#( not initially. he put the pieces together later )

[milkteamoon]

You're right and you should say it

Reading too much between the lines yet again, but someone I was talking to brought up this part from mag88 the other day and I have to wonder if maybe Martin knew Jon was ace way back in s2? Like much of fanon has Martin learning said fact from Melanie's comment in the mag106 recording, but there's something that sorta sweet to me about the idea that Martin could have known way before that and (more likely) from Jon himself.....

This would also definitely would support the fact that Jon and Martin had a pretty strong bond back in s2! Even with their limited interactions and with Jon's paranoia, we do know that they seemed to get along best out of all the archive members (with Jon and Tim at a standstill and Sasha being...all of that), that they were lunch buddies, and that Martin likely took Jon to get stitches after his encounter with Michael... Idk, it's just sorta nice to think about that Jon "never shares anything personal about himself with anyone" Sims maybe felt close enough to Martin despite everything to explain this very private, very personal bit about himself to him even way back then

[endawn]

pax’s grandmother, psylia arne, is an altmer and still alive during the oblivion crisis. after it was over, she traveled to cyrodiil from high rock to check up on him but ended up chiding him for wearing his hair in a way that obscured his pointed ears & for wasting his full magical potential. then leaves.

[hellotailor]

armand’s costumes are such an interesting data point re: his nebulous sense of identity.

when analyzing any costume, there are always many factors to consider: the setting, the character’s personal taste and economic constraints, storytelling concerns like tone and genre, etc. with armand, we also need to remember that he’s 500 years old and violently disconnected from his human origins. everything he wears has an element of disguise, selected to blend into a new environment.

armand was enslaved as a child in 16th century delhi, and barely remembers his mortal life. unlike louis - who can return to new orleans after 80 years and reconnect with his past - armand has no home to return to. his whole backstory, even his name, is rife with traumatic subtext, leaving him with an obsessive need for structure and control. this adds an extra layer of meaning to costuming choices that initially seem like straightforward menswear. 

armand’s 1940s wardrobe is very put-together - primarily three-piece suits and coats that make him look wealthier and more formal than louis, who is purposefully dressing down. most of these outfits are tailored to bulk up armand's frame, leaning into the "maitre" persona. and like his business-casual dubai wardrobe, he always leaves his collar open. when i interviewed costume designer carol cutshall, she described this as a symbolic power move, signalling that he's an apex predator who doesn't need to protect his throat.

my personal interpretation is that while armand clearly likes to look good, he has a complicated relationship with attractiveness. he doesn't always want to draw attention. his color palette is shadowy (black, grey, brown, olive green), and he’s much less flashy than the other Théâtre vamps. however when he’s feeling confident and flirty, he becomes more of a power-dresser - for instance his hunting outfit with the big coat and sunglasses, or his habit of wearing kohl.

interestingly, most of armand's 1940s costumes set him apart from the coven. the Théâtre vampires dress like cabaret performers, embracing a lot of period-specific styles. by contrast armand is more timeless and neutral. in fact, due to the relatively minor changes in men's suits over the past 100 years, there's a lot of overlap between his wardrobe in the 1940s, '70s and 2020s:

the rest of the Théâtre squad share an unofficial uniform of boldly clashing monochrome patterns with pops of bright color. meanwhile armand has a very plain wardrobe, emphasizing the image of him as a businesslike authority figure surrounded by zany artistes. he only wears subtle stripes on a few occasions in the '40s, reflecting the recurring prison motif we see in lestat's trial suit and (most famously) the dubai penthouse bedroom:

if we ask the question, "what does this person like to wear?" there are easy answers for lestat, louis and claudia. we understand their tastes, and the motives behind them. but armand is more enigmatic. we can recognize through-lines in his wardrobe, but his "taste" is dominated by whatever role he's currently decided to embody, whether that's a parisian theater director or a real estate mogul in dubai.

the times when he appears to have the most fun with clothing are when he steals a pair of sunglasses from his human dinner (!) and when he's pretending to be rashid. in other words, when he's explicitly performing for an audience. "real armand" is still a mystery.

(i may write more about armand's dubai wardrobe later, but for now, you can find all of my iwtv costumes posts on this tag!)

[illusioninfnty]

three's a crowd! ↠ day 21 ; spitroasting

↠ roronoa zoro x reader x vinsmoke sanji

fandom: one piece word count: 2.1k warnings: nsfw 18+, caught in the act, jealous!zoro, possessiveness, spanking, praise, blowjob, face fucking, gagging, fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, squirting, overstimulation, cum marking, cum eating, creampie, aftercare, some unintentional homoerotic subtext if you squint

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

Grunts and skin slapping together are the only sounds in the room as Zoro fucks into you from behind.

Your arrangement with him was as simple as it could be, whenever the two of you were stressed, and whenever the other crew members were occupied, you would fuck. It was a lot easier than trying to pick up strangers from whatever bar you could find everytime you guys docked at a new town. The last time that happened, you may or may not have brought back someone that had a hidden vendetta against Luffy, and it resulted in yet another fight aboard the Going Merry.

Oh well. Mistakes happen.

You moan into the pillow beneath you, doing your best to conceal your sounds of pleasure. You were in Zoro’s bed, as all of the crew were out exploring the newest town

Despite that fact, it never hurts to be too careful. 

And indeed, you were right. Because not even a minute later, you hear the door to the men’s quarters open and you gasp in surprise. You involuntarily clench around Zoro, making him hiss as you both turn to see who walked in.

Sanji stands in the doorway, jaw dropped and suit jacket halfway off his body.

Zoro turns to maneuver the bed sheets in a way that covers your body from Sanji’s eyes. You could tell that the cook was staring at you, just by the way his eyes completely avoid your gaze and he looks upward as a blush rises to his cheeks. He looks cuter than ever in that moment, and maybe it's because you have a dick inside of you at that very moment, but you desperately want to fuck him to see what other reactions you can get out of him.

“The fuck are you looking at?” Zoro growls out. The hand that was splayed across your hip tightens in anger the longer Sanji stands there. “Fucking scram.”

You could tell by his initial embarrassment that Sanji was planning on leaving, but Zoro’s reaction has him heated up, and you know that neither of them will let the other have the last word.

You roll your eyes and get settled in, waiting for the argument to begin.

Sanji tsks at Zoro, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “Putting her in such a degrading position like that, it’s a wonder she stays with you.”

“She stays with me ‘cause I fuck her right every time. Not like she’d have the same experience with you.”

“I’ll have you know that I’ve never gotten a single complaint about my performance in the bedroom!”

“Yeah, right. Like she’d ever go for you when she has me here.”

“A-actually,” you speak up for the first time during their spat. Both men turn to you, Sanji with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, and Zoro, who’s glare seems to scream don’t you dare, as if he knew exactly what you were going to suggest.

“Sanji,” you swallow, hoping you’re not making a mistake, “you should join us.”

“Join—?” He chokes on his spit, and you can see the way his cheeks turn red from his blush. 

“Please?” you put on a classic pout that you know will make Sanji weak in the knees.

Hook, line, and sinker.

He scratches the back of his neck, feigning concession. But you can see the tent in his pants that is clear as day. “If you insist, madam.”

“Madam,” Zoro mutters from behind you, mocking Sanji’s choice of word. You kick at the back of his leg in warning.

Sanji approaches you in the front of the bed (staying as far away from Zoro as possible, you notice) and stares at you hesitantly. You motion him closer, and begin palming his erection through his pants. He moans softly, his hips subtly bucking into your touch.

Zoro, having enough of your attention pulled away from him, begins to thrust back into you from behind. The sudden movement has you moaning, and the force of it pushes you right into Sanji’s crotch.

The ship’s cook grabs your hair by the root and keeps you in place with one hand as he uses his other to undo his pants and free his cock from its constraints. His hard erection springs out, hitting you in the face, and without any prompting you stick it in your mouth, sucking on it furiously.

You bob your head up and down, swallowing him all the way down to the root. You swirl your tongue around the head, and Sanji’s grip in your hair tightens as he groans from the sensation.

“Better not make any noises over there, cook,” Zoro says. “I was planning on finishing.”

Sanji’s response comes back within a second. “I can’t help it when your woman is giving all her attention to me.”

You don’t even need to be looking at Zoro to know what his reaction is to that—you can just picture the glare that he gives Sanji as he slaps your ass and ruts his hips into you more.

The force of his cock filling you to the brim has you moaning around Sanji’s cock as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your hands grip the sheets below you as you make a feeble attempt to stabilize yourself as you lay helpless between the two men who use your body for their pleasure.

Zoro does his best to ignore Sanji and occupies himself with grabbing the flesh of your ass and spreading you open wider than before. He bullies his cock deep inside of you, and the bulbous head reaches parts of you that have your vision going blurry and your mind going numb, only able to focus on how much he fills you up.

“You see this?” Zoro motions to you, and the way your body shakes in pleasure from his cock thrusting deep with you. “This is all ‘cause of me. You couldn’t make her feel even half as good.”

As you look up at Sanji through your teary vision, you can see the way his eyes narrow at Zoro’s fighting words. Suddenly your nose is pressed up against Sanji’s pubic bone, his cock stuffed all the way down your throat, you cough and gag around him, spit dribbling down the sides of your mouth yet he doesn’t relent.

He has one hand entangled in your hair at the scalp, and the other moves to wrap itself around your neck, gripping it lightly, feeling the imprint of his cock on your throat as he fucks it in and our of your mouth.

You moan around him, relishing in the sensation of fullness that you’re getting inside of you from both ends. Your hands move to grasp onto Sanji’s thighs and you suck down as much as you can on his cock, gagging as his cock reaches as far as it could possibly go within your mouth. Tears start to stream down your face now at the way he pounds himself all the way to the back of your throat.

Sanji looks down at your reaction, and then up at Zoro with his trademark smirk. “Seems like she’s too occupied enjoying my cock down her throat.”

Both men are relentless in trying to prove themselves, and you’re on the receiving end of it. It seems as though you’re never going to catch a break between the two of them. They constantly try and one up each other, with each new action or technique they try on you has you edging closer and closer to your eventual orgasm.

The final straw is when Zoro, through his relentless ruts into you, begins to stick his thick fingers inside of your pussy as well, curling them up in the perfect spots where he knows you’ll fall apart.

And you do. You attempt to pull a hand back and slap him against his arm to warn him or your incoming orgasm, but Sanji’s grip in your hair remains as solid as ever and you don’t have enough strength to pull yourself back.

Your arms flop to your side, weak and useless, the two men being the only things holding your body up now. Your screams of pleasure are muted around Sanji’s cock, but the vibrations from it have him groaning nonetheless.

Your orgasm comes like a colossal wave, crashing down onto you with so much pain and pleasure it becomes too overwhelming to bear. Your whole body goes rigid as you climax. Your pussy clenches like a vice around Zoro’s cock, and your mouth tightens around Sanji. The two men groan in unison as your release washes over you, squirting juices all over yourself and Zoro, who you can hear laughing (and probably mocking Sanji) from behind you.

Neither man lets you rest after your orgasm, though. They both continue to fuck you with intense vigor, as if it’s their dying wishes. It’s Sanji who finally folds first and cums, doing so by holding you by your hair as he smashes your face all the way to the base of his cock. His groans are loud and continuous as you suck down on him furiously, swallowing the jets of cum that shoot out of him. 

A mix of your saliva and his cum leave the sides of your mouth as you do so, causing you to make a mess of his cock, slobbering all over it as he guides your head up and down.

“Fuck, so good for me,” he mutters out with his jaw clenched, just loud enough for you to hear, and you preen under the praise.

After he’s done cumming, you open your mouth wide and stick out your tongue for Sanji, showing him your empty mouth from swallowing all of him. And you’re glad you did so, because based on his lovesick expression alone it looked like he was about to cream himself for a second time that night.

Zoro cums soon after, his cock throbbing harshly as he buries himself to the hilt deep inside your pussy. He tends to be quiet when he cums, save for a few grunts here and there as the jets of hot liquid pour into you. But this time, you can hear him uttering praises to you.

“That’s it baby,” is what you hear the clearest through his groans, his voice gravely and deep. “Fuck, squeezing me so tightly. Could die in this pussy.”

If you literally didn’t just have your orgasm a second ago, you probably would have cum again right then and there.

Zoro always came inside of you whenever you two fucked, insisting on going bare. You never minded it; it felt better without a condom on, anyways. But you always knew that the reason why Zoro truly did it was because he loved marking you with his cum, seeing it drip outside of your pussy whenever he finished.

The swordsman reluctantly leaves your pussy after he cums. He watches the way the excess liquid seeps outside of your pussy, which still clenches around nothing, desperately looking for his cock again. He scoops it up with his fingers, pushing it back inside of you and barks out a laugh at the way you moan pathetically and your pussy walls quiver as they constrict around the shape of him.

He takes some of the excess left on his fingers and wipes it across your ass, rubbing it into your skin.

It takes you a couple of moments for you to finally open your eyes and register your surroundings after all of that. Zoro is wiping you with a wet cloth, and you see Sanji coming back in with a glass of water and a snack he no doubt whipped up quickly, then and there.

Once you’re finally calmed down from the overstimulation and cleaned off from all of the stickiness, you roll back into Zoro’s bed with a sigh collapsing from the exhaustion. Zoro moves in next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and rubbing circles into your skin.

Sanji glances at the two of you. “Room for one more?” he asks cheekily.

Zoro glares at Sanji and his arm tightens around you. “Fuck no. Piss off.” 

He closes his eyes, and within seconds he’s snoring away, dead to the world.

You look over at Sanji and roll your eyes at Zoro’s words. Silently, you scootch over in the bed, making some room for him. You motion with your hand for him to climb in, and he does so gladly, nestling himself into your body. With Zoro’s arm around you and your face resting in the crook of Sanji’s neck, you’re able to fall asleep quickly and peacefully sandwiched between your two favorite boys, not having a single care in the world.

[standamianwayne]

yandere!batfam/damian’s twin!reader (conner kent edition!)

quick warning: cursing, one (1) mention of a gun

Conner looks stupid.

He thought he looked good when he and Clark first left the house. Sure, he wasn’t in a three piece suit or nothing, but he had the button up and slacks! Though, he probably guesses his leather jacket cancels out the fancy image. God, why did he think this was a good idea? He is not meant for these Wayne galas.

He feels the heat creeping up his neck to the tips of his ears. The second people start looking, he just wishes he could fly away.

Clark was the one who initially asked him to come, but the one who convinced him was nowhere to be found. When he had told you he was thinking about coming, you had been so excited and practically begged him to follow through. He would, of course, but damn he wished you had been the one to ask him here in the first place. He wished you asked to come to these galas in general (you do, just not the way he wants).

Conner remembers the first time(s) he met you (both in and out of the mask). He met you, as in Damian’s twin sister, Bruce Wayne’s daughter, one of Jon’s best friends— that you, first. It was Jon’s birthday and he had invited his two best friends over to celebrate. They were Wayne kids, from what he had told Clark (which Conner had ‘overheard’), so obviously they were too cool for parties. Jon had all the faith in the world that those two would show up, and, to your credit, you did!

Oh, the first time Conner saw you he knew he was done for. Jon had practically ran outside when you and Damian showed up, and he got to see you as you both stepped into the house. You were slightly overdressed, nothing crazy but it was obvious that your definition of ‘party’ was very different to his. Only half an inch shorter than him* and as pretty as the sun, you truly were a sight to see. He could’ve sworn you looked at him a little longer than everybody else. Which, you did, but mostly cause you were trying to remember how familiar he looked (it’s cause you remembered he was Tim’s friend).

Then, he met you again. The all-black-and-red wearing, night-stalking, crime fighting vigilante— that you. He had been slinking around Gotham in the late hours of the night. When the sky went dark, save for the moon and stars, and the real bad guys and boogeymen came out to play. So dark and gloomy, the polar opposite of Metropolis.

He knew someone was in the alley he was walking past— of course he did! But honestly? He was bored out of his mind. So, he just pretended to be oblivious and walk by, waiting to see what would happen.

Conner wishes he could say it was a surprise that he was met with a gun pointed at his head. He can’t recall what exactly the guy said to him, but it was probably a threat about giving him his wallet.

No, he can’t remember that guy. But he does remember you. Now, at the time he didn’t know that it was pretty-girl-from-Jon’s-party you, but he did know that you looked really fucking cool when you took down that guy. A swift kick to disarm him, a punch to his face, and the guy was out! Damn, Batman’s kids really are strong, huh?

You turned to look at him, and he felt just a twinge of disappointment at seeing the helmet covering your face. But then you spoke to him and he almost swooned at your voice. Granted, it was a bit muffled and you may have used a voice synthesizer— but that doesn’t matter! You asked if he was okay! Ugh, you are just so considerate.

A quick warning to stay away from this corner of the city (and honestly every corner of the city), and you were off. He likes to reminisce about that day often. When he got home, he found himself smiling at the ceiling as he thought of you. Both you — little miss Wayne — and you — ass-kicker of the night. Later, when he put the two together, he liked that you guys had at least one thing in common.

Now he was here, at one of your family’s galas, looking for you. He could almost cry when he finally spots you. You look beautiful, as you always do, and you’re talking and smiling with a group of older women. ‘Of course,’ he thinks, ‘your family would probably throw any old man that comes near you out a window.’

But he can’t dwell on that thought for long. Not when he sees you for the first time tonight and feels almost desperate to be near you (what else is new?). So he begins to make his way to you, wiping his now sweaty palms on his pants.

You notice him approaching, because duh! He’s wearing his stupid leather jacket, which definitely makes him stick out like a sore thumbs. You excuse yourself quickly from those women.

“Conner,” He almost feels his breath catch in his throat. He’s seen you in so many outfits but somehow every single one gets him the same way. Maybe it’s not the outfits. “you came.” You say with a smile on your face.

He says your name back, the sound almost coating his throat and makes his tongue feel like lead. “I did,” he gives a smile back, one he hopes to be charming but knows to make him look like a dork. “You look” ‘Say beautiful!’ he urges in his head, “… nice.” ‘Damn it!’ “Like, really nice.”

You let out a breath, one he can recognize as amusement. “Thank you. You dress up well.” You reply, though he catches the look you give his jacket. He feels heat crawling up his neck and painting the tips of his ears. It only gets worse as you brush your hand over his bicep. Brushing off dust or coping a feel, he wouldn’t mind either honestly. Any touch of yours makes him feel like he’s going to faint.

“It, uh,” he leans in a bit, that same dorky grin on his face, “It’s a part of my look.” He thinks you’re the only girl to make him nervous.

Your eyes hold a mixture of amusement and skepticism, a slight furrow of your eyebrows and a widening of your own smile. “Your look, right. Well you’ve certainly found a way to stand out from the crowd. Congratulations, that’s no small feat.”

And now you’re teasing him. God, he really likes you, doesn’t he? “Why, thank you.” He gives a small bow and thanks his super hearing for being able to pick up on the slightest chuckle leaving your lips. “Are there any snacks here?” He asks after standing up. He could just make idle conversation, but it’s more likely that you won’t get stolen away if you’re showing him the ropes.

“They’re called hors d'oeuvres” ‘Yeah, whatever you say, beautiful’ “and yes, we have them,” You take his arm (holy shit you take his arm) and start guiding him wherever.

Alright, Conner admits, maybe he doesn’t look that stupid.

*realistically, given Bruce and Talia’s heights, reader would be about 5’8.5, while Conner is 5’9 canonically. the only reason this is here is bc i want tall girl rep tbh, so just ignore it if you want, it’s not important

merry early christmas (if you celebrate), here’s a gift! this is my first ever attempt at writing an actual ‘story’ (one shot? blurb? idk these terms guys help) so i hope it’s alright.

i kinda want to characterize conner as like a cocky smartass who loses that cockiness around the girl he likes. because! why not! i just think it’s cute

and dw if you don’t want conner as the only love interest, cause i assure you there will be more (blame it on the wayne genes tbh LMAO)

as always, any comments, requests, criticism, anything! is appreciated greatly. happy holidays, bye byeeeee ❤️

[pankielovesfan]

How would Fan react when learning about the reveal? Read my fun long ramble!

I need to put this down somewhere. Here is my fun not so structured analysis!!!! this is something i think a lot about. of course I do.

I doodled a small little graph of reactions I think he would go through that I will elaborate on further in the paragraphs below. I'm not sure about the order but it'd be something like these stages when processing it - most likely.

This is analyzed from the idea that Fan did not previously predict this in any way or expect it, but I do also suspect he might know! (Which, I'll explain later for his reaction to that.)

Fan's an incredibly emotional and impulsive person, he would definitely have a strong outer reaction to the information. This may be biased coming from me since Fan is my favorite to analyze but aside from Suitcase he would probably be handling it the worst after being told about it, OR just having the most notable reaction! This is considering he was not made to be a contestant but to devote his love, identity, and purpose to the show, which makes him revolve around the show much more than anyone else - since it is a built-in interest in him that he's dedicated his entire existence to, even when he tried to build himself beyond it- he still surrounds himself with Inanimate Insanity even after his elimination. It is forever tied to his mind and interests contrary to many contestants who try to separate from the show and competition entirely.

Fan's most substantial development in Hatching The Plan was the fact that there were many possibilities out there for him to discover for himself (and that others were there for him through that change and discovery). While he recognizes this and states on Fan's Fantastic Features that he's trying to test his limit and push past his comfort zone (notably while in a safe controlled environment where this change can occur comfortably for him) he is still "stuck" in Inanimate Insanity whether he recognizes this or not. He is at Hotel OJ, surrounded by the contestants, and he is still on MePhone4's island, like any other contestant. While Fan has convinced himself that he is more than just a fan of the show and that he is improving as a person, this development is still slow (obvious, coming from a person such as Fan who struggles with it) and he is still heavily attached to the core of his personality - the core which he was built to be in the first place. His love for the show is so clearly his own dedication and passion, and it truly does feel like his own CHOICE to love the show as much as he does. Even if he was created for it, it is a part of him that he loves and puts confidence into.

I swear these earlier points play into this bear with me,

So once Fan is told he was created by MePhone4, after the initial shock dies down, he would be in denial of it, of course, as Fan would react to any new information he had not considered about the show. Some "It can't be"s and some "There is absolutely no way"s being said by him, especially if he had not foreseen this coming. An instinctive reaction coming from Fan (which would also apply to Test Tube) is immediately questioning it, wanting answers- most definitely from MePhone4 himself. I don't think he'd believe Cobs if he told him, maybe not even Suitcase or Test Tube, he'd need to find the evidence for it and piece together if this even made sense at all.

Once he starts to consider it and all the pieces fit together for him as he looks back on everything, he'll let go of that denial. That's when it first really hits him. One of his first reactions is positive. He'd find validation in the fact he was created specifically for the show, he'd be honored and glad he was an actual piece of the show- not just a viewer or contestant, he was actually part of the show he loved so much. Fan puts a lot of his confidence into being the number 1 fan of inanimate insanity, as everyone knows, and being questioned on this or having people challenge him always strongly shows his insecurity over it. But knowing that he quite literally is, without a doubt, the biggest fan of inanimate insanity- and that he actually had this purpose and that he was made for what he loved to do- that would validate him immensely. He would thrive on his notion for a while until the existential crisis started to leap in.

He'd try to be acceptant of it, and this time around he would be in denial of his own emotions. He'd try to show how well he was taking this and to pride himself in being the biggest ii fan ever, so he puts up a confident front which is obviously not normal to anyone who sees him. He'd try his best not to think about the other implications of his existence being made for reality TV. He would try his best to appear in control and unburdened to prove to both others and himself that he was taking it well. I don't think this stage in his realization will go on for long. I think this would fluctuate a LOT depending on his mood.

At one point he does start to question himself. He overthinks his existence and his emotions, and if they are genuine- what if what he feels is fake? Just generated love? What if he truly doesn't like Inanimate Insanity? What's a real feeling from him and what's a fake one?! A million thoughts that some may not even make sense but this is where the existentialism really gets to him. Every time he felt excitement or love for the show, was that even his own emotions? Was that just made by MePhone4 so he could get some appreciation for his show- and maybe he'd get mad that MePhone4 kept dismissing him. Maybe he'd wonder why he was made if he's not being recognized and rewarded for how much dedication- if it was even his own- that he put into appreciating MePhone4, a dedication that was going unnoticed or deemed annoying by him.

Something I mentioned earlier, about Fan learning to embrace new opportunities for himself and about how he was still trapped in the show. He realizes he is forever tied to the show, and all his attempts at making changes for himself and being more than just a fan suddenly feel... meaningless to him. All he was ever made for from the start was to be a fanboy of the show, and he had tried to build himself around that. But those efforts were for nothing if this is all he ever was- just a fan. That was his entire identity, he was never anything other than that. This is all that could ever come out of him. So what was the point in trying? His shell might've been the only place he'd ever felt safe in anyways- and once he remembers it, his old coping mechanisms seem incredibly tempting. Fan would retreat back into his shell. Things just seemed so much simpler if he did, he wouldn't have to deal with all this overthinking if he just stuck to what he was made for, something he already had found so much comfort and significance in. He uses his shell to cope once again, regressing, turning back to his purpose. This would be how he copes with this new information, by embracing what it taught him that he was. He'd be in this state for a while, he'd probably try to pretend he never even learned anything and creating a false reality of his own security. Being a fan is still important to him, and something he feels so deeply about that he's urged into fully embracing it again. early season 2 fan is back babyyyy!

Not sure how long it would go on for, or even how long it would take for him to go through these stages, but this is somewhat of the process I believe he'd have! I think Suitcase and Fan should have a talk about dealing with all of this. possibly. I feel like it will boil down to "if it feels true to you, that's all that matters." for Fan dealing with this. I could definitely see Suitcase saying something similar to him.

As for him reacting to it after already having theorized this would happen or at the very least suspect it, I think it would go similar to that one drawing I made. He'd be proud at first, and it wouldn't sink in as fast because his pride comes first! But to have it actually confirmed to him would then send him into that same realization as stage 3 of processing it. Something something, it goes the same after this.

Anyways i love fannnn i could talk about him for hours boy i love you i wonder if we'll even get everyone's reactions to the reveal or if they'll even tell anyone else but if we do Fan would definitely have a prominent reaction to it <- guy who loves fan saying this. look at this bias

[erodasfishtacos]

Conflict of Interests (roommatesbf!h)

prompt: yn knows that she has a bit of a crush on her roommate/friend's bf but until an opportunity is put in her lap, she tries her best to resist.

word count: 9k

warnings: not necessarily infidelity yet but there's some shady business, mff, fxf

author's note:

There is 3 more parts to this up on patreon.

I upload a piece of writing every 1-3 days.

I recently started a second tier called The OG Tier where 2-3 one shots (1-4kish) are posted a week.

There are currently 350 + pieces available to read

Tier I - $3 USD where you get access to main stories, everything except the mini one shots.

Tier II - $5 USD where you get access to every piece of writing!

you can check it out here!

++ YN was pretty open, easy to say ‘yes’, and take risk but she wasn’t careless.

She weighed the reward versus the consequence, trying to make as much of an informed decision as she can before jumping in the metaphorical deep-end.

However, she had absolutely miscalculated and found herself reaping the consequences of her actions.

A ruined friendship, an empty second bedroom because said friend had moved out, and a few of their friends who were taking sides.

They weren’t on hers.

YN should have said ‘no’, at the time she knew she shouldn’t have, it would lead to nothing good because of how YN actually felt about Harry.

+

YN and Kay had been friends for years, meeting in senior year of high school when Kay had to transfer schools because of her father getting a job change.

They hit it off right away, deciding to room in college together, and now they had moved from a tiny dorm to more of a spacious apartment.

Kay and YN have lived together for three years at this point, they rarely had any issues, an occasional stolen yogurt or leaving laundry in the washer but nothing that shook the foundation of their friendship.

Until Harry walks into their lives.

Well quite literally walks into her bedroom while she’s getting dressed.

YN was going out to dinner with her family, her brother was in town and they were meeting at an Italian restaurant a few blocks down.

It was a fancier restaurant which meant that YN was buzzing around her room and connecting bathroom, hair and makeup done except for lipstick and hairspray.

YN had her high-waisted trousers already buttoned snugly against her hips but was trying to find a shirt that worked well with the dressy bottoms.

YN had a strapless bra on but the shirt she finds that she wants to wear looks better without, she tosses the shirt on the bed, and unclasps her bra.

She had just tossed it to the side, to put away later when her door opened.

It doesn’t initially alarm her, Kay has a tendency to not knock or generally respect the idea of privacy so when YN turns to see what she wants.

However, it is not Kay.

It is a man.

A stupidly attractive man whose eyes become as wide as saucers, his big baseball mit of a hand smacks over his eyes to cover them, and starts rambling an apology.

“Who the fuck are you?” YN screeches as she reaches for the first thing she can find, her fleece throw as she holds it over her chest, heart pounding.

“M’so fucking sorry, I-“ The man’s voice is low, a deep drawl and a bit morbid as he keeps his eyes covered with a tattooed hand.

“What’s going on?” Kay appears in the doorway, a smirk tweaking at the corner of lips, “Harry, I told you the door on the left.”

“This is the door on the left,” Harry replies in a higher pitch, which was still ridiculously deep as he stands there, trying to stay as still as a statue.

“Oh shit, I meant my left,” Kay giggles as she moves to tug at his elbow which he very resistantly starts to let her move his face covering, “She’s decent now.”

Harry blinks a few time, his cheeks were twinged a bright pink akin to the tone of bubblegum as he meets YN’s eye sheepishly.

“I am so sorry,” Harry apologizes again, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets, he was handsome - even if this sounded awful, completely out of Kay’s league.

It wasn’t that Kay wasn’t pretty, she was but Harry could have just walked out of some expensive cologne advert even in his jeans and black tee.

His tattoos were dark, no color to be found and it’s a contrast against his tanned skin like he had just been on a vacation with the golden tint.

“It’s okay. It’s completely Kay’s fault,” YN tries to crack a joke, easing the tension because though YN was actually quite proud of her body, she liked her breasts and didn’t mind who saw them - most of the time.

YN still managed to feel self-conscious about what Harry had thought because he looked like that and she felt a weird jolt of butterflies about it.

“But doesn’t she have the nicest pair of tits you’ve ever seen?” Kay nudges Harry, wrapping her hand around his massive bicep as best she can.

“Kay,” YN scolds as she holds the blanket closet, feeling super bare now.

“I’m just saying! I can’t help but stare when I see them,” Her friend shrugs, she had the tendency to be crude, crass, and frankly too much.

Harry has his bottom lip tucked between his two front teeth, eyes now not making contact with YN’s, “C’mon, Kay. Stop embarrassing her. It was an accident and I don’t want to objectify her.”

YN is oddly touched by his respectfulness, she felt like most guys would just openly agree with Kay which would have made her feel uncomfortable.

“Thank you,” YN replies, voice softer and the gaze she shares with Harry feels unusually intense before she’s clearing her throat, “Um, I need to put a shirt on.”

“C’mon, let’s go,” Harry tugs Kay in the direction of the door with one more apologetic glance before he’s closing it behind him.

YN’s stomach does a weird flip, what the fuck.

7 months later +

Harry and Kay are dating.

Which YN is a bit, scratch that, a lot confused by because they just seem like the most unlikely match but not just looks-wise.

Harry is quiet, doesn’t really talk unless he’s asked a question or has something to add to the conversation but he does not speak just to speak.

He does subtle things that he thinks people do not notice and usually don’t (YN does)

The way he will close a cabinet right by YN’s head so she doesn’t accidentally bump into it as she cooks without saying anything.

If he knows YN has a late day at work, he turn on a lamp in the entryway so she doesn’t have to stumble around in the dark and she knows it’s him because Kay wouldn’t be that thoughtful.

Plus she caught him once, he had awkwardly shrugged and said that he didn’t want her tripping and getting hurt before disappearing back down the hall to Kay’s room.

YN has a smile for quite a few minutes after that.

+_+

Kay and Harry are not affectionate which is interesting.

Kay was handsy, typically clinging onto her boyfriend at any time, and their group of friends groaning about the obnoxious amount of PDA.

Not them.

Harry did small gestures here or there like squeeze her shoulder or put his hand on her back, rarely throw an arm over her shoulder at a restaurant or bar.

YN also didn’t hear them from the bedroom.

Kay didn’t have a volume control button, it didn’t take detective-like skills to tell when she was being intimate with someone because of the noise.

It made YN’s skin crawl because it was obvious that they were over-exaggerated, high-pitched moans that made her roll her eyes and couldn’t believe the guys she brought home believed they were real.

But no, YN heard nothing ever.

And Harry was constantly over, Kay had told YN that Harry’s housemate was a nightmare which had him trying to get out of the house as soon as possible.

Harry was just…perfect.

YN knows she shouldn’t been thinking that but he is the closest thing to perfection that she has ever seen or met without a doubt.

On top of his thoughtfulness, he listened and was actually paying attention, no phone in his face, no half ass agreements.

Meanwhile, YN witnesses Kay constantly on her phone while Harry was trying to have a conversation with her - nodding and say “mhm” without looking up.

YN could see the frustration that he’s trying to taper down but that’s when she’ll jump in to let him know that she was paying attention.

The dimples that appear in his cheeks are all the reward that she needs to know that she’s doing that right thing.

Her heart aches a bit because of the crush she wants to have on such an off-limits person, so she’ll push it into the back, the darkest crevice in her mind.

Harry would most likely be mortified to know the shit thay YN thought while he was just trying to be friendly.

It was just that she couldn’t get a ready in them as a couple and that was driving her a bit insane.

Well YN was actually questioning whether she was crazy because she had moment where she thought that Harry was actually going out of his way to do things for her than his own girlfriend.

Then the bathroom incident happens.

YN really, truly didn’t know that Harry was here.

She heard the shower running and assumed that it was Kay in there.

YN and Kay didn’t have much off-limits, it wasn’t out of the norm for her to pop into the bathroom to brush her teeth or pee when Kay was in there or vice versa.

So YN doesn’t think much of opening the bathroom door to grab her hairbrush she had left in there but only she was not met with what she expected.

It was a standing shower, with a glass door which meant there was no privacy for the person if someone came in and holy shit.

Harry was under the stream with his head tilted down, he was running a washcloth over his stomach and holy fuck, she didn’t realize how built he was.

She hadn’t seen him shirtless before, yes, she could gather that he was in shape by the way his biceps flexed or how defined his thighs were when he wore shorts but this was unreal.

YN’s eyes find the harsh vee that is tattooed with laurels, that is leading downwards towards…

“I’m sorry!” YN squeaks out, halfway into the bathroom and her hand extended towards her brush but her muscles lock and she’s frozen for a good half minute, “Oh my god, shit!”

Harry turns at the sound, confusion momentarily crossing his face but he doesn’t seem bothered, does nothing to try to cover himself.

YN was repeating over and over to herself to not look there but she couldn’t ignore that’s where her eyes went first, wanting to continue because he was thick, heavy, and he wasn’t even hard.

YN turns to leave but doesn’t realize that she has stepped on Harry’s discarded clothes which means her foot slips out from under her.

She attempts to steady herself by grabbing the countertop but it is just out of reach as a yelp exits her mouth, falling into a lump of limbs.

Her lip is throbbing because her teeth sliced through the thin skin when she accidentally bit down, her fingertips coming to press against where the blood begins to dribble.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry curses as he watches all of this go down in the span of a minute flat, he’s reaching to turn off the faucet before he’s stepping out.

YN cannot fully appreciate Harry in his dripping wet, tanned skin, naked glory because her eyes are foggy with fat tears of embarassment and pain.

Harry grabs his towel, wrapping it haphazardly around his waist, threatening to slip off at any minute when he kneels down.

“Darling, what on earth?” Harry rasps, his eyes tracing her over, his hand coming to cup the side of her face as he holds her still.

He picks up his discarded shirt, pressing the soft cotton to her lip with pressure to stop the bleeding, his voice was comforting and entirely sweet enough to give her a toothache.

“You’re okay, s’okay. Calm down f’me,” Harry coos softly, stroking her hair as the other keeps the shirt against her lip, “I know, I know.”

Just the small little reassurances were digging YN into a deep, treacherous dark hole because she’d never had a boyfriend who would baby her as much as he was doing.

And that’s when YN realizes it, Harry has been babying her the entire time he’s been with Kay, and he just doesn’t do the same for her.

YN was too frazzled to delve any deeper into that right now.

“I’m so sorry, I thought it was Kay in the shower. I am so so sorry-“ YN is trying to tell him through choked sobs, unable to blink the tears away fast enough.

“Stop apologizing, dove. You didn’t know, the tears are killing me though. I haven’t seen you cry before and it’s just as heartbreaking as I would imagine,” Harry frowns, he was still dripping and it was dampening YN’s clothes.

“My lip hurts,” YN huffs out with a edge of a whine, god, it was so easy for her to fall into this baby role with him and let him take care of her, “And I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life.”

“Why would you be embarrassed?” Harry asks as he dabs at her lip, checking to see how steady the flow of blood is before pressing it back.

“I just barged in on you showering and then ate shit, I’ve never had a worse moment of embarrassment,” YN informs him, her face felt hot and she had to stop herself from looking towards the split in his towel.

Jesus Christ, this was her friend's boyfriend and she was swooning like a girl with her first crush in elementary school - she needed to pull herself together.

“S’just me,” Harry murmurs softly, taking the shirt away and watching her mouth for a moment before sitting back, “Nothing to be embarassed by.”

YN and Harry make eye contact which makes her stomach flip in a way that it shouldn’t because he’s off limits but he’s nice and beautiful and naked.

YN swallows harshly as she fails to find a reply.

Harry takes his hand away which she misses as soon as it’s gone, standing up before reaching down to pull her up as well.

“Let me dry off, go change, and I’ll make us dinner, yeah?” Harry says as he brushes a strand of stray hair off of her forehead.

“Yeah,” YN agrees dumbly, hands still shaking and her heart felt like it had just run a marathon with how fast her blood was pumping through it.

“Will you be okay for a minute?” Harry is still checking, he’s a worrier and that much is obvious through his words and facial expression.

YN chuckles out a light snort, not her most attractive moment, “Or what, can I hold your hand and wait while you change?”

It was absolutely and completely meant to be a joke, a sarcastic quip because of course she was okay enough to walk to her bedroom.

Harry doesn’t smile, not really, his voice ever steady and morbid as he replies, “I don’t mind. S’nothing you haven’t seen before now. If it makes you feel better.”

YN throat tightens, the urge to flea was becoming stronger because he wasn’t being outwardly flirty, he was being kind but it still felt wrong - at least because YN was struggling to stay just friendly.

There was nothing in Harry’s words that were overtly sexual or persuasive, his demeanor didn’t give much of anything away either.

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” YN manages to tell him before scurrying out of the bathroom as fast as humanly possible.

Even more guilt came when she was undressing, resisting the urge to touch herself to the mental image of Harry stepping out of the shower.

Where the deep vee had lead into trimmed hair that got a bit darker, thicker around the base of his -

“Stop,” YN scolds herself as she tugs on new underwear.

Harry had made it a point not to objectify her when he accidentally saw her chest but YN was better than no man as her mind kept going back to the sheer size and beauty of Harry’s cock.

Anyways.

YN was a shit friend right now.

End of story.

YN takes a little bit longer than necessary to exit her room, feeling like she was doing a walk of shame when she enters the kitchen.

Harry was already chopping up veggies, a pot of water that wasn’t boiling just yet on the stovetop, and it was all very domestic.

YN walks up behind him, itching to put a hand of his back, rub over the lithe, bulky muscles there but instead drums her fingers against the countertop.

“Do you need any help?” YN asks, her voice sounded relatively back to normal by now.

Harry glances over at her, his smile faltering slightly as he puts down the knife, and brings his thumb to her bottom lip again.

“You really did a number on yourself, dove,” Harry tells her, displeased as he traces over the puffy skin, eyes still studying her face.

YN’s heart rate spikes up like she didn’t just spend the last twenty minutes trying to regulate so that she didn’t feel like she was going to pass out.

It was impossible for her to decipher right now if Harry was just genuinely an affectionate, touchy person or whether he was flirting with her.

Not once has YN seen Harry touch her in the same way he was doing to her now - delicate, careful like she was made of the most breakable china he’d ever held.

There’s a jostle at the front door, a key turning into the lock, and YN jumps back out of his hold as he drops his hand, picking up the knife once again.

YN sits down at the kitchen table instead of trying to help, unlocking her phone, and trying to dissociate at whatever pops up on her timeline.

“What is this?” Kay laughs when she walks in, dropping her purse on one of the chairs as she smiles at YN before walking over and wrapping her arms around Harry from the back.

Harry…doesn’t stop cutting the vegetables but does tilt his head to the side look at her, she leans up to kiss his cheek before peeking over his shoulder, “Stir-fry?”

“With shrimp,” Harry tacks on as he turns back from her to focus on his work, his demeanor wasn’t necessarily drastically different but still…different.

Kay didn’t seem disgruntled by his attitude as she rubs his back for a few moments which YN tries to not get jeaous about because it’s not her place to be.

Then she’s plopping down in the chair beside YN, “Sorry, I forgot to text you and tell you I picked up an extra shift. Harry didn’t get the memo until he was already here.”

YN glares at her friend, “I know. I thought you were home, showering, and barged into the bathroom. Only to invade Harry’s privacy.”

Kay lets out a peel of laughter, eyes twinkling and completely unbothered, “It’s even now, right?”

“Huh?” YN asks, not sure what she meant as Harry turns around after adding the lo mein noodles to the boiling water, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed.

There was slight amusement at the tilt of his lips.

“He saw your tits. You saw his dick,” Kay shrugs with another hearty laugh, “You’ve got amazing tits. He’s got an insane dick so-“

“Kay,” Harry cuts in, a bit curt and disapproving, “It was all an accident. We don’t need to go into detail about what we all looked like naked.”

“Well you’re both hot and I’ve seen both of you naked, maybe I’m feeling a little inferior. I have a bombshell best friend and the hottest boyfriend. It makes me feel like chopped liver.”

Kay was looking for validation, specifically in Harry but he was not feeding into her behavior, “Kay, this really isn’t appropriate. Let’s drop it.”

It was not a suggestion.

However, that’s how Kay saw it.

“I’m just bragging, H. Chill out. Does it not inflate your ego if I talk about how big your dick is?” Kay was immature, admittedly and no better than a crude man on her best days - her thought patterns more perverse and blunt than most females.

“Kay,” Harry’s voice is sharp, a tone YN hasn’t hear before as he puts down the knife, “Let’s go to your room for a minute.”

YN sits awkwardly at the table, any butterflies from the interaction with Harry earlier we’re completely gone because of this.

YN could heard Harry’s voice raise, he wasn’t shouting but it was louder than his normal range of volume which lead her to believe they were fighting.

Kay was immature, Harry couldn’t train that out of her, and that’s why YN was surprised when she went for someone like Harry because she usually dated boys younger than her by a year or two - they matched maturities better.

YN stands up, walking over, and taking it upon herself to continue to chop the veggies while politely trying to ignore any of their conversation.

When they walk back out a few minutes later, Harry comes up beside her, just slightly bumping his hip against hers, and saying quietly, “Thanks, sucha good helper.”

It should sound patronizing but it doesn’t, Kay isn’t in here yet, and YN wonders if he would have said that in front of her.

Kay comes back a few minutes later, mood the same, and clearly trying to act like she didn’t just get chewed out by Harry as she makes small talk about work.

+_

YN struggles to sleep that night. 

Her stomach was rumbling because she didn’t indulge in too much of the stir-fry that he had cooked because of the tension between the couple.

Kay was making passive aggressive jabs in her ever cheery cadence while Harry gave her a very serious look, jaw twitching as he harshly chewed.

YN hid out in her room for the rest of the night.

Now it was biting her in the ass because she was starving.

As YN pads out, she has to go through the living, not thinking much when she flips the switch so that the floor lamp in the corner will illuminate some of the space.

There’s movement that makes her jump.

Harry was on the couch, YN had clearly woken him up as he stretched, trying to blink and adjust to the light as he takes in a deep inhale.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” YN turns off the lamp quickly, basking them in darkness again and muttering, “I can find the kitchen without the light.”

YN then proceeds to bump her thigh extremely hard into the side corner of their end table before she’s toppling over for the second time that day.

“Fuck, pet,” Harry curses, his voice sounded different, thick with sleep and a rasp that made it sound like he was a smoker, “What are you doing?”

Harry leans over, turning on the lamp, and squinting until he sees her on the floor, concern crossing his face as he pushes himself off the couch, and knelt beside her.

YN has tears prickling in her eyes, that really fucking hurt, she had already busted her lip today, and god, she looked like such a fucking idiot.

Harry’s voice goes soft again, like he’s just found an injured baby animal, “Oh darling, c’mon. These tears are too much. S’heartbreaking.”

“I just-“ YN hiccups, clutching her thigh that’s pulsing with her heartbeat, “I keep embarrassing myself in front of you and I don’t know why. Plus, my thigh hurts.”

Harry’s frown deepens, “You never need to be embarassed around me. Two times I’ve given your a surprise, s’on me, really. Let’s go put some ice on that.”

Harry helps YN up, guiding her to the kitchen and she yelps when she feels his big hands on her waist, placing her on the kitchen counter.

She was very aware that she was only wearing a big shirt with no pants on, a soft very tame pair of gray panties, and she flushed further.

Harry grabs a bag of frozen green beans, wrapping it in a hand towel, and taking it upon himself to nudge her shirt up her leg until he can place it in the injury.

“Why were you sleeping on the couch?” YN asks while she holds the bag in place, ignoring the ache.

Harry leans against the counter, opposite her, “Kay and I weren’t getting along. I decided to sleep on the couch so that we could have some space.”

“If this is about earlier, about the shower thing-“ YN begins to apologize.

“No, no,” Harry shakes his head, sighing heavily as he runs his hand through his hair, “We’re going through a rough patch in general. We’re just trying to get through it. We’re different in a lot of ways, we butt heads a lot.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you can make things work,” YN replies softly, free hand picking at the raggedy hem of her shirt.

“Yeah,” Harry bites the corner of his lip, “Why are you awake?”

YN blinks at him, sheepish as she admits, “I’m hungry. Dinner was tense and I wanted to give you guys space. I didn’t eat enough.”

Harry’s expression becomes one of disapproval, “Pet, s’not a reason not to eat. Let me make you somethin’ as an apology.”

YN shakes her head, “You don’t have to do that. I can get something myself.”

“Please? It will make me feel better,” Harry insists, standing back up straight and scratching at his stomach, his hair a bit haywire.

He was so fucking attractive it was sickening.

And this man was sweet to her, offering to cook her meals, and exceeding any of her previous boyfriends - they weren’t even dating.

YN couldn’t determine whether Harry was flirting or just being kind, he didn’t treat Kay like this which was the off thing.

The exact opposite, it actually seemed cold and distant most of the time towards her, his patience limited and his mood dropped.

“Do you like pancakes?” Harry asks, already moving to the fridge to pull out ingredients, “I have a special recipe from my gran that makes ‘em extra fluffy.”

“I have an awful sweet tooth,” YN hides her eyes with her hand for a moment, “I’ll never say no to pancakes, especially if you add chocolate chips. You better be careful, I might fall in love.”

YN freezes because that was definitely not the best thing she could have said, her eyes go wide and lips part in her own surprise.

“I better make them with chocolate chips then,” Harry says casually as he turns to open the cabinet like YN didn’t just nearly have a heart attack nor like she didn’t have to squeeze her thighs together.

YN watches his back as he cooks, the defined muscles flexing when he stirs the batter.

“More,” YN orders from her seat on the counter, swinging her feet.

It felt horribly romantic when he turned around, a mixing bowl in the crook of his arm.

“No more, s’not a dessert,” Harry chides as he reaches over to sprinkle a few more into the mixture like he was easy for her.

“Thank you,” YN hums with a smile, she wishes it wasn’t late because soft music in the background would be even better.

When Harry pours two onto the hot pan, he doesn’t turn around and he keeps his voice steady, “I wouldn’t guess Kay and you would be friends.”

YN shouldn’t but she does, “I wouldn’t guess you and Kay would date.”

Harry shakes his head with a chuckle, “We are not very similar, are we?”

“No, usually Kay dates people very much like herself,” YN tells him, fingertips dancing against the countertop.

“Which is?”

YN bites her lip, trying to say it in the most gentle way, “I love her but she…marches to the beat of her own drum, she doesn’t take things too seriously, and can be reckless. She has a history of dating guys who are younger, don’t have their life planned out.”

Harry turns to look at her after flipping the pancakes, his eyes were intent but he didn’t seem offended by the words she spoke.

They weren’t meant to be offensive, they were the facts.

“And what am I?” Harry raises his eyebrow, “A too serious, stuck up prick?”

“Precisely,” YN grins wide enough that it takes up her entire face.

Harry narrows his eyes before they’re darting down to the bowl of batter.

“Harry, no,” YN laughs, trying to keep it down because Kay was sleeping and she really should be in her own room right now.

“Mm, I think so,” Harry swipes his finger in the mix before stalking forward.

YN had nowhere to run because she was still sat on the kitchen counter but she fruitlessly tries to scramble backwards. 

Harry’s hand comes to her ankle, wrapping around to hold her as he leans forward and swipes it across her cheek as she kicks weakly at him.

“There we go,” Harry smirks as he moves back, not taking his hand away from her ankle, thumb pressing right under the bone.

YN and Harry both get quiet, chests moving quickly from the struggles, and she’s never felt this much sexual tension before in her life.

Harry’s other fingers press in, she finds herself wishing that they would move upward, it would be easy because she didn’t have anything beside underwear on her lower half.

When YN lets her limbs relax, her leg falls more into his grip, toes bumping at his hip, and his hand moves further to his calf.

They both seem to snap out of it at the same time, Harry is letting go and clearing his throat as YN pulls her leg back.

He turns back to the pancakes, sliding them off pan and onto an awaiting plate.

Harry takes a minute before he’s turning around again, eyes the slightest bit unsure, and YN doesn’t want there to be any awkwardness.

To dissolve the tension, she swipes her thumb along her cheek before popping it in her mouth, “Could use more cinnamon sugar.”

“S’plenty sweet,” Harry grunts as he hands it to her.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to but I haven’t had pancakes in forever,” YN doesn’t use her fork, picking it apart with her fingers and dipping it in the syrup.

Harry turns off the stove, placing the pan and mixing bowl in the sink, running some sudsy water in it as YN eats happily, her thigh no longer hurting - she thanks the chocolate chips for that.

“You’re starting to get sleepy again, huh?” Harry murmurs as YN hands him the empty plate, she nods in agreement, and she slips off the counter, tossing the frozen bag back in the freezer.

“Thank you,” YN mumbles, rubbing at her eye.

“Let me check your leg first,” Harry tells her, kneeling down in front of her, and holy shit, that was a sight for sore eyes to have him blinking up at her, “Yeah? Okay?”

“Okay,” YN’s mouth was dry like the sahara desert.

Harry lifts the hem of her shirt up to her hip, exposing her underwear a bit more than necessary but the thing is, she wanted him to see.

If Kay walked in right now, there would be no excuses, no justification that she would believe because of the heavy way they were both breathing and staring each other down.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry curses with a rasp, his fingertips pressing into her thigh, far enough from her injury that it doesn’t hurt.

YN thinks he’s referring to where she had bumped her leg but when she follows his gaze, it’s on her center where sure as shit there was a spot of her arousal.

Her eyes widen, embarrassed by his find, embarassed by how much she wants his mouth there - she’s never felt such a carnal craving like this before.

“I…” YN’s voice is breathy, high-pitched as she swallows down a whine of pure desire and deep, aching want.

She finds herself burying her fingers in his hair, it was partially to ground her, mostly to guide him towards where his eyes were set.

YN has never, repeat never, been so brazen in her life.

Her brain had shut off the part of her that had morals.

Harry is leaning in as she tugs at the roots of his hair, closer to her center where the want for him was tangible but he’s suddenly jolting back.

“We can’t. You know that, pet,” Harry sits back on his haunches, he scratches his jaw before pushing himself up off the floor.

He runs his hand through his hair, stress visible in his features as they tighten and the smile he gives YN was strained - his dimples didn’t pop.

“I’m sorry,” YN feels like a baby when her bottom lip starts to wobble, she should know better and it sucks how much she likes Harry.

“Don’t cry, s’my fault. Please don’t cry, darling,” Harry voice is hushed but soothing, he steps forward but YN takes a step back.

“I need to go back to my room, okay? We can act like none of this happened,” YN is a shit friend, but how would she even explain this to Kay?

YN doesn’t wait for a response, she’s turning on her heel, and booking it out of the kitchen - straight towards her bedroom to scream into her pillow.

++

YN tries to stay out of the house for a few days, going out with friends, taking an overtime shift at work, anything to avoid seeing Kay and Harry.

However, her luck runs out on day four when she’s comes home after her friend had to cancel plans due to a work thing and she had no choice but to head home.

Kay and Harry were on the couch, her feet were in his lap, and his hands were resting on her calves - there was no other cuddling and it looked rather platonic.

Neither of them look thrilled, but they at least give her a smile when she walks into the room.

While she’s in the kitchen, mixing ingredients for a salad together, she can hear their hushed voices, and it sounds tense once again.

Kay is speaking a bit louder, Harry has a bite in his tone that she has never heard but she couldn’t quite make out what they were talking about.

However, after another minute of their bickering, the front door shuts, and Kay is walking into the kitchen with an uneasy expression.

“I want to talk to you about something,” Kay starts as she sits on the countertop, her eyes only sporadically looking towards YN before darting away.

Oh shit, she knows.

She fucking knows.

YN is about to speak, to apologize, to grovel.

“This is really out of the blue. I don’t expect an answer from you right now or anything,” Kay is looking down at her hands, surprisingly vulnerable, “But I have a major favor.”

“You know I would do anything for you,” YN replies, putting down the mixing tongs and trying to regulate her irregular heartbeat from the spike in anxiety - this is where she gets caught, for what exactly, she doesn’t know but what happened a few nights ago in the kitchen wasn’t right.

“I…You’re bisexual, right?” Kay is visibly nervous, her fingers were trembling, and she was about to bite a hole through her upper lip, trapped between her teeth.

“Yes,” YN doesn’t know where this was going.

Kay knew this.

Kay had met girls YN had gone out with as well as guys.

“I…Fuck, just forget it,” Kay huffs out, acting like she’s about to slide off the counter to leave.

“You can tell me anything, come on,” YN reminds her, moving closer to rub her shoulder.

Kay looks at her hand on her shoulder, taking in a deep gulp before asking something that YN didn’t see coming from a million miles away.

“I want to try…being with a girl, you know? I just feel like there’s no spark sexually between Harry and I. I felt like there wasn’t one with a few of the last guys I dated too and I’m starting to think I’m the issue. Harry is gorgeous, sexy but I just…I don’t have a desire to jump in bed with him.”

That makes one of us, YN thinks.

“Kay…I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” YN pauses, she felt shaky now for a different reason.

“Will you…god, this is so fucking lame but I trust you. I want to hook up with you,” Kay blurts out finally, eyes wide and unsure, she was being vulnerable right now like she didn’t know how YN was going to respond.

YN swallows a gasp of surprise, of course it’s a surprise hearing that one of her best friends wants to sleep with her, to experiment.

“Is that what you and Harry were fighting about?” YN asks instead of giving her an answer, she needed more information before she said yes.

Kay was cute, attractive but wasn’t YN’s type.  It wouldn’t necessarily be a hardship to hook up with her but she can say that it has never crossed her mind that she would want that.

“Not really,” Kay shrugs mulishly, “We discussed it. He doesn’t think that it’s a good idea that it’s with you, you know? But I feel comfortable with you, I don’t want to go out and find a random girl to try it out with.”

YN flushes at the thought of her having this conversation with Harry, with Harry telling Kay that it wasn’t a good idea, “He wants you to go hook up with a random girl?”

“He supports whatever decision I make to try to figure myself out a bit more. He didn’t tell me I could or couldn’t do anything but he wants to be there,” Kay adds another bombshell, like this already wasn’t insane enough.

“What?” YN’s eyes were wide as saucers.

This had to be a prank.

This was not real life right now.

Kay laughs nervously, “I know it’s insane, okay? Harry and I aren’t the norm though. Not at this point, I don’t know what I want but I don’t want to break up with him. I’m being selfish and he for some reason or another loves me enough to see this through.”

The thought of Kay and Harry talking about love makes her stomach churn when she has no right to feel nauseous thinking about that.

“He suggested I find someone we could have a threesome with,” Kay was finally starting to make more consistent eye contact but YN doesn’t think she’s ever seen her this unsure of herself as she picks at her bottom lip.

“And he is okay with it being me?” YN clarifies, it’s not for the right reasons, she wants to know that Harry wants her just as much - it’s not right.

“Like I said, he thought it would be better if it was someone less close but I always really thought that you were attractive and…yeah,” Kay trails off before actually answering the question, “He said that if I ended up choosing you, that would be okay with him too. He didn’t care either way.”

YN feels like an asshole for feeling disheartened about it, that he wasn’t jumping on the chance to sleep with her without any strings attached, it made her feel a bit anger like he was leading her on but she was quite sure that she wasn’t imagining things.

“I’ll do it, yeah,” YN agrees with a wary smile, “Anything to help you out.”

“You’re the best,” Kay squeals, suddenly excited and all the nervousness that had seemed to have left her body as she jumps off the counter, and very unexpectedly steps into YN’s space, cupping her cheeks, and bringing her in for a kiss.

YN’s freezes for a moment, just taken aback by the action but Kay’s lips are soft, she doesn’t want to push her off and make her feel embarrassed, and it had been awhile since she had any intimacy so it wasn’t unwelcome.

Kay tasted like something sweet as she parts her lips, YN finds herself slipping her tongue into her mouth, and though the feeling isn’t nearly as fiery as it was when Harry just merely touched it, it still felt nice.

YN doesn’t know how long they stay like that, YN with her hips pushed back against the countertop, and Kay boxing her in, hands not wandering much, keeping one of the side of her neck, and the other on the curved space between her ribcage and hipbone.

Long enough that someone clears their throat and makes them jump apart.

Harry.

He was back, with a bag of groceries in his hand, and a downright scary expression on his face.

His eyebrows are knitted tightly together, a crease in the space that exists, his lip was twitching to hide the way he was grinding his molars together but the flex of his jaw gave away what his was doing as he loudly lets the bag spill onto the table.

It’s almost worse that he does not say anything or acknowledge it.

“I’m making eggplant parmigiana,” Is all the he says, without looking at either of them, and unloading this onto the countertop surface with a bit more force than necessary.

YN knew her lips were puffy, swollen from how into Kay had been.

It was…nice but YN wasn’t necessarily disappointed that they got interrupted either, she wasn’t dying to do anything further either.

Not like how she would have done just about anything to have a few more minutes with Harry that night.

YN questions whether any of this was true, whether Kay really did discuss it with Harry because by the way his shoulders were bunched up and his movements were sharp and almost agitated, it really didn’t seem like he was okay with sharing his girlfriend.

“I’m going to go out for a bit,” YN wasn’t planning on it but she really didn’t want to be in the middle of whatever conversation was about to happen.

“YN, no. You don’t have to,” Kay starts to assure her, glaring over at Harry like she wants him to change his attitude but he doesn’t look at either of them nor does he give any input as he starts to take items out of the bag.

“No, I had plans already,” She lies, quickly retreating from the kitchen and into her bedroom.

It’s no surprise when she hears their voices travel back towards her bedroom, they’re not yelling at each other but it’s definitely not a gentle, easygoing conversation if the way it echoes is anything to go by.

YN frantically texts a few friends, begging to see if anyone was willing to go to eat or get drinks because she wanted to try to be out of the house as late as possible tonight, hopefully not getting home until both of them were asleep.

++

YN is lucky enough that her friend, Mindy, invites her to tag along to a work outing that they were having to celebrate the startup company’s anniversary.

It was at a bar in the middle of the city where the drinks were comped and it was easy to let the liquor slip down her throat, again and again as she took advantage of the free alcohol to ease the mindfuck that had happened to her earlier.

Did Kay really suggest those things?

Did Kay really kiss her?

YN drank until those questions became a bit quieter and she became a lot more fuzzy.

++

YN was still happily buzzed when she was dropped off by the uber at her apartment building's doorstep, not drunk enough that she stumbled as she made her way in but not sober enough that she didn’t have to squint at the numbers on the elevator panel until they made sense.

YN was uncoordinated on a good day so any alcohol just made that amplified, it was a mission to try to riffle through her small clutch to find her housekeys - it was a tiny bag, where could they be?

She tries the doorhandle just to see if they had left it unlocked but they didn’t which makes her thump her head against the wood of the door as she blearly brings her clutch closer to her face to dig through, her lip gloss falling to the ground.

“Shit,” YN huffs as she leans down, hearing the click of the lock being turned and the door is opening.

YN stands up to see Harry at the door, a pissy expression on his face but he doesn’t look like he has been sleeping despite the late hour, it had to be past two in the morning by this point because she truly did lose track of time.

He doesn’t say anything but steps aside to let her in.

“You’re killin’ my buzz,” YN grumbles as she steps through the doorway, leaning down to attempt to unstrap her heels but then she actually does trip over her own feet like a baby deer learning how to walk on new legs.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Harry replies in the most morbid, monotone drawl - not one ounce of sincerity in his voice.

When she stumbles again, Harry grips her arm, “Enough. Sit down. I don’t need you getting injured for a third time for fucks sake.”

YN frowns, she doesn’t like how cold and distant he sounds but she does like the pressure of his hand on her body.

She easily obliges, sitting down on the entryway bench, and he kneels down in front of her.

YN’s heart rate spikes because it’s extremely reminiscent of that night.

“Kay kissed me,” YN blurts out, trying to keep her voice down, unsure of whether her friend was still awake but she highly doubted, she regrets the words as soon as they slip out, she didn’t mean to throw her friend under the bus but she didn’t want Harry to be mad at her.

Harry bites at the corner of his lip as he undoes the strap around the ankle of her right foot, slow and methodical, focused without looking up at her, “Did you want her to kiss you?”

YN is a bit taken aback by the sharpness of his tone.

When she doesn’t respond, he blinks up at her from under his lashes, his eyes were unfairly pretty under the yellowish light from the fluorescents of the lamp on the entryway table - green with nearly golden specks, flickering through and highlighted.

“Did you want her to kiss you?” Harry repeats, cold, distant, nothing like his norm.

YN doesn’t know how to reply.

Honesty is the best policy and the warm liquor that was running through her veins was helping the cause that would have normally been much harder for her to speak her mind. YN feels fat tears welling up in her eyes, the kind that sting, mixing her makeup into the saline that starts to make her blink furiously - using the heel of her palm to roughly swipe them away.

Harry slips off the first shoe, setting it neatly to the side before looking up at her again, waiting for the answer, “Tell me.”

Her bottom lip wobbles, it’s hard to maintain the intense eye contact that he was giving her as she shrugs, mulish and unsure, “It was unexpected.”

Harry seems to hesitate for a moment, “Did you enjoy kissing her?”

YN squeezes her eyes shut, hoping that Kay didn’t hear, hoping that he didn’t repeat this to Kay.

“It wasn’t bad,” YN skirts the question.

Harry puts his hand on her knee, gripping gently, “Talk to me. I know she threw a lot at you at once.”

“You don’t want me to be involved,” YN huffs, childishly enough like she was dealt an injustice.

Harry’s teeth grit like they did earlier, his fingertips pressing in slightly, “I never said that. I said it might not be the best idea because you two live together and are close. However, she clearly doesn’t take my advice, stemming from the fact that she calls you her ‘bisexual awakening’.”

YN raises her eyebrows at that, Kay hadn’t specifically said that, sure, she mentioned that she thought that YN was attractive but it had not been specifically mentioned that she had that much attraction towards her.

“What do you want?” YN’s nearly whispering now.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, it’s not about me,” Harry deflects, YN’s realizing that he’s really good at that.

“What did you think when you walked in and saw us?” 

“It’s not important. You agreed, right?” Harry clarifies, moving now to take off her other heel.

“I did,” YN swallows, blinking down at him, her heart felt like it was going to give out.

“You know why I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Harry meets her gaze again, intense and unwavering.

“You just said because we’re close,” YN repeats what he had just said.

“There’s a much bigger reason it’s not a good idea and you know that,” Harry face is serious, terse as he slips the strap from the small golden buckle. “Say it,” YN replies, unsure where the bravery came from, maybe she was just tired of him being constantly vague and noncommitall, “Tell me why then. Spell it out.”

Harry’s eyes become stormier, he places the heel next to it’s pair before sitting up further, until he suddenly moves.

His hand coming up to cup her neck, just like Kay ahd done but it was with more intention, not the timidness or hesistaation that her friend had, this was pure confiddence as he uses his grip to pull her face closer to his.

YN’s lips instantly part in a surprise, quiet gasp, and instinctually she parts her legs to give him room to situate hiself in between her, to get closer.

His lips are just about to touch hers but then he stops, “This is why it isn’t a good idea.”

Then he’s pulling back, standing up, and stalking back down the hall away from her without another word.

What the fuck.

++++*_

Thoughts?🫣

[jo-speaks]

good graces ft. quinn hughes

in which…

quinn hughes realizes you'll be okay, with or without him.

warnings: MDNI. brief smut (again, it's like a paragraph), mature language, mentions of cheating, and i think that's all.

track three in short n' sweet (hughes brothers version) series!

When I love you, I'm sweet like an angel

Drawin' hearts 'round our names

And dreamin' of writing vows, rockin' cradles

“What’re you doing?” Quinn asked, wrapping his arms behind you as you shut the oven door, leaving the sweet treat you made to bake.

You took off your oven mitt before sighing and leaning back into his hold. “Baking cookies. You said you wanted some this morning, right?

He let out a soft laugh, “Yeah. How did you hear that though?”

“It’s not like you’re quiet when you’re on the phone with Conor.”

Quinn rolled his eyes playfully, dismissing your comment about how comfortable he was when talking to his teammate. He set one of his hands to lean back against the kitchen island where he felt a piece of paper under his palm. He furrowed his eyebrows, creasing the sheet slightly to pick it up. 

After a quick examination, he realized it was the recipe you had written down for the cookies. In the top corner of it, he saw his initials next to yours, enclosed in a heart. Quinn felt a warm feeling in his chest knowing you had done that, not caring if he saw it or not.

He held the paper in front of your face, which you had buried in the crease of his right elbow. “What’s this?”

You traced your eyes over the paper, “The recipe for the cookies? Don’t tell me you can’t read all of a sudden.” He gave you a thin-lipped look before tapping his finger over the childish drawing causing your eyebrows to lift in realization. “Oh, that. Got bored, thought it was cute. Something we could show the kids.”

Now it was his eyebrows that rose, “Kids? Like our kids?”

“Yeah, two of them. One of each. We can have them after our billion-dollar wedding.” You stated that like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Quinn knew you weren’t entirely serious. The two of you had this conversation a few months ago and he knew you wanted him to focus on his hockey career while you focused on your career. You both agreed you didn’t want to rush into anything until you were settled. And since Vancouver had been his home for 6 years and yours for 5 of those when you decided to move in with him, maybe it was time to start putting down those roots together.

Don't mistake my nice for naive

“Y/N, please. You’re being ridiculous. You were the one who told me to come in the first place!” Quinn called out to you as you walked away from him.

You stopped and turned back to face him, “Because I thought you’d have fun celebrating with your team here! Not flirt with the bartender the whole night!”

He rolled his eyes, setting you off even more. “I wasn’t flirting with her! I was getting Brock his drink!”

“Whatever, Quinn. I’m going home.” You sighed, not wanting to continue arguing with him in front of a bunch of people.

“I wasn’t flirting.” He mumbled, defeated.

You almost felt bad for reacting the way you did, but you knew him. The half smile and constant nodding all while keeping his eyes on her lips as they moved. 

You weren’t stupid.

I don't waste a second, I know lots of guys

You do somethin' suspect, this cute ass bye-bye

Like, ooh

Baby, you say you really like it being mine?

So let me give you some advice

After the whole bar argument, you decided to repay the favour a few days later when you had gone out to that same bar with your girlfriends. The same night you knew the Canucks would be celebrating their victory there. You watched the door attentively before a tap on your shoulder caught your attention.

“Y/N, this is Josh. He thought you were cute!” Was the only thing your friend said before walking away. The stumbling in her steps was the only thing you needed to explain the situation. 

Josh rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he placed his drink down on the bar and took the seat next to you. He cleared his throat, “Hey. Pretty interesting friend you have there.”

You snorted, “Tell me about it. You should see her sober, she’s still the same way.”

He laughed, “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting alone?”

Before you could answer, you heard the bar erupt in whistles and clapping. You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who had walked in. Josh glanced over your shoulder, getting a view of the team himself. His focus came back to you when you tilted your head to interrupt his view. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. But to answer your question, I’m just here because I’m pissed at my boyfriend.”

You noticed his face drop before returning to the way it was before, “No way. I’m here because I’m pissed at my girlfriend!”

Your eyes widened at his confession, letting out a small chuckle. “Yikes, you’re an asshole.”

“Yeah?” He propped his arm on the bar, “How are you not?”

“Well for starters, I’m not approaching anyone. Second, my boyfriend just got here, so he knows where I am. And it doesn’t take a genius to know that your girlfriend has no idea where you are.” You answered, seeing the team take a seat at the tables next to where you were sitting.

As Josh sat in front of you, stunned at your words, you caught your boyfriend's eyes. He took a double take, not realizing it was you the first time. You looked away, bringing your attention back to the man in front of you as Quinn kept his on you.

“Who’s your boyfriend?” Josh asked.

You smirked slightly, “Quinn Hughes.

Josh’s eyes widened, “Bullshit.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer so you could talk in his ear and look over it to lock eyes with Quinn. “Don’t believe me? You’ll see who walks over to you when I leave.”

You backed up and got off your stool, heading to the bathroom as you kept eye contact with your boyfriend as you passed him. After you did, you heard him get up, his footsteps going the opposite way from where you were heading.

~

“What the fuck was that,” Quinn grumbled as he got into his car.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Quinn scoffed, “This is fucking gold, Y/N. You were all over my ass for doing the same shit on Tuesday, but when you do it’s all good.”

“Yeah, no. See, the difference between what I did tonight and what you did earlier this week is that I actually wasn’t flirting, I just wanted you to see what it was like to feel how I did when I saw you actually flirting with someone else.” You retorted, knowing how ridiculous the words coming out of your mouth sounded to him.

Yet on some level, Quinn knew you were right. He sighed before reaching over the center console to take hold of your hand. 

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t sober, but I still knew what I was doing. I don’t want to lose you over this, so please tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” He whispered.

You turned to look at him, “You like being my boyfriend?”

He nodded.

“Then don’t lie to me.”

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that so fast

'Cause no one's more amazin'

At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2

I won't give a fuck about you x3

That was cool

I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3

Yeah

“She’s the last person I’d want to piss off,” Jack told his brother over the phone as Quinn finished up telling him the whole bar fiasco the two of you had gone through a month ago. 

“Tell me about it. I’m not just saying this because she’s my girlfriend, but she’s literally always right. It’s getting scary.” Quinn confessed, pulling his car into the parking garage of the apartment complex.

Jack sighed, “Well, shit. Good luck with that, bro. Lukey’s calling you later, I gotta go.” 

Quinn said goodbye to his brother, hanging up the phone as he stepped out of his car, grabbing the bouquet of flowers he had gotten you for no reason. After the whole situation, he knew he couldn’t only make it up with verbal apologies. So he went old-school, settling for getting you flowers whenever he felt like they were needed. 

He stepped into the elevator, rocking back and forth on his heels as he reached your floor, walking out the second the doors opened. 

As he unlocked the front door of your shared apartment, he could hear you talking in the kitchen. 

“Yeah, I don’t know. I didn’t want to forgive him, but he’s making up for it.” You said to whoever you were talking to over the phone. 

Quinn stepped in quietly, your back still turned and your AirPods in your ears as you cooked dinner for the two of you. Still unbeknownst to you, Quinn walked to the hallway across from the kitchen, wanting to hear your conversation. 

Was it wrong to eavesdrop on you? Yes. Did Quinn know this? Also yes. Did he care? Not really. 

You let out a sigh, “Listen. He knows better than to do that to me. He also knows that I’m the last person he wants to fuck with because I can switch up incredibly fast. If he wants to cheat on me, he can go right ahead. But he knows damn well I’ll be out replacing him that same night.”

His face dropped. He knew that you were telling the truth, which is what scared him straight. 

“I don’t give a fuck if he wants to go out with Bella Hadid. If he does that without breaking up with me, I’m going straight to his mother and maybe even social media if I’m feeling petty enough.” You laughed, but there was nothing you were joking about. 

By now, Quinn wanted to ignore any woman that came his way.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love him so much. So much to the point where I would get down on my knee and propose to him. But, if so much as lies to me about anyone or anything, he’s gonna need a good lawyer.”

I'll tell the world you finish your chores prematurely

Quinn lined himself up in between your legs, pushing into you completely in one swift movement. You let out a breathy moan as your nails dug into his biceps. He didn’t move, letting not only you but himself adjust to the feeling. 

“Fuck, Q. You feel so good.” You mumbled, your brain foggy from the feeling of him being buried inside of you.

He mumbled something you didn’t quite understand before pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back into you completely. He did this a few more times before letting out a guttural groan, spilling into you.

This caught you completely off guard. Quinn had never finished this quickly before nor had he cum before you did. When he came to, he realized what had happened.

“Shit.” He mumbled, too embarrassed to move or even look you in the eyes.

You cleared your throat, pressing a soft kiss to kiss lips. “It’s fine, babe.” You pushed his body back, pushing him out of you. “I can just use my hand.”

He shook his head, finding his voice once again. “No, let me do it. I don’t- I don’t know what happened.”

Break my heart and I swear I'm movin' on

With your favorite athlete

Shoot his shot every night

Want you every second, don't need other guys

You were scrolling on your phone, swiping up on all the notifications you were getting from Instagram, seeing as you had just posted. 

Quinn was featured in a few of the pictures, drawing the attention of his friends and fans to your account. Your head was propped up on Quinn’s lap as you lay on the couch as he played his video game on the living room TV. 

One notification caught your eye as you furrowed your eyebrows seeing the DM request that had come through. 

‘rjosi90 wants to send you a message.’

“Hey babe? Who’s this?” You asked, turning your phone around to show him the account.

He paused his game, looking down to look. “You don’t know who Roman Josi is? He was that guy you met at the awards ceremony, remember?”

“Oh! The one you never shut up about!” You teased as soon as you remembered the name.

Quinn rolled his eyes, nodding at your words before resuming his game but keeping his attention on your conversation. “What did he send you?”

You opened the message, your eyes widening as you internally debated on telling him the truth, not knowing how he would react. But, you knew you wouldn’t want him lying to you if he got the same message from another woman, so you decided to be honest.

“He said he thinks I’m pretty and that you’re a lucky guy.” You read, eyes quickly flashing back to Quinn.

His cheeks were red and his eyebrows were knitted together. You looked at his hands, which were now gripping his controller so tight that his knuckles were going white. “Are you gonna respond?”

Hesitantly, you shook your head, “Not if you don’t want me to.” 

Quinn had never been an insecure person, but he wasn’t always confident. And your delayed reaction probably didn’t help. You let out a breath before grabbing the controller out of his grip and setting it to the side. 

You sat up, swinging your legs on either side of his lap and taking his face in between your hands. “Hey. I want you. Only you.”

You pressed a kiss on his lips which he barely returned out of his own frustration. Pulling back, you started to litter kisses all over his face in an attempt to cheer him up. Trailing from his lips to his cheeks, then to his jaw, and stopping on his neck. You sucked on a sweet spot that caused his hands to come up and settle on your hips. 

“I don’t want anyone but you, Quinn.”

You do somethin' sus, kiss my cute ass bye

As you stepped into his room, he quickly shut off his phone and turned it face down. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stood in the doorway.

“Am I interrupting something?” You questioned.

He shook his head rapidly, clearing his throat as he rubbed his hands together before walking over to you. “Just caught me off guard.”

You scanned his face. His cheeks were flushed and his face was sweaty. Not wanting the answer you thought it was, you gave him a look before speaking again. “Was just gonna ask if you wanted to watch a movie with me. But if you’re… busy, I can just watch it by myself.” 

Quinn cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. Let me just do something really quick and I’ll be right out.”

You simply shook your head, walking out of his room and heading back to your room and laying down on your bed with your laptop in front of you as you curled up in a blanket waiting for your boyfriend.

Even though the two rooms were separated by a small hallway, the walls were still relatively thin. You heard his door open and close but his feet remained still. You could hear the noise of his phone keyboard in front of your door, typing one last thing out before he walked into your room.

“So what movie are we watching, pretty girl?” He asked, setting his phone on your bedside table.

You eyed his phone before looking at him, “Everything okay?” 

He gave you a confused look, “Yeah, why?”

“Sounded like you were typing something important.” You shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of what could be nothing.

But, his wide eyes told you everything you needed to know. You sat up, raising your eyebrows in a way that said “Tell me what’s going on.”

Quinn shifted on his feet. “My ex texted me. She was saying she wanted to meet me for dinner and…” He cut himself off.

“And what?” You pressed.

“She wants to try again.”

You scoffed, “Okay. What did you say?”

He took a breath before answering, “I told her about us and that I’ll pass on the dinner because I’m very happy with you.” The way his words came out, you didn’t fully believe him. Yet at the same time, his face and body language told you he was telling the truth. You could tell he was nervous telling you, but you knew he wasn’t lying.

You nodded your head, “Okay.”

“Okay? What does that mean? I can show you the texts if you want!” He rambled.

Pulling him down onto the bed with you, you wrapped the blanket around him as well before setting the laptop in a way where you could both see it while lying down.

“I trust you, Q. If you say that’s what you told her, I believe you.” You whispered.

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that so fast

'Cause no one's more amazin'

At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2

I won't give a fuck about you x3

Oh, no

I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3 

Oh

No, I won't

I won't give a fuck about you, no, I won't

(I won't, I won't, I won't) x2

Quinn sat in the parking lot of Roger’s Arena. You had driven home early, wanting to beat the traffic seeing as the score by the middle of the third period was 0-4. 

The loss of the game and your going home early left Quinn thinking. 

You didn’t need him. 

Sure, you loved him and you loved living with him and the company and affection he gave you, but at the end of the day, you were completely fine being alone. 

The realization had Quinn wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks as he started up the engine of his car. He drove back in silence, hoping you’d be showering and in bed by the time he got home. 

As he focused on the scenery around him in the late hours of the night, that feeling of sadness fizzled into a feeling of relief. If for whatever reason Quinn left you, you would be okay. And now that he understood that, he became even more determined not to lose you.

Because regardless, Quinn Hughes didn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t his.

[barblaz-arts]

I promised lore about Pugsley's kids forever ago but kept forgetting, sorry. Or more like, I kept putting it off because I wanted some sketches to accompany the lore dump, but I don't think I have the time to do that. So, just... Here.

Dante Addams

- Outcast type: Demon

- Power: can turn into fire

- Mother: was a demon that Pugsley fell in love with but only saw his father as a quick fling. Months after she broke things off with him, Pugsley finds baby Dante left behind on the Addams family doorstep with the note 'Keep him if you want him'

- he's smart and precocious. Vega likes talking to him because they're both intellectuals.

- Pugsley never had the heart to tell him that his mother abandoned him, but he's smart enough to put the pieces together

- just like any Addams, he has a penchant for mischief. His favorite prank is to steal and hide Jasper's legs

- he becomes a member and leader of the Nightshades when he becomes a Nevermore student

Jasper Addams

- Outcast type: Manananggal

- Power: breathes fire

- Mother: She never married Pugsley. Because she's a free spirit who loves to travel, they agreed that Jasper is better off in Pugsley's custody(yes she could have just settled down to help properly raise him. No she didn't do that)

- he loves salty food. Salt is typically deadly to a manananggal, but because he's an Addams, the worst it does is give him rashes

- he's a bit of a klutz. He often loses his legs. He sometimes puts them back on backwards.

- he isn't very confident in himself because he thinks his siblings are a lot more impressive than him.

- he's very popular among his peers in school because of his friendly nature

Briar Addams

- Outcast type: The Faceless

- Power: controls fire

- Mother: she was the only one Pugsley married. She died before Briar was old enough to remember her, but Dante and Jasper have very fond memories of her

- she adores her Tia Wednesday and has a petty one-sided rivalry with Vega. She carries around a doll that looks like her cousin so she can stick needles into it.

- Vega, Dante, and Jasper think she's scary. Very cute, but also scary

- she knows sign language, but mostly just gesticulates like Thing when she communicates. She's a girl of few words anyways.

- she's also very smart but hates school

- she just creeps people out. As a kid, it's initially just because of her appearance. As she gets older, she does things on purpose to make people uneasy around her.

I'll make another post for lore about Sora's parents and Regine's mom later. Maybe tomorrow.

[hitomisuzuya]

Hellloooooooo😖

This is my first time sending a requestttttt-

Before I ask, I hope you're happy and doing greatttttt, I wish you have a great, wonderful, and lovely day tomorrow!! I wish you the best!! I love you and your workkkk, advanced happy birthday to my favorite writer🫶🫶🫶!!

I was wondering if you can do a Yandere Scaramouche with a fem reader where she got kidnapped by him, and when she woke up, he was about to tell her that struggling is useless because she's tied up- but was surprised that she didn't even struggle at all.

He thought that she's only trying to get his trust so that she can escape later on- but when he saw how she seems to reciprocate his actions, and even initiates them sometimes.. He eventually trusted her-

The rest is up to you-!!

(I hope I didn't yap too much😖😖😖

English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if my grammar is bad-.. T-T

And also, to be specific, please make it smut-

Feel free to ignore this if you don't feel like writing it<3!!

Again, I hope you're doing great, take care of yourself, love you, bye bye-!!🖤🖤🖤)

Yandere!Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut Kidnapping. Drugging. Bondage. Degradation. Praise. Creampie. Obsessive/possessive behavior.

Porn with plot this time. This might be a bit longer than I anticipated cause I wanna work on dialogue and detail. I enjoy writing Yanderes ❤️ Smut written while sick, so bear with me🥺

You are way too good for this world, and certainly way too good for the likes of Scaramouche. He knew this. However, this was for your own good. You are strong, but that's exactly why you needed him to protect you. He had to get to you before the unfortunate dregs of life broke you down. Sank it's claws into you, and broke you into a bunch of unfamiliar little pieces.

He more than had experience in the regard.

Scaramouche spent months preparing for this. What he didn't expect was what happened when you finally woke up. The confusion was evident in your eyes when they opened, blinking a few times to focus your vision.

"You are awake," His voice sounded like velvet in your ears, your gaze snapping to him, "Before you woke up, it was real treat for me, you know?" He walked over to the bed, "Getting to see what you look like all tied up for me," His fingers brushed one of your wrists, "Though I am starting to wonder if blue would look just as pretty on those delicate little wrists of yours."

It took a few moments for everything to catch up with you. Your breath hitched in your throat, a shy embarrassed blush that he often craved to see coated your cheeks, your eyes glancing up. Your wrists were tied together and to the headboard with purple ribbons of silk. "What's happening?" You asked a little weakly.

Scaramouche was surprised at the blush. He cleared his throat. "A valid question. I kidnapped you. You dropped like a brick after I drugged you. I may have used a bit more than I needed, but you haven't been sleeping well lately," He replied, matter of fact.

You sighed softly. "Okay," You nodded, adjusting yourself on the bed a little.

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow. What was with you? What was up with that blush on your cheeks? Why were you being so calm? Why didn't you flinch away from the touch of someone who'd just drugged and kidnapped you?

Did he dare think you'd thought about being tied up for him?

"There is no use in struggling," He added, to which you only looked calm. He put his hand on your cheek, waiting for you to shriek and shy away from him.

Looking into his electric eyes always made your heart shake. "But, I'm not," His breath hitched in his throat as you turned your cheek into his hand.

"Yeah, you aren't. Now," You were no doubt trying to lure him into a false sense of security. That was usually the go to strategy for anyone who got kidnapped.

Perhaps he would keep you quiet with the few extra doses of sedatives for the first few days.

"Fine, leave me tied up for awhile. When you feel comfortable, untie me. I'll prove I won't run away," You said, giving him a soft smile that made him grit his teeth, "I promise."

Scaramouche flinched hearing the words I promise. So, he tested you. Boy did he test you. He would leave little traps to see if you would leave. He left the door unlocked. The windows open. He even left the damn door wide open. And yet when he returned, there you were, waiting for him.

Was this what love and loyalty looked like in another person? Did he finally understand what those things met?

The more he pushed his boundaries to see if you would break, the more you seemed to accept him. He got handsy and grabby with you, holding you down while he pressed lustful, harsh kisses to your lips. His teeth biting at your lower lip, his fingers brushing over all the intimate places he wanted to sink his teeth into.

Scaramouche was drowning both you and him in the obsessive passion he felt for you. And you accepted every bit of it. Even felt comforted by it. And when you said, "I want you to touch me. I want you," crawling to straddle his lap and nuzzling your cheek into his neck, every last bit of control he had shattered like glass.

"Say it," He hissed, his hand gripping the headboard tighter as he drove his cock into your sweet spot, "Tell me you want me while I make you cum on my cock, slut," He groaned, trembling as he felt your gummy walls clench on his cock.

If you could touch him, you would've. Your hands were tied above your head to the headboard, one wrist wrapped in purple silk, the other wrapped in blue (he couldn't make up his mind). "I want you, Scaramouche," You moaned, rocking your hips up to help push his cock deeper inside of you, "I want you so badly. I always have."

Fuck, your moans sounded so fucking sweet. It sent him reeling that someone like him could make someone like you, the purest thing in this world to him, moan so lewdly. Your weeping, abused pussy sucking his cock in. It was all so fucking addicting.

He drank in the sight of you, twitching and writhing underneath him, ribbons rubbing against your wrists from the force of his thrusts. Your eyes half lidded, and drool pooling from the corner of your mouth. Would you touch yourself if he untied you right here and now from how good he was making you feel? Your fingers skating over your clit, making your walls tighter on his cock?

There wasn't one intimate part of your body that didn't have dark, blossoming bruises of passion bitten into it. He'd had his fingers inside of you while he marked you up, feeling you soak his hand as he sucked and bite your skin.

"I fucking hope you know I am cumming inside," He growled, hovering his other hand over your throat. He didn't wrap his hand around it and squeeze. He just left it there to exert his dominance over you. Cum nearly spilled inside of you seeing how much it aroused you.

Seeing your eyes light up hearing that he planned to cum inside. The intimacy made your orgasm curl tighter. "Y-You promise?" You managed, moving your head back, and exposing your throat submissively to him for him to squeeze if he wanted.

Scaramouche couldn't hold back his moans anymore, especially not after that and so sweetly said. "Fuck, I'll pump you so fucking full. What a whore," He groaned. He would pump you so full like he imagined all those nights he jacked himself off to thoughts of you.

He knew he would never get enough of the shy, adoring blush that coated your cheeks when he degraded you.

"You are mine. All mine," His hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him as his cock pulsed inside of you. "Do you underneath me, slut? Or are you too fucked dumb?"

"I'm all yours, Scara. I always was," Your words were said with such tender truth to them. He couldn't detect one single hint of deception in your voice, even as your words broke apart into moans and whimpers.

You couldn't help it. You are in so love with him that it hurt. You'd just been too scared to tell him. Afraid of rejection. He could see it in your eyes. But, he understood that completely. "Shh, it's okay now, kitten," He started to babble, shuddering in pleasure as he pushed one of your knees up towards your chest, "I have you now. Everything will be okay. This horrible world won't ever hurt you," His hips snapped into yours with twice the vigor, "I'll see to that."

Only he alone could taint and corrupt you. Only he could break you down and put you back together as he saw fit. It was all the better for him that you accepted it without hesitation.

"You are close, fuck I can feel it," Your walls were squeezing so deliciously tight on his cock. He placed a rough, passionate kiss on your lips, devouring your mouth for a few long minutes. "And you are crying to," He pulled away, brushing the tears of pleasure falling from your eyes away with his thumb, "Cum on my cock like a good girl. You want me to cum inside, don't you?" He cooed.

You could barely manage a nod, crying out for him as your orgasm hit you. Your cum flooded around his cock, the feeling of your walls craving to milk his cock made cum pulse inside of you.

His fingers relentlessly rubbed your clit, further making you twitch and mewl in bliss as he fucked you through your climax.

"Good fucking girl," Scaramouche said, panting as he pulled out of you. Cum dripped out of your weeping hole. He didn't give you time to catch your breath, however. He was already working his way down between your legs to lick and suck your pussy clean.

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Nightvisions - Spencer Reid

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: This is part 2 to Dead of Night, Reader and Spencer face the fallout of an intense first sexual encounter, which leads to a second one.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: i’m overjoyed by the positive response to ‘dead of night’ and i’m a woman of the people so despite my lack of plan to do a part 2, i wrote one anyway, and this is it! tbh i’m not too sure how i feel about this but i had fun writing it anyway ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW: pervert!spencer, dom!spencer, angst, established relationships, confession of feelings, semi-public sex, noise control, hair pulling, spit, oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it), penetration, creampie, panty stealing, references to knifeplay, slight biting, hickey (kinda?) pet names (angel), fem + afab reader, happy ending

Rating: R, 18+

——

As the work day dragged on you could feel your initial shock and intrigue twist into an anger that burned in the pit of your stomach. Every glance Spencer took at you from his desk across the bullpen made your blood pressure spike, unable to properly focus on the paperwork you had been working through for the better half of the day. Your mind kept drifting, trying to rationalize his potential motives, but the more the thought stirred in your mind the less you could justify it to yourself. You had to hear it directly from him, as soon as possible.

“Spencer, can I get your input on something?” You called him over to your desk, masking the frustration in your voice. He scrambled to his feet, eager to be close to you again for the first time since this morning. He leaned over your desk, glancing at the paperwork in front of you.

“How can I help?”

You pointed to an insignificant line of text as you leaned forward, bringing your mouth inches from his ear.

“Meet me in the conference room in 5 minutes.” You whispered, watching as he gulped and nodded.

“That should be good.” He said as a cover, hoping not to draw suspicion to the two of you before returning to his desk.

You grabbed a file for show and walked to the conference room, checking that the blinds were pulled down over the windows overlooking the bullpen. The minutes ticked by agonizingly slow, starting to pace to keep yourself occupied as you waited for him.

Moments later there came a gentle knock at the door before Spencer slowly opened it, dipping quickly in and locking the door behind him. A short silence hung in the air until your emotions got the better of you, his soft expression causing tears to well up in your eyes.

“How? Why?” You blurted out, a mix of confusion, exhaustion, and desperation playing out in your features. He took a step toward you and you took a step back, keeping distance between you. If he touched you, you might break, shatter into a million pieces and never be put back together.

“Please just let me explain.” His tone held such strong desperation that you almost forgot how betrayed you felt. You wiped a tear from your cheek, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the wall, waiting.

“You left your profile up on your computer one night and I couldn’t help myself, I wanted to give you everything you’ve ever wanted, I always have.” He took a deep breath, for once careful to articulate his words as he watched your expression carefully, searching for any sign of forgiveness.

“I know it was wrong, but I never thought I’d stand a chance with a woman like you if I went about it the traditional way. I never intended on hurting you, but I clearly have, and doing so is the biggest regret of my life.” You wanted to believe him, he seemed so earnest, but the doubt was eating you alive by the second. What if it was all an act? Was the connection you felt that night built on lies?

“Was everything you said in our chats a lie just to sleep with me?” You kept a straight face, fighting back more tears to keep your composure. You couldn’t let him know how badly you were hurt, not if he didn’t mean it.

“Oh god no, angel, everything I said was the truth.” He grew more frantic, nervously stretching his fingers as he fought the urge to step toward you again. He just wanted to hold you, to comfort you in the simplest way he knew how, but he couldn’t do anything that might make you more uncomfortable.

“Don’t call me that.” You snapped, still too frustrated with him at the moment to deal with your feelings for him. He nodded, keeping his mouth shut to resist the urge to ramble on and on about what he felt for you.

“I’m not sure I believe you Spencer, I just don’t know if I can trust you anymore.” Your voice cracked, biting the inside of your lip as you watched his face drop.

“You can.” He weighed the risk and took a step closer to you again, and you didn’t move away from him this time.

“How do I know that?”

“I’m in love with you.”

It was the most confident he’d been all day, his voice unwavering with every word.

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.” Tears threatened your waterline once more, hanging on his every movement as you tried to read him.

“I do mean it, I’ve known from the first time we spent 2 hours talking nonstop on the jet. No one has ever seen me the way that you do.” His eyes were glassy with tears and your heart began to melt, dropping your arms to your sides and finally closing the gap between you.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You took his hand in yours, your thumb swiping over the veins on the back of his hand.

“I didn’t know if you felt the same.” He sighed, averting his gaze from yours.

“I do.” You confirmed, squeezing his hand. He looked at you once more, the tension between you practically suffocating.

He leaned into you, his face dangerously close to yours as he searched your eyes for any lingering apprehension, but there was none to be found. He took a leap of faith, hoping he was reading you right as his lips met yours, his hand cupping the side of your face. You melted into the kiss, allowing him to guide your mouth against his. Your skin grew hot, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as his actions grew more intense, his lips pushing almost bruisingly hard against yours.

His hands moved lower, ghosting down your sides, the slight pressure against your healing cuts from the night before making you shiver. He finally reached the hem of your skirt, slowly hiking the fabric up your thighs. You pulled your mouth away from his, panting for a moment in hopes of catching your breath once more.

“Spencer, we can’t.” You sighed, meeting his hungry gaze.

“We can if we’re careful.” He countered, pushing you gently back until your hips bumped against the large circular table in the center of the room.

“What if someone hears? If we get caught we could lose our jobs.” The rational part of your brain seemed to be dueling with your primal urges, your body betraying your mind as the thought of getting caught only made the wetness between your thighs grow more intense.

“Then you better be quiet.” He whispered, his large hands gripping your hips as he spun you around, bending you over the edge of the conference table. He dropped to his knees, pushing your skirt up the rest of the way to bunch around your hips, humming to himself as he admired your perfect ass. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding them over the curve of your hips and down your legs before pocketing the lacy fabric.

You whined, wiggling your hips back to urge him on.

“Be patient.” He laughed, his voice low. You didn’t have to wait long, his head dipping between your thighs to find your waiting pussy. His strong grip kept your thighs spread as his tongue delved between your folds, quickly giving ample attention to your swollen clit. He was hungry, plush lips drinking in your arousal with every extended lap of his tongue, practically suffocating himself as his nose brushed against your weeping entrance.

You brought your hand to your mouth, biting your wrist to stifle your whimpers as you rocked back against him, indulging in the way he devoured you. He moaned against you, muffled vibrations sending shockwaves through your body, your clit growing more and more sensitive by the second. You were starting to get desperate, riding his face until the table underneath you began to squeak with every rock of your hips. Spencer suddenly pulled away, sitting back on his calves.

“Your desperation is going to get us caught.” He brought his hand between your legs, fingers massaging your clit for a split second before rearing back and slapping against it, causing you to jolt forward. You yelped, a bit louder than you intended from the shock of it, and you swallowed nervously, anticipating his next move.

He rose to his feet, his clothed hips pushing against your bare ass as he gripped your hair in his fist, firmly pulling you upright. You bit your lip to hide your moan, letting him guide your every step as he pulled you across the room, finally pressing your back against the wall.

“Spencer, please.” You sounded more pathetic than you intended but the way his mouth felt on you got you beyond worked up, and in that moment you felt like you needed him inside you more than you needed air.

“Are you going to be quiet?” He questioned, his hand resting on his belt buckle as he waited for an answer.

“Yes, I’ll be good, I promise.” You looked up at him, giving your best doe-eyed look as you began unbuttoning your blouse. He began to undo his belt, letting his pants and briefs fall to his ankles as he held out his hand in front of you.

“Spit.” He commanded, the dominant side of him coming out more with every sweet sound that left your lips. You did as you were told, spitting in his hand to provide a bit of lubricant for him to stroke his cock, fully preparing himself to enter you.

You were mesmerized, unable to look away from the way his shirt rode up his torso, toned but slender stomach flexing with each movement of his hand, his hair falling messily in his flushed face, a thin layer of sweat forming on his skin. You pulled the cups of your bra down, toying with your nipples as you enjoyed the show, feeling like you were watching the most intimate sex tape you’d ever seen.

“Are you ready?” His voice snapped you out of your trance, blood rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment over how desperate you were for him. You nodded frantically, draping your arms behind his neck, pulling him to you. You raised your leg, wrapping it around his waist, looking down between your chests to watch him lineup his cock with your cunt. He pushed the head in, cutting off the gasp that threatened to rip from your throat as he pulled you into another intense kiss.

He sank fully into your tight walls, the soreness you felt from the night before melting away with every stroke he laid into you. You moaned into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as you allowed him to take the reins, his controlling grip digging soft bruises into the flesh of your breasts, then your hip, electricity flowing between the two of you. You pulled away from the kiss, coming up for air, so lost in the feeling that you couldn’t make out any coherent sounds, only gentle whimpers and whines.

“You feel so good.” He moaned quietly, quickening his pace, his hand sliding between your bodies to find your clit, the rough pad of his thumb pressing firm swipes up and down over the swollen bundle of nerves. Your whimpers grew louder, and despite your hazy state, you knew you had to quiet yourself quickly. You pulled him closer, burying your face in the side of his neck, your lips latching onto the soft skin behind his ear.

A groan rose from the back of his throat, your mouth sucking against his pressure point pulling him dangerously close to his release. You swore you were seeing stars, supernovas erupting between your thighs as you started to contract around him, your senses overwhelmed with his touch, crying out against his neck. Your knee began to buckle, your leg almost giving out if it wasn’t for his firm hold on your hip. He continued to pump in and out, helping you ride out your orgasm until you had gained a bit more of your composure, able to support yourself again despite how fucked out you felt.

Spencer felt himself falter and anchored his hips against yours, keeping himself seated within your warm walls as they coaxed him to completion. He quietly moaned your name, his head hung to observe the view of himself pulling out of you. You dropped your leg, still in a daze as you began righting your clothing. After you redid the last button of your top and yanked your skirt back down over your ass, you realized you couldn’t find your underwear.

“Looking for something?” He questioned, that familiar dorky smile plastered across his face. You turned to face him, seeing the lace dangling from his fingertip, but as you grabbed for it he pulled it out of reach.

“These are mine now.” He shoved the fabric back in his back pocket before you could attempt to steal them back again.

“Spencer, your cum is dripping down my leg, I kind of need those.” You took a stride toward him to close the gap between you, hoping to wrap your arm around his waist and take them out of his pocket. Your plan was quickly foiled as he grabbed your wrist, pinning it behind your back.

“You better keep your legs closed then, I’m not giving them back.” He whispered in your ear, his tone low but hinted with mischief.

“Whatever, pervert.” You pulled out of his grip, starting to walk toward the door. Your slight annoyance with his teasing quickly faded, unable to deny that walking back out into the bullpen full of Spencer’s cum was an incredibly hot concept.

“What does that make you, then?” He laughed, running his hand through his hair to make it somewhat presentable.

“An angel, according to you.” You turned back to him momentarily to wink in his direction, giving him a comfortable resolution to your slight outburst earlier.

“Can I see you again? Outside of work, I-I mean.” He slightly stumbled over his words, his dominant demeanor fading back into his signature awkward cadence, clearly a bit flustered by your tongue-in-cheek show of affection. You almost laughed, the question feeling a bit absurd given that you’d both just confessed your feelings for one another in more ways than one.

“Take me out to dinner tonight, I’ll be ready by 6. You have my address.” You smiled, watching a blush rise over his cheeks in response to your callback before unlocking the conference room door and returning to your desk to finish out the workday, eagerly awaiting your first real date with Spencer.

——

tag list: @pleasantwitchgarden @lover-of-books-and-tea @theoraekenslover @placidus

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my spencer reid taglist :)

also tagging those who requested a part 2, thank you for the inspo!: @silver138 @espressoparis @futuremrsreid @charmedkim @lilcuutiee @cryxbabyxxx @c1rcus-baby

[epnusika]

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- GR13F3R Romantic Headcanons

[ The Player! Reader Edition. ]

Author's Note: There are some spoilers ahead.

——————————————————————————————————

•] After his recovery from getting defeated, GR1EF3R was more than beyond pissed that his Dad is telling him to apologize to you. Sure... He did a lot of bad things and initially sent people to get rid of you but... You had it coming! You were trying to steal the Venomshank from him!

•] Now, he's standing awkwardly in your presence once you have returned to Turitopulis. His Dad was standing behind him, waiting and watching if his son would stick to his words. GR1EF3R'S arms are folded across his chest, trying to look cool under the heavy pressure on his shoulders.

"Y0U'R3 B4CK, PUNK... HMPH, T0OK YOU LONG ENOUGH. I 4LMOST TH0UGHT TH4T YOU GOT M4UL3D BY TH3 BE4STS 1N TH3 JUNGL3. Kind of a shame that you didn't...—" — "BRAD!" — "GAH!"

•] His entire apology was pretty pathetic, it was rather pitiful to watch him struggle to get the words out to apologize to you. If anything, his ego wasn't bruised, no. It felt like it was run over by a bullet train, smacked onto the ground, before it was set on fire with humiliation.

•] But... since Mayor Thaniyel wanted you two to get along, he had left you two alone to spend time with each other. GR1EF3R'S obviously repulsed by it. Why should he spend time with the one who beat the crap out of him? He was right about to leave, most likely to return to the big tree in the jungle, until you suggested that you two go to the arcade. Your treat.

•] The next thing you know, GR1EF3R'S hogging up all the prizes of each claw machine in the arcade, being surprisingly good at it.

•] Originally, he was planning to make you go bankrupt but... the moment you started cheering for him as the claw in the machine latches onto a plushed toy, something inside of him clicked, and he changed his mind. So, instead of you, he made the arcade bankrupt instead.

•] As you two headed out of the arcade, carrying four heavy bags of every prize that you won, GR1EF3R realized something. Something that felt... good. He's finally experiencing the feeling of having a companion. Not in online, but purely in reality.

•] He genuinely feels bad. Even after everything he did... You still managed to put up with him. Perhaps that's the reason why he hates you. He thinks you're too soft. You remind him of his Dad. People like you shouldn't...—Wait. No. What the hell is he thinking? He shouldn't care about stuff like this! Especially after you whooped his ass.

•] He's still pissed about it.

•] Regardless, he was pretty upset when he realized that you were going to leave Turitopulis soon. Right... He almost forgot that you were always up and about, rushing off to another one of your adventures or something...

•] It was like you helped him piece together the fragile parts of his heart, only to crush it with your own foot right after you were finished.

•] ...why did you have to leave when he finally found solace in your presence?

•] When the day of your departure arrived, you were met with a disgruntled GR1EF3R.

"H3Y, PUNK. Y0U GOT A PH0N3, R1GHT? ...HUH? WH4T DO YOU M3AN YOU DON'T H4VE—...? UGH, F1NE. H3RE, H4VE TH1S."

•] The next thing you know, GR1EF3R is handing you a cellular phone. From the looks of it, it looks outdated compared to its present-time counterparts. His old phone, perhaps?

"TSK... WHY D1D I EXP3CT TH4T YOU W0ULDN'T OWN ON3...? Maybe it's because you look broke."

•] Says the one who gave his old phone instead of buying a new one.

•] Going through the old phone though, there was one thing that you realized. GR1EF3R's number is in your contacts.

"L3T ME G3T SOM3TH1NG STR4IGHT... DON'T TH1NK TH4T TH3RE'S SOM3TH1NG GO1NG ON B3TWEEN US. GOT 1T? W1TH THE M4SS1VE Z3R0 IN Y0UR FR13ND'S L1ST? YOU SH0ULD BE GR4T3FUL TH4T I'M GIV1NG Y0U MY NUMB3R IN TH3 F1RST PL4CE. NOW GO. 1'M T1R3D OF LO0K1NG AT YOUR F4CE."

•] Not even ten minutes later after you left, he's asking his Dad about when you're going to come back. Looking over to the prizes that you two won in the arcade... He felt ticked off. All of it reminds him of you, surging a bittersweet feeling in his chest because of the short time you spent together.

•] So... when you arrived at your next destination, your phone was being blown up by messages from GR1EF3R. It was just simple messages like 'Hey, you alive?' or 'Hope the plane didn't crash.' but still. It's kind of amusing how he went from wanting you dead to being worried about your status.

•] Messages like this continued between the two of you. Slowly, it shifted to the point that you two had this little texting thing going on between each other. GR1EF3R'S obviously curious about what's going on in your line though. For example, he's asking what's it like retrieving the Ghostwalker? Did you have a tough time fighting enemies? You had to give him updates every hour or so because he wouldn't stop bugging you.

•] Until... you checked your most recent message from him. Exhausted from running away from the enemies trying to get you, you hid away into a secluded spot to regain some energy. You eventually pulled out your phone to check your contacts, and as expected, there was a new message from GR13FER.

"H3Y, SO. TH1S'LL BE OUTT4 POCK3T BUT 4RE Y0U PL4NN1NG TO H3AD B4CK TO TUR1TOPUL1S SO0N? TH3RE'S TH1S N3W 4IRS0FT PL4CE OP3N1NG SOON AND, I N3ED A P4RTNER."

•] Proceeding, he argues that he's totally not asking you out, totes!

"SO... WH3N 4M I GO1NG TO P1CK YOU UP FR0M THE A1RP0RT?"

[hees-mine]

Comin’ back for more - L. HS

Pairing: heeseung & reader

Warnings: smut, protected and unprotected sex, oral, angst, alcohol, multiple orgasms, daddy kink ish, car sex, spitting, dirty talk, fluff, arguing, crying? jealously, cursing, hate sex.

Genre: 18+, exes with benefits, minors do not interact.

Synopsis: after you and your boyfriend of three years break up, it seems that even after you let each other go for good, there's one thing that keeps bringing you back together. With an unspoken arrangement to stay in contact only for the sexual aspect of your relationship, you both find yourself in an unexpected situation. Will that end what little of what was left of your relationship, or will it finally be the missing piece that brings you back together?

-

“Can I come over?” you text your ex-boyfriend, the same old text you’ve been sending for the last couple of months. It’s two in the morning, but you know he’s still up.

He’s always up.

You know this cause nearly every night, you’re at his place.

Why are you going to your ex's place at two in the morning, someone might wonder.

Well, it’s simple you’re just going there to fuck nothing more.

Even though you’re both exes, you’re still the best each other has ever had when it comes to the bedroom, and you didn’t have to think about going elsewhere to get it. Why would you when you could come to your ex, who is a very willing participant?

It started out with him saying he missed you five months after the break up. You both texted for a little bit, but ultimately, he went over to your place, saying it’d be better to talk in person. The talk was more argumentative than it was about finding a solution between one another. Voices rose, and tensions were high. He was yelling, you were yelling, and somehow, you both ended up just mere inches apart, and one thing led to another. Next thing you know, your lips touch, and he’s carrying you to the bedroom, both of you quickly stripping off your clothes and laying in bed together, and it was only minutes before he’s hovering over you, panting and giving you the pleasure that only he was capable of giving you.

After the mind-blowing hate sex, you both immediately set up an arrangement to keep in contact only for sex cause you and him could never be an item anymore.

There were far too many arguments and disagreements between you two, and neither of you could seem to get back on track without things only getting worse. The break up was mutual, very mutual, but that didn’t mean it was good for either of you.

You both grieved in your own ways without each other knowing.

But seeing him like this was the better way, no strings attached, but still being able to fuck without any rules or commitments.

“Waiting on you, baby,” he sends back a few minutes later, and that’s when you hop out of bed to take a shower and do your almost nightly routine to shamelessly get ready for your dick appointment.

You didn’t put on makeup cause it’d get smudge anyway, and there was no point in wearing a nice outfit because it would just end up crumpled on his floor while he gave you orgasm after orgasm.

After your shower, you got ready quickly and headed to his place, knowing the directions like the back of your hand. When you arrived, you went to his floor, sticking the key he gave you back when you two were dating into the key hole, twisting the knob, and once you opened the door, he was standing right there waiting for you as soon as you came in clad in nothing but his boxers. “Hi,” he smirks, taking a few steps closer to you.

Rolling your eyes, you kick off your shoes and drop your purse on the ground after shutting his door. “Enough with the small talk. Just take me to your bedroom.”

His brows raise in surprise. Despite hooking up with you like this for the past few months, he still isn’t used to how bold and direct you’ve become after the breakup. When you guys used to date, he initiated most of the time, and you were always a little shy to come on to him, but not now. You wasted no time getting straight to the point.

Now standing directly in front of you, he grabs your waist right hand, crawling up to your neck as you breathe heavily with anticipation. Bending down, he ghosts his lips over yours teasingly and nudges his nose against yours. “Hurry up,” you breathe out, not in the mood for his games tonight.

“Just shut up,” he whispers, closing the gap, his voice far softer than the rough, sensual kiss he gave you. Within an instant, his tongue was down your throat as he kissed you harshly. A few seconds later, his warm tongue began to play with yours while you took turns sucking and nibbling on each other's lips.

He pulled back to take a breath, both your guy’s eyelids hooded with arousal.

He bent down one arm behind the backs of your knees, the other on your lower back. He unexpectedly lifted you up, taking you straight to his bed where he planned on fucking you so damn good.

He lightly tossed you on the mattress. “Up,” he says once he’s stuck his fingers inside the hem of both your sleep shorts and panties.

Obeying his request, you lift your hips, allowing him to strip you of your bottoms. “Already so wet for me,” he teased. “Bet you were at home just thinking about my dick fucking into you. All those dirty thoughts got your little pussy nice and wet, huh baby?” He asks, climbing in the bed between your legs and rubbing your thighs softly.

“Hee jus-“

“Just admit it.” he knew the answer already. He just wanted to hear it come from your pretty lips.

“Yes, hee, you already know how much I need you.” he smiles, satisfied with your response as you writhe in bed, waiting impatiently for him to take you.

“Sit up for me, baby.” You sat up quickly upon his command.

“I’m not your baby anymore, so stop calling me that.” he doesn’t say anything about that and grips the hem of your shirt, lifting it above your head as you put your arms up, helping him rid you of your clothes.

He’s met with the sight of your perky tits that flop out of your shirt on full display for his eyes only.

Placing a hand on your left breast, he squeezes softly, getting the first little whimper out of you.

He pushed you back on the bed hovering over you and placing his mouth on your right tit, sucking your nipple into his warm mouth while kneading and pinching the other.

Your back arched at the feeling, your hands softly resting on his back while he suckled on each nipple. “Hee,” you whined, his name, eyes fluttering closed as you took in the feeling of him pleasuring your breasts and sensitive nipples.

Your hand slowly reaches up until you find his hair, running your fingers through it as he groans softly.

Spreading your legs open with his knees, he rises up from your chest, licking his lips before lowering himself on his bed. “Gonna let me tongue fuck your pussy baby?” He rubs your thighs, fingers smoothing over the soft flesh.

“Yes,” you sigh, pressing your head into his pillows as he watches a glob of wetness seep from your hole.

He dives in immediately, licking at your hole, slurping up your juices, and swirling it on his tongue, savoring the flavor before using the tip of his tongue to teasingly circle around your little hole.

“Hmm fuck” you squeezed your breasts while he licked your pussy, tugging and rolling your nipples between your fingers. The sight of you touching yourself while he tongued your pussy was making him get ridged in his boxers.

He slipped his tongue inside you, pumping in and out of your cunt deliciously before he pulled it out and slipped two long thick fingers inside your slick cunt. “You’re fucking soaking my fingers” he sucks on your clit and begins to curl his fingers moving them in and out of you, listening to your pussy squelching around his digits. “Hear that? So fucking wet,” he pushes in and out slowly, your slick sounds filling up the room, and you almost feel embarrassed by how wet you were for him.

“Hee,” you whined, and he chuckled softly, rubbing the pads of his fingers against your soft, silky walls.

“Taste so fucking good, mmhp baby,” he groans, rutting himself on the mattress impatiently. “I could eat you all fucking day.”

“Yes, hee, I’m so close don’t stop,” You breathe out, your chest heaving up and down as you clench around his fingers. You were just about to cum when he stopped entirely. “Why did y-“

“Turn around,” he quickly orders.

“I hate you,” you say frustratedly as your orgasm withers away, but the pulsing ache between your legs persuades you to turn around and get on all fours.

Read full story here

[abbyfmc]

Yandere Story Idea #25:

I don´t know why, but i love the "yandere emperor" figure. So, here's my idea:

Darling(you) was originally a young woman of high society who was forcibly married to the respective king of her people when he was a prince, against her will. She had a young lover whom the king murdered (because he believed that she was unfaithful) after her family practically sold her; after this, the king mistreated her harshly as punishment for years, while her family insulted and cursed her, even when she tried to explain to them that nothing happened.

These mistreatments and depressions caused her to lose the pregnancies she had, which made her desire for revenge against her family and against that disgusting king begin. She tried to escape several times, but was always caught. It must be said that the king did not love her at all, and was constantly unfaithful, humiliating her to feel proud of himself. All this continued until Darling saved a seemingly ordinary young man who was being persecuted, without imagining that this was one of the sons of the emperor who ruled his kingdom and all the others (it was specifically the crown prince). Due to the pain of the wounds, the young man did not pay much attention to who Darling was, but her sweet voice was engraved in his head, and since then, he could not stop thinking about her.

Later, the boy recovers and sees her more clearly, realizing that she is not only gentle and kind, but she is very pretty. That is when the prince knows who he is, and although he leaves at that moment, he decides that when he takes the throne, she will be his. It is not long before the emperor in power dies and the aforementioned prince ascends; in the meantime, he dedicates himself to investigating more about her and spying on her a bit, ending up falling madly in love with her and causing him to kidnap her and without even asking the king, he annuls the marriage. This is when he becomes the yandere emperor.

Darling is initially upset and outraged, but upon seeing the affection and good treatment that the yandere emperor has (removing all his strictness), in addition to his power over all the kingdoms, including that of her ex-husband; so she decides to put together a plan of revenge since the king not only mistreated her in countless ways (physically, emotionally, sexually, etc …) and moves pieces to earn her place among the imperial court (and more so if the yandere emperor already has an empress or several consorts) and fakes even her way of breathing; she learns the rules and customs of the new palace, as well as purposely approaches the yandere emperor to further awaken his obsession.

What the Yandere Emperor didn't know at first was that Darling had bruises from his mistreatment; these were the reminder of his revenge. Darling made her husband fall even more in love with her, but she still gave him hints about her past suffering as his obsession grew, which made the Yandere Emperor start to investigate. On their wedding night, when they were getting intimate, she slowly took off her clothes and there he finally saw all the bruises; when the Yandere Emperor asked for an explanation, she told him everything.

She tells him about the contempt she experienced; how her family sold her; the forced marriage; the murder of her love; the false accusations made against her; the abuse and mistreatment… everything up until the day he came into her life. She even asked him not to throw her out, since she had nowhere else to go but the imperial palace. Then the yandere emperor promised her that under his care, NO ONE will ever lay a hand on her or insult her again.

Days later, Darling learns that the emperor murdered her family and ex-husband in cold blood, along with the former servants who tortured her. The emperor saw how this made her very happy, as her revenge was successful. Meanwhile, the emperor is also happy, as from now on she will not have to think about anyone else (According to him).

I'm kind of tired of the fact that whenever I read a "Yandere Emperor x Reader" Darling, it's always submissive. I like to think of a Darling who appears to be submissive, but is actually so evil as to use the emperor to her advantage.

[causenessus]

love notes

part 0.1. I KNOW A GUY

"being stupid and being fifteen, the simple mania of no responsibility"

from the gaping mouth by lowertown, left at inarizaki high, hyōgo

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . three years ago. ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

“huh? sakusa, why do you have a stick in your bag?” she watches in surprise as he pulls out a light brown piece of wood

they’re sitting under a tree (on a cloth, of course, they both agree that sitting on the grass would be unsanitary) unpacking their lunches. it’s their first year at itachiyama, only a few weeks in, and they’re still getting situated in their new setting. but the fall weather is nice, and they welcome the nice breeze from the wind. inside is far too noisy for them.

however, when she looks over, he has yet to pull out his food. instead, he’s wielding his stick like a weapon.

“i just have a feeling…something bad is going to happen soon,” he answers, turning his head to scan their surroundings as if something will come leaping out at them any second. perhaps the wooden stick will come in handy if anything pops out of the blue, like two high schoolers.

putting it like that, it didn’t sound that strange. sakusa and her were high schoolers as well, after all. the difference was that they weren’t supposed to be here. they were from an entirely different high school. she had thought nothing of their discolored uniforms until they started coming closer and closer as if they were heading straight for them.

sakusa had noticed them well before her. she had looked towards him to find his head turned away from her, looking down the field towards two small figures in the distance. from that far, neither of them could make out who they were, but as they neared his face contorted. his jaw clenched and his lips were pressed into a thin line as they approached.

“do you know them?” she asked still watching them while sakusa turned back to look down at his food. they looked identical besides the fact that one had gray hair and one had blond hair, their bangs swept in opposite directions.

“omi! are ya happy to see us?” the blond one calls out with a big grin on his face, his other half following behind with a smile that only spelled out trouble.

“what are you guys doing here?” sakusa doesn’t even try to match their enthusiasm, continuing to pick at his food.

“aw, don’t be like that,” the blond continues to whine, “we’re here for our game of course! our school let us out early.”

the two boys both sit down in front of them and she decides to copy sakusa’s posture, paying attention to her lunch instead.

she sees sakusa shift out of the corner of her eye, “no way they let you out this early. it’s like noon.”

she hears a sigh, “yeah, you’ve seen through our little facade…we skipped school and came early, suna’s really pissed we didn’t bring him.”

she’s focused on trying to piece together who the boys in front of her are when suddenly one of them is leaning forward, yellow hair coming into her sight as he tries to peek at her face, “who's the pretty girl here?”

she’s reflexively repulsed backward while sakusa pushes the blond’s face away with his stick. she internally thanks his sixth sense and talent for being overprepared.

“her name is y/n. she’s a photographer for publicity. she’s a good friend and she’ll be taking pictures of the game later today, so back off,” sakusa’s tone is nothing short of hostile, yet she can’t help but give him a smile when he calls her his friend. they haven’t known each other for long, but they’ve bonded quickly over a shared distaste for people and physical contact.

she learns in the next few minutes that the blond’s name is atsumu and his twin brother with him is osamu. they’re both volleyball players for inarizaki, the team sakusa will be playing after school. although initially she was convinced atsumu was the only troublesome one, she quickly learned they were both equally destructive. they'd bickered at least four times in the span of their lunch break, each time being uniquely different and entertaining.

one of her only contributions to the conversation had been making sure the twins had eaten, in which they nodded enthusiastically, explaining that they had stopped at a convenience store before coming here. sakusa had only rolled his eyes, “did you guys even go to school? or did you just come straight here to plague me?”

soon after, she noticed that other students in the grass were starting to pack up and she checked her phone, “oh, lunch is ending soon.”

she’s quick to put away her things, zipping up her bag as she turns back to look at the two boys in front of her. she seems to be thinking the same thing as them, and sakusa is the one to bring it up, “since you guys completely thought through your plan, what are you planning to do while we’re still in class? i’m not letting you into our gym.”

they both place a finger under their chins, looking identical as they ponder the question. “hm, ‘tsumu, i think i have an idea.” osamu wears the same grin she first saw them with and she’s already bracing herself for the kind of plan he’s thought up.

“i think i’m thinking the same thing, ‘samu,” atsumu returns the sly look.

they pause for a moment before they speak at the same time,

“i’m going with dollface.”

“you’re going with omi-omi.”

“come on, ‘tsumu. you’re making her uncomfortable. let her breathe a little before she has to deal with your stinky ass on the court,” osamu scoffs, sticking out his tongue at his brother.

“how dare you! i use deodorant and those hours on the court will be great. besides–” atsumu’s gaze slides from osamu to her, “you’ll get all the good shots of me, won’t ya?”

his stare is intense and it makes her want to curl up. she looks away, trying to cover how red her face is.

“aw look, she’s blushing– FUCK! OMI–” she looks up again and atsumu is holding his forehead while sakusa is once again brandishing his stick. osamu immediately bursts out laughing and has his phone out, taking pictures of his brother.

“you guys aren’t even wearing the right uniform. you’ll get kicked out immediately,” sakusa chides, beginning to stand up and she follows after him, dusting off her skirt.

“don’t worry,” atsumu is quick to recover, bouncing up with a grin on his face, “i know a guy.”

sakusa quirks a brow, but when atsumu doesn’t let up, he groans. “fine, whatever. maybe it’s better that you guys aren’t left unsupervised. but i’m not handling you both. osamu, go with y/n. atsumu, i’ll leave you behind if you can’t catch up.”

the twins share a cheer and high five each other before atsumu runs after sakusa whose already walking away, “don’t worry, ‘samu, i’ll get a uniform and find you!”

he leaves her and his brother standing alone under the tree, and she can’t be bothered to feel surprised anymore at what just happened. sakusa seems like he’s already used to their antics, and she’s starting to feel the same way after one day. when osamu turns to her, she lets him follow along as she walks back towards the school. 

separated from his brother, osamu isn’t that bad. she’s like how he initially perceived him to be, calmer and more observant. as soon as they step into the school, he’s keeping in step with her as he talks, “don’t worry about supervising me. i’m not pushy like my brother. i hate him, and i’ve vowed to never be like him. you know, this may come as a surprise, but no one likes him.”

he smiles when she lets out a laugh, unable to keep it to herself, “you seem like the complete opposite of him when you’re not with him, i was starting to think you guys were just mirror copies of each other and twice the trouble–you bounce off of each other so well.”

he shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets. he doesn’t seem bothered by the looks some people are understandably throwing his way. his uniform stands out in the sea of green they’re walking through. “it’s a curse and a blessing. depends on the day. hey, by the way, do you make your own lunches? it looked like you were eating tamagoyaki, I couldn't tell.”

she nods, “yeah, now that i think about it, i guess i always like having something to do with my hands. if i’m not taking photos, i like to cook.”

“a woman after my own heart!” he slaps a hand to his chest dramatically before he gives her a grin when she looks at him, “just kidding. i promised not to flirt with you, remember? i think omi would kill me anyway. but i do love cooking, and it’s nice to talk with other people who enjoy it as well.”

she hums in agreement. for how similar he and his brother are, she’s not sure she could ever imagine atsumu cooking something edible, but it fits well with what she knows about osamu. “so, there’s one more of you guys coming?” she asks, trying to keep up their conversation until they reach her class.

he doesn’t answer immediately, seeming to think about her question. “oh, suna? i mean yeah, the whole team will be here later since we’re playing omi’s team. but you’ll definitely meet suna soon. we drag him along everywhere.” 

she doesn’t doubt him. if they skipped school just to wiggle themselves into an entirely other different school, it doesn’t sound out of the question that they could force a third person to come along with them on their adventures. her phone buzzes once they sit down and she’s thankful that the seat behind her is empty, hoping that maybe she’ll be able to block most of osamu from her teacher’s view.

much to her surprise, osamu had gone the entire class without getting caught. he’d taken notes as if this was one of his actual classes and even tapped her on the shoulder to show her a text of atsumu getting his phone getting taken away. she’d had to cover her laugh up as a cough. when the bell rang, she almost left immediately out of habit before remembering she had someone following her.

“i need to stop by the yearbook room real quick to grab my equipment for your guys’ game tonight, is it okay if you follow me there before we go to the gym?” she clarifies.

he nods and she starts to lead him out the door. “and you remember suna, right? how he was mad at ‘tsumu and i for accidentally leaving him behind? he wants food in return…is it also okay if we stop by a vending machine?” he asks, walking alongside her.

“oh, sure,” she answers, “did you want me to drop you off there first instead? honestly, the vending machine with the best snacks is by the gym so we’ll pass by it either way.”

“no, that’s fine. i can follow you to the yearbook room,” he shrugs and she keeps walking. it’s nice to have company as she walks through the halls.

“do you know what he wants? i can pay for it,” she looks at him from the corner of his eyes.

“oh, don’t worry about that. he wants atsumu to pay,” he replies and she snickers. in her head, she can already imagine how atsumu flipped out upon being told that. osamu reaches a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “and he uh…he wants jelly sticks.”

she tries to stifle her laugh with her hand but can’t completely muffle it. “sorry, i don’t mean to laugh. that’s just adorable. your friend sounds cute.” atsumu and osamu were both quiet childish as well. when she tried to imagine what suna might look like, he just looked like another version of the twins. if he hung around them, he was at least probably just as silly as them. 

how wrong she was.

she first meets suna rintaro in the middle of a fight. she’s barely pulled back by sakusa before she gets caught in the crossfire.

it started with osamu and her arriving at the vending machine after picking up her equipment bag. she had said something about buying something for herself too and was digging through her school bag for her coin purse when osamu stepped forward. “here, let me pay. what did you want?”

before she could respond, footsteps came stomping down the hall, “no way in hell you’re paying for her, i am!” atsumu had come out of nowhere once again, sakusa trailing a few paces behind, his face mask doing nothing to hide how severely annoyed he looked.

osamu clicked his tongue, “you have to pay for suna and i know for a fact you’re broke as shit! it’ll be a miracle if you can even afford to buy him jelly sticks!” they began to wrestle, osamu pulling at atsumu’s hair while the blond pulled at his brother’s cheeks,

that was when sakusa had pulled her back just in time for a third voice to enter the picture, piercing through all of them and making them freeze in their tracks,

“seriously? you guys couldn’t even buy me food by the time i got here?”

atsumu and osamu are quick to break up their fight, osamu rubbing his cheeks grumpily. “i have no idea what you’re talking about,” atsumu purses his lips as he turns to face the vending machine again, “i’m buying them right now. see? here they are. your jelly sticks.”

her eyes follow atsumu to the boy he’s handing the plastic package to and her mouth goes dry. he’s nothing like the image she had in her head. what did she even imagine him looking like? surely not this pretty.

shit, he was really pretty. 

the collar of his red jacket hides the edges of his face, but when he turns towards her, she sees his entire face and instinctively shuffles back towards sakusa under the weight of his stare.

“suna! this is y/n. y/n, this is suna,” atsumu follows up, for once (in the few hours that she’s known him) seeming to read the social situation.

“nice to meet you,” she says, not moving a muscle because he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to do handshakes.

“yeah,” he replies, holding her gaze for a moment longer than she expects him to, “you too.” then he turns around and walks back the way he must’ve first come from.

she wants to bury her face in her hands and overthink everything she’s ever done, his yellow-gray eyes still prominent in her memory. osamu’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts, “well, that’s suna.” he states the obvious and no one replies. “anyway, what did you want from the vending machine, y/n?”

“you’re paying for her over my dead body,” she looks up to see atsumu shouldering osamu away from the front of the machine.

“oh yeah like it’s gonna be hard to kill you–”

“you’re both making a fool of yourselves,” sakusa cuts them off and they both immediately straighten at sakusa’s grim tone. 

“you guys don’t have to buy me anything, really,” she tries to add before all three boys look at her and she shuts up.

“no, they won’t let you go until you let them pay for something,” sakusa sighs, and she feels drained. she hasn’t even picked up a single piece of equipment or put her bag down, yet all she wishes she could do is go home and fall asleep, pretending atsumu and osamu were just figments of her imagination. 

but this was reality, and she continued to see atsumu and osamu quite frequently after their first appearance. sometimes they’d show up after school, or visit during school breaks. other times, she saw them during their frequent matches with itachiyama, and she couldn’t help but suspect they were manipulating their coach; there was no way the amount of games between itachiyama and inarizaki was just a coincidence. but their matches were also where she saw suna the most. she had never been able to warm up to him the way she had with atsumu and osamu, but then again, the twins had basically forced themselves into her life. nonetheless, she still talked to him sometimes, and he became part of the reason for the small habit she had formed.

atsumu and osamu complained the most about being starved after games, and she had never realized how draining volleyball must be until she started taking pictures of it up close. it made sense, seeing how attentive everyone had to be 100% of the time, and they were always jumping or running. she saw how it wore even omi (a nickname she had stolen from the twins) and suna down, despite how much they tried to remain their neutral faces.

as a result, she had decided that maybe it was a good time to flex her cooking skills, and to give herself peace of mind that none of them would pass out on their way home. she often made sure to bring food for omi and his cousin komori, but she always made extra when they had a game with inarizaki.

and none of them complained, it was second nature for osamu to come stumbling towards her after every game, looking like a sweating mess unable to even keep his eyes open as he asked her for food. she’d force him to patiently wait a few more minutes as she took shots of the teams packing up which also gave atsumu and suna time to come over as well.

she had told herself she was making food for all of them, but in reality, she knew it was for suna most of all. she was too scared to talk to him as often as she did the rest of the boys, yet she still found herself pulled to him. food had instead been the mutual connector between them. it was something they exchanged without many words, but she reasoned that it was a good thing that they weren’t very close. as much as she tried to play it off, she couldn’t keep her camera off of him. she knew she was supposed to be taking pictures of itachiyama–and she did make sure to take good shots of them–but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t find herself always turning towards the other side of the court every chance she got, following one middle blocker in particular. 

it was always embarrassing to think about, and she tried to push the thoughts away as she rustled through her bag for her container. 

she almost felt like a mother, really. she'd taken in three insatiable foxes plus whatever omi could be considered as–something more passive than his sly opponents. she'd fed them all once and now they'd become attached to her for life. they definitely played the part, looking restless and grumpy while she tried to do her job. eventually, she'd give up trying to take any more pictures and rustle through her bag, finding the rice balls she'd prepared earlier that morning for them. they weren't sufficient as a meal, but something she deemed good enough to last them until they got home.

"y/n, I could kiss you," osamu would confess as he stole the first ball and she'd laugh, seeing atsumu nod eagerly in agreement and the look suna threw their way. neither of the twins ever noticed, too invested in their food to care about anything else.

"back off, she's not yours." omi came to stand beside her, nodding in thanks when she offered the food to him.

"oh whatever," osamu shrugged, "i'll open a restaurant and hire her, then you won't be able to say anything."

"y/n made food for us all, omi-omi. you're just jealous you lost~" she’d grown accustomed to how much trouble atsumu got himself into, seeming to never learn from the beatings omi would give him. she watched the two fight before suna approached her, making her freeze up.

"do you have any food left?" he asked.

sometimes it took her a moment to respond, too caught up in admiring his eyes before she forced herself to respond, "oh, yes. I have a few more. take as many as you want," she held out the box, laughing when osamu snuck in next to her to steal another ball as well. she sent up a silent apology to komori; she had technically made enough to feed him too, but if suna wanted a rice ball meant for him, she was definitely giving it to him.

she was glad he liked her cooking, it was always a worry in the back of her head if he would like what she made. osamu and atsumu would eat anything, and she knew what omi liked. he was the only one she wasn't sure about. whenever he seemed to like something she brought, she made sure to write the recipe down so that she could make it again. she may not have been able to talk to her with words, but if she could show that she cared about him with actions, she was going to make the most of it.

that was how their time through high school had gone, all the way up until graduation. when suna had decided it was time for that to change.

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extras <3

just a little bit of backstory between the friendships of most of the characters! i thought it'd be cute <3 hopefully this wasn't too long and this chapter was pieced together over a few weeks so i hope it flows alright

doing something a little different with song reccs this smau!! i don't think it's very clear although i tried to make it easy to understand, these are basically lyrics that suna left written on a wall in different locations <3 they range in how specific they are and nothing's really important about them! i just thought it was cute to include <3

y/n was put in charge of taking photos for the boy's volleyball team since the yearbook program was stretched thin

inarizaki’s coach, seeing how she took a lot of photos of inarizaki too (bc of suna but he doesn’t need to know that), asked her to send the photos to him

she was so intimidated she made sure she edited them and then sent them his way. he was impressed with her work and asked her to take pictures for inarizaki’s team too whenever she had the time ofc

which also meant she was always cooking to bring something for suna & co. <3

when she got into college, she was offered a job as a photographer for a sports magazine but she declined because she realized it was just not the kind of photography she wanted to do for the rest of her life

this is important for next chapter 😭 but suna is on y/n's private!! most of her friends are, because it's where she posts everything since her main account is dedicated to photography. so that also includes atsumu and osamu ofc

they're all also second years in college in present time

NEXT CHAPTER HAS NO WRITTEN PARTS I SWEAR AND PROMISE ON MY LIFE I'M SO EXCITED FOR IT I JUST NEEDED A CHAPTER TO WARM UP TO THIS SMAU

taglist: @0moonii @iluvmang @bluebeanbee @wyrcan @oyasumeii @froyaoya @gyuijns @nbcvs @milkteade @eggyrocks @guitarstringed-scars @makkir0ll @mylahrins @cherrypieyourface @vivian-555 @sharkerino @r0seandth0rns @staileykout @lunavixia @thvvluvr @elliott0o0 @wolffmaiden @rockleeisbaeeee @toges-cough-syrup @cnnmairoll @ryeyeyer @hibernatinghamster @localgaytrainwreck @lemonocity @bows4life @sereniteav @madiexuberant @eclecticeggknightpsychic @phoenix-eclipses @sonicsolos @httpakkeiji @brkfclub @snail-squasher @starry-magicshop @cr4yolaas @kitnootkat @zzzlevislothzzz @iluv-ace @iluvaquaphor @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @applepi25 @twiishaa @girlkissersco @sleepystrwbrryy @encrypta

[harrywavycurly]

Worth the Fight Part 2: City of Love

Masterlist: Here

CW: Mentions of pregnancy, language, bit of light arguing, brief details of the hook up in the bathroom, miscommunication and a touch of panic attack symptoms mentioned.

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden

A/N: I know it’s not Thursday but I just wanted to get this up because this week is a busy one for me! Hope yall enjoy it!!✨

Summary: Harry gets the confirmation he needs but wasn’t really expecting while you try to be as nice as possible to him, oh and Harry meets your cat! So enjoy getting a little look at the way your personalities work/clash together✨

“So uh-you’re actually pregnant.” Harry says with a heavy sigh as he watches you dig around in your purse for your car keys. You pause your search so you can look up at him just in time to see him run a hand over his face. “I just really thought maybe your tests were wrong? Like maybe you got a bad batch or something and-”

“A bad batch? Harry I took four different kinds of tests.”

“Well yeah but still I just don’t know how this happened?”

“Did your parents not have the talk with you about how babies are made? Surely you know how this happened.” Harry ignores your snippy remark as you resume your search for your keys as he presses the down button for the elevator.

The two of you just got done visiting with your doctor who confirmed you are in fact pregnant and suggested a well known obstetrician and gynecologist, Dr. Andrews that could take over and do the paternity test once you call and set up an initial appointment with his office and see exactly how far along you are. You weren’t shocked by the news, but Harry on the other hand sat there with his mouth hung open as if he didn’t expect it at all and you aren’t sure why considering you told him how many tests you took and how they all said pregnant in different ways. You know he had to be reminded of how the two of you met, seeing as he meets so many people and all but you just assumed that once he had his moment of clarity and remembered meeting you that the memory of the rest of the evening would also begin to not be as fuzzy for him but he’s proving that theory very wrong with every confused glance and silly question he tosses your way.

“I thought we were careful?” He questions once the elevator doors open up allowing the two of you to step inside, you let out a chuckle as he moves to stand next to you crossing his arms over his chest while he shoots you a glare. “Are you giggling? What’s so funny about this?” You just shake your head as you finally feel your keys on the bottom of your purse.

“Oh you-you’re being serious?” You ask as you look over at him with a raised brow making him nod his head in response. “I wasn’t aware that the pull out method was really even considered a form of being careful?” Harry’s eyes go wide as his arms fall to his sides and that’s how you figure out he really is struggling to put the pieces together of what exactly happened in that bathroom so you decide to give him just one more detail to help him understand how the two of you really ended up in this situation.

“And by the way in order for that method to work you actually have to pull out.” You add casually as you reach over and press the button for the lobby while Harry’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink as he looks down at the floor in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

“So are you going to want to be at all the appointments?” You ask a few minutes later as the two of you enter the lobby of the medical building your doctor’s office is in. Harry looks around and brings a hand up to rub at the back of his neck while you adjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder as you wait for him to answer.

“I don’t know? I just-this is a lot.” He finally replies a few moments later making you purse your lips and slowly nod your head before you turn and head for the front entrance of the building. Harry doesn’t know what to do but he knows the two of you have things to discuss so he just quickly rushes to catch up to you and when he finds you heading for a small beat up looking car that’s parked in a very obvious no parking zone his eyebrows pinch together while his hand reaches out to grab your elbow causing you to stop walking and look at him over your shoulder.

“Look I’ll tell you how my next appointment goes and when they can do the paternity test-”

“Is this your car?” Harry asks interrupting your little rant, you watch his eyes go from your face to the car directly behind you.

“Yes. She’s very reliable even though she looks a bit rough.” You say in your car’s defense as you take a step away from him making his hand fall from its hold on your elbow as he stares at you in almost disbelief as you take your car key and unlock the passenger side door and toss your purse inside before closing it so you can turn and face Harry with your arms loosely crossed over your chest.

“This can’t be safe for you to be driving around in.” You roll your eyes at his statement as he takes a step to the side so he can give your car a proper once over and when he sees a dent on the front bumper he raises an eyebrow while pointing at it. “You run into things a lot?” He asks as he looks over at you from where he’s now stood near the front of your car.

“Leave Melanie alone okay she’s nice and gets me where I need to go.” You snap at him as you turn and place a hand on top of your car so you can give it a little pat. “I’ve had her since I was seventeen so yeah she’s got a few bumps-”

“Melanie? You named your car? Have you really had this thing since you were seventeen?”

“Yes Melanie just fits her and yeah Harry I’ve had this thing since I was seventeen because most people keep their cars for a while since we can’t all have a driver to take us places or have a fancy collection of cars we don’t use.” Harry doesn’t say anything in response so after a few moments of silence you take that as a sign the conversation is over so you just turn to round the front of the car and get into the driver’s seat.

“You’re in a no parking zone you know that right?” Harry says breaking the silence just as you open your door, you look at the sign that’s posted on the sidewalk right above where you’re parked and just shrug making Harry let out a huff as he rolls his eyes.

“I was in a hurry.”

“You mean you were running late?”

“No I mean I was in a hurry.”

“Are you late to a lot of things? Is that something I should get used to?”

“I don’t know Harry do you want to get used to me?”

“What? That’s not-not what I meant I just want to know if you’re late a lot?”

“I wasn’t late today was I?”

“No but clearly you were worried about it since you were rushing enough to just park in a no parking zone-what if your car would’ve gotten towed? What would you have done?” While he’s speaking you take the time to look him over and that’s when you notice it, his hands are clenching and unclenching fists by his sides and his cheeks are slightly flushed and his eyes are a bit wide, he looks like he’s on the verge of a panic attack of some sort and him asking you these pointless questions is his attempt at holding it off.

You ignore his eyes that dart to various parts of your face and upper half of your body as if his mind can’t decide where it wants to focus as you close the driver’s side door with a bit of force making sure it stays closed and round the front of your car so you’re standing in front of him. You wonder for a moment as you stare at him if it’s your hormones already kicking in that makes you feel the need to make him feel better or if it’s just Harry who has this extremely annoying power to drive you to the brink of wanting to smack him a few time with your purse and leave him standing on the sidewalk alone and confused to all of a sudden switching it up to were you’re wanting to make sure he’s okay when he shows you any signs of distress. He watches your hands as they reach out and grab his and when you fill the gaps between his fingers with your own and give his hands a nice solid squeeze you watch his chest fall as he lets out a deep breath and his shoulders slump a bit. You look him in his eyes and give him a small smile while still giving his hands little reassuring squeezes.

“Would you like to come over? Have some tea?” Your question not only shocks Harry but you as well, not sure what came over you to even let the words slip out of your mouth, surely it’s just the hormones. Harry chews on his bottom lip for a moment before he looks down at his watch on his right wrist, checking the time before he looks back up at you.

“Uh sure yeah-yeah I can come over for a bit.” He answers with a nod. You just let go of his hands and reach over for the passenger side door handle so you can open it for him. Harry quickly looks at you with worried eyes and begins shaking his head and backing away from you while trying to reach into the front pocket of his jeans for his phone.

“Oh no I’ll just call my-”

“Harry.” You say with a sigh as you continue to hold the door open for him, he stops fumbling for his phone and stares at you making you roll your eyes as you gesture to the passenger seat with a tilt of your head.

“Just get in the car.” With that Harry just lets out a groan as he reluctantly takes a step towards the open door and bends down so he can pick up your purse off the seat. You bite back a laugh as you watch him have to duck down a bit to get into your car and he makes a show of buckling himself in nice and tightly once he’s sat in the seat. You give him a smile as he places your purse in his lap just as you close the door for him so you can go and get into the driver’s seat and take the two of you to your apartment.

“Do you have a cat?” You look at Harry over your shoulder from where you’re making yourself a cup of herbal tea in the kitchen and smile when you see him messing with a random stuffed mouse that somehow ended up on your table.

As if on queue Harry looks down as he feels something rub against his shin and you see a small smile tug at the corners of his lips when he sees your orange cat greeting him with a few purrs but it’s when you see him rub his head against Harry’s ankles that you feel obligated to warn him about something.

“Oh but watch out he might-” your words get cut off by a tiny squeal from Harry as he takes a step towards you with his eyes set in a glare aimed at the orange cat that’s decided to now head into the living room since Harry didn’t allow him to fully chomp down on his ankle like he wanted.

“He just bit me.” Harry states as he watches your cat jump onto your sofa and quickly flop down into a comfortable laying position. “He bit my ankle.” He explains while turning to now give you his full attention making you just shrug as you reach for the honey to add to your mug.

“Yeah well his name is Paris so he kinda has a thing for ankles.” Harry stares at the side of your face as you go about making your tea while explaining why your cat just bit his ankle and he rolls his eyes at how casual you are about it, but that’s something Harry is learning about you, you don’t seem to take a lot of things that seriously.

“What’s the city of love have to do with ankles?” He asks as you give the liquid in your mug a nice stir, he watches the way his question makes your brows pinch together and when you turn to look at him he sees your face looks almost concerned and he can’t imagine why considering the two of you are just talking about your cat.

“He’s named after Paris as in the one who killed Achilles.” When Harry just raises an eyebrow in response to your explanation you let out a long sigh as you pick up your mug. “Have you heard of Troy?”

“The Brad Pitt movie?” You have to fight off the urge to reach over and flick him in the ear at his answer but you just shake your head and walk past him and into your living room.

“No not the Brad Pitt movie I mean the actual story of Troy? With Achilles and Hector? The Trojan horse and all that?” Harry follows you into the living room and makes a mindful choice not to sit on the couch with the orange cat that just tried to make a meal out of his ankle, opting for the loveseat that’s placed across from the couch with a little coffee table in between the two pieces of furniture.

“Hector and the little horse thing are in the Brad Pitt movie though.” Harry explains as you get comfortable on the couch making Paris lift his head and look around to see who has come into the room and disturbed his peace.

“Little horse thing? Are you-you know what it’s not important.” You take a sip of your tea to help calm yourself down before placing it on the coffee table, Harry takes the opportunity to glance down and he quirks an eyebrow when he sees the name of the tea on the little tag hanging out of the mug.

“Paris shot Achilles in the ankle so that’s why I named him Paris…because he attacks the ankles of people he doesn’t like.” You smile as the orange cat stretches out next to you placing a paw on your thigh while Harry just lets out a scoff at the idea of your cat not liking him.

“You drink peppermint tea with honey? That’s criminal. And also there’s no way he doesn’t like me considering he just met me.” You laugh as you reach over and run your hand over Paris’s back making him purr while still keeping his eyes closed.

“Oh and it’s so hard to imagine someone not liking you after just meeting you?”

“Well yeah because he doesn’t know me so how can he not like me?”

“He knows enough to want to bite your ankle the first chance he got.”

“That’s because you’ve probably poisoned him against me.” You laugh and roll your eyes as Harry leans over and grabs your mug of tea off the table and brings it to his lips so he can taste it. “And that’s disgusting by the way.” He states with a face of disgust making you glare at him as you lean over and grab the mug from his hand before he can set it back down on the table.

“And I remember you being taller.” You mumble while Harry just glares at you from his spot on the loveseat. “What? You insulted my tea so I’m allowed to insult your-”

“I can’t really do anything about my height but you can and absolutely should fix the way you make tea because no one should be mixing honey with peppermint.” He argues as he watches you with a narrowed glare as you take a sip of your tea, you watch as he leans forward and rests his forearms on his knees and clasps his hands together.

“Is this how you always act when someone invites you into their home as a way of calming you down when you’re on the verge of a panic attack? You just insult them and-”

“I wasn’t having a panic attack.”

“You were maybe two minutes away from one and please stop interrupting me it’s so rude and isn’t your whole thing about treating people with-”

“How are you not panicking? You’re having a baby possibly my baby and you’re just sat there with your nasty tea and-”

“That’s it.” You say with a huff and Harry flinches slightly as you all but slam your mug down onto the table before standing up causing Paris to jolt awake at your sudden outburst. “You’ve insulted my car and my tea today and I was going to let it slide because that’s fine we can have differences in opinions on tea and cars but that’s on top of the fact you don’t even remember what happened between us that night and you think the story of Troy is just a Brad Pitt movie and I just-I think you should leave now.” Harry blinks up at you as your hands fall to your sides in what he almost thinks is a sign of defeat, as if you lost the internal battle you were having with yourself on trying to keep your cool with him and that makes his mouth droop a bit into a small frown.

“I remember plenty about what happened that night.” He counters as he slowly stands up while you grab your mug and turn towards the kitchen. Harry reaches for his phone in his front pocket so he can text his driver your address and a message to please come get him as soon as possible.

“If that were true then today wouldn’t have been such a shock for you.” You explain before you disappear from Harry’s sight, he can’t really put a finger on the exact feeling that comes over him as he stands there in your living room knowing that everything you said is true. He doesn’t remember exactly what went on between the two of you, at least not very clearly.

He knows that the two of you had an intimate moment in the bathroom because the evidence was shown to him this afternoon when the doctor handed him a piece of paper that told him you are truly pregnant and this is all really happening. Since then he hasn’t been able to think straight or focus on much of anything and if he’s being honest he really isn’t good in stressful situations in general, he tends to either overreact or just panic and this by far is one of the most stressful situations he’s ever found himself in and he knows he isn’t handling himself the way he should be. And your calm and relaxed demeanor just seems to make him even more unnerved because he doesn’t get how you’re not in the same panic riddled boat as him.

Harry runs a hand through his hair, giving a tug at his roots as he glances down to your couch, he catches Paris do a lengthy stretch before he sits up briefly just to look at Harry and decide that even he is fed up with him so he jumps off the couch and walks off into the kitchen. Now in that moment Harry knows he should do that as well, follow your cat’s lead and walk into your cramped kitchen so he can at least attempt to apologize for a few things but he doesn’t. Instead he just runs a knuckle under his nose as he sniffles a bit and when he feels his phone vibrate and sees a text letting him know his driver is on his way he lets out a heavy sigh. He takes one last look at your kitchen entryway, hoping that maybe you’ll come back and sit down on the couch and he thinks that he wouldn’t even mind if you didn’t say anything but just sat there not looking at him so that way he would at least be able to tell you goodbye and prove to you that he’s capable of being polite but the sound of the sink being turned on quickly wash away any traces of hope he might’ve had.

“This is so fucked.” He mumbles to himself as he walks towards your front door, he knows better than to leave the two of you like this, with certain things needing to be spoken and unkind words being the last ones said but he doesn’t have much of a choice since you won’t come out of the kitchen. So Harry opens your front door and walks out into the hallway making sure to close it as quietly as possible deciding that maybe this is for the best and at least he’s giving you exactly what you asked for, him leaving.

You watch the last bits of your tea go down the drain as the sound of your front door opening and then closing hits your ears, you take a few steps back from the sink so you can poke your head out into the living room and when you see it’s empty you just let out a sigh and go back to cleaning your mug. You didn’t want to end your afternoon like this, standing alone in your kitchen because your patience was worn too thin for the man who somehow managed to charm you into agreeing to a quickie in a bar bathroom over a month ago.

You almost don’t even know how that man and the one who was sat in your living room not even five minutes ago are the same person. The Harry you met at the bar was fun and flirty and even though he teased you throughout the night it was never with any real intention to hurt your feelings while this Harry can’t help but take every chance he can get to insult you or toss a jab your way about something. You don’t know why the corners of your mouth turn downwards at the idea of the night you two met never really meaning anything to him aside from being the night he got you pregnant. You don’t get to think about it for too much longer as Paris jumps onto the counter and makes his way over to sit next to the sink momentarily taking your mind off the curly haired boy.

“We can do this right? We’ll be fine won’t we?” You ask him while he sits there looking at you with his big green yellow-ish eyes that all of a sudden remind you a bit too much of the man who just left your apartment without even saying goodbye. “Next time bite him a bit harder okay?”