#(well. will be freaking out shortly) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jezebelblues · 4 months ago

Text

𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 | 𝐇.𝐒 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬—𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢’𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞.

𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭, 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲.

𝐂𝐖: smut18+ fingering, penetration (p in v), a smidge of spanking, mommy issues, 2016!harry, angst, i guess. all in upper case if that gets u goin. fem!reader, unedited cause i fell asleep writing this. gn. mwah :*

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: approx 17k

❏ burning hill by mitski teehee !! was the main inspo for this

not my gif. if u have the info of the original creator, lmk so i can appropriately credit them.

masterlist

It’s been fifteen months since the group announced their hiatus.

Phone calls became scarce, and so many words were left unspoken, drifting into that space where they might never find their way back. For the first time in years, he felt free—untethered from the rhythm of living intertwined with three other lives. At first, the quiet felt unbearable, like the silence after the crowd fades and the lights go down. But slowly, the loneliness began to feel like home. A strange sort of comfort in the quiet. He found a semblance of privacy—at least a bit more than he had in the band.

Harry felt that, since the hiatus, the fans had grown older with him, their wide-eyed fascination dulled by time and reality. There were fewer frantic moments, fewer desperate hands pulling at him. Now, on a good day, he could stroll through his hometown, maybe get stopped for a polite photo. Occasionally, there were still shadows trailing him—paparazzi or a fan trying to be invisible but failing, always just out of reach. He didn’t like it, not really, but he’d learned to live with it. It’s what came with the territory, a price he thought he’d long accepted.

But it was the writing that kept him grounded. Kept him real. The one thing that still felt like his own. His debut album was close to finished now, though the mixing, the rewrites, the constant tweaking—it never felt like enough. There was this tightness inside him, a knot of anxiety that refused to unravel. Would anyone like Harry styles, the solo artist? Or would they always only care about Harry, the boy in the band?

He wasn’t ungrateful, not for a second. But deep down, he craved something more. He needed the space to finally figure out what he wanted, to break free, to become something else entirely. Something new.

It’s been eight months since he met YN.

It was happenstance, through his manager—though sometimes Harry liked to imagine it was fate. It was one of those coincidences that felt too deliberate to be real, like something out of a half-finished song. She was Jeff’s goddaughter, on the periphery of his world, but until then, she’d been just another name mentioned in passing.

YN started her internship at the recording studio in the beginning of April of this year. She moved to New York with a close friend shortly after her twenty first birthday, saving up for what felt like forever, and Jeffery instantly had the idea of corroborating with the studio about an internship. He knew of her uncertainty about the future. He knew about the interest in music YN had, and he wanted to give her a chance.

Jeff had told her it was a paid internship, though it really wasn’t. He was the one who was paying her through check, under the guise of the studio. She would freak if she found out, turning it all down—Jeff knew that all too well.

Her first month was moreso about passing time. She’d work on any logistics, learning about the soundboard and how it worked hand in hand with the recording aspect, not to mention the process of remastering, mixing, finalizing. Harry was in and out those first three weeks, still finishing up a few interviews and whatnot. YN talked to him a few times when he’d pop in before taking off again, he was sweet. Still, she needed something to do until he was finally able to settle down to focus on one of the last stretches of the album—and giving her busywork was just that.

She wasn’t supposed to be at the office that day in May, but Jeff made her come along before they would continue their constant work at the drawing table, in the booth. It was the day he decided to cut his hair—and there she was, sitting quietly on the edge of the room, trying not to be seen, caught up in the swirl of conversations she didn’t quite belong to yet. There was something about her, something he couldn’t put his finger on. The way she observed everything, but didn’t feel the need to make herself known. A quiet confidence, maybe, or just a complete lack of pretense.

When she offered to help with the cut, everyone laughed, but he said yes. He didn’t know why, maybe because she didn’t treat it like this big, defining moment. The whole world was making such a fuss about his hair, like that was all he was, all he’d ever be. But YN? She just smiled, grabbed the scissors, and got to work. No ceremony, no theatrics—just a few careful snips, and suddenly he was lighter, like he could breathe again.

Afterward, they’d joked about how she should switch careers. But she’d only smiled that same quiet smile and said she was more interested in being on the other side of music. She was learning everything she could. At first, she was just there, hovering at the edge of things. But before long, she was everywhere. Quietly slipping into conversations, offering up ideas that stuck with him long after she’d left the room.

She wasn’t like the people he usually worked with. She wasn’t starry-eyed, wasn’t afraid of him or the idea of him. YN spoke to the brunette like he was just a guy making music, figuring things out. And maybe that’s what drew him in, slowly at first, then all at once. She didn’t see Harry Styles, the soloist. She saw Harry—the restless, uncertain man who wasn’t sure if he was running from his past or trying to carve out a future. He was human, an equal, not an enigma.

He caught himself thinking about her more than he should, replaying their conversations in his head when he was alone in his flat, the silence pressing in around him. She had this way of getting under his skin without even trying, making him wonder if he’d been doing everything wrong up until now. Or maybe, just maybe, she was the first person to make him feel like he didn’t need to have all the answers.

There was something magnetic about her, a pull he couldn’t quite shake. He’d see her in the studio, headphones on, scribbling notes on a track they’d been working on, her brow furrowed in concentration. She cared about the music, really cared, and he respected that more than he could say. In the rare moments she’d look up and catch him watching, she’d smile—soft and unassuming, as if she wasn’t at the center of this storm he was slowly getting lost in.

He’d thought about it, late at night when the studio was empty, and all he had were his thoughts. He wasn’t sure if it was the music that kept him coming back, or if it was something else entirely.

But the truth was, ever since she walked into his life, the world didn’t feel as heavy. It didn’t feel so lonely anymore.

YN had a quiet way of carrying herself, something light and untouchable, like she’d mastered the art of being present without ever fully giving herself away. It was part of what made her so magnetic, Harry thought, but it also kept her at arm’s length—just out of reach. The more time he spent with her, the more he sensed there were pieces of her story she wasn’t ready to share, things she held onto with a grip so tight, it almost hurt to watch.

Her father had been older when she was born, older than Jeff was, at least—a man who had already been through his share of mistakes and regrets by the time he met Jeffery in college. YN’s dad had been trying to start over, to build something solid for himself after years of wandering. They clicked right away—two guys who didn’t have much in common on the surface, but who understood each other in the ways that mattered. Jeff was young, still wide-eyed and ambitious, while YN’s father had lived a little longer, seen more of the mess the world had to offer. They bonded over that, and when YN was born, Jeff had been right there, practically family.

YN’s mother had left when she was just a baby. No warning, no messy custody battle, just gone. Her dad was the moon, always there—faintly during the day when he worked, but always present by night. Her mother was a solar eclipse, popping up in certain areas every now and then, but never staying. Maybe she’d call and wish her a belated happy birthday, or send a card for Christmas that year. She was always fleeting. And YN thought herself the stars, always there, always ever connected to the two despite time and space.

So, her father had raised her on his own, doing his best with what little he had. Jeff had been named godfather not long after her birth, and though he didn’t say much about it, YN knew he’d always carried a quiet kind of guilt. Like maybe if he’d been around more, her life might’ve been different. She never blamed him, of course—she adored Jeff, looked at him like he was some kind of anchor in her life, a second father figure, someone she could always count on. But there was no denying that a part of her had been shaped by absence, by the cold reality of her mother’s abandonment.

She didn’t talk about her mother much. When they’d first started getting to know each other, Harry had asked her once—offhandedly, without thinking—and the way her expression shifted, the way her walls shot up so quickly, he knew not to push. He’d seen it before, in himself, the instinct to hide away when the past felt too close.

Harry didn’t know much about her. They hadn’t talked about personal things, not really. Her past wasn’t something she talked about, not with anyone, and especially not with people like Harry—people who had the world’s attention, people who might think she was just another girl with a tragic backstory. But he knew she was Jeff’s goddaughter, that she was interning at the studio, trying to figure out if music was the career she wanted. He knew her favorite artist and color, knew her favorite subject in school and her best friend’s name—Marisol. He knew she preferred sunsets over sunrises, mountains and forests over beaches. But it felt superficial, barely scraping the surface. He wanted to know more. She seemed talented, driven, but there was something else—something in the way she held herself back.

There were moments when he’d catch her smile, but it was always soft, fleeting. Like she was offering a glimpse of something deeper but never letting him get too close. It intrigued him, the way she could be so kind yet so guarded, as if she’d learned not to give too much away. It was a look he recognized, one he saw in himself sometimes, when the weight of expectations and the uncertainty of his solo career pressed too heavily on his shoulders. But with YN, it felt different. It felt like something that had been there long before she ever stepped into the studio.

Moving to New York had been her way of starting over. She’d wanted to escape the weight of her past, to carve out a life that was her own. Jeff had given her that opportunity, and even though she hadn’t been sure it was what she wanted at first, she found herself falling into the rhythm of it. The work was hard sometimes, but it felt good, like maybe she was finally building something of her own. But even here, in this new city with new faces, YN still felt that familiar pull—the instinct to keep her distance, to protect herself from getting too attached.

He wasn’t sure she’d let him in, anyway. YN was like that—careful, cautious. Maybe she always would be.

In June, a little over two months since YN started working in the studio, she and Harry had formed an easy, steadying friendship. YN wasn’t like most people in his world. She understood his music in a way that felt rare—intimately, deeply, as if she could feel the weight of each word before he even sang it. It touched him more than he could admit.

But as much as he was drawn to her, Harry could sense the distance she kept between them. It wasn’t obvious, not in a way anyone else would notice, but there was a part of YN that stayed hidden. She had a warmth to her—she was kind, smart, and always knew exactly what to say when he asked for her help. But when it came to the deeper parts of herself, the parts Harry desperately wanted to know, she stayed locked away. He saw it in the way she smiled when something hit too close to home, or the way she never let conversations stray too far from the task at hand. It was as though she’d built an invisible wall around herself, and no one—not even him—was allowed through.

But he knew better than to push. For now, their connection revolved around the music.

Sometime in early June, they were hunched over in their usual studio chairs, working on the final track of his debut album. The song had taken weeks to perfect, but they were close now—closer than they had been. From the Dining Table was raw, achingly personal and YN, somehow, had helped him shape it into something even more honest than it had started.

“What if you lean into the third verse more?” She suggested, her pen tapping the page thoughtfully. "The emotion's there, but it's like you're not letting yourself feel it fully. Especially in that second verse–maybe one day you’ll me, and tell me that you’re sorry, too. You're pulling back right when you should lean into it."

Harry stopped playing with the strings on his guitar and looked up at her, brow furrowed. "What do y’mean?"

She hummed, biting her lip as she considered the words, her fingers brushing the edge of the paper. “Maybe drop the keys lower in the last chorus..” She trailed off, lost in her own thought process. She shifted in her chair, leaning forward slightly as she studied the lyrics. "It's heavy, but it could be even more vulnerable. You're singing about something really personal here, about the kind of loneliness that feels like it's eating you alive. But in the melody, it feels..safe. I think you need to make the vocals feel a bit more broken, like you're barely holding it together. Let the silence in the song do some of the work. Think about pulling back on the production, too–keep it more stripped down.” She laughed lightly, a bit sheepish. “If that makes sense.”

Harry nodded slowly, the words hanging in the air between them. She got it. She always got it. The lyrics had been twisting inside him for weeks, and it was YN’s careful guidance that had finally helped him pull them into something real, something tangible. He picked up his guitar, adjusting the chords she mentioned, and played the verse again. The notes hung heavier in the air this time, more space, more quiet.

“There.” YN murmured. “That’s what it needed—the space between the words, the silence. That's where the emotion is."

For the next few hours, they went back and forth, fine-tuning the melody and adjusting the lyrics. YN suggested cutting down the instrumentation, making it feel more intimate, like a conversation Harry was having with himself. And as the song started to take shape, Harry felt a weight lifting. It’s what he wanted for the song, it deserved this rawness, this vulnerability.

Over the next two weeks, they worked tirelessly on the track, tweaking the lyrics, adjusting the production. YN had suggested subtle changes in the arrangement—adding faint background harmonies, letting the piano take the lead in certain sections. It was her idea to introduce a low hum in the final chorus, something atmospheric that made the song feel like it was dissolving into the empty spaces of the room. Harry trusted her instincts completely by now, her intelligence and understanding of the music so sharp that he barely needed to question her advice. She had a way of knowing what the song needed, even when he couldn’t see it himself.

By the time they reached the last day of recording that track, the song had transformed into something that felt like a piece of his soul, laid bare for the world to hear. It was time to play it for the team, to record the final version that would make it onto the album. She didn’t hear it in its entirety yet, only the parts Harry would reveal that he wanted insight on.

The band was ready, gathered behind their instruments, and the rest of the team sat in the control room, waiting to hear what he had spent weeks perfecting. The studio felt heavier than usual, the air thick with anticipation. Harry glanced over at YN, who was standing by the glass that separated the studio from the control room, her arms crossed loosely in front of her. She was watching him, as she always did, but there was something different in her eyes tonight. He couldn’t place it—something softer, more vulnerable than usual.

Harry picked up his guitar, gave the band a nod, and stepped up to the mic. The first notes echoed through the room, soft and haunting. His voice followed, low and steady, each lyric pouring out an isolation he had written into the song, each verse dripping in melancholy. The room around him seemed to blur, and for a moment, it was just him, the music, and the truth of what he was singing.

“Maybe one day you’ll call me, and tell me that you’re sorry, too.”

His voice cracked slightly on the word sorry, just as it had in practice. But this time, it felt different. More real. More final.

As the song continued, Harry’s gaze flickered over to YN. She was still standing by the glass, but something had changed. Her arms had fallen to her sides, and her eyes were fixed on him, wide and shimmering with unshed tears. It was subtle at first—a quick blink, a shift of her expression—but then he saw it. A tear slipped down her cheek, and YN quickly brushed it away, trying to hide the emotion that was overtaking her.

But she couldn’t. Not this time.

By the time the song ended, the room was filled with the soft, fading echoes of the final notes. Harry stood still, the guitar resting against his chest, his breath uneven. He watched as YN slowly stepped forward, closer to the glass, her eyes still glistening. She rested her hand gently on the pane, the only thing separating them, and gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod.

It was all he needed. That nod, that single moment of unspoken approval, meant more than words ever could. She understood—she always had. But seeing her moved by the song, seeing the tears she tried so hard to hide, told Harry more about her than she’d ever let on.

For the first time, Harry felt like he had reached her core, even if just for a second. And as the team buzzed with quiet admiration for the track, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from YN. Because in that small, fragile moment, she had let her walls down. Just enough.

And Harry realized, standing there with the music still humming through his veins, that maybe he wasn’t the only one who felt something more between them. Maybe YN wasn’t as unreachable as he had once thought.

July had seemed to’ve breeze past, almost gone in a daze. It was Friday, and there would only be two more Fridays left till they would have to flip the colander pages to August. The heat of the day still mingled in the air as the studio settled into its usual weekend quiet. The crew had all left for the night, tired but satisfied after wrapping another long day of recording. The album was nearing completion, and the tension that had built up over the past few months was finally starting to lift. Harry could feel it—the sense of relief, of something monumental coming to an end—but there was still so much hanging in the air between him and YN, at least that’s what he felt.

They were alone in the lounge now, the soft glow of the low lights casting faded shadows on the walls. YN sat on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her as she sipped from a recently topped-off flute of champagne, her eyes tired but content. They had opened the bottle to celebrate finishing another track, Two Ghosts. YN wasn’t there when the production first started for this song, only there for the finalized remastering of it that finished today—and she had insisted he must celebrate, the fizzy sweetness a small reward for everything he’s been pouring into the album.

"Cheers!” Harry had laughed, clinking his glass against hers with a lopsided grin. "One more down."

He didn’t quite remember what glass he was on, but he could feel the familiar buzz of being tipsy, like he could float. Besides the lounge, the rest of the building was dark, only light seeping through was from the city outside. Harry leaned back against the arm of the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, the remnants of his drink swirling lazily in his glass. He felt relaxed—more relaxed than he had in weeks. Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe it was the fact that they were finally nearing the end of the album. But it wasn't just that. It was YN, too.

And god, she looked gorgeous.

She dressed down for the day, knowing it was Friday and she could fall into bed as soon as she got home. A hoodie hung loosely over her frame, the pair of lounge shorts coming a little bit above her mid thigh. The alcohol seemed to give her eyes more of a sparkle, her skin flush—Harry wondered if alcohol could make him look as pretty as she, but he ended up on the conclusion of probably not.

“I know I said this already.” She giggled, taking a sip of the bubbly. Her smile was hazy, eyes clouded over. “But the song sounds great.” She enthusiastically sent him a thumbs up, the bottom of his feet against the bend of her knees as his legs remained sprawled out over the couch. The curly haired boy already asked if he should move to give her more space, but her dismissal was a shouted, pleading whine of no, stay! “You should be famous or something.” She sent him a wink, and he couldn’t stifle the laughter that escaped him from how slow and exaggerated she’d done it.

The lightness in the air was contagious, and they both seemed to be floating, untethered and free from the usual tension. He rested his temple against the back cushion of the sofa, his lazy grin seemingly impossible to wipe off. “Dunno, sounds like a lot of work. Maybe I’ll jus’ start a bakery instead.” He shrugged, taking a swig of what was left in the flute after parting ways between his head and the cushion beside him. “Styles’ Pies, what d’you think?”

YN snorted, nearly spilling her champagne as she pictured it. “You? In a bakery? I don’t even think you can make toast without burning it.”

Harry’s eyes widened in mock offense. “Hey, m’great in the kitchen. You’ve just never seen me in action.”

“Oh really?” YN arched a brow, clearly unconvinced. She set her glass down on the table, waving her hand as if conducting an imaginary cooking show. “Alright, Chef Styles, what’s your signature dish? Burnt toast with a side of undercooked eggs?”

He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “I’m never gonna live that down, am I? That was one time!”

“Ah-ha!” She teased, biting her lip to hold back another laugh. “You know, they might not even let you into the bakery with that track record. Health code violations, and all.”

“Oh, come on!” Harry huffed, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll have you know, I’m actually a master at making..” He paused, narrowing his eyes in thought. “Pancakes.”

YN burst into laughter again, this time nearly doubling over, gently clasping her fingers around his ankles for support. “Pancakes? Oh god, I bet you’d flip them right onto the floor.”

“Oi, that’s not true!” Harry was laughing now too, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the easy back-and-forth. YN had placed her hands back into her lap after grabbing her glass again, legs still tucked underneath her. “I’ve got skills. Just wait. I’ll cook f’you one day, and you’ll be begging for more. You’ll never want to leave m’kitchen.”

She wiped away a tear from her drunken laughter, a banter that probably would not be as entertaining if she was sober. “We’ll see about that. I’ll be your taste tester—but don’t be mad if I spit it out.”

“Oh, y’ruthless tonight, huh?” He nudged her playfully with his foot, legs still draped along the sofa. “Well, if pancakes don’t win y’over, I’ll just serenade you with some of m’songs. You won’t stand a chance.”

YN’s laughter turned into a snort as she brought the flute to her lips, taking another sip before grinning at him. “Woo me with your guitar? Play a little ditty about burnt toast?”

Harry leaned forward, dramatically mimicking strumming an invisible guitar, his expression serious as he sang, “Maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two..”

YN feigned a cringe, holding her ands out in front of her as if to block the very sight of him. The tune was cute, but she would never admit that. Harry could barely keep it together as he leaned back against the sofa’s arm, rolling his eyes as she finally lowered her hands. “And I’ll have you know I worked n’a bakery in Holmes Chapel, favorite employee, too.”

“My god, aren’t you a prodigy?” She smiled, tilting her head to the side as if pretending to be bashful. “Singer, songwriter, baker of the month.”

“Y’damn right.”He tipped an imaginary hat on his head, “I contain multitudes.” He winked, a better one that YN had sent earlier, his grin wide and a little bit tipsy.

They sat in the comfortable silence that followed, both of them still chuckling under their breath, the champagne buzzing through their veins like a soft lullaby. Harry glanced over at YN, her face flushed from laughter, her body relaxed in a way he hadn’t seen before. She looked free. Happy. And it did something to his chest, a tug he couldn’t ignore.

“Hey.” he said softly, stretching his ankle ever so slightly to gently nudge her knee with his foot. “Y’having fun?”

She nodded, her smile softening as she glanced at him. “Yeah. I am.” Her voice was quieter now, the playful energy of a moment ago still lingering, but with something else creeping in. Something softer, more intimate.

Harry smiled back, his heart doing that stupid fluttering thing it always did around her. “Good, m’glad.”

There was a beat of silence before she spoke again, her words coming out slower, as if she was trying to steady herself. “You’re..not what I expected.”

Harry tilted his head, a curious smirk tugging at his lips. “What’d y’expect?”

She hummed, “Don’t know.” She said with a shrug, her fingers tracing absentminded circles on the cushion. “Someone a little more, I don’t know–untouchable? Like, y’know, the harry styles,’ the big deal. But you’re just harry styles, my friend.”

He laughed softly, playing with the hem of his bright pink shorts. “Jus’ me, huh? Guess that’s not s’bad.”

“It’s not.” She smiled, her eyes locking with his, and for a moment, something passed between them. Something heavier, like an acknowledgment of everything unspoken.

Harry shifted, suddenly aware of how close they had gotten during her revelation. His hand, which had been resting on her knee, slid a little higher, his fingers brushing the soft skin of her thigh. The playful banter was still there, but it was quieter now, replaced by a tension that neither of them could deny any longer.

“Y’know.”she said, breaking the silence with a small smile. “I still don’t believe you can make pancakes.”

His eyes darkened with a mixture of amusement and something deeper as he leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “Maybe I should make you breakfast tomorrow morning then.”

YN’s breath hitched, her pulse quickening at his words, and she opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, Harry’s lips were on hers. She instantly melted into it, as if an instinct. However, after a beat, the palm of her hand pressed against his shoulder. Their lips slowly separated, strings of saliva snapping at the middle from their mutual departure. Her breath rose and fell rapidly, a small smile on her lips. “How are you gonna make pancakes at the st–.”

Harry had cut her off with a groan, but it was humorous, mixed with his giggles. “Y’stopped that t’get technical?”

YN shrugged before pulling him back into the kiss, unwavering, still. It was tentative for a moment, as if he was waiting for her to push away again, but she didn’t. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his t-shirt, lips in sync as she deepened their kiss.

The taste of the fruity champagne lingered between them, intoxicating and heady. It grew hungrier, more desperate as if months of unresolved tension had finally snapped. YN’s tongue found itself swiping a soft stripe against his bottom lip, a heavy sigh emerging from him as his fingers brushed along the hem of her hoodie, slipping his hands underneath, his palm resting on the warm curve of her waist.

“H–” She whispered against his lips, her voice breathy, almost a plea. But it wasn’t a plea to stop—it was a plea for more.

His name on her lips drive him mad. With a low grown, he shifted, pulling her into his lap in one fluid motion. Her legs straddled him, holding herself as close to him as she could, their kisses turning feverish. His large hands pulled her even closer—not a centimeter of space to be left. He parted his lips, a broken breath tumbling from his mouth as she started to roll her hips against his growing cock stuck underneath the hot pink shorts.

His ring clad fingers slip father up her hoodie, the coolness of the medal a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off the both of them. Harry tugged on the fabric, pulling it over her head in a rush, revealing the thin bralette underneath. “Fuck–” He mumbled, breath caressing her skin as his lips skimmed the bone of her jawline, placing a slow, tentative kiss right at her pulse point. “So beautiful.” He was drunk in the moment that was her—figuratively and literally—his voice distant and light, like a voice breaking through a daydream.

She rolled her hips harder against him as his hands slipped under the hem of her shorts, lips sloppily trailing her chest, her nose buried in his curls. A soft moan is drawn from her as Harry’s hands grip her ass, aiding her movements of dry humping his cock. His tongue grazed the fleshy part of her breast that threatened to spill out of her bra, a shuddering exhale brushing from her lips, right into his disheveled locks.

She hastily cups his chin, pulling him from her chest to messily kiss him again. She wanted to taste the faint peach on his tongue from the champagne, to feel the stubble above his lip tickling against her. They both moaned into each other’s mouths, her fingers running down his shirt, tugging at the hem. He smiles, parting from her to pull his shirt off. It was rushed, his chin getting caught in the collar which made laughter sit between them comfortably. YN gently helps him pull the shirt from his head. It was discarded somewhere on the floor, its whereabouts not a priority.

Their cheeks are flush, lips plump and vibrant as they fall into each other’s eyes—their giggles fading out and their heavy breaths replacing it. “I want you.” She whispered, her gaze trailing from his eyes, to his lips, along the markings of his torso, then back up again.

He nodded, pressing his forehead against hers with a shaky breath. “Yeah?”

She hummed, though it sounded similar to a purr—a divinely feminine melody that made him twitch under the fabric that held him from her. “Yeah.”

He gives her a quick peck before tapping her thigh and guiding her off his lap. He looks at her as his thumb slips under the waistband of both his shorts and boxers, his glance expectant of some sort of approval or denial.

Her hands reach back behind her, unclasping the bra and letting the straps fall from her shoulders; to which he took that as his go ahead. Harry bucks his hips from the couch, tugging the clothing down his legs and letting it fall onto the floor. His cock slapped against his abdomen from the sheer force of how quickly he freed himself. It was bigger than she had expected, the head a pretty pink that glistened with precum.

He didn’t give her a chance to react for herself as he pulled along her bare waist, ushering YN back onto him. He planted kisses along her breast, the hem of her shorts sitting right against his chest, his large hands holding her inches above the cock she so desperate to fill herself up with.

His tongue encircled the bud of her nipple, one hand still gripping her ass to keep her pressed against his chest, above his length—while the other fell a tad lower, his index and middle finger slipping underneath the leg of her shorts and panties, brushing along her wet folds.

She could feel his lips spread into a smirk before he began to suck on her nipple. She buried her face into his curls, grasping onto the roots as his digits sat at the entrance of her core, heat radiating from her cunt as her arousal soaked the tips of his fingers. She whimpers, wanting to grind down on them and fill her up until his knuckles sat harshly against her folds, but he held her in place—the grip on the soft part of her ass feeling rougher. He looks up at her through his eyelashes, though her face is hidden in his hair, he still revels in it. “Y’that desperate for it, hm?”

She nods against the top of his head, eyes squeezing shut. “Yes, Harry.” She whined, fingers tightly laced between his locks. “Fuck–please, I need it.”

His mouth finds its way back to her tits as he eases his thick fingers into her cunt, tauntingly slow. Her walls fluttered around him, a soft moan escaping her as he pumped his fingers in and out, the sound of her wetness was hot, filthy—the way it bounced around the room. It only made him harder knowing that no one else will know what happened here besides them.

He curls his digits into a spot that makes her hips buck harder against his chest, a yelp emitting from the top of her throat, which he takes as a moment to smack the fleshy part of her ass, it wasn’t very hard, as if he was testing the waters to try to understand what she needed. Judging from the noises she made, and how her bum seemed to push a slight wiggle into the palm of his hand, he figured she liked it.

He pumps his fingers faster, his knuckles almost pounding against her core as he sneaks the opportunity to spank her again. A string of profanities and whiny pleas fell from her, her hands falling to a grip on his shoulders as he coaxed her to the brink of coming on just his fingers alone.

His lips are sloppy against her chest, more focused on how his digits buried themselves into her pussy. Her words aren’t coherent, a ringing faint in her ears as she tightens around him, her hips erupting into a shudder as she rides out her orgasm. He lightens the grip from her bum, allowing her to roll her hips with his fingers still deep inside her, basking in how she tried to milk herself of every drop she could.

Once her movements still, he slowly pulls out of her, the two making eye contact as he brings the two fingers to his mouth, wrapping his lips around them prettily, licking her arousal from the source.

Her breaths were heavy, eyes darkened as she watched the dirtiest thing play out in front of her. His eyes flutter to a close, a smirk speaking across his lips as if it was the most heavenly thing he’s tasted; she already feels the knot in her tummy tightening again.

She pulls him into a kiss, meeting each other harshly as she tastes herself from his lips. His hands brush along the small of her back, then to her hips, slipping the shorts and panties down her legs and off her ankles with an awkward, momentary shift in position to do so. She lowers herself as much as he’d allow, his lips stilling as he feels her heat against the head of his cock. He pulls away slightly, forehead against hers with a small flicker of disappointment on his features. “I don’t have a condom.” His voice low and raspy, thick with lust as he held her against him once again, unable to fill herself as she desired.

Her chest rose and fell heavily, eyes meeting his. “M’on the pill.” She whispered, voice breathy and light from her previous orgasm.

His eyebrows furrowed, gaze unwavering in hers. This is something he normally would never do, fucking someone unprotected. But the way his cock ached for her was damn near painful, and he trusted her. A friend he’d come to cherish, although in the back of his mind, he wanted her more than a friend. He darted his eyes between hers and the way her tummy fluttered with heavy breath. His glance was expectant again, silently needing approval to even think of continuing.

She wiggled her hips in his grasp once more, her a whiny plea a soft mutter—and it’s all he needed to hear. She sank onto his length, a slow strain befell them from how he had to ease his cock into her pussy, stretching her out with every upward motion of his hips.

The feeling of him filling her was addicting to both, pleasured sighs and moans emitting from each of them as she adjusted around his length, sinking down the shaft completely. Only a beat had past before she started to roll her hips into him, adjusting to the feeling of him. One hand sat sprawled against her back, will the other remained on her ass. Harry’s head leaned along the edge of the couch, watching through half-lidded eyes at the way her tits moved as she began to bounce on his length, having him draw sharp inhale at the feeling. “Jus’ like that.” He groaned, the hand on her back and bum guiding her movements. “Good girl–y’feel so good, jus–” He cuts off his own sentence with a moan, his head falling forward now, just a bit. His forehead grazed along her shoulder—barely—every time she’d bob up the length of his cock. “Like that, bunny–fuck.” His voice was breathy, listening to the pretty moans that escaped her and the way her cunt sounded riding his cock.

His hand slid down her back, both gripping her ass a bit roughy as he guided her movements with more force. Her lips fell agape, a whimper falling out now and then as Harry held her weight as if it was nothing, moving her up and down his thick cock with an ease that made her cry out his name.

He pushed and pulled her onto him greedily, her head falling onto his shoulder as he rested his chin on hers, watching as he pounded her onto the base of his length. The sharp sounds of skin against skin mixed in with their moans, a cacophony of their pleasure filling the lounge.

He loosened his grip from her bum, smacking her ass as his other hand gathered her hair into his fist, jerking her head back to force a semblance of eye contact. The palm of his other hand rested over her thigh, continuing to guide her movements though the momentum from her own hands against his shoulders was enough.

He knew he was close, and the way her noises got louder, how her cunt tightened around him—Harry knew she was close, too. The tiny fraction of him that held an ounce of logic through his drunken pleasure told him to pull out, but it fell to the back of his mind, silenced with the sound of his own moans and the way his length twitched, the knot in his belly rounding tightly. “Look at me.” He forced through a grunt, his toes curling against the carpet and his jaw tightened as he tried to stall his release.

The grip on his shoulders was lethal, though the only thing he could feel was her pussy fluttering around him. Her hair was still balled tightly in his fist, craning her head into a position where their foreheads were only a few inches away—the only thing that would keep her from looking if she closed her eyes. She wouldn’t though.

His hand pushed harder against her thigh, both of their skin flushed a pink from the force of the contact of the way her ass and thighs slapped along his pelvis. “Say my name–” His groan was guttural, as if he was teetering on the edge of losing his composure. With his grip still in her hair, he pressed her forehead into his, both slick with a gleam of sweat. “When you come—say it.” He grunted, eyes meeting hers once again. “Or I won’t let you.”

She felt her legs to tremble, her lips parting as the cries and whimpers of his name escaped her like a mantra. His chest rose and fell unevenly, pressing her forehead into hers further as they met their release simultaneously. Thick ropes of come fill her cunt to the point where it drips out around him. Their breaths are heavy and quick, his hands soft against the skin of her legs as they tremble, pressing his lips atop her shoulders as she sinks into his chest.

The next morning arrived in a hazy blur. The sky was gray as it prepared itself for a summer thunderstorm. The pitter-patter of rain hitting the window caused him to stir first, a wince from feeling the stiffness in his neck before anything else. His back was pressed awkwardly into the couch, his arm draped around something soft and warm. He blinked his eyes open, the dull light from the stormy sky offering not very much of anything as it bled through the blinds. The familiar scent of the studio mixed with something more intoxicating—YN.

He nudged his chin down to glance at the girl curled up on his chest, his shirt from last night adorning her frame as soft snores fell from her mouth. Their legs were tangled together underneath a thin throw blanket with Christmas patterns he didn’t remember grabbing before passing out. The events of last night came in a rushed haze from the smell of the champagne on his own breath. He shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable, but the movement pulled YN from her slumber. She let out a small groan before nuzzling deeper into his bare chest, not wanting to let go of the warmth.

The smell of Harry’s cologne caused her eyes to peel open, her brow furrowing in confusion as she took in her surroundings.

“Morning.” Harry had rasped out, voice still thick with sleep.

She blinked, and then placed her palms against his chest to push herself up. She glanced around the studio with the turn of her head, then back at Harry with an unreadable expression. Her hair was disheveled, Harry’s discarded shirt hung loosely around her—she could feel the thickness of his come seeping out of her, pooling in her underwear and forming a dampened spot. “Oh my god.”

He winced involuntarily, and this time it wasn’t from the ache in his neck. “Um.” He paused, voice cautious. “Yeah.”

YN bit her lip, sitting up fully as she slipped into a spot between his thighs. The cushion was soft against her bum as she pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “Yeah.” She echoed his words, unsure of what to say.

Harry had scoot up slightly, the small of his back against the arm of the sofa. He rubbed his neck, sighing from the crick he developed for sleeping in such an awkward position. “Are you okay?”

She looked at him, her eyes still a bit dazed from the remnants of sleep and the weight of their shared moment. YN offered him a small smile, “Mhm.” She hummed, but an uncertainty glimmered along the edge of her pupil, unsure of what came next. “Not exactly used to waking up like this, I guess–but I’m okay.”

He nodded slowly, though a frown threatened to spread across his lips. He reached out hesitantly, palm resting on her knee as he sighed. “You regret it?” He asked, though it sounded rhetorical.

Her face seemed to soften at his words, sincerity and a hint of hurt evident in his expression. A furrow formed in her forehead as she shook her head, placing a hand on top of the one he sat on her knee. “No, H. ‘Course not.” She paused, shifting in her seat before forcing herself to stand, his hand slipping from her knee back into his own lap. It felt cold, and he knew she was pulling away. She very quickly stripped Harry’s shirt off—to which he averted his eyes to the ground—shrugging back on her own hoodie and shorts.

“YN.” Harry mumbled, his voice shaking as he pulled his shirt back over his head. She seemed distracted, slipping her shoes back on and putting her phone into the hoodie pocket before she trailed back toward Harry, gazing down at where he sat on the couch. He had looked at her the way he always seemed to look at her, eyes full of things that would stay unsaid. “What does this mean?”

She kneeled before him almost immediately, combing her fingers through his hair in a moment of comfort. “Doesn’t have to mean anything.” Her voice was soft, kind, as if that was the thing he wanted to hear. “We’re friends, this won’t make it weird, okay?”

He could feel his heart sink into his stomach as he nodded with slight trepidation, wishing she would just open herself up and allow him to hold her, to show her that he wouldn’t let go. “I don’t regret it, never ever.” She murmured, ducking her head down a bit to meet his gaze that seemed to lower at her words. “I swear it.”

He forced a smile, her hand pulling away from his curls—the curls she previously moaned into, the hair that she tangled her fingers in from an orgasm that crashed over her like a wave. He swallowed dryly as she back stood up, still not looking away from him. A defeat settled over him, an impatient longing as he realized if he was ever going to have a chance with the woman before him, he’d have to wait. He didn’t know what pain she held, the things she guarded so strongly, but he knew she would have to admit to herself first that she was worthy of something good. Harry parted his lips, taking a deep breath to keep his voice steady. “Stay friends?” He asked expectantly, holding out a pinky to her.

She smiled, a sad one, however. She wanted to wrap him into her arms and apologize for making the choice to walk away, but she felt it was best. YN believed she wasn’t what he deserved, and it would be in his best interest to pretend like everything went back to normal. She lowered her hand, intertwining her pinky with his. “Stay friends.”

On August fourth, The studio was bathed in a soft, golden glow, the late afternoon sun filtering through the one window in the control room. Everyone, besides YN and Harry, went out for their lunch break. Harry had asked if she would help her tweak the soon-to-be third track on the album, Carolina.

Since waking up from the sex they had in the lounge, they hadn’t brought it up—though it didn’t disappear. There would be moments where it loomed over them, heavy and unrelenting. It took everything in them not to bridge that specific gap, took everything in Harry not to bend her over the soundboard to feel her again, took everything in him not to fall to his knees before her, hugging her legs while he cried about how he was helplessly falling for her.

It was the hottest day of the year, and though the air conditioner was humming in a low buzz, the air was thick with warmth. The kind of still, lingering heat that made everything feel slow and hazy, like time itself had paused for a moment. Harry picked up his guitar, fingers brushing over the strings, testing the familiar weight of it in his hands. The sound of the first strum seemed to melt into the air, easy, relaxed, as if the room itself was humming along to the rhythm.

She kneeled down, across from the spot Harry sat on the floor, guitar in lap. She pressed on certain strings on specific parts of the neck, eyes flickering between Harry and the instrument expectantly. They both knew the notes and the chords, the tone it could give. “Try those notes.”She murmured, moving Harry’s Hand from where it sat on the neck to where she wanted his fingers to be. Her touch was delicate, and if Harry didn’t reground himself he would’ve forgot what was happening all together. “Lean into the groove more?” Her words were laced with a light chuckle as she stood up, looking back down at the brunette on the floor. “Loosen up a bassline, could add some layered harmonies, something subtle, but it'll give the track more depth."

Harry's eyes lit up, a spark of excitement that always seemed to come alive when YN shared her thoughts. She had this uncanny way of making the most complex ideas sound simple. He nodded eagerly, strumming a few playful chords, the sound bouncing off the walls of the empty studio. "Yeah, that's it.” He whispered to himself excitedly, already hearing the song in his head. He began playing, the cords, melody bright and carefree, his fingers gliding effortlessly over the strings.

The atmosphere shifted almost instantly—no longer weighed down by deadlines or pressure, but filled with something light. Harry stood up without a word, the grin never leaving his face as he strummed the revisioned tune, the guitar hanging casually from his shoulder as he waltzed across the room, his voice bouncing with the light-hearted lyrics. The brunette’s footsteps were lazy, carefree, his long legs carrying him in wide, exaggerated circles as he moved with the rhythm, his laughter spilling out between the lyrics. It was easy—so easy—that the line between the song and the moment blurred.

“She’s a good girl.”

his voice bright and full of mischief as he twirled past her, catching her eye. He wiggled his eyebrows, a playful challenge, daring her to join in.

YN couldn’t help herself, he was infectious . She laughed, the sound so genuine and pure it filled the air. She pushed away from the soundboard, and before she could even think of hesitation, she was dancing and hopping around in time to the music, letting herself get lost along with him.

“Such a good girl”

She really was, like when he buried himself between her legs a few weeks ago.

The hem of her dainty sundress swept around her shins in a slow, lazy twirl. Her laughter mixed with the sound of the guitar, light and unguarded, like the weight of the world had lifted, just for this one moment.

Harry’s voice followed her as he floated around, his fingers never missing a beat. The melody was effortless, the chords bright and warm like the fading summer light that filled the room. His gaze flicked toward her every few seconds, catching the way she moved, her arms outstretched as she spun in gentle circles, her hair catching the golden light in soft waves.

The whole scene felt like something out of time, like they had stepped into an old, grainy film reel—faded sun, carefree laughter, and the kind of simplicity that made everything else fade into the background. There was no rush, no pressure, just the music and the way they moved through it together.

Harry kept playing, his voice growing louder, more animated, as he circled back to her, his laughter echoing in the small space. He swayed, leaning into the guitar as he strummed, almost tripping over a cable but catching himself at the last second with a dramatic flourish. YN continued her movements, her arms floating through the air, soft and unhurried, like she was dancing with the music itself.

And then, in one smooth motion, Harry waltzed closer, standing just a few feet away from her as he played the final chorus. His smile was wide, eyes bright with the joy of the moment, and YN met his gaze with the same carefree energy, spinning one last time before she collapsed against the stool, breathless from her giggles.

The last chord hung in the air for a moment longer, lingering like the final rays of sunlight spilling through the window. The room was still humming with the energy they’d created, the echoes of their laughter and the bright notes of the guitar lingering in the walls. Harry let the guitar slide gently to his side, leaning against the stool as he caught his breath, his chest rising and falling in time with YN’s, her face flushed and glowing. He was grinning, the kind of grin that reached his eyes and made his dimples crater.

For a second, everything felt perfect, untouched by the noise of the outside world. It was just the two of them, the fading summer light, and the echo of a song that hadn’t yet been recorded but already felt like it was carved into their shared memory.

All he wanted to do was kiss her again.

She was perched on her chair now, her legs crossed, still smiling from their little impromptu dance. She glowed with the warmth of the sun filtering in through the window. The carefree, playful energy between them began to settle, but the air didn’t lose its charge. Instead, something softer slipped into the space between them, a kind of comfortable quiet as they both let the last traces of laughter fade away.

Harry wiped a hand across his forehead, pushing back a few stray curls as he looked over at her, the easy grin still tugging at his lips. The guitar rested against his knee as he sat down, but he didn’t play, didn’t move. He was just watching her now, the way her fingers traced absentminded circles on the edge of the stool, the way her gaze was still bright with that unguarded laughter. It was rare to see her like this—unguarded, fully present—and Harry found himself caught in the moment, not wanting it to end.

Just as that night in July, when we pulled her into her chest to sleep for the night—when it felt like he could call her his as he wrapped his arms around her, basking in their afterglow.

YN let out a soft sigh, the last of her breathless laughter leaving her, and when she looked at him, her expression shifted. Something quieter, more serious. The playful glint in her eyes softened into something almost reverent, like she was seeing him—really seeing him.

“You know, Harry.” She smiled, her voice gentle but firm, like she was about to say something important. “This album–” There was a pause as she exhaled through her nose, but it was light from her enthused realization. “It’s going to go down as a classic. It’s real. You’re real. Your talent, the rawness of it—it’s something people won’t forget.”

The words landed between them like a weight, soft but undeniable. Harry felt his heart skip, his smile faltering just slightly as her words settled in. He’d heard compliments before—so many, often thrown around casually—but this… this was different. The sincerity in her voice, the way her eyes held his, unflinching, unwavering, as if she wasn’t just saying something kind, but something true.

For a moment, the room seemed to shift around him. It was like the air grew thicker, the light softer, the world quieter. He felt exposed, in a way he hadn’t expected, like her words had peeled back a layer he’d been hiding under, a layer he hadn’t even realized was there. The compliment wasn’t just about the music, wasn’t just about the work they’d been doing. It felt personal, like she saw him—not the version of him the world saw, not Harry, the soloist, but him, Harry. The guy trying to figure it all out, pouring every piece of himself into this album, hoping that it would matter.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly tight, and for a second, he wasn’t sure what to say.

He thought about telling her thank you.

He thought about remaining speechless.

No one had told him something like that in a long time—not like this, not with this kind of weight. He could feel his chest tightening, his pulse thrumming a little too fast, the gravity of her words sinking deeper than he thought they would.

He thought about her words.

He thought about her.

“YN, I—” He started to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time, he wondered if maybe she understood him more than he’d ever realized. Maybe that was why her words felt so heavy, why they struck him in a way nothing else had. Because they came from her.

He thought about how much he wanted to say he was starting to fall in love with her.

But before he could say anything else, the door to the studio swung open with a loud creak, breaking the moment like a pebble dropped into still water. The team was back, their voices filling the room as they filed in, the soft hum of conversation and the shuffle of papers cutting through the silence that had wrapped around him and YN.

“Alright, alright, back to it.” Jeff chuckled, ever the dad friend, clapping his hands as he made his way toward the control board. The mood shifted, the studio returning to its usual buzz of activity, the easy rhythm of work settling back into place.

Harry blinked, the spell of the moment breaking as he straightened up, shaking off the sudden heaviness in his chest. YN gave him a small, knowing smile, her eyes still holding a trace of the warmth from before, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. She’d already said what mattered.

She knew the look in Harry’s eye.

She had thought about how much she missed him.

She thought about how much that scared her.

With a soft sigh, Harry adjusted the guitar on his lap, nodding as the team gathered around, discussing admin details, technical tweaks, and publicity strategies for the album’s release. The room was buzzing again, the easy laughter and lightness of earlier replaced with the steady hum of work. But Harry’s mind was still lingering on what YN had said, the quiet sincerity of her words looping in the back of his mind.

As the evening stretched on, the work became more mechanical—emails, calls, planning—but Harry’s thoughts kept drifting back to her. He couldn’t shake the way she drifted around the room earlier, like a dandelion wisp dancing in the wind. How her laugh sounded so pretty he wanted to put it in a song. How real it had felt when she’d looked at him and told him what his music would become. It was a compliment, sure, but it was more than that. It was a belief. And for the first time in a long while, Harry felt like someone saw him exactly as he was, and believed in him all the same.

That day at the studio soon began to draw to a close, the golden light from earlier now softening into deep ambers and long shadows. The room, once buzzing with activity, had fallen into a more relaxed rhythm as the team packed up their things, saying their goodbyes with tired but satisfied smiles. The project was moving, inching closer to the finish line.

Harry leaned back, watching from the corner of the room as the last of the crew made their way to the door. The sounds of zippers closing and bags being slung over shoulders filled the space, each member of the team calling out their see-you-laters, their voices fading as they spilled out into the hallway. One by one, they disappeared, until the door swung shut with a final, quiet click, leaving just Harry and YN behind.

The silence settled in slowly, wrapping itself around the room like a warm, familiar blanket. It was the kind of silence that felt more like a presence than an absence, thick and heavy with something unspoken. Harry ran his fingers over the neck of his guitar one last time before placing it back on its stand, the metal strings catching the fading light. His movements were slow, almost deliberate, like he was trying to hold on to the quiet a little longer.

He glanced over his shoulder, noticing that YN was still at the small table near the edge of the room, shuffling her things about. She was moving slower than usual, her hands hovering over her notebook, lingering on the scattered papers like she wasn’t quite ready to leave. Harry chuckled softly, the sound breaking the stillness.

“Need help with all that?” he asked, his voice airy, teasing in a way that felt natural between them.

But YN didn’t respond right away. She kept her eyes down, focused on her things, but her movements were stiffer now, less fluid. There was something different in the way she stood there, something quiet but undeniably present—an undercurrent of tension Harry couldn’t quite place. He felt the air shift, that familiar warmth between them suddenly giving way to something more solemn, more guarded.

“YN?” Harry asked, his voice softer now, his smile fading as he stepped toward her. “Everything alright?”

She looked up then, her eyes catching his for the briefest moment before she quickly glanced away again, like she couldn’t hold the gaze for too long. Her expression was calm, but there was a tightness in her jaw, something held back, something she wasn’t sure how to say. She let out a soft sigh, the weight of whatever was on her mind finally beginning to show.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you.” She started, her voice low and measured, like she was carefully choosing each word. “August thirty-first.” She bit the inside of her lip momentarily. “It’ll be my last day here. My internship—it’s ending.”

The words landed between them like a quiet echo, reverberating in the space left behind by the day’s fading energy. Harry felt the weight of them settle in his chest, heavier than he had expected. He knew the internship wouldn’t last forever—of course, he’d known that—but hearing it out loud, hearing it from her, made it feel real in a way he hadn’t prepared for.

For a moment, Harry didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at her, trying to make sense of the sudden tightness in his throat. It felt like the air had been knocked out of him, but he didn’t quite understand why. She was still there, right in front of him, but the idea of her leaving, of this chapter ending, hit him harder than he thought it would.

“Your last day.” He repeated quietly, more to himself than to her, his brows knitting together slightly.

YN nodded, but she didn’t look at him. She busied herself with the papers in her hands, though it was clear she wasn’t really doing anything—just moving things around to avoid the heaviness of the conversation. The atmosphere had changed, charged with an unsaid emotion. It reminded Harry of the way people talk about those long, hot August nights, the kind where the sky is still bright at 9pm, but you can feel autumn creeping in around the edges, making the warmth feel both infinite and fleeting.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, letting out a quiet breath as he leaned against the control board. He wasn’t sure what to say.

Part of him wondered if it was because of the sex. A part of him wanted to ask her to stay, to find some reason to keep her there, keep things as they were. But he knew he couldn’t. That wasn’t the way the world worked, no matter how much you wanted to freeze a moment in time.

“How come?” He finally asked, his voice quieter now, softer in a way that mirrored the dimming light of the room.

YN shrugged slightly, her shoulders barely moving. “I’ve known for a bit. It’s temporary, only a summer internship.”

Harry nodded, understanding, though the weight in his chest hadn’t eased. It was hard for him, realizing that after all the late nights, the music, the moments shared, things would change. And YN—who had always kept that quiet distance, who never let anyone too close—wasn’t just leaving the studio. She was leaving him, even if she didn’t mean it that way.

The room felt smaller now, the silence between them growing heavier with every passing second. Harry looked down at his hands, tracing the worn edges of the soundboard with his thumb, searching for something to say that wouldn’t feel like an end.

“I’ll miss you.” He admitted solemnly, the words simple, but honest. They hung in the air like a truth too big for him to admit, they hung in the air like three words she wouldn’t have believed if he said it.

YN smiled then, a small, bittersweet smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She still looked guarded, her walls firmly in place, but there was something soft in the way she glanced up at him, like maybe she felt it too—the finality of the moment they were both trying to avoid.

“I’ll miss you, too.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

And for a brief, fragile second, it was just them again, standing in the soft glow of the studio lights, the world outside forgotten. The weight of time, of change, of things left unsaid—all of it hung between them, heavy but delicate, like a glass teetering on the edge of a table.

Harry opened his mouth, wanting to say more, to ask her something, anything to keep her there a little longer. But before he could find the words, the moment slipped away, the weight of reality settling back in as YN turned away, gathering the last of her things.

The light from the hallway spilled into the room as she reached for the door, casting a long shadow across the studio floor. Harry watched as she stepped toward it, his heart heavy with the knowledge that everything was about to change, whether he was ready for it or not.

YN hesitated in the hallway, every nerve in her body begging her to leave. Her heart sat heavy in her chest, tongue in cheek as she turned back around, opening the door back up with trembling fingers. She stood in the doorway, cracked enough for her frame to linger. A stripe of the nauseating white light of the hallway waned over him and he remained in the same place she had left him moments ago. “Harry.” She muttered, her voice low, almost weary. There was something in the way she said his name, something different—like maybe she wanted to say more but didn’t know how to.

He perked up, his tummy doing flips. The pearly glow behind her made her seem ethereal—angelic. “Yeah?” His tone gentle but searching, like he was trying to pull something unspoken out of the quiet between them.

She looked at him then, fully, her eyes catching the last remnants of the dim light in the studio. For a moment, the guardedness slipped, just a fraction, and Harry could see something underneath—something vulnerable, something that felt a little like goodbye.

“I’m really glad I got to work with you.” YN’s voice was delicate, her words carrying a weight that made it threaten to crack. “This–this has been more than I ever could’ve asked for.”

She was referring to more than just the music and the internship.

Harry swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He didn’t know what to say to that—didn’t know how to tell her that she wasn’t just some random, throwaway intern to him, that these past few months had meant more than just music and late-night studio sessions. She had become a part of his world in a way he hadn’t anticipated, and now that she was leaving, it felt like something vital was being pulled away, leaving him standing on unsteady ground.

“Me too.” He confessed, though he could’ve said more. Harry’s voice was quieter than he intended, his hand running over his face from a feeling he couldn’t admit.

The words hung in the air, soft but honest. YN had seen parts of him that few people did—had understood his music, his vulnerabilities, in a way that made him feel seen. And now, the thought of her not being there—of her walking out that door and leaving all of this behind—made him feel strangely untethered.

YN’s lips curved into a small, almost wistful smile. She looked down at her shoes for a moment, the tip of her sneaker nudging a stray cable on the floor. “I didn’t mean to stay so late.” A weak attempt at lightening the moment. But her eyes betrayed her, the flicker of something deeper still lingering behind her words.

Harry took a step closer, closing the distance between them just slightly. “You know.”Harry mumbled, his tone lighter now, though the heaviness between them still lingered. “This feels a lot like a goodbye when y’have a few weeks still.”

YN glanced up at him, her smile fading into something more thoughtful. “Yeah, I guess we do.” She let out a breathy chuckle, though her voice sounded distant, like she was already somewhere else in her mind.

Silence settled between them again, thicker this time, like the room itself was holding its breath. Harry wanted to say more—wanted to ask her what came next for her, wanted to tell her that maybe things didn’t have to end here—tell her to stay. But he didn’t. The words caught in his throat, tangled up with all the emotions he wasn’t sure how to name.

After a moment, YN shifted her bag on her shoulder and let out a soft breath. “I should get going.” She sighed, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s late.”

Harry nodded, but his chest felt heavy, like he didn’t want her to leave just yet. “Yeah. Right. Let me know you got home okay.”

YN’s smile was small, almost bittersweet. She began to turn in the doorway, her movements slow, like the action of leaving pained her. He sent her a small wave as she gave him one last glance, the door softly clicking shut behind her.

The summer had begun to slip away quietly, the August sun sitting lower in the sky at earlier hours. The air was different that day—thicker, heavier with the weight of something ending. There was a finality to the way the light filtered through the studio’s window, soft and hazy, like the last days of vacation in an old photograph. Everything felt suspended, as though the world was holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable.

Harry had known this day was coming. He’d tried not to think about it, tried to focus on the album, on the music, on the thousand little tasks that came with putting it all together. But today was different. No matter how much he had tried to push it out of his mind, the date had circled back around, staring him in the face.

August thirty-first.

YN’s last day.

He arrived at the studio earlier than usual, the streets outside still quiet, the early morning light pale and soft against the burning. The usual buzz of excitement—the thrill of working on his debut album—was muted, overshadowed by the knowledge that by the end of the day, YN would be gone.

As he set his guitar in the corner of the room, he caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye. She was already there, sitting at her usual spot by the control board, her notebook open in front of her, a pen poised between her fingers. She was focused, scribbling something down, but her movements were slower, more deliberate today. Harry could tell. She knew it too.

The room was quieter than usual, the hum of the equipment the only sound as he walked over to her. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t easy either. It felt like there were a hundred things left unsaid, hanging in the air between them, waiting to be acknowledged. But neither of them said anything. Not yet.

“Morning.” Harry said softly, settling down into his chair across from her. He didn’t dare to greet her with good morning, because it really wasn’t. Not today. He didn’t know when it would be again.

“Morning.” She murmured, voice almost resigned, not looking up from her notebook. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and Harry felt his chest tighten.

They spent the morning working in the usual rhythm, going over the last details of the album. It should have been a day like any other, but there was a tension under the surface, something neither of them could quite shake. Every moment felt like it was leading up to something, like the end was creeping closer with each passing minute.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, the studio had filled with the usual buzz of people—producers, assistants, technicians—all busy, all focused. But Harry’s mind was somewhere else. He kept glancing over at YN, watching the way she moved around the studio, the way she interacted with everyone, like it was just another day. But he could see it in the way she lingered on certain tasks, the way her eyes scanned the room as if she was memorizing it.

It was nearing the end of the day when the rest of the team began wrapping up, gathering their things, making plans for the next session. The sun had begun to dip lower in the sky, casting the room in that soft, golden light that made everything feel both beautiful and bittersweet. Harry watched as the others said their goodbyes to YN, one by one, thanking her for her work, telling her to stay in touch. She smiled, gracious as ever, but there was a faraway look in her eyes, as if she were already one foot out the door.

And then, it was just the two of them.

The door clicked shut behind the last person, and suddenly the room felt much bigger, the space between them much quieter. Harry stood by the window, his hands in his pockets, watching the light fade as the day slipped into evening. YN was still by the control board, slowly packing up her things—her notebook, her pens, the little scraps of paper she’d scribbled ideas on over the past few months. Her movements were slow, deliberate, holding onto to the moment just a little longer.

Harry turned to face her, his pulse thrumming a little too fast. He wasn’t sure what to say. He hadn’t prepared for this moment, not really. He had spent the last few weeks trying to avoid thinking about it, but now, standing there in the dimming light, he realized he still didn’t want her to leave.

“Are you all set?” He asked quietly, his voice sounding too casual for how much dread he felt inside.

YN glanced up, her eyes meeting his for the first time all day. There was a flicker of something there—something that matched the weight in his chest—but she quickly looked away, zipping up her bag with a small nod.

“I guess so.” She forced a smile, standing up from her chair. “I think that’s everything.”

The silence that followed felt as if nails scratched an old chalkboard, stretching out between them like a line drawn in the sand. Harry took a slow breath, trying to steady himself, trying to find the words he hadn’t been able to say all day. He watched as she slung her bag over her shoulder, her fingers brushing lightly over the edge of the soundboard one last time, like she was saying goodbye to something bigger than just the room.

Harry wanted to ask her to stay, wanted to tell her that things didn’t have to end here—that maybe, just maybe, there was more for them beyond this room, beyond this summer. But he couldn’t. He knew her too well by now, knew that she had already made up her mind.

“I guess this is goodbye then.” She frowned, eyes glasses over.

His stomach lurched. She had his number, of course, but Harry didn’t know if she would keep in contact. He didn’t know she would erase the summer from her mind to ease her heart. Harry swallowed hard, the lump in his throat causing him to wince. “Goodbye, YN.”

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The room was bathed in the last traces of sunshine, everything feeling suspended in time. And then, slowly, YN stepped toward the door, her fingers brushing the handle. She paused, glancing back at him one last time, her expression unreadable.

And he caught himself. The all too familiar lump in his throat at a dull ache, the tip of his nose tickling as he felt tears well up. His feet moved faster than he could think, just a blink of time, and his hand was wrapped around her forearm, pulling YN away from the door. “That’s it?” He asked, his cheeks flushing red and his voice cracked. “That’s all?”

She frowned, her nostrils flaring as she willed away her tears. She adjusted the tote on her shoulder, averting her gaze from Harry to the wall behind him.

“Stay.” He pleaded, she only shook her head.

Stray tears fell from his eyes, heartbroken. “I can have them extend your internship, or something—please.”

Her eyes met his again, stomach twisting at his tears. “Harry that’s a hand out.” She muttered, sighing with a sadness she tried to push away. “I have to move forward.”

He sniffled, lighting placing his hand on her cheek as he brought her into a kiss. His tears made his lips wet, nose too stuffy to breathe through it—but he didn’t care. He figured this was goodbye, for a while.

Her lips were stilled against his until she melted into it, but it was fleeting. She placed her hand upon the one he had on her cheek, removing it as she pulled her face away. She intertwined her fingers with his, placing a few soft kisses to his knuckles.

He only stood there, lips quivering with tears that were unable to stop. As she began to loosen the grip on his hand, putting his arm back to his side, an audible cry left his mouth. It wasn’t loud, barely above a whisper, but it was there. “Y’pinky promised me.” He shook his head, “That we would stay friends.” He took a deep breath, wiping away some of his tears. “But I know you’re gonna disappear on me.”

This time she let her tears fall, taking a step away—the guilt was allconsiming. “Take care of yourself, H.”

And just like that, she was gone as quick as she came.

But that was two months ago, and Harry was right—she barely kept in contact with him. He tried not to take it personally for a while, seeing as she didn’t update her socials as much either. She disappeared just like a snuffed out flickered flame of a candle.

She would respond occasionally, curious to know if he was okay, how the album was going. It was always fine.

Fine, fine, fine.

But he wasn’t fine, it wasn’t fine. He missed her, Harry felt that she broke their promise. And he wanted to be angry, to block her from his mind, but he couldn’t.

He was planning to fly to LA to finish the rest of the album in late September, but couldn’t do it. He remained in New York, not ready to let go of the many things created in that studio.

It was two in the morning as he stared at the bright glare of his phone, the recently sent attachment of the final cut of Carolina staying the dismal state of delivered.

He knew she had her read receipts on, which is why he didn’t swipe away from their messages—heart thudding against his chest as he waited to see if status would ever change to read.

Of course, undeniably so, the song was about another girl. But now it felt like a contradictory, because the only thing he thought about when listening to it was YN.

He knew now that he loved her, that he was in love with her the minute she sent her nod of approval for the From the Dining Table recording.

He was a walking joke to the saying of, she fell first, he fell harder—because he fell first, and then fell even harder.

Harry groaned, shutting his phone off and letting it slip into his lap as he leaned back onto the bed. The heel of his palm sat against his eyes, the pressure allowing for the kaleidoscope of colors and patterns to play on the inside of his eyelids.

He wondered if slamming his head against the wall would feel better than the ache of heartbreak.

However, he didn’t want to test that theory out. He’ll let it remain as a hypothesis for now.

His hands brushed down to his sides, his vision fading back to normal as he stared at the ceiling. He wanted to see if he could go to sleep, maybe even watch a movie—but his phone vibrated against his thigh and he swore the world stopped spinning on its axis for a beat.

He hesitated to look, if it was another weather notification he would probably lose his mind.

But he sat up anyway, grimacing as he clicked the power button, dreading the possible sight of the familiar blue icon.

Yn: everything i imagined it to be and more

Yn: forever proud of you harry styles

His shoulders faltered, a frown settling upon his lips.

h: I miss you.

YN stared at the message, lips parted. She still sat on the bathroom counter where she had been for the last ten minutes, smooshed close to the mirror in attempt to shape her eyebrows.

But as soon as she saw the song attachment pop up three minutes ago, the tweezers remained in its clattered state in the sink.

When the song emitted from her phone she couldn’t help but smile, she swear she could’ve floated. And then she cried.

h: I have 2 more songs to finalize before we send it through to be released next year.

h: Miss picking your brain.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, a pause in her breath. She wasn’t sure what to say. Part of her wanted to respond right away, to fill the silence with words, to close the gap between them that had grown wider with every passing day since she left. But the other part of her—the part that had been protecting her heart all these months—wanted to stay distant, to keep things as they were, safely tucked away in the past.

YN sighed, running a hand through her hair as she glanced at herself in the mirror. She barely recognized the woman staring back at her. The one who had walked out of the studio with a heavy heart and the quiet resolve to move forward, to start anew. But that resolve was wavering now, and Harry’s words were making it impossible to ignore the ache she’d been trying to avoid.

Her phone buzzed again. Another message.

h: Still time to come back, you know. We could finish the album together.

Her heart clenched at the invitation. She could picture him, sitting in the dim light of his apartment, maybe lying in bed, the soft glow of his phone the only thing lighting up his face. She imagined the look in his eyes as he typed the words, that same softness she had seen in him so many times before—when they worked late into the night, when he caught her staring too long, when he let his guard down just enough for her to see the vulnerability underneath.

But she had walked away for a reason. She knew what it would do to her—how easy it would be to fall back into the rhythm of working with Harry, of getting lost in his music, in him. And she wasn’t sure she was ready for that. She wasn’t sure if she could handle the intensity of what lingered between them, the unspoken connection that had grown stronger with every conversation, every glance, every laugh shared.

She didn’t know if she wanted to take the risk to be left again.

h: Please. Just think about it.

Her fingers trembled as she typed, mouth ran dry. She didn’t know what to say, but she knew she couldn’t leave him hanging.

Yn: i’ll think about it

It was short, maybe too short, but it was all she could offer in that moment. She stared at the message for a long time before hitting send, her stomach twisting with the uncertainty of what came next.

On the other end, Harry stared at his phone, his heart sinking as he read her reply. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no either. It was something in between, something that left him in limbo, waiting for an answer he wasn’t sure would ever come.

He sat there in the silence of his apartment, the city outside moving on as it always did. He wanted to see her again, wanted to finish what they’d started, not just with the music, but with whatever had been building between them all those months. But he knew he couldn’t push her. YN was careful, guarded, and he had learned that the hard way. She had her reasons for keeping her distance, reasons she had never fully shared with him.

But still, he hoped. Hoped that maybe, just maybe, she’d come back. That maybe, for once, she’d take a chance.

And so he waited, the phone resting in his lap, the weight of the unsaid words heavy in the room around him.

The days passed slowly after that, each one blending into the next as Harry focused on finishing the album. He threw himself into the work, pouring all of his energy into the final tracks, refining the sound, changing some lyrics, adding new elements.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. The songs were good—great, even—but without YN’s input, without her presence in the studio, it all felt a little hollow. He missed her—missed her laugh, missed the way she’d furrow her brow when she was deep in thought, missed the way she made him feel like he didn’t have to be Harry Styles all the time. With her, he was just Harry. And that was enough.

He loved her.

He hadn’t heard from her since that night. No messages, no calls. It was like she had disappeared all over again, slipping out of his life as quietly as she had entered it.

It was November sixteenth when his phone buzzed again, a message lighting up the screen. The sky was dull, a harsh breeze whipping around the branches of trees—gearing up for a downpour. His heart raced as he saw her name, his fingers fumbling to unlock the phone.

Yn: you’re in ny still?

Harry’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t expected to hear from her again, not after weeks of silence.

h: Still here. Why?

There was a long pause before her next message came through.

Yn: i’ve been thinking about you

It was as if the system his body needed to stay alive had paused, his mind racing with possibilities. He couldn’t believe it—after all this time, she was finally considering it.

h: If you ever feel ready, I’m right where you left me.

Another pause.

Yn: it was ever just about the album h

Her message hit him like a punch to the chest, the weight of it settling in slowly. He had known—of course, he had known—but seeing it there, written out in front of him, made it all the more real.

Harry stared at the message for a long time, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as he tried to find the right words. But what could he say? He felt the same way, had felt it for months, but he hadn’t known how to tell her.

He attempted to, the day she left, cried even. But she walked away before he had the chance to continue.

h: I know.

It was simple, but it was true. He did know. He had known all along.

Yn: are you still recording at the same studio?

Harry’s heart leapt at her words, a surge of hope flooding through him.

h: Yeah, actually here right now. Brainstorming by myself for a bit.

Yn: buzz me in. i’m outside

Harry blinked, rereading the message a few times, the tips of his fingers all pins and needles

Outside.

She was there—outside, in the cold, waiting. Without thinking, he shot out of his chair, the legs scraping the studio floor with a harsh screech. His phone almost slipped from his hand as he fumbled to send her a quick reply. His movements were so frantic he had forgotten to press send.

He grabbed his jacket, threw it over his shoulders, and bolted for the door, his mind racing. She was here.

He wondered if he should slow down, would it be weird to greet her breathless at the door?

He rolled his eyes at himself. stop overthinking.

The hallway lights flickered slightly as he made his way down the corridor, his steps fast. He wasn’t sure what he would say, wasn’t sure what she would say, but none of that mattered. All he knew was that she was here, and that was enough for him right now.

When he finally reached the front entrance, he paused for a moment, his hand hovering over the buzzer. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the rush of emotions bubbling inside him. There was a weight to this moment—something bigger than just a simple reunion. He could feel it, like the air had thickened with all the unsaid words between them.

He pressed the button.

A soft buzz echoed through the small space, followed by the familiar click of the door unlocking. Harry pulled it open, stepping out into the crisp November air. The wind whipped around him, biting at his skin, but it didn’t matter because there she was.

YN stood a few feet away, her hands tucked into the pockets of her coat, her hair tousled by the wind. Her face was partially shadowed in the dingy light from the streetlamps, but he could still see her eyes—those same eyes that had watched him in the studio all those months ago, the ones that saw more than most people ever did.

The eyes of a girl he fell so pathetically in love with.

They stood there for a moment, staring at each other in the cold, neither of them moving. It was like time had paused again, just as it had so many times before when they were alone in the studio, surrounded by music but drowning in something deeper. Harry’s breath caught in his throat, unsure how to break the silence.

Finally, YN spoke, her voice quiet but steady, cheeks flushed from both her deepening blush and the cold. “Hi, Harry.”

The sound of her voice hit him like a wave, familiar and comforting, and all the tension he’d been holding onto seemed to unravel at once. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and smiled, though his heart was still racing. “Hi.”

It was such a simple exchange, but it felt like everything. For weeks, Harry had been caught in this strange limbo, not knowing if he’d see her again, not knowing if the distance between them was permanent. But here she was, standing right in front of him, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like things were finally shifting.

“It’s cold.” His voice is light, jutting his chin ever so slightly to the outside that existed around them. “Come in, please.”He felt unsure of how much to say, how much to push.

YN hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering toward the door behind him. She shifted on her feet, the wind catching the ends of her coat and lifting it slightly. For a second, Harry thought she might say no, that maybe she was having second thoughts. But then, she gave him a small nod, a barely-there smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Harry held the door open as she walked past him, the familiar warmth of the studio wrapping around them both as they stepped inside. It was quiet—just the two of them now, the usual noise of the team gone for the night. He led her down the hallway toward the control room, the sound of his heartbeat in his ears, thoughts spinning with everything he wanted to say but couldn’t quite figure out how to.

When they reached the room, Harry gestured toward the seat she’d always occupied—the one by the soundboard where she’d spent so many hours offering ideas, tweaking lyrics, helping him make a few songs what they were. YN paused for a second before sitting down, her hands resting in her lap as she glanced around the room.

“It feels the same.” Her laugh was breathy, a sadness to it. Her eyes lingered on the equipment, the scattered notes, the half-empty coffee cups that still littered the space. “Like nothing’s changed.”

Harry sat down across from her, his fingers brushing absently against the neck of the guitar that leaned against the chair. “Not much has.” He admitted, his voice quiet. “Except for you not being here.”

She looked at him then, searching his face, and Harry felt that familiar pull—the one that had always drawn him to her, even when she’d kept herself at arm’s length. There was something in her gaze, something heavy with unsaid words, and he wondered if she could feel it too.

A beat had passed. “I missed this, she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I missed you, H.

His cheeks felt hot, the words landing between them like a confession. He swallowed, his chest tightening with the weight of everything he wanted to say in return.

“I missed you too.”Harry murmured, the truth of it echoing in every syllable. And for the first time in months, the silence between them didn’t feel so heavy. It felt like maybe, just maybe, things were starting to fall back into place. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.

She shifted on her feet, eyes falling to the floor. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was sincere, dripping with the guilt she’s battled for months. “I’m sorry for leaving you. I needed to take some time, figure things out.”

He nodded, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. He would’ve tried to look better if he knew he’d be seeing her today. “It hurt.”

She pulled her lips between her teeth, eyes glossed over as she nodded. She had to look away, not able to face him. She knew she had done to him the same thing she was so afraid of—she just left. It gutted her for a while, wanting to reach out and apologize. She had this anxious feeling he wouldn’t forgive her. Rightfully so.

But it’s Harry.

He ran his hand down his face, a swirl of emotions becoming a cyclone within him. He frowned, seeing how spaced she was—as if she wasn’t here. “You need to tell me what’s on your mind.”

His tone was a bit more straightforward than he originally intended, but it was the truth. She showed up asking to be buzzed in, he felt as if he shouldn’t be the one digging.

She shook her head, trying to blink away some of her tears. “Guilt, sorrow, you.”

He nodded, looking at her expectantly to finish. He wished she could say her feelings as fast as she could walk away from them, but she was trying at least, and it felt like a start.

She inhaled shakily, running her fingers through her hair as her lip continued to tremble. “Guilt for leaving you the same what I feared being left.” Her voice had a tremor, her breaths a bit quicker. “Guilt for not saying sorry sooner. The pain of missing you—.” She whimpered, the same as Harry did the day she left.

“The guilt and sorrow will fade.” Harry murmured, his heart aching at the sight of her tears. “Y’just to work through it, don’t ignore it.”

YN wiped her cheeks, fingers shaking as she tried to regulate her breathing.. “And you?” Her voice was small, fragile, afraid of the answer.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Me?”

“Have I lost you?”

He frowned, the words caught in his throat. The question felt like it knocked the air from his lungs, and for a moment he didn’t know how to respond. The silence stretched between them, unbearable. He let his shoulders falter, “I love you, YN.”

The words hung between them, raw and unfiltered. It was stripped of all pretense, just the truth he carried with him for months. He watched her for any sort of reaction, and she just kind of stood there. He wondered for a moment if he even said anything, if it was just loud in his head but he actually had just left her hanging. “I love you.” He repeated, just in case.

"I–” She tried to speak, but her voice cracked.

She swallowed hard, tears still clinging to her lashes as she searched his face. The pain, the guilt, the regret—it was all still there, but beneath it, there was something else, something softer. Something she had kept hidden for so long, she wasn't sure how to let it out. “You do?”

He nodded, remaining vulnerable. He had no clue if she would reciprocate, or if she’d just walk away if met with the familiar fear. “Think I always have.”

For the first time, it didn't feel like there was a barrier. It felt like something was breaking, something that had been keeping them apart for far too long.

Without thinking, she reached for him, her fingers brushing against his arm, tentative at first, but then firmer as she closed the distance between them. He didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close. She melted into him, her face pressed against his chest as the tears flowed freely now, the weight of months of separation, guilt, and pain finally slipping away.

Harry held her tightly, his chin resting on top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair, the warmth of her body against his. This was what he had been missing—this. Not just the music, not just the friendship. It was her. All of her.

"I love you," he whispered again, the words soft and full of promise. "I’m here."

It was them, just them—like she’d never left.

#harry edward styles #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles concept #hs1 #2016 harry #lhh #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #one direction #one direction smut #one direction imagine

1K notes · View notes

vorfreudevortex · 4 months ago

Text

apologies

✧.* gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna, yuji, megumi, noritoshi, ino, inumaki, yuta

notes: a somewhat happier resolution and part two of arguments! thank you for reading <3

✧.* check out the fun facts after the attachments for background info about their fights and a look inside my brain hehe!

my masterlist

satoru cried in his office when he realized that he blamed you for something that wasn't your fault.

suguru's coworker sat on his lap as part of a weird inside joke everyone else at the school has between the two. he has no idea why he was so defensive to you and he truly wasn't cheating. he was so angry that you would believe he cheated that he started calling you out for the first thing he could think of, wearing revealing tops in public. satoru had to call you 8 times before you picked up and let him explain it to you. he's forcing her to transfer to kyoto so she never has the chance to hurt your relationship again (remember that suguru never left and became a teacher alongside satoru in my aus). the pictures sent to the reader leave out how suguru uncomfortably asked her to get off of him shortly after, since they were around other sorcerers and teachers (as politely as he could).

kento came home with so many flowers for you and he still feels awful.

toji's dumbass freaked tf out when you took home your clothes from his place. he was out drinking and gambling and didn't want to tell you. your relationship is rocky for a while but he hasn't gambled since.

choso is still learning communication skills and cried when he realized that he was being mean to you over nothing.

sukuna is a terrible texter and does NOT communicate his feelings well. this is him being vulnerable af with you because he really does love you and has no idea why he was grabbing another girl's ass at the bar. he tried to chase you down after you threw a drink on him, slapped and yelled at him, and ran out.

yuji completely panicked when a curse attacked him out of nowhere when he was out with you. you can't see them and you were so confused and scared that you couldn't move. he just cares about you so much and couldn't stand the fact that you could've died. he made megumi listen to him cry about how mean he was to you for like 3 straight hours.

megumi has no idea how to deal with his emotions and has never been in a relationship before so he literally thought you guys were broken up LMAO. he's trying really hard for you.

in my au toge can speak, just not direct commands, so he still rarely talks unless necessary. i thought it would be nice to have the reader understand that all of his communication skills are terrible and help him work on them.

noritoshi has a terrible outlook on love and relationships from his upbringing so it took him a minute to understand how awful his words were. he truly does love you and wants to marry you. he lowkey constantly thinks about cutting off the kamo clan so they can't control his life anymore.

ino literally cried to nanami after your argument. he's so used to putting jujutsu responsibilities before his own life and feelings, and struggles with having to take care of something that can't be fixed with his power or strength. nanami also called you and apologized for meddling in your relationship, he realized it was inappropriate but he just really cares about you and ino and wants the best for both of you.

yuta literally didn't even realize how insane and controlling he was being until you called him out. after he took you home, he latched onto you with his head crammed in your lap because he was so upset thinking that you might leave him. he swears to himself that he will kill himself before he treats you like that again, and he never does it again.

i don't like when big argument smaus end with "no biggie i forgive you! <3" so i tried to make sure that the reader either made sure they know they fucked up big time, apologized and talked to them face-to-face, they'd never do it again, or you wouldn't forgive them so easily, etc.

sorry this was so long! but i love knowing the background info and author's thoughts for smaus since they can be kind of limiting in content! i think i'll add background info and fun facts after all my future smaus for those who are interested. as always thank you so much for reading ♡

1K notes · View notes

henry7931 · 1 month ago

Text

Carter’s Body Is A Party

Dan:

Ahhh shit! I think I fucked up. The crazy thing is— this isn’t even my body. It belongs to this 21 year old kid name Carter. Kinda a long story but I basically talked him into switching bodies with me. Well okay, I know how that sounds! Let me correct myself we mutually agreed to the swap but I initiated it. You see I’m 39 years old, single, handsome I might add. But when I met Carter, I felt like I had a chance to really live carefree again.

We were in a bar when I first laid my eyes on Carter a couple weeks back. I was sitting alone, I frequent this bar a lot since it’s in walking distance to my place and he was sitting by himself as well… l kept noticing that he was staring at me which felt good. He’s a good looking young guy. He looked liked the kinda guy I’d beg for attention from at his age.

Eventually he came up to me and offered to get me a drink. I tried to turn him down but he was so persistent. After a while of him flirting with me really hard, I decided to let my guard down.

We talked for hours at that bar, taking shot after shot. I eventually invited him to come back to my place.

That is where I had the bright drunken idea of us swapping bodies.

“Carter, you are sooooo fine,” I said to him drunkenly. “I think I want to be you…let’s swap bodies!! It would be sooo hot!”

He didn’t believe me at first but then I pulled out a magical ring that’s been passed down through my family.

We started to make out a bit and we both ended up stripping off all of our clothes down to our underwear.

I look at Carter’s young face… he said to me, “fuck, I hope this is real. I wanna be able to touch your body every morning.”

My dick got hard at the thought of being able to do the same in his. Carter ran his fingers through my chest hair and says, “you’re such a fine ass man Dan. I’d do anything…”

“Fuck well I’m about to make both of our dreams come true. You ready?,” I say putting on the ring.

“Fuck yeah!”

As I slid on the ring, I said his name aloud. I just a split second both of us passed out.

As I started to come too, I immediately knew I was Carter. I sat up and saw Carter filling up my chest.

I thought he would be freaked out. Instead he seemed so amazed.

I watch him navigate slowly with my hands… touching my chest, my nipples…

He worked his way down until eyes met my dick which was about to pop out of my underwear at any moment

“can I?,” he said with the softest tone.

“It’s your body right now.”

Carter pulled out my dick and began to fondle it in front of me.

I was so turned by his excitement about having my body. I got up and immediately started sucking my body off.

Carter watched me work my own cock for him. I felt my bigger hands run through Carter’s hair.

And I felt him pull back and grab his chin.

“Dan, let’s get in bed.”

I pull off his underwear and saw all of Carter’s naked body for the first time. His cock was long and eager. His pubes were trimmed down (unlike mine) and he had these cute tight balls.

Carter felt up and down his junk for me.

“Does your hands feel good on my cock?,” he says to me with a grin.

“Yeah it does,” I say back to him.

I look down at Carter’s legs and then at his sexy boyish feet.

That’s when Carter began to run my tongue up and down his shaft. I could feel my stubble glide across his ballsack.

“Fuck, I can tell this is going to be a long night!,” I say to him.

Carter and I fucked around for hours. We would take turns edging each other and showing one another how each other’s bodies respond. Neither one of us wanted to cum.

But I was the first one to blow my load. And he came shortly after me.

Both of us laid in bed licking cum off of each other. Shortly after I felt my naked body wrap its arms around me and we cuddled off to sleep.

By morning, we made an agreement. We keep each other’s bodies until one of us says we’re ready to swap back.

Listen, I knew I was going to go back to my life and my body at some point. I was just not prepared for the wild ride of Carter’s life.

I soon found out that was a college student who parties a lot!

I mean the schedule was already made for me. I’d go to his class which was a surprisingly easy for me. And then his friend sends in a text…

“A total rager is going down tonight boys!”

“Who wants to go out and hit the bars?”

“House party at my place tonight!”

It was nonstop and I couldn’t get enough of it.

It took me no time to get to know his friends but I do think it’s because I’m the best looking in the crew and I’m confident several want to get into my pants.

Which I may have let a few of them do so…

Although, they have noticed a difference in me. Which is that I have zero fear of showing off myself, especially this body.

Most nights I’d even refuse to wear a shirt!

I went from constant hook ups, hard core clubbing…

But then we went to a concert and I may have taken it too far…

All of us were having a good time when I came across this handsome guy.

“Sup! My names Carter,” I said to him with a grin.

“Hey, you’re cute. You wanna make out?,” said the handsome stranger.

“Fuck yeah!”

This guy and I made out for a while at the concert. Neither of us gave a fuck about anyone around us.

That’s when I felt him unbuckle my pants…

All I could think of in the back of my head was… am I really about to get my dick sucked out in the open at a concert???

Before I could even think, Carter’s dick was out of his pants and this guy was on his knees.

“Holy shit Carter!” I hear one of his friends say in the background.

The guy sucking me off was sooo good at it. I couldn’t even think straight.

“Dude! Carter!! The police!!!”

The second I came down this guy’s throat, the police came up and caught us red handed.

Luckily, I didn’t get charged with anything. But they did take me to jail along with the other guy.

We both sat quietly the entire ride.

And when they put us in a cell both of us sat awkwardly.

All I could say in that moment was, “man I messed up.”

The guy looked over at me nervously, “I did too Dan.”

It took me a second to register him using my real name.

“Carter?”

“Yeah it’s me…”

“What the fuck??!? Where is my body???”

“Well with this guy… I don’t know. It was a really dumb idea. He came over to your place. I showed him the ring and then the next morning I couldn’t find him in your body. Plus he stole your ring!”

“CARTER!!!”

“I’m sorry!!!”

I watched as the other handsome 20 something, cried his eyes out. I wanted to be so mad at him. But then I remembered just how foolish I’ve been in his body.

Shortly after one of Carter’s friends posted my bail and I ended up doing the same for the actual Carter.

Weeks passed while Carter and I tried our hardest to find my body. But unfortunately we had no luck. Carter and I eventually grew a fondness for each other.

I graduated college the following spring and Carter got a nice job with his body. It helped that the stranger that took my body was already somewhat successful in life.

Both of managed to get a nice place together. Although life seems kind of boring now, we do frequent a club on an occasion.

#body swap #male body swap #body theft #male tf

656 notes · View notes

sethsclearwater · 6 months ago

Text

synopsis: paul and reader are in a long-term relationship following him imprinting on reader. paul discovers embry has been fantasizing about reader, reader has a little crush on him too, and paul has a kink for watching. definitely could be the beginning of the infamous poly!paulxreaderxembry relationship but there’s no mention of embry imprinting on reader

warnings: smut, dom!paul, dom!embry, sub!reader, pre-established boundaries/consent

word count: 5.22k

…

shortly after paul had phased while embry was in the middle of fantasizing about you on patrol, an idea popped into his head. although he was most definitely beyond pissed at first to find out embry had been harboring some ridiculously lewd thoughts about you in his head for months now, he couldn’t help the part of his brain that was working overtime to convince him how hot it would be to watch the two of you go at it just once.

so, despite the fact that he’d quite literally just witnessed embry’s fantasy of your pretty little legs wrapped around his shoulders while he pounded into you, he decided it could be quite an interesting scene to watch.

in his mind, it worked out perfectly. he knew embry needed to blow off some steam and you seemed to be the perfect person for him to take it out on, he also knew you were a little more than interested in embry (though it took him pushing you pretty deep into the subspace for you to finally admit it), and he knew himself well enough to know just how ridiculously hot he’d find it to watch you two go at it knowing the only reason you two could was because he gave you permission to do it.

was he a bit of a control freak? absolutely. was he confident you’d drop your obsession with embry once you finally could have him once? not entirely - but he wasn’t particularly concerned with that seeing as you were beyond attached to paul and he wasn’t really concerned with you leaving him for embry anytime soon thanks to the imprint bond.

although he once loathed the thought of the imprint bond, after realizing how it affected you nearly as much as it did him, he was starting to thank his lucky stars you two were bound together by some impenetrable supernatural force.

so, after mulling it over in his head for a few days, he approached embry about the idea. embry nearly choked on the muffin he was currently snacking on at paul’s proposition - fully convinced paul was just fucking with him and was definitely about to beat his ass if he even so much as thought about agreeing.

fortunately for embry, paul didn’t seem too interested in drawing out embry’s suffering, quickly offering an explanation for what he expected from embry and what his rules were for fucking you for the night. (to embry’s surprise, there weren’t nearly as many as he’d expected. from what he understood, paul mainly just explained to him how you needed someone to guide you through everything and what would happen if/when he managed to push you into the subspace and how he should be handling you.

so, with a hesitant agreement thanks to embry’s suspicions about paul’s motives for the whole thing, paul was heading back to your shared house to get you ready for embry’s arrival.

“princess,” paul called softly as he stepped into your apartment, closing the door behind him as he kicked his shoes off and set his keys and wallet on the console.

“‘m in the bathroom!” you called back, wrapping a towel around your freshly showered figure so you could step into the hallway and look for your imprinter. it only took him a moment to step into the hallway, smiling when he saw you, “jus’ gotta brush my hair and then i’ll come out,” you reassured, smiling as he stepped even closer to you, his gaze softening as he took you in.

you stepped back into the door, giggling when he slid his hands over your towel-covered hips as he pressed himself against you. he closed his eyes as he sucked in a breath and you weren’t entirely sure if he was smelling you or just taking a moment. you didn’t have much time to figure it out because he opened his eyes a second later, “let me do it, yea?” he suggested, giving your hips a gentle squeeze which had you giggling and nodding, happy to have him brush your hair for you.

“go lay down on the bed and i’ll be there in a minute,” his voice lowered at the order and his lips just barely brushed against your ear, “and take the towel off, yea? wanna see you.” the dominance in his voice immediately sent your hormones in about 50 different directions as your brain short-circuited for a moment.

despite your brain freeze, you were quick to nod, pupils dilating as you looked up at paul who just let out a breathy laugh before he was spinning you around and teasingly smacking your ass to send you on your way to the bedroom.

you weren’t entirely sure how you managed to walk to the bedroom with all the butterflies in your belly but you were thanking god you did as you dropped the towel, leaving you totally nude as you sat down on the edge of the bed.

paul was nothing if not a man of his word, coming into the bedroom no longer wearing a t-shirt as he now only wore a pair of dangerously low-hanging gray sweatpants. you were shamelessly ogling him as he paused for a moment, apparently deciding to do the same thing to you as his gaze drifted from your toes all the way up until his gaze met yours, “look so pretty when you’ve got nothing on,” he complimented as your cheeks flamed up to a deep shade of pink at the comment.

he just playfully rolled his eyes at your blush, coming to sit down on the bed so he could lean back against the headboard, “c’mere,” he murmured, hooking his hands under your arms so he could tug you back and in between his legs.

you let out a heavy sigh of contentment as you relaxed back into his chest, more than grateful for the added warmth, “you trust me, don’t you?” paul asked once he felt you settle down in his arms, picking up the brush so he could slowly start working it through your hair as he waited for your response.

his question caught you a bit off guard but you nodded none-the-less, “course i do,” you whispered, peeking over your shoulder to look up at him. paul made a sound of approval before pressing his lips to your forehead.

while one hand continued gently brushing through your hair, his other trailed down your abdomen, dancing along the insides of your bare thighs but not touching any of your most sensitive parts. your brain was working overtime to try and figure out where he was going with this, the confusion of his words coupled with his gentle touches leaving you absolutely clueless.

“and you know i’d never put you in a situation where i know you’d get hurt?” he followed up, his features not changing as you frowned, not entirely sure where he was going with his line of questioning. while you struggled to figure out what to say to him, his free pointer and middle fingers gently parted your slickening folds for him.

you let out a low whine as the cold air hit your hyper-exposed cunt, moving to close your legs but paul beat you to it, dropping the brush so he could slide his other hand down your side to hold your thigh open, “answer me princess,” he reminded, halting his movements entirely as he waited for your response.

figuring he’d tell you soon enough, you settled for nodding again, “mhm,” you hummed, brows creasing in worry as you tried to figure out what he was trying to get at.

“‘s nothing bad,” paul reassured after a moment, letting out a breathy laugh that had you releasing a breath you weren’t even aware you’d been holding. in combination with your exhale, paul dipped his pointer finger into your little entrance, barely containing his laugh as you immediately went lax in his arms, letting out a loud whimper. “let me make you feel good, yea? just wanna try something new with you tonight,” he mused, smiling as you gave him a small nod and settled for burying your face in the crook of his neck, your breaths short as he gently pumped one finger in and out of your heat.

before you could even begin to focus on your need for an orgasm, paul continued, “embry’s gonna come over tonight,” he explained, pressing his lips to your hair to muffle his chuckle as he felt your velvet walls immediately clamp down on his fingers. he almost thought you were tensing up but when he felt your walls begin to coat his fingers, he knew you were definitely turned on by the idea.

you peeked up at him, unsure of what exactly he meant but you knew that paul knew just how much you’d been crushing on embry recently so you were mentally praying he’d be letting embry have his way with you just for the night, “‘m gonna tie you up and you’re gonna show him how good you are for him, yea?” he asked, his thumb dropping to gently slowly roll back the hood protecting your clit before he was pressing down on the sensitive nub.

you let out a low whine, breath catching as you tried to figure out what exactly what was going on. paul wasn’t exactly known for sharing so you were beyond confused what had convinced him to loan you out to his friend for the night but you couldn’t help the way your walls were desperately fluttering around paul’s finger as you thought of embry coming over for the night.

you gave him a slow nod and paul just smiled, starting to rub slow, tight circles against your clit as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips, “i’m gonna watch and make sure you’re being good for him,” he murmured, parting his lips from your just enough to speak, “and he knows your safe word too and you know to use them if you need them. i know he’s gonna make you feel good though,” he reassured, smiling when he watched your wide eyes taking in everything he was saying.

you let out a hot and heavy sigh when he added a second finger to your heat, slowly scissoring them apart as he continued to toy with the nub between your thighs, “and you’re gonna listen to him and do what he tells you to do, yea?” he asked, pausing his movements for a moment when you didn’t immediately respond to him.

at the pause, you quickly nodded, “promise i’ll be good for him,” you blurted out, now desperate for him to continue his movements. paul let out another breathy laugh, resuming his slow curling of his fingers while he rolled your clit.

“that’s my girl,” paul praised, pressing his lips to your slowly drying hair to hide his smile as he felt your body’s immediate reaction to his praise. he pressed down on your clit one more time before withdrawing his fingers from your pussy, rolling his eyes when you immediately looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“gotta tie you up princess,” he reminded, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before he was getting up and helping you lay down on the bed so he could tie you up for embry’s highly anticipated arrival.

the butterflies in your belly were going wild as you watched paul pull your legs apart, tying one to each bedpost to keep you wide open for embry, “you promise this is real?” you whispered when paul came up to the top of the bed to tie your hands together.

he laughed softly as he got your hands tied to the bedboard, “promise it’s real princess,” he reassured, “now let me go let embry in, yea?” he asked, doing a rather poor job of hiding his smirk when he saw how excited and nervous you were for your crush’s arrival.

you nodded, letting out an exhale when paul leaned down to press a quick kiss to your forehead before he was getting up and heading out to presumably go let embry in. with his absence, your thoughts began racing and you quickly reminded yourself of how comfortable you and embry were with each other.

you knew he’d definitely seen you naked before just due to paul’s complete refusal to stop thinking about you during his patrol shifts but couldn’t help the way your mind was running with thoughts of what he’d think about you now that he actually had the chance to be with you himself.

before you could get too deep into the depths of your anxious thoughts, paul and the man of the hour appeared, “holy shit-” any breath left in embry’s lungs immediately left when he landed his eyes on your naked, helplessly bound figure.

“sexy, isn’t she?” paul mused with a cocky smile as he went to sit down on the chair at the corner of the bed he’d insisted the two of you add to the bedroom when he discovered just how much he enjoyed watching you touch yourself.

embry struggled to recompose himself, tearing his eyes from your dripping cunt to slowly run them up your figure, pausing again when he eyed your breasts, your nipples peeking up from your hyper-aroused state. the intensity of his gaze had you suddenly feeling a bit self-conscience and then you realized why paul had tied you up - so you had no chance of covering yourself.

“yea…” embry’s voice trailed off as his gaze continued up until he met yours, “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, the two of you holding gazes for a moment as you both realized just how much you wanted this. before embry could get too lost in your eyes, he looked over to paul, “you’re sure you’re okay with this?” he asked as he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side. paul rolled his eyes, clearly a bit fed up with both you and embry being so apprehensive about the whole thing.

“positive. now go fuck her - she needs to get it out of her system,” he ordered, relaxing back into the chair, leaning back in a confident yet positively sexy position as he prepared to watch embry rail you.

embry hummed and nodded, turning his attention back to you as he tugged his sweatpants and boxers down, kicking them to the side. you sucked in a breath when you saw his naked figure, watching as his cock stood to attention against his abdomen, the tip already leaking pre-cum.

he smiled to himself, a rush of confidence hitting him when he realized you were the one watching him drunkenly, “‘m comin’ pretty thing,” he mused, smiling as he climbed onto the bed and got himself situated between your legs, his smile widening when he heard your giggles fill the air - quickly dissolving any tension left in the room.

“so i heard you like it rough,” he mused as he grabbed the bottle of lube paul had graciously left out on the side table, pumping some into his hand before he was tossing the bottle to the side and lathering his cock with it.

you blushed at his words, watching as he pumped his cock to coat himself with the lube, “mhm,” you murmured, more focused on his actions than anything at the moment. embry chuckled at your response, gently releasing his cock in favor of gently parting your folds with his fingers so he could slip his pointer finger inside you.

a soft gasp left your lips at the intrusion, “she’s stretched out,” paul reassured when he recognized what embry was doing, happy to know embry would be taking as good care of you as paul expected him to.

embry just flashed paul a quick smile over his shoulder before he was turning his attention back to you, gently pulling his finger out of your hole and replacing it with the head of his cock, “you let me know if i’m being too rough with you, yea?” he asked, waiting for you to nod before he was pushing his hips into yours, his cock immediately splitting your pussy open to stretch for him.

“em-” you whimpered, tugging at the restraints binding your hands as you struggled to process the pain of stretching for him alongside the delicious pleasure of being so full with your fiance’s friend’s cock. embry didn’t stop until he was fully seated inside you, his balls hanging low and heavy as they brushed against your ass.

“you know how good your pussy feels right now?” he asked breathlessly, barely hanging on as he felt your walls fluttering around him like crazy as you adjusted to the stretch, “i know why paul won’t shut up about you now,” he added as you let out a giggle, blushing like a mad woman underneath him.

embry smiled at you again and sucked in a breath to compose himself, only pausing for another moment before he was pulling his hips back and plunging back into your heat, immediately setting an unforgivingly fast pace. loud moans were quick to escape both of your lips, the two of you suddenly realizing just how desperate you both were to cum and make the other one feel just as good.

while you writhed against the restraints pinning you down, embry continued his assault on your cunt, taking his non-supporting hand to settle in between your legs and begin to toy with your clit. at the first touch, you were whining and bucking your hips up for more friction, forcing embry’s cock to kiss your cervix. the combination of sensations sent your brain into a tizzy and embry suddenly seemed hell bent on repeatedly feeling your cervix against the head of his cock, “holy fuck-” he groaned, quickening his thrusts as he began slamming himself into your pussy as hard as he could without breaking you, both of you feral to just finally cum on each other.

“embry please oh my god-” you whined, voice catching when he rolled your clit between his fingers and had you teetering right on the edge of an orgasm, the only thing holding you back was paul’s repeated conditioning for you not to cum until he let you.

as if he read your mind, paul spoke up in a voice much calmed than yours and embry’s, “she’s not gonna cum until you tell her she can,” he added, winking at you when you dropped your head to the side to look at him. the look alone had you groaning, eyes welling with tears as you realized not cumming on embry’s cock was proving to be much more difficult than you thought it would be.

“fuck you’re so good,” embry groaned, “cum on my cock,” his voice was breathless as he pounded into you. with a rather rough pinch to your clit, you came hard. the tsunami building up in your belly finally exploded as your world burst into a thousand different colors. you weren’t entirely sure you’d ever came that hard with anyone but paul before and that realization sent a whole other wave of pleasure crashing through your system.

as you collapsed back into the bed and let your orgasm wash over you, embry’s pace quickened, chasing his own orgasm. it didn’t take long, your walls throbbing around his cock had his balls tightening to a nearly painful level before he finally met his release, coating your swollen pussy in his marking.

ragged breaths left his lips as he slowed his thrusts, both of you lost in the post-orgasmic haze as you came back to earth. embry let out a heavy exhale allowing his hips to fall into yours, keeping himself buried inside you while he reached up with his free hand to gently undo the restraints binding your hands together.

as soon as your hands were free, you immediately wrapped your arms around him, holding him close to you. paul seemed to understand what embry wanted and got up to help get your legs untied as well, chuckling when he watched as you immediately tangled your legs around his waist, “you feel so good,” embry whispered, wrapping his non-supporting hand around you to hug you tightly against him.

you let out a quiet, breathy laugh at his comment, hardly containing the energy to even respond to the boy as you processed everything coursing through your system, “think you can get on your hands and knees for me?” he asked after a moment, pressing his lips to your collarbone before he was lifting his head to get a better read of your expression.

your eyes widened at his proposition, shocked that he was able to go for another round. you quickly nodded, looking over to paul who just let out a breathy laugh, “on your hands and knees princess,” he gently ordered, a smirk covering his features when he watched your gaze drop down to the tent clearly bulging in his sweatpants, “you’re taking care of embry right now, i’ll take you later,” he reminded and you nodded, just eager to please both boys as you turned your attention back to embry.

“i’ll help you,” embry murmured, arms flexing as he got himself up and slowly pulled his hardening cock out of your pussy, a shocking amount of cum dripping out of your puffy hole as he helped you roll over and got onto your hands and knees, “try going onto your forearms for me,” embry murmured when he realized you might definitely want to rest for a moment while he got you two ready for round two.

more than happy to comply, you dropped down to your forearms and rested your cheek against your arms so you could watch paul while embry pumped himself a few times to ensure he was hard enough to enter you, “you’re doing great princess,” paul reassured, “should see how hot your pussy looks when he’s stretching you out,” he mused, smiling when you immediately blushed and turned your head so he didn’t see the rosy tint covering your cheeks.

he just rolled his eyes, not totally sure why you were so easily flustered even when his friend’s cum was dripping down your thighs while you waited to be impaled by him for the second time that night. as if on queue, embry’s manhood was pressing against your entrance, allowing you a moment to prepare before he was sheathing himself in you in one quick thrust.

you let out a loud gasp at the intrusion, fingers tightening into fists against the bedsheets as you desperately looked for something to cling to. embry didn’t give you much breathing room as he snapped his hips against yours, hands tightening against your hips for leverage as he worked to fuck you as hard as he could.

just as you finally thought you’d regained a tiny bit of control, one of embry’s hands were sliding into your hair to pull you up to his chest. the change in angle allowed him to hit an even deeper part of you and you both let out loud moans, “your pussy is fuckin’ heaven,” he groaned, “gonna cum in that pretty little pussy again, yea? think you can take my cock filling you up with my cum, pretty thing?” he asked breathlessly, sliding his free hand around to grope at your breasts.

you let out a loud whine at the roughness of his thrusts in combination with his dirty words, your brain struggling to comprehend why on earth you found him cumming in you so hot. whether it was the taboo nature of it or the way it made you feel so sexy - you weren’t entirely sure but you knew you loved it too much to have him stop anytime soon.

“mhm-” you whimpered, a loud moan of pleasure leaving your lips as embry pinched your nipple between his fingers. paul’s chuckle echoed through your ears as he watched you cum undone on embry’s cock.

before you knew it, your second orgasm was rapidly approaching and you weren’t entirely sure you’d even stay conscious when it finally hit you as you felt how strong and fast it was approaching. embry was clearly good at reading your body and, when he felt the way your pussy somehow managed to tighten even more around him, he realized you’d definitely be cumming again shortly and the thought had him desperately chasing his own orgasm as his thrusts picked up the pace and harshness.

“let me feel you cum on my cock again,” embry ordered, voice tightening as his cock threatened to explode with another release before you met your orgasm, “cum on my cock pretty thing,” although it was a demand (and one that you received quite well) the desperation in his voice was clear as he tried to fight off his own orgasm.

he tightened his grip in your hair and rolled your nipple between his finger, the actions combined with the way he was impaling your pussy with his cock had you surrendering to him as a kaleidoscope of colors exploded in your mind.

embry held you up, the first throb of your pussy around him sending him to his own orgasm as he shot his release into your channel yet again. both of you were panting, sweating messes as you worked through your orgasms.

not wanting to part from you just yet, embry helped you lay down with him, still keeping himself tightly wedged inside you as his cum slowed to a trickle inside you, “taking me so well,” embry praised breathlessly, running his hand up and down your bare side while both boys waited for you to come back to them, “such a good girl,” he murmured, peppering your hair and temple with gentle kisses.

as you came back, your eyes fluttered open to meet paul’s who was watching you with a rather intense gaze - seeming quite interested in watching how hard you just came. you offered him a lazy smile before peeking over your shoulder to see embry who reciprocated your expression.

“that was so much better than i thought,” embry mused breathlessly, both of you letting out quiet laughs at his comment, “let me get you cleaned up, yea?” he asked and you frowned, looking over to paul who just rolled his eyes again, a teasing smile on his face.

“you’re way too swollen down there to go at it with him again,” he explained, glancing down to your abused cunt almost to check he was right before his gave came back up to yours, “you can have him for your birthday if he wants to,” he added and you beamed at him before looking over at embry who just let out a breathy laugh.

“you can have me whenever pretty thing,” he reassured, “that was fuckin’ amazing,” he added with another laugh. you giggled, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before he gave your hip a squeeze and gently pulled himself out of your sore cunt and got up.

paul tossed him a rag to clean you up with and embry said a soft ‘thanks’ to him before turning back to you. as he pulled your legs apart, he let out a low groan when he saw just how wrecked you were, “want the camera?” paul asked teasingly, both boys laughing darkly when paul handed him the polaroid camera you often used in your rendezvous.

you blushed, offering a shy smile to embry who snapped a quick picture of you and your dripping pussy before he was setting the camera to the side to get you cleaned up, “you want some water?” embry asked as he got to work between your legs, gently wiping up all your combined fluids from your thighs before lightly swiping through your folds despite protests from you.

“drink,” paul encouraged, both boys pretty different to your whines of overstimulation as paul handed you your hydroflask to sip. with a pout on your face, you took a few sips, letting embry finish his cleanup job before he was pressing a rather cheeky kiss to your clit.

“embry!” you laughed, a smile on your face as he cheekily got out from in between your thighs to pull his clothes back on.

“shirt?” paul asked as he got up from his chair to help you get dressed. with your nod, he helped you into one of his old shirts and a new pair of panties for you as embry finished redressing himself.

paul pressed a quick kiss to your hair before he got up to go check his phone and you frowned when embry came to stand between your thighs, clearly getting ready to say goodnight. embry took your hands into his, offering you a small smile when he saw your frown, “thank you pretty thing,” he mused, taking your hands to his mouth to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

you frown deepened and he just chuckled, shaking his head, “i’ll see you tomorrow at emily’s for dinner, yea?” he asked and you reluctantly nodded, “and your birthday is in a few weeks anyway. plus you’ve got paul to keep you busy,” he added both of you laughing knowingly seeing how open paul was with everyone about his nearly insatiable sex drive.

with a soft sigh, you nodded, standing up to pull embry into a tight hug that he gladly returned. “i’ll see you tomorrow then pretty thing,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your hair with one final, tight squeeze before he released you just as paul came back in.

“all good princess?” paul asked, looking relieved when you looked over your shoulder to smile and nod.

taking his queue, embry gave you one more smile, “see you later pretty thing!” embry called as he strode out of the room.

“i’ll be right back,” paul reassured before following embry out to thank him and make sure he got out okay. within a few moments, paul was returning and his gaze softened when he saw your figure now curled up under the covers of your shared bed.

“was that good?” he asked, pulling back the covers just enough to crawl in with you and pull you into his chest.

you nodded, letting out a happy sigh as you looked up at him, “so good,” you whispered, pressing a quick kiss to his chest, “thank you,” you added, giggling when he squeezed you even closer to him and pressed a quick kiss to your temple.

“can i help you out now? i missed you,” you murmured, running your hand down his bare abdomen so you could gently tug at his sweatpants.

“oh i think you definitely can,” he laughed, rolling over so he could settle between your thighs and get to work.

833 notes · View notes

sunasbon · 8 months ago

Note

toji finding out we have a choking kink

TRYNA FREAK YOU DOWN .ᐟ ❞

୨୧ sum : toji finiding out you have a choking kink.

ઉ warnings : 18 + content, choking, mating press, overstim, slight mean toji , dumbflication etc, toji has a tounge piercing..🙂‍↕️

“. . filthy cunt suckin’ me in already . ?” toji kissed his teeth, having you laid against the mattress. your legs leant back behind your head trying to desperately hold yourself upright resting your calves onto his board shoulders, toes all curling up. the faint smirk spreads across his face as one his free hands latch onto the back of your thigh, steadily rocking his hips back and forth feeling the warmth of your walls greedily clasped around him, squeezing him in tight every single time — your fairly certain starting to think your going stupid on his dick, precisely what he wants.

“. .toji . .wait..!” you chewed onto your bottom lip whining feeling the length of his fat mushroom tip massaging your sopping pussy invitingly, thawing his hips up against your ass feeling your tummy flutter. your nails dragging upwards on the flat of his back feeling your vision fuzzy as the he shifts his body urging your legs folding squeezing against your chest, leaning his board body into yours pressing his chest into you. that arrogant smirk paints his face, his piercing gaze never faulted basking in your figure haulting his pace of hips—shortly he puffed out his chest, rolling his eyes sharply peering downward at you . “. . what little girl. . .? . .you that already dumb on my dick? . . or somethin’. your head resting to the side, exhaling a sharp breath rising and falling from your chest trying to muster up enough courage to ask him — the simple question on the tip your tongue swallows hastily biting the bullet of things.

“w-well . . could you . maybe..— um choke me .?” you finally mumbling off the words roll off your tongue smoothly. toji quirks a brow, the flat of his tongue licking a stripe up towards the side of your neck tasting your tingly skin, feeling the cool metal of the tongue piercing slightly brushing fairy over your feverish form — not enough to actually hurt you. your body quavering underneath his posing form, candid eye piercing into you — a raspy chuckle deep within his chest, he firmly let go one of your thigh, sliding his free hand toward your throat, squeezing it lightly.

“. mm . . wonder how tight.. y’er pussy gets with my hand around you like this . . ?” toji coos, continuing driving his hips into yours, feeling the familiar sensation in the deep pit of your tummy, you arched your back dragging your nails against his beefy forearms — jaw clenched tight as he felt the quaint sting form the starches of your nails, the clear sheen of sweat across his forehead pressing against yours as the friction of your nipples rasping against one another — his prominent hand, squeezing down on your throat.

the clear sheen of sweat across his forehead pressing against yours as the friction of your nipples rasping against one another - his prominent hand, squeezing down your throat. the warmth of your walls of your cunt gushing around him tittering you on edge — a glob of drool spills out the inner corner of your mouth. gaping open feeling your throat becoming parched, with the way his mushroom tip jerked against your form shifting his weight around, legs writhing as your muscles tightened, sucking him in by the minute. the sheer clear of your arousal coating at the base - you pressed a hand against your tummy, the bulge of his dick hitting into your sweet spot, your starting vision a hazy- a blisstul sight. "'. .toji!.s'close..shitshit..!"

“..yeah . . y’er pussy likes when i hit this spot doesn’t she. . .? the scent of musk and sweat waffling in the air, feeling your body arch upward into his body, the prolixity of skin slapping, his back muscle tenses up— a dry groan slipping from glossy his lips, feeling his balls tightening and draw up into a frenzy grasping your tightly ensuring you wouldn’t run —brows knitting together. “ that’s . . it want me to stuff this tight pussy . ? yeah? . .” toji hissed, the faint grin splayed across his face — your shut your eyes tightly clamping down onto his base, body shuddering out and jerking in his hold, dragging your hips against his pelvis, his body shuddering chest heaving up and down— feeling his hips slowing as you tensed up slowly against the mattress, basking in toji muscles tensing up, the white ring of his cum forming at the base —not pulling out of you just yet, the bed still creaking underneath the weight of you both, the legs of the leaning to side, snapping leaving just the mattress standing. “ . . fuck . . toj that was expensive . .!

“heh . . im not paying for it . .good luck.”

883 notes · View notes

sexlapis · 4 months ago

Text

[◉°] … TOJI AND Y/N BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT (PART 5) … 899k views

꩜ : actor!toji x gn!reader

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 (they are actress!reader)

sfw for the most part, fluff, crack, peeping toms & perverts (toji deals w them <3), cute babies, use of y/n

⤷ the way tojiyn is just real at this point…

a/n: thank you so much for 3000 followers that is literally crazy! thank you all sm for enjoying and supporting my fanfics🩷🩷. as a gift u all get more actor toji. i just missed him <33

_____= your name

masterlists

from the actor![character] series:

actor!toji masterlist

actor!nanami & actress!yn being a couple

actor!levi & gn!reader being a couple

꩜ first clip

posted on toji’s (mostly inactive) instagram, a clip of you with a little baby no more than a year old standing on your lap. you make funny, expressive faces as she giggles and mumbles in an adorable, pure manner. the pinnacle of innocence.

“look at that! who’s that, baby?” you ask the baby, referring to the person behind the camera.

you turn her around, making her look up. she points, her face beaming with a toothless smile.

“ahh!” she squeaks.

you giggle.“it’s toji!”

a huff is heard from behind the camera and a big hand comes and strokes the baby’s chubby cheeks. “hi princess.”

the clip ends there, but the reaction from the internet only begins.

@ynb11111gestfan

a baby??? wtf did i miss???!:!:!

@justalurkeracx0unt

YOU GUYS ADOPTED?????????

@gojosbl!ndfold

which one of you gave birth

@tojizbigfatbreederballzinmymouf

girldad toji? my biggest dreams have come true💕💕

⤷ @herbigdoeeyesss

YOUR NAME?????

it’s safe to say, everyone was confused about who this random baby was. so, you were the one to clear things up by posting a video on your story;

“i’m sorry for the confusion guys. yes, me and toji had a baby. toji had a very long labour and he worked so hard and gave birth to a little baby girl <3”

well, that cleared things up.

꩜ second clip

toji walks out of a elevator and is…carrying you in his arms. bridal style. with your bodyguards following close behind (not that you need bodyguards when toji is with you).

the man holding the camera asks toji, “why are you carrying them?”

instead, you respond with a shrug, “my feet hurt.”

toji doesn’t even react. he just walks down the corridor, carrying you like he does it every day.

꩜ third clip

shortly after you began filming for a minor role in a popular television series, there are rumours floating around of toji allegedly physically assaulting one of the members of staff on set.

of course, everyone has all kinds of theories of what happened, but many people are not surprised because, well…it’s toji. they are not shocked by this type of behaviour coming from him.

but then, all is revealed by TMZ in a short youtube video, being a oh so nosy individuals they are:

“we got leaked information about what happened on that set. apparently, the staff member had been secretly recording y/n in their caravan, even when they were getting dressed! disgusting, i know. it’s said that toji spotted them and ‘took’ matters into his own hands. and by that, i mean throwing hands. toji is now being accused of assault by said staff member. in my eyes,” the reporter throws his hands up, shrugging, “that freak got what was coming!”

after that, people are on toji’s side, praising him for what he did. but enough people believed his actions to be extreme and overly violent.

so he releases an apology for his actions in a video, in which it is very clear that he had just woken up and he was still in bed:

“hey everyone. i know just about everyone’s heard of what happened. i would just like everyone to know that…i don’t care,” he chuckles, “i really don’t give a shit. i would do it again if it had to. that piece of shit deserved what he got. i’m only sorry for not breaking his other arm.”

꩜ fourth clip

you and toji are on the red carpet in paris, being interviewed about an awards show and your time in the country.

“so, have you two seen any of the sights and attractions in paris?”

“uhhhmm, no not so much. we really wanted to but we’ve just been uhh, really, really-” you pause for a moment, a second too long as you look at toji, who is staring at you. even from this angle, toji is seen to be smirking and he winks at you.

you blink rapidly and turn back to the interviewer. “busy. yeah, we’ve been really busy.”

“that’s one way to put it.” toji chimes in.

a tojiyn truther favourite.

꩜ fifth clip

you and toji, wanting to raise money for charity, decided ti participate in the bake-off, a televised baking competition.

“okay!” you start, excited.

the excitement doesn’t last very long.

“what even is this [BLEEP]?”

“toji! don’t swear! they have to bleep that out!”

off you and toji go, baking in such a disorderly and chaotic fashion, even the other participants are looking at you sideways.

multiple bleeps are edited in due to toji’s creative language.

“phew!” you breathe out. “i think we’re making good time-”

“ten minutes left!” the host calls out.

“ten minutes!?” toji shouts.

“what? ten? we haven’t even started the buttercream yet! the cake hasn’t even cooled down! what!”

“move,” toji moves into your space, snatching the whisk and bowl of ingredients from you hands and begins stirring like an absolute mad man, “you cool off that [BLEEP] cake, i’ll make this! [BLEEP].”

you dash toward the window, plain cake in hand, and simply…stick the cake out of the window, hoping it will call down faster.

toji and you are stared at in complete and utter confusion.

after sloppily applying the buttercream to the cake, along with the toppings, you and toji are done just in time.

it is your time to present.

you and toji walk to the front, placing the cake in front of the hosts.

“hm,” the woman said, “presentation is messy.”

you and toji glance at each other.

they take a bite.

“oh,” the male judge hums, “not bad.”

“i think it’s quite tasty!” a judge with a british accent compliments. “well done to the both of you.

you and toji cheer silently and high five.

you both came in third place in that round.

go figure.

꩜ sixth clip

you and the cast members of “jujutsu kaisen” are at comic con for a fan Q&A. the place is packed full of fans!

“i…i have a ques-question for _____. I-” his voice cracks wildly and he clears his throat, causing a few giggles in the crowd.

he continues. “i-what-why-what-what do-how-” he sighs and covers his face with embarrassment.

a wave of laughter goes through the crowd, mocking the poor boy even further.

“it’s okay,” you coo to the fan, “i don’t bite.”

the audience laughs some more.

and the toji interrupts with his own comment of, “they sure do.”

you gasp. your head whips towards toji and the crowd erupts with laughter, whistles and hoots of teasing and encouragement.

the fan, now beet red, covers his face again. “oh my god.”

“great! toji look what you did!” you shout. “you broke him!”

a/n: new actor toji take it or leave it

#actor!toji #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro x gender neutral reader #toji fluff #toji fushiguro fluff

451 notes · View notes

bigwishes · 3 months ago

Note

Hope you're doing well. Just wanted to ask the genie for one wish... to swap bodies with my dumb sweaty bear of a roommate. We couldn't be more different, I'm a clean twink-ish comp sci major and I don't even know what he's majoring in cause all he does is eat, game, and work out. I complain about his lifestyle but secretly... I'm jealous. Jealous of how little he cares about grades or hygiene. Only caring about muscles and sports. I just want to know what it'd be like to be in his shoes for once even for a day. Then he'd be the one complaining to me about how much the house stinks and I'd be the one without a care in the world.

Took me a while to even see this one, but sure your wish is my command a big muscled sweaty bear who stinks? easy enough. first you start with your muscle mass, slowly pumping up, splitting through your shirt, growing more and more by the second, you can't help but flex and worship yourself as your muscles expand to freakish proportions.

its almost impossible for you to keep your hands off yourself as you moan in pleasure wanting more, to grow bigger, to get bigger,

soon a thick beard starts to grow from your jawline making you look like a beefed up lumberjack who works out non stop. A potent BO fills the room as your pits grow damp and start to stink, sweat drips down from them trailing your lats making you look like you just finished a workout.

You feel heavy trying to haul around your big muscular body, which doesnt help with the sweat, each step is an effort in itself causing you to sweat. You feel the fabric of your underwear strain and get wet around your groin and in between your ass as your body over produces sweat.

You begin to huff, each movement you perform leaving you out of breath. As you sit down the the couch to take a break you feel the cold wetness as the fabric absorbs your sweat.

A moment of peace passes as you try and catch your breath then your stomach growls. You do remember you wished to be a bear? six pack abs aren't very fitting.

You gut grows tight and you moan in pain as it growls, before long it starts to puff forward, looking bloated before shortly being covered in a layer of fat and hair.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPP

you belch without warning, the powerful smell of protein feels the room and you look down to see the new you.

Big and Bulky are the words that best describe you now. A giant bodybuilder covered in a winter layer of fat, a true muscle bear.

Suddenly your door swings open as your roommate walks in. You expected to see the beast you'd gotten used to living with but instead a clean cut jock walked through the door carrying a pizza, protein shake and a box of chocolate muffins. You threw them down on the coffee table in front of you.

"got you what you asked for dude" instantly without saying thanks, your dove for the food alternating between shoving multiple slices of pizza in your mouth and chugging the protein shake, the shake dripped down the side of your lips and ran onto your chest.

"god how do you live like this you freak"

Hearing his words made your ears perk up, but not enough for you to stop eating.

"you are such a fucking slob dude"

You dick suddenly became hard hearing him insult you.

"and your fucking reek, jesus christ, you eat like a monster, stink like 40 gyms combined and have such a grotesque amount of muscle on your body"

Instantly you blew your load into your underwear hearing him talking about how much of a fucking slob you are.

You'd never felt so turned on, being so big, being so hungry, being humiliated by such a hot guy.

you had forgotten you even made a wish to begin with, and were ready to spend your life as a beasty bear.

BUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP

#male transformation #muscle #muscle transformation #male tf #tf story #transformation #reality change #musk #gay transformation

491 notes · View notes

anisespice · 4 months ago

Text

“ hate your boyfriend ” || tokyo rev. pt. 3

one two

synopsis: “ just drop your boyfriend. ”

pairing: college!toman x gn!reader

warnings: mature language, sexual themes, MDI. toxic!toman, cheater!reader (pumpkin eater!!!), mikey and baji’s are fairly long, mitsuya’s short and sweet, not proof-read, mild mention of violence, mild angst (for the exes), and i think that’s it

notes: whew wasn’t sure where to take some of these, but i’m fairly satisfied with this conclusion for hate your boyfriend! thank you all for showing it love and i hope y’all enjoy! <333

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05, @neverlandlostchild , @darks-pet-shadow, @captaincyberqueen

The sun was the first to greet you as it peeked through your curtains.

Awaking with a soft groan and a stretch, you winced at the immediate ache in your muscles that answered instead of relief. You began to slowly sit up, hissing through your teeth as you did. Blinking groggily at your naked form, you could vaguely make out the bruises painted along your inner thighs. The longer you examined them, the more memories that came flooding in:

Your legs were high enough to nearly touch your shoulders, spread wide and unabashed with your back pressed into the mattress, fingers tangled in silky tresses that curtained over your hips like spilled ink while an experienced tongue fluent in your pleasure buried itself deep in your…

You remembered. MIKEY had paid you a visit last night.

When your mind eventually caught up with your body, you turned to the other side of the bed hoping to be met with the comforting presence of your still sleeping companion. You grimaced.

Empty.

Tears slowly welled up in your eyes. Biting your lip to push back the whimper you so desperately wanted to let out, you hit the pillow where his head laid instead, then a couple more times for good measure. To think that this visit would’ve been any different, that for once you would mean more to him than just someone to fool around with whenever he felt like it.

But, before you could wallow in self pity any further, there’s a knock on the bedroom door. You jumped, tugging the covers up to salvage what little decency you had in your vulnerable state. With your heart thumping wildly in your ribs, your breath hitched…Did he stay after all?

A second knock. This one a little more persistent.

With a stuttered intake of breath, you answered, “C-Come in.”

There’s a brief pause, as if the person on the other side hesitated in case they heard you wrong. You called out again, this time more confidently, your fists bunching up the sheets in anticipation at the sound of the doorknob turning; hope bloomed where dread had been planted. A watery smile grew on your face, however, the person who ended up peeking around the door wasn’t at all who you were expecting.

“Wha—Takemichi?!”

Your screech made the blonde startle, jerking back into whoever was standing behind him causing them both to yelp in pain before he was promptly shoved further into the room. Stumbling over his footing, Takemichi fell flat on the floor with a large thud. You winced, reflexively pulling the covers closer to your chin. Shortly after, the culprit revealed himself, a disgruntled Chifuyu holding his nose in pain as he glared down at the offender.

“Jeez, dude, s’your head made outta freaking stone?”

Takemichi grunted from below, “You were the one breathing down my damn neck!”

Like a deer in headlights, you watched the two of them bicker back and forth for a good second until the realization of your very nakedness beneath the covers caught up with you. With fire shrouding beneath your skin, you squeaked, “U-Uh excuse me!”

The two blondes froze, as if they just remembered what they were supposed to be doing. When their eyes darted in your direction, faces lit up like Christmas, Chifuyu and Takemichi swiftly turned on their heels with stiffened bodies while profusely apologizing as they faced away to give you privacy. Nervously, you searched around for a shirt or something, seeing clothes already waiting for you on your nightstand. You knew based on how haphazardly folded they were, Mikey left them there.

Your chest didn’t feel as tight anymore.

Without hesitation you snatched the shirt and sweats and quickly threw them on. Now somewhat decent, you gave the devastated pair the okay. “You can look now…”

Even from behind, you could tell how flustered they were, their ears red and demeanor meek as they hesitantly turned back around. Chifuyu scratched his cheek and Takemichi rubbed the back of his neck, both avoiding eye contact. The former was the first to break the awkward silence, “Sorry ‘bout that, [_____].”

He elbowed the latter. “Guht!… right. Sorry [_____].”

You nodded, offering a small smile. “It’s fine…you did knock. I just…wasn’t expecting to see you two.”

“Oh, right. Mikey called us. We arrived a few minutes ago, actually.”

“Yeah, he told us to check on you to see if you were awake—”

“He’s still here?�� You perked up, hopes raised high to the ceiling. The duo finally looked at you again to show their confusion. Were you not aware of that?

Clearly from your elated expression, that seemed to be the case. Both nodded firmly, and they could’ve sworn the room grew brighter from your smile alone. However, it soon dissipated when an unanswered question still hung in the air.

With a confused blink, you asked, “Wait but…why’d he call you?”

They avoided eye contact again. Takemichi answered.

“You uh.. you’re needed in the living room.”

—

Though you struggled to get out of the bed and walk, you were grateful neither of them commented on it as they escorted you out of the bedroom. From down the hall, you could faintly make out a few other voices coming from the living room, nerves beginning to raddle as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt—More people?

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight you’re greeted with. Your eyes locked on the individual tied to a chair in the middle of the room, first. His head hung low, as if he were on the verge of unconsciousness, but there was no mistaking it. “A-Aki..”

Your presence was acknowledged instantly, every pair of eyes now on you. You felt rooted to the floor, utterly gobsmacked as you scanned the small area with alarms sounding off in your head—Draken, Mitsuya, even Baji came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of ice before halting in his tracks upon noticing you. He greeted you with a wordless, fanged grin before the one man you’ve been wondering about since you woke up trailed out from behind him.

His low, tired gaze slowly sparked to life when it landed on you, lips spreading into a warm grin as he opened his arms and said, “Mornin’, angel. Sleep well?”

You widely blinked.

“Mikey…what’re you.. what is—what,” you stammered, having difficulty choosing what question to ask first as you vaguely gestured.

Your boyfriend sluggishly lifted his head, revealing his taped mouth and swollen face. Your jaw dropped, hand flying up to catch it; man’s was fucked up. And to add insult to injury, the former blonde practically floated over to you to happily engulf you in his strong embrace, as if the scene in front of you wasn’t there. You hesitated returning his affection, perturbed as you watched Baji set the bowl of ice on the coffee table and submerged his fists in it to numb his knuckles.

You gasped before gently pushing Mikey back to shout at the ravenette, “Don’t!”

Baji paused, looking over his shoulder at you. With mild annoyance, he said, “But t’s my turn.”

“Fuck your turn,” you looked back at Mikey, practically staring into his soul. “Explain yourself. Right now.”

He frowned. “No good mornin’ kiss?”

“Mikey.” You pressed, making him pout. When he didn’t say anything in response, you huffed before quickly pecking his lips, face boiling at the fact that there was an audience; you could feel Aki’s glare trying to burn you both. Mikey, on the other hand, beamed with satisfaction. “Now, will you please-”

“One more.”

“Wha—No.”

He pouted again. “One more, and then I’ll explain-”

“Right now, Manjiro!”

Your volume was unexpected, the room startling to a halt. Before Mikey had a chance to speak, you cut him off by lightly shoving him while spewing questions at him, “What the hell is Aki doing tied up in my living room like a fucking hostage? And why are you giving our friends turns?—Turns for what? Is this what you’ve seriously been doing while I was asleep? Trying to make some stupid point? Sneaking around with you wasn’t enough?”

“[_____]-”

“Why did you make me wake up thinking you left again without saying goodbye, you asshole?!”

That last part resulted in you beating your fists against his chest, and Mikey took every hit without protest.

Draken went to speak, since obviously their leader was taking his sweet time providing explanation, but swallowed his words when the shorter delinquent merely wrapped you in his arms again, placing a kiss on your forehead to smooth out the stress lines. He lingered there for a moment before resting his chin upon your head, hands soothingly rubbing your back as you shakily returned the hug, tightly clutching onto his shirt.

Gazes respectfully averted from the vulnerable display, aside from Aki as he continued to watch the two of you, overcome with despair when it all sunk in; you were never his. He had always been second place when it came to Manjiro Sano.

“Don’t be upset, angel. ‘m not going anywhere.”

You sniffled. “Then why-”

Mikey replied, coldly. “Seems your little plaything’s been busy. He paid off a couple of third-rate gangs to try and ‘stomp me out for good’.”

You stiffened, pulling back to search his eyes for any hint of a joke, but the abyss merely stared back. With a slight shake in your head, you attempted to deny the information, not wanting to believe Aki would do such a thing. But, after getting confirmation from the others, there was no room for any doubt.

“Only took us minutes to find out,” Mitsuya said. “Some of their members were cocky enough to go around running their mouths in hopes of recruiting other guys.”

“We tracked down every single one of the bastards involved. Took a few days, but a success nonetheless.” Draken added.

“And guess whose sorry ass was at the root of it all.” Baji sneered, kicking the side of the chair and sending Aki toppling over. He landed with a large thud, moans of pain following shortly after, muffled under the tape on his mouth.

You winced slightly at the sound, but weren’t able to dwell on it for long when Mikey redirected your focus back on him with a gentle nudge under your chin. His expression spoke a thousand words, ranging from solemn to devotion.

Reaching down to hold your hands, he explained.

“That’s why I left town the night after your party. Didn’t want you getting caught up in anything until we got this shit sorted out.”

With a blink, your eyes briefly shifted over to the groaning figure on your living room floor. “A bit late for that.”

Draken shook his head. “Told him we could’ve gone somewhere else to do this. Dumbass just wanted to wave his dick around.”

Mikey flushed, glaring at his second in command. “Did not!”

“Did, too.”

“Shut up, Ken-chin...” he huffed, pouting. “I just knew he wouldn’t suspect anything if [_____] asked him to come over.”

Your brows furrowed. But, your questions are answered when Mikey pulled said device from his pocket, handing it back to you.

“Might’ve borrowed this while you were sleeping.”

Taking the phone in one hand, you could only stare down at your reflection in the screen as it felt like a heavy weight in your hand. Your eyes trailed over to Aki, meeting his pained gaze as he breathed heavily through his nose. A large part of you felt horrible. With him receiving a beating on top of discovering your unfaithfulness, there was no ignoring the lump in your throat as you struggled to swallow. "I...I didn't want things to get this bad..."

Mikey squeezed your other hand, "It's not your fault, angel. Aki just forgot his place, that's all." He shot down an indifferent look at his pathetic form, Aki's blood running cold as he attempted to make himself appear smaller to avoid it. The former blonde directed a softer look at you, rubbing your arm as he assured you. "But the boys'll take care of it, so don't worry your pretty head."

Draken nodded at Takemichi and Chifuyu, the two of them making quick work to sit the guest of the hour upright, each grabbing at the chair's legs to lift Aki up and carry him out of the living room. He slowly began to panic, eyes wildly looking around the room and then landing on you as he pleaded with them, yells muffled by the tape around his mouth. "Mmmh! Mmfh! Mmfhh!"

You gaped, nervously taking a small step forward, "W-Where are you taking him?"

"Relax. Pah's lending us his truck, we're gonna load the fucker up and drop him at the hospital. I wanted to let him stargaze by a dumpster somewhere, but I was outvoted." Baji grumbled.

You allowed yourself to find relief in his statement, although it only sparked another concern. One that Mitsuya picked up on as he waved a hand. "We'll have Michi and Fuyu keeping tabs on him, make sure he behaves."

Mikey scoffed. "Even if he's stupid enough to run to the cops, we've got a few of his buddies ready to pin a bunch of shit on him, if necessary."

Without realizing just how much adrenaline you were running on, you could feel your legs buckle under you. Mikey was quick to steady you, bringing you over to the couch to sit you down, gently. He gestured for someone grab something to drink from the kitchen, Draken being the closest doing just that while Baji and Mitsuya trailed Takemichi and Chifuyu out the door to help with the truck.

Sitting there, lost in your thoughts, eventually the cold sensation of the glass of water pressed to your cheek snapped you free. Absentmindedly taking it from Draken, you muttered a soft thanks before chugging it down. Mikey sat beside you, rubbing your back as he let you take it all in. The second in command was dismissed shortly after to give the two of you some alone time, him placing a hand on your shoulder before taking his leave and closing the front door with a slam.

You jumped, blinking for a moment. Mikey took the empty cup from your shaky hands, taking them into his own as he held them. “What’s on your mind, angel?”

Closing your eyes, you deeply inhaled. Everything. Everything, everywhere, all at once, that’s what. However, you merely exhaled a small chuckle in disbelief, shaking your head as you eventually lifted your gaze to meet his attentive one. Squeezing his hands back, you softly, tiredly, responded. “Can you come back to bed now?”

Mikey looked at you, caught off guard. Then, he offered you a small grin of which soon turned into a yawn of his own. “Of course, angel.”

“So. This a thing now, or..?”

Inui’s eyes darted between you and DRAKEN, all cuddled up on your side of the booth. He was sipping his drink nonchalantly with you wrapped around his bicep, playing with his free hand while scrolling through social media. Both of you exchanged looks, him swallowing and your thumb stopping mid-scroll, then back at the confused blonde.

“Yeah.”

“Pretty much.” You chirped.

Inui heavily sighed. “Great. Means ‘m officially a third wheel. I’ll think twice before agreeing to hang out from now on. I’ve been traumatized enough when you were just on friendly terms. And I use that label lightly.”

Draken rolled his eyes. “Tsk. We were not that bad.”

“Need I remind you of the time I came into the shop earlier than normal, and you had them spread across the—Ngh!”

“Whoops. My foot slipped.” You coyly hummed, going back to scrolling. Inui’s brow twitched, reaching down to sooth his poor shin.

Draken snorted, face subtly flushed having remembered that day, vividly. It was one of the times you and your boy toy got into an argument; give you one guess about who. He cleared his throat, fist up to his lips to hide the growing smirk as Inui shot him a small glare, mouth opening to say more…until he’s loudly interrupted.

“You should’ve seen ‘em. I had that loser running for the hills!”

All three of you paused, exchanging looks of bewilderment. Peering over the booth you could see a group of guys entering the cafe, their leader instantly being recognized by both you and Draken; Takeru. You blinked in surprise, the two mechanics watching with mild interest as the boastful nuisance picked a nearby table, completely oblivious to the attention they've drawn. His friends appeared annoyed, groans leaving their lips as they slumped in their seats.

"Yeah, man, so you've said...for the hundredth time already." One had said, the other shaking his head.

"I still don't buy it. I mean, you, of all people, scaring off the Draken? No shot in hell."

Inui's eyes widened to the size of plates, you nearly choked on air whilst the forementioned man merely raised his eyebrow at the slander. Him? Running from that wet napkin? Damn straight no shot in hell. Takeru, on the other hand, was very adamant on the events being true.

He gave a smug laugh, sounding like a cartoon villain as he crossed his arms in triumph. "Well, you better believe it! I told him off for getting too friendly with [_____] and left him picking himself off the floor afterwards. It was light work."

His friends didn't look convinced in the slightest. "Mhm." "Sure, dude."

"I'm serious!"

Draken set his drink down, wry smirk growing on his face. He then cracked his neck and his knuckles as he readied himself for a much-deserved confrontation. Inui sighed, following suit as he rolled his shoulders back before standing. You sat up on your knees, whining at him as you tugged on his sleeve. "Don't kill him, Ken, I still need to get some of my things from his place..."

"I'll buy you new shit, doll." He said, gun-metal eyes hardening as he looked over at the other table. "'fraid I can't make any promises this time."

With Takeru facing the opposite direction, there was no way for him to notice the impending doom behind him. His friends, however, resemble deer in headlights at the sight of the six-foot-one and five-foot-ten approaching. Instantly recognizing the infamous dragon tattoo, they knew their friend's fate was about to be sealed. One gulped and the other merely closed his eyes in prayer.

Takeru tilted his head at them, brows furrowed. He opened his mouth to speak, only for a large hand to latch onto his shoulder and squeeze, rendering him speechless as pain racked through his body like red alerts across a screen. Draken leered over him like a blanket of death, wearing a sharp grin as he spoke venomously.

"Oi. Mr. Light Work. Why don’t you tell me and Inui here all about how you had me ‘running for the hills’ and ‘picking myself off the floor’. I seem to recall a different scenario, but hey, you can help jog my memory outside, yeah?"

When Makoto first opened his eyes after what felt like an eternal slumber, it took him a moment to gather his surroundinngs. The bright, cold lights on the ceiling. The crisp smell of lemon-scented disinfectant and latex. The rhythmic beating of his heart monitor.

Hospital. He was in the hospital.

With a few confused blinks and a groan, he wracked his brain to try and remember what happened that landed him in there. How long had it been? A day? A week? He wasn’t sure. But, he wouldn’t have to ponder long when his privacy curtain is pulled back to reveal his mother and a nurse. She gasped, flocking to his bedside with tears instantly flowing out of her face, kisses being showered on his bruises that instantly made him hiss in pain.

“Ngh-! M-Mom,” he rasped, struggling to lean away. The nurse, though nervously, advised against any sudden movements due to his weakened state.

“Ma’am, it may not be wise to overwhelm the patient so soon, he’s-”

She fixed the nurse with a hard glare, tears still streaming down her face, looking rather unhinged. “My husband doesn’t donate thousands of dollars to this hospital for you to give unsolicited advice. Do your job and get him something to eat.”

Bristled, the nurse bit her tongue before saying something she’d regret. With a small bow she excused herself, leaving just the two of them. Immediately, his mother went back to wailing about his injuries, asking him a million questions, whilst cursing about his ‘no-good significant other for getting him into trouble’—

“Wait, wait, wait. What did you say?”

“Hm? Oh, that [_____]. I told you they were no good, just based on their lack of decorum and who they associate with, it was bound to have you end up in the hospital, or worse. Thank God they agreed to leave you for good after this because I don’t know what I would’ve done if-”

“What did they say happened?” Makoto asked, exasperated.

His mother blinked, then burst into tears once more. “Oh, no! My poor baby has amnesia! Nurse! Nurse!”

“Mother!” He exclaimed, latching onto her sleeve before she could cause more of a scene. “Tell me what [_____] told you!”

“Honey, they said you got into fight trying to protect them from a mugging.”

Makoto froze. Then, with the speed of a man on fire, tossed the thin, scratchy blankets off to the side and jumped out of bed. Nearly giving his mother a heart attack, her nagging fell upon deaf ears as he made a beeline for his things gathered in a chair sitting in the corner, immediately searching for his phone. Upon finding the device, his sourtude only worsened when he saw there were no missed calls, no texts, no nothing from you.

He began blowing up your phone, but to no avail. Went straight to voicemail every time. Minutes passed, and Makoto grew increasingly more irritated to where one could see steam emitting from his ears. His mother continued pestering him, and soon the nurse came back with a tray of food, shocked to see him out of bed and joining the pestering, of which turned into the both of them arguing once more. But he paid them no mind, too busy delving into white hot hatred, ready to sign a deal with the devil himself if it meant you and that BAJI paid for humiliating him.

Just as he was about to dial again, there's a knock at the door.

The nurse and his mother pause their back and forth, looking over at the doorway to see a boy with dual-toned hair and a dangly earring. He gave a small grin, but his eyes practically pierced through Makoto. He didn't recognize the visitor, but judging based on his tatted neck and unsettling aura, he knew it couldn't mean anything good.

"Excuse me," his mother soon broke the silence. "I believe you have the wrong room."

"Oh, no, I have the right room. My name's Kazutora. I'm a friend of [_____]'s."

Makoto's eyes widened. He thrusted an accusatory finger at him, "N-No, I know you! Y-You're that felon, you work at that pet store with that psycho who attacked me, Keisuke Baji!"

Kazutora tilted his head. "Hm? Baji didn't attack you. You were knocked out cold by a thief. [_____] called him to help bring you all the way here-"

"There wasn't any mugging! I was assaulted by that thug in [______]'s apartment!"

"What?!" His mother screeched. Kazutora merely shook his head.

"Mm, no, I think you're mistaken. Baji was at the shop when [_____] called him. They're both at the police station right now giving their statement. They sent me here to check in on you." Kazutora lied effortlessly through his teeth, stare unwavering as he gaslit everyone in the room. "Clearly you hit your head pretty hard, man. Maybe you should lie back down. You aren't thinking straight."

Makoto floundered, gesturing wildly. "HE'S FUCKING LYING!"

His mother and the nurse didn't make the situation any better, cornering him and ushering him back to bed. Even though he struggled, there was no stopping the strength of an overworked, underpaid nurse as she slammed him down onto the bed, wrestling with him for a moment until she secured him with his mother's help, tucking him in tightly within the blankets. His mother fawned over him, combing through his hair, being careful of the bandages. Tears welled up in her eyes again, thinking that her son had gone hysterical. "My poor baby..."

"No, mother, you don't understand! You need to call our attorneys right now, c-call the police! That b-bastard's trying to make me sound crazy!"

"Maybe some morphine will help calm him down." Kazutora casually commented to the nurse. She grunted in agreement, worn out from dealing with the both of them as she left to prepare a heavy dosage.

He continued to shout in protest, all the way up until the nurse stuck him with the morphine. He tried to fight against it, but it was no use. And the last thing he could comprehend before the world faded to black was the hazy outline of Kazutora, approaching his bed as he leaned down to whisper a parting threat.

"Don’t try anything stupid. We know where you live."

—

Baji's phone vibrated, causing him to groan as he turned to squint at the offending device. With you fucked out, laid out, and passed out in his arms, he wanted nothing more to ignore whatever asshole was texting him. But, upon further inspection, it was his favorite asshole sending him an update on his little problem.

from : tora 9:09pm “ 👍. ”

He grinned, sharply. After locking his phone and setting it back on the nightstand, he tugged you closer to his side, exhaling deeply in satisfaction. He'll be sure to visit the 'brave hero' tomorrow. May even bring Patches.

He wished he had a camera to capture the look on your boyfriend’s face right now.

When Haji came over to apologize for his behavior yesterday, flowers in his hand and everything, MITSUYA was the last thing he expected to see. Said lavender-haired delinquent looked him up and down, disinterest coloring his expression as he leaned against the doorframe, shirtless, mind you. It didn't take Haji long to notice the assortment of hickies painted across his pale torso, all the way down to his pelvis visible in his low-hanging joggers.

Haji could feel bile rise in the back of his throat. Anger soon bubbled right after.

But, before he could even think to spew out threats, Mitsuya reeled his arm back and with the strength of God himself landed one crack right between Haji's eyes, sending him and the flowers flying backward, right off the stoop. He landed with a sickening thud to the pavement, flowers spreading haphazardly as some fluttered in the air until they eventually landed on the ground. Mitsuya shook out his knuckles, turned on his heel to grab the couple of boxes sitting near the doorway, filled with some of Haji’s stuff. He tossed them out the door to land right by his unconscious body, dusting off his hands before heading back inside, slamming the door right behind him.

Like he said. He only needed one.

#🍁wasabi #*rings bell* KNOCKOUT #tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #tokyo rev #tr smut #tokyorev smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev scenarios #tokyorev headcanons #tokyorev imagines #mikey #baji #mitsuya #draken

735 notes · View notes