#I have been fiddling with and making minute adjustments to this one for TWO MONTHS

[chiropteracupola]

Well...who goes there?

[kate heriot - requested by @subsequentibis]

[dixons-sunshine]

Heal | Daryl Dixon x Mutant!Fem!Reader

A/N: Requested by @tempobaekh. I hope you like it!

Your supernatural powers were no secret to the members in your group. Your ability to move things with your mind had not been something anyone in your group feared. In fact, when you had used it to save everyone back at the quarry, that knowledge made you more valuable to the group. You could help better protect everyone than essentially anybody else, and that had secured your place in the ragtag group of survivors.

However, there was one thing you had yet to tell everyone about; your ability to heal faster than anyone else, but that secret was about to be revealed.

“What the fuck?”

“I was hoping you would have an explanation for me, Rick.”

“I have no idea, Hershel. This is—I don’t know what this is.”

“Perhaps Daryl would know? The two of them appear to be rather close.”

“Yeah, they’re together. If there’s anyone that would know, it has to be him.”

With a groggy, exhausted groan, you lolled your head to the side. Slowly, you opened your eyes, and as your eyes adjusted, you saw the concerned yet bewildered faces of Rick Grimes and Hershel Greene. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, trying to push yourself up, but Hershel stopped you.

“Don’t,” he advised you with a stern gentleness. “Don’t move just yet.” When you complied with his request, he continued. “What do you remember, Y/N?”

It was as if his words were the key that was needed to open the metaphorical gate in your mind. In an instant, all the memories flooded into your mind, making realization dawn on you. The run. Getting shot by one of the Governer’s men. The bullet grazing your temple. And then nothing.

“Getting shot,” you replied, your voice hoarse from the lack of hydration. “And then nothing. I think I passed out.”

“You did,” Rick confirmed. He stepped forward and peered down at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. “We saw that bullet graze your head. We thought we had lost you.”

“I’m fine,” you reassured him. You pushed yourself up again, this time without protest from the doctor. “I’m fine, really. Fit as a fiddle.”

“That’s the thing, though,” Hershel chimed in. “You weren’t when you were brought in a few minutes ago. You were on the verge of death, but now there’s no wound in sight. If I hadn’t seen the blood pool from your head myself, I would have assumed the bullet hadn’t touched you at all.”

Oh. You forgot that you did not tell anyone—well, except for Daryl—about your regenerative ability. It was not that you did not want anyone to know, it was just that it had slipped your mind. You had been lucky enough over the past year to not have sustained an injury big enough to be a cause for concern, so there had been no reason to alert anyone to that. The only reason Daryl even knew in the first place was because he had witnessed a scrape heal within minutes up close and personal a few months prior, and you had explained to him why.

Well, you thought to yourself, guess the cat’s out of the bag now.

“I heal super fast. It’s part of my powers.” That was the most basic explanation you could come up with. If you had to explain it to them on a scientific level, in the way the people who experimented on you explained it to you, you all would be there for days.

“How? How’s that even possible?” Rick inquired, his brows furrowed together.

“I don’t know. It just is.”

“Alright, m’pretty sure y’all have a lot’a questions, but save ‘em for later, yeah? Healin’ abilities or not, s’still the safest bet to let her rest for now. Right, Doc?”

Involuntarily, you found yourself smiling at the sound of Daryl’s voice. The archer’s ocean-coloured eyes locked with your eyes, and he sent you a small, lopsided smile in return. He knew how overwhelmed you could get when talking about your powers and how you got them, acutely aware of the fact that it was a time in your life you were not particularly fond of, so he knew it was better if you had the time to gather your thoughts and prepare yourself before you got bombarded with questions.

“He’s right,” Hershel agreed. He placed a gentle hand on Rick’s shoulder, urging him back, before shifting his attention back to you. “Get some rest, Y/N. That’s about the only thing I’m certain you need.”

“Thanks, Hershel,” you replied. You watched as Rick and Hershel pushed past Daryl, who had been leaning against the doorframe of your cell. When you were certain the two of you were alone, you spoke up again. “Thank you.”

Daryl nodded, before pushing himself away from the door. He walked over to you and sat on the chair next to your bed, and leaned forward to take your hand in his, a rare show of affection for the archer. He brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft, tender kiss to your knuckles.

“M’real glad yer alright, Sweetheart,” he murmured. “If it weren’t for yer weird as shit healin’ thing, ya could’a died. Hell, if that asshole had better aim, he could’a shot ya clean in the brain. Pretty sure ya can’t heal from that.”

“No, I can’t,” you confirmed with a sad smile. “But I’m fine, Dar. I promise.” When Daryl simply sighed and ducked his gaze to the floor, you took it upon yourself to lighten the mood a bit. Using your telekinesis, you brought his chair closer to the bed, laughing lightly when he flailed to grip the chair to stop from falling. “Sorry. I should have warned you I was gonna do that.”

Daryl shook his head. “Nah, s’fine. M’guessin’ that’s somethin’ m’gon’ have to get used to.”

“Yeah,” you giggled. You shared a smile with Daryl, and the look he sent you had you all warm on the inside. “What?” you questioned, suddenly feeling shy under his intense gaze.

“Nothin’.”

“Just admiring the view?”

“Yeah,” Daryl said, smiling softly, before sighing. “M’glad yer okay. Ya really have no idea.”

“Me too. I’m glad, too.”

[musingginger]

separate ways // eddie munson

Synopsis – Eddie sure does love to torment you and turn you into putty in his hands. 😊

Pairing- Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Eddie Munson x You

Warnings –some cursing, fluff, lots of nicknames (princess, sweetheart, angel), no Y/N, SMUTTY SMUT SMUT, 18+ only, minors DNI, cockwarming, grinding, lots of fingering (receiving), nipple play, soft!eddie, a tad bit of possessive!eddie if you squint, softdom!eddie, praise, squirting.

Word Count – 3.2k

A/N- I *clap* WANT *clap* THIS *clap* SO *clap* BADLY*clap*!  *screams into pillow* This idea got me wildly hot, so I of course had to write it down for all of y’all. Any constructive criticism would be appreciated. Also, this is only edited by me, so apologies if there are typos. And of course, if you enjoy it, please reblog! Hope you enjoy! Thanks! <3

I do not grant permission for anyone to use my work. Under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

You were going to lose your mind if he kept it up.

It was a typical Friday night in the trailer. Eddie threw on one of his new favorite slasher flicks, Sleepaway Camp. You had probably watched it close to 10 times in the last two months. Eddie had you laying with your back to his chest, in between his legs. You loved laying like this against him. You could feel every breath, every laugh, every jump scare (though he vehemently denied it every time). And of course, every little kiss on the top of your ear Eddie gave you when you got scared yourself.

But tonight, something was different.

Tonight, you wore a cute new red plaid mini skirt that you had gotten for Christmas. You loved the way it looked with your beat-up combat boots. Subconsciously, you might have worn it to torment Eddie… he’s always said he had an affinity for skirts and combat boots. When you got to the trailer, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“Sweetheart… is that-uh-is that new?” He licks his lips, clearing his throat, trying to get the words out.

“Yeah baby! You like it?” You give him a little twirl on the porch.

“You-uh-you could say that again, sweetheart.” He smirks, giving you that boyish smile as he scratched the back of his head. He sticks his head out of the doorframe, looking right and left. “You better get in here before you start getting cat called and someone asks me where my girlfriend went.”

Eddie grabbed your hand firmly and yanked you inside.

That was two hours ago.

Now you were comfortably in between Eddie’s legs, watching Sleepaway Camp. His large warm hand was laying gently on your thigh.  His mouth had been getting closer to your ear for the last few min, and he was now breathing hotly against your delicate skin.

He gently starts to stroke your thigh with his left hand. You gasp a little as cold rings hit your skin, making you shiver.

“You ok, angel?” He asks gently, whispering in your ear, tilting his head to get a good look at you.

You nod, catching your breath and trying to focus on the movie. You clear your throat, shaking your head a little bit, adjusting slightly.

“Uncomfortable, sweetheart?” Eddie gives you a little peck on your cheek. His long trestles tickling your face.   

You shake your head. “Nope… all good, Eds.” You turn your head back, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Well as long as your comfortable�� You can always tell me to move or stop…” He smirks, giving your nose a tiny kiss as his other hand starts to gently fiddle with the hem of your skirt. The touch makes your breath hitch, as you look up into his big, brown eyes.

“You gotta pay attention to the movie sweetheart…” He lifts his pointer finger, making a small circle, encouraging you to turn back around. You roll your eyes, turning your head back to the movie. For the amount of times he’s gotten distracted during a movie, god forbid if it was YOU that got distracted.

You both lay there for a few minutes, his fingers tracing along the bottom of the plaid. He carefully and softly starts to pull your thighs apart.

“Eddie…” You say softly, your face getting warm and you feel hot all over.

“Shh sweetheart, the movie. It’s just now getting to the good part.” Eddie kisses the top of your head, smirking.  His broad hand lightly grips the inner part of your thigh, dutifully pulling apart your legs until your skirt is hiked up on your upper thighs. You let out a little moan as you feel the cool air hit your panties, which had gotten, surprisingly, ridiculously wet.

Eddie gently pulls your skirt up a little more, just enough where he could see the tiniest bit of your panties. He bites his lip softly, smiling to himself. He had been wanting to get you into this position since you got here. Eddie strokes you with his rough, calloused thumb on your smooth thigh while his other hand starts to move towards the ever growing heat under your panties.

Suddenly, you feel gentle pressure on your clit. Not too much. Just enough. The touch from Eddie’s fingers on both sides of your sensitive nub makes you start to squirm. Firm circles start to encompass your hot button, making your thighs start to clench together.

“Ah ah ah… no no sweetheart.” Eddie murmurs in your ear as he hooks his ankles around your calves, pushing your legs back open and KEEPING them open. He wasn’t gonna let you move an inch, and you let him. You liked it.

“That’s my good girl…” he murmurs in your ear, possessively patting your pussy. He slides fingers back under your panties, rubbing your clit lighter. The movement makes you roll your eyes back and instinctively buck up into his hand.

Eddie smirks and taps your firm bud delicately. “Sweetheart, if you move too much, I’ll stop…. And you don’t want me to do that now do you?”

You bite your lip, shaking your head from side to side. You hold your hips down, trying your hardest not to move a muscle. After a minute or so, Eddie starts to rub your clit again.

Soft, messy sounds start to fill the room from your dripping wet pussy. God, he really knew how to really work you up. Firm circles, followed by gentle slides became his rhythm and it was driving you crazy. He hikes up your skirt around your waist, giving him a full view.

“You soaked through your panties, angel….” You whine on top of him, unable to speak.

Suddenly, his fingers leave your clit, making you whine softly. Eddie reaches over to his side table to pull out a pair of scissors, in which he quickly cuts your panties off of you at your hips.

“Eds! What are you-?” You softly protest, as Eddie shushes you softly.

“You don’t need those, now do you sweetheart?” Putting away the scissors, he slowly peels the white fabric off your soaking cunt. The action itself almost makes you cum. You start to arch your back, but remember what he said about moving, and you lay back against him, giving him your full body weight.

Cool night air hits your soaked pussy like a brick wall, that makes you shudder. Eddie lets go of your thigh and moves his hands up your sides slowly. He starts to lift your shirt, showing off your full tits.

“Can’t be neglecting these now can I sweetheart?” He moans softly in your ear, as he pulls up your bra, exposing your chest to him. He groans softy as his big hands grope your tits, making his bulge throb against your back.

You move your fingers towards your acing nub, but before you can get there, Eddie swats your hand away.

“Now now… you’ve gotta be a good girl for me, remember? Good girls don’t touch without asking. And you’re not allowed to touch at all.” He says a little roughly, putting your hand back on his thigh. You nod, understanding.

“I’ll be a good girl. I promise Eds.” You whisper horsely. He turns your head to give you a deep kiss, booping your nose.

“I know you will princess…” He slightly adjusts, focusing back on your heaving chest.

Moaning hotly in your ear, his pointer fingers and thumbs gently pinch and twist your sensitive nipples. You groan softly while he plays with your hard nubs, your fingers gripping into his thighs a little harder.

“Look at you being such a good girl for me.” He kisses your cheek firmly, while he tugs a little harder. The slight pain makes you yelp from pleasure, making you drip from your slick hole.

“MMmmm that’s it. Let me take care of you babygirl.” His strong tongue licks your earlobe, biting it roughly while he watches your body shiver and shake from his touch.

He lets go of your right nipple, moving back down to your pussy, which you were sure by this point had left a little pool on the bed. Expertly finding your clit again, he tenderly strokes you with his thumb. You gasp, pushing your head to the side, into his shoulder a bit.

“Eddie… Eds please… please… I want to…” You groan louder as you body starts to shake under him. You can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence.

“You want to what sweetheart? You know you have to use your words…” He says teasingly, biting your neck.

“I wa.. I want to cum Eds.” You whine at him, yelping as his thumb strokes your bud a little harder.

Eddie smiles devilishly. “Well, you know princess that want, and need are two very different things… and I need to you to NEED to cum. Do you understand?” He whispers softly into your ear. His curly locks touching the side of your face.

“Yes Eddie... yes… I need to cum.” You whimper against him.

He makes a small tsk sound. “Mmm I’m not quite convinced yet sweetheart.” He starts to use the pads of his pointer and middle fingers to diligently rub your clit. The action makes you furrow your brow, moaning a little louder now.

“Does that feel good princess?” Eddie moans into your ear. The action of getting you off was getting him harder than he had maybe ever been before.

“Mmhmm yes Eds it feels…ah… really good.. don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” You whimper against him. Eddie leaves wet kisses along your neck and collarbone while he keeps pinching your nipple and perfectly rubbing your bundle of nerves.

You could barely hear the screams from the tv over Eddie’s panting in your ear. The sensation was becoming too much and your legs start to twitch and shake more violently as your climax starts to reach its peak.

“Eddie… please… please I need to cum.” You moan. Holding onto his thighs was the only thing that was keeping you somewhat grounded.

“Mmmm I don’t think you’re desperate enough yet sweetheart. Just a little bit longer princess.” Your wetness had made his fingers slick and it easier to glide over your throbbing clit.

Moving his fingers over you in an agonizingly slow manner, before picking up the pace once again. You tremble, a moan stuck in your throat. You don’t think you can hold on anymore.

“Eddie… please PLEASE please I need to cum… Eds please!” Your entire body shakes on top of him, making his cock unbelievably hard. You feel the long, thick member throbbing against you.

“You can do it princess… just a little longer. I’ll count you down, ok? I’ll count back from 30. 30….”

As he starts to count back, your mind has to only focus on the numbers. Every few seconds he’d say another number, clearly wanting to torment you. By the time he gets to 10, you’re panting and moaning, crying out in frustration, nails gripping into his jeans.

“5….”

“4…”

“3…” He starts to count even slower now. You can hear his devilish smile in his voice.

“Eds… please… PLEASE…”

“Shhh… 2…”

“EDDIE!” You scream out.

“1…”

A massive tidal wave of an orgasm washes over you, making you leak onto the bed. The relief brings tears to your eyes as you cum hard than you thought was possible for a person to cum. Your dripping hole clenching around nothing almost made you want to cry.

Eddie slows down his rubbing, placing hot kisses on the hollow spot below your ear. He sits up a little, letting go of your nipple, placing his hand back down on your thigh. He grips it roughly, pulling you open more.

Suddenly, you feel two nimble fingers enter your empty, dripping cunt. You yelp out loudly, as the sensation is overwhelming.

“Eds! Wh- Baby… Wha-” Choked pants get caught in your throat as you finally feel his fingers plug up the emptiness between your legs.

“Shhh I just wanna see something sweetheart. I wanna keep making you feel so good… so fucking good.” He gently turns your head back to the front, pushing you up a little bit. “I want you to watch.”

He licks and bites at your neck, leaving pretty lavender marks along your delicate skin. He starts to firmly finger your pussy, adding just a little bit with every thrust, until his fingers where deep inside you, hitting your g-spot. This new position had his arms pushing your tits together, making them shake with every movement.

You turn your face towards his, eyes pleading. “Eddie… its too much!”

He sharply stops. “Do you want me to stop sweetheart? I can if you want me to…” The second his fingers start to slide out of your pussy, you whimper and start to plead for them to go back in. “See, this is how I know you’re my good girl…”

He pushes his fingers back into you deeply, making your back arch. His hand is gripping you harder now, leaving bright red marks on your inner thigh. Sloppy sounds from your wet pussy start to get louder as he fingers you deeper and faster.

You groan loudly, lets starting to twitch again. He always knew how to make you cum fast from his fingers, but in this position, it made his fingers feel inches longer. He gently spreads them inside of you, causing you to moan loudly.

“Fuck princess, you look so pretty with my fingers inside of you…” His lips leave your neck for just a moment to watch as well. His digits glistening in the soft light of bedside lamp, his cock throbbing uncontrollably in his pants.

Your pussy starts to clamp down on your lover’s fingers, your lips bright red from your teeth biting them, trying hard not to move too much. You roll your eyes back as another wave starts to roll over your body.

“Eddie, I’m gonna…” You screech as you cum hard around his fingers. Pussy dripping over his hand. You never realized your pussy could ever get so wet.

But he doesn’t stop. He keeps up his steady pace. Wet, messy sounds leave your cunt, while Eddie starts to softly hump your back.

“That’s it sweetheart… just one more… I know you can do it. Fuck… You’re being so… good for me princess.” He groans loudly as he bucks into you a little harder.

Tipping his fingers up slightly, now focusing on your g-spot, which makes you leak even more. Your tits are bouncing wildly now, and the cold air keeping your nipples hard.

Eddie kisses your temple softly, giving you soft praises in your ear. “Keep watching love… I want you to see what I’m doing to you.” You lock your eyes on his fingers pumping in and out of your pink pussy. The wave gets closer and closer.

“You don’t need to ask or tell me when you’re gonna cum this time babygirl. Just lean into it… let it happen… let me take care of you.” He grunts, moving his fingers harder in and out of you.

He starts to hook his fingers up into your g-spot, and relentlessly presses on it, coaxing your body into another orgasm. His eyes are wide, transfixed on your body. The body that was melting into his with ever second that passed. The sensation overpowers you, your eyes glazing over with tears of pleasure.

“I know sweetheart, I know… I got you… I got you.” He mutters deeply into your ear.

Then, without warning, your climax hits you like a mack truck. Screaming, you gush over his fingers, squirting all over the bed.

“THAT’S IT PRINCESS! SUCH A GOOD GIRL!” He roughly kisses your cheek and rubs your clit with 3 of his fingers back and forth, making you spray harder. He pounds his fingers back inside of you, making you squirt again. Your body arches and writhes on top of him. You’re unable to stop your body from moving, even if you wanted to.

The deep satisfaction makes you lose your sense of self, only focusing on pleasure, lost in the sound of your own panting. For a brief moment, you hear in the distance Eddie praising you.

“Such a good girl.. you did so well for me…” Eddie slows his fingers to a halt, gradually sliding out of you. He pulls you into his lap, cradling you gently, peppering your face with kisses.

You tremble against him, trying to catch your breath, nuzzling your face into his neck, laying on gentle easy kisses.

Eddie gingerly runs his fingers through your hair, getting it out of your face. Your eyes flutter open, feeling fluffy and treasured. You give him a small smile. His thumb rubs along your bottom lip, tugging at the corner of your mouth before kissing you deeply.

“There she is… You ok sweetheart?” He asks you so carefully, as if you were a piece of China he didn’t want to break.

You breathe in softly before nodding. “I’m ok Eds… I’m more than ok…” You smirk a little, blushing totally blissed out. “I-I didn’t know I could do that.” Looking over at the mess you left on the bed.

“Mmm I did. It was just a matter of time…” He whispers the pad of his thumb lightly touching your clit. It makes you jump, but then you lean into it a bit more. “But I’m serious. Are you alright? I didn’t push you too far?”

“Eds, no. It was amazing baby.” You put your hand on his cheek, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. As you break away, a though crosses your mind.

“What about you Eddie… Do you want me to…?” You wiggle your butt a little on his jeans, realizing there’s a wet spot. “Oh! Fuck, sorry. Did I do…”

You look at Eddie as the words start to leave your mouth, and he blushes a deep red. He looks down at you, smiling sheepishly.

“Ah yeah… No sweetheart that’s-ahem-that’s not from you.” He scratches the back of his head boyishly. You giggle at his admission.

“Baby! You got that worked up?”

“Well duh… I mean look at you!” He laughs loudly, kissing in between your tits. You let out a loud laugh as his hair tickles your neck. He leaves a trail of spit as he takes your right nipple in his mouth, giving it a soft suck before popping it back out.  He leans back, drinking all of you in.

“You know… since we’re both a bit of a mess now… how about we get in the shower, I’ll get you all cleaned up and then we can come back here… and make more of a mess.”

You bite your bottom lip again, smiling at him.

“Last one there’s a rotten egg!” You yell hoping off of him, making a mad dash for the bathroom. Eddie groans, chuckling to himself at the sight and darts after you.

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[maitanii]

this is just a little scene after about you that i didn't add because i liked how i ended it :) enjoy &lt;3

— YOU FEEL YOUR LEGS TREMBLE SLIGHTLY. You're not even entirely sure of what you're about to do. The faint smile on Inui's face conveys some confidence, but you know he's trying to persuade you not to go through with your idea. After all, half a year is more than enough to understand the tactics he uses to get his way.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes."

"You don't have to prove anything to me, okay? We can go to that café you love. I'll treat you to the pistachio New York Roll; I know you're dying to try it."

You fiddle nervously with the helmet straps in your hands. You weren't afraid of riding a motorcycle; Draken gave you lessons two or three times a month (to your mother's dismay). But the idea of taking Inupi on the back does make you a bit more nervous. You take a deep breath before giving your boyfriend a confident look. He's wearing the leather jacket you gave him for Valentine's Day and a plaid shirt underneath. You won't waste a single minute of this special day.

Carefully adjusting the helmet, you make sure it's properly in place before heading towards the motorcycle parked in front of you. Inupi watches you calmly. Lately, it seems like nothing can disturb him.

"Ready?" Inupi asks while putting on his helmet. His eyes reveal a hint of excitementthat makes you smile.

You nod, trying to appear more confident than you feel. You get on the bike carefully, feeling the added weight and recalling Draken's instructions on how to balance the vehicle with a passenger.

Inupi wraps his arms around your waist and lightly strokes your abdomen with his thumb. You suppose it's his way of reassuring you, and although it makes you shiver a bit, you feel comforted by his closeness. Although a helmet covered almost all of his face, you knew that the corners of his lips were raised, forming a smile. A smile he used when both of you were working, and he would drop a false piece of information that you ended up believing. A smile he used when some customer flirted with you, and you sought help with just a glance.

You start the engine and pull away slowly, feeling adrenaline mixed with nervousness coursing through your body.

"I hope today's date ends at the café and not at the hospital," Inui comments as he feels you accelerate.

"You know what? You're right, maybe one of us will end up in the hospital"

The wind gently hits your face as you navigate the streets. Inupi points out familiar places, recalling funny anecdotes to distract you from your nerves. Little by little, you begin to relax, letting the excitement of the adventure overpower the initial insecurity.

The journey goes smoothly, and upon reaching the café, both of you get off the bike with a smile. You take off your helmet, feeling proud.

"What? What do you have to say about my incredible driving skills?" Holding the helmet on one side of your waist, you smiled widely, looking at your boyfriend. "I've left you speechless, huh? Now you "

"You ran a red light."

"What?" All excitement vanished like gunpowder. "Sei, what are you saying? That can't be. I've been attentive the whole way."

Leaving the helmet on the seat, you run your hands through your hair. It couldn't be possible; you had studied the route a thousand times. There was no—

"Seishu, idiot!" You lightly slapped his arm. "We didn't pass by any traffic lights on the way here."

A grin spread across the blond's face.

"Well," he held out his palms for a high-five, "congrats on been attentive, you deserve a reward."

"With you, I deserve more than one, honestly." Passing by his figure, you began to walk towards the establishment. Lowering his outstretched arms, the young man jogged closer to you.

"Come on, don't be mad." Despite trying to speak seriously, the mischievous tone didn't leave his voice.

"But did I do it right?" Standing at the restaurant's door, you turned to look him in the eyes.

"Not even I could drive better. And that's saying something." Approaching you, the blonde placed an arm around your shoulders and planted a kiss on your forehead. "However, you forgot to lock the motorcycle. And I would appreciate coming back home with my girlfriend and with my bike".

next thing i'll post is kokonui conent, so be prepared >:) bye! &lt;3

[corpsebasil]

If you’re taking requests !!!

This may not be much to go off of but maybe reader x Ethan Landry are coworkers and they both have the biggest crush on one another. He’s an awkward mess, but she finds it so cute. It can fluff or smutty, or both 😌😌

yes

“Pass me the stapler, E?” You asked, bent halfway over the receptionist’s desk at the Blackmore Puppy Resort, carefully tapping a stack of papers together.

You’d been sorting for over half an hour, making sure every dog’s paperwork was kept neat and organized for the filing cabinet. Your coworker, a brunet named Ethan Landry, was sitting on the ground near your feet, attempting to fix a broken collar. His tongue was pressed to his cheek, eyebrows furrowed as he fiddled with the metal and leather contraption. Finally he grumbled, moving to his knees to stretch to the opposite cabinet, snatching the stapler up off the top.

“This is fucking hopeless.” He grumbled, passing you the stapler and dumping the collar in the trash. “Boss is gonna kill me.”

“It’s not that bad,” you told him, stapling together the papers, but when your eyes darted down to the bin and saw the mangled collar, you barely suppressed a snort. “okay, yeah. You annihilated that collar.”

“Ugh.” He groaned, leaning his back against the desk, splaying his legs out in front of him on the floor. “Okay, what if I drove to PetSmart really fast and got a new one? Think she’d notice?”

“Before the owner comes to pick up her dog in—” you glanced at the clock. “—twenty minutes? Yeah.” He groaned again and you cracked a smile. “Told you not to take the collar off.”

“It was bath time.”

“You’re supposed wash them with the collars on.”

Ethan made a noise of complaint and leaned his head against the side of your knee as you worked, continuing to staple papers. You let a small smile form on your mouth. You and Ethan had been working together for months now and had become fast friends; you ate lunch together during your breaks, raced each other to answer the phone, and fought over who got to walk the small dogs instead of the huge, hulking German Shepard that stayed regularly at the kennel while his military dad was on tour.

And, to be honest, you liked him a bit.

He was cute, that was undeniable. And the two of you had a sort of easy friendship that had began practically the first shift together. He looked up at you, brown eyes fixed on the side of your face as you finished up filing some paperwork.

“Do you remember Jess?” He asked and you paused, glancing down.

“Jess as in…your ex?”

“Yeah.” He sighed, looking towards a spot on the wall. “She texted me yesterday. Wants to go to Shake Shack later and catch up.” His curly head tilted as he adjusted himself, sitting up straighter. “Should I go?”

“Do you want to go?”

“Do you want me to want to go?”

“Do you want me to want you to want to go—?”

“Y/N.” He laughed, tugging at your shoelace as he grinned, a stupidly cute smile that pulled at your heart. “Im asking for your advice right now. Help me out.”

You pretended to ponder for a while, even if the thought of Ethan going anywhere with Jess made you feel slightly violent. You shrugged, sliding him a casual glance as you opened the desk drawer and shoved the papers inside.

“I don’t know.” You said, tightening your ponytail before you moved to the computer, pulling up your schedule. “Maybe you should reconsider doing anything with your ex-girlfriend.”

“It’s not like I have other options.” Ethan said, watching as you tapped on the keyboard slightly aggressively. “Right?”

“You could always use Tinder. A much more advanced, entertaining route than the obvious heartache you’re gonna get from getting Shake Shack with her.”

“Come on, haven’t you ever gone back to an ex?”

“No, because I’m not a dumbass. And I’m going on my lunch break in like, ten minutes, so that’s all the advice you’re getting.”

Ethan stayed silent for a moment and you turned, glancing down at where he seemed deep in concentration on the ground. Then he stood, sighing loudly, and stretched. The boy had no business being as tall as he was, practically towering over you when he was by your side.

“What if we went to Shake Shack instead?” He asked, drumming his fingers on the desk as he peered down at you. You raised an eyebrow and he raised one right back. “What? I don’t want to be thought of as a dumbass.” Your amused smile was enough for him to crack one of his own, his hip bumping yours as he walked by. “What do I text Jess?”

“How about nothing?” You offered, following him as he moved towards the back where the two of you kept your bags. “Block her.”

“I was thinking, ‘I’ve found a better lunch date’, but that works too.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up your bag and slinging it over your arm.

“You’re so annoying. But fine. We can get burgers if you want.”

“That’s my girl.” He said, grinning as he flicked your ear, his finger hooking through your belt loop as tugged you along with him out of the back.

—

After lunch and then your afternoon shift with Ethan, the two of you wound up at his dorm, splayed out on his bed as you watched American Psycho. Ethan was laying on his stomach next to you, chin on his arm as he watched the film, both of your eyes glued to the screen.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He suddenly asked, and you glanced over in surprise.

“Hmm?”

“Do you—I mean, are you dating anyone?” He looked away, slightly embarrassed. “Sorry. Never-mind.”

“Why?” You asked, propping yourself on your elbow and turning your head to face him. He was close, barely half a foot away, his cheeks flushed a slight shade of pink. “You wanna ask me out on a date?”

“No.” He grinned slyly, his mask of awkwardness slipping a fraction into one of recognition at the line. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“You’re so cheesy.” You laughed, nudging him with your shoulder, the scent of his cologne invading your nose as he watched you with amused, soft brown eyes. “Quoting Stab like I haven’t seen the movie a thousand—”

Ethan moved quickly, surprising you, one hand sliding from your jaw to your neck, the other hand pressing the mattress for support as he kissed you hard, an involuntary noise leaving you at the rapid movement. He pulled away, forehead brushing yours as he spoke, the taste of his spearmint gum lingering on your mouth.

“Go on a date with me, Y/N.” He murmured, kissing you again, and you slipped a hand into his hair, tugging him further onto you as you whispered your assent.

—

HELLOO

[drewsbuzzcut]

I Tore You Right Apart

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses blurb

part 1 here

warnings: angst, sadness

You had just settled the boys in bed, spending an extra 30 minutes watching them while they slept. They are finally becoming adjusted to the Hampton’s house after being here for a month.

Making your way to the cozy living room to relax, something you haven’t been able to do lately, you hear your phone ringing. The color in your face disappears when you see who’s calling you, Nadia. You cautiously reach for your phone as if she could jump out of it and yell at you.

“Hello?” You say in a small whisper, resembling a frightened child.

“I’m surprised you picked up,” she responds and your shoulders sag in relief that she doesn’t sound angry.

“If we’re being honest, I was scared to pick up,” you admit.

“Why? There’s no need to be scared.”

You fiddle around with a loose string on your jeans, wishing you could just be wrapped in Mat’s arms on your huge bed.

“But he’s your son, Nadia,” you say defeatedly.

“And he told me everything, you have every right. Don’t get me wrong, you both made mistakes, but you needed space and that’s okay,” she says, soothing that ache just a bit.

“He told me that you’re going to be helping him,” you say, changing the subject, surprising Nadia at the fact that you two have talked.

You and Mat have no choice but to talk. It’s not fair to Angel or Nolan for them to not see their father. You can actually count on one hand how many times you’ve talked; he usually just calls for the boys.

“I am, but I think it’s good that you said to start off on the weekends.”

“Yeah. Weekends just seem best, especially right before the season starts. Did he tell you that Angel is actually not going to be with him for a little while because of the breastfeeding situation?”

“No, he didn’t tell me. Well, hopefully I’ll be able to pick him up for the day, so Mat can see him,” she mutters, sounding sad.

You gather all your strength to not burst into tears. You are disappointing all of the people that matter to you.

“Nadia…”

“Yes, dear?”

“Am I making a mistake? Do you think I can do this, because if Mat doesn’t think I can do it, then maybe I can’t?” Your voice cracks, eyes becoming tearful.

“Sweetheart, Mat didn’t mean what he said. He loves you and he knows you’re a great mother. He wouldn’t have had kids with you if he thought you couldn’t do it,” she sighs out, reassuring you.

“I told him that I hated him,” you sob, face falling into your hands.

“I know, he told me.”

“I’m a terrible person,” you blurt out.

“No, you’re not. You just said something out of anger. I love you and my grand babies. Give them kisses for me, and I’ll see if we can meet up sometime to talk more. I just got to Mat’s, so I have to go.”

“Okay. I love you, too.”

You hang up the phone, sinking into the unwanted silence of the house. To “Mat’s” place; the thought sends you spiraling. Your tears continuously run down your cheeks. Silent sobs wracking through your body.

I am a terrible person. You think to yourself, knowing all too well about that piece of paper hidden in your purse stating that you are pregnant with your third child.

a/n: So sorry for the angst, but it’s needed for the story to move along. Hope you all enjoy!

taglist: @literatureluster

[ghostoffuturespast]

Shimmer & Shine

Dear @shimmer-like-agirl,

I don't know if you remember last May. I sent you an ask for one of those word prompt games. Which for the life of me, I can't find the actual list for. (Thank you, tumblr search function. You barely work when I need you to.)

Now, I don't begrudge you for not doing the one I asked, but you need to know that you not doing the one I asked has literally been sitting with me for the past eight months. This whole time. It's been on my mind. Your own namesake! Took me a while, but I just couldn't let that go.

Anyway, I wrote this little number for you, friend. Hope you don't mind I took ya girl for a little spin without asking. 🧡👻

Read below or on AO3.

Chin cupped in one palm and free fingers entwined around the stem of her wine glass, Darisha sighed. Despite the abysmal amount of wintry rain pouring down outside, the club was boisterously packed. And, even though the weather wasn’t doing her curls any favors, she should have been thrilled at the full house for this evening’s show. However, Darisha’s mood was scraping the bottom of the barrel and even the effervescent bubbly of her sparkling white wine wasn’t enough to lift her spirits. 

Perhaps she was pouting. Maybe a little too much. But it was hard not to when the one person you wanted to be there wasn’t. Sighing again, she picked at the shimmer of purple sequins lining the hem of her cocktail dress before swirling her glass, tipping it back, and finishing off the last of her drink. 

Her time probably would’ve been better spent warming up in her dressing room and not worrying about it. After all, it wasn’t his fault that something important had come up. Wasn’t his fault that he’d been slammed with cases all week. And wasn’t his fault that she had insisted it was fine before he’d given her a quick kiss and swept out the door with those long strides of his. 

But saying and knowing were two different things. And it was just one of those nights. When doubt insisted on cuddling up next to you.

Amethyst eyes scanned the crowd, but only focused on the empty seat next to her.

A murmur of excitement rippled through the club as the house lights dimmed and the band filed out. The show wasn’t about to stop for her disappointment. Darisha took that as her cue to vacate her seat at the bar and drag her ass to the stage, the clack of her heels solitary as she walked across the floor.

The musicians made a business of settling themselves in, making last minute adjustments to mics and instruments; the quiet rattle of cymbals, the low pluck of strings, the test of keys. Darisha fiddled with the cable running down her microphone stand, even though it didn’t need it. Swiped the imaginary dust off the satin of her skirt, even though there wasn't a speck on it. Blinking the brilliance of the stage lights off her lashes, she made introductions to the backlit faces of the crowd and took a deep breath.

Let the sultry balm of song take over.

The music soothed her heart, took the edge off the loneliness. 

But it was a rest, a moment between numbers, that lifted her heart. Truly made it soar.

Darisha caught a glimpse of him when the stage lights transitioned. When the blinding glare of the lights softened to reveal what was behind the partition of that invisible curtain. He’d squeezed himself in at the back corner of the bar, the collar and shoulders of his coat drenched from the rain. The bartender handed him a beer. They exchanged a few jovial words before he took a sip and looked up, caught her eye and made her heart skip a beat.

River beamed at her. A brilliant smile.

One that helped her shine.

Needless to say, after the show, her heels were a lot more excited to get off the stage than they had been to get on.

Darisha practically threw herself at River, not caring about the damp still on his coat. The hug was worth it. “Thought you weren’t gonna make it?” 

He squeezed her back. “Managed to wrap up early.” And pulled her into the sweetest of kisses before parting to whisper in her ear. “Wouldn’t miss you for the world, Darisha. Not if I can help it. Love you, babe.”

“I love you too.” She grinned up at him and made a futile attempt to fix the wet fluff of his collar. “Even if you're a little too fashionably late sometimes.”

“Well, I can see about making it up to you. Made sure there was only one name on my calendar for the rest of the evening… Might’ve even bought an extra bottle of wine.” River winked at her. “I’m all yours.” 

“Sounds like a deal. Let me grab my coat and let’s get out of here.”

They walked to the dressing rooms, hand in hand.

The door to the alley creaked open and shut just the same. The two of them watched as the rain poured down, sheets cascading off the awning overhead while slips of neon reflected off the puddles that had gathered in the asphalt. Sparkling drops of iridescence amongst the grime and grit.

Darisha should’ve worn a warmer coat. Perhaps a longer dress. Icy air pricked at her knees and made her shiver. But then there was an arm around her, River tucking her into his side to share some of his warmth. She leaned into him, sighing content as their breaths curled with one another in the cold.   

Worth it.

“I can bring the truck around.” River offered.

She considered for a moment. “While I appreciate the thought, I’ve spent enough of the evening alone without you. We’ll make a break for it.” 

“In your nice heels?”

“Mhmm.”

“How about a piggy back ride then?”

“Not very dignified in this dress.” She reached down to clasp his hand, tugging him forward and smiling over her shoulder. “Trust me, you’re worth way more than these shoes. Keep up, will you?”

“You don’t even know where the trucks parked at.”

She’d do it. Maybe with some reluctance. But she’d trade her entire wardrobe just to hear the music of his voice. She’d certainly, at least, brave the weather.  

Darisha got a head start. River laughed.

And they both dashed out onto the streets together, hand in hand through the shimmer of winter rain.

[lenawin4]

this is really random but i think a fic where jongho and doil interact as future brothers in law would be so funny (you don't have to write it obviously but the scenario is so hilarious to me). one is so soft and unassuming and the other is intense and guarded bcjfjfjf the future Oh family get-togethers would be entertaining as hell

Do-il & Jong-ho interactions would be SO gold and very adorable... like can you imagine a second season where In-joo & In-kyung just run around completely unhinged and their boyfriends just follow them everywhere trying to calm them down??

I'm replying to these like almost a month later, but I'm still mentally here even after the drama ended like ~1.5 months ago... glad y'all are still clowning with me

anyway this inspired me to write something extremely self-indulgent and fluffy, it's on ao3 and down below

Do-il knew his way around New York City very well. When he attended Wharton, he drove two hours back and forth for meetings, the occasional party, and scheduled, solitary escapes he needed for his sanity. He knew every business, bar, and back-alley like the back of his hand. This knowledge, unfortunately, was deemed not useful enough to In-kyung and In-joo, which was why he was sitting on a bench in Central Park with Ha Jong-ho at eleven in the evening.

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon.” Jong-ho had that nervous look on his face and a tic of adjusting his glasses that told him that he didn’t actually believe that. “It’s only been fifteen minutes.”

He was wrong. Do-il’s watch told him it had been seventeen minutes and forty-three seconds since the sisters had told them to wait here while they bought food at some hot dog stand In-joo had heard of from social media. Do-il had no idea that she wanted to try it, because if he did, he would have factored this potential distraction into his plan, and he would have taken her somewhere else.

“So.” Jong-ho fiddled with a loose strand on his pants. “How have you been?”

Eighteen minutes was a long time for strained small talk, and they had already been through the usual topics of conversation when he and In-joo arrived in New York for the week. So, now, they were left with… whatever they were to each other. Future-in-laws? Do-il didn’t want to put too much hope in that, if tonight wasn’t going to go well.

“Just fine.”

“You two were in Greece last month?”

“Seoul,” he corrected. “We switch back and forth.” They spent the weekends together, making their apartments homes, and after two years, there were pieces of her at his place, and traces of him at hers. There was a terrifying amount of comfortability in it, and it didn’t terrify him until he realized he was somewhat content.

“Is it hard, going back and forth?”

It was harder to have this conversation, with Jong-ho actually expecting him to give honest responses. He shrugged and checked his watch. Twenty minutes and counting.

“I wouldn’t like being away from In-kyung every week. I tried forgetting about her for a while, but that didn’t work out.”

“Jong-ho, it’s not that difficult. I’ve lived alone my whole life.”

“Well, that’s why it’s hard now. Because you know what it’s like to have somebody in your life.”

Do-il glared at him. Jong-ho scratched the back of his neck and muttered a half-apology, half-complaint that trailed off into nothing. But the pause Do-il was granted was too brief to be classified as nothing.

“You know,” Jong-ho started, “you’re very different from the person I heard about in college.”

Do-il sighed. “Really?” He tried his hardest to sound interested, but Jong-ho’s side-eye informed him his attempt at enthusiasm was unsuccessful.

“All I heard about was a criminal who got his girlfriend killed and spoke Russian to impress the professors.” He tilted his head, allowing him this, as the descriptions were fairly accurate. “But now that I know you, and I see how you treat In-joo, I can see what kind of person you are.”

Someone who only cares about money. Do-il smiled, and remembered what In-joo thought about him now: “I know what kind of person you are,” she told him once. “You’re someone who cares about me.”

It was irritating that with a small amount of honesty came an infinite amount of transparency, and suddenly, Do-il found himself being seen through by people like Jong-ho. People who never had to lie their way out of anything. Unfortunately, these people were the most truthful, and a voice, In-joo’s voice, asked him to meet his truth with sincerity.

“Sometimes, the distance does make me unhappy,” he admitted, and tapped his watch again. It was fifteen minutes to Christmas, and it reminded him of why he was only somewhat content after the years of stealing weekends in Seoul and Greece and the US. He wanted more — when he was in Greece, he wanted the pieces of her to ligate and complete him, but the only way that was possible was with her presence. He wanted one life with her, not this delicate balance of hers and his; he wanted everything to be theirs.

When they decided to come to New York for the holidays, and he and In-joo talked about flight plans and getting off work and picking out souvenirs for In-hye and Hyo-rin, the only word in his mind was domesticity. Domesticity, and with the thought came the desire for commitment. The next day when In-joo went to work, he went to the most expensive jewelry store in Seoul and bought a ring. Maybe when she was a child, she had passed by the store and wanted that same ring, the way she wanted a winter coat or a birthday dress.

Then the question was where in New York. In front of the Statue of Liberty? Not pretty enough. On top of the Empire State Building? That was an option, but In-joo liked gardens, despite their shared aversion to orchids, so he wanted it to be in the park. He’d have to figure something out quickly if he was going to get this done in the best place for her.

“Jong-ho, I think I need your help with something.” He reached into his pocket and although he had kept his hand there all day, and he knew he was about to open up to some guy from college, his heart jolted when his fingers closed around the box.

He showed it to Jong-ho. His eyes bugged out and he gaped at him, mouth opening and closing like a drowning fish. This was why he never told anyone any secrets. “You cannot say anything.”

“Uh, um — ”

“This is supposed to happen at Christmas, which is in ten minutes, and In-joo still isn’t back yet. Can you please distract In-kyung and tell In-joo to meet me here?”

“I mean, this is such short notice, and maybe I’ll just take In-kyung and run away?”

“If you act suspicious and throw this off, I’m going to tell In-kyung you ruined her sister’s proposal.”

“Understood.”

That worked well. If anyone threatened Do-il with In-joo’s wrath, he would cave immediately, too.

Finally, Do-il had some silence to prepare for his next moments. They had discussed marriage in the beginning of their relationship, when they were both unsure of what the other expected. They’d seen their parents’ marriages fall apart because of circumstance and tragedy, but they had also seen them reunite and turn back to love after everything. For them, it was always a someday, maybe. He found himself thinking about it more often than not, these days. When his mind wouldn’t rest and millions of plans began to form like constellations, there was no stopping Do-il.

From across the park, someone shouted his name. He looked upwards to find In-joo standing near a lamppost, smiling at him before breaking off into a run, leaving empty footsteps in the snow. Sudden panic passed through him like a shiver — he cataloged where everything was — the ring in his pocket, the white ground where he would kneel, the steps where she would be standing —

She crashed into him, arms around his sides. “Do-il-ah, In-kyung and I almost got lost, and then Jong-ho came to find us. Then he stole In-kyung away.”

“So, now you’re stuck with me?” She said yes, like it was a bad thing, but the light on her face spelled out happiness. “You didn’t get your hot dog.”

“We can always come back tomorrow.”

“I thought we were staying in tomorrow before our flight?”

She frowned and insisted, “We’ll come back tomorrow; who knows when we’ll be here next?”

“I’ll take you back here anytime you want.”

“I know that,” In-joo said, “but it depends how busy we are.”

“Okay,” Do-il said, to say anything to mask the way her casual trust still made him flustered, after all these years. He could never argue with her, not when she talked about them as a pair, like it was a guarantee that he would be where she was, wherever she decided to go. This really wasn’t going to plan, was it? He was the one who was supposed to be the one with all the lines, but In-joo was emptying his mind of any fully-formed thoughts.

He pulled them towards the steps nearing the bridge of the Shakespeare Garden. Two minutes to midnight, and she was holding his left hand, while his right hand had made a permanent home in his pocket.

“There’s a garden here,” he said. “Do you want to see it?”

“Look at those.” She pointed to the daffodils near the entrance. “They’re so pretty.”

“Those are amsonias next to them. They usually plant them together because they help the other one grow throughout different seasons.”

“Like partners.”

Of course, she understood immediately.

Midnight — he let go of her hand and knelt like a knight swearing honor to his king. It was colder than he expected. “Merry Christmas, Oh In-joo,” he said. He saw her thoughts and expectations connect, eyes frozen on the open box in his hands, hands coming up to cover her mouth. “I never thought I needed a partner. I never thought I would be able to have one, to support me, to help me grow. But now, I know, I am fuller, happier, and a better man with you. I want to do the same for you. Will you let me?”

“Yes. Of course, yes. I’ll tell you why.” She wiped happy tears off her cheek and held her hand out for him to claim. The ring slid on, and she released a giggle. She scrunched her nose at him and said, “That was a better metaphor than saying that you’re a horse.”

This was a complaint he had heard many times. “Is saying that I’m a flower really any better?”

“No, but don’t worry about it. You already do the same for me.” She pulled him closer, and her lips pressed against his neck. She muttered against his skin, “I am fuller.”

A kiss to his cheek. “I am happier.”

Another to his lips, and he felt complete. “I am a better woman with you. You are my partner, in all but name, and I would be happy to change that.”

A distant cheering broke another kiss, and they separated to see two nosy people filming their scene from the bench he and Jong-ho had been stranded on. “Congratulations, In-joo-unnie!”

Suddenly, they became four grown adults yelling in the middle of the park like obnoxious teenagers. “There are two people who got engaged, you know.”

“If you ever hurt my sister, you’ll never see the light of day again.”

“We’ve been together for two years; isn’t this warning a little late?”

Jong-ho stopped recording, and they ran closer. In-kyung squealed and hugged In-joo, sweeping her away from him. Jong-ho stood a bit awkwardly, like he was scared to say what he was most certainly going to come out of his mouth anyway.

“Spit it out while I’m in a good mood.”

“A thank you would be nice?”

He rolled his eyes and patted him on the back. “Thank you, Jong-ho.”

He beamed back. “No problem, brother-in-law.”

[jumblejen]

We Were Always Going to End Up Together

Suptober 22, Day 28: Animal

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42237885/chapters/117106816

(Or read from the beginning: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42237885/chapters/106051008)

Dean and Cas ended up moving into a two-story house, five bedrooms and two full baths, a decent basement and a gorgeous kitchen. It was closer to Bobby’s garage than the farmhouse, but still outside of the hustle and bustle of town, on the dead end of a quiet street with the right amount land that Cas could play gardener instead of worrying about being a farmer. While Dean had been the one to spot it as he endlessly scrolled the local online listings. Gabriel took credit for it anyway as he had helped complete the sale of the farmhouse so that the timing lined up for the new house to be even more perfect. Cas and Dean let him have the credit, since they cared more about how much they both loved the property than whatever story Gabriel spun.

In the few months since the blowup with Sam, Dean had made some kind of peace with their falling out. He’d shed almost all of the guilt and accepted it had been all things that needed to be said, and he’d adjusted to not having Sam be part of his daily life. Dean had agonized over how to tell Sam about the fact that he’d left both the apartment and the farmhouse without making it seem like all was forgiven, until Jo had the simplest suggestion of mailing Sam a postcard with the new info. Dean still hadn’t heard anything from Sam, and he hadn’t blocked his number or anything. But a postcard said ‘here is information you should have’ but not ‘I am opening up the lines of communication as if nothing happened’. Dean picked out the blandest postcard he could find and scrawled the new address, ‘FYI’ and his name before mailing it. Never let it be said that Dean cut his brother off or left him to think Dean had just skipped town or something.

It was June before they knew it, settling into the new place and getting used to the changes to their routines. Overall, moving in together hadn’t created any giant waves in their relationship. Dean relished curling up in bed every night with Cas. They were steadily unpacking and deciding what to do with all the bedrooms. While there were five bedrooms, most of them weren’t particularly large. The biggest they used as their own bedroom, of course. It was on the ground floor with an en suite bathroom and a shower big enough for two. They set aside one room as a permanent guest room for anyone who needed to crash there for a night. Another room became an office for Cas to use on his online projects or whatever he was working on. The others they weren’t immediately sure about what to do with, so they became de facto storage so they weren’t constantly surrounded by boxes in the other areas of the house.

The official first day of summer was rapidly approaching, though still a couple of weeks away. Dean was still getting used to the area. The new place was in a different enough part of town that he was still working on figuring out the best store for produce and meat, the best takeout, the best shop for last-minute necessities, the best baked goods (especially pie). Dean was enjoying cooking more and really making the kitchen a space he could work comfortably in. His apartment kitchen had been dismally small, and the farmhouse had really been too much Cas’ for Dean to feel like he could do whatever he wanted. Cas had made it clear in the new place that he very much on board with Dean taking charge of that space. It was quickly becoming his favorite room to unwind in after work.

At the local grocery store, Dean was comparing the relative appeal of a head of broccoli versus a head of cauliflower when he heard a soft “Oh” behind him. Dean looked up to find an awkward Sam nervously fiddling with the basket over his arm, clearly unsure if he should stay or go. Dean met Sam’s eyes evenly, his expression neutral.

Sam cleared his throat. “Uh. Hi. Dean, hi. It��s uh… it’s good to see you, man.”

“Sam,” returned Dean.

“So I, uh, was surprised to see you on this side of town. I mean, I didn’t expect…”

“Cas and I bought a place near here. I sent you my new address.”

“Yeah, I got the postcard. Just didn’t really put it together I guess.”

“Okay.” Dean decided on not deciding and placed both heads in his cart. They could have them together or on separate days. He still hadn’t heard an apology from Sam though, and while he’d mellowed about the fight itself, he hadn’t forgotten it at all. He shook his head and started to push his cart farther down the wall of veggies.

“Dean, wait. Please.”

Dean stopped and looked at Sam, not saying anything.

“I’m sorry Dean,” Sam said in a rush. “I’ve thought about picking up the phone or coming by Bobby’s so many times. And I could never figure out what I’d say so I chickened out every time. And I still don’t really know what to say exactly. But…I am sorry Dean. I was such an ass and I should never have said any of it. I shouldn’t have even entertained those thoughts. They were garbage. You never deserved that. Neither did Cas. And if I ever have the chance, I will definitely apologize to him. Please. I hope you can believe me. I’m so sorry Dean.”

Dean didn’t respond immediately. It was almost a shock to have Sam actually say the words after all these months. “Thank you,” he managed. “Just to clarify. What about Benny?”

Sam flushed and he looked at his feet. “I’m sorry for Benny too. I can’t say I’m ever gonna love the guy, but looking back. He never actually did anything wrong, did he?”

“No he didn’t.”

Sam nodded. “I can’t ever fix what I did, you know, with Benny the first time. I’d take it back, I really would. And Cas…I just don’t know what to say. Him just existing seemed to be enough for me to decide dating him was a bad idea.”

“Looks like you’ve been thinking about things.”

“I have Dean. And I’m still working on it.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “Not sure you know this, but I saw Gabriel in March and he, uh. Well, he said some things that really made me reassess where I was coming from.”

“I heard.”

“Good. I guess. Uh, yeah.”

The two of them stood awkwardly, Dean attempting to adjust to the fact that Sam actually seemed to understand the depths to which he messed up. It wasn’t a magic spell though; just say ‘I’m sorry’ and all is back to normal. This was just the first step before he could even consider forgiving Sam and inviting him back into his life. Even then, Dean doubted things could ever go back the way they had been before. He wasn’t sure he wanted that at this point.

“Look, Dean. It really is good to see you. And I’m sorry I didn’t reach out before randomly running into you. I apologize for my outburst at the Roadhouse. I apologize for how I’ve treated you, especially at brunch in January, and hassling you about your job. I was wrong. Really wrong. And I know you always took care of me and all, but I guess I hadn’t thought about how that impacted you. It’s a thing I took for granted, and that’s not okay. And I want to make it up to you, and Cas and… and Benny. But…can we try? To reconnect, I mean? I don’t expect things to be the same, but I miss you. You’re my big brother.”

Dean considered for a minute. It was easy to see the six-year-old saying sorry for getting so muddy Dean would have to see if he could find enough quarters to wash his clothes before school the next day, even though Sam knew Dean was supposed to be studying and the laundromat closed in an hour. But that was the thoughtlessness of children. It was also easy to see the man who belittled and shouted at him for choices that Dean made freely and would make again. It was hard to reconcile the fact that they were the same person, and yet it was painfully absolute that they were, and that Sam was a grown-up, and that Dean didn’t deserve any of it.

But Sam was still Dean’s brother, and he seemed to be making a genuine effort. “You can text me. If you want.”

“Great.”

“But it isn’t like it was. And I’m not promising anything. But. Yeah, man. We can try.”

 “Great. Well, then. Bye, Dean.” Sam walked away, not looking back.

Dean followed him with his eyes as he put the basket back in the stack and exited the store. He hadn’t bought anything. Thinking about it, Sam hadn’t had anything in the basket to begin with. And why on earth was Sam all the way on this side of town? There were plenty of places to get groceries nearer his own place.

Dean turned his focus back to the produce section. He still needed potatoes and onions and those little red and yellow peppers that Cas liked to snack on endlessly. And carrots for the pot roast. And the roast for the pot roast. He pushed his cart in somewhat of a daze in search of root vegetables.

Then it hit him and he stopped in his tracks. Sam hadn’t accidentally run into him here. Sam had seen Baby in the parking lot and decided to come in and talk to Dean. Maybe he’d been haunting this side of town, hoping to see him. Maybe he’d been stalking Dean like an animal. Maybe it was pure coincidence. But either way, Dean hadn’t been visible from the doors when Sam walked in. There was nothing in the basket. And as much as Sam said he didn’t manufacture their meeting, Dean didn’t buy it. He knew that kid too well.

Dean smiled. Well, that actually made things a little better if Sam had forced this thing. It meant he had found the courage to do the right thing and apologize. He was impressed that the only thing Sam had asked for was for Dean to allow him to stay in touch. That was small, and nothing like the conditions Sam had tried to insist on with his apologies in the past. His brother might actually be trying to change; might be trying to be a better person who Dean could have in his life. He couldn’t wait to tell Cas.

[little-bloodied-angel]

(I'm sorry to say I don't know who the artist for the genderbend is, because I was looking for the actual screenshot and I came upon that. I just saved it for personal reference because it's lovely, not to repost it anywhere, but if anybody knows who did this please let me know so I can credit them. I didn't remove any watermarks either, it didn't have one.)

And now for @pixie-skull 's actual edit... You guys, you have no idea how much effort he put into this. We had discussed it as a possibility a few months back, but we knew he had to be in the right mindset because of just how much work it was.

So a couple days ago he told me he was up for the challenge, and boy was it amazing to slowly see it come to life over the course of several hours. This has so many difficult and fiddly bits and pieces and it came out absolutely incredible.

Skully found all the right body poses and facial expressions, and not only headswapped two of the girls but actually put Odette's face on a completely different shot of her head, too, so it would be facing the right way. I can only imagine the tweaking that alone took. He not only recolored Jane's top for Chel-as-Duke, he refitted it to her body shape as well, and did so at least four times until we were satisfied with how her silhouette looked. He also altered her hairstyle seamlessly and added a bow that, as you can see, was situated totally differently in the original image, and seamlessly erased her original bracelets and earrings, reconstructed her wrists and ears, and then added those new earrings from Anastasia that must've been a nightmare to crop.

Ariel-as-McNamara has had her entire outfit recolored, including adding lineart to the heart on her t-shirt. That's a skirt from the Sailor Moon 90s anime, and it took quite a bit of fiddling with it and with the body itself to make it the right size. The head is swapped, the hair and skin recolored, the bow added because she isn't wearing one in that scene, parts of her neck, hair and the top of her head had to be redrawn in because they were cut weirdly. Even her lipstick is recolored just because I didn't feel like Ariel's original dark red suited this. And when I wanted to add a reference to her father's diamond business and we couldn't find any, Skully out and out made her bracelet and hoop earring from scratch using only the sparkly texture from the beauty pageant in Swan Princess.

And then our supreme Queen Bee. I seriously thought I was going to drive Skully mad with Odette-as-Chandler but he was so incredibly patient with me. And so hard-working. Even just finding the starting pose of Holli's body and clothes took a few tries, and Odette's facial expression needed even more. Then when we found the right one it was at such a weird angle vs her body that I genuinely thought we wouldn't be able to use it. I cannot imagine how much tweaking it required for him to make it look like it has always been like that on her face: check the difference between the screenshots. Then of course he set it on Holli's body, adjusted the skintone, redrew most of her hair, colorswapped the lipstick, added the locket. And basically reconstructed Holli's entire right arm while he was at it since it's cropped weird in the original screenshot. It was my idea to make Holli's dress look like a two-piece, which came out super well but looked plain in comparison to the other two. So Skully hand-drew the plaid pattern on the skirt after not finding one to grab. The bracelets, which iirc are also hand-drawn, were a brilliant last minute touch he came up with. I had wanted the pearl earrings and the gold locket, so he made a matching bracelet for each. Both for this outfit and Duke's, the belt is drawn by hand, but he grabbed that ridiculously tiny buckle and placed it on them so they would look more realistically done. I wouldn't even be able to crop the buckle in the first place.

We collectively decided to give them bows instead of scrunchies because it is a very 80s look and the scrunchies wouldn't be seen as easily or go as well with their hairstyles. But when he added Chandler's, we thought it looked a little plain, just the same as the other two, and I wondered if it would be possible to make it sparkly using the texture of Jessica's dress to make it stand out. Not only did Skully achieve this perfectly, he also came up with adding the little "tails" of the ribbon to make it look even more special. Look at that result.

But what makes all of that even more amazing is that all of Odette-as-Chandler's accessories came AFTER what I would consider one of the pieces de résistance if not the most difficult part of this entire edit. No matter how I looked at it, Holli's original dress with nothing added to it seemed way too simple and almost plain on the top part. Plus, Chandler's jackets are a staple in her wardrobe, both in the movie and then the musical, but especially so in the musical, which this edit is more based on. I genuinely had no idea of what we could do or if there was anything we could do at all.

So Skully, the absolute madman, decided to do that entire cardigan FROM SCRATCH. I gave some ideas as to how it would fall on her body and how open it could be to showcase the tiny waist and big bust that we had chosen the body for, but it was Skully that did a million and a half tiny adjustments to get it looking perfect. Then he added lineart, too. Btw, both Chel's dress and Ariel's hair recolor needed new lines and lineart that he also added himself.

It took at least an hour to do that cardigan alone, and when I tell you my jaw was on the floor I'm not exaggerating. I didn't even think you could do that with the app he uses. Did I mention he did all this ON HIS PHONE?

And after the Cardigan From Hell was done, which I'm reasonably sure gave him an honest-to-god migraine, he still had the patience to listen to me about all the tiny details about the accessories and come up with the ideas I've mentioned above with the bracelets, the tails of the bow and so on, and even do some final fine-tuning on the other two.

This took almost 8 hours and he did it in one go. And his primary motivation was to cheer the both of us up because we're both going through a rough patch. All those months ago when I first had the idea for the Heathers edit I could not have imagined that it would look like this.

All in all Skully is insanely patient, talented and hardworking, and I frankly can only imagine what his stuff is going to look like as he continues practicing. He's also a wonderful friend to me, not just for doing this and other edits to cheer me up but for not throttling me during the collab process as I was talking about each little detail xD

I'm frankly amazed every time I look at this. Funnily enough, he decided to do this shortly after that incredibly rude anon a few days back that threw an impressive tantrum and that insulted both his work and the fact that he's transgender for absolutely no reason other than coming across this incredibly creepy and stalkery towards another editor, whose attention Anon apparently decided Skully didn't deserve. He was upset about it for a bit, and when he approached me to do this edit, he said he both wanted to challenge himself and to not let a person like that steal away his passion. Well, would you look at that. Anon can kindly eat their heart out, and it's pretty clear to me that as he keeps practicing, the sky's the limit to what Skully either can do already or will learn to do.

I'm humbled to have been a part of this and incredibly happy I ever sent you that first message and we became fast friends. You were absolutely right in what you said, and look at this stunning result.

Here's to many more edits and to seeing you grow. 💜

224th edit and with help by @little-bloodied-angel I give you peeps of the world, this edit. BD Please note it is based off the musical, which was a film.

I do know though rewatch this movie (here a link the trailer) and look into listening the music from the musical. I just know the movie as my celebrity crush Winona Ryder in it. :D

I am stunned to think I made this, as this may be my most detailed edit to date. Please note again @little-bloodied-angel did help by suggestions and to review each huge step. Often I am confident on my ability to bring to life an edit request, but this one I know I needed to have another pair of eyes to review and this came out so well. =D By the way @airasora I now understand way too well the pain of editing a light blond haired character who is white, and trying to avoid making the flesh and hair blend in with each other. XD

Not sure who to credit, as @little-bloodied-angel gave me this for hair color reference, but awesome gender-bend of Cinderella. =D

[aquagustd]

angels like you - JJK | M

↣ show up and dance, that’s what you expected to happen on another insipid Saturday evening that was stolen by your college, what you didn’t expect was a dance partner who was chosen for you without your knowledge.

read another social experiment here ⚘

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: smut, fluff, s2l

word count: 3.8K

warnings/tags: college au, social experiment, dancer!jungkook, dancer!reader, strong language, buff JK aha, explicit smut- dirty talk, biting/scratching, hickeys, car sex, grinding, clit pinching, fingering, edging, pussy slapping, hair pulling, slight overstimulation, riding, protected sex

a/n: just because I keep thinking about social experiments that’ll never happen irl & Jungkook’s abs | The song they dance to is Sin City by Chrishan

∞

Shoving the double doors open, you halt in your step when the sight of a huge partition at the center of the hall greets you.

You haven’t been here for years, but you know well enough that the partition was Mrs. Ahn’s idea.

Sighing, you adjust your gym bag strap on your shoulder and make your way toward Hoseok, whose excitement causes you to groan internally. You set your bag on the bench against the wall and cross your legs as you sit next to him on the cool flooring, loud chatter drowning out any other sound.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” he beams, nudging your shoulder, “are you excited for today?”

Scrubbing your palms down your face, you rest your elbows on your thighs and give him an unenthusiastic nod.

He clicks his tongue, arms on your shoulders, “come on. It’s gonna be fun.”

“Well,” you shrug off his hold, “it’ll be fun for you because you actually liked your routine. I hate mine.”

“You’ve being saying that for the past two weeks, but you literally kill the dance.”

You roll your eyes, “yeah, but that doesn’t mean I like it.”

He taps his chin, “what don’t you like about it?”

“I don’t know,” you fiddle with your shoelaces, “it just feels incomplete. Not the routine…But like, the dance.”

You wave your arms in the air when he shoots you a confused look.

“I don’t know how to explain it!”

This dumb experiment is what caused your recent moods to be so shitty and out of control. Everybody else in your class received their own, fun, show-stopping choreography while you were stuck to practice a mediocre routine that felt…unfinished. The isolations and pauses annoyed you. While Hoseok said that everyone’s routine is different, that didn’t stop you from asking Mrs. Ahn for a new one. She had declined, obviously.

“I wonder if they have the tracks ready,” Hoseok whispers, you follow his line of sight to the DJ on the other end of the stage.

Adding to your irritation, the song that was chosen for you. If you hear it one more time, you might puke all over the stage.

It’s sexy, any other day, you would’ve loved it, but it just added to the feeling that the dance might be lacking.

You have no idea whether this counts toward your portfolio, so you couldn’t make any alterations, or add your own spice to the dance.

“What’s with the partition?”

Hoseok whips his head around to stare at the white, immovable barrier, some students lean against it as they chat.

“I think there’s other students on the other side.”

You narrow your eyes at him, mouth in a frown, “why would they separate us?”

He shrugs, still eyeing the large wall that starts at the edge of the stage and ends at the back of the hall.

“Must be part of the experiment.”

This whole experiment that Mrs. Ahn has been raging on about for a month and a half, without providing proper details, sets an uncomfortable stir in your gut.

Given a song and a routine, you were to prepare for an audience.

The problem is that you have no idea who might be sitting in that audience, who you have the potential to disappoint. A shiver courses along the length of your spine, clenching your fists before going through the insipid routine in your head.

After another ten minutes of speculation between you and Hoseok, Mrs. Ahn emerges from behind the curtain on the stage as it draws open, wearing a hideous poncho.

“Good evening students!”

She receives a phlegmatic response which causes her eyebrows to furrow, although her smile doesn’t falter.

“Ah. I know this must seem like a waste of a Saturday night but I promise, it’ll be worth it.”

Your scoff earns a giggle from Hoseok.

When you acknowledge that she’s speaking to both sides of the partition, you surmise that Hoseok was correct.

“Alright, I know me and Mr. Choi,” she smiles at the unfamiliar man who stands behind the DJ, wearing a navy-blue tracksuit, “haven’t given you much to work with, but today’s the day. Why have you been working so hard these past few weeks?”

The students around you straighten their posture, some wearing grins that display their alacrity while others sport the same expression you’ve had for the past hour.

She clears her throat, squinting at the paper supposed Mr. Choi hands her.

“Okay,” she begins, “the aim of this social experiment is to prove the different bonds that can be formed through dance.”

You poke Hoseok’s shoulder, “hasn’t this been done before?”

He hushes you with a dismissive wag of his finger, fixated on Mrs. Ahn as she continues to read.

“But, we’ve given each of you different routines. What you don’t know is that we’ve selected a partner from another college-“ she points to your side of the partition “-college A-“ then the other side “-college B.”

Her loud chuckle causes your heart rate to pick up, interest in the experiment building the more she speaks.

“Who has also been practicing your routine!”

You smack Hoseok’s arm, stomach twisting with nerves. He retaliates with a smack of his own, heart-shaped smile even brighter.

“Now, you must be wondering why this big hunk of plastic is splitting the hall into two. Well, we need to keep you separated until you perform your dance, where you meet and perform together for the first time! You know, so the results of the experiment aren’t affected.”

Hoseok pats your shoulder, “maybe what your dance needed was a partner.”

You blink, not given enough time to process his statement before Mrs. Ahn instructs everyone to warm-up before she starts calling people out to perform.

“Oh, and one more thing,” she grins, “after your performance, you’re free to stay and watch the others or head home. You must report back to me or Mr. Choi. Thank you and I hope you all have fun!”

Spinning around, you see Hoseok wiggling his eyebrows.

“Told you it might be fun.”

You shove his shoulder, rolling your neck and arms, “this was before you knew any of the secret partner shit.”

His head cocks to the side, “yeah, I just know things.”

It isn’t long before you’re all seated as Mrs. Ahn calls out a name from your college, then the other. You’ve seen Taehyung practice and you know what to expect from his dance, but the look of wonder on his face when he sees his partner, Park Jimin, for the first time, has more nerves fizzing. What would it be like when you see your partner? What would they be like? How would you dance together? Would you even dance together like how Taehyung and his partner seem to mesh into the movements?

By the end of their dance, you can tell that they’d be good friends, if the way Taehyung ruffles Jimin’s hair is any indication. They choose to watch the other students perform and disappear behind the partition, laughter surrounding them.

“Jung Hoseok.”

You pat Hoseok’s bum as he passes you, everyone cheering him on as he makes his way up the stairs and onto the stage, spring in his step as always.

“Lee Eunji.”

All the students fill the air with suggestive ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as they bow and the jaunty theme of their song begins.

Hoseok, being Hoseok, invites her closer to him as they dance, smiles splitting their faces with each of their snappy, practiced movements.

You’re smiling just as wide, thrilled to see him enjoying himself with a complete stranger, how their movements connect, bouncing in the air, sliding into each other.

“Go Hoseok!”

Cheeks beginning to ache, you slip back on the floor when the song comes to a close, palms burning with your applause.

“Would you like to stay and watch or are you heading out?”

Hoseok glances at Eunji, hands on his hips as he catches his breath.

She shakes her head, “we’re heading out.”

Everyone goes delirious, whoops shaking the hall as they disappear behind the curtain.

You’re impatient to hear about Hoseok’s new friend, it’s been a while since his last relationship. Mostly because it fucked him up, and to see him enjoy himself with someone new makes your heart soar.

Broken out of your thoughts, you throat goes dry when you hear your name being called, unfolding your legs as you pad along the wooden floor, corners of your mouth lifting when you see Mrs. Ahn waiting at the top of the stairs.

From the stage, you can see over twenty curious eyes blinking at you, half of them you don’t recognize.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

Clenching your fists, the same whoops cause your throat to constrict when you see your partner.

Black shorts and t-shirt, dark blue shirt draped over his broad shoulders, silver earrings, black hair, handsome.

Hot. That’s how you feel as he stands next to you on the stage. Chancing a glance, you catch sight of a dimple in his cheek as he sucks his lower lip into his mouth, bowing when he sees you looking at him.

For a millisecond, you’re rooted to the floor, palms sweaty, mind going blank as his gaze rakes down your figure, pausing on your thighs.

You have a reputation to uphold and as soon as the music starts, you’re swaying, unable to tear your gaze away from him as he mirrors your movements. He’s watching you too, from five feet away.

Sin Sin City wasn’t made for you Angels like you

Your fingers crawl across your chest, one leg in front of the other as you snap forward, eyes on his movements, just as fluid. He body rolls toward you, and for a split second you forget the next move but cover it up with a bounce of your leg. He seems to catch it, a smirk stretching over his lips as he moves even closer.

Oh you know it, oh you know it Oh you know it Right now

“I don’t bite.” He says, loud enough for you to hear, voice clear and smooth, like his movements, sending a shiver down your spine. Breath beginning to quicken, you spin around to be met with his firm chest. So, your dance was designed for a partner. Everybody’s dance was, but you only notice it when his hand slides under your arm, chest pressed against yours, hooded eyes watching you.

Take that off I just wanna see you Your legs so soft I had to be near you

You twirl around, hair flopping over your face as you bend over, ass out, feeling his legs press into the backs of your thighs. Did…Mrs. Ahn choreograph this dance? Snapping up, left arm in the air, his lips graze your ear as you sink back down, body held up by his, heat radiating off his chest.

Thoughts in mind, going so crazy I just wanna hear you

Too immersed in his scorching stare, you feel him lift you up by the shoulders, spinning you around and guiding your hips to the beat, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. His pink lips, doe eyes, silky skin are things you would never see in your wildest dreams. Who would’ve thought that you’d end up meeting a sexy man during this stupid experiment? Not you.

He slings an arm around your waist as you slide down, chin tipping up as you stare at him, light casting an ethereal glow to his face. When you come back up, his lips are a breath away from yours, parted, hot air blowing into your mouth. You gulp, suddenly remembering that you have an audience to please and bounding a few feet away from him, getting back in the groove, but his touch on your waist returns, reminding you that this dance is meant for two.

One touch on your body, what I’ve prepared for you Nothing will spare you

“Running away from me.” He rasps into your ear, eyes on the way your leg slips between his his, palms on his chest. “No,” you breathe, smoothing your hair over your shoulder as you back into him, lips curling into a smirk. He accepts your hips, grinding into you, strong thighs dragging along yours.

Pussy so wet, I feel the drip coming down Must be in Houston

His fingers patter along your back, bringing you flush to his chest as his hand slips under yours another time, legs sliding back as yours slide forward, grinning at each other. You’re lost in his warmth, adrenalin rushing through your veins when he sinks to his knees and crawls forward, jolting back up to stand a few feet behind you.

You close your eyes, you feel the rise, I go inside I’m shooting

Eyes on the crowd now, you repeat the movements from earlier, feeling his stare on your ass when you skip forward and jerk around, hands sliding over your hair and down your sides. You want to entertain him more than anyone else.

Sin City wasn’t made for you Angels like you

In one swift movement, you’re yanked into his chest again, stumbling a bit as the song ends. Your eyes follow his tongue as it skims across his lower lip, hands resting on his sides, trying to catch your breath, the cheers from the other students are background noise to your thundering heart.

Mrs. Ahn’s signature chuckle causes you to spring away from him, lip caught between your teeth.

“I think we all know your answer,” she winks.

Jungkook glances at you before his hand slips into yours, grabbing his backpack from the corner of the stage, then drags you down the stairs. You scoop up your gym bag, cheeks heating as you pass the other students who yell all kinds of obscene encouragement.

When you bound out of the hall, he’s pressing you into the notice board, head dipping as he speaks.

“I’m Jungkook,” he pants, blinking furiously.

“I know,” you smile, appreciating the glint in his eyes as he stares into yours, seeing a cute mole under bottom lip.

He lets go of your shoulders and scratches behind his ear, glancing at the car park that’s visible through the glass doors at the end of the hallway.

“Do you wanna go—”

“Yeah,” you shuffle down the hallway, hoping things aren’t turning awkward after your electrifying dance.

Wringing your hands, you point to your car that’s parked in the unlit corner of the lot, wondering how he got here.

He follows you wordlessly, chucking his bag in the backseat when you unlock your car.

You grip the steering wheel, staring into the darkness through the windshield, the lights from inside the hall do little to brighten up the area.

In your eighteen years of dancing, you’ve never felt that way, ever, when you danced with anyone. Maybe it was the song, maybe it was the routine itself, maybe it was just him. You don’t know. All you know is that he smells amazing as he presses his forehead to yours, cupping your cheeks, heart skipping a few beats.

“Is this okay?”

Skin erupting in a wave of goosebumps, sweat trickling down your neck, pussy clenching when your eyes meet, you nod, moaning with the first brush of his lips against yours, arms sliding up his toned shoulders to rest on the curves of his neck, breathing in his delicious scent. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss as his thumb rubs the skin below your ear, tongue slipping into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling away with a shaky sigh, “what the fuck was that.”

“I…” you begin, searching for the correct words as this man, who was a stranger only an hour ago, kisses down your neck, and you can’t bring yourself to stop him because it feels so good.

His eyebrows knit together, wet strands of hair pressing into your forehead, lips connecting once more, as if words are nothing compared to the sparking caresses, the drop your stomach does when he places his hands on your hips, lifting you up onto his lap.

“We just met and I feel…I feel—”

You rock your hips, his erection pressing into your core, moans mixing in the air when you do it again and again, soaking through the material of your leggings.

“Want you,” he chases your lips, hips jerking up, causing a fresh wave of arousal to soak your panties when you hear the whine in his voice.

Burying your face in his heated skin, you suckle on the junction between his neck and shoulder, windows fogging up with your heavy breaths, similar to the way lust jumbles any other thought, the knot building in your abdomen with each drag of his cock against your clit, nipping the skin as he grinds into you, hot breath hitting your ear.

“Fuck, if you keep doing that,” he grits, fingers twisting into your hair, a string of curses slipping from his lips as your hips work faster, “’m gonna cum.”

“Want you to cum,” you mewl, pussy clenching when your eyes lock, lips kiss-bitten and slick, the sparkle in his eyes illuminating the dim space.

His palms slide up your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh to pause your movements. His eyebrow jumps in question, corner of his mouth quirking up when you hiss as he snaps the band of your leggings.

“Yes,” you sigh, desperate for friction, whimpering when his hand dips into your panties, choosing to slide across your folds, gathering your slick on his fingers.

Your head lolls forward, colliding with his shoulder when his thumb nudges your clit, with his index and middle finger sinking into your heat, gasping out his name as he massages your walls, calloused pads of his fingers dragging along the ridges, his other hand rocking your hips into his palm, thumb rubbing tight circles on your throbbing bud.

He hooks his fingers on the fifth stroke and your pussy squeezes around his fingers, teeth piercing into your bottom lip, so close to the edge.

He places his index finger under your chin, tipping your head up, pupils blown, cheeks flushed.

“Gonna cum?”

You nod meekly, rutting into his hand, knowing your slick must be dripping down his fingers and the stickiness of his hand that rubs against your thigh proves it, blurting out how amazing his fingers feel, how hot you think he is, how good he smells.

His hand is back on your thigh, holding you in place as he fucks his fingers into you ruthlessly, moaning with you when you bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming out his name.

“Shit, so tight. Take my fingers so well,” he husks, and much to your dismay, removes his fingers from inside you, placing them flat on your clit, “can imagine how good you’ll feel bouncing on my cock.”

Eyes wide in shock, lips trembling, you bang a fist on his chest from having your orgasm ripped away, pussy clenching around nothing.

He taps your swollen folds twice, pinching your clit with his thumb and forefinger before landing two harsh smacks to your cunt, causing you to tremble, eyes glazing over.

The heavy outline of his cock catches your eye, fingers snaking down his side to squeeze it in your palm, relishing in the way his Adam’s apple bobs as his head hits the seat, mumbling out your name.

“Take it out.”

You don’t process his words until his eyes snap open, staring at you through his lashes.

Tugging on the band of his shorts, you pull it over his meaty thighs, salivating at the glistening tip of his thick cock, precum smeared along the head.

He cups your jaw, thumb pressing into your cheek as he reaches behind him with his other his hand, unzipping the front compartment of his backpack, producing a condom.

You’re stock still under his fiery gaze, firm grip on your jaw keeping your eyes on him as he rips open the condom packet with his teeth, spitting out the piece of foil that got into his mouth. That shouldn’t be hot, but here you are, pussy ready to be split open by his girthy cock that twitches when you lick your lips.

His eyes dart to your leggings and you scramble to pull it off your legs, struggling for a bit before he helps you, useless fabric being thrown in the back seat.

Eyes still on yours, he pushes your panties to the side, covering his fingers in your slick before popping the digits into his mouth, a whimper bubbles from your lips at the sight. He points to his cock with his big doe eyes, licking his fingers clean.

With shaky fingers, you grip the base of his cock and lift your hips over his length, slit positioned over the blunt tip, eyes watering as you sink down, loud moans echoing in the stuffy space.

Fully sheathed in your heat, he wraps his arms around your torso, bringing you into his chest as he pistons his hips, cock lodged deep inside you with each pleasurable drag.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he pecks the side of your head, speaking through gritted teeth as you lose yourself on his cock, bouncing weakly, ass rippling when your skin slaps against his.

Walls closing around his length, you jolt when he brushes that sensitive spot inside you, hands slipping into his hair as you chase your high for the second time tonight, clit rubbing against his pelvis, drenching his lap with your arousal.

“Fuck, bounce on my cock baby. Come on.”

Fulfilling his breathless request, you place your hands on his shoulders and lift your hips faster, spasming on each thrust, thighs burning, more sweat pooling under your shirt, nails forming crescent moons on his skin, groaning out his name when your abdomen knots impossibly tight.

When he tugs on your hair, massaging your scalp straight after to soothe the burn, teeth clamping down on your earlobe, you cum, seeing stars behind your lids, hips still working as you ride out your high, mouth hanging open in a silent moan, immersed in the burn, mind going hazy.

Cheek resting on his shoulder, you cry out as he continues to slide into your throbbing hole, laying limp in his hold as he spills into the condom, blurting out his own praises.

A satisfied sigh leaves your swollen lips, nuzzling into the soft material of his shirt. You never would’ve thought that tonight with end this way, with an attractive, beefy guy kissing the top of your head, sniffing through your hair.

Bodies stuck together, hissing when his cock slips out of you, he runs his palms down your back, index fingers resting in the dip. You could fall asleep in his warm embrace but the next thing he says has your eyes snapping open.

“Should we…report back now?”

a/n: please don’t feel shy to send in feedback, hearing your thoughts serve as motivation :)

⤺Masterlist

taglist: @ggukkieland @moonchild1 @mwitsmejk @fancycollectormoon @nglmrk @bex-92br @taeslarityy @helenazbmrskai @deliciouslydisturbed365 @sweetonkookieandtae

[titanicsimp]

Could you write some smut reader/Zeke/Levi? Btw the one reader/Zeke/Reiner/Porco was ✨✨✨🤤👀👀❤

I worked on this fic for a MONTH thanks to my fever brain <’3

Zeke Yeager x female!reader x Levi Ackerman

cw: threesome, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, creampies, backshot, double penetration, fingering, biting/marking, rough sex, clit slapping, face slapping (once), spit kink, very minor injury (cut on lip), slight angst

The scent of smoke fills your senses with every soft puff of breath he lets out along your neck, his lips trailing along it like you are made off of the nicotine he’s so addicted to. As his hands dip below the fabric of your shirt, you can’t help but wonder how you ended up here, meeting in the middle of the night in a lonely storage space, in the arms of a man who by all means should be the enemy.

When his lips find yours, you can taste the answer on them. You had been lonely, so lonely. The man you loved had long made it clear he had no intention of being with you, he barely spared you a glance most of the time. When you had confessed how you felt, he had flat out rejected you, no reason had been specified outside ‘I can’t.’. Zeke was the exact opposite of him, not only as a person but also in his interest in you. He didn’t avert his eyes when you passed by, he didn’t give you cold stares, instead he gazed at you with lust without any hesitation or shame.

Was it weak of you to give in to this morally corrupt man so easily? Probably, but you were sick of spending the cold nights on Paradis alone, and Zeke was more than willing to keep you company.

Zeke’s touch feels wrong, yet it awakens a fire inside of you. Every spot he touches seems to tingle with anticipation, and you sigh into the kiss. Had it been so long?

Too lost in your thoughts to hear the jiggling of the doorknob, you are unaware someone has just entered the room, the feeble lock having easily given in. By the time Zeke notices, his hand has already been snatched away from under your shirt, his normally great senses having been slowed by his arousal.

“Do I have to cut your hands off again, beast?!”

You look on in shock as Zeke’s hand is forced to his back, and a knife is brought to his throat. You recognize the voice instantly, you have spent too many years around him not to. “Levi!”

“You think you can assault one of my soldiers?! You think you can lay your dirty hands on her?!” Though you can’t see his expression from behind Zeke, his voice lets you know he’s furious.

Zeke huffs but doesn’t move, an irritated look on his face at the interruption. “I think you have the wrong impression here. This wasn’t my idea.” His tone is smug, provoking Levi to dig the blade into the skin of Zeke’s neck.

“He’s right!” You say quickly, your hands quivering by your side. Though you would prefer to just disappear at the moment, you need to speak up before it gets even further out of hand. Out of all people, why him?!

The knife retreats from Zeke’s throat, leaving a single scarlet droplet in its wake. His lips quirk up slightly into a smile, smug at the short freeze he had noticed from the man behind him.

You want to avert your eyes when Levi steps out of Zeke’s shadow, but you don’t want to be disrespectful, not more than you already were by messing around with the enemy anyway.

“What did you say?” Levi asks, steel eyes commanding you to repeat yourself.

Your throat feels dry out of nowhere as your gaze locks onto his. “I said that he’s right. What you saw was my idea, captain.”

His usual stoic expression twists to one of hurt for just a brief moment, disappearing within seconds. He regained his composure so quickly that you question whether you actually saw it or were just imagining it.

Levi returns his knife to its sheath, eyes burning holes into your form. “We’re leaving.”

You blink in confusion, looking from Zeke to Levi and back. “What? I know what Yeager has done, but I wasn’t aware that interpersonal relationships aren’t allowed, seeing how things were going with-“

“It’s not about that!” Levi barks out, making you flinch. You had seen him angry like this only a handful of times, and only in situations far worse than this.

Zeke comes closer to you, facing Levi with a shrug of his shoulders. “Seems like y/n wants to stay with me.”

This whole situation is growing more awkward by the minute. Normally you would go with Levi without a second thought, but now you found someone that desires you you don’t want to give it up that easily. The thought of spending another 6 years of your limited life alone makes you stand your ground.

“You can have her,” Levi says, causing your heart to plummet to your stomach.

“When I’m six feet under the ground.”

You stare at Levi. His expression and voice have calmed down, but his anger seems to roll off of him in waves. Should you be happy? More than likely this has nothing to do with you, and all with the promise he made to Erwin.

You fiddle with your skirt uneasily. Gods, how could you be doing this? What a betrayal to all who have fought and died by your side these past few years.

Zeke glances over to you, taking in your nervous form before sighing. “I’m not sure if it will wreck your little soldier, but I don’t mind sharing.”

If you weren’t absolutely frozen in shock, your jaw would drop to the floor. Your turbulent thoughts are instantly blown away by Zeke’s words, a whole new moral conflict arising. Heat rises to your cheeks at his suggestion, the word choice of ‘wreck’ making your knees embarrassingly weak.

Levi grits his teeth. “I must have knocked some threads loose last time we fought for you to even suggest such a thing.”

His rejection doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. He didn’t want to sleep with you when it was just you and him, so now with Zeke here? No chance.

Zeke takes off his glasses, examining them in the light of the lantern before polishing them on his sleeve. He’s practically oozing disinterest, which you are guessing is the point. “I understand. You don’t want to do anything that will leave you embarrassed.” He says.

Levi stares him down, but Zeke continues casually polishing his glasses. “What are you implying?”

You look at Zeke, shaking your head slightly. Just drop it, this is madness.

“I don’t think I need to tell you what I’m implying.” He sighs when Levi doesn’t say anything.

“Just stop!”

Their gazes both snap to you after you yell. Your fists are balled, form trembling slightly from embarrassment and adrenaline. Sure, the prospect is exciting, but it will never happen, and at this point, you are starting to feel humiliated over the continuous rejections from Levi.

“I’m leaving.” You tell them and start walking towards the door, adjusting your messy shirt on the way. Levi tries to grab your arm when you pass, but you slap his hand away. “Alone.”

You already have the doorknob in your hand when the wood of the door shakes with impact. Wide-eyed, you look at the boot that’s keeping the door shut. The owner of it gazes at you with a conflicted look. “If you want to stay with him, stay.” He spat out the word ‘him’ like it was poison on his tongue.

Your gaze travels up his form and to his face, confusion written all over yours. What is this pushing and pulling? Stay, leave, which is it?

“Y/n, come.” You look back, seeing Zeke beckoning you with open arms, his glasses back on his face.

You chew on your lips, glancing between the two men once again. Levi drops his gaze, avoiding your questioning eyes. Ah yes, that’s how it is, isn’t it? The previous moments were exactly that, moments, and they had passed now he had come back to his senses.

Slowly, your hand slips from the doorknob, and as it does you can sense Levi tensing up next to you. Not daring to look at him in fear of conflicting your heart any further, you go back to Zeke. As you stare at your new lover with a stinging heart, you hear shuffling behind you. When you turn your head you find that Levi has propped an old chair under the doorknob, closing the storage room off more effectively. 

“You didn’t think I was going to leave her with you, did you?”

What? Your mind races as Zeke pulls you closer, hugging your back to his chest and his fingers finding your chin. Levi is... staying? You are given no time to process what this means as Zeke’s lips press against yours. He drags you into a wild kiss, forcing your mouth open by your chin so he can push his tongue past your lips. One of his legs pushes yours apart from behind, your skirt hiking up on his knee. You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, the person you admire the most watching you get devoured by another man.

Zeke pulls away from the kiss slightly, leaving his tongue sticking out so he can show off the string of saliva connecting it with yours. He glances at Levi from the side, keeping you panting in your position. “Let’s get to it then, if you hadn’t interrupted us I would’ve already been between her legs.” Heat creeps up your neck at his crude words.

“Bastard.” Levi curses under his breath, sharp eyes finding yours. You can’t place his look, there’s anger there for sure, but also something else.

After Zeke’s little display, you are expecting him to leave the room any second and have him never want to look you in the eye again, but instead of doing that, he starts undoing the straps of his uniform.

It’s impolite to stare, but how couldn’t you? In all these years you’d never seen him anymore bare than in his nightclothes, and here he was, getting ready to strip right in front of you. Taking advantage of your distracted mind, Zeke swiftly pulls up your shirt, exposing your bra to them and making goosebumps rise on your skin from the cold air. As Levi’s eyes trail over your chest, you regret your choice of bra. It has a very low-cut cup, barely covering your nipples.

Zeke’s one hand remains on your chin as the other snakes up to the exposed flesh of your breasts. You shiver when he traces a finger just above the edge of your bra. “You even wore something nice for me? I’m honored.” Zeke presses his lips to your ear but still says it loudly enough for Levi to hear. You really had. It’s not like you had a ton of fancy underwear laying around, 98% of it were practical ones that weren’t exactly eye candy.

You gasp when Zeke backs up for a second and swiftly pulls your shirt off completely, forcing your arms up. He easily catches your wrists together in one colossal hand, keeping your arms up to ensure you can’t cover yourself.

“What do you think, Levi, should I take off everything?” Zeke asks, amusement sounding in his voice.

Your wide eyes move to Levi, a frustrated expression showing on his face. You would’ve thought he wasn’t enjoying it if it wasn’t for the obvious imprint in his pants.

Zeke tuts at Levi’s lack of answer, freehand creeping down your stomach and to the fabric of your skirt. “You’re right, it’s better to take our time.”

He crunches the fabric up in his hand, slowly pulling it up more and more until your panties are revealed. His breath is hot on your ear, becoming noticeably faster when his fingers grace over the silk of your underwear. Your arms wiggle in his grip as his fingers tease over your heat, sliding past your clothed slit. The more pressure he puts against the material, the more your body heats up, and soon he can feel a damp spot through it.

You look at Levi through your lashes, lids low as you hang back against Zeke’s body and let him explore yours. The embarrassment has mostly faded and you allow yourself to stare at him to your heart’s content. You notice everything; the subtle twitches of his face, his widened pupils, the way he swallows heavily every time a tiny mewl escapes your mouth. All of it combined with Zeke’s touches is sending electricity through your body.

Zeke’s hand trails up slightly, leaving your damp panties to stick to your core. You turn your head to the side, giving him a pleading look to take them off. He tugs at your arms, making you stand straighter and causing your ass to bump against his crotch, letting you feel the noticeable bulge there. His hand dips underneath the elastic of your panties, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. The pads of his fingers cause shivers to run down your body as they glide over your mount before dipping between your legs. You open your legs slightly so he can reach you well, causing him to chuckle.

“Eager aren’t we?” He has a hungry glint in his eyes when they meet yours.

You lean into his touch when his fingers stroke over your slit, gathering your slick on them. He parts your folds gently with two of his fingers, his middle finger teasing over your entrance. Levi comes closer, lured in by the pants and whimpers falling from your lips. Heat rises to your cheeks as he stands in front of you, barely any distance between the two of you. He looks down at where Zeke’s hand is teasing your cunt, Zeke’s finger lightly pressing on your entrance before moving away once again.

Levi’s hands come up, cupping your soft breasts in them. You bite your lip as he rubs your hardened nipples through the fabric with his thumbs. His gaze shoots up as soon as a moan sounds from you, one corner of his lips quirking up. More moans slip past your lips as he rolls your nipples between two of his fingers, the thin fabric of your bra adding even more friction.

Zeke frowns behind you. All he got was a few whimpers until now, but Levi touches you and you are moaning like a whore. No, he can’t have that.

You cry out when two of Zeke’s fingers suddenly thrust into your tight heat, a wet squelch resonating throughout the room. You barely notice Levi’s hands freezing on your breasts as Zeke’s fingers curl inside of you, intently searching for the rough patch on your walls.

Levi grabs onto your chin, his other hand harshly fondling your breast. He isn’t pleased like when you moaned for him, far from it. His lips crash onto yours, catching your open mouth by surprise. The moans enticed by Zeke’s fingers are muffled by Levi’s tongue, both men groaning as you shake between their forms. This isn’t how you expected your first kiss with Levi, but you might just like it more, the desperation behind it intoxicating.

Zeke’s fingers finally find their target, and he notices instantly as your arms jerk in his grip, your cunt clenching around him. He pushes and strokes over the spot feverishly, and not even Levi’s mouth can muffle your moans anymore.

“You should feel how she’s sucking me in, Levi. I’ve never felt such an eager cunt.” Zeke taunts. Levi doesn’t answer, lips moving against yours so roughly that you feel like your lips will be bruised afterward.

You’re getting close, you can feel it as your whole body starts tensing, bucking into Zeke’s curling fingers. You aren’t sure if Levi means to add to it, but as his hand dips below the fabric of your bra, nail softly raking over your sensitive nipple, you feel yourself rushing towards the edge.

It only takes a few more strokes of Zeke’s fingers before you cum around them. Your legs buckle and tense as you orgasm, Zeke praising you and grinding his bulge against your ass. “That’s it, good girl.”

Levi causes you to yelp out in pain when he bites down on your bottom lip out of nowhere, breaking a tiny part of the skin. You stare at him in shock as he backs up, still shaking from cumming as you watch him wipe the trickle of blood away from his lip. Even Zeke wasn’t expecting that, his fingers leaving your heat quickly and forcing your face to the side. He examines the small cut on your lip even as you try to cringe away from him cupping your face with slick covered fingers.

“Don’t cum for that animal when your mouth is on mine.”

You look at Levi from the corner of your eye. He doesn’t seem angry or shocked with himself, instead, he seems pleased.

Zeke chuckles. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Levi.”

His grip tightens on your wiggling wrists as you try to get some space between the two of you. He tuts at you, making your eyes dart back to his. You can tell from his grin that the little sympathy he might have had just now has disappeared.

“Open your mouth.” He says. He can feel your jaw tense at his words. He loves how innocently wide-eyed you look at him while knowing full well that your cunt is throbbing at the idea of obeying him.

Slowly, you open your mouth, and Zeke’s fingers ease off of your jaw. When you have opened your mouth wide enough for his liking, he slides the two wet fingers past your lips, deliberately going past the cut. Your taste is mixed with a faint hint of blood, but you don’t stop to think about it as Zeke’s fingers press down on your tongue. While you are lapping at his fingers, he finally lets go of your wrists, letting your arms fall to your sides.

You hear Levi sighing close by. “Seems like you are all show and no action. Couldn’t have expected more from a circus monkey.”

Zeke’s eyes stay on yours, daring you to look away even as they talk. “It’s called foreplay.” He responds casually.

Seemingly satisfied with your suckling at his fingers, he slowly pulls them out of your mouth. Taking in your swollen lips, he can’t hold back the urge to make you look even more pathetic. He wipes his fingers off on your cheek, leaving your own spit on it. Is it embarrassing? Most definitely, but in a different way than normally. Something about their rough treatment makes your abdomen flutter in excitement.

Zeke suddenly pushes you towards Levi by your shoulders. “Entertain him while I get these tight fucking pants off.” Zeke grumbles and you can instantly hear him start fumbling with his belt.

Your nerves chitter as you look at Levi. His watchful gaze always makes you scared to make a wrong move. You want to be good to him, for such a long time already that the need to is practically overflowing.

Tired of your staring, Levi makes the first move, pulling your hand forward and against his crotch. Your eyes dart from the bulge you are cupping in your hand to his face. “I’ve waited long enough, take off my pants.” The slight tremor in his voice as he speaks and the pink color on his cheeks has your heart beating faster.

He lets go of your hand, allowing you to move it. You slide your flat palm along the imprint of his cock, making him part his lips in a pant. Making quick work of the button on his pants, you start sliding down the elastic of it, taking his underwear off with it. When his cock is exposed, he pushes your hands away, quickly taking his underwear and pants off completely. He glares at you as he takes off his shirt as well, hair getting tossed on the way. “Strip.” He tells you. The way he throws his clothes to the side is yet another surprise in this odd night.

You let your skirt fall to the floor first, then your wet panties, and lastly your bra. Shivers run up your body from both the cold and the nerves that course through your body as you are naked in front of Levi for the first time. He watches you for a moment, his length twitching excitedly against his stomach. You are watching him as well, but you aren’t sure where to look first. His chest is lean yet muscled, dipping down his in a delicious V just above his crotch. Not following where the V is going would be a shame, and so you eagerly eye his cock. It’s long, curved to the side just slightly with a girth that already ensures you that he will fill you up well.

Wetting your lips, you step towards him, closing the distance between the two of you back up. Reaching out, you wrap your hand around his length. It feels hot and heavy in your hand as you give it a testing pump. You hear Levi’s breath hitch when you look at him through your lashes, eyes lidded. As your hand pumps his cock slowly, he can’t help but tense at the memory of all the nights he spend imagining his hand was yours. Watching you jerk him off, your pretty face so close to his, makes him want to hold you, but also ruin you until you cry.

“Y/n.” He starts and you cock your head to the side slightly, showing that you are listening even though your eyes are trained on his cock again. “Turn around.”

Your eyes snap back to his, searching for what exactly he wants but finding only more questions at the intense lust he’s showing. Precum leaks from the head of Levi’s cock as you obediently turn around, still within reach just like he wanted. You swallow heavily as you are now faced with a fully naked Zeke, his hand eagerly pumping his cock. He gives you a lopsided grin as his thumb rubs over the head of his cock, making it twitch in response.

Levi’s fingers press down softly between your shoulder blades, instructing you to bend forward just slightly. It’s not necessary for what he’s planning, but after Zeke made it a point to show off, he intends to pay him back. You yelp when Levi kicks your legs open and one of his hands grabs onto your hair, roughly pulling at it. He thrusts his cock between your thighs, causing them to be even slicker by combining your already present wetness on them with his pre. Tiny mewls leave your lips as he slides his cock back and forth, the top dragging against your soaked heat. Your plush thighs feel amazing already, but just sliding against them is not what he intended. He grabs onto his cock with his free hand and pushes the tip between your folds. Your surprised look makes Zeke chuckle, cock still in his hand. Is Levi going to put it in? The question rushes through your head and you feel the tip of his cock catch onto your entrance.

“Not yet.” He groans, unsure whether he’s telling you or himself.

The head of his cock slips away from your entrance, his length now snuggly between your folds. Your wet cunt feels better than he could’ve imagined as it drags past his cock, everything about it beckoning him to take you already. Hand on your hair tightening painfully, he starts thrusting slightly as you squeeze your thighs to keep him near. Your heavy pants are interrupted by a moan every time his tip slips against your clit, sending pleasure through your body.

“Look at those pretty lips.” Zeke says, coming closer to your bend-over form.

His cock is glistening with his precum, the head of it flushed red. As he’s closer to you you can really take it in, and the size is startling. Gods, you already have Levi’s sliding against your cunt and now there’s another right in front of your face, this is insane.

Zeke observes the bliss that comes over your face with every thrust of Levi’s. “Your shortness comes in handy for once, like this she’s at the perfect height to suck my cock.” Zeke tells Levi, tapping his cock on your parted lips.

Levi shoots him a nasty look. How he can be so cocky is truly beyond Levi. It doesn’t matter though, it’s clear that you like him better, your body speaks volumes on that. His thoughts making him slide forward faster, his hips connecting with your ass in a loud slap. As you open your mouth to moan at Levi’s actions, Zeke makes little time of thrusting his cock into it. You cough and sputter as you choke on his length, being given no time before he greedily slides himself down your throat.

Tears form in your eyes as Zeke fucks your mouth roughly, your nose bumping against his trimmed pubes over and over again. Levi curses behind you, jealously stirring in his chest. He disgusts himself with how the sight of Zeke defiling you both angers and arouses him. You scream around Zeke’s cock when Levi harshly brings his hand down on your ass. He hits your soft flesh repeatedly, his cock twitching against your heat at every hit.

Zeke coos at you as your tear-filled eyes overspill, the stimulation from both sides becoming too much. His hand strokes over your cheek comfortingly, though he refuses to slow down his thrusts into your squeezing throat. You feel your ass sting from the continuous slaps Levi is landing on your ass, the pain mixing with the pleasure.

Levi stares down at the darkened skin of your ass, his handprints littered all over it. A smile twists onto his face, proud of his work and the way your cunt is drooling over his length in return. Meanwhile, you are still choking down Zeke’s length, the strangled sounds from your throat making it clear that you are struggling. Your sounds draw Levi’s gaze back to where Zeke is fucking your face just in time. Levi recognizes the look on Zeke’s face instantly, head lightly thrown back and eyes closed. Without a second thought, Levi uses the hand in your hair to pull you off of the other man’s cock. You gasp and sputter for air, just as surprised as Zeke as he curses. “What the fuck?!”

“I’m not letting you cum in her mouth, I’m still planning on coming near it.” Levi explains casually as he slides his cock out from between your thighs.

You are still hacking and coughing as the two men exchange dead glares. Will you survive this? You truly wonder as you regain your breath. It’s like being pulled apart between two forces, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying every second of it.

“Shit.” Zeke runs a hand down his face, stroking it over his beard. “We can’t take her like this.”

You look up suddenly at his words. Hold on a second, he can’t be tapping out now?!

Zeke gestures towards a sturdy crate off to the side. “Sit on that, Levi.”

Levi grimaces and you look between the two men, just relieved you aren’t being left like this.

Zeke sighs and waves towards the crate again. “Do it or I’ll shove my cock back down her throat, and this time I won’t stop till I’m done.”

You look at Levi, who despite looking slightly disgruntled, agrees and goes to sit on the crate. Zeke swiftly picks you up after, the muscles of his chest presses temptingly against your back. He only holds you for a second before he sits you down on Levi’s lap, having you straddle him.

You place your hands on Levi’s shoulders, a shy smile on your face. He can’t help but chuckle slightly at that, you are still unsure even as his cock is pressing against your cunt. Zeke comes to stand behind you, hands grabbing onto your sore ass. He makes you push it towards him before he spreads your cheeks, whistling at the sight of your dripping hole.

“Don’t know how you resisted all this time.” He comments towards Levi.

Levi’s eyes don’t leave yours, too enthralled by finally having you on him to have Zeke ruin the moment. “Hurry up already, shit beard.”

Zeke lets one of your cheeks go to grab onto his cock. “As you wish.”

Surprising both you and Levi, Zeke aligns himself and pushes into your cunt in one swift thrust. You cry out loudly, nails digging crescent shapes into Levi’s shoulders. Levi is caught off guard for a second as he watches your blissed-out face, and Zeke takes the opportunity to pull out and thrust in with force once again.

“Let’s see if you get the same sound out of her.” Zeke taunts, smacking your sore ass once before pulling out of you. It’s obvious to even your foggy self that he did it just to rile up Levi.

You are panting again, your body shaken by Zeke’s surprise. The walls of your cunt sting from the sudden stretch, but at the same time squeeze eagerly around nothing, waiting for more.

Levi cups your chin in his hand as the other goes to your hip. You watch his dull blue eyes shimmer as he shifts under you till his cock is poking at your dripping entrance. For a second, you wonder how different this would’ve been if he had accepted you sooner.

With a hard push to your hip, he thrusts you onto his length, forcing your spasming walls to accommodate him in one go. To Zeke’s disdain, you do cry out for the other man. Not just the sound either, you cry out his name excitedly.

Levi pulls you in by your chin for a quick, sloppy kiss. It feels so hot inside you, so tight, he’s losing his sense and that’s exactly why he was afraid to do this with you. After this, he won’t want to let you go, while the world may force him to do so. He can’t think about that now though, not while your lips are on his. In this moment you are here, and he will enjoy you fully.

With one of Zeke’s hands still firmly on your cheek, he pulls it to the side, allowing a clearer view of how your hole is stretched and stuffed around Levi’s cock. He feels his face flushing. Though he would’ve liked to enjoy your cunt for himself, this sharing has turned out pretty entertaining so far.

You gasp against Levi’s lips when Zeke presses the tip of his cock against your other entrance. Breaking the kiss, Levi keeps his hand on your chin, thumb rubbing over your bottom lip soothingly, careful to avoid the cut he made. “Take a deep breath.”

Your breath comes out in trembles as Zeke pushes past your tight entrance, his cock coated in your slick. You can feel every inch of him slowly sliding into your ass, causing you to whimper as you soon feel overwhelmingly full. The wall separating their cocks twitches as both their lengths slide against it.

“You took that so well.” Zeke says as his hand finds grip on your free hip. He brushes your hair away from your ear, leaning in closer till his warm breath washes over it. “Makes me wonder how many men you let fuck your little ass.”

You bite back a moan when Zeke bites the top of your ear softly and, unbeknownst to you, connects eyes with Levi. “What do you think, Levi? You are her supervisor after all.”

Levi’s jaw clenches and he drops his hand slightly from your chin. “Seems like I missed a lot.”

You swallow nervously at the angry look in his eyes, your holes involuntarily clenching around their cocks. Quick like always, Levi moves his hand to your neck in the blink of an eye. You quiver between their bodies as he squeezing down on the sides of your neck.

“Who else did you do it with?” He questions, his gaze not allowing you to avert yours.

You gasp as Zeke starts moving, dragging his cock out just a little before thrusting back in. He’s more than eager to add onto your punishment, your body still struggling against the intrusion.

Levi shoots a glare over your shoulder, but Zeke shrugs it off. “You feel how she’s squeezing down. Seems like your cadet likes it rough.”

You didn’t think your embarrassment could return in this situation, but it does. Your perverseness was already exposed, but now the full extent of it is coming out as they question it.

“Tell me who fucked you!” Levi snarls, his hand squeezing harder around your throat. The fact that it happened right under his nose makes his jealousy spark into a wildfire.

His cock twitches inside you at the way your mouth quirks up into a smile. You are enjoying this, aren’t you?

Switching tactics, he leans in closer, ghosting his lips over yours and sliding his cock halfway out of your heat. You fall right for the bait as you try to move in to kiss him, whining when he pulls away just before you reach his lips. “Tell me who.”

Levi can feel your throat moving under his hand as you start and stop speaking multiple times. Your eyes and mouth go wide when Zeke thrusts into you hard, making your ass sting all over again from the impact. 

“Tell him.”

You nod your head up and down desperately. “Alright!” You yelp out as Zeke continues his sharp thrusts.

“Jean! Jean! Just a few times.” You say quickly, your cheeks burning up from shame.

Levi stays quiet for a moment, and you would have been scared if his cock wasn’t buried inside of you. He pulls you closer by your throat, examining your face. “Did he fill you like this?”

You want to answer, but your mouth is left hanging agape as Levi suddenly slams his full length up into you. Choked sounds leave your lips as he forces your hips to stay up as he joins Zeke in a harsh pace.

Zeke’s hands come around your front, fondling your breasts and soon squeezing your nipples with his fingers. “You sure have yourself a good slut here.”

All you can do is moan and cry out a jumble of their names as they fuck into your tight holes. Gods, have you ever felt this good before?

“I’m jealous.” Zeke grunts out, rolling your nipples between his fingers before giving your breasts a forceful squeeze.

Levi grunts as he watches Zeke squeeze your breasts together, his eyes glued to the cleavage it created. The sight makes him want to stick his cock between them, but that will have to wait for another time.

“Levi! Zeke! Ah!-” You mewl, your slick dripping down Levi’s cock as you bathe in the pleasure of being pinned between them.

Zeke and Levi look at each other, and though they couldn’t be more different, the two men understand each other’s gazes perfectly at this moment. Stilling inside of you, Levi makes your hand clamber desperately down his shoulders and chest.

“Levi, please!” You whine, attempting to move your hips but being hindered by Zeke’s restless thrusts, his hands having left your breasts to hold your waist instead.

Just as Zeke’s cock slides out of your tight hole till the tip, Levi thrusts up into you, filling you completely. Your eyes roll back from the pleasure as they switched up the pace, one now pounding into you while the other pulls away.

You barely even realized that Levi’s hand was still on your neck until he removes it, making you sigh under the relief of the pressure. “I waited so long, assuming you would break under my touch. But look at you now.” He grunts out.

Zeke chuckles as he bends forward to run his tongue over the length of your neck, causing you to shiver. “That’s on you, Levi. I saw it right away.”

You can feel his voice vibrate against your skin, lips so close you can feel them slightly ghost past when he enunciates. “Though I have to admit, the extend of it surprised even me.”

Your hands run from Levi’s pecks to his firm abs while Zeke’s broad chest presses against your back. The slaps of their bodies hitting yours resonating beautifully throughout the room. How did you get so lucky to be sandwiched between these men?

You bite your sore bottom lip as you feel the coil in your abdomen start to tighten. They too can tell you are getting close, your hips clumsily moving in search of more friction.

One of Levi’s hands moves between your bodies, slender fingers quickly seeking out your swollen clit. Screams get caught in your sore throat as he rubs agonizingly slow circles over your clit, his fingertips never faltering in the precise movements.

“Shit.” Zeke curses out behind you, thrusts growing sloppy as he feels your body starting to quiver from your incoming orgasm.

Levi’s free hand grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks together, his lips quirked up in a lopsided smirk. “You hear that? Shit beard over there is about to cum.”

Your chest heaves heavily with your moans as Levi’s fingers work your clit faster, causing your holes to clench around their dick tightly.

“Bet you’d like that huh? Have him fill your ass with his cum?” Levi asks mockingly, squeezing your cheeks tighter.

His cock can’t help but twitch inside of you at the sight of your pathetically blissed-out face.

“Mmhm! Yes!” Is all you can cry out, so close to your release.

Levi releases your face, his eyes seemingly growing more darkened with lust by the second. Without warning, he moves his hand away from your clit slightly only to bring it back down with a slap. You squeeze your eyes shut as you cum from the sudden sharp pleasure, your legs shaking at either side of his.

You barely register Zeke’s wild pumping into you or the way Levi groans out your name as your orgasm rips through your body. The stimulation of their touches only prolong your bliss, mewls, and whimpers leaving your mouth like a chant.

With a hard slap to your ass, Zeke brings your focus back on him. You are still cumming as he squeezes the soft flesh in his hand, thrusting into you one last time. He breaths out your name as he empties himself inside of you and the warm sensation of his release spreading through you feels sinfully good.

Zeke leaves his cock buried to the hilt inside of your ass till the last twitch, your tight hole objecting when he starts pulling out. You feel his cum leaking out and spreading over your cheeks when he has pulled out of you completely. His hands grip your ass tightly as he spreads it, groaning at the sight of your leaking hole. At every thrust of Levi’s, your tight entrance twitches and forces more of Zeke’s cum to leak out.

Levi’s fingers have returned to rubbing quick circles over your swollen clit while he fucks you, and the intense sensation after you have barely finished cumming has your eyes rolling back as you cry out his name in encouragement. “Ah-! Don’t stop,” your unfocused gaze finding his “More.”

“You want ‘more’?” Zeke repeats, mockingly mimicking your slurred tone.

He grips his still-hard cock in his hand, pumping it in his fist. “Do you want more of him, or of me?”

You can barely muster an answer as Levi bounces you on his cock, your body shaking with the need to orgasm again. “B-Both!” You choke out.

“Guess I have no choice.” Zeke chuckles as he positions the tip of his cock at your twitching hole. Even though this is the second time, you still pleasantly surprise him with the way you eagerly suck him in.

Levi can feel the way your cunt spasms around him when Zeke thrusts his length into you, your mouth once again opening in a wide O. He’s the one who made you cum, isn’t he? So why are you still so damn focused on that shit face?!

He calls your name, but your foggy mind doesn’t register it. You are too close again, and after cumming so hard already twice, you feel like this time you won’t be able to stop.

Slap

The side of your face stings slightly and Levi gives you a dark grin as your gaze connects with his, your eyes cleared from their earlier fog. “Don’t go drifting off on me now, brat.”

You nod your head, your arms wrapping around his neck. You are back to focus, but you hope he doesn’t think that will prevent you from cumming. The way that they fill you is just too good.

“You can’t blame her. Her slutty body is betraying her.” Zeke says as his mouth moves to your neck once again. You don’t think anything of it as his hot tongue glides over your skin, so used to their constant touches by now.

Levi’s fingers leave your clit, once again followed by a sharp slap. This time he doesn’t do it just once though, he repeats the slap three times before going back to rubbing the abused nub. The way your sounds and labored breaths hitch in your throat every time have him closing in on his end faster than he wants.

Zeke’s gentle lapping and sucking at your neck turns animalistic as he suddenly bites down at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and you yelp as his teeth dig slightly into the sensitive skin. It only lasts for a few seconds before he sucks a giant hickey on top of the bite mark, placing a gentle kiss on the bruise afterward.

Shit, shit. Trembles rattle your body as you drench Levi’s cock with your slick, cumming from the added pleasure of Zeke’s bite. You let your forehead fall against Levi’s shoulder, mumbling slurred words and moans into his skin, your tiny muscle spasms alerting both men of your orgasm. 

Levi pushes Zeke’s head away from your neck. “What do you think you’re-” He stops his sentence, taking the other man in with narrowed eyes.

Zeke slows his thrusting, raising his shoulders in innocence. He’s about to say something, but Levi grabs Zeke’s attention by taking your face in his hand.

Their conversation has completely gone over your head, still tingling all over as the tip of Levi’s cock hits the sensitive spot on your wall repeatedly, dragging out your orgasm. The way they slowed down has you whine in displeasure as well as curl your toes at how it increases the intensity of each dragged-out thrust. The hand on your chin barely catches your attention, only truly noticing it when Levi’s voice pierces your thoughts.

“Open up and stick out your tongue.”

You do as he commands, your mind not even questioning it for a second. Levi chuckles at your display of obedience, you always were good at following orders. Zeke can make marks all he wants, but Levi knows who owns you on the inside.

Keeping a good grip on your chin whilst continuing to fuck into you, Levi observes your open mouth for a second before spitting in it. You mewl as he keeps your mouth open, watching his spit run down your tongue.

Zeke grabs you by your hair, forcing your face out of Levi’s grip and forcing it to the side. He groans at the mess Levi just made, your eyes growing watery as you moan with your mouth wide open. Zeke let’s go off your hair after noticing Levi’s glare. Shit, he could say so many things, but he’s close again, and he’d rather making a mess of your soft ass than argue with Levi.

“Swallow.” Levi orders when your face is turned back to him.

You close your mouth slowly, eyes staying on his as you swallow. A choked sound comes from his throat as he snaps his hips up into you, your hands flying up to grip the back of his hair.

“Fuck!” He curses. “Be a good girl and cum again, when you do I’ll fill you up.” He says, wanting to drag another handful of screams from your throat before he finally cums.

You nod your head, tears forming in your eyes from the intensity as both men desperately rut into you. Your holes spasm around them, your tired body ready to fulfill Levi’s wish any second.

Zeke’s forehead rests against the back of your head, his glasses fogging up from his panting. Every tremble of your perfect body pushes him closer to the edge.

“Z-Zeke.” He thinks he imagined it for a moment, but then your sweet voice calls out for him again. “Zeke!” One of your arms has left Levi so you can place your hand on the back of Zeke’s head.

You are pulling at both men’s hair now as your hips sway in a desperate attempt to ride their cocks.

“Levi!” You call out as well, the man busy clenching his jaw in an effort not to let too many moans out.

“Please! Please!” You beg, your fingers trembling as they grab at their locks. You scream out in pleasure, your orgasm interrupting your pleading. “I-” It’s so hard to talk, your throat feeling squeezes without any hand being near it. “I can’t take anymore! Please, cum!” You cry out, continuously interrupted by wild pants.

Both are happy to oblige, having had their fun in torturing you and now eager to give you your award. Zeke pulls out of your ass in one quick slide, pumping his slick cock in his fist. He’s the first to cum as he empties himself all over your ass and back, his cock jerking in his hand at the sight of your skin getting more and more soiled by him.

Levi presses a hard kiss to your lips before finally giving in to his release, making sure your beautiful eyes are on his as he lets go. You can feel every hot shot of his cum inside of you, your cunt clenching around him tightly. Zeke is just admiring his handy work from behind you as Levi fills you up for what must almost be a minute. Your hand in Levi’s hair twirls his soft locks between your fingers, your heart squeezing as your exhausted mind ponders he pend up he must have been himself.

You smile weakly as Levi kisses you again after he’s finished cumming. It feels appreciative, and he really does feel that way as he can’t remember the last time he felt so good.

Zeke takes in the way he painted your skin with his cum one more time before turning around to get his clothes, leaving you nestled on Levi’s lap. You let your head drop to Levi’s shoulder, not caring that his cock is still inside you as exhaustion nips at your body.

Levi strokes your hair gently, but his watchful gaze is glued to Zeke. It’s a good thing that Zeke is putting on his clothes because it’s clear from the look in the other man’s eyes that his presence is no longer welcome. Always the defying type, Zeke gives the side of your hip a quick tap before exiting the room.

“See you soon, y/n.”

After the door has shut after the blonde man, Levi immediately jumps to action. He moves you off of his cock, his cum streaming out onto your thighs and his lap.

“Shit.” He mumbles at the mess.

He kisses your forehead softly, making your lidded eyes look up at him. “You did well, but do this again and I will leave you like this for the other scouts to find.” He tells you strictly, hands coming up under your arms to lift you up.

You can only nod weakly, not able to find your voice anymore. Perhaps he’s a little mad at you, but you don’t regret it at all. Your lips twitch into a tired smile as you think, ‘yeah, I really did do well.’.

[etsuven]

☁️Scaramouche | Mistletoe☁️

remember that scara post I made?… yeah I’m gonna write for that now. it’s still December therefore it’s still christmas

this is also an apology for that so called Christmas fic it’s so bad I’m not very proud of it

still haven’t gotten my headers remade so-

cw: maybe ooc scara bc the only time I ever got to meet him was in inazuma, flustered scara, modern au, mild cursing

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“come on, scaramouche! you have to be there!” childe begged, watching as scaramouche rolled his eyes once more.

the two had been arguing for the past 15 minutes about some party that childe had wanted him to attend for some odd reason. at this point, scaramouche was thinking about just giving in so he would just shut up.

“you don’t have to go.” another voice spoke up. childe and scaramouche looked at who had spoken, varying looks on their faces.

the person who had spoken was signora, who was staring into the mirror as she adjusted her red and ice blue crystalfly hair-clip. the men started to argue again, this time bringing her into the conversation.

“will you two shut the fuck up.” she glared at the two men from the corners of her eyes before glancing at the mirror, retouching her eyeshadow a bit before turning back to them.

“you don’t have the go, scaramouche. but just know that you’ll be missing out on that person you’ve been checking out for the past 6 or 7 months.” signora laughed evilly, covering her mouth with her hand.

childe also looked back at scara, his lips turning into a knowing smirk. “oh right, them!” scaramouche’s cheeks flushed under his two friends’ gazes, averting his eyes as he crossed his arms.

“i wasn’t checking them out! they just… happened to be in my line of vision!” he flushed more when childe and signora let out a simultaneous ‘right.’

signora stood up, adjusting her clothes before grabbing scaramouche by the arm. “we’re going.”

and scara really didn’t have the energy to argue.

at least, that’s what he told himself.

the three friends arrived at the house in a matter of minutes, knocking on the door to reveal one of childe’s friends. they let them in, the sound of Christmas music filling the home.

scaramouche felt a tap on his shoulder, glancing at childe who was pointing at something. “look, it’s your partner!…” scaramouche found himself looking by instinct, looking away soon after as he covered his face.

“they’re not my partner!” he walked away, covering his face in embarrassment. he could hear the laughter of (sadly) his friends behind him, slowly fading away.

he removed his hands from his face after a few seconds, taking a deep breath as he calmed his nerves. he managed to make his way to the kitchen, and there was food placed on the island and the counters.

scaramouche sighed once more, running his hands over his face as his mind wandered to thoughts about you.

he was normally so strong. knowing what he wanted and how he wanted it, never backing down. but for some reason, things were different around you. he was so soft around you, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. clearly that was something his friends had picked up on.

you were also so sweet and so patient with him, treating him gently and not forcing him to do things he didn’t want to do. (which is common human decency. but for some reason, it felt different with you.)

he also felt strange around you. you made his stomach feel weird, and he found that his heart would skip a beat whenever you were around. clearly you put a spell on him, that was the only explanation…

“what’s got you all worked up?” a teasing voice spoke from behind him. scaramouche jumped and turned around, being met with the face of the very person he was just thinking about.

(y/n).

scaramouche found himself fiddling with the loose strings on his sweater, a nervous habit he had picked up back from when he first began to have these strange feeling about you.

“it’s… it’s nothing.” he averted his eyes, adjusting the signature hat on his head. the only time he ever took his hat off was when he was sleeping.

“doesn’t look like ‘nothing.’ did someone force you here? you don’t seem like the person who would go to a Christmas party.” you stepped closer to him, leaning down a bit in order to meet his eyes from under his hat.

scaramouche took a glance at your face before quickly looking away, his heart beating quickly in his chest. he fiddled with his sweater more.

you gave him a small smile, knowing what he wanted to say. “here, you can hang out with me instead! how does that sound?” you watched as he nodded softly, the intricate ornaments on his hat ringing slightly.

the two of you began to walk out of the kitchen, chatting slightly before you were interrupted by the sound of childe yelling out. “well, look that that!”

scaramouche rolled his eyes, taking a look at childe and noticing that he seemed to be pointing at something. not at him, but something above him… he looked up, his cheeks heating up quickly as he stared at the plant.

mistletoe.

clearly he had missed it on his way to the kitchen! or maybe someone planted it there… signora’s voice rang out this time as scaramouche looked back in that direction. “you have to kiss now! or else you’ll have bad luck!”

you looked to your right at scaramouche, taking note of his red cheeks. in all honesty, you really wanted to kiss him, and you weren’t really sure if he wanted to kiss you too or if he was just embarrassed that his friends were calling him out.

“scara?” you called out, tapping his hip with the back of your hand. he looked at you, calming down slightly, but not by much. “do you want to- i mean- you don’t have to but…”

he shrugged, looking away from you. you placed your hand on his waist, leaning down once more to look him in the eye. “i need a ‘yes’ or ‘no’, scara… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

you watched as scara bit his lip, his eyes looking into yours as he pleaded slightly. “y-yes, please…”

scara gasped as the hand on his hip pushed him, his back hitting the door frame behind him, and a few gasps and ‘ooh’s’ hit your ears. you took a quick glance at them before pulling the hat off of scaramouche’s head, using it to hide your faces as you kissed him.

cheers rang through the room, but scara paid them no mind as he kissed you back, sighing softly as your warm lips invaded his senses. you were in the same situation, squeezing his hip slightly as a way to keep yourself grounded.

out of nowhere, scaramouche felt your tongue brush against his lower lip, causing a whimper to escape his mouth and his knees to buckle slightly. his arms flew around your neck to keep himself up, not paying attention to how the cheers got louder.

after a few seconds, you pulled away, and scara found himself chasing your lips with his own. you giggled at him, running the hand that was just on his waist over his bright red cheek.

“you’re cute… we should go out sometime, how does that sound?” you handed scaramouche his hat, watching as he fumbled with it before nodding at you.

“great! now come on, let’s go sit down…”

[meetmymouth]

For the blurb prompts could you use 9 & 17 on the list 💜

didn't have time to proofread im so sorry!! edit: proofread!

prompt list here, send a number!!

#9 This is my favourite place in the whole world

#17 Sleeping in the same bed for the first time

It would never work, they'd said. You two would never work, and you would have a hard time "adjusting" to his lifestyle. But they had no idea.

They had no idea how loud he made you laugh–laugh until you cried– with that "ugly" snort of yours, or how he in such short period of time learned how to make the perfect cup of tea for you and nailed it every time, despite turning his nose up because you took it with sugar. They didn't know the late night chats on the phone, despite the tired, tired boy looking at you through the screen. They didn't know you; they had no idea.

It was hard, with both of you having completely different careers, you spending most of your day teaching whilst your boyfriend sang his heart out and had people scream his name every night. But you made it work. You were both honest with each other, always speaking your mind and telling each other if there were anything bothering either of you. But mostly, you were in love.

Meeting through mutual friends while he was touring was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, you were scared of being just a fling, something that was only an “availability” for him. You couldn't bring yourself to take what you two had seriously for the first two months, with Harry still being on tour as you could only communicate through FaceTime. But when it was half term, and Harry asked for you to visit, you couldn't help but pop the question– well, not that one.

"What are we," you'd said, at three in the morning as you laid in bed while he got ready for his day. He'd paused for a minute, then let out a chuckle, your insides on the verge of leaking all over the floor.

It was silly of him to think that you two were official, without you even knowing. Turns out, he'd already began mentioning you to his friends on tour as his girlfriend, and whenever it left his mouth, you couldn't help but preen, bite your lip and repeat the word over and over again in your head.

So, standing in Harry's kitchen with nothing but a ratty t-shirt on, you feel like you somehow belong. Sure, it wasn't your first time at his, but never like this before. Never with a sleep tee on, face moisturised and meds all swallowed as you get ready for bed. You can't help but feel nervous all of a sudden, though when his arms wrap around your waist from behind you, the sheepish smile is back on your face, and you find yourself tilting your head back, catching his jaw in a soft kiss.

"What's taking you so long," a kiss is pressed on your temple and the words tickle your ear. "Come to bed."

"I will. Was just taking my meds."

He smiles into your neck, and help you turn in his arms, now face to face as you both smile like you've just discovered the deepest secrets to the world.

"You good," he asks, eyes darting from your eyes to your lips.

"Yes. Let's go."

You both walk upstairs, hands intertwined, and once inside his bedroom, you feel your cheeks get warm.

It wasn't like you've never been here before, in his bedroom. You cuddled on the bed, you watched telly– sometimes ate in his bed. Did other things. But never went to bed together, to sleep, and to wake up together.

With one last smile, he walks to his side of the bed and sits cross-legged on the crisp sheets, and takes his t-shirt off. You know you have to make a move. You sit on the bed, copying him, and he watches as you check your phone on the bedside table on your side of the bed, and you know what he's thinking. Though, it doesn't mean you can't bribe it out of him.

You reach for his hand cream near your phone, and begin lathering your hands with it. "What? Why do you keep looking at me like that?" the words leave your mouth, and it makes him laugh.

"Sorry, I didn't think you getting ready for bed, in my bed, would turn me on this much," he grins as he takes his socks off.

"I hate you."

"You don't."

A beat, and he speaks again, now fully in bed as he keeps watching you fiddle with your phone.

"Get in bed already!"

"I will! I'm sending a text to my mum."

"Did she tell you to be careful?"

"You're so silly. Hey," you put the phone down and turn to him, copying his position in bed. "Don't hog the duvet. I hate being cold."

"I'd never, baby. I'll keep you warm, come here, sweet girl."

And you do. Of course you do.

As you get comfortable in his embrace, he reaches and turns the lamps off, cuddling more into you as a sigh leaves his mouth. With butterfly kisses pressed on your cheek, your forehead, your neck, you copy his sigh and settle more into him, groaning when he throws one leg over yours.

"That okay?" He whispers into the darkness, his minty breath tickling the back of your neck.

You nod. "Yeah. I like being squished."

"I know. Hey," he squeezes your waist. "I'm so excited for tomorrow. To wake up to you, I mean–"

"–Cheeseball."

"To wake up to you," he clears his throat. "And to see you drooling everywhere."

"Rude! You're nasty."

"Shh. Sleep."

It's silent for the next ten minutes, and you think he's already fallen asleep by the way his chest rises and falls against your back.

"Psst," he surprises you. You chuckle into the night, and crane your neck so you can look at him despite the darkness. "You smell nice. Better than Mitch."

"Piss off."

Silence.

Harry squeezes your body, and presses his lips to your neck. It's sweet, warm, and it gives you butterflies.

"You know what," he whispers, big hands finding your belly under the t-shirt, thumb beginning to stroke your warm skin.

You whisper back, "What?"

"This is my favourite place in the whole world. You. In my arms. In my bed. In my space..."

"Mhm..."

"Good night, sweetheart."

"Night, H."

[littlemisslipbalm]

“Harry’s stylist, right?”

Summary: Harry and his personal stylist are great collaborators, on screen and off. She helps his visions come to life and in turn they’ve become close friends. As she helps him to bring his fashion dreams come to life during the Fine Line era, will some other dreams come to life as well?

or

Harry and his stylist go from colleagues to friends to lovers because they’ve been in love with each other from the jump

this fit is very important to this part lmaooo - I literally have no idea what to call this lol, anyway I've been sitting on this for forever and I wanted to get something out for yall and i love this story there will be a part 2 when i get to a writing mood. I love this story bc its my literal dream - anyway!! pls enjoy and reblog and lmk what you think :)

Word Count: 14k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, tame for now, should be smut eventually - aka slow burn (what else would you expect from me at this point i guess)

part 2

-

“Hey, H, I just had a question about one of the SNL outfits? Do you have a sec?”

Harry looked up from his phone and raised his brows at his stylist, Y/N.

Y/N had worked with Harry previously. In photoshoots for Another Man magazine and his most recent Gucci campaign. As well as some other random times, such as one-off award show looks and specific appearances. However, this past summer Harry had hired Y/N to work fulltime for him, exclusively. He had told her that he was planning on releasing his second album in the winter and he wanted someone there to help him plan his clothes for music videos, award season, interview appearances, as well as tour outfits.

Y/N stood just inside the doorway of the room, leaning her back against the wall, looking expectantly at him. Her eyes were wide and her lips were pursed. She was dressed simply in a white satin skirt and a matching cropped button-up, they both had cream flowers embroidered on, paired with horsebit slim Gucci mules. Her style was eclectic, but she had definitely noticed an increase of Gucci in her wardrobe since starting her employment with Harry.

Y/N’s passion in life was fashion and clothes and she constantly worried that one of Harry’s outfits wouldn’t deliver as much as she wanted it to. He was quick to tell her not to worry so much though, as long as they both were happy with it, how could anyone else not love it. Plus, he’d always add, it didn’t really matter what anyone else thought. But as more and more events began to crop up, Y/N’s worry over her work grew. She had only been the head stylist for Harry on projects that were still underwraps - except for Lights Up which had been released a couple weeks ago now.

The first project she ever worked on with Harry as his full-time personal stylist was the Lights Up music video. She had never worked so closely with one person for so long on just one project. Harry was insistent in vision and came in the first day filled with ideas, what he imagined for the video's concept and how he wanted to incorporate clothes. She had been happy to make his dreams become reality.

The two of them spent hours at his house for weeks, pouring over every detail of every outfit he planned to wear. They both wanted it to be perfect. And eventually, it all came together, exactly how they had planned. All of the garments for the video took up two entire garment racks. Y/N had made Harry pose in every single outfit for polaroids that she dated and then put into a lookbook she started for him. She had told him she planned to document every outfit she styled for him and Harry had been so excited. The outfits he wore in the video were received with praise when it was finally released, and Harry and Y/N were overjoyed. There was already a party for its release, but they both were especially happy that night. Throughout the evening, Harry and Y/N would gravitate to one another and fall into side conversations about the outfits and what people had been saying. Even if Harry said it didn’t matter, he and Y/N both knew, at the end of the day, they loved when people were happy with their work.  

“Sure,” he bounced to his feet, but Y/N made a hand motion telling him that he could stay seated. He settled back down as she crossed over and sat beside him on his couch.

She was at his house in London today planning his next few appearances that were promotion for the upcoming album, Saturday Night Live was next. Harry had been taking a break from their work until she had come in.

It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to be at his house, they had been working together for months now. First, it had been for his outfits in his music videos that were filmed in late summer and early fall, like Lights up, but also a few other ones. Now, it was clothing for promo appearances, interviews, and listening parties. Next, it would be tour outfits, which she had already started planning, but officially, they hadn’t started discussions yet. Harry had helped her to get a flat closer to his house in London just for her to be able to head over and help with the planning or fitting of his outfits more easily. She also was constantly traveling with him to his appearances, making sure outfits were perfect right before whatever show it was or making last minute adjustments in case either of them decided something wasn’t right.

While Harry was a big guy, his waist was far trimmer than a usual man built to his size, this meant she had to take in a lot of his trousers at the waist. As well, with his shirts and coats, she’d have to take them in or out depending on how Harry wanted the fit to be - either perfectly tight or perfectly oversized. He was particular, but she appreciated his drive for fashion and how he cared for his appearance. Before performances, she often had to take things in or out based on any body fluctuation that had occurred since the initial fitting.

She was looking at her sketchpad that held all of her notes on his clothes - which was different from the lookbook of polaroids - including patches of the actual colors and little Harry figures dressed in what he was going to wear. Right now, she had the pad opened to a page titled “SNL Opener - November 16, 2019”.

“So I was thinking with your opening monologue outfit, it might look better to have a different colored blazer? A matching yellow would be great, but if you did more of a toned down - maybe light tan or beige - blazer with gold embellishments, you’d elevate it to look sophisticated and stylish, rather than just stylish. It’d be exactly like the runway look - which I know you sometimes don’t like, but I think it’s what looks best.”

She ran her finger between two swatches of what she thought would be the better blazer color and the one Harry had originally wanted. He wet his lips and gazed at the page as he thought about what she said. Normally, she liked monochrome on him, but she thought the deep blue underneath a completely yellow suit might wash him out on the stage.

“Yeah,” he pointed to the top beige swatch, “I think I do like this better.” He paused and turned his head to Y/N, looking in her eyes before asking, “Is that all?”

“Er...no,” Y/N ran a hand over her unstyled hair, slightly fluffed by her constant musing of it. She often fiddled with it while she worked, better than biting nails she always said when confronted about her tick. After a sigh Y/N continued, “I was just on the phone with Jane from Gucci and she said that for Look 57 they could only send your technical size, for some reason they can’t custom make it. Meaning, I’ll have to tailor the whole thing to you when it arrives. Is that alright? Or do you want to choose something else?”

She flipped to a page that said “SNL WS.” Harry followed her hands and nodded realizing she was talking about the Gucci suit he wanted to wear for Watermelon Sugar. It was a watermelon’s inside red. When he had found out the suit came in that color, he had danced around the dining table for what Y/N had felt like was an hour, humming the tune of Watermelon Sugar excitedly. Finally, she had coaxed him to sit back down and get back to their other work, which was still picking out clothes.

“No, that’s fine,” Harry shook his head and used his thumb to scratch under his lips absentmindedly, “It really needs to be that color.”

She nodded, she knew what his answer was going to be, but she also knew he still liked to make the final decision.

“Alright, we’ll just have to meet for longer when everything arrives, to tailor that one. Then the rest of them should just be making sure the fit is perfect.”

She rose up from her seat and patted Harry’s shoulder, leaving him to his thoughts, as she went back to finish up the calls with Jane and the designers.

He caught her hand in his before she completely walked away, “Thank you, Y/N.” He was so grateful he had hired someone who was as driven as he was and understood his fashion sense and wanted to help enhance what he was thinking, rather than someone trying to control him or just going along with whatever he said. Neither would be productive or helpful, thankfully Y/N loved her job and cared to do things right.

She grinned before exiting, “H, you’re going to be this century’s style icon if it’s the last thing I do.” He laughed as she walked out of the room, leaning back on the couch to continue his lurking on Instagram.

-

One week later

“I’m here, H! I come bearing Gucci and more!” Y/N said as she shuffled through Harry’s front door, she held a deconstructed rack and a garment bag filled with heavy suits and things. Inside were Harry’s four most important outfits for SNL, some other garments for SNL, and some clothes they had talked about for his upcoming listening sessions later in the month. Y/N needed to check the fit on all of them and begin tailoring the Watermelon Sugar suit. The key Harry had given to Y/N, previously, had let her in, but she assumed he was home. He said he’d be.

When Y/N rounded the corner she found another empty room. Confused, she set down her large items and went to search for Harry. Y/N literally needed him to be here for this part. It was the only real time she actually needed to see him in person - but that was beside the point.

“H?”

She wandered through the different rooms of his home. Normally, Y/N didn’t go into the other rooms, she was always mainly in his lounge area, the dining room, and a little casual office room he had - sometimes the kitchen for water, his bedroom once. Still not finding him, she decided to venture to the furthest door, Harry’s bedroom, she remembered.

Harry groaned at the sound of a knock on his door, he rolled over in his bed. After a few moments of hearing nothing else than his groan, Y/N felt like she had to go in and check on him.

“H, it’s 12:30 and we agreed we’d meet at noon. Are you feeling alright?”

Y/N moved into the room and found a shirtless Harry surrounded by rumpled sheets, clutching at a pillow. He groaned into his pillow again in response. Her legs bent at the edge of the bed and she reached out to smooth some of his chestnut hair out of his face, “What’s wrong?”

He moved his head to allow his eyes to look at her, “‘M so tired, don’t know why. My stomach kind of hurts too…” Y/N looked at him quizzically, before running her hand over his tan forehead once more, this time checking for a fever. “You don’t have a fever. When did you go to sleep? Have you eaten anything today?” With her help, Harry moved into a seated position, head tilted back against the bedpost. He sat silent for a moment before blowing air out of his mouth. “Went to sleep kind of late for me, I guess...Haven’t eaten.”

“Ok, you’re just tired from staying up late, you old man, and you might be a little dehydrated and hungry. Listen, I’ll go make you some food if you get up and prepare yourself for the day. We need to get all your clothes fitted so that I can fix anything before next week.” Y/N was always good at getting Harry back on track when he got distracted - or even out of the station, when he wasn’t in the mood to work on something. She slid from her perch on the bed and walked to almost the edge of the room before Harry called her back.

“Can you pick out my clothes for me?” His soft, tired voice whined. “So hard...and you’ve got the best eye. Pleaseeee,” he pleaded softly.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N sighed and made her way back into his room. Crossing to the door that led to his walk-in closet, she set to work. As silly as he was being, she could never pass up on a chance to pick out an outfit for Harry.

“You’re literally going to be changing the entire time, H, you could have just thrown on sweats,” she called back to him once inside the smaller room. He repeated how she always picked the right thing, even for just around the house. Again, Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry, but she also couldn’t hide the warm smile on her face that was due to his compliment.

She couldn’t believe how dramatic Harry could be sometimes. Right now, he was a lesser form of hungover and he was acting like his life was ending. Y/N had made a note a while ago to never agree to a meeting on the day after any partying. She learned the hard way one particularly terrible Sunday. She had come round his house at a similar time, noon-ish and found Harry dead asleep, backwards in his bed. When she had roused him, his only responses were grumbles and groans. She had to not only pick out his clothes, but also help dress him. Then, after providing water and aspirin, she moved all their work into his bedroom so they could work from there. Harry had proved to be a baby when it came to hangovers.  But, she hadn’t realized he could get like this even without being truly hungover.

After settling on his live aid t-shirt, that Y/N was eternally jealous of, located at the front of his drawer and his favorite corduroy trousers, she walked out and threw them in the direction of his toned, but slumped body. “I will not get you boxers, that is most definitely not in my job description, Boss.” Y/N sent a pointed look in his direction, moving to finally leave the room. While he was technically her boss as her employer, their work relationship was extremely collaborative and it never felt like he was in control of her, she just liked to give him shit for being a drama queen.

“Guess I’ll be going commando. How’s that going to work with me changing in front of you a bunch of times?” He teased right back, taking the clothes you had thrown at him and giving them a onceover. His teasing signalled that he was already feeling better.

Y/N shook her head and walked out of the room, “For the love of God, Harry, please put on underwear before you come out and continuously strip in front of me!”

The words he shouted after that were muffled, but they were something along the lines of how the human body is beautiful and shouldn’t be covered up. Unbelievable. As she set to work on making both of them some lunch, she finally heard Harry begin moving around. They had a lot of work to do as it was and whenever Harry was in a mood, whether it be a good mood or a bad mood, they always seemed to have a hard time focusing.

One night, that could be seen as the poster child for Harry and Y/N’s procrastination, was during the planning for the Adore You music video. Harry was in a super good mood that day and he had brought that energy to their meeting at his house. Y/N was supposed to be fitting him for the various outfits, but Harry, in his mania, ordered an overzealous amount of Chinese food. It took her and Harry hours to even make a dent in the food. And while they passed the time with eating, Harry and Y/N got further and further from their tasks, opting for conversations that included more fun topics than work. They had gossipped about some of the other people they worked with, Harry had begged for “the tea” about some of his other staffers and Y/N was happy to oblige. As much as Y/N would hate to admit it, she loved when they got off of work subjects and talked about how their day’s had been and what has been on their nerves lately. It was a nice way to decompress, it was like hanging out with a friend, except it wasn’t, not really.

Harry shuffled into the kitchen wearing what Y/N had picked out for him. Her smile grew knowing that he hadn’t changed what she’d picked. His confidence in her and her abilities never failed to feel like the biggest compliment.

“Go sit at the dining table, I’ve made us some little sandwiches and then we can decide the order we want to go through the outfits in.”

Before following Y/N’s orders, Harry continued his shuffling around, first to the cabinet for a glass, then to the fridge for water. At the end of the table, she set the plates between the head of the table’s spot and the one to its left. Harry took the side spot, so Y/N was on the end. After a bite of his food, Harry moaned loudly in contentment. This caused an amused look on Y/N’s face, there had been nothing special in his house so she had just made what was possible. This meant that Harry’s satisfaction was a little over the top.

“You’re acting like you haven’t eaten in a week. What did you do last night that got you in such a twist?” Y/N asked as she took a sip of her own glass of water. Harry nibbled at his lower lip after swallowing, trying to understand why he was particularly tired today.

“I guess I forgot to eat properly yesterday and then I went out running. And I stayed up late on the phone with,” he paused, eyes flashing to Y/N and then away again, “someone for SNL.”

Y/N hummed at his words before going back to her own eating. She didn’t understand why he hesitated about telling her he’d been on the phone last night, it especially irked her that he wouldn’t even say with whom. Professionally, it wasn’t really her business, but Harry was never secretive with her. Plus, it seemed to be work related so why was he being so flighty about it.

Moving forward, Harry peppier from eating and simply moving around, the pair set to work. They decided on trying on everything else first and then saving the Watermelon Sugar suit to the end. The other three main pieces for the night fit perfectly, Y/N had to only do minor reworks of certain areas.

“H, I need you to hold still…” Y/N interrupted Harry’s ramblings as she was crouched beside him.

She had to take up the hem on the pant legs so right now she was trying to pin them in the place she and Harry had agreed upon, without messing with the pleats.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, straightening out his back to stand taller.

He stayed quiet for a bit until Y/N popped back up, she looked at her notebook for reference on what she still had to tailor.

“Okay, next, the pants crotch is looking pretty fitted, so I assume you want it taken down a bit,” Y/N said as she got back into her crouching position. “Look in the mirror and tell me where you think letting it out looks best, I don’t have the best vantage point when I’m up this close…” she trailed off, placing her measuring tape directly on top of Harry’s crotch and running it down his leg a ways.

Once done with her first attempt at where she thought was best to let the pants out, she turned her eyes to the mirror that showed Harry in his suit with Y/N on her knees before him. Harry cleared his throat as he looked in the mirror, seeing Y/N with her eyes wide in anticipation in the position she was in made him want to run and hide. Her hands were extremely close to his dick, but it was literally her job, he knew he had to shake the thoughts that were running through his mind.

“Maybe just a bit further up actually, as much as I like the high waist with dropped crotch, I want this suit to have that specifically tailored look,” his hands motioned for Y/N to bring the drop up a ways.

Her hands then brought the measuring tape up, once again grazing over his area. Again, Y/N looked at Harry through the mirror for approval, and this time he gave it and she placed a single pin in the place where the pants would be let out to.

Standing up, Y/N hoped Harry didn’t notice the blush gracing her face. She was a stylist and used to being around naked bodies as well as touching around a man’s crotch when working. But Harry in this suit must have been magic, because she had felt extremely vulnerable on her knees in front of him in it. She had felt flushed the minute he hadn’t liked what she had done initially and she hated that she felt that way for some reason. Beginning to work on the sleeves of the suit set her at ease, Y/N was thankful to no longer be kneeling or in such close proximity to what was under Harry’s pants.

“Anything on your mind of late?” Harry broke the silence.

Y/N hummed with a pin stuck between her lips, folding up the suit jacket’s right sleeve. Plucking it from her mouth after a few silent moments, she said, “Not really, haven’t had time to do much else lately. Always thinking about you,” Y/N flushed as she realized what she had just said. “I mean, thinking about you like about your clothes and when they’re going to arrive and what I need to do about them, not you personally, sorry that came out wrong,” her blush intensified as she rapidly fumbled through her last sentence.

“Ow!”

“Oh my god!”

While Y/N had gotten flustered with her words, she managed to stick the pin she was using straight into Harry’s flesh. She immediately removed the pin from where it had stuck him.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, H, we’ve got to get this off. I need to make sure you’re not bleeding onto the suit.”

Y/N rushed around to Harry's backside and began slipping off his suit jacket as Harry chuckled and began to unbutton the shirt as carefully as possible.

“‘S alright, Y/N, if there’s any blood on the shirt it’ll blend in, blood is practically the same color.” She glared at him through the mirror and Harry continued to laugh, “That is not funny, H, I shouldn’t have stuck you in the first place.”

“No, no,” Harry hushed Y/N as she began to slip off his shirt from one side to the other, taking off the sleeve on the side she hadn’t poked, “you’ve got so much on your plate with all the planning for the upcoming events. Then you worked yourself up over a little slip.” As Y/N carefully unbuttoned the cuff of the sleeve to try and slip off the shirt with the least amount of blood on it as possible, Harry finished with, “I wouldn’t mind if you were just thinking about me, though, an’ not the clothes.”

This time, Y/N was very in control, not willing to let herself slip up a second time today. She didn’t know how to respond to what Harry had just admitted. It wasn’t like this hasn't happened before. Both of them were guilty of making little comments that made it sound like they were interested in each other in a way that was a little different than professional or friendly. But every time the other person always had the responsibility to shut the idea down or completely blow past what their counter had just said.

“Harry…” She began, it was soft and pleading, like she was saying she couldn’t entertain that idea. Examining his forearm, after pulling the shirt completely away and resting it on a nearby chair, she saw a little spot of blood protruding from the pin prick she had caused. “Where do you keep your bandages?” Y/N decided that it was best to brush past Harry’s words this time and went off to find his first aid kit. Harry stood there, shirtless, staring at the blood on his arm. It really wasn’t a lot and it wouldn’t have done anything to the suit, but Y/N was always so careful and never wanted to ruin any of Harry’s clothes.

On her return, Y/N came upon a shirtless Harry perched on the edge of the table, with one arm crossed and his other - that was bleeding - being held slightly away from his body, as if Harry was afraid to touch it. His posture was slumped so Y/N could see his spine curving beneath his tanned honey-soft skin and his shoulder blades slightly flexed. While most of Harry’s body was covered in tattoos, she noticed how the closest tattoo to his back was the small line drawing of a guitar on the back of his left shoulder. Other than that his smooth back was bare. Y/N found it interesting that Harry had never chosen to ink his back. She jogged lightly back into the room and Harry’s head turned to watch her approach. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he regarded her. She noticed he was being particularly quiet, but she had no idea why. Maybe he was still tired.

Y/N set to work on finding the correct tissue, neosporin, and bandage for Harry’s small wound. As she worked on fixing up her mistake, Harry’s eyes followed her movements. Green eyes flickering between her hands on his arm and her own eyes focusing on her task.

“After this, I actually can just head home and finish the rest of the work,” Y/N said as she unpackaged the bandage, “I already know where I need to take in the suit sleeves and the shirt’s sleeves were looking fine. So, I can get out of your hair and you can get to sleep early tonight.” She placed the nude toned bandage over Harry’s arm, she was a little sad to find he didn’t own fun bandages. That was something that she expected from Harry, but she resigned that maybe she didn’t know everything about Harry.

Before Harry could speak, Y/N continued, “Don’t rehearsals for the show start tomorrow? When are you flying to New York?” She ran her hand over the bandage, smoothing it in place. Her hand lingered there as her eyes looked up and met Harry’s. Harry twitched his arm away from Y/N’s touch and scratched his nose slightly.

“Yeah, I’m flying out tomorrow morning. When are you set to fly out?”

“Friday. I’ll get in before the final dress rehearsal and then I’ll be there for the show.” Y/N stepped back and began to rehang the suit jacket and shirt that they had discarded in her haste to not get blood on them.

Then Y/N stood there staring at Harry. He looked at her slightly confused by her doing nothing when she said she was leaving. “Pants, H.” She said finally when she realized he had forgotten he was still wearing the suit pants. “Oh! Sorry,” Harry exclaimed as he began to unbutton and remove the pants he was wearing. He handed her the pants and she exchanged them with his live-aid t shirt. He took it graciously before slipping it on and disguising his toned body beneath it. Then he took his pants from earlier and fully redressed himself.

“Damn!” Y/N said and Harry’s head flipped to watch her as she began to put all of the clothing back in their garment bags and take down the rack.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just pinched myself with the rack, I’m all left feet today.”

“Here,” Harry chuckled as he walked over to help Y/N, “let me help you with all this. Just in the boot of your car, yeah?” Y/N nodded and smiled in appreciation for Harry. He grabbed her keys laying on the table and then took the rack and a garment bag. Even if things sometimes got tense between them, for whatever reason, he was always quick to move past it and be thoughtful and kind in the best ways for Y/N. After shaking her hand out, she grabbed the last garment bags and followed Harry out to her car. Harry shut the back of her car softly and turned to face Y/N, she stood beside her car door, ever so slightly leaning against it. He walked to her side and smiled.

“I’ll see you in a week,” he said before wrapping his arms around Y/N’s much smaller frame. His body was radiating heat and it felt good against Y/N in the crisp night air of London. She pressed into his hold and wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him hard. “Less than...Can’t wait to see you make an absolute fool of yourself out there.” Harry protested her tease with a small, “Hey!” but mostly focused on his hands on her back and the way her hair felt especially soft under his chin. Finally, Y/N pulled away, “Kidding! You’ll be amazing and you’ll look killer while doing it.” She winked before opening her car door and driving off. Harry was left with the lingering scent of her perfume and shampoo mingling in his nose.

-

It was the Saturday night, November 16th, 2019.

Harry and Y/N were in his dressing room before the show started. His outfits for the night were lined up, except for his opener one that Y/N had just dressed him in. His first change would be for Light’s Up, then a couple skit outfits that had to be moved elsewhere for quick changes, then the Watermelon Sugar suit, and then finally his end of the show casual look. The opener looked incredible, it’s fit was impeccable and Y/N knew people were going to love it.

She stepped back from Harry to give his whole body a once over, the SNL hairstylist had just blown out his hair and given him a sort of middle part. It definitely looked good and paired with the suit - Y/N could already tell it was going to be a hit by all accounts. Harry grinned back at her, doing a little dance to show just how much he was loving his clothes and how excited he was.

Grabbing the lint roller, Y/N gave the lapels of his suit jacket a once over and then moved it slightly out of the way to roll the big collar of Harry’s shirt and the bits of the body of the shirt that were showing underneath the jacket. Basically, Y/N was lint rolling over Harry’s clothed abs. Apparently, that was a ticklish area for Harry because he began to squirm and giggle under the tool’s touch.

“Seriously, H?”

She smiled as she said it, so excited for Harry that she couldn’t be mad at his relestness.

“Can’t help it. ‘M so giddy. Plus, I’m a wee bit ticklish.”

Y/N gave him a single laugh before removing the lint roller and smoothing over the shirt against his stomach and then over the lapels when she put the jacket back in place. She adjusted the Gucci reader’s she was wearing today, that were more for decoration than anything, but she liked to pretend they made her see better.

“You look smashing, Mr. Styles. Absolutely gorgeous, if I do say so myself.”

“Are you talking to me or the suit?” Harry asked as he flipped to look in the full length mirror in the dressing room.

“Can’t it be both?”

“Sure,” Harry said, he noticed the clock and realized it was his time to get in places. He leaned down and placed a small kiss on Y/N’s cheek, “It’s my time, thank you, Y/N.” She blushed at his words and actions. As he walked out the door, she called after him, “Break a leg, H!” He sent a final air kiss in her direction before completely disappearing.

She looked at the clothes hanging on the rack in the room and palmed over the fabric. Checking the lapels and brushing the lint roller over the, she finally stepped back and was happy with how they looked. When the show was just about to start, she flitted to the part of backstage where she could watch Harry perform. She giggled along to his monologue and grinned whole-heartedly when the crowd would roar with approval. Y/N had heard all of the jokes already because of the dress rehearsal yesterday, but it didn’t matter. Harry was killing it. She also took time to appreciate how good Harry looked in his suit on stage. In front of the lights and all the people, his suit shined brightly with the pops of blue and yellow and the oversized grey-iege jacket. His soft chestnut hair billowed perfectly to frame his forehead as he sipped from the faux martini. Y/N bit her lip to stifle her laugh. The fact that Harry, her boss and friend, was up on the Saturday Night Live stage with pink and blue nails sipping from a faux martini, it was perfect.

When Harry came back for his first performance change Y/N was right there waiting for him.

“Hi, that was really good,” she smiled up at him as he began to take off his coat.

He smiled brightly back at her as he exhaled a hefty breath, “You think so?”

“Yes! C’mon, everyone loved it. You delivered it all perfectly…” she took over undoing the buttons on the shirt because Harry was moving too slowly. “I’m in a man band now…” Y/N mumbled under her breath before chuckling.

“Did you just imitate my accent?” Harry said, now pulling off his sleeves.

Y/N moved around his back to take the shirt to hang and grab his Lights Up outfit. They worked like a well-oiled machine together, constantly taking over roles to get things done more efficiently, but never stepping on each other’s toes.

“Nope,” she winked before handing him the black sequin jumpsuit and exchanging it for his yellow pants. After rehanging the pants and bringing over Harry’s different set of boots, Y/N said, “Y’know, I’d have to say that your hair is giving your suit a run for its money.” She placed the shoes on the table beside Harry and began to fix into the place different parts of the jumpsuit, moving to zip up the back and then coming to the front to smooth it.

“What do you mean?” Harry looked in the mirror and delicately touched the edges of his hair, considering Y/N’s statement.

“No one ever really sees it how it is, nicely blown out but not too much product so it falls to frame your face. What’d you tell the hair person you wanted?” Y/N stepped back to allow Harry to change his boots from one Gucci pair to another, like he did with most of his wardrobe.

“Just told them to make me look mature. You think it looks good?” He looked up at Y/N when he asked the question.

“Think it looks sexy, that’s what I’m saying, no one’s gonna be able to focus on your clothes with how good your hair looks.”

“Ah,” he deftly runs his hands down his suit as he looks in the mirror.

Y/N just stares at Harry, checking him over one more time. She wasn’t lying about his hair, it was sexy and she wanted to run her hands through it to feel how soft it was. In a complete friend way of course.

“I like it…”

“It looks like you just rolled out of bed, but the bed was made of angel feathers.”

Harry laughed at Y/N’s description. He shifted his body to face her more and moved closer to her in the process.

“Alright, you should probably get back out there,” Y/N closes the gap between them and adjusts the chain of his jade and silver crosses and brushes over his broad shoulders.

They’re professional touches, but her movements hold an undercurrent of intimacy that neither of them realize. If anyone had been looking on, they would see how Y/N’s fingers delicately caressed Harry’s skin right before she cradled the pendants to move them in place. They would also see Harry instinctively lean forward into her touch and breathe slightly deeper to take in her scent. When she brushes over his shoulders, he straightens up at the touch and shows he’s ready to get back out there. It’s as if she prepared him to go.

Harry sings Lights Up and the crowd loves it. Sarah kills her drumming and Mitch eats up lead guitar. The backup singers bring out a different tone to the song. It is all around an amazing performance.

As Y/N clapped along with the crowd from backstage, Aidy Bryant approaches her.

“You’re Harry’s stylist, right?”

Y/N turns her head at the woman next to her, “Yeah?”

Aidy smiles, eyes slightly gleaming, “Well, you’re wonderful at your job.” As Y/N is about to thank her, Aidy continues, “And Harry knows that too, he talked about you all week. We all thought you were his girlfriend at first.”

Y/N laughed lightly and had to keep herself from letting her jaw drop at Aidy’s words. She even choked a bit on her own spit and had to cough slightly before even being able to think of a response, “Well, um, yeah...no, H, Harry is just my employer and...friend. No dating, we just get along well. Which is important since we spend a lot of time together - for work of course!”

Aidy smiled sweetly at Y/N, “Yeah, Harry explained that when Beck asked him how long you’d been together. At first he had said a couple months and then said ‘wait, Y/N is just my stylist, we’ve been working together for a couple months’ and then we all felt really dumb.”

“Don’t feel dumb,” Y/N reassured her, unsure why she was actually continuing this conversation, “He loves to talk about clothes and that’s where I fit in to his life, so I’m sure my name would come up a fair bit. Was that it?”

“Yeah I guess, but-” Aidy began to say more, but Y/N cut her off.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry, but Harry’s finished and I’ve got to go help him change for his next song.”

Aidy was left in Y/N’s wake, chuckling to herself, fully reassured about the reason that they had all thought Harry had been dating Y/N. Because they already acted like a couple. And they were both helplessly in love with one another and neither of them knew.

The rest of the show went off without a hitch. Harry continued to wow the crowd and Y/N sent him off from his dressing room always looking fabulous. Just as he was about to walk back on stage for his final farewell, Y/N noticed a tiny string on his trousers zipper. Unable to stop Harry and unable to grab at the string without looking odd, she had to let him walk on stage with it. It wasn’t actually a big deal, but Y/N sighed in annoyance because she knew that string was going to bug her for the rest of the night.

“Treat People With Kindness!” Harry finishes off his farewell.

Applause begins to sound and the cast is out front hugging and chatting, while Y/N is watching from the side still fixated on the string on Harry’s pants, now simply dangling. Finally, they begin to clear the stage because it’s time for the after party. Y/N knew there was no stealing Harry away to fix the problem that was now fixated in her mind. Every cast and crew member was trying to talk to him, congratulating him, hugging him, anything to spend time with the incredible man. Y/N couldn’t blame them, but she also wanted to be able to go some place quiet and debrief with Harry about his outfits. She wanted to look up what people were saying about his clothes and discuss the critiques with Harry. She also wanted to start discussing what was coming next with Harry. But most of all, she just wanted to hang out with Harry.

What Y/N wanted wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, which she knew, but it still only grew her annoyance with that string. If only she could get it off of him, maybe then her mind would be able to relax a little.

She meandered backstage, resigned she wouldn’t be talking to Harry for a while. There she went to find the band’s dressing room, knowing she would find Mitch or Sarah who she’d be happy to talk to. They weren’t ones for the spotlight and no one ever really seemed to want to brownnose with them at events like this. Y/N had met them a few times.

The first was when Harry had asked Y/N to meet him in the studio in mid July, Mitch and Sarah had both been there helping Harry finish up something for the album. Y/N never asked what, she liked music quite a bit, but when it came to the technical part of it, it went completely over her head. Harry had introduced them both and they seemed lovely. After that, she had seen them around for an event or two of Harry’s. It wasn’t much, but it was more than any of the other people around right now.

Just as she was about to knock on the door it swung open, revealing Harry’s entire backing band. “Hey,” Y/N said sheepishly, “Harry’s being fawned over by the masses and I don’t actually know anyone else here. Is it alright if I hang out with you all at this after party? I doubt there’s going to be anyone really dying to meet the stylist.”

She smoothed her own clothes as she spoke. Y/N wanted to look professional tonight because sometimes when she was dressed in more fun or “young” clothes she got mistaken for someone who had snuck in. The only thing that got people to not question her authority to be where she was, was a card that read ‘staff’ that she would clip onto whatever she was wearing at places like this. Tonight, she chose a pair of purple plaid pants, a sleek lilac tank underneath a cream knit shawl, and cream Gucci mules.  Ever since Harry took an interest in Y/N’s pearl necklace, she had largely stopped wearing hers because she hoped never to be photographed matching with him. However, she had known the pearls would have completed the look, even putting them on in her hotel room, twisting a pearl in her hand as she looked in the mirror, and then taking the necklace off again and settling on a different silver necklace instead. The ‘staff’ card was clipped to her pants pocket tonight.

“Of course!” Sarah said as the band began to file out of the room, “You might want to take your tag off now, though, you’re done working for the night.”

Her laughter rang sweetly through Y/N’s ears and she smiled back before removing her identifying card. She hated the piece of plastic and was glad to take it off, it never went with her outfits, but she had gotten tired of taking out her business card every time someone asked what she was doing. Y/N was sure that during the tour she’d be fine without it, but as Harry’s show appearances were beginning to ramp up she knew it would be helpful to have.

“Thanks...you all were amazing out there tonight. Second time on the SNL stage right?”

The group of you began to walk in the direction of where the after party was being held. Mitch piped up, “Thanks. Yeah, I love their box stage setup, it’s pretty cool.” Y/N was happy that she had people who were easy to talk to so that she wouldn’t be alone tonight.

Arriving in the room of the party, they were all quick to grab the alcohol that was being provided at the pop up bar. Y/N wasn’t normally a fan of drinking at events like these, mainly because she was not usually invited to this part of the night and when she was she wanted to be alert. But she figured there wasn’t much else to do so she took a hearty sip of the champagne. It was a little sweet, her face scrunched.

“Too sweet?” Mitch questioned when he saw Y/N’s face.

“Just a little for my taste.”

“Harry’s not going to be drinking tonight then. So particular about his alcohol,” Mitch continued.

Y/N laughed, “Well I’m glad, then I don’t have to deal with him being a baby about his hangover tomorrow.”

Mitch quirked an eyebrow at Y/N’s statement. Sarah and the others in the band had dispersed to mingle with the SNL party goers, leaving Mitch and Y/N to their conversation.

Realizing what she said could be seen as slightly weird out of context, Y/N quickly started again, “because I’m supposed to go shopping with Harry tomorrow. He wanted to go to Gucci and a couple other stores here before flying to LA. I’m going back to London until the listening parties, so we need to figure out the finishing touches for those and..” Y/N trailed off trying to remember which looks weren’t completed yet for the next few shows, Mitch waited patiently, “a few of the suits for the Late Late Show. He’s not happy with one of them so we might switch it. But anyway, you know how he is with a hangover. Proper child.”

Mitch threw his head back in laughter at Y/N’s serious look that she gave him. “Yeah, he can be...a lot. I meant to tell you, Harry looked great tonight. All of the clothes were fantastic,” Mitch added.

He was kind and Y/N appreciated him sticking with her. The two of them had rested themselves against a wall near the bar, sipping their champagne and enjoying each other’s company.

“Thank you.”

Mitch opened his mouth to say something else, but Heidi Gardener, another SNL member interrupted.

“Y/N, right!?”

Y/N and Mitch both turn to her, equally taken aback by the sudden burst of energy from this person they didn’t really know. Y/N nodded.

“Oh my gosh! You have to tell me where you got the jacket Harry is wearing!”

Heidi even goes as far to point in Harry’s direction. Y/N knows what she’s talking about, but her eyes still wander to where she pointed. Harry stood in a clump of people, surrounded by Ben Winston, James Corden, and the Gerbers who had all come to watch. She sighed as she watched his eyes shine as he laughed with a smile on his face. She hoped that by now the string had fallen off his pants by now, if not she was going to kick herself later.

“Oh, it’s Bode,” Y/N’s eyes coming back to meet Heidi’s happy face, “but it’s custom made from a vintage blanket. There’s only two that exist.”

Y/N and Mitch watched as Heidi’s face dropped.

“And I’m pretty sure the designer owns the other one,” Y/N added, “Sorry.”

Heidi smiles and jokes, “Know any ways I could possibly get Harry to give me his?”

“He loves that coat. I have no idea what you could possibly do to convince him he didn’t need it anymore.”

“Sex, probably,” Mitch says under his breath.

Heidi doesn’t catch it as she walks back off and Y/N turns to swat him with her free hand.  

“What? He always gives away his clothes to girl’s he has crushes on.” Y/N rolls her eyes at Mitch’s words.

“Probably best if you don’t inform the masses about that,” a new voice says.

Unbeknownst to Mitch and Y/N, Harry had broken away from his entourage to steal a few minutes with his two friends, his best friends if he was being honest. They laugh together as he wraps his arms around their shoulders and pulls them both into his chest. Y/N feels the warmth radiating from Harry’s body as she snuggles into his side. Her hand wraps under his jacket and around his waist to squeeze right about his hip bone. His face is gleaming with a small sheen of sweat, but his smile is so big she barely notices his perspiration as he looks down at her.

“Heard you were talkin’ shit?”

Mitch quips, “Us? Never.”

Harry scoffs, “Come off it!”

When he releases Y/N and Mitch from his grasp, Mitch straightens up while Y/N’s eyes immediately go down to Harry’s crotch. She’s not paying attention to their conversation as she tries to make out in the dim light whether the string is gone or not. The men realize she’s not listening and they both follow her gaze.

Confused, Harry asks, “Y/N, any particular reason you’re staring at my dick?”

Her head shoots up, eyes wide and cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

“I wasn’t!”

Mitch laughs and decides he wants another glass of champagne right then, mumbling something about how that was his cue. Harry smiles, knowing she wasn’t doing what he had said, but still intrigued to know what was going on in her mind.

“You had a string right on your zipper and it’s been bugging me since you went out for your outro. This is the first time I’ve seen you on your own and I couldn't exactly go up to you in a random crowd and grab at your crotch. But now I can’t see in this light…” Y/N bit at her lower lip and furrowed her brow still trying to see if the string was there.

“Have you really been thinking about it this whole time?” Harry asked, slightly concerned.

“Yes...I know it doesn’t matter, but I just want your clothes to look perfect.”

Harry takes a deep breath as he makes a small smile at Y/N. Then he brushes over the front of his pants, hoping he removes the string if it's still attached to him. “There, I’m sure it’s gone now. I’m sorry you had to worry about that. Just know everyone I’ve talked to has been raving about the clothes.” He placed his ring-clad hand on Y/N’s upper arm and squeezed it.

“You did an amazing job,” Y/N said.

Harry pulls her into his chest one more time. This time without Mitch so both of Harry’s arms go around her shoulders and both of hers go around his slender waist. Again her hands disappear under his coat and thumb over his warm white t-shirt, her face resting on his chest right next to the word ‘Sex’. His arms tighten around her back as they rest there for a while. Y/N always has to make herself pull away, knowing that Harry will stay there for as long as he can - in anyone’s embrace - and remembering they’re in a public setting, she didn’t want anyone to assume things, even if she had already been made aware that people had.

“We’ll debrief more later tonight, yeah? The champagne is terrible so I won’t be drinking,” Harry said.

Y/N laughed under her breath as she smiled at his words. Mitch and her knew Harry too well. She nodded about getting together later, “Alright. Get back to your fan club.” Harry narrowed her eyes at her words, not sure if she was trying to sound sarcastic or not.

-

Hey, I’m back at the hotel. Just let me know when you want to debrief :) x

Y/N texted Harry the minute she got back to the hotel, she had no idea if he had left before her or was still at the after party. All she knew was that it was late and she was starting to get tired. Still, it was important for them to talk about their plans for tomorrow and she also really wanted to just be with him alone. Whenever they would debrief after big events Harry and Y/N would laugh at all the outrageous stuff they had seen go on throughout the night.

When she was still a freelance stylist she had helped Harry to plan his Camp outfit at the Met Gala. That night, they never even went to bed and had to debrief about the clothes the next afternoon over tea at the Palace. Both her and Harry were recovering from their exhaustion and nursing equally terrible hangovers. But there they were, sitting in the center of the dining area of the hotel, being served some of the nicest tea and sandwiches Y/N had ever had. It was amazing. Y/N had never felt that rich in her life before and Harry had told her the craziest stories about the most famous people in attendance. It was almost unbelievable what these people would reveal to Harry and Y/N was happy to listen to all of it, promising to never tell anyone else. That outing was probably the first time Harry realized he really liked Y/N and wanted to work more closely with her.

While tonight wasn’t quite as wild as the Met Gala had been, Y/N was still excited to hear any funny stories Harry might have in addition to their clothing talk. They really hadn’t had much time to chat since she had gotten to New York yesterday so it would be nice to just be alone together. Even if Y/N chalked their debriefs up to ‘shop talk’, she was always very excited for them.

As she reached her hotel room door, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry.

I’m still out, but should be heading back soon. Up to you if you want to wait up or we can just debrief in the morning while we shop. x H  

Y/N sighed at the message, she wanted to wait up and debrief before tomorrow, if not for alone time with Harry but professionally for being able to plan out their shopping tomorrow. Where Harry was carefree, Y/N was meticulous and planned out. She liked to have fun, but she knew when she had to get her work done, even when Harry was off in his own mind. Their work styles mostly coincided, Harry could be serious and focused, too, but often when he was surrounded by all his famous friends he had a hard time saying ‘no’ to whatever came up. So Y/N knew that Harry’s definition of ‘soon’ could range from actually soon to almost dawn. She really hoped he actually meant soon, so she shot him a text saying:

Just knock on my room and if I open it we can debrief lol x

Harry smiled down at his phone when Y/N’s text came through, slightly chuckling before double tapping and placing a heart reaction of her text. Then he was pulled into the limo that one of his friend’s had gotten them and was handed a flute of champagne.

Back at the hotel, Y/N threw her phone on the bed and decided to change and simply settle in for the night. If Harry made it back, he made it back and if he didn’t she’d wake up well rested.

Maybe thirty minutes into scrolling on her phone, Y/N heard a rough knock on her door. She was actually quite surprised that Harry had indeed been back soon. Rising from her snuggled place in the bed, she shifted around her night clothes and padded to her door. There stood, rather hung, a slightly disheveled Harry. His hair was whipped into disaster, something was smudged on his face, and she noticed a stain on his t-shirt that hadn’t been there the last time she’d been with him.

He slurred her name as he stumbled through the doorway. Y/N closed her eyes and sighed in exasperation. She was in awe that somehow Harry hadn’t gotten off his ass in the past hour and a half.

“What happened to not drinking tonight?”

She walked beside him and helped shove him into a sitting position on her bed. He flapped his arms, chaotically trying to get his plaid jacket off. Throwing her phone in the direction of her pillow, she moved to help Harry with his jacket. After quite a bit of strugglings, Y/N finally got the Bode jacket off of him successfully and threw it onto the nearby chair. Sighing, she settled beside him.

“So, Harry, care to explain?”

“Hi, Y/N…” He swayed slightly, attempting to face Y/N more. She threw out a hand to his shoulder, gripping him tightly to try and steady him.

“We went in this limousine, and they had champagne - good champagne - and I drank a bottle or so pretty quickly.”

“Or so? Oh Harry...I mean you’re free to make your own choices, but I don’t know if this was one of your best.”

“Wasn’t...wasn’t my idea. I was planning on just going back to the hotel. Then James convinced me to come out for a bit. Then the champagne was looking good so I went for it.”

“Like I said, you can make your own choices,” she patted his arm and went to the en suite bathroom to wet a washcloth to clean off his face.

“So, is it champagne on your shirt or am I going to have to go through hell to get the stain out?” She called.

Harry groaned and leaned back on the bed, fingering at the crisp white sheets. “Champagne,” he finally muttered as Y/N reappeared into the dim room, only the outside world and the light in the bathroom lighting this area.

“And on the face?”

She climbed onto the bed and kneeled beside Harry’s prone body, beginning to swipe at the smudge on his face. He tilted his head to face her, bringing the cheek with the dirt to lay facing perfectly up. His jawline showed perfectly and she felt the strength that laid beneath the skin she was washing.

His eyes flitted up to her face, trying to stop the spins he was currently experiencing. He hadn’t thought he was that drunk until he had been required to find his way up to their floor on his own.

“Lipstick?”

She sighed, running the washcloth over his cheek once more, and tried to push the image of some woman (or man who wore lipstick, she guessed) with her lips all over Harry’s face. She didn’t want to know who it was or why it was. It was too hard, especially after the day of people asking her about Harry and her relationship and insinuating things about him and his romantic life. She just liked to keep the words Harry and romance apart as much as possible, it made her life easier that way.

“It was only from-”

“It’s ok, Harry, I don’t need to know who you were…” She stopped herself, not even wanting to say ‘kissing’ or ‘snogging’ or even worse ‘shagging’. Adults were human beings and they could do a lot in an hour and a half. And again, she didn’t want to know.

“You keep doing that. Are you mad at me?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Calling me Harry, not ‘H’. Is it because you’re mad at me?”

“No,” she sighed, shifting to sit more casually, “No, I’m not mad at you. I just wasn’t expecting you to show up at my door like this. I try not to worry about you, but then when you show up like this, it kind of affirms I had reason to be concerned.”

She took a hand and smoothed over Harry’s tousled hair, he rolled his head back to face the ceiling. “Like I said, you’re an adult, capable of making his own decisions. And, I am just your stylist. I’m just glad you made it up here and knocked on my door. Probably would have given someone else a fright.”

He laughed, starting to sober up as the spinning in the room stopped. Her hands on his face and hair were soothing and sobering.

“Thank you for caring about me, love. And going beyond being just my stylist, you’re my friend Y/N.”

His eyes flickered shut and Y/N stared at his soothed features. His words were still slurred and she was sure the use of love was just his britishness slipping through his drunken state. The part about being more than a stylist, she tried to push it away, telling herself not to read more into it than her heart would like to. Even though he said she was a friend as well as a stylist and not anything more, it still sent so much joy through her body. He didn’t just see her as a work colleague and he had said it. But in his inebriated state, Y/N didn’t want to take everything he said as gospel.

She moved him up the bed with a little bit of his sleepy self’s help into a more comfortable position. It was pretty late now and she wasn’t going to kick him out. It would have been rude and unkind and that were two things Y/N rarely was. She went and grabbed the extra blanket from the cabinet and draped it over Harry’s large body for extra warmth since he refused to get under the covers. She also slipped off his boots and stained shirt per his request before getting into the other side of the bed and falling asleep.

-

She awoke to a shifting body beside her and she sat up confused as to who it could be. Quickly, Harry showing up drunk at her door came flooding back and she turned to look at the groaning Harry beside her. His arm was thrown over his face as he moaned, just waking up as well and experiencing the first bits of his hangover. This was going to be a long day.

“Hullo,” his voice was especially low, groggy and hoarse from the night before. He peaked over at her from behind the crook of his elbow. His eyelids barely open and his eyelashes weighing them down so much so that she could barely see his sleepy jade eyes.

“Good morning, H. Have a nice rest?” Y/N sat up and began to ready herself for the day, rummaging through her suitcase for an outfit and moving about the room.

Harry’s arms went to his sides as he worked to sit up, eyes following her figure as she moved around, seemingly not groggy very much unlike him. “Erm...I’m sorry for showing up pissed.”

“S’fine, H. Just glad you didn’t end up in a ditch or someone’s bed - someone’s that you might regret…” She barely regards him, throwing a single glance his way before shuffling to the bathroom to change. She knows they’ll be photographed today, it’s almost inevitable right now. Everyone knows Harry is in New York and people are buzzing to see him after his performance last night. She slips on the 70s inspired dress, the v-neck and long sleeves settling perfectly on her frame, it hugs her curves and lands around mid-thigh. Rolling on the bold mustard yellow tights and strapping up the brown leather mary jane heels, she looks herself over in the mirror. She then tries to tame her hair and do the rest of her routine, knowing she needed to get on with the day, shopping first and flying home second. Making sure Harry was okay was also on that list, but she couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t a little disappointed in him after last night.

When she returns, Harry is sitting with his legs hanging off the edge of the bed, head hanging as he’s hunched over himself. “C’mon, you gotta get going, kid. Lots to do today.” She’s pacing over to Harry’s deflated figure to pick him up and prompt him to get moving. When she arrives by his side his head lifts and his now more awake eyes stare up at her.

“I’m sorry for yesterday, really. I mean it.”  

“I told you already. It’s fine.”

“It’s not - or it wasn’t. You called me ‘Harry’ last night. I don’t think I’ve heard you call me that to my face since we started working together. I took your answer last night because I was swimming in it, but now, thinking about it. I know you were upset.”

She huffs, taking a seat beside Harry on the bed, choosing to not look at him, slightly confused why she had been so upset and why he was pushing it. “Ok, yeah I was annoyed, but I was also genuinely worried. I didn’t know you could physically get that drunk in that small amount of time. And then you show up at my door with somebody else’s…” Y/N falters, catching her slip up and deciding to fix her gaze on her shoes and their intricate design built into the leather.

“You’re upset that I had lipstick on me?” He’s trying to meet Y/N’s gaze, but her eyes are really interested in her shoes. His tone is confused, he’s trying to understand what’s going on in her mind.

She scoffs, risking a glance to Harry but then returns quickly back to her dress this time. “Please...it was just inconvenient for me, okay? Thought we were going to debrief and stayed up late for you. Then I had to take care of you after you hung out with your famous pals and I had barely even seen you all day. Felt a bit used.”

Harry shifted in the bed, turning to face her by tucking one leg beneath him. He places a hand on hers that was placed on the end of her dress. Her eyes finally meet with his and she feels her breath slightly catch in her throat. His eyes are piercing, his gaze intense, maybe even a tinge of anger. “Y/N, I would never have come to your room if I even had an inkling that this would be how you’d interpret it . Even though I was drunk, I wanted to see you, that’s why I came up here, because I wanted to be with my friend, one of my best friends, not because I just needed some pushover to care for me.”

She sighs, feeling icky still about the whole situation. She sometimes found herself in fights that she never intended, she wished she hadn’t said anything at all. But she also knew that wasn’t healthy either. Flipping her hand, she intertwines her fingers with Harry’s and smiles for the first time that morning. His expression softens at it. “Look, I’m sorry too, H. It honestly wasn’t that big of a deal, but I appreciate that you’re such a great guy and boss to want to truly apologize and make sure I’m comfortable and happy… Oh, and I promise I’ll never call you anything but H from here on out - unless you tell me otherwise.”

He cackles unabashedly at her words, before suddenly clutching at his temple with his free hand. “Fuckin’ hangover,” he mumbles. She smiles and stands up, beginning to throw his shirt and shoes from the end of the bed at him, “You need to get ready. Go pop some advil or whatever. My flights at 5 so we haven’t got all day, H.”

“There she is,” Harry grins, beginning to put back on the stained ‘Sex’ shirt.

As he hustles out of the room, shoes in hand, she calls to him one last request, “When you’re in fresh clothes make sure you bring me that stained shirt. Gonna have to spot clean it when I’m back in London!”

“Of course! And we’ll debrief as we shop, yeah?”

“Yes!”

The two of them were shouting to each other as the door continued to close on them. Chuckling to herself, she begins to pack up her room, knowing she had to check out before they left. Her spirits already lifted, she doesn’t even notice as she throws Harry’s forgotten Bode jacket into her suitcase with some other items that had been on her chair. She wouldn’t notice it until she was back in London unpacking from the trip.

Shutting the case, she springs back up from her crouched position and walks to look in the full length mirror again. Her fingers run the length of her dress, leafing over the slightly darker brown embroidered flowers that were woven into the tan fabric. She squints as she turns sideways and pops a heel up behind her. It looks good, but something is missing. Rummaging through her carry-on she pulls out her old butterfly bandana she used as a head scarf and begins to fix it into place on her head. Placing large sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, she feels like the look is complete and gives herself some poses in the mirror; a peace sign, an air kiss, a Marilyn Monroe. She laughs at herself.

A knock on the door shakes her from her childish fun. Straightening up, Y/N saunters over to the door, swinging it open with ease. “H?”

“You ready?” Harry stands in a fresh pair of Marni trousers paired with a striped orange and mauve Marni sweater. He, like Y/N, had this thing about wearing the brand you planned to shop at. He didn’t always stick to his rule, but he usually didn’t like to wear Gucci when he shopped at Gucci.

“Yeah, just need to check out and drop my baggage at the front to be held for later.” Y/N slips through the door and notes how his outfit compliments hers. She wouldn’t mention it, but it's something to think about since he had known what she was wearing. She wasn’t sure why she noticed things like that, if asked, her answer would probably be that it was the stylist in her, just her job.

-

Stepping out of a black town car on the side street next to Gucci to go in the side entrance would never get old for Y/N. She had never really enjoyed the idea of fame, but from a young age she had known she wanted to be able to afford the finer things in life. Going into the Gucci store now, especially with Harry, was like going to the candy store once you’re a grown up and can buy whatever you want rather than what your parents will allow you to.

Today, Harry and Y/N didn’t have as much time as they would usually like to spend in the store, but they were just happy to be doing what they loved. Y/N had been ecstatic to find out Harry found shopping to be an essential part of his life and that he liked to do his outfit shopping in person rather than online. Trying on clothes and picking out things you liked just was so much more fulfilling when you were in the physical store. Then make that all happen with Harry Styles as the buyer, then it was a real party. The stores liked to pull out their Champagne and clear the store to allow him privacy, specifically when it was for clothes for projects under wraps. In the beginning of her employment, it was only ever Harry who would do the trying on of clothes, but as the two of them got acquainted and comfortable with each other, she found herself trying things Harry would pick out for her. At first, she would veto some items saying they were too expensive for her, but eventually she learned that her new salary covered whatever it was. She had always enjoyed designer labels and choosing to be a stylist meant she had nice clothes, but only working for Harry had caused her closet to double in size and triple in value.

“So we are looking for some trousers today,” she tells the worker at the store, reminding them of what she had already called ahead about. The employee nods and proceeds to lead them into the room where they had laid out an assortment of pants for Harry to pick from.

“What do you think of these?” Harry walks out and strikes a pose, popping one of his hips to the side and his hands on his hips. The pants strain around his thighs, but fit practically perfectly everywhere else. His slim waist is perfectly encircled by the fabric and he’s decided the sweater he was wearing didn’t match them and he’d rather go shirtless. This choice technically should allow her to solely focus on the pants, but it actually makes her focus that much more diverted. She makes a spinning motion with her pointer finger as she purses her lips. He takes a quick spin and the boot cut slightly flares with his movement. The pants are a dark brown with a single plaid crossing in a lighter brown. They are only lightly flared, which she prefered to the extreme flare that some of Harry’s suits had. She narrows her eyes at the pants to keep her gaze from shifting to the taut muscles of Harry’s arms and torso or the dark ink that licked over his skin in the beautiful designs of his choice.

“They’re nice,” she pulls up a picture of the top part of the outfit he was planning on wearing, “Do you think they match with this though?” Harry walks over to her seated position and bends to look at her phone. His skin radiates heat and the smell of his cologne and she sniffles slightly with her sensitive nose. His eyes flicker to her face when he notices her little noise, but returns to looking at the phone when she doesn’t spare him a glance. She felt his gaze on her, but couldn’t bring herself to look from the phone. She knew his proximity would make it even harder for her to keep her eyes off his naked torso. The expensive smell of Harry mixed with the expensive smell of the store was a lot to handle.

“Yeah...no. You think they’re not right,” she widens her eyes at Harry’s words when he pulls away. He turns to the mirror in the open dressing room and fiddles with the waistline of the pants. “I agree,” he finishes before stalking back into the room and shutting the heavy velvet curtain that worked as the door to it.

He tries on five more pairs of trousers and finally settles on two pairs for the two different listening parties. A heavier, wool-tweed pair that was dark brown and then a lighter brown tweed pair. He was still in the lighter pants as he stared into the mirror. He beckoned to Y/N, and she quickly set down the flute of Champagne she had been sipping at lazily as he admired himself.

“Is it possible for you to take it in a bit more,” he says in a hushed tone to her, not wanting the workers to overhear. They were helpful but if they overheard they would wait for the store to tailor the trousers and he preferred for Y/N to do it. He rubs at the waistline again and she moves closer, her hands going to his sides. Her fingertips graze the naked skin above the trousers and Harry shivers at the coldness of the new touch. She ghosts softly over the waistline herself and smooths the fabric until she’s pinching a small amount on each side. She hums, pulling back from Harry and looking at the fit of them now, examining whether that makes them look better.

Then she nods and smiles up at Harry, “Ever the slender waist,” he grins right back as she admires him. She knew how much he liked praise and she was happy to give it to him, especially when he was so deserving. “I’d say size down, but then your thighs and bum might strain the fabric too much.” His face turns to a smirk as she blushes at her words. She releases the fabric and takes a hand to pat Harry’s smooth chest before walking back to her seat on the lovely couch.

“You sure you don’t want to try anything on, Y/N? Saw some killer boots when we walked in that screamed you.” Harry calls from behind the curtain, presumably getting redressed. Her laugh comes through the curtain slightly muffled, yet still a sweet melody in Harry’s ears.

“Definitely not now, we’re leaving any minute. Plus, I’ve got plenty of Gucci boots, don’t even show me them or I’ll be tempted.”

His laughter rings through the curtains, loud and unrestrained. She smiles to herself, unable to discourage the pleasure that weaves through her at the sound. His presence in all the different ways she experienced it was instantly comforting.

-

When she arrives back to her London flat, she practically flops on her couch once she’s inside the door. Her luggage forgotten at the door, as she shrugs off her coat. It was around 7 am because she had chosen to take the red eye for some reason. She groaned as she thought about the day ahead of her. Even though Harry was halfway across the globe, she still had plenty of work to do. She had to finalize the outfits for the listening parties now that they had the pants to complete the looks. Then she had to start thinking about Harry’s December appearances. She had sent ahead his Late Late outfits that he had needed in Los Angeles for the pre-filming, but she still had to deal with the outfits for the live part of the show.

Today, she was set to go pick up the other pieces needed for the listening parties as well as items for the Graham Norton Show and Jingle Ball. She was most excited for her travels because that meant looking at brand new clothes that were perfect and gorgeous. She also knew she needed to spot clean Harry’s shirt, which didn’t spark as much joy in her tired mind.

The idea of the shirt staining with alcohol was what brought her out of her snuggling with her comfy couch. Sure, it couldn’t get that bad, but still she was a worrier and it would pain her if the iconic shirt got ruined. She padded back over to her luggage, now without her jacket or shoes. Her major suitcase got flipped on its side and she began to unzip it. It came open easily seeing as it was stuffed with her clothes and various items. She had to rummage a minute for Harry’s shirt that seemed to have run away inside the bag. Finally, the large white shirt made itself known and she grasped it happily.

As she looked over the stain near the collar of the shirt, her eyes traveled to a piece of fabric peeking out of her suitcase. It was a familiar blue, cream and white. A specific fabric she would never misplace, would never not recognize. Harry’s plaid Bode jacket. It was iconic and she loved it, but why did she have it in her suitcase. She definitely didn’t mean to have it, it’s genuinely just one of Harry’s jackets so it wouldn’t make sense for her to bring it back with the show's wardrobe. She tries to think back to yesterday, when she was still in New York. Thinking about why she would have it, she places the memories of Harry coming to her room, taking off his coat, and accidentally leaving it in her room all fit together. She must have just absentmindedly placed it in her suitcase without even realizing. She’s sure Harry wouldn’t mind, she’d shoot him a text, though, to tell him she had it. So he wouldn’t worry about whether he’d lost it or not.

When she gets ready for the day, she finds herself being drawn to blue and cream. Her outfit is understated and she just knows the jacket would finish the look. She loved that jacket and now that she had it, would it be a big deal if she wore it out. She figured it was fine. After she grabbed her purse, keys, and other essentials, she slipped on the coat. Harry was very broad shouldered and it hung oversized on her. She loved the look and snapped a selfie in the mirror before she headed out. While it felt a little narcissistic to constantly take photos of herself, she felt like as a stylist it was important to document her looks just as much as she documented her clients.

What she didn’t think about is just how much the rest of the world liked to document her client and those who were seen with her client. She didn’t think about how she had just been seen with Harry yesterday. That thought didn’t even cross her mind as she walked around the streets of London picking up her work. As she saw some photographers out and about (whom she assumed were for famous celebrities, not her). How it might seem with her wearing the Bode jacket Harry had worn on SNL two nights ago. The Bode jacket that there were only two of.

None of it crossed her mind. Not until it was the end of the day and she had a whole slew of texts from Harry’s manager. A few from Harry, and others but the other fifteen were solely from Jeff. She was a bad texter so as she walked into her flat and finally looked at her phone after putting down all of her garment bags her eyes went wide.

Please tell me you’re not out in London right now!

What are you wearing??

That cannot be Harry’s jacket Y/N

Seriously?

Please call me.

CALL ME. NOW.

      - All from Jeff.

She grimaced. The others from her friends including Harry would have to be ignored right now. Even if Harry was her boss, Jeff was who she had to deal with when it came to public appearances and it didn’t seem like she could get around this one. Normally, she never had to deal with him, but it seems today wasn’t normal.

- 

part 2

[dysfunctionalcrab]

cute vets, pets, and boys

Pairing: Quackity x reader

Pronouns: Gender neutral

Description: Tiger needs to go to vets. Over there, his owner meets a cute veterinary assistant (yes, I mean you)

Notes: Doctor Anderson is the name of an actual doctor I shadowed I couldn’t think of anything else okay, leave me alone.

His knee bounced up and down impatiently. The place was unusually packed today.

Tiger sat in his basket, loafed and with his eyes closed. Quackity’s heart ached for the small cat, the poor animal had stopped his regular eating habits. When he filled his bowl, it was only half finished, which was abnormal, since Tiger was usually finished within 10 minutes, and then meowed for some more.

He glanced at the clock, sighing after calculating that he had been been waiting for almost a whole hour, until a vaguely familiar man walked into the room with a clipboard. He was a middle aged man, grey hair and and stubble. He wore giant glasses with black frames. It was only when Quackity’s eyes landed on the name tag pinned to the pocket of his white lab coat, did he realise this was their regular vet.

“Alex!” He called out, looking up from his clipboard and locking eyes with him

Tiger hadn’t been to vet in ages, and when he did, it was usually his mom who took him, so to see him so enthusiastic, or even remember his name, startled him quite a bit.

He stood up, clutching the handle of the cat basket and lifting it off the floor.

“Doctor Anderson?” He tried to play it off as if he wasn’t reading his badge to remember his name.

“How have you been?” The doctor asked him.

“I’ve been good, busy, but good,”

“How are you? How is your mom?”

Quackity tried to be polite, answering all the questions he had. But in reality, he didn’t care about catching up with his vet, especially after waiting an hour of waiting just to even be spoken to while his cat sat miserably in his basket. It had entirely ruined his mood. He just wanted to know what was wrong with his cat.

He was relieved when Doctor Anderson finally ushered him into the room.

The doctor walked in with another man, he looked young. This man was going to be the final patient you assist before finally finishing the veterinary experience course. You took a deep breath and approached them both.

The doctor walked in with another man, he looked young. This man was going to be the final patient you assist before finally finishing the veterinary experience course. You took a deep breath and approached them both.

The doctor walked in with another man, he looked young. This man was going to be the final patient you assist before finally finishing the veterinary experience course. You took a deep breath and approached them both.

The other guy looked you, not in a weird way, but just to curious to who you were. You offered him a kind smile, and when you started to think wasnt going to, he returned it. Doctor Anderson watched the interaction from across the room.

“This is [Y/N],” he introduced, putting a gentle hand behind your back. “They’ve been shadowing me for the last 2 months, today is their final day,”

Quackity nodded, glancing towards you again, but less soft. Your smile dropped. You started to assume he wasn’t in a good mood today, especially since he probably had a sick animal with you. So, you resorted to standing in the corner of the room, just to observe.

“So then, how can I help you?” The doctor asked him

“I don’t know,” You watched him as he distressedly pushed his hair away, alongside fiddling and adjusting his beanie anxiously. “Tiger just hasn’t been eating lately and it’s been worrying me,”

Doctor Anderson opened up the basket and took out a small tabby cat who you now knew was named ‘Tiger’. Your heart awed at the cat, you loved cats. I mean, you loved animals in general, which was the reason you wanted to help them.

You watched as he started to check the cat, feeling his fur and his body for any irregularities. His face was fully focused, eyebrows furrowing. You could tell the owner was nervous since he was rubbing the seam of his shirt aggressively between his finger and thumb.

“Has Tiger ever-“

The door suddenly swung open with a loud creak. All your heads snapped towards the entrance, another doctor stood there, her face a little sweaty and she was huffing, completely out of breath

“Doctor- we need you please, it’s urgent,” She stated.

The doctor looked at you, and then looked at the cat, and then looked back at you. You felt yourself freeze in fear. You knew what he was asking, and you frantically shook your head, pleading with your eyes that he didn’t leave you alone.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered, before taking off and dashing out the room,‘following the tinder woman. He accidentally slammed the door a little hard that the noise startled Tiger. He let out a small and scared meow.

You pursed your lips, looking down sympathetically at the cat. You then looked at his owner, he was giving you a blank, expressionless stare, his brown eyes told you he was a mixture of tired, irritated but concerned. You wondered how long he’d been waiting.

Quackity was nervous around pretty people, he was far from confident. After the way you smiled at him, he felt himself heat up. He’d be lying he if he said he didn’t find you cute.

If you weren’t in such a formal environment, he’d be initiating some sort of casual conversation with you to start things going, if he even knew how to. But now, especially since he had a sick cat with him, wasn’t the ideal situation. Your voice interrupted his train of thoughts.

“So,” you gnawed at your lip nervously. “He’s lost his appetite?

Quackity nodded slowly.

You hummed, observing her on the table. He was a cute little cat, his eyes were glossy and wide. You felt a pain in your chest at the poor thing. You had never been left alone with a patient before, so you were anxious to say the least.

“Has this ever happened before?” You asked

He shook his head. “Uh- no. No it hasn’t.”

You stroked her, he immediately nuzzled into your palm. You and him both locked eyes at the adorable moment.

“He’s cute,” You stated.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “He is.”

He picked up a mental note of your interaction with him. It was uncommon that Tiger relaxed at someone’s touch so easily, usually he would do that at-least within a week of knowing or playing with them. He was also quite aggressive, living up to his name.

“You don’t need to worry, you know, I’m sure he’s fine, the worst it could be is like- kidney disease or something,”

His eyes widened

“Not that it is!” You took back, wishing you could swallow your words back up again. “I didn’t mean it like that, I was just saying that he could-“

He raised an eyebrow at you, this time out of confusion of your rambling.

“I’ll stop talking now.” You muttered to yourself

You felt ridiculous, being so nervous. You couldn’t tell if it was from the pressure, or the fact he had a strong gaze on you.

“I’m going to check his teeth, if that’s okay?” You asked

Quackity stepped back abit from the table. “Yeah, yeah, of course, do whatever you need,”

You patted her head before positioning her so you could look at her mouth. You gently held her head and used your fingers carefully to pull her jaw open. It all looked pretty normal, until your eye fixated on one of her canines that were looking black at the root.

You sighed, observing it a little longer. You smiled, thankful that you found the problem. It was funny to you how this guy hadn’t even thought to check her mouth before-hand.

“Well, we’ve found the problem,” you said. Quackity stepped closer and watched to where you finger was pointing. “Just a bad tooth, it most likely hurts when he eats,”

You smiled at him reassuringly and he relaxed. His Tiger was going to be just fine

“So now what?” Quackity asked you, petting Tiger. He quietly purred

You ran your tongue at the seam of your lips. “I don’t know, I guess. I don’t think if it’s legally permissible for me to diagnose anything or 8 anything- I think,” you spoke awkwardly. “It’s better to just wait for the doctor to come back,”

He nodded again. The silence in the room was making it a little uncomfortable for the both of you, the only thing making it less... weird, was the cute little cat laying on the table.

“So, how long have you been shadowing him again?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, he was clearly just trying to make conversation with you to diffuse the awkwardness.

“For two months,” you answered. “Today is actually my last day.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, kind of disappointed actually, this experience has been quite nice. Now it’s back to textbooks and PowerPoint presentations, it’s like being stuck back in high school”

“I get that. Law school is just case after case and it can get boring sometimes,”

“Law school? Holy crap,” you said, before throwing a hand over your mouth, remembering he was still just a patient. “Sorry, excuse the language,”

He giggled nervously. “Don’t worry about about it,”

Conversation with him from then on was easy. It flowed quite smoothly, from talking about about school to other general things.

He liked the way you listened, Quackity knew that he waffled on about certain subjects a whole lot. But you seemed to actually be interested, your face lighting up every time. You found it sweet the way he talked so passionately about things, for a stranger, you were pretty intrigued.

You enjoyed his company for the next 30 minutes, still waiting for Doctor Anderson to come back after rushing out of the door. To be fair, It was nice to have conversation during the day that wasn’t with a fifty five year old man for once.

“But we have restaurants here like Chipotle, or Taco bell!” You exclaimed, now sitting beside him on one of the blue chairs.

“They’ve never been as good as the ones I’ve had in Mexico,” he told you.

“Well then I guess-“

Again. The noisy door swung open. Both your heads simultaneously turning towards it. The doctor walked back into the room, his hair was a little ruffled and messy. He came in as if he was looking for a certain something, and then his eyes landed on you.

“[Y/N]? What are you still doing here?” He questioned, looking at his watch. “It’s past four o’clock,”

You took out your phone from your back pocket. Damn, time really flew by and you didn’t even realise.

“We were just talking about Tiger, he’s got a bad tooth,” you said

The doctor smiled at you. “Good work, [Y/N]!” He said, pride overtaking his voice. “But it’s really time for you to go home. You can pack up your things now and relax! You’re finally finished!”

“Oh-,” you said, feeling the slightest bit disappointed as you looked at Quackity. “Thank you,”

You stood up and hesitantly slipped off the spare white lab coat, folding it up and placing it in on a nearby counter.

You looked at Quackity again, his eyes were almost saying ‘sorry’ for you having to leave.

Quackity watched you leave the room. His mood dropping straight away. He knew he wasn’t going to speak to you again after this.

The doctor started talking to him again, giving him advice for Tiger and how they would deal with the problem. However, the unfortunate problem was, his attention was focused on you. You know sometimes you talk to someone once and then for the rest of the year you constantly think about that interaction? Yeah, that’s how he was feeling. He had no idea why you had suddenly invaded all his thoughts.

Too bad you’d left without so much of a goodbye.

If only he built up the courage and asked for your number.

———

Masterlist

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