#I was mostly just thinking about the White feature since his chest hair is dark like the hair on his head haha

[alexanderwales]

My web serial, Worth the Candle, has been adapted into a webcomic. This was thanks to my agent, who I have a great fondness for, since without him I would have to spend time trying to make connections and call people and do a bunch of work that I don't know how to do and am not good at.

I was offered the chance to write the webcomic, but declined, mostly because writing Worth the Candle had taken four years and was pretty draining, and was a story that I feel like I'm done with, minus some editorial stuff, answering fan questions, and the odd bit of promotion. So my level of involvement is that I get the pages as they come in, make some comments on them, and generally just give feedback which they are free to ignore.

So let's talk about some of the adaptational changes! You can read the first three issues on Webtoon here, or the first eight issues if you're willing to pay, and the books start here, but I'll assume that you haven't read either, and there won't be substantial spoilers because I'm talking about stuff from the very beginning. Actually, I guess there will be some spoilers, but later on, and I'll mark them, mostly having to do with some foreshadowing that the webcomic does which I didn't do.

(I licensed the rights to make the webcomic to WebToon and took my money upfront, they didn't ask me to write this post, I have not actually asked the artist/writer why they made these changes, it's just me guessing and commenting, for fun. Edit: My agent has informed me that I'm mistaken, I do get a cut. So apologies for the misinformation, and hooray for me, I guess I signed the contract ages ago and just forgot the details.)

Character Design

Here's how Juniper Smith is described in the books, ch 2:

I won’t belabor my physical description. My friend Greg had once said that I looked like someone had chosen ‘default’ for every option in the character creator, which I’d tried to laugh at but cut kind of deep. I wasn’t handsome, I wasn’t ugly, none of my features were very prominent, my eyes were blue, my hair was brown, average build, average height … After Greg had made his comment at one of our D&D games, my nickname had been ‘default’ for a while, at least until I stopped pretending to find it funny, and even after that my friends would use similar lines to trash talk me, saying that I was “the most generic man alive”, “a white bread with skim milk motherfucker”, or “the human equivalent of vanilla ice cream”. Not that I was any less of an asshole to them.

This is how he looks in the comic:

I would more or less give this full marks.

In terms of other aspects of character design, Juniper is here given a black shirt with a red symbol on it rather than the stock white t-shirt he's wearing in the opening chapters of the first book, probably in the interests of adding in some visual variety. On the page, it's perfectly fine that every person in the first 50k words is wearing basically the same stock outfit. In a visual medium, I do think that you need that pop. I do think it's interesting that Juniper is wearing the same clothes in the classroom as he is on the plane, implying that when he transmigrated his clothes ... came with him? I don't know.

The other major character of the first section is Amaryllis, who is a major character in the entire work. Here's her description in the book:

Standing by a workbench, among various car parts, tools, and cans of unidentified fluids, was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.

I’m not really sure what protocol is here, in terms of prose. I mean, I don’t want to sound like a creep, so maybe I should stay as generic as possible and tell you about her dark red hair pulled back in a braid, the glacial blue of her eyes, how starkly alert she looked as she peered over the parts in front of her, or her grease-smeared clothes. Save for her eyes, I wasn’t really focused on any of that. My mind was consumed by tracing her curves, the shape of her chest in her blood-stained t-shirt, the fullness of her lips and the delicate way she had them parted -- and yeah, it was pretty fucked up that the splatter of blood on her shirt wasn’t worth rating much of a mention. I was consumed with staring at her and thinking how gorgeous she was, until I noticed that she was having a powerful effect on me, at which point different parts of my mind were given over to marveling at the sensation of being so attracted to a girl, and others were still focused on her.

Imagine that someone spent a few years studying your likes and dislikes, running through video of your every private moment, somehow surreptitiously hooking up EKGs to measure your physiological responses without you knowing. Then imagine that they sat down with that data and the best photo manipulation artists in the world and made the absolute perfect picture to cause your heart rate to spike, a jolt to run up your spine, butterflies in your stomach, and a cold sweat on your palms. Then imagine that they did this again, over and over in slight variations, until they had a full 4K 60fps 3D movie to show you. That was what it was like watching her.

And here she is (as she's introduced) in the comic:

Aside from the change in clothes, which in the book are the same white t-shirt and blue jeans that everyone else is wearing, Amaryllis has a scar on her face, of unknown provenance. This was probably added for visual variety, but I do find scars to be very fetching, and in one of the early versions of Worth the Candle she did have one (patterned off a woman with an extremely attractive facial scar I had met, the kind of facial scar that looked like it was applied by a Hollywood makeup artist specifically to give a touch of the exotic and mysterious, except she was a just a Midwestern mom).

And of course Amaryllis was always going to be an adaptational challenge, because the books are told through Juniper's eyes, and she's The Most Beautiful Girl in the World to him, and conventionally attractive to everyone else. Juniper tries to be normal about this. But if you're in the visual medium, you have to show both how Juniper feels and how she actually looks, and attractiveness is just so incredibly personal. My wife and I get in these kinds of discussions a lot, where she'll think someone is good-looking and I'll say "him?" or vice versa.

I think the above panel in particular is a good middle ground, a glamour shot that snaps back to the reality of their first meeting:

(The void gun she's holding there is much different from the one described in the book, not something cobbled together from spare parts and void equipment, but this is another very minor change that I would assume is meant for communicating immediately that this is a lethal weapon, and there's probably not a place for explaining how and from what it was cobbled together, which is also under-explained in the book for reasons of pacing.)

Story

I've read the first nine episodes, and overall, it's hewing very closely. There are a few bits in particular that stand out to me in how they're handled.

Spoilers for later in the series follow, I guess.

These are the opening lines of the webcomic. This is much stronger foreshadowing than I used, and I like it. Part of Juniper's backstory is that he's been deeply depressed and self-destructive, and he's slow to open up about this with other characters or the reader. The "it" that he couldn't go through with is, then, suicide. In the books? This comes very very late. Juniper being depressed after Arthur's death is brought up after the first major arc, halfway through what's now Book 1, and gets more explicit as the books go on, eventually getting to Juniper talking about his attempted suicide with people and grappling with it like ... almost halfway through?

I don't know what the plans for the webcomic are, but my guess is that they're setting up for much, much later on in a way that I didn't. This was always a background element, something that informed Juniper's character, not so much the suicide attempt as the feeling that came after, this understanding that yes, he did want to live, a heady, energizing kind of "I guess I don't have the way out that I thought I did" sort of thing.

So I take it as a good sign that this is the opening line. It points toward them understanding where they're going.

One of the other major adaptational changes is that they signpost Arthur's death with a memorial on his desk:

When I was getting pages, this was one of the first moments where I was like "yes, this is a good change, visual storytelling to replace my walls of text, flows and offers indirect information". I am very happy with the adaptation thus far, and stuff like this is what I love about adaptation in general, the need to grapple with the strengths and weaknesses of the medium.

Content Rating

Worth the Candle gets grim and dark in places. It at least attempts to grapple with serious things. The webcomic is rated Young Adult, and I'm not sure how they're going to handle the later stuff, but I can talk about how they're handling the stuff now, and what I think it means overall.

First, there's a lot less swearing. Worth the Candle in its entirety uses the word "fuck" ~1200 times. Granted, this is over the course of 1.6 million words, so a fuck density of one every 1.3k words, and some of those are in the verb "soulfuck" rather used descriptively, as exclamations, etc. My personal feeling is that this doesn't matter basically at all. I don't think I notice when someone isn't swearing unless they're using corny substitutions or trying to get cute with it.

Second, the violence is toned down in that YA way, where they're still showing much of the same things, just not with the same level of visceral detail. When a Marvel comic has someone thrown into a wall, they're no blood or snapping of bones or mangling of bodies, at least if it's a comic at a certain rating (I have definitely read some edgy 90s comics that do go hard on the violence). I think, overall, that this isn't my preference, which might be obvious from the way that I try to write fight scenes and such. But I'm also sort of inured to this toning down of violence, since it's omnipresent.

Third, there's the sex stuff, and ... well, it hasn't come up in the webcomic yet. I think I laid out my reasoning for why I think sex scenes should be written/included in Why to Write a Sex Scene, but the brief version is that sometimes you're showing how characters relate to each other, what they think of each other, and the sex scene shouldn't always just be something that's skipped over and left to the reader's imagination, because things happen, there are moments of communication, it can and does develop a relationship in the moment rather than after the fact. Plus a little titillation is, in my opinion, usually good.

The great thing about writing webfic is that no one can stop you from just including three solid chapters of hardcore pornography in the middle of your story. I have never done that, but I could is the point, and I would only get complaints from people who have no power over me. That same freedom doesn't exist here, and ... yeah, it makes my heart sink a little bit.

Fourth, there's some of the more mature content stuff, the topics that might not be broached. I don't know how they're handling that, so I reserve judgment, but I think my opinion is probably going to be "well, you do what you have to do", and if my version of the story is superior because there are no brakes, then I can be smugly superior about that.

Conclusion

This is already a fairly long post, and there are a few other things that I could have remarked on, but I think this is all the most interesting stuff.

Alright, just one real quick: Arthur is adaptationally more attractive, though this is also how Juniper sees Arthur and I think by the standards of webcomics, this is actually sort of necessary. Most of the flashback cast is not described until much later on, and by then you kind of know and understand them from the things they've said, if you can keep track of them. Many of the flashbacks are nearly disembodied. But if you're showing Arthur early, then the first impression he's going to make is in his appearance, and that really anchors people.

So overall, I am happy with the adaptation. There are challenges ahead, and I'm thankful that I'm not the one who needs to tackle those challenges.

[sysig]

Almost familiar (Patreon)

[xxlady-lunaxx]

The sun would be rising in an hour. Obanai had been up since it had set, having clambered onto the roof and sat there, bundled up in a hoodie. He’d watched the sky turn from a flickering orange to a deep blue to a pitch near-to black, occasional glimmers of white where the stars were sprinkled about. For the whole time, Obanai had barely moved, resting his chin on his knees and hugging his arms around his legs. He had sat in the mild silence, listening to the scurrying of the nocturnal animals, but now there was sound behind him and he started to turn until he heard a familiar voice, soft but clear in the quiet.

“Jesus, Obanai,” Giyuu muttered, struggling to get onto the roof from the ladder that Obanai had propped up against the roof window. “It’s like 5am, have you been up all night?”

Obanai hummed, amused. “What do you think?”

Giyuu joined him, settling beside him and nudging Obanai gently with his shoulder. “Why do you do this to yourself?”

“I like the night. I can nap during the day,” Obanai said dismissively, shrugging.

“You have a horrible sleeping schedule,” Giyuu said, letting out a breath. “One of these days, I’m gonna tattle on you to Shinazugawa.”

Obanai rolled his eyes. “Anyway, move your legs, it’s cold and I wanna sit on your lap,” he ordered, shifting to a crouch and staring at Giyuu.

“So demanding,” Giyuu laughed, though he complied to the commands, moving so that Obanai could sit facing towards him. Obanai’s legs wrapped around his back and Giyuu held him closer, encasing him in a hug. “Comfy?”

Obanai nodded, resting his head against Giyuu’s chest. “Why’d you wake?” he asked, words muffled.

“Not really sure. Only that when I was half asleep, I realized you weren’t next to me and I went looking for you,” Giyuu said gently, resting his head on Obanai’s and closing his eyes.

“Yeah? How long did it take you to find me?” Obanai asked.

“Two minutes. Mostly because I couldn’t see.” Giyuu shifted, kissing Obanai’s forehead. “Did you sleep at all tonight?”

“No. There might’ve been a lapse where I fell asleep for a beat, but I doubt it,” Obanai said, leaning back. He tapped his lips. “Kiss.”

Giyuu smiled, cupping his face before kissing him gently, taking his time. He pulled away a minute later, pressing his lips to Obanai’s cheek and nose in turn before enveloping him in a hug again. “I love you, did you know that?” he murmured into Obanai’s hair, a content sigh stirring in his words.

“Love you more,” Obanai said lightly, burrowing into the embrace.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Giyuu said, “I think the sun’s going to rise soon. The sky is less dark than it was when I first came here.”

Obanai gave a small nod, apparently too tired to respond anymore. Giyuu suppressed a smile, saying, “Tired?”

“No,” Obanai mumbled, though he didn’t move, resting his head against Giyuu. “‘m not. I’ve done this a lot.”

Giyuu sighed. “Of course. If you’re tired, we can just go back inside, though,” he reminded him.

“‘s too stuffy in there. I wanna stay out,” Obanai said, tilting his head up to peek through his bangs, catching Giyuu’s eye. “I’m not tired,” he insisted.

“Whatever you say,” Giyuu hummed, though he clearly didn’t believe him.

They sat there for a long time without speaking, Giyuu gazing at the sky, watching as the occasional bird flit by until he realized Obanai’s breathing had steadied into sleep. He shifted, moving to be able to glance down at his boyfriend, a smile softening his lips as he saw Obanai’s closed eyes, his features relaxed. Giyuu brushed some hair from his face, pressing another kiss to Obanai’s forehead as the sun began to rise, the colors painting the sky like the subtle pink on their cheeks brushed by the gentle chill of dawn.

“‘night, Obanai,” Giyuu murmured. “I love you so much.”

In the distance, a bird began to chirp in the morning air.

[symbioticsimplicity]

I don’t need to be up this early but this idea won’t leave me.

So, Steddie Battle of the Bands AU featuring punk!Steve.

Corroded Coffin join a battle of the bands competition run out of a little bar just outside Indianapolis, expecting fully to make it all the way. There’s not a lot of musicians in their area and out of all of them, CC have the most milage and the most unique sound. Sure, it’s metal, but in the bigger city that’s not the death sentence it would be back in Hawkins.

For the most part, they’re right. There’s a little pop trio that do okay, a Bob Dylan type with an acoustic and the flattest, most nasal tone Eddie has ever heard, a rock outfit with a drummer who’s clearly on speed and fixing to pull a Spinal Tap, and one very old dude who’s there more for the fun than to actually compete. They’re a shoe-in.

Except there’s a punk band that were running a little late, and manage to take stage literally just as they’re being called. The Demogorgons, they’re called. 

Eddie is pissed the instant he sees them, firstly because he’s been on sight with punks since ‘84 when a flock of the little shits dissed Dio to his fucking face. Second because out of all the things they could have been called, they picked a DND creature??! In Eddie’s house??? Who the fuck did they think they were?!

The longer Eddie watches them play (he can’t leave until they announce who’s moving on from this round, he’s literally a captive audience), the more pissed off he gets because they’re good.

The lead guitarist is a girl with dark, short hair mostly hiding her face, but she’s absolutely slaying their cover of White Wedding, adding more than was originally in the song seemingly on the fly. It’s beautiful, as a guitarist himself he can at least begrudgingly respect her talent.

The bassist is also a girl with short hair who seems like she’s in her own world, totally lost in the music and jamming so hard Eddie can’t really look at her for too long without getting sucked in with her.

The drummer looks like an absolute madman, big buff blonde guy who looks like he’d bite if anyone got too close to him. He’s bare chested, showing off a few tattoos and a couple piercings that make him far more interesting than Eddie cares to admit.

But the singer/ rhythm guitarist, is what is really tripping Eddie up.

He’s prettier than he has any goddamn need to be, and he’s weirdly smiley for a punk. Like being on stage is his happy place, which Eddie can relate to, even if he hates admitting any commonalities between them at all. His voice too, is lovely. It’s not the typical scratchy punk sound, it’s high and airy and from a technical standpoint (only that, Eddie swears) it’s really good. And he seems like he’s not having any trouble playing and singing at the same time, which is shitty as hell because Eddie still does sometimes.

Before their set ends, Eddie has decided he hates them. He hates them, so much.

So much in fact, he goes over to heckle them once they finish.

It goes south almost immediately.

He was right, the drummer is definitely a maniac. It’s like he was waiting for an excuse to fight someone. And given how fast the singer snatches him up after he decks Eddie, this is a frequent thing. The singer and the drummer posture at each other and for a second Eddie thinks they’re about to fight.

But evidently the drummer thinks better of it and stalks off to start helping put their gear up.

The singer apologizes for his bandmate, even though Eddie started the fight, and introduces himself as Steve, the drummer being named Billy. He’s a good kid, Steve tells him, just angry and still learning where to put that anger. He offers to buy Eddie a drink for his trouble, and he’s so floored he ends up accepting.

To Eddie’s surprise, they end up talking, and they end up talking a lot. Steve is easy to talk to, and he listens like what Eddie has to say is important. When he talks, it’s with this sardonic edge to it that reminds Eddie of sour candy. Before he knows it, it’s been like three hours, and it’s time to announce who’s advancing to the next round.

To Eddie’s complete lack of surprise, Corroded Coffin make it through, but so do The Demogorgons. Steve congratulates him, sincerely, and Eddie stutters out the same.

They part ways for the night, but the pretty punk with the prettier smile won’t leave Eddie’s thoughts.

Cue CC telling Eddie to get his head in the game, trying to head off the crush they can spot forming. They know him well enough to know the signs, and they don’t need him pulling a Romeo and Juliet with some punk he met for one night.

Little do they know, The Demogorgons are having a similar chat with their own lead. They’ve worked too hard to have Steve get distracted, or worse, go soft, over some greasy metalhead he’s only talked to like, once. Steve of course promises that he won’t. After all, it’s not like he’s really going to see him much, and Steve isn’t easy, he has to get to know someone to fall for them.

Cut to a week later when one Steve Harrington is dropping Dustin off at his DND thingy, only to see none other than Eddie Munson perched at the head of the table. He’s explaining what their quest is for the night, or something, and he’s so animated, so into it, he doesn’t notice Steve frozen in the doorway.

Steve makes it out before Eddie sees him, but from that moment on it’s like he’s every where Steve goes. They bump into each other constantly, Hawkins is a small town, it’s easy to do. It gets to be such a regular thing that Eddie makes a joke about following Steve, and Steve sings that Rockwell song about being followed and they find themselves laughing together again.

It’s easy, really. Too easy. And before they know it, whenever they bump into each other, they end up talking for a while. It’s just a few minutes, they both reason to themselves, a few minutes is fine.

But a few minutes turns into an hour, turns into a couple hours, turns into a smoke sesh at Eddie’s, turns into a jam sesh at Steve’s, and before they know it, they’re missing each other when the other isn’t around.

Of course it isn’t long before Gareth notices his best friend’s preoccupation, and Robin could clock Steve’s daydreamy look three miles away. They each come clean to their respective long-suffering bestie.

Neither are happy, but they both care more about their friend than some stupid band competition. They know the rest of their bands won’t be happy, and that could be a pain, so rather than being even slightly reasonable, they hatch a plan.

Eddie and Steve are determined to be the punk-metal version of Romeo and Juliet, but that doesn’t mean their story has to be a tragedy. This is a musical, afterall. What better to do than bridge the gap with the power of music.

So the next time Eddie and Steve hang out, they both spend probably fifteen minutes uncomfortably dancing around trying to ask the other to write a song with them.

Steve cracks first, because seeing Eddie uncomfortable is so fucking bizarre it trumps his own nerves and he has to ask what’s going on. Eddie decides to be brave and takes the leap, asks Steve what he’s got to ask, and to his surprise Steve tells him he was going to ask the same thing.

They haven’t really talked about it, the tension between them, but it boils over when Steve tries to explain why he wants to write a song with Eddie. Eddie can’t watch him flounder for a second more, when he knows he could just be kissing him instead.

He takes Steve by the jaw and kisses the soul out of him. If they weren’t sold they were doing the right thing before, the kiss seals the deal.

They spend the night trading kisses and lyrics in equal measure, alternating between strumming strings and heartstrings until they’re both so caught up in creation, in each other, they’re harmonic.

After that, they hit crunch time. The battle of the bands is next week, and learning a whole new song is a pain in the ass for both bands. It’ll be worth it, but Jeff doesn’t know that and Billy doesn’t care.

The boys make time to see each other, but of course, they get caught.

Band practice gets postponed on both sides of the fence. They know they shouldn’t, it’s stupid, but Eddie spent the day getting harassed by a flock of “Concerned Christian Mothers” who were not shy about telling him exactly what they thought about him, and would not get the hell out of his face about it. Steve is a caretaker down to his bones, and doesn’t think twice about going to care for his metalhead.

Nancy however isn’t stupid, and Grant knows damn well Eddie would only postpone practice if something was genuinely wrong. So Nancy follows Steve to see what the hell could be so important to him that he’d call off practice, and Grant goes to bring Eddie a care package.

Nancy isn’t happy about finding the two spooning on Eddie’s couch, but she doesn’t make as much of a fuss about it as Grant does. Grant goes off about sleeping with the enemy and treachery and the metalhead code of honor (which he made up right there on the spot), but the real bucket of cold water is Nancy telling Steve how disappointed she is that he pulled them all into this, made them care about it, only to waste his time chasing after someone instead of putting his heart into the music the way they all had been. She asks him to get serious, then leaves.

Steve excuses himself, ignoring Eddie’s pleas to wait a second, come back, please, let’s talk about this.

They don’t see each other again until the night of the show.

The competition threw them a curveball, however. None of them know until they get there, see the layout of the big warehouse like space, but instead of playing one after the other, the competition is amp versus amp. CC are freaking out a little bit because they’ve never played that way before, and Eddie is picking up an acoustic, why the hell did he even bring an acoustic, what’s going on?? The Demogorgons are equally nervous, this being a first for them too, and Steve is quiet, so quiet, he’s never like this before shows, what’s going on??

Despite everyone’s nerves and fears, the two bands take their places on the two stages, on opposite ends of the room from one another.

Eddie introduces Corroded Coffin with the same flare he usually does, but tells the audience that tonight’s performance is going to be a little different than their usual. He finishes with “This one’s for you, Juliet.”

He starts strumming the acoustic, the song he and Steve had written together filling the space, warm and full and a wild departure from their usual sound. He’d gone over it with the guys, added some polish to it, made it more metal, but he’d asked them to hold off on that until he cued them.

“And hey darling, I hope you’re good tonight. And I know you don’t feel right when I’m leaving-”

The rest of Corroded Coffin have never heard Eddie sing like this, didn’t even know he could. Usually he was all growls and grit and demon noises he’d figured out how to imitate. They had no idea he was even capable of making a song sound so beautiful.

Eddie continues singing his heart out, strumming his guitar, praying that Steve picks up on what he’s doing, joins him at the drop, doesn’t leave him again. He’s nearly convinced himself he’s going to end up singing the whole thing alone, and God how stupid would that be, that when he reaches the switching point, he nearly drops his guitar when Steve’s voice rises up to meet him. A spotlight flicks on, illuminating him as he sings into the microphone, playing his own part of the accompanyment.

“And hey, sweetie, well I need you here to night. And I know you don’t wanna be leaving me here tonight-”

Steve’s voice is the perfect counterbalance to Eddie’s. It’s light where his is heavy, soft where his is gritty. It showcases their duality, while highlighting how good they are together and Eddie would cry if he weren’t on stage.

He takes the next verse as planned, but Steve’s voice stays with him, harmonizing along side him so perfectly it’s as if they’ve been singing together for years rather than about a week.

“You know you can’t give me what I need, and even though you mean so much to me, I can’t wait through everything.”

That’s different, not the line they wrote together. It lands like a gut punch when Eddie looks up and sees Steve’s expression. He’s not smiling. He always smiles on stage.

“Is this really happening?” Eddie sings back without missing a beat, knowing the next verse is his, meaning it might be his only chance. He prays to every muse he’s ever had to lend him the improv skills to land this.

To his suprise, he hears Jeff’s heavy guitar start to build, Grant’s bass swooping in beside it to flank him. When he turns his head to check, they both give him the nod, the one that’s always meant they’re beside him, for better or worse. It gives him to courage to put his soul into the words he’s about to spit.

“I swear I’ll never be happy again, and don’t you dare say we can just be friends, I’m not some boy that you can sway.” 

There’s a half a second pause in the music, just long enough to wreck Eddie’s heartrate. He can see Steve’s face from here, not clearly enough to make out every emotion that flashes across it, but enough to see when it lands on determination.

“We knew it’d happen eventually.” He and Steve sing, or in his case shout, in tandem.

Corroded Coffin fall back in with them, and to Eddie’s utter surprise, The Demogorgons join them. The sound of two bands playing the climax of the song he and Steve had written together hits Eddie so hard he can barely sing past the balloon of emotion swelling in his chest.

The crowd reminds him they’re there, joining in on the chorus of ‘La la las’ going around the room, their voices loud enough to shake the walls. It’s everything Eddie has ever wanted from a crowd, and it’s way too much along with everything else going on right now. Eddie can’t focus on it, not when Steve is staring him down from across the room.

“If you can wait ‘till I get home, then I swear we can make this last.” Eddie belts, Steve’s higher register wrapping around the notes the same way his hands wrap around his mic.

Both bands let the song taper out, leaving just the crowd echoing back the words to them, just Steve and Eddie singing to each other.

Eddie reaches out his hand, as if he could take Steve’s in his despite the distance. Steve once again meets him halfway, extending his own hand as if to bridge the distance.

The lights go down and the crowd is still chanting. It takes longer to settle them down than it does to make the decision to shrug off his guitar and run to his boy. Eddie hesitates only to look over at his bandmates.

They look exhasperated, but fond. Grant rolls his eyes and tells him to go kiss his stupid punk or whatever.

Eddie is off in an instant.

He finds Steve tearing his way over to him, runs straight into him almost the same way he’d run into him the first time they met outside of a venue.

There aren’t words, they don’t need them, already sung them. There’s just Steve and Eddie and how badly they’ve missed each other. The apologies and affirmations can come later, when their mouths aren’t so busy kissing the life from one another.

In the back of his mind, Eddie registers some of the crowd around them wolf whistling, but for once he doesn’t give much of a shit what the crowd thinks of him.

[oh-holy-slut]

Bloodlust

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, explicit language, blood sharing, mentions of death, oral sex

Word Count: 2,6k

Summary: Stefan forced Damon to try his animal diet. Damon hated it, but didn't had a choice... until Reader makes a suggestion. Suddenly things get steamy.

Being with Damon was complicated. Him and Y/N have seen each other a lot in the past weeks. The two of them had a lot of fun; saw a lot of movies. Actually, Y/N was sure Damon secretly hated many of those. However, anytime Y/N suggested another dramatic, romantic cliché movie like "Last Song" - the vampire groaned, put his arm around her shoulder, let her head rest on his chest and endured every single second of the movie of her choice.

Damon even flirted and teased Y/N here and there, but didn't lead to anything more intimate so far.

Today was another of those days. Y/N stuck around at the Salvatore boarding house, brought a few of Damon's favorite groceries and a bunch of movies, of which she thought that they will suit his taste. Even if they were a little to bloody and brutal in her opinion.

"Pick one!", she demanded, holding all three Blu-ray sleeves in front of him. Damon just shrugged, not bothering to even look.

"Don't be a killjoy, Damon Salvatore!" Y/N sighed.

"Tell me what's wrong or pick a movie. You've got no choice. And besides that... Which number of drink is this?" Y/N frowned, pointing at the liquor in her friends hand. Damon usually consumed his beloved bourbon with pleasure.

But the man on the couch didn't seem pleasured at all. His facial features totally hardened and a look in his eyes like he was ready to rip someone's heart out.

You put the disc's back in your handbag, closing the zipper and put the bag on the floor.

"Fine. No movie night today. Who are we going to kill?"

A small smirk appeared on Damon's lips, finally looking towards Y/N.

"Stefan and his hero hair. He made me go vegetarian... well, for a vampire... and I can't get myself to eat one of those chipmunks, bunnies or bambis." He shook himself with disgust.

"And why did he count you in? You clearly aren't excited about the changing... So, why did you agree?"

"He said, he would kill me, which is kinda funny. But-" Damon made a wide gesture "he stole my daylight ring. And he wouldn't give it back until I stop feeding on innocent people - and kill them."

"So, you truly let your younger brother blackmail you like that?! Wow... I don't know how to feel about your dieting or your new path. Or whatever this is supposed to be."

"You don't like me killing people either", Damon maintained, while taking another sip of bourbon.

"Well, I don't", Y/N agreed, took a step forward, stole the glass from the vampires hand and put it on a small table nearby. "But I don't believe in forcing as a method to get people to change their minds. I believe that change for the better must be an intrinsic motivation," she added quickly, giving the vampire an innocent smile.

Damon's lineaments suddenly turned from annoyed to curious. "Any suggestions, little one?" The vampire raised an eyebrow and a little smirk showed up on his lips. On the one hand, Y/N blushed over the nickname, Damon called her.  On the other hand she felt skittish looking forward to making a deal with him. Not only a deal. It's far more than a simple agreement.

It's Y/N, actually giving Damon a part of her. The red elixir of life. She was about to give him total control of her body and she not even for a heartbeat doubt that Damon will use it against her.

"Actually... Yeah. There's something on my mind." Y/N said chewing on your lip. "I could open up a vein for you. I mean, you could feed on me. And since you have my permission, there's nothing for anybody to have objection about."

Damon frowned and gave her an incredulous look. "You would do that for me?" The vampire couldn't believe, he understood correctly. Why would Y/N want to get involved with him feeding on her? What's in it for her? Damon tried hard to connect the dots, but he wasn't able to. It all seemed to make no sense. Y/N wouldn't have an advantage of that. The vampire hesitated, pinning his dangerously blue eyes on the girl in front of him.

"Is it so suspicious of me, that I'm trying to help my closest friend?" It pierced Y/N's heart, realizing, Damon's trust in her was rather fragile. "Never mind", she waved the pain away and forced herself to keep her composure. "I only had a hasty idea; you really don't need to fee-"

Suddenly Damon appeared behind Y/N, using his vampirism. "Shhhh", he whispered softly. "I never said, that I don't want your blood. I'm thinking about if we are going to cross a line? Blood sharing can be very personal..."

"It can be? It is personal already. Believe it or not - I'm not gonna offer my veins to all the vampires of Mystic Falls." Y/N rolled her eyes, her arms folded on her chest to point out the indignation she felt right now.

"Kinda sensitive today, huh?" Damon gently stroke a strand of hair behind her ear, Y/N could hear this smug smirk through his words. It was a true 'Damon thing' to do. "I didn't mean it like that, princess." He sighed; unsure if he should agree or not. Damon didn't want to act selfish towards Y/N. He compelled a lot of girls for the purpose of drinking blood in the past. He literally used them as long as they weren't too annoying - and then he acted like they have never met. Damon Salvatore couldn't imagine this scenario with Y/N. They've been so close, the vampire couldn't stand loosing her. The offer was risky, but it also could bring each other even closer.

Damon tried hard to avoid any serious attraction between Y/N and him, afraid of messing up. Indeed, he found himself thinking, and even dreaming, about Y/N more than he wanted to admit. She was smart and had this special sense of humor, the vampire adored so much. She was the only one, who could make him feel good no matter what. Needless to say she had that glimmer in her eyes, when she did something she truly loved. In these moments she was even more pretty. Y/N was hard to resist.

And maybe now he could have her like nobody else. At least the vampire gave in. He wanted her blood. He wanted her.

Y/N flinched by the feeling of Damon brushing her neck with his lips.  "Oh, Damon", she gasped. "Bite me." Y/N almost begged for the vampire's teeth breaking through her skin. Damon loved the sound of her husky voice. In less than a heartbeat he turned into his vampire shape. "If you insist", he grinned devilishly, ready to place his teeth on to her skin.

Suddenly Y/N made a slight move forward with the intention to interrupt her friend. "Did you change your mind?" Damon was close to switching back to human, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. Mostly a lack of understanding, but also a little of disappointment and even anger. Was Y/N playing games on him? While Damon Salvatore was sorting feelings, Y/N turned around, standing now in front of him.

She was so close, not even a piece of paper would fit between them.

Y/N slightly exhaled breath, her eyes darting between the vampires eyes and lips. It was the first time Y/N saw him like this. The icy blue of his eyes, she loved so much, has turned darker. Purple veins appeared under his eyes; Y/N couldn't help herself. Damon's appearance fully intoxicated every fibre of her being. Her fingertips found their way gently brushing over his dark purple veins. She felt heat and softness, while tracing one of them.  It took her a few seconds to get out of trance, realizing what she had done. "Sorry", she murmured with a voice barely audible. "Don't apologize, little one." Damon tilted his head, his lips curled up in a self-assured grin, exposing a perfectly white vampire fang. "I never saw you like this before, you loo-"

"... look like a monster?"

Y/N shook her head. It was nothing like that. Yes, he did look unfamiliar. And she should be scared under normal conditions. Instead, his look hit her in an unexpected way. He looked hotter as a vampire, if it was even possible. 

Y/N cleared her throat, looking up at Damon. "I feel... attracted to you."

"So nothing's changed", Damon teased, raising his eyebrows. The girl in front of him softly slapped him on his shoulder; which was only possible because the vampire permitted. "You are always so full of yourself." She smirked, feeling more confident being to something, they have had been so many times before. Granted, he was terrifying accurate, but she wouldn't serve her feelings on a silver platter.

"I'm still into it. You can bite me; feed on me. I only needed to see you before..." 

A shockwave of electricity flowed through her body the second Damon took her hand and pulled her close.

"I'll be careful", he promised, nuzzling his head into the nap of her neck. Damon once again placed his lips on her soft skin. 

Suddenly a harsh pain made Y/N feel like in a kind of haze. She flinched and let out a groan at the same time, unintentionally biting her lower lip. 

During Damon embedded his fang deeper and deeper, she started feeling dizzy. Her hands searched for the vampires upper body, finally wrapped around his neck. She needed him to lean on. A narrow trickle of blood flowed down her neck. Let Damon feed on her felt like flames licking up every fiber of her body. 

With every passing second Y/N could feel her control slip away. Her body was now firmly pressed against Damon's, like she would want to merge them into one.

Damon noticed her staggering, wrapped his arms around her waist, supporting her.

Bloodlust already messed up the vampires mind, so he continued feeding on Y/N.

A tempting moan escaped her lips, but she didn't care to cover up. Y/N's heart was racing, her eyes flattering. It was almost as if he was about to push her over the edge, but in a different way. "Mmm, this...this… feels soo weird... and so good...", she whispered under a shallow breath.

As soon as Damon heard her fading voice, he abruptly

quitted drinking from her.

"Fuck!" He rapidly laid her on his lap and checked Y/N's vital signs, to make sure she was okay. Instinctively he bit his wrist, pressed it against Y/N's mouth. He knew his blood would heal her, but it wasn't going fast enough. A few seconds passed through, to him they felt like centuries. Y/N finally blinked and Damon was relieved. He cupped her cheeks, his gaze never leaving hers. "I thought, I'd gone-" Damon cleaned his throat. "I'm so glad, you are doing well", he whispered, while trailing her lips with his fingertips. "So, fuckin' glad..." The vampire exhaled a deep breath. 

"It... You made me feel good. Strange, but good", Y/N appeased and flushed over the memory. "Maybe you got a little carried away, but I don't mind. I wouldn't trade the feeling for anything."

Y/N quickly interrupted herself, before she could reveal too much.

However, Damon used his vampire skills, noticing that Y/N was hiding something from him. "Isn't there anything else you want me to know?", Damon asked without taking his eyes off her. Y/N shifted and flushed even more. "It's unfair. You use your vampirism to get everything out of me."

"Well, if that were the case, I could easily compel you." Damon shrugged and found back to his smugly self. "Tell me, what you are hiding". He said in a seductive voice.

"I wanted to get lost in you."

Her confession sent shivers all over the vampires body. At first he could not decide, how to handle this. "Are you sure that's what you want? I could really hurt you..." Y/N hummed.

In the next split second, Damon pinned Y/N against a wall, smashing his lips on hers, kissing her with all the passion he had to give. The vampire devoured Y/N with a new kind of hunger. He didn't know he could crave someone so much.

"Fuck me, Damon..."

The vampire felt him getting hard, only by hearing those little three words out of her mouth.

"Say it louder. Tell me, what you want me to do."

Y/N pulled him closer, gently biting his earlobe.

"Fuck... me, Damon." It took her a second to focus and forming the words again. After she was near to climax earlier, it wasn't a long way getting to the edge once more. "Make me cum... You almost had me there..."

A deep moan got over the vampires lips, once he understood, what Y/N was trying to tell him.

With the next blink Y/N found herself in Damon's bedroom, lying on his bed.

From now on there weren't many words needed. Damon's hand's found their way under her shirt, cupping her breasts and make her moan over and over again.

He closely listened to the rhythm of her heart, making sure he would be able to delay her climax to the point he needed her to.

"Don't cum yet... I want to taste your little pussy first."

Y/N grabbed the vampires head, running her fingers through his dark hair - pushing him down, since she was unable to form a single word.

As Damon got down, he didn't take his eyes off Y/N.

He used a hand pushing up her skirt and lightly stroking over her panties with his fingertips.

"My girl is so wet", he praised in a low husky voice."-and I barely touched you."

His dirty words in combination with his touch lead to another moan, almost turned into a scream.

Damon pushed the fabric aside, leaving sloppy kisses on the inside of her thighs.

Y/N's eyes fluttered, when his soft lips reached her middle.

Damon's tongue licking around her entrance was driving her nuts.

"...so delicious..." were the only words she was able to catch up. Damon knew, he couldn't thrill her forever, so he got back to her. He spit on his palms, stroking his hand over his crotch. In under a second Y/N finally felt this releasing pressure of his cock. It was like a switch went off in her brain and she braced herself for the hard thrusts that would follow.

Damon dimmed the whining noises Y/N made with a passionate, hungry kiss.

He cheated with his vampirism to give it to her deeper and faster, knocking out all the air of her lungs while Y/N screamed out Damon's name. Her walls clenched around him and made him twitch. It was like her pussy massaged his dick the best way possible.

Every time he hit her harder and rougher he was making sure he hit her spot with every thrust.

Damon gathered speed one last time and pushed her over the edge until she was a moaning whimpering mess.

With her last contraction around his shaft, Damon was cumming inside her.

"You are so tight, little one", he whispered under his breath. "We should make arrangements more often."

Please like or/and reblog if you enjoyed reading or/and want me to write more stories about Damon.

Thanks guys ❤���

[loostssoul]

if you kissed me - Rodrick Heffley | 1.9k

Yeah yeah i know i haven't written since a million years ago. and yeah yeah i know this is my first real fanfiction i posted on tumblr. fair warning, i'm not the best writer, i honestly just do this for fun and i'm totally up to criticism because i do want to make my writing better. if this is literally inaccurate, im sorry its been like 5 years since i've read the books. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this fluff-fest that I created in the span of a few hours.

paring: rodrick x reader genre: fluff. lots of fluff

Credits to the maker of the picture! 15 Days till the Contest | 9:42 PM, Saturday

Plick, plick, plick

My speakers were blasting so loud I almost didn’t hear the sound of pebbles hitting my window.

Plick, plick, plick

I rubbed my eyes and slammed my laptop shut, walking toward my bedroom window. Peering down, I saw a figure a few yards down from my second-story bedroom, looking back up at me. Dark brown, messy hair that stuck up around his face. A red and black flannel, black ripped jeans, and, (of course) a tee-shirt with “Loded Diper” clumsily written on it. A grin spread on his face as he saw my face come into his view, causing me to blush. Rodrick Heffley, Crossland High bad boy, and my boyfriend.

I unlocked the latch to my window and stuck my head out, taking in the cool air and letting the neighbors enjoy the music I was playing (they never did). I looked down.

“Y/N!” He whisper-yelled

“Evening, Heffley.”

“I need to tell you something!”

“What’s so important that you have to scratch my window instead of using the power of modern technology to call me?”

His mouth opened to give me a response, but nothing came out. I smirked, “Come on up.”

I opened the window wider as he climbed the trellis that lined the back of my house. I backed up to my door and locked it. Precautions, my parents liked Rodrick but they definitely wouldn’t approve of him in my room at night. I looked back and I saw him, every feature of him illuminated by the light of my room. His cheeky smile and chocolate brown eyes. He slowly closed the window and walked toward me, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. I still got butterflies whenever he touched me.

“Hey, Spiderman. What did ya climb in here to tell me?” I asked

“I got Loded Diper into a contest.”

My eyes widened, Loded Diper, my boyfriend’s rock band, wasn’t exactly known for being the best. It was mostly known for his mom’s insane dance moves during the Plainview Talent Show. But of course, i'll never say that in front of his face.

“You did?! That’s awesome Rodrick!”

“Yeah! It's a battle of the bands contest, we’re going against two other bands. I really think this is gonna be our big break!” His eyes sparkled in excitement.

His happiness was contagious, he was like a goddamn puppy. I pulled him into my arms. “I’m proud of you Rod.” I muttered and smiled into his collarbone. I felt him inhale the scent of my hair and twirl my locks around his fingers.

“Hey,” he said, breaking the hug. “I’m having practice tomorrow with the band, you wanna come?”

“Sure. I go to every practice anyway, why miss out on this one?” I shrugged.

He chuckled and looked at me. Really looked at me. That’s one of the reasons why I fell for him. It never seemed like it, but he paid attention. We’ve only been dating for 4 months, but he knew me like no one else did, and I knew that in the way he looked at me. I felt his hand cup my face, his thumb rubbing my cheek in small circles. I looked up at him, noticing how tall he was, how close he was. Was I the one who leaned in? Was he the one who leaned in? Did we just do it subconsciously? Did he want this? Was he ready? Was I ready?

The ringing of Rodrick’s phone filled the room. The daze we were trapped in was gone and we separated, our faces red. Rodrick picked up the phone, it was his mom.

“Yeah, mom? Mom...I’m in the middle of something. I’ll do laundry later, ok? Now? C’mon… Alright, fine. Bye.” He hung up. “Sorry, I gotta blast.”

“It’s fine, I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked him as he started toward my window.

He looked back at me and planted a kiss on my forehead, the farthest we’ve ever gone with physical touch as a couple.

“Tomorrow”

~~✰✰✰~~

14 Days till the Contest | 1:22 PM, Saturday afternoon

“Should we take it from the top?”

Practice wasn’t going so well. I could feel the nervousness, the tension. Drums were slightly off beat, the guitarist’s fingers would fly to the wrong places on the fretboard, lyrics would go all over the place. The contest was two weeks away, and Loded Diper was already feeling the anxiousness. I sat on the floor of the garage, on top of a picnic blanket I found. To Rodrick’s dismay, his mom forced him to let Greg watch band practice, as a form of “brother-to-brother bonding time.” Greg sat next to me, mockingly covering his ears.

“Oh thank god, it's done.” Greg said with an immense amount of sarcasm and uncovering his ears.

Rodrick threw a crumpled-up piece of paper at his head, “Shut up.”

“Both of you, be nice.” I laughed. “I think you guys should take a break for a while, maybe shake off the nerves.”

“Good idea Y/N, 20 minute break everyone!” The lead singer said. Everyone spread out, grabbing a piece of pizza ordered earlier and laying down. Greg ran out of the garage, yelling, “I’m free!”

Rodrick stood up and began gulping down a bottle of water. He wore a black tanktop and black ripped jeans, sweat dripping down his forehead. I ran up behind him and wrapped my arms around his torso. He turned and faced me, running his hands through my hair, lost in thought.

“You ok, Rod?” I asked him.

He sighed, “nerves”

I leaned my head on his chest, “You’re gonna do great, you’ve done so many gigs in the past. Think of this as one of those!”

He smiled at me, “You know what would make me feel a lot less nervous?”

“Oh god. What?”

A really common thing Rodrick did was try to bargain a kiss on the lips from me. It's been an ongoing joke, a meaningless bit he did all the time. I’ll do my homework if you kissed me on the lips. I’ll smile in the picture if you kissed me on the lips. It still hasn’t worked.

“I might be less nervous if you kissed me on the lips.” He whispered to me.

I rolled my eyes, “If that’s what it takes then I think you’ll lose the competition.”

He let go of me and laughed, my favorite laugh. “Worth a try.” He shrugged, going off to join his bandmates and the pizza. But as I watched him smile and laugh with his friends, I lost myself. I thought about the previous night. The way we fit into each other, the closeness, the fact that was so close that I could see my reflection in his eyes.

Maybe I should just say yes.

~~✰✰✰~~

The Day of the Contest

For the past 2 weeks, Rodrick has given me the “kiss-bargain” joke 9 times. Every time, I deflected it with sarcastic remarks, and every time I regretted not agreeing.

I sat on the front steps of my porch, waiting for Rodrick to pick me up. I regretted the jean shorts and plain black tee-shirt I had on, as a cold breeze brushed my skin. I pulled my black leather jacket on, which I painted “Loded Diper” on the back in white paint. Then, I heard it. The echo of heavy metal turned to full blast, and… the faint sound of something big getting knocked over. Oh god, they’re here. The white van with “Loded Diper” written in huge words screeched to a halt in front of my house.

The window rolled down, revealing my boyfriend and his excited grin. “Get in.”

~~✰✰✰~~

30 minutes till Loded Diper preforms

It felt surreal to be backstage, and really exciting. Energy was flowing through the room, as all the other bands talked and played. The rest of the band members seemed excited, full of adrenaline. Except for Rodrick, he’s been nervous ever since soundcheck. His leg was bouncing,he twirled his drumsticks around, drumming them on random objects, and his eyes stared into nothing.

“Rodrick, you want me to do your eyeliner?”

“Huh?” He didn’t take his eyes away from the ground, his voice seemed far away.

I lifted a liquid eyeliner pen I had in my pocket, “Eyeliner. I just did mine, we can match!”

He lifted his head and noticed me. I had my eyeliner smudged, just like he always does during a gig. He grinned, “Yeah. Yeah sure.”

I’ve done his eyeliner many times in the past, and I loved doing it because I had to be as close to him as possible. So I hopped onto his lap, pressing myself close to him, trying to comfort him with my warmth.

“Close your eyes.” I ordered.

As I applied his eyeliner, I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. It was heavy, and fast. I’m pretty sure I would still hear it if I wasn’t as close to him as I was, even though the loud music blasting through the theatre.

“Done”

He opened his eyes, and butterflies flooded my stomach. We were close. Very close. Should I do it? Should I lean in?

Rodrick probably sensed my flustered-ness. He smirked, “Cat got your tongue?”

I rolled my eyes, blushing hard. “Shut up.” I said, playfully punching him.

~~✰✰✰~~

“5 Minutes until Loded Diper performs!” A man exclaimed to us.

Rodrick was as nervous as ever. We’ve been standing on the left wing of the stage, watching the other bands play. It felt like a bunch of Loded Diper copy-pastes. A bunch of high schoolers, weird names, very aggressive playing. But they were still pretty good. Rodrick was biting the nails of one of his hands and tapping his other hand on the wall behind him. I looked up at him and held his hand, stopping it from fidgeting. He smiled nervously.

Now or never Y/N…

“Hey, you said that if I kiss you, you won’t be as nervous. Right?”

He looked at me, wide eyed. He seemed to be trying to compute what I said.

I stood on tiptoe and put his face in my hands. It was that night all over again. Every detail of his face, of him was in full view. His eyes, his eyeliner, his scent, his lips. I leaned in.

His lips were soft against mine, but they were tense, flustered. I was terrified, It was the wrong place, the wrong time. Until I felt one hand in my hair, another on my waist, pulling me closer.

How long was the kiss? A few seconds? It felt like minutes, hours. Sparked ignited. Butterflies flew in my stomach. His scent was the only thing I smelled, his warmth was the only thing I felt. The music faded away. Everything faded away. It was just him and I. Until we broke apart, taking in deep breaths of each other. We wanted more, but Loded Diper was playing in a few seconds.

“Hey, Rodrick.”

“Yeah?”

“If you win I’ll kiss you again”

We both knew I would kiss him regardless.

I didn't edit this because editing is for wimps (just kidding be responsible and edit your work)

please like and reblog because it gives me serotonin and i need that

[inlustrissss]

What about a fluff one shot of L falling in love with his friend and work partner... but he has no idea how to declare his love for reader so L decides to ask for misa's help.

Also, can i get a Goth and Gender Neutral reader? 👉👈

you asked, you got it! Although I am just a little bit late, I hope you won't be mad at me for this 🥺💕 I tried my utmost best with keeping it respectfully gender neutral so I hope you like it!!! Love, Inlustris

Monitor

L Lawliet x GN! Reader

warnings: none!

summary: After solving one case after the other, in the most dangerous moment the famous detective known as L finally starts to realize what is most dear to him. Though never being involved with feelings or touchy subjects, L asks an outsider for help. 

My requests are open! Submit here!

Throughout the big room no light shone through the thick curtains which had separated the working place from the window that lead to the outside world. 

As the busy streets in the afternoon spring sun, came to an end, only the tired clicking and ticking could be heard. The static of the TV wired to one of the main bodies of the computers flickered and played over the loud chirping of the long-billed plovers. As the rainy days came to an end, the smell of fresh gras was almost visible, though the headquarters seemed to only know serious work. 

The (H/C) haired only sighed, noticing their long friend and colleague working on a file absentmindedly.  Normally, a person who didn’t know the infamous detective L, they’d always find his behavior questioning, but would never interfere- thinking the male would work that way. Though (Y/N) knew, this wasn’t his 100%, something must be on his mind.

Glancing, almost stalking him for a while, they thought the genius would notice their stares, which he usually does, but for some reason his nail biting only intensified. Having talked to Watari, L’s personal butler, both of them ad agreed on trying to remind the man to stop his habit. Even this genius is human and gets trapped by simple anxious habits.

“Ryuzaki-”, calling him with his alias during working time and while on the open, he tensed up, “Stop your nail biting.”.

Even with their soft tone escaping their rosy but now colored in a beautiful darker shade he seemed to grow more nervous. “Besides, isn’t it time for a break? I’ve noticed the past couple of hours you’re not acting like yourself.”, looking around, the noticed they were alone. “Are you okay?”, they asked in a hushed tone.

Looking around, L noticed the big, round and innocent looking (E/C) orbs,  staring back into his dark irises, worry etched on their face. Their make-up and unique style fitting and contradicting to their profession as always, L rushed his thought that they’d probably make a better model than Misa-Misa.  But it would be a waste to their current investigation and future cases, due to their outstanding performance as his right hand.

Inching closer to L their (E/C) eyes narrowed, squinting ever so slightly. L didn’t make any movement, not a flinch. Their eyes would notice everything, even the slightest squirm. Quickly turning around though, L shrugged “Whatever you are talking about-”, taking a hold of his sugary cup of tea, the male stood up to leave, ”You’re right, it is indeed time for a break.”, opening the door, he left the dazzled one behind: “Monitor each fottage I left please, thanks (Y/N)”

Taking a long sip out of his plain white cup filled with a half of tea and the other half of sugar, L placed down the now empty cup on to a silver tray, that mostly Watari used to transport little sandwiches for each hard working inspector and treats for the detective. Taking some time to think about the events, L let his hands slide into his pockets, though stopped mid way as he had noticed that certain ping sound coming from the elevator.

Looking up, it was the said model: Misa-Misa, with her blond hair swaysing each step she too and the extraordinary Lolita-Goth look he oh so liked on his partner. Meeting her sea blue eyes, her facial expression lit up and her friendly and happy go lucky demeanor showed: “Ryuuakiii!”, waving her hand at him while dragging the letter “i” into an annoying laughing fit, she revealed a fashion magazine in her left.

“Good afternoon, Misa.”, waving back to the blonde, though with less enthusiasm, he asked, “Were you on your way to see (Y/N)?”, mentioning the magazine in Misas hand. “Oh yes!”, holding the magalogue into view, showing proudly the front page which contained the last few shootings the model mentioned the week before her last visit, “I wanted to show them the new copy we’ve been waiting for and--”, L cut her off by raising his hand, “Sorry, you can’t see them right now, it’s still working time, Misa.”

“Aww, seriously? You probably just want them all for yourself!”, pouting, Misa just crosse3d her arms before her chest, but L remained silent, softly repeating her words to himself “All for myself?”. The blonde looked up, a curious gaze meeting the raven haired, “So you do want her all to yourself!”, giggling, the model covered up her red lips with her free hand. “I’m not quite sure what you mean by that, they are a person on their own, I can’t simply restrict and own them.”

“Of course you know what I mean, you’re a genius, you should know!”, sighing, the blonde twirled a lose strand of hair between her middle and pointy finger: “Maybe all of that sugar did get to you..”,mocking the male, L just shrugged, “I don’t think so.”

But this did got him thinking: Does he truly want them all to himself? It indeed has been now quite the long time he was restless while working, not entirely there. His mind wandering off into an imaginative world or worrisome state whenever (Y/N) wouldn’t be around- no, scratch that, it didn’t matter, he quickly noticed.

Wether they’d be there or not, his mind was partly fixated on their well being. Though wasn’t it always like that? They’ve been partners for a really long time, longer than his knowledge of Naomi Misora for sure, and friends too. 

He read a lot of things during his early days, a lot about solving different puzzles and games, but he could never wrap his hand around when they came.

His experimental time with how feelings would work while (Y/N) were partners were over, he saw himself to them as an equal by now, but what if- “Helloo, earth to Ryuzaki!”, waving the magazine in front of the famous detective, Misa huffed, “Man, bet you’re thinking about (Y/N) if it takes you that long to get out of your dreamy thoughts”, gifting him a look of her tongue, she mocked him again, “You should try that brain-work on finding Kira! I wanna go on a date with Light already again, he promised!”, a date?

Maybe a little trip, spending the day with his friend would make the situation a bi8t lighter- finding out about his true thoughts and feelings that hid in his clouded mind. “Can’t believe I’m saying this-”, he murmured, “But: Misa, I might or might not need your help with something.”, he bluntly responded, ignoring her witty comments., “Help? With what?”, again, her airy head. Sighing, L explained another time, “You see, you’re such an emotional person, where I’m more technical.”, shoving his hands into his pockets, in a hunched position he began to walk, motioning her to follow him into a room across the hall, “The past few days I might’ve felt a little bit under the weather and I do have my suspicion, but to be honest, even as a detective, I can’t help but not be able to solve this mystery on my own, Misa.”

Opening the door, he held it open for the young woman to step inside. “What do you mean under the weather? Are you sick?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it sick, when it’s just a feeling, I believe, and not just a condition.”, he stated, scratching his had as he continued to stay while Misa took the opportunity to relax her legs and sit down on to a couch. “Wait, was I maybe right when I said you might have a thing for (Y/N)?”, noticing how L had perked up by hearing their name, Misas sea blue eyes seemed to sparkle a few shades lighter, already rosy cheeks deepening. “Awww~ Ryuzaki, really?”, she cooed at the usually emotionless acting detective. 

Like previously mentioned, he’s also just a human.

“For a long time now, I want to find out about these thoughts that were kept in the back of my head.”, especially now the most dangerous case since Beyond Birthday, everyday might as well be the last day that he would glance at their beautiful eyes, and their wonderful perfume reaching his nose. “I’m just not sure how”

Eyes softening along with her features, Misas excitement toned down and switched with a warm smile, noticing how lost the male was when it came to the most basic human needs, “It’s fairly easy on finding out how you feel about them, Ryuzaki.”

“If it would be that easy, I wonder why I can’t put my finger on it”, lifting his thumb to his mouth he began biting down on his nail, eyes following the trail of the skyline, visible due to the opened window.

Standing up and entrusting her weight back to her feet, Misas smile never wavered, “Why don’t you just ask them out?”

Dark eyes wandering back to the model, he raised a brow: “I work with them every day, I see (Y/N) every day.”

“I don’t mean as a colleague or as a friend, Ryuzaki. I’m sure they’ll say yes regardless and besides, spending a day with (Y/N) will give you surely an idea if not a start of your thesis on how to feel about them!”, looking up at the taller male with a determined look, Misa Amane was more than sure: “And if the firt time won’t be enough, the ask them out again and again and again, until you got your answer.”, making her way to the door, she stepped out. “It’s not too late and not too cold to go yet.”, winking to the male she laughed one last time

 “Take them out-”, she waved, “There is this pretty nice café down the block! I’ll come around another time!”, with that, she had left.

Thinking over the blondes words, she must be right. Besides, some time off shouldn’t hurt, it never does. Slow steps were heard as L Lawliet made his way towards the ain investiation room, where he had left (Y/N) to continue his work, so none of the progress was lost.

Not forgetting any manners, he knocked, signaling that someone would come in and not startle them. “Oh, you’re back.”, their angelic like voice greeted the male. “Yeah, though it’s now you’re turn for a break, it’s time to wrap things up.”

Swallowing his build up lumb which seemed to sit tight above his adams apple, he stood straight, expression not changing: “Would you want to go out with me?”

Turning around swiftly, (H/C) hair danced around their pretty head in the process as their eyes widened and cheeks reddened.

“There is this pretty nice café down the block.”, he said.

Seeing them smile set her at ease, nodding (Y/N) only laughed, “Sure, L. Let’s go.”

Turning off the computers, (Y/N) stood up to join L’s side and walk down the hall towards the elevator. Smiling the whole way towards the Café and while being with him, (Y/N) couldn’t be happier.

Happy that Misa had come with her obnoxiously loud voice, gaining (Y/N)’s attention on the other side of the door and happy that the whole building is bugged.

No, they didn’t neglect their work- (Y/N) did monitor the fottage, though L did not necessarily mention which one. 

Just like spring had brought the most wonderful flowers, a relationship blossoming would soon follow up.

[cartierbin]

could i get 16 with chan and eating you out 🥵🥵

thank you for requesting baby

『 16. “fuck, you like that, don’t you?”.

pairing — chan x reader

genre — smut , movie day cuddling with chan gone wrong

word count — 1.289k 』

smut under the cut !

with overbearing hours and numerous work tasks to fill them it was safe to say that you and chan worked your absolute asses off that week. the both of you were barely home and when you were, it was much too late to do much of anything and it mostly resorted to eating a small dinner and going directly to bed. but it was a rainy weekend finally. you and chan had slept so much on your off day that you thought it was pretty comical how you both woke up at the same time that dreary saturday afternoon.

with the rain beating against every window in your apartment and thunder wavering in the darkened skies, you thought today would be more than a perfect day to finally relax and watch a film. Chan was quite excited about it also and suggested that you two watch a movie that was actually interesting. alas, the both of you settled on a marvel movie and collected blankets and snacks to sit on the couch with. the living room was dark and the size of your shared plasma tv was so inviting, your living room was quite a comfy feel especially on rainy days like this. chan was grateful for being able to spend it with you and it was quite obvious, he hadn’t unwrapped his hands from around your body ever since the movie started. you didn’t mind because he was warm and to be frank, you missed him. his head fell into the crook of your neck before he perched it up instead.

“baby I missed you. I feel like I haven’t saw you at all this week”, he admitted into the space between his face and yours. you take your eyes off the screen and instead play with his crinkly messy hair with a pout of agreement. “aw I missed you too. our work schedules were insane. but it’s alright I’m happy we get to spend time together finally”. you smiled lightly and chan did the exact same, leaning in for a small peck on your lips. once you both pulled away chan felt a tinge of disappointment at the lost. The delicacy of your lips made him realize that not only has he not been seeing you as often as he’d like but he realized he wasn’t touching you either. his eyes fall over your features, your neck was vacant. he remembered on your normal weeks he left with at least a couple of hickies from the day before. but this week your skin was free of evidence from his ministrations and he wholeheartedly felt guilty.

he pulls you closer and you think it was just a loving gesture. which it was, only chan wanted to make sure your body was in reach. he starts off latching his lips to the skin of your cheek while cupping the other with one hand, brushing his tongue along the underside of your neck. you threw your hand on Chan’s thigh with a small sigh of delight and shock. you could feel his teeth grazing ever so slightly over the tender flesh of your neck, gifting you a sanctuary of hickies and marks that you knew you’d never be able to cover. your heart sank when the both of you exchanged heated gazes for a swift moment — the moment right before he slipped his hands underneath your shirt and toyed with your nipples while sticking his tongue in your mouth. you approved it’s entrance and started sucking on it a little, a move that chan was quite fond of. his tiny groans of need were the cause behind the moisture and heat in between your legs.

he cups his hand over your clothed pussy and massages it while his lips overlapped yours, entrapping you in a sequence of saliva filled kisses that left you thoughtless for a while. he could feel you subtly grinding into the palm of his hand in need of more friction for your aching bud. “oh my god I’ve been such a bad boyfriend to you— your pussy hasn’t been devoured in days”. he spoke in a hushed tone between kisses. you whine a little at the thought, chan spoiled you with many things and frequent oral sex was one of them. it was a shame really, how long it’s been since you felt his lips on your pussy.

he wasted no time lying your body down on the couch and wrestling your pants and panties off tossing them across the room. you breathed and spread your legs wide so he could see how puffy and wet it was just for him. just for his mouth. just for his tongue. he grips the creases of your thighs and pulls you downward closer to his face. he lowers himself hovering over it just enough to gather saliva between his cheeks and spit a thick line of it over your sopping wet folds. he lowered himself yet again to clean up his mess, eyes giving a death glare to the chubby clit that was peaking up from your spongy hood. your back arches off the couch a bit at the immediate feeling of Chan’s soft lips against your most sensitive parts and the way his nose nuzzled against your pubic mound. no matter how much he ate you his mouth could never get old.

you worked your hands through his hair with the movie not even having a place in your mind anymore. Chan’s thick lips were framed deliciously against your folds, lapping up his mess made even more of a mess as gushes of slick extenuated from your hole. chan made it his mission to taste every crease, nook and cranny he could get to. your pussy was his playground and he never got tired of playing. he flat tongues the whole glistening organ, a pretty mixture of his saliva and your own juices leaking to your inner thighs. you wiggle your hips a bit and whine, throwing a hand back to grip the arm of the couch behind you. “fuck channie”. but chan never talked much during this, it was his art after all. instead he lets his tongue do the talking, sucking on the bundle of nerves just beneath your hood. chan could die like this. small satisfied groans bubble from his throat while he devours the throbbing little organ ahead of him. god chan wanted to die just like this.

the room was practically sweltering in the moment and the moist folds of your pussy was so raw and hot against Chan’s mouth. your breathy whimpers hitched their way out into the surrounding air and you rut your hips against his mouth unable to get enough. chan parts the petal lips with his hand, revealing the inner parts that begged for his attention also. upon sight he spits yet again and dug his tongue into your hole, everything sticky and adequately warm. you squirmed above him with your chest heaving in absolute bewilderment, he always devoured you as if you were the last meal he’d ever have. “channie! fuck—fuck I’m going to cum in your mouth”. your cries stroke his ego and it’s just what he needed to delve his tongue deeper into you without a care in the world for how much you could take. the finger shaped bruises he was making in your skin due to his strong grip had began to hurt, and the slurping noises overpowered the sounds from the television, unbearably obscene. the way you cried above him made him impossibly hard but he refused to touch himself during this. he loved making this moment strictly for you and his own enjoyment. you sob, vaguely recognizing the tears that were cascading down your cheeks. the pleasure overwhelming you and making you see white, an orgasm settles deep in your belly and the need to cum surpassed anything else. your pussy contracted as he continuously tongue fucked you, he was going to make you cream all over his tongue as if his life depended on it.

“fuck, you like that don’t you? you’re so fucking cute when you shake on my face like this”.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

calculated ii, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You pride yourself in being cool, calm, and collected... and then Jeon Jungkook knocks you down a peg. Well, you’re still the head Calculus I TA. The noona. The responsible one. The one who would definitely not misunderstand a situation and then end up fucking in a stairwell... right?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex, nipple play, tit slapping, fingering, wall fucking, dirty talk); jealousy; fluff; non-idol!AU - university!AU; dom!Jungkook x sub!noona!reader, ft instigator Jimin again, lol

--

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

-

You weren't a jealous person by nature. 

Mostly because you had no tolerance for lying, dishonesty, or deceit. In the off chance an ex cheated on you, you dropped them like hot coal and moved on, easily, without so much as a text. Was that the best way to end a relationship? Definitely not, but you did it anyway. 

It got you a notorious reputation, to say the least. 

So, why, as you're collecting the latest Calculus I exam and students are rushing down the steps to run to their next class, were you absolutely fuming as you spy Jeon Jungkook, tongue between his teeth, talking to a girl who looked like she was going to pass out from arousal by being in his vicinity? Why was your blood boiling, knuckles turning white as you clutch the obscenely thick stack of paper, your only thought being, I'm going to fail this fucking punk ass bitch, just you fucking wait–

"Do you need help?"

You turned your head sharply, missing Jungkook's teasing gaze as Kim Namjoon held his hands out, giving you a sheepish smile. Namjoon was the head Calculus III TA, but he was helping out today since the other Calculus I TAs couldn't make it. 

"No."

Namjoon's smile faltered. 

"Last time I let you carry these, you dropped them all."

Namjoon laughed sheepishly. "Ahahaha, yeah that did happen, huh?"

You felt bad for snapping at him. It wasn't Namjoon's fault Jungkook was an asshole. It was not Namjoon's fault Jungkook was looking like a goddamn meal in his untucked black dress shirt, ripped black jeans and heavy black boots, his long dark hair half-pinned back with a wispy curtain of black partly obscuring the right side of his face. Not that you cared. At all. You two fucked one time. One, very hot, very intense, very wild time during Calculus I office hours in this very math department building, a few floors above, just last week.

Did you have dreams about it?

...

You shook your head roughly, breaking out of your thoughts. "Come on. Let's go get some coffee. I'll buy," you said, softening your tone this time, grabbing your bag as you hoisted the stack with one arm. You began to walk out, Namjoon following you with his extra-thick backpack.

"I can help you grade. I have some time before my next class."

You laughed. "You, Kim Namjoon, double Literature and Music major and head TA for Calculus III and Physics II, have time?" you teased, seeing his ears turn red. 

He chuckled awkwardly as you two made your way to the vending machines. "Okay, I don't have the most time, maybe an hour, but there's a key, right? I'd like to help," he added cheerfully. "Since you're carrying it all."

You smiled and stopped in front of the vending machine, struggling to grab your wallet from the back pocket of your black skinny jeans. Your hands kept getting caught in the long sleeves of your cream sweater. You frowned, trying to balance everything. 

"Need help?" Namjoon asked, seeing your brows furrow. He reached for the stack of exams, but you pulled them away from his grasp. 

"No, no, I just can't get my wallet. It's in my back pocket."

"... Uh, I could pa–"

"Namjoon, it's an ass. Just take it out. I won't call the police."

He gave you a hesitant look, but you jerked your head impatiently.

"Fucking do it. You're making it weirder," you muttered.

He shrugged and yanked your black bifold wallet out of your back pocket. 

"Whatchu want?" You looked into the lit-up shelves, scanning. "Get me a green tea."

Namjoon opened your wallet to grab some bills. He raised his eyebrows. 

"I use the same brand myself."

"What?"

You turned your head to see him snickering, pointing to the condom in your wallet. You rolled your eyes at his immature reaction. 

"People get laid; get over it," you remarked coolly, but you were smiling anyway because Namjoon had cute dimples that made you laugh too.

He fed some money into the machine. "You should change it out every once in a while, though. Body heat can cause the latex to break down over time."

"I put it in there last week," you said absentmindedly, watching the green tea and the hot coffee Namjoon ordered plunk down. He raised his eyebrows again, but you gave him a pointed look and turned around, presenting your jean-covered butt.

"Put it back."

"What if I need a condom? Can I have it?" Namjoon sniggered.

"Put it back before I kick your ass," you shot back, turning your head to glare at him. A blur of black rushed past in your peripheral vision. Your eyes flickered to the direction of the movement at the same time Namjoon jammed your wallet in your pocket.

You turned back around, cocking your head into the direction of the offices. Namjoon carried the drinks, laughing behind you. 

"That would have been weird if anyone was around," he remarked to the deserted hallway. 

You shrugged. "Who hangs around the math department besides nerds like you and me?" you muttered, somewhat bitterly.

"Touché."

-

"You said you needed a ride," you muttered, watching Park Jimin stretch his legs out. It was already completely dark outside. Jimin always practiced such long hours that you often wondered if he slept. Did he even know what sleep was? The fine arts building was empty besides you two. 

"I do!" Jimin protested, going into a split that made your own crotch hurt, at least mentally. "But I have to cool down first. It's important!"

You sighed and slid down to the floor as Jimin did his routine. He hummed along as you stared at the bright lights on the ceiling. Your backpack was in the car. You played with the pink bunny keychain on your keys as you waited. 

"How did Jungkook go?" Jimin teased, tone playful.

You scowled in response.

"Ouch, that bad huh?" Jimin's head popped into your vision as he bent over backwards. "Does he have a bent dick or something?"

You rolled your eyes. "He's fine," you mumbled. "Just an asshole."

Jimin sat down, placing the soles of his feet together and pressing on his knees. They went all the way to the floor. You winced as you watched, but he seemed fine. 

"What'd he do?" 

You twisted your mouth to one side. "Doesn't matter. Don't care."

Jimin looked up. He gave you that look mothers give their children when they know they're lying. You relented, grumbling.

"Flirting around right in front of my face."

Jimin blinked at you. "I thought you guys were just fucking?"

You looked away to the mirror of the dance studio. "... We are just fucking. Did, rather."

"Are you jealous?" Jimin gasped in disbelief, scooting over to you gleefully, forgetting about his cool down. "You are!"

"I am not, Jimin. Shut up."

Jimin giggled. "Wow, one fuck and you're in lo–"

You spun around sharply and clapped a hand over his mouth, glaring at him. Jimin's eyes widened at your sudden reaction, blinking at you. You climbed to your knees, towering over him.

"Shut up, Jimin."

"The fuck is going on?"

The clear, silvery voice thundered across the dance studio practice room. You froze, whipping your head around to see Jungkook, in all-black, his pretty features twisted in rage, glaring at you and Jimin on the hardwood floor.

Fight? 

Or flight?

You scrambled to your feet and ran. Straight up bolted, right past Jungkook, not hearing him shout at Jimin, completely forgetting you were supposed to take him home.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Jungkook roared, advancing, shoulders shaking. 

"Nothing," Jimin snapped, getting to his feet. "Just like you, apparently. Look how fucking fast she ran from you!"

Jungkook grabbed Jimin's collar, shaking him forcefully. "The fuck are you talking about?" he growled, nearly spitting in Jimin's face. "She doesn't even like me, you idiot."

"You're the idiot," Jimin spat back, shoving him hard in the chest. "She literally just admitted to liking you right in front of me!"

Jungkook froze. "W-what?"

"She just now told me she was jealous because you were chatting up other girls," Jimin hissed, looking at him disdainfully. "I would have never helped you if you were going to treat her like a piece of meat."

Jungkook's face fell, anger crumbling into sudden comprehension. "I-I didn't..."

He turned away from Jimin, dropping his car keys as he chased after you, steps much faster and lighter than your erratic stumbling though the fine arts building, nearly tripping on the stairs. You were running so fast that you were making yourself winded, chest so tight you couldn't even breathe. 

Jimin sighed and picked up the fallen car keys. 

Jungkook jumped over the stair rail, making you recoil and spin around, running back up the stairs. He took them two at a time, slamming a hand against the wall to cut you off. You turned the other way and he stopped you there too, so you ducked under, trying to run. His strong arms grabbed you by the waist and dragged you back, struggling for dear life, hands clawing at the air. 

"Stop, stop," Jungkook was panting, but you started squirming against him instead, flattening your torso to try to slide out. He forcefully grabbed your shoulders and shoved you into the wall. You hissed in pain, seeing stars from your lack of oxygen and panic. He held you there, wheezing, grip so strong it almost hurt, as if he was afraid you would run away again. 

You felt wetness on your face. You started, touching your cheek. Tears blurred your vision. Jungkook lifted his head, his long black hair tousled and wild from chasing you and, even now, he was handsome. Even now, he made your heart stop. 

And then you realized that he, too, was crying. 

"J-Jimin..." Jungkook gasped. "Asked me to d-drive him home..."

You sobbed, trying to blink your tears away. "M-me too..."

Jungkook chuckled wetly despite the situation. 

"Hah... that bastard..."

You tried to twist away, but Jungkook pushed you into the wall with his chest. 

"D-don't..."

And now you were really crying now, so pathetic, so dumb, so stupid you wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, hide your face and your feelings and pretend they didn't exist. 

"Don't..." 

Jungkook's deep voice vibrated your torso as you furiously wiped your face with the sleeves of your cream sweater, stuffing your eyes with the fluffy material, trying to press them away.

"Don't cry, noona... I can't take it..."

And then he was kissing you, soft kisses on your tears, dripping his own onto your cheeks, and then your lips were on his, so full, so nice, so right, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. Everything way too fucking wet, but it didn't matter because his tongue was against yours and you were sucking on it, shivering, whimpering his name, trying not to be pitiful, but what were you supposed to do when he made you feel this way, like you wanted to die in his arms right now? 

He whispered your name too, so softly, so desperately that you thought it was just a dream, but he had you against the wall, hands sliding up your sweater, onto your skin, so warm, stroking it and pressing his fingers into your waist, so familiar, teeth nipping at your lower lip.

"J-Jungkook..." you choked out. "We're in the middle of the stairway in the fucking f-fine arts building..."

"Don't care," he murmured, unhooking your bra, his dark hair brushing against your face. You gasped as his palms covered your already hard nipples, his moan against your lips. "Have to remind you you're mine."

He kissed your face again, massaging your breasts, resting his cheek against yours, letting you feel his smile. You closed your eyes, trying to even your breathing.

"Hah... I'm so ugly right now," you mumbled, cursing your weakness, frustrated that only a single meeting with Jeon Jungkook could turn you into this. You didn't believe in stars aligning or any of that romantic bullshit. But the instant Jeon Jungkook pressed his body against yours, you fucking knew. You absolutely knew there was no other body for you, no other body you wanted to dream about, no other person you wanted to touch, no one else you wanted but Jeon Jungkook to force you to your knees and make you look at him, pulling on your nipples, whines leaving your throat as he yanked on them, your own hands pushing your sweater and bra up so he could stare at your body and watch how he ruined you, turning your nipples pink with abuse.

Were you crazy? Probably. 

Jungkook spread his legs, leaning down, dark hair half-obscuring his face, lips parting.

"So beautiful, noona..." he breathed, swallowing hard. "You're the only one for me."

You scoffed at his words, hastily wiping your eyes. He pulled at your nipples hard, twisting them and making you yelp in pain. 

"Look at me when I speak to you," Jungkook commanded, raw and deep. Voice strained from crying, but his eyes remained dark, flint-like, shaded by his long hair. His eyes traveled down your body, to your knees against the floor, to your nipples straining in his fingertips, to your shaking hands holding up your sweater, to your face, your icy glare rippling through your drying tears. He drew in a long breath, making you wait for him. 

"There is no one else," he growled firmly above you, staring into your eyes, right at your soul. "Absolutely no one. I don't care if they're ripping off their clothes and throwing themselves at me, I will always pick you over them. I will always want you over them. I will always, always desire you under me above all others."

You chuckled darkly, feeling his grip tighten. 

"We fucked once, Jungkook. Once," you muttered bitterly. He pinched your nipples sharply and you sucked in a breath, wetness pooling in your panties. 

"Once is enough," he replied firmly. "Once is enough to know there is no other human being on Earth for me."

Maybe you were both crazy. 

He yanked your nipples harder this time. Your body jerked in pain, pressing your thighs together to get some relief. 

"Get up."

You got up shakily, with his gentle pulls in your nipples, wincing. Jungkook removed his hands and you sighed in relief, only to be silenced as he pushed up the sleeves of his black dress shirt, breathless as you saw his shapely forearms, the right covered in tattoos. He pressed his right forearm against your collarbone and you released your sweater as he held it up.

"Hands on the arm."

You placed your hands on his forearm, one on his wrist and the other just under his elbow. 

"Look at me."

Your eyes flickered up at him. Part of his hair covered his right eye. The rest of his forehead was exposed, brows furrowed, brown eyes intensely on you. His chiseled jaw clenched, lips so pink and pretty you wanted them on you. Your chest was completely exposed, your red nipples hard and poking out in the cold air. 

Then he slapped your tits with his own palm. 

You gasped sharply, skin stinging, nails digging into his skin. The sound rang in the empty staircase. Your knees shook, panties wetter than before. 

"Who is he?"

You swallowed, blinking rapidly. Your nipples prickled with pain but all you could think about was wanting more. "Who?" you croaked.

He smacked you again, right on the other nipple, and you bit your tongue, head pushing into the wall behind you, hissing. Fuck. He wasn't hitting you very hard, but he had a huge palm, expanding the surface area of the sting.

"The guy who touched your ass without my permission," Jungkook snarled, flicking your nipple hard. 

Your eyelids fluttered, knees buckling. Fuck. So good. You clutched into Jungkook's arm, panting. His arm was like iron, unmoving. 

"Namjoon?" you replied, confused. "H-he was just getting my wallet."

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. Then he raised an eyebrow and his hand, slowly spanking your tits, making sure to hit your swollen, aching nipples each time, getting you wetter and wetter with each slap. 

"He wants to fuck you," Jungkook hissed into your face. 

You were moaning far too loud, rubbing your knees together, your soaked panties bunching up in your jeans as Jungkook continued, his nails gazing your flesh, leaving red marks and pink skin in his wake. 

"B-but I don't want to fuck h-him..." you managed to get out in between your moans.

Jungkook pressed his palm flat against one of your breasts and rubbed hard. Your eyes rolled back in your head, nipple throbbing with pain as he forced it around and around. 

"Really?" he sneered, putting his face close to yours as he released your breast and moved to the other, placing his nail on it, scratching lightly. Your hips bucked and a desperate whimper fell from your lips. "Who do you want to fuck then?"

Your eyes locked with his, his impossibly dark, reigning eyes. 

"Only you."

He pinched your nipple, hard. You wailed, almost falling, but he held you firm. 

"Say my name."

So deep. So in control. 

"Only you, Jungkook."

He dropped his right arm and roughly pinched both your nipples, silencing your scream with a suffocating kiss, his clothed chest ramming into your torso. You groaned into his mouth as the rough fabric of his dress shirt touched your sensitive nipples, whimpering as he removed his hands to hold yours. Held them tight as he shoved his tongue into your mouth, thrusting into it, fucking it as if it was his cock. You took it all, fingers intertwining with his, whole body shivering. 

He pulled your hands up to his chest, breaking apart for a second. 

"Take it off," he panted impatiently. "Need your skin on mine."

You fumbled with the tiny buttons, far too small with how hazy your head was right now. You were rapidly losing your temper, finally just shoving your fingers into the placket and ripping it apart, causing the black buttons to fling everywhere. You pushed the sides of the dress shirt aside, sucking in a breath seeing his toned chest and abs, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him to you, pressing his hot skin against yours, moaning as your abused nipples touched his chest. Jungkook was chuckling, looking at the fallen buttons.

“Are you going to pick those up later?” he asked, amused.

“No,” you snapped.

“Someone will know.”

“You obviously don’t care.”

Jungkook laughed, rumbling and sexy and so very wonderful. “I most certainly do not.”

He let you press your cheek against his collarbones, hands splayed on his back. Tracing his muscles, chest heaving from too many emotions and too much running. You ran your nails down his back. His breathing hitched and he placed a large hand on your head.

“Were you jealous?” he purred, petting your hair. “Because I was talking to that girl after class? Is that why you ran off with that Namjoon guy? To make me jealous too?”

“No,” was your haughty, tight reply.

He hummed. “Really?”

His hand slid down, down your shoulder and to your bare skin. He dug his nails into the small of your back, raking them up. You whimpered, clinging to him tighter. His head dipped low against your ear, voice dropping several octaves.

“Because I was very, very jealous,” Jungkook growled, teeth snapping, every word rousing your lust. “All I could think about all day was how to punish you. My beautiful, slutty noona.”

You sunk your nails into his back, snarling right back.

“It’s your own fault for being so fucking hot that every single person who encounters you has a full-blown orgasm every time they see you, you punk ass bitch.”

You didn’t have to see his face to know he was grinning. “You didn’t. You told me to leave.”

“You didn’t know what was going on in my pants,” you shot back.

“I found out, didn’t I?”

Was it possible to want to choke someone while also wanting to be choked by them? Because that’s how you felt right now, listening to Jeon Jungkook’s stupid, sexy, smug voice in your ear.

“Shut up.”

You felt Jungkook’s body stiffen. Slowly, slowly, he backed up, out of your grasp, his hands leaving your back. You frowned, narrowing your eyes. There was a darkness in his, glaring down at you through his lashes. His lips were slightly parted, no longer smiling. You didn’t waver. His hand came up and took your chin, grip tightening into your cheeks until it was uncomfortable, tipping your head back into the wall. Lips hovering over yours, so close that he could kiss you, but he wasn’t doing it.

“Okay.”

The affirmation made your blood run cold with his unforgiving tone. He placed his lips on yours, but instead of kissing you, he breathed into your mouth, a hot, erotic stream right into the back of your throat, forcing yours back, making you inhale him. You moaned softly, but he retreated just as fast, hooking one arm around you, arching your back forcefully.

“J-Jungkook, what–”

Then he latched his lips onto one of your nipples, flicking it with his tongue, his hand around you rubbing the other as the other gripped the button of your jeans, popping it open. You cried out, hitting your head on the wall, bruising yourself as he yanked the zipper down, shoving his hand under your panties into your tight-jeans. Your nipples for far too sensitive to take more pain and yet Jungkook gave it to you, sucking and rubbing them simultaneously as he shoved one, two fingers into your slopping wet pussy, your moans echoing in the stairway as you stared up, head throbbing. Shocks of pain and pleasure traveled throughout your body, and still he shoved a third finger into you. Your body jerked, trying to spread your legs to accommodate him but your jeans were too tight and he was fucking you too hard, each thrust raising you to your tiptoes. He didn’t even have to stimulate your nipples anymore – they were just rubbing against his teeth and hand by the sheer force of him fingering you.

“A-ah, J-Jungkook, please…” you groaned, grinding into his hand, biting your lower lip hard to try and be a little quieter. “P-please, it’s t-too much...”

His eyes flickered up to you, glaring. You told me to shut up, they said.

“I’m s-sorry…” you panted out, gritting your teeth. “P-please…”

Jungkook detached his mouth, curling his lip. Hand leaving your nipple, tangling into your hair. “Are you really sorry, noona?” he drawled, yanking your head back and exposing your neck. “Are you?”

You whimpered, nodding tightly, his hand still in your hair, forcing you to tug on your own.

“Y-yes, Jungkook,” you breathed, feeling him release your hair. “I’m sorry…”

He smiled at you, an icy smile.

“That’s good.”

You felt him yank your pants down with his free hand, shoving them down to your knees. You almost tripped, but Jungkook grabbed your ass, fingertips digging into you so hard you were sure they would leave marks. He yanked you up, shoving a knee between yours and forcing your legs open. Your eyes went wide, his three fingers flexing inside you. His dark eyes boring into yours, a slow smirk forming on his lips.

“I’m still going to put another finger in you.”

He shoved a fourth into you, forcefully, and now nearly his entire hand was fucking you, pounding you into the wall. Your arms flew up to wrap around his shoulders, desperately holding on as he filled you, pushing his fingers against your walls. You gasped, clenching around his fingers, and Jungkook grinned, watching your face as he pushed you to the edge, feeling so stretched out, so embarrassingly wet that the sounds of your pussy were louder than your noises.

“Fuck, your pussy sounds so sexy,” Jungkook groaned. “Listen to that dirty pussy suck in my fingers, so fucking desperate for my cock.”

You shoved your head against the wall and squeezed your eyes shut, legs straining as you came, muscles spasming and the moan of his name racking through you, your throat already hoarse. He ripped his hand out of you and slapped your clit. Your knees buckled and you whined loudly as he gripped your ass with one wet and one dry hand, spreading it forcefully, pressing you against the wall.

“Take one leg out of your jeans,” Jungkook snarled.

You winced, pussy throbbing, giving him a what-the-fuck look.

“Do it.” He was not going to repeat himself.

You awkwardly kicked one of your sneakers off, untangling your right leg out of your pants. Now you were mostly naked in the fucking stairway with an almost shirtless Jungkook towering over you. Your poor sock fluttered to the floor, lost due to the tight ankle of your skinny jeans.

Jungkook grabbed your calf and pushed it up and out, effectively forcing you to stand on one leg.

“Jungkook, what–”

He hissed, staring at your glistening, puffy, red pussy lips, your hole opening and closing from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck.”

Jungkook leaned you back into the wall, snaking his hand between your legs, moaning with you as he touched your swollen clit. Slow, languid, deliberate, rubbing your clit in circles, melting you, your eyelids fluttering closed at his sudden sweet movements.

“Wanna fuck you just like this,” Jungkook breathed, inhaling your scent. “Just like this, against the wall, in this fucking stairway, your leg around my waist.” He pressed harder, earning a wretched whimper. “Want someone to find us and see you bouncing on my cock, fucked out and screaming my name.”

Your legs trembled, trying to close, but he held them open, teasing you, drawing your next orgasm out of you, slow this time, building you into a frenzy.

“Just do it,” you gasped. “Just fucking do it.”

“I want to,” he hissed back, rubbing faster. “I didn’t bring a fucking condom.”

You chuckled despite yourself, hips shuddering into his hand. “Didn’t think you were going to fuck Jimin or something?”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at you and pinched your clit. Instantly you yelped, your standing knee buckling, but his own slammed against yours, locking it in place. You gasped at the pain, your pussy clenching around nothing as he furiously rubbed your clit. Your insides curled and you gulped for air, feeling the pain and pleasure rise into a crescendo.

“What if I stop, noona?” Jungkook barked sharply. “Since you’re being such a fucking brat.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to push back your own orgasm, relishing in his anger.

“I have a condom,” you panted, giving him an open-mouthed smirk. “Keep one in my wallet now, j-just for you, Jungkook.”

You saw something in his eyes change, something between an amused sparkle and an agonizing lust.

“Is that so?” Jungkook purred, bringing his face close to yours. His breath lit your skin on fire, the tense knot closing in on you fast as he rubbed you even faster, so fast that it felt like a vibrator on your aching clit. “So, you can always be prepared for me? So, I can take you wherever, whenever I want?”

You bit your lip, nodding, eyes glazing over as the first wave crashed on you.

“Fuck yeeeeees, Jungkook, whatever you fucking want,” you moaned, back arching, legs shuddering, letting him rub you as your hips jerked. Viscous liquid dripping down your thighs, pussy pulsating wetly, hands flat against the wall. He was going to be the death of you, making you agree to such crazy things in the middle of your fucking orgasm.

Jungkook let go of your leg. You leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath, pretty sure all this was going to get you expelled. Even if there was no one in the building, someone down the street probably heard you by now with how loud this was becoming. You heard rustling under you, Jungkook going through your pockets on the floor to find your wallet, pulling out the condom.

“You’re actually insane,” you panted, blinking slowly as you watched Jungkook unzip his jeans, shoving them down. “I can’t even stand.”

Fuck, even just him pulling out his half-hard cock was already getting you wet again. Jungkook smirked at you, seeing your eyes on him. He stroked the length slowly, running his large hand over it. You frowned at him, tapping your hand against the wall in annoyance.

“I’m giving you a break,” he murmured, staring at your body as he gripped his cock, pumping once. He gasped, breathing your name.

“At least let me touch it,” you pouted, not even sure how you were still upright. Just pure lust, apparently.

Jungkook looked at you through his lashes, lips parting, tongue darting between them. He thrust his hips into his hand. You stiffened, seeing his wanton, arrogant expression. He wasn’t going to let you touch it. He was going to make you watch, frustrated, as he stroked himself to full hardness.

“Jungkook…”

He cocked an eyebrow at you, rolling his body into his hand, moaning softly.

“Jungkook, please…”

His tongue danced between his lips, moving his hand up and down slowly, rocking his hips into his cock, enjoying your pleading tone, your hands clenching into fists, your body heaving at the loss of him.

“Jungkook, come on,” you whined, spreading your legs, watching the angry red head disappear and reappear in the curve of his fingers. “I want you. Please.”

He took a step towards you, still stroking himself. “Yeah?” he breathed. Another step. And another. He still didn’t tell you that you could touch him yet, so you kept your hands at your sides, switching between his dark, lustful eyes and his rapidly hardening cock thrusting into his hand. “You want me, noona? You want to touch my cock?”

And now Jungkook was right next to you, still jacking himself off, the velvety, thick head rubbing against the smooth skin of your thigh. You moaned as you felt his pre-cum smearing onto your skin, adding to his lubrication.

“Y-yes,” you whispered, eyes glued to his cock rubbing against your fucking leg. Fuck, you wanted it in your mouth so bad. “Let me touch you, Jungkook.”

He leaned forward, lips brushing against your ear, his dark locks brushing against your cheek. His voice was a deep drawl, low and teasing, breath hot against your skin.

“Tell you what,” Jungkook purred. “I’ll let you put the condom on.” You whimpered, disappointed. “And then I’ll fuck you against this wall, nice and hard and fast, not stopping until I cum because of that delicious, sweet, tight pussy of yours.”

If you had any sanity left, it rapidly disappeared as you nodded hastily, wordlessly holding out your hands as Jungkook dropped the condom in your palm. He calmly removed his hand, his thick, fully hard cock erect as you slid the condom down, moaning as you felt the traces of his veins and muscle pulsing under your hands. Once you were done, Jungkook pushed your hands away, not giving you a chance to disobey him.

You pouted. “You’re a jerk.”

He grinned at you, lifting your leg and pinning it to your chest. “And you’re about to get fucked.”

In less than a second, Jungkook thrust his hips up and into you, tearing a gasp from your throat as he rapidly entered you, peeling apart your soaking, abused walls. You bit your tongue, grabbing his dress shirt as he rolled his hips into you again, groaning as he felt you clench around him.

“That’s it, noona,” he exhaled, slamming his hips into you. “You better fucking hold me tight. If I slip out, that’s all the fucking you’ll get from me.”

You whined, feeling him start a bruising pace, hands clamped onto your ass. Whether he was lying or not didn’t matter because you were squeezing your pussy for dear life, crying out as he thrust into you over and over, so full and overstimulated you didn’t know whether to focus on your aching, raw pussy or his cock periodically throbbing inside you, swelling against your walls.

You hooked your leg around his waist, changing the angle, instantly feeling him ram his cock into a deeper, more pleasurable spot. You tipped your head back, eyes rolling up into your head as your mouth opened, tongue sliding out. He pounded you relentlessly, your shoulder blades smacking the wall. Your swollen clit rubbed against the base of his cock repeatedly. Your body was going to ache all over tomorrow, but you still rose your hips to meet his, so drunk on the feeling of his cock stretching you out that nothing else mattered. You came suddenly, wailing Jungkook’s name, pussy spasming and squeezing him but he set his jaw and fucked you even harder, using every ounce of his energy to keep his own orgasm at bay.

“Who owns this body, noona?” he ground out. “Tell me, who owns this fucking body?”

You had to claw for your words, throat so strained your voice was thin. “Y-you do, Jungkook, oh fuck, oh fuck…”

“That’s fucking right,” he growled. “If you cum, it’s for me and only me. No. One. Else.” He punctuated each word by slapping his hips into you, sliding you up into the wall so gravity crashed you back down onto his cock. You moaned, helpless, as he hissed, shoving his face into your tits to moan hotly into your chest as he came, violent, thick jerks of his cock shuddering into you. Quickly, he gripped your hips and pulled up, hissing as half of his cock slid out, cum leaking out of the bottom of the condom and splatting onto the floor.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Fuck.”

You could barely register anything as he hoisted you onto his shoulder, cursing loudly. Jungkook leaned against the wall with one shoulder, panting, the other half-carrying you, arm wrapped around your waist. The only thing that brought you back to reality was the fact that your bare ass was in the air and your pants were hanging off one leg.

“Jungkook,” you croaked. “Let me down.”

He lowered you, still leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath. His hair covered almost his whole face, sweaty and glistening. He wiped some sweat off his chin with the back of his hand, flicking it away carelessly.

You pressed your back flat against the wall, using at as leverage to pull your pants back up, wincing at the now familiar cold feeling of your soaked panties meeting your abused pussy. You crouched to collect your sock and your shoe, wincing as pain radiated up your back.

Jungkook chuckled, watching you struggle with your sneaker. “Want help?”

You grunted, shoving it on. “Can we stop fucking in random ass places at school?”

“You said I could fuck you wherever I want, whenever I want,” he teased, giving you an open-mouthed smirk.

You readjusted your bra, putting it back on. You found the two bits of condom wrapping, shoving it in your pocket. “I did, but I want to see you fully naked for once, you punk.”

Jungkook laughed, rich and full. “I support this idea if you’re also fully naked.”

You made a face as you got up, trying to keep your steps steady so you didn’t seem like a drunk idiot. Or someone who just got railed by Jeon Jungkook.

“Give me the condom.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “I was going to drop it here. Mark my territory.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and took it from him as he extended his hand out. “Your buttons did that for you already,” you remarked, tying it up.

He smirked, zipping up his jeans. “You owe me a new shirt.”

“And you owe me new panties, again,” you shot back. “Where are my replacements?”

He shrugged, running a hand through his hair to push it back. Fuck. Open shirt, half-exposed forehead, smug-as-fuck Jungkook got you wet just by looking at him.

“Guess we should go shopping sometime.”

He smiled slyly, patting his pockets. His expression abruptly changed to confusion. He pulled out his wallet and phone, frowning. “Where are my car keys?” He furrowed his brow, looking at his phone. You found your keys and wallet still with you, surprised that they didn’t fall out of your pants. You phone was in your backpack, still in your car. He swiped at his phone, reading his messages.

Jungkook groaned. “I dropped them and Jimin took my car. Bastard.”

Fuck, his fucking deliciously toned and tan chest was distracting you. “I still have my keys,” you muttered, staring at his abs. Suddenly you started, realizing he was advancing on you.

“Oh?” Jungkook purred, opening his shirt wider. The fabric tumbled off his right shoulder, exposing his tattoos. His long dark hair covered part of his right eye, brown orbs glimmering with mischief.

“Wanna take me home, noona?”

Welp.

-

part iii

--

masterpost

[watchmegetobsessed]

Flatmates - Harry Styles

i listened to kiwi while writing it so i strongly advise to listen to is while reading as well. without any further ado, i present you this flatmate!harry fic with some steamy smut!

word count: ~9k

warning: smut

masterlist

You were desperate to find a place to live, to say the least. You’ve always had trouble remembering deadlines and important dates, and thanks to this charming trait of yours, you successfully missed the deadline of the college dormitory applications. After a day of solid panic you started looking for cheap apartments, but living off campus seemed to be something only rich people could afford. Rents were ridiculously high and you were certain you couldn’t afford to spend thousands of dollars for a room smaller than your pantry back at home. You watched ad after ad, making calls all day for a week straight, but at the end, you always went to bed with the thought that you’ll have to live under a bridge through the first semester of your freshman year.

It was until a friend of yours, Rita, who was mature enough to apply to the dormitory in time called you with the best news you could receive.

“This friend of my future roomie is looking for a flat mate. You gave me his number, maybe you could give him a call and see if the room is still available. Just tell him Kimberly gave you his number, I’m sure he’ll offer you the room on a nicer price.”

“Oh my God, you just saved my life!” you gasped, almost feeling like crying. “I owe you big time, Rita!”

You called right away, not wanting to waste any time and maybe have the room already rented by then. A deep, male voice answered the call in a soothing British accent.

“Harry Styles,” he said in a calm tone.

“Hey! My name is Y/N and I got your number from Kimberly. I’m looking for a place to live from September and I was told you have a room to rent?”

Harry sounded a little hesitant at first, asked a few questions about you to have a better picture of you, but eventually offered the room. You quickly agreed that you’d be able to move in at the end of August. You were thankful you had one less worry about school finally.

August rolled around the corner faster than you expected and in no time, half your life was packed up into boxes and suitcases as you and your dad drove two hours on a Saturday to get you all settled in your new home. Up until this point, you hadn’t seen Harry just yet. Though you did search up his name, but he was the kind to never post about himself, but mostly about guitars, landscapes and animals. His Instagram was dry, no trait of what he looked like or even the slightest hint about himself. There was only one photo that featured the outline of a guy, which makes it clear that the person was fully naked, no trace of any clothes hanging on his body, but it was completely dark, so nothing could be really seen. However the tag on the figure made you think it wasn’t him, so it didn’t matter. His Facebook seemed even sadder, barely any posts, not even a decent profile picture. You were surprised to see there are people who don’t really use social media, but you didn’t take it as a bad sign. Harry must be a private person and you had nothing against that.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to move in with a guy you’ve never met before?” your dad asks as the two of you are unloading the car in front of the apartment complex. Glancing up you shrug your shoulders with a little excitement, knowing that you are only minutes away from finally seeing the person you are gonna spend your next months living with.

“He sounded like a decent person, and I really don’t have any other choice, dad. Or do you want me to sleep in a park or something?”

“God, no. You really should be more careful about those deadlines next time,” he sighs kissing the top of your head before shutting the back of the car once everything is set on the ground.

“Don’t worry, I already bought a calendar so I can keep better track of everything.”

When you first told your parents that you’d be living with Harry, they didn’t seem to be a fan of the idea, but they realized you weren’t really swimming in options at the moment so they eventually come to peace that their daughter is going to be living with a guy. They didn’t make a big deal out of it, knowing well you were an adult now practically who can make choices for herself.

The two of you manage to bring everything up to the third floor and you ring the doorbell since you don’t have your keys yet. You immediately recognize Harry’s British accent as he calls out a “coming!” from the other side of the door and a few seconds later it opens, revealing him.

Your first thought is that he is tall. Very tall and oh my! How handsome! His green eyes find your gaze and his dimples come out as he smiles at you happily. This man is surely a nice sight, you think to yourself, but you quickly bring yourself back to reality as he takes a look at all the stuff surrounding you.

“Y/N, why didn’t you call me that you were here? I could have helped you!” Taking a step outside he stretches his hand out for your dad. “Nice to meet ya, you must be Mr. Y/L/N. I’m Harry.”

“Nice to meet you,” your dad nods at him shaking his head before Harry grabs a box from the floor himself, holding the door open for you.

“Come on in!”

The three of you quickly bring everything inside from the hallway and you finally have a moment to look around. It’s not a big apartment, but seemingly perfect for two people. Walking in you have a small kitchen on the left and a little dining area on the right with a simple table and four chairs around it. Further inside is the living room, it’s nicely furnished very bright thanks to the large windows across the front door. On the left there’s a door that leads to the bathroom and on the right there’s a small hallway, two doors on each side. The two rooms are exactly the same size, so there was no need to have a discussion about who is getting which room. Not that you were gonna go against Harry when he literally saved your life with letting you stay with him.

The place seems tidy and neat, it’s clear that Harry takes good care of his home and that is for sure a relief.

Your room has a double bed, a desk with a chair, a dresser and a built in little closet. Everything is white or a light beige color, nothing extreme and you already have plans about how you want to decorate it to make it cozier.

“I left two shelves free for you out of the three. I have a few hair products, but I figured you’d need more space,” Harry tells you when you put a smaller box into the bathroom that has all your toiletries.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” you smile at him.

Your dad sticks around a little longer helping you unpack some of the bigger boxes, then you walk him down to his car before he leaves.

“Please call your mother often. You know how much she worries about you,” he asks as he pulls you into a quick hug.

“Will do.”

“And call us anytime you need help. Two hours is not that far away, I can always come and get you.”

“I’ll be alright, dad, but thank you.”

You watch him climb into the car and he rolls down the windows waving in your way as he leaves from the parking lot. You stand there until he disappears on the corner and then go back up to your apartment.

Harry is sitting in the living room when you get back, some quiet music playing from the Bluetooth speaker as he reads a book. He glances up at you and you flash him a smile closing the door behind you.

“Your dad seemed quite okay with you living with a guy.”

“He had time to get used to it. They’re not that strict though.”

“That’s cool. I was thinking, maybe we could order some food when you’re done unpacking and just get to know each other a little more.”

“That sounds great!” you smile, but can’t ignore how fast your heart is beating in your chest. Harry surely has an effect on you that you’ll need to gain control over if you don’t want to make living together hard for yourself.

It takes quite some time to unpack everything and find the right place for your stuff, you don’t even finish by the time the food arrives so you decide to leave the rest for tomorrow.

The Chinese food is all set on the table when you walk out and Harry is getting two plates for the two of you.

“Settled in?” he asks as you take one of the chairs and he sits across you.

“Not fully, but I’m getting there,” you chuckle as he hands you your order. “Thank you.”

You talk over the food, just getting to know each other and you finally get a better picture of Harry. It’s his third year of college, he is studying music and pedagogy, intending to one day use music as a helping tool for kids who have learning difficulties. He is a big fan of collecting vinyls and quite passionate about trashy rom coms.

“Really?” you chuckle when he mentions how his Netflix queue is filled with romantic movies.

“Guilty pleasure,” he nods smirking.

You tell a little about yourself too and he seems genuinely interested, which feels nice. You would have hated if he found your interests boring and negligible, but that’s not the case.

“How come you couldn’t find a roommate for so long?” you ask the question that’s been in the back of your mind for quite a while now. Both of you are done eating and you’re cleaning up the table.

Nothing really stood out about Harry just yet, it’s quite a mystery for you why he couldn’t find someone to live with him.

“Well, you could say I’m a little picky in this field. Lived with my best mate first year, and though I absolutely love him, he was horrible to live with. Felt like his personal maid the whole time. When Niall moved in with his girlfriend and I had to move on my own I promised myself I would choose carefully. Lived with a PhD student last year, he was pretty great, but he moved out when he graduated, and I couldn’t really find someone I liked since then.”

“Glad I passed then,” you chuckle as you take the dishes and start washing them while Harry stands next to you, leaning against the edge of the counter.

“You seemed like a decent person to live with, I hope I won’t be wrong about that,” he chuckles, but you can tell he is still a little scared you might turn out to be a total asshole.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be too much trouble. I’m quiet like a mouse and clean up after myself.”

“That’s all that matters,” he smiles. “Alright, I have some things to finish, I’ll be in my room if you need help with anything.”

“Thank you, Harry.”

He waves in your way before disappearing in his bedroom.

You spend most of your Sunday unpacking what was left and running errands, buying groceries so you don’t have to go to the store every other day during the week. You occasionally meet Harry in the kitchen or the living room, but you both just do your own thing and it’s totally fine by you.

School starts quiet smoothly, Harry was kind enough to give you a rundown of where you’ll find your lecture halls so you don’t really get lost around campus, easily finding your way.

Friday afternoon you and Rita are sitting at a café near campus to discuss the first week of school. You don’t have any classes together, so only grabbed lunch two times all week, but didn’t have more than twenty minutes together before one of you had to run to a class. Now you are both comfortably sat in a booth with two cappuccinos and plenty of time to talk.

“So, how is living with Harry?” she curiously asks.

“He is great! Though we don’t meet that much. He has a band so he has practice three times a week, spends the rest of his time at home reading or watching TV.”

You ate dinner together twice this week, but you haven’t really had the courage to join him in the living room when he was watching TV. It sounds stupid but you figured maybe it would bother him if you were out there with him. And since he didn’t invite you either, you just stayed in your room mostly.

“Kimberly told me he is hot, is that true?” she asks with a smirk as she takes a sip from her hot drink. You immediately feel your cheeks heating up.

“Well, he surely is a good looking guy,” you breathe out.

“Lucky you! There’s not much of those in an all girls dorm,” she pouts and you chuckle. “So are you gonna make a move on him?”

“That’s not gonna happen,” you shake your head laughing.

“Why not?”

“Because we live together and if he rejects me that would be so awkward for the rest of our time living together.”

“But you can’t know for sure if he would reject,” she points out, but she can’t bring up one thing that would change your mind.

“It’s better not to take the odds. I don’t want to end up on the street.”

 As the days go by, things start to get busier in your everydays. Assignments and papers start to pile up so you have to start working on them if you don’t want to leave everything to the last moment. You become a regular in the library, the atmosphere is great for you to get into the flow and get a lot of work done.

It seems like Harry is in the same shoe, he is often in and out of the apartment, sometimes only spends home just a couple of minutes before he leaves again. However they slowly get accustomed to each other, learn the ways the other likes things and work up a schedule for things. Harry learns that Y/N likes to take a shower twice a day and washes her hair usually on Wednesdays and Sundays, so he doesn’t try to take too much time in the bathroom on those days. He also notices how she doesn’t have time to wash the dishes after herself on Thursdays when she just runs home to have a quick bite before she has to leave for another lecture, so they came to a silent agreement where Harry cleans up after her on Thursdays while she takes up on the dishes on Saturday when Harry leaves to band practice at eight.

They work well together and soon enough all of Harry’s doubts about Y/N fade into nothing and he realizes he has made the right choice with her.

Usually she stays at the library until seven on Mondays, but this week they are closing early because they are rearranging a whole department, so Y/N leaves a little after five. She pays a quick trip to the grocery store before she heads home. Opening up the door she immediately hears the music playing, one of Harry’s vinyls is twirling around in the record player and she hears the water running in the bathroom. Setting her bags on the counter she starts unpacking the groceries.

The music and the running water pushed the sound of her arriving down, Harry didn't realize that you were home early when he opens the bathroom door, singing to himself wearing absolutely nothing as he wants to go and grab a pair of clean underwear, but he is shocked to see you standing in the kitchen.

“Shit!” he snaps, hands immediately flying to cover himself as he sprints back to the bathroom quickly grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist.

Your cheeks are heating up immediately even though you didn’t see anything you weren’t supposed to, the counter top covered him just right above the critical line, but it’s the first time you’ve seen his upper body completely naked.

Even though it was just a spit second, the sight of his many tattoos and the defined V-line leading down to his crotch burned straight into your mind, leaving you flustered and shy all of a sudden.

“Sorry! I should have let you know I was coming home early!” you call out turning around, as if he was about to walk out naked again. Harry chuckles lightly as he returns, this time a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Don’t be silly, you don’t have to check in when you come home. It was my fault, I shouldn’t just walk around naked assuming you wouldn’t be home.”

You should, you think to yourself gulping as you turn around and dare to look at him again. You don’t see less than just a few seconds ago, his chest is glistening from the dampness, his curls are still wet and you are having a hard time not to stare at the tattoos on his lower stomach, so you busy yourself with the rest of your groceries as he walks into his room and returns in a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt.

“Any plans for the weekend?” he asks disappearing in the bathroom, but he leaves the door open and you hear him shuffle around, probably fixing up his hair. He uses some kind of mousse that keeps his curls perfectly and also happens to smell like mango and some kind of citrus.

“Um, not really.”

“We’re playing at this bar with the band, wanna come and watch us?” Walking out of the bathroom he switches the light off before walking to the couch and opening up his Netflix account on the TV. His invitation surprises you, but it also feels nice he wants you there.

“Oh, sounds fun! Can I bring someone?”

“Of course! I can have a table reserved for you, if you’d like,” he smiles at you before turning his attention to the screen.

“That would be great, thanks.”

You feel like after your little encounter it’s probably not the best day to join him at the TV, especially because you can’t stop yourself from blushing every time you look at him. The sight of his naked torso pops up in your mind every time and there’s no way you can just casually sit on the couch with him without your body lighting up on fire.

 Rita is excited when you tell her about the invitation, you don’t even have to convince her to go with you since she is dying to finally meet Harry. When he leaves in the early afternoon on Saturday he assures you that there’s gonna be a table reserved under your name, and off he goes to practice, leaving you alone for the rest of the day since he tells you he won’t be back before the concert tonight. Rita comes over around six and the two of you get ready together.

“You have to wear something spicy,” she wiggles her eyebrows at you while you sit at your desk applying mascara to your lashes.

“I don’t want to overdress, it’s just a bar.”

“Yeah, but Harry invited you. I bet he wants you to see him play.”

“Of course he wants, why else would he invite me?” you ask with furrowed eyebrows.

“You don’t get it,” she chuckles turning to you, hands on her hips. “He wants you to see him play because it feeds his ego. Maybe even turns him on.”

“Stop acting like there is anything between us. We are flatmates and that’s all.”

“I think he wants to be more, you’re just too pussy to make a move yourself,” she shrugs turning back to your closet.

“Stop calling me a pussy for not wanting to make it awkward for the two of us to live together. I’m pretty sure Harry doesn’t see me as anything more than just the person he lives with.”

“Then we have to change that. And I think this is the perfect dress for that.”

Rita pulls out a little black dress you bought about a year ago, but never really got around to wear it. It’s so tight, pushes your tits up way too much for your liking, you’re not even sure why you bought it in the first place.

“I’m not wearing that,” you shake your head.

“Are you afraid he might get a boner from you in it?”

“Rita!” you snap at her, but she just chuckles.

“Look, if you’re so sure he doesn’t want you like that, why does it matter what you wear?”

She has a point. It’s not like this dress will change anything and it would be nice to wear at least once in your life this stupid dress if you bought it.

Grabbing it from her hands you throw it to the bed and start undressing as she claps in victory.

You remembered right, the dress leaves close to nothing to the imagination when it comes to your figure. The fabric hugs your figure tightly, and you put on a lacy bralette that peeks out at the top of the dress, kind of covering some more from your skin, since the dress doesn’t do much in that field itself. Rita tries to convince you not to take a jacket, but you throw your denim jacket on, feeling the need to have something give you the slightest sense of being covered.

You arrive at the bar twenty minutes before the concert starts and it’s a good thing Harry reserved a table for you, because the place is packed. You’re not sure if it’s because of them or it’s just a regular Saturday evening.

The little stage is all set up, but you see no sign of Harry anywhere as the two of you settle at your table with a drink. Luckily, the bartender did not ask for an ID, he was too busy looking at your chest. At least there’s one good thing in this dress.

The drum set at the back has the name of the band on it and you smile reading it. The word ‘Stylish’ is printed on it with bold blue letters, referring to Harry’s last name, who is most likely the front man of the band.

The place is buzzing and the two of you enjoy being out at a bar concert. When the lights go down you finally spot him walking out of the back followed by a guy and two girls.

“Welcome, folks,” he greets the audience, his accent filling up the place over the chatters. A round of cheering answers him, making him smile. “Thank you for coming out tonight, we hope to entertain you in the next hour. Our name is Stylish and now let’s get down to business,” he smirks and just as he takes a step back from the mic, the band starts playing. Harry grabs a guitar himself before stepping back to the mic and then he starts singing.

They play a mixture of covers and original songs, the transition between them is so smooth you sometimes forget it’s a whole different song that’s playing. Harry is clearly enjoying the spotlight, his presence on the stage is so natural and capturing, you often catch yourself forgetting about the rest of the band.

One song follows the other and you don’t even realize how fast this hour passes by. Harry sometimes stops in-between songs, entertaining the audience with small jokes and just casually interacting with them.

“Our last song is up next, so let me take a moment to introduce the band,” Harry speaks into the mic while softly playing the guitar so it’s not completely quiet as he talks. “At the drums, the amazing and talented Sarah Jones!”

A round of applause fills the bar as Sara waves around smiling widely, before Harry moves on to the next member.

“Playing the piano, the wonderful Charlotte Clark!”

Charlotte plays a short melody on the keys matching up with what Harry has been playing, before she also waves at the audience.

“The guy who is a way better guitarist than me, Mitch Rowland.”

Harry’s comment makes the audience laugh and Mitch just nods shyly, a smile pulling on his lips under his mustache.

“And this handsome Brit who sometimes acts like a comedian,” Sarah starts leaning closer to her mic. “Harry Styles.”

It’s no surprise that Harry gets the biggest cheering and he smirks sweetly, his fingers still strumming on the guitar. The clapping and screaming slowly dies down and as Harry steps back to his mic they start the last song.

It’s quite an upbeat, funky song, you just can’t resist dancing around on your chair and seemingly Rita is enjoying herself as well, cheering with her beer in her hand. The song comes to an end and they all line up at the front of the stage bowing down together as the whole bar cheers on them as one person.

“Woah, this was… something else,” Rita breathes out once they disappear at the back and chatter fills up the place once again and the lights come back.

“They smashed it!” you nod in agreement. You figured they are good if they get asked to perform, but this was way beyond what you were expecting.

Looking around you are hoping to see Harry somewhere, but they must be celebrating somewhere at the back. Maybe he won’t even come out, you think to yourself as you finish up your beer.

“I’ll get us another round,” you tell Rita as you make your way to the bar.

There are quite a few people waiting to be served, so you squeeze yourself into the crowd and hope to get to the front soon.

“So how did you like it?”

You jump in surprise when you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind you, and turning around you see how close he is standing to you.

“Hi! I didn’t even see you sneak up on me,” you chuckle making him smile as he squeezes himself next to you. The two of you finally reach the front, but the bartender is serving someone a little on the left so you have to wait. “I loved it, you were like a proper rockstar up there!”

“Thanks,” he chuckles and his dimples show up on his cheeks. The bartender finally gets to you and Harry is quick to order for the both of you. “’S probably better if I place the order since you’re not twenty one just yet.”

“Didn’t have any problem ordering the first time,” you smirk smugly and Harry raises his eyebrows at you before his eyes wander down your body for a second.

“I bet you didn’t in this dress.”

Suddenly, you’re very aware of how daring your outfit looks, so out of reflex, you pull your jacket tighter on yourself, Harry’s smile quickly fades as he realizes that he made you uncomfortable with his comment.

“I meant that you look really pretty. Definitely makes you appear a little older though.”

“My friend wanted me to wear it, I would have been fine with something else,” you admit as the bartender places your order in front of you and Harry pays for the whole thing.

“Glad she convinced you,” he grins down at you and you can feel your cheeks heating up once again.

He helps you carry the drinks to the table and Rita quickly puts her phone away when she sees who you are returning with.

“Harry, this is my friend, Rita. Rita, this is Harry,” you introduce them and Harry shakes her head smiling.

“Nice to meet you,” he nods kindly.

“Oh, same goes for you,” Rita smirks and you roll your eyes at her.

“I’ll go get the rest of the band, do you mind if we join you guys here? There are no empty tables.”

“Sure,” you nod smiling before the crowd swallows Harry.

“For fuck’s sake, you have to make a move on him, Y/N!” Rita turns to you as soon as he is gone.

“Would you stop?” you chuckle.

“No! This dude is so hot I forget my name when I look at him! And you live with him! You can’t miss this chance, Y/N.”

“I’m not missing anything. We live together, it’s not worth it.”

“Not missing anything?” Rita looks at you as if you were mental. “You are literally missing everything!”

“I’m done with this conversation,” you tell him just when Harry appears again, this time with two of his bandmates, Sarah and Mitch are following him smiling, hand in hand.

“Charlotte had to leave early, but this is Sarah and Mitch,” Harry introduces them as they join the two of you at the table. “And this is my flatmate, Y/N and her friend Rita.”

You all shake hands as Harry sorts out the extra beers he has ordered so everyone has a drink on their hand.

It’s no surprise, but Sarah and Mitch prove themselves to be just as cool as they seemed up on the stage. And the best thing is that they don’t shy away from sharing funny stories that include Harry.

“So have you been looking for a new place to stay, Y/N?” Mitch jokes. “I’m sure you’ve had enough of Harry by now.”

“Very funny,” Harry laughs at his bandmate’s comment.

“To be honest it’s pretty fine so far. He is a pleasant person to share your home with,” you say with a soft chuckle.

“What’s one thing you hate about living with him?” Sarah asks and Harry pretends to be hurt over the question.

“Who said there’s anything she hates?”

“Shush, I was asking her!” she hushes at him making you laugh.

“I really can’t point out anything in particular. Maybe he has been very careful, luring me into believing that he is the perfect flatmate so I get stuck with him.”

You stay for a while, just chatting and having a good time until the bar starts to empty out and you decide it’s better if you head home as well.

“We have to take care of the equipment, are you leaving or do you want to wait for me?” Harry asks you.

“We’ll just call an Uber, don’t worry about it,” you smile at him.

“Alright, see you at home.”

You say goodbye to Sarah and Mitch and part your ways with them as you and Rite head outside.

“I hope you noticed how Harry was looking at you,” Rita smirks at you when the two of you are sitting at the back of the Uber.

“What are you talking about?” you sigh leaning your head against the seat.

“I caught him staring at you quite a few times.”

“He was just probably looking at me when I was talking. Don’t try to talk something into it that’s not true.”

“Alright, I’ll stop,” she replies holding up her hands. “But I still think you are missing out on some amazing dick.”

You awkwardly glance at the driver who is hearing everything you say, but Rita seemingly doesn’t mind that you’re not alone.

“You know what? We should give Tinder a try.”

“What? Why?”

“If you don’t want to make a move on your hot flatmate, we need to get some satisfaction from others.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Oh, you are not,” she chuckles. “But you will be when you match with the hottest guys on campus.”

You let Rita believe that she convinced you to sign up for Tinder, but you get out of the car with the intention of never downloading the app, like ever.

Walking into the apartment you grab a clean, oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties since your sleeping shorts are all dirty, but you were planning to do the laundry tomorrow. You decide it’s not a big deal and the shirt will probably cover enough of your body.

You take a quick shower to get off the thick smell of the bar that’s stuck on your skin, taking your time moisturizing yourself once you’re done. When you get dressed you see that the shirt does cover your bum, but if you lifted your arms up it surely shows a big portion of your ass, so you’ll have to be careful if Harry arrives.

You’re lounging on the couch watching a rerun of House M.D. and scrolling through your phone when Harry arrives.

“Hey there, rockstar!” you greet him teasingly and he just chuckles shyly.

“Is it gonna be my new nickname?”

“Well, you really were one tonight, so I think yes,” you nod making him laugh. Walking further inside his eyes stop on your bare legs and he is quick to notice that you’re not wearing any pants, like you usually do. You immediately tug on the end of the shirt to cover more of your skin, but it’s not really working.

“Ehm, I’ll go and take a quick shower,” he informs you before disappearing in his room first and then rushing into the bathroom.

Looking down at your attire you decide it’ll be better if you threw on some sweats. Harry clearly got a little uncomfortable seeing you so bare, so it’s better to cover up. You’ll just take them off when you go to bed.

Harry doesn’t take too long in there, and when he joins you on the couch you are pretty sure he took a cold shower since no steam followed him when he left the bathroom. His eyes flicker to your now covered legs, but he doesn’t say anything, just makes himself comfortable next to you.

“You like it?” he asks nodding at the TV.

“Yeah, he is such an asshole, but it’s funny,” you huff. “Hey, I took a few pictures tonight. Wanna see if you like any of them?”

“Sure,” he nods pushing himself up a little as you unlock your phone and show him the photos you took of him and the band while performing.

Some of them ended up really cool, you were able to catch the lights and their movements just the right way, especially one stands out where he was holding out a note, basically screaming into the mic, he really looks like a rockstar on that one.

“Can you send me this one?”

“Done,” you smile at him and glancing over you see that he opens the Instagram app on his phone. You watch him crop and adjust it a little bit, then tag his bandmates and finally, he posts it.

“Wow, this is the first picture on your page with you actually on it,” you tease him.

“So you’ve been stalking my profile?” he smirks at you.

“I wanted to check you out before I moved in, but your social media was no help in that.”

“Yeah, I’m not a fan of posting that much, but this was a cool picture.”

“It’s an honor to know that I took the first one featuring you.”

“Actually, this is the second one, but it is the first one where my face is visible,” Harry tells you before turning his attention back to the TV, but the gears start to turn wildly in your mind, trying to remember which picture could be the other one.

Later, when you’re lying in your bed with your door closed, you pull up his profile and stat scrolling down. Most of the pictures fall out, because they have absolutely no trace of any human being on them. But then you stop at the one that features a black silhouette of a man, the one you thought wasn’t him.

Opening up you tap on the tag and see that it leads to Mitch’s profile, but now that you’ve met him, you’re pretty sure it’s not him in the picture. So you take a closer look and as you go over the small details, like the line of his neck, how wide his shoulders are and the untamed curls, you soon realize that it is indeed Harry in the photo.

You push down a moan when realization sets in, because that means that you’re staring at the naked silhouette of Harry and it immediately starts a fire between your legs.

“Jesus,” you whisper as you let yourself stare at the photo a little longer. You weren’t expecting it, but it’s surely making you feel some kind of way.

Locking your phone you throw it to your nightstand before you bury your head into your pillow. You have to press your thighs together quite tightly to make the throbbing sensation stop so you can finally fall asleep. Well, it takes some time before that happens and it’s quite torturous.

  Unlike how you planned, Rita finally gets you to download Tinder and give it a try. She helps you set up your profile, and though at first it feels incredibly awkward, you slowly adjust to being out there on the virtual market.

You start swiping left and right whenever you are bored during classes or you’re having a break from studying. Your matches start to pile up and soon enough you start getting messages as well. You reply to the ones you like or find funny and creative, giving them a chance, but not many end up going too far. Somehow the conversations always die down and you lose interest in the person.

Only one guy gets as far as asking you out and getting a yes as an answer. Jordan is a physics major and seemed like a nice and funny guy through the messages, good-looking too, so you decided to give it a go.

So Friday evening you dolled yourself up, put on a nice blouse with your favorite skinny jeans and black heels, ready to head out to your first ever Tinder date.

As you walk out of your room you find Harry in the kitchen in his basketball shorts and a simple black t-shirt making himself a cup of tea. The shorts are hanging low on his waist and as he reaches up to get the hones from the cupboard you get a glimpse of the soft skin on his lower waist. You quickly look away before you could have any further thoughts about what else is under the waistband of his shorts.

“Oh, where are you heading all dressed up?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

“I actually have a date,” you admit nervously as you grab your keys and put it away in your purse.

“Lucky guy,” he smiles and you can feel your cheeks heating up again. There’s just something in the way he compliments you, it makes your knees go jelly.

“Thanks. I’ll see you later? I’m not sure when I’ll be back,” you tell him grabbing your jacket from the hanger next to the front door.

“Have fun,” he nods before you walk out.

 Jordan proves himself to be quite frankly the same guy you got to know through messages. He takes you to this Mexican themed bar and you are just chatting over some exciting looking cocktails, but you find yourself zoning out sometimes.

What is Harry doing right now? Is he staying at home? I should have asked if he had any plans. Maybe he is hooking up with someone right now.

You find yourself thinking about way more than you probably should and it’s making you lose your shit. So maybe this is why, or because Rita told you to just go with the flow, but when Jordan asks if you want to go up to his place you say yes.

It’s as awkward and bad as you were expecting, unfortunately. There’s a reason why you don’t hook up with every random guy you go out with once. You are totally on different pages, but when you are lying under him on his bed, you just know there’s no way out.

It’s not that he forces you, because you’re sure he would have stopped if you asked, but it would be so awkward to just walk out because you weren’t feeling the vibe. So at least one of you should enjoy it.

You should deserve an Oscar for that orgasm you fake, it’s so believable. Jordan doesn’t seem to notice that you felt absolutely nothing, just frustration and impatience, he tries to make you stay the night, but you save yourself with a lie that you have to wake up early in the morning so it’s best if you head home.

Your frustration just grows on your way home. You were really hoping to get laid tonight, so maybe that could stop you from fantasizing about Harry, because your thoughts have been wild since you found out that he is the one on that Instagram picture. It doesn’t help that he has been walking around shirtless quite a lot.

Shameful or not, you even touched yourself once thinking about him. You were home alone after a particularly boring day so you thought you’d just get yourself off. Before you could realize where your thoughts have wandered, you were moaning his name as you came hard. You couldn’t look into his eyes that day when he came home, he probably thought you were nuts, basically running away from him.

It’s almost midnight when you get back home, you were expecting Harry to be asleep by now since he has band practice in the morning, but you are surprised to see light coming from his room. As you close the front door, kicking your heels off he walks out, of course, without a shirt, his glorious body on full display.

“Hey, how was your date?” he asks as you step to the fridge to get yourself something to drink. You’ve been so damn thirsty since Jordan was… done with you, you could have asked for some water at least, but you just wanted to leave as fast as possible.

“Ugh, don’t even ask,” you whine, leaning against the counter.

“That bad?”

“Worse,” you roll your eyes and Harry chuckles softly.

“Come on, it couldn’t be that bad if you came home so late.”

“Well, it did start off nice, but I shouldn’t have said yes when he asked if I wanted to go to his place.”

“Oh.”

“Worst sex of my life, I wanted out the moment we arrived, to be honest,” you honestly say, feeling a little weird that you’re talking to Harry about it, but you just want to get it off your chest.

“Then why didn’t you just leave?”

“Dunno, I just… I was hoping for just a little satisfaction, but I guess I asked for too much,” you sigh finishing up your water and you walk past him with the intention to grab your pajamas and have a shower that would wash away the happenings of the night, but Harry’s voice stops you.

“Not everything is lost just yet.” Turning around you give him a puzzled look.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He bites into his bottom lip and lets his eyes travel down your body, his intent gaze sends a shiver down your spine. When his eyes return to your gaze your heart is wildly beating against your chest.

“I mean that… I can make you feel good, if you want.”

Your mouth hangs open and your eyebrows shoot up at the blunt offer he just made. At first you’re not even sure you heard him right, but as you replay his words you realize that you indeed heard him crystal clear.

“Are you messing with me right now?” you ask, feeling like it’s all just a joke. He did not just offer to satisfy you because you complained to him about how bad your date was.

Harry takes a few steps closer to you, a small smirk tugging on his lips.

“Not really. You want to get off and I would love to be the one to help you with it.”

“But… we live together,” you say and realize how stupid this just sounded, but you hope he gets what you were trying to say.

“So? Does that mean we can’t fuck?”

The way he said that makes your legs go weak for sure. You’ve been fantasizing about things similar to this, but those were nowhere near to actually hear him propose the idea of fucking.

“But… it’ll be weird, won’t it?”

“Only if we make it.”

He walks closer, closing the distance between the two of you and he cups your cheek in his hand as his eyes flicker down to your lips.

“Harry…” you breathe out, but you already know you gave in. There’s no way you can say him no, not after weeks of dreaming about the exact same thing.

“Just stop thinking,” he tells you before pressing his lips against yours.

He kisses you hard and you gladly let his tongue push into your mouth within a second, kissing him back with the same passion. You wrap your arms around his neck as his hands travel down on your sides until they reach your ass and they give it a bold squeeze, making you moan into his lips. You feel him grin as his hands move over to your thighs and he urges you to jump and so you do, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Though you keep your eyes closed, kissing him hard, you can tell he brings you to the couch, laying you down to your back, holding himself up above you. He starts kissing down your jawline and neck, sucking and biting on the sensitive skin. His hands grab the hem of your shirt and you lift yourself up a bit so he can pull it off, throwing it away to somewhere behind the couch. While his lips are sucking on your breasts wherever they are bulging out from the lacy bra, his hands work fast on your jeans, undoing the button and the zipper, tugging them down until you can just kick them right off.

“Matching set? You were really counting on having a good time tonight,” he mumbles against your tummy as he kisses his way down on your body.

His right hand reaches up and cups your breast before it slides under you and easily unclasps your bra. You quickly slide the straps off and throw it to the side, so now you are lying under him only in your panties, whimpering and panting at every kiss he leaves on your body.

“What do you want, Y/N?” he hums glancing up at you, sitting between your legs as he slides just one finger over your soaking wet panties, running it along your throbbing center.

“Fuck, I want you,” you breathe out.

“How exactly do you want me?”

“Jesus, just eat me out, Harry!” you shamelessly moan and he smugly smirks before he hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down, throwing it to the ground.

Now you’re lying completely naked in front of him, and he pushes your knees farther apart, looking down at you with lustful eyes.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” he growls as he gets closer and without a warning, he licks into you.

You moan in sensation as he starts sucking on your clit, his tongue working perfectly against your bud. Your hands find their way into his hair and you grab a handful of it in each. Oh, how many times you’ve thought about doing this!

“Harry!” you cry out when you feel him push a finger into you, slowly pumping it in and out a few times before he adds another to it. He quickly picks up his pace as he keeps sucking on your clit, getting you closer to your orgasm with every lick.

“Fuck, I’m so close!” you moan, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you struggle to even breathe.

“Cum for me, baby,” he mumbles against your wet clit and just a few more pumps later you came, screaming his name.

“Fucking hell, Harry!” you breathe out when he climbs up on you smirking.

“You think you can handle another one?” he asks, pecking your lips softly. Looking down you see how hard he is and even if you were on the verge of dying you would have said yes. There’s no way you let him get up from this couch unsatisfied after the orgasm he just gave you.

Instead of saying anything, you push on him until he is sitting on the couch and you have your knees on his sides.

“I think you are a little overdressed, aren’t you?” you ask teasingly as you bring a hand down to his erection, cupping it through his shorts and underwear.

Harry cranes his neck so his lips could meet yours again as he lifts his hips up, pushing his shorts down along with his boxers. You sit back down to his lap and his erection presses against your wet folds making you moan into his mouth.

“Do you want me to suck you off?” you ask breathlessly, but Harry shakes his head.

“I would last, I just want to fuck you,” he growls and you swear to God that was the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

“Condom, we need a condom,” you tell him, still kissing his lips.

You get off him and he quickly runs into his room, shortly returning with a condom between his teeth. He rips the package on his way and falls back to the couch, rolling it on carefully. When he is done you swing your leg over him and get on top again, holding onto his broad shoulders. He grabs the base of his cock and lines himself up to your center and you give yourself a moment to admire his naked beauty right in front of you.

You look into his sparkling eyes and leaning down you kiss him hard as you slowly ease down to his length, his cock slowly filling you up fully.

“Oh fuck!” he moans at the feeling of you around him. His fingers dig deep into your waist as you stay still for a few moments, adjusting to his length. “You alright?” he asks breathlessly. Your eyes meet his and you nod a little before you start moving.

It takes a few moments to find the right pace and get yourself comfortable, but when you finally do, you just can’t stop. His hands are on your ass as he guides your hips a little and you feel the rings on his fingers against your heated skin. He buries his face into your neck nibbling and kissing on the soft skin wherever he reaches.

“Fuck, you look so fucking hot, Y/N,” he grunts when you let your head fall back, feeling your orgasm slowly building up again.

“Harry, I’m gonna cum again,” you pant, picking up a faster pace, desperate for release.

“Cum for me, baby. Let me make you feel good!” he moans wrapping his arms around you as he holds you still, stopping you from moving, but instead he starts thrusting into you, his cock buries so deep into your pussy, your eyes roll back into your head from the feeling.

“Yes! Don’t fucking stop!” you scream as he keeps fucking you hard.

It doesn’t take too long until you fall completely apart and cum again, your legs basically turning into jelly. Just a few thrusts later Harry cums as well, thrusting deep into you a few more times as he moans into your neck.

You lie completely numb on him, his fingers gently stroking your naked back as you try to come back to reality. When you lean back and your eyes meet again you are still speechless.

“I’ve literally wanted it since the day you walked into this place,” he admits with a soft chuckle.

“Really?” you giggle shyly.

“Oh, really. Seeing you around, sometimes without a bra under your shirt completely killed me most of the time.”

Your cheeks are heating up, you didn’t think he noticed when you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Don’t be so shy, you have amazing tits, you are not allowed to wear a bra anymore around here,” he teases you grinning as you laugh and leaning down you kiss him shortly.

“I had quite a few fantasies about you too,” you admit making him raise his eyebrows.

“Really?”

“Mhm, especially after you walked out of the bathroom naked, even though I didn’t even see your dick then.”

Harry chuckles lightly as he pushes his hair back from his forehead, resting his head against the back of the couch.

“So…” you shyly start, ”what now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that… we live together and we just fucked. What does this mean for the future?”

“Well, I thought that next time we could do it the right way. I could take you out on a proper date, and then fuck you on the kitchen counter.”

You laugh at how blunt he is, but you love the idea he just proposed.

“Okay. Sounds fine by me.”

[bcdaily]

jily childhood friends running into each other years later?

Ta-dah! Thank you for the prompt! Now I have to write shorter things, or I’ll never get another done. XD

She knew that hair.

It was a glimpse—a fleeting hint of familiar dark chaotic strands protruding above the multitude of milling heads inside the crowded hotel lobby. Lily stopped where she stood, certain—certain…but that was foolish, surely? It was hair. Billions of people had hair. Even distinctive hair like that. And what would he be doing here, what were the chances…She darted left, slipping through other conference attendees, following the bobbing head of black. Her fingers toyed absently with the lanyard around her neck. Her feet kept moving. She was closing in. But—shit—he was turning into the next doorway. She’d lose him—

“Potter!” she shouted.

The bobbing black head stopped in the doorway threshold. He turned.

Something pulled inside Lily’s chest.

God, it was.

His mouth—an older mouth; familiar features spread across a matured frame, sharper and wider—formed her name. A question. His head tilted.

She squirmed around the last huddled group of conference-goers blocking her path. A middle-aged skeletal bloke shot her an annoyed look as she prodded past him. A server carrying a tray of canapés swerved around her. She wished the tray had been alcohol. She might need it. She wasn’t sure.

James Potter had grown up to be tall. Cresting six feet, easily. His limbs were long, his chest wide, but his hair—that hair—hadn’t changed a bit. Neither had his smile: bright, crooked, with the same infectious delight he’d managed so easily at eleven, now captured just the same in a man of twenty-four.

Twenty-four. They were twenty-four now. She hadn’t seen him in thirteen years.

“Lily Evans,” he said, audibly this time, and the smile grew brighter. “Shit.”

“Shit,” Lily repeated, laughing. Now that there was nowhere to go, no further crowds to weave through, no mop of dark hair to stalk, she was not quite sure what to do. She hadn’t thought past the part of just confirming it was him. Somehow, magically, him. Strange, strange, strange. Now they were standing before each other and—

And he was good-looking.

Had been, back then, at eleven. But that was eleven, and those things didn’t often last. Features shifted. Bodies changed. Conventions came and went at whim. Who could keep up?

James Potter could, apparently.

Not that that was the point. She hadn’t chased him down because he was fit. She could only see his head, for Christ’s sake. She hadn’t known. Not about the height, about the posh specs and the twinkling hazel eyes, about the tanned, sculpted forearms revealed beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down. It wasn’t—

He eyed her, eyeing him. “Do we…hug…or…?”

She snorted. “I don’t know.”

“Reckon I ruined it by asking.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Not as natural now.”

“Yes, quite ruined.”

“Ah, well. Will do better next time. Meet again in another…what’s it been? A decade or so?”

“Thirteen years, by my count.”

“Thirteen? Bloody hell, I can’t wait another thirteen years. I’ll be dead. Let’s just—”

And then somehow he was hugging her, and Lily was laughing again, and her fingers were digging into his back as she clutched him to her.

He had a nice back, James Potter did.

A nice smell, too.

The first boy she’d ever kissed remembered to shower. Lovely.

In the past ten seconds, she’d grown greedy and impetuous. As he pulled away, she darted up on her toes and dropped a hasty kiss to his cheek. Stolen, like a criminal. She was in a hotel lobby filled with barristers, and not a single one could convict her, so stealthy was she.

His fingers trailed down her arm as their bodies detangled. Her skin burned along the path.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, stepping back. She really, really needed to step back. “I mean, it’s good to see you—strange to see you, really, but—you’re a barrister?”

It didn’t fit the James Potter in her head. The boy who’d grown up alongside her, had lived in the sprawling, noble house at the top of the hill, running wild with the lot of them in Cokesworth, until he wasn’t. That boy had certainly had the cleverness and confidence to pull off law, but not the patience or deference to its structures and politics. He would’ve collapsed under the piles of paperwork. He would have crowed agony at the rules, the formalities, the bureaucracy. Had that swotty boarding school his parents’ packed him off to changed him so very much?

James pulled a face. “Fuck me, no. I’m running the catering for the conference. My mum—”

“—owned a restaurant,” Lily recalled, somehow delighted not to have pegged him wrong. She closed her eyes wistfully. “God, that’s right. When you moved, we were all bereft. I think I still smell that eggplant appetizer of hers in my dreams.”

“The caponata?” His grin turned sneaky. “She still has it on the menu.”

“Where?”

“Casa. SoHo.”

Lily had heard of it. To think, James Potter, her childhood friend and mild fixation, just a few tube stops away, for who knew how long. “So you’re in London?”

“Since university,” he confirmed. Then his head tilted, and the sneaky smile turned coy. “So you’re a barrister? In London?”

“Yes.” She waved her conference lanyard like a white flag, surrender. “Wildly disappointed?”

“No. It fits.” Humour weaved through his voice—deeper and cooler now, all grown up. “No one could ever win an argument with you. And I tried. It was fun.”

He’d been a menace. He’d taken such delight from getting a rise out of her. But even as children, talking with him had been addicting. There were so few who could match wits with her, even fewer who didn’t take it personally, who dusted themselves off after a rousing debate and stuck out their hand, a shake of respect for the good time. James Potter had been like that. It’s why she’d cornered him behind a tree in the park where they all used to play, just before his parents had packed up house and he’d left for boarding school. With his back against the tree bark, she’d pressed her lips against his and waited to see what he did with it.

He’d cupped her chin with both of his hands and pressed his lips harder against hers.

It was closed-mouths, mere seconds. A first for both of them.

But to this day, Lily’s knees still went weak when someone held her face.

Silly. Stupid. She talked about work to make the memory go away.

“A bit less fun now. It’s mostly forms and deadlines and”—she waved her hand around the room—“swotty, deadly dull networking conferences. I’m just out of school. I hardly do anything yet.”

“But you’re good at it,” James stated, definitive.

She didn’t bother to hide her preen. Was wary by how much pleasure she took out of his automatic confidence in her. “Yes. I’m very good at it.”

They stared at each other, grinning.

He had a girlfriend. Lily was certain of it. There was no way this man did not have a significant other. Or maybe there was a very good reason, because she knew absolutely nothing about him. She hadn’t seen him in thirteen years. Entire lives were lived in thirteen years. Who knew what kind of person he was now? He could cut a dashing figure, hold a conversation, but maybe he also cut up bodies in his flat for fun. Maybe he bit his toenails. Maybe he liked The Big Bang Theory. Maybe he drank milk straight from the carton and then put it back in the fridge.

“You didn’t grow up ugly, James Potter,” she said.

“I looked you up on Instagram a few times,” he replied immediately. “You never post pictures of yourself. But I like your cat.”

“His name is Bosley.”

“I know.”

Lily squinted at him. “What else do you know?”

Hazel eyes gleamed. “Interesting question.”

James Potter’s hands were much larger now. If he worked with his mum in her restaurant, they were probably rough—calloused from use, nicked with cuts and crevasses from an absent knife or oil burned too hot. Eleven-year-old James’s hands had been cool and soft. This James’s hands wouldn’t be.

Lily quelled a shiver.

“You—”

“James?” A server appeared out of the doorway behind him, looking frazzled. “They left behind a case of champagne. I don’t know how. The quiche is running low, and Darnell is feeling ill. What—”

“Send Darnell home. I’ll—” He let out a dissatisfied hum, glancing at Lily, then back at the server. His lips pulled into a frown. He swept a hand through his hair. “Sorry—”

Lily waved him off, though her spirits sank. “No, don’t be silly. Work calls. Feed the hungry. Go.”

He hesitated, his eyes skimming her. “Will you—we’re just catering the event tonight. Swotty and deadly dull, yeah? So you’ll probably skive as soon as you can.”

“No.” She didn’t have any reason to say it so firmly, so quickly. That was just the way it came out. “Work calls for me too. I’ll be here.”

“Yeah?” The frown righted slowly.

She couldn’t believe how ridiculous she was being. Maybe how ridiculous they were both being. She could be a serial killer, for all he knew. Did he not care for the health and safety of his own pretty little head?

Her plan had been to duck out of this conference opening mixer as soon as was physically possible. They were unbearable. That shouldn’t change.

“Yeah,” she said instead.

She was eleven years old, heart fluttering behind a tree. She was an idiot.

“Good.” His body turned, but he was still looking at her. He nodded and repeated, “Good.”

Lily lifted her hand. “Thanks for the hug. See you in thirteen years?”

He smiled. “Something like that.”

She watched his back as he turned through the doorway, stared at the familiar mop of hair until it disappeared around the next corner.

She pivoted on her heels slowly, feeling silly and prickly.

In her pocket, her phone vibrated. She pulled it out and absently glanced at the screen.

She laughed.

James Potter had requested to follow her on Instagram. And he sent her a message.

You didn’t grow up ugly either, Lily Evans, it read.

She was twenty-four years old, heart fluttering in the middle of a hotel.

She shook her head, and pressed ACCEPT.

[muffindaddystyles]

Tell me you love me, before I go.

A/N: A very short smutty writing I had in my swirling whole night, which unapologetically I ended up writing in the wee hours of dark.

Summary: Harry and Y/N are rivals -- very passive aggressive enemies. When on a mission Y/N breaks into his room he had no choice but to punish her.

AU: Rivals to lovers, dark sci-fi, angry rough sex, spanking and spitting, reassurance kink and unrequited love.

A war between two groups. Left one with nothing but a tech base and other with almost everything. So the Arsonists raid the Phantoms' buildings to steal food items and necessary fuels for their people since they're mostly unarmed due to lack of weapons they try to use their brain as much as possible. 

Y/N works in one of the tech bases of Arsonists and right now she's standing with her five more mates trying to figure out how to break through these large gates of the villain's building, one of his most strong headquarters. 

They've to collect some data before another truck of fuel arrives for Phantoms next Wednesday so they could have access to it without doing much effort. 

Once sneaking in successfully because the two guards were too muddled in gossiping their arsess about their maiden. The building's nothing too extravagant, sleek and able to live, dimmed to an unpleasant light indicating everyone inside it is sleeping. 

She barges into the villain's room easily and almost had all the information in her hands from his drawers when the door to the room banged close, startling her at spot and the frames of her glasses fell on the carpeted floor. 

"Shit." 

"D'ya think cursing would take ye' out of here? if so you're down bad" Her heart sinks in when his cold insensate voice booms within the walls — a heavy boot comes crushing her glasses, again and again mercilessly. 

Her blood boils. Because, what the fuck. Doesn't he have any manners? 

"Do you think I need my glasses to punch the shit out of you, you prick!!" She pounced at him, almost breaking his nose into a splitted eiffel tower but he dodged it, twisting her wrists at her back and snatching the files from her sneering menacingly —- letting her painful grunts fly over his head without any remorse. 

"Well, well." She yelps when he tightens his grip angrily, "Look what cat dragged in come little mousey we're going to have some fun." She didn't know until now that someone could be this strong as he puts her in a chair like a rag doll binding her with no escape out. 

She tries to squirm and wriggle her butt out but he just tuts standing tall and evil in front of her, she rakes her gaze slowly up to his tanned biceps and clavicles popping from underneath his flimsy shirt, matted curls grazing his shoulders. 

"Oh no, trust me sweetheart, you're going to want to stay strapped in here. We're going to find out how many times an Arsonist can break –- and for the fact my people will kill you on the spot if you step out of my room." Shiver runs down her body from fear and he chuckles, flopping onto the edge of his bed, man spreading, leaning onto the heels of his palms behind him. 

"You're pathetic!" She spits out. Full of venom. 

"Pfft, a thief telling me that 'm pathetic." He shakes his head and she's despising his audacity as if he rules the world. She could kick him square in his sexy face but the thing's she's bound to this damn uncomfy chair. 

"Atleast, I don't go on killing people." She grumps and it's like she pushed a button when his irises turn pitch dark. Her eyes widen in astonishment, reeking with fear when he leaves his spot in a thunder striding towards her furiously and drags the chair closer to him, almost lifting it inches above floor. 

The next thing she knows that a gun is resting against her temple ready to be fired, "Ye' really that desperate fo' me to prove it to you, huh?" He growls, hooded gaze following the gun that's sliding down her cheek and the way her breath wavers —- lips trembles, nose twitches he knows he's fucked. 

"Will it hurt?" If she's going to die it better be an easy way. 

His eyes soften at that. Taking in the rosy features of her, the plushiness and squishiness of her skin that his fingers feels like dipping into cream. The women of Phantom aren't like this; they're built differently to fight and kill who wrongs them -- they're almost heartless at this point. 

"Dunno, You'll get to know after taking one." He shrugs like it's not a biggie tipping her chin with the gun's pointer and her eyelids slip shuts. She couldn't cry. Even her dead body wouldn't forgive her if she would cry infront of her worst enemy for the last time. 

"I hate you, Harry. I'd never ever forgive you for kidnapping my cat when we were small." There she said it. If she's gonna die soon she better let it off her chest. Before it could hit him right in the wound he builds a shield fast arguing back with a stoic chuckle. 

"Guilt tripping wouldn't help, darling." He tuts patting her cheek with the gun's barrel —- funny case it's empty of bullets. He just shooted all of them whilst doing target practice. 

"Fuck you." She yells. 

"It'd take much more action than just undressing me naked with your bare eyes." He squeaks dramatically. Stepping away and pouts when she huffs trying to kick her feet in his direction. 

"Not my fault that you're a perv." 

He pouts feigning fake disappointment putting a hand on his chest, "You're such a grudge holder." 

"Think about 10 ways to fuck me until then 'm heading to make amends for you -- see what they offer in return of their precious nerd." He smirks, it's sad such a gorgeous face could be such evil she thinks. 

// 

When he comes back she's fallen asleep from getting tired and exhausted being trapped in the same spot for hours, "Sorry, peaches but they don't want you back –- even told me to kill you if that what it ta —- oooh" He halts in his tracks closing the door behind him quietly not to wake her up and pads softly towards her, putting her dangling head back gently in a comfortable position and tucks a strand of her hair that's tickling her nose behind her ear. 

You're not supposed to act that way with your enemy, you FUCKER. 

His brain screams but his heart says otherwise. 

She has changed. She never cries anymore. Everytime they kidnapped her or she ended up being caught from his henchmen —- she'd always need company to make her feel less frightened from the hollowness of their buildings, would cry when they'd lock her up in dark rooms. 

It's awfully hurtful how once bestfriends turns into rivals just because of a conflict that ruined their and their families lives. 

She has been doing all of this for people who doesn't even care about her. They're using her and many others like her to build a nuclear power plant so they could become intimidating. 

He retires to sleep. Debating in his sleep whether he should just free her and tell her to sleep in one of the rooms of the buildings but soon the possibilities died when he was high in his slumber. 

// 

He groans, knuckling the sleepiness away from his eyes. He woke up from loud the thumping and found Y/N trying to break the door knob, he winces covering his ears when she screams watching him lunge towards her in rush. 

His chocolate curls bouncing atop his head. His emerald eyes speaking with morning's gold and lips ripe like cherry. His brows kinked in annoyance and expression pinched in rage. 

"You're confident." He rasps out in his morning husk and slams his hands on either side of her head trapping, cornering her between him and the wall.

"Did you really think it was going to be this easy." He nothing but purres, pushing her against the door. She gasps abruptly aware of their height differences moreso the radiation of power he daunts that she ignored her whole life. 

"Hmm." He hummed. Eyes black with intimidation burning her under the intensity of it, he keeps his focus on her, smirking. "It suits you. This trying to fight me, desperation is a beautiful look on you." 

"Fuck you." 

"I mean if, ask nicely." His smile is sweetly honey and lethal if you ask me. 

She glares at him with blazing daggers, "This isn't the way you make people love you." Her chest heaving with his heat close to her and his scent enveloping her. 

"Love?" He laughs fondly even, crinkled forming by his eyes and he breathes out when she hovers her dry lips over his's, "Sweet thing this isn't about love — if ye ask me far from that." He's lying. He's full of bullshit. 

"And yet you don't touch me or hurt me." She squints her eyes up at him wrecking her brain how to slip away from his hold, "If you beg so." He simpers awfully lewd for her. Sure as rock for what he said with his whole chest. 

"Come get me then!" She trips him aside and rushes for the door when he pushes her into it tightening his hand around her throat, it's aching him to tell her the truth but he wants to let her know her worth. He rests his forehead against her's muttering a rumble deep within his chest, "They don't want you Y/N." Her windpipes squeezes painfully. The statement punching her lungs. Tears springing in her eyes. 

"You're lying!!" She looks up at him shattered and desperate. 

He caresses his knuckles against her tear stained cheek, "Shh, shh baby I'll always want you even if they don't — " He jerks back when she blows hit at his brawny chest yelling at him. 

"It's because of you!! You, you, you." He sighs. Grabbing her wrists and pining them above her head, "Shut up, please." His chillness irks her more and she nips at him feastly. 

"Make me." So he does. When her eyes drift up at his determined ones it takes her breath away and she knew it was over for her. 

His lips catches her's in a hard kiss, driving them apart with the force of it. Nothing gentle mind mushing about it rather pricking needles into her skin with the severeness of it. She feels the door rattling against her back when he shifts, pushing her against it with his hips, every thought of her exploding into white noise of want and lust. The dark curl of desire twisting in her stomach and pearling sweat on her neck. With the last thread of restraint in herself she tries to pull away. 

"No." He says bringing her lips back to his's. Cupping her cheeks to deepen the kiss and it's ardent as before not loosing it's spark, she slips her hands under his shirt — pulling him closer and the low groan at the back of his throat, a small pleading noise of want sets her skin on fire. 

"Fuck me."  She mewls. Trying to latch on his body like a kitten with it's dainty paws. 

He glides his clammy palms down her bum and grabs her thighs wrapping them around his waist. Not breaking the kiss but tasting ever dulcet corners of her mouth and creating heavenly noises. 

The next thing they know she's crawling back with the help of her bum to settle in the nest of pillows and he's fumbling with his belt buckle quite aggressively, she tugs the hem of his shirt down not satiated enough from having his lips on her and meanders her fingers in his hair to pull at them roughly in order to flush her chest up against his's.

"Never thought your sheets would have smelled other than sex." Because, genuinely. They smell that of fresh mint and roses. 

"So, you think of me doing dirty on this bed you're laying at the moment?" He asks mock and degradation evident in his tone, "D'ya get wet dreamin' 'bout me railin' ye' to death?" He grazes his teeth along her jaw and sucks at her earlobe counting in her silence. 

"Shut up." She gasps, probably from the abrupt press of his bulge against the inside of her thigh. 

"Make me then." He growls. Fisting the hem of her hoodie and pulls it over her head throwing it among his skinny jeans. Her head falls back and lips tremble from the effect of slap he landed at her outer thigh —-- she knows she can't shut him.

Though he knows that her single command and he'd be at his knees for her. 

When she clings to him for dear life and whimpers in his ear softly, his eyes widen in realization and he leans away to watch her expressions diffuse into manifold emotions. His nose scrunches up and he holds back his cooes for her. 

She's a subby. A cute one. 

Her eyes blink open to the sight of him out of his boxers and it waters her mouth —- her mind manipulating her to lunge forward and take his heavy member in her palm to give a good suck to his shiny crimson head. 

Down her throat. Nestle her nose against the trim patch of hair under his balls. 

"Like what y'see, doll?" He highers his chin quite smug about her staring and she hates him for that, "Pretty cocky for someone who likes staring at his enemy's tits." Her voice groggy. She wheezes a squeak through her nose when Harry pulls his shirt over his head revealing toned pecs and abs -- skin sewn with tats. 

Unfortunately, she doesn't get to stare at it for longer when that shirt comes wrapping around her eyes blocking her sight. 

He can never let her have nice things would he?

"Wanted to gag your mouth with it … but I'd rather love hearing you moan fo' daddy." He nips at her collarbones -- sucking it harshly to leave a prominent mark. His calloused hand rubs over her tummy smiling against her skin when she jolts and lets a little squeal slip. 

His cock drips precome at her tummy and her breath shudders into heavy pants when the tip of his cock dipped in her belly button nudging it. 

"Ha —- " He glides his sticky head down her happy trail and slips his large palm into her panties cupping her with his middle finger teasing her entrance, "Couldn't hear you!" He ducks down to put his ear near her lips and drums the pads of his digits against her cheek. 

She huffs and squirms for a second then moans breathily when he spanks the side of her hip leaving a sting, "Oh my god, daddy." His grin victorious and he lowers down to smudge his lips against her parted ones -- kissing her tongue and humming around it. 

She's somewhere it's hard to configure out, in between paradise and wonderland. 

"Tell me princess, what d'I do with you in your filthy dreams?" He grabs her jaw patching gentle pecks against her lips and he slops his finger into her throbbing pussy, "Fuckin' drippin' down ye' bum fo' me." She cries out trying to hook her thigh around him but he hisses slapping her cunt hardly -- turning her into a thrashing mess. She's trying hard to suppress the bitter-sweet sensation of her own body getting out of control and her glistening pussy lips flutter erratically creating sloppy noises. 

She squirts drenching the sheets underneath them and her panties. 

He slides his arm under her arching back pushing her up against his chest with a jerk, "Daddy's askin' you somethin'." He grits, propping his knee in between her thighs to rub it against her soaking centre. 

She gulps, licking her dry lips, "You–your rings … ah!" Her whimpers are muffled against his chest and he twists his thumb in tight circles to smear her wetness from her slit to clitoris, "What 'bout them, doll?" 

How does she tell him she liked what he did earlier. 

"Daddy, please … " She whines blindly searching for his face but he grips her wrists in his one hand and groans, "How's daddy gonna make you feel good when you don't tell him, pet?" He takes a kitten lick of her perky nipple. Teasing her areola with the tip of his cold tongue against her warm sweaty body —- he laps at it hungrily then creates a suckling noises, the noises, his slobbery tongue on her body, his fingers curled inside her pussy and the thick humidity is too overwhelming, she feels like fainting. 

She wants him, inside her needy pussy. 

She can't take the teasing anymore. 

"Spanking! I – I liked it when you did it, please." He kisses her nipple for the last time before smashing his mouth against her's in a fervent sinfulness and parts away with a smooching noise to sit back on his heels, "It wasn't that hard was it? Just a word and I could give you my whole world." The sincerity in his voice makes her want to hug him and kiss him for lifetime but for now he has other plans as he rips her panties away moaning obscenely gruff at the sight of her pussy weeping for him to pound his cock inside her, so ready and full of dripping honeyed wetness  for him. 

"Your safe word is clouds." He whispers in her ear. He knows her limits and her resistance but by any chance he'd cross it he'd never forgive himself, "What's it?" He asks and she says in wavering, "Clouds." 

"Atta girl." He pets her cheek. 

Her nail scratches the side of his hands that are pinning her down when he spits on her already damp cunt, a loud noise resonates along with her needy cries when his free hand adorned in jewels came spanking her pussy and her pelvis remains lifted in air bathing in the sting of metal and the throb rattling in her whole core. 

"This's what you wanted?" He kisses his teeth slapping her slick clit again and again, "To be roughed up by daddy, hmm." She bobs her head squirming and wriggling. Her words struck in her throat. 

"To be manhandled." He hums a growlish moan tasting his own fingers coated in her juices, "I'll show you what being manhandled really feels like." He promises her. She gasps a sweet yelp when he flips her over and throws her bum up.

His cock rubbing against her thigh and her heartbeat fastens, anticipating something, crimping the sheets in her fists and mewls into the mattress when he spanks her ass loving the way it jiggles stroking it afterwards to subside the burn down before landing another brutal one. 

She bolts her eyes shut throwing back her hips at him and he lays all the way over her back pushing her down on the bed, her cum trickling down the inside of her thigh, "Want daddy's cock?" He asks. Slicking the head of his prick up and down her asshole and slit. 

When she nods vigorously he bumps it in furious circles against her swollen bundle of nerves, "Then beg fo' it," He says intimidatingly and she doesn't waste a second before blabbering shamelessly. 

"Daddy … please I want your massive cock inside me, all of it." In her entire lifetime -- she never once uttered these kind of words. 

His heart mushes into a puddle seeing her a babbling mess and grabby hands for him, he kisses her gently speaking to her with foremost affectionate, "shh, shh moppet. You could have it anytime you want it, daddy's g'na fill you to rim with his cum and make you keep it there for hours with his prick still snug inside your little pussy, just made for him, c'mere...yeah just like that." He lays her back gently that her front is facing him now and wraps his hand around her calve raising it and pushing it against her chest firmly.

A series of pornographic moans and whimpers echoes in his bedroom when he seathes inside her slowly stretching her out in by inch leaving a burn behind her pulsating walls, their breath laboured breaths mingling, "Fuck you're so warm baby —-- hugging daddy's cock so good." He whines looking down where they're connected and knotted. His stomach twists and turns, his hips stiffens and he resists from pushing inside her when she's not ready but her milking him with her wetness isn't doing him any mercy too. 

She gropes his ass, nudging him to move and their teeths clanks, temples falls against eachother and lips whisper prayers of their unrequited love when he pulls all the way back to pound back inside her roughly. 

"You're daddy's good girl, making him feel so good. I want to keep you to myself. all of you and cherish you, make love to you, w'na mark you however I want." He groans eyes rolling back under his closed lids grinding his hips against her's in rhythmic pleasuring motions to give her clit stimulations and she cries out feeling another bursting orgasm bubbling in her tummy. 

"'M gonna cum, daddy!" She tugs at his roots and he drives more maniacly inside her, "Squirt around daddy's cock pet, so your pussy could swallow it deeper inside you." The headboard of bed hits against the wall vigorously and she digs her heels deeper into the dimples at his back moaning at the top of her lungs when she gushes all over his dick making more squelching, soapy, dirty noises of him raming inside her. 

She desires for more. 

She has become one little insatiable thing. 

His balls smacks against her bum and his thursts turn faster to chase his high, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He curses nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck and keeps his hand around his throat with the slight pressure of claimation. 

"Come fo' me again." He spanks her ass and she clamps shut down at him pushing him to the edge of ecstasy, "Squeezing me so tight -- gimme more, I know you can princess." Her legs tremble around his waist when she crampies around him and his cock's head strokes against her sweet spot doing wonders to just topple her off real quick. 

"Daddy!" She feels floaty and foggy head coming on his cock for the many times she has forgotten. Her mind blocking out even the weak shuddering whimpers and beaten moans of Harry as he reaches his orgasm unloading inside her -- his cum sticking thickly to her walls and some of it oozing outside of her pussy hole but he pumps it back with lazy strokes. 

He lifts his smushed face from the dip of her neck, his own curls sweaty against the nape of his neck and he smoothes his palms down her sides to calm her, his lips brushing featherly against the corner of her mouth as she keeps on blabbering something. 

When he tries to pull out gently she cries out pawing at his shoulders, "Daddy no!" He caresses her sweaty hair back and gets rid of her blindfold, pecking her nose sweetly. 

He wants to take care of her. He yearned to have her like this for years. He has to bring her back from her sub-space before it's too late. 

"It's no daddy anymore, petal. I'll crush you in this position — " Carefully he tries to retreat but stop when she says in a very dejected feeble voice, bottom lip wobbling and tears springing at the corners of her eyes, "You don't want me too?" OH NO. This's what Harry was afraid about. A breakdown. He saw the storm coming but didn't know it could be this worst right when she's in her sub-space. 

His face pales at that. His state in frenzy and panic. 

"No bubba. I want you my precious girl -- s'just you're gonna get tired like this, hmm. 'N I have so much to show you and make you meet new people -- couldn't have me baby walkin' on her wobbly legs for whole day could I?" He cups her cheeks tenderly and smiles down at her warmly smothering her in devoted kisses. 

"Promise, daddy?" She sniffles staring up at him with doe innocent eyes and he shakes his head, "Harry sweet angel, come back to me moppet." He keeps his gaze locked with her's, gliding his thumb delicately against her cheeks and seals his promise with a kiss. 

"Promise." 

She lets him pull out and he shushes her wrecked whimpers with his lips. Falling to side with a large puff of breather and embraces her with his arm slinged around her shoulders protectively and she hides her face in his chest, mumbling incoherent things and he tries to stay with her emotionally and physically much as possible -- assuring her and soothing her with his sweet nothings. 

"Harry." She whispers softly and his ears perks up at that looking down at her with most loving eyes, "Hi baby." He giggles quietly kissing the tip of her nose and she sniffs cuddling into him. 

"Sorry —- " He shakes his head pinching her chin to make her look up. 

"You don't have to darling -- s'okay, everything's alright." After, making sure she's okay and giving her million re-assurances because he loves to he cleaned her with a damp wash rag. 

"Such a pretty babe." He makes her blush treating her as if she's a china glass doll who'd break at his slightest poke and showers her in praises and kisses because dunno who got her self-esteem and confidence like that but that person sure needs to get punched in their face. 

"Did I hurt you?" He asks tenderly applying a thin layer of cream on her red imprints. She shakes her intervining her fingers into his's one by one and kisses his knuckle, "No." 

"Good." He chuckles as if he was holding his breath. 

"How bout you take a lil nap and I see if I could bring us some brekkie, hmm?" He's gonna break his own rule. Taking food from mess area to your rooms and taking long showers was never allowed, having lights on after 12 because of the risk of attacks. 

"'M not hungry, please stay." Her eyes half open and her face buried into his scented pillow, "Dunno. But to me you look like y'could faint any time soon." He says sternly pulling a snugly clean duvet over her body. 

"Okie but come back quick." 

"Don't worry. In a snap I'll be infront of you." 

//

It's her fourth day here. She came out of his room to socialize just a day before and she realized from the nasty glowers thrown her way that not a single person likes her. 

But it felt like spending a lifespan with Harry. To fill the emptiness of all those moments of their childhood together they lost once after the war. 

She got to know he's the best cuddler and likes to be a small spoon, she loves to jetpack him. He seems rather scary and is scary when he's commanding people off -- they wouldn't dare but to speak a word over him but he's this big softie Y/N likes to squish in their privacy. 

He got her glasses fixed and put them over her nose with a mishevious kiss, she was unable to not to grin when he murmered against her lips, "Now you could punch me with your glasses on." 

"Seems like I don't have to do that anymore." She shrugged squealing afterwards when he threw her over his shoulder tickling her till all she coul see was him and stars. 

It was all going on track until now when she was passing through the lobby to go to Harry who's practicing out in field, "What are you doing here Alex?" She asks angrily grabbing his arm and he tells her feeling relieved she's okay, "I'm here to take you back." 

"But they don't want me back." She grits, he catches her wrist pleading her sadly, "We want you back -- Nia waits for you daily." Nia is his five years daughter. 

"I know that … but — " How she's gonna tell him she's in love with one person they despise with their whole hearts. 

"But what — "

"Alex!!" He was in the midst when she sees a bullet approaching his way from the side of his shoulder and screeches loudly pushing him aside, the bullet makes it's home in her chest. 

It was fired from Harry's gun with his own hands that were loving on her an hour ago. Life drains out of his body and he feels sickness approaching to split his throat, knees turning weak as he stares his shaking hand in horror. 

Before, he could do anything another bullet hits Y/N in shoulder knocking her to floor and this time it was one of his people, the shot was fired on instinct. 

"Put your gun down!!" He shouts at him shoving him away with a single forceful push and strides towards where the love of his life's laying in a pool of blood. 

He pulls his hair maniacly, falling to his knees and pulls her up in his lap cradling her head gently to press his lips against her forehead, "No,no,no,no baby." He sobs wiping his tears away harshly to see her properly. 

"Ouch. It actually hurts." She gives him a frail smile raising her shaky hand to cup his cheek. 

Will it hurt? 

You'll get to know after taking one. 

He wishes he could takes his words back. 

"You'll be fine, you're okay, 'm so so sorry moppet. Didn't-- didn't know y'were standing behind him, bu –-- but s'...s'okay yeah —-- call the doctor!! Why nobody has called him yet!!!" His scream thunders aggressively as everyone watches  their commander this defenceless and vulnerable infront of them for the first time in shock. 

"It's not your fault, okay?" She manages to speak groaning and eyes rolling back from pain residing in her bones torturesly, he cries out like a wounded puppy patting her cheek to keep her awake, "Please stay with me baby, please." Her chest tightens. His chest tightens from the fear of loosing her and he stands up carrying her bridal style tumbling his way on wobbly legs towards the medical ward in the building. 

His tears shiny droplets on her skin and she nuzzles into his fragrance for the last time. 

"There was no happy ending to this," She murmurs. Any, sign of life fading from inside her and replacing her eyes with stoness.

He brings her closer to himself, "hey, hey now none of that -- you're not leaving. 'M not letting you leave." He kicks open the door and lays her limp body on the stretcher. Snapping his head outrageously in every direction to find any doctor but none and drags his palms down his teary face.

He couldn't stop crying.

He's loosing the sunlight of his bleak life he must protect her at all costs.

But, life's prize is something that would have him selling all of what he had worked for and still he'd be unable to even bring her back from cold dark earth.

"Shit. Shit ---– I'll patch you up myself. I know how to take a bullet out — " He creates a ruckus around to collect stuff, "Harry! Harry! listen to me." but her hollow anguish calls for him breaks him at last. 

"How about you spend these last few minutes with me because 'm really 'bout to die commander." She tries to keep her anxious voice cheery but fails drastically coughing blood, "Don't say that baby -- I just got you, don't leave me, don't make me hate myself again." Sad tears trickles down her cheeks and he feels like fainting imagining the pain, agony and fear she's suffering from. 

She's hating to leave him.

"Maybe in afterlife, we could have a nice homely house, long warm baths and two smol kittens —- and oh I forgive you for kidnapping my cat." She admires him for the last time wiping his tears away and tries to lift his head that's lowered into shame. 

She's so fond of him at the moment.

She gulps, trying to gasp for oxygen feeling her heartbeat drop to zero, pleading him, "Tell me you love me before I go." His bloodshot eyes snap to her's and his chest heaves ruggedly with heartbreaking sobs -- his words full of sorrow tasting the bitterness of goodbye on her lips streaking away the blood on her mouth. 

"I love you so much, baby. Never stopped. Never will." She cries at last kissing him back with all the blood she has left pumping to her heart and tries to exchange the words but it was too late before she lost it all -- cold in his loving embrace. 

"Stay…." He begs praying like he did never before. 

"Y/N!!" He screams trying to shake her alive and hugs his angel to himself with mournful wails. 

Everyone standing outside the room knows that they'll never see this Harry again. 

[saturatedboy]

Hai! I have another request ( if it's okay ) can you do a donna x fem pirate reader where Donna is just wondering around with Angie when she found a portal to another dimension that leads to a beach where the reader's ship is alongside the shore then they went to inspect it but ended up being caught by the crew and brought her to the captain of the ship ( which is the reader )

Donna Beneviento X F!Reader

Quick talk, this will be in two parts. I missed some of your idea to keep for the next part because I had ended up getting caught in writing this that I completely forgot to check through the request again. My deepest apologise for that but I promise to have the next part up soon.

Part 2- https://saturatedboy.tumblr.com/post/657437883445166080/donna-beneviento-x-fempiratereader

Requests: Open

Words: 3k

The fragrance of sugar and chocolate had diffused around the small room. Sat back in her chair was none other that Lady Beneviento, Donna. Brining the china cup up to her slightly chapped lips, she sipped the Earl Grey tea and sighed in delight as the steaming liquid ran down into her stomach system. Gently placing her cup down, she looked to the other side of the small round table that was surrounded by nature's plants. At the other end was Angie, the doll, chewing down on some Victorian sponge cake. Donna raised her dainty hand to her lips to hide the small smile that had sketched itself onto her face. Keeping her lips pursed together, she held in the chuckle that threatened to escape from Angie having some icing around her mouth. Pushing the chair out, the metal scraping amongst the wooden floor, Donna had raised herself out from her chair and walked over to Angie, picking up a napkin that was settled in the middle of the table.

Making her way towards Angie, she took the doll's head within her hand and dapped at the white smooth icing that had coated her mouth. "I know you can't feel but please do try to be careful when eating." Donna spoke softly, folding the used napkin up and placing it next to Angie's now finished plate.

"Yeah yeah, I know. But now we have had our afternoon tea, I think it's time for an adventure!" Gliding up from her own chair this time, which was stacked with books so Angie could reach the table when sat, the doll had grabbed it's toymakers hand and whooshed out through the many corridors.

"Angie, I wasn't finished with my drink," The whine came from Donna's mouth, her veil flying behind her unmasked  face as she tried her best to keep up with her doll's quick speed when flying. Angie however completely ignore the cries of Donna and dragged her to he front of the manor by the cloak rack. A stern look had edged its way onto Donna's features as she was still upset about her tea going cold.

"I will make you more after a walk in the woods!" Angie swirled herself around the cloak rack and grabbed a black cloak for Donna to ear. Twirling herself around Donna, Angie placed the cloak on and tied the front into a bow. "There now lets go!" Donna shook her head slowly and flipped her veil over her face, only to follow Angie out of the manor, still wishing she could of finished her cup of tea.

"10 green bottles on a wall...10 GREEN BOTTLES ON A WALL!" Donna mentally screamed in her head as she listened to Angie scream. Although her behaviour would be accepted in the manor, Donna was very against of any attention outside her territory, which to her was mostly the manor.

"Angie, please keep it down a little," She whispered, closing her eyes as she followed the familiar path through her woods. Angie groaned loudly and dropped her arms to place weight onto her float. She let her eyes turns about as she started to spin in the air to give herself entertainment since she wasn't allowed to be loud.

"Spinning I am, spinning indeed." Angie talked to herself as she continued spinning, completely unaware of Donna having her eyes closed behind her veil as she herself was subconsciously following Angie's voice. As Angie was spinning, being unaware of her surroundings, she came connected to a rather large tree that had branches sprouting far and wide. "OW!" She screeched, altering Donna of the sudden pain. Donna opened her eyes and hurried towards Angie who was now sat on the dirt floor looking up at what she knocked into. "WOAH!" She cried out as she was back up floating around the large trunk. "When were you going to tell me you have a huge tree!?" She questioned Donna, circling around the trunk once and gliding towards Donna to settle onto her shoulder.

"I...didn't." Much just like Angie, Donna was also curious about the tree. She knew her territory like the back of her hand and she was more than sure that this tree had just came out of nowhere. Kneeling down onto the slightly soggy dirt, she inspected the large roots that were coted in a slimy orange substance. Dragging a finger through the slime, she fiddled with it between her index and thumb. "How strange, I haven't seen anything like this before."

"Oooooo maybe it's magic!" Angie threw her hands wide, her head doing a full 360 as she wriggled herself about on Donna's shoulder. Donna wiped the substance off her fingers onto the ground, pulling herself back onto her feet as she stared through her black veil at the now growing orange. "Erm Donna, what did you do?" Angie asked, watching as the orange had sprouted its way higher up the tree from the roots, to the trunk and so on, accompanied by a slight rumbling erupting from what sounded like inside the trunk.

"I have no idea Angie!" Shielding herself and Angie with her hands by crouching and hugging Angie close, Donna closed her eyes as the orange glow grew lighter and brighter in colour, changing into a warm white. She felt her body became much warmer as her head began to spin. Not knowing what was going on, she felt the faint touch of breeze brushing through her cloak. Letting herself fall onto her side, Angie still in grasp, Donna curled around and let whatever was going on to happen.

"-off mine. Go scrub the lower decks Decker."

"And why should I! I was only takin' a look!" Donna groaned as she felt the sudden feel of sickness wash over her body. She curled tighter as she felt like her body was swaying side to side. Trying to pride her eye open, she was met with the once darkness she had remember seeing from when she was first experimented on with the Cadou. A deep feeling of fear washed over her

"Because I'm the captain and you don't want to make the Captain angry now do ya boy?" Donna's fear increased at the sound of the voice. It was dripping in venom and threats that even she felt frightened of. The voice wasn't familiar either and the accent was one she hadn't heard before, Donna could've swore she knew everyone from the village, even the small children that had wished to see her to make flowers crowns with her when the festivals would be around.

"No ma'am-"

"Captain Decker. I am your Captain. Now off ye go boy before I get Slasher on ya. Beat it." The noise of heavy footprints had sped past Donna's head as she kept still, trying to keep her breathing to a minable. As far as she was now aware, whoever this captain was should be the only person left with her- wait no. Angie....where was Angie? More heavy footprints has walked past her head but whoever this pair has stopped right next to her head. Donna kept still on her side, not daring to even open her eyes in fear her veil may not be covering her face.

Silence was between all of them.

...

"I know you're awake~" The same voice, the Captain's voice this time was right above her ear making Donna squirm under the heat that came from the mouth. Shaking in anticipation, Donna shot her upper body up and pulled her knees to her chest, feeling small against the new person she has came in contact with. Looking up and keeping her eyes wide, she was in complete utter shock. In front of her stood a rather tall woman. Above average height she would compare her height to. Her hair was knotted, having a large Tricorn hat with a white feather place amongst the small nest of hair. A wide grin with small sharp teeth was scarred on the face of the female. She stood tall, a sword hanging from her hip with a long tail coat in white covered her body mostly with the front being open wide. Underneath the tail coat was a white waist coat, hugging the figure perfectly. White tights were worn with brown boots that reached the knee area. Donna's mind flicked to one word and one word only,

Pirate. Just like in the many stories she had read to Angie in the past. In front of her was a pirate, and a good looking one too in her eye. "Say there lassie, ye a long way from home ain't ya?" She spoke loudly, a chuckle rumbling her chest as she stared down at Donna. Donna was beyond speechless, did she transport world? Pirates were made up stories, they belonged in a book but the tree....the tree.

"Donnaaaaaaa," A satisfied sigh left Donna's mouth as she heard the familiar voice of her partner in crime. Looking around her space trying to find where she was, Donna saw blue the surrounded the scratch wood she was on. Looking back at the female pirate, she saw behind her an upper deck that had led to a steering wheel with a large male behind it with a pipe in his mouth. Looking behind herself, Donna saw the bow of what she now knew to be a ship. A sudden grip wrapped itself around Donna's back, a giggle escaping from whoever it was. "Donna we can be pirates! Oh this is a wonderful adventure!" Angie screamed out, squeezing herself under Donna's left arm to hug her from the front instead. Beneviento looked down at Angie, who now had a small hat on top of her grey veil.

"Angie, oh Angie." Donna huffed out as she hugged her doll close, being glad she was safe and not a single scratch on her.

"Gotta say, she's quite the hyper character ain't she. Pretty tough when up against Slasher as well. My mutt was gonna take a swig at 'er head there" Donna glared at the female pirate, feeling invaded and insulted that she would call Angie out on her character so easily like that.

"And you're just a...just a..." Donna threw her head to look back at Angie failing to come up with an insult to fend Angie's honour.

"Don't mind her, she's just head over heels for cute girls like yourself," Donna flicked Angie's head at her sudden words. Donna was sure she wasn't interested in fictional characters. Donna preferred to be clean, not like a pirate who would stay in the dirt and drink beer till they pass out inly to want a 'good time' when it was for their own personal needs. The thought of even dating a pirate sent shivers up her spine.

"I ain't no cute girl, I prefer the words dare devil or even maybe sexy~" The female flirted back, staring directly at Donna. Donna let go of Angie and stood up, her shy demeanour was long gone. She crossed her arms over her chest and threw her veil up not daring to take such immature behaviour from the other. The other had gasped, but not in shock but rather like she had just found treasure.

"Sexy isn't a word to describe such yourself- gosh I don't even know your name."

The pirate smirked, leaning their arm on the grip of their word as she lightly leaned back on her knee. She licked her teeth and smiled peevishly. "The name's (Y/n), however on the sea 'ere the name's Captain Silver-ring." Donna grimaced at the sudden outtake of the 'Captain Silver-ring's hand. She softly knocked it away from herself with her own hand and tutted, Angie watching from the side lines next to a rather buff dog which had seated itself on top of a barrel.

"I prefer it if you didn't touch me (Y/n). Contact by others isn't something I'm much used to." The quick explanation from Donna had created a head tilt from the Captain. She way beyond confused, what was a lassie doing dressed in full black even doing on her boat. Everyone in the area knew that contact was the only quick way to gain any booty, either by stealing or by taking- totally not the same.

The captain slowly nodded her head, a finger drumming on her cheek. "Okay, so ye on my boat with no thoughts of getting any of me treasure? Who are you working for? The Wooden Boot? Maybe you're a stealer for the Crow's Eye. I always knew she would try take me booty." Angie laughed out-loud drawing the attention of all the sailors on board the ship, even Donna.

"She said booty!" Donna covered her eyes slightly, feeling embarrassed. Her she was, a new world with new people and she may end up dying here. Great...just great.

"So if ye not 'ere to steal me booty, why are you 'ere then?" (Y/n) asked suspiciously as she then began to circle Donna, making her feel smaller than ever. Under the intense glare that (Y/n) gave out, Donna could only whimper slightly until the same light headed feeling came back to her just like before she came to be transported here.

"I don't know, I just somehow got here." Donna mumbled, letting herself drop to her knees with her head hung down. (Y/n) waited and stared at Donna, only getting bright eyes when she signalled everyone off top deck. Hurried feet ran down below, leaving just the captain, Donna, Angie and Slasher on top as night began to roll in.

"I never got ye name," (Y/n) said, kneeling down but keeping distance away from Donna after remembering she didn't like contact.

"I'm lady Beneviento-"

"A LADY! Oh my gosh, Where are my manners." Donna raised a brow as she lifted her head, it swirling around a bit, and watched as (Y/n) bowed.

"My Lady Beneviento-" A quiet gasp came from Donna's mouth. Never in her life was she ever called by 'my'- it was oddly comforting.  "-I am Captain Silver-Ring, name belonged to me mother who used to be the greatest pirate of all times. I am in her place as Captain of the white vessel, I strive to find the treasure she never found."

Angie began to bounce up and down, the sudden energy that surrounded them all made her giddy- especially the loudness of (Y/n)'s voice. "An what is that treasure?!" Angie asked excitedly, seemingly slightly affected by the same feeling of Donna with the light headedness as she would use her hands to steady herself straight.

"Well, it's simple- kinda." Donna waited for an answer, her vision slightly blurring as she looked up at the Captain who was now on two feet. Swinging her sword out, she raised it high as the sunset light had bounced off the silver blade. "And that is to find the perfect woman to be with forever!"

Just like she was hit with cupid's arrow, Donna fell suddenly to the ground and felt the same sickness run over her body. She dropped in temperature as she held tightly onto the cloak that covered her body. Closing her eye, she sucked her lips in and bit on them to keep her mouth shut. She didn't feel like throwing up t the moment, gosh no but the burning sensation building up in her stomach would want to beg her to.

Voices rang about in her mind as she curled once again. Letting ridged breaths out through her nose, she no longer smelt the salt that had clogged her nose when she was on that ship. Instead a smell of pine and mud filled her senses. Staying laying down, Donna waited until she felt like she could move and not throw up. Expecting when she opened her eye to be faced with the cocky smirk of the pirate, she was surprised to find Angie- without a pirate hat- looking down at her. "Looks like we are back home." She said, letting herself glide up into the air.

Donna closed her eye and re-opened it. Indeed this was her home. The smell of the mud was familiar to know. Pushing herself up, light headed still evidence within her mind, she watched as Angie looked behind her. "Ya know, that was quiet the adventure. I think we should do it again tomorrow!" Angie exclaimed as she pointed at something. Following her finger, Donna looked behind herself to realise the tree that had gotten themselves into that mess was still there.

"I think I'll skip." Donna said, letting herself lay in the mud. Angie hovered right over Donna, looking down at her with a smirk.

"Too afraid to face Captain Silver-ring?" She teased, wagging her finger at Donna making fake kissing noises. Donna scrunched up mud in her hand and threw it at Angie who laughed in returned. With slightly rosy cheeks, Donna protested against the idea of seeing the Captain again. "Okay okay...maybe I'll show Lady Dimitrescu the tree! ooo I bet (Y/n) would love her. A lady who loves danger, how perfect their match would be."

For unknown reasons to herself, Donna couldn't help but scoff at the name of Dimitrescu. "You know what, I will go back tomorrow. Not like we have much to do anyway," Donna dragged out, her scowl still on her face. She wouldn't let Dimitrescu see her, oh no. She wouldn't allow it.

She found Captain Silver-Ring first, she shall be the one to see her again. "Is this you saying you love her~"

"Angie love is a strong word, one I'm sure Pirates don't use. I'm only going to gather more information- who knows maybe mother would like this tree." Donna bit her lip after her sentence. "Or- we just keep this tree to ourselves and leave it like that?" She questioned mostly herself but either way, Angie replied with a grin.

"Maybe we could help her find a lover and we could ask for information in return to give to Mother Miranda!"

"Yeah....lets do..that." As Angie floated away back to the Manor clearly excited for the next day, Donna stayed laid in the mud questioning herself. A sudden flash back of the Captain's grin came into her mind making her hit her cheeks. "No no Donna, you are a Lady. She is a Pirate. A really...really- awkwardly nice pirate." Closing her eye, Donna laid there silently enjoying the look of the Pirate in her mind on repeat. How weird- she was enjoying remembering the new Captain. A new world.

Her now favourite adventure.

[hpalways]

Knight’s Flames || Diluc

RED flames flickered from the fireplace, warming up the cozy room with its homely, fresh-cut, wooden smell. The space encompassed of a dark, leather sofa, and curtains drawn in to cover the night skies of Mondstadt. Your eyes dazed and stuck on the flames, the being waved in the air as a ferocious monster waiting to swallow you whole. Shivering under the cover of your wool blanket, you couldn't get the idea of your near death out of your head. 

Yes, while you were traveling around the icy mountains of Dragonspine, you made a terrible decision of swimming across a bank. Nearly drowning from losing stamina, you were most fortunate when Diluc stumbled upon you. Saving you with a quick dive, he brought you home safe and sound. At first, he was dangerously angry at you, his crimson eyes gleaming darkly and ready to pierce you. But he calmed down soon afterwards and was in the kitchen right now, to make a cup of cocoa for you. 

It took him another minute or so, but footsteps soon sounded against the wooden floor. The tall man entered your vision, never failing once to take your breath away. Setting a cup down on the coffee table in front of you, a scarlet, wet lock of hair draped past his shoulder, escaping the ponytail he tied for himself. Changed out of his usual clothes, he wore a baggy, white shirt and dark trousers that you fetched from your father's closet. Being the stubborn ass that he was, it took a moment for you to persuade him to so -- you did not want him to catch a cold by any means. 

He sat down beside you, his weight shifting the balance of the couch. He held his own cup of cocoa on one hand, while his free hand placed on your shoulder. It pulled you towards him, until you were pressed against his warm body. "D-Diluc?" you breathed out, surprised and flustered. Heart pounding against your chest, you couldn't believe what he was doing. 

He wouldn't respond; instead, he took a sip of his drink, staring directly into the fireplace. Was he... worried about you? He wouldn't admit it verbally, but perhaps he wanted to stay close to you because of what he had seen. 

"What are you thinking of right now?" you inquired softly, relaxing your limbs. Deciding to say fuck it, you snuggled into him and cherished the heat he provided. You were still terrified out of your wits from the day's events, but with Diluc here... he was your rock to hold onto, stabling you until you could stand on your own. He truly was like the flames. He was very distant, something you could not actually touch, yet all the same, he was the only source keeping you alive. He was beautiful... and deep down inside, you knew he was caring nonetheless. Him being the Darknight Hero was proof enough. 

"Hot chocolate," he told you. You blinked for a few seconds, expression blank. "You should drink it. It'll help distract you."

Curling your fingers around the mug's handle, you returned to your position beside Diluc. "There. Happy?" you said. Coating your tongue with warm, sweet substance, you swallowed it down. It was very tasty. "If I wanted to be distracted, wouldn't I turn to alcohol though?"

His brows twisted and he looked almost offended. "Are you serious right now?"

You chuckled and leaned your head against his shoulder. "I nearly forgot you hated alcohol."

"It's as though you don't even try to remember," he huffed out. His tone was light and also teasing, but it soon turned a 180. "Your carelessness is always getting in the way of everything. Like today, for instance."

"And here I thought we were trying to distract ourselves," you muttered, letting out a long sigh.

"You still need to be more careful," he argued. In the corner of your eye, you noticed the way his grip tightened around the cup. You lifted your head and turned to look at him. His was also on yours, reflecting the light of the flames, shadows lining his face from how dark the room was. You took in his damp bangs to his lips -- hair that was wet because of you and lips that were pressed upon yours to get the excess water out of your system. 

You swiftly averted your eyes elsewhere, ignoring the flutters that erupted from your stomach. "But I am safe, aren't I? Thanks to you." 

"Yes. Indeed, you are safe. That's all that matters, I suppose," he murmured. He drank the rest of his hot chocolate and returned the empty cup to the table. Now wrapping both arms around you, he tightened his hold and nestled his face into your wet, [h/c] hair. You widened your eyes in surprise, with your heart ready to explode. He was so, so shameless. 

"Remember when we first met?" you said, grinning. Pretending that this position was as normal as it could be, you decided to just go with it. He would be back to his usual self by tomorrow anyway -- it was probably the nerves and distraught that was causing him to be so touchy-feely. "I saw you at the tavern and because you were drinking so much grape juice, I mistaken you to be drinking alcohol. It confused me why you weren't blacked out drunk yet."

He scoffed, clicking his tongue. "And yet you couldn't remember I didn't like alcohol just a moment ago. Also, you're the one who's drinking yourself away. Very irresponsibly too, if I dare say."

"Aw, shut it already," you whined, scowling. 

"Do you happen to have a chess piece board?" 

"Yes, I do," you answered. 

"Would you like to play a round with me then?" he asked, finally unwrapping his arms around yourself. Much to your surprise, rather than feeling relieved to leave his arms, you wished to have him hug you again. He made you feel safe, as if no harm could ever go towards your way again. 

"Sure. But be warned, I've played with my father a good amount and he's a master at it," you told him, curling the corners of your lips up. He cocked a brow upward, prepared to take your declaration of war on. Pulling yourself up from the couch, you arrived at a bookshelf and rifled through the stacks of miscellaneous items. Once achieving the box containing the game, you brushed the specks of dust off and hurried back to the male, who sat himself down on the floor. You lowered yourself as well, putting the game in the middle. 

Since you wished to be white, he was black. Lining the pieces at their assigned spots, the game soon began -- one filled of mostly silence and a lot of deep concentration. Every move counted, your palms growing sweaty to think up of a strategy to take his players out. The hour went by, the side of the board beginning to fill its space up with lost soldiers, coming from each team. The battle ensued and the your brain was getting fried up for thinking so technically, but of course, all things had to come to an end. 

Sending a knight forward, Diluc moved his arm to your queen. The plastic shell echoed loudly against the wood, ringing into your ears. "Checkmate!" he exclaimed, his features beaming excitedly. You had lost... but it was worth it, to see him like this. Not so often did Diluc allow anyone to see him this way. You wished to capture him -- to save the image inside your head forever and relay it over and over again. He noticed your expression and was quick to compose himself. "[Y/N]? Why are you smiling like a fool for?"

"I had a lot fun," you whispered.

He nodded, patting his hair down nervously. "I did too. You weren't lying there. You play a good, mean game of chess."

"You know the knight you used to checkmate my queen?" you pointed out. "That's you. The Darknight hero."

"Oh, don't even start," he groaned, rolling his eyes. You giggled, until eventually he couldn't help but be amused as well. 

The two of you stared at each other with soft smiles and pounding hearts, aligning by the crackle of flames.

[laequiem]

Kiss-proof

/ Jude has lost Cardan in the mall. Of course, he is in the one place she would never go. Domestic fluff, fluffy fluffiest fluff

Fandom: The Folk of The Air

Rating: T for mention of characters having a sex life, but that's it.

The flaw in Cardan's glamour is the same detail that infuriates me when I look at his face when he wakes up: he is impossibly beautiful. Not handsome like a popular actor, not pretty like the members of a boyband. He is absolutely devastating, just as he is as a faerie.

read on ao3 • part of Tales from the Mortal Realm

I check my bulky flip phone for the 5th time.

4:23pm.

I don't know why I expected Cardan to be back on time. I had some errands to do—which might include lingerie I wanted to keep secret until our anniversary—so I told him to explore the mall on his own. I gave him some (real, non-glamoured) money to spend like a child with an allowance.

There are so many red flags with this whole plan.

I do not like to admit it, but I'm worried. My extravagant husband has enough trouble fitting in with humans when he is with me, I can only imagine the trouble he can get himself in without me. Or the trouble that can find him when I am not there to protect him.

I get up from the bench that I had designed as our meeting point. Where could he be? Anywhere I would not go, which does not narrow the list down very much. As I walk around, I can imagine him enjoying every single one of these places.

Cardan smelling some bath bombs and chatting up with a pushy Lush salesperson. All that glitter, all that dye—the servants would rage at having to clean the tub afterwards.

Cardan entering a sterile-looking jewelry store, eyes glittering at all the precious gems.

Cardan browsing Hot Topic, digging into bowls of plastic rings and looking at shirts for bands he does not know.

My stomach drops as I stand before the one store I know I will find him in. Black-and-white striped pillars stand on either side of the storefront and the dreaded white font over black spells out the name of the store: Sephora.

I have never entered a Sephora before. They are intimidating and I know nothing about their products. Whenever I needed new eyeliner, I would just ask Vivi to buy me whichever one she thought was best. Nowadays, I can count on my husband's extensive makeup collection and skills.

“We have servants to do this!” I had insisted the first time he approached me with a kohl pencil. He had laughed, and I let him line my eyes. Ever since, I look forward to it. It’s a small, intimate gesture with which we prove our love to each other without saying a word. It is his way of showing care, and my way of showing trust.

I pass the threshold of the store and I spot him immediately. Even without my True Sight making his glamour ripple when I gaze at him, I would still have a hard time believing he is human. His glamour is perfect—rounded ears, no tail, the glitter of his skin dulled down to a normal healthy shine—but every glamour should have a flaw. The flaw in Cardan's glamour is the same detail that infuriates me when I look at his face when he wakes up: he is impossibly beautiful. Not handsome like a popular actor, not pretty like the members of a boyband. He is absolutely devastating, just as he is as a faerie.

Even amongst gorgeous people who perfected their faces through makeup and good lighting, he stands out.

For me, however, bewilderment comes from seeing Cardan wait in line like a normal person. Like a boy who did not grow up as an entitled prick. It shakes me so much that I stop in my tracks and watch him walk up to the register once the previous client leaves.

He adapts better than I give him credit for. My heart swells with love for this male who keeps challenging and surprising me.

I go to bypass the line and I catch a snippet of his conversation with the boy manning the cash register. On the counter lay piles of makeup, from eyeshadow palettes to colorful eyeliner.

"A good choice!" the cashier exclaims, holding a dark lipstick, "it has the best matte finish. It even passes the kiss test!"

I swear I can see him wiggle his perfectly defined eyebrows. The smile he gives Cardan is wicked—the same kind of grin my husband gives me over dinner then he's feeling particularly hungry.

"The kiss test?" my husband asks, a grin forming on his sinful lips.

"Yeah," the cashier replies, "you can make out with someone, it won't budge. Or transfer."

I get to Cardan’s side and the cashier notices me then. His brows raise in surprise for a moment before he schools his features into a socially acceptable customer service smile.

I can't blame him for his surprise—Cardan and I could not look any more mismatched. His sharp features are accentuated with contouring and a lighter version of his usual silver highlighter. I, on the other hand, barely had time to brush my hair before putting on an oversized hoodie and leggings. I bet I look like someone he took pity on and brought to the mall for a makeover.

"Where is the fun in that?" Cardan looks at me then, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "Still, I suppose I will have to try."

I roll my eyes and he presses a kiss to the top of my head.

The cashier tells Cardan the total, and he raises a brow when my husband starts counting cash. I know other humans use cards nowadays, but without a permanent address in the Mortal Realm, we have been dealing exclusively in cash—mostly given by Vivi in exchange for Elfhame goods.

The boy thanks Cardan for his purchase, and it's all I can do not to laugh when he replies "you're very welcome", like that is a normal thing to say to a retail employee.

On our way out, Cardan stops by one of the many mirrors in the store and applies his new lipstick, ending with a pop of his luscious lips.

"Really? You couldn't wait until we got back to the hotel?"

I smile teasingly at him, and he grins back. The lipstick is deep, dark purple.

"If I did, nobody would see it but you." He slides an arm around my waist and winks. "That would be a shame, when it looks so good."

I roll my eyes and slip out of his embrace, making towards the exit. When my back is turned to him, I allow myself a smile. It does look good, I think, though I won't give him the satisfaction of saying it aloud.

"Jude, wait—"

With those long legs of his, Cardan catches up to me quickly. He puts a hand on my shoulder and spins me around to face him. I lift my chin to look at him, and his expression sends a chill down my spine. This face used to send unwanted images of our younger days to my brain—Cardan spitting on my shoes, pulling my hair, kicking my lunchbox. Nowadays, this wickedness sends my blood rushing south and fills me with memories of his clever fingers and his face between my legs.

"I was not done," he says as he circles my waist again, pulling me towards him sternly. "I have to debunk the claims the boy made."

"Fine," I say, and peck him quickly on the lips.

He chuckles. "You know that won't do, Jude dearest."

Cardan leans towards me. Instinctively, I part my lips and close my eyes. Even after all this time, I hate that he has this effect on me, even though I know it's not fair. I have spent my whole life training with a blade while he spent his training his mind and body to seduce and manipulate.

His lips claim mine and I all but melt into him. I forget where we are, how utterly exposed we are to the judgement of others. I seek out his tongue with mine and bite his lip the way he likes.

Cardan pulls away and I chase after his lips, desperate for more, until I feel his mouth on my neck. Slender fingers grip my chin, angling my head to allow him access.

I open my eyes and finally remember myself, where we are and how inappropriate this is—

"Cardan!"

He hums in question as his cruel mouth continues kissing its way up to my ear. His hand moves back towards my nape and tangles in my hair, pulling lightly.

"We're in—you can't just do that! People are—"

I look around, mortified. The mall is not that crowded, but I see people looking abruptly away when I look in their direction. A mother covers her child's eyes as she notices us. An old lady sneers.

I feel Cardan grin against my skin before dragging his teeth up my ear to nibble at the curved cartilage.

I give a small shove to his chest and he pulls away with a chuckle that curls my toes.

"You're shameless," I say.

"You look like you drank an entire bottle of faerie wine," he replies, then gives a quick kiss to my heating cheek.

When he pulls back, he inspects my face with narrowed eyes, then my neck. He lets out an impressed hum.

"It seems he was right. No marks."

I laugh and his eyes light up, a genuine smile forming on his dark lips.

"Will you buy more, then?" I ask.

"No. I prefer when it leaves marks."

[joaquinwhorres]

Give Thanks (Bucky Barnes x OC)

SUMMARY ››››› Bucky Barnes has a list of names--amends he needs to make. When he gets to M. & L. Kaminski, he finds the amends process a bit more...difficult than it should be. 

WORD COUNT ››››› 1,700-ish

WARNINGS ››››› language

A/N ››››› Oh hey, look at me jumping on that Falcon and the Winter Soldier trend. 

Bucky stood outside of the door, staring at the wreath of brightly colored fabric leaves, a small wooden sign hanging in the center with the words Give Thanks looping across it. 

He doubted there was going to be much thankfulness for him on the other side of the door. 

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

This was supposed to be getting easier. Dr. Raynor told him it would get easier. 

But for someone who hated bullshit so much, she really spent far too much time talking out of her ass. Because this wasn't easy. 

Easy would be surreptitiously wiring a million dollars into each of their bank accounts from the HYDRA accounts he still had access to.

Easy would be taking out anyone who had been involved in the decision to give him the order. 

Easy would be breaking the damn rules. 

The rules aren't meant to make your life easy, James. They're meant to disconnect you from the Winter Soldier. That's the whole point of making amends, isn't it? 

He'd give anything to get her damn voice out of his head. 

Bucky propelled himself up the front porch steps before he could change his mind. Like he had last yesterday. 

He rapped on the front door, accidentally knocking the wreath sideways as he went to pull his hand away. Instinctively, he reached out to right it, centering the sign and taking his hands away slowly to avoid a repeat of the situation. Bucky checked over his shoulder, half expecting Sam's stupid little robot to Zoom into view with Sam cackling and making some dumb quip about metal butterfingers. But Redwing wasn't there. The only other person outside was an old man mowing his lawn in a dingy white undershirt and grey sweatshorts. Bucky's lip curled in disgust before turning back to the door--the sound of locks clicking out of place putting him on alert. 

"Hello?" 

Bucky blinked, his eyes meeting those of the woman before him. Her eyes were striking, pinning him to the spot and pushing all semblance of thought out of his head. They were a light brown--taupe almost, standing out brightly in contrast to her long, full eyelashes. 

"Can I help you?"

Bucky blinked, nodding at her. Right. He was here for a reason. Not to stand like some teenage boy who'd just seen the girl next door for the first time. 

"I'm looking for Mina Kaminski."

"You found her." 

He blanched. "You're Mina Kaminski?" 

The look of vague curiosity that had been gracing features markedly shifted into a look of annoyance. "Believe it or not, people who look like me aren't all named Singh or Patel" 

Fuck this. He needed to get out of here. There was no way he could have this conversation now. 

"Still want to talk to me?" She asked, eyebrows arched and arms folded across her chest. 

No. 

Sam's laughter echoed in his head, as if he'd been here to witness the exchange. And that's why he stayed. Out of spite. 

He nodded. "My name is James "Bucky" Barnes and--"

"Wait a second," she held out a hand and raised an eyebrow on him. He did as she asked, stopping mid-sentence with a sinking feeling in his gut. "Bucky Barnes as in Captain America and Bucky Barnes?"

He nodded, resigned to the fact that this was going to be his worst attempt at amends yet. "Yeah." 

"Well," she breathed, dropping her arms. "If I'd known I was meeting an Avenger at my door, I might have put on some pants." 

His eyes ran down from her face, noticing for the first time that she wore a dressing robe that barely swept the tops of her knees. Her bare knees.

His mouth opened as if he had even the faintest clue how to respond to this and then his jaw moved up and down for a new second as if the motion of talking would bring words. While it didn't muster an apology or some other decent thing to say, he did manage to utter a single word: "Shit."

She snorted at the reaction before smiling for the first time and shaking out her long dark hair, waves tousled together from having probably just woken up. "If you want to come in and wait, I'll go get changed."

He shook his head. "I can wait out here."

She was still smiling. Probably because she realized he was far more pathetic up close. "Suit yourself, but there's eggs inside."

"I'm good," he said, forcing himself to give a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. She nodded, leaving the door open behind her as she disappeared inside the house--as if he'd change his mind.

He should leave right now. Turn around and come back a different day when he could at least function like a mostly human being. Bucky ran a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head. 

The quick, sharp sound of pattering bare feet broke his stream of thought, as another girl came to the door, standing before him with her hands on her hips. "We were having breakfast, you know," the girl announced, her voice dripping with sass. "Now we have to wait until she's done talking to you. And I'm starving." 

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be….not talking to strangers?"

"Shouldn't you be eating breakfast?" she countered.

"It's ten in the morning; I ate already."

"We were supposed to have breakfast an hour ago. But Ravi--"

"Rocio, leave Bucky Barnes alone," Mina's voice called from elsewhere. 

Before he could fully process how odd it was for him to use his name, the little girl's hands dropped from her hips and she stared up at him, mouth agape and eyes comically wide. 

"You're Bucky Barnes?" she asked, her small voice awed. 

He nodded with a deep sigh and another forced smile. 

"What happened to your hair?"

"Got a haircut," he shrugged.

She furrowed her brow at him, her little eyes peering intently at his face. He wasn't sure the last time someone had looked him in the eyes this long. Nobody except Steve had looked him in the eyes since he made it out. The corner of his mouth twitched up. She nodded at him, having composed herself so her little face was serious once more. "I like this better."

"Thanks." He couldn't keep the amusement from his voice. He didn't even really try. 

A thought seemed to hit her, lighting up her whole face with excitement. "Wait right here. Don't move. Promise."  He nodded again and she raised her eyebrows at him, giving him a stern look. 

"I promise," he said, clearly stating each word.

She nodded at him. "Ok. Good." And then she turned and ran into the house, her feet making far more sound than they should for someone of her size.

Mina reappeared shortly thereafter with a faint smile on her lips, dressed in a copper colored sweater and jeans. "Sorry. You're her favorite."

"She's cute." 

What an idiotic thing to say. 

"Wish I could take credit," Mina said, shaking her head. "She's my sister's. I'm just the babysitter on duty."

There were some more sounds of scampering and Rocio was back at the door wearing a long black satin glove, reaching about halfway up her bicep. There were lines streaked across it in gold marker to make it look like it was made of metal plates. 

"I made an arm like yours!" she announced, almost whacking Mina in the stomach as she extended her arm out for him to see. 

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He'd seen Halloween costumes for sale and shirts with one of the sleeves modeled after his arm, and pictures of guys with an arm wrapped in tinfoil. All of them had been with his old arm--his silver one with the red star. The arm that belonged to Him. An arm made to invoke fear. 

This was the arm of a protector. 

She deserved more of a reaction than a small, breathy, "Wow." 

"Will you sign it?" Her eyes got even bigger if possible, and Mina started to shake her head, bending over to talk to the little girl,  but Bucky stopped her. 

"You got a marker?"

"I'll go find one!" Rocio disappeared again, leaving him and Mina alone on the doorstep. She was closer this time, and he could hear her talking to herself and rustling through different drawers. 

Mina turned her attention from her niece back onto Bucky. "So, why is Bucky Barnes on my doorstep?"

"I uh--when does your sister get home?" he asked, eyes focused in the direction of Rocio's sounds. He swallowed, tearing his eyes away and back up to hers. "I should probably tell both of you...together."

The playful amusement that had been on her face disappeared as she stared at him, as if trying to see inside his head. Like she would want to see what was inside of his head. 

"She'll be here around three." 

He nodded, saved from a response by Rocio's re-appearance, waving a silver sharpie in the air. She offered it to him, and he plucked it out of her hand, taking hold of her toothpick of an arm in one hand and signing his name on the inside of her bicep. Where she could hide the signature if she wanted to.

Bucky handed the marker back to her as Rocio held her arm out, trying to catch sight of his name. 

"Rocio," Mina prodded, gently. 

"Thank you!"  she chirped, before turning and literally skipping back inside. "Ravi--look!"

He liked her.

"That was really kind of you," Mina said, warmly. "I think you just made her year." 

He shrugged. 

"Although, I have a feeling that this is all she's going to talk about for the next week," Mina sighed, shaking her head. "Anyway, Leela will be back around three if you want to come back then and share whatever secret serious news is it that you need to tell us together." Her voice was teasing, and Bucky's mouth lifted into a smirk.

"I'll be back then." 

"Great," she smiled politely. "See you then." 

He nodded, wishing her goodbye before turning down the stairs.

So much for getting easier.