#and it’s never absolute yk? it’s always blurred

[strawbebyjam]

nvm again friends i’m overthinking again. but good

[purplecoffee13]

Cross The Line*

Summary: “Harry and Y/N have always had a great professional relationship, all based on one rule; a line they drew the first time they met. But when one day that line accidentally blurs, Harry finds that he doesn’t want it to go back to the way it was…”

Wc: 13k

Tropes: Boss!rry x Secretary!Y/N

Warnings: A LOT of back and forth (this is what Katy Perry wrote hot and cold about), arguing, curse words, smut, dirty talk, degradation, light ch0king, dom/sub dynamics, edging, b0ndage, and recording while… yk🤗

A/N: I’m terribly sorry to have been testing your patience so much the second half of this year, here is a long one shot to say I’m sorry🥲 and I appreciate all of you and I hope you are happy and healthy and will get everything you want in the new year xx💘💘

General Masterlist

HEADER = POV change

Harry's relationship with his secretary is completely normal.

At least, he’s always thought it is.

Sure, it may have seemed more friendly than the usual boss/secretary relationship, but that was only because Y/N was special. She was one of the kind. Smart, stealthy, and sneaky if need be. She did everything he asked for, sometimes before he even realized he should ask her, and was always ready to do more.

Of course, she was attractive as well. Shit, attractive may have even been an understatement. Y/N was drop dead gorgeous and Harry was entirely aware of it. Her ambition made her even sexier, and it's one of the reasons he hired her in the first place.

When Y/N walked through his office door that first time three years ago, he couldn't believe his eyes.

He remembers it like it was yesterday, those wide eyes staring back at him as she froze a couple feet away from him. She was quick to regain herself, though—he had to give her that. But she was nervous as she sat down, even though her movements were calm and the tone of her voice stern. He saw the slightest shake of those hands of her.

Because that job interview hadn't been the first time Harry and Y/N came across each other. It was actually a Halloween party at some high end secretive club in New York one month prior. A night that ended with them hooking up in one of the private lounges.

Even back then, when he never thought he'd see her again, he knew that he would never forget that night, nor the way her face scrunched up as she clenched around him, or the sounds that she made as he drove into her.

He could see that she remembered it as well as she sat across from him that day, but Y/N had quickly made it clear that she was serious about pursuing a career in the film industry. She said she could prove what a great secretary she could be for him, as long as they could put that Halloween night behind them and pretend it never happened. She wouldn't make him regret it, she had told him. He took the chance.

And she had been absolutely right.

Three years had passed and Harry was still thankful to himself for hiring Y/N. She was the best around; fiercely loyal as well. Y/N had been offered jobs by other companies, but she turned down every last one of them. Harry liked to think their relationship played a bit of a part in that as well.

They had become friends—if that's what you could call it—over the years. They had a playful dynamic filled with flirty jokes and random phone calls and favors that blurred that line they had drawn so carefully during Y/N's job interview.

No matter what, Y/N would be the first Harry would call, every time. Whether it was bad business news or a drunken phone call, her number was most likely to be at the top of his last calls. And she always answered, even though she didn't have to. It was a special bond, and while they always danced on it—especially Harry—they never crossed that one line.

Not that Harry needed to. As a matter of a fact, he had quite the adventurous love life. With plenty of people on speed dial and a charming smile that could make anyone's panties drop, Harry wasn't short on romantic escapades. The one thing they all had in common, though, was that it'd never last longer than a few days, and they were rarely ever repeated.

The same couldn't be said for Y/N. In fact, Harry had never seen her with anyone outside of her work, and he never heard her mentioning anything about it...

He didn't know why, but somehow, that thought popped up into his head last Friday as they sat in his office with a drink, celebrating the outstanding reviews that critics had given the newest produced film that was set to premiere next week. Before Harry knew it, he was asking about it.

"Why are you rubbing your temples?" He questioned, watching Y/N massage the side of her head with her eyes closed. He was leaned back in his seat, whiskey in hand as he observed the woman across from him.

"Tension headache." She groaned in response. Despite her grumpiness, Harry couldn't help but grin. What could he say? She was cute when she was grumpy.

"We are literally celebrating, Y/N. What could you possibly be so tense about right now?" He teased, and felt his stomach swirl as a smile painted her lips. She might have rolled her eyes, but she still thought he was funny.

"Oh you have no idea." She mumbled, grabbing her glass and leaning back into her chair. She took a big gulp, her face pulling at the strong taste of the liquor. Harry chuckled.

"You should relax more. Maybe get a hot date to take care of some of that stress for you." He suggested jokingly. Y/N scoffed at the insinuation.

Shaking her head, she said: "I get taken care of just fine, thank you very much."

The equally teasing tone in which she responded caught Harry seriously off guard. Her slight grin pressed down on his chest, and despite having started this joking banter himself, he suddenly didn't find the topic very funny anymore.

"When?"

Y/N locked eyes with her boss. “What?”

"You're here 24/7, when do you even have time to hook up with someone?"

"You know there's this thing called weekends." She joked, but the amusement faded when Harry's mouth didn't even quirk upwards in the slightest bit. It fell quiet for a second or two, and just when Y/N opened her mouth to say something else, someone knocked on the office door.

"Come in."

Harry had said, and soon enough Robin, one of the managers walked in, telling them everyone was going to the pub down the street to celebrate, and if they wanted to come along.

Harry didn't even have the chance to reject the offer—he'd rather spend his nights with his secretary—before Y/N agreed to go along. Feeling obligated, Harry reluctantly gave in as well.

He ended up going home quite early that night, not even properly saying goodbye to Y/N like he normally would before leaving, and he couldn't get the image of her wrapped around another man out of his head the entire ride home. He didn't know why it bothered him so much. Maybe it was the fact that it shouldn't, and more importantly, couldn't bother him, which made it even less bearable.

Whichever reason there may have been for it, he decided to drown out his thoughts by inviting one of his old hook-ups to his house. But even as he drove himself into her as she kept screaming his name, he couldn't stop thinking of Y/N. When she had reached her climax and he began to chase his own high—Harry was caught off guard by Y/N's face flashing through his mind, and extremely embarrassed when those images triggered his orgasm.

The next week is awkward, to say the least. It started out Monday, when Harry could barely look Y/N in the eye. She had received the sudden cold shoulder pretty well, but Harry still felt horrible about it. His attitude got less stiff throughout the week, but it was still bad.

By the time Thursday rolls around again, Harry still hasn't had the chance to get that weird feeling out of his system. So when he approaches his office and spots Y/N behind her desk smiling at him, a wave of guilt washes over him.

He curses himself as he sinks into his desk chair, absentmindedly turning on his laptop. What is he doing? Y/N is his assistant. He shouldn't let his protectiveness of her get the best of him. He does not want to lose her in any way.

Harry flinches when there is a knock on his door. He looks up, finding Y/N standing in his doorway. Immediately, he signals for her to come in. She seems a bit nervous as she nears him, and considering she's never been nervous around him, his heart sinks at the idea that the cold shoulder he's been giving her the other night might have affected her way more than he thought.

He just doesn't know how to behave instead.

"You have a meeting in conference room C in five minutes. It's the banker's son who's been proposing his script for the past year. I  know your schedule is tight, especially with the premiere coming up, but I thought you might as well get it over with." She says, putting a stack of papers on the table that Harry can only assume is the script. He nods, quirking up the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you, smart thinking." The praise falls from his lips in a casual manner, and he doesn't miss the way she physically relaxes at the positive reinforcement. She nods at him, and turns back to the door. Right before she is about to leave the office, she turns around again. Harry leans back in his seat, waiting to hear what she'll say.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped last week." She says, and Harry frowns at the apology.

"What?"

"I clearly said something that ticked you off." She explains,her shoulders slumping slightly. "I know we joke around, but I was afraid that maybe I'd accidentally crossed a line—“

"Y/N, stop it." Harry interrupts her, getting up from his seat. Her lips are locked within a second, and she stares at her boss with wide eyes. His stomach twists at the sight of it. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"But— if I said something inappropriate then I want to apologize for it." She says, straightening her posture again, biting her bottom lip so he won't see it quiver. As if he doesn't know the way her body works. As if he hasn't known for three years.

Putting his hands inside his pockets, Harry walks around his desk and stands in front of her. A little closer than he needs to, and yet not as close he would like.

"Let me ask you this: How many times have you declined booty calls for me?" He asks, tilting his head a bit. A slight smile appears on Y/N's face, and she pretends to think it over.

"Twenty-seven." Her smile crinkles her eyes, making them even more glassy. Harry quite literally feels his hand itch to touch her face, but he keeps it sternly in his pocket. "I kept track so I could count all the reasons you definitely won't get into heaven."

At that, he lets out a snort. Y/N can't help but chuckle too, and slowly but surely the weirdness dissolves from the room. When the laughter has died down, she speaks up again.

"So... we're good?"

"We're good." Harry smiles at his secretary, and his chest heats up when he spots the faint blush that appears on her cheeks. Jesus Christ, did she become even more beautiful than she was yesterday or was he just too stupid to notice earlier? Probably the latter.

"Well in that case you need to leave because your meeting is like, right now." She reminds him, and he hums in agreement as he gets up from his seat and walks towards the door with Y/N.

"Already gone, love." He winks at her, walking out the door with a lot more confidence in his relationship with Y/N. Maybe everything can go back to normal again. Maybe he was just exaggerating when he couldn't get her out of his head this weekend. Perhaps it was just a glitch, a temporary error in his brain that had come and gone in a flash.

That must've been it, he tells himself as he makes his way to conference room C. He takes a deep breath, musters a polite smile, and opens the door to the room. Harry already knows this guy is going to be wasting his time, but he made a promise to hear him out, so he will.

The guy sitting at the table is the stereotypical spoiled rich son. When John Longwell—a long-time business partner of Harry's— asked him to revise his son's script as a favor, Harry told him he'd do it if he ever found the time. He always hoped John's son would lose interest and forget about the script by the time Harry could find a free space in his agenda, but unfortunately that hadn't been the case.

And although the arc of the story had sounded absolutely horrendous— something about zombies fueled by a brainwashing radio song, which didn't even make sense to Harry because zombies don't have brains—he couldn't back out anymore. So he needs to get it over with, starting now.

Harry loudly shuts the door.

The guy—whose name he can't really remember at the moment—flinches and turns around, a big grin on his face as he gets up from his seat.

"Mr. Styles, it's a pleasure to see you." The man says, extending his hand, which Harry, in turn, takes. He only gives a slight nod before heading over to the other side of the table and sitting down.

"So, where's your script?" Harry asks, eyeing the empty table. The guy looks flustered, opening his mouth to say something, but the opening of the door interrupts that. Harry leans back in his seat when he spots his secretary walk through it, not even eyeing the other guy as she struts over to him and lays the printed out script on the glass table.

"Sorry, you forgot this. It was still on your desk." She says, finally turning to the man to throw him an innocent smile. His sheepish grin satisfies her enough to turn back to her boss and focus all her attention on him. "I also forgot to ask you— do you want to move up lunch today?"

The corner of Harry's mouth tugs up. Over the last three years, the concept of 'moving up lunch' has become a code for 'should I get you out of this early?'. Y/N came up with it a long time ago, and it has stuck ever since.

"Yes, I would very much like that. Thank you, Y/N." He says, and the way a smirk slowly creeps onto her face makes the hairs on his body rise.

"It's my pleasure, Mr. Styles." She gives one final nod before walking out of the room and closing the door behind her. Harry would lie if he said he didn't let his eyes fall onto the way her hips moved as she strolled away.

Unfortunately the fun doesn't last long, and with the slam of the door Harry is reminded that he still has to sit through this meeting a little longer. He looks down at the script.

"A Thousand Zombies

By Jason Longwell."

Right, Jason, that was his name.

"Jesus Christ, if that were my secretary I'd have her bent over my desk all day. How do you get any work done?" Jason breathed out, grinning like a stupid fucking schoolboy. Harry quite literally felt the storm cloud that came floating right above his head the second he heard that incompetent loser say those words. His hands balled up into fists at the suggestive comment, knuckles getting whiter by the second.

"Get out." Harry growls. John raises his eyebrows, looking around him as if Harry couldn't have possibly been addressing it to him.

"W— what?" He stumbles.

"I don't do business with insolent idiots. Get out." Harry repeats, getting up from his seat and buttoning his suit jacket. John follows his movements, anger starting to cloud on his face.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" He exclaims in a failed attempt to sound intimidating. At least, Harry assumes that's what he's trying to do.

"I called you an idiot. Now, get the hell out of my face before I boot your sorry ass right to the front door." With one brow raised, he waits as John tries to muster a response until he eventually gives up and storms out of the room. Harry throws the script into the trash as he walks out of the conference room half a minute later. Y/N is immediately by his side.

"That was quick, I didn't even have time to think of an emergency." She jokes as they walk back to Harry's office together. He raises a brow.

"Yes you did. What was it this time? Food poisoning?" He guesses, holding the door to his office open once they've reached it. Y/N grins as she walks past him and takes a seat at one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"Actually, your car was going to get stolen in about five minutes." She responds, the blush of her cheeks revealing the slight embarrassment of having to voice this excuse out loud. Harry's eyes widen as he walks over to his desk, feeling his assistant watching his every move. He quite likes the feeling.

"No way." He laughs. "You just get more creative by the day."

"What can I say, I'm good at crisis management." She shrugs, crossing her legs and getting into a more comfortable position on the chair. Harry tries his best to not let his eyes float to her legs.

"That you are." He murmurs, the huskier sound of his voice giving a different ambiance to the conversation. As Harry feels the mood switch, he curses himself. Why did he have to ruin it?

Y/N clears her throat. "Anyway— why'd the meeting end early?"

"It ended early because Jason Longwell is a sleazy douchebag." He responds shortly, straightening in his seat in an attempt to gain control of the situation again. He can't let himself slip like this again, and she can't know the real reason he kicked out Jason. But there is no denying the sheer rage that boils his blood when that comment flashes through his memory. He hates that the asshole thought he could just speak about Y/N like that.

"Ooh, what did he say when you kicked him out?" Y/N asks eagerly, still in a playful mood. "You did kick him out right?"

"I don't have time to get into this right now. I need to sign those contracts that were sent in yesterday before I go home." Harry says sternly, avoiding eye contact with Y/N as he speaks, but he still sees the slump in her shoulders at his sudden shift in attitude.

"Right, of course." She immediately returns to the responsible secretary she always is, getting up from her seat. He hears her exit the room, heels clacking against the wooden floor. As soon as the door has shut, Harry throws his head back in frustration.

So much for going back to normal.

Playing into the teasing will only rope him further into that forbidden fantasy, and he clearly won't be able to stop himself from resisting her if he does. But he's the one who started all the playfulness, massively screwing himself over he realizes now. If he shifts his behavior, she's always going to think he's mad at her because of something.  But he's going to have to, because Harry can't go back to normal anymore.

Deciding he needs to clear his head, Harry grabs his coat and heads for the elevators without so much as a word. He pretends not to notice the way people's eyes widen when he walks by, suddenly on their best behavior, and although it used to give him an ego boost back when he started, nowadays he just prefers it if people aren't scared of him.

It turns out to be a particularly nice outside for a winter day in London. Not to get it twisted— it's still freakishly cold. It's just that the sun has replaced the endless rain of this entire month. Harry suppresses a chuckle at the irony of the sun finally being out at the very first moment where he's felt so shitty in a long time.

He doesn't know how long he's outside, so he knows it's not fair to be frustrated when he comes back and Y/N isn't at her desk, but he can't help the slight distress that washes over him at the empty seat.

"It's just a date—"

"Your second date!"

Harry creased brows don't do much to hide his feelings when he turns around to see his secretary with a co-worker. The shy smile on her face—accompanied with that blush on her cheeks she always gets when she's secretly giddy about something—disappears at the sight of her boss looking at her like she just killed a puppy.

"Ha— Mr. Styles." She is quick to catch her almost error. Her wide eyes bore into his, filled with confusion and worry. But Harry's frown doesn't give away much, aside. From the fact that he is obviously annoyed.

"I was looking for you." He states stoically, not even acknowledging the employee that is standing next to her. The woman takes the hint and gives Y/N and Harry a small nod before walking away. As soon as she does, Harry turns around and walks towards his own office. He can hear her footsteps following him inside, and with the inconsistent clacking against the floor he can tell she's having a hard time keeping up with his long strides. Still, he doesn't slow his pace.

"I need the papers for the donations printed out and on my desk. And I'll need you to move the meeting with the director of the romance movie to Tuesday evening."

"Yes, of course." The breathy response falls from Y/N's lips the second he finishes his sentence, and by the time he enters his office, she is long gone to do exactly what he asked. Harry shuts the door a little louder than intending to, accidentally shaking the framed artwork on the wall.

Y/N isn't very talkative for the rest of the day, that usual spark of hers seemingly having dimmed. Harry's chest is heavy, knowing his cold attitude was the catalyst for that, but he keeps it up nonetheless. He can't help himself from falling back into it every time he sees her face.

A date. She's going on a date. A second one at that. He can't believe it. Is this who she referred to when she said she gets taken care of? His stomach churns at the possibility.

He tries not to, but Harry still gets warped into the spiral of overthinking about 'date' Y/N has tonight. So much, in fact, that he almost doesn't notice the time flying by until Y/N knocks on his door at 6PM. Harry spots the coat that hangs over her desk chair, and he realizes the work day is over.

"Everything is done for the day and ready for next week. I also sent the papers about the donations with a courier who owed me a favor, so the documents are signed on both parts and the donations will be officially registered by Monday." She explains, hands behind her back. Her new shy behavior—while quite endearing—is excruciating to see. She had always been comfortable around Harry, until now. Until he had to ruin it for the both of them.

"Thank you." Harry gives her a firm nod.

"No problem." She responds a bit awkwardly. "So... I'm going to clock out for the day."

Y/N has already turned around by them time Harry's voice croaks out a 'no'. She whips her head towards her boss, head tilted as she awaited whatever it was that he was going to say.

"I need those contracts for that romance movie." He says before he can even comprehend his words.

"But you won't be negotiating that deal for another two weeks." Y/N retorts, her tone more stern than usual. He can tell she's tired.

"I don't care. I want them on my desk tonight." He holds his head high, despite knowing damn well what he's doing.

He's stalling. Long enough for... he doesn't know actually. For her to cancel her date? It sounds ridiculous now that he really thinks about it.

"Harry, I have an appointment tonight—"

"I said I don't care. I pay you to do as I ask. This is not something you can argue me on." He grumbles. With how Y/N's jaw is clenched, he can't say the same for her attitude. Without another word, she leaves the office.

Harry's worry begins to grow every minute that passes with Y/N out of sight. But when she returns with a stack of papers in her hand after a bit—seven minutes to be exact—that worry evolves into surprise. Walking over to his desk, she plops the papers on them a bit carelessly before speaking up.

"I had them made on Monday because I like to be a few steps ahead." She elaborates. "Now, if that's all, I'm going home."

Y/N doesn't even say goodbye when she grabs her coat and walks to the elevators. Harry sighs to himself, not knowing how the hell he should handle this. It takes him a few seconds before he realizes he really can't do this anymore. He needs to talk to her, if only just to clear the air.

And so, he gets up from his seat and hurries after his assistant.

He catches her just as she walks into an empty elevator, and he joins just before the doors close. Her knitted brows make it clear that she is not in the mood to talk to him.

"I'm sorry... about the documents." Harry confesses, but she doesn't face him. It stays quiet between them for a bit, until the biting sentence falls from Y/N's lips.

"You said we were good."

His heart cracks at her wobbly voice. He can't believe he made her feel this way. If any other person would've brought her to tears, he would've beaten the shit out of them. He reaches for her arm.

"W— we are." He lies. It's the biggest lie he's ever told her, and she knows it, because she immediately turns around.

"No we're not! I said I was sorry if I did something wrong, and you told me it was okay, and now all of a sudden you're being so... cold. I don't understand—" her eyes become glassy. "I don't understand what I did wrong."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Harry opens his mouth, ready to spout out his apologies, when Y/N's phone starts to ring. It takes them out of their little trance, and Y/N fumbles around her jacket for a bit until she's finally found her phone. He can't see who's calling her, but it can't be an expected call if he has to judge by the expression on her face.

"Marco, why are you—" her eyes widen at whatever the voice on the other side of the line is telling her, and Harry subconsciously finds himself leaning in a bit in the hope to find out what's wrong.

"What?" Y/N breathes. Her voice is small, and it sounds defeated, tired. The elevator dings, signaling they're downstairs, but Y/N doesn't move, so Harry doesn't either. She seems to notice and lets out a huff before storming out of the confined space and pacing around the lobby.

"You said we had a green light! That was months ago, Marco! Did you even—" She growls, clutching at her phone so hard Harry is afraid she's going to break it. "You know what, never mind. Give me his number."

The Marco guy seems to say something that he really shouldn't have said, because with the way Y/N's face twists Harry swears he can see steam coming out of her ears

"I don't care that they're not answering, I'll make them answer. Give me their numbers and then go find them." She orders before ending the call. And although the thought really shouldn't be crossing his mind right now, Harry can't help but notice how attractive Y/N is when she's mad. He shakes off the thought, telling himself that's the last thing he should be paying attention to right now.

Y/N paces around one more time, cursing under her breath, before striding past Harry and pushing the elevator buttons like a maniac.

"What's going on?"

Y/N shakes her head. "N— nothing. Just a little hiccup that could've easily been prevented. I won't be long."

Harry raises a skeptical brow, but she doesn't dare to meet his eye. She's lying through her teeth.

"Y/N—"

"Harry, really, it's nothing. I'm taking care of it." She tries to convince him, but he notices the way her hands are slightly trembling. "I'm sorry I was unprofessional. You're my boss. It's my job to take your orders, not question them."

Wait, no.

That aching feeling fills his stomach. His entire body, for that matter. He doesn't want her to be a silent and compliant assistant. That's not why he hired her. He needs someone to push back, to joke around with. Shit— what has he done?

Harry finds himself speechless as she enters the elevator and pushes the button of the seventh floor; the office. His brain isn't fast enough to think of what to say before the doors shut and the elevator ascends.

His feet stay glued to the ground as he ponders, his mind reeling like a rollercoaster. Frustration fills his body to his every finger tip. Everything has gone wrong, and he has no idea how to make it better.

At least ten minutes must've gone by by the time that a concierge taps Harry on the shoulder to ask him if he's okay. Still a bit wary, he nods before excusing himself and leaving the building.

Everything is going wrong.

Leaning over the desk with her face buried between her arms, Y/N is unable to hold back the tears that glide over her cheeks.

First, her boss gets mad at her, and she has no idea why. Then, just when they seemed to be okay again, he changed his attitude up again. And what does she do instead of letting it go? She starts a fight. And now Marco drops a disastrous bomb in her lap that could entirely ruin the movie premiere on Sunday. And if that wasn't enough—and she really thinks it was—this sudden crisis caused her to cancel her date of tonight.

It wasn't anything special, really. Y/N had met Jamie a few weeks ago, and they went out last week. He was a nice guy, handsome too, and she thought he was perfect for a short lived affair. Besides, her vibrator just couldn't live up to her fantasies. She was human, she needed to get off every now and then too. It was like Y/N had this itch in need of scratching, one she hadn't been able to reach in what felt like years.

But that wasn't going to happen now. In fact, she was risking being fired if she didn't solve this problem as soon as possible.

Damn! She really thought she had kept it all together, despite the extreme business this year. She thought she'd done a good job.

But that was a lie, because if she had done a good job, Marco wouldn't have ever gotten into the position where an artist on the soundtrack could manipulate the contract they signed. Y/N had told Marco to make it airtight, already having been suspicious of the artists' integrity from the moment they became part of the soundtrack. She assumed that they would try something.

'Chain' was an up and coming band known for their indie sound, but Y/N would just describe them as two pricks. Not only had they been subtly demeaning to her when Harry met with them, barely acknowledging her existence, they were arrogant as well. They came in expecting a lot more money than Harry and the rest of the company were willing to give them. It was absurd that they expected such a big number, but their cocky attitude didn't fade throughout the meeting.

It was truly a favor to the director, why Harry worked so hard to compromise with Chain. The director had been so passionate about the movie, and he had really wanted the song. If one thing was important to Harry, it's that there went passion onto the projects he produced and invested in. So, he decided to help, and eventually managed to struck a deal with the singers. It was still way above the pay grade they should've got—in Y/N's opinion—but they agreed.

Having seen first hand how greedy those two were, she had told Marco—the guy who handled all the legal documents—to make that contract airtight. She demanded to look it over, but because of her busy schedule, she let Marco have another lawyer look at it before sending the contract.

And now, because of a lazy mistake Chain's lawyer found, they are demanding more money or they'll waive their rights to the music. Something which would be absolutely detrimental because the entire climax of the movie, the cinematography and timing are all tuned to the song.

If she doesn't find a way to solve this problem, this entire premiere could fall apart, and it would all be her fault. She gave the green light to Harry, who gave it to the director. It's all her fault. 

She should've fucking read that contract herself, then this would've never happened.

Between Harry being mad at her, the fact that she was in her luteal phase, and this sudden disaster, the tears began streaming down her face, and the soft crying only turned into full on sobs the more she tries to calm herself down.

She allows herself the mental breakdown, but when she begins to regain control of her breath again after a few minutes, Y/N decides that it's enough. She has a job to get done, and no one was going to swoop in and save her.

So, she starts making call after call, ringing everyone in the immediate vicinity of the two arrogant bastards. It's crucial she reaches them before the night is over. Only forty minutes have passed by the time she is on the seventh person, but it feels like an eternity nonetheless.

She flinches when, while trying to reach Chain's tour manager, the elevator door dings and a shadow nears. Her tense shoulders sink a little bit at the sight of Harry, glad it's not some creep. Her brows crease as she watches him walk towards her. He's carrying a couple of bags with... is that food? It sure smells like it.

When the call goes to voicemail—for the third time—Y/N puts down the phone and gets up from her seat, hurrying over to her boss and stopping him before he could reach her desk.

"What are you doing here?!" She asks, blocking his way. He lifts the bags, a subtle, apologetic smile on his face.

"I brought food—" He looks up at her, and his eyes darken as soon as he takes in her face. "Have you been crying?"

Y/N raises her hands to her face, quickly glancing at the ground while she wipes her cheeks before meeting his eyes again. Harry puts the bags down, and it feels like her heart skips a beat or two when his thumbs stroke the skin under both her eyes. He leaves his hand around her face, cupping her jaw while he stares at her with such a piercing pain in his eyes that it makes Y/N's eyes water altogether again.

"What's wrong?" His voice is soft, and the feel of his big, warm hands holding her is comforting her in a way she hasn't experienced in a quite some time. Y/N only focused on his chest, afraid that the welled up water in her eyes will spill out again the second she looks at her boss. She told herself the crying was over, so why wasn't she able to control herself?

A few seconds pass, and silence runs between the thick air that makes it nearly impossible to breathe normally. Then, Y/N feels the slight pressure of Harry's hands, inching her head upwards. Automatically, her gaze flicks to that of her boss, and when she sees the worry on his face, a tear escapes her eye. His thumb catches it before it has the chance to roll down all the way down her cheek.

"I messed up." She only says, closing her eyes in shame. Harry says nothing, only letting out a sigh as he continues to caress her cheek.

Suddenly, the phone rings. Y/N reluctantly backs away from Harry's touch, and runs over to her desk to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" She says, her voice laced with such desperation that she internally cringes at it.

"Y/N? It's Marco. I found them, they're at a studio just outside the city."

She hums, grabbing a pen. "Give me the address."

"No, I'm going. This is my mess, Y/N, I'm not going to let you clean it up." Marco croaks from the other side of the line, and Y/N feels his voice tug at her heartstrings.

"Marco, listen to me. This is as much my fault as it is yours. I should've read the damn thing and notice the mistake." She replies, leaning over her desk to grab her coat.

"Y/N, I'll take care of it, okay? I found a fault in their loophole, they're stuck. Let me handle this. You just go home and enjoy what's left of your evening I ruined—" Marco tells her. "Wait, didn't you have a date tonight? Oh my god, did I ruin your date?"

"I did... but it's alright. It probably wouldn't have worked out with him anyway." Y/N chuckled awkwardly and glanced towards Harry, who looked weirdly annoyed at what she said.

"I'm so sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you." Marco shares the desperate plea.

"You can make it up to me by giving me the address of the studio." Y/N tells him cheekily.

"Y/N..." he warns.

"What? I promise I'm going home. It's just so I know where you are." She lies. Y/N is a good liar, except in front of Harry. Having a tendency to get nervous, she always betrays herself. She's lucky that this is a phone call, otherwise Marco would've known she wasn't planning on going home at all.

Hesitantly, he gives her the address, which she immediately writes down on her hand.

"Okay, thank you Marco. Good luck." She says, hanging up the phone with a lot more confidence than ten minutes ago. She can feel Harry staring her down as she puts on her coat, clearly waiting for an explanation for this whiplash-like behavior.

"I really have to go."

Harry shrugs. "I'll give you a ride. You can explain everything to me on the way to your house."

Y/N shakes her head, walking towards her boss. "No, really, you don't have to."

"Yes I do." Harry argues.

"You really don't."

"Do you have a problem with me bringing you home, Y/N?" He asks as if he's dumb, as if he doesn't know she's secretly trying to go to that studio.

"No!" She is quick to protest.

"Or does it have anything to do with the address of that mysterious studio you've written on your hand?" He teases, and Y/N clenches her jaw in frustration.

"I just— I need to make sure it's handled." She sputters. Harry shrugs.

"From what I heard it's being handled just fine." He points out. "You've got to learn to let things go sometimes, Y/N."

She shakes her head, looking the floor. "I can't. Not with this."

Harry lowers his head, trying to get on the same eye-level as her and searching for her eyes. "Why not?"

"I told you; I messed up." Her voice quivers as she tells Harry the truth. "There was a mistake in the contract with Chain. Somehow they found a loophole, and now they want more money or they'll waive the rights to their song."

"What?!" Harry growls, exactly like Y/N anticipated he'd react. God, he's going to fire her any moment.

"It's my fault. It was a reference mistake I could've easily spotted if I had taken the time to revise it." She admits, feeling extremely shameful of her lazy actions.

"What are you talking about? This is the legal team's fault, they should've seen that damned mistake! It's not in your job description to revise a contract, it's not your responsibility. It's not your fault, Y/N." He explains. She sucks in a breath, his words hitting her harder than she expected. Heart aching, the one sentence rings in her head.

It's not your fault.

That couldn't be true, could it? She was responsible for this deal, and for Harry. She should've seen this coming, even though she couldn't have possibly known. Did she not always pride herself in having this sixth sense, in being ahead of everyone else? What was she without that? What was she if not the best at the one thing that made her special, that set her apart from the crowd. What was she worth without that invincibility?

"You revise every contract, don't you?"

Her eyes flick towards her boss. She doesn't say anything, but the answer is hidden in her pupils. And it seems Harry can read them like an open book. "How long have you been doing that?"

"Two years." Y/N stammers, her arms crossed as if it will keep her body from revealing whatever her mouth won't. Harry just lets out a breathy chuckle before pulling her into his arms, taking her into a sweet embrace. With his chin leaning on her head, Y/N takes the opportunity to bury her face in his chest, trying not to bask too much in the heavenly scent of his cologne.

"Remind me to give you a raise." He jokes in a soft whisper, earning a sniff of laughter from Y/N.

For a while it seems like everything that tore her down, including what went down between her and Harry, didn't exist anymore. There was just him and her, their embrace and a distant ticking clock, the only indicator of time passing. Yet it felt like the world stopped, or slowed down at least, being in Harry's arms like that. And suddenly, that itch that she hadn't been able to scratch in so long, it felt like it was soothed by a stroking hand instead, and in a way it fulfilled her. It just so happened to be a way she did not expect.

The initial shock at the realization—this puzzle piece that suddenly clicked—made Y/N back away. She clears her throat, fiddling with her hands.

"They're supposed to be at this studio right outside the city. It's only twenty minutes away by car. I just need to be sure." She announces. Harry grabs the bags of food he put down before placing his hand on her lower back and guiding the both of them back to the elevator.

"We'll take my car." He states, and although Y/N can tell by his tone that Harry expects there to be no talking back, but she just can't help herself.

"Harry, I told you I can take a cab." She suggests as they wait for the elevator door to open. Harry doesn't respond as he guides them both into the small space and pushes the button for the ground floor. When the door closes, he turns to her, looking down at her with such an intimidating stare that Y/N feels like she's shrinking.

"And I told you: we're taking my car." He says sternly, his low voice twisting her stomach in an interesting way. When Y/N goes to open her mouth again, Harry lays his finger on her lips. He hums in disapproval, shaking his head.

"I was being clear, right?" He asks rhetorically. His gaze sweeps over her mouth before settling on her eyes again. Not daring to speak another word, let alone breathe, Y/N only nods in response.

"Good." Harry responds, a cocky smirk framing his face as he strolls out of the elevator, leaving Y/N breathless and in a slight trance. Blinking a few times, she comes back to her sense and hurries after her boss.

Richard has always been a master at reading people, and this time is no exception. The second he began driving, he raised the partition, leaving Harry and Y/N with some privacy.

Harry really has a knack for hiring the right people.

The first few minutes of the car ride are silent, and Harry spends it observing Y/N as she picked at her nail beds, frantically looking at of the window as if it would make the car move faster. She has so much tension inside that little body of hers; she is clearly in need of a distraction.

"I think I'm jealous."

Y/N's head whips to him, brows raised at the sudden confession. Her body turns with her, knees now in Harry's direction as she leans back into the seat, getting comfortable as she lays close attention.

"Of me?" She asks, utterly confused. She seems very lost, not really connecting the dots. Harry doesn't blame her; that confession was quite out of the blue.

"Of whoever gets to take care of you."

Pure silence. Harry swears he could hear a pin drop. Y/N stares at him like a deer in headlights, probably having no idea what to say or do or think. She gulps.

"What?" Her voice is so soft that he almost doesn't hear her, but since all his focus is on her, he doesn't miss it. Letting out a breath, he leans forward, placing a hand on her thigh. His face inches closer and closer until their mouths are mere inches away from each other. Checking for her reaction with every small movement, he can't help but notice how she doesn't stray away from him. In fact, she leans in, causing their lips to brush against each other.

"The idea of another man touching you, having you, it makes my fucking blood boil." He says, voice hoarse. Her eyes frantically search every last inch of his face, looking for something she seemingly can't find. Perhaps she's attempting to find the usual playfulness that always accompanies any conversation that blurs that line between them. In that case, she could keep looking forever and ever, because he is dead serious. Fuck how it used to be and fuck whatever's right or wrong.

And most of all, fuck that line, because he's crossing it.

Harry closes the small gap between them, trying to suppress the moan that threatens to work up his throat at the sole feeling of her lips against his. What a fucking idiot he was for ever agreeing to forget about that Halloween night. Not that he ever truly did forget about it. Besides her obvious competencies, hiring Y/N was a way of keeping her where he seemed to like her best from the moment they met; close to him.

With that thought in mind, he wraps his hand around her face and pulls her closer. She complies, clicking her seatbelt free to move further towards Harry when he slips his tongue inside.

Their mouths move against each other like it's both the first time and the hundredth time they've done this. So familiar and yet it's like nothing he ever felt before. A sensation so different from three years ago, one so heavy and laced with a detail his brain can't quite seem to grasp. Deep down, he knows what it is, he just can't quite lay his finger on it.

But his body can, and it does, and so does Y/N's, because her grinding against him is exactly what he needs. His hand sneaks around her neck, lips curling into a smile at the familiarity of the curves of her neck and the identical moan that falls from her lips just as it did three years ago.

Harry groans when the car suddenly stops and Y/N falls forward a little bit, the friction against his trousers being a bit too much to bear at the moment. Slowly, the partition lowers, and without so much looking at them through the mirror, Richard speaks up.

"We've arrived."

Wrong. Harry clearly hasn't.

Before Harry can catch his breath, Y/N can get off his lap, and either one can even answer, the partition rises again. Immediately, Y/N throws her face into Harry's neck.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." She wheezes out in pure, utter shame. Harry shakes his head, a faint grin on his face. He would have been laughing his ass off if he wasn't so painfully hard right now. Instead, he only pats Y/N's back, telling her it's fine. She groans and opens the car door.

"No it's not! God, I will never be able to look him in the eye again!" She says, punching the bridge of her nose. Harry shuts the door and grabs Y/N's waist, pulling her towards him. She stumbles into his chest. He lifts her face with his fingers, forcing her to look up at him.

"You're going to have to, because I don't want to fire him." He jokes, and Y/N bites her lip to keep her smile from growing too wide. Not wanting to give Harry the satisfaction that he made her laugh, she looks to the side, but her face expression falls quickly.

"This is not my apartment." She notes, looking at the huge building next to her. "This is yours."

Harry nods.

"I can't be at your apartment, I have to—" Y/N stops herself before she can say more. But Harry already knew what she was going to say. Playfully, he raises a brow.

"You have to... what?"

"To... I have to—"

"Sneak out to that studio?" He finishes her sentence, and her eyes widen. She tries to regain herself but her cheeks are flushed and there is nothing she can do anymore. He's got her. "Yeah, that's not going to happen."

With that, he places a hand on her lower back and guides her towards his building. She stumbles a bit, but eventually catches onto the pace. But her body language is apprehensive, looking back at the road where Richard is standing. Or well, was standing. Harry ordered him to drive away as soon as they got out of the car.

Still, she turns around in a quick motion, trying to get to a cab. Harry's arm catches her, however, and he pulls her back against his chest. Along with his other hand, he turns her around, catching sight of her big eyes boring into his.

"Don't try me." He speaks slowly, dipping his head down until he finds himself inches away from Y/N. "You know what happens if you try me."

His voice is lower than before, having flipped a switch now that her mouth has been on his. He got a taste for the first time in years, he wasn't going to let her get away now. Y/N's breath hitches, eyes flicking down to his mouth.

Knowing he's got her right where he wants her, Harry pulls back and strolls toward the entrance of his apartment building. Soon enough, he hears those heels behind him and he smirks.

It's silent when they step in the elevator, and for the first few seconds, as Harry leans agains't the wall and observes his secretary, it stays that way. She eyes him a couple of times, her ears getting redder.

"What?" She breathes out, looking down at her body like there must be something wrong if he's looking at her for so long. He simply shrugs.

"Nothing. Just admiring you."

At that, Y/N vigorously shakes her head and crosses her arms. A soft scoff leaves her mouth, one she didn't think Harry would hear, but he did. He takes a few steps towards Y/N, inching her against the wall.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?" He asks sincerely, searching for her eyes. When she finally looks up at him, the nervous smile on her face fades a bit.

Harry doesn't like that look on her face. Needing to fix it, he leans forward and plants his lips on hers again, grabbing her face and pulling her into him. It only takes a matter of seconds before her arms are wrapped around his neck and their bodies are impossibly close to each other again.

Tongues delving deeper into each other's mouth, Harry feels himself floating on some sort of feeling. Despite not being able to define it, he is absolutely positive that he doesn't ever want it to stop. And since kissing Y/N causes this specific feeling, the only feasible option is to never stop kissing her. It's the best plan he's had in ages.

It doesn't take long before the situation gets heated, much like it did before, and Harry's hands trail to Y/N's hips to pull her against him. Desperate for any sort of relief, Harry's hips automatically start to move, and Y/N immediately responds. His body feels like it's on fire, and he tries not to let out any sounds as his strained cock rubs against his tight pants.

Harry takes his lips off Y/N's mouth, peppering kisses to her jaw instead. Slowly, he works his way towards her ear, where he stops to whisper in her ear.

"I'm going to remind you how fucking beautiful you are." The hot breath that left his mouth had her shuddering against him, a slight whine escaping her lips. As he leaves sloppy kisses on Y/N's neck, Harry's free hand slowly travels under her shirt, finding her bra.

She gasps softly when his hand starts to massage her breast, the sensitivity of both spots leaving her hot and bothered under Harry. Fuck, she is so fucking stunning, how did she not see it herself?

Suddenly, the elevator stops, and the door opened. Taking a step back, Harry only winks at Y/N before he turns around and strolls out as if it's a casual Friday. As if he doesn't have his secretary, whom he left high and dry, trailing behind him like a lost puppy.

"Would you like something to drink?" He asks when they enter his home, Harry immediately going into the kitchen.

"Absinthe." Y/N breathes out, leaning over the kitchen island. Harry peeks inside his fridge.

"I only have white wine."

Y/N shrugs. "I'm sure it'll have the same effect if I just keep drinking."

Harry chuckles, grabbing the bottle of wine and placing it on the counter. He walks to a cabinet and takes two wine glasses out of it. Placing one in front of Y/N and the other in front of himself, he opens the bottle and starts pouring, not stopping until the glasses are halfway full. Y/N laughs at the ridiculously full wine glass that he pushes her way, but takes it gladly. He doesn't miss the way her breasts nearly spill out of her top as she leans forward a bit further than intended to in order to grab the glass.

"To the unexpected." She says it like it's a dare. Amused, Harry decides to entertain it, and nods his head.

"To the unexpected."

They raise the glasses before both taking a long sip. Y/N rests her arms on the table, giving a perfect view of her tits right in Harry's frame. She smirks when his eyes accidentally fall on it, and Harry's stomach swirls with excitement. She's trying to play.

"Crazy, how fast life can change, isn't it?" She asks rhetorically, and Harry just hums, waiting patiently for her to reveal what she's trying to do. "I mean, I got up today thinking I'd end the day in another man's bed."

There it is.

She's always been smart, and she knows how to push Harry's buttons. Though his fingers grip the kitchen counter tightly, so much that his knuckles turn white, Harry keeps the corners of his mouth lifted.

"And now you're here." He says, head tilting just a bit. She hums in agreement, taking another sip from her wine.

"Yeah, but just crazy to think that I went into the day thinking I'd hook up with someone else." She tells it so innocently, as if she's mostly talking to herself. Harry's jaw clenches as he stalks around the kitchen island and nears Y/N.

"But you're not, though." Harry notes, falling right into the trap. He knows what she's trying to do but he just can't help himself. He doesn't like the idea of her being with another man. He waits for her answer, hearing his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"I know, but I could have—"

Before the sentence has entirely left Y/N's mouth, Harry's hand flies to her neck. The amused look on Y/N's face tells him enough, but he doesn't care.

"You're not. You're in my bed tonight, and any night after that as far as I'm concerned, so I don't want to hear another fucking word about it."

Her eyes twinkle with amusement as she stares up at him. "You really are jealous."

The corner of his mouth tilts upwards, "And you've gotten feisty over the years."

Y/N bites her bottom lip, humming in agreement to his observation. Harry lets out a soft chuckle, tightening the grip on her neck. Y/N gasps in surprise.

"But do you still like to be put in your place?" He asks, inching his face close to hers. The answer is written in her eyes, and yet Y/N doesn't respond. When it's clear that she won't anytime soon, Harry's free hand sneaks around the waist of her pants. She shivers at the touch.

"Well? Do you?" He repeats himself, and slowly but surely, Y/N nods her head. Harry lets out a disapproving noise. "That's not a proper answer."

Closing her eyes, Y/N lets out a deep breath. "Yes, I like to be put in my place."

"That's what I thought." Harry laughs, taking his hands off of her entirely. She frowns, but her eyes widen when he barks out a demand. "Take off your clothes."

He watches carefully as she follows his orders, and she clearly takes her time stripping down to her underwear. When she has, she looks to him for some sign of approval, but Harry just raises his brows. His hands are sunk into his pockets as Y/N lets out a little breath and takes off her bra and panties.

His eyes trail down her body, his cock hurting at the sight of her. God, she's beautiful. He feels like an absolute idiot for not having fought for her earlier, but he reminds himself that he can't change the past and that she is here now, stark naked in his kitchen. A grin spread across his face.

"Do you remember how you addressed me all those years ago?" He asks. It takes a few seconds before Y/N answers, but she gives him a firm nod.

"I called you sir."

Harry nods. "Rules haven't changed. Now, get on the counter."

Her eyes flick to the marble countertop, shock flashing through her eyes. "But Har—"

His right brow lifts ever so slightly. Catching the hint, Y/N stops herself before she can finish the sentence and hoists herself on to the cold countertop. It must not be very pleasant to lay your naked body on that freezing surface, but it was an uncomfortable temporary obstacle. The results would be great, and in about thirty seconds, she'd forget all about that cold touch against her skin.

Harry pulls out one of the bar stools and sat directly in front of Y/N. Spreading her legs apart, he catches sight of that perfect pussy he has been waiting three years to taste again. Like a starved man sat in front of a feast, the urge to dive right in is almost too strong to bear. But before he has her writhing under him, he wants to make her shiver.

"Can't believe it took us so long to get here." Harry hums, tracing his fingers up her thigh, carefully observing the way Y/N tries to control her breathing. Her fists are balled up into curls, attempting to send her concentration to anything else than Harry. He tries not to let his smugness show too much, but he has to say he likes seeing her struggle a bit. A bit of payback for trying to toy with him just now.

"You've always been stubborn." Y/N jokes, a gasp strangling out of her when Harry's fingers ghost over her clit. He chuckles, the tone of his voice so low that it could almost be considered evil.

"If I remember correctly, you're the one who wanted to forget about that Halloween night." He notes. Y/N hums.

"I also made the condition to act professionally, but we didn't do that either." Her eyes gaze into his, catching the fond smile with which he stares at her. A faint blush erupts on her cheeks.

"You drew the line." Harry retorted, and Y/N scoffed.

"You crossed it about a hundred times." She argues in response. He only hums, that cocky smirk on his face.

"I did, and consider this hundredth and first time to be the last, because I'm not getting behind that line again."

Y/N has never been so turned on her in her entire life. Harry’s words are the epitome of determination, and the way his fingers slip inside her so easily the second he finishes his sentence only solidifies that notion. The gasp that leaves her mouth is cut short and evolves into a low moan as Harry’s lips latch onto her clit.

Sensitive would be an understatement for her current state. She is aching, and the way Harry is ravishing her almost hurt. But any pain dwells in comparison to her desire she was overcome with at the situation she currently finds herself in. She is on Harry's kitchen counter, legs spread wide open and letting him do all the things that slipped into her dreams over the past three years.

Harry sucks in all the ways that made her squirm, moving his fingers with such ease that made it seem like he has fingered her a thousand times already. As if he knows her like the back of his hand, as if he knows all her secrets, even ones she doesn't know herself.

Y/N's hand buries itself in Harry's hair when he begins to kitten lick her clit, and she feels that inevitable climax inching closer and closer. She wonders how she had been able to keep herself composed for so long, because the high that creeps up on her feels like it was long overdue.

Unfortunately, the sensation comes to a grinding halt when Harry backs away from Y/N. Her head shoots up, and finds him leaning over her body, wearing boyish half-smile that is now glimmering with her juices.

Wrapping one arm around her waist and the other one under her legs, he picks her up bridal style. She holds onto his shoulders, burying her face into his neck as he carried her to his bedroom. When she begins unbuttoning his shirt, he throws her on his bed. She lets out a soft yelp, bouncing onto the bed.

"So greedy..." Harry tuts in disapproval, but Y/N doesn't quite care. She wants him, bad, and now that she's had a preview of what's to come she doesn't want to wait any longer. She needs him and she needs that orgasm.

She pulls him closer by his pants and starts to unbuckle his belt. "You're taking too long."

Y/N is about halfway done when Harry's firm hand wraps around her neck and pulls her closer to his face. Inching down, he growls: "You'll take what I give you."

"Then give me something." She spits back, and Harry's eyes turn five shades darker at her invitation to a challenge. He slowly leans back, Y/N watching his every movement in anticipation.

"On your stomach."

Y/N stomach swirls at the command, and she obeys as quick as she can. It stays silent for a little bit, and she awaits his further actions eagerly.

"Hands behind your back."

Again, she does what he says. Y/N doesn't dare to turn her head as she hears Harry walking around his room. When she feels a silky material around her wrists, she knows enough. He's tying her up.

Knowing better than to do otherwise, Y/N keeps her mouth shuts as Harry makes an impenetrable knot with his tie. She moves her wrists, assessing how tight it really is, and gets interrupted by a punishing slap on her ass. The sting remains for a couple of seconds, and she is sure there is now a red print the size of Harry's hand on her right cheek.

"Ass up." He barks out his final order, no doubt smirking as she changes her position, slightly struggling now that her arms are of no use.

Y/N bites her lip in anticipation when Harry's hand grabs onto her hips, steadying himself behind her. She slightly flinches forward when the tip of his cock teases her entrance, and attempts to speed up the process by leaning backwards a bit. She's rewarded with another slap on her ass.

But then Harry finally sinks in, and that dreadful itch that plagued Y/N for such a long time is finally scratched, over and over again as he begins to pound into her with long, slow strokes.

"Fucking hell..." Harry murmurs, his cock suctioning into Y/N's tight, clenching pussy. He is so big, and it bruises her in all the right ways.

"Oh baby... thaaat's it." He groans when Y/N begins to bounce back on his cock, aiming to get it even deeper inside of her. She is ruthless in her movements, groaning at the overwhelming sensations. When Harry gropes her ass— and his nails bite into her skin—she loses control.

Burying her face into the mattress, Y/N screams as she reaches her peak. The sound of Harry's moans at her pussy convulsing around his cock only strengthens her orgasm. Her mind goes entirely blank as the shattering release ripples through her like an earthquake. The only thing she can think of is Harry's name, and it's the only thing she cries out as the dizzying explosion settles all over her body.

"You really are desperate, aren't you?" Harry sneers as he pulls his cock out of Y/N, letting go of her hips. She nearly falls over, her tied up hands making it difficult to catch herself. This orgasm was so intense, she could feel the three years of pent up tension as it washed over her. Her cheeks are burning red and her teary eyes makes her vision somewhat blurry.

Y/N is thrown off when Harry suddenly turns her around and she finds herself lying on her back. The way he towers over her would have been intimidating had it not been extremely hot.

"Came on my cock so fast..." he mumbles cockily, corner of his mouth pulled up like the arrogant bastard he is. "Such a slut for it."

Y/N wants to give him some snappy comeback, but her brain is still fried from the orgasm and she's always liked to be degraded in bed, so she decides to only glare at Harry while he speaks. He catches it, and his grin only widens.

"You know it's true, baby." He tells her, bringing your legs over each of his shoulders. That deviant smirk is the last thing Y/N sees before her eyes roll into the back of her head at the feeling of Harry's cock stretching her out again.

He leans forward, almost folding her in two, and reaches deeper. He stays there for a few seconds—as if he is catching his breath—then slowly backs out of her before slamming right back in. Y/N lets out a screech that, if it hadn't been for the desperation laced in its tone, would've sounded like someone was trying to murder her.

Trying to keep her own moans at a minimum, Y/N closes her eyes and listens to the harsh slaps of Harry's skin against hers, and the groans that escape his mouth with each thrust. The strength behind each movement makes her clench around Harry, who in turn hisses her name as if it were a curse word. It only causes her to clench more. 

"Fuck, such a pretty little whore." Harry praises as he drives into her. Y/N can only whine, her tits bouncing uncontrollably at the impact of his motions. She must look fucking helpless. Opening her eyes, she catches the way Harry looks at her; like she's a dream. Like she's his dream.

"My pretty little whore." He growls, leaning back and holding one of her legs with his arm while the other reaches for her breasts.

"Yes..." Y/N breathes as he begins squeezing her breasts, getting lost in the sensations of him. Somehow it feels like Harry is everywhere. As if he has latched onto a part of her soul and she feels him coming to claim that every time his cock sinks into her.

"Such a tight fucking fit." He groans, taking her nipple between his fingers. "You should see how perfectly your pussy sucks in every inch of my cock..."

Y/N bites her lip as Harry talks, trying not too get too overwhelmed by the filthy things he's telling her as he plunges in and out of her. Her eyes catch the flex of his muscles that occur with every thrust, and she wonders how she got a man so perfect to fuck her stupid like this.

"Should record it... make a little video for just the two of us. What do you think?"

Oh my god.

"Don't you want to see how perfect we fit together?" He taunts, thrusting his hips harsher than before, hitting a spot that had been untouched for quite a while now. Y/N's face scrunches up.

"F—fuck! Yes, yes..." She responds when Harry stills inside of her to await an answer. He chuckles at the apparent hurry in her voice and reaches for—what Y/N assumes to be—his phone, on the bed. His motions are slow and soft, determined to keep Y/N satisfied at least a bit while he logs into his phone and searches for the camera app. She notices the start of his recording by the sudden change of pace and force of his movements.

His camera is pointed right at her pussy as he begins thrusting deep inside of her, and Y/N screams out Harry's name. The concentration on his face as he captures how she takes him proves too much to bear, and she shuts her eyes tightly, head flopping to the side.

She can hear his ragged breathing over all the other sounds that their bodies are making. The small grunts he makes in an effort not to moan too loudly is all she can focus on, and the tension in her belly grows exponentially with each vibrations of his voice that reaches her ears.

Harry slows his pace, putting more emphasis on the impact of his moves. It allows him to bring his free hand down to touch Y/N's clit. Her legs begin to shake the second he does.

"Are you gonna come again for me? I'm so close, baby. I can tell you are too." The softness in the delivery of his words have Y/N's ovaries rattle. She can only nod, a whine that was an attempt at a 'yes' falling from her rosy lips. Harry grins, his eyes flicking from his phone to her face. Everything feels so hazy, much like a daydream.

"Please don't stop." She squeals in such a high pitch that surprises even herself. Y/N had no idea she could go that high. Harry's bringing out an entirely new side of her.

"I'll never stop, baby." Harry rasps, pressing down on her clit in such a way that Y/N becomes cross-eyed for a second. Her nails grip into the bedsheets, the second release rippling through her like a hurricane. She never quite understood the word bliss, until now. This must be it; this feeling of... pure ecstasy.

Like a blank canvas splattered on with all the bright colors that exist in the world; fresh and exciting and psychedelic in a way. Impossible to define yet such a specific feeling. Y/N let all of it tingle from her head down to her toes, wanting to remember it forever.

The continuous pounding Y/N through her orgasm comes to a grinding halt when Harry reaches his own, pulling out just in time for his sperm to coat her puffy clit and swollen tits. His camera is focused on her frame, recording every spurt that paints her. She's the canvas, he's the colors, Y/N realizes. Harry is her definition of bliss.

The words shared between the two are scarce as Harry unties Y/N's hands, picks her up and carries her to the bathroom to clean her up. But the smiles on their faces says enough, both knowing what they feel is rare, and beautiful. Y/N assesses Harry's face, concluding that the soft edges of it makes him look like a proper angel.

When he's dressed her in one of his shirts, he takes her back to the bedroom, where he pulls her against his frame. Y/N wraps one leg around his torso, hugging him from the side with her head buried into his neck. The way his chest rises and lowers fills her with pure ease, and she leaves a few soft kisses in his neck as a silent thank you. Harry only hums in satisfaction, his arm only tightening around you, as if he's afraid you might let go.

"I'm never gonna let you go now." You tell him before you can even fully comprehend your words. Your heart starts racing, afraid that might've been too soon to say.

"Promise?"

Your racing heart is now melting as you turn your head and see Harry holding up his pinky. You are quick to interlock it with your own.

"Promise." You say with a smile.

General taglist: @mema10

[bunniekittiee]

Bi-Han x Fem. Reader

A little sad tbh but like yk i try to give good endings. Also Bi-Han is mean asf but it is just due to their circumstances so beware you might want to punch him in the face. Also this is not proofread so any errors you see, just ignore.

The amount of tears shed for Bi-Han was outrageous. His actions could be absolutely deplorable. When they first married, she thought that there was a chance he would not be so cruel, but he had made it clear that their marriage was for power rather than true love. It hurt, it hurt her little heart and it made her cry during the lonely nights when her thoughts got to her. She had lots of thoughts of whether she was good enough for Bi-Han or if they would ever love each other. She had already loved him, but he did not give her the same energy back. It was futile.

“Wife,” Bi-Han said to her as he entered the room. “Join us for dinner, now.” There were so softness behind his words, but she bit back her increasing emotions. “Yes, Grandmaster.” She said back after she swallowed the built up saliva in her throat. He waited for her to get up and join him so they could walk to the dining room together. Kuai Liang and Tomas sat there together, waiting patiently as they greeted her with a smile.

Sitting down carefully, they started their usual traditions before eating their food. It was a little quiet with only Tomas and Kuai Liang speaking at first with Bi-Han chiming in when he wanted to. The brothers tried to include Bi-Han’s wife into their conversations, but she was quiet. They wondered if it was part of her personality or if it was because Bi-Han was sitting next to her. Watching her every movement.

That was, until Bi-Han and Tomas began to argue, well, more so Bi-Han arguing while Tomas sat there and Kuai Liang tried to play mediator. It made dinner extremely tense.

“You do not have Lin Kuei blood.” Bi-Han spat at Tomas who only gave him a look of ‘what’s new’. “So your words are pointless.”

“Bi-Han.” Kuai Liang said in a warning-like tone. “Do not ruin dinner with your bicker.”

“And you stay out of it, little brother. Do not stick your nose in something that does not concern you.” Bi-Han kept going. It was like he was here to just ruin their day.

“Bi-Han,” she said softly. “Let’s just enjoy dinner.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I do not expect anything less from you, incompetent girl.”

She felt her heart beat fast and her ears feel warm. Whether it was out of embarrassment or a flood of emotions coming, she looked down and tried to control her breathing. She did not want to cry in front of them. She could not show weakness.

“Bi-Han, maybe you should be a little nicer?” Tomas suggested which Kuai Liang shot him a look of ‘stop making it worse for yourself’.

The Grandmaster swiveled his head to meet Tomas’ gaze. “Silence you fool. Your words have no meaning, you are not one of us. You could hardly ever hold a marriage together, just like you could not hold your parents together.”

“Bi-Han!” Kuai Liang hissed.

She felt herself snap. “Grandmaster, you need to leave him alone!” Her voice cracked as she stood up and looked at Bi-Han. “You are cruel and cold. You treat your brothers so horribly. How can one even appreciate you when you are so disrespectful?” Tears brimmed her eyes and her vision blurred.

Tomas was taken aback. He had never been stood up for like this, especially with an outburst. Kuai Liang always tried to be peaceful, but she was different.

Bi-Han’s face scrunched in irritation and annoyance. “If you are going to be emotional, then leave us to our own devices. We can finish dinner without you weeping all over the food.”

Her eyebrows furrowed as more tears fell. “You are sick, Bi-Han. No wonder no one would marry you, you are barbaric.”

“Your insults do not affect me. Stop wasting your breath and leave.” He continued to dig his knife into her heart.

She turned away from the table, storming off and leaving the dining room to retreat to the bathroom in order to let herself cry. As she left, she heard Kuai’s sharp tone and Bi-Han’s rising voice begin to argue but her blood was pounding in her ears. Sobs wracked her body as she curled into a ball on the large, cool bathroom. Bi-Han’s words cut deeply, and as much as she thought she could be overreacting, nothing eased the pain in her heart.

How could one be so mean to his brother like that? Whether they were not related by blood or not, it did not matter. Tomas was one of them. He deserved the respect he never got, especially from the Grandmaster.

There was a quiet knock at the door and she sniffled, wiping her swollen eyes as she sat up. She heard a muffled voice. “It is Tomas, please open the door.”

A little reluctant, she opened the door as she continued to wipe away her tears. Tomas looked at her guiltily. “Please do not cry, it is not your fault.”

“He is mean to you, Tomas.” She said as she felt more tears coming. “You are his brother no matter what. You deserve much more respect.”

Tomas sighed. “It is okay, little sister. It is not your battle to fight. I hate to see you so emotional over me.”

She started to cry again, but this time Tomas hugged her. “It is okay, I am okay. I have learned to ignore Bi-Han’s words. They will not falter my attitude.”

This did not ease her heart. Just as Bi-Han’s words cut into her, his words to Tomas did just as much damage. “He is too cruel to you, Tomas. You are lovely and always so generous. You do not deserve it.” She whispered into his shoulder. Tomas heard her words and felt himself smile. No matter what she cared for him.

Embracing her for a few more minutes, Tomas offered to take her out of the home for a little bit to give herself space away from Bi-Han. Tomas knew he would not exactly apologize for his words or actions, especially when he felt very little for the woman he married. It was only for business reasons rather than true love. Tomas and Kuai saw the love she felt for Bi-Han, but they could not say the same for their brother.

Bi-Han never had a so-called filter. He spoke what he truthfully felt no matter how harsh it would sound coming out of his mouth. His brothers were adjusted to this, but his wife was not. He did not understand, or maybe he did not care, that she would be extremely wounded mentally with every rude remark he made.

This sadly happened a night when Bi-Han came to their living quarters in a horrific mood.

“How was your day, Bi-Han?” She asked him as they got ready for bed. He ignored her which made her feel unwelcome, but she tried not to let it affect her deeply. “I am sorry for asking.”

“Stop speaking for once with your incessant mumbling.” He said grimacing. “You do not need to fill the air with your annoying questions.”

The same feelings she had felt many times before begin to crawl their way through her body. “I apologize, Grandmaster.”

“Stop apologizing. Be better.” He replied. “Or is that too much to expect from you?” He never seemed to know when to stop.

“Do not say mean things because you are upset.” She retorted back. She was afraid of his reaction as she already started to feel the overwhelming emotions of weeping.

“It is the truth. You seem to be more annoying when you are nervous or trying to be nice.” He said with a frown. “I have never met anyone as annoying as you.”

She felt the tears begin to flow out of her eyes as she got up from their bed. She did not want to speak so he did not know that she was crying. “Are you going to cry like a baby? How old are you? Why are you like this? If I had known you would be this way, I would have not married you in the first place.”

Night gown flowing behind her, she quickly left their living quarters as she was once again crying her eyes out. His words ached. How much could she take before she could not anymore?

He did not follow her out. Whether it was because he was too prideful or he did not see anything wrong with what he said, he did not make an effort.

She made her way to Kuai Liang’s living quarters. He and Tomas were enjoying a quick cup a tea when they heard the weak knocks at Kuai’s door. They knew it was not Bi-Han.

“Little sister,” Kuai said warmly as he opened the door. He then noticed her shaking form and her tear stained face. “Are you okay?”

She cried more when he asked that question. That question seemed to make her feel so much worse. So vulnerable. Kuai Liang brought her inside of his room and closed the door. Tomas got to his feet fast as he approached her. “Oh no.”

It was hard to speak, but she did her best recalling her and Bi-Han’s argument. Kuai Liang looked concerned, eyebrows knitted as he shook his head when she told them what Bi-Han said to her. Tomas frowned and felt his heart squeeze at Bi-Han’s cruelty.

“I will never understand him.” Kuai said as he gently rubbed her back. “He has such an important person in his life, yet this is the way he acts.”

Tomas made her a small cup of tea and coaxed her to drink as she cuddled into a blanket he draped over her. Kuai Liang’s hands warmed against her skin. “He is not one to understand. His actions in general do not have an explanation.”

“It does not make it any more fair. He hurts the one person who loves him unconditionally. Many of us Lin Kuei do not have that opportunity.” Kuai replied. He sighed. “Bi-Han has always been rude as a child. We are used to it because we grew up together, but you, I do not expect you to be used to it or even deal with it in the first place.”

She chuckled with sadness and despair. “I have to deal with it. He does not understand. He chooses to not understand. It is he who I married, and as much as I love him, the hurt I feel consumes me everyday. He does not ease it. It hurts very much.”

They felt their own hearts splinter at her words. The fact that she had to go through this did not make them feel good. They wanted Bi-Han to be better for her. That is what she deserves.

“You need rest, a lot of it. You can sleep here with me, and Tomas may even join us.” Kuai said with a small smile as Tomas nodded.

It felt a little weird to be sleeping in the same room as the brothers because of how adjusted she was to sleeping with just Bi-Han or herself, but Kuai gave her the mattress while he and Tomas took the floor. She felt guilty and tried to argue with Kuai Liang, but he only shushed her and made her lay down to sleep.

When she woke up in the morning, Kuai Liang and Tomas were gone. She assumed it was for their duties. Sighing quietly, she got up from the mattress and made up the bed before she left. She had her own duties to attend to, but she needed to look presentable.

Leaving Kuai’s chambers, she first went to the bathroom to bathe and get ready. Her eyes were extremely swollen, and she could feel the sadness come back once more. How could Bi-Han be so mean? Even with his tough exterior, she could not comprehend why or how he could be so mean to her or his brothers. Soaking a wash cloth, she gently laid it over her eyes so the swelling could go down. She knew it would not fully help her broken blood vessels on her eyes and the swelling, but it would suffice.

Meeting Bi-Han in the morning was a little angering for the brothers. When they looked at him, all they could see was his wife crying into Tomas while Kuai rubbed her back. They could hear her cries and whimpers as her body shook with every harsh inhale she took. They knew Bi-Han was cruel, but to his wife? It bothered with Kuai Liang’s heart because of how he could not picture himself doing that to Harumi. But he and Bi-Han were very different in personality, so they were bound to be different in how they loved.

“What has your minds clouded?” Bi-Han asked sharply. He crossed his arms as he saw the dazed but fiery look in his brothers’ eyes.

Kuai shook his head. “It is nothing, brother.”

“If it’s about that weeping willow, I will personally throw you into the river myself.” Bi-Han muttered. Kuai’s eyes narrowed. “Forgive me, but elaborate.”

Bi-Han rolled his eyes. “My wife does not need to come to you for her problems. I can handle them myself.”

“Unless you are the one creating them for her.” Kuai replied. “You are rude to her, Bi-Han.”

“I only married her for the clan’s sake. I do not love such a feeble woman like her.” Bi-Han spat. “Her emotions control her. That is not like the Lin Kuei. She needs to grow tougher skin.”

Kuai felt his frustration burn. “You need to take it easy on her. She is not a man, brother. She is not adjusted like we are.”

“Who are you to stick up for my wife?” Bi-Han was now face-to-face with Kuai Liang. It was an intimidation tactic. “It is none of your concern.”

“I’m sticking up for her because she has difficulty doing so.” Kuai replied with hints of irritation. Tomas watched silently as his brothers fought. “You only have the opportunity to know the very few special people that come into your life, and when they are gone, they are gone for good. Appreciate what you have. One day, she will not be here any longer. And all she will remember you by is your cruelty.” Kuai turned away from Bi-Han and walked off with Tomas not too far behind him. Bi-Han watched in anger as he felt the tip of his ears pink with frustration and shame. To be told such a thing by his brother, someone lower than him, was embarrassing. Who was he to tell him how to be a husband? Kuai Liang was not married himself.

Bi-Han stayed away from his brothers and dove into his duties and plans, only interacting with Sektor and Cyrax. His mood was extremely dampened, and he continued to snap on Sektor and Cyrax who were beginning to become fed up with his behavior. They kept their mouths shut, but they exchanged irritated glances when Bi-Han was not looking. He was being eaten alive by Kuai Liang’s words and his actions. It was rather humiliating for a Grandmaster to be checked by his own brother.

It was dinner time and the men gathered around the table to eat. However, Bi-Han’s wife did not join them. Maybe it was from a mistake of before. Once they did their traditional business before eating a meal, Kuai Liang looked at Bi-Han. “I apologize for my outburst earlier, brother. I still stand by what I said, but I apologize for humiliating you.”

Bi-Han’s lips were pulled into a straight line. “Just eat, Kuai Liang.” This was the closest Kuai would get to a simple acceptance, but Bi-Han was still fuming. Dinner was tense and awkward, and the brothers wanted nothing more than to get away from Bi-Han’s presence.

Still in a bad mood, Bi-Han finished dinner and went to his living quarters where his wife lay reading a book. Clenching his jaw, he closed the door. “Stop going to my brothers for our problems. It is between a husband and his wife, not his brothers.” He said with a snarky tone.

She set her book down. “I had nowhere else to go, Bi-Han.”

“You could have stayed with me and dealt with your problems. When you married me, you married the clan and I. But that does not mean you need to include my brothers in your drama.” He fought back.

She felt her heart rate increase and her emotions choke her throat. “It is none of your business who I go to for moral support.”

“It is when it is my family and they cause issues for myself because of it.” He snapped. “Why don’t you think of your decisions, you stupid girl. It is not that difficult to grasp. Stop telling Kuai Liang and Tomas about our marital problems.”

“Then stop being so mean to me like you are now!” She replied angrily. “You always call me unnecessary names. You like to put me down. I am already low as it is since I married you!”

“It is not my fault that your father wanted to better his status of his clan.” His eyes narrowed and he approached closer to her. “It is not my fault that you have fallen in love with me. You knew from the start that our marriage was not based around love. It has always been based around business, and that is the way it will stay. I will never love you, and that is the truth.”

Sadness was not enough to describe it. Her bottom lip trembled as she felt herself break right in front of Bi-Han. She cried quietly at first, until she got a little bit louder. Her breathing was uneven, Bi-Han almost a little concerned if she was breathing well. His face fell, tilting his head as he watched her cry. Something in him made him feel bad. Worse than bad. Like he was a monster. She shied away from his touch, moving her body away as if he was poisonous to touch. He stiffened as her crying became worse. It was as if she was going to get sick.

“You need to let me take you to the bathroom.” Bi-Han said as he reached another hand out, yet she moved back from it. It was beginning to frustrate him, but there was nothing he could do. “Please let me do what I need to do.”

Her mind was frazzled as she felt all of her pain flow out of her. Bi-Han was eventually able to grab her wrist and help her up onto her feet, guiding her to the wash room. Bile was building up in her throat as she felt the weird sensation of throwing up. Bi-Han was able to put her on her knees and grab a bucket, putting it in front of her. “If you need to get sick, use this.”

Her breathing was choppy, her hands uncovering her face slightly and he was able to get a glimpse of her red face. He felt guilty. He knew that she was emotional, but to this extent? He was unknown to it. He rubbed circles on her back as she did eventually get sick. He held her hair back too and stayed quiet while she emptied her stomach. All of this because of what he had told her. He truly felt like a monster. He was now beginning to understand Kuai Liang’s outburst.

Once she started to quiet, only her hiccuping could be heard, he frowned. “I… I am truly sorry. I really am.”

She did not reply as she hardly looked at him. It still hurt. A ‘sorry’ was like a band aid on a wound that needed stitches. Looking at Bi-Han would make her break all over again.

He sighed as he took a washcloth and wiped her mouth from any residue, throwing it to the side and picking her up bridal style. “To bed.”

She could not argue with him, she felt exhausted and her head was thumping crazily. Her red-rimmed eyes were so swollen, it looked like she was squinting at everything. Her nose was still red along with her cheeks. Bi-Han laid her down and crawled into bed after her, reluctantly yet gently pushing a few hairs back off her forehead. “I am sorry. I did not know it was to this extent.”

Silence was all he got back. He understood that he did not deserve any words. He caused this, and it was his job to pick the pieces back up. Even if he did not love her, he could not let his wife deal with it by herself. He had already done it before. Hearing her breathing slow down, he held her close to his body. The guilt wracked him. He felt terrible for what he had done. Kuai’s words echoed in his head.

‘You only have the opportunity to know the very few special people that come into your life, and when they are gone, they are gone for good. Appreciate what you have’.

He thought of his mother. She was a special person in his life. She adored Bi-Han, she loved him, she took care of him. She was there for him when his father would push him to his limits and he would pass out from exhaustion. She was there when he received the ability to control ice. She was there for a lot until her death.

But after she had passed, he had no one else to do that for him. Until his wife came into his life. Whether it was for business or not, she still made sure to take care of him after he came home from fighting. Cleaning and stitching his wounds up. She took care of him similar to how his mother did.

He looked down at his wife’s sleeping form in his arms. He now felt ashamed. So ashamed he almost wanted to leave her to sleep by herself away from him, but he decided that he needed to be there. It was for her own good. He closed his eyes and lulled himself to sleep.

Bi-Han was gone the next morning when she awoke which was not a surprise to her. She rubbed her face gently, careful to not irritate her skin much more. Her crying had already done that enough.

She looked at the side table and was a little taken aback. There were flowers on the table. She assumed they were from Bi-Han. She carefully picked them up and inhaled their scent, sighing quietly to herself. She saw a note and picked that up as well. She read it carefully.

“Dear wife,

I have duties to attend to, but I apologize for my behavior towards you. An apology may not be enough for the harm I have caused. Truly, I am sorry. Kuai Liang has opened my eyes, and I witnessed first hand how my attitude and words affect you. I will be better for you. That is what you deserve. Please rest and relax, I will check in every so often.

Sincerely,

Bi-Han”

She felt her eyes water as she read the note over and over. It felt foreign to hear such vulnerability from Bi-Han, but she was somewhat glad to know that he realized how much his words can hurt. She hoped that he would stick to his word and truly improve. His words still stung, but she would take the time to heal and move on. That, she was sure of.

[bambisnc]

might as well

thinking about you and eunseok being the absolute epitome of an It Couple™; quite literally everyone wants to be you (or yk, .. with you)

but little do all your adoring fans and shippers know that your perfect relationship is in fact, fake.

i see it as having started out with you struggling to try to get over a close friend (maybe sungchan) who ended up indirectly rejected you without you even having confessed

something like “yo jinsu, you and y/n are a thing right?” “y/n? ah no, she’s like a sister to me! <3”

and eunseok ending up being your annoying knight in shining armor.. he’d console you and eventually also propose the idea of fake dating just to let sungchan see what he’s missing out on 

but somewhere along the path of "drafting out a set of rules to follow while fake dating" and being increasingly publicly affectionate with each other (“you guys are dating?? Prove it.”) (but also fleeting touches behind closed doors 🫣); you would find yourself being more and more confused by the blurring lines of your arrangement

eunseok‘s always had an especially flirty personality towards you but it’s only ever increased since you started “dating” and the cheesy pick up lines have started having a much greater effect on you than they should be

obviously he only fuels this uncertainty of yours,, for sure would be super vocal about his real feelings, would never miss a single chance to try to shoot his shot + keeps dropping hints about how you should just tell him you love him for real, you guys are basically a real couple at this point.. it’s basically fate if you think about it; so you might as well let him be your official boyfriend <3

(ALSO imagine this but in a royal setting.. rival prince!seokie  in an arranged, fake relationship with you hhhhh deserves a whole fic ngl)

notes : im hvaing a couple of thoughts + [m.list] song rec : might as well - wayv [GIVE ME THAT SOTY CMON NOW]

𐙚 . regulars : @nicholasluvbot @totheseok @mellowdyverse @fae-renjun ⋆

[icannot3]

"Prom Night"

Peter Maximoff x Reader

Word count: 4.2k (a biggie, sorry)

Warnings/notes: NSFW BELOW THE CUT (just the standard stuff, yk?) P in V penetration. Oral (male receiving). Lots of plot before. Despite the title, both Peter and the reader are adults.

Taglist: @taintandviolent @lilthbunny (comment if you'd like to be added!)

..........

The music is loud, and the atmosphere radiates unadulterated exultation. Like any other traditional party event, bright neon lights illuminate the otherwise dimmed area. The dining hall of the institution looked nothing like it had before. The entire area had been cleared out besides the tables full of delectable treats to snack on in the corner. Students were laughing and dancing to the beat of the music, most very uncoordinated, but that didn't matter. For the first time ever, the young mutants got the chance to feel like normal teenagers. It brought you so much joy to know that it was your idea to have an annual prom at the school, this being the very first and very successful attempt at doing so.

You could see a few students of yours beginning to come out of their shells. Many of them never got the chance to participate in such a social setting. You can tell they felt moderately awkward at the start but slowly allowed themselves to enjoy. This prom was much different than the ones you attended in high school. You always remember them to be boring but customary, hence why everyone still went for the hell of it. Part of you wished you could have had a lively experience like this one, knowing all too well how different you felt in the crowd then, as a secret mutant scared of what others may do if they knew.

But that's all in the past, and truly you could not be happier as chaperone. In the crowd of people, you see bodies being pushed to the side as an undetectable figure zipps past them. You know it's Peter, one, because obviously his powers, and two, because the blur is quickly making its way to the snack bar. Who else would be so desperate to get to them? You giggle at his determined feat. It isn't long before he runs up to you, a plate with a large, overstacked assortment of cake and cookies in hand.

Peter places his free hand on your back, his hand warm against it. "Geez, you look like a supermodel!" Like any school dance, everyone was expected to dress to the nines. All funded by the Professor through the kindness of his very rich heart. The staff is expected to wear nothing short of this, everyone in expensive formal gowns to match the children. Peter's outfit makes him look exceptionally handsome, even though he's already loosened his silver tie sloppily from around his neck. Other than that, his suit is black with a white undershirt that compliments his silver accents. To be real, the color is his trademark. Quite literally, "Quicksilver."

You pull him into a hug he reciprocates as much as he can with only one arm. "Thanks, Quicky. You clean up nicely, too!" Your finger comes below his tie, playfully flicking it upwards to tease him. "You seem like you're already excited for the after party?"

His head jerks back, and Peter lets out a dramatic sigh. "You have no idea how uncomfortable these feel. Sure, women have to wear heels, but I really think that this is the equal evil we should also acknowledge. Plus, you guys get to shamelessly take them off at the dance because everyone understands. Xavier is absolutely insane for wearing this every day." He continues to passionately ramble about the inconvenience, referring to it as "neck prison." You cackle at everything he says because it's Peter. He's naturally always funny. Or perhaps it's your blossoming feelings for him that make you feel this way.

Sometimes, you wonder if Peter is just naturally a touchy person or if there's something more behind his lingering nudges and holds. You certainly entertain it regardless, allowing him to hug and hold you as he pleases. His fingers are delicately playing with the stray hairs against your neck, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He has to know how crazy he drives you.

The timing feels perfect as a slow song comes on through the loud speakers. You silently prayed to whatever DJ God there may be for giving such a great opportunity. You hold his hand in yours, his plate being disregarded elsewhere as you take him to the dancefloor. "You gotta dance with me, I never got to do this with anyone in high school! Please?" Your request accidentally seems more like a demand with your excitement, but he knows you'd never make him do anything he doesn't want. He grins, keeping your hand in his own and wrapping his arm around your waist before swaying to the music.

You're friends. That's all. There's nothing more to it, and there never will be. You conclude that you'd simply have to die with these feelings because certainly they aren't ever going away. It's been years already that you've pined for him. Years that the two of you have been stuck by some imaginary friendship glue. Many of your days are together, you teach gym class with him. When you go on missions, Peter compliments your mutations so well that it's rare you're ever separated. He's what you would call your platonic soul mate.

But that platonic bit feels really out of place when he gives you a look that makes your heart ache. You decide that looking at his eyes that are staring deeply into your own is not helping subside your confidential feelings. Part of you wants to read more into his actions and convince yourself that he feels the same way, but you know that only leads to a shit-ton of misery once you realize that his feelings are still unrequited. So, instead, you rest your forehead against his chest and think about things that don't make you flustered. Like what you're doing tomorrow for training and not how his new cologne for the occasion smells stupidly nice.

The song picks up the beat for the chorus, and either Peter secretly takes dance classes on the low, or he's just naturally this smooth. His hand lifts yours up in the air as he encourages you to twirl. You do, the dress you wear swaying around with your spinning. He brings you back to his chest and then decides to continue to baffle you by dipping you to the floor. You lean back, trusting him fully as he pulls you back up.

By the time the song is over, the two of you are laughing, and you feel as if you can't breathe. "Didn't know you had that in you, Maxipad." The nickname is from an inside joke that you remind him of because it embarrasses him. You used it in hopes that it would make your own pitifully flustered state less noticeable.

"Please, all of those arcades I played Dance Evolution at growing up had me ready." He made his way back to his snack stash, grabbing a cookie. "Even though I was more of a Pin-ball guy. I still have record scores at the arcade in the town I grew up in."

You steal a cookie off of his plate, the bitter-sweet chocolate delight melting on your tastebuds. "You still need to show me what an arcade is like. Maybe we could hit that one." Previously, you had a conversation where you revealed that you've never been to an arcade in the past, which left Peter deeply offended. He vowed to take you to one soon, but the two of you as of lately had found yourselves so busy there was simply never a time.

"Damnit! You're right." His expression of distraught quickly changed to that of a happy one with an idea. "There's an arcade machine in my room I can introduce you to! I mean, it's nowhere near as fun as the entire arcade experience, but-"

"- That sounds perfect, Peter." You didn't even have to be convinced.

You stayed at the dance until it ended for another hour, and Peter seemed to be rather eager to get back, considering the cleaning was going to be a group effort with all of the teachers; but he took the initiative to do it all himself instead of waiting and finished it all within a minute. Not that anyone was complaining, though. It was well past midnight, and class would still be resumed tomorrow at the normal crack-ass of dawn. Any sane person would pass up Peter's offer and reschedule for another time. But not you, you were so unimaginably happy to get invited to his room that the offer still remained as good as gold.

He sped you to his room, and it was everything you expected. For a man almost in his thirties, his decor resembles that of a teenage boy. This ranges from posters, snacks, and scattered piles of clothes on the floor. You can sense his immediate panic due to him not preparing for your presence. Frantically, he zips through his room, and a moment later, it's spotless. You laugh at this. "You know you don't have to do that for me. Mine is probably way worse."

You saunter over to the large arcade machine in the corner, touching the plastic buttons. "Did you buy this thing?" It's clearly a very expensive piece of equipment, gathering by its newer looking condition. Peter comes up behind you, chuckling to himself. "Nah, bro." His response made you certain that he'd stolen it, likely in his youth when he was a bit more scandalous.

Turning around to face him, you notice he's rather close. As much as he was earlier, except clearly not for the reason of dancing. You can't help but remember how low his hand was against your back. If he'd moved it even an inch further, he would have been touching you much more sensually. You wouldn't mind if he had.

As a matter of fact, you gathered that it's strange he'd invite you up so late. Yes, it's Peter, and he's never been the predictable type. But never in the years that you've known him has he invited you to spend quality time together at one in the morning, in his bedroom.

Once again, you shake yourself out of your lingering thoughts, ashamed. You're so ridiculously horny that it's embarrassing. He remains where he stood, playing with the strap of your dress.

"That's gotta be uncomfortable. Do you want something else to put on?" His thumb grazes over the red mark where the strap had been rubbing against your shoulder. Before you can even answer the question, he's searching through his dresser. He pulls out a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and sweats. Not wanting to be rude, you take the clothes and step in his personal bathroom for privacy. Looking in the mirror gave you a small boost of confidence. Your makeup looks still wonderfully intact, and the dress you picked hugs your curves beautifully. It makes you feel so elegant that you almost feel sad to take it off.

But you can't. When your fingers give the zipper on your back a hard tug after many other failed attempts, you begin to panic. The fabric must be seriously jammed for this to happen. You've never had this much of a struggle taking off an article of clothing. For over ten minutes, you desperately try, breaking a sweat as you do so. That sadness from earlier changes to desperation as you try to then pull the dress over your head. You are unable to do this. It's too tight and won't even come over your shoulders.

Peter must have started to grow concerned with your absence. Hearing a knock on the door makes you jump. His voice from the other side is quiet. "You alright in there, bud?"

Your hands cover your face in embarrassment. You feel like you want to scream. It takes you a moment to awnser, fighting yourself on what to do next. There's a small window in the bathroom you think is large enough to jump out of, but considering your mutation is not flight and the fact that you're on the second floor makes you decide against it.

Finally, deciding to fess up, you stand at the door, opening it. "I'm stuck. My zipper is stuck." Clearly having no issues himself, he is already in his own comfortable clothing. You can see his suit disregarded on the floor in the corner of the room, that godforsaken tie on top of the pile. You know you can trust Peter to help you. He's not a creep. Not anything besides the occasional childish sex joke.

Peter laughs, motioning for you to turn around. "Geez, it seems like you just want a reason for me to undress you." You turn your head back to give him an eye roll, but accept his help and lift your hair up to assist him. His hands are gentle as he fights with the zipper. He seems to struggle as well, fiddling with the fabric for quite a while before finally you feel the sweet release of the restrictive clasp coming undone. After hours, you can finally breathe.

He'd just undone the top, but his hands stayed in their spot. Tingles went down your spine as he continued to slowly bring the zipper down. It was getting low. When you put it on earlier, it went all the way down to your ass before it was zipped. Right before he gets to that point, you stop him with your hand. Turning around to face him, you awkwardly smile; his hand still behind you.

Ultimately, you had enough, placing your hand on his chest. You aren't brainless. That was definitely a signal. "Peter, did you really invite me up here to play games? If not, that's fine, but I'm kinda dying from anticipation right now. Sometimes, I feel like you're leading me on. But then you do things that make me think we're just friends, and it's really confusing. And I have no problem with just being friends, but it's the middle of the night, and I'm standing in your bedroom half naked instead of playing Pong like we said we would and -"

He ends your rambling by pulling you close, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. You deeply inhale, taking a moment to register what's going on before kissing back. It feels heavenly, like drifting down a lazy river that doesn't have any kids in it relaxing. Like, your brain is slowly going to mush and becoming more and more useless as you continue, but you're totally okay with becoming a human vegetable if that means you can just keep going. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the connection. He tightens his arms around your back before lifting you up off of the ground, slowly twirling you around in a circle while in the air. This makes you snicker against his lips, which he reciprocates. The happy moment makes your brain foggy with admiration.

"I'm an absolute loser for not doing this sooner." Peter lays you down on the bed, joining beside you. Your legs hang off of the edge of the furniture. "I really, really like you. I have for a while. When we decided to have a prom I wanted to ask you to go with me so bad and be all cheesy about it, but I pussied out so I decided that the next best option was to get Jean and Raven to teach me how to dance so that we could." His words are being sputtered out like rapid-fire. "Please tell me I'm not finally saying this too late, and you haven't met someone else?" His voice is soft, laced with hints of doubt. He brings his fingers up to your hair, brushing it off of your cheek and behind your ear.

Your discomposure becomes all the more obvious as you pick at your nails, fiddling with your hands anxiously. This entire moment is more than you could even fathom in the past, like a fairy-tale coming to life. He likes you. He has liked you! Every pent-up feeling you've ever had for years has been reciprocated. "Peter -." You pause, trying to think on what to say. "You have no idea how happy that makes me. You wouldn't be late even if you had waited another few years to tell me that. I've liked you for a while."

Peter rolls himself on top of you, pressing multiple kisses to your face. He starts with your forehead, traveling his lips quickly down your nose, then rapidly on your cheeks. The affection feels pleasantly smothering. Finally, with one last final peck on the space between your brows, he connects himself to your lips once more. It's even better than the first time, giving you more of an electric sensation.

You grow heated, the sensation making you feel aroused. The kisses on your end grow more open-mouthed and inviting. When his tongue slips inside hungrily, you whimper, reveling in the feeling. This only encourages Peter more as he lifts his arm behind your back, making it arch while gliding his other hand down your torso. He groans delightfully, feeling your curves with fervor.

"Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?" His voice is deep with longing. His tongue laps against the sensitive flush of your neck. He finds the spot that makes you gasp the loudest, sucking the area just enough to make a small mark of his presence. You definitely don't ever want him to stop. He continues to go lower, trailing down between your breasts. Peter pulls you up, sliding the already half-off dress down your shoulders. His face turns bright red as a gawks at the sight of your bare chest. His finger rolls over your soft bud as he feels it harden beneath it. Squeezing your soft mound, he plays with you for just a little longer before connecting his lips to yours. There's a certain gentle urgency in his touch that brings you to an otherworldly place. Nothing else matters in this moment besides his hand that's slowly coming up your thigh. You can feel yourself already slick with arousal as you squeeze your legs together for some kind of friction. Peter senses this, using his hand to spread you apart as much as he can with your still clothed bottom-half.

He cups your center with his palm, rubbing over the area. His fingers curl inside of your folds, the ghost of a touch teasingly going over where you need him most. You mewl desperately for him, grinding into his hand. He grins against your neck, chuckling to himself. "So wet for me already? That's extremely hot. Have you ever gotten this worked up for me before, when you're all alone?"

He finally rubs slow circles against your clit, causing your eyes to screw shut with ecstacy. You can only bring yourself to nod as a response, finding yourself physically unable to speak in such a state. His hard-on is pressing against your leg. You can tell he's just as desperate as you are. Taking your hand, you press it against his chest to signal him to stop. His movements coming to an end leave you with a sense of longing as you get up, but quickly, you remove the rest of your dress and allow it to fall to the floor. Fervently, you slide down his pants and boxers. His cock springs to life after no longer being restricted by the confines. His tip is already leaking precum. The craziest thing about this entire ordeal is how natural it feels, but perhaps that's because of how often you find yourself imagining it.

Peter swallows, knowing where you're going with this as you wrap your hand around his shaft. You squeeze him lightly in your hand, testing the waters by giving a few slow pumps while watching his reactions. His face contorts in pleasure as he leans back on his elbows. He refuses to look away, fascinated by the sight of you. You experimentally lick from the bottom of his length to the tip, swirling your tongue around it. The taste is actually quite nice, faintly sweet. You suck his tip once more before finally bobbing your head down, taking as much of him as you can. It's only a little more than halfway before you can feel him against the back of your throat. You have to hold back gagging from the sensation. Peter lets out a deep groan, saying your name like it's his mantra. As you continue, his groans grow more needy. His hips instinctively thrust upwards, causing your eyes to water as he fucks your throat. A part of you grows embarrassed, knowing the tears in your eyes and swollen lips are not the greatest sight to see. But Peter trains his eyes on you, mesmerized.

He pulls you off of him, taking off his shirt before aligning himself with you. You look down and admire his toned muscles, stroking them curiously. It's wonderful. He feels and looks like one of those majestic Greek statues. Not the weird ones with small dicks and missing noses. Peter's cock teasingly rubs between your wet folds, brushing against your sensitive clit. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him to go inside. He begins to push his tip in, slowly bottoming out. When he finally does, he gasps, squeezing your hips. The feeling is delectable as he stretches you out so perfectly. You can feel your walls fluttering around him. Nodding your head, you signal for him to continue.

His pace quickens fast, and Peter pulls one of your legs up as he thrusts to go deeper. His eyes are trained on your expression, trying to find the perfect spot to hit in order to fully satisfy you. When he achieves this, the upward curve of his dick rubbing an area that makes your eyes practically roll to the back of your skull, he drills you just like that into the mattress. You find yourself unable to hold back the unholy noises you had no idea you could make. Pleasure overwhelming enough to make you mentally check out.

You begin feeling an all too familiar intense fondness in your abdomen. It's like a tital wave threatening to spill over. You grab Peter's shoulders, pulling him close. He peppers kisses along your collarbone, thrusts getting more uncoordinated and sloppy. He's getting close too, you can tell by his labored breathing and moans that are growing slightly more high-pitched and frequent. His hand reaches down, buzzing against your throbbing bud to finish you off. Your eyes shoot wide open, not expecting that suprise. Sure, you've seen him use this technique in the past to break glass, but never had you imagined that he could do this. He pumps once more deeply inside of you, sending you over the edge. Blinding pleasure explodes throughout your body, sending you into an oblivion. Peter pulls himself out, cumming on the soft skin of your stomach and letting out a guttural moan.

He collapses on top of you, nuzzling his head in the crook of your shoulder. Sweetly, his hand runs through your hair, a string of unintelligible compliments being whispered in your ear. "You're so perfect, baby. Never, never, never ever letting you go. Never. Don't ever leave me." Those are a few of the many you manage to make out. You tightly embrace him, allowing yourself to relax against him.

You feel a sudden shift, and in the blink of an eye you find yourself wearing the clothes he gave you earlier, all cleaned up. He is instantly laying beside you again, fully dressed, with a blanket covering the two of you. He pulls you against him as he lays on his back. Smiling, you trace small circles onto his chest. "We should do that more often, huh?"

He nods excitedly, pulling you in tightly. "Oh hell yeah, we've got years of being deprived we gotta make up for."

[hearted-anon]

i heard a little someone wanted ideas???

yk how a ton of the skz members have pets? maybe one of minho's cats or channie's berry just decides to slip under their shirt while theyre sleeping and accidentally tickles them awake while either one of them cant move too much because they dont wanna hurt their pets 🥺

we all know how fluffy berry is LJDUKEI

Puppy love

Words: 1125

Note: this was super fun to write

T/w: a bit rough, not a lot of tickles

Lee: Channie

Ler: Berry

Chan tossed him tiredly onto his bed, taking in deep breaths of his home. Oh how he missed Australia, his home, his love, his country. Cuddling his pillow, he couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something, missing someone to be exact. Just as on cue, the door creaked open, leaving a terrified Channie to scream his lungs out; he could’ve sworn no one would be home at this moment.

“W-Who’s there?!” The whimpering leader shouted, encasing himself in a pillow fortress like it would protect him from the upcoming threat that stood right at his door. Footsteps lightly thumped across the wooden floor, poor Chris too scared to even check for this unforeseen threat. Jumping onto the bed, he let out a blood-curdling cry when the bed dented even in the slightest bit. Uncovering himself for a split second with tears in his eyes, he was met with a ball of white and brown fluff that made his heart both drop and be lifted with relief.

“It’s just you Berry…wasn’t scared, wasn’t scared at all!” He panicked, softening up when his dear puppy waddled towards him in quick steps. Wiping away the beads of water that blurred up his vision, he picked up Berry with a small smile, happy to see at least he wasn’t lonely in the ventures of his home country. Berry wagged her tail in happiness at the feeling of seeing her owner once more, having only seen him performing and grinning so widely on screens that brought them so close but yet so far away, akin to another few kitties somewhere else.

“My baby!” Chan exclaimed, his smile so wide he swore his cheeks were about to snap in half. Watching his ‘daughter’ wag her tail so happily, panting ever so loudly for her ‘father’, he let out a squeal of happiness, nuzzling their noses together. As much as he loved his members, he could swear that nothing ever came close to his family, cuddling the pup like if he let go he’d already be back in Korea; albeit it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

After cuddling with each other for what felt like hours, despite being only less than thirty minutes, Chan felt his eyes begin to automatically shut, making him audibly whine; no one would see this embarrassing, petulant side of him anyway. He didn’t want to have to shut his eyes, despite it already being nine o’clock into the night. Although he knew that nothing can break their special bond, having known her since the day when they were kids, being apart for so long made him miss his pup more than anything.

“I just want all time to stop…and I’m never letting go if so.” He muttered softly, tears already welling up in his eyes again. Maybe it was the nostalgia or the homesickness, but ever since he had seen his dear pet he couldn’t stop crying, be it out of…fear, or pure ecstasy. Staring into the bright eyes that gazed right back at him, those same eyes that at times when he felt down or empty, she was always beside him, made him absolutely bawl into the pillow that provided a thin boundary between.

As if on cue, Berry seemed to notice the dip in her owner’s mood, unable to sense exactly what was causing this sudden outburst. Crawling out of his arms, which in fact made him pout just like a child, the puppy roamed around his body; contemplating on what to do to lift her owner’s spirits up, even if by a little bit. Slipping under his shirt, the pup got to work, rubbing herself all over Chan’s tummy, earning a loud squeal that pierced his sobs.

“B-Behehehrry! W-Wahahahit!” He begged, stamping his feet onto the sheets as a wide grin spread across his face. As much as her fur was going to drive him mad with giggles, he had no heart to push the pup away, he would feel much too guilty if he did so. Therefore, the bed was filled with a squirming Channie as he struggled not to move too much and throw Berry off him. Either way, she could sense that she was making quite the impact, wagging her tail happily…and into his belly button.

“AAHAHAHA! B-BERRY! PLEHEHEHASE!” Chan wailed through hysterics, not expecting the fluff in his navel to tickle that much, but it did anyway, and knowing that he couldn’t do anything about it made it just about ten times worse. Clutching the blankets for his life, his eyes once again squeezed shut in ticklish mirth, a white, pearly smile spread across his face through booming laughter. The pup simply woofed in joy, hearing her owner’s laugh was the only thing that managed to get through her, meaning she was a good pup! Bringing her paws to his sides, the scream that he let out was enough to egg her on, unfortunately.

“NO NO NO BERRY! PLEA- AAHAHAHAHA!” Even if he tried to beg, plead, he knew that she wasn’t human, neither would she get it. The pup kneaded her paws gently against his sides, he could feel the paw beans pressing against the smooth skin already. Tossing his head against the bed, he shook it rapidly, not sure how to deal with the sensations in his belly button and his sides. How was a puppy so good at tickling?! Slamming his fists onto the bed, he was holding back with everything he had not to carry Berry away, but it felt unbearable.

“BEHEHEHERRY! STAP! PLEAHAHAHA-!” With the last bits of air he could muster, he couldn’t believe he was stooping to the level of begging a dog to stop tickling him. At the hear of her name, the pup immediately went out of his shirt, sitting politely on his bed as the poor man plunged into silent laughter for a moment to catch his breath. His face reddened up, it dawned on him that he was tickled to tears, by his own pet. Feeling paws wipe at his tears messily, his smile melted into one that was genuine, bringing Berry in for a tight hug.

“I love you so much, Berry.” Chan muttered whilst snuggling his nose against hers, earning tiny little pants as her tongue stuck out excitedly. The sounds that remained were just Berry’s soft noises and the sounds of wind from the air conditioner, and finally, he was able to feel at ease heading to bed. No more did he think that Berry was going to disappear, no more did he feel upset at heading to bed. Letting his eyes close, his arms tightened around the pup, almost like a promise that he’ll love her plenty, who gladly accepted his embrace.

He hoped that this would never end for eternity.

[sparklingcid3r]

hc that obvi darrys best friends were his dad and paul, that are no longer around, soda has steve, and pony has johnny. but once johnny dies pony and darry start to rely on each other and then become the level of close that darry had w paul and pony had w johnny and darry is able to recreate the relationship he had w his dad w pony.

I mean I definitely think that after the shock and grief start to pass, Pony would begin to understand Darry in ways he couldn’t before. Yk like realizing that after their parents died and Darry was forced to come home and support his brothers, he had no friends anymore bc they’ve all moved on and gone to college. I imagine this helped a lot with rekindling their bond as brothers and not provider+child.

I doubt Darry would rely on Pony the way he relies on Soda in terms of money and sharing with him certain details of their financial situations, and honestly I think Darry would continue to go at problems alone unless absolutely necessary, and even at that point he’s reluctant to ask for help. But them behaving more as brothers in the events after seems incredibly possible, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Darry tried to loosen up a bit around Pony.

And ok I’m hung up on the last comment in your ask for maybe the wrong reasons but yall know I like to be sad so we’re chill🙏 Obviously Darry is never going to replace their parents or the bonds they all shared with them. Each of them loved their parents differently and had different connections with them. And in Pony’s head, now that Darry is the head of the house, he can’t always differentiate when Darry is being his brother or his home authority. But he knows that sometimes Darry lets things slide that their parents wouldn’t have, or hounds on him for something their parents would have let him get away with, and it confuses, angers, and upsets him to the point of frustration.

I don’t know, maybe I just can’t see Darry and Pony ever having a father-son relationship. They’re too close in age and their parents died when the youngest was thirteen, so he has enough memories of them that they wouldn’t start blurring with Darry in his head YET. I can imagine when Pony gets older and looks back on memories from that point in his life, he can’t remember if it was his dad before the accident or Darry who fell asleep with his head hanging off the recliner and woke up with a monster headache.

Omg I’m so sorry if I just didn’t really get what you were asking😭 not your fault, I’m actually just a yapper it’s a problem. I really enjoyed talking about this tho so ty for letting me🫶🫶

[itsfuntobeavampiree]

Vincent’s SO having him try a paraffin wax dip for his hands and feet for the first time

Slashers when their SO has an asthma attack; staying with their SO in the ER optional. I’m a Bubba Sawyer and Thomas Hewitt girlie :)

I think I will go with the second one bc I have asthma lol so yk kind of a "I can relate to this* moment. But if I do the Vincent one I will tag u if you'd like.

Slashers with an S/O having an asthma attack

Michael (og)

Now you know this man is NOT dumb, you've told him before you struggle with asthma just to warn him and he'd silently keep that in mind. He'd never thought you'll have an asthma attack this bad, like you always came prepared. Always had more than one inhaler on you, always knew when to slow down and you knew how to take deep breaths but I guess the cold autumn air really got to you one day.

Obviously he was watching you from afar as he noticed you had slowed down and held on tightly to your chest. He didn't want to interfere straight away because he knew you always had it but when you started to wobble and your breathing wasn't even breathing anymore he was ready to run and save you. Unfortunately the resident of the house you collapsed infront was ahead of Michael,coming to your aid he tensed and watched intently.

When he found out that you were at the ER being treated he was kinda annoyed. He's a possessive type, not liking people to talk to you unless he's hearing what's being said. He was actually thinking about slaughtering half the people there just to see you but he held himself back, just for you <3

When you're out the next day he is already there in your home, looming in the shadows. Be prepared because he will actually hug you back tonight! So you won there a bit. He wouldn't show it but he was absolutely petrified. You were the only person who understood him and he didn't wanna see you go because who knows what will happen.

Thomas

He found out you had asthma after realising you were slowler and more easy to catch out of your group. He also keeps this in mind ever since making sure you don't push yourself into chores you won't be able to do. He's always there to help you. He would be more protective and always listening out for your breathing, you could be a mile away and he could tell that your wheezy and so he would pester you into the living room to sit and he would pull out the inhaler he kept his his trouser pockets just for incase (omg he's so cute🥺) and would make sure you're okay. But I guess this time he couldn't.

On this specific day you all were out over working yourselfs, lately more people have became victims to the hewitt household and that meant more chores being forgotten about so today everyone was piling in on themselves making sure they got everything out the way before any more trouble comes rolling down their street. You were the unlucky one to have gained more chores and also had been forced to do some of hoyts as of his lazy ass command. Thomas would've helped you but hoyt scolded him for being too soft. You had soon realised your breathing had decreased the past 10 minutes but you being stubborn just took some deep breaths and conitued over working yourself.

You realised you had fucked up as the texas heat had made your breathing become painful and burnt your throat. As you tried to reach for your inhaler in your pocket, you couldn't feel it your eyes widened in realisation as you had probably dropped it in the hay as you were moving about. You had no patience to scurry around on the floor trying to find it so as you did, you tried to find Tommy.

Tears pricked your eyes as you struggled more and more and your vision blurred. You squinted and saw a large figure in the distance you tried and walked faster towards it but you couldn't even catch a breath when you were going at a slow pace. You fell to the ground with a loud thud and that alerted Tommy he turned quickly and his eyes turned to panic when you saw you on the ground your chest struggling to go up and down. He ran towards you shoving his hand in his pocket to grab the inhaler.

He knelt down next to you and puffed the inhaler into your mouth, making sure you inhaled it properly and making you take an extra one. Thomas carried you into the house and plopped you down on the sofa, wiping the tears from your eyes. He couldn't even imagine how painful it was for you but luda mae came by his side and helped him comfort you.

Luda as the Queen she is scolded hoyt for putting to much hard labour onto you knowing that you had a medical condition. For now on you either had inside chores that didn't need to much running around or some simple quick and easy outside tasks...close to Tommy.

(I love this gif of him he's so silly <3)

Bubba sawyer

I'm sorry but you know his house is damp and dusty and that's just perfect for your lungs! (Sarcasm if you couldn't tell) You told him what asthma was like a week in and you had to explain it to him in depth because sorry but my boy isn't so intelligent. He responded in little grunts of understandment and just patted your head. He also similar to Thomas will keep an ear out for you because after being here for a while your breathing had decreased and omg...those god awful chesty coughs. Now he has a mission! To dust the house for you I mean he can't really stop the dampness but he does try by opening windows during the day.

It was a day like no other, you were washing up, making the bed, doing laundry basically just helping out and doing work the boys were reluctant about. But all this running around made you wheezy so you went and looked for your inhaler, unfortunately this meant going up, down, side ways and under ways and your chest couldn't take it so you sortve gave up and sat down closing your eyes and taking in deep breaths. It hurt so bad but you just had to focus, you continously told yourself.

you heard the door swing open and your eyes squinted open to see your bubba. He looked at you with eyes of worry and made his way towards you. He grunted and snorted asking if you were ok. You just let out a wheezy cough and he knew what was wrong placing an ear to your chest as a way to ask if it was that and you slowly nodded he ran up the stairs and you could hear rustling and furniture moving. You tried to let out a chuckle but a whole lot of pained coughs replaced it instead.

Couple minutes later he came running down the stairs and sat by your side. He moved his hand holding your inhaler up to your mouth and helped you inhale it. After around 2 or more puffs and steady breathing your chest was no longer rising rapidly. He slung his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in for a side ways hug, you smiled up at him and tilted your head onto him so you snuggled quite nicely together.

He then scolded you playfully but he had a sort of seriousness to him that you kept in mind and didnt want to actually disobey,you nodded along before sighing, laying back into the sofa as he watched you with his gorgeous puppy dog eyes.

Yeah hi, sorry I haven't been writing as much recently, nothings being going on I js cant be asked if I'm honest. Another apology for bubba as I gave up half way in his awhile ago and now js remembered I better finish this off. So rn pls don't request anything bc unfortunately you won't get it till next Christmas.

Love you all my favourite lil slasher fuckers🩷🩷

[celestie0]

Girl look this is gonna sound like a love confession bc maybe it is idk I’m obsessed with ur braincells in another life your definitely one of my best pookies 😔🫶

Like the way I FELL in love with kickoff was so uncalled for bc what business do I have being this invested in an athlete frat college au when I’m generally all for the domestic angsty husband wifey shit anyway now idk how to cope when it’s finished so pls take my hand in marriage and we can have pillow talk abt them 💍❤️ thank you.

genuinely ur writing is chefs kiss though 👌 (let me kiss ur hands 😗) and I love love love that u actually seem to have real knowledge on what u write about like the soccer games and the all the camera stuff it gives the story sm more substance

anyway penny for my thoughts 🤧 ?

This fanart on TikTok: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSYaQwJQo

ok so basically when I first started reading the fic and I was talking to my friend abt all the frat shenanigans (WHICH I LOVE BTW IM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS FRAT BOY TROPE NOW) we both related it to this one fanart: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSYaCy7aX/

which then made a lot of sense bc it’s literally meant to be satosugu as frats (AAAAHHH 😫)

anyway so then I went on the account and discovered that first link right bc getos seggsy ass was the focus in the other one

and I just thought it was so fitting like the face is a bit off bc I think the darling artist is clearly a fellow geto girlie butttt the fit and stuff like yk how the insufferable man child was wearing fucking HO-HO glasses in the first chapter yeahh anyway hope u see it too and Imma do the good deed of passing word your fic onto the TikTok artist

forgot I was meant to be dot pointing

y/n

does anyone actually insert their name ? Idk I never have lol

love her

she usually ends up being my favourite character bc duh she’s girliepop

I struggle sm to read books bc like character names and stuff can throw me off so I prefer to dabble in GOOD fanfics every now and then (aka your masterpiece) or just indulge in smut when I’m ovulating 🙂‍↕️

ignore that

ummm so yeah I find books hard to get into since they start on a blank canvas and since I’m already obsessed with our marvellous blue eyed baby daddy fanfics are ideal cause they just build over that

anyway back to y/n I don’t actually remember what I was gonna say shes just bae

The slow burn holy shit especially the bed chapter like I kept going back and forth who’s gonna make a move only to fall asleep all bricked up at 2 AM 🥲

so well done

one random fav scene of mine is when he takes out the digimon credit card idk ur ideas and the way u write movement in scenes it just clicks for me

I like my shit my way. It’s all in my brain right these angst chronicles and I kinda just wanna see it written out bc I’m a lazy bitch and I cannot commit so I usually opt for like one shots or what not idk like “when he makes you cry” or “ when you use the safe word with them ft gojo, geto, toji” you know the gist of it

I have certain ideas in my head that I don’t like to compromise especially regarding y/n ig because I am her allegedly

but bro 😓

the way I folded for you omg 🙏

this deserves a list if it’s own lol but btw putting this out there I dont even except u to read through this shit I’m just in a yapping state of mind and I’ve come this far so ._. :

My first major red flag was the jeans

not my style okay I’d live my life in pretty little empire waistline lingerie night gowns if I could

First thought was “what in the white girl” butttt then my brain went “it’s giving Lana del Rey like when she was younger and was always seen by paparazzi just in a white tee and blue jeans + that one concert she did wearing jorts and a cute white top with hoop earring, chewing gum and smoking while singing summer time sadness like the absolute icon she is”

and bam I can fw it now 🤝

her hight is one thing I differ on tho cause I’m short so I blur my vision whenever u mention any kind of height or size related comparison with gojo bc ik it’s not accurate to me especially with that tree of a man and I want my moments too 😔

Shoko

I just don’t see her like that okay she’s so above gojos lanky ass in canon verse

but thennn as always u came through with the descriptionsss 🔥

the denim skirt

the sorority glitter cheeksss

hot.

okay I’m starting to sound 𝓁𝑒𝓈𝒷𝒾𝒶𝓃 my apologies

The age differences

honestly this wasn’t that much if a discrepancy I just found it a bit funny like todo as his homeboy lol

but yuji was so cute and I’m all for dad gojo but you’ve opened my mind to big brother gojo and I don’t see what’s not to like about it

As for the rest of the characters

Loved yuji as the bouncer (I didn’t know what that even was, again love how u actually know what u write about)

and also just that tiny crumb of megs when readers taking pictures, I can totally picture him as a soccer player

nanami was so odd to imagine but I settled on teen nanami with the emo hair and such

Choso

I just love chosos existence in this fic thanks for that 😌

OKAYYYYY this length of yap sesh should land me in a psych ward I spent a good hour and a half on this I’d say

but yes it’s due time I professed my ever growing admiration for you (💍 🔪)

I will check out if you’ve given fic recs but again I’m into the marriage pregnancy type shi and I do love me a good college au now more than ever so if u may 🤲

jk ‼️I DONT EXPECT YOU TO REPLY TO ANY OF THIS IM A BIG FAN REGARDLESS‼️

cannot wait for the next chapter (can he please dick us down hard already your edge game is something else 🫠)

xoxo 💋

OH WOW FIRST OF ALL THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR THIS ASK?? i appreciate the love for kickoff sm :”) even though it’s not something you usually read!! and yes 💯 to that fanart

haha i actually know close to nothing about soccer. i just ask chatgpt a bunch of questions about it when i write 🤣 but i know a tiny bit ab film photography cuz one of my close friends studied film in college :) i’m so happy those aspects stick out to you!!

HAHA pls the whole bed scene in ch8 was a lot of fun to write. i just love domestic lil convos between two people, and the lil digimon scene made me emotional to write bc it reminded me of how nerdy canon gojo is LOL (i miss him sm)

i’m glad you like yn too!! tbh she’s the center focus of the story in my eyes haha gojo is just a side character 💀 and wymmm my girlie is SHORT too 🤣 well idk how short you’re talking haha but in my head she’s 5’4 cuz that’s how tall i am lol

thank you sm for interacting so deeply with my silly lil story 😭💕 sorry if i didnt respond to all aspects of your ask but i read it all and was cheesing so hard plskdjdhd. so glad you’re looking forward to more!! also haha i saw your follow up ask too and YES gojo as a cat dad wasn’t something on my kickoff bingo card but alas here we are 🤣 much love from me 💕

alsooo i do have another series called “in holy matriphony” that is a fake marriage au gojo x reader :0 just mentioning that since you said you’re in the domestic marriage sorts of stuff. it’s kind of a silly n crack fic vibes tho LOL maybe not the serious angsty stuff but it’ll have angst for sure too :”) just if you’re interested bb!! <3

[sanzuslvt]

My God| (m)

pairings. fem Y/N x sanzu  summary. Y/N was saved by sanzu making her his obedient servent asking her to kill for him when this happens she finds out what she's been missing in life.

tags. romance, face fucking, degrading, praise, pain kink, use of pet names, deepthroat, soft-dom!sanzu, mentions of suicide

A/N. HIIII this is my first fic lmao I have no idea how to write but anyways this is for the sanzu simps bc yk I luv y'all anyways lmk what I can do to be better and yea enjoy. also minos DNI 

word count. 1.5k 

Y/N can't remember, she can’t remember the day that she became absolutely obsessed with the man who stole her heart and life. It feels like a blur at first it was the fact that he saved her life, But as time moved on it turned into this undying love for him. Somehow it turned to him bending her over and stuffing her full of all that he had. Y/N also knew she knew he didn't love her, she was being used and she understood that but this love she had for him was so deep that she would do anything even if she had to KILL.

Flashback

She stood on the edge of the building for hours now. She didn't know if she really wanted to die. Y/N felt like this was the only way but the truth is that she was just so scared. So she just stood there all alone on the roof crying until she heard a voice from the shadows behind her

“Why don't you jump.” “i’ve been watching you for a while now”

“I-i dont know… im scared” Y/N muttered under her breath  

“What's there to be scared of? You are gonna end ur life right. If you do it then no one will get the chance to save you.”

When he said that it stuck a cord in her heart contrary to what she was thinking she turned around to face who she was speaking to she fell… as she was falling it felt like 10 minutes but she felt like this might be a sign that the person she was talking to was bad for so she shut her eyes and fell until she felt the rough calloused hands of someone grab her ankle.

She looked up to see the person who saved her and he was there. It was love at first sight. His unhinged smile with two scars on the side of his mouth, he had a pink mullet and he was absolutely beautiful. Was this what angels looked like, she thought and he just smiled as he stared down at her before bringing her up from her plummet. This was the first time we met sanzu haruchika. Y/N felt this undying need to please him and obey his every order and so that's what she did. She followed him and obeyed every commend she was his little pet and she wasn't about to give that up

When he first asked her to kill for her it was nerve wracking. She knew what his job was before and she knew he wasn't innocent. She saw the blood and the pills but it drew her in even more than she could explain. But even when she was asked to kill for him she did it. Y/N was too in love to say no. He said the job had to be her. He told her she was beautiful and that for the man to take the bait it had to be her. Even when she knew it was a lie she still agreed but here she was standing outside of the wear house waiting for the signal to move in. Y/N is beautiful. She's fairly tan with hazel eyes and hair so long it made girls envy. This job was to seduce the man long enough to get him to leave and go to the empty warehouse with her and she was hesitant she could do it but anything for sanzu. When she got the signal she moved in seductively walking up to her prey. After a few drinks the man whispered in her ear

“wanna get out of here love”

It made her squirm in disgust but she replied with

“Of course i know the perfect place”

Y/N brought the man to the rundown warehouse and as any sane person would he was skeptical but she was so attractive it was a hard opportunity to miss. They quickly got to businus Y/N kissed the man and it quickly turned to a make out. She was disgusted, repulsed even by the man he wasn't unattractive but the only one she wanted was sanzu. When she noticed he was drawn into the makeout she quietly but surely drew Santos' gun, she put it up to his head and BAM he was gone. Y/N stood there for a few seconds in shock over what happened but was quickly taken out of her shoke by hearing sanzus beautiful laughter come out of the shadows

“ AHHH i knew my good girl could do it” he said approaching you and wiping off the blood for your face and chest

“You look so beautiful like this.”

“S-sanzu what did i just do” y/n said almost in tears

“Aww don't cry baby girl… you were just doing what i asked of you and you did such a good job”

He said as he embraced her in a cold hug. Once she returned to reality Y/N felt the hard shaft between her thighs. She wanted to please him bringing her hand to his cock she slowly rubbed his mound

“Tsk tsk tsk look my darling is so impatient”

“I just want to please you, let me make you cum

Sanzu then grabbed her hair pulling her down to her knees. She winced from the pain but she could feel her arousal pooling in her panties.

“Take them off darling take my dick out for me’

She obeyed. She could see the print of his crotch in his boxers and it made her savivate she wanted him. She NEEDED him. She then grabbed the rim of his boxers letting his cock spring out smacking his lower abdomen. No matter how much she saw it, it always impressed her. Oh it was so beautiful the beautiful pink color of the tip and the single vein running down the bottom of it. She wanted it in her. Abruptly he pulled her hair making her head fall back and her mouth run open.he slipped his thumb in and she sucked it knowing how much he liked it.

“Mhmm always a good little girl for me”

She nodded her head giving him her big pretty puppy dog eyes

“Don't look at me like that, it makes me want to destroy you.”

He said grinning from ear to ear.

“Open ur mouth” sanzu commanded

And that's exactly what she opened her mouth slipping his cock inside she hollowed out her cheeks like a good little girl would.

“Suck” he said grinning like a mad man

And so she started off slow and she got faster and faster with each bob of her head. It was moving smoothly until Sanzu gripped her hair and forced his cock down her throat. She gagged at the sudden intrusion of her throat and gripped his thighs telling him to stop. But he just got faster and faster fucking into her mouth.

“Do you enjoy that huh. Just like you enjoyed being a little whore earlier, letting that guy touch you like I wasn't watching.” “i bet it turned you on didnt it huh sluting out infront of me” He pulled out of her mouth.

“Speak”

“S-sanzu p-please i love you and only you so please use me like you've never used anyone im your cum slut… i-im only a slut for y-you. S-sanzu ah”

He stuffed himself down your throat again making you yelp out of pain and pleasure.

“Show me. Show me… cum from my words baby then i'll know you love me. DO IT.”

Y/N slowly removed her hand from his thigh and lowered it to her clit. She could feel her heat from the thin denim shorts she was wearing. She rubbed small circles around the sensitive area on her mound and she slowly got faster and faster. She moaned on sanzus dick making him fucking her face even more enjoyable. She could feel herself nearing the end and she could feel sanzu was almost there too. It was so hard to breathe at the pace he was pounding her face but she put up with it and she needed to help him.

A few moments before she came she looked up terms brimming her eyes. Everything felt so vivid, her fingers inside of her cunt senzus hands gripping her hair and his dick flowing in and out of her. But the most unforgettable thing was his face, his beautiful scars, his whimsical smile and his amazing eyes. It's almost like the unforgettable night when he saved her. Then when both of their eyes met they both came. This was the first time that Y/N had felt something so fascinating. She felt her cum running down her thighs and she felt his going down her throat. At that moment She felt so lucky it didn't matter if he didnt love her or if she was being used. she knew she just knew that he was the… he was her GOD.

[shotosprincess]

When he loves me — Iwa ♡︎ Oikawa

LISTEN TO: “ CLOUD 9 “ — BEACH BUNNY

ART: UNKNOWN ( i found it as a sticker on picsart since i couldnt find any good iwaoi screencaps so if yk who the artist is plspls lmk !! ty !! )

｡･:*:･-: ✧ :,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

pairing: iwa x oikawa

summary: iwa shyly plays oikawa a song he wrote on a whim ,, and years later ,, after they fell apart ,, oikawa attends one of iwa’s concerts and hears their song,, the song,, once more .

genre: angst + fluff !! <3 ugh i love oikawa my bby but i absolutely love him and iwa together sm too ajjdjjf

a/n: 3am writing for comfort innit (•̀ᴗ•́)و smhsmh it’s lowkey so dramatic ?? idk why i was feeling so melancholic ?? but i live for the yearning anyways lmao <//3

“ Hey...wanna...hear something I’ve been working on? “

Iwa’s voice shifted to one of a far softer tone, unusually uncertain of himself as he gripped the bedsheets beneath him in an anxious hold, turning away from Oikawa whilst a deep vermillion blush tainted his shy-stricken face.

The hazel-haired setter lifted his mouth into a gentle smile, skin mirroring a similar red to Iwa’s. His head lolled to the side, and Iwa swore he felt something flutter within him. The fist which he clutched the bedsheets within closed even further.

“ Sure, Iwa-chan! “

A hard gulp. Iwa swallowed his nerves down, fingers hovering over the strings of his freshly-purchased guitar, hesitant. Trembling, even.

Light wisps of brown swept just over Oikawa’s eyes as he put down the volleyball he had been mindlessly spinning, and covered Iwa’s hands with his own. He looked up with a reassuring grin, deepened-honey gaze colliding with one of the enchanting midnight sky.

“ It’s okay. It’s just me. But of course, you don’t have to play if you don’t wan— “

Iwa swats his hand away. “ Of course I wanna, dumbass! “ He barked.

With a frustrated huff, his fingers find a home amongst the sound as they begin to delicately strum the translucent strings. His eyes fell closed, lost in the music, albeit fairly cliche, as he wordlessly played the song which was most special to him.

For what reason it held such a cherished place in his heart, he did not know. Not truly, at least. Admittedly, he had written it purely on a whim, clutching onto the fleeting remnants of a foreign euphoric high. The crazed rush of fingers furiously clacking against the keyboard filled the silence of his room, lasting well into the evening. He had so much to say, so much to express, and yet it was only through the words appearing on the screen in which he could ever hope to communicate it.

He had never even planned on sharing it. After all, it was merely a crappy, rushed song put together purely by the rawness of an unknown emotion, and during ungodly hours of the night out of all times. It was nothing special, really.

To him, at least.

And yet in a hushed, timid tone, he began to sing:

“ I don’t wanna seem the way I do...but I’m confident when I’m with you... “

Oikawa’s lips parted in sheer awe. The delicate swirls of the instrumental blended flawlessly into the angelic quality of Iwa’s singing. His muscles tensed. He shook it away.

What the hell is this? Was he...nervous? No, no, it can’t be. This is Oikawa-fucking-Tooru we’re talking about!

He could do nothing but stare intently in a silent adoration as he allowed his heartbeat to meld with the smoothness of the melody, sweeping him out of Iwa-chan’s bedroom and into a whole other universe entirely. One where there exists no pain, no sadness, no fear. One where tears dried before they could even splatter upon the ground. One where everything was happy and perfect and...good.

—

IWA

Five years have passed, yet I miss him all the same. If anything, the ache has only grown to, somehow, prove itself increasingly unbearable over the time we’ve spent apart. My stare falls upon my guitar. Not the new one, which is this modern, flashy model with a bold red design, but my first-ever guitar, boasting its worn-out strings and dulled body. The hole in my heart digs itself impossibly deeper.

We had dated not long after that night—the night I played my song to him, and suddenly it became our song. We would whip it out like a handy party trick whenever we’d hangout with the rest of the team, and it was...nice to say the very least. Well, while it lasted, of course. Highschool love, teenage love, is constantly fleeting. Temporary. That was my philosophy at least, until Oikawa Tooru appeared and changed everything. I disregarded every sense of rationality, and all for the blissful rush of romance which he offered. The sneaking out, the small notes snuck into each other’s lockers, the way he draped his jacket over me when I got cold, the tender kisses shared in a darkened room.

I loved it. All of it. And when I lost him, I missed him too. All of him.

I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised, though. After all, teenage love is but a transient feeling, is it not? I had to drill the reiteration of my old motto back into my head when we split, so that I may never allow myself to yield to the temptations of love, or at least the attractive promise of one, ever again. Eventually, we had to go our separate ways. He pursued volleyball, and I chased relentlessly after a different growing passion of mine, though honestly rather unexpected; music.

And now here I am. Sitting backstage at my own show, waiting patiently for my cue. My foot taps a random rhythm against the floor as I mentally debate with myself whether or not my choice for the opening song truly was the best option.

I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?

He might be watching.

Fair, but would he even recognize me? Does he even remember me at all? I mean, it’s been so long...

I think he’d remember something as sentimental as the song you first played him. I mean, you were the first guy he ever dated.

Yeah, keyword: “ dated “. He’s probably moved on by now.

Shit, do you think he’s found someone new already? What if he brought them to the show?

Nah, nah. That’s highly unlikely. Impossible, even. The latter, that is. It’s not exactly that popular of a show.

Right, you’re right. So there’s nothing to worry about. Hakuna-fuckin-matata, right?

I suck in a sharp breath as the lights come on, laughing dryly.

Hakuna-fuckin-matata.

—

OIKAWA

My hands fiddle with one another as I push my way past the busy crowd to find a spot amongst the front row. A cheery girl with astonishingly-saturated red hair and an almoat-overwhelming brightness about her, greets me. I scoff, amused.

A fangirl, no doubt. Charming.

“ Oikawa! Ohmygoshohmygosh, Oikawa Tooru!! Hi!! I’m—I’m— “

I glance at the front row, which is only a few steps away, as her blubbered words start to blur together. I laugh.

“ A fan, right? Want my autograph or something? A picture, maybe? “

Her eyes light up vastly and she begins to bounce up and down with the same enthusiasm I’ve noticed to be common among practically all fangirls.

“ YES! Ohmygosh, yesyesyesYES!! “

My grin widens as I click my blue pen, which I carry around for autographs ( oh, the pains of being famous ), and hurriedly sign my name on her collared shirt. It was a fairly pretty garment, I’ll admit, but at this moment I didn’t really care, and I’m sure neither did she, judging by the way she squealed excitedly and took a spam of what had to be a million-and-one selfies with it.

I finally find a place among the jumping people at the front, taking in the atmosphere. The lights dim, and brighter white ones turn on in their place.

The show is about to start.

—

IWA

“ Hey, everyone. I— “ The mic whines with feedback. I wince, wrapping my free hand around it and trying again.

“ I’m—I’m opening with a song that’s very dear to me. I wrote it way back in highschool, but it’s always stuck with me, kinda like a safety net...of sorts. I uh, hope you enjoy. “

Shit, why am I being so damn awkward? I’ve never been this awkward before a show. Maybe it’s because of that damn opening song. Oh well. Too late to back out now.

Irritated, I push the thought away, wetting my lips as the drowning claps and whoops from the crowd cheer me on. My hand hovers just over the strings. It’s shaking. No matter. I close my eyes, and imagine him holding them. Him encompassing my hands within the warmth of his, just like he did all those years, which were now lost in the past. Him looking at me, him telling me it’s okay. Him.

I breathe all my nerves out.

Him.

And I begin to play.

The awkwardness melts away almost instantaneously as I pour every dripping ounce of my heart out into the song, the music swelling wildly with every emotion I had forced in for the dreariness of these five years. My eyes shoot open when the chorus hits. I feel like I’m king of the world.

I catch a familiar set of eyes. Richly brown. Deep.

Oh shit.

My breath hitches when I realize who they belong to; Him. His. He-

No, no, it couldn’t be. Could it?

It felt too real, as if I’ve somehow managed to reduce his very existence to nothing but romanticized self indulgent daydreams of what we once had, woven into the vast vagueness of song lyrics with a naïve hope of what could’ve been. And now here he was, at my concert of all places, for god knows what reason. The colourful lights fell upon his face in the most flattering manner, though admittedly I suppose anything would be flattering on him either way. But under this light especially, at my concert, he looked nothing short of perfect. Of lovely.

But of course he was. This was Oikawa-fucking-Tooru, after all.

The chorus hits with a sharp accent. I belt with all that I am, for the boy who took a rough sketch of a dream and made it reality, for the boy who found an unmatched sense of home among those of his highschool volleyball team, for the boy who wound up so foolishly falling in love with his best friend. For him, for my fans, but most of all, for me.

“ But when he loves me, I feel like I’m floating, when he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody— “

I maintain eye contact with him. It’s scary, burning holes into my tattered soul, which I had pieced together so carefully with cathartic lyrics scratched into the pages of creased notebooks. I’m secretly scared that his gaze will somehow break it all down again. But that’s when I finally understand; it’s him. This, this song, it’s about him. It’s always been about him. There will be no one else, could be no one else for me. That...sheer elation, the unfiltered emotion which sparked this song to begin with—I understood now. That was love. More specifically, love which my chest held for Oikawa. It’s as if I’ve been harshly disillusioned to see what I’d been unconsciously denying all these years, seeing him here. It’s always been Oikawa. How could I not have known? After all, I’m constantly recalling the day he held me in a tight embrace after one of our best matches, happy tears staining my damp jersey as he whispered in my ear the praise I’ve subconsciously always wished to hear.

“ You did good. “

Though it seems painfully mundane, simple to anyone else, it was...different, coming from his lips, hearing it in his voice. I took that compliment and kept it close to me for all eternity, immortalizing it within the varying notes of this song. I stare right back at him with a newfound fervour, an unknown intent, a epiphanic strength.

“ Even when we fade eventually to nothing, you will always be my favourite form of lovely. “

His eyes widen.

—

OIKAWA

My heart clenches as Iwa freely powers through the rest of the song. But during this moment, it feels as though it was created solely for us. As if the universe, as if fate itself had decided that despite the harshness of this world, and every little force fighting to keep us apart, this one moment, if anything, was ours. Truly ours. Our song, our moment. Ours. Time suspended itself indefinitely as the onyx hearth of his gaze finally met with mine. Unexpectedly enough, it stayed there.

And everything fell into place.

The song didn’t take me to a paradise without tears, or pain, or sorrow anymore. It took me to a place with Iwa in it. I realize now that...I want the tears. I want the pain. I want the grief. I want the good and the bad and the light and the dark, so long as I can have Iwa there with me through it all. I want him. All of him. I’ve want to love him enough to love his “ unglam “ moments and his admirable aspects all the same. I want to be there with him through every body-wrecking tear, every hearty laugh, and every glimmer of happiness. I want to be able to see the face he makes during a scary movie, to open an umbrella for him during the rain. I want to see the sunlight glow upon his cheek, I want to count the stars with him until I fall asleep. I want everything about him, for to me, he is everything. And it’s this song...this damned song which brought it all back.

It was ours. And I realize now...it was about...me. I mean, I’ll admit that I’ve always been a little more on the conceited side, but how could you deny it? It had to be. It had to. Had to. I wanted it to, at least. I wanted it to be about me so desperately, it sent a cold pain through my chest. A single, lonely tear falls down my cheek as the crowd around me erupts into a sea of laughter and off-tune singing from the audience.

What if it wasn’t? I mean, you guys broke up. You told him you moved on. Yes, it was a lie to lessen the pain, but he didn’t know that. What if it was about someone else completely and you’d just been an idiot this whole time? What if—

The concert comes to a close much faster than I thought it would, much faster than I would’ve ever wished for it to. I don’t know what I’m doing, what I’m thinking, but my legs move before I even have a chance to question them. I’ve always been one to think before acting, hence why I’m such a star on the court, but this time, my emotions seem to be taking over. I don’t know what’s come over me, what this unusual, hot feeling is. It’s exciting and intimidating all at once, and I hate it because I know what it must be. In a hot flash, I find myself standing at the door of Iwa’s changing room. How many bodyguards I must have recklessly shoved out of the way to get here in the blur of adrenaline, I don’t even want to begin to think about.

My hand freezes over the door. “ Iwa “ is engraved in bold gold letters with a deeply-etched star sticking out at the bottom. Taking a deep breath, I knock frantically.

“ I-Iwa-chan? It’s uh...it’s Oikawa. “

—

IWA

I pause in the midst of buttoning up my shirt. A solid three are left undone. But his voice...how could I ignore it? Ignore him? I haven’t heard his voice in what feels like eternity, but I’d be kidding myself if I had said I’d forgotten it. The constant yearning was always so irritating. Such a pain. At least it made for decent music, I mean, I’ve been booking shows. But alas, one problem before another.

“ O-Oikawa? “ I slowly pace to the doorknob as I twist it open.

Holy shit.

It is him after all. He hasn’t changed a bit. He remains the charming, handsome man I remember him to be, even after all this time has passed.

“ How’d you get—why are you here? “

“ Iwa, there’s...there’s just...there’s something I need to ask. “

“ Huh? “

“ That song...our song.... “

“ Shit, right! I, uh...sorry. I didn’t ask you about it because I honestly didn’t expect you to show up at all. It’s been what, five years? “ I stumble subtly over my words, rubbing the back of my neck.

He turns away sheepishly. Almost...longingly, even.

“ Yeah...it has. “

He clicks his tongue.

“ Who, uh...who was that song about? The curiosity’s been eating at me. “

A heat rises to my cheeks. A pause.

“ I—It—Ugh, fuck it. “

I’ve never been the best at talking directly to Oikawa, not since I realized that what I felt for him extended to something past the bounds of friendship. So I decided to do the only thing I knew to do in that moment—show him instead.

My lips crash against his as he slams the door behind him. The palpable tension between us is shattered immediately, and everything is faded out into insignificance. All that matters is the man in my arms, the man I’d been longing so desperately, so hopelessly for all this fucking time. I kiss him against the smoothness of the door, hands immediately trailing to his soft locks. I twirl and twine them as I see flashes, bright hues of heaven itself. His lips upon mine are the most perfect fit. His touch is painfully intoxicating, and I show him, wordlessly, with an unparalleled fervour—just who the song was about. He melts into it, matching my energy with a foreign sense of passion.

—

OIKAWA

“ Do you think...the universe is gonna try to separate us again? “ I ask softly, voice barely even a whisper. Tears wet my lashes at the very thought of being without him again. For those five years, though I was living my dream...it didn’t feel complete. Not without him. I blink them away aggressively, focusing on the night sky above us. My head is resting in his lap, and we’re simply...existing together beneath the curtain of darkened pools which hung above our twined bodies.

Iwa strokes my hair nonchalantly as he interlocks his fingers with mine. “ Of course. It always will. But we found each other didn’t we? And even after...even after this life has passed and we’re reduced to nothing but ash, I’m convinced we’ll meet again. One way or another. “

He tucks a straying tuft of hair from brushing my lashes.

“ Even then...even then you’ll still be my favourite form of lovely. Or whatever. “ He scoffs at his own over-poetic response, looking away with a tiny smirk.

“ Okay, Mr. Songwriter! “ I tease, nudging his side in a playful manner.

He rolls his eyes, bending down to kiss me once more.

For the first time in a long time, I feel complete. I’m on cloud 9.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I’M HEREEEEEE I’M HERE

you know i HAD to cook up a lil letter for this one…… dipping my pen in ink and tracing the crinkled paper in front of me rn <333 MICKEYYYYY YOUR TASTE IS UNPARALLELED AS ALWAYS i had to go hunt down my own collection immediately pls bare w me :’3 i’m so excited rn i’m shaking like a scared dog

FIRST OF ALLLLLLLL portrait of fryderyk in shifting light my absolute BELOVED i think that’s my favorite in the whole collection but there’s some competition…. THE LINES YOU MARKED DOWNNNNN I’M BARKING WILDLY they’re so good ………. what can you know about a person? they shift in the light. what if i cried and exploded and also threw up. it always makes me think sm of geto/kenny too…. the dichotomy there. the life of the body is a nightmare. you get the vibes. my hand over his face, which isn’t his face anymore, revising….

IT ISSSSS SUPER DUPER IHTCTAOT CODED!!!!!!! :3 reading through the poem rn and i think these lines are soooo knight!reader/prince!toru coded too…….

+ some other general siken poem lines that remind me of ihtctaot :3333 (the green+pink annotations are from his other collection crush!!)

(mickey i need to know if you also lost your mind at the and this means your life is over anyway line bc i was literally flipping through crush looking for knight!reader in every poem and when i got to that one i fucking Exploded)

ANDDDDD THE WORM KING’S LULLABY MY BELOVED EVER that one makes me think of stsg too 😥😥😥 IT’S SO GOODDDDD also while we’re on the topic of stsg . pls know that every single poem from crush is stsg coded . siken wrote it just for them i’m convinced….

aaaa but !!!! i’m so happy the ones i sent you way back then r still your favorites !!!!!! T_T getting a good grade in Mickey…….. normal to want and possible to achieve…… self-portrait against red wallpaper reminds me SO much of knight!reader and ohhhhh the lines you pointed out. the apocalypse au … that’s so good ….. i think that’s what interests me most about an au like that. not the question of survival but the question of what happens after, yk? or between the gaps. even if you survive, what will you do? can you go back to the way things were? will you be able to love anyone anymore? and then ofc also just . the question of love and light and how much it really matters in a world that punishes you for it (it matters more than anything but these silly little emotionally repressed popsicles haven’t realized that yet)…. i’m sososo excited to jump into that world w you <3333

but ok back to siken… it rlly is The Poem ever i’m never not thinking abt it. never not thinking abt my blorbos as i read it. the final couple lines get me EVERY time and imo they’re very gumi coded…… i hate my friends. and when i hate my friends i’ve failed myself, failed to share my compassion. (…) i mean, maybe it’s better if my opponent wins. <- that’s Him. don’t even get me started on i clawed my way into the light but the light is just as scary. (…) it’s too much work. bc in context of the current megumi? in the manga??? yeah. sick and twisted.

AND TOJI TOJIIIII WE NEEEDDDD TO TALK ABT TOJI i’m gonna be honest mickey war of the foxes as a whole reminds me of the jjk villains more than the good guys . sukuna and toji and geto and kenny. etcetc. emphasis on toji. the lines you picked out makes me think of him sosomuch but also??? landscape with a blur of conquerors. the whole poem. every time i read it i think of him

ALSO this specific part of a primer for the small weird loves …. in crush ……. instantly thought of him the first time i read it like three years ago (normal abt him btw)

ANYWAYYYYY I THINK THAT’S IT …… i’m so happy you enjoyed the collection <3333 atp my goal in life is just to make my mutuals read it …. i’ve alr succeeded w you and io + kairo bought it a while back i think …….. mr siken everything i do is for you

i am back from the Outside. back from the Book.

anyway portrait of fryderyk in shifting light is very very very ihtctaot coded and it's making me sick i love them so fucking much

"he is looking at the wall and i am looking at his looking. difficult thing to be scrutinized for so long." // "my shadow falls across him and it doesn't go away." // "see me, not through me." // there wasn't much left but it felt like him, wild and scared."

+ and this part from the worm king's lullaby made me think of stsg i'm fine btw i'm so fine

@twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat hihi my sweet little iris i am holding your hand and tugging you over here to tell you that remember when you showed me siken's poems like a million years ago? the ones you picked out are still my favourite ones.

self-portrait against red wallpaper is my favourite favourite from the whole collection though. i just wanna thank you for showing me this one in the first place, life-changing honestly. i'm pretty sure i saw you post a snippet from it some days ago too i'm glad it's on both of our minds

"shame means you're guilty, like the rest of us, but you think you're better than we are. maybe you are?" // "disheartening? obviously. i hope it's love. i'm trying really hard to make it love."

"i clawed my way into the light but the light is just as scary. i'd rather quit. i'd rather be sad. it's too much work. admirable? not really. i hate my friends. and when i hate my friends i've failed myself, failed to share my compassion. i shine a light on them of my own making: septic, ugly, the wrong yellow. i mean, maybe it's better if my opponent wins."

i feel like this is also very fitting for ihtctaot but but but but also... for the toji apocalypse au i'm working on. ok this is just me rambling bc i haven't even really talked about it that much so u guys don't know anything lmao (u will u will)

the whole second part just makes me think about how hard it would be living in an apocalypse you know.. you'd want to try to make it work, to make it love, to be in the light but it would be so fucking hard, wouldn't it? and so much work. think about all the heartbreak and the pain, wouldn't it be easier to quit?

and the "shame means your're guilty, like the rest of us, but you think you're better than we are. maybe you are?" is toji. this is for toji. he's acting cocky and he's acting smug, like he knows everything about the world, like he's some immortal creature. like he knows better.

he doesn't. he is filled with shame and everything alike, he's as guilty as the rest of them. he's as bad as the rest of them, he's as good as the rest of them.

[calumcest]

you can tell a lot about someone by the type of music they listen to 🎵🎶

rules: hit shuffle on your media player and write down the first 20 songs, then tag 10 people. no skipping!

ta @clumsyclifford for tagging me despite knowing what shambles my music taste is honestly a brave woman <3 also before i start this off i want to say this playlist is 15 hours long and only has like 40 britpop songs on it so just in case spotify keeps spitting britpop out at me i want to put a disclaimer here

all i need - radiohead. this is a BANGER god maybe i would die for thom yorke...maybe i would 

tomorrow’s money - my chemical romance. okay i know lots of people dont vibe w this song but it was actually my favourite mcr song for a while i think it SLAPS i love the ‘i stopped bleeding three years ago while you keep screaming for revolution’ bit 

backseat serenade - all time low. i stand by this being one of their best songs simply for the ‘aren’t you sick of sleeping alone’ and the final ‘oh god i’m sick of sleeping alone’

song 2 - blur. i wont apologise for this its a fucking ANTHEM and that aside ‘i’m never sure why i need you’ is one of my favourite lyrics 

lost in reality - 5sos. okay this is literally one of my top 3 5sos songs it fucking goes off so hard i dont care what anyone else says and yes the lyrics are shocking but its no just saying this song is almost on par w babylon and lwh for me 

slide away - oasis. now this song slaps i have to say i love the way its played on definitely maybe very dirty and raw but noel did an acoustic version of it and i think i prefer that one although i prefer liams voice on it @ liam odds on a cheeky slide away acoustic? 

take on me - a-ha. this song goes off theres nowt better to dance around the kitchen to w your housemates while you try to make a lasagne but forget the pasta layers and just end up doing bolognese-bechamel-bolognese-bechamel for like 4 layers 

the carpal tunnel of love - fall out boy. i think i have almost the entirety of infinity on here bc its genuinely such a banging album top to bottom 

durch den monsun - tokio hotel. HAAAAAA okay this song fucking goes off thats all i’ll say about it everything tokio hotel released up to humanoid was wall to wall bangers 

that’s the truth - mcfly. the verses of this leave much to be desired but thats made up for by what a SEXY chorus it has danny jones you have my whole heart

rockafeller skank - fatboy slim. i will not apologise for this one it fucking goes off its on an advert right now and me and my housemates would sit watching the chase and scream this out when it came on during the ad breaks good memories 

the boy who could fly - pierce the veil. i cant lie to you selfish machines is a fucking class album i always dither between that and cwts for best album but i think sm edges cwts out a little for me anyway ptv havent done anything worth listening to since 2012

the good the bad and the dirty - panic!. again doab...solid fucking album only edged out from the top spot by how fucking brilliant v&v is nearly witches...tune of the century 

canals - all time low. this is one of the best songs off dp and its annoying that they only put it on dpiln but its fine because we got it and also they released dp on my birthday so i have to forgive them for anything they do 

dani california - rhcp. WHAT A SONGGGG i’m not really big on rhcp generally but they have some absolute fucking TUNES and this is one of them you tryna tell me youre not gonna scream out BLACK BANDANA SWEET LOUISIANA 

karma police - radiohead. goddd this song...is a tune and a fucking half i remember when i saw rh it was the last song they played and the entire bus back to where we needed to go people were singing it on the bus and it was just lovely

playing with fire - ndubz. okay listen...i’ve been on a bit of a kick w this song its actually a fucking banger except in the chorus where it goes yes you did it (eh) the eh just sounds like he’s doing finger guns yk. i cant explain it but it really does

vegas girl - conor maynard. GODDD okay i wont actually take criticism on this one i know its conor maynard but its a fucking BANGER it sucks but it slaps 

unorthodox - wretch 32 (ft. example). i forgot this song existed until like 2 weeks ago and ive been listening to it loads bc its fucking brilliant although it gives me slight rizzle kicks vibes 

if we shadows (demo) - oasis. only right that we end on oasis maybe spotify is respecting me today...i fucking love this song except the bit where he says me and my brother with the fucking biggest plosive ive ever heard anyway this is just lovely i love noel’s voice i really do and i love him doing acoustic things very pretty...

god i think literally everyone has been tagged at this point so i’m just going to tag people even if you’ve already been tagged you’re getting tagged again @calumsclifford @kaleidoscopeminds and @pxrxmoore 

[tellywoodtrash]

khkt 30.09.19 lb

no net coz of weather issues so here, have the most basic of lbs, that i’m doing on my phone ka notes app.

(also didn’t watch the previous ep coz....... i just didn’t feel like it. i always kinda mentally check out when i know trouble is coming, to save me the pain.)

———————————————————————

i hate when ppl are all “don’t bring gifts!!!” fuck you, you don’t mean that shit. in the end we’ll be the ones looking rude af for taking you at your word.

lol at vimmi having freakout in bg.

NO DON’T SUGGEST A FUCKING RICE COOKER.

pooja no, do not aid and abet this nonsense.

seeeti???? rice cooker pe?????

“khoon ka badla khoon! JAI MATA DI!!!!”

lol raima had not accounted for the exponential increase in mumbai traffic in these 4 years.

god this idiot and his ring. what the fuckkkkkk is wrong with you, man?????? EVEN ARRANGED MARRIAGES TAKE LONGER THAN THIS TO GET FINALIZED.

“aaj ki raat meri aur tumhari zindagi ki sa se khoobsurat raat hogi.”

sooooooo it’s all downhill from here onwards? that’s........ disheartening.

pffffft sona putting a whole other colour of lip product on her lips which already have bhar bhar ke lip liner and lipstick.

CAN SOMEONE TELL US WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKKK HAPPENED TO HER 4 YEARS AGOOOOOOO????? AGLE JANAM TAK KHEENCHOGE KYA???

aaaaaah the sweet sound of suman screaming at pari. love it.

sona also fucking her up. noice.

raima, maybe take this as a sign that you’re not meant to go over there today????

lmao veena being ambushed by suman’s pyaar. haaaye kaash nishi hoti yahaan!

fitteh muh tera, pari. manhoos kahinki.

ajit is already taking all the bhaabi waala liberties with sona. i love it, give me more. pls show, sail this brotp ship of mine soonly.

i can never take bowties seriously. they look quite silly on anyone other than aziraphale and little boys below the age of 13.

ok slow mo dekhna muskuraana blah blah gimme the good stuff come on.

confidence ho rich upper-caste hindu mardon waala ho, warna na hi ho.

deepa chachi isn’t as excited as she usually is?

awwwww suman is already doing jamai raja’s taang khichaai.

once all this raita is sametofied (probably in mid-2020), i’ll need them to build a formidable alliance that kicks the ass of anyone who looks at sona wrong.

lmaooooooooo “jai mata di!”

ugh lo aa gaya i was hoping he wouldn’t be here.

tanya’s not here???? uh ohhhhhhhh.

oh wait, i guess pari’s mad coz of ego hurt rohan did on phone, eh? toh shaayad utna danger nahi hai. but who can tell with these horny fucks?

deepa chachi’s hawk like nazarrrr on these shady fucks. good good good. 

unf never did i know elbow grabbing could be this saaaaksy. 

UGH KEEP THIS SHADY MOM OF YK’S AWAY FROM SUMAN SO HELP ME GOOD!!!!!!!!!!

oh noooooooooooo they’re forming a passive aggressive alliance of sorts and it’s being overheard by naren. oh god make it stop.

OH FUCK IS RAIMA HERE ALREADY?!!?!?

oh it’s Irritating Bengali Mom. got here ahead of schedule. aunty thoda wait kijiye, aa jayegi. aur kahaan jayegi?

pooja, bless your heart, but there’s really no need to try and make nice with this bitch. 

COME ON ROHAN, AT LEAST YEH DEKH KAR TUMHARI THARAK KAM HONI CHAHIYE. SHE’S A NASTY PIECE OF WORK WHO WAS RUDE TO YOUR SISTER!!!!!!!!!!! AT LEAST BE A GOOD BROTHER, IF YOU CAN’T BE A GOOD HUSBAND!

raima, i know you woke up from a coma and are a little addled, but will you just get into any random car that stops and asks if they can help?????? like, things weren’t soooooooooo different 4 years ago ki you’ve forgotten how to live in this country.

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY GODDDDDDDDDD THE WHISKEY GLASS DKLFJLSDJFLKD I KNOW WHO IT IS AND RAIMA GIRL, OF ALL THE CARS IN THE CITY, THIS ONE?!!?!??!

why focusing on the brand name which is blurred out???? nonsense.

GOD PLEASE STOP MAKING THIS AWKWARD CONVO ON HOW MUCH THINGS COST WHY ARE Y’ALL SO CRASSSSS

“paisa sab kuch nahi hota” - that can only be said by someone who has a lot of it and has never wanted for it. fuck off naren.

OH GOD DON’T BE A RICE COOKER PLEASE DON’T BE A RICE COOKER

bless veena’s heart for being delighted at this also.

fuck you rohitttttttttttttttt you snarky lil shit!!!!!!!!!

OH THANK GOD. SONA HAS SENSE.

TAI TAI PHISSSSSSSSSS, DR. SURGEON.

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSS ROHAN KO BHI AKAL AA GAYI THANK YOU JHULE LAAL!!!!!!!!!!

lol did suman not know that pari had the assignment before this????

ASKLFJSLDFJKDSLFKJLDSKJFLDSJ SUMIT WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?!!?!?!?!?!?!!?

ABBE IS BECHAARI ADH-MARI KO TOH CHOD. USPE BHI LINE MAAR RAHA HAI?!!?!?!?

LMAO DID HE JUSTTTTTTT NOTICE THAT SHE HAS A BREATHING TUBE AND A WHOLEASS OXYGEN CANISTER?!!?!?

if i was raima i’d be like put me back in the damn coma, at least i didn’t have to deal with creepy fucks like these then.

OMFG AKASH CHACHU’S SHIRT. I LOVE IT.

god rohit why must you recreate the absolute worst parts of DDLJ?!!?!? THERE ARE SO MANY CUTE SCENES *COUGH* THE ALMOST KISS *COUGH COUGH*

WHAT IS WITH THE TERRRRRRRIBLE MUSIC DURING THESE SCENES MAN?!!?

aslfkjsdfklsdjflj rohit you are so bad at this COULDN’T YOU HAVE COME UP WITH A BETTER EXCUSE?!!?

lol deepa/ajit: the cuteass team-up i never knew i neededddd.

will women ever stop looking sexy af in large oversized shirts? NOPE.

OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO DR. SURGEON WANTS TO SHOW OFF HIS EXCELLENT STITCHING SKILLS, KI CHAAHE BODY PE HO YA KAPDE PE, HE’S GOT THE BEST PAIR OF HANDS FOR THE JOB

asalkdjlsajkdlsakdjsa the shirt removal. CONTROL YOURSELFFFF SIR.

can they stop panning the camera all around and focusing on idhar udhar ka random decor saamaan?!?! I WANNA SEE THE SEXY.

.......... what exactly is he stitching??? both hooks are there only. loop toot gaya tha toh iss side pe kyun silaai kar raha hai?????

OH GOD THE RING IS OUT THE RING IS OUTTTTT

AND RAIMA’S HERE AS WELLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!

———————————————————————

oh god. the poop hath hit the fan.

ROHIT ISTG IMMA KICK YOUR DAMN ASS IF THIS ISN’T A RED HERRING FOR THE PRECAP.

OMG SONA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :((((((((((((((((((

[vmpbyss]

aaaaa okay okay uhm ,, hs....

i would like to say i'm not nervous or scared, but i am. i am nervous and scared to go to hs. why couldn't i have just stayed in elementary forever, yk?? why did i have to grow up so fast??? this year honestly went by in a blur to me, one moment i'm still doing online as a wee little sixth grader for a couple weeks, and the next i'm going to graduate in a few months. it's still a bit away, yes, i still have exams to take, yes, but i'm still ,, shocked?? this all came up bc some counselors from one of the hs's in my area came by and basically briefed us about hs 'nd stuff & ig that's just where it all??? sunk in??

bc they briefed us, they also gave us a form to fill out for what classes we want etc. etc. i honestly never wanted to go to this specific hs, and as i expected, they didn't really have many programs i liked/strongly wanted to do. that being said, i did some research on the school i did want to go to, and while they have programs i like, it's waaay too complicated bc it's kind of ,, far?? not like, super far, but just far enough to the point it would be a bit of a struggle to navigate my daily routine. plus, i wouldn't want to move just for a hs that's just slightly better than the other (and the area's kind of old/expensive).

it's stressful if i'm being honest. so many of the schools in my area are fucking terrible :/... they're either super ghetto, or have shitty programs... or both... schools w. programs i'd like are all in those big states like cali or ny or smth, but i don't want to move to a diff. state just to have a program i want, and nonetheless, i wouldn't like to live in either states anyway. moving just to get a program i'd like is hella immature and i would be embarrassed if i did that. but ig you could say that that's hypocritical of me bc even complaining about my given circumstances is immature. like ,, please don't get me wrong! i'm so grateful that i'm healthy and live peacefully, but i dk??? i just feel like they're not the most ideal circumstances, yk? i would absolutely love to go to an intl school in sk so i could not only learn more about myself/culture & see family there, but just be more happy there??? does this even make sense???? it's just that everytime i visited my family in sk, i always had sm fun and was super happy... unfortunately, tuition prices are steep as hell, and well uh ,, i'm not really smart enough to get some amazing scholarship... i'm decently intelligent and fairly articulate as well, but i'm just ,, mediocre ig?? not to mention that my time management & work ethic kind of sucks...

the future is scary tbh, and as much as i'd like to focus on the present like i always do, it's hard when the weight of the future looms oh-so grandly and intimidatingly in front of me... this is kind of a heavier post, but i just needed to let it out a bit ;;