#anyway. he hates cars for a bit afterwards

[iamfuckingsorry]

So I know the fandom loves seeing young Kim as a punk, with leather jackets and combat boots and a million pins and patches and in general fairly anti-establishment and also somewhat openly gay at least within the community

And I'm not gonna lie I love it too

But there's also this idea that I can't get out of my mind, and it's Kim in what is called "epa-kultur" over here. 15 year old kids too young to have a driver's license or a car, but one of the friends in the group has six older siblings and managed to get one of those cars that are only supposed to go up to 40 kmph that you can drive with a moped license, but that can definitely go up to like 150 if you flip the right switches. It's 30 years old and absolutely shit but you all love it anyway. You drive around, a shitty speaker in the back playing terrible electronic music too loud to really hold a proper conversation while inside, nine kids packed like sardines sitting on each other's laps (one of the backseats is taken up by a speaker), ending up in an unused parking lot to get drunk on 3% beer. The car's broken half of the time but that just means you play bad music and get drunk on cheap beer while trying to fix it with random parts you got from a friend of a friend of a friend, always fucking up in some way no matter how hard you try so the car will inevitably break down again within a week. Until you eventually really do get fairly good at fixing it, and then you just end up checking all the bolts and connections all the time instead. And like it's definitely a small town/rural thing over here. It definitely would not be a thing in Revachol, and especially not in the part of Revachol Kim grew up in, where you're happy to have a roof over your head and food to eat and you're probably reasonably rich compared to your neighbours if your family has a car. And while it's very different nowadays especially with younger kids you could still get a lot of the ideas common in more conservative areas, about gender roles and queer people and whatnot.

And I just love the idea of 15-year-old Kim with a group of other kids like this, feeling a tiny little bit like he finally belongs somewhere for the first time, trying to figure out a way to get some money for a car part for his friend's car, drinking even though he doesn't really want to because that's what you're supposed to, casually making sexist jokes that make him strangely uncomfortable even though he doesn't really understand why, fully convinced the only reason he tries to find any excuse to spend time with this one guy that is so impressive and knows so much about cars is because it's the first time he's found a good friend, because why else would you feel this way about a guy

and then after a couple of years maybe he does bring up possibly feeling a certain way about men when he's a bit drunk and he immediately gets made fun of, and when he doesn't react fast enough and say that obviously he was kidding, eww that would be so gross, he gets called a hundred different slurs without hesitation, not just homophobic ones but racial ones too, and he realizes once again that there really isn't a single place in this world where someone like him could truly belong, no matter how it might feel in the moment.

(and then maybe he does get a leather jacket and some patches a few years after that lol)

[synthetickitsune]

svt + who would sacrifice you to save the world vs sacrifice the world to save you A/N: i'd once again like to thank @hanniedream for driving me insane ♡

S.Coups ❧ Chooses you, over and over and over. Selfishly. So fast he doesn’t get to think about the consequences. It hurts him and it breaks him, and he’ll be the most possessive and protective of you in the aftermath. The only way he might not choose you is if you beg him not to. Maybe. But his body is already molded to only feel complete with you in his arms.

Jeonghan ❧ Chooses the world and he makes sure you understand it’s an apology to you. He will think of it as setting you free, allowing you to see more precious things that do not exist in this world. He will think of it as taking it easy - you know he gets tired quickly. Wherever you are, you will prepare a life where he can join you one day.

Joshua ❧ Chooses the world, and will spend the rest of his life mourning you, praying for your forgiveness. He wants to have hope, he wants to be glad about the choice he made. He surrounds himself with joy to feel justified in his actions. Nothing works. He retracts into the depths of his soul. Abandons his life, as if he lost any right to it after what he’s done.

Jun ❧ Chooses you. If the world came to a point where a person has to be sacrificed for it to continue, the feelings and lives of the people around them disregarded, that is no world that is right. He is angry and his fury burns doubts away, leaving only determination. A world like that is one worth abandoning. Where there’s will, there’s a way. He’ll create a kinder world.

Hoshi ❧ Chooses you, despite everything, because he can’t let go. He’ll hold onto you too tightly, so he can forget the things he sacrificed. He’ll carry enough guilt for both of you. He’s haunted by nightmares that only your heartbeat can chase away. Part of him wants to regret it, but his heart knows there never was any other possible outcome.

Wonwoo ❧ Chooses the world, because it’s the rational choice that he knows he’ll deeply regret in waves, but knows you won’t and that you will understand because you trust him like that. Everything will remind him of you, he’ll search for you sometimes, driving himself crazy trying to forget what happened. He can’t be left alone when he remembers he won’t find you.

Woozi ❧ Chooses the world, because you deserve better. He’ll live with the feeling that it’s just an excuse, even though he knows if he chose you, you’d hate yourself for it. And he’d hate himself for making you live with that guilt, in the world that is not the one you shared before. His yearning is dangerous and painful, all he can do is hope you can hear his apologies where you are.

The8 ❧ Chooses the world, because he loves it. Because he loves you, and he knows you won’t just disappear. You’ll linger around him in his heart and memories, in the wind caressing his face, in the water hugging him tight while he swims in the ocean. You’ll continue on his journey with him, and one day he’ll fill you in on the bits you missed. He will meet you again.

Mingyu ❧ Chooses the world, but cries before, during, and after going through with it. He can’t look at you, he can’t look at anyone afterwards. He believes he is a monster for being able to do that, and for believing he made the right choice. Every day he needs to find another reason to excuse what he’s done. You always told him to be strong when he was struggling - would you be proud of him for holding on?

DK ❧ Chooses the world, only because he knows that’s what you’d want. He runs away from the choice for as long as he can, just so that maybe he doesn’t need to make the choice. Was it inevitable? Or could it be avoided if you never met him? The world ended for him anyway, even as it keeps turning. It’s just as cold and empty as the universe enveloping it.

Seungkwan ❧ Chooses you. He wants to be a hero but he isn’t. He’ll apologize until the end of time for bringing this on both of you, he’ll be careful with the fragile and broken pieces of the two of you that the choice left behind, and take responsibility for his decision. He’ll make you happy. It’s never gonna be enough, but he’ll fill your world with every precious thing he can.

Vernon ❧ Chooses the world, but only because he believes he’ll meet you again soon. Every night he falls asleep thinking of the multiverse - there must be endless numbers of Vernons who chose you as you deserved, and there must be an equal number of Vernons who made the same choice as him and are hurting just as much.

Dino ❧ Chooses you, because he has a duty to fulfill and promises to keep. He couldn’t live with himself knowing he betrayed you like that. He promises to himself it will be a fresh start. You’ll do what you’ve always wanted together. The world always eventually heals itself. He promises to himself he’ll make it work if it’s the last thing he does - and he always keeps his promises.

[strawberry-daiquiris]

i just need you to know that all of these ~water adventure oscar~ photos have me thirsting for a salt skin part 2. maybe he and lando decide to take to the sea ? i don’t know. i’m just spit balling. and this is ZERO pressure! i just wanted you to know im thinking of you and your boys! (plus my fave photo from the set!!)

this photo was intense immediate salt skin vibes for me! the concerned look on his face, the clutching hand on the towel, the person captivating him off camera.

i haven't done much meta around them because that fic still feels a bit sacred - i wrote it all in one sitting, more or less, and felt a bit like i'd been drowned in the ocean/dehydrated on a rock when i finally stood up off the sofa.

i've always thought that afterwards, lando would become oscar's very curious, slightly violent wag, flitting all ethereal around the paddock charming people then threatening to rip their throats out if they so much as hinted a threat at oscar. everyone would know there was something weird about him, they could just never really guess what. except for maybe zak brown lol still don't ask me what i was getting at with that weird hint of a side plot.

anyway here's a little 900 word snapshot of their morning before this picture would have been taken in the saltskin universe!

tw for them being bloodthirsty sirens and also displaying slightly coercive behaviour!!!

_________________________

“Are you going to put SPF on?”

Oscar hangs back against the bathroom door, rubbing a stubborn patch of lotion into the dry skin at the side of his nose. On the floor, Lando is rooting under the bed for something, his naked arse pointing Oscar’s direction. It still gets him, even now, how weirdly Lando moves his human body, whipping around slightly too fast, fixing Oscar with a stare that’s a little ethereal. 

“I’m a merman, Oscar. I don’t need frickin’ SPF.”

”Were.” Oscar emphasises with his hands, chucking the tube onto the floor next to Lando. He flinches from it like Oscar’s thrown a grenade, or a fishing line. “You were a merman, and now you’re not, so…”

He points out the window to the baking hot sun. It’s a free weekend in Monaco, time to take the boat out into the furthest reaches of the bay so Lando can dive under the water for longer than it should be possible to hold his breath. 

“SPF.”

Lando grimaces, poking at the tube with his foot, trying to roll it under the bed to its final resting place next to whatever he’d been looking for. He treats the underneath of the bed like a cave, hoarding things there. It’s fine, and Oscar doesn’t mind, until it’s something important, like his passport, or the car keys. 

”Lando, don’t make me do it.”

Oscar turns back to the bathroom mirror, sighing when he realises he’s still got a glob of white on his nose. He pauses, listening for the squelch of cream on soft skin, but it doesn’t come.

”Lando,” he starts, and he hears a groan as his voice curls out of the bathroom, tantalisingly soft as it creeps away from him. Oscar has learnt how to control it, how to target the power towards a person, or an object. It’s not the only reason there’s trophies on his shelves and a different coloured team wear in his wardrobe, but it’s one of the biggest. “Put on the sunscreen.”

He hears the cap pop, the heavy weight of Lando’s footsteps as he comes closer, standing naked in the doorway squirting it on his chest. It’d be hot, if it weren’t for the scowl.

”I hate you,” Lando spits, tongue more pointed than usual, the tops of his ears going red like they want to spike, fighting the siren rage.

Maybe it’s hot because of the scowl.

Oscar only smiles, wrapping an arm around his stomach and holding him against the door frame, fingers working some of the cream into the scarred skin that used to be gills, shiny silvery purple like stretch marks. When he comes to a stop, he looks at his hand, pale against the tan of Lando’s skin. Ever since he came out of the ocean, he’s had webbing at the base of his fingers. Not enough to be noticeable unless you really look. Take it in alongside his slightly lighter eyes, and his sharper fingernails. Surface changes to the eye, but rooted far deeper than that, somewhere in Oscar’s DNA.

”No, you don’t,” Oscar whispers, and he doesn’t need to use his powers for this, needs nothing more than the press of his lips against the side of Lando’s face, where he’s finally starting to grow something that looks like facial hair. “You love me.”

Lando squirms, but Oscar has the upper hand. More strength in his thighs, more defined muscles in his chest. He’s not fighting a monster now. He is one.

”Don’t.”

Oscar smiles, twisting Lando so their faces are pressed so close he can smell the salt on Lando’s breath. Strong like he’s been swilling sea water, even after he’s brushed his teeth.

”You do, you love me,” Oscar insists, and Lando shakes his head. Oscar rests his fingers along Lando’s scars again, scraping the pointy bits of his nails along the soft, new skin until Lando shivers, whimpering, pleading. Tame. “You wished for me.”

Lando grabs Oscar’s arm, wraps his strong, long fingers around his wrist and tugs, heaving breaths like he’s just gulped down a lungful of water. 

“You did,” Oscar insists, the hand Lando didn’t grab scratching deeper, until the scars start to pinken. It turns Lando on, every time, still sensitive with an erogenous zone unique only to him. “Say it.”

”I wished for you,” Lando blurts, and Oscar lets go, stepping back out of his space triumphantly. Still, Lando reaches for him, sliding his hands under Oscar’s t-shirt, feeling the muscles, pulling him close. His voice is softer, when he speaks again, more like the boy who dazzled him in the water, tempted him close to death. “You know I wished for you.”

Oscar kisses Lando’s forehead, holds him as he rests against his chest, so much skin on display, so much vulnerability. He can tell the moment it takes them both, remembering how lonely they were, how much they loathed the absence of this, even when they didn’t know what this was. 

“I know,” Oscar whispers, letting his hand fall to the curve of Lando’s waist, and the small ridge where his tail used to start, the one you can feel if you know where to touch. Eczema, Oscar has taught Lando to claim, if anyone asks why his skin looks like the surface of a rock, weathered by a storm. “I know.”

They stay that way until the SPF starts to dry, tacky, on Lando’s skin and Oscar has to push him away before they’re bound by more than just the sea.

”Put some clothes on, Lando,” Oscar says, brushing past him to leave for the kitchen, pack a cool box with raw meat they don’t eat anywhere but home, the boat and any restaurant with carpaccio on the menu. “The boat’s not going to sail itself.”

[purplekiwis]

𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆

Summary: While they're on opposite ends of the social spectrum, Y/N and Harry have been the closest of friends for years. But could it be that an all-night working session for a science project helps them break out of the friendzone?

Genre: Friends to Lovers | Nerd!Harry x Badgirl!Y/N

Warnings: SMUT | Self-Deprication | This is coming-of-age story. There's no mention of their age but both characters are in their last year of high school (just a heads up in case someone doesn't want to read because of that)

Wordcount: 10k

A/N: ok y'all, so i have made a mistake.

i was like 99% sure there was a request in my inbox asking for a blurb where harry was nerdy? i found it interesting so i started working on it... only to realize halfway into things that that was not in fact what was written in the request 😅

i figured i might as well post it anyways since i wrote it but yeah... i'm sorry, anon! i (now) know you wanted subby!harry, but all i have to give you is nerd!harry (don't worry, i made him a lil subby just for you 🤫)

also, before y'all flood my inbox with asks about the non finished fics (rightfully so) i hear you and i'm very, very sorry for the lack of updates. i had to take a break because i kept feeling like the texts i could come up with weren't good enough for the stories i wanted to tell. i still partly feel that way, but i'm hoping the lack of real harry content will inspire me to write more in the near future. thank you for reading my dumb little stories, i love you 💖

****************************************************************

Harry was never too fond of grocery shopping.

He really didn’t like the whole “put things inside the cart, remove things from the cart at the cashier, bag them, put them back into the cart, get them in the car, take them out of the car, bring them inside and put them away” process.

It was extremely inconvenient to him.

It was also very time-consuming, though Harry believed this particular belief of his was directly influenced by having to grocery shop with his grandparents every other day.

Naturally, they were slower than he was, so he'd just drag his feet behind them, push the cart and wait for them to ask him to grab something from the shelves that their aging pains no longer allowed them to reach.

That part was fine, what bore him the most was how easily they got sidetracked by trinkets that weren’t on the shopping list. Oh! And how they always managed to locate a random old couple they knew from God knows where who engaged them in talks that appeared to stretch for hours.

Harry would try and make up reasons not to go with them sometimes, but he always felt a little guilty about it afterwards. After all, it was a very small favor for him to help his grandparents with their groceries, considering they had been the ones to provide him with a loving home after his parents failed to do so.

People always seemed to feel sorry for him when they found out he'd grown up without his “real parents” around, but he'd never had reasons to complain, really. Unlike his parents, Joe and Martha had always treated him nicely and made him feel genuinely loved.

They were a little overprotective at times, but like Y/N always said, that was probably because they were retired and watched too much TV.

Speaking of Y/N, Harry didn't hate grocery shopping with her so much. He even kind of enjoyed it as long as the space wasn't too crowded. That day it wasn’t, which he was extremely thankful for because it reduced the chances of them bumping into any familiar faces who might ask about his grandparents, or if the pretty girl he was with was his girlfriend.

That’s another thing he detested about running into people his grandparents were friends with - they loved to pester him with indiscreet questions about his love life that made him go red-faced. It was even worse when he happened to be with Y/N during those times; fortunately, she was always a bit clueless about it. Harry guessed that the reason for that was that she was so comfortable with their friendship that she wasn't even aware of what was going on… even if she thought it a little odd that he kept introducing her as his neighbor even though they weren't neighbors anymore.

Despite the fact that they no longer lived next door to each other, Y/N was still a frequent visitor at Harry’s house. Ever since his family relocated to a different area of the city, it had become custom for her to spend the night whenever the two had group projects to complete.

Their journey was always the same. As soon as they got off the bus from school, they would head to the supermarket to stock up on frozen pizzas and late-night goodies to help them through the long hours they’d be spending working on their computers.

They'd just grabbed their pizzas, as well as another two for his grandparents since pizza happened to be one of the few fast foods that they tolerated, and were now wandering around the drinks aisle looking at the options.

“Do you think your grandma would notice if we hid one of these in your backpack?” Asked the ex-neighbor, Y/N. The smile on her face, coupled with her mischievous gaze got him figuring she was up to no good… even before he noticed the bottle of whatever alcoholic beverage she was holding.

The idea startled him a little more than he'd like to admit. “Don’t start! And put it back before anyone sees you.”

The way his body jumped made Y/N laugh as she set the bottle back on its shelf. “Relax, okay? I was only messing with you... I knew you'd be too chicken to do it. But just so you know, they don't even ask for an ID most times.”

He replied to her with a headshake. “You're not as cool as you think just because you get drunk with your other friends every once in a while.” She didn’t seem too pleased by his remark, but Harry figured that by now she ought to know he didn't mean most of what he said when he was stressed. “You can get an iced tea… or a pepsi… or even that weird-flavored soda you like.”

“Fine.”

Harry noticed that even after he allowed her to pick the drink they’d be having later, Y/N still didn't seem particularly happy with him. She trailed behind him in silence while he pushed the cart around and didn't even appear to care when they walked past the shelf where her favorite snack was.

“Did you know that statistically, people who start drinking in their teens have a 5 times higher likelihood of becoming alcoholics than those who only start later?” Harry knew it probably wasn't the best conversation topic to get her to talk to him, but it was the only thing that came to mind in the moment.

“Did you know that stating facts like that makes you look 1000 times more of a nerd than you already are?”

Harry snorted at her retort. “You didn't seem to mind me being a nerd when you asked me to work on the review paper with you.”

“I do every school project with you, why should this be any different?”

He smirked at that. It was true. He and Y/N had attended every academic year together since they first met in elementary school, and they had managed to enroll in almost all of the same classes each time. They were currently in their senior year of high school, and their friendship was still pretty solid despite their different personalities and social interests.

Y/N was in the midst of a rebellious phase. In the beginning it all had been quite harmless, with her obsession with dyeing the ends of her hair crazy colors and pairing fishnets with knee socks. That somehow led her into starting to hang out with people Harry considered to be a little unnerving.

He wasn't sure what exactly made him nervous about them... Maybe it was because he was a little resentful over having to “compete” for Y/N's attention and feared he would one day completely lose her to them, given that they were undoubtedly the cooler part of the equation. Perhaps part of it was also because those people reminded him of the kind who used to bully him for being a dork when he was younger. Thankfully, he wasn't being bullied as much anymore, but he still didn't have many friends.

He also barely interacted with girls, as one might expect. There were times he had crushes, but he was always afraid to talk to them, so things never really progressed anywhere. Thus, Y/N was really Harry's only female friend.

He confesses sometimes he was surprised she still wanted to hang out with him as much as she did. When she became popular, Harry naturally assumed she would ditch him for social status reasons, but that never happened, which was a big relief to him since he really liked having her around.

They were both geeky, so they watched a lot of sci-fi movies and played video games together... but when it came to other things, they were a little different. Y/N had a much better sense of style, was much more social, and enjoyed doing dumb things like smoking weed and getting drunk behind her parents’ backs.

Harry had never really understood the appeal of it. In fact, his lack of interest in participating in grown-up stuff sometimes worried him a bit, but again... it wasn’t like he wasn’t curious.

There were a few times when he thought it would be cool if he could hang out with Y/N and her friends, go out drinking, dance, and maybe, just maybe, if he was very very lucky, even get to kiss someone on the mouth.

But then he always ended up reasoning that people like him weren't welcome at parties and that if he ever dared to step foot into one he'd probably end up being the butt of everyone’s jokes.

Even knowing so, he couldn't help fantasizing about it… especially the last part. Yes, Harry definitely thought about intimacy a lot more than he'd ever be willing to admit… and he also pondered a lot about how being practically invisible to girls sucked… and about how much he wished one would give him a chance.

He was aware of his issues, however. He knew he wasn’t exactly the hottest guy around. His haircut and clothing were out of style, mostly because he lacked the confidence to mess with his looks and follow the trends the way other people did. He’d buy new t-shirts sometimes; the only thing was that they almost always had videogame-related designs which obviously didn't do his style much good.

But it wasn’t all bad. Harry knew he had nice eyes… he just couldn't get the girls to come close enough to notice them. He figured the way he mostly stared at the floor when he walked, along with the thick glasses he had been wearing since his childhood had also taken part in preventing people from noticing how exquisite his peepers were.

He thought Y/N had nice peepers as well, and he liked the way she accentuated them with make-up… even when her eyeliner turned out a little uneven or got smudgy because she forgot she had it on and rubbed her eyes with her fingers.

She'd been doing that a lot in the last hour they'd been working on their paper, which was making Harry feel a little bad.

It had been a good while since they had returned from the supermarket. The issue was that when they arrived at his house, they found Harry's grandparents working in the backyard. And while Harry had never been a fan of getting his hands dirty in the garden, Y/N thought it would be nice to offer to help, so they ended up spending a good chunk of their afternoon pulling weeds and pruning flower bushes.

And then, since it was already close to dinner time when they finished, they decided it would be best to begin working on the paper after eating and showering the gardening sweat off their bodies. That plan was shelved, however, because Harry really wanted to play Mortal Kombat since it was multiplayer, and he rarely had anyone to play it with. So they wound up wasting an additional hour on that.

Normally, by that time in the evening Y/N would already be working on her part, but as they'd started late, she wasn't. Also, being the control freak he was, Harry always wanted to be the one in charge of the research portion of any papers they worked on. Leaving the final task of writing and flourishing to Y/N.

So the poor girl had been sitting next to him in bed for hours, watching him go through articles on his laptop.

Harry could tell by the increased frequency of her yawns that her battery was running low, so he wasn't the least bit surprised when he heard her hesitantly ask, “Are you planning on staying up working much longer? Aren’t you getting tired?”

“Um… not really. I came across this really interesting essay on our subject and want to make sure we gather all of their data.” He was so preoccupied with copying and pasting that he didn't even look away from the screen as he replied to the question. “It's a shame we don’t have any hot springs nearby... wouldn't it be cool if we could actually collect samples of these microbes to study them in the lab?”

“Are you for real?” She looked at him like he was crazy as she let her back slide halfway down the headboard. “You’re telling me that you really find water microbes that intriguing?”

“Not all of them, it’s just that I’d never considered the possibility that there could be species growing and thriving in actual boiling water… since, you know, that’s what’s supposed to kill them.”

“I didn’t find it so surprising, which is making me wonder if it could be that I’m smarter than you...”

“Not a chance.” Due to the silence that followed his teasing, Harry realized that Y/N was nearing sleep but was resisting in order to maintain her supportive role. “Should I go get the air mattress to make your bed?”

“I can't sleep. I haven't done my part yet.”

“It's fine; we still have the entire day tomorrow to finish.”

“Don't bother with me if you’re focused on the paper. I just need rest my eyes a bit, but I won’t fall asleep.” She promised, but Harry knew better than to believe her. “You don't mind if I cover up with your sheets, right? Your room’s a bit chilly.”

“No, not at all.” He didn't mind it, in fact, he even found it a little exciting. Not in a pervy way, but it felt good to know that a pretty girl would be laying in his bed and would most likely leave a bit of her girly scent on it. Harry tried not to dwell on those kinds of thoughts over Y/N too much, but of course he thought she was pretty. He wasn’t that blind.

He hadn't always felt that way. For a long while Harry just thought of her as his best friend, but she'd grown into her curves in the last couple of years and he would be lying if he said his eyes and mind didn't occasionally wander. He felt a little bad about it, but it wasn't like he was ever going to do anything other than fantasize, so he supposed it was alright… as long as she didn’t catch on.

Truth be told, he’d always liked Y/N’s personality, but as of recently her looks and the way she dressed had also made her the type of girl he was attracted to on the outside. Yes, it was always the girls who wore alternative clothing and scowled at people like they wanted to break their nose that caught his eye.

He was aware that his preference sounded extremely stereotypical coming from a shy loser like him, but it wasn’t like he could help what he was keen on… or the way his body warmed up whenever he felt the pressure of Y/N’s soft boobs against his side.

“Is the entire chapter on Volcanic Islands really necessary?” She asked, leaning further into him so she could see the laptop screen despite being laid down.

“I'm not sure if it's necessary, but I thought we should at least mention these two hot spring locations since they keep coming up in the articles.” He could feel her sigh of defeat on his arm. “It’s already halfway done. I've already gotten all the info about Iceland… now all that's left is this tiny archipelago from Portugal.” With that, Harry rushed to type the final location on the Google search bar but was taken aback by Y/N's chuckling, that seemed to come out of nowhere. “What are you laughing at?”

“Do you not know how to delete your browsing history?” She asked him, still laughing.

Harry's brows furrowed slightly, but he smiled along. “Huh, why? Seriously random that.”

“Random, really? I may only be half awake, but I can still see.”

“See what?”

“See Pornhub come up on your suggestions when you started typing Portugal.” Harry's face dropped instantly. Then, with a harsh slam, he shut his laptop lid. He could feel his entire body tensing up just as a blazing sensation swept across his face, hotter than he'd ever felt before. “Harry, relax! You look like you’re about to blow up!” Y/N remarked when she saw him like that. She seemed rather worried about it as she clung to his arm to try to calm him down. “Hey, look at me, this isn’t a bad thing. You don't have to-”

Before she could say anything else, Harry curled up in a ball, covered his face with his sheets and muttered, “Yes it is. It’s embarrassing.” Honestly, even that felt like a tame word to describe how he was feeling. This was, hands down, one of the most awkward circumstances he’d ever been in. He wasn't prepared to deal with it, so he chose to remain hidden and avoid further conversation.

He knew he'd have to come out at some point, but he couldn’t bear the thought of facing Y/N knowing that she knew he watched porn and wanked. It was making him feel all kinds of yucky, which was why he was a bit shocked by what happened right after.

Y/N ventured under the sheets after him, and eventually nestled into his side. The warmth felt nice, but being so close to her was weird. He liked it a lot, but it also made him feel worse at the same time, given that she'd been the catalyst for his breakdown in the first place and all that. Plus, he still couldn't wrap his head around why she wanted to touch him when he felt so icky.

Despite the fact that they were right next to each other, it took a while for one of them to venture breaking the silence. By the time Harry tried, he had a dry mouth, so he had to swallow first. “I know it’s not your fault, but I'd honestly rather you hadn't said anything because knowing you saw is making me feel really gross.”

His faltering whispers seemed to stun Y/N a little, as if she'd already accepted that they wouldn't be talking for the rest of the night. “There's no need for you to feel that way… especially not with me.” She returned his hushed words. “I wouldn't have said anything if I knew you'd get like this. I was just trying to be funny.”

“I know, but it still bothers me.” Harry was a little surprised by how at ease he felt speaking in quiet whispers while hiding under his covers. For some reason, talking to Y/N in this setting wasn’t as mortifying as he'd anticipated. “And just to be clear, I have no idea how that stupid website ended up in my suggestions. I always use incognito mode for that stuff.”

He couldn't see her, but he could feel her shrug. “You must have forgotten to open a new tab at some point. It has happened to me before.”

“Oh. So. You watch it too?”

“Doesn't everybody, at least once in a while?”

“I don’t know… I suppose they must, yeah.” They both fell quiet for a bit, but not for longer than a few breaths as Harry felt the urge to clarify something. “I don't want you to think I'm a perv, though. I don't watch it all that often… not the kind of stuff that you’re probably thinking I watch, anyway.”

“What do you think I think you watch?”

“I don’t know, like… classic, scripted porn… you know, the typical “oh no, I’m stuck!” cringe stuff that always shows up on the main page.”

“Um… I’ll be honest, you’ve always came across as more of a Hentai guy to me. And before you say anything, this isn't just me calling you a weeaboo. I’ve watched my share too and overall I think it's much better than that other porn you were talking about.”

“Yeah, fine... I'll admit that I like Hentai, but it’s not all I watch.” Harry wasn't sure why he suddenly felt so keen on sharing, but he was really enjoying their conversation. He found the topic interesting, and he'd never had the chance to discuss it with anybody in person before so… it was fun. And, on top of that, Y/N was disclosing a bit too and he liked that he was getting to know this part of her as well. “Do you know what audio porn is?” She hummed and nodded yes. “Cool, so, there’s this category called ‘guided masturbation’ that’s basically just girls talking and telling you what to do. There’s no visual content really, but it has a very intimate feel to it that I like... almost as if you're on the phone with someone.”

“That's interesting, actually. I always thought that audio porn mostly for women, since, you know... everyone says men are visual creatures.” She shifted her weight slightly, turning towards him. “But you still find real naked girls hot, right? the sight of them?”

“Well, of course. I’d be worried if that wasn’t the case.” Her question struck Harry a little, but he liked that she was acting curious and asking him things. “Honestly, I think the reason why I don't watch more regular porn is because I can't picture myself living out the fantasies. I don’t know, it’s weird to explain.”

“You can’t picture yourself in a sexy plumber costume ready to unclog a hot milf’s pipes?”

Harry snorted. “You're joking, but that's pretty much what it is.”

She hummed as she drew closer to him on the bed. This time her, placing her head into the crook of his arm. Her mouth was closer to Harry's ear in this position, although he wasn't aware of this until he heard, and felt, her whisper again. “Is that why you like it when girls tell you what to do? because it seems a little more plausible?”

Harry wasn't usually one to cuss, but shit. Hearing her whisper that somewhat snarky question so close to his ear struck a chord with him. It was freaking hot and kind of reminded him a bit of the audios he liked. Obviously, it wasn't as explicit, but it was better in many ways. A huge downside to the experience, however, was that it was extremely difficult to concentrate afterward. In fact, in the midst of his thoughts, Harry almost forgot to reply. “Um… I guess? I’m sorry, I kind of forgot what the question was.”

“No, it’s all good. I’m sure you must be getting tired.” With that, Y/N crawled out from under the covers. As she did so, her hand stumbled onto Harry’s toppled over laptop. “Oh, I didn’t even notice this was here. We should probably turn it off, right? Assuming you don't want to keep working after this.”

Harry also came out from hiding and sat up in a position similar to hers, with his legs partially covered by the covers. As his eyes re-acclimated to the brightness of the room, he massaged them a little. “Sure. I’ll just need a moment to, uh… make sure the file got saved properly, if that’s okay.”

Taking advantage of his temporary blindness, Y/N snatched his pillow from his side of the bed. She tucked it under herself and slid back under the sheets. “I've got a comfy bed already so… feel free to take as much time as you need.”

He laughed at her antics as he readjusted the laptop over his legs and opened it. Turns out the file had been autosaved, but Harry still saved it once more before switching off his computer and setting it over his desk. “Yeah, that's fine. I don’t mind giving you my bed for the night and sleeping on the air mattress for a change.”

“Or you could spare yourself and sleep right there instead of stressing about which one of us will be sleeping on the floor.”

Her offer caused his eyebrows to rise, but he wasn't sure if that was a good thing to do. He liked the idea of it but was a little concerned about accidentally doing something embarrassing in the middle of the night. What if he made a toot? Or worse, had a wet dream? He hadn't had any recently, but one never knew when it might start happening again. In any case, he'd probably wake up with a stupid morning wood as usual, which was something that he could typically make go away before he got up when Y/N was around… but if she was going to sleep next to him, wasn’t there a chance she could tell? That prospect made him terrified. “Um… I'm not sure that I'm a good sleep partner; My grandma says I used to move a lot in my sleep when I was small.”

“Oh. I don’t mind. I just really don't want to go to sleep by myself for some reason.” Y/N shrugged, leaving him unsure of what to say next. It was already difficult to say no when it wasn’t what he wanted to say, but it became nearly impossible when he looked at her and met her begging eyes.

Well then, if she was being so casual about it, he figured it must not be that common for people to do humiliating things in their sleep, contrary to what he had previously been led to believe by his insecurities. The other factor that was pushing him to say yes was that having to get up to grab the air mattress from the attic and make Y/N a bed sounded a little too demanding for how lazy he was feeling. His bed wasn't even tiny either, so they'd have plenty of room to spread out without troubling one another throughout the night. “Ok, alright. But don't grumble tomorrow about having trouble falling asleep because of me. This was entirely your idea.”  

“I don’t grumble.” He made sure to let her see his eyeroll before turning off the lights and getting into bed with a second pillow for himself. No one said anything for a bit, they were just adjusting their positions in search for the most comfortable one. Harry was still wide-awake, but he believed it wouldn't be long until Y/N fell asleep. She was already close to when they were working on the paper, so it shouldn't take long at all.

She proved him wrong, though, when she blurted out something after minutes of being quiet. “I have another question for you...”

“Oh. What’s that?”

Harry saw a shadow that he believed to be her head poking up from the pillow, propped on what should be her arm. Her voice sounded quite chirpy too, which meant he’d probably underestimated how awake and willing to chat his friend actually was. “Have you ever… like, kissed anyone?”

“That’s so random.” It was during times like these that Harry wished he could travel back in time. If he could turn back the clock and pretend to be asleep two seconds ago when Y/N asked if she could ask him a question, he wouldn’t even think twice. Heck, he'd even pretend to snore if it meant not having to respond but alas, since Harry didn’t have any time travel abilities, that wasn’t an option anymore. She knew he was awake and was anxiously awaiting his response. “You're quite random sometimes, Y/N...”

Her voice was hushed, yet a little taunting. “That’s not an answer.”

Harry sighed, realizing she wasn't going to let him off the hook until he participated in the discussion she wanted to have. “Alright, then… define kissing... does something like a peck qualify?”

“No, Harry. I'm talking about actual kissing. Tongue and all.”

“Oh um. I knew that, obviously.”

“And did you do it or not?”

“Yeah I, uh. I've kissed...” His words stumbled slightly. They didn't come out as cool or confident as he’d hoped, but he did try to make his statement sound plausible. “But it wasn’t with a lot of tongue... just like, a little bit.”

Y/N let out a snort at his unconvincing answer. “You’re a shit liar, but fine. I used to lie about it too when people asked me.” Rather than defending himself, Harry didn't say anything, which told his friend all she needed to know. “Is it something you think about, though? would you like to do it?”

“Well, yeah… of course I’d like to. Even some of the guys I hang out with have done it... and you’ve seen them.” Harry felt a bit mean making that remark about his friends' looks. Obviously, he wanted them to have someone who liked them, but that didn’t change the fact that none of them had much going in terms of physical appeal. “I'm not saying this to make you feel sorry for me. I know I’m the problem and that the reason why I haven’t kissed yet is because I’m not a kissable person. My only hope is that things will change once we start college. I don't know if I ever told you before, but I would really like to get contacts soon. I was also thinking it could be nice to start exercising more just so clothes would fit me better. What do you think? It should help, right?”

Even in total darkness, Harry could tell that Y/N's eyebrows were deeply furrowed by her tone of voice. “Who was it that told you you weren't kissable?”

“Nobody needed to tell me. I see myself every time I look in the mirror. I dress like my grandpa and have a bit of a hunch like him too.”

“I think you're mistaking being unattractive for wearing clothes that aren’t particularly flattering. It's very different.” Harry knew she couldn't see it, but he was kissing his teeth at what she’d said. “If the reason why you want to make those changes is to feel better about yourself, then you have my full support… I do, however, have a feeling that’s not all it is, so I hope you realize that you don’t have to bend over backwards to be likable or kissable, or anything else. You already are all of those things exactly as you are.”

“I appreciate you sugarcoating things in order to cheer me up but if what you are saying were true, and I was fine the way I am, I wouldn't have this much trouble finding someone who saw that in me.” He sighed, a little annoyed by her efforts. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s hard for me to believe you’ll ever understand what it feels like to be me. You’re like... the coolest, most kissable girl ever.”

There was a slight click, and suddenly the room got soaked in an orange light that caused Harry to squint despite his familiarity with it. His bedside table lamp was on, and Y/N was staring at him in awe. “You think I’m kissable?”

Crap. Had he really blurted it out that way? He couldn't recall the precise words he had used, but it seemed unlikely that Y/N was asking him that for no reason. She looked very taken aback by what she’d heard, and Harry, who still hadn't a clue how he’d managed to put his foot in it yet again, felt his face turn red and his tongue stutter once more. “Not in a weird way! Maybe I phrased it in a way that made it seem like I was being weird, but it was just a form of expression. Not that what I said isn’t true, but I would never say it like that. Even if I wanted to kiss you, which has never crossed my mind until now, really. I don't know why my brain decided to picture that ridiculous scenario all of sudden.”

“Hm.” Y/N’s gaze was drawn to her hands as he finished. Harry observed that she was picking at her nail polish, which was rather unusual for her unless she was getting nervous. “Is it really that ridiculous? I mean, if you wanted to, I wouldn't mind...”

His forehead wrinkled. “Why? Because you feel sorry for me?”

“No Harry, because I'd like to.”

“Me? You’d like to kiss me? Why?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.” Her tone was a little hesitant, but she carried on. “Aff, okay… screw it. I might as well tell you since we’re talking about it. So, I, uh. I have a bit of a thing for you. I’ve had it for a while, but it was never too serious… just a little crush since well, I never really felt like there was a real possibility that it could be reciprocated. That’s why I didn’t tell you sooner, that and because I wasn't sure how things would turn out if you rejected me so… I figured it would be best not to say anything.” She shrugged once more, as a small smile formed on her lips. “You’ve also never mentioned having any crushes or expressed attraction for anyone in particular, so I thought maybe you weren't interested in that type of stuff much.”

“Yeah, right.” Harry rolled over in bed, facing away from her. It wasn’t unusual of Y/N to play practical jokes on him from time to time, but this one did not go over well with him. It seriously screwed with his self-esteem and since it was her, he could have easily been tricked into admitting something regarding his feelings, what made it even worse. “I know you’re taking the piss and I don’t think it’s funny at all.”

“Why would I be taking the piss? Do you really think I'd joke about something like this? And look at me when I'm speaking to you!” She pulled on his shoulder, compelling him to lie onto his back so she could at least see his face.

Harry complied with her, but not without a groan. “I'm serious Y/N. If you’re trolling, this is your one chance to say so ‘cause If I find out later that you were doing this to trick me or to see me make a fool of myself or to get me flustered, I'm going to get really, really angry at you.”

“I may play a lot of dumb jokes, but I don't play with people's feelings like that… let alone my friends' feelings. I'm dead serious, Harry. It's really not that hard to see it if you think a little.” She huffed, upset that he wasn’t taking her seriously. She'd guessed he’d act a little wary at first but hadn't expected him to think she was pulling a prank on him. How could he have missed that she had a thing for him anyway, with how touchy she was when they were alone together? With her acting so eager to be his first kiss? She'd been shit at hiding it for years. It was so clear. “Do you remember that time when we were 9, my parents took us to a fancy playground with boats and there was a girl there who had a Nintendo but wouldn't let me play with it, she would only let you, so I snatched it from your hands?”

"Yeah, I remember.” As he replied, Harry was unable to stop himself from letting out small laugh at the memory. “And then you threw it in the water because you'd heard from someone at school that Nintendo’s were waterproof. All the parents got so mad, and the girl wouldn't stop crying. It was awful.”

“Yeah, that. Except, I never really thought that they were waterproof. I did it because she was pretty... and it made me upset that you’d replaced me with her and left me to play alone, despite her being mean to me.” Y/N admitted, also laughing and shaking her head a bit at her childish antics. “Obviously I didn't know back then what being jealous was, but I think about that day a lot... it makes me feel embarrassed of what I did, but it also makes me realize that I've always been really possessive of you. I think if you'd turn out to have many girlfriends you would have realized much sooner that my feelings for you weren't just friendly ones.”

“Wow. Was that really what that was?” Harry was stupefied and Y/N couldn't not giggle at his open mouthed reaction. “I’m sorry, it’s just… this whole thing is really confusing. My head is spinning a bit and... being completely honest, part of me still thinks that you’re joking but at the same time, you seem serious enough so I’m gonna choose to believe you. Even if I have no idea why you'd like me that way, other than maybe ‘cause I have green eyes and am tall.

“The hair too. Don't forget your fluffy hair.” She added playfully. “No but, I like all of those things obviously, but they aren’t the reason why I like you. I just do. There’s no logical explanation for it.”

“Yeah, um. That makes sense. I mean, not really but I think I understand that feeling you were describing and… I can kind of relate to it too since I've kind of had a small crush too since last year… or well, I've realized last year... back when you were dating that Joshua guy. It made me a little jealous. I’ve always thought it was silly though, so I tried not to think about it too much.” Harry acknowledged, albeit doing it with more trepidation and delay than Y/N had. “I've had other crushes too, but they were on girls I never talked to so... they didn’t last too long.”

“Wait so… you’ve had a crush too? since that long?”

“I- uh.. I have. Yeah.”

“You must be really good at hiding your feelings then, because I never noticed anything that suggested that, much less that you were jealous. Trust me, if I had any inkling I would’ve had this conversation with you last year instead of doing what I did. I didn���t even like Joshua much… I just wanted to have someone.” She pursed her lips in a mournful smile before reaching out for Harry's hand. It wasn’t the first time that their hands had brushed, but this time something in Harry's chest was sparked by her touch, making him feel both ecstatic and stiff at the same time. “It's nice that you've had other crushes, though. I think I'd be more upset if I found out you'd been caught up on me all this time and I'd just been completely unaware of it. With that said, I don't want you thinking about other girls now. Only me.”

“Yeah, okay. Just you. I like how that sounds a lot.” Harry had no idea what had possessed him, but he felt compelled to bring her hand to his mouth and kiss it. His gesture made her giggle, but he got somewhat self-conscious afterwards. “Was that lame? Probably, right?”

“No, it was cute. I loved it.” She reciprocated by lifting his hand to her mouth and placing a kiss over his knuckles. “Is there anywhere else you’d like me to kiss?”

With a tentative smile, he gave her a direct glance before nodding. Y/N scooted a bit closer to him but as they got closer, Harry's body tightened a little. He couldn't take his eyes off her lips, yet the sight of the rosy, fluffy cushions was giving him pause. “I’m sorry if I’m not… uh… if I don’t know how to...”

She gave his cheek a comforting caress. “That’s fine, but are you okay? You’re shaking a bit.”

Harry laughed, feeling rather frustrated with himself. “Yeah, um… sorry about that. I'm just really nervous.”

“It can wait if you're not ready.” Y/N made a point of assuring him, even though she had a feeling that waiting wasn't what Harry wanted. He was just nervous, which was totally normal for someone who was about to get their first kiss. The most she could do was try to make him a bit calmer. “Is there anything specific that you're worried about?”

“No, I’m ready. It's just a bit overwhelming. This is all so alien to me… knowing you like me and all, it’s a lot for my nervous system to handle.” Y/N couldn’t not frown a bit at how adorable he was as she listened. “I- I'm also a little in over my head, thinking I probably won’t be as good as the boys you've kissed before.”

“You don't have to worry about that, really. Trying stuff until you figure out what makes the other person melt is one of the most fun parts.” She assured, before giving his hand another kiss. “We’ll learn that from one another, okay?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

Upon his approval, Y/N pulled herself closer and higher, until her face was barely above his. They both smiled as she rubbed her nose against his... once, twice, and then it happened. She dropped her head just enough for their lips to touch.

Her tenderness and Harry's stomach-bursting butterflies were in stark contrast, making for a bizarre, yet fascinating combination of sensations.

They weren't quite in time with one another's lips but their kiss was free flowing. And it felt flawless, akin to a Vivaldi concerto or a Michelangelo masterpiece. There was something alarming about it too, however. Suddenly, Harry could feel the relatively insignificant seed of love that Y/N had planted in his heart blossom into a giant sequoia tree. And he couldn't, for the life of him, fathom the possibility of having shared a moment as nice with anyone else.

He was truly loving whatever love spell she was casting on his body with her kissing, which is why he couldn't help but let out a low whimper when he felt their lips unglue from her pulling away. “Why did you- why did you stop?”

“Your stupid glasses are getting in my way.” She explained as she carefully started pulling them off his face. “Here, much better.” As soon as she was done placing his glasses over the nightstand, she raised her leg and straddled him. Well, sort of. It was more of an embrace; except she was laying on top of him. “This is okay, right? Not too much pressure?”

“Mh-mm. Better. Thank you.” Harry's face was flushed, and he couldn't stop smiling as he stared at her. She was so pretty, and her tummy against his felt so cozy. It was still hard to believe he had kissed her, but the sensation on his lips confirmed it was real, despite how uncanny it all felt. “I like this a lot, being this close to you.”

“Me too.” She ran her fingertips across his blushing skin. “You're so cute like this. I should’ve kissed you way sooner. You seem to like it too, don't you?”

“Mh-mm. I really do.” Harry desperately wanted more kisses from her, but he was still a little too unsure of himself to initiate. Besides, he’d really liked when she took initiative earlier and led the way so that’s what he wanted to happen again. “I’d like to do it some more, if that’s okay...”

Y/N smiled at his request, but wasted no time before she leaned in to taste his lips again.

It was mostly just smooches that they were trading, but that didn’t keep her from taking a nibble here and there. Harry was very responsive to her nibbles, which she appreciated. She’d never been with a boy who got whimpery and breathy just from making out before, but she found it to be incredibly encouraging and arousing.

What made it extra hot was knowing he wasn't doing it on purpose because he knew girls liked stuff like that. It was just how his body was reacting to her. She was also well aware that her kisses had gotten him bricked up instantaneously. His warm stiffness was palpable between her thighs, despite being covered by his pajama bottoms.

If it had been any of the boys she’d kissed before, the erection would have freaked her out a bit, but as it was Harry she thought it was cute that he was so excited. He wasn't the only one feeling this way though. The damp panties she had on served as a casual reminder that she was getting quite excited as well.

Despite her wants, Y/N had been doing a great job of controlling herself… only that task became much more challenging when Harry started getting more comfortable, more intuitive, and by default, touchier. At some point in the course of their kissing, he’d started sliding his hands up her back and, on occasion, giving her hips a squeeze. He'd noticed she was pleased by this, so he worked up the nerve to lower his hands to her bum and squeeze her there too.

“Not feeling so shy anymore, are you?” Y/N playfully teased, to which Harry responded by smiling and hiding his face by pulling her in for a hug. It hadn't been her intention to rub up on him, but he’d drew her in so close that their bellies were flush together, so when she shifted next he felt it on his crotch… and moaned, all deep and throaty. They stared at each other, until Y/N turned her mouth to Harry's ear and asked, “Do you want this? want me to do it again?”

His nodding was quick. “Just don't go too fast, ‘cause uh... might feel too good.”

“Okay, got it.” She said, then held onto the pillow under Harry’s head, nails digging into fabric as she began to move slowly on top of him. Rolling her hips to press down on the bulge in his pants. The pressure on her clit was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it was a relief to finally have a way to sooth some of the built-up tension, but on the other, it made her yearn for more friction. She was being good and taking it nice and slow like Harry had asked though.

Still, she could feel his heavy, strained breathing against her skin. “Mm, it's too much, feels… too good. Ah-” He moaned again, once her fingers gripped at the roots of his hair.

“Shh, quiet.” Y/N covered his mouth and smiled. “I love your moans, but we have to keep it quiet.” She said, before removing her hand from his mouth and putting her lips in its place.

“I know, sorry.” Harry replied once she broke their kiss. “If I get loud again, you can repeat that hand thing if you want… it was hot.”

“Hmm, was it?” She returned her hand to his lips, but this time she allowed two fingers to go inside and prod into his mouth, that he was keeping slightly ajar for her. “That’s good, Harry. You're a natural at this, I think.” She had been straddling him with her body leaning over his, but she sat upright for a moment to appreciate how adorable he looked with her fingers in his mouth from farther away. As soon as he saw her eyes fixed on him, his lips encircled her fingers, and his tongue began to softly wriggle between them. “Mh-m... that's it. Just like that.”

As she started moving her hips again, Harry's hands shot to her waist, to hold her as she rutted against him. This gave her more balance, so she ramped up the pace, rubbing harder and faster to create the desired friction for her. The change caught up with Harry quickly, who began groan restlessly into her fingers in response. She pulled them off to let him speak. “S-slow... please go slower. If you don't, I'll-”

“Make a mess. I know. Give me your hands.” As per Y/N’s request, Harry slid his hands away from her waist and held them up between their bodies. Y/N took them, entwined their fingers together and then without warning, allowed her weight to fall forward, successfully pinning him to the bed. “I know you want to, but you're ashamed about doing it in your underwear. So, I was thinking… if I keep you like this and force it out of you, maybe you won't feel so bad about wanting it anymore. What do you say?”

“I just don't want to get you dirty, that's all. I thought I could keep it under control a little better, but I can't. It feels so much better than my hand.” Harry acknowledged, smiling shyly. “That sounds hot, though… the idea of you forcing it.”

“I know but don't worry about getting me dirty. I brought extra pjs.” She gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his hands. “So…you want to do it, then? Since you think it’s hot…”

A delaying groan rumbled in his throat before his lips parted into a broad smile, the kind of smile you make when you’re on the verge of breaking into laugher. “I’m going be so embarrassed about this tomorrow, but yeah. I want to.”

Y/N shook her head at him, grinning. “Don't. I've always wanted to do this. It's a bit of a fantasy of mine, I guess.” She didn’t give him a chance to react to her confession, as she started rutting against his cock again. This time she wasn’t being gentle or avoiding any harsh friction. Her movements were quicker and jerkier than they had been before, and she tightened her hold on his hands as well. She had a hunch Harry liked the feeling of being held down and used, so that's what she was doing.

He was shivering beneath her, taking fast breaths through his mouth as he looked her in the eyes. The poor baby couldn’t stay quiet for the life of him, either. His whimpers and groans were unrelenting, so she was bound to muffle him once more.

His now-free hand joined hers over his mouth, but it didn’t linger there for long since he took hold of her wrist and started guiding it downward. “My neck,” He pleaded lowly, his voice trembling. “…want your hand on my neck.”

She gave him a devilish smirk before grabbing his throat. She only needed to hold him still; there was no need to squeeze or do anything else. “And I want your cum,” she told him, hoping that slipping in a few dirty words in combination with her movements would make him snap. “…want my thighs all wet and sticky from it.”

Harry’s legs jerked beneath her. “Close,” He warned, a little startled. “So, so close…” The fact that she could not only hear him but also feel his words on his throat as he spoke was incredibly arousing. “Please…” He pled sweetly, what triggered a sudden desire in Y/N's chest to be closer. She released her hold on his throat and hugged him tight as she drove her hips into his, rutting violently to make him orgasm.

It worked.

Between her thighs, Y/N could feel his warm juices seeping through the material of her pajamas. So she kept rutting, wanting to make sure she had extracted every last drop of them.

Harry returned her tight hug all the way through his climax, and he didn’t let go after either. They remained in that position for a while, holding each other close regardless of the slightly unpleasant wetness that was binding them together. “We should probably change right?” Y/N asked after a beat, despite her lack of want to wrest away from him.

“M-hm. I’m all gross and sticky.” Harry laughed. “I’m gonna need another shower in the morning, but for now, I think I'll just wipe it off and put on new boxers. I mean if you don't mind that I don't wear pants to bed…”

“No, I don't mind. I'm gonna take mine off too.”

“Oh. That's a great idea. Sounds perfect to me.” Harry playfully quipped, before he got out of bed and started opening drawers. “Also, um… I don't know how to ask without being weird, but could you close your eyes for a moment? so I can take care of myself real quick?” Y/N said yes and turned away to give him privacy while he cleaned himself and changed. She was a tiny bit surprised that he hadn't wanted to use the restroom for that, but she figured that since it was closer to his grandparents' bedroom at the end of the corridor, he probably didn't want to risk going and waking them up. “Okay… you can look now.”

When Y/N looked at him next, the first thing she noticed was that he had on a pair of tight, black boxers. The next thing she noticed was that Harry was looking at her legs, since, as he’d probably seen when he turned, she had also stripped off her pants in the interim, leaving just her grey panties on. “What?” He smiled in response to her curious gaze.

She wouldn’t bring it up, but she could see he had grown a little hard in his boxers just from seeing her sprawled in bed with no pants on. “Nothing, you’re cute.”

Harry snorted at that. “Thanks, but you're much cuter.” He wandered across the room to where the supermarket bags were. “Are you thirsty? Do you want water or a snack? ”

“Hmm, just water if that’s okay.”

Harry handed her the water bottle and sat down on the bed next to her while she drank from it. “You didn’t cum…” he pointed out after a moment of pause.

“Oh um… yeah. I didn’t. It’s okay though.” Y/N laughed, shrugged, and took another sip of her water.

“Hmm.” Harry hummed, before scooting a little closer to her. “It must be a bit of an unpleasant feeling, no? and hard to sleep like that.”

“It is a little until it goes away but nothing that I can't handle.”

“Hm.” He hummed again, before Y/N cocked her head to kiss his lips. She’d only meant to give him a peck, but Harry changed her plans when he leaned in to kiss her deeper. He seemed really eager to continue kissing and well, she wasn't about to say no to him. Especially when he went so far as to nibble on her lip, which he hadn’t done before. He was also getting handsy with her, and she loved it. He was touching her more and focusing on the spots he'd learned she liked.

“That,” She blurted, as she paused to catch her breath. “That feels really nice.”

“M-hm.” He murmured against her lips as he kissed her again. His hand continued to grab at her as they kissed, to the point where Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She hadn’t meant to but ended up moving her knees apart out of desperation. Being so blatant almost made her feel ashamed, but she didn't because she felt Harry's palm wrap over her crotch. In response to his touch, she moaned into his mouth, and he moaned back, surprised at how her moisture had soaked through her panties. “Teach me.” He asked, softly. “I want to learn. I- um, want to make you go to sleep happy.”

“That’s so nice, Harry, really. I, um-” She smiled while wiping the tears forming in her eyes. “I’m already happy.” She didn’t know what was making her so overwhelmed with joy all of sudden. She’d always known Harry was boyfriend material, but it was still nice to see how much he gave thought to her needs and happiness. And she was happy. So, so happy to finally have him like this, all to herself. “Do you want me to show you how to touch?”

“Yes please. To make you feel good.”

“Okay.” She placed her hand on top of his. “Here,” she explained once she’d guided his fingers to the spot of her panties right above her clit. “Circular motions with your fingers feel really nice, so does pressure. You don't have to focus on just that spot though… the nicest feeling is when you rub there but also all over.” She glanced at him, then bit her lip and asked, “Wanna try?”

“Yeah, alright.” Harry responded, adjusting his position slightly so that Y/N could get more comfortable. They decided to have her sit between his legs, facing away from him since that would make it easier for her to lead him. Once they’d both settled, Harry began to touch her in the way she had showed him, moving his hand broadly enough to reach a little bit everywhere in between her legs. “Am I doing it right?”

“Mm-hmm, you're doing really good.” Y/N was still holding his hand while he touched her, and she was fascinated by the size difference between their hands. “Your hands are really big, which... makes it feel extra good.”

“Really? That’s nice. I'm definitely grateful for that.” He said while looking down as well. “Should I put more pressure, or is it okay as it is?”

“It’s fine but I wouldn’t mind a little more...” She could tell he was afraid of hurting her, and that’s why he was being so careful and gentle in his touching. She wasn’t planning on rushing him or constantly give him directions though, so instead she simply relaxed against his chest and let him probe at his own pace. Because, after all, even though he was playing safe, she was still thoroughly enjoying herself.

It took Harry a few minutes to figure out how much pressure and speed he should be using, but eventually he pressed and swirled his fingers around her sensitive nub in a way that felt just right. When Y/N’s breath faltered he glanced at her worriedly, what made her chuckle. “No, don't worry. You didn't hurt me.” She took advantage of his staring to steal a kiss from his lips. “Keep going like that.”

Harry smiled proudly at that. He’d had a feeling he was starting to get the hang of it due to the way Y/N’s breathing had become more erratic and she'd begun to quiver against him on occasion but hearing it from her mouth that he was doing a good job was much, much better. He was really looking forward to making her cum. She looked so pretty like this, flushed and a little out of breath. She'd been staring at his face a lot from over her shoulder in the last couple of minutes, biting her lip and letting out little hums of pleasure to let him know he was making her feel good.

“Like that. Don’t stop.” Those quiet, whispered words snapped him out of his reverie. He knew what they meant, even before she told him, “I’m really, really close.”

He'd learnt from a meme he saw once that when girls said that boys weren't meant to speed up or change what they were doing in the slightest, so he merely focused on adding a bit more pressure, since that was something he knew she liked, and trying to keep his hand's tempo.

Despite how hot he found it, Harry wasn't very comfortable with dirty talk, but seeing her like this and recalling the perfect, filthy words she'd said to him just before making him cum, he felt compelled to give it a shot. “I can feel how wet your panties are, it’s so hot.” He whispered into her hair. “I can smell it too and it makes me want to eat you out so bad. I've never done it before, but I can't stop thinking about doing it to you.” Rather than trying to sound hot, he was simply stating facts about how she was making him feel, and somehow it was working. “I wanna make you cum like this first though. From rubbing your little pussy this way, just like you taught me to.”

Harry's words, paired with the precise movements of his fingertips around her pussy got her right at the edge. She trembled, clutched his wrist, and strained to keep her legs open.

“Please, please, please...” She started begging out loud right before the warm pleasure bubble on her belly popped, so Harry did the same thing she’d done to him and muffled her by putting his hand over her mouth.

He hadn't anticipated being able to feel when a girl orgasmed, but he was. He could feel the strong pulse under his fingers as soon as Y/N started to cum, and it was one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced. He could also feel the damp spot on her panties becoming even more drenched as he stroked her through it and God, the smell… it was making his mouth water.

If she didn’t look so exhausted, Harry would have begged her to let him take off her panties and lick her clean, but those puffy, glossy eyes didn't permit his mind to stray any further. If there was one thing Harry understood about Y/N, it was how she looked just before falling asleep, and that was exactly how she was getting.

So he helped her into bed and lay down beside her, but his heart wouldn't let him fall asleep before he asked, “You’re staying for the entire weekend, right?” and his ears picked up a faint “M-hm” in return.

A smile spread across Harry’s face as she pulled him in for a cuddle.

This was going to be the best weekend ever.

**

[formulatrash]

You're so right, it doesn't/didn't get talked about enough that Mitch stopped his car to check on Alex after his car got turned upside down!!!!!

Sure, he wouldn't have scored points anyway, but a finish could have very well made a difference at the end of the season for the championship standings if there had been equal points with someone else...

it was such a genuinely heroic thing to do, like he clearly wasn't thinking about anything but Alex at that moment. Mitch wasn't in the points but his teammate was leading, so his priority should have been to get the car back safely and not risk anything that might mean there was a restart where Sam could lose the victory - or a disqualification for Mitch for, y'know, abandoning his car in the middle of a race track. and yeah, you're right, it could have been decisive in the title battle if it had gone to countback.

I didn't turn my recorder on when I spoke to him about it afterwards because we didn't know how Alex was at the time (he had a mildly bruised thumb, was the totality of it but he'd been taken to hospital and no one knew anything, not even the team) so I just asked him if he was ok and if he was willing to say anything about Alex. which he was, since he was perfectly fine and obviously fully conscious, a huge relief.

I did ask him about it at the next race and he just said it was the obviously right thing to do, so he did it without even thinking. only thing I can think to compare it to is George going mad and getting out of his car at Silverstone after Zhou's crash. there's a lot of press and pundits that talk about them as these cold competitors who effectively hate each other but there is real solidarity to being the 20 or 24 or even 186 people doing something no one else is. and of course being friends from childhood changes that even more.

at the time, Formula E's own communications department had sold the photos of the crash to the Sun (who were not at the race) even though we had no idea if Alex was alive, officially. Mahindra were terrified he was seriously injured and I was the only person who'd managed to speak to Mitch, so had to go and tell them he was probably ok. Alex never forgave them for selling the pictures and it made the crash the story, without the detail that turned it away from the horror, which was Mitch stopping to help him.

but I also think Mitch is just a good person. the next year in Diriyah he arrived to the (freezing, the temperature was below 0C because the desert at night and it hadn't been warm even during the day) media pen in just a t-shirt. I was a bit confused given he's one of the ones that tends to wrap up at the sight of a cloud and asked him about it, he just said he was running kind of hot. Adrian (the then-Jaguar PR) pulled me over after and I thought he was gonna tell me I couldn't use one of Mitch's answers or something but he just said "since he won't tell you, Mitch gave his coat to a local girl from the scrutineering team because she was freezing."

sometimes they are just good, the little car men.

[codfanficedits]

Don't fall in love - Part three

Summary:

You get warned not to fall in love with Ghost, but you did anyways. Turning this into a little series!

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 1122 | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: a little bit of angst - swearing - mentioning of sex and masturbation

Part one and two here.

You want to go after him, tell him you’re sorry, tell him you’re struggling to understand the feelings you’re feeling, to tell him you’re afraid that if you let him in, he will tear your whole being down and leave you defenceless. But you don’t.

Instead you watch him leave.

A feeling of loneliness, guilt, even regret washing over you. Because you’re doing to him what others had warned you about he would do to you.

On the other side of the base Simon is struggling just as much, feeling stupid that he let his walls crumble, even it is was for you. On the other side of base Simon is hurting because he really did want you to be different. Because for you, Simon had convinced Ghost to let you in. You made him nervous in all the good ways. You made him want to change, to stop chasing that feeling of being desired, so he could pretend the desire was the love he had been craving so him.

Because he wanted, no needed a life that isn’t just about needing to escape his life, and he desperately wanted you to be that life.

But you had crushed him, you had left him when he had allowed himself to be vulnerable, when he had asked you to spent the night. You had played the tricks on him he used to play on others.

So Ghost went back on what he knew best. Self-destruction in the form of using others. Self-destruction by having another woman in his bed every night. Using the poor souls to get a taste of what a life full of love could be.

And you couldn’t stand it. You hated to see how he would use the same tricks over and over again, you hated to see how they would always work. The infamous leaning against the doorway, taking off his mask or balaclava at just the right time. Showing off his bare hands, rolling up his sleeves so you could just see the right amount of muscle with his every move.

And it worked every time. It broke your heart to see how he had moved on from you. You hated how he was still the only one who could fulfil any fantasies you might have, how it was him that you were craving late at night, but how you knew someone was laying under him, getting what you so desperately craved.

But how does one take the first step after this? ‘Hey, sorry I dipped after I promised to spent the night, but you see, I have some issues so I want to hurt you before you can hurt me.’ No. No that would be no good, but it would be the truth.

‘Hey sorry I dipped and then refused to communicate like a normal person, you see, I have some issues I’m working on.’

No.

‘Hey, long time no see, I still masturbate to the sex we had, but I cry afterwards because I miss your arms around me.’

Pathetic.

‘Hey, could you give me one more chance? I’ll probably fuck it up again whenever we get into an argument because I’m afraid people will leave me all the time, but I can make you feel good for a week or two.’

Fuck. You got more issues than you realised and maybe, maybe it would be for the best that it never worked between the two of you. Maybe you were one of those people who were destined to be alone forever, never worthy of actually being loved.

But destiny had other plans for you. Destiny set the two of you up for a mission together. Destiny decided that the mission went well, the two of you secured a piece of intel, and on a mission the two of you worked together perfectly. He was great at taking charge, and you were good at following orders.

So, you just had a simple, successful mission, and now the two of you were driving back.

Just the two of you, in that goddamn car. You could see him grip the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white, while you looked out of the window of the passenger seat. Your knees pointed to the door. You wanted to get out, you wanted to avoid every possible form of communication. You could feel the tension in the air, the both of you dancing around the awkwardness that came with this.

This is why you don’t fall in love with him.

But the damage had already been done, you were already in love with him, and every passing second was a reminder that you could have had it all, but you ruined your own chances with him.

“I’m sorry.” You’re the first to break the silence and you get rewarded with a scoff.

“You’re still sorry you left that night?” His voice is sharp, and it cuts right through your soul. Your natural reaction is to go lower, to burn every single inch of him to the ground. But you’re trying to repair your damaged soul, and a better reaction is part of that.

“No.”

“Then what are you sorry for.”

“I’m sorry for treating you the way I wouldn’t want to be treated.” A weight of your chest, you feel like you can breathe a little better.

“Why did you do it?”

A valid question.

“Because I was afraid you would hurt me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I’ve seen you break the hearts of other recruits.”

“But they weren’t you.”

“No. But what made them different?”

“They don’t make me feel things like you do.”

Oh.

You find it hard to react to things like this, a part of you want to swoon at his words, beg him for forgiveness, lose a part of yourself so it can be replaced by him. Another part of you wants to keep the walls up, shut him out, tell him you’re a bad person, make him look at you the way you look at yourself.

“Don’t do this.” His voice breaks the silence.

“What?”

“Don’t go into war with yourself in your own head.”

He is reading you like a book.

“You’re like me.” He continues, Simon has kicked Ghost out again, trying to give you one more chance. “You’re afraid of getting hurt, so you hurt others before they get the chance to get to you.”

“That’s why I left that night.”

“I know, that’s why I usually kick the others out before they get the chance to stay the night.” The honest confession leaves Simons lips.

“Why me?” You must know it.

“Why not you?”

“Because I’m me.” And you don’t like yourself.

“And that’s what I want.”

[firstelevens]

No. 20 from the eras tour prompt list for sambucky ? ?

did I hear someone ask for a Sweet Home Alabama Louisiana AU? no? well I wrote the start of one anyway, so here it is

20. all your dirtiest jokes

Pebbles go flying as Bucky pulls his rental up in front of Sam’s house. He kind of wishes there was the satisfying screech of tires on asphalt to emphasize his mood, but he slams the car door twice as hard to make up for it, and feels just a little bit better afterwards.

Back when they were kids, the Wilsons’ place had been close enough to the neighbors’ houses to wave at them from the porch. The house that Sam bought when he came home from his first tour is set back a lot further than that, wooded where it doesn’t back up onto the water, so Bucky has no compunctions about getting a little shouty.

“Sam Wilson, I know you’re in there!” he calls out, walking up to the front door. “You can dodge my calls as long as you want, but I’m not going anywhere until you open up.”

It’s not a big house, and there’s at least three open windows, so there’s no question that Bucky’s voice is carrying through loud and clear, but there’s no response. Bucky raps sharply on the doorframe.

“You can’t avoid me forever, Sam. I know this town just as well as you do, and I will follow you everywhere.”

It takes another five minutes, but finally, Bucky sees a figure approaching through the frosted glass pane on the front door. When it swings open, he’s met with a bare-chested Sam Wilson, breathing heavy from a workout as he pulls his earbuds out of his ears.

For all that he was yelling a second ago, Bucky suddenly can’t seem to make words come out of his mouth. To add insult to injury, Sam seems perfectly unaffected by the sight of him, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Bucky Barnes,” he drawls, and Bucky hates how comforting that voice still is after all this time. “What can I do for you?”

In a second, the ire comes flickering back to life. The nerve of Sam, to ask that question when he knows perfectly well the only thing that Bucky’s been asking him for for the past year.

He holds up the envelope that’s the whole reason he had to drag his ass back here, a thousand miles and twenty years removed from home.

“You could start by giving me a fucking divorce.”

Bucky spent so long working himself up over this, back in New York and on the plane here and on the almost-two-hour drive from New Orleans. He’d written and rewritten a hundred different speeches, rehearsed so many arguments with the Sam in his head that he was sure he’d know exactly what to say.

But now he was here, and he’d gone and delivered what should’ve been the last line of his scathing speech way too early, and what more was there to do except stand there on Sam’s porch and glare at him expectantly?

Sam, for his part, looks at Bucky consideringly for a moment, then peers around him to look out towards the yard. “You should come inside,” he says, and then steps away, leaving the door open.

The petty part of Bucky wants to refuse, wants to make a nuisance of himself right here on the porch so Sam can’t ignore him, but then he stops to take in his surroundings for longer than a second. The air is thick, the heat more sluggish than it was when his flight touched down. Beyond the trees, the sky has gotten darker. It’s been a while since Bucky lived on the bayou, but the signs of an oncoming storm haven’t changed.

He huffs and steps into Sam’s house, closing the door behind him just as thunder rumbles in the distance. It’s cooler inside, at least, and as Sam moves further into the house, Bucky figures he’s supposed to follow. He’s still not completely over his need to be a nuisance—or so he tells himself—so he goes slowly, glancing around at the house that Sam bought long after Bucky wasn’t a part of his life anymore.

Bucky knows it’s a completely different building, but part of him still expects that it’ll be the house that Sam grew up in, all warm wood and quiet chaos. Somewhere in his head, he thinks that if he just went up that staircase in front of him, he’d end up in Sam’s childhood bedroom, sixteen years old and laid out on the floor with the boombox between them, laughing at the dirty jokes that Sam heard in senior calc or trying to figure out just what the deal was between their grade’s latest on-again, off-again couple.

But this isn’t that house, Bucky reminds himself, and this isn’t back then. He’s not looking to go back in time; he just wants to go forwards, and he could if Sam would just cooperate.

“What happened, you get lost in that hallway?” asks Sam, when Bucky finally makes it to the kitchen. He doesn’t bother answering, but Sam’s back is to him, so there’s no way to tell whether he’s even noticed. “Hey, cream and no sugar, right?”

“What?”

Sam turns around with a mug of coffee in his hand, and Bucky’s pretty sure he can’t hide how he immediately perks up when the cup is set in front of him. For a second, he thinks about telling Sam that he does take sugar now, just to be contrarian, but then he remembers he’d actually have to drink it and throws that plan out the window.

“This is fine, thanks,” he eventually says, setting the envelope on the island and picking up the coffee. He hasn’t had caffeine since before his flight this morning, and he can feel the first sip right down to his toes. His eyes actually close for a second, and when he opens them, Sam is back on the other side of the counter, looking amused. There’s no mug in his hands.

“You’re not having any?” Bucky asks. “What’d you do, poison it?” 

Even if he did, Bucky’s not convinced he’d be able to put it down. It’s really good coffee.

“I will,” says Sam. “But my Mama would kill me if I entertained company like this, so I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home; the view’s nice from the family room if you missed the water.”

He breezes out before Bucky can argue, his footsteps thudding up the stairs between one sip of coffee and the next.

After a moment of looking around incredulously, waiting to see if maybe he’s being pranked, Bucky decides this is just Sam trying to annoy him into leaving, and he won’t let it work. He marches into the family room just as the rain starts in earnest, and just to spite Sam, he turns his back to the French doors and surveys the rest of the room. There’s art hanging up, intermingled with family photos. Lumpy ceramics that are definitely grade school art projects sit beside beautiful crystalline sculptures, tall and spiky and somehow familiar.

Along one of the walls is the credenza that Bucky recognizes from Sam’s parents’ house, the one that Mr. Wilson had hauled home from an estate sale and refinished just because Sam’s mother had lingered beside it for a few seconds longer than anything else. It’s a different color now than it was before, but Bucky would recognize it anywhere. Sitting on top of it are what Bucky guesses are the important photos: Sarah’s wedding, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson on the boat together, Sam with a toddler beside him and a baby in his arms. 

Furthest to the left is a picture of the dock behind the Wilson house. Two figures sit at the end of it, leaning into each other in the sunshine. One of them wears a t-shirt, gangly arms braced behind them. The other has a letterman jacket on, and that’s what tips Bucky off when he picks up the frame to look at it more closely: that’s him and Sam, sitting out where they did almost every day after school. Sam had gotten his varsity jacket for the baseball team when they were sophomores, and Bucky was pretty sure he’d worn it more often than Sam had. He’d always liked the way it felt on his shoulders, and when fall rolled around and the wind blew in a little cooler off the water, Sam always passed it over to him without needing to be asked.

They’d gotten a little more refined, once driver’s licenses were acquired and curfews were lengthened. Sam would drive the Wilsons’ old pickup truck a little ways out of town, to an empty plot of land flanked by trees on one side and water on the other, and they would sit and soak up the wind off the water until they could both breathe a little easier. Bucky had started thinking of it as their piece of the island, the safest place he could ever remember being.

When the future had barreled towards them with no signs of stopping, it was where Sam had driven them, nothing around but the birds in the trees when he quietly suggested his plan for getting out of Delacroix and taking Bucky with him. Nobody else had been around to see Bucky fling his arms around Sam’s neck and whisper a muffled yes into his shoulder, either: both of them a little bit scared of the future but determined to make it better for each other.

Maybe they can be reasonable about this. Maybe he and Sam can look at each other and see exactly what the other person needs, the way they did when they were younger. Maybe there don’t have to be questions and discussions and the kind of passive aggressive emails they’ve been exchanging through lawyers for the past year.

The rain is still coming down hard, lulling Bucky into a daze, so he can’t be blamed for the way he startles when Sam’s voice sounds from behind him. He scrambles to grab the picture frame before it falls out of his hands, setting it down and taking a beat before he turns around.

Sam is holding the envelope with the divorce papers in his hands, but Bucky has seen his ‘I give up’ face and that definitely isn’t it.

“The entire year that we’ve been going over this, I’ve asked you the same question, over and over, and you’ve never answered,” Sam says.

“Fuck,” says Bucky, scrubbing a hand down his face. “This? Again?”

“Yeah, again,” says Sam. “Because if I’m getting a divorce, I at least deserve to know why. I deserve to know what changed.”

“I have told you every single time you asked, Sam. Nothing changed. Nothing changed, because this was never a real marriage, and you know that. We got married so we could both get the fuck out of this town, and so I could stop being so terrified all the time, and we did that, and now we’re done.”

Sam crosses his arms, setting his jaw, and it occurs to Bucky that this is the first battle of a long war. “We did all that fifteen years ago, easy. That’s not what this is about. What changed, Buck?”

But Bucky can’t answer Sam any more now than he could the first time he asked that question a year ago. He can’t remind Sam of all the things he missed out on because he was tied to Bucky, he can’t bring up Riley or Sam’s parents or all the little ways that Bucky managed to steal things from him without even trying, because Sam would never see it. Even now, squaring off against each other with no possible middle ground, Sam would never see it, so Bucky can’t say it.

“Just sign the damn papers, Sam,” is what Bucky says instead.

It’s the first time he’s ever evaded the question in person. Somehow when he pictured Sam reading all those emails and messages he’d sent, Bucky had never imagined a flicker of disappointment on his face, gone as soon as it appeared.

Sam turns to set the envelope on an end table and picks up a wristwatch from beside it, doing up the strap before he turns around again. When he does, he’s got a determinedly cheerful smile on his face, the kind that Bucky has always known meant trouble.

“Gee, Buck, I wish I could, but as it happens, I’m running late for something,” he says, with an exaggerated look at his watch. “Maybe later?”

He’s already heading for the door, leaving Bucky to hurry after him. “What do you mean you’re late for something? Where the fuck are you going in a hurricane?”

Sam snorts. “You’ve been away too long. This is barely even a storm.”

An enormous crack of lightning punctuates his words, and Bucky raises his eyebrows.

“It’s a drizzle,” says Sam, pulling on a jacket. “And I have a date.”

Bucky is not entirely prepared for the feelings that those words stoke in his chest, but worse still is what Sam calls out before the door swings shut behind him.

“Guest bedroom’s upstairs, second door on the left. Don’t wait up.”

He’s not entirely sure how much time he loses, fuming in the foyer of Sam’s house, but eventually, that rage sharpens into something else entirely as he remembers what he yelled out standing on Sam’s porch half an hour ago.

He knows this town just as well as Sam does.

He knows this town just as well as Sam does, and unless fifty years of corporate development hit Delacroix in the last fifteen, there’s only one place to take a date if you’re an adult who doesn’t want to get accosted by the entire senior population of the island over the course of your evening.

Bucky pulls his keys from his pocket and and umbrella from Sam’s coat closet. If Sam means to drag this out, Bucky’s going to make sure he feels every single second, until he decides for himself that this marriage is more trouble than it’s worth.

(And if, before he leaves, he swaps his comfortable traveling clothes for a short sleeved button down that’s a size too small and not buttoned enough, well, nobody ever said Bucky was perfect.)

[darkleysgarden]

Hello can you post facts about Lucifer?

I'm gonna be honest, I really only do the Asmo one because I'm a huge fan of his and like to try and challenge myself to know more and more about him. But, ofc. For you I will. But, it won't be ongoing and it will be shorter. Also, for anyone else reading this, please don't flood my asks with every character. I don't plan and don't want to do everyone.

Lucifer Facts

1. He frequently tells Diavolo all about his brothers. This even goes as far as Belphie's favorite napping spot from back in the Celestial Realm!

2. He's mostly left-handed as that is the hand he's shown writing with in multiple official arts. Though, he's also been seen using his right, proving he's ambidextrous.

3. Even if people consider him to be harsh or unjust, he really loves his brothers and is always there for him. He literally brought Satan back from a panic attack about their similarities, highlighting their differences.

4. Mammon is his favorite brother.

5. Diavolo likes to look back at the time they meant and recount it fondly. Lucifer hates it and gets embarrassed. He also gets embarrassed if Diavolo compliments him "in public".

6. Simeon says that Lucifer is the most comfortable he's ever seen him in the Devildom, specifically around Diavolo.

7. His June 6th birthday makes him a Gemini.

8. Lucifer attends most of Asmo's Asmo gatherings.

9. When he tore away his wings to create Satan, it was all six of them, not just two. Though, four grew back.

10. Lucifer is considered to be incredibly beautiful.

11. Lucifer has many fans, maybe even equal to Asmodeus. Though, they usually don't approach him or send as much fanmail out of fear. He still receives plenty fanmail anyway.

12. He doesn't like technopop music.

13. He prefers his tea strong.

14. Levi isn't the only one who rambles. Catch Lucifer after he watches a good play, and he will talk your ear off and constantly quote bits.

15. He can play multiple instruments. This includes violin, guitar, and piano.

16. When Lucifer admits to meeting Lilith's past lover, he is made fun of by his brothers for being overprotective. He is left a blushing, embarrassed mess afterwards.

17. He is the vice president of the student council.

18. Mammon's first car was actually bought with hard-earned money. Though Mammon couldn't get the car he wanted at first as it was only limited edition. Lucifer pulled some strings through Diavolo and was able to secretly help Mammon get it. Mammon didn't even know until Lucifer lost his memory in around lesson 30-40.

19. When Diavolo finds out about Christmas from MC, he wishes to go all out for the holiday. Lucifer gets incredibly mad at MC because that will only cause more work for him.

20. Lucifer acts extremely goofy when drunk. He frequently sends out drunk texts, usually there MC.

[moonshinemusings]

General König headcanons (Pt.1)

Warnings: mentions of canon typical violence, anxiety, overthinking

A/N: he's such a great character, even if 90% of his personality is fanon. Also this is a bit long sorry, he's occupying half of my thoughts

• His anxiety makes him a little awkward around people, since he tends to stumble over words and fidget with his hands. With new people/strangers it's kind of a feat for him to get the words out, but he's already way better than how he used to be. The military - surprisingly or not - helped his self-esteem

• That doesn't mean he's not capable of holding a conversation though. Once he starts rambling, it's straight up hard to get him to stop talking. Not to mention he's an amazing listener, the kind who asks questions or pipes up here and there

• Once he's comfortable enough around someone, he won't stop cracking jokes and being his cheeky self. He's actually funny I promise

• He's a sassy little shit, but only when high on adrenaline or worked up. When he doesn't have to think, just act works way better for him, even if he gets embarrassed about the things he said afterwards

• Pretty sure he has ADHD with all the restless energy and fidgeting. I also think his body reacts to caffeine the same way mine does: he just gets even more sluggish and tired

• However, don't give him sugary drinks like coke, because that makes him even more jumpy and overanxious. He can never seem to figure out what to do with the plus energy that runs in his veins

• He overthinks so much it's a problem. His brain is constantly asking itself if what he's about to do will be good enough, if what he said wasn't awkward, if something he did was inaccurate or not

• Thanks so that he zones out often, just staring into the open world. Most of the time he doesn't mean to stare at anyone, he's just thinking and lost in his own head

• Despite all of that, he's really skilled at what he does. None of his anxiety slips into the field, he always works efficiently and without failure. He either overthinks before missions or after them, but the adrenaline makes him almost a completely different person

• König adores animals (much more than people). He can often be seen with strays, feeding them between missions if he's able and petting them

• Absolutely hates public transport and he's really glad he basically never has to use it (people stare at him because of his height in public enough anyways, thank you so much)

• He loves oranges and other citrus fruits. There is no deep reason for this really

• He doesn't sleep all that much because his brain likes to keep him up at ungodly hours, but he deals with exhaustion fairly well (the years of routine)

• Sometimes when it does get to him, he has to get away and be alone, otherwise he would get a breakdown in public

• He cries more than he likes to admit, but it's a quick way to get the emotions out of his system (next to training ofc)

• His favourite season is winter. He grew up in Austria where it's generally chilly, so he's used to the cold. Not to mention how happy he gets when seeing snow (and celebrating Christmas)

• He loves getting cozy under warm blankets; the warmth and added weight makes him feel safe and comfortable. It usually only takes a few minutes for him to fall asleep this way, because his brain quiets down

• He constantly bumps into stuff and never fails to apologize or curse at them (yes, to/at inanimate objects)

• That also includes bumping his head into doorframes. No, it's not funny anymore

• Loves flowers. As a kid he used to be allergic to some of them, but he somehow grew out of it

• Loves colorful stuff, be it pillows, candy, clothes etc. He only has a few things like that with him at work, but his room at home is full of colors

• Loooves those sticky notes with silly shapes, especially when they are animals

• Really enjoys roadtrips. He loves nature and being out calms him, not to mention how good he sleeps on the backseats of cars

• He almost constantly has some kind of cold or stuffed nose, but it doesn't affect his work or mood in any way anymore

• He has very specific taste in music, food, literature etc, he just doesn't often share his opinion on things, only if someone directly asks. After years of bullying, he learned not to speak his mind. Fortunately as more time goes by, he gradually unlearns that and talks about himself more bravely

• Hates confrontation and tries to never get into any form of arguments

• When he yawns, his jaw makes a weird clicking noise

• Enjoys comic books and as a kid he used to collect a bunch of them

• He has a tattoo somewhere on his body where it's not visible in clothes. It's most likely either his favourite quote, or something that means much to him

• He's a fast learner. König is quick to pick up on stuff when it comes to fighting techniques, crafting stuff or noticing someone's mannerisms. He struggles a bit with languages, but he's trying his best

• I have no idea about the canon part, but in my head he's always going to be left handed

• He's an introvert, prefers to spend time alone or with people close to him. Likes going outdoors when it's something to do with nature (hikes, walks in the park etc.), but would rather not socialize

• Surprisingly good at handling spicy food, although he rarely eats them

[thatgirl4815]

I was wondering why in the honest conversation scene in the river Ray said Mew doesn't know that Sand and him are still banging (and Sand doesn't deny this and also adds the secret lover term).

But when did that happen? After the conversation in the beginning of ep 8 in front of the bar it was shown that Sand always rejected Ray's attempts to spend time with him or was ambiguous (scene with music for kids). When do you think did they sleep together from the timespan beginning of ep 8 up to the conversation In the river?

I'm asking because if

A) they slept together after Sand agreed offscreen to accompanying Ray to his social service and they hook up after that, then the scene at the party where Ray gets in between Sand and the other Freddie makes more sense at least in Rays reasoning. And everytime else afterwards when Ray was pestering Sand is also kind of logical for Ray,

B) if they hooked up after the angry kiss in ep 9 then at least it explains Rays pushy by behaviour when calling Sand after his fight with New.

But why does it seem to me that the show is doing a shitty job to showcase Rays own reasoning in pestering Sand up until the statement New doesn't know we still sleep together. It would mean much less hate from the audience to Ray if it's handled better me thinks.

I’ve been grappling with this too because for me, it doesn’t make sense for them to have slept together post episode 5 except in maybe a few cases. Sand was upset thinking Ray liked Mew, then Ray got into the car accident, then they reconciled briefly (something could’ve happened between them right after the car crash before RayMew canon), and then the fight at the Halloween party, etc. That doesn’t leave much room for it.

If they hooked up after their angry kiss/talk about Ray’s social service, why does the love scene in Ep9 feel so much like a reconciliation? The only thing that doesn’t check out to me is that conversation in the river. But it got me thinking…what if the span of time they’re referring to where they slept together while Ray was with Mew was right after RayMew happened? There could’ve been a space of time between RayMew happening and Sand finding out about it where Ray was maintaining his relationship with Sand while “trying things out” with Mew. That could be one of the additional reasons why Sand is so upset with Ray about the whole thing. I’ve always thought Sand wouldn’t sleep with Ray if he knew Ray was with Mew, so if this is the case, then Sand would’ve been ignorant too.

I realize Ray saying “He doesn’t know we’re still sleeping together” could imply that they’ve been together more recently than that. But for me, it would lessen the impact of the love scene in Ep9 immensely if they’ve been together since Sand found out about RayMew. I also still can’t imagine Sand consenting to it given how many times he’s made comments like “Why do you need me? You have Mew now.” I can see him telling Ray to go off with Mew rather than pester him.

So yeah, anyways, I myself am a bit confused about the span of time being referenced in this conversation.

[mariabtsos]

One That I Want ||m.yg|| – Chapter 8: 10 Cents

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Description: It is summer of 1956, and leader of the T-Birds Yoongi is working at a food joint at the beach to make extra money over the summer, when he meets a pretty girl. They start a summer fling that unfortunately had to come to end, but an unexpected turn of events will bring them back together.

Genre: 1950s au, angst, fluff, some smut, Greaser!Yoongi x Square/Goody-Two-Shoes!OC.

TW: underage drinking and smoking, sexual content, violence, misogyny (it’s the 1950s so peak macho man era).

Word Count: 1.3k+

Meanwhile, the T-birds were trying to encourage their leader to call for his girl. But what would Yoongi even say? "I'm sorry for lying to you, but I wanted to protect my reputation as a greaser and player?" He knew she wouldn’t take him seriously.

"Come on hyung, didn't you wanna talk to her?" Namjoon asked him.

"You know what, I changed my mind, this was a dumb idea."

"Well then how about you call for her Jiminie?" Hoseok giggled, taking a swig from his beer. And the youngest wasted no time, getting up on the seat and reciting what he could remember from his drama class a few years back.

"Oh, Lottie, wherefore art thou Lo-" he was interrupted by Yoongi punching and slapping him, eventually pulling on his jacket so he would sit down.

Kim and Nayeon went up to the window. "Is it the guys?" Jiyoon asked, "it is! They can't come up here, my folks would kill me if I had any boys up in my room," Nayeon said.

"Hey Joon!" Kim greeted the second in command flirtatiously. "Hey! You wanna get down here?!" He asked her.

"Sure, but get rid of all your friends," she smiled, seeing the cat-eyed boy there, she wanted to rub a little salt on the wound, Lottie didn’t like her anyway, "that includes you Min!" She called for him.

He chuckled sarcastically, "good, sloppy seconds ain't my style," he yelled back. Hearing Yoongi's voice made Lottie's heart skip a beat, and gosh she hated herself for that. Kim, on the other hand felt a bit offended, did she sleep around? Maybe, but she wasn't sloppy seconds.

"So, what are you goin' to do flog your log?"

"I've done worse," he deadpanned, getting out of the car to walk home, "have fun, Namjoonah," he patted his best friend's shoulder and walked away. The aforementioned nodded and looked back up at the window where his girl was. "I'm still here!"

And as much as Kim felt bitter, she decided getting Yoongi's attention was the dumbest thing she could, she had guys lining up, begging for chance, she wasn't going to let herself be held back by anyone, Yoongi could keep the goody two shoes foreigner if he wanted to. She walked away from the window and walked to the chair where she had set down her stuff.

"You lot are too square for my taste," she said, putting on her shorts and shoes, "I'm gonna go get my kicks on while I still can," she took a quick look in the mirror and fixed her hair quickly.

"What are you gonna do?" Nayeon took a hold of Kim's arm, "Shimmy down the drain pipe?"

Kim smirked, not bothering to reply as she carefully made her way down said drain pipe to Nayeon's horror, she watched her friend get in the car with Namjoon, Kim gave one more glance at the window where she saw her friend had already disappeared into the house.

Namjoon began driving off, his right arm resting behind Kim’s shoulders, the aforementioned stole a couple of glances at the handsome young man, a smirk adorning his face. Through the years, Kim had always kept an eye on Namjoon, even before both groups had risen through the ranks, he had always been an intriguing case, she had caught him more than once reading poetry books, or the occasional sea creature encyclopedias. Namjoon on the other hand, hadn’t really paid any mind to Kim until this summer, after Yoongi had broken things off with her, they had a short little fling, and afterwards would still flirtatious glances, and compliments, he couldn’t have been happier when his best friend had told him to have fun, an indirect greenlight for him to go after Kim.

Once they got to lover’s lane, it didn’t take long for them to talk a bit more, discussing things they usually wouldn’t with their friends, until they started what the place was most frequented for, necking. The pretty view of Seoul long forgotten as Namjoon trailed kissed up and down Kim’s neck, the latter huffing and letting small moans come out of her. Hands trailed other places, the intentions behind what they were going to be doing more and more clear.

“God Kim, you are so good baby,” Namjoon groaned after she had been sucking along his neck while calming him through his jeans.

“Call me by my first name,” she requested.

“Um…” Namjoon drew a blank as he continued kissing her neck. How had her name not come up in conversation, wasn't Kim her first name? People called her that so much it was easy to assume it was.

“Jennie,” she pushed him off momentarily, a bit flushed from embarrassment and a lot from what they were doing prior to this kerfuffle.

“Jennie-ah” he said softly as he went back to attacking her neck, the way he said her name made Kim feel a fluttering in her stomach, he made it sound like a beautiful secret.

“Hey baby, you got something?” She sighed, not needing or wanting any ankle biters right now. Namjoon chuckled, moving away slightly so that he could dig in his back pocket.

“My 10 cent insurance policy,” he said as he pulled out the foil packet, starting to tear it open so they could get on with it, “Ooo, a big spender huh?” Jennie giggled as she stretched, grateful that they had moved to the back seat once their make out got more heated.

Namjoon, however, looked like a kid who had their candy taken away, he looked up to Jennie and her little smile dropped, “it broke.”

“What?! What'd ya mean it broke?” She asked in disbelief.

Namjoon sheepishly chuckled as he rubbed his neck, “I bought it in the 7th grade, when we first got that lesson on diseases?” He explained, “but I never used it because my older brother told me pulling out is better.”

“Jeez, then I'm shocked you ain't got a little one by now,” she said slightly annoyed, she had really wanted for this to happen.

Even if she known as someone “fast” she had always been safe, since there wasn't a way for her to protect herself, she made sure her lovers could, and now that was out of the question. The thing was… Namjoon was different, she'd known him forever! He was something she wanted and she wanted him bad.

“What the hell,” she got right back into necking, it took Namjoon a second to react, surprised at first, but he kissed her back in no time, this will happen she told herself; Namjoon had started to unbutton her plum colored blouse when the car was hit.

Needless to say Namjoon was pissed.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!” He turned and yelled, finding Jaebeom in the driver's seat and Jackson in the back, both of their chicks sitting next to them.

“You need to learn how to read Namjoon-ah, that right there says no parking zone,” Jaebeom chuckled in a condescending tone.

“The whole place is a no parking-zone you damn nosebleed.” Namjoon's jaw was locked, and Kim could see his tongue against his cheek, “You're gonna pay me back for this!” His back bumper was loose and his rear light glass broken.

Jackson and Jaebeom looked at each other and laughed. “We'll give 10 cents for the entire thing, including your chick,” Jackson winked at Kim before they drove off, laughing loudly at the couple. Namjoon looked even angrier, and if she hadn't been insulted just then, she's sure we would've flipped her lid and came just from the sight alone.

After a minute or two of Namjoon huffing and puffing, Kim decided she still wanted her world rocked, “I don't know ‘bout you, but my motor's still runnin’” she smirked, and they got right back to it.

[cybermeep]

attended graduation. surprisingly cried less than i was anticipating, at least during the event. cried a bit afterwards, mix of realization & fear of not being able to get home safely. i did, luckily… my mother eventually came. wore a suit & tie, specifically the tie my friend gifted to me. heated up like a car in front of the sun. brought a drink since i knew if i didnt id maybe faint because of heat exhaustion. more likely nausea.

sat with an acquaintance, rambled to her. felt sick during most of the ceremony. almost puked, uh… three times. nerves hit like a brick wall. literally. nauseous because of nervousness. wanted to yell & holler but i dont have the voice for that. simple quiet ‘yay’ syllables had to suffice. brought sheldon & wiffle & chiquitito. gave chiquitito a bath before i left. got ready an hour or so early. sat outside & looked at birds in the meantime

in an ideal world i am very smart & funny & talented & talk to everyone & perfect. in an ideal world i dont get so worried my body physically shuts down. in an ideal world, i would be able to say something as simple as, “oh my gosh, i’m so happy for you! take care!” without bile festering. i try to live in this ideal world, try to be the best i can, but ive learned this is really really hard for me to do because frankly i am quite stupid. i know this is a haha funny joke 70% of the time but if i actually start gagging on nothing i know it’s probably a bad sign and i should stop overworking myself lest i actually do puke. it would not be very appealing to throw up in front of a plethora of my peers & their families. god…..

don’t even.. don’t.

[head in hands]

fine. FOR THE SAKE OF JOURNALISM! nothing else.

“I FUCKING— I HATE THEM. SO MUCH. I’M SORRY, I KNOW THATS MEAN—“

mother & other party member: “ITS NOT MEAN.”

[still reeling from remnants of stomach acid (as i did not eat anything in the morning when i took my meds which probably doesnt help this, although i didnt wanna eat then puke up whatever food it was i ate there either)] “I’M JUST— UGH! I’M SO FUCKING, I’M SO MAD.”

snippet of conversation. back seat with extra space just because. emotional & still nauseous. almost cry on the way home because of these weird things called human emotions, tears only well up; don’t actually fall. ramble to a man who knows a lot of people. miscellaneous conversations follow, like the one where i ask him if he can do anything about my favorite teacher being laid off. he says he’ll try. he…. how do i say this… knows… many individuals…. hes nice, slowly grown more used to his presence. i think if i cried with tears and snot long enough he’d be able to do many things, which is crazy & absurd but genuinely accurate. scarily accurate.

home, sitting outside & watching birds feed from the bird feeder. emptied it while i was gone. northern flicker, blue jay, blue-capped chickadee, common grackle, tufted titmouse… a wide variety. sprinkle some seeds on the ground for both squirrels & robins since they seem to not use the bird feeder much. robin right in front of me now, actually [was when i was typing this sentence]

i only made one note / doodle in my notebook during the event, but with words written & context applied its maybe better i don’t share it. saying…. heated words….. from a person that dislikes being rude unless someone is genuinely vile, is not as vague as one thinks they are. still, its pretty funny to imagine me being violent… slap thing was genuinely the first time i ever put my hands on someone like that

anyway, now theres three grackles near my bird feeder. two underneath. they’re so cute its almost upsetting, except its not. its quite nice to feel less alone

something something hi there something something oh hey i said everything now. i should probably lay down before my stomach gets worse

really happy i went, though. wouldn’t miss it for the world

[t-h-i-n-g]

2 with Robin Buckley pls

a/n: j names are always a red flag. Live by that.

word count: 400+

200 followers event masterlist

2."Hold on, let me fix this for you."

"I hate these stupid formal events."

"It's just a wedding, Robin. We can talk a little, mingle a bit, and get out of there."

"Whose is it again?" She questioned in a mumble. You rolled you eyes playfully and chuckled.

"Your cousin's."

"Joshua's, right. I don't even like Joshua, his fiance's a price too. Why the hell are we going?" she grumbled, staring into her reflection. Her eyes flickered to you and your attire, lingering for a moment. Your eyes met hers and you quirked a brow. She chuckled and turned back to her own situation.

This dumb tie she couldnt get right. How did it go? Over, under, over again, loop, loop? Well obviously not that cause now she has a pretzel of a tie. Your chuckle was heard next to her.

"Hold on, let me fix this for you," you murmur, pulling her by the atrocious object. A light 'oomph' left Robin's lips at the force. Her eyes followed your actions. Watching as your hands looped and pulled until a proper tie was shown.

"Where'd you learn how to do this?" She asked as you tighten the fabric.

"The kids during their snowball they didn't know what the heck to do, so I researched it. And cause Steve didn't know what the hell he was doing. I was the only option." You chuckled at the memory. "I had to give him a tutorial afterward when they all ran into the school." Robin pictured Steve in this same situation. Fumbling with his hands to follow your actions.

"That must have been a sight." Nodding, you brought your hands up to her hair. Adjusting a few falling strands and pushing them back.

"It took half an hour just to show him how to get the loop right." Robin let out a smort.

"I would've loved to be there."

"Yeah you would've," you agreed, grabbing your hand bag and walking out of your bedroom door. "Should we bring snacks for the ride back?" You questioned.

"We can," Robin shrugged. Entering the kitchen the both of you looked into your pantry and pulled out a few bags of chips. As well as a container of Oreos. She placed them under her arm and exited out the front door. Once settled in the car you both tossed the objects into the back seat.

"Why don't you like Joshua anyway?" You asked, placing your hand behind Robin's seat to watch your view when backing up.

"He always whined at family Christmases about gifts. Nothing was ever enough for him."

"So you think he'll be ticked off at the card we got them."

"Probably but it's his fault if he wants to throw a hissy fit at his own wedding."

[butimnotasexyrussian]

Wait you texted your boss you love her?! Say more right now 👀

Wait, holy shit do I have access to my inbox again? FUCK YEAH. My messages are still missing and Tumblr is still not letting me reply to any posts but this is definitely a step up.

Anyway.

Gather round, children, and let me tell you about the dumbest shit I've pulled at work thus far.

I'm generally very quiet. So not even 3 months into this new job where I have no idea what's happening and I am NOT friends with my boss who I kinda/sorta idolize, there's a work outing at the state fair.

It's a good time. We get sorted into teams to do a scavenger hunt and then there's a division wide happy hour afterwards. I have a few drinks at happy hour and I'm chatting with people who I don't know. It's all good.

The calendar hold was only until 5 so I figure I'll leave then. But I get roped in with a group (including my boss) to go to a secondary location. I don't realize until later that it's past 5 so most of the people who have kids and families to get back to have left. At this point, I'm maybe 3-4 drinks in? And 3-4 drink me is when I get loud and aggressive and touchy.

Here, I loudly proclaimed that I was tipsy and it was everyone's responsibility to take advantage of me so I'd be buying drinks. After the first round, my boss tried to buy and I hip-checked her out of the way multiple times to hand my credit card to the server. She said, "Stop buying me drinks! I've seen your paycheck. You can't afford this!" And I said, "Shut the fuck up and tell me what you wanna drink."

This went on for like 5 more hours. I physically did not let her buy me anything. I told her I'd beat her up if she did. At one point, I got on the ground and did pushups? It was nice to see her outside the office where she seems more human and sometimes she hates her job too instead of the polished LinkedIn persona I feel like everyone has in corporate. One of her gripes is that she's been turned down for a raise multiple times despite doing a shit ton of work.

What you need to know about me is that if I decide I like you, we ride or die now (whether or not you want me to be. There's no gift receipt for this bitch). So of course I got very indignant on her behalf and said I'd beat up her boss because how DARE he deny her anything, especially when she carries the team on her back (my words, not hers). And then she was like, "I could do better as a manager" and I told her to shut up because she's amazing. But she wouldn't accept it and I was full blown drunk at this point so the logical conclusion was to hug her and kiss her on the cheek? She went oh! and laughed a little but she was definitely not as drunk as I was because she has like pure Nordic blood and my one saving grace is that I don't get the Asian glow.

After that, we got separated. (The day after she said she went to get fried pickles and thought I was right behind her.) Instead, I got swept out the exit with the rest of the crowd. I was drunk but cognizant enough to be like, hey I should tell her where I am since I didn't say bye. Which is when I sent her this:

And also this:

The drinks were catching up with me now so I called my mom to pick me up at the bus stop. I'd laid down on the grass to try to stop everything from spinning so much and also thrown up a bit. I didn't think it was that bad but my mom says I looked awful tottering over to the car, wiping my mouth and covered in dry grass.

I'm at the age where if I drink too much, I can't sleep and I never black out (which is good), so I spent the entire night replaying memories in 4K and thinking, why the FUCK would I say/do that? Also this was a Wednesday, so I had to fucking go into work the next day.

The I love you part is embarrassing but fine. Threatening people is less fine, but whatever. I really didn't have any excuse for the kiss on the cheek though. I was fully expecting my performance review to start off with my boss going, "Look, we have a no tolerance policy for sexual harassment here so..." and like, fire me.

Luckily she was cool about it and laughed it off, but I was so embarrassed for months. Now the embarrassment has worn off and it's just a hilarious story. But listen to me kids, the moral here is don't ever EVER get drunk at a work function.

[dreamforest15]

If You Could See Me Now

Part 1 - harry

Harry first asked about his father when he was five. His teacher at St. Gregory wanted her students to write something about their father. Harry asked her what a father was and he never saw someone look so pityingly at him before. He decided he hated that look and never asked her again. He knew father meant dad when a nicer student told him. The kid was bullied by Dudly afterwards. 

He went home that day and asked aunt Petunia about his father. He was forbidden from asking questions but he really wanted to know who his father was and why did everyone have a father but him. Aunt Petunia's face became red with anger but she answered him anyway. 

His father died. In a car crash. He was a drunk who didn't care for his family. Didn't care for Harry's mother or Harry, not enough to stay alive and take care of his own problem. 

He asked her what his father's name was but in response, he got an angry shriek from her and was told to get out. 

That night Harry cried like he never had. He wondered if his father had ever wiped the tears off his face when he was a baby. Maybe he had. Maybe he even sang him songs to make him fall asleep. That night Harry pretended his father was there, singing him to sleep. And his mother was standing outside the door watching them fondly. 

Harry knew the truth about his father when he was eleven. He also got to know his father's name. James. It was such a nice name he thought. And it'd fit his father well. How? He doesn't know. But James sounds like a name that'd belong to his father.

He also got to know James wasn't a careless man. He wasn't the drunk that his aunt told him about. James was a brave man. He did care about Harry. He did care about his wife, Harry's mom. And for the first time, he wondered if he was anything like his father.

And when Harry got the picture book from Hagrid he couldn't help but think that's how his father was supposed to look. He had a mental image of James and Lily and it didn't match the real pictures. But he couldn't help but think that they matched perfectly.  

When Harry was thirteen he got to know a little bit more about his father. He not only loved Harry and Lily but also loved three other people. They were his family as much as Harry and Lily were and he loved them as much as Harry loves Ron and Hermione. He got to know how much of a great man his father was. How he made three strangers his family. How he managed to earn the respect of two of them to the extent that were ready to die for him. And for the hundredth time, Harry wondered if he was anything like him.

When Harry was fifteen he got to know about a darker side of his father. His father wasn't always the hero Harry and everyone around him made him out to be. He was also a boy once upon a time. He made mistakes. Great mistakes. And for a moment he hated him. Harry hated James. But then Sirius died. And the world came crumbling to his feet. He realized he never loved anyone as much as he loved Sirius, not even his real father. And with the earlier discovery, he didn't know if he should feel guilty or not.

When Harry turned seventeen he finally was able to forgive his father. He finally was able to look at him as a person rather than the hero he wanted him to be at the age of eleven or the villain he thought he was at the age of fifteen. James Potter was a human who made terrible mistakes. But even with all those mistakes, James Potter was a great man. To him. To everyone. And when he saw James in the forbidden forest he couldn't feel anything but longing. Longing for both his parents' touch, for Sirius' touch, for Lupin's calm voice. 

When Harry turned twenty-one he stood in front of a mirror and wondered if his father looked like this when he died. He has always heard how much he looked like his father all his life. Did he look like this when Harry last saw him?

Harry compared himself to the picture of his father. The one where he was a baby and in the middle of his parents. He touched his chin, his hair, his ear. It did look a lot like James. But Harry would age. He'd turn twenty-two. James wouldn't. James would always be youthful, forever twenty-one. People won't tell Harry how much he looks like James anymore. Would people stop telling him that now? He doesn't want them to stop. He loved it when people told him that, even when he hated James.

Lily's eyes and James' features, that's how he liked to be described. That's how Mary MacDonald described him when she came to meet him. Harry touched his cheek again. Would James be proud if he could see him now? Was James proud of what he's done though out his life? Would James love him as much as Harry loves him even after not really knowing him? 

How would James feel about Harry? What would he feel? How would he react if he ever saw Harry like this? Would he say what everyone says? That Harry looks just like him. He wouldn't maybe. Maybe he would say Harry was just like his mum. How would James handle all of the trouble Harry caused at Hogwarts? Would he have been proud or annoyed? Would he hate Harry for hating him at the age of fifteen? 

What would he say? What would he feel? Would James recognize Harry? Would he approve of everything Harry did or shake his head in disagreement? At that moment Harry decided that he loved his mother more because he never had a doubt that she loved him and was proud of him. But mother sounds like the kind of person that is always with you. At least the things he heard of his mother made him feel like that.

Harry was twenty-three when he started hating October 31st.

When he was at Hogwarts he didn't think much of the day. It was fun. Hogwarts' feasts were amazing. But as he became older he learned it wasn't only a day to celebrate Halloween. It was also the day they celebrated Harry and his parents. It was the day his parents died. It was the day that didn't let him get close to his heroes. The day that took the ones that he still wants the most with him. The day which changed his life forever. That was the day for which he would never get to know if his parents were proud of him. 

Harry was twenty-five when he became a father himself and he never wanted James Potter to be with him more. He named his child James. Did his father feel like this when he was born? Did James Potter feel nervous and helpless and so in love when Harry Potter was born? He accepted that he would never know. But he would do everything to make him proud. He would become the father to James that James Potter would have been for him but couldn't be. 

And no matter how old he got and how so many people stopped saying he looked like James he still looked for his father's approval. In things that didn't matter. He would always ask what his father would do or say in a certain situation. And even though he would never get the answer to that because he never knew his father to begin with he still formed an answer and went with it. Because if they were seeing him now, he only wanted them to be proud of him and happy for him. The days of worries were over. Now he only wanted his parents to be side by side and wait for him till his time comes. 

And they were his guardian angel Harry thought. They must have always looked after him. Because how did he even survive all these years if they weren't looking over him? James must have been proud of Harry. He must have loved Harry. Enough to stay there even when he couldn't. Harry's parents loved Harry and in return Harry loved them. It took Harry all these years to learn. Now he only wishes Teddy would understand that too. Understand it sooner than Harry. And he didn't know how to help the younger boy because what they felt towards their respective parents was vastly different. He can only wish with time Teddy would come to the conclusion that Harry had. His parents loved him and were proud of him.

[byunbhyunz]

Lead and Gold 5.

Pairing: Eunhyuk/Reader

Genre: mafia!au, smut and fluff

Warnings: swearing, self-pleasuring

Word count: 3,136

There were a lot of gossips about your superior, Doctor Jung’s secret works, where he invited surgeon residents to his private clinic to help him out. Afterwards, no one talked a word about it. Then, your time came. He took you there too, and you did your best to do exactly what your job was in the hospital: saving people’s lives. You just didn’t know who’s life it was this time.

Previous | Next

Despite your wishes, in the next week you got used to the whole healing mafia members surprisingly well. Your bruises started to heal; purple and blue patches of skin blooming into more greenish and yellow colors, but there was still a long way to go. At least the patients in the hospital stopped giving you weird looks.

You were called in two times already within that week, and was told by Jung to expect some more since Eunhyuk was hunting the men who came after him through you. His men getting injured was not so surprising in that scenario. You helped patching up five of them, fortunately none of their injuries were too serious. Well, if this manhunt will continue for longer than necessary, then it will be worse and things will get really ugly for both sides.

On your way back from grocery shopping, just as you parked your car, the phone started to ring. With an exaggerated sigh, you answered Jung’s call.

“Another one happened. Three men down, one needs immediate surgery, so jump in your fucking car and come!”

You didn’t like one bit the tone of his voice. He was commanding you around, which you never liked in your personal life. In the bedroom you liked to be dominated and bossed around, but beside that you hated it with passion.

Anyway, you swallowed words that instinctively wanted to escape you, and started the car. Jung on the other end let out an appreciative noise, one you rarely heard from anyone.

“I’m on my way,” you added, if the background noises of the car wouldn’t make it obvious enough.

“Make it here in ten. I’ll start the surgery, you’ll join when you get here.”

You hummed in agreement, and stepped on the gas pedal more firmly. You locked out of your mind that you were on your way to save the life of someone from the mafia, as you usually did lately – only focusing on the life-saving part. That was your job, which you did the best.

Your parking was sloppy, as you paid no mind to making it perfect.

Rushing into the private clinic, you only nodded at the guards strolling outside, not really paying any attention to them. You wondered how bad of a fight Eunhyuk’s men got into if one of them needed surgery immediately.

Walking down the hallways, you were more confident now on where to go, and in a few minutes you were already washing in for assisting Jung on the surgery. Eunhyuk was in the room too, with Donghae on his right, giving you inspecting looks as he gazed over your figure. Oh, yeah, he haven’t seen you since your little meeting with his enemies.

Back to focusing on your job. One of Eunhyuk’s man was laying on the operating table. Jung was fishing in his chest with a clip, probably looking for a bullet.

“Heart rate increasing. Breathing normal,” you announced in a tight voice. Finally realizing why he needed the surgery so bad, you started to really take seriously saving his life. The bullet was too freaking close to his heart. Close, as in if Jung would make the wrong move, he would die right on the spot. He was also bleeding a lot due to the circumstances.

“He has another bullet in his leg, not as dangerous as this one. Start working on it while I close this, and keep on monitoring his heart rate.”

Doing as Jung said, you went over to his lower side, keeping one eye on the heart monitor. Picking a clean clip up, you fished for the other bullet, after giving him a local anesthetic shot. Luckily, it wasn’t in too deep, barely in the skin. You pulled it out carefully, while speaking:

“Heart rate back to normal. I took the bullet out, closing it now.”

“Fuck,” you heard Eunhyuk mutter slowly along with a sigh.

After wiping the blood away with a cotton pad, you sewed the wound together, and cleaned it with some antiseptic, then covered in gauze. And could call it a day. Except there was two other men being injured.

“You do Jungsoo, I’ll deal with Baejin.”

To your luck, Jungsoo walked to you just as you wanted to ask which one of them he was. You already knew a couple of Eunhyuk’s men by then, but not all of them. Asking for a name wasn’t a thing you did while patching them up. Only the talkative ones told you their names. Some of them dealt the pain with running their mouth with no end to it, so you sucked up the information as a sponge, since Jung haven’t really told you anything, the less danger you were in. Or maybe it was Eunhyuk who told them it was for the better.

Well, even he couldn’t stop some of his men from spilling a few secrets.

Fortunately, Jungsoo only had scratches from bullets and daggers. They were the easy ones. Only putting antiseptic on them, sewing the deeper ones, then putting gauze on them.

While Jung and you worked on the men, you saw Eunhyuk motion for Donghae, then the bodyguard went to the man on the operating table. Donghae grabbed him by his arm, helping him down, then they slowly left the room. Upon seeing this, Jungsoo and Baejin followed them.

“I want to talk to Y/N when you’re done.” Eunhyuk’s voice was nonchalant. So was Jung’s, when he answered for you.

“You can talk to her right now, too.”

“I meant alone.”

“Of course that’s what you meant.” There was a dangerous undertone in Jung’s voice, which you couldn’t figure out the meaning of. Was he worried to leave you two alone? But why would he?

Still, he left, but only after giving a look to Eunhyuk and saying:

“You are the boss, but remember: I don’t want to find a new assistant again.”

There goes another mystery you feared to deal with, but wanted to know the meaning behind it.

Being alone with Eunhyuk in a room felt wrong and right at the same time. His face was empty from any emotions, but his gaze on your face spoke volumes as he took a step closer to you. He was surveying your bruises or more like what was left of them. The tiny scar on your upper lip, the blueish bruises fading into ugly yellow around your left eye and just under your cheek.

Eunhyuk took another step, now standing right in front of you.

“It’s a pity that it happened to you. I should have known they would find you,” he said.

He took your chin between his fingers, inspecting your face from so close you could feel his warm breath on your skin. You refused to say anything, waiting for what he really wanted to say. At that moment Eunhyuk didn’t seem like some big, scary mafia boss. His hand on your chin was soft, almost careful with big, dark eyes staring straight into yours, searching for something.

With the tension around and between you, it was hard to breath.

His thumb grazed over your lip, the scar on it, barely touching it. His gaze following the path of his finger, he continued:

“How come I feel sorry?”

“Maybe because your enemies beat me? I’m no one to you, yet they thought they can get to you through me.”

“They could have. You only had to tell them everything you know about me, and they would have stopped.”

“I don’t know anything about you. And I hardly believe they would have stopped if I told them just that.”

You felt guilty enjoying his finger’s soft cradling on your skin. Eunhyuk looked into your eyes again. His expression softened with his caressing, and you had to remind yourself that it was the city’s mafia boss who was standing in front of you. From any other man, these actions would come off as flirting or courting, but not with him. Never with him. People like him weren’t nice for nothing, they always wanted something in return. Maybe he just didn’t know yet what he wanted from you. It was unfortunate, that you just started to realize what you would want from him.

You were Jung’s assistant in these shady businesses, and Eunhyuk was Jung’s boss in some kind of way. Dancing with the devil is a dangerous thing, you thought, it might not worth your while or time. Or your life.

“Not knowing anything might have saved your life,” he added after a long while. “And what about your little run in with one of them at the hospital?”

“Jung told you.”

“Shindong, not that it matters. I have to know everything concerning my businesses.”

His fingers left your face, trailing down your neck to your shoulders. You shivered and not because of fear this time. Eunhyuk’s touch was affecting you. Sighing, you lowered your gaze to the ground, basking in the feeling of his skin on yours.

You haven’t been with a man for a while and it was affecting you bad. Maybe you should take a night out and hook up with someone, just to clear your mind. Getting lust out of the way would make everything so much easier. Because you craved him.

“So I am one of your businesses,” you concluded flatly.

“You work for me, so yes, you are. Your safety is my concern, too, like any of my men’s.”

Clicking your tongue, you took a step back. His hand fell back to his body. You saw his fingers twitch for a moment, before he regained his calm.

While you were thinking about escaping the room and his presence, Eunhyuk stepped closer to you again, enclosing his fingers around your wrist and his mouth opened to say something more.

Jung chose that exact moment to barge in, interrupting Eunhyuk before he could say anything. The doc measured the scene with a swift look at your pair, and his face hardened.

“We are finished. Go home and take a rest,” he told you sternly.

Upon that, Eunhyuk finally let go of you, the feeling of his touch still lingering on your skin.

Your mind has been a mess since last night. You felt bothered and needy all night after going home from the clinic. Even after taking a hot shower and pleasuring yourself for an embarrassingly long time.

You blamed it all on yourself. It has been a while since you met someone for romantic reasons, let alone spending a night with them. Maybe that’s why Eunhyuk’s closeness affected you so much.

Your past relationships were a mess. And that was an understatement. You spent most of your teenage years in a committed relationship with a nice boy, but going to different universities ended it soon. During the coming years your relationships only lasted a few month, and you had several hookups between them. You had to take your mind off the stress, and one night stands with bad boys were your solution to that. In reality, enjoying life to the fullest was your only intention.

Work was slow, and it didn’t help that Jung noticed your restlessness. Fortunately, he didn’t make any comment about it, but his sharp eyes picked up every single one of your hesitating moves and the distant look in your eyes when your mind wandered far away from the hospital to a certain tattooed mafia boss. You had to focus hard not to think about him.

Shindong – as always – patiently waited for you in your car, when you were finally free to go home.

“I plan to go out tonight. Will you follow me there too?” You voice had certain bite to it. The man already had his phone in his hand, doing who knows what.

“My orders state to keep you safe everywhere you go.”

“And you expect the enemy to be at a club, seducing then torturing me for information again?”

“You don’t know what they are capable of just to get to Eunhyuk.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but you saw a dark glint in his eyes. His fingers tapped faster on his phone now. “Which club are we going to, by the way?”

“Don’t know yet. Haven’t been in one in a while.”

“I heard ‘The Fortress’ to be a good hookup place, if that’s what you are looking for.”

You chuckled lowly. Did he read your mind or were you that obvious? Could anyone look at you and tell that you wanted to walk home with a stranger tonight?

“The Fortress it is, then.”

Getting ready wasn’t really fun. You were nervous, and Shindong’s constant questions didn’t help at all. He wanted to know everything. Will you take the lucky man home? Or would you go to his place? Should he act as a friend? Should he wait outside of your apartment until you are finished? Will you kick the man out or you’d let them sleep over?

At one point you got so angry, you wondered if you should go out at all. Was it worth it? Having a bodyguard showed its downside big time now. You just wanted him to disappear. You wanted your old life back without the whole mafia thing.

You shook your head, after finishing your makeup. A winged eyeliner was the cure for everything right now. That, a red lipstick and the promise of a well deserved hookup.

Exiting the bathroom, Shindong was on his phone again, talking in a low voice to someone. He took one look at your short red dress, before saying:

“I think even an army couldn’t hold her back from going out.” Then he ended the call.

“Who was it?” You asked hesitantly, something fluttering dangerously in your lower abdomen.

“Eunhyuk. I have to inform him, if you do anything outside of your usual routine.”

“Since when?”

“Since he sent me here the first time.”

“Fuck him,” you muttered, but he still heard you.

“Well, that could be an option. A bad one, but still an option.”

You pondered upon his words, but didn’t reply, simply grabbed your purse and waving for him to get going.

The Fortress was tricky. Its outside looked like a simple old building with bars in front of the windows, but the inside was buzzing with tons of people and music. The air was hot and you were happy you didn’t overdress, because you were already sweating.

Grabbing a drink for yourself and Shindong, you cheered before drinking it, then threw yourself onto the dance floor. Your hips swayed to the rhythm of whatever song was playing, body swiftly brushing to the other dancers’. Constantly scanning the crowd, you were waiting for someone to catch your eye and swing into action.

The only problem was that in every handsome men you were looking for the features of a certain someone. You dismissed anyone who didn’t have black hair or tattoos. Slowly, but surely you were getting tired of your own mind. You didn’t want him. You didn’t want someone who looked like him. You wanted someone who could take your mind off of Eunhyuk for a few hours, no matter how they looked.

Looking around with a newfound resolution, you spotted the bane of your existence.

Eunhyuk sat at the bar, chatting away with Shindong like it was the most natural thing in the world. His dark eyes were on you, following every movement of your body. He looked at you like he was moments away from devouring you right there. You froze on the spot. You could only stare back at him. You forgot about the people around you, barely feeling when someone caressed your hips or back.

You came out to forget about him and the fire he put inside you, and he was here. And you were getting angrier with every second as you put two and two together.

Shindong on his phone earlier texting away, him recommending The Fortress, calling Eunhyuk while you were getting ready. It was his doing. Eunhyuk was a spider weaving his web delicately and you walked right into it. Like a fool.

Hot and bothered, you swing your hand up, flipping him off. He only cocked an eyebrow, a smirk tugging on his lips. It was inviting, alluring. Your own lip parted, curse words crowding on your tongue, never actually getting released. You shook your head and did your best to disappear in the mass of bodies before going home.

And screw Shindong, he can get to your apartment however he wanted.

The moment you got into bed, your phone started to ring. Shindong came home half an hour after you, and never commented about you deserting him at the club. Not even a word about how stupid and dangerous it was on your part.

He was on the couch and you wondered if the ringing bothered him, because you were too tired to answer it. But it could be Jung calling you to get to the clinic, so you had to check the caller anyway. The number wasn’t familiar, so you let it ring out.

Not even a minute later, it buzzed with an incoming message.

[01:27] Ignoring me is not the smartest move. I’ll visit you tonight.

You scoffed at the arrogance. Even without a name, you knew who it was coming from.

[01:34] Just text me what you want to say. There’s no need for you to come here.

[01:36] It’s not something I could say over the phone. Sleep well.

Your fingers slipped inside your pants as you put your phone aside without answering Eunhyuk. The fire inside you flared up again with the promise of meeting him tonight.

You caressed your folds, covering your fingers with the sticky wetness. You fantasized about him wanting you and your body, just like you wanted him. Because you wanted him, you had to admit that to yourself. A shaky moan escaped your lips as you wondered what kind of lover he would be.

In your mind it was his tattooed fingers moving in and out of you. He would be enthralled by your wetness and your little sighs, an amused smirk playing on his lips. His thumb would be on your clit, fingers scissoring to coax more of those moans out of you, constantly looking for your sweet spot. And when he would find it, he would be ruthless.

Your movements followed your fantasies, getting you closer and closer to the edge.

Desperate for an orgasm, you massaged your clit faster. You felt it building up. You imagined him caressing your breasts, almost heard him whispering in your ear what a good girl you were for him.

After silencing your final moans in your pillow, you fell asleep with more fantasies of him.