#bc when a girl is offering to let you dick her down if you just wash your hands

[going2hell4everythingbutbeingbi]

shout out to my bf for being the first guy to not look at me like I was crazy when I asked him to wash up before we had sex

[p0rk-guts]

Velvette if she served cunt

Design breakdown below 👇🏾(BEWARE IT'S VERY LONG)

Alright going into detail about my gripes and edits. Like Velvette but her design is just. Not good to me. None of her (main) outfit details look like they fit to me— pinstripe pants + long fur coat paired with black crop top and scene sleeves? Skull earrings? TINKERBELL HEELS????? Tell me how any of that meshes well or even makes SENSE for the social media influencer persona she's supposed to have going on. Now that I think about it I'm pretty sure she's supposed to be clown themed... But I'm just gonna toss that idea out bc being a revered social media influencer and a clown at the same time just seems a bit oxymoronic to me, and the "clown" details aren't adding shit for me.

And don't think I forgot about her features. Pale ash grey skin and wavy hair at best. If she was supposed to be some type of creature where a nonhuman skin tone would make sense then maybe I could let it go?? But as far as I can tell she doesn't have an object or creature or animal theme like the other V's and if she does I shouldn't need to do detective work to figure it out. There is no reason for *any* of these poc characters to have grey skin, especially since they don't have any other poc features at all.

Sorry that shit gets me heated anyways. Onto my redesign. Gave her a more obviously black skin tone and textured hair bc I love a 30 inch buss down as much as the next girl but considering how there are no significant poc cast members with visibly textured hair I think she deserves to flaunt some coils if no one else will.

Ngl I'm not. A fashion girlie. Idk what's trendy idk what screams "influencer" so a lot of this was just throwing shit at the wall that I've seen around recently but it looks cute enough to me. And there was a bit of inspiration taken from Aliyahcore and ghetto fabulous fashion ❤️

If you can't tell this is shamefully inspired by lovesart23's Velvette reimagining because imo they had some outstanding ideas for Vel. I low-key stole their idea for those floating eyes in her hair that follow her around and help her keep tabs on shit it was just a superb idea for a social media overlord to me. I also took some inspo from @furbtasticworksofart 's redesign because vampire influencer sucking up the souls of her followers in exchange for content??? Too good (also the eyes were supposed to have bat/vamp wings I just forgot 😭) So yeah she's a vampire demon now. Without the features she was looking too human anyhow. Maybe she also feeds off of the energy of her followers through tech like after Vox mind controls them or whatever... Idk idk is that anything

Speaking of Vox, the screen glasses are meant to connect her to him w/ their color and shape while serving the purpose of being like a second phone she can post and check the web with. Like lovesart said in their reimagining vid, Vel doesn't really do more than pose for selfies and scroll on her phone when it comes to social media so in my head she's constantly flipping her shades on and off, using them to scroll and stay active, and they can show when she's not paying attention or respect to something/someone bc scrolling is more worth her time in the moment.

The hearts everywhere are also supposed to kinda represent social media likes + connect her back to Val w/ his heart patterns. That might've been what the hearts in her og design were for but. I just didn't like their placement bc I'm a nitpicker and a hater❕

I have so much more I could say about possible ideas for Velvette because I love evil black girls and I only want them to succeed in my media and I could treat her so much BETTER but I'll refrain bc this is way too long anyway.

Alright for reading/scrolling through all that rambling I offer you the sketches + some alt hair ideas I had

P.S. I'm very open to constructive criticism but if I see anyone just dick riding in my replies or rb's I'm just blocking you on sight ✌🏾

[hearts4chriss]

Princess.

bad boy! Chris x nerd! Poc reader

prompt: Chris notices you, just a regular girl, pretty nerd, focused on her studies and nothing else, Chris has this attraction to you, his goal is to get ur attention and absolutely destroy you and ur innocence all together, a school project just might be his trick

inspired by: @luv4kozume my mama and talented queen go read her shit now

Part 7

warnings: reader is on BC!! overstimulation, rough sex ( p in v ), degrading, hair pulling, use of pet names ( good girl, sweetheart, baby ), ass slapping, teasing, manipulation ??, aftercare tho!!

“Fucking hell” I say to myself, I had a project with the nerd. Now ur probably like “Chris she’s just a nerd come on” She’s not ur regular nerd, she’s just innocent as shit, never had sex, never received head or pleasure from anyone focussed on her studies but I’ve heard her talk to her friends, she’s got a dirty mouth one i'd love to put to good use.

the second we got assigned partners for a chemistry project a smirk curved across my lips. I see her turn back to me and give me an innocent welcoming smile. fuck that was enough to make cum in my pants. the way her clear glasses sit on her cute little nose, her plump lips with a layer of gloss on them. and damn that uniform on her.

the way her skirt rides up when she sits down allowing me to get a good look at her ass, I see her light purple panties from here just a bit. Nobody else was looking at her, more focused on the basic ass bitches whose asses were purposely exposed. whores.

Fuck I couldn't take my eyes off her, the way she pulled her skirt down in the back, she could bare the fact the school's skirts were so short her ass was poking out. Her stockings climb up her thighs and her dress shoes dangle off her feet, the blazer fits perfectly around her skirt, and the white button-up shirt school rules top two buttons for all girls must be undone, Fuck- her tits sat so perfectly in it,

And then shit don't get me started on the tie. I've always pictured me putting mine around her pulling it as I fucked her. She was so damn innocent, the way she'd look back every now and then to see me because we were partners and give me that same smile innocent smile, as I was thinking about ruining her pussy. The only thing stopping me was the fact we were in class, but shit- I swear when I have her alone I was gonna fuck her so good, ruin her innocence entirely.

Eventually class was over and so was school, which meant It was about to just us.

Your Pov now

I got up from my seat and made my way out of class to wait for chris, I readjust my glasses and apply some more lip gloss.

The boy walks out and I give him a small smile and he gives me a smirk looking down at me and biting his lip, I just shrug it off and he opens his car door for me and we start driving back to his house

"Are you excited about our project Chris?" I asked him softly trying to kill the silence

Fuck her voice, it was so soft and sweet. just imaging her moaning was even better, I let out a soft groan feeling my dick press against my pants before I respond to her.

“Oh yeah for sure I cant wait.” to fuck ur brains out till you can't take it anymore.

We arrived at his house and we walked inside and his parents weren't home so he offered to work in his room and I nodded and we walked. upstairs into it and sat on his bed.

I smiled and took my computer out and laid on my stomach and began to start a slide show.

Fuck- does she know what she's doing? I felt my dick get even harder a small wet spot appearing on my pants.

I sat and watched this hot nerd on my bed and realized.

We were not gonna get anything done tonight.

I began to un do my belt and slip my pants and boxers down, I tossed my blazer on the floor and my shirt and tie approaching her.

I slowly lifted up her skirt and pull her light purple panties down staring at her bare ass, she had no idea. Fuck the surprise she was in for.

I press my dick against her sliding into her as she let out a moan fuck she was so tight.

“Chris- wh- o-oh god”- she moaned, it rang in my ears.

“is this okay?” I asked, I wanted to make sure she was okay with what I was about to do to her.

“mmph- y-yes- she stutters” I could hear her struggling it was pretty cute.

I took her skirt off and blazer allowing me to grip her hips and thrust in her quickly, her moans growing louder as I moved her computer to my nightstand.

“Ur pussy's so tight baby fuck-“ I groan as her wetness coated my dick allowing me to start pounding into her, her moans got louder as she moans my name and fuck did it turn me.

“Fuck c'mere-“I say impatiently arching her back and pushing her face into the pillow before pounding into her again.

“C-chris o-oh god-“ she cries out gripping my sheets as I saw her glasses fogging up from her heavy breathing, I knew this was probably a lot for her but I was dying to fuck her.

My hips snapping with hers sounded euphoric as she cried out my name, I did what she least expected.

I pulled her hair and thrusted into her harshly my hips snapped harshly on her ass and she squealed at the sudden roughness.

“Oh God- I-chris-“ She cries out and I decide to opt for slower and deep thrusts knocking the wind out of her lunges.

“Not so innocent now are you sweetheart.” I said with a smirk getting impatient at the pace so I shoved her face into the pillow starting to pound in her again the moans and heavy breathing of this innocent girl grew louder again.

“Shit shit shit-“ curses leave her mouth and I chuckle darkly

“hm, you've got a dirty mouth, don't you?” I whisper into her ear and she moans in response, she sounds so beautiful like this.

she fits so snug around me. I felt her squeeze tightly around my dick and I groan in response at how quickly I was about to make her cum and me as well as I twitch inside her.

“You on the pill baby?” I asked her and she nodded and I pull her hair roughly

“Use ur words princess.” I say still pounding into her.

“I-I-am- f-fuck-“ she stutters out and moans my lips curling into a playful smile.

“Good girl, you can cum now.l I say as I harshly snap my hips feeling her cum on my cock and I release inside of her.

I pulled out watching our cum drip out of her pussy thats when I realized, I was nowhere near finished with her.

“On ur stomach for me?” i asked her and she immediately complied.

I unbottoned her shirt leaving her tie on seeing her fully naked wearing just a tie makes my dick perk up again.

I slap my tip on her folds and she whimpered.

I spread her legs pushing them against her chest and slip inside her easily and she cries out at me pounding into her with force rocking her small body on the bed.

watched her stomach seeing my bulge and I chuckled seeing her eyes squeeze shut and her glasses start slipping from her face.

“Ugh F-fuck- my glasses-“ she cries out as they started falling off onto her body from how hard I was fucking her.

“fuck- push em up for me yeah?” I sighed deeply and she reached a shaken hand pushing the frames back on her face.

She looks so hot like this, all fucked out on my bed for me and she has no idea this was only the beginning

“C-Chris ngh- I-c-can’t-“ she stutters as I watch the tears form in her eyes from the overwhelming pleasure I was giving her, the way her tits were pressed up against her body as I held her legs up easily slipping in and out of her wet pussy.

“come on baby, your taking me so well- shit-“ I grunted angling my hips to come in contact with hers more quickly and harshly and hearing her whimpers was so fucking hot.

I attach my thumb to her clit rubbing it in circles and she squealed at the sudden contact from her sensitivity.

“Shit Chris- I-t-the project!” She screams out my name and I smirk at her innocence, I had never thought about the damn project.

“oh princess you really think that’s what I care about?” I say snapping my hips with hers once more pounding her pretty pussy and she curses my name.

“I’ve only been thinking about fucking that pretty ass of yours for days, shit you and that skirt-“ I chuckle drawing figure 8s on her swollen clit and her thighs tremble in my hands.

“Fuck- mphm oh g-god-“ she cries out, her body trembling in my hands her body covered in a thin layer of sweat, her cute classes now discarded.

“Hm? What was that sweetheart?” I smirk pulling her tie making her gulp and her eyes widen as I pull it and thrust into her roughly, the sounds of my hips and her thighs slapping fuck- I could’ve cum right there.

“CHRIS- p-please-“ she stutters gripping the sheets and my finger tips needing her plush thighs as she begs for an orgasm.

“You need to cum?” I say leaning over in her ear.

“Y-yes god-“ she whimpers arching her back.

I decided I would let her cum under one condition.

“princess I’m the only one who’s aloud to fuck you from now on got it?” I say placing my tongue around her nipple sucking softly and she groans.

“Y-yes I-i got it-“ she cries out and I rocked her body harder rubbing her clit and she tightens around me before beginning to squirt, she didn’t stop.

“Fuck you just squirted all over me-“ I chuckle slowing my thrusts.

“Mmph- I’m sorry- I-“ she stutters and I shake my head and chuckle.

“It’s okay honey I’ll take care of you”. I smile and pull out of her smirking seeing proudly at the mess I made of this girl, her thighs shake a bit, our cum dripping out of her and the wet patch on my sheets from her squirting just now. Her face a little teary and fuck she looked so hot all fucked out for me.

I picked up her body and ran her a bath and sat her on the counter for a second

“Spread ur legs for me mama.” I ask her calmly and she does so and I take a warm cloth and rub slowly between her legs and she winces.

“S-sensitive”- she whimpers and I stop and place her in the warm water

“Sorry.” I smile putting her braids in a bun and she sighs in the water.

“thank you for taking care me-“ she sighs smiling at me innocently.

the rest of the night consists of me making sure she was okay

Oh and the project? She, yes ms nerdy herself, asked for an extension

tag list !

@mattsleftnipple03 @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @alexoslurr @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chris

@nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @mattsnymphette @hoesformatt @luv4kozume @iiheartstef @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @junnniiieee07 @st7rnioioss

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 187 }

not a want but a need.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

warnings: an unedited, 18+ thirst post / drabble

by choosing to interact with this 18+ content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings.

anonymous said: Yandere... Jinwoo who keeps kissing reader's clit after making her cum for the nth time just to see her squirm and cry. I'm so sorry +thrusting his dick inside her slowly but harshly that you hear it slap because he likes seeing the wonderful effect he has on her, how she cries and shake, but keeps herself silent bc she likes it I'm so sorry again 😭😆

your mind was already hazy the moment sung jinwoo slides another one of his thick fingers into your wet heat, swirling the digit around as his hot mouth was felt sucking at your swollen bundle of nerves.

your body was a mess for him, with a symphony of moans falling from your parted lips as jinwoo continued his onslaught of pleasure on your sensitive form.

as if addicted to the mere taste of you, you felt the way jinwoo’s tongue carefully explored your pussy lips, drinking up your honeyed arousal while letting out a guttural groan of satisfaction. even when he lazily thrust his finger in and out of your core, never once quickening his pace, your sensitive body still reacted as you came for what seemed like the millionth time.

the sheets were utterly ruined thanks to the sheer amount of times you had came throughout the night, and you could feel the droplets of your tears clinging to your lashes as you struggled to even breathe.

“jinwoo jinwoo jinwoo…!” your voice was in a drunken haze, shivering when you could hear jinwoo gulping up all your had to offer, your hands weakly tugging at his hair as his face remained buried between your spread legs.

“fuck, you taste so damn good, sarang. better than all the sweets in the world.” jinwoo finally removes himself from the spot between your legs, lips still shining with the evidence of your release as the sight of it was enough to make you bite down harshly against your lip.

“jinwoo-“

you were cut off by jinwoo when he takes a hold of your ankles, pressing your naked body against his. you could feel the outline of his muscles pressing against your form, making you let out a shaky moan in response. along with his muscles, you could feel the way his cock became painfully hard for you, its mushroom tip appearing almost an angry red in color as droplets of a cloudy fluid was seen escaping from its tip.

“look at what my pretty girl did to me… you feel that? i’m practically throbbing and oozing for you.” as if to prove his point, jinwoo proceeds to run the length of his dick up and down your silken walls, collecting the prior evidence of your release against his shaft. you gasp upon feeling every inch of him, with his cock’s prominent veins felt pulsating against your swollen cunt. your mouth goes dry upon feeling such friction, and it was enough to make you toss your head in response, back already arching against the bed as jinwoo kept teasing you.

“fuck… i can’t wait to sink into you… i fucking need you.”

with those whispered words as your final warning, jinwoo angles his cock and thrusts into you with an expert precision, the mushroom tip of his cock already hitting that spongy spot deep inside of you. you were already seeing stars as jinwoo proceeded to make love to you, his pace slow, but powerful. the squelching sound of his cock sliding in and out of you was enough to make your face heat up and head spin, clinging to the sheets with such force that you swore you nearly ripped the fabric.

he takes his time sliding his thick and long cock in and out of you, seeming to become hypnotized by the wet sounds that emits from your cunt each time his hips meet with yours. a hazy expression was seen on his face when he suddenly keeps your hips still before pistoning his cock in and out of you at a breakneck pace.

you could feel your breasts bouncing along with his movements, a dark chuckle filling at the air as he keeps up with his passionate speed and thrusts, never once slowing down even when you fell apart for him.

you felt him slam into that soft spot once more and knew that you were a goner, your cries and moans of his name echoing throughout the area as you felt your warm, love juices escape out of you.

“oh gods, jinwoo!” even with your walls clenching so sweetly around him, jinwoo doesn’t cease his movements, seeming to grow even bigger inside of my before laying back on the bed, grabbing a hold of your waist while proceeding to literally bounce you up and down his cock (completely and utterly using you as his own personal fleshlight.)

“i’ll never got tired of this… just feeling you surrounding me so sweetly like this-“ he cuts himself off, letting out another dark chuckle. “this is better than heaven. me sheathing my cock inside you hasn’t become a want at this point, but a need.”

he continues bouncing you up and down his massive length, licking his lips upon seeing the outline of his dick hidden within your abdomen as he kept you in this position, making sure that you came for a second time before shoving your body on its back once more.

with both of your legs being held by jinwoo, he continues to drill himself into you. by now, you lost count of the sheer amount of times you came, with jinwoo never once stopping or softening his cock. in fact, it seemed as though the more you came, the harder he felt while buried deep inside of you.

“fuck, jinwoo… you haven’t even came once… y-you’re a fucking monster- ah!”

your boyfriend continues to let out a rich chuckle, finally leaning down as you felt his toned chest lay across your breasts that still bounced in tune with his unhinged thrusts. “i must be blessed with a massive amount of stamina with this s-rank body. you should just sit back and enjoy it, my love. use me as your own personal dildo if you must.”

upon hearing his dark words, you couldn’t stop yourself from climaxing once more, eyes rolling near the back of your head at the intense sensation while the tears practically stained at your damp cheeks. basking in such pleasure, you simply allowed jinwoo to play your body like his own personal instrument while begging for him to never stop.

a.n. - thirsty, so damn thirsty for my man… i love him so much please 🫠

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[revehae]

i’m not asking you to write for wonbin but if you ever do js know i wiillllll be there !

yall have finally did it yall have won yall have Cracked me i hope youre happy bc i kinda am… i had this idea before he cut his hair now im feeling like that one harry styles fan tweet and i don’t even stan fr

warnings: drug use, addiction, is this dubcon idk

wc. 670

dealer!wonbin x (f) rich!reader.

wonbin knew you wouldn’t turn down his offer. not in the state that you were in, moody and tense as ever. the girl he’d seen around here and there at parties hadn’t come back around, not since he’d first seen her bump a line or two, and she’d been replaced by you.

what you had become over the months, at least.

not that wonbin would have it any other way. he liked having you kind of dependent on him, knowing he was the first person crossing your mind when you needed a fix. but the brief interactions, meeting you at a party or somewhere shady at night, your car window rolling up as quickly as it had gone down, weren’t enough anymore.

“no.”

“no?” you repeated, like the entitled, spoiled rich girl you really were deep down. wonbin had to give you credit, you cloaked it well, but when you were desperate, you showed your true colors. “what do you mean no?”

wonbin grinned playfully, in a way that he knew would aggravate you. “i mean, i set everything aside for my buddy, and i don’t have enough for you right now.”

you rubbed your nose and ran a finger through your hair, exhaling exasperatedly. “well, tell him to wait. i need it more than he does! is he paying you? i’ll pay you twice as much!”

there you went, offering him your pocket money, throwing it away like it was nothing just for a second of your high. but wonbin didn’t need your money. selling cocaine to recklessly needy addicts like yourself was a very lucrative business.

he shook his head. “sorry, that’s not gonna cut it. but i thought of something better.”

you were in the middle of losing what was left of your mind when wonbin said that and your eyes immediately snapped back to him, fixed to him before he could even get the words completely out.

“i’ll give you two grams if you let me fuck you,” wonbin said casually, a wild grin tugging at his lips. “six grams if you let me do it raw.”

you were a little reluctant at first, but wonbin wasn’t surprised when you finally caved, thinking to himself, that was too damn easy.

because he was nice, wonbin let you snort a line before he touched you, but he was on top of you not a second later. in spite of that, he didn’t move like he was in any particular hurry, snaking a hand up your shirt and pressing his lips against your lips. then your neck, your collarbone, your belly. almost affectionately, almost.

it started to work you up quickly, and you even got annoyed, tugging at his hair, but wonbin didn’t care. matter of fact, he could feel his body getting hotter, burning a thousand degrees. he wanted to savor every second of you, every touch of you, every smell of you.

wonbin really liked the smell of you. the sweet scent helped masked the madness underneath when you were like this. he leaned in to sniff your hair, your neck, your clothes, your hands.

it made his dick twitch in his pants and he couldn’t control himself anymore, yanking it free so that he could steer himself between your open, inviting legs, moaning shakily and blowing his hair out of his eyes as he pushed into you. 

knowing that only a few months ago, your dignity would have never let you consent to something like this, wonbin almost felt bad. he may have sold the drugs, but he never touched them otherwise. too many people he had seen wind up like you, selling themselves out for a moment of ecstasy.

but he wasn’t so different. your cunt squeezed and throttled the life out of his cock. sweat was the reason your body clung to his. you were muttering his name, dragging red lines down his back with your fingernails. and for the time being, there was nothing wonbin wouldn’t do for his moment of ecstasy.

[dovveri]

what if nerd momo x bimbo reader author I need u

failing maths, but getting the girl

synopsis: momo and y/n have hated each other ever since an incident in first year. now, y/n's failing a class and momo offers to help.

warnings: mentions of blood and cuts, overbearing parents, drugs, implied sex

w/c: 4.0k

a/n: this is kinda funny for me bcs im blonde and my dad keeps making jokes in chinese about how im ltr a blonde bimbo now. anyway i combined these 2 reqs bcs im lazy forgive me anon/s

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

"y/n!"

you turn in the corridor, almost crashing into the burly man behind you who yells a "watch where you're going blondie!" before rushing off to a class he was probably late to.

you spot your friends who had called you, grinning and waving you over, "can't go one day on campus without running someone down can you?" a friend teases.

you pout, "i didn't walk into anyone yesterday!"

"no but you got stuck in the revolving door outside the chem building."

you whine at their teasing, you were a naturally clumsy person! sometimes you'd mix up salt and sugar, and sometimes you'd lose your car keys only to find them still in the ignition keyhole of your car from the last time you used it.

"so you coming to that party tonight? i heard some famous dj from the states is playing."

"awwh really?! i can't tonight i'm failing that dumb math class i have to take and i have a quiz tomorrow so i gotta study."

"you're failing everything y/n, what difference would one night make for you anyway?" a scoff from a student passing by, who you recognise as the infamous hirai momo from the back of her head and the evil way she sends a side-eye at you and your friend group in disgust.

"i wouldn't be if it weren't for your sad ass hirai!"

"stop looking at my ass and get your eyes on some books for once."

momo was meant to be your roommate in first year. although you had accidentally locked her out in the rain for 5 hours while you were hooking up with someone you can't remember the name of anymore. that was during orientation week, safe to say she was pissed and completely drenched when you finally let her in. she filed for a roommate change not long after, citing "poor etiquette and stupidity that could infect my genius", and being the university's most promising academic scholar, she pretty much got whatever she wanted. meaning she also got you assigned to the harshest tutors and markers as her own form of personal revenge, essentially making you fail most of your first year courses. which is why you were even taking this math class again.

the problem arose however, when you find out you would actually lose your scholarship if you failed another class. so failing was definitely not an option.

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

“you failed.”

“what!? but i studied all night! i even brought the right calculator model this time!”

“miss l/n, bringing the correct calculator doesn’t help you if you don’t know how to use it. and neither does studying all night if you haven’t been coming to class for most of the semester.”

you’re gaping at the professor in disbelief.

“i’m afraid you’ll lose your scholarship if you fail the upcoming final exam. take this as your final warning. good day miss l/n.”

the door is shut in your face while you're still left trying to process exactly what just happened, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

a familiar scoff behind you brings you back though, "what is y/n l/n doing here outside the staff meeting room? what? about to blow one of your professors for marks or something?"

you spin, stepping into her space, faces inches away from each other, "you jealous or something hirai? i'll blow you too if you beg."

you revel in the way her cheeks immediately flush, a slightly shaky finger pushing up the glasses on her nose as she looks away, "jokes on you l/n. i don't have a dick dimwit."

"you don't need one for me to make you feel good."

she's sputtering, moving around you quickly to escape, knocking on the staff door. you smirk, reveling in the slight win over her but immediately forgetting the feeling of triumph when you realise you're still fucked for your final in 2 weeks.

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

"y/n, you know i love you, but i cannot explain this again in any other way."

you groan, hands coming up to pull at your hair.

"but you got like a high affliction or something for this class last year! if you can't teach me i'm actually royally screwed, pleaseee?"

"it's high distinction sweetie. and just because someone's good at something doesn't mean they're a good teacher. sorry to break it to you but i couldn't teach my little cousins how to multiply fractions without wanting to commit homicide."

you wrinkle your nose, "gross dude they're literally related to you."

"no babes homicide means i wanted to kill them."

"oh... i guess that's better?"

"focus! c'mon you remember how to do the cross product right?"

"i don't get ittttttt!!!!!!! isn't that just multiplication? a times b equals ab!"

"this isn't algebra it's vectors. cross product isn't multiplication y/n."

you groan again, facepalming the desk in front of you.

your friend sighs, "sorry y/n i have to get going now. promised my boyfriend i'd go watch his game tonight."

"what?! you can't leave me here!"

your friend's already packing up their stuff though, "sorry! good luck with the studying though!"

you wail in goodbye, sitting up again and slapping your face a few times, trying to hype yourself up.

two minutes later, and you're still absolutely nowhere.

you decide to go out for a quick stroll rather than start a campfire in the middle of the library with all your papers. the evening breeze feels refreshing against your skin as you take in the sky. breathing in a deep sigh and closing your eyes briefly.

definitely the wrong idea when you crash headfirst into something that yelps a "what the fuck!" followed by the sound of smashing glass and a whine of pain.

your eyes are quick to open and you stare down at a bleeding hirai momo next to what looks to be a ruined 3D print of a final project or something.

"oh shit momo! are you okay?" you crouch down quickly, trying to collect the glass pieces that have broken, yelping when a piece digs into your skin.

"has all that bleach finally reached your brain y/n? who goes for broken glass with their bare hands?" she's frowning, rubbing her head a little and inspecting the cut across her arm.

"i-i'm sorry i-"

she sighs, "save it. i've had a long enough day as it is. being around you any longer is just gonna increase my chances of dying to some freak plane crash or something." she's standing up and brushing her hands off on her pants muttering to herself, "i'll have to call security to come clean this up."

you realise then that her eyes look a little puffier than usual, slightly tinged with red, the telltale signs of crying.

you suddenly feel terrible. whatever you had just broken seemed like an extremely intricate piece of work, and she was still bleeding down her arm but she didn't seem to pay it much mind, taking a phone out of her pocket and dialing security.

you step to the side and wait for her to finish talking on the phone. she doesn't realise you haven't left yet, swearing under her breath as she assess the damage once again.

when she turns and sees you again, she scowls, "what are you still doing here bimbo? don't you have a dick to ride or some jewelry to shine?"

you ignore her, blushing instead, "you're still bleeding."'

she looks surprised at that response, glancing at her arm again briefly and shrugging, "it's whatever. i'll clean it up later."

you wrap a hand around her wrist then, still not meeting her eyes, "let me? it'll be hard to bandage it properly with your left hand. and i kinda owe you for all of-" you gesture vaguely with your other hand at the ground, "this."

she's tugging her hand back quickly though, "don't bother. you'd probably make it worse. just go home y/n."

you sigh exasperatedly, "won't you just let me help! i feel bad okay? i can't just leave you here bleeding onto the concrete waiting for security to come clean this up."

she's surprised at your outburst, eyes locking onto yours and then nodding slightly. you don't let her rethink her decision as you drag her back inside the library, heading into the storeroom where you knew they had emergency first aid supplies.

you sit her down on the chair and rummage through the small kit for some alcohol wipes to clean the wound first.

she's eyeing you with a sort of caution, but is quick to clench her eyes shut and gasp at the first sting of disinfectant.

it's quiet for a bit while you work on cleaning her wound.

"where'd you learn first aid?" she speaks up first, eyes meting yours again.

"my little sister used to play around a lot with the rougher kids in the neighborhood. so she was always coming home with scratches and cuts and my mom was at work most of the time so i had to learn to take care of her myself."

momo hums, "guess that didn't really translate to taking care of yourself then huh? i mean with the way you're always tripping over air and stuff, you're more of a danger to yourself than a serial killer would be." there's no malice to her words this time, just lightly teasing you and you smile.

"i am sorry by the way. for breaking that. it looked like it'll be pretty hard to replicate."

"nah. i can just print another one tomorrow don't worry."

you both fall into silence again as you finish cleaning her wound, going to collect a few of the bandages to start wrapping around her arm.

you clear your throat a little awkwardly, "so... long day?"

she chuckles humorlessly in response, "something like that."

"wanna talk about it?"

she bristles then, and you're quick to correct yourself, "i mean you don't have to. just... making conversation."

it's quiet for a little longer and you're finishing wrapping her up, grabbing a small adhesive to stick it all together when she sighs. "sorry. just had a lot of pressure from back home lately. my parents keep wanting me to hurry up and graduate so i can go back to japan and take over the family companies. they called earlier saying how they're cutting off my funding for next year if i continue to drag out my studies."

"what? but you're only 23. don't you have like, things left you wanna do before you're all old and unable to move anymore?"

she giggles a little, its the first time you've heard that from her, "yeah tons actually. i've always wanted to see the northern lights and stay in one of those cute little igloos in finland, maybe go to antarctica and do some research there."

"okay! do that! what's stopping you?"

she smiles at you sadly, "my parents won't allow it. they'd disown me for not taking over their companies. and frankly, i'd be broke without them. i don't have the kind of money to keep living abroad like this if they were to stop supporting me."

you tilt your head a little in confusion, "can't you find a job?"

she's laughing then, a full, nose-scrunching laugh, "not with the classes i'm taking. i'd have to either take part-time study, which my parents would literally kill me for because it's 'embarassing' and would bring shame on our family name, or... never sleep again and take a night job or something."

you frown, sitting back on your heels.

"thanks for this by the way. you're still hurt though, do you want me to do you?"

"-and don't make a weird joke about that." she interrupts you before you can even open your mouth.

you pout, nodding a little as she laughs, and grabs the first aid box from you, gently placing your hand in her lap and cleaning your fingers.

you're caught by the way her eyebrows furrow a little in concentration, her teeth biting into her bottom lip slightly, and you can't help but think she looks cute.

you're brought quickly out of these alarming thoughts though, when she asks "how come you're in the library so late on a friday night anyway? never thought the day would come."

you groan, remembering the stack of math papers you have sitting on your desk, "i have to study for a math final coming next week. if i fail i lose my scholarship and i can't let my mom pay for any of this. she's already worked hard enough getting both my sister and me through school."

momo looks surprised at your admission, "oh. i'm sorry. i didn't know you were on scholarship."

you hum, "yeah most people don't assume it from looking at me." you tease a little, flipping your blonde hair over your shoulder and giving a little jingle of your bracelets.

"i'm not materialistic or anything but i enjoy having things that make me look nice y'know?"

she rolls her eyes, placing bandaids carefully onto your fingers.

"you don't need any of those things anyway."

you're caught again, unsure whether that was a compliment or some new way of torturing you.

she clears her throat, "all done."

you look at your hand, cutely littered with some winnie the pooh bandaids she must have found in the first aid kit.

you beam up at her, "thanks!"

she blushes a little and looks away from you, shyly rubbing the back of her neck, "hey look... i can help you study for that test next week if you want. don't want you losing your scholarship over something simple like that. plus i kinda helped go through all the first year math exams for some extra credit with the head of department."

you're shocked at first, and then jumping and squealing, bringing her up with you, "what?! you will?! oh my god thank you!!!!! holy shit oh my god i'm not gonna fail oh shit i'm-"

she's shooshing you in an instant though, a hand clamped over your mouth, eyes darting behind you, "y/n! we're still in a library!"

you grin when she lets you go, whispering loudly, "thank you!"

she's rolling her eyes and letting herself be dragged over to your table, praying that she didn't make the wrong decision deciding to help you.

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

momo's standing outside your lecture theatre, waiting for your class to end. you texted her saying you were getting your final results back today so she decided to pop by and make sure everything was okay.

once students start exiting the class she slips in, walking towards the professor who's packing up her stuff..

"momo! good to see you here. although i'm a little surprised. i wasn't expecting you."

"hey professor kwon. i'm just here to-"

momo's attacked from the back, you're squealing as you latch onto her excitedly, waving a test paper in front of her face, "i passed! momo look i passed! with a 62!!!!! that's higher than i've ever gotten!!!!!"

"miss l/n. i didn't know you knew momo." professor kwon is looking you up and down with a little distaste but you ignore it, squeezing momo even tighter in thanks.

"y/n- stop- wait lemme see that-" she snatches the paper out of your hand and scans it, eyes lighting up when she confirms you did in fact pass.

"congratulations! all that hard work really paid off."

you're blushing, "couldn't have done it without you hirai. c'mon, come out with my friends and i tonight to celebrate!"

"o-oh i don't know about that y/n... i've got-"

"study yeah yeah you always do. but you've gotta relax every now and then you know?"

"miss l/n is right momo. you're the most hardworking student here you should give yourself a break every now and then."

you're nodding fiercely, "right right! thanks professor kim!"

she looks at you with a glare, "kwon. its professor kwon miss l/n."

you're nodding, waving her off shaking momo, "c'mon pleaseeeeeeee? i'll pay for everything. as a thanks for helping me. and i can afford it now too since i won't be losing my scholarship which is also thanks to you so..!"

momo's still uncertain, hand at the back of her neck again, a nervous tick you've picked up on.

"oh professor i just remembered!" you're switching back to your professor, excitement and attention everywhere, "you were looking for outstanding students to tutor next semester right? how about momo? she's the only reason i passed this final and trust me when i say i'm a pretty difficult student to teach."

"oh?" the professor looks towards momo who's eyes have widened, "i had actually planned on asking you regardless but seeing as you were very successful with miss l/n it's just even more proof that you'd be a great teacher. what do you say momo? it's paid decently and great on your academic and work transcripts as well..."

you're looking between your professor and momo with full eyes.

momo looks like she's about to reject the offer, you knew it was because her parents expected her to be back in japan next year but you stop her before she's able to say anything.

"momo! this is great! this is exactly what you need! a job while you're still at uni so you can study at any time but still get paid for it!"

"y/n..."

"it's okay momo. think about it and let me know if you're interested and you've got the job 100%. i've got to get going to my next class now but goodbye girls, congratulations miss l/n but i hope i won't be seeing you in my class next year."

"oh definitely not professor kim!" you wave enthusiastically, giggling at the way the professor sighs in defeat.

you look back at momo who still looks a little stunned.

"well? what do you think?" you ask her excitedly.

"i- i don't know... there's a lot to think about..."

you tilt your head to the side a little in confusion, a gesture momo was beginning to grow fond of.

"i can't just abandon my family y/n. it's a decision that will take me some time to go over." she smiles at you gently, you can't believe this was the same girl who used to call you mean words and intentionally pray on your downfall.

"mm okay. i don't really get it but as long as you're happy in the end it doesn't matter. now c'mon! you coming tonight or not?"

she sighs fondly, "yeah yeah just this once. and we better be home by 12!"

you're pulling her along again scoffing, "riiiiiiiiight 12pm maybe."

"y/n!"

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

momo was most definitely out of her comfort zone. she mostly stuck to the bar, avoiding eye contact with people who tried to approach her. she quickly ordered another drink, hoping the alcohol could at least ease her nerves.

you were most definitely in your zone. you adored being able to dress up and let loose, especially when everyone else is so drunk you’re no longer the only person falling over themselves. you could laugh a little and have fun as well.

you could feel momo’s eyes on you and you ached to drag her out onto the dance floor and join you but she was adamant on staying by the bar when you had tried.

you’re not sure if it was the alcohol or maybe you were just attracted to her now after you’ve spent a whole week studying with her pretty much every minute of every day. but she looked good. you licked your lips as your eyes trailed down the slant of her jawline, her neck and clavicles outlined in the halter top she was sporting. your eyes politely moved past her chest but darted straight down to the abs that she apparently had hidden from the entire student body. how did she even have time to have abs when she always had her nose in a book or was in a lab conducting experiments?

you snap out of it when you realise said abs were moving closer to you for some reason, and suddenly she's all in your space, shoving someone behind you that you hadn't even realised was there in your momo-induced daze.

you turn to see a man with half his shirt unbuttoned and a look of surprise on his face. "the fuck dude?"

momo says nothing, reaching for your drink instead, sticking a finger in and swirling it around for 2 seconds before bringing it to her lips.

that was hot.

"rohypnol."

"what? what the fuck are you on about?" the guy is annoyed, drawing the attention of bystanders as they create a small circle around the three of you, you spot your friends in the crowd looking at you in confusion silently asking what's going on?

you can only shake your head, attention moving back to momo who's standing up straight, almost chest to chest with the guy now.

"rohypnol. a drug belonging to the benzodiazepine class of drugs that inhibits the central nervous system causing the user to experience extreme drowsiness and even blackout in some cases. it can also cause the user memory loss and brings the user to a higher state of intoxication in a rapid amount of time. it's street name is roofies."

the man is sputtering now, "w-what? what is this bullshit? what are you tryna say huh?"

"that you tried to roofie my friend here. do you want me to call the police? have them check this drink for traces of the drug?"

"what!? the fuck?!"

momo sighs, her eyes closing for a second, "is your vocabulary only limited to what? and the fuck? it's getting tiring talking to you."

he's gaping like a fish, the people surrounding you have called security over and they're tying his hands behind his back and he's left squirming against them, yelling more curses as momo stands stoically, watching him get taken away.

she sighs when he's out of sight and turns to you with a smile, "you should be more careful. you could've been hurt tonight."

you can't even think straight and the music is being turned back up, and momo looks so good, you can't help the way you're pulling her in by the waist and planting your lips on hers.

she makes a sound of surprise and is shocked for a second, but closes her eyes and returns the kiss, maneuvering you a little so she can place the spiked drink on a nearby table before her hand returns to you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other on your shoulder.

you're a little desperate when you claw at her abs that are now within touching distance, and she giggles into the kiss. you mutter a small shut up, reattaching your lips, feeling all the adrenaline of the night pumping through you as you mould yourself against her.

"god is it weird that- that kinda turned me on a little?" you're speaking between breaths, her lips swallowing up your words, not letting you catch a break.

she hums lightly against you, "which part?"

"the- when you were talking- about all those chemicals- and whatever-"

she breaks away from you then, an eyebrow arched and a hint of a smirk on her face, "you get off on me talking nerdy?"

you want to wipe that smirk off her face. "take me home and i'll show you what i get off on."

her eyes darken considerably, and she's tugging you towards the exit, grabbing the spiked drink and pouring it down the drain first to make sure no one drinks it. the little action of consideration even when you're both overwhelmed with lust just gets you more wet.

you send a quick text to your friends saying you had to leave early, and then you're in a cab, lips on each other's again, hands roaming and exploring every inch of available skin.

you suppose the one good thing out of that math exam was it bringing the two of you together at last.

[celabi]

expanding on scara cleaning himself up for you. and ppl drooling over him. established relationship

the reader getting petty and possessive

most people probably thought/think scara is part of the small dick community, one millimeter defeater type beat. that is until grey sweat pants season comes along.

homie is in one of his hoodies that you just gave back to him and switched for another bc you like the way he smells and the old one just smells like you now. (he’s bought a new cologne that smells like heaven to you.) and since you basically lived in the hoodie you gave back smells like you hes so happy surrounded by your scent and what not. so much so he doesn’t seem to notice all of the people ogling him.

the sweats he’s wearing just does nothing to hide how big he actually is. even soft and confined by his boxer briefs you can see his dick print. and if one thing is certain it’s that he is no where near small. despite his slim and lean stature he’s fucking hung.

this is the third time this week that scara has worn his sweats and the third time your classmates have tried to get a piece of what your man has to offer.

even on days he doesn’t wear his sweats people are still trying to get at him. seeming to forget that he has a girlfriend. one who as beginning to get increasingly possessive over him.

they all hated scara just a few months ago, wouldn’t even spare him a second glance. they straight up bullied him. and now that he’s with you, he’s all of a sudden drool worthy?!

when you were the only one that noticed him. thought he was cute. helped him get his shit together. and now they want him.

one night while scara was letting you have his way with him it was one of those nights where he just needed to relax and not worry about being in control. a state only you got to see him in, you decided to mark him up as you worshipped his body.(#scara needs praise) love bites and straight up bite marks littered all over his body. even his arms had them. that should be a big enough sign that he is off limits. he’s yours and you don’t share.

the mission failed, apparently being covered in marks didn’t send the message. currently you were coming back from the rest room and saw some random chick getting awfully close to scara. he was blatantly ignoring her. airpods in his ears and everything. it made you giggle knowing the airpods were dead. she was pissing you off more than it bothered him.

you’re next move was out of pure annoyance and pettiness. you pushed your way between the two and sat in scaras lap, his arm instantly wrapping around your waist. the girl still stayed and acted like you didn’t exist. scara was about to say something when he saw an unfamiliar look on your face so he didn’t. you actually started to talk to the bitch. the whole quad was staring at this point. ready to see a fight.

“back off.” you huffed annoyed at the attention but you had a lightbulb moment.

“as a matter of fact all of you cheap whores that keep harassing MY boyfriend. stay. the. fuck. away.” the tone it your voice was terrifying it sounded like you were out for blood. much to your dismay this one single bitch would not get the fucking hint.

“it’s not like you own him. you’re acting like he’s property.”

that’s what set off a rash decision he’d never let you live down. you leaned up and whispered a small sorry. leaving him utterly confused.

“you wanna fucking bet.” with a small smirk to the relentless chick you grabbed scaras chin and guided him into a kiss it was such a possessive kiss that left him breathless. tightening your grip on his chin you forced him to make eye contact with you.

“alright baby answer my questions nice and clear for everyone to hear alright.”

“who left you with all these pretty marks?”

“you did.” his answer was quick and earned a soft goodboy from you.

“who’s dirty panties have you stolen?”

he was a bit taken aback but the humiliating question but nevertheless answered. “yours only yours.”

“who helped you get your life together?”

“you, you helped me so much.”

“before us, what did you jerk off too?”

“your selfies and.. panties”

“who do you belong too?”

“you! i belong to you!” his answer was immediate

“who do love?”

“you, always- only you.”

“just two more after this one. who do i belong to?” at this question you could feel his hot cum on your ass.

“me, you’re mine.”

“mmkay, who do i love?”

this one was actually a little difficult for him bc what if its not him. “me. you love me.”

“good job, last one. did you just cum in your pants?”

“..yeah i did” you pulled him in for another kiss as a reward.

“i’m pretty sure he’s mine. don’t’cha think?”

“so all of you leave him alone thanks.”

he was infact left alone

-why scara came in his pants.

he started to pop a boner when he saw the look of jealousy on your face. it got even worse when you announced to everyone in earshot that they needed to leave him the fuck alone. he was leaking pre by the time you started asking questions. he was biting back whimpers with each answer and each time he got praise. the humiliation factor had him even more turned on. you were so jealous that you were making a point to remind people of who he belonged too. when you asked who you belonged to it caught him and his cock off guard. you wanted people to know you were his as well. fuck thats hot.

you did repeatedly apologize about putting him on blast. even though he said he didn’t care and that he actually thought it was hot.

this turned into an actual fic lmao

-horny thots by nymph just for u.

SKSSKSKSSNJWSNKSKSKSKSKSKSKSKSKKSKSKssOMHOMHOMGOMHOMUSJSNSONSJWOSOODICIJ

HES SO ??????????????????

His earphones are dead but he’s acting like he cant hear her LMAO ☠️☠️

Omg just, listing off all the things you’ve made him do 🥺 asking him how many of your panties he has sniffed and he’s like “… all of them.” 🥺 asking him how many times he’s masturbated to you and he’s like “… too many times to count.” 🥺 Asking him who he’ll love for the rest of his life and he’s like “you… oh god it will always be you.” 🥺 Asking him if he cares about the other girls who are attracted to him and he’s like “no I couldn’t care less.” 🥺 and the other girl is just 🧍‍♀️ wtf am I looking at right now didn’t know you both were tight 😳

Please he’s just so cute and does everything you say. Agrees to anything you ask.

And while you’re sitting on his lap, he’s slowly staring to rut his knee against your pussy cause he’s that turned on by your possessiveness 🥺

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

Transfem Stevie who figures it out when she goes to a gay bar with Robin (post s3?) and meets another transwoman and has a Huh, you can do that? moment.

i sort of Went Off on this one lmaoo. bc im incapable of not steddifying everything this is now T4T Steddie 2: This Time They're Lesbians- with trans girl eddie cracking stevie's egg

PLEASE NOTE: this is set in the 80s, so they use kind of outdated terminology for trans people. also there's a d slur used in a positive, self-ID way. overall the vibes are good but the language is questionable. do with that what you will lol

When Robin asks Steve to be her ‘emotional support heterosexual’ (her words) for her first visit to an Indianapolis gay club, Steve prepares himself for a night of ‘hey, have you met my friend Robin’, pointedly not hitting on any girls, and politely declining offers of drinks and dances from guys until he’s buzzed enough to admit he’s curious. And so far, that’s exactly what he’s been doing. Robin’s off dancing with a girl after Steve assured her about ten times that he’d be fine on his own. He’s just debating whether or not his inhibitions are lowered enough to go dancing when his thoughts are interrupted by a voice to his right.

“Steeeeeeeve Harrington.”

Steve turns, already cringing. Anyone who says his name with a tone like that is someone who is not going to be thrilled with seeing him in a gay club. The thing is, Steve has no idea who this person is. Can’t even really tell if they’re a guy or a girl. Their features are fairly masculine, all lean muscles and square chin, but they’ve got long, wild hair and heavy eye makeup. The cropped muscle tank with ‘Massive Dyke’ printed in lurid red muddies the waters even further.

“Oh, hey… uh…” Yeah, Steve’s pulling a complete blank. They look kind of familiar? He’s definitely seen them around. Somewhere. 

They roll their eyes. “Not surprised King Steve doesn’t recognise me. Especially looking like this. What are you doing here?”

Steve sighs a little. “I’m here with a friend. She was nervous to come alone so I’m here for moral support and wingmanning.”

“Yeah, sure,” they scoff, and Steve frowns even more.

“Look, I know I was a dick in high school. And I’m genuinely sorry if I was a dick to you. But that was four years ago. I’ve grown up, and I’m here to be a good friend. Can you let me do that?”

The person blinks, and then looks a little sheepish. “Okay, yeah, that’s fair,” they say, before extending a hand. “And it’s Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

Steve smiles and shakes the offered hand. “Oh, yeah! You ran that club my kids went to- dungeons and dragons, right? Cool to see you again, dude!”

Eddie’s face does a complicated little wiggle before- “Uh, not a dude, man.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m a girl, now. Still Eddie, though, it’s just short for Edith now. Have you heard of transsexuals?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m pretty new to this. I know, like. Five words.”

“Well, easiest way to put it is that I was born a guy, but I feel more like a girl, so now I’m, like, switching.”

“Switching…” Steve says, trying his best to look genuinely interested and confused. He generally doesn’t struggle too hard to look confused, but he’s a little worried Eddie will think he’s being a dick about it. “You can do that?”

Eddie snorts, gesturing down to herself. “Clearly.”

“Huh,” Steve says. Frankly, this is blowing his mind. “Why doesn’t everyone do that, then? Like, no one likes being a guy.”

“Ye- wait, what?”

“Like, the sexism of being a girl would suck, obviously. But everything else sounds great! Like, you get prettier clothes and you can wear makeup- and girls are so nice to other girls, I've always been kind of jealous of that.”

Eddie looks shocked, but Steve's on a roll now, almost forgetting she's there as he continues thinking aloud. “And like. Girls’ bodies are just. Better, y'know? Like what do guys have, muscles? Girls can have muscles too, but girls are just so… like, everyone wants boobs, right?”

Eddie has a strange look on her face. “I mean, I do. Because I’m transsexual.”

“When you’re transsexual, do you get boobs? Like, do you- wait, is that rude? I feel like I wouldn’t ask another girl about her boobs.”

Eddie’s silent for a moment, looking at Steve in bewilderment, before she seems to collect herself. She takes a swig of her beer and then smiles at him. It looks both welcoming and like she’s in on a secret, and puts Steve at ease. He can see why the kids were so obsessed with her in high school.

“You know what, ordinarily it would be kind of rude, but I have a feeling this conversation is… not what I thought it was gonna be,” she says, and Steve tilts his head a bit in confusion. “So yeah, I do have boobs. You can take estrogen as a little pill, and it basically does puberty for you again. You get boobs, a little extra fat on your hips and thighs, and your skin gets softer. Here, feel.”

And then Eddie takes Steve’s hand and slides it up her shirt. His brain immediately turns off. And yeah, there’s definitely a gentle swell there. They’re small, but Steve can feel the squish of them. Her nipples are pierced. Steve thinks he might die.

“Wow,” he squeaks, about five embarrassing octaves higher than his normal tone. “Cool!”

Eddie grins as she removes his hand from her tit. “Yeah, cool. I’d let you fondle them a little more, sweetheart, but they’re still growing. Kind of sore.”

Steve blushes, rubbing his hand on his thigh and desperately trying to will his boner down. “Man, I wish I could grow boobs,” he sighs, a little wistfully.

“You can, y’know,” Eddie says, with a little chuckle and a soft smile. “What’s stopping you?”

That. Steve hasn’t considered that. A hundred things come to his lips- he’s not like that, he’s not one of those- a hundred things that he knows are absolutely terrible reasons. If Robin were here she’d either be whacking him upside the head or giving him that really sad look she does whenever he’s mean to himself.

“Hey,” Eddie says, speaking softly and laying a gentle hand on Steve’s knee. It shocks him out of his spiral as he looks up into her big brown eyes. “Y’know, I’ve got some makeup in my van. If you wanted to try some things out. No one here will judge you.”

“I- yeah,” Steve is breathless. “I’d like that. Uh- my friend-”

“Oh, is she real? I’ll be honest, I kinda thought you were doing the ‘oh I’m not gay I’m just here for a friend’ thing.”

Laughing, Steve looks out over the crowd. “No, she’s real. Let me just let her know I’ll be gone for a moment- honestly she’s probably halfway to third base with some girl anyway-”

And sure enough, Robin is more than ready to let Steve wander off once he peels her off a pretty girl on the opposite side of the club. He rejoins Eddie, who leads him down the street towards her van and helps him into the back. She takes out her makeup bag, cracking jokes about their wildly different styles while she delicately brushes powder over his face. She generously refrains from threatening to take his eye out with the eyeliner pencil (more than once at least), and apologises for not having anything more ‘babygirl’ than her bright red lipstick. Steve can definitely say this is the most fun he’s ever had in the back of a van.

Finally, masterpiece done, Eddie rummages in her bag for a little compact, presenting it to Steve with a dumb little bow. Steve takes it with a roll of his eyes, and prepares himself with a deep breath.

The person in the mirror is beautiful. Glowing skin, huge doe eyes lined with smokey eyeliner and lashes a mile long, practically sinful lips. Steve almost doesn’t recognise himself, except that he does. He really, really does, in a way he now realises he never really has before. It’s the first time he’s ever looked at his face in the mirror and not wanted to change anything.

“You’re a really pretty girl, Stevie,” Eddie says with a gentle smile.

Steve can’t look away from the mirror. “Yeah,” she says, a red-lipped grin stretching across her face. “I really am.”

[brain-rot-central]

Is Tav keeping her pregnancy secret still bc she thinks AA will be too controlling and wants to hang on to her independence until she has to tell him or?? Kinda wondering bc in the last chap she was thinking about how he hides things from her lol 🙈

Basically.

There's also the whole thing where she doesn't trust him anymore post-ascension. She loves him but AA asking her to sacrifice her mortality as the only way to prove her love for him cut her deeply. Astarion has also always been a touch of a liar, bending truths to fit the perceived narrative he wants to give off. She realizes that will be a struggle with him, too. Basically the whole situation will be work, if she's considering getting back with him.

At this point in the fic, she's trying to see if she can trust him again, and is considering that maybe she was wrong to immediately reject his offer to live out their days together in immortality.

She really doesn't know what to do right now and is trying to "feel out" which direction to go in. The obvious answer would be to leave him, but that was before she got pregnant. She didn't plan on getting pregnant, or even thought that she would. Tav really thought they could just have a casual relationship because, let's be honest, the sex with Astarion is amazing and who the hell wouldn't want that lmao. Ain't no shame in the girl wanting some good dick.

She slept with Astarion multiple times during their journey together and she never fell pregnant, likely due to him being a severely underfed vampire spawn. Because of that, she, nor he, realized this was even a possibility now. He still doesn't. Tav is at least trying to do what she feels is the right thing in this situation by giving their relationship a second chance. Astarion deserves an opportunity to be a father, but he has to come to his senses enough for that to happen. Anyone can make a child, but that doesn't mean you deserve to be a parent.

AA kind of looks at Tav coming back to him as a victory. That he played his cards well enough that she let him start pulling at her strings. He has a horrible need for control in any and all situations, and grows increasingly paranoid when things aren't going as he planned. He does not like being confronted about who he is or was, and is jealous of how much Tav cared for who he was pre-ascension.

To him, he doesn't understand why she can't accept him as he is now. He sees no wrong in what he did or the man he's become, as he did it in part for her. For them. To him, he's self-less in his endeavors. He'll burn the entire world to the ground if it means keeping her safe. He'll share his whole palace and all of his riches with her. He'll put her in the very best of everything; she'll have choice blood to drink everyday and will never know what it's like to be on the brink of starvation.

He will never tell her he loves her, as the word is tainted and in a way admits vulnerability, but he'll do his very best to show her. But he needs her to trust him in delivering her into the night. Trust him to make good on what he says, that the whole experience will go by in a flash, completely pain free. Entirely different from his experience. And they'll live out their eternal lives together with her forever by his side. They'll be the most feared couple in Faerûn, and have songs written about them.

Though until she agrees to let him do that, AA will continue to play his game.

Tav wants him to respect her decision to remain mortal if they're going to be together, even if it means she dies from old age. Because that's her decision to make. It's her life. Astarion shouldn't take that from her, or need that for him to accept her love for him.

But the thought of Tav dying or becoming old and frail terrifies him, because deep down he loves her. He's so deeply connected to her emotionally that the thought of her no longer existing one day shakes him to the core. It's a major fear he has (although he'll never admit it), that she will pass before he has the opportunity to turn her, or in his mind, "save her."

The TL;DR answer is they're two idiots who are still in love with one another but neither of them knows how to just come out and say it.

Hence, the events of Sonnet lmao. Hope this clarified some stuff for you!

[strawberrystepmom]

!!!!! will you pretty please share more lore around your black clover sona? 🤲🏾

well now that you’ve given me license to yap be aware that i will….you have been warned.

but let me start with the basics about kendall the eldest daughter of house melro, nicknamed the blackbird.

- 11 siblings, two of which are full and the other nine are half. ten of these siblings are girls and the youngest is a boy. lord melro is a serial philanderer, it is what it is.

- mother was clover kingdom nobility, father is diamond kingdom nobility. their marriage was arranged and my mother’s family is wayyyyyy wealthier so it was an easy sell for my dad whose family was minor nobility in diamond. he hasn’t been back to diamond since and doesn’t really care what’s happening there lmao and my dad inherited her fortune and titles when she died when i was 16.

- was once heir to everything, thanks to the rules of my mother’s house that have always allowed an eldest daughter to become head because she was an eldest daughter and had all sisters, but once the youngest and only boy was born my father changed his mind. marrying me off became imperative at that point. he was born when i was 17 and a year out from debuting.

- i received a grimoire at 15 and waffled about my desire to join the magic knights for a bit too long and when my mom died, i decided to stay home and take care of my siblings. all of them. at the time there were 8 of us.

okay and onto the juicy stuff which i will put below a cut for everyone’s sake. this is the master of whispers stuff, etc etc.

- the wizard king attends a classroom session for a group of noble girls to oversee how the magic in the kingdom is developing. my magic is movement based and he found my spell translucent cloak very fascinating because it allows me to remain move completely unseen and undetected for 60 seconds. i can use this ability on up to four other people around me but there is a ten second penalty for each person added meaning if i have four people and myself, we have 10 seconds to move.

- he asks me if i would be interested in joining the magic knights and i told him due to my responsibilities at home, I believe it’s better for me to stay behind. he’s disappointed but understands and a couple years later, he asks me again bc there’s a lot of buzz about my debut which was a whole thing and i decline again bc my father wants me to be married immediately but im like visibly upset so Julius offers a strange alternative - to be his ears. im popular in noble circles, im trusted, people dont suspect a thing about me and he knows my magic is beneficial for subterfuge and diversion if i’d ever need it

- I agree but I’m extremely skeptical about how this will work out. this dude barely knows me, I barely know him and he’s putting a lot of trust in me. it ends up working out splendidly though because i have an ear for the good stuff, naturally, and people open up to me. i dont report anything to him except for things that could potentially be problematic in the future and he’s pleased with my performance

- i am proposed to by a nobleman not long after this begins and i turn it down. my dad is patient with this one and understands to some degree that I want to be at home to take care of the kids which he won’t complain about so he can go be a dick elsewhere. after that, three more come and I turn each of them down because I don’t want to have to choose between men I hardly want to be in the same room with and working for Julius and defending my country in my own way

- by the fourt failed proposal (im 22 when this happens) my dad doesn’t find it cute anymore bc now he has a real heir and he just wants to get me out of the house. he tells me the next one i have to go through with regardless and we fight about it but I ultimately agree but plan to basically scare away any suitors that come. I continue working for Julius as expected and he begins to trust me even further, appointing me his spymaster although it’s not a formal title.

so yeah! it only becomes more useful as time passes and of course this is a very secretive position and nobody knows about it. people have suspected but nobody can prove anything and until I met yami, I intended on keeping it to myself. I told him and he was maaaaaaaad at me and assumed I was spying on him at first but once he confirms everything with Julius he gets over himself

Julius legit tells him “she’s terrible at deception but wonderful at making friends. she’s a natural” and who is he to disagree

[angeldreamsoffanfic]

so i had this idea and will potentially turn it into a full fic bc it’s just spiraling around and taking control of my two brain cells so just here is my brain dump of this okay

alpha!eddie x omega!steve with alpha!chrissy x omega!robin, with a modern au / dating app little twist.

follow me here okay —

•••

omega!steve who cares so much for his pups, but all six of them haven’t presented yet so while they can offer some comfort to steve during his heats— it’s not enough. (in my mind, heats/ruts aren’t a sexual thing in this universe so let’s just roll with it ok thank you kiss).

omega!steve whose pups beg him to try and let beta!jonathan and alpha!nancy nest with him, to scent him- but the heartbreak is too fresh and honestly? ever since nancy and jonathan mated, steve isn’t comforted by nancy’s scent as much anymore so honestly it’s kind of a fruitless effort.

and steve promises that nesting with the pups is enough for him for now, and all six of the pups are okay with that for now. so they nest with steve and it’s so much fun.

max, who hasn’t ever really nested before enjoys the comfort of steve’s scent and snuggling up close to him. she likes that she can tuck herself in his side and listen to him gripe about the movies they picked, and maybe she likes holding lucas’s hand too.

dustin, who only has ever nested with his mom really enjoys the comfort that being with his friends gives and steve brings. and steve let’s him watch any movie he wants, which dustin takes as a really big win.

lucas, who has nested before (he has his parents and little sister), but there’s just… something a bit different about letting steve scent him, and he’s able to hold hands with max and that’s really nice okay?

will, whose dad was a dick of an alpha and his mom and older brother are betas so they just… they don’t nest. but will likes it! he likes helping steve sort out the blankets and the snacks and he can’t really explain it but he doesn’t get why some alphas say that boys shouldn’t be omegas…

mike, who okay- he sometimes doesn’t really like steve okay? he grew up with his parents, a really traditional alpha x omega couple, and his dad had kinda flipped when nancy presented as an alpha. so maybe there is a little prejudice there because mike has listened to his father murmur things about steve being an omega, but… is it really a bad thing? mike isn’t sure, but he helps the older boy nest when will asks, because it’s will and… fuck, okay, maybe mike can picture nesting with will sometimes, okay- like a lot of the time okay?

eleven, who was trapped in the lab and doesn’t even really understand the whole alpha, beta, and omega thing— but she knows she likes when steve holds her chin and scents at her pack gland. she knows he cried when she let out a pup trill the first time. eleven knows okay, she knows even if people sometimes thinks she’s stupid.

and they slip into a pack, maybe on purpose or on accident… and it just works okay. they’re all pack. the six pups and their pack!omega.

still, the pups can’t help but be excited when steve meets robin, who hasn’t presented yet and that’s a rare thing in itself so they’re hopeful…

until robin presents as an omega and tells steve that she likes girls when steve comforts her. robin quietly explains that she only likes alpha!girls and steve shrugs and says that’s fine because he likes alpha!girls and alpha!guys so really it’s okay that she has a preference.

cue steve then formally inviting robin into his pack. steve probably explains it’s not much, just him and a bunch of un-presented pups… but it’s home, and steve promises she’ll always have a home with him if she wants. robin cries, and very quickly agrees- much to the chagrin of her alpha x omega parents who are very adamant that two omegas can’t run a successful pack.

the pups are so excited when robin joins the pack though. they like how steve and robin act around each other, they like how robin is able to get steve to calm down when the omega gets a little too protective. they like how steve helps out with guiding robin through being an omega, and they can’t help but hope that the two older teens will one day help them out when they all present.

(robin and steve of course made a pact that they’ll both help out as much as they can for their pups when they all present).

but now they’re at the beginning again and fuck.

but one day, the pups are watching t.v. at steve’s house waiting for the two omegas to get home for work, and they see an ad come on the t.v.. it’s an ad for a scenting app, where both omegas and alphas can match up for scenting purposes.

the pups then bring it to the attention of steve and robin, and while the two omegas are a little apprehensive… neither of them can really resist when the pups trill and make puppy-dog eyes at them.

so the two omegas say fuck it and they both get the app of their phones and sign up for the thing.

•••

on the other side of things, we have alpha!eddie and alpha!chrissy. and just, just follow me here-

alpha!eddie and alpha!chrissy. everyone had kind of expected eddie to present as an alpha, i mean, come on. he was loud and brash and goofy, but if you needed help he’d do anything he could to try and help you.

but alpha!chrissy? now that throws people for a fucking loop. her parents were the very traditional alpha x omega couple, who believed that omegas should be silent and small and never ever heard. so when chrissy presents as an alpha and snaps her teeth at her dad when he tries to talk down to her?

they kick her out.

but it’s fine! because alpha!eddie and beta!wayne are there, and they teach her the ins and outs of everything. eddie shows her how to make herself scent safe, how to control her emotions and not want to snap her teeth at everyone.

it’s nice, all three of them living together, really.

until, wayne starts to get a little annoyed about the two constantly wanting to scent him. he does get it, really, but he’s not their pack and he can’t keep going to work at the mechanic shop smelling like the two alpha teenagers. so, he very nicely (as nicely as he can) asks that they find an omega or just anyone to scent that isn’t him.

chrissy jokes about making a dating app for the people out there like them… and shit, okay, that actually isn’t a bad idea and eddie happens to be pretty tech savvy… so they make a fucking app.

it takes a while, but they eventually figure it out and launch it… and it does really fucking well. like eddie is able to quit his job and chrissy changes her college classes from whatever she had been doing to focus solely on a tech degree, really well.

but, the two don’t sign up for it themselves.

they feel kinda… skeezy they think? like why should the app developers sign up for the service themselves, y’know? especially since they keep omegas and their safety the priority on the app, they don’t want to take advantage of anything okay?

and the app’s popularity just snowballs (thanks to social media), and chrissy graduates with honors from her school… but they two alphas are lonely. wayne’s moved out and subsequently moved in with his beta!girlfriend, so it’s ends up just being the two alphas in their two-bedroom apartment in indianapolis. and it works, i mean, the two can offer as much comfort as they can to each other during their ruts… but even though they see and recognize each other as pack, it’s not enough.

so, after a bottle of wine- they both make profiles.

•••

steve and robin are both surprised when they match with eddie and chrissy, but they roll with it because talking to the two alphas is nice. they’re pretty too, according to their profile description and they think their scents probably smell lovely.

they talk for a while, about the small town and their pack (though they keep it light and don’t dip too deep into describing it for the pups and their own safety). it gets to a point where the four are talking every day to their prospective partners, and then eddie finally asks if he could come visit. chrissy ends up asking robin too after, and the two omegas talk and agree.

hawkins isn’t a far drive from indianapolis, just shy of two hours— and eddie books a room at the small bed and breakfast for a couple of days so they can potentially all get to know each other a little better.

the two alphas still think it’s insane and super coincidental that they found two omegas from the same small town, who are both in a pack and they hope that the two get along enough that maybe in the future they can connect their packs.

(robin and steve have both figured out that eddie and chrissy are pack, but again they don’t want to jeopardize their safety to the pups’ safety so they keep their soulmate-friendship on the down low).

steve and robin both suggest a quick meet at the local coffeehouse in downtown hawkins, just to make sure they aren’t all serial killers before the potential of planning a longer date. eddie and chrissy both agree, because yeah they’d prefer to be close by to each other anyway just in case the omegas are catfishing them or something weird.

imagine their utter surprise though when they see omega!steve and omega!robin already sitting down together. the two omegas come clean to the two alphas, and the alphas can’t help but sing their praises to the two omegas. it was a safe and smart thing to do, and no they aren’t mad at the two pretty smelling and pretty looking omegas.

and so talk and drink coffee and hot chocolate, and both eddie and chrissy keep sending each other looks because okay what is going on? steve and robin are practically one brain and one person, the way that they both kind of revolve around each other.

shortly after, steve and robin explain their pack dynamics— that is the two of them plus six pups. eddie and chrissy find this interesting and funny, and ask to meet them whenever possible. both steve and robin agree, though they don’t really put terms on it. eddie and chrissy explain that they’re both pack bonded, but it’s just them, and they’re willing to go at whatever pace steve and robin set.

the rest of the three-day trip goes by super well, though robin and steve don’t introduce their pups to eddie and chrissy just yet.

imagine eddie and chrissy’s surprise when their home phone rings a few weeks later after not having heard from the omegas for almost a week.

it’s a younger girl on the phone named max, she got their number from the yellow pages- and she is pretty sure she’s boiling alive from the inside out… oh and steve and robin have been in heat for way too fucking long and are showing no sign of coming out of it really anytime soon…

queue eddie and chrissy driving to loch nora, and being surprised when five pups stumble out- and they’re all talking over each other asking for them to help their pack!omegas and whatever-the-hell max is presenting as.

the two alphas agree and stumble inside, and are immediately hit with the scents that are running through the harrington-buckley house.

familiarity, home, belonging, and pack.

[gold-rhine]

sub Kazuha x Gn! Dom Reader

A\N: Repost bc my previous blog got shadowbanned.  I would describe this as melancholy fluff with some smut and a tinge of poetry. Kind of a slowburn, as much as you can get in a oneshot. and yeah, the preface is tanka, not haiku, but tanka worked better

Warnings: nsfw, but not focused on porn. Cock stands for dick\strap as usual. Edging, overstim, praise, oral, semi-public.

wordcount: 3k

He watches the hills,\ red asters on the lush of green, \ not knowing summer \ is madly in love with him \ and flowers bloom for him alone

You meet him at a party, he’s a friend of a friend. You notice how he sweeps his crimson eyes over you with interest, but don’t pay too much attention. He doesn’t seem like anything special at a glance. He’s pretty, sure, but nothing outstanding, a build on the smaller side, but not enough to be distinctly slender or feminine, just a little short. He’s thin in a wiry kind of way, his skin too tough and weathered from the constant exposure to sun and wind. Someone else could take this brilliant white hair with a red streak and turn it into something striking, but he just keeps it in a ruffled sideways ponytail.

He’s quiet, unassuming, introverted, doesn’t shy away from people, but doesn’t shine either, few thoughtful remarks and a sweet smile. You deem him nice, but boring, and proceed to ignore him. He’s tactful and understanding enough to catch on, and doesn't try to press himself on you.

This night you leave with someone else and easily forget about him.

Next time you meet him, it’s at another party and he’s consoling a crying girl in a corner. She’s choking on her sobs and he’s talking to her, quietly but firmly, you can’t make out the words, but even from afar you can sense the steadfast kindness in his calm voice. You realize it’s better to not interrupt, but give him a glass of water as you pass by. He hands it to the girl and offers you a brief, grateful smile. Next thing you hear about her after some time is that she finally left her asshole boyfriend for good when everyone already gave up on trying to convince her.

Some time after, you two are in the same company again, this time it’s a bohemian group and you’re trespassing in a closed park. You don’t expect him to go along with it, since he seems so quiet and timid, but he actually scales the high iron gates first without hesitation, perches on top and helps others climb.

He looks strikingly different in motion. Easy on his feet, agile, he doesn’t show off, but there’s an elegance of precision in his movements. When he pulls you up by the hand, you lean over him just a little too close and stay just a moment too long. You see the moment he realizes it’s intentional when he looks up at you, his eyes widening, just a brush of pink on his cheeks.

“I didn’t expect this from you,” you tell him, grinning. “You seem like a such a goody-two-shoes.”

He blushes harder, but gives you a wry smile.

“I have a lot of unexpected sides.”

“Then I’m looking forward to finding out,” you wink at him, let go of his hand and jump down, hearing him take a shaky breath behind your back.

Next time you at the same party, he gets a little drunk, and when it comes to risque games that he usually passes over, he sits down, swirls the bottle, and it looks like he knew it would point at you because he throws you a glance, blushing, even before the bottle stops twirling.

You two go into a small, dusty closet, stand between the old, crinkly clothes, and you expect him to be timid, but he suddenly reaches for you, presses his lips to yours firmly. You answer his kiss and feel him melt against you, his soft lips tasting sweet like fruity liquors he was drinking. The sharp sting of herbs kept there against the moth and the smell of Kazuha’s heated skin mix together into a unique blend, he’s warm and firm in your arms. When you run your hand down his body, he makes a cute noise against your mouth, bends his back a little and you can feel the lace of some old dress scratching at your fingers as you move. This is the first time you notice his ability to sharpen the reality around himself, make the insignificant details turn into a unique, unforgettable poetry.

You break the kiss and move away with a sigh, meeting his intent, searching eyes, his arms still around your neck.

“Maybe when you’re sober, baby.”

He bites his lip in frustration, but lets you go. For the rest of the evening, you keep your eye on him to make sure no one takes advantage of his vulnerable state, but he soon falls asleep on the sofa in the corner of the room. When you gently put a blanket over him, he stirs, quietly mutters your name. You smile and press a quick kiss against his temple and leave him to rest.

Few days later when you walk through the woods near the river, you hear faint sounds of music. Curious, you go through the bushes and see Kazuha sprawled on a large sun-warmed rock on the riverside, playing a harmonica, a couple of cats curled around him.

“Hey.”

He jolts up, surprised, disturbing one of the cats. Then he sees that it’s you and relaxes with a small smile. Grey cat huffs indignantly and goes back to sleep. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here, casting a spell to attract the cats?” you ask with a smirk, walking up closer.

He shakes his head with a soft, quiet laughter.

“I like relaxing on warm rocks and the cats like it too. It’s just a happy coincidence.”

“Hmm, I don’t know if I buy that you’re not casting an enchantment. You’ve also attracted me after all.”

“Have I?” he asks quietly, but intensely, his voice trembling just a little, looking up at you with hopeful, questioning eyes.

You lean down, catch his chin and feel him tense under your fingers. You smile, slowly and gently stroke the tender underside of his jaw, watching his eyes lid over.

“Tomorrow, at noon, this place. Show me a truly unexpected side.”

Next day at noon he’s sitting at the same rock, completely naked, watching the river, his back to the road. He feels so nervous, all of his nerve endings raw and sensitive, even slight tickling of high grass stalks around the rock reaching up to his legs resonates sharply, intense midday sunshine feels like a heavy touch. He’s not really noticeable from the road behind the thick bushes of wild briar roses, but the risk of being seen like this is there anyway. He looks at the dark waters of the river with long ribbons of gently swaying water plants, with his heart beating so loudly in his ears that he almost misses the sound of your steps.

You run your hand from his sharp shoulderblades down his spine, very lightly, just the fingertips, and he shivers. When you gently turn him over, press his back against the warm rock and whisper “You managed to surprise me once again. Good boy,” against his neck, he gasps, and when your hand slides down his body, it finds his cock already hard for you, his legs falling apart in invitation. He makes the sweetest moans, air trembling around in a hazy summer heat, smelling sharply of the river and bittersweet mix of grass and flowers. He watches bright red petals of briar roses swirl down the dark green water currents while he himself is losing control as you fuck him, his moans breaking into screaming as he gets closer and finally comes.

He’s not very experienced, but very curious and open to experiments, has no problem admitting when he likes something, even if he blushes adorably while doing so. He likes spontaneity, taking risks and not knowing what to expect. You like teasing him while you two are visiting some new place, - first of all, he’s a joy to travel with, easygoing, surprisingly shrewd, good humored enough to turn inconveniences into something to laugh about. He has adventurous and sharp senses to always find something interesting even in places he’s never been before, but also has so much sincerity and sense of wonder that even most mundane and boring things turn interesting in his presence, your own little poetry lens.

One night he leads you off the main street through twisting alleyways to find a  small town square with a festival of firedancers. When you ask him how did he know, he laughs “I heard the drums and smelled the burning oil, it was bound to be something interesting.” There’s music and cheap wine, and beautiful performances all around, people dancing with burning staffs and poi, flaming spheres on the chains, swirled in both hands. He watches with quiet excitement, biting his lip like he can’t decide whether or not do something, and you nudge him gently.

“Why don’t you try it too, if you want?”

He looks up at you with a shy smile. “I don’t know, you think I could?”

You grin with reassurance. “Of course! Just wait a second,“ you tie his hair up in a small bun to keep from getting burned and let him go. “here, now you’re ready.”

He almost hits himself in a face with fireball at first, but quickly adjusts, his natural dexterity leading his movements, red flares of pois twirling around him with a flourish. He meets your eyes, his own radiant and crimson, fire trailing circles around him, and suddenly the night focuses itself around him, all other dancing lights becoming flashes of red leaves swirling in the darkness, while in the center of it he smiles brilliantly just for you.  

Later, in a small dorm room next to a big hall where the new friends you made at the festival are celebrating wildly, he rides you, slightly burnt fingertips gripping at your shoulders, bright red wax sliding down his arched back, and his deliriously sweet moans drown in the noise of drunken songs and laughter.

He’s also so fun to play with, slowly wind up during the day as you two are just exploring around. He loves feeling like he’s always open for you, even if people around don’t realize, that you can have your way with him at any moment, drag him into the secluded alleyway or a dim arc and kiss him, grope or even push him down on his knees and use his obedient, sweet mouth.

You make some great memories that way too. Finding a small private courtyard drowning in wisteria and peonies, where you two eat lunch on the carved bench. The big street where a litter of puppies escapes it’s owner and runs after him, so he has to catch and give them back, laughing with an armful of puppies trying to lick him.   A small café overlooking the sea, where people on the boats wave at you and you wave back, smiling, seagulls are screaming overhead and begging for crumbs, and when you kiss him, his lips taste of seasalt and caramel dessert he just ate. He’s on his knees on the cracked teal tiles of the public bathroom, his shirt ridden up high enough to expose his puffy pink nipples and his pants down to his thighs, showing his hard, red dick that twitches and leaks as he’s moaning around your cock, his wet gleaming eyes lidding over and your hand buried in his soft hair.

For him, it feels like being carried by a whirlwind, butterflies in his stomach and a translucent swirly current overlaying over the day, punctuated by red splashes of lust that only sharpen everything around. His clothes are buggy enough to hide his arousal, and from time to time you catch his quick excited glances, slight blushes, enjoy how lovely he is in this luminous sharp desire, how you can make him tremble and his breath hitch by just rubbing the back of his neck or drawing circles on his elbow. At the end of the night, sometimes you fuck him roughly, make him come fast, and sometimes you stroke his pretty, swollen cock for so long without letting him cum that he’s writhing in front of you, whimpering and begging incoherently, oversensitive to every touch, tied hands clawing at the sheets. Sometimes he feels like even though he’s free, his heart is clear, but empty, and so the passion you draw from him, extreme, overwhelming emotions make him feel truly alive.

It’s a few months into knowing him he tells you of his past, scarcely, not empathizing, very matter of factly, the disgrace of his clan, his unfair persecution and exile, his travels and struggles. After, you tie him up and kiss and caress every centimeter of his body until he’s delirious with pleasure, make him come again and again. You feel like you have a unique treasure, a golden shard of sunshine in your hands, a rare case when innate kindness doesn’t break or dim under the hardships, but instead only strengthens, brightens with experience and wisdom despite the young age.

One night when you’re exploring a new city, you’re caught in the rain and ran, laughing, to the nearby dingy eatery that is still open at this time. It’s in the semi-basement, so you can see at the street level how streetlights are flickering, blurred in the falling rain currents and puddles, and the cheap lamp over your small table is flickering too. Kazuha is shamelessly perched in your lap, because nobody there cares, your arm around his waist, a little drunk from light beer he’s having, but mostly from how you look at him, his features beautiful and soft, his smell of rain on clean skin and forest leaves overcomes the stuffy sour air around. He truly blooms from attention and certainty that he is wanted, becomes more talkative and excited, starts telling you a funny story about his adventures with his fiend Beidou, widely gesticulating with his hands. Sometimes you catch his hand and kiss his knuckles and he giggles cutely. Your hand slides under his shirt and then under the band of his pants, first just covers his hipbone, but then slowly, teasingly starts moving down his stomach in lazy, light circles, and he doesn’t resist, just tenses, flushed and squirming in your lap, looking into your eyes, your hungry gaze promising what you’ll do to him later.

In the cheap room you're renting for the night you have to fuck him on the floor, bedcover thrown underneath, because the old bed creaks horribly if you even breath on it. His mouth is stuffed with a pillowcase to muffle his involuntary moans and whimpers, because the cheap walls are too thin, and his eyes are rolling over helplessly as you whisper how beautiful and good he is in his ear.

It’s almost sunrise when he’s curled against you on the bed, the sky in a small round window in front of you is clear and vast after the rain, pearly grey and illuminated from within in the wake of dawn. The silhouettes of the buildings are striking against that background, the whole world beautiful and tender like a watercolor painting. He tells you quietly of his friend, his feelings never spoken out loud, and an untimely death that made sure he’ll never be able to express them.

“I made my peace with it,” he says softly, watching the first rays of sun glimmer on the peaks of the highest towers. “I just feel like I’m… not enough for something grander. I’m just a short haiku in the lives of others.”

There’s a lot to say to that. First of all, how much he really has to offer, but also how clarity of a perfect haiku can change life better than the longest poem. But more importantly, how he is enough as he is, how he is a pleasure to be near just by existing, no special effort needed on his part. When you move to hover over him and caress his body, the bed creaks long and loud, but you ignore it. As he’s melting under your touch, he bites his hand to keep quiet, but you gently pull it out, kiss the bitemark.

“But.. I will make noises, I can’t help it,” he whimpers softly, looking up at you while your fingers circle his entrance.

“It’s okay, sunshine,” you tell him, pressing kisses to his jaw, corner of his lips, side of his neck, gentle curve of his collarbones. “You deserve the world. Just enjoy yourself. I’ll tell whoever complains to fuck off.”

He bites his pink swollen lip, whines sweetly and arches his back as you thrust your fingers inside him, his white fluffy hair covering the pillow under. Even on the shittiest old bed, in the cheapest dingy room, he’s perfect.

[nctsplug02]

hi saw u accepting requests is it okay to ask for gym date (basically jaehyun dragging you to gym with him) you guys have separate trainers he got busy with his thing then suddenly a guy told u you're doing the wrong thing and offered to help only to see jaehyun standing at the back of the guy bc go get your girl! thank you <333

[10:01pm]

genre: fluff and suggestive

warnings: kissing, flirting, working out, fingering, sexual talking and sexual touching.

you giggle and thank your husband when he holds the gym door open for you. “for the lady.” he says standing next to it like a solider. “thank you, kind sir.” you wink before heading it.

“alright,” you yelp when a smack is landed on your ass. “let’s go find our trainer.” he wraps his arm around your waist and drags you around the amazingly huge gym.

“we have our own gym at home and we decided to go—?”

“—to the gym with a personal trainer who’ll professional train us.” he cuts you off and finishes.

you sigh, “could’ve just hired them and invited them over to our gym.” you mumble and jaehyun hums. “found him— them?” you look where he’s at and you see two men standing by the weights.

he leads you to them and they immediately greet the both of you with handshakes. “so, this is albert. he’s a bit new and he’ll be helping y/n. is that fine?” you look at jaehyun before nodding. “perfect. alright, shall we start?” the four of you agree to starting so daniel, jaehyuns trainer, took jaehyun to do leg press.

and while you and albert. you were standing and waiting for alberts instructions. “alright, this is 20lbs, can you lift it?” you duck under the poll and you put your legs together before lifting it onto your shoulders. “ou, it’s light.” you say before squatting.

“ah,” he winces and you panic, quickly standing up and putting the bar back onto the holder. “did i hit you? step on your foot? bump into you?” he chuckles at your worried state. “nope, not at all, babe.” the nickname catches you off guard.

“okay—okay, stand with the bar above your shoulders again.” you duck until the bar is above your shoulders again. “now, spread your legs a bit.” you part your legs by a few inches and he chuckles.

you gasp and look down between your legs when feeling his hand above your knee. “j… ust a bit more.” he extends and finally he hand is moved from your thigh.

“alright, im gonna have you do at least fifteen. we need full on squats. start whenever you’re ready to.” you nod, gripping the bar more. fixing your fingers and shifting it above your shoulders.

you lifted it off the holder and you exhaled sharply before dropping down slowly and pushing back up. you do another one before being stopped.

“okay, you aren’t doing it correctly and that’s fine. i’ll show you how.” as you go to put the bar back onto the holder, a body is pressed behind you. “oh, i thought—?” he puts his hands on your hips and his head is near your left side.

“you weren’t going low as needed. you need to go lower to build more muscle in your legs so this is how low you’ll go.” you hesitate before lowly lowering yourself.

your ass pushing into his pelvis and you immediately shoot up. “you alright?” he asks you when noticing your panicked figure. “yeah, uh.. just personal space, y’know?” he nods and moves his hands up to your waist.

that was not the personal space you meant.

“let’s try it again. slower this time.” as you lower yourself you could feel something hard poke your ass. “i uh,” you quickly shoot up again and his hand slips off your waist. “maybe we should—?” you stumble to your left when feeling your arm being yanked.

you look up to see jaehyun. “we’re gonna cut this short today.” albert looks at you and jaehyun confused. “oh, why?” you look at albert then jaehyun then albert.

“alright, let’s cut the shit. you’re fired. stop touching my wife. stop trying to stick your dick in her. piss the fuck off.” albert watches as a grin grows on your face.

as jaehyun drags you out the gym, you cling onto his arm. “im sorry.” he unlocks the car and opens the door for you.

his silence scares you.

after he climbs in and exits the parking lot, he finally speaks. “why’re you apologizing, babe?” you chew your bottom lip. “because i didn’t speak up for myself.” you could his a soft laugh from him. “you don’t have to apologize, baby. you didn’t do anything wrong. not a thing.”

he reaches over and places a hand on your thigh. “let’s just put our gym at home to use— m’kay?” you nod, placing your hand on his. “thank god.” he chuckles at your exaggeration.

your lips twitch as his hand moves closer towards your heat. two hearts heated from two different places.

your thighs squeeze more around his hand as he softly rubs your clothed pussy through your leggings. “i can feel how wet you are.” your eyes follow the street sign after jaehyun takes a different turn.

“w—we were supposed to then that way?” you point to the rig huff after he makes a left. “don’t worry.” he sounded like a kidnapper.

“spread your legs for me, baby.” he says patting your inner thigh. slowly, you spread your legs open. giving him for access to your pussy. “pull your leggings down.” you yank your jeans and panties down making jaehyun take several quick glances.

“fuck,” he mutters and shifts in his seat. he reaches down and rubs your slit. “oh, fuck.” he hisses and he feels your wetness just slather all over his fingers.

you gasp when he hits the brake after pulling into an empty area. “scoot your chair back, babe. make space for me.” you grab the handle and you push your chair back. jaehyun shuts the car off and climbs over the console to you.

his finger slips into your hole making you gasp lightly. “ahh,” he chuckles softly and groans. “look how easily my finger just slipped in. are you wet for me?” you nod, biting on your bottom lip. “just for you.”

“for who?” he puts a hand behind his ear.

“j—just you!” you squeal and he leans down. pressing a kiss on your lips.

it was always and only for him.

[starbuckie]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing(s): college!peter parker x reader, dark!steve rogers x reader, dark!sam wilson x reader, dark!bucky barnes x reader

words: 8.1k words

warnings: DARK!FIC, SMUT 18+ (unprotected sex, foursome turned fivesome, gangbang, non-con/dub-con, daddy kink, oral M and F-receiving, spit kink, degredation kink, praise kink, creampie), age-gap (reader is in her early 20s), cheating, angst, there’s like zero fluff

summary: peter should’ve made it back to the tower for date night on time, or maybe just before he found his girlfriend being fucked by three other superheroes.

a/n: eee my first dark fic! im so so happy with the way this turned out, and even though it was a pain in my ass for nearly three months, im so hapy to share it with y’all. this idea was brought up by an anon from @mypoisonedvine’s saturday sleepover a few months back, but i switched up tony and sam bc i didn’t like the tony and peter stuff. hopefully my smut has improved from the first time i wrote it in january, and just a reminder that in no way, shape, or form do i condone rape of any kind. there’s a large difference from the page and the real world. i try to put all tw’s in the tags and warnings, but if there was something i missed please tell me. thank you to my lovely bestie @mermaidxatxheart for beta-reading(i have no fucking clue what i’d do without your help). feel free to leave a comment or two and reblog, but don’t repost anywhere or i will hunt down your ass. thank you again and please please enjoy <3

main masterlist || mcu masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

Bucky wasn’t planning to fuck Y/N as soon as he saw her.

It started with a faint mention, something Tony had thrown around along the lines of, “Parker’s bringing his girl down here tomorrow, don’t be an asshole”. He didn’t give a damn what Tony said or how he acted around Peter’s girl. Years of being thrown between gruesome mind-wiping and being half-dead, asleep in a freezer would do that to a man.

So the next day when Peter brought his girlfriend in, he was scratching his ass like a fucking ape and downing a beer with a messy bun at the nape of his neck, until he actually saw her. Neat hair, even neater laces with a sweet smile but a body that could kill. Didn’t matter that she was bundled under Parker’s hoodie and a pair of jeans- he could always admire a pretty dame, but Bucky could see that she was beyond that. It was as if God had intentionally made the one being, the one ethereal creature beautiful and angelic enough to be a sin away from him, so that he couldn’t touch her. Because she was young, and in her twenties, and that shouldn’t have even been the first two things that popped up in his mind because she was also Peter’s girlfriend.

But then she had the audacity to stick her hand out, a shy grin and twinkle in her eyes as she gave her name. It sounded so pretty rolling off of her tongue, and he wondered what it would sound like while he groaned it into her cunt.

Y/N. 

So, yeah, maybe Bucky wasn’t planning to fuck her as soon as he met her, but it was pretty damn close after.

-

Steve Rogers was one of very few men who said they had the pleasure of banging nearly every woman on the north side of Manhattan. Bucky indulged in the fact that the man who had once been too shy to do so much as meet a gal’s gaze was now “a dollar whore”, but he was more than happy to keep that title if it meant he could continue to get off in the nearest woman’s mouth everyday. 

Every time he walked down the streets of New York with just a simple ball cap and jeans, he could feel stares on his back from what seemed like miles away, girls on every street corner just waiting for him to take her into the nearest public bathroom and fuck them dirty. CEOs, baristas, girls fresh out of getting master’s degrees with stars in their eyes and big dreams, until he shattered them by making them gag on his cock and scream his name into bedsheets. Or tile floors. He didn’t care as long as they were screaming. The girls of this century were just too delectable to turn down. He didn’t discriminate. His dick had been in women of every height, stature, hair color, and he had quite the variety throwing themselves at him as well.

And then Tony ruined it all and sat him down with a simple explanation that the image of Captain America was being tainted with disturbing stories of girls being fucked in the ass and thrown on their knees in dirty bathroom stalls. The blond was beyond pissed when the billionaire told him to stop dicking around, but he couldn’t do anything else if he wanted to keep his title and job. In a new century, even if he’d had a few years to adjust, he was still absolutely oblivious when it came to anything outside of aliens and sex. There was nothing left for him outside of being an Avenger, so reluctantly he agreed to keep his number of conquests to a minimum, and most definitely inside of the tower rather than out on the street.

However, inside of the tower seemed to be no problem at all when Peter brought his girlfriend over, all smiles and straight A’s, and that’s when Steve realized that he’d yet to fuck a bright, little college student. He could see himself stripping her from the innocence in her eyes, loosening up her pussy with his thick cock against the wall in his room.

Surely Tony couldn’t reprimand him for spending a little time trying to bond with Peter’s new girl, right?

-

Sam Wilson was a simple man. He had a job, a well-paid one at that, somewhere to live, a girlfriend, or a woman to keep him company, that’s for sure- but for once in his life he was seeking out something other than missions, something that would keep him busy when he was feeling bored, something like-

Pleasure, and he knew that he’d finally found what he was looking for the moment Peter brought his girlfriend through the elevator doors on the fifty-sixth level of the Avengers tower. She’d shaken his hand so daintily and spoke so politely that if he were to see her without any backstory, he’d think she was another innocent, dim-witted college student, breaking her bank account every Saturday morning and naively believing that her relationship would last longer than a few months. But by the things Parker had told him, she was much more than that.

Was it shitty of Peter to tell his teammates, the people he worked with, how Y/N was in bed? By the majority’s vote, probably, and by Sam’s strict conduct of his own morals, definitely, but when Peter’s girl looked like that and he was so incredibly bored with his routine? 

Well, fuck, Sam had never been happier that the Spider-kid had told everyone how his girl gave head.

Peter brought his girlfriend in daily after that, and every one of her visits, she grew less shy and more friendly, and the Falcon saw each of his friends gape at her growing comfortability with a wolfish demeanor. It started with the water incident with Steve in the kitchen, where he so clearly spilled water on her already thin, white camisole with intention. Sam couldn’t say he was upset though, after all Steve had offered him and the rest of the Avengers quite a show when he tried to clean up her shirt, taking his sweet, sweet time to fondle her tits as subtly as he could, his eyes staring at her pebbled nipples poking through the material. He could see Bucky hiding his boner under his cereal bowl on the couch that day. 

Then of course, he’d been no better than America’s sweetheart himself when he greeted Y/N with a hug that in hindsight, was a little too enthusiastic. His large hands squeezed into the pockets of her back pocket, and if the college student found anything weird with it, she didn’t say so, but Sam graciously palmed the round globes of her ass in his hands, feeling the muscle clench under his fingers. Oh, how he’d never hugged someone that tight ever before in his life. Maybe he would’ve gotten a bit further than squeezing her ass had it not been for his own girlfriend standing behind him, ready to introduce herself to Y/N.

Bucky, well, Sam could admit that Bucky had the most guts out of all of them. Though the super-soldier was normally well-reserved and polite, the dark glint in his eyes the day he met Y/N let him in on the secret that he had a much dirtier mind than most thought. It had been movie night that time, and he barely even tried to cover up how much he wanted the girl, his hands resting all over her as they watched Inception. Hardly a movie to get so riled up over, yet Bucky’s hand still inched its way up her thigh, his rough fingers gently carressing the flesh until they started to lightly trace the apex of her thighs. 

If she noticed anything then, she didn’t comment on it, doe-like eyes just marvelling at the screen in great intrigue. It was only when Peter’s arms wrapped around her a bit tighter did she scooch away from Bucky’s touch, with a small apology and shy grin. 

That only made his dick harder.

On the other side of Bucky, his super-soldier counterpart tapped his knee gently, forcing their blue eyes to meet each other. No words had to be said between the two, three men when they looked over to Sam, because they all recognized that look they saw in each other's eyes; predatory, dark, nearly voracious in the way they all wanted to be balls deep inside of Y/N.

And they would get there. No matter how long it took, they knew that the ultimate prize of tearing their prey apart would be more than worth the wait.

-

“Hey, babe, I’m gonna be a little late. Ned and I got stuck back in the lab, so we’re gonna need to stay until eight or nine. Can you make it to the tower by yourself alright?”

Peter’s concerned voice made Y/N smile gently as she trudged along the rainy streets of New York. He always loved to worry about her, especially when it was dark and gloomy out, but she could handle herself pretty okay. By pretty okay, of course meant she could kick ass like no other twenty-something year-old, but she wasn’t one to brag. Y/N readjusted the Kate Spade purse on her shoulder with her right hand, attempting to keep her umbrella over her head with the other. “I’ll be fine, Pete, just go finish up and get back to me. I’m gonna be waiting in your room at the tower before you go off on that mission this weekend.”

A small sigh came through the speaker, “Okay, I’ll try to get back to you soon. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Pete.” 

“Oh,” she could hear the shy but no less mischievous smile that was taking over his face, “I left you a little present on the bed, make sure you open it before I get back.”

Y/N’s face heated at the implication. “Peter Parker, you dirty little-” He ended the call with a laugh, and she huffed out a small chuckle at his childish antics.

The walk to the Avengers tower would have been nice, had it not been for the downfall of rain, making everything mushy, socks being absolutely soaked through her sneakers by the time she arrived. The receptionist at the front desk, Jenny, if Y/N remembered correctly, stared at her a little oddly, probably not expecting to see the young college girl in such a state of disorder, but it didn’t affect her at all. She confidently strutted up to the elevator, pressing in the floor number where all the rooms were located. Y/N scrolled through her Twitter feed on her phone while classic rock blared through the elevator with the constant shuffling of people moving in and out. Seven minutes and thirty-two seconds later she was sprinting down the halls with soggy shoes and damp hair, her cold body screaming for warmth.

Peter’s room was the farthest down the hall, and the room was fairly empty. He rarely stayed at his room in the tower, preferring to stay with his Aunt May or keep Y/N company in Brooklyn. When she entered the room, she saw a plain white shirt and a pair of socks strewn upon the carpeted floor, but what really caught her eye was the red box wrapped in a pink bow on the bed. Deciding it would add more suspense if she opened it later, she quickly hopped in the shower, letting the hot water warm her freezing, rigid muscles under the spray. 

Peter didn’t have all the products she’d usually use before she knew they were going to have sex, so she had to make do with the half-used bar of Irish Spring and his small travel-sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner, promising the fresh, breezy smell of citrus and mint. It was a quick process; two squeezes of shampoo, shaving with the green soap as best as she could without cutting herself, one squeeze of conditioner. A fuzzy towel sat waiting for Y/N on the rack, with the Spiderman symbol as a prank gift from her to her lovely boyfriend, and without a second to let the heat leave her damp skin, she wrapped herself in it, quickly hopping out to the bedroom again.

The lingerie she set out on the bed was a deep set burgundy color, with lace decorating the delicate corset and the trim of the satin panties. The packaging really did not do it justice. Y/N grinned at the new set, one that she knew would happily be torn from her body later. A shiver ran through her as she let the cold air fall over her skin, carefully slipping the lingerie on. It was a damn shame, really; the set was quite nice, and she reminded herself to buy more of the nicely suiting color for their nights together. 

Click.

Y/N’s heart thumped with anticipation as she heard the door open and she took a quick moment to ready herself. Hair in perfect style, legs stretched along the length of the bed to make herself look as seductive as possible, a small smirk thrown on her pouty lips.

But in the darkened room, it wasn’t Peter’s shadow that appeared. Three men, three tall, bulkier men’s shadows appeared at the foot of the bed, and horror washed over her as she realized who they were. “Goddamn, dolly, I’ve imagined what you would’ve looked like under those sweaters, but this is much sweeter than I expected.”

The sinister face of Bucky Barnes came into her view, just a sliver of moonlight lighting up his pale skin. His eyes raked over Y/N’s uncovered skin, and goosebumps appeared as she tried to cover herself up under his predatory gaze.

“W-what are you doing here?” She whispered worriedly. Sam and Steve flanked the bed on either side of her, plastered sickly sweet smiles on their faces, providing her with a false sense of security that made her heart scream in fear. Though she wasn't making any noise, her lungs felt like they were going to give out, her throat closing up like an allergic reaction. 

Her head whipped every which way in robotic movement, her brain seeming to fail her as she scanned the room for an exit. Several moments of shortened breaths, cold air chilling her body, before she came out of her freezing shock to realization.

“Why are you here? Please, get out, just g-get out!”

A calloused hand pushed away Y/N’s left arm that covered her tits, and Steve groaned at the sight of her pebbled nipples. “God, baby, they’re as pretty as I thought they’d be. Been trying to feel them up all week, but you knew that, didn’t you?”

Saturday the week before at lunch when he’d spilled water over chest and tried to clean her up. Sam’s friendly hug that became a bit less friendly when his hands slipped into the back pockets of her jeans. The movie night on Monday when Bucky’s hand caressed her thigh a little too close to her core. All of their touches began to make more sense, and her eyes filled with tears at the realization. 

“Please,” she begged, tears blocking her vision, “I promise I won’t tell anyone, not even Pete, but please just go.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Steve asked. He grasped her chin roughly, his face close enough to hers so that she could feel his fiery breath on her lips. “We’re not leaving, sweetheart. You’re gonna let all three of us play with your pretty little body, and you’re gonna make the prettiest sounds for us, alright?”

Y/N shook her head violently, too afraid to make noise, but also bold enough to make one last attempt at freedom. The hand that held her chin quickly moved to slap her cheek, and she hated the way the sting made heat stir in her lower belly. She tried to shy away from their touch again, but Bucky’s face simply held the same smirk as he trailed his vibranium fingers up and down her leg. 

“Oh, come on, Y/N, don’t act all shy now. Peter has been telling us how good you’ve been to him and don’t think he hasn’t told us about your little childhood crush on little ol’ me. Been wanting to fuck you ever since.” Bucky’s hand quickly left her body, instead moving to palm over the bulge in his pants. “Fuck, sweetheart, got me real hard just thinking ‘bout your pussy swallowing my cock. Bet you’re gonna be a sweet, obedient girl for me, right?”

Fire started to course through Y/N’s veins, and with all the power she tried to dampen it down with, it seemed to push through her body that much more dangerously. She despised the fact that she could feel herself growing wet for the three older men, but God, she had never felt the need to be filled up as badly as she did in that moment.

“You’re a bit of a slut, don’t you think?” Sam mocked. He kneeled on her right, his eyes fixated on her panty-clad pussy, a wet patch already forming on the soft satin. It really didn’t help that three of her teen celebrity crushes were eyeing her nearly naked body like a piece of meat. “I mean, look at you, already growing wet and needy for three cocks. Is that what you want, honey? Parker not treating you good enough?”

She hesitated. Goosebumps rose across her skin at the sinister tone of his voice, like he already knew it was true. And it was true and she hated that Sam was right, but as amazing as Peter was a boyfriend, it was clear from the vibrator hiding in his apartment’s bathroom that he was not amazing in the sheets. Every time, she held hope that it would be better, that she would finally get to stop faking an orgasm before he rolled out of the bed with a filled up condom, but she knew deep down inside of her that it wasn’t happening anytime soon. Y/N forced herself to nod weakly at Sam’s questions, and Bucky chuckled. “Oh, you poor dolly, we’re gonna have so much fun with you. Treat you better than that little boy ever could.”

All it took was a whimper, a nearly audible, deadly silent whimper that managed to squeak its way past Y/N’s throat, and the three men took it as permission to ravage her body however they pleased.

Steve made quick work of his pants as Sam lifted her chin to kiss him, his tongue hot and heavy against her mouth, coaxing her lips open. The sound of belt buckles hitting the floor shamefully turned on Y/N even more. Panic coursed through her senses, her mind wanting to scream for them to stop, but her body knew her too well as she felt a wave of slick run down her thighs. Cold metal digits slipped under the waistband of her panties, moving to her wet folds, and she whimpered into Sam’s mouth at the touch. 

“You look so nice, baby, so pretty all laid out for us like this.” Bucky’s hands pulled down her panties as Steve pinched her peaked nipple through the lace, laying lavish, open-mouthed kisses down her torso. The cool air hit her pussy when Bucky’s hands pulled her legs wide open, fully exposed to the three men ready to use her against her will. “Knew you’d be so wet for us, sweetheart, just look at you. Dripping all for your daddies,” Steve murmured against her skin.

Hot breath fanned over her cunt before they rolled her over on her stomach, someone’s hands forcing her up onto her knees with her face smashed into the cotton pillows. She could feel two rough human hands pulling her ass cheeks apart, spreading her ever wider for their view. “Would you look at that, boys, look how fucking hot she is for us.”

Sam’s thick finger ran through her folds, the calloused pad of his finger just teasing her clit before landing a harsh smack to the inside of her thigh. Her moan was muffled through the mattress and she prayed they wouldn’t hear how being treated like whore made her wet like nothing else. 

Hot slick dripped down her thighs, a pool of it staining the pristine sheets by each knee. It was quite a sight, Steve, kneeled by the bed as his face hovered next to her ear, whispering filthy things into her ear as Bucky stroked his hard, leaking cock right next to him. Sam’s lips were making their way up the inside of her right thigh, cracked skin gliding across her sticky flesh. “Oh, baby,” he purred, “you smell so good. Bet you taste even better, don’t you, little girl?”

His tongue reached the apex of her thighs, finally licking a stipe up her center with no warning. Y/N sobbed into the comforter below her, mascara stained tears marking up her face. Two fingers edged their way between the bed and her face, forcing her head upwards and arching her back. Steve’s face was caught in a dirty smirk above hers, lip pulled taut between his teeth, until he saw the tears trailing down her face. “Oh, sweetheart, you look so desperate like this.” His fingers traced her smeared lip gloss around her lips, before opening her lips harshly. “Open up, you dumb baby.”

Y/N forced her jaw open wider, just enough to watch a string of Steve’s saliva drip into her mouth. The thick spit pooled on her tongue and she tried hard not to grimace in front of him, in hopes that he wouldn’t make her- 

“Swallow it, sweetheart.” He saw the hesitation in her eyes, how her lower lip trembled at his words, but he just laughed at her. “Now.”

The warm saliva slid down her tongue and more black tears ran down her face as she obliged his orders, finally gulping it and cringing at the taste. Steve loved the way her face screwed up in displeasure, how she still had the audacity to pretend she hated what they were doing though she was moaning and whimpering with Sam’s tongue attacking her entrance.

“What do you want, sweetheart? We might give it to you as long as you use your words.” Bucky taunted lightly.

Y/N stared up at the brunette, staring menacingly down at her with his cock in hand. “Please,” she whimpered.

The three found it woeful, the way she could barely get a full sentence out as Sam went to town with his skilled tongue, but even with that onslaught, a simple please wasn’t enough for them.

“Please what, honey,” Sam moaned from between her legs, “you gotta use your big words or we’ll never know what you want from us.”

Steve and Bucky nodded in fake-agreement even though they all knew exactly what she wanted and where. 

“I don’t-” her widened eyes glanced into Steve’s, blown-out and teary. “I don’t want anything, not from you.” She lied through her teeth harshly.

Sam removed his head from between her thighs and Y/N immediately whined at the loss of contact almost hilariously. “You don’t want anything, little girl?” 

The air felt static, every hair on her neck rising in the pressured silence. The angel and the devil clawed at her heart, each trying to show her what was right. And she wanted to sin, God knew that she would love nothing more than to let that little greedy part of her take over, but she’d already cheated on Peter and that damn good part of her conscience stole the wheels of her brain.

Slowly and shamefully, she shook her head, though the downright dirty monster inside of her wanted the men to ignore her words and keep assaulting her body. 

“That’s a shame, baby, I thought we were having fun.” Sam sighed. He met Bucky’s gaze on the side, and though they seemed to be in resignation with her wishes, their eyes twinkled devilishly. He positioned his body over Y/N’s kneeled over form, his bare chest glued to her sweating back as his hands ran up the sides of her ribcage and to her front, just barely grazing over her sensitive nipples. “You mean, you don’t want me to touch you here?”

He pinched the darkened buds and she had to use every ounce of self-restraint to not collapse at the sensation. His calloused hands moved back even further, tracing down to the stretch of skin just above her mound, swiping a finger across the skin delicately. “How about here? Or even,” he brought three fingers around her body, over her ass, and into her glistening cunt again, just rubbing along her entrance, not daring to go further in. Y/N couldn’t hold in her reaction to his prodding anymore, his teasing chipping away all of her dignity and pride in a few simple touches. 

“Yes, please, please, use your fingers,” she blurted against her will. Where shame should have washed over her, there was only lust, raging red and coursing through her body so forcefully that she felt braindead. “Put your fingers in me, daddy, please.”

The pet name rolled off of her tongue so easily and she was barely ashamed of how it made her feel. The name especially shocked the three men, who smiled even wider with their cocks harder than before at the little slip up. “That was all you had to say, dolly, gonna have your daddies make you feel real good,” Bucky laughed.

Sam finally plunged his thick fingers knuckle-deep into her cunt as Steve’s mouth captured hers, effectively swallowing her scream with ferocity. The long digits scissored and swirled inside of her, pressing against new unexplored areas that she’d never even gotten to with her own fingers. White dots danced along the front line of her vision as teeth clashed against hers and though it’d been mere minutes she already knew she was close and the men did as well.

“I can feel you clamping around my fingers, honey,” Sam taunted. His lips were moving sinfully around her ass, planting sloppy kisses and drooling all over her skin while he fingered her deep. “Are you gonna come soon, baby?”

“Yes, daddy, I’m so- fuck,” Y/N panted into Steve’s mouth, “m’ so c-close.” The blond bit her tongue hard enough for her to taste blood and she yelped as she heard Sam and Bucky laugh. 

“Watch your language, dolly,” Bucky sneered from the side of the bed. His hand was rapidly moving around his cock, corkscrew motions edging him towards the brink of pleasure. 

“Little girls like you don’t get to use big swear words,” Sam’s face was still buried between her legs, his soaked fingers pulling out of her cunt only to rub at her little pearl of nerves in circles. His tongue still lapped at her dripping entrance and he could feel her tight hole start to pulse as her breathing picked up. “Oh, baby, you’re getting close, aren’t you?”

Y/N was hesitant to answer at first, the sweat on her body seeming to cool immediately in fear of what would happen if she messed up. But after five seconds Steve stopped kissing her, gripping her chin and staring into her eyes deeply. He looked as debauched as she felt, with his rosy lips swollen with spit and cheeks tinged with pink. “Are you gonna answer daddy, sweetheart?”

That knocked her into shape real fast.

“Yes, daddy, I’m so close. P-please let me come,” she whimpered. The whine in her voice pleased the two men, and Steve went back to exploring her mouth before she felt something poking against her asshole.

“Gonna let daddy put his cock in you, little girl?” Sam asked gently. His words had panic coursing through her system, a chilling realization like water being poured on her head and she began to wiggle around, trying to free Sam’s hand from her hip. Her arms weakly pushed at Steve’s chest, trying to push him as far away as he could, but the men only laughed at her flailing limbs. Y/N wanted to scream no to them, and despite her contrasting love-hate relationship with Sam’s fingers inside her cunt she knew it was time to go. It was laughable how much she would continue to say that to herself for the rest of the night. 

But Sam managed to sense her panic, knowing exactly what the issue was before harshly spanking her and effectively stopping her struggle. “Don’t worry, baby, I won’t come inside of you. I’m not risking knocking up a whore with my kids, I’ve got more dignity than that.”

He led the leaking tip of his dick down her crack, rubbing it along her slick entrance before pushing in with a groan. “Oh my fucking God, that is so hot.” Bucky admonished from the side. “Gotta get in on that soon.”

Steve chuckled against Y/N’s lips, pulling away with a strand of saliva connecting them. He adjusted himself up so his dick was centimeters from her face, a knee propped up on the bed for balance. “Gotta wait your turn, Buck, we all want a piece of her.” He noticed the way Y/N’s eyes were transfixed on his cock, the red mushroom head smeared with precome along the slit, nearly purplish veins standing out prominently on his shaft. Yeah, he couldn’t even deny that he was big because he already knew how many girls had dropped down on their knees for him. “Go ahead, sweetheart, open up those pretty lips for me.”

Almost too excitedly, she dropped her jaw, allowing him to slide his cock into the silky warmth of her mouth. As his hips started to thrust into her mouth, Sam’s started to do the same into her cunt. Both men moaned in tandem with their movements as Y/N’s worries faded away to the back of her mind as they stuffed her to the brim.

“You can come now, baby,” Sam nearly ordered, “go and cream on daddy’s cock- fuck, I know you’ve been waiting.”

It was a harsh bump of his head against her G-spot that sent her over the edge, walls clamping down with ferocity and milking him for all she was worth. Y/N reeled in the sunlight infested warmth that coursed through her body as she finally let go, whining around Steve’s dick as he continued to abuse her throat with long, deep thrusts. 

Bucky was still holding his orgasm off, fondling with his tight, heavy sac while his dick remained a painfully hard mess, glistening with precome. “I’m so glad I got to see you come, dolly, look so fucking pretty when you do.”

She couldn’t deny the little skip of her heart at the praise, just a few simple words that made her feel like a good little girl. But no, God-fucking no, she wasn’t supposed to let them make her feel this way. Guilt washed away that warmth in her chest just as quickly, knowing that her boyfriend was just waiting to come back to see her, finishing up his studies so that they could live their lives out together after college while she was getting her pussy and mouth absolutely wrecked by his co-workers. 

As soon as Y/N got her brain thinking straight again, Sam started moving inside of her again and she garbled out a strangled cry. “If you thought we were done here, baby,” Sam laughed, “you’ve got a lot left ahead of you.”

“We’re not leaving until all of us have come, brat.” Steve’s palm gripped the back of her skull roughly, pushing her head so far down on his dick that her nose was squished against his abdomen. “Greedy little bitch.”

Both men started to thrust into her again, and just like that she was back to being absolutely lost in desire and lust like the bitch in heat she was until there was a sudden shift in the air. So much that the sweat on her body began to cool her skin, Sam’s hands still gripping her hips so tightly she knew they’d leave marks that she would have to hide when she wore her favorite low-cut shorts. 

Bucky’s eyes seemed to drift from her tits moving with each movement of her hips, checking behind the door as if there were something lurking there, but she was too afraid to see for herself. If she stopped she would get spanked, and they’d probably prolong her second orgasm even further, and her pussy couldn’t handle any more subtle teasing.  

“Hey there, Parker, why don’t come on out here?”

But that, that was what made the hairs on Y/N’s neck rose, dread filling her to the fullest as she realized the implications of Sam’s words.

Peter had seen everything. Peter, her boyfriend, had seen three of his co-workers, three men who she barely knew, fuck her deep into his mattress. Peter, her boyfriend, had watched her get fucked into his mattress, without trying to stop them whatsoever.

She couldn’t tell if it was the guilt of cheating on her boyfriend or the freezing realization that he hadn’t done anything to stop the three men that hurt more. 

Yet Peter still walked from behind the door, dressed in a NYU hoodie and a pair of khakis slung low on his hips, just drawing attention to the sizable bulge that stretched out his zipper. His umber eyes, normally full of so much joy and love, were possessed by the same lust and darkness as the three men, as much as he tried to hide it behind a shyer facade. 

His eyes were trained on the tightness of how Y/N’s pussy was gripping Sam, her lips glossed over with come and spit wrapped around Steve’s dick. The girl stopped in her movements, her eyes no longer full of tears for just being gagged, but as soon as her mouth came to a halt around the base of his cock, the blond slapped her across the face. A sharp crack echoed around the room and though she couldn’t see him, she heard Bucky’s feral growl of pleasure at the whorish treatment she was receiving. 

“Didn’t say you could fucking stop, sweetheart, keep working on daddy’s cock.” No more words needed to be said as Steve gripped her hair once more, forcing himself farther back into her throat to the point where she couldn’t breathe. Sam’s thrusts were quickening, closer and closer to release as the sounds of the girl struggling to breath made his balls tighten. 

“Fucking shit, baby, you feel yourself squeezing my dick? I bet you like teasing daddy like that, don’t you?” One of his hands were brought down on her ass in a quick smack that resonated with Bucky, who was staving off his orgasm for something much sweeter than his hand. She was moaning raucously around the dick stuffed in her mouth, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up every nerve in Steve’s body as he came with the tip of his dick nearly being swallowed by Y/N’s throat. There was barely any time for her to fully down the thick come in her mouth before Sam was threatening to orgasm. “I’m gonna come so soon but you better fucking not, little girl, you hear me? Gotta let your daddy come before you, you ungrateful little bitch- oh.”

It was a really fucking close call, Sam’s dick pulling out of her with one quick movement before spilling pearly ropes of come onto Y/N’s spine. A high whine escaped her mouth, clit throbbing as she was so, so close to coming, and she was too far into her crazed pleasure to realize that she was letting three older men, men who fought to defend the universe from evil, use her as an over-glorified fleshlight. 

She couldn’t really blame them for calling her a cockdrunk whore. 

Bucky sauntered over to the bed, eyes trained on the pool of come centered around the base of her spine before flipping her over onto her back with his large hands and shoving three vibranium fingers back into her hole. She gasped and held onto his forearm as he continued to fingerfuck her to her second orgasm, eyes screwed shut in a delirious haze of contentment for being filled with at least something again. 

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, please-” Steve slapped her along the face, correcting her words immediately. “Daddy, daddy, please let me come.”

Bucky chuckled, tweaking one of her nipples with his flesh hand as he hovered over her face. “I don’t know, dolly, you’ve been a little naughty, callin’ me the wrong name, not listening to Stevie’s orders- don’t think you deserve to get what you want.”

A muffled whimper escaped her swollen lips, and he sighed in surrender. “Okay, dollface, go ahead and come on my fingers. Let me see how you wet ‘em up real good.”

Y/N’s hips bucked into his metal digits with finality, come leaking out of her cunt and soaking the sheets below her. Her sweat-glazed skin shone even against the darkening sky, and all Bucky could do was chuckle at how her chest rose quickly as she tried to catch her breath. He thought about teasing her clit again, just circling around the little bud of nerves to get a rise out of her, but he decided against it. Sam probably had better plans for her anyway. 

On the other hand, Y/N’s orgasm was starting to wear off as she noticed the hardened stare from the edge of the room. Her boyfriend.

“Peter, I…” Y/N made eye contact with him, suddenly noticing how mousy he looked in his own bedroom. 

“I nearly forgot you were here, Parker,” Sam smirked darkly. “Why don’t you come over here and fuck your little whore. I’m feeling a little generous today.”

Steve and Bucky nodded with the same infuriating smugness as Sam. The brunette boy opened his mouth to object to the degrading statement, but when he met his girlfriend’s eyes nothing needed to be said. There was no escaping this. Nothing he said mattered to the three older men, because really they had already gotten everything they wanted right in front of their disgusting, perverted eyes. 

He unbuckled his belt, letting the weight of it drop his khakis to the floor. Maybe if he’d known he would be forced into join a fivesome later that night he’d have picked any other boxers but the Ducktales one, but no one seemed to say a word about them, rather focusing on what they were failing to conceal. 

Peter’s cock had always been admirable to Y/N by its length and God, definitely its thickness. Curved upwards towards his abdomen with a vein running along the left side up to the bulbous head, it was definitely more than average. It was really just a shame he didn’t know how to use it well enough.

His shirt was pulled over his head just as quickly, and if Y/N knew any better she would say that he was excited to get to fuck her in front of the three men. He placed himself in between Y/N’s parted legs, standing in the same position as he had so many times before.

But when Y/N cried out in pain and pleasure as he slid into her, Peter knew that this time, it was different. This time three men, men that he used to trust with his life, stood on either side of him and his girlfriend and jerked their hands up and down their cocks as they watched her get fucked relentlessly. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t romantic, but he couldn’t really think when his thick cock was stuffed inside of her stimulated pussy, juices and come leaking out of her abused sex. 

“Go faster, Parker,” Steve instructed, his face contorted in pure pleasure. The pace of Peter’s thrusts sped up, and he threw Y/N’s ankles over his shoulders, hitting deeper inside of her, with the sound of her sobs only turning them all on more. “Oh, right there, shit, shit, shit-”

Steve came first, a low groan escaping his lips as streams of come landed on her tits, still bouncing with every movement of Peter’s hips. 

“Open up,” Sam gritted through his teeth, and Y/N obediently opened her mouth to let his bitter come coat the inside of her throat, some of it landing on her face and neck. The string of curses he let out made Peter thrust even faster into her, and he hated, absolutely despised the way it turned him on to see the three men use his girlfriend to their pleasure. But soon enough a hand pushed against his chest away from Y/N and he reluctantly pulled out.

“Move aside, kid,” Bucky instructed, “Wanna come inside of her.”

As he lined his gigantic cock up with her entrance, her eyes widened with fear. “No, please, I didn’t take my pills, I can’t- I won’t, please not inside-”

“Shut the fuck up, you slut.” Bucky’s fingers came to slap her clit harshly, and she cried out in pain. “You’re gonna be quiet and let me come wherever I damn want, right?”

He punctuated his last word as he thrust inside her, filling her up to the hilt with his girth. She was too drunk on the feeling of her cunt being filled up to argue again. It was painful, extremely so, even though two different cocks had been inside her overstimulated pussy already and Bucky stretched her out wide, his cock thicker with veins to hit every pleasure point. With her legs tossed around his tapered torso, he slid out until his very tip was left in her, then slammed back in with a small moan. The head of his cock relentlessly pounded into her cervix in a nearly soundless tempo and all Y/N could hear were her own gasps of pleasure, jaw-dropping moans that made drool slide back down her throat in her laid down position.

She turned her head to the side, and though her vision was bleary through the tears, she could see Sam and Steve watching Bucky fuck her while Peter, her boyfriend, her sweet, sweet boyfriend, was caught up fucking his hand to the sound of Bucky’s balls slapping against her ass. 

“Fuck, ‘m not gonna last much longer, dollface.” Bucky gasped. “You gonna come soon? You’re gonna come for daddy one more time. I think you’ve got a third one in you, you little fucking slut.”

“Shit, shit, daddy, please ‘m almost there,” Y/N wailed absentmindedly. A thumb came down to circle her clit quickly and she felt the coil in her stomach grow tighter and tighter, until she finally let out a high whine, finding her release as Bucky’s cock pulsed inside of her, ready to come just as easily as her. Her pussy clenched around his cock as she rode out her orgasm, fingers grasping at the sheets in order to find some sort of grounding. His come painted her walls white, and Bucky could’ve sworn there was no better feeling than feeling his blood warm in every vein as he finally let go. With stunted groans, his hips slowed its rhythm, lost in watching how his cock disappear into Y/N’s pussy, her slick juices coating his dick each time he pulled out. 

“Ah, fuck, dolly, you did so good for me. Pussy tight as a fuckin’ vice.” Bucky hugged her limp body close to his sweaty chest, letting his dick soften inside of her for a good few moments before pulling out. He tossed Y/N back onto the bed below him, barely even caring to clean the come dripping down her ribcage and out of her cunt before grabbing his boxers from the cabinet next to the bed. 

Steve was already buttoning his jeans up, checking the notifications on his phone before shoving it back into his pocket. The blond seemed to have better things to do so soon after, rushing his way to the door before pausing where Y/N laid to watch come drip out of her pussy. One more time he pushed Bucky’s come inside of her abused entrance, watching as it oozed out from behind his digits. “Look at you, fucking full of of his come. Such a goddamn whore,” he muttered under his breath.

Those were the last words he said to her before patting Bucky on the shoulder and leading him out of the opened door. 

Maybe Sam was a bit more kind, or affectionate at least. He was already dressed but visibly hard again beneath the thick denim of his pants, and he made sure Y/N knew it, taking her left hand and placing it over his dick. “You still got that effect on me, honey, even when you’re all fucked out like this.” He dragged his fingers through the thick ribbons of come that coated her chest, bringing them up to her mouth so she could taste. Even though she was more than exhausted, she wrapped her tongue around the two fingers that were pushed past her swollen lips, sucking them clean with a tired vengeance. Satisfied with her work, he kissed her chin one more time before leaving without so much as another word, slamming the door shut on his way out.

Click.

It ended exactly the way it started, the lock jostling into the doorknob just as easily as the high of Y/N’s final orgasm slipped away.

Stifling silence suffocated the room around them. Peter refused to meet her eyes, just as much as hers did his. She laid motionless on the bed with him standing at the foot, his dick soft and if she narrowed her bleary eyes just a bit, she could see how his knees were shaking. Neither of them were able to say anything, losing the ability to converse as soon as the three men left the room.

“Peter,” her voice was throaty after the rough fucking she took, “C-can you please get me a drink?”

The brown-haired boy looked down to meet her face, and she could finally see the reason that he had hid it from her. His eyes were red and bloodshot, snot running from his nose with tears running down his cheeks. She’d been so caught up in the after haze of the sex that she didn’t even notice how his bare chest was heaving so deeply, nearing hyperventalation. 

But still, he grabbed his boxers, pulling them over his weakened legs clumsily. “Y-yeah, what kind do you want, Mr. Stark has a ton-”

“I don’t care.” She cut him off firmly, a sharp tone in her voice as she rolled over on her side. Y/N tucked her knees to her chin, fingers running over the side of her neck which was marked with bruises and scratches. “I don’t fucking care.”

Without another word Peter slipped out of the room quietly, knowing better than to try to talk to her about what they had been forced to participate in. It wasn’t as if there was much to say anyways.

Rain pattered against the window. It was only six o’clock in the evening. Cars honked and beeped and Natasha’s Igor Stavinsky record played for its fiftieth round of the day, and to anyone else in the tower it was a normal night. Normal, just like the ones spent sitting on the couch with Bucky’s hand creeping up her leg or Sam’s hands groping her ass, but this time they’d made a move. 

The silence was far too much to handle, the unspoken truth of what she’d done with Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Peter finally hitting her, knocking the air out of her lungs as she suddenly struggled to breathe. Gripping her face, clawing at it like a goddamn wolf, Y/N began to cry. Silently at first, gradually growing into heartbroken sobs, she let her trodden pride carry her voice wherever it wanted to go. 

The men’s whispered words haunted her mere moments after they’d left the room, but most audibly she could hear a faint husk of a voice, Sam’s low moan in her ear looming in the dreadful silence of the room:

Thanks for sharing with us, baby.

[sunlightandsuffering]

Did I ever write size queen Mikasa rejecting Eren lmfao bc if so, here it is lol!

He can't believe it, he can't fucking believe it.

He's standing in the club bathroom, pants down, the girl of his dreams, on her fucking knees in front of him and he's being rejected based on his dick. He's never had someone reject him for it.

Eren has been blessed, absolutely fucking blessed in the dick department, girls like to admire him, and usually when they see his dick they get down on their knees immediately, curious to test his sensitivity. It's like a challenge, to see if they can get him off, choke down as much of his length as possible. In his experience, girls very explicitly like his dick. He knows in this day and age, the size doesn't really matter anymore, that girls are happy with whatever, but usually they're very happy with what he has to offer.

Because he has a nice dick, well rounded heavy balls, an impressive length, veins running along the underside, the pink tip of him, and he keeps himself well shaven down there too, doesn't want anyone having to deal with wayward hairs. The girth too is nothing to sneeze at, most girls can't even wrap their hand around him, and he's both a grower and a shower.

In short, he has a nice dick, and girls notice, and Eren in turn notices how fucking pretty they look choking on his dick and that's exactly why he'd pulled Mikasa into the club bathroom after dancing with her for a while. She's fucking stunning, everything he's ever wanted and more, probably his dreamgirl if he's being honest, heavy tits, pretty face, an ass he can hold as he fucks into her deep. He'd actually been having little daydreams on the dancefloor of giving his manwhore ways up for her. He'd known he had to have her almost immediately, and not just tonight, maybe even forever, she's tiny, a petite little thing, sleight in his arms but curvy in all the places that mattered, the perfect height for him to kiss her. She was like his every wish personified.

And fuck he knows how good he could give it to her, knows he would kiss her cervix, that she'd look so fucking pretty choking on him, stretched out on his cock, ass up, those sweet grey eyes looking back at him with adoration. It's everything he's ever wanted and more. And yet now, as she's sitting on her knees in front of him, she doesn't look so sure, a strange look crossing her face, before she looks up at him wearily, "Sorry, I don't think I'm into it anymore." "What?" Eren chokes out, because what has changed between now and a few minutes ago when she was grinding into him against the wall while they waited for a bathroom to clear out.

"I'm sorry," Mikasa frowns and Eren is already tucking himself away, almost embarrassed at how fast his hard on is deflating, what the fuck? "I just, it's too big, I know it would hurt, I don't like guys that are so big." Eren feels like someone has slapped him, grasping for straws as he struggles to compute this information, he's never had someone refuse him based on the size of his dick. She gives him a tight smile as she stands up, still a little wobbly from her many drinks of the night, Eren is too. "It's nothing personal," she pats his arm, "I just don't like guys with big dicks." Eren struggles, grasping at straws because he can't let his dream girl get away like this, not because his dick is too big, she hasn't even tried, how would she know?? "Well have you ever had one?" Mikasa shrugs, "No, but I know it would hurt, I don't like painful sex." Eren struggles to maintain his composure, deep breaths, he's desperate, "But it would feel so good after the pain I promise, have you ever felt so empty? I'll fix it Miki, it'll feel so good, we'll be completely connected, and you'll feel it all the way up here," he taps her tummy lightly, just the lower part where he knows her cervix is. She gives him an unimpressed look and another pat to the shoulder, "That's okay champ, try some other girl, it's just not for me." And then she leaves, and Eren is left shaken because he is NOT going to lose his dream girl based solely on her misconception that it's going to hurt to much to be pleasurable. No, he's gonna make her want it, and by the time he's done with her Mikasa's gonna be a fucking size queen.

[harrys-titties]

Y/N and Harry hate each other, until they don’t. 

29K+

Warnings: Asshole Harry, A LOT of swearing (I’m sorry,) mentions of anxiety, a questionable game of drink or truth & smut 

(A/N FINALLY I FINISHED!!  Blood, sweat and tears has been put into this one, so I hope you all enjoy! Love you all <3 Also you may have to open in your web browser bc she is big af xx) 

-masterlist-

It wasn't that Y/N didn't like Harry, in all honesty, she didn't know him well enough to come to that conclusion. But from what she'd seen so far, she wasn't too impressed. She had never found it too challenging to make new friends, often finding herself able to get along with even the oddest of characters, but with Harry, it was a different story.

Perhaps if they weren’t forced to stay in the same house during quarantine, having to spend days on end with only each other and their housemates to cure their boredom, things would be different. Maybe, just maybe Harry wouldn’t have come across as so disagreeable and overbearing. 

However, at this rate, Y/N was led to believe it was just who he was. An asshole who had somehow tricked the entire planet into believing he was the epitome of the ‘boy next door’ stereotype. 

Sarah, Y/N’s cousin, had called her sometime around July, asking her if she wanted to quarantine with her, her boyfriend, Mitch and a few mates rather than alone in her somewhat dingy apartment. Y/N had immediately jumped at the opportunity. Quarantining by herself had already proved to be somewhat tricky and incredibly depressing. While she loved her charming little abode, she was certainly not prepared to spend the next few months stuck inside it, alone, watching ‘Friends’ reruns with a bottle of wine and only her three potted cacti to keep her company. 

So, naturally, that led her to the doorstep of Sarah and Mitch's huge shared house with butterflies in her stomach, imagining what her new housemates would be like. 

Sarah had told Y/N all about Mitch, Jeff and Harry, exclaiming how funny, kind and welcoming they would be, and well, Y/N was excited, she needed some new friends. After her last break up about a year ago, had lost her a boyfriend and subsequently the mutual friends of his that she thought had become hers too, she felt slightly lonely. For Y/N the chance to cure isolation boredom blues and make some new friends was an offer she wouldn't dream of refusing. 

Upon arrival, Y/N noticed that Sarah's description fit Jeff and Mitch to a tee, but Harry? Well, he barely managed to squeeze into it. When she'd walked through the door, Mitch had immediately offered to take her bags and even offered her some of his favourite tea to help her relax after her relatively stressful journey. Jeff gave her a huge hug and asked what her favourite snacks were so he could add them to the shopping list. And Harry? He sat in silence with his head practically glued to his phone, hardly even sparing a glance in her direction. 

Y/N didn't let this discourage her. She prided herself on being friendly and often easy to get along with and so approached him readily. However, greeting him with a cheerful, "it's nice to meet you!" and her renowned smile had only earned her a grunt and a disinterested look. Maybe he was just having a bad day?

On the drive to Sarah’s house, Y/N had been thinking about how exciting it was to be able to meet him. While she’d never been an avid fan of his music, she wasn’t blind to the enormous impact he had on the industry. He seemed kind and beyond charming, and well, Y/N had a working pair of eyes, she knew how handsome he was. She had only ever heard good things and was excited to get to know the man who had made her cousin's dreams come true. 

However, Harry's blase and borderline rude personality really rubbed her the wrong way. Y/N could understand having a rough day, even she could get a bit grumpy the days leading up to her period, but Harry's impertinence surpassed a simple 'bad day' or two. He was impossible! He would hardly even acknowledge her existence, and on the rare occasion when he did, he was insolent and passive-aggressive. He would nitpick everything Y/N did, from the way she would dress to something as simple as how much soy sauce she had on her sushi! Y/N didn't know how she would survive another week with him, let alone the whole of isolation. 

Maybe loneliness, copious amounts of alcohol and friends reruns would’ve been the better option. 

——

It wasn't that Harry didn't like Y/N, in all honesty, he didn't know her well enough to come to that conclusion. There was just something about her that grated on his nerves. It could possibly be the fact that Sarah had insisted she was his type before he'd even met her. While Harry had countered, unless she looked exactly like the ex he was still very much pining over he doubted it to be true, Sarah had insisted. She showed him picture after picture from their trip to Europe together, pointing out how pretty Y/N's hair looked, or how dazzling her smile was.

While there was a resemblance to the girl on his mind, Harry doubted it was enough to remind him of the heartbreak she had instilled upon him. Alas, Harry was wrong. When Y/N had floated through the door without a care in the world, Harry had frozen. While Y/N did kind of resemble his past girlfriend Elle, it was the way she acted that frustrated Harry more. She had the same air about her, carried herself in the same way that Elle did, with humble confidence and poise.  

Harry hated it. The more he got to know Y/N, the more he realised that she was somehow simultaneously similar and completely different from the girl he was still in love with, and he hated it. She was a constant reminder of what he could no longer have, and he didn't know if he wished Y/N were more like Elle so he could have a part of her back, or if he wished she was a completely different person altogether.

Either way, Harry could hardly hold in the frustration he felt around her, snapping at anything she said and nit-picking her every move. 

While he knew he was acting unreasonably, he barely had a cause to stop it. 

——

Y/N was usually self-confident and relatively sure of herself, but she was also stubborn, and for some reason was bothered by Harry's opinion of her more than she cared to admit. 

So, over the first few days of her staying at the house, Y/N had tried her hardest to get Harry to like her, but her endeavours only seemed to further annoy him. She baked him carrot cake because she'd heard it was his favourite, but with a screwed up nose, Harry had swiped his finger through the icing to taste it and grumbled, "way too sweet," before retreating back to his room. Y/N was embarrassed as Sarah had given her a sympathetic look and insisted "everyone else will love it!" 

When doing her washing, she added Harry's whites with hers and even went so far as to dry and fold them too. But when she woke the next day, the clothes had been taken from the laundry, and Y/N was not given a spare glance.

 Harry had insisted they watch a horror movie during their weekly movie night, and Y/N didn't say a word of opposition, even though she knew she would have nightmares that night. Sarah had even tried to say something on her behalf, but Y/N quickly hushed her, not wanting to cause a scene and have Harry hate her even more than he already did. 

But Y/N's quick agreeance to watch 'Halloween' disagreed with her a lot more than she thought it would. She had hardly slept at all, jumping at the smallest of sounds and debating the probability of a murderous man being able to break into the house. When she turns again for what seemed like the fiftieth time that night, only to be met with the glaring '3:30' from the mickey mouse alarm clock she had nearly forgotten to pack, she gives up. 

In an attempt to calm herself down from the numerous haunting images flashing through her mind, Y/N begins her trek to the kitchen. A cool glass of water and perhaps one of the cupcakes Sarah and herself had baked the day before, would surely put her overworked mind at ease. 

As Y/N begins to walk down the stairs, she can't help but imagine behind every door a murderer with a knife, that each step in the pitch black was one closer to her death. The eerie silence of the house full of sleeping people only made her feel worse. 

Scolding herself for ever agreeing to watch the stupid movie in the first place, she turns around to flick on the lights to the hallway and stairway. Feeling slightly more comfortable now that she could see, she walked downstairs only to repeat the process in the kitchen, dining room and living room until the whole house, bar upstairs, was flooded with light.

Standing in the fully lit kitchen with a mug of hot chocolate she had found in the cupboard and munching away at the sweet treat, Y/N finally begins to feel somewhat safe. That is until a dark figure suddenly emerges from the hallway.

 "Harry! What the fuck? You scared the shit out of me," she exclaims while clutching at her rapidly beating chest. With his chestnut curls in a tangled heap upon his head, one sock on and clad in only a white shirt and boxers, he looks slightly worse for wear. "What the fuck are you doing, making such a racket at four in the fucking morning?" His voice sounds strained as if he'd just woken up and his face is screwed in annoyance as he points at the provincial-style clock hanging on the wall for emphasis. 

Y/N hesitates, she knew telling Harry his movie choice had kept her awake would not end well, "I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you or anything." At this, he scoffs, "didn't mean to wake me, huh? Turning on every fuckin’ light and slammin’ cupboards will usually do that to a person." 

Now Harry knows he's being mean, can hear the way his accent thickens with annoyance and can see how she flinches with every raised decibel, and it makes him pause some. He realises there’s more than likely a reasonable explanation as to why she’s awake at such an hour. He's a dick, but he's not a bloody monster, and as he sees her eyes well up with tears, he decides his anger can be put on the backburner.

 "Why are you even awake?" At the softened tone in his voice, Y/N seems to visibly relax some but still remains tense. "I, um, I really hate horror movies, and I was scared, and I couldn't sleep." He sighs, and his voice lowers even more, "Is that why all the lights are on?" She nod's sheepishly, "why didn't you say anythin'? You were the first to bloody agree to watch the movie." 

"You already hate me enough, I didn't want to give you another reason!" Harry's not sure why his chest slightly aches at that, because if he's honest, she's right, he doesn't really like her at all. As soon as she’d walked through the door and up the stairs to get sorted in her new room, he'd approached Mitch. He'd even made a proper scene, asking why she had to quarantine with them. Mitch had defended her, pointing out that everyone else liked her perfectly fine so far, which Harry supposes was a part of his problem with her. He had made sure she knew of his distaste too, barely even paying her mind, and only doing so to mock her. 

So why it felt like his heart was cracking just slightly, he'll never know, but it does lead him to walk towards her slowly, "I can't really sleep either, did you want to watch tv with me until you can?" If Harry was truthful, he'd actually been sleeping like a baby before he heard the cupboard doors shut slightly above acceptable volume considering the time. However, the way her mouth pouted somewhat, and her eyes misted as she acknowledged his dislike for her made him feel awful. 

So as he sits on the couch with her, now donned with his own steaming cup of hot chocolate, he leaves the lights on and gives her his favourite blanket to wrap herself in. He sits on the opposite side of the couch and tries his hardest not to fall asleep, so Y/N could feel somewhat protected.

After a few episodes of 'SpongeBob' had played he looks over to the other side of the sofa and sees Y/N fast asleep, snoring with her head tilted at a slightly unnatural angle. He can't help the smile that finds its way onto his face, as he turns off the television and settles himself further into the couch to hopefully catch a few hours of sleep too. 

——

To say Y/N is confused would be an understatement. While she wasn't expecting to wake up to Harry presenting a friendship bracelet and a new found love for her, she was expecting him to at least stop hating her.

She was surprised at his kindness last night. She knows Harry gave her his favourite blanket. Jeff was always griping on movie nights because Harry manages to nab it before Jeff has the chance and although he claimed he couldn't sleep, Harry's croaky voice and dishevelled hair led her to believe he was in fact lying.

She definitely hadn't expected him to offer to watch cartoons with her. She also definitely had not expected to wake in the middle of the night to find herself pressed against him with his arms tightly wrapped around her.

 Y/N briefly considered moving back to her side of the couch, but if she was being entirely truthful, she missed cuddling. It was one of her favourite things about being in a relationship, and ever since her last one had crashed and burned, she missed the simple feeling of being held. So in her sleep-muddled state, she decided to stay put and hope Harry was as avid a cuddler as she was.  

To be honest, after all that, she thought he'd at least start to acknowledge her existence, or at least not act as if it was the bane of his. However, when Y/N awakes the next day, Harry is in the kitchen with Jeff and Sarah, debating on where to start their tour when quarantine ends. He moves animatedly and is clearly laughing and joking about as he usually does with the other occupants of the house. But when she enters, he instantly stops talking and instead puts his head down, seemingly very focused on shovelling his pancakes into his mouth. 

Y/N hopes, with every part of her being, that he didn't wake up feeling disgusted by her unconscious affection, but she knew it was a real possibility. And suddenly it feels like she had taken one step forward and two giant steps back.

So yes, Y/N is understandably confused. 

——

When Harry had woken up overheated, and with a stifling sense of claustrophobia, he was understandably confused. As he opens his eyes, he recognises the living room's shaggy carpet and cream walls; however, it takes him a few seconds to process why he was actually here rather than in his own bedroom.

The pressure against his chest causes him to startle some, and when he looks down to see Y/N still huddled under his favourite blanket but now pressed against him rather than the opposite end of the couch, the feeling doesn't fade but instead escalates.

How did they end up in this position? Harry knew he was a cuddler, any past lover would be able to tell you that, but that was usually with people he... liked? Why the fuck was she on top of him?

He can just see the side of her face, while the other looks to be uncomfortably pressed against him. Her hair no longer resembles the bun she usually goes to sleep with but a nest upon her head, and what looks like dried drool is smeared across the corner of her rosy lips. 

Harry can admit she's cute. In a puppy that's just been kicked kind of way. He feels compelled to brush the strands of hair away from her face and wipe the spit away with the hem of his shirt, but Y/N moving in her sleep draws his focus away. He sees his lanky legs tangled with hers and for the first time notices his arms also wrapped around her, keeping her close. 

While a half-asleep Y/N is clearly trying to change her position, his gangly limbs keep her from doing so. And Harry panics. He should not be cuddling with Y/N of all people. Instantly and as gently as possible, he rolls her off him and stands from the couch, only to hear a muffled groan of opposition from the sleeping girl. 

Harry was confused, to say the least. He knows it's not a big deal. Two, friends? No. Acquaintances? Hm nope, 'roommates?'... had fallen asleep next to each other on the couch and woken up slightly tangled. It wouldn't be that much of an issue if the last person Harry had woken up next to hadn't been the ex-girlfriend he was very much still broken-hearted because of. Don't get him wrong, it had felt nice to be close to someone again, but perhaps that's the reason why Harry begins to panic even more. 

So, Harry folds up the blanket he had been using, walks to the toilet and convinces himself not to think of it again. And it's also for this reason, that Harry can't seem to look Y/N in the eye as she walks into the kitchen. He knows she's looking at him in confusion, and he feels slightly guilty, but what was he supposed to do? Greet her with a cuddle and ask if she'd slept as well as he did? No, Harry would act like nothing had happened, and pray that a problem wouldn't arise from that.

But of course, Harry should have known better. 

——

Y/N was quite the baker. She had worked a few summers in her Aunties little bakery and had loved it, but even with her passion and keen eye for icing cakes, there was only so much sweet treat making she could do. She was more participating in copious amounts of isolation baking to please poor Sarah, who was struggling with boredom, and who also happened to love sweets. 

So, whenever Sarah would run into her room with a new suggestion, or send her a link to a 'totally awesome' muffin recipe, Y/N would simply bite her tongue and help gather the ingredients. They had already managed to make cupcakes, banana bread, chocolate chip cookies and cheesecake. So when a new recipe comes through while Y/N reads her book in front of the pool, she wonders what other baked goods could even possibly exist for them to make. 

Alas, macarons. Y/N sighed and walked to the kitchen, where she knew Sarah would be preparing their ingredients. "Hey bug, ready to bake the best macarons ever?" On the inside, Y/N started dramatically weeping, but on the outside, she exclaims, "sure am! These might be a bit more difficult than anything we've tried though." Sarah scoffs, "oh please, we're up for the challenge." 

It's then Y/N notices Harry sitting at the island bench, and he catches her staring, "what? 'M bored." She only nods in response, not really one for conflict. "Are you helping us cook? We could use an extra hand." Y/N kind of hopes he'd say yes, maybe a bit of cooperative, team bonding would mend whatever weird rift they had between them. 

However, Harry screws up his nose at her suggestion as if what she had said was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. Before he has the chance to snarkily reply to her, Sarah butts in, "Harry actually used to be a baker! Didn't you H." Harry can see Y/N's eyes light up and knows that whatever comes out of her mouth next, he was more than likely going to despise. "I used to work in a bakery too!"

Now, if there was an award for sarcasm, Y/N's sure Harry would probably win it. When he pulls his lips into an over-exaggerated smile and says, "twinnies!" with such derision that it burns, Y/N's smile falls. She didn't know what his problem was. Had it really bothered him that much that they'd accidentally cuddled in their sleep? Who had hurt the poor guy so much that a simple night-time spoon was the be-all or end-all? 

She really hadn't meant it, guessed she'd missed sleeping next to a warm body and naturally gravitated towards him. She liked a good cuddle, for fuck's sake, who didn't? If she could turn back time, she would've stayed in bed, wracked with fear if it meant she wouldn't have to deal with Harry's bullshit.

Rather than responding, Y/N puts her head down and begins to read the instructions Sarah had helpfully printed out. Harry is about to make a snide comment, praying that her baking abilities have improved since the carrot cake she had attempted to make, but he gets distracted by the way the afternoon sun is hitting her skin. 

Was Y/N kind of attractive? For the first time, he notices that while she had similar features to his ex, Y/N was pretty on her own accord. 

While often messy, her hair looked so soft, and her eyes were wide and held a sense of innocence. If Harry looked close enough, he could see the tiny acne spots she hadn't bothered to cover and the small bags under her eyes. He briefly wonders if she'd been getting enough sleep and if he had any of the 'sleepy-time' tea left that had worked so well for him before he realises what he was thinking. 

This was Y/N, not Elle, not some chick he'd been fucking, it was Y/N. Maybe he was just confused about his feelings. That was the first time he'd slept next to someone in a while. And well, Y/N was an admittedly pretty girl, and Harry was an admittedly lonely guy who was attracted to pretty girls…

Yeh, there was nothing for him to worry about. 

Y/N mistakes Harry's staring as a glare and does her best to avoid looking at him. She didn't want him to see the well of tears in her eyes and give him the satisfaction. By now, she knew he had meant to upset her, and he had succeeded. 

It was a shame, he really was an attractive guy. Y/N is fully aware that if she'd seen him at a bar, acting the way he did with Sarah and the guys, she'd be instantly in love. She imagines him at school years ago, he probably would’ve been the guy that everyone developed a crush on at least once, boys and girls alike, and has no doubt he probably knew it too. 

Unfortunately, Y/N had not met him in a way akin to a romantic novel. No, she only knew him as an ass who tended to treat her like the dirt stuck to the treads of his overpriced shoes. The only thing Y/N could do was just try her best to ignore him. 

——

As it turns out, Y/N was right, macarons were a lot harder than anything Sarah, and she had previously tried to make. Y/N was tired, frustrated and too sweaty for simply baking glorified cookies. The macarons had taken so long to make, and worst of all, the first batch had come out of the oven flat and stiff as a board. Sarah had pulled out the tray as Y/N was beginning to wash the bowls with a hesitant, "are they supposed to be flat?" 

Turns out they were not supposed to be flat at all. Y/N tried to hide her distaste as she chewed through one of the shells, but when she saw Sarah's face mirroring hers, she giggled. Harry, who had been sitting at the bench, completing a crossword puzzle, also laughed, "guess you aren't as good at baking as you thought you were." 

Y/N would be offended, but notices he's mainly talking to Sarah, and his jesting tone suggests he's not even acknowledging her. "Here, try one. They aren't that bad," Sarah hands him one and he huffs before taking a bite, "better not poison me. You'll have millions of fans to answer to." 

As he chews, it’s apparent that he's not particularly enjoying it. After a hefty swallow, he tugs at his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger as if in deep thought. "These are single-handedly the worst macarons I've ever had in my entire life. And I say that with absolute confidence." 

While Sarah scoffs and laughs, admonishing Harry with a gentle slap on his arm, Y/N is entirely distracted. She had never seen anyone else with the same habit as her ex. Ben would tug at his bottom lip when deep in thought, and there Harry was, exhibiting the exact same habit. She was astonished, and she hates to admit it, but small butterflies form in the pit of her stomach. She always had, for some unknown reason found it an oddly attractive trait.

While others might be attracted to muscles or deep dimples, Y/N found the little quirks of others most captivating. She loved the drunken ramblings and the uncontrollable tears during sad films. She loved watching people discover their favourite song and the way they would sing under their breath. She loved the unmade beds, dust-covered books, and overwatered plants. She loved the way people would stutter on certain words or adopt weird nicknames they had heard in their favourite movies. She loved pet peeves and the stories behind them and the routines that they followed. Y/N had always loved people. She loved the things that made individuals uniquely them, and this quirk that Harry shared with Ben, was no different. 

If he notices her staring, he doesn't draw attention to it, only continues to banter with Sarah, while Y/N stands in the middle of the kitchen, lost in thought. It’s Sarah's voice that draws her out of her reverie, "c'mon Y/N let's try another batch. I want to surprise Mitch for movie night, he loves these things."

——

This movie-night, Y/N wanted to make sure she would be able to sleep at the end of it, and for that reason, horror movies were off the table- much to Harry's dismay. Sarah, Mitch and Jeff, readily agreed, and after some pushing from Jeff and the girls, everyone agreed to watch a rom-com. The question was which one. 

As Sarah scrolls through the movie selections, 'Clueless' catches Y/N’s eye, and she immediately yells out the suggestion with vivid excitement and is promptly met with... silence. "Guys? Clueless is icon-" Y/N starts, only to be interrupted by none other than Harry, "'s a shit movie, we aren't watching it." Before Y/N can object, Sarah comes to her defence, "oi H, don't be an asshole. We know it was Elle's favourite, don't need to take it out on poor Y/N."

While Y/N prides herself on being understanding and kind, she knows she can be a tad oblivious to what's going on around her at times. She had tried to pick up on it when she noticed it and improve because it had indeed gotten her into some awful situations. And if only Y/N had paid a bit more attention to the situation around her, she may not have spat out her next words. She may have noticed Harry's misty eyes and pursed lips, Sarah's empathetic gaze towards him, Mitch's awkward glance in Harry's direction and Jeff's head buried in his hands. Alas, she didn't.

 "Who's Elle?"  

Silence. Y/N is met with nothing but silence. After a while, she can vaguely hear Jeff letting out the breath of air he had clearly been holding in, and Mitch's mumbled "oh god" under his breath, but she was much too focused on Harry's gaze that was now piercing into hers. "None of your business," he gets out through gritted teeth. 

Y/N is somewhat taken aback, she can clearly see that whoever Elle was, she was a sensitive topic for Harry and immediately tries to backtrack. "Oh, um I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" For the second time that night, Harry interrupts her. "Does anyone want popcorn? We forgot to get some." He stands from the couch, now avoiding Y/N's gaze altogether, and she looks around the room to try and gauge the situation. 

The only one in the room paying her any notice is Sarah, who shares the same empathetic look with her that she had given Harry not two minutes ago. Sarah mouths ‘ex-girlfriend' at Y/N, and it's safe to say she feels awful. While she didn't particularly like Harry, she would never intentionally hurt anyone, and she makes the snap decision to follow him, in order to apologise to him properly. 

When she enters the kitchen, Harry is leaning on the counter facing away from her. His shoulders seem tense, and his hair is dishevelled as if he'd been continuously running his fingers through it.

"Harry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bring up such a sensitive topic." At her voice, Harry's shoulders seem to hunch further, and he turns around while taking a deep breath, "just drop it yeah? Think you've done enough." 

Y/N didn't think that was fair. She really hadn't known, and if she had, she wouldn't have even thought of mentioning it. "I didn't know Harry. I won't bring her up again." Y/N had grown familiar with the way Harry's accent thickened sometimes. It happened when he was tired or bored. It was most frequently when he was angry, which seemed to be a common occurrence when she was concerned, and now was no exception. "No shit, stop stickin' your nose into other people's business." 

In any other circumstance, Harry might have noticed the way Y/N's eyes instantly started to water, or how she'd retreated and hunched slightly into herself in submission. Harry had noted she was a sensitive little thing, and while he often tried to get on her nerves, when he saw her nose twitch and eyes mist up, he knew to back off. But currently, he could only see red, and the fact Y/N had made no attempt to move, made his fury run even more rampant through his veins. “Fuck off Y/N, I'm not kiddin'. Go back to the living room." 

"But Harry, I-" Y/N attempts to get out, but Harry's raised voice causes her to immediately stop. "I said, fuck off!" At that, Y/N snaps. For weeks, she had been doing nothing but try to please Harry, but there was just no pleasing him. He was arrogant, apathetic to everyone around him, pretentious, stubborn and worst of all, just plain rude. 

"You're a real asshole, you know that. I understand you're upset, and I'm sorry I caused it, but you don't need to treat me like shit,” she sniffles. “I have tried so fucking hard to get on your good side, but I'm done trying. It's time for you to wake up and realise not everyone is going to hurt you like precious Elle clearly did." Y/N expects Harry to do many different things, she prepares for him to begin screaming, perhaps start crying? She briefly wonders if he would go so far as to push her out of the way and storm out of the room. 

Although, one prospect she didn’t consider was for him to start laughing. "Oh Jesus pet, you think you're that special? You think you can even begin to be compared to her? Think I'm scared you'll.. what? Break my heart?" As he continued to speak, the sound of his voice grew as did his rage. The veins on the side of his neck only became more pronounced, and the crease in his brow caused his whole face to contort. 

The increase in volume had caused an audience to gather. Jeff, Sarah and Mitch stand in the kitchen entrance helplessly watching the two rip into each other. Mitch is the first to step in, "Harry c'mon, that's enough." 

"Fuck off Mitch, stay out of it." He turns back to Y/N, "please, sweetheart, save yourself the heartbreak. Have you ever considered that maybe I just don't like you? You're fucking annoying, and your pathetic attempts to get me to like you are even more so. What were you hoping would come from it? I'd ignore the fact you grate on my nerves 24/7 and pay you a bit of attention? Maybe even get you off once or twice? Is that it?"

Sarah is next to attempt to break up the fight, "Y/N don't bother, Harry's just upset."

It took a lot to get Y/N mad. She was usually calm, maybe a bit emotional, but very rarely did she raise her voice. But Harry, with his constant grouching and aggressive nature, had pushed her well and truly past that point. "Save it, Sarah. Are you fucking serious Harry? I was just trying to be a nice person. I'm not sure how to tell you this, but not everybody is trying to get into your pants. Guess you'd be so used to girls throwing themselves at you until they have a fucking conversation with you and see what a dick you actually are." 

He snarls at that, "trust me pet, they're proper gaggin' for it." Y/N scrunches her nose in disgust, "You're fucking disgus-" The quietest of the group is the next to interrupt. "Oh for fucks sake, both of you, shut up!" 

Jeff was usually quietly spoken and hardly ever lost his temper, he was similar to Y/N in that regard. As Harry's manager, he had formed a close relationship with the green-eyed boy over the past few years, and not once had Harry ever heard Jeff raise his voice. So when Jeff yells, even Harry knows it's time to back off. He stays quiet and instead gives Y/N one last lingering glare before retreating upstairs to the safety of his room. 

Y/N can't help but burst into tears. She hated conflict, and would usually avoid it at all costs, but Harry deserved to be put in his place a bit. Immediately, Sarah is at her side, attempting to console her, but it only makes her cry harder. Y/N feels pathetic, she hated crying in front of people, and Jeff and Mitch's lost stares were not helping the situation. Sarah follows Y/N's eye line, "can you both get out for a bit?" Both boys all but run out of the kitchen. Now that they were alone, Y/N allows herself to really cry, hoping a good sobbing session would clear her thoughts and emotions from the situation. 

——

Harry was sad. He was not going to say he was always sad, because, in actual fact, Harry was happy a lot of the time. He could admit he had a good life, filled with love, happiness and fun, but there were some times when joy felt more like a mirage to him, something unattainable. 

And maybe it just wasn’t for him, maybe true happiness wasn’t in his cards. 

He was someone who quickly became obsessed, found solace and comfort in certain things. Sometimes so much so it became a flaw, something he felt he would die if he lived without, and one of those was Elle. 

It used to be his mum, then music, then Niall, then Mitch, then Elle and then... nothing. Harry hadn’t found something or someone he felt he could rely on entirely since her. It seemed now he only had himself, and in his mind, that was a potentially dangerous thing. His mum was miles away, Mitch found his own solace with Sarah, Elle had left him, and Harry had never felt so alone. 

Isolation made it worse, he couldn’t distract himself with performing anymore, with drinking his body weight in alcohol or finding pretty girls who looked eerily similar to his ex, to spend a few hours with. So often he found himself uncontrollably crying, alone in bed. Harry never felt shame in crying, but there was something particularly mortifying about being loved by millions of people worldwide, yet still sobbing into his pillow because his girlfriend had broken up with him. Not only dumped him but had cheated on, destroyed him and ripped his heart into little shreds. 

And that’s where Harry was now. Lying in bed, his pillowcase wet with tears, eyes stinging and red, his cheeks stained and raw from his constant rubbing at them, and his back aching from the occasional sob pulling at the already taut muscles. 

Harry just needed a hug. He needed someone to tell him it was okay, that things would work out because at this point he honestly didn’t know himself. 

——

The next few days in the house are hell. Not just for Harry and Y/N but for everyone stuck isolating in the space. Y/N and Harry refused to talk to each other, only sharing pointed glares. Harry does all he can to piss her off, without ever having to say a word. While out for his regular morning walk to buy coffee, he purposely 'forgets' Y/N's. When it was his night to cook, he plays the English rap that he knew she hated at full volume, while making prawn pasta. Which really wouldn't have been an issue, if Y/N wasn't bloody allergic to seafood. While he claimed to not know, Y/N saw through him. Just the week before she had refused to eat lunch when Jeff had made tuna sandwiches and had clearly explained why. 

Y/N tried not to let it bother her and instead did everything she could to avoid him. When he'd come home with everyone's regular coffee order but hers, she exclaimed she "preferred homemade!" and brewed her own cup. She put in headphones and shut her door in an attempt to drown out the crap he called music. And when Harry had placed a massive bowl of steaming pasta that she couldn't fucking eat in front of her, Y/N smiled and ordered pizza instead. 

Mitch struggled through the week, staying as quiet as he usually was. If he was honest, he wished he was just quarantining with Sarah. He loved Harry but also knew that he could be a dick when he wanted to be. So despite Harry's constant prodding for him to join in on shit-talking Y/N, Mitch tried to stay out of it. 

Sarah spent the days keeping Y/N company. She felt slightly guilty that she had invited her to spend isolation stuck in a house with what happened to be the only person Sarah had ever met, who hated Y/N. Instead, she listened to her rant when Harry couldn't overhear. She baked cookies with her, and they sang shitty pop music at the top of their lungs whenever Harry decided to blast his music.  

Once again, Jeff surprised everyone. While they were used to his calming and genuine presence by now, no one expected him to play peacekeeper. Harry supposes he should've seen it coming, being his manager for four years, meant the guy had to have some kind of problem-solving skills. So Harry promptly nicknames Jeff, 'Switzerland' and despite his denials, Harry knew Jeff secretly loved it. 

Jeff spends the next few days quietly talking to all the other house members like some sort of pseudo spy. And finally, after three long days of combat, by some miracle, convinces both Harry and Y/N to talk out their issues and apologise. 

At first, both Y/N and Jeff agreed he should be in the room to mediate, but upon the request of Harry, he was waiting just outside the door, waiting for any sign of a fight, to run in and play referee. 

So that led them here, with Harry sitting on one end of the couch, oozing with confidence while actually being a mess on the inside, and Y/N on the other, nervously picking at the hem of her jumper. 

Harry is the first to speak, "look Y/N I'm sorry. You were right, Elle's a bit of a sore spot for me, and I overreacted." She nods in acknowledgement before speaking herself, "yeh, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have pried like I did.” He nods along, still somewhat convinced he wasn’t entirely in the wrong. 

It’s the next question that makes Harry’s blood turn cold, “I just… I just need to ask why? What did I do for you to not like me? It started before last night. Before I mentioned… her.” Y/N scoots around the heartbreaker’s name.  

She watches as Harry bites his lip in what looked like deliberation before he replies, a deep sigh sitting on his pretty lips. “I don’t know. I know that’s a shitty thing to say, I treated you like shit for weeks, but it’s true. I just don’t know.” 

Y/N’s taken aback. Weeks of torture, hatred and tears and he couldn’t even tell her why he’d acted the way he did. “Harry, you can’t be serious. There must be something! You... you were so mean.” 

Y/N watches as tears well in his eyes, and she briefly wonders if she shouldn’t have pushed the topic. “I don’t know, I don’t fuckin’ know.” He lashes out, once again, his anger getting the best of him. 

Y/N throws her hands up in defeat, “I don’t know what you want from me, Harry. I’m trying here I really am, but you won’t give me anything. What do you want me to do?” 

“I know you are,” he all but chokes out. Harry didn’t know how to express himself, a million thoughts were running rampant through his mind, and he felt like if he were to try and speak, he’d have to spend hours detangling each thought from the other like shitty Christmas lights. He takes another deep sigh. He had to try, he knew it wasn’t fair to Y/N. And well, Harry wasn’t exactly happy either, maybe it would help to tell someone how he felt. 

“It’s just when I look at you... I see her. I see her in the clothes you wear and the way you laugh. You look the same for fucks sake, give me the same doe-eyed look and.. she never apologised. Never said a word, I found her in bed with my… with my best mate, and she just fucking left,” he cries out. “And when I first saw you, and you gave me that fuckin’ look I just... I just got so angry.” Harry’s face briefly scrunches in frustration, but it’s quickly overcome with grief. 

He begins to cry harder, his shoulders racking with sobs and Y/N doesn’t know what to do. She sits helplessly, watching the man she very much despised breaking down in front of her, crying previously unshed tears with his head in his hands. 

What was she supposed to do? She wasn’t going to say it was alright because it wasn’t. But god, he looks so pitiful, and Y/N knows what it’s like to have a shitty ex. She knows how painful it is to see them again after they’ve just broken your heart, knows how hard it can be to feel completely, totally and 100% betrayed by someone you loved. 

It wasn’t okay, and Y/N doesn’t know if it ever will be, but seeing Harry, the stubborn, prideful man she’d come to know, breaking down in front of her, well Y/N can hardly stand it. 

So she does the first thing she can think of, the one thing that made her feel better after her own breakup. 

She hugs him. 

She feels him tense up in her arms and for a brief second, Y/N wonders if he’s going to push her away, but instead, he relaxes. Even goes so far as to push into her slightly, allowing himself to rest his head against her chest, with her arms around him like a tantrum-throwing toddler. 

Harry can’t remember the last time he was hugged. Maybe by his mum before the pandemic, probably in a similar situation, crying over Elle in a pathetic attempt to find comfort in anything that wasn’t her arms. 

Harry had returned to LA to record three songs, “it would be two to three weeks max,” Jeff had assured him. But now he was fucking stuck here, in the same place he lived with her, heartbroken in a house with people he loved, but unfortunately would never talk about Elle with. 

Harry missed London. He missed him mum, his sister, the pubs and the tube. He missed hanging out with more mates than he could count, his little writing studio and his cat. Harry missed his own bedroom, his candles that he forgot to pack and his own record collection. Harry missed walking to the little cafe a few streets from his house, he missed the snow. 

But Harry especially missed Elle. 

He missed her cuddles and her sweet little kisses. He missed the way her nose scrunched when he tried to kiss her in public. He missed her laugh and her awful cooking. He missed her book recommendations and her screaming to pop music on the radio. Fuck, he even missed her screaming at him. 

And what a way to make his longing worse, being stuck with the dead ringer of his ex-girlfriend, only to find she was nothing like Elle, which Harry almost hated more. 

Y/N wouldn’t yell at him when he got angry but rather cry, her tears always sending a sharp pain to his chest. And Y/N didn’t pretend nothing worried her or upset her, she was open and honest. When Harry hurt her, he knew, not because she ignored him or called him a prat. No, he knew because she told him, even if it was with tears streaming down her face and a few “assholes” mixed in there. Y/N didn’t call Harry’s hobbies stupid, she liked them too, even had her own silly ones herself. She enjoyed baking, doing puzzles, and reading out loud to herself. She liked Disney movies and hated horror and loved cider but not beer. 

And Harry found himself not hating her at all, but rather himself. Because somehow, within his heartbreak, he had managed to become attracted to someone who looked and acted exactly like his ex on the surface but was someone completely different in every other way. He couldn’t treat her like Elle, couldn’t pretend she’d hurt him just as bad, and he knew that.

No, Y/N was a completely new risk and a new potential heartbreak. Harry was terrified, and this new territory that at first felt so familiar, made his chest ache and his tummy flutter, so he avoided it altogether. Pushed her away before anything could even happen at all, for his own good, to protect a heart that couldn’t take being broken again.

The two of them sat there for what felt like hours. Until Harry’s sobs slowed themselves down, and he was only shivering and sniffling quietly. Y/N continued to hold him, it seemed like he just really needed to be held.

Elle had clearly broken his heart, and Y/N knew that a part of healing was letting this anger and emotion run rampant. So she stayed put, allowing him to just sit in the sadness, and allow himself to feel a little bit of hope that everything would work out eventually. 

“It’s okay Harry. It’s going to be okay.” 

——

Y/N wasn’t sure this was a good idea. How could it be? Not even a few days ago, she and Harry couldn’t stand being in the same room as each other, and now they were alone in a car, on their way to the grocery store. It all felt too domestic.

But this was Harry, and she definitely shouldn’t be worried about the state of her car, or how to subtly remove the McDonalds wrapping on the floor in front of his feet. Just as Harry, after being handed the aux cord, probably shouldn’t have spent half the journey wondering if she liked the song that was playing and looking out of the corner of his eye to judge whether he should skip it or not. 

But here they were, walking on eggshells around each other. Hoping they both wouldn’t do something to accidentally piss off the other. 

If you’d told Harry a week ago that he would be on the way to the grocery store with Y/N by his side, he probably would’ve laughed and faked a gag. But Harry was actually the one who had suggested the trip, much to the surprise of not only Y/N but the rest of the housemates. 

They hadn’t exactly addressed his breakdown, but it seemed they’d both come to a mutual understanding to try and put the past behind them. Harry considered himself lucky, he knew he had caused and furthered the rift in their friendship, and it was because of this he knew he had to put more effort into building the trust between them back up. 

So, when Y/N was recounting the ingredients for the dinner she was planning on making, Harry had asked if she’d just come to save him remembering the long list. Y/N’s first thought was she could probably just write it down for him before she realised he was actually trying to be nice. And that was more than she could say for the last month of her living with him, so she agreed.

The grocery store was busy, filled with impatient mothers and fun-drunk teens, and Y/N was having trouble pushing the cart through the throngs of people. Harry was walking ahead of her, too preoccupied with his list (and she supposes himself) to notice her struggle and she’s never been one to ask for help. So instead tries her best to avoid the ankles of other shoppers and attempts to keep up with the cracking pace Harry had set. 

It’s only when he turns around to find her ten feet behind him, does Harry acknowledge her, his eyebrows pinched in annoyance, “what’s taking you so bloody long?” To say Y/N was taken aback would be an understatement. After everything, he’d manage to stay friendly for what, half a day?

“Excuse me? Doing so well at being friendly Harry, might want to pull it back, before I get the wrong impression.” 

Maybe it was Y/N’s sarcastic words that pulled Harry back, or perhaps he realised himself, but he really hadn't meant to be rude. At first, it was more of a joke, but he guessed that he’d become so accustomed to being snarky with Y/N, it’d come out a lot more maliciously than he’d intended.

“Fuck, what? No- I didn’t mean it like that. I was tryin’ to joke, but it came out wron- Fuck! I’m sorry, okay?” Somewhere in the middle of Harry’s rambling, Y/N starts to giggle. While she had taken it the wrong way, she was mature enough to understand she’d simply interpreted it wrong. 

“Harry relax, look like you're about to pass out. Sorry I took it the wrong way,” she shrugs, “now, where are the pickles? I’ve been craving them for weeks.” Harry’s slightly taken aback, he’d never met someone who could put an extremely valid argument behind them with such ease. 

Harry wouldn’t have blamed Y/N if she’d gotten angry with him, stomped her feet, made a fuss and yelled in his face, after all, he had spoken to her like a prick. But just like that, she had defused the argument and made Harry feel better instantly, even though he was in the wrong. Nonetheless, he follows her through the isles, making sure to help her steer the trolley when the crowd was busiest. 

Harry had actually started to enjoy himself on this trip, he wasn’t going to lie. Y/N had an easy going way about her that he hadn’t really bothered to notice before. It made it easy to chat about nonsensical things, including Harry’s first dog and his preferred brand of nail polish while they peruse the aisles. He was doing all he could to make sure the rest of the trip didn’t contain any silly arguments like the one that had almost sparked just ten minutes before, and he believes he was doing a good job. 

After stopping by the fruit aisle for some cherries (they were in season, and there was no way Y/N was missing out on the tiny period they were in season for, even if they were ridiculously overpriced,) they reach the aisle that contains pickles. Finally, Y/N had been craving them for weeks, and nothing could stop her now, not even the fact that they were on the top shelf. Y/N’s brows pinch in annoyance, who put pickles that high up anyway? 

She halfheartedly sticks her hand in the air, her fingers barely brushing against the bottom of the jar before looking behind her, watching Harry laughing at her struggle. “Are you going to help me or just keep that smug smile on your face?” 

This makes Harry’s smirk upturn even more, turning into a full boyish grin, dimples and all. “Say please sweetheart, and I might just consider it.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes, “please,” and although it is sarcastic and hardly genuine Harry takes it, walking over and reaching for the last jar of pickles. 

What happens next could be blamed on many different factors; the humidity in the supermarket being higher than the average store, it could be blamed on Harry’s sweaty fingers or maybe even the worker who decided to put them on the top shelf in the first place. 

Whatever the fault, Harry grabs the container and almost delivers it safely to the cart, until it slips from his grip and instead ends in a puddle of shattered glass, stray pickles and dripping juice. And of fucking course it’s the last jar, and of fucking course it’s Harry who drops it, right in front of the girl who’s been craving them for so long. 

Harry is almost scared to look up at Y/N’s face, knowing he was more than likely going to be met with a pouting, red, furious mix. She really had been talking about the fucking pickles for weeks, and after both Jeff and Sarah had forgotten to get them in the last two shopping trips, he can imagine her desperation.

It’s as if time was working in slow motion, Harry sees the residue pickle juice dripping from the handle of the shopping trolley, can feel his sock getting progressively wetter as the liquid seeps into his canvas sneaker. And Harry immediately starts to apologise, “fuck I’m so sorr-“ but is interrupted by Y/N manically laughing. Well, he had expected a lot of different reactions, but he hadn’t expected… laughter?

“How did that even happen,” she gets out through her laughter, “you’re an idiot!” Harry can’t help but join in. He was covered in pickle juice, and in hindsight, the situation was pretty funny. “Oi, ‘s not my fault the jar was more slippery than the average.” This only makes Y/N cackle harder, holding her stomach as though it was hurting. 

“Hold on, I’ll get something to clean it up.” As Harry watches Y/N walk away, probably to find a worker, he can’t help but think again how different Y/N was from Elle. Harry distinctly remembers shopping with her one Christmas and accidentally dropping the last box of red and white candy canes (what can he say, he can be a right clutz.) She had been shaking with fury, voice dripping with poison as she asked Harry why he was “such a fucking idiot?” He guesses she was stressed because of the time of the year, but Harry had always hated her vicious temper, which Y/N apparently lacked. 

Harry had only really seen Y/N angry or upset until now, but he could safely assume that was of his own doing. When they were getting along, she seemed to make him feel better without even trying. She could laugh despite herself, and poke fun at Harry without feeling like she was actually reprimanding him for something, and Harry, well he hadn’t really experienced that before.

Harry sees Y/N returning, with what looks to be a less than impressed worker following behind her. That is until she sees Harry standing there in all his six-foot glory, covered in pickle juice. 

She seemed to be around 20, with blonde hair braided into two plaits that sat around her neck. She had bright green eyes, and if she was a little older, Harry probably would have said she was cute. And by the looks of it, she would’ve revelled in such treatment, when she approaches Harry with a, “I’m so sorry, Mr Styles!” Harry waves off the apology, he had been the one to drop the pickles anyway. “No worries love, ‘m sorry bout’ the mess.” 

It’s like her eyes brighten two shades at the pet name as she begins to sweep up the broken glass, blushing as she does, “oh don’t even worry! Can see you made a mess of yourself as well.” Y/N can’t help but laugh, was she actually trying to flirt with a pickle stained Harry? He catches Y/N laughing behind the worker and grins, “sure did. I’m a bit of a clutz sometimes.” 

Now, Harry knew that his personality was very likeable, he was easy to talk to, and he wasn’t exactly bad to look at, so he was somewhat used to casual flirting. Who was he to pull up someone trying to shoot their shot? Usually, he preferred to go along with it, stay polite and at the end of the interaction, cut the conversation before anything serious came of it. And the girl (Hannah, according to her name tag) standing in front of him, cleaning his mess, was no exception. 

“Can see that,” she winks. Actually, fucking winks and Harry can’t help but feel slightly smug, his presumption had clearly been correct. He doesn’t see the harm in playing along, “oh can you? Thought customer service was all about being nice to the customer,” he teases lightly. Hannah giggles flirtatiously and if Harry thought she was blushing before, his effect on her is multiplied. “I’m nice, I promise!” 

Y/N almost gags, she hated PDA at the best of times, but to see them both drooling over each other made her feel sick to her stomach. Harry’s smooth reply does nothing to quell her nausea, “mhm, I bet.” Y/N would literally rather walk home than be subjected to this torture any longer. “Okay! Thanks again for being so understanding, c’mon Harry, we better get going.” 

Harry thanks the server again, giving her a small wave and a cheeky grin as he follows Y/N to the counter to check out their items. “Really, Harry? She looked about 15 years younger than you.” Harry scoffs, “fifteen years?! You think she was twelve, do you? How old do you think I am?” 

Y/N doesn’t hesitate to respond, “old enough to know better than to flirt with someone so young.” 

He couldn’t believe she was pulling this. Harry was a flirty person naturally! He never meant anything by it, and very well knew when it was appropriate and when it definitely wasn’t. He didn’t see how a little friendly conversation could hurt in this situation. “Oh please, she was at least twenty, and I was hardly flirtin’” As the worker is scanning their items, Y/N is packing them into the reusable shopping bags. “Still gross.” 

Was Y/N jealous? For a second, Harry felt the frustration swim through his veins like poison, but the knowledge of Y/N potentially acting out of envy acts as an antidote. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous lovey.” It was Y/N’s turn to scoff. If she’s honest, she’s not sure why the sight of Harry flirting with the server annoyed her so much. She was young, but Harry was right, she was very clearly of age and also stunning. 

Maybe it was the fact she hadn’t acknowledged Y/N with more than an eye roll but readily grovelled at Harry’s feet. It could’ve been leftover frustration from the pickles she would have to hold out from for another week. Or maybe it was that she didn’t like him calling someone else ‘love.’ Perhaps she was just frustrated that it had taken her months for Harry to be civil with her, but had taken ‘Hannah’ all but five minutes. Whatever the reason, she didn’t like the pit in her stomach or the tingling in the tips of her fingers. “Not a chance, Harry.” 

Harry just smiled in response, while Y/N felt waves of negative emotions rolling through her, he felt butterflies erupting from the pit of his tummy, a small fluttering reaching all the way to his heart. Harry was ready to admit, Y/N’s jealousy made him happy. He was a narcissist; that he knew, and a pretty girl getting frustrated that his attention wasn’t purely focused on her, made his vain little heart soar. 

This little shopping expedition had given both of them huge revelations. Harry realised, the thought of Y/N being jealous over him made him extremely happy, and maybe even gave him some new spank bank material? Y/N realised that while she and Harry could be civil, it didn’t mean they didn’t know the exact places to poke and prod at each other to cause a reaction. 

——

It was Y/N's turn to pick a card, and although she'd initially been hesitant to play this game, she could admit she was having fun. When Harry had first pulled out 'Truth, Dare or Drink,' her first instinct was to ridicule him and say, "I didn't realise we were still in eighth grade," but she bit her tongue. After the supermarket, she still felt like she was continually filtering everything she said, worried a single word may be the negative turning point for their relationship. 

And well, after a few rounds, Y/N realised the game was much too risky for a bunch of eighth-graders and found some questions too intrusive even for her adult self to answer. However, with the help of at least half a bottle of chardonnay, she found herself managing just fine. Jeff had called it a night a few rounds ago, claiming he was "getting too old for this shit," but it didn't stop the rest of the group from playing.  

"Okay, ask the player to your left what their favourite sex position is. If they can't answer- both of you drink four sips." Immediately, Y/N turns to Sarah, who happens to be sitting on her left and also happens to be bright red. With a quick, "come on babe, all friends here," from Harry, Sarah buries her head in her hands before mumbling, "from behind." The answer causes an eruption of giggles and hollers from the very tipsy group and a sly smirk from Mitch, making Y/N laugh harder. 

"Alright shut up you lot," Sarah grumbles before picking up her own card. "Dare one player to share their best and worst hookup, or both of you finish your drinks. Okay, well the only one mean enough to name and shame would be Harry, so off you go H." This is met with a disgruntled, "oi" from the man in question and a casual "not wrong," from Mitch. While Harry huffs, he seems to have no issue and responds immediately, almost like he had the answer on the tip of his tongue. 

"Best was Elle, obviously. And worst, um," he deliberates for a few seconds before continuing, "was this guy I met in Brazil, he was awful! Didn't even prep my poor arse, just went straight in for the kill. Was scarred for months." He's met with roaring laughter, and at first, he tries to look pissed but ends up giggling along with them. While his poor bum really had taken a beating that night, in hindsight it was a funny sex horror story for a drunken night. "C'mon Mitchy boy, your turn." 

Mitch picks up the card and immediately scoffs, "This one's to all players, take two sips if you have ever been attracted to someone else currently playing this game." Unsurprisingly both Mitch and Sarah drink, sending cheeky winks over their cups to each other. But what shocks every player at the table is both Y/N and Harry lifting their glasses. They make eye contact with each other as they are sipping and Harry raises a questioning eyebrow towards her. 

Y/N quickly looks over to Sarah, to see her sitting with her own bewildered look, glancing between them. She had known Y/N enjoyed Harry's music, but maybe didn't know how much she also fancied him- that is until she had a conversation with him. 

"So you've either had the hots for me, my girlfriend or the chick you hate, nice H," a very inebriated Mitch says with a laugh. If Y/N hadn't already been watching him, she might have missed the flash of guilt that flickers through Harry's eyes. He looks over at her with an apologetic look, "I never said I hated-" 

"It's fine, Harry. Just pick a card, it's your turn." Y/N interrupts him, she wasn’t going to lie and say that it didn’t sting. However, while she knew they'd come to a newfound understanding, Y/N was well aware that it had initially come from Harry's resentment of her. He sighs but picks up a card anyway, pausing some, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks, before reading it aloud. "Uh... give the person to your left a hickey, or finish your drink." At first, Y/N laughs until she realises that the person sitting to his left would be her. 

In an attempt to lighten the situation, Y/N spits out, "go on, start drinking then." Mitch and Sarah start to laugh, "I could've called that one," Sarah chuckles, but Harry looks rather unimpressed. While she actually didn't care if Harry were to give her a hickey, (let's be real he was a dick, but a hot one at that!) she knew he would be thoroughly put out by it. They had become civil, not ‘drunkenly-give-one-another-a-hickey’ level friends.

"I'm not the one with the problem. I doubt he'd wanna kiss on the girl he hates." Y/N had meant it to be a joke, she really had! But the underlying biting tone would be almost impossible to miss. She was definitely playing with fire here, knowing Harry could snap at any moment. She watches as Harry's nostrils flare slightly before he bites back, "no problem here, you're just scared you'd enjoy it too much sweetheart." At that Y/N scoffs, his arrogance never ceased to amaze her, "oh please, don't give yourself so much credit, Harry."  

He laughs, "are you saying you wouldn't?"

"Almost certain of it," she quickly retaliates. Now, Harry knew he was a dick. He knew he could be impatient and rude. Was aware of his short temper and sometimes biting passive-aggressiveness. Had been well informed of his bad habit of sometimes oversharing and even bragging too much. Even knew how annoying his constant discussion of the superiority of salads to veggies could get on the nerves of those around him. 

But the one thing Harry knew for sure, was that he was good at fucking. He loved to see the person he was with, shaking with pleasure below him. Thoroughly enjoyed giving his partner everything he had, to hear them screaming his name with their eyes rolled back in pleasure. Harry liked having sex, and on account of others, Harry was fucking good at it. So Y/N sitting there, doubting he could make her feel all amazing and jittery, probably pissed him off more than it should have. 

"Fucking c' mere then." While Harry had merely said that in the heat of the moment (and possibly to get a rise out of Y/N) he was beyond shocked when she actually got up and stood before him. "I'm here. Now what smartass?" His jaw ticks and he raises an eyebrow, silently questioning Y/N's challenge. Did she really want to get involved in this? Surely she knew Harry would come out victorious. Apparently not, because she crosses her arms and scoffs, "knew you were all talk." 

Now Y/N doesn't want to admit she's intimidated because god this was Harry she was thinking about. However, when he grips her arms, flips her around and pushes her back into the chair he was just occupying, Y/N can't exactly say she's fine and dandy. 

Harry was much taller than her when they were both standing up, but with her sitting down, he towers above her, and she can't help but feel childlike and demure. His shit-eating grin only grows when he sees that, and he slowly bends down until his cologne infiltrates Y/N's nostrils and fills her head with a fog she can't quite get rid of. "What was that, darling?" 

Y/N is willing herself to say anything, literally anything that wouldn't fuel his already raging ego. If she's honest the barely mumbled, "um, nothing," doesn't really cut it, but what was she to do? Before she'd met Harry, Y/N probably would've considered his looks to be something akin to her ‘dream guy.' So, when he places his hands on each armrest beside her, essentially trapping her, it doesn't exactly help to calm her nerves. Harry oozed sex, and if the look in his eye was anything to go off, he knew it. 

As his face becomes level with hers, Y/N can smell the sweet apple cider he had been drinking and can feel the bottom of his unbuttoned shirt brushing against the tops of her thighs. And for the second time that month, Y/N wonders if she should move away from the compromising position she and Harry had found themselves in, but she once again decides against it. Harry places his hand against the side of her neck, hooking his thumb under her jaw. He encourages her to move her head further to the side with some gentle pressure, which she happily obliges to. 

Y/N can't help but inhale sharply when she feels his slightly chilled lips gently brush against her earlobe, before placing a tender kiss behind her ear. "Is this okay?" If Y/N were in a better headspace, she might have tried to play this whole thing off with an indifferent nod. Instead, she feels herself nodding rapidly, and takes a moment to curse herself as she feels Harry's lips curl into a grin at her eagerness. 

Harry allows his lips to run down the side of Y/N's neck so lightly he knew it must be tickling her. Once he reaches her collarbone, he places a quick peck against it before once again trailing his lips up her soft skin, leaving light kisses in his wake. Y/N's breathing stops as she feels Harry's tongue touching her skin as he begins his ascent, leaving a chilling trail that sends shivers through her whole body. 

She feels herself slipping into a hazy state, in which all control was given to Harry, and while her first instinct is to break it, her second is to bask in it. Her decision is hastily rewarded when Harry starts to suction his lips against her. 

Y/N actively silences the whimper that arises from her throat as Harry continues to bruise the skin he kisses, and she briefly wonders if he had heard the beginnings of her mewl as he chuckles, sending a gust of cold hair down her neck. Harry gently bites down on Y/N's throat, which causes a small sting, the aftershocks travelling all the way down to her toes. But his tongue laving over the mark works to quickly soothe the ache. 

While she felt as if she had sat feeling the effect of Harry's mouth for hours, it had only been about ten seconds in reality. But the familiar pull in Y/N's lower stomach screams at her to ignore time, grab his shirt and push her mouth against his. However, the cough heard from behind her, quells these dirtier thoughts almost immediately. And just like that, as quickly as it had come, the pleasuring warmth Harry provided was gone. 

Y/N struggles to flutter her eyes back open, that she hadn't realised had even closed in the first place. 

Well, she wasn't expecting that, and while she assumed Harry would feel the same, his deep smirk tells her something different. He looks at her with a hunger in his eyes, and she briefly wonders if he felt the same pull towards her. Y/N was fighting the urge to drag him to the nearest bedroom and instead clears her throat and looks behind her to assess Mitch and Sarah's reactions. 

Safe to say, they were as shocked as she was, with gaping mouths and wide eyes, everyone sits in silence for what feels like far too long. Y/N was embarrassed. Usually, she hated PDA, yet she'd just let Harry suck on her neck like some kind of B-grade vampire in front of her cousin and her boyfriend. 

Y/N stands back up to move around to her own chair, but with her head down, she misses Harry reaching to brush his knuckles against her own, but only feels the comforting touch. Harry watches as she refuses to meet his eye, and while he enjoyed himself, he hoped he hadn't gone too far with her. But when Sarah grabs her head and pulls it to the side to see the blooming mark on Y/N's skin, Harry can't help but smirk and feel slightly proud. Y/N had said she was okay with him touching her, maybe she was just flustered, and if her bright red cheeks were anything to go by, that's Harry's safest guess. "Jesus H, you really did a number on her." 

Y/N refused to acknowledge the effect Harry had instilled upon her, but she can feel her cheeks radiating a cherry-red heat, and she can only pray no one else notices. "Uh, it's my turn," she manages to choke out, and a quick glance at Harry shows she's not hiding her flustered state as well as she'd hoped. His dimples are on full display, decorated with his complacent grin, and he's sitting back in his chair, arms crossed over one another. 

"Pick the most attractive player, both of you take three sips," you've got to be fucking joking, she was pretty sure everyone knew her answer to that, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. "It's Sarah. Who's next?" Sarah cheers' Y/N's glass and takes her sips as she grabs the next card. 

Y/N can see Harry's disgruntled look and can vaguely hear his murmured, "bullshit," but she only sends him a glare as she takes her three sips. 

——

Harry was drunk. No cut that, he was fucked. It was approximately six ciders ago that he began to feel light and giggly. And then maybe two or so ciders ago he began to have trouble walking in a straight line and was genuinely considering shaving his head. And now, he was here. Planted on the couch watching Y/N and Sarah sing some song he definitely knew but couldn't name, Taylor Swift maybe? 

His head felt heavy, and if he was honest, thoughts were entering his head and then leaving it before he could even acknowledge what they were. He can vaguely recognise Mitch's voice, talking about something that Harry, no matter how hard he tried, could actually listen to. So he sits on the couch and watches Y/N. She looked pretty with her hair down and messy, and Harry wishes he could stop her from dancing and ask if she could just sit next to him instead. But he thinks he's probably just drunk and maybe a bit lonely, so he doesn't. 

He's not sure if he was calling Y/N's name and hadn't realised or if she had noticed how not okay he seemed, but she approaches him anyway. "Harry, are you alright?" She looks worried, and Harry hates that he's made her feel that. He's tempted to use his thumb to mould the lines in her forehead back out like cheap clay, but he's not sure she'd want him to touch her. So he nods lightly, attempting a smile, but she doesn't return it. 

"Sarah, I'm gonna take Harry up to bed, he seems pretty gone." Harry doesn't hear Sarah's response because he's too busy focusing on Y/N's lips and how pretty and puffy they are. He briefly wonders what they'd feel like around the head of his cock, but he's drawn out of those thoughts when he realises she's calling his name. 

"Harry, c'mon, come upstairs to bed with me." Um, had Harry missed something? He doesn't really mind, truthfully he'd quite like to take Y/N upstairs and have his way with her, but, Y/N must see the look on his face because she laughs, "not like that you lecher! God, you really are pissed." 

Harry smiles and takes the hand she's giving him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders for stability. The group had experienced quite a few drunken nights during isolation, but Y/N had never seen Harry this intoxicated before and while she's quite enjoying him acting kind of goofy, she's just praying he doesn't vomit on her during their climb upstairs. 

Y/N does her best to guide Harry to his room, who provides absolutely no help, only giggling to himself as she struggles to hold him up. Finally, she makes it, only realising once she had stepped inside, that she had never actually seen Harry's room before. 

Similarly to Y/N’s, his room has the shell of a guest bedroom, the art on the walls a little too unpersonalised and the furniture stark and white. The bones of the room are fleshed out with Harry’s belongings, clearly in random places that were not permanent, as if he’d placed his records and guitar down the first day he got there, and left them in those exact same places. There are dirty clothes strewn upon the floor, and books sitting next to glasses stacked neatly on the bedside table. Next to them, is a candle that Y/N can’t read the scent of from her position in the doorway, something sweet from the smell permeating through the room, mixing intoxicatingly with Harry’s telltale sandalwood like cologne. 

Harry stands in the middle of the room, clearly having forgotten his purpose as he turns to look back at Y/N with a slightly lost expression. "Want to get into bed Harry?" He nods and stumbles over to his mattress, falling rather than laying in it. As Y/N's about to turn around to go back downstairs, she hears Harry's voice, much quieter than it usually is, "I'm sorry." She's not sure if she heard him correctly. 

"What did you say, Harry?"

"I'm sorry." He whispers. 

"For what?" Y/N knows what he could be sorry for, he did treat her like shit for weeks, but they’d already apologised and somewhat buried the hatchet. "For bein' a dick. You don't deserve it, never did." She walks closer to him, until she stands about a foot from the bed, and can see Harry's eyes full of sorrow and close to tears in the dark. 

"Come on, you're just drunk. If you want to talk about it more in the morning, we can." Y/N knows he'll forget by then, she's not sure he even remembers what he just said. He holds his hand out to her, and she hesitantly takes it, "ya just look so much like her, you know? Act like her too." Harry repeats the same words he’d told you yesterday. 

"Who, Harry?" 

He looks at her with his big green eyes, and she knows he's drunk, and she knows he'll forget this all in the morning, but she can't help but sit down beside him on the bed. 

"Elle." 

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t want Harry to burst into tears again, the topic clearly sensitive, let alone in his intoxicated state. So she stays silent, watches as Harry shuts his eyes, and Y/N nearly thinks he’s fallen asleep, until he reopens them again, "nicer than her though. Prettier too." 

Y/N's not going to lie, hearing Harry talk about her in a way that wasn't entirely negative for once was flattering, but she couldn't help but feel it was more the cider talking. She knew how much he missed Elle, that much was obvious, and she had thought that was what had made him hate her so much. She was worried he would wake up angry that he had told her things he hadn't intended to, or even worse, something he hadn't meant. 

So she leans over him to grab the side of the bedsheet he had torn away, but his freezing hand on her neck causes her to pause. His thumb is lightly brushing over the mark he left on her earlier, and Y/N audibly swallows. He was close enough that he could lean in slightly and press his lips against the same spot once more, but he doesn't, only whispers, "looks so good on you." Y/N feels his warm breath against her bare neck as he speaks, causing that pull to return to her lower stomach once more, "H, I don't think we should do this right now." 

Y/N didn’t know what exactly ‘this’ was, she just knew she didn’t want either of them to be intoxicated when it happened. The Harry Y/N knew, would pull back, laugh and ask if she really thought he'd ever want to do 'this' with her, but this intoxicated and unpredictable Harry presses his lips softly to her neck once, before pulling back and sighing. "I know." 

He studies her face carefully before speaking again. "You've never called me H before, I like it." Y/N sighs, "honestly I didn't think we were on that level. Thought you'd get mad at me," she laughs lightly although what she said was true. 

She had thought about adopting the same nickname everyone else in the house used but was too scared he would make fun of her or ask her why she felt she had the right to call him that. So she played it safe, only calling him Harry, but she guessed the nickname slipped out while he was very much inebriated and very much unlikely to say any word of opposition. 

If Y/N didn't know any better, she'd think Harry looked almost hopeful as he whispered, "so we are now?" but the expression is fleeting. She wants to feed into it but isn't sure if it's more her mind playing tricks on her. Showing her things she desperately wants to be true, only to turn around a reveal it was fake the whole time. So she shrugs, "I don't know Harry." 

He nods slowly but doesn't say anything else. "Try to get some sleep." He nods again, "night." 

"Night H." 

——

Harry doesn't know what happened. Had he been drugged? Used as a voodoo doll? Abducted by aliens? Something had happened, because when he woke up with a pounding head, his first feeling was disappointment. But not disappointment about having to nurse a shocking hangover, no, it was disappointing that Y/N wasn't in bed with him. He could’ve sworn she had come upstairs with him. 

Harry was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he didn't hate her and perhaps, just maybe had developed a small crush towards her. But wishing she was cuddling him after a drunken night? That was too close to something serious, something that Harry was definitely not ready for. Not after Elle. 

Walking down the stairs, he wonders if there's a reason for his sudden desperation? He vaguely remembers giving her a hickey, but that was a part of the game. He remembers Y/N walking into his room and sitting on his bed, but can’t recall what was actually said. 

Stepping into the kitchen, feels the same as usual, maybe with added head pain. Mitch is doing the dishes from the breakfast sitting on the table in front of Y/N and Sarah. Everything seems painfully familiar. Except, looking at Y/N now, with sober goggles and daylight, Harry completely understands why drunk him was so enamoured. She looks beautiful, with an oversized tee-shirt barely covering her smooth legs, her hair in a messy bun atop her head, and the striking hickey against her neck painfully obvious. Seeing Y/N with his mark against her neck makes Harry have to will his stiffy away. She hadn't even tried to hide it.

Harry doesn't know how long he'd been standing in the entrance of the kitchen, staring at Y/N like a creep, but she catches his eye and sends him a shy smile. "Mornin' H, brekkies on the table," Mitch states, as Harry quickly returns the smile Y/N gave him and sits across from her, "looks good, man. Thanks for cooking." 

Harry is slightly shocked when Y/N speaks up from the other side of the table, he had been expecting her to ignore him like she had after he’d given her the mark that was causing a tingle in his lower tummy. "How's your head?" She says softly. 

He gives her a small grin, "it's been better if'm honest." She laughs, "yeh, you were pretty fucked last night." Harry can't tell if she's genuinely just making conversation or if she's trying to figure out if he remembered the events that occurred. "Was I? Not too drunk to remember giving you that," he points at her neck with his syrup covered fork. His words have their desired effect as Y/N turns bright red, "really does look good on you love." 

Harry's not sure what he's doing, he's aware of how flirty he is being. While they were now able to be around each other and have a conversation without biting each other’s heads off, hitting on each other was a whole different ball game. All he knows is that the more he looks at Y/N, the more he wants to get on his knees before her. 

Harry had never flirted so openly with Y/N before. What the fuck was he playing at? Y/N had assumed that Harry became a tad clingy and loving with a few drinks in his system. So as he sits across from her, dead sober, and continues to flirt with her, Y/N is confused. Maybe he was still drunk? Had he taken something she wasn't aware of? Been probed in the middle of the night? She wasn't sure, but she couldn't say she didn't like it. 

She also didn't want to get too comfortable, only for him to turn around and treat her as horribly as he had when she first got here. So she gives him a small smile and continues to eat her breakfast, merely listening to the conversations happening around her. 

——

No matter how hard she tried, Y/N could not get the thought of Harry off her mind. Could still feel the ghost of his lips trailing along her neck, and the way his hand brushed along hers. She couldn’t help but imagine the way his lips would feel pressing softly against her own, his tongue licking into her mouth. She imagines his hands to be soft but still firm as they held her hips, her neck, her own fingers laced in his. His voice replays in her head, and she wonders how his accent would twirl and twist around filthy words, whispered into the shell or her ear. 

 She can't forget how she felt hearing the lilt of his voice when it was flirting with someone else. Can’t get away from the pit in her stomach, the aching head and chest. She had laid awake for so many nights trying to figure out why exactly it had bothered her so much. 

She could only amount it all to a certain type of jealousy, but what was she jealous of? Harry had never shown her any sort of romantic attention before, that is until he was suckling at her neck and calling her sweetheart. But what did it all mean? Did he feel the same pull towards her, or was she just imagining his sudden fondness of her? Did she actually like him, or just the idea of his lips pressed against hers rather than her neck. She needed to talk to someone, and thank goodness for her, Sarah was home. 

Ever since they were little Sarah and Y/N had been ridiculously close. They had experienced each stage of their lives together, from playing at the local playground to trying their first cigarette in the bathroom of Sarah’s family home. Sarah was the big sister that Y/N had never had, always there for advice or a bit of fun. Teaching her about sex and drinking, what it was like to kiss another person or drive a car for the first time. Sarah explained everything with practiced expertise that looking back on, Y/N could see she definitely didn’t have at the time.  

Their family homes were only a road apart, and every day either Y/N or Sarah would make the small trek to each other’s house and spend hours discussing nothing and everything. Sarah was the closest thing Y/N had ever had to a sibling, and after Sarah had left for tour with Harry and the band, Y/N had felt a Sarah sized hole in her heart. Honestly, for Y/N, quarantine felt like a blessing in disguise, she felt like they could make up for the months of lost time and distance between them. 

In search of her cousin, Y/N only comes across Mitch reading in the living room, “hey, do you know where Sarah is?” He glances at Y/N from above his book, owlishly blinking as if he was confused, and maybe he was. Mitch is well known for getting lost in anything he loves, from books and movies and especially in his music. “Um, the shower… I think?” 

Bidding him thanks, Y/N heads towards the downstairs toilet where she could hear the water running. While they all had bathrooms in their rooms, they’d found the downstairs communal shower particularly helpful. It was easy to slip into after they’d just come back from swimming at the beach or a run, without mucking salt water or sweat through the whole house. Y/N knew Sarah had gone out for a jog about an hour ago, so had no doubt she was having a quick wash before dinner. 

If it were anybody else, Y/N would’ve waited until they had finished, but ever since they were thirteen or so, Y/N and Sarah had an odd tradition of having intense conversations while one of them was showering. Y/N still remembers the week Sarah’s parents had decided to split up, she had spent every night sitting on the closed toilet seat crying and ranting while Y/N stood under the hot water, listening and trying her best to comfort her. It was a weird habit of theirs, but for them, the chance to chat with someone without having to look them in the eye was therapeutic, almost like a church confessional. 

Although Y/N was relatively happy, she wasn’t about to enter a religious confessional. When it came to Harry, she had definitely committed at least four of the seven mortal sins. No, it was just Sarah, and Y/N knew that no matter what she admitted, it would be received with love and unconditional support. So she charges through the bathroom door, eager to spill all that was muddling up her mind, “Sarah! We need to talk about Harry, I need your help.” 

Y/N expects Sarah’s tinkling laugh, soothing cooing, maybe even a big sigh and her calming voice asking her what was wrong. Instead, she is met with the deep and drawling laugh of Harry himself. 

Looking back now, Y/N wishes she could say she dealt with her mistake with careful grace and poise, but instead she lets out a bloodcurdling scream, and as she sees the shower curtain drawn to the left she slaps her hands over her eyes. The melodic laugh of Harry’s continues as he clearly notices her current predicament, “can look if you want babe.” 

Y/N whines, “I- um, no. I don’t- I thought you were Sarah. What the fuck is happening.” Y/N can hear the smirk in Harry’s voice as he answers, “yeh Y/N, I got that. Seriously, I’m covered up.” 

And maybe, it would’ve been better for Y/N to stay standing with her hands over her eyes like a petulant child because as she drops them, the sight she’s met with is one to behold and one Y/N’s not sure she can handle. Harry is covered with the shower curtain pulled across his bottom half, but Y/N trails her eyes upwards, sees the small trail of slightly damp hair leading down to the white curtain, and her eyes widen comically, he looks like a wet dream and Y/N’s not sure how to react. 

His curls are stuck to his neck and forehead, matted against the soft wet skin. His naturally tanned chest is on display, dripping with water, and covered in his tattoos. Y/N can’t help but notice the inked swallows along his chest, drawing attention to his collarbones, the skin taught against the bone, and Y/N wants to kiss along it and taste the mix of salt and sweetness of his neck. The butterfly covering his abs ripples as he clears his throat, drawing Y/N’s attention away from his body. 

“So what did you need to talk to Sarah about, hm?” Anything I can help you with?” Y/N can feel the blood rush to her cheeks, fully aware that Harry had caught her ogling at his partially naked body. Her tongue feels heavy in her mouth, and she’s not sure whether it’s from the sight in front of her or the embarrassment of being caught staring at it. 

Y/N stutters, trying to force herself to say something, anything at all that would make this situation less unnerving “um, I-no?” Which comes out more like a question than anything, and Y/N curses herself for her weak resolve. Harry smirks, “Cat got your tongue pet?” Y/N hates how easily he can get her worked up, and hates it even more how obvious it is to him. “Stop teasing me! I can’t, you know, I don’t-... you’re naked okay!” 

Harry’s dimples deepen, and a smirk takes over a little less than half of his face, “don’t pretend you don’t love my teasing, darlin’.” It’s at this point that Y/N realises that she had been in this situation much longer than appropriate, standing flustered and hot from Harry being so close to her while nude. 

“I need to go,” it comes out as more of a whisper, her voice rough with lust. She coughs as if to clear her throat, but from what she’s unsure. The intense desire she feels for a man she despised a month ago, perhaps? “Relax Y/N, no big deal. I think Sarah’s in the shower upstairs though if you’re still looking.”

She nods in response, slowly backing out of the room before turning around and quickly shutting the door behind her. She feels her breath heaving in and out of her lungs. Feels her throat tighten and her head dizzy, and an intense tingling feeling starts at her toes and spreads all the way to her lower tummy. The familiar pull of lust and need brings an ache to her core, and she feels the sticky heat between her legs. 

While Y/N may not know it, Harry is affected by her as much as she is by him. He stands in the shower, a stupid grin across his face, dimples indenting his cheek. Harry could pretend he didn’t see Y/N blatantly ogling him, or her cheeks burn a delicious crimson when she had gotten caught. Could even pretend he didn’t see her subconsciously squeezing her thighs together while she stood in front of him, like she was so desperate for Harry she couldn’t even wait to relieve the tension building inside of her. 

Harry could pretend not to notice, but as he felt a tingle zap down his spine, and the accustomed rush of blood to his lower half, Harry realised he didn't want to. Would rather explore this unnerving territory, and see what it had in store for him. 

——

Harry had reached a new level of boredom. So much so, he had resorted to doing a puzzle.

Harry was notorious for always being busy, was constantly on tour, playing shows and promoting his music. The quietest periods in Harry’s life were the months of writing he’d participate in, where his mind was anything but still. He wasn’t used to doing nothing all day, and while he had tried to write during isolation, the months of doing fuck all made inspiration hard to come by. 

So it led Harry to his current situation, trying to complete a challenging puzzle at the dining table. Sarah and Mitch were napping the late afternoon away, Jeff was playing Xbox games in the living room, and Y/N had gone for a walk, right after she had brought the puzzle out from her room after Harry had asked her to. He had heard her talking to Sarah about how much she loved puzzles a few months ago and had even shown her the one she had brought to quarantine; however, she hadn’t gotten the chance to start it yet. 

Harry had been doing nothing all day, and he was sick of sitting in bed, refreshing his Instagram feed every ten minutes. To be honest, a puzzle wouldn’t have been Harry’s first choice of a relaxing pastime activity, but there was only so much social media and movie marathons Harry could take. 

He was nervous at first to ask Y/N. Over the last few days, it seemed like there was a certain tension between them, as if they were both aware of the lust that had been swirling throughout the bathroom as thick as the steam from Harry’s shower, but didn’t want to admit it. They were testing the waters, sometimes stumbling through amorous conversations, while still attempting to maintain their indifference. 

However, he was slightly remorseful of his decision for a different reason, when he asked Y/N if he could borrow it from her, she had squealed in excitement, telling him her ‘top tips’ for completing a jigsaw for at least ten minutes. He guesses her passion and love for the shitty quarantine past time, overrode her awkward feelings towards their situation. If he was honest, Harry didn’t give a fuck about “making sure to find the corners first!” but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so he nodded along and pretended to listen. 

But Harry had really come to regret his decision when he hadn’t found a piece in over an hour. He was frustrated and the stifling temperature Sarah insisted on keeping the house at, wasn’t helping. He had completed a small section at the top right corner, five or six pieces on the left, and a few random bits he had stuck together and somehow happened to get correct. He was slightly embarrassed when Y/N returned from her walk, to find him with his head in his hands, looking more than sorry for himself. Her tinkling laughter doesn’t make him feel any better, either. 

“Having trouble H?” 

He looks up to her standing in the doorway, attempting to plaster his award-winning grin upon his face, “if I’d known it was this hard I never would have asked if I could do it.” She grins back, and walks over to the table, looking down at the pieces with a concentrated focus. “Hm I never said it was going to be easy, thought my tips would help, but I guess not.” 

Harry tries yet another piece that doesn’t fit with the ones surrounding it, and sighs, “if the puzzle master wants to help, that would be lovely,” he lilts. She picks up the segment Harry had just dropped and places into the correct position on the opposite side of the puzzle that Harry had placed it in. “You’re flattering me now.” She hesitates for a tick, “lucky for you, I like it.” 

Harry loved this new dynamic between them, it was light and teasing, something he hadn’t had with her before. He’s not going to lie and say that he didn’t slightly enjoy the biting exchanges they had previously shared, but this flirty air between them was exciting.  

“I’ll keep that in mind pet. Now, what were those tips again?” 

It’s safe to say Harry was impressed with Y/N’s skill, he had never thought puzzles were that difficult until he actually tried to complete one. Y/N however, was fast, seemed to pick up pieces and instantly be able to connect to where they should go, and quickly finished at least ninety percent of the puzzle. Harry fit the odd part in place, which Y/N praised each time, with a small cheer and a “well done!” each time. Finally, the puzzle was almost complete with only one gap in the picture of golden retriever puppies climbing on one another. 

Y/N looks at Harry and hands him the last puzzle piece, “you should put the last bit in.” Harry can’t explain the warm glow that emits from his heart, he doesn’t know why it makes him so happy. She was kind and considerate, and Harry wasn’t used to people always putting him first, usually being doubtful of anyone he hadn’t known for a while, worried about what their true intentions were. “You sure? You did most of it.” She giggles, “nah, we did it together!” Harry takes the bit of cardboard from her and places it in the last empty spot. 

He looks up at Y/N who’s grinning at him stupidly, and he can’t help but smile back. It’s then that Harry starts to really look at Y/N. He notices the dusting of freckles on the top of her nose, her eyes laced with pride and happiness and her lips, the bottom one stuck between her two front teeth, but both looking so soft and sweet. Y/N must catch Harry staring at her lips because she releases the supple flesh from between her bite. 

“Did you have fun?” She whispers. 

Harry tries to reply, but his voice dies in his throat. All he can manage is a small nod, his gaze dropping back to Y/N’s mouth. He lifts his hand to her face, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, and she leans into the touch slightly. Unknowingly, they had gotten even closer, and Harry can feel her small puffs of air against his lips, could brush them against hers if he leaned an inch forward. 

“Harry, what do you want to do for dinner?” Mitch yells from the room one over, scaring both Y/N and Harry, who instantly pull away from each other. Harry coughs, “um, I don’t know man.” 

Mitch walks into the room, Sarah in tow, who sees the completed puzzle on the table and runs over, “you finally did it Y/N!” Harry looks over to the girl in question. Her cheeks a cherry red as she looks over to Harry, “uh yeah, Harry and I did it together.” Sarah looks between them, with an impish look on her face mixed with slight disbelief, “oh, that’s… nice.” 

Harry’s attention is drawn away from Y/N when Mitch pipes up again, “I was thinking tacos, so we could make frozen margaritas for game night.” Harry is grateful for the change in topic, knowing Sarah was more than likely to make a comment that Harry was not ready to address. Particularly if Y/N had indeed continued the conversation she had planned to have with Sarah a few days ago when she’d walked in on Harry in the shower. 

“You know I’m always down for a margarita.” 

—— 

Y/N was slightly buzzed. She hated feeling entirely out of control when she drank, and she’d found the perfect point between dead sober and sloppy. She felt a warm feeling in her fingertips and toes, felt slightly light-headed and was just a tad obnoxiously giggly. The group had been playing monopoly, and while Y/N usually hated the game, she was thoroughly enjoying it tonight. 

Sarah had been helping Y/N, so she wasn’t so lost in terms of properties and the differences between houses and hotels. Jeff was as quiet as usual, but somehow had a secret talent for swindling properties and hoard money. Mitch had prioritised his margarita over the game, buying random properties when he felt like it, and fucking up everyone else’s plans of winning. And Harry had made it his mission to beat Y/N. If he was honest, he just loved seeing her pout every time he would buy whatever spaces were left of the colours she was aiming for, or teasing her every time she got a smaller roll than him. 

As Harry bought another green property that Y/N was gunning for, she realised she was nursing an empty glass. “Does anyone want another margarita?” Agreements come from all around the table, so Y/N gets up, grabbing a few empty glasses. As she stands, she feels the blood rush to her head, a slight dizziness tingling through her body, and she giggles as she stumbles towards the kitchen. 

Harry and Mitch had made the previous rounds, Y/N watching the first couple be made. Which meant she probably should remember the ingredients, but if she’s honest, the copious amount of alcohol running through her bloodstream has caused a lapse in her memory. Was she supposed to put one or two cups of ice in? Y/N curses herself and her shitty memory under her breath, realising she will definitely need help. She was clearly too tipsy to think coherently. 

“Oi, how much tequila do I put in? And is it Cointreau or triple sec? And how much ice do I use” She yells into the adjacent room, sighing slightly, hoping someone would come and help her. And she can’t explain her excitement when Harry rounds the corner, maybe because the pressure of making the drinks had been lifted, but more likely because it was simply him. He comes in with a smiling face, his hair slightly messed and his eyes filled with the misty happiness of someone who is perfectly buzzed. 

Y/N couldn’t quite describe the shiver that travels down her spine or the tension she feels in her stomach, all she knows is in the last few days, the intense feeling had begun to grow stronger whenever Harry was around. There was something about him, the way he carried himself, the shy smirks he’d give her, or the gentle touches he’d provide as he walked passed her. 

In every touch, every look and every feeling she got from Harry, Y/N could sense the tension growing stronger. She was amazed the rest of the group hadn’t picked up on it, other than Sarah of course, who was watching from the sidelines, waiting for one of them to crack. 

“What’s the problem bunny?” His eyes soft as he walks over to a defeated Y/N. He watches as her eyes crinkled slightly as she giggles despite herself, “I wanted to make everyone drinks, but I realised I don’t actually know how to.” She sheepishly watches Harry’s face mirror her own with a small grin, “well that just won’t do, will it? Sit on the counter n’ I’ll show you again.” 

She jumps on the kitchen bench, the surface cold against her otherwise alcohol flushed skin. She watches Harry gather the ingredients from around the kitchen, noticing the way his back strains against the white and yellow t-shirt he was wearing, the arch of his back clear and his shoulders strong and broad.

Over the past week or so, Y/N had started to see the funny and charming personality that the rest of the household had previously been privy to. His witty and sweet persona had shone through, and it had done nothing to curb the intense sexual feelings she felt towards him, instead they were only growing, especially with each pet name that his puffy pink lips shaped around. 

Harry begins to place the ingredients in the blender, and Y/N is confident he’s giving her instructions as he does so, but she is just so distracted by his strong fingers adorned by his shiny rings, each one a different shape and size. “Are y’listening?” 

She snaps her eyes back to his face, to see one side of his pretty mouth tugging upwards, suggesting he already knew the answer to his own question. “What are you lookin’ at my hands for?” She feels the warmth rush to the apples of her cheeks, sheepishly replying, “I was just looking at your rings, they’re very pretty.” 

He smiles and jokingly holds his hand up to her face, wiggling his fingers. Y/N chuckles and grabs his pointer finger, pulling it towards her to get a better look. She holds his hand while looking at the silver band wrapped around his digit, eyeing the small red ruby shining brightly in the centre of it, “like this one,” she whispers. He matches her volume, stepping closer in order to hear her, “it was my mums, she gave it to me after my first concert sold out. Her mum gave it to her after she got married.” She runs her finger over it gently, noticing the worn edges, and tries to imagine the many stories it had experienced in the hands of three generations. “It’s beautiful.” 

This felt like a moment for both of them. Obviously, Harry and Y/N had experienced many conversations and experiences before, but none quite like this. Harry feels the warmth from her body radiating into his, can feel the sweat from her hands as she holds his own. He can hear her calm breathing, the slow rise and fall of her chest. Of course, Harry had felt lust before, but he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to kiss someone as badly as he does right now.

He can’t explain how desperately he wants to inch forward, hold her pretty face in his hands and press his lips against hers. Instead, he makes do, moving closer to her and feeling a bloom of happiness in his chest when she opens her legs for him to stand between with no hesitation. 

She smiles, his hand still nestled into hers, although her focus had moved far beyond his rings. It now laid solely on his face and the way he was looking at her. He rests his free hand on the counter beside her, close enough that she could feel the outside of his thumb brushing against her upper leg. 

Harry bites his tongue, he wants to say ‘so are you,’ but even he knows that’s cheesy. Plus he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries, he knows Y/N is attracted to him but is also fully aware that doesn’t equal consent. He settles for lightly brushing his thumb against her leg and watches as a shiver racks through her body. With a slight giggle, she grabs his other hand, that’s causing the mildly uncomfortable sensation, with her free one, “that tickles.” 

And Harry’s not a mind reader, but now they’re just holding hands, plain and simple. He doesn’t know if she feels the same heat and tension settling between their lips, but the way she leans in slightly, tilting her head to the left gives him an indication she does. It’s subtle, and if Harry hadn’t been sitting between her legs praying she’d do exactly that, he might not have picked up on it. But he does. 

He leans in too, leaving a slight gap between them. Y/N can feel the tiny puffs of air, leaving Harry’s mouth and drawing into hers and can feel the little tufts of hair tickling her forehead. 

She brushes her lips against his gently, testing the waters. He feels as soft and warm against her as she’d imagined. Y/N retracts slightly, unsure if she had overstepped a boundary. The only reaction she could read was a sharp inhale on his part, and she was worried that it wasn’t a positive sign. 

But she couldn’t have been more wrong. 

He lifts his hand from hers and places it against her neck, his hands big enough to tuck his thumb under her jaw, while still using the rest of his fingers to gently push her back against him.

She tasted so much better than he would’ve thought, sour from the margaritas with an underlying sweetness that he couldn’t put his finger on. Harry can barely hold in his groan when her tongue slides against his lower lip, and he gladly opens up further. He feels her whimper against his thumb before he hears it, the rumbling sending vibrations up his arm, leading him to feel dizzy. 

He feels Y/N rest her hands against his shoulders, sliding them over his neck and resting her forearms behind his head. She leans further into the kiss, somehow opening her legs further, her hips slightly bucking towards his own in a silent plea for friction. Harry doesn’t hesitate to give it to her, pressing himself against her and instantly feeling the effect of his actions. She runs one hand through the curls sitting at the back of his head, tugging gently and pushing her own hips back with as much vigour as he had.

That is until the click of heeled boots is heard echoing against the kitchen tiles. 

The speed at which Harry jumps away from his position between Y/N’s legs is comical, and she almost wishes she could see it from an outsiders perspective. However, not as much as she wishes Harry’s lips were back on her own. 

Y/N looks between the boy she had been kissing with his hair messy and fluffy, and the apparent growing bulge in his pants to the shocked Mitch standing in the entrance of the kitchen. His mouth hangs open comically, and his hands hang loosely by his sides. 

The silence is too much for both Harry and Y/N to bear and looking at Y/N’s face, now bright red, and brimming with embarrassment and stress Harry feels it’s his responsibility to put her slightly at ease. “Mitch… um look-” 

“What the fuck is going on here?” Harry doesn’t even get the chance to finish his sentence before Mitch is interrupting. Harry pipes up again, “it’s nothing!” Y/N can feel her brows turning downwards and the corner of her lips curling in annoyance. She knows Harry is more than likely trying to cover their asses, but Mitch had seen them kissing, and it didn’t make Harry downplaying everything hurt any less. 

Harry sees her face and quickly tries to backtrack, “well I mean not nothing… it’s something!” 

“No shit it’s something! How long have you guys been fucking for?” This time Y/N is the first to speak up, “we are not fucking! We haven’t even-“ she starts, completely flustered, her face somehow becoming even redder, “we just kissed!” Mitch bursts out laughing, as Y/N and Harry stay completely still, both absolutely mortified. 

“Alright mate, fuck off,” Harry grumbles, praying that Mitch would just leave the uncomfortable situation alone. And he does, still laughing as he finds his way back to the living room. Y/N has no doubt that he would go straight to Sarah and Jeff to share what he’d just seen. Harry turns to 

Y/N and while he tries to maintain a serious face for her sake, he can’t help but let out a small chuckle. 

It wasn’t the first time Mitch had walked in on him during a ‘private’ moment, some a lot worse than what he’d just witnessed. But Harry doubts any would be more shocking than the kiss Mitch had just seen. According to him, Y/N and Harry were at most on civil terms. So to see them, in a more than compromising position must have been a considerable shock to the system. 

“Why are you laughing, you ass?” While Y/N’s words are anything but kind, her face gives away her true feelings, a small grin peeking through. She wasn’t too concerned, Sarah already knew the current situation Harry and Y/N had found themselves in, as well as Y/N’s feelings on it. She was probably waiting for this very scenario to occur.

However, she was worried about where Harry and her would go from here. 

She knew he was attracted to her, he wouldn’t have kissed her otherwise. Y/N couldn’t help but think that maybe Harry had done it in the moment, and didn’t feel that same attraction all the time. What if he saw her leaning in and was pitying her? Y/N was terrified that now that Mitch knew, Harry would be too embarrassed to kiss her again. 

But Y/N’s worry is immediately put to hold when Harry grabs her hand again, “you’ve got to admit it’s funny.” He rubs his thumb against her knuckles, hoping to soothe any worry still running through her veins, “are you okay though?” Y/N smiles and squeezes his hand, “yeh, more than.” 

Harry leans in slowly, making sure that even though Y/N had claimed she was fine, that she would still be okay with him kissing her again. She doesn’t move away, instead moves closer and he smiles and presses a soft kiss against her lips. 

“We should probably get back out there,” he mumbles against her plush lips. She nods in response, squeezing his hand once more before jumping off the counter. “I’ll see you in the living room.” 

—— 

Harry didn’t regret kissing Y/N, not by a long shot. What he did regret, however, is two things. The first was agreeing to continue drinking with Mitch after everyone else had gone to sleep, and the second, kissing Y/N while intoxicated. 

He had enjoyed it, he knew that much. But he’s fully aware that he may not have gotten the chance to absorb every detail of the moment. He couldn’t forget the feeling of her lips against his or the way she bucked up against him. However, he is struggling to recall the way her hips felt under his fingertips, or whether or not he could smell the strawberry scented shampoo she used, that previously, he had only caught gusts of. 

Harry needs to know, when they kissed, did her eyebrows furrow the same way they do when she bites into a warm jam donut? Or when he slotted his hips against hers, did her mouth hang open, eyes shut tightly like when Sarah dug into the knots in her back? Did she make the same sounds Harry had already heard? Or were there some privy only to moments of privacy like the one her and Harry shared? He didn’t think to notice if the skin on her cheeks was as soft as it looked, or even if her hands held onto him as firmly as they had grasped onto the chair, the night Harry had first gotten so close to Y/N. 

Harry couldn’t help but feel like he’d somehow hiked up mountainous terrain, dodged every jagged edge Y/N initially threw at him, stumbled through open conversations and insinuations. Felt he had somehow navigated overwhelming selfishness and every mixed feeling, to finally reach the top and for some stupid reason just close his eyes. He was only just able to smell the mountainside air and feel the rocky surface but was utterly blind to the magnificent sight in front of him. 

Harry was also worried that Y/N was too intoxicated to know what she was doing. Harry was big on consent, always had been, and he knew the chances of drunk him doing something Y/N wasn’t okay with was very unlikely, but what if? What if for some reason he couldn’t read the body language of the girl he had spent months admiring? Or what if she had said something of opposition and he hadn’t heard her? 

Harry was stressed, and the pounding headache beating through his head was definitely not helping. 

He knew the only way to make sure what happened last night was okay and enjoyable for both parties, was simply asking Y/N. So after going to the bathroom, splashing some cold water on his face and changing into some sweatpants, Harry makes the trek downstairs. 

He’s met with an interesting site. Mitch is sitting at the kitchen counter, head in his hands and shaking his head. Jeff is doing dishes and looks to be purposely clanging noisy dishes in front of Mitch and then laughing at each flinch racking from the man's body. While Y/N is standing at the stove, cooking something that Harry can’t decipher, in her cloud pyjama pants and a sweatshirt that looks suspiciously like his.

If Harry listens intently enough, he can hear her humming under her breath, a soft tune that lifts all the features of Harry’s handsome face upwards. 

Harry starts by walking over to Mitch, placing his hands on both of his shoulders and squeezing lightly, “c’mon Jeff, lay off the poor guy!” Jeff only laughs in response jokingly swatting at Mitch's head, still buried within his hands. 

At the joking tone within the kitchen, and the fact that Jeff had not immediately berated Harry about his relationship with Y/N, Harry realised Mitch had decided not to tell the rest of the house. Or at least not Jeff. Harry couldn’t have been more thankful for Mitch's undying loyalty and bizarre talent of somehow knowing exactly what Harry wanted or needed. With Y/N’s relaxed manner, he assumed she had come to the same conclusion.  

At the sound of Harry’s voice, Y/N whips around, her face lighting up at the sight of the man she had kissed not 12 hours ago. And the look of delight and need on Y/N’s face works wonders to calm Harry’s nerves, while Y/N’s were skyrocketing. He looked as handsome as ever with sleep still gracing his features, his chestnut hair in a mess on top of his head and eyes slightly puffy and red. In all honesty, Y/N couldn’t get over how it felt to kiss him, and while it had happened, she couldn’t help but feel thirteen again, with a crush on the cute boy in class. 

It was like he knew exactly what she was thinking, his tongue darting out from between his lips, leaving them wet and glistening in the early morning sun. And Y/N just can’t seem to draw her attention away from them, can’t stop the image of him pressed against her replaying over and over in her mind.

Maybe it was the way her eyes drooped slightly, her nostrils flaring ever so subtly, but Y/N gets the feeling that he knows exactly what she’s thinking, his left eye dropping in a wink that leaves Y/N’s tummy fluttering. 

“Mornin’ love.” His voice is hoarse and deep with residue drowsiness, and it does nothing to ease Y/N’s churning stomach. She coughs lightly before replying, “morning H.” Her voice is uncharacteristically quiet and manner docile, as she tries to hide the less than appropriate thoughts running through her head. 

He walks over to the stove, leaving Jeff and Mitch behind in the presence of someone far more interesting. “Smells good, what are you cookin’?” 

Y/N giggles, the sound unnecessarily loud and she cringes at herself before replying, “um, pancakes. Made some more just in case you guys wanted some.” In truth, Y/N knew Mitch didn’t like pancakes, Sarah wasn’t even awake yet, and Jeff had just started a very strict ‘no sugar’ diet, and so those extra pancakes were specifically for Harry after she had heard his sink running upstairs. And well, Harry knew all of that too. He feels a certain spaciousness in his chest one can only attribute to gratitude, and it makes him want to draw her close to him and kiss her cheek in thanks. 

Instead, Harry grabs her small hand in his and squeezes it lightly, before walking over to the fridge to get the maple syrup. “What’d you want on yours, babe? Nutella?” 

Y/N smiles and nods her head, giddy with the tingling feeling travelling through her hands and the prospect of spending more time with Harry. 

—— 

The day had been quiet. Y/N felt as if she had been wading through water all afternoon, sluggish and slow but somehow using more energy than walking on land required. The whole house felt slow-moving, most of its inhabitants spending the day in front of the TV, reading books or napping. And so it made sense for their daily activity to be a movie night. 

The housemates had decided a Disney marathon would be a perfect end to a hungover day, and with Jeff’s only condition being that they watched ‘Bambi’, everyone was in agreeance. 

Y/N had offered to organise the snacks and drinks while everyone else brought down pillows and blankets from upstairs, the room looking cozier then she had seen it in the past few months, and at the centre of it, Harry.

In the same position, he had been in the night they had sat watching cartoons in the early morning together, only to fall asleep and wake up in each other’s arms. It felt like so long ago now, but Y/N knows in reality, not that much time had passed. She found herself feeling thankful for how their relationship had evolved, and the effect a little time had given them. 

It was funny how far they had come. Y/N was so worried Harry had hated her after that, she now wonders if he’d always felt some type of draw towards her, or if he really had hated her as much as he made out. She briefly wonders if he’s thinking the same thing as she is, as he looks at her questioningly, standing in the doorway of the living room, unmoving. 

Y/N smiles lightly, and begins to move towards the couch, realising that there were three blankets in total, one being used by Mitch and Sarah, seemingly very close underneath the cover, one thrown over Jeff and the other sitting across Harry’s legs. She hesitates for a moment, the obvious choice being Harry, but she isn’t sure where their relationship stood, and more importantly, how much the rest of the housemates knew about it. 

Harry quickly provides a solution, “y’can just share my blanket if you want pet.” Y/N’s tummy flips, but the blank stare she gives him as she runs through all the repercussions (good and bad) coming from her doing that, comes off more as confusion. Did he forget that Jeff didn’t know about the kiss? 

Harry sits uncomfortably in the silence. “Or not, whatever you want.” Silence again, and with each passing second, Harry’s facial expression becomes more and more exasperated. 

Mitch is smirking, giving Harry a knowing glance. Sarah is looking at Mitch confused, obviously trying to figure out her boyfriend's cryptic facial expression. Jeff was the most bewildered of all, clearly completely lost. 

“Fine, fuckin’ forget it. Y’can share a blanket with Jeff ‘Mcvomit’ Aezzof. Or maybe you can jack Mitch off under the blanket with Sarah, and all of us will pretend we don’t know. How bout that hm?” Harry knows he’s being slightly unfair to all those just mentioned. 

A month ago, during a game night, Jeff had consumed slightly too much alcohol and subsequently vomited all over the living room carpet and Harry’s rainbow Gucci boots. Safe to say, Harry was not impressed and hadn’t let Jeff forget it either. 

He also knows he’s being unfair to Sarah and Mitch, although, he’s not exactly wrong. Harry had no proof anything was happening under Sarah’s unicorn blanket but they always sat suspiciously close, and some strange movements had definitely been observed during movie nights, particularly when the crew had binged ‘50 Shades of Grey.’

No one had mentioned it to each other, until one night, Y/N had tried to subtly ask Jeff and Harry if they had noticed too. The two boys immediately agreed, admitting they both had their own suspicions. However, this was the first time anyone had brought it up with the couple in question. 

He’s instantly met with outcry from both Sarah and Mitch.

“Oh for fucks sake H.” 

“You’re so crude.” 

“We do not do that.” 

Jeff also looks unamused, mumbling under his breath, although the shouts from the couple drown his reply out, “you have too much to drink one time, and no one lets you forget it.” 

But Y/N, in true Y/N style laughs, and all of a sudden Harry doesn’t feel nearly as bad for his accusations or his teasing of Jeff. “Alright bug, alright. You made your point, scoot over.” 

Y/N settles under the blanket with Harry, tucking her legs underneath her, trying to maintain a healthy distance from him. She hadn’t really been so consciously close to Harry before, only ever being asleep, drunk or… busy. Y/N noticed his signature scent was present, a warm cedarwood cologne that somehow made her nostrils tickle and insides feel slightly warmer, like a shot of whiskey travelling down her throat and spreading through her tummy. 

Maybe it was the man the smell lingered to that made her feel so comfortable and warm, or perhaps it was the blanket and heat radiating from him, but either way, Y/N loved it. She revelled in the comfort and feeling of safety that she didn’t often bask in, and it was Harry of all people who made her feel like this. 

She briefly wonders what this movie night would entail. She was happy they were already close to each other, stealing glances. Each bout of eye contact bringing a tingle through her spine, a shiver wracking through her shoulders when she noticed him glancing at her with his signature smirk and bright look. 

She was aware that they were slowly moving closer to each other with each passing second of the film playing in front of them. When she had initially sat down next to Harry, she could feel the warmth radiating from him, but now she could feel his side pressed against her, and his leg slightly crossed over hers.

If she’s honest, she was much more focused on the handsome individual sitting next to her than on the movie anyway, and consequently, she missed the first twenty minutes. 

What she cannot miss, however, is Harry’s hand coming to rest gently on her thigh. His palm flat against the plush flesh and his nails lightly scratching at the skin lying over it. 

She looks over at him, his strong jaw and cheekbone highlighted by the dim light of the TV screen, his nose slightly pointed at the end and his long eyelashes fluttering against his skin. She watches as his pink lips tug upwards, bringing a smirk and deep dimple to his handsome face. With that smile, she realises he knows she’s looking at him, and probably knows the effect his touch is having on her. The only acknowledgement she receives is a small squeeze of her thigh. 

She can’t help but scoff, his lax attitude directly opposed her own, if she was honest, she often felt on a different plane than him. Y/N tried to deny it, but she could be highly strung. When she was in a situation where she felt comfortable and safe, she was easygoing, a delight to get along with, and was often confused as someone who was undoubtedly more affable than she really was. 

It was one of the first days of year ten at school when Y/N had experienced her first panic attack. She can still remember the way her hands shook like healthy green leaves in a summer storm, could never forget the tightness in her chest, the closing feeling of her throat, and the tears that blinded her. While the panic attacks had become less frequent as she aged, the underlying symptoms that bubbled into the panic she experienced still tended to rear their ugly heads. 

Harry, on the other hand, seemed endlessly relaxed. While Y/N had initially only seen a more uptight and priggish side of him, it was almost like he enjoyed those negative interactions between them, for the sole reason that he could skillfully get under Y/N’s skin, watch her squirm and burn red. Any other time she witnessed Harry he was almost always equanimous and the voice of reason in the odd little group that found themselves quarantining together. 

He was so comfortable, seemingly so unaffected by her, while she felt his presence made her head spin and heart race. 

He leans closer to her, his curls tickling her collarbone, “are you watchin’ the film?” 

She nods, the action sending a wave of her perfume to invade his nose, the smell somehow so addicting and familiar to Harry now. “Yeh, the sad part is coming soon, though.” 

It’s his turn to scoff, “don’t tell me you’re gonna cry on me.” 

Y/N looks up at him, watching as his bunny-like front teeth capture his bottom lip, “and what if I do, hm?” 

Harry’s first thought is to say he’d get her some tissues and embrace her until the tears seeped into her sullen soaked skin, but he knows that’s even too corny for him. Instead, he looks around the room to find everyone too focused on the movie to pay attention to them, and chuckles lightly, kissing the top of her cheekbone. “Might cry with you love. Poor Bambi, never knew what was comin’.” 

While Y/N looks around the room, she quickly relaxes as she realises no one was paying enough attention to notice Harry’s affectionate action. She stifles a laugh, “we’re in this together then, aren’t we?” 

Harry can’t help but feel like she’s not just referring to a sad Disney movie, but instead the situation they had found themselves in. It was confusing, both of them not entirely over their exes, but both seemingly enamoured with the other, something that felt like it had happened overnight. 

He didn’t know if she felt the same way he did. He simultaneously wanted to fuck the shit out of her and cuddle with her on the couch, for god's sake he wanted to comfort her when she was crying over fucking ‘Bambi.’ Harry was confused. 

He hasn’t felt like this about anyone since Elle, and while Y/N hadn’t spoken about her ex with Harry directly, he had overheard a few snippets of conversation between Sarah and herself. 

Before Y/N had come to stay with the group, Sarah had briefly explained the situation, the fact she had put all her effort into a three-year relationship that had ended brutally, with the asshole showing no remorse towards Y/N or her feelings. Harry didn’t want to push her or himself, but he felt a draw towards her that he couldn’t ignore. 

The way she placed her hand gently on top of his, still laying on her thigh, and tangled their fingers together made his heart swell, and it was at that moment he decided he didn’t care about Elle. For the first time since they broke up, Harry didn’t wish the person he was with was his cheery faced ex-girlfriend. He wanted Y/N, and he hoped with all his heart, she wanted him too. 

He looked over at her, her soft skin and red cheeks glowing gently from the light of the TV screen. 

Harry’s feelings are only confirmed, when he hears the gunshot sounding through the room from the movie, hears a small sniffle coming from the girl next to him, and feels her fingers tightening around his own. Harry knows that somehow, through everything, he wanted Y/N to be there next to him at the end of it. 

—— 

Harry sat stewing in his feelings as the night progressed, each member of the house slowly abandoning the marathon, opting for the warmth of their beds instead. 

If he was honest, Harry was exhausted, but he couldn’t bear to leave Y/N alone. She had waited patiently through everyone else’s choices, sung along with Sarah through ‘The Little Mermaid.’ She had gushed with Mitch over the fantastic visuals in ‘Hercules’ and watched carefully for Harry’s reactions to ‘The Beauty and the Beast,’ squeezing his hand when the last petal fell, and Belle professed her love for the Beast. 

Harry didn’t think it was fair that everyone had chosen bed over watching Y/N’s movie, over singing along to ‘Tangled’ with her. Chosen to sleep instead of talking about how good the animation was and squeezing her hand every time Flynn and Rapunzel were close to kissing. 

So Harry does the best he can. He listens to how excited she gets through the fighting scenes, does his best to sing along to songs he’d never heard before, and listens to her speak about how mean she thought Mother Gothel was. Each scene, he watches her eyes widen in comical child-like glee, and her cheeks flush as she laughs at Harry’s impersonation of Flynn Rider. 

It’s as Mother Gothel is falling out of the window that Harry realises Y/N’s grip on his hand has loosened and that she is resting against his shoulder, asleep. He smiles, bringing his knuckle to brush against her cheek, gently waking her up. As she slightly startles, he kisses her nose, “y’ fell asleep bug.” 

She looks surprised, immediately looking to the screen, “oh shoot. Missed my favourite part too.” Harry can’t help but kiss the small pout that graced her lips as she realises this, which she quickly returns. Harry’s lips tingle as she hums in contentment, causing them to pull apart slightly, Harry touching his lips and giggling. 

It was all so domestic and sweet, a kiss leading to nothing in particular, and Harry loved it. Revelled in the idea of kissing Y/N for the pure pleasure of feeling her soft lips against his own, and for nothing else. As Y/N speaks her lips brush against his, still flush against each other, “we should get to bed.” 

As they both make their way upstairs, hand in hand, they dawdle as if to stall their inevitable parting, and as Y/N prepares to speak their goodbye into existence Harry decides he doesn’t want this night to end. Didn’t want to part from the warmth Y/N provided, to lose the feeling of her face pressed against him or the way her hand felt nestled in his. So Harry does the one thing he can think of, something he may come to regret later, 

“Do you want t’ sleep in my bed tonight? You don’ have to if you don’t want to, of course.” 

Harry observes Y/N’s face, and he feels as if he goes through the same range of emotions as she does. First surprise, then apprehension, her head tilting as she thinks through her decision.

Harry thinks maybe she’s misinterpreting his intentions. Don’t get him wrong, he would jump at the chance to have sex with someone as lovely as her, but he really just wasn’t ready to leave her. Wanted to feel her asleep in his arms, hear the small snores he’s sure she would make and brush her hair away from her face when it looked to be tickling her in the middle of the night. 

“No funny business dove, I promise.” 

Finally, a small smirk graces the young girl's face, her top teeth hooking into her lower lip, a little giggle erupting from her mouth while she nods her head. 

Harry’s face subconsciously matches Y/N’s, a replica giggle floating through his mouth and into the air between them, “yeh?” 

She nods once again, “yeh.” Harry feels nothing but relief, a giddy bubbling feeling erupting from his chest, rushing through to his fingertips. He almost believes she feels the exact same burst of emotion when she squeezes his hand as he pulls her into his bedroom. 

It smells the same as the last time she was in his room, except this time, there was a sense of certainty in the air. While Y/N had previously tiptoed into his private space, terrified of crossing a line both physically and metaphorically, she no longer felt that same apprehension.

She entered the room with confident footsteps, aware that they had already entered a territory in which they would struggle to backtrack from. Aware that Harry would more than likely revel in the fact she was in a space he considered sacred, rather than feel uneasy.

She was correct in her assumption. He watches the way she looks perfectly placed in a room he previously hated anyone else entering, her energy already matching his own, but somehow adding an exuberant light into a space that, before her, had represented his despondency. 

Harry begins getting ready for bed, takes off his pants and shirt, left in only boxers. As the cotton of his top slides over his mass of curls, he catches Y/N staring, her mouth slightly parted, pupils dilated and cheeks pink. 

The cocky boy smirks slightly, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion ever so subtly, and a gust of wind passing through his nose as a form of laughter. “Would you prefer me to keep my pants on babe?” 

His cheeky tone works to bring Y/N from her stupor. She stumbles over her words, clearly embarrassed Harry had caught her ogling at his body, again. “Uh.. no, no whatever’s comfortable, I guess. Do you want to keep your pants on? You can, of course, I just…” 

“Teasing Y/N,” his smirk grows into a grin, his dimple flashing her once again, “I’m only teasing.” She visibly relaxes, her shoulders returning to the normal position, and her eyes closed, trying to shake the remaining embarrassment from her system. 

“You are the worst.” 

He only laughs, “and you take yourself too seriously. Now, do you want a shirt to sleep in?” 

While Y/N might usually be offended by him saying something like that, she knows he’s not wrong. In fact, he’s entirely correct. He just knew exactly how to wind her up, what buttons to push to make a flush rise to her cheeks and for her sentences to become stuttered. 

“That would be nice, thank you.” 

Harry only nods, walking over to the dresser in the corner and rummaging through, pulling out a white shirt with the phrase “enjoy health, eat your honey” on the front. He holds it up in front of his body, waiting for Y/N’s approval, which he quickly receives, throwing it over to her in response. 

She looks at him expectantly, waiting for him to give her the courtesy of changing in private. “Do y’ mind, you lecher?” 

He startles, “oh uh sorry.” Y/N watches as a blush spreads from his cheeks to his neck, a clear sign of his humiliation, and he quickly turns around. 

She changes, giving a soft cough when it’s safe for him to turn around. Harry can hardly believe his eyes, he knew she was beautiful, but fucking hell, it was like an angel had been sent to him from heaven. 

Her legs were soft, and Harry wanted nothing more than to trail kisses up her thighs, past the dotting of stretch marks, patches of missed hair, and the hem of the shirt that sat loosely against her. He could see her nipples poking through the fabric, firm, surrounded by supple flesh, that Harry had trouble to stop imagining. Her face was soft, a pleasant but embarrassed smile pulling along half her face, smoothed by the leftover makeup she hadn’t bothered to remove. 

She was fucking beautiful. 

“Stop looking at me like that you…” 

“Lecher. I know. It’s hard not to be when you look like that.” Her cheeks turn an even darker shade of crimson, and her eyebrows draw up in surprise. Harry didn’t know at what, she was his very own wet dream, and he had trouble imagining that she didn’t know that. 

Unsure of what to say she patters towards the bed, lifting the covers and lying beneath them, facing the side he usually slept on, waiting for Harry to lay in her line of sight. He does, his cheek getting gently squished against the silk pillow, his hair billowing out from his head, creating an unruly mess around his face. 

“I don’t…” she sighs, clearly struggling to string together whatever was going through her mind. Harry grabs the hand laying between them, and gives it a gentle squeeze of encouragement. He had been vulnerable in front of her weeks before they had even shown interest in each other, and he wanted to give her the same comfortable space to talk through what she was feeling. 

She lets out another breath and continues, “I like when you call me beautiful. I just don’t know how to respond, I’m not all that used to it.” She snorts despite herself, “isn’t that sad?” While she’s laughing, Harry can see the sadness set behind her eyes, and so he doesn’t laugh. Only squeezes her hand once more and replies as steadily as he can, “it’s not sad. I understand.” 

Her laugh turns more genuine, “oh so even the Greek god gets self-conscious? Thank god for that.” He quickly matches her jesting tone, “for sure, need to be humbled somehow.” He pulls her closer and rests his head in the crook of her neck, listening as the giggles she emits, vibrate through her body, and he can’t help but smile too. 

He was happy and at peace. And for the first time in a long time, both he and Y/N slept through the night, relief and giddiness seeping through their pores. 

——

Harry awoke in a daze. His arm was numb, his head slightly dizzy and body just a tad too hot. Then he sees Y/N asleep in front of him, head resting on his bicep, hair a mess, and her hand resting on his, placed on the pillow in front of her face, and all of a sudden none of it mattered.

She was beautiful. It makes Harry wonder about the last time they’d woken up together. He remembers feeling scared, denying any comfort he had found within her in his arms, and he wonders if his subconscious had always known she was right for him. 

They seemed to fit together so seamlessly, for a couple who couldn’t stand the sight of each other months prior. 

Harry uses his free hand to sweep her hair away from her neck, leaving a space for him to press his lips against. Her skin was warm, slightly tacky from sweat, and he breathed her in, dragging his nose up and down the nape of her neck. 

He hears her begin to wake, repositioning her legs under the covers and her breath beginning to quicken from the lull of sleep. A small hum of contentment leaves her lips as she feels Harry’s mouth kissing on her skin. 

“Mornin’ sunshine,” he whispers, his breath tickling her. She lets out a laugh, her voice heavy with drowsiness, “morning H.” 

The hand that was already resting loosely in his tightens as she loops their fingers together, “how’d you sleep?” 

He squeezes back, “better than I have in months. What ‘bout you?” 

She leans further back into him and exhales, “so good.” Harry hears the relief in her voice, and he feels it too. Was this all it took to stop his own self wallowing? Being pressed against her? It was like she brought her own kind of calmness to his unstable mind, and while he knew she would disagree with him in saying it, she was a source of purity, a way for him to feel carefree. 

He wanted to tell her, but something was stopping him. What if she wasn’t quite as committed to whatever they were as he was? Harry had never been good with his feelings, preferring to write his emotions into his music. Fuck, sometimes even selling his songs to others to avoid the message coming from his own mouth directly. 

But as Y/N turns around, her mouth inches from his, her eyes wide and doe-like, Harry thinks he’d never be able to live with himself if he didn’t tell her how he felt. The words creep up his throat, and he tastes them on his tongue, sweet and rich. “I... I really like you. I’m not sure how you feel about everything. I just know I haven’t felt like this since… well for a while, and that’s kind of scary.” 

Harry closes his eyes, not wanting to see Y/N laugh in his face, as well as hear it. Instead, he feels a soft hand on the side of his face, her thumb gently brushing against his temple, and then softly against his eyelid, coming to rest just below it. “Open your eyes, dummy.” 

He flutters his eyes open, met with Y/N’s gaze, revering and sweet, “I like you too, Harry. Thought I made it pretty obvious.” While Harry loved Y/N calling him ‘H,’ the slow drawl of ‘Harry’ made a shiver roll up his spine.  

He can hardly contain the smile that slips upon his mouth, leaning up slightly and kissing the thumb resting against his skin. Harry feels his heart beat a little harder in his chest, the relief freeing the worry from his lungs, his muscles finally relaxing, no longer having to uphold the weight of stress upon them. 

If he was candid, Harry had never had to fight for anyone’s affection before. As narcissistic as it sounded, people usually gravitated towards him, whether for the right or wrong intentions. But Y/N had stood her ground, immediately unimpressed by his blase and borderline rude attitude and had reverberated his energy right back at him. If Harry was honest, at first he hated that about her, but it had come to represent her honesty. It made the affection she showed him now that much more special. 

Harry felt as if he had earnt her respect and affection, because he deserved it, not the ‘Harry Styles’ found in the tabloids. He had found someone who made him feel like a real person, and a good one at that, someone who deserved the love she so readily gave him. Harry was lucky enough to be lying next to that someone. 

“You’re right… you did drool over me in the shower. Remember that?” And just like that, the moment of vulnerability is over. 

Y/N lightly slaps Harry’s arm and lets out a disgruntled sound, “aish, you really are a lecher.” He laughs and grabs the hand that just hit him, bringing it back up to his face and kisses her palm gently. He looks back at her face, all traces of aggravation wiped from it like cheap lipstick, replaced with contentment instead. She slips her hand back to the side of his neck, her fingertips trailing through the baby hairs laying against his skin and kisses him. Her lips feel slightly chapped but still so warm, and Harry let’s out a relieved exhale. 

He couldn’t explain why, but this kiss felt different from any other he’d experienced with Y/N, hell any other he’d shared with anyone. It had all the intensity and lust of their kiss in the kitchen, added with a sense of emotion that Harry couldn’t quite place. Each press of her mouth, each swipe of her tongue or gentle nibble of his lower lip felt like she was desperately trying to convey every feeling Harry previously doubted existed. 

Harry remembers the night of their first kiss, recalls thinking he had never felt lust like that before, never wanted to kiss someone so badly, but now laying in this bed with Y/N running her hand through his hair and her hips lightly bucking towards him, Harry feels as if he’s surpassed the way he had felt then. 

He feels pure unadulterated need flowing through his veins, can’t even begin to explain how much he wanted Y/N. She turned to fully face him, tangling their feet together and pressing herself further into the kiss. Harry wishes he could give her more, wants to bring every drop of pleasure to her he possibly could, wants to touch and kiss each part of her. It felt as if a spark had lit within his body, beginning at his chest, travelling all the way through to his fingertips, and straight to his groin. 

Harry brings his thigh between her legs, and she takes advantage of it instantly, rubbing against him. He groans as he feels her warmth pressed against his leg, and he can tell she is suppressing her moans of pleasure as she pushes down harder with each gyration of her hips. 

“Tha’s it baby, get what you need.” 

At this, she leans her head back, a mewl erupting from her throat. Harry kisses down her exposed neck, sucking and nipping a love bite into the skin below him. Bringing his hands to her waist lightly, he helps to guide her in grinding against the thick muscle of his leg. 

She grabs one of his hands grappling at her hip and brings it to her chest, where he feels her hard nipple poking through the thin material of her top. He squeezes and pinches gently, hearing her breath hitch directly in his ear, bringing goosebumps to the skin along his arms, her hands grabbing his broad shoulders and neck. 

With his other hand, he slowly slips his thumb past the hem of her sweatpants, running it along the soft skin there. The tickling sensation completely contradicts the harsh action of her hips rubbing against him, causing a shiver to trickle down her spine. Y/N whines into his ear so quietly, Harry wonders if he actually heard her at all. “Please.” 

“What do you need, hm? Tell me.” 

A bated breath parts her lips, “fuck…anything.” She knows it’s not enough, knows Harry wants to hear exactly what she wants from him, but she’s embarrassed. Isn’t quite used to anyone asking her what she wanted and needed, and Harry’s filthy tongue only brings her more unnecessary shame. 

“C’mon Y/N, use your words. I’ll give you whatever you want, just use your word’s for me.” 

Her hands dig into his shoulders, “fingers, please!”

He kisses her temple and murmurs a quick, “good girl,” before dipping his hand completely into the front of her pants, still only teasing along the line of her underwear. 

Y/N’s not sure how much she can take. Every move, every touch is goading and light, clearly trying to provoke her, and as much as she loves it, she needs relief. She grabs at his arm that is currently so close to the place she needs him to be and tries to force it closer to her, harder against her, anything other than what he’s doing now. “Harry… c’mon, please,” she all but cries. 

He chuckles before slipping into her underwear, feeling her wet heat against his fingertips, she was already dripping for him before he’d even touched her. He presses her clit gently while he kisses against her neck, flicking his tongue against the ghost of the hickey he had given her earlier, the pain mixing so deliciously with the pleasure. 

While he had stopped his teasing touches, it didn’t stop him from using his teasing words. 

“This the first time you’ve gotten so wet for me, pet?” She furrows her eyebrows, shaking her head side to side, attempting to hide her face into his neck. He feigns surprise, “no? Filthy girl. Ever touched yourself thinking about me?” She whines, picking up on his teasing, further burrowing her face away from him, trying to hide the very obvious flush that had risen to her cheeks. 

He laughs, nudging her head with his nose, trying to encourage her to show her face again. She mewls once more, the only indication she heard him was the bucking of her hips against his fingers, now inside of her and stroking against her g-spot. 

“Next time, just ask for my help instead,” he murmurs into her ear, biting at her earlobe. She hisses, attempting to press against him even harder, get even closer to him, although it was almost impossible, being pressed flush against each other with his fingers knuckle deep in her cunt. 

He licks against her jaw, feeling the strong bone under the tender flesh, the warmth of his breath blowing against the damp skin of her neck causes her to shiver, “can I taste you?” Y/N doesn’t think she’s ever nodded her head harder, her eyes rolling back into her head, merely thinking about Harry tonguing the sensitive skin between her legs. 

He continues to kiss down her neck, taking extra time to lick against the dip in her collarbones, revelling in the tangy taste of sweat invading his mouth. He sucks her nipples through her shirt, the material clearly wet and spit-soaked once he pulls away, the air surrounding them, making the outline of her areola obvious. 

He presses a few chaste kisses against the swell of her tummy, finally reaching where she needed him most. He slowly pulls her pants down her legs, trailing the hem with pecks against each inch of newly exposed skin. Grabbing each ankle, he pulls the cuffing over her feet, playfully biting at the bone on her ankle, causing a shriek and a giggle to erupt from her and a playful press against his cheek, imitating a kick to his jaw. 

He laughs, batting her foot away from his face. “Oi don’t damage the money-maker!” 

 Y/N bursts out laughing, shaking her head. He was an idiot, but she loved that they can switch between moods so quickly. While she’s still laughing, he’s pushing her legs apart, his hand nearly fitting over the whole surface of her inner thigh. “C’mon love, spread your legs fo’ me.” 

And with that, Y/N stops laughing. 

While continuing to push against her leg, he presses an open mouth kiss against the front of her underwear, already able to taste the heady flavour. Harry can’t help but let out a deep groan, every nerve ending set alight at his mouth finally around her cunt. The tip of Y/N’s tongue tingles with a beg for him to take off her underwear, but Harry acts on his own accord, almost ripping the garment off in his haste. 

If Harry thought the taste of her was mouthwatering through the cotton, the taste of her without it was even better. 

He had meant to tease her, he really had, but he can’t help but lick straight into her weeping hole, moaning at the taste and the smooth feeling of her smeared against his mouth. Spreading her lips with his pointer and ring finger, Harry continues to explore, flicking his tongue against the swollen bud underneath her pubic bone, causing a loud moan to erupt from her mouth. 

“Holy fuck Harry! Feels so good.” 

Harry tucks two of his fingers into her while sucking at her clit, Y/N tugging at his curls harshly in response. 

It feels so good, but Y/N needs more. The feeling of Harry’s fingers is making her skin tingle, and her legs shake, but she wants nothing more than to be stretched out by him. She wants him to give her everything, push into her slowly, stretch her pussy, and finally feel his cum spurting into her. 

So she pulls him up, one hand still intertwined in his hair and the other on his shoulder, scratching and pulling as a hint to bring his mouth to hers. At first, he’s hesitant, grumbling slightly in annoyance, not wanting to part from her, “Harry please, want to kiss you.” 

He gives her one more harsh suck, before sliding back up her body, where Y/N is waiting with her mouth open and her eyes on him. Harry smirks, slipping the two fingers that had just been inside of her against her tongue, feeling more blood rushing between his legs at the feeling of her licking and sucking them as if it were his cock. 

She bites gently, causing a hiss to escape from his mouth as he drags them back out slowly, quickly replacing his fingers with his lips, licking into her mouth.

The tangy taste of her own cum slips past her tastebuds again, and Y/N had never been one to find it hot, but with the salty flavour transferring from Harry’s fingers and tongue, she’d never been more attracted to her own taste. 

Y/N desperately wants to mix his cum with hers, wants to swallow around his cock and feel the intoxicating mixture slide down her throat, “I wanna taste you now.” 

He breathes through his nose heavily and shakes his head, “just want to feel you. ‘M not gonna last long if you suck me off as well.” Y/N whines, but by the longing look Harry gives her pouting lips, it seems he’s not entirely content with his decision either. 

He reaches over her shoulder, digging into the set of drawers next to the bed, giving Y/N the perfect view of his broad chest, littered with tattoos. He looks so tan, his muscles rippling under the smooth skin, and she wants nothing more than to litter it with love bites and scratches. She teasingly licks at his nipple, and he startles, an uncharacteristic giggle leaving his lips as he comes back to lie in front of her, in his hand a condom. 

Suddenly his eyes clear, the lust caused fog fading, “you still okay with this? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

Her heart swells, how was it possible that this Adonis-like man was also so sweet? There was nothing she wanted more than to be with Harry in every way and right now, she needed him inside of her, “yes Harry. Do you?” 

He scoffs some, “fuck yes,” he mumbles his next statement as he tucks his head under her jaw, putting the condom on at the same time, “feel like my dicks gonna fall off, I’m that hard.” 

She laughs, wrapping her arms around him, she’d never felt so happy and complete, so overwhelmed. Every positive emotion was combining within her, creating a whirlwind of passion and love, causing each feeling to increase tenfold. 

The head of Harry’s cock slips through her folds, sending a zap of pleasure through her each time it nudges her clit, and he smirks each time she twitches, unconsciously arching up towards him. “Y’ ready?” 

She nods, moving her hips closer, making her own attempt to be filled by him. 

Slowly, Harry enters her, each inch causing the delicious burn from him stretching her walls increasing. Y/N almost chokes on her own moans, can hardly stand how good he feels or the way her muscles spasm attempting to adjust to the intrusion. It feels as if each ridge and curve was being simulated, each nerve ending firing again and making her head feel dizzy. 

Harry almost looks like he’s in pain with his eyes shut so tightly, Y/N can see the wrinkles surrounding them. His mouth is parted with sharp breaths entering and leaving his mouth, his head hung back, and his jawline sharp enough to cut glass. 

“Holy fuck. You feel so fucking good.” 

At the sound of his voice, Y/N clenches, making Harry cry out. “Move H. Fuck me, please.” 

He begins slowly, pulling out before slamming back into her, reaching so far Y/N can feel him in her tummy. 

He intertwines their fingers and holds them against the pillow her head rests on. She squeezes them, and he leans his forehead against hers, the tender action contradicting the harsh snaps of his hips. “How do you feel so good?” He whimpers. She nudges his chin with her nose, pushing his lips closer to hers, each thrust smearing them closer together. 

“You’re so good to me H,” she whispers back as she wraps one of her hands behind his head, his neck in the crook of her elbow. Using leverage from her other hand against the bed, she pushes her hips upwards, creating double the amount of friction between them. The actions causing both of them to cry out, Harry seeming to be pushed impossibly further inside of her, the head of him nudging against her cervix. 

“Fuck that’s it. Look at you, usin’ me to get yourself off.”

While the new angle felt so good, it was quickly tiring. Harry could see Y/N fatiguing after a few minutes, knowing the burn in her legs would be almost unbearable at this point. So he tucks his arms under her outstretched ones, laying his torso against hers and tucking his head into her neck, kissing lightly as he completely slows down his movements. He stops the whine that leaves her throat with a quick, “shh, it’s okay. Just wanna take my time with you, never want this to end.” 

While running her hand through his curls and holding the back of his neck closer to her chest, she replies, “me either baby.” 

They spend some time like this, just enjoying each other’s company and the feel of being so close to one another. Y/N breathes deeply, the smell of sex in the room mixing with Harry’s cologne, making her relax and let out a contented sigh. She had never felt more full and so satisfied, with a hint of an orgasm sparking between her hip bones, the dull ember just waiting to be fully ignited by his movements. 

As if sensing this, he speeds up once again. The burn that stretches through her legs as Harry pulls them over his shoulders, mixes with the pleasure of his thrusts, the head of his cock nudging her g-spot with each deep drive of his hips. 

Y/N cries out, grabbing at his shoulders, her nails unintentionally digging into the skin, creating small red crescents along the tense muscles connecting his neck to his scapula. 

He just feels so good. Every movement of his hips, each inhale and exhale, each brush of their lips and dig of his fingers brings Y/N even closer to her orgasm. She can’t tell if Harry plans each of these things with her pleasure in regard or if it’s the chemistry between them that’s causing every sensation to be felt tenfold. All she knows is that she would happily lie under Harry for the rest of her life if it meant she always felt this weightless. 

Harry’s balls make a sharp ‘thwack’ against her ass each time he thrusts, the sound of her arousal echoing through the room, in such a crude fashion, Y/N almost has time to feel embarrassed. On the other hand, Harry revels in the sound, loves the fact he can see, hear, touch every part of her arousal, surrounding them in their own cocoon of sex and pleasure. 

“C’mon Y/N, please. Cum on my cock.” While Y/N had already been feeling the building pressure of her impending orgasm, Harry’s words only work to bring it faster. “Please Y/N,” she bucks up against him, chasing the feeling of his pubic bone rubbing against her already sensitive clit. “Good girl. Fuck, you’re my good fucking girl, aren’t you?” She whines a response, the noise high pitched and hoarse. Harry sees Y/N’s desperate search for her finish, and brings two fingers down, rubbing at her clit. 

“Fuck, yes, Harry!” Y/N can’t describe how overwhelmed she is with pleasure and feeling. Her face feels flushed and sticky with sweat, her legs are slightly cramped from her constant strain to get closer to Harry and his cock buried in her cunt, and when Harry brings one of his ring adorned hands to wrap comfortably around her neck, suddenly Y/N feels weightless. She feels the burst of pleasure from between her legs, a zip running up her spine, leaving her limbs with a tingle. 

Harry hears her cum before he sees it, the moans dripping from her mouth, her eyes widening before she’s squeezing them tightly together. Harry knew he would play that exact moment on replay for the rest of his fucking life. 

He watches as she brings her hand up to his that’s still spread around her neck, and Harry almost can’t stand it when he feels her squeezing it tighter, begging for Harry to give her more. If he wasn’t so close to cumming, Harry might’ve teased her, loosened his grip on purpose to watch her squirm and whine, whisper in her ear how hot it was to see how desperate she was for Harry to simply touch her, alas he’s too close. Can barely form a coherent thought, let alone tease her. So instead he appeases her, tightens his grips and begins to pound into her harder, searching for his own release.

Finally, it comes, Harry releasing a deep groan, grabbing onto the pillow next to her head, letting out a deep moan. Both of them can feel each rope of cum, as Y/N’s own orgasm works to milk each drop from him. 

His movements slowly come to a stop, leaving him tucked inside of her as his length softens. Wrapping his arms around her once again, he revels in the warmth and comfort she brings, his lips pressing against hers gently. “Fuckin’ hell.” 

Y/N giggles and nods in agreement. How had they spent so long fighting when this was the result of them getting along. She still feels Harry shifting above her, the aftershocks of her orgasm, creating an increase in sensitivity, each movement from the handsome boy above her sending a jolt through her whole body. 

“Fuck you’re still squeezin’ me pet.” She hugs into him tighter as yet another twitch is brought from his prick still buried deep within her, “mhm, still sensitive but you feel so good.” 

He kisses her soft temple, “lucky for you, in about fifteen minutes, we can go again.” Y/N scoffs, her head leaving the crook of his neck to give him a dirty look only to be met with his deep smirk. His famous dimples indented next to his smile, as he giggles and brushes his nose against the swell of her cheek. 

“You really are…” his giggle is joined by her own. 

“A lecher,” they finish together.