#holy shit though no way half a year has passed. in my head it felt like a month or two maximum😭😭

[kalashnikovlobotomy]

Well Hello! Happy (late) New Year! And Happy (very late) Holidays!

Guess who is still alive?

You guessed it right!

Your humble rusrom addicted follower, from last summer, that has been dead for what now, more than half a year?

Yea well i have died, been buried and i crawled out of the depths of my grave out of spite and now i am back once again better (or worse you choose) than ever to nag you with rusrom ideas.

(Bonus points, now i am a russian language & literature student so my brain is literally working like a 1970's Romanian factory.)

Now that re-introductions are over and put aside. I have to say. It's great to see you again i hope you have been/ and that you're doing well. Also, i love how your artstyle has improved, the colors feel more vibrant than before and the outline is neater.

Oh, and Ro with Long, Floppy ears? SING ME UP, NOW, PLEASE!

I also just saw your concept of Russia forcing everyone to be the same, taking away all of the unique features. And I LOVE IT! Allow me to exapnd it with an idea. I believe he would go as far as teaching them to speak and act in a certain way too. Like, you know how in the commie times there were certain linguistic structures and movements to emphasize certain ideas, that needed to be used when you were delivering a speech? Yea, exactly but he would make everyone speak like that all the time, all day long.

(Side note. When i saw your Ro with long ears i though: "DAMN! He would rock long or intricately ornate earings").

And as a finishing touch. Have a cookie. because it's great to see you again!

🍪

Don't forget to take care of yourself!

🍪

HAPPY HOLIDAYS AS WELL🍪!! and congrats on the studies hell yeah. i swear i summoned you or something because literally last night i was looking through the general rusrom tag to see if it's still All Me (ofc) and i found the older asks and was wondering how you're doing😭😭 and thank youuu jehsjshjs im slowly creatureifying all of their designs. it's so fun i cant stop.

OH SHIT ur onto something honestly👹 i already like to think that like. the main if not only common language spoken in that house was his. bc "ohh well we all learn it and we all get along guys😊" (<-its actually so that he can understand/eavesdrop on as many conversations as possible) and "oh well if just two of you know one language then the others will feel alienated from your conversations... it's rude😊" (lying ass)... my lovely wife who is controlling as all hell🤦‍♂️...

ro with earrings would be pretty... i think it's funny if the nations have a really hard time with piercings because they just heal them without noticing. but he can keep them for a bit for fashion jehjhsj

[bloodpen-to-paper]

Met Gala 2023 Presented By Me

With this year's theme being "in honor of Karl Lagerfeld", a fashion designer whom I'm learning from the fashion community is "ew", lets see what we got:

~The Models~

-Rihanna being fashionably late, wearing an egg?-like top that opens to reveal a simple yet beautiful dress (she's got a baby bump!); the "no shit" was iconic honestly

-Jared Leto fursuit (its cause he was dressing as Lagerfeld's cat)

-Harvey Guillen coming through with a lovely floral suit, I'm not usually one for light pink but his was very pretty

-Who let Lil Nas X have access to the arts and crafts box (but he looked stunning, the mask was gorgeous and he's got more confidence than most to pull off what I'm now calling a Full Bedazzle)

-Kristen Stewart going full butch queer, the eyebrows and hair were rugged inspired and most didn't like it but I think that was the point?

-Pedro Pascal and his knee against the world (as well as spreading the red is superior agenda cause it is)

-^ but with Salma Hayek cause holy shit this is the red agenda

-Bryan Tyree Henry continuing to remind me how much my taste in men has improved over the years because he is so fucking fine ANYWAY-

-Lizzo giving me feminine gender envy despite the odds

-Janelle Monae doing a Janelle Monae as is customary (I'd love to know what the inspo was for her if so let me know!)

-Bella Ramsey you are so gender thank you (and they served too, the Thom Browne suit with the white accents is simple yet very classy)

-Every year I give one (1) free pass for a man to wear a standard suit, this year goes to Ke Huy Quan because I couldn't say anything bad about him if I tried (at least he had some style, the fingerless gloves were cool)

-Obligatory Gwendoline Christie was there and existed comment by me because I am in love and I am not ashamed of it

-Florence Pugh's fit had mixed reactions, the shaved head, headdress and white dress look were really good but I think the way the dress came out had people not fully digging it, I can understand but I'll appreciate it nonetheless

-Anne Hathaway in all her fuzzy glory (the hair's a beehive on a very felted dress but like it worked? marks for originality and being able to pull it off)

-Loved Stephanie Hsu's bedazzled suit, won't be able to stop thinking about it actually

-Tems was stunning, I'm a huge fan of the floating leaves design we need more nature-inspired looks

-Olivier Rousteing and Jeremy pope slaying with their "Karl who?" and cape apparel

-Gotta shout out Yara Shahidi for going with something unique, the pearl's color palette works surprisingly better than I expected with the gold (personally I would have more gold trim in the top half but that's just me)

-Let Lady Gaga's outfit for the Met Gala this year be a lesson in misinformation because the pictures circulating Tumblr are not in fact from the 2023 Met, she didn't attend (it is a stunning outfit though)

-Jenna Ortega looking almost like a dapper pirate in the absolute best way possible the gender envy the style I am going insane

-Doja Cat living up to her name (Cats should take notes honestly the makeup was really good. She also kept answering reporter questions by meowing. Because she's Doja. Anyway.)

-Anok Yai's dress reminds me of those ornate beaded lampshades, I wonder if that's where she/her designer got the idea

-Emily Blunt giving me gay panic once again WHY IS SHE SO GORGEOUS (she's got a giant fucking bow tie that's what clowns wear why is she able to pull it off this is so unfair)

-Conan Gray looked like an actual prince I am obsessed

-I saw someone said Cardi B was giving goth Barbie and that is honestly the best way to describe it

-Yung Miami having a beautiful look cause her outfit was underrated this year

-I thought Emily Blunt and Bryan Tyree Henry were all I had to worry about and then Julia Garner came in with a steel chair

-Ella Fanning's look captivating me specifically

-And cause I can't comment on every person or we'd be here all day, go check out the underrated outfits from Amanda Seyfried, Alton Mason, Glenn Close, Sora Choi, Ava Max, Jessica Chastain, Taika Waititi and many more!

~Final Thoughts~

-The palette this year was very black and white... literally. Lots of outfits in black, white, or both. I'm not really into the fashion community so I wouldn't know but I'm guessing its a signature theme of Lagerfeld's? Let me know! I'm always down to learn more about other communities and their history

-I'm also assuming Lagefeld's got a thing for flowers cause there were a lot of flowers imbedded into the outfits, they looked lovely~

-As well as long flowy dress/coat tops cause there were a lot, and I loved how people mixed it in with the flowers. Lots of the men did it this year and it looked fantastic

-Speaking of, I'm proud of the men for actually dressing up this year omfg its insane how many male celebrities will go to a literal fashion event and pull up with nothing but a plain ass suit and though most of them this year did wear suits, there was much pizazz. Like, actual life put into those outfits. So yeah, you love to see it

-Overall, a very nice Met Gala. The crazy stuff came from the usual people who go all out, and we got plenty of highlights from people who embraced the theme, with the occasional unique look to really stick it out

Thank for reading and see you all next fashion event!

[theautisticbarbie]

A Bird of Praise

Act I

Chapter IV: The Mirror Realm

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Word Count: 1975 (again I swear I’m not doing this. It’s all coincidence, I believe this was the year that Hawkins Lab first got caught being a sussy baka 😂)

Chapter warnings: Canon character death (Barb again), mentions of MK Ultra, supernatural monsters

Chapter summary: Tara and the gang find themselves in a sinister alternate dimension and discover an insidious truth about their idyllic sleepy town that changes the course of Tara’s very identity. Daniel learns something about Barb in her final moments that he will have to live with for the rest of his life.

Daniel ran in pursuit of his family, calling out for them when something tripped him.

“Shit,” he muttered, rubbing his head.

He looked to see what he had tripped over to see Barb just barely clinging to life.

“Barb!” he gasped, picking her up. “Shit… Barb!”

“Help me…” she said weakly, blood oozing from her sinuses. “Can’t… breathe…”

Daniel knew those purple cheeks anywhere. They only happened from prolonged exposure to poison gas.

“I can’t see… I can’t feel my legs…” she said weakly.

“Barb, stay with me! I’m gonna get you out of here, okay!”

“Daniel… is that you?”

“Yeah! It’s me! I’m gonna get you out of here!”

“That letter…”

“Huh?”

“The love letter… The one that you thought was from Chrissy Cunningham… and then Jason Carver beat the shit out of you… I wrote it… I forged Chrissy’s name because I was too chickenshit to tell you how I felt… the way you always looked at her… I wanted you to look at me like that…”

Daniel picked her up and began dragging her. “It’s fine! I’m gonna get you home!”

Daniel continued to drag her to the point where he came in, only to whack his head against it when he tried to cross to the other side.

Daniel turned around to feel for the entrance and noticed it was gone.

“Shit!” he muttered through clenched teeth.

When he went to tend to Barb again, he felt her face and noticed that she had stopped breathing.

“Shit… no no no no no… No! Barb!”

Daniel desperately began chest compressions.

“Come on Barb! Wake up! Please!”

It was no use.

She was gone.

Daniel held her face and cried.

After he collected himself, he stood up and continued the pursuit for the three living people he came here with.

Gabby and Sam were being dragged by vines towards what anyone could infer would be certain demise.

Suddenly, though, the vines were ripped off of them both.

Tara was standing there with her arm outstretched, hand open and fingers extended forward. Blood oozed down her upper lip.

The vines snapped backwards and were hurled away by whatever invisible force Tara was using.

Once the danger passed, Tara fell to her knees and groaned.

“Holy shit!,” Sam remarked.

“We’re trapped,” Daniel said, catching up.

“Sooo,” Sam started. “You have psychic powers. That’s cool. How long has that been a thing exactly?”

“You used your powers?” Daniel asked angrily.

“Was I supposed to just let whatever is down here just kill them?” Tara asked defensively.

“Tara! How many times do I have to keep telling you? Keep your powers private!”

“I do! But this was life or death and Sam and Gabby are family!”

Daniel let out a heavy sigh. “We have to find a way out of here… wherever ‘here’ is, anyway.”

“Okay, I’ll ask again,” Sam pressed, not letting it go. “How long have the psychic powers been a thing?”

“Since I got my first period. I got really bad headaches and a week or so later, I had psychic powers.”

“Oh, right on. So you’re like Carrie.”

Tara pondered. “I suppose that would be the most appropriate approximation.”

“I hope you don’t burn your school down,” Sam said, only half joking in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“I don’t think my powers are that grandiose…”

Beat.

“And if we’re being perfectly honest, I don’t exactly have control over them.”

Tara took another look around in the awkward silence.

“Guys, I don’t think La Llorona is the one doing this,” she finally said.

“Right,” Daniel remarked. “Excuse me for one moment.”

Daniel turned around and screamed at the top of his lungs into the darkness. “That’s better,” he said turning back around. “Anyway, why are you like this?”

“Don’t yell at me! I never meant for any of this to happen!”

“Oh okay! I guess we can just ignore the fact that we’re trapped in god knows where or what!”

“Guys!” Gabby interjected. “We’ll NEVER get out of here if we fight and argue!”

“Maybe we died and this is hell…” Daniel said after a long pause.

“No… this isn’t hell…” Tara said just as something caught her eye.

It was Castle Byers, but it was covered in webbing and monster slime and other such things.

“This must be the Mirror Realm.” she said approaching it.

“The Mirror Realm?” Sam asked in confusion.

“It’s from ‘The Snow Queen’,” Daniel said, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

Suddenly something reached out and grabbed her ankle causing her to gasp in shock.

She reflexively looked down to see Will grabbing her ankle.

“Will?” She asked immediately bending down.

“Help…” he cried weakly.

“Will!” Tara hugged him crying. “It’s okay! It’s okay! You’re safe now! I’ve got you! I’ve got you.”

“I’m so cold and scared.”

“I know! I know! But we’re gonna get you back home where it’s nice and warm!”

Will cried in Tara’s arms as she soothingly rocked him back and forth.

“Can you stand?” Tara asked after they both calmed down.

“No…”

“It’s okay. I’ll carry you.”

Tara struggled.

“Here,” Daniel interjected, kneeling down, back facing Will. “Climb on, little man.”

Will piggybacked onto Daniel’s back and was hoisted up.

“Shit,” Daniel said, catching his breath. “You got heavy.”

Daniel took a deep breath and refocused his attention. “Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The party got barely got a few paces in when things took a hard left turn.

“So, you know that Tara has psychic powers?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Daniel confirmed. “When she came back home from the hospital, we got into an argument and I found myself being hoisted 10 feet into the air.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. Mom doesn’t know, though, and maybe we should keep it that way,” he said talking in Tara’s direction.

“It’s news to me, too,” Gabby finally said.

“Did you know about this place?” Sam asked.

“I didn’t even know about it until just now,” Tara interjected. “Well, I had dreams about it when Will first went missing, but I didn’t know it was real until we were dragged here.”

“Gotcha,” Sam said, trying his best to follow along.

Suddenly, the party heard growling.

“What was that?” Gabby asked, panicked.

Whack.

A blur knocked Daniel over, knocking Will off of his back and onto the ground.

“Will!” Tara called, running to his aid.

Before she could reach him, though, a vine dragged him back into the fort.

The four chased after him when the very monster from before jumped in front of it, opening its flower-like face.

“Is that the Snow Queen?” Sam asked.

“Do you see any snow?” Gabby quipped.

“No,” Tara shook her head. “If this is the mirror realm, then that must be a troll.”

The “troll” roared and hissed before charging at the party.

Tara stepped forward and threw out her hand, hurling all of the psychic energy at it that she could muster.

And that was it. The fact that Tara had only been sleeping 2-3 hours a night for the past week, the constant state of panic and anxiety and the fact that she hadn’t eaten all day finally caught up to her and everything went to black.

By the time Tara came to, she was on Sam’s back and he had been carrying her for however long she had been out. She lifted her head and took in her surroundings, running her fingers over her upper lip to see blood.

“You’re up,” Sam observed.

“How long was I out?”

“Not long.”

“What about the troll?”

“Well, I took a guess that if it was a troll, it must not like fire. Lucky for us, I still had my lighter on me AND I was right. It also helped that you hurt it pretty badly with those bad ass psychic powers that we’re just now finding out about!”

“Where’s Will?” Tara asked, noticing that Daniel was no longer carrying him.

“We had to leave him,” Daniel said stoically.

“WHAT?”

“As badly as you hurt that thing, it was still pretty adamant about keeping Will inside of his fort and away from anyone who might help him. We had to use that to our advantage to get away,” Gabby explained.

“We can’t just leave him!” Tara pleaded.

“Tara, you can barely stand! We have to regroup and come back to this!” Daniel retorted.

“There might not be time for that!”

“Look, Tara, Will has been there for the past week! If that creature wanted to kill him, it would have by now. We can take some time to get the hell out of here, regroup and come back for him.”

“Pinky swear?” Tara asked, holding out her pinky.

“We’ll come back,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Why won’t you pinky swear it, then?”

“Because that’s stupid and we’re not five anymore…” Daniel’s voice trailed off as he saw a giant gated building that definitely did not match the rest of Hawkins.

Tara’s head sprung up. “There’s a way out. In there.”

“In the Electricity Department?” Daniel asked, trying to clarify.

“Yeah. I can feel it.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Gabby said, moving to hop the fence.

Daniel noticed a giant gaping hole in said fence, perhaps that the troll had created. Upon closer inspection, the tear pointed outward, meaning the troll got outside with this hole. Not inside. This must be where the troll first came from.

“Hello!” Daniel said, gesturing to said hole.

“Oh!” Gabby exclaimed climbing back down.

The four went through the hole with practically no effort thanks to its size.

When they entered the building, that feeling that Tara had grew stronger.

“It’s down that hall.”

“You’re the boss,” Sam said.

The party went down the hall to an industrial sized elevator.

Daniel put an ear to the door. “It’s not working,” he said flatly.

“How do you know that, mijo?” Sam asked.

“There’s a hum that elevators make when they’re working and this one is totally dead silent.”

“Now that you mention it,” Gabby started, “this place seems totally pitch black.”

“So we’ll find the power, turn it on and get this bad boy up and running,” Sam said, opening the first door in sight.

The party went room to room trying to find something to turn the power back on.

One room, however, had Sam glance at something VERY interesting.

It was a bulletin board with a ton of newspaper cutouts. A few words, quotes and headlines caught his attention.

“Terry Ives Suing”

“They stole my baby!”

“MK Ultra”

On the desk was a list of names. One stood out to Sam immediately.

Eleanor Newman.

Upon further inspection, he noticed that the name “Terry Ives” was on there as well.

One thing was very clear. They were all seeing things that were not meant for their eyes and knowing things that someone likely put in effort to ensure they wouldn’t know.

Of more immediate importance, though, he noticed through his peripheral vision that Tara’s eyes were closed.

“You still with us kiddo?” he asked.

Ding.

Tara opened her eyes and blood dripped out of her nose into Sam’s shirt.

The elevator opened.

The four went inside and Tara once again used her powers to close the elevator and take them where they needed to go.

“Down that way,” Tara weakly pointed.

They went passing by rooms until Tara spoke again.

“Stop. Here.”

Daniel opened the door to what he could only assume was a room for nuclear testing, but what in the world was a sensory deprivation tank doing in it?

“There it is,” Tara said, snapping Daniel out of his thoughts.

There it was. Clear as day. The way out.

The four passed through the opening and were immediately met with drawn guns demanding that they put their hands up.

[elysianslove]

please use this ask to elaborate on mattsun’s dick <33

AH YES THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING gotta do this before i start fasting lmfao.  this ended up being sadder than i thought, but it just ends up being kinda sweet and sorta hot. also this was way longer than i intended. post in reference.  

warnings; big dick mattsun, throwing up, pain kink (?), painful sex, insecurities, consensual taping  

okay remember when i mentioned the insecurity thing? let’s dive deeper into that; third years and mattsun are at some sleepover thing. it’s a little before graduation, and they don’t when they’ll see each other next, so they’re trying to make most of the time that’s left. the conversation progresses to sex, as it naturally does, and each of them admits some horrifying or embarrassing sex story. 

iwaizumi had sex with a girl who was extremely kinky and asked him to slap her, but— they don’t call him ace for no reason. 

oikawa lost his virginity to this girl and she started her period halfway through, but he was really young and didn’t realize that was something that could just happen? it wasn’t that he was immature about it. it was more that he fainted. 

hanamaki found out he was allergic to flavored condoms when he lost his virginity, and it was not fun. 

but then it was mattsun’s turn, and they’re all waiting for his embarrassing sex story, till he hits them with, “i’ve never had sex though,” and each and every one of their eyes bulge out of their heads. it’s the last thing they’d been expecting from him, from cool, suave, charming mattsun, but he continues to swear by it. and when they demand the reason — surely you’ve gotten the chance to before? — he admits it to them: “apparently my dick is too big.” and it’s comical to say out loud, because he’s only gotten with a handful of girls, barely any for it to be firm hypothesis. he thinks he’ll one day meet someone that doesn’t think it’s too big, it won’t fit, um i can give you a handjob, if that’s okay? 

all that evidently leads to a dick comparison, because how big can it really be? and once mattsun sees his best friends’ eyes widen at his hardened dick, it sinks in. shit, he really is big, isn’t he? 

“holy shit, mattsun,” makki says, and he’s bashful as he stares at his best friend’s dick. “how would that fit inside anyone?” and mattsun’s already growing soft, tucking his dick back in his pants and moving to wash his hands after kicking makki rightfully in the chest. 

college comes around, and he passes by a thousand girls crying about how the boy from last night’s dick was so small, ugh i wish i had an 8 inch, and the things i’d do to have my guts rearranged. he sees a little light in this tunnel of endless blue balling, and meets a girl, takes her back to his dorm with his lips biting at her neck and her hands fumbling with his belt. as soon as he falls onto the bed, as soon as she straddles him, naked, and moves to slip off his trousers, anxiety meets him halfway again, and he holds in a breath as she pulls at the hem of his pants and takes his boxers with her.

the gasp his half hardening cock pulls out of her is confusing. he can’t tell what to make out of it, but she spits on her palm and grips his hefty cock in her small palm, unable to have her fingertips meet. her eyes are wide, but she seems determined, even tilts her hips forward, but she resorts to, “can i just suck you off?” 

and mattsun thinks alright, that’s an upgrade. 

when she ends up throwing up because she underestimates his size and overestimates herself, mattsun offers her his bathroom to clean up, and grabs her a bottle of water as she leaves. 

he ends up losing his virginity to some masochist, and it’s not very memorable or anything he’d ever imagined it be. it sits high on his list of regrets: he cums way too early, and hurts the masochist too much for it to be enjoyable in any way. but he texts the old third year groupchat and types in “i lost my virginity 😎” and receives the praise he had expected. 

for months to come, he fucks his fist every other night to amateur porn and watches as some camgirls’ cunts swallow inches and inches of plastic cock. he hooks up with some girls only to have them sit on his face and kitten lick at the head of his cock. some swallow a little bit of his cock, some fondle at his balls, but none ever let him fuck them. oikawa sends him links for sex toys, and mattsun feels as pathetic as ever, but he buys a fleshlight anyways and finds purchase in how tight it feels around his cock, how wet and slippery it is, how it properly milks him dry. makki meets him during a break and offers to suck his dick for him, but mattsun flips him off and kicks at his stomach again. 

it’s during his third year that he meets you. 

you’re sweet and charming, , and you have pretty hair, and he likes your style, and you laugh at his stupid jokes. you call him handsome, and you call him pretty, and you compliment his hair when it’s at its curliest. you send him the weirdest memes and tell him it reminds you of him, and you pick him up at obscure times because you’re craving nuggets or ice cream or ramen or licorice. he asks you to be his girlfriend and when you say yes, he blushes so forcefully that he has to scrunch up his face to try and hide it. he lets you meet his friends through a screen, and he buys you matching rings because he enjoys the subtlety of it all, and he orders donuts to be sent to your place  during your exam week. 

being with you is a dream, so much that when he hovers above you, kissing at your lips like he always does and sucking at your neck the way you love, and you murmur that you want him, want all of him, his hands fumble and shake. he tries to hide it, but his breath is shakier and his chest is flushed, his eyes a little hazy. you’re so gentle with him, and he hadn’t known he needed it until you’re straddling him and slowly smoothing your hands down his chest, palming him through his too tight briefs, squeezing softly. 

when your hands reach for his briefs, his own snap to your wrist, and he dares to beg, “please stay,” and you kiss him in response. your breath hitches at the sight of him, and your hand shakes when you spit on it and grip at his cock, but despite your initial hesitance you don’t falter. 

you stroke tentatively at his cock, squeezing him tightly, and fall closer to him, hovering your lips by his as you ask of him, “stretch me— stretch me for you.” 

there’s only one word to describe everything mattsun had been feeling in that moment, and it’s overwhelmed, but it’s somehow in the most positive way. he sits up straight, keeping you on his lap. his fingers find your dripping cunt and he pushes one, two, three, four fingers inside of you. he makes you cum twice, fingers curled and rapidly thrusting into you, other hand occupied with your sloppy clit and mouth latched onto your nipple. you praise him and thank him and cry for him and writhe in his hold as he pleasures you, and when you’re breathless and limp in his arms, he waits for the ball to drop, for you to give into your anxiety and hesitance. 

except you don’t. 

you lift yourself up on trembling knees, hands settled on and gripping his shoulders, and with teary eyes, you say, no, you beg, “make it fit.” 

he has stars in his eyes as he grips his cock tightly with one hand, the other holding you to him by your waist. it’s slow, it’s painfully slow, but mattsun has never treasured time as much as in that moment. he takes in everything, from the way your body tenses at the first intrusion when his tip presses against your hole, to the small gasps and moans as you take more and more of him in, at the sweat that beads at your temple and that rolls between your breasts. he marvels at the heave of your chest and the roll of your tummy as you curve in yourself, and he revels in the press of your lips to his, in the pull your arms looping around his neck and pressing his chest flush to yours. 

he does cum too early, but you don’t chastise him. you only continue to ride his soft cock, his cum messily dribbling out, and he ignores the sting from his sensitivity in favor of rubbing at your clit, sending you over the edge eventually. 

he texts the old third years groupchat that night again, with you sleeping soundly by his side, comfortable beneath his blankets, “why didn’t you guys tell me sex was this good? fake friends,” and sends a picture of him shirtless, sweaty, and with a post-sex flush to his cheeks and messy curls, with the middle finger. 

maybe you shouldn’t have let him have a taste of you, because he fucks you in bed the next morning, sleep still settled deep in your bones, and then he fucks you in the shower, and then he eats you out splayed out on his dinner table. he videotapes you sucking him off, with your permission, and watches it when you’re too far out of reach. he sends you pictures after a shower, gripping his cock through the briefs he’d quickly slipped in, hair wet and curly and matted to his forehead, skin damp and glistening. and when you react so positively, he blushes, to his dismay. you meet his friends and they joke about how you’re still alive, but you brush them off and tell them you’ve never felt more satisfied. 

with every single time he watches his cock sink into your warm, tight, sloppy cunt, and every time he watches you swallow around him, and every time he makes you cry and leaves you braindead, leaves you mindless and begging for more, his confidence grows. so much until he learns to be cocky about it, so much that when he barely preps you and pushes into you, he shivers at the way you whine and tense up, at the way you flinch and lightly thrash. because you’re a good girl, aren’t you? always take my cock so well, don’t you? nobody but you, nobody like you. 

and it’s true; it’s nobody but you for him. in every single way.

hello what the fuck am i doing. i did not think this was gonna escalate like this hfskjfns but anyways, big dick mattsun for the win <3 

[rodr1cks]

Heather Hills | 2.5k

part two

neighbor trope where you’re in love with Rodrick but he can’t stop pining after Heather Hills, takes place during Dog Days

warnings: noncon touching (our ass gets grabbed), swearing, smut, heather is a huge bitch

Tonight was the night. You picked out a black silk dress that hugged your body perfectly. You looked... nice? Nicer than usual, at least.

Still, your mood was melancholy, you weren’t too excited to watch Rodrick drool over Heather all night. Despite this, you put on a smile and met Rodrick outside.

His band members, Rowley, and Greg were crowded together in the back. They always left the passenger seat to you, such gentlemen. As soon as you opened the door you were bombarded with wolf whistles and crude remarks from his cronies. “Rodrick if you don’t tap that I will!” The guitarist exclaimed while eyeing you up and down.

“Guys, guys stop, please,” Rodrick seemed a little unnerved by the banter. After that, the van was silent all the way to the party.

Upon arrival, you began to unpack the van, unloading equipment. “Hey, hey, hey, pretty girl like you doesn’t need to do the heavy lifting,” the guitarist said to you as he winked. He always went out of his way to make you uncomfortable. You laughed a bit to appease him, then walked away.

Gross.

The band was set up and Rodrick was clearly nervous.

“You don’t understand, y/n. This has to be perfect.”

You knew the importance of this going well but you couldn’t decide if you wanted it to. On one hand, he could get Heather Hills, the girl of his dreams. On the other hand, he’d be crushed. Poor Rodrick has already taken enough beatings from the girls at your school.

“I know, you’ll be great, though,” you were unsure of that statement.

“You always know what to say.”

He walked away, ready to start the set of a lifetime.

The guitarist approached you again. “Wish me luck sexy,” he whispered and smacked your ass playfully. You gasped, tears threatening to form in your eyes.

Just brush it off, you’re okay. You need to enjoy the show.

You tried not to think about his pathetic little mustache and the giant pimple that sat squarely between his eyebrows.

Why did Rodrick hang out with such scum?

The first notes of the song rang through the tent. Rodrick was… singing? Heather Hills did not look amused. Panicking, Rodrick signaled to Greg, “FULL DIAPER!”

Dear god.

Banners unfurled and cannons sounded. It was a complete disaster. Somehow the chocolate fountain went haywire and coated half the crowd with liquid chocolate, including Heather. Shit. Rodrick was done for.

Everybody pitched in with loading the van and you were out of there in no time. You feared Heather would’ve killed the lot of you if you lingered any longer. Greg and Rowley were the only passengers this time. You and Rodrick were in the front seat, not speaking.

“Rodrick, can I tell you something?”

You knew Greg and Rowley were caught up in their own conversation but you didn’t want to risk them overhearing, so you whispered. Rodrick nodded.

“Your guitarist, h-he uhm, he kind of touched me before your set.” Rodrick’s eyes widened. “Where?” he asked you sternly. “He kind of grabbed my ass.” You looked down, embarrassed. “Great, now Heather hates me and I’m short a guitarist.”

On the way back to Rodrick’s, you passed a gas station and you asked him to pull over.

“Rodrick let me out at this gas station, pretty please!”

He groaned and pulled into the lot. You ran in and made a beeline for the fridges in the back.

Where is it, where is it, ah!

Mint chip and cookie dough, both your favorites. You checked out and ran back to the van. Rodrick looked over, delighted when he saw your purchases. “He ruffled your hair and muttered a thank you. You smiled, “And that’s not all,” you pulled out two candy bars for the chocolate coated fugitives in the back.

Rodrick parked on the street in front of The Heffley household.

“Alright, everybody out!”

Greg and Rowley filed out as did you. Rodrick stayed put. “Aren’t you coming?” He nodded at you, “I have something to take care of first. Put the ice cream in the freezer and take a shower. Get that chocolate off of you.” He gestured at your hair and face which were coated in chocolate.

What could he need to do right now? Probably off to find Heather Hills and beg for her highness’ forgiveness.

You did as he said and borrowed his shower for a bit. You felt instant relief as the warm water trickled down your shoulders, chocolate melting away along with your stress. After your shower, you grabbed one of Rodrick’s t-shirts.

Lending you a shirt was the least he could do, considering the hell he’d put you through.

What a fucking night it’s been.

You sat around for a bit, awaiting Rodrick’s return. You heard the door swing open downstairs. He walked up the stairs to his room, ice cream pints in hand. You smiled at him before your gaze lingered down to his knuckles.

“Holy shit, Rodrick. What the fuck did you do?”

He looked down, “Well you told me what my guitarist did to you and I- I couldn’t help it. He needed to know what he did was out of line.”

Your jaw dropped, “So you what? Broke his nose?” He rolled his eyes at your theatrics, “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” Had Rodrick really beat somebody up for you?

“So are we gonna eat this ice cream or what?”

You both sat on Rodricks couch, limbs entangled, eating your ice cream. He looked over at you, “Switch?” You shrugged, passing him your mint chip and grabbing his cookie dough. For the next half hour, you both sat in silence, processing the night’s events.

“Hey, I’m sorry about Heather.”

“Y’know, y/n, I realized something while I was performing. Heather Hills wasn’t by the stage cheering me on, Heather Hills doesn’t go out of her way to be kind to my family, Heather Hills wouldn’t look that good that tiny black bikini of yours,” Rodrick smirked, “and most importantly, Heather Hills didn’t buy me my favorite ice cream to make me feel better. Heather Hills doesn’t care for me like you do.”

You weren’t really processing everything. Was he hitting on you? Or flirting or… He cut your thoughts short by grabbing your waist and pulling you on top of him. “Woah what are you-“ He shushed you and grabbed your ice cream from your hand, setting it on the table.

Rodrick grabbed your hands, halting your mindless fiddling. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize how good you are to me earlier, y/n. I know that probably made you feel like dog shit.”

You let out a choked laugh. “Yeah, it did. But, you know now?” He placed one of his large hands on your cheek, using his thumb to stroke your face gently, “Yeah, pretty girl, I do.”

Pretty girl. Your stomach churned and your face turned bright red. Rodrick leaned in slowly and gently kissed you. His lips felt heavenly, they were soft and warm and better than you could’ve imagined. “God I’ve wanted to sink my teeth into you ever since I saw you in that little bathing suit.”

His voice was low and guttural, nothing like you’d heard before. This was a new Rodrick and you had no idea how to react, all you could do was sit there and stutter helplessly.

You could melt. Was this really happening? You had to check.

“Is this really happening?”

You felt him smile. He licked a stripe from your collarbone to your jaw, “You tell me.” You moaned quietly as his grasp on your waist tightened.

“How long have you wanted this, y/n? Wanted me?”

Your stomach clenched at his words, might as well tell the truth. “Since sophomore year. I-I went to one of your gigs and you didn’t see me” His hand moved to your breast and you sucked in a breath. “You looked so good on stage, I knew I wanted your hands all over me,” you managed to gasp out.

“I knew you were there,” he said matter-of-factly. You froze. “I told my mom, part of why she likes you so much, thinks you’re supportive of me or something.”

Is he serious, this is humiliating.

“I remember what you were wearing, too. A little red dress, you stood out. Never knew the neighbor girl cleaned up so nice until that night.”

He must’ve sensed your embarrassment, “Hey, it’s okay, no need to be shy.” You eased up a little bit, your hands finding his hair and gently pulling. “Atta girl.”

As things got more heated, he got more eager. At one point he looked up at you, silently asking for permission to remove your shirt. You nodded, laughing at him, “A gentleman, I see.” He made stern eye contact with you,

“I don’t have to be.”

He tore your (his) shirt over your head and stopped when he found you were wearing nothing underneath.

“Naughty, naughty girl.”

You wanted his shirt off too, along with everything else. You wanted to see him, feel him. You made quick work of removing his t-shirt and discarding it on the floor behind you.

You could feel his hard on through your panties and it was driving you insane. “Rodrick,” you panted, “I need you, please.”

The hand he was using to roll your nipple between his fingers moved to your clit and rubbed gentle circles over it. “Since you asked so nicely,” he grinned.

Your hand flew on top of his and he winced. “Oh shit, right, your hand! I’m so so-,” he flipped you onto your back and stood up from the couch. Your stomach dropped before you understood what he was doing. He fought with his belt for a moment before pulling it off and sliding his jeans and boxers off.

Christ he’s big.

He resumed his position on the couch and began stroking his cock while hovering above you. He leaned down to kiss your collar bone sweetly.

You muttered one last plea before he positioned himself in front of you.

“Are you ready for me, pretty girl?”

God there he goes again.

You arched your back up in response, letting out a small sigh of desperation. This was all so new, you had no idea Rodrick could be so… well spoken?

Rodrick took a deep breath as he bottomed out. The air was knocked out of your lungs. Fucking Christ. He split you in half with ease, groaning as he rolled his hips against you.

“R-Rodrick?” He muttered something indistinct in response. “Is this your first time?” He looked kind of embarrassed. “Yeah, uh, it is, yes.” Part of you was happy it was his first time. The other part of you felt bad for him. You knew that if girls would’ve just given him a chance, they’d see how incredible he was-

You were torn from your thoughts by Rodrick pulling out and slamming back into your willing body. You nearly screamed. He continued at an absolutely brutal pace.

“Jesus christ, Rodrick, never knew you could do this,” you gasped out, eyes rolling back.

He smirked down at you before pulling out, grabbing your hips, and flipping you over onto your hands and knees. Your head was pressed sideways against the arm of the couch but you didn’t care. Rodrick quickly got back to work, fucking you to the beginnings of your orgasm.

“Rodrick, I’m gonna-“ He grabbed your hair and yanked hard so your back was against his chest,

“Cum on my cock.”

That was all it took, you were gone, shaking and pulsing around him.

After a few more strokes, Rodrick was gone, too. He was grabbing your ass and grinding his hips against you as he finished.

Gently, he pulled out. He rubbed a hand over your ass and admired your raw, red skin.

You rolled back over, panting. “My god, y/n, how did I live without this for so long?” You smiled lazily at the ceiling. He kissed you, clearly spent. You both sat on his couch, heavy panting filling the room.

Rodrick looked over at you, “Ice cream?” He stuck the cup filled with melted sludge in your direction. You put your hand up in protest, “No thank you.” He shrugged, “More for me.” Roderick slurped the melted treat from his spoon. You couldn’t help but laugh at him.

God, Heather would despise this man.

“You know Heather slapped Rowley, right?”

“What? no way?” Rodrick laughed.

“She sure did. Don’t worry though, Rowley got to eat chocolate off of Madison.”

You both spent a moment laughing to yourselves.

You were absolutely satisfied, you could’ve fallen asleep right then and there, on Rodrick’s ratty couch.

“Let’s get you to bed y/n.”

“But I don’t wanna go home, Rodrick!” You whined.

“Who said anything about you going home?”

“Y/n, Mom’s at a writing seminar with Manny and Dad’s at some civil war retreat thing.”

Was he inviting you to stay the night? “Call your mom, tell her you’re with your friend… uh… Heather.”

Giggling, you did just that. “Wait a minute, your parents left you alone with Greg?” He swatted at you playfully, giving you a goofy glare.

Rodrick stood up and offered out his hand. You decided to be cocky and deny his help. In your attempt to stand up, you stumbled, nearly eating shit.

“Woah, woah, easy there tiger,” Rodrick said snarkily, grabbing your waist before you hit the ground. You hadn’t expected to be so unstable.

“Alright, do you want my shirt back, gorgeous?” You nodded sleepily.

He grabbed the previously discarded shirt from the ground and slipped it over your head. He then pushed your hair out of your face and placed a gentle kiss onto your forehead.

Rodrick led you over to his bed. It was a twin but you guys would make it work.

He disappeared for a moment and came back with a rag. “C’mere sweetheart. You turned to face him slowly as he sat down on the bed. He began tenderly wiping between your thighs.

“Look at you, so beautiful,” he mused. Out of instinct, you looked away from him. “I mean it, y/n.”

He climbed into bed with you, his lanky limbs making comfort difficult.

“There we go,” he sighed after you both finally found a comfortable position. You closed your eyes and Rodrick began tracing lines over your lightly clothed back. You could hear the summer rain pattering against his window and you sighed out, completely satisfied.

Nearly asleep, you noticed something in the corner of Rodrick’s room. His black and white one star’s with tire marks plastered over them. You rolled your eyes and laughed to yourself.

Heather fucking Hills.

+ literally don’t even speak to me about the grammar or the poorly written smut. act like you do not see it ty. and please send me rq’s!!

[sunflowervolvimp3]

changes (best friend!harry)

Warnings: language, nsfw content, drugs (marijuana) and alcohol

Pairing: best friend!Harry x reader

Word Count: 17k (holy shit)

A/N: So this started as two requests I had in my inbox that I got way too into and then it became this. this may be the longest stand-alone fic I’ve ever written, and it, like watermelon sugar, is dedicated to touching!!!! I spent so long on this so as always. feedback is appreciated. and if you like it, please reblog it!!! reblogging is the best way to show fic writers your appreciation <3

{masterlist}

Unless she’s reminded otherwise, Y/N always thinks of herself as a teenager.

This, of course, isn’t true. She turned twenty-six a month ago, works as a media producer for an online clothing company, and lives alone in a one bedroom apartment in London.  However, unless she physically has something in front of her to remind her of her real age and the passing of time, Y/N disregards this information.

Usually, the reminder is a bill in the mail, or a phone call to remind her that she needs to book an appointment with her doctor.  Usually, the reminder is an ache in her back, her glasses prescription getting worse, or realizing that she has no idea what her teenage cousins are talking about when she sees them at Christmas.  Usually, the reminder is enough to give her pause, but not enough to throw her for a loop.

This time, however, the reminder is her childhood best friend naked in her bathroom.

Y/N and Harry had been friends since they were in primary school, after Y/N had moved to London with her mother.  Their new house just happened to be next to Harry’s, and Anne and Y/N’s mother had quickly hit it off.  Anne had been quick to volunteer her son to be Y/N’s tour guide at school, and despite not being enthusiastic about each other in the beginning, the two began to grow closer by the end of Y/N’s first week there.  Within a month, the two were inseparable, and that didn’t change as they entered their teen years, started secondary school, and Harry left London to become a member of the most famous boyband in the world.  Just typical teen things.

However, despite their distance, Y/N and Harry had remained as close as ever.  They constantly texted, called, and video chatted with each other, and Y/N even joined Harry on tour a few times (with permission from her mother).  Although both of them had been worried when Harry left, their worries and fears never came to fruition.  Just as they balanced each other in personality, they balanced each other in lifestyle—when Y/N needed a break from high school and university, Harry brought her to shows, award ceremonies, and parties, and when Harry felt like his fame was overwhelming, Y/N sent him reminders of home, hosted countless movie nights for him, and told him story after story of university life.

They were so perfectly matched that, when they were younger, many people—and tabloids—suspected that they were dating.  Even their mothers had asked them, on occasion, if one of them had any interest in the other.  However, their answers were always the same.  Y/N and Harry were best friends, and nothing more.  Sure, they were touchy, affectionate, called each other pet names, and had even kissed on a few occasions during truth or dare at parties, but none of it actually meant anything.  Y/N had watched Harry grow from a cute kid to an awkward teen to a self-assured man, and her feelings for him had never changed, and an attraction to him had never developed.

Until now.

Harry’s facing away from her, his towel in his hand as he dries his chest.  His entire body glistens with water from the shower.  Y/N can’t stop herself from letting her eyes canvas over every inch of his smooth arms, toned back, down lower to his—

Her breath catches in her throat.  Yeah. His ass is toned, too, she thinks to herself, and only has another moment to think that she shouldn’t be looking before Harry glances over his shoulder, alarmed by the small sound she had made.

“Y/N—” His eyes widen a bit, but he doesn’t make an effort to cover himself with his towel very quickly.

Her eyes automatically follow his movement for a moment before she realizes what she’s about to see. “Sorry!” Y/N turns around quickly, her face heated. “Sorry, I—the door was unlocked, I didn’t realize you were—”

“It’s fine.” Harry fixes his towel around his waist. “Don’t worry about—”

Y/N leaves the bathroom before he can finish his sentence, walking to her bedroom quickly and shutting the door tightly behind her.

Harry, it seems, is today’s reminder that she’s no longer a teenager, because his body is that of a man.

It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before, she tells herself, walking to her dresser to pick out a change of clothes.  Y/N’s seen him half naked countless times.  The whole world has seen Harry half naked countless times.  But she’s never seen him like that.

When did Harry grow up? Somehow, between movie nights and pool parties and going away to school, Y/N had failed to notice that her childhood best friend is no longer a child.  Harry had grown into his features, developed muscles in his arms and chest, tattooed designs all over his skin, and had become an incredibly attractive adult without her noticing.

Y/N pulls her pajamas off quickly, stopping to glance at herself in her full length mirror.  She, like Harry, is also no longer a child. She had grown into her features like he had, had gotten a few tattoos, made her share of mistakes, and became an adult the same way he did.  Neither her nor Harry’s growth had happened overnight.

As she runs her hand between her chest, down her stomach, brushing her hip, Y/N can’t help but wonder: has Harry noticed that they’ve grown up?  Does he still look at her and see the shy little girl, the developing teenager, or does he look at her and see a grown woman?  Is she the only one who’s been late to the party?

Y/N feels a flutter in the pit of her stomach.  Is it possible that, at some point, Harry looked at her and had the same realization that she had a moment ago?  That not only had she grown into a woman, but that she had grown into an attractive woman?

The sound of the bathroom door opening distracts Y/N from her thoughts, and she hurries to finish getting dressed.  Her shirt, she finds when she pulls it on, smells a bit like Harry’s cologne, as she had set it on the side of the bed that he slept on the night before.  She likes it more than she should.

After she’s dressed, she debates just staying in her bedroom to avoid facing Harry again for a bit longer. However, she can hear him working her coffee maker in the kitchen, and knows she can’t hide in her bedroom like a child.  She isn’t a child.

Neither is he, she thinks to herself as she touches her bedroom doorknob. Which is the problem.

Still, Y/N shakes herself from her thoughts and walks out to her kitchen.

Harry, now dressed in wide leg jeans and a plain white t-shirt, is leaning against her kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in his hand.  His hair is still wet from his shower, but other than that, he looks normal. Completely normal.

And yet, Y/N can’t manage to meet his eyes.

“Good morning.” Harry’s voice is low, a bit of amusement in it as he notices her demeanor. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine.” Y/N hates how tight her voice is as she grabs a mug from the kitchen cabinet. “I slept fine. Did you?”

Harry nods, his eyes still tracing her every move as her own eyes avoid him. “I did.  Woke up a bit early, though.  Thought I’d shower before brunch.”

Right.  Brunch.  They’re having brunch that day with a few old friends, at a place just down the street from Y/N’s apartment, which is why Harry had stayed over the night before.  Y/N was going to have to act normal around their other friends, which means she can’t avoid looking at him for much longer.

“I’m sorry.” She says as she pours a cup of coffee. “I am, I—I should’ve knocked.  I forgot you slept over, and—”

“It’s fine, Y/N.  I should’ve locked the door.” Harry says easily, the corner of his lips tugging up. “It’s not a big deal.  Besides, it’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before.”

At that comment, Y/N pauses. “Except…I haven’t seen you naked before?”

Harry shakes his head adamantly. “No.  You have. There’s no way we’ve been friends for almost twenty years, and you haven’t.”

“Harry, believe me. I’ve seen you in a lot of weird positions over the years, but I’ve never seen you completely nude.” Y/N feels her regular ease with him begin to return, just a little bit. “I would remember that.”

“Would you?” Harry cocks an eyebrow, his coffee cup half raised to his lips.

The bit of ease that returned disappears immediately. “I—” Y/N’s cheeks heat up again. “Shut up, you know what I meant.”

Harry tries to hide his laugh behind his coffee, but fails. “I’m just teasing you, love.  It’s fine, promise.  I don’t mind that you saw.  I’m very comfortable in my body.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Too comfortable, I think.”

“Is there such a thing as being too comfortable in your body?” Harry asks in a teasing voice, crossing his arms.

“When your best friend walks in on you naked and you don’t bother to cover yourself?” Despite the blush on her cheeks, Y/N manages to laugh. “Yes.  There is.”

“I don’t know…” Harry finishes his coffee and sets the mug in the kitchen sink. “It sounds like there’s issues with your comfort, not mine.”

Before Y/N can form a reply, Harry shoots her a smirk and walks out of the kitchen.

For the rest of the day, Y/N does her best not to think about that morning’s awkward encounter. Brunch with her friends is normal, and she just lets herself enjoy having Harry home, and catching up with everyone.  The afternoon also passes in an unremarkable way, as does that night.  Over the next few days, however, things begin to change.

Within two weeks, the atmosphere of the country has shifted.  There’s a virus that’s highly contagious and can be fatal, Y/N’s work tells her to work from home, and soon the entire country is being told to stay home to avoid catching Coronavirus.

And then Harry texts her two days later, without any warning or leeway for her to disagree.

I’m on the last flight back to London.  Pack a bag and bring some groceries to my place, so we can isolate together.  You’ll go crazy alone in your flat.

Y/N tries to reply that it’s not necessary, but her message doesn’t go through.  Harry’s already on the plane.  So she does what he says, and packs a bag of clothes, her work bag, some alcohol, and her favourite snacks, and drives over to his house.

Letting herself in with her key, Y/N begins to bring the house back to life.  She lights Harry’s candles and orders some dinner, as well as groceries for the next couple weeks.  She makes sure she gets his favourite foods, and the weird snacks that only he likes.  She calls her mum to tell her she’ll be with Harry, and Anne, to tell her the same thing. And then she waits.

When Harry finally walks through the front door, he looks more like the tired seventeen year old on his first tour than the grown man she had seen a few weeks ago.  The bags under his eyes are evidence of his jetlag and stress, his jacket is rumpled from the plane, his hair just as messy, and he looks like he could collapse the second the door closes behind him.

“H.” Y/N walks towards him and gives him a tight hug.  One hand goes to his back and the other to his hair, playing with it as she always does. “Are you alright?”

“Long flight.” Harry mutters in reply, eyes closed as he holds her tight. “Everyone’s going insane in the States.  I’m lucky I got a flight back to London.”

“Why did you?” Y/N pulls back, brushing his messy hair from his eyes. “You could’ve stayed in LA.”

“Yeah, but…” Harry shrugs a bit. “I knew you’d be alone.  And I wanted to be with you.”

Y/N can’t help the soft smile that creeps onto her face. “C’mon.  I have dinner ready.”

Harry barely makes it through dinner with his eyes open, but still insists on watching a movie after. Y/N tries to tell him that he should just go to sleep, but he won’t hear it.

“We can watch it in my bed, like we used to when we were little.” Harry gives her his best puppy dog eyes. “Please?”

Y/N shoves his shoulder. “You’re twenty-six.  Stop pouting to get what you want.”

“I’ll stop pouting when it stops working.”

Y/N laughs in spite of herself. “Fine, but shower first.  You smell like a plane.”

Of course, as predicted, Harry starts to drift to sleep within the first half hour of the movie. He slips down in the bed more and more, until his head is in Y/N’s lap completely.  Out of habit, Y/N begins to play with his damp curls, running her fingers through them at a steady pace as she watches the movie.

Harry’s breathing begins to even out as she does, and Y/N begins to pay more attention to him than the TV.  When they spend the night with each other, Y/N always falls asleep first.  It’s rare she gets to see him completely relaxed.

As much as she loves his green eyes, his eyelashes may be a close second.  They’re so long and dark that they almost make Y/N jealous.  And his cheeks…she brings one hand up to gently touch them.  They’re stubbled from his long day of travel, but the skin underneath feels soft. Despite having lost his baby fat years ago, there’s still a layer of tenderness in his body.

Y/N is so distracted by him that she doesn’t realize that she’s stopped playing with his hair, not until Harry speaks up.

“Why’d you stop?” His voice is groggy with exhaustion, lower, with a thicker accent.  His words slur together as well

“Hm?” Y/N hums in her throat in response. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Not really.” Harry’s eyes stay closed as he shifts his position a bit. “Will you play with my hair a bit longer?  Feels nice.”

The movie credits roll in the background as Y/N does what he says.  Harry sighs contently, relaxing back into her again.

Y/N turns the TV off, so the only light in the room comes from the moon through the open curtains. It shines over half of Harry’s face, catching the ends of his eyelashes.  Somehow, the moonlight makes his cheeks and lips even more pink.  

“You’re really pretty, y’know that?” Y/N says it absentmindedly, her fingers still combing through Harry’s curls.

“Thanks.” He has just enough energy to mumble a response. “’M, not as pretty as you, though.”

Y/N’s stomach flutters when he says it, so quiet that she’s not even certain she heard him correctly. “Liar.”

“’S true.” Harry’s reply is even less audible than before. “So pretty.”

If Harry was awake and more present in the conversation, Y/N might tease him.  She might try to make him blush, or roll his eyes, or laugh. Maybe, just maybe, she’d even ask him to elaborate, just enough that she could figure out what the fluttering in her stomach means.

But Harry is hardly awake right now.  And it wouldn’t be fair.

“Go to sleep, H,” is all Y/N says, shifting to lay down a bit more without pausing the movement of her fingers.

…

It takes Harry a few days to readjust to London time.  While Y/N spends her weekdays working from the kitchen table, Harry naps and fiddles with his guitar and journal.  While she can tell he’s working on something, Y/N can also tell that he’s not making much process.

A week after coming back from LA, Harry half stomps into the kitchen during the afternoon, frustration clear on his face as he opens the fridge and grabs an apple.  He bites into it angrily and leans against the counter, the irritation still on his face.

Y/N glances at him from behind her laptop. “Everything alright?”

Harry gives half a shrug. “Trying to write.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Fucking sucks.” Harry takes another bite of the apple. “I thought I’d feel more inspired, being at home and not having deadlines, but I can’t get anything out.  Not anything good, anyways.”

“I know the feeling.” Y/N sighs as she closes her laptop. “There’s been a huge surge in online orders, and my boss wants me to create more promo material, but it’s hard to focus on anything right now.”

Harry nods and glances out the window. “Doesn’t help that it’s a beautiful day, but we can’t go out.”

“We can go out.  We just can’t leave the property.” Y/N replies. “You have a giant backyard.  Why don’t you use it?”

“Yeah.  Maybe I’ll go for a swim.” Harry takes another bite of his apple. “You want to come?”

Y/N laughs a bit. “Unlike you, H, I have a real nine to five job.  I’m on the clock for another two hours.”

“After, then.” Harry tosses his apple core in the compost and gives her a grin. “I hope you packed that yellow bikini.”

Y/N crumples a piece of scrap paper in her hand and throws it at him. “Piss off.”

Y/N did, in fact, pack her yellow bikini.  However, when she’s changing from her clothes into a swimsuit, she chooses her blue bikini instead, just to have a bit of agency.  Every instinct in her is telling her to wear what Harry said to, and it’s a little concerning.  She’s never cared about dressing for him before, and she isn’t prepared to start.

Despite the different colour, Harry still grins from the edge of the pool when he sees her walk out. “Look at you.  Should’ve put you in the Watermelon Sugar music video.”

“Shut up.” Y/N sits on the edge of the pool, dangling her lets in the water.  Harry rests his head on his arms, his cheeky grin still on his face as he looks up at her.

“I’m serious.” He says innocently. “It was a fun day.  You really would’ve liked it.”

“Of course you thought it was fun; you had a bunch of beautiful girls fawning over you and feeding you fruit.” Y/N rolls her eyes from behind her sunglasses. “You’re such a narcissist.”

“All musicians are narcissists, love.  At least, the best ones are.” Harry’s grin grows as he pushes away from the ledge. “Are you going to just sit there and look pretty, or are you actually going to swim?”

“I’m going to tan.” Y/N leans her head back, enjoying the feeling of the warm sun.

Harry shakes his head. “No, sorry.  The pool is for swimming only.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

In hindsight, Y/N should’ve known what Harry was about to do.  She’s been friends with him long enough that she knows how his brain works. However, Y/N is enjoying the sun so much that she lets her guard down for one moment, and that one moment is all Harry needs.

She feels his hands grip her legs, and before she can stop him, he pulls her into the pool.  Her entire body submerges, and when she finally rises, gasping for air, the only thing she can hear is Harry’s snickering.

“You’re such an ass!” Y/N hits his shoulder hard, not caring about leaving a mark on him. “That’s not funny!”

“The pool is for swimming only.  I told you.” Harry can’t stop laughing long enough to make it through his sentence clearly. “Them’s the rules.”

“Them’s the rules.” Y/N repeats in a mocking voice, hitting him one more time. “You’re the worst.”

“Maybe, but you’re stuck with me.” Harry runs a hand through his wet hair. “At least until quarantine is done.”

“I should’ve stayed alone in my apartment.” Y/N mutters, tossing her wet sunglasses on the pool ledge. “Would’ve been so much more peaceful.”

“And boring.” Harry points out. “And you wouldn’t get to take relaxing swims like this!”

“Right.  Relaxing.” Y/N splashes him playfully. “Jerk.”

Harry just grins at you.

…

“Want one?”

Y/N glances at Harry as he packs loose marijuana into a wrapper, concentration clear on his face as he rolls it.

“You learn how to roll those in LA?” Y/N asks, taking a sip of her wine.

Harry chuckles lightly, his skin illuminated by the fire burning in front of them and the moon above them. “Yeah.  I’m not very good, though.  Usually I have somebody else to roll them for me.”

“So high maintenance.”

Another low laugh rolls out of Harry’s mouth. “Ha.  High maintenance.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but an endearing smile is on her face. “It’s still illegal in the U.K., you know.”

“I doubt the police are going to break social distancing rules to arrest me for it.” Harry’s tongue pokes out of his mouth as he tries his best to roll the joint tightly.

Y/N watches as Harry brings the wrapper to his mouth, licking it lightly.  To her dismay, her attraction to Harry had yet to fade, and spending every moment of the day together wasn’t helping.

“I’m not an eighteen year old girl on your tour bus anymore, Harry.” Y/N raises her wine glass. “I drink red wine now.  I’m sophisticated.”

Harry snorts, his eyes flickering to her before looking back down at the joint. “Sophisticated, right. Like you didn’t do body shots off the bartender at your birthday party this year.”

Y/N’s cheeks burn. “Birthdays don’t count.”

“Neither did tour buses, and neither does my backyard in the middle of a pandemic.” Harry seals the joint as best he can. “You may have a fancy job now, but you’re still my Y/N.”

His Y/N.  That phrase ignites the now familiar flutter in her stomach and, over the last few days, her core.  Something about Harry identifying her as his drives Y/N insane, even if it’s nothing new.

“And what exactly does your Y/N do?” She manages to say after a moment.

“She doesn’t take shit from anyone.  She gets drunk fast and high faster.  She’s always down for a laugh.  And, although she won’t admit it, she has a tendency to make bad decisions that she tries to suppress, but can’t always manage to do so.” Harry sparks his lighter and sticks the joint between his lips, lighting it and puffing it quickly.

“Then you should know that your Y/N can’t have a joint of her own.” Y/N steals the joint from Harry’s lips, taking a few puffs of her own from it before handing it back.

The smoke curls in her lungs, forcing a few coughs from her.

“Alright?” Harry asks, concern in his eyes.

Y/N nods, her hand pressed to her chest like she can stop the burn. “Yeah.  Just haven’t done that in a while.”

“You always cough so much. It would be cute if it wasn’t so bloody concerning.” Harry says casually, lifting the joint to his lips and inhaling.

Y/N watches as he exhales smoke slowly.  She wonders if she looks as attractive as he does when she blows out smoke.

Harry grins at her with just the corner of his mouth, like there’s a secret tugging at the edge of his lips.

Y/N really doubts it.

“Here.” Harry places the joint between her lips. “Inhale slowly.”

Y/N does as he says, doing her best to keep from coughing until the joint and his hand is away from her face.  Her eyes burn a bit, both from the smoke and the oncoming high that’s starting to twist through her body.

“That’s a good girl.” Harry praises her before leaning back, placing the joint back between his own lips. “You’ve gotten better at that.  Thought you were going to pass out the first time we smoked, remember?”

“I remember I almost did.” Y/N giggles to herself as she settles down into the couch more. “I coughed so much that I thought I was going to die on that tour bus.”

“Niall was certain you had.” Harry laughs too, and Y/N known they’re both playing back the same memory. “Wasn’t quite sure how we were going to explain that one to Paul.  Neither was I, honestly.”

“You don’t give me enough credit.” Despite the feeling coming over her, YN still takes another sip of her wine. “I was fine.”

Harry nods as he finishes the joint, setting the butt down into his ash tray. “Still…we had some fun nights on the bus when you were there.”

“That was a fun summer.” Y/N agrees, her eyes fixed on the fire before them. “Lots of good memories.”

As Y/N watches the fire, Harry watches her.  He lets another moment or two pass before speaking again.

“When you were on tour with us that summer…” He rubs his lips absentmindedly. “You and Niall.  Did you two ever…?”

“What?  Fuck?” The weed and the alcohol take away the careful tone of Y/N’s regular speech, leaving honesty and bluntness behind.

Harry laughs once. “I was going to say date, but yeah.  I guess so.”

“We didn’t date. We fooled around a few times.” Y/N shrugs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “He was fun.  But we both knew it wasn’t anything serious, just something to do while I was on tour with you.”

Harry nods a bit, reaching for his own drink and taking a sip.  Y/N watches the movement with heavy lidded eyes.  His arm muscles flex underneath his tattooed skin when he moves, and the way his fingers wrap around his glass is fascinating to her.

“I figured he would have told you.” Y/N pulls her sweater around her tighter.  Now that the sun has set completely, a chill has appeared. “You guys always talked about girls together.”

“No, he didn’t tell me. And I didn’t ask.” Harry keeps his glass in his hand, looking down at it with an unreadable expression. “I thought you might tell me, but you didn’t, either.”

The substances in Y/N’s system are clouding her mind, but she does her best to focus on Harry’s words. As a way to ground herself, she pulls her sweater away from her body, hoping that the cold air will help.

“I’m sorry.” She says slowly, like it takes all her effort to get the words out. “I didn’t mean to…hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t.”

“Oh.” Confusion fogs Y/N’s mind. “Then…why is it bothering you?”

“It’s not bothering me.” Harry denies, finishing off his drink. “I was just wondering why.  You usually tell me everything.  You always have.”

Y/N bites her lip. “I don’t tell you about every person I sleep with.”

Harry hums low in the back of his throat, but offers no other response.

After a few minutes, Y/N stands up. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”

Twisting his empty glass around in his hands, Harry nods. “Alright.  I’ll be up in a little bit.”

“You know, you have a guest room.” Y/N pauses, fiddling with the bottom of her sweater.  Her skin feels unsettled, and the fabric against it isn’t helping. “I should probably start using it.  Social distancing, and all that.”

Harry looks up at her, a stubborn look reflecting in his eyes. “No.  I sleep better with you beside me.”

When Harry finally comes up to bed an hour later, Y/N is still awake, eyes closed, with her back away from the door and head toward the wall.  She doesn’t turn over when she hears the door creak open, and instead just listens to the rustling sounds of Harry changing, going to the bathroom, washing his hands, and returning to the bedroom.

Y/N feels his weight on the bed, but doesn’t hear him slide in next to her.  Instead, she does her best to stay completely relaxed when she feels his fingers brush against her hairline, pushing back a few loose strands.

Staying completely relaxed, it turns out, is easier thought than done.  The moment Harry touches her, Y/N feels the nerves in her face burst to life. It’s like electricity, like nothing she’s ever felt before from any previous touches from Harry.  Behind her closed eyes, Y/N feels her head spinning, but she’s certain it must be the weed and the alcohol in her system.

Finally, the sheets are pulled back, and Harry gets under the covers.  He pulls Y/N back against him, and Y/N can feel the hot skin of his chest pressed against her shoulders.  Harry takes a moment to adjust before sighing, almost in content, and then he presses a gentle kiss to the back of her shoulder.

The tender action leaves Y/N speechless.  The action itself isn’t new; they had always been very physically affectionate with each other.  But there’s something about the moment that Y/N can’t quite place a finger on. Perhaps she would be able to if she was sober, or less tired, but with her brain in its current state, the words she needs are lost, and she’s certain she won’t remember the feeling in the morning.

Harry inhales deeply, his nose buried in her hair, and sighs again.  Y/N can feel him relaxing back against her, but his arms stay wrapped around her tightly.  It’s a comforting embrace, and makes it easy for Y/N’s mind to finally quiet and drift off.

…

“You’re still working?”

Y/N looks up from her laptop to see Harry standing above her, sweaty from his workout.  His hair is tied up in a little ponytail on top of his head, and he has a towel wrapped around his shoulders that he uses to wipe sweat from his face.  His body is literally glistening in the sunlight, and Y/N suddenly finds it very hard to focus on her work.

“I am.” She says finally, closing the lid of her laptop and stretching out on the beach chair. “Or I was. I’m done for today.”

“Good.” Harry sits down on the chair next to her. “I’m going to have a shower, but I was thinking we should try baking something later.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I want cupcakes, and homemade are way better than store bought.” Harry says easily, stealing Y/N’s water and taking a gulp from it.

Y/N watches his throat move as he swallows the water, how his Adam’s apple bobs, how he licks his lips when he finally pulls the glass away from his mouth.

Y/N’s own mouth suddenly feels very dry.

“Alright, yeah.” Y/N nods weakly. “We can bake something later.  It’ll be fun.”

…

“It’ll be fun.” Y/N shakes her head in disbelief. “God, I can’t believe I said that.”

“It was fun!” Harry argues, holding up a red velvet cupcake. “And we did it!”

“And we made a mess.” Y/N gestures to the kitchen around them, which looks like a warzone.  Flour, powdered sugar, and cocoa powder cover every counter surface.  There are broken eggshells on the counter, splatters of batter everywhere, and both Y/N and Harry have dyed red hands from food colouring.

“It could be worse.” Harry shrugs, clearly untroubled. “C’mon.  Try a cupcake.”

Y/N reaches for one, but Harry simply lifts the one in his hand to her mouth.  She locks eyes with him as she takes a bite, the icing smearing across her top lip.

Y/N chews slowly and swallows hard. “Yeah.  They’re good.”

Harry extends a hand, and his finger runs along her lip, collecting the icing.  He pops it into his mouth, sucking for a moment before humming in agreement. “Yeah.  Sweet.”

The cupcakes, it turns out, pair well with watermelon cocktails, and soon Y/N and Harry are sitting on the couch, takeout and cupcakes in front of them and drinks in their hands as they giggle and talk.  They’re intoxicated, but not just from the alcohol in the strong drinks that Harry makes.

“Honestly, working from home isn’t ideal, but it’s not that bad.” Y/N pops a bite of food into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Definitely not the worst part of quarantine.”

“Yeah?” Harry leans back on the couch. “What’s the worst part?”

Y/N shrugs. “It sucks being away from people, cooped up inside.”

Harry nods, but his face looks wistful. “I miss sex.”

Y/N laughs, but she nods in agreement as well. “Fuck, I know.  I miss sex so much.”

“It’s nice, you know? A good way to burn some energy…always sleep so well after…” Harry sighs, taking a sip of his drink between his phrases. “I feel like I’m back on a tour bus again, with no one around but my hand.”

A giggle escapes Y/N’s mouth. “How tragic.” She also takes a sip of her drink, and tries to stop herself from making a face.  Harry really does make them strong. “I just miss touching.  I haven’t been this touch starved since I was seventeen.”

Harry makes a scoffing noise in the back of his throat. “We touch.”

“That’s different.” Y/N finishes her drink. “That’s friendly touching.  It’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean, then?” Harry challenges her, a glint in his eyes that Y/N’s come to recognize as a sign of trouble.

She refuses to take the bait. “You know what I meant.”

“I don’t.” Harry says it innocently, and he reaches forward to take her glass from her. “How about I get us some refills while you think of how to say it?”

Y/N lets him take the glass (she loves his drinks, despite how strong they are), but shakes her head. “Stop being an ass.  You know exactly what I meant.”

A low laugh rolls out of Harry as he walks to the built-in bar he has in the lounge.  He begins to recreate the drinks, muddling this, adding a splash of that.  If Harry wasn’t already a rock star, she’d suggest he become a mixologist.

“Maybe I do know what you meant.” Harry shakes the cocktail shaker with ease before straining the liquid out over their glasses, which he’s filled with fresh ice. “But I want to hear you say it.”

Y/N runs a hand through her hair.  She feels warm from the alcohol, and the lit candles around them aren’t helping.  The food and cupcakes sit on the table, all but forgotten in their new conversation. “Say what?”

Harry’s lips pull up in a smirk, but his eyes show something else.  He walks back over and hands her the drink before taking a seat next to her again. “The kind of touching you miss.”

Their fingers touch as Y/N takes the glass from him, and suddenly the warmth of the room feels ten times hotter. “You want me to say it?”

Harry lifts his glass to his lips, but keeps his eyes on her. “I do.”

“I…” Y/N takes a sip of the drink (which is stronger than the one before) and then presses the cold glass to her cheek. “I miss touching.  Intimate touching.  And…being touched intimately.”  

Harry inhales deeply, stretching out his shoulders before responding. “Yeah.  I miss that too.  Holding hands, touching someone’s stomach, chest, legs…having them play with my hair…”

“I play with your hair.” Y/N says defensively, a crease appearing between her eyebrows.

Harry laughs once. “Right, but like you said…that’s different.”

Y/N clears her throat. “Right.”

Harry takes a long sip from his drink. “’S still nice, though.” Harry adds after a moment, licking his lips. “I love when you play with my hair.  You know that.”

Nodding softly, Y/N begins to trail a finger over the rim of her glass.  Whenever she begins to get tipsy, she begins to fidget more, and feel freer in her actions.  And when Y/N glances back at Harry, she can tell he recognizes the sign as well.

“What about you?” He asks, bringing her back from her thoughts. “What do you miss having people do?”

Y/N drinks again, pulling her knees to her chest as she leans against the couch’s armrest. “I miss…having my hair played with, too.  That’s always nice.  I miss having my fingers played with…neck kisses…I like when people, like, rub my arms or thighs, just absentmindedly…” She leans her head against her arm. “Your turn.”

“My turn?” Harry rubs his nose lightly, and Y/N can tell he’s feeling the alcohol, too. “What’s my turn?”

“Tell me what else you like.” Y/N smiles softly, a small laugh just barely bubbling out from her. “We’ve never actually talked about it, H.  Isn’t that strange?”

Harry turns to face her more, pausing to think for a moment. “I suppose we’ve never been specific before, yeah.” He taps his thumb against his H ring. “I like being in control, usually. Telling them what to do, where to touch me…” His eyes get a faraway look in them. “But sometimes it’s nice to give up control.  Have someone else…”

“Decide.” Y/N finishes his sentence for him when he trails off. “Yeah.  I’m more like that, I think.  I usually let someone else decide.  But I like the in-between, too.  Like…both exploring each other.”

“What do you mean?” Harry cocks his head to the side curiously.

Y/N shrugs loosely, her finger still tracing her glass. “’S hard to explain.”

Harry’s voice is low when he replies, almost like he’s somewhere else. “Try.”

“Well…” Y/N takes a drink before setting her glass down. “It’s like…do you remember your first time?”

Harry blinks, surprised at the question, but nods. “Yeah.  I do.”

“And remember how nervous you were?”

“Yeah.”

“And like…” Y/N plays with her fingers as she ponders her next words. “You were nervous, yeah, but there was also this excitement in you.  Kind of like…a breathlessness.  And you looked at the other person and knew they…”

Harry closes his eyes for a moment. “Felt the same.”

“Yeah.” Y/N tucks her hair behind her ears. “And just, like, being comfortable with them, and knowing you could both explore, and ask questions, and you were both together…” Y/N feels heat rise to her cheeks as she trails off. “I don’t know.  I feel like that’s rare, but I—it’s nice.  I like it.”

“Yeah.” Harry rubs his thumb over his lip as he shifts his position on the couch. “It’s nice, yeah. Rare, usually.  But nice.”

“I think it’s rare, because, like—” The alcohol makes it harder for Y/N to gather her thoughts, but also harder to sensor them. “I don’t know, I feel like when I was younger, and hadn’t had sex yet, I took more time with, like, finding the right person? Like I wanted it to be with someone who loved me for the first time, and someone I was comfortable with, and it was. And then after, the love part didn’t matter so much for me.” Y/N glances at Harry, who seems to be hanging on her every word. “Which, like, was fine.  What mattered to me the most was that whoever I had sex with respected me. And they did, so that was…good. But it’s different.” Y/N rubs her arms. “I don’t know if that makes sense…”

“It does.” Harry assures her, placing a light hand on her knee.  He begins to rub small circles. “Keep going.”

“I just think that, like, that in-between, breathless, exploring each other kind of thing…the comfort…that’s rare because it only really happens with someone you love.” Y/N murmurs. “At least, that’s how it is for me.  And I haven’t really been in love much in my life.”

“I’ve been in love probably too much.” Harry admits, his hand still on Y/N’s knee. “Too much to be good for me.”

Y/N shakes her head adamantly. “No, H.  That’s good. That’s…brave.  You’re not afraid of how you feel.  Most people are.”

“Maybe.” Harry finishes his drink again with one long gulp.  

Y/N watches as he does, seeing a little drip of liquid slip from the corner of his mouth.  She can’t stop herself from leaning forward and wiping it away with her thumb, feeling the stubble of Harry’s chin scratch against her.

Harry watches her with hooded eyes as she leans back to her previous position.  His hand slips a bit higher, from her knee to her lower thigh, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Who have you been in love with?” He asks.  His words are slurred a bit, and his accent seems thicker.

“My first boyfriend, Parker. You remember him.” Y/N sighs, closing her eyes as she herself remembers. “And…Christian, from university.  We were together for two years.  That’s it, I think.”

Despite the alcohol, Harry’s face still shows some surprise. “Really?  No one else?  No one since Christian?”

Y/N shrugs. “I’ve dated, yeah, and had relationships, but…I don’t know.  I didn’t love any of them.  I was…infatuated.  But I never…it was intense, but like—intense like a spark.  Nothing prolonged.”

Harry hums in response. “Thought you were going to say Niall for a moment.  He was pretty torn up when you went back to school after that summer.”

Y/N’s face mimics Harry’s surprise from a moment ago. “Was he?”

“Yeah.  Moped around a bit, spent time by himself, on his phone every two minutes…” Harry’s expression shows the difficulty it’s taking him to think back eight years while drunk. “I knew it was because you left.  Thought you two had an…agreement, or something.”

“An agreement?” A giggle escapes Y/N. “This isn’t a Jane Austen book, Harry.  We didn’t have an agreement.” Once she gets her laughter out, she sighs. “He was that upset?”

“Yeah.” Harry scratches the back of his neck. “So I thought…he must be in love with you.  And you were…”

“No, I wasn’t.” Y/N says softly. “He was so upset that you thought he was in love with me?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N bites her lip. “Was he more upset than you?”

Harry takes a moment to reply, looking at her with a serious expression.  His lips are so red, and his eyes are so green, and both of them are so drunk that neither of them can sense the meaning behind what they’re saying.

“No.” Harry finally responds. “He wasn’t.”

…

“Good morning.”

“Shhh.” Y/N covers her eyes with her arm. “Don’t yell in my ear.”

“I whispered.” Harry counters, but his voice is a bit quieter this time. “Do you have a headache?”

“I didn’t know something flavoured with watermelon could make me feel so shitty.” Y/N groans a bit, shifting on the bed without opening her eyes. “What did you do to me?”

When Harry laughs, it’s not audible, but Y/N can feel it through his chest pressed against her side.

“How are you completely fine right now?” She asks, rubbing her eyes.

“I’m used to it.  I’ve always been way better with hangovers than you.” Harry presses a small kiss to her shoulder before getting up. “How does breakfast in bed sound?”

“Normally amazing, but I can’t eat right now.” Y/N mutters. “How about coffee in bed?”

“Sure.” Harry smiles a bit. “You look cute like this.”

“Shut up.”

Harry returns ten minutes later with a tray of coffee, toast, and eggs, of which he manages to coax Y/N to take a few bites.  She doesn’t really want it, but she knows it’s easier to do as he says instead of arguing.

“How about we have a movie day today?” Harry suggests after breakfast. “In bed, since it seems like you won’t be moving anytime soon.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Y/N glares at him from the top of her coffee cup.

Harry raises his hands in defense. “Hey, I didn’t make you drink.  You chose to.”

“I know, but it’s easier to blame you.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Is that why you’ve been doing it for twenty years?”

“Exactly.”

Harry carefully lifts the empty tray to the ground before holding up the remote. “You can pick the movies.”

Y/N bites her lip. “If we watch Titanic, will you make fun of me when I cry?”

“Of course not.  I’ll even cry with you out of solidarity.”

“Alright.” Y/N settles back into the blankets. “Put it on, then.”

It’s easy for them to be like this, Y/N thinks, as Harry pulls her into his arms when the movie starts. It’s always been so natural for them to be physical and affectionate with each other.  They’ve never acted any other way.

Except this doesn’t feel like any other way.

Yes, Y/N has watched countless movies while cuddling in bed with Harry.  But has he ever whispered in her ear like that before?  Has he ever rubbed her sides so carefully before? Has he ever let his lips rest on the bare skin of her shoulder, almost at the base of her neck?

Y/N can’t recall. However, she’s certain that if he had, it hasn’t felt so electric.

“Look at them.  Look at how Jack watches her.” Harry murmurs his words directly in Y/N’s ear as they watch Jack draw Rose.  Y/N can feel his lips brushing against her, and the heat of his breath and tone of his voice makes her shiver.

“She’s very pretty.” Y/N nods, shifting in Harry’s arms.  She likes how warm he feels.

“I suppose, but that’s not what I meant.” Harry traces shapes on her arm. “I meant look at how he looks at her.  Do you think they have the kind of love you talked about last night?”

Y/N glances over her shoulder at him, surprised he remembers their conversation. “I think so.  Do you?”

“Yeah.” Harry says in a low voice.  He says no more, so Y/N turns back to face the television.

They continue to watch in silence, gripping each other a bit tighter as the Titanic begins to sink. As they watch a mother reading to her two young children in bed, Y/N begins to lose her composure, like always. Tears well in her eyes, and she lets out a quiet hitched breath, a single sniffle.

“It’s alright, love.” Harry’s hands move to her stomach, holding her tighter to comfort her. “Don’t cry.”

Y/N can hear the tears in his voice, just as they’re in her own. “Can’t help it.  This part and the band and the old couple in bed—they always get me.”

“I know.” Harry rubs his thumb along your side.

Y/N reaches behind her without turning around, threading her fingers through Harry’s messy curls.  She plays with them absentmindedly as she watches, and tries to ignore how right it feels to be close to him like this.  She wonders if he notices it, too.

Harry presses a chaste kiss to her shoulder.

…

The day they hit the one month mark of quarantine, Harry sits across from Y/N at breakfast with a determined look on his face.

“I have a proposition for you.”

Y/N glances up at him, her attention barely shifting from her book. “A proposition?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind of proposition?” Y/N tilts her head to the side.  What she first thought was just determination on Harry’s face, she realizes, is actually determination and mischief, and she knows it won’t end well.

“I haven’t had a tattoo in a while.” Harry steals a strawberry from Y/N’s plate. “And I have a machine here, so I was thinking you could give me one.”

Y/N stares at Harry incredulously as he pops the strawberry in his mouth. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Probably.”

“I’m a terrible artist, Harry.  You know that.” Y/N shakes her head. “And even if I wasn’t, I have no idea how to tattoo someone!”

“You can watch a YouTube tutorial, or read a WikiHow.” Harry sighs loudly. “I’m so bored in isolation!”

“What do you even want tattooed?” Y/N eyes the intricate tattoos on his arms suspiciously. “I doubt I could do something like your ship.”

“Something simple.” He shrugs. “Probably lettering.”

“Probably?” Y/N says suspiciously.

“That’s why I want you to do it.  I want it in your handwriting.”

Harry’s tone is easy, but it makes her breathing shallow.

“You do?”

“Yeah.  I was thinking of something to remind me of this time, because of how weird it is.”

Despite her increased heartbeat, Y/N laughs. “What, do you want me to tattoo COVID-19 on you?”

“No.  Be a little more creative than that.” Harry scoffs.

“Why do I have to be creative?”

“Because I want you to decide what I get.”

Y/N’s eyes widen. “You’re not serious.”

“I am!  Why is that so hard to believe?” Harry asks. “I trust you. And you’re good with words.”

“No.  Absolutely not.”

…

“Make sure my drink has two shots in it.” Y/N calls to Harry as she looks over the tattoo supplies on the living room table.

Harry laughs. “I’m not sure I want my tattoo artist to be drunk.”

“The only way I’ll even be your tattoo artist is if I’m drunk.” She counters. “I still think this is an awful idea.”

Harry hands Y/N a tall glass with a light pink liquid in it. “Drink this, and you’ll change your mind.”

Y/N takes the glass and takes a large gulp, not focusing on the taste of the mixers, but the liquid courage behind them.

Harry grins, lifting his own glass. “Cheers.”

“Shut up and sit down.” Y/N mutters.  She ties her hair back before grabbing the disinfectant wipes. “Where do you want this?”

“My upper inner arm. I already shaved it for you.” Harry smirks as he points to the area, which is easily exposed in his loose tank top.

“And you’re sure I can write it with pen?” Y/N asks nervously as she disinfects the area.

“Mhmm.” Harry leans back comfortably in his chair. “What did you decide on?”

“It’s a secret.” Y/N uncaps the pen, getting closer to him.

“So I can’t know until after it’s on me permanently?”

“Is that a problem?” Y/N asks innocently. “I thought you trusted me?”

Harry chuckles. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Also that I’m good with words.” Y/N makes sure Harry’s head is turned away before she carefully writes the phrase she chose.  Then she snaps on gloves and starts the machine like she watched in videos early that day.

“You’re fine, love.” Harry assures her, seeing the nervous look on her face. “It’s a small tattoo. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

“Quiet.” Y/N mutters. “I need to focus.”

True to Harry’s word, the small tattoo only takes a few minutes to finish.  When it’s done, Y/N gives it one final wipe before setting the machine down and taking off her gloves.

“Alright.” She picks up her glass and drains it completely. “You can look.”

Harry peers at his arm, curiosity clear on his face.  There, in Y/N’s loopy handwriting is the phrase “touch me.”

“It looks so fucking good, Y/N.” Harry grins at her. “You did amazing!”

“I didn’t fuck it up?” She asks, chewing on her lip anxiously. “Is it alright?”

“You did a lovely job.” Harry smiles. “Wrap it for me?”

Y/N does as he asks, carefully wrapping the fresh tattoo in plastic wrap and taping it to his arm. “I think I’ll accept my tip in the form of another drink.”

Harry snickers. “Coming right up.”

Two drinks later, they’re both back in the honest and loose headspace that they’ve grown familiar with. It’s not enough that they’re unaware of their actions, but both Y/N and Harry know that their lips are looser because of the liquor in their systems.

They’ve migrated to the bedroom to get comfier, but took a few items from the bar with them.  It’s with these items that Harry tops up Y/N’s glass again as he speaks.

“So tell me…” He sets the cocktail shaker on his bedside table. “Why ‘touch me’?”

“You said you wanted something to remind you of isolation.” Y/N takes a long sip of her drink. “And that’s what we both miss the most, right?  Being touched?”

Harry nods slowly, his rings clinking against his glass. “Yeah.  I’m probably going to go straight to the bars after this is all done.  Find someone there.”

He laughs lightly, showing that what he says it half a joke, but Y/N sighs wistfully and shakes her head in disagreement. “I won’t.”

“You won’t?” Harry is surprised, his laughter fading. “Why not?”

Her shrug almost causes her to spill her drink on the bed. “I don’t know.” Y/N sighs again. “I don’t really—I’m not a hookup fan.  Not right now, at least.  It’s not what I…want.”

“What do you want, then?” Harry finishes his drink, but sets the glass down instead of refilling it. “If not sex?”

“I want sex.” Y/N says defensively. “But I want—I don’t want it to be someone random.  I want sex, but I want to be…intimate.  Like, I want to know that person cares about me, and I care about them.”

Harry licks the last of his drink from his lips. “Like that breathless feeling?”

“No.  It would be nice, but no.  That takes time.” Y/N brushes her hair behind her ear. “Just…someone who cares.  I don’t want a quick fuck, I just—”

“You want to be touched. Intimately touched.” Harry takes the empty glass from Y/N’s hand and sets it down on the table next to the bed.

Y/N nods gently, her limbs feeling loose. “Yeah.  Intimately touched.”

“You know, I could…” Harry trails off, pursing his lips. “We could…do that.”

The alcohol makes Y/N slow to recognize the meaning of his words. “What?”

“I’ve noticed you…the way you look at me, it’s…different than it was.” Harry says carefully, his eyes gauging her reaction. “For the last few weeks.  And I—I know that I’m…attracted to you, too.”

“We…” Y/N struggles to think of what to say as she finally registers what’s happening. “We’re friends.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see you as attractive.” Harry looks down at his hands. “Don’t you…?  I mean…”

“I—yeah.  I think you’re—” Y/N laughs a bit nervously. “You’re attractive, H, you know that.  We’ve just never…discussed it.”

“I’m not saying we have to fuck, or—we don’t have to do anything.” Harry straightens his shoulders and looks you in the eye. “Just—when we touch, it’s mild.  If you want to be touched intimately, we could…”

“Like, a hand job?” Y/N says slowly, her words blunt with confusion.

Harry goes a bit red, but he shakes his head quickly. “No, Christ, that’s not what I meant, I—just—can I show you?”

“Um,” Y/N swallows hard. “Sure.”

“Okay.” Harry nods slightly, taking carefully measured breaths. “If this feels weird, or anything seems wrong, just tell me to stop, alright?”

Y/N replies faintly. “Alright.”

Nodding again, Harry moves closer on the bed, sitting on his knees so he can get closer to Y/N, who sits cross-legged.  His hands rest lightly on her bare thighs, and his rings are a cool contrast to his warm skin.

Harry begins to rub his hands up and down her thighs slowly.  His movements are measured, and he watches Y/N’s reaction carefully for a sign of her disliking his actions.  However, what he finds is a nervous but interested girl staring back at him.

“Like this.  Like, what you like.” Harry says lowly.  His hands move more to her inner thighs, but they don’t creep higher. “And…”

“And…?” Y/N asks, her heart rate increasing even more.

Harry moves one hand to the hem of Y/N’s tank top, pushing it up a bit so his hand can rest on her waist. He rubs over her warm skin, marvelling in how smooth and soft it is to his touch.  His fingers graze the lace of her bra, but he goes no higher.

“How—how’s that?” Harry asks quietly.

“It’s, um, it’s good.” Y/N replies as she struggles to keep her voice normal. “Yeah.  Good.  But, um, can you…” Harry’s movements pause at her words, and Y/N feels her cheeks get even warmer. “Maybe touch my, uh, my neck.  If you’d like.”

Harry nods, and the hand on her thigh moves to her neck.  He traces his fingers across her shoulder and over her collarbone, delighting in feeling the curves of her body.  Y/N’s breath hitches when his fingers travel up her neck, and Harry swears he can feel her pulse increase under his fingers.

Y/N’s not sure if it’s the fact that she’s touch starved from self isolating that makes Harry’s touches feel so good, or if it’s the fact that it’s Harry touching her, but she doesn’t dwell on it.  Instead, she closes her eyes and tilts her head back, allowing him better access.

She feels Harry’s breath before she feels his lips, but she’s still surprised when she feels him begin to sponge light kisses across her neck.

“H…”

“Is this alright?” He asks the question right below her ear, and yet she can barely hear him because he’s so quiet.

“Yes.” Y/N breathes. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Harry returns to pressing light kisses to her skin, his hands still rubbing over her sides and hips.

For the first time since seeing Harry naked in her bathroom, Y/N can’t deny or explain away her attraction to him.  She can’t convince herself that she doesn’t want him to touch her, because she does, and she can’t tell herself that she doesn’t need him, because she does. Every fibre of her being is telling her that she needs Harry, and she needs him now.  Her heart is pounding, her skin is on fire, and her core feels like she’d going to explode if he doesn’t do something.  And yet, Y/N can’t tell him to touch her more.  She’s frozen, mind blank, and she can only register what Harry is doing at the moment as what she wants.

Harry continues to kiss her neck, never lingering too long in one spot, never sucking too hard. Every kiss is gentle and chaste, except the few rare ones that include the tip of his tongue running over her skin.

After what feels like an eternity, Harry pulls away from her neck, face flushed.  Despite his hands still on her body, Y/N makes an involuntary sound in the back of her throat.

“Is that better?” He asks lowly, rubbing his thumb against your hip.

“I—kind of.” Y/N says softly.  If anything, she thinks, it’s worse.  She needs to satisfy the burn inside her, but she doesn’t know how.

“Good.” Harry replies, but he doesn’t take his hands off her.

Y/N’s own hands have been sitting at her sides as his moved over her body, but she raises one now, as hesitant as Harry was.  She extends it towards his arm, but pauses with her fingers right over his skin.

“Is it okay if I…?”

The corner of Harry’s lips lifts up, just barely. “Yeah, love.  Go ahead.”

Harry’s skin is warm beneath her touch.  Y/N traces the outline of his mermaid tattoo carefully before moving onto others.  She loves how his arm curves under her touch, how he stays still and lets her explore.  She appreciates it, thinking that if Harry made any sudden movements, she’d force herself to pull away.

Soon, her fingers move from tracing his tattoos to tracing the lines of his muscles.  She moves down his forearm to his hand, running her fingers over the veins that show through his tan skin, over his knuckles, down the tips of his calloused fingers and back.  

Harry sucks in a breath, and Y/N’s trance flickers for a moment as her eyes move to his face to see what’s wrong.

“Sorry, just—surprised me.” Harry says, voice low yet sheepish.  He nods down to his thigh, where Y/N realizes her own hand is resting.

“Oh—” She moves to pull her hand away, but Harry places his own on top.

“It’s fine.” He says quickly. “Keep going.”

Y/N bites her lip as she turns her attention back to his arm.  Her fingers move slowly and carefully back up his forearm to his upper arm. She traces over his tattoos while she rubs her thumb gently against the muscle, and stops her fingers at the edge of his t-shirt sleeve.  With a quick glance at Harry, she pushes the sleeve up, tucking it up on his shoulder so she can run her fingers over his ship tattoo, which is one of her favourites.

“Feels nice.” Harry murmurs, his eyes following her movements.

Y/N glances back at his face, taking in his appearance.  His lips are red from the time he spent kissing her neck, and his cheeks are still flushed.  His eyes are darker than usual, and she’s not certain if it’s the candlelight or something else causing it.  There’s a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, with a few loose curls hanging down. Out of reflex, Y/N reaches up and pushes his hair back out of his eyes.

Before she can return her hand to his arm, Harry captures it in his own.  Y/N watches as he brings it to his lips, inhaling as her wrist passes underneath his nose.  Although she’s not sure why, there’s something about seeing how much smaller her hand is in Harry’s that delights her.

Harry presses a soft kiss to her wrist, following it up with another on her palm.  Y/N’s eyelids flutter at the tender sensation.

“It’s my turn to touch you.” She says softly, her voice strained.

Harry hums in reply. “I know.” He kisses your wrist once more before looking at you. “I’ll help.”

Lifting his hand from his thigh (your hand, which was underneath, stays where it is), he pulls up his shirt just enough that he can sneak your hand underneath.  He rests it on his lower chest, and even though his shirt is still partially covering him, Y/N knows she’s touching his butterfly tattoo.

“I like to be touched here.” Harry says in the same low voice.

“Okay.” Y/N bites her lip, her head swimming with alcohol and the smell of the candles and Harry’s cologne and Harry. “It…would be easier without your shirt.”

Without breaking eye contact, save for the moment fabric covers him, Harry pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side. “Better?”

Y/N’s eyes drift down to his tanned stomach.  His body is familiar and a stranger to her all at once.  She knows his tattoos, scars, every mark on his skin from a distance, but seeing it like this—touching it like this—makes her feel like she’s never truly seen him before.

“Better.” She manages to say, her hand brushing across his ribs.

Y/N spends a while exploring the planes of his stomach, the contours of his body.  When she gets to his v-lines, and runs her fingers over the ferns tattooed there, Harry shivers a bit, his hand gripping her knee tighter.

Y/N massages his thigh gently. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” Harry clears his throat. “I’m good.”

“Okay.” Y/N nods, but moves her hand further up again, over his chest and over his collar bones.  She takes a moment to trace the lines of his neck, feel the beat if his pulse underneath her fingers, and then tangles her fingers in his hair.  She uses the leverage to tilt his head back a bit, and presses her lips to the base of his neck.

Harry’s cologne smells better up close, and Y/N adores the heat of his skin on her sensitive lips. She presses small kisses over the curve of his neck, pausing over his jugular.  Her tongue darts out and she carefully licks along it before ending the motion with a kiss.

“Christ…” Harry exhales slowly, the tips of his fingers digging into her knee slightly.

Y/N knows they’re crossing the threshold of just touching each other for the sake of touching.  She can feel herself dripping in her panties, and when her eyes flicker down, she can see the outline of Harry’s half hard cock in his shorts.  Together, they’ve reached the border of friends helping each other out, and she’s certain that she wants to cross it with him.  However, she’s not sure if they should.

Pulling back enough to look Harry in the eyes, Y/N clears her throat. “H, we—what are we doing?”

Harry waits a moment to answer. “I…I don’t know.  I have no fucking clue.”

“This isn’t friendly anymore.” Y/N’s voice drops to a whisper. “It’s not just—it’s intimate, yeah, but it’s more…” Her eyes move to the outline of his hardening cock once more before looking back up at his face. “It’s more.”

“Yeah.  It’s more.” Harry moves his hand further up her thigh again, rubbing slow circles. “But I don’t want to stop.”

Y/N sucks in a breath. “You don’t?”

“It’s been so long since…” Harry trails off, his gaze drifting down to your lips before returning to your eyes. “And it’s you.  I’ve always wondered if—we—”

“I’ve wondered, too.” Y/N admits, her voice filled with nerves.  Are they really discussing this? “Especially since that day, in the bathroom—”

“I wondered if you looked then.” Harry’s voice drops lower (which Y/N didn’t think was possible). “I thought about it later that day.  I—fuck, I wanted you to look.”

A small noise escapes the back of Y/N’s throat. “This—we’ve been drinking, and—it’s the alcohol, H. Neither of us is thinking straight.”

“This isn’t the alcohol talking.  I’ve thought about—when we’re in the pool, when we cuddle, when we flirt, I—I can’t help it.” Harry closes his eyes for a brief moment, like he’s collecting himself. “I need you.  And I think…I think you need me too.”

“I do.  I need you.” Y/N touches his stubbled jaw with careful fingers. “But we’re friends.  This is going to change that.”

“We don’t know that.” Harry leans into her touch. “You said before that you wanted someone you’re comfortable with, something intimate, something breathless.  You and I are comfortable, and intimate, and—I don’t know.  All I know for sure is that I want you.”

Y/N isn’t sure if he means he wants her in a purely physical way or something more, and while she knows she should clarify that, all she can focus on is his voice and the way it’s going straight to her core.

“I want you, too.” She says simply.

Harry brings his hand to Y/N’s hip. “Can I kiss you?”

Y/N nods.  She’s not sure she’s capable of giving a verbal response.

Harry takes it upon himself to lean closer, his fingertips digging into Y/N’s skin in a way she adores. He pauses, hovering just above her lips for a moment, as if to give her time to pull away.  Instead, Y/N just waits in anticipation, delighting in the feeling of his breath running over her skin.

When he kisses her, Y/N tastes alcohol, mint, and what she swears is her own heart in the back of her throat.

Any previous kisses she’s shared with Harry have been half kisses, given in teenage games of truth or dare and in a friend’s parent’s basement.  Those kisses were safe, guarded, and an obligation.  This kiss is the exact opposite.

Although it starts chaste, it quickly grows more passionate.  Y/N can’t stop herself from tugging on Harry’s hair more than she imagines Harry can stop himself from rucking up the hem of her tank top.  His fingers dip under the band of her lace bralette as she nips at his lip, tugging slightly, delighted when a strangled sound echoes from the back of his throat.

Within minutes, Y/N’s allowed Harry to pull her to straddle his lap, his hands grabbing at her hips with a neediness she’s never seen him exhibit before.  Of course, she feels the same way, and she lets her hand run down his chest over and over, using her nails a little more each time.  Although there’s no one around to see, no party to return to, nowhere to go, Y/N wants to leave a mark.  She wants anyone who sees his chest to know that he belongs to her.

Harry breaks away from her, lips red, eyes frenzied, and breathing heavy. “Can I—?” His hands tug on the hem of her top, tugging in question.

Y/N lifts her arms in response, letting him pull it off and toss it to the side.  Harry moves back in to kiss her again, but she keeps her arms up, giving him a long look.

“You’re not done.” She says simply.

He understands right away, and his fingers find the band of her bralette again.  This time, however, he removes it slower, almost as if the removal is ritual itself, and his hands are less frantic when they return to your skin.

Harry looks at Y/Nu with wide eyes, and she understands the meaning in them: this is so much more than just touching, and so much more than two friends using each other for mutual pleasure.  With every touch, they further cross a line, and neither of them can stop.  

With this realization, Harry’s movements become more cautious.  His hands come to rest on her sides, his thumbs just brushing the side of her breast.

“You’re fine.” Y/N assures him in a soothing voice. “Keep going.”

“Are you fine?” He counters, his voice an equal mix of concern and need.

“H.” Y/N takes his hands in her own and places them over her breasts. “Like that.  Touch me like that.”

Harry sucks in a short breath as she manipulates his hands, showing him how to rub her and touch her. After a few moments, she lets her hands move to his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

Y/N begins to grind against him, desperate for a bit of friction.  Their kisses are soon accented with their moans as they each pull the other closer in lust and need.

Still, underneath the physical desires, there’s a current running between them.  Y/N knows it’s been there for the last few weeks, humming quietly in the back of her mind, but being here, now, with Harry touching her, it’s come alive like an electric fence.  She can’t turn it off, and she doesn’t want to.  She doesn’t want to in the slightest.

Harry begins to kiss down her neck like before, but this time his kisses are anything but chaste. When he reaches her breast, he kisses around them before taking one of her nipples into his mouth.

“Oh fuck—” Y/N arches her back, fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer. “Harry…”

He hums against her, and his spare hand rubs her back like he does when they get ready to sleep.  Usually, the motion is calming, but right now, Y/N feels anything but calm.

Harry continues until he’s satisfied with his work, and then he kisses his way to her other breast, wrapping his lips against her other nipple.  He spends just as much time on that one, letting his teeth graze it ever so slightly before soothing the action with his tongue.

When he pulls back, there’s a little line of spit connecting Harry’s mouth to her nipple, and Y/N whimpers at the sight.

“H…” She runs her finger through the line before gripping his chin with her thumb and forefinger.  The need inside her builds, as does her fondness for the man in front of her. “God…”

Harry tweaks her hard nipple with his finger, gentle enough so as not to hurt her, but enough to make a gasp fall from her mouth.  He offers no response in the form of words, but the hungry look in his eyes has only increased.

“Let me…” Y/N climbs off of his lap, gently pushing him to lay back on the bed. “Yeah?”

Harry runs a hand through his messy curls, nodding quickly. “You want that?”

“Yeah.” Y/N nods too, pressing a wet kiss to his swollen lips. “So bad.  Yeah.”

Her hands move to the waistband of his shorts, and Harry lifts his hips off the bed.  Y/N tugs down his boxers in the same movement, and tosses both articles of clothing to the side before looking back at him.

Harry’s cock is just as beautiful as she remembers it being the morning she accidentally walked in on him. Even more so, she thinks, because now he’s hard, and the head is the most appetizing shade of pink, with drops of precum pearling at the top.  When Y/N wraps her hand around his girth, she adores the heat that she feels.  

“So pretty…” She says the words almost to herself, and strokes him lightly to get used to the feeling of him in her hand. “I just want to…”

Y/N leans down and flicks her tongue over his tip, collecting the precum gathered there.  In return, a strangled moan leaves Harry’s throat as his arm moves to cover his eyes for a moment.

Y/N presses a kiss to the head of his cock before she continues licking, reveling in the sounds Harry makes.  She had no doubt, with a voice as angelic as his, that his moans and whines and whimpers would be just as beautiful.

When she wraps her lips around the head and sucks, she feels Harry’s hand move to her hair.  She looks up at him without lifting off of his cock, staring him in the eye as she takes more and more of him into her mouth.

“Fuck—” Another moan leaves Harry’s lips, more strained than the last. “That’s it…” He tugs on her hair, but doesn’t push her down.  Even when lost in pleasure, he’s careful with her.

Y/N loves him for it.

Pacing herself, she takes more and more of him into her mouth until her nose is pressed to the base of his stomach, brushing against his (neatly trimmed) pubic hair.  She stays down for just a moment before pulling up completely to breathe, but keeps her hand on him, stroking him slowly.

“You look so good.” Harry mutters, running his hands over her hair in a soothing motion. “I imagined it, but didn’t think…so much better…”

Y/N moves to push her head back down, but Harry stops her, bringing her up for a kiss instead.

“I want to taste you, now.” He tells her, laying her down on the pillows. “Is that alright?”

Y/N nods desperately, feeling even more heat rush to her core and pool there. “Mhmm.”

Harry kisses his way down her body again, slipping his fingers into the waistband of her shorts. He leaves her panties on as he pulls the shorts down, and lets out a low groan at the sight of her pink Calvin Klein panties, and more specifically, the dark pink spot that’s apparent on them.

“You’re soaked…” He presses a kiss to her sensitive inner thigh before brushing a finger over the wet spot.

Y/N jumps a bit, making a sound in the back of her throat. “Harry!”

“Sorry.” He kisses her thigh again. “I’m sorry.  Just relax, yeah?  It’s just me. I got you.”

Harry continues to kiss along her inner thighs, moving closer and closer to the thin cloth covering her center.  When he presses his first kiss to the fabric, Y/N grasps the sheets in her hands.

“God…” She whispers, fists clenched.

Harry reaches up and takes one of her hands, placing it in his hair wordlessly before kissing over her again, his tongue peaking out just a bit.

The torture continues for what feels like forever, with Harry teasing her over the soaked fabric of her panties.  Finally, Y/N sighs in relief as she feels his hands grip the fabric, and she lifts her hips eagerly as he tugs the article of clothing down.

The first thing she feels is his hot breath hitting her core, which is enough to make her legs reflexively close with pleasure.  Harry’s hand grips her leg, pushing them back open as he takes in the sight of her dripping cunt before him.

“Fuck…” He inhales deeply, committing her scent to memory. “Your pussy is so gorgeous.”

Y/N whimpers at his words and tugs on his curls. “Please, H…I need you.”

“Need me?” Harry asks in a husky voice, his finger touching her outer lips just barely.

“Yes!” Y/N whines, not caring how she sounds. “Never needed anything more…”

Harry runs his finger over her slit, collecting the wetness dripping from her.  YN moans loudly at the contact, not fully relieved but grateful for the light touch.

“So fucking wet.” Harry’s voice sounds not completely his own. “Fuck, Y/N, how are you so wet?”

Y/N feels heat rush to her cheeks, and she mumbles her reply in what’s almost an embarrassed voice. “You know exactly how.”

“Don’t even know what to do first.” Harry ignores her reply, lost in his own world as he continues stroking her slit. “Just want…”

He presses into her without warning, and Y/N arches her back off the bed as Harry’s finger slips into her cunt.  His cold rings touch the top of her entrance as Harry pauses inside her, his eyes heavy with lust.

“And so tight.” He moans, biting his lip hard enough to leave a mark. “Oh my God…”

He curves his finger inside her, wanting to feel every inch of her that he can.  Y/N continues to whimper above him.

“More.” She begs him, pushing back against his finger. “I can take more, Harry, please.”

Harry easily slips enough finger in, repeating his motion as she pushes back on him.  However, the pressure building inside Y/N disappears abruptly as his fingers do, and she’s just about to get angry at him when she feels his tongue replace his fingers.

“Fuck!” She exclaims loudly, her eyes closing as she throws her head back. “Harry—!”

Harry moves his tongue in and out of her, loving the taste of her juices in his mouth.  He moves further up to her clit, licking and sucking over the sensitive bundle of nerves as Y/N writhes above him.

“Taste so good.” He growls from between her thighs. “Fuck, Y/N…you’re going to cum for me, yeah?” He asks as he reaches up and grips her hands in his, interlocking their fingers. “Tell me you’re going to cum for me.”

Another strangled moan leaves Y/N’s mouth as he speaks. “I-I’m so close, Harry. Keep going, please.”

“Tell me.” He demands, licking over her clit again. “Tell me you’re going to cum for me.”

Y/N grinds against his tongue as she grips his hands tighter. “I’m going—fuck—I’m going to cum for you, H.  I’m going—”

Harry sucks hard on her clit, and Y/N throws her head back as an orgasm hits her harder than ever before.  Her thighs clench shut, trapping Harry’s head between them, but he just continues to lap at the juices flowing from her cunt while making the most obscene sounds Y/N has ever heard.

Harry doesn’t pull back until Y/N unclenches her thighs, and before he does, he presses one last kiss to her clit, making her flinch.  

Y/N is so exhausted she can barely open her eyes.  Once she does, however, and sees Harry, she feels all the exhaustion fade.

Harry’s lips are, somehow, even more red than before, and his whole chin is slick with her wetness.  He keeps licking his lips, like he can’t get enough of the taste, and Y/N feels like her whole body is on fire.

“Harry…” She whispers, squeezing his hand again.  She doesn’t know what else to say.

Harry lifts himself over her body, which is still shaking from her orgasm, and kisses her gently.  She can taste herself on his mouth, and she adores it.

“You taste so fucking good.” He murmurs, pressing his sweaty forehead against hers. “Like candy.”

Y/N swallows hard. “I haven’t—no one’s done that in a long time.”

“I’ll be glad to do it again.” Harry replies, brushing her hair back. “But right now…all I want to do is make love to you.” He looks at her with sincere eyes. “Will you let me?”

The tenderness of him asking almost brings tears to her eyes, and Y/N nods, her hands coming up to cup his rosy cheeks. “Yeah, H.  I’m…” She bites her lip as she realizes the truth of her words. “I’m yours.  Always.”

Harry inhales sharply before kissing her softly, his hands stroking her hair in a comforting fashion again. “How do you want to…?”

“I want you on top.” Y/N replies, touching his swallow tattoos. “I-I want to feel you.  Feel your weight.  Feel you close.”

With a nod, Harry positions himself over her, spreading her legs wide enough that his body can fit between.  He holds himself up with one hand and uses the other to guide his cock to Y/N’s folds, just brushing the head over them.  He’s teasing himself just as much as her.

“Harry…” Y/N leans her head back at the sensation. “Please, H…”

“I don’t—wait—” Harry pauses his movements, and Y/N can see on his face the strength and discipline it takes for him to do so. “I—a condom—”

“I’m clean, and I have an IUD.” Y/N assures him, running her hand along his shoulders. “Are you?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I am, but—are you sure?”

As Y/N looks into his eyes, the love and concern and want written all over them, she knows she’s never been more sure of anything in her life. “I want to feel you, without anything in between.  I—” She takes a deep breath and presses a kiss to his jaw. “Yeah.  I’m sure.”

Harry presses a kiss to her forehead, and the tender action makes Y/N close her eyes as she revels in the feeling.  A moment later, Harry moves down again and puts his forehead against hers as he pushes into her.

The moment he enters her, Y/N feels a fullness she’s never experienced before.  Not only is Harry stretching her cunt in a way that feels euphoric, but she feels complete.  He’s as close to her as he’s ever been, his breath is mingling with hers, his body weight is held over her carefully, and Y/N thinks she could die in the pleasure of this moment happily.

“Y/N…baby…” The pet name seems to fall easily from Harry’s lips as he bottoms out, holding himself still to adjust to the feeling. “Oh my God…”

Y/N digs her fingernails into Harry’s shoulders, pressing kisses to his lips between gasps for breath. “Move, H, please.”

Harry begins to thrust his hips, setting a slow but deep pace before gradually speeding up.  While part of Y/N wishes he would thrust as fast as he can, a deeper part of her is grateful that Harry is taking his time with her.  This feeling, now that she has it, is better than anything she’d ever felt before, and Y/N doesn’t want it to end anytime soon.

Harry kisses Y/N again as he moves inside her.  Although they’re as close as they’ve ever been, each of them keeps pulling the other closer.  As Harry thrusts deeper, Y/N pulls more of his weight down on her.  As Y/N scratches her nails down his back, Harry kisses her jaw. Neither of them can process exactly what they’re doing, but neither of them can stop.  Each touch is tender, each kiss is passionate, and each moment brings them closer together in so many more ways than just physical.

They don’t speak except for the occasional whisper from Y/N for Harry to move faster, or the occasional moan of Y/N’s name falling from Harry’s lips. The only constant sounds in the room are of the slickness between Y/N’s thighs as Harry moves between them, the sound of his skin meeting hers, both of them panting and moaning, and a few whispers of “please” that are barely audible.  Despite the lack of speech, however, the two are in constant communication.  Kissing, biting, scratching, and squeezing have become the vocabulary of their new language.  When Harry looks into Y/N’s wet eyes, he knows that she feels something running through the very depths of her being.  When Y/N feels Harry tuck his head between her neck and her shoulder as he whimpers, she knows that he trusts her to comfort him and hold him there.

Soon, Y/N feels the waves of pleasure begin to build, and she knows that when they finally break, they’ll pull her under. “H, I—fuck—I—” She can’t manage to form the sentence she needs to.

Harry, however, can tell exactly what she’s going to say. “Please.” He pants, adoring how she buries her head into his shoulder. “Please, love, cum for me…” He kisses over the shell of her ear as he thrusts deeper. “Need you.”

Y/N whimpers, biting down on Harry’s shoulder as her orgasm rolls over her. Harry feels her walls tighten around his cock, but he doesn’t slow down, and he works her through her climax until she whines in his ear.

“So good, H…” Y/N can barely find the strength to whisper the phrase.

Hearing her sound so fucked out, feeling her cunt squeezing him, and seeing the euphoria on her face is enough to bring Harry to the edge.  He slows his thrusts, about to pull out, but Y/N presses on his back to keep him close.

Harry groans as a shiver rolls through his body. “I’m about to cum, Y/N—”

“Stay inside me.” She pleads, pressing the pads of her fingers between his shoulder blades. “I-I’m yours, Harry, I told you.  Yours.”

Y/N looks up at him with such trusting and vulnerable eyes that Harry can’t make himself argue with her.  He nods instead, his thrusts increasing in speed again until he feels himself reach the edge of pleasure.  

As he freefalls into Y/N, his hips stutter, and he presses deep inside her while her name falls from his lips over and over again.  He can’t think of anything else to say.  He can’t think of anything else worth saying.

When Harry finally manages to pull himself together enough to pull out, Y/N instantly feels the emptiness inside her.  She wishes he would stay, but knows that it’s not practical, and instead just relishes in the feeling of his cum dripping from her entrance.  It’s like he’s claimed her as his, left a physical mark of himself, and Y/N doesn’t have the strength to stop herself from loving it.

They lay in silence for a few moments, trying to catch their breath and regain a sense of where they are.  Both Harry and Y/N are sweaty, exhausted, and covered in each other in more ways than one.  The wrap on Harry’s tattoo has slipped from his arm.  Somewhere in their pleasure, Y/N has lost an earring.  And yet, the only thing each of them cares about is looking at the other.

Out of instinct, Harry pulls Y/N’s shivering body into his, wrapping his arms around her tightly.  He can’t imagine she’s cold, and Y/N can’t bring herself to tell him she’s shivering because of the feeling of being so close to him, but neither of them denies the other of the affectionate gesture.

Y/N loses track of how long they lay there until Harry breaks the silence.

“I—” His voice cracks, and he clears it quickly before trying again. “I’ll get you a cloth to—to clean you up.”

Y/N nods, and Harry gently untangles himself from her before going to the bathroom.  Y/N can hear the running of water, and turns her head to see what he’s doing, but when she spots his naked silhouette, she closes her eyes.  Despite what they just did, there’s a shyness in her still when she sees him completely stripped.

Her eyes stay closed, and she only detects his return from feeling his weight return to the bed.  He places a gentle hand on her trembling knee, pulling her open ever so slightly.

“’M just cleaning you up.” Harry says in a quiet tone. “Is that okay?”

Y/N nods again.  She’s not certain she has enough strength to say anything.

Harry wipes between her legs with a gentle touch, watching how she flinches at the slightest of pressure. “I’m sorry.” He says sincerely, kissing her knee tenderly before continuing. “You’re sensitive, I know.  Almost done.”

Once he finishes wiping away the cum dripping out of her (his cum dripping out of her), Harry tosses the cloth onto his pile of clothes on the ground, deciding it can be dealt with later.  His most pressing concern at the moment is Y/N.

He lays back down on his side so he can face her, and pushes a lock of hair away from her closed eyes.

“Y/N.” Harry murmurs, hand resting on her waist carefully. “Talk to me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is rough when she answers, and Harry can hear the echo of her moans in her words. “I-I’m fine, H.  Just…tired.”

“Do you…” Harry bites his lip. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Y/N gives a slight shake of her head. “Maybe—maybe tomorrow, yeah?” She does her best to open one eye, but quickly shuts it again when she sees how Harry is looking at her. “Can’t right now.”

“Okay.” Harry lays his arm over her side as he moves closer. “Tomorrow.”

Y/N presses her head into his shoulder and commits the scent of his skin to memory.

…

The first thing Y/N registers when she wakes up is the feeling of someone touching her hair.

She doesn’t need to open her eyes to know it’s Harry.  Of course it’s Harry.  It’s always been Harry.  In every way.

Y/N sighs and readjusts her position in bed, moving a bit closer to Harry.  She shivers once from the cold, still naked from last night’s activities, and that’s the only hint Harry needs before he pulls the sheet up around her more.

“Are you awake?” He asks softly, careful in case she’s still lost deep in sleep.

Y/N moves her head in a passable nodding motion, and her voice is thick with sleep when she answers. “Mhmm.  Barely.”

A low chuckle escapes from Harry’s mouth, and the next thing Y/N feels are his warm lips against her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“A little hungover.  A little sore.” Y/N finally opens her eyes as she speaks, and almost wishes she hadn’t.

Harry’s hair is a mess from both sex and sleep, messy and wild and haphazardly pushed out of his eyes. His cheeks are flushed, and his neck and chest are covered in marks from both Y/N’s lips and fingers.  She knows that if he turned over, his back would be the same, and it embarrasses her and delights her at the same time.  He looks completely fucked and content, and more relaxed than she’s seen him in ages.

Y/N wonders if she looks the same.  If she looks as pretty.

“Sorry.” Harry says, his tone a bit sheepish.

“It’s not your fault.” Y/N replies, shrugging a bit.

“Well…it is, actually.  I made your drinks.  And I…” He trails off, brushing his fingers down her bare hip to her thigh.

“Yeah.” Y/N feels her face get warm. “I guess it is your fault.”

Harry laughs lightly, but it fades away as he looks into her eyes. “We, uh…we should probably talk about what happened.”

Y/N purses her lips. “Yeah. We should.”

“So…first question, I guess.” Harry props his head up on his arm, but keeps running his fingers over Y/N’s hip gently. “Do you regret it?”

Y/N sits up a bit more in bed, clutching the sheet to her bare chest. “No.  I don’t.  Do you?”

“No.” Harry replies instantly. “I don’t regret it.”

“Okay.” Y/N is so aware of Harry’s eyes on her as she thinks of her question. “Did…did you enjoy it?”

A snort falls from Harry’s mouth, and he shakes his head incredulously. “Christ, Y/N, of course I enjoyed it.  It felt—you felt like heaven.”

Y/N flushes at the comment. “I’ve never…I’ve always made my partners wear condoms.  So that was a first for me.”

Harry’s fingers pause over her hip, but only for a moment.  It looks as though he’s deciding whether or not he should comment on that, but changes his mind at the last moment. “Did you enjoy it?” He asks instead, echoing your question.

“I did.”

“You said you were mine.”

Y/N swallows hard. This conversation is less incriminating than making love to him last night, but it seems infinitely more powerful. Probably because they’re both sober, she thinks.

“That—” She clears her throat. “That’s not a question.”

Harry sighs, but there’s an endeared smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You said you were mine. Did you mean that?”

Y/N can’t look him in the eyes, so she looks down instead.  Harry’s hand lies between them, and she intertwines their fingers, playing with his rings as she carefully formulates her answer. “I’ve—I’ve always been yours, H.  Ever since we were kids, I’ve belonged to you.” She runs a finger over his H ring. “Even when you were gone.”

Harry frowns a bit at the tone of her voice. “I’ve been yours too, Y/N.  I belong to you just as much as you belong to me.”

“You’ve always been further out of reach.” Y/N pulls her hand from his, until their fingertips are just barely touching. “Always just…a little out of reach.”

Harry intertwines their fingers again. “I’m not out of reach.  Not right now.  And I’ve never—if you ever called me and said you needed me, I would’ve been on the first flight back home to you.  I would’ve dropped everything for you, Y/N.  I still would, and I always will.”

Tears prick Y/N’s eyes, and although she hurries to close them, one slips out.  Harry catches it on his finger before it can run off her cheek, and when she looks at him again, there’s a concerned look on his face.

“C’mere.” Harry mumbles, pulling Y/N into a tight hug.  He rubs her back like he always does, and the motion is so comforting that she almost forgets the vulnerable position they’re both in. “You’re my girl.  You’re always going to be my girl.” He murmurs in her ear, voice low and soothing. “Always.  Don’t you know that?”

Y/N nods, not trusting her voice at the moment.

“If this is too much for you…” Harry traces his fingers between her shoulder blades.  Y/N thinks he’s tracing words, like they used to as children, but she can’t tell what words he may be tracing. “I understand. We can just—we can pretend it didn’t happen.”

“I—” Y/N shakes her head, looking up at Harry. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Then what do you want, Y/N?” Harry asks, his tone as pleading as it was last night. “All I’ve ever tried to do is give you what you want, and usually I’m pretty good at telling what that is, but right now, I’m lost.  I don’t want things to go back to how they were, but I don’t—I can’t lose you, so just—if you just tell me what you want, I’ll do it.  I’ll make it work.  I promise that I won’t be mad, or hurt, or anything.”

Y/N sits up as best she can, her fingers combing through Harry’s messy curls on reflex, as she always does it when he gets upset. “I can’t pretend that I don’t want you, H.  I do.  I need you.  I told you that last night.”

“But you’re crying.” Harry cups her wet cheek gently, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone. “I hate that.”

Y/N leans into his touch. “It just feels…strange.” She says after a moment. “All of this.  I spent so long trying to stop myself from thinking of you like this, and now that I am, I feel like—like it’s wrong.”

Harry tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth. “Does it feel wrong?”

His low voice makes her shiver. “No.  It feels right.  Really right.”

“I feel like…” Harry’s eyes flicker between Y/N’s own eyes and their intertwined hands. “I feel like we’re both dancing around saying it.”

Y/N sucks in a breath. “Saying what?”

“Saying…” Harry leans in and presses a soft kiss to her lips. “Saying that we’re in love with each other.”

Y/N feels breathless at the words coming from his mouth. “You’re in love with me?”

“Are you not in love with me?” He replies, moving so he’s leaning over her more. “We’ve said I love you so many times before.”

“That’s a different kind of love.” Y/N mumbles, touching the chain dangling from Harry’s neck.

“But we were both meaning something different when we were saying it.  At least, I was.” Harry inhales deeply, like he’s centering himself. “I’ve known…for a while, but I’ve felt it for longer than I’ve known it. And I thought that you might…”

“I think I do.” Y/N whispers. “But saying it feels so—so permanent.  Like we can’t go back to being friends if it blows up in our faces.”

Harry traces a finger down Y/N’s cheek, her neck, between her breasts, to her side, touching just below her ribs. “Maybe we can’t.  But I don’t think we’ll want to, Y/N.  I think we’re perfect for each other.”

Y/N’s heart pounds in her chest. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods. “This last month, it’s been like we’ve been…playing house, or something.  I’ve loved it.  I keep hearing from friends saying that they’re so sick of the person they’re living with, so tired of them, but I’ve never felt that way about you, and I don’t think I ever will.  I’ll never get sick of you.”

Y/N laughs a bit. “That’s romantic.”

“Shut up.” Harry can’t help but smile slightly. “It is romantic.”

“Yeah.  It is.” Y/N says softly, her hand rubbing over Harry’s tattooed arm. “You’re really in love with me?”

Harry nods. “I am.”

“Huh.” Y/N bites her lip. “So I guess we’ve been lying to our moms, haven’t we?”

Harry laughs loudly, collapsing on the bed next to Y/N. “Jesus, can you not mention our mums when we’re naked in bed?”

“I’m just saying!  We’ve been saying for years that you’re not in love with me, and it’s all been a lie.”

“What about when they ask if you’re in love with me?” Harry’s tone is joking, but there’s a hint of nervousness in the back of his voice. “Has that been a lie, too?”

Y/N’s heart pounds as she nods. “Yeah.  We’ll have to get them something really good for Mother’s Day this year to help make up for it.”

A grin spreads over Harry’s face, almost triumphant, as he leans down to kiss her. “Agreed.” He moves to cage himself over Y/N. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“I want to hear you say that you’re in love with me.” Harry’s grin turns into a smirk.

Y/N flushes as she shakes her head. “You say it first.”

“I’ve already admitted it!”

“So have I!”

“Not as well as I have!”

“Oh, so it’s a competition now?” Y/N scoffs. “What a wonderful start to our relationship.”

“I’m just saying, Y/N, admitting it is the first step to—”

“Are you seriously going to say that to get me to say that I love you?”

“Just—”

“You’re so irritating—”

“I’m irritating?  You—”

“You’re the worst!”

“And yet you’re in my bed with no clothes on!”

“Okay.  Nope.  Relationship over.” Y/N pushes Harry off of her and wraps the sheet around herself as she gets out of bed. “You blew it, Styles.”

“Y/N.” Laughter falls from Harry’s lips as he leans over the edge of the bed. “Love.  Come back to bed.”

“I think a minute and thirty-seven seconds may be the record for the world’s shortest relationship.” Y/N searches her bag for some clean clothes.

“Come here!”

“Another world record for Harry Styles.” Y/N calls to him without turning around. “You must be so proud—”

Her words are cut off in a shriek as Harry picks her up, throwing her over his shoulder as he brings her back to his bed.

“Harry!” She yells, hitting his arm. “Put me down!”

Harry tosses her on the bed, gentle enough so as not to hurt her, and cages himself over her sheet-covered body.  He’s still completely bare. “Take it back.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Fine. We’re still together.  One less record for you.”

“Good.  Now…” Harry brushes a finger over her lips. “Say you’re in love with me.”

Y/N’s laughter fades a bit as the nerves set back in. “I…”

“Please, Y/N?” Harry murmurs, leaning down to kiss her neck. “Please say it.”

“I’m—” Y/N sucks in a quick breath, and all of her protest leaves her body as she exhales. “I’m in love with you, Harry.”

She can feel Harry’s lips forming a grin against her neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Y/N tugs on his hair gently, just enough so she can pull his head back to look in his eyes. “Now you say it.”

“Y/N.” Harry says her name like it’s something precious. “I’m in love with you.”

A flush of pleasure crawls up Y/N’s spine at his words, but she does her best to keep her tone light-hearted. “So are you calling our moms, or am I?”

“I’ll do it.” Harry reaches for his phone on the bedside table. “And I’ll be sure to mention how it took us getting drunk and having sex to realize—”

“Harry!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell your mum we used a condom—”

“I’ll kill you, Styles, and I’ll make it look like an accident.” Y/N shoves his shoulder hard.

Harry grins at her. “Now that’s romantic.”

[cc-mr-vip]

Season 3 Initial Thoughts

- ℂ𝔸𝕄ℙ ℂℝ𝔼𝕋𝔸ℂ𝔼𝕆𝕌𝕊 𝕊ℙ𝕆𝕀𝕃𝔼ℝ𝕊 𝔸ℍ𝔼𝔸𝔻-

Holy shit, this Season was a doozy. I absolutely loved this season. It was a lot more intense than both Season 1 and 2, but had the realism from Season 1 that I loved so much.

Also I was fucking wrong, boys. Well not completely. I did make the prediction that they’ve been on the island for at least 2 months, because for some reason that was a reasonable number in my head. A nice believable number for the kids to have survived and did all they did, but six months!? Like half a year!? They would have been 1.5 years away from getting blown up from the volcano in JW2. Bruh...

The Scorpius Rex probably had the most terrifying design I had ever seen for a hybrid dinosaur. It felt way more threatening than both the Indominus and Indoraptor, probably because of it’s very odd hodgepodge of a design. I also love the twist of it being extremely unstable and causing other dinosaurs to lash out after being poisoned. Having this thing chase around the kids was definitely terrifying to say the least. Also wasn’t expecting Sammy to get spiked by the poison too (and turn an odd shade of green, sorta narmy lmao). I knew she wasn’t going to die, but I wasn’t expecting a nice squick shot of the quills in her abdomen that was a fun treat.

Also finally! Kenji, my boy, finally has some character backstory and development! I will probably do a more deeper analysis on Kenji’s drawing of his family, but is already kinda confirmed what kind of person his father is. He didn’t care enough about his son to want to put pictures of him on the wall, only himself. It makes sense why Kenji was so self absorbed as well. I found it pretty heartbreaking that Kenji risked his life to try rescue his father’s “precious” art statue. I’m not sure if he tried to rescue it because he was scared of his father scolding him or if he just wanted to bring it back for his father for a pat on the back. Either way, it’s just brings up sad implications all around. 

Honestly Kenji had some absolutely great development this season, in my opinion, way more so than the others had and way more interesting too. I think the episode that really marked a change in Kenji was Episode 5 (Eye of the Storm), when Kenji took it upon himself to be in charge of packing. For most of the episode, he was acting like typical Kenji, but he began to take his job way more seriously when it came to the safety of his friends. When Darius took after Ben, he properly took charge of the group (nice contrast to Season 1 where he was more nonchalant about it and tried to pass off responsibility). It was around this point that we didn’t see Kenji acting all high and haughty anymore, he was fully devoted to saving his friends.

I definitely wasn’t expecting Kenji to run off with the laptop to make the trade and save Brooklynn. The boy tried to fight a man with a loaded gun to save his friend, how foolish and brave of him to try do so. It was amazing to see Kenji, who spent most of the series cowering behind others, fully devoting himself to protecting Brooklynn in the finale (leading her to safety and shielding her with his own body). I do think that Kenji has some issues regarding losing friends; I think that the Camp Fam really is the first friends he’s ever gotten, which is why losing them hurt him so much (Sammy’s faux death and Brooklynn getting kidnapped). 

The way at the end when Kenji refused to forgive and accept the idea that they were going to risk Brooklynn’s safety over the laptop...it was a very mature way to handle that situation. Pragmatically, Kenji was absolutely right, they shouldn’t be risking their lives over a stinkin’ laptop. It’s not they’re responsibility, they’re just kids. But his friends were good people and Kenji played along, but decided to take matters into his own hands. His friends are important to him and he’s going to do anything to keep them safe. 

From haughty jock who only seemed to care about himself to a team member willing to risk everything to keep everyone safe, Kenji really has grown so much as a character.

All in all, I’m surprised the kids actually made it off the island this time. My friends and I were placing bets on whether or not they would make it off the island this season. Everyone had voted that they wouldn’t, but they did...hopefully? They got a stowaway so I’m wondering how they’re going to deal with that. Go back to the island? Keep going? Clearly it all isn’t over because Kenji’s character arc isn’t quite solved yet. I wonder how many more season CC will have. I do enjoy the series, but there’s only so much they can keep right?

This initial thoughts ended up more of a Kenji reaction post, so I’ll dedicate the end here to some other thoughts I had overall:

Yasmina and Sammy’s friend-(or maybe more)-ship was really cute and wholesome. I found Yasmina’s chumminess afterwards Hello-Zuko-Here levels of second hand embarrassment xD (Are they a maybe-couple? When Brooklynn mentioned crushes that Sammy might’ve had she mentioned Yaz lmao).

Thank god, Bumpy didn’t die. She has her own family now...for at least 1.5 more years until the volcano explodes...

Ben, you stupid child, of course you want to get off the island. I would have knocked you out and dragged you on the boat myself.

It was nice of the pilot and mercenary to board the kids upon finding out they were children. Even though they died / ended up splitting up the kids, the meant well.

I can’t believe Dr. Wu was in this season. He isn’t as much as a bad guy as I thought. He still left the kids, but at least he didn’t...kill them? Set the bar too low maybe?

And that’s all for now. This being a chock-full Kenji season, I’ll probably be doing some analysis or posts on him, but thought I’d make a reaction post with all my initial thoughts for now!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 328: Pandora’s Box of Discourse

Previously on BnHA: DEKU TOOK A BATH.

Today on BnHA: 

Also Naomasa grew a beard. Goddamn. 

please let this be a cool chapter that plays nice with my ADHD lol

(ETA: lol I feel guilty because a lot of people hated this chapter, but I’m just happy there was a lot of stuff to make fun of, and also that I have another week to work on my backlog of meta posts since the kids were MIA.)

around one month ago?? ah, okay, so we’re gonna find out what was in that Tartarus security file huh

I love that they just randomly set the place on fire

was it necessary to do this in order to escape? no. was it a good idea to set the island they were occupying on fire while they were in the midst of still occupying it? uh. was it cinematic as fuck? fuck yeah

wow it’s a pervert!!

that’s so great that the villains set loose this fine fellow who I’m sure is definitely not a serial rapist. truly the LoV is so noble and misunderstood. they’re just trying to free society from its chains people

oh my god??!

SHANKED!!! oh my god I cheered for Stain before I realized what I was doing. time to have an identity crisis I guess

so he’s all “hey what’s going on.” which, while a respectable question, is something I personally would have waited to ask until I had put a bit of distance between myself and the fiery murder island. but that’s just my personal preference

Stain you really are tenacious I’ll give you that

“what’s the point of escaping prison if you’re not gonna be smart about it” well shit. anyways yeah you’re dead right, society is in the process of collapsing and the outside world is in total chaos, good call there

oh shit

I mean it’s not like we really expecting anything otherwise, but still. fucking brutal. I feel like these guys’ fates were decided the minute that one guy called AFO “scum” back in chapter 94. AFO is unmatched at getting long-term revenge

??

ahh, was it the security footage??

fdsdfk he’s still alive??

and he’s immediately launching into an inappropriately theatrical monologue even as the darkness closes in on him fdlfksjdlk. you know, was it ever confirmed that the other guy back in chapter 297 was Seiji’s dad? I’m just saying

very impressed that he’s still coherent enough to weigh the pros and cons before making the decision to gamble on giving this info to Stain, who at the very least has his own moral code and isn’t allied with AFO. it was definitely still a risk, but as we now know it was also the right call

what a weird alliance. so Stain tells him that he’ll give it to a just person, and the guy is all,

okay for real though I’m gonna need someone to run a DNA test on this guy. maybe it was some kind of cuckold situation?? the other guy had the family resemblance, but this guy absolutely 100% raised Shishikura Seiji and you are not going to convince me otherwise

anyway, so Stain is all,

PRISON GUARD: “???? ??????? what the hell. what the fuck does that fucking mean. I’m dying here, jesus christ, whatever man fuck you”

(ETA: I kind of feel like this might have been Stain’s last appearance in the manga, given all the fanfare. there’s not really much else he can do for the story at this point, and he seems to have gotten all the character development Horikoshi was planning on giving him. so if this really is it, hasta la vista and good riddance I guess.)

DWLFDKSLDK MEANWHILE, OUTSIDE

(ETA: I feel like this is meant to be evocative of that Sermon on the Mount painting, but in a really fucked up way lol.)

if it were me stumbling upon this scene I would just shake my head and walk right back into the flaming building. not getting involved in that mess. sorry not sorry. I’ll take my chances with the fire, especially given that it’s half-assed neutered BnHA fire lol

blah blah blah and so he decided to pass the info on to All Might -- HOT DAMN, HOLY SHIT

NAOMASA HOLY SHIT. THE APOCALYPSE LOOKS GOOD ON YOU, BOY

“I really like that facial scruff thing Aizawa’s got going on, I think I’m gonna get in on that” yes sir. “also thinking of ditching the tie in favor of the bulletproof vest look. also thinking of getting totally fucking jacked.” good lord. except I’m pretty sure that’s just body armor, but also I don’t care. anyway I should probably stop staring and actually read the fucking speech bubbles here lol

“All Might first handed this information over to Nao, and then went to see Deku, and then came back to Nao” thanks for that tidy little summary Horikoshi. we are capable of piecing events together in sequential order, I just want you to know that. but thank you

“so has Deku finally gotten a bath? also, sucks that Stain saved the day, but what are you gonna do” Nao I missed you so fucking much and didn’t even realize. how am I just now realizing that you are the perfect man

for a second I was gonna ask why Tartarus’s security systems would be cut off from the outside world, and then I remembered that’s a basic security control, and then I actually got impressed by how sensible that is. like, it’s been a while since I could genuinely say that the good guys (excluding class 1-A) did something smart. not that it helped them much in the end, but still

anyway so they’re talking about how AFO was able to coordinate the attack by communicating between his horcrux self on the outside and his ugly peanut-faced self on the inside

huh

okay you have my attention. I am taking notes here lol please continue

ah okay so he says that prior to Jakku, the transfer of information between him and his Vestige self was only one-way. but post-Jakku when Deku was in the hospital, he was able to tell what was happening inside the OFA Radical Lisa Frank Dead People Book Club Realm when he touched him. I feel like we established that before, actually. but he didn’t talk about how it actually felt, though

boy we already know this lol. yes AFO can talk with his horcrux self. and he can also communicate with his little bro in OFA too, let’s talk about that sometime why don’t we. what exactly does that imply, based on the rules we’ve established here

my god I cannot get over Naomasa and his fucking facial hair

no wonder All Might was in such a hurry to leave Deku and get back here

like I have no idea what this radio waves nonsense is but my god, people

that jawline. also so it’s a quirk, I see. except last I checked Deku didn’t have a radio waves quirk, so that doesn’t really explain his connection to AFO. but whatever, hopefully we’re at least getting closer to some kind of reveal here

(ETA: since I sometimes forget that other people’s lives don’t revolve around my theory posts, here are the two relevant links if you by chance want to know my thoughts about this.

Hagakure is still The U.A. Traitor™ regardless of whether Deku is passing information on to AFO through his psychic link, which he almost certainly is.

speaking of said psychic link, Deku is a horcrux.

just posting these now, because whenever trippy OFA stuff happens I tend to get an influx of theory asks. so hopefully this will be a bit of a time saver lol.)

-- wait, what

THAT’S what the recording was??!? holy SHIT. I genuinely was not expecting that. y’all wiretapped his fucking telepathy. fucking quirks, man. wild

AND THEY USED THAT POWER TO DETERMINE WHAT WE ALREADY KNEW, HUZZAH. GOOD SHOW

-- oh shit wait lol, except I forgot we’re not talking about 38 days from the present, we’re talking about 38 days from the date the conversation was recorded. heh. um

yeah that’s the face I would make too if All Fucking Might just casually told me we had eight days left until the end times

oh, pardon me. three fucking days

r.i.p. anyone who thought we were going to have another band arc sob. I sure hope Deku is enjoying that nap

(ETA: I realize people were hoping for a longer rest period here, but given that the man warned us all the way back in chapter 306 that we were entering the final act, you can’t really blame him too much when that turns out to be true. anyway but I do recognize that we’ve reached the point in the story where this kind of discourse is going to become a weekly occurrence, simply because there’s no possible way for Horikoshi’s actual endgame to line up perfectly with the variable headcanons of millions of fans, all of whom have wildly differing and in many cases contradictory expectations which can’t possibly all be fulfilled. anyway, so I’m already bracing myself for that lol. this coming year is going to be a wild ride.)

damn, U.A. out here looking like the motherfucking United Nations

-- is this U.A.?? I actually just realized, U.A. is four interconnected buildings, not two. wait holy shit is this Shiketsu?

wait holy SHIT

based on the overwhelmingly powerful vibes of bureaucratic incompetence, I’m thinking this really is the (future) U.N., or whatever organization it is that deals with international hero stuff

“just let them handle it themselves I’m sure they’ll be fine” yeah okay, thanks guys. appreciate it

wait oh shit did he say that it’s not just Japan?

soooo, what you’re telling me is that AFO is this close to bringing about the end of not just Japan, but the entire world, and you guys don’t think it’s a good idea to help the Japanese heroes stop him? so, genuine follow-up question: are you guys already planning your rich people exodus into space a la Wall-E, and that’s why you don’t give a fuck?? like, what??

omg international heroes

these guys are from World Hoodie Mission, right? is this Horikoshi’s way of reminding me to buy tickets

(ETA: and it worked too lol.)

WHO??? WHAT???

don’t tell me you’re introducing yet another badass new female character for me to fall in love with only to watch as you dismember them and/or blow them up, Horikoshi. I’m getting tired of playing this game my dude. don’t lie and tell me this time will be different. we’re not doing this again goddammit

noooooooooooooooooooo

god fucking dammit lmao. [sighs and rips the previous paragraph into shreds]

on behalf of Americans I apologize for our superheroes always being Like This

I also apologize because I love her already and I’m gonna be shameless about it. so fucking shameless you guys

is her fucking hair red white and blue. it is, isn’t it

this is the volume cliffhanger, 100% lol. it will take every ounce of Horikoshi’s willpower not to put her on the volume cover. he’ll have to settle for the spine or the inner cover this time because Deku VS his class 1-a superpals takes precedence. but it will be a close thing let me tell you

tbh it’s that smile that does it for me. she’s definitely All Might’s protege. get out there and show them how it’s done girl. and maybe call Salaam and BRD and see if you can’t convince them to play hooky from their governments as well. why not. world’s ending in three days you guys. “sorry, I’m busy this weekend” ain’t gonna cut it lol

so while I am not fully caught up with Vigilantes, I have read far enough to know that there’s an American hero named Captain Celebrity whose superpower from what I recall is being a humongous douchebag. and while I haven’t read far enough to know what happens to this guy, I can’t say I’m very disappointed to learn that he’s no longer the number one hero in the U.S. (actually, didn’t they kick him out and that’s why he moved to Japan to begin with?). anyway, so my thanks to Horikoshi for having a marginally higher opinion of Americans than Furuhashi, even though we have definitely not done anything to warrant said opinion lately, and you may have inadvertently opened the door to a pandora’s box of discourse lmao

(ETA: lol I went into the tags and they don’t disappoint. “why is she dressed like a flag” because she’s an homage to Captain America and Major Victory and literally every other character on this list. again, I apologize for fictional American superheroes being Like This. “oh boy another thicc waifu to make the fanboys happy�� look, tumblr fandom never seems to have a problem thirsting over Dabi or Tomura or Aizawa or Nao, lol, I’m just saying. “where is Captain Celebrity” idk, probably murdered by the exploding bee cartel, let’s just be grateful for our good fortune and try not to Beetlejuice the man.)

anyway, so let’s see if Horikoshi’s recent character development with regards to making Mineta not terrible anymore will apply to other aspects of his writing as well. I know I was making light of discourse just now, but I do think the complaints about him introducing yet another new character at the 11th hour to be cannon fodder in the final battle are absolutely valid. and again, it wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t keep maiming/killing off his female characters one by one instead of developing them and letting them kick ass long-term. but that said, I will never complain about Horikoshi adding another female character to the series, regardless of how clumsy the attempt may be. go ahead and pander away, just give us more girl power lol

anyway so we’ll see how it goes, but I think I’m gonna be optimistic and let myself hope once again, even though I’m probably gonna regret it lol. it is what it is. she is standing on an airplane just chilling for fuck’s sake. I’m only human. anyway fingers crossed

[griffintail]

I had this idea, I dunno if it’s dumb or not, but I figured if anyone knew it would be you! Y’know, cause you seem like you know way more than me about all these mcyt guys and gals? Anyways, I saw that a lot of people headcanon that Shlatt was Tubbo’s dad, and seeing all those dad!Shlatt AUs gave me an idea:

What if after Shlatt’s dead, after things have settled, after Tubbo becomes president and spends most of his time cleaning up the messes and mistakes Shlatt left behind- he discovers he wasn’t Shlatt’s only child. He finds handwritten letters in Shlatt’s files from a distant village, all of them fairly recent, asking him for child support money, or asking him to take “his mistake” with him. But the last letter Tubbo finds is a typed one informing Shlatt that the woman who sent all the previous letters has died, and that he has 1 month to come collect his child, or they’ll become a ward of the state; it’s been roughly 2 and a half weeks since that letter arrived. How would Tubbo react to all of this, and more importantly, would he take on the responsibility of becoming his new sibling’s guardian?

I don’t know how I became the person to come to for this lol. I hope you enjoy!

The Girl with the Horns

Pairings: Brother! Tubbo x Child! F! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of emotional abuse, Implied Buillying, Swearing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        Tubbo looked up the old White House building, taking a deep breath before going in. Inside, he immediately scrunched up his nose at the familiar smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke.

        “Damn it, dad.” He muttered under his breath before starting to clean up the building.

        He said he’d clean the building out himself as his father was the one who trashed it and now was that day. A lot of his presidency was cleaning up Schlatt’s mistakes before he even ran the rest of his new country. He sighed as he put another empty bottle in a trash bag. Schlatt had really lost it running things.

        Slowly but surely, Tubbo was able to get the White House to a much cleaner state. He was now in the main office and was searching the drawers for his father's inevitable “secret” booze stashes when he found some handwritten letters tucked in the very back of the drawer. Frowning, Tubbo took them out and saw them all addressed to Schlatt.

        Sitting down, Tubbo read the letter on top and his eyes went wide, back going straight as he reread the words before him.

        I want money for this child you helped bring into this world!

        A child?

        The rest of the letter was talking about asking for child support and Tubbo was floored. Quickly, he read the next letter and it was much of the same, demanding Schlatt to take responsibility.

        “Holy shit…” Tubbo muttered. “I got…I got a sibling?”

        He made his way through the rest of the letters, his heart clenching when the woman writing the letters called his poor sibling a mistake or made stabs at Schlatt.

        Then the last letter was a lot more formal. It was stamped with an official seal and dated. Schlatt had opened it as told by the broken seal but had obviously also put the letter back without a care after reading. Tubbo’s breath hitched as he read the letter though.

          Dear Mr. Jschlatt:

        We are sorry to inform you Miss Trentha has passed in an accident.

        Behind, she has left a five-year-old (Y/N), of which in our records has your name on her birth papers. We will give you a month’s time to make a decision; after, we will have no choice but to send (Y/N) to become a ward of the state.

                Tubbo quickly looked at the date of when the letter was sent.

        “Two and a half weeks!” Tubbo exclaimed as he jumped up. “Shit! What should I do?”

        He looked around the office he had spent time cleaning trying to process everything at once, words failing him. In a few short moments, he had found out he wasn’t an only child, that Schlatt hadn’t even looked back at this girl or her horrible mother, and that the sibling he just found out about was going to become a ward of the state! Schlatt had at least been kind enough to Tubbo to let Philza raise him but this child going into the adoption system…

        “I-I got to run L’Manberg. There’s so much to do.” Tubbo ran a hand through his hair as he panicked.

        But then Tommy’s words echoed in his head.

        You can’t become the next Schlatt.

        Schlatt was obviously going to let this child fend for themselves, Tubbo couldn’t be his father. He had to at least meet them. With a new will, he gathered around his friends, and with reassurances that they had L’Manberg covered, Tubbo set off on a horse to the village. It was a good three-day journey, so he’d only have roughly a week left to make his decision of what he was going to do.

        Coming to the village, Tubbo took a deep breath as he stared at it. What was she going to be like? She probably didn’t have the best raising based on the letters that the mother sent. Tying up the horse outside the main hall, Tubbo went in, going through the various processes to prove that he was indeed Jschlatt’s child and proving that his father was dead.

        After, they took Tubbo to a home where a bunch of children were outside playing but there was one that stood out among them and it wasn’t because she was sitting alone. It was because she had tiny horns on top of her head that were just starting to come in. Tubbo put a hand on his horns that were just starting to curl without thinking.

        “That’s (Y/N).” The man that led him here nodded to the little girl.

        “She’s five, right?” Tubbo asked.

        “Yes. She’s not very talkative, but you can introduce yourself to her.”

        Tubbo had few guesses why she didn’t want to talk. He went over, a few of the other kids were pointing at him. (Y/N) was using a stick to push images in the dirt, looking up when a shadow got in the way of the sun. Tubbo smiled when he saw her surprise when she looked up at him, he sitting next to her, wearing his casual wear rather than his suit.

        “Hi. I’m Tubbo.” He introduced himself to her.

        (Y/N) was silent as she stared obviously at his horns. “You have horns…”

        “Yeah, I do. I’m a ram just like you.”

        “Really?” She met his eyes now.

        “Mhm. I, uh, I actually knew your dad because he was my dad.”

        She shifted as she looked back at the ground. “Daddy was a bad man.”

        Tubbo winced, putting a hand on his neck. “Why do you say that?”

        “Mommy use to say that.”

        “Ah. Well…dad wasn’t the greatest, I agree. It wasn’t nice for him to leave you alone.”

        The little girl was silent and Tubbo tried to think of a subject change.

        “Do you like drawing?”

        She nodded. “Mommy wouldn’t let me use paper but I like drawing in the dirt.”

        “Oh…do you…have any friends?”

        She put a hand on one of her little horns and he immediately understood.

        “I get it.” He smiled gently, putting a hand on his horn. “I didn’t have a lot of friends until I met my best friend Tommy. I’m sure you will find some friends.”

        His heart melted as she gave him her first small smile. “I hope so.”

        He sat with her just talking away, the time passing so fast without either of them knowing as they talked. He felt like he learned so much but so little about her; yet, he loved every moment sitting with her. She had to go back with the other children of the orphanage but within a few hours, Tubbo made up his mind. He couldn’t leave this little girl with everyone else; he’d take her back to L’Manberg.

        So, in the morning, Tubbo put on his suit to be professional and he did the paperwork before waiting for them to bring (Y/N). (Y/N) came in timidly and Tubbo smiled gently as he crouched in front of her.

        “Hey, so, I don’t want to leave without you, would you like to come with me? I can introduce you to a few of my good friends.”

        “…They’re all nice like you, right?”

        He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, a few of them are pretty nice.”

        She looked around but nodded. “Ok.”

        He grinned as he stood up. “Then I’m going to take you back to my home.”

        They got the few things that she owned and Tubbo put them on the horse. After, Tubbo changed into more appropriate riding clothes before getting on with (Y/N).

        “Alright, here we go.” He muttered before getting the horse to go.

        Off they went to L’Manberg, Tubbo making sure they had shelter each night. It was a bit stressful for Tubbo on these few days. He had gotten used to not eating every day but he had to remember now to make sure (Y/N) ate. He also had to remember this was boring as hell for her so he tried his best to make little games as they galloped along. There was a point he went off on a bee tangent for half an hour after spotting one and pouted to himself when he saw (Y/N) had fallen asleep against him but he kept an arm wrapped around her so she didn’t fall off.

        As he got back to L’Manberg, he huffed as he saw Tommy and Fundy arguing as Quackity was laughing, Ranboo standing to the side awkwardly. Yeah, that’s how he expected his cabinet to act with him gone. He tied up his horse, grabbing (Y/N)’s things before taking her hand as he walked over to them. As the pair went over, (Y/N) hide behind him shyly.

        “Guys!” Tubbo called.

        “Tubbo! Tell this furry bitch—” Tommy started.

        “Oh, fuck off Tommy!” Fundy shouted back.

        They started having another go.

        “GUYS!” Tubbo shouted, making (Y/N) jump with the rest of the group. “I have someone for you to meet, so can you shut it?”

        Tommy spotted the little girl peeking out from behind Tubbo, noticing the horns first.

        “Holy shit, she has horns like yours.” Tommy went around Tubbo.

        “Yeah, this is (Y/N), she’s my little sister.”

        “A sister?!” Tommy looked at Tubbo surprised.

        Tubbo nodded. “I adopted her.”

        “I’m sorry?”

        “It’s a long story but I’m back and I’m got to bring her to my house,” Tubbo told them before walking off, feeling the little girl squeeze his hand tighter, probably getting overwhelmed.

        They got to Tubbo’s house and he looked around.

        “Er…You can have my room. I’ll need to make you a room.” He smiled at her.

        “Ok…thank you.”

        He patted her head between her horns. “I couldn’t leave you behind sis. Let’s get you settled in and I can make us some steak. Sound good?”

        She nodded.

        Tubbo knew it would be stressful learning to take care of another human while he had to run a nation but he had his friends to help him. He hoped he could do all this right.

[nothoughtsonlynat]

Resurrect Me (N.R.)

Warnings: swearing; death; Hell/the Underworld; cliff jumping lol

Word Count≈ 3.1k (yikes lol my bad)

Hecate一 the goddess of magic, witchcraft, the night, the moon, ghosts, and necromancy. Known to be an intricate mosaic of good and evil, destruction and beauty. Capable of granting wishes, summoning the dead, resurrections, teleportation, warping realities on unfathomable scales, mind control, energy manipulation, and any sorcery or magic known to the Gods. Second only to Zeus himself.

I am the human embodiment of Hecate. I am not Hecate; she merely resides in the depths of my soul and provides me guidance. We do not communicate through words; she speaks through dreams and gut feelings, and sometimes even through signs in the outside world. I have not mastered the powers she’s granted me, nor have I reached my full potential. In addition to the Goddess’ powers, I hold the basic Olympian powers, such as superhuman speed and stamina. I have no recollection of how I merged with Hecate or the life I lived before this point, and she has provided me with no answers, but I do not question her motives. 

Agent Phil Coulson came across me in my temple in Turkey. Apparently, he had discovered strange energy readings coming from the temple. When he arrived, I used the power of energy manipulation to blow the concrete off of me, and that is the first thing I remember一 emerging from underneath Hecate’s temple.

I joined the Avengers during the Battle of New York. Agent Coulson had recommended me to Fury when he was piecing together the Avengers Initiative. In the three years between my awakening and the invasion, I practiced my sorcery mercilessly and studied Hecate deep in the Greek countryside. I’ve stuck with the Avengers throughout the years, fighting every battle alongside them. Through the ups and downs, I’ve fallen head over heels for Natasha Romanoff. One would assume that with so much power, I’d be confident and have any mortal begging at my feet. That couldn’t be any more inaccurate, however. As I’ve said, I am not Hecate; I am simply the human embodiment of the goddess. And as a human, I turn into a blushing, stuttering mess whenever the levelheaded assassin is near. Consequently, there have been many years of pining, but I’ve yet to muster up the courage to ask the woman on a date.

In our most recent war, we’ve gone up against a mad titan一 Thanos. We lost terribly. Half of all living things inhabiting the universe were snapped away. I can’t help but ponder whether things would’ve gone differently if I had better mastered my powers. I potentially hold all the capabilities of the goddess of magic; aside from Zeus, I hold more power than any being to ever exist. I’ve practiced my sorcery every day for the past five years on the off chance that we ever get a rematch一 a chance to bring everyone back. I’ve improved significantly, but Hecate has been oddly quiet for the past few years. It’s driving me crazy. I know she’s still there, but she hardly provides an ounce of guidance.

And so, that is where I find myself now一 practicing sorcery in the room specifically designed to isolate me when I use dark magic. Everyone who has access to the training section of the compound knows that they should never enter this room. It is far too dangerous for regular mortals. As I warp the room’s reality, a dark mist envelops me. When it clears, the room has changed into a 50s ballroom. I look down to see an elegant maroon ball gown covering my body, and I scan the empty area. I hear a pair of heels clicking toward me, and I spin around, already panicking. In order for someone to be here with me, they would have to be an inhabitant of the location’s true reality. My eyes land upon the woman I’ve grown to love, dressed up for the event. She is wearing an extravagant light blue ball gown, and her hair is carefully done up. 

“Natasha? What are you doing here?”

“Why I came to dance with you, of course.” She steps closer and drapes her arms around my neck, swaying to the nonexistent music. Stay calm. Don’t panic. There’s no way I’m making her do this. I’m not even doing anything! Of course I’m the one making her do this, who else would it be?! Breathe in. Breathe out. My powers don’t control me. I control them. Just breathe. I can do this. I know how to do this.

As I focus on the magic coursing through my veins, a black mist envelops us, and the room returns to its original form一 a basic training room with black padded walls. I immediately take a large step back from Natasha.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Natasha?! You know you can’t come in here! I could’ve seriously hurt you!”

“I...I’m sorry. I thought you’d just be moving shit with your mind. I didn’t realize you could do...that, whatever that was.”

“That was reality manipulation. I didn’t know you were here and I don’t have full control of it, so you got caught up in it. Are you okay? Do you remember it?”

“Yeah, I remember it clear as day. I was still me and I was still in control, it was just...different, I guess.”

“Well, I literally warped your reality, so even if you felt in control, you might not have been.”

“You stopped it, though. I remember when that seemed impossible. You’re getting better.”

“Thanks, I guess.” I awkwardly scratch the back of my neck. “What did you come in here for in the first place?”

“This is gonna sound crazy, but Scott Lang is here. We might have a way to bring everybody back.”

“Wait, what? Holy shit. It’s happening. Okay, come on then!” I eagerly walk past her, grabbing her hand as I pass her, and we leave my training room. I realize that I’m still holding her hand as we make it to the meeting room, and I immediately drop it, clearing my throat. If I wasn’t so familiar with the sensation, then I would swear that my ears and cheeks are on fire.

<//>

We all step onto the platform in matching white and red time-travel suits. “We’re really doing this?”

“Hell yeah, we’re doing this,” Clint answers.

“Alright, then. We bring everybody back,” I say with determination. “Whatever it takes,” Steve adds.

“See you in a minute,” Natasha adds with a smirk. Before I can appreciate how beautiful she looks with the glimmer of hope in her eyes, we’re flying through a flurry of colors. Nebula, Natasha, Rhodey, Clint, and I land on Morag. We all say our respective goodbyes before Nat, Clint, and I get on a jet to head to Vormir.

<//>

“A soul for a soul.”

“What? That’s insane. Look, no offense, Mr. Bloody Tampon, but why should we just trust what you’re saying? Because you know their fathers’ names?”

“I didn’t.” I looked into Natasha’s eyes as she spoke and I instantly wish that I could replace the dull sadness with the bright hope that had filled them before.

“He doesn’t know my father’s name. If he’s some mystical being, then why can’t he tell me that?” I turned to face him as I asked the question.

“I’m afraid you are a mystery. I am meant to know everything about any being who seeks the stone, but I know nothing of your identity.”

“Hm. Seems like a load of bullshit to me,” I deadpanned.

“We need to do this. We need to bring everyone back. I’ve spent the past five years trying to reverse the snap, and now I finally know how to fix it. Let me do it.” As Natasha spoke, she grabbed both of my hands in hers.

“And I’ve spent every day for the past five years training to do this. I wasn’t just practicing sorcery and talking to dead people for fun, Nat. All I wanted was to do better一 to fix this. If anyone is jumping off that cliff, it’s gonna be me.”

“No. Absolutely not. Neither of you is dying for that stone. I’ve done horrible things these past few years. I’ve killed...so many people. It should be me,” Clint says, and Natasha and I turn to face him, but one of her hands remains in mine.

“No way in hell, Clint. And not you either, Nat. Both of you guys have families. You’re not sacrificing yourselves. I won’t let you. And you can’t stop me even if you try.” Nat gives me a questioning look as I mention her family and I speak in her head ‘I know about them, Nat. And they need you. She needs her big sister.’

“What are you saying?” I can hear the anxiety lacing Nat’s words, and it causes a pit to form in my stomach.

“I think you know what I’m saying, Natty.” 

“Then you don’t leave me much of a choice.” She shoots a Widow’s Bite toward me, but I stop it using energy manipulation without even having to lift a finger.

“You can’t beat me, Nat. Please, don’t fight me on this.”

“I call bullshit.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Clint running toward the edge while we’re distracted, and I teleport in front of him, throwing him backward. I use mind control to force him to stay down. I sense Natasha running toward the edge behind me, and I teleport in front of her. I use energy manipulation to keep her in place, and I grab onto her biceps.

“I’m really sorry, Nat. I hate that I’m doing this to you, but I can’t let you throw yourself off a cliff for some stupid stone. Your life is worth so much more than that. You’re an amazing person, and your ledger was cleared of its red so long ago. Don’t let anyone tell you any different.”

“This is sounding an awful lot like a goodbye.”

“You can be sarcastic all you want, but I’m not walking out of this one, Natty.”

“Don’t do this. The team needs you.”

“No, they don’t, Nat, and we both know it. They need you.”

“And what if I need you?!”

“Well if that’s the case, you’ll figure it out, just like you always do. Don’t let something like this hold you back. Goodbye, Natasha Romanoff.” I kiss her cheek before turning around. I start walking towards the edge, but it quickly turns into a sprinting pace as I hear Nat screaming for me to stop. Just before I reach the edge, I lift the mind control from Clint and I release Nat, just in case it doesn’t automatically lift when I die. I push myself off the cliff, turning mid-jump so I’m not facing the ground. As I’m falling through the air, I see Clint holding Nat in his arms as her screams fill my ears. I hit the ground and everything goes black.

<//>

“Hello, y/n. It’s good to see you again.” I sat up and一 what the hell is that smell? “Ah, yes. That would be burning flesh. Welcome to Hell, darling.”

“Uh...what? Who are you?”

“Yes, I suppose I should explain, hm? I am Hecate, Goddess of一”

“Yeah, I know what you’re the goddess of. How did I get here?”

“I thought you were smarter than this. You died, obviously.”

“And went to Hell? Damn.”

“Oh, relax. Hell isn’t what the mortals think it is. This is the Underworld. All of the dead reside here. The bad people get punished, the good people don’t. Simple as that. We don’t have a lot of time, so I need to explain. I am cursed; I cannot leave the Underworld. However, my human embodiment can, and that is where you come into play. You hold all my power, and I can see you’ve been practicing, but you’ve never lived up to your full potential.”

“Hey! Rude!”

“Don’t interrupt. I didn’t allow you to live up to your full potential, not until we met, anyway.”

“And I had to die in order for that to happen?”

“Yes. I’m giving you all of my power, but I can still stop you if I ever need to. I know you don’t want to risk hurting the people you love, especially the redhead, but you need to trust yourself. Trust your powers. Have a little faith. You are a goddess, remember. Don’t let people forget it. That purple thumb is nothing compared to you, even with his colorful rocks. Your family needs you now. You must help them.”

“That’s it? Why do they need help? How will I know what to do?”

“I will always be there to help you, Y/N. You can handle this. This is nothing. You are part of me, just as I am part of you. You are my daughter, after all. I should know your capabilities better than anyone.”

“Wait, daughter?!”

“Oh, did I forget to mention that part? Oh well, it doesn’t matter right now, anyway. You need to go.”

“Go where?”

“Home, darling.” 

The earth above us cracks open and I can hear faint sounds of fighting on the surface. I look at Hecate as she nods. Before I even realize I’m doing it, black mist surrounds my body and lifts me through the crack. I step out of the mist onto the ground and a staff appears in my right hand. I tap it once on the ground and my white suit is replaced by an all-black leather outfit that’s definitely made for a goddess. I smirk and make eye contact with the titan across the battlefield. His sickly creatures race toward me as they notice the new threat on the field. I summon an army of ghouls from the cracks in the earth. As the aliens and the undead clash, I teleport in front of Thanos.

“And who might you be, dear?” He acts confident, but I can sense his fear.

“I am Y/N, daughter of Hecate.” He tilts his head in a questioning manner. “Oh, did someone not study mythology? Hm, then let’s be blunt, shall we? I’m a goddess, ass-chin.” I throw my staff at his throat, but he catches it. He moves to swing his large sword at me, but I capture his arm in black mist. When he tries to move the other arm, I restrain that one, as well. “Well, that surely can’t be all you’ve got, hm? Pity, I thought it’d be more exciting than that.” If I were to look in a mirror at that moment, I would’ve noticed my ghostly pale skin, black eyes, and the raw power spreading through my veins like a black road-map.

“It’s not over yet, my dear child.” Before I can question the meaning of his words, an alien tosses him the gauntlet. It slides on his exposed hand, but I hold it open with dark magic. I look around and notice that the army of the undead is nowhere to be seen. My teammates are pinned down, even with the help of those who were snapped. There is a feeling in my gut and a voice in my head that tells me what I must do. I pull the gauntlet off his hand with black mist and slide my hand inside. I feel the power surging into my body. “What are you doing? That power will kill you!” Thanos sounds truly desperate.

“That’s cute. Truly, it is, but you can’t kill someone who’s already dead.” I close my hand and snap my fingers. His army fades to dust and he slumps to the ground before floating away with them. I drop the gauntlet to the ground and look around. Natasha runs toward me and throws her arms around my neck in a firm hug.

“Wha一what happened to you? How are you here? I thought you died!”

I wrap my arms around her waist and rest my chin on her shoulder before saying, “I did die. I am dead.”

She pulls away and looks at me from head to toe. “Well that explains why you’re so damn pale, but now I have so many more questions.”

“I am Hecate’s daughter, so I am technically a goddess, like her. I’m not sure if I was technically resurrected or not, but I can probably一”

She cut me off with a gentle yet passionate kiss. She pulls away and searches my eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,” she admits.

“Me too,” I breathe out.

“Yeah, I picked up on that. You’re not very discrete.” I laughed and a smirk spread across her face. “As sexy as this whole ‘powerful goddess’ thing is, am I going to get the old you back? You know, the one who blushes whenever I look at her? The one who’s, like, alive?”

I smile at her and glance down at her lips as a thick black mist appears behind me. I step backward into it as her face morphs into a look of confusion. She disappears from sight as a wall of black fills my vision, and a surge of power spreads throughout my body. I fall to my knees and the black cloud disappears. Natasha rushes over and kneels in front of me. “Are you okay? What the hell was that?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but I think I’m alive again.” I lift my head and meet her eyes.

“Your skin isn’t crazy pale anymore, and your eyes are their normal color again.”

“Sweet.”

“Cool.”

We both crack up and I lean my forehead against hers as our laughter fades.

Tony interrupts our moment of peace. “This is all good and dandy, but does someone wanna explain what the hell just happened?”

I raise my head and look at my teammates一 my family. “I kicked the purple thumb’s ass. That’s what happened.” I can feel a warm presence in my heart, and I know that my mother is with me.

“Yes, yes, I noticed. I also noticed a bunch of demons. Care to explain that one?”

“They weren’t demons...they were just...the souls...of dead people. I can summon the dead. You knew that.”

“Uh, I definitely didn’t know that.” I laugh and shake my head at the eccentric man. 

I stand up, pulling Natasha with me, and bring her into another embrace. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Natty,” I whisper in her ear before pressing a delicate kiss to her temple.

A/N: I literally had this completely finished and edited over a month ago and I hadn’t posted it yet soooooo... idk here it is

[fandommix]

The Neighbor Pt.2

Pairing: Marcus Baker x Reader

Plot: It’s Y/n and Ginny’s first day of school. Y/n is nervous as she goes to her first period class but then it goes away when she sees a familiar face in her class.

Warnings: Swearing

(A/N: Guysss I forgot to change the font when I started to write this I’m so sorry if it looks weird!! The next part won’t look as weird as this I promise 💀💀)

Mom and Austin dropped me and Ginny off at school. We both wished each other luck and headed to first period. I had English first period. My teacher is Mrs. Cambell.

I walk into class looking for a seat. I found one and sat down. A few minutes later the bell rings and who I’m presuming is the teacher, walks in.

“Hello class I hope you all had a wonderful summer. I see we have a new student in school this year. Y/n could you introduce yourself? Where are you from?” She asks. I slowly stand up so everyone can see me. I start to speak but then the door opens suddenly.

“Mr. Baker thank you for finally joining us. Right in time though, our new student is introducing herself. Y/n, go right ahead sweetheart.”

It was Marcus. My neighbor, the guy from last night. Now I know we’re the same age. He sits down at the only empty seat which just so happens to be the seat right next to mine.

“Hi I’m Y/n. I’m originally from Virginia but I just moved from Texas.” I say. That’s all I say. I’m not much of a public speaker. My sister Ginny is though.

I sit down and Mrs. Cambell starts talking about what she expects of us during the year. I couldn’t really pay attention, I felt eyes on me the whole period. I knew it was Marcus.

The period ended...finally. It felt like forever with him staring at me. I felt so awkward. I rushed out of there to go to my next class.

Half of the day passed and I thankfully didn’t have any classes with Marcus. It was right before lunch and I decided to go to my locker to put away some books. When I closed my locker door I jumped. Marcus was right there leaning against the other lockers.

“Holy shit Marcus! You scared the crap out of me!” I yelled.

“Haha I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to talk you.” He said.

“Oh okay, it’s fine. Why did you want to talk to me?”

“Well you walked out of first period so fast, you didn’t even say hi.”

“Well I-”

I was interrupted by a girl with a bright pink jacket.

“Marcus why don’t you leave this poor girl alone and bother someone else?”

Marcus rolled his eyes and stood up straight. “See you around” he said as he left.

“I’m sorry about him he’s an asshole. I should have strangled him with the umbilical cord in the womb, I would have done a solid for humanity. I’m Maxine by the way, Max for short. You look familiar, do you have a sibling?”

I was taken aback by all the energy she has. She talks really fast. “Yah I have a twin sister Virginia but she makes everyone call her Ginny. You might know her possibly.” I said.

“Oh yah! We have the same first period. Do you wanna come to lunch with me? Your sister and my friends are having lunch together.”

I agreed to go with. I’m glad my sister found friends. She has a hard time making friends sometimes. It’s mostly because she doesn’t give any effort in trying.

At lunch Max introduces me to everyone. We all talked for a good 20 minutes and then Ginny and Max decide to go off of campus for lunch, I stay back to read. I needed some me time. Everyone else at the table left so it was just me.

Halfway through the page I was reading I saw a person sit down across from me. I look up and it was Marcus.

“Hey” I said smiling.

“Hey what’s up?” He said.

“Oh nothing much just reading, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing much just sitting here with you. You looked kinda lonely so I just wanted to give you some company.” He said with a smile.

“Oh well thanks! Max and her friends were here but then they left. Oh by the way Max told me you have a motorcycle??”

He sighed. “Yah I do...and I’m guessing you want a insta pic of you on it?”

“What? No my dad rides one. He taught me how to ride.”

He looked at me surprised. “Really!? Do you want to come over after school snd give it a spin?”

“Yah sure! That sounds really fun actually.” I said.

The rest of lunch we talked. I told him that my step father had just passed and that’s why I moved. He apologized but I told him it was fine.

At the end of lunch he walked me to my next class.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later then” he said.

“Yah see you later. Thanks for hanging out with me Marcus. You’re not an asshole.” I said with a smile as I walked into class.

(A/N: I was watching Captain America while writing this and I kept stopping to watch cus Chris Evans is just so goddam hot. Like have y’all seen his abs...anyways, I hope y’all liked this one. New one coming on up soon so keep your eyes peeled)

Tags:

•

•

•

•

[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat: The First Young Avenger —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

Words: 2,429

Warnings: None.

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next chapter

Listen to: ‘I Was An Island’ -by Allison Weiss

xvii: Partners

Her winter break had been uneventful in the best way and would remain in her mind for all the right reasons. 

When it was time to go back to the city, the twins were far better in combat, and they were entirely capable of controlling their powers.

Pietro was still unable to hold his tongue, though.

"Say hi to your boyfriend for us," He teased her. "We'll see if we can get to know him before the year ends."

"Hopefully, you won't know him at all," She retorted in a bad mood. "Are you done acting like a kid?"

"Turning fifteen has made you boring," He pouted. "You had a sense of humor before..."

"I still do, it's just that your jokes aren't funny," She said.

"Okay, we will stop," Wanda intervened. "If you promise we'll be the first to know if you ever have a crush on someone."

"Why do you care?" C.C. laughed. "It's so silly, having a crush isn't everything in life, you know? It's the last thing I care about, I don't know why everyone's so obsessed with it."

"It's not the last thing you care about," Pietro said. "I remember how eager you were to know how falling in love felt like— and now you say you don't care? You're lying."

"Maybe I changed my mind."

"Or maybe you're starting to realize how scary feelings can be," Wanda taunted with a little smile. "C'mon, C.C., don't be a chicken."

"I'm not a chicken."

"Don't be a scared cat, Copy—"

"Stop..."

"Don't be a baby..."

"Oh, fuck off, honestly," She grumbled.

The twins erupted into laughter, they engulfed her in a hug and wished her good luck on the second half of her year.

Since her midterms all ended up having high marks, Tony admitted defeat and handed her three VIP passes to the expo.

"Oh, just two," She tried to give one back, but Tony stopped her.

"One's for you, kid, you can go with your friends, seize the day."

"Really?"

"Yeah, go ahead. Consider this a test, if you prove to me you can spend a whole day out on your own without putting yourself or others in danger, I'll let you use the bus instead of having Happy picking you up every day."

"You just want your driver back, don't you?"

"Obviously," He taunted.

"Ned!" C.C. ran through the hall, elbowing people as she moved forward. "NED! I got them!"

The boy looked at the items she was holding above her head and his smile instantly grew wider.

"No way!" He grabbed the badge with his name and stared at it. "You're the best, C.C!"

Ned hugged her, the girl tensed and immediately stepped back, but her smile didn't falter.

"Not a problem, it was thanks to you that I passed my exams on time, I owed it to you."

"We should celebrate— lunch's on me today. Hey, have you seen Peter since the field trip?"

"No, why?"

"He gave me a call the day after," They started to walk towards the classroom. "He sounded really off..."

"Was he ill?"

"He was freaking out," Ned told her. "I answered the phone and the connection was awful, but he was talking fast and he said something about some guy trying to rob him?"

"Oh my god, is he okay?"

"He just sounded scared," He shrugged. "But I saw him last Saturday and he's looking good— like, really great."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't really put my finger on it..." He tilted his head.

C.C. walked into the classroom and saw Peter seated at the front row as usual.

"Holy shit," She froze.

"Told you," Ned muttered, walking past her without reacting. "Hey, dude!"

Peter and Ned did their terribly long handshake, which gave the girl enough time to analyze her friend's looks with extra attention:

He was no longer wearing glasses, his hair was slightly longer and he was filling his clothes far better than before... somehow his figure was easier to notice, but he was still the same.

"Pete, hi," She frowned a little. "Where are your glasses?"

"May gave me a pair of contacts as a Christmas present," He smiled at her awkwardly. "I look weird, right?"

"No, you look... you look great," Her voice didn't sound convincing, though. "Did you buy new clothes?"

"No?" He looked down at his hoodie. "I wear this all the time?"

"Really?" She insisted. "Did you gain weight?"

"C.C!" Ned scolded her.

Peter blushed, he shifted on his seat and scratch his neck tensely.

"You know how I got sick during the trip?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I..." He grimaced. "I got so sick I wouldn't stop going to the bathroom and I lost so much weight May had to take me to the doctor—"

"Ew," The girl and Ned said.

"...and once I got better she just kept feeding me more than usual, so I guess I gained weight."

"Man, I'm sorry," C.C. pouted, "you should've called me, Pete. It sounds like it was quite serious..."

"It's alright, my aunt took care of me."

"Wait, but the weekend you got sick you were outdoors," Ned frowned. "You said something about a guy..."

"No I didn't," He was quick to answer.

"Yes you did!"

"I mean," He glanced at C.C. "I mean... I may have, Ned, I don't know... I had a high fever so... maybe I was hallucinating and I called you because you were the first person that came to my mind..."

C.C. couldn't believe what she was witnessing.

Peter was lying!

Why would he lie? Was his illness more serious than he led on? But then he would be looking worse and not better, he even looked healthier than before... maybe she was just being paranoid, just because she was always expecting the worst it didn't mean that was exactly what was going to happen.

"Well, I'm happy you're better now," She stated, patting his shoulder briefly.

"Me too," He smiled.

"Show him the badge!"

"I almost forgot!" She searched through her bag and pulled out Peter's VIP pass. "I hope you're free this Sunday, tough guy..."

"No way!" Peter stood up and stared at his badge as if it were made of pure gold. "You got them!"

"I got them!" She showed him her own badge. "And he gave me one more so I could go with you!"

"That's awesome!"

Peter also flung his arms around her, he was now the same height as her, if not slightly taller. She was so confused she didn't push him away, and by the time she realized how close he was, Peter was already going back to his seat.

"It's gonna be the best weekend of the year, for sure," He looked back at her with the sweetest smile. "You're amazing."

Ned and Peter were too busy gushing about the expo to notice her attitude, C.C. sat next to Ned and hid her face behind her backpack, she was bright red.

"Oh, no..." She whimpered quietly.

"Maybe he started working out?"

"You don't look like that after only three weeks," C.C. clicked her tongue.

"Growthspurt?" MJ offered.

"Can we talk about something else?" The girl implored. "I seriously need to keep my mind busy with something else than Peter, it's making me uncomfortable."

"Why? Because girls are starting to notice him?" The girl teased.

"C'mon, not you too," She groaned, laying her head on the table. "I'm tired of this stupid—"

"Guys, guys have you seen the news?" Liz approached, she seemed excited. "There's a new superhero!"

"What? Who?"

"Look!" Liz showed them her phone, in it there was a youtube video of a random guy in red and blue clothes.

"Who the hell is that?" C.C. asked in annoyance. "A new superhero? Haven't we got enough with the ones we already have?"

"He's local, though," Liz couldn't contain her excitement. "Isn't it amazing? Now that the Avengers moved out of the city we were kinda defenceless, it's cool to know someone's looking after us again."

"I wouldn't say they're all gone," C.C. pouted, but she spoke so quietly Liz didn't catch it.

"Well, I just thought I'd show it to you, C, in case your uncle wants to ask him to join the Avengers," She beamed. "See you!"

"Bye..." C.C. waited until she was out of ear shot. "I don't like this new guy, Jones."

"Yeah, it's fishy. I mean, who fights crime in their pijamas?"

"I should inform Tony, just in case this guy's a weirdo."

"Totally," MJ took a big bite of her sandwich. "You should ask Peter for help, you'll have the perfect excuse to spend more time with him."

"Oh, go to hell."

She had it all planned out, calling Stark sounded like an exaggeration, and calling Fury was definitely too much, considering she'd been trained to handle minor threats, she decided to investigate on her own.

The girl went to bed at ten, earlier than usual but no one that knew her well enough was inside the tower at the moment, her suit was still hidden at the back of her closet, and she put it on quickly while F.R.I.D.A.Y was looking for the new guy.

"There's been a sighting near Brooklyn," It told her. "If you hurry you might catch him there, C.C."

"Thanks— can you open one of the wider windows for me, please?"

"Would you like me to select a blind spot?"

"Can you do that?" She approached the back of the room. "Yes, please!"

The window opened at the bottom left, she crouched in front of it and secured her lenses tight around her eyes.

"Feels nice to go solo," She muttered. "Go Copycat..."

She threw herself out of the window.

"Activate jetpack!"

Her body flung upwards, she had to dive back in order to stabilize her movements.

"Friday, update me on the position of the... what is people calling him?"

"People call him the spider-man."

"Really?" She frowned, trying to fly behind tall buildings to not catch attention. "But he looks nothing like a spider!"

"I believe it's thanks to his defense system: he shoots webs out of his wrists..."

The spider-guy swung across her line of vision, about twenty meters away.

"How about we ask him in person?" She muttered.

C.C. flew faster towards him, when she was about forty feet she slowed down so he didn't hear her coming.

"Activate camouflage mode..."

Her suit instantly darkened to match the nightsky, as soon as she landed, the masked guy stood up and turned around, but he couldn't see her.

"Hello?" His voice kind of sounded familiar, but it was muffled by his mask. "Anyone there?"

She circled him slowly, watching as he kept his eyes where she'd previously landed. It was clear that he didn't have professional training judging by his posture and size, he was also quite nervous, and he didn't carry any deathly weapons.

C.C. decided to speak.

"Over here."

The guy cursed louldy and shot something at her, C.C. moved a little and the substance flew past her shoulder.

"Turned off the camouflage, Friday," She said. "Before he pees his pants."

"Who's talking?" He squeaked.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Her suit was pitch black again, she raised her hands in the air so he could see she wasn't going to attack him. "I just wanna talk, are you going to cooperate?"

"I— wait, are you an Avenger?"

He pointed to the small logo on the left side of her chest.

"Meh," She shrugged. "Young Avenger. I'm not supposed to go public yet. You can call me Copycat."

C.C. offered her hand, the guy shook it.

"I'm the... I'm spider-man."

She snorted. "Why though? What's your deal?"

"Ah..." He looked at his body as if trying to find the answer there. "I'm like super strong and sticky. I can... crawl around?"

"Do you lay eggs as well?" She teased. "Are your legs and arms hairy? How many eyes do you have behind that mask..."

The girl approached him without actually intending to touch, he stepped back anyway.

"No, I'm-I'm normal— I mean, I changed  physically but nothing gross happened, I was a lucky guy."

"Very well, lucky guy," She crossed her arms. "I just wanna make sure you mean no harm and you're just trying to help others. If you tell me you're a good guy I'll believe you and leave you to it, but you gotta be honest, man, otherwise I'll call Nick Fury and he'll catch you so fast you won't even have time to throw one of your..." She looked down at the white substance on the floor, a few steps behind her. "Glue?"

"It's web— artificial web. I did it, it's really strong and it helps me..." He rambled. "Doesn't matter. Look, Miss Copycat—"

"Copycat, no miss at the front, that's stupid."

"Okay," He started again. "Copycat. I just wanna help others... and you probably can tell I'm new in this, but I'm pretty good at it, I don't know if you've noticed, but the Avengers are too busy to deal with regular shoplifters and creepy dudes lurking in dark corners, so I've been taking care of them."

There was a very sweet innocence in his speech, he sounded young, not older than twenty, and she felt the strong impulse to support his mission.

"You're right, the Avengers are too busy for that," She admitted. "I think I can help you."

Spider-man's shoulders relaxed. "Wait, really?"

"Like I said, I'm a young avenger, and I can tell you're kinda young too... I'm not supposed to be seen with the team yet, but that doesn't mean I'm not qualified to go out and help people. I like your idea, I can help you."

"That would be great... But are you sure the others won't need you?"

C.C. knew this was a risky idea, if Tony found out she'd left the tower to navigate New York's streets in the dark, he would freak out and send her back to the Avengers facility without even asking. But was it better to leave this onesie-wearing boy alone in the city, without nothing but webshooters as his only defense? He needed training, and he needed someone who could heal him in case he got injured in a fight.

"Don't worry about them, Webs," She replied. "Do we have a deal?"

He moved towards the edge of the building and stared at the people below. He looked back at her and nodded.

"I'm in."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@ieatpanicattacksforlunch​​​​​​​​​ @jesuswasnotawhiteman​​​​​​​​​ @23victoria​​​​​​​​​@siriuslysirius1107​​​​​​​​​ @greengarsstuff​​​​​​​ @itsyagirl01​

[strawberrylemonz]

A Mother for Two

Welcome to the continuation! As always, time to dedicate these chapters! Hope you all enjoy, especially @applepie1000

@petrichormeraki I will fist fight you lmaooo /j

Part 3

Part 4 [CURRENT]

Part 5

------------

“You two sure you have everything you need?”

“We’re sure, Xisuma, jeez. It’s not like we’re leaving for good, we’ll be back by tonight.”

Grian snickered as Tommy was swiftly swatted on the backside of his head by Xisuma. Huffing, the boy griped as the group walked over to the portal leading to the Hub. As Xisuma gave the two another look over, Grian finally spoke up.

“Tommy and I will be just fine. We’ll just set up the fliers, get supplies, get our asses back here. Done, easy work.”

“Yeah, easy work!”

“Nothing is easy work when the two of you are together for too long. Just don’t cause too much trouble, nothing more than usual.”

After bidding farewell to Xisuma, the two boys walked into the portal. Instantly, voices chatting with each other filled the silence. The two stepped out of the portal and into the Hub. Players of all kinds here entering and leaving several portals. As the two made their way through the portal transportation section, Tommy examined all the portals. 

Hermitcraft

Stampy’s Lovely World

Pixelmon

MCC

Hypixel 

Cops and Robbers

There were so many portals to so many places. He had only been through the Hub to get to MCC. He was always focused on getting to his destination that he didn’t stop to look closely at every other portal around him. Stopping in his tracks, he stared at a ruined portal. It was grand and beautiful, but falling apart. It was cracked and broken, no longer activated. The giant sign above it proudly held it’s name, keeping the world from being forgotten.

SMP EARTH

Grian was walking when he felt something off. Turning around, he noticed that Tommy wasn’t following him. Tilting his head and looking around, he saw that Tommy was just standing there, staring. Excusing himself as he pushed passed the crowd, he eventually made his way to his brother. Before he could get onto his brother for immediately separating from him, he saw what his brother was looking at. Making a humming noise, he nudged Tommy before pulling out a large banner. Tommy nodded in understanding, and helped Grian unravel the banner. Working with haste, the two strung up the banner on the inactive portal. Once it was secured, they stood back and admired their work.

GRAND OPENING!!!! 

HERMITCRAFT PROUDLY PRESENTS:

INNIT AN ADVENTURE?!

We, in Hermitcraft, happily invite you to join us in the opening day of our latest amusement park, Innit an Adventure! Created by our very own TommyInnit, we encourage you to spend the day with us! Come join us as we make unforgettable memories! Keep an eye out for festival week, and join us for a wonderful night of dancing! 

Are you innit with us?

“Looks great!”

“Of course it does, we made it.”

“Yeah yeah, lets just finish the set up.”

Smiling, the two boys set up two podiums underneath the banner. Taking out a good amount of pamphlets and fliers, they neatly set them down on the podiums. Content, the two began to walk away from the portal as people began to stop at the ruin, murmuring in excitement for the adventure park. 

“This is going to be a success, I can already tell you that. Good job, baby brother.”

The two laughed as they made their way through the portal Hub. Grian noticed some people he recognized and waved them over, already pulling pamphlets out of his bag. Tommy laughed as he looked around, fliers in hand, searching for anyone who was willing to get one. That’s when he saw it. Gulping, he quietly walked up to a neon green portal. 

DREAM SMP

Reading the sign attached to the portal, Tommy saw that only whitelisted people could enter. He was whitelisted. He could walk in, right now, and possibly lose his final life tied to the world. Shaking his head, he snapped himself out of his thoughts and scoffed at them. He liked it in Hermitcraft, he didn’t want to leave it for a terrible past. He didn’t have to worry about permanently dying in Hermitcraft. He didn’t have to worry about losing his shit or having said shit used against him. 

“Although...”

As Tommy mumbled to himself, he eventually came to a final decision. Nodding to himself, he crumbled a couple fliers and chucked them into the portal, sending them to the SMP. It was common knowledge that, even though people couldn’t enter, they could send items. With the fliers crumbled up, it would appear as if random passerby’s just threw trash in, making it easy for Tommy to deny inviting them.

Tommy knew that he didn’t want to go back to his past, that much was crystal clear. But what was stopping his past from going to him? If they missed him as if and wanted to see him again, they would need to make the effort. Humming with approval, he walked over to Grian, who was finishing talking to his acquaintances. 

“Hey, big man, maybe we should send some of the fliers and pamphlets into the portals.”

Grian thought for a bit, before nodding in agreement. Taking half of Tommy’s fliers, Grian gave him half of his pamphlets. Nudging towards the main server, he explained his plan.

“I’ll handle the portals and the travelers, okay? You go out and hang up banners and set up more podiums. Meet me at Feast Street for lunch, okay?”

“Okay, okay, calm down. I can do this, I’m not useless.”

“Far from it. See you later, Toms, love you.”

Tommy stood in silence, watching his brother walk away. His brother’s proclamation of love had caught him by surprise. A smile formed on his face as a warm feeling bursted through his chest. Looking around, he found some crates nearby. Standing on them, he inhaled before hollering out.

“GRIAN!”

He saw his brother turn around, confused. He felt his face flush as a couple of strangers faced him as well. Ignoring them, he yelled out in confidence through the crowd.

“LOVE YOU TOO, BIG BROTHER!”

He saw Grian laugh, a big smile painted on his face. The two exchanged waves of goodbyes before turning their separate ways, ignoring the cooing noises from the crowd. Tommy laughed as he situated his satchel. Nodding, he made his way down to the capital city.

--------

Things were going great for Tommy. Do take note of the use of past tense, just pointing that out there. Now, Tommy was being scolded as if he were a child again. For Nether’s sake, he was 18! Yet, here he was, being scolded for something he didn’t do.

“I swear that I didn’t do shit!”

“Then why are you being so defensive?”

“Because you’re accusing me of crap that I didn’t even do!”

Apparently, according to the stupid shopkeeper that was currently giving him a hard time, some kids were going around and stealing stuff from the shelves. Due to the stress, the shopkeeper immediately accused Tommy of being apart of that group of kids. She wouldn’t let him leave, even after he explained himself. So there he stood, feeling like a helpless child once again.

“Is something the matter?”

Tommy turned to see a petite woman standing behind the shopkeeper, arms crossed. Despite her height, or lack of it, she seemed very intimidating. At least, that’s what the shopkeeper seemed to believe.

“Oh, ma’am, my apologies! I was just reprimanding this deli-”

“My son. You’re reprimanding my son.”

“Son???”

“SON??? WHAT???”

“What is she doing?”

“NEW PARENT POG???”

“Huhhhhhh??????”

“FINALLY OBTAINING A MOTHER, POG???”

“MUMZA???”

“MOTHERINNIT???”

Tommy perked up at this, peering over at the lady once more. The shopkeeper seemed flabbergasted at how blunt the woman was with her. The woman, however, stayed firm with her stance and gaze. 

“You’re son, ma’am?”

“Yes, my son. How many times do I need to repeat myself? I sent him in here to buy some fresh fruit to snack on before lunch, but I now see that was a mistake.”

“W-Wait, no! Ma’am, I didn’t-”

“We will find a different shop to go buy fruit at, instead. Do think about things before acting. Here,”

The woman grabbed a flier and a pamphlet from Tommy, handing it to the shopkeeper.

“You can make things up to both me and my son by telling shoppers about this. Now, we shall take our leave. Come on, dear.”

The woman held her hand out to Tommy, who nodded his head and took it. She led him out of the store and to the street, ignoring the apologies coming from the shopkeeper. Once they were a good distance away, she let go.

“Sorry about that, but you seemed stuck with her hounding you like that. I was going to ask for a flier or pamphlet, but figured I should help you instead.”

Tommy blinked a few times before laughing alongside the woman. Chat was laughing alongside them, taking a liking to the mysterious woman who had saved their little pogchamp.

“Ah, I should introduce myself. I’m Kristin, very nice to meet you! I’m originally from SMP Earth, but I somehow ended up here many years ago.”

“SMP Earth? Holy shit, I’m from there, too! I’m Tommy, by the way. Well, my actual name is Thomas, but everyone calls me Tommy. I’m from Business Bay, but I eventually became the youngest prince of the Antarctic Empire.”

“Youngest prince? Are you Phil’s brother?”

“What? Nah, he adopted me as his son.”

Tommy was startled as the woman, Kristin, began choking on air. Alarmed, he pat her back as he gave her a water bottle he had on him. After a while, she raised her hand and nodded, indicating that she was okay.

“Wow, he has a son. The world is ending, hah.”

“Four, actually. He has four sons.”

“Oh my god, I’m going to have a heart attack.”

Tommy laughed before asking what was on his mind. Judging by the breezy feeling that moved across his starry face, he knew that Clara led this woman to him.

“How do you know Phil?”

Kristin’s face brightened up as a small blush painted her cheeks.

“Er, how about I tell you about it as we walk?”

“Better yet, why don’t you tell me and my older brother about it over lunch?”

--------

Grian was not expecting Tommy to come back with an older woman. He didn’t mind, however, after hearing how she saved his brother from the shopkeeper’s rage. Laughing, he ruffled the younger boy’s hair. 

“Haha, you found a mother!”

“We’re brothers, so wouldn’t that make her our mother? Sheesh, dumbass.”

Kristin laughed out loud in the background, holding her stomach and she doubled over. Tommy happily smiled, very glad to have someone appreciate his language. Once they all gave proper introductions and a reason as to why Kristin was with them, they all got food and sad down at one of the outside tables.  After getting a few decent bites into their meals, Tommy spoke up.

“So,  how do you know Phil?”

“Ah, yes, that old fart-”

She smiled as both boys snorted at that statement. Taking a bite out her bread roll, she waited for them to settle down before. Nodding her head, she continued.

“It’s true, he is! Anyways, I knew him when I lived back on SMP Earth. I was, well, am the princess of a smaller kingdom back there. Phil’s parents had started a small kingdom of their own, the Antarctic Empire. My parents, along with his, arranged for the two of us to be married to one another. I would have usually thrown a fit at an arranged marriage, like I always did when they brought up suitors, but Phil and I actually liked each other, so we agreed. I disappeared before the wedding, however, fell through my mirror and into a hardcore world. Once I made it out of there, I ended up here. Been here ever since.”

Grian started choking out of surprise. Tommy and Kristin both moved quickly to help him, worried. Once he gave them a sign that he was okay, he adjusted himself.

“You’re Queen Kristin?”

“Queen?”

“Yeah. I read it in one of the books in the archive when I was younger. Although you disappeared, you were still married to my dad, and the two kingdoms were merged into one.”

“What?”

Kristin stared at Grian, confusion and disbelief painted her face. Suddenly, she groaned and hit her head against the table. 

“This explains why some of the things I bought took way too long to finalize! My last name has been Minecraft this entire time!”

Tommy and Grian shared a look of disbelief. This was the only thing she was concerned about? Being married to Phil wasn’t troubling or shocking news to her at all! Suddenly, Tommy’s eyes widened as he gasped, pointing at Kristin. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?! THAT MAKES YOU MY ACTUAL MOTHER.”

--------

Kristin helped them finish setting up banners and podiums. She also aided them in passing out fliers and pamphlets to passing people. Once they ran out, she walked them over to the Hub. As they stood at the entrance portal to Hermitcraft, Tommy hugged Kristin, who ran her fingers through her head. She may have been new to the whole mother thing, but her caring instincts were enough to comfort the young boy.

“I wish I could come, I really do, but I’m not on the list. I’ll have to wait until opening day.”

Before Tommy could whine, Grian spoke up. 

“What if we got you on the list? Would you move in, then?”

Kristin laughed as she pat Grian’s shoulder, a smile painting her face.

“Of course! I just found out I had family! You guys aren’t getting rid of me that easily. Here, take this. If you guys get me on the list, use this to get to my house.”

Tommy brightened up as he was given a compass labeled Kristin. He nodded as Grian promised. 

“Bye Kristin! See you around!”

“Bye Tommy, Grian, I’ll see you two soon.”

The boys watched as she walked away, a pep in her step as disappeared into the crowd. Nodding to each other, Tommy and Grian went home.

[jademakean]

𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Timothée Chalamet x Reader

𝑷𝒂𝒖𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.

｡･:*:･ﾟ

  Drizzles of water began coating your body as you rushed to your best friend's porch, hurriedly knocking on the wooden door.

The extra holiday break from school allowed you to spend more time with Pauline, meaning: chaotic sleepovers

“Hello?”

You looked up meeting a pair of green eyes you hadn't seen in a long while. “Timothée?”

Once the slender figure came to the realization of who was waiting at his front step, his mouth went agape mirroring yours.

You both had been close since you were little. You became friends with Pauline in middle school and met Timothée through her. From then on you were a trio and would do everything together, but that all changed.

Him, being three years older than you meant that he'd go to college first and in the end, there would simply not be any time for you both to be together. You did try to hang out once every two weeks but his college was way too far and he needed to spend his time focussing on his studies. It ended in a bad note, with many hurtful words shared.

Before you knew it, Timothée had you in bone-crushing embrace  “I haven't seen you in months, more than a year maybe! God, I missed you.”

“Why didn't you tell me you came back?” you couldn't hide the slight disappointment of him not thinking about letting you know. “I wanted to but I switched phone numbers and my sister wanted me to surprise you instead. I just didn't know I was going to see you this soon.”

Though you both shared your relief in seeing each, there was some strange tension in the air.

“I gotta visit my aunt right now but we should celebrate tomorrow or something.” He suggested, breaking the silence.

“Yeah totally. I'm sleeping over anyways so we'll probably see each other after dinner. Just be careful, the weather seems to be getting worse.”

“Oh yeah of course. If you need some clothes you can get some from my room, they're in a box on my bed. I know that Pauline's clothes are too small for any human being to wear.”

You giggled at his over-exaggeration nodding “Thanks. Stay safe.”

Once the door shut you felt your mood change. It's not like you weren't happy to see him, you were, but not being able to have the same connection you once had made your heartache.

“DJ Paulina in the house mother fuckers!”

You jumped at your best friend's sudden outburst but laughed nevertheless.

“Holy shit, you're wetter than the pacific ocean!”

You roller your eyes “Really? Damn, I wonder why. It's alright though, Timothée allowed me to borrow one of his shirts.”

“Wait you already saw Timothée?”

“Yeah, he just left.”

Paulina grimaced slightly knowing how hard it might've been for two introverts to reunite after a long period of time, let alone after they had a fight last time they were together. She quickly changed the subject not wanting to upset you.

That didn't mean she wouldn't plan on rebuilding your bond.

۵

The snaps of thunder kept you awake and the heavy drops of rain overtook your mind.

As the time pasted you began wondering what would happen if there was a monster under your bed, if a ghost yanked you by your leg, or if the shadow of the hanging coat was actually a person.

Full-on scaring yourself.

And Pauline's sleep talking was not helping the situation.

Both of you spent the day baking, eating and watching movies. Though it's not how most teenagers take up the opportunity of an empty house, it was more than enough for you two.

What was irritating you at this precise moment was the fact that you were exhausted during the day and still are, except you, can't bring yourself to actually fall asleep.

Creaking sounds were heard throughout the room as your feet made contact with the wooden floor.

You grumbled making your way to the kitchen for a cup of fresh cold water.

The bright electronic clock on the stove displayed the time. 2:23 A.M.

You were so dazed and distracted by the clock that before you could fill your glass with water, the cup fell on the counter.

You felt your heart stop the second the loud sound emitted throughout the quiet space, fearing you'd break your best friend's parent's glass. But once you realized that everything was still stable, you proceeded to finish your plan.

“What are you doing still awake?”

Your body jumped at those words. You turned to see Timothée with hooded eyes and slumped figure, clearly more than half asleep.

“Sorry, I'm a light sleeper and the thunder was keeping me awake.”

“Do you want to sleep with me?”

He smiled softly with a droopy gaze

Not gonna lie, initially some inappropriate thoughts crossed your mind, but vanished once you remembered how every time you had trouble falling asleep, you'd get in his bed and he'd make conversation until you fell asleep.

“Sure.”

Timothée was probably too out of it to understand why it had taken you so look to answer, which you were grateful for.

He lazily intertwined your fingers and led you to his room.

It looked the same as before, maybe some items we're missing so he'd be able to decorate his new apartment, but other than that, still the same.

You hesitantly laid down turning your body away from the curly-headed boy. You felt yourself heating up as last time you shared a bed you were a quite innocent 15-year-old, and to be fair you've always seen him as a bother figure.

But two years have passed and he was now 20, it felt like being with a stranger even though he wasn't.

“You alright?”

He mumbled quietly

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.” You chewed your lip anxiously. You've never been good at confronting people.

“Is there a reason why you got mad at me when you left. All I remember was you telling me how we couldn't be friends because of all the work you had and how you couldn't handle too many things at the same time. But in the end, you suddenly got mad at me and it ended in a huge fight.”

You could tell that Timothée was now fully awake, definitely not expecting you to mention the topic at this time of night.

“Well, in all honestly I knew you wouldn't want to give up on our friendship. I've always seen you as a loyal strong friend and I didn't want to disappoint you by continuously bailing out on our plans.”

Thought his solution was a stupid one, you understood what he meant. You would most definitely get let down many times and eventually get mad at him, even if it wasn't fully his fault.

“I understand. Just-- Just don't do that again. I'd rather have a relationship with you even if we rarely saw each other, instead of not seeing you at all. I miss being with you.”

Timothée's heavy arm hugged you closer to him. So close you could feel his gentle heartbeat against your back.

“I'm not as much of a mess I was back in the first year of college. I have more spare time, even if college is too far we can face time and meet once a month.”

It was nice to witness his change in attitude regarding the situation, he's now more open-minded and optimistic.

“Is that why you seemed so tense when you saw me today?”

You suddenly felt yourself redden from slight embarrassment “I mean yeah. I kinda overreact a lot, but you know that. I didn't even recognize you, you've changed and I didn't know how to feel.”

You felt chest shake from a deep chuckle as you played with his fingers “Is that a good thing?”

He was making you flustered and he knew it.

“I mean, yeah. You look mature for a 20-year-old. When you were 18 you still had your baby face- it's not a bad thing at all, but now you, um, okay I'm just going to stop talking.”

Once again, Timothée's body shook slightly from his laughter which eventually died down.

There was silence once again, the downpour was hitting the window aggressively but managed to make you feel calm. The heat that radiated from the man's body was wrapping you in a warm blanket, his cold breath tickling your neck.

“How do you see me?

The silence was halted by your simple question “What do you mean?” his raspy voice asked, not understanding the question very well.

“Before you said that you saw me as a loyal friend. How do you see me now?”

Timothée turned your body to face him “Well, you've changed as well. You don't look like a little kid anymore.”

You hummed in response staring into his eyes. The moonlight was shining through the window behind Timothée, illuminating his hair, making it look as though he was wearing a halo around his head.

“Has anything interesting happened while I was gone? House renovations, dead grandma, boyfriends..?”

You had to cover your mouth from bursting out laughing “How the hell do you go from dead grandma to boyfriends?”

The boy shrugged his shoulders waiting for an answer “I had a boyfriend for a little while but it didn't work out.”

Timothée nodded for you to keep going

“He treated me differently when we were around his friends, kinda like he didn't want me. We would get into a lot of arguments and I just wasn't happy. So I ended it.”

He took your hand caressing it carefully with his thumb. You knew he was trying to make you feel better though you weren't actually sad about the breakup. You decided not to say anything against it since his action-filled your heart with butterflies.

“He's an asshole for doing that.”

“Yeah well, most of them are.”

There was a small pause in the air before Timothée spoke up again

“I wouldn't do that to you.”

You were taken aback from his sudden confession. You expected him to joke around about some dumb stereotypes.

“If you were my boyfriend, or just in general?” you asked genuinely curious to which he answered:

“Both.”

You being the anxious human being you are, decided to play it off as a joke. Like always.

“Yeah right, you would never date me, you might as well be one of those extra frat boys that-”

“Why would you assume I wouldn't date you.”

You were becoming more and more agitated, not fully grasping the meaning of his words, and why he was now saying it.

“I've always adored you. The reason why I never said anything is because I'm three years older than you and didn't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Why are you saying this now?” You shuttered out as he moved closer to your body.

“I didn't realize how much I loved you until we separated. Now I'm realizing how much time I wasted.”

Timothée began breathing heavily, his eyes focusing on the different features your face held.

“Would you date me now?”

He nodded, not trusting his voice to speak. “Even if we wouldn't see each other often?”

He nodded once again, this time speaking “I haven't seen you in two years and I still have feelings for you, they won't go away even if I tried.”

Timothée let his fingers gently brush against your lips studying them thoroughly making your mind hazy.

You were so focussed on each other that the background noise was now muffled.

Your mouths were agape wanting one thing and one thing only.

“Can I kiss you?”

He whispered breathlessly. If he wasn't studying you so closely he would have missed your little nod.

But he didn't miss it.

The second the small gesture was caught, was the second his lips made contact with yours.

The kiss was heated and desperate, your eyebrows furrowed hopelessly from the connection. Tongues soon intertwining as Timothée held himself on top of you for better control of the situation. Not giving you room to escape.

You sighed through your nose not being able to break from the kiss, not wanting to break from the kiss.

His front pressed flush against yours, allowing his hands to travel all over your body with no hesitation.

You mumbled Timothée's name against his lips before you broke apart. “Did I go too far?”

You smiled at his worried state “No, I loved every second of it.”

He copied your smile resting his forehead on yours “Sorry, I could help myself.”

He laid on his back before you cuddled to his side, leg wrapped with his and head resting on his shoulder.

Timothée observed your crimson cheeks and swollen lips. He wanted to tease you about it but he knew damn well that he looked the exact same.

Sleep eventually took over you. The soothing sound of the storm was the last thing you heard, and the motion of Timothée's chest calmly rising and falling was the last thing you felt.

[semischarmed]

Cocktease

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes...” mused a deceased Harland as he eyed a future acquisition.

The specter licked it’s lips in greedy anticipation, taking note of the sun-glazed man in front of him building a substantial fort in the sand.

Beautiful curves baked in golden sunset outlined the man’s every muscle. Harland gawked as he followed every bend and bump of the man, committing his form to memory. He continued to hover his intangible mass near his future skin. The man’s hair was jet-black, and gently spiked from ocean water. The man’s muscles moved expertly beneath his skin, revealing their strength. This was a body sculpted through years of work, hard-earned and built for power. Unable to control himself further, Harland began to caress the man’s body from behind, causing him to jolt in a shiver.

“You alright there, Marco?” A small petite woman waved from afar.

“Y-yeah, just a breeze.. Sorry for the scare Val!” He shouted back, reassuringly as he shook off the odd sensations.

This only prompted Harland to continue further, deeper. Harland was as ruthless of a businessman as he was effective. In his day he was never one to compromise. He loved a good, dirty fight. He relished in the struggle. A vessel of this much resistance was made for him. This time around, he dug his spectral fingers into Marco’s golden arms, causing a slight ripple in its muscled flesh. He watched in glee as he traced the outline of those forearms, causing the fine hairs he dragged his intangible hand through to glow briefly and settle white. Property of Harland.

Marco meanwhile went from small jolts to a slight convulsion, as he felt something inherently wrong penetrate him. There was something otherworldly to the sensation he had just felt. Moments later a stream of vile, negative emotions flooded him, causing him to laugh uncontrollably. 

Marco knew something was wrong. These were not the bright, sunny laughter he normally gave off. They were cruel, callous laughs which sent chills down his spine. He had no idea his body could even make these sounds. He glanced at his biceps and recoiled in shock as he viewed stray muscles writhing and moving on their own. Marco felt an enhanced sensation in his arms, like an increased awareness in his control of them yet by that very same sensation was an unnatural numbness to them. By all accounts, they were his arms but something was off. These appendages attached to him could hardly qualify as his arms. There was something not-Marco to them that his brain couldn’t quite resolve. Every movement he felt was unnatural, like he had to actively focus on moving every single muscle just to get his arms to move the way he desired.

Marco began to worry in his head, as more and more of his body began to follow in the same feeling. He ran through the day’s events, trying in vain to discern what could have caused these sensations. Then, his legs buckled and he collapsed into the very fort he had built earlier. 

In sweat and sand, in struggle and sun, Marco began to convulse on the ground. His desperation unseen by others, shielded by the pile he excavated to make the fort.

He thrashed and shook vigorously, as more unfamiliar sensations flooded him.

The feeling was moving throughout him. It was unmistakably living. And it was drawing closer to his head. 

A stream of drool left Marco’s mouth, as his shaking quickened. Veins bulged in his face and throughout his body as seconds later, his eyes began to roll back.

“F-Fuck!!” He shouted. 

“Mmmm yes, ‘Fuck’ indeed” an elderly voice inside him spoke.

“What the-“

“Pleasure to finally meet you... I’m Harland”

——

Marco grasped his head in pain. “W-what the fuck do you want?! 

“The answer to that question should be quite obvious.” Marco’s own lips spoke this time. His pained expression loosened and all visible struggle drained from it, as Harland commandeered Marco’s pretty face as his own. A hand still half-controlled by Marco shook in place until it eventually relented and caressed his face in rough unnatural motions. “I want this”. 

“GET OUT” Marco shouted in protest. His body shook violently in one swift motion before settling.

In a brief instance, Marco again found full control of his body. He let out one sigh of relief before passing out. 

——

Stirred awake by the sound of gently rolling waves and the vibration in his pocket, Marco awoke from a nap that had gone for far too long.

He viewed his phone, taking note of the hours lost in slumber. A new text from Val. 

“Today was fun, had a client booked. Was gonna wake you up but you looked way too cute like that. Let’s do this again sometime. Maybe no giant sandcastles next time ;)”

He laughed gently as he spoke to himself “Damn, quarantine has really done a number on your stamina, eh Marco?”. He continued to slowly get up from the hole he had created himself- stopping every few moments as if to anticipate another fight for his body, despite writing off the entire event as a dream. “Must have dozed off or something.” He kept repeating rationalizations to himself, chalking the whole thing up to an illusion born of fatigue. Yet somehow deep down, he knew it was all too real. Something foreign, something unnatural was still there with him. Still Inside. 

All reservations aside, nothing out of the ordinary seemed to have occurred since waking up and Marco began to even slightly believe his own little lie.

“Of course it was just a dream”.

As soon as Marco began to truly relax himself, his body shook into rigid, unnatural poses, defiantly showing its owner his error.

He attempted to get his bearings, grasping at whatever he could, only to catch loose sand with his arms. In the midst of Marco’s writhing, a toothy sneer pulled itself from his lips.

Harland spoke using Marco as his mouthpiece. “You didn’t seriously think I would just leave all of this?”

Marco’s own struggling hands began to grope and fondle his body.

“Don’t worry, having me inside will a whale of a time- you’ll see” he spoke, trailing of in a moan as his fingers circled sensually around his nipples. “Being my new body will make you successful beyond your wildest dreams”

Marco felt an odd warmth build inside him. 

“Get the hell out of me!” He shouted in desperation. 

In that moment, he was hit with a tremor of earthshattering pleasure- burst from deep within his abs, pulsing and delivering into the rest him. His arms splayed out, his hips swung into unnatural angles, as he was forced to ride the wave. In the aftershocks from the initial burst, his limbs couldn’t help but twitch slightly in unprompted delight. Marco had never felt anything like that before. His body couldn’t help but leak a little precum in anticipation. 

“Some propriety is called for, young man. At least try to hide it.”

Embarrassed by the small stain that now appeared on his underwear, Marco began to shout back. 

“Shut u-sh-shit… oh shit… holy shit holy shit” attention was immediately drawn to the second tremor inside himself. Once the second wave hit, he could only manage to barely contain an unprompted moan in his throat. 

Marco tried to readjust himself, to acquaint himself with the pleasurable feelings and fight Harland’s onslaught on his senses. Instead, the pulses were getting quicker, stronger.

His abs were in pain, body sore, veins engorged. Muscles strained from their fleshy confine as they involuntarily contracted and relaxed in rapid succession from the increasing frequency of the pulses.

Marco laid in the ground shaking, riled up in pent up fury and ecstasy, expecting sweet, sweet release- only to be met with disappointment as his body, the very body he worked so hard to sculpt, betrayed its master. There would be no respite from the onslaught of pressure inside him. In fevered, labored breaths he cried out to his tormentor. “J-Just do it…. ah ah a-Holy shit. Take me. FUCK. We’re so close… please”.

Marco’s head hung back while his mouth contorted into a pained expression. The corners of his mouth twitched in place as the Harland new face took on a dark, lecherous expression.

“No, you were made to please me! You’re not getting a drop of this!” In that instance, something inside Marco’s body clicked into place.

This was it, Harland could see himself begin to manifest through his newly-acquired Marco-template. Marco’s eyes took on an evil, soulless demeanor. His hair began to flush white before settling into a dark gray color between Marco’s and Harland’s. All along his body, similar changes had occurred, cementing this new flesh as not-quite Marco and not-quite Harland. 

Of course, the mind was a vastly different matter. Marco was no more- his body only the template from which Harland had fashioned his new corporeal form. Harland devoured his mind, connecting the new body to its sole owner.

Marco was no more- for he was now fully Harland incarnate. Lewd fingers began to explore the body they were attached to, tracing over Marco’s biceps, his shoulders, and his thick neck. His fingers continued to drag themselves among raw other crevices in his body, before gliding down his abs, down the treasure trail and landing gently around his cock. Harland scooped the bit of precum still on Marco’s dick from earlier.

The newly-minted man let out a smug, venomous smile, as he sucked his new fingers clean. 

“Quite a delicious partnership”.

…

Though his mind no longer existed, Marco’s body was still pent up in lust and pressure, still attempting to shake and still yearning for that sweet release. With Harland in command, it was subjugated to stillness. Marco’s body continued with build in near-orgasmic heat and pleasure, further amplified by Harland’s mental fortitude. 

But even Harland himself could not deprive this new virile body for too long. His hand went back in and quickly grabbed his engorged cock.

With closed eyes, he gave it a light, sensual tug, nodding in approval as he let out a short moan.

“We’re at the home stretch, bud”.

Another tug. This time, with a slight roughness. There was no hesitation to it- this was now his body after all, he knew how to please it best. 

“You-this flesh was built for me, you just didn’t know it….and as for myself, I was built to control this to rule you… sorry I took so long to get home. You must have been so lonely building up all that muscle, sculpting all this without me inside to wear it” Harland stated as his free hand began to caress random parts of his body. The tugs began to quicken and his eyes fluttered in sheer delight.

“One final piece…” he moaned

…

In a quick jolt, Harland stopped dead in his tracks. Cum rapidly pooled over his hand, but he paid no mind to it.

He muttered but one word to cut the silence.

“Incompatible.”

In a flurry of feathers and a burst of red light, the two men finally realized their true form:

April Fools!

---

Note: Not actually a huge fan of the fried chicken company in question.

[kzuhadovey]

kentaro’s confession

character: kentaro kyoutani x reader

type: fluff (angst if you squint rlly hard)

warnings: blood, injury, cursing

song recommendations: still into you - paramore

welcome to more word vomit. i’m in love with him and i plan to write more angst for him so yay :DD ALSO ENEMIES TO LOVERS!!!!

You and Kentaro Kyoutani have been enemies ever since you stepped foot in the school. He was always rude to you- insulting and stealing stuff from you. He often made fun of you in public- but you’ve learned to get used to it. A fight almost always erupts when you two are together. He’s always learned to hold back though- to not hit you. Eventually, you’ve grown accustomed to his insults and fits, and you know that he’s just picking at you. You’ve never thought for that to go this far though.

“You’re horrible!” You shout as you try to grasp the already destroyed chicken sandwich in his hand. You’re both at practice, the others are eating lunch inside while you and Kyoutani were fighting over a stupid sandwich. “Stop doing that you brat! Just eat another one- this one’s mine!” Kyoutani shouts back as he pulls you on your shirt. “But I grabbed it from the vending machine first!” You shout, hitting his arm. “Oi oi oi! I’ll buy you another one, Y/N, It’s fine!” Iwaizumi shouts from behind you, trying to stop the fight. “Buy Kyoutani one- this one’s mine!” You say as you jump to get the container. “You brat!” Kyoutani shouts before tugging on your shirt. It was supposed to be a light tug- to get you to stumble backward- but you know- he’s strong. 

 He ends up literally throwing you backward and before you could grasp on his shirt your back is on the floor. “Ow!” You shout as there’s a sharp pain in your leg. Everyone comes rushing to you- but they just observe as you try to sit up. “Y/N. Oi. Get up.” Kyoutani says, a hint of worry in his voice. Your face contorts in pain as you try to sit up. “Oh my god- you’re bleeding a lot.” Iwaizumi says as he notices blood on the concrete floor. You look down- there’s a pool of blood under your leg. You raise your eyebrows in surprise and glance at your leg. There’s a nail in your leg- it’s not in the whole way and it doesn’t look rusty. “Y/N? Are you alright? Does anything feel really painful?” Oikawa asks as he comes to your side, looking around. “Uhm- there's a nail in my leg.” You mutter, tears pricking your eyes as you try to pull the nail out. “It’s okay. We’ll take you to the clinic.” Iwaizumi says as he loops his arm around yours. “Y/N- are you okay?” Kyoutani asks quietly. You glance at him- he looks worried but he still has that rude glint in his eyes. “H-here. You can have the sandwich.” Kyoutani hands you the half-destroyed sandwich. You and the boys are looking at Kyoutani- was he joking? “You can have it. Sorry.” You mutter. You can’t even look at him- your leg was bleeding a lot. “A sandwich? Seriously?” Iwaizumi mutters as he and Oikawa work together to carry you to the clinic. As the three of you went away, Kyoutani instantly went to scrubbing the blood away even if he hated chores, feeling guilty. 

You walked into the court, a bandage around your leg and crutches in your arm. "Hi, coach. Sorry for not attending yesterday-" You nodded towards your leg. "My leg got stabbed by a nail. I'm okay now." You said, smiling and you observed the court. The boys were playing, including Kyoutani, who wasn't paying attention to anything but his ball. You sat down on the bench, sighing. It had been a couple of days after your accident, and you couldn't walk for at least a few days. It sucked really- the team (excluding Kyoutani) visited you and gave you flowers- so that was okay. The boys continued playing until the coach called break. You stood up, ready to give them their bottles.

"Eh? Y/N's back!" Hanamaki shouted, waving at you as the team approached the benches. "Y/N!" Oikawa said, wrapping you in a very- sweaty hug. "Tooru- stop." You say as Iwaizumi drags Oikawa away. "How's your leg?" Iwaizumi asks as he kneels and touches the bandages softly. "It's okay. I probably can walk already but my dad told me to use the crutches in case I fall." You say as you pass him his water bottle. Your eyes are scanning the room for someone without a bottle- and you spot Kyoutani. He's standing there, surprised. "Excuse me, Iwa." You mutter as you walk over to Kyoutani carrying a cold towel and a bottle. 

"Here you go." You say quietly and pass him his bottle. "T-thanks," Kyoutani mutters, looking down at his things. His heart is swelling with guilt- you could almost see some tears even. As you turn around, he grabs your hand. Holy shit- was he gonna insult you now? Calling you a dumb person? "Can we... talk? Please." Kyoutani mutters. Hm. That's unusual. You don't think much about it and you head outside, hoping he would follow you. You can't have 1 conversation without the boys listening to you.

You're looking at your fingers, unbothered as Kyoutani fiddles around with his shirt. "What did you want again?" You protest, rolling your eyes. This was getting annoying. Kyoutani looks up at you, a bit embarrassed. "I wanted to- uh- apologize for the nail thing." He mutters, avoiding eye contact. Ah, apologies. You expected him to just act like nothing was wrong- but apologizing was cool.  "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to throw you back and made you bleed- I really didn't know that there was a nail. If I did, I would have become more careful." You honestly wanted to just ignore and just pick a fight with him- but the apology sounded genuine. God, this was embarrassing. "Okay. Thank you for apologizing. It wasn't your fault anyway." You say, smiling a little. You felt pleased with yourself- the Kentarou Kyoutani had apologized to you. He looks up- with a small smile on his face. It was the first time you've seen it- it was... pretty. "Thank you so much," Kyoutani says. 

He hadn't expected to be forgiven. He honestly thought you would just slap him then walk away- he was very surprised. So with that, he engulfed you in a hug. An actual hug. You paused. Was he- hugging you? The Kentaro Kyoutani? He’s warm, and he’s actually a really good hugger since he’s taller than you. You don’t know what to say- it’s nice to be hugged by him once. He suddenly pulls away- and his hands are cupping your cheeks. “Kentaro-” You’re about to protest when his lips are on yours. Was he… kissing you? Your eyes shoot wide open. You try and look at him- his eyes are closed, and he looks- genuine. His lips taste like caramel- and a bit of sweat. Shit- might as well just enjoy it. You kiss back, closing your eyes- when he pulls away. His eyes are empty- and he looks nervous. “Shit.” Kyoutani mutters. You hear cheers from inside the building- was this a prank? “Kentaro…” You mutter, looking down. You don’t know what to say- what to feel- did he like you this whole time? Was this just a big joke? “I’m sorry.” Kyoutani mutters as he walks back into the court, leaving you alone. 

“Y/N, you don’t need to mop the floors this time. Just mop it once you can walk again, okay?” The coach says as he observes his clipboard. It snaps you out of your trance- you’ve been thinking of Kentaro the whole time. “Yes, coach.” You mutter, standing up to walk away from the benches. “Y/N!” Oikawa shouts. “Hey.” You say, not paying attention. “What you gonna do bout Mad Dog?” Oikawa asks as he walks next to you. “I want to talk to him- but it seems like he’s avoiding me.” You look at the figure across the court, drinking his water angrily. “He’s chugging that shit down like it’s fucking vodka,” Oikawa says as he eyes Kentaro, disgusted. “Do you want to date him?” Oikawa asked. “I dunno. I gotta ask him some stuff first.” You say. “Do whatever you want, love. Just know that he’s liked you since like- the first time you’ve stepped in the court.” Oikawa says, walking away. Since… the first time? Didn’t he hate you? You catch him staring at you- with curious eyes- what could he be thinking about? 

“Kentaro. Kentaro- we should talk.” You say as you approach him. Kentaro’s eyes go wide- holy shit were you talking to him?- “About… what? We have nothing to talk about unless you want to fucking fight me again.” Kentaro says, avoiding eye contact. His cheeks are red- he’s shy. You smile a little- it was kinda cute. “You kissed me. Or did you forget?” You mutter, smiling widely. His cheeks turn even redder- making you smile wider. "Well- that was an accident." He mutters, looking down. "Oh~ so you just- leaned in and pecked me on accident?" You ask, folding your arms. "Well-" His cheeks become even redder- how was that even possible? "Kyoutani. Explain." You say. "There's nothing to explain. Leave me alone." He folds his arms and puts on a confident look- his cheeks a light pink. "Liar! You've liked them since they've been manager here!" Oikawa shouts from behind you. Instantly, his confidence falters and he covers his face- secretly cussing Oikawa out. You shoot a smug smile at Kentaro. “So- you’ve liked me since last year- why were you so mean to me? Stealing my shit and insulting me?” Kentaro looked down- his head was very busy- with comebacks and replies, and he was even thinking of just kissing you right then and there. “Because I like you, I guess,” Kentaro mutters, looking down. “I don’t know- how to tell you.” He scratches his neck awkwardly, waiting for a reply.

So it was true. He did like you. All those times, he’s insulted you, stolen your stuff- it was a silly crush. “Poor Kyoutani. Can’t even confess to his crush.” You say, smiling widely. You were so so happy. You had finally gotten an upper hand to his teasing- so here you were teasing the fuck out of him. “Shut up,” Kyoutani muttered. “I really like you, Y/N. Don’t take it as a joke.” Kyoutani says. For a moment, you pause. Holy shit- he actually liked you. The gears finally clicked in your head and you smiled. “Hey. Kyo.” You say, taking his chin and he looks up at you with very- very cute eyes. It was impulsive really, but you kissed him. It was now his turn to be surprised- he was ready to literally stab you- but he just kissed you back in an instant. You were impressed- he was good at kissing. You giggle into his lips- feeling happy and warm. 

“They’re kissing! Iwa-chan, you owe me 50$!”

A/N: i kinda went empty at the end sorry- i hope it’s nice tho :DD