#i feel like the month started off rly slow n tiring (not bad just long) but this week has been nice so far and i'm feeling good i think !

[soulmvtes]

just submitted my last essay!!!!!

[hykwrld]

𝐍𝐂𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 + 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀

pairing: nct dream (mark + 00 line) x gn!reader (afab anatomy)

contains: consensual!!! somno, slight dirty talk? it’s like one sentence (jeno), dom/sub dynamics, subby renjun <3

a/n: it’s my birthday!!! so please take this as a small gift from me to you 🫶🏼 i don’t rly like this but i hope u guys enjoy and i’m so so so sorry that it took me like 2 months to write this :’) i promise that i’m working on the other requests and the markhyuck 3some and i hope to be able to write/post more consistently <3 ily guys mwah mwah

MARK LEE

mark’s a little hesitant about it at first when you bring it up. you’ve told him over and over again that you’re okay with it, that you trust him to know your limits, but he’s worried that he’ll accidentally lose control and go too far, especially since you won’t be conscious to stop him. you don’t push him, of course, wanting him to be just as comfortable as you are when trying something new. you add, though, that unless you explicitly say otherwise, he always has your permission to test it out. about a week after you initially discuss it, mark comes back to the apartment to find you fast asleep in bed. he gently peels back the blanket to get in beside you, seeing that your top has ridden up a little to reveal your abdomen, soft, slow breaths passing your lips as you occasionally murmur something incomprehensible. 

he chews on his lip, taking in your sleeping form. you look so peaceful and innocent like this, lips parted a little and he feels his mind begin to wander. he thinks about pushing your top up a little further, the thin material of your shirt out of the way to show off your tits, your nipples perked up because of the sudden exposure; if you’d even wake up when he started playing with your pussy, how quickly he could get you to soak through your panties. before he can stop himself, his thoughts become a reality and his hand is shoving your top up, groping your chest while the other slips under the waistband of the shorts you had on, starting to rub through your folds. a little whimper passes your lips, thighs closing around his hand, making mark’s cock swell embarrassingly quickly. as he continues his ministrations, your moans only grow, a damp spot forming on your panties. your breathing grows heavy, cheeks warm and mark decides that he might just prefer this over your initial look. he feels perverted getting off on this, but his mind is running wild and he can’t stop, especially with the way you’re starting to squirm from the pleasure. maybe this isn’t so bad, after all.  

HUANG RENJUN

renjun acts like he despises the idea, but secretly, he loves it. in some ways, it’s a romantic thing for him. there’s so much trust involved and he enjoys being able to make you feel good in any way, this included. he just hates (read as loves) how much control you can gain over him when you touch him in his sleep. there’s a fairly equal power dynamic between you, taking turns being in control when you’re in the right mood, but when he’s asleep, he becomes putty in your hands, pliant as he melts into every touch. that just so happens to be the very reason that you adore it. waking him up with your lips wrapped around his hardening cock or, even better, your warm walls clenching around him guarantees you the best reaction from him; whiny, little moans mixed with whimpers as his tired eyes flutter open and he tries to figure out what’s happening in his sleepy daze before giving in and letting you milk his cock. you’ve reassured him dozens of times that if he doesn’t like it or the dynamic that tends to arise, he can always tell you to stop, but with flushed cheeks and a downward gaze, he tells you that it’s okay, that he loves it. 

that’s why you know he won’t complain when he wakes up to your hand slowly stroking him, his bottoms and boxers tugged down his thighs, precum dripping onto his stomach. his face looks calm and peaceful, long lashes fluttering occasionally, lips parted slightly. it isn’t long before he starts whimpering, soft, little sounds passing his pretty lips. his expression shifts a little, breathing starting to grow heavy as you continue to work him up. you settle between his legs and start kissing at his thighs, lips sucking faint little marks into the creamy skin when you first notice him start to stir. his moans are getting louder and his brows furrow, hands gripping the sheets below him. he wakes just as you dip your head down to wrap your lips around him, barely comprehensible pleading falling from his lips as he grows closer and closer to his high. he’s whimpering and whining, body so pliant under you as he looks down at you with dazed, teary eyes. 

“p-please, please, please let me cum, ‘ve been so g-good for you.”

LEE JENO

as much as jeno loves the idea of touching you while you sleep or being touched in his sleep, he prefers both of you being awake. jeno gets off on seeing you feel good, seeing him make you feel good and he feels like he’s being deprived of that if one of you is asleep. that doesn’t mean that he won’t try it though. he knows your body so well, knows just what to do and where to touch you to have you writhing under him in minutes. he takes his time despite that, pressing soft, little kisses down your jaw and neck to your chest, letting his large hands roam over your body. jeno spreads your legs and gets settled between them, slowly tugging your bottoms off. his earlier actions have your panties growing damp, cute, little spot growing as he continues to gently grope your body. his fingers slowly start rubbing you through the fabric and he relishes in the sweet moans you start letting out. he quickly grows impatient though, tugging your panties down to bury his face in your sopping cunt. you smell so good and taste even better, and jeno would happily die like this, drowning in you. 

your noises only grow as he starts eating you out, tongue lapping through your folds desperately like a man starved. your fingers start curling around the sheets, body twitching from the pleasure. his nose nudges your clit, the sensation making your thighs threaten to close around his head. he uses his hands to keep them apart, determined to wake you up to the best possible climax. your head is foggy with sleep, but you quickly register what was happening, crying out as he brings you closer and closer to your high. you make eye contact and that’s what sends you over the edge, releasing on his tongue. he licks it all up thoroughly, looking up at you as you slowly relax.

“sorry, baby, you just taste so sweet, couldn’t wait.”

LEE DONGHYUCK

he practically dragged you to bed the first time you mentioned it and it’s become a fairly regular thing since. hyuck loves the idea, loves that you trust him enough to let him touch you while you sleep. the two of you had always been experimental, this being a random suggestion that had come up and donghyuck can’t get enough of it. this night, he can barely sleep, half hard in his shorts. he debated touching you now, reaching down to feel your cunt throbbing with need for him, but he always preferred waking you up in the morning so he forces himself to wait. 

he wakes up a little bit earlier than usual the next morning, happy to see you still curled up to him. thoughts of his plan from the night before fill his mind and he observes you for a little, trying to figure out if you’ll wake up any time soon. once he’s sure that you’re still fast asleep, he pulls the blankets that cover the two of you down. he’s thankful that you don’t wear a bra to bed, nipples hardening under your top from the cool air. he plays with your tits through your shirt for a little, relishing in the sleepy, little moans you let out. when he pulls away, you seem to settle a little, but when he pulls down your bottoms to reveal your soaked panties, he knows you’re affected by his touch; maybe you had even gone to bed with it on your mind like he had. he quickly pushes your panties aside, running his fingers through your folds and watching you twitch. he pulls his shorts and boxers down, stroking himself a couple times before slowly easing into you. you’re so warm and tight, hugging his cock perfectly as he thrusts shallowly. you’re moaning softly now, fingers gripping at the pillowcase. you clench around him, still somehow asleep and he nearly cums then and there, willing himself to wait a little longer. his thrusts get a little quicker, reaching deeper parts of you and that’s when you stir, whimpering as your sleepy eyes look up at him. his cock is nearly pistoning into you at this point and you cum shortly after, face warm and head a little fuzzy.

“h-hyuck?” you whimper and that’s the last straw for him, one final thrust and filling you with his cum.

“morning, baby”.

NA JAEMIN

there’s nothing that jaemin loves more than waking up to feeling your messy cunt clenching around him as you fuck yourself on his cock. he loves watching you use his body for pleasure, especially when he’s sleeping; it just shows how desperate you are for him. both have you have set your boundaries and there’s enough trust there to know that the other won’t go any further than you’ve specified. you couldn’t lie, jaemin’s willingness to let you do almost anything you wanted worried you at first, but after the first time you rode him while he slept, you couldn’t get enough. something about having sex with him while he slept so peacefully made it that much hotter. he always wakes up just as you cum, catching your fucked out look through his tired gaze and you can practically see the lust once he realizes what’s happening.

it’s perfect when he had a rough day, waiting until he’s fully drifted to sleep before tugging his boxers down to reveal his soft cock. just a couple slow strokes has him hardening in your hand, precum gathering at the tip soon after. using that and some spit, it’s easy to sink down onto him, walls stretching around him. you always wonder how he doesn’t wake up with the way you’re moaning so lewdly, bouncing on his cock so that his tip reaches your sweet spot every time. the way he stretches you out no matter how many times he’s fucked you along with the visual of him still asleep and the groans that begin to slip past his lips is enough to bring you to your orgasm fairly quickly. jaemin always wakes up at the perfect time, seeing just how far gone you are from his cock, watching you with a tired smile on his lips. he hasn’t touched you once and you’re falling apart, his cock and your thighs sticky with your release, eyes dazed and a little teary, lips shiny with your spit. he thinks you look heavenly, especially with the way you’re practically chanting his name.

“having fun, angel?”

[i8jisoo]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 ⇉ skz with pregnant!reader 

changbin x reader | part three of dad!skz

↬ genre; fluff & angst for a lil bit woo

↬ warnings; talk of perinatal depression, cursing, n labor 

↬ notes; changbin babi 🥺  ALSO ITS CHANGBIN DAY WOOO ITS MY BABYS BDAYYYYY SO I HAD TO POST THIS |

u two had just freshly started an official, public relationship

ofc changbin was freaking out while he was chilling in the bathtub behind the curtain so u could pee on the test already

u two were looking at the line coming in, praying that there would be only o n e 😳

slowly the other line comes in, dark blue n clear alongside the other one

“holy fuck—“

“what do we do?” you asked, your voice wavering while setting the test back down

his hands cupped your face, giving u a soft kiss n hugging you

“we got this, we’re having a baby, baby!” he started to joke and yall burst out laughing while crying in the bathroom

the first few months were amazing

ur lil bump sprouted out n u two were so happy about it

changbin is just so attentive and excited about this pregnancy and his first born

u really couldn’t have been better with ur lil family that was starting to become realer with each day

u two r such bullies yall r like

“what happened? ur a softie now binnie!!”

n he’d say shit like, “well at least i don’t pee every hour on the clock!!”

he makes u cry one time n u use that against him everytime u want something bc he feels guilty >:)

cute lil things like asking the baby what they want to eat or talking to it before the bed

(changbin reads the baby goodnight moon one time and ur just so in love like wow 🥺)

he secretly talks to the baby when you sleep every night because hes waiting for when ur little bean will reply back with a kick or a hand

he is W H I P P E D for u n ur baby bump

nursery is already done at five months

he needs all of the boys to come over though to help him figure out the instructions 😳 these are co nfusi ngg

they notice how smiley n giggly he is when he talks about u two and looking at the finished crib hes just so proud

yall r so happy and content with ur baby that was an accident, but u guys are so happy this happened

but something changes within u

changbin notices your lack of interest in the pregnancy during ur sixth month

ur sleeping pattern was off n u would sleep for hours during the day and night

u were very irritable, not wanting changbin to cuddle with u or kiss u like he did everytime he came back from practice :(

u were always unhappy and always so moody, he just wanted u to be happy 🥺

he is so confused and worried ab u, some days ur not eating or some days u don’t even wake up in the mornings like u used to

sometimes— just sometimes he’d come back home to find u in the same spot, asleep

he’s so fucking scared when ur around seven months that he can’t hold it in anymore

“are—are you okay?” he questions u from the doorway, making u stop to look at him in the mirror

ur eyes were cold, setting down the towel u were drying ur hair with and leaving him by himself while heading into ur bedroom

“don’t you dare fucking walk away from me.”

ur s h oo k

he was really nice during the pregnancy everyday, super bubbly and kind so u were shocked to hear his upset tone

“i can and i will, i’ll just go sleep in another fuckin room.” u mumbled, changbin grabbing ur hands and turning u around to face him

u struggle for a bit while ur arguing with him and telling him to let go so u could go to sleep

“stop! i am your boyfriend, i am the only one who is going to care for you like this. i am the only one who is dying, seeing you like this. do you understand? we’ve been through seven months of this together, it was fine for awhile and now you’re fucking turning me away?”

hes shouting at this point, hes just so pissed after three months of not having answers and your attitudes and arguments, he cannot handle it

u start crying

hes quick to hold you, pulling u down to the bed so u don’t have to stand on ur tired feet anymore

“i don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 🥺🥺🥺

he insists u two will find out n u both will get thru this rough patch together

perinatal depression, they diagnosed u

changbin is so upset when he hears the doctors tell u

everything is making sense to him and he’s just so heartbroken he didn’t put two and two together earlier

he takes time off for the time being to make sure ur taking care of urself

hes watching u like a hawk but trying not to make it evident

the first time u ask him for a kiss, he gives u dozens

he hadn't been asked for kisses in so long he was so relieved 🥺

he’s constantly telling u how beautiful u r and talking to ur bump about how they have the best genes and their uncles

this man is a father already it seems

he is ur #1 face mask partner cause he buys the cute ones only because u deserve the cute ones that r ur favorite ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜

cooking together is something that happens, not often but every once in awhile he will let u do small things

cut up some lettuce? sure! pour in the soup broth? of course u can! taste test his food? always.

he wants to make sure ur comfortable with him touching u or kissing u or what hes saying

“i love you.” he’s mumbling, quickly placing a kiss against the fabric of one of his own shirts that was worn by u and fit u like a dress still

he then goes up to ur cheek n presses a kiss to it, ur hand cupping his jaw and letting him kiss ur lips >.<

also u guys let out a quiet talk of pregnancy to the public, letting jyp release a notice on changbin’s absence from live-streams and posts with the boys

u two received a lot of positive feedback which changbin let u read the positive ones n loved when u smiled at each one

u were overdue by a week which was the worst, ur back hurt and u had migraines

u also were put on bed-rest for the next week before u could be inducted

u guys waited out the week and u got scheduled for an induction

the labor was really slow which sucked because u just wanted to hold ur baby already :(

rly intimate moments like chan just holding u n rocking u like a baby

u guys are given this position to move the baby down, your knees on the ground so u could kneel against the bed and changbin would hold ur hips n rock them

he just feels so bad he can’t do anything to help u with the pain 🥺

yall kinda vibing with the hospital food (idk bout yall but some food from hospitals smack chile)

“i just want to go home.” :(

u bet ur ass he scoots into ur hospital bed, holding ur hands n u just cry into his shoulder

he feels like his heart is being torn to pieces when he listens to u cry out of pain

his free hands holds your jaw, making u look up at him

“we’re almost done baby, okay? i know it hurts, if i could i would take your pain in a heartbeat. you are incredibly strong and i’m so proud of you. you just need to hang in here for a few more hours, yeah? you think you can do that?”

u give him the weakest smile ever but its better than nothing

u reach 10cm!!!

now the part that wasn’t fun was the pushing :/

u were hurting, u were tired, and u had been promised almost seven times that all u need was one more push but no matter what, it seemed like the baby wasnt budging

“the cord is wrapped around the neck, we need you to stop pushing. okay?”

ur too tired and stopping the pushing sounded good so u did as they said but when they told u they needed to actually reach in and unwrap it ur blood ran cold

u both were worried about how much u could take

u screamed, god it hurt and it felt like hours of them twisting but it was a mere minute

the labor progressed n there it was

“a girl!”

u two are like faucets or waterfalls

shes literally the perfect mixture of u both 🥺

he washed her hair n helped wrap her up in a blanket, giving her over to u for the first time

u both were just in love with her, she was absolutely perfect

he’s obsessed with her, taking in that baby scent, the scent of the light baby shampoo and the bit of baby powder that lingered throughout her onesie

her hair wooooww its so soft n fluffy

her little baby pout and her puffy cheeks

i can see him calling her bunny for awhile as a childhood nickname

he’ll just be like

“oh that’s my bunny!!”

weird look from u but ur heart melts while he bounces her in his arms n gives her some kissies and running his fingers thru her hair

he’s also rly soft, i don’t see him singing but i see him definitely whispering to her about how she’s gonna grow up and have the best life because thats his little girl

“ur gonna have eight uncles, they are crazy but it’s okay. u definitely lucked out on fathers though, i’m pretty good at lullaby's. u did get great genes too, u have a handsome daddy and a gorgeous mommy. we worked really hard on making u, please don’t hurt ur cute little face. u also have a storm coming, there’s a thing called stays, they are gonna adore you, i promise.”

omgomgomgomg jejejejeje im blushing at the thought of this i just adore dad changbin 

u guys may or may not be planning for another but it definitely would happen in a few years

©️ maysdiors 2020 :: all rights reserved. do not repost my work on tumblr or other platforms.

[raindropsxrosesss]

I have a secret

Requested: Yes by @maybebanks​ ! thank you so much for requesting

Hi! I have a request for u! Jj x reader where y/n is a kook and her and jj are dating. None of the pogues know that they’re dating but they see jj has a crush on her. Jj always sneaks into y/n’s house and surprises y/n. One day when she gets back from a shower she sees him and screams because he shocks her. Her parents come in because they think she is in danger and then they see jj and the dad gets mad and the mom thinks it’s cute. Y/n sticks up for jj and it’s rly cute💕💕

Summary: The request (I'm so bad at summaries lol)

Warnings: maybe some cringy writing idk

Genre: fluff

Word count: 1.45k

AN: requests are always open unless it says closed in my bio. Enjoy the story <3

~~~

Kooks and pogues. Sworn enemies of the Outer Banks…or at least they should be. However, that wasn’t the case for you and JJ Maybank. You are known all over the Outer Banks as kook royalty, and JJ is as pogue as they come.

You had met when JJ was looking for well-paying jobs off of the cut and your father needed some things done around the outside of your house. He was mowing the lawn right outside your bedroom window on the hottest day of the year at what felt like the crack of dawn.

~~~

It was an early Sunday morning, and you may or may not have been a little bit hungover from partying on the cut with Sarah. That is where you had met the heartthrob that had every female, and some male, pogue, kook, and tour on wrapped around his finger. There was no doubt he was charming, and you tried so hard to hold out, to not give in to those damn eyes, but like everyone else you were trapped in what felt like a trance.

“Hey, do you think you can be a little quieter?!” You yelled as you stepped onto your balcony leading from your bedroom. “God, what year is it?”

“Sure princess let me just find the volume button!” He yelled his snarky comment over the loud noise. Jj quickly turned off the obnoxious machine and made his way over to where you stood. “You’re Sarah’s friend? Right? And Rafe’s girl?” He quizzed you. Any chance he could get to mess with Rafe he would take. And taking his girl? Oh, that would be the sweetest revenge!

No, you technically weren’t “Rafe’s girl” but you and Rafe were kind of something? Maybe? I don’t know you kinda messed around and went to parties together. You tried to stop his drug addiction when you could but he wouldn’t listen. You wanted a real relationship so bad, but not bad enough to fall at the feet of JJ Maybank. He was the fuck and forget type and you were sort of already in that kind of relationship. If JJ wanted anything other than that he would have to work for it.

~~~

And work for it he did. Every Thursday morning he would come by your balcony being extra loud and annoying and you couldn’t help but yell at him. Later the yelling turned into play fighting which turned to feisty flirting. It didn't take long for JJ to want to do something with you but he quickly realizes you wanted something more when he went to ask you out.

“So princess I was thinking we could go to the Party tomorrow at the boneyard like together and shit! What do ya think?” JJ said after climbing a tree to get onto your balcony. This was a common occurrence, him leaping onto your balcony, making his way throughout your room, and toying with your fancy perfumes and fun sunglasses.

“What I think JJ is that once I say yes you are going to drop me like... like yesterday’s newspaper, and I am not a newspaper!” You let out a frustrated sigh. JJ turned around and backed away slightly to give you some space. “I want a real relationship JJ, for once in my life I want something to be real. I don’t want a relationship my parents set up for their damn business gain! I’m tired of all these fake ass kook friends. I want real friends! You and the pogues have such a great friendship, I want that!” You flopped down onto your bed, looking up at the ceiling. JJ stayed silent as he laid down next to you.

“You’re dating Rafe just because your parents are business partners?” You nodded “That’s so messed up!” JJ sighed “Listen, I like you, a lot. Your different than all the other kooks I’ve had the utmost pleasure of meeting.” JJ started to talk in a funny British accent to which you laughed at. “Look as you may have guessed, given by golden reputation I have never been in a real or serious relationship, but I’m willing to change that for you. O-only if that’s what you want of- of course!” He started to stutter nervously. You sat in silence for a moment.

“That would be nice JJ.” You thought for a moment “Do you want to ditch the party tomorrow and do something like just us?” You looked over at him nervously. JJ says up with a smug smile on his face. You followed his actions and sat up.

“You askin me out, princess?” You hit his arm playfully.

“Oh shut up!”

~~~

Flash forward to now where you have been dating JJ for about four months. You had broken up with Rafe and your parents were not happy, but they saw your smile when you would come home from secretly meeting with JJ and they figured there was someone else that gave you butterflies. Your mom was a little more supportive than your dad because, in his eyes, Rafe was the perfect match, but then again he would do anything to make you smile.

Like always JJ would sneak into your room and pick you up for your date or just hang out in your room of your parents weren’t home. This time was no different. You were going out soon so you decided to shower before your date and that is when JJ decided to sneak into your room, knowing your parents were home. As you got out of the shower and walked out in your pajamas and your hair wrapped in a towel, JJ jumped out from around the corner tickling you. “OH DEAR LORD! WHAT THE HELL!” You exclaimed a little too loudly.

”Shhhh baby!” JJ hushed you as he laughed. 

“Shit do you think my parents heard that?” That’s when your parents stormed into your room ready to attack.

“What the hell was that?” “Sweetheart are you ok?” your parents voiced their concern. “Maybank? What is this?” Your dad’s eyes stared holes into JJ’s head. You were in front of JJ as he had his arms around you, still holding your sides. He backed away at your father's questions and put his hands up. “You see sir.. uhh funny story really! You know the thing is-” “He’s my boyfriend!” You said before you slapped your hand over your mouth. You let out a chuckle of disbelief. You can’t believe you just said that. “Oh really? So this is the boy you replaced with Rafe?” your father now stared at you, his movements slow and precise. 

“Yes, and before you say anything about him being from the cut, he makes me really happy. I don’t feel like an outcast when I’m with him. JJ makes me feel important and loved and when we talk there are so many butterflies in my stomach I might as well open a butterfly farm!” You tried to make your father laugh just a little bit. “He is selfless and kind and gentle, and I hope you can accept him because he really is an amazing person”

“Oh well isn’t this the cutest thing I ever did see! I’m not crying nope not me!” Your mother was always so emotional.

“He makes you happy?”

“Very much.”

“Is he respectful?”“The perfect gentleman.” You said looking back at him smiling and reaching out to grasp his hand.

“Then it is ok with me. Son comes here.” Your father motioned his finger to JJ. JJ quickly stepped up to your father. “You hurt one hair on her head and your dead before nightfall. You understand me?” JJ nervously chucked “Yes sir.” They shook hands and JJ retreated back towards you.

“Do you two have any plans for tonight?” Your mother questioned.

“We were just going to see a movie or something. Why momma?”

“How about JJ stays for dinner? Your father is making baked macaroni!” 

“What do you think J?” you looked at him with pleading eyes. Baked macaroni was your favorite. You knew by the look on your mother's face your father had no intension that night to make it but she was trying to get you two to stay in.

“Why not! I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in a while.” “THANK YOU!” You kissed his cheek as your mom excitedly made her way off to the kitchen. 

As your father left your room he shouted: “Next time use the front door kid!” “Yes sir!” J shouted back as he saluted to you with a funny face.

“Well know that you met my family... when do I get to meet the Pogues?”

“Soon princess”

~~~

A/N Yay I am so happy I finally got this out! If you want to be tagged in any future fics just sent me a message. My asks are always open if you want to leave a request just know that I take my time when writing so it may be a while before your request is published.

Taglist: @drewswannabegirl @obx-direction-sos @maybebanks @shawnssongs @spilledtee

Some moots:

@tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @obxmxybxnk @roxa-sos @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge @poguesrforlife @baby-bearie @surferkie @katie-avery @poguesgold @poguestyleskye @mrsmaybankhere @diverdcwn @rudyypankow @midnightmagicmusings @collecting-stories @overly-b @cognacdelights @tweedlydumbtweedlydoo @maybanksmalfoy @socialwriter

[whumpthisway]

Huck and Stephen - Provoked

OC Nonhuman Whumpee and OC Master fic

This is a series - link to 01. Masterpost here <3

A/N: This came from @newbornwhumperfly’s really good prompt: ‘excellent!!! i love daydreaming about poor huck 😩😩😩 so, we all know that huck has very low self-esteem & thinks they’ve conned stephen into a good impression of them, yeah? so does the sense of shame at their “undeserving” status ever overwhelm the pleasure huck gets from being treated kindly? like, have they “let” a situation happen where stephen would have to yell at or punish them for being the bad pet they know they are? if they did, would that plan work? 😈😈😈 - newbornwhumperfly’ Thank you for this!!! <3 <3 rly hope you like it, it ran away a bit with me and idk if it’s the tone you were looking for but yh >.< <3 This one is set to fit in sometime after Nighttime and Huck’s been living with Stephen for around a couple months. Again, please ask me for specific tags or warnings if you need them or I miss something :) Also, this one is dark in a mental way, as Huck’s in a pretty bad place, so pls read the warnings.

Content warnings: past abuse, self-harm, very very low self-esteem, panic, self-destructive behaviour

*

(Huck POV)

With a belly comfortably full of pasta, Stephen’s gentle hand rubbing between their ears, and a blanket nestled over their back as they curled up on the sofa, Huck should’ve felt content. They shifted restlessly at Stephen’s side as he watched the same archaeology programme he watched every week, and almost always with Huck’s head resting against him. They’d become part of Stephen’s carefully maintained routines, and Huck was beginning to feel permanent.

“Getting bored?” Stephen muted his show as he turned to look down at them kindly and Huck looked back at him.

“No, Master.” The restless discomfort itching under their fur didn’t feel like boredom at all.

Stephen sighed a little, and Huck didn’t even flinch. “You don’t have to call me that, Hucky.”

Huck dropped their head and shrugged. They knew. But they’d forget their place completely if they stopped.

Stephen offered them a slight smile and rubbed a finger under their chin before he turned the sound back on for his show.

Huck settled for a while, before they couldn’t help but fidget again.

“You know you don’t have to stay, lad. Go do something else if you want, hm?”

Huck hummed back. They didn’t know what they wanted and just huffed and tried to stay still. But the blanket was too warm and they kicked it off, looking down at where it landed on the floor. They ought to pick it up and fold it; Stephen liked things neat, but they didn’t move, for reasons they couldn’t explain.

Stephen glanced over too, and Huck felt his slight tension in how his hand paused in Huck’s fur. For the first time in a long while, Huck’s heart up-ticked as they waited warily for Stephen’s reaction. But Stephen just turned back to his show after a moment, listened to a man with a trimmed, white beard talk about ancient pottery.

Huck didn’t know exactly why they’d done that with the blanket, but when they deliberately pulled away from Stephen’s fingers rubbing the back of their neck, they knew what they were looking for.

Stephen’s hand hovered in the air a second after Huck moved away from him, but he only looked over at Huck once before settling his hand on his thigh.

It was stupid. Completely stupid, but anger swelled up inside Huck and they found themself growling like Stephen had deliberately stepped on their tail, not just politely respected their space.

This time, Stephen fetched the remote and switched the tele off and Huck went stiff, their growl falling silent as their throat felt like it closed up.

“What’s the matter, lad?” Stephen looked more puzzled than angry. “You don’t want me to pet you anymore?”

The thought of Stephen never running his short-nailed fingers through their fur again made Huck want to cry. But they still felt so painfully restless and irritated and frustrated and it was all directed at Stephen, though he’d done nothing to deserve it.

They couldn’t answer, so stayed sullenly silent. The light crows’ feet at the corners of Stephen’s eyes deepened as he frowned.

“Talk to me,” he coaxed. When Huck kept their jaw clamped shut, their ears pressed back, Stephen reached out slowly as if to put a hand on Huck’s back, but giving them plenty of time to pull away.

Their hackles went up and they growled again, low and upset. “Stop it!” Huck’s exclamation startled both of them and Stephen quickly took his hand back.

“I’m sorry.” Stephen pressed his lips together, but there wasn’t a hint of anger in his face. “I won’t- didn’t realise it was upsetting you.”

Huck ground their teeth together and flexed their claws, which caught on the sofa fabric. Normally, they’d very carefully extract them so as not to pull any fibres out, but this time they didn’t care. If Stephen didn’t like their behaviour maybe he should actually do something about it.

Stephen startled at the sound of Huck’s claws digging and tearing the sofa cover. They were sharper and longer these days, without Master Parry clipping them right down to the bed on a regular basis.

“Huck!”

Huck couldn’t meet Stephen’s eyes but they didn’t stop, digging their claws in further, a growl vibrating through them. Do something, they thought viciously, do something, Master.

“What’re you-” Stephen was agitated and his hands hovered uncertainly in the air. “Huck, enough, we can talk-”

Huck ripped their claws free with an awful tearing noise. “NO!” They didn’t want to talk.

Their eyes welled up with a mix of fury and fear, and they kicked off the back of the sofa, springing off the cushions to land on the tiled floor, already scrambling for purchase to run away.

They’d never have run from Master Parry, nor damaged his possessions, nor talked back, nor talked at all, once he’d ordered them not to. But Master Parry had known what they were, had known how disloyal and awful they were deep inside and he’d known how to deal with them. Stephen thought they were too good to deserve punishment, but he didn’t know, he didn’t know Huck at all.

Sobbing uncontrollably between gasps, Huck’s frantic legs carried them up the stairs, down the corridor and into the bedroom, where they skidded under the bed. They hit their back painfully against the ridge of the bed frame when they didn’t duck down quick enough, but the sting was almost a relief.

Crawling further under, the dust making them cough, they pressed themself up against the wall and cried in great, choking heaves. They didn’t deserve Stephen even a little, but they still wanted to stay so badly it made them feel sick sometimes.

Stephen left them alone for a little while, even though Huck couldn’t stop their crying, which was definitely loud enough for Stephen to find them easily. Huck tortured themself with thoughts of Stephen making phone calls to Mariann, demanding she take Huck away, that’s he’d had enough of Huck’s stupid behaviour. It’d been more than two months, Huck thought, and Stephen had made it clear when Huck arrived that he didn’t want a long-term pet. He’d been horrified by the thought.

Huck’s breathless crying had finally petered off by the time Stephen’s slow tread climbed the stairs. Huck’s breathing hitched at the familiar sound and they hunkered down further, hiding their face in their paws, ears pressed down and tail curled up close to their legs.

“Huck?” Stephen sounded tired and Huck felt guilt surge in them, amongst the mess of their feelings. Stephen had had a long day working and he’d just wanted to relax, but Huck had messed that up for him. “Lad, where’re you?”

Huck couldn’t bear to let Stephen waste time looking for their useless hide, so they whined softly, and then again louder when Stephen didn’t seem to hear.

Stephen’s footsteps approached, scuffing a little in his tartan slippers, which appeared first in Huck’s line of sight from under the bed. Stephen crouched down slowly, and Huck could picture perfectly the grimace on his face at the strain to his knees, and Huck started crying again, silently now. They were so, so bad.

“Huck?” Stephen stuck his head under the edge of the bed and Huck couldn’t help but cringe away. Stephen’s eyes couldn’t see as well in the dim light as Huck’s could, Huck knew, but he’d seen Huck’s flinch, because his face turned briefly hurt. And why wouldn’t he be? What had he ever done to hurt or threaten Huck? Nothing. He was the kindest owner, and he deserved a creature that was as good as Stephen was, not a disobedient, sullen, damaged one.

“I’m a bit lost about what that was all about,” Stephen said quietly, in that soothing tone he’d used right after Huck had first arrived, “but let’s talk about it, okay?”

Huck sniffled and pressed their forehead to the floor, hiding. They were beginning to shiver as the rush of emotion and adrenaline burnt off and left them cold and exhausted.

“Huck, please come out.” Stephen sniffed, the dust clearly getting to him. “I’d rather cut off my own thumb than hurt you, and it’ll take more than a torn sofa to change that, love.”

Huck swallowed thickly. “You should, Master,” they whispered.

Stephen was silent for a long pause. “I should what? Cut off my own-”

“No!” Huck yelped. The thought was awful and they didn’t know why Stephen had brought it up. “Hurt me, you should hurt me, Master.”

Stephen eased into a more comfortable position on the hard floor. “Why should I?” Huck squeezed their eyes shut. Wasn’t it obvious? “Huck? Why’d you think I should-”

Huck interrupted him again, just like the shitty pet they were. “I’m bad.”

“Huck,” Stephen said softly, “you’re not bad.”

“Yes I am!” Huck yelled, loud and sudden enough to make Stephen blink and lean marginally backwards. Huck gulped and ducked their head.

“What’s bad about you?”

Huck cried harder. “Everything,” they gasped. “You should- get a- a better pet, Master.”

They thought of another creature living in Stephen’s house, a sweet, pretty one that smiled a lot and never cringed from Stephen or woke him up with nightmares or cried all over his jumper. And where would Huck be? They deserved to go to a Master that’d discipline them, but they felt so sick at the thought they choked.

“I don’t want a different… companion. I like you.”

“You- you- you,” Huck couldn’t get their words out and swallowed thickly.

“Take your time, lad.”

Huck rubbed their paw over their eyes. “You only say that because you’ve, you’ve never had a good pet, Master.”

Stephen paused and Huck tensed, expecting Stephen to finally realise that Huck wasn’t worth his time or his care.

“Huck, I care for you very much, lad. I wouldn’t trade you for any other creature or human, not now and not when we’re both old and creaky.” Stephen tried weakly to smile.

Huck’s heart squeezed. “You should have a better pet, Master.”

“Who says I should? Can’t I choose who I want to spend my time with myself?”

Huck tensed. Stephen was right; Huck’d been telling their master that his choices were wrong. They’d been trying to do what was best for him, but that was no excuse for trying to give their master orders.

“I’m sorry, Master,” they whimpered.

Stephen shifted a little on the hard floor where he was still crouched down, frowning gently at Huck.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Huck heaved a sob.

“I argued with you,” they choked out, trying so hard to make Stephen understand. “I told you what to do! I tore up the sofa! I wouldn’t let you pet me and I ran away and I cried like a weak, stupid-” They banged their forehead hard against the floor, “awful-” Their head thumped the floor again.

“Huck!” Stephen barked, before his hand shot out and reached under the bed, stretching out towards Huck’s shoulder. “Stop it!”

Huck didn’t. Stephen wouldn’t make them be a better pet, so they’d do it themself.

“Huck!” Stephen sounded sharp and desperate. “Stop right now!”

Before Huck could do it again, Stephen’s hand found their arm and he pulled them, hard, out from under the bed.

Huck yelped, more shock than pain, though Stephen’s grip was rough. They were tugged out into the brighter light of the bedroom and then Stephen wrapped both arms around them and held them tight, one hand cradling the back of their head.

“Don’t do that, don’t ever do that.” Huck was shaking badly enough that it took a moment for them to realise that Stephen was trembling too. He was holding them close, like they might try to run away again. “Why’d you do that?” Stephen had his forehead pressed to Huck’s shoulder and Huck felt his tears seeping into their fur. They were too shocked to feel properly guilty, but it’d come.

“I don’t deserve a good Master,” Huck whispered. Their head was throbbing badly and they closed their eyes, going limp against Stephen.

“Yes you do.” Stephen rocked them gently. “You deserve every good thing. You’ve been through hell and- and those asshole owners of yours,” Huck tensed, “they told you it was your fault that they treated you like shit. But Huck, it was their fault, okay? No-one should treat anyone like you were treated, y’understand? You’re a good lad, a good person. You’ve always been good.”

Huck curled their tail around Stephen’s foot and couldn’t help but melt into the comfort Stephen offered so freely, even though they shouldn’t. They weren’t a person.

“Sometimes,” Huck whispered, “I watched Master Parry get into his car, out of the window. And- and- I wished that he’d die. I wished that another car would hit his car and he’d just-” They were crying again, waiting for Stephen’s disgust. They were always just waiting for it, for the moment he’d turn away from them, but it never happened. No matter what happened, Stephen never did. And he didn’t now either.

“He beat and abused you, lad, from what Mariann’s said. You wishing him to go away… there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re allowed to be angry at him.”

Huck shook their head. “I’m just a bad pet, Master. A good pet would never, ever think like that.”

Stephen eased away from them, but only far enough that he could meet their eyes. He rubbed their back for a long moment, looking thoughtful.

“Huck… can you, can you accept that I don’t think you’re bad? That I think you’re good just as you are? Maybe you don’t believe it, but just, believe me when I say you make my life better?”

A better pet would make you even happier, Huck thought.

But they knew what Stephen meant, and they did believe that Stephen thought that. He was too just too kind.

So they nodded silently and Stephen smiled a little.

“Alright. We’ll talk about this more in the future, okay? And just, promise me if you feel like- hitting yourself again, tell me, lad, please?”

Huck chewed their lip, before nodding again. They deserved punishment, but Stephen was right; he got to decide whether or not Huck got punished, not Huck. And if Stephen wanted to spoil them, then Huck should let him, however uneasy it made them feel. Their feelings didn’t matter after all, only what made Stephen happy.

*

Taglist (THANK): @smolnarwhal @free-2bmee @ffaerie-dustt @mortifiedwhump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @Usernames-suck-but-i-like-whump @whumpity--whump--whump @quirkykayleetam @haro-whumps @oracle-of-maybe @whumpersworld @whumpqhs @deluxewhump @quoththeraven-what @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @pennsss @whumpzone 

If you want to be added or removed (or I missed your name off), drop me an ask or DM <3

Anddd, if you like my work, here’s my ko-fi page :)

[smalltragedy]

* brigette lundy-paine, nonbinary + they/them | you know kirby wormwood, right? they’re twenty five, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, two weeks? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to ring ring by mika like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole balancing acts at perilous heights destined to entertain, jack of all trades master of none, refusal to accept the mortal world as it is thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is december 1st, so they’re a sagittarius, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( james, 21, est, they/them )

hllo welcome 2 my third character i love them a lot theyre a. remake of an older oc of mine so this is fun <3 sdfhk anyways once again i am asking u. pleathe like if u wld like to plot.

ARSON TW

mini playlist.

wizard ;; lucas lex / ring ring ;; mika / crows ;; clues / sunrise sunset ;; bright eyes / la llorona ;; beirut / no children ;; the mountain goats / might be love ;; the pesky snakes / sax in the city ;; let’s eat grandma.

statistics.

full name: kirby wormwood (currently).

nickname(s): magpie.

birthday: december 1st, 1995.

zodiac: sagittarius sun, aries moon, libra ascending.

mbti & temperament: estp & improvisor / sanguine.

label: the hellion.

hometown: abilene, texas.

sexuality: bisexual.

pinterest.

biography.

alright lets get right into it. kirby ws switched at birth. they cld’ve hd a very like. picket fence trampoline in the backyard. 4 columns cos its texas n it feels right. bt instead they were chosen <3 somewhat unintentionally <3 by dorothea n fawley wormwood, two traveling circus workers who emergency stopped in abilene.

n u know what. growing up in st. pierre’s traveling circus ws kinda fkn awesome? like ok. besides the fact tht they were homeschooled fr like evr n there were a sparing amt of children 2 socialize with? it ws p cool idk.

it ws kinda like everybody ws their parent n also not at all bc they were all very casual. bt they grew up learning hw 2 maintain the circus (n also like. normal school thingz bt i dnt think kirby hs ever cared abt school like ever) n whenever they hd a show kirby wld facepaint or handle tickets until they were old enough 2 start learning like. the Real fun things. 

fawley hd a lot of his own weird odd little like superstitions n beliefs n practically raised kirby on them like n they dnt rly <3 make a lot of sense. lots of made up philosophy. very much like. nothing defines u. u cn b anything or anyone. n kirby ws like ok cool. n then developed a god complex.

names didnt rly stick 2 kirby when they were a kid like. nothing satisfied them or felt worthy fr them or simply they just. got tired of a name. this isnt related 2 them being nonbinary BUT it did help ease some of the. pressure of exploring gender identity. theyve only hd one name tht stuck genuinely n tht ws magpie n. thts bc everybody hd their own bird name n it felt very. like community. like a role. usually the names they used during performances bt. anyways KFHDSGLKKHL

theyre Kirby bt answers 2 most. neutral nouns.

honestly. they were also a rascal as a youth. ws like. oh. i learned sleight of hand? cool. time 2 pick pockets. wld throw popcorn into the hair of other kids n b like. omggg what was that ... became a mime fr a year. it ws a rigorous training.

now a master of charades. bt anyways. they traveled pretty much weekly, maybe bimonthly n sometimes just pure monthly. there wsn’t an off season fr them, when the colder months came they’d travel south and when summer rolled in they’d go right back up again. it ws easy to switch personas almost daily n just. never reveal ur true self. totally not saying tht’s what kirby did bt thts what they did. it nvr made them lose sight of themselves it ws more like. acting. tricking ppl fr fun. 

anyways all good things come 2 an end and when kirby ws like. 18. they were like hey ur old enough that we cn trust u with fire. we think. n they started 2 learn fire-throwing n like. they were ok at it bt lessons were painfully slow n kirby ws like. i wld b so good at this if i cld do it all the time. n it ws like. hey kirby, chill. u already know a lot of things.

arson tw // u see where this is going. tents are kind of flammable. kirby ws unsupervised. bad decisions all around. circus is aflame. all the animals n all the circus workers got out fine bt like. st. pierre’s ws efficiently out of business. arson end of tw //

n kirby fkn booked it they just. ran. pure fear. nvr looked back which is like super traitorous of them 2 do bt. sometimes they meet up in secret like. sunglasses n all at a coffee shop. not all of them just like. fawley or someone else. theyre like. ur family u cld burn down a thousand circuses n we’d still love u. n kirby is like yeah i know bt i’ve rly committed to the bit now. n they dnt reunite.

anyways. since then kirby hs just been. a traveler. nvr rly staying anywhere fr super long n driving around in their shitty little van tht’d been used as housing back at st. pierre’s.

they’re in irving n theyve been there fr almost. suspiciously long. compared 2 their average stays. when asked abt what they do or why theyre there theyll just. give a vague answer or spin a long tale tht usually involves a burning circus.

theyre staying at uh. abernathy creek rn bc of course they r they fit in so naturally. welcomed with wide arms. might b soul searching rn might b on the hunt fr their birth parents might b just vibing ... whose to say ..

personality & facts.

has a Big personality tht attracts others fr better or fr worse. either super likeable or the most despicable person on the earth. no in betweens. n honestly tht is a talent in itself

has no off button is constantly. spinning tales or performing a dance or getting kicked out of bars fr whatever nonsense reason. 

honestly they prob think tht nothing bad cn ever happen to them even tho like. bad has literally happened 2 them before? love the optimism here. KLFGDLKFSDHGF

acts a bit like u’ve known them fr ur entire life they r oddly warm in tht way bt they themself r so distant tht its like. oh nice ok ...

both honest n yet dishonest like. yes they will hustle u out of ur money bt they will also tell u their opinion straight up. 

probably smart bt they r just like. prime thembo? flowy pirate shirts n cropped tshirts n pants tht r never tight. dresses like they do still work n live at a circus. 

likes 2 instigate things between others n then stand back n just watch it happen while taking like zero accountability. loves a good small town drama. avid milf hunter.

does not hv any faith in the american healthcare system at all n will straight up refuse 2 go 2 a hospital if they get hurt theyre like. i cn do it myself im like practically a professional. they r not a professional. 

bt does hv like. a thing abt apples. fkn loves them. 

uuuhhh cn play instruments bt all very badly. only knows one (1) song tht isnt made up n its wonderwall by oasis. they play it at parties. they expect fr tomatoes to b thrown at them at any given time.

very nimble. agile. granted its frm. learning circus tricks frm a baby age bt they hv impeccable balance n cn sneak up behind anyone without a single noise. uses this 2 their advantage in order 2 scare ppl. chaotic neutral.

loves having the attention on them i wont fk around here. will go to drastic measures to accomplish receiving it. my other muses r capable of taking things srsly bt kirby just. is not. they do not take a single thing srsly they barely even took. st. pierre’s destruction srsly n they caused it. maybe.

likes being able to just. be unknown so the amt tht ppl know abt them is actually very. little. i dnt think they even tell others their last name. sometimes not even their first. just hs so many aliases n nicknames. i know i didnt list any bt thts simply bc Any cld.

probably acts out to compensate fr the. underlying guilt they hv bt thts okay. i mean it isnt bt.

will probably show up if u call them fr help bt they lose interest in people p quickly n r always moving onto the next shiniest person. bt when they do they give them like. all their attention. if u wrong them in this period they will just. ignore it. bt when theyre bored then its like. u werent even friends at all? very odd.

perhaps it is commitment issues bt <3 ya. thts them. they do not claim favorite colors or movies or. most interests. probably bc theyre very very disconnected frm pop culture i think they learn everything thru twitter n google.

i wld not call them a good person bt i also dnt think theyre like evil horrible nasty awful they just. think abt themself a lot more than they think abt others n also refuses to face consequences ever and also .. anyways.

wanted plots.

part of the bird’s nest ;; honorary bird honorary circus member. u hv to be very well regarded by kirby to earn a bird name bt i feel like tht doesnt feel like a lot considering theyve only been here fr like. two weeks KDGDSHKGK. the catch is tht u cn only refer 2 them as magpie frm then forward. 

hand in unlovable hand ;; theres comfort in being terrible ppl together n it may not last bt it doesnt hv to anyways. its just them n the like. vibes. n knowing tht its smth thts nvr gna b long term. cld b anything ur character just hs to be also a little evil. KHDSGFDS

one jester ... wht abt ... TWO jesters .. ;; hoo boy. ooh man. unstoppable force and immovable object combine forces n just become. the worst of the worst. ultimate jokesters. epic pranksters. absolute clowns. chaotic energy unmatched. always nonsense. 

n also ;; ppl they’ve stolen frm, ppl who hv caught them in that act, ppl who’ve maybe seen them in the circus a very long time ago, Found Family Trope, real family shenanigans, kirby just asking everybody if theyre their dad., mortal enemies if they see each other its an instant duel 2 the death, etc.

[philcmenabadadink]

cisfemale — ever hear people say PHILOMENA CARMICHAEL looks a lot like NATALIA DYER? I think SHE is about 19, so it doesn’t really work. The FREELANCER is here because THEIR VAN BROKE DOWN and they are from WOODSIDE, CA. They can be WHIMSICAL, but they can also be APATHETIC. I think PHILLY might be N/A. ( snot goblin. 20. est. she/they. )

hi hello friends ,,, i bring to u my third character and the Newest Muse i have created ... which means i’m still working on her ! so pleathe bare w/ me as i have no idea how she’ll rly truly turn out. but !! as always, give this a LIKE and i’ll come bother u !!!

TW: CANCER, IMPLIED TRAUMA, DEPERSONALIZATION / DEREALIZATION DISORDER ( ALT. MENTAL HEALTH )

a e s t h e t i c s

wildflowers in your hair and bare feet against moss, binoculars and maps, madonna beating out of half-dead speakers in a half-dead van, whipping wind, jumping off cliffs and rolling down hills, a bandaid wrapped around each finger, cryptic bumper stickers and cryptids in the woods, facing the sun and letting the rays hit you, counting stars late into the night, mismatched socks and lucky ribbons, hoarding a box of special treasures, shoplifting and diner-dashing, bleach against roots, pink sweaters paired with ripped fishnets and slip dresses with knock off uggs, willingly wearing crocs, glitter stickers.

general info !!

full name: philomena brontë carmichael

nickname(s): philly, phil, mena, etc.

b.o.d. - april 20th lmao !!

label(s): the amaranth, the halycon, the neophyte, the wanderer, etc. etc.

height: 5′4″

hometown: woodside, ca

sexuality: ??? $500 ebay mystery box. pansexual if you had to label it.

pinterest

stats

biography !!

a middle child belonging to christopher and imogen carmichael - two stanford professors. christopher specialized in british literature whilst imogen specialized in the classics. hence the name.

the order of siblings goes as such: lysander, elektra, juno, philomena, and twins orion & valora. the deal was that everybody had a greek (or in juno’s case, roman) first name and a middle name inspired by a piece of british literature circa 1800s and under. a family of nerds, if you will.

so, clearly - right off the bat, their parents are ... eccentric. they’re both in love with their respected topic, and with each other, and with their kids. the carmichael family is a happy family.

they each have their own quirks and whatnot - though philly’s always been particularly dreamy - even as a child, she’d spend hours watching clouds or caterpillars or the leaves blow in the wind rather than play with other kids. she wasn’t a shy kid - she just had her own interests.

hardship doesn’t hit the family until philomena is five and starts having splitting headaches. they’re slow at first - but as soon as she’s seeing spots and unable to walk in a straight line, doctor appointments are made.

it doesn’t take long for them to discover the tumor, though the official diagnosis of malignant ependymoma comes a month later.

it’s grade ii but slow-moving, small enough to not be as much of a threat as worried, but big enough where removal is necessary. philomena earns a scar and brings it in for show-and-tell. for two months afterwards, philly’s at radiotherapy monday through friday.

they’re lucky - philomena’s considered cancer-free by the next year. she’s babied at first - handled delicately, as if she could break if touched - but with five other children ... it doesn’t last for too long.

and life continues as normal.

her personality doesn’t shift much over the next few years - she’s awfully independent for a kid, and awfully quiet - when she speaks it’s about faeries and bigfoot, about how the sky is so blue and if you listen quietly, you can hear the leaves whisper their secrets to each other. this is not odd.

she’s close to all her siblings, but she idolizes her older sister - elektra. elektra’s six years older and dyes her hair whatever colors she wants. elektra bought a knife off a seedy guy downtown. elektra threw away all of her heels and renounced god. elektra is god. her music is loud but it’s not heavy - it’s florence and the machine.

they’re opposites - elektra’s boisterous and feels loudly, philomena’s softer and feels...less. when elektra sneaks out, philomena keeps watch. they are a duo.

philomena is smart - but she’s fifteen and hates school. hates sitting inside all day. hates the same routine - day after day - it’s all the same. her parents’ routine is the same, philly feels contained and she wants to live.

elektra’s twenty-one and just bought a brand new spanking (used but not falling apart) 19-something volkswagen ... van - using her entire savings account. she says she’s tired of routine, she’s leaving the next day.

naturally, philomena stows away in the back and isn’t discovered until they’re two states away and she’s got to pee. elektra nearly crashes the van in shock.

it’s an argument - philomena vs. elektra, then them vs. their parents, then their parents vs. the school, the state - it’s an ordeal. philomena switches to an online program in the end.

it hurts christopher and imogen - lysander’s not having any of their nonsense, juno’s betrayed and alone - the twins are twins. in the end, it’s alright. the carmichael family is a happy family.

philomena and elektra take their time - it’s not a road trip, it’s their new life, permanently on the road. they stop and explore often - they do odd jobs in whatever town they settle in. they dine-n-dash, they shoplift. they survive in their own way. 

she drops out of high school officially when she’s seventeen - they have to drive all the way back to california to deal with the wrath of their parents and to deal with paperwork, but it’s done. philomena doesn’t know what path she wants in life - but it’s not that.

it’s during this time that the episodes occur - philomena’s outside her body, philomena’s wrapped in cotton, her memories are not her own. she’s looking in the mirror and she doesn’t recognize herself. they take shelter in a city for six months, long enough for her brand spankin’ new therapist to figure out what’s wrong with her. she’s diagnosed with depersonalization / derealization disorder - they think it’s stress. philomena doesn’t get stressed. they think it’s trauma. she laughs - she never laughs.

she gets medication, and life is normal.

it’s four years later and they’re in vermont when their good ol’ trusty van - affectionately named florence - breaks down in a town called livingstone. the cost is more than they have at the moment, and they’re stuck. philomena thinks she likes the town - but she doesn’t know about the watershed. 

personality !!

she’s quiet but she’s confident - her voice sounds like rustling leaves, if leaves smoked a pack of cigarettes a day.

often underestimated - philly’s petite and looks like she’d fall over if a plastic bag blew too close to her. she’s independent - for the most part. elektra is the only person philly takes orders from.

has always been considered odd - weird, strange. still talks about the trees as if they’re listening, as if they’re old friends. she’s vague and doesn’t elaborate on the things she says.

believes in pretty much any superstition you throw her way. luck is very important to her. if you ask her if the earth is flat, she’ll say probably. believes strongly in bigfoot and the lochness monster. has personally seen aliens, and loves ghosts almost more than herself.

she can be amusing - whether you ‘get’ her or not, her outlook is often bright - she talks about the negatives the same way she talks about the positives. can be seen as naive or gullible, but she’s plenty smart. even if half of her education has come directly from google.

philly doesn’t laugh. a smile, yes - often, in fact - not always reaching her ears, or bearing teeth - but these are not indicators of her happiness. philly is consistently content. she thinks many things are funny - she still will not laugh.

her voice is often monotonous - she doesn’t sound dreary, she sounds far-away. her voice carries. her emotions are often unknown to others.

is apathetic in most situations. she’s hard to bother - she’s incredibly patient and enjoys the company of most - tolerates them at the very least. it’s hard for her to express her emotions, because she feels them so little that it’s very nearly not worth it. her affection is not verbal - it’s small touches and gestures of kindness, love in her own way.

is a fan of knock-knock jokes and bad puns. she won’t crack a smile while telling you them, nor does she expect you to laugh. she just enjoys them.

she owns a motorola razr covered in puffy stickers - hasn’t ever had a smartphone. she’s a fan of emoticons. her favorite is :o)

has a lot of bruises and scratches and scars - she’s often getting herself into pickles. there are always, at the very minimum, three bandaids on each hand.

she has insomnia, so she’s awake often. is often seen wandering town - even when she shouldn’t be, even when it might be dangerous. her intuition is delayed. when she does sleep - her dreams are vivid and fantastical.

keeps a box of memories - sentimental bits and pieces she’s picked up over the last few years. there are a lot of buttons and postcards, but any teeny tiny object will do.

her style changes every week - most, if not all, of her clothes are thrifted. one week she’s baby spice and the next she’s lydia deetz. she combines pieces from different styles often - she looks like a barbie clothed by a child. she feels most comfortable like this.

will either patch-up the clothes that get too worn or reuse them in some way. sometimes donates the clothes she gets tired off - isn’t minimalistic, but she’s learned to keep only a small amount of possessions.

the only consistency is her lucky ribbon - it’s pastel yellow and silky and as thin as a shoelace. she ties it onto her outfit of the day, everyday. if she loses it, she’s lost. elektra has a matching ribbon.

has no problem with minor theft - she only takes bare minimum, puts herself and elektra first and that’s how it’s always been. she tries to be good while in livingstone - would hate to make enemies whilst florence is getting repaired.

they’re staying in a motel, currently, in the cheapest room they could get. philly will still visit florence. will sometimes go home with strangers purely to take advantage of a comfortable bed and a shower with better pressure.

it’s a common occurrence - she doesn’t sleep with them - but somehow, she weasels her way into their homes anyway. has come out mostly unscathed, on most occasions. this has been a practice ever since they’ve been on the road.

really, truly - has not slept with anybody, had her first and only kiss at thirteen with a frog. this doesn’t bother her. 

will consume a n y t h i n g you put in front of her - isn’t picky.

listens to whatever they’ve picked up along the way but she likes instrumentals the best. her second favorite genre is 1990′s and 2000′s top hits. they’re nostalgic for her.

loves storms - will go out in the rain and will risk her life for it.

owns a pair of roller-skates and is often skating rather than walking. unless she’s on grass - then she’s walking barefoot.

has many hobbies, and gets bored of them often. her favorite hobby is welding. she’s not certified.

also, juggles.

the kind of girl who’ll do any job you give her. odd jobs are her favorite jobs. babysitting is her least favorite - but she does it anyway. has lost children before. have they ever been found? not by philly.

dyes her hair blonde often and cuts her own hair - bangs included - finds it cathartic, likes the itchiness of bleach.

everything she does is often in pursuit of feeling free, alive, and meaningful.

wanted connections !!

random encounters - she’s new in town and doesn’t know many people - if anybody at all, so :-)

alternately, people she’s run into with elektra during their journey. whether they’ve stolen from them or stayed with them somewhere or just, ate dinner with them. anything.

someone whose couch she’s crashed on after a night of whatever - a party, adventure, etc.

people she does jobs for !! people who commission her to make stuff for them. people who need a babysitter.

people who think she’s weird - and those who like it. or those who hate it. people who don’t understand her - people who do, in their own way.

someone trying to get closer to her but she keeps slipping out from between their fingers.

a parental / older sibling figure !! they take one look at philomena and instantly want to swaddle and protect her.

people who take an immediate liking to her. people who introduce her to the music scene. people who show her around town.

someone who catches her stealing or about to dine-n-dash.

late-night walking pals.

a dealer b/c weed ? a thing.

someone who gets into a debate with her about conspiracies or superstitions or anything !! someone who gets frustrated at her apathy.

somebody who just immediately distrusts her for whatever reason.

??? you don’t have a smartphone ??? cue someone trying to teach her how they work - and philly hating it !!

thrifting pals.

m a y b e a hook-up, eventually, but it’s questionable.

something unrequited, likely on their end b/c philly is ... a hard egg to crack.

maybe something returned !! eventually. slowly. slow.

god ... someone she just tells her entire life story to. like this meme. 

i’m rly down to brainstorm and think of anything !!! dnt forget 2 leave a like :)

[vastfandoms]

Good, Not Bad

Sirius Black x Gender Neutral!Reader

Request: Omg you blog is perf! Rly specific I'm sorry Would you at all be able to write a Sirius x reader where Y/N is like crazy shy and would panic if he asked her on a date and say no so they hang out together as friends until she's comfortable with him (over a period of time) and then one day in winter or whatever they end up cuddling bc it's so cold but she's normally not at all affectionant and then he kisses her and thinks he's screwed up then she kisses him back? Also she turns red at everything.

A/N: How much am I a sucker for anything marauders? A Sirius one. Hahahaha, I hate myself :D I hope you enjoy this though! ALSO!!!! MY DUDES!!! I am planning on (trying my very hardest) to post something every day for this month. Whether that be a drabble or a fic, so please send drabble/headcanon ideas in!!! SEND IN ALL THE THINGS!!! 

WARNINGS: Mostly fluff, a passing mention of his abusive home/parents

Sirius Black was good at a lot of things.

He excelled at making his friends laugh, he was great at knowing how to wrap his professors around his finger. He was good at protecting his friends and cheering them up. He knew how to make you turn bright red or how to bring that small, shy smile he was so fond of. Sirius Black was good at a lot of things, it was true, but he was never good at making you feel comfortable enough to fall in love with him.

At first, he was persistent, he loved to watch you fluster and stutter out a witty response. In the beginning, he fell in love with the quietness you brought into his life. You were all flushed cheeks and sweet smiles as he spoke to you, trying to make you laugh, trying to be suave.

Then, it changed, pick-up lines turned into asking how you were, compliments turned into listening to your stories, smirks turned to smiles. Him teasing you turned to him being on the receiving end of his friends’ teasing.

There was something still, something comfortable and safe about you. Not home, because he never really had one - he didn’t really know the meaning of it. He knew that when he was around you, he didn’t have to be Sirius The Prankster, or Sirius The Trouble-Maker or Sirius The Disappointment. He was just Sirius. He was the Sirius he could be around his friends. The one who loved to joke and mess around with his friends, but he could be softer. He could let go of trying to be strong all the time.

Sirius Black was good at a lot of things.

He was good at flirting and cheering you up. He was good at shutting himself off, building a wall until you came and tore it down. He wasn’t good at sharing. At crying. At mourning. But with you, it became easier. You were there, sitting, listening, offering him a tissue and a soft smile at the end, telling him it would all alright.

Over time, you opened up. You still blushed when he teased, all hot cheeks and averted gazes, but you laughed openly, head thrown back and wide, toothy grins. You sat closer to him, squeezed his knee when he needed it, shoved him when you thought he deserved it.

You were good at a lot of things. You were good at making Sirius laugh. You were good at your work, and what you could do as soon as you put your mind to it. And Merlin, did Sirius admire you for it. 

“Hey,” Sirus smiled, sitting beside you in front of the fire, “when did you become the deviant?”

You rolled your eyes, pulling your blanket tighter around your chest. The sun had set hours ago, all of the common room occupants disappearing into their dorms with it. You had stayed in your room, tossing and turning in sheets which failed to warm despite your efforts. “Couldn’t sleep, it was too cold.”

Sirius nodded, “Yeah, it’s been freakishly cold lately.”

You nodded and pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping the blanket around you like a cocoon. 

“Are you okay?” He frowned, tilting his head as he looked at you.

You felt your face warm under his piercing gaze and shifted slightly, ducking your chin under the blanket. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you reassured, wondering when your heart had started to beat faster and that if it was as loud for him as it was for you, “just tired.”

He nodded, turning to the fire and letting the warmth wash over him.

“How come you’re up?”

Because I can’t stop thinking about you, he wanted to reply. “Lads were too loud with their snoring,” he said instead, “thought I might be able to catch some peace and quiet here.”

You wrinkled your nose in empathy, but a giggle still bubbled in your chest, “That sucks.”

He chuckled and the sound vibrated in your chest, pushing a smile to your face. “That’s one way to put it.”

You shrugged with a grin, a quick but comfortable silence falling over the two of you. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Sirius shift and you glanced over as he wrapped his arms around his legs. “Oh shit, sorry Sirius,” you immediately apologised, chastising yourself for not being more mindful. You unwrapped the blanket from your frame, moving closer to him and throwing it over the pair of you in a single action.

“No, it’s alright,” he tried to stop you as you adjusted the blanket, covering both of your feet and legs, “Y/N, really.”

You ignored him as you leaned back, satisfied that the pair of you were finally covered with the warm, fluffy blanket. “No, it’s my fault, if it was cold for me then obviously it was cold for -” you turned to look at him, breath catching in your throat as you realised suddenly how close you were, “you.”

You bit your lip, trying to push away the warmth that tingled your cheeks as you looked away. You kept your eyes on the flickering flames, hyper-aware of the way his shoulder pressed against yours, his warm arm against yours as his hand rested between you two. A thought invaded your mind, quickly and silently as you imagined what it would be like to slip your hand into his.

You settled for moving closer into him as you shuffled into a more comfortable position, closing your eyes and resting your head on his shoulder as your need for contact outgrew your anxiety about it. You weren’t good at showing how you felt. Most of the times it was through making sure the people you cared about were okay, making sure they were happy and fed and had someone to talk to. Physical contact was something you felt awkward about. Hugs always felt awkward and cuddling never felt right in your previous relationships. But this?

The instant calmness that washed over you at the small contact between you? It felt... right. You weren’t with Sirius, the Prankster, or Sirius, the other Black. You were with Sirius. A boy you had found yourself falling in love with the more his heart and life opened around you.

‘Hey, Y/N?” He asked softly, afraid to disrupt the serenity of the situation.

You hummed, cracking your eyes open.

“I... uh...”

You waited patiently, the worries and stresses of the day slowly melting away, blissfully unaware of the turmoil in Sirius’ mind. Sirius Black was good at a lot of things, but telling you how he felt about you was not one of them.

“I, uh, just wanted to apologise for being an arse when we first met.”

You smiled at the memory, “Yeah, you were a bit of an arse.”

His shoulders shook with laughter and you grinned to yourself, knowing that the man you knew now would never approach you in that way ever again. Sirius’ heart fluttered in his chest, painfully aware of the way your head nestled perfectly into the crook of his neck and shoulder, cheeks slightly flushed from the heat of the fire as your lashes fluttered against your skin. He had never wanted to kiss you at that moment more.

Sirius Black was good at a lot of things. Telling you he was falling for you wasn’t one of them. But he could show you. “Y/N?” He pulled away from you slightly, and you lifted your head, turning to look at him.

“I... I’m going to do something,” he brought his face closer to yours, your gaze flicked to his lips, wondering if he was about to do what you had thought about for so long. “Just... tell me to stop if I’ve -” his eyes flicked to your lips, you could feel his slow breaths as he spoke, but you weren’t really paying attention to his words anymore, “- got it wrong.”

Then, just like that, his lips were on yours. His surprisingly soft, warm, wonderful lips moved with yours in a dance only the two of you knew. Your eyes fluttered shut and your hand moved to cradle his face, a smile pushing its way onto your lips.

“You weren’t wrong.” You muttered once you pulled away for a breath, giggling softly as Sirius tilted his head to kiss you once again.

Sirius Black was good at a lot of things. Loving you was one of them.

[runwiththieves-blog]

coffee in the morning ;

“I could do that,” he states a minute later, and he nods his heads a few times as if it’s some sort of confirmation as he mulls it over, and you look at him like you’re confused.

“Do what?” You question, and he blinks at you.

“Be your boyfriend,” he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and it makes your heart beat a bit faster.

“You mean fake boyfriend.”

or

Harry and Y/N work at a coffee shop and he’s never been a good actor

12k+, fluff, smut, ripping of panties mid-fuck, and just a dash of angst

OKAAAY SO, i’ve been dead around here because i’ve been working on this for a few days now! special shoutout to @mermaidsonships for letting me yell about apple (that’s what we named the girlie in this amongst our texts) and harry as well as bounce ideas off of u! i love u sister! i’ve got a fixation of fake bf harry + harry being rly teasing so if u combine those 2 things u get this big mess of a thing! i hope u enjoy!

You hate talking to your mother on the phone.  

Correction: you hate that ever since you moved a few states away for university the only thing your mother seems to want to ask when you’re on the phone is whether or not you’ve made any friends yet or if you’re seeing anyone. It’s repetitive, annoying, and if you’re completely honest it makes you feel pretty bad about your current social life (or lack thereof). It wasn’t that you didn’t want an Instagram worthy college experience, you just never had time for anything other than a passing conversation with your roommate or one of your co-workers. Grades and a decent living were too important to let your priorities get mixed up. You had one goal: graduate, land your dream job, and then you can live your life. You’ve told your mom those exact words a hundred times over and her response is always the same: “I just don’t want you to feel so lonely, Y/N. Being a functioning member of society is important, too.”

You know she’s right, is the thing, and you think that’s probably why it annoys you so much. You already know. You know having someone who can really be there for you when you need a shoulder to lean on is important. You know that keeping yourself locked away in your apartment or in a library when you’re not in class or at work isn’t exactly healthy. You know that having no real life human interactions, aside from the ones you have at work, isn’t the way to convince her that you’re happy where you are. You sigh, tearing yourself away from your own thoughts when you read the number on the clock on your dashboard, signaling that your break is over and you need to go back into work. Death would be more inviting, considering the mood you’re in after that phone call.

Eventually, you drag yourself back into the small café, and your mood is almost instantly lifted. One of your co-workers, Harry, is standing behind the counter now. You’re guessing his shift started while you were away, but he throws his hands up in the air in celebration as soon as he sees you. “There she is!” The way he all but yells it makes you blush, and you push a strand of hair that had managed to escape the bun on top of your head behind your ear. You look down in an attempt to hide the smile that has spread across your face. Harry was the closest thing you had to a friend in this town, but he was more of just a work friend than anything else. He was usually who you worked your shifts with and you think that’s part of why you loved your job so much, despite it being a simple barista job. Harry had a way of lighting up a room and any situation he was thrown into. It was just who he was as a person, and that’s something you had learned quickly. Not to mention he was awfully sweet and ridiculously cute, so you didn’t imagine it took much for him to have entire rooms of people falling for his charm.

“Was afraid you’d left me f’good this time, love.” You hear his voice again when you’re back behind the counter and you’re pulling your apron over your head. You don’t have the chance to tie it yourself before you realize Harry’s doing it for you. “Would’ve broken m’heart, y’know,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. It makes your heart flutter, even if he is joking. Pretending to be your boyfriend was something Harry had started up when you first started working at the shop. He had slinked up beside you while you were ringing up an elderly woman at the beginning of your second week, put an arm around you and began quizzing the poor woman on whether or not she thought you were beautiful. “Most beautiful girl ‘ve ever seen, I swear it,” he had said, and you felt yourself go warm all over at the sentiment. “Don’ y’agree? Jus’ lovely, isn’t she?” He had pressed on, looking down at you, and you let out a breath of nervous laughter. His thick British accent and slow way about talking was enough to have you melting, so the things he said definitely didn’t help matters. “You two make an adorable couple,” the woman finally said, and Harry beamed as he passed her order over to her. “Thank you very much,” he’d told her proudly, patting at your hip as you watched the lady place a few bills in the tip jar. After that, it just became a normal thing between the two of you. You never asked him why he did it, you just let him have his fun and played along. It helps pass the time and there’s likely something a just little bit worse than people thinking you’re dating Harry.

“You know I’d never leave you,” you tell him, smoothing your apron as you turn to face him. He’s grinning down at you, his eyes bright and green and seemingly extra sparkly today. That’s where you place your blame as to why you held his gaze for maybe a beat too long before looking down to the ground. “Really did miss ya’,” he says, and you roll your eyes fondly as you step towards the sink to wash your hands. “You weren’t even here before I went to lunch, Styles,” you point out and he only shrugs. “Don’ have t’be here t’miss ya’.” He makes a point that even you can’t argue with, but that doesn’t stop you from shaking your head and ignoring the butterflies that his words give you. “You’re ridiculous.” This time he’s the one rolling his eyes. “And you love it,” he smirks, staring down at you again. “I do not,” you argue, and he taps your cheek gently. “Then why y’blushin’, pet?” The gesture only makes you blush more. You’d hate Harry Styles if he weren’t so damn wonderful.

–

You’re fucked.

You didn’t realize how incredibly fucked you actually were until you hung up the phone with your mother, but you are completely and undeniably fucked. You thought it would be a little white lie to soothe your mother’s constant interrogating and never ending bickering. She was always nagging you to get out of the house and to put yourself out there, and it made you want to scream. Today you had finally had enough of it, and when she asked you the inevitable question, you told her that you had a boyfriend, and had you had been together for a few months. She was so excited that you suppose you just couldn’t leave it at that. No, you had to go and tell her that said boyfriend was Harry. Fucking Harry as in the Harry that you work with, because you throw that in as if it’s some sort of bonus fact. You don’t know why you said his name. Maybe it was because he’s not only the only guy, but the only person in this town that you really talk to. Or perhaps it’s because he’s always joking about it, anyway. Whatever the reason, you were kicking yourself for doing it at all now. Especially when you remember that she’s asked you to video chat with her the next time you’re with him. And. Well. You don’t know how you’re going to pull that off, but you agreed to it nonetheless. Maybe you’ll fake a breakup and then your own death.

The café has been ridiculously busy for a Tuesday night, but you and Harry assume it’s due to finals, considering all the laptops and endless cups of coffee you two have been serving all night. The tips have been nice, but it also means that you and Harry have hardly spoken, which is even nicer considering you can hardly look him in the eye after your earlier conversation with your mom. What isn’t so nice is the fact that you’re certain the two of you will be here an hour later than usual to close tonight, and you know that he’s going to try and make up for how impersonal all of your conversations were tonight. You can’t look him in the eye, but you also can’t act different from how you normally are, because then he’s going to know something’s up with you.

The door has only been locked five minutes before that plan has fallen through already. “’S wrong?” He asks, and you shake your head and shrug far too quick for him to think you’re telling the truth.“‘M fine. Just tired, ‘s all.” Harry shakes his head and scrunches his nose like he doesn’t believe you. “No – don’ think tha’s it, love. ‘Ve seen y’tired after a long night. This ‘s somethin’ different.” He says it so matter-of-factly that you’re almost mad at him for it, but he’s right – you both know it. You sigh, and it makes you feel guilty, because you’re getting annoyed, and it’s not even his fault. He doesn’t know what you’ve done and he’s just trying to be a good friend. “Just – leave it alone, Harry,” you try, and he shakes his head again and shrugs his shoulders. “Can’t do that, m’afraid. ‘Specially now ‘cos I feel like ‘ve got somethin’ t’do with it,” he replies, and you feel like you’re about to start crying. Or lock yourself in the freezer. Either one works. Harry leans the broom he’s been sweeping with against the wall and comes to lean over the counter across from you.

“I just wiped that down,” you tell him, glancing down to where his arms are folded on top of the counter. “I know – wish I’d realized that before I tried t’be smooth and lean over t’talk t’you. Now ‘m all wet,” and his laugh makes you smile. “Would ya’ look a’that. Y’ve still got a sense ‘f humor,” he teases, and your eyes roll as you work along rest of the countertop. “Come sit down ‘nd talk t’me,” he says, and you glance back over to him. “Harry – we’ll be here all night ‘f we stop cleaning,” you answer and he grins widely. “Wouldn’t mind that. Not with you,” and he’s got you flushing all over like he always does at that.

“You’ve got to stop saying things like that,” you tell him, and it just makes him smirk as he lifts up to circle back behind the counter. “Why’s that?” He challenges, and you look over and up to where he’s standing beside you now. You give him the one-word answer of “because,” and he grabs your wrist to still your hand with the washcloth in it. “Come talk to me,” he’s looking down at you with such a soft expression, but the only reason you agree is to get his hand off of you before he feels that you’re literally warm all over from his shameless flirting.

It’s a booth that Harry leads you to. He slides in first, and then seems almost disappointed when you don’t slide into the same side as him, but he doesn’t mention it if he is. “Will y’please tell me wha’s botherin’ you now?” He questions, and you sigh, your hands resting against the table between you. “Do I have to?” You counter, and he nods, can’t help but grin at you as he does so. “You do, ‘cos ‘m not leavin’ this table ‘til you talk t’me,” he says, and you open your mouth to speak again, but he’s speaking again before you get the first syllable out, “’Nd you’re not, either.”

You’re silent for a long time, just staring at him as if he’ll give in and change his mind at any moment. Which he doesn’t, and it’s not surprising at all. You let out a breath as you seemingly relax back against the softness of the booth and Harry shifts in anticipation. “Fine – just promise me you’re not gonna’, like, freak out, okay? It was an honest mistake,” you explain, and his eyebrows furrow for a moment before he nods. “’M not gonna’ freak out,” he assures you, and your eyes flick over his face and you stretch a hand towards him with your pinky out. “Promise,” you urge, and he glances down to your hand before he’s lacing your fingers together and holding your hand rather than just pinky promising you. You let him, though, watching him as he brushes his thumb along your knuckles. “I promise.”

Apparently that’s all it takes for him to have you talking. You’re pretty sure you’d answer anything he asked you, so long as he’s holding your hand while you do it. “I told my mom we were dating.” You don’t ease him into it anymore than you already had, and you expect some sort of reaction, but you get nothing because Harry’s just staring at you with the tiniest smirk. It makes you anxious and you decide you should probably further explain yourself. “She just – she’s something else, y’know? Like, she’s always pried into my social life, but it’s like it got twenty times worse when I moved away from home. She asks me all the time if I’m seeing anyone, Harry – and it’s so fucking frustrating, because I have exactly one friend here – which is you, by the way – so of course I don’t have a boyfriend. I mean, like, shouldn’t that be obvious? But she always asks and I’ve always told her no, until today, and I don’t know why I did it, but I did,” by the time the words are out of your mouth, Harry’s full on smirking at you, and you squeeze his hand harshly, because if you tried to swat at him with your non-dominant hand it’d be a fail, and you don’t need the added embarrassment right now.

“Think you made tellin’ me ‘m your only friend here a bigger deal than what it was, love,” are the first words he says to you and you blink at him. He’s teasing you. You’re in the middle of a crisis and Harry’s teasing you. “Harry, I swear to God,” you start, and he’s laughing as he smiles at you from across the table. “’M jokin’, sweetheart,” he reminds, and you think you could kill him if for no other reason than that pet name alone. “I could do that,” he states a minute later, and he nods his heads a few times as if it’s some sort of confirmation as he mulls it over, and you look at him like you’re confused. “Do what?” You question, and he blinks at you. “Be your boyfriend,” he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and it makes your heart beat a bit faster. “You mean fake boyfriend,” you question, even though it comes out as more of a correction. He shifts so that he’s closer to the table, but he still hasn’t let your hand fall from his grasp. “Yeah, yeah – I could – I wouldn’t mind. I do it anyway, don’t I?” He sounds so sure of himself, of the situation, of you that it makes you want to crawl out of your own skin.

You almost agree to it, but you shake your head before the words escape and you fall into an even bigger web of lies than you’ve already gotten yourself into. “No – Harry, we can’t. It’s not like she’s here, anyway, so she’ll never have to know. I’ll just tell her we ended it in a week or two. It’ll be fine,” you assure and he rubs his thumb against your skin. He’s got really nice, big hands. They’re unexpectedly soft, warm, and he’s got a ring on nearly every finger. The realization sends a chill down your spine that you instantly try to shake off, and then you hear Harry’s voice again. “Isn’t that just gonna’ have her buggin’ y’even more? Askin’ ‘f you’re alright, ‘nd stuff ‘cos now y’goin’ through a breakup, too?” He asks, and you practically whine. “Jus’ – lemme’ help ya’, lovebug. We’ll take some selfies, look all coupley and cozy – y’can send ‘em t’her. Hell, we can even FaceTime her sometime, yeah? Let her see that I really do exist,” and it’s an offer that you really can’t refuse, considering that’s all she wanted from you, and you never even had to ask Harry if he’d do it. “Are you sure?” You murmur, and he nods almost immediately. “’F course ‘m sure. Just need ya’ t’promise me one thing now,” he starts, and you look at him nervously. “Gotta’ promise y’not gonna’ fall in love w’me,” he says, and you laugh loudly. “Couldn’t be more of a cliché if you tried, Styles.”

–

You’re on a date with Harry.

Well, you’re kind of on a date with Harry. It’s a faux date, all for show when your mom FaceTimes you in a bit, but still. Currently, you’re leaning against his kitchen counter as you watch him cook for the two of you, scrolling through various apps before getting bored and closing them all. “Have you been studying the index cards I gave you?” You ask, and he snickers as he chops various vegetables. “Mhm,” he hums, and you decide it wouldn’t hurt to quiz him on the things you think your mom will probably ask. “How’d we meet?” You ask right after that, and his smile widens, but he’s still not looking at you. “House party -- did a half naked body shot ‘ff ‘f you, and the rest is history.” He sounds completely serious and you’re already pouting at him, but you decide to press on. “Where was our first date, then?”

“Took y’to a drive-in movie and fucked you in the backseat of m’car, didn’t I?” He’s smirking as he speaks, and you whine this time, because these are not the notes you gave him.

“Harry.”

“What? S’what ya’ wrote in the notes, innit?” He’s got more of a teasing tone now, and there’s a smirk tugging at his lips.

“No. It’s not and you know it’s not,” You answer. Harry laughs. “It’s not funny, Harry.”

“’S a little funny,” he argues, and you roll your eyes, pushing back from the counter and it’s looks like you’re about to leave, which just isn’t going to do for him. “Hey -- no, love. ‘M jokin’, yeah?” He says, pushing a pan onto one of the cool burners on the stove while he steps away and towards you. “Promise ‘m not gonna’ fuck it up,” he murmurs, reaching for one of your hands and lacing your fingers together like he had the night you had told him about the whole situation. “Promise,” he repeats, squeezing your hand and you nod, a small smile tugging at your lips as you look him over. “You look like a prince.” You give him the compliment while you’ve still got his hand in his, and he grins widely. “You look like a princess,” he replies, and you can’t help but smile despite the fact that you know it’s not true. He’s in a ruffled white button down, and you’re in jeans and a shirt you pulled out of the back of your closet. You make sure you point that out. “I’m wearing jeans, Styles.” He only shrugs, smiling fondly. “Doesn’t mean anything. You’re still gorgeous. Still can be m’princess.” His words make your heart flutter, and you seriously consider just walking out of his apartment, because there’s no way you deserve this man as even your fake boyfriend.

He ruins all of that in the next moment, though, because he’s Harry, so of course he’s got to make you want to slap him right after he’s given you the sweetest compliment. “I might forgive ya’ f’not dressin’ up if ya’ just take it all off, though. Think we’d be even, then,” he teases, and you decide it’s about time you give him a taste of his own medicine. “You take it all off first, ‘nd we’ll see,” and it comes out much flirtier than you’d ever meant for it to, but you gently remind yourself that you also just told him to take off all his clothes, so was there really a different way that could have come out? He raises an eyebrow, and you nod towards him as if to say ‘go on.’ “You sure tha’s wha’ ya’ want, kitten?” You force yourself not to press your thighs together at that, because he’s asked you if you want him to strip and called you ‘kitten’ all within the same breath, and it makes you feel a little lightheaded. You tease him still, looking at him with a face of sheer confidence as you nod.

You expect him to start laughing, go back to cooking, literally anything else besides actually untuck his shirt and start unbuttoning it not a second after. “Wait, Harry -- no. I was joking,” you protest, and he just smirks and licks his lips absently. “Harry, stop,” you whine as his hands move lower and lower, but he catches the way you look at him when you spot the black ink contrasting with his tan skin in the center of his torso. You must stare for a long time, because he’s got his shirt unbuttoned completely, hanging off of his shoulders, and it’s revealed a fern leaf inked on either side of his hips. You think your mouth may actually be watering. You don’t think about it when your fingertips trace over the slightly raised lines in his skin, following the pattern carefully. You hear Harry’s breath hitch above you when your fingers accidentally brush against the waist of his black skinnies. You move your hand away from him altogether then, feeling hot all over, and you can barely force yourself to look back up at him. You can feel where his eyes are still on you, though, and you swallow hard when you do finally manage to make eye contact once again. “They’re pretty,” you tell him, noticing how dark his eyes look now, and how his gaze falls down to your mouth when you speak. His lips are on yours before you ever have the chance to ask why he’s so uncharacteristically quiet all of the sudden.

Harry is a fucking remarkable kisser. You’ve discovered this because you, surprisingly, don’t pull away as soon as you realize what’s happening. No, you let your lips meld with his and kiss him like it’s the last thing you’re ever going to do. There’s a moment after the first initial kiss when Harry pulls back and rests his forehead against yours, his breathing heavy, but the sight of your lips curling into a small smile makes him kiss you again. Except this time, he’s got his hands on your hips and he’s guiding back towards the couch in the connected living room. “The food,” you murmur against his mouth, your hands holding him at the back of his neck, and Harry just shakes his head. “Turned it off,” he informs, and you’re collapsing onto the couch with the weight of him on top of you with the confirmation that his apartment isn’t going to burn to the ground anytime soon.

There are no whispered confessions about this having been a long time coming, how he’s wanted to kiss you for ages, and there are none from you, either. It’s so intense that you feel like any words would be lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours, anyway. Especially when his insistent mouth pries open your own to slide his tongue against yours, and you can’t help but moan into the kiss. You make note of the way he kisses in the back of your mind -- he’s gentle, but he’s demanding, and it makes your melt under his touch. He seems to know just how much teeth and tongue to throw in to make it enjoyable for the both of you, and his fucking hands are everywhere, on your neck, under your shirt against your hip, big and warm and absolutely welcome on your skin. Your hand presses back against one of the ferns, and you tease along his waistline, scratching your fingers through his happy trail and smirking into the kiss when he grinds down against you in response. He’s the one with his fingers playing at the button of your jeans a second later, and he’s just about to thumb them open... But then your phone rings.

Your eyes are wide as soon as you hear your mom’s ringtone blaring, and you want to scream at just the thought of having to stop whatever it is you and Harry were just minutes from doing. “I’m sorry,” you apologize as he sits up and settles into a corner of the couch, pushing a hand through his hair as he looks over to you. “”S okay, love -- jus’ got caught up in the moment,” he assures, and you nod before you walk back towards the kitchen to get your phone from the counter. You’ve got one notification of a missed FaceTime call from your mom, and you inform Harry of your newest discovery. “’M gonna’ go change shirts, ‘f that’s ‘lright? Got this one all wrinkly.” You nod, but you’re also blushing, doing your best to make yourself look presentable after all of that. You had a million different thoughts racing through your mind, and there wasn’t one that didn’t have to do with Harry.

You’re back on the couch when he comes back, and you try not to laugh when you see his shirt. “Is that Britney Spears?” You question, and he glances down and nods as he comes to sit beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. “I prefer t’call her ‘Queen of Pop,’ but to each their own,” he says matter-of-factly, and you laugh loudly as your head falls back against his shoulder. “Ridiculous, I tell you,” you mumble, and he squeezes your shoulder. “Y’gonna’ call y’mum back or keep her waitin’ ‘cos you like makin’ fun ‘f me?” He raises a brow at you and you grin. “Could really keep going, honestly. She’ll be fine,” you shrug, and he takes your phone from your hand and swipes the notification so that it’s calling her back instantly. “Should we be makin’ out when she answers?” He questions, and you swat his arm as you try to lean into frame, because as it is, he’s holding the phone so that it’s only him in the camera. You tense against him when you hear your mom’s voice.

“One day you’ll learn to answer th--” She cuts herself off, and your best guess is that Harry’s image has just come through on her screen, “Oh! Hi, you must be Harry!” She sounds so excited that it makes your insides twist. “’S me. Harry,” he says, and he sounds so smiley and happy through the exchange. “It’s lovely to meet you! You’re so cute. Y/N said you were, but I didn’t think she meant quite this cute,” Harry smirks down at you, you blush, and he digs his fingertips into your skin. You remember now when you told your mom about how cute Harry is, without even being prompted -- ‘he’s got dark hair and the prettiest eyes, mom. And, god, his smile. It’s my favorite thing about him.’ Maybe you shouldn’t have gone quite that far with her. “Did she now? Always braggin’ on me, that one.” Harry’s teasing you through a conversation with your mother, and you think he’s reached a whole new level of annoying.

Eventually, Harry tilts the phone so that it’s on its side and you’re both visible. The three of you carry on like that for an hour or so. Your mom asks Harry a million questions, and he answers every one of them perfectly. It makes you swoon. He’s sort of the perfect fake boyfriend, but you decide it’s best if you keep that to yourself. When you hang up (Harry with a promise to chat again soon), you shift so you’re not leaning into his side anymore. He blinks at you and you watch him silently. “Your mum is nice,” he says, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “She likes you,” you state, and he grins. “I like her,” he replies, reaching out to poke your cheek, “and her daughter.” You shake your head fondly, letting out a breathy laugh. You wonder for a moment if he’s expecting things to pick up where they left off before your phone rang, and you almost want them to, but then he’s standing from the couch and offering an outstretched hand to you. “We never finished dinner,” he says as an explanation, and you follow his lead to the kitchen. Neither of you bring up what happened between the two of you and you go home to sleep in your own bed that night.

--

You hate Harry Styles.

You realized your hatred this morning, precisely an entire week after you nearly let him fuck you on his couch. An entire week has gone by, and there has been no mention whatsoever of him even kissing you, let alone the fact that he was about a millisecond away from popping the button on your jeans open when your mother called and ruined it all. It’s so frustrating; it’s all you’ve been able to think about, and he’s just gone back to normal as if nothing ever happened. Then again, it’s sort of your fault, too. You are just as capable of speaking up as Harry is, but you haven’t said anything about it, either. Maybe that’s what he’s waiting for; after all, he’s the one who made the first move and kissed you, anyway. Maybe it wasn’t fair that you were expecting him to do all the work. The only problem is that you are much more stubborn than you’d like to admit, so you make the mental decision to not bring it up, either.

You’re currently at the register taking orders while Harry makes said orders. It’s a nice system the two of you worked out a long time ago. It also gave you the chance to doodle and write little notes on the to-go cups for Harry. It was one of the quirkier things about your friendship (and just you in general), but the customers were always endeared and Harry had voiced a million times over how cute he thought it was. It was usually little doodles of the sun with 'hi!' written out beside it, a few hearts here and there, sometimes quick portraits of the night sky, but more often than anything else it was a line or two from one of your favorite songs at the moment. You were clueless to the fact that Harry always looked up the lyrics and added the songs to a playlist under your name. He didn't know why he did it, but to be fair he didn't really know why you spent a few moments a day doodling on cups for him, either. He also didn’t know if the lyrics had any sort of significance to your relationship with him. He had decided it was all just part of your system awhile back to save himself the headache of wondering. You only think for a moment before you decide to go for it, penning the lyrics from a Rolling Stones song, one of your shared favorites: ‘we spent a lonely night at the memory motel.’ You followed it with a dainty heart beside it, and you wonder whether or not he’ll catch onto the message you’re trying to send this time around. If he does, he doesn’t show it.

When you turn back to the register there is a very cute boy standing in front of you and he’s smiling, looking far too happy to just be ordering a cup of coffee. You ask for his order and then his name, nonetheless, but he catches you off guard when he asks you to write your number down, too. Your laugh comes out a bit breathless, but Harry’s by your side before you get past the ‘seven’ at the beginning of your number. “’Fraid she can’t do that, man. ‘S policy,” Harry says, and the guy stands up a bit straighter as if he’s trying to appear taller than Harry (which he’s definitely not). You’re staring up at Harry, confused, and when he looks down at you, you raise an eyebrow expectantly. “Sorry, Y/N -- guess I forgot t’mention it when I was trainin’ you. People normally feel too weird and stalkerish to do it, so I figured it’d never be an issue,” he tells you, glancing to the boy on the other side of the counter after the dig at him, and you can feel the rush of heat to your cheeks. You’re not stupid -- there is no book of policies lying around, just a set of general, basic rules given to you by the owner of the café. He pats your shoulder as he takes the cup from your hand, looking down to read what the guy has ordered. “Fuckin’ disgustin’ drink, mate,” he tells him. Apparently cursing at the customers is permitted. Harry definitely makes the drink taste awful on purpose.

The tension between you and Harry is different from what it was the other night. There’s tension now because you’re pissed at him, and not because you want him to fuck you into any surface he possibly can. He clearly didn’t want you, not really, so how could he ruin any chance you might have with someone else? It wasn’t fair. You’ve been angry all day, really, and you know he knows. Especially when you only speak to him when he asks a question about an order. You’ve just locked the doors for the night and finished cleaning in silence when you corner him in the stockroom, because you just can’t take it anymore. “What the fuck was that?” He looks so surprised when you speak that it makes you even angrier. “What?” He asks it so innocently, like he’s clueless as to what he’s done, but you both know exactly what you’re talking about. It makes your blood boil. “’S policy,” you repeat his own words back to him in a mocking tone, and he fucking smirks like he always does. “It is policy,” he answers, and you huff. “You’re a fucking liar -- we have, like, ten rules, maybe. That’s not one of them,” you tell him, and he looks you over quickly and clicks his tongue. “You’re hot when you’re pissed off.” You could slap him. And you do -- you slap his chest, and he chuckles low in his throat.

“I just don’t understand, Harry -- why’d you do it?” You press further, and he shrugs. “You’re mine. Not a fan ‘f sharin’,” he replies nonchalantly and you stare at him. The back room feels like it’s closing in on you and it’s making you feel a little dizzy. How can he pretend he’s never even kissed you and call you his all at the same time? “You’re supposed to be my fake boyfriend, ‘nd only on occasion,” you argue, and he licks his lips as he looks you over again. It makes you feel incredibly small, despite how in-charge of the situation you’re trying to be. His next statement hits you like a ton of bricks: “Yeah, well, I can’t stop thinkin’ about fuckin’ ya’ ‘til ya’ can’t walk, but I ‘spose that’s fake, too, innit?” You’re on him before he’s hardly even got the words out of his mouth.

You’re on don’t know what comes over you, but you’re the one pressing yourself up against him and he’s being shoved up against the wall, your hands on his chest as you kiss him. This kiss is harder than any other one you’ve shared -- a whole lot of teeth, tongue, and your lips are pressing against his so harshly that you practically feel them bruising. You can feel his hands everywhere on you, can hear him when he lets out a throaty sort of laugh after you bite his bottom lip and tug. “Thought ya’ were mad at me,” he teases, and you’ve got your hands up under his t-shirt, so you dig your nails into the skin. “I am,” you answer, and he smirks, his fingers curling over your hips, digging into the skin as he pushes you back until you’re the one up against the wall opposite from where you’re standing. You’re pretty sure something falls from a shelf, but neither of you could be fucked to care right now. “Doesn’t seem like it,” he murmurs, and you hate how cocky he is, but what you hate even more is how fucking hot it is. “Shut up,” you groan, and you press your hips up against his, and he lets his hands slip around to cup your ass, pushing you up against his growing bulge as he squeezes.

“Quite mouthy when ya’ mad, kitten,” he whispers, and you whine at the pet name, grinding up against him, your arms snaked around his neck and your lips working over his jaw until he reconnects them to his own. It’s the kind of kiss that’s so distracting that you don’t even realize he’s successfully popped the button on your jeans, and is slipping a hand inside to cup your cunt over your panties, and he groans into the kiss when he feels where you’ve soaked through. He doesn’t let you get away with it without saying something. “Soak y’knickers when y’mad at me, too, apparently,” he whispers, and your hips buck against his hand when his fingers press against your clit through the lace. “Please,” you breathe, all but clawing at the back of his shoulders every time his hand moves the least bit. He quite likes how desperate he’s gotten you, he realizes, and he presses his fingers up against your clit a bit harder just to get a rise out of you. “Harry -- swear to fucking God I’m never going to fucking speak t’you again iff you don’t do something,” you threaten, and he just holds his smirk. “Yeah? Y’want it that bad, sweetheart?” He’s still teasing you, his fingers dragging over your folds slowly as he speaks, his lips right at your ear, and his touches combined with his voice send a shiver down your back.

“Think I can make y’cum on jus’ m’fingers?” He questions, and you nod quickly, your lips brushing against his neck as he looks down between the two of you. You’d never pictured that the first time you and Harry successfully hook up, it’d be in the stockroom of the coffee shop, but you also never thought you’d get this far with him. He apparently has intentions of actually following through this time, though, because he’s slipping his hand past the waistband of your panties in the next second. “Gotta’ be good ‘nd use my fingers on ya’ pretty clit t’get off,” he instructs, pressing his thigh between your legs and you groan at the feeling almost instantly. You do use his fingers, grinding against the tips of them, along with his thigh, and you’ve got your face buried in his neck as you do so.

Harry’s rubbing against your clit furiously, dipping his fingers between your folds every few moments to collect some of your wet and make the glide against your clit easier. He’s also really fucking hard against your thigh, you realize, and it makes you nip at the side of his neck and grind harder against him. “Wanna’ cum, Harry,” you practically moan, but it’s quiet, right in his ear, and it makes him slide his hand further until his wrist is covered with you and he has two fingers pressing inside your entrance. It’s difficult, considering you’re still fully clothed and the angle isn’t the best, but it’s so fucking nice to feel his fingers fucking into your cunt the way that they are. He’s so good about curling them just enough, petting along your walls, and pressing the tips of them right against the spongy place inside of you that has you crying out. He’s pressing his thumb back to your clit as if it’s some sort of reward to your scream, and he rubs in quick circles. “‘M gonna’ fucking cum,” you tell him, and he presses a kiss to your jaw, fucks his fingers into you a bit harder, a bit deeper, and you can feel the ridges where his fingers meet his rings inside your cunt -- it makes you clench around them. “Cum, love -- soak my whole hand, yeah? Give it t’me,” he encourages, and he moans when you tighten around his digits as you cum not a minute later. He’s watching you as you do -- your lips parted in the prettiest ‘o’ shape he’s ever seen, and you are clawing at the back of his shoulders now, crying out his name repeatedly. He thinks it’s probably the most beautiful symphony he’s ever heard.

When you come down, he finally pulls his fingers from inside of you, licks them clean -- which is obscene, and you know it’s something that’s going to play a hundred times over in the back of your head -- and buttons your jeans for you.

“Y’still mad?” He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours and you pretend to consider the question for a moment before shaking your head.

“Nope.”

“Y’wanna’ help me out?” He presses his hard cock to your thigh.

“Nope.”

You pat him over his jeans, squeezing at his cock, and you smirk at the breathless sound he makes in response as you slip from between him and the wall and turn around so you’re walking backwards towards the exit. “Oh -- Harry! My mom wants us to come for the weekend in a couple of weeks. Fourth of July,” you tell him, smiling from ear to ear. “You in?” You question, licking over your lips as you grab for your purse from under the counter, looking back up to see where he’s still hard and leaning against the wall. “Wouldn’t miss it,” he grits out after a moment, and you smile small and to yourself as you wait for him to gather himself so you two can leave for the night.

--

You hate flying.

You always have. It’s always been something you’ve complained about. You had just never realized how much you truly loathe it until today. It’s not just the being up in the air, either, it’s the whole experience -- from the moment you load the car to go to the airport, to the parking, to checking in, to security, to getting to your gate and waiting to board. It’s every little thing, and having Harry along for the ride really isn’t helping like you thought it might, because he’s probably more anxious than you are. He can’t stop bouncing his knee, for one, and it’s something you noticed the second you sat down at the gate. “Haven’t flown since I came here for m’freshman year,” he tells you when he notices that you’re staring at him, and you realize why he’s telling you that just after. He’s nervous. “Didn’t think you were afraid of anything,” you respond, because you didn’t. Especially not something as common as flying. He was always so smug and cocky, so you assumed that part of his personality always overlapped into everything he ever did. He looks at you after that, though, and his eyes have softened from the panic that you saw in them just moments ago. “’S gonna’ be okay. Gonna have a good flight there, and lots of fun with your new best friend after we land,” you assure, and he smiles when you reference your mom as his new best friend.

The actual flight there isn’t nearly as bad as you and Harry had been silently anticipating. In fact, it’s not bad at all. It’s short and nonstop, so you’re thankful for that. You’re also thankful for the way Harry holds your hand and lets you lean against him for most of the flight, curled up into his side. You told him it was only fair for him to cuddle you, considering he got the window seat, and he had agreed easily, but you don’t think he would’ve needed much convincing regardless. As for the hand holding: that had started when you placed your hand on his thigh, and he had been quick to notice and trace around where your fingers were spread against the fabric of his jeans with his own. When you flipped your hand and he traced along the lines in your palm, he had simply laced your fingers together and neither of you said a word about it.

Unsurprisingly, neither of you have said a word about what happened right before you asked him to come on this trip with you a couple of weeks ago, either. It was exhausting pretending that every time you had to go into the back at work for a refill of to-go cups or sweeteners, all you could think about is the way Harry had pressed you up against the wall and fucked you with his fingers until you were cumming around them. It makes you press your thighs together each time you think about it, and you honestly can’t figure out how the two of you just keep going right back to normal every time something abnormal happens in your relationship. It’s probably even more frustrating for him, because you just left him high and dry in the back. It probably put a dent in his ego, now that you think about it, but he also sort of deserved it. He was being a dick, so really you were the only one who deserved to cum that night.

“You nervous?” You hear Harry’s voice suddenly; it pulls you from your thoughts and you peer up at him, your thumb dragging against his skin. “No, think we’re gonna’ have fun,” you answer, and you stare at him as he nods, “What about you?” He huffs, his eyebrows knitted together like he’s debating his answer. “I mean -- yeah, kinda’. ‘M meetin’ y’family,” he explains, and you grin in response. “What? Scared they’re gonna’ figure out ‘s all fake?” You see his expression drop as soon as you ask the question, and he shifts until you’ve got no choice but to sit up straight, and he lets your hand go. You’d give anything to rewind ten seconds and not say that. It was so dumb and mindless, and you can’t believe you actually said it outloud, given all that’s happened -- how honest Harry has been, even if you run from him every single time. “Harry -- I,” you start, and he shakes his head as he turns to look out the window. “’S fine. ‘S fake, right? Nothin’ to worry about,” he says after he cuts you off, and he doesn’t sound bitter or angry, just sad. It makes your heart hurt because it’s your fault. It’s all you can think of the rest of the flight, no matter how hard you try not to.

--

It’s been around two hours since you got home from the airport, but you’re alone with Harry for the first time since this morning in his car. Between the flight and visiting with your family when you first got here, you haven’t had time to talk about what happened on the plane. Then again, you two sort of have a trend of not talking about things, so you shouldn’t be surprised, honestly. You’re standing in the middle of your childhood bedroom and he’s sat in your desk chair, scrolling through his phone when you decide to bring it up. Except you more so just jump right into apologizing.

“I’m sorry,” he glances up at you and shakes his head at your sudden words, his tongue poking out to wet the pout on his lips. “Don’t be,” he replies, and you sigh, taking a seat on the edge of your bed as you watch him. “I am, though -- I didn’t mean to upset you,” you feel defeated no matter how hard you really are trying, because Harry’s just not having it. “Didn’t mean to, but ya’ did. ‘M a big boy, though. ‘Ll be okay. Don’t need m’fake girlfriend t’baby me,” this time his voice does sound bitter, and the slightest bit angry, and you want to lock yourself in a room and never come out again at the emphasis on ‘fake.’ “Harry, stop,” and he’s locking his phone and setting it on the desk in front of him. “I told you -- I’m fine, Y/N. Leave it alone. We’re good.” You don’t think he’s called you by your actual name since the first week he met you.

He does seem to be okay, though, because he’s holding actual conversations with you when you head back downstairs to be with your family. You don’t ask anymore questions. You just go along with it and hope that it’s not going to change as soon as you’re behind closed doors again. Whatever issues the two of you have seem to be the last thing on Harry’s mind, and you’re almost certain it has to have something to do with the fact that your entire family seems to be falling in love with him and all his wit and charm. Your mom and grandma can’t stop gushing over him, asking him questions about his life and his family. He tells them that he’s an art major with a minor in women’s studies (they both flash a smile at you at that), that he grew up in England, and moved to the states when he was nineteen for university. He tells them that he has a sister and she’s his favorite person besides you, his mum, and Stevie Nicks. They ask about his future, where he sees himself by the time he’s thirty, and he pauses for a long moment to just watch you where you’re sat on the ground playing with one of your nieces. “Think -- I dunno’. Think ‘s gonna’ be good, though. Really good,” he says, and he doesn’t look back to your grandma until he’s finished the sentence and is smiling like an idiot.

Your two nieces and nephew have Harry in the floor next, and he’s laying on his back, grabbing their hands and pushing them up in the air with his socked feet when they lean forward, and shouting that they’re airplanes, and he’s laughing loudly as he does it probably twenty times to each of them. “He’s a keeper, y’know,” and your eyes snap from Harry to your grandma, and a small grin you just can’t help tugging at your lips. “Can see how in love with you he is just by the way he looks at you,” she explains, and you feel a blush creep up your neck, a nervous laugh sounding from you. You don’t realize Harry was definitely listening until you see him peeking up at you with a fond smile.

--

The sun is just a couple of hours from setting when you find yourself helping your mom out in the kitchen while Harry helps your dad with the grill out on the patio. You can see him through the French doors as you work through each task your mom assigns you, and it makes you smile to see them talking and laughing together. Your mom catches you, and she smirks. “Think your grandmother might’ve been onto somethin’ earlier. You seem just as lovestruck as Harry does,” she tells you, and you blush furiously, shaking your head. “Oh c’mon, Y/N. Never seen you look at anyone in y’life the way you look at that boy,” she adds, and you roll your eyes. “Whatever you say,” you sing-song back at her, but it doesn’t stop the way you’re grinning from ear to ear as you coat the berries she told you were going to be used to decorate a cake in sugar. It’s the only thing you’ve got left on your to-do list, so she’s left you to finish up in the kitchen alone.

You don’t hear the door open, but you guess that was sort of the point when you feel someone slink up behind you and wrap their arms around your waist, you half scream and half squeal, because it scares you but you almost instantly realize whose arms around you. “What’re ya’ makin’?” Harry murmurs, his chin hooked over your shoulder, and you hum, glancing back at him over your shoulder. “’S already been made, just gotta’ decorate it. Like a star, I think,” you explain, giving the blueberries one last stir before you turn around in his arms to face him. “You scared me,” you murmur, looking his face over. He smells like smoke, charcoal, and burgers, and it’s disgusting, but you can think of a million things you’d let happen before you ever let go of him right now. “That was the point, pet,” he smirks, and you let your mind wander for a moment. What if he’s only got you pinned up against the counter right now for show? What if he’s still just as angry as he was earlier and has every intention of giving you the cold shoulder when everyone goes to bed tonight. You’re working yourself into a bit of a frenzy of over thinking, so you decide it’s best if you distract yourself. “Wanna’ help me?” Harry presses a kiss to your forehead and you take that as a ‘yes.’

“Your father is terrifying,” he tells you once he’s stood beside you, and you smirk, looking up to him. “Told me exactly how he’d kill me ‘f I ever break your heart,” he explains, and you laugh, nudging your hip against his. “Told you he’d chop you up and dump you in the ocean, didn’t he? He watches a lot of Dexter,” you’re both laughing, and this suddenly really does not feel fake anymore, and it makes you wonder if it really ever had. “Tell me what y’need me to do,” he says after you’ve both stopped laughing, looking you over, and in your mind you’re screaming ‘kiss me again,’ but in reality you tell him you’ve got to line the blueberries up perfectly to create a star on top, and then fill in the gaps with the strawberries. He nods and then gets to work.

The two of you joke and work between comfortable silences with no problem -- it’s just like being back at work in the café. Between the two of you, you finish in record time and you reach for one of the leftover strawberry slices as you turn to him. “Got m’fingers all sticky,” he murmurs, watching as you swallow down the strawberry and you grin mischievously as you take a step towards him, reaching for his wrist and guiding his fingers up until you feel a couple brush against your lower lip, looking up to him from under your eyelashes. You think you could cut the tension that has suddenly filled the room with a knife. “There’s a sink right there,” is what you say, your tongue flicking against his middle finger playfully, and Harry can breathe for the first time since you looked at him after he spoke after you let him go. “Fuckin’ tease,” he jokes, walking towards the sink to wash his hands and you lean back against the counter.

When he turns around, Harry looks like he can’t breathe again, because you’re sucking your own fingers clean of the juice from the berries and sugar. He should not be as affected as he is, but he undeniably is, and he’s got a hand on your hip before you know it, his thumb slipping up underneath your t-shirt and rubbing at the skin just above the waist of your jeans. “Need something else from you,” you tell him, and he raises his eyebrows, waiting for your next set of instructions as he stares down at you. “Wha’s that?” He questions, and you place your hands on his chest. “Need y’to kiss me,” you whisper, and he brings a hand up to pinch your chin between his fingers, tilting your head up towards him. “Not ‘f we’re jus’ gonna’ pretend it never happened again,” he nearly mumbles, and you do your best to shake your head. “Wouldn’t -- don’t wan’ t’do that anymore.” He glances down to your lips and back up to your eyes. “’S not fake then?” He presses, and you shake your head again, dragging your hands from his chest to his shoulders. “Don’t think it ever was, honestly.”

He’s kissing you after that, soft and gentle, and it doesn’t feel nearly as rushed as your previous kisses have been. It’s clean enough that if someone were to glance into the kitchen, they wouldn’t have anything to say about it, but it’s also very much Harry who is kissing you like this, and that fact alone is enough to cloud your senses. You’re smiling into the kiss out of nowhere and he pulls back just enough to speak. “Wha’ is it?” He questions, and you peck his lips. “We’re so dumb,” you laugh, and he scrunches his nose. “Nah -- told you I wanted t’be your boyfriend at the very start. Never said anything about being ‘fake.’ You’re the only dumb one in this situation, baby,” and you can’t even argue with him, because he is technically right. He never told you he’d be your fake boyfriend. Those words never came out of his mouth. It makes you wonder if he knew that this was how it was going to end all along.

“You called me ‘baby,’“ you whisper, and he slides his hand to cup your cheek as he nudges his nose against yours. “Did, didn’t I?” He’s never called you that, is the thing. He’s called you every pet name in the book over the past six or so months, every single goddamn one that you could possibly think of, but he’s never called you ‘baby’ before now. “Wanted t’wait ‘til I made y’mine before I used that one on ya’,” he says and the statement gives you butterflies, because he’s intended for this to happen the entire time he’s known you. He’s never been joking, not once, about how he feels about you.

If anyone notices that the two of you are even more chipper the rest of the night, they don’t mention it.

--

The Fourth of July is your new favorite holiday.

It’s always been up there, but after a night of lots of food, fireworks, a zillion pictures (half of which are of you and Harry kissing underneath them), and time well spent with your family, you think it’s moved its way up to being your number one. You decide this while you’re flicking through the pictures on your phone while Harry helps your father with a bit of clean up downstairs. There are a million, probably, of you and Harry, you and Harry with various family members, quite a few you’d snapped of just Harry, and you can’t get over how Harry shines so bright beside you in the ones with the fireworks that you almost don’t even realize the fireworks are there.

You practically have to force yourself to stop looking at pictures and set your phone down, so that you can shower before Harry comes up for the night, but you manage to do so. You also have to force yourself to shower quickly when you realize you’ve stripped outside of your en suite and forgotten to grab a t-shirt from your duffle. Which you do, deciding dry shampoo can get you through until tomorrow morning and only washing what is absolutely necessary for any shower. You never heard him come in, so after you’ve dried off and slid into the underwear that you did remember to bring, you assume it’s safe for you to step out topless just long enough to get to the other side of the room to you overnight bag.

That assumption turns out to be very wrong. You are not safe. Not at all. In fact, when you step out, Harry’s standing about three feet away from the bathroom door, facing you, and his eyes go wide. You must look as if you’re properly trying to seduce him, and you weren’t at all -- not in your parents’ house -- but your hair looks as if it’s just recently been styled (and it has, thanks to the aforementioned dry shampoo) and the only piece of clothing (and you use that word lightly) you’ve got on is a baby pink lace thong. You can’t get mad at him when you see him definitely give you a once over, but you also bring your hands up to cover your breasts, cupping each of them. “Ya’ tryin’ t’seduce me, baby?” He finally says after the initial shock of it all, and he’s smirking, because he’s Harry, and of course he’s fucking smirking. “Didn’t have t’walk out naked t’get me t’fuck ya’, y’know. Told you weeks ago ‘s all I’ve been thinkin’ about,” he continues, and you feel like dying right then and there (but also very much like dropping to your knees and sucking his cock until he’s cumming down your throat) (he’s so hot) (it’s not fair).

You consider telling him that yes, you were just trying to seduce him, but the truth is what comes out of your mouth inside. “Forgot my shirt out here when I went to shower. Didn’t hear you come in, so I thought it’d be alright,” you explain and he nods like he understands perfectly, like maybe he’s been in the exact same situation before. He’s holding up a singular finger as if to tell you ‘hold on’ not a second later, and you watch him, your hands still covering your tits, and you realize he’s grabbing for a t-shirt from his own bag. He tosses it to you, and you cover yourself with it as soon as you’ve got it in your hands, because you remember that’s just given him another glimpse at your perky breasts. It’s when you go to tug it over your head that he stops you. “No, no, no -- what d’ya’ think you’re doing, hm?” You’re confused, but he’s pulling his own shirt over his head after that, dropping it to the floor. “Gotta’ earn it, baby girl,” he says, and you press your thighs together.

“Owe you for leaving you hard the other night, don’t I?” You murmur, because you can play this game, too. You take a step towards him, letting the shirt fall to the ground with the one he had been wearing, and palming over his hardening cock through his jeans. You watch your hand on him for awhile, feeling him growing harder under your touch, and your best guess is that he was watching, too, because as soon as you look up to him, he’s got you moaning into a kiss. The two of you end up on the bed behind him similarly to the way you had ended up on his couch the first night, after that, except this time, he’s underneath you and you’re situated so that you’re straddling his hips and grinding right on top of his cock. He’s got a hand fisted in your hair and the other is sliding down to your ass, grinning into the kiss at the feel of bare skin against his own.

You manage to get a hand between the two of you and pop the button on his jeans, and really, you’re not sure why these godforsaken things weren’t his clothing item of choice to remove before you fell into bed together, because they’re so tight, and all you want is his cock out now. You manage to finally get the jeans, along with his burgundy boxer briefs, down his toned legs, though, and then you’re straddling him again. His cock is gorgeous, and you feel silly for even thinking it, but it is -- it’s long and thick and it’s got the prettiest head that matches his lips in colors. You really do want to suck it, so you tell him as much as you wrap a hand around the base of him and work over him in strokes that are good, but not near enough to ever give him what he needs. “Jesus fuck,” he curses in response to your request, and you take that as your go ahead. You’re lying on the bed between his legs when you lean down and give the leaking tip the first tentative kitten lick, glancing up to make eye contact with him as you do. You collect the precum on your tongue in doing so, and swallow it down before you lick along the length of him, just getting him wet, before you bring your lips back up to wrap around the head and suck properly at it, dipping your tongue into the slit.

He’s got his hand fisted in your hair once again, but this time it’s to help guide you along his cock, and he finds that you take direction very well, as it turns out. You’re working your mouth over his cock slowly, sinking down until he’s hitting the back of your throat, and you swallow around him. Harry moans and tugs your hair harshly, watching as you drag your tongue along the thick vein on the underside of his cock when you pull off. “Got such a lovely mouth, baby. So good f’me,” he breathes, and you just flash him an innocent sort of smile before you’ve got your mouth back on him, and you press your tongue against the sensitive spot at his base when you swallow him back down. You feel the way his cock hit the back of your throat a bit when he begins rocking his hips up into the feeling, and you can’t help but moan around him, and that only causes a groan to escape him in response. “Take m’cock so well, baby girl,” he murmurs, and you let your eyes find his once again.

He leans up just a moment later, and you’ve got your lips wrapped tight around his shaft when you feel him sliding your panties to the side and sliding his fingers between your folds. “Fuckin’ soaked, love. Jus’ from suckin’ my cock?” He questions, and you suck a bit harder and hopes he gets the message that it is most definitely just from sucking his cock. “Tha’s a good girl,” he breathe, and then he presses a finger against your entrance, and you rock back against the touch. “Eager,” he murmurs, glancing down to your head in his lap, and placing a hand on the back of your neck as he lets two fingers slide inside of your cunt, fucking them into you slowly, and you clench around the feeling of them. “So fuckin’ tight, love. Can’t wait to feel ya’ on m’cock. Y’gonna’ give that t’me, hm? Le’ me make you cum on m’cock? Fill up your pretty little cunt?” You can’t believe the filth that seems to spew from his lips so easily, but you’re certain that you’ve never been wetter than you are right now, either.

You’re pulling off of his cock after a minute or two later, and his fingers are so nice inside of you, but god -- you want to be stretched and filled and fucked until you can’t fucking move, so you decide you’re going to need his cock for that. “Need you,” you breathe, and your voice is wrecked from taking him as far as you had, but he seems to understand you just fine, because he withdraws his fingers from you not a moment later. He’s tugging you up until you’re straddling him again, and you press your lips to his as you lean down, grinding down against his cock, and thanking any higher power listening that you’ve decided to don the prettiest, tiniest lace thong he’s ever seen tonight, because when he wraps a hand around his cock, he gets to watch as you simply pull the fabric to the side just before you line him up. Your wet is practically dripping down his cock as you hover over him, the head of him pressed to your entrance. You lean down to kiss him again as you sink down, and both your moans get lost somewhere on your tongues.

The stretch of him isn’t something you think you could have prepared yourself for no matter how long you had taken to hype yourself up. It burns at first, but the longer he’s inside of you, the nicer it feels. He’s is by far the biggest you’ve ever had, you’ve got no doubt about it, and you suppose it would only make sense for this gorgeous boy underneath you to have an equally glorious dick buried to the hilt inside of you. “Feel so good,” you breathe, rocking your hips just a bit, just feeling the length of him inside of you, filling you up better than anyone ever has. When you pull off until it’s just the head of him, you swear you can feel the way every ridged part of his cock drags against your walls and you moan loudly against Harry’s mouth. “Gotta’ stay quiet, love,” he tells you, and you just kiss him in response, grinding on his cock with your eyes screwed shut. “Be good f’me, ‘nd I promise as soon as we get home, ‘ll take y’on every surface ‘f my apartment ‘nd y’can be as loud as y’want,” he murmurs, and you do your best to nod, but you want to cry because he just feels so good inside of you.

You begin to really ride him after that promise, pulling off of him until it’s just the tip of his cock inside of you, and you drop back down in quick motions. You’re building a harsh rhythm, and you can feel where the short wiry hairs around his cock are brushing against your clit each time he presses his hips up into you, and it has you kissing him just that much harder to try and keep quiet. “Look a’ you, angel. Look so pretty fuckin’ y’self on m’cock,” he’s whispering as he speaks, watching you as you fuck down against him, and it makes you cup one of your tits again, your other hand steadying yourself on his chest, and he fucks up into you for the first time when he see the way you’re squeezing your breast, his fingers hooked into the waistband of your lace panties. The only bad thing about lace panties, however, is how incredibly easy they are to rip, and Harry does just that. You’re not sure if it’s on purpose or not, but you also couldn’t give less of a fuck, either. You’ve got more, and you assume he agrees with your thought process, because he’s the one who collects them and tosses them to the floor. You look sort of perfect, he thinks -- doesn’t think he’s ever had a better view than the one he’s got right now. You’re tight, wet, and hot around his bare cock, and his own reminder of that has him twitching inside of you, and it makes your clit throb. “Harry, Harry -- fuck me,” you whine, and he’s never been the kind of guy that has to be told twice.

You’re both so close, and it doesn’t surprise you. You hadn’t expected either of you to last this long, considering how inevitable this has been since the beginning, but as soon as Harry flips you over so you’re on you’re back, you know you’re fucked -- figuratively and literally. He’s driving into you with force, and you open your mouth to scream, but nothing comes out (thankfully). He uses the opportunity to his advantage, however. He’s got two fingers pressed to your tongue, and you waste no time and sucking them just as you had his cock just minutes before. The sight seems to do more for him than he’d expected because he groans as soon as you wrap your lips around the digits, and he fucks into you harder. He feels you clench around him, and he bites his lip at the feeling. “Gonna’ cum, baby?” He murmurs, and you try and fail to nod, but it’s enough for him to get it, and he’s so smug about it, despite the fact that he’s just holding out to feel you cum around his cock before he lets go. “Cum f’me, baby girl. Cum on m’cock,” he breathes, and he removes his fingers from your mouth to press against your clit instead, rubbing quickly. You don’t last another minute before you’ve drenched your thighs with your release.

You dig your nails into his back as your cunt pulses around his cock, biting at his shoulder to keep from crying out the way you want to, and you think it’s the way your teeth dig into his skin that does him in, because you feel hot spurts of his release covering your walls and filling you up so suddenly that it makes you shake against him just a second or two longer.

Harry doesn’t pull out for what seems like forever, but when he does, you can feel how sore you already are, but it’s the best kind of sore in the world. You whine and clench around nothing, and you still feel so fucking wet, despite just having the best orgasm of your life probably. You realize why that is when you see Harry looking between your legs, and you’re quick to close them, feeling overexposed, but he taps your hip, his head resting on your thigh as he peers up at you. “No, baby, lemme’ see, please,” He asks, and it comes out in such a gentle voice that you think you’d do anything he told you to do right then. You do spread your legs back open, and he watches as his release drips out of your cunt, and he seems fucking fascinated, and it makes you blush down to your chest. He stays put where he’s resting against your thigh for minutes probably, just watching. “’S gorgeous,” he murmurs, just before he leans in to press an open mouthed kiss your clit -- you gasp, he smirks. He’s kissing his way back up your body a minute later, and your entire body feels like it’s been put into overdrive and all of your senses are heightened right now. It’s as if you’re torn with wanting him all over you and wanting to push him off of you. You decide to go with the first one.

“Wanna’ know somethin’?” He questions once he’s reached your lips, grinning down at you. You hum in response, running your fingers through his hair. “I do,” you answer, grinning right back up at him. “Think ya’ earned privileges t’any shirt ‘f mine y’ever wanna wear.” You laugh into it when he kisses you again.

--

The next week at work, you tell Harry you love him by writing it on one of the to-go cups. He nearly gets you both fired when he kisses you breathless at the cash register (by the way, he loves you, too).

[dilfhakyeon-moved]

yO i was abt to write to you abt the new modc ep (what's going on with the weird cuts at the beginning jcbjfbjb im crying) but i saw your post so!!!! tell me abt your dream bro i wanna hear abt it!!!!!! -✨

OH I HAVENT SEEN IT YET RIGHT I FORGOT IT CAME OUT TODAY!!! Let me watch it then we can talk abt it !!

And well my dream is pp long so bear w me 😔 i don't have the 'read more' function on mobile so i apologise in advance for everyone who comes across this !! I'll edit the 'read more' into it when I can 😊 ( i hav edited it hehehehe )

SO . actually there are several parts to this dream and I woke up between the first two parts but ... YEA.

At first I was home but a cat had gotten inside my house, I already had two cats ( my current cat and the one that will have died one year ago exactly tomorrow... yes five days after my birthday december is a cursed month for me. but if u wanna know abt him just search 'tchoupi' on my blog ) and I don't think my girl was okay w that new cat ? also new cat looked wonky sjhsjsh ? I wasn't sure abt its behaviour bc it seemed like it cld get irritated fast. In the end my mother told me to throw it out so I did against my will but when I saw it walk away... it had a missing leg.... I was like oh shit dude no come back... so I went and opened the front door and it came back running !!! I couldn't leave it like that w/o food if it already was incapacitated in a way. so that was my new cat. everything ends well ( I'm pp sure I forgot a part of that part but it's not the one I'm interested in )

SECOND PART... THE CÅSTLË. i was in a castle that was more medieval than renaissance styled or whatever the fuck i didnt study architecture but yes this. it had a courtyard with a fountain and that courtyard had a beautiful view on The Unknown ( aka fields and forests and stuff yknow just. The view ) but there were also bridges ( not the rock kind the "we use it in movies to make a character dramatically fall after the villain cut the rope" kind ) and little paths to go to The Unknown. there was a built-in church ( not a christian but i guess that was a smart choice given most attendees were fire emblem characters and they were definitely christians ) and also stables i guess ? but the front stables were empty and i didn't get to see the actual stables. the front stables had a pathway going around them ( there was a front stable on the left and on the right, with the courtyard being a little pushed back ? like if you left the end of the stable pathway you were already past the courtyard )

so now picture all ot this but suddenly the sky is super dark and everything is grim and gloomy. like a typical halloween movie. everything that was neat feels now worn out and the pathways are definitely scary, nobody wants to go there !

i was looking for my friends ( aka mercedes from fire emblem three houses ) but somehow couldn't find them, a fight broke out between ingrid and annette ( also fire emblem three houses ) and i don't like rich horse girls nor do i like racists so i was about to beat ingrid's ass. this big dude comes in and threatens me so i scold him and he and ingrid both go away. i win. i talk to more people but they're all acting weird except annette i guess. whatever weirdos i'm out

next i keep looking, but now i'm not alone - i'm not sure of whether it's a real presence or just a spirit until the end of this sequence where this boy tells me where to go and what to do to fix things a little, so i go into both stable pathways and end up being possessed twice ( demonic possession isn't as bad as they tell you i turned out fine ) so when the boy tells me where to go next i'm like "are we getting possessed a third time ?" he chuckles. ( i am gay so that was cute )

but we don't get any time to do that third thing ! we get out of the pathways and everyone is planning to go fight whatever is beyond The Unknown ! i look at the boy and awake me now pictures him as kraam from the stranded. cool i have a nice partner in crime i'm okay with that. the others leave, there's a lot of them but a second group is getting ready ! so kraam-but-not-quite grabs my arm firmly but like he doesn't hurt me or anything and we start going into The Unknown as well. im like hey wtf do we do now. and he tells me oh these two groups are going mad that couldn't be us let's go find the stray kids ( awake me now realises this is ~cringe~ but dream me was like whoa a solitary group of ppl who fight bigger evils ! BC YES THAT WAS WHAT SKZ WERE DOING IN THIS DREAM but i never met them ) so we can join forces w them and defeat these ppl. i look back. i see the second group from afar bc they have torches. im like wow this is like beauty and the beast.

something happens, idk what, but kraam starts running ! i'm a slow runner so i thought oh fuck not again but i ran after him anyway, the next bit is us running through a sort of jungle ( the sky is clear again ) and like its CRAZY i fucking loved that bit bc WOO ADVENTURE !! ( im a sagittarius )

then we slip between two trees' leaves and end up in a facility. we keep running bc if we stay there We Will Die. suddenly i am slowed down ( which leads me to believe before that he was holding my wrist but released my wrist when he slipped between the trees ) but he checks on me which i appreciate because that means he would rather die with me than survive without me, romance luv

his father ! the bastard. tries to kiss me in front of his mother. im like lmao dude thats disgusting die n go to catholic hell. i push him away and tell him off, he gets pissed but i cant go look for kraam bc his brothers r telling me abt how we're gonna go on a road trip. im like ? the world is abt to end tho ? but apparently my dream rly wanted a drama plot so fine.

his brothers have, allegedly, caught on to an alleged potential relationship between us. no im not gonna complain abt it im lonely and sad and gay so my dream fills in for me. theyre talking abt how theres not enough room for all of us in the van unless i sit on kraam for the trip but they ( specifically the one brother who oddly reminds me of dbk rain ) somehow make it into a sexual joke ? being me tho i didnt get it KSBSKDH... they were like talking abt legs ?? i remember it was abt how it wouldnt work with smth with four legs 'unless i could go with three' and like i dont even know what the hell that was supposed to mean we're talking abt a van not a horse ygwim ?

idk if i woke up after that but my brain did picture both me complaining to kraam abt his dad doing that and him getting quietly angry and just telling me to not come close to him again just in case hed try it again AND the beginning of the 'road trip' where i was indeed using kraam as a seat. and i was sleeping bc idk maybe i was tired from the running ! i hope my next dream is the continuation bc boy that was a whole drama episode

also i gave up and started calling him just kraam but it wasnt kraam ofc he just had kraams face from what i remember ! but he wasnt kraam at all

[ton-of-ham]

Relationship: Reader x Daveed

Warnings: like 3 curse words and bullying

Word Count: 742

Summary: Hi! I was wondering if I could have a daveed x reader where the reader is his close friend and they confess their insecurities after being bullied for being “too skinny” and he admits his feelings and lots of fluff follows?

~

You were laying on your couch on a lazy Sunday while watching reruns of Friends when you got a text notification.

From Daveed: Hey :) you want to come over?

To Daveed: Sure! When?

From Daveed: Um, I was think right now?

To Daveed: Lmao, okay. I’ll be right over :)

You chuckled as you exit out of the messaging app. Daveed always managed to make you smile, even when you felt like shit.

That was what you loved most about him. Of course, you also enjoyed how good looking, smart, and talented he was, but his kindness was what did it for you.

It was fair to say that you had quite the crush on Daveed, which was a major problem, considering he was your best friend, and you were pretty sure he didn’t reciprocate your feelings.

You sighed, knowing that if you were to tell him how you felt, your friendship would end, which wasn’t something you wanted to deal with. But you also knew that you wouldn’t be able to keep this secret for much longer.

You decided to distract yourself by opening up Instagram. You checked on your post from last night, which was a selfie you took the other day that you thought you looked really good in. Unfortunately, some other people didn’t share the same sentiment.

Her arms are so thin, wtf.

Are you anorexic?

You look starved, eat a cheeseburger.

I s2g, this girl has an eating disorder.

She’s way too thin, she just looks gross.

Your eyes flooded with tears as you read the comments. You had always been thin, but it wasn’t like you had an eating disorder or anything. Why did they comment such nasty things? Am I really that ugly?

You woke up and hour later, eyes red and puffy, not realizing you had fallen asleep. You rubbed your eyes and sat up, still feeling like shit from earlier. As you stretched, your phone started ringing. You picked up the phone, not bothering to check the caller ID, and were surprised to hear Daveed’s voice.

“Hey, why didn’t you come over?” he asked.

"Oh, I forgot,” you said, hoping he didn’t notice your shaky voice.

But he did. Of course he did.

"Are you okay? You sound upset,” he said concernedly.

"Yeah, I’m fine,” you choked out, your watery tone giving you away.

"I’m coming over right now.” You heard him getting up and looking for his keys.

"No you don’t ne-”

”-I’m coming over, don’t even try to talk me out of it,” he said, cutting you off.

“Fine,” you sighed, resigned to your fate.

Ten minutes later, Daveed walked right into your house, not bothering to ring the doorbell.

You looked up from the couch, and before you could say anything, he said, “(Y/N), tell me what’s going on. I want to make it better.” You started tearing up from the sweet words.

"Don’t cry, just tell me what happened,” he said, taking your hand as he sat next to you on the couch.

"Look at my Instagram.”

Daveed looked at you oddly, but did what you said.

"Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he read through the comments on your last post.

"It’s okay,” you whispered, looking down at your lap. “You didn’t do anything.”

Daveed was silent for a while, until he said, “If it’s worth anything, I think you’re beautiful.” You didn’t look at him, blushing and playing with your sweatpants.

"Thanks Daveed,” you spoke, knowing he was just saying it as a friend. But that didn’t stop your heart from fluttering.

"I’m serious.” He moved closer to you and rested his hands in your lap. “I think you’re the prettiest girl in the world.” You blushed even harder.

"I really like you,” he whispered in your ear, which send shivers down your spine. That’s when you finally looked at him.

"Really?” you asked softly.

He nodded. “Really.”

You glanced at his lips, and without hesitation, he leaned forward and gave you a soft kiss.

It was sweet and slow. It was everything you wanted your first kiss with him to be and more.

You tilted your head more to depend the kiss, which caused Daveed to smile against your lips.

After you broke apart, he took you in his arms and moved you so your legs were splayed across his legs.

"Y’know,” you began. “I really like you too.”

"Really?”

You smiled. “Really.”

~

IM BACK

sorry i was gone for a month, idk what happened but i kinda just put this blog on the back burner, which I feel bad about

but I’m working on the requests that were sent in and they will get done! I promise

also, there’s over 300 of you following me?? that’s crazy, thank you so much for reading (feel free to yell at me if I’m taking too long to update lmao) I mean I think 50 of them are porn bots, but that’s just a part of tumblr lmao

and i don’t love this imagine, but it’s midnight and I’m rly tired so please excuse any mistakes (and i didn’t know much about bullying bc I’ve never really dealt with it, but I hope this wasn’t too overly cliché)