#i hope one day i feel so secure about u that i won’t mind being friends w sharers 🥹❤️

[moving-to-dreamwinged]

in the vein of my last post kinda im wondering if maybe it’s time to start blocking ppl . .. i would feel so guilty but honestly i do think i i probably need to for my comfort i just feel SO BAD 😭 like why should i Wipe u from my field of vision just because we want to kiss the same jpeg ? ? but alas i get so scared and anxious (pathetic i know) whnvr i see it… sigh sigh sigh BIG SIGH

[joocomics]

Hii can u do what XH likes to do or how they’ll act if they’re jealous? Thank you!

cw: none

a/n: this might be a little bit messy, but expressing my thoughts on more angsty topics like this isn’t my strongest point when it’s not a drabble oof i apologise in advance if this isn’t what you expected, anonie! even a bit over the place i still hope you enjoy the read. ty for stopping by 🫶🏼

♡ gunil

i think he’d be good at hiding it, so if it happens a few times - most of them you might not notice that he’s being jealous until later. but it really depends on the situation and the person he’s being irritated by. i see him pretty protective as a boyfriend, and if someone is really getting on his nerves he might turn quiet and reserved; just thinking about how he wants to drag you out of the place with a hand on your waist cause he hates how they’re looking at you. after you’re finally left alone his feelings would immediately show, and he wouldn’t try to hide them; he couldn’t even if he tried. he’d sit down to talk to you about it, and after you assure him there’s nothing to worry about he’d calm down, and treat you like a princess till the rest of the night (he always treats you like that but when he’s jealous he really goes all out)

♡ jungsu

it’s a little bit difficult to put my thoughts together when it comes to him. on one side i see him get jealous easily, but then not so much. i see him being more vulnerable when it comes to this in the beginning stages of your to-be-relationship - when you’re in the talking stage, going on dates, but still haven’t talked about anything more than that. when he’s jealous he might overthink things a bit, and contemplate for a while if it’s something that he should bring up or not. that’s why i see him waiting to see if ‘this something’ happens again or grows into something bigger. if not, eventually he would just add it into the conversation lightly without any conflict in mind. when you show him he’s the only one you’re interested in, he most likely would double the physical contact while also putting his arm around you, and grabbing your hand more confidently in public

♡ jiseok/gaon

in a relationship i see him keeping his jealousy moments to himself, and i think those jealousy moments won’t be many tbh. he might even feel good if he catches guys checking you out, cause he knows you’re all his and you would never give those guys even a crumble of your attention. if someone tries to spark a conversation that rubs him the wrong way he’d be extra touchy with you or pull you on his lap, but he won’t feel the urge to bring it up after you’re left alone, cause in his mind that would be unnecessary. if you make him feel secure and loved, then i don’t see him paying too much attention to his temporary sparks of jealousy. he might even make a joke about it to make you laugh, “did you see that guy checking you out? in front of me?!”

♡ seungmin/o.de

i see him a mixture of jiseok and gunil. a part of him would feel good, proud even, that his gorgeous girlfriend is desired by people who can’t have her, but if someone tries to cross a boundary he’d hold you close and change the direction of the conversation. his body language when he’s with you would always be enough of a sign that you’re together, and there’s a chance depending on the situation he might get overprotective, but in a subtle way if that even makes sense? he wouldn’t want to ruin your mood on the spot or make you uncomfortable, so he would wait for you to get home and talk about it. the conversation would be chill and would end in a lot of soft kisses and i love you-s

♡ hyeongjun/junhan

oh he would be so obvious when he’s jealous. it won’t be difficult for you to catch him cause the emotions would be written all over his serious face. if you ask him about it he’d do his best to convince you he’s not jealous at all, cause he wouldn’t want to seem insecure in front of you. he’d laugh it off, but on the inside he’d be thinking about it all day, especially if you’re still not officially together; if you are it would fade down more quickly. he wouldn’t get extra touchy or something like that like the rest of the members, because he’d be too much in his head; he wouldn’t want anyone to notice (even though he suddenly goes quiet in the middle of the conversation?)

♡ jooyeon

i just have to bring up the perilla leaf debate here, and how quick he was with his answer - that his s/o will not help out his guy friend with separating those leaves. even if this clip didn’t exist i’d still be a firm believer that he’s the jealous type of boyfriend. he’d get jealous easily, and you’d always notice the subtle changes in his mood. he’d never do anything to frustrate you during the moment, and he’d try his best to be chatty and all with a hand on your thigh or around your shoulder. he’d play with your hair, with your hand, and he’d lean in your ear to whisper you things all of a sudden. people who know him well can always tell when he’s being jealous, but those who don’t wouldn’t notice a thing. he’d most likely be grumpy and extra affectionate after you get home

[wheeboo]

seventeen with an older s/o

PAIRING. seventeen (ot13) x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship, headcanons WARNINGS. none WORD COUNT. 1.09k

requested from 🌙 anon: hello! i love LOVE your writing! i wonder if you can write about how svt would be in a relationship with an s/o who's like 3-4 years old older than them? thank you very much.- 🌙

notes: hope u enjoy this anon, i rlly hope it makes sense?? for some reason it was a bit hard to write for some of them. ty for ur patience as well djflksdjfl

choi seungcheol 

used to being the Dad™ of 12 chaotic men so he prob want to take advantage of the fact that you are older than him. loves it when you would be the one to initiate things like wanting to cuddle with him, being the one to cook dinner for the night, etc. sometimes he just comes home absolutely exhausted from the day and prefers to be in your safe and comforting presence where you would whisper sweet things in his ears and take care of him

yoon jeonghan

teases you in a playful way ofc. like maybe you both are having a restaurant date or something and by the time it finished, you ask him “can you call the waiter over for the check if you see them?” and then he’s like “well since you are the grown-up, how about YOU call the waiter?” and you just roll your eyes to his remarks. then he’s like “jk” and calls the waiter over. doesn’t admit but he loves it when you baby him cuz it makes him feel so secure

joshua hong

can be another tease but only when the time is right yk. is prob like a mixture of cheol and jeonghan in a way, but he absolutely melts when you treat him like a baby at times w/ your little pet names and it shows in his face when he has that big wide smile and tries to hide it away. cherishes the little moments when you take care of him and he will def treat you back in the same way no matter the age difference

wen junhui

constantly asking for your approval on things, even the smallest kinds. like if he’s out getting groceries he’d text you asking if he should buy this or that, or if it’s fine for him to stop by the nearby bakery to buy something even tho he doesn’t need permission. already gives little spoon energy tbh so he loves the feeling of falling into your open arms and when you run your fingers through his hair, it soothes him a lot

kwon soonyoung

another one who asks for help and approval on stuff. absolutely adores waking up from a nap or in the morning and sees that you already planned an outfit for him laying at the end of the bed. gets so giddy when you call him sweet pet names or when you pat his head or grab his face in your hands. goes to you for a lot of advice for stuff and he becomes sooo attentive when you are talking to him and takes in all your words very carefully. he just admires you a lot heh

jeon wonwoo

doesn’t mind the age gap at all. I think that he is more into an equal relationship where it’s like a “you give me this, I give you back” kind of deal and you both make sure that one of you doesn’t get any less care or attention. but he doesn’t mind at all if you are to swoon over him and ruffle his hair cuz pretty sure he secretly loves it and won’t admit it

lee jihoon

pretends to hate being babied but don’t worry, he secretly loves it. prefers for you to do it when you are both alone together because if you were to do it in front of the other members, he would go all red in the ears and look down at the floor wishing he could sink in it. at rare times when he does want the affection it doesn’t take long for his cold exterior to melt as he allows you to take care of him

xu minghao

another one who doesn’t rlly mind the age difference, but I think since he naturally loves caring for others he might prefer to care after you more as a way to show his respect n love, age difference or not. like if you offer to cook that night he’d be like “don’t worry, just rest up so I can do it”. if you baby him he’d def pretend to despise it in some way, but he likes the balance between maturity and being babied, and loves how he can be open w you

kim mingyu

gosh he loves the feeling of being babied by you, or when you call him pet names or ruffle his hair and all that. even of this man is tall and huge he can’t help but feel so small when he’s around you and he’s whipped and fonding over your care and attentiveness and responsibility. he also makes sure to repay your care and will literally go all out to make sure you are 101% taken care of

lee seokmin

might be used to being treated like a baby his whole life since he has an older sister. is very playful and attentive and takes all your words of advice as something to treasure and cherish for himself, and he def loves to show you off as well. like “guess what y/n treated for me today???” like he is prob livid on the fact that you spoil him sometimes. loves the comfort n reassurance you give him

boo seungkwan

is also used to being babied. absolutely treasures all the advice you give him and the mature perspective you have on things. the type to prob cower behind you and let you take the lead in things as well. also continuously asks for approval and gives you the utmost respect possible. would act cute around you just for you to spoil him in some sorts. he also loves it when you allow him to take care of you back n also won’t shut up abt you to the members

vernon chwe

also doesn’t mind the age difference like it’s not even there for the two of you. you both seem to balance each other out quite equally and your relationship is already laid back as it is. honestly he might treat you like both are the same age. your relationship flows pretty naturally, but he does quietly appreciate the times you give him comfort and reassurance and he makes sure to show his love in subtle ways

lee chan

man already has to suffer with his 12 older brothers so he def doesn’t mind the age gap at all and is used to being babied, teased, and playfully bullied by them and you (save him). cherishes more from you ofc, and he thrives on the opportunity of being babied and taken care of. feels the immediate relief when coming home to you and you already have dinner cooked and a home date prepared

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae​

[alyjojo]

Thinking of You - June 🤞 2024 - Libra

Whole of their energy towards Libra: 4 Wands

This is a past contact, what kind I’m not sure. You could’ve lived together, or you definitely are from the same place initially, probably someone you knew in childhood. I’m getting neighbor, but that won’t apply everywhere. Sibling maybe. This person knows you can’t trust them, they also know however you knew them is not how they are currently and it makes them feel a way to know you feel this way about them. They wish they could show you how they’ve changed. Or this could be switched entirely and they just know you’ve kicked some bad habits. The biggest message I’m getting is “addict”, or rather, a former addict. For some, this person no longer lives anywhere near you. Someone has moved enough of a distance that it would be a “trip” to visit each other. Literal and joking, “wow what a trip” at the difference. You or they are nothing like it used to be.

Feelings: 7 Cups rev

I’m seeing drinking, could’ve been anything but alcohol is the clearest thing coming through. Possibly someone known to drink and drive, or there’s a story here about maybe going out together and you refusing to let them drive you drunk? Maybe switch it. It’s a party-going, substance indulging sort of wild energy, probably when you/they were young - and a lot has changed since. Why they’re thinking of you, I’m not sure. They don’t actually intend to do anything about it, you just weigh on their mind sometimes. Whatever these issues are that they had took a long time to work through, and probably had nothing to do with you, or anyone really.

Intentions: 4 Pentacles rev

Releasing. I get you as a part of “the past” as a whole, even when they think of you it’s among other things - who they used to be, shit they used to do, and they feel a way about it. Hoping they could have that back in a new way, but also knowing that’s probably not going to happen. There is emphasis on ending reckless behavior - even Adventure came out reversed, and Indulgence is rev at the bottom which…I’m not sure how that one is reversed at all tbh. Schedule shows them now. They grew up, got their shit together, are probably alone or are at least vibing independently and strong, probably somewhere else entirely location wise. Happy as a clam, but they think of you.

Actions: The Devil rev

Aw 🥹 I got literal tears for a sec. They’re not going to say anything, and it may not even be more than a half hour ordeal, but they will have a moment where you’re in their heart and they get curious. How is Libra doing? If you have social media (most of us do), they may click on your page for a second just to see…who you’re with, where you’re living, did you ever do that thing you always wanted to do, etc. And they will consider their own life, miss you a little, and then move on. That’s probably the most real life reading I’ve ever gotten 🙏

Messages:

Their side:

- You can’t trust me.

- I still think of you.

Your side:

- Living my life.

- Bookworm 📕

Oracles:

Adventure 🏔️ rev

Explorer - Passion - Travel

Schedule 🕰️

Management - Plan - Organize

Possible signs:

Capricorn, Pisces, Sagittarius & Aries

If you’re dealing with:

9 Pentacles is showing up again for your energy, so this person may just be peeking in and seeing that maybe you’ve moved, maybe you’re off living the dream independently and living your best life. I don’t get bitterness from them and I’m definitely getting happiness from you, completely secure in things right now - separately from the issues with/of others.

Aries - tired of being busy every second of every day, shit is getting old, they need to play 🎉

Taurus - could be traveling for work, or you are

Gemini - reluctantly returning to this drama but they’re not feeling great about it

Cancer - not giving to this, you, anything, not interested and that’s not changing - not now

Leo - no movement towards reconciliation, someone’s mom/spouse could not like the other person, or someone switched up their look and the other person isn’t into it

Virgo - not pressed, unbothered, though you may sending a flurry whirlwind of messages

Libra - making a final decision about how to work together or some new project, could be your boss - if so it’s a good one

Scorpio - pissed off at you hanging around forever and wasting their time

Sagittarius - not speaking & not taking any action

Capricorn - secretly crushing on you like crazy, could be flirting with you and you don’t even see it, there could be a quiet affair going on

Aquarius - missed an opportunity for romance due to grudges or holding back - either side - or they’re not interested for that reason

Pisces - chalks this up to a learning experience, they failed, and they’ll do better next time

[cassandralexxx]

If u know me irl don’t read this 🤩

like frfr specifically you know who you are don’t read this 🙏🙏🙏

anyways just stream of of consciousness internalized homophobia so if you don’t want to read my internal negative ramblings regarding my sexuality scroll 💕 I can’t stop thinking about Chapelle Roan’s song “good luck babe”. Like I keep listening to it and even when doing other things the lyrics remain on my mind. I don’t mean that in a “it’s stuck in my head” kind of way but instead like genuinely thinking about it. It’s a certain point the song feels painful to listen to. idk even though I am mostly out I still feel like I relate more to the subject of the song than roan. I connect more with being the person who will try to deny themself and live a life unfulfilled.

I thibk it’s bc within my personal life growing up (post realizing) I used to be desperate to be into guys but I never could make myself feel that. I couldn’t force my attraction to men and I couldn’t stop my attraction to women. It’s like I first realized I was gay after my first crush on a girl; up till that point I was still hopeful id develop feelings for men. freshman year at university during the first homecoming week despite coming out as gay to some of my peers I still tried to flirt with a guy. Idk I was so hopeful that through alcohol and flirtation I could “stop the feeling” but I couldn’t.

even now that I act more secure in my sexuality I’m not out to my dad nor his family or my moms family or my family friends. I would never marry a guy or whatever if it was for the purpose of hiding my sexuality bc that feels cruel to them but sometimes I wish to do something bc maybe that would let me be the idealized normal I had growing up.

idk it’s such a song where it feels like it’s being sung to me idk. Like even tho I say what I do I still think what if I just decide to find a “nice guy” and settle down. this song reminds me a lot of the conversation I had with someone 1.5 years ago where she called me crying after her friends wedding bc she was so sad that I could never be married like that bc I’m gay. She is bi so she can find a guy but I can’t have that and I deserve happiness too. (She was not sober hence the call) or a close friend of mine from high school that multiple times when we got drunk she would tell me about how she’s gay and would sometimes kiss one of our friends.

she’s dating a guy now.

it’s weird

even in this time that I think of as “so progressive” I know a lot of people who choose to repress themselves. Like yeah the song is about lesbians not bi ppl bc like bi ppl are still bi even in het relationships but like im talking about my close friends that yes they are lgbt but they will never claim that identity bc they feel the wrongness of it. Idk growing up and even sometimes now I remember thinking “if I was bi I’d be straight” bc like if I could choose I wouldn’t choose this.

sometimes I can’t handle the implication of what it means that I am a lesbian. And I think what if I just conform but like it reminds me of roans song. Good luck babe. It won’t work.

I can tell myself how great a guy is and how maybe we’d look good together but I can’t force my attraction. All I can feel is disgust. Which in turn disappoints me bc it’s like why do I feel this way.

I was talking to a friend the other day and I was trying to be like yes I understand that guy is hot but I’m not into him. And I was starting to be like I don’t know why that is and I realized oh yea that’s part of what makes me gay.

in media I feel like I relate more to the closeted character. I loved the happiest season, and I loved Harper. I felt for her, I felt that anxiety surrounding coming out about being herself. That didn’t change her love for Abby but it’s about herself. It devastated me and I saw myself in it.

I sometimes wish I lived in a world unlike our own.

[no-ctrl]

My period is approaching and I’ve been in a funk of self sabotage. A few updates: today I had an exam for my accounting class and got a B, I may potentially get laid off, my finances are looking a bit better despite my pay cut (take u fafsa), and… I’ve been missing Israel. No we aren’t shocked. I’ll elaborate on why I think I may be getting laid off. My coworker got laid off last week and she has a higher risk job which led both her and I to believe I will be on the chopping block next. I’m not too sure if it’ll happen since I have a feeling my employer won’t want to pay the unemployment but I guess we will have to wait to see what comes next. Overall I’m upset because no one likes to get laid off but I am a bit excited since 1) I hate the job/environment, 2) I had the intention of leaving this job behind in 2024, 3) I have quite a few jobs I’m highly interested in applying for which provide benefits and other opportunities. I’ve been feeling lacking of motivation and discipline. Not sure what is going on, potentially it’s just me being burnt out but I hope I can snap out of it. I know I can do whatever I set my mind to but my lack in discipline is creating a great disservice to myself. I have no been content with myself, I’ve been feeling ugly, feeling like I have neglected myself. I need to work on balance because when I have an unbalance in my life that’s when there tends to be issues. Right now I want to start going back to the gym, pursuing hobbies, overall just be the best me possible. Lately I’ve just been into bed rotting and staying in which I’m trying to break out of.

As for missing Israel… I can’t tell is this just routine or a genuine longing for him. When I talk about it with friends and speak from the heart I find myself saying things like “I’m lonely but I don’t want just anyone, I want him.” Maybe it’s the comfort of my past with him. It’s tough to navigate these feelings. If I wasn’t so prideful I would have just reached out to him by now but that is not the case. I wish we could catch up. I would love to update him on my life and hear about his life. I tend to think about the possible scenarios between him and I when I do something out of my norm. Such as getting a new job at my school, returning back to school, going a day trip to Vegas with my friends. It’s experiences like these that I wish I could share with him. Whenever I am happy I wish I could be happy with him. I’m not going to put any words in his mouth but I can’t help but feel like he didn’t want that with me bc he made the decision to leave me. In moments like now when my self esteem is on the ground, I almost feel like I deserved getting walked out on. In midst of the self loathe I feel like I deserve the bad things he put me through. I can’t explain why it’s just a toxic spiral I fall into when I don’t feel too great about the person I am. It’s truly tough trying to move forward. There is a small deeply rooted belief/hope I have that he still loves me and will return one day but unfortunately that is not reality. It’s a tough pill to swallow and I just want security in a partner. I’m not boy obsessed but it’s actually about just wanting to build a community/family for myself where I can be myself without a facade. There was a point where Israel was that for me but that is the past not my present.

[lxmiko]

Uhm...hello!

This is my first time requesting something....sooo if u don't mind....

Can u do something where luxiem gets jealous?? if you've done this already pls ignore this >¬<

Anyways thank u and I love the way u write!💞

luxiem being jealous / protective . . .

— ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ—

hello hello !! sorry for the incredibly long wait ;; my first week of school just ended !! i’m trying to set some sort of schedule where i write a lil bit of whatever i’m doing throughout the week and then finish it up on the weekend if i don’t have any big projects due mhmhm, aka updates most likely every five to seven days (due to the fact that how much i write rn is actually a lot for me ••;;)

sorry that this kinda became more of a jealousy/protective thing ••;; wasn’t sure how to write jealousy for some of them ;;

but anyway, moving on to the brainrot >:D

characters: luxiem (separately)

— *✧･ﾟ: * —

vox akuma

vox makes it very obvious when he’s jealous, he’s a little more passive aggressive toward whatever’s making him frustrated, and pins it on you (jokingly) afterward when the problem’s gone

he takes his eyes off of you for a second and comes back to see you swarmed by a stranger, and immediately, he begins to frown, but he calms himself enough to approach you quietly. perhaps he’s misreading the situation, maybe they’re a friend of yours, a relative or someone similar (but would they make your brows furrow? make you frown as you shake your head in polite refusal? he hopes he knows you better than that)

“hey there, my love,” he murmurs as he appears out of thin air by your side, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek with his eyes locked onto your confused expression with a smile. even as you stutter out a reply, he keeps his focus on you, completely ignoring the stranger in front of the two of you

his arms stay wrapped snugly around you, his gaze sweet as can be (and he makes sure the person sees the way you return his affection when you place a hand on top of the one he has on your hip)

and god, is vox protective .///. , his attention on you isn’t just for show. his eyes quickly and subtly scan for anything that’s amiss, his arm curling a little tighter at any and every difference he catches (that stranger best hope nothing’s wrong or they’ll be six feet under before they even know it ••;;)

it’s only when they make themselves known with an irritated sigh that vox’s eyes lazily drag to them. his lips curl up at the sneer on their face as he addresses you again. “who’s this, dear?”

it takes only a few minutes for the stranger to leave, frustrated and with a scowl at vox’s blatant attitude toward them (and your inability to stop him even as when you slap him arm and tell him to be nice ;;)

don’t worry about him being a lil shit after they’re gone though!! he means no harm, it’s just that he loves when you push at his chest and look away with a pout whenever he leans toward you with that stupid grin of him, asking, “you did that on purpose, didn’t you, love?”

he pokes fun at you and pouts dramatically when you huff, accusing you of being “so mean” to him when he’s only asking a “simple question”

you can try to win, argue with him all you want, tease him back, or maybe even get so flustered that you die (;;), but all he’ll do is shoot you a cheeky smile and go “mmhm~” >:c

even though he doesn’t get jealous often (as he might try to make you think) since he feels very secure in your relationship and himself ^^, he won’t ever give up the chance to tease you, so watch out for that ;;

— *✧･ﾟ: * —

mysta rias

mysta tries really hard to not let you know when he’s jealous ;;

it’s almost like an embarrassment to him. he hates doubting and he hates feeling so insecure no matter how many times you tell him you love him, and he stumbles to come up with lies to cover up his feelings, especially if it’s over something he thinks is stupid

you asked him on a date earlier that day, and he’s currently walking toward where you wanted to meet up. his mind supplying useless anxieties as he came closer and closer. god, he hopes he looks okay, that he isn’t late even though he made sure he’d arrive a few minutes early, but above all else, his heart thrums with excitement with every step ^^

but up ahead, he sees a stranger looking at you so sweetly, your back to him, and he stutters in his step at the sight. maybe you know them, maybe he shouldn’t intrude…

his head floods with numerous thoughts, perhaps you want to talk to them more than him right now, you might’ve asked him to hang out today but maybe you had a sudden change of plans

he hates that his mind jumps to all these stupid conclusions, but he can’t help it, nor can he the resentment that bubbles at the sight of the stranger. he wants to run away, terribly so

before his thoughts overtake his mind, he catches the frown you show them, taking a step back as they take a step forward. you’re uncomfortable, he notes, and it makes him furrow his brow in confusion for a second at the revelation

while mysta’s not the most observant person, something clicks in his mind, and he just knows something’s wrong, especially with the way that stranger’s trying to place a hand on your arm with a leer as you jerk away from their grasp. it makes his blood boil.

mysta quickens his pace, yanking their hand from your wrist, his grip tightening when they immediately try to defend themselves. “don’t touch them,” his scowl grows at their insistence that they weren’t trying to do anything, and it especially gets worse when the stranger tries to ask for your opinion

they ask you to confirm that they’re just a friend, right? mysta’s just overreacting, right? but mysta knows better. he pushes the stranger away with the grasp he has on them, his voice low and mean as he speaks, “i don’t care who you are, don’t touch them or come near us ever again.”

the stranger stumbles away with a curse and disappears among the crowd, and the second they’re gone, mysta’s eyes and hands are wandering over every inch of your body, inspecting for any injuries or discomforts. “are you okay, babe? shit, i should’ve came earlier,” he scolds himself and apologizes profusely despite your adamant refusal to it being his fault

he sulks and pouts, and god, he just hopes you’re okay and that you’ll forgive him (even if he’s done nothing wrong ;;). the whole situation leaves a bad taste in his mouth, but he forgets any and all of his bitter emotions toward the stranger to focus on you (and perhaps if you give him a kiss, he’ll feel even better ^^)

— *✧･ﾟ: * —

luca kaneshiro

luca doesn’t really notice that he’s jealous, being one to confuse his feelings at times and overall having a hard time expressing himself as someone other than “the himbo who screams ‘pog >:DD!!!’”

though, it doesn’t take much to get him jealous, but most of the time, it’s not enough to make him react any different than he usually does

it’s only when someone’s bothering the two of you while you’re out on a date that jealousy burns him and anger flickers dangerously within him

he’s only gone for a moment, perhaps picking up the food and drinks you two ordered at the counter, when he comes back to you uncomfortably but politely rejecting someone’s advances ;;

a flurry of emotions and thoughts hit him all at once: anger, jealousy, annoyance, and most importantly, he has to get that person away from you

he approaches you both with a furrowed brow, asking who the person is and making sure the hand he has secured around your hip is noticeable. his presence alone is intimidating, especially with the scowl that begins to grow on his face for every second the stranger lingers, but eventually, they stumble away with a shaky gasp at luca’s glare, out of sight

he turns to you, frowning and quiet, even as you pull him to a secluded area for him to calm down, he still pouts at you ;; responding with mumbles to your questions

but then, you ask him if he’s jealous. he shrugs, thinking that if this is what he’s feeling, the slight weight on his chest that burns and makes him so upset, then he’ll admit it. “yeah, i am, what about it?”

the instant it clicks that it’s jealousy, luca scolds himself in his head. he knows you love him, and he’s confident in all that is you and him (a part of him can’t believe he doubted what the two of you are in the first place)

he flashes you a cheeky grin and showers you with love, pulling you close with arms encircling your waist, his head snuggling into the junction of your neck and shoulder and pressing sweet, little kisses to your skin .///.

it’s a twist that you could only expect luca to pull on you, giving you copious amounts of affection with a smile on his face even if he was frowning and pouting at you earlier

“i love you, honey,” he snuggles onto you as his arms wrap just a little tighter around you, “i love you, you know that?” he repeats and pulls back to admire your features for a moment before giving you a chaste kiss to the lips with a smile

luca knows you’re his and he reminds you he’s yours as well, pulling you out from the secluded area you took him to to continue your date (he makes sure it goes smoothly this time ^^)

— *✧･ﾟ: * —

ike eveland

ike likes to think he’s mature enough to not get jealous, and he defines it more as being (over)protective instead when he feels that way at times

as much as he hates confrontation, the idea of you being bothered by some stranger and being uncomfortable when he could be doing something to help you makes him act

he nearly drops the energy drinks he bought at the store the two of you are at when he hears you yelp

there’s someone who has their hand wound tightly around your wrist, tugging you closer as they whisper something about how you’re too pretty to be alone, and ike feels something burning within him, his hands trembling with anger as he approaches the two of you with fast steps

as he draws nearer, his lips part to speak, “let go of them,” his voice is clipped and borderline snappy, but he adds to the end of his demand to be polite, “please.”

the stranger questions his authority over you, as if you’re something to be owned, asking things such as who was he to say what they could do to you, you didn’t belong to him, and ike swears he’s never been so annoyed in his entire life when his hand comes between the two of you, his fingers prying off the person’s grimy grip on you, careful to not hurt you

“i suggest you leave,” he tries to hard to keep his voice even, but it’s so hard when all he can think of is how this person’s an absolute idiot, and how he’s one too for having you to wait outside when he went into the store

when the stranger gives up and walks away, ike turns back to you, his eyes filled with worry as he traces your features, his hands trembling almost undetectably

he smooths out the creases in your clothes caused by the scuffle and murmurs under his breath, whether it’s to you or himself, “it’s okay, you’re okay, everything’s fine.”

he was so scared, he realizes, of what could’ve happened if he appeared a little too late, or if the stranger had been a lot more stubborn

it worries him to no end, but he takes in a shaky breath and sighs, as long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters

reassure him please ;; he needs to know that you're fine and that he did enough

no matter what you say though, he'll continue to be wary while the two of you are out, tensing when situations feel dangerous and darting his eyes around the area more often to make sure everything is fine

ike keeps his eye on you too and might worry a little too much (don’t be surprised to see him glancing to the shop’s door every time someone enters to make sure it’s no one suspicious ^^;;) but he means very well and just wants to keep you safe .///.

— *✧･ﾟ: * —

shu yamino

shu isn't one for jealousy, and he believes you’re able to take care of yourself without needing him to step in, though it doesn’t stop him for subtly looking out for you either way

he’s always assumed he was pretty dense, but he always seems to notice everything when it comes to you

like the stranger flirting with you right in front of him while the two of you are out on an errand

he’s not entirely shocked, since he usually limits pda since he feels that those things should be kept a little more private, so it’s harder to tell that you and him are dating

but this person is completely ignoring him

whether they knew you and shu were together, they focused only on you, sending flirty remarks as you smile politely, albeit uncomfortably

there’s a weird feeling building in his chest, something that makes him want to snap at the stranger to go away, but he tries to make no mind of it even if his eyes stay locked on the interaction between you and the stranger

he’s usually pretty good at staying out of things like these, knowing you can take care of it yourself, but whatever emotion he’s feelings pushes him to cough and step closer to you, hoping to get the stranger’s attention off you

when they don’t react, he clears his throat a little louder, and finally, the stranger shoots him an annoyed look, but at least he has their attention

he looks to you and leans in with a hand on your lower back to murmur, loud enough for the stranger to hear, “babe, we should keep moving. we only need to get one more thing.”

at the petname, the stranger cringes and immediately departs with a few colorful words and judging stares (something about leading them on ••;;)

you turn to him all confused, asking why he did that for, but he just shrugs and instead tugs you along to continue on with the errand

he slips his hand down to yours, keeping your fingers intertwined for the rest of the time the two of you are out :>>

you can point out that he’s being a little more affectionate than usual, at least in public, but he’ll deny any and all accusations as he subconsciously rubs his thumb back and forth on top of yours as you hold hands ^^

in the end, he’ll probably never tell you his reasoning for getting rid of the stranger, but he’ll admit to himself in the very least that while he’s not a petty person (nijitoxic, fake..), the fact that he had ruined that person’s day made him a lot happier than he should’ve been (nijitoxic, real?!)

— ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ—

update on discord server !! it’s very much slowly coming together ! i’m not entirely sure what technical things gotta be done to it just yet since it’s a pretty slow process with the only worker being just me (especially because of school ;;) but it’s coming along!! i’ll post an update soon so look out for that if you’re interested in joining ^^!!

[yelenasdiary]

Hii, hope u feel better soon! Could I request one where Florence is in love with the reader who’s the writer for her new movie but she struggles to admit it to herself until it gets pointed out by one of her costars or like in a game of truth or dare or something.

Game of Confessions

Pairing: Florence Pugh x Reader

Summary: A simple game of truth or dare lets Florence open up about her feelings. 

|Fluff | 1.3K | Mentions of drinking |

Requests are closed.

AC: Loved this idea!! I hope you enjoy it! X *I had to repost this because I posted it with the wrong request, please forgive lmao*

Being a writer has always been a passion of yours, you’d been writing things here and there since you could remember. So, when you were offered to be the writer for the new Marvel mini-series for Disney + called ‘Bishop Security’ you jumped at the chance. You couldn’t stop smiling when Marvel actually picked up your script and ideas and decided to go with it.

The series focused on the story of Kate Bishop and Yelena Belova so getting to work with not only Marvel, but Hailee Steinfeld and Florence Pugh was blowing your mind. You’d met and worked with Florence once before on another movie but still, you enjoyed being on set day in and day out, watching scenes and listening to script suggestions or writing changes with all the talented people you were working with. It caught your attention that Florence was acting a little different towards you than she usual was, at first it worried you and made you sad thinking that you might have done something wrong, but she assured you that wasn’t the case and that she simply just had a bit on her mind. 

“Take a picture Flo, it’ll last longer” Hailee whispered to Florence before handing her the takeaway coffee, “huh? I wasn’t staring” Florence’s eyes quickly moved away from your figure as you were going over the script with the director. “Oh please, you can’t stop staring at her since we started filming” Hailee teased with a soft elbow to the ribs. “We work together, I have to look at her”

“Yeah, look, not drool honey” Hailee chuckled, “come on, we have a scene” she adds before the two walks towards you and the director. “Good morning” you greet both women with a smile, “ready to smash the day?” you add. 

“I’m always ready” Florence returned the smile. “That’s what we like to hear” you replied, “We’ve just made some slight changes to the scene if you both want to have a quick run over the script before we start” you suggest. “Absolutely” Florence said taking a look at the new script before walking away with Hailee. 

“I’m always ready” Hailee teased once more, “Drop it” Florence chuckled. “You should tell her you like her”

“It’s a bit more than that” Florence mumbled as she read through the changes. 

“Wait, what? You’re in love with her? Is that what I’m hearing?” Hailee perked up to Florence’s surprise, “huh? That’s not what I said” her cheeks when red. “Oh you’ve got it bad! How long?” 

Florence sighed in defeat, “since we first worked together last year” she admits, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since” 

“That’s adorable! But why won’t you tell her?” 

“Because she’s her and I’m me, we wouldn’t work…I mean, we would both be away for work and that’s not fair on either of us”

“So? that’s the beauty of love! If it’s meant to be than it’ll find a way to work” 

“I don’t know” Florence mumbled with a sigh, “can we just get back to work?” she asked. 

Over the last couple of weeks of filming things with Florence got harder, she became distance and not her happy self around you. You were sure you’d done something to upset her by now and asked Hailee for help. 

“Oh, trust me, it’s not what you think” Hailee tried to hide her wide smile, “Are you sure? It just feels like I’ve done something to upset her, she’s distant and cold towards me. This isn’t like her. I really just want to make things up to her if I’ve done something to hurt her feelings or made her think less of me” you explain. Hailee panicked slightly with coming up with a good distraction to keep you a peace while Florence had her stressful break down on her feelings. “I’m sure it’s not you, in fact, she’s been like that with me as well. Sometimes work can be a lot, you know, a lot of late nights and stuff. I’ll talk to her” she smiled, her words were enough to lower your worries, “what would be great, thank you and please, if we’re working too much, let us know!” you added before walking to your trailer. 

Hailee rushed straight to Florence’s trailer once you were out of sight. “Flo open the door” she said in a huff, “what’s going on?!” Florence opened the door in a worry. “You’ve gotta do something about your little Y/n issue. She’s worried she’s upset you and is asking questions”

“W-what did you tell her?” 

“I just said that you’re probably a little stressed with work and that you’d also been distant with me. I had too, she’s upset and worried she’s hurt your feelings or done something to upset you. Just tell her, it’s driving you crazy”

“I know, I know but I just…just leave it with me, I promise ill sort it out” Florence replied, her tone making her words unsure of their meaning. 

A couple of more weeks go by, and things have changed slightly between you and Florence, she wasn’t as distant but her conversations with you were kept short and sweet, not to mention she was lacking the eye contact with you.

Once filming had wrapped up, Hailee invited you to a night out for celebration drinks, which you of course agreed to. Being with the cast and crew once last time was special, there were plenty of drinks drank and food shared, the restaurant booked to accommodate the group with a tab that would be paid by Hailee and Florence as a thank you for all the hard work. After a few fun and eventful hours, most of the guest had left to get an early night before flying home or helping to back up the set. It was just you, Hailee, and Florence by the end of the night which led to the three of you playing stupid little games as the group got smaller and smaller until it was just the three of you. 

“Okay Florence, your turn!” Hailee smiled before sipping her cocktail, “truth or dare” she adds. Florence smiled, “dare”

“I dare you to confess a secret” Hailee smirked as your eyes looked between the two, Florence’s smile dropped as she knew where this was going, “I don’t think so” she chuckled lightly. “Nope, come on, you said dare and now you have to do it” Hailee said, “it is the rules” you smiled before sipping your own drink. Florence sighed as she chewed her bottom lip and shook her head in Hailee’s direction. 

“I don’t have any secrets” she spoke. 

“Bullshit!” Hailee shook her head, “just say it would you!” she adds. By now you felt a little suspicious like there was something Hailee knew that you didn’t. Florence downed her drink in a panic before looking at you with a soft smile, “I think you’re beautiful” she complimented to your surprise, “thanks Flo, so are you” you smiled.  

“No” she chuckled, “I think…. I, uhm, I”

“Just say it already Pugh!” Hailee nudged.

“Say what?” you frowned slightly. 

Florence sighed once more, swallowing the lump in her throat, “I’m in love with you, Y/n” she finally admits, “it’s why I’ve been distant with you…I’m sorry that you thought you upset me, you didn’t…I’m just – “

“Beautiful” you said cutting her off, “you’re beautiful and you’re adorable, why didn’t you just say something?” you asked. Hailee sat back in her seat watching the love story unfold. “Because I didn’t want to scare you” Florence spoke. Without replying, you stood up and walked over to her and slightly lent down cupping her face and smashing your lips onto hers. Hailee gasp at the action, Florence melted into your touch, kissing you back with passion. “W-wow, I wasn’t expecting that” she chucked against your lips, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long” you replied as she pulled you in for another kiss. 

“Looks like my job here is done” Hailee smiled, “I’ll leave you two it” she added walking over to the bar. 

“This doesn’t mean you get to skip out on a first date” you smiled once you both pulled away, “I’d love to take you out” Florence returned the smile. 

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @natasha-belova | @jeyramarie | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145  | @sophie-xox | @shin-conan-kun | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @get-the-fuck-outta-here | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 |

[adoringhaikyuu]

you have a nightmare that they cheated on you

characters: akaashi + iwaizumi + oikawa + (gn!reader)

request: hi! can I request a headcanon where akaashi, iwaizumi, and oikawa wake up to you having a nightmare that they cheated on you? something fluffy please 🙏🏼🥺 • by @vitamingummies

warnings: mentions of cheating ig but it doesn’t actually happen obvi– + a lil bit of angst

notes: hope u enjoy <3 i tried to make them all a bit different! (i don’t think i’ll do anymore of these tho cause i feel like i’ve run out of possibilities for it to go)

akaashi:

akaashi stirred awake slightly when he felt you moving around on your side of the bed

he was half asleep, drifting in and out

and he felt the bed dip as you got up, which he assumed meant that you were going to the bathroom

but once he realized it’d been a while since you left, he checked the time, 3am 

he got up to go look for you, wiping his eyes sleepily

he went to the bathroom and frowned when the lights were off and you were nowhere to be found

he slugged off to the kitchen, then the living room and was shocked to see you sitting there in the dark, wrapped up in a blanket

“baby?” his voice was deep and groggy as he padded over to you, yawning before continuing. “what are you doing out here?” 

you noticed him, but didn’t look up, trying to hide your face from him, which, even in his drowsy state, he knew was a bad sign. 

he bent down in front of you and felt the fatigue jump out of his body when he realized you had tears falling down your cheeks. “what’s wrong? what happened?” he brought his hands to your cheeks and tried to wipe the tears, but more kept falling seemingly at a faster rate once he touched you. 

he tried to catch your eye, but you wouldn’t let him. “come on baby, please talk to me? i’m not going anywhere until i figure out what’s wrong.” 

he sat down next to you and pulled you into his lap, making sure the blanket was secure before holding you tight and running his hand up and down your side soothingly. 

when your cries had reduced to sniffles and you calmed down a bit, you spoke up, playing with the collar of akaashi’s shirt to distract yourself. “i just...it’s stupid––”

he interrupted immediately, “of course it’s not stupid, if it made you this upset then we should talk about it. i wanna make sure you’re alright, okay?”

you nodded and swallowed, psyching yourself up to reveal everything to him. “well i––i had a dream, no, a nightmare really,” you laughed humorlessly. “where you um...you left me? well that was after you cheated on me but...” you felt him take a deep breath, “it just felt so real, you know? it hurt like a lot and then i woke up because it was so painful and i guess...the emotions carried through even after i left the dream.��� you sighed, “i’m sorry i didn’t mean to worry you, i just...i don’t know, i needed to clear my head, i guess.” 

a few seconds passed before you felt a gentle hand under your chin, raising your head. you finally looked into akaashi’s eyes and he spoke up. “baby, i’m sorry that you experienced that, even if it was just a dream. just hearing about it hurts me too.” he swiped his thumb over your cheek and you nuzzled into his touch. “but know that i would never ever do that to you, i could never hurt you like that and i won’t, okay?” he waited for you to nod in agreement before nodding as well and pulling you into a hug. “i’m here to love and protect you, remember that.” he kissed your cheek but didn’t let you out of the hug. 

“are you better now?” again, he waited for you to nod. “let’s go back to bed, yeah?” he hugged you tight. “i’m not letting you go tonight.” 

iwaizumi:

iwaizumi grunted, confused when he felt you moving around more than usual behind him, 

no longer wrapped around him with one leg over his waist like how you had fallen asleep

when he heard you mumble a few things under your breath, he thought maybe you were just dreaming 

but when he heard a whimper of his name, followed by “please no––”

he turned around immediately, and turned on his bedside lamp, concerned and alert

he noticed that your face looked like it was in pain, like you were hurt

he put a hand on your cheek and stroked it gently with his thumb

“wake up sweetheart.”

you shook your head from side to side, seemingly wrestling with what you were seeing in your nightmare

he kissed your forehead, “come on, come back to me. open your eyes for me baby.”

he shook your side a few times and you finally opened your eyes, but he frowned when he noticed the pain still hadn’t left your face

his eyes widened when you suddenly threw yourself into his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck, sniffling as you blinked the tears away. he wrapped his arms around you immediately, “hey it’s okay, i’m here. you’re safe.” 

he rubbed his hands up and down your back soothingly and whispered reassuring things in your ear, kissing your temple every now and then. 

after a few minutes of holding you, he spoke up. “do you wanna tell me what happened in your nightmare? i’m right here, nothing bad’s gonna happen i promise.” 

your hand came up to hold the side of his jaw and neck and you sat up slightly, but he made sure to keep you secure and not let you run off, not that you were going to. “um...well i was coming over to your house cause we had a date night planned...” you trailed off slightly and felt his hand rub your thigh reassuringly. you sighed, “the door was unlocked so i came in, and i noticed another girl’s shoes in by the door?” you felt him stiffen under you but you went on. “so i went to find you, to ask you about it...but when i got to your room, you were...on top of her, and you can...fill in the blanks i’m guessing...” 

he opened his mouth to say something but you spoke before he could. “and you don’t have to apologize or anything, i know it wasn’t you and you wouldn’t do that...it just felt real and that really hurt me. but i’m sure i’ll get over it soon.” you tried to smile but it felt like a grimace more than anything and iwaizumi sighed. you mistook it for annoyance and your eyes widen, “oh i’m sorry, you’re probably tired, i’ll just––”

you tried to get off his lap but he stopped you, confused. “no, darling i don’t care what time it is, this is important. i only sighed because i don’t like how you’re pretending to be okay when you’re not.” he put a hand under your chin, “it’s okay if you’re not okay. but i’m here for you, to help you feel better, yeah?” he kissed your nose lightly. “you have nothing to apologize for, and i know you said i don’t either, but i’m sorry that i hurt you, even if it was in a dream.”

you smiled for real this time and kissed his cheek, making him blush lightly. “you’re too sweet to me, you know that?”

his brows furrowed, “not possible.” he gave you a quick peck on the lips and lied you back down on the bed with a small smile before turning off the light. he slid back in with you and put his arm around your waist to pull you close. “you ready to sleep?” 

you nodded, “do you mind cuddling me until i fall asleep?”

“of course not, but you’re funny if you think i’m letting you go at all, even in my sleep.” 

oikawa:

oikawa was sleeping peacefully, rolling over to wrap his arm around you and pull you close and his brows furrowed when you swung his arm back to his side, but he stayed asleep

he kept sleeping even after you repeated this three more times 

but when you did it one more time, this time with more force, he whined and blinked his eyes open slowly

“y/n-chaaan, let me hold you~”

you simply huffed and kept staring in front of you, into the darkness of your room, your arms and legs crossed as you sat up against the headboard

you don’t even know how long you’d been awake, it was 4am, but you couldn’t be bothered to care

as soon as you saw oikawa with his tongue down another girl’s throat, while she sat in his lap, you were so mad you couldn’t think

...this was in a dream of course, and you know that––

but it still pissed you off

“wha––” oikawa leaned up on one arm to get a better look at you and make sure he wasn’t imagining things. “what are you doing up?” he turned his head to look at the clock on the nightstand, “wh––four a.m??” he turned back to you dramatically, and while normally you would’ve found it amusing, today was a different day. 

you felt oikawa drag himself to a sitting position as he stared at you frantically and utterly confused. “what is going on here??” when you didn’t respond, his shoulders drooped down and he placed a hand on your thigh which you quickly slapped off. he squawked, “baby??–”

“you don’t get to call me that.” 

his head bobbed back, offended. “what do you mean?! what happened in the hours that i was asleep?” 

again, you stayed silent and of course, he kept talking. “y/n-chan you can’t just not tell me what’s wrong, this is outrageous!” 

you sat there, brewing in your annoyance for a few moments before cutting off his rant, voice completely monotone. “you cheated on me.” 

there was a brief silence, a moment of processing before he exploded. “i’m sorry, what?! i most certainly did not! what are you talking about ?! i am loyal!”

you shrugged, only fueling the fire and his eyes widened. “what do you mean?” he imitated your shrug mockingly, “where did you get this insane theory from?!” 

he was talking far too loud for 4am, and you did not want a visit from the neighbors. “tooru––”

“tooru?! who is that?! i’m baby! love! your loyal boyfriend! soon to be husband when we’re ready!––”

you finally turned to him, “you’re being too loud! it’s four am––”

he glared but lowered his voice, maybe a fraction. “y/n-chan you are not gliding over your preposterous accusation like this––why on earth do you think i cheated?!”

you blinked, unfazed. “i saw it.” 

“that’s impossible because it never happened!”

“yes it did! i saw your tongue go down her fucking throat and your hands were all over her and she was in your lap, tooru. that’s why i woke up because i saw it and i got mad. how dare you do that––” 

“i’m telling you that never happened! i don’t know who you saw but it wasn’t––wait.” he blinked a few times and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. his eyes narrowed and he tilted his head. “did you say you saw it and you woke up? are you talking about a dream??” 

you clenched your jaw, “more like nightmare but that’s irrelevant, the point is you cheated–”

“y/n-chaaan––” he threw himself on you and wrapped his arms around you, ignoring your protests. he placed his head on your lap and looked up at you, with a pout. “you scared me! i thought you were really mad at––”

“i am mad at you.” 

“what?! but it wasn’t even real!”

“dream tooru and real tooru are basically the same.” 

“when are you going to stop calling me that?” he frowned, giving you puppy dog eyes and you groaned, slapping a hand over his face (gently), but he still yelped anyways.

“don’t look at me like that.”

he took your hand off and kissed your palm softly. “why, is it working?” 

you sighed and looked away. “...i know it wasn’t real but it still hurt seeing you like that, you know? that’s why i was so annoyed––it wasn’t even real but it still affected me so much.” 

he sat up against the headboard and pulled you into his lap, pleased to see you weren’t complaining. you placed your hands on his shoulders and kept your eyes down, focused on his chest. he squeezed your waist and ducked his head down to peck your lips, smiling victoriously when it made you smile. 

“i would never be as dumb as dream me and throw our precious relationship away, i love you way too much and value having you in my life far too much to do something like that.” he kissed your cheek, “you’re it for me, got it?”

you nodded, looking up into his eyes to see how serious he was. you could see the love he had for you. “okay...i love you baby.”

he smiled, “i love you too. so much.” he kissed you on the lips gently. “now can we please cuddle? we both need our beauty sleep.” 

[slasherhaven]

what about,,,, the slashers reactions to getting properly hugged,,,, like no words, just pure affection and support,, like im here for u its okay to be vulnerable w/ me,,, if you didn't do it already obviously!!

The Slashers’ reacting to being properly hugged:

Thomas Hewitt

This man needs a hug! But he won’t feel comfortable initiating physical affection until you’re in a relationship and he knows for sure that you’re comfortable with it. Then, he’s vert affectionate.

This means that he needs affection but isn’t going to ask for it.

But you knew this because you knew him. So, you sighed before wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest.

You just wanted to offer him some love and support, to let him know that you are there for him if he needs you.

Thomas was surprised by he absolutely melts and he certainly isn’t going to push you away. 

He’ll wrap his arms around you, holding you securely but not too tightly against him. 

He won’t pull away until you do.

If it happens when he’s more comfortable and confident in your relationship, he will lift you up and move to somewhere he can sit down, he’s probably been working all day and is tired. So, he can just hold you like his own teddy bear. Not that you mind at all.

He could just cry the longer you embrace him. He didn’t even realise how much he needed this until now. But now he’s going to need at least a hug a day, please just make this man feel loved and cared for!

Michael Myers

Michael, of course, hadn’t done anything to prompt your sudden act of affection. But you knew that he was a little more human that people tended to assume, and that meant that he needed affection too, he would just never ask for it.

So, you wrapped your arms around his waist and held yourself close to him. Holding yourself against his chest, you couldn’t get closer if you tried. 

Your eyes were scrunched shut, unsure of how he would react to the embrace.

He did give you a small push away but you just tightened your hold. You just needed him to know how you felt, that you were there for him, and you hoped he understood what the gesture meant.

Michael isn’t likely to wrap his arms back around you but his mind is a mess (a rare thing for him) as he allowed you to hug him, his arms still by his sides.

He does understand your message...he’s just unsure of what to do with it.

Jason Voorhees

It doesn’t take you long to figure out that Jason needs a real good hug. He needs somebody to accept him, to love him, to be kind to him.

And what better way to tell him all of these things than a proper hug?

It’s when he comes back to the cabin, and you know what he’s been doing and you know that he doesn’t feel great about it, more because he feels like he’s dragged you into this.

You let him clean up and as soon as he enters the room you’re in again, you walked up to him and wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a silent hug.

You didn’t need words, you didn’t need to say anything. You hoped he would understand what you’re telling him. He did.

Your embrace caught him by surprise but he still carefully wrapped his arms around you, still so worried about hurting you.

The gesture was exactly what he needed in that moment, something that just reminded him of your love and acceptance.

He won’t pull away until you do, the two of you just standing in the middle of the room in an embrace. There is nowhere he would rather be.

Brahms Heelshire 

This is exactly what he needs! And he knows that this is what he needs.

Ever since the two of you started knowingly living together, all he’s wanted is for you to show him genuine affection, more than a chaste kiss goodnight.

He wants you to love him and show him that love, he wants you to care for him and hold him.

You had just noticed that he seemed stressed lately, which is actually because he wants your attention but he attempting to be a gentleman about it, not pushing you too far too fast.

But you knew what he wanted, what he needed. So, you have it to him.

You had patted the seat beside you and, of course, he was quick to sit with you.

He just wasn’t expecting you to silently wrap your arms around him, pulling him into an embrace.

Brahms isn’t going to pass up the opportunity though! He will instantly wrap his arms around you even tighter that yours were, making himself comfortable. 

Will bury his face into the crook of your neck or into your hair, unable to get too close to you. And don’t think you’re going anywhere anytime soon.

He always knew that he wanted/needed your affection, he just was aware of how much a simple hug would mean to him. You were the only person to accept him in so long, maybe you really would love him just like he needed.

Bo Sinclair

This man needs a proper hug (or any sort of affection) way more than he would ever let on, or even think he does.

When you first embrace him, arms wrapped securely around his waist, he faltered for a moment. 

He’d probably pat you on the back or something before trying to pull away or push you away, assuming you just wanted a hug.

But you didn’t let go. So, he’s sigh and wrap his arms around you, expecting that to satisfy you.

But you still don’t let go...

The longer you hold on to him, the less he can pretend that he’s annoyed with it, the less he can pretend like he isn’t enjoying this.

For a moment he actually lets his walls down, tightening his hold slightly and resting his chin on top of your head, making you smile to yourself.

He’ll even close his eyes and just let it happen. Unless one of his brothers comes into the room, then he’s pushing you away, clearing his throat and pretending none of that happened. But you know.

Vincent Sinclair

It’s been a long day. Bo was in a bad mood and taking it out on him. You could see the draining effect it had on Vincent and you knew exactly what he needed, some love.

So, once the two of you were alone and you knew that you wouldn’t be disturbed, at least for a little while, you wrapped your arms around Vincent and just met him in a hug.

Vincent returned the embrace despite his surprise, never being one to refuse you, especially when it came to affection.

He had expected a quick hug but you just stayed put, your embrace making him feel warm in the best kind of way.

He isn’t going to argue with it, resting his masked cheek against the top of your head. 

He’ll probably lose track of time, staying there like that for as long as you’d let him.

It’s like Bo had beat him down with his shouting and ranting, but you were building him right back up with your love and support.

Lester Sinclair

Lester had just returned home from visiting his brothers in town, and you know that he either had a pretty good time or it would have been pretty rough. They’re the usual two outcomes of his visits.

Apparently, this was a rough one. You could tell from the sigh he let out as he shut the door behind him.

You didn’t hesitate, walking up to him and wrapping your arms around him, quickly pulling him into a loving embrace.

He didn’t hesitate either, instantly wrapping his arms around you in return and burying his face in your hair.

He loves coming home to you but he loves this even more. You holding him like this, making him feel so welcome and loved, he would never get tired of this feeling.

After so long, will probably ask if the two of you could just cuddle on the couch for a while instead. Standing wasn’t very comfortable but he wasn’t ready to let go of you just yet.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba is never ever going to turn down one of your hugs. 

So when the two of you finally get some peace and quiet and you pull him into a loving embrace, he instantly lets out various happy babbles as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him.

He’ll happily stand there for as long as you let him, just holding you. But he would prefer to sit down with you, so I suggest guiding him over to the bed or a seat and then pulling him into a hug.

He just loves you so much and can’t get enough of your love.

Just something as simple as a hug makes Bubba melt, just the love and attention you are giving him. 

Making him feel so close to you, like you’re right there for each other because you are.

Billy Lenz

As soon as you guide him into a hug (guide, don’t pull), he will latch onto you and refuse to let you go.

God, when was the last time he had a hug? And he’s never had one this good!

It does make him a little emotional. You’re not letting go of him but he doesn’t feel trapped, he doesn’t want you to let him go. In your embrace he feels so supported, so accepted, so loved. He can’t get enough!

He didn’t think he needed this so much, he never thought that something as simple as a hug could make him feel so good.

He’ll nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, mumbling so quietly that you can’t understand what he’s saying. But, just know, that for once it’s not anything lewd.

An extended hug isn’t enough though. The two of you are probably going to end up cuddling on the couch or bed for a little while afterwards. 

Just hold him...please.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

You have to catch him by surprise and that is very difficult to do. Just when he isn’t expecting it.

Maybe he’s just come back from the hotel, expecting you to be asleep. 

But as he’s quietly undressing to join you in bed, you get up without him hearing and pad over to him.

You wrap your arms from him from behind. He’ll let out a small sigh, asking why you’re awake, but you just shrug and tell him you’re glad he’s home.

He’ll turn around and wrap his arms around you but is a little confused when you don’t pull away. At first he thinks you might be upset about something but that isn’t the case...whatever it is, he’s got nothing else to do. 

So he’ll hold you for a little while, slowly coming to terms with how nice this actually feels.

But you both need some sleep, so he’ll mumble something about going to bed. And if you don’t comply, he’ll just pick you up and carry you over to the bed anyway.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

He’s just come back from a ‘business trip’, he always comes back in a good mood from this sort of thing but he tired from travelling. 

You had greeted him at the door but saw it on him, he was tired.

So you just wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him, hadn’t even thought anything of it at the time.

The embrace was tight, a welcome home but also some reassurance that everything was alright and he was home now.

He wouldn’t turn down a hug, so he wrapped his arms around you, a hand holding the back of your head as if cradling you to his chest.

When you don’t pull away, neither does he. 

He loves what he does and if glad you accept him for it. But the travelling can be tiring and he does find himself missing you.

So he lets out a silent sigh before lifting you up into his arms, making you smile as he carries you up to the bedroom. It’s good to be home. He might have to start taking you with him.

Otis Driftwood

Get him when he’s tired. It’s the best chance you have for a hug to just stay a hug, and for him to accept it without fight or question.

When he’s tired and alone in his room, join him. Crawl up beside him, wrap your arms around him and just hug him. 

He’ll raise an eyebrow at you, confused and curious, but he’s not going to stop you.

When he’s tired like this, he’s more likely to let those softer, human, emotions show.

He’ll wrap an arm around you and hold you against him.

But the longer you just stay there, the more he relaxes and starts to make himself more comfortable. 

You make him relax, and he may never understand why.

Don’t comment on it when he lets out a sigh, wrapping his other arm around you as well as he shifts, nuzzling his face into your hair. Don’t comment on it, just smile and let it happen.

Baby Firefly

You’re pretty sure Baby never stops, almost constantly upbeat and full of energy.

So if you were to hug her, she would just eagerly hug you back, smiling widely before slipping from your grasp to drag you away somewhere.

Get her when she’s angry with another member of the family, when she’s pouting or ranting about them.

Just pull her into a loving embrace. She’ll continue to complain but will still return your hug.

She’ll slowly calm down and relax in your hold, her embrace becoming secure but soft, affectionate.

You have a good effect on her, she just can’t be mad when you’re around and she knows it.

She isn’t quick to break the embrace now, just holding you makes her feel better so that’s what she’s going to do.

Yautja (Predator) 

Probably the only one in this list who doesn’t need a hug in some way or another.

But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t enjoy it! He definitely does!

At first he’s a little taken back when you wrap your arms around him, head resting against his torso.

But he certainly isn’t opposed to this.

He’ll return your embrace, even starting to purr, which is always a good sign. He’ll probably start to stroke your hair as well.

Now that he’s gotten a taste of the affection that humans likes to give ad receive, he doesn’t think he could ever go back to how things used to be for him.

What would he do without all your little kisses, your hugs, your gentle touches. He couldn’t be without them now!

[forever-rogue]

A Bucky request for you queen: Reader takes Bucky to meet her family for the first time, and he’s already nervous, but he’s even more nervous when you ask if he wants to hold your sisters new baby bc he doesn’t wanna hurt the baby and he thinks he’s still damaged.

But eventually you convince him to hold the baby and then he sees how good you are and he thinks about having a family for the first time and things can either get fluffy or smutty, whatever u r feelin

Have a great day love!🤍

A/N: enjoy some soft fluff! 🥺

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: none

PART 2

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Bucky?” you stared at your reflection, putting your earrings in to complete the final outfit touch. You were getting ready to head over to your sister’s house in order to see her, her husband, and their newborn baby for the first time. You were excited to go, beyond ready to see her again and meet the newest addition to your family. Meanwhile Bucky was going through a series of emotions as he tried to ground himself and settle his nerves. He’d been reluctant to agree to go, not because he wasn’t happy to come, but more so because of the bundle of nerves that had welled up at the prospect of meeting a tiny, brand new life. As soon as he’d seen how your face light up in excitement at the prospect of going over, he couldn’t say no when you invited him to come with you. Then again, Bucky could never say no to you, “are you ready to go, my love?”

“I’m ready,” he agreed quickly as he stepped out of your shared bedroom, clearing his throat as he pulled on his leather jacket. You turned, flashing him a dazzling smile that still made him weak in the knees, when you noticed a worried expression on his face. You flounced over, hands going to his shoulders as you offered him a reassuring squeeze. You gazed into his eyes, trying to gauge what was going on in his mind when he let out a small huff. He knew you could read him like a book, “alright. I-I’m nervous about meeting...the baby.”

“James,” you reached up and rested your hand on his cheek, relaxing as he lightly keened into your touch. His hands found purchase on your waist as you leaned into him, brushing your lips against his, “you have nothing to be worried about. She’s just a baby, she’s got no right to judge and she won’t. She’ll see Uncle Bucky and fall right in love. Talk to me, love, tell me what’s going on.”

“You’re going to laugh,” he turned his gaze away, but you reached up and put your hand under his chin and shifted his gaze back to you, “it’s stupid.”

“I’m not going to laugh,” you insisted quietly, “you could tell me anything and it wouldn’t be stupid.”

“I just worry,” he sighed after a few beats of silence passed between the two of you, “what if...what if he’s still in there? Some small part of him and he...snaps. Or something. She’s going to be so small and all it would take it one little-”

“Bucky,” you reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly in your own before lacing your fingers together, “you are not him anymore - he is not you. He never was. You are James Buchanan Barnes and no one else. He is not a part of you anymore at all. You are free of all of that. You are good, you are. I know sometimes it’s harder to believe than others, but it is true.”

“I know,” he closed his eyes for a few moments, lashes fluttering against soft skin as a small sigh passed his lips. He squeezed your hand back before resting his head on your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his waist, “it’s just...I don’t want to have a moment of...weakness.”

“You won’t,” you insisted softly, “maybe right now you don’t need to believe in yourself, but can you believe in me?”

“Always,” you could feel him smiling lightly against your warm skin as he nodded.

“Good,” you pressed a kiss to the side of his head, “now, trust me because I trust you in you. Now, let’s go, otherwise we’ll be late and then then everyone will be mad.”

“Everyone’s going to be there?”

“Just my parents, my brother, my sister and her husband and the baby of course,” you stepped back and looked him over before leaning in and kissing him quickly, “they know you, Bucky. The real you and they love you. There’s nothing to fear. Might I also add that you look very handsome today. You’ll knock ‘em dead.”

“You look beautiful,” you just happened to be wearing one of the dresses he loved most on you. He’d never commented on it, but you’d seen the way his blue eyes had lit up when you’d first worn it. You figured it would be something to help ease his nerves, almost to ground him as you had a suspicion that he might be nervous. He’d gotten much more comfortable around your family over the last year, but you knew that his general anxiety and fears sometimes bubbled up, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you promised as you held your hand out towards him. He strode over slowly before taking your hand in his and inhaling and exhaling deeply. He could do this - you knew he could and he knew he could too. Your support had meant everything to him and have him that little push he needed to get over the lingering bit of insecurity he had.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“She’s so small,” you said softly as you held the small baby in your arms. She was sleeping soundly, her little lips forming a perfect pout as you rocked her gently, “she’s beautiful.”

“She better be,” your sister joked, “nine months and then 30 hours of labor - she better be beautiful!”

“You’re the worst,” your eyes widened in surprise before you giggled quietly, “how’s she been?”

“Aurora’s been so good,” she said and you traced over her chubby little cheeks, “lots of long days and nights and more dirty diapers than I care to admit, but she’s worth it. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“I can see why,” she was so small and tiny, a new life that had so much ahead of her. The idea made your heart melt, “it must all be terribly scary and exciting.”

“It is,” she agreed as she nudged your knee with hers, “what about you and Bucky? Ever think about starting a family of your own? You guys have been together for a while and it’s something to think about…”

“We’ve...vaguely discussed it,” you confessed, looking up just in time to spy Bucky casting a quick look at you. He was mid-conversation with your father and brother but shot you a soft smile before turning back to the conversation. Your breath caught in your throat as a warmth settled in your belly, setting off a course of butterflies. What you hadn’t seen was all of the other gentle, tender glances he’d been throwing your way since you’d gotten there. You sister cleared her throat before drawing your attention back in, “but umm...it’s never really gotten that far. I dunno what’s going to happen, but I like to think maybe one day we’ll get married. I don’t see a future with anyone else.”

“You really love him, don’t you?” she asked softly as you nodded, feeling a warmth creep up into your cheeks as you avoided looking at her face.

“I do,” you bit your lip as you stared at the small baby that had started cooing softly. Her eyes slowly opened as she nodded before looking around and smiling. She waved her chubby little arm around before reaching for your finger and curling her fist around it. You beamed at her before pressing a kiss to her forehead, “just like you already.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Bucky?” your voice was soft as you walked outside to the backyard where he was standing and watching the sun slowly setting and painting the sky in brilliant pinks and purples. He hesitated for the slightest of moments before turning to you with a half smile on his features.You were holding Aurora in your arms, and she was already back to being half asleep. His nerves shot up but he quickly calmed down when he realized how tranquil the portrait painted in front of him was. You made it all seem so easy and effortless - it was new and foreign to you too, but you were handling it so well. Maybe he could as well, “would you like to meet your niece? To hold her?”

“I don’t...I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said softly as you both took a few steps towards each other. You offered him a hopeful little smile as the baby opened her eyes and turned to look at Bucky. He met her eyes and she babbled excitedly at him. Suddenly, something within snapped as his whole demeanor shifted and his expression softened as he took in a shuddering breath. He could do this, he realized, he could do this.

“Bucky?” this was more hopeful and optimistic as he came towards you and cautiously held his arms open to you. He only nodded as you looked at him to make sure it was okay. Shifting the tiny human from your arms to his, you watched as Bucky took to water like a duck to water as he made sure she was secure in his grip. It was a sight to behold and you felt your heart beat wildly.

“She’s so...new,” was all he could get out as you laughed at him. He almost couldn’t take his eyes off her as you gave his shoulder a squeeze, “so tiny.”

“That’s kind of what a baby is,” you joked as you stuck your tongue out at him and he jokingly scoffed, “see, it’s all easy squeezy lemon peasy.”

“It’s not as hard as I thought,” he confessed after a few moments, “it feels…”

“Yeah,” you pressed a kiss to the side of his head as you finished for him after a few beats of peaceful silence, “I know.”

“Do you think I could have a few moments alone?” he asked as you nodded, standing back and admiring the sight of your boyfriend holding your niece. It struck up something within you and while you weren’t quite sure what it was, you couldn’t help but revel in it.

“I’ll be inside,” you promised, “dinner will be ready soon.If you need anything, just say the word and I’ll be right there.”

“I know,” he grinned, “I know.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Bucky watched you walk back inside and close the screen door, holding a hand up as he lightly waved back at you. A wary sigh escaped his lips as the baby watched him with nothing but curiosity in her eyes. He’d held babies before, in another life, one which was stolen from him but had led him here. But he wasn’t angry about that anymore; he’d spent many years in anger about it and he was past that. He knew, one of the things that had helped him out of that anger and hatred was you. If his cards had been played any differently, you wouldn’t have been a part of his, and you had slowly but definitely become one of the best parts of his life.

It felt so foreign but so right in that moment as he stared at the small life in his arms. He’d never really pictured himself with a family of his own, once in his old life he might have, but he hadn’t in a long time. With you, something had trickled in, slowly blooming over time to become stronger and stronger. And after seeing you with the baby, there was something in him that had come full circle. And as he looked at her little face, he couldn’t help but wonder what your own child would like. Would they have his eyes? His dark shock of hair? Or would they take after you? Either way, he knew whatever child the two of you might have would be beautiful.

“Hi Aurora,” he whispered to her as he allowed him to touch her cheek, finding the faith and trust deep within himself, “you’re still so new to this world. You don’t know about all the horrors and scary parts yet. But there are so many good things too, lots of beautiful things. I will do my best to protect you from all the bad parts, I promise. Whatever you need, I will be there.”

She smiled at him, a toothless, gummy thing as he beamed at her. Maybe...maybe one day this could be a reality for the two of you as well. Bucky let himself relax as it felt like a weight lifted off of his shoulders at the realization that he was okay. That nothing had happened and nothing would happen. He was okay...he was okay. He closed his eyes for a moment as he remembered how you looked holding her earlier. The sight had sparked something within him too; it was a sight he had thoroughly enjoyed seeing. For the first time in a long time, he had allowed himself to think that maybe he could have this too, that he could have a family and happiness of his own.

A sigh, this one contented and happy, escaped his lips as he cradled Aurora against his chest and watched the sun disappear behind the horizon, “I think maybe one day I could be a dad. I think..I think I’d like that. Especially after today...I feel like it could be an actual possibility. I was nervous about today - meeting you. I know it sounds silly, especially since you’re just...a baby. I wasn’t sure if I could...trust myself - it’s still hard sometimes. Not often but there are times. You helped me to see that maybe it’s not so hard after all. Whatever it is, I-I’m willing to try. Especially with your Aunt. You’re going to love her, you know. I do.I really, really do. I think she’s everything.”

“Bucky?” you poked your head out the door and beamed, “dinner’s ready!”

“Coming,” he slowly made his way back over to you. Opening the door wider, you ushered him inside, a hand going to the small of his back as he handed Aurora back over to your sister. He returned to your side, an arm snaking around your waist as he kissed the top of your head, “hi.”

“Hello my love,” you grinned back at him, “how’d it go? She seemed to like you...you seemed to like her…”

“I did,” he agreed, “we had a good talk. Well, I did most of the talking, but she’s a good listener.”

“Hmm,” you snorted in laughter, “you’re something else, Barnes.You’re lucky I love you so much.”

“I love you, sweetheart,” he leaned in so he could whisper in your ear, “maybe later we could talk. There’s some...things that have been on my mind for some time.”

“Bucky?” you gave him a confused look but he cut you off with a soft kiss to your lips, “everything alright?”

“Yes,” he promised gently, “everything is perfect.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[nctsjiho]

Your Fault

warnings: strong language, consumption of alchol, mention of death without actual death, very much angst

era: July 7th 2021

❀ NCT 127's 5th anniversary isn't a day to celebrate and be happy for everyone

To Doyoung:

“Happy 5th anniversary oppa!”

“I hope you and the boys are having a great time <3”

JiHo stared at her phone intently waiting for the “sent” at the bottom of her screen to turn into “read”. She had been staring at her phone like that for nearly an hour, yet nothing changed. The girl knew that the boys were busy, but somewhere she hoped that she’d hear from them. Besides the short “wished you could be with us” message she had received the evening before from Taeyong she hadn’t heard from anyone else. Of course JiHo was aware that the boys were busy, but was it a crime to feel left out and maybe want a phone call or something more than a “wished you could be with us” from anyone?

And so JiHo continued to stare at her phone, everything on the small screen getting progressively more blurry as time went on. Her eyes were straining, one almost pressed shut, the other slowly going cross-side. Her right hand, which wasn’t holding the phone, reached out to the glass bottle on her desk. A quick shake letting her know it was empty. So she reached for the other one, opening it skilfully with one hand – like she did with the other two bottles now empty on her desk – and bringing it up to her lips. “Must be nice hm~ Being an idol or whatever…”

“I’m glad you came over.” Sihyun, JiHo’s Esteem manager that lives with her, said as she grabbed the boy’s coat off his shoulders. The piece of clothing, along with his hair, slightly damp caused by the light drizzle outside. “JiHo’s been a bit sensitive and doesn’t let me in her room. She doesn’t want to talk to me at all.” Jaemin watched the woman’s face full of worry. He gave her a small reassuring smile and then glanced at the door leading to JiHo’s room. “I’ll try to talk to her.” Thanking Jaemin, Sihyun then excused herself, telling him she had to run some late night errands.

Not knowing what was happening behind the closed door of the bedroom, Jaemin knocked a few times. “Unnie~ Just leave me- leave me alone.” JiHo hiccupped between her words, her speech sounding a bit slurred. She had been drinking? JiHo?

Without a second thought Jaemin pushed the door open. A jumbled mess of protests escaped JiHo’s lips, but she froze in her chair as soon as her eyes locked with Jaemin. “What… are you doing here?” She muttered to the best of her abilities. “Coming to check up on you.” He neared the girl and poked at the bottles and the mess on her desk. “Clearly you need it.” His tone sounded very much disappointed and for a split second JiHo felt her heart ache, but she quickly turned defensive. “I do not!”

A sigh escaped deep from Jaemin’s chest and he pulled JiHo to sit on the edge of her bed next to him. “Since when do you drink?” It was quiet for a bit. JiHo looked at the bottle of the alcoholic beverage in her hand, swirling it around by circling her wrist and then started to giggle to herself. “A new hobby?” She turned to Jaemin, a big smile on her lips – however Jaemin could see the sadness behind it easily. “It’s fun. Feeling… Nothing! I can barely feel my… my lips.” Her body swayed from side to side prompting Jaemin to grab her by her shoulders and hold her in place. “It’s fun until you wake up with a hangover tomorrow.” He scoffed. “Can’t get a hangover if I don’t sleep.” She said, before turning to her desk. She then pointed at the box of another 9 bottles of alcohol next to it on the floor. “Or if I don’t stop drinking.” She grinned.

“Yah! What’s wrong with you?” Jaemin’s patience ran dry quickly. He just felt so furious seeing how badly JiHo was treating her own body. She never drank and now she was planning to drink 12 bottles of alcohol? Drinking herself straight into the hospital, and if it weren’t for Jaemin being here, maybe straight into her own grave. “This is strong alcohol! For all I know you can’t even handle it, so what made you decide to drink now huh?” He yelled, anger only rising watching the girl just stare at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Those same eyes turned to look at her laptop, located on the desk she sat at earlier. The NCT 127 online fanmeeting being streamed, muted.

Of course Jaemin knew it was NCT 127’s 5th anniversary, he knew it must’ve affected JiHo in some way, even if she kept insisting she was going to be fine and was happy for the boys. She even said that she wasn’t “part of the group since debut, so it wouldn’t even be my 5th anniversary” and everyone just had to nod and smile.

“Is that a reason to potentially drink yourself to death?” Jaemin poked her side – maybe a bit too harsh – to gain her attention again; she seemed to be zoning out every few seconds. “What else was I supposed to do? I’m tired of keeping things in.” She sneered at him and it was almost as if she didn’t drink anything. She sounded much more coherent than just a minute earlier. “Aren’t you doing just that though? Drinking on your own. Not letting Sihyun noona in? We keep telling you to talk to us, yet all you do is keep things in. The hyungs even took you out to do stuff and get your mind off things yet you get home and do the thing you always do.”

JiHo felt every drop of alcohol leave her system as she heard the somewhat condescending tone in her friend’s voice. “What the fuck? So this is my fault-“ “Kinda, yes! You just sit here feeling sorry for yourself while everyone is worried over you! We’re your friends for a reason JiHo. There are so many people who care for you, just start fucking talking when you feel down like this.”

The blood inside of JiHo’s veins started to boil and at the same time she felt tears pricking behind her eyes. “You think it’s that easy? What am I supposed to say? That I feel upset that I can’t be with 127 now? Okay. Then what about it? Me telling you this won’t change shit!” “At least you should stop lying and stop telling everyone you’re fine when you’re not! Why do you continue keeping things a secret from everyone?” Both JiHo and Jaemin’s chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. “But I guess you’re good at that anyway.” He added in a mumble.

Once the words registered in JiHo’s mind, the bottle that started to hover towards her lips was quickly forgotten. “What do you mean by that?” Jaemin just shrugged his shoulders and turned his gaze away from JiHo. “Jaemin? What do-“ “You were supposed to debut in 2016 with NCT U?” JiHo’s eyes widened and she pushed herself to stand up. “How’d you know-“ “Then they asked you to debut in 127? Also with us… In Dream?” “How do you know?” Was the only thing JiHo could say.

“Does it matter?” Jaemin yelled, standing up as well. “Why do you continue to keep secrets from us? Do you not trust us? Is that why you sit here alone? Drinking and crying alone.” The boy watched as JiHo stood in front of him wordlessly. He could see how his words were affecting her, but he wanted to be selfish for once. He wanted to let JiHo know how frustrating things were for him and his friends. He was well aware of how JiHo had her own worries and hardships, but if she never wanted to confide in anyone, then he was allowed to be mad right?

The only sound filling the room was both of their ragged breathing and the occasional shift from one foot to the other. The silence was almost deafening, a ringing shooting up JiHo’s clouded mind making her feel like she was going to lose it any second now. Her friend sending hurtful glares her way didn’t help ease the growing pain either.

“You’re right. I could’ve debuted in 2016, what about it?” JiHo whispered, afraid that her talking too loud would send surges of pain into her brain. “Why did you hide it from us? Why didn’t you say yes back then?” Jaemin interrogated her. “There was no reason to tell you if it didn’t happen. I didn’t debut so telling you I could’ve wouldn’t change a thing. I’m not in Dream, I didn’t debut in U and clearly now, I’m not in 127 either. Jaemin… It doesn’t matter anymore…” JiHo’s voice stayed as calm as possible.

“How long have you known Jaemin?” JiHo spoke up again as Jaemin didn’t say anything. She felt the tension grow exponentially, the pressure on her body and more noticeably her head increasing and bothering her more as well. “I heard it during that last meeting you had with Yebin noona and Mister Lee Soo Man…” JiHo let out a small chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. “I guess we’re eavesdropping and keeping secrets from me as well.”

She brought the glass bottle still in her hands to her lips, throwing her head back, to down as much of the liquid as possible. Before she could finish it all in one go, Jaemin gripped the bottle and pulled it away from her. “It’s not the same, JiHo!”

The liquid rushed from between JiHo’s lips, making a wet patch on her grey sweatpants. She could feel her throat and lungs burning as she coughed, caused by the alcohol going down her windpipe instead.

Jaemin watched her with concern painting his features, his hand slowly caressing her back hoping it would ease her violent coughs. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” He whispered and JiHo gave him a small nod as her body calmed down.

The two 00 liners stayed like that for a while, with Jaemin’s eyes burning at the back of JiHo’s downturned head. Even after JiHo’s body stopped shaking violently, Jaemin’s concern continued to grow. It was only when he noticed the drops, which only could be tears, fall onto her sweatpants and create even more wet spots, that he decided to step in.

Jaemin’s hand securely gripped JiHo’s shoulder and he pulled her up to face him. A gasp left the boy’s mouth as he watched large tears spill from his friend’s eyes. “Ji…” It proved incredibly difficult to speak when he was faced with a situation he wasn’t ready to deal with. Maybe Jaemin shouldn’t have confronted her the way he did. Maybe acting like everything was fine wouldn’t have caused him to witness JiHo at possibly the worst she has felt.

It became a full minute of Jaemin staring into JiHo’s pain- and tear-filled eyes, feeling like he could drown in them himself, before a loud pained sob brought him to reality. The sudden jolt of JiHo’s body forward made Jaemin act quickly and pulled the girl into his chest. His hand, just as quickly, found its way into JiHo’s slightly tangled hair.

“I’m… sor- so sorry.” JiHo sobbed into his chest, tears soaking through even the thicker material of the boy’s jumper. Jaemin could feel his sweater start to stick against his chest, yet what felt more uncomfortable than the damp piece of clothing was the feeling of JiHo’s body shaking in his hold.

As best as he could, Jaemin tried to soothe JiHo. Almost like taking care of a crying toddler, he swayed the girl from side to side. His lips were pressed against the shell of JiHo’s ear as Jaemin whispered affirmations into her skin. “Don’t apologise... Stop apologising.”

“I’m only bringing the team down-” “Shh JiHo. Stop that.” He told her, as his fingers continued to comb through her hair, slowly and carefully detangling it along the way. JiHo pressed her eyes tighter as even more tears spilled from her cheeks and pushed herself closer into Jaemin’s grasp.

Mouth agape, a sob that was building up in his own chest was threatening to fall from Jaemin’s own lips. “You don’t deserve any of this JiHo, you only deserve the best.” JiHo only shook her head, but didn’t dare to speak again. “You do... You really do.”

The night in the capital of South-Korea was never really that dark. Lights always seemed to find their way past the pulled back blinds of any building that wasn’t directly blocked by another one due to bad city planning. So even during the darkest time of day, even when all the lights inside have been dimmed, somehow, it was still light enough to see inside.

So when Jaemin pulled back to look at JiHo’s face, her eyes still tightly pressed shut - which pained him immensely - Jaemin could see the light reflecting off of her wet cheeks.

Feeling two hands being placed on her burning cheeks, JiHo finally decided to open her eyes again. A few more tears rolled over her cheeks onto Jaemin’s thumbs, but luckily no new ones seemed to form. “I’m sorry for everything, all this drama. It’s my fault.” Jaemin shook his head and pulled the girl back, this time to hide his own tears that were starting to form. “Please stop apologising, it’s not your fault.”

“But-” JiHo sighed, her arms found their way around Jaemin’s small waist. “I hate that it’s always about me. I don’t want to be this cliche ‘emotional girl with so many problems and everyone has to pay attention to her problems’. I don’t want that. I don’t want to burden you guys with that, but I also don’t want that kind of attention. I know people already hate me for being in a boy’s group. I don’t want my stupid problems to be the only thing that people assiociate me with NCT.”

“Your problems are not stupid JiHo. And though I understand what you’re saying, I think it’s worse to keep it in. If anything, keeping it in just makes us worry about you more and may get you more attention. JiHo I know things suck right now, and I can’t imagine how you’re feeling with everything going on right now, but… Please just talk to us when things are bothering you. We all love you.”

At those last words JiHo loudly sniffled back some stray tears. She pressed herself into Jaemin’s warm embrace and softly nodded her head. “From now on I will. I promise. And…” JiHo looked up at Jaemin, sending him a small smile that he gratefully reciprocated. “I love you guys too. You’re all I have here and that’s enough to make me stay.”

Jaemin’s hand resumed with his previous ministrations. A deep sigh left his lips as he rested his head atop of JiHo’s. “Everything will be just fine.” Jaemin pressed a kiss against JiHo’s hair. “As long as we stay together everything will be just fine.”

[choking-on-tae]

ATEEZ Reaction to: Braiding your hair

Anon asked: could you do a reaction to ateez braiding your hair? could be like aftercare fluff or smut before they fuck u (reminds me of that scene from 50 shades lol)

A/N: I decided to make this fluff because this I haven't written some fluff in a while. Or is it smut? idk I went for fluffy with some members and a bit more steamy with others, oops. Anyways I hope you'll like this and as usual gifs aren't mine and credits to the rightful owners! x

Seonghwa

Seonghwa bites down on his bottom lip as he focuses on the task at hand, braiding your hair. You've shown him a video of what you want and Seonghwa being Seonghwa, he felt confident he could pull it off. He didn't expect it to be so hard. He tries his best to make the braid perfect and in the process accidentally pulls a little harder than intended on your hair.

You let out a gasp as your eyes grow wide. Seonghwa does the same before a smirk spreads across his lips when an idea pops into his head. He pulls a little harder until your back is pressed against his chest. Seonghwa leans down to whisper in your ear, "I think you like that, don't you baby girl? You like it when I pull your hair?"

You're about to deny it when he does it again, this time catching you of guard again, making you let an even louder whine this time.

Seonghwa chuckles as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses against it as his hands gently caress your body. Slowly working you up.

"Well, maybe I should pull your hair more often princess. I bet you'd like it when I get a little rough."

Hongjoong

As soon as you brought up the idea Hongjoong couldn't contain his excitement. He really likes braids as has always thought they were beautiful, so when you asked him to braid your hair he was behind you in an instant, making you giggle. He kneels down behind you on the couch as he gently takes a few strands of hair. Hongjoong tries his best to make the perfect braid, but let's be honest here braiding can be fucking difficult.

Hongjoong huffs in frustration as he undoes the braid to try again, making you giggle. You've always liked it when people play with your hair and knowing that your boyfriend is doing it, it only makes you feel more loved.

"Okay, can you show me the video again? I'm kind of stuck here."

You chuckle at his words as you take out your phone, going back to the video and holding it up so he can watch it while braiding your hair.

Hongjoong smiles softly as he leans in to press a soft kiss against your cheek. "Thank you baby, I'll try my best to make it look perfect."

Yunho

Yunho was an over excited puppy when you told him about it. "Of course I'll do it! It always looks so pretty!" You giggle at his excitement as he turns you so he can braid your hair properly. What started of excited and innocent soon turns into more when you hear Yunho groan softly behind you. You know it's just because he's frustrated because it's not as easy as he thought, but your body still reacts to it.

You shift a little to try to get more comfortable, which causes Yunho to accidentally pull on your hair a bit to get you to sit still. He's about to scold you for moving so much when he hears a soft whimper leaving your mouth.

His lips curl into a smirk as he moves quickly so he's now in front of you. You your face to look away but Yunho is having none of it. He takes your chin in between his index finger and his thump, turning your face around so you're facing him again.

"What was that now, baby girl? You like it when I pull your hair?"

You nod softly as you feel your cheeks heat up. Yunho smirks as he pushes you gently until your back hit the covers. He places his hands on either hide of your head, successfully caging you in as he hovers over you. That same smug smirk prominent on his face as he stares down at you.

"Maybe I should make use of that. Would you like that baby?"

Yeosang

"Baby, will you braid my hair for me?"

Yeosang puts his book down as he nods softly. "Yeah, I can give it a try." You move so you're sitting in between his legs as you brush your hair off of your shoulders. Yeosang gently takes your hair in his hands as he starts to practice some braids. You've asked him before and to be honest he was quite good at it, hence why you asked him again.

You relax at the feeling of his fingers combing through your hair as Yeosang braids your hair softly. Humming a song while doing so. You giggle softly as you listen to him hum a song you haven't heard in a while, but one that still is your favorite.

Once he's done he ties it with an elastic and pulls you against his chest, pressing a kiss against your temple as he wraps his arms around you.

"There you go princess. I hope you'll like it."

San

Having had his hair braided himself, San knows how nice it is to have someone run their fingers through your hair. So when you asked him to braid your hair he was all up for it. "Okay, what do you want me to do?" He asks, a bright smile plastered on his face as he eyes you curiously.

"Uhm.. I thought about this one." You say as you show him a photo of what you want. San nods excitedly as he motions for you to turn around, which you do.

San gently takes your hair in his hands as he starts to braid it. Trying his best to make it look as much as the photo as possible. San bites down on his bottom lip in concentration as he folds one strand over another.

"You're quite good at this, San." You hum, playing with your fingers as you feel San's fingers comb through your hair.

"Thank you baby. I think I'm done actually."

You jump in excitement as you run to the nearest mirror to admire his work. San giggles as he follows closely behind you. You look in the bathroom mirror as your jaw drops when you see the beautiful braids.

Your boyfriend smiles brightly as he wraps his arms around you, hugging you from behind as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

"It's beautiful San. Thank you so much. You really are the best."

Mingi

Mingi was slightly nervous when you first asked him, because let's be honest. Baby boy is a bit clumsy. He would be so scared of accidentally hurting you in the process. You noticed his hesitantion and couldn't help but giggle.

"Mingi, it's okay. Don't worry you won't hurt me."

Feeling a little more assured by your words, Mingi tries his best to braid your hair. You close your eyes as you talk to Mingi about your day. Mingi listens to you, but doesn't say much back because he's focusing on braiding your hair. You giggle when you notice he doesn't respond much and turn around once you feel him putting an elastic in your hair to secure the braid.

You climb in his lap as you wrap your arms around his neck. You lean in closer to press your lips against his. Mingi places his hand on your cheek as he pulls you closer, kissing you softly.

"Maybe I should braid your hair more often, if it means you'll kiss me like this.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung smirks at soon as you ask him, which makes you raise your eyebrows. "Why are you smirking like that?" He chuckles as he shakes his head. "Nothing, please turn around for me baby."

You does as he asks and turn around. Wooyoung's fingers comb through your hair as he pulls it back a little. He pretends to braid your hair while in reality he has other plans in mind. Wooyoung takes one of the strands and pulls on it a little harder, making you whine in response. You quickly cover your mouth with your hand as you feel your cheeks heating up.

Wooyoung smirks at your reaction as he nuzzles his nose against your neck, occasionally pressing a kiss against it as his hands leave your hair and wrap around your waist instead.

He softly caresses your skin as he pulls you closer to him until his body is pressed against yours. "I think I just discovered one of your little kinks, didn't I baby girl?"

Your eyes grow wide at his words as you snap your head around to look at him. "W-What?"

Wooyoung smirks as he pushes you down, climbing on top of you and pinning your hands next to your head. Leaning down till his lips brush against yours.

"Oh you heard me. If I had known this sooner I would have done this a long time ago."

Jongho

Jongho would be a little clueless in the beginning. Yes he's seen his fair share of braids but he has never actually braided hair before. Of course he's not one to back down from a challenge, so he agrees. As soon as he takes your hair in his hands his mind goes black. He lets out an awkward chuckle as he shakes his head softly.

"Can you show me the video again, I don't even know where to start."

You giggle softly at his words as you show him the video again, playing it at a slower speed so he can follow along. Jongho follows the instructions and soon he sees a beautiful braid appear on your head.

"I think I'm actually doing it!" He says, smiling brightly as he takes the elastic from your hand and secures the braid.

"Wow, that's actually really pretty." He smiles, turning you around so he can look at you properly.

Your smile is equally as bright as you lean in to give him a soft kiss.

"Thank you Jongho, I really appreciate it."

[yoshkeii]

"𝚂𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎."

࿐ character(s): Kuroo Tetsurou, Daichi Sawamura, Suna Rintarou

࿐ genre: sfw, soft/fluff

࿐ type: headcanons (hcs)

࿐ requested by: N/A

⌦  male!reader (he/him)

⌦ ‘some tiny and cute things i think the boys do that i find very intimate’n’sweet.’

A/N: more self-indulgent things bc i can <3.

𝙺𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚘:

❀ i can find this man to be very affectionate and even clingy when it comes to you, even if you are out in public, but he’s not too clingy in public but definitely behind walls and in a comfortable space. 

❀ he loves, loves to kiss, no matter if its receiving or giving- the kisses can last a quick second or a long moment, there really is no inbetween. 

❀ quick kisses often consist of him softly kissing your forehead, cheek, all-over your face, lips, and even hands.

❀ whenever you both cuddle and are comfortable, he sometimes will grab your hands and kiss your palm, even knuckles as his amber eyes look up at you from his position. a sly but dorky smile creeping on his face.

❀ removing your hands from his grasp you hide your face with your hands, completely flustered and caught off guard. the chuckle of Tetsurou's laugh leaving his lips before he peppers your hands with kisses, eventually removing your hands and peppering your face. earning soft giggles and laughs between you both.

❀ after long, exhausting days of work he loves to come home to you. of course he does, he looks forward to the cuddles and nice ‘welcome home’ greeting him at the door as you softly peck his cheek. his face flushing up lightly.

❀ but besides the most soft quick kisses, the long passionate ones are far different. 

❀ tiring days are when he’s most desperate, yearning affection from his boyfriend who’s already at home. as soon as his eyes sees you once he enters the shared home, he rushes over towards your figure. always hugging from behind before making you face him, smashing his lips on yours. 

❀ it was affectionate and rushed before it gradually eased down into softer movements, as it does you can feel the soft smile he makes during the kiss. he really missed you.

❀ im sorry- that these are just him kissing you- but he would never slip up the chance to kiss your handsome, beautiful, cute face. istg. he wont.

❀ this man will chase after your lips once you pull away too-

❀ anyways- its not just him kissing you all the time,, mostly. but he will hug you from behind. quite often! its a common thing in public actually...

❀ i kinda see him as the type to watch you from the doorway as you obliviously do something. not noticing the bed-head male in your peripheral vision.

❀ this often opens a chance for him to sneak a hug from behind and/or a kiss on your head. easily making you startled and maybe- screaming- if possible.

❀ hearing his dumbass laugh as his grip tightened around your torso, staying there watching you slowly continue your work. knowing you’re- maybe- a little angry at him from the scare, but he definitely know you’ll warm up quickly. you always do.

𝙳𝚊𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒:

❀ i really need to write more this man, bc oh i so so so adore his ass so much. he gives off such a comfy and safe vibe to me i’d give my life to him. 

❀ I- aNYwAYS- 

❀ he would hug you a lot. so much. and it feels for secured n safe, its a haven in between his arms. even comfortable too from the warmth he radiates, cuddles with him doesn’t often need too much blankets knowing Sawamura can be a heater by himself.

❀ man just gives the biggest, warmest hugs.

❀ he doesn’t mind hugging you, holding a hand, or linking arms to make you feel his warmth when cold. he actually likes it but won’t bluntly say it unless he wants to tease you.

❀ and oh yeah, he keeps the things like those to himself until he uses it as a teasing weapon. smiling to himself as he stares at your flustered expression that stared back at him, your eyes averting and face quickly hidden in embarrassment.

❀ kisses aren’t too common unlike Tetsurou, but he will do them behind walls. just soft pecks on your face whenever he feels affection and giddy or really whenever he misses you- 

❀ cuddles with him are sometimes giggly! just relaxing against each other as you both talk about silly things and hectic things that happened in your day or past, laughing at each others stories. 

❀ hearing one another’s hearty genuine laughs never fails to awestruck the other in the heart, but it easily plays off from the unwavering laughter you both have. only to cuddle into each others body once more.

❀ seeing him win any games with his team, and he sees your figure rushing off towards him. Sawamura will not hesitate to lift you up as he hugs you, feeling your feet above the flat surface you slightly panic but peering down at your boyfriend’s face instantly removes the anxious feeling at the genuine happy expression he has. 

❀ sometimes he’ll twirl you around in his arms lightly before settling you back down with a nervous laugh, embarrassed he just- did that- but he brushes it off really quickly unless his teammates nag him about it. 

❀ honestly the man to encourage his s/o whenever they are down, using words or even reassuring actions somehow boosts the mood (or at least eases the tension down.)

𝚂𝚞𝚗𝚊:

❀ kinda- kinda see him as a cuddle bug. i genuinely do.

❀ he would never refuse a cuddle-session that includes you in it,, and will d r o p everything he’s doing just to cuddle with you, seriously. he’ll use it as a excuse to avoid doing work sometimes- but you’ll scold him about it later.

❀ big spoon him and he’ll love it, every moment of it. he feels nice and comfy in this position often.

❀ whenever cuddling he will give you little pats and messes with your hair if you let him, and the occasion soft pecks on your face. usually your cheek, nose, or forehead.

❀ sometimes will squish your face with his hands, he often doesn’t do so because of how calloused and rough his hands can be because of practice and being a middleblocker. so he’s conscious about it with you, but the reassurance you give relieves him.

❀ during cuddle sessions, Rintarou would definitely show you things on his phone he’d think you like. knowing your interests rather well from listening and remembering conversations you’ve had.

❀ speaking of him remembering things, he keeps mental notes on passionate subjects or things you like. and sometimes will surprise you about it with an accumulated gift or item.

❀ Rintarou is really supportive of whatever you are passionate about or into, will literally slander who discourages or fucks with you. and he won’t hesistate, you are his king, prince, emperor- his everything. he’s not gonna hold back on that poor person who makes you feel bad.

❀ whenever he sees you cry, he’s the type to instinctively wipe away the tears. his thumb brushing your cheek and below your eyes as the tears flow, watching you let it out before embracing you into a hug. muttering soft reassurances and patting your back before you ease down.

❀ and thats when he cues his dumb jokes and sayings to you, using it to hear that soft laugh erupting from your chest.

❀ during games his eyes would drift towards the crowd just to find you. Kita and/or ‘Tsumu would bark at him about it, wanting to get his attention during the game-

❀ he’d share videos everytime the miya twins do stupid shit and have crazy antics, whether that’s sending you a video or a photo with a dumbass caption. hoping to make you laugh from it on the other screen.

[kj-1130]

Nothing For Me

Part 7

Main Masterlist

Part 6|Part 8

     You and MJ’s relationship continued to grow as time went on. 

     As she started her first year of high school, you worked on yourself, wanting to be good for her.

     Overtime, you learned how to process and deal with things better. You focused on yourself and your developing relationship with MJ and needless to say, things started to look up. 

     The ‘present but not really present father’ thing didn’t affect you as much as it did, but it was still there. It was one of the only things you hadn’t fully processed and to be honest, you didn’t think you ever could. 

     Your father is there, and has been aware of presence for almost a decade. And not once has he given you any type of consolation or love like a father should. You would think after Pepper was getting more involved in his life and forcing him to clean up (most of) his act, he would open his eyes and realize that a whole human being was living with him, waiting for him to realize that they were supposed to be relying on him; not an AI built in the comfort of their room. 

     But nope. Absolutely nothing changed. If anything, things got worse. 

     He was away more often, focusing on the Avengers. Or he was with Pepper, the new love of his life. 

     You tried not to linger on the situation often, knowing it would only lead to pain in your chest. So you just stuffed it in the back of your mind, hoping one day that the pain would just lessen all together. 

     About two months ago, you and MJ had decided to make things official after going on your first date. At first you talked about how fast the two of you were going, but Michelle simply said ‘we’ll be u-haul lesbians then.’ That was the end of the conversation. 

     Currently, you and your girlfriend were facetiming. You would’ve made the trek to her house but she was about to study and you both knew that you’d distract her. Plus the two of you were due for some time away from each other considering the fact that you’re at her place almost everyday. 

     “Okay, so I found this recipe the other day and I’m just now remembering it.”

     MJ looks at you confused, “Okay?” 

     You roll your eyes playfully.

     “I wanted to try it with you. After my ban from your place has been lifted.” 

     “It’s not a ban,” she chuckled.

     “Well, it sure as hell feels like one ba-”     “Mr. Stark has arrived with a guest,” M.I.A cut you off. 

     “Who is this guest?” 

     “Secretary of State, Thaddues Ross,” the AI replied, pulling up pictures of the man. 

     “Hey M, I’m gonna call you back.”

     “Yeah, yeah,” she nods, looking a little concerned. “Take all the time you need. Let me know if everything’s okay.”

     The two of you give your goodbyes and you ask M.I.A to pull up the live footage from the conference room.

     “Perspective. The world owes the Avengers an un-payable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives… but while a great a=many people see you as heroes, there are some who would prefer the word “vigilantes”, is what you first hear when you start watching. 

     Immediately your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

     “And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?” Natasha asks.

     “How about ‘dangerous’?” he replies. “What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?”

     The secretary activates a screen behind him which begins to play the previous battles the Avengers and SHIELD have fought in. 

     “New York.” 

     He clicks a button, footage of chitauri, shooting guns, and Hulk smashing plays. 

     “Washington D.C”

     A new video appears, showing the insight helicarriers firing at each other with chaos following. 

     “Sokovia.” 

     The frame changes, showcasing the terrified citizens that were on the flying piece of land. 

     “Lagos.” 

     “That’s enough,” Steve interrupts. 

     Ross nods in response and begins his speech again. 

     “For the past four years, you’ve operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That’s an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.”

     He places a thick document on the table and slides it across to Wanda. As the team slides the book to each other Ross starts talking. 

     “The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries… it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they’ll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary.” 

     “The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place,” the Captain begins. “I feel we’ve done that.”

     “Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?” There was a momentary pause as the two men’s eyes met. “If I misplaced a couple of 30 megaton nukes… you can bet there’d be consequences. Compromise. Reassurance. That’s how the world works. Believe me, this is middle ground.”

     At this point, you’re walking out of your room after transfering the feed to your tablet and making your way to the elevator.

     “So, these are contingencies,” Rhodey states. 

     “Three days from now,” Secretary Ross begins. “The UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords. Talk it over.” 

     Natasha speaks up, “And if we don’t come to a decision you don’t like?”

     “Then you retire.” 

     The elevator stops and you look up seeing the Secretary walk in with someone behind him. You give him a subtle disgusted look before turning your attention back to the security footage.

     As the deathtrap descends, you can feel his eyes lingering on you. 

     “Can I help you?” 

     “You’re a little young to be an intern.” 

     “You’re a little old to be looking at me like that,” you shrug, swiping away from the video on your tablet as you feel him looking over your shoulder. 

     Ross gives an awkward chuckle and furrows his eyebrows. When you reach the bottom floor, he gets ready to step out and places a hand on your shoulder. 

     You look at him like he’s lost his mind. 

     “You seem like a good kid. Be sure to make good choices.” 

     Raising an eyebrow, you refrain from saying what you want to say. You lift your hand and gently take his off of you. 

     “Don’t touch me,” 

     Once he exits, you hear the chatting start back up.

     “Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor,” Rhodes told Sam. “Which is one more than you have. 

     “So let’s say we agree to this thing,” Wilson starts. “How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?”

     “117 countries want to sign this. 117, Sam, and you’re just like, ‘No that’s cool. We got it.” 

     “I have an equation,” Vision announces as you get back on the elevator. 

     “Oh this will clear it up,” Sam mutters. 

     “In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.“

     “Toaster oven’s got a point there,” you mumble, stepping back on the metal deathtrap. 

     Steve asks,“Are you saying it’s our fault?”

     “I’m saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict… breeds catastrophe. Oversight… oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.” 

     “Boom,” Rhodey says.                             

     You see Tony lying on the couch, quite relaxed, contradicting the tense atmosphere. 

     “Tony,” Nat starts. “You are being uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal.”

     “It’s because he’s already made up his mind,” Steve explained. 

     “Boy, you know me so well,” Stark starts, getting up and rubbing the back of his head. “Actually I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache,” he pauses to grab a mug of coffee. “That’s what’s going on, Cap. It’s just pain. It’s discomfort. Who’s putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?”

     Tony puts his phone in a basket and taps the screen. An image is projected of a smiling young man. 

     “Oh, that’s Charles Spencer, by the way. He’s a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. Had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn’t want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn’t go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where, Sokovia.”

     He pauses for a second as the team soaks in the information.

     “He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won’t know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.

     “There’s no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I’m game. If we can’t accept limitations, if we’re boundary-less, we’re no better than the bad guys.”

     “Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don’t give up,” Steve rebuttals.

     “Who said we’re giving up?” 

     “We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame.”

     “I’m sorry. Steve,” Rhodey blurted. “That-that is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we’re talking about. It’s not the World Security Council, it’s not SHIELD, it’s not HYDRA.”

      “No, but it’s run by people with agendas, and agendas change.”   

      “That’s good,” Tony starts. “That’s why I’m here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing.  

     “Tony, you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there is somewhere we need to go, and they don’t let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.”

     “If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s a fact. That won’t be pretty.”

     Wanda finally speaks up, “You’re saying they’ll come for me.”

     “We would protect you,” Vision promised. 

     “Maybe Tony’s right,” the redhead speaks. “If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off--”

     “Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam interrupts. 

     “I’m just… I’m reading the terrain. We have made… some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back. 

     “Focus up,” Tony says. “I’m sorry, did I just mishear or did you agree with me?”

     “Oh, I want to take it back now.”

     “No, no, no. You can’t retract it. Thank you. Unprecedented. Okay, case-closed--I win.” 

     From what you see, Steve stands to leave abruptly. 

     You then walk out of the elevator, tablet still in hand with the footage up. The captain walks past you just as you turn the corner and spot the team. 

     “Someone’s upset,” you hum. 

     You walk past everyone towards the fridge and grab a water bottle. 

     “Anyway, that was very childish. And kinda stupid.” 

     Inquisitive looks are thrown your way and you hold up the tablet awkwardly as you plop down on a chair. 

     “I was watching you. I kinda do that a lot. It’s not as creepy as it sounds.” 

     You open the bottle and take a sip. 

     “What are you doing down here kid--”

     “Ahhh,” you interrupt. “Don’t call me a kid. I haven’t been a child for years.”

     “Just answer the question,” Tony snaps. 

     “I like to stay informed. No one tells me anything and while you think that these private meetings only affect you, it doesn’t. It affects me too. You may not remember I’m your child but several people do. And that puts me in danger. So yes, I listen to your conversations to make sure it’s nothing I need to worry about.” 

     An awkward silence washes over as you gulp down more water. 

     “Anyway, I was just riding up and down the elevator waiting for you guys to finish. That Ross dude is kinda creepy by the way. But you’re really considering signing that thing?” 

     “Not you too,” your father mutters. 

      You let out a laugh and everyone looks at you strangely. 

      “Is this funny to you?” Rhodey asks. 

      “Yes,” you stop laughing abruptly. “I find it hilarious that this is the same government that was ready to drop a nuke on the city during the Battle of New York not giving a damn about a single civilian that was still in the area. I find it hilarious that this is the same government that lets thousands of children and women of color go missing and not do a thing about it. It’s funny that this is the same government that let HYDRA, Red Room, AIM; all that shit grow right under their nose. It’s funny because this government is the same one that uses taxpayer money for dumb ass projects and unnecessary military funding instead of using it to fund shit that helps the civilians they claim they care so much about. I mean how can you not find this situation amusing?”

     “Look,” Tony attempts. 

     “I’m not finished,” you challenge, looking him dead in the eyes. “This government don’t give a damn about y’all, especially not the three of us,” you say, gesturing to yourself, Sam, and Rhodey. “We’d be booted out of this country before you could even blink if they ever got the chance and you know that.

     “I don’t know why y’all are so adamant on gaining the government’s trust when they don’t give a flying fuck about you or these goddamn civilians. All they care about is power. They don’t care how many civilians come up missing or die in some tragic accident. It doesn’t matter what happens. When they see someone becoming richer or smarter or more powerful than they are, they will do anything to shut that shit down. 

     “I don’t understand how you can’t see that. And maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s just me and my experience,” you pause, catching the gaze of every person in the room with hard eyes. You take a deep breath and try to calm down. “Sign it if you want to. Think about how many lives you’ll lose then.”

     You stand from your spot and walk into the open elevator, ready to get to the comfort of your bed. 

-

     It had been two days since the initial meeting and you were currently sitting on Michelle’s bed watching her read. 

     “You’re really pretty,” you muttered out of the blue.

     You saw your girlfriend’s cheeks develop a subtle red tint as she mumbled back a ‘thank you, and continued reading. You groan and gently pull the book out of her hands. 

     “Hey,” she quietly protests. 

     “Please,” you pout, holding your arms out as an invitation.

     MJ fondly rolls her eyes before lowering herself onto you. You hummed contently and squeezed her before planting a kiss on her cheek. 

     She surprised you by turning her head and giving you a lingering kiss. That one kiss soon turned into something more. 

     Michelle gently pushed you onto your back and straddled your hips. Bending down she kissed you once again, her lips gliding with yours. 

     This continued for a few minutes, taking small breaks in between to breathe. You don’t think you could ever get enough of her and hoped that she was feeling similarly.

     You kissed until your jaws hurt. The euphoric feeling still lingered as MJ rested her forehead against yours, trying to catch her breath. 

     “We should do that again sometime,” you mumbled. 

     Your girlfriend nodded in response, giving one more chaste kiss to your lips before dropping to your side. 

     “Tomorrow,” she said after glancing at the clock that read 10:47. 

     “Guess I’m spending the night then.” 

     “I have no problem with that.”

-

     The next day, you were awoken by beeping from your phone. Once you were fully aware of your surroundings you picked up the device and read the notifications that M.I.A sent through. Scanning through them, you sat up with urgency and played the video. 

     “A bomb hidden in a news van ripped through the UN building in Vienna. More than 70 people have been injured. At least 12 are dead, including Wakanda’s King T’Chaka. Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Bares, the Winter Soldier. The infamous HYDRA agent, linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations.”

     Carefully removing Michelle’s arm from around your waist, you stand up and move to the corner of the room. You press the contact and hold the phone up to your ear. 

      “Nat what the fuck is going on?”

     You hear the woman sigh on the other side of the phone.     “Look, just… stay wherever you are.”

     “Yeah, okay, whatever. I want answers, Nat.”

     “(Y/n),” she says firmly. “Calm down and go back to whatever you were doing. Right now, this does not concern you and I would like it to stay that way. Do you understand me?”

     There was some silence, before you let out a forced chuckle. 

     “Okay, whatever. Bye.”

     “(Y/n) c’mo--”

     You disconnected the call and gently tossed the phone onto MJ’s desk.     “You sound stressed.” 

     Turning around to face the bed, you see Michelle sat up and leaning against the headboard. You nod slowly and crawl your way up towards her. 

     “I am.”

     You feel her hand take hold of your clenched ones and she rubs them, causing you to relax slightly. 

     “There was a um, bombing at the--the um… signing thing. And no one wants to tell me what’s going on, so,” you end the sentence, shrugging. 

     MJ’s head drops onto your shoulder and you let her cuddle close. 

     “They told me to stay where I was. So hopefully we can get something good out of that.” 

     There was no response and you thought she had fallen back asleep, but you were proven wrong when your girlfriend started getting up. 

     “C’mon,” she instructed, holding her hand out when she saw the look of confusion on your face. 

     Taking her hand, the two of you made your way to the kitchen. 

     She turned around and grabbed your shoulders. 

     “We are going to make some breakfast… or lunch whatever. And then we are going to binge watch until we can binge watch no longer. Alright?”

     You nod your head, chuckling and then got to work. 

-

     It had been days since you last heard from anyone. No updates from Natasha. M.I.A even told you there hasn’t even been a great deal of movement in the compound. Today you decided you would head back. 

     When you arrived it was quiet. As you walked down the halls you heard distant chatter and followed it. 

     Turning the corner, you were surprised at what you saw. 

     “What the hell happened?”

     The two men turned to look your way, but you were given no answers. 

     Tony had bruises on his face and he looked more tense than usual. Rhodey had some sort of tech on his legs. 

     “You fought them. You fought them all, didn’t you?” 

     Both men looked away and avoided your gaze. 

     “You didn’t even listen to what I said. This is what the government does. I tried to tell you, but you didn’t even fucking listen,” you ranted, your voice slightly raising.

     “Us breaking apart wasn’t the government. Most of this is on some guy th--”

     “Well the government allowed it to happen so I’d say it is their fault!” 

     You turned to your father with pleading eyes. 

     “Where are they, Tony?”

     “Kid, they’re criminals now, I don’t--”

     “Stop calling me that! I’m--I’m not some kid. I’m not your kid,” you let out a frustrated breath. “You--you couldn’t talk it out? Like mature adults? You just had to go assert your dominance somewhere--in what? An--an airport? Some vacant lot? You just had to fight. Do you not know how to communicate?” 

     You looked at the two men, shook your head, and brushed past them. 

     Just when things were alright.

-

     “(Y/n)?” 

     “What M.I.A?”

     You were currently laying in your bed trying to control the tears that were begging to fall from your eyes due to the amount of overwhelming shit you had been hit with. You talked with MJ for a little while and while it helped a bit, you honestly were still feeling like… well shit.

     “There’s a package for you.” 

     Furrowing your eyebrows, you head down to where the mail is usually placed, get the package with your name on it, and head back to your room. 

     Grabbing a pair of scissors, you cut the tape and open the box. Inside was a letter and a phone. 

     Hey sweetheart.

     It was Natasha’s handwriting.

     I’m sorry. I really am. We all are. I wish things wouldn’t have ended this way, but they did and we can’t really do anything about it now. 

     I listened to what you said. I listened and I tried my best to understand. I don’t think I ever wanted to sign the accords in the first place. The only reason I did so was so that we could stay together. So that I could stay with you. This team is the only family I’ve had in a long time. The fact that that stack of papers could end that scared me. 

     I just kept trying to convince myself that signing the Accords was the right thing to do; anything to keep this team together. Anything to keep everything from falling apart. 

     But the more I thought about it, I realized. You were right. Everything you said. This government doesn’t care. And if the government doesn’t care like they’re supposed to then we need to. People need the government, but they don’t have it. They do have us though. And they always will. 

     I love you. I didn’t say it enough and I don’t know when or if I’ll ever get to tell you that again. You are so precious to me and I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. If you ever need anything, you can always give me a call. 

     You wiped your eyes and gently picked up the phone. You held it in your hands for a moment before setting it down. You folded the letter back up neatly and placed both items in the top drawer of your nightstand. 

     You laid back down on your bed with less tears on your face. 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

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[hrina]

Polished

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 15.6k REQUESTED: nope!

hi everyone 💘 this is the bodyguard AU that i’ve spent all week writing. she’s another long one (i think i have a problem lol) but i worked really hard on it and i’m super proud of how it all turned out. i really hope you like it! if you do, please feel free to leave me some feedback here. 

thank u to the people who acted as my betas for portions/the entirety of this fic: @emotionally-imbruised​, @gucciwoodnymph​, @poppunkdork​ and @atlafan​! i appreciate it so much! 

warning: this fic contains mentions of blood, minor violence, attempted assault, weaponry, and a single use of the f-slur. if any of this makes you uncomfortable, please keep scrolling.

with all of that being said, enjoy! i can’t wait to hear ur thoughts 💖

~*~

     September 18, 2020

“Cheers!”

The tequila burns its way down your throat as you toss the shot back. Your ears are ringing, the sound amplified by the music pulsing through the nightclub. Lights flash from the ceiling, bathing everything in pinks and blues and greens and purples. To your right, Sydney leans forward, smiles toothily, and yells something at the bartender. You think she might be telling him that it’s her birthday, even though that won’t be true for another month—perhaps it’s an attempt to secure an additional round of drinks. Your hips sway unconsciously as you sink your teeth into a slice of lime.

It’s a Friday night.

In the periphery of your vision, you catch the bartender nodding with a permissive smile on his face.

It’s a Friday night, and Sydney is handing you another shot of tequila.

Someone places their hand on the small of your back as they pass. A little zap of electricity races down your spine.

It’s a Friday night, Sydney is handing you another shot of tequila, and you’re drunk. You’re very, very drunk.

The pinch of salt that you lick off your hand stings the edge of your tongue. You don’t reflect on the sensation for too long, though, choosing instead to tip your shot glass back and let the alcohol run its course. The bottom of the glass thuds against the countertop when you slam it down, but the noise is lost amidst the heavy bass pouring through the club. Sydney smiles up at you as she bites into her lime, a green grin. You laugh.

“So!” your friend screams, grimacing at the sour aftertaste lingering on her lips. “Where’s Harry?”

“What?” You squint and lean in, bending down slightly so that you can hear her properly.

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly and repeats the question: “Where’s Harry?”

“Oh!” You smirk, shooting her a mischievous wink. “Managed to shake him off for the night!”

“No shit!” Sydney yells, her jaw dropping. “He let you come?”

You pucker your lips, averting your gaze. “Er…not exactly.”

In response, her eyes widen, and she just laughs. You grin when she slaps your arm gently and grabs your wrist, tugging you away from the bar and into the dancing crowd.

“Who cares?” she says loudly, throwing her hands toward the ceiling and shaking her hips. “He’s got a stick up his ass either way!”

Despite your inebriated state, part of you longs to correct her. He’s actually not that bad, you want to say, because it’s true. In public, Harry is stoic and reserved and always on high alert, but that’s because he has to be. It’s his job. You resent the fact that he intimidates your friends, and that it complicates your outings, but you don’t resent him. He’s been assigned to you for two years now, and there’s never been an incident—you wonder if it’s because he’s good at what he does, or because you don’t really need protection after all.

All this time…perhaps your mother was just overly paranoid. And perhaps she continues to be overly paranoid, even to this day.

You shake those thoughts from your mind; they’ll just give you a headache.

Another hand lands on the small of your back, but this time, the contact isn’t fleeting. Fingers pinch and tug at the material of your shirt, relentless. You’re about to whip around and demand that this badgering stranger unhand you, but then a pair of lips are right at the shell of your ear. Hot air fans down your neck—you shiver.

“Why do you insist on making my job so much harder than it has to be?”

~*~

Harry doesn’t speak a word after ushering you into the car. The whole ride back, you sit with your arms crossed, staring out the window and trying to shake off your dizziness. A deep pout is etched into your lips. Your somber expression doesn’t shift, not even when Harry pulls up to the tall metal entrance of your estate, punching in a code on the keypad and sticking his head out of the driver window to undergo a retinal scan. He settles back into his seat afterward, blinking rapidly and waiting for the front gates to creak open.

“How’d you find me?” you slur as you stumble into your bedroom. It’s the first time you’ve spoken since he dragged you out of the club.

Harry doesn’t answer as you make your way over to your bed; your room is large, rivalling the size of an overpriced studio apartment. The furniture is all carved from the finest mahogany, and a glass chandelier hangs from the ceiling. Tall, full-length windows are framed by satin curtains. On the opposite wall stands the door to your private washroom, and next to it, the entrance to your walk-in closet. It’s lavish, it’s luxurious, but it does nothing to ease the situation at hand.

“What?” you ask, plopping down onto your bed. You lift one foot up, fiddling with the strap around your ankle. “Ignoring me for the night?”

You purse your lips as you struggle to get your heels off. Your head is swimming, and a deep feeling of shame is blossoming in your chest. Groaning loudly, you smack your hands down against the duvet and squeeze your eyes shut.

Footsteps approach, but you pay them no mind. You only open your eyes once you feel a pair of rough—albeit nimble—fingers dance down your shin. Through the slight blur in your vision, you find Harry kneeling before you, his hands working deftly to unclasp the strap on each ankle and gently tug your shoes from your feet. You wiggle your toes, sighing appreciatively.

“Thank you,” you murmur, swallowing heavily.

He only grunts in response.

The two of you sit there in silence—you on your duvet and him on his haunches. He’s looking down at the ground, and you take the moment to study his features—the sharp bridge of his nose, the fluttering of his eyelashes, the twisting of his lips. His black suit fits him well, filled out in all the right places; gold cufflinks glint in the moonlight. He’s attractive, and you’re not blind. But your relationship is strictly professional, no matter how much you like to think that the two of you have grown close enough to be friends.

“Find my iPhone,” Harry mutters suddenly.

“What?”

You recoil. He looks up at you with piercing green eyes, and only then do you realise that he’s answering your initial question.

“Oh,” you say, nodding. “Well…good to know.”

His lips twitch.

You wobble into the washroom, trying your best to rub off the makeup on your face despite your inebriated state. Somewhere beneath the buzz, you know that you didn’t get all of it—and that there’ll probably be dried crusts of mascara beneath your eyes tomorrow—but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“You missed some.”

You jump, your gaze snapping upward. In the reflection of the mirror, Harry is leaning against the doorway. You groan, raking your fingers through your hair.

“Don’t worry about it,” you mumble.

Harry’s brows creep up his forehead, surprise evident on his face. “Aren’t you always telling me that it’s important to take it all off before bed?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m smarter when I’m sober.”

He snorts. “Good one.”

You frown.

He pushes off from the doorway, stepping closer to you and reaching for the pack of discarded makeup wipes. When his eyes meet yours in the mirror, he tilts his head to the side, gesturing to the toilet on your right.

“Sit.”

You pout like a child, plopping down onto the ceramic lid and waiting impatiently. Harry takes his sweet time, slowly pulling a wipe from the package and unfurling it gingerly. You’re momentarily entranced by the way the rings on his fingers sparkle in the light. But then a yawn tears past your lips, and you begin to tap your foot against the bathroom tiles, letting out an annoyed sigh.

“C’mon. I’m tired.”

He shoots you a stern look. It’s enough to shut you up.

You watch him intently as he crouches down in front of you and grabs your chin between his fingers. “Close your eyes,” he murmurs. The deep baritone of his voice sends a shiver down your spine.

His ministrations aren’t as tender as they should be—you make it a point to tell him as much.

“You’re rubbing too harshly,” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut. “Be gentler with it.”

“Quiet,” Harry huffs.

Spurred on by his irritation, you continue: “Are you always this rough? Your poor girlfriend…”

He grits his teeth.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he deadpans. You whimper when he drags the wipe unforgivingly over the delicate skin of your eyelids. “But if I did,” he adds, “she’d like it rough.”

Your shoulders stiffen once his words sink in. He says nothing else, choosing instead to crumple the wipe up into a ball and toss it in the garbage. You follow his movements with wide eyes, staring up at him as he stands.

“Brush your teeth,” he tells you, rubbing his fingers over his jawline. “Your breath stinks.”

And then he’s gone.

After a haphazard attempt at brushing your teeth, you shuffle back into your bedroom. Harry is still there, but he’s holding two pieces of fabric for you to take. You recognize them as the baggy t-shirt and the shorts that you usually wear to bed.

“Thank you,” you say, laying the material out on your mattress. Your lips part with another loud yawn as you unzip your skirt, letting it fall from your hips and pool around your ankles. When you cast a glance toward Harry, you find him facing away from you, his fingers laced behind his back.

Always a gentleman.

You tug on the soft, cotton shorts—the hem falls a few inches below your bottom. You reach behind your back, trying to thumb open the clasps of your shirt, but quickly grow frustrated as the seconds draw out.

“Harry,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“Yes?” He doesn’t turn around.

“Can you help me with this?”

Gingerly, he peers at you over his shoulder. Once he takes note of the fact that you’re dressed, he steps closer to you. You toss a thumb backward, gesturing to the column of buttons stacked along your spine.

Again, Harry manages the task easily. You stiffen as he parts the fabric of your shirt, your eyelids growing heavy with each new inch of skin exposed. Though he’s not standing nearly as close as you would like, you can still feel faint puffs of air floating across the nape of your neck. The room is silent; you’re afraid that he can hear your heart battering against the confines of your chest.

Do his hands linger a touch longer than necessary, or is it just your imagination?

“Thank you,” you say for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.

You pull your shirt off, leaving yourself in just a lacy black bra. Harry’s sharp intake of breath is audible, and then he’s whipping back around.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Give a guy a warning next time, yeah?”

“Next time?” you parrot, emboldened by the alcohol in your system. “Am I going to be stripping for you on a daily basis?”

He grunts. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

You smile to yourself, unclipping your bra and shrugging on the baggy t-shirt he’d given you. “I know.” You clear your throat. “You can turn around now. I’m decent.”

Harry glances over at you as you climb into bed, pulling the covers back and nuzzling your face into your pillow. He bites his bottom lip, crossing his arms over his chest and watching as you settle in for the night. Once your shuffling has ceased, he squares his shoulders, his gaze flitting toward the door.

“Well, if that’s everything—,” he starts, taking a step back.

“Wait!” you say, shooting up into a sitting position.

He freezes, his eyes going wide. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you reply. You shrug, picking at a loose thread on your duvet and avoiding his eyes. “Would you—I was just wondering if maybe—you could stay?”

“Stay,” Harry echoes. You nod, still refusing to look at him. He sighs, and the pet name that he seems to have reserved exclusively for you falls past his lips.

“Love…you’re drunk.”

“Exactly,” you shoot back. “I’m drunk and I just…it feels like I’m floating, and I need something to keep me grounded. And—” you groan, “I know that doesn’t make any sense, but could you please stay? Just—just until I fall asleep. Then you’re free to go, or whatever.”

Harry’s eyes are wide by the time you’re through with your little speech. His expression leaves you feeling even more embarrassed than before. You’re about to roll your eyes and grumble out a never mind, I’m being stupid, just leave, but then he’s approaching your bed cautiously, like you’re a deer that he doesn’t want to startle.

“Just until you fall asleep,” he confirms, drumming his fingers over his bicep.

You nod, expecting him to settle into the armchair a few feet away.

He doesn’t though; you watch attentively as he lowers himself down to sit at the edge of your mattress. His posture is stiff, back straight—he uncrosses his arms, but then locks his fingers together and places them securely in his lap. You hold back a laugh.

“You can relax, you know,” you say, rolling onto your side so that you can fix him with earnest eyes. “I won’t bite.” You pause. “Unless you’re into that kind of stuff.”

“I’ll leave,” Harry threatens without missing a beat.

You giggle, smothering your cheek into your pillow. “Fine, fine, I’m sorry.”

The ghost of a smile dances across his lips. Your eyes fall from his face to his lap; without thinking, you reach out, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and tugging his hands apart.

“It’s already chipping,” you say, a hint of admonishment seeping into your voice. “You should’ve let me put on the protective coat, dummy.”

“It’s fine,” Harry says, flexing his fingers in your grasp. “You’re just gonna redo them on Wednesday, anyway.”

“Still,” you murmur, thumbing over the purple varnish on his nails. You scrape your knuckles against his, letting out a quiet sigh. “What colour do you want next? Are we sticking with lavender again?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “Let’s try something new.”

“I went shopping yesterday with Sydney and bought mint green,” you tell him through a yawn. “What do you think of that?”

“’S nice,” he replies, though it sounds like he’s far away.

You peer up at him through your lashes, only to find that he’s staring at you intently. Under normal circumstances, you would offer up a quip about how he can’t seem to keep his eyes off of you. But you’re tired, and you’re warm, and his hand is now stroking over yours, and you don’t want to ruin the moment.

Maybe he’ll stay the night, is your last thought before you drift off to sleep.

When you awaken the next morning with a pounding headache and a dry mouth, Harry’s gone. The only proof left of the night before is a tablet of ibuprofen and a glass of clear liquid sitting on your nightstand. The ceiling wavers above you; you might still be a little drunk.

You sit up, popping the pill into your mouth and knocking it back with a large swig of water. There’s a dull ache in your chest but you ignore it, opting instead to pull the covers back up over your head.

He didn’t stay. You try not to feel too disappointed as the realisation sinks in.

     September 23, 2020

Harry is waiting for you once you get out of class.

Usually, you fall into step with him, ready with a teasing remark about how he must not have anything better to do with his time. He knows that the two of you probably look like quite the pair—you, with your bag and your coffee and your cheeky smirk, and him, resigned and rigid and expressionless. He would give anything to claw his way out of this situation, to smile along with you and laugh at your jokes and tuck your hair behind your ear. But he needs this job, and your mother loves him like a son, and he doesn’t want to do anything to screw that up.

Today, however, you leave class with a new friend. Harry’s entire body tenses when he notes just how closely the man is walking next to you. He follows the two of you from a safe distance, trying his best to be inconspicuous. You laugh at something that your companion says, and his jaw clenches—he pretends not to know why.

It feels like eons have passed before you and the man finally part ways. Harry doesn’t waste any time.

“Hey,” you say without even turning to look at him. When he glances down at you, he finds a shadowy smirk on your face.

“Hi,” he replies, clearing his throat. “Good class?”

“Mhm.” You nod.

“That’s good.”

He blows out a breath, pushing through a door and holding it open for you to follow. You thank him softly, releasing a happy sigh as the warm sunlight hits your face. Harry’s gaze is drawn to the serenity of your features, but he looks away quickly. He’s not really in the mood to endure your taunts. Not today.

“So,” he starts as the two of you amble down the sidewalk, “you made a new friend?”

“Yeah,” you say, shouldering the strap of your messenger bag. “His name is Kevin. He’s nice.”

“He’s funny, too, I’m guessing.” The slightest tinge of bitterness seeps into his words. He hopes that you won’t notice, but of course, you’re as perceptive as ever.

You glance over at him, lifting an eyebrow quizzically. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

Harry keeps his eyes trained in front of him, where he can see a black car inching into view on the road ahead. Your chauffeur rolls down the window, lifting one hand in greeting. Harry waves back, his expression betraying nothing.

“It’s a good thing you know better, then, isn’t it?”

You laugh at his comeback, but the noise isn’t as cheerful as usual. If anything, it sounds a bit forced.

“Yeah,” you say. Harry opens the car door for you, and you climb into the backseat. “I guess it is.”

~*~

“Your hand is shaking.”

“It’s not my hand, it’s yours.”

“You’re smudging it.”

“Because you keep moving!”

You sigh, sitting back against the headboard of your bed and squeezing your eyes shut. You don’t need to see Harry to know that he’s fighting a smirk. The discography of your newest celebrity obsession is playing on your phone. Harry has told you multiple times that he hates this song—and that’s exactly why you have it on repeat.

“Can we please listen to something else?” he asks, shifting carefully on your bed.

You crack one eye open. “Can you stay still long enough for me to finish doing your nails?”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

You scoot closer to him, reaching for your phone and shuffling the songs in your library. Harry exhales in relief when a new, slower melody begins to trickle from the device. You toss it away, holding out your hand and looking at him expectantly. He lifts his chin, placing his fingers onto one of your crossed legs.

The sensation of his hand on your knee shouldn’t leave you breathless, but it does. You feel like his palm is burning a hole through your sweatpants. It’s been like this for as long as you can remember—painting his nails every Wednesday night, listening to music and enjoying each other’s company. Some evenings, conversation is scarce; others, it’s like you haven’t spoken in months. It doesn’t make a difference to you—you just like knowing that he’s there.

“How’d the call with your mum go?” Harry says. He makes a move to rest his chin against his fist before realising that the action will inevitably disrupt the polish on his other hand. You notice, smiling softly at the awkward moment.

“It went well,” you hum. Harry likes the way you purse your lips in concentration. “She’d landed in Amsterdam a couple hours prior. Called me when she got to the hotel.”

“That’s good.” He blows out a breath. “How long is she staying for?”

“A few months.”

“I see.”

You peer up at him, your eyes swimming with curiosity. “Do you know why she’s there?”

He shakes his head.

“Are you lying to me?”

“Love,” he starts, frowning gently, “you know she doesn’t—I’m not—she doesn’t keep me in her circle.”

“I know,” you say, somewhat mournfully. “I just thought—maybe she would’ve told you.”

A dejected crease forms on your forehead. Harry longs to lean forward and smooth it out with his lips. He hates when you get like this, but on the other hand, he can’t blame you. Surely, it must be difficult to be kept in the dark, especially for so long. It’s been years, and you’re still not exactly sure of what your mother has gotten herself into.

And despite your frequent questions about her trips, you’re not exactly sure if you want to know.

Silence ensues, and the two of you wordlessly agree to drop the topic—at least for tonight. You finish painting the nail on Harry’s middle finger, bending down and blowing cool air on the wet varnish in hopes of speeding up the drying process.

“Careful,” he warns when your hair tumbles over your shoulder. Without thinking, he reaches out, trying his best to gather the strands in one hand so that they don’t fall onto the freshly-painted nails splayed out over your knee.

You squawk in surprise, sitting back up and circling your fingers around his wrist. “What’d you do that for?” you say, admonishment evident in your tone. “You’re gonna screw these ones up!”

“I was just—!” he tries, but you shush him, scrutinising the semi-dry polish on his other hand. After a long moment, you sigh in relief, returning it and narrowing your eyes at him.

“You’re lucky,” you tell him, snorting quietly. “I would’ve killed you.”

“Like you could take me,” he mutters under his breath.

“What was that?” You cock an eyebrow.

“Nothing.”

You smirk, peering down at the mint green covering three out of his five nails. Absentmindedly, you run your fingers over the hills of his knuckles, softly tweaking his pinky at the end of your journey.

“We’ve come a long way since the black, haven’t we?” you ask, a teasing lilt in your voice. “That was so boring.”

“It was.” Harry nods.

It’s comical, really—a big man like him, sitting cross-legged on your bed. A man covered in an intimidating black suit, hunched over and watching with wide eyes as you meticulously paint shiny varnish onto each one of his nails.

A year ago, you would have been reminding him of this at every available opportunity.

Now, though…now, you’re just enjoying the closeness of it all.

“Er,” Harry clears his throat, and you peer up at him through your lashes.

“What’s up?” you ask.

“I—,” he looks away. “I just wanted to apologise for earlier today.”

“Earlier today…,” you trail off, frowning in confusion. “What happened earlier today?”

“When I—when you—never mind.” He shakes his head.

You smile. “I’m totally fucking with you,” you tell him, snickering quietly. You shrug. “And it’s okay. I forgive you.”

Harry’s brow furrows. “You’re the worst,” he grumbles, his lips curling down into a scowl.

You laugh, reaching forward and shoving his shoulder gently. “You love it.” Your own shoulders shake as you look back down, dipping the dried nail brush into its accompanying pot of green polish.

“Plus,” you add, trying to keep your voice light. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. Unfortunately, you’re the only man in my life.”

Harry lifts one eyebrow, unimpressed. “Should I be insulted?”

You resume painting his nails, giggling at his sardonic tone. “You should be flattered.”

     October 10, 2020

You’re walking back to the car when it happens.

It’s a beautiful day—the sun is shining brightly, and there’s not a cloud in the sky. You and Harry pass by a woman walking her dog, but not before you bend down, transferring all of your shopping bags into one hand (a feat, Harry thinks) and cooing at the furry little creature.

“She’s adorable,” you tell the owner, peering up at her with shining eyes. “What’s her name?”

“Blossom,” the woman replies, smiling.

“Blossom,” you repeat, turning your gaze back to the fluffy white dog. “Oh, you’re beautiful, aren’t you? I just want to eat you up.”

The owner laughs nervously—Harry doesn’t blame her. You’re harmless, but he’s right behind you. He’s sure that he looks intimidating, lingering in a black suit with his arms crossed over his chest. He makes no move to engage with the woman or her dog, even though the little boy in him yearns to run his fingers through Blossom’s soft white fur. Instead, he stands there, waiting patiently as you bid the lady goodbye and blow one last kiss in her pet’s general direction.

The two of you continue walking; the car is only about fifty feet away.

“That was one of the cutest dogs I’ve ever seen,” you say once you’re out of earshot. You glance back over your shoulder, sighing longingly. “Do you think she’d put her up for sale if I asked?”

Despite himself, Harry smirks.

“Contrary to popular belief,” he begins, uncrossing his arms. “You can’t buy everything you see.”

“I bought you, didn’t I?”

“I’m not for sale. And even if I was, technically it would’ve been your mother who bought me.”

“Okay, well then, we bought…your services.”

“Jesus.” He shakes his head, chuckling a bit. “You make it sound like I’m a prostitute or something.”

You laugh.

Harry loves your laugh. He loves the sound, loves the tone, loves the pitch. He loves the way your features crinkle up with joy as the noise slips from your mouth. Every time he hears your giggle, his gaze is drawn to your face, like an inborn reflex.

He’s grateful for that. He sends out a prayer of thanks to whatever mighty powers that may be, because when he looks at you, he sees everything. He sees your smile, the apples of your cheeks, your full, fluttering lashes.

And he sees the shaky red dot positioned squarely between your eyes.

“Get down!”

You squawk in surprise when he tackles you to the ground.

“Harry—!” you start, but then a telltale whizz! rockets past your ear.

You scream.

Your shoulder makes contact with the cement of the sidewalk, and a flare of pain blazes up your arm. Harry’s on top of you in an instant, his hands on either side of your head and his green eyes wild with panic. You’ve never seen him look so scared.

You know what’s happening, but you can’t seem to move. Your pretty pastel shopping bags are lying around you in a heap. Some are still on your arm, digging into your wrist and cutting off circulation. Harry appears to realise this as well, because he climbs to his knees and yanks your hands free.

“Go!” he shouts, but his voice is muffled by the ringing in your ears.

The two of you stagger to your feet. You take in your surroundings, your lips parted in shock. “My—my bags…”

“Forget the bags!” he yells. He grips your biceps callously, spinning you around and shoving you in the direction of the car. “Fucking run!”

~*~

“Harry…”

“Harry.”

“Harry!”

“What?” he roars, whipping around.

You stumble backward, nearly bumping into the wall behind you. You’re standing in the front foyer of your estate, your face littered with tears and your hands perpetually shaky. Harry locks the door and then wrenches closed the curtains on the windows flanking the entrance. The abrupt action causes him to wince.

“You’re hurt,” you state, though your voice is weak. “Harry, your arm…”

“’S just a graze,” he mutters, turning on his heel and storming past you.

You follow him as he makes his way toward the tall, winding staircase in the middle of the room. The steps span every level of your house, from the top floor to the basement. Harry pauses on the first stair of the flight leading downward, his hand on the bannister and his back to you.

“Go to your room,” he orders lowly, refusing to look at you. “And stay there.”

“Go to my room?” you repeat incredulously, your eyes bulging out of your head. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Harry doesn’t reply; instead, he blocks you out, descending the stairs into the basement without another word. You let out an angry yell, furiously fisting the material of your cashmere sweater. A few long moments elapse before you grit your teeth, and then your feet are smacking heatedly against each step as you rush after him.

You’re quiet once you reach the bottom of the flight, looking both ways for any clue as to where he could’ve gone. You purse your lips when you see him turn the corner, his left hand clutching his right bicep and a deep scowl etched into his face. Silently, you follow.

He ducks into a room at the end of the hall, pushing the door closed. However, it doesn’t click into place, leaving a small crack for you to peek through once you reach the threshold. You place one hand over your mouth to stifle your breathing, watching with wide eyes as Harry yanks his suit jacket from his torso.

His white button up is crisp and pristine—save for the right sleeve, which is soaked through with blood. You nearly gag.

Harry stalks through another doorway—a quick glimpse inside reveals it to be a bathroom. You push open your door ever-so-slightly, taking in the scene in front of you.

His bedroom. Of course.

You’ve never actually been inside his room. You’ve always known he lived somewhere in the house—a safe haven to frequent after midnight—but you’d never been bold enough to seek it out. You’re surprised to find that his room is quite similar to yours. It’s smaller in size, but the layout is the same (excluding your full-length windows and luxurious chandelier). The walls are painted a deep shade of burgundy, and the bed is made up of black satin sheets. He also has a walk-in closet and an adjoining washroom, just like you.

Bolstered by your discovery, you slip inside, nudging the door closed. Something on his dresser glints, catching your eye—you turn toward it.

It’s a picture frame. Upon closer inspection, you notice that it bears a photo of Harry. He’s young, but not that much younger than you are, now—maybe nineteen or twenty. He’s got his arms wrapped around two women, holding them against his sides; one is older, her face slightly weathered with age, whereas the other is youthful and alert, sporting bright eyes and smooth cheeks.

With a jolt, you realise that Harry and both of these women all look eerily similar—and that they all share the same smile.

The sound of running water jerks you out of your daze. Your head snaps up in the direction of the washroom; the door has been left ajar.

Harry is standing in front of the sink, soaking a washcloth underneath the faucet. His hair is dishevelled, and his button-up has been ripped open, exposing his chest and abdomen. A silver pendant—a dog tag—hangs from his neck. You’re shocked to discover all of the tattoos littering his skin—you’ve only ever been privy to the cross inked into the dip of his thumb.

Your eyes trail up his body, landing once again on the bloody sleeve covering his arm. The sight of it is enough, giving you the courage you need to speak up.

“Just a graze, huh?”

Harry’s eyes flicker up to meet yours in the mirror. A small part of you is upset that you didn’t manage to catch him by surprise. Are you really that predictable?

“Thought I told you to go to your room.”

You place your hands on your hips, scowling deeply. “And I thought you were twenty-six, not fifty. Who are you, my father?”

“No,” Harry says, and you hate the coolness with which he addresses you. He wraps the wet washcloth around his fingers, squeezing excess water from the fabric. “But I am your bodyguard.”

“You’re also hurt,” you retaliate, taking a step toward him.

Harry moves to the side, trying to put some distance between your bodies, but you’re not deterred. You back him up until his leg knocks against the edge of the bathtub, lifting one eyebrow challengingly because he has nowhere to go. His nostrils flare in irritation—you don’t think he’s ready to give up.

“You have two options,” you tell him, set on holding your ground. “You can either stop being such a proud prick and let me help you, or we can stay like this, and you can bleed out onto the bathroom floor.”

A long stretch of silence ensues. Harry stares at you with hard eyes, but you refuse to let your foundation crumble. Just when you think he’s going to force his way out of the situation, he sighs in defeat, his shoulders slumping dejectedly. You hold out your hand, and he dumps the washcloth into your waiting palm.

“Come here,” you say, backing up.

You hop onto the counter, spreading your legs and beckoning him closer.

He hesitates. You roll your eyes.

“Get over yourself,” you snap, shaking your head. “You’re not that dreamy.”

It’s unmistakably a lie, and you both know it, but neither of you say anything. Harry settles into the gap between your knees, keeping his arms securely at his sides. You peer up at him nervously, setting the washcloth down onto the counter and reaching forward to lightly grasp the collar of his shirt.

“This might hurt a bit,” you whisper, tugging the material away from his shoulders. He hisses when the fabric passes over his wound, scraping unpleasantly against the raw skin. You purse your lips, murmuring gentle apologies.

His left arm is covered in tattoos. You want to stop what you’re doing, trail your fingers over each design, and marvel at every little detail. But you can’t—you have bigger things to worry about at the moment, and not even your priorities are that screwed up.

Harry swears under his breath when you press the washcloth to his bicep. The material is warm and wet, and you use it to soak up the blood that’s been smeared down to his elbow. Once you’ve cleaned the area around his wound, you lean in to get a better look at what you’re dealing with.

The skin is pink and irritated, and there’s a deep groove running across the width of his arm. He’s lucky—he’s so, so lucky—but even as you stare, blood begins to pool all over again. You quickly press the washcloth back against the laceration.

“Fuck!” he chokes, reaching out and gripping the edge of the counter with white knuckles. “A little warning would’ve been nice.”

“Sorry.” You shift, trying to catch his eyes. “Do you have any disinfectant? And bandages?”

He nods, bending down and pulling open one of the cupboards below the sink.

“Let me—,” you start, but he cuts you off quickly.

“Still got one good arm, don’t I?” he grumbles.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, unsure of how to reply.

The disinfectant stings like a bitch—you tell him as much before spritzing it onto his wound. He lets loose a string of colourful curse words, and despite the tension hanging in the air, you smile. The bandages are next; you rip off a long strip, winding it around his bicep and tying it into a tight knot at the end.

“You need to keep pressure on it,” you murmur, though you don’t know who you’re addressing. “That should stop the bleeding, eventually.”

“Eventually,” he echoes. You stare fixedly at his collarbones and nod.

A beat of silence passes between you.

“I’m sorry,” you finally mumble, looking down at your lap.

He grunts. “For what?”

“For this,” you say, shaking your head and gesturing between your bodies. “You—you got shot, Harry.”

“Graze,” he reminds you, but the correction only makes you feel worse.

“It doesn’t matter!” you say, looking up at him earnestly. “You could’ve died.”

“But I didn’t,” he says. He’s staring at the mirror behind your head, refusing to meet your gaze. “And if it weren’t for me, you would have died.”

“That’s exactly my point!” you cry. You wrap your fingers around his forearm, hoping that the contact is enough to make him understand. “Who says my life is more valuable than yours? Some stupid fucking paycheque? Or—?”

Harry cuts you off before you can say anything else, squishing your cheeks together with his left hand. You make a surprised sound in the back of your throat, your brows knitting together at the suddenness of the action. You’re sure that you must look extremely unappealing, with a puckered mouth and inquisitive eyes, but he just gazes at you solemnly, licking his lips before speaking.

“I would take a bullet for you, no questions asked.” He stresses every syllable, like he doesn’t want to risk any potential misinterpretation of his words. “And not just because it’s my job.”

For the first time since he’s known you, he witnesses you speechless. Your squished lips part, but no words come out. Harry sighs, releasing your cheeks and stepping back from in between your legs. You watch as he approaches the bathroom door, pulling it wide open and making his request clear.

“You should get some rest,” he mutters, and once again, he refuses to meet your eyes. “It’s been a long day.”

     October 12, 2020

Harry pokes his head through your bedroom door just as you end the call with your mother. You groan, tossing your phone onto your mattress and flinging yourself into the mountain of pillows piled against the headboard. When you catch sight of him in the periphery of your vision, you greet him with a glare.

“You told her?”

He shrugs, stepping into your room and clasping his hands behind his back. “It’s my job.”

“No,” you say, mildly annoyed. “Your job is to make sure that I don’t get killed. Not to go running to my mother at the first sign of danger.”

Harry bristles. “She’s my boss. And you’re her daughter—she deserves to know.”

You groan, shutting your laptop and rolling over onto your stomach. Your sheets are soft; you wish that you could sink into the fabrics and let them swallow you up until you wink out of existence.

“What did she say?” Harry asks, snapping you out of your reverie.

“She wanted to come home,” you mumble, shaking your head. “I told her to stay where she was.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m fine!” you tell him, exasperation leaking into your words. “And I know that I’ll never hear the end of it if she has to cut her trip short because of me. God forbid she act like a parent for once in her life.”

“She’s trying her best.”

You laugh hollowly, turning onto your back and staring up at the ceiling. “That’s a lie, and we both know it.”

Harry doesn’t respond.

You peer over at him with raised brows, like you’re truly noticing his presence for the first time. “I’m surprised you’re still on duty. Does she not care about the fact that you’re injured?”

Again, he doesn’t respond. His silence, however, reveals everything.

“You didn’t tell her, did you?”

“I didn’t think it was relevant.”

“Bullshit,” you bark out, pushing yourself up into a sitting position. “So, what?” you ask, your lips curling down into a scowl. “You get to decide what’s ‘relevant’?”

“I’m here to protect you,” Harry states firmly, fixing you with stern eyes. “And I can’t do that from the sidelines.”

You scoff but say nothing else. A hush washes over the two of you, hanging heavy in the air. You pick at a loose thread on your duvet, your brows tucked tightly together.

Harry is the first one to break.

“Have you told your friends?”

You shake your head.

“Why not?”

“They don’t need to know.” You shrug. “Sydney’s rented out a booth for her birthday on Saturday, so I’m just going to go and pretend like nothing ever—”

“Hold on,” he cuts you off, wrinkles creasing into the skin of his forehead. “You—you’re joking, right?”

“Why would I joke about Sydney’s birthday?”

“No, I mean—,” he grunts, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. You stare at him, utterly bewildered. He stands up to his full height, and the exasperation warping his features fades; apathy takes its place. “I’m sorry, but you’re not going.”

“What?” you shriek. Your unbothered appearance quickly disintegrates into a heated grimace. “What do you mean, I’m not going?”

“You’re not going,” he repeats, and you hate the calm—almost tranquil—expression on his face. “That’s final.”

“Okay,” you start, scrambling to your feet and holding up your hands. “Let’s pause for a second, yeah? I know we fuck around and laugh about my daddy issues sometimes, but…you do know that you’re not actually my father, right?”

“This isn’t about your daddy issues,” Harry declares, though his tone is void of any and all emotion. “It’s about your safety.”

“And what about my sanity?” you fire back. You tug the sleeves of your crewneck over your clenched fists, desperately searching for something to keep you from falling apart. “Are you saying that I’m basically trapped in my own goddamn house?”

“You’re being dramatic.” The mask that he’s wearing seems to have been carved from stone.

“Well, you’re being a dick.”

“I can live with that.”

“Harry!” You stomp your foot—like a fucking child—as your eyes dampen with tears. Your initial sense of shock washes away, replaced by a helplessness that you haven’t felt in a long time.

The next question that leaves your lips is pathetically frail.

“Why are you doing this?”

He finally meets your gaze, and for the first time since he’d walked in, it feels like he’s looking at you rather than through you. His back straightens, shoulders squaring like he’s preparing for divine combat. You approach him carefully, a stray tear streaking down your face. Before you can wipe it away on the material of your sleeve, Harry is reaching out with his uninjured arm, cupping your cheek and catching the droplet with his thumb.

“Less than forty-eight hours ago, an attempt was made on your life,” he murmurs, staring at you with earnest green eyes. “And you’re already so willing to risk it again?”

You sniffle, lifting your chin in defiance and batting his hand away. Harry’s expression falls, and his gaze grows cold once more. You wrap your arms around your torso, glaring at him angrily. Your subsequent command drips with venom.

“Get out.”

He doesn’t put up a fight.

     October 14, 2020

It’s nearly one in the morning when someone knocks on your bedroom door. At first, you don’t hear it, too preoccupied with the song pouring from your headphones into your ears. But then it’s there again, a bit firmer this time, and you pause your music, calling out a gentle, “Come in!”

You don’t know who you’re expecting to see. Maybe it’s one of the housekeepers, doing some late-night laundry and bringing you fresh towels for the next day. Maybe your personal chef has been baking cookies again—a common coping mechanism for when she can’t sleep. Your mouth waters at the thought.

All of your hopes are dashed, however, when the door creaks open.

The first thing you notice is that Harry’s not wearing his usual attire. You don’t know why you’re surprised—it’s past midnight, and he’s technically off-duty. It’s still shocking, though, seeing him sporting a plain t-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants instead of the crisp, dark suit to which you’ve grown so accustomed. Your eyes drop to his hands—at least he’s still wearing his rings.

“Hi,” Harry utters lowly.

You turn back to your laptop, not saying a word.

He sighs, dragging a palm down the side of his face. Fresh bandages peek out from beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. For some reason, the sight startles you, and you remember that this is the man who had quite literally taken a bullet for you.

You suppose that it’s time to remove your head from your ass.

You shut your computer, pushing it to the side before tossing your legs over the edge of the bed. Harry watches you cautiously as you approach him, still as a statue. Swallowing heavily, you reach out, pushing the sleeve of his shirt up and brushing your fingers over his wounded bicep.

“How is it?” you ask, your voice no higher than a whisper.

He relents, shoulders deflating as he exhales. “’S better. Still sore, but it’s healing.”

“Can I see?”

He nods.

You’re surprised at how easily he lets you take the lead. You push the door closed with one hand, lifting your chin in the direction of your bed. He obeys your silent request and pads over to your mattress, easing down onto the duvet with his sock-clad feet still flat against the floor. You join him a moment later, settling in on his right side and crossing your legs to get comfortable.

His arms are limp, but his posture is straight. He stares at the door as you tug on the knot of his bandages, watching as they loosen around his bicep. Slowly, you unwind the gauze, subconsciously holding in a breath and awaiting what lies beneath.

The graze has started to heal. The skin around it is a lighter shade of pink, and the wound itself has begun to mend. You’re relieved to see that there’s no blood dotting his skin. Out of the corner of your eye, Harry’s throat bobs with a heavy swallow.

“It looks good,” you murmur, unsure of whether you’re talking to him or to yourself.

He just nods again, remaining motionless as you wrap the gauze back around his arm. You redo the knot at the end, and then you have to physically restrain yourself from leaning forward and smoothing your lips over the concealed wound.

Instead, your hands fall to his wrist. Harry stiffens, but then relaxes when you lift his fingers up to your face. Your brows furrow as you study the chipped green varnish on his nails. He’s been choosing the same colour for weeks, now—you’re glad that he seems to like it.

“Do you want me to?” you ask softly, peering up at him through your lashes. You’ve never been in his company so late at night (whilst sober, at least) but you suppose that there’s a first time for everything.

“Yeah,” Harry mutters, fidgeting with the material of his sweatpants. “Please.”

You shoot him the tiniest smile imaginable, and then you stand, making your way into the washroom to retrieve the worn, well-loved nail kit hidden under the sink.

~*~

“Do you want to keep the green?”

He shakes his head. “No, let’s try something else.”

“Okay.” You nod, dumping the contents of the bag onto your mattress. Little, colourful glass bottles clink together as they roll out onto your duvet. You look up at Harry with a raised eyebrow, gesturing luridly to the selection laid out in front of him. “Take your pick.”

His gaze sweeps over each shade before he shrugs—you don’t miss the slight wince of pain that passes over his lips. “I can’t decide,” he says simply, and when he looks back up at you, he’s almost shy. “You choose.”

“You’re giving me a lot of power, you know,” you say wryly. A soft chuckle slips from his mouth. After a brief moment of deliberation, you settle on pastel yellow, holding up the bottle so that he can see it clearly. “This might be pretty.”

“Pretty,” he echoes, staring straight into your eyes. His gaze knocks the air from your lungs and leaves you wondering if he’s talking about the colour, or about…something else.

You give the tiny bottle a good shake, catching sight of your phone laying off to the side. Without thinking, you snatch it up from the duvet, unlocking it and tapping onto your music app.

You hand the device over to Harry. When he shoots you a confused look, you just say, “If I’m picking the shade, you can pick the songs. Seems fair to me.”

He smiles.

You screw open the cap of the nail polish, studying the consistency of the liquid inside. “I might need to apply two coats to make it opaque enough,” you mumble, mostly to yourself.

Harry just hums in agreement as he scrolls through your music library.

He eventually seems to settle on a decision, because just then, a soft, monotone note wafts out from your phone’s speaker. You recognize the tune right away.

“Girl Crush?” you ask, the corners of your lips kinking up into a nostalgic smile. “I would’ve never guessed.”

He returns your tender expression, tilting his head to the side sheepishly. “It’s a nice song.”

“It is,” you concur. A sharp spark passes between your fingers when you reach for his hand, but neither of you comment on it. “Okay,” you say, shooting him a faux-menacing look. “Don’t move.”

The two of you sit in silence for the next ten minutes. You’re meticulous as you paint the varnish onto each one of Harry’s nails, your tongue caught between your teeth and your brow furrowed in concentration. You can feel him staring at you—he’s practically burning a hole through your head—but you say nothing, mostly because a small part of you is enjoying the attention.

“What were you doing before I showed up?” Harry asks quietly, breaking the silence.

“Working on a presentation for my seminar class,” you hum, dipping the nail brush back into its bottle. “It’s due Friday.”

“Are you nearly finished with it?”

You shake your head. “Not even close.”

“Love,” he starts, and you think you hear a hint of admonishment creeping into his tone. “Why’re you wasting your time giving me a bloody manicure?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You wave away his qualms with an absentminded flick of your hand. “I’ll get it done; I promise.” You pause for a moment, puckering your lips before you add, “Plus, I like doing your nails. It’s therapeutic.”

“Therapeutic,” he repeats. It’s obvious that he doesn’t believe you.

“Yeah,” you nod, blowing cool air over his fingers. “It’s nice—this. Us.”

He doesn’t reply.

You start on his other hand, careful with your ministrations. The memory of his closing wound is still fresh in your mind, and you don’t want to risk any sudden movements that might open it back up. You work noiselessly for the next few minutes.

“It’s weird seeing you dressed like this,” you murmur suddenly. The words slip out before you have the time to register them.

Harry chuckles faintly. “I’m usually on-duty, aren’t I?” When you nod, he continues: “Plus, we’ve never done this so late at night.”

“We can,” you say, perhaps a little too quickly. Your ears grow hot with embarrassment, and you’re suddenly extremely grateful for the fact that you have an excuse to not look at him. You stare hard at the rings on his fingers, swallowing heavily. “I mean…if you want. I’m sure it’s more comfortable sitting in sweatpants instead of slacks.”

“Don’t you have an early class on Thursdays, though?” Harry cocks an eyebrow, his question ripe with subtle mockery.

You chew on your bottom lip and refrain from telling him that you’ll happily show up to class with bags under your eyes if it means spending more of your time like this—with him. “Oh. Right.”

He laughs softly, and silence falls over the two of you once more. Just when you think that your conversation has tapered off for the night, he addresses the elephant in the room that you’ve both been trying your hardest to ignore.

“I’m sorry about the other day.”

You freeze, nearly smearing a glob of yellow onto the cuticle of his pinky. When you offer up nothing in response, Harry persists.

“I’m sorry I made you cry,” he mutters, lowering his head in shame. “I hated seeing you like that.”

You look up at him with wide, shining eyes. You’ve never witnessed him so full of remorse—the sight makes your heart ache.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, discarding the nail brush back into the pot of bright varnish. “I—you were probably right, anyway. It’s too dangerous.”

“No.” He purses his lips. “I think I was just being selfish. I was…trying to protect my ego.”

“What do you mean?” you ask softly.

His fingers flex when you stroke over the rough skin of his knuckles. He sighs.

“It’s my job to keep you safe,” he says. The words are slightly strained. “And I nearly failed.”

“But you didn’t,” you say, leaning forward.

“But I almost did!” he counters. You recoil, stunned by the emotion in his voice. He clears his throat and covers your hands with his. You can’t even be bothered to worry about the fact that his nails might ruin.

“When you told me that you were going out again, and so soon…,” Harry trails off, shaking his head. “I panicked, and I tried to take control. I’m sorry.”

You squeeze his wrists comfortingly and nod. “It’s alright,” you say thickly. “I forgive you.”

He blows out a relieved sigh, straightening up and blinking rapidly. Just like that, all evidence of his personal sentiments is gone. He can turn his feelings on and off so quickly—you suppose that it’s necessary in his line of work. Still, though…you don’t know whether to be annoyed or impressed.

“You should go to Sydney’s birthday,” he states matter-of-factly.

A small smile forms on your face. “I—are you serious?”

“Yeah.” He bobs his head in approval. “But I’m coming, too, obviously. Need to make sure you stay out of trouble.”

Your modest smile grows into a bright grin. Somewhere beneath your vibrant excitement, you realise that both of your hands are still tucked tightly between his.

“Escorted to a party by my hot, British bodyguard,” you tease. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

     October 17, 2020

The club is packed. You can barely move, squished between perspiring bodies and gyrating hips. You can’t even see the bar because of how many people are crowding the counter, waiting to order their drinks. It’s dark, and hot, and the air smells of sweat and desire—typical.

Under normal circumstances, you would’ve never come out on a Saturday night. The pros simply do not outweigh the cons.

Thankfully, though, these aren’t normal circumstances.

The booth that Sydney has rented is a beacon of hope, a little island of peace in the surrounding sea of chaos. You’re right next to the birthday girl, laughing at how captivated she is by the song booming through the building. She wraps one arm around you, tilting her head up and accepting another swig of vodka straight from the bottle.

The rest of your friends are scattered. Some are with you, lounging in the booth and drunkenly screaming lyrics up at the ceiling. Others are out on the dance floor, blending into the crowd and twirling around without a care in the world.

Sydney is plastered; you’re not too far behind.

A quick glimpse at your phone tells you that it’s a few minutes past one in the morning. It also makes you realise just how badly you need to pee.

There’s a man standing near the bar—he’s been eyeing you unsubtly all night. From what you can tell, he’s cute. A baby blue button-up hugs his shoulders nicely, and his blonde, shaggy hair is swept sideways on his forehead. He’s tall and handsome, and you don’t think you’d mind kissing him. As you inch your way toward the edge of the booth, a large part of you wonders why you haven’t already made a move.

You trip over your own two feet as you stand, and you’re sure that you would have broken your fall with your face if it weren’t for the strong pair of arms that catch you mid-tumble.

And oh. It comes rushing back to you, wrapped up in stark clarity.

That’s why.

Harry’s pained grunt reverberates lowly in your ear. With a loud gasp, you realise that your fingers are digging loosely into his injured bicep.

“I’m so sorry!” you yell over the music as he helps you back onto your feet. “Are you okay?”

He just nods, shaking off his discomfort and clenching his jaw.

He hasn’t moved from the edge of the booth all night. He’s been standing there for hours, untouched by the turbulent current of drunk socialites. You suppose that it’s because he appears to be just another member of security, watching the crowd and ensuring that everyone is staying safe.

“Where are you going?” Harry shouts. His question is barely audible, swept away by the basslines vibrating through your body.

“Bathroom!” you yell back.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

A laugh bubbles up in your throat. You pat his shoulder gently and shake your head. “I think I’m perfectly capable of taking a piss by myself! Thank you, though!”

He frowns, looking like he wants to argue. When he sees the expectant, mocking expression on your face, however, he clamps his mouth shut.

You shoot him an appreciative smile, tossing your thumb over your shoulder and barking out a quick promise of, “I’ll be right back!”

You’re pleased to discover that the washrooms of the club are split up into private cubicles rather than simply aggregated in one big space. The walls of the corridor are lined with doors and littered with a few drunken stragglers. You pass a man and a woman who are locked in a blazing kiss, and a hot pang of longing claws its way down your sternum, settling uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach.

The last cubicle on your right is vacant. Breathing out a quick prayer of thanks, you duck inside. There’s an empty shot glass standing on the edge of the sink, but other than that, the room is in good condition. You tug your underwear down as you position yourself above the toilet, clutching the hem of your dress close to your chest and doing what you came to do.

Two minutes and one flush later, you’re screwing open the faucet, sighing happily as cool water runs over your wrists. To your right, a dispenser containing lavender-scented soap is nailed into the wall. You wash your hands quickly before wringing them out and wiping the excess wetness against your thighs.

When you open the washroom door, you freeze in your tracks. A man—that same man who’s been making eyes at you all night—is standing in the threshold.

He’s even taller in person. And now that you’re closer to him (and shrouded in better lighting) you can see that his hair isn’t blonde like you’d originally thought, but light brown. His eyes are a stark shade of cobalt blue, attentive enough to indicate that he might be one of the only sober people in the entire building.

“Hi.” His voice is as smooth as velvet.

“Hi,” you reply, offering up a small, wary smile. He’s cute, but who the fuck tries to pick a woman up as she exits the bathroom?

“My name’s Lukas,” he says, holding out his hand. You take it gingerly, quietly introducing yourself in return. He smiles at the mention of your name. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” You stand on your tiptoes, peering over his shoulder and chewing on your bottom lip. “Sorry, my friends are waiting—”

“That’s a pretty dress,”  Lukas tells you, placing his hands on either side of the doorway. Somewhere beneath the buzz of alcohol in your system, you’re aware that he’s successfully blocked your only way out. He takes a step toward you, and you match it with a step back, nearly tripping over a shallow crack in one of the tiles on the floor.

“Thanks,” you say, your lips curling into a dim scowl, “but I really should be going.”

“Or we could hang out in here,” he suggests, shrugging innocently (in the back of your mind, you know that his thoughts must be the furthest thing from innocent.) “Just the two of us.”

“No, thanks.” You shake your head vehemently. Your palm finds a place on the wall, and you use the leverage to keep yourself steady. Your eyes rake down his body as he inches toward you, searching for any potential weak points.

Elbow to the nose? Knee to the groin?

Just then, a gruff utterance of your name is heard from out in the hall. You nearly sob in relief.

“Harry!”

Less than a moment later, a large, sweaty hand slaps down over your mouth. You squeal, frightened tears rushing to your eyes as Lukas heaves you up against the wall. He digs his fingers into the column of your throat, keeping you pinned with one hand while the other reaches for the door, aiming to slam it shut.

Before it can close all the way, a strong, ringed hand appears out of nowhere, shoving the barrier back open. Hinges creak as the doorknob crashes into the side of the wall, nearly putting a hole through the plaster.

Harry’s nostrils flare as he absorbs the scene laid out in front of him. Only a second passes before he’s stalking inside the cubicle, his mossy eyes alight with one palpable emotion: rage.

“Get the fuck off of her!” he bellows.

His palms make contact with Lukas’ shoulders, and he uses the brunt of his weight to shove him away from you. The other man goes tumbling into the opposite wall, almost stumbling over the porcelain bowl of the toilet.

“The fuck is your problem?” Lukas snaps, rubbing the back of his head as he regains his bearings.

Harry pulls you out of harm’s way, putting himself between you and your aggressor. You watch the scene unfold from behind him, anxiously fumbling with the hem of your dress.

“Don’t—,” Harry points at Lukas threateningly. His voice has returned to its normal, low octave, but you can still hear the fury simmering beneath his words, “—ever fucking touch her again.”

Lukas pushes himself off of the wall, cracking his knuckles and angling his head to the side. His blue irises glimmer maliciously as he looks over at you.

“Is this your boyfriend, sweetheart?” he asks. The words are nothing but a wicked taunt. He sizes Harry up, assessing his figure.

You watch his eyes widen when they land on the pale yellow polish decorating your bodyguard’s nails, and then—much to your horrified surprise—he laughs.

“Oh, my mistake.” He shakes his head, a spiteful smile splitting across his face. “He’s just a fuckin’ faggot.”

Harry doesn’t react to the insult—but you do. Before you can even register your actions, you’re slipping out from behind him, lifting your arm high into the air and delivering a sharp, backhanded blow to Lukas’ right cheek.

Your knuckles sting at the contact, but the pain is overshadowed by the smug sense of vindication that settles in your chest. Anger warps your features, turning you into someone unrecognizable.

“How dare—?”

The rest of your sentence dissolves into an alarmed shriek when Lukas seizes your wrist. He snarls.

“Know your place, bitch!”

You brace yourself for his retaliation, but the strike never comes. In the blink of an eye, Harry has Lukas’ arm pinned behind his back. Blue eyes well up with agony, and a pained shout slips from his lips. You recoil, startled by the sudden shift of power.

Harry leans down, his mouth just above Lukas’ ear. He glances up at you briefly before looking back down at the cowering man before him. In that moment, your gazes meet for only a millisecond, but the contact somehow puts you at ease.

“Apologise to the lady,” Harry mutters, pulling Lukas’ arm even tighter across his back. “Or I break it.”

Lukas whimpers, glaring up at you with angry eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he spits out, though there’s no sincerity behind the phrase.

Wordlessly, you lift your chin, spinning on your heel and making your way toward the door. Behind you, a surprised yelp slices through the air, followed quickly by a violent thud. When you peer back over your shoulder, Harry is brushing his palms off on the lapels of his suit, and Lukas is kneeling over the toilet, his chest heaving.

“Harry,” you say, calling him over. You hope that neither of the men can hear the slight quiver in your voice.

Harry approaches you, and you reach out for him. He offers you his uninjured arm; you link your elbow through the gap between his bicep and his torso.

You expect it to end there, but then Lukas mutters something unfamiliar under his breath. The words are nearly indiscernible, but you know for a fact that they’re definitely not English. Harry must hear them too, because he freezes in his tracks.

“Harry,” you say, tugging gently at his sleeve. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

“Say goodbye to your friends,” he replies bluntly, dodging your question. “We’re leaving. Right now.”

~*~

The journey back home is painfully quiet.

Harry says nothing until the car drags through the metal gates of your property and peels up the roundabout leading to your front door. Once your chauffeur cuts the engine, Harry turns to him, shaking his hand firmly and thanking him for the ride. You bid the man goodnight, catching his kind smile in the rear-view mirror.

He seems nice. You should probably learn his name.

But that can wait.

The effects of the alcohol in your system seem to have worn off. You attribute your sobriety to the fact that you were cornered and nearly attacked in a public bathroom not too long ago. You’re still a bit wobbly on your feet—not to mention the loud, persistent ringing in your ears—but your mind is clear. That’s all that matters.

Harry leads you inside, cupping his palm beneath your bent elbow and keeping you steady. Part of you longs for him to slide his hand closer and trail his fingers down your back until they’re tickling the base of your spine. But that would be unprofessional, you remind yourself, so you keep your mouth shut.

Walking into your room fails to bring you the familiar sense of comfort that it usually does. You swallow heavily, kicking off your heels (these ones aren’t embellished with any straps or buckles, thank God) and making your way over to your bed. As you approach your mattress, your fingers find their way to your back, grasping for the zipper of your dress that’s settled just above your shoulder blades.

You grit your teeth in frustration, stopping suddenly and casting a glance behind you. Harry is waiting at your door, standing rigidly with his hands clasped tightly in front of him.

“Can you…?” Your question is hushed and incomplete, and you don’t wait for his reaction before turning back around. The sound of his low footsteps reaches your ears; your skin prickles in anticipation.

His fingers are gentle as they tug your zipper down. He’s close—closer than usual. You can feel his warm, laboured breaths puffing out against the nape of your neck.

Harry pauses when he drags the zipper past the middle of your back, exposing the clasp of your bra. His hands abandon your body, leaving you confused. Before you can question him, however, he’s fiddling with the little hooks on the undergarment. A moment later, the cups holding your cleavage in place loosen and slip lower on your chest. A soft, dazed gasp tumbles from your lips.

Harry then resumes his previous actions, unzipping your dress the rest of the way and stepping back once he’s finished. You face him, clutching the sagging fabric against your sternum to keep it from sliding down your torso.

“Thank you,” you murmur. Suddenly, the floor is a lot more interesting than the man standing before you.

Harry just grunts in response.

You hesitate, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. There’s a palpable tension hanging in the air; you feel like it might suffocate you if you don’t voice the question dancing on the tip of your tongue.

“What was it?” you ask quietly, refusing to take your eyes off of the ground. “In the washroom, before we left—what did he say? It wasn’t English—”

“French,” Harry cuts in. You pause, clamping your mouth shut and waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t add anything else.

“What did he say?” you repeat. Beneath the loose, shapeless material of your dress, your heart is beating a mile a minute.

“Nothing,” Harry utters after a long moment of silence. “At least, nothing that you need to worry abo—”

“You’re lying,” you seethe, and the abrupt wave of irritation that washes over you is enough to make your head snap up. Your gaze burns into his face, lips curled down into a vivid scowl.

“Harry—,” you say, reaching out with one hand and shoving helplessly at his chest. He doesn’t budge, of course—the realisation only makes you angrier. “Stop lying to me.”

He clenches his jaw, and strong, slender fingers circle around your wrist before you can pull away. You squawk in surprise, your brows knitting together at the suddenness of the contact. Harry’s green eyes blaze with an emotion that you can’t quite recognize, but even then, it still leaves you utterly breathless.

You watch, stupefied, as he slides his palm beneath yours, lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a soft, barely-there kiss to the hills of your knuckles. Your jaw slackens, but—for the first time in your life—you have no witty comeback, no sharp retort.

“Une putain gâtée, tout comme sa mère.”

The words are a low murmur. His mouth brushes against your skin as he speaks. You’re enthralled by his French accent, but the sour expression on his face tells you that he must’ve just said something rotten.

“A spoiled whore,” Harry translates—he looks almost ashamed, “just like her mother.”

Your hand slips from his grasp.

     October 18, 2020

You’ve been in your room all day.

Harry hasn’t moved from his station outside, standing in front of your door with his arms folded over his chest. It’s been hours, and he hasn’t heard a peep from you. As much as he hates to admit it, he’s bored. You’re usually right next to him, talking his ear off and being your bossy, teasing self. He misses all of your little quips, not to mention the devilish smiles that you give him when you take a shot at pushing his buttons.

Now though, the silence is getting to him. He considers pulling his phone out and indulging in a trivial little game to pass the time, but then ultimately decides against it. The sun has fallen from the sky, and the moon has risen in its place—his shift is nearly over.

His cellphone chimes from inside his pocket. He fishes around for the device, eventually tugging it from the depths of his trousers. When he taps onto the screen, he finds a text from Lana, your personal chef.

Her dinner is ready. Do you want me to bring it up?

Harry purses his lips before typing his reply.

No, I’ll come down. Thank you.

A single smiling emoticon is her response.

After retrieving your plate from the kitchen and bidding Lana goodnight, Harry makes his way back upstairs. He stalls in front of your door for a few seconds before shaking off his uncertainties. His fist raps three times against the wood, and he waits expectantly for your answering call.

His shoulders deflate in relief when he hears a faint, yet familiar, “Come in.”

The room is dark, illuminated only by a small lamp on your nightstand. You’re lying on your bed, spine against the mattress and eyes trained on the ceiling. Your hair is fanned out against your pillow, and you haven’t changed out of your sleepwear (though it’s late now, Harry supposes, so there’s really no need). Cotton shorts sit low on your hips, but thankfully, your t-shirt is covering everything that needs to be concealed. When you turn your head toward the door, Harry notices that your eyes are rimmed with red.

You’ve been crying. The realisation makes his chest ache.

“Hi,” he says quietly, approaching your bed with cautious footsteps.

“Hi,” you croak. You sit up and clear your throat.

He holds out your plate. “Dinner is served.”

“It’s almost midnight.”

“That’s true.” He tilts his head from side to side, acknowledging your words. “But you haven’t eaten all day.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” you mumble, though you take the dish from him with eager hands, confirming his hypothesis. “Mac n’ cheese?” you ask, peering up at him with wide eyes.

He nods. “Compliments of the chef. She said it was your ‘comfort food’, or something like that.”

You pick up the spoon resting on the side of your plate, dipping it into the pasta and scooping up a large bite. Flavour explodes across your tongue, and you hum in appreciation at the taste. “Lana’s the best.”

Harry doesn’t respond. When you look over in his direction, you find him standing awkwardly at the side of your bed, like he’s not quite sure where to go.

“Do you want to sit?” you ask through a mouthful of food. His lips twitch at the warbled quality of your voice.

“No, I—,” he starts, shaking his head. “I can leave you alone.”

You swallow heavily, running your tongue along the roof of your mouth. “Stay,” you tell him, averting your gaze. The softness of your tone makes him pause, but you just shrug. “I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

~*~

You finish the entire plate of macaroni in a matter of minutes. Harry doesn’t think he’s ever seen you scarf down food that quickly. You offered him a bite, but he turned it down, claiming that you needed it more than he did.

He was right, of course. But you would rather die than tell him as much.

You set the dish down onto your nightstand, snatching up the reusable water bottle on the corner of the little table. Harry watches, amused, as you take a large gulp of the contents inside. Once you’ve swallowed, you chance a glance over at where he’s sitting on the edge of your mattress. There’s a small smile playing on his lips.

“What?” you ask wryly.

He chuckles lightly. “Nothing.”

You smirk but decide to drop the subject.

Harry shifts, rubbing his palms over his thighs nervously. “How are you feeling?”

You look away—you knew that he would try to breach the topic of last night, but the question is still a punch to the gut.

You shrug wordlessly. He clucks his tongue.

“That’s not an answer, love.”

Your shoulders slump in defeat. A loose thread on your duvet catches your eye, and you twine it around your index finger. Another long moment of silence passes before you finally speak.

“I’m just…confused.”

“Confused?” Harry’s eyebrows knit together.

You nod.

“How so?”

A rushed, humourless laugh falls from your lips. “You’re joking, right?”

When Harry shakes his head, you sigh.

“All my life,” you say, a lump forming in your throat, “I’ve been kept in the dark. Do you know how embarrassing it is, as a little kid, to not have an answer when your friends ask what your parents do for a living?” You wrap your arms around your torso, hugging yourself tightly.

“I even used to joke about it at school,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “‘Yeah, guys, my mom’s secretly a drug dealer!’”

Harry doesn’t say anything. You take his reticence as a sign to continue.

“But then, as I got older, I realised that maybe I wasn’t that far off. She might not be in a fucking drug ring, but she’s still doing something illegal. There’s no way that we could afford to live like this, otherwise.” You gesture toward the glossy chandelier hanging from your ceiling.

“And then you came into the picture,” you say, rubbing tiredly at your eyes. “And that’s when I really started to panic. But I didn’t want to show anyone how I was feeling, obviously—so I kind of just kept it all bottled up.”

“Until now,” Harry murmurs, his expression unreadable.

You nod. “Until now.”

The material of your t-shirt is twisted up in your fists. You exhale heavily, releasing the fabric and smoothing it out with your palms. Several long seconds of tranquility ensue, until—

“Arms.”

Your gaze snaps over to Harry. “What?”

“Arms,” he repeats gruffly, staring directly at you. “She’s not dealing drugs. She’s dealing arms.”

You sit back against the headboard as his words sink in. Silence hangs in the air, growing thicker by the moment. Your mouth opens as you try to make sense of this newly-revealed information, but your lips only form around dying sounds and nonexistent sentences. Eventually, you settle for a simple, “Huh.”

And despite the trepidation of the situation, Harry laughs.

The sound brings a small smile to your face. It quickly slips away, however, when you remember something else.

“Last night, the guy at the club…,” you trail off, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “I don’t think what he said was just an expression.”

Harry’s eyes are solemn. “Neither do I.”

“He told me his name was Lukas,” you say, straightening up. “Has my mother ever mentioned him before?”

He shakes his head.

“I don’t know anything else,” he replies. Deep down, you recognize that he’s telling the truth. “She only shares things with me when it’s absolutely necessary. My job—first and foremost—is to protect you. I’m sorry.”  

“It’s okay,” you say quickly, shifting closer to him. Harry stiffens briefly when you place your hand on his arm, but then relaxes again. The fabric of his suit is soft, pressed to perfection. “I—thank you for being honest with me. I feel better now that I know.”

He nods.

“And thank you for yesterday,” you add, swallowing heavily. “For keeping me safe.”

“Next time, I’m accompanying you to the bathroom,” he mutters. “End of discussion.”

You laugh. A tiny, barely-there smile creeps onto his lips. Your eyes fall to the yellow polish on his nails, and you hesitate.

“Harry,” you say. Anxiety unfurls in your stomach. “Can I ask you something?”

“’Course.” His voice is a low rumble. “What is it?”

“Last week,” you mumble, fidgeting with your fingers, “after you got shot—or grazed, whatever you want to call it—”

He freezes. You have a strong feeling that he knows where you’re going with this.

“You said—”

“I know what I said.”

I would take a bullet for you, no questions asked.

Your mouth goes dry. Harry won’t look you in the eye, but you refuse to let him shy away. You squeeze his forearm softly, hoping that the contact will prompt him to meet your gaze.

It does. When he peers up at you, the green of his irises sets off a series of echoes in your head.

And not just because it’s my job.

And not just because it’s my job.

And not just because it’s my job.

“Why did you?” you whisper, leaning toward him.

He blinks, embarrassed.

“You know why,” he grumbles, staring fixedly at your duvet. A loose strand of hair flops onto his temple as he shakes his head. “Don’t make me say it.”

Something shatters inside of you. Impulsively, you lurch forward, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to the corner of his lips.

Harry’s face snaps toward you as you sit back. You’re greeted by wide eyes, foreign and unrecognizable, and seemingly unable to make out who you are. The small mountain of hope that had been growing in your chest crumbles into nothing, scattering like dust in the wind.

You clench your jaw, trying to keep yourself composed. He’s looking at you like you’re a stranger.

“Sorry,” you sputter. Panic washes over you, and your eyes prick with the telltale sign of tears. “Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry—”

Just as it had last week, Harry’s hand finds your face, squishing your cheeks together and cutting off your apologies. You gaze up at him as he leans in; he’s shaking his head ever-so-slightly.

“Why would you do that?” he asks, and it almost sounds like he’s berating you. “Why would you—?”

“I’m sorry,” you eek out. Water beads along your bottom lashes.

“I’ve been trying so hard,” he carries on, smoothly disregarding your regrets. “Trying to keep myself from—”

He breaks off, gritting his teeth and staring directly into your eyes. His next words are stern, finite.

“It doesn’t fucking matter anymore.”

His fingers release your cheeks and migrate to the back of your neck. He uses the leverage to pull you in so that you can meet him halfway, and then he’s kissing you. It takes a moment for everything to register in your brain, but soon thereafter, you’re melting into him and kissing him right back.

You grip the lapels of his suit between tight fists, tugging him closer as you pour every ounce of yourself into his embrace. Harry’s lips work fervently against your own; the palm on the back of your neck slips lower, settling at the base of your spine. His other hand comes up, splitting apart so that his thumb and middle finger find themselves on each side of your jaw. The grip is bruising, unforgiving—you whimper in delight.

“This is—,” Harry can barely get the words out. “—unprofessional.”

“It is,” you murmur, nodding fiercely.

“We shouldn’t,” he says.

“We shouldn’t,” you agree breathlessly.

But neither of you stop.

Harry lays you down on your bed, climbing on top of you whilst still doing his best to keep your lips attached. Your hands slip beneath his suit jacket, fingertips digging into his back over the white button-up covering his torso.

“You’re wearing too much,” you whine once the two of you break apart for air.

He chuckles, pushing himself up onto his knees. You watch, awestruck, as he fiddles with the buttons lining his abdomen, undoing each one swiftly before yanking the jacket from his shoulders. A shadow of pain passes over his features.

“Careful,” you say softly, referring to his injured arm.

He doesn’t reply. Instead, he brings himself back down to where you are, wasting no time and dipping his tongue into your mouth.

“Mm,” he hums, smacking his lips together. “Mac n’ cheese.”

You giggle. “Guess you got a taste, after all.”

He nods, smirking. “In all honesty, though,” he murmurs, his lips smearing against the lower-half of your cheek, “I’d much rather get a taste of something else.”

He punctuates the innuendo with a gentle bite to your jaw, and you moan.

It doesn’t take long for his hand to travel south. Harry gives you a questioning look when his fingers reach the elastic waistband of your shorts.

“Can I?”

You nod.

He curses when the digits slip beneath the fabric, because you’re not wearing anything underneath. His palm scrapes over the triangle of trimmed hair at the apex of your thighs, and he nearly starts salivating right then and there. You whine impatiently, bucking your hips up to spur him along.

He chuckles, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “Gagging for it, aren’t you?”

A strangled squeak echoes in the back of your throat, but you say nothing.

“Answer me,” Harry growls, nipping softly at your earlobe. “Tell me you want it.”

“I want it!” you choke out. You wrap your fingers around his forearm, guiding his hand lower so that he can feel just how wet you are. “Please—I want it.”

“So polite,” he murmurs, sponging his lips up to your temple. Your eyelids flutter shut when he begins to rub languid circles into your clit. “Where are those manners usually hiding, hm?”

“Harry—,” you sigh, feeling your face grow hot. You’ll never admit it, but his taunts stoke the fire building in the pit of your stomach. He laughs darkly, sliding his middle finger down your slit and prodding coyly at your entrance.

“You’re soaked, and I’ve barely done anything,” he mutters. His thumb stays positioned squarely on your clit as he lowers his head, pecking your lips delicately. “Want me inside?”

You nod, but he only tuts in disapproval.

“Words, love.”

“Yes!” you whine, pouting deeply. “I—I want you inside.”

He smiles.

You squirm when he slips his finger into you, adjusting to the intrusion. Harry probes around curiously, stroking along your walls until he brushes against a spot that has you crying out in thrilled surprise and squeezing your eyes shut. The patronizing laugh that falls from his mouth is hot and heavy against your warm cheeks.

“That’s it, yeah?” he asks. “That’s the spot?”

You breathe out a weak whimper of confirmation, and he snickers. When he peers up at you and finds your eyes closed, a small frown tugs at the edges of his lips.

“Look at me, love,” he orders, adding another finger into your heat. “I wanna see you.”

You shake your head and turn away, face hot with humiliation. It’s good, though—it’s so, so good.

“Look at me,” Harry repeats, “and I’ll let you cum.”

It’s an offer that you can’t refuse.

Slowly, your eyelids flutter open. He grins at you, pride sweeping over his features. You keep your gaze trained on him, even when he speeds up the movements on your clit, his thumb rubbing quick shapes against the sensitive nub. Your back arches, toes curling into the duvet as your orgasm approaches. Harry kisses your lips, humming happily at the contact.

“Cum,” he commands quietly. “Cum for me, and then I’ll ruin this cute little cunt.”

The filthy promise has you falling apart.

He holds you tightly as your high washes over you, absorbing all of your little moans and cooing words of encouragement into your mouth. You shake, staring up at the ceiling and watching as the chandelier above you splits into doubles. The glass crystals twinkle alluringly in the dim light of your room.

“So pretty,” Harry whispers. He pecks the clammy skin of your cheek, and you sigh.

“That was…,” you trail off, unable to find the right words.

“Good?” he supplies, pulling his hand out of your shorts.

You bark out a weak, incredulous laugh. “Way better than ‘good’. I don’t think I can feel my—”

Your confession falters when you turn to the side, just in time to witness Harry slide two of his fingers past his lips. He groans desperately at the tang that spreads over his tongue.

“Sweet,” he murmurs, almost like he’s in a trance. He nuzzles his nose against yours, dropping his hand onto the bed next to your head. “You’ll let me have a proper taste next time, yeah?”

Without a second thought, you nod rapidly. “Yeah.”

Harry grunts in surprise when you push him off of you. His back lands against your mattress with a dull thud, and he chuckles faintly when you sling your leg over his waist, straddling him.

“What’re you doing?” he asks playfully as you begin to unbutton his white shirt. You pepper kisses down his chest, worshipping each new inch of skin that becomes exposed. His hands subconsciously find their way into your hair, gathering the bulk of it into a makeshift ponytail. Your clit positively throbs, ignited by the dominant undertones of the action.

“You got me off,” you say. Though the accompanying shrug of your shoulders is nonchalant, your heart is thundering beneath your ribcage. “Seems only fair, don’t you think?”

You undo his belt and flick open the button of his black trousers. Harry groans as you palm him over his slacks, sinking into the plush pillows cradling his head.

“Right,” he breathes. “Only fair.”

His cock twitches when you dip your hand into his boxers, and God, he thinks to himself as he shudders, he loves you.

~*~

You awaken in the middle of the night to sounds of restless shuffling. Your room is dark, engulfed in black. Blinking the sleep from your vision, you push yourself up, peering around and waiting for your eyes to grow accustomed to the obscurity of your surroundings.

The spot next to you on your mattress is still a bit warm, covered with wrinkled sheets. When you finally zero in on the source of the noise, you find Harry sitting in the armchair a few feet away from your bed. He’s slouching, his head supported only by a closed fist. His white shirt is draped over his shoulders, completely unbuttoned. Gray boxers sit low on his hips, revealing a pair of ferns inked into the skin just above his pelvis.

Not even five hours ago, you trailed your tongue along those very same tattoos.

“Harry?” you say groggily, and he freezes. “What—what are you doing?”

His eyes are bright, despite the encompassing darkness.

“I—,” he hesitates. “It’s alright. Go back to sleep.”

“Not unless you join me,” you retort. You slide your legs over the edge of the mattress so that you can face him properly. “What’s going on?”

He shrugs, avoiding your gaze. “We kind of just passed out, and…I wasn’t sure if you were comfortable with me, like, sleeping in your bed. I didn’t wanna cross any lines.”

You balk.

“Harry…,” you start, fixing him with a drowsy yet bewildered look. “You’ve literally had your fingers inside of me, and now you’re worried about crossing a line?”

A quiet chuckle of accountability falls from his lips; the sound makes you smile. You reach out with one hand, wiggling your fingers at him and tilting your head toward the rumpled pillows waiting for you.

“Come back to bed.” Your request is soft.

The storm in his eyes dissipates, and he obeys.

You sigh as you settle back underneath the duvet, snuggling into his side and tossing a leg over his thighs. Harry wraps his good arm around you, craning his neck and pressing a tender kiss to your hair. Your fingers creep up his chest, toying with the dog tag resting between his pectorals.

“Is this going to change things between us?” you ask in a small voice.

A long moment of silence ensues.

At last, Harry replies:

“I don’t know.”

You were expecting that kind of answer, but it still stings. A big part of you wants him to say no, things won’t change. He’ll still have you, and you’ll still have him, and the two of you will still bicker back and forth like children fighting over a candy bar. He’ll still roll his eyes at your antics whilst nevertheless being willing to take a bullet for you. You’ll still tease him relentlessly to mask the way your heart races whenever he’s around (which, unfortunately, is all the time).

But the logical side of your brain knows that those fantasies are just fabrications of flimsy, wishful thinking. The two of you have crossed a line—just like he said—and you can’t go back.

As though he can sense your inner turmoil, Harry squeezes you closer into his side. “I was looking online…,” he begins, and you peer up at him with curious eyes.

He meets your gaze—his chin creases adorably—and continues. “And I saw these cool photos of someone’s nails; they painted little cherries on them.”

“That sounds cute,” you mumble.

“It was.” He nods. “And I was thinking that maybe, on Wednesday…would you want to try something like that?”

Warmth spiderwebs through your chest.

The two of you have crossed a line, and you can’t go back.

But you can move forward. And perhaps better things are waiting on the horizons up ahead.

“It might not turn out like the pictures,” you warn lightly. “I’ve never really done nail art before.”

“That’s alright,” Harry says, brushing your hair out of your face. “I just thought it’d be fun to give it a go.”

You lean up, slotting your lips against his. Harry cups your cheek, keeping you close. When the two of you finally break apart, you smile, running your thumb lovingly over the edge of his jaw.

“Remind me to pick up the tools tomorrow after class.”

~*~

READ PART 2 ON PATREON