#lately i feel like i have no brain bc it was really hot until recently and also my usual fucking. thoughts i carry have been kinda.

[chemicalbrew]

shout-out to my friends sending me shit

[starrypawz]

Casual affection 19. Tugging the others clothes to keep them close

AO3 (Also apparently this prompt has been sitting in my inbox since June 2021, better late than never I guess?) Anyway have some @the-passenger-if boys spooning bc why not.

Jonny’s just about to move off the foot of the bed when he feels a light tug on his sleeve and sits back down. “And where do you think you’re going?” Lucas’ voice is soft

“It’s late?”

“And?”  and he nuzzles into his shoulder and Jonny feels a softness fall over him that’s becoming incredibly familiar and up until recently would’ve likely made him feel sick to think about. “I should… go?” 

“Do you want to go?” “I…” Jonny sighs, “No-”

“Then stay?” Lucas’ hands slip around his waist and Jonny feels himself tense for a moment before he relaxes into his touch. 

Jonny had woken up before Lucas. For a few hazy moments he’d wondered why he’s not staring at familiar posters and then his gaze shifts and… that’s not where his bedroom door usually is and… this bed feels bigger wait… where the fuck am I?

And his brain was sleepily trying to do what apparently was some very advanced maths to work out exactly where the hell  he was he’d heard a sleepy sigh and something or more someone shifted against him and there’s a brush of soft hair against his arm not to mention the warm skin he can feel under his hand and Jonny briefly wonders if this is a dream until a trickle of memories sleepily roll through his mind and a few moments later bring a flush to his cheeks and apparently his brain is having a much harder time accepting this part of his new reality than all the weird shit that  happened on Lunar Ridge and-

“Mmm… morning darlin’”

“Waking up with you was nice-” Jonny swallows, “Really nice,”

Jonny hears a soft sigh as Lucas wraps his arms around his waist harder, enough so he feels his t-shirt ride up and Jonny tenses and moves to pull his shirt back down but then feels Lucas’s fingers lightly brush the exposed skin of his stomach with a chuckle and he squirms.

“Newman-” 

“Come to bed?” Lucas’ lips are just close enough to his ear that Jonny shudders as Lucas loosens his grip and lightly tugs the back of t-shirt collar for good measure. 

Jonny feels and hears the movement of the bed and turns his head to find Lucas lying on his side, his smile soft as he taps the empty part of the bed before he raises his eyebrows. Jonny shakes his head and gives a snort that sounds suspiciously close to a chuckle before he awkwardly shifts himself long the bed until he finds himself nose to nose with Lucas. 

“That’s better,” Lucas grins and gently grabs at his shirt again as he pulls him in for a kiss that Jonny finds he melts into way too easily and he’s not sure what to do with his hands (still) before he settles them on the small of Lucas’ back. 

He presses a kiss to the top of Lucas’ head and gets a small, soft sigh in response that brings back that almost sickening softness. He expects Lucas to tuck under his chin like the last time but instead he slips out of his grip and before he can get out a confused “Lucas?” he finds Luca’s chest pressed against his back. 

“Oh,” 

Jonny shifts as he relaxes into Lucas’ touch. The softness has taken him so much he’s practically metlying by this point like a forgotten about chocolate bar on a hot day. And he’s not quite sure why he has to swallow down a lump in his throat and why he suddenly has to blink a couple of times

“This… feels nice,” Jonny sighs, “Really nice,”

“Good,” Lucas gives a slight squeeze, “Pull the blanket up?” 

Jonny awkwardly does so and sighs softly as he feels Lucas shift against him. 

“Night darlin-” 

[kageyamatobiyogurt]

day 8: haikyuu boys building a snowman ☃️

a/n: somethings wrong with my blog and i’m trying not to be sad about it :’/// tumblr support pls pull through edit: ITS FIXED

back to event masterlist!

includes: tendou, ushijima, bokuto, miya twins, kita

tendou:

idk but something about him refuses to be normal???

he makes his snowman upside down???

he puts the largest ball of snow on top while the stick arms go from the middle ball to the ground

he makes it look like the snowman is doing a handstand pls

tendou goes really simple with the face too, just using two rocks and and a stick broken into three pieces to form a mouth like :D

pls he adds stick legs that poke out too so the snowman’s really just outstretched and excited-looking

the kids at the park come by to approach his creation

“he’s upside down! that’s so cool!” they cry out, eyes wide in fascination

he winds up staying extra long at the park to help kids build their own 🥺

ushijima:

i feel like he kind of got dragged to the park by tendou

he helps with tendou’s snowman if he needs it

but wakatoshi brings this little extra thing he’s had since he was a kid

and it’s one of those snow duck molders

PLS imagine this 6 foot something man squatting down in the snow to make little ducks i-

he’s so precise with it

the kids at the park also enjoy this and he winds up making one for most of them

not people later on finding this army of ducks in the middle of the park 😩🤚🏽

anyways tendou and ushijima best bros

bokuto:

was a little late to the snowman game

but he also didn’t want to miss out on something everyone else did

he starts making his two days after it snowed so there’s kind of just dirty snow left

yk the mushy and dirty snow

HIS COMES OUT LOWKEY SCARY PLSS

the snow around the eyes is somehow dark so they eye sockets look spooky and not merry

also tried to form a smile with the hot chocolate he had and the mouth just looks garbled

a kid sees it and kind of rushes away

he didn’t pay attention until another kid comes by, sees the damn thing, and starts crying to their mom 💀

PLS our baby bokuto gets so emo

he just wanted try what ushijima and tendou did

calls akaashi to pick him up and unfortunately akaashi cannot lie about how it looks

the only thing akaashi can come up with is to build another snowman together, even though this one winds up much smaller

miya twins:

i’ve been having fun writing about them together recently hehe

another two who also refuse to be normal

their particular goal this year is to build an abnormally large snowman

PLS the base alone is like five feet wide and five feet tall

they gotta roll the snowballs together because it’s so damn heavy

best believe they bicker during this even though they came up with this together

“‘samu yer not even helping me push-”

“shut up, yer talkin’ more than yer pushin!”

someone probably lands on their ass in the snow before this gets completed ngl

they also gotta ask kita for help at some point to actually lift the torso of the snowman bc it’s just heavy as heck

luckily the head of the snowman is possible to lift but the tip of the torso is too high to reach

so as big-brained individuals, atsumu gets osamu to go on his shoulders for the extra height

kita know this is a bad idea

these two idiots fall over backwards first and they gotta re-roll the head

“atsumu ya gotta keep steady!”

“‘ts hard keepin’ steady when yer ass is so heavy!”

with extra (needed) assistance they finally get the damn thing on top

kita also told them to add the facial features before putting it on top to make their lives easier

finally, they use these thicc branches for the arms and these stones the size of their fists for the buttons

the snowman is menacingly large pls and the twins high-five at the end like they didn’t almost kill each other making it

ofc they get a final picture with one twin on either side, both holding a thumb up

it stands in the neighborhood park for two weeks bc it takes so long to melt

winds up on a lot of people’s social media lmao

kita:

okay here comes my best boy kita agenda

while the twins goof off, he figures there’s nothing else to do so he embarks on his own snowman journey

actually makes it like a normal person

he rolls the base around 2 feet, and forms the torso and head accordingly

it’s pretty simple

he gets sticks for the arms and he makes the facial expression with sticks too, making his snowman wink

it’s very cute (like him)

he also makes a top hat out of snow

the twins are totally not jealous

takes a selfie with his creation to show his grandma later 🥺 (somehow he got the twins bickering in the background)

[ppersonna]

make me - myg | m

strawberries on a summer evenin'. baby, you're the end of June. i want your belly and that summer feelin', getting washed away in you - watermelon sugar, harry styles

↳ summary- an ordinary sleepover with your best friend turns into anything but ordinary, thanks to your ridiculously loud neighbors above you.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+ / nc17

↳ word count- 4.4k

↳ pairing- yoongi x reader

↳ genre-  pwp lol, smut, fluff, somehow the dirtiest fluff i have ever written bc there’s some depraved shit in here

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), unprotected sex (dont...pls), dirty talk, rough sex, degrading talk, dom/sub undertones, bratty backtalk

↳ a/n- yooooo dawg this... was fun.  i hope you enjoy!!  ive been in my yoongi feels lately uwu. feel free to comment, message, dm, whatever u want babes.  i love you!

Yoongi thinks if he has to hear your upstairs neighbors fuck for another minute longer he might actually go crazy.

It’s been hours now.  The girl is screaming like a feral cat and the man is doing a terrible impression of a porn star, trying his best to talk dirty but really just calling the howling banshee awful names.  

If only his dick would be as annoyed as his brain.

He knows you’re awake next to him too.  The steady rise and fall of your breathing changed when the bad porn above you began—now it’s faint and too quick to indicate anything but your wakefulness.

“Ohhhhh oppa!” The girl above you screams.

It’s finally what breaks down the silence in your bedroom.  At her wanton sound, you and Yoongi are unable to stop yourselves from bursting into laughter.

Yoongi’s stomach hurts from laughing so hard.  Tears form at the corners of his eyes as you make the bed rumble from the force of your combined laughter.

“God, do they think that sounds hot?” You finally ask after settling down to mere giggles.

Yoongi shrugs and wipes away his tears. “Apparently.  He must like the way she sounds like a dying cat.”

His comment sends you into a spiral of laughter again, and you’re clinging to your chest as it heaves with exertion.

Yoongi is your best friend for a reason.  No one makes you laugh as hard as he does.  No one understands you the way he seems to be able to—it’s almost intuitive the way he can understand your feelings.  

You live for your weekly sleepovers.  You drink wine, watch terrible horror films, gossip about your other friend’s love lives, and fall asleep in your bed together.  It’s never been anything but blissful.

Until recently…

When your heart decided it would beat too fast around him.  When your brain decided to spin and weave stories of romance with your best friend.

Now, you can’t hardly think about anything else around the dirty blonde haired boy.  It’s overwhelming to all of your senses when you see him, feel him near you.  You want to kiss him, to love him, to tear his clothing off.

Which makes lying in your full size bed while the neighbors above you fuck and attempt to act out their wildest fantasies—badly—so much harder than usual.

“God,” Yoongi sighs and tugs the blanket up to his chin. “Does she even like it or do you think she’s faking it?”

You wrinkle your nose in disgust. “Ugh, I know I wouldn’t be into it.”

“You don’t like dirty talk?” He teases with a poke to your stomach.  It makes an eruption of nerves go off in your chest.

“Oh, no I do. But that’s not dirty talk,” you shrug. “He’s just being mean. There’s no sensuality underneath it.”

He hums and lays back down to stare at the ceiling.

“Give me an example,” he asks of you. It makes your cheeks flush red and you’re thankful for the darkness in your room to provide you cover.

“Um, well,” you cough awkwardly. “He’s saying shit like ‘you fuck anything don’t you?’ which, maybe she’s into degradation, but I’m not. Not that extreme.”  Your explanation sounds lame, but you continue anyway. “I prefer to hear things like ‘this slutty little pussy belongs to me’.  Possessive and hot at the same time without being too...uhh...hurtful.”

Yoongi feels his cock rise with piquing interest. There’s a nagging guilt about thinking of his best friend this way, and a tinge of jealousy thinking someone who isn’t him has said that to you.

He feels his throat dry up, and you wring your hands nervously on the blanket. The moaning above you doesn’t stop, and you can hear the telltale sound of flesh slapping on flesh, indicating they’ve commenced into penetration and it makes your body throb with annoyance, and with want.

There’s moments when a louder slap echoes through the room—it’s clear the man is slapping her somewhere—and she whines desperately.  Your core starts building that familiar heat, a slickness gathering you can’t stop. You press your thighs together tight and squirm as subtly as you can. You pray Yoongi doesn’t notice.  

Yoongi, however, does notice.  He breathes a sigh of relief internally knowing he’s not the only being affected by the commotion above. But he doesn’t understand the meaning behind it. For all he knows, you’re just turned on because—well, because it’s sex and it’s loud and who wouldn’t be a little turned on? You’re likely not at all aroused by him, or the thought of him. Right?

Another slap echoes through the room and you can tell by the way the girl gasps that her partner slapped her in the face.

“Damn,” you shiver.  Yoongi turns to peek at you through the darkness.

“You into that?” He asks curiously. “Face slapping?”

It’s hard to swallow for a moment—it feels like you’re trying to down a boulder.

“Uh, yeah,” you whisper. “Yeah, I like pain.”

Yoongi doesn’t reply and it makes you fear you’ve overstepped the line. You’ve gone too far off the ‘best friend’ track and the whole train is about to de-rail.

You’re opening your mouth to apologize for taking it too far when Yoongi finally speaks.

“Fuck it,” he sighs. “You want to fuck louder and establish dominance?”

The world stops turning.  You’re sure that gravity doesn’t exist anymore and the theory of relativity has been proven wrong.

Did Min mother fucking Yoongi, your best friend of over twenty years, just offer to have sex with you to...establish dominance over the neighbors above you attempting to make a cheap porn?

He’s looking at you normally, but there’s a glimmer in his eye that says more.  It says he wants you.  Your stomach twists in on itself.  There’s no way, there is no actual plausible way that the man beside you feels the same way about you as you do.

“You want to have sex with me?”

Yoongi’s cheeks turn pink and he looks away for a minute.

“I also want to date you,” he murmurs.  

If you thought the world ended before, you’re sure this is the fiery explosion that brings a new earth into life with a bang.

The noises from upstairs interrupt the romantic moment with a scream, a guttural howl from the man, and then muffled whispers and sighs.

“What do you say we keep them up all night too?” His mouth turns to a smirk as he awaits your reply.

“Yeah,” you nod as you throw the blankets off you.  “Fuck those guys, lets show them what real kinky sex looks like.”

Yoongi’s eyes turn feral as he works his eyesight down your body.  Your normal sleepwear outfit of a tank top and shorts looks like lingerie to him now and he’s salivating at the way he can see the curve of your breasts, and the press of your hard nipples against the fabric.

You’re throwing yourself onto Yoongi’s body in an instant, pinning him down to the bed and pressing your lips to his.  You waste no time in waiting for him now that you know—now that you’ve heard with your two ears that Min Yoongi not only wants to fuck you, but date you as well.   No use wasting any more time—the time for action is now.

The kiss is hot and Yoongi’s hands falter for a moment in surprise before he’s coming to his senses and tugging at your tank top quickly to pull it off your body.  His hands feel hot on the bare skin of your back, rubbing at your spine and up to your shoulders.  It makes you shiver, and you slide your tongue into his mouth to explore the heat inside.  

His hands navigate forward to cup your breasts, fingers toying with your nipples—pinching and pulling and rolling between the pads of his fingers.  It has you keening into his touch and grinding down on his basketball-shorts-covered cock. 

Yoongi pulls away from you and pulls at a nipple harshly, which makes you gasp out loud.

“It’s real cute how you think you’re in charge right now,” he points out.  “Real fucking cute.  It’s gonna make me almost feel bad for punishing you.”

You’re sure your soul is going to leave your body at hearing your best friend’s sexy baritone voice verbalize your dirtiest fantasies.  If this is how you react now…, may God have mercy on your poor little pussy.

Yoongi thinks he’s possibly never been harder than he is right now.  His best friend, best girl, is sitting atop his boner and he’s twisting your pretty nipples so hard they’ll surely turn purple soon.  You sound so sweet when you whine, and you’re starting to whine louder as he continues the pressure on your tits.

“You thought you could take control, didn’t you?” He asks, slipping further and further into the dominant act.  He loves this, thrives off it.  He didn’t think you’d ever be into it—none of the girls he’s dated before have—and he’s thrilled he doesn’t have to hide this depraved part of himself.

You nod and bite your lip, wincing as he tugs once more on a nipple before letting go.

“Cute,” he sighs.  “But wrong.”

In an instant, he flips you two over and he feels his heart and cock swell at the sight of your sweet eyes widening at the quick change.  

“This feels better, don’t you think?” He asks.  You nod and he shakes his head.  “Answer me, baby doll.  You’re already about to get punished.  You wouldn’t want to make me not let you cum, would you?”

The fear in your eyes increases and you clear your throat to talk.

“No sir, I don’t want that.”  

Yoongi nearly moans.  Hearing you call him sir, being underneath him—it’s his wet dreams come to life.

“Then tell me,” he instructs. “Tell me you need me in charge.”

You’re dying to be a brat, really wanting to pull Yoongi completely out of his shell, show him the full extent of what he can do to you.  Plus, you really wanna give your neighbors a show—a taste of their own medicine, don’t you?

“What if I don’t want to?” You tease.

Yoongi’s grin turns wider and his eyes sparkle with knowing. He’s a through and through brat-tamer, and by the end of the night you’ll be crying for forgiveness.

“Little tease,” he growls as he leans down to latch his mouth on your abused nipple.  

You gasp out loud, and it turns into desperate mewling as his teeth nibble and pull.  You’ll be bruised up for days, surely.  He sucks hard, pulls on it roughly and bites with meaning. You just know your panties are completely soaked.

“Talking back to me, huh? You think that’s going to get you where you want to go tonight, little girl?”

He turns his attention to your other nipple, eyes peering into yours as you struggle to answer with the sizzle of pain in your breast.

“What are you gonna do about it?” You send back with a shake of your hips under him.

The growl he delivers around your nipple and the quick bite makes you yelp.

“I think I should shut that loud mouth of yours up.”

You smile in response and his fingers tug down your shorts.  You lift your hips and allow him to pull the clothing off and you’re left in your slicked up panties.

“Oh yeah?” You retort.  “You gonna shut me up with that fat cock?”

Yoongi visibly shivers. His spine tingles deliciously for minutes after the hair on his neck settles.  He’s dreamed of you like this, under him and begging to be put in your place.  And now, here you are.  And he can’t wait to make it a reality.  He’s even forgotten about the loud neighbors.  It’s now just all about you.

“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Dirty little slut so horny to get her mouth on my cock.”

Yoongi allows a finger to trail down your clothed slit, and he outwardly groans at how wet you are.  You’re unable to hold back your whimpers of need—he’s so close to where you need him most and where you’ve dreamed of having him.

“You talk a big game for someone who’s drenched before I’ve even done anything,” Yoongi says with a smirk.

Your legs tremble as he pulls your panties to the side to expose your drenched folds. He dips a finger in and touches your clit. You moan in unison—he’s captivated by the heat and slick, you’re feeling air escape your lungs with every swirl of his finger.

“Y-Yoongi,” you whine.  He tsks and pulls his finger out.

“That’s not my name right now.” His hands start to slide your panties down and your stomach leaps with excitement.

“Sir, please.”

“Now you want to be my good girl?” He asks with a chuckle. “Where’s my mouthy little brat who wants my cock to shut her up?”

He leans back on his heels and watches you eye him. You’re nearly bursting at the seams. You’re naked while he remains completely clothed and while you’d normally feel exposed and vulnerable, all you feel is white hot heat. You’re burning for Yoongi, for him to do what you’ve dreamt he could do.

“Why don’t you show me what that sweet mouth can do?”  

He maneuvers to stand at the side of the bed, dick straining against the mesh of his shorts. He waits for you to sit up, which you wordlessly obey.  His cock is now eye level with you, and your mouth feels dry. You’ve dreamt about this dick, about what it looks like and how it would feel in your hand, inside you. The fact that you’re here now, about to find out all your secret fantasies is heady.

Your hand rubs at the straining material, over the thickness of his cock. He feels big, and you give it a squeeze which makes him hiss.

“Still being a tease,” he sighs with faux disappointment. “You’re in a precarious position to be such a little cocktease.  Might need to fuck that right out of you.”

It makes you whimper—his direct threats sounding like smooth promises going straight to your core.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Yoongi growls and grabs a bit of your hair, tugging your head back to look at him in the eyes.

“I think you should shut this fucking mouth up.”  His voice is dark, and his eyes glow with lust.

A grin pulls over your face as you gaze sweetly up at him—his hand still gripped tight in your hair.

“Make me.”

Yoongi is silent for a moment as he stares at you in wonder—his beautiful girl, so rebellious and yet so willing to comply.

“I fucking love you, you little fucking slut.”

Yoongi forces his shorts down and grips your chin, holding it hard in his hand.

“Now choke on my fucking cock.”

You open your mouth complacently and he wastes no time in shoving his entire length down your throat mercilessly.  

It’s hot. It feels like fucking heaven.  Your lips wrap around him and suction and he can feel your gag reflex straining against his tip at the back of your throat.  Yoongi thinks his entire spine is tingling with desire for you and the way you take his cock so well has his toes curling.

You didn’t even get to have a good look at Yoongi’s cock before it was shoved into your throat, but now that it’s there you don’t even need to see it to knows he is fucking thick and long. It stretches your mouth and you know your pussy will be taken to its limit when he finally buries himself inside you where he rightfully belongs.

“Can’t talk back now, can you?” He teases as he begins to fuck your throat. “Mmmm shit—, you suck my cock so fucking good.”

His words are nothing but encouragement for you and you fight back the growing discomfort in your throat and allow him to use it as he pleases.  Tears form in your eyes and slip down your face at the exertion and you soon feel his balls slap at your chin.  You’ve only fantasized of being used like this by Yoongi, and now it’s actually fucking happening.  You’ll be damned if you don’t give him the suck of a lifetime.

Yoongi thinks he’s staring into heaven as he fucks your tight mouth and watches as your eyes fill with tears.  They leak out and he knows you’re loving this just as much as he is by the palpable enthusiasm you accept his cock with.

“Look at my little brat,” he coos mockingly. “Not so big and brave now, are you?  Not with daddy’s cock wrecking your hot mouth.”

He picks up the pace and the sounds turn disgustingly lewd.  It’s a wet, slurping sound as Yoongi forces his cock in and out of your drooling mouth.  Saliva drips onto the bed below you as you take him all, never given a chance to breathe or swallow.  Yoongi takes and you selflessly give. You’d allow the man to split you in half—and you’re actively hoping he does just that tonight.

Suddenly, Yoongi is pulling out of your mouth and leaving you panting and keening for more. He grips his cock with a fist.  He strokes himself roughly and looks down at you.

“Gonna cum, baby girl. Fucking beg for it.”

Your hands grip at his thighs and you’re breathing hard to catch up on the oxygen you were denied.  But it doesn’t stop you from doing exactly as he orders.

“Please, daddy. Please cum on my face.  Let me taste your cum, I want to know what you taste like.  Cum on me.  Mark me, daddy.”

Yoongi whines and increases the speed of his pumps. His mouth falls open as he watches you pout so sweetly and wait so eagerly for his seed on your face. He wants to see your entire body covered in his cum and he plans on ensuring that happens sooner rather than later.

“My eager little bitch. Wants her daddy to mark his territory.”

You nod, tongue sticking out and wagging like a dog for his cum.

“Please, daddy.  Make me messy.”

It seems to be the secret password to Yoongi’s climax. Your desperation, your eager position, the way you beg so sweetly.  It sends him right over the edge and he cries out as his cock pulses white stripes over your pretty face.  

He wishes he could take a picture of the way his cum covers your face.  He’d make it his background photo so he could see it every day, show everyone around him the gorgeous little whore he gets to cum on every night.

“Shit, babygirl,” he groans as he attempts to catch his breath.  “Look at you.”

You smile as your tongue retreats into your mouth and you savor the drops that landed on your tongue.  Your eyes close in bliss as you enjoy the flavor, noting it tastes salty and sweet and you can’t wait to reacquaint yourself with the taste over and over again.

“Lay back,” he orders as he pushes his shorts all the way off.  

In his haste to fuck your throat, he only pushed them halfway.  He slips out of them and pulls his shirt off before he joins you on the bed.

“Let me drink this cunt.”

You whimper in agreement as you press your back in to the pillows and spread open your legs.

“Please, daddy.”

He grins as he lowers himself to lie between your legs.  He blows on it, cool air pushing over your folds chilling you.

“Fuck,” he sighs.  “Greedy little cunt wants it all, hm?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“So compliant for me now,” he whispers as he kisses your thighs. “I like it when you behave.”

He kisses in further, and soon he’s using his fingers to spread apart the folds and pressing the flat of his tongue to your clit and laving it over the aching nub.

“Holy shit,” he groans as he comes up and sucks his tongue back into his mouth.  “Sweetest little pussy.”

You can’t reply, the capability to speak has left you now.  He buries his face back into your cunt and gets to work.  His tongue starts flicking against the bundle of nerves and then dips down to fuck into your channel.  He works his tongue around you and your back arches off the bed and your heels dig into the mattress.  You seek purchase in his hair with your hands, digits gripping at the blonde locks between your thighs.  

Yoongi groans and moans into your cunt, and soon he slips two fingers in to fuck you roughly.

He pulls his lips away and licks his tongue over them to collect the slick that lingers.  His fingers maintain a quick pace and he drinks in the sight of you gasping at the stretch.

“Yeah, look at you take my fucking fingers.  Such a wanton little whore for me.”

He slides another finger in to join, then another, and it makes your cries echo loudly around the room.  He suddenly remembers the neighbors above you and smirks.  He pulls his hands from you, making you keen with desire and desperately beg for more.

“Daddy! Please, I need..” you gasp. “Need you!”

He pulls himself up to join your hips together and rolls his them against each other.  His cock rubs against your soaked pussy and he bites his lip at the feel of it getting slicked up.

“I want you to be nice and loud for me, baby girl,” he demands sweetly in your ear as he licks the shell.  He notes your shiver and smirks, before kissing your ear lightly.  “Tell those mother fuckers upstairs who’s going to take you to Hong Kong.”

“Yes, daddy,” you agree.  

It only takes the consent to leave your lips for Yoongi to spear his cock into you.  He’s not slow or gentle, he pushes it into the hilt immediately.

Yoongi meant to start a pace, to begin fucking into you mercilessly, but he’s frozen inside your tight heat.  You feel so good, so fucking tight and warm and wet for him.  It’s better than heaven, and surely better than any pussy he’s been inside before.  Maybe it’s because it’s you, and no one else.

“Fuck!” He gasps. “Holy shit I could cum right now.”

You whine and move your hips desperately.

“Fuck me daddy! Fuck me hard, please!  Use me like your little cock sleeve.”

Yoongi bites his lip and feels his cock pulse.

“Shit, you’ve got a dirty fucking mouth,” he grits. “Let’s see if you’ve got a dirty little pussy too.”

He sets a pace, desperately wills his cock not to cum yet.  He wants to fuck you senseless, until your eyes roll back in your head.  He’s gonna make sure you get off on his cock before he comes close to his end.

Yoongi grips your chin again, like he did at the beginning as he fucks into you roughly.

“Look at you take my fucking cock so deep,” he bites out.  “Your cunt is so fucking desperate for my fat cock, isn’t it? You need me to fuck some discipline into you.”

You’re nearly screaming now at the force of his thrusts.  He’s pushing all the way into you with each push and his balls smack against your ass deliciously.  You’re babbling, words unable to make sense as he fucks all the brain cells out of you.

“Dumb little cock slut,” he whispers as he leans down to suck a nipple into his mouth and bite at it before releasing it  “Little brat turns into a perfect little fuck hole for me, so fucking good for me.”

“Yes, y-y-yes baby! S-so close!”  

Yoongi’s had you near the verge since his oral, and now with his punishing pace and power in his driving hips, you’re hovering over the edge.

His hand drops down to rub at your clit, a circular motion that has you gasping and screaming his name.

“That’s fucking right,” he breathes. “Tell them, baby.  Tell them who’s got the best fucking cock.  Tell them who fills this pussy up so well.”

You’re eager to comply.

“You, daddy!  Fuck!  You feel so fucking thick in me.  I need your cum, please, please.  Cum on me.”

Yoongi feels his balls tighten impossibly--he knows he’s seconds away from an explosive orgasm.

“Cum on my cock, baby girl.  Let me feel you cream my fucking cock.  Wanna see you all over this fat dick.”

His free hand tugs at a nipple and pulls it punishingly, tugging it so far it pulls the skin around it.  Your screams light up the room, echoing and bouncing off the walls and surely traveling up to your neighbors bedroom.

“Yoongi! Fuck! I’m cumming!” You warn, a millisecond before your world crashes around you.  

Your cunt squeezes his cock so tightly that it causes his hips to stutter in their pace.  It grips him tight, angry like a squeezed fist and Yoongi feels the air get sucked out of his lungs as his climax follows directly after yours.  He didn’t even have a chance to pull out--he’s emptying his load into your womb and whining at the feeling of your pulsating walls milking every single drop greedily.

It’s several minutes later that you’re both caught up to normal breathing and resting beside each other on the bed.  The room is silent, save for little pants and breaths, and Yoongi reaches over to lace his fingers into yours and hold your hand tightly.

“You wanna date me?” He asks sweetly, as if his cum isn’t dripping out of your cunt as he speaks.  

It makes you laugh.  It’s so classically Yoongi that you can’t help but to laugh.  

“Yes, daddy, I want to date you.  I want to date you every single day.”

He pulls you into his embrace and kisses at your forehead.

“Maybe we should send your neighbors some flowers for getting us together,” he teases.

As if on cue, the all too familiar sound of skin slapping against skin and screeching moans comes from upstairs and plays through your apartment like an unwanted jukebox.

“God damn it, our plan backfired.” he grumbles. “I think we turned them on.”

You press your sticky, sweaty body against him and kiss at his lips.  Your hand sneaks down to his cock and grips it again, begging it to come back to life.

“Shall we try again, then?”

[shapeshiftinterest]

Thought Process, Does Mao Mao Is Gay?: mao x considering multiple ships

mao mao heroes of pureheart pride month event

prompt mix:

prompt 1 - Questioning

side: current and possible future questioning, because sometimes ppl find a label that they vibe with more and that’s hella valid

prompt 2 - Realization

story under the read more

Thought Process, Does Mao Mao Is Gay? (also on ao3)

Mao and Badgerclops were sitting on the couch, having a lazy day watching TV. It’d been surprisingly peaceful as of late, and Adorabat was on a class field trip with her dad as one of the chaperones.

Badgerclops was laughing at one of the cooking contestants flailing about as dramatic music playing during the timed challenge.

Mao shuffled in his seat, sparing a glance to his left before looking back at the TV.

“...Hey, Badgerclops,“ he started, “do you think I’m gay?“

The cyclops in question hummed, lowering the volume and leaning back on Sofia’s armrest so he could focus on his friend. “Whaddaya mean?”

Mao mimicked the other’s pose. “I dunno, just been thinking about it recently and I think I might be gay. Maybe. Maybe not??”

Badgerclops nodded, a silent encouragement for him to continue.

“I’ve dated girls before,” he started, before grumbling under his breath, “well, one girl. But that was a long time ago.“

“I mean, I used to think maybe you were aroace and just like, super flirty by nature or something,“ Badgerclops shrugged. “Most of your attention was geared towards becoming a hero, y’know?“

Mao rested his chin on his knuckles, taking a moment to gather and reword his thoughts. 

“Sometimes I get flustered talking with the King but he’s always like that,” he said, more to himself than to Badgerclops, “I banter with Orangusnake a lot but we’re rivals so that’s normal hero business. Eugene’s pretty interesting but I’m sure it’s only because we’re looking after Adorabat, and there was that whole thing with Tanya when she visited and almost took you as a bounty...“

Mao gnawed on the index knuckle of his glove before looking up. “It’s kind of embarrassing but I’ve tried imagining myself in couple situations with guys and-.”

He sighed, picking at his gloves. “I’m not sure if it’s only guys is what I’m trying to say.”

Badgerclops nodded. “You don’t have to like girls just because you dated them in the past, I get it,“ he said, patting the cat’s shoulder. “Hmmmm. Did you feel anything when Tanya was here?“

Mao’s brow furrowed. “Irritation, frustration, some sad and confused feelings, I guess? I can’t really remember, I was more focused on getting you back.“

Badgerclops aaawwwed. “But she was hot though, right?“ Aaand moment ruined.

“Badgerclops!“ Mao blustered, sitting up and blushing. His friend just laughed  and swung a leg over, pinning the cat’s down so that both heroes were lying down on their respective couch sides with their heads against the armrests.

“Answer the question, Mao~.“

Grumbling, Mao bit out a huffy ‘yes’ and crossed his arms.

“Hehe, so we’ve established that you at least still kind of like Tanya,” Badgerclops stated, ticking a claw, “and before that, you said you like daydreaming about (and flirting with) the King, Adorabat’s dad, and the leader of the Sky Pirates.” He ticked 3 more fingers.

“Wh- I said we bantered, Badgerclops! It’s completely different!“

Badgerclops rolled his good eye.

"Oh yeah, you guys were tooootally just bantering during last week’s fight," he scoffed, crossing his arms, "was checking out his butt when his axe got stuck in the fountain part of your word battle or was it a distraction tactic on his part?"

Mao let out a string of indecipherable sounds as his partner snickered.

“Dude, Mao. The king gives you looks when the two of you ‘talk’. Looks and sass that don’t really come out when he directly talks to any of the villagers. From a third party perspective, he’s definitely flirting. Same with Orangusnake. Well,” Badgerclops made a face, remembering their recent hospital visit, “almost the same.”

“Honestly I don’t talk to Eugene all that much, but I’m pretty sure he’s been warming up to both of us. Plus, I do think you should also consider...,“ he gestured between the two of them, raising an eyebrow. 

Mao stared at his co-hero, unamused. 

Badgerclops repeated the gesture, this time wiggling the eyebrow and giving a suggestive hum.

Mao snorted, giving a few half hearted kicks to the other’s leg until the other freed him. The two sat up and faced the TV again.

“Maybe,“ Badgerclops said, “you’re bi, instead of like, being into guys, specifically.“

Mao blinked, heroic brain thinking about what his companion just said. “Huh. Maybe you’re right.” He glanced at his friend and smiled, before going back to watch the screen. “Thanks, Badgerclops.”

Badgerclops raised the volume back up. “No problem, dude.” He grinned, wrapping an arm around Mao as he leaned into his side. The cat’s head rested on his chest as his ears brushed against the taller’s cheek. 

They stayed like that until both of them fell asleep.

________________________________________________________________

this is semi based on how i talk out my problems to my siblings sometimes

the couple situation is an actual thing i did when i was questioning if i liked guys and girls or just girls, in possible romantic ways

so like, could i realistically imagine and be ok with holding hands, kissing, just lying next to a person, having them touch my hair or something if they were a girl vs a guy if i HAD to be in a relationship with someone

bonus stuff i wasn’t sure how to write in:

mao and BC were holding hands while watching the TV before this conversation

mao has had dreams of him and BC living together before coming to PHV, and even after living there

mao and BC are both bi leaning towards men in this fic (badgerclops already knows about himself)

overall vibe is badgermao but they’re not dating (closer to queer platonic i think?), BUT neither of them would be opposed to dating the other

also if they did date each other later on in this fic they would definitely talk about the others (tanya, snugglemagne, orangusnake, eugene) and who would be their 3rd for a polyamorous kind of thing

[canonicallyanxious]

i was tagged by @thelibraryiscool for a couple of bookish related things and they looked like great fun but i completely forgot to do them until now skdjnfskdjnfs so combining into one post to kill two birds with one stone!

tagging: @tristealven @persimmonyms @boxesfullofthoughts @pronouncingitwang @kapplebougher @florawelch​ @homomrdarcy @braveveth - feel free to do one or both or none of the above!

rules: spell out either your name or username using only books or only movies that have your vibe, and tag some people.

[i did for a hot second consider doing my username for more letter options but i decided i was not about to suffer through the trials of trying to remember literally any book that starts with the letter x also obviously i’m doing books because movies what are those?????]

A Secret History by Donna Tartt [this game asked for vibes, not my favorite books, and unfortunately an incredibly pretentious story about murderous gay-coded classics majors is exactly 100% my vibe]

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Saenz

The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro

Another Country by James Baldwin

Her Body and Other Parties: Stories by Carmen Maria Machado

-

#54321 Challenge

5 books I’m loving/have loved: [I’m assuming this means recently??? unfortunately i have not had the brain cells for reading as of late so i’m just going to name all the new novels i’ve read this year that i loved which does happen to be exactly 5 lol]

The Chosen and the Beautiful by Nghi Vo

The Traitor Baru Cormorant by Seth Dickinson [love Baru Cormorant, would love to actually fuckin finish the fuckin sequels one day]

The Thirty Names of Night by Zeyn Joukhadar

Butter Honey Pig Bread by Francesca Ekwuyasi

Light From Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki

4 auto-buy authors: [i find this rather challenging bc I honestly don’t really have favorite authors and the number of authors whose works i have all read and enjoyed is very, very low so i guess i will just list some authors that always make me perk up when i see them around]

Roxane Gay

Celeste Ng

Tamsyn Muir [whom I also know as UrbanAnchorite but that’s neither here nor there]

Ann Leckie

3 genres I love: [also a prompt i find challenging skdjnfsdkjnfs i will give pretty much any genre a stab if it’s well written but i gave this my best shot]

urban fantasy

coming of age [does this count as a genre???? it does now]

sci-fi [i tend to prefer sci-fi on the softer side or stories that are not fully sci-fi but have sci-fi elements but harder sci-fi can be great fun too. i almost put cyberpunk as a genre but i realized i like cyberpunk better in visual media than as a literary genre lol]

2 places I love to read: 

Near a body of water, preferably with shade and a decent seat that won’t give me a back ache [will take: beaches, poolsides, river banks, boats on the ocean, puddles of rain, etc.]

In a city I don’t live in, preferably while traveling by myself or at a quiet cafe or park where no one will bother me

1 book/series I promised to read: 

Middlemarch by George Elliot, which is more of a promise to myself than anything else. I have had this book in my backlog for a year and a half now since i first started reading it. i don’t want to talk about it.

[h4nsoluvr]

mark tuan ↠ gamer boy

neighbours au! 

word count: 1815

so you had just moved into a new apartment 

it’s a totally new city to you, so to say that you were excited was an understatement

the building complex was kinda old but for the location the price was a total bargain

anyways the past three days you had spent unpacking all of your belongings into your new home

luck had unfortunately not been on your side, the moving helpers you had hired cancelled on you last minute which left you to do all the heavy-duty stuff on your own

therefore on the third day of unpacking you were completely exhausted, realising all you energy had ran out for the day you decided to order takeaway for dinner and have a shower

having just finished your shower, you chuck on your fluffiest socks and pyjamas, hopping into bed whilst playing a podcast through your headphones

just as you can feel yourself drifting off to sleep you hear a voice

“WHAT THE HECK?!”

sighing you pull the duvet up over your head, turning to the other side as you try to fall asleep

however five minutes later

“GO TO THE LEFT, HE’S TO THE LEFT! BAMBAM YOU’RE SUCH A-”

“right, that is it.” you mutter to yourself

groaning you abruptly lug yourself out of bed, not even bothering to change as you exit your apartment, storming down the hallway to next door in the direction you heard the noise

you can hear the same voice from inside when you knock aggressively on the door

suddenly there’s silence

a moment later you hear the unlock of the door, in front of you standing is a tall, brown haired boy dressed in sweatpants

“hey...” he says in a soft spoken voice, gently brushing the hair away from his eyes

for a moment you practically malfunctioned at the realisation that you were standing in front of this incredibly attractive guy in your mickey mouse socks and matching pyjama’s

“um...hi,” you eventually manage to say, “do you have a younger brother or something living with you? i just moved in next door and i can’t sleep with all the shouting.”

“err, my bad that was me.” your handsome neighbour admits, awkwardly scratching the back of his head

“oh really? sorry i just assumed- well you don’t seem like the type be loud and yelling.”

“well you’d be surprised.” he replied, his hand immediately afterwards going to cover his mouth upon realising the innuendo, “oh my god, i really didn’t mean it like that.”

the mysterious neighbour relaxed when he noticed you snickering at what he had said

“i’m mark by the way.” he greets, extending his hand for you to shake

the moment you touch his hand you feel as though your stomach is doing backflips, “y/n”

“so you just moved in huh?” mark asks as he leans against the door frame

you nod, “yeah literally just the other day, i’m still moving stuff at the moment.”

“oh really, do you need some help tomorrow?” mark offers

you open your mouth to turn down his generous offer, when you remember how you have no friends in the area and you still have loads to unpack

also a cute guy helping you carry heavy stuff would be a plus

“you know what, i would love that actually” you say as mark gives a grin in response

and again with the fuzzy feeling inside of you

“awesome, well i won’t keep you up any longer than i already have. again really sorry about earlier the walls are really think here so i’ll try to keep it down”

“honestly it’s fine mark, think of you helping me as payback. goodnight” you give him a small wave as you walk back down the corridor to your apartment door, fumbling for you keys when you hear mark call out to you again

“goodnight y/n, liking the pyjamas by the way!”

and just like that you and mark clicked instantly clicked and became friends

on the day that he helped you unpack you learnt a lot about him, like how he was an avid gamer (hence the yelling from his apartment) 

you even began to hang out at his place with a few of his other friends, like bambam and yugyeom

those two were both little shits but it was amusing to watch the way they’d make fun of their older friend

mostly you’d all hang out and watch tv together

“hm i don’t like her” you’d say, pointing to a character on the tv show you were watching as you chuck a piece of popcorn into you mouth. “what, how can you not like her?!” yugyeom gasps, “she’s kind of hot too.” bambam chimes in as yugyeom rolls his eyes. you just shrug in response

“well i agree with y/n. there’s something off about her i just know it.” mark says as he lifts up his hand to high five you

and to your dismay your little crush on mark developed into a much bigger one, you found that the more you got to know him the more you liked him

you didn’t really enjoy the feelings you had for them as you never thought he would reciprocate them to instead you chose to suppress them as much as you could

but little did you know mark felt just as strongly as you as you did about him

“come on bam, do me this favour man!” mark pleads, trying to persuade bambam with puppy dog eyes. “you know that won’t work on me.” bambam chuckles

“well how else am i supposed to tell her i like her?” mark groans in an exasperated tone

mark had come up with a plan, but he knew he had to be slightly intoxicated in order to have the courage to ask you out

but for his plan to work he needed an opportunity, hence him begging bambam to throw a party

eventually (after a lot of annoyance from mark), bambam agrees, bc how could he say no to party?

maybe also because he had noticed the way you would sneak glances at mark when he wasn’t looking

after receiving the invite from bambam you couldn’t wait to have some fun and let you hair down as work had been kind of hectic for you recently

so when saturday came around you made a conscious effort to dress up for the occasion, before leaving you look at yourself in the mirror and low-key check yourself out

and damn you clean up pretty well

you arrived at the party an hour or so late (as bambam had previously told you that’s the only right way to rock up to a party), but as soon as you entered the party was already pretty packed

“hey! y/n!” you heard yugyeom call out to you over the volume of the music, scanning the crowd until you spot yugyeom waving you over

“see that you’ve taken a page out of bam’s book by turning up late.” yugyeom laughs,  “i got this for you” he continues, handing you one of the cups in his hands. you take a sip before shrugging and downing the whole drink

bc fuck it why not? you were there to have fun

“jeez, y/n does not play around does she?” bambam joins you two, slinging an arm over your shoulder and greeting you. before you can ask bambam nods over in the direction of the drinks table

you follow his gaze over to mark, chatting to a girl and nodding along to whatever it was she was saying 

and suddenly you felt a pang of jealousy in your chest, that you quickly tried to shrug off by suggesting shots for you and the two guys you were standing with

and of course you didn’t have to tell yugyeom and bambam twice

couple of shots later (probably more than you would like to admit), and you were dancing to the beat of the music when you felt a tap on the shoulder

“hey you.” mark says, giving you a small wave. you couldn’t help but think how hot he looked as he sipped on his drink, with a pink flush across his cheeks

“hey, there gamer boy” you reply in his ear, instantly cringing at the nickname you just used

gamer boy really y/n???? you told yourself

mark just giggles in response, “i would ask you how you’re doing but i think i already know the answer. you look good tonight though.” he acknowledges with a smile as you can feel a blush creeping up your face, “thanks.” you reply, attempting to keep a cool tone

“do you want to head out for some fresh air? i don’t know if you’ve been on bam’s balcony before but the view is pretty cool.” you rapidly respond with a yes. once you do mark grabs your wrist, leading you through the party

you kind of wished he was holding your hand instead wait what-

as soon as you made it outside you saw that mark was right, it was a pretty nice view that it almost made you breathless and the cold air almost sobered you up completely. despite it being the early hours of the morning now the city below was still illuminated and full of life

mark takes one last gulp of his drink as his eyes wander to you next to him, staring at the view in awe

“i’m really glad that i was being all noisy and loud that night you know.” mark states, breaking the silence and you give him a questioning look. “although i mean if i knew such a pretty girl would be stood at my doorstep i would’ve probably dressed a bit nicer to answer the door.”

you choke on your drink as he says this, trying to cover it up by clearing your throat, “you think i am pretty?” you ask. “yeah...” he nods, awkwardly trying to avoid your gaze

“well, i think you’re pretty too.” you say, as a shy smile crosses mark’s lips. “you know, i made bam throw this part so i could have the opportunity to kiss you. can i?” he says

instead of responding you lean into the kiss and mark mirrors you, your lips connecting as you meet in the middle, immediately melting in his touch as one of his hands reaches to cup your face

on the inside your brain was going into overdrive as you couldn’t believe this was finally happening

suddenly there is a banging on the window but you are too distracted engulfed in mark’s embrace

“ew, bam! mark and y/n are kissing!” you can hear yugyeom exclaim as bambam tries to hush him, cheering you guys on, “wait you knew about this?!” yugyeom yells as bambam tries to push him away, patting him on the back “come on yugyeom, let’s leave the lovebirds alone.”

[xnchxntmxnt]

𝐼 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑁𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑒

𝐵𝑜𝑘𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝐾𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑜 𝑋 𝐺𝑁!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

So we spin the wheel of HQ misfortune (yes, I actually have an app with all the characters I feel comfortable writing rn and spin it when I’m out of ideas) (yes it works this is how you guys get your content) and I decided Y’know what. I’m gonna make my friend happy so I made @sugasfanfics a wheel and bam it landed on Bokuto so here you go bro love u hope you like this

This is half self-indulgent half for u Em lol sorry

Remember not only are your problems valid but the way you deal with them is, too (as long as it’s not hurting yourself or anyone else, please don’t do that—). Even if it’s a fictional boy you love, remember that someone always cares about you. I promise.

Kinda half edited lol bad grammar & spelling mistakes.

CW//light swearing

Word Count: 876

Reader Info: GN!Reader, fukurodani third year student

Ao3 link

Masterlist

You’d been on edge the entire day. Who knew how it started, you just felt like hell the whole day and everything got on your nerves. Whether it was kids in class or the volleyball that collided with your shoulder while you were trying to do homework, everything seemed to want to set you off today. 

“Dammit,” you curse under your breath, rubbing your shoulder. You hit the ball back to one of the boys, who gladly picked it up with a quick “sorry!” and ran back on the court. 

You were at Bokuto’s practice—the two of you were supposed to hang out afterward, but really, you were ready to go home and sleep for several hours. You felt bad canceling, though, so just tried to keep your cool long enough to get through the rest of your evening. 

Soon enough, they broke for water and Bokuto came running over to you with a smile on his face. “(Y/N), baby, did you see that AWESOME spike? Didn't I look cool? Akaashi said I look cool!”

“I just said it was good, Bokuto.” Akaashi walked past, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Eh, same difference.” He shrugged. “Did ya see it, (Y/N)?”

 “Yeah, it was great, Bokuto.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his proud drop to a pout. You could have sworn his hair started drooping too. Rarely did you ever call him by his full name—when you did, it usually meant you were mad at him for something. 

He sat down next to you, his lower lip sticking out like a child’s. “Baby, did I...do something?” he asked, running his hand through his hair. 

“You’re fine,” you sigh. “It’s just...been a long day, alright? Not your fault.”

He nodded solemnly, offering his hand for yours. When you gave it to him, he kissed each of your knuckles, “let me make it up to you when we get to my place, okay? Parents aren’t home tonight, we can cuddle and watch a movie, yeah?”

“Alright,” you reply as he kissed your hand again. “Quit worrying about me and go be my big, strong Ace of Fukurodani, hm?”

Bokuto grinned and nodded. He took a sip of water before running back onto the court, leaving you alone with your thoughts again. 

The walk home was less enthusiastic than usual, almost like Bokuto didn’t know what to say. You let him talk as much as he wanted, but he stayed quiet for the most part, watching you intently as you walked. 

The two of you walked into his house and took off your shoes. Bokuto offered some food, but you declined, your irritation from earlier sinking into melancholia. 

“Alright, what’s wrong?” he asked, setting his school bag down. You opened your mouth to protest—he had homework to do—but he interrupted. “Homework can wait. I’m worried about you, sweetheart. Wanna talk?”

He held your shoulders, checking your face for any sign of what was wrong. He was still more droopy than normal—not his usual excited, eccentric self—and you could tell by his worried expression. 

“There isn’t much to say,” you sigh, putting your hand over one of his. “Just...long day, I guess. Burnt out.”

“Do you want a hug?”

“I wouldn’t complain about one.”

He pulled you in close, dropping his arms to wrap around your waist. You laid your forehead on his shoulder, content to stay like that for a long time. 

Just as you’d gotten comfy, he started moving, inching you backward until your legs hit the edge of his mattress. He pulled away long enough to crawl in and drag you with him. You laid your head on his chest, feeling his thumb draw shapes into your side. 

“What’s really on your mind, love?” he asked, kissing the top of your head. “I get worried when you don’t talk to me. So please do.”

“There’s not even anything specifically right now, I just...I feel like hell. For no reason. I didn’t wanna tell you because I didn’t want you worrying—“

You stopped as he tilted his head up towards you. The look he gave you made you freeze, unsure what else to say. He traced your features, smiling in encouragement. “I am always going to worry about you. That’s my job. I’m your forever-caring, amazing, loving boyfriend and I’m always going to care for you. I want you to talk to me when you feel like hell, even if it’s because you want to scream into oblivion for a while. If that’s the case, I’ll scream with you. Alright?”

“Alright,” you mumble, burying your face in his chest again. “I’ll keep it in mind. Do you want to just...I dunno, lay here? Just for now?”

“I would want nothing more.”

He kissed your head again, the small circles he drew on your arm soothing your cluttered mind. You knew you needed to talk one day—even if it was just the recent stuff without getting into in-depth character analysis of yourself—but for the time being, you knew you had someone there to help you face whatever demons you needed to. Because he always would be. 

Your precious, forever-caring, amazing, loving boyfriend, Bokuto Kotaro.

Alright you guys are welcome to scroll through this part just a little rant/apology from me

My brain has not been doing so hot lately so I can’t guarantee a constant posting schedule. I tried posting like 1-2 times a week but this is the first full thing I’ve written in several weeks and I’m sorry about that. It’s like 1:30 am when I’m writing this so this is probably gonna be jumbled up a lot but just. 

Brain hates me and I hate brain rn and it says I have No Motivation to do Anything. Only reason I got this out was bc of @sugasfanfics which she doesn’t even know I wrote this till I post it lol

Also this was supposed to be for her but like I said it kinda turned into I’m depressed and need comfort so. Yeah. Bokuto. 

I hope you guys enjoyed & I’m sorry about not writing as much as I should be. Thank you for bearing with me and for all the reblogs I can’t tell you how happy they make me. 

Sending love to you all <3

~𝑆𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟

[bopbopstyles]

3. More Than a Song

SERIES RATING: M (sex)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 9.7k

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG | ASK

Y/N promised herself she would never date a musician. It was her one rule–her only rule, actually–when it came to dating. But then, Harry Styles rolled into her life and asked her to break it, just this once. And this is what happened.

a/n: prepare for ANGST! and dunkirk premiere harry aka one of his best looks ever :) also thank u to @havethetimeofyourstyles for making my line breaks bc i’m inept at making things xoxo

pls reblog to spread the word about only exception! 🥰

“Baby,” Harry said, turning to her from where he stood in his closet. “Can you help me with my collar? I can’t get it.”

Y/N set down her phone—she was ready first, which wasn’t surprising considering it took Harry ages to get ready, partially because he kept getting distracted with her. He’d touch her, run his hands all over her, ask if he could get her out of her lingerie, and she’d have to remind him that she’d barely even had it on and they had an important event. “Sure.”

Harry looked dashing—he always did. After much debate, they had decided on a simple white silk short-sleeved button down and a pair of flared black pants, cool enough for May in LA, but still perfectly Harry. Y/N had painted his nails last night a pastel purple while they had watched a documentary about sheep—which Harry had selected—and the color popped against the neutrals of the rest of the outfit. Shoes were still up in the air, but Y/N was trying to get him to wear the yellow loafers he’d gotten recently, the ones she was so obsessed with she was considering stealing for herself.

Somehow Harry always managed to mess up his collars before big nights, the nerves probably getting to him. Y/N smoothed the material on his shoulders to relax him before popping up his collar and folding it back down crisply. “There you go.” In the mirror in front of Harry, her eyes trailed down his body, from his sweet curls she had labored over styling in the bathroom, to the recently tailored pants he wore. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed, a smile dancing onto Harry’s face at the action. “Nervous, bubs?”

He turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Bit. More for you to hear it than anyone else.”

The honesty of his statement brought butterflies to her tummy. Harry had been in and out of meetings for the past few months getting together the release of his debut album and putting the final touches on it, but at no point had he let her hear it. She suspected it was because he was scared she’d hate it, but when she asked her dad about it, he told her to think about it as his journal. His journal of a past that Y/N hadn’t been a part of. That had made Y/N understand a bit better, the prospect of being nervous of what she’d think of him more the worry than a worry of what she’d think of the music. So she nuzzled her nose into his shoulder, careful not to get lipstick on the fabric, and told him, “I’m going to love it. It’ll be perfect, just like you.”

Harry’s arms wrapped backwards so he could hold her to him and they stood there, holding one another, basking in each other’s presence before everyone else arrived. It had been a busy couple months for them to start a relationship—Y/N was swamped at work, her boss having left so she had to take on extra work, and Harry was releasing his album, Dunkirk was coming out in the summer, and his tour started in the fall. It was a lot to say the least, and Y/N tried not to think about it too often because she’d get all in her head and ignore Harry’s texts for hours until he called her and asked her if she wanted gummy worms or Hershey’s for movie night. Then, she’d remind herself that they were doing good—really good, even. Better than other relationships that she had been in for this long. Usually this was when she got bored, but with Harry she kept falling for him more and more every day they spent with each other.

He was like a drug, and she was addicted.

“We should head down,” Y/N said, brushing back from him. “Wear the yellow ones, yeah?”

He mumbled something under his breath about her being bossy and coming for Lambert’s job and she snorted, leaving him in the walk-in closet to straighten himself out. Her phone in her hand, she slipped on her heels, a summer sandal with a platform so her feet didn’t hurt, the perfect compliment to her flowing sundress she’d selected for the release party. When Harry had seen it he’d promptly asked if she could take it off so he could ravish her, so she decided it was a good choice. It emphasized her curves in a way that made her feel confident and she’d pinned her hair over one shoulder, the earrings Harry had gotten her for their three-month anniversary on display.

Re-emerging, Harry rolled his eyes over her body and she gave him a soft smile at the way his eyes screamed with desire. “See something you like?”

“Fuck yes,” he cursed. “Can’t wait to have you all to myself later.” Hands in hers, he pressed a searing kiss to her lips, the kind that made her toes curl, before pulling back. “C’mon, Azoff is yelling at me over text about being late to my own party.”

“It’s literally downstairs,” she pointed out. “He’s just mad he can’t embarrass you in front of your friends.”

Harry laughed, arm tucked around her waist as they descended the stairs of his house. He’d bought it at the end of February, a birthday gift to himself, and Y/N had thought to herself at the time that it wasn’t about her, it was about him. But it was kind of hard whenever he had her help him pick out all the furniture, making sure she approved of the colors he painted the walls and the patio furniture.

Downstairs, the party was in full force. Harry hadn’t invited too many people, mostly the same crowd as his birthday. Since it was at his house, he was hesitant to give the address out to too many people, but ultimately he wanted to be able to do whatever the fuck he wanted to celebrate, no paps around. Also, it was hot and he had a pool, so he had told everyone to bring a swimsuit just in case they wanted to take a dip. Y/N had persuaded him to keep it simple and they’d ordered pizza from his favorite place and she made some a ton of margaritas for everyone to help themselves to. Jeff was left in charge of the door when Harry was late finishing getting dressed, and she could tell that he had done a fine job. The tunes were going, people were drinking, and everyone seemed happy. He had even put the album countdown that Y/N had spent two hours making that morning on the TV.

“Stay close to me, please?” Harry asked her, bending his head to whisper in her ear when they reached the group.

Y/N nodded, and Harry began happily talking to Jeff. Y/N started up a conversation with another one of the Full Stop employees who had come who she’d met at a brunch a few weeks ago, plucking some details from her brain about her boyfriend to check-in about. Then, a familiar face flashed in the crowd. “Hanna!”

Harry had suggested the idea of inviting her best friends to the party and Y/N had leapt at the idea. The prospect of having her two favorite people be there with her to celebrate her boyfriend was her idea of a perfect night. Hanna’s red hair popped up, her smile giddy from seeing Y/N. Cutting through the crowd, she quickly made it to Y/N, who wrapped her best friend up in a tight hug.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” she said. “Find it okay?”

Hanna nodded. “Security at the gate did not want to let me in though. Jamie is on his way—Cole called while he was walking out the door.” Jamie and Cole had been together for years and Y/N decided the first time she met Cole that there wasn’t anyone better for Jamie, and Jamie seemed to agree. “How are you?”

“Amazing,” Y/N replied and she truly was. She felt like she was on cloud nine right now, the energy bouncing off of Harry absorbing into every one of her pores. “Excited to finally hear it.”

“You should be.” Hanna leaned over and tapped Harry on the shoulder.

His attention shifted from some work-related conversation with Jeff quickly over to his girlfriend’s best friend. “Oh, hello Hanna,” he said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“No place I’d rather be,” Hanna replied. “Now can I steal Y/N?”

Harry’s eyes lingered on Y/N, but he gave her a warm smile. “‘Course.”

Y/N followed her best friend out onto the patio, giving hugs and saying hello to the friends of Harry’s she’d met during the past few months of them being together. Harry watched her with awe at how well she had fit into his life, she’d succeeded faster than any other girl he’d ever dated. The tidbits of information she remembered and the way she made an effort to be present in the conversations, her deep knowledge of music and the industry coming in handy. He loved having a girl at her side who knew what all of his team did without him having to explain it to her. It was small, but it made a difference to him.

“H,” Mitch said, pulling his gaze from his girlfriend back to the conversation he’d been having with Mitch, Adam, and Sarah. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he replied, taking a sip of the margaritas Y/N had made for the party. She’d slaved over them all day while he was on calls and doing interviews and he appreciated it so much. He reminded himself to tell her later when he had her alone and could tell her properly.

Sarah smiled at him knowingly. “He’s just looking at Y/N, as usual.”

Mitch and Adam chuckled, but Harry frowned. “Am I not allowed to look at my girl?”

“You are,” Adam said, “just be careful, mate. You told us about the rule, remember?”

The Rule. The goddamn rule that controlled this relationship more than he felt like he did, sometimes. He didn’t know how much Y/N thought about it at this point in their relationship, but then again it was still technically pretty early in the grand scheme of things. But for him, it was a constant reminder than their time together was fleeting, that at any point she might want to leave him, his lifestyle too hard. And it’s not that he blamed her. He just hated that it was a possibility. “I know.”

“How’s it going?” Adam pressed. Harry had been distant these past few weeks, holing himself up in the house with Y/N every chance he got when they weren’t rehearsing and he wasn’t on a call. It was hectic and he knew that his friends worried about him.

Harry took another sip of his margarita, eyes finding Y/N out on the patio laughing with Hanna, hair blowing in the wind. “Been good. She seems really happy,” he continued at the sight of her smile. “Bit nervous about tonight, if I’m being honest though.” He’d told Y/N the same thing, but the pit in his stomach still lingered. She had said she was excited, but he didn’t know how she would react to him releasing an album full of songs about his exes and flings.

They all got it though. “About which song?”

“All of ‘em,” he said nervously, and it was true. Y/N came into his life after the album was done, the idea of adding a song about her impossible. Even though he could’ve written dozens—he already had, the voice memos on his phone to prove it. Sometimes he’d sneak away to the bathroom while she slept to sing something that popped into his head, and the few that he’d shown the band they liked. It was all material for the next album, they told him. Some of them had even become full-fledged songs after a few hours locked in his office, but he hadn’t shared them yet. They still felt too raw.

Sarah reached out a hand and squeezed Harry’s shoulder. “She’ll get it, H. Her dad’s a musician, you know? If there was anyone who would understand, it would be her.”

And she was probably right. But there was a feeling in his gut that Harry couldn’t shake—that tonight wouldn’t end well for them. He’d felt it when he had woken up this morning and no matter how many time he kissed Y/N to make it go away, it lingered and it was making his brain go wild.

He hoped it was just the nerves.

The night passed quickly. There were speeches, a cake, Jeff pulled out a bottle of champagne, and Y/N had rejoined Harry at his side for the most part. And at this party, there was no question as to who she was—to everyone she was “Y/N, my girlfriend,” and Harry loved it. Particularly the look on her face that she would get every once in a while when her eyes caught his. He didn’t know what to call it, but he just knew that he felt the same way.

Before he knew it, it was 11:59 and everyone had gathered in the living room. The TV had the countdown on that Y/N had designed, the album cover with the numerical countdown over it, another bottle of champagne in Harry’s hand, ready to pop. Y/N stood a few people away from him, watching him with that look in her eyes that she’d been giving him all night that made him weak in the knees and made him curious what she would do to him when they were upstairs. He knew why Y/N was keeping her distance right now—she had mentioned it once before when they were curled up in bed after Harry asked her to be put down as a co-host for the party, that this success was his and his alone. That she was here at the end and she wanted it to be all his. She was here to support him and give him kisses after, but it was all his.

“10, 9, 8.” This was it. It was Harry’s debut album, his first solo record. It was weird for the rest of the guys to not be here when an album dropped. Usually, they were all standing together with bottles of champagne, ready to celebrate with one another.

“7, 6, 5, 4.” And Harry didn’t know which one was worse and which was better. Maybe they were both equally as wonderful, because he had other friends here to stand by his side. Jeff, Sarah, Mitch, Adam. James, floating around somewhere. His mum and sister tried to be here but Gemma got sick and Anna wanted to stay behind to take care of her.  

“3, 2,” He had Y/N. He had Y/N’s excited expression, her wide eyes and flushed cheeks, the look of pride on her face that he treasured.

“1!” But this was his, his success, his win. With the first notes of the album playing in the room, he popped the bottle of champagne and with the bubbles running down the side of the bottle, he took a long swig.

Cheers went up around him, his best friends celebrating his biggest success of his career thus far, one he’d fought long and hard for. One he was immensely proud of and he hoped he would always look back on fondly. And the sound of his album blaring in his house’s sound system—the sound of Meet Me in the Hallway, it brought him to tears.

“Aww, man,” Adam brought him into a hug, patting Harry softly on his back. “Y/N! Come here!”

Y/N was there in an instant, wrapping Harry up in her arms, his head falling onto her shoulder, sobs wracking his body as they stood there. He didn’t even care that his friends were all there witnessing him crying into his girlfriend’s shoulder, he was just so overwhelmed.

“You okay, bubs?” Y/N asked, petting the back of his head softly.

“It’s a lot,” he replied softly, trying to find the words. “Happy. But also just…”

Her hands ran up and down his back, rubbing circles. “I know, baby. You don’t need to explain, okay?”

Harry didn’t reply, just tried to find his breath and stop the tears that were welling in his eyes. And when he did, he lifted his head and his lips met Y/N’s, the sound of whoops and cat-calls breaking out around them. The middle finger that Harry raised to them all did nothing to stifle them either. “Thank you,” he said into her hair when they broke.

The feeling of her lips on his neck, a soft kiss, brought him to his knees. “Always.”

And Harry hoped it was true.

While the rest of the party swirled around her—dancing had broke out, James had started making themed drinks, his favorite being the Sign of the Times one—Y/N sat right in front of the speaker, listening to every word of the album. It was her first time hearing it and she knew Harry would probably play it for her later, but she wanted to hear it now. She wanted to hear his pride and joy, the thing that had him beaming and laughing with his friends, belting out the lyrics with Mitch and Adam in a conga line that was worming its way through the room.

And what she heard broke her heart in so many ways.

Y/N knew that music, and much of art, stemmed from pain and hurt. A good amount of it was also about love, but the songs that were some of the rawest, the ones that hit home for most people, were the ones about our darkest moments. Harry’s album was full of them. Heartbreak, heartache, regrets, addiction to people and things. It was chock full of every one of his deepest darkest secrets, especially the women who he had loved before he met her. There was a part of her that knew that he would tell her in his own time about the stories of some of these women—he had mentioned a few when she’d asked about them—and that she didn’t need to push, but there was this disgusting, self-sabotaging part of her that wanted to know every sordid detail, even though she knew it would hurt her.

This was one of the many reasons she had always told herself she would never date a musician, but more importantly that she would never fall for one. Because their relationship, their joys and pitfalls, heartache and brightest moments, it was all fodder for a song, an album, a career. It wasn’t the artist’s fault, that’s how it worked, but that didn’t make it any easier to be the person they were writing about.

Was that all she was? Another girl for Harry to write a song about?

She wanted to be happy for him, to be glowing and beaming for him, but the part of her that she hated, the part that conjured the worst possible parts of people, it was crawling out of her head. It was twisting Harry and she knew it, but that didn’t mean she didn’t believe it.

The album only lasted 40 minutes, but in those 40 minutes the party died down. People had jumped in the pool while Y/N sat by the speaker, they had finished their drinks, they had said their goodbyes, the object of the event passed. Hanna and Jamie came over and gave her hugs, concerned looks on their faces, and told her to call them if she needed anything. When she looked up, the last notes of From the Dining Table fading, it was just her left.

A light from the patio twinkled and she could see the water rippling under the moonlight. Harry.

She left the stereo silent, not cuing up another playlist, and tugged off her shoes, then her dress. Following the pull of the man who had written such a beautiful, heartbreaking, hopeful record, she walked to the patio.

“There you are.” He was floating on his back in just his boxers, which didn’t surprise Y/N in the slightest. The fairy lights they had strung up together were dim in the nighttime darkness, but just bright enough so she could see Harry and all his beauty. “Look bloody gorgeous, love.”

Y/N tucked her hair into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, knotting the hair so it stayed. “Finished the album,” she said, walking to the water’s edge.

“Yeah?” Harry swam over to her, leaning his head on her thighs that rested on the concrete that lined the pool. “What’d you think?”

She couldn’t help the heartbroken smile that graced her features, because she was too tired to lie to him. Exhausted from trying to pretend that she didn’t think about the fact that he could leave her at any moment, that the insecurities of who she was and who he was didn’t catch up to her sometimes. His fingertips brushed at her cheeks and Y/N realized she was crying.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” He hoisted himself out of the water and hooked one of his legs around her waist, pulling her into his wet skin. It was cold against the night air, but somehow Harry was still warm to her.

“I don’t know how to say this,” she said slowly, struggling to find her words.

Fingers drifted up and down her back. “Just do your best.”

She tried not to think about the fact that she was crying on his album release day, that they were having this conversation now. One that sat in the back of her mind when she was alone and Harry couldn’t banish it. “The album is beautiful, Harry,” she started, “but it’s about a past that I wasn’t a part of.” Harry was quiet, but his arms didn’t move from their place around her, so she forged on. “I know that artists write from their experience, and that this album was done before I met you, but there’s this part of me, this horrible part that I utterly despise, that is jealous of them. The women who you wrote about. And the fact that it’s them that you’re going to sing about on stage every night. Does that make sense?”

The brush of his chin against her spine showed her that yes, he understood.

“And,” she continued, voice breaking, “I can’t stop thinking about the fact that maybe I’m going to be a song.”

“Of course you’re going to be a song,” Harry said, his voice soft and sweet.

He didn’t get it. To him, being a song was an honor, but to her, it was a threat almost. “No—it’s that I’m going to be only a song.”

The man next to her didn’t say a word. The chirp of the crickets stretched between their bodies, which were still close on the concrete floor, not a muscle moved.

“I don’t want to only be a song.” Y/N’s voice was hoarse, sobs wracking her body she didn’t expect, didn’t want. She couldn’t have this conversation if she was crying, but she couldn’t hold them in either. It was her biggest fear, the one that festered below all of the others, threatening to consume the relationship she had with a man she was falling for. And falling was the only way to describe it—without any support, a free fall that was utterly terrifying but also blissful peaceful.

Suddenly, his fingers swept across her neck, brushing against her sensitive skin. “Y/N,” he whispered, “you could never be just a song. You’re—you’re like the stars and the moon to me. In that room I could always feel you, wherever you were, and I didn’t want to be anywhere where you weren’t. And maybe this is too fast and too soon, but what I feel for you, fuck Y/N how can you not see how much you are to me?”

He pulled her head so she faced him, his eyes teary to match her own. “Do you hear me? You’re so much more than a song. You’re an album. You’re my life’s work, my masterpiece, a symphony. A song can’t contain how I feel for you, it’s just a piece of a billion I could write.”

Soft as a feather, his lips pressed to her cheeks and then up and across her forehead, over her eyelids, barely leaving a mark but a searing fire in his wake that shook Y/N’s core. “And Y/N, you’re better than a song. You’re my life. You’re here, you’re real, you’re with me. Y/N, you will never be just a song to me. You never could be. Not to me.”

Y/N rested her forehead against his, inhaling his cologne and exhaling her feelings for him. He managed to rip down all her defenses, the ones she had spent years building up, and it was frightening. But then she looked at him, the way he smiled at her, the way he kissed her, the way he said her name, and it wasn’t quite as scary. She hoped he could feel how much she cared for him in the way she kissed him, their tears blending into one as they scrambled for each other. Lips breaking and meeting, desperate for more and more and more. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, holding him to her, wanting to have his whole body imprinted on hers.

“Y/N,” he breathed, “you heard me? You understand?”

“Yes,” she replied softly, “I hear you.” She brushed her fingers through his hair gently, curling the wet strands back. “You may need to remind me sometimes.”

“Always,” he whispered, catching her kiss with his own, tugging her into him, arms around her body in a vice grip.

She lost herself in Harry, him an ocean and her a boat lost at sea. Maybe it was their conversation or the night or the alcohol flowing through their veins, but it felt different. The way he kissed her felt heavier, her moans a prayer, his fingers on his back a weight she never wanted lifted. Her legs wrapped around his waist so she was firmly in his lap, arms thrown over his shoulders, their bare bodies except for their underwear pressed against each other without a molecule of air between them.

His lips drew a line across the top of her shoulder, a fire building in her belly as his fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra. It was a light pink she’d worn just for him and when he nudged at the strap with his nose, letting it slip from her shoulders, she didn’t care that he could barely see it. She’d show him tomorrow morning. He pulled the fabric away and bent his head, licking at one of her nipples and then the other, gasps falling from her mouth like poetry. Without meaning to, her hips rolled over his cock, the thin fabric of their underwear doing nothing to keep the heat of her center from touching his sensitive skin.

He moaned her name, the sound muffled against her neck as he sucked a love bite into the spot that made her keen every time he nipped into it. She rocked again on him, his fingers digging into her skin so hard it would leave marks tomorrow but she didn’t care. In fact, she wanted to have his marks on her tomorrow, she wanted to show the world that she wasn’t just a song, she was his, she was his girlfriend and she made him feel this way.

Hands on skin, he pressed her down onto the concrete so she was lying down, her ankles tucked around his hips, anchoring her to him. When his hips bucked into hers, she let out a sharp cry, the angle brushing her clit perfectly. “Right there?” He mumbled, nipping and tugging on her nipple, laving a circle that left her squirming against the concrete.

“Off,” she whispered, tugging at his boxers with her hands. “Wanna feel you.” With his help, they shimmied off his boxers without too much difficulty and Y/N let out a sigh of relief when she could feel his cock brush against her covered folds. Reaching a hand down, she brushed the pad of her thumb across his tip, a pained hiss flying from Harry’s throat. He was sensitive and Y/N loved it.

They didn’t have a condom, but she didn’t care. She’d been on birth control for years and she knew Harry hadn’t slept with anyone else since she found her way into his life. Plus, she needed him—she wanted to feel him, raw and bare inside of her.

They were going to have sex on the concrete next to his pool, but she didn’t care. They had had sex before and they would have sex again. She just needed him in a desperate, crawling way. When he nudged at her underwear she pressed into him, letting him pull them down her legs without a second thought.

“Condom,” Harry mumbled as she chased after his lips, open mouthed and heavy.

“It’s okay,” she said, fingers digging into his shoulder blades. “Want you like this.”

Harry’s head dropped to the space between her neck and shoulder, the groan that filled the air unlike anything she had heard before. “Gonna ruin me,” he whispered, brushing his cock against her folds. Y/N whimpered at the sensation, her fingers begging him for more, for anything she would give him. When his fingers brushed her clit, his name tumbled from her lips without abandon.

“Harry, please,” she panted, fingers deep in his hair.

That was all it took. She was so wet from the foreplay and just him that he didn’t even need to stretch her out. Her mouth fell open as he pushed inside, a mewl landing on his lips as he kissed her. Slowly, he pulled out and then back in, both of them groaning from the sensation of him being bare inside her. He felt impossibly close, every ridge and edge of him pressing against her in the most perfect way. She didn’t know if she could use condoms again, because holding Harry to her chest, arms around his shoulders as he fucked slowly, deeply, into her, her able to feel every inch of her, it was bliss on a new level. A sensation she didn’t know she was missing with him.

Her ankles hitched higher on his hips and when he pushed back in he hit a new angle, a groan ripping from his throat that set her on fire. “Can I go faster?” He said with a grunt. “I—I don’t know how much—“

“Yes,” she whimpered at his words.

He didn’t wait. He drew back and into her, pistoning his hips at a pace she couldn’t even describe, hitting that spot deep inside of her that made her eyes roll back over and over. How he managed to do that she didn’t know, but he deserved an award. Fingers grabbing at his skin in desperation for something to hold her together, Y/N gasped and exhaled his name, a plea and a beg and a prayer all in one. Her back hurt from the concrete but she didn’t care, she just wanted to finish, to feel him release deep inside of her.

Then he thumbed over her clit and she arched up, back leaving the concrete as the fire deep within her threatened to bubble over. When he start brushing circles there, Y/N gripped his shoulders like they would keep her anchored to Earth, her body possibly transcending. Harry bent his head and sucked a love bite on her breast, the puncture of skin forcing her head back, unable to keep it together.

“You close?” He asked, littering her chest with kisses, “Please tell me you are, I can’t, I can’t hold on…”

She mumbled a yes as he drove deep inside of her, swiveling his hips in a brutal way that left her hands squeezing his butt cheeks to get him to do it again. When he did, she swore she saw stars. “Gonna come,” she said, eyes searching for his lips in the low lighting. “Kiss?”

Without hesitation, he kissed her, open mouthed and dirty and sloppy and perfect. She wanted every rough-edged and sweet part of him, every kiss and press of his body against hers. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he chanted as he pressed into her again and again, her body drawing tighter and tighter. Then, he pinched her clit and she came, the ball in her tummy unravelling, hips bucking up against him as she rode out her high. Her eyes stayed trained on him as she did, not wanting to miss his face when he came inside of her.

His hips stuttered, release unloading inside of her in ropes that left him cursing like a sailor. Hair wet and sweaty, sticking to his forehead, and irises blown out, he looked beautiful. She held him close until his body settled, shaking as he came down from his high, forehead resting on the swell of her breasts.

Slowly, he rolled off of her, tugging her body into his so she wasn’t on the cold concrete anymore. He was fiery hot and it kept her warm in the cold air. “Can we never use a rubber again?” He asked softly, and she giggled, hiding her face in his neck.

“Don’t see any reason to,” she replied and he hummed with joy. Tucking her hands under her chin, she looked at him with a smile. “Congrats on your album, baby.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear tenderly. “I’m so happy I shared today with you.” She kissed him softly and let him hold her close, not wanting to move even to go to bed because it meant leaving his grasp. And as much as her head told her that it wasn’t forever, she couldn’t help but hope it would be.

It had been four days since Harry had texted her. Five since he called her. Six since they FaceTimed.

He was in London for the press junket for Dunkirk and Y/N was supposed to fly out for the July 13th premiere—it was decided a month ago, the tickets booked and her time off from work already approved. But as the days stretched on and the silence grew longer, she couldn’t help but wonder if something was wrong. If she had done something wrong.

It wasn’t the first time he had been away from LA. They had a conversation about how they were going to handle distance when he travelled back in April, before the album came out and he had to fly around and do press for two weeks. That time, though, he handled it well—he called every night before she went to bed if he could, if not, he sent a long voice memo that she listened to when she woke up. They texted all day, him sending photos from dressing rooms and backstage at talk shows, even FaceTiming her so she could meet the stars he shared the nights with.

But this time was different. Since he left he had texted her just a handful of times and it was when he was at his mom’s house visiting home before press started. And then once press kicked into gear, he was gone, her texts ignored, calls not returned. She was trying not to seem desperate, but with the more time that passed the more anxious she got. It wasn’t how this was supposed to go, this wasn’t what they’d agreed on. He knew her fears, the dark thoughts that crowded in when she spent too much time worrying about their relationship, and yet he wasn’t taking the actions that helped her calm down. Even though she knew it wasn’t his responsibility to take care of her brain, it helped to know he thought about her, at the very least.

The morning before her flight was supposed to leave, she called Hanna in a panic. Her suitcases laid open on her bed, clothes scattered around her, tears streaming down her face. She had tried to call Harry again to confirm her arrival plans, only to be met with his voicemail, again.

Hi, you’ve reached Harry. I’ll give you a call back when I can!

Somehow, the sound of his voice made it worse.

“Han,” she choked out when her friend picked up, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Did he not answer?” Hanna had been counseling her through the whole thing, helping her stay calm and sane, as much as possible at least. From Y/N’s lack of response, just more sobs, Hanna knew immediately. “That prick.”

Y/N wiped a tear from her eye and looked at the ticket in her hand. Harry had forced her to accept his offer of first-class, booking her flight through his agent and everything. “Does he even want me there? Should I not go?”

Hanna was quiet, thoughts rolling through her head. “No,” she finally said. “You should go. Even if it’s just to talk to him in person. You deserve to hear it face-to-face, not by him ghosting you.”

“Even if that means I end up in London and he breaks up with me?”

“Yes,” Hanna replied softly. “But I really, really hope that is not what’s happening.”

At first it had been that he was busy, that he would text when he had time, but it had been six days. Now, both Y/N and Hanna were increasingly worried that it meant the end of their relationship and Y/N was simply not ready for that possibility. She had let Harry in—he had begged her to let him in—and he was going to end things like this? When things got hard with the distance he just…cut her out? “Can you take me to the airport?” Y/N asked, sniffling. “If you don’t I don’t think I’ll be able to force myself to go.”

“Was already planning on it,” Hanna replied. “I’ll bring snacks for the flight.”

“Love you,” Y/N told her. Hanna was her one constant, who knew Y/N better than she knew herself.

“Love you more. Now go finish packing and call me if you need me, okay?”

Y/N told her okay and hung up, her gaze shifting to her suitcase. If he was going to break up with her, then she was going to look so magnificent he would regret every second of it.

Eleven hours in the air meant plenty of time to run over her entire relationship with Harry. She had sat curled up in her seat scrolling through her camera roll and listening to Bon Iver, which was the sappiest thing possible and she didn’t care. Y/N didn’t want to break up with him and the photos and the texts and the memories proved it. Her time with Harry had been so beautifully bright, his presence in her life making so much better, from her confidence to her knowledge to her music taste. And she cared about him in a way she hadn’t let herself do—ever.

She had texted Jeff before she took off, telling him she couldn’t get a hold of Harry and asking where she should go when she landed. He replied with Harry’s Hampstead address and the door code, saying there was a key waiting for her, hidden in the garden, an apology on Harry’s behalf for how busy he had been. The words meant nothing, though, to Y/N. If Harry wanted to apologize he would have to do it in person, not through Jeff.

It was eleven by the time her Uber pulled up to Harry’s house and she thanked the driver as he tugged her luggage from the boot. She waited until he pulled away before she typed in the gate code, not wanting to reveal Harry’s security to anyone—she have been mad at him, but she still didn’t want anything happening to him. The door unlocked for her and she slid inside, shutting it quickly behind her. Pulling her suitcase behind her, she walked up the path, searching for the garden statue Jeff had told her the key was hiding under. When she found it, her fingers ran across the ridges as she made her way to the front door.

His house in LA was warm, it was the Harry she knew. But this house felt colder, the design modern, his personal affects not as visible. Although to his credit, he hadn’t been here for more than a few days in months. A few photos of Anne and Gemma were scattered through the front hall, some framed photos of his time in One Direction nestled between them.

“Harry?” She knew he wasn’t there, but the idea of walking into his house without checking felt too uncomfortable for her. She locked the door tightly behind her, typing in the security code Jeff had sent before re-arming it.

Y/N took her time exploring his house. She perused the main spaces, testing out the couches and peeking at his bookcases, studying the art lining the walls. Then she made her way upstairs to the bedrooms, running her fingers along the edges of his One Direction album plaques that lined the walls of his office, the ones from his debut still resting on the floor waiting to be hung. She found the guest bedrooms with ease and she spent a good five minutes standing on the landing deciding if she should go into his bedroom or set herself up in a guest one.

She settled on a guest bedroom. If he was going to break things off, she didn’t want to know what his bed felt like or smell his clothes or take a shower in his bathroom.

Instead, she showered in the guest bath, washing off the plane smell that lingered on her body. She dressed in shorts and a tank top, letting her hair air dry since she would have to just re-style it for the premiere later. Jeff hadn’t told her what time Harry would be back and she was ravenous, so she wandered downstairs to fix herself some lunch. To fill the silence in the house she turned on The 1975, playing the music from her laptop she had open on the counter as she cooked some pasta she had found in the cabinet. As she ate at his dining table, she tried not to think about the fact that this could be the last time she was in a space of Harry’s. The last time she sat on things he had picked out, the last time she rooted through his fridge, past his obnoxious green juices and leftovers since he hated eating out if he didn’t have to. Her fingers brushed at her eyes, trying to stop the tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks.

Reaching down for her fork to take another bite, she suddenly heard the lock click in the front door and the security system begin to beep.

He was home.

She slid her bowl away from her and turned to look at the doorway, waiting to see his face for the first time in over a week. And when he appeared, she couldn’t the return the stretched across his face at the sight of her in his house. He looked the same and somehow that was worse. In a nice shirt from interviews this morning, his hair slightly tossed from running his fingers through it, the sheen on his upper lip from the heat outside. He looked like her Harry, but she didn’t know if he was hers anymore.

“Y/N!” His voice rebounded off the walls, filling her heart with a kind of hope that was crushing.

“Hi,” was all she could muster before looking back down at her pasta. An anger rose in her, replacing the hurt that had lingered for so many days. How could he pretend like everything was okay? How could he smile at her like he hadn’t been ignoring her for days, too busy to even check and see how her flight was?

His footsteps were heavy on the hardwood floors as he made his way over to her. “Baby? What is it?”

“Do you want to break up?” She asked, her question hard compared to his kind, gentle, tentative tone.

“What?” Harry dropped into the seat caddy-corner to the chair she sat in. “What are you talking about?”

She pushed away her bowl and looked him dead in the eye. “I haven’t heard from you in days, Harry. Days. I flew halfway across the world for you and you couldn’t even manage to check-in to see if I was alive?”

He flinched at her words, eyes dropping to the table they sat at. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, words barely audible above her heart beating a mile a minute, pulsing with anger.

“That’s not going to cut it,” she told him, standing up and taking her bowl to the sink. “You fucking ghosted me like I was a girl you’d just met. We’re about to celebrate six months together. And you know what this shit does to me.”

And he did. She could see in his eyes that he knew he was in the wrong, and yet he was quiet. “I was busy.”

“So was I! But I still found two seconds to text you asking how it was going, I found fifteen minutes before bed to call you, and I kept trying even though you couldn’t even manage to reply to me. You’re not that busy, Harry.”

He stood too, walking over to where she stood in his kitchen so that he was a few paces away from her. “I was in and out of interviews from morning to night and when I wasn’t, I was with the cast who I haven’t seen in almost a year. And when I wasn’t doing that Jeff was harassing me about tour details or I was sleeping. I’m sorry if my schedule didn’t allow me to talk to you at every second of the day, Y/N, but this is a huge moment for me and I had to focus on that.” His words were measured, but she could feel the tension rising between them, words unsaid bubbling over.

“And your career is more important than our relationship.” She nodded sarcastically, wiping her wet palms on the dish towel and turning to face him. “Got it, heard loud and clear.”

“Fuck—you know it’s not!” His hand ran through his locks and down his face, struggling to get a handle on his breathing.

“Harry,” she said, trying not to yell, “I’m not going to force you to stay in a relationship that you don’t want to put the time in for. But you know exactly what I need from you—I have been very clear. You know my fears and my insecurities, and you know what triggers them. We had a plan for how to deal with this, and you completely disregarded it!” Her voice rose at the end, the fact that he couldn’t even meet her eyes pushing all of her buttons. “Fucking look at me when I talk to you!”

His eyes met hers and she didn’t see the Harry she knew, the Harry who cared for her, the soft, gentle man. Instead, she saw someone who was pissed off and hurt and grasping at straws. “I can’t dance around your fears every moment of the day,” he said, voice spitting anger. “And I’m sorry if that breaks one of your rules,” the word hitting her in the face, “but you’re going to have to get over it because I can’t spend every second of the day wondering if something I did or said has made you think I don’t care about you! You should know that I don’t want to hurt you, that of course I want to be with you!”

“Well, how am I supposed to know if you don’t tell me!” His words stabbed her right where it hurt, hitting her fears right in the heart.

Harry turned, his body facing the counter, fingers gripping the edge of the marble. He sucked in breath after breath trying to calm himself down and Y/N tried to find it within herself to have sympathy for him, but she just…couldn’t. She was so pissed off at him she couldn’t think straight.

“I’m not some girl waiting around for Harry Styles to come home, begging him to never leave me,” Y/N said. She was done. She was done with this fight, with him expecting her to be someone she wasn’t. “I’m me and I’m waiting for Harry, the person I care for so deeply it hurts—you are held to the same standards as every other guy, no matter how busy your schedule is. I should not be expected to fit into your schedule all the time. It goes both ways and you operated this week as if it was entirely my job to stay in touch with you. And I am not going to stay in a relationship like that.”

Harry’s head whipped to hers, eyes boring straight into her. “Are you saying you want to break up?”

Y/N tried to keep her head high, tried to hold back the tears. “If you’re going to do this when you’re on tour, I’m done. You know what I want—it’s the same thing I wanted from this relationship the moment I met you. You’re the only one who seems to think things have changed.” And with that, she stormed out of the room, which was probably petty but she didn’t care. She was so mad at him for his actions and his words that she couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him.

Harry didn’t follow her.

At 1 o’clock, a knock came on her door.

“If you still want to come, we have to leave for the premiere in an hour. It’s up to you.” And with that, he walked away, not even waiting for her to open the door.

She sat on the bed, considering her options. Did she go and support him anyway, pretend everything was fine? Or did she stay here—or maybe find a hotel—and leave him alone for the premiere?

He had told her how nervous he was about this. This was his first time on a movie red carpet as an actor and he was freaking out about it before he left, a ball of anxiety that she had to carefully untangle. The thought of him being up there alone pained her, despite how his hurtful words lingered in her head. That she had to get over it as if it was that simple.

The red dress she had bought for the premiere hung in the bathroom where she had left it while she showered so the wrinkles would leave the fabric. It was beautiful—a tiered taffeta skirt that cinched in at the waist, a caged bodice showing off her shoulders. When she had tried it on she had felt beautiful, powerful, as if she could take on anything and everything. She had spent a ton of money on the dress and she didn’t want to waste it.

So she got up, turning on BANKS and set about her hair and makeup in the bathroom, praising Hanna for teaching her how to do her makeup in college. She painted her lips red, in the shade that she adored wearing, and twisted up her hair into a chignon that emphasized her neck. Running her fingers along the skin she remembered when Harry had kissed it, but the love bite he had left behind was long healed. Was she asking too much of him? She wondered as she looked at herself in the mirror. Was he right, were her fears stifling him?

Then she remembered what Hanna had told her. That he wasn’t anyone different from other guys she had dated, and what she was asking from him wasn’t out of left field. Any guy she would date she would except to check in with her when he was traveling and Harry was no different, no matter what his job was.

Harry was waiting downstairs for her, probably having heard her rummaging around in the closet. When he heard her heels on the stairs, he looked up and his eyesight on her skin burned because he looked gorgeous. Maybe this was a horrible idea, she thought as she made her way towards him. She would have to touch him all night, look at him in his tailored suit, gaze into his green eyes as they were photographed on the red carpet.

“You look beautiful,” he said, words gravelly in his throat.

She stopped a few paces away from him. “Thanks.”

He fiddled with his keys, the silence stretching between them. “Thank you for coming with me. I know you have no reason to, but having you there…It means a lot.”

Instead of replying, because she didn’t have words for him, she just nodded. Because she did have a reason—even though she was mad at him, she still cared for him. Despite not wanting to, she still craved him giving her a kiss on the cheek as they walked out the door.

The drive to the red carpet was quiet, the radio playing softly in the background the only sound. They sat on either side of the backseat, Y/N staring out the window while Harry fiddled with his phone. She hadn’t been to London since she was 18 for her graduation present from her mom, and the city held warm memories for her. She wondered if that would change after today.

When they pulled up, an anxiety Y/N didn’t know she was holding started building, the sight of the photographers and the screams from the fans barricaded in. With all that had been happening, she had somehow forgotten what going to the premiere meant for her. Her eyes fell to Harry who was staring at her, trying to gauge her reaction. She had never done this before and he knew that.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” he said, trying to calm her fears. “Promise.” It helped. At least she wouldn’t be completely alone. “Ready?” He stretched out a hand to her and she took it, letting him help her from the car.

The second her feet hit the pavement, the screams got louder. Fans with signs and their phones outstretched on either side of the wide red carpet, the word DUNKIRK in large white letters closest to the entrance to the theater. Harry’s hand gripped her as she stood, thankful for his body to help her keep balanced.

“Just smile as best you can,” he whispered in her ear as the car pulled away behind them. “And if your eyes start hurting from the flashes, just look at me, okay?”

Y/N nodded, and with his hand in hers, fingers entertained, they made their way down the carpet. He stopped a few times to take photos with fans and sign cards, but all that time he never strayed too far from Y/N’s side. With his arm securely wrapped around her waist, they stood for photos, Y/N trying to stand up as straight as she could and smile sweetly. Harry was a pro at this, a smile practiced for years, but she didn’t have the same experience. She was just a regular person who didn’t know which side was her bad side and had her eyes closed in half her photos.

The cameramen screamed questions at them, about their relationship, if they were married. They’d never quite publicly announced their relationship, Harry preferring to keep his private life private, so this was the first time they’d ever even publicly been out as a couple. And for it to be like this…Y/N hated it. She wanted to stand there and be utterly infatuated with Harry like she usually was, but this time her spine was rimrod straight, trying to keep her emotions in check. It was awkward, the way he tentatively touched her body, not wanting to overstep but also wanting to present the aura of normalcy.

Then they took a few steps and rotated to another set of cameras and Y/N understood what Harry had meant about her eyes hurting from the flashes. She turned her head to him and he found her eyes, giving her a wide smile meant just for her. Without thinking about it, her hand pressed to his suit right over his heart, the soft material of his suit jacket butter under her fingers. Then, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, softly and sweetly and to most it wouldn’t have meant much. But to Y/N, it was the first time he had kissed her since she’d seen him. And the feeling of his lips on her skin lingered, a tingle moving through her body. Her hand gripped his back a little tighter and he just kept smiling at her, utterly entranced by her eyes.

Their bodies had betrayed them. To anyone who looked, they would have seen perfectly fine, not that they had been fighting only two hours ago. But they knew the reality, and this moment, their bodies close together and emotions running through them without being able to stop it, it made it clear that neither of them wanted to break up. They would just have to find a way to move through it.

TAGLIST

@smokeinherperfume @afire-hes @harryinsweatersandbandanas @marinalima3 @havethetimeofyourstyles @ursogoldenshan @inmygardensuit @marinalima3 @amaridon @harrys-watermelons @dontgiveupthedayjob @cronias13 @apples2019 @laula843 @afterstylesmadeit  @kait-brin @harrys-watermelons @groovybaybee @clumsywithlove93 @1142590m @erin0717 @ketchuplukehemmo​ 

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NEXT CHAPTER COMING JULY 11TH @ NOON CST

[frywen-bumbles]

The Way to a Man's Heart Goes Through His... Cat? Ch2

Days 6-7: Jaskier gets some unexpected messages and looks after house plants

AO3

Master of Music.

Jaskier loves the sound of it.

What he doesn't love is the half-empty document staring at him from his laptop screen.

'Historical Facts, Recent Myths, Current Connections: The Witchers in Historical and Contemporary Music'

He has all of his research material on hand. He has read through it. Several times. But writing the actual research down isn't happening.

Gods above how much he wishes he could just compose new songs and throw his brain out of the window. He doesn't even believe in any gods but if praying will help writing to happen he's willing to try.

Roach sits on top of the bookshelf, in one of her favourite places to... stare at him. And judge. Or maybe Jaskier feels like the cat is judging him. She hasn't warmed up to him during the first week at all, all she does is stare at him whatever he does but doesn't let him close enough to touch yet alone to brush.

"You know, Roachie if you won't let me touch you soon your owner will have to shave you naked when he returns."

Roach doesn't answer.

Of course, she won't answer. He must be going bonkers. Maybe a walk will help. He doesn't hold high hopes, everything is going shite anyway, what good could one walk do?

He snaps a quick silly selfie of himself and Roach and sends it to Roach's owner, like every day. It doesn't take long for the mark to turn blue to note the message has been seen. No answer, but at this point, Jaskier is not surprised. There has been no answer in the previous days, why break the tradition now? Some people just aren't made for small talk and Jaskier isn't going to force it. Not that he'd want to see the man. No, that would be ridiculous.

He gets lost in his thoughts, trying to figure out how to put together his thesis in some sort of coherent way as he walks to the nearby park. His phone buzzes in his pocket for a new message. He digs it out, not giving it much thought expecting to see a message from Essi or Pricilla. What he sees makes him almost drop his phone in his shock.

Cat dad answered? And with a photo?

A honk makes him realise he's standing in the middle of the road like an idiot and he crosses to the other side to reach the park. Only it feels like he doesn't need to have a walk anymore, this is more excitement than he's had in the entire week.

He opens the message.

A selfie with a blonde girl and a man stare back at him. He feels like his heart will stop.

"Essi?" Jaskier has to talk to someone. He knows he shouldn't, he promised absolute confidentiality. But he will burst if he doesn't talk about this to someone. He will absolutely without a doubt die.

"What is it, Buttercup?" Essi drawls like she has all the time in the world.

"Cat dad it insanely hot!"

"Whaaat? He texted back?"

"Yes! He's off the wall hot? I can't deal with this! How am I supposed to just sit working on his desk knowing what the man looks like? He will haunt my dreams, Essi!"

"Well, spill the tea! What does he look like?"

"You know I can't tell you, just know he's the hottest dude I have ever seen, okay? I can't deal with this. How am I supposed to write academic bullshite when his picture sits on my phone and I could just... look at it whenever I want to?

"Jaskier, for fucks sake. Your thesis is already a year late. You have been promised a place in the doctoral programme. If you keep sitting on your arse with this, instead of being the brightest student at the Uni, you will fail, understand? Get your shite together and stop falling in love with every person you happen to see."

"But, Essiiii... He's really hot!"

"I know, darling. Just keep it in your pants until you've finished with your thesis. Then I give you my permission to go chase the hot cat daddy."

"Melitele forbid, Essi, you're no fun. I wasn't going to chase him! I don't even know where he is. I just can't get over the hotness, okay?"

"Mm hmm, I know you too well. Get back to work or do I need to remind you why you took up pet sitting?"

"No. I'm sorry. I'll take a small walk and then get right back to writing, I promise."

Jaskier does not get back to writing.

He stares at the picture in his phone trying to figure out how a gorgeous man like that could have such an impersonal home. The man has his hair tied back in a messy bun, revealing an undercut which tells the milky white locks are natural. Jaskier didn't know he had a thing for blonds, but he sure as hell does now.

The girl's young, maybe around ten years old, Jaskier isn't sure. Kids aren't exactly his forte, all of his friends are still firmly stuck in their studies instead of having families of their own.

The picture had been taken by the girl, the grin wide on her face suggesting taking it had been her idea. But the soft smile the man has as he looks at the girl is melting Jaskier's heart.

If only someone would look at him like that he could die happy.

A crash from upstairs startles him enough to put down his phone and look at the time. Jaskier tries and fails not to fall into despair. He has wasted another day, not a single word written and how he wishes he could just throw up all of his ideas into coherent text but it is not happening.

He closes his laptop. It's no use. Going like this he'll never graduate.

Roach stares at him from the door, covered in dust and... definitely more dust.

"I'm a mess, aren't I, Roachie?"

Roach doesn't answer. Instead, she screams and runs downstairs, expecting him to follow like a good servant. His phone buzzes for a new message and Jaskier taps it open.

<Water the plants. Remember to brush the cactus.>

Remember to what the what now? He stares at the message, trying (and failing) to ignore the image above it.

"What the fuck?" he mutters to himself as he makes his way downstairs to stare at the house plants he has given no thought at all up to this point. On the windowsill in the kitchen is a lone cactus, right next to where Roach likes to sit and look to the yard. A cactus completely covered in cat hair and Roach is happy to provide how that particular thing happened. She jumps next to the plant and rubs her head against it, leaving even more hair on the spines.

"Brush the cactus. Okay then..."

<How do I brush a cactus?>

<What the fuck Jask?>

Jaskier snaps a picture of the cactus and sends it to the group chat with Essi and Pricilla.

<How do I get rid of the hair???>

He gets no response. ... appears on the screen several times before crying laughing emojis fill the screen.

<Thanks a bunch -.- >

He goes to dig through the cabinet where he found cat things and discovers a comb.

"That'll have to do," he sighs and gets to combing the cactus, careful not to harm it. In the end, the cactus comes unharmed from the endeavour but unfortunately, Jaskier doesn't. His palm is adorned with spines he spends a good five minutes plucking out with tweezers.

<If i die bc of a cactus related infection I'm blaming you>

<omg what did you do>

<Squeezed a ball of hair in my hand but it was filled with spines from the cactus>

<lmao>

<lmao???? I'm suffering and you're laughing??? Essi, Pris is being horrible>

<it is only what you deserve>

<OMG rude!>

<kissy face emoji>

Jaskier looks up from his phone when he hears water splashing. He doesn't even want to know what toy the cat has decided to drown now but if he doesn't hurry the whole kitchen will be filled with water.

Roach is happily playing with a toy mouse dunking it in her water bowl and tossing it around, spreading water everywhere.

"Roach, please? Could you just... not do that?" Jaskier begs as he fishes the mouse out of the water bowl and puts it to dry in a cabinet. "This may come as a surprise to you but I do not enjoy mopping the floors after you." He complains as he dutifully takes kitchen towels and dries the kitchen. At least it's better than the time Roach tucked the entire kitchen rug in the water bowl while he was out.

"You are a menace," Jaskier tells Roach after he has cleaned up everything. Roach meows.

Jaskier feels like he has barely fallen asleep when he wakes up. At first, he doesn't understand what woke him, but another yowl has him wide awake. What has him jumping out of the bed and run is the sound of pumping, like someone was trying to unclog a toilet.

"Roach you bastard, where are you? Please don't throw up on a carpet!!" Jaskier tries to find the cat based on the noise, stumbling in the dark. To his horror, the noise is coming from the second floor, where he was absolutely forbidden to go.

"Roaaaaach...!" he whines and makes his way up the stairs.

The view that awaits him when he flips the light on is totally unexpected. It is so unexpected Jaskier has to pinch himself to believe he's actually standing in a real room.

It is, and really the only way to describe it is every little girl's dream room. The room spans the entire second floor, ceiling low on the sides showing it was renovated from an attic, pinks, purples and blues adorning the furnishing.

And right on the middle of the white rug is the vomit.

"Fuck."

Jaskier collects the rug and carries it in the bathroom and spends an ungodly amount of time washing it, hoping against all the odds, the stain would leave.

It doesn't.

Come morning and Jaskier is sure it's all been a weird dream. Unfortunately for him, the stained rug awaits him in the bathroom when he goes to brush his teeth and he groans in frustration.

Roach meows at the closed door and scratches it until he lets her in so she can stare at him. Jaskier sighs and snaps a quick selfie, hair mussed and toothbrush still in his mouth and sends it. No need to prolong it, now he can hopefully focus on writing.

He's drinking his third cup of tea when his phone buzzes for a new message.

<Roach's hair is as messy as yours>

Jaskier stares at the message, sent from an unknown number.

<Who is this?>

<Youre looking after daddys cat>

<You're the girl! From the picture!> <I'm Julian but you can call me Jaskier> <Wait you shouldn't text strange men does your dad know you've texted me?>

<You're not strange you just told me your name> <I'm bored daddy went out with grandpa and im left with uncle> <Hes no fun> <I'm Fiona>

<Hello Fiona, it's nice to meet you>

Jaskier doesn't know what else he's supposed to say. How does one talk with children? Just like normal people? Right?

Wait!

Jaskier comes to a sudden realisation; now he has the perfect opportunity to ask cheat codes for Roach to get the cat to, well maybe not like him but to tolerate him.

<How do I brush Roach? She doesn't let me near her>

The screen fills with laughing emojis earning a sigh from Jaskier. No help then.

<Give her cheese> <Shes crazy about it but only gets it after shes brushed>

Of course, why hasn't he thought to give the cat cheese? Maybe because it doesn't make any sense. Who gives cat cheese when there are perfectly good cat treats available?

Nothing else about this makes any sense either and since writing isn't happening nor is Fiona texting anything else he makes his way to the fridge and digs out a block of cheese and cuts a piece.

Roach runs at him screaming. She thrills and screams and rubs herself against the drawer where all of her brushes are.

Roach doesn't purr when he combs through her fur, but feeding her bits of cheese every time she gets too annoyed helps and like a miracle Jaskier manages to brush a cat-sized pile of loose fur to show for his efforts. He gives Roach the last piece when he has finished and tries to pet her, but she sprints away from him with an annoyed meow.

Maybe Roach doesn't hate him as much as he thought after all.

[concertcs]

hey guys 🥰💌✨🥺💘🌈 it’s me again !! ur old pal hannah !  n this is my angel child tito <3 welcome to loving tito hours <3 

okay so before i jump into this, as a disclaimer i just finished finals week for a 17 credit semester so my brain is just like. tv static and evermore on loop. so if ur looking for an actually well-written, cohesive bio n stats n other fun stuff u can find that in my app which i did in fact write Prior to finals week !  okay on with the show !

okay so tito is the second child born to luis n angela rosario n the younger sibling of sebastián n tbh i know im biased but i love the rosarios sm 🥺 luis was an aspiring musician n angela worked 3 jobs to support them n they had a rly happy life together for a little while :/

tito first got into music when they were in first grade n their music teacher señora coco stayed after school to teach him how to play the piano n they loved it !!  luis was Thrilled bc he swore from the day tito was born tht they were destined to be a musician with him n thus began the dream of the two of them would be a successful father-son duo one day <3

spoiler alert: it did not happen 💔

(death tw) luis was killed in a drive by shooting when tito was 15 😔 n it was rly hard on them 😔 they stopped playing music altogether n definitely went through this moment where they likely pushed away Everyone bc so much of their grief manifested as anger 😔 (end tw)

it didn’t last forever !  but !  the minute that he started to kind of regain his footing, angel was like hey we’re leaving the city !! let’s go !! n tito was like no 💖 bc they wanted to stay in la and salvage what they could of their dad’s dream... so they did

they also went to community college !!  which was when he started to rly start to feel like himself again 🥺 but once they graduated they started working at this radio station to get their foot in the door n it backfired bc they’ve been stuck there for 3 years now... so sorry to them

the day that tito found the killer conclusions cd was actually their 3 yr anniversary exactly which was exactly as depressing as u think it is :/  so to cheer himself up they went to the thrift store for a blind date with a cd which was this tradition that his dad created for them when tito was little (ngl it makes me emotional i wrote a longer thing abt it in my app) n basically told tito that if you picked the most nondescript cd you can find then you’re not being biased n youre just letting the music find you 

and ofc !  as we all know tito’s fate is to get haunted by our fave ghost band !  and here we are !

so that’s the sparknotes version of his bio sdfkdjs here are the hcs i wrote in my app bc i think they say a lot abt him <3

so tito grew up listening to a lot of his father’s favorite latine artists, n luis’s favorite is .. ofc… ricky martin bc he’s from puerto rico and livin la vida loca is a bop !  but tito’s own personal favorite artist is selena. the first Real Song that they ever learned (as in not hot cross buns or twinkle, twinkle little star) to play on the piano was dreaming of you, which is one of his two favorite selena songs to this day. it’s tied with amor prohibido <3

tito loves to dance n they are absolutely shameless about it. they grew up watching their parents samba in the kitchen n he was immediately like Okay Me Too. are they a particularly great dancer? no ❤️ but that does not deter them n what they lack in technical skill they make up for in enthusiasm

very, very, very much a Disaster Gay with the emphasis on disaster. like he Does Not know how to talk to boys at all n gets very flustered n nervous when he does . especially bc i think this is a pretty recent development for them. as in like .. within the last 5 years n it probably took him a long ass time to work their way through bc like. they were a little busy trying to figure out their relationship with gender

which! speaking of! they always knew that they didn’t 100% connect with being a Boy, like… the same way that he could say that he liked green beans sometimes, or they only wanted pepperoni on their pizza sometimes, he only felt like a boy sometimes. it wasn’t that they felt like a girl the rest of the time, though. they just didn’t have the words to describe what they felt like the rest of the time — not until they took their first gender studies class at community college. finding out that there was a community of people who were like him was a huge weight off of their shoulder n also kind of marked the point where they could start figuring out their sexuality

i think tito has a very Cozy home but like .. they just embody a lot of coziness to me in general. he definitely has a lot of plants, n 100% of their furniture n decor are thrifted but he’s a cancer so we know tht means their home n making sure they’re comfy there is very important

tito is very very Very fiercely protective of his people n you have to definitely prove yourself in order for them to let you anywhere near his people. like when the ghosts first showed up they absolutely had to earn their trust before they would let anyone go near like.. allegro mainly. perhaps nocturne also had to win his trust before tito was like Okay with them being around the ghosts bc ksdjfds he’s a cancer at heart n has an unbearable amount of love to give

king of emojis tbh djfksdj i genuinely don’t think he knows how to send a text without an emoji unless they’re like.. actually rly upset.. but Usually big on emojis. every time that he gets the chance to say “no ❤️'' their soul leaves their body a little bit in excitement

tito’s favorite season is winter and every single year when it rolls around they’re devastated that it’s too warm in california for it to snow 😔 he’s never seen snow in his life but he loves it n is very determined to see it one day 

he’s a Can’t Drive gay 😔 but they grew up in the city so what do we rly expect from him? if we’re being honest with ourselves? nothing! instead they skateboard wherever they can n take the subway wherever they can’t <3 n is very jealous that ghosts don’t need subway cards

when they do happen to go on drives However they are the world’s greatest passenger seat dj .. n Yes it is a very elaborate radio show setup complete with regularly pausing for radio host talk show segments, calling in requests, and made-up giveaway games

they play the piano n the guitar n that’s all right now but i think he would Love to learn a new instrument they just never had the resources or the time 

speaking of music… it is definitely kind of on hold right now as far as actually performing But i think they definitely try to do little open mic night things when they can… perhaps he tried to push for the bar he works at to have an open mic night? idk <3 but even when playing music in public isn’t an option they’re always writing songs (or trying to) at home, usually in the late hours of the night after an evening shift at the bar 

i think tht he definitely still Does speak spanish but like. not as much with other people anymore after their dad passed away. partially bc luis was the primary person who spoke spanish w tito.. angela only spoke english.. so like once he was gone they didn’t really have a reason to speak it.. but Also even when he Does have a chance to i think it feels a little too much like it’s reopening the wound in a way tht tito just tries to Avoid

fictional characters tht inspired tito? julie molina kdsjfdsk <3 also miguel from coco n Honestly both julian And yadriel from cemetery boys

okay im so sorry for all the words <3 if ur still reading this thank u pls message me on discord let’s plot <3

[trickkombowerskru]

Road Trip-Henry Bowers Imagine

Request: Anonymous: Hey can you do an imagine where the reader gets a call saying she has to go pick up henry from juniper hills and she is like super successful and she isn't sure if she should but she ends up doing and they have a super cute road trip to her house and it's all fluffy. Also I love your work❤

A/N:I kinda went nuts with this prompt bc I really loved it so this one is real long strap in folks

Warnings: None

You exhale after an exhausting day at work, as you take off your coat. After an entire day of meetings, finalizing pieces, and reviewing editorials you were beat. You wanted nothing more than to get into the bath and have a glass of wine.

Then to follow that up by changing into sweats, and watching whatever new awful movie hit Netflix recently to turn your brain off and relax while you could before you had to be up the next morning to do it all over again.

As soon as you poured your wine your phone ringing obnoxiously loud killed the mood. You pick it up not recognizing the number at all, but seeing it was a call from Derry, Maine. Just upon seeing the town, a familiar feeling struck you, something that was pulling you to answer.

“Hi is this Y/N L/N?”

“This is she. “

“Hi this is Katherine with Juniper Hills Asylum.”

Why the hell was a random mental hospital calling you?

“Can I ask why you’re calling?”

“Ah yes, due to good behavior and new found evidence in the case that he did not commit these crimes, Henry Bowers is to be released early, and to the first person on his emergency contact form, which is you.”

Hearing his name again made you feel like you just got punched in the gut. And then you know the feeling. It was everything your first boyfriend had made you feel. You needed to take a minute to debate whether you would go.

“Oh I have another call I’ll call you back soon.”

“Alright.”

You think of all the pros and cons, you were in New York now which was a while 7 hours away, and it was one am, in order to get there by morning you’d have to leave at three or four. On the other hand you would feel terrible if he was thrown out on to the streets or something. Also the fact that the feelings were slowly coming back, along with memories.

You quickly call your assistant since you decided you would go. Who knows? Maybe it could even be fun.

“Hey Addison? Yeah something just came up I won’t be in tomorrow until late in the afternoon, maybe not at all.”

“Is everything alright Y?N?”

“Yeah fine, fine I just need to go on a business trip in Maine.”

“Oh okay I’ll be sure to get the email out”

“Thanks Addison you’re the best.”

You quickly called the number back.

“Hi Katherine I’ll be there.”

“Great tonight is his last night, he’ll be released to you when you arrive.”

“I can get there around 10.”

“10 am got it, we’ll let the other workers know.

You put your wine glass in the fridge and then proceed to grab a bunch of caffeine. By the time you had to go you were more than awake. The closer you got to Derry, the more memories came flooding back to you. Along with guilt, you remember when everything went down, and how you would go to see him.

Then you graduated and once every few days became once a week, once a week to once a month, and by the time you left Derry it was once every few months, and you had to break it off.

You hated hurting him like that, but you had no choice, seeing him even less would just hurt your relationship. You moved to New York for college, and worked your way up to the ladder to where you were now. Currently you were the CEO of a really large fashion magazine, really creating an empire.

You laughed to yourself remembering all the dumb shit you two got into, how he carved your initials into the kissing bridge, your first kiss, your first time, and just everything else.

It felt weird to be back in Derry, you never really forgot it, but you had somehow forgotten enough. Enough where you had made up enough to seem believable in interviews in case they had asked you about your childhood.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself down when you finally pulled into the parking lot. A sense of dread filled your entire body as you were lead down the halls into the lobby by a worker.

Before you entered you could see Henry waiting through the clear double doors, you smiled seeing how nothing had really changed. he still had that rough and tough small town charm and even still had his mullet, which you would be sure he got cut, later.

When the doors open, the look of awe on his face is so heartwarming. He had no idea it was you who was picking him up, his heart swelled seeing you again after all these years, looking somehow even more beautiful.

He was never mad at you for leaving, he actually understood it, and if he held you back, he would hate himself even more. So yeah while being stuck in this hellhole he still loved you and thoughts of you made him smile.

“Y/N,” he asks.

“Hey,” you say softly.

“Hey,” he replies.

Without missing a beat you are hugging, almost wanting to cry at the way he clutches to you as if you were his safe place.

You sign the papers and he practically takes your hand and runs out.

He takes a really deep breath in once outside.

“Aw finally some fresh fuckin’ air.”

“They didn’t let out out?”

“Eh sometimes, but not for long, I swear being stuck in those walls drove everyone even more fuckin’ nuts... it’s the little things you miss the most, but they add up ya know.”

“I guess get that. Like what?”

“Uh fresh air, a nice cig, good food, just to name a few,”

You nod the ride began extremely awkward. Not a word was said from you at first, worried he may have just been secretly mad or something.”

He seemed to pick up on this right away, as after about 25 minutes he looks over at you an smiles.

“I ain’t mad at you.”

“What?”

“For leavin’ I ain’t mad.”

You nod, feeling a weight taken off your shoulders.

And shortly after as cheesy as it was “I Melt With You”  comes on the radio. You smile and turn it up, looking over at him. It was your song back in the day because of a whole running joke. In no time you two are singing terribly at the top of your lungs and laughing.

“God remember that night we snuck out to go to prom. I still have no clue how I got you to go with me.”

“You were my girl, and beside I knew that shit would get me brownie points, and what happened it did.”

“Yeah yeah whatever you say Bowers, you still cut up the dance floor.”

“Maybe,” he smiles.

You pull to a halt when you reach one area.

He looks around and chuckles when he sees you get out of the car.

It was the kissing bridge, you look around and then see it, the carving he made all those years ago, still clear as day, you run your hand over it and grin.

You take a picture with you phone and then head back to the car.

“It’s still there. God I remember that night, on the way back from that shitty horror movie, first time you told me you loved me, after you did that carving.”

“Yeah...” he breaths out still taking in how gorgeous the sunlight bounced off the side of your face

The rest of the ride flies by filled with reminiscing and laughter.

You make stops every now and then at gas stations to refuel and get snacks and drinks.

Henry even surprises you with what you always used to get back in the day.

“You remembered?”

“Layer the blue and the red, blue on top, and then since for some reason it’s such a damn pair like we are a two pack of Slim Jims and I get one. ” he shakes his head with a laugh reciting what you used to say to him all the time when you went on snack “runs” back in the day as he pulls apart the pack, handing you one of them.

“I’m impressed. God it’s been so long since I have this absolute garbage combo!,” you exclaim taking a really big sip of the Slurpee.

“So where are we goin’ anyway? Where do you live?,” he questions a s he takes a bit of his Slim Jim

“New York,” you say his eyes light up and you can see a cute sense of childlike wonder in them 

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Once you hit New York you notice Henry’s eyes go large again  as he looks around at the hustle and bustle of the city and all the shops and stuff. Now though the crashing effects of the caffeine were starting to get to you, but you wanted to get Henry settled in, and then get him a few things, considering his old clothes definitely wouldn’t fit him, and lord knows he probably wanted out of that hoodie and uniform.

You take another sip hoping that the sugar will be enough to keep you up.

When you pull up just by the size of the outside of the building Henry was taken so back, but that was nothing compared to his face when he got inside.

“Holy shit Baby! This is like a fuckin’ mansion how do you not get lost? What do you do to live here?”

“I uh, I run a fashion magazine, and help design stuff, CEO of the company now actually,” you say feeling flustered hearing him calling you “Baby” again.

“God damn!”

“Yeah it’s pretty nice.”

“That’s an understatement.”

You laugh as he looks around.

“Okay so I’ll show you the bathroom so you can showers, and then I’ll just give you some men’s designs I have lying around here, then we can go out and I can get you a few things,”

“Hot water,” Henry says as you start walking him to one of the bathrooms.

“Huh?”

“That’s another small thing you miss, hot water.”

“They didn’t give you hot water?”

“They did at first, but then the damn shower busted and they never got it fixed.”

“Well you can take all the hot water you want, just leave your clothes on the chair there and uh I guess I’ll uh-”

“Burn em.”

“You want me to burn them?”

“I ain’t ever wearin’ that shit again, not like you wanna keep it.”

“Okay noted. I’ll burn it, and I’ll leave you fresh stuff in the guest room 2nd door to the left from here.”

He nods and starts stripping before you leave, making you laugh.

“Can you wait till I leave?”, you joke.

“Ain’t nothing you ain’t seen before,” he smirks, making your slight blush come back.

“Yeah well it’s been a while since I’ve seen it. I don’t know if anything’s changed<” you tease and drift your eyes downward.

“Only for the better Darlin’ not much to do in that hellhole, but walk around, watch the shit they had on the tv, read somethin’, or workout.”

You laugh again and shut the door, heading to your design room. to get him something casual, but nice. You luckily had some down played stuff from a shoot coming up. Sure you liked fresh stuff on your models, but you could always wash the stuff, and have it pressed to restore it. 

You quickly retrieve his outfit from the bathroom and lit your fire place throwing in stuff one by one slowly so it doesn’t grow too large, then grab some more caffeine to stay awake. 

Oh yeah you were going to for sure gong to crash at like 7 or 8 tonight and there was no way you were going to try and go in today, you’d be falling asleep during any meetings.

You pick up your phone, calling Addison again to let her know.

“Hey Girl.”

“Hey.”

“I just wanted to let you know that the maybe has definitely turned into a no go today, I am exhausted.”

“Aw I’m sorry, make sure you get some rest tonight okay?”

“Oh trust me I will soon. Just wanted to let you know that way you knew that you and Mark were still in charge and heads of the meetings and all that. I mean you can call or text if you need something during them of course, but yeah just wanted to give you a heads up on that. Plus they are smaller meeting anyway so I know for sure you guys will handle them perfectly.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course,” you say as you hear the shower finally shut off.

“I gotta go, but good luck I know you two will do great!”

“Alright. Thanks for the heads up. I can put an extra shot of espresso into your latte if you want.”

“Oh yes! I know I’ll definitely need it, I know I’m still gonna come in tired despite how much sleep I get tonight God knows I won’t wanna get up thanks. Okay see ya.”

“Bye.”

You turn around and your breath hitches for a minute when you see Henry in the outfit you had chosen. He almost looked entirely different then he did when you picked him up now that he was in actual clothes.

“So how do i look Sweetheart could I be in Vogue or what?,” he jokes striking a ridiculous pose with a smolder on his face.

“Sure. 

You let him pick out whatever he liked, along with helping him with a few things, and making sure he head a few nicer pieces and a suit, then go to the barber’s shop.

“Okay I know it’ll be shocking and all, but Hen....the mullet has to go you need to update your look for a full 2016 makeover.”

The look on his face was priceless.

You tell the guy how to fix it at least a bit, making sure the mullet goes, he could style it up if he wanted, but something told you he would just leave it with the slight bangs he had. either way it was for sure an upgrade.

When he was done he looked in the mirror, ran his hand through it a bit, you could tell he liked it. Then he puts his hand on the back of his neck, feeling it.

“Feels weird. Like I always had it.”

You laugh.

“You look good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you find yourself leaning in, in the slightest way to kiss him before catching yourself, your phone ringing saved you so you stepped out to take it. It was Addison making sure of a few things before the meeting started, but you were thankful for her timing.

You went back in mentally kicking yourself for that. Hoping he didn’t notice, which it didn’t seem he did. Like it would be weird after all this time to just pick things back up where they left off right? 

Like it had been forever and sure he may have been being flirty all day, but that could also just be because you were taking him in. Also would he even want that?

You shake your thoughts and then go to the apple store where you had the field day of teaching him his way around a modern phone. Were you spoiling him a bit? Yes. But you couldn’t help it, despite these feelings coming back, you wanted him to be able to find his way around the city, even if it wasn’t by your side.

Once you leave of course it starts to rain, you quickly rush into the house, changing into comfy clothes and grabbing a blanket. You eventually drift off, waking up somehow in your bed to the loud crash of thunder.

Did Henry carry you here? How long did it take him to find your room? Did he tuck you in or did you just pull up the blankets yourself? The thunder takes you out of your thoughts along with a squeaking sound. 

You check your phone it was midnight, you fell asleep around 7, and you had around 5 maybe 6 more hours before you had to get up, and head into the office. While you did wanna go back to sleep, you still felt pretty refreshed from that nap. First thing first though you wondered what that noise was. 

You pull on a hoodie and quickly find your source when Henry’s door was open. You see him toss and turn, seeming to be stuck in a nightmare. You knew he hated storms back then, they were harsh and loud, and reminded him of the lashes his father gave him.

It made sense that without any form of comfort over all these years, along with whatever else piled on top of that, that he would still be afraid. He wakes up in a gasp, wiping the cold sweat off of his forehead.

You gently knock on the door he looks over and slightly smiles seeing you.

“Hey,” you gently say.

“Hey Doll.”

“You still hate storms.”

He nods.

“Yeah. Yeah they're the fuckin’ worst.”

“Well now that we’re both up you uh, you want me to make some cocoa?”

“Yeah..sounds nice.”

“You still want that dash of cinnamon?”

“Please.”

“You got it”

He sits on the couch, hugging one of your pillows, as you get to work on the cocoa., when it’s finished you add the final touches, and can’t help but sneak a glance at him shirtless, when he releases the pillow to take the mug.

He was definitely right in that joke earlier you notice that he for sure had lots of muscle still built up. You try and shake yourself out of your thoughts, but this time it just holds there.

“Um do you wanna sleep in my room tonight? It just sounds like your fear has gotten worse. I’d hate to leave you alone with that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Once the cocoa is done, you put the mugs in the sink and go back to the couch. The thoughts cloud your mind again when he lays next to you, and you want nothing more than to either be held or to hold him. You just decide to let it out before it bottles up.

“Hey Henry?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you um...do you still have feelings for me?”

“That obvious huh?”

That took you for surprise.

“No actually I was in my head all day about it. When I got that phone call the other night some feelings came back, but once I got into Derry and saw you again they hit me like a damn bus. I just wasn’t sure how you felt.”

“Well now you do, the thoughts of you were the only thing that could get me to even crack a smile in that shit hole.”

“Do you...do you still love me?”

“Princess I never stopped.”

You lean up and finally after all these years kissed him again, and that was the final nail in the coffin with every single emotion blasting through your body. You pull away and he caresses your face.

“You had no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do that all day or to just do it again for so long.”

“Come ere’,” you say and as if it’s nothing has changed.

You remember the first time he came to you in the rain, not caring it was pouring or storming, he needed you after a particularly rough time from his dad. It was also the first time he came to you after his dad, and after a bit of comfort he told you the truth.

He shifted over into your arms, and you started to do what always used to calm him down, running your fingers through his hair.

“I missed you,” he says smiling up at you.

You kiss him again and quickly drift off again, getting back together with Henry or even really seeing Henry again was definitely not how you would have expected to spend a day, but you weren’t complaining.

He was here in your arms again and you were going to be here for him this time. You would be here to help him heal, to help him grow, and everything else.

[jzixuans]

Hey, I've been feeling down recently and was wondering if you had any Logince headcannons. Platonic or romantic work, whichever you feel more comfortable with. Sorry if I'm bothering you.

aw lad don’t worry about bothering me i’m glad to share some headcanons ! i hope you feel better soon!

now, might i interest you in some childhood friends-to-enemies-to-friends-to-lovers logince? [PREPARE FOR A LONG ASS BULLET FIC I’M SO SORRY (google docs says it’s 4.2k words oh my god)]

they’ve known each other since the first grade because oh my god they were neighbours

they were the kind of childhood friends that were aware of each other’s presence and they hung out a little on the playground and worked on group projects but they didn’t really click

there WERE occasions tho where their parents would sit them down together for play dates bc one or more of said parents were Occupied with Important Adult Stuff

and since this was way back when they were wee lil smols, they were hyperactive lil children

so they played lots of adventure games, lots of role-playing, play fighting, that kind of stuff (twas often the dashing daring prince accompanied by his wise magickal advisor)

okay, so maybe they did click, but only a little (so they say)

they liked most of the same stuff, reading, learning, doing stuff with all that knowledge in those big brains of theirs, and that was pretty much the base of their close-but-not-that-close-friendship

and then they got older, and as all kids do, they started prioritizing different things

logan still loved learning and applying that knowledge, but it was more of a ‘learn and apply what knowledge can make you really successful’ and that was how he found his love of science

for roman, it was more of a ‘take what you’ve learned and use it to create your own path to success’ because he planned to go into music and theatre

as a result of this, both boys were exceptional students, except logan cared maybe a little too much about the academics and roman not enough

as the years went by, logan threw himself into studying, making schedules and routines so that he could make sure he knows what he needs to know and maybe a little bit more on the side, who cares if he lost an hour of two of sleep?

roman just learned to go with the flow, so he took everything in stride, took in what he needed, left the rest, and focused on his art instead, even if he’s started to grow an unhealthy apathy to school

and maybe logan falls just short of perfect on his tests, and he looks over and roman has glowing one hundreds in red ink on his

logan looks back down at his and the teacher has written ‘Think outside the box!’

meanwhile logan answers every question in class with scary accuracy, beaming with pride whenever the teacher praises him, and after school that same day roman gets pulled aside with an ‘I know you’re smart, so why don’t you want to put in the work?’

of course logan’s parents wonder why his grades don’t match his progress work, and roman’s parents wonder how he can spend all his time singing and dancing and still come out with high nineties (“is he cheating?”)

and the two have been drifting apart enough as it was, but now they kind of hate each other because ‘why can’t i just be more like him?’

logan starts hating roman because ‘he doesn’t even CARE, how is he doing better than me?’ (part of him misses the days when roman cared so much about anything and everything)

roman starts hating logan because ‘he’s so stiff and condescending, why can’t he just be happy for me?’ (and part of him misses when logan would so willingly stand by his side as his faithful warlock advisor)

so naturally, competition just kind of,,,, grows between them, until they’re constantly at each other’s throats and everyone else watching the shitshow go down has absolutely no idea where the hell all this animosity came from

at this point logan has a new friend in virgil fray and roman has befriended patton hart (virgil and patton know not to bring up the boys’ ‘rivalry’)

of course, being neighbours, they can’t exactly escape each other, and their rooms are adjacent to each other’s (they used to just lean out their windows and talk side by side, but they haven’t in yEARS)

so it’s nearing summer, and it’s hot out so roman’s working on his homework with the window open when he hears this cry of frustration, the angry pushing back of a chair, and the throwing open of the door

his first thought is one of smug satisfaction knowing that logan is dealing with school worse than he is, but then a flash of black catches his eye underneath his window

he makes it to the window just in time to see logan hop the fence in his backyard, and that only means one thing: he’s going to the old park behind their houses

neither of them have touched that park in ages

roman is Intrigued™, so he caps his pen, turns off his lamp and tells his parents he’s going for a walk before dashing out the back door

when he gets to the park, logan’s somehow managed to climb on top of the roof of the play structure

and roman ain’t slick so he just stands at the bottom and yells up to him

and logan is Lost In Thought so he nearly falls off (lbr roman thought it was funny)

“what are you doing here?”

“well excuse me, suck-rates, i happened to notice that you weren’t doing too hot and wanted to see if you were okay.”

“like you’ve ever cared.”

“woah there, is blink 180-ew rubbing off on you?” 

“lay off of him.”

“alright, alright, fine. forgive me for checking in on you.”

“you have a horrible way of showing people that you care, then.”

“well you have a horrible way of being a good friend.”

it just kind of,,,, slipped out, and now both boys are Oh Shit

but both boys are also not the type to back down from their feelings so they kind of have the Silent Stare-Off of Stubborness

roman decides to be the bigger person (bc any chance to one-up logan) and cave first 

“so uh, what’s been bothering you?” (psh you thought he was gonna apologize first? not yet fam)

logan rolls his eyes bc this asshole amirite, but he wants to vent and this is probably his best opportunity to tell roman what’s really been bugging him

“i don’t know how you manage to do it.” 

“do what?”

“do so well in school! you don’t even try!” and damn dude that one stings because he sounds exactly like his parents and every other teacher

“so you’re angry because you’re jealous that i’m better than you at everything.”

“that’s not what i meant and you know it.”

“i’ll have you know that i do try.”

“but you don’t care.”

“about school.”

“what?”

“i mean yeah, sure, i don’t care about school that much because i don’t really need it to go into music or theatre, but i still do my work.”

“but―”

“don’t you dare say anything about my grades because you know damn well that you’re smarter than me.”

“am not―”

“besides, weren’t you the one that told me in the fifth grade that ‘grades don’t mean shit’? my my, what a foul mouth for ten-year-old logan crane.”

“shut up.”

“nah.”

and by now logan’s decided that roman’s probably not going to rip his head off so he climbs down to stand beside him

and maybe the sun is setting bc i’m a classy romantic

and they’re having a Soft Quiet Moment

“…please don’t tell me that school was the only reason why u hated me.”

“… why did you hate me?” smh lo you’ve got to stop deflecting

“…”

“are you kidding me.”

“YOU STARTED IT”

“what no you did shut up”

and wOw now it’s awkward so 

“oh would you look at that, it’s getting late, my parents are gonna think that i’m slacking again, better go. good talk let’s do this again sometime okay byee” and whoop roman just zooms off

and logan realizes that maybe roman’s life isn’t as perfect as he makes it out to be

but too late roman’s gone and he doesn’t want to look like he’s following him so he waits a good half hour before trekking back home

logan doesn’t finish his homework that night because he’s too busy rethinking the past many many years

the next day, he’s frantically trying to cram his work in during his lunch period

virgil takes one look at him and he says “dude, are you okay?”

“no”

“cool, let me know if i can do anything to help.” and maybe it’s a cold answer but logan and virgil are cold edgy people so that’s just how they do

after like twenty minutes virgil takes out his earbuds like “you haven’t complained or sent one angry glare in roman’s direction what the fuck is up kyle”

“i’m just…. stressed.”

virgil, externally: “yeah of course i feel u dude.”

virgil, internally: “i’ve seen you start a project at 3am the morning it was due without breaking a sweat but go off i guess.”

skip to later that night, logan finished his shit (he needed a distraction from the Roman Crisis) so he leans out his window for some Fresh Summer Night Air

and oho would you look at that roman had that sa m e  i d ea

but it’s one of those clear nights where you can actually see the stars and logan just got roman off his mind so he’s a lil distracted

but of course roman notices and now that they’ve gotten some of their ‘rivalry’ out of the way, he remembers how much logan loved to drag him out to the park as late as they were allowed to stay up to watch the stars, and logan looks so at peace here (he’s only really seen logan’s angry face recently)

roman wants to say something, because part of him really wants to make up with logan

but before he can work up the courage he’s interrupted by his mom calling him

“roman! are you done all your work?”

“yeah, mom! almost!”

“you better be going to sleep early tonight!”

and roman is about to duck back inside before he gets yelled at even more but oh no too late logan’s already noticed and now he’s staring at him

“uh, hey.”

“hi.”

“are you, uh, are you feeling better?”

“for the most part, yes.”

“that’s good. look, uh, i gotta go, but i’ll see you at school?”

“oh, right, yes. good night, roman.”

“night, lo.”

roman falls back into his room with a crash because ‘oh my god why was that more nerve-wracking than any performance i’ve ever done?”

logan sinks back against his wall with a sigh because ‘is roman avoiding me now?’

the next day at school the two actually say hi to each other in the hallway and it’s like the entire world stops moving. students are staring and whispering, virgil and patton exchange looks, and logan and roman only just now realize how big their rivalry had gotten

the two lock eyes and burst into laughter because something as simple as a passing greeting in the hallway has turned the school on its head

and the rest of the school has absolutely no idea what just happened when the two part ways, virgil and patton trailing behind them, dumbfounded

they catch each other on the way home, though they walk in silence

that night, they’re back at their windows, side by side once more, and they exchange small talk

a couple weeks later, exams are coming up around the corner and both boys are stressed out of their minds

logan’s still working well past midnight when he hears the old creak of roman’s window opening

“i see your lamp. are you still up?” he hears roman whisper, and maybe it’s the late hour, but his voice is hoarse and wobbly, and logan is most certainly not used to hearing that

“that’s a ridiculous question, of course i’m still up,” logan replies, still not looking up from his computer because his history final project is due in two days

except roman doesn’t reply, and all he can hear from his direction is shaky laughter, and then a wet sniff

“of course i’m ridiculous. it’s not like i’m smart or anything.”

“what?”

“if i were smart i wouldn’t’ve procrastinated this english paper and i could probably be getting some sleep right now,” roman continues like he forgot that logan was there

“roman―“

“and sure, i can do other stuff, but it’s not like it matters or anything, not to my mom, or mr. schmitt, or you―”

“roman!”

roman’s babbling stops and logan worries that he’s scared him off until he looks up and sees roman leaning halfway out his window and now logan’s worried that roman’s going to fall out and break his neck on his patio

roman’s eyes are red and his nose is rubbed raw from crying. his usually-perfectly-coiffed hair is messy and greasy from running his hands through it, his clothes are rumpled, and his grip on the windowsill is trembling

yet he’s still half out the window, eyes comically wide, and logan can’t help but shake his head at how big a dork he is

“i’m sorry.”

roman’s so startled that his elbows buckle and he barely manages to land back in his room so he doesn’t fall (didn’t expect logan to apologize first, didya?)

he’s barely back out the window when logan starts talking again

“i shouldn’t have dismissed you so quickly. you are intelligent and you are capable and you absolutely didn’t deserve any of my anger or bitterness or hatred. for that, i’m sorry.”

roman is, SHOCKED, to say the least. when they were kids, usually it was roman who apologized first, if at all, logan only after being prompted to by parents or teachers (which might’ve contributed to their drifting apart)

“i’m― thank you.” 

there’s a pause because it’s late and logan is really really bad at this

“i’m sorry, too. i only really hated you because everyone kept comparing us. that wasn’t really fair of me.”

“i guess not.”

“so i guess we both agree that we’re both assholes.”

“essentially.”

“cool.”

“what were you going to talk to me about?” and roman has an ‘oh yeah’ because he completely forgot what he came out here for

“i guess i just missed doing this.”

“i did too.”

and they’re not completely in the clear, because they have years of hurt to clean up, but in that moment, they just sit and talk, and maybe missing one assignment amongst a whole year of perfect grades won’t hurt

they’re butts tired in the morning but neither of them regret it, regardless of virgil and patton’s comments of ‘how much sleep did you get last night? you look like you’re about to pass out.’

that weekend, their finals are all handed in, exams don’t start until the next week, and they’re both sick and tired of studying so logan invites roman over and they lounge in his star-speckled room, talking about everything and nothing

roman’s busy going through logan’s stuff (“what? i haven’t been in here since the summer before the seventh grade”) so logan has a free minute to just,, watch him, and he just now realizes how much he missed having this ball of energy in his life (in a positive way)

after that day, the tension between them is almost gone and conversations are so much easier (virgil and patton get to sigh in relief because ‘thank god, i love them, but they needed to get their shit together’)

but alas, exams approach and roman calls logan late one night, in tears and stressed beyond relief, begging him to meet him at the park (he would’ve called patton, but patton’s never really been under forced academic pressure, and logan’s just a smidge more familiar for him)

logan’s out of the house without another thought, and he sees roman sitting up on the monkey bars with his knees tucked up to his chest (‘oh my god roman don’t you dare fucking fall’)

“i’m sorry, you were probably sleeping, but i just needed to get out of the house and―”

“please don’t apologize for reaching out. what― what’s wrong?”

“i just can’t! my mom’s been threatening to pull me out of music if i don’t do well on this exam because ‘math is more important than music’ but i don’t know anything! i’ve been scraping by pretty well on tests but i can’t fucking study and none of the information is sticking and―”

“roman, you’re hyperventilating. you need to breathe―”

“don’t tell me what to do!” roman regrets this Immediately because logan recoils his hand like he’s been burned. great, just another thing to feel Bad about. “i-i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

if this was a month or two ago, logan would’ve had a scathing remark about roman’s inability to control himself but now he just places his hand back on roman’s shoulder and taps gently with his finger

“you remember that school assembly from grade nine? the one about mental health?”

“yeah?”

“can you do that breathing exercise?”

“probably”

ten minutes later, roman’s cried himself out and he’s stopped hyperventilating but he can’t seem to stop his hands from shaking

logan has absolutely no idea what to do but he’s seen patton do it before with some of the younger kids so he holds his arms out (v awkwardly) and goes, “would you― would it be― would a hug help?”

this gets a lil laugh out of roman because he’s trying and that’s adorable so now he’s cry-laughing into logan’s shoulder

“your mother sounds an awful lot like your horrendous dragon witch. i suppose we must simply team up to defeat her.”

roman draws away so fast he bumps into logan’s chin

“OH MY GOD YOU REMEMBER THAT”

“like i could forget it”

“oh my god”

“i mean, i wanted to, but those were… fun times.”

“hell yeah they were.”

“when’s your exam? i can help you study, if you want.”

“in about seven hours.”

“…change of plans, you’re coming back with me, you’re going to sleep for six, wake up, get a cup of tea, and we’re going to do a brief review before school.”

“…okay.”

so they walk back to logan’s house (roman makes sure to tack a note to his bedroom door for his parents, he’ll face the consequences later), and they just, collapse into a pile of leggy boi on logan’s bed (they were too tired to argue about formalities)

logan wakes up with roman clinging to his chest and he very sorely misses that warm cuddly heat but Nope he is Determined™ to help roman get that bread

so he wakes roman up, plops his notes down in front of him and tells him to flip through it while he goes to make breakfast

roman is a jittery Mess all the way up to the exam, but logan promises that he’d be waiting in the cafeteria for him (it was his lunch period’s exam day so he a Free Boi) and he leaves roman with a “you are more capable than you know. you already have everything you need to succeed. and no matter what, you are valid.”

two hours later, roman comes out and he has Zero Confidence in his results, but logan greets him with a clap on the shoulder and the reassurance that “at least you’re done with this.”

they meet up with virgil and patton and go for lunch, and oho, perhaps this is the beginning of a New Squad

at the end of the week, on exam review day logan’s waiting out in the hallway to go to his next class to see his results when he sees roman sprinting down the hall with the biggest grin on his face

“i got an 84!!! thank you, you beautiful blessed nerd!!” because honestly? roman expected nothing more than a 52 so this was a very pleasant surprise, and now roman’s hugging logan so tight that logan swears he heard his elbow pop

the other students of the school are still processing because it was literally only been a little over a month since they started talking to each other again, and anyone out of the loop just got hella whiplash

(and if this burst of happiness and gratitude left a weird, bubbly feeling in logan’s stomach, well, he’ll just keep that to himself)

the next few summer days are spent hanging out, in their rooms, at their windows, at the park, and sometimes, virgil and patton join them

sometimes they’re in roman’s room, roman typing away on his computer with a dozen open notebooks scattered around him while logan lays on his bed, and the two bounce ideas back and forth for the next adventures of the daring prince c and his faithful advisor logos

and then they’re two weeks into the summer break, virgil’s off visiting family in china for the next few weeks and patton’s in the caribbean, so they’re just aimlessly tossing a ball back and forth in roman’s room while they talk about their futures and stuff because “oh my god they’re gonna be high school  s e n i o r s  in the fall“ ((‘gee, blink, don’t u think that’s a lot of drama for 16 y/os?’ yes absolutely, shut up))

roman chucks the ball at logan, who catches it in one hand and he’s smirking and roman has to take a moment to catch his breath because ‘why was that so hot omg’

over the next couple weeks the two are basically joined at the hip, and when they’re not hanging out, they’re texting or calling each other and it finally feels like they’re really making up for lost time

at the same time, they may or may not be falling for each other and they have no idea what to do with these Feelings™ 

logan doesn’t know how to what to do because virgil is v aro and the only other person he can talk to is roman, whOM HE HAS A CRUSH ON

meanwhile roman is v frantically texting patton like bro pls call me as soon as u get back there’s a cute boy hELP

it’s nearing the beginning of august when the two go into town to get food and ice cream and they’re laughing and joking and waving melted strawberry ice cream in each other’s faces and they’re sitting on a bench when they lean in real close mid laugh and ‘oh no his face is rIGHT THERE’

they draw away real quick but both of them realize that ‘that wasn’t horrible?’ and they slowly look back at each other and ‘oh.’

“is this―”

“um―”

“is this― i mean if you want it to be ―  is this a date?” and roman holds his breath because ‘dear god, please say yes’

“i’d like it to be, yes.” logan is terrified because he does  n o t  want to fuck this up

except now roman has the biggest grin and he absolutely does not care that he’s got ice cream dripping onto his leg

roman tackles logan into a hug because ‘he’s on a date with logan fucking crane’

logan is thrilled because now he gets to keep this excitable ball of energy who’s made him smile and laugh more in the past couple months than he has in years

(no diss against virgil and patton, but they can’t relate to logan and roman as well as, well, logan and roman)

they both have ice cream on themselves but neither can be bothered to care at this moment because they’re so damn happy

even after they go home that night, they stay up real late at their windows, side by side, just appreciating the company

it’s the next day, and they’re at the park, the sun is setting ((listen,,,, it’s an aesthetic)) and they’re sitting on the swings, holding hands ((they’re in love, babey!!))

“are we… does this make us boyfriends now?” logan is a v technical, official terminology person, of course he’d be the one to ask

“if you want to be boyfriends.”

“i don’t think i’d be asking if i didn’t.”

“then yeah, yeah we’re boyfriends.”

logan walks back into his house with a giant smile, and he plays that event over and over and over again in his mind as he lies awake in bed that night

roman calls patton immediately

and they may or may not scream about it together

logan sends virgil a short text that goes along the lines of ‘roman and i are dating now’ but in real life he’s so giddy that his fingers shake as he types it out

they have their first kiss in roman’s bedroom a couple days later

when school rolls back around in the fall, they walk through the doors hand in hand

and now their rivalry is nothing but a legend that the seniors tell the freshmen whenever someone complains about ‘that one couple that keeps making out in the math wing stairwell, excuse me, i just want to get to class’

[punpunsutatta]

I was tagged by @michrocosmos, thank u catherine! i filled this out last night but then fell asleep right after 😅

1. What do you prefer to be called by people?

My name! Ayesha (pronounced EYE-sha) seems to have a million nickname opportunities (just ask my family 🙄), but I’m also picky abt who can call me what (it makes sense in my head ok, i can't just associate u with someone ELSE's designated nickname!) so just Ayesha pls

2. When is your birthday?

August 7th!

3. Where do you live?

east coast, U-S-of-A

4. Three things you are doing right now?

Uhhh well I'm laying down bc it's late rn, I'm also contemplating what to watch because decent sleep schedule?? we don't know Her! and then of course i'm stressing about next semester (bc of COVID and other issues) in the back of my mind at all times 🙃

5. Four fandoms that have piqued your interest right now?

The Untamed (one day I will finish this show.. One Day) and tbh from what I’ve seen Richie Rich looks interesting. My Engineer is good but on hiatus rn. Lastly i’ve been waiting for Love, Victor to come out and it's finally here! I watched the 1st ep live on twitter earlier. the acting seems a little eh but imma still watch tho lol (EDIT: i rewatched ep 1 and... if he doesn't get with andrew or felix what's the point)

6. How’s the pandemic treating you?

tbh it’s been... pretty rough. Like from March until maybe 2-ish weeks ago it hit really hard where I am. every day a couple thousand new cases, easily. I personally haven’t lost anyone Alhamdulillah but I know people who have. Anyway yeah it's been getting better recently & everyone is taking that plus the weather as a green light to go back to normal. like tf, this ain't over!!

7. A song you can’t stop listening to right now?

Tala - Ace Banzuelo ever since that RamKing edit weeeeeeks ago (still waiting on a lyric translations vid 😔), After Hours- The Weeknd, and an old Punjabi folk song. i know, my brain doesn’t make sense to me either.

8. Recommend a movie!

Ok so i REALLY don’t care how dumb this sounds, the disney movie Hercules is my absolute FAVORITE movie and i love it so much. it's probably a mix of childhood nostalgia, love for the blatant SASS, & the gorgeous art style. older disney movies are so visually pleasing! i could talk about them forever. i actually watched The Princess & the Frog earlier today & man... the love & care behind the animation/ design of that movie 😭. soso pretty to look at.

9. How old are you?

23, almost 24

10. School, university, occupation, other?

college got me all the way Fucked Up

11. Do you prefer hot or cold?

Is this weather-wise? I'm a summer baby so i would rather be too hot than freezing cold. drink-wise i prefer cold

12. Name one fact others may not know about you!

Ummm it's kinda random but i was thinking abt it earlier today, so here goes. my grandmothers both have the same exact name! Noor Begum :) It’s so cute when they call each other up, "Noor Begum" this, "Noor Begum" that. it's like all these years later they still get a kick out of addressing someone else with their own name lmao

13. Are you shy?

I mean..... I think there’s a certain level of friendship u gotta reach to Unlock The Dumbass, ya feel me? In general it's not too too high bc i'm a clown at heart but it differs depending on the situation & how we met (online, in person, etc).

(OMG the voice challenge going around a little while ago?? I had to record mine like 5 times at least 🤦🏽‍♀️ take from that what you will.)

14. Do you have any preferred pronouns?

She/her *insert joke about how I prefer to go by HRH*

15. Any pet peeves?

🤔 ngl I have some obsessive compulsive tendencies so a lot does bug me, but for pet peeves I'd say knuckle-cracking & snapping fingers to get someone's attention

16. What’s your favourite ‘dere’ type?

LMAO this would’ve been a good question for 5 years-ago Ayesha

17. Rate your life 1-10. 1 is crappy & 10 is best it could be

idek how to rate my whole life, that's too hard. but, as of recent, life is....... it could be better. I’m usually not one to open up that much but like.... I’m feelin pretty fuckin low. feels like i've been in & out of a panic attack the past 5 days. so uh yeah, love that for me (EDIT: day 6 wasn't so bad! we're gettin there)

18. What’s your main blog?

LMAO no thanks, i can't be held accountable for anything on there pre-2016. not like for racist reasons but for "i've been on tumblr so long it's basically a timeline of all the cringey fandoms i've been in/ a testimony to how DEEP in them i was" type reasons 😓

19. List your side blogs and what they’re used for.

see above (just know there’s definitely a couple. i’ve been on this hell site too long y’all, i got bored along the way)

20. Is there anything you think people need to know about you before becoming friends with you?

She a dumbass (also self-deprecating af lmao could u tell) but hey, She loyal!!

tagging: @babbyglitz @nerd-squash @tinewatleo @svt-district 💗

[artlessictoan]

this time it’s an ao3 req, for inosaku running into each other after years apart when butch!sakura has grown into herself more! y’know my original plan was like a silly ‘childhood friend moves away but comes back Hot’ bit of fluff, but then Shower Thoughts hit me like a fucking sledgehammer and now there are more emotions than i'm fit to deal with tbqh. canon-verse, except sak left konoha sometime after the chunin exams and she also has wood release bc unlike kishi I’m not a coward

(requests open)

(ao3 mirror)

---

Shit, shit, shit!

Ino’s breathing was ragged as she launched herself off the wet, muddy ground and up into the trees. The chakra coating her feet kept her steady on slick bark, but her reserves were dwindling and her concentration was split between tracking her enemy and formulating a plan on the fly.

This was supposed to be a simple mission; she was going to murder Shikamaru when she got back to Konoha.

But thoughts of home could wait, right now she had an S-rank fugitive to lead as far away from her terrified genin team as her battered body would allow. They were safe enough for now – Yui was injured, but she at least remained conscious and she had Haru and Risa with her to care for her, Ino could only pray that they’d followed her orders to head for the nearest village and gotten there safely – but Ino herself was running out of air and energy, her broken arm jolting painfully in its crude sling with every jump she made.

The sound of snapping branches behind her was growing closer. She kept her gaze on the path ahead, but had to bite her lip tightly to keep her head clear.

She could recall most of the vital information from the man’s entry in Konoha’s Bingo Book; a former Kiri-nin, fled his country over twenty years ago, known to use lightning jutsu and experiment with chakra amplifying techniques, something of a lone wolf, suspected of multiple counts of kidnapping and human experimentation.

On any other day, she could easily take this guy, but they’d stumbled into an ambush and she’d had three young, unprepared students to protect. He got off a lucky shot and she had been forced to flee long enough to get her team out of harm’s way, before doubling back to lead him far, far away from them. No way was she letting some filthy low-life get a hold of her kids, nor did she intend to let him get away and hurt anyone else.

Now she just had to make a plan to beat him.

She didn’t get long to plan however, when a bolt of lightning streaked past her and severed the branch she had just been readying to land on before she could get there. Too late to change course, she could only brace herself for a rough landing.

Her broken arm screamed as she hit the ground, even her best attempts to shield it not doing anything to stop the tremor that spread through her entire body when she landed heavily on her back. No time to waste thinking about pain though; she sprang to her feet just in time to dodge his follow-up attack. He landed behind her and threw a jutsu-enhanced punch at the back of her head, she ducked, leg spinning out to cut his out from under him, he jumped, flipping over her to land at her back again, growling, she rolled forward and – with a chakra boost – launched herself forwards, darting between trees and trying to gain some distance.

Maybe she could create a few clones, send him on a chase while she hid and prepared one of her family’s techniques, she didn’t want to take the risk of mind-body switch in this scenario, but maybe mind distur-

She just barely dodged the fist of lighting aimed at her already-injured arm, her breathing ragged as she ducked away from his constant attacks, never giving her the chance to counter.

Her foot caught a root as she backed away and she could feel herself falling. Fuck.

A shrill, ear-splitting screech cut through the air, leaving Ino both jittery and dazed as she tried to work out what the hell he’d just done. But, when her eyes landed on him, he was already leaping away from her, dodging out of the way of the tree crashing down where he had just been standing, his own eyes wide as saucers as he wildly looked around.

Less than a second after he landed, another tree began to scream its descent.

Someone else is after him? She barely had time to act on that thought – instinctually searching out for chakra signatures nearby – when, in a flurry of leaves and petals, her opponent was ensnared in twisting branches of a sapling cherry tree.

Her stomach twisted violently. His vain struggling against the chakra-strengthened branches went completely ignored by her, as the third party finally stepped out of the forest.

Ino didn’t need to see her to know; the painfully familiar touch of her chakra was more than enough.

Pink hair – the same shade as the tiny flowers dotting the wooden prison – was cut close to her head, arms as thick as tree trunks and darkened by sunlight were left bare, as were the well-muscled legs clad only in plain, practical shorts. The years had been good to her, she looked stronger, and not just physically.

She didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to draw the woman’s attention, didn’t want to discover that she had been forgotten.

The word escaped her lips regardless.

“S-Sakura?”

Those eyes, older, a little tired perhaps, but still sparkling in the dappled light filtering through the leaves high above them. “Ino!”

Before she could formulate a single coherent thought, she was lifted in crushing arms and spun wildly around. Under different circumstances, she might’ve found pleasure in being held tightly in warm, sturdy arms, but as it was, she had a broken arm trapped between their bodies.

Her sharp hiss quickly stopped the exuberant greeting and she was carefully dropped.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just got so excited,” Sakura said, hands flapping vaguely near her injured arm as though it might drop off any second, “here, let me-”

Fighting every aching desire within her, Ino jerked away, glancing over her shoulder to check on the criminal still trapped within Sakura’s jutsu – and the bombshell that the girl, no, she was a woman now, had somehow learned Wood Release in the years they’d been apart was something she would just have to unpack later – examining his chakra to ensure he was truly unconscious and not just faking it, before turning her back to her oldest and dearest friend.

“Ino?”

She withheld a shudder, concealing the motion as she stepped forwards. “I can’t exactly stop and catch up; I’ve got to find my students.”

“Oh, I think I met them already,” Sakura said, jogging ahead to cut her off, “three kids, the tall girl had a wounded leg and the boy was wearing a hat? They’re the ones who told me their sensei still needed help.” 

Her good hand flew to Sakura’s shirt, gripping tightly. “Where are they, tell me you didn’t just leave them alone-”

The low chuckle simultaneously made her want to punch the woman and swoon.

She settled for glaring.

“Relax, they’re with Tsunade-shishou and she’s already healed their wounds-” the relief must’ve been obvious on her face, because Sakura’s lips quirked up slightly “-it was actually a bit of a struggle getting them to stay behind.”

Sakura once again reached for her arm, Ino shrugged her off and turned away. “I should still go see them, make sure they’re alright.”

“Hey, stop worrying for a second and let me help you.” Placing her hand on Ino’s uninjured shoulder, Sakura slowly pushed her to sit on the spongy moss covering the ground, then, with the gentlest touch Ino had ever known, she pulled her broken arm out of its sling and set to work.

Ino stared at the expression of pure concentration on her old friend, the hard lines of her profile softened by the light green glow emanating from her hands. She had been ignoring the pain fairly well until now, but the sudden relief that flooded through her nerves left her feeling a little light-headed, which was perhaps why she decided to open her mouth.

“Since when can you do that?” She winced at how bitter she sounded. Shit, she really had intended to stay calm and civil, but her idiot brain was ignoring every pleading wail of her fool heart to just accept the gift and dig her fingers through that short, messy hair and kiss the beautiful, wonderful jerk already.

If Sakura noticed her tone, she didn’t say so and her eyes flicked over to meet hers for only a second before returning to her arm. “Not long after I left, I guess.”

“And… that?” she asked, glowering at the man held limp in his prison.

“That... was a more recent development, took me ages to figure it out, but it’s pretty cool though, right?” If she hadn’t been busy with her healing, Ino had the awful suspicion that she would’ve flexed her arms, or waggled her eyebrows as well.

She snapped her arm away from Sakura’s grasp the second the healing was complete, absently twisting her joints to regain some feeling in them. “That’s one word for it,” she muttered, pushing herself to her feet and staring into the forest. If she really stretched her senses, she could pick up the three familiar chakra signatures of her students; she started walking towards them, tossing a glance over her shoulder. “I assume you can take our friend there to the necessary authorities.”

“What?” Once more her path was blocked, this time by a rapidly sprouting sapling. “Ino, we haven’t seen each other in so long, why are you so desperate to get away?”

“Because I’ve got a team to take care of. I don’t have the luxury of shirking my responsibilities.”

Clearly Sakura was done ignoring her not-so-subtle cattiness, judging by the hint of frustration to her voice as she said, “Are you mad at me for something?”

Ino stared at the flowers blooming in front of her nose and hated the little part of her that got excited at seeing tiny purple buds mixed in with the pink. She immediately shut her eyes against the sight and tried desperately to hold on to the ball of anger deep in her chest, threatening to dissolve into shadows and slip through her fingers any second.

She had imagined this day for so long now, played out so many different scenarios and responses – anger, joy, grief, love – but now that Sakura was here, real and close, the potential she’d fallen for as a girl, finally realised, bolder and more beautiful than she ever could have dreamed…

“It’s been over fourteen years Sakura! You can't just show up out of nowhere and act like nothing’s wrong!” Ino was on the verge of tears and even she couldn’t tell whether she was aiming to sound furious or distressed, but she pushed on, refusing to open her eyes, or turn back around, because she just knew that the second she looked Sakura in the face, all would be forgiven. “Where the hell have you been? Why did you leave?”

The long silence that followed her outburst was crushing.

Something silky and soft brushed against her cheek and, if she wasn’t intimately familiar with the texture of petals and leaves from her work, she might’ve leapt out of her skin. Instead she just let the flower wipe away the tear that had slipped free of her eye.

When Sakura finally spoke again, her voice came from just a few inches behind her, low and calming, “It wasn’t a decision I made lightly and I can’t pretend I don’t have some regrets leaving the way I did… but I don’t regret leaving.” Gentle calm, quickly turned to barely restrained excitement and Ino smiled at the enthusiasm in her old friend’s voice despite herself. “There’s so much out in the world, so much I’ve learned, ways I’ve grown, if I’d stayed, I never would’ve had the opportunity to learn healing from Tsunade-shishou, or develop my own kind of Wood Style! Konoha… it held me back, maybe not deliberately, but now that I’ve been outside it for so long, I can see just how much it needs to change.”

Opening her eyes and slowly turning around to face the woman, Ino had to accept that she had lost whatever battle she was fighting with herself.

Really, she’d lost the second Sakura showed up, eyes and soul blazing.

“I guess I can understand that,” she said, rubbing at the damp tracks across her cheeks, “but you didn’t even explain it, when you told me you were going away to train for a while, I thought you meant for a few weeks, but I kept waiting and you never came back and I didn’t even know what was happening, if you were even still safe.”

Sakura at least had the grace to look ashamed. “Yeah, that was pretty shit of me, I probably should’ve at least written to you more, but I just… you were more than a best friend to me, you were my idol, everything I wanted to be. And I needed to become someone you could love.”

She scoffed before she could stop herself, before shaking her head. “You idiot, I always loved you.”

A soft blush settled on her cheeks, but Sakura’s smile held not a spec of embarrassment, just a soft, subtle kind of melancholy. “I know, but…” She looked down at herself, hands fidgeting with the fabric of her shirt before she continued, in a voice that shook, just a little, at the edges, “But, before I could love you – as a person, not an idea – I had to learn how to love myself.”

Ino bit her lip and hesitantly reached out, laying her hand gently over Sakura’s. “So, do you? Love yourself I mean?”

She glanced down at the hand encasing her own, before slowly following the line of her arm back up to her face. Her gaze was tender, but assured. “Yeah,” she said with a short laugh, every trace of sadness lifting from her face in the wake of her bright smile.

It was crooked and a bit too wide, showing off teeth that had probably been knocked loose more than once, and it was the most beautiful Ino had ever seen her.

“Yeah, I really do.”

“And-” she didn’t care that her hand was trembling against Sakura’s as she stepped closer; close enough to count the freckles dusted across her nose and marvel at the myriad shades of green in her eyes “-do you love me?”

Sakura stepped forward herself, tilting her neck slightly to look her in the eye. “You even have to ask?”

Before she could think of an adequate response to that, she was tugged down and warm lips were pressed against hers in a feather-light kiss. Ino pressed closer, sliding her free hand behind Sakura’s neck to hold her in place as they giggled into each other’s skin. They stood like that for what felt like an eternity, kissing chaste but oh-so-sweet, occasionally stopping to just lean their foreheads together and share in their equally wobbly smiles.

Eventually though, they had to wake up from their fantasy come to life, when the long-forgotten prisoner began to stir and immediately started cursing them both.

“C’mon, lets get back to your team before Tsunade starts teaching them gambling tricks,” Sakura said, pulling away to tear the jail from the ground and sling it – trunk, roots, criminal and all – over her shoulder.

Ino was not at all ashamed to admit that she swooned.

“And… maybe I could come back with you? I’ve been away from home for way too long.” The question was a little uncertain, as though Sakura was still worried that she might be rejected.

The hand Ino offered was taken without question and they both began walking toward home.

---

[sweetdeathwrites]

You Are The Right One

Pairing: Gokudera Hayato/Reader

Summary: Gokudera knows what you mean to him. But what does he mean to you? 

Warnings: fluff, romance, some sexual situations/suggestiveness (i.e. Gokudera is thirsty), angst

Word Count: 6,929

(Songfic to You Are The Right One by Sports)

(re/cross?posted from my AO3 and Luna! Original A/N below)

(Hi!! I know I've been gone a long time and I'm SORRY!! I've been going through a lot of stuff (I've been in 3 productions since the last time I've posted .. i think it's only 3.. but I've been a NAMED character in 2 out of 3!! the third one doesn't count bc it was a bunch of skits and so strict plot... so i guess that means... i was a named character in BOTH of my productions?~ I just performed in Grease 2 days ago on friday as Jan, my twinkie girl!! I got to eat twinkies on stage!! It was v exciting and I had a blast! some people I know from the hawaii theatre came down to see me and one of my dad's movie friends and they loved me! one of them told my mom i'm going to broadway! haha!!! ^v^ isn't that sweet? I don't think so but that's a lovely hope, isn't it? I'd like to dedicate this fic to someone who means the world to me, the lovely GuardianAngel07! I love you so much and I know that you're going through a lot right now and I just want you to know I'm always here for you, no matter what, and I know that you are busy and have a lot on your mind, and I just want you to know I'm never mad if we don't talk for a while! I think you get a little worried and feel guilty when we don't talk, but that's not it at all! I care for you so much and if your mental health needs you to take a break, then TAKE that break, honey!!!1! I'm always here to support you and I want what's best for you, mentally, physically, and emotionally!! I care for you a whole lot, okay? I'm always in your corner!!! I'm sorry that this fic isn't what I originally planned to gift to you (the original was much sweeter!! and less angsty!!) but this was the one that was most finished and I figured that anything with our lovely KHR boys would help to cheer you up! I hope you like it!!,, Uhm.... I've also got a lot planned! I released a LONG hannibal fic on AO3 and it's not the best bc I started it 2 years ago.yikes... but I'm finally gonna write for it again after a year but I'm going to revamp it (at least fix the grammar!) before I release it here! It's v violent and prolly gonna get really sexual too, so there's a warning, but i'll warn again when I actually post it. to be truthful, I had this almost fully done for months. I just hated it and hated it and hated it. I've been hating my writing a lot recently which isn't good bc I want to finish a book before I graduate and I'm taking an AP english exam on the 16th, so it's awful timing. I haven't been doing the best but I'm looking forward to summer........ only 18 more days left before I'm free.... then I have summer then I'm a senior and ..yikes....;;; but I've got some summer plans! I'm going to cut and dye my hair (I just realized nothing is stopping me from getting a Guzma cut and dye... then I can dye my hair pink!! and any other color after!!!) and I'll visit a friend in alaska, then I'll get a job somewhere.......... i got no college fund........... sorry for dragging on and on!! uhhhh just expect more from me (hopefully soon..... @GuardianAngel07 i hope ur ready for more awful songfics from me.... because i've written some reeeeaaaaallll angsty and sad ones, already with u in mind!! why do you always get the worst of the bunch.......,,,) love u all! and please leave a review if u enjoyed this! I seriously would've stopped posting all together if it wasn't for some incredibly kind people (looking at you, GA07!!) and a recent review for my hannibal fic on AO3 (or rather, reviews. yes, this person left MULTIPLE. very detailed and heartfelt, and I was giddy for days after!! So if you want more, PLEASE leave a review!! it's not fun to post and feel like you're just yelling into a void!! yell back at me!)

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You were the right way I was just waiting for you to look at me Is there a wrong time? Baby, I’m guessing Just let me know He can never get a break, can he? Gokudera sighed, smoke curling past his lips into the chill autumn air. The leaves were just beginning to change color and he cursed how the light cast amber shadows over the smooth plane of your face, cursed how he couldn’t trace the honey light with his fingertips and kiss the darkness away. His tongue clicked against his teeth and he took another drag of his cigarette. Hayato tried to ignore you. He really did. But how can he, when you look as good as you do with a rose-pink blush that covers your cheeks and ears when someone cracks a joke that makes you laugh until you can barely catch your breath? How your jaw drops open in delight before you remember where you are and hide your smile with your hand– something he desperately hoped you would lose the habit of because, god, did you look pretty when you smiled– and blot away the joyful tears in your eyes? How could he not give you his complete, undivided attention when you were as sugar-sweet as you were? His jade eyes flickered back to you again, almost against his will. Your face was bright, eyes glinting in the soft light of the dying afternoon as you teased one of your friends, grinning widely as they swiped playfully at you in return. Gokudera groaned and his head slumped back against the pillar he was leaning against a little too quick, sending an unpleasant shock up his spine. “Shit,” he hissed, stomping out his cigarette on the concrete behind Namimori High and massaging the back of his skull gingerly. What a day. First, Tsuna and Yamamoto had nearly been killed on their way to school again; of course, Gokudera saved both of them, although Yamamoto he saved slightly more reluctantly. Gokudera was strong– of course he was, he wasn’t Tsuna’s right hand for nothing. He just wished he could prove to you that he was strong enough for you, too… Then, that bastard that patrolled the school like some kind of obsessive freak was on his back again. Something about being late for class. Reborn showed up and solved the matter rather quickly, but that didn’t keep Gokudera from steaming out the ears for another hour or so. But the worst part of the day? It was definitely you, without a doubt. You filled his head, turning his thoughts and coherency to cotton in his head and made his mouth as dry as summer. Summer… Gokudera remembered, during lunch period, that you had gone to the beach with him and his friends. You wore a red bathing suit. Red as the fireworks at the summer festival, where he almost told you his feelings but panicked at the last second– but that was a story for another time–and, at one point, clung to his arm to whine about how hot the sun was, and how you were definitely going to get a sunburn. When Gokudera grumbled something back to you about reapplying sunscreen you had winked at him, grinning wide and asking if he wanted to help you with that. By then, there was no doubt in his mind that his milky skin was as red as your bathing suit. From his blushing, dazed haze, you managed to squeeze a frozen lemonade and a plain vanilla ice cream out of him and his wallet. “Share?” you gently cocked your head to one side and held out the icy drink for Gokudera to taste. His mouth was incredibly dry, as it always seemed to be around you– damn you, and damn him for being so weak for you– and he hesitated. You sipped your lemonade languidly and blinked up at him, heavy eyelashes fluttering and all doe-eyed, and his chest clenched in such a way that it brought him agony and ecstasy in equal measure. “Hm?” you hummed, waiting for an answer. He opened his mouth to deny your offer when a heavy stream of melted ice cream rolled down the side of the cone and over your hand. A surprised yelp and a curse left your throat as you hurried to clean the treat off of the cone. When you switched the cone to your other hand to lick the drops of vanilla from your palm, Gokudera’s brain snapped back to being fully functional and he hurriedly agreed to sharing with you. As you complained once again about the heat and the lack of more interesting ice cream flavors at the snack bar, Gokudera thought of how silly he was being for thinking of sharing the ice cream as an indirect kiss– an indirect tongue kiss, more accurately. But more honestly, it was more like the two of you just swapped spit–but that’s not a very pleasant thing to think of, no matter how much he liked you. He wasn’t in middle school anymore; he shouldn’t be so swayed by this! He shouldn’t feel so hot and his heart shouldn’t be beating so fast. A cool ocean breeze swept your hair away from your face as you shook ice chunks in your frozen lemonade, loosening them enough to drink. Gokudera turned his gaze to the clear blue sea, his friends wading in it, and the lazy scrawl of puffy white clouds across the sky and he wondered if he could gather the courage to ask for a sip of the lemonade, too. If he was only going to get an indirect kiss, he wanted a proper one. Slowly coming out of his reverie, Gokudera realized he had been looking at you the whole time. The shade that Namimori cast over him wasn’t enough to cool his embarrassed blush and he hoped you hadn’t noticed. Gokudera nearly jumped out of his skin when something in his pocket buzzed. He fished out his phone– obviously, of course it was his phone. He must be more tired than he thought, to be startled by his own phone. [Baseball Freak] whatcha lookin at? Snapping his head up, Gokudera scanned his surroundings, looking for any sign of Yamamoto. God, how embarrassing to be caught staring at his crush by the person most likely to tease him about it… [Baseball Freak] up here Yamamoto was leaning out of one of the windows of a classroom far above Gokudera’s head, waving at him without a care in the world. It was then that Gokudera remembered why he was waiting outside at all, staring at you so wistfully– Tsuna and Takeshi had to attend an after school remedial session for their poor grades… No matter how many tutoring sessions they both received from Reborn and Hayato and a variety of other eccentric characters that always seemed to appear out of nowhere, they still couldn’t retain anything they learned… especially not math. Shaking his head angrily, the silver haired boy punched out a response to him but his phone buzzed again before he could send it. [Baseball Freak] see something over there u like? I think u do~~~ aren’t they just sooo cute?? >///7///<   Gokudera bit his tongue. How dare Yamamoto say that about you?! It was true, he had to admit, but his pride was hurt from being so easily caught, heart read with such dead-on accuracy that he responded the only way he knew how to. [Me] PISS OFF A rich laugh filled the air above him and only served to spur Gokudera on, cracking his knuckles, clenching his jaw, and wishing he could beat Takeshi into taking what he said back. [Baseball Freak] u know, if u don’t make a move, someone else will………….they’re so pretty and smart and nice!! who wouldn’t want to date them?~ Gokudera’s rage calmed, eerily still. He knew that someone would make a move on you if he didn’t soon. He didn’t miss the way that the boys in the class would offer to carry your bags and would do anything to get just a little closer to you to sling their arms around your shoulders, pretending to show you something in a book, and to breathe in your light perfume. Or the way that girls would bite their lips and giggle when you told a joke and how they would bat their eyelashes and tease you and play with your hair just a little too much for it to be considered strictly friendly. Hayato knew he wasn’t the only person looking to add you to his dating pool and he also knew he wasn’t the best candidate to win your heart. It was a subject that often haunted his brain late at night, a miasma of doubt and self-hatred that cut deep into his heart when no one was there to see him cry. He was too loud, too violent, and too crude for someone like you to fall for. Too dangerous. It didn’t help that Yamamoto was the polar opposite of him– warm, friendly, and kind enough to be anyone’s dream man. And it definitely didn’t help that Yamamoto often wrapped his arm around your shoulders and brought you into his chest when there was nothing else for him to do with his hands. That happened often and made Gokudera more broken hearted than he would ever admit. [Baseball Freak] so? r u gonna say anything to them???? Gokudera had his heart set on you but his brain told him, quite logically, that you would never like someone like him back. Whoever said that it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all was a damn fool. [Me] mind ur business. Up above, there was a sigh loud enough for Gokudera to hear and he knew instantly that he had made the wrong move. He looked up just in time to hear Yamamoto call your name in a sing-songy voice, to see him through weak, orange sun rays, waving cheerfully at you. Gokudera snapped his gaze to you to see your hair bounce with each cute head turn as you looked for the source of the voice. Yamamoto called your name again and Gokudera registered that not only had he used your first name but he added a “-chan” to the end of it– what a double-crossing bastard! You found him and Hayato’s lungs felt tight, but not as a result of his chain-smoking. Your face lit up–your pretty, beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous face– and you yelled back a greeting and swung your arms around wildly back at Takeshi, heels lifting off the ground in delight with your ministrations. Hayato’s gaze flickered back up to Takeshi just in time to see the brunet pointing down at him vigorously. Your sight followed Takeshi’s direction and you locked gazes with Hayato. His breath caught somewhere between his throat and chest and his heart pounded against his ribcage, furiously trying to escape this terribly humiliating situation. Just let me know As soon as you saw him, your eyes widened slightly and you gave him an embarrassed, genuine smile as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. It was strange; he didn’t think that you had anything to be embarrassed about. You were deathly adorable when excited, even if it was because you were excited to see that baseball idiot. He hoped to whatever higher being that was out there– and he knew something was out there: aliens, at least– that he hadn’t imagined that sweet, pink blush that dusted your cheeks and ears and ran down your neck. He was smiling back at you, equally as shyly, before he knew it. Well, it’s been a long time Since you’ve been lonely So what will I do? You are the right one And I’m just a boy who Is looking at you “Hey, Hayato?” you called. His spine straightened, vertebra by vertebra, at the sound of your voice. You had used his first name– sure, you had been doing it for a while, but still every time you called him so endearingly, it sent hot, smoky electricity up his spine. The way the bed sheets creased under your small body and lazy afternoon sunlight dappled your visage had his head reeling. There you were, lounging and at peace with the world, in his apartment, in his bed. “What?” He didn’t mean to sound so brusque– but then again, he doesn’t mean many of the things he says with his angry disposition. Especially to you. “Why do you turn down everyone that confesses to you? Don’t you want to… well… I don’t know, fool around with someone? I mean, we’re in highschool, this is supposed to be the most reckless time of our lives, right? Why not live a little?” Your head tilted to the side, hair falling into your eyes. His fingers itched to brush it out of your face and your own fingers played with something on your phone. Probably texting, some faceless guy or girl, flirting, playing coy and– “Hayato?” He shivered, loving how his name sounded on your soft lips. “I don’t know, idiot. I’m mean, but not mean enough to do something like that to some kid stupid enough to think they like me.” He settles for brushing his own hair out of his face. You turn over on your stomach, “I guess…” Something about your tone when you say that makes Gokudera narrow his eyes in suspicion. Did something happen to you to make you upset? Why were you bringing up this topic now? Why were you bringing it up to him? “I just think it’s a waste, y’know?” you ran a hand through your hair and locked your phone, placing it to the side. Your eyes slid closed and Hayato realized how close your head was to his lap, how easily he could pet your hair and have you doze off in his embrace. You looked sleepy enough anyway– would a little nap hurt the both of you? “Hayato, don’t you know how handsome you are?” you mumbled dreamily. “You could get anyone you want, anyone, and you chose to sit here and do nothing. Why?” Hayato couldn’t think. His head was full of steel wool and his blood thrummed loudly through him. You called him handsome. You called him handsome. When his breath came back to him in a barely noticeable gasp, he couldn’t filter the words that tumbled out of his mouth. “I can’t.” “What?” your eyes slowly opened and you leaned up on an elbow, looking quizzically up at him. “I can’t get anyone I want.” “Why not?” His lungs filled shallowly and he turned his face away from you, focusing on the empty street below, through his room’s window. The sun cast golden light and deep, lavender shadows across the world and Hayato knew that if he looked at you right now, everything would go to shit. He’d see your face; all the perfections and beautiful flaws and you would see through him as if he were glass blown, see how desperate he was for you and how his insides were twisting and trembling in fear and reverence, in equal measure, of your power over him. You would recoil, disgust drawn over your lovely face in terribly sharp lines and you would see how his heart would break over and over again. “Sometimes you just can’t.” Your lips curled into a frown and his brows furrowed; he could tell that much by your silence. Unsatisfied with his answer, you huffed and threw yourself back down on the bed, the crown of your head knocking against his thigh. Your hair splayed out around your face, angelic, and Hayato was lucky that your eyes had once again shut to accept the call of the dream world, because if they hadn’t, you would’ve seen how absolutely helpless he looked, gazing at you. So what will I do? His tongue darted out to smooth over his dry lower lip and he felt the faint sting of the thin skin there– cracked. He tasted iron and swallowed thickly. Gokudera wished he was closer to you, so much closer to you than he was, but he was doubtful his heart would be able to handle that. Your breathing started to slow and Hayato found his hand smoothing over your soft hair and you jolted violently, startling the both of you. You stared up at him, eyes full of stars and planets far away, and he laughed airily. He shook his head, silently telling you, No, don’t wake up just yet, everything’s fine. You accepted this without question and closed your eyes again. This time, Hayato gently slid his hands under your head and guided you towards his lap. He arranged himself comfortably on an array of flattened pillows and stroked your hair as you lay, safe and happy in his lap. A single eye peeked at him– slyly, cat-like– before you hummed and shifted closer to him. A contented sigh slipped through Hayato’s lips and he himself started to feel drowsy. In his dreamy stupor, his hand trailed down your face, down your neck, and down, down your arm until he had your fingers gently entwined with his. Sure, it may have just been an unconscious reaction, but the way your hand squeezed his back made his dreams lovely and surreal and hallucinatory, in all the best ways. I tried the wrong way I was guessing Biding my time You are the only One I can picture By my side “Gokudera, what’s up?” Takeshi nodded at the silver-haired bomber as he approached, strangely insightful today with his clear, milk chocolate eyes. The boy in question merely grumbled vaguely, hands shoved deep in his pockets, as if he was fishing for the answer to Yamamoto’s question down there as well. “That bad, huh?” Gokudera rolled his eyes. It wasn’t rare for him and Yamamoto to arrive at Tsuna’s house before the young mafia boss could flee from it, already anxious and sweaty. Today was no different. “Hey, at least you tried, right?” Yamamoto offered a weak smile, knowing how much you meant to Gokudera. His shoulders were hiked up to his ears and Takeshi didn't miss how the hot, red ring on Gokudera’s cigarette quickly crawled down to the filter before he was tapping out another from his near-empty box and sucking on the new cigarette, lighting it with the dying butt of the used one. He tossed the old one down and ground it into the asphalt. Takeshi frowned. The baseball star shifted the bag on his shoulder uncomfortably, his bats for after school practice clinking metallically. “ … I didn't.” Gokudera kept his gaze locked on a lamp post down the block. Takeshi blinked, not expecting a response from Gokudera’s sunken frame. “What?” “I didn't try.” It took Takeshi a moment to understand what Gokudera meant before grimacing with a little more than a dash of friendly pity in his eyes. He shifted his weight from his hip, seeking to comfort Gokudera, but decided against it at the last moment. “Why?” his voice came out in a gentle rasp. Gokudera still refused to look at him, green eyes clouded and trained on a particularly colorful poster on that singular lamp post. Seconds ticked by before Hayato groaned and dragged a hand down his face, pinching his cigarette in frustration with his other hand. “I can’t! I just can’t. I know they don’t feel the same and I know I’ll break if they have to say it to my face. I can’t handle that. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to handle that. God, Yamamoto, I just can’t take that chance.” Being around them is– it’s just too much and too little for me to take– I’m going crazy here, driving myself in circles and spinning out, spinning my goddamn wheels because of them. It’s fuckin’ sickening but I don’t want a cure. I feel so helpless and I hate it, I never want to feel this way again. What the hell did I do to deserve this?” Gokudera’s eyes snapped shut, face contorted in agony. “I can’t tell them. I can’t. I want them to be happy. It’s better this way anyway. I’m not good enough.” Gokudera’s voice cracked on his last word before his declaration faded into the morning’s stillness. Yamamoto was insulted– his best friend talking about himself this way? Not in a million years, if he had any say in it– but Gokudera snapped at him before he could get a word in. “And don’t say shit about me being good enough, because we both know I’m not good enough for them. I’ll never be good enough, Yamamoto, that’s not me. I wouldn’t be able to hold them as much as I should, to kiss their gorgeous fucking face– I wouldn’t be able to be fucking honest, Takeshi. They deserve more than the bullshit excuses I’d spew to cover our fucking asses when we get the crap kicked out of us on a bi-weekly basis. They don’t deserve that.” Silence weighed like velvet over the two of them and the sun was now calling out songbirds, sleepy murmurs from the neighborhood beginning to wake from the heavy slumber of the night. Yamamoto didn’t know what to say anymore and Gokudera put the cigarette back where it belonged: between his lips, funneling poison straight to his lungs. “ … I don’t think it’s like that, Hayato. You’re being too harsh on yourself. I really don’t think they feel that way about you.” Hayato said nothing and kept his eyes glued to that single poster again. Yamamoto reached out and awkwardly patted his shoulder, mustering as much comfort as he could before he knew he would overstay his welcome. Hayato needed time to clear his head. “ … I’ll go inside to check up on Tsuna. Come inside soon, alright?” The response that didn’t meet him was enough to know Gokudera wouldn’t get better as quick as that. Takeshi sighed in sorrowful compassion before slowly making his way to Tsuna’s front door, carefully piecing together his cheerful mask yet again. The door shut quietly, and voices and vague, worrisome sounds came from within. Gokudera raised his hand to scrub furiously at his misty eyes, his bracelets clinking together and rings scraping his face and leaving thin, red lines around his eyes. He leaned back against the wall around his best friend’s house and his head banged against the concrete, painful and painfully familiar to something that had happened recently, involving you. “Fuck,” he hissed into the empty street. Class was boring, as it always was. There was nothing that could entertain him that was in Namimori’s curriculum. Tsuna managed to convince Gokudera to take college classes too, so that his development wouldn’t stall (and also because Gokudera being bored meant a bit more trouble for Tsuna, but he was genuinely concerned about Gokudera’s personal growth). But even those classes were much too easy for him. Something that wasn’t easy? Seeing you every damn day and not being able to do a thing about it. Getting closer, getting further, cutting you off completely– he couldn’t bring himself to do any of those. Gokudera tapped the eraser end of his pencil against his desk and sighed, staring out the classroom window into the clear blue sky. He couldn’t wait for summer again but, boy, did he like seeing you all bundled up in wool and cashmere and simply drowning in soft fabrics and cozy patterns. You were so cute with your nose red from the cold, lips burning pink from being bitten so much– he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, no, he would take this to his grave– but what he wouldn’t give to be the one to bite your lips instead, to hear you whimper and moan, just for him, and– A small collision with the side of his head brought him out of his daydreams. Curious and annoyed, Hayato brought a hand up to his hair and picked out a crumpled wad of paper. Who the hell had the balls to throw shit at him? He was still the scariest guy in Namimori (and no, Hibari doesn’t count, either). If anything, he should be terrorizing the rest of the class. Taking a less than subtle glance around the room, he caught your eyes staring at him eagerly. Taking a moment to compose himself, he averted his gaze to your note instead. Of course it was you that threw it at him. Who else? Wanna go to a bakery after school? Kyoko-chan was talking about it earlier and I can’t get it out of my head… I’ll pay if u want!! I want cake~~~ Hayato didn’t hold back the happy grin that spread over his face, sparing a glance at you, impatiently waiting for his reply, before scribbling something in his mostly neat penmanship under your barely legible chicken scratch. No need to pay. But yeah, that sounds p cool. Meet me right after school at the front gates? The teacher still had his back turned to the class, writing something that Gokudera already knew on the blackboard, droning on and on about logs and bases and inverses and irrational numbers or something equally useless. He knocked his hand back and threw from the shoulder, the small, now neatly folded note landing in the middle of your desk. You snatched it up quickly, hiding it just in time for the teacher to turn around and call on one of your classmates to answer a question. Gokudera couldn’t see you unfold the note but your arms were moving under the desk and you grabbed a pencil off the desk too. Gokudera remembered that pencil; it was thin, cute, and pink– with a brown bear on top. The bear held a red heart and its nose was in the same cute shape. There were patterns of hearts and stars in red and yellow and white, and Gokudera knew all of this because Kyoko had helped him pick it out to give it to you for your birthday. He thought giving you a gift with so many hearts was a bit forward– tactless, even– but Kyoko gave him a stern look and told him that nothing he could do would be forward enough when it came to you and, spluttering and flushed, he tried to deny his affections for you but only ended up confessing how he felt about you to Kyoko. Smiling gently like the angel she is, Kyoko let him talk her ear off about you for nearly an hour and a half. She earned a milkshake and a slice of strawberry cake for her bravery. You spun in your chair, clutching the edge of it in your small hand, and flicked the paper back to him. The message was a little more timid, he noticed. actually, can we meet on the roof after school?.. I have something I want to talk to u about, but it shouldn’t take long… We can go straight to the bakery if u don’t want to, tho!!!!! ^v^;; Gokudera recognized how you were trying to hide something from him with your overwhelming facade of consideration. Whenever you felt insecure about something, you always spent time making sure other people felt more comfortable and happy than you were, as if that would make you feel better yourself. A frown carried over his pale face and when he looked up, you were staring at him again. This time, you seemed to have carefully examined his face and your brows were furrowed. As soon as you met his eyes, you jumped, shaking your head and waving your hands to tell him, Don’t mind me, it’s nothing. Gokudera was just about to pen down a reply when the teacher turned around again and began talking to the class, not looking like he was going to turn his back on Gokudera any time soon. Hayato caught your eyes with his green ones and nodded quickly, mouthing ‘I’ll be there.’ Lunch was as it normally was. That is, filled with shouts and explosions and general chaos. However, this lunch period was noisier than it previously had been; a fact that only would have been noticed by the people present if they paid very careful attention to their volume. Gokudera noticed. Damn right, he noticed. Sure, you usually sat next to Takeshi. Sure, you had a habit of clinging to him as you laughed and whispering in his ear. And sure, sometimes you would call him Take-chan as you fed him bits of your own bentou– a fact that pissed Gokudera off endlessly. But what was different? Today you were nestled in Yamamoto’s side, tucked neatly away under his arm which alternated from wrapping around your shoulders to hold you to him and pulling you in by your waist to bring you nearly onto his lap. It stung Gokudera something awful. Watching the two of you laugh and whisper to each other felt like you had run Hayato’s heart over shrapnel and soothed his wounds with lemon and salt. He averted his jealous, but startlingly gentle gaze from you to the sky above you, willing tears not to come and cursing himself for feeling this way about you. “Hey, Take-chan!” You tugged on his shirt, the fabric over his chest, to bring his attention back to you. “Hmm?” You stole a glance at Gokudera and whispered giddily into Yamamoto’s ear. When you’re finished, Yamamoto made a sound that can only be described as pure elation, and he tugged you in even closer, tickling you in the process. You laughed and shrieked at him to stop and he only did so when you’re nearly in tears. Tsuna is having a muted conversation with Gokudera and he is trying to pay attention– honest– Gokudera is trying so goddamn hard, but it’s next to impossible when a grass-green snake hisses low in his belly over you writhing and laughing so happily in Takeshi’s lap. Yamamoto whispered hotly back into your ear and Gokudera sees something he wished he would never see from the two of you: you, with a hot blush crawling up your neck and Takeshi with his face practically in the crook of it, grinning all pearly white and eyes staring at you with such fucking dedicated tunnel vision. Gokudera wasn’t hungry anymore. Lunch ended and you gave Yamamoto one last quick hug before cleaning up your trash and putting everything away that you wanted to keep. Gokudera was slower than normal, taking all the time in the world and then some to get ready for class again. The door to the roof clanged shut and Gokudera let out a heavy sigh, eyes closed and trying to feel everything that he could– everything except his feelings, that is. He relished the cool breath of wind that blew against his face, tossing his hair around and whistling softly to him. He took account of the ground beneath him, hard and sturdy, and the sounds of teenagers filtering back into the school, complaining about their classes and each other. The one thing he didn’t hear–not until it was too late– was you. “Hayato?” you tugged on the back of his shirt, scaring him witless. He yelped like a kicked puppy and spun around to face you, composure long lost. He tried to say something but nothing left his lips; nothing coherent, at least. The hand that grasped his shirt didn’t cease touching him. It got even closer than before as you took a step, and then another, into his personal space. The height difference between you was just too much for him to handle and Gokudera felt himself simultaneously trying to pale and flush, unsure which won over in the end. Your hand slid along his waist, his side, and up his chest lightly. The smile that took root on your face was weak and bashful, even– and you bumped your forehead on his chest before you looked back up at him, an emotion he didn’t recognize dancing in your eyes. “Don’t forget, we’re meeting here after school, Hayato. You wouldn’t want to keep me waiting, would you?” Your finger tapped his chest teasingly, adding another beat to his pulse and he felt fire crawl up the base of spine at your nail scraping through his shirt. You blinked curiously up at him and his voice whispered to you, hoarse and against his will, “No, I wouldn’t.” Satisfied with that, you made sure that he had everything he had brought up to the roof with him, promptly forced him to offer his elbow to you, and curled yourself happily over his arm before leading the both of you down the stairs to finish the rest of the day’s lessons. The roof was empty except for Gokudera. As soon as school was over, he bid Tsuna and Yamamoto goodbye, telling them not to wait up for him. Yamamoto had a big, stupid grin on his face– But when does he not? Gokudera rationalized. There was something about that smile that showed that he knew more than he let on but Gokudera was much too preoccupied with thoughts of you to care. He leaned against the rails, not trusting it to hold him, careful not to put too much weight on it. He took a steadying breath. Breathe. It’s fine. Nothing’s wrong. But no matter what he told himself to stop the rapid, staccato drumming in his chest, his anxieties were not relieved in the slightest. He was afraid– god, how he was afraid. What did you want to talk to him about? Did you not want to be friends anymore? Did you grow tired of him? Did… Did you want to tell him you were dating Takeshi? “Hayato?” oh fuck Gokudera jumped. The amount of times you scared him witless was embarrassingly high. “Hey.” You smiled slightly. “Hey.” Something about you was different. Something was… off. The way your eyes drifted from him every other second before coming back to his concerned gaze was unusual, but even more unusual was the way your hands fidgeted behind your back. “So,” Hayato tried to get the words to come out. The light breeze that tossed your hair around your face in a halo didn’t help much, but he appreciated it anyway. “What’d you wanna talk about? I’m hungry as fuck.” It slipped out– Hayato’s cursing habit hijacked his mouth, nerves making him go on autopilot. At least you took it well; your eyes glinted in amusement and some of the tension between the two of you dissipated. A pink tongue darted out to soothe your dry lips and Hayato was a little too aware of it. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while, but I just didn’t know how to tell you– it’s a bit… embarrassing, so don’t make fun of me, okay?” Your mouth was set in a firm line, eyes pleading and vulnerable. “Sure.” That wasn’t the reply you wanted but it was what it was. By my side “I…” you began, then lost the words you had planned. “You?..” Gokudera offered. He wasn’t sure he was ready for what you wanted to tell him or what it entailed, but he was sure that if it meant your happiness, he would do anything at all to keep you smiling. “It’s just that… You know, I–” you fumble over your words, frustration visible on your face. Gokudera scolded himself for thinking of you in this way when you so clearly don’t want him but he can’t help it. He’s worried over your affect on him before, but he never considered how weak he is to you or how strong your natural beauty is under the glow of a late afternoon and the crinkle of your brow with your courageous efforts… courageous efforts that you try to spell out but they fail, perched above your tongue. Your soft hands come down in frustration upon the hem of your shirt and you try again, slip again, and Gokudera is privy to the realization that this isn’t something he should take lightly any longer, no matter how much it calms his nerves or keeps him from facing the possible reality of him losing you. He leans forward to grasp your hands from distressing your shirt, to keep you from distressing yourself, with full knowledge that this moment could be the end of you allowing him to be graced with your presence. Hayato decided that your momentary comfort before unleashing hell on him was worth more than a thousand lifetimes of you by his side in the masquerade mask of lukewarm passion if you backed down from rejecting him now. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” And he touched you and nearly recoiled when your face whipped up to meet his, nearly let go of you because your skin was hot as forged iron and nearly as red. He tried to let go but you wouldn’t stand for it, as you used his hands over your shoulders as leverage to place your palms, clammy and shaking, over his smooth cheekbones and bring his face down to yours. Hayato’s eyes were wide as he met your lips, glossed and smooth and clearly prepped for this specific moment, specific kiss, specifically with him and he could have withered away in embarrassment of his rough mouth and nicotine lungs if it weren’t for how warm you were against him and how securely you held him, despite how insecure you had been seconds prior. Gokudera barely has the brains left to close his eyes on the skyline of Namimori but when he does he sees stars and he kisses you back and there’s a scrape of his teeth against your bottom lip and you shiver and he groans into you and now he’s just as red, if not redder, than you are. A slick noise of separation, then the both of you don’t know how to deal with the awkward intimacy of it, or what to do with your hands, but Hayato managed to gather enough sense– or maybe he’s running on what he’s fantasized on doing after your first kiss together and is on a daydream-guided autopilot– and he brings you into a tight hug and buried his head into your wild hair. You laugh into his chest and when he tried to bring you out to ask you why, you clung to his wrinkled white shirt even more and blindly found his hands, tangled with his bracelets and rings, then laced your fingers soundly with his. Gokudera can hardly believe the kiss happened, can believe he’s still alive even less, but he’s sure you can hear the quickened palpitations of his heart and that notion does no good for his health either. You’re an absolute dream and Gokudera is ready and happy to die right there, but you pull away from him, hands still interwoven, and smile so beautifully that he is sure that angels exist and you’re the vision of seraphim, disguised as human so barely that if you were anymore angelic he would surely fall dead where he stood, kiss-dizzy and sweetly dazed. From his dazed mouth, stupidity falls out. “So what was it that you had to tell me?” You laugh and press a kiss– more confidently this time– to his collarbone. At his affirmative, stuttered, elated hum, you press another and another, up his neck and jawline and chin until you reach his lips again and he kisses you back with adoration and love and his still evolving understanding of your feelings for him. “I’m not sure how to say it any clearer,” you said with a laugh that rang like the church bells that sounded in Gokudera’s head as clearly as he imaged they would on your wedding day, as he pressed his own kisses all over your face and held you close with the intention of treasuring you as long as he had a pulse and then some. “Hayato, I really, really like you.” And that was the day that Gokudera Hayato had come to face the reality, one that he had long accepted, that he loved you more than anything and you felt the same, but most importantly, that you were the right one for him. And that he was the right one for you.