#put us in a room together and you’ll have new colored walls by the end

[wherenymphsroam]

i need to be spayed.

[onceinawhilemoon]

The Tale of The Empty House Quest and The Power of Imagination

There's something that I haven't noticed before in the ending credits of SHCO.

The credits show Stonewood Manor in a “past vs. present” sequence. We see the rooms as they were in the past: vibrant, warm, and beautiful, before they transform into the present: dark, cold, and ramshackled.

But the present here isn't just the present; it's Sherlock’s present while he was staying in the manor, and we can see ALL THE AUCTIONED PIECES THAT WE'VE BEEN BUYING THROUGHOUT THE GAME and even that sketch of Ms. Nini's fugly thief in Sherlock's room.

Like, I did wonder how Sherlock managed to refurbish and repaint every room and make them look as good as new all by himself with just a scant few items of furniture, but I never really gave it much thought, simply attributed it to game logic and rolled with it.

BUT THAT'S THE THING. He never really did.

I did wonder how Sherlock put his hand through the lit fireplace to retrieve Mycroft's key, and didn't give it much thought either because again, game logic, but that fireplace was never lit to begin with.

To Sherlock, when he set to “refurbish” the manor–which entailed him buying whatever auctioned items he could find still being sold around Cordona because like a decade had passed–and to us playing as him as we progressed in the Tale of the Empty House quest, the house started to look warm and colorful and beautiful:

In reality, though, they were just those items that he restored here and there and everything else HE WAS SEEING IN HIS OWN MIND and the ending credits show us what the manor actually looked like while we were in it:

Which means that the entire time that we were running around the house with Jon and that beautiful soundtrack as we reminisced and lovingly renovated and decorated it with trophies and case memorabilia, we were running around that same dark, cold, decaying building from the start of the game, except for those little additions here and there...

And if you look at the restored items, you’ll notice how the family portrait is still unveiled, the carpet isn't fully rolled out, Jon’s bed isn't positioned against the wall like it should have been, and there's a covered painting atop the closet in Sherlock's room that didn't originally belong there.

Everything that we reclaimed from the shops looks messily and hurriedly put together–Sherlock is a one man after all and a very busy one–and yet, his creativity and imagination were powerful enough to fill in the rest.

All this time we spent in the “refurbished” Stonewood Manor, we were simply living inside a memory. We were in Sherlock's mind seeing a product of his imagination so vivid that it created a real sense of presence in the revived manor–as real as Jon was to him–despite the actual state of disrepair.

I don't know why it never occurred to me before. It's pretty obvious now, and it makes so much sense; there was no way Sherlock was going to find everything that was auctioned still being sold and intact (and he didn't, the items he found were like 10 or 13 tops) and make the house look like that all by himself. He could have hired people to repaint and clean and bought similar furniture, I guess, but that's just far-fetched to me. He barely even spent time in the manor to put all of this extra effort on renovations.

I sobbed uncontrollably when I realized this sgsjiwise (the ending credits already make me so weak, especially with that damned music UGH).

I don't know. There's something so bittersweetly pure about him trying to reclaim the space that was once his own with whatever minimal resources he had available. Whatever he couldn't find, he simply substituted with creativity and imagination, and that was enough to imbue the space with warmth and a real sense of home sweet home. It's almost reminiscent of the way a child plays make-belief. I think it's a beautiful testament to the power of imagination, how it has the ability to transform environments and create a sense of belonging.

And then, just like 10 years ago as if he still lived there, he went around and put up posters and trophies and memorabilia, despite knowing that he wasn't staying there for long, and that once he left, it was forever. It's like he wanted to experience what it was like living in the manor one last time, leaving one last imprint saying, “I was here.”

I wonder what Mycroft thought of it all when he came back later to check on Sherlock. He must have at least gone through the entire ground floor in order to get to the back garden, so he must have seen all the restored items and the very personal traces of his brother's short-lived presence scattered among the junk and clutter of their dilapidated old home. I imagine they starkly stood out not just because they were not supposed to be there, but because of how they were like little touches of life in an otherwise dead and quiet space that'd been dead and quiet for a long time..

I really admire how FW managed to set up the sense of nostalgia in this game. Not just nostalgia, but “vicarious nostalgia”. I kept having that wistful longing for places I haven't personally been and experiences I haven't personally lived but felt very connected to through Sherry's (and Jon's) memories and stories (there's like a German word for this phenomenon I'm pretty sure but I forgor) but I guess SHCO does tab into something for all of us, right? Childhood innocence and memories, imaginary friends, leaving your childhood home and coming back years later... There's a little something there for everyone to relate to, I think.

[triforce-of-mischief]

@ailesswhumptober day 20: (accidental) de-aging

Summary: Red is feeling little today, and Time is his appointed guardian as they explore a dungeon. Neither of them expect danger to happen so quickly.

Contents: age regressor whumpee, graphic depictions of violence, blood, near limb loss, near death experience

Words: 830

AO3

Please reblog to show your support! Likes do nothing.

Exploring this unknown temple put Time’s nerves on edge. Before the Chain had split up, they had agreed that it was new to them all. As Time walked deeper into the dungeon, he found the unmistakable mark of the Gerudo etched into the sandstone walls. Knowing that few of the others knew what the tribe were capable of, Time was terrified for them- but he couldn’t show it, not while his companion could see.

Red ran up and down the hall, repeatedly passing by Time as the older man kept his steady pace. The little smith was noticeably more energetic today, his manner endearing him to Twilight and Wind but eliciting eye rolls from his colorful siblings. Time had agreed to look after Red as he spent his energy, as he was one of the most capable to protect a boy who nobody trusted to use the sword on his back.

Time had seen Red in battle before, and the smith was a capable warrior just like the rest. The difference between him and his brothers was that, as Vio had tried to explain, Red’s brain processed their adventures differently. To cope with the trauma, Red spent much of his time in a regressed state, for all appearances a teen with the mind of a toddler. Time, himself, had never experienced the same but he could understand the appeal.

They entered a corridor lined with statues as tall as Time, and he narrowed his eye at them warily. Armos and darknuts could never be trusted to remain inert.

“Woah! These are huge!” Red exclaimed, and leapt to hang from the arm of a statue.

Time shuddered, but the statue didn’t react to the tiny trespasser. He turned to investigate the locked door at the end of the hallway, leaving Red giggling in delight behind him.

Nothing seemed out of place near the door. The bricks were even and every torch was lit. Time traced the sturdy chains suspended from the doorframe and sighed, reaching in his bag for the lens of truth.

“Hey, Time?”

“Just a minute, Red,” he called.

“Time- AAAAAH!”

Red screamed, and in the same moment Time heard a horrible sound.

Clank.

Time whirled around, the looking glass exchanged for his biggoron sword.

Clank.

An iron knuckle towered over Red. The boy stared up at it, paralyzed with fear.

“Red, MOVE!”

His arms went up to block his face, but it wasn’t enough, too late. The massive axe swung and caught Red across the side, slicing and throwing him into the wall.

Red screamed. Time roared.

He was across the room in an instant, and he buried his blade in the weak spot between plates of armor. The knuckle grunted and collapsed, and Time didn’t linger to see just what- or who- he had killed.

Red was silent. He wasn’t moving. Time knelt by his side and swallowed bile, there was so much blood. The boy had saved his vital organs, at the cost of his arm. Time didn’t dare touch it, he didn’t want to know how precariously it was still attached. Red gasped, sounding like he wasn’t quite breathing; broken ribs, at best.

“It’s okay,” Time whispered, frantically digging in his bag for a fairy, he knew he had a fairy. “You’ll be okay, Red, just hang on.”

Red’s eyes glazed over, and he struggled to keep them open.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Time pleaded, his voice breaking as his fingers closed around a bottle. “Stay with me, Red, please.”

He released the fairy, barely able to watch as his eyes filled with desperate tears. He blinked them away, only for more to fall as he watched Red’s body knit itself back together. The boy’s fingers, miraculously, twitched and his first real breath left as a terrified wail. He didn’t have the strength to move himself, and as soon as the fairy left Time lifted Red into his lap. He collapsed around him, sobbing, and he felt Red do the same.

Time wanted to do better. He wanted to reassure the boy, give him proper comfort, move him somewhere safer, anywhere that didn’t have the corpse of an iron knuckle mere feet away. He couldn’t do any of that, so he prayed that what he could provide was enough. Red’s little hands were grasping at his chest, finding only cold armor, and Time gently folded his own hands over them. Time’s words were failing him, so he sent his promise of apology and protection in the form of lips pressed firmly to the top of Red’s head, hiding his tears in his hair. He pulled the boy close, ignoring how his hands were wet and sticky from a tunic that was a few shades too dark.

Red was gasping, trying to say things that sounded like “Scared” and “Dada”.

Time didn’t know what he would say, even if he could speak. He was responsible for this boy, this child, and that was the most horrifying thing of all.

[poraphia]

"A High School Reunion."

Chapter 02 of "If You Look At Me, I'll Listen To You."

➵ PAIRING! clinic!civillian!wilbur x hero!reader

➵ CREATING! 10.1.23 | 3191 words

➵ CONTAINING! lovers to strangers, hero society (dream team + karl), tommy being a teasing prick

➵ SAYING! thank you for the support on the first chapter! i loved everyone's responses and input and seriously i would love to see more! if youd like to be a part of a taglist message my inbox! :DD

my masterlist and chapter 01

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey, Quacks, how’s the work been treating you?”

I spun around my office chair before kicking up my boots on my desk. It was another slow day the Hero’s Tower. Well, at least for me.

“It’s been going fine. It gets a little hard running a whole casino though, I’ll tell you that much.” He lightly chuckled through the phone.

I’ve known Quackity for a few years now. We attended university together after I moved out of my old neighborhood and into a small town just South of L’manburg city. Quackity was my dorm neighbor. We started talking to each other after I was fed up with all the ruckus I heard through the wall. When I learned that him and some strangers were doing a bit of Poker, I figured why not join. I didn’t stay in contact with those other people, but Quackity, we clicked too easily to let each other go.

“Sounds fun. Hope you’re not stressing too much. Maybe the next time I see you, you’ll be all wrinkly and tired all the time.” I joked, a sly smile on my face.

“Oh, that won’t be happening anytime soon!” He laughed. “Seriously, I got this.”

“—Hey, (y/n).” I looked up from my desk only to be met by Sapnap’s firey gaze. “You got a moment?” He quickly glanced at my phone before returning his eye on me. “We’re having a mini meeting, and we need you in on this one.”

That’s… Strange. I’m usually not called to Hero meetings.

“Oh, uh—” I sat up properly. “—Sure. Just let me wrap up this call.” I said. Sapnap nodded before walking out of my office.

“Need to go?” Quackity asked through the phone.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” I said reluctantly. My mind raced with a thousand thoughts. Was I in trouble? Did I do something wrong with the last interrogation? “I’ll talk to you, alright, Q?”

“Of course, just let me know whenever you’re free. I’ll catch you later, (y/n).”

“Yeah, see ya!”

I clicked off my phone, sliding it down my pocket.

Oh God.

What’s going on?

I was able to locate the meeting room pretty swiftly. Through the window I saw George, Karl, Sapnap, and Clay. Karl, with his usual bubbly energy, waved at me through the glass. I smiled in return before hiding myself behind the wood door. Through my nostrils I took one deep and steady inhale before slowly letting it go through my nose. Once I felt ready enough, I placed my hand on the cold silver handle, twisting it open to be greeted by the chilly room.

The room wasn’t too extravagent. The walls were painted a navy blue with a long wood table. The ends of the table had one chair while the side parts had two on each side. I decided to take my seat next to Karl with George in front of me and Clay at the end.

“So, you’re probably wondering why you’re here.” Clay started.

“Yeah,” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “This isn’t my usual setting, y’know.” Since my power is feared to be too dangerous, I’m usually working in the interrogation and detainment center. It was kind of pitiful thinking about how I’m more used to isolated rooms and gray colors with a criminal in front of me, rather than a nice cozy meeting room with my friends.

“Well… George, Clay, and I came up with a new fighting strat, and I think with your powers, we may finally put the supervillains out of business.” Sapnap grinned. I tilted my head a little.

“What do you mean?” I asked. Clay then stood up and walked behind George and Sapnap where a dry-erase board was located. The two of them turned around, attentive to what Clay had to say.

“Alright look, we already know the Syndicate is our supervillains.” Clay explained, drawing on the board. “Siren, Blade, and Zephyrus being the most threatening of them all. Especially when the three of them are together.” He wrote down their names before circling them all into one group. “I believe with our data now and enough studying, we can analyze their behavioral patterns, what their priorities are, etc.”

I nodded my head, a bit confused on where this was going. I looked over to Karl, who seemed just as confused as I was.

“So, what does this have to do with me?” I asked. Clay smiled, pointing at me with his marker.

“I was just getting to that.” He wrote my name on the board before turning back to face us. “If you could watch these main three—” he pointed at the board. “then you'll have enough information to make convincing enough hallucinations. Enough hallucinations, means more distraction as they fight, which means more wins for us!” he cheered.

I sat there, hands folded in my lap. All four of them had their eyes on me, expecting some sort of comment or response. “…So,” I broke the silence. “I'm basically like.. The secret weapon?”

Karl eagerly nodded as he pulled me closer with an arm. “Yeah! We're finally going to have you fighting with the big guys! Isn't that super cool?”

“Mhm,” George hummed. “You won't be stuck doing interrogations at the detainment center anymore. You’ll be on the battlefield!” He exlcaimed, a small smile on his lips.

This was a lot to take in at once. Frist, I had to stalk the three most dangerous members of The Syndicate for some time, then with enough information, I’ll finally be on the field going on missions?

“So, what do you think, (y/n)?” Sapnap asked, his hands folded on the table.

I looked at all the faces around me. It was barely clicking to me that I finally have the chance to be out there, with my friends, fighting against the villains. It was something I dreamed of doing ever since I moved back to L’Manburg.

“I’m in.” I said proudly.

What could go wrong?

After laying out some planning, I left the HQ and decided to take a bus to Eastside. Besides the Hero District and South Bay, I haven’t been around the other parts of the city, as least in civillian form. Mainly because I was looking to avoid a certain… Family. I haven’t seen the Soot family since I broke up with Wilbur that night. I felt too guilty of our actions, and frankly I swore I would never see Wilbur again after I moved away. Avoiding him in the neighborhood and in school was a hassle by itself.

Once I made it to Eastside, I hopped out of the bus and began walking to a familiar cafe. I figured if I was going to go out exploring, I should go to an area where it was least likely running into the Soots. I turned on my headphones, and began my walk. In my backpack I had my laptop and sketchbook where I was going to plan out my missions.

Once I looked up, realizing I was greeted by the huge sign that read “Puffy’s Cloudy Cafe.”

Alright, here we go.

I pushed open the door and immediately I was hit with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked pasteries. I heard a loud gasp in front of me, and I was met by the familiar face of Foolish.

“(Y/N)!” He exclaimed, as he nearly hopping over the counter, I ran up to him and we engulfed in each other in a warm hug.

“Hey, Foolish! How have you been?” I smiled, pulling away.

“I’ve been doing okay! Still working at the cafe, as you can see!” He chuckled. “Where have you been all these years?! I haven’t seen you since graduation!” He asked, placing his hands on his shoulders.

“I left the city to go to University. I only moved back a few months ago but now I live in South Bay!” I smiled. He nodded, taking in my words before pulling away.

“Have you talked to…?” He trailed off, but I knew what he was talking about.

“I haven’t.” I lightly chuckled. “Not since he walked across that stage, but even then, I wasn’t even talking to him like that.”

Foolish tilted his head, a curious smile on his face. “Y’know, I still remember during graduation, you were literally screaming and cheering him on so loudly! But then you tried to shape up as if no one heard you!”

I laughed, punching him the shoulder. “Hey, shut up! Maybe I just got a bit carried away…”

“Mhmm,” He hummed. “Well, I’m about to clock out now and head to Eret’s place—”

As if on cue, two figures walked through the cafe doors.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

You’ve genuinely got to be fucking with me.

Two guys stood in front of us, but I only paid attention to one of their faces.

Those chocolate brown eyes stared back at me. Those eyes I fell in love with the moment I saw them for the first time. They were wide, and they didn’t stray away from mine. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but he stopped himself.

“Hey Toms, hey Wil!” Foolish excitedly introduced. “Wilbur, you remember (y/n), right? She’s finally back in town—!” Before he continued, I kicked him in the foot, earning a loud yelp. He got the hint and backed away from the conversation.

“I— I got work to do.” I quickly mumbled. From the corner of my eye I saw Wil raise his hand out of protest, but I ignored it to hastily find a seat.

I found a duo seat next to the window. I placed my bag in one of the seats to take out my laptop and then sat in the other seat. I jolted my laptop open, somewhat smacking the keyboard impatiently to wake it up.

Ugh, stupid, stupid!

I put my head down, covering face with my arms. My leg shook rapidly from under the table. I shouldn’t have came here. I shouldn’t have came here at all. Who was I to think it would be safe to travel in this area anyway?! This was a stupid idea!

“You must’ve gotten ugly if she was going to run away that fast, man.” I heard a gruff voice snort followed by a sound of someone being shoved.

“T-That’s not true! I… Ugh… Just get to work, asshole.”

That familiar voice.

My heart fluttered at the sound of his deep voice. That deep voice that used to tell me how pretty I looked everyday and asked if I needed help with homework.

But it was the same voice that killed all those men, and maybe even more after that night.

I shook my head. Maybe a coffee would fix my racing thoughts.

I got up from my table and went up to the counter. There I met that boy that was standing next to Wil earlier. He had a red and white shirt under his barista apron. He and blue eyes and a mess of blonde flopped on the top of his head, but what was most distinguishing about his hair was that streak of white.

His eyes widened briefly before a sly grin formed on his face. “Welcome to Puffy’s Cloudy Cafe, what can I get you?” He asked.

“I’ll just have an iced caramel coffee.” I forced a smile on my face. He clicked on some things on the cash register before looking at me again.

“And what’s the name?” He asked.

“(y/n).” I said plainly.

“Alright, I’ll have your order done in a minute.” He said. I nodded, handing him my card. As he swiped in my order, I placed a decent amount of cash in his tip jar. He looked up a bit, a smile quirking up when he realized how much money I put in. “Jeez, dude, what job are you working?” He asked rather jokingly.

“Uhh,” I bit my tongue a bit to hold back my actual answer. “—criminal justice.” I exclaimed, which wasn’t technically a lie. The barista handed me back my card. “Thanks,” I glanced down to look at his nametag. “Tommy.” He nodded, and I headed back to my seat to begin my work.

My laptop had started up, welcoming me with my sunset background. I opened up my web browser and created a word document to jot down all my notes and plans on how I could start stalking the Syndicate. Should I be saying “stalking?” It sounds pretty vulgar. My main focuses had to be Siren, Blade, and Zephyrus. So I figured that maybe I should start with Siren, though that was sort of risky to get into. What was his superpower again..?

“Order for Wilbur and (y/n)!”

Oh, wow.

This kid had to be some kind of fucking troll.

I sighed, reluctantly standing up from my seat. I noticed that Wil was approaching as well, slow with his footsteps. I looked over to Tommy who had this devious grin on his face. Once I walked up to the counter, I noticed that only Wil’s order was on the counter. It had to be either a flat white or a hot coffee with four shots of espresso.

“Here you go, (y/n). Iced caramel coffee.” Tom said, personally handing the beverage to me.

“Knew it…” I heard a soft voice whisper to himself.

He… Remembered my order?

“Thank you, Tom,” I smiled. He nodded, and I headed back to my seat. I took a sip of my coffee to cool down the heat that was rising to my cheeks before continuing my work. With careful listening, I could hear a bit of Tom and Wil’s bickering from the counter.

“Why the fuck would you do that?!” Wil whisper shouted.

“Look, man, they seemed interested! They were staring at your coffee order and mumbling something. Probably knows your order too.” Tom chuckled.

“Shut the fuck up! Don’t do that again, I’m serious!” Wil was practically begging at this point. I resisted the urge to turn around to look at the two. Instead kept my eyes on my screen.

“Okay, okay,” Tom reassured. “I’ll stop. But seriously man, you need to tell me about this when we get home.”

The argument ended there, and though I continued on with my work, the conversation sat in my mind like a brick. My fingers tapped against my laptop, creating rows of writing then sectioning them off into tables. I even enforced this new routine into my daily planner, blocking specifically when I would be working at the station to when I would be learning information about the Syndicate. I stayed in the cafe for another hour until I was finally content with my planning for the next couple of weeks.

With a content sigh, I finally closed my laptop. I looked around, realizing that the cafe was barely occupied. Wil was in another corner with a book whereas Tom was cleaning the espresso machine. I got up, stretching my legs and arms before taking my laptop and sliding it into my backpack. As I was zipping up my backpack, I felt a pair of eyes behind me, but I chose to ignore them. I slid my arms into the straps and fixed my hair behind me. When I turned around, I realized that it was Wilbur who was staring at me. His nose immediately buried into his book once we made eye contact. A small scoff escaped my lips, and I approached Tom at the counter for the final time.

“Hey, Tommy. Just a strawberry cheesecake to go please.” I said, sliding over a $10 bill. “Keep the change as a tip.”

“Coming right up, (y/n).” He placed the bill inside then counted the money before placing it into his tip jar. He then went to the back to grab a plastic container that had a piece of cheesecake drizzled in strawberry syrup with slices of strawberry on the side. “Here you are. You leaving for the day?” He asked, quickly glancing away before returning his eyes on me. I took the container of dessert before smiling.

“Yeah, it’s getting late. Don’t want to be out especially during criminal hour.” I lightly chuckled. Tom nodded, as if understanding.

“Alright, stay safe out there.” He waved. I said my goodbyes before heading toward the door. As I took another step, I heard footsteps approaching me.

“W-Wait.” I turned around, only to be met with a white button up shirt with light blue-gray stripes.

I looked up, and there he was.

His jaw was more defined than it was when we were kids. His hair was more poofy and grew curlier over the years. It was obvious he had grown out of his rounded features. Even his eyes were more narrow. But I knew those freckles scattered all over his face and how his pink lips formed a symmetrical cupid’s bow.

We both stared at each other in silence. One hand gripped at my backpack strap tight while the other clutched at my plastic container.

“Yes?” I asked. It was blank and straight forward, not letting any form of emotion seep through my words.

“I-I just… Well, it’s good to see you in town again.” He said, his hands slightly fidgeting. I noticed that his button up was rolled up to his elbows. His arms were a little bigger than what I remember and his chest looked more built with a curve to his torso. He was also taller. He used to be only a few inches taller than me due to malnourishment. He looked healthier and stronger— Much better than when he did when we first became friends. It made my heart skip a little.

“Oh— Uh. It’s nice to see you too. Sorry, I’ve just been super busy since I moved back into town.” I briefly explained, but even then, I felt like such an idiot for explaining in the first place.

“Oh.” He muttered.

We stared at each other again, not talking. The air felt thick and full of pressure. My heart searched for that familiar comfort in his prescence but it was no use.

“I… I should get going now.” I said, slightly gesturing to the door.

“Right— Uh… I’ll see you around?” He asked, a little glimmer in his eyes as if hopeful. A bit of me ached seeing him so desperate.

“Uh, yeah.” I quickly said without thinking. What? “Yeah, I’ll see around.”

I turned around and pushed open the glass door. The cold breeze slapping me in the face.

Holy shit.

Did I just talk to Wilbur Soot?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a / n ~ this was mainlyyy about lore for the reader. but dw the next chapter is going to be alll about siren dont even worry about it. notes of all kind are super appreciated especially reblogs!!

[chellyfishing]

so since i got my HOUSE WHAT WHO IS SHE i decided to revisit all the places i’ve decorated and do a little tour/bts explanation for all of them because ?? i feel like it, anyway LOTS of pictures and uninteresting text under the cut

so my room in the fc house (famfrit LB w22p33) isn’t the first fc room i ever had but it shares a lot of similarities with what i did in the first one, which also doesn’t exist anymore. also i should preface this by saying that i’m not a fancy house person, i don’t do all their little tricks because honestly, i don’t have the patience for it, plus i’m on console and when i tell you even placing things normally on console is a real fucking chore sometimes. amanda does some really neat and creative things and knows her way around housing and i commend her for that, seriously you should check out some of the things she’s done. meanwile the most i ever do is putting wall-mounted items where they shouldn’t go and once i floated an actual piece of furniture (you’ll see) and it was such a pain that i’m never touching that item again, it’s there until the heat death of the universe, and i have no interest in repeating the process anywhere else!

anyway the fc room. i made this when i was really getting to know the system on a basic level, for example i believe i got the idea for the partition door from amanda because i didn’t actually know what kind of furnishings there were lmao. the theme here is basically like fairy forest, which was what i was initially planning to do for my house if i ever got one (five years later........)

here’s the little entrance area. as you can see i use this place to put seasonal items and whatnot as well because hwy hnot.

this is the little reading nook on the other side of the door.

the bath area

another angle on that so you can see how it fits together, the bath is behind the screen on the left

and this is the upstairs! cozy lofts are a bit of a signature move for me but as mentioned above i don’t like floating furniture--this bed is the one time i did it. but i think it turned out cute and with the vibe i wanted in the end so overall, thanks past me for the struggle.

i helped with the fc house itself but the vast majority of the work was done by amanda, i mostly helped with idea generation and crafting, so i shan’t be taking credit for her work. it’s dope tho. the theme there (as requested by lesbian overlord noodl) is cult and amanda really nailed it.

so then i was sad about probably never getting a house so rose offered to let me decorate hers (hype LB w23p29) since she had never really done it up. i decided to go full fairy on it, as i’d always wanted (while i was working i left what angel wakes me on loop). this means for materials plants, flowers, wood, and as little metal as humanly possible, and the colors are, like in the room above, mostly green, brown, and pink. they’ve actually released a few new items since i did this that would fit the theme super well so i maaaaay go back and tweak a bit, as it is now i believe i’ve used every available items space though.

her house is on such a cool plot!! it’s got its own little bridge and it’s right by a big waterfall. S-tier.

so for the yard i really wanted it to feel overgrown and wild and mysterious, and thanks to some big-ass trees i think i really managed it despite the incredibly limited inventory space for yards. i knew i’d achieved it when grave came by for a visit and went “HELP I’M LOST.” exactly the reaction i wanted. out of the three yards i’ve done, this is the one i’m most satisfied with.

(rod and todd voice) thank you treesus

so this inside area on the first floor took quite a bit of work because it involved putting wall-mounted things where they don’t belong, including the simple need to sometimes turn the staircases around so they face the right way because for some godforsaken reason you can’t simply rotate them. i have sort of mixed feelings on how it turn out. i like what i did with the fountain. i kind of wanted to put more stuff like flowers on the lofts but i ran out of inventory space. i dunno i kinda just wanted to do something a little interesting while still leaving it easy to move around in (which is part of what took so fking long, finding the right place for everything so nothing was blocking the door or too low in the middle of the room), so this is what i came up with.

downstairs is where i REALLY went ham.

in the first area there it’s pretty simple, with of course the return of the signature cozy loft, and the bells tucked away below it.

behind the pink door is a little parlor area and you start to really understand how i ran out of inventory space. there are little details all over that aren’t necessarily obvious but i think make a difference overall.

and last but not least, the bedroom, because rose is a sleepy overworked girlie who needs a place to lie down sometimes. the good thing about this place not being real is that if it was, her allergies would be too bad for her to actually ever go near it.

next is the hype fc house (hype shiro w25p14) which ofc xae took pity on me and got after my 87th lottery loss. i just posted pictures of it here recently so that’s why it seems familiar, but i thought i’d go into a little more detail. as i probably said before, the theme here is tropical/beachy. i’m pretty positive this is the most expensive place i’ve ever done. there are some absolutely outrageously expensive items in here.

you can tell right away that xae picked the plot because i’m being photobombed by the market board. we ended up going with these exterior walls because obviously we both liked them, plus the design takes up more yard space which means working with the limited inventory is a bit easier, PLUS i was unaware at the time that everyone else in our ward was going to use them too. (you can even see one such, who also painted it green, right behind us in the above picture. one time i walked into our neighbor’s yard and was SO confused before i realized i was at the wrong house because as you can see in the background below, it is ALSO these walls painted green.)

(oh my goodness the stable is so dirty DON’T LOOK AT IT i’m not on the account that can clean it!) this yard was much harder to do because as you can see i didn’t have any big bulky trees to work with. i really wanted a lot more painted gravel sand and would have happily covered the entire yard with it if i could, but as it is i had to be satisfied with a little bonfire area by the hot tub (which is part of the walls). overall i’m decently pleased with this, i think i did the best i could with what i had.

this is the top floor and obviously the real star of the show is the money elephant, who is my king. again i would have loved to cover this place in sand but there kind of isn’t anything i know of for that so what i decided to do was lean into the fact that this is indoors and go with primarily mixed wood. this room might not look like much but it cost several million (the money elephant alone was over 3mil). also this is the beginning of another signature move, abuse of the waterfall partition. they’re hard to see here but there’s water running down the foliage on the walls and i think it looks dooooope. this is also how i found out you are capped on how many of each individual item you can put in a space, and that the cap for waterfall partitions is 20. i made it work.

let’s head downstairs.

ah! here are all the other waterfall partitions. believe it or not, i’m not actually at total capacity for items in this place. i’m still miffed bunny boys aren’t an option for your housing npcs so i went with cute cat girls instead. you may notice the bottom large tank in the corner is still empty, because i will accept nothing less than the coral manta. have i tried getting one, you ask? to which i answer, how dare you speak to me. also, there is a lack of cozy loft. i experimented with one but couldn’t really figure out what to do with it. anyway that’s why there are flagstone lofts on the ceiling in the back, because again, those were so fucking expensive and once they became market prohibited i was going to use them anyway no matter what. to be honest i would love to cover this whole ceiling in those, and i probably have the space for it, but god they’re so expensive and i already sunk so so SO much (of xae’s) money into this place. maybe some day if they drop in price. behind the medium fish tanks under the flagstone lofts is a little backstage area that’s not meant for people to go in, where i put the bells and orchestrion. secrets.

anyway now that there’s a house i abandoned luna’s apartment that i was mainly using as storage (didn’t even get my deposits back) and built her a room here instead. the reason that i a little bit love how this turned out is my color choice, it’s just so rich and vibrant. not really a theme here, but i was a bit inspired by the hannish rug and wall lamps, so a lot of saturated red, blue, and gold. also, the haptic feedback from walking on the tatami flooring is sooooo satisfying.

the entrance area.

this is the room behind the trick bookcase. if it seems like i didn’t really know what to put here that’s because i didn’t and still don’t. also you can’t see it because i guess it counts as an npc but there’s a mannequin just plopped down in front of the fish tank because i was using it to pass money between accounts and i guess i forgot to put it away.

this is the area opposite that room, including a little bathroom that is so small it is very hard to actually get a camera angle for a decent picture. also yes that is an icebox in the corner, yes it was unnecessarily expensive, yes i can open it to reveal frozen idk fish or something, but it was the perfect size for what i wanted so now it’s a bathroom cabinet and we simply never open it.

ROTSCL (return of the signature cozy loft). this area probably took the most time, moving the fish tank up and down, moving walls, finding a way so that the fish tank didn’t block the bathroom door but was still visible, i make it look easy but really trying to find the right combination of items and placement was DIFFICULT. the fish tank is still partially obscured by the chandelier but i like the chandelier too much to change it and ultimately i decided it was gOOD ENOUGH NOW.

and then a couple of boring angles leading to the bedroom. naturally on the most important one here i appear to have forgotten to turn on the photo mode lighting but i do not feel like going back and retaking it. there’s not a lot of detail anyway, it’s just a nice little room.

and now... finally... for the new house.

it is at the best plot in the game (i don’t make the rules). i didn’t take a shot from an angle to show it but it is right at the beach by the dock, the marketboard is just behind where i took the picture from, and the housing npcs are all right behind/below me. it’s super convenient, has a great view with no other houses blocking it, and is not crowded by anything else. SS-tier. godly. again, the best plot in the game.

before we proceed, i think my plaque is pretty good (famfrit mist w19p36 as per):

yes it is listed as a haunted house. no i don’t care if people think that means it’s some kind of immersive experience.

so for the theme here, it’s a bit similar to the fc on hype in that it’s also ocean-related, but it’s like the difference between a warm beach and a cold beach. i was heavily inspired by the grebuloff area in the omicron quests because the minute i saw it i knew i had to try to emulate it somehow.

i’m a little iffy on the yard. i love that entrance walkway, but i think the sides look kind of dark and barren by comparison, especially on the left. now, you might be thinking, chelle, do you really need two of those bridge-and-pond setups, you might be able to do something else with that space, to which i answer, those bridges were expensive and i’m not going to just chuck one into storage to gather dust (i may end up doing that. but i don’t WANT TO AAH). anyway, i’m still tweaking it--i just added the striking dummy yesterday in fact, but for now this is what it is. i have some ideas for what i might change but ugh, no SPAYCE. anyway, let’s go inside, where you’ll find some coffee and tea and a message book right by the door.

each floor has kind of a different quality to it. the ground floor is kind of like, you’re underwater but it’s not deep. this is the one i most wanted to look like the grebuloff area, apart from the yard anyway. while in rose’s house and the hype fc house i used a lot of dark wood and vibrant colors, here i wanted to use mostly white stone, particularly marble, and more simple greenery. i was also kind of channeling my favorite sonic level, the aquatic ruin zone from sonic 2. i didn’t actually consult any pictures of it directly other than the ones in my head but i think that’s why i ended up with as much plant life as i did. also there were a couple other fish tank trimmings that fit the theme better but neither had a background and i didn’t like how much blank dark wood that left splayed against the back wall. the reaction i get the most from this room is “wait, are these TABLES?” (the answer is yes.)

upstairs is the living area. if some parts look familiar, no they don’t. i have to point out the chandelier to everyone who comes by because it think it’s so dope. it looks so stupid and nothing in the thumbnail because for some reason that’s from a mostly top-down angle, but in action i think it’s one of the coolest chandeliers in the game and because it has marble, light blue, and green plants, fits this theme like a glove. so this area is a little more surface-like than downstairs, like maybe just on the shore or right below the water. i also had more than twice as many of those planter shelves crammed with knickknacks and i liked how it looked but it ate up like 20% of my entire inventory space for something that was kind of not really that noticeable since it’s so close to the ceiling. anyway i took down a bunch and i guess i still think it looks all right.

this is the spa room (again, hard to get a good angle on). since i had more space for it i decided to make it more luxurious, like i would want in real life. you can’t really customize like any of very small number of tubs sadly but i stuck a tiny byakko table with a hingan lamp on it in the corner there to cover up the ugly unlit metal lamp thing that this comes with (metal is NOT one of my target materials!!).

detail shot of my titania shadowbox cause i just love it is all.

here’s the bedroom. the first thing everybody does when they come in here is lie on the bed (or jump on it, but mostly the former). another tiger screen here like in my first fc room because i bought like six at the event. my main dissatisfaction in here is that the walls are so barren but i couldn’t think of anything to do with them that wouldn’t just be an inventory-eating repeat of elsewhere. to ponder on i guess.

okay now it’s time to go to the basement.

oh. if you were wondering where the waterfall partitions were, all twenty of them are down here, in the water room, where i keep the water. also, i know the ice chandelier or whatever it’s called is a better fit color-wise but i like purple more and that other one doesn’t rotate like this one does. plus i still had one of these on me unlike the blue ones.

here are my little guys and also more fish. by the way, all the fish here and in the hype fc house are saltwater fish (one or two of luna’s tanks are freshwater i think) because it’s meant to be ocean-themed. as a result there are several repeats since there are vastly fewer displayable saltwater fish in the game and an even smaller amount that i actually like. i think i made good choices though!

the first thing people do when they come down here is jump in the ponds. nova said, “frog instinct,” and she’s so right. also grave stopped by and said, “i need a stage,” and he was right, a stage was called for. i’m not like, going to turn this place into a venue or anything, i don’t have any interest in that and this is the only room that would actually serve that purpose, but idk i thought once i put in the stone walls and floor and water that it seemed like a cool themed club or something. rainforest café but colder and with better food.

i didn’t really go over the music i picked because even though i did go through and spend a lot of time and several more millions getting my hands on as many orchestrion rolls as i could (at least on main) i don’t listen to the music in this game that much. however, i did sit and listen to samples and picked out songs i know i like, and i did listen to them all while i was taking pictures and putting together this post and i have to say, i picked some bangers (at least two places play oblivion, at least two play the main endwalker theme, and at least two play what angel wakes me. lol). i also only picked from the first three tabs in the last house because i decided i would maybe change it up every so often and i didn’t want to pick like the eight BEST BEST ones to start with.

anyway that’s everything! if you actually read through all this and looked at all the pictures, i genuinely appreciate it!! i dunno i had a lot of fun and i like talking about creative processes of any kind. as for other themes to try in the future, i think a castle one would be perfect for grave’s house if he ever decides he would like some input or aid. also, xae said he think it would be fun to open a café venue maybe at some point in the future, but if he chooses to do it at the fc house, then he is required by law to decide he wants his personal to be tropical beach-themed because i am NOT letting all those millions in furnishings go to waste. plus, money elephant is better than storage.

[weheartweekendsblog]

Five Easy To Do Electrical Projects For Your Home

Do you want to make some easy electrical upgrades to your home but don't know where to start? Here are five simple projects that will make a big impact without costing a lot of money. Read on to find out how you can update your lighting, increase your security, and more!

Add an outlet to an existing room:

If you're looking for an easy electrical project to add some pizzazz to your home, consider adding an outlet. It's a simple project that anyone can do, and it can make a big difference in the look and feel of your home.

There are a few things to keep in mind when adding an outlet. First, you'll need to identify where you want the outlet to go. Once you've done that, you'll need to turn off the circuit breaker that controls the circuit you'll be working on, Add a hole for the outlet box Wiring the outlet, Install the outlet box Mount the plate bracket, and Secure wires with wire nuts. Attach receptacle, Plug in, and test.

Replace an old light fixture:

If you have an old light fixture that you want to replace, the first thing you need to do is turn off the power to the fixture.

     Once the power is off, you can remove the old fixture. To do this, simply unscrew the screws that are holding it in place.

     Once the screws are removed, you can pull down on the fixture, and it should come right out.

     Now that the old fixture is out, it's time to install the new one. First, take a look at the new fixture and make sure that all of the parts are there.

     If everything looks good, go ahead and start screwing in the new screws. Once all of the screws are tight, turn on the power and check to make sure the new fixture is working.

Install a dimmer switch:

Different dim switches have different installations, but they all share some similar steps.

     First, you'll need to identify which wires are power lines and which are load-lines. You can do this by turning off the circuit breaker controlling the switch, and removing the faceplate.

     With a voltage tester, touch one probe to the black wire (this is usually the hot wire) and touch the other probe to each of the other wires in turn.

     The Load line will typically be colored red or black, but it may also be donut-shaped.

     Next, using your wire strippers, strip 3/4 inch of insulation from the end of each wire.

     After that, twist each individual wire clockwise around itself until it forms a small spiral. This will ensure that the wires make a good connection when you put the switch back together.

     Now, take the new dimmer switch and twist the Load wire clockwise around the appropriate screw. Do not overtighten the screw, as this could damage the dimmer switch.

     For the other two wires (the power lines), twist each one around a wire nut. Make sure that the wires are twisted together tightly so that they don't come loose.

     Once all of the wires are secure, screw the faceplate back on and turn on the power. Test out the new dimmer switch to make sure it's working properly.

Install a smoke detector:

Smoke detectors are a must-have in any home. They can help to save lives in the event of a fire. Here is how to install a smoke detector in your home.

Locate the ceiling or wall where you want to install the smoke detector. Smoke detectors should be installed on ceilings or walls that are within 10 feet of each room.

Use a drill to make a hole in the ceiling or wall for the smoke detector. Make sure that the hole is large enough for the smoke detector to fit through.

Insert the smoke detector into the hole and screw it into place using the screws that come with the detector. Make sure that it is level before tightening the screws.

Once the smoke detector is in place, connect the wires to the terminals. Black to black, white to white, and green (or bare copper) to green (or bare copper). If there is a red wire, it is typically used for interconnecting multiple detectors and can be ignored.

Replace the battery in the smoke detector and test it to make sure that it is working properly. It is a good idea to test your smoke detectors monthly to ensure that they are working correctly.

Replace a Ceiling Fan:

Replacing a ceiling fan is a project that most homeowners can do on their own.

     The first step is to turn off the power to the ceiling fan at the breaker box. Once the power is off, remove the light fixture by unscrewing the screws that hold it in place. Disconnect the wires from the light fixture and set it aside.

     Next, take down the canopy by unscrewing the screws that hold it in place. Remove any glass globes or light shades and set them aside. Unscrew the blades from the motor housing and set them aside.

     The new ceiling fan should come with a mounting bracket. If not, use one of the old brackets as a template to cut a new one out of plywood. Screw the mounting bracket into place on the ceiling using screws that are long enough to reach into the joists.

     Next, connect the wires from the ceiling fan to the wires in the electrical box. Black to black, white to white, and green (or bare copper) to green (or bare copper). If there is a red wire, it is typically used for controlling the speed of the fan and can be capped off with a wire nut.

     Once all of the wires are connected, screw the ceiling fan motor housing into place on the mounting bracket. Be sure to use screws that are long enough to reach into the joists. Attach the blades to the motor housing and screw them in place.

     Reattach the glass globes or light shades and screw them into place. Turn on the power to the ceiling fan at the breaker box and test it to make sure it is working properly.

These are just a few of the most common home wiring projects. If you're not comfortable tackling these projects on your own, be sure to contact a licensed emergency electrician. They will be able to help you with any home wiring project, no matter how big or small.

Final lines:

These are just a few of the most common home wiring projects. If you're not comfortable tackling these projects on your own, be sure to contact a licensed local electrician. They will be able to help you with any home wiring project, no matter how big or small. So, there's no need to be hesitant; get started on your wiring projects today!

[nationalharryleague]

Two for the Show

Summary: Jeff plans for Harry’s new opening act to be more than that. 

Genre: Famous Fake Dating! 

Word Count: 17.1k!

Pinterest Board

A/N: Hey babes!! This is something I’ve been working on since December now and I’m so fucking proud of it and how it turned out!!! It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written and I’m so so so excited to hear what everyone has to say!! Giant thank you’s go out to the incredible soph (@theharriediaries​) and Lu (@meetmymouth​) bc this never would have come to fruition without them and their help!! Please let me know what you think!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist!! Happy reading y’all :)

***

Keeping appearances in the public eye is a delicate balance.

If Y/N was being honest with herself, everything Full Stop Management had ever suggested to her had worked, and very well. When they suggested her music took a more pop direction, they set her up with a team of fantastic producers and her music sales and popularity skyrocketed. And when they set up an appointment with a celebrity stylist to figure out her signature style, it worked; they turned her into the 1970’s inspired goddess she had always dreamed of being. Even the hours of media training that she had been put through worked, helping her learn how to bob and weave even the most intrusive of interview questions.

But this time, she thought they might be going too far.

“Jeff,” she began with a sigh and a doubtful shake of her head, “I don’t know about this one.”

“It’s just a few months before and during the tour,” explained the man sitting across from her at the long conference table. “You’ll be seen in public a few times to drum up publicity for the tour and your album, maybe do an interview or two together, and some light PDA.”

His expression was honest and earnest. In the time he had represented her, he had never done anything to her that didn’t help her succeed. It was not hard for her to believe that he just wanted what was best for her and her career.

But something kept holding her back.

“I just got my heart broken in the most public way,” she said softly, absentmindedly fiddling with the base of her ring finger where an engagement ring once sat. “Isn’t it a little too soon to be seen jumping back into a whirlwind romance?”

“I don’t think so. If anything, it will make James look even worse than he already does after what he did to you.” She had to admit the idea of a little revenge did perk her ears up a bit. “And it doesn’t hurt that Harry is so universally loved and known for being such a good guy.”

That was another reason she was skeptical of this entire plot. This was Harry Styles they were talking about; Harry fucking Styles. She had only met him once or twice while working out details for her to be the opening act for his upcoming tour, but she had been a big fan of his and idolized him since she was a teen. Just meeting him threw her inner 16 year old self for a loop, let alone trying to pretend she was in love with him.

In all honesty, it probably wouldn’t be too hard on her end once she got over being starstruck; she wasn’t so sure she still wasn’t kind of in love with him, or at least the version the public saw.

“Listen,” Jeff began again, his voice taking on a bluntness, “no one cares about the opening act. No one bought tickets to see you; they’re there to see Harry.” His words stung but she knew it was the truth. “But if they think you are a part of Harry’s life, they care about you too. And they will keep on caring about you after they leave the show.” Her apprehensiveness must have been clear on her face when he put on a gentle smile. “He’s a really nice person. I promise.”

“I know,” she breathed, a small pout finding its way to her lips. “Fine,” she conceded after a moment, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically to signal surrender. “I’m in.”

A triumphant grin spread across his face. “Thank you. I’ll go call Harry and tell him you’re down.” She watched as he got up from his chair and came towards her, pressing a brief and friendly kiss to the top of her head. “You won’t regret this, Y/N.”

“I better not, Azoff,” she chuckled while shaking her head slightly.

Soon she was alone in the conference room, basking in the light from the floor to ceiling windows that sat before her.

“What did I just get myself into?” she mumbled quietly to herself.

***

The answer to that question came two weeks later when she was sitting across a table from the Harry Styles at a small outdoor brunch spot in LA. Their meeting place was strategic, a small restaurant, not too flashy so it didn’t look like they were seeking attention, but outdoors where anyone could see. It was only a matter of time before he was recognized, and the sighting was almost guaranteed to be trending on Twitter only minutes later.

She couldn’t say that she wasn’t nervous. The inside of her mouth had been chewed raw and the bags under her eyes showed she had been having trouble sleeping in the nights leading up to their first appearance together. By the end of the day, she would most likely have countless articles written about her and possibly have millions of angry fangirls coming after her; even though their “relationship” wouldn’t be officially confirmed for a few weeks.

If all went to Jeff’s plan, she would become an A-lister overnight.

She stood in front of her closet for over an hour, trying on and taking off outfits before finally settling on her favorite pair of bright red corduroy flares and a crisp white textured halter top. She paired the outfit with a new pair of heeled leather boots. They were a flashy pair that were split down the middle, bright yellow on one side and white with yellow stars on the other, hoping Harry would appreciate the bold colors.

She meticulously did her makeup, sure to match her lipstick color exactly to the shade of her pants; and spent far too long in front of the mirror fussing with her hair, praying it would lay the way she wanted it to.

She knew that she was going to be photographed in some way shape or form, and with the fashion icon himself. She had to look good. He had been on the cover of Vogue for god’s sake.

When she finally arrived at the cafe, Harry sat quietly across from her. He looked casual, or as casual as Harry Styles gets. A yellow t-shirt, that was tight enough to look as if it was painted on, showed off his muscular chest and arms. His iconic tattoos illustrated his arms and she hoped he wouldn’t notice as she covertly tried to examine closely. He uncomfortably ran his palms down the legs of his high waisted denim flares that had been paired with his signature pearl necklace and ratty, but well loved, white vans.

And she couldn’t forget his rings. His signature gold ‘H’ and ‘S’ looked back at her as he gently grasped his flute filled to the brim with a mimosa, bringing it to his pink lips that were surrounded by the short stubble he had been wearing lately.

The pair sat in a slightly awkward silence, both seeming to down their mimosas quickly just because it was something to do with their hands and could occupy their lips so they didn’t have to talk.

To say she was panicking, wouldn’t be too much of an over exaggeration. She was sitting across from one of the world’s biggest stars, and as one of his biggest closeted fans. The things he could do for her career were astronomical and it was hard to ignore that, but she also had a hard time getting over the way his hair seemed to fall into perfect tousled curls and his dreamy green eyes.

She had been in love with him (or at least the idea of him) since she was 16. She couldn’t help it.

But the bottomless mimosas helped to break her anxiety, and apparently his as well, as they both began to feel a slight buzz.

“So how did Jeff end up talking you into this?” Harry eventually broke the silence, the alcohol lowering his naturally shy inhibitions just enough to kick off their conversation.

She let a playful eye roll take over her face before she began. “Oh Jeff,” she said jokingly, letting out a long sigh. “I was convinced somewhere in between ‘it’ll make your ex look bad’ and a stern ‘no one ever cares about the opening act,’” she chuckled, while sarcastically wagging her finger in the air, dramatically re-enacting his scolds.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, letting out a dramatic ‘ouch.’ “He’s not always gentle, is he?” matching her chuckle.

“He knows where to hit you where it hurts,” she laughed, while nodding in agreement. “How did he convince you?”

“Coincidently, he also took a low blow involving my ex. I believe his words were ‘You wrote an entire album about her and haven’t dated anyone since and it makes you look kind of pathetic.’” He dramatically used air quotes and did his best impression of Jeff’s American accent. She couldn’t hold back the giggles that erupted from her.

“Oh my goodness,” she let out through slightly buzzed giggles, “you definitely win.”

From that point, their conversation began to flow more easily, easing her anxiety as she learned he was generally easy to talk to. He laughed at her jokes, and she laughed at his. He really did have the calming and disarming quality that people always said he had, like could melt down any walls and convince you to be honest with him, even if you didn’t really want to be. She was shocked to find that she wanted him to genuinely be a friend to her so badly. He was just so nice and such a good listener.

Their conversation took a turn when Harry’s super power of knowing when his picture was being taken kicked in. “Give me your hand,” he said to her, diverting from the pleasant conversation they had been having about their families. “Don’t look but there’s someone across the street taking photos of us.”

His instructions brought her back to the reality that they weren’t really friends and that all of this was for show.

She brought her hand up to meet his, strategically resting on the side of the table that faced the street, giving the camera the best view. The cool metal of his hand full of rings felt good against her skin that had been baking in the hot LA sun and he passed his thumb over her knuckles with faux affection.

She couldn’t help but feel a dishonest weight pulling on her heart. She knew everything was going to plan and this was all for the best, but it also felt slightly wrong. She played with her small heart shaped earring to distract herself from the sinking feeling.

“Harry,” she began, knowing the people across the street were out of ear shot. Her voice brought his attention from her hand back up to her eyes. “Does this feel wrong to you at all?”

“How so?”

“It just feels dishonest, like we’re lying to millions of people, our–well, mostly your fans.” She couldn’t help but correct herself.

His eyes softened at her words, like he was taking in the innocence she still held onto after only being in the industry for a short time, compared to his decade in the spotlight.

“I try not to think of it as lying,” he spoke slowly after a moment of thinking. He nodded along softly to punctuate his words. “When you think about all this as lying, it starts to weigh pretty heavy on you as a person. I try to be as honest as possible in my music and daily life, but that’s not always what people want to see. They want a show that will entertain them, and it is our job to give it to them.”

“I see,” she mused.

They sat together for another hour or so, allowing their small mimosa buzz to wear off enough for them to drive the short distances to their homes. The pair eventually found their way back to a comfortable conversation, but Harry’s comment about being in the public eye still weighed on her.

Suddenly, she wasn’t sure if all of this was worth it. Y/N was a master at dodging a question and turning the charm to 10 when it was needed, but she wasn’t a liar and she definitely wasn’t an actress. She hoped she (or Jeff) hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew with all of this.

Harry eventually walked her back to her car that was parked a few blocks away, and while she was sure he was doing it for the cameras, she didn’t doubt that he would have done it even if they weren’t there. He just seemed like that kind of guy to her; caring and trustworthy.

“Thank you for a very nice date, Harry,” she said, winking and chuckling along with the extra emphasis she put on the last word.

“My pleasure,” he smiled down at her. He moved along with her as she walked to the driver's side door, opening it for her like a perfect gentleman. The two stood close, his body hovering over her’s as they stood inside the open door. Her heart rose to her throat as he leaned down to her and pressed a gentle kiss to her burning cheek.

Y/N  looked back up at him with rosy cheeks and a tightlipped bashful smile. She watched as he walked backward carefully, taking her hand that had been locked with his until he was too far and let it fall back to her body.

She situated herself in her drivers seat and was ready to leave when she heard a knocking on the passenger side window that startled her. Harry had bent himself over and was motioning for her to roll the window down. When she did, he leaned himself in, an honest look in his eyes.

“Before you go,” he said gently. “A word of advice from someone who had been in the public eye for a long time,” he spoke with a tender yet serious tone, eyes locking with hers. “When you go home today, don’t go on social media. People are mean, and it’s just going to hurt.” She nodded along with his words and watched as he pinched his bottom lip. “And when you inevitably can’t resist, text me if you need to talk about it.”

***

They must have done a good job putting on their show because within an hour of her returning home to her apartment, they were all anyone was talking about. Their names were trending worldwide #1 on Twitter. Streams of Y/N’s debut album were up by 800%, and even Harry’s streams had taken a considerable jump. Y/N had gained 40,ooo new followers and views on every interview she had ever done were steadily rising.

All was going according to Jeff’s plan.

Harry’s words circled her brain for hours. “Don’t go on social media,” she heard him say over and over again as she paced her apartment, only stopping to look at the phone sitting on the kitchen counter every so often.

She had taken a shower, done her hair, tried to watch TV, cooked herself dinner, and even tried to sit down and write a song; it all got her nowhere fast. The unknown was eating at her inside.

Y/N broke when she heard the small ding signaling she had gotten a text message. She had all but sprinted to see who it was, reunited with the outside world through her touch screen. Unsurprisingly, it was from Jeff; the message sent to her and an unknown number she assumed to be Harry’s.

Good job, kiddos., was all it read but there was a photo attached to the message. Her heart stopped while she waited for the photo to load, cursing her slow wifi in the process. After a few breathless moments, the photo came through.

It was a screenshot from the website of one of the biggest entertainment magazines in the country. A picture of him kissing her cheek was the front page of the website.

Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N Rumored To Be Music’s New Power Couple Ahead of Tour

She was honestly speechless. This was huge.

She would like to say the sheer shock blurred her judgement, but the curiosity just got the better of her. Harry’s words repeated over and over again in her head, telling her not to, even as her finger connected with the icon of the little blue bird.

She was the most talked about topic in the entire world, her name hovering in bold letters on the trending page. She did everything she could to not click on her name, but her fingers did it all on her own.

The first few tweets were nice. Someone said they liked her style and that they looked cute together as a couple. Another said that they had always enjoyed her music and that they were happy for them.

But as she scrolled, it became harsher and just mean. People commented on her weight, said she couldn’t sing, and criticized her personality as seeming fake and forced. Her eyes were locked on the screen, unable to look away, as her heart began to break and few tears began to roll.

It took one final, and the most painful, tweet for her to consider deleting her account completely. She swiped out of the app fast, but the words were still burned into her brain.

Y/N is using Harry, just like she used James before he got rid of her and found someone better.

The words knocked the wind out of her, pouring salt on an open wound that had yet to heal.

She also had the little blue bird for that heartbreak as well. When she opened the app two months ago, the first thing she saw was pictures of her (former) fiance, James, with his tongue down some girl’s throat. At the time she had been devastated, her heart broken beyond repair.

It felt like no one else in the world could understand the way she was feeling. If she was in this position because of another person, they must get it too. The text to Harry was already sent before she had time to think it over.

I looked and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen.

His response came only seconds later.

Don’t be sorry. It’s hard not to. Are you alright?

She had to think about his question, unsure if she knew the answer. Tears were still running down her face and she felt like she was a target the entire world had decided it was open season on. Logically, she knew these people never thought she would see these awful things, but it didn’t excuse the hurt she felt when she did.

I don’t know. I just don’t understand how people can be so cruel.

She felt like she was bothering him, even though he had offered to be there for her. He wasn’t her best friend, or a close confidant; he was her fake publicity boyfriend. He had real friends he wanted to talk to or maybe even a real girlfriend underwraps somewhere. Her body was wracked with guilt as she thought it over.

People are just mean on the internet, okay? They think they can say whatever they want without repercussions. I’m so sorry that you are being targeted because of me.

Before she got a chance to think through a proper response to him, her phone dinged with another text. It was from Jeff again.

Really good job, kiddos.

Y/N was confused. They hadn’t done anything else but be seen together today. Her sick sense of curiosity got her again before she opened Twitter again and looked up Harry’s name. He had tweeted for the first time in six months only a few moments ago.

@Harry_Styles: We treat people with kindness.

***

The next time she saw him was two days later at yet another public meet up Jeff had arranged for them. Unfortunately this time, she had become just as famous as Harry seemingly overnight, the flames of her new found fame growing even larger after he had sent that tweet.

While the fame had grown, the hate had calmed since his statement, which most had taken as an official declaration of their relationship. Now, that was not to Jeff’s plans.

She had to fight her way out of her apartment complex, wearing a pair of massive dark sunglasses with circular lenses and shielding her face with her hands the best she could. But she did have to admit that the electric orange fabric of her jumpsuit probably didn’t do much to help her blend in and avoid the attention of the paparazzi that had now found out where she lived.

Harry was sitting at the table by himself facing the back of the cafe when she arrived, two cups of coffee waiting before him to be drank together placed delicately on the table. He had his head down, buried in a book, before she startled him with a hug from behind. Her cheek connected with his warm neck where she buried her head into him and she took in his dizzying cologne.

She felt him jump beneath her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing a dramatic and cheesy kiss to his cheek, feeling his light stubble prick her chapsticked lips. “My hero,” she joked, trying to bring at least a little humor to the man who had just about jumped out of his skin at her touch.

It felt like she was crossing a boundary, and she was pretty sure she was, but she just needed to thank him and a hug felt like the best way to do that while in a semi-crowded coffee shop. Also, playing up that they were madly in love didn’t hurt.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, a hand flying over his chest in surprise to feel his racing heartbeat. “You scared the shit out of me.” Once he settled for a moment, his arm moved across his chest to rest on her arm. His touch was gentle and soft, holding her there gently like he didn’t want her to release him from her grasp. She tried not to think about it too much as she slipped her arms off of him, making her way to the seat that was clearly meant for her across from him.

“I’m sorry that I scared you. A little jumpy today?” she teasingly questioned.

“Hey, watch it,” he playfully threatened. “I believe you called me your hero about thirty seconds ago.”

“I guess I did,” she quipped over the mug she was bringing to her lips. It was sweet but not too sweet, with cream but not too much, and still piping hot; just the way she liked it. “I don’t think it’s too far off,” she smiled before turning back to the coffee. “Good coffee,” she mused. “Just the way I like it.”

“Good. I texted Jeff for your order,” he informed her, the gesture being so thoughtful and sweet she could have melted into a puddle right there and then. “And I think ‘hero’ might be a bit much,” he tacked on.

“Don’t be humble, Harry.” While her voice was still light and held a jesting tone, she meant her words. “You made the entire internet leave me alone, for the most part,” she clarified as there were definitely some nasty messages still floating around Twitter, “in five words.”

“It was the least I could do,” he said while shaking his head slightly, seeming to deflect her words.

“You could have done absolutely nothing.” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand in hers like they had staged at the cafe a few days earlier; but this time, it was an honest gesture, not one for a role they were both meant to be playing. Her words were serious, punctuating each with a gentle nod of her head. “I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His eyes held the same truthfulness and honesty she hoped she was mirroring in her own. “I know all of this,” he paused and gestured between them with his free hand, “is for publicity, but I consider you a friend. It was hard to watch it all go down like that. You’re a good person and you didn’t deserve all that. I had to do something.”

There was a warmth that flooded her chest. He called me his friend, she thought to herself, fighting back a big toothy grin. She had been under the impression that all of this was just work for him, something he was doing just to drum up publicity, with no personal connections at all. But him calling her a friend meant so much to her. It meant she was not alone in all this terrifying and overwhelming attention.

“I’m glad you think of me as a friend,” she said, still holding back her smile. “You’re my friend too.” He matched her close-lipped smile that had fought its way onto her face at her words.

They sat in silence together for a few moments. Harry returned to his book and Y/N answered emails; but their hands stayed connected across the small table. This silence was very different from the silence on the day they first met. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence that sat on your tongue, begging you to break the quiet; it was peaceful and safe.

Their silence was broken when a young woman wearing a jittery smile and nervous eyes approached their table. Her voice squeaked out a mouse-like “Hi,” towards the both of them, bringing their eyes up to meet hers and instinctively breaking their hands away from each other.

“I’m so so sorry to be a bother,” she began, cheeks red and hot. “But I’m a really big fan of both of you and I would never forgive myself if I didn’t say hello.” She rambled excitedly, mostly looking at Harry, as she held her slightly shaky hands up to her chest.

“Hello,” Harry said with one of his million dollar smiles. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Emma,” she breathed.

“Well, it’s so nice to meet you Emma.” He spoke gently with her, clearly sensing her anxiety, extending his hand for her to shake. “Thank you for all of your support.”

Y/N watched closely as he spoke with her. He spoke to her like she was the only person in the room, giving her his whole undivided attention, and repeatedly thanking her as she flooded him with compliments about how his music and message of kindness meant so much to her. She was so entranced that she nearly didn’t hear her own name being said as the girl turned towards her.

“I love your music as well,” she grinned, clearly more comfortable after her short conversation with Harry. “And your jumpsuit is just incredible.” Her nervous giggle was contagious, Y/N releasing one as well at the compliment as her cheeks heated slightly. She was shocked she even knew any of her music, clearly being the less popular of the pair.  

“Thank you so much, Emma. It means a lot.”

Emma took a few quick selfies with the both of them (that would be everywhere within a few hours), said goodbye and went to leave the two, but not before she paid them one last compliment. “You two are really cute together. I’m rooting for you.”

Both of their cheeks warmed as they looked back at each other. They were quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond, before Harry turned his attention back to the girl with a coy smile. “I am too,” was all he said.

***

The next three weeks passed in a blur of tour rehearsals, fittings, and public meetings with Harry. And then all of a sudden, it was the night of the first show.

Y/N had never been so nervous in her entire life. She would be the first face seen by just over 19,000 people, tasked to warm up the crowd and prepare them for Harry, which was enough pressure. And then there was the chance that they all hated her guts.

She stood behind the curtain, listening to the loud and inpatient crowd as she paced back and forth. She white-knuckeld her guitar, trying to keep her violently shaking hands from being too visible to the crew around her. Her stomach swirled and her palms were clammy, constantly having to rub them on the pants of her icey blue jumpsuit. It fit her like a glove, the wide legged pants and slight shoulder pads, creating a perfect hourglass silhouette; the only thing she was confident in at the moment was how good she looked in it.

Her heart leapt out of her chest and she almost hit the ceiling when a small voice appeared over her shoulder, whispering “You’re going to do great,” in her ear. If her heart wasn’t about to give out before, it was now. She swung around to face him, almost hitting Harry with her guitar, letting out a small breath of relief when her eyes met his own. They always seemed to calm her down a bit.

“I’m kinda freaking out, H,” she anxiously babbled, using the nickname he had told her to call him. “This is the biggest crowd I’ve ever played in front of, and they probably all hate me because they think I’m dating you, and I have to make sure I do a good job so they start listening to my music; and I just…” she trailed off for a second, uncomfortably scratching the back of her neck, “I just can’t let you down.”

His face softened at her words, seeming to take pity on her. “Y/N,” he began, resting his hands on her shoulders and looking so deep into her eyes she felt like he could probably see her soul. “We picked you to open because people love your music and the way that you perform. You just have to go out there and do what you do best: sing your heart out and put on a good show. It’s only 25 minutes. I know you can do it.”

Every word that left his lips was laced with honesty and encouragement; just enough for Y/N to relax her furrowed brow and give her lip a break from her constant chewing. “I can do it,” she softly repeated back to him, still not breaking contact with his striking green eyes.

A stage manager passed by them, running to some other important task, but not before tapping her shoulder. “You’re on in 30 seconds,” he spoke, just as she heard the roar of the crowd begin, signalling the dimming of the lights in the arena.

“Go kick some ass,” he winked, stepping backwards from her and releasing her from his grasp. “I’ll be watching.”

Walking on stage, she wasn’t met with ‘boo’s that had plagued her nightmares, or mean looks from the audience, or rotten tomatoes thrown from the crowd.

They were screaming in excitement, screaming for her.

From the second she started playing, the crowd had her back; the ones that knew the words to her songs sang them along with her, and the ones that didn’t, happily danced to her voice. Before long, the smile she had forced onto her face was genuine, and her set passed by with ease. When her 25 minutes were up, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get off the stage.

She took her final bow as the crowd roared, running off of the stage into the wings, looking for one person in particular. And when she found him, she threw herself into Harry’s open and waiting arms. “I told you that you were going to do great!” He spoke excitedly into her ear and he held her close to his body, his arms wrapped around her waist tight.

She liked the way it felt to be in his arms.

Pulling away from him, she saw the massive grin that he wore for her, noting how adorable his dimples were and how the excited look in his eyes made him look like a little kid. But there was more to his face than excitement, he looked proud.

“They were so nice to me, and they knew my songs, and they were screaming so loud for me, and it just went so well. I can’t believe it!” Her previous anxious chatter had become an exhilarated rambling and she felt on top of the world.

“I can,” he grinned, looking down at his watch quickly. “I have to go get changed.” If she wasn’t so amped up, she might have noticed the disappointment that flashed over his features. “Promise me you’ll watch the show?”

“Pinky swear?” She stuck up her little finger in the air.

“Pinky swear.” He kept their pinkies locked for a moment too long, then released her hand and ran backstage to get dressed.

She kept her promise and watched with excitement as the building shook when Harry took the stage.

She had never heard something quite so loud, sure her ears would be ringing when she snuggled into her bunk on the tour bus that night. Watching him perform was mesmerizing; he knew how to work a stage in every way and make every person in the arena feel like he was singing just for them. He was larger than life while performing and his little dances and mannerisms only got more pronounced the more comfortable he got on stage. He messed with Mitch, who she had only met a few hours ago (he was very nice), and constantly praised Sarah on the drums behind him, while he looked over to Adam and sent him smiles often.

Everyone in the building came for a show, and boy, did he give them one. It was amazing to watch. There was a reason she was a fan.

Bouncing off the stage, full of adrenaline and in a post-show high, he came to find her. It wasn’t hard, as she had never left her spot on the side of the stage, unable to rip her eyes away from the man before her.

“Oh my god, Harry! That was incredible!” she said with delighted amazement.

“I’m glad you liked it.” He was smiling down at her with a big toothy grin, a hand running through his sweaty hair and pushing it off his forehead. “They only get better from here.”

***

He was telling the truth. The shows only got crazier and more exciting as the tour went on, and so did their “relationship.”

About five shows in, Jeff had Harry given her his “H” ring to start wearing. Harry didn’t seem too phased by it all even though she thought it might be too much, saying “it’s like a friendship bracelet.” But it was too big for her fingers, not because she had small hands, but because Harry’s were absolutely massive. She wore it on a chain around her neck from then on and made sure to always be seen playing with it.

Fans took notice and loved it.

A little after that, Jeff sent them off to get matching manicures. Both had a melting rainbow of oranges, pinks, and browns on their fingertips, which looked amazing in the paparazzi photos of them walking around with their fingers intertwined.

The fans loved that too.

But when she “accidentally” posted a photo of Harry on her story, the entire world lost it’s shit. In the photo, he laid sprawled across a bed in only a white hotel robe that was creeping dangerously high up his thigh. He looked sleepy and slightly sweaty, in a post-fuck haze, and clothes that looked very similar to ones she had been seen wearing in public only days before were strewn across the floor. The caption read “I love getting to love you.”

The photo had strategically only been up for about 30 seconds, but by the time it was deleted thousands of people had seen it and screenshots had been taken. They quickly circulated the internet, creating a bit of scandal. But more than anything, people began to love the two of them together even more. Harry looked genuinely happy in the photo, and for most of his fans, that was all that mattered.  

They were creating a fairytale love story for an audience, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying her role. She quite liked being his “girlfriend.”

Harry and Y/N had a way of clicking as they grew closer–quite literally as they were crammed together on a tour bus most of the time. They seemed to be able to finish each other’s sentences and always beat the other to the punchline of a joke. The pair had begun to pick up on the other’s mannerisms and habits; Y/N always teasing that Harry was going to rub his nose off one day if he kept rubbing it while he was thinking and Harry always knowing when she got enough sleep by whether or not she had put on eyeliner that morning. They swapped playlists back and forth in their bunks as they tried to doze off and always grabbed a cup of coffee for whoever had decided to sleep in the next day, now knowing the other’s order by heart.

There was only one thing she didn’t know about him that she longed to discover: what his lips felt like against her own. She could never think too hard about it though, or she may just explode.

He had become a calming presence and was currently helping her keep her cool, even though she knew the pair of interviewers across the table were getting ready to grill the pair for every detail they could get. His hand had settled on top of her knee to quell it’s nervous bouncing, but remained after she had stopped, even though no one could see his touch under the table. She watched as his thumb ran itself back and forth along the leg of her flashy orange and yellow patterned overalls and she had a hard time pulling her gaze away when the radio host across the large table began to speak.

“So Harry,” the bald man began. “Fine Line has been one of the biggest albums of the year and I just have to say I love it. It’s truly incredible.” She listened as the man continued on to sing Harry’s praises, going on to list his grammy nominations, sold out world tour, and other accolades. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched his cheeks tinge pink with the praise. She knew anyone watching would pick up on her adoring look and people fawn over it, but she knew her gaze was nothing but truthful.

“Thank you very much,” he said shyly, shaking his head slightly as he spoke into the microphone suspended in front of his face. “You’re too kind.”

“Stop being humble,” she teased him, playfully tapping him on the arm. “All of his music is fantastic,” she said turning her attention back to the man across from them, “especially Fine Line.”

“And there’s Y/N, being the supportive girlfriend,” the man chuckled.

“I support him in everything he does,” she smiled back, not having to embellish the truth at all. “He is an amazing talent and I think Fine Line shows that.”

It wasn’t hard for her to gush about him. It was actually quite easy. She absolutely adored him, as an artist, a friend, and the focus of her affection. She felt an equal warmth in her cheeks as she watched his get even pinker with her compliments.

“That’s actually something we wanted to ask you about,” the blonde woman sitting next to him piped up, a mischievous glint in her eyes that sent nervous butterflies flying around Y/N’s stomach. “One of the songs on Fine Line, Cherry to be specific, actually features the voice of Harry’s ex, Camille. How does that make you feel as his new girl?”

Y/N did her best not to gag at the woman’s question, gritting her teeth as she plastered on a polite smile. “Well, I think Cherry is a really great song and her voice at the end adds a lot,” she spoke as smoothly as she could, refusing to let on that the question rattled her. Harry’s light squeeze on her knee signalled to her that she had answered the question well.

“It’s also been three years since the song was written,” Harry cut in. “Things are obviously a lot different now.” He connected their eyes for a second while he was leaning back into his seat, sending her a short smile, but she knew him well enough to know it was genuine.

“Oh, definitely,” the woman eagerly agreed. “You’re in a great new relationship with a beautiful girl on your arm.”

“Y/N,” he emphasized her name as the woman had referred to her as a possession of his for a second time, “and I are very happy. Thank you.” To an onlooker, he was calm. To her, he was visibly uncomfortable by her words.

Y/N began to notice a clear pattern as the interview went on. Harry was asked exclusively about his music and the tour, while Y/N only became relevant to their interviewers when they wanted to mention their relationship.

When the man asked Y/N if she felt uncomfortable playing to Harry’s mainly female fanbase every night that are “so obviously jealous of her,” something snapped inside of her, sending all her hours of media training out the window. “I’m not uncomfortable at all,” she said curtly. “His music is great and he puts on an awesome show. I don’t think the audience’s gender really has anything to do with the music.” She watched the man’s face fall before she decided to go on. “And I would like to think that at least a few of them are there for me too. You do know I make music too, right?”

An indignant smirk found its way to her lips as the man stammered out, “yes, of course.”

“Okay. I was just wondering since you have only asked me questions about our relationship since we got here.”

She knew Jeff wouldn’t be happy, but at the moment, she couldn’t care less. They may not have really been dating, but the interviewers didn’t know that. All of their dismissal of her and her career was 100% real.

She had been so worked up that she didn’t even realize Harry’s hand had left her knee until it found its way to rest on her back. She leaned into his touch as he rubbed her back softly while she crossed her arms in front of her.

The interviewers looked at the two of them across the table, jaws both lying on the floor. It was quiet until Harry nonchalantly spoke. “She has a point.”

The last few minutes of the interview passed in an awkward blur that felt suffocating. She felt like she could finally take in a deep breath once they were in the back of a massive SUV being driven away from the studio.

“Jeff is going to have my head,” she mumbled under her breath, nose stuck into her phone as she scrolled Twitter to see what people were saying about her outburst. But before she could read any opinions, Harry's tattooed arm blocked her view as he gently pushed her phone down onto her lap.

“Look at me,” he murmured, beckoning her attention to the other side of the back seat. When she connected her eyes with his, his usual calming aura took over her, softening the stressed crease between her brows. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Harry, I just blew my career up into smoke because I couldn’t deal with a rude interviewer,” she huffed at him.

“No,” he disagreed softly, moving the hand that rested on her arms to interlock his fingers with one of hers. “You stuck up for yourself to people who were ignoring your work and whittling you down to your relationship.”

“But it was rude.”

“It was necessary.”

The car ride to the venue for that night’s concert was quiet, but Harry never let go of her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles in a comforting touch. She wasn’t sure if she ever wanted him to let go.

***

It was the early hours of the morning by the time the pair returned to their tour bus and went to crawl into their bunks.

Her performance had gone well and Harry was mesmerizing (as always). He was truly hypnotizing to watch while he performed and she hadn’t missed watching him yet, even as they drew close to the end of the tour. It was the best part of her day and she would miss it dearly after the last show.

She was almost asleep, curtain drawn and cuddled under a pile of blankets, when her cell began to ring. Her heart sank, knowing only one person who would know when she had a sliver of free time (even though it’s debatable if sleeping counts as free time). She was going to get scolded like she was a little kid in the principal's office and she knew it.

“Hi Jeff,” she answered with a sigh as she pulled the curtain back and slid from the bunk, the cold air of the tour bus nipping at her legs.

Her gaze was met by a snuggled up Harry wearing a concerned face across from her in his own bed. He never closed the curtain, not even when she asked politely to muffle his snores, always saying something about how it made him claustrophobic. He sent her a tired smile and mouthed “good luck,” extending a hand for a fist bump as she passed. Knocking their knuckles together put a brief smile on her face before she buckled in for the chewing out she was about to get.

Harry watched her intently as she paced up and down the front of the tour bus as she spoke to Jeff, too far away for him to listen in. Her face gradually turned from anxious, to surprised, to something that would have probably been happiness if she wasn’t so tired.

“Alright, thank you for everything.” She spoke softly when she finally returned to be within earshot for him. “Goodnight Jeff.”

“So?” he murmured groggily at her, brows raised in question at her.

“People loved it,” she said shocked, like she didn’t fully believe it herself. “They think I’m some kind of badass for shutting down a sexist. Which is, like, a lot,” she spoke with a disbelieving chuckle, unable to find the right words in her groggy state. “I don’t really know what to make of it.”

Harry seemed to spring up from his spot in his bed, smacking his head on the top of the bunk in the process, prompting them both to dissolve into a puddle of giggles.

“Don’t get too excited for me,” she laughed. “I cannot be the reason that you hurt yourself and have to cancel a show.”

“I was just too excited to say ‘I told you so,’” he smirked, now rubbing the side of his head through his curls.

“Cocky bastard,” she sarcastically murmured under her breath while dramatically rolling her eyes.

She watched with confusion as Harry left his bed, and after a short and frantic search for his pajama pants so he wouldn’t “offend her eyes,” he moved towards the front of the bus. Her eyes trailed him as he bent down to the small mini fridge and pulled out two beers.

“We have to celebrate.”

It was 2 AM and she had been so ready for bed after a long day. But she knew she could never say no to him. She thanked god that they had a day off tomorrow.

After retrieving her massive and lovingly worn Grateful Dead sweatshirt to protect her from the chilly air, she nearly ran to the front of the bus. His painted pink fingers moved with skill as he popped the bottle caps off with one of his rings, handing it to her and gently nudging his bottle against hers.

“Cheers,” he murmured softly as he looked down at her with a kindhearted smile.

“Cheers,” she seemed to whisper back to him, a flutter in her stomach reminding her how badly she wanted to reach out and connect her lips to his. Instead she slid into the small booth across from him, taking a long sip from the bottle as she watched him do the same.

“I want you to know that I was really proud of you today,” he said as he put his beer down on the table. “Rude interviewers are never easy and you handled it like a champ.”

“Thank you, H,” she nodded, suddenly bashful and unable to make eye contact with him. Her cheeks burned hot as she put all her focus into tracing the rim of the bottle with her finger tip.

“Hey,” he called for her attention and her eyes snapped up to meet his. “I mean it, Y/N.”

“I know you do,” she gently nodded at him. “I’m just really happy they didn’t ask about my ex,” she chuckled as she took another sip. “That would have gone very poorly.”

“Oh yeah, I was a little annoyed they brought up my ex but not yours,” he teased. “Not fair if you ask me.”

“Well, then I’m glad no one asked you.”

“Can I ask you?”

“What?”

“About your ex.”

She should have been prepared to talk about it with Harry at some point. Half of this plan had been devised to get back at James anyway. She should be able to talk about it by now, especially with someone she had grown so close to.

“I guess so,” she shrugged, trying to seem casual like the mere mention of him didn’t still hurt her heart a little bit. “What do you want to know?”

“As much as you’re willing to tell me.”

He looked soft like this, eyes slightly sleepy with a tenderness in them as he looked back at her. His hair was unruly and puffy and he was wrapped in the powder blue blanket that lived on the tour bus’ couch. She would have told him anything that he ever wanted to hear if he kept looking like this.

With a deep breath, she began to recount everything that went down.

“I met James while I was still working as a waitress. I recognized him from his movies and started a conversation, and then–to my surprise–he asked me out on a date. I had been in LA for three weeks and this insanely famous actor is asking me to go out with him, so I obviously said yes.” She paused to take a swig of her beer, before mumbling under her breath, “I should have said ‘fuck no’ to that.”

A smile ghosted over her lips as she listened to Harry’s laugh across the table. She swore that laugh could cure cancer.

“But I didn’t,” she continued. “He introduced me to the right people and helped me make the right connections in the industry, which I guess made me feel indebted to him. Does that make sense?”

“Of course,” Harry nodded, eyebrows furrowed and listening intently.

“I should have broken up with him after I signed with Jeff and the label, however awful that sounds. But he just always knew the right things to say to make me feel special and like I was the most important person in the world. Even after I found out he was talking to other girls, he was somehow able to talk himself out of it.” She shook her head as she recalled it. “You wanna hear something fucked up?”

“Always,” he said with a gentle smirk.

“He proposed to me using lines from a romcom he was working on.”

Harry nearly spit out his drink. “Holy shit, you’re kidding!”

“I wish. I didn’t find out until I went with him to the premier a few months later and the proposal scene sounded surprisingly familiar.”

“What a dirtbag.”

“I know, right?” she laughed. “Then a few weeks after that, he got papped with his tongue down another girl’s throat. That finally knocked some sense into me and I ran for the hills.”

“Fuck,” he sighed as he finished his beer. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she breathed. “I don’t even feel hurt by him anymore, ya know? I just feel angry at myself for trusting him.”

“I understand but it’s not your fault he was a piece of shit,” he said as he rose from his seat and traveled to the mini fridge once again. “Another?” he asked, holding the bottle up about his head.

“Fuck it,” she shrugged. “Sure.”

She watched him skillfully pop off the tops again using just his rings, making a mental note to make him teach her how he did that, before he flopped back down in his seat.  

“At the risk of sounding like a Facebook mom, ‘you grow through what you go through,’” she chuckled, taking another long sip as she finished her first. He matched her high pitched giggle across the table and she nearly drooled beer down her front from smiling so wide.

“Amen, sister,” he agreed, raising his beer in the air.

“Oh, that was awful.” She shook her head as she descended into giggles. “Please never say that again.”

“Noted.”

“Anyway,” she began again after another sip of her drink, “I was well prepared to get my heartbroken by untrustworthy men after you, Styles.”

“I’m offended–tell me more,” he spoke quickly, his signature narcissistic smirk settling onto his features.

“I need you to know that Zayn leaving was my first real heartbreak.”

“Were the rest of us chopped liver?”

“You weren’t Zayn, I can tell you that.”

“Ouch!” He let out a loud belly laugh.

“Put yourself in my shoes for a minute, H. So first, the hottest-”

“Rude-”

“-I’m speaking. So the hottest one leaves, and then the rest of you are all like ‘we’ll be back in 18 months,’” she mocked him in a high pitched impersonation with a wave, “and then 6 months later you all mysteriously have solo careers.”

“I do not see you complaining about my solo career now, ya fame leetch.” He spoke with such humor and charisma, she couldn’t have even wished to be offended by his joke.

“Absolutely not, sir,” she said sternly, giving him a dramatic salute. “Deepest apologies from the fame leetch.” The two collapsed into giggles, laughing until their sides began to ache.

“Wait, I have a question for mega superstar Mr. Harry Styles of former One Direction fame,” she announced.

“I believe that’s me,” he bowed his head and raised his hand into the hair. “Shoot.”

She barely could get the question out, laughing too hard at her own joke. “Is Taylor Swift a good kisser?”

“Oh god,” he exasperatedly threw his hands in the air, chuckling while rolling his eyes dramatically before grinning wide as he thought over his answer. “I don’t kiss and tell,” he finally smirked.

“Wait, I have another!”

“Watch it, smart ass.”

“You think I’m smart?” she teased as she feigned flattery. “Have you ever heard of a song called ‘English Love Affair?’” He narrowed his eyes at her, a knowing smirk crossing his lips as he shook his head at her. “Also, when do I get to meet Gemma?”

“I’ll consider it when you stop bringing up her sex life, perv.”

“We’ve been dating for a few months now,” she teased as she continued to prod, emboldened by the liquid courage running through her veins as she was now half way through her next beer. “I think I should be allowed to meet the family soon. They seem delightful.”

“They would love how you have decided to rip into me like this,” he said with a cheeky smile, dimples on full display.

“Rockstars have to get knocked down a peg every once in a while.” She sarcastically shrugged. “Consider it a favor.”

She couldn’t help but think about how right this felt. Their back and forth flowed so smoothly, the banter falling from their lips without effort. Their laughter joined together in a delightful melody and she imagined they could go on this way all night.

Spending any amount of time with him made her so fucking happy; and time spent teasing each other over beers caused her to nearly explode with joy. How much she was enjoying herself was too hard to put into words.

He was safe and he was kind and he made her laugh no matter how bad his jokes were.

He was her best friend.

And for the first time, she was willing to admit that she was in love with him.

“Harry,” she hummed softly as their laughter died down to a comfortable silence. “Thank you for everything. You’ve changed my life forever and I can never repay you.”

“Just remember me when you get famous.”

“Oh shut up, I’m being serious,” she playfully scolded before letting her tone drop back into honesty. “You’re a very good person and I’m eternally grateful for you letting me be your opening act and then agreeing to this whole relationship charade.”

“I didn’t ‘let’ you be anything, Y/N. I picked you myself.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I listened to your album when it came out and fell in love with it,” he shrugged, his casual tone contradicting the surprised raise of her pulse. “When I found out Jeff also managed you, I knew I had to have you on the tour.”

Y/N was honestly stunned. She had always assumed that the tour was Jeff’s doing, a careful arrangement pairing Full Stop’s new up-and-comer with their most famous and established talent. Being offered the tour had been the biggest opportunity and honor she had ever been presented with; but she had never considered Harry himself being behind it.

“Oh,” was all she could manage to get out.

It was now his turn to be confused. “What’s so surprising about that?” he asked, reading the shock on her face like she was an open book.

“I just,” she stammered, trying to find the words in her slightly hazy state. “I never would have thought you knew who I was or listened to my music.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” she trailed off. “You’re you, and I’m just... me, I guess.”

He didn’t respond right away, just looking at her intently and slightly amused, sea glass eyes boring into her with a pink lip held between his teeth.

He scanned her frame, from the way her hair sat messily on top of her head and the way the massive sweatshirt swallowed her body enough to where she had pulled her knees up to her chest underneath it. Her shoulders were slumped slightly, making her appear smaller as she held her legs close to her torso and her eyebrows were knitted together in worry, slightly nervous under his intense gaze.

She downed the rest of her beer in an attempt to forget his intense attention. It didn’t work.

“You really don’t know how incredible you are, do you?” he finally asked, the corner of his lips twitching into a small smile.

She felt her whole body burn with his compliment, wanting to shrink into herself and disappear completely from his view. She finally shook her head slightly in an attempt to deflect his words, breathing his name under her breath as if to scold him for being too kind.

“You are,” he insisted, ignoring her objection. “You’re so talented and your music deserves all the attention that it gets. I am honored that I get to play a part in helping expose the world to you and what you have to offer.”

“Thank you.” Her words came out as a whisper.

“You’re welcome, love.”

His pet name made her stomach turn in a nervous excitement and a wide grin involuntarily came to her lips.

“I like it when I make you smile like that.” His words only made her beam further. “You look very pretty when you smile.”

“Stop it,” she said softly, cheeks burning hot and having a hard time making eye contact with him.

“Stop what?” He feigned innocence as he lightly teased her, smirk still prominent on his features.

“Are you flirting with me, Styles?”

“Just practicing.”

His words rang through her mind long after they had left the table and crawled back into their bunks for the night. She wished she could see inside his head to understand whatever thoughts were running around his brain.

But for now she could just peak at him through the gap she had purposely left in her curtain, wondering if she ever popped into his dreams as he slept.

He was always in hers.

***

There was a sadness mixed in with her usually thrilled mood as she took the stage for the last show of the tour. While there was an element of relief as she looked forward to some well needed rest, the adrenaline and joy of being in front of a crowd was something that she would miss dearly. She had grown into a real performer over the last two months as they zig-zagged across the US and this period of time would have a special place in her heart long after it had ended.

But there was another reason why she was so sad to see this chapter come to an end. As far as she knew, a staged breakup was not far away and the thought of being without Harry was heartbreaking. He had become her person and soon their feux falling out would be on the front page of every magazine. She wanted nothing more in the world than for their relationship to be real, but it would be forced to end before it had even truely started.

She got choked up as she sang her final song that night, letting a few tears escape as she took in the thousands of people singing her lyrics back to her, flashlights swaying in the air to the beat of the music. Taking a move from Harry’s own playbook, she took her mic and directed it to the crowd to sing as she cried. The vibrations of the drums and bass behind her nestled it’s way into her bones and the chorus of singing voices in the crowd surrounded her in a bittersweet melody.

The past two months she had been on top of the world, and as soon as this song finished, it was the beginning of the end.

She took her final bow, watching as the small tears fell forward onto the dusty stage below her. She waved and blew kisses to the crowd, then nearly ran off the stage looking for the only person she wanted to see.

Harry was right where he always was, just out of view behind the curtain, holding his arms out for her to fall into.

“Awe, babe,” he hummed sympathetically when she settled her head onto his chest, surely ruining his crisp white t-shirt with her now wet makeup. “It’s okay. Final shows are always tough.” He rubbed her back gently, in a soothing rhythm.

He smelled so good. He smelled like home.

She tilted her head up to connect her glassy eyes with his. “I just don’t want this all to end.” She knew she wasn’t just talking about the tour.

“Neither do I,” he said as his lips curved into a devilish smirk that sent her heart into palpitations. “That’s why I have one last surprise for you.”

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed while wiping the remaining tears off her cheeks. “What have you done?”

“You said you liked surprises!” he defended.

“Not surprises in front of 20,000 people!”

“I promise you’re going to love this one, okay?” His voice was softer now, encouraging and supportive. “You’re going to come out and sing an extra song with me during my set,” he revealed.

“Sing what?”

“That’s the surprise.”

“Do I even know the words?”

“You definitely know the words,” he chuckled.

“I just finished sobbing. I can’t go out there like this.”

“You can fix your makeup. I believe in you.”

“What am I going to wear?” she asked, grasping at straws at this point, doing anything she could to get out of this.

“I had Lambert put something together for you.”

“Of course you did.”

She peppered him with a few more questions, but he had a smooth and charming answer to every single one. He had thought every detail out, and as always, she couldn’t say no to him.

“Fine,” she finally exasperatedly agreed, immediately met with his excited and dimpled smile that she had fallen head over heels for.

“Perfect,” he breathed. “I have to go get ready and so do you. I already put everything you need in your dressing room, okay?” She nodded, still biting her lip anxiously. He held her by her shoulders, lowering his head to match their eye level as he leaned in close, before he spoke. “You’re going to have fun. I promise.”

“Pinky swear?���

“Pinky swear.”

Seconds after they locked their little fingers together, he pressed a quick and protective kiss to her forehead that set her whole body ablaze before running off in the direction of his dressing room. She remained stunned and frozen in her spot for a few moments trying to process what it felt like to have his lips on her for the first time since that very first day they had met.

There was no audience to perform it for or an act to keep up behind the curtain. He kissed her because he wanted to.

She was finally snapped out of her daze when a stagehand bumped into her by accident, prompting her to begin the short walk back to her dressing room. But the ghost of his lips remained on her forehead, an incessant tingle placed there by his touch.

The dress she found waiting for her was one of the most beautiful gowns she had ever set her eyes on. Made of a light purple chiffon, the wrap dress’ long sleeves and floor length skirt flowed freely. A belt cinched the wispy fabric close to her waist and a deep-v exposed her neck and chest. But the most dazzling part of the dress were the red sequined hearts that dotted the fabric and reflected the light of the dressing room like a million little mirrors.

Slipping into it, the light fabric was soft against her skin, opaque enough but still slightly sheer to let light through and show off her legs and the bright red shiny pumps Lambert had left for her. She felt the most beautiful she had ever felt in this dress, boosting her confidence and quelling her nerves about whatever the hell Harry was planning.

“One minute to curtain,” was announced in an ominous voice over the arena’s backstage speakers as she finished fixing her makeup and she all but ran to make it back to the stage in time. She only had one more chance to watch him perform and she refused to miss a second of it.

Harry dazzled as the lights focused in on him, his deep blue and fully sequined suit reflecting the light and turning him into a human disco ball. He stood close to the edge of the stage as the beginning notes of the first song began being played by the band, but he made no move towards his mic stand to sing. His eyes were closed and his arms were outstretched to the audience, taking in every scream, every tear, and the thunderous shake of the building; but also giving himself to them.

Then the show began. As usual, he was electric, but tonight was like he had turned himself up to eleven. Every note he sang was full of his heart and every dance move was done with his entire body, even his bad jokes seemed funnier tonight.

She was so mesmerized she almost forgot about his ‘surprise.’ Almost.

“Since tonight is unfortunately our last show,” he pouted. “I thought I would do something special,” he spoke to the crowd as they roared, but quickly connected his eyes with her’s in the wings. By the smirk plastered on his face, she knew she was in for it.

“I recently found out that someone very close to me was a very big fan of…” he trailed off as he dramatically pretended to search for the right words, “my previous work.” He finished with a smirk and his words prompted the loudest reaction since he had been on stage.

“Now, I told her that she would be coming on stage to join me tonight, but I didn’t exactly tell her what we would be singing and I haven’t performed this song in a very long time, so cut us some slack if we mess up. This is very unrehearsed.” He kept sneaking glances back to her, as her eyes grew wider at the stunt he was currently pulling. “But I know for a fact that she knows all the words. I listen to her sing them in the shower quite often.” He wore a cheeky dimpled grin as he looked back at her once again.

The building was shaking due to the suspense he was creating, and looking down at her hands, she realized she was to. She gripped hard onto the mic a stagehand had just shoved at her, pleading with her hands to stop their tremors.

“Now, I would love it if you could all give another warm welcome to one of my favorite people on the planet, Y/N Y/L/N!” He turned his body to her for a final time, extending his hand out for her to take. Her legs felt like jello as she walked out into the bright lights towards him, interlocking her fingers with his as a way to keep her on her feet.

The audience’s screams were deafening at seeing the two of them together and she thanked god she had her earpieces in to protect her ear drums or they would have surely burst. She could only imagine the articles that would be written about this and the thousands of tweets that were probably already being sent.

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” she mouthed at him threateningly, but she couldn’t even get through the sentence before his dazzling smile began to quell her anxiety.

“The look on your face is 100% worth getting my ass kicked,” he answered smoothly before turning his attention back to the audience. “Everyone, sing along if you know the words,” he commanded their attention. “This is Ready to Run.”

Her jaw dropped and the crowd roared as the band behind her began to play the first few chords of the song she loved and knew so well. She had admitted it a few days ago that it was one of her favorites of his ‘previous work,’ but apparently he already knew that from the few showers she had taken on the tour bus.

“There’s a lightning in your eyes I can’t deny,” he began by himself, her brain still too shocked to jump in yet. He sang the first few lines to her with a giant grin plastered on his face, hand still holding tight to hers. His eyes had a playful glint in them that seemed to say ‘just have fun.’

“There’s a devil in your smile, it’s chasing me,” she finally began to sing, Harry fading his voice out so she could take the next few lines by herself as he admired her.

He did have a devilish smile, but it was one she loved with her entire heart. As she began to sing, she felt her muscles begin to relax into the song she had sung to herself so many times before, letting her body begin to bounce to the growing rhythm as her dress flowed around her.

The stage vibrated as Sarah beat her drums to introduce the chorus. “This time I’m ready to run, escape from the city and follow the sun,” the pair sang together, eyes still locked as their voices combined into the most perfect tune. “Cause I wanna be yours, don’t you wanna be mine?” they continued the lyrics. She felt herself meaning the words leaving her mouth more and more as they went on. She did want to be his, she couldn’t deny that. “I don’t wanna get lost in the dark of the night.”

Her apprehensiveness eased further as the music picked up and the hook went on, finally allowing herself to have a bit of fun. “Wherever you are is the place I belong,” they insisted towards each other, leaning in close before Harry grabbed her hand to dramatically spin her, the beautiful shining fabric of her dress splaying out around her. The next line was mumbled through giggles by both of them, but their laughter only added to the perfect moment they were having.

They danced across the stage together like there weren’t 20,ooo pairs of eyes watching them, both singing their hearts out to each other. It began to feel like they weren’t even there. It was just Y/N and Harry, serenading each other to one of her favorite songs.

“There’s a future in my eyes I can’t foresee,” she sang to him to start the second verse.

“Unless, of course, I stay on course and keep you next to me.” Harry grabbed her by her waist and pulled her into his side as he sang the words, prompting more giggles from her. She loved the way he smiled so wide as he sang, never breaking his eye contact with her and emitting pure joy. His eyes looked honest as he sang, like he meant every word just as much as she did.

The pair made their way through the rest of the verse and second chorus, flawlessly moving around the stage like they owned it. Y/N selfishly decided to let him have the bridge all to himself, needing to hear the way his beautiful voice hit the high notes. “This time I’m ready to run,” he sang passionately, executing the downward moving riff perfectly. “I’d give everything that I got for your love,” he pointed across the stage towards her, beckoning her back close to him. She quickly skipped to him at his request.

Like she had blinked, the song was already nearing its end.

“Cause I wanna be free and I wanna be young, I’ll never look back now I’m ready to run,” they belted the last lines out to each other. The band fell quiet on their last chord and the crowd exploded, but their noise fell on deaf ears as the pair stood so close their heaving chests were almost pressed up against each other. His eyes stared down into hers and she watched as his eyes flickered quickly down to her lips.

The world ceased to exist when he pressed his mouth to hers, even if it only lasted a second. It was nothing more than a peck, but it was everything to her. Her body igniting with heat and eyes full of shock, she looked back at him in simultaneous confusion and adoration, before realizing they had been staring at each other for too long. She needed to get off the stage so he could continue with his show. She walked back slowly towards the wings, letting the hand he had still been holding fall to her side. She waved and smiled to the crowd the best she could in her clouded mind.

“Thank you everyone!” she shouted into her mic as she moved out of their view. She shoved her mic into the first set of hands that would take it as she wobbled her way over to a table with water bottles. She nearly choked as she tried to suck one down, hoping it would ease the dizzy feeling he had created with his lips. Her lips burned just as her forehead had earlier in the night.

He had kissed her. He had sang a love song with her and then he had kissed her. She couldn’t decipher if that kiss was a confirmation that he shared the same feelings for her or if it was just another act for the cameras. But his mouth felt so right against hers. They fit together like a pair of puzzle pieces. She tried to suppress the optimistic hope that rose in her chest, but it began to swallow her whole.

When she heard his next song begin, she made her way back to the spot that had become hers at the side of the stage. She watched him perform the rest of the show in a loving haze, doe eyed and hypnotized, lips still buzzing from his contact.

He gave it his all. By the last song he was out of breath, drenched in sweat, and looked like he was about to pass out at any second. The crowd applauded for minutes after he left the stage and they were still cheering when she finally caught sight of him again. His curls were stuck to his forehead and his skin was shiny and flushed. He was panting, still trying to recover from his workout of a finale show; but he was beaming. His smile seemed to turn him into a beacon, emitting a light and positive energy that drew everyone backstage towards him.

She was so transfixed on Harry as he thanked the crew and accepted congratulations from all around that she just about jumped out of her skin when Jeff slinked up behind her and whispered ‘boo’ in her ear.

“What the fuck, Jeff,” she chuckled as she caught her breath, resting her hand on her chest and feeling her racing heartbeat.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on being half of the best fake couple out there,” he teased. “That kiss was perfect. People are losing their minds over it.”

“Oh,” she said softly, feeling every emotion she was distracted from while watching Harry rush back into her. Her heart sank as she remembered all the questions that continued to haunt her since she got off stage. “Thanks,” she murmured, plastering a smile onto her face. “I’m glad we could make you proud.”

“If you two could convince me, you can convince anyone.” Jeff walked off moments later, leaving her to sit in her confused thoughts as he disappeared into the hoards of bodies waiting for their minute with Harry.

She knew that she didn’t ‘convince’ Jeff of anything on her part. Everything she did with Harry was authentic and truthful. Including the thrilled grin that appeared on her face when she finally made eye contact with the exhausted man across the room. She gave him a shy wave that he sheepishly returned, biting back a shy smile. He pointed in the direction of his dressing room and mouthed “meet me in 15.”

She could never say no to him.

Fifteen minutes later, she was knocking on the large wooden door that had a single piece of paper that read STYLES haphazardly taped onto it. When it finally flew open, she was met by a soaking wet Harry with a towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. Her eyes trailed down his body without permission, taking in the toned torso that was decorated with his beautiful tattoos. Her eyes hovered over the two ferns that sat on his pelvis, too fascinated with the dark ink to pull her eyes away just yet.

She had obviously seen him in various states of undress before. They lived together on a tour bus without much space to exist with privacy, but this was different. He wasn’t rushing to get dressed or quickly changing his outfit. And he wasn’t moving away from her gaze at all.

If she hadn’t been so entranced by him, she would have noticed he was looking her up and down in the exact same manner.

She had changed since she had seen him last. The skin-tight black velvet romper she had brought along for the afterparty now fit her snuggly and held her every curve. The dark fabric was tight and appeared almost painted on, a rainbow racing stripe making its way down either side of her chest. The short shorts of the outfit exposed nearly all of her legs and the deep neckline put much of her chest on display as well. It’s long sleeves were her favorite part, as a strip of fringe dangled from below her arms any time she moved.

“You look great,” Harry finally choked out, his voice pulling their eyes back up to the other’s face.

“Oh, thanks,” she said, slightly awkwardly. “You too.”

“Well, I’m hopefully not going to the after party dressed like this,” he chuckled before stepping aside and ushering her into the room.

His dressing room was much larger than hers and she settled herself on the brown leather couch in the corner as she waited for him to get ready, sneaking glances up from her phone often. She chuckled as she watched him spend far too long fussing with his curls in the mirror, but was quickly distracted by the way his back and arms flexed when he reached up to muse his hair. Once he was satisfied with the way it fell, he disappeared into the bathroom at the back of the room. When he emerged, he was finally dressed, allowing her to take a deep breath and to focus on something other than his bare skin for the first time since he had opened the door.

The black satin suit was simple for him, but the tight white tank top that sat underneath hugged every muscle in his torso. She knew as soon as he got in the hot club, he would lose the jacket, and she would be devastatingly distracted once again.

The narcissist took one final look at himself in the mirror before turning to her and extending a hand. “Ready, darling?”

“You just spent 15 minutes exclusively on your hair and you’re asking me if I’m ready?” she teased as she took his hand, weaving her fingers between his as they exited the room together.

He leaned down close to her ear as they walked down the now mostly empty hallway, lips brushing over the hollow of her ear as he spoke. “I could have done it faster, but you were so obviously enjoying the show.”

“Relax yourself, Magic Mike,” she muttered indignantly, but hung her head in a way she hoped he couldn’t see how flustered he made her. Was she really that obvious?

They walked hand in hand out to the parking garage, now caught in a back and forth about whether or not Harry could be a male stripper. He said yes. She said no, although she did admit at one point that he worked his mic stand like a pole.

“Hey Jeff,” he called when they finally reached the parking garage where Jeff and Glenne had been waiting for them to head to the club. “Do you think I could be a stripper?”

“I think people would pay a lot to see it, but they may be disappointed in your dancing skills.”

“Come on,” he playfully whined. “I have some moves.”

“You have one move,” Y/N cut in with a chuckle, “and it’s the wiggle.” She brought her hands up near her chest, tilted her head back while dramatically biting her lip, and swayed her arms by her sides, earning a chorus of laughter from the people around her.

She hadn’t even realized she had done the move without releasing Harry’s hand first, dragging his arm into her dance as well, until their manager commented on it. “You know, you two don’t have to be holding hands all the time and keeping the show up back here,” he said with a slightly suspicious quirk in his eyebrows.

Her smile had been in the process of fading, like they had been caught doing something wrong, before Harry answered smoothly. “We know. Just practicing.”

There were those words again. Just practicing, she thought over to herself. But was he practicing anymore? How many flirty comments, heartfelt compliments, and warm touches did it take to cross the line of practicing to the real thing?

She wasn’t sure about Harry, but she knew that she wasn’t just practicing anymore.

She knew that the way they sat nearly on top of each other in the large SUV on the way to the club felt more than friendly. And the way he hadn’t stopped touching her in some way since they left his dressing room insinuated far more than something with business-like intentions. And the way he looked at her everytime he caught her eye the entire way to the club, always with a bright smile and adoring gaze that she always returned, pulled at her heartstrings far more than they should have if this was all an act.

A sloppy and cheeky grin settled almost permanently on his features after he had a few drinks in him, his arms moving in a lazy and fluid manner as she took in his many tattoos that he had exposed when he ditched his jacket (just like she knew he would). His butterfly was visible through the tight ribbed fabric of the white tank top and the little birds that peaked out from underneath seemed to be inviting her even closer to him in her now inebriated state.

All she wanted to do was to connect her lips with his as she watched him make conversation with someone from his management, entranced by the way his perfect mouth moved as he spoke. She once again craved the shocks of electricity that were created between them at the contact and could not stop thinking about it no matter how hard she tried. The protective hand that had settled onto her hip and continued to hold her close to his body just wasn’t enough anymore.

The pair had been drinking far too much; martinis turning into vodka sodas that had turned into straight tequila shots. She believed it was tequila shot four that did her in. The last thing she remembered was licking the line of salt off the back of her hand, downing the shot, and being entranced by Harry’s eyes as she bit down on the slice of lime he held carefully with his jeweled fingers.  

***

The next morning, Y/N woke up in a hotel room that she didn’t recognize with a pounding headache and a swirling gut. It felt like she had been hit with a truck and she could barely pick her head up off the pillow.

She had so many questions about what had happened the night before. Where was she? Who let her drink that much? Whose clothes was she wearing? But most of all, what the hell happened after that fourth shot?

But she realized the worst was yet to come when she heard soft snoring coming from beside her. She knew that snoring well. It was the snoring that kept her up half the night for the last two months and the one that had almost driven her to suffocating her bus-mate in his sleep; the snoring that matched the crumbled black suit she just noticed in a ball on the floor.

It took every ounce of strength in her body to pull herself from the pillow and turn around in the bed to have her suspicions confirmed.

There he was.

His dark long eyelashes were fluttered down across the tops of his cheeks and his hair was going in every direction, skin clammy like his body was trying to rid itself of all the poison he had ingested the night before. The crumpled comforter was pushed down his stomach, his bare skin holding a sheen that helped define every dip or curve of his muscles and the tiniest bit of the band of his boxers peaked out to assure her that he at least wasn’t fully naked next to her.

Why were they in bed together? And why did he look so good? Oh my god, she thought as a possibility dawned on her. Did we sleep together?

“Harry,” she murmured softer than she intended, voice scratchy and mouth dry. The soreness at the back of her throat clued her into the copious amounts of screaming she must have done last night. He didn’t stir at her gentle coaxing, the light streaming through the windows making him look angelic as it covered him in a blanket of soft light while he continued to sleep.

It was a hard nudge to his chest that finally made him open his eyes, immediately releasing a groan she was sure she made when she regained consciousness too. He looked at her puzzled, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he propped himself up on his elbows. He took an equally confused look around the hotel room before looking back at her. She watched as the gears slowly turned in his head until his eyes opened wide and he spring up into a sitting position to mirror hers.

“We didn’t,” he whispered hopefully. “Oh my god, did we?” he asked, a look of horror crossing his face that matched her own.

“I have no idea,” she anxiously replied. “I was hoping you would know!”

“You don’t remember anything?”

“The last thing I remember was doing tequila shots with you.”

“I remember those.” He rubbed his eyes hard like it would somehow jog his memory. His eyebrows knit together, buried in thought as he searched his brain for a timeline. “I can follow the night up until we did karaoke.”

“We did karaoke?” she repeated incredulously and was met with a somber nod. “Do I even want to know what we sang?”

He shook his head slowly, shame clear on his face, before he finally mumbled. “We did ‘It’s Raining Men.’”

“Oh my god, no,” she whined, holding her head in her hands and rubbing her temples. There were surely videos of them sloppily singing on top of a bar circulating online and she wasn’t sure how Jeff would be able to spin that one in a positive light.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eye as he reached for his own. “Maybe there’s something on there that can clue us in.” It took her a moment but she finally spotted it on the ground in the corner of the room. She said a silent prayer that it wasn’t dead or broken.

Forcing her heavy limbs out from under the covers she made her way towards the device, but not before she heard a confused sound coming from Harry. “How did you get my clothes?”

Looking down at herself and taking in the red lettering that read But Daddy I Love Him across her chest, it clicked that the t-shirt and baggy basketball shorts were his. But how they hell did she get into them?

“I think we’ve established at this point that I don’t know anything that happened after about midnight, Harry.” Her words came out laced with slight frustration. She hoped he knew she wasn’t annoyed with him, just their situation.

“Just a question, princess.”

She ignored his quip and began to search through her texts, call history, and photos, hoping to find anything at all that could help trace their steps through the night. She found nothing but a few selfies of them still at the club. One was the pair casually smiling, the next was one of him kissing her on the cheek that made her skin warm, but the final one made her snort out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I have a picture on my phone of you with two martini olives shoved up your nose,” she spoke through hysterical laughter. “Definitely birthday post material if you ask me.”

“Let me see,” he demanded with an adorable scowl.

She passed her phone over to him, still letting a few chuckles fall past her lips. “I’m gonna change your name in my phone to ‘Olive Nose Styles.”

“You're cruel.”

“You’re the one that put olives up his nose and then posed for a picture!”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, turning attention back to his own screen to continue his investigation. “There’s nothing of use on my phone either.”

The two flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the frustrated confusion. There was so much of their night that had gone up into smoke, completely unaccounted for with no clues as to what they did. Each traced their steps over and over again in their heads as they hoped desperately for a single detail that would lead them down a path to bigger memories, but it never came.

“Are we going to have to call Jeff and ask him what happened?” she finally murmured.

“I think so.”

“He’s going to put us both in client timeout, isn’t he?”

“We’re probably already there,” he groaned as he picked up his phone and hit Jefe Jeff-e in his contact list, putting the call on speaker and resting it on his still bare chest. The man on the other end picked up almost immediately.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty, I was wondering when I was going to hear from you.”

“Hi Jeff,” he groggily started then stopped, searching for the words that would make this all less uncomfortable. “Y/N and I have some questions about last night.”

Jeff let out a strained chuckle. “Yeah, that doesn’t really surprise me after last night’s bar bill.”

“Um,” Harry hummed, stammering but unable to form any real words.

“You sing about sex for a living,” she hissed at the man next to her before yanking the phone off his chest. “Jeff,” she started, taking over the conversation for them both. “Do you know if we slept together?”

“Probably not. You both were pretty unconscious when I put you in the hotel room.” His words prompted a massive sigh from both of them, looking to each other to share a relieved smile.

“Oh thank god,” they mumbled in unison.

“Jinx,” he smirked under his breath, prompting a ‘shut up’ from her.

“How did I get into Harry’s clothes?”

“I stopped by the tour bus when I realized you two probably shouldn’t be trusted not to roll out of your top bunks. I got you some clothes to sleep in before we took you guys to the hotel.”

“But why Harry’s?”

It was Jeff’s term to get squirmy. “I felt weird going through your things.”

“But you were perfectly fine with going through mine?” Harry asked, only half joking.

“Absolutely,” he deadpanned. They were all quiet for a moment before Jeff began again. “You two really don’t remember anything else that happened?”

“Everything after about two is unaccounted for,” she confessed.

“Oh,” Jeff chuckled. “So, you don’t remember when you stuck your tongues down each other’s throats on the ride home?”

Fuck.

Her eyes raced up to Harry’s from the phone she had been staring at like it held all the secrets of the night before. His easily readable features displayed all his emotions that surely matched hers. His pupils had grown in surprise, taking over nearly all the green in his wide eyes, and an embarrassed blush tinted his cheeks in a red hot flush that had reached the tips of his ears. His eyes flashed to the blank wall in front of them, running a stressed hand through his curls, like if he wasn’t looking at her, he would be able to focus better on the newly revealed information.

She couldn’t say that she didn’t relate. Her mind often went blank when she looked at him too. But right now, it was racing, occupied by anxious thoughts and intense emotions she couldn’t quite place, but felt with her entire being.

Her inevitable downward spiral was interrupted when Harry stiffly cleared his throat. “Uh,” he started, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “We’ll see you later.”

“Sounds good, love birds,” Jeff replied, a clear snark apparent in his voice. Neither of the pair dignified his teasing with a response, Y/N quickly ending the call.

Silence hung heavy in the air and she let her eyes hover over the phone for too long when she settled it down on the bed, unwilling to connect her eyes with his just yet. Harry always had a way of staring into her and revealing all her cards to him before she even knew them herself. She wanted to hold them close to her chest for a moment, protecting the heart that longed for him more than anything else in the world.

There were no words exchanged between the two for a while as they silently took turns in the bathroom and occupied their hands and thoughts by their phones. They walked on eggshells anytime one neared the other. A tension like this hadn’t existed since the very first day they met, the first day they had begun to pretend.

Maybe that's why Harry was being so quiet. Maybe he never wanted to cross that line of pretending like she did. Maybe she had been blinded by his generally friendly personality and tricked herself into thinking there was anything more than a charade between them. Maybe last night really was just a drunken mistake, no matter how much she wanted it to be more.

“Maybe it’s a good thing that we don’t remember what happened last night,” she finally murmured from the opposite end of the room. She rested the side of her still heavy head and muscles against the wall, arms crossed in front of her as if they could keep her safe from the tension they had created. Her fingers nervously played with the hem of his t-shirt she was still dressed in.

“Why is it a good thing?” he almost immediately responded from the chair on the other side of the room he had settled himself into, running his hands along the satin pants of last night’s outfit he had put back on during their awkward shuffling around the room. He had even put physical space between them since they found out what happened, causing her heart to feel as if it was teetering on the edge of disintegrating.

“Well,” she stuttered, refusing to look at him and continuing to pick at her nail polish. “We’re just pretending so it would be weird if we really remembered it.”

“I don’t think it would be weird.”

“I don’t know,” she tried to maneuver her way around his response. “It might just be embarrassing to think about it.”

He let out a long and frustrated sigh, running his hands down his face. There was so much going on behind his eyes and she wished he would say something, anything, to break down the wall that hadn’t existed between them in months that was slowly reappearing.

“Do you regret it?” he asked bluntly, the abrupt question shocking her body to attention. “Do you regret any of this? Any of us?”

Did she regret drinking too much? Yes. Did she regret making out with him in front of their manager? Yes. Did she regret denying her feelings and pretending they didn’t exist for so long? Of course. But, did she regret falling in love with him? Never, not even for a second.

“No, I don’t,” she let out with a gentle shake of her head, no louder than a whisper.

“Neither do I.”

The words had barely left his lips before he crossed the room and crashed them into hers. The same fire she had felt on stage returned ten times over as his lips moved smoothly over hers, every neuron in her body lighting up like a switchboard. Her fingers reached up to curl into his hair and pull his lips impossibly closer to hers as her heart hammered in her chest with a passionate love she had kept under wraps for so long.

He tasted like the spicy peppermint toothpaste the hotel stocked in the bathroom and smelled like the tiny bottles of shampoo that rested on the side of the bathtub; but there was so much else about him that was completely unique–wholly irreplaceable and indescribable. He was just Harry.

Teeth clashed, lips were bitten, and hair was pulled as they took in every sensation the other created. His lips had been the only thought that captivated her mind since they were on stage the night before and her return to them did not disappoint. If her head wasn’t dizzy and her lungs not screaming at her for air, she would have stayed in that moment forever

When they finally disconnected, they stood against each other in a heaving and disheveled mess of heavy breathing and adoringly dazed smiles. She swore she could feel the pounding of his heart under her fingertips that rested on his chest.

“That was nice,” he eventually murmured down at her through heavy breaths, a love drunk grin finding its way onto his swollen lips.

“Yeah, I agree,” she hummed breathlessly, her anxious thoughts quiet and calm for the first time she could remember since she met him.

“I’m kind of disappointed I don’t remember doing that the first time,” he chuckled softly at her, shaking his head lightly in embarrassment with his pink tinged cheeks on full display.

“That’s okay. We were ‘just practicing’ then, right?” A giggle left her lips as she used the words against him. The same words he had used every time they let a glimpse of their true affections for each other slip past their guarded and friendly facade.

His dimples were exposed when he smiled a giant grin and let out a knowing huff, piecing together that she had caught onto his trail of excuses. “Yeah, just practicing,” he repeated softly, before his tone turned sincere and genuine. “I don’t want us to pretend anymore.”

“Good,” she said softly as her fingers slid up his neck to beckon his lips back down to hers. “I never was.”

“Neither was I.” She watched a soft smirk appear on his lips as they hovered over hers. “Do you want to keep not practicing?”

“Depends,” she quipped, lips brushing over his as she spoke. “Am I better kisser than Taylor Swift?

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK MEAN THE WORLD!!! 

An extra for our babies can be found here!

[moonlit-reveriee]

NSFW Alphabet

ft. technoblade

concept: a collection of my own personal nsfw headcanons for techno, one for each letter of the alphabet

@saturnsstufff ‘s discord saw it first ;)

A = Aftercare 

I like the idea that techno actually gets very clingy after sex. He’ll get up and grab a glass of water or a towel if either of you need it, but if he’s able to, he’ll stay glued to your side the whole time. Even if he won’t admit it, he needs to have that intimacy after sex. He loves the feeling of your body pressed against his as you both cool down. Usually, his hands will be absentmindedly drawing patterns over your skin

B = Body part 

Kind of an oddly specific one, but he loves your shoulders. He loves to casually rest his chin on them as he holds you from behind, and bury his face in the crook of your neck as he presses heated kisses on your pulse point. He also considers the way a person carries their shoulders to be an indication of their strength, and how could he see anything but strength in you.

He hadn’t put much thought into his own body before meeting you. He’s learned to love parts of himself because of you. Particularly his scars. They way you gently run your fingers across the rough surface of them, in both intimate and casual settings, made him crave the touch. Now when he looks at them, he thinks of your hands moving across his skin

C = Cum 

Fun fact: pigs have 30 minute orgasms

Early on in your sexual relationship, he was very embarrassed by just how much of it there always was. But once you started praising him for it, that became a very different story. He started to take pride in how well he could completely fill you up without even trying

D = Dirty Secret 

He would probably never admit it to you, but it’s become a habit of his to think about the last time he had sex with you during battles. He starts to make sure you two always have sex the night before a big fight, so his mind can wander back to it during the haze of battle. He’s not sure if it’s a coping mechanism or what but it certainly helps

E = Experience 

You are his first ever sexual partner, but somehow he just.... already knows what he’s doing?? He’s very nervous and considerate the first time, but he does everything perfectly. Once you tell him that, he’s very happy and secretly a bit proud of himself

F = Favourite Position 

He loooves to have you in his lap. Either facing him, back to chest, it doesn’t matter. He’ll do everything with you in his lap. Cockwarming, fingering, thigh riding, anything you and him are physically able to do in that position

G = Goofy 

He’s usually a bit more on the serious side. Sometimes the two of you will quip at each other during foreplay, but once he gets going, it’s all business. In the moment, he likes to treat is as something special (doesn’t mean he won’t tease you about things after the fact)

H = Hair 

He likes to keep himself clean-shaven most of the time. When he’s relaxed and doesn’t have to go to any public events for a long period of time, he’ll let a small amount of stubble grow on his chin. You can always tell when he slacks off on it, cause the stubble on his face brushes roughly against your skin as he kisses down your body...

he doesn’t really shave much below the neck, but he keeps it clean and trims occasionally

I = Intimacy 

He’s surprisingly romantic when he wants to be. It’s definitely a side of him only you’re allowed to see. Alone together in his bed, he’ll whisper sweet nothings to you as he slowly draws you to your climax. Even when he’s speaking the most lewd and naughty things to you, he somehow makes them sound affectionate and full of love

J = Jack Off 

He loves to watch you masturbate. The first time was a complete accident. He came home late one night to find you curled up with his blankets, breathing heavily as you massaged yourself over your underwear. It wasn’t long before you noticed him in the doorway and jumped, worthlessly attempting to hide what you were doing. He wasn’t sure if it was the blush on your face or the fact that the blanket you chose to cover yourself in was his cape but something urged him to sit on the edge of the bed, still in his armor, and ask you to continue. It was beautiful to simply sit there and watch

K = Kink 

He’s a little bit possessive. He loves to mark you in subtle ways so you always remember that you’re his. Especially if you’re going on a trip without him. He’ll drape you in gold jewelry and leave a hickey just out of sight on your neck for good measure. The part that he loves the most about it though, is that you know exactly what he’s doing and show off his signs of possession with pride

L = Location 

He prefers to keep most of your sexual acts to the area in and around his cottage. Other than in bed, he loves to press you up against a wall. Sometimes you two get distracted while tending to the farms and end up heatedly making out in the snow. One time, you decide you wanted to lay out some blankets on the floor and do it right in front of the fireplace. He adored the way the firelight danced across your skin. (He’s thought about taking you down to the syndicate room and laying you out across the table. But he came to the unfortunate conclusion that during meetings, he’d never be able to look anyone straight in the eyes ever again. So he’s shelved that idea for the time being. Maybe once the group has disbanded...)

M = Motivation

He loves to be praised by you. During regular day-to-day life, he doesn’t like to accept any compliments from you, usually just brushing them off or responding with a joke. But when you two are alone together and intimate, he drinks that shit up. How can he not believe it when you look up and him with lidded eyes and tell him just how good he makes you feel. Just moaning against his lips as he kisses you is enough to keep him going for a while

N = NO 

He will never do anything that involves seeing your own blood. It sets off the voices too much. One day, you randomly got a nosebleed while cooking dinner together. He could smell it before he even saw it. When the voices recognized the deep red color dripping down your face, they wouldn’t stop chanting. He tried to help you clean up, but it became too much to ignore. He had to go out back and slaughter at least a dozen zombies before they shut up. And even then, he was left with a pounding headache. You were extra gentle and sweet with him when you cuddled up in bed together that night

O = Oral 

If you’re on the receiving end, be prepared for him to be down there a looooong time. Once he gets his mouth on you, it’s hard for him to pull away. He loves your smell and taste too much. He tries not to get too carried away, but there was one time he made you come 5 times in a row with just his mouth. He was very thorough with his aftercare that night.

He isn’t the one receiving very often. He only really likes it when he’s tired. He loves to sit back in a chair and watch you gently suck him of on your knees in front of him, one hand gently weaving it’s way through your hair

P = Pace 

I always imagine him on the slower side. He likes to savor every moment, making sure that every thrust or movement of his hand is intentional and perfectly placed. He takes time to watch you carefully to make sure you’re getting exactly what you need. He’ll go harder before he goes faster

Q = Quickie 

As much as he loves to treasure your intimate time together, there are times where he just needs it. Every once and awhile, he’ll be desperate for it and quickly have you against the wall before heading out to run some errands. Sometimes he’ll pull you in, make you cum, and head out the door without saying a single word. He usually feels the need to make up for it when he returns, but you’ve assured him many times that you love sex with him at any pace

R = Risk 

Since he’s still fairly inexperienced despite his skills, he’s not super adventurous himself. More often than not, you’re the one bringing new ideas to the relationship. He’s willing to try the new things you suggest. You’ve had a discussion about your limits, and you both understand what goes too far for each other

S = Stamina 

He can go multiple times in a row if he wants to, and for a long time. He lowkey loves it when you tire out before him, and you let him keep going while you lie there sleepily in his arms

T = Toy 

He doesn’t own any sex toys, but he likes to make sex toys out of everyday objects (as long as they’re safe and properly cleaned of course). He likes the idea of never being able to look at that object the same way again, especially if it’s something either of you use around the house frequently. He would get his hands on some actual toys if you wanted him to. If toys are involved, he prefers them to be used on you, not on him

U = Unfair 

He likes to randomly tease you during moments that are absolutely not sexual. Maybe you’re brushing out his hair, complaining about the knots in it. He’ll suddenly respond with “that’s not what you told me in the bedroom last night” leaving you to sit there in shock while he laughs. Or he’ll quote things you said to him during sex completely deadpan and watch as the blush rises to your cheeks

V = Volume 

He’s not extremely loud. When he is loud though, he growls. You’ll be able to feels his chest vibrating when you lean into him. Sometimes you can even feel the vibrations through his lips as he pleasures you with his mouth, which is an absolutely crazy and wonderful feeling.

During very domestic moments, he likes to talk a lot during sex. If he comes home from working all day, and he’s missing you greatly, he loves to tell you all about his day while his cock gently rocks inside of you

W = Wild Card 

This part is definitely just gonna be me fulfilling one of my personal kinks, but I love the idea of techno going through a heat since he’s part piglin. Maybe it only happens like once a year, but when it’s that time, his senses are kicked into high gear and he’s desperate for you. The two of you have a routine for it by now. You prepare the bedroom by gathering every blanket in the house, and prepping a week’s worth of food & water that can be eaten quickly during the moments when techno’s haze of arousal drops. Once he feels it start to set in, he locks the bedroom door and allows his senses to become completely enveloped by you

X = X-Ray 

I like to believe that a lot of the hybrid races are PACKING. It’s one of the many things he’s nervous about on your first time, but seeing the way your able to take him so well every time is such a turn on

Y = Yearning 

Both you and him can be too tired to have sex at times, but if he’s able to have you, he’ll take everything he can get. He loves to take care of you if you’ve had a long day, and he knows you’ll do the same for him

Z = ZZZ 

If it’s nighttime sex, he can pass out as soon as aftercare is over. But if it’s morning or midday, he can have sex and go about the rest of his day no problem. Since his orgasms are so long, he likes to make you cum more often than he does, and watching you cum invigorates him

[darling-i-read-it]

Lipstick

Karl Heisenberg x reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: borderline nsfw like I thought real hard about it, weapons, talks of murder, slight spoilers for resident evil 8

Author’s Note: just impulsively wrote this and am posting it promptly after writing so it has not been edited. Besties im down bad about this sarcastic basterd (also if anyone wants a nsfw part 2...i am willing to provide) (or any other requests for him and Alcina, my favorite bi panic people rn)

Summary: You run into Ethan in Castle Dimitrescu on your way back to the factory.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

(not my gif)

Ethan Winters genuinely just wanted his daughter back. He was so sick and tired of going through this village in an attempt to save her, running into every possible inconvenience he could find and knowing that he would probably lose fingers fighting them.

Castle Dimitrescu was vast and regal. He might have liked it if he wasn’t running for his and his daughters' lives from the four vampires that lived there.

He was crouched down, holding a gun up as he walked very quietly and carefully throughout the house so as to not alert any of the Dimitrescu daughters. He opened one of the unlocked doors carefully and immediately stopped moving at the sight of someone.

You wore no cloak, to signify that you were a daughter and you were much shorter than the lady of the house. You grabbed one of the lipsticks that Alicna had plenty of and leaned over the vanity to see how it looked on you.

Ethan stood up and held the gun up to your head. You raised an eyebrow, looking at him from the mirror reflection.

“Who are you?” he asked, voice rough. Rougher than his face looked. You put on the lipstick and then rubbed your lips together.

“Do you think this is my color?” He shoved the gun further into your head and you scoffed. “Fine fine. Not one for makeup eh?” You put your hands up and turned around. He let you sit down on the vanity but not without his gun still pointing at your skull. You seemed unphased which would have been weird if Ethan wasn’t incredibly desensitized to everything ever.

“Who are you? Are you one of the vampires? One of the other family members? Who are you?!” You put your hands slowly down on your lap. He let you, but you were testing his patience.

“Not quite.” You gestured to him. “I’m human. Like you. Well not like you, I’m completely human, no mutations or anything done.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he hissed. You waved him off.

“If you hurt me, you will have Karl on your head and I imagine it won’t be pretty. It’s the only way I can get from Castle to Castle unharmed,” you told him.

“Karl?”

“You know, fun hat, frizzy hair, has that big hammer thing. Karl.”

“Heisenberg?” You nodded.

“Yes Ethan, I thought you were smarter than this.” Ethan shook his head quickly and then regained focus, his hand holding the gun shaking a bit.

“Where’s Rose?” You shrugged.

“Fuck if I know Ethan Winters. I’m just the person who lives in a factory and becomes a nuisance for each and every Lord.” He jabbed the gun at your head and you didn’t even flinch.

“You’re lying.”

“Truthfully, I am not. If I knew where Rose was I would at least give you a hint, just to make it interesting.”

“What is Heisenberg to you?” he asked. You smiled a bit, crossing your legs.

“I’m Heisenberg's...girlfriend for lack of a better word. Whatever Mia was to you.” His mind flashed back to Mia. He had barely been able to mourn her. He shook the thought out of his head.

“You know how to get out of here and get Rose yes?”

“I know how to get out of here. How to get Rose, I have no idea. We’ve been over this.”

“But Heisenberg knows and if I can bring you to him, he can tell me.” You shook your head gently.

“Ethan sweetie...I could call for Alcina or the girls at any time and they would be in here in seconds to tear you to pieces.”

“Not before I could pull this trigger.”

“Again, if you so much as scratch me, you’ll never breath non metal infused air again.” Ethan shook his head gently and took a deep breath. He grabbed the gun at you again. He was silent and then he lowered it.

“I’ll just be going then,” he muttered, defeated. You nodded pleasantly and stood up from sitting on the vanity. You put the lipstick back on it. You walked forward and put your hand on Ethan’s shoulder. He looked you in the eyes.

“Good luck Ethan Winters.” You started to leave but turned to him. “I do suggest that in order to save your daughter you don’t kill Alicna’s in the process.”

“Any bits of advice then?” You put your hand on the doorknob and turned it, opening it just a tad.

“Grab the masks for the main room. Do you have a map?” He handed it to you, a tattered old piece of paper. You grabbed the lipstick again and marked some places. “Avoid hurting them as much as you can.”

“Why are you helping me?”

“I don’t like Mother Miranda. I don’t trust Mother Miranda. She is the one who has your daughter I’m sure or she must know where she is. But the Dimitrescus and Karl...even Donna for that matter, are people I like and trust.”

You stepped back outside the room.

“If I hear you’ve killed any of the daughters, I’ll tell them what I know of you. If you think the Dimitrescus are scary, just wait until you meet Donna.”

You shut the door in his face. Ethan shivered.

====

You walked up the stairs to the second floor. You knocked on the door of Alcinas room and she swang it open. She took a sigh of relief.

“Thank God. I thought you were Ethan Winters.”

“You think Ethan would knock before coming in?” She scoffed. You held her the lipstick you were wearing.

“Where did you find that?”

“Downstairs where I ran into Ethan,” you said honestly. Her eyes went wide and her lips pursed in annoyance.

“Did you see the girls?”

“No but I’m sure one of them ran into him as he left the room. He was only there a couple of minutes ago, it shouldn't be that hard to find him.” She walked past you without saying goodbye. You huffed. “You’re welcome!”

=====

You made it back to the factory in just a couple of minutes. You had gotten so used to the walk that you were on autopilot the whole time before you were back to your room. Karl was already there, clearly taking a quick break before returning to his never ending work day.

“Where did you go?!” he asked, walking up to you from the bathroom. He put his hand on your arm and you grabbed his glasses which were hanging from his shirt. He had shed the jacket and hat, clearly about to shower.

“Relax, I was just at Alcinas castle,” you told him gently. He let out an annoyed exaggerated sigh that you knew all too well.

“How is my sister?” he asked. You took the lipstick out of your pocket. Alcina hadn’t actually taken it in her fit of rage to go and get Ethan. Now you had something extra for your own personal vanity back at the factory.

“Shy of one more lipstick.” You walked past him into the bathroom. He followed you as you placed it carefully on your vanity. You admired it for a second with a smile on your face. You wrapped an arm around yourself and turned back to him. You hoisted yourself onto the bathroom counter. “I ran into Ethan Winters.”

His face, which had been admiring your new addition to the vanity which was full of stolen things and things he had acquired for you, turned sour. Karl put his hand on your arm and raised it, checking your side and arm for injuries.

“I told you not to leave the room until he was caught,” he grumbled. He was trying to act like he hadn’t been worried about you from the second he realized you were gone. He was trying to ignore the fact that he himself almost stomped to each of the Lord’s castles to make sure you were alright. He didn’t want you to run into Ethan Winters, that was his worst nightmare. Ethan didn’t have any regard for you. Ethan just wanted Rose. “Are you hurt?” You shook your head.

“No. He asked me if I knew where Rose was and held a gun to my head but in the end we parted ways peacefully.”

“You could have brought him back here,” he muttered.

“I told Alcina where he was. I figured she could take care of him. You already had your shot.” He rolled his eyes and his grip on your arm tightened.

“You could have been seriously hurt. The Lord’s won’t hurt you but Mother Miranda might, Ethan might have.” You brought your free hand up to his cheek and leaned forward so your lips were just barely brushing over his.

“I can take care of myself.” He pressed a harsh kiss against your lips and made a low groaning noise. He let go of your arm to grab your leg and part them so that he could stand between your thighs. He dipped his head to kiss you and you pressed your body against him, feeling every inch of his breathing.

There was a harsh rasp at the door and he pulled away. You grabbed his neck and shook his head, kissing his jaw and peppering kisses down his neck.

“Come on, Mother Miranda doesn’t need you that bad,” you whispered. You pressed a long kiss to his jaw again and he had to physically tear himself away, however much it pained him.

“She might,” he grumbled. You held him until he moved too far away for you to. You groaned and put your head against the wall beside the mirror.

“Maybe I should go and find Ethan Winters again to finish the job. I mean he may only have eight fingers but he’s stayed alive this long and-” He grabbed your arm that was waving around as you spoke and looked you dead in the eyes.

“I will finish the job. You just sit tight kitten.” You kissed his knuckles and then let him go.

“Better be quick Karl. I get very restless very easily.”

He put on his hat and coat (the opposite of either of you wanted in the moment) and slammed the door in frustration against Mother Miranda behind him.

You took a deep breath and hoped he wouldn’t be gone too long.

NSFW Part 2

[griffintail]

Can I get Wilbur, Philza, Technoblade, and Awesamdude (separately) dealing with a giggly, happily drunk reader, who is very nice to everyone but immediately goes into “I love youuuu, let me stay with you foreverrrrrrrr” cuddly lovesick puppy mode and proceeds to latch onto them for the rest of the night.

I hope you enjoy this! ♥

In Game and Female Reader

Warnings: Implied underage drinking(?)

A/N: I wanted to do like ten different things with these that would have been tooo long and strayed too far off path and then when I did have something I hated it. So, long story short, I had trouble writing it. Sorry it took so long! I’ve also never watched Sam I’m only just getting to the livestreams he was in with Tommy, I hope his character is good.

        Wilbur

        It had been a celebration of the freedom of L’Manberg.

        Naturally, the men and their lady of the hour wanted to go all out and finally have fun after all the war and bloodshed. There were some things they wanted to forget as well, such as the betrayal of one of their own. For once, Wilbur didn’t join in with the drinking that had started, simply just wanting to rest till what felt like the end of time after everything.

        Luckily, he hadn’t as now as he chuckled at (Y/N) rambling on about how adorable sheep were as they sat on the ground.

        “I mean, we can make them different colors, and they just don’t give a fuck. And their little faces.” She put her hands close together. “I want a pet sheep Wilbur.”

        He laughed as he stood up. “I think it’s time we got you to bed love.”

        “What? No, the party is so much fun.” She motioned with a smile at the men away from them, doubled over in laughter.

        He took her hand, pulling her up carefully. “But I believe you’ve had too much to drink. Your face is red, so let’s get you home.”

        She was quiet before grabbing his hand again, smiling. “Ok.”

        “Good. Make sure you get some sleep tonight boys, we got work to do.”

        He got a few responses between their laughter, shaking his head before he led (Y/N) away through the cool night. Her house had resided outside the L’Manberg walls but Dream and his friends took care of that. So, instead, Wilbur led her to the van, deciding to let her stay there for the night.

        “Alright love. You’re going to stay here tonight?”

        “I like it when you say, love.” She giggled. “It makes me feel all fuzzy.”

        He blushed slightly as he chuckled. “I’m sure it’s just all the drinks you had. Now, you get comfortable and I’ll…”

        He let go of her hand, only to jump as she latched onto his arm.

        “No.” She whined. “Stay here.”

        “What are you doing (Y/N)?” He asked confused.

        “I don’t want you to go. I love you. And you’re so warm.” She huffed, putting her forehead against his arm as she held out a few of her words.

        Wilbur was red as he watched the woman beside him.

        “(Y/N), you shouldn’t say those things. Come on, let’s get your uniform off.” He told her gently as he took his arm back from her only for her to hug him around the middle instead, making him laugh in surprise. “(Y/N)!”

        “Don’t go.” She spoke muffled into his chest. “Stay forever.”

        He softened as he took her hat off, putting it down on a chest as he ran a hand through her hair. “I’m not going anywhere darling. I’m just trying to make you comfortable. So, can we please get your uniform off?”

        She pouted but let go, letting him help her take her jacket and accessories off. Plopping on the bed, she struggled but managed to get her shoes off as Wilbur laid down her uniform next to her hat.

        “Alright, you need to get some rest ok? I’m going to go sleep in the front.” He explained to her, going for the door but she took his sleeve.

        “Stay with me. You’re so warm and you give the best hugs and I love you.” She rambled.

        Wilbur went red again as he looked at the door. He didn’t want to just stay here with her while she was drunk, probably unable to remember any of this in the morning, but she was stubborn even drunk. There was a voice in the back of his head telling him she would most certainly just follow him. So, with a sigh, he sat on the bed next to her.

        “Alright, but you have to sleep.”

        She grinned as Wilbur leaned back against the headboard. Coming over, she hugged him as she put her head on her chest, half on him as she hummed.

        “Good night Mr. President.” She giggled as Wilbur put a hand on her back.

        “Good night darling.” He muttered, running his other hand through her hair.

        It took a few minutes but she fell asleep on him and he was red as he watched her. It did feel warm like this and felt so right and comfortable. Maybe in the morning, after he explained the situation that they were in, he’d finally tell her how he felt to celebrate their victory further. He wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

          Philza

        Phil had been with (Y/N) for a long time, dating what felt like even longer. They had been on many travels together and seen the same amount of shit in their lifetime. Naturally, that called for a drink or two.

        In the end, it was always Phil that could his liquor better than his girlfriend and he would usually just have a good laugh at her antics. She was very giggly and thought almost everything was hilarious and this time was no different.

        “And, and he just fell. And I felt so bad for laughing but I did.” She giggled as she leaned on the table, Phil giving an amused chuckle.

        She went to take another drink, but Phil took it from her. “I think that’s all for you tonight sweetheart.”

        “You’re so good for me Phil.” She hummed, resting her arm on the table before putting her head in her hand. “Always making sure I’m ok.”

        “Well, you help take care of me too.” He reminded her as he got up, starting to clean.

        “Yeah, but you’re so much better at it. You’re so good at fighting and stuff. You also look good fighting.”

        He laughed at that as he came back over to her. “Do I now?”

        “Mhm. And-And your hair is so soft and your eyes are really pretty.”

        “Yeah, I think it’s time for you to go to bed. Come on.” He helped her up.

        As he did, she latched onto him and he knew what phase she was in her drunkenness, the clingy phase.

        “You’re going to come with me, right?” She pouted up at him as she nuzzled into him.

        “Of course.” He chuckled, putting a hand on top of her head.

        “Good, because I love you. Just don’t tell Techno, he thinks it's gross.”

        He put a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter, nearly doubling over. “I won’t…God, I won’t. Holy shit.”

        “Phil, you’re supposed to say it back.” She whispered as he led her to their bedroom once he could breathe right.

        “I’m sorry sweetheart, I love you too.” He kissed her forehead, making the woman giggle in joy.

        “Philza Craft loves me.” She squealed as she hugged onto him tightly.

        “Yes, yes.” He nodded, chuckling quietly as he managed to unlatch her from him to get her into bed.

        He made sure she dressed comfortably before they started drinking, knowing that this is where it would lead. Before she could protest, he got in beside her and pulled her in, hugging her close as he let his wings unfurl and laid one on top of them. She grinned, nuzzling into his chest, acting as if they didn’t do this all the time.

        “You’re-You’re the best.” She muttered.

        “Thank you, now sleep, angel.”

        “You’re the only angel here. Good night.” She hummed.

        “Good night.”

        With that, the two were able to sleep easily into the night.

          Technoblade

        Just a couple glasses of wine, it will be fine, they said.

        Now Techno didn’t know how the hell to deal with his best friend.

        (Y/N) and a few of the others in Pogtopia had decided to have a few rounds of drinks, Techno deciding to opt-out of it as they made it into a party and he just wasn’t that into parties. Yet, now, here he stood as his best friend was giggling like an idiot at Wilbur’s stupid joke. He didn’t know how easy his friend got drunk but here was the proof.

        Techno was trying to think of a way to get her away from the group without her putting up a fight when Tommy came over to her.

        “Hey (Y/N), you know those diamonds you got the other day,” Tommy asked her, making Techno squint as he listened.

        “Oh yeah!” She nodded with a wide smile.

        “Want to know what would be cool? If I could have them.”

        There was no way…

        “Sure!”

        That’s it.

        “Tommy, are you really trying to scam your ally while she’s drunk?” Techno came over, arms crossed.

        Tommy paled as he quickly waved his hands. “No! No! Why would you think that! I’m just going…I hear Tubbo calling for me!”

        The younger boy scampered off as Techno looked at (Y/N), seeing her pout at him.

        “That was mean Techno.”

        “He was trying to steal from you (Y/N), you’ll understand in the morning.” Techno rolled his eyes.

        “Tommy wouldn’t do that. I’m going to apologize to him for you.” She huffed, but Techno grabbed her arm.

        “Nuh-uh.” He shook his head as he pulled her back in front of him. “You’re not going anywhere; you’re staying here with me so I can make sure you don’t do something you’ll regret in the morning.”

        Then the girl smiled, giggling again. “You always look out for me Techno.”

        He was sent through a loop by her sudden change in emotions but merely shook his head. “Because I have to. You’d be dead without me.”

        That wasn’t true. While his friend was one of the nicest people he met, you mess with her and she became a whole new person that could hold her own with ease.

        “E-Exactly.” She hummed, hugging onto his arm, making him stiffen. “You’re so great Techno.”

        “Yeah, I know.” He tried to brush the emotions he felt off as he decided to make use of her holding onto him to lead her away.

        “I hope you never leave Techno.”

        “I can’t ever leave you.” He muttered truthfully.

        “You’re really good at keeping secrets, right?” She asked as he brought her into her room in the cavern.

        “I’d say so, yeah.” He nodded.

        “I’m going to tell you a big secret. You can’t tell Technoblade.” She said and he opened his mouth to say he was in fact that same person but she spoke first. “I love Technoblade. He’s just so cool and nice and I love him.”

        Techno.exe has stopped working.

        Techno tried to remember where he was and what he was doing. It took a few tries but he finally got his mind working.

        “Heh?!” He looked at her in shock.

        “Shh, he can’t know Techno.” She giggled.

        “…I don’t what the hell I’m going to do with you.” He mumbled, taking off his mask to run a hand down his face.

        “You’re going to keep it a secret right?” She pouted at him.

        “Yeah, now you need to go to bed. Like, right now.” He decided, taking his arm from her and turning for the door only for two arms to wrap around him from behind.

        “No! You promised you wouldn’t leave.”

        “I’m not leaving you idiot; I’m going to my room and letting you sleep yours.”

        “Please don’t go Techno. I always sleep better when I know you’re close by.”

        He didn’t know what to do. What were you supposed to do when your best friend you liked told you while they were drunk that they liked you back thinking you weren’t the same person?! His mind was fried and he didn’t have any ideas of how to get her to relent, so instead, he did.

        Sighing, he took his arms off him so he could turn around. “Alright, come on. Get comfortable.”

        She grinned before going over to her bed. After only taking a jacket and her shoes off, she got comfortable and he gave a long sigh before sitting beside her. As soon as he did, she put her head in his lap, humming with that dorky smile.

        “Go to sleep. I’ll be here.” He promised as he ran a hand through her hair.

        “Thank you. Good night Techno.” She muttered.

        He didn’t say anything as she fell asleep. Yeah, he didn’t know what the hell he was going to deal with this in the morning, but he supposed he should just enjoy this moment.

        Awesamdude

        “Fuck!” (Y/N) shouted across the room where the Badlanders were spending the night.

        “Language!” Bad shouted at her.

        She giggled with Ant, Sam chuckling as he watched the two. It was just a simple party, nothing to celebrate just a moment between friends with a few drinks sent around. Sam had participated in some of the events but had stayed out of most of it, deciding instead to watch his friend as she had a generous number of drinks.

        “I’m sorry Bad! I didn’t mean it!” (Y/N) called to him.

        “You should do it again though.” Ant tried to convince her.

        “No, I don’t want to be mean to Bad.” She laughed, going to have another drink.

        “I think that’s enough for now.” Sam intervened, taking the drink carefully from her hand.

        “Aww.” She pouted. “Ok. Thank you, Sam.”

        He nodded as he put it down. “Good. You can still have fun, just nothing more to drink.”

        “Alright. I can do that Sam. Have some fun with us?”

        “Sure.” He agreed.

        He didn’t do much with the group, however, mostly just sticking by the young woman’s side, though he didn’t have much choice in the matter. He had already planned on keeping an eye on her as he did know how easily tricked, she was into doing what others wanted, such as shouting fuck across the room, as they had been friends for a while; but this time was different. Usually, it was a fight to get her to stay by his side but this time, she refuses to leave his side.

        The creeper-hybrid was genuinely surprised as she followed him where ever he went.

        “Normally you want to be with everyone else, what’s new today?” He raised an eyebrow.

        “I just want to stay with you forever!” She grinned as she took his hand. “That would be nice wouldn’t it?”

        He looked at her surprised as he nodded slowly. “Yeah, that would be. But, why do you want to?”

        “Because I love you silly.” She said as it was the simplest thing.

        “I uh…” His smile grew as he processed her words. “Really?”

        “Duh.”

        He didn’t mean it to go to his head as his friend was drunk but it did.

        “What about me do you, love?”

        “You’re super smart and you’re really good at fighting.” She started to list and he laughed.

        “Alright, alright. No need for all that. Maybe we should get you home. I think you had more drinks than I realized.” He scratched the back of his head.

        “Aw, ok.” She gave a pout before he led her away and to her home.

        He took out her hidden spare key she had told him about and unlocked the door as he went inside.

        “Ok, home safe and sound. You get some sleep alright? I’ll see you in…”

        “No.” She whined as she grabbed his arm. “You said it’d be nice to stay forever so please Sam. Stay.”

        “No, I think it’s smarter if I leave so you’re not confused in the morning.”

        “I don’t care. Please, Sam. Stay.” She pouted at him and he felt his heart race slightly before humming.

        “Yeah, ok. Just to make sure you’re alright.” He nodded. “I’ll stay in the living room.”

        “No, come with me. It’s cold and you’re warm.” She said, making him blush.

        “I uh…Hey, slow down.” Sam protested as she dragged him along by his hand. “(Y/N).”

        She pulled him into her room and sat on her bed, giving him a puppy dog eyed face. His heart melted as he tried to stay strong but sighed.

        “Ok, but if you kill me in the morning, I’m haunting your ass.”

        She grinned, throwing up her arms. “Yeah.”

        “Ok, ok, come on. Let’s get comfortable.”

        The two of them shed the unnecessary layers and laid in bed. (Y/N) cuddled into Sam’s side and he put his arm around her back, gently running a hand along her side. Before another word was breathed, (Y/N) was asleep and Sam chuckled lightly.

        “Good night, I hope you say the same thing tomorrow.” He muttered before sleeping himself for the night.

[jadequeen88]

Incel Tomura

I couldn’t think of a good title for this, so... I just went with something real blunt. Anyway, this was inspired by a friend and how she actually met her IRL boyfriend.

PAIRING: Incel!Shigaraki x egirl!reader

TW: face sitting, degradation, mommy kink, reader basically bullying Tomura (he deserves it)

3.2k~

AS ALWAYS MY FICS ARE STRICTLY 18+

“TCH!”

Tomura scoffed at the screen of his laptop. The Discord server he helped admin had gone to shit since he let that idiot Dabi loosen the requirements to join. It was one thing when Toga joined. He knew she was a decent gamer. But you? With those stereotypical cat-ear headsets, perfectly done make-up and short skirts? Please… He saw right through you. Just another fake ~uwu~ e-girl trying to pretend they knew what they were talking about.

It didn’t end with you being annoyingly informed in the gaming chat, either. You were always in the anime and manga chats, too… Suggesting different ones that there’s no way you actually enjoyed.

But the WORST part of you being in the server? Spamming the picture chat with selfies and outfit pics. No, it wasn’t against the guidelines and yes, you got lots of compliments (of course, you were clearly hot), but it made Tomura livid. Where there used to be pics of half-built PCs and screenshots of character upgrades, now there were endless pictures meant to tease and bait the guys in the server.

Today’s picture is what sent him completely over the edge. Your hair was put up in two messy space buns, signature pink cat-eared headset perched on your head. Your black, mesh top was straining against your tight, hot pink bra, barely hiding your cleavage and your slender neck was adorned with a chunky, black collar with a large, silver ring hanging from the front. The icing on the cake, though… the thing that broke him, was the face you were making. Eyes crossed, little pink tongue lolling past your perfect hot-pink lips, it was an obvious ahegao face. The caption read:

“New collar! Thank you for da gift @XxXknifey_wifeyXxX”

Followed by a bunch of annoying ass emojis.

Tomura shifted in his gaming chair, his growing bulge making his sweats tight. He gritted his teeth and opened his DMs…

******

You snickered as you opened your text chat with Dabi. Poor Tomura… He had no clue his friend was an old high school buddy of yours and sent screenshots every single time he bitched about your presence on the server. At first, it was just a couple of snide comments, but you quickly decided to turn it into a game. You’d add more emojis than you normally would, flirt shamelessly with Toga in the chat, and be very vocal with your opinions. Then it progressed with more and more selfies, pics showing off your new skirts, and pics of your pink, girly gaming setup. Today you pushed it with the ahegao face, you’ll admit. It was pretty out of character for you, but you couldn’t wait to hear about Tomura’s reaction from Dabi.

It was everything you hoped it would be:

Decay_666_

So can we give those bitches their own chat or what? Seriously, I’m sick of seeing their shit everywhere. Did you see her ahegao face selfie? This server was supposed to be for ACTUAL gamers, not fake e-girl sluts spamming the chat with their bullshit…

Cremation_Daddy

Lol, damn dude, calm down… we can make a separate chat. You’re the only one on the server complaining. Y/N really fucking you up that bad?

Decay_666_

Oh, fuck off… she’s just being an attention whore and it’s getting on my nerves.

Cremation_Daddy

Yeah, whatever you say. Prolly jerkin it to that selfie right now

You didn’t know why, but you kinda had a crush on the skinny loser. Knowing how worked up he’d get over the smallest things you did thrilled you. You wanted to know just how badly you affected him and today was the day you’d find out.

*****

Tomura heard a ping from his monitor alerting him to a new DM. expecting it to be Dabi giving him more shit, he scowled and clicked over to his Discord tab. When he saw that it was you DMing him, it was like someone had poured a bucket of ice water over his head. He could barely type he was so nervous.

Y/N

Hey :)

Decay_666_

Hi

Y/N

How did you like my new collar?

Tomura panicked. Had Dabi said something? There’s no way he’d do that. How did he even respond to that? He decided to feign ignorance.

Decay_666_

What collar?

Y/N

*image*

He audibly gasped. You sent him the selfie you’d posted in the chat earlier. Somehow, it was even hotter than the first time he’d seen it. Probably because you had sent it to him. You wanted to make sure he saw it. The thought alone made him painfully hard. He typed out a shaky response:

Decay_666_

Yeah… you look really pretty :)

He grimaced. He couldn’t think of anything clever when he was put on the spot like that. Plus, how long had it been since he’d spoken to a girl one on one? Much less a hot one? Never. That’s when.

Y/N

Aww, you’re so sweet :) wanna see it in person?

Now Tomura was wondering if he’d died and gone to heaven. Did she want to meet up? Wearing that fucking collar? There’s no way… He stared at the screen for a good ten minutes before another ping brought him back to reality.

Y/N

I’m free now if you are. Plus, there’s a new episode of *insert favorite anime* out and I didn’t wanna watch it alone.

Decay_666_

Yeah. Sure.

His response was almost uninterested but inside he was panicking. When was the last time he showered? How much time did he have to get ready? Did he even have any clean clothes? He leaped from his chair and ran to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Another ping rang out and he raced to check his DMs to see that you’d sent your address. To his surprise, you only lived a short walk from him. Another jolt of excitement shot through his spine as he quickly responded.

Decay_666_

Be over in 30 :)

He turned on the shower then started picking through his pile of clothes finding the ones that smelled the least offensive. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this nervous and excited at the same time.

*****

 Tomura shifted from one foot to the other, nervously scratching at the side of his neck. He caught himself before the skin there broke and he ended up having to deal with a bloody neck on top of already being a nervous wreck. He’d only been standing outside your apartment for a minute or two, but it felt like an eternity. He kept checking his phone to distract himself. Just as he was starting to question if this had been a good idea, the door flung open.

His eyes widened and his mouth turned into a thin line. You answered the door in a fucking towel. He began opening and closing his mouth like a fish that had been plucked from the water. You giggled innocently like it was perfectly normal to answer the door nearly naked.

“You’re here a little earlier than I expected! I just got out of the shower. Come on in,” you moved to the side to give him room to walk through the door into your small apartment. You were sure to not move completely out of the way so he’d have to almost brush against your chest. You could feel him stiffen and hold his breath as he passed by.

This was going to be so much fun…

*****

Tomura’s dick had been painfully hard the moment he’d seen you in that towel. Luckily, when you’d gone into your bedroom to get dressed, he was able to position it in his waistband so he wouldn’t be pitching a tent in front of you. The thought of you noticing him popping a boner just by looking at you in a towel was mortifying. 

However, what you decided to change into didn’t help his situation. Your baby pink terry cloth shorts would have shown the curve of your ass had it not been for the little row of ruffles around the bottom. Your tank top, the same baby pink color as your shorts, was pulled tight across your chest (holy shit, were you not wearing a bra?!). A fleeting glance at your chest proved to Tomura that you definitely were not wearing a bra.

“You can come on back,” you beckoned from the doorway of your bedroom, “I thought we’d be more comfortable in here…”

He gulped and rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans before nodding and rising to walk towards you. Your room was foreign to him. Decorated with all shades of pink and purple, soft, plush bedding, and a soft pink glow emanated from the LED strip lights that lined the walls. Tomura stood awkwardly, looking around for a chair to sit in when you flopped onto your bed and began pulling up the streaming app on your tv. 

You looked up at him sweetly and patted the spot on the plush comforter next to you. “Come sit, Tomu! You don’t have to stand way over there. I don’t stink, ya know,” the wink you gave him made his knees buckle.

“Umm,” he chuckled nervously, “No, of course not. You, uhh… you smell…”

No, you were way too close. This was bad. There’s no way he would be able to string together a coherent thought, much less hold an actual conversation with you. You pout and lean in even closer to him.

“Tomuuuuu!” fuck, he hated that he loved that stupid nickname, “You think I smell?!”

“What?! N-no, not at all. I was trying to say that-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you tilted your head to the side offering up your neck for him to smell and he swears his eyes crossed as he tried to absorb what was happening.

“I even wore my new perfume! Go on, smell. Tell me what you think,” you smirk looking out of the corner of your eye.

Fuck.

You were teasing him, he knew you were, but his dick was so hard that he was completely at your mercy. He leaned in to take a tentative sniff and his eyes wandered lower. His breath hitched when he noticed the outline of your hardened nipples peeking through the thin material of your tank top. Before he knew what was happening, you turned your face forward and put your mouth next to his ear.

“Are you looking down my shirt, you pervert?” you purred. Tomura made some sort of incoherent noise and pulled away.

You laughed and pushed his shoulder playfully, “Geeze, I’m just kidding! You’re wound so tight.” you pause making a thoughtful face.

“Oh, I know how to help! Come on, over here,” you pulled him between your spread thighs and proceeded to rub his shoulders, working out all of the knots in his lean back.

After a few seconds, Tomura began to relax into your touch, slumping slightly and letting out a tiny sigh. He was deathly still the entire time you massaged him. He was terrified if he moved too much that his raging boner would free itself from his waistband. When your hands left his shoulders, he started to move away just to be pulled back into your lap. His head landed in your cleavage as your hands trailed down his chest. 

“Hmm, so tense, Tomu,” you whispered into the crown of his hair, “Is my massage not working?”

He wanted to yell that of course he was tensed up. That his dick is the hardest it’s ever been in his life and if he doesn’t hold as still as possible, he’s scared he might start humping the air like a pathetic dog. Before he can answer, your hand trails down to the waistband of his jeans, and he freezes. The tips of your fingers brush across his leaking tip and Tomura lets out a low, needy moan before he can stop himself.

“Just what I thought,” you purred as you began to trail your fingers up and down the hard bulge in his jeans, “Pathetic. Look at you, so fucking hard for me. And all I did was rub your shoulders.” He wanted to defend himself, but all he could do was whine as his eyes rolled in the back of his head while you continued touching him through his jeans.

“And to think, I never thought you’d want anything to do with some fake bimbo like me. Because I only game and watch anime for attention, right?” you squeeze his cock through his jeans, causing him to yelp. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself, incel? Wanna tell me why your dick is this hard for me if I’m so annoying to you?”

The realization that Dabi had told you everything flitted through the back of his mind, but he didn’t have room in his brain right then to be mad at him. He had to do whatever he needed to do to keep you touching him.

“I, ahh... I’m s-sorry,” he stuttered pathetically. The front of his jeans was wet from your teasing and the denim was rubbing him raw through his thin boxers, “D-didn’t, fuck, didn’t mean it like… ahh, l-like th-that.”

You loved how easily you could wreck him. You pet his hair back from his sweaty brow as you cooed at him lovingly.

“You know,” you removed your hand from the front of his jeans and he whined from the lack of friction, “You really hurt my feelings, baby. I thought you were so cool and the whole time, behind my back, you said just mean things about me.”

He sat up and turned to face you. His pathetic, needy gaze shot straight to your core. The power you held made you drunk and you desperately wanted more.

“No, no no no…” he grabbed your hands and you realized how clammy they were, “I’m-I’m so sorry. Please! Please…”

“Hmm,” you studied him for a moment, “Well… There might be a way you could make me feel a little better.” you tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, “You were so mean to me.”

“Anything! Please! I-I’ll do anything for you!” desperation started creeping in, thinking you’d leave him hanging with no relief. Little did he know, you had no intention of letting him go any time soon. Your plush lips curled into a devious smile. A soft hand reached up cupping his jaw.

“What a good boy, Tomu,” a tremor passed through his body. You reached over to your nightstand and pulled out the collar you’d taken the selfie in. 

“You know,” the collar danced between your painted nails, “This also came with a leash. I was thinking,” your lust-filled eyes meet his, “If you wanted to be a good boy for me… You’d let me see how pretty it looks around your neck.”

Tomura hesitated, his eyes rapidly moving between your eyes and the collar you held. After a moment of consideration, he nodded. You giggled and clapped your hands together excitedly leaping off the bed. You returned with a short, chain-link leash.

“Now,” you leaned in and fastened the collar around his neck. Your bodies were centimeters apart and Tomura thought he might pass out, “When you’re wearing your collar, you don’t call me Y/N,” you nudge his ear with your nose and whisper, “You call me ‘Mommy.’ Do you understand?” you feel him nod against your face.

“That’s not how good boys answer their Mommy. When you answer me, you say, ‘Yes Mommy’ or ‘No Mommy.’ Is that clear?”

“Y-yes… Mommy.”

“Mmm, what a good boy,” you placed a soft kiss on his neck and he let out the most delicious whimper. You hooked a finger through the ring on the front of the collar, “You’re gonna go sit in Mommy’s gaming chair and let her use you as a toy. Okay?” 

Tomura’s head was spinning and he almost couldn’t answer until you jerked him by his collar, “Y-yes, Mommy. Please, please make me your toy.”

You stood and dragged him over to your chair and made him sit, “What a polite boy you are! Saying ‘please’ without being asked. If you keep that up, you just might get a reward,” his belt buckle rattled as you worked his jeans down his narrow hips. 

A ragged breath escaped his chapped lips as you removed your tiny shorts revealing a black, lace thong. You straddled his lap, your dripping slit hovering a centimeter over the angry, leaking head of his cock. His hands shook as you placed them on your hips and slowly moved your thong to the side. Descending an inch at a time, only teasing his tip, was causing him to come undone underneath you.

“You’re already so close and I’ve only put the tip in. You better be a good boy and not come until I tell you to or you’re going to be punished,” you pushed another couple of inches inside and he nearly wept.

“I-I’m trying, M-mommy! I wanna be a good boy!”

“Mmm, I know, baby. You’re doing so,” another inch, “So…” and another, “Well.” you were fully seated on his cock now. Tomura knew he wouldn’t last. Your velvet walls were sucking him down harder than anything ever had before. It made his fleshlight feel like it was made of sandpaper. You had ruined him for anything else. 

With a few rolls of your hips and some high, airy moans, he was about to bust. “Mommy! Mommy, please! I-I’m g-gonna…”

“Tomu,” your voice was authoritative now, “If you come in Mommy’s pussy, I’m going to make you clean it out with your tongue then I’m going to sit on your face until I come as many times as I want.” your hand wrapped around his throat and you started bouncing on his cock. Your filthy words and aggressive motions catapulted him into an orgasm.

“You bad, BAD boy,” a smack to his cheek broke off his moans, “You disobeyed me! Did you do that on purpose?” your hand around his neck flexes, “Are you just a dirty incel that wants Mommy to get mean with you? Answer, Tomu!”

“Yes, Mommy!”

“Tell Mommy what you are…”

“I-I’m a-a… dirty incel.”

“And what do you want?”

“W-want… want Mommy to b-be mean to me…”

You lift him by the collar and attach the leash. He’s thrown onto the bed and you waste no time hovering your dripping slit over his face.

“Now,” you jerk the leash, “Clean up your mess.”

Tomura knew he should be disgusted right now, but his dick was getting harder by the second. With each lick inside your sloppy hole, he shamelessly moaned against your skin. The vibrations were going straight to your clit, causing you to ride his face harder. This went on until you’d almost reached your peak.

“Oh, baby,” you’re making Mommy feel so, so good, “I-I’m gonna…”

Tomura grabbed your ass and moved you back and forth on his face as he sucked your clit into his mouth. Your orgasm hit hard and fast. You lifted your body giving him a moment to breathe before sitting back down, earning a startled mumble from him.

“Don’t think that’s all,” you laughed and humped his face, making his eyes roll into the back of his head, “Be a good boy and mommy might even let you come…”

Tomura only nodded as he began to eat you again like he was starved. Maybe all the stuff you posted in the Discord server wasn’t so annoying anymore...

[cheekygreenty]

Hi, I just saw your prompt list for Shadow&Bone!! could you possibly do No. 2 from Angst, but like with a happy ending? Like reader n Kirigan are togeather but then Alina's comes along.. just, please let be happy at the end. I like angst, but my heart can't handle sad endings 😢😢 thank you!!! ❤❤

Future- The Darkling x Reader

(Very very angsty with a happy (?) ending. It made me cry a lil bit writing it ngl)

You trusted him, wholeheartedly. At least that's what you told yourself every day since she came to the Little Palace; the place you had always called home, where you felt safe from the prying eyes of the public.

Yet now, the place was fueled by harsh rumors of him and her. Everywhere you went you could hear a whisper, nobody tried to hide it anymore, the words were always entirely devoted to your crumbling union;

'I thought they were happy'

We were.

'How can he and Alina not be together, it's destiny.'

I'm starting to think so too.

You didn't acknowledge it. Just put on a sweet smile and a brave face. Don't let them see you're hurting. Even in your own home, you had to pretend and lie, which at the end of the day, when you laid in an empty bed, made you exhausted.

He told you she meant nothing more to him than a mere weapon. But that was when she first came and when he still managed to make it to your shared chambers and would whisper sweet nothings as you fell asleep.

It was different now, on more than one occasion you caught a glimpse of them together, him looking at her the way he always looked at you. However much he claimed to be a good actor and manipulator, there was something there and he couldn't deny it either.

You hadn't confronted him about it yet fearing that if you did, the truth would hurt and sting and make all those rumors true. In addition, you haven't seen him in days and the last time you did, he told you to stay away from the wonderful Sun-Summoner.

The truth was you knew deep down in your heart that she wasn't at fault. That she was not the root of the problem. You constantly fought with yourself to stop any hatred you felt towards her. She was lovely, kind compassionate, and innocent. She didn't deserve to feel your wrath.

But with that came the confusion of who to blame. You or Him. It made you tired and weak. The smallest of tasks made you drained and tears would well in your eyes at the thought of having to live another day like this, a day full of questioning yourself and the man you loved more than anything in the world.

No matter how much of a strong person you swore you were, this was taking a substantial toll on you. He had become your support network and he knew it, he loved it. He always said he finally felt appreciated when you came around, that he wasn't alone anymore. He had conditioned you to be this way. When times got tough, he was always your shoulder to cry on.

No doubt that shoulder was now next to Alina. Perhaps they went on a horse ride, visited the Black Heretic fountain, or were enjoying a rendezvous next to the lake.

You didn't want to know, all that mattered was that he wasn't there with you when you were falling apart. Maybe you relied on him too much.

You wondered if he noticed the whispers too, or the way you'd been missing crucial meetings, or even if he noticed you wearing your red kefta more often, ditching the black once you'd heard Genya speak of making a golden-black kefta for Alina, per the Darkling's request.

That was a punch in the gut. It hurt more than him avoiding conversation with you or even his deterrence of touching you. He had bestowed his colors to her when not even three months ago he didn't know she existed. It had taken you a long time to gain his trust and don his signature black yet all she had to do was waltz in and show up. And it hurt.

And now here you were, training the next generation of heartrenderers, as you did almost every day. You had given your life to the Little Palace and its Grisha and this is how you were being repaid. Not even Ivan, who you had shaped into an excellent soldier, had looked your way lately.

'Excuse me Ms. Y/L/N I have an urgent request from the General' You whipped your head around to the young Grisha boy with an obviously hurt look on your face which he couldn't understand.

'Of course' you choked out and took the piece of paper from his hands and watched him in sorrow as he left.

Ms.Y/L/N? what happened to moya sovereignny? You were never one to uphold the formality, but this was just another blow to your confidence. You were no longer referred to as his other half which only meant your position in the palace was quickly dwindling.

You opened the wax-sealed envelope and took out the thick sheet of paper. There was a time when he himself would deliver the news to you himself and use it as an excuse to spend extra time with you.

'I cannot make it to the meeting with the King this evening, attend and report back to me anything relevant, no horse business'

You scoffed loudly, drawing attention from the young Corporalki around you and leaned on the table in front of you. Not even a please or thank you. With the note clutched in your hand and tears of frustration in your eyes, you stormed out of the Corporalki room and towards his war room.

You peeked through the open door and seen him. He didn't look at all busy as he chatted with Zoya, Ivan, Fedyor, and some other Squaller you didn't recognize. Zoya threw her head back in laughter at something Fedyor said but Aleksander kept his stony expression. You threw the door open dramatically and everyone froze.

'Leave us' you cautioned as Aleksander's onyx eyes looked right into your own.

Nobody moved but Zoya was the first to speak ' Y/N, we're actually in a meeting if you couldn't tell' while everyone nodded along, except him.

You never had anything against anyone in that room, but in that moment you couldn't help yourself and used your small science to bring everyone to their knees in front of you, except him.

'Leave us' His voice rang out in the midst of their sharp breaths and chest-clutching. They scrambled to their feet and left one by one, Fedyor quietly muttering 'moya sovereignny' as he passed you which filled you with some courage. The door shut and the sound echoed over the walls.

You threw the note across the room and let it hit his arm. 'Did you forget your manners General? Or does it only apply to the people you claim to love?'

'Funny you should say that Y/N, you haven't attended any meetings in weeks without providing a reason. You're making me look like a fool'

'I'M MAKING YOU LOOK LIKE A FOOL?!' Your tears were now streaming down your face, falling quicker than you could wipe them away.

He stayed silent and that broke your heart even more, he could've said something, anything.

'Aleksander, I'm trying to keep myself together for everyone, I'm trying so very hard to appear normal and happy but I don't think I can do this any longer. The whispers and the rumors, watching you and her-' You slid down the door and sat on the floor, head resting on your knees. '-It's getting to me.... and it's killing me.'

You thanked the Saints you didn't see his face, for the silence spoke for itself. He didn't deny anything or reach out to comfort you. I've lost him.

'All I wanted was a happy ending.' You laughed a sad laugh that pulled at his heartstrings. With your eyes still facing away from him, you didn't see his hand go up to wipe the lone tear that fell down his face or the slight shake in his hands as he did so. He had no words that would comfort you. He knew what he'd done. He'd been avoiding you ever since he realized it. He didn't want to see you cry or see how his actions affected you.

Telling you that it means nothing to him was of no use. You had it in your mind now, forever engrained around his name, the rumors wouldn't stop and Alina was still around. He truly felt nothing of importance for her. All she meant for him was a key to a better future with you.

He approached you slowly, getting down on his knees next to you. He took your hand in his and held it up to his lips. He never prayed, but right now he silently muttered words to all the Saints. Don't let her leave.

'I'm so sorry Darling. Y/N I love you so much.'

'But you love her more' You yanked your hands away.

'NO. no. Y/N. I swear it. You are everything to me' He had grown serious now, he wanted you to look at him. He missed you.

'Then explain why you're parading her around like a Queen, letting her wear your colors, probably sleeping in her bed'

'I have never toucher her in that way. I'm yours Y/N.' Please look at me.

You lifted your head and looked at his beautiful face. He too looked tired, exhausted. His eyes were red and puffy. Saints, I've never seen him cry.

'You will have a happy ending. I promise Darling' He took your face into his hands and connected your foreheads together. 'I promise. I'm doing everything I can to make sure you will, and even if I can't, I swear you will you and our children-'

Children. Aleksander never spoke of them to the point where you had settled with the idea you'll never have them. Something about the desperation in his voice made you believe him, Aleksander was strong, he never gave up but he also never sacrificed himself for anybody. Up until now, you didn't think yourself worthy enough to be saved in exchange for him.

'-I would give up everything to see you and them safe, away from harm's way. Right now, the world doesn't deserve them, but once I do what I have to do, I'll give you children. However many you want, Just stay. Please'

You were borderline hysterical as you melted into his embrace. Weeks of frustration and hurt disappeared into thin air. Aleksander held you so tight you were having trouble breathing but you didn't care. He held you all day and all night. All meetings and tasks forgotten.

He explained everything in detail, from the stag and firebird to what happens if things don't go to plan. He kept nothing from you, not even the stress and pressure he felt. You comforted him as he always does to you. You fell asleep together and dreamed of a life with a happy ending, one where you never had to doubt his motives, you dreamed of your future.

Taglist (if you want to be added, plz tell me!)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @lostysworld

@0-artemis

[courseoflove]

Questions

You have lots of questions for Harry and he tries his best to answer each of them.

a/n: hiiiii, think it’s been almost a year since I last posted my writing and I’m finally back! thanks to @oh-honey-styles‘s new fic slam prompts, I was able to curate something I liked enough to share. usually it’d take me lotssss of drafts to be satisfied and happy with something but this one only took 2! I hope you enjoy it and pleaaaaseee be kind ⭐️😸 I’d love to hear your thoughts!

warning: this is just pureee filth. not really smut, but filthy regardless.

Word Count: 1,775

Harry’s forest eyes ogle straight at you, lips pressed in a tight line and twitching on one side to form a smirk that he tried his very best not to show.

That was definitely the last thing he expected to come out of your mouth. He thought you just needed help with something minuscule, like putting together new furniture, fixing the wifi, or help pick out an outfit; things you’ve urgently called him about before. He never, ever thought you’d call him one day and ask for this, a lesson on blowjobs out of all things.

Luckily, sex has never been a taboo topic between the two of you, considering he’s the first person you yell to when you’re letting out your frustrations about your lack of experiences, or vice versa when he just had an intercourse dilemma that continues to leave an everlasting impact on him. But when you’re asking him about giving good oral pleasure, his brain is suddenly void of any thoughts that should help the situation at hand.

“Quit smirking at me, I’m serious!” Harry flinches when you throw a pillow at him from across the other side of the sofa, instantly wiping the smirk off of his face and instead letting out a soft chuckle when he successfully catches it. You throw him an intense yet jest glare, “just. Today at work. I dunno. I just need to know. I want to know.”

“How d’you suppose I do that?” he asks cautiously, leaning forward to settle his elbows on his knees and prop his chin up with the palm of his hand, “teach you, I mean.”

You’re usually never embarrassed around Harry, despite the many weird and unusual conversations you’ve both had during sobriety and drunkenness. You don’t remember ever feeling even the slightest bit awkward or sheepish when you told him about how IUDs work, or giving him a very vivid description of how exactly you feel during your menstruation cycle. He takes it all in and listens with amusement, sometimes with a bowl of extra-buttered popcorn on his lap.

But right now, in this exact moment, you feel slightly skittish and jittery, as if blowjobs were something you’re just now learning about. He can sense it, especially with the way you’re averting your gaze from his eyes to the silent flatscreen tv nailed on your wall — thanks to him. You’re also doing that thing he constantly scolds you for whenever you’re anxious and nervous, chewing ferociously on your bottom lip and squeezing your fingers into a fist to the point your nails will sink on your palm and pop your veins.

“Stop that, you’ll bleed,” he cuts the silence off, “and answer my question.”

You unclench your fist and turn towards him again, barely making eye contact and instead looking at the lovely framed painting hung on the wall behind him, “maybe just describe it?”

“It’s really not that complicated,” was all Harry said. He leans back against your soft couch, taking both of your feet with his hands and settling them on his lap to crack each of your toes. You flinch a little on his first try, turning your focus and watching his fingers work against your skin, “think of a lollipop. Or popsicles, something of the sorts. You put it in your mouth and just… suck. Lick. Move your mouth, without the teeth.”

Suck. Lick. Move your mouth; the words that tumbles out of his lips causes you to flush, your whole body heating up and turning beet red, the color dancing across your nose and emphasizing your imperfections flawlessly.

What Harry said was pretty accurate. It’s not as detailed as you want but you don’t really know how to ask for that without feeling mortified and even more flustered. He said it exactly how it is; you just put your mouth around it, suction your cheeks, use your tongue and bob your head. But you feel like there was something missing, as if there should be more to that. Well, because there is. You want to know more.

His fingers have started to dance their way to your calf, squeezing the deep tissues there in a tender and leisure massage to try and get rid of your tensed muscles. You’re wincing in between syllables when you finally speak after a couple of seconds, “question. It might be weird. Just… just tell me if you don’t wanna answer.”

His eyes lock with yours when he hums for you to continue, a strand of curl falling over his forehead and tickling his brow while his bottom lip gets caught in between his teeth in concentration. He presses his warm hands on your leg forcefully and harder and it helps calm your nerves and neurons, your habit of overthinking in situations like this disappearing little by little the more he moves. The lack of poise you had minutes ago is lessening and your question is on the tip of your tongue, ready to burst at the seams and be voiced aloud.

With your face turning a lot redder and goosebumps developing on your skin from head to toe out of the blue, you ask with your voice a little lower than it was a while ago, “will you tell me what you like? When.. you know.”

Harry’s movements quickly halt. Another unexpected turn. Another question he never, ever thought would come out of your mouth to ask him.

He lets go of his lip and keeps his mouth agape, irises instantaneously dilating and darkening under your lemon-yellow light and turning them into an even darker shade, like a week old leaf. His brain performs a short circuit for a few moments that passes by in silence before he finally swallows and says, “you want to know what I like when I’m getting head?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, feeling even more ridiculous the more you look into his eyes and open your mouth, “I mean, you have the most experience out of the two of us. That’s why I asked in the first place, but I feel — I feel like your first answer doesn’t really — it’s just not satisfying me. There has to be more to it than just.. sucking, I dunno.”

Sure, you talk to one another about sex casually; what one undergos and encounters and what the other simply has no preconceived notions of. Harry would tell his stories in the least disgusting way possible, knowing you’ll groan out loud and tease him about it if he gives away any sort of detail, but there was almost always zero utterance on your end. No lingering and continuous curiosity. You asking about what he likes when he’s getting head is very much unforeseen and maybe even a bit… amiss, especially for you.

However, he can detect a genuine inquisitiveness in your expression. You’re probably one of the hardest people to read on the surface, but he senses that there was more to that interest than just simply wanting to know. At least, he’s hoping there is.

You cross your arms over your chest, feeling a bit weird now the more he gawks at you and doesn’t make a single move to respond. You open your mouth to backtrack when his hesitancy becomes clear, but before you can even take your question back, he’s already mouthing a three-syllable word out loud, “mouth-fucking.”

A low gasp leaves your mouth and the sound doesn’t miss Harry’s eardrums. He should want to take it back, shove the words back in his throat and never say it again despite not being able to. Still and all, he realizes that he likes what you asked and the fact he gave you an answer, a brief one but an honest and precise answer nonetheless. The way your skin warms against the palm of his hands makes him start to sweat, your bare face becoming even more flushed if possible. You don’t really know what kind of answer your mind presumed, but it obviously wasn’t that.

You’re aware of Harry’s self-confidence and boldness when it comes to sex. He has lots of it and it doesn’t come as a surprise. So when he opens his mouth again to explain exactly what he meant, you were able to hold your second gasp back and instead listen in. You can just imagine how filthy he is in bed, considering the description he gives you seems to be even more graphic and explicit, “like normal sex, but I’m doing it to their mouth. I like the sound, the sloppiness of it all, it fuels me. I like being in control, I guess, and no one wants a dry blowjob. I like it really wet.”

You startle both yourself and him when you utter, “what else?”

Harry clears his throat and looks away from your eyes, not because of discomfort because there was absolutely none, but for the reason that the more he stares the more he pictures you inside his head doing exactly what he was evoking. He blinks a couple of times in an attempt to get rid of the colorful conception, yet it just becomes even more lucid and clear-cut. He tries to distract himself by continuing to answer your questions. It definitely doesn’t help. It just drags the mental image on.

“I like it when they let me come down their throat, then swallow it. Or when — when the aftermath of pure bliss just overtakes my entire body. Like, they just pull away for a second then suck me right back in,” the skin on your legs feel sticky under his hold. You swallow at his dazed appearance and tiny smirk, as if he’s picturing it all in his head. And he is, “yeah. I like that a lot.”

Somehow it’s gotten a lot warmer inside the tiny space of your living room, every corner closing in on the two of you in your peripheral vision and you can’t exactly make out the tingling sensation on the tip of your fingers and in between your thighs. Well, you do. You know you’re undoubtedly turned on but acting clueless and ignoring it would be the best way to handle it.

You ask him one more question, the last one you’ll emit for the rest of the evening, “and how was it for them?”

Harry turns his head, connecting his darkened eyes with yours. There’s an indecipherable message written all over his handsome face. His voice is heavy, raspier and deeper with his accent when he answers for the last time, a specific implication behind his tone, “one of these days, you’ll see.”

[petri808]

If you're open for nalu requests, can you write a smut fic where nalu goes to a lingerie store because lucy wants to try on some lingerie and natsu ends up getting aroused? But if you can't it's fine just ignore this ask😊

Hi Nony, this is the last request I’ll do. Decided to save this for @thenaluarchive Sinfully Nalu event Mirror prompt. What did Lucy expect by dragging Natsu lingerie shopping?

“I’ve just got one more stop to make.” Lucy pointed towards the other side of the mall.

“Ugh…” Natsu’s shoulders dropped, “but we’ve been here for 2 hours already, Lucy, and I’m getting hungry.”

“I’ll spring for lunch. Anything you want.”

“I’m holding you to it,” he grumbled, but allowed her to pull him forward.

Natsu knew the mall well enough to know that the section they were heading towards were mostly women’s clothing stores— definitely not where he wanted to be. All these fancy clothes, and accessories, and… stuff that his girlfriend loved to wear. Sure, he didn’t complain cause it made her happy, he just didn’t wanna shop for it. Forever twenty something, Cache or Channel— whatever, “oh, uh-uh, no way,” he jerked them to a halt. “I ain’t going in there.”

“It’s just Victoria’s Secret.”

“Well Victoria can keep her secret. Lucy you’re crazy if you think I’m going in a women’s lingerie store!”

Lucy turned to face, then grabbed both of Natsu’s hands, holding them together close to her chest. “Please,” her eyes begged. “I need you to tell me what you think will be nice on me.”

Thinking about his girl, in lingerie, while standing in a mall was *not* the image Natsu wanted conjuring in his mind. But between the soft, puppy-dog expression, and her whimpering pleading— he was powerless to turn Lucy down. He sighed with a whine. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“Yay!” She giggled, kissed his cheek, and took his hand again, entwining their fingers together. “I’ll make it as painless as possible.”

Yeah, uh-huh, right… Painless.

As they walked down the rows and racks of lingerie, Natsu hummed in his head as a distraction. Bras, panties. Low cut, high cut, thongs, g-strings. Sets, individual pieces. Lace, satin, cotton. So many choices! He let the colors blend in his vision, the scents of brand-new clothing mixed with perfumes sold, or miscellaneous accessories. How do women pick anything when there’s so many options? Give him a t-shirt and jeans and he was good to go.

Every so many picks, Lucy would ask his opinion. ‘Yeah, that’s nice. No, that looks itchy. I like that color. Eww, it doesn’t match you.’ Finding her size in the styles she wanted wasn’t always easy, but after 30 minutes, Lucy had half a dozen or so items to try on. So, they head towards the fitting rooms.

Natsu stopped in front of the doors, and readied himself to stand around and wait—

“You’re coming in with me.” Lucy tugged on his hand. “I need your final opinion.”

Up until now, Natsu had managed to avoid thinking about anything even remotely related to sex, but now?! “Uh-uh, no way!”

“Please…” Lucy turned on the pouty lip-action and puppy-dog eyes again. “It’s not like you won’t see me in them later.”

Natsu gulped hard as the naughty images were unlocked. “Are you trying to kill me in public?”

“Pfft, no,” she giggled. “Stop exaggerating this.”

‘You have no idea, woman…’ “Alright, fine. But don’t blame me if anything happens in there.” Because if the twitch in his pants and slight bulge growing was any indication, it wouldn’t be what she’d be expecting.

“Tch.” Lucy rolled her eyes. “It’ll be fine, Natsu, you’ll see.”

The dressing room was a lot more spacious than he was used to seeing. Men’s fitting rooms, at least the ones he’s been in are like closets with just one full length mirror, and maybe a small bench inside. This one could easily fit them both, with wrap around mirrors to catch every angle. It had a small, cushioned bench along one wall, and a couple of hooks on the inside of the door. But most noteworthy was the fact it was a fully enclosed room— not those partial-length doors at lower-quality stores. It was very, very private.

Natsu sat down on the bench and closed his eyes while Lucy fiddled with her options. He could hear the plastic and metal hangers going up on the hooks, as well as the sounds of his girlfriend shedding her clothing. His mouth suddenly felt dry… Lucy’s voluptuous body bared for him to see with only her regular panties left on— he squeezed his eyes tighter shut. ‘Don’t think about it! Don’t think about it!’

“Ready— Natsu, silly,” Lucy giggled. “How are you gonna tell me if it’s good or not if you can’t see?”

“No.”

Lucy threaded her fingers gingerly through his hair. “Just one peak…”

‘Fuck…’ he groaned as the tightening in his shorts grew uncomfortable. “One peak.”

Natsu opened his eyes and immediately slammed them shut again from the screaming bra and panties glued to her frame. A sheer red with solid fabric only over the nipples and a strip covering her crotch. So much flesh revealed in these outfits, was there even a point to wearing anything at all?

“Great!” His voice squeaked out. “Looks fine.”

Her giggles only added to his demise. The sounds of more fabric rustling, and the twitch in his shorts… Natsu shifted in his seat trying to get comfortable, but he couldn’t. Lucy had grabbed about six of seven different pieces to try, and this was only the beginning. She was too damn sexy, and he swore, derived pleasure out of torturing him like this! Ugh, his cock was so hard right now…

“Okay, next piece,” Natsu heard her say. “I’m not sure about it, cause the color doesn’t seem to look good on me.”

Tch, it could be multi-colored polka dots and Lucy would still be a man’s wet dream. He cracked open one eye. It was a dark green, combo with frilled lace along the waistband. Natsu gulped hard as she did a turn around to reveal a thong and curvy swell of her backside.

“You do realize I’m biased, right?” Natsu blurted out. “Everything looks good on you to me.”

“Awww,” Lucy bent down and placed a chaste kiss to his lips. “I still think I’ll add this to the maybe pile,” she spoke as she started removing the pieces. “I think you’ll really like the next one I found; it has these cute flames on them.”

“You know what I’d prefer to see?” Natsu questioned, for he was done holding back.

Lucy stopped mid-way, bent slightly over with the thong down to her thighs. “What?”

Without answering her, Natsu got off the bench and started helping her take the thong off.

“Natsu, what are you—”

Once off, he moved onto her regular panties down.

“Nat— s-stop!” Lucy grabbed for his hands, but she couldn’t do much without twisting or tripping. “What are you do—”

“Keep your voice down.” He tugged those off too leaving her exposed from the waist down.

“Natsu this isn’t funny!” She seethed in an exasperated whisper.

“Neither is this,” he gestured at the bulge in his shorts. Guiding her against the mirrored wall as he spoke. “You said I could choose whatever I wanted for lunch, and I’ve decided to put you on the menu.”

Lucy whimpered when she felt the cold mirror against her bare skin. “But we’re in public.”

“I warned you didn’t I…” Natsu leaned in with a whisper, cheek to cheek. “Then I suggest you not make any noise,” his words wisp out, warm breath fanning down the barren skin as his lips burn a trail over her neck. Lucy dug her fingers into his hair, holding on but not stopping him as he moved lower.

His stops were brief, lips ghosting burning marks along her chest, a mountainous journey over the pillowy bosoms, a few licks against the pert nipples, and lower… down … snaking over her torso to what he was truly after. “Breathe, baby,” Natsu teased at her halted, bated breathing. “Just look forward and watch.”

She sucked in a gulp of air and stared forward at the mirrored image of Natsu going down on her. It was strange to literally watch every move he made like a voyeur living through another’s body. Lucy’s fingers tightened their grip on his hair in anticipation as he spread her legs a little wider…

“Mmm,” he mused in thought on how to get the best angle. “Hold to me,” Natsu suggested, and before she could reply, lifted Lucy’s left leg, and rested it on his shoulder. “Perfect…”

Natsu dove right in, latching his mouth onto the moist folds he knew so well, humming at the quick squeak his girl couldn’t catch in time. But he knew from the pull on his scalp exactly what she was experiencing. He kept one hand on her raised hip, while the fingers of his other toyed around the edge of her wet opening. His tongue pressed and circled around her clit, sucking, palpating, interspersed with soothing flicks and long strokes to lap up the growing sap gathering in the area. He closed his eyes as he relished in the warmth oozing over his face from her beautiful sex.

Heaven help her, Lucy couldn’t stop staring at that mirror… her gripped fingers to his hair and nails digging into his shoulder for dear life from the seasoned oral ministrations that slowly undid her sanity. Just his tongue alone… but the teasing fingers… Oh! Oh— Her thighs clenched to the sides of Natsu’s head as she felt one, then two fingers slipped through her walls. Lucy’s body arched slightly, and head tilted back as those fingers began swiftly pumping.

“Natsu…” Lucy moaned softly through sealed lips. She could feel his grin against her flesh, hear the squishing sounds, and smell the light scent of her extreme arousal. Damn him…

In a race against time, Natsu pumped fast and hard while his mouth and tongue devoured Lucy’s sex and sanity with an intensity to rival any known battle for supremacy. Each passing second, drawing the heated coil at her core closer to snapping. Her legs trembled, yet clenched and stiffened as his fingers pummeled, bumping the swollen sex being driven to his knuckles reach. He could feel Lucy start unraveling and held firmly to her hip bone as the jerky spasms rocked her body in orgasmic euphoria.

“Stop, stop, stop—” Lucy clawed at his back and neck as she whimpered from the immense pressure boiling in her body, and radiant moisture pooled in her eyes. “Please… enough, Natsu my legs are gonna give out.”

After giving her pussy a few more licks to clean up the excess juices, Natsu finally obliged and put down Lucy’s leg, then stood up while still supporting her as she caught her breath. He licked around his lips and cleaned off his fingers. “Best lunch in the world,” he grinned.

“Oof!” Lucy playfully slapped his chest with a short laugh. “Not what I’d meant. And now I don’t have time to try on the rest.”

“Why not?”

Lucy started putting on her regular clothes. “We’ve been in here for too long, it’ll be suspicious.”

“Tch, then just buy all of it if you like them, cause I’m telling you they’ll all look great on you.”

She glared at him. “Fine, but after pulling that stunt, now you owe me lunch!”

Natsu shrugged and grabbed all the hangers of clothing. “Okay, since you’ll need your strength later.”

“Later?”

The widest seedy grin bloomed on Natsu’s face. “You’ll see…”

[peachy-panic]

A Formidable Ally

Part of Do No Harm.  The Thomas character that is briefly featured here. Ms. Torley is first introduced here.

WARNINGS: Alcohol use/forced alcohol abuse, BBU/BBU-adjacent, implied noncon, brief parental grief mention, implied past abuse, divorce after abuse

Mr. Torley gets sloppy in his final weeks of Jaime’s contract. His calculating precision used to be one of the most frightening things about him, but Jaime knows well that fear is a many colored beast, and this new hue of his Keeper is just as much one to be afraid of. He sees the pattern—the one he has tried to work out in his head about Mr. Torley’s previous contracts—unfolding in real time. Six months must be the magic number, the amount of time it takes for him to get bored, because it’s around month five that things begin to shift.

On the second to last Sunday under Mr. Torley’s roof, things reach a tipping point at the football party. Where his Keeper’s possessiveness might have protected him in small ways before, this new bored callousness has left him out in the cold. Exposed for other predators to find. It occurs to him how twisted it is that the one person he hates and fears the most is also the only layer of defense he has in the world. And he thinks that’s exactly the point.

It starts with one of Mr. Torley’s friends offering him a beer, which would be harmless if everyone in the room did not know full well that an offer isn’t an offer when it comes to someone like him. When he cuts his eyes to his Keeper for permission, for confirmation that this offer is now a command, Mr. Torley only shrugs without looking away from the TV, making some offhand remark to Jaime about not being rude to his guests.

So Jaime drinks it.

And he drinks the next one that is placed in his hand, the one after that, and when, eventually, the aluminum cans turn into glasses of amber liquid that singe the back of his throat, he drinks those too.

He’s stumbling by the second quarter, feet catching on the rug when he brings them drinks, his weight falling into the corners of the countertop, the walls. They laugh. They think it’s hilarious, watching him slip further into helpless inebriation. None of them know that Jaime hasn’t eaten dinner or that he doesn’t do well with alcohol. None of them care.

Thomas’s eyes have been glued to him since he walked through the door.

Mr. Torley’s work associate had made good on his promise to “see Jaime next week” after the first time he pulled him into the bathroom, and the pattern hasn’t stopped since. He knows tonight will be no different, but all he can do is avoid his eyes from the far side of the room, serving drinks with his head down and waiting for the moment he is called into the bathroom or the linen closet or the back porch or whatever setting he chooses for his cover story this time.

He has pushed Jaime a little further each time, and the thought fills his stomach with steady dread as half-time inches closer on the scoreboard. His leer lingers like a physical sensation, ghosting over his skin like the cold fingers that come later. He can only hope that the growing warmth in his chest, blossoming out to his face and limbs with every shot, will make it a little easier for him to get through.

He knows it won’t.

And when it comes, it doesn’t.

Mr. Torley stands over him at the end of the night, his towering frame leaned against the bathroom doorway as Jaime empties his stomach. He doesn’t have to look up to feel the disgust radiating off of him.

“You’ll sleep in your own room tonight,” he says like it’s a punishment instead of a mercy. “Thomas may have low standards for what he sticks his dick in, but I do not. Get ahold of yourself. You have responsibilities in the morning.”

He’s too drunk to put it together then that Mr. Torley knows. That maybe he’s always known. And by the time he’s sober again, he will be far too numb to care.

***

It feels like he has only just closed his eyes when a muffled thumping shatters his fragile unconsciousness. Jaime comes to on a cold, hard surface. It’s a familiar blend of sensation—the smooth tile beneath his cheek, the cool sweat on his skin, the shakes. There is little dread quite as strong as the kind that comes from waking up to another day in the training facility. He knows because he has done dozens of them. Something is off, though. Before he even opens his eyes, he knows, because when he flexes his fingers, there is something plush beneath them, and there was never anything soft in his training cell.

A bathmat. His eyes spring open and everything is sideways, but he recognizes the shaggy strands of white microfiber beneath his fingers, and it orients him a little bit more. He’s not at the facility, though waking up on Mr. Torley’s bathroom floor is a shitty runner-up as far as dreadful scenarios go.

The thumping again. Only, with his mind slowly easing back to him, he registers the sound as an intentional kind of pounding. Whatever it is, it’s enough to awaken his instinctive panic, because… because shit, he’s on the bathroom floor and it’s the middle of… it’s… he doesn’t know what time it is, but probably Mr. Torley will be home soon, and it’s Monday so the boys—

The boys.

The pounding stops, and Jaime goes still as he hears the front door push open. Two sets of light, quick footsteps charge through the entryway. The boys are home, which means...

He scrambles to peel himself off the floor, bare skin sticking to the tile, but when he sits upright everything goes to shit. Dizziness and nausea and searing, blinding pain in his head; everything clamps down on him at once, full force. He barely makes it over the rim of the toilet before his stomach muscles tighten up again. The strain is hell on his raw throat, but it just keeps going. By the time his stomach is done rejecting whatever trace amounts of alcohol must be left in his system, he hears the distinct sound of heels on the wooden floor, drawing closer to the bathroom.

“Hello?” He recognizes Brooke Torley’s voice immediately. Jaime goes still.

He wants to curl up and cry. He is going to be in so much trouble, and he is so fucking miserable, and he is clad only in the thin, black cotton briefs that Mr. Torley buys for him, but he is all out of options because he can’t just ignore that she’s calling for him. He has fucked up enough today as it is. It takes all of his strength and grabbing onto the edge of the sink with both hands to pull himself to his feet, and even then, he topples sideways as soon as he stands, shoulder colliding with the wall. Then his foot catches on the bathmat. He narrowly misses hitting his head on the porcelain tub on his way back down.

The click of heels comes to a stop out in the hallway. It starts up again a moment later, quicker this time and moving closer. Jaime shuts his eyes. He waits. He doesn’t have to reach up and unlock the door because he knows better--no locked doors for Jaime in Mr. Torley’s house, not unless he’s locked in somewhere with him. When the door swings open, he can’t help but shrink away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers before she has a chance to speak.

The silence that stretches out between them in the small space is a terrifying thing. When he finds the courage to look up at her, she is watching him with an expression he can’t read, because it seems to flit through a dozen emotions before landing on something like stunned. It’s better, he supposes, than the disappointment or anger he had been expecting. Without warning, she takes a step into the bathroom and drops into a crouch beside him. Jaime can’t help but flinch back from her again.

Jaime can count on one hand the amount of times Ms. Torley has spoken to him, but her voice has never been as gentle as it is when she puts one knee on the ground and says, “Are you alright?”

“I’m sorry,” Jaime says again, reflexively. “I got sick. I… I think I might have passed out? I don’t feel… I don’t…” Jaime scrambles up onto his knees again at the warning his body is giving him, but this time it’s nothing but miserable dry heaves over the bowl. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out around a gag. “S-Sorry.”

“Hey. Relax.” A warm, soft hand lands lightly between his shoulder blades, stroking his back as his body convulses. “You don’t need to apologize. You’re okay.”

When he finally sits back, Ms. Torley is waiting with a wad of toilet paper. He takes it gratefully, swiping at his lips. “Is he…my—is Mr. Torley home?” he asks. Even he can hear the terror in his voice.

Brooke watches him with that careful expression again. “No. It’s just me and the boys. We came straight from school. When you didn’t answer the door, I used Steven’s spare to get in.” Jaime nods, drawing into himself as much as he can in his exposed state. She waits a beat, shifting so that both knees rest on the cool tile beside him. “How long have you been sick?” she asks.

Does he tell her? Will he get in trouble if Mr. Torley finds out he told her? It’s a direct question, though, and he knows better than to lie or evade it, so he closes his eyes and hopes for the best. “Since this morning, ma’am,” he croaks. “Or… or last night, I don’t really…” He trails off, shaking his head as the memories and the black spots in between fizzle together in his mind. “I was drunk,” he confesses.

“Okay,” she says, nodding. She is looking at him like she’s calculating something in her head, but the light in the bathroom is making Jaime’s head pound even harder so he closes his eyes. “We should get you in bed, yeah?” she says finally. “Hangover is a bitch. Believe me, I would know.”

Jaime has been hungover before and this is definitely something way worse, but he doesn’t say that. Instead, her words make him bolt upright, the movement rewarded by another thunderclap of pain. “No, I need to…” He closes his eyes against another swell of nausea and god when will his body run out of things to reject? “I need to clean up from the party, and the dishes need—”

“Sev?” Kade appears in the doorway over his mother’s shoulder, concern shining in his big, round eyes.

Jaime tenses, freezes up, but Brooke is calm. She turns over her shoulder to her son, smiling. “It’s alright, honey. He… Sev isn’t feeling good right now, okay? I’m going to help him really quick. Go upstairs. Have Steven help you unpack your bag.”

Kade steps to the side to peek around her once more, locking onto Jaime’s eyes. Jaime feels the burn behind them as they fill with helpless tears.

“I’m okay,” he mouths, forcing his mouth into a shaky smile. It’s a weak reassurance, but it’s enough to convince him to follow his mother’s instructions.

The two of them wait for the sound of his little footsteps to disappear up the stairs before she turns back to him. “Do you need help standing?” she asks.

“I’m fine, ma’am,” he says quietly, trying his best to prove his point by using the wall as leverage. He manages to push himself onto his feet and Brooke stands with him, one hand held out without quite touching him. “Mr. Torley will be home soon, and my chores… I need to have them done, I must have-...” He stops, shakes his head. No one wants to hear your excuses. “Please excuse me.”

He starts to shuffle past her, clinging to the wall as he goes, but her hand on his arm freezes him in place. Chores or not, he knows better than to resist a direct order to stay put. For a moment, the weight of her hand on his bare arm plants a new fear under his skin. Ms. Torley is pretty, and she seems like a good person if a little standoffish, but the thought of having to perform while he feels this sick is insurmountable. He shudders under her touch, wondering how angry Mr. Torley would be if he found out. Or if he already knows. Like he did with Thomas. He wonders if Zero ever had to suffer this, too. If their Keeper never minded sharing his toys.

“Please.” The word comes out as the ghost of a whisper on his chapped lips. He doesn’t realize he has shrunken back against the bathroom door until she takes a step back, dropping her hand.

“Sorry,” she says. “I just… I think you need to get some rest. You’re clearly too sick to work.”

“I’m not,” he tries.

“You are.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, and Jaime snaps his jaw shut. She sighs, searching his face again. “Listen,” she says, “I’ll take care of your… your chores. Give me a list of everything that needs to get done and I’ll make sure it happens.” When Jaime opens his mouth to speak, she holds up a hand and adds, “I’ll be out of here before he gets home, don’t worry. Believe me, I have no desire to cross paths with him either.”

“Ma’am…”

“This is not a negotiation.”

That shuts him up. Jaime curls his trembling fingers at his sides, telling himself not to think about the consequences that are sure to come later in order to follow the instruction he is being given now. These are the times when his training hurts the most; when it contradicts itself and leaves him with no option but to suffer through the anxiety of knowing he loses either way he goes. He always loses. It was rigged that way.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispers. He thinks he sees her wince in his periphery, but she recovers quickly.

“Here, come on. Where do you…? Do you have your own room?”

He nods. She doesn’t touch him again as he leads her down the hall to his small cubby behind the laundry room, but the heat of her hand hovers at the small of his back. When he opens the door, she makes a noise like a scoff, and Jaime looks up at her. Her eyes trail over the disheveled cot, the blankets still strewn about from his mad dash to the bathroom this morning. He swallows. “This is it.”

It takes her a moment to recover. “He makes you sleep in the closet.” It isn’t a question. There is a certain note of horror in her voice, but not necessarily one of surprise.

“Only on the weekdays.” It slips out before he realizes what he’s saying. She stiffens but mercifully doesn’t press him further. Maybe she already knows.

“Okay,” she says. “Okay. Just… go ahead and lay down, alright? I’m going to get you a couple of things.”

There is little left for him to do except follow that simple instruction, so he does. His body melts into the stiff cradle of his bed like he’s floating on a cloud, apparently more desperate for rest than he realized. She asks him for the list of tasks he is expected to have done in time for Mr. Torley’s arrival, and he’s just able to list them from memory before his eyes start slipping. At some point, he hears the heels on her boots retreating from the room.

He must doze off pretty instantly after that, because when he opens his eyes again Ms. Torley is hovering in the doorway. She clears her throat and looks away when she sees him watching her.

“I got you some water,” she says, gesturing to a tall glass—one he knows he’s not allowed to use—on the floor beside him. “It looks like you could use a lot of it, so drink up.” Then she holds out a couple of clear blue gel capsules—which he’s definitely not allowed to have. “And these are in case you’re in any pain. Which I strongly suspect you are.”

Jaime presses his finger into the middle of his brow where a steady throb has been emanating for hours. He’s pretty much gone blind to the constant, dull ache in his head after the facility doctors refused to prescribe him glasses, but today is a special case. The idea of taking these pills without his Keeper’s explicit permission is perilously close to the kind of rebellion that has been beaten and electrocuted and fucked out of him. The whole thing spells danger. Still, he holds out his hand and lets the tiny capsule fold into his palm.

“Thank you.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t need to do that. Can I…?” It’s only then he sees the damp rag in her other hand, folded into a long strip. Jaime nods automatically, though he doesn’t really know what she’s asking. Her citrus perfume floats into his space as she crouches beside the bed. She raises the back of her hand to his face and Jaime does not let himself flinch. He nods again, and she places her fingers against his cheek, then slides them up to his forehead.

“Here,” she says, laying the cool cloth along his hairline. Jaime nearly melts under the sensation. His eyes flutter closed, a soft hum buried in his throat. It feels so good. It feels so nice to be touched like this, to be taken care of without an exchange required. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s had that, even before he was moulded and carved into the nameless body he lives inside of now.

Distantly, with his eyes closed, the soft pressure of her touch summons a picture of his mother. The color of the image has faded with time, her memory distorting since the acquisition team at WRU stole his last surviving photo of her. But now, here, in his state of sickness and delirium, he feels her close by. He can’t help but lean into the touch. Jaime. The exact pitch of her voice is getting harder to remember now, too, but he swears he hears it now. Mom, he tries to call back to her, but his cracked lips barely move with the shape of the word.

Maybe if he hears her, sees her now, it means he is dying, too. Maybe she is finally coming to take him away.

“Make sure you drink the water.” Ms. Torley’s voice wipes away the image of mother’s face, like a hand swiping over a drawing in a window’s condensation. He cracks his eyelids as she stands to her feet again. From his trajectory on the bed, she looks a hundred feet tall. “And please, take the pills if you want them. They’ll help.”

Jaime nods against his pillow. She looks like she wants to say something else. During most of the interactions Jaime has with her, she almost always looks like she is biting back more words than she lets out. He tries to stay awake, just in case this is the time she decides to speak, but the world is already growing grey and hazy around the edges.

“Get some sleep,” she tells him, retreating back toward the doorway. “I’ll take care of this. And I’ll wake you before I leave. You’re not going to be in trouble, I promise.”

He wishes he could believe her. He tries to nod again, but the moment his head shifts against the pillow, he’s already under.

***

Do No Harm TAG LIST: @whumpervescence @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing @whumptywhumpdump @nicolepascaline @anotherbluntpencil @hold-him-down @crystalquartzwhump @maracujatangerine @batfacedliar @thecyrulik @pumpkin-spice-whump  @melancholy-in-the-morning @also-finder-of-rings @insaneinthepaingame @skyhawkwolf @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

[sxdmoonchxld]

Operation: Pop The Cherry | JJK

Jungkook x Virgin!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: rough bathroom sex, college au, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, Jungkook has a virgin kink if you couldn’t tell by he title, lowkey sadistic JK, Gay BFF Jimin, mentions of alcohol and weed, brief mention of homophobia. bIG diCK Jungkook, more belly bulging, and I forgot what else

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: Against you better judgement and thank to your best friend Jimin. You somehow agreed to let a stranger on campus known as the Cherry Popper, too well..pop your cherry.

Alternatively: You're a virgin. Jungkook has a fetish/kink for fucking virgins.

A/N: I guess i’ll keep putting this note until i stop reposting my old stories. I use to be lizardsocial, and this fic was previously called Game. You may still be able to find it somewhere on tumblr. I edited this fic heavily and it’s honestly a new story, but there are still some elements from the fic it used to be still in there. Unedited so please let me know of any mistakes or typos. Like, comment, reblog, let me know what you think. Enjoy!

_________________________________________

Bass boosted pop music seeped through the dense walls of the energetic room. Strobing bright colored beams danced to the rhythm of the music in mesmerizing synchrony. The musty odor of marijuana, booze, and sex-saturated air shrouded the room in a turbid veil, covering the sea of drunken undulating bodies packed in the cramped living room.  Empty beer cans and other various booze bottles mixed with burnt-out blunts accompanied the young adults. You groaned with irritation and disgust. You didn't want to be here, but to your chagrin, you had a promise to keep.

It wasn't a secret that the college nightlife was unquestionably not your type of 'scene.' You quite frequently elected to willingly engage most of your time in your freshman dorm, wrapped in your weighted burrito blanket. A nightstand stockpiled with all your favorite snacks, lights dimmed low, and lavender incense burning, filling your room with the aroma of relaxation. The perfect setting to binge-watch your favorite show for the umpteenth time, the shifting distorted brightness of your computer screen, projecting the scenes against your face. 

It's kind of funny how you got yourself into this mess in the first place. The one time you decide to take the chance and branch away from the alternate antisocial hermit, your personality had adopted as its own had come back to bite you in the ass. You admit, lately, you've been neglecting your best friend. Your reasonings generally varying from the classic 'oh I was sleep' to deliberately silencing your phone, not wanting to hear the constant shrill ringing of the default ringtone. You loved Jimin, you truly did, but you could only take so much of his eccentric mashup of bubblegum and rainbow sparkles that was his personality. Eventually, guilt began eating away at you piece by piece until you ultimately caved in and invited your friend over for an impromptu movie night in your dorm room. 

Not even 30 minutes into the movie, one that you had been dying to see, might you add, Jimin commenced his drunk and high chattering. He had already started 'pre-gaming' before he came over; Six shots of straight Vodka and 2 blunts. Every day you prayed for this man's liver and brain function; with how much he drank and smoke, you would think he needed it to function. 

"Oh! Oh! Bitttch. Did I tell you about that football player, I fucckked last week!" Jimin started slurring on certain words. You noticed his eyes were glossy and glazed over. 

"No, you didn't, Chim." You sighed, completely giving up trying to watch the movie. You would have to watch it on your alone time. 

"Reeaally?" Jimin slurred, a goofy grin uplifting his lips.

"Yes, really. You haven't told me." Amusement lightly coated your voice. 

"Welll, his name is T-tae, Tae-tae something. Hold on, it's coming to me." Jimin said, rubbing the sides of his temples, trying to remember the guys' name. 

"Taehyung! That's it!" Jimin shrieked, snapping his fingers in victory.

You looked at him startled. You remember Taehyung from high school. You didn't recall him being at this college, though. Well, it wasn't like you paid attention to many things outside your bubble anyway.

"Wasn't he homophobic as fuck in high school?" You asked, genuinely interested.

"Yeah, he was. Buttt I guess he was trying to cover up, that he was actually on the DL." Jimin smiled, whispering the last part.

"DL? What's that mean?" You inquired

Jimin looked at you with a look of betrayal. "It means he's on the down-low, meaning he didn't want anyone to know he's gay. Girrl, I'm too crossfaded to be explaining this to you."

You chuckled, " My bad, Chim. So was it good?"

"Fuck, no! Dick was straight trash. The only thing that saved him a little was that his dick was huge." Jimin said, wiping away a pretend tear from the corner of his eye. 

You laughed boisterously at that. If Jimin wasn't so adamant about becoming a professional dancer. He could seriously take up a career in comedy.

"Speaking of dick. When are you gonna get some?" Jimin asked, turning his body to face you completely. As you looked at him, you noticed his eyes seemed a bit clearer, and his face wasn't as red as earlier. Not only did Jimin drink like a fish and smoke like a chimney. He was somehow able to sober just as fast.

"Oh my god, Jimin. Please don't sta-"

"Mmm, no missy," Jimin said, wagging his finger in your face.

"Don't you hear it?" He said, cupping his hand around his ear as if he was straining to hear something.

"Hear what?" You replied, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms against your chest.

"The cobwebs and tumbleweed living in your cunt."

"Jimin!" You shrieked, slapping the arm closest to you.

"Don't Jimin me! You know it's true, I swear you're gonna be a 40-year-old virgin, and by the time you finally make the decision to have sex, it'll be too late!" Jimin yelled, stumbling to stand up from the couch.

"First off, ouch. I won't be a 40-year-old virgin. That's very insulting. Second, I do plan to lose it soon. I just haven't found the time or the right guy." You said, looking down at your feet shyly. You did want to lose your virginity, but with being an introvert with a mix of social anxiety and just a dash of seasonal depression for added flavor. It was hard even to get out of bed sometimes. Much less going out and trying to find someone to do the do with.

"Oh! Well, if that's all, then I got you covered, babe. Time? Next week Friday at Jihyo's dorm. As for the right guy, I know a dude. He has like a kink for that kind of thing." Jimin answered nonchalantly, now scrolling through his phone, probably on his social media page.

You looked at Jimin, head tilted to the side, confused. "What kind of thing?"

"Oh, you know fucking virgins and shit. Popping their cherries." He said, popping his "P's."

You sputtered, exasperated. What the fuck. You didn't kink shame, that was for losers, but he can't seriously expect you to do something like that.

"What the actual fuck. Jimin, are you serious?"  

"Deadly." He said, looking you square in your eyes. His tone of voice haven dropped an octave lower.

"Jimin no. I-i can't."

"Jimin, yes! Err, I mean _____ yes, you can! Come on, it's a once in a lifetime experience. Plus, it's not like he's a total stranger. I've known him since he was 8 years old. I use to babysit the little shit head." Jimin said, waving his hand in the air, trying to swat away a rogue fly.

"Wow, Chim. You know, now that you put it like it makes me feel a lot better about the situation." You said tone dripped in sarcasm

"Really?" Jimin squealed, a delighted twinkling in his eye.

"Of course not! Don't be stupid!" Offended, you gawked at Jimin. You swear sometimes he could be so dimwitted.

"Come on, please? At least meet him, and if the vibe is not right, then you can leave no harm done." Jimin pleaded, his attention back on you. Was it crazy that you were actually thinking about agreeing to this? Jimin did have a point. It was sort of a once in a lifetime opportunity. He did know the guy, and if you didn't like the vibe, then you could just bounce, right? Right?

Sighing in defeat, your hands dragged down your face and turned towards a pouting Jimin. Grabbing at his deflated shoulders, you shook her lightly, and with urgency in your voice, you spoke, "Alright goddammit! I'll do it, but you have to stay by my side the whole time, no running off, you understand!" 

You watched Jimin's face quirk into a sly smirk. You swore you could see the cogs in his brain churning. Damn, you were going to regret this. You had the tendency to make deals when pressured. Most of the time, those agreements ended up backfiring on you, confining you in the proverbial rock and a hard place. 

"Yay! Operation: Pop _____ Cherry has commenced. Okay, so will meet at the auditorium on the art campus. From there we will walk to Jihyo's dorm, it's only five minutes. Promise me you'll actually show up and won't flake on me." A complacent expression rested arrogantly on Jimin's features, a single pinky finger extended towards you. 

"Don't give this situation a not-so-secret code name. And I can't believe I'm saying this but, I promise." You agreed, interlocking pinky fingers, yours thumbs coming up to press against one another.

"So I'll meet you at the location Friday, don't be late, and wear something sexy. No granny clothes." he chirped, making his way to your front door.

"Wait! You're leaving already?" you frowned, looking at the clock on your wall. He's only been here for an hour, and 30 mins of it were spent persuading you to hurry up and lose your virginity. You didn't even get to finish the movie together.

"Sorry babe, but I have a dick appointment." he shrugged, putting his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.

"Can you at least tell me the name of the guy who's supposed to fuck me?" you huffed, honestly you were done for tonight. As soon as Jimin left, you were heading straight for bed.

"Oh yeah, how could I forget." Jimin slaps the center of his forehead. "He's a real cutie. I would fuck him if he wasn't as straight as an arrow." Jimin looks off to a far wall, eyeing it with jealousy.

"Just tell me his name, please." You pleaded. Oh yeah, that's definitely a headache forming. You could feel it already. Jimin snaps out of his daydreaming and spins his body towards you.

"Jungkook."

Time skip to a week later, and precisely as you suspected, what a mistake that whole conversation was. Now here you were at this fucking dorm party with people you didn't know or care to get to know. Jimin had left you as soon as he saw his next piece of ass. Restlessly you hauled down the short black dress that insisted on riding up your ass, the soles of your feet protesting in the slim heeled shoes. Floundering your way into the packed building, you couldn't help but query where Jungkook was. Jimin was supposed to get around to send you a picture of the mystery man, but that never happened. Funny how now was the best time you decided to question why exactly Jimin was your best friend.

"Well damn, the pictures Jimin sent me doesn't do you justice at all. You're fucking hot." You recoiled from the closeness of the voice, the heated breath sending chills skittering down your spine, and the hairs on the back of your neck ramrod straight. Heat spurred to your face when you whisked around to meet an absolutely gorgeous guy. Like unfairly gorgeous guy. You stared wide-eyed, taking in his chiseled facial features, paired with wide doe eyes and bunny smile decorating his face. Somehow, someway he's mastered looked soft and sexy at the same damn time. And fuck was that a dangerous combination for your pussy. Your heart too, but more so your cunt.

"U-uh, thanks? Who are you exactly?" You watch as he recoils back from your with a look of apprehension on his face.

"A-are you not ____?" he stutters cutely. You think you can see the beginnings of a blush burning his cheeks. You nod your head once to confirm his question. He stared at you a minute longer before you see the recognition spark in his chocolate orbs.

"Jimin didn't send you my picture did he?" Shaking his head with his eyes close, you get the courage the scan his face a bit more. Yeah. He's definitely blushing.

"Sorry. I guess seeing you here, I thought Jimin would have...prepared you better." Shaking your head from side to side because your words refused to come out. You watched as he backed up a bit further from your personal space and thrust his right hand out to you. 

"The name's Jungkook, or J.K. Whatever suits your taste."

With clammy hands, you taking his outstretched hand marveled at how it almost covers your hand. Now that he's moved back from you, you now had to chance to see how tall he really was. Maybe about 6 to 7 inches taller. You look down at his feet and eye his combat boot, perhaps a little shorter but still taller. And big, yeah, definitely bigger. His oversized black jacket did little to hide the broadness of his shoulders and chest. You let your eyes travel down the length of his body. You bet he's hiding some killer abs under his shirt. And holy fuck, his thighs.

"You like what you see, baby girl?" Teasing, he's teasing but God, if his voice didn't make you pussy throbbing pathetically. Whimpering slightly, you let out a meek "Yes." God, you hope he didn't hear that.

Much to your dismay, he did, hear you. How he heard you with the music as loud as it was, was a mystery to you. But you watched his pupils dilate, and his nostrils flare slightly. Jungkook tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes rake up and down your scantily clad body. His heated stare scrutinized across your body, intrigue exerting over him, as he analyzed the way the snug-fitting dress molded to the curves of your shape. He could tell you didn't do this often. His dick twitched in his jeans with enthusiasm. 

It's the increase in pressure of your hand that makes you realize you're still holding his hand. You go to retract your hand from his. However, yelp shrilly as he tugs you closer to his body. Both hands now resting on his chest, and his wrapped around your waist. Fuck, you could feel the warmth and coarseness of his hands through your thin dress. A spontaneous tremor racked your body. The heat-transmitting from his frame mixed with the floral yet musky undertone of his cologne made you somewhat featherbrained.

"Fuck, you're so soft." You squeak as he squeezes your waistline, pulling you even closer against his body. You were now putty in his hands.

"Jimin told you my....preferences, right?" his voice caressed your ear. Just a slight movement or subtle twitch, and his lips would be on your skin.

"Y-yeah, he did." It should be an embarrassment how frail and breathless you sounded, but that didn't matter.

Jungkook hid his smile behind your ear. This was just too easy. Just how he liked it. He almost felt bad- almost. He was gonna ruin you utterly and completely, mold the shape of cock in the walls of your pussy. His name spilling from your lips, voice going hoarse by how loud he would make you scream. Fuck he couldn't wait. He's had virgin's before, a lot of them. That's his whole M.O. The cherry popper, virgin fucker, whatever. Jungkook's heard all the names in the book. But there's just something about you, you just had an air of genuine innocence, and he couldn't wait to defile it. 

Jungkook pulls his head back, enough to where his eyes can trail over the bared skin of your neck, and the sprinkling of perspiration sparkling off the bright strobing lights, no doubt from nervousness. His tongue traced over his thin upper lip, watching the droplets of sweat spiral down the curve of your neck. He wanted to taste you. 

"Alright, then." He jerks his body away from you. You're no longer touching his chest, but his hands are still on your waist. 

"Let's enjoy the party before the fun really begins. Every done body shots before?" Jungkook spoke casually, undeterred by the way you recoiled back or the look of stupor on your face.

"W-what? B-body shots, why?" you squeaked, failing to keep from stuttering over your words. Is this how it's supposed to go? Is this normal? You're bewildered, and just a bit perturbed. Were you just imagining that sexual tension that was going on just moments ago? For sure, you thought Jungkook was gonna throw you over his shoulders and haul you off to the nearest unoccupied bedroom or bathroom. At that instant, you didn't care. 

Jungkook regarded the war of emotions wage across your features, merriment and strobing lights twinkling in his eyes. Fuck, you were cute, so desperate staring up at him with a pout on your face a puppy dog eyes. He could honestly just take you back to the closest room and fuck the shit out of you. But he wanted to play with his prey, a bit more. The wait made it that much more satisfying.

"Don't pout too much, baby girl or I may not be able to contain myself. Follow me. The table is this way."

Jungkook didn't indulge in answering any of your questions you rambled off at him, delighted to see you trailing on his heels like a lost pup. Jungkook directed you further into the dorm, and like a dog on a leash, you followed. In the center of a sparse room sat a scraped up black table. You observed the area. It was devoid of many people. The several that were present made no recognition of your proximity in their intoxicated state.

"So who's first?" Jungkook asked, setting the bottle of tequila, rim salt, and limes down on the table.

"U-uh, I don't know. I guess it doesn't matter." You shrugged hesitantly. You were way out of your element here.

"Perfect then, you first." Jungkook should be ashamed by how excited he was at getting to sample your skin. It looked smooth, felt soft when he had you in his arms, and would no doubt probably taste as sweet as it seemed. You nodded in docility, wandering over to crawl on top of the table, being attentive to your dress. You lay flattened against the table, shiverings racking your body as he began pouring a trail of salt between your cleavage. 

He poured himself a shot in the depression of your throat and tore the lime in half with his bare hands. Smirking at how you flinched when he thumped the liquor bottle down beside your head. Jungkook pushed the other half of the unevenly split lime towards your lips, a silent gesture to take the lime in your mouth. Jungkook watched as your lips curled gently around the hull of the green citrus. A flare of lust stirred in his loins at the action. He couldn't wait to see your lips stretched around the head of his cock. He observed your eyes clamped closed as he began dropping his head forward to your chest. It was adorable and innocent. He noted the way your lips slackened around the citrus in your mouth, your chest heaving in speed, the closer his tongue trailed to your neck.

You tasted splendid, just as sweet as he thought. The salt on your skin did nothing to deter your natural flavor. If anything, it enhanced your sweetness, rendering your skin damn near mouth-watering. Jungkook's ears perked at the breathless moans slipping past the fruit perched against your lips, drawn out by the repeated pass of the wet, pink appendage lapping at the salt line between the valley of your breast. Committing your muffled moans to memory, he lapped persistently at the collection of salt and tequila in the hollow at the base of your neck.

You face flammed in embarrassment as panting moans effortlessly tumbled from your mouth. Who knew your chest and neck was such an erogenous spot. Despite your shame, you couldn't stop wriggling, shifting your thighs together for some form of friction to sate the rising arousal dampening your panties. You yelped at the sensation of blunt teeth nibbling at your skin before soft lips came to suck at the shallow indentations. Fluffy hair with an undercut came into your line of vision as Jungkook lifted his head up to your lips. Your heart stammered tortuously against your ribs, flirtatious eyes stared lidded with searing lust, his head advanced closer to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips puckering against the bitter hull of the lime.

Jungkook closed the distance, slanting his mouth over the lime, blocking his contact with yours. He sucked against the sour fruit, acidity puckering his lips, residual tartness flowing to your cracked lips. Jungkook withdrew from your mouth, taking the drained lime hull with it. Your saccharine moans were heaven to his ears. It had awoken something inside him, fueled his fire in knowing that possibly no one had ever heard such a sweet sound. He wanted more, craved more. 

"Have you ever been kissed before, sweetheart?" Your eyes followed the movement of his tongue, poking out to moistening his lips. 

"Yeah, once in like 3rd grade." Who hasn't snuck behind a tree or hid underneath the dark coverings of playground equipment to lock lips with a childhood crush?

He grinned salaciously, body moving to rest between your spread legs. Oh, now he was really excited. Your lips were practically untouched. Just another part of your body to claim first. You jumped when palms pressed flat against the revealed skin of your thigh. Gently, Jungkook rubbed lazy circles on your skin, never lowering or furthering than the hem of your dress. He felt you wiggle beneath his hands, observed your eyes, glimpsing―darting about, should you concentrate on his face, or his hand, uncertainty was etched on your face.

"Amazing." He groaned, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, before grinning again. His face inched closer to yours, his lips but a breath apart, warmth flickered against your lips as he talked, level and smooth. " Well, how about I become your second?

And then his lips were on you, the soft muscle mangled itself to your lips, tentative and sluggish to give you a chance to register his mouth slanted upon yours. Jungkook chuckled against your lips at your unresponsiveness. He guesses you were a little shell shocked. It only takes a few more stagnant seconds before you're shyly reciprocating his kiss. Delicate, shaky movements highlighted your inexperience. Increasingly, Jungkook increased the pressure behind lips, his hands spreading to enclose around your waist, dragging you closer against him. One of Jungkook's hands removed from your waist to bury itself in your hair, gently his fingernails scratched against your scalp, an airy moan was his reward. 

Hands completely abandoning your midsection, one gripped the meat of your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the table, flush against the tent of his denim jean encased manhood, the other embedded in your strands pulled sharply on your roots, a loud gasp tearing from you. Jungkook took that opportunity to advance his tongue into your gaped mouth. His tongue wrapped itself around yours, briefly wrestling for dominance before easily pinning your tongue in submission. His hips ground against yours, the heat of your covered core teased him through his jeans. 

He thoroughly explored your mouth, swallowing the now copious cries leaving your mouth. Reluctantly, Jungkook tore himself from your kiss-swollen lips. The ravished looked suited you perfectly. You looked beautiful, thighs brazenly spread, eyes glazed over in lust, your sticky chest heaving from the length of the shared kiss. Even in the dim lights, he could make out the taunt pebbling of your nipples. 

Your mouth gaped wide, flapping about like a fish out of water, trying despairingly to draw air into your lungs. Your first kiss definitely didn't compare to this much. Your wide eyes flicked between Jungkook and the floor, your bottom lip tucked firmly between your teeth, feeling shy as he just stares at you. Releasing your teeth from your lips, you timidly touched your mouth, admiring how plump they've gotten from the intense liplock.

Wordlessly Jungkook hitched you over his shoulder, winded with a grunt as his defined shoulder blades dug into your stomach and what sounded like a growled vibrate up into you. You squirmed lightly in his hold, scared he was going to drop you, and secondly, your panty-clad ass on display for the party-goers, not that anyone was looking. 

You watched the continuous panels of hardwood floor move beneath you as Jungkook carried you to an unknown destination. You couldn't believe you were really doing this. Were you actually going to have sex with a complete stranger? Someone who was known for explicitly fucking virgins. Realistically, you should be ashamed, yet, you conceded full control to him without a second thought. What did that say about you? About your character? Would you now be labeled as 'easy' or a 'hoe' after all this was done? What was going to happen between you and Jungkook? 

The flick of a switch stirred from your thoughts. You shield your eyes with your hand at the bright lights pouring into the room, or rather a bathroom. Jungkook loved the confusion marring your features. He wouldn't fuck you in his bedroom just yet. That was a privilege you would have to earn, no matter how intrigued he had become with you. There's always humiliation to be had in the corruption of innocence, and fucking you in the bathroom was a good start. He planned on making you watch him as he destroyed your body, popping your cherry, stretching your tight virginal hole to accommodate his length, and claimed it as his own. Jungkook shuddered at the thought, his possessive nature taking a turn for the worst. 

Impatiently Jungkook sat you on top of the bathroom sink counter, his lips smashed against yours, the previous tenderness was gone, vanished into a puff of smoke. Teeth banged, and tongues flailed recklessly against each other in the heat of passion, with you struggling to keep up with the demands of his dominating kiss. Thick fingers trailed beneath the hem of your dress, tickling the expanse of your thighs. Jungkook wasted no time in shifting your slick soaked panties to the side, a warm digit gliding effortlessly through your damn folds.

"Fuck, you're already so wet. You're enjoying this a little too much, baby girl." Jungkook growled, panting against your lips. His finger breached your sex, you tensed deftly around the foreigner intrusion, stretching your weeping walls. 

"Ah, Jungkook." You cried listlessly, rocking your hips against his stilled finger. He felt so good inside you, and it was just his finger. Maybe this experience wouldn't be as bad as you heard. Now you couldn't wait to see what his cock felt like embedded deep within your pussy. Jungkook pumped slowly, eventually introducing a second finger to help loosen you up more. You were gonna be a tight fit, very tight, but that just made it even better. You hissed at the slight burn as he began scissoring his fingers apart with each withdrawal. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you buried your head against his broad chest, your mellifluous moans suppressed by the fabric of his shirt. 

"G-go faster, please." You begged, your body adjusting and quickly becoming frustrated by the snail's pace his fingers were pumping. You bucked your hips against his hands, hoping he would ease the growing discomfort boiling in your stomach. 

"Have you ever had an orgasm before, babe?" You nodded eagerly at his question, whining as you bucked against his hand again.

"Oh, really? Who gave it to you." Slow, he was going too slow you wanted, no you needed more friction, more stimulation from him.

"M-me. I-i did." Jungkook loved how you stuttered, it stroked his ego and filled him with arrogance to know it was him, and only that was capable of making you stumble over your words.

"Mmm, and how did you do it? Did you rub this little clit of yours raw?" You cried louder when his thumb flicked at your clit, the stimulation further drawing the appendage from its hood.

"Or did you fuck this tight hole, with these tiny fingers of yours?" At those words, a loud, choked moan, even muffled by your face in his chest, echoed throughout the white bathroom. Jungkook had gone deeper inside, almost to the third knuckle. Another moan left your lips as he twisted his fingers inside you, his palm now facing upwards.

"Though you and I bought know they couldn't possibly reach deep enough to touch the spot you really want." It's euphoric, no better yet orgasmic, the sheer shock of electric pleasure that zaps through your body when he finds the spongy bundle of nerves. Your body jerked heavily, legs go to snap close, only to be stopped by his broad body between your thighs.

He chuckles softly, stroking your thigh with his other hand. Jungkook shifts his head down, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He exhales quietly, warm air tinged with tequila and lime caresses the light hairs on you around your ear. " I found it, huh?"

You whimper, rubbing your head up and down against his chest.

"You want me to speed up the pace, sweetheart?" Jungkook's voice is delicate now, so gentle. But you're confused, overwhelmed, and scared. It's never felt like this when you did it yourself. Your not sure if you could handle the feeling, so you don't provide an answer to Jungkook's question.

"Don't ignore me ____, that's not nice manners. I'll ask again." You clench around his fingers as Jungkook inches just a bit deeper. 

"Do you. Want me. To go faster?" With each pause, he arches his fingers in a 'come here' motion, pressing deeply against your bundle of nerves, the sensation of having to pee accompanied with each thrust.

 "Y-yes, faster, more. Pl-lease." Fuck, you sounded so pretty begging for him if he wasn't addicted before. You had him sprung now. Jungkook buried his face in the crook of your neck, the sharp smell of tequila and salt still lingering on your skin. He sucked at the junction where your shoulder and neck met. You bucked harder against his fingers, your juices now dripping to coat his palm is sticky cream.

"If you wanted more. Why didn't you just ask?" Jungkook said deviously. Confused, you felt withdraw his sticky digits, walls gripping to stop their departure. Without warning, Jungkook flipped you over onto the counter, your knees buckled at the sudden change in position. Your faced burning at your displayed state, droplets of your essence dribbled from your pussy, slicking up your inner thighs. You yelped as Jungkook grasped at the length of your hair, pulling back pointedly, your neck craned back to observe him addressing you in the mirror.

"You've been wondrous for me ____. Such a sweet girl." He expressed, his empty hand disappearing behind your perked ass to fiddle with the groin of his pants. 

"Truly, you have. Your response and reactions to my touch have really gotten me riled up. It's been a while since I've tittered on the edge of losing control." You wheezed, starting to panic as you felt the thick head of his cock slap teasingly against your slicked throbbing hole. Oh, God, he's huge. Jungkook's cock might just tear you apart. You shifted your hips forward, pressing against the cold marble of the bathroom counters door.

"I-i don't think, I can t-take it Jungkook, you're too b-big. It's my first-time, r-remember?” Your stuttering worse now, but you're scared.

Jungkook pulls your hips back with the hand the was grasping his length, the side of your hip now coated in his pre-cum. His hand lays flat in the crease of your back, forcing you into a perfect arch. 

"You can take it, all of it. And don't worry, of course, I remembered your fragility. I'll go slow, I promise." You plead silently with your eye contact through the mirror. 

"You ready?" You nod once an advert your eyes down to the sink.

Your mouth shakily falls agape as he slowly began pushing the head of his cock into you. It burns, but not as bad as you had anticipated. You take the chance to look back up into the mirror, adamant about giving Jungkook a thankful smile for his gentleness. That vision that greets looks like it jumped right off the page of your favorite erotic story. 

Jungkook's got his head thrown back, the edge of his t-shirt clenched tightly between his teeth, your eyes trail the drip of sweat that follows the curve of his jawline. You have a clear view of his abs all the way down to the v-cut of his hip, to the happy trail that leads to a neatly trimmed bush of pubic hair. You clench tightly around him, efficiently aroused by the view. You feel his cock throbbed heavily inside you, even getting bigger if possible.

"You like that, sweet girl? You like seeing me struggling to contain myself because you're so tightly around me. This little pussy trying to milk me for all I can give you." You love it. You feel powerful in a way. Do you really feel that good around him?

"Yes." Jungkook draws out the 'S.' 

"You feel amazing, so warm and wet. I wished you could see how coated in white you've got me, and I'm not even all the way in yet."

You scream soundless as he bucks into you, shoving in half of his length. It doesn't hurt anymore. You just feel stuffed full. Lifting a trembling hand, you take the chance a feel the lower part. You noticed swelling that wasn't there before, intrigued; you push down against it, moaning in shock you realize it's Jungkook's cock. 

"Yeah, baby girl, that's all me, well, most of me. You ready to take the rest?"

"Yes! Please!" That's the clearest you've been all night. You don't get an answer as Jungkook immediately picks up his pacing, thrusting into you faster. He wastes no time pumping deeply into your tight pussy, his tip smashing against the entrance to your cervix as you pant and grit your teeth in slight discomfort, overshadowed by pleasure. The burning sensation is back as he fucks in deeper with each brutal and swift stroke. But you don't care cause it still feels amazing. You can hear yourself, sloppy and soaking wet, echoing throughout the bathroom. You're drooling down his pistoning cock. You can feel it dripping down your inner thighs. Your head jerks violently against your shoulders, to weak support your head from his menacing thrust. 

Tightened vocal cords released strained shrieks of praise; from your mouth, drool dripping from your lips, into the sticky cleavage of your breast, and sweat coated your skin. The coil in your stomach was quickly tightening, never had you felt anything so deep inside you. If you ever had sex with anyone else, they would never compare to Jungkook.  You were fucked both figuratively and literally.

Jungkook pulled you further from off the sink, the new position allowing him even deeper. You clawed at the marble tops underneath your fingers, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. That sensation of having to pee is back again.

"J-K, I-m. I have to-," You don't get to finish as the band in your stomach snapped. Silently you announced your release; if it wasn't for the new wave of cum coating his cock, or the fluttering tightness of your walls, Jungkook might have missed your orgasm. He wasn't far behind you. The constant clenching of your ridged walls around his cock, had him reaching his limit sooner than he would like. Jungkook had half a mind to pull out but decided to gamble his odds. You're the first person he's fucked raw in a while, and with three deep thrusts later, he was shooting his hot seed right against your cervix. 

Breathing heavily, Jungkook lets you fall against the sink, observing as you crumpled against the sink countertop. Pride swelled his chest as he watched his seed bubble out of your well-used hole. He's never contemplated going farther with the virgins he fucked. He wouldn't make any hasty decisions now though there were still a lot of things he wanted to do with you. He would sleep on it and revisit the idea in the morning.

"So would you say, Operation: Pop Your Cherry was a success?"

You giggled, winded, still having difficulty catching your breath. You straighten up against the bathroom counter, the majority of your weight still resting on the object as you had yet to regain the feeling in your legs.

"Jimin and his stupid code names. I swear when I get a hold ass, he's dead." You warned already preparing your revenge on your best friend. You stare at Jungkook in the eyes through the mirror, smile a bit goofy, you say.

"Operation: Pop My Cherry. Mission complete."