#this video in my inbox this morning was the best thing ever

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

Miles Kane One Man Band tour announcement 🖤

[jo6o]

STARDEW LOVELY | drabble.

pairing: pablo gabi x fem!reader

author’s note: thank you for reading my first ever work here <3 kinda nervous to post this here, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless. if you happen to like this, make sure to request something on my inbox!

summary: gavi gets jealous of your ‘new boyfriend’. even if he isn’t real.

wc: 849 words (or something like that)

warnings: slightly suggestive, some pet names in spanish, a weird concept really lol, i didn’t proof read this

It was roughly 5PM, about 8 hours since you woke up. As soon as you opened your eyes that morning, you sensed that it was the perfect day to enjoy a nice day in. The gloomy sky casting over the outside landscape alerted you that it was going to be cold with probable rain, so you made a mental note to wear warm clothes even though you weren’t necessarily leaving the house.

You looked over to the side, smiling giddily at the sight of your boyfriend sleeping beside you. You chuckle at his disheveled state. Messy hair pointing in all different directions with slightly parted lips, soft snores escaping here and there. You kiss his forehead lightly so as not to wake him up as you undo yourself from his embrace, ready to start the day.

As you drink your usual morning coffee, you wonder on the best activity to spend the day. Figuring that Gavi would sleep until late as he usually did since his injury induced break, you thought it would be better to do something by yourself for now. And that’s how you end up curled up on your couch, your favorite blanket covering you with some snacks laying on your side and your computer swiftly propped on your lap with the newest addition to your library, Stardew Valley, playing on the screen.

‘Only a few minutes’ quickly turned into a few hours, and before you noticed, you had already spent most of your day playing. Gavi was long forgotten, as he had woken up a while ago and you hadn’t even bothered to give him a ‘good morning’s kiss or even noticed that he was now sitting next to you, trying to get your attention for the past 15 minutes.

“Hermosa.” He stared at you attentively, a small frown on his lips. He saw how you stuck your tongue out in concentration and would coo at how adorable you looked if he weren’t so annoyed by you. Upon getting no reaction once again, he sighed, shuffling closer to you. It was only when he lightly shook your arm that you finally looked at him.

“Oh, morning guapo. I didn’t even notice you there.” You gave him a quick smile before turning back to the screen. He scoffed, mumbling a quick ‘of course you didn’t’ under his breath. Seeing as your attention was now back in the game, he pouted.

“Can you turn that off for a bit, princesa? Please?” He turns his body fully at you, focusing his gaze on your lips. “I miss you.”

Your face softens at the sight of him, turning yourself in his direction. Gavi could be the most adorable human being when he wanted to. As opposing to his aggressive persona on the pitch. You raise one of your hands up to his cheek, tracing light patterns on his skin with your thumb. He instinctively leans against your touch, moving just enough to kiss the palm of your hand.

“Sure thing, cariño. I just need to finish up and give this tulip to Sam.” His eyebrows furrow in confusion. Give what to who?

“Who's Sam?” You could see the confused frown on his face from your peripheral vision, laughing softly at his puzzled state.

“My game boyfriend! You know, my bachelor.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him, pointing at the small blonde pixel figure on your screen. You went on explaining about how hard you had worked to get that many hearts with Sam, your routine around the farm and you were looking to find all the perfect gifts for him.

Gavi couldn’t help but deadpan at you as you rambled about your little game crush, a feeling of jealousy bubbling in his chest. How was he jealous of a video-game character? Deciding he had had enough, he scoffed. Pulling your laptop away from your lap as you talk away, his eyes never leave your lips.

Suddenly, you feel your body getting lifted up from the couch as a squeal leaves your lips. You gently crash on Gavi’s lap with his arms snaked around your waist possessively, the only thing separating your bodies being the blanket that was previously sitting on your lap, now all crumpled between you.

“How about you pay some attention to your actual boyfriend? Hm?” He peppers sweet kisses to your cheeks and nose, before lowering slightly to the corner of your mouth. You feel your breath hitching in your throat as his innocent pecks now turn into hungry kisses as he nibbles on the skin of your neck. You instinctively lock your hands at the nape of his hair tugging at it lightly. He smirks at your actions, pulling back slightly to get a look at your pretty face.

“Missed me too, hermosa?” You nod in response, pressing a sweet peck to his cheek. He smiles in return, locking eyes with yours. It takes one look into his beautiful honey eyes for you to give in and close the space between you two. He melts into the touch of your lips on his, hands hovering over your ass. You smile as you pull away.

“Now this is better.”

[scp230kinnie]

I saw you opened your inbox🙏 I love your hatter hcs so I was wondering, could you make short relationship hcs for more of the characters? Like niragi or chishiya? Thx much

AHSHSHSH YESSS OFC

I present to you all

Alice in Borderland character relationship Headcanons

Part one

Warnings: possible Alice in Borderland spoilers ⚠️ mentions of death/blood (GN READER)

Genre: fluff

Characters: Arisu, Karube, Chota, Usagi, Chishiya, Niragi

Arisu Ryohei

He’s so cute I can’t even

He loves to hold your hands anywhere you go, no matter what you’re doing

I think his hands would be so cold. I mean you would think they would be sweaty or something cuz he’s always nervous but like still.

He does not care if anyone teases him about your little relationship

Gives you cute corny nicknames like Honey, sweetheart, or my love

His favorite place to kiss you is anywhere on your face. He just thinks you’re the cutest being ever.

He begs you to play video games with him All. The. Time.

When you agree to play with him he gets so excited

He’s pretty good so he goes easy on you

If he sees you in any of his clothes he blushes so hard

Love language is quality time

He would try so hard to keep you from Niragi

After the seven of hearts game, he probably would want you to join games with him, but he knows you probably should

Just stay with him and listen to his strategies in games and you will be fine.

He likes to think he knows what he’s doing in a relationship but he’s wrong

He is never jealous he doesn’t care

Daikichi Karube

Arm basically superglued over you shoulders at all times

He thinks your laugh is the most amazing thing ever he. It could be the last thing he ever heard and he would be happy

Favorite place to kiss is your lips, of course

Not a fan of when you was his clothes or jewelry but will get you your own and douse it with his cologne if you want

Love language is for sure also quality time

He will hold your hand but like in his pocket so your hand stays warm

He calls you “babe”. Unless you’re upset, then he would try to cheer you up by giving you increasingly more stupid nicknames until you laugh

Will beat up anyone for you

He doesn’t like it when you watch him get into fights, but he loves it when you help clean up his wounds

He would probs share cigarettes with you if you wanted him to

He likes it when you hang around at his bar

He probably doesn’t go to a barber, and would get you to cut his hair instead

He doesn’t care how it looks, he loves you regardless

Chota Segawa

This beautiful man is so cute

He is genuinely so touch deprived if you hug him for long/hard enough he will cry undoubtedly

His favorite part of your body is your face obviously he could stare at it forever

Favorite Place to kiss is your nose ❤️

If you wear any of his clothes he would probably scream honestly

He loves it when you two can just relax when he gets back from work

His love language is gift giving <3

If he finds something he thinks you might like he gets it immediately

He probably has no relationship experience so he wants to keep you forever

I don’t think he would actually give you a nickname, he would just use your name

His hands are also really cold and he has like a death grip on your hands when he holds them

He doesn’t really get jealous, just insecure. Like if somebody is flirting with you he is scared you will leave him for them

Random, but He doesn’t have a favorite song

He loves when you come visit him at work. If he gets in trouble, he just kinda brushes it off

He wants to hold you 25/8 even though he can’t

Overall I feel like he is really chill, but would do anything for you if you asked

Yuzuha Usagi

She’s amazing literally

She would convince you to work out and go on runs with her

Even if your not a morning person, she tries to convince you to come with her

She loves to protect you during games. She truly will try her best

She knows it might be hard for you to keep up with her, but she wants you to stay close to her, to keep you safe of course

Don’t wear her clothes lol she doesn’t like it that much but she wouldn’t tell you

If anything she likes to take your clothes

She likes to kiss your forehead ofc

Her love language is words of affirmation!! She absolutely loves dropping them randomly

She could talk to you about anything for hours. Even when she’s not talking, she lives to hear your voice.

She also loves your smile and laugh

She never shows it but she does get really jealous

Someone else starts flirting with you and she will start giving them dirty looks for the rest of the day

Her hands are so nice

Not really manicured but still just naturally pretty

She has a few cuts and callouses on her hands from mountain climbing tho

She lives when you like gently rub her shoulders when she’s stressed

She will for sure take you mountain climbing

Some place a little safer tho cuz she doesn’t want you to get hurt

Probably won’t give you a cute nickname, just a shortened version of your name (if you have one

Hc that she listens to 90s rock music

She gives amazing hugs no words at all

Shuntaro Chishiya

He’s so gorgeous

He’s not the most like open person ever but he tries his best with you

Doesn’t do PDA but in private he loves to just lay with you in silence

Warm hands I mean they’re always in his damn pockets

Favorite Place to kiss you is your forehead, but he likes getting them more

He likes when you play with his hair

He doesn’t like when you wear his clothes, but sometimes when he’s bored he will like spray some of his cologne (or whatever he uses) on you

He teases you so much it’s kinda cute

Kuina teases both of you 🙁

If you braid his hair he would like go crazy

His love language is quality time

During games he wants you to stay with him and listen to everything he says

He wants you to go along with his plans, and that means you have to be fine with some sacrificing

He’s not jealous but he doesn’t like when you talk to Niragi/ vice versa

He probably has his ears pierced

I think he knows how to play guitar

He lets you cut his hair (and help him re bleach it💀)

When he holds your hands, he also does the pocket thing

His main priority is making sure you’re safe

He doesn’t understand your humor im so sorry

Lmao do his eyeliner he loves it

Suguru Niragi

Okay let’s pretend he didn’t do all that stuff for a hot minute

Let’s also pretend he wasn’t literally lit on fire and thrown off a building

Always has an arm over your shoulders or waste at any point

He would actually kill for you, like no joke

He gets extremely jealous and literally tried to kill anyone who looks at you the wrong way

His favorite Place to kiss you is your neck

He doesn’t really have a love language, more or less just does whatever

If you don’t wear his clothes on your own, he will probably like ask you to (he’s not asking, he’s demanding)

If you let him, he would give you piercings

He doesn’t hold your hands or show very much PDA, he thinks it makes him seem weaker and more vulnerable

He’ll teach you how to shoot a gun

Gives the worst nicknames every in srs

Calls you like “bitch” or something (in a loving way)

He teases you so bad

During the witch hunt he would get you to join his team or whatever it was

Like everyone else, he does his best to protect you during games

His hands are really rough but they’re still nice

It might not seem like it, but he hates getting into fights with you, especially when he knows he’s wrong but he could never admit it

If you beg for long enough I like to think he would let you put eyeliner on him if you make it look good (I want to see it tbh)

You make him want to be a better person

Alright that’s it thanks for reading guys

Let me know who you want in part two, and I’ll maybe even do a part 3

Sorry if it was cringe I was bored and in class lol

[clumsiestgiantess]

35 for the prompt list please 🙏

FINALLY got around to the prompt that’s been sitting in my inbox for quite a while!  Anon, wherever you are, I didn’t forget you!

Prompt list here if you want me to write with another prompt!

[The Walls Won’t Be There Forever universe X “You’re treating me like a pet!” prompt]

It’s not like I wanted a little mouse person pet.  Sure they’re really cute, but I had my hands full already.  Even with their charming little appearance, I was content to watch videos of them on the internet and see pictures of them in adorable outfits skyrocketing in popularity.  If I were to get any pet, I wanted something that would be a bit more self-sufficient, not something that required almost as much care and attention as a person.  Yet, about a month or two after that conclusion, I was walking in the door of my apartment with a little cardboard box in tow.  Inside it was a tiny humanoid creature I didn’t intend on buying even that very morning.

I’ve had Vex, my mouse person, for about three months now.  He’s my little guy — my cute tiny man I picked up at the pet store where my friend worked, because she’d told me they were putting him down.  He’d lashed out and bit one clumsy little kid and suddenly he was served a death sentence.  I didn’t think that was fair in the slightest, so I took him home.  

For the longest time, he made a gigantic fuss whenever I tried to interact with him.  He’d hiss at me or refuse to acknowledge me.  He’d dodge my hand as long as he could when I tried to pick him up.  Yet, weirdly enough, he never tried to bite me once.  That was the very first sign I got that told me he was smart.  Somehow, he knew his little life had hung precariously for a moment all because he’d bitten someone.  

I knew he was smarter than he tried to let on the moment I got him.  He kept coming up with the cleverest things, and while we couldn’t directly communicate with eachother, he created little gestures to get me to understand what he wanted.  Sometimes, it felt like he was trying to train me.

While I didn’t want the responsibility, I knew he deserved better than a half-assed attempt to care for him.  I brought him home to ensure he was safe.  If he wasn’t safe with me, then I doubt he would ever feel safe at all.  So, I did my best to care for him.  While I couldn’t get the specialized pet food for him, I still gave him plenty to eat of my own meals.  And, while he had no little toys of his own size to play with, I tried to keep him entertained by letting him loose in the house from time to time.  He was under careful surveillance by me, of course, but he rarely tried anything that would get him into trouble.

I knew — I thought — he couldn’t understand me, but regardless I would talk to him about things whenever I was bored.  The second sign of his underestimated intelligence was that he listened to me attentively.  You could tell just through his expressions that he was absolutely absorbing and understanding what I was telling him.  For the longest time I could’ve sworn I was just imagining things that he didn’t really intend to do, but sometimes, especially on days when I would come home frustrated with just about everything, he’d willingly let me hold him until I calmed down.  I thought it was instinct or something — like how dogs and cats can sense their owner’s stress and calm them.  Turns out it was a bit more than that.  

Of course, the final and most suspicious thing was the whole list of rudimentary gestures he created for me to understand him.  I rationalized that other animals use body language to try to communicate what they want with people, but Vex was fully aware of what the thumbs up sign meant, or the middle finger for that matter.  That last one I didn’t really appreciate him knowing, but what was I supposed to do?  I certainly didn’t teach it to him.

At last, just an hour ago, after I set Vex on my desk so I could watch him while working on my laptop, he gestured for me to give him my attention, and spoke.  

“So.. don’t be mad or freak out, but I- I could understand you this whole time,” he finished hastily, bracing himself for something to happen.  All I could do was sit there, mouth agape.  “I- I know this is probably a lot for you,” Vex continued cautiously, “But I just- I couldn’t keep you in the dark anymore.”  “WHAT?!” I yelped, causing him to double over with his hands clasped against his ears.  “YOU SERIOUSLY COULD HAVE BEEN TALKING TO ME THIS ENTIRE TIME?!”  My heart thrummed in my ears the same way it would be when I’m terrified.  I think I am terrified!  The little mouseish pet is speaking to me!  

“Wait!” Vex yelped, “Just hear me out!”  “WHY DID YOU GET ME TO MEMORIZE YOUR ENTIRE DICTIONARY OF GESTURES IF YOU COULD’VE SPOKEN?!”  “Alright, alright, stop yelling!”  He nearly had to shriek to be heard over my voice.  “Please!  It hurts my ears.”  Immediately, I shut myself up.  Sure I was mad and a bit frightened, but I wasn’t going to deafen him for it.  “Ok, sorry.  Is this better?”  He nodded, cautiously taking his hands off his head.

“Heather, I’m trusting you with this.  No one’s supposed to know we can talk.  Just try to calm down, ok?  I get it, I’ve been lying and kiiiinda manipulating you, but you have to understand!  If we’re found out to be intelligent, we’ll never stop being seen as an oddity by you humans.  You’ll keep us locked up forever!”  Vex wasn’t wrong, but I was still shaken by the fact that he wasn’t only talking, he knew my name.  He knows.. a lot about me, actually.  He’s been listening to everything I’ve talked to him about; he’s sat with me and comforted me, albeit silently.  

Oh shit.  He’s actually seen and heard just about everything I do.  My face paled, hands rising to my mouth in horror.  I get undressed in here.  I hadn’t thought much of it.  He had little clothes, but those were put on him by the pet store.  I didn’t think his little animal-esqe kind even bothered with clothing.  “Umm, are you ok?” Vex asked me, gesturing to my horrified expression.  “What have you seen me do?” I asked quietly, dreading the answer.  His face flushed a deep crimson red — all the answer I really needed.  “W- Well, umm.  It was your choice to do those things in front of me.”

“But you’re just supposed to be a pet, not some.. weird tiny human!” I gasped, “I- I didn’t think you actually understood what anything meant!”  Vex’s embarrassed expression rapidly became a scowl.  “That’s not fair!  You’re treating me like a pet!”  “But.. you are a pet.”  “No I’m not!”  I wrinkled up my nose in angry confusion.  “I bought you from the pet store.”  “So?”  “What do you mean ‘so’?  It says live pet right on the side of your carrier!” I countered.  “Well, I didn’t put that there!” he cried in outrage.  “If I stuck a sign on your door that said ‘psycho abusive human lives here’, that doesn’t mean it’s true!”  

My anger was suddenly struck down with immense concern.  “Wait.. you think I’m abusive?” I asked worriedly, “I- I’m so sorry!  What did I do?  Whatever it is, I’ll stop doing it.  I promise.”  Vex’s anger also seemed to fizzle out.  He blinked, turning to stare up at me with wide eyes.  “What?  No!  You’ve been fine!  That was just an example; it’s not what I actually think of you!” he explained, “I was trying to find something that obviously wasn’t true to make my point.  Just because I call you it doesn’t mean it’s true.  You calling me a pet…  It hurts the same way, understand?”

It’s like he’s teaching me again, but I do understand.  “Ok, I’ll stop calling you that.. and treating you like that.  I’m so so sorry.  If I’d known-”  “If you knew, I would’ve been terrified of you.  I’m glad you came to care for me without knowing about me.  It’s.. reassuring in a backwards way — knowing you’d treat something you didn’t think was this closely human in an almost human way.  That’s kinda why I decided to tell you about all this.”  I edged closer to him again, carefully watching his expression to see if I was welcome.  Surprisingly, he stepped a bit closer to me.

In cautious increments, we moved towards eachother.  I hadn’t been that slow with him since the first week after I took him home.  Once we were nearly touching, I reached behind him and gently guided him over, pulling him close to my chest.  He stiffened beneath my hand, but this wasn’t the first time we’d done this — just the first time since he’d told me the unbelievable truth.  Usually, it was me he was comforting — letting me hold him to myself for comfort like a living stuffed animal.  However, this time it was him who was shaking.

“Hey, it’s alright, Vex.  I’ll keep your secret,” I assured him quietly.  “I just.. can’t believe it.  You’re.. fully sentient.”  He shuffled in my grasp and I gently let him go.  Taking a step back, he craned his head vertically up to look at me.  “Thanks, that- that means a lot to me.  I’ve been trying to work up the courage to tell you for a while now.  I was really scared you’d throw me out for hiding it from you.”  I sighed, “No, if anything, I’d throw you out for sitting there watching me.  I fucking get dressed in here; I’ve seen you, just sitting there like you were oblivious to it.”

Vex stumbled backwards slightly, falling out of my grasp, face turning a bit red again.  “Well, if I reacted it would blow my cover!  And, again, you chose to do that in front of me.”  “It’s my bedroom!” I retorted, “And you could’ve at least turned away!”  “I did at first!  But it happens so often I kinda.. got used to it, I guess.”  I groaned, burying my face in my hands.  “Thank god you didn’t have a tiny camera with you.  Unless you’re hiding that, too?”  Vex quickly shook his head as I glanced over at him.  We sat there in momentary silence as I calmed down.  

“I’ll uhh.. I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine?” he offered eventually.  At the absurdity of his question and the situation, I fell into laughter.  “Sure, Vex.  Just stop doing it now that I know, ok?”  “Of course.  I- I didn’t mean to.”  I knew it wasn’t exactly his fault.  I was the one who locked him up here after all.  He kept glancing at me until I found myself staring him down.  “What is it?” I asked, suspicious — afraid of something else he might’ve seen that I’d forgotten.  “It’s just.. my name isn’t actually Vex.  You gave me that name, remember?”  “Oh!  That’s right!  I didn’t even realize.”  He shrugged, “It’s alright, I like Vex.  It’s a good nickname.”  “What about your real name?”  “Salt,” he stated.  “Wh- What?” I stammered, “Your name is Salt?  Actually?”  “Something wrong with that name?” he asked, voice rising defensively.  

Are all borrower names that strange?  I heard that they were named after brands and appliances — stuff you could find in most households.  But salt?  That’s a mineral.  Though, I guess it is something you’d find in a house.  “Salt.  Ok, then.  I just wasn’t expecting that.”  “Expecting something more humanish?” he asked with a smirk.  “No,” I replied, shrugging off my embarrassment, “It’s unique is all.”  We were quiet for a moment, each of us cautiously examining the other in a new light.

“So, umm.. now that you know…”  Salt — no, I’ll just call him Vex — said slowly.  “Do I still have to live in that box?” he asked, pointing to the little glass cage on the shelf beside me.  “Oh, goodness no!” I gasped, “Please find anywhere you like to set up a place for yourself, just try not to be directly in the way of anything, ok?”  He nodded enthusiastically.  “Yes!  I- I will!  I mean- I won’t?  You know what I mean.”  I chuckled and shooed him off, watching as he expertly scaled the handles of my drawers down to the floor.

I followed Vex around the rest of the evening, carrying all of his things for him while he raced around the apartment, searching for the perfect hidden nook to settle in.  He was stuck between three different places about an hour past the time I’m supposed to be in bed, so I told him to either hurry up or decide tomorrow.  Finally, after the fourth time begging him to make up his mind, I decided for him.  Gently sweeping him up off his feet, I carried him in cupped hands down the hall to my room as he protested that he would’ve made the decision in only a few more minutes.

Snuggling down under the covers of my bed, I placed him on a pillow beside mine, turning on my side to face him.  He froze up, then slowly sat upright, turning to stare over at me.  “Wh-?”  “I wasn’t going to make you sleep in that cage,” I told him, replying to the confused half-word he’d uttered.  “If you don’t like being so close to a- a human, I can move the pillow to the floor.”  “N-No!” Vex replied hastily, “This is.. This is fine.  It’s a lot more comfortable than the little plastic hutch I had.”

Guilt sunk into my chest knowing that I’d made him suffer through a warped pethood.  “I’m sorry.”  “Don’t be.  Seriously.  I’m not holding any grudges.  You only did that because I made you believe certain things about myself that weren’t true — to protect myself.  Neither of us are in the wrong.”  I nodded, letting out a relieved breath.  “You’re right.  Goodnight Ve- er.. Salt.”  “Just call me Vex,” he said happily, laying down on the pillow so he sunk halfway into it.  “It sounds cooler than Salt, anyways.”

[artdcnaldson]

just saw that ask abt dad patrick………. much to think about. i agree that he prob would never want to be a dad. but….. let me share to you my secret brain au……. that i think about on the clock when im bored as fuck 😝

you… art… patrick… (sorry tashi i love u i swear….) mayb this is the same au where ur all best friends in school etc etc. maybe not. but ANYWAYS. the throuple…….. you and art end up having a baby. patrick’s perfectly fine just being uncle pat. or. like the weird guy who hangs around all the time. same thing. you like, say that it can be like. art is dad patrick’s papa or SOMETHING yk… like you love them both patrick’s gonna be around forever anyways why not just. have them both be referred to as dad. patrick isn’t super fond of the idea so you drop it whatever. ANYWAYS flash forward to a few weeks after the baby is born. patrick has been so like 😐 about the baby. kinda jealous annoyed etc cause he’s 12. it’s fine. whatever.

anyways sorry let me fucking GET TO THE POINT!!!!!!!!!!! you and art wake up one night kinda ?!? cause you hear talking on the baby monitor. and then you realize patrick’s not in the bed. you dont even remember hearing the baby cry or him getting up or anything cuz ur both. new parents. and patrick’s surprisingly helped a lot but. it’s not the same. WHATEVER i keep getting off track. u guys hear patrick cooing at your new little baby girl telling her that he loves her she’s lucky she has such good parents etc… turning on the video part u see him rocking her in the little chair you guys have in there. he’s so fascinated by her. he still doesn’t really… like the idea of being a dad or have any interest in it or whatevs but. a baby made by his two favorite people. he has to cry

sorry this was a fucking ESSAY!!!!!!!!! take me out back and shoot me i can’t do this anymore!!!!!!!!!!!

This had to cook in my inbox, had to simmer. I’m trying to go back and answer asks that have been sitting in my inbox that I meant to get back to <3 sorry for the delay babe <3

Sigh <333 uncle pat being the best pseudo-parent to you and art’s baby… after an adjustment period. Because for like that first month you and Art don’t have time for him, it’s like he’s being kicked to the side, discarded for the second time in his life. And he’s fucking sensitive about it, you know?

You and Art made him quit smoking when you got pregnant, which he understood. He hated it, but he understood, and he wasn’t going to vape like a fucking loser, so he’s irritable with it. A sixteen year habit culled painfully at the root. He hears the baby screaming and crying and just wants to go outside and smoke, wants to run away from it all.

It’s three in the morning when the baby crying wakes him up. He squints, reads his alarm clock, and groans. He glances over at you and Patrick, completely knocked out by exhaustion. He doesn’t want to bother you, doesn’t want you to have to wake up and go through the motions again. So he gets up and slips into the baby’s room.

She eases into his arms, quickly growing soothed in a comforting pair of arms, and he hushes her softly. He hasn’t been alone with her, not much. Just a sort of double-down instinct after you had suggested he get called dad by her too. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but it just makes him feel like a fraud. He spends a lot of time with you and Art feeling like he’s one wrong move from being out on his own. He didn’t want a kid relying on him when he knew he’d eventually fuck everything up.

“You just had a bad dream, huh?” Patrick coos softly. He kisses the baby’s soft, bald-ish head, takes a deep breath. He didn’t really get why you and Art were always smelling her hair, but he understands then. “Your dad used to have bad dreams too. Really bad dreams, but I was always there. I’ll be there for you too, alright? For anything you’ll ever need. No matter what.”

He settles into the plush rocking chair in the corner, holds her against his chest and rubs her back. Her eyes close, she nuzzles against him. She’s so beautiful. Usually, all babies look the same to him, but he can see you so clearly in her mouth, her eyes. And Art in her ears and nose. “You’re really lucky,” he says softly. He presses a kiss to her forehead. “You have such good parents, they’re really exhausted right now because you never sleep, but they’re doing so good, huh?”

She falls asleep in his arms, and he decides he’s never going to leave the chair. He kisses the top of her head and lets his lips twitch in a achy sort of smile. “We love you, kid.”

In the morning, once he’s placed her back in the crib and returns to bed, you and Art hold him a little closer.

[kyleighsturniolo]

THANK YOU MADISON ꨄ

introduction

————————————————————————

raelynn richardson isn’t a morning person whatsoever. but her best friend madison is filming her new music video, called ‘made you mine’, so she’s actually excited for this morning. madison and raelynn have been friends for years, and have experienced pretty much everything together.

this morning, madison informed raelynn that there would be three new people on set, all triplets. their names are nick, matt, and chris. this was kinda weird because usually on set it was just raelynn, madison, her boyfriend nick austin, a couple of her family members, and ofcourse her management and crew. but hey, raelynn likes meeting new people, maybe this would be a good thing!

raelynn heard about those triplets before, but i never really got to know them. they all seemed really cute, maybe raelynn can get to know them?

gotta go, bye.

a story in which madison introduces her bestfriend into her future lover.

————————————————————————

a/n: hii guys!! this is my first ever story on this platform. i’m very excited to start this series. please don’t hesitate to leave a message in my inbox if you like this prompt or if you just wanna talk baes ꨄ

𝐦𝐮𝐚𝐡.

[partially-controlled-chaos]

I was asked by both @beardedladyqueen and @thoughts-of-bear about 5 things that make me happy and my dumbass completely forgot these were in my inbox so I’m so sorry for the delay in actually answering. BUT with that being said, I finally have answers! Thank you both so much for the ask! ❤️

1. Spooky shit. I LOVE spooky shit. Halloween. Horror movies. Ghost stories. The paranormal. Graveyards. The occult. Everything. I was absolutely watching horror movies I should NOT have been watching at like 5 years old and “Friday Night Scary Movie Night” was a staple in my household. Popcorn, really poorly made B rated horror movie, staying up late, and trying to not get scared was a weekly thing and I miss having those movie nights. But because of that my love for anything spooky has bled into my adult life and now it’s just a way of life. So if you ever want to swap ghost stories I’ll be your best friend. 👻

2. Early mornings. I mean like that wonderfully quiet time between 3am and 5:30am. If it’s staying up that late or waking up that early (exception being when I have to wake up at that time for work), I love that time of night/early morning. Things are usually quiet and peaceful and it’s just a really nice time to kind of just exist without the hustle of daily life. As given by my username, my life can be absolutely chaotic at times so it’s nice to be able to have moments to just kind of be. And in relation to the above point, late nights mean spooky times. And as a side note, that time of morning in Animal Crossing New Horizons is amazing.

3. Relaxing in spring/fall weather. Kind of related to the above topic, but when I can’t be up in the super early mornings, I love sitting outside when it’s nice weather in spring or fall and just unwind. I don’t do it as much now because I don’t have a yard, but when I was a kid I loved just laying out in a hammock in nice weather and either take a nap or read. I could get a hammock for my back porch but if I did that I’d have to fight off a horde of spiders and I would just rather not.

4. Playing nostalgic (to me) games. So in addition to spooky movie nights, playing video games was HUGE in my house. My mom started playing Crash Bandicoot on PS1 in the ye olden days of 1996 so I grew up playing that and Spryo the Dragon mostly. So now when I have down time between other games I play or am super stressed, I’ll replay the hell out of those games. I was overjoyed when they did the trilogies of both games for PS4 so now I can play them whenever I want and it’s fantastic. My PS2 and all my games were stolen so for a long time I didn’t have the ability to play my favorite games, so when they were remastered for a system I owed it was the happiest day of my life. Also grew up on the Sly Cooper series that became an absolute obsession for me for a solid decade so when they remastered it for the PS3 I was in absolute heaven.

5. Writing fan fiction. So this is not something new for me, but it’s something I’ve rediscovered (thank you Baldur’s Gate 3). I wrote fan fiction yearsssss ago when I was in high school, so like…2011-2016 I think is when I stopped? Really I think I stopped in 2014 but according to the trusty fanfiction account I posted one thing in 2016? Anyway, not important. I stopped writing when I got into college because things because more hectic, I was busy, life was absolutely kicking my ass, and the fandom I wrote for was dying down so eventually I just lost the desire to write. But now that I’ve gotten settled as an adult and thanks to the glory that is BG3, I’ve regained the desire and want to write again and it’s honestly so, so nice. I can’t write as frequently as I did when I was in high school, but damn do I enjoy it. I’ve found it’s a way I can express myself in ways that I actually feel confident in what I do. I can’t draw to save my life, but I do feel that writing is where I can be creative and feel good about it. May not always be the best work, but I have fun doing it. I also love reading fan fiction. Reading how people take genres and reimagine them or completely twist it is always so fun so look into. Creativity for the win, my dudes.

Anyway, thank you again for asking me and I’m sorry it took so long to actually post this!

[sumire-no-nikki]

A Matter of Time

At the end of July I was gripped by a sudden fever.

It was the last Sunday of the month. I woke up quite late, had my morning coffee and set up the day’s work on the floor table. It was a very Summer Sunday. The air felt stale on my skin, constantly at the precipice of breaking out into sweat but not quite. It was a helpless time, a dull headache of a day.

I had been in the midst of organising my iMac, Macbook and a new SSD that day. I was facing the renaming and copying of hundreds of folders. It was quite a tedious task and I was restless. I needed a fix. And the thing is I knew exactly where I was headed that day. My imagination always gets the best me, and an idle mind is the devil's workshop, so they say. Reaching out to untouched corners of the past always requires some level of feigning ignorance to the consequences. I knew well enough that I would unravel something but my boredom overrode all discipline, all sense that day. So I found myself meandering through old folders filled with a past version of myself and people I knew in that unrecognisable life. Well, there has to be a truth to it—to the idea that the universe will continue to hurl the same lessons your way, each instance a more violent encounter, unless you learn from it. That Sunday came the final lesson.

Inside a folder named "2019," I found her waiting for me. My dear K, memories of her frozen there like no time had passed. There were screenshots of conversations, photos I recall having sent her. Seeing all of those again was the catalyst for Sunday’s foolhardiness.

I looked her name up, I looked her sisters’ names up. Nothing but old Facebook comments came up and there really was not much I could do at that point as I don’t use Facebook. This should have been the dead end but I’ve always been stubborn. The only thing it did was empower my craving.

So I dug up an old email correspondence. I’ve been avoiding doing this for nearly three years. With a split second decision I’ve undone all that control. The last message was from 2020 right before the worldwide lockdowns started. I had been talking about returning to Japan and she was talking about looking into getting an iPad. How innocent those days were.

I copied the email address I found and composed an email. In under eight hundred words I wrapped my well wishes, my love, my yearning. “Wishing you nothing but the best,” I signed it. I shut my laptop. I exhaled, only realising then that I had been holding my breath that entire time I was writing the email.

In the first few hours since I sent the email there was a heaviness. The problem is that I could not tell if what I had committed meant an end or a beginning. Have I truly mended the fraying edges, given myself closure, or have I ripped open a new wound instead?

Sometime during the following week my ever so efficient iPhone decided to notify me of the fact that I had sent the email a couple of days ago and I had not heard back. It prompted: “follow up” with a button on the top right as if it were that easy. I panicked. I was in a hurry to make it disappear from the screen. I swiped it into oblivion. I would not let myself read it again. In the end it was sad to see it there at the top of my inbox. I suppose that was the moment when I finally understood the reality that our friendship really has missed the last train for good.

It is funny to feel all this longing now because my friendship with K had been a terribly chaotic one.

I remember K as fun, emotionally sensitive and a daydreamer. I enjoyed the memes, the mindless jokes. I enjoyed her sisters always having a funny thing to say. I enjoyed the video calls. I’ve never fit in anywhere but they welcomed me in their circle. I was the honorary fourth sister. I appreciate that when I would be blocked by the loops of logic in my head K would point to my heart and ask about what that part of me had to say. She showed me a side to life that I had often written off. When I was so lost in the grind, never satisfied with the heights I climbed, she underlined the magnitude of my early emancipation, my scholarships and educational accomplishments. In those days I was never enough for myself, but for K I was everything. “You’re my star, my claim to fame,” she always told me. I let her read my honours thesis before anyone else. She tuned in to my undergraduate graduation livestream because I was giving the department valedictorian speech and I was going to be awarded the highest honour of the year. I had no one to attend my graduation. She showed up for me.

But she was also jealous, indirect and shortsighted. She seemed most present when I was going through a crisis, revelling at the realisation that I have problems that I can’t always solve. When I shared my successes she was almost avoidant. She came and went as she pleased, leaving me in the dark to wonder what I had done wrong. She had her sisters as allies at the end of the day, while I’m reminded that I will never truly be part of the family no matter how close I got. I couldn’t care less what her educational attainments were, really, but she certainly measured herself against me and I never knew what to do with myself in those moments. She had dropped out after her first year was stuck in a crammed home with an abusive mother, while I found my liberation as I cut my ties with my own toxic family and went on to pursue a post graduate degree. She told me it was hard for her to be my friend because my accomplishments made her feel small. She was three years older and yet she felt like I had done more with my life. She thought I was too perfect. I took it personally. Her words were weapons.

Being from a toxic household myself, I knew to pick up on the unsaid, the passive aggressive. I knew desperation as an instinct and I held on to everything because I know the taste of favour withdrawn. I sought to earn her approval because then I only understood worth as something to achieve. I contorted into shapes that comforted her. I tiptoed around the good things that happened to me, wary to share them. My good news meant bad news to her after all, and that meant she would be less convinced to keep me around, so I thought. And when I did find myself in trouble it almost felt like relief to both of us. I could run to her with this problem: “Look! I’m flawed and hurt! Here’s something bad that happened to me! I’ve been knocked down and you can feel superior now!” I begged and begged. That proved exhausting, unjust and cruel. The friendship soured. And when I hit rock bottom, when my life crumbled into an unrecognisable mess, when I needed someone the most, turning to her felt like I was twisting the knife myself. There was shame when there shouldn’t have been. I thought insecurity was a price I had to pay to keep her in my life.

This is not to say that I was an angel during our friendship. I had high expectations and I was ruthless in demanding them. I was hungry for proof that I was loved and needed. I was stubborn, too focused on logic and sense that I refused to give emotions any credit at all. I would not communicate until I was at my boiling point, seeing patience as a duty that must be repaid. I was uncaring, insensitive and I thought fixing someone’s situation is the ultimate expression of love. I was heavy handed, harsh. I was not a fun person to be around.

But perhaps what made it all the more painful is the fact that for all our differences we actually had a lot in common. We understand generational trauma. We both know what it’s like to move to a foreign country. We had the same academic goals of learning languages and we value education greatly. We both love literature, romantics in our own ways. We had a shared dream. It wasn’t a very big one but it was ours.

At the end of the day, I don’t think our friendship would have survived. It was always headed for the cliff and it was just a matter of time.

I recall typing in an email to her near the end: “I welcome what will stay to stay, and I let go of what wants to leave without resistance.” Truth is I was partially referring to our friendship with that line. I had tried everything—I had tried harsh, patient, distant, clingy. Nothing I did seemed to get our friendship to keep its head above water. After many false endings and optimistic new beginnings, by the end of the decade I think we both understood that holding on too tightly solved nothing. We both had gone through transformative events at that point. She lost her step-father in a car accident that she herself suffered great injuries from, while I had just finished my master’s yet found myself more lost than I’d ever been, having landed myself in a psychiatric hold. She was on the way to bettering her life, defeating depression and learning to believe in herself again. And I was finally on a slow path to shedding all the past versions of myself, learning to come as I am rather than needing to be someone. We were individually getting better, it seemed. But I suppose that didn’t mean we would get better together.

Reading what I’ve written here, I feel like I’ve come to really understand that I have been grieving this friendship long before it ended. Here I am missing someone who had hurt me and had hurt in return, I feel all this love for her, for the memories. But she isn’t who she used to be anymore. She’s just a stranger now.

I think about K and how she’ll never know me as I am now. My heart is broken. She’ll never know that I can do latte art now, how my music tastes have evolved. She would never get to meet any of my cats. She’ll never hear of my travels. I won’t be there when she gets her first flat. I’ll never get to watch her violin recitals. I won’t know what her cooking tastes like. I’ll never know if she has new favourite books and if she ever changed her mind about Murakami.

The 2019 screenshots that inspired all of this are of a conversation between K and another person who I hurt deeply--J. I told K one morning that I had a dream about him and that after years and years of regret I still hope for his forgiveness. K stepped up and told me she doesn’t mind messaging J on Instagram. They didn’t know each other but she volunteered to reach out on my behalf anyway. After about a month she showed me the screenshots of J’s response—a rejection, a condemnation, my just desserts. I wasn’t surprised really. I hurt J badly. I realised too late how much I love him. I told K I deserved it. But when I was ready to punish myself all over again, K was the one who dusted me off and picked me back up. She said that people change, situations change, and it could really be a new start for me and J if he would just allow a reunion. She said it’s a shame that for all the love we had for each other, J would not allow for a new beginning. Even though I had made that life altering mistake, K reminded me that I am still worthy of redemption.

Those words mean a lot to me.

After remembering all the petty fights, the immature choices and thoughtless remarks, it is in fact this enduring act of kindness that I choose to remember her by, forever and always.

Thinking about it now, I suppose I had always applied that same sentiment to my friendship with K. I always thought that even though we’ve drifted apart, we could always reconnect and start fresh when the time is right. I held on to the hope without realising it. Weeks after my email to her, there’s nothing but fragments of a thread. The thin and brittle thread we kept trying to salvage seem to finally have disintegrated for good—I see this very clearly now, three years after the fact.

Of course there are so many reasons for her lack of response. The most plausible one is that the email she used then must be one of her oldest ones from her teenage years. It wasn’t even her actual name. She could have lost the password or just never thought to check it anymore as she is now using a more current email. Before we lost touch we were getting quite close. She had some financial issues which I was offering to help her with. And she had even floated the idea of flying to the states for the first time to see me. I offered for her to stay at my place. I told her we’d take a road trip. I could drive her anywhere she wanted. We were doing well. I cannot think of what I might have done to I upset her. I don’t believe I’ve given her any reason for her to cut me off.

But it doesn’t matter now.

Time heals wounds but I suppose it also dulls the strongest of emotions. Maybe she just doesn’t feel compelled to keep me in her life anymore.

I’ve been to the UK so many times now and every single time I’ve thought about taking a train to her. Every single time I fought against that idea. I know for sure now that I’ll never set foot in Coventry. I won’t be the one to destroy her peace. But in future, when I find myself in London or elsewhere again, I will choose to think of K and feel gratitude, to have known her, without needing to blame myself for the way our paths diverged.

The idea of this entry was like a geyser inside me. It came in bursts. I thought I would write and publish this in one sitting. It has taken me nearly 20 days. At first it was guilt, anguish for all the shortcomings. I was hurt by the rejection and the delayed realisation. But I have nothing left to mourn now, I think. All I’ve got now is a celebration of what has been.

With this I lay flowers on the grave of our friendship.

[cable-knit-sweater]

MAYAAAAA 😭😭😭😭😭 i know you've gone to bed so you probably won't see this until tomorrow but I'll still be crying about it tomorrow too so that's fine 😭🌟💗 THE NEW VIDEO OF SEBASTIAN @mdceleste posted on Instagram oh my GOD 💖💖💖💖💖

Have you ever seen a more adorable human??? He is such a cute bean, I can NOT 🥺 The fact that he's giving presents to kids at the Ronald McDonald house alone is so so sweet, but the fact that he's wrapping/bagging them himself and putting them under the Christmas tree and being SO GOSHDARN CUTE about it??? I'm just... I love this kind, generous man so freaking much, it's unreal. So grateful for Sebastian Stan tonight 💫💗🌟🥺

Anyway, I thought you'd understand how I'm feeling, hence the screaming in your inbox!! I hope you're sleeping very well and that you're dreaming about our precious boys cuddling with Dodger 🥰😘 ILY honey!!! 💓

MINNIEEEEE 😭😭😭😭 oh my goddddd I just saw the video, and I’m so overwhelmed with love for this man, this absolutely perfect angel baby 🥺🥺💖💖💖

This was the perfect thing to wake up to, although I’m crying into my morning coffee right now 😭 I’ve never seen anything or anyone cuter, like what the fuck Sebastian???? He’s so incredibly generous and good, and I love that soooo much about him, and whenever he does something like this i’m like… 🥺🥺💖💖🥰🥰🥰😭😭 How is anyone so sweet and kind and cute and wonderful and adorable??? We picked the right guy to obsess over 🥺

The WRAPPING!! How seriously he takes it!!!! The organizing them under the tree 😭 I’m still not over him asking about the cookie and saying he doesn’t know how to gift wrap, it’s just so freaking adorable 😭 I hope someone told him he did a great job with all of that, because clearly he really wanted to and was trying his very, very best 🥺 (and I don’t want to take away from the generosity of this but oh my god, all he wants is for someone to tell him what to do & tell him he’s a good boy, isn’t it? the subastian vibes ✨)

Also he’s just so…Sebastian about the whole thing, the cute little faces he makes. Oh god he’s the best. I’m soooo grateful for Sebastian Stan this morning too (and every morning, pretty much) 💛💛💛💛 I definitely understand how you’re feeling honey, like, my heart is exploding, basically 😭 Thank you so much for screaming about this in my inbox, I love that, and you, soooo much 💕💕💕 I hope you slept well too, and hope you have a wonderful day my love 🥰🥰

[maggstar]

hi! hello!

my life update - the hot and cold guy… my goddess we flirted so much, got the good morning beautiful stuff,he drunkenly said to me (on video) “i want to love you” and all that, but he still is off and on :(( i like him but i think im getting played, im too self aware for all of this, got me thinkin love aint for me getting back to uni after break is like entering hell so ive been stressed again :((

ill try to push through!!

on to the main thing i wanted to talk about!! “Until the day i die” !!!!! i read it last night, finally !!! and the wait was so so so worth it!! im not a fan of 3rd pov in fics but i love u and wanted to give it a shot cuz i knew u worked very hard on this!! and i LOVED it!!

im truly in love with the way u describe the scene and emotions !! always makes me feel like i can im there or i can relate or imagine what characters went through!! and Heeseung here? wow, i dont know what else i can say, his background story and struggles and his work?? absolutely stunning! !

the whole plot of the fic was dashing! truely!!!

i missed reading soft sex so much :(( i feel like everything is so loveless.. just fucking and thats it, but here? i melted !! the love and passion and intimacy were on another level, the trust and comment of theirs? and sincerity of it all i was wonderstruck and this made me want to feel something so deep for someone!!

and i saw it was for me??? stappppp, that was so sweet :((( ily2

thank u so much!!! this is was beautiful !! im amazed ! thank u thank u for sharing it here with us!!

i love u, lovely!! hope ure doing good! ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ wishing u all the best for this new year!! lots of love and happiness and warmth !!!

-♡, xoxo

no cause I was waiting for this ever since I posted the fic and kept checking every day. I was so happy to see it in my inbox today!

I'm really happy you liked the fic because I was worried you wouldn't like it since it was in 3rd pov, but thank you for giving it a try regardless of that. I had so much fun writing it, it was comforting for my broken soul haha.

Honestly, you should ask the guy if he wants to be serious or not. If he says no, then he's not worth it. He might make you feel a lot of butterflies, but you should only look for something stable and long-term. Or that's what I would advise to do in this situation. Had a guy like this once, who only wanted to admire me from afar and got spooked when I made a move. It's better to know than go in without anything. You deserve to be respected and loved, never go below with your standards! Someone will meet them one day, so do what feels right for you until then!

Ilym, angel. I hope this year can bring you a lot of health, wealth, success and love. I wish you all the best and please stay safe and don't overwork yourself.

Currently suffering with burnout, and let me tell you, it's a bitch. I have terrible migraines every day and they last for hours despite taking pills. I'll be skipping school for a bit as I have 6 finals next week and can't study for all of them in this state.

So please, take care, sleep a lot, hydrate and don't push yourself too much. Or you'll end up like me and won't be able to do anything :D

[winderlylandchime]

Hello! How are you, hope you’re doing well! I am about to send you the updates for the episodes 5x06 to 5x09 and just so you know, he decided at the end of ep 9 that he is done for today. Even though for the first time ever, I encouraged him to at least watch one more episode but he refused and instead went to watch the Pride episode and then after that RuPaul. He is completely broken over the last episodes he’s watched and he is pissed at me over it as if I’m the one who wrote it. Also on Friday he only watched 6th episode because he spent all day watching Queen music videos and Freddie’s interviews and then yesterday he refused to look at qaf cause he was angry at ep 6. And then today all shit hit the fan. And then he stopped BEFORE THE BEST PART. The one fucking thing he has been waiting and petitioning for since the beginning and he just stopped without realizing it and it’s killing me because I want to shake him and scream about it to him but I can’t. So I am silently suffering inside while he has has been doing that loudly to anyone that will listen. His latest victim was the cat. Prior to the cat it was our grandma. She called him to check up on him cause she heard about the broken wrist but instead she found out about Brian and Justin. The last family member to be exposed to Britin. Anyway, here comes the spam.

Dear sweet anon! I woke up this morning convinced I had a bunch of messages for you in my inbox. Not quite prescient but perhaps I should have slept in today?

Which season of Rupaul is he watching? UK or Canada or a rewatch of an American season?

Oh Grandma Anon is in it now too! So the whole family is part of this madness by now? I love it. But also I feel for you because this entire season is painful and so far your brother has had Right Opinions so I think they're going to continue to be Right and he's going to be heartbroken.

Here we go...

[hazzabeeforlou]

.

[sugawaraxo]

COCKWARMING THE PRETTY SETTERS

warnings: definitely smut 

characters: tooru oikawa, tobio kageyama, kenma kozume, koshi sugawara

a/n: i’m taking request btw :) my inbox is open. also, this is kinda long so grab your popcorn haha

oikawa

 - oikawa is obsessed with you whether he wants to admit it or not

- which is wild because no one would’ve expected him to ever be more obsessed with anyone other than himself

- but here you are

- and he LOVES being around you 

- just being in your presence makes him all giddy and smiley

- though he does try to compose himself whenever you guys are around his teammates but usually fails 

-  he’s not obsessed in a weird or creepy way, but just enough for you to know that he’s all about you and only you

- and you love it

- and of course oikawa’s obsession with you rings no surprise that he’s obsessed with being inside you 

- as long as he’s close to his pretty y/n, he’s happy

the two of you had just finished a long and strenuous two rounds of sex and were more than ready for bed. but when oikawa got out of bed to get towels for the two of you to clean up with, you felt extremely empty. you were exhausted, that’s for sure. but a big part of you just wanted him filling you up again, even if nothing else happened. you pout, knowing that your attentive boyfriend would notice when he came back, which he did. 

“hm, what’s wrong pretty girl?” he asks softly as he starts to gently clean his mess off of your stomach with a warm towel. 

“i want you inside of me again.” you say in an almost whisper, a little embarrassed by the words that just left your mouth and he laughs lightly. 

“you’re so cute.” he says as he tucks a piece of hair away from your face and gives you a kiss. ���but i’m so tired.” he finishes, then plops down on the bed beside you, big spooning you. 

“no, we don’t have to have sex again, i’m exhausted too. i just want you inside me.” you say shyly. you feel his dick twitch behind you and can’t help but smile a little, knowing you’re about to get what you want.

“oh, like cockwarming?” oikawa asks and you nod in response. “hm, ok. yeah, we can do that.” he smiles before kissing your forehead. he was already big spooning you so he was in the perfect position to just slip it in. he pulls down his shorts just enough so that his member could spring free, then pulls the panties that you were wearing under one of his shirts down just enough for him to have access to what he needed. he teases your folds with his tip a little bit, causing you to tense up. then he slowly pushes himself inside you, it not being too difficult with you still being wet from earlier. the two of you moan in unison, both sensitive from your previous interactions. once he’s fully in, he stays there and wraps his arm around your waist as he plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“does that feel good? is that ok?” he asks before pressing more soft kisses on your shoulder and your neck.

“it’s perfect.” you coo and he pulls you a little closer with the arm he had slung over your waist.

“goodnight princess.”

“goodnight oikawa.”

- you definitely have morning sex when you wake up

kageyama

- let’s be real here, he really doesn’t know what any kinks are

- he just learns what he likes and what he doesn’t like from you and waits for you to tell him if it’s a kink or not 

- you end up having to tell him that basically anything sexual can be a kink after he keeps asking you “is that a kink?” every time you two do something new in bed 

- you find his lack of knowledge on the subject adorable though, even though you constantly tease him about it 

- he honestly just goes with the flow and follows your lead in terms of sexual things

- not that he’s the submissive one, you just know more about sex so sometimes you have to give him extra guidance

- he doesn’t mind it though, he wouldn’t wanna learn it from anyone else but you

- and you just so happened to teach him his new favorite kink

you two are making out on kageyama’s bed. it starts off innocent at first but slowly progresses into a messier and more heated kiss. you’re on top of him, tugging on his hair while he grips onto your hips. you begin slowly grinding against him causing him to moan softly into your mouth. his sounds were always so pretty and always instantly made your core pulse. you continue grinding on kageyama, giving both yourself and him pleasure. but it isn’t enough. in one swift motion he flips you over so now he’s the one on top. without detaching his lips from yours, he pulls his member out of his pants and lifts up the skirt you’re wearing then slowly pulls down your underwear, revealing your wet core.

“pretty.” he mumbles before licking a teasingly slow and soft stripe up your folds. you moan at the sensation and shut your eyes in pleasure. he continues to please you with his tongue before inserting two fingers into you. it hurts a bit more than usual but you shrug it off because the pleasure outweighs the pain. he continues with this for a few minutes more before he can’t take it anymore and positions himself at your entrance. he slowly begins pushing himself in, but as soon as he’s all the way in, you yelp in pain.

“ow ow ow! stop!” you groan, and kageyama does as told.

“what’s wrong? s-should i take it out?” he asks, concern laced in his voice.

“no no, keep it in just let me adjust to it.” you say. the day before, you and kageyama had some hardcore sex. you had unintentionally somewhat intentionally made him jealous so that he would punish you, and oh that he did. but your poor pussy was suffering the consequences. 

“ok princess, i won’t move. just let me know when you’re ready.” he says softly and you smile at his sweetness. he starts kissing you again, this time more deep and passionate as opposed to the sloppy, heated kiss that got you here in the first place. you were slowly beginning to relax around your boyfriend while he was losing his mind trying not to bust inside of you. something about not moving but still being inside you, feeling you around him. the anticipation. it’s driving him crazy.

“oh no, i’m gonna cum.” he says shyly as he pulls away from the kiss and accidentally cums inside of you. he hides his face in the crook of your neck in embarrasment and you just giggle at him, as that isn’t the first time that’s happened. 

“is, is that a kink? not doing anything, just being inside you? because i think i have that kink.” he mumbles into your shoulder.

“it is actually, it’s called cockwarming.” you say as you gently stroke his hair, trying to relax your still clearly embarrassed boyfriend. 

“hm, well can we never do cockwarming again, that was embarrassing.” he sighs before finally removing his head from the crook of your neck and looking at you.

“i don’t think it was embarrassing baby, i thought it was cute. but if you don’t wanna do it again we don’t have to.” you reassure him and he blushes at your compliment.

“maybe we can do it again sometime then, but for now it’s time to get you cleaned up.” he says before picking you up over his shoulder and taking you to the bathroom. 

kenma

- anyone who knows kenma knows that he is always preoccupied with video games

- whenever he’s playing, it’s fairly difficult to get his attention

- as his girlfriend, you’ve somewhat learned to accept this, even though you would like more attention from your boyfriend

- but you take what you can get, knowing that’s just how kenma is and you wouldn’t ever wanna change him 

- but sometimes you get needy

- really needy 

- and kenma isn’t always the best at reading that

- so you take it upon yourself to get the kind of attention you’re craving from your boyfriend

kenma doesn’t really get flustered too often. but when he does, oh anyone in a ten mile radius can tell. the first time you saw him really get flustered was when he gave you his hoodie while you were out on a date. it had gotten colder than you expected so he gave you his jacket to keep you warm, and as soon as you put it on, the boy went red. he couldn’t even form coherent sentences at first and you thought it was the most hilariously adorable thing ever. ever since that day, you’ve worn his clothes whenever you wanted his attention; hoodies, sweatshirts, t-shirts, you name it. today is one of those days. kenma has been gaming all day in some sort of tournament and you’re beginning to get frustrated because of how badly you’re craving his touch, so you pull out the big guns. you put on one of his favorite hoodies, one that you’ve never worn before, and head into his gaming room. he’s sitting is his gaming chair deep in concentration, shooting at someone and talking to who you assume is kuroo on his headset. he doesn’t even notice you at first until you come sit in his lap, your legs resting on either side of his as you lay your head on his shoulder. 

“hi kitten.” he whispers away from his mic before placing a gentle kiss on your lips and you hum in response. you played with the hair at the nape of his neck for a little bit before your overwhelming feeling of neediness comes back. you lift your head from kenma’s shoulder, now somewhat blocking his view of his computer screen.

‘i want to feel you inside me’ you mouth to him. he hadn’t even realized what you were wearing until right then, and his cheeks blush bright red. he places a finger under your chin and uses it to pull you in for a kiss. “go for it.” he whispers to you as he pulls away, reverting his attention back to his game that he had forgotten about for a quick second. you easily slip his member out of the sweats he’s wearing and give it a few strokes to get him hard. you were wearing absolutely nothing under his hoodie in hopes that this would be the outcome, and when he notices that as he glances from you back to his computer screen every so often, he mumbles 

“dirty little kitten, this is exactly what you wanted hm?” 

“mhmm” you respond and he smiles.

you continue what you’re doing and position kenma’s tip at your hole before slowly sinking down on it. your breath hitches at the feeling of being filled up, while kenma clenches his eyes shut and bites his lip in order to hold back his moans. once he’s fully inside you, you lay your head on his shoulder again and just stay there.

“hm, that’s it? you just wanna cockwarm me?” kenma asks curiously. 

“mhmm. just wanted to feel you inside me, that’s it.” you say sleepily, slowly drifting as you shut your eyes. 

kenma can’t help but smile, “you’re adorable.” he says before planting a kiss on your cheek. you smile a small smile in return before dozing off on kenma’s shoulder, him still buried deep inside you. 

every so often you would move around in your sleep and kenma would have to bite his lip to hold back a moan so the friends he was playing with wouldn’t hear, but it was worth the risk because he loves just being this close to you, and you do too.

sugawara

- suga’s high sex drive really surprised you when you two first started dating

- his kinkiness surprised you too

- you thought he would always be very gentle and vanilla

- but you were very mistaken

- not that you’re complaining though

- he’s always open to trying new things

- so when you bring up the topic of cockwarming, he’s intrigued

“is that something you wanna try bunny?” he asks after you finish explaining to him what exactly cockwarming is.

“we don’t have to if you don’t want to, i just think it’d be interesting to try.” you shrug

“i agree.” he says, before leaning over to start kissing your neck. that’s your weak spot, so you take this as suga saying he wants to try right now. the two of you are currently on the couch, in the middle of watching a romcom but clearly that romcom has been forgotten as suga continues to make little love bites on your neck. you lift his chin to kiss him because you know if you don’t stop him now, he’ll cover your whole body in hickies. the kiss is soft, but passionate and you can feel yourself quite literally melting into it. somehow you end up straddling suga, still lost in the kiss. you suddenly notice a pair of familiar fingers making their way down to your most sensitive area. he teases you, rubbing his fingers over your pajama shorts, knowing you’re getting needy because of the way you’re starting to softly moan into his mouth. he takes this as a sign of you wanting more and breaks away from the kiss so he can take off your shorts and your underwear, with a little bit of help from you. once your bottom half is completely naked, he grins and begins kissing you again. the sensation of your bare core against suga’s sweatpants was teasing you, so you began moving your hips to get some friction. suga moans a little at your sudden movements and you can feel him getting harder. he pushes you up off of him slightly so that he can pull his sweats down, them ending up just hanging around his ankles. now both of your bottom halves are naked, and you’re staring at each other in anticipation.

“sit on it bunny.” suga instructs and you follow his orders, sitting down on his length and feeling every inch against your walls. that feeling when he first inserts into you will never get old. 

“mm, suga.” you moan. he instinctively thrusts after hearing your pretty noises, completely forgetting what you guys were supposed to be trying.

“no, don’t move.” you laugh at him and he blushes apologetically.

“sorry, i couldn’t help it. you’re just so pretty.” he apologizes and you melt.

“it’s ok suga, you’re adorable.” you smile. “i’m gonna turn around now, but keep you inside me and we’ll finish the movie just like this, yeah?” you say.

“yeah.” he nods in agreement. without pulling suga out of you, you turn so that you’re no longer straddling him but sitting in his lap with your back facing towards him, your face now facing the tv. you guys finish the rest of the movie exactly like this, you sitting on suga’s lap with his member deep inside of you and suga occasionally thrusting up into you just to get your reaction. 

[flanklurker]

Starving for Skye content 😭🙏 Could I request a Skye x Fem!Reader where they wake up early on their day off together, and they decide to stay in bed for a bit and it's just super fluffy ?? Maybe Reader traces all of Skye's scars (Maybe Skye is telling Reader each how she got each scar?) and just admires her freckles 🧍‍♀️ I'm so inlove with her it's insane

My good friend, same I say, having had this sitting in my inbox for like 3 months(? Imsosorry) I hope you enjoy~

Skye x Fem!Reader: Lazy Day

The first thing your sleepy eyes lock onto are the way the sliver of warm light from the window picks up the dust particles hazing through the air. The light is brilliant when it hits them—little flecks of gold in an otherwise still-dark room.

The second thing you notice is your girlfriend, mouth slightly ajar and hair mussed over the pillow. Her chest rises and falls, all sheets and blankets having rolled to the side during all the tossing and turning she did to get comfortable last night.

The last mission was a bitch.

It wasn’t often you guys got scheduled on the same mission. Don’t get me wrong, your synergy was great—some of the best teamwork in the Protocol in fact. It was more that you were both so invaluable that Brim often needed you chaperoning the more… trigger happy members of your organisation.

God it was nice being able to wake up next to her. You’d saved yourself a lot of stiffness by taking yourselves off to Sage last night. For the first time in however long then, you had yourselves a morning off.

The smallest grumble from across the bed draws your attention, and you see Skye stir on the pillow next to you. Her eyes crinkle blearily as she tugs the blankets back around her.

You smile gently and brush a little bit of hair out of her eyes. Before you can retract your hand, she reaches up and grabs it, locking your fingers and murmuring something soft that ends in “…morninggg.”

“Hey sleepyhead. Missed morning run alarm huh?”

This draws angrier grunts as she rolls the blankets around, pushing her head closer to your chest to block out the light. “MmmMMmmmbb,” she mumbles.

Usually Skye’s ready to crack on with a run, so you decide to make the most of the moment to tug her in closer and run your hand through her hair. She leans into the touch and hums.

“Wanna stay in a bit?” she whispers.

“Of course,” you smile.

After a while, she makes another grumble and shifts over to press her back up against you. The loose night shirt tugs down and exposes her neck and shoulders, filled with scars and scrapes. Almost absent-mindedly, you start running your fingers across the various ridges, tracing currents down her skin.

She chuckles. “The perks of havin’ an aviary.”

“Where did you get these ones anyway? Didn’t think we’d been melee’d that many times on the field recently,” you chuckle.

“Oh these? Nah, they’re old news.” She tugs the shirt further back to reveal the marks that pepper her shoulders. Your little huffs of concern are met with an easy smile.

“They don’t hurt anymore ya goof, these are from my days as a hiking guide. Someone’s kid got himself somewhere he shouldn’t, and I might have gone a bit past OH&S requirements to get him out of a pretty tight cave. Granite’s a bitch.”

She moves your hand to a thick, textured indent on her left shoulder. “This one, I got from an overly ambitious bike outing. To be fair, it was a pretty sick jump, I can show you the video if I can dig it up.”

“You videoed that?” you ask, incredulously.

“My mate did,” she chuckles. “Funniest shit I ever seen.”

“What about this one on the back?” you ask, tracing a big gash through her upper back. You ask it jokingly, but you’re met with a surprisingly serious expression.

“Shit, Skye, is that off-limits? My bad- I didn’t mean to dredge up-“

“Nah fam, you’re right. Just a vicious encounter I’d prefer to forget.”

“Realm? Mirrors?”

“Worse. Australian wildlife.”

What the fuck could be deadlier than some universe’s Reyna? You gotta know. “What the fuck did that one Skye.”

“God, these things are so rare I couldn’t fucken believe I ran into one,” she starts up. “Dead of night, day three of the gnarliest fucken bush bash I’ve ever been on. I go off to find a place level enough to bury the team’s poo-“

“Skye that’s fucken nasty,” you cut in.

“Naw naw, listen though. We had head torches and shit right? Not much is gonna fuck you up if you make noise—snakes tend to stay the fuck away and kangas are more interested in beefing with each other anyway. But there was this weird rustling, right?”

“Mm.” You’re riveted.

“And there was just something about it. My heart dropped and I think I kinda knew what I was in for. God, even thinking of it now makes my blood run cold. As slowly as I could, no sudden moves, I looked up towards the branches. The torch cut across these eyes. Fuck. I can still remember exactly the way they lit up in the gumtrees. The low growl that seemed to come from everywhere. Bone white claws and tusks live with spittle.”

“Oh my god, Skye. What was it,” you say softly.

“Stuff of Australian legends, girlie. The tyrant of the bush. The hunter of the canopy.”

Here, she pauses, and takes a deep breath, looking at you dead on.

“The drop… bear.”

You look at her for a full ten seconds, coming to terms with the enormity of what she’s just said. She looks at you, trying to remain as impassive as she can but not quite as a small, rakish smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.

“Skye.”

“Love of my life.”

“I can’t believe you just fucking tried to drop-bear me-“

“Successfully, drop-beared you,” she shoots back.

“-believe you successfully drop-beared me in the year of our lord 2-“

You’re cut off with a flurry of kisses, as the pair of you can barely supress grins and giggles. Skye peppers kisses all over your face as you squirm in mock-protest, until you both dissolve into a pile of pillows and blankets and laughs.

Yeah, that counts as a good day off.

[sunflowervolvimp3]

changes (best friend!harry)

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

Pairing: best friend!Harry x reader

Word Count: 17k (holy shit)

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

{masterlist}

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

“And how’s that going?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry just grins at you.

…

“Want one?”

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

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

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

“So high maintenance.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N really doubts it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

“You’re still working?”

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

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

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

Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N clears her throat. “Right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And remember how nervous you were?”

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

…

“Good morning.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Exactly.”

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

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

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

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

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

Except this doesn’t feel like any other way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry presses a chaste kiss to her shoulder.

…

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

“I have a proposition for you.”

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

“Probably.”

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

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

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

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

“Probably?” Y/N says suspiciously.

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

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

“You do?”

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

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

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

“Why do I have to be creative?”

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

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

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

“No.  Absolutely not.”

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry snickers. “Coming right up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um,” Y/N swallows hard. “Sure.”

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

Y/N replies faintly. “Alright.”

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

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

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

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

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

“How—how’s that?” Harry asks quietly.

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

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

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

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

“H…”

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

“Yes.” Y/N breathes. “Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it okay if I…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N sucks in a breath. “You don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want you, too.” She says simply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not done.” She says simply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N loves him for it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God…” She whispers, fists clenched.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did.”

“You said you were mine.”

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

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

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

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

Harry frowns a bit at the tone of her voice. “I’ve been yours too, Y/N.  I belong to you just as much as you belong to me.”

“You’ve always been further out of reach.” Y/N pulls her hand from his, until their fingertips are just barely touching. “Always just…a little out of reach.”

Harry intertwines their fingers again. “I’m not out of reach.  Not right now.  And I’ve never—if you ever called me and said you needed me, I would’ve been on the first flight back home to you.  I would’ve dropped everything for you, Y/N.  I still would, and I always will.”

Tears prick Y/N’s eyes, and although she hurries to close them, one slips out.  Harry catches it on his finger before it can run off her cheek, and when she looks at him again, there’s a concerned look on his face.

“C’mere.” Harry mumbles, pulling Y/N into a tight hug.  He rubs her back like he always does, and the motion is so comforting that she almost forgets the vulnerable position they’re both in. “You’re my girl.  You’re always going to be my girl.” He murmurs in her ear, voice low and soothing. “Always.  Don’t you know that?”

Y/N nods, not trusting her voice at the moment.

“If this is too much for you…” Harry traces his fingers between her shoulder blades.  Y/N thinks he’s tracing words, like they used to as children, but she can’t tell what words he may be tracing. “I understand. We can just—we can pretend it didn’t happen.”

“I—” Y/N shakes her head, looking up at Harry. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Then what do you want, Y/N?” Harry asks, his tone as pleading as it was last night. “All I’ve ever tried to do is give you what you want, and usually I’m pretty good at telling what that is, but right now, I’m lost.  I don’t want things to go back to how they were, but I don’t—I can’t lose you, so just—if you just tell me what you want, I’ll do it.  I’ll make it work.  I promise that I won’t be mad, or hurt, or anything.”

Y/N sits up as best she can, her fingers combing through Harry’s messy curls on reflex, as she always does it when he gets upset. “I can’t pretend that I don’t want you, H.  I do.  I need you.  I told you that last night.”

“But you’re crying.” Harry cups her wet cheek gently, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone. “I hate that.”

Y/N leans into his touch. “It just feels…strange.” She says after a moment. “All of this.  I spent so long trying to stop myself from thinking of you like this, and now that I am, I feel like—like it’s wrong.”

Harry tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth. “Does it feel wrong?”

His low voice makes her shiver. “No.  It feels right.  Really right.”

“I feel like…” Harry’s eyes flicker between Y/N’s own eyes and their intertwined hands. “I feel like we’re both dancing around saying it.”

Y/N sucks in a breath. “Saying what?”

“Saying…” Harry leans in and presses a soft kiss to her lips. “Saying that we’re in love with each other.”

Y/N feels breathless at the words coming from his mouth. “You’re in love with me?”

“Are you not in love with me?” He replies, moving so he’s leaning over her more. “We’ve said I love you so many times before.”

“That’s a different kind of love.” Y/N mumbles, touching the chain dangling from Harry’s neck.

“But we were both meaning something different when we were saying it.  At least, I was.” Harry inhales deeply, like he’s centering himself. “I’ve known…for a while, but I’ve felt it for longer than I’ve known it. And I thought that you might…”

“I think I do.” Y/N whispers. “But saying it feels so—so permanent.  Like we can’t go back to being friends if it blows up in our faces.”

Harry traces a finger down Y/N’s cheek, her neck, between her breasts, to her side, touching just below her ribs. “Maybe we can’t.  But I don’t think we’ll want to, Y/N.  I think we’re perfect for each other.”

Y/N’s heart pounds in her chest. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods. “This last month, it’s been like we’ve been…playing house, or something.  I’ve loved it.  I keep hearing from friends saying that they’re so sick of the person they’re living with, so tired of them, but I’ve never felt that way about you, and I don’t think I ever will.  I’ll never get sick of you.”

Y/N laughs a bit. “That’s romantic.”

“Shut up.” Harry can’t help but smile slightly. “It is romantic.”

“Yeah.  It is.” Y/N says softly, her hand rubbing over Harry’s tattooed arm. “You’re really in love with me?”

Harry nods. “I am.”

“Huh.” Y/N bites her lip. “So I guess we’ve been lying to our moms, haven’t we?”

Harry laughs loudly, collapsing on the bed next to Y/N. “Jesus, can you not mention our mums when we’re naked in bed?”

“I’m just saying!  We’ve been saying for years that you’re not in love with me, and it’s all been a lie.”

“What about when they ask if you’re in love with me?” Harry’s tone is joking, but there’s a hint of nervousness in the back of his voice. “Has that been a lie, too?”

Y/N’s heart pounds as she nods. “Yeah.  We’ll have to get them something really good for Mother’s Day this year to help make up for it.”

A grin spreads over Harry’s face, almost triumphant, as he leans down to kiss her. “Agreed.” He moves to cage himself over Y/N. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“I want to hear you say that you’re in love with me.” Harry’s grin turns into a smirk.

Y/N flushes as she shakes her head. “You say it first.”

“I’ve already admitted it!”

“So have I!”

“Not as well as I have!”

“Oh, so it’s a competition now?” Y/N scoffs. “What a wonderful start to our relationship.”

“I’m just saying, Y/N, admitting it is the first step to—”

“Are you seriously going to say that to get me to say that I love you?”

“Just—”

“You’re so irritating—”

“I’m irritating?  You—”

“You’re the worst!”

“And yet you’re in my bed with no clothes on!”

“Okay.  Nope.  Relationship over.” Y/N pushes Harry off of her and wraps the sheet around herself as she gets out of bed. “You blew it, Styles.”

“Y/N.” Laughter falls from Harry’s lips as he leans over the edge of the bed. “Love.  Come back to bed.”

“I think a minute and thirty-seven seconds may be the record for the world’s shortest relationship.” Y/N searches her bag for some clean clothes.

“Come here!”

“Another world record for Harry Styles.” Y/N calls to him without turning around. “You must be so proud—”

Her words are cut off in a shriek as Harry picks her up, throwing her over his shoulder as he brings her back to his bed.

“Harry!” She yells, hitting his arm. “Put me down!”

Harry tosses her on the bed, gentle enough so as not to hurt her, and cages himself over her sheet-covered body.  He’s still completely bare. “Take it back.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Fine. We’re still together.  One less record for you.”

“Good.  Now…” Harry brushes a finger over her lips. “Say you’re in love with me.”

Y/N’s laughter fades a bit as the nerves set back in. “I…”

“Please, Y/N?” Harry murmurs, leaning down to kiss her neck. “Please say it.”

“I’m—” Y/N sucks in a quick breath, and all of her protest leaves her body as she exhales. “I’m in love with you, Harry.”

She can feel Harry’s lips forming a grin against her neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Y/N tugs on his hair gently, just enough so she can pull his head back to look in his eyes. “Now you say it.”

“Y/N.” Harry says her name like it’s something precious. “I’m in love with you.”

A flush of pleasure crawls up Y/N’s spine at his words, but she does her best to keep her tone light-hearted. “So are you calling our moms, or am I?”

“I’ll do it.” Harry reaches for his phone on the bedside table. “And I’ll be sure to mention how it took us getting drunk and having sex to realize—”

“Harry!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell your mum we used a condom—”

“I’ll kill you, Styles, and I’ll make it look like an accident.” Y/N shoves his shoulder hard.

Harry grins at her. “Now that’s romantic.”

[seabass17]

All that’s left | Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

A/n: This is my first time writing something based on a video I found on TikTok, it’s not exactly the same, but it is kinda the idea. I hope you like it and please let me know if you might want a part two. Also, I apologize if you find some errors, im doing my best since English is not my first language. Anyway, happy reading!!

All that’s left masterlist

Pt. 2

Warnings: angst, mentions of injuries (broken ribs, cuts, dislocated shoulder)

Word count: 2.5K

Summary: She still can’t get used to the feeling of being left behind by the people she once called family. After being hurt, she decides that she will give them a chance, and when they failed, she then makes the decision to disappear and start brand new. Of course, she leaves a letter that will left the team standing in the dark, and with more questions than answers about a lot of things, while discovering that she has more of one past that she let to know.

The sound of the rain hitting against the window of my living room was the only thing that could be heard in the silence of my apartment. I looked over my desk where the paper is waiting for me to pick up the pen and get this over with, but somehow, somewhere deep inside of me, a part is waiting, holding on to the smallest of hope that maybe, just maybe, he is going to come knocking to my door asking why the i haven’t showed up to the compound for the last three days, or why i didn’t text nor call the rest of the team. I wanted to see if they would notice my absence so I left the compound on Thursday. I got the answer to my question when Sunday arrived and my inbox was clear; no one noticed. Today is Tuesday, my apartment is thirteen minutes away, fifthteen if you literally fly or speed up, but still, no one came or text.

To be honest, I'm not surprised, that doesn’t mean it hurts less though. I know i should probably think this through instead of making the impulse decision of grabbing my things and get the hell out of here, going somewhere i can start fresh, somewhere i can start over and get a chance to get over all the things that happened,  find people that actually cared for me, or maybe not finding anyone at all and die alone.

I stand up from my bed and go to my desk, it’s time to get this over with. I start writing the only thing that they get to keep.

“Dear Avengers, You’re probably wondering where I am, or you just don’t care, maybe you don’t even find this. If someone from the building finds this, keep it in case they ever come looking for me; thank you. So, this is it, this is my goodbye. You should consider yourselves lucky, given the fact that none of you even deserves a goodbye because you are the ones causing it. I could tell you the reason why I'm leaving, and you know what, I will tell you. I chose to trust you. The one thing I feared the most was trusting people, but when I joined the team, I thought ‘well, maybe i can trust them, they are my team’, guess what, I was wrong. You should really look out for your teammates Stark, oh, and by the way, you might want to look deeper into why the operation that saved those 30 civilians on may 20, didn’t go south, you might even discover its the very same reason of why i didn’t showed up in the compound for a week, yeah, they were busy torturing the information out of me for a week; information that, by the way, i didn't give, hence why the operation went great. Something even more funny, is that behind every mistake, every wrong that each one of you have ever done, I’m the one that suffered the consequences. Don’t believe me? Then you might want to do your homework, because dear teammates, I’m the one you couldn’t protect. By the time you find out the things you’ve done, I will be long gone. I'm very good at disappearing, Natasha (once she figures it out) can confirm that. I wish things would be different and we could be… family, but that’s never going to happen; not anymore. As of now, there will be no record of my name ever existing, everything that once belonged to me, will be burned, and as of me, well, I am no one.”

I fold the piece of paper and put it in the envelope, once sealed, I write down the word my name in the center so they know. I take a last look at my apartment. Everything is intact, the furniture that came with it is the same as always, the only thing different is that it seems empty without all my belongings. I grabbed my luggage and exited the apartment and then went downstairs.

“Hey Richard”  I say to the man that is in the reception like I always do

“Hey miss, what can I do for you?”

“Well, I'm leaving, for good. If someone comes asking for me, my friends, you tell them that you haven’t seen me. Oh, I left a letter for them upstairs, could you please make sure that it gets to them? Only if the show up, do not sent it”

He looked at me a little sad and confused.

“Oh, well, you will me missed miss, I hope you find happiness and yes, i promised i will make sure they get your letter”

“Thank you Richard, for everything, oh, and this is for you” I handed him an envelope with some cash. He looked like he was about to say something about how he couldn’t accept it but I cut him off. “Please, just take it, please”. He sighs but takes the envelope.

“Thank you miss…”

I smiled at him and then turned around to grab a cab. I'm supposed to be in the airport in 30 minutes. Once in the airport, the only thing left is to start again, be someone brand new.

*3rd person POV*

Friday morning was a little colder than usual in the avengers compound, everyone on the team was up and in the kitchen having breakfast. Everything was normal, until someone noticed that someone was missing.

“Hey guys” Bucky said right before taking a bite of the pancakes Wanda made earlier for everyone. “Have any of you seen y/n?”

The team stayed quiet, realizing that they haven’t seen her for quite a while, not until Barnes brought it up.

“Uh… maybe she took a trip?” Steve broke the silence while the rest started thinking when was the last time they had seen her.

“No, she was here when we arrived from the Jersey mission, it must have been like what, two days, maybe three?” Tony said. Bucky could feel his insides burning and twisting.

“No… that was eight days ago” Vision intervened. The avengers felt like someone just blew up the white house. Her teammate was missing for eight days and no one even noticed. Bucky was the first one to react by getting up and running to her dorm, only to find it exactly the way it was when he last saw her. He searched her dorm looking for something out of place that could tell him that maybe you were in trouble and that he has to come save you, but he is left desperate when he doesn’t find anything.

“She’s not here, everything is intact” He informs once he is back in the kitchen.

“Everyone” Steve calls out, “get dressed, we’re going to look for her. Let’s start in her apartment”

The team leaves to change their clothes and next thing they know, they are in her building. Without saying a word to the receptionist, they all made their way up to her apartment.

“Hey! wait-” he goes unnoticed because the avengers are already on her door. Wanda knocks on the door.

“Y/n? You there?” no one responds. “Y/n come on, don’t be mad at us” Natasha says.

After a few seconds they all start to worry when the door is unlocked, and they worry even more once they see the apartment completely empty.

“What the-” Bucky says

“Where are her things?” Wanda asks to no one especifically

“Where is she?” Thor says

“What the hell is going on?” Tony says a little louder

Bucky storms out of the empty apartment and goes to the man in the reception

“What the hell happened to apartment 108, where is y/n y/l/n?” he asks with worry and anxiety in his voice.

“I’m sorry, but, who are you?” the man asks the rather intimidating group of people in front of him.

“We’re the Avengers man” Peter says and the man suddenly realizes and his face changes from a confused one, to a sad one that makes the team’s stomach drop.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t…” he sighs, “She left me indicated to give this to you” he hands them an envelope that looks like it's been sitting there for a while. Bucky stares at the envelope like it's some kind of nuclear weapon that if you touch it, it could kill you. Wanda notices, grabs the envelope and stares at the paper in her hands.

“When did she leave this?” She asked

“Three days ago”

“And why didn’t you send it to us?” Tony asked, getting angry at the poor man.

“Because she specifically said  to handed it to you, if you ever came looking for her”

Bucky could feel the tears in his eyes start to form.

“She said that? `Ever’?” Bucky asked almost to himself. The man slowly nodded. Natasha could feel how her stomach started burning from the guilt and the pain of not noticing that her friend was missing for eight days, little does she know that the entire team felt exactly the same.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y pull the records on the mission on may 20 and also show me the status of y/n on that time” Tony said to the AI and after a few seconds later, pictures of the building that that was about to be blown out by HYDRA with 30 civilians inside showed up. While the avengers were sitting in the conference room looking at the pictures, the AI started talking.

“Mission of may 20. Information was given that HYDRA kept 30 civilians inside the building with the intention of blowing it up with them inside. Source of the information unknown. The Avengers  came to the building and successfully rescued the civilians safely moments before the building was blown up. Agent y/n y/l/n was on an undercover mission on a HYDRA facility at the same time, the communication was lost three days before the civilians situation, and around the same time, the information about the building was given anonymously the very same day that communication with Agent y/l/n was lost; Agent y/l/n returned a week later. Medical record found, access denied”

“Override, Tony Stark” Tony said after a good couple of seconds, the pieces starting to fall in place.

“Access complete. Medical records of Agent y/l/n on may 27th. Access restrained: Agent y/l/n. She presented with several cuts all over her body, three broken ribs, a second grade concussion, a sprained ankle and a dislocated shoulder. Patient refused treatment and was only given medication for the pain”

The seconds were passing and no one in the room would break the silence. The pieces were starting to fall in place, Tony felt nauseous. He yelled at her for being irresponsible for staying a little longer than she should have in the undercover mission, given the fact that she checked in on june 10th, meaning that she waited two weeks for her injuries to heal enough so that he could yell at her for not being good enough. He fell down to his chair, feeling like if he stayed up, he might throw up.

“She was the one that gave us the information about the building” Sam broke the silence. “She was the one that got tortured, and still managed to pass through the data so that we, could be the heroes while she was the one that got beaten up”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, where is she?” Natasha asked the AI, and it responded after a few seconds.

“No information found”

Natasha frowned, Bucky looked up to the screen to see the red sentence. It only made him want to scream more.

“What does ‘no information found’ mean?” Bucky asked on the edge of falling apart.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y” Steve called

“No information available” it said this time.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, look for y/n y/l/n” Tony said, thinking maybe he needed to check what was wrong with the AI.

“No records found for y/n y/l/n”

“Detail,” Stark said.

The AI showed what it said before, there was no record of her name, it was like it never existed. No phone number, no mail address, no nothing, just a little picture of an abandoned building or mansion somewhere in the world.

“Wait” Natasha said, “I know that building, F.R.I.D.A.Y, do a close up on that picture”

“What is it?” Wanda asked

“It was where The Red Room used to operate” tha AI responded

“Why does it appear related to her?” Bucky asked, fearing the answer

“The picture was taken when a girl escaped The Red Room in 2002, she eliminated four people on the way, the age or who it was is still unknown” the AI responded.

“Oh god…” Natasha whispered but Bucky manage it to hear it

“Natasha, what is it?” he asked

“2002, that’s three years after i managed to escape, there was a girl, we were some sort of friends, i promised that i was going to get us out of here, but i couldn’t take her with me so i left her. Two years later I contacted someone on the inside so that I could get to her and plan her escape, but she was angry at me and said that she was fine, a year later she did escape, killing four people on her way” Natasha explained. Everything makes sense now, why she looked familiar, why she had exactly the same skills as Natasha. The team noticed it too, but they assumed it was because she had trained very hard to be an avenger.

“What was her name?” Vision asked.

“Eliza” Natasha said

“Wait a minute…” Bucky said, lifting her head looking at Natasha. “Was that her real name?”

“No, she didn’t wanted to say her real one” Natasha said

“Eliza, that’s y/n’s grandmother’s name” Bucky said and the room fell into a silence where you could hear the wind outside.

“In the letter…” Steve started, “She said that you could confirm that she was good at disappearing completely once you figured it out, so, does this mean that…”

“Y/n is Eliza” Natasha concluded

“She was in The Red Room” Bucky added.

“She said in her letter that all of us did her wrong,” Sam said, “how are we supposed to know what the hell we do to her? She’s been in the team for what, two and a half years? And just now we realized that she was the one that gave us the data that saved 30 people and got her tortured, and that she was trained in The Red Room like Black Widow here. What else are we missing?” he added.

“Guess there’s only one thing we can do” Steve said, looking at Tony.

“And what’s that?” Wanda asked

“We find her”