#i miss being annoying on the dash it was such a big part of my day a couple years ago !!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr is used by 21% of adults online aged 18-29 years.

#i miss being annoying on the dash it was such a big part of my day a couple years ago !!!

atinylittlepain · 1 year

Text

All Worked Up - An Eddie Munson Story

sub!Eddie x softdom!reader

Eddie Munson masterlist

Eddie had been getting on her nerves since that morning. When his neediness pushes her too far, he's in for a little lesson from his favorite girl.

warnings | 18+ SMUT, rough sex, light sub/dom dynamic, angst-lite, basically porn with a dash of plot

a/n | this is entirely inspired by this post I saw from @mantorokk-writes - I am a firm believer in sub!Eddie :)

......................

She loves him, she really does, but sometimes Eddie Munson can be an absolute pest. It started this morning. Dressed and ready for work, she had sleepily padded into the tiny kitchen in their shared apartment, looking to grab a bowl of cereal before she had to go, only to be shocked awake by Eddie’s bare ass facing her as he gulped down whatever was left in the milk carton she had just bought two days ago. Who the fuck drinks straight milk other than little kids? Apparently, Eddie. But she didn’t have much time to be annoyed about that, because as soon as Eddie noticed her standing there he set the carton down, leaving the fridge wide open as he grabbed at her with a petulant huff, smothering her in morning-breath-heavy kisses to the point that she had to redo her makeup, effectively making her late to her job. Work itself hadn’t exactly helped her frustration either, her boss was riding her ass the whole day and hadn’t asked, but commanded her to stay overtime. By the time she got back home, she was exhausted and wanted a hot shower promptly followed by passing out for the night. But, yet again, Eddie had different plans.

The moment she was in the door of their apartment, he was on her, hands rubbing up and down her hips through her tight pencil skirt as he nosed at her neck. He had clearly gotten home long before her, already showered after his shift at the car shop, his damp ringlets dripping onto her blouse and annoying the ever living shit out of her.

“There you are, sweetheart, my little working girl. Missed you like crazy.” She hummed as his words skated up her neck, craning her head to try to get him out of her space, but Eddie wasn’t taking the hint. Part of her felt a little bad for being so irritated, she knew he was just trying to love on her, but right now the last thing she wanted was to be touched by anyone. His hands started squeezing a little more eagerly at the softness of her thighs, dipping under the hem of her skirt. She pushed lightly on his chest.

“Hey, Eds. I’m sorry I’m late. I’m just gonna go get a shower, ok?” He actually whined at her words, his hands becoming a bit more insistent in their wandering.

“C’mon, baby. Just gimme a minute with my girl, huh? Wanna feel you.” She couldn’t really get a word in edgewise, not with the way he kept stealing smacking kisses. She was squirming in his hold, huffing under his needy ministrations. They both stilled, however, when a quiet rip resonated through their apartment. She looked down at where Eddie’s hands had stilled on her stockinged thighs just as he let out a soft curse. His rings must have gotten caught on her pantyhose, her good pair, and had ripped an unfixable tear right up the length of her thigh. She finally wrenched out of his grasp.

“Eddie, what the fuck?” His eyes went wide, lips parted as he held his hands up.

“I’m sorry, baby. I mean it’s not that big of a deal, right? I-I can get you a new pair!” She let out a harsh sigh, dragging her hand through her hair and tugging at the roots in frustration.

“These are expensive, Munson! If you had listened to me and let up a little maybe you wouldn’t have ripped them in the first place!” Eddie scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, sorry for wanting to be close to my girl. C’mon, honey, I’ve needed you all day. Just forget about it, huh?” She let out a humorless laugh, stepping up to him and jabbing her finger into his chest.

“I guess you’re gonna stay needy for a little longer then, because right now, I’m gonna get a shower and then I’m gonna go to bed and you can sleep on the couch tonight.” Before he could get another word in she turned on her heel and stomped down the hall to the bathroom, leaving Eddie stunned where he stood. She locked the door behind her for good measure, already feeling guilty for the way she reacted. She knew it was an accident, but she had such a long day and he just wouldn’t listen. Too tired to think much more about it, she decided she’d deal with him in the morning.

The warm water of the shower was an instant relief, her tensed muscles starting to melt. She just stood under the stream for a while, before finally beginning to soap off the grime of the day. However she didn’t get very far in the task when the water abruptly went ice cold, causing her to let out a clipped shriek and dart out of the shower. She knew exactly who was to blame. She hastily wrapped her towel around her before wrenching open the door and storming into their kitchen. Sure enough, Eddie was standing at the sink, leaning back against the counter and letting the hot water run. He shot her the smuggest grin she’d ever seen. She wanted to smack it off his face. She’d had enough of his little games.

“Really? You’re gonna be that big of a brat right now?” He just shrugged, tilting his head to the side.

“What’re you gonna do about it, sweetheart?” Her jaw ticked as they stared each other down. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I want you on the bed, no clothes, now.” His eyes went wide and wild at her and she scoffed.

“Did I fucking stutter?” That seemed to snap him into action and he practically scurried down the hall to their bedroom. She took her time, getting herself a glass of water and sipping it down before sauntering down the hall. When she stepped into their bedroom, sliding along the wall, she was met with the sight of her man splayed out on their bed, only wearing his boxers and sitting up on his elbows to look at her. She clicked her tongue.

“Can’t you follow instructions, baby? I said no clothes.” His big doe eyes got impossibly wider as he scrambled to shuck off his boxers, his cock immediately jumping against his tummy and smearing pre-cum in the tufted hair there. She let her towel fall to the floor and Eddie groaned at the sight of her, immediately moving his hand down to fist his length, but she was on him in a flash. She straddled his thighs, grabbing both his wrists and pressing them back against the pillows around his head. Her cunt dragged against the underside of his cock and he whimpered at the slide. She sneered, dipping down to bite at his lip, letting it snap back with a pop.

“Not being very good for me tonight, Eds. Did I say you could touch yourself?” He was letting out breathy whines as she continued to grind against him, his eyes scrunching shut. She brought her palm to press along the sweep of his throat, fingers curling lightly as his eyes shot wide open at the delicate pressure.

“You better shape up fast, baby. Or I’m gonna leave you and your dick here high and dry.” He sputtered at her words, shaking his head and letting out another whine.

“M’sorry, m’sorry! I just– fuck– need you so bad. P-please– I’ll be so good for you.” She hummed, watching his frantic expression as she continued to swivel her hips down.

“I know, baby. So needy, huh? Why don’t I help you be good for me?” With that, she slid off his lap. He tried to follow after her but she pushed him back down onto the mattress with her palm against his chest.

“Stay, I’ll be right back.” She found what she was looking for in the bathroom, padding back in only to find Eddie stroking his dick again. His eyes were closed tight, and she had to admit he was so pretty like this, flushed and panting, chasing a pleasure that would never be fully in reach, not without her help. She startled him out of his reverie with a sharp laugh. He gasped, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. She just shook her head at him.

“You’re really disappointing me tonight, Eds.” He frowned deeply at her words, his fists clenching at his sides now. She just nodded.

“Mmhmm, I guess I’m gonna have to teach you a little lesson, huh? Gotta learn how to be a good boy for me.” As she spoke, she walked over to one side of the bed, crawling up onto the mattress and swinging her leg over his body to straddle his stomach. His hands instinctively went to the plush of her hips but she was quick to grab his wrists, pinning them together above his head before she grabbed what she had retrieved from the bathroom. When Eddie realized what she was doing with her ripped pantyhose he groaned low in his throat.

“P-please, baby. You don’t have to do that. I promise– I’ll be good for you.” She sighed, finishing up tying his wrists together and to one of the wooden slats of their headboard, his hands dangling limply from the bind. She skated her fingertips down his cheek, tracing his jaw as she studied his face.

“Color, Eds?” His reply came out sounding rather hoarse.

“Green, I’m green.” She grinned, dipping down to suck harsh bruises into his collar bones before trailing her lips up to his ear.

“Here’s how this is gonna work, baby. First, because you were so needy for my pussy all day, I’m gonna give it to you.” She pulled back slightly to study his face, an obvious expression of surprise there. She giggled.

“That’s right, Eds. I’m gonna ride your face. And you’re gonna make me come as many times as I want. And then, if I think you’ve learned your lesson, maybe I’ll play with your pretty cock.” His eyes rolled back in his head at her words. She lightly slapped his cheek to get his attention back on her.

“Is that clear?” He nodded, swallowing hard.

“Yes.” She smacked him a little harder, his head jilting to the side with the impact. He groaned at her movements.

“You know better than that. Try again, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She laid a chaste kiss to his lips before starting to shift up his body, finally straddling his head and holding onto their headboard to keep herself steady.

Eager as ever, Eddie was already craning his neck to swipe his tongue through her folds, causing her to let out a breathy sigh. She slowly started to let her hips grind down into his mouth as he worked her over with his tongue, suckling and swiping at her clit before dipping to her hole to lap up the wetness that was quickly pooling there. He fucked her with his tongue, letting her grind down on his chin, his nose notching deliciously against her clit with every bounce. She was a mess of moans above him, bringing one of her hands to play with her nipples as her head fell back in pleasure. He seemed to be enjoying himself too, letting out sweet little grunts and groans that sent thrums through her cunt. She glanced back behind her shoulder to see that his hips were weakly jolting into the air, his weeping cock an angry red color as it smeared pre-come all over his clenched tummy.

“Doing so good for me, baby– fuck, my good boy.” She could feel that thread of pleasure pulling taut, ready to snap as she rode his face. The room was a cacophony of the sloppy, wet noises of Eddie mouthing at her cunt, laid over her low moans and the sound of the bed creaking with each bounce. She came with a harsh cry, her hand reaching down to dig her fingers into his mussed curls.

“Think you can give me another one like this, pretty boy?” His eyes that had been furrowed shut blew wide open as he hummed into her cunt, nodding his head as best he could surrounded by the thickness of her thighs.

She grinned, her hips starting to twitch from the sensitivity as she kept swiveling on his mouth. He licked up into her again and she squealed, starting to fuck down onto his tongue as she trained her eyes on the way his hands were flexing against the restraints. She mused for a moment that those pantyhose would be shredded by the end of the night, but her thoughts were quickly blurred by the way he was now sucking at her clit. Her second orgasm wasn’t far away, not with the depraved way he was licking into her like he needed it more than air. Her belly clenched as she tipped over the edge for a second time, a broken yelp resounding through their bedroom as she tugged harshly on his hair. Her chest was heaving, sweat starting to pool in the hollow of her throat.

“Got a perfect mouth, Eds. Just have to give it something to do besides talk back, hmm?”

Her thighs shook as she lifted off his face, revealing his panting, fucked-out expression all coated in her slick. She slid down his body, once again straddling his stomach, her ass just barely brushing the tip of his leaking cock. Eddie tugged hard on his restraints, licking his lips with a salacious smack as his eyes darted all over her flushed body.

“Fuck– taste s’good, baby. Please–” His words came out slurred, cutting off in a sharp gasp when she sank back to drag the heat of her cunt along the underside of his cock. She shushed his whines, dragging her nails down his chest before finding purchase pressing into the firm softness of his stomach as she started to rock against him.

“Love it when you beg, Eds. You’ve been so good for me. Tell me what you want, baby.” They both gasped when the head of his cock notched at her entrance, but she was quick to slip away, making him whine.

“Want you– fuck– want your pussy– p-please–” She hummed, tilting her head as she looked down at his practically pained expression.

“Aw, but you’ve got my pussy, baby. Don’t you like how this feels?” She swirled her hips over his tip again, making him throw his head back into the pillows and let out a low curse.

“N-no– wanna be inside– please, baby– wanna fuck you.” Her hips stilled in their movement as she scoffed.

“You wanna fuck me? I don’t think so, champ.” She acted like she was going to get up off of him but he let out a pathetic whine that made her stop.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I meant– I– you– fuck me– want you to fuck me, please.” She grinned at his deep frown, the way his chest was heaving in frustration. She brought one hand to hold his jaw, keeping his gaze fixed on her.

“You think you deserve that, Eds? After you were such a brat?” She could see his Adam's apple bob with a gulp, his eyes swimming in unshed tears.

“Never be bad for you again, baby– just, fuck– please fuck me– I need you– please, please.” She shushed his blubbering, laying a sweet kiss to his cheek.

“You know I love it when you beg, pretty boy.” With that, she reached back, fisting his cock and guiding it through her folds before sinking down onto him in one stroke. The sound Eddie let out was inhuman, a broken warble in his throat as his hips immediately jolted up into hers, causing her to gasp as she pressed her palms into his chest to steady herself. She would have chastised him for his movement, but she had also worked herself up with all her teasing, and the feeling of his thick length filling her up was too good to care as she started ruthlessly bouncing down onto him. Eddie, meanwhile, was a blubbering mess.

“Shit, shit– s’good, so fucking good– thank you, thank you, thank you– jesus–” She snickered around a moan.

“Not quite, Eds. Be a good boy and say my name, huh? Who’s making you feel so good?” He let out a breathy chant of her name, eyes glued to the way her tits jiggled with each bounce of her hips. There was still a deep pout on his face and she brought her hand to thumb at the frown. Eddie huffed.

“Want a kiss, please.” She couldn’t help but indulge his petulant words, leaning down and meeting him in a tangle of tongues and clicking teeth that made him groan beneath her. She could tell he was getting close, with the way his breath was coming out in little gasps and his hips were trying to chase after hers. She pulled away, eliciting another whine from him.

“You close, Eds?” He nodded jerkily, letting out a pitched “mmhmm.” She sneered.

“Better not come until I say so.” His eyes went wide, pleading, but she shook her head at him.

“Good boys don’t come until they’re told to– fuck– thought you were my good boy, baby.” His hands yanked against his restraints again as he stammered out a reply.

“I am, I am! I’m your good boy– shit– please– let me come– please, baby.” She shook her head again, grinding her hips down hard into his pelvis, his dick hitting that perfect spot inside her that had her eyes rolling back. Apparently, it was good for Eddie too, as he let out a broken cry and she felt the warmth of him flooding her walls. Tears started to fall from his eyes, his lashes going sticky as he writhed under her and just kept coming. She gripped his jaw harshly, smushing his cheeks together.

“Someone just can’t listen to directions. It’s ok, baby, I forgive you.” He let out a whimpered “you do?” and she laughed at his pitiful state.

“Mmhmm, I got you too worked up. Unfortunately, you’re just gonna have to take it like this now.” With that, she picked up bouncing on his still-hard dick, causing him to let out a broken cry as his hips twitched and jerked in sensitivity.

“Fuck! S’too much, baby– you gotta stop– I can’t– shit!” She squeezed his sides.

“Color?” His reply was a gasped-out “green.” She smiled, continuing to grind on him as she brought her one hand down to play with her clit. Eddie was practically sobbing at that point, hiccuping on breaths as she rode him for all he was worth. He had enough sense left in him to keep tugging at his wrists.

“P-please– let me touch you, baby– make you feel so good– fuck– please.” Nearly on the edge of pleasure, she finally listened to his pleas, reaching up and untying his wrists. His hands were on her in an instant, one squeezing the swell of her ass as the other moved to her belly, thumb starting to harshly swipe at her clit.

“Fuck, Eds– so good for me– feel so good– just like that.” She came with a shrill yelp, hips stilling over his as she collapsed on top of him. He stroked his hands up and down her back as she shuddered through her high. Finally catching her breath, she pressed up to look at him, laying a quick kiss to his lips. They both whispered a small “hi” to each other, hazy smiles on both their faces. He winced hard, hissing as she pulled off him. The milky mixture of both their releases immediately started dribbling out of her, smearing over his stomach. She groaned at the sight, quickly swinging her leg over to rest on her side next to him.

“Was that ok for you, Eds?” He huffed out an incredulous laugh, flopping back against the mattress.

“More than ok. You rocked my world, sweetheart.” She giggled at his dramatics, but he cleared his throat, not done speaking.

“I’m sorry. For not listening, and for ruining your tights. I just– fuck– can’t get enough of you sometimes.” She sighed, brushing his dampened curls out of his face.

“I forgive you, baby. I think we both just need to work a little on communicating, you know? Telling each other what we need. And figuring out compromises.” He hummed at that, leaning over to lay a kiss on her lips. She smiled against his mouth.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, pretty boy.”

Hot water restored, they showered together, taking care of each other with tender touches and shared grins. Eddie let her wash his hair, practically purring as she dug her fingers through his roots, and he in turn carefully soaped every inch of her skin, laying kisses as the suds were rinsed away. All clean, they moved in tandem, he offering her one of his shirts to slip on as he shrugged on a fresh pair of boxers. They snuggled together in bed and she rubbed some of her lotion into his reddened wrists, the lavender kind that he liked the smell of. Finally, they both slumped into each other, bones all but liquid after the night they had. She rested her cheek on his bare chest, tracing his tattoos lightly. Eddie cleared his throat and she tilted her head up to look at him.

“I’ll, uh, get you more tights tomorrow, sweetheart.” She smiled, craning her neck to press a lazy kiss to his lips. He sighed.

“Might have to get you a few more pairs actually. Because that little wrist trick you pulled? Yeah, I’d like that again.” She laughed, settling back into his chest.

“Well, that can be arranged, Eds. Just get some of the cheap kind. You can ruin as many pairs of those as you want.”

“Now that is a tempting offer.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things

216 notes · View notes

hugmekenobi · 10 months

Text

Wardrobe Change

A Bad Batch Series interlude oneshot

Image from the Popverse courtesy of Lucasfilm (my gif searches were being very uncooperative)

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Summary: Times change, uniforms change and this new design has its fair share of admirations.

Warnings: No use of y/n, pet names (sweetheart), Cid being Cid, I make up a timeline, affectionate possessiveness, fluff and feelings, Force communication working how I say it does, PDA in the form of making out and affectionate biting, spicy/suggestive dialogue, getting caught/interrupted, awkwardness

Masterlist for Season 1 chapters

Word Count: 4.7K

Rating: 18+

Author’s notes: It’s the last of the oneshots before we get into S2! This was purely because I wanted to start S2 off with the armour changes being understood and so I didn’t have to describe them lol but I hope there’s more substance for y’all to enjoy! Big shout out to @hugmedin who helped me when I got hit with a bad bit of writer’s block and wrote a section of this, including my favourite line in this fic that had me freaking out when I read it, love you my guy!!

“Okay! I have them! Ugh this is so heavy!”

You all turned your attention over to the loud thud and you smiled as you saw Lyra collapsed over the container she had previously been carrying. She’d only just managed to get it through the doorway. “You should’ve told us. We’d have helped you bring it over.” You said as you stood up and walked over to her.

“It’s part of the service.” Lyra panted as she stood up and smoothed down her top. “I think you guys will like what I’ve done.”

“Can you get that out the way? It’s blocking the entrance! We don’t have all day for this. I have my own business to run!” Cid said by way of greeting.

“You weren’t exaggerating.” Lyra muttered.

“Give it 6 months and you’ll be on mildly better terms.” You uttered back with grin.

“Oi! Either help her or get out of her way. It’s bad enough you’re using my place as your fitting rooms!” Cid barked over at you.

“Better terms?” Lyra said with a small laugh.

“I did say mildly.” You replied, grabbing the other side of the box, and lifting it over to where the rest of your squad had congregated in the corner.

“Are they finally ready?” Omega asked excitedly as she gave Tech the datapad back.

“Omega, we haven’t finished-”

“Come on, Tech! I can do it later!” Omega griped.

Tech sighed in defeat.

“A quick break won’t hurt Tech.” You appeased.

“Let me see!” Omega said.

“Okay kid, hang on.” Lyra said with a smile. She opened the box and began the process of handing the updated armour out. “I played around a bit with them.”

“How much?” Hunter and Echo asked warily as they took theirs from her.

“Don’t stress. It’ll all look perfect. I changed the colours and symbols as requested but I got rid of a couple things that weren’t really necessary. You guys have more civilian type clothing to wear underneath now, rather than just those blacks you’d handed over. And that means you don’t have to always change into these clothes you’re wearing now if you want to take your armour off. Oh, and your codpieces are gone.”

“You took away a whole section of our armour?” Tech asked sceptically as he took his.

“They were annoying me.” She replied simply. “And I don’t think you’re in a position to act like it’s a super crucial piece you’re missing. You don’t have any thigh armour. That wasn’t a change I made, that was all you.” She added pointedly.

Tech opened his mouth to protest but he couldn’t think of a rebuttal fast enough.

You chuckled as you watched Tech walk away, mumbling something under his breath about how it suits his needs just fine.

“Where’s mine?” Omega asked eagerly.

“Alright kid. Here you go.” Lyra passed the pile of clothes over to Omega who grabbed them keenly and dashed off to change.

“Did I see a hat?” You asked as you watched her turn the corner.

“It makes the outfit.” Lyra replied with a smile.

You laughed. “I won’t question your style.”

“Good. Cause now it’s your turn.”

“You only changed the colour, right?”

“In a way…”

“Lyra…”

“Calm down. It’s nothing crazy. I still kept the hood and mask element you like. I just started from scratch. The top you bought from me before isn’t really suitable for what you do. I didn’t realise you operated with no armour at all. If I gave you the original one back, it would only be a matter of time before you had rips in it. I’m surprised it was in one piece for so long.”

“Okay… so?”

“So, I got my hands on this new material that is generally just sturdier so that’ll help, and you have some armour of your own.”

“Armour?” You said sceptically as you watched her reach down.

“Not a lot.” She reassured you. “I figured you liked the freedom of movement, it’s just a couple of things. Here’s the top.”

You took it from her, and you could already tell that it was better quality. The black fabric was thick but when you put it over your head, it fit snugly but still allowed for flexible movement. The mask and hood were indeed still there and where your previous top had red lining on the outside, this one now had a turquoise. Your eyes also noted the small white half skull that seemed to have been another element that was carried over. “And this was an essential thing you needed to keep?” You said, pointing to the sign.

Lyra grinned. “You both like it and don’t try to deny it.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled with her. “This is perfect though, thanks!”

“I’m not done.” She handed over the additional pieces to your ensemble.

You took the small parts of armour she’d give you. They were black and decorated with a mix of white and turquoise stripes. You also realised they were like the ones Hunter wore on his forearms. She’d also added a pair of black gloves.

“This means you’re also getting rid of that horrendous thing keeping that vibroblade on your thigh.” Lyra ordered.

“There’s nothing wrong with it!” You said defensively, glancing down to your thigh where your vibroblade was encased. Sure, the strap was fraying, and it was no longer the same colour as it was when you had first got it and some of the leather was showing cracks, but it served its purpose just fine. Plus, it had been with you through a lot of highs and lows and although a mantra throughout your life had been ‘no attachments,’ you had found that both Hunter and this strap were exceptions to the rule and you were rather fond of it.

Lyra just gave you a sad look. “Look at it. It’s disgusting. Throw it in here and never think about it again.” She insisted, turning the box towards you.

You sighed and chucked your vibroblade on the table before you threw your old strap into the empty container. You attached the new pieces to your forearms before you sheathed your vibroblade into the one on your left arm. You then put the next pieces that ran from your shoulders to the end of your upper arm. You were annoyed to find that Lyra was right, and you didn’t feel restricted by having them there.

“And you told me yourself your blaster holster is a hand-me-down from Tech. Put that one away too.”

“You were just waiting for a chance to upgrade my stuff weren’t you?” You grumbled as you took your blaster out and removed your holster. It joined your old vibroblade strap.

“Oh yeah.” Lyra said with a smug smile.

You attached the new holster to your thigh and put your blaster in it. “Happy now?” You asked, gesturing up and down your body.

“You look hot!” Lyra said as she circled you, studying how you looked with the new parts on.

“Shut up.” You laughed, slightly flustered.

“Your sergeant is a lucky guy. How’d your secret project got by the way?”

Before you could reply, a shout got both of your attention.

“We’re ready! I love it!”

You turned to the sound of Omega’s voice, and you grinned as you saw her delighted expression. It had been a while since Kamino and Omega had definitely grown so it was about time she had something that fit with that, and she did now. She had grey bottoms and a red top which was worn underneath a light blue layer, and she had red fabric wrapped around her right wrist. The hat was a cute touch as well. The rest of your squad also looked pretty good. It was odd though, seeing them in colours that weren’t the signature ones they used wear and any insignia illustrating them being Clone Force 99 being gone.

Lyra clapped her hands together. “I truly outdid myself! You guys look fabulous!”

“Yeah, you guys look great!” You added.

Wrecker and Omega beamed, whilst Tech and Echo merely gave small nods.

“You look great too!” Omega said as she walked over to you.

“Yeah, Hunter’s got colours like that too. You guys’ll look good!” Wrecker added.

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “Speaking of that, where is our fearless leader?” You asked.

“He wanted to rearrange the scarf.” Echo replied.

“Scarf?” You repeated, your throat going dry. You looked over to Lyra.

She shrugged. “I like accessories. Sue me.”

You turned your head over to the sound of Hunter coming back into the main area and it took everything in you not to stare at him for an abnormal amount of time. His armour, like the rest of theirs had maintained most of its original structure-minus the codpiece- and his colours were indeed similar to the ones you had. He had the more civilian looking clothes underneath with the rest of his armour donning a mix of black, white, and turquoise. He had the same bit of orange running down the centre of his chest plate like his brothers had and his helmet still had half of it painted white to match the skull tattoo on his face. The red wrappings around his wrists mirrored the one Omega had and the red scarf… well the scarf was definitely a nice added feature.

Hunter nearly did a double take as he saw you. You looked… well you looked powerful, capable. Not that you didn’t look like that already but there was something about seeing you with actual armour that accentuated that part of you. Plus, the fact he was wearing colours that matched with yours was an added bonus.

“Well, my work here is done!” Lyra said cheerily as she bent down to grab the now empty case.

Hunter tore his eyes away from you and nodded his thanks to her before he saw that you were still looking at him. “What?” He asked as he joined the others and grabbed a drink. He brought his cup to his lips.

“Nothing. Looks good.” You said casually, turning away to follow Lyra out. Just thinking of all the things a scarf can do that a bandana can’t.

The choked splutter that followed had you smirking to yourself as you walked out the door.

“You sure we don’t owe you anything for this?” You double checked as you both stood outside the entrance to Cid’s.

Lyra shook her head. “You guys helped me out when I was being harassed by Marco and his goons. We’re even now.”

“Yeah, but getting to beat up Marco and Co is fun.” You said lightly. “You don’t need to repay us for that.”

“I wanted to. Besides, it was actually kinda fun. I haven’t had a project like that to work on in a while. Just point people in my direction if they ask who did this fabulous work and we’re all good.”

You huffed out a laugh. “You got it. I’ll see you around, Lyra. Thank you.”

“Yeah, see you around!” She grabbed her stuff and walked away.

You fished the necklace out your pocket and studied the small symbol on the end of the black leather cord. It wouldn’t be noticeable under his clothes and armour. You just hoped he would like it.

You and Hunter seemed to find any excuse to gravitate towards one another and touch each other, even if it was nothing more than a simple touch that lasted a matter of seconds. Yes, you’d started it with your comment about the scarf, but he really wasn’t helping with things. The air between the two of you had been charged ever since you’d walked back down those steps and now every touch sent warmth flooding through you, and you were sure it was the same for him. To the others, the hand wrapped around your shoulder seemed completely innocent since you were all engaged in casual conversations, but it sent a thrumming through your veins you couldn’t control. And, judging by the way he’d tensed up when you’d laid your hand on his thigh, you weren’t the only one. You all had shed your armour since Cid didn’t have a mission so that definitely wasn’t making things any easier for you.

It felt like a test. Who was going to be the one to give in first? You really didn’t want it to be you and you think you had a way to do that. As Wrecker and Omega got up to go play a game of Dejarik, with Tech and Echo going to watch, you turned to face him. “Can I talk to you outside?”

Hunter looked at you quizzically but nodded and followed you as you stood up.

You made your way to the exit.

“Where are you going?” Omega asked as she waited for Wrecker to make his move.

“We’ll be back.” You replied.

“Everything okay?” Hunter asked as you began to pace in front of him.

“Yes. I just- Look I’m- What I’m trying-.” You stopped with an aggravated huff. You’d rehearsed this countless times in your head, and it wasn’t a big deal, worst he could say was no.

“Sweetheart.” Hunter grabbed your wrist to get you to stop walking. “Take a breath, look at me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t call me that.”

Hunter tilted his head. “Why not? You usually don’t mind it. In fact, you tend to quite enjoy it.” He added with a smirk.

You shot him a playful glare and removed his hand which had worked its way to your waist. “Yes, exactly. You’re distracting me and I have a plan here. You’re not going to ruin it with your-” You didn’t finish your sentence, you just gestured to him.

Hunter held his hands up in mock surrender and leaned against the edge of the entry way.

You inhaled deeply and started pacing again. “I consider myself a pretty independent person, you know? Not one to be dependent on much, certainly not a man in my life. But then you come along, and suddenly I’m finding particular things I thought I would hate, quite, well, quite attractive. Take this for example.” You pointed to the half skull on your top. “I was convinced I would hate it, but I don’t. I don’t mind the message it sends.” You stopped and faced him. “However, I can’t just be what this suggests. You’re a part of me, the whole squad is, but I don’t want to be seen as someone whose only purpose is to belong to you.”

Hunter straightened up as he addressed you. “I know that. If I’ve given you reason to believe otherwise, I’m sorry. I’m sure Lyra could change it. I didn’t mean-”

“Hunter, I know.” You reassured him. “That’s not what I’m saying. I only mean I thought it would be nice if you maybe had something that- uh.” You broke off with an awkward cough before you continued, “Represented me.” You brought the necklace out and handed it to him.

“Where’d you make that?” Hunter asked quietly as he studied the necklace which had attached to it a tiny metallic symbol. A symbol he’d seen many times during the Clone Wars. It was the symbol for the Jedi Order.

“Lyra gave me access to her stuff. Don’t worry, she didn’t know exactly what I was doing.” You added quickly as you saw the concern that flashed across his face. You looked down at the ground and scuffed the toe of your boot through the dirt. “Do you like it? I know it’s a bit risky but figured you could conceal it easily enough and I-” The strong hands on your waist that guided you backwards to the wall cut you off. You glanced up but before you could take your next breath, Hunter’s lips met yours and what little resistance you had left crumbled, but hey, technically he kissed you first, so you counted it as a win. You let him press his body tight to yours and you kissed him eagerly. You like it then?

Hunter didn’t answer directly. He just kissed along your jaw and nipped the skin by the spot behind your ear that he knew would elicit a moan from you and you didn’t disappoint. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He said, still out of breath and his voice even lower than what it usually was.

You released a sigh and your head fell back against the wall as he continued to leave marks on the skin of your neck. I have a pretty good idea.

“I’m serious.” He slid his hand on your cheek, so you were forced to look at him and he very nearly lost it. Your eyes were wide, and your breathing was still uneven, and he wanted nothing more than to continue but he needed to say this first. “From the minute you showed up on Devaron to help, I was enthralled by you. You took out a line of droids with nothing more than a slightly longer vibroblade on your back and acted like it was a regular day. Sure, later on we discovered there was a bit more reason behind that.”

You smiled slightly but your eyes dipped down as a wave of guilt washed over you at the memory of your dishonesty.

“Hey.” Hunter said softly as he saw your mind leave the current moment. He tucked his finger under your chin and angled your face back up. “That’s not why I brought it up. Don’t go back there. Stick with me here cause there’s a point to all this, I promise.”

You sighed and nodded.

Hunter breathed deeply. “You were incredible and there was no hesitation from me, or the others quite frankly, when it came to offering a place with us. I just underestimated the impact you were going to have on my life. It didn’t take long for my brothers to start giving me a hard time, but I was too stubborn to listen.”

Join the club.

He smiled at you before he continued. “Remember, when there was that stampede of Reeks and I got hurt. It was about two months after you’d joined us?” When he saw you nod, he carried on, “You remember how I got injured?”

“The last dregs of the Separatist droids sent a final charge our way. The blast meant I slipped and fell into the cavern where they were running. You came after me and pushed me out the way.” You said softly.

“Yeah, I did. I- I was in love with you then.”

“Well, then we were on very similar timelines.” You revealed with a smile.

Hunter huffed out a laugh. “So, fast forward to now. You’re wearing something that ties you to me and I don’t think you realise exactly the effect that has on me. And then I come out to see I’m wearing the same the colours you are. And to top it off, you’re asking me to wear something that ties me to you? I can say with no hesitation that you’re a part of me too.” With that, he looped it over his neck.

You took a shaky breath as you watched him put it on and you understood why the half skull on your top had meant so much to him. “You think the colours thing only mattered to you? Why do you think I had to give it to you now?” You murmured. “You were killing me in there.”

Hunter nuzzled into your neck. “That why you dragged me out here? Couldn’t wait?” He muttered into your skin and began to place light kisses on your neck, altering what side had his attention.

“That why you followed me out here?” You countered as you struggled to keep your composure.

“I thought you wanted to talk.” Hunter replied, his eyes lifting to yours, an unspoken challenge behind them.

“I-I did talk.” You maintained.

“And now?”

“And now I’m done.” You grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him with fervour. And I’m counting this as a win. You broke first.

Hunter chuckled and moved so his lips brushed against your jawline again as his hand trailed from your cheek down to your neck where it stopped for a moment before he continued, and his palm came to rest on the left side of your chest. Your heartbeat pounded beneath his fingertips.

You didn’t let him linger there too long. Wrapping your hands around the back of his neck, you pulled him in even closer and bucked your hips forward into him in an attempt to banish the remaining space between the two of you. As you did so Hunter let out a moan into the crook of your neck and the resulting vibrations sent your mind to mush. Your hands frantically grabbed at his shirt, the fabric bunching in between your fingers as you tried to bring him even closer. You let out a frustrated moan, you felt like he was holding back, and you were losing patience.

Hunter let out a soft chuckle and you could feel his smile against your skin, genuine and unfiltered. “Relax.” he whispered into your ear. “I’m right here.”

Your hands slid from his waist up the length of his back, his muscles rigid but warm against your palm. You nipped at his ear, your hips still bucking into him, and you’d never been more thankful that Lyra had gotten rid of the cod pieces, but it also meant you became more and more desperate.

“I need you closer.” Your voice came out strained as you looked up at him and you made no attempt to disguise your desire as you continued to press yourself against him.

“That can be arranged.”

The lights in the alleyway were dim but you could have sworn you saw a glimmer form in his eyes, the kind that only appeared when the two of you were alone. Upon seeing that, all sensible thoughts about the risks of doing this in public left your head completely.

Bending down ever so slightly he brought both his hands to the back of your thighs lifting you up against the wall in one swift movement. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he held you in position against the wall. Your fingers found themselves wrapped up in Hunter’s hair which you used to gently tug his face away from where he was placing deep kisses along your collarbone. He let out a deep sigh which caught in his throat and resembled something close to a growl. As you held his head there you allowed yourself a moment to admire the way his eyes had grown darker, and his chest and shoulders heaved as he caught his breath. His lips remained parted as he patiently waited for instructions from you. Removing your hand from his hair you brought it back to caress his tattooed cheek, this time allowing your thumb to softly trail his lower lip.

He drew you into a deep kiss, the kind that left your lips raw and your lungs begging for oxygen that you swore you could definitely live without - but eventually you had to give into your reflex and come up for air.

Hunter broke away first, bringing his forehead to rest tenderly against yours. His hands reached under your top; his gloved hands caressed your skin. “You sure about doing this here? I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop once-”

Yes. You nodded eagerly but before you were able to continue, a horrified shout got both of your attention.

“Ugh are you kidding me! You two really couldn’t wait?! Ugh my eyes!” Wrecker complained as he instantly turned away from the scene in front of him.

Hunter quickly let you down and he was sure your mortified expression matched his and you both turned to face the backs of Wrecker and Echo.

“Oh, uh, hey boys. What, eh, what brings you out here?” You winced out as you adjusted your top.

At the sound of your feet hitting the ground, Echo turned to face you both and gave a disapproving stare. “Omega is about to play Tech and wanted to see if any of you wanted the next round so, we came out to ask. She nearly left to ask herself, but I figured based on past experience-”

“Okay.” Hunter interrupted him before he went any further.

You can turn around, Wrecker.

Wrecker took you at your word. “What happened to talking?”

“I mean… we did talk. Just got a bit carried away.” Your eyes focused on fiddling with the end of your sleeve.

“I’ll say.” Wrecker griped.

“That’s the third time this month. We’ve talked about this. It was bad enough when Tech interrupted you guys in the cockpit.” Echo chastised you both.

Hunter couldn’t find any words. He just kept his eyes on the ground.

“Hey, you didn’t have to listen to the lecture he gave afterwards on the importance of hygiene and sanitation.” You grumbled.

“You’ve been lucky it hasn’t been Omega yet.” Echo continued, paying little attention to your words.

You knew he was right. The two of you had been pretty reckless lately and the very fact Omega hadn’t been one of the unfortunates to witness said reckless moments is something you thanked the Force for. “I’m sorry, we’ll be better.”

“Yeah, sorry boys. It won’t happen again.” Hunter said firmly.

A few beats of uncomfortable silence passed.

“You guys aren’t coming back down any time soon, are you?” Echo asked reluctantly as he nodded to where both of your hands were.

The two of you hadn’t noticed the new places your hands had found themselves in. Your fingers were lightly tracing up and down Hunter’s arm whilst his had found itself around your waist again and his thumb rubbed up and down your side. Upon hearing Echo’s words, you both glanced at each other. Tell Omega I owe her a game. We’ll be back later tonight. You said in a way of reply, your brain slowly starting to block the presence of the other two out.

Echo sighed tiredly. “Just get out of here. Come on, Wrecker. We probably don’t want to linger here much longer.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Wrecker hastily turned on his heels and walked back down the steps to Cid’s, with Echo following close behind.

“Well… that could’ve been worse.” You mumbled into his shoulder after they left before you trailed a line of kisses along his neck, your teeth lightly grazed his skin.

“I can’t say I can see how. That was- that was pretty awkward.” Hunter managed to stammer out.

“I could’ve been in a more compromising position.” You purred as your hand trailed down his chest and you made to kneel in front of him. You knew he was feeling more sensible, and you definitely knew it was better to head back to the Marauder but that didn’t mean you couldn’t have your fun.

He swiftly tugged you back up and shook his head at you as he saw the cat-like grin on your face. “Careful, or I’ll have to continue this here anyway.” Hunter groaned as you slowly ground your hips against him.

“Promises, promises.” You whispered back, tugging his lip between your teeth and you took pleasure in the low moan that left him. Your hands kept a tangled grip in the scarf as you kissed him and tugged him to you.

Before he really did get too carried away, Hunter pulled away, but he still kept you tight to him. “I believe you had some thoughts for the use of this scarf? I got some ideas.” Hunter rasped.

“Hmm, I’m much more of a practical learner.” You hummed against his lips.

Stifling a groan, Hunter kissed you once more before he wrapped an arm around your waist and the two of you hustled away to the Marauder.

Masterlist

Tagging@ @noeasyisnoisy, @tpwkcalli, @fuckoffthanos, @arctrooper69, @graciexmarvel, @flyingkangaroo, @nightmonkeysstuff, @a-streakofazure, @ladytano420, @dragonrider9905, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf, @yyourmotherr, @xxeiraxx

#the bad batch #hunter x reader #hunter x fem!reader #hunter x femalejedi!reader #hunter x female!reader #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #the bad batch hunter x you #hunter x y/n #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars #friends to lovers #smut

145 notes · View notes

my-mt-heart · 7 months

Note

My weekly essay quiz:

There's nothing in terms of shipbaiting on the show so far that makes me concerned about where it's going. There's no chemistry between Isabelle and Daryl, and it's not played like there should be. Each episode has reinforced that Isabelle is a nun, that she chose her life and it's an informed decision because she used to lead a very different life. Everything she does is for Laurent. He is her raison d'être. Anna, the nightclub singer and Quinn's (I assume) bedwarmer, has a line which sums up the episode and Isabelle's emotional drive: "Women need a damn good reason to come back." There's a beat with Quinn's non-reaction to her insignificance. "Sometimes a damn good reason to stay." Isabelle has stayed (alive) for Laurent and she will go back to Quinn for Laurent.

However, the show does "borrow" Caryl/Carol beats liberally, which is cheap, annoying and lazy writing. Make Isabelle a character in her own right—Clémence could've carried the weight of this show if they'd let her— don't make her go back to her old life and her emotionally abusive boyfriend to protect her child. In 104, we see Laurent hiding from walkers underneath a sheet of corrugated steel, much like Sophia underneath the car on the highway, including the walker trying to get to him. Earlier in the episode, Daryl told Isabelle when he found out the boy was missing that, "He's a smart kid. He's running, he's hiding," but there's no urgency to his words, unlike when he was searching for Sophia.

In that same scene, when Daryl first walks into the apartment and finds Isabelle there, he asks her if she's okay. There's none of the careful tone he usually uses for Carol when he knows she's fragile; the camera is on Daryl, so we can see from his face that there are no emotional stakes on his part. Isabelle's been out searching for the kid all night and his is the first friendly face she sees, so she hugs Daryl. Judging by the body language, it's because she needs to connect with someone, anyone. The camera is still on Daryl when he hugs Isabelle back or, really, offers her some basic comfort. He's hesitant and slow in putting his arms around her and he just sort of places them there. There's no squeeze, no melting into each other's embrace. It's almost impersonal.

Sylvie asking Isabelle if she's ever had romantic feelings for anyone after she took her vows serves two purposes. One, to drive Sylvie's arc—she's the young nun who's had no other life and meets a dashing young man in the big city, so it's a standard romance trope used as a foil for Isabelle's arc. In each episode so far, Isabelle has emphasized that young people know of nothing else. They have had no options. She's lived, loved and made mistakes. Isabelle has no reason to lie to Sylvie about her own feelings when she says she was simply concerned for Daryl, not emotionally invested (at least not for his own sake). She's entrusting her nephew, a boy who means everything to her, in his care and Daryl had just acted completely unhinged when they interrogated Quinn's henchman, so whatever concern she felt was completely justified.

(Emotionally unstable men don't make for good love interests if you're looking for a happy ending and Isabelle is far from naïve.)

Speaking of the interrogation scene, the misogyny is so strong. The captured goon speaks about Isabelle (to her) in much the same way Ed spoke to Carol, echoing whatever mean streak keeps Quinn alive and breathing. Isabelle is an obsession, a possession he wants. Daryl doesn't understand a word that's said because it's all in French and Isabelle doesn't translate that she's being called a whore. (The translation offered onscreen is "slut," but the word used is "putain.") Daryl loses his shit on the guy, but it has nothing to do with anything going on in the scene (because he doesn't understand 90% of the conversation) and is just out of character. He's calculated and brutish, telling a story about "Jimmy, the runt of the neighborhood and incidental pig sticker," which seems intended to scare the other guy, but he doesn't speak much English, beyond "she very bad girl," so what's the point if it's lost on him anyway?

The "battered wife" ambiance is coating everything in this episode. I've mentioned the pervading misogyny before, but it's not solely in relation to Isabelle. Anna, too, is used (and pretending like she has agency) and Sylvie is young and unworldly, she should be getting an "how to stay safe in the real world" talk from someone who knows it's not all butterflies in the stomach.

Nothing about this show (so far) is butterflies in the stomach.

France/Paris is pretty. The second unit does some fabulous work in all the episodes I've seen. Cinematography is top notch. The set design and the VFX are not. It feels like the set dressers might come from stage or maybe studio set productions (like sitcoms) where you have limited space and all props need to be arranged to maximize visual angles. There's a strange feeling of corridor design in all outdoor sets, much like a janky computer game with low resolution textures. Buildings in the distance are all a blurry soft focus, so we won't spot that the kudzu and the decay either look painted on or pixelated. The green screen is an immersion breaking corneal abrasion and the Eiffel Tower does some gravity defying feats.

DD is supposed to be an arty action adventure, I guess...? I think Norman was going for an "elevated," more European feel to the show, like what you'd see produced on local TV in continental Europe, but they'd need European writers who won't cram the show with every trite cliché Americans might assume is true of France. Zabel (and his crony Richman, who only get jobs by handing them to each other) write somewhat campy/soapy drama, with a bent toward white man's history and copious biblical references, so action scenes aren't in the wheel house of either man and every single fight scene has been cringe worthy.

If Norman and/or Nicotero wanted "something completely different" from the flagship show, the showrunner would still need to have seen TWD to know what they're subverting and to keep the characters in character, so we don't end up with the toxic mess that seemed to sum up much of Daryl in the episode.

[SF]

Thank you for all of this 🙏 Hopefully people find it helpful. I only watched a 10s clip of Daryl talking about Jimmy and it was enough to upset me. Daryl didn’t sound like himself at all. This is not an art project, it’s a TV show based on a character with some of the best development in history. Story matters. Voice matters. Continuity matters. Why does nobody in charge seem to care? (That’s rhetorical).

#caryl #caryl spinoff #carol peletier #melissa mcbride #darylneedscarol

24 notes · View notes

atthebell · 3 months

Note

atp this website should just let me opt in to tags im willing to see rather than blocking this many

Do you ever feel like you run out of qsmp content to consume on tumblr because of the blocked tags?

^ not at all a criticism of blocking tags, I do it liberally lol, just curious because it happens to me sometimes

not really; part of the reason why i have to block so many tags is because i follow so many people in order to see a lot of qsmp stuff. because i like keeping up to date with as many characters as possible i like to see a lot of stuff, but that also means seeing shit i don't want to see or seeing incredibly stupid & biased takes from people who only main one POV (at which point i usually just block and move on with my life; if you can't step outside your characters pov for single second, you're not working with this medium right).

i DO have issues with not seeing enough about roier and cellbit on my dash honestly-- i hear every detail about tubbo and bad and foolish's streams, but whenever i miss a cellbit stream i know ill have to watch it back myself because people won't have said what happened because there's such fewer cellbit fans on here, and same goes for roier. although there's definitely more spanish speakers on here than brazilians so i do get some of what happens on his streams. in general, though, there are like three people on here who care about cellbit enough to post about him and im one of them so :/ i need to up the propaganda or something i feel like im going insane

there's also far less fanart on here than there is for other mcyt fandoms, which is sad, so i do often find myself combing through every character's tag hoping to find new art but ive already found it all. this isn't a criticism of fanartists, qsmp just isn't as popular on here and that's reflected in the amount of art.

anyway i don't really have a hard time finding content about most characters but there's a few where it is a struggle, though not because of blocking tags. and the reason i block so many tags is because i just do not share the same taste in other media as the people i follow, so i pretty much have to block whatever other stuff they post about or ill want to scream. and bc i have every variation of cc & q neg blocked along with usual tws.

i suppose because of how many people i have blocked im probably missing some qsmp content, but i have people blocked because they're awful and post misinfo or are just annoying so like. im not gonna unblock them just to see bad analyses of bad or cellbit or tubbo on my dash. i have a few things that earn an instant block from me, and misinfo is a big one, along with just being mean as hell or bigoted in some way. idk im very particular about cultivating my dash and although im frustrated often, that's more due to the state of fandom & online culture in general at the moment (bad) than all that specific to this fandom.

#asks #anons #idfk what this is #anyway. no to the actual question #but yes i do not see enough content but only about specific characters #i DO think i follow too many people tbh #bc i keep getting pissed off sbout how much [redacted] is on my dadh #but i think thats somewhat unavoidable atm. cries.#i should probably just go on twitter more and turn off the part of my brain that understands ptbr whenever i see blocks of text/qrts #or like. idfk i need to see more spider.bit im on my knees guys. please.#how is the biggest ship in the fandom so small on here (its tumblr and mostly eng speakers thats why)

6 notes · View notes

loveneversleepss · 1 year

Text

Target!Hyunjin x villain!femalereader

Part 1~

Switch povs(Hyunjin pov, reader/thought pov)

^little dash is when the pov changes~

Warnings: Some angst, kidnapped!mentions, gore/blood?, manipulation, smut duh, reader has a vagina, oral(giving), cursing, unprotected sex(don’t do this), brat!reader, switch!hyunjin, Mentions of feeling undeserving, Nicknames (princess, angel, baby), cock-riding, creampie.

Genre: non-idol au, slightly based on fnaf idk, pining, best friend Hyunjin, frenemies to lovers?

About: You have been missing for about 2 years after Hyunjin’s dad kidnapped and blackmailed you. You become his puppet and he assigns you a task about his son Hyunjin. He wants you to keep him quiet.

“You want me to what?” You say with a bit of anger in your voice. He turns around and looks down at you. Immediately feeling like a mouse about to be captured by a hungry cat.

“You heard me.. don’t act stupid.” You can tell he is angry and you messed up by raising your voice.

“I want you to keep him quiet. He is getting too curious and he will mess everything up..”

You look down at your hands, fidgeting. You start to think. ‘How could I do that to him? He never did anything to me. Hyunjin was my best friend. Was.. until I got caught up in a big mess I couldn’t get out of. His father kidnapped me because.. well he is a murder. I caught him in the act and that’s how it all happened. Now he wants me to keep his son quiet. I haven’t seen him in years.’

Your thinking gets interrupted by his father putting a knife on the desk in front of you. You quickly look up at him and down at the knife. “You recognize this yes? It’s what got you into this in the first place.” How could you forget. It was the knife he used to kill all those kids years ago. Those poor, poor kids. You pick it up and look at him. “You are very skilled now. I’ve trained you well and well this isn’t the first time you killed someone..” right. I will never forgive myself for it.

Maybe I can get out of this. I can ask Hyunjin for help.. what if he doesn’t believe me? For all he knows he’ll think I’m a murder. Those poor kids who went “missing”, that were actually killed by his father, went missing at the same time as me. I don’t think he will believe me. I don’t think I could kill him. Maybe I deserve to die. I won’t do it. I won’t hurt him.

“What are you thinking about? You think if you tell my son what you’re doing he’ll believe you? Trust me I have plenty of dirt on you to make everyone believe you killed those kids. That you actually blackmailed me into being quiet.” Your eyes flicker up to his and you can’t believe him. “Haven’t I proven my loyalty to you?” He laughs at your words. He grabs the knife and places your hand on the desk. He holds the knife directly above your fingers.

“Sure you have done stuff for me before but you can never be so sure.. You will do this. Plus my son hates you. He always used to tell me how annoying you were and how you only cared about yourself. He pitied you because you didn’t have many friends and your little siblings got along.” He cuts your skin a little as you wince out of pain. He puts the knife down and walks out.

No way. That’s not the Hyunjin I know.. right? He wouldn’t have said that? Right? Now that I think of it he did say something like that once to me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“god you’re so fucking annoying! Do you ever think of me once?” Hyunjin yells out in frustration. You have been fighting for a couple minutes and you immediately get quiet. He never yells out like that. His face immediately changes as his hands are placed on your shoulders. “Wait y/n I didn’t mean that..”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maybe I was fooling myself all along. Playing this version of him that was all wrong. Guess tonight’s the night. You look at the fresh cut on your hand now. It’ll be worse for me if I don’t do this. ~

*time skippppp

“Make sure to wash up before you go to bed!” My mom yells at me as I walk up the stairs. “Kay goodnight mom!” “Night Hyunjin!” I walk past my the dim hallway as I stomp my toe into a box. Dammit. “Fuck!” I yell out in pain. “Ooh that’s a bad worddd.” My little sibling tells me as his head peaks out of his door. “Quiet. This is your fault. Why do you have your box of toys in the hallway?” He giggles as he quickly shuts his door. I roll my eyes as I walk into my room, lock the door and into my bathroom.

THUD. I am brushing my teeth as I hear something. I spit out the remaining toothpaste and wipe my mouth. I open my door quietly as the light from my bathroom provides a bit of light. I walk and see a picture fell of my wall. I pick it up and notice it’s a picture of me and y/n. I put it on my desk to put it up later. God I miss her. I miss how she smells and how her laugh sounds when she laughs at my not so funny jokes. How she has a skip in her walk when she’s happy or when she eats she always loves to feed others.

Creak. I turn around and see a figure. “Who’s there?” I say and turn on the lamp next to me. No way. “What don’t recognize your bestie?” Y/n says as she walks towards me from the window.

“Y/n.. Am I dreaming?” She laughs at my question. God that smile. I take notice of her outfit, a baggy shirt with a short skirt. Clean thoughts..

“Did you miss me?” She takes a few steps closer to me as she is now standing in front of me. I can smell her scent. Her sweet smell that makes me want to stay by her side all day. “God. Where have you been?” She looks away and takes a few steps to where I set the picture down. Her fingers trace the frame. “I needed to get away for a while..” I’m confused. “For 2 years?!” She looks back at me at my sudden raise in my voice. She bites her bottom lip.

“2 years.. right.” She starts to walk over to me again. I reach my hand up as I softly touch her her arm. Her soft skin that makes me want to do naughty things. I look into her eyes maintaining eye contact. “Why didn’t you call me? I was worried about you. Everyone is. All those missing kids..” She looks at the floor. “Do you know what happened to those kids?” You eyes shoot up as she gives me this look. A look I’ve never seen before besides when my dad is angry.

Her look softens as her hands wrap around my neck. Her warmth is so intoxicating. Her lips that look oh so kissable. Her eyes piercing into mine just daring me to do something. “You didn’t answer my question.” She says as her mouth leans into my ear. Her fingers tugging at my hair, making me groan a little. “What question?” Her lips softly trail over my neck. “Did you miss me, Jinnie?” Fuck yes. You have no idea how bad I wanted to see you again. To make you mine and have you under me. To have you screaming my name and scratching at my back. I gulp as I answer, “of course I did. You have no idea.” She pulls away and she grabs my chin. ~

Fucking liar. I bet he was so happy that I was gone. He’s lying so hard to me. I can sense it. I think about the knife that’s lodged safely onto my back. Ready to use whenever you need. “I missed you. did you think about me when I was gone?”

He nods his head yes. “Words, my pretty boy.” You coo at him. His mouth opening a bit. ~

Your pretty boy? Yes I fucking am.~

How this moment will be engraved in your mind. The final words before everything changes. Your hand slowly reaches to your back to the knife as you hear the most earth shattering words.

“I wanted.. to make you mine.”

What. What did he just say to me? Your thoughts are interrupted by his hands cupping your cheeks. “I wanted nothing more in the world for you to come back.. I-I won’t ever let you go again. So please don’t leave again. I will go wherever you go. Please stay.” His eyes flicker to your lips then back up. “Turn around.” You order him. He looks at you confused and he does. You quickly take the knife out and slide it quietly under his bed.

Your hands reach around his waist as you pull him in. Your lips softly placing kisses on his covered back. You hear him gasp softly. He turns you around and pushes you against the wall. “If we do this. You can’t leave.” He tells me. I nod my head. “I want this.” He immediately lays his lips onto yours. Lips colliding as he lets a soft groan. Your leg goes up as it wraps around his waist. His slowly hardening crouch hits yours. A gasp leaves your mouth as he takes it as a opportunity to slide his tongue inside. Your arms are wrapped around his neck while one of his hands is on your cheek and the other on your waist. His hand starts to move you to add some friction between your bodies. You both let out a soft moan as you pull apart to catch your breath.

You grab him and push him against the wall now. Your mouth connecting to his neck, sucking softly. Which will definitely leave marks for him to find in the morning. You reach at the bottom of his shirt and pull it over his head. You step back as you take off yours leaving you in your bra and skirt. You kiss down his body and reach his lower stomach. You look up at him with innocent wide eyes as you smile. He groans and lets his head fall against the wall. You button his pants and pull them down with his boxers in one quick motion.

You take his member in your hand as he brings his head back up to watch you. Your hand starts to lightly stroke him as you kiss his head lightly. He whimpers as his hips buck up a bit. “So sensitive.” You tease and he whimpers out again. ~

Part 2.

For @bubblelixie who always supports and likes my posts🤧🫶.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids series #stray kids smut #stray kids stay #straykids hard hours #straykids smut #hyunjin #skz #skz scenarios #skz hyunjin #skz smut #skz imagines #skz x reader #fnaf fandom

56 notes · View notes

petrichoraline · 7 months

Note

bl ask meme:

🎥 fav trope

👀 love triangles

🙄 overhyped

what a delight seeing you in my inbox aaa 🥰🥰

🎥 fave trope

sucker for forced proximity honestly. also found family is great as a main part of the plot or just sprinkled in.

👀 what do you think about love triangles?

ohhh boy hate is a strong word but let's say that if I am on the fence bout a show and see that as one of the tags I am closing that tab and not looking back.

i was literally thinking about this yet again a few days ago like "do I actually hate that trope? I feel like I'm missing something, if it's done well maybe it could be good cause I don't like sad endings but they CAN be good so it should go for love triangles too, right?"

but my gosh I dislike them. I can only tolerate them when the main lead clearly has no interest and shows it and/or the pining one knows when to back down. bonus points if they become friends with the couple, thats super wholesome. it might all stem from the fact I don't like big conflict or that I hate seeing characters hurt from unrequited love or (ughhhhh) going out of their way to be annoying. like we could spend that screen time to develop the main relationship or tie some loose ends. no need to see two characters who like each other but don't act on it and then someone else swoops in to become the main lead, no wish to experience someone obsessing over their childhood friend who doesn't know how to establish boundaries, no desire for looking at two guys measuring dicks and being unnecessarily territorial (esp nasty when one of them is civil and the main guy is being a jerk) (this annoyed me in lbfad too and that's arguably one of the best done love triangles)

that being said, I'm sure it's a good trope, I have some beloved character trios who had to go through that arc. for example I did not enjoy it in Light on Me (I knowwww I know I'm the only one) but I didn't hate it in Hometown Cha Cha Cha (sml was a cutie)

🙄 overhyped

oof that's interesting.. rwrb? i suppose it's more fun for fans of the book but i enjoyed it, thought bout Henry for a week and moved on, idk. it was very fun but also made me eyeroll a few times and near the end I was hoping for smth unpredictable to happen

I am thinking of shows I see way too much of on the dash but I realise there are very good reasons for them to be well liked. and it's actually not that they are overhyped - other shows aren't paid the same attention so it looks like these are being paid too much. it's just that we don't hype others as much, that's all. I cant say that shows I don't like as much as others do are overhyped when I can recognise there are objectively good parts of them so I won't list those (although I've got quite a few apparently pft)

ask game here!

#thank you for the askkk ill get around to the other one soon #💗💓💝💞💖💞💖💕💗💞💝#petri replies #ask game #ppg

7 notes · View notes

faithhopeloveandtherapy · 2 years

Text

I waited for H to come home from d3 football training this evening and then I put this weeks GBBO episode on for us to watch and then I promptly fell asleep for the entire episode 🙄😴

Today Sibling and Toddler went off to nursery at 8.30am (H took them), and then the Baby had a home physio appt at 8.45am to adjust his standing frame (quickly being rendered obsolete because he has had a massive developmental leap and now voluntarily spends most of his time standing having pulled himself up on furniture). After physio we hustled down to our lovely developmental playgroup for the morning. It rained and I got very wet because I love to walk and do not love to take the car, and the rain was not in fact ‘easing off’ as I deluded myself it was. Got home just after the plumber had arrived to fit the new shower part, but thankfully since I was out, H had to deal with that. No guilt about that. I’d sorted everything around the plumber up to that point, H can share the load.

This afternoon, I should have had a 2pm meeting here at home with the Family Finder to talk about life story work with the children, and then a 3pm zoom meeting with SW and nursery regarding their education plans. But confusingly the SW turned up for the Family Finder meeting too and then said we could do the zoom meeting on her laptop in my lounge. Which meant I spent the whole zoom meeting sitting on the floor hanging over her shoulder trying to see the screen and shout in contributions while being climbed on by the baby. I had been intending to do the zoom meeting in the kitchen where I had my laptop all set up on the work surface and activities for the baby to do in the high chair next to me 🤷‍♀️

After the zoom meeting, the SW needed a few bits of updated info for her latest report, which I gave her. She’d forgotten her reading glasses so she couldn’t actually read the questions she was trying get me to answer. I am not ready for that stage of ageing. She was done by 4.20pm and then I had to dash to pick the big two up from nursery. I made quesadillas for tea while d3 entertained the small people with some screen time.

Tea, bath, bed, all asleep by 7.15pm. I didn’t go to my church group online this evening because I wanted an evening off, and now I’m annoyed because it looks like it was a really interesting one by all the comments people have shared in the WhatsApp group. Why couldn’t I have missed a boring one 😂 It’s 11.30pm now and I have been putting off writing the daily diaries all evening but since I successfully put them off all yesterday evening, I now have two days entries to write in each of them, I really should do them tonight. Off I go. Goodnight tumblr peeps.

8 notes · View notes

blogfullofemos · 2 years

Text

Lonely is a Man Without Love

(Thank you sssooo much guys for the many receptive love I've been given. Truly appreciate the time you guys took out of your day. Here's the next part. @later-gators12 enjoy my friend 😌.)

Warnings: We got some blood but other than that, nothing bad. A little action ain't hurt nobody.

Pairings: Steven Grant x fem!reader, original character x fem!character.

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Steven just loves to pull on your heart strings huh? How can you keep your cool... Also Steven fighting... Please help Marc.

Writer Notes: I know I squish the words together when Marisol talks, but being hispanic myself, you know exactly what I mean lmao.

The thin white drapes of your small motel casted a dreary hue within it’s British-inspired walls. London’s thunderous storm adding more to its depressive pull. You sit at one of the corner-ends to the twin-size bed as a small antique radio quietly plays news static. Next to it rested Athena standing with pride as her sword pierced the stone beneath her, a torn piece of paper covering her face. Steven’s big shaky handwriting of his phone number written sloppily against the lines. You stare as a small smile crept up, reminiscing the many reintroductions of Steven Grant as the days passed. The way his face gotten redder and redder as you both shared a passionate discourse of Greek Gods & Goddesses, the many big smiles he gave as you explained your side to its history. “I’m sorry madam, but the shop is now closing.” the female cashier informs you with a courteous smile. Piercing Steven with a highly annoyed side eye as she walked off, pissed about cleaning up the shop’s mess, especially Steven’s. Steven giving her a sympathetic crooked smile, he brings his attention back to you, “I’m sorry (Y/N), I’m going to go help Frances clean up shop. It was really amazing meeting you. Goodbye for now.” he says as he quickly follows behind the seething Frances.

Your heart couldn’t help but flip at his courteous moments, rather rare to see in such a man. But the further he went, the more your mind screamed “GET HIS NUMBER YOU CLOWN!!”.

“Wait!!” you yelled unexpectedly, causing them both to turn to you. Steven with bewilderment and Frances with “Now what’s wrong with her?” look. You didn’t have to yell, well you didn’t mean to honestly, your face burned up with embarrassment. “Um, can I get your number?” you ask lowly, your head instinctively going down to hide your vulnerability.

“What was that beautiful?” he asks walking back towards you, his ears not picking up the words at all. Your face smoldering more by his compliment, you hated this. You hated this so much. You force yourself to look up at him, exposing a beet red face to Steven making his blush look rather fake “I said can I have your number?” you repeat with clenched fist. God why did this hurt so much? Steven bites his bottom lip as he tries to contain a foolish smile, digging his hands in his pants pockets. He pulls out a crumpled piece of loose-leaf paper and quickly ripped the top corner of it. Thanking the heavens that he’s a tour guide to nothing but toddlers.

“Hey Frances, you got a pen?.. Marker?.. Anything to write with?” he asks as he realizes he’s missing the most important part of this ordeal.

M: Now how are you a teacher without a pen? We gotta do better Steven…

Steven ignores Marc’s sly comment as Frances intentionally slams a marker in his hand, rolling her eyes as she walks away. Steven places the small, ripped piece of paper on the window and quickly writes numbers with dashes on its crumpled surface. Once he finishes, he hands it to you, a smile never leaving him. “Don’t lose it now.” he says shyly.

You bite your bottom lip as your mouth instinctually pulls upward. He probably thinks you lost it by now, but today you’ll find your way back to him. Suddenly your phone lights up as it vibrates harshly next to Athena, the screen showing: Marisol. You get off the bed and take your phone of the dresser’s wooden surface, swiping to pick up the call from your best friend. “Hello, you’ve reached the voicemail box of 100% that bit-.” you say in monotone, trying to steady your breathing from laughing.

“Shut the fuck up bitch.” Marisol’s spanish accent laugh out making you laugh “You almost got me.” she finishes. You sit back down and twirl your fingers around the thin blanket, your eyes wandering back to Steven’s number. “So when were you going to tell me?” Marisol asks with fake hurt.

“Mari, you know this is part of my job description.” you sigh, “You think I want to keep leaving you behind.” you say as you plop your back down on the uncomfortably firm bed, affirming the most hated part of your job. Resting the back of your hand on your forehead, you stare at the speckled ceiling weighing the pros and cons of being with Steven. “I know, BUT PARIS!!” she elates.

“It’s not Paris, speci-.” you try to retort but Marisol’s excitement cuts you off.

“You better send me pictures or something more, you know, I wouldn’t mind a little piece of Paris in my mundane life.” she theatrically emphasizes mundane, making you chuckle at her guilt trapping words.

“I’ll see what I can do. But for the time being, I must prepare. Luckily I’ve gotten a break since I’ve landed, but I know I’m going to be assigned for something soon. Anywayyy how’s everything back home?”.

“Girl…” you can feel Marisol’s classic eye roll from your small talk.

“What?” you laugh already knowing the answer.

“You know you’re the only eventful person I have in my life. When I’m bored, I run to you, so how do you think everything is going?” she says sarcastically.

“Pretty relaxing.”

“BITCH ITS BEEN DEAD!! Jariel has been cooped up in our home office because of work, and between you&me I haven’t gotten any for a minute. OH!! Your mama is doing well and toldmetotellyou to call her when you can. Also Gobbles is giving me a headache.” she growls as you hear Gobbles the pug do his screech, never learning how to bark like a normal dog. You hear his nails scatter about through the receiver. You giggle as you roll around the bed and kick your feet up, Steven’s bashful face floating around your mind. If your cellphone had a cord, you’ll definitely be twirling it around your fingers right about now. You cuss at yourself mentally as you see the start of a love dopamine rush. Snapping yourself out of its addictive pull. “Marisol… It happened again.” you hint, losing the fight with yourself.

“What.” she quietly exclaims, her excitement muted.

“Sooo there’s this guyyy.” you drawl, dropping your hopeless romantic face into the bed.

“OMG, TELL ME EVERYTHING AMIGA!!” she screeches like when you guys saw your favorite boy band appear on stage. You gave her the rundown of Steven, exaggerating some details and getting giddy with others. You finally finish with rushed breathing as you laid on your back again, exhausted from rolling around the bed as you gush. Yeah, Steven’s made an impression that was hard to scratch away. “(Y/N) put that number on your phone and stop being a baby. You know I don’t get you someti-.” Marisol says but your focus gets ripped away by a loud beeping sound inside the top dresser drawer.

“Mari, I’ll call you back.” you end the conversation, as your body’s temperature drops in seconds. Hanging up, you get off the bed and toss your phone on it. You open the empty drawer and retrieve the beeping burner phone, flipping it open “Hello.” You say cautiously.

“They still have you on their radar, keep moving. We’ve created you a new identity card and we’ll drone it to your location. It might take months before they’ll cool off, be careful with your side endeavors. God bless, be safe Niner.” The call drops, vanishing into its technological ether. Your heart races as you cuss silently, slight paranoia creeping into your mindscape as your eyes frantically assess your surroundings. You toss the burner phone on the dresser’s hard surface as you take a deep breath in, gripping the side of it with white knuckles. You look at Athena once more as cold sweat quickly builds up within you.

Meanwhile…

Steven slams the human-like cougar into London’s-soaked asphalt alley, simultaneously the cougar demon grabs his tie causing Steven to fall by the force of his. Landing on top of the cougar-man.

M: And this is why we don’t wear ties in a gunfight Steven.

Steven rolls around with the cougar demon, throwing punches, some connecting, most hitting back the pelting raindrops. As Steven ends up on top of the demon again, he wails at the cougar’s face, but for some reason it doesn’t seem to affect the demon as it did past ones. “Marc this is-.” but Steven is interrupted by the demon gripping his head. Headbutting Steven with the force of a jet. “GuS, is ThAt YoU?” he says dazed, as the demon hits him with another one; knocking Steven back on the ground. The demon stalks its body back up as it purrs seeing Steven’s unconscious masked face seeping slowly with blood coming out his nose. Suddenly white fabric snakes around the demon from behind, before the demon has time to react the tough fabric tightens. In seconds the demon collapses as its head pops off from its body, turning into rain-soaked soot. Khonshu’s God-like silhouette looking down at the irradicated demon’s dust, thunder lighting up the cloudy day above. Khonshu kneels and swipes his gloved hand in the soot, investigating it as he circles it around his fingers. “He’s back.” he summarizes.

Khonshu stands back up and walks toward the still unconscious Steven, watching as Steven’s costume dissipates as his feet stops by his shoulders. Steven grunts as Khonshu taps the end of his moon staff on his cheek. “Steven.” Khonshu says displeased continuing his incessant staff taps.

“No Gus… It’s not for you to eat.” Steven mumbles with a snore, still lost in his sleep as he slaps the staff.

“STEVEN!!” Khonshu booms causing Steven to sit up quickly as he wakes up shouting Marc’s name. Steven frantically searches around him, calming as he sees Khonshu’s bird-skull face looking down at him. “Is it gone?” Steven smiles with a bloody mouth, one of his front teeth chipped ever so slightly. A slanted gash on his nose, as his left eye swells and darkens ever so slightly. Khonshu walks away from him and disappear, but not until he smacked Steven on the back of his head. “OWA!!” Steven exclaims as he tries to rub the pain away.

“Let Marc handle the hands next time.” Khonshu’s voice echoes throughout the thunderous rain.

M: I try to tell him Khonshu, but nooo Steven’s name is with a V.

“Piss off.” Steven retorts as he slumps his body, trying to regain strength in his sore muscles. He lets the rain pelt his bruised body, as he tries to get a grasp of the demon he fought minutes ago. Usually the demon’s weren’t hard to kill, even though Steven panic-quit mid fight most of them. Marc always having to take the brunt of it. But once in a blue, they would be blindsided by how they killed their opponents. But this demon, this demon wasn’t easy to even shake. A sound of wind chimes breaks his thinking, as his phone vibrates in his shirt pocket.

He hisses in pain as his head aches from the sound, pulling the phone out and swiping the screen. An unknown number texting him.

You: Hey Steven it’s me (Y/N). I’m free today if you want to continue our fast chat.

You: Last* 😅

Steven forgets everything that happened prior as a huge smile dance across his beaten face. His fingers quickly tapping against the wet screen, like his heart.

Steven: I would love to (Y/N). Give me 2 hours tops, and I’ll be ready.

M: Steven let me front.

Steven finally gets off the ground with a grunt as he feels his muscles stretch out the pain. “No Marc, she doesn’t even know us yet. Plus this is-.” he’s cut off by another notification sound.

You: Okay… Where do you want to go since I’m new to these parts of town. 🤠

Steven chuckles at your corny text, limping as he walks blindly to his flat.

Steven: Wow you’re putting my tour guiding skills to good use already. But how about a café. I know one that serves great tea with the best bakery goods any man would die for.

Steven: Okay I might’ve over done that last one, but like

Steven: I would die for it

Steven: Not really though

Steven: Okay that might’ve been a lie… 😅

M: You’re doing too much with the texting Steven. 5 messages in 25 seconds… Not a good look.

“I’m sorry Marc, that I’m excited about this. I haven’t had a proper date since….” he drawls as his face falls a little remembering Layla, “You know.” he finishes. He looks around London’s streets as he checks the address signs, seeing that his flat is not too far from here.

His phone chimes again and he physically gasps in disgust at your text.

You: So Starbucks it is.

Steven: 😐🤢🤮😥 How could you….

You: What? I could go for a cold brew right about now.

Steven: 🤧 Please no more…

You: And those cheese danishes…. Warmed up…. A gift from the Heavens.. 🙏

Steven lets out an ashamed wail, making passerby’s even more uncomfortable near him. “Marc she’s been corrupted.” he exaggerates his shame to a random stranger.

“My names not Marc.” the Irish man says defensively, ramming his shoulder into Steven’s as he walks off. Causing Steven to mumble “Sorry mate.”, as the force of the shoulder bump made him spin around and walk backwards.

M: Steven let’s get to the flat before you start any more unnecessary issues. We have a date at 5 sharp and looking at you…. We need to hurry.

#steven grant x y/n #steven grant #moon knight #marvel #moon knight fandom #moon knight fanfic #a little bit of action #marc spector #a hint of khonshu #original character #phone conversation #I love me some steven #this made me smile while writing #also Egyptian demons are type wild

10 notes · View notes

kwon-eunbi · 1 year

Note

I do not miss the constant deadlines of academia at all. Like, I loved going to class and learning and filling my head with interesting things, but the stress of deadlines and exams were awful. Being a librarian would be so amazing, would you want to work in a small library or a big one? Or like a community library or an academic one?

It was actually for Chinese linguistics, it was about tracing modern languages back to Middle Chinese and untangling how they evolved. I speak Mandarin, Russian, and English, and I’m supposed to speak French, but I don’t, don’t tell anyone. I lived in Paris and my dad’s partner is French Canadian, but I can only kind of read it. I love learning languages, though, I started Korean for an ex (when we were together ofc) and even though that’s over I keep going back to it because I enjoy the puzzle of sentence construction.

It's a good cover! Sounds basically the opposite of Wooyoung’s, and yet I think both of them capture the emotions of the song and lyrics in different ways.

I have such a soft spot for “Say My Name”, it was when I started listening to them, and I was like look at these kiddos going WILD. “Bad bitch, watch her do coke” indeed! But I do love when Hongjoong dresses fashionably but in an artsy way, if that makes sense, where he uses looks that aren’t exactly pretty as part of his performance, like the mullet in 2019. But honestly he’s just a crazy good performer, he could wear a paper bag and I’d be applauding wildly like YES king you are SO right. And Wooyoung with his little brother vibes off the chart through the whole era (and every other era tbh).

I like their melodic songs a lot, when I get frustrated with a piece on violin, I’ll play a little kpop song as a reset for fun, and “Precious”, “Horizon” and “Inception” are all go-to songs for that. But when I listen to their more melodic songs, I’m digging through there for the harmonies cause I just find those so much more interesting, when San finally gave in and started modulating in their performances of “Turbulence” on It’s Live? Ohhh those got me. He said no tritones on my watch! I might prefer their less pretty music tho? Like “Fireworks” or “Deja Vu” or “The Real”. I don’t know, but there’s not really a wrong answer.

For “Guerilla”, I joked that I wanted a nardcore comeback, my friends told me to be realistic, I said well now I’m gonna speak it into existence, and when Jason Sears possessed Mingi for those thirty seconds I went back to them like What Did You Say To Me. I think I would have liked it more with less pitch correction but I’m very annoying about punk music so ignore me.

I’ll check out Lucifer then! I need a new show for my cardio workouts, and if there’s five seasons then it’ll last a while. I remember what I saw of it was that it was a fun show, and I love a good monster-of-the-week show, so it’ll be great for those early mornings.

Thanks for letting me ramble haha I love talking about music. I hope you’re resting well and getting lots of sleep.

--🎅

hiiiii, sorry for not responding sooner, i didn't have time to sit down and respond properly bc yk uni and my friend came to stay with me so it's just been hectic lmaoo (i literally open tumblr, reblog the first gifset on my dash i see and close it), but how are you doing?? i hope well!! <33

ahhh i so get you about the deadlines. i enjoy going to lectures the first few weeks of the semester too but then i just... get bored of it and i just wanna skip them all but most of them check attendance so i can't skip too much :(( honestly i would just love to work in a library, idec which one just one yk, but in this economy and yk libraries not being such popular places anymore, i would be lucky to land a job anywhere....

omgggg that sounds sooo interesting!! i really love chinese but i don't think i would ever attempt to learn it cause honestly my brain isn't equipped for that so i truly admire you for not only knowing it but also studying its linguistics wow!! and ohh damn you speak russian too, well yk we could understand each other on basic levels cause my mother tongue is croatian. and yess, korean is so fun to study, i really wish i had more time to dedicate to it.

ohhh so you're basically a "veteran" atiny, love that! omg yess hongjoong and his fashion sense and his painted pinkie ahhhh it's amazing trulyyyy, and i agree he's an amazing perfomer, honestly all of ateez are, they're just crazy good it's insane!!

OMG YOU PLAY THE VIOLIN???!? wooow!! i love violin so much i always wanted to learn to play it wow you're truly so talented wowww!! and honestly i agree with you on it all! they truly have a discography to fit your every mood like no joke! btwww did you see the teasers for the new cb??? i caaant wait tho i am a bit disappointed that we're getting only two new songs but yk they've been working too hard this year i wasn't expecting a cb yet anyway but i'm definitely going to enjoy it fully!!

broo i love punk/rock/alternative in general so i'm really loving all of these new songs, like since rocky i was just AHHHH YESSS this is what i needed!! yk even tho i do love their more melodic songs, i hope they go in this punk direction a little longer cause it suits them so well and i definitely love the songs

yess lucifer is amazing and yk some seasons have more eps so it would definitely last you a while hahah

and feel free to ramble whenever you want! soon in the dms too hehe and again sorry for not responding sooner! i hope you're doing well too and getting rest <333

#annonymous #answered

0 notes

shinxeysartgallery · 1 year

Text

SONIC FRONTIERS REVIEW (SPOILERS)

Okay, so as promised, a full in-depth review on my thoughts about Sonic Frontiers! This review WILL have spoilers in it, so if you don't want to get spoiled, I recommend not clicking the "read more" tag. With that being said, the review is under the cut!

Where should I even begin with this masterpiece of a game? I guess I shall start with the gameplay.

The gameplay itself is really nice and I love how fluid it is. I played it on Switch and didn't really experience any sort of lag (unless the pop-ins count, but even then that wasn't really all that bad or noticeable when you're actually playing vs just watching) or hang ups, which is really good, considering the Switch version seems to be the weakest port (from what I've been told; I don't know a lot about the technical stuff). Sonic's new moveset is really fun to play with and none of the commands to use them are uncomfortable; they flow pretty naturally. It's not like some movesets in other games where you'd have to dislocate your thumb to do a button combination or remember a 30-button long string of commands. I'd love to see his moveset in a future Smash installment (or if Sega makes its own "Smash" series) get retooled to use some of these new moves. The challenges scattered about the islands to unlock the maps were cool. Most were rather easy, but there were several that were pretty challenging, too. It was cool that it wasn't too difficult, but they weren't all super easy either. That made a nice balance. As for the challenges related to the story parts? They were an awesome addition. Instead of the usual "blow out the flame" or "run over to this button in 30 seconds" type of challenges we got to unlock the map, you get to do things like play pinball or a bullet hell minigame. It was really cool that they were included in the game and made it more fun! The only gameplay element that I didn't like was the cyberspace stages. I mainly wish they were longer than what they are, but some of them also control really badly. One in particular that comes to mind is stage 3-5. Most of the stage is fine, but if you touch one of the drift panels, it becomes near impossible to control where you're going. (I did appreciate that Sonic got a skateboard in one of the stages, though!) Despite the poor controls of the cyberspace stages, the game is still really good about giving you enough vault keys for you to progress in the story. It makes it hard to get some of those S Ranks, but you can usually get the other three missions done fairly easily on most of the stages. Whatever you can't get from the stages, you can find pretty easily. There are some free vault keys hidden in those blue treasure signs (sometimes they give memory tokens, portal gears, or turn into springs/dash panels, though, so it's not always keys) and rarely an enemy might drop one (I have only had that happen twice in my playthrough, though). If you still can't get enough, you can always go and trade in some tokens in the fishing minigame (I don't know if there's a limit) and get whatever you're missing from Big. So even if you're not a skilled or seasoned Sonic player, the game still gives you a way to progress forward.

Most of the other issues I had with gameplay can be attributed to either Joycon drift (usually it screwing with my camera angle while I'm in the middle of parkour and causing me to screw up because I can't see what I'm doing or homing attack stuff) or the magic words SKILL ISSUE (aka I'm just really bad at this part lmao). Can't really say either of those are the fault of the game.

Then we have the Guardians and Titans. Most of the Guardian fights were really fun and had dope soundtracks to go with them. Soundtrack-wise, I think the Fortress was my favorite, and fighting-wise, the Shark. There were a few that were a bit on the annoying side (looking at you, Squid and Caterpillar!), but they were all pretty easy to beat once you knew what you were doing with them. The Titans though? Ohhh man were they awesome. Design-wise, the Wyvern was 100% my favorite, but it's also the one I liked fighting the least of the four. My favorite one to fight was the Knight. It is a bit disappointing that you can't go back and re-fight any of the Titans, though. Game length-wise was pretty decent. Four large islands with much to do on them (Rhea Island is a bit of a different story because all you do there is disable towers), and the story part was also a pretty decent length. There's a lot to do if you're going for the magic 100%.

Next I think I'll do the characters.

I honestly gotta say that this is some of the absolute best characterization for everyone in recent years. This singlehandedly fixed all the problems that previous titles had with Tails and Knuckles in particular. I think it's going to be a rather interesting change that the two of them and Amy are seemingly going their separate ways for a while to build up more character in the future and I'm excited to see where it goes from here! Sage was also a really great addition to the cast and I love the dad-daughter dynamic she has with Eggman. Really made that final scene hit a lot harder when it seemed like she died (although that post-credits scene seems to imply she survived, which is epic 'cause that means she might come back in a future game!). The voice acting for everyone was phenomenal, unironically some of the best the series as a whole has had. Everyone completely nailed their parts. I was especially impressed with the new voice direction that Sonic in particular went towards. Definitely gotta be some of Roger's best work with the character.

And now we have le story.

The entire story was really interesting! I like how we're back on getting actual lore instead of just "haha Eggman did the big bad again" for a story. It's very reminiscent of the older games from the early and mid-2000s and their more dark themes for story. I like how this explored more of where exactly the Chaos Emeralds came from, since the only piece of media off the top of my head that delved into it at all was the Archie comics (ironically, they came from space in that, too). It was quite tragic what happened to the ancient folks, but it gave some new context and insight on some of the questions people have had about the series for a long time. Although speaking of their tragic past, I did find the final boss to be quite underwhelming. The fight against the Supreme Titan was pretty cool, but you go from that to outer space where you press three buttons to blow up a moon. I was not impressed with that at all and was hoping there would be more to it than that. Dude literally wiped out the Koco and destroyed the islands, and that's really all it took to kill it? Not gonna lie, that was pretty lame. Every other final boss in the series had a lot more going for it than that. In addition to the main story, there are some optional dialogue lines that give more interesting context on the game, too. There are the required points to talk to Amy/Knuckles/Tails/Sage, but there are also several optional areas that the story won't guide you to do if you're only doing that much. There are also the Eggman voice memos that you can only get from playing Big's fishing minigame that give more interesting context as well. These optional dialogue pieces really fleshed out the world and gave more characterization to everyone moreso than with exclusively the required portions. Although while I'm on the subject of optional things, that leads me to the final issue I have with the game. So, as you know, the only "required" parts of the game are to collect the Chaos Emeralds, fight the Titans, and talk to Amy/Knuckles/Tails/Sage at the required points in the story to continue it. You don't have to unlock all the cyberspace portals, kill all the Guardians, or even fully fill out the maps of each island in order to progress in the story. When I had first begun playing, I was under the impression that if I did not complete all the optional stuff, I could travel freely between the islands (provided I beat each respective Titan) or go back after finishing the game and collect what I missed. Well, that's not the case. I really wanted to know what was going to happen next while I was still on Kronos Island, and didn't finish unlocking the map past 78% because of this idea I had and not knowing that after beating the Titan, it would automatically take me right to Ares Island without an option to go later (not even an "are you ready to go?"). So I never finished the Kronos Island map because of that, and there's really no indication that this is the case (although the same can be said about there being none for my idea either). I had thought this because that's how it had been in previous titles - you could travel to previously beaten stages freely or revisit after beating the final boss; I thought it would be the same here. It is not. It makes it more of a pain in the ass if you want to go for 100%, but it's still doable. I would've loved to have gone back and refought the Titans, but can't do that, either, unfortunately.

I think the only thing I haven't mentioned is the OST, and that's the usual brand of epicness that we all expect from this series. I think I've mentioned everything else (I'll edit later if I remember something I forgot lol), so yeah. The game still has its flaws, but it's still the best one from recent years, imo. As an overall rating, I bestow upon it the big 8/10. I definitely recommend playing!

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic frontiers #sonic frontiers spoilers #long text post #opinion piece

0 notes

underspeedsite · 2 years

Text

Simcity pc review

Try to take the cheap route? You’ll be uber congested. Spend too much on roads that can be upgraded those that can handle a massive amount of traffic? You’ll be skint in no time. See, since there are different road options, you have to watch your beginning dollar amount carefully. Hindered by a this bottleneck solo opening, and restrained by a rather annoying land limitation, I dropped my power plant and sewer pipe in the corner I could reach cheapest. No, you only get this much land and must connect to this arbitrarily placed large road before you can begin. Nevermind that some of it may be mountainous or comprised of water. That is the entirely of space you get to build your city on. When you begin the game, you’ll see a cut along the dashes style white outline (or a really poor chalk outline if you want to be morbid). I found the need to connect to the big freeway a tad annoying, mainly due to the limited size of cities. The very first city I built was known as Fun Town. Let me tell you the tale, or tales to be honest. Having to exit out to pick a new server is rather annoying. (I have one thing I have to get off my chest immediately: allow me to change servers after I log into one. You won’t miss anything if you decide to listen to music though. Ambient noise and sirens from appropriate services help the atmosphere. The music is ok nothing to write home about.

I hate Simlish or what ever the name of their dumb language is and I am glad I can mute things. SimCity can be pretty, but rendering all these items takes away from the best part of SimCity – running a city! In addition to those color coded jewels, levels of happiness, utilities coverage, density and a myriad of other charts need colors only modern computers can provide! Actually, more numbers shown in a better way would do wonders instead of graphs, charts and colors. Color is the name of the game as zoning depends on the classic green for residential, blue for commercial and yellow for industrial. The cars, trucks, Sims, trains, weather, tornadoes and meteors come alive with fury and lively colors.

Maxis spent quite a bit of time making and modeling Sims to live in your city. Basically, you write your own story – mine usually involved the aforementioned things. Bribes, coke-filled orgies, gambling debts and dead hookers are not involved… or so they say. To this end, you control zoning, road building, industrial concerns and most every other aspect of general city establishment one can think of off the top of their heads. You are the mayor of a town and are tasked with making the town grow. Can the rebooted franchise from the EA controlled Maxis live up to the franchise’s legacy, or is this another The Sims brand extension? Soon â€œSimâ€ branded games were being churned out, but SimCity captured my heart. I fell in love with that game nearly twenty-five years ago (1989). This club was dedicated to the Amiga (Only the Amiga Makes it Possible) and one of the big scoops they came across was a soon to be released game named: SimCity. One of my brothers once belonged to a computer club in the 1980s. (Note: This review is about the launch version of SimCity subsequent patches are not addressed) Genre: City Building/Management Simulation

#Simcity pc review

1 note · View note

sugar-petals · 3 years

Text

🌹 Sub!SuperM 18+ HC: Riding Their Faces

↳ NOTE. These guys... I swear. Bringing some heat to the dash right here. Enjoy the SuperMadness 👀

word count. 3.7k | bullet points | ot7

WARNINGS. ⚠️ all explicit, cum play, latex, hair & sweat kink, bondage, spit, brat taming, toys, breath play, ass fixation going strong, dominant reader, femdom, degradation, hardcore, veins kink, graphic language, strap-ons, crying kink, clothed sex, some crack

⌜ 💋 byun baekhyun ⌟

▸ strength: energy

not for the faint of heart. baekhyun thoroughly enjoys you giving it to him roughly; it’s the leader being led, how sexy is that

i spy with my femdom eye, baekhyun likes the bossy dommes who bring him to his knees — quite literally.

case in point: hates seeing you hold back. tells you to just bounce on him how you want it. no fumbling around, it’s gotta be hot and proper.

whatever you’re insecure about he hasn’t even noticed. the more confidently you’re taking your designated seat, the better. this shit’s gotta make him all loud and squeaky, baekhyun can’t get enough of your wild and demanding side. “don’t you dare move your hands!” — he’s already hooked.

yep, he’s part of the feral squad. and louder than the bass in jopping for that matter

small as hell face but the jaw is sharp, you can literally feel it, he fits between your legs so well

endless breath. put your pussy all over that nose, grind on it, cum all over him. society will thank you for suffocating a millionaire

like seriously the breath play is off the charts. if he’s into asphyxiation you’d not be surprised

meanwile baek’s naughty hips keep on bucking, like hello there, giving you a cheeky 69 invitation

such a cocky little shit, whiny byun all the way from those ruined orgasms he’ll be getting cuz you might just touch him with two fingers at best, you know how to keep him on his toes

swallows everything he’s like whatever, almost chokes because he’s so messy and greedy to taste you. damn baekhyun

does a “mmhhhnnn...!” sound all the time, this guy has pussy all over his face and is still more vocal than you no matter what you do

eats ass, all day if he can, knows the most shocking techniques, wants to get crushed by booty he’ll end up admitting it. no matter how big or small yours is. because remember, that face is small, everything is big to him

the type to cum on his stomach way before you do. groans a lot, then goes on even more intensely, how the hell did he just leak out five ounces of semen and still manage a whole tongue workout

slobbery and all over the place, those are tongue movements you can’t even think of in your wildest dreams

baekhyun is never content just making you cum once or just really lowkey, much less hearing you being silent. he’s a moodmaker, he naturally wants to hear you, and see you twitch like the world ends for goodness sake

brattiest tongue ever, always pulls out the taunting puppy licks, tries to grope you all the time, he’ll get a rough spanking later believe me

also gets his payback from you being crazy wet, as beautiful and cute his face might be it’s gonna end up damn ruined

not gonna lie his voice acrobatics will turn you into a waterfall that’s coming down on him

you can punish him for teasing by going raw with your hips, mochi is in wonderland, seeing stars. put his wrists in a spreader bar and go off is what i’m saying, YOLO

since baekhyun annoys the members by being so hyper in the evening, they appreciate you knocking him out for sleep. and indeed baekhyun dozes like a baby, probably using your ass as a pillow or something

you’ve drained the shit out of him and um watered the flower that is his face, so

another cupcake down, mission success, baekhyun certainly had his fill not to mention lucky you having to deal with his wildly talented mouth ahem, moral of the story annihilate him with your ass

⌜ 💋 lee taemin ⌟

▸ strength: steaminess

you will come (heh) to discover that none of his lyrics were a lie

yeah he’s busy hot boy shit for his gal

taemin has an all-soft and plush tongue that’s super pinkish. it literally feels so good, how to ever get enough of it holy shit

it also happens to be very long so buckle up, he wants to be deep inside of you, serve and please you

probably the most slow and agile movement in the group, tantalizing is the right word for sure

prefers kissing and sucking over just licking because he’s sappy, good on him and good on you those lips are heaven and need to be used by all means

once you go on the pill, taemin will eat his own creampies straight out of you, maybe even two at once, it’s taemin c’mon he’s above-average horny lord knows how much sperm he’s hoarding

loves drowning it seems

raunchy stuff aside, he always dresses up nicely or wears the fluffy sweaters you like the most on him. what an exclusive ride, the scent of the clothing turns you on even more he’s pulling all the registers taemin is so docile and giggly

most sensual style in the group, will edge and give you goosebumps first before the main course even remotely goes down, taemin thinks in several stages hot damn he calculated this

his face heats up so much it’s crazy, then again kkoongie capitalizes on all the warmth from the radiator so you might as well be taemin’s personal heating alright. it’s fun seeing him sweat like mad, see his neck veins bulge... ugh

is gonna be a provocateur and try to nibble on your folds, man he just wants to get slapped around you can see right through this brat’s rowdy plan

might even want his ass played with while you ride his face so prepare for some intense contortions, fingering, butt plugs, prostate massage, the whole array, gladly taemin is flexible

always pulls it off hands-free because he’s a pro and well yeah he’s always tied up how um totally surprising

and any challenge he will meet that i guarantee you

he has immediately apparent shinee concert stamina, longevity like his career, taemin can lend his face to your purposes for the whole night he doesn’t care if he needs to chuck it in the freezer afterwards

bonus: if taemin doesn’t at some point wear one of his glittery masks for sexy time, somebody is probably impersonating him and it’s not the real lee taemin i’m afraid

so many orgasms you’ll stop counting, one blends into the other, even if you’re not moving much, how does he do it

that being said gee can we just appreciate how beautiful his face is, everything about him, it’s gonna be so sexy and soft to kiss him to sleep oh my god

⌜ 💋 kim jongin ⌟

▸ strength: escalating

just how industrious is he? dammit kai is the rent due or something, this shit is not a comeback stage cool down

jongin is needy as fuck, he’s desperate to taste you especially in the morning when his lips are all plump

since then he’s skipped his skin care routine you do the bulk of the moisturizing you see

jokes aside get ready for whimpery kai thrusting his face right into you because he can, should you need something to hold onto, his thighs are literally right there

constant high-pitched moans, some during quick pauses, others stifled, kai are you okay he’s really going all out

so thirsty

if you don’t put a harness on him for this you’re missing out, also you need something to hold this wild slutty motherfucker in place

rock-hard throughout, harder than a goddamn superm choreography

also: sturdy chin that can take a lot, it’s made to be sat on

does a lot of the work, very active, main dancer vibes you know, you can be lazy and just enjoy

most continuous style in the group, gradually getting more and more passionate and nervous — the second you thought it gets boring he goes off, have fun losing your mind and seeing him basically K.O. himself

if he wants to make you cum, rapid tongue jabs deep into your clit, and his hard breath against it, no fair play in here

absolutely has a thing for your shaking thighs, like what the hell he’s blowing a huge load the more you tremble, and he’s goddamn crying from pleasure every time woah

those big ole lips are an absolute treat, yeah i’ll say it again his face is meant for this

wants to be called all kinds of names wow jongin, it just spurs him more

kai. is. so. good.

you can most definitely film your own POV cam, jongin can put on one hell of a show. just this time it’s not his eyes flirting with the camera, it’s his tongue getting a nice rough treatment oh yum

don’t get me wrong he can deliver a romantic version of this, but kai just likes you being tough on his face he can’t deny it

uses his hands so you can ride him even harder, all his teddy bears will be falling off the bed like dominoes

might one day ascend to heaven while giving head, wouldn’t regret it

can do it until complete exhaustion you guys just pass out

being such an oral workaholic do i sense a masochist streak in him there?

fucking typical capricorn

⌜ 💋 wong yukhei ⌟

▸ strength: appetite

first off yukhei is hilarious

it’s called eating out and that’s exactly what he does duh, he’s not nicknamed foodcas for no reason — the restaurant is open my dear, and he just served himself five courses (you)

gets super sweaty, forehead and down the neck, a 6′0 glazed bun can you imagine

giggles a lot, makes the atmosphere relaxed, loves banter before and after, an allround sweet experience

though beware, this guy is hungry. most prone to open his mouth super wide he wants to eat all of you at once

don’t tell kun how nasty he is, much less leader baekhyun, promise me that

and especially nosy kai should not hear about what sexy shit yukhei is doing in his freetime unless you want to trigger a war

that being said the wayv dorm is still the safest place to sit on his face, so. it’s a lawless land there, nobody gives a fuck anymore at this point. yangyang would not even blink if ten murdered someone in cold blood on the balcony, that’s how the atmosphere there can be best described

lucas being a far more harmless himbo still ironically fits into the environment being so sexually insatiable, just how often are you going to fuck? it’s only natural to lose the overview

he loudly pouts and complains when it ends, wants to go on and on, you need a lotta stamina to get with this guy this is not a warning it’s a fact — yukhei really wants to tire himself out and give everything

if you lower your thighs just a little you can feel his dangly earrings. kinda sexy but also a safety concern i know i know, he’s not gonna wear them next time

noisy as heck, wants to do well, always goes the extra mile to be sure you are all happy and satisfied with today’s dining

his tongue is... big...

we’re not gonna talk about that giant bulge either, such a huge tent in those pants it’s a whole camping ground. anyway

what we’ll talk about. his super soft blonde hair, we’re talking salon quality soft, that’s amazing to feel against your legs, it’s great to pull as well, or to twirl really playfully

though there’s not much playful going down when the initial inhibition drops

he’s not made of glass you can really get those hips going

sliding down his nose when you’re all wet... damn good stuff.

lucas is the kinda guy that has you grunting and gritting he loves your reactions, and how aggressive you can get. usually he’s the reaction king but like this? he can get used to it.

totally into having that kinda frog perspective it’s a whole new thing, he’s such a giant now he’s below you, the sight is just superb to him

less likely to have toys involved, but rather a bunch of rope for his chest, his arms, his long ass legs. yukhei is a bondage insider tip y’all

stable as a block of metal. if you go a little too wild on baekhyun he’s probably gonna break his mochi neck but lucas is a different calibre, this mf is made of giant muscles galore, i can only say one thing: finish him

⌜ 💋 mark lee ⌟

▸ strength: speed

talks a lot, even occasionally curses — instantly apologizing, but you curse right back, so this becomes the cussing olympics at some point, taeyong would bury his face in the ground all his parenting efforts have gone to waste

mark basically chokes himself

he can’t control his spit by all means jesus... in his own words: must be the drip then

next to taemin and baekhyun here we have the third drowning victim, mark is in serious need of multiple tissues or towels afterwards but that’s exactly what he likes

mark’s slutty side is not to be underestimated i’m warning you

that’s a healthy young man right here

loves to do quickies to get you off during daytime, if you’re horny just tell him and he’ll find a quiet spot, might do it on his knees rather than you riding him sometimes for practical reasons

all options open, mark is flexible af. if someone can promote with nct dream and superm at the same time that’s the result

so yeah you’ll experiment with positions and even outfits, what’s the most comfortable to wear?

few people even remotely think about this. mark himself stays in his signature sweater but the glasses come off, you know very well he’s a nerd without them he has nothing to prove lmao!

the clothes will be cozy but don’t let that fool you yet alright

this guy has watched too much porn to just keep it light and cute

don’t get me wrong you can baby him ad nauseam for the more gentle femdom moods

but at the end of the day mark loves some intense shit, he likes feisty girls who aren’t coy and subby, the more perverted you are the better, in fact he enjoys being shocked with brazen attitude and getting orders on what to do.

loves it when you to take it all out on him, rough is good. mark lee’s face is the rodeo range of super m alright, just don’t break his glorious jaw or anything, he still needs it okay

but yeah mark’s face is tempting to ride hard not gonna lie

his tongue can go so fast it’s at the speed of sound, no, the speed of fucking light. mark goes crazy on your clit, wait a few seconds, boom five orgasms rain down on you.

it’s like an anime swordsman just lifting the sword hilt, walking off calmly, and one minute later things are in shambles like how? mark’s sword tech is just epic like that

he’s a leo what did we expect, show-off

in the meantime, RIP to mark lee’s pants. they’ll be soaked with cum, gonna be a bitch to hide your clothes from taeyong who’s always eager to wash everything by himself

that aside, mark really enjoys the position, he doesn’t need much else to be honest, he goes “oh my god oh shit” enough for you to know

thank god he’s a rapper, otherwise his dang technique would be dangerous, he doesn’t breathe for half a minute or so

enjoys you really doing shallow thrusts, super fast and sloppy, loves how much you enjoy it

needless to say: breaks a guinness world record for most licks per second, it’s that mark lee flow

long story short his face is your favorite spot he can prepare for a daily session

all that practice on water melons paid off good job markly

⌜ 💋 ten lee ⌟

▸ strength: allround skill

you know a pro by how he’s offering you a tall glass of water beforehand

and by the way he’s chugging one himself

champion, a keeper

you’re guaranteed to love it, ten is amazing

takes his time, gets to know your every inch, figures out your soft spots in a matter of minutes to seconds

everything for his sexy mama, service sub right here

take him on a leash, grind on his lips, make him kiss your clit, he’ll respond by circling his tongue around obediently

chittaphon might be a little fidgety at the beginning, but the atmosphere is not as tense anymore after doing it two or three times.

ten is actually quite good cracking lighthearted jokes and showing his more extroverted side, he always gets like that with a partner.

you have an easy time with build-up conversations and communicating in general, same with aftercare pillow talk

that being said the degree of professionalism this guy is heading for needs a lot of talk in the first place.

ten likes doing advanced things that aren’t just intuitively understood, you need to exchange yourself a lot

through trial and error you figure out how to incorporate sex toys into the little routine you have going on

the pleasure will be so intense you’ll never want anything else fuck

ten is also down for a lot of moving around, some athletic shit

you’ll go from bouncing on his dick to smothering his face back and forth pretty much, let’s see how fast you’re gonna bust a huge nut like that my bet is five minutes

those like “oh... ah—” moans are just angelic

since he focuses so much on your erogenous zones and always keeps his hands involved, ten is always guaranteed to have you breaking a major sweat

ten does not like to eat any fruits, they say. well that’s true, because he’s too busy eating you that is. boy can basically retire from citizenhood, he’s that busy between your legs.

enough fruit juice for an entire week impending, don’t worry about his nutrients, this is also a form of diet.

uses his chin, his cheeks, the nose especially, the damn nose it’s perfectly shaped

wants you to really ride him hard, and fast, no holds barred at all, going so feral he’ll be squeezing his eyes shut

sometimes his hair gets in the way, it’s just so damn long. the result: hair ties for face-sitting, always on his wrist

among all members, buries his face the deepest, turns him on so much

always makes sure you’re both washed up, no impromptu sessions. ten is a hygiene priest and he’s right

the mattress is kinda bouncy and he always uses his favorite soft pillow under his head so you can definitely take mister ten lee to pound town like work your hips give it to him

in case he survives i send my congrats, you got yourself the right guy, terrific choice queen

⌜ 💋 lee taeyong ⌟

▸ strength: ideas

how much more religiously can he eat you out, he treats this like the best reward he can get

as you can probably tell by now, all the lee surname members are definitely a certain brand and clan of highly distinguished pussy eaters like, these guys are a fucking gang like... well taeyong is no different

reckless abandon oral, eats you like it’s the last day, even death fears lee taeyong when he’s in giving head mode

you might be showering together beforehand and be all shy and kissy like it’s puppy love. but that is all for naught when the tongue of god is unleashed and taeyong gets himself as messed up as he can

yeah i like the thought of god being incarnated as kinky taeyong begging to have his mouth spit and cummed in it just makes sense

very deep mumbles, very hard breathing, those veiny hands on your waist, he wants to make you feel good so bad, fuck he’s so sexy

intense facial expressions, need i say more

also um... he likes to be... threatened. he’s the student you’re the teacher, strict as hell surveying his every move, the more you yell at him the harder he gets, jesus christ he has a thing for you acting mad and shit

taeyong doesn’t even need you to pull off your underwear, he’s gone get through any type of fabric with that leaking mouth

let’s just say he likes to experiment with innovative techniques... anyway, taeyong is a nasty fucking freak, he’s a grade A hoe, you never know what to expect

one time he just licks like a shy doe, the next second slurping explosion 5000

imagine whipping his thighs with a riding crop while sitting right on that ultra gorgeous elven prince face like

taeyong is almost always getting super emotional. he sheds even more tears than kai, like at some point you’ll develop a crying kink because of him SOS

nervous as hell, shaky hands. that can easily be fixed sir let’s tie em up

has you moaning nonstop, he’s so engaged and so dead-on with his movements. don’t be surprised if this damned man has your eyes almost falling out

beware, this guy is into full-on sensual deprivation as well. blindfolds are only the start.

you might end up with a whole lotta black latex involved, who knows, a whole gimp on him he’s down for that, he learned from ten what it is blame chittaphon’s vast kinky knowledge

even better: while you’re grinding on him, taeyong likes you pumping his cock with a fleshlight with zero mercy until he yelps in tiny oops

hell he might ask you to roughly fuck his face with a strap and then ride it, the mister likes double treats huh

then again: wants it to be degrading and dirty and intense on some days, and really wholesome and romantic on others

especially aftercare will be sweet and dulcet, you take care of him, pepper him with kisses for being such a dutiful boy.

looks pretty no matter what. maybe he’s born with it maybe it’s tyongbelline. yeah just how handsome is that face and hair like... t’yongreal paris in full splendor

long story short he’s an oral deity. i rest my case howdy and goodbye see you next time aye

superm masterlist

772 notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 3 years

Text

Sing to me: JJK x Reader 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Mermaid AU, Siren!Jungkook, Prince!Jungkook, homeless!Reader, Romance, Smut duh

Wordcount: 5k (medium)

Tags/Warnings: okay so, spoiled kook, possessive kook, Theres literally an attempted murder lol, drowning? whoops, blood oh no, reader is hella fucking dense ok, biting, courting lol, fish boy is in love, whoops, anyways we got sexy times too, because in this AU fishboy got legs n all of that hah, unprotected sex because, guys pls this ain't supposed to he realistic, wrap it before you tap it folks, its also not all that filthy lol, blink and you'll miss the scene, honestly I didn't include much smut because yall nasty so you will ask for dirty drabbles anyways, not that I mind lol, k I'm done I think, wow mom I've sinned less than usual..

Summary: Help me love myself, and I might learn to love you as well.

Or alternatively: you save Jungkook from being killed, and he totally gets the wrong signals. But he's cute, so its fine. Probably.

Jungkook is floating.

He thinks about what lies above the waves, and cant think of anything he really finds interesting. The surface is littered in junk, in things humans leave behind without thinking twice about it. It's air is thick and stuffy, hard to breathe and never clear at all. It's crowded, with creatures who at the end of the day all look the same in his eyes. There's nothing exciting about the world people walk on.

Its boring, and dirty.

His own home is, compared to that, a kingdom radiating like the moon itself. It shines and sparkles, and harbors some of the most beautiful creatures ever to be found. He and his family, as well as everyone else, live in peace with nature down underneath the waves, existing side by side instead of trying to gain the upper hand all the time.

And he's reminded of the cruelty of man, when he finds himself caught in a net.

He's somehow made the fishermen drop it instead of pulling him up on their boat. But that doesn't mean he's free- he's still struggling with it, fighting it, but he cant rip it apart. All he does really, is tie the knots tighter, have them dig into his skin until spots are rubbed raw. He can't really swim anywhere at this point, gives up as he can see the last lights of his distant home fade into the distance.

Jungkook is floating.

He's slowly being led by the waves, by the love of wind and waters, as he closes his eyes. Its a pity, really; for a prince held so high to die by the mere hands of the poor, he thinks. It's upsetting him, very much so, but he takes it as it is. There's nothing he can do anyways, as he slowly comes into contact with the sand below. It washes him up onto short, the dry sand sticking to his body, waves pushing him higher and higher onto the ground.

He shivers, the cold outside air biting at his skin now unsheltered and defenseless.

He doesn't know how long he lays there.

But at some point, steps are heard on the sand. He keeps his eyes closed, doesn't care about what will happen next- he really just wants to have it be over by now, the ropes already painfully burning his skin at certain spots. He's sure theres sand in his wounds as something touches him- warm fingers, hesitant, and almost shy.

He keeps his eyes closed.

"My god, I hate humans.." You mutter under your breath, your voice hitting his ears, making him notice the way it sounds. He thinks it sounds very similar to some of his kind; sirens being blessed with voices sweet and enchanting. Maybe you were one of the strays who had decided to live on the surface for some reason? But your smell was entirely human, although much sweeter and pleasant than anyone he'd met before. And then, after a small short moment of pain-

He's free.

His arms flop to his side, and he breathes in deeply- finally able to fully move again. His eyes open, and adjust to the night for a moment, before they meet yours.

How interesting.

"Jungkook?" Jimin asks him, curious to what has gotten the young Siren so occupied. Typically, Jungkook would be watching the annual kingdom dances with at least some form of interest; even if it was just a glimpse of it, just to make his parents worry less about him misbehaving. But today, as the graceful dancers move around to the orchestra playing, the young prince is absolutely not there. At least not mentally. "Jungkook." The older one scolds, getting Jungkooks attention- his gaze hard and annoyed. "Please, young prince- at least try to pretend you're interested. This is after all part of our culture." He strategically uses his title as teasing- something which makes Jungkook snort without any fun.

"I really don't want to be here." He explains, and Jimin sighs. "I'd rather be at the surface.." He mumbles, being careful not to be too loud- but Jimin does pick it up, and so does his partner, Taehyung, next to him- now leaning a bit forward to hear better.

"Oh?" Jimin asks. "What could be of interest there, I wonder?" He teases, and Jungkook grows even more irritated.

"Nothing that should interest a whore like you." He says harshly, though Jimin knows he means no harm with it. Jimin is, after all, a man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life- which is why he can't quite grasp why Jungkook, a young man in his prime like himself, doesn't seem to care about whats going on around him.

"Hm, but I think she must be absolutely divine if you're willing to risk the wrath of your own mother just to see her." He says, and Taehyung snickers next to him, clearly amused.

But to both of their surprise, Jungkook grows.. calm. Theres even a glimpse of a smile on his lip as he rests his head on his head, elbow on the armrest of his throne. "That she is." He says, quietly, as he watches the young woman in front of him. He has to imagine you there instead, moving oh so gracefully to the sounds of his Kingdom's greatest musicians- dressed in the most beautiful gown he'd gift you. "That she is.." He repeats, a dreaming look on his face that Jimin has not seen before.

Jungkook watches you.

He enjoys watching you on your daily trips to the beach, picking up cans and bottles, and other things people throw away without care. You're cleaning up the beach, and he thinks its a very good behavior- he likes the way you always carefully scan the ground and sides for any garbage. He swims a little closer as he spots you squatting down; eyes lighting up as you pick up a shell he'd personally not care much for. It's slightly pink- but nothing he hasn't seen in his life. They're so common, and he suddenly thinks that if this already makes you happy, what if he was to bring you something else? Something better, something more worth your attention?

He feels a rush of excitement.

Dashing into the opposite direction, he makes his way towards the ground below, eyes scanning the ground as he searches for something. He spots it after a few minutes of searching, but when he holds the pearl, he hesitates.

Its not enough.

No, that's not what you should get. He's only paying back his dept, yeah, that's what he's doing. But what if he was overdoing it by bringing you something too expensive or rare? No, he should be smart about it, yeah. Start small, and work your way up he thinks, as he takes the pearls he's collected while deep in thought, and pushes himself back to the top, swimming easily. He hopes you're still there-

And there you are, dipping your feet into the water.

He looks at what he can see; only able to see clearly underneath the waves rather than above. There's a bracelet hanging around your ankle, and it looks cheap, he thinks. It only helps him by giving him ideas for his next gifts- if you would accept his first, that is. He's never been rejected before, but then again, has always rejected instead. Nothing had interested him to the extend you did. Maybe you really were of his kind, secretly.

When he slowly brings his head up the waves, you don't get scared, or flinch. You simply look, spot him, and smile.

He likes that expression.

He comes closer, free hand helping him onto the stone you sit on, his hand holding your gift eagerly pushing against yours. You understand quickly, and open them, and he smiles. You're smart, he notes, and it only adds to your qualities, he thinks. Dropping the pearls, your eyes sparkle again- as they should, he thinks with pride. You inspect them with big eyes, as if you've never seen something alike. He enjoys your reaction- and you nod at him. "Thank you- are they for me to keep?" You ask, pointing to them, and then at your chest. He's not fully fluent in human language, but has picked up on some words and phrases, since Seokjin had recently strayed- teaching him some stuff whenever he got bored and visited his younger brother.

So Jungkook nods. "You." He says, and you like the sound of his voice; fittingly just as handsome as the rest of him, you think. But then again- his kind is known for its beauty and enchanting voices. "Keep." He tells you, pushing your closed palm a bit closer to your body as if to underline his statement. You think its cute, in a way.

"Okay." You say. "I'll keep them-?" You ask, and he doesn't understand, until you point to yourself, and say a name- yours, he supposes.

"Ah-" He starts, pointing to himself. "Jungkook. Jeon, Jungkook." He tells you, and you nod, smiling.

"It's nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook." You smile, and he grins back, slightly sharpened canines in stark contrast with his bunny-like smile.

He thinks its nice to meet you too.

"But you're a witch, aren't you?" Jungkook argues, staring at Taehyung. "I thought you were all so capable." He challenges, and Taehyungs eyes darken- quite literally, since sea witches do technically have black eyes- but conceal them, as to not scare off people. He regains his composure however when Jimins hand lays on his shoulder.

"Now now, no need to become huffy." He says. "He didn't say he can't do it- he simply told you that its not that easy." He explains, and Jungkook sighs, rolling his eyes. Ever the spoiled prince, they think to themselves.

"I don't care about that." He states. "Can you do it, or can you not?" He asks, and Taehyung thinks for a moment.

"I.." He begins, before he sighs. "I can. But, there's a catch, Jungkook." He tells him, and this time, the youngest of the group seems just as serious as he listens. "I can't promise that.. the result will be what you will expect." He says.

"What do you mean?" Jungkook asks.

"There's a chance she won't survive it."

He doesn't think much about why you're so often sitting on that rocky structure close to the deep- he likes not having to get out of the water to be close to you. And you think, Jungkook is quite the interesting being.

He’s curious; that much you can tell. His hands rest on your knees, your toes sometimes brushing against his abdomen as he swims closer- face coming forward to properly look at you. His vision must be bad outside of the waters you assume, his brown eyes squinting in concentration until he huffs and let’s himself back into the waters. You chuckle, and simply take off your jacket, slipping into the water as well as you control your breath- his entire face brightening at your body now underwater in his world, finally clear to see for his eyes.

You’re pretty, he thinks, definitely prettier than any other human he’d encountered before. The clothes covering your breasts and private parts a bit dull and boring for his taste- but he’d change that soon. He smiles, happy, before holding up his finger as if to signal for you to wait before he swims away, elegantly and fast. You swim up to breath some air, catch your breath, until there’s a hand around your calf, holding, fingers running over the skin, signaling you to come down again. You follow his question, taking a deep breath to meet him underneath the surface; his excited hands wrapping something around your neck, before he swims in circles as if he’s suddenly got too much energy. You point to yourself, as if to ask if you can keep it- and he nods, wide eyes watching you with a smile that you can’t help but mirror.

You don't quite realize what he's doing.

He however thinks you know. You know that he's courting you, and you're interested in him. You know that he's just given you more than a simple gift. He only believes you're letting him work for it- something he happily does, taking on the challenge as always. He swims closer, holds your shoulders, as his eyes look into yours, his gaze happy and child-like almost. He's close to finally showing you affection- but you suddenly swim to the surface instead.

And even though he knows you only wanted to breathe, he can't help but feel slightly sour at the ruined moment.

"You're awfully happy these days." His mother says, watching her son in the gardens of the palace. "May I ask what has gotten you in such a bright mood?" She asks, and Jungkook doesn't quite know how to break it to her. He knows its not forbidden, knows it has, and does, happen each and every day it seems- but there's still fear inside of him. Theres still hesitation, even though he is not ashamed of what has happened- of what he has done. His mother however notices. "You know you can trust me, right?" She says, and he nods.

Its now or never.

"I've found a mate." He says, and his mother smiles warmly, holding his cheek as she kisses it in congratulation. "Its a human." He says, quietly, hurried- but his mother continues to smile.

"I have suspected as much." She states. "Your friend- Park Jimin- is not very good at talking quietly." She snickers, and Jungkook curses under his breath about how he wants to strangle him. Theres a huge weight lifted off of him however; finally having said it, made it very real to him, in a way- even though it was already.

Because, after all; you were wearing his kingdom's sigil around your neck already. He had claimed you.

He's restless the next time he swims to the shore to meet you again- eager to see you to give you the news of his family's acceptance.

You're late- later than usual, and his brows are furrowed, mood upset at your mannerism. You're usually always on time, always just as eager to see him he thinks- but this time, you're not there. After his anger however, he grows increasingly worried instead. What if something had happened to you instead? Oh what a bad person he would be to be mad at you for getting into an unfortunate situation. As guilt slowly makes his way into his body, claims his muscles, he moves to sit on the stone he usually finds you on. He tries to look around- rain on his skin making it possible to be out way more comfortably.

He spots movement above.

Theres a person he can't make out- throwing something off the cliff down into the sea, and Jungkook clicks his tongue in anger, already upset- but still curious on what it was the person had been so eager to discard. Typically, its tiny things or plastic he finds- but this is something else, he knows.

Underwater, he smells blood.

His pupils contract, eyes widening, as he spots the black bag slowly making its way to the bottom of the sea- red trail leading from it. Its not the blood however that makes him frantic- its the smell of it, of you, that stops his heart.

He gets you out the bag, his anger over the entire situation diminishing into nothing as he holds you close, eyes spotting the deep cut on your side, and the scratches on your face. Unsure where to bring you, he holds you close, brings you onto his back as one of his hands hold yours, your arms around his neck. He swims quickly to the only place he knows you can breathe.

The underwater cave is big enough for now, he thinks, as he brings your body onto the ground, out the water. He doesn't notice he's crying, doesn't quite speak, his native language of clicking sounds and little noises escaping him as he whines out for your attention, waiting for you to wake up somehow. He's been so invested in making you like him and accept him that he's got no idea what to do with a human. Are you cold? How can he warm you up? How does he stop bleeding wounds? How much can you bleed before you die? Are you already dying?

Jungkook doesn't know what to do. So he simply lays by your side, holding you close, in hopes his slightly higher body temperature can keep you warm.

"He's doing the best he can-" Jimin says, Seokjin next to Taehyung as they both lean over your body. Both witches are concentrated, already exhausted, but there's no way they're giving up on you now. Not only because you're important to Jungkook- but because no one deserves to simply die like this.

"I know, I know!" Jungkook huffs out, pupils turned into cat like slits- a clear sign of the absolute terror and chaos inside of him. "What if they're best isn't good enough? Jimin, I can't loose her, you don't understand-" He starts, but Jimin holds the younger one's shoulders, for the first time serious with him.

"I do." He glances at Taehyung. Jimin had saved Taehyung before as well- the young sea witch having been hit by a fisherman's harpoon years ago. Ever since then, Jimin had been attached to the witch like glue. "Trust me, I really do. And they're doing all they can to make sure she's going to be fine." He promises, and Jungkook nods.

All he can do is pray.

When you wake up, there's several things you notice.

First, you're alive. Having a raging headache, and your limbs and muscles feel horribly tender, but you're alive. There's also strings of rope tied to two rock formations acting like a clothing line, several blankets and clothes hanging from it. They don't look human-made to you- the fabrics and designs not something you would think of as regular. There's a bucket and several stained rags- now copper-brown with old blood. Its then that you look down, seeing your cut sewed shut.

You also notice its rather soft underneath you.

Its sheepskin laid over seaweed you notice- the whool soft and fluffy, and warm. Everything seems to be so thoughtfully placed, even some decorative items- you can spot fireflies casually sitting in a jar close by, and burned wood, probably to . Probably to make light during the night. You're tired however, so you simply lay down again. Quite honestly, surely you should fee worried about the situation- but then again, there was no one to miss you, no place you called your home anyways. No use in worrying- because deep down, you had your suspicion.

A Jungkook swims to the surface with the plastic box in his arms, he's careful not to throw it too hard onto the ground. As he steps out the water, he's sure to at least try and his his hands of most the water before he goes to check on the blankets he had brought this early morning. They've dried enough, he notices, and is glad about that, as he picks one up.

You don't have to be cold anymore, he thinks.

He's unnaturally careful for his typical character- his usual behavior quite the opposite as it was now. Now, he's making sure you're properly tucked in, as he notices your eyes watching him.

He freezes, for a moment.

Jungkook hasn't really thought much about what would happen if you were to wake up- after all, Seokjin had told him he was unsure if you were to wake up this early in the first place, and Taehyung didn't even know if you would wake up at all. He'd told his younger brother to be prepared for any reaction really; fear, confusion, maybe even anger. But you seem calm, curious even, and Jungkook decides to sit down in front of your face, waiting.

"You brought me here, right?" You ask, and he nods, eyes not leaving your form.

"You-.. hurt." He points to the spot where your wound had been. "Also hurt." His hand points to your head. "Brothers, helped." He informs you, and you smile, nodding at his words. He suddenly looks at the ground, mumbling. "I.. worried. Thought... you, dying." He tells you, and you sit up slowly again, keeping the blanket around your shoulders.

"I'm not dead though." You say, and he nods. "Thank you, Jungkook. Now we're even." You say, and he tilts his head in confusion- a mannerism you could only think of as cute. "I saved you- you saved me." You say, and he smiles, nodding.

"I-" He starts, leaning forward a bit, now way more energetic and lighthearted as before. "I- we-" He growls a little in frustration, and you cant help but giggle at his troubles- the chirps and clicks escaping him foreign- but somehow, they feel hazy, as if your mind knows the language, but has forgotten what it meant. He's trying so hard you notice, and appreciate. "You like here?" He asks, and points around. You nod, and he beams at you. "I made." He tells you, proudly so.

"I guessed as much. Its very thoughtful of you, thank you." You say, and he nods, happy you like what he did for you. Its not a permanent solution, obviously, but as soon as you're healed well enough, he already planned a new spot for you to come with him.

You just don't know it yet.

There's a weird feeling inside of you.

It's like homesickness, you think. Every time you look at the waters, you feel- sad? It's making you uneasy, and with every day passing by, it just gets worse and worse. But it's today, that you cant take it.

When you dip your legs into the water, it soothes an ache you can't recognize ever having. It helps your skin, it somehow feels as if you're breathing again. But It's not enough, you think- before you let yourself fall into the deep end.

You're floating.

It's like leaving a stuffy and crowded mall, just to stand in a park, fresh air after it had rained, and light breeze clearing your head. Everything is silent, but not at the same time- the water around you feeling as if you're being hugged, held. It makes you relax, makes you let go, makes you only exist for a moment.

You're floating.

And there's a sudden wave of realization that you're also breathing. There's no water in your lungs- or maybe there is, and you just don't feel it being there. Darkness surrounds you as you don't know where you are exactly- theres no telling where is where, no way to know if you're upright or not. Maybe you've died?

Did you drown?

If you did, it would explain Jungkook being there. He's swimming towards you with a face full of worry, as he grabs your wrist and holds you close. "I can't even let you out of my sight for a mere day it seems, my love." He sighs, and your eyes widen. Its almost comedic how his own do the same, focusing on your neck, as he touches.

You're sensitive, and shift away from his touch.

"It-" He starts, now holding your shoulders, as he begins to smile. "It worked! It really did- by the dragon kind, you look absolutely divine!" He laughs, and can't help but hold your hands, eyes roaming your appearance, as you don't quite get it- until you follow his gaze.

Just like him, there's fins now on the sides of your calfs, smaller ones on your ankles as well. Theres also ones decorating your outer forearms- they look like the ones you'd always see on goldfish as a kid. There's something alike to scales as well, but barely noticable. "I- what happened to me?" You ask, and Junkook smiles.

"You.. almost died." He admits, taking your hand and swimming to what you assume is back towards the cave. "You had been robbed during the day, and when I found you.. well, you know what happened." He says. "While you were asleep, we were thinking about what to do. There was no way you would survive as a human- so, a friend of mine- Taehyung- performed a ritual, together with Seokjin, my brother." He says. You finally spot light, glad to be able to have at least some form of orientation. "I'm glad you're adjusting so quickly, my love." He states, smiling at you.

You notice the petname again.

"Jungkook-" You start, as you both reach the cave again, sitting on the edge of where the ground of the cave meets the water. "Why are you.. calling me that?" You ask, and Jungkook seems confused.

"Why do you ask?" He questions. And you don't quite follow, until he continues. "You're my mate- I am only addressing you as such."

Your eyes widen. "Wait- we're-" You start, and its only then that it clicks in Jungkooks head.

"Oh." He says- the dissapointment bitter and evident in his voice. "You.. didn't know?" He asks, and you shake your head, unsure what he means. "I see.." He tells you, suddenly distant. "I.. will bring you breakfast tomorrow.. sleep well." He abruptly says, and before you can say anything, he's already gone.

What just happened?

"There you are!" A voice says, deeper than Jungkooks, but not unfamiliar. Taehyung had been visiting and bringing you food and nescessities ever since that talk with Jungkook. This time, however, Taehyung seems like he wants to say something. You look at him, silently urging him, and he sits down next to you, sighing.

"Does he hate me?" You ask, quietly, and Taehyung looks sad.

"He could never." He says. "He just.. didn't take the rejection well. He'll need time to come around. It won't take that much time- his mother is already trying to get a new partner for him." He explains, and your head whips around towards him. "I- you.. did reject him, right?" He asks, slowly. "You do.. not love him, right?" He urges again, and you groan suddenly, throwing your face into your hands.

"Oh my god I'm so stupid.." You say. "It all.. everything was so overwhelming, I didn't even notice what he was doing." You cry into your hands, as Taehyungs hand places itself onto your back, trying to soothe you. "I though.. especially after I found out about his status.." You mumble. "How could he want me?" You ask, and Taehyung sighs.

"Head up, little siren." He says. "He's still able to hear you sing, if you want to." He says, and you look at him.

"But how?" You say. "I have no idea where the kingdom, or anything really is. And he won't come see me until its too late." You say.

"Well-" Taehyung says, standing up, and holding out his hand. "-allow me to escort the future princess to her lover."

"How did you find me?" He simply asks, not turning around, as you float closer. "I'm sorry, but I still need time to.. get over-" He starts, but you don't let him finish, instead leaning into his back, your arms around his middle.

"I'm stupid." You say. "I'm really, really stupid." He shakes his head, but you continue. "Just because I didn't realize- doesn't mean that I don't feel anything for you." You say. "I just.. felt unworthy, I guess. Insignificant." You admit, and he turns around, holding your face in his hands.

"You really are not gifted with the mind of the dragons king, my love." He states teasingly, the glimmer in his eyes returning. "My status means nothing to me, if that meant I could not have you." He says, and you lean forward, capturing his lips. "I hope you know what this meant, at least." He teases, and your eyes widen, scared you might've done something wrong. "It means you love me." He says, and you chuckle.

"Good." You say. "Because I do."

Even though he thinks you looked like a goddess reborn in your white and pearl decorated gown from the wedding, he enjoys you without it, close to him, just as much. He's alive, he's feeling, he's in love, as his hands move over your skin, his senses filled with you and nothing else.

The sounds you make for him are sweeter than any siren's song he's ever heard or could ever sing himself. No member of his kind is as enchanting as you, he decides, as he bites and kisses the sensitive skin of your neck. Jimin had teased him relentlessly the entire evening and night by trying to send you sweet words, to which you didn't react- but that didn't mean that it didn't piss him off.

You were his.

His princess- and soon to be queen, one day.

And he's planning on making that very evident, as he marks up your skin with little bites, visible for everyone to see. He wants everyone to know, even though by tomorrow, the entire Kingdom will celebrate the marriage of its prince anyways. He's more than ready to show you off, to hold you close, to have people see the divine being at his side that's you.

It's only natural for his hands to roam your skin, for his lips to worhip every inch it seems, as you reach out for his hand every second it leaves you. It's painfully endearing he thinks, how you can be so innocent and pure, while he's between your legs, performing the sinful act of pleasuring you with his mouth.

You pull him towards you, as you straddle his waist, leaning down to kiss him. He's in god's divine lands he thinks, as he suddenly feels you sinking down on his awaiting length. You fit around him perfectly, more so than he could've ever imagined. And as you both move, he holds you close, happy that here, in his world, he doesn't need to breathe.

He can kiss you as long as he wants.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. I spilled strawberry milk on my poor laptop while writing this.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #Sing To Me AU

1K notes · View notes

sunflowervolvimp3 · 4 years

Text

42 Hours (II)

Content: part 2 to an enemies to lovers au in which Harry and Y/N are forced into a cross country road trip to make it to their best friends’ wedding on time!! includes a karaoke bar in Cleveland, Ohio, sharing of motel rooms (oh my god there was only one bed 👁️👁️), and a lesbian wedding in the Catskills

Warnings: language, alcohol, NSFW content, making fun of Nebraska and The Notebook

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Word Count: 32k

A/N: okay can I just say that I am so glad this is finally done. I have been working on this fic for over a month!!! the entire thing is over 51k in length!!!!!! my word doc is almost 100 pages!!!! this was meant to be a fun story about enemies to lovers stuck on a road trip!!!!! what happened!!!! but thank you guys so much for all the love and support and interest in this story <3 I was really nervous about splitting it up (which looking back was a good choice because again. it’s so long.) but you all showed so much love for the story and the characters!!!! I’d like to give a special shout out to miss andrea @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy and miss alex @darthstyles for proof reading, and miss andrea again for this pretty header image!! if you’re looking for any good reads after this, I highly recommend checking out their masterlists!! and as always, if you like this fic, please like it AND reblog it!! and shoot me a message about it!! feedback is always appreciated, not just by me, but by ALL content creators, and is the main motivation for us to create more for you all to enjoy!!

{masterlist}

here is everyone’s wedding looks!! and HERE is a lil moodboard of Jo and Laure’s wedding so you can sense the vibes!!

also!! if you want to set the mood for a road trip with Harry, here is a link to the playlist that is mentioned and referenced in this fic!!

It’s almost instantaneous, Y/N notices, how quickly and easily she and Harry fall into a rhythm of friendship. From the moment she wakes up the next morning to a blue sky, the storm long passed, and Harry holding out a cup of black coffee for her, the stress and anxiety of the previous day is gone. There’s no watching herself around Harry, biting her tongue to stop herself from snapping over every small motion he makes as he fidgets in the driver’s seat. There’s no irritation caused by the way he taps his fingers on the steering wheel, or how he asks any question that crosses his mind, speaking out his random chain of thoughts just as often.

The thing that Y/N’s come to realize is that Harry is so much more interesting than she’d ever thought. He’s certainly more interesting than the endless fields of corn that whip by her window as he drives down the interstate. His jokes are dumb, but he says them with such a big grin on his face that she can’t help but laugh. His comments are strange, but Y/N finds herself enjoying the weird words that slip from his mouth without being caught by a filter.

“If we were in a Children of The Corn situation,” Harry begins, raising his voice to be heard over the sounds of Simon and Garfunkel. “Do you think you’d be able to outsmart the cult? Or would you get sacrificed to He Who Walks Behind the Rows?”

Y/N half chokes on the bottle of water she’d just raised to her lips, and coughs the liquid from her lungs as she turns to give Harry an incredulous look. “Excuse me?”

“We’re in Nebraska. That’s where it takes place, right?” Harry asks, glancing at Y/N from behind his sunglasses. “There’s, like, a weird child cult, and they kill all the adults in town for the corn harvest, or something, and then this couple on a road trip discovers them, and tries to stop them. Do you think you’d be able to?”

“Do I think I’d be able to stop a child cult? Or would I get sacrificed to their weird corn god? That’s what you’re asking me?” Although she can’t help but snort at the ridiculousness of the question, her mind is already appraising the situation Harry’s proposed. “I think I’d be able to stop them. They’re just kids, right? You just can’t be afraid to—you know—” Y/N drags her thumb across her throat, and Harry quirks up an eyebrow at her casual response.

“You’d kill a bunch of kids?”

“If the kids were evil and wanted to kill me? Absolutely.” Y/N leans her head back on the head rest, still keeping her eyes locked on Harry. “Wouldn’t you?”

Harry lifts one shoulder in response. “I don’t know. I’d try to reason with them, I think.”

Y/N extends a finger gun at him, clicking her tongue in sync with the motion. “And that’s why they’d sacrifice you and not me.”

Harry laughs, shaking his head slowly as he turns his attention back to the road. “Lovely. Wouldn’t you try to save me?”

Y/N hums, pretending to think the question over. “That depends on how annoying you’ve been that day.”

“You’re such a sweetheart, Y/N, you really are.” Harry laughs more, but stops abruptly as he spots a sign to the right of the road. “Oh! There’s a souvenir shop at the next exit!”

A groan falls from Y/N’s mouth as her head flops back, already sensing defeat. “No, Harry, you don’t need another keychain—”

“You don’t know that! Maybe I could get a corn stalk keychain!”

…

“You know, I could drive for a bit. If you’d like.”

Harry looks up at Y/N with an apprehensive gaze, his nimble fingers halfway through attaching a new silver key chain in the shape of Nebraska to his key ring. “What?”

“You’ve been driving for three days straight.” Y/N leans over the passenger side of the car, resting her arms on the sun-warmed roof. “I could drive. I know how to; I just don’t do it in L.A. because the traffic is annoying. But the interstate is practically empty, so…”

“Uh, no offense, Y/N, but…” Harry opens the drivers door, a small smile curving the corner of his lip. “No one drives Stevie but me. And besides, she’s a stick. Have you ever driven one?”

“Well, no.” Y/N admits, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. “But you could show me.”

Harry inhales deeply, glancing around the souvenir shop parking lot. Y/N can tell he’s surveying the area, searching for a reason to say no, but as far as she can tell, there isn’t one. There are no other cars around, and the area is mostly flat, giving her a good space to practice driving in. With a defeated look on his face, Harry exhales sharply and gives a quick nod as he takes a step back from the driver’s side. “Fine. Get in.”

Y/N and Harry swap sides in the car, although Y/N is much more enthusiastic about it than Harry is. From the moment she climbs in and begins adjusting his seat, a pained look comes over Harry’s face, making her roll her eyes.

“Oh, come on. You’re a giant, Harry, I have to adjust things so I can reach the pedals.” Y/N scoffs, reaching up to adjust the rear view mirror. “You can put them all back later.”

“Yeah.” Harry sucks in another breath before pushing his sunglasses up into his chestnut curls. “Okay, so…there’s three pedals on the floor. The right one is gas, the middle is the brake, and the left is the clutch. And then here—” Harry takes Y/N’s right hand and places it over the gear shift. “This is how you shift. There’s six gears, right? And their use depends on the speed you’re going, so you’re going to start with one—” His hand squeezes hers as he shifts the gear shift over and up to the left with ease. “Which is here. Here’s two—” He shifts the gear shift down to the left, and continues to move it as he speaks. “Three. Four. Five. And reverse. Got it?”

“I think so.” Y/N nods, her hand flexing beneath Harry’s large palm. His rings feel cool against her warm skin, and she has to admit, it’s not the worst feeling in the world. “Up left, down left, up middle, down middle, up right, down right. Right?”

“Right.” Harry lifts his hand off hers to point towards her feet, which are sitting on the carpet cover in front of the pedals. “You want to start with your foot pressed firmly on the clutch, the one—yeah. There, to the left. Keep it pressed there. Is it pressed there?”

“Since you first told me to press it, yeah.” Y/N furrows her brow in concentration, which is caused both from learning how to drive manually, and the effort it takes to stop herself from laughing at the nervousness in Harry’s voice. “Now what?”

“Take off the parking brake.” Harry pulls the lever down himself, making sure Y/N is focused on her other movements. “And the car is in neutral, so you can turn the key in the ignition.” He holds out his keys towards her.

Y/N takes the cool metal from his hands, quickly finding the right key for the Impala and slipping it in. The car roars to life, a sound which is now familiar to her ears. “Okay. There.”

“Good.” Harry pauses for a moment before reaching across Y/N’s body and buckling her seatbelt, which she had forgotten in the excitement to drive. “Safety first.” He sits back in the passenger seat, fixing his seatbelt across his own body. “I have a feeling we’ll be needing these.”

“Oh, shut up.” Y/N sticks her tongue out at him, her eyebrows and nose wrinkling as she makes a face. “What do I do now?”

“Now…” Harry fidgets with his seatbelt again as he moves forward in the passenger seat, one hand bracing against the dash as he directs her. “Press the clutch and the brake at the same time, like that. Now move the gear shift into first gear.”

Y/N does as he says, pushing the gear shift over and up to the left. It takes much more pressure for her to move it without Harry’s help, she notes, but doesn’t let the effort show on her face. “Then?”

“Take your foot off the brake.” Harry instructs, caution laced through his voice. “And slowly—slowly! —release the clutch as you press down gently on the gas.”

“Okay…” Lifting her left foot first, Y/N does her best to match the motion with her right foot, pressing down at the same pace as she lifts the other. Her movement, however, isn’t as smooth as she wants it to be, and the car lunges forward in a choppy motion.

“Careful!” Harry says loudly, twisting his body to face Y/N as he continues bracing himself. His entire body is tense, his shoulders practically up by his ears as he appraises Y/N. “You have to do it at the same time!”

“Alright, alright—” Y/N tries again, focusing on matching her feet to each other. This time, the movement is smoother, and the car begins to drive forward slowly, moving faster as Y/N presses down more. “Is that—am I doing it?” Y/N asks nervously, navigating herself slowly through the parking lot. “Is that it?”

“That’s it. You’re doing good, yeah.” Harry nods slowly, but Y/N can see the strain in his jaw from the corner of her eye. “Now let’s try…let’s try shifting gears, so you can speed up.”

“Try not to sound so terrified.” Y/N mutters, turning the wheel to guide the car around a lamp post.

Harry ignores her comment. “You’re going to do the same motion, but this time release the gas while pressing down on the clutch. Then move the gear shifter to two, like before, and—”

Before Harry can finish speaking, Y/N attempts to change into second gear. The car lurches again as she releases the gas and presses on the clutch, and the jagged motion only gets worse after she shifts into second.

“Slowly, Y/N—” Agitation is clear in Harry’s voice, and his knuckles turn white as he grips the dash. “Slower!”

Another lunge of the car shifts Y/N to the side, and her foot slips off the clutch completely. With a sickening sound, the car lurches to a stop, despite Y/N’s foot still pressed on the gas. “What—?”

Harry, who’s been wincing throughout the entire ordeal, sucks in a sharp breath. “You stalled her.” He says, shaking his head with a quiet horror.

Y/N tugs on her bottom lip as she glances at him from the corner of her eye, her voice hesitant. “Is…that bad?”

“Is that—?” Harry’s green irises snap to meet hers, wide open and shocked. “Yeah, it’s bad. That’s enough practice for today, I think. I’m driving again.”

Y/N tries to protest. “But—”

“Nope! Out!” Harry shakes his head firmly, unbuckling his seatbelt and exiting the car in one swift motion. “Come on!”

With a defeated sigh, Y/N unbuckles herself, climbing out of the driver’s door that Harry’s just opened for her. “Sorry.” She mumbles, walking around to the passenger’s side and climbing back in.

Harry gives her a small smile, albeit a pained one, as he begins to move his feet over the brake and clutch, shifting the car into neutral. “It’s fine. That was pretty good for a first practice, really. Just…maybe it’s too soon for highway driving.”

Y/N buckles her seatbelt as Harry restarts the engine, and within a few minutes, he has his signal flipped back on to head back to the highway. “You know, mostly I wanted to drive so that I could pick the music.” She says casually, resting her chin in her hand after propping it up against the arm rest. “I’m getting a little tired of The Beatles on repeat.”

Harry laughs, raking his hand through his curls before shifting gears with ease. “Oh really? What would you put on, if you had a choice?”

“I don’t know.” Y/N shrugs, taking a moment to think. “We could listen to a nice sonata, maybe. Oh! Or Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. I haven’t listened to it in full in a while.”

A sound of surprise and indignation leaves Harry’s mouth. “Tchaikovsky—? No! No, you can’t listen to classical music on a road trip! You need music that you can scream the lyrics to!”

“Is there a rulebook about what you can and can’t listen to on a road trip?” Y/N raises an eyebrow as she poses the sarcastic question. “I wasn’t aware.”

“There’s an unofficial rulebook, yes.” Harry risks a glance over at Y/N, his green eyes alight. “And one of the most important—if not the most important—rules is that any song you listen to has to be able to be sung loudly while driving down a highway. Everyone knows that.”

“My bad.” Y/N says sarcastically, toeing off her shoes to better cross her legs beneath herself. “So, in short, we’re stuck listening to your playlist, huh?”

“Now you get it.” Harry shoots her a cheeky grin, pointing with his free hand. “You can change the song, though. If you’d like.”

“Really?” Y/N reaches down to the small catch all tray between them, where Harry’s phone sits connected to a car charger. She picks it up carefully, raising an eyebrow in question. “May I?”

When Harry nods, Y/N clicks on the screen, which displays the controls to the Spotify playlist currently being projected through the car’s speakers. Unsurprisingly, a Beatles song is moving across the scene, causing Y/N to press the skip button immediately. The next song is by The Killers, called “Spaceman,” and while she likes it, it’s not really something she feels like listening to in the moment. She hits skip again, passing over “Night Moves,” “Piano Man,” and “Seven Wonders,” (the last skip earning a sound of protest from Harry) before a familiar album cover pops up on the screen.

“Hold on.” Y/N says, mouth agape as the 1990s Vocoder sound fills the car. “You listen to Cher?”

“Are you kidding?” Harry’s surprised expression matches hers. “Of course! She’s a treasure.” He taps his fingers to the beat of “Believe” while his head bops to the same pattern. “I love this song. It’s a good one.”

Making a sound of agreement, Y/N lets her gaze drift to the window, watching the agriculture fields that whiz by. “Yeah.” She murmurs, losing herself in the beat. “‘No matter how hard I try…you keep pushing me aside’…”

“‘And I can’t break through’…” Harry’s voice joins with hers, louder and surer of himself than hers had been. “‘There’s no talking to you’…”

Y/N’s head turns from the window, locking eyes with Harry for the split second he looks away from the road ahead of them. “‘It’s so sad that you’re leaving…it takes time to believe it’…”

“‘But after all is said and done’…” The grin playing on Harry’s pink lips grows, popping out his dimples as he continues to sing. “‘You’re gonna be the lonely one’…”

With a grin pasted across her own face, so big that her cheeks ache, Y/N joins Harry for the chorus, yelling the lyrics more than singing them. “‘Do you believe in life after love? I can feel something inside me say…I really don’t think you’re strong enough’!” Harry’s hand drifts down to the volume dial, turning the music up until the bass thumps through the entire car. Y/N can feel it in her chest like a second heart beat.

“‘Do you believe in life after love?’” Encouraged by each other, Harry and Y/N scream the lyrics even louder on the repeat, straining their necks as much as their vocal cords. “‘I can feel something inside me say…I really don’t think you’re strong enough’!”

When Harry’s hand moves again, Y/N thinks that he’s reaching for the dial again, perhaps to turn it down, but then his hand makes a questioning motion, and Y/N realizes that Harry, ever the one for dramatics, is acting out the lines.

“‘What was I supposed to do? Sit around and wait for you?’” Harry points at Y/N then, an exaggerated look on his face as his whole body moves to the beat. “‘Well I can’t do that! And there’s no turning back’…”

Not wanting to be one upped, Y/N pushes up the sleeve of her sweater, exposing her wrist enough that she can tap on it. “‘I need time to move on’…” A fit of giggles interrupt the next line as she and Harry both raise their arms to flex their muscles. “‘I need a love to feel strong’…” Y/N taps on her temple as she sways her body to the beat the best she can in the car. “‘Because I’ve got time to think it through’…” When she turns to point at Harry, she finds him already pointing at her, once again in sync with her thoughts. “‘And maybe I’m too good for you, oh’!”

They repeat the chorus in the same way as before, screaming the lyrics as loud as they can, pulling dramatic facial expressions and dance moves to match. Halfway through the repeat, Harry attempts to mimic the classic Cher move of pushing hair over the shoulder, and the ridiculous sight is enough to send Y/N into another fit of laughter. She almost misses the entrance for the bridge, but recovers just in time to yell the lyrics in sync with Harry.

Forming fists and dragging her arms towards her dramatically, and Harry doing the same with his free hand, the two of them screw their faces up as they sing passionately. “‘Well I know that I’ll get through this…because I know that I am strong’…” The flexing of arms returns for a moment before being replaced by impassioned pleading hand gestures. “‘I don’t need you anymore…I don’t need you anymore…no, I don’t need you anymore…no, I don’t need you anymore’…”

Although they’d been energetic in the previous choruses, Harry and Y/N give their all for the final chorus, bouncing and yelling and gesturing as much as they can as they drive down the interstate at sixty-five miles per hour. They quiet for a moment as the beat falls out, singing the lyrics at a slightly lower volume, but when the beat returns, they scream the lyrics one final time in unison before the music fades out.

The song changes to “Baby Driver,” and Harry reaches to lower the volume as he and Y/N both struggle to catch their breath. They laugh between pants, hands on chests as they rapidly rise and fall. Y/N lets her head fall back against the back of the seat, shifting her legs so only one rests on the seat beneath her thigh.

“That was a good one.” She admits, pushing her now-sweaty hair out of her face. “I’ll give you that. Cher was a good choice.”

“Do you see what I meant, now?” Harry asks breathlessly, his grin still plastered to his face. “Do you still want to listen to Tchaikovsky?”

In lieu of a reply, Y/N reaches for Harry’s phone again, skipping songs until “Jessie’s Girl” begins to drift through the speakers. “Turn it up again, Harry.”

There’s a twinkle in Harry’s eyes when he does as she says.

…

“I can sleep on the floor.” Harry volunteers, tugging his hand through his stretched out curls as his eyes scan the interior of the motel room. “Make a little bed out of pillows. Then you can have the bed.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harry.” Y/N shakes her head adamantly, setting her bag on the small table in front of the room’s mirror. “You can’t sleep on the floor!”

Harry purses his lips. “I’ll take the chair, then. I can stretch out on it—”

“Please, you have limbs like Gumby.” Rolling her eyes, Y/N unzips her bag and pulls out her toiletries. “You can’t sleep comfortably in a chair. We can deal with one bed for one night. It’s not the end of the world.”

Four days ago, Y/N might have considered having to share a bed with Harry the end of the world. If someone had told her about the lack of available motel rooms on the road, Y/N might have never left L.A. And that first night in Utah, she remembers, she would have rather smother Harry in his sleep than share a bed with him. Now, however, they’re in Iowa City, and for all her talk of how much she despised Harry before, she’s found herself quite fond of him in a short period of time.

There’s a list of reasons why that’s happened, she thinks, as she pulls out her charger to plug into the wall. Their forced close proximity in the car and motel rooms probably has something to do with it, as well as Harry being her only company for the last four days. And maybe, just maybe, a small part of it is due to the way Harry looks in the dim motel room light as he flops back on the bed, his red and black striped t-shirt riding up just the slightest bit to expose the fern tattoos lining the bottom of his stomach. The way his jade irises manage to sparkle in the light of the lamp, or how his chipped nail polish still manages to look elegant as his fingers dance along his chest and twist his rings over his knuckles. The way his lips, despite his constant habit of biting them, look so soft and so pink, and how Y/N thinks she could just—

Y/N clears her throat, stopping her thoughts in their tracks. It’s really been too long since she’s been around another human being, she thinks, keeping her back to Harry as she roots through her suitcase for her pajamas. Four days is too long for her to be with the same person, with hardly any alone time, and she’s wondering if she’ll be able to have alone time any time soon when her fingers brush over the familiar smooth silicone surface of her vibrator.

Y/N pauses, pulling her fingers back as if she’s been burned. Right. She’d tossed that in there just before leaving L.A., just in case she needed some stress relief. Glancing back over her shoulder subtly, Y/N sees that Harry has his phone out now, his nimble fingers tapping along the screen as he lays on the bed. Maybe some stress relief is exactly what she needs.

Grabbing the first articles of clothing she can get her hands on, Y/N carefully wraps her vibrator within the fabric, trying to fold it so that it doesn’t look like its hiding a small purple sex toy. Once that’s done to the best of her ability, she grabs her toiletry bag, tucking it under her arm as she quickly makes her way to the bathroom.

“I’m going to shower.” She mutters, closing the door behind her without waiting for Harry’s response.

Although the ritual of stripping from her clothes, starting the shower and adjusting the temperature settings, and relaxing her muscles underneath the (albeit low pressure) stream of water is familiar, it takes Y/N a few minutes to work up the courage to run her hands down the length of her body. She takes her time as her fingers dance over the planes of her breasts, down her stomach, fluttering over her hips before making their way to the crevice where her thighs flow into her core. Taking a deep breath, Y/N begins with just her fingers, running them through her wet folds slowly and carefully.

She allows herself the time to warm herself up, waiting until she can dip her index finger inside her slick entrance and circle its way around her clit before grabbing her vibrator from the shower ledge. She flicks it on to its lowest setting, making sure the electronic buzz is hidden beneath the sound of the shower before gently circling the tip around her clit.

The relief, Y/N finds, is instantaneous. A breathless sigh slips past her lips as she rubs the toy over her folds, delighting in the fluttering sensation it leaves behind. Without breaking contact, Y/N turns the toy up a level, biting her lip to keep from moaning as she presses it back to her clit.

Despite the tension building up in her body as Y/N works herself to an orgasm, this is the most relaxed she’s felt in days. The tension, she finds, is so much sweeter than the anxiety and stress she’s been experiencing throughout the road trip. Although her shoulders tense, it’s different than the knots worked into her muscles from hours in the car. Although her leg feels as though it may cramp from its position perched on the bath tub ledge, the burn is more welcome than the ache of being stuck in one seated position.

If someone were to ask her what crossed her mind when Y/N brought herself over the edge, what thoughts drifted into her head as she gripped the wall of the shower with one hand as her core convulsed in the most delightfully sinful way, Y/N would tell them that it was nothing specific. Strong hands, she’d say, smoothly and knowledgeably caressing her body. A low voice whispering dirty nothings in her ear. A deep breath flowing down her neck as cherry lips and white teeth nipped and kissed down her skin and across her collar bones. Nothing specific. And Y/N would believe it when she’d say it.

But if anyone were to be listening at the exact moment that she thrust the vibrator inside her, panting and whimpering as her index and middle finger worked over her clit and brought her to climax, they’d hear the breathless whisper of a name that Y/N herself didn’t even know she was saying.

The nice thing about getting off in the shower, Y/N thinks, once she’s regained enough function in her head to do so, is that cleanup is a breeze. Within fifteen more minutes, Y/N’s washed her body, shampooed and conditioned her hair, and is climbing out of the shower with the motel towel wrapped tightly around her body. Within another few minutes, she’s towel dried to the best of her ability, and finally realizing that the pajamas she’d grabbed in her quick bid for the washroom happened to be the pink silk set that she’d tucked at the bottom of her suitcase four days ago.

Cheeks burning, Y/N weighs her options. She could wrap the towel around herself, she thinks, and instruct Harry to look away as she snuck back to her suitcase and grabbed the sports bra and boxers she’d been sleeping in for the past few nights. Or…she runs her fingers over the lace trim of the set. These pajamas were quite comfortable, and the silk would feel so nice on her body after multiple nights of scratching motel sheets. And, if she’s being honest with herself, her other pajamas are quite dirty from a new nights of use. Now that her body feels completely relaxed and clean, she’d like to put on something to match.

When she steps out of the bathroom, Y/N does her best to seem casual and calm, still running her towel through her set hair, her clothes and toiletry bag (where she’s hidden her vibrator) tucked under one arm. “The shower’s free.” She says to Harry, barely glancing at him as she returns her items to her bag. “Although the water pressure is pretty shit.”

A low chuckle echoes from Harry’s mouth. “I expect nothing less.” He says, and Y/N thinks she may be in the clear when the laughter stops abruptly.

Biting back a sigh, Y/N straightens her back, knowing that she can’t avoid the conversation forever. “What?” She asks, tossing her towel on the motel room chair.

Harry is sitting up on the bed, his phone still held loosely in his right hand as his left props his body into an upright position. As his eyes scan over Y/N’s body, his tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his lips without Harry being aware he’s doing it. “What—” His voice cracks, and a flush creeps up Harry’s pale neck as he clears his throat. “What are you wearing?”

Y/N begins to comb her fingers through her hair, sectioning it off before she begins to braid. “Pajamas.”

A scoff leaves Harry’s mouth. “No, no, those aren’t pajamas. That’s…lingerie.”

“Yeah, well…I brought them as pajamas.” Y/N mumbles, twisting her hair into the desired pattern before tying it off with the ponytail on her wrist. “Look, I—my other ones are dirty, and I didn’t want to put a sweaty sports bra back on right after showering. But…if it makes you uncomfortable, then I can—”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” Harry cuts over her, giving a quick shake of his head. “I just—we’re sharing the bed tonight, so I wasn’t sure—as long as you’re comfortable—”

“I am.” Y/N says quickly, cheeks beginning to burn as the conversation continues. “I’m comfortable.”

“Alright then.” If Harry’s cheeks are any indication, then he’s feeling the same thing Y/N is. “I’m…going to shower, then.”

And that’s how, two hours later, after watching a rerun of When Harry Met Sally, Y/N ends up in bed next to Harry Styles in lingerie that she’d bought to impress her ex-boyfriend.

Harry, to his credit, is doing his best to draw a line between them. His lanky body is practically hanging off the edge of the bed with how far he’s pulled himself from her, his defined back turned towards Y/N. Her own posture mimics his, back turned from Harry, clinging to the edge of the bed in an attempt to respect his personal space. The problem, Y/N thinks, exhaling hard as she shifts under the covers, is that she doesn’t like sleeping on her side like this, and she especially doesn’t like tensing up to make sure her limbs stay in their designated zone. It feels awkward and uncomfortable, and after laying in bed for over an hour, she finally huffs before turning onto her back, her hands settling down over the sheets.

“Harry.” She whispers, twisting her head to the side as she struggles to make out the shape of his body in the dark. “Are you awake?”

The bed creaks as Harry’s body shifts towards her, twisting on his hip to be able to meet Y/N’s eyes. “Yeah. Can’t sleep.”

“Me either.” Y/N rolls over again, propping herself up on her side to face him as he matches the motion. They’re closer now, their faces about six inches away as they rest their heads on their pillows. Y/N can smell the mint of Harry’s toothpaste on his breath. “Why can’t you sleep?”

Harry shrugs one shoulder as best he can while horizontal. “Dunno.” He mumbles, voice low in the quiet darkness. “Don’t think I’m used to sharing a bed with someone and not…being close to them.”

“Yeah.” Y/N matches the tone of her voice to his, as if speaking quietly and gently will preserve whatever it is hanging between them. “Feels weird.”

Moving his hands from his chest to tuck them under his pillow, Harry worries his bottom lip between his teeth, a nervous look apparent in his eyes even in the darkness. “Would it be okay if I moved closer?” He asks, caution written into every word. “It’s just—staying on the edge isn’t very comfortable.”

Four days ago, Y/N would have shoved him off the bed. Now, however, she finds herself nodding, pulling her top leg into a bent position, her bare knee brushing over Harry’s beneath the sheets. “That’s fine.”

Y/N watches the way Harry’s body visibly relaxes, the tension she didn’t even know he had leaving his body. Trying his best to move without disturbing her, Harry turns over to lay on his toned stomach, and the sheets pull down around his body enough that Y/N can see how his Rolling Stones t-shirt has ridden up his back. Without thinking, Y/N pulls one hand from beneath her pillow and reaches for the sheets, pulling them back around Harry to his mid back.

“Thanks.” His voice is raspy, half muffled by the pillow as he tucks his hands beneath his head, eyes still locked with hers with an intensity that, during daylight hours, would have made her cheeks burn.

But in the safety of the darkness, Y/N simply returns her hand to its previous position, allowing the lack of light to masquerade the concern written onto her face. “You’re welcome.”

…

“I’m not saying The Notebook is a bad movie, I’m just saying that it doesn’t make sense!”

Harry gives Y/N an incredulous look as he flips on his turn signal, shifting gears in the car so he can exit the highway and head towards a gas station. “What do you mean, it doesn’t make sense?” He demands, turning the car over the curve of the road. “They’re in love! Noah reads to Ally to help her remember that! What about that doesn’t make sense?”

“Well, the dialogue for one.” Y/N shrugs, tapping her fingers to the beat of “Heroes” that’s drifting through the speakers.

Harry scoffs as he pulls into an empty gas station, slowing the car to a gentle stop in front of a pump. “Give me one example of the dialogue not making sense!”

“‘If you’re a bird, I’m a bird’?” Y/N raises an eyebrow as she quotes the movie. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“What do you mean, what does it mean?” Harry demands, shifting the car into neutral and pulling the emergency brake before turning off the ignition. “It’s romantic! It’s talking about—about reincarnation, and past lives—”

“And what about how Noah and Ally first met, huh? She was on a date with someone else! She wasn’t interested in him!” As she rants, Y/N’s volume grows, almost drowning out David Bowie completely. “And then he climbed up a Ferris wheel, demanded that she go out with him, and said that if she didn’t, he was going to kill himself!”

Harry points an accusatory finger at her, his expression fierce. “Don’t! It was romantic—”

Y/N pushes his finger away, holding her stance adamantly. “It was creepy! And don’t even get me started on the arguments, and the lying, and—and she was engaged to someone else! Noah was a homewrecker!”

Harry takes a deep breath, squeezing his keys in his hand as his eyes close for a moment. “I’m going to fill Stevie with petrol.” He says, his tone careful and controlled. “And when I get back, I am going to give you a very long lecture on why you’re wrong.”

Y/N rolls her eyes as she grabs Harry’s sunglasses from the cupholder next to her, slipping them onto her face as she sticks her tongue out at him. “Whatever. Go pump the gas, Styles.”

With one last withering look, Harry climbs out of the car and slams the door behind him, turning his attention to the rusted gas pump in the middle of nowhere along the Illinois interstate. Y/N can’t help but laugh at the irritated look on his face, and how he flips her the bird when he catches her laughing. Small giggles still roll through her as she turns her attention to Harry’s phone, choosing a new song as David Bowie slowly begins to fade out. She’s just begun scrolling through her options when her own phone begins to vibrate from where she has it tucked underneath her leg.

Y/N sets Harry’s phone back down on his seat as she grabs her own, her eyes widening when she sees Brant’s name lighting up her screen. She should answer, she thinks, as she hasn’t spoken to him in person since their conversation in Colorado. That conversation seems like a lifetime ago, and Y/N’s thumb hovers over the “accept” icon, her teeth tugging her bottom lip over and over. She should answer. She should. Brant will probably want to discuss work, and find out when she’s coming back so they can plan another dinner, because he always likes to schedule things at least a week in advance. He’ll tell her about his coworkers, what the weather in L.A. has been like (as if it ever changes), and maybe, just maybe, if he has time, he’ll tell her about a new Netflix series he’s just starting to watch. Y/N should answer.

The driver’s side door opens with a creak, and Harry bends down to poke his head inside. “Alright, I’m going to go inside the petrol station and get us some snacks, and then I’m going to explain to you exactly how wrong you are.” He says firmly, mouth pressed into a flat line of determination. His expression falters for just a moment as he sees the conflicted look on Y/N’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Y/N says quickly, pressing “ignore” and tucking her phone back under her leg. “Just go get the snacks while I create my counterargument, alright?”

Harry rolls his eyes, reaching into the car and pulling his sunglasses off Y/N’s face. He slips them over his own eyes, his expression back to its determined look. “Fine. Do you want Cheezies?”

“Uh huh. The crunchy ones!” Y/N reminds him, grabbing his phone from the seat again to continue selecting a new song.

“Right. The crunchy ones.” Harry shoots her a finger gun as he shuts the car door. “You can eat them as I prove you wrong!”

“You wish!” Y/N yells back, the phone call all but forgotten as she watches Harry walk into the gas station.

…

“We should go out tonight.”

Y/N sets her duffel bag on the queen-sized bed situated in the center of the motel room, giving Harry a confused look as she registers his words. “Go out?” She asks, tugging on the zipper of the bag. “Go out where?”

“To a bar.” Harry flops down on the bed next to her bag, leaning back on his elbows as he speaks. “All we’ve done this entire trip is drive, and we’re getting to the Catskills tomorrow. We can have a bit of fun tonight, can’t we?”

Y/N snorts as she rifles through her bag, pulling out her phone charger and favourite book. “It’s a road trip; driving is the point, isn’t it? Besides, what kind of bars are in Cleveland, Ohio?”

Harry shrugs lightly. “We passed a sign for one on our way into town. And we haven’t had dinner yet, so we should go get something to eat anyways. And I haven’t had a pint in forever.”

“I doubt you’ll like the pints from a dive bar in Cleveland, Harry.” Y/N rolls her eyes as she plugs her charger into the wall. “I don’t think they’ll be up to your standards.”

“That’s for me to decide, isn’t it?” Harry matches her eye roll with ease before turning his expression into something more endearing. “Please? We don’t have to stay too long if you don’t want to!”

Y/N sighs as she sits down on the bed next to him. “Harry—”

“Just one drink!” Harry pleads, pouting out his bottom lip. “Please? To celebrate not killing each other on this trip?”

In spite of herself, a small laugh falls from Y/N’s mouth. “The trip’s not over yet, Harry. Don’t count your eggs before they hatch.”

“Y/N…” Harry whines, turning onto his side as he looks up at her. “Come on!”

Y/N tugs her lip between her teeth as she looks down at Harry. It’s true, she thinks, that all they’ve done for the last five days is drive and sleep in motels. Maybe they could use a break before tomorrow’s final day. And they’ve been getting along so well today that Y/N would hate to put a damper on their moods now…

“Fine.” She relents, ignoring how there’s a turning feeling in her stomach when she sees Harry’s green eyes light up. “But just one drink!”

…

“I’ll take another Old Fashioned, please!” Y/N says to the waitress, raising her voice to be heard over the man singing a bad cover of “Take on Me” on the small bar stage. “And—Harry, do you want another?”

Harry bites back a laugh, barely managing to cover it with a cough as the waitress turns to him. “Uh, yes, please.” He smiles charmingly, flashing his eyes to Y/N between his words. “I’ll have another pint.”

With a quick nod, the waitress begins to work her way from their table to the bar, pushing through the crowds of people scattered around the bar.

Y/N leans over to Harry as she twirls her straw through the remnants of ice in her empty glass. “You picked a good bar!” She says loudly, gesturing to the people around them. “Who knew this would be the center of Cleveland’s drinking scene?”

“I did! I have good taste!” Harry replies with a laugh, lifting his pint glass to his lips to drain the remnants. “And here I was, thinking that you’d be whining to go home after the first drink!”

There’s something about the way Harry says “home” that turns Y/N’s stomach. Or maybe it’s the Old Fashioneds, she thinks, as she eyes the three empty glasses sitting in front of her. “Oh. Yeah. Maybe we should go…?”

Harry groans, waving off her suggestion without a second thought. “No! We’re having fun! When was the last time you went out?”

“Uh…” The alcohol makes it hard for Y/N to think back in her memory, but she does her best to focus for a few moments to search for the answer. “I think…a few months ago? Jo came to visit, and we went out for drinks…”

“That’s just sad.” Harry shakes his head, feigning disappointment. Or maybe not feigning it, Y/N thinks, because a deep sigh leaves his lips right after. “You live in L.A., a place with so much culture and so many opportunities, and you don’t take them!”

“I take opportunities just fine!” Y/N defends herself, a pout working its way onto her lips of its own volition. “I’m just busy—”

“You’re always going to be busy!” Harry argues as the waitress approaches them with their drinks. “You—thank you—” He says to her as she hands him his pint and Y/N her Old Fashioned. “You have to take time for yourself, to enjoy things! Or else life is just going to pass you by, and soon you’ll be old and grey in your apartment, with no cool stories to tell!”

Y/N takes the straw from her previous drink and slips it in her new one. “I have stories!” She argues hotly, a flush coming over her face from both the alcohol and the argument. “I have plenty of stories!”

Harry takes a gulp from his pint, wiping away the drop of beer that drips from the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah? Tell me one.”

“Like—” Y/N takes a long sip of her drink. “Like now! The story of how I had to go on a road trip with a guy I hated to make it to my best friend’s wedding on time!”

“I’m not really a fan of that title, honestly.” Harry purses his lips, his brow furrowing as he sets his pint back down on the table. “How about we call it the story of how you had to go on a road trip with a guy you hated to make it to your best friend’s wedding on time, and along the way, you and the guy actually realized that you got along pretty well, and became friends?”

A small smile plays on Y/N’s lips, and she raises her glass towards Harry. “Sounds like a plan.” She says softly, barely audible over the noise of the crowd. Harry lifts his pint glass and clicks it against her drink.

They both take a sip of their drinks, and when Harry lowers his glass, there’s a mischievous glint in his eye that immediately makes Y/N uneasy. “I have another idea for a story.” He says, setting his glass down and pointing towards the stage. “How about the story of us singing karaoke at a bar in Cleveland, Ohio?”

Y/N snorts, half folding herself over their table as the snort turns into a full laugh. “Not a chance in hell, Styles!” She says through her laughter, tapping her fingers against the wood table top.

Harry pushes her shoulder, making her sit up again as he tries to convince her. “Come on! We’ve been singing in the car for two days straight! There’s tons of songs we could do—”

“The car is completely different than a stage!” Y/N argues, shaking her head firmly. “No way!”

“What, are you worried about making a fool of yourself?” Harry raises an eyebrow as he gestures around the bar. “Is there anyone you know in the audience? The audience that’s full of people who are pissed out of their minds?”

Biting her lip hard for a moment, Y/N gives a reluctant shake of her head. “No.” She mumbles, looking down. “But I just—I don’t sing karaoke.”

“And you didn’t spend five days in the car with me, either. Until you did, and we had fun.” Harry points a ringed pointer finger at her, and the annoying glint in his eye means he knows he has her trapped. “There is literally no better place to try it than right now, in this bar, where you know no one.”

Y/N glances around the bar, appraising her surroundings. She knows Harry has a point; besides himself, she knows not a single soul in the building. They’ll be leaving tomorrow morning, and she won’t ever find herself in this bar—or, honestly, Cleveland, Ohio—again. If there was ever a time to try karaoke, it would be now.

And hasn’t this trip been full of trying new things? New foods, new conversations, new ways of thinking…Y/N finds herself locking eyes with Harry, losing herself in his intense gaze. Y/N’s not sure what’s swirling around in his irises, whether it’s alcohol or something else entirely, but it’s intoxicating.

Y/N lets out a harsh exhale, pulling the straw out of her drink and downing it entirely in one swift motion. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand as she slams the glass back on the table before looking back at Harry to find a new grin pasted across his pink lips.

“Alright.” Y/N slips off her stool, stumbling for just a moment until Harry catches her elbow. “You go pick the song.” She says, pointing towards the DJ near the stage. “I-I’m going to run to the bathroom.”

Harry nods, catching his lip between his teeth as his hand squeezes her arm. “Are you alright? You stumbled there—”

“I’m fine! Perfect, actually.” Y/N assures him, pulling away and walking towards the washroom. She calls over her shoulder to him as she does. “Go pick the song! I’ll be back in a moment!”

When Y/N reaches the washroom, she’s surprised to find it empty, and she’s even more surprised when she catches her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Is that really her? She wonders, propping herself up on the counter as she leans closer to examine herself. Her skin is flushed from the alcohol, all across her cheeks and neck, and it only gets warmer as the heat of the bar finally hits her. Y/N undoes the top few buttons of her plaid shirt, exposing her chest to the air. Cocking her head to the side, Y/N studies herself for a moment before undoing the rest of the buttons and rolling up the sleeves to wear the shirt like a cardigan, leaving her bralette exposed. It’s a different look than anything she’s ever done, but…she likes it, she realizes, as her eyes scan over her reflection. She likes this. Being somewhere that no one knows her, somewhere filled with people that won’t judge her for drinking too much, somewhere that she doesn’t have to worry about stories getting back to her work. Y/N likes the wild look in her eyes, the breathlessness stirring inside her, the plumpness of her lips from the ice of her drinks. When she looks at herself, she sees a different person. Someone she doesn’t recognize. Someone who seems to know what they want.

Her phone vibrating in her back pocket pulls her from her thoughts, and it takes Y/N a moment for her intoxicated self to manage to pull it out. When she sees Brant’s name flashing on the screen, she only hesitates for one second before hitting decline. That one second of hesitation, however, is all it takes to make her contemplate herself in the mirror again, second guessing what she sees. She tucks her phone away before washing her hands, and splashes a little bit of cold water on her cheeks to help cool herself down. Giving herself one last look over, Y/N buttons the few bottom buttons of her shirt back together, tying it into a neat knot to cover her stomach. Even if no one here knows her…she can’t get too wild. She still has to be who she is.

After exiting the bathroom, Y/N returns to the table, expecting Harry to be waiting there for her. All she finds, however, is his jacket tossed over the back of his chair, and his now empty pint glass sitting on the table. Y/N turns in a small circle, wondering where he is in the crowd when she hears his slightly slurred voice magnified over the speakers.

“Y/N. Up here, love, c’mon.”

Y/N turns towards the stage, her eyes wide as she realizes Harry has a microphone in one hand and has the other hand wrapped around the microphone stand. His smile is practically glowing underneath the stage lights, and his eyes seem to be doing the same. He releases the mic stand to run a hand through his hair before beckoning her forward.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Cleveland, this—” Harry points towards Y/N, and she almost swears that every person in the bar turns towards her. “This is my very good friend Y/N. And five days ago, she hated my guts!” The crowd boos, and Y/N stares at Harry with incredulous eyes. What is he doing?

“No, no, don’t boo, it’s alright. I hated her guts too.” Harry says with a shrug, leaning against the mic stand again. “But everything’s alright now! We’re getting along, she’s stopped being such a control freak, and she even said she would let me pick a song for us to sing tonight, isn’t that nice?”

The crowd cheers as Y/N walks towards the stage, stopping just before it to stare up at Harry as he continues his drunken monologue. If she was sober, she’d probably pull him down from the stage, grab the front of his patterned button down shirt, and drag him back to their table. But the alcohol running through her system is making her bold, and with her head swimming in the amber liquid she’d been consuming, all she can do is laugh and stumble her way to the stairs to the stage.

Someone wearing a t-shirt with the bar’s logo on it helps her up the stairs, handing her a microphone once she makes it onto the stage. Harry, realizing she’s where she needs to be now, motions to the DJ behind her, and a familiar beat that Y/N can’t place begins to play.

“Harry—” Y/N speaks without raising the microphone to her lips. “What song—?”

“Don’t worry, you know it.” Harry assures her, his eyes flickering over her appearance quickly. “You look great. Just go with it!”

There’s really no choice but to go with it, she thinks, because within a moment, Harry has a simpering smile on his face as he lifts the microphone to his lips, his body turned towards the audience but his eyes flickering to you.

“‘I wasn’t jealous before we met…now every man I see is a potential threat’.” He sings in a confident voice, and Y/N watches the split second it takes for the crowd to realize he’s actually good. And it’s not just his voice, she thinks. It’s his demeanor. The part of Harry’s personality that had first irritated her, the part that lives for a spotlight, the part that can draw someone in with a snap of a finger…that part shines on a stage.

In contrast, all Y/N can do is stare with a shocked expression painted across her face as Harry continues to serenade the crowd. He makes eye contact with specific people as he croons the next lines, his hand confidently wrapped around the microphone “‘And I’m possessive, it isn’t nice…you’ve heard me say that smoking is my only voice’.”

It’s then that Harry’s attention turns back to Y/N, his eyelids hooded, half hiding his emerald eyes as he saunters back towards her. It’s like a switch has flipped in his head, because Y/N is certain that he’s never looked at her in this way before. “‘But now it isn’t true…now everything is new’…” The closer Harry gets to her, the less Y/N can breathe. By the time he’s a foot away from her, she feels like her breaths are stuttering in her chest, giving barely enough oxygen to her body to keep her going.

Harry, it seems, is unaware of the affect he’s having on her. His long limbs are loose and free as he continues to move closer, the smirk on his face intertwined with something deeper that Y/N’s drunken mind can’t quite put her finger on. “‘And all I’ve learned, has overturned…I beg of you’…”

The scent of cologne, alcohol, and sweat that emanates from Harry as he gets close enough to press his forehead to hers reminds Y/N exactly where she is, and what she’s supposed to be doing. Just managing to bring the microphone to her lips in time, Y/N shoves Harry on his shoulder, pushing him away enough that she can walk past him and distance herself. “‘Don’t go wasting your emotion’…” She sings, glancing at him over her shoulder as she moves away. Harry watches her with darkened eyes, a hungry look on his face as Y/N begins to sway her hips to the music. It’s fun, she realizes, being on stage like this, and playing the part with Harry as she sets down a challenge. “‘Lay all your love on me’.”

The crowd cheers as Harry begins to take measured steps towards Y/N again, looking like the cat who wants to catch the canary. Y/N, ever the competitive player, refuses to give in so easily, and quickly extends a hand to two people sitting in front of the stage. They give her support as she slides down from the platform, working her way through the tables without so much as a glance behind herself at Harry, who she knows is following her.

“‘It was like shooting a sitting duck…a little small talk, a smile and baby I was stuck’.” Y/N finally turns around, pausing her walk to see Harry hopping down from the stage. She points at him slowly, giving a small shake of her head as she sings the next line. “‘I still don’t know what you’ve done to me…a grownup woman should never fall so easily’…”

Harry’s smirk only grows, and he runs a hand haphazardly through his sweaty curls. He’s enjoying playing the part too, and Y/N can tell by the way he allows her to cross the seating area, so that they’re walking parallel to each other towards the bar. He’s not chasing her down. He’s taking his time, knowing that he’ll get her in the end.

“‘I feel a kind of fear…when I don’t have you near’…” Y/N pauses at a table of two men and a woman, leaning down between the latter two. She only takes her eyes off Harry for a moment to give a questioning look to the man, who gives her a smile of permission. Y/N runs her fingers across his shoulder and down his arm, but keeps her eyes glued to Harry the entire time. “‘Unsatisfied, I skip my pride…I beg you dear’…”

When he sees Y/N’s fingers trace down the collar of someone else, Harry’s brow furrows in jealousy, his jade eyes shifting even darker than they were before. He keeps pace with Y/N as she begins to move again, but there’s an air of tension in his saunter that wasn’t there a moment ago. When he sings, it sounds like half plea, half demand. “‘Don’t go wasting your emotion…lay all your love on me’.” Harry rounds a table of people before beginning to close the distance between him and Y/N, each of them now standing in front of the bar. With the tension between them now palpable, the crowd is moving out of their way discreetly, watching as the two approach each other. Harry licks his red lips before singing the next line. “‘Don’t go sharing your devotion…lay all your love on me’.”

Y/N releases her bottom lip from between her teeth, running her fingers over the finished wood of the bar before pulling herself to sit atop it. She crosses her legs carefully before leaning her weight on one hand, giving a small shrug, knowing that Harry’s eyes are glued to her every motion as the bartender pours him a shot. “‘I’ve had a few little love affairs…they didn’t last very long and they’ve been pretty scarce’…”

Harry’s lips wrap around the shot glass, throwing it back just in time to sing the next line as tequila drips from the corner of his mouth. The drop of alcohol runs down his chin to trace the muscles of his neck, and as Harry pulls himself to sit next to Y/N on the bar, the only thing she wants to do is lean forward and lick the liquor from his skin.

“‘I used to think I was sensible’…” Harry passes a newly poured shot to Y/N, meaning for her to take it from him, and he nearly stutters over his next line as Y/N wraps her hand around his own, guiding him to guide the shot to her mouth. There’s a sharp intake of air into the microphone before Harry can sing again, and Y/N smirks at the small victory as she wipes her mouth doing her best to hide how the bitter taste of the tequila affects her. “‘It makes the truth even more incomprehensible’.”

Y/N brings her microphone to her mouth again to sing the next verse with Harry, their eyes locked together as they lean forward into each other. Despite the cheering of the crowd, Y/N can’t help but feel as though she and Harry are the only two in the bar, as if this—very public—performance were small and intimate and just between them.

“‘Because everything is new’…” Harry grips the knot in Y/N’s plaid shirt, easily pulling it undone with one hand. His eyes break away from hers for only a moment to canvas over her newly exposed midriff and lace bralette before snapping back to her gaze with a renewed vigor. He keeps the tails of the shirt clutched within his strong hand as he begins to lean back on the bar, pulling Y/N down with him.

“‘And everything is you’…” Y/N almost falls over before she catches herself, bracing one hand beside Harry’s head on the bar to support her weight as he lays down fully. She can feel how tightly he’s gripping her shirt by how the hem of it is pressing into her skin, and the pressure of the fabric cues another kind of pressure to begin to curl inside her stomach. When she sucks in a breath, she can taste tequila and Harry’s cologne on her tongue, and she struggles to bite back a whine while Harry wraps her shirt tighter around his hand.

“‘And all I’ve learned has overturned’…” Harry releases the wrinkled fabric of her shirt, his now freed hand trading the cloth for the skin of her exposed waist. The coolness of his rings against her flushed skin makes Y/N’s breath stutter, and she curls her body over him more in response. The taste of Harry’s touch has sparked a need to be closer, as well as a new fluttering in her core, and judging by the way Harry keeps licking his lips, he knows it.

Refusing to be the only one affected by their close proximity, Y/N moves her supporting hand from the bar to Harry’s hair, tugging on it harshly as Harry opens his mouth to sing the next line. As Y/N sings “‘I beg of you’…” with a pleading glance, Harry grunts deep in his throat, just managing to pull the microphone away from his lips so that Y/N is the only one to hear it.

Although getting a reaction out of Harry was her goal, actually hearing that reaction is another story entirely. Heat rushes to Y/N’s face as Harry grips her waist tighter, pressing her thighs and hips to his own as he guides the two of them to the beat of the music. The cheering and wolf whistles from the crowd are the only thing that keep Y/N grounded and in the moment, reminding her that—despite how it feels—there are people watching the two of them.

“‘Don’t go wasting your emotion…lay all your love on me’.” Harry grinds his hip against Y/N’s once more, moving them in a steady and consistent pace. Y/N repositions her body in return, spreading her legs so she can straddle Harry’s hips more easily. She knows, though, that she needs to start pulling back. She has to do something to get away from him, to break the trance that his touch has her in, before she does something she’ll regret.

“‘Don’t go sharing your devotion’…” Y/N slowly sits back up, letting go of Harry’s hair in order to trail her free hand down his chest. Although she knows that she’s supposed to be distancing herself from him, she can’t resist digging her nails in just the slightest bit, delighting in the hiss that leaves his mouth. “‘Lay all your love on me’…”

Harry sits up slowly as the key changes, his eyes glued to Y/N’s lips as she sings a line by herself, her voice growing ever so slightly fainter every time Harry tugs on his red lips with his teeth, soothing the mark with his tongue a moment after. “‘Don’t go wasting your emotion…lay all your love on me’…”

Now that they’re both sitting upright, Harry grips their bodies and turns them so that their legs once again dangle off the bar. Y/N can feel the blood rushing from her head as she drapes her arm over Harry’s shoulder, her eyelids fluttering as Harry digs his fingertips into her waist. “‘Don’t go sharing your devotion’…” Harry’s pupils are so blown that his irises practically look black. His chest is heaving with every breath, his exposed skin flushed and sweaty. His curls are a mess from Y/N tangling her fingers in them. If Y/N didn’t know any better, she’d say Harry looks freshly fucked, and then she wonders if she looks the same. By the way Harry’s looking at her, she thinks it’s safe to say that she does.

“‘Lay all your love on me’.” They finish together, hungry eyes locked with each other while the wolf whistles and clapping gets louder as the final notes of the song trail off. This is where they should break apart, Y/N thinks, her chest moving rapidly with every ragged breath she takes. This is where she should climb off Harry’s lap, climb down from the bar, return the microphones to the DJ, and gather her things and go. This is the end of whatever the hell just happened during that song. This is where she says “Harry, we have to be up early tomorrow to drive, so we should go back to the motel.”

To her credit, Y/N tries. She swallows hard, her mouth as dry as it’s ever been, and sucks in another breath, almost whimpering at the taste of his cologne in the back of her throat. Don’t, she tells herself. She needs to say what she needs to say. Their game is done. It’s over.

“Harry—” She begins, and that’s all she manages to say before Harry is kissing her.

Her body reacts before her mind does, but between the overwhelming sensations all around her and the copious amounts of liquor that her brain is swimming in, Y/N can only register every third movement. The microphone falling from her hand onto the bar as she tangles her fingers back in Harry’s curls, twisting and pulling and receiving the most delightful gasps from him in return. Harry’s teeth catching her bottom lip, just barely tugging on the tender flesh. Ringed hands keeping a firm grip on Y/N’s sides as Harry helps her down from the bar, his lips still pressed firmly against her own. The lingering taste of tequila on Harry’s skin as Y/N kisses down his jaw, unable to completely pull away as Harry struggles to settle their tab with the bartender.

She’s never felt like this before; Y/N didn’t even know it could feel like this. She didn’t know that she could feel an ache so deep inside her, both painful and pleasurable at the same time, and be so completely aware that the only cure for it is the touch of another person. Y/N had been convinced that this rush was something that was fiction, made up by steamy romance novels to entice lonely housewives to dive beneath their pages. And yet here she is, stumbling out of a bar in Cleveland, Ohio, with Harry Styles, someone that she swore up and down that she hated five days ago. Here she is with Harry’s jacket draped over her heated shoulders, his hands slipped underneath, rubbing at her exposed skin as he guides her back to the motel. Here she is with his lips connected to her neck the moment their motel room door is closed, his fingers fumbling with the locks on the door as he refuses to pull away from her.

Yes, Y/N thinks, as she grinds her hips against Harry’s, relishing in the strangled moan that he breathes into her mouth: it’s never felt like this.

“Y/N—” Each pant of her name from his lips sounds like a song. “Fuck, Y/N—” Harry pulls back from her just enough to suck in a full breath, the first in what feels like hours. “I—we—”

“Shut up.” Y/N uses her grip on his hair to pull his head back, trailing open mouthed kisses over his jugular. “Just shut up, Harry, I need—I just need—”

“Need what?” Harry demands, eyes dark as he pushes himself away from her. An involuntary whine at the loss of contact escapes from Y/N’s throat, and Harry has to steel himself again before he can continue. “What do you need?” He asks, struggling to keep his voice controlled. “You—you have to tell me, so that—I need you to be clear.”

Y/N licks over her swollen lips, eyes blown wide with lust as she stares up at Harry, struggling to find the words. “I need…” She swallows once more, inhaling sharply as he grips her shoulders to steady her. “I need you, Harry. Just fuck me. I-I need you to—”

Before she can finish her request, Harry has scooped her up into his arms, tossing her on the creaking motel bed as if she were a rag doll. A gasp of shock leaves Y/N’s mouth, and she’s barely managed to sit up before Harry is caging his body over hers, forcing her back down as he kisses her hard.

Y/N’s hands go straight to the hem of his shirt, tugging roughly on the fabric, shoving it up Harry’s body before he gets the clue to half sit up and pull it off himself. After that, it’s a rush to remove clothes, each of them blindly pulling off shirts and bras and pants. Everything is rushed, and that’s what Y/N wants. She doesn’t want time to lay down and explore, and allow herself space to second guess her decision. All she wants is Harry to do something about the ache in her core, to fill her up so completely that she’ll be feeling him for days. It’s that need that makes Y/N tug on his hair to get his attention as he begins to kiss her thighs.

“No.” She shakes her head haphazardly, and the room spins slightly when she finishes the motion. “No, I just—I just need you to fuck me. I’m ready, Harry—”

“But—” His teeth tug roughly on his bottom lip, mimicking Y/N’s actions from moments ago. “I want to taste—”

“Please, Harry.” Y/N whines, throwing her head back on the motel pillow. “It’s been so long since I’ve been full…please…”

The lewd admission catches Harry off guard. “Fucking hell—” He spits out, his hands tugging on his hair as he sits up. “Yeah, I—okay.” He closes his eyes for a moment to steady himself, the struggle to have a coherent thought clear on his face. “Okay, I need…”

Harry’s eyes begin to search the room, and the moment they settle on his bag in the corner, he rushes towards it. Y/N watches the muscles in his back shift beneath his smooth skin as he unzips the bag, rummaging through it before pulling out a tiny foil square. He tucks the package between his teeth as his hands fumble with his belt, undoing it quickly and pulling it off to toss to the floor. He undoes his button and fly as he climbs back onto the bed, doing his best to waste no time as he situates himself between Y/N’s still spread legs.

“Y’look so hot like this, y’know that?” He can’t stop himself from muttering the words as he pulls his pants down just enough to free his cock. Y/N stares hungrily at how swollen he is, only half listening to Harry’s words as she watches his hand stroke himself, the other lifting the condom package to his teeth. He tears the foil open, spitting the little tag from his mouth as he removes the condom from the foil. That foil is soon tossed to the ground before Harry gives himself one last stroke, quickly but carefully rolling the condom down the length of his shaft.

Placing his hands on either knee, Harry spreads Y/N’s legs even wider, his eyes greedily taking in the sight of her bare core. “You’re dripping.” Harry says in a low voice, and before Y/N can reply with anything, he runs a ringed finger over her folds and slips it into his mouth.

“Ah—!” Y/N gasps at the unexpected sensation, the minimal contact enough to send her reeling. Harry grins at the response, loving how the pleasure from the small action is clearly written across her face.

“Sorry.” He says with a small shrug, lining himself up with her entrance. “Just wanted a little taste, tha’s all. Couldn’t resist.” Harry drags the tip of his cock along Y/N’s slick core, a look of concentration overtaking his features. “I’ll go slow—”

A sound of protest leaves Y/N’s mouth. “No. Go fast. I need it, Harry, please—” Her plea is cut off by Harry thrusting inside her with one sharp movement, and then Y/N stops talking completely.

There’s a slight feeling of pain, as she wasn’t lying when she said it’s been a while since she’s been with someone, but underneath that pain, pleasure is quickly building as Harry begins to snap his hips towards hers, finding a rhythm within a few thrusts. Y/N knows immediately that Harry is probably one of the largest men—if not the largest man—she’s ever been with, but that’s exactly what she needs right now. The moment he filled her for the first time, there was a feeling of completeness that she’s been missing in her life for a long time. She needed this, she thinks. She needed to be stretched, to be filled, to be fucked, and Harry is the only one that could have fulfilled those needs this well. She’s convinced of it.

It’s far from the most romantic sex Y/N’s ever had; it’s all teeth clacking, biting, scratching, tugging, and growling. And she knows that she should be concerned about how Harry’s teeth biting down on her shoulder is going to leave marks, especially when she has to wear a bridesmaid dress in less than 48 hours. But all of that is exactly what she needs. She doesn’t want Harry to whisper how much he loves her, how close he feels to her, how happy he is to be with her. She doesn’t want to hear him say anything, except—

“Feel so fucking good around my cock.” He growls, his fingertips digging deeper into the flesh of her hips. “So bloody tight, Y/N…”

A sharp gasp tumbles out of Y/N’s throat as Harry swivels his hips, finding the exact spot she needs him the most. “Oh God, Harry, I—” Y/N scratches her nails down his back, surely leaving a trail of angry red marks in her place, as her other hand twists the sheets within her grip. “Fuck, right there, right there, right there—”

“Feels good, yeah? You like it?” Harry manages to bring a hand to her hair, tangling it within her locks and pulling hard. “Tell me.” His voice is so much lower than she’s ever heard it, his accent so much thicker, and the combination sends Y/N’s eyes rolling into the back of her head. “Tell me how much you love my cock, and—fuck—how much you love me fucking you.”

Y/N’s mouth falls open, a strangled whine echoing from the back of her throat as the head of Harry’s cock presses against her G-spot again. “I-I love it, Harry, I—your cock fills me so well—don’t stop, please don’t stop—!”

Using her moans as fuel, Harry begins to thrust faster, tugging on Y/N’s hair one last time before grasping her hips between his hands to gain more control. If his flushed skin and the sweat covering his entire body is any indication, Y/N can tell that Harry is just as close as she is. Her breathing quickens just as the sound of the bed creaking does, and she brings one hand down to her clit to rub fast circles, desperate to reach her release.

“Harry—” She gasps for what seems the millionth time that night, her body shuddering as she pushes closer and closer to the edge. “I’m so fucking close, Harry, please—”

The growl that falls from Harry’s mouth almost doesn’t sound like him. It’s deeper, more animalistic, and so unlike the careful and slow voice that she’s gotten used to over the last five days. Releasing one hand from her hip, he pushes her hand out of the way, replacing her fingers with his own to rub circles over her clit. “Cum for me, Y/N. I know you need it, baby, so just—” Harry groans as her walls squeeze his length. “Just cum.”

The command combined with his motions is all it takes to push Y/N over the edge. A breathless gasp falls from her open mouth, and she screws her eyes shut as pleasure courses through her body. It’s so much more intense than anything she’s felt before, so much more pleasurable, so much more dizzying, and just so much more. Small whimpers and Harry’s name are the only things she can think to say as her orgasm makes her movements stutter before falling limply back onto the bed.

“Fuck—” Harry moans roughly as he kisses her one more time, his mouth falling open against hers as her orgasm triggers his own. Although the rhythm of his thrusts stutters, they don’t completely stop, and he continues to slam his hips against her own as he rides out his orgasm. “That’s it, baby—squeeze me tight—” Harry pants into Y/N’s mouth, barely registering anything he’s saying, let alone the pet name that’s begun to fall from his lips. “Christ…”

Things become a blur after that. After Harry pulls out, all Y/N can focus on is how empty she feels without his thick cock filling her to the brim, and she doesn’t even realize that he’s gotten off the bed until he returns, his weight causing the whole bed frame to creak once more. With both of them so sweaty, Harry only pulls the top sheet over their panting bodies, pressing his head into the crook of Y/N’s neck as his eyes close.

Neither of them says anything, and for multiple reasons. What exactly is there to say? And, more pressing, what exactly is Y/N capable of saying right now? There are no words running through her mind. All she can do is think in terms of physical contact and needs, and those two things tell her everything she knows in this moment. She knows that Harry is in just his boxers now because she can’t feel the rough fabric of his pants against her bare skin. She knows that she needs his hands on her, cupping her breasts the way he is. She knows that if he were to move away from her, she’d go chasing after him. She knows that she’s completely worn out—completely fucked out, really—and above all else, she knows that whatever needs to be discussed between them can be discussed the next morning.

Harry, however, seems to have a different approach. His face still pressed into her neck, he mumbles something against her sweat soaked skin, low and deep and completely inaudible. Y/N feels an open mouthed kiss pressed to her neck, and then hears another mumble, this one even quieter than the last.

“Hm?” Y/N barely manages to hum the syllable in her exhaustion.

There’s no response, no repeat of the quiet phrases, and it takes Y/N a few minutes of feeling Harry’s breathing even out to realize that he’s fallen asleep. If she were sober and had the mental capacity to examine things, Y/N would wonder what it was that Harry whispered into her skin. But her brain is swimming in exhaustion and endorphins and tequila, and the only thing she can do is close her eyes and allow her breathing to sync up with the rise and fall of Harry’s chest.

…

The first thing Y/N registers the next morning is the shrill ringing of her cell phone, which somehow made its way to the bedside table in her drunken fervour the night before. The second thing she registers is the pounding of her head, like she can feel each pump of blood to her brain, and the uncomfortably dry feeling in her mouth, as if it’s been stuffed full of cotton. The third thing Y/N registers is—

“Christ.” Harry groans into her neck, his voice raspy from sleep and laced with irritation. “God, who is calling right now?”

Right. The third thing she registers, probably the most complicated of all, Y/N thinks, is just how much of Harry’s taut and tattooed bare skin is pressed against her own. His strong arms are thrown over her waist, clutching her tight to his chest. In the back of her mind, she’s vaguely aware of the chain of Harry’s cross pressing into her breast, probably leaving a small red indentation along with the other marks he left on her last night.

Last night.

Y/N lets out a small whine as the previous evening comes rushing back to her. It’s a blur of alcohol, ABBA, and Harry. Harry is everywhere, in every blurred picture her hungover brain can conjure. Laughing at her from across the table. Smirking at her on stage. Staring at her with a hungry look in his eyes as he pulled her down on top of him on the bar, grinding his hips into hers. Kissing her. Kissing her multiple times. Coming back to their room with his hands leaving scorching imprints over every inch of her. And now, him laying next to her, clutching the two of them together like they’ve always done this. Like it’s natural.

The phone rings again, louder than the last time, and Harry curses under his breath, the short exhale of air leaving goosebumps along Y/N’s neck. He lifts his head just barely as he reaches across Y/N’s body, grabbing her phone from the bedside table and not bothering to check the caller ID as he answers.

“Hello?” He says, the rasp of sleep still clear his voice. Within three seconds, Harry’s entire body tenses against Y/N, his arm constricting around her waist enough to shift her on the bed.

Y/N lifts her head up when she feels the change, finally opening her eyes just enough to read the change in Harry’s body language. What she finds are dark and stormy green eyes, a swollen red mouth pressed into a thin line, and a deep crease between his furrowed brow, all of it such a contrast from the hazy memories of him the night before.

“I—yeah, she’s right here.” Harry mutters, his eyes snapping to Y/N’s face for just a moment. “I’ll—oh. Yeah, no, the trip’s been…good. Yeah. Not too much traffic.” His arm moves off her waist as he pulls away from her, rolling onto his back as the bed creaks beneath them. With his newly freed hand, Harry covers his eyes, rubbing them for a moment as the irritation on his face grows. “Yeah, it was nice of me to give her a ride. Yeah.” He sucks in a breath. “Well, she’s—she’s awake now. Here. I’ll let you two talk.”

Y/N props herself up on one elbow, careful to keep the sheet pressed to her chest so that she’s not exposed. She knows that Harry’s already seen everything, touched everything, and kissed everything, but the sudden change in his demeanor is telling her that she needs to be guarded, even if she has no idea what caused it.

Harry holds out her phone for her, his face stony as Y/N slowly accepts it. “Harry—?” She begins, but he just gives a rough jerk of his head, and offers no other explanation.

Eyes still glued to Harry’s face, Y/N brings the phone to her ear, clearing the sleep from her voice. “Hello?”

“Hi.” The familiar cadence of Brant’s voice crackles through the phone speaker, an indication of how far away he is from her. “It’s good to finally hear your voice; I haven’t been able to catch you the last few days.”

Y/N keeps her eyes on Harry as her body goes cold, pressing the sheet tighter to her chest. “Brant.” She whispers his name unintentionally; her body won’t allow her to say it any louder. “Hi.”

At the sound of Brant’s voice leaving her lips, Harry throws the covers off of himself, jerkily pulling himself off of the low motel room bed. He snatches his jeans off the floor, and doesn’t give Y/N another glance as he walks to the small bathroom, slamming the door behind himself.

“Hi.” Brant says again, completely unaware of what’s happening on the other end of the telephone line. “I’ve missed you. Where are you now?”

“Uh, Cleveland.” Y/N says weakly, stumbling her way out of the bed to her duffel bag. She grabs a new bra and t-shirt, along with her comfiest pair of pants. Without Harry beside her, she’s freezing. “Today’s our last day of driving.”

“Oh, well, that’s good.” Brant replies easily. “The wedding is tomorrow, then?”

“Mhmm.” Y/N’s eyes flicker to the bathroom as the sound of the shower starting travels through the wood of the door. “And tonight is the rehearsal dinner.”

Brant makes a sound of acknowledgement on the other end of the phone. “That’ll be nice! Do you know if you’re flying back?”

“Uh—” Y/N pauses her movements, her pants half pulled up her legs. That, honestly, is a good question, and one which seems as though the answer is changing with every passing moment. “I guess I’ll call the airline and…see if I can fly back. Maybe the storms will have passed.”

“You must have driven through them, right? In Utah, or wherever they were?” Brant asks curiously. “Did they seem that bad? Honestly, I’ve always found thunder to be relaxing. I think most people do.”

Y/N tugs her t-shirt over her head with one hand, accidentally bumping her chin as she does so. The motion causes her to bite down on her tongue, and she lets out a curse under her breath, not even bothering to correct Brant. It doesn’t matter, she thinks. He probably wouldn’t remember. “Yeah. Relaxing.”

The sound of the shower turning off catches her attention, distracting her from what Brant says next. “I—sorry—” She mutters in a distracted tone, raking her fingers through her sleep and sex mussed hair. “What was that?”

“I said let me know when you’re on your way back from New York, so I’ll make us a dinner reservation.” Brant repeats himself without suspicion of Y/N’s distracted tone. “We just got some new files at work that I think you’ll be very interested in.”

The bathroom door creaks open, and Harry emerges from the cloud of shower steam. He’s dressed in just his pants, his marked chest still damp from the shower. Although he catches Y/N’s eye for a moment, he quickly looks away, rubbing his towel through his wet curls as he turns to search for a shirt. The red marks of Y/N’s nails are prominent on his otherwise unmarked back.

“Dinner?” Y/N repeats slowly, chewing on her cuticle as she takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “Are you—you still want to get dinner?”

“Of course. I enjoy our weekly dinners, don’t you?” Brant asks, confusion finally slipping into his voice. “I’ve missed them.”

“I—” Y/N clears her throat, rubbing her thumb absentmindedly over her bottom lip. “Okay. Yeah. Dinner. I’ll, um, I’ll let you know when I book a flight home.”

“Sounds wonderful. Well, I’ll let you get on the road. Let me know when you’re available.” Brant’s voice already sounds more and more distant. “Goodbye.”

“Bye.” Y/N replies lamely, letting her phone drop to the crumpled bed sheets.

There’s a rustling behind her, the sound of a belt clicking, of the zipper on a duffel bag being pulled shut. Y/N waits for a moment, to give Harry the chance to say something to her, but nothing comes. Finally, she twists around on the bed, her nerves running on high.

Harry is completely dressed now, a black t-shirt covering his previously bare chest, and he’s tied his familiar green bandana into his damp chestnut locks. His sunglasses are hanging on the neck of his shirt, but even without them covering his emerald eyes, Y/N can’t decipher anything that’s swirling within them.

“That—that was Brant.” She says finally, scratching a nail over the palm of her hand.

Harry jerks his head in a nod as he shoulders his duffel bag. “Yeah. I heard.” Tapping his fingers against the leather strap, he finally spares a glance at Y/N. “He wants to take you to dinner, huh?”

Running her teeth along her bottom lip, Y/N takes a moment before she replies. “Harry, I—”

“I’ll be in the car.” He mutters, taking long strides to the door and unlocking it with a harsh turn of his hand. “Just hurry up, yeah? I want to get on the road soon, so we’re not late to the rehearsal dinner.”

When he slams the door behind him, Y/N breaks.

…

And just like that, it’s like they’re back at square one.

It really feels like the first day all over again, Y/N thinks, in every sense of the sentiment. From the way she and Harry sit in silence, each avoiding the other’s gaze, to how every single one of Harry’s movements is filled with a tight and tense irritation. Even the sound of Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” is familiar, echoing through the speakers of the car like a soundtrack to an old memory.

After four hours, the silence is finally getting to her. She can’t stop shifting in her seat, her muscles seizing from hours on end in the same position—although, frankly, her soreness may partially be a result of her and Harry’s activities from the night before—and with every short and hard breath Harry sighs, Y/N gets more and more antsy.

“Harry.” She says finally, risking a glance at him from the corner of her eye. He has one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the stick shift, both grips tight enough to stretch his skin over the bones of his knuckles until it goes white. At the sound of Y/N’s voice, his jaw flexes, but he shows no other evidence that he heard her.

A frustrated sigh falls past Y/N’s lips. “Harry.” She says again, firmer this time. “Are you going to ignore me all the way to the Catskills?”

Realizing that he can’t feign deafness, Harry lets his shoulders lift once and drop down again in a quick motion. “’M not ignoring you.” He mutters, keeping his eyes glued to the road.

“We’re not talking. At all.” Y/N taps her fingers against her knee, just slightly off the beat of the music. “Shouldn’t we talk about what happened?”

“Why?” Harry asks, his voice flatter than she’s ever heard it. “What’s there to talk about?”

Y/N twists her body in her seat, her seat belt nearly cutting into her throat with how quickly she moves. “What the hell do you mean, what’s there to talk about? There’s plenty! Last night—”

Harry cuts over her with a sharp tone, still refusing to look away from the road. “Last night we got drunk, and we made a mistake.” His grip tightens even more on the gear shift as he moves it to accelerate the car. “And it shouldn’t have happened.”

It takes a few moment for the words to register in her brain, and Y/N blinks slowly as the process unfolds. “You think it was a mistake?” She tries to ask the question as nonchalantly as possible.

“I do.” Harry nods tightly, and while Y/N thinks that she can detect something else underneath his tone, his dark sunglasses hide the truth of his thoughts from her. “We got caught up with trying to—to pretend we’re not who we are. But we know who we are.”

If Y/N’s brain couldn’t process Harry’s words a moment ago, it’s working in overdrive now as she draws a million different conclusions from the conversation. What the fuck does “we know who we are” mean? Wasn’t the whole point of this trip—the long lesson they’d learned together—that both of them were different than the other had thought? Hadn’t Harry proved to her, over and over, how he was so much more considerate and empathetic than she’d previously imagined? Hadn’t she shown him that she wasn’t the Ice Queen he thought she was, wasn’t as controlling, wasn’t as perfect? Hadn’t that been a good thing? Hadn’t they bonded at roadside fruit stands, small souvenir shacks, ghost town gas stations, and dingy motel rooms?

But maybe…maybe she had imagined all of that, because the way that Harry is actively avoiding her gaze is telling her that he isn’t thinking the same thing. Everything from his body language, to his tone of voice, to his attitude, is telling her that he’s just as stubborn and closed off as he was when they first met. He hasn’t changed. If he had, he wouldn’t be refusing to do something as simple as look at her.

Still, something about the interaction doesn’t sit right with Y/N. Although she turns to face the windshield again, she keeps Harry in the corner of her gaze. “Is this…” She swallows hard. “Does this have something to do with Brant calling?”

A harsh snort is all the response she gets. “Christ, no. Trust me, nothing that prick can do has that much of an affect on me.” Even from behind his sunglasses, Y/N can tell that Harry is rolling his eyes. “Although I suppose it is a reminder of where you belong.”

A flash of irritation rips up Y/N’s spine. “A reminder of what?” She repeats, eyes narrowing.

“You heard me, Y/N, don’t make me say it again.” Harry taps a finger to the song, perfectly on the beat. They’re out of sync, Y/N realizes. Had they ever been in sync?

No, she decides. They hadn’t. She’d just been fooling herself. Being in the car for five days with only Harry for company had deluded her, but soon she’d be with Jo, and a million other people, and when she’s not in stuck in Harry’s car, smelling Harry’s cologne, listening to Harry’s music, she’ll have a clear head. She’ll be able to think straight.

“Fine.” Y/N crosses her arms firmly over her chest, leaning her head against the cool glass of the passenger window. A sign welcoming them to the state of New York whizzes past. “I won’t make you say it again. You don’t have to say anything.”

…

“So? What do you think?”

Y/N steps over the threshold of the cozy cabin, analyzing every little detail of the room as quickly as she can. The interior seems to be one open concept room, cleverly split up with small architectural dividers. The living room and kitchen flowed into each other smoothly, with a kitchen island dividing the space. To the left of the living room is a small reading nook, holding a comfortable looking wicker swing chair and a half-size bookshelf that seems to be well stocked. Separating the reading nook from the rest of the cabin is the staircase, which Y/N presumes leads up to the master bedroom and bathroom that’s lofted above on the halved second floor. Between the wall of windows giving a beautiful view of the forest, the fire quietly cracking in the living room, and the potted plants scattered around the cabin, Y/N has to admit that she thinks she could live in this space for the rest of her life.

“It’s beautiful, Jo.” She finally replies, setting down her suitcase and duffel bag as she continues to look around. She walks to the living room first, brushing her fingers over the cable knit blanket that’s draped over the back of the comfortable looking couch. “Is this for you and Laure?”

“Nope. It’s for me and you.” Jo replies, walking to the kitchen and opening the fridge. She pulls out a bottle of rosé, motioning over her shoulder to the cupboard. “Grab a couple wine glasses, would you?”

Y/N crosses to the kitchen, searching through the cupboards until she finds the glasses. Setting them down on the island, she gives Jo a confused look. “Me and you?”

Jo gives her a familiar grin as she uncorks the wine, and the sight of it lights a warm fire in Y/N’s chest. It feels like home. “It’s tradition for the bride not to see the bride before the wedding, isn’t it? So after the rehearsal dinner, Laure and I will say goodbye until the ceremony tomorrow, and you and I—” She fills Y/N’s glass liberally. “Will have one last night of single girl fun. And then you can have the cabin to yourself tomorrow night, because I will be on my honeymoon, and, hopefully, getting laid.”

Y/N smiles back at her as she lifts her glass, clinking it against Jo’s. “Sounds like a plan.” After taking a long sip, Y/N leans her elbows on the counter, propping her head in her hands. “I can’t believe you’re getting married tomorrow. Married!”

“Yeah, well, that’s old news.” Jo waves her hand as she lowers her wine glass from her lips, her inquisitive eyes alight with mischief. “I’d rather know how the trip with Harry was. Are you two finally getting along? The last time I called, you actually sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”

Y/N pauses with her wine glass half lifted to her lips. Part of her wants to tell Jo everything, because she always tells Jo everything. It feels wrong to have a secret from her. But then again, she’s never had a reason to have a secret before. Right now, however…the last thing Jo and Laure need the night before their wedding—three hours before the rehearsal dinner—is to be stressed because the maid of honour and the best man had a drunken one night stand in Cleveland, Ohio.

“I wouldn’t say we’re getting along.” Y/N says diplomatically, taking a sip of wine between her words. “We’re…a bit better, I suppose. But we’re not that close.”

“Really?” When Jo raises an eyebrow, Y/N almost swears that she can detect a hint of disappointment in her voice. “But Harry said—”

“He said what?” Y/N asks quickly, the diplomatic tone disappearing immediately.

Jo tugs on her bottom lip as she gives a small shrug of her shoulders. “Nothing, I guess. I don’t know. I overheard him and Laure talking last night, but I couldn’t really make much of it out. It sounded like you two were at a bar.”

The new information makes Y/N pause. Harry had called Laure while they were at the bar last night. Harry had felt the need to call Laure while they were at the bar last night. What had been so urgent, so pressing, that he needed to speak to her right then and there?

“A bar, yeah.” Y/N finally replies after a moment. “It was alright. We just had a couple drinks to relax from being in the car.”

“Just drinks? That’s all? Nothing else?”

Y/N clears her throat, gulping down the rest of her wine before answering. “That’s it. Nothing else.”

…

“Here you go, Miss Bride.” Y/N grins at Jo as she tops off her mimosa, fixing the tie of her pink silk robe as she settles back down in her chair. “Something to relax you, yeah?”

Jo glances up at Y/N, her pen pausing over the page of her notebook. She’s careful when she moves her head, so as not to disturb the hairstylist that’s carefully curling her hair, but still manages to meet Y/N’s eye. “I’m relaxed.” She argues, but takes a sip of the drink nonetheless. “I just love mimosas. You can’t blame me for that.”

Y/N gives a slight shrug as she brushes a strand of her own carefully styled hair over her shoulder. Jo, being Jo, had insisted on sleeping in as much as she could that morning, so when the hair and makeup lady had arrived two hours ago, Y/N had been the first one to get made over. Which, honestly, she quite enjoyed, but the real feat would be remaining picture perfect until the ceremony, which is still two hours away.

“Will you do something for me?” Jo asks suddenly, her pen still scratching over her notebook. She finishes signing her name with a messy signature, waiting until the hairdresser has paused her movements to rip the page from the notebook and fold it up. She quickly writes Laure’s name on the front and extends the note to Y/N. “Will you bring this to Laure?”

Although Y/N accepts the note from her automatically, there’s a flicker of hesitation in her voice. “This isn’t an explanation of why you’re leaving her at the altar, is it?”

Jo flips Y/N off with an elegantly painted fingernail. “No, you jerk. We agreed to write letters to each other right before the wedding. As a little keepsake.”

A sudden lump develops in Y/N’s throat as she turns the note over in her hands, her mind flickering back to the last time she’d read something Jo wrote for Laure. How Harry’s voice had sounded reciting Laure’s words for Jo. “You two are sickeningly sweet, you know that?” Y/N finishes her mimosa before standing up, tightening her robe once again. “I’ll take it to her now. Where’s her cabin?”

“Just down the path towards the resort. Take a left when you reach the arrow sign.” Jo instructs her, setting her notebook down beside her before relaxing back into her chair. Her eyes close as the hairdresser continues styling her hair. “You’ll find it.”

Y/N nods, slipping on her scuffed up Vans before dashing outside. When the slight chill in the morning air hits her, she pulls her silk dressing gown around her tighter, and debates whether or not she should grab a proper jacket. She decides against it, however, and ignores the goosebumps popping up on her bare legs as she begins to walk down the path Jo mentioned.

It’s a quiet and calm morning, and Y/N can hear birds chirping and flittering through the pine trees around them. The trees themselves add a wonderful scent to the air, in addition to the faint smell that indicates it may rain later. Glancing up, Y/N can see that the sky is overcast, giving another indication of future weather patterns. A small sigh escapes her. A storm would be just the thing that’s needed today, she thinks wryly.

When Y/N reaches the arrow sign, which points towards the lake, the main resort building, and the cabins, she takes a sharp left. And practically slams into Harry’s chest.

On instinct, Harry’s strong hands grip her arms, steadying her as she stumbles back from him. Y/N’s eyes widen as she registers who she almost walked into, and she can tell Harry is just realizing it’s her. His grip on her tightens for just a moment before it releases, and he takes a step back from her, creating space between their bodies.

“Sorry.” Y/N says after a moment, clearing her throat. “I was just—”

“Yeah.” Harry holds up his hand, and for the first time Y/N realizes that he’s holding a note identical to hers. “You’re on messenger duty too, huh?”

Biting her lip, Y/N nods slowly, holding up her own note. “Mhmm.”

The two of them stare at each other for a moment, and Y/N doesn’t miss how Harry’s green irises pause during his scan of her bare legs. Crossing her ankles together, Y/N lets her eyes wander too, admiring for a moment how Harry’s grey sweatpants cling to his hips. But only for a moment.

“Well, here.” Y/N pushes the note towards him, taking the note that he trades her in return. “How’s Laure doing?”

Harry gives a half shrug, turning Jo’s note over and over in his fingers. “Pretty decent, except she won’t eat anything. Says she’s too nervous.”

Y/N cracks a small smile at the image of Laure, someone who is usually so self assured and confident, being too nervous about anything. “Tell her she can’t have a drink until she eats. That’s how I got some toast into Jo.”

“I’ll do that.” Harry says with a terse nod.

A beat of silence falls between the two of them, the only sounds audible being the chirping of birds and the wind in the trees. The latter sends a shiver through Y/N, and she wraps her arms around herself to rub her bare skin, trying to find a bit of warmth in the shade of the forest.

A crease appears between Harry’s brow as he registers the motion, and he quickly shrugs off his own jacket. Before Y/N can refuse, he’s draping the fabric around her shoulders, careful not to touch any bare skin.

Although Y/N fixes the drape of the jacket, her mouth opens to protest. “Harry—”

“I should go. I have to give this to Laure, and get her to eat something.” Harry’s voice is gruff as he takes a step back. “I suppose I’ll…see you at the wedding?”

Y/N nods slowly, her fingers still grazing over the hem of the jacket. “Yeah.” She should say more, she thinks. She should voice her anger, or her hurt, or whatever the hell it is that’s curdling like a hot ball of lead inside her stomach, but she can’t think of the words. “Yeah, I—” I’m sorry. I miss you. I wish I could take it back. I wish I could do things over. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”

…

“Uh, hello. Can everyone hear me?”

Y/N watches with expectant eyes as Harry leans forward over the podium, his pink lips brushing against the microphone for just a moment before he takes a step back. He looks so different than the last time she’d seen him with a microphone, she thinks. He’s dressed so much more formally, in a striking emerald suit that matches the colour palette of the wedding, along with Y/N’s dress. His cheeks are flushed from champagne, his eyes bright, but there’s a hint of nerves under his thick accent.

Harry raises his fist to his mouth, clearing his throat quietly as he unfolds a piece of paper and smooths it on the podium. “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Harry Styles. I have had the honour of being Laure’s best man today, as well as her best friend since we were teenagers.” Harry pauses his speech to smile at Laure, the fondness for the bride apparent in his eyes. “We’ve been through a lot together—I’ve watched her go through a lot, too—and she’s always come out on the other side better than ever. An example of this is when she made the decision—after living in England her whole life, never leaving, living in the same small brownstone for eighteen years—to move to America for university.”

Y/N lifts her champagne to her lips, taking a small sip while keeping her eyes glued to Harry. The more he talks, the more relaxed he appears, as he naturally falls into the role of a performer again. Out of the corner of her eye, she can practically see him charming every woman in the room, and it takes all her concentration not to roll her eyes.

“She’d made the decision a bit impulsively, and—in true Laure fashion—stuck to it like the stubborn person she is.” Harry laughs lightly, shaking his head at the memory as Jo nods in agreement beside Y/N. “She was so certain that moving was what she wanted, so determined to do it—and then the night before her flight, she showed up at my house in tears, talking about how she couldn’t possibly go through with the move. She couldn’t leave behind everything she’d known.” Glancing down at his notes for a moment, Harry takes a deep breath before continuing. “It freaked me out a bit, I won’t lie. To see someone who’s usually so sure of themselves question such a big decision. But I assured her that everything would be fine, that moving forward was always scary, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t the right thing to do. Life always pushes us forward, whether we’re ready for it or not. So Laure left, and a month later, I decided to go visit her in America, expecting to find her incredibly homesick, in tears, a mess.” A small smile begins to play at the corner of Harry’s lip. “Instead, I arrived to find her adjusted, happy, and about to go on a date with a girl she had met named Jo.”

A laugh ripples through the wedding guests, and Y/N can’t help but smile in spite of herself.

“And I, uh…I was at a loss for words that day.” Harry’s eyes flicker to the head table, settling on the two brides with a happy smile, and yet…something in his eyes looks flatter, like he’s trapped in a deep thought. “I thought I was going to visit my friend, and comfort her, and instead I found her on a date, completely fine. She didn’t need me to comfort her. She was—and still is—so incredibly resilient. She always has been.”

Harry’s eyes travel again, but this time, they settle on Y/N. She shifts in her seat as he looks her over, his eyes phasing emotions again while his tongue swipes over his lips quickly. “So anyways—” Harry quickly looks away when he catches Y/N’s eye, turning his attention back to the audience of wedding guests. “I suppose I��m the one to thank for this marriage, because if I hadn’t pushed Laure to come to America, she would never have met Jo.” An easygoing smile pulls at his pink lips as the crowd laughs lightly. “And now, Laure…you’re at that same place again. A new beginning. Except this time, you’re not alone. You managed to find something that most of us…” Harry hesitates again. “Most of us spend our entire lives searching for, and when we find it, we manage to f—screw it up.” His eyes flicker to Laure’s grandmother when he catches the curse word, and Y/N hides a small laugh behind her champagne glass. “But you didn’t. You and Jo…you’re lucky. You figured out what you wanted, and you didn’t let anything—fear, anxiety, or your…your own pride—” Harry swallows hard, his eyes flickering to Y/N once more, and the glance makes her skin burn beneath her dress. “—stop you. You’re both an inspiration to all of us. I love you two. To Jo and Laure!”

Y/N murmurs the toast with the rest of the crowd, raising her glass of champagne and draining it as her head spins with Harry’s words. A waiter walks by and quickly refills the glass, grazing by Harry as he makes his way back to his seat on Laure’s right side. Y/N barely gives herself a moment to catch his unreadable emerald eyes before she stands, carefully picking up the hem of her dress as she walks to the podium. It’s her turn now.

Stepping up to the microphone, Y/N clears her throat, resting her free hand against the wood to steady herself. “Thank you, Harry, that was…lovely.” Y/N begins, allowing herself one more stolen look at him. His brow is furrowed, hands folded together over the cream tablecloth as his eyes focus on her.

“My name is Y/N, and I’m the maid of honour. Jo and I have been best friends since the first day of kindergarten, when she punched a boy in the nose for me, which, funnily enough, wasn’t the last time she’d have to do that.” A laugh rolls through the room, and Y/N gives an endeared look to Jo’s sheepish grin before turning to face the wedding guests again. “I’ve had the good fortune of having her on my side from day one, and…I know just how lucky that makes me. There’s so many times where I’d…I wouldn’t have been able to handle what life threw at me if I didn’t have Jo with me. She’s kind, and compassionate, and fiery, and just…the very best person I know. And if you know her, then I’m sure you’d agree.”

Y/N takes a moment to breathe, her parched tongue swiping quickly over her lips. “I’ve, um, I’ve never been a perfect person. I’ve never been very good at…articulating what I feel, or—or making a hard choice. I’ve always followed a safer path, out of…fear, I suppose.” Not for the first time since she began talking, Y/N’s eyes travel to Harry. He still has the same stoic expression over his features, but his eyes…she can tell he’s hanging on every word she’s saying, and is analyzing every syllable.

“But Jo has never done that.” Y/N continues, shaking her gaze from Harry to settle on her best friend. “Even when she’s been afraid, she’s pushed forward, usually dragging me along with her. And it’s a good thing she has, because I wouldn’t have half the stories I have now if not for her.” Y/N cracks a smile. “But she just—when Jo loves you, you know it. She never hesitates to tell anyone. She never worries about it being too much. She has the biggest heart, and if you’re lucky—really lucky—she’ll keep you inside it. And I used to worry about her, because in my mind, that was dangerous. Being so open was so terrifying to me, I was certain that it would backfire for Jo. And then she met Laure.”

Although it’s a struggle, Y/N manages to train her eyes on Laure without letting them travel to Harry. “Laure and Jo may seem different on the surface, but they both share giant hearts. And their differences balance each other out so perfectly. You two—I never really believed in soul mates until I saw the two of you together.” Y/N admits, biting down hard on her lip when she catches Harry shifting in his chair from the corner of her eye. “But the way you two know each other, and speak to each other, and love each other…anyone who sees it can’t help but know that you’re meant for each other. That you’ve been meant for each other since the beginning of time. Every choice you made, every path you took—all of it led you two to each other, because that’s what was destined to happen. You—” Y/N’s voice catches in her throat, and she takes a moment to compose herself before speaking again. “You’re going to be happy together, because you were meant to be. It’s as simple as that.”

Y/N knows that she can’t say anything else without beginning to unravel, so she simply raises her champagne glass in the air, deciding it’s best to leave it at that. “To Jo and Laure.”

Above the echoes of the wedding guests, Y/N can hear Harry’s unmistakable voice.

…

“‘She’s like the wind…through my tree’…”

With her champagne glass raised to her lips, Y/N pensively watches as Jo and Laure turn to the music in each other’s arms, holding one another close as the voice of Patrick Swayze drifts through the speakers. When the pair had originally told Y/N that they wanted to dance to a song from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack for their first dance, Y/N had laughed at the choice. Now, however, as she watches Laure brush back a strand of hair from Jo’s face, her lips drifting down to whisper something in her new wife’s ear, Y/N has to admit that the song is the perfect choice for them.

“They look happy, don’t they?”

Y/N recognizes Harry’s voice, not needing to turn her head away from the couple on the dance floor to know that he’s moved from his chair three seats down. Although the feeling of his warm breath on her neck is enough to make her shudder, as well as bring back memories of the nights they spent together, Y/N does her best to keep herself composed.

“They do.” She agrees after a moment, setting her fluted glass down on the table. She keeps her fingers around the base, gently gliding them over the smooth crystal absentmindedly as she finally turns her head just enough to catch a sight of Harry.

He’s moved himself to Jo’s chair, with one hand braced against the table and one hand lightly settled on the back of Y/N’s seat. He removed his suit jacket after his speech, but his waist coat is still buttoned properly, despite the sleeves of his dress shirt now being rolled to his elbows, exposing his tattoos. His face is just as pensive as it’s been all day, but there’s some sort of change that Y/N can’t quite put a finger on. There’s less of a guard in his emerald eyes, she thinks, before turning her attention back to the dance floor.

“Do you…” Harry licks his lips once, swiping a hand through his carefully styled curls before brushing over the back of his neck. “Would you like to dance? With me?”

Y/N’s movements against the crystal flute pause. That question was the last thing she expected him to ask. “I…” Clearing her throat, she keeps her eyes focused on the swaying of Jo and Laure. “I don’t know.”

A vibration on the back of Y/N’s chair lets her know that Harry’s tapping his fingers against it, the pattern familiar after watching him play the same rhythm on the steering wheel for five days. “You don’t have to, so—don’t feel like you have to say yes. But I just…I don’t know. I thought it would be nice.”

Yes, Y/N thinks wistfully, pursing her lips slightly at the nervous tone in Harry’s voice. It would be nice. To be wrapped in his arms again, his body close enough that she can feel the pounding of his heart beneath his formal clothing. To feel his calloused hands within her own again, and resting on her waist, pulling her closer to himself with every passing moment…

“It…” Y/N glances down for a moment, fixing a crease in her dress with careful attentiveness. “It would be nice, yeah. Until we try ripping each other’s throats out in the middle of the wedding.”

The joke is only half a joke, and Harry’s laugh is only half in amusement. “I didn’t really plan on that.”

“Well, it seems that things we don’t plan on keep happening, so…” As the music begins to fade out, Y/N finally turns her head to look at Harry straight on. “That’s not really a reassuring statement.”

A flicker of irritation flits through Harry’s eyes, a sight that’s become familiar in all her years of knowing him. “It was a simple question, Y/N. Do you want to dance or not?”

As Y/N’s own irritation escalates, she knows that she should say no. The best thing for her to do right now would be to distance herself from Harry, to get some space to clear her head, and to keep herself from making a scene. Whatever there is to talk about—if there even is something they need to talk about—can be done at a later date, preferably not in the middle of a wedding. And yet—

“Fine.” Y/N finished off her champagne glass, setting it back down on the table gingerly as a new song begins to drift through the speakers. “Let’s go.”

Harry stands from his seat first, extending a hand to Y/N to help her up. Although she’s wary, she takes it, the sensation of his cool rings against her own fingers growing more and more familiar with each moment she spends touching them.

A few more couples have joined Jo and Laure on the dance floor now, and Y/N and Harry fit right in as he leads her to the center, keeping her hand held firmly in his own as his free hand finds her waist. Y/N rests her own hand on his shoulder, gripping his sturdy frame carefully.

“‘Is love so fragile…and the heart so hollow’…”

The song, Y/N realizes, doing her best to focus on anything but the way Harry’s gaze is locked onto her with a frightening intensity, is one that she’s heard a few times over their road trip together. The beat of the song is as familiar as a memory as the two of them sway to it, their motions careful and controlled.

“‘You’re saying I’m fragile; I try not to be…I search only for something I can’t see’…”

Harry’s hand on her waist, Y/N can’t help but notice, is so much more unsure than it was a few nights ago, when he pulled her close on top of the bar. When he guided her movements in a way that was so much more frenzied than he’s doing now, and in a way that she misses. She’s missed it, that breathless feeling. The feeling of not knowing what’s coming next, and being enthralled by the unknown of it all.

“‘I need you to love me…I need you today…give to me your leather…take from me my lace’…”

The corner of Harry’s lips quirking up ever so slightly lets Y/N know that he’s listening just as intently to the lyrics as she is, and has the same events and memories floating through his head. His hand begins to get braver, tightening his grasp on her as his hand begins to rub gently over her hip.

“Harry…” His name slips from Y/N’s lips involuntarily as she meets his jade eyes in question. From the corner of her eye, she can see Laure and Jo watching the two of them as they dance, whispering into each other’s ears like girls gossiping in a school hallway. “What—?”

“Sh.” The sound is soft as it falls past Harry’s red lips, the crease between his brow slackening slightly as he sighs. “Just…don’t speak. Not right now.”

“‘You in the moonlight…with your sleepy eyes…could you ever love a man like me’…”

The request is easy enough, but Y/N can’t make herself listen to it as she cocks her head to the side, the furrow of her own brow matching Harry’s. “Why?”

“‘And you were right…when I walked into your house…I knew I’d never want to leave’…”

The breath that Harry sucks in is mostly taken through his teeth, his lips pursing immediately after as he contemplates his answer. “I just want to…remember this moment. Properly remember it, before tonight ends, and we…”

“‘Sometimes I’m a strong man…sometimes cold and scared’…”

“…We go our separate ways.” Harry finally finishes, his eyes shifting to the floor as he pulls Y/N even closer to his chest. Her elbow is completely bent to her body as her fingers drift further from his shoulder, moving closer to where the slope of his neck begins.

Although the explanation makes sense, the thought of going a separate way from Harry catches Y/N’s breath in her throat, so much so that she can barely choke out a reply. “Okay.” She manages, the lump in her throat growing with every passing second.

“‘Lovers forever face to face…my city your mountains…stay with me stay’…”

Eyes drifting closed of their own accord, Y/N leans her head forward, settling her cheek into the curve of Harry’s shoulder. The smell of his cologne lingers in the fabric of his emerald waistcoat, intoxicating her further with every breath she takes.

“‘I need you to love me…I need you today’…”

Something warm and soft presses against the top of Y/N’s head, and she knows that it’s Harry’s own cheek resting against her. A gentle sigh falls from his mouth, and Y/N feels every moment of it, from the rise and fall of his chest against hers to the breath of air that blows slowly from his lips. She memorizes the motions, something for her to play in her head again later when she’s alone on a plane back to L.A., where her regular life is waiting for her. Where Brant is waiting for her.

“‘Give to me your leather…take from me my lace’…”

Y/N quickly lifts a finger to her eye, wiping away the moisture that’s pooling on her lash line before returning her grip to Harry’s shoulder. “If I said…” She hesitates, taking the time to choose her words carefully. She needs to choose them carefully. “If I said that I loved every moment of the road trip…would you believe me?”

“‘Lovers forever face to face…my city your mountains…stay with me stay’…”

Harry squeezes her hand in his own, his entire body tightening in response to her words, and for a moment, Y/N fears that she’s overstepped. An apology is already forming in her mouth, about to spill from her tongue, when Harry’s response cuts her off, his voice hesitant and anxious and so quiet that she almost can’t make out the words.

“If I said that I loved every moment I’ve ever spent with you, and not just these last five days, would you believe me?”

“‘I need you to love me…I need you today’…”

Y/N’s eyes snap open, her head quickly lifting from Harry’s shoulder to look at him with wide and astonished eyes. Although the struggle is written clearly upon his face, he doesn’t shy his eyes away from hers, and instead holds her gaze as the voice of Stevie Nicks continues to croon over the speakers.

“‘Give to me your leather…take from me my lace’…”

As the music fades out, another song begins to fade in, increasing the tempo and causing the other couples around them to break apart and mill around the dance floor. Only Y/N and Harry stay pressed together, stuck in a bubble of all their own, frozen in a moment of change, and unable to move forward or back in the same way they once had.

Over the fabric of her dress, Y/N can feel Harry’s thumb brushing against her hip, sending electrifying pulses throughout her body. A loose curl has fallen from his styled hair into the path of his eyes, dusting over his eyelashes lightly as he blinks. Did she believe him, she wonders? Could she believe him?

“Can we…” Her mouth is dry when she tries to respond, and she licks her lips quickly, noticing how Harry’s eyes flicker to follow the motion. “Can we discuss this after the wedding? I just—I don’t want to take attention away from Jo and Laure—”

“Yeah.” Harry nods roughly, his hand squeezing hers one last time before he slowly drops it, stepping back from her with great care. Y/N has to bite her tongue to stop herself from whining in protest.

“Yeah.” Harry repeats the word as he fixes his hair, his eyes drifting from hers. “We can discuss it later.”

…

Later, after Jo and Laure cut the cake, after each of them danced with their parents; later, after the staff members began to clear the plates from every table, after everyone waved goodbye to Jo and Laure as their car drove off to the honeymoon cottage snuggled further up the mountain side; later, after guests began to depart in their own cars; later, after Harry snagged a bottle of merlot from the kitchen, after Y/N slipped off her heels during the walk back to her cabin, the feeling of the ground beneath her feet oddly comforting; later, after Y/N opened the door, allowing Harry to step in first before following…

Later is each of them standing in the kitchen, still in their formal clothes, more disheveled than they were at the start of the day, as Y/N opens the cupboard and reaches for the two largest wine glasses she can find.

“Here.” She sets them down on the counter, allowing Harry to fill them to the brim with the crimson liquid. He pushes a nearly full glass towards her before taking the other in his hand, each of them bringing the glasses to their lips for a long drink.

Harry is nervous, and Y/N can tell. She’s gotten a bit better at reading him over their journey together, and she can see the anxiety that’s running through him in his body language. However, although the tapping of his fingers, the rubbing of his lips, and the crease between his brow is a major indication, she knows the real reason she’s aware of Harry’s nerves is because she’s hyper aware of her own.

“You, uh—” Harry clears his throat quietly, the action half reflex, half habit. “You looked really pretty today. Beautiful, actually.”

A light flush heats Y/N’s cheeks, both from the wine and his compliment. “Thank you.” She murmurs, glancing down at her forest coloured dress. “I’m just glad the dress survived the car.”

A chuckle falls from Harry’s lips as he lifts his wine glass again. “Yeah. A real miracle, huh?”

Y/N taps her fingers anxiously against the kitchen island, the coolness of the countertop a nice contrast to her heated skin. “Well, considering all the things that didn’t survive…” She trails off, watching as Harry’s face falls when the meaning of her words washes over him.

Still, Harry steels his shoulders, resolve painting itself over his pained features. “You mean us, yeah?” His tone is blunt and to the point. “After we…?”

“I just—what the fuck was that, Harry?” Y/N asks, her voice every bit as exasperated and exhausted as she feels. “I thought we—and then you—and now, saying you—you’ve always…?”

“I know I’ve been—I know I fucked up.” Harry drops his head, shame clear in his voice as he twists a ring around one of his fingers. “I know that, Y/N. I’m so sorry—”

“I’m just so confused, Harry. Really, I—” The words spill out of her now, faster than they ever have. “I know we were drunk when we fucked, but I…I liked it. And the next morning felt so good, and so right, and then Brant called, and it was like…a switch flipped inside you. And you called us a mistake. So I just—I don’t understand how you could say that less than forty-eight hours ago, and then tell me you’ve always loved being around me tonight.”

Harry’s tongue swipes over his lips once before he inhales slowly, collecting and preparing himself for the conversation. “I’m sorry.” He says lowly, his accent thicker with remorse. “I didn’t want to—I felt like it was a mistake, but not because of anything you did. It was because I knew that I had feelings for you, and I knew that you didn’t have feelings for me.”

The admission of his feelings was clear in his speech before he actually spoke the words, but the verbal acknowledgement of them still leaves an ache in Y/N’s chest as she refutes the statement. “You didn’t know that!” She says hotly, her hand tightening around her glass with every breath. “You wouldn’t let us talk about it, so how could you know?”

“Because Brant called!” While Harry’s voice doesn’t raise in volume, it does in intensity. “Brant called, and asked you to dinner, and you said yes!”

“What, did you want me to break things off with him right then and there? Over the phone?” Y/N demands, an incredulous look on her face as she appraises Harry. “I’m not a bitch, Harry. That would be heartless, and I’m not—I don’t want to hurt anyone. And maybe, maybe, it would be different if I felt anything for Brant, anything that was even a fraction of what I’ve felt for you, the good and the bad, but I don’t!”

Y/N’s words hang heavy in the air between them, flickering through the room like the dim light of the light fixture above them. There’s just enough light, however, that she can watch as her words roll over Harry, sinking into every pore of his body until all the defiance rolls out of him.

“What—” His voice cracks with emotion, and he takes a moment to compose himself before he tries again. “What do you feel for me?”

Turning her eyes down to her wine, she raises the glass to her lips, draining more than half of it in one swift motion. When she speaks again, her voice is slick with the liquor. “What does it matter?” She asks softly. “If you couldn’t believe it enough to not try to push me away the moment I let myself be vulnerable?”

“It wasn’t—your vulnerability wasn’t apparent to me.” Harry lifts the wine bottle automatically, refilling Y/N’s glass with merlot. “It was mine that scared me. Brant called, and you spoke to him, and I felt like—it was like that first date all over again, when you gave your attention to that guy from your class. I felt…” Staring into his own wine, Harry mulls over his words as if the liquor can reveal the perfect thing to say. “I felt like a jealous teenager again, like a proper idiot. And I—you’ve always been so much more put together than me, and refined, and steady, and Brant clearly fits into your world neatly, so I—”

“Stop fucking doing that.” Y/N’s voice is as sharp as ice, as harsh as frostbite. “How many times can we prove to each other that we’re more than our projections of the last seven years? How many times until it sticks?”

Harry studies Y/N’s face, his emerald eyes scanning over every slope and curve of her expression before he replies. “I didn’t think you felt anything for me. I’m still not…sure…”

“Harry, I feel—I feel everything with you.” Y/N’s voice drops to a hushed whisper, as if what she’s admitting is top secret. “I feel like I can be myself. I can be as stupid or serious as I need to be, and you’ll just…accept it. The only person I’ve ever felt that with before is Jo. No one else. And it—it’s terrifying, but good, and then you pushed me away again, and that fucking hurt. You have the ability to hurt me now, and the moment you got it, you did.”

“I didn’t know.” Harry mumbles the words, rubbing his hand over his flushed cheeks slowly. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. If I’d known—”

“But you didn’t even ask. You can’t do that, okay?” When Y/N looks up at him, she can see the vulnerability on her face reflected in Harry’s eyes. “Please. I don’t care if you get jealous, or angry, or—or anything else that’s as irritating as I know you can be—” A soft snort echoes from Harry. “Just be honest with me. Tell me. Ask me.”

“What about…” Harry reaches across the kitchen island, taking Y/N’s hand in his own and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “What I said to you earlier? I told you how I felt. And I asked what you feel for me. Can you be honest with me about that?”

“I can.” Y/N says carefully, pursing her lips for a moment. “I…I’m not sure if I’m ready to say something as…decisive as you do. I’ve never really—I know that I feel…more intensely for you than I ever have for anyone else. I just don’t know…how intense, or…I can’t describe it.”

“Maybe I can help.” Harry tugs gently on Y/N’s arm, bringing her around the kitchen island to his side of the room. With his hand still holding hers, he leads her to the couch, sitting down and pulling her with him. He’s mindful of the skirt of her dress, fixing it carefully so that it doesn’t get caught beneath her. “To me, love is…wanting to be near the other person. Do you want to be near me?”

Y/N nods softly. “I do.” She whispers into the darkness, the cabin quiet save for their breathing and the chirping of crickets outside.

“And what about…” Harry lifts a hand to caress her face, his calloused fingers gentle against her warm skin as he brushes over her cheekbone. “This? Do you like being touched by me?”

Y/N’s skin burns beneath his touch. “I do. A lot, actually.”

“And even when we were arguing…when we weren’t speaking to each other, and wouldn’t look at each other…” Harry worries his bottom lip between his teeth, the motion staining his lips an even darker pink than they were before. “Did you want me as badly as I wanted you?”

Harry’s other hand begins to rub Y/N’s thigh over her dress, still heating her skin even with the layers of fabric preventing actual contact. Y/N’s eyelids flutter at the sensation. “Yes.” She breathes, leaning her head against the back of the couch. “I did. I still do.”

“Obviously, I…I’d like it if you could know exactly how you feel, but…” Harry shrugs slightly, his hand drifting down to rest on the side of Y/N’s neck. “I know that it’s different for you. You’re not used to it. You don’t have to put a label on it, yeah? I just want you to be comfortable with me. As long as you’re mine, you can take as long as you need to express how you feel.”

Relief spreads through Y/N’s body at Harry’s words. The freedom to take her time, to feel like she doesn’t need to have all the answers right away, is something that none of her past partners have ever offered her, and a familiar sensation begins to curl itself around Y/N’s core as Harry caresses her neck. “Yours?” She repeats slowly, her senses feeling like they’re processing through molasses. “Am I yours?”

“I’d like you to be.” The corner of Harry’s pink lip pulls up, but there’s an air of anxiety in his words. “Are you?”

The fabric of her dress swishes beneath Y/N as she pulls herself into Harry’s, managing to settle one knee of either side of him beneath the layers of tulle. “I am.” She murmurs, her hands wrapping themselves around his sturdy shoulders. Their noses bump together as she moves closer, breath mingling in the small space between their lips. “I’ll be yours.”

Harry’s breath washes over her as he sighs gently, the fragrance of merlot and champagne settling on the back of her tongue. “Laure and Jo will be happy.”

A small laugh, mostly an exhale of breath more than anything else, sounds from Y/N as she twists the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck between her fingers. “Mmm. Probably because they won’t have to break up any more fights.”

“No, no, we’ll still fight. It keeps things interesting.” Harry’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk, his nose brushing over Y/N’s once more as he tilts his head to the side. “We’ll just have a lot more fun when we make up with each other.”

Harry’s fingers find the bare expanse of Y/N’s back between the straps of her dress, gliding his fingertips over her warm skin. The sensation of his cool touch against her sends a shiver up her spine, and she twists herself closer to him in return, but keeps the inch gap between their lips. There’s an anticipation between them, but also a stubbornness. A refusal to be the first one to break.

“A lot more fun?” Y/N questions, massaging the tips of her fingers into Harry’s scalp. She lets her painted nails scratch along him gently, just enough to make his eyelids flutter at the sensation. “What exactly do you mean?”

“I could tell you…” Harry purrs his words, pressing his head back into the palm of her hand. “Or I could show you. It’s up to you.”

His words offer Y/N a choice. Will she continue to push him? Or will she give in?

When her hands retreat from his hair, Harry whines quietly, his half lidded eyes staring up at her in confusion. Y/N braces herself against his shoulders as she carefully removes herself from his lap, picking up the fabric of her dress with one hand while grabbing the half empty bottle of wine with the other.

Harry watches as she takes a step backwards, her eyes glued to his as she appraises him. ��As comfortable—and as attractive—as he looks on the couch with his emerald slack covered legs spread, sleeves half rolled up, chest heaving from their close contact, Y/N needs him somewhere else.

Harry’s tongue glides slowly over his parted lips as Y/N raises the bottle of wine to her mouth, taking a small sip before turning on her heel and walking to the staircase that leads up to the master bedroom of the cabin. She only gets two steps up the stairs before she feels Harry’s hot breath on the back of her neck, his back and arms bracing against her as she climbs slowly. With one hand still holding her dress out of her way, Y/N steps over the summit of the stairs, not waiting for Harry before she makes her way to the bedroom.

The bedroom itself has been tidied by the hotel staff since Y/N last saw it, and she’s never been more thankful for it; she and Jo had left it in a mess in their efforts to get ready that morning. Instead, the staff have perfectly made the bed, complete with all the decorative pillows that Y/N had tossed onto the floor the night before, set fresh candles on the night tables and dresser, and left carefully rolled white towels on the edge of the bed.

A pair of tattooed arms wrap around Y/N’s waist, and a smile lights up her face as she falls back into Harry’s strong chest. “Your room is lovely. Much nicer than those motels.” He rasps in her ear, teeth just barely grazing her lobe as he speaks. “Do you have a lighter for the candles?”

“You want to light candles?” Y/N raises an eyebrow as she drops her dress from her hand in order to trail her fingers over Harry’s wrist. “That’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

Pressing a light kiss to her neck, Harry shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so.” He murmurs. “We were so rushed last time. I want to enjoy tonight.”

A smile creeps over Y/N’s face as she carefully unlaces Harry’s hands from her waist. “The lighter is in the bedside table, on the left.”

As Harry turns his attention to searching through the drawer, Y/N sets the wine down on the dresser, appraising her reflection in the mirror propped on top of it. She begins to unpin the hair that had been carefully styled that morning, her hair only a fraction as put together as it had been. Setting the pins down on the wood surface in front of her, she takes her time taking off her earrings and bracelets, her eyes following Harry’s movements in the mirror.

The broad expanse of his back is still covered by his green waistcoat, rumpled as it stretches over the slope of his body. With each movement, a new flicker of candlelight begins to glow in front of him, illuminating the silhouette of his body with soft flickers of orange and yellow.

“You’re a bit of a romantic, aren’t you?” The question slips from Y/N’s lips before she’s turned around completely to watch Harry’s actions without the aid of the mirror. “You like this sort of thing—the candles, the cabin in the forest, coming from a wedding…”

Harry’s body shakes as a laugh rolls through him, his side profile barely visible as he turns to light another candle next to the bed. “I suppose I am, yeah. Are you not?”

Y/N gives half a shrug, tucking her now loose hair behind her ears as best she can. “I don’t know. I’ve never really considered myself one…never saw the point in grand gestures. They’re not very realistic.”

“They don’t have to be realistic. That’s why it’s a grand gesture.” Harry says easily, sauntering towards her with a dimpled grin on his face. He reaches carefully behind Y/N, his thumb flicking the lighter to spark as he tilts the candle towards the flame. “And I’d hardly call candles a grand gesture. Haven’t you ever been properly romanced?”

Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth as she contemplates the question. “Not…really? I mean, there’s been a few things, but nothing…I don’t know. We were always busy—”

“You can always make time for someone if you want to.” Harry sets the lit candle back down on the dresser, repeating the motion with two more before setting the lighter down as well. “Hasn’t Brant ever—well, I know he hasn’t, actually—” A snort leaves Harry’s mouth as he begins to run his hands over Y/N’s bare shoulders, massaging the skin gently. “Haven’t any of your exes asked you what you wanted, or…done something spontaneous for you, like a surprise gift, or trip, or…?”

Harry trails off as he registers the expression on Y/N’s face, and feels the tensing of her shoulders beneath his hands. “Um, not really.” She says, doing her best to keep her tone light. “We were always very…scheduled. A surprise trip wasn’t really feasible.”

The corner of Harry’s mouth tugs down into a frown, his hands continuing to work over the knots in Y/N’s shoulders as he turns her around. He presses himself behind her, moving her hair to one side of her neck before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her spine. “The more we speak, the more I see why you’re so guarded, love.” He murmurs, his tone carefully controlled. “You don’t need to be like that with me. If you’re…afraid of what I’ll think, or…you know I tease you, but you’re always fine with me. We can be serious—”

“No.” Y/N shakes her head adamantly, glancing at Harry over the curve of her own shoulder as she rests one hand over his own. “I don’t want to be serious. I’m so sick of being serious.” She maneuvers Harry’s hand to her back as she speaks, guiding his fingers until they find the zipper of her dress. “I like that you tease me, and aren’t afraid to irritate me, and how you care enough to listen to what I say…”

The sound of her zipper slowly being tugged down pricks Y/N’s ears, and she watches Harry’s movement in the mirror. There’s a clear look of concentration painted onto his expression as he helps remove her dress, but the moment he catches her eye, he locks into her gaze. As he finishes pulling down the zipper, he keeps his emerald eyes glued to hers in the reflective surface, his stare becoming more and more hypnotic with every passing second.

“So what you’re saying is…” Harry’s lips brush against her ear as he leans closer to her, pressing a sensual kiss right over her pulse point. “You want me to romance you, but still annoy the shit out of you?”

Although it’s breathless, the sound that leaves Y/N’s mouth is unmistakably a laugh as Harry begins to trail kisses down her neck, slipping the strap of her dress down her shoulder. “Yes. It’s oddly endearing.”

“Oddly endearing is my middle name.” Harry’s laugh matches hers as his hands continue their task of removing her clothing. Once Y/N’s straps are free of her shoulders, Harry helps her step out of the hunter green dress, carefully maneuvering the full skirt to the corner chair without creasing it.

“Wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty dress, now would—” Harry freezes mid sentence as he turns back around, his mouth falling slack as if seeing Y/N for the first time.

Despite having been naked and underneath his body less than forty eight hours ago, Y/N crosses her arms over her body. The black teddy bodysuit she’d purchased to wear under her bridesmaid dress had, at the time of purchase, been more for practicality than anything. The underwire of the strapless bra supported by the corseted middle was comfortable enough to keep her properly situated in her dress without a wardrobe malfunction, as well as serving as a barrier between Y/N’s sensitive skin and the stitched seams of the gown. It’s not until this moment, with Harry staring at her with a hungry stupor in his eyes, does Y/N realize how racy the undergarment is.

“What?” She says after a moment, a note of uncertainty creeping into her voice. “I—it’s not like you haven’t seen me before.”

The nerves woven into her tone are enough to snap Harry from his thoughts. “This is…different.” He approaches her again, his steps slow and measured as he lays a hand on her lace covered side. “I was pissed last time I had you…didn’t get to properly take in the sight of you…” Harry scratches his nails over one of the mesh panels, his jade eyes darkening another shade once more.

“I didn’t get to enjoy you, either. And yet you’re still fully clothed.” Y/N begins to fiddle with the buttons of Harry’s emerald waistcoat, working them open one by one as she forces herself to steady her breathing. “That’s not very fair, is it?”

“I suppose it’s not. Not fair at all.” Harry allows her to pull his waistcoat from his body, and it’s not until Y/N reaches the third button of his button down shirt that she realizes how much he’s enjoying her undressing him.

Every breath that Harry takes is ragged and shallow, his chest heaving with the effort to keep himself controlled as Y/N’s fingers trail down the exposed skin of his chest. The sight of Harry’s throat tightening as her nails scrape his skin is too much for her to resist, and she quickly attaches her lips to the base of his neck as she pulls the now unbuttoned shirt from his body.

Swiping her tongue over the new mark at the base of his throat, Y/N manages to pull a moan from Harry, and her lips pull back into a small smile against his hot skin at the sound. “You sound really nice when you do that.” She murmurs, her hand trailing down to his belt as she speaks.

She can feel Harry swallow again, and when he replies, his voice is as low as she’s ever heard it. “Then you’ll have to make me do it more, won’t you, pet?” His eyes are blown darker with lust as he grips Y/N’s hips tight, pressing the pads of his fingers into her flesh. “Are you going to give me moans that are just as pretty? Or am I going to have to pull them from your stubborn little mouth?”

Y/N’s breath hitches in her chest at his dominant tone, her mouth falling open in a gasp against Harry’s collar bones. She can feel the vibrations of his laugh in her lips, the tingle not unlike the burning she feels in her core, and Harry’s hand travels from her hips to her chin as the burning increases.

“Cat got your tongue, hm?” Harry grips Y/N’s chin between his thumb and forefinger as she fumbles with his belt, the action clumsier without her looking at her movements. “Don’t get all shy now, m’love. It’s just me. We’ve been here before.”

Pulling his belt from his dress pants, Y/N tosses it to the side, her fingers resting on the warm skin of Harry’s abdomen. “I know. It just feels different now, that’s all. After everything we said, and…” Her eyes are unable to hold his as she drifts off, and she drops her gaze to his swallow tattoos as her cheeks redden.

A gentle tap on her chin brings her eyes back to meet Harry’s intense gaze. “I know it feels different, but that’s not bad.” Harry’s voice softens as his thumb begins to stroke over her skin, the motion slow and gentle. “It can be really good, actually. I told you, I can properly enjoy you now. If you’ll let me, that is. It’s up to you.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, dragging her teeth over her bottom lip as she reaches behind her back. Her fingers quickly find the laces at the back of the garment, and she pulls the tie undone slowly, making sure to keep her eyes locked with Harry’s the entire time. “I want that. I want you, Harry. I want…all of you.”

She barely has her laces undone before Harry is grasping at her hips, pulling her body tight against his again for another desperate kiss. His lips glide between hers smoothly, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle before he lets his teeth nip at her bottom lip, tugging at the flesh in a hungry way. With her lingerie hanging loosely off her body, Harry easily yanks the material down her body, fully exposing Y/N’s breasts and stomach.

The sight of her exposed skin is enough to grab Harry’s attention from the removal of clothing, and he leaves the lace bodysuit hanging at her hips as his kisses begin to travel down her jaw, her neck, her collar bones, to her breasts. A breathless gasp falls from Y/N’s mouth as Harry’s open mouthed kisses become wetter and longer, until his hot mouth is wrapped around her stiff nipple.

“Harry—” Y/N tangles a hand in his already ruined curls, yanking hard at his hair as his teeth scrape against her sensitive skin. “God, be careful—”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Harry murmurs the phrase against her breast, barely pulling his mouth off enough to speak. His eyes, although half lidded with lust, flicker up to her with a playful look. “Y’really want me to be careful, pet? Or do you want me to devour you?”

His words send another flood of heat to her core, and it takes all of Y/N’s focus to keep herself standing upright. “Shut up.” She mutters, voice pitched higher than normal as she tugs on Harry’s hair again, half in need and half to solicit a groan from him.

The groan he emits, however, just adds more sensation to his teasing as the sound causes a vibration against her nipple, and Y/N barely manages to pull Harry away from her before her knees buckle.

Harry, however, wastes no time, and it’s only the moment after Y/N pulls him off of her that he’s kissing her again, teeth clacking against teeth as he backs her up towards the bed. When the back of her legs hits the mattress, Y/N stumbles back, but Harry catches her in time to lower her gently to the bed.

There’s an unmistakable tenderness in the movement, and the action catches Y/N right in the throat. “Thought you weren’t being careful?” Despite her ribbing tone, Y/N’s voice is breathless as she settles back into the soft sheets. “Isn’t that what you just said, pet?”

A growl rips from the back of Harry’s throat as he cages himself over her shaking body, his mouth already reattached to her chest to leave a fresh trail of bruises from her sternum to her abdomen. “You’re such a bloody minx, y’know that?”

Although she opens her mouth to reply, the only sound that leaves Y/N’s lips is a gasp as Harry quickly lifts her hips to pull her teddy completely off, tossing it to the side without so much as a glance. He leaves one last bite on her lower abdomen, just hard enough to leave an imprint of his mouth, before soothing the mark with a wet swipe of his tongue over the red skin.

“Knees up, minx.” Harry’s accent is thick, dripping from his voice like honey as his hands rub her lower calves, helping to push them up on the bed until Y/N’s legs are bent and spread open in a position he likes. The way that Harry’s tongue swipes over his lips tells Y/N of his intentions right away, and she braces herself on her elbows on the bed before pulling back.

Harry, who had been leaving open mouthed kisses along Y/N’s knees, makes a disgruntled sound at the loss of contact. “Where do y’think you’re going?” He asks in frustration, pulling himself onto the bed and crawling after her. Gripping one of her ankles, he spreads her open again, resuming the path his mouth had been making to her core a moment ago. “Trying to get away from me?”

A breathless laugh falls from Y/N’s mouth. “More like trying to get comfortable. It’s been so long since I’ve had someone…” Despite Harry’s position between her legs, Y/N can’t bring herself to say the words.

“Had someone what? Eat your cunt?” Harry asks crudely, raising an eyebrow as he kisses her inner thigh. His hot breath rolls over her core, causing Y/N to sigh as she relaxes back into the sheets. “That’s a tragedy, love. Especially when you taste so sweet. I remember from a few nights ago…I just barely got a taste when we…”

She should know better, Y/N thinks. She should know, now that she knows Harry well enough, that something like this is coming, especially since it’s exactly what he did last time he was between her legs. Still, when his ringed index finger runs quickly between her folds, becoming coated in her wetness just for Harry to pop it into his mouth like a satisfied and smug ass, Y/N half jumps off the bed.

“Sensitive, are you?” Harry laughs around his finger, taking great care to lick off every bit of her wetness. “Just as sensitive as you are sweet.”

Y/N struggles to prop herself up on her elbows, doing her best to give him a scathing look. “You could’ve warned me, you—”

Her complaint is cut off abruptly by Harry licking over her slit with the flat of his tongue, collecting every drop of arousal before suctioning his lips over her clit. “What was that?” He mutters between his actions, flicking his tongue over Y/N’s clit as she grasps the sheets between her fingers. “I didn’t quite catch it, love.”

Falling back onto the pillows, Y/N allows her eyes to close for just a moment as she twists the cotton sheets between her hands. “Shut—shut up.” She moans, one hand releasing the sheets to latch onto Harry’s curls. She tugs harshly, and the moan he releases sends shivers from her core into her spine.

Although Harry laughs against her, his smirk detectable against her folds as his tongue continues to work over her, a silence falls between them as he continues to eat her out. It shouldn’t be surprising, she manages to think as she tugs on his curly locks, that Harry is giving her the best oral she’s ever received. Everything he does to her, from irritating her, making her laugh, to pleasuring her, is so intense that it only makes sense.

Harry’s tongue dips inside Y/N’s entrance, proving that thought to be true for what seems to be the millionth time that night. Y/N can’t help but writhe on the sheets now, her body unable to contain the pleasure that’s building inside her core like never before.

When a gasping whine echoes from Y/N, a sound she’s never even heard herself make before, one of Harry’s hands moves from its position on her thigh, where he’s been holding her open so he can continue to work. It travels up her leg to her pelvis, pressing flat on her lower abdomen and keeping her hips secure to the bed.

“You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you, pet?” Harry’s mouth is red, coated with her wetness when he glances at her. He begins to rub circles on her abdomen, both soothing her and creating an ache deep inside her that she knows can only be satisfied by his cock. “You’re going to be a good girl and cum on my mouth, yeah?”

Y/N whimpers in response, barely managing to keep her eyes open as she nods desperately. “I-I need—your fingers, or—”

“No, no, pet, you don’t need that.” Harry assures her between long licks over her clit. “I’ll fill you later, but you’re going to cum from my mouth. I know you can do it, love. I know you can.”

“I—” Harry’s hand pressed to her abdomen is the only thing keeping Y/N from rutting her hips into the air in desperation. “Please, Harry, I—”

“You can do it.” Breath hot against her entrance, Harry dips his tongue within her again, moving it in and out slowly as his nose brushes against her sensitive bundle of nerves. “You—fuck—you’re so ready, Y/N, I know you can do it…just relax, pet…let go…”

Let go. The command is so simple, and yet, isn’t that all Y/N’s ever wanted? Isn’t that exactly what Harry has managed to allow her to do this entire trip? No sooner does the thought cross her mind that Harry’s teeth graze over her clit, tweaking it ever so gently before pressing the flat of his tongue against it once more. He gives a harsh suck, mouthing something she can’t understand, and then Y/N is tugging on his chestnut curls with a renewed desperation as she falls over the brink of pleasure.

“Harry, Harry, Harry…” His name is the only thing Y/N can repeat as she orgasms, her head falling back against the pillows while the waves of her pleasure wash over her.

Harry untangles her hand from the sheets, weaving his fingers through her own to give her something solid to hold onto as she loses herself in the sensations. Although he keeps his mouth pressed to her, his actions are gentler, just licking the wetness that drips from her entrance as she rides out her orgasm.

It takes a few moment for the pleasure to recede enough that Y/N can become aware of her surroundings again. Chest heaving, she lolls her head to the side, her hand falling from Harry’s curls and onto the crumpled sheets.

Harry finally pulls away from her then, pulling himself from between her legs to the side of Y/N’s shaking body. He licks his wet lips, savouring the last drops of her arousal before pressing softer kisses to her stomach, her sternum, her collar bones, until he reaches her lips.

“You alright, love?” Harry asks, voice quiet in the hum of the night as he settles beside her. He brushes a sweaty strand of hair from her forehead, and the motion is so gentle that Y/N almost tears up. “Just take some deep breaths.”

“I—” Y/N sucks in another breath as Harry wraps an arm around her stomach. “I’m alright. Just…trying to catch my breath.” She laughs nervously as her cheeks redden in a post-orgasm haze. “You’re, uh, you’re really good at that.”

Harry’s laugh is much more amused than hers. “Thank you. I quite enjoy it, so it would be rather sad if I wasn’t good at it.”

“That’s true.” Y/N hums, rolling her head onto Harry’s shoulder. He rubs small circles on her waist, and the action gives her something to focus on as she evens her breathing.

Harry sighs in satisfaction. “You know, if you had shagged Brant, I doubt his cunnilingus skills would have been as good as mine.” He says thoughtfully, as if he’s been pondering the idea for a while.

Y/N groans, bracing her hand against is muscled chest to shove him away. “Do not mention Brant while I’m lying next to you naked! Christ, I shouldn’t have to say that!”

Harry laughs as he readjusts himself, pulling his body over hers while his lips work against her neck. “I’m sorry. I won’t bring him up again, I swear.”

Huffing slightly, Y/N settles herself back into the sheets. “Good.”

“But for the record—”

“If you keep speaking, I’m not giving you a blowjob.” Y/N warns, shooting Harry a warning glance. “Are you prepared to give that up?”

The speed at which Harry’s face falls is almost comical. His brow creases as his ruby lips pull down into a pout, his arms keeping himself suspended above Y/N as he relents. “Alright, I’m sorry. Truly, I am. I’ll stop.”

Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes focus on Harry’s shining green irises. “Good, because I really want to blow you.”

The crude admission catches Harry by surprise, his eyebrows jumping up in shock as he rolls to the side. Propping himself up on his elbow, he rakes a hand through his messy curls as he answers with a measured tone. “You do?”

Y/N nods slowly, pushing herself up to sit on her knees as one of her hands begins to trace over the muscles of Harry’s chest. “I do. Like you said…I didn’t get to last time. And I bet you taste good.”

Harry sucks in a breath through his teeth as he gives a sharp nod. “Yeah. Okay. If you want to—”

“I do.” Y/N presses on Harry’s chest to push him back again, but this time she does it carefully, settling him back into the sheets like he did for her. Moving so that she’s on her knees beside him, she gives him a quick kiss, only letting herself enjoy his slightly chapped lips against hers for a moment before she directs her attention to the bulge in his Calvin Klein boxers.

Y/N trails a finger over the line of hair leading to the waistband, feeling the muscles of Harry’s abdomen contract under her finger. “Sensitive, huh?” She asks quietly, mimicking what he had said to her before earlier.

Harry inhales deeply, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “Yeah. So don’t tease me.”

“I’m not. I’m just…warming you up.” Y/N continues the motion for a moment before her fingers drift to the elastic of his boxers. She dips a finger beneath it, continuing to tease his abdomen before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his clothed bulge.

Harry’s hips jerk in reaction, his mouth falling open as he spits out a curse. “Bloody hell…”

“Feel good?” Y/N only lifts her mouth enough so that the soft murmur can be heard. She can feel Harry’s cock twitching as her lips move over it, and the thought that she’s turning him on enough for him to twitch in his boxers sends a flood of heat between her thighs.

“Feels really good, yeah.” Harry’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and the effort it takes to keep his voice controlled is apparent on his face. “Keep going.”

Y/N hums in response, hooking her fingers into the waistband of his boxers and slowly pulling them down his legs as Harry lifts his hips. She waits until his boxers are completely removed to turn her attention back to his cock, and the sight of it makes her mouth water.

It’s just as big as she remembers, with a slight curve along the length leading to the red and leaking head. Y/N can practically see the heat radiating off of it, she thinks, and when she wraps her hand around the base, her suspicions are confirmed.

The weak groan that falls from Harry’s cherry red lips is the only thing that keeps Y/N from getting completely distracted by admiring him. She pumps him slowly a few times, and his length throbs in her hand as more blood floods to his pelvis. Licking her lips once, Y/N leans down and gives a small kitten lick to the leaking tip, collecting the precum on her tongue.

A garbled moan sounds from Harry’s chest, and Y/N watches from the corner of her eye as one hand tucks into his own curls before the other gathers her hair within his fist. Although he’s holding her, he doesn’t force her down, or try to guide her motions. He wants to see what she’s going to do of her own accord.

Y/N takes her time, licking slowly from the head of Harry’s cock to one of the pulsing veins that runs down his shaft. She traces the line with the tip of her tongue, enjoying the sounds that the action pulls from Harry before taking the head of his cock between her lips. Mindful of her teeth, she sucks slowly, pushing herself further and further down his length until her nose is just touching his pelvis.

“That’s it, minx.” Harry moans his words, his voice breathless and strained as he cards his fingers through her hair. His flushed chest is rising and falling prominently as Harry takes deep breath after deep breath. “Doing so well, aren’t you?”

The praise sends a wave of delight through Y/N, and she begins to bob her head faster, working what she can’t fit into her mouth with her hand. Harry, she learns, is extremely vocal during sex, which isn’t exactly surprising now that she knows him better. Still, his moans and whimpers are all the encouragement Y/N needs to keep her pace, slowing down only to tease him. And she loves to tease him.

“Fuck—” A groan rips from Harry’s chest as Y/N slows her motions again, trailing her tongue up his length before focusing on his tip with great interest. “C’mon, darling, don’t be mean to me. I wasn’t mean to you.”

“I’m just enjoying myself, Harry.” Y/N says innocently, batting her eyes at him as she kisses the head of his cock. “Don’t you want me to enjoy myself?”

The question is simple enough, but the sinful context makes Harry buck his hips into her hand. “Y’know I do, pet, but you’re torturing me…”

Y/N lifts her mouth from his length with a quiet pop as her strokes slow down. “Am I?”

“Fucking hell—” Another moan forces its way through Harry’s clenched teeth. “You won’t be laughing when I’m fucking you at the same pace you’re teasing me right now.”

Y/N’s movements stutter for the first time since she began. “What?”

“Didn’t think of that, did you, minx? Thought you could tease me, and I wouldn’t get you back?” Although Harry’s words are domineering, he pants through them, throwing his head back against the pillow. “That—Christ—That’s not how it works.”

Speeding up her stroking of his length, Y/N leans over Harry’s body, sponging a kiss just at the corner of his lips. “You don’t mean that, Harry. You need to fuck me just as badly as I need it.”

“You need it, do you?” Harry’s eyes snap open, lust completely clouding the jade green of his irises. “How badly? Tell me.”

Y/N kisses him once more, pulling back the moment his tongue tries to pull her in for more. She returns her mouth to the tip of his cock, letting her tongue flick over his slit before sucking on him again. “So badly, Harry. I’ve never felt as full as I did with you in me…”

“Oh fuck…” Harry’s words slip into drawn out moans as he tugs on his own hair, his hips stuttering up into her hand again. “Stop.”

The sudden command makes Y/N pause, and she pulls her mouth off of Harry’s length to stare up at him with wide eyes. “What?” Her hand pauses its motions, but stays wrapped loosely around his base. “Is—is everything okay? Did I hurt you?”

The concern and fear in Y/N’s voice is enough to snap Harry out whatever headspace he had been slipping into. “No, pet, you didn’t hurt me. I just need to be inside your tight cunt. Can’t stand another moment without it, if I’m honest.”

The twitch of his cock in her hands confirms his words, and Y/N gives one last lick to its biggest vein before releasing him. She keeps her mouth in use, however, by sponging kisses up Harry’s already marked chest, stopping only once she reaches his lips.

The kiss they share is passionate, with a rhythm finally established between the two of them as Harry slots his plump lips neatly between hers. There’s no awkward turning of their heads, trying to find a way to slip a tongue into a mouth, and no teeth clicking together. Already, each of them knows the best way to fit together, as if they were meant to all along.

“How do you—” Harry mutters the words against Y/N’s lips, his breath flowing into her own panting mouth with every gasp. “How do you want me, love?”

Y/N takes a moment to think, but only a moment. “On top. I like…” Her cheeks flush with even more heat. “I like feeling you over me. And holding your hands…”

Harry raises a surprised brow at the confession she spills into his mouth. “My hands?”

Forehead still pressed against his, Y/N nods, picking up one of his hands and lacing his ringed fingers through her own. “Mhmm. They’re strong, and…and they fit in mine so nicely.” Y/N glances at Harry through her lashes, shy despite having his cock in her mouth less than a minute ago. It’s the intimacy, she realizes. A sexual act is nothing new to her, but putting emotion behind it…

“They do fit together well, don’t they?” Harry agrees, squeezing her hand as he leans forward, pressing puckered lips to her forehead. “Alright, then. Lie down for me.”

After Harry grabs a condom from Y/N’s bag and rolls it on, it takes a moment for the two of them to get positioned comfortably. Y/N leans back on the rumpled sheets, fixing one of the pillows behind her head with Harry’s help. Once he knows that she’s comfortable, Harry spreads Y/N’s legs again, situating himself between them with his arms propped up on either side of her body.

Although it’s the same position as the last time they had sex, Y/N can’t help but feel like it’s entirely different in every single aspect. While the drunken need that she felt for Harry had been exciting, and while he had satisfied her incredibly, there’s something different about knowing that she has feelings for the man who’s so interested in pleasuring her, and that he has feelings for her in return.

Harry moves one hand to his length, rubbing the tip of it between Y/N’s soaked folds as his other hand grasps her own. “Are you ready?” He murmurs, his lips hovering just over her own.

Y/N nods quickly, squeezing his hand tightly. “Please, H. I need it.”

The first thrust into her is slow. Painstakingly slow. Y/N knows that she should be appreciative of the restrain Harry has, and that she needs a moment to adjust to his size, but the way he stretches her makes her feel so complete that she can’t help but whine for more.

“Faster, Harry.” She pants, squeezing her eyes shut as he continues to enter her slick entrance. “I…”

“Sh, love. Just spreading you open first, yeah?” The effort to control himself shows through the strain in his voice, but Harry still manages to sponge a quick kiss over her lips. “Besides…I warned you, didn’t I? Said I’d tease you if you teased me…”

Y/N whines loudly as Harry finally bottoms out, his hips pressing flush to hers and bringing a kind of euphoric fullness that she’s never felt before. “Oh God…” She drags out her speech, her eyes barely managing to flutter open in time to catch the look on Harry’s face as he feels her walls squeeze him.

His brows are drawn together, an all too familiar crease appearing between them. It’s a look of concentration, but the pull of his mouth and the quiet pants leaving it tell Y/N that it’s so much more than that. His pupils are blown out, dilated so much that she can barely see the green that she loves so much, and every few moments, Harry’s eyelids flutter, times perfectly with the contraction of Y/N’s pussy around his length.

“Move, Harry.” Y/N begs, grasping his free hand and squeezing it along with his other hand. “Please.”

Her pleading sends a shiver down Harry’s spine, and he begins to thrust in and out of her slowly, letting her adjust to each pace before gradually increasing his movements. “Like that, pet?” He asks, voice low and thick with pleasure. “Is that what you wanted?”

A whine is all the answer he gets, as Y/N is so far gone past the point of being able to reply with a coherent sentence. The only thing she can think of is how good it feels to have Harry fill her. How the feeling of his cock inside her is simultaneously too much for her, the most content she’s ever felt, and not enough to satisfy the ache deep within her. Every one of her senses is consumed with Harry—the touch of his skin to hers, at her pelvis, over her abdomen, his hands squeezing hers with desperation as he thrusts inside of her repeatedly. The scent of his cologne mingled with his sweat, so hot and all consuming that the air feels thick with it. The taste of that scent on the back of her tongue, along with his Merlot flavoured kisses that linger in her mouth. The sight of him caged over her, his sweaty curls and flushed skin being all that she can see. The sound of his moans, hot and low in her ear.

Everything is Harry. Had there every been a time where it wasn’t?

When Harry pulls his hands from Y/N’s, a small whimper stumbles out of her mouth, growing louder when his thrusts begin to slow and the ball of tension in her core begins to uncoil. “What—?” She begins, the question still half formed on her tongue when Harry moves his grip to her knees.

In one swift motion, Harry has her left knee over his shoulder, quickly repeating the movement with her right leg as he sponges stuttered kisses over the newly available skin. “Need to be deeper.” He mutters, pressing a wet and breathless kiss to Y/N’s lips before sitting up for more leverage. Weaving his fingers back through hers, Harry begins to thrust again, the head of his cock rubbing against new areas with every motion.

And oh. It’s like an entirely new feeling. The moans and whimpers are leaving Y/N’s mouth in a steady stream now, with any ability she had to filter her volume gone the moment Harry’s cock presses against her G-spot.

“Fuck, Harry, right there, baby—” Y/N releases one of his hands to throw her arm around his shoulder, digging her nails into the muscled skin as the words of pleasure slip past her lips. “That’s it, that’s so fucking good—”

“Yeah?” Harry grunts, bracing himself against the bed so that he can increase the speed of his movements. “You like how my cock fills you?”

Y/N nods desperately, the movement stuttered as she shakes from both her pleasure and the force of Harry driving his hips into her own. “Yeah, I—fuck, you’re going to make me cum…”

Harry’s face twists in concentration as he removes his braced hand from the bed and trails it down Y/N’s body, pausing just enough so that he can tweak her nipple as he passes by. He continues on until he reaches his destination, and settles his large thumb over her clit to rub fast and concise circles on the bundle of nerves.

“Oh—” Y/N’s back arches off the bed as her nails dig into the skin of Harry’s shoulder, as well as the back of his hand. She barely manages to pant through her whimpered words. “Fuck, I’m going to cum—”

“Please, baby.” Harry pleads with her, his expression desperate as he stipples more kisses to Y/N’s knees, the only inches of skin that he can get his mouth on as he drives himself harder into her. “Need you to cum for me, I—fuck, minx, I need it more than you know.”

A sharp gasp falls from Y/N’s slick mouth as Harry hits her G-spot again, and the sharp repeated motion combined with his stimulation of her clit is enough to send her barrelling headfirst over the edge. A desperate sound leaves her mouth, half moan, half whine, as the coil in Y/N’s core snaps, sending shockwaves of pleasure through every inch of her body.

The reaction is almost instantaneous. As her body shakes with pleasure, abdomen contracting and releasing over and over, Y/N feels Harry’s hips begin to stutter, his movement growing sloppier as the constriction of her core works Harry to an orgasm.

“Y/N—that’s it, pet, just—yes—” Harry’s words are more coherent than hers, but still just form a string of half put together phrases as he presses himself deep inside her, his eyes snapping shut as he spills inside the condom. A choked sound works its way out of his throat, pulling from deep within his chest, and the pads of his rough fingers dig into her thighs as he grounds himself throughout his orgasm.

Y/N’s shuddering climax finishes before Harry’s does, and all she can do is collapse back in the sheets, enjoying the feeling of his cock throbbing inside her one last time before he pulls out slowly to clean himself and throw away the condom. An involuntary whine, quiet but audible, falls from her lips at the empty feeling that’s left behind, but it’s soon satiated after Harry returns to the bed, wrapping his shaking arms around her and pulling her tight into his chest.

His chest, like her own, is soaked in sweat, covered in dark bruises, and heaving from the aftermath of the orgasm he’s just finished, but it’s the only place Y/N wants to be. She presses her ear into his skin, his racing heartbeat thumping beneath her head, and she focuses on the pounding pattern as she attempts to catch her breath.

Harry speaks first, clearing his throat before his wrecked voice fills her senses. “That was…that was so fucking good. I was worried that it wouldn’t be as good as the last time, because we were more sober, but…”

“It was better, yeah. I know.” Y/N agrees, her voice filled with exhaustion and contentment as she kisses over a purple bruise forming on Harry’s collar bone. “I think…I think knowing how we feel made it better.”

“I agree.” Harry’s hands move over her back, his fingertips tracing invisible patterns onto her sweaty skin. “Passionate sex with someone you care for with candles lit…all after the wedding of your best friend…was that romantic enough for you?” There’s a teasing edge to his voice, just barely audible beneath the rasp.

A tired smile lifts the corners of Y/N’s swollen lips. “I suppose so. But it’s not hard to be, in comparison to others…”

“Well, from now on, you’re going to be comparing to me, yeah?” Harry shifts his arms around her, tightening his grip before reaching for the crumpled sheet to pull it over their bodies. “This’ll be the marker, I suppose. And I’ll have to work on raising the bar with everything I do for you.”

“What about what I’ll do for you?” Y/N just barely manages to raise her head off Harry’s chest enough to look at him. “This is a two way street, you know. I have to romance you, too.”

“Mm. True.” Harry hums as he resumes tracing patterns on Y/N’s skin. “How about you stop making fun of my taste in romantic movies? I’d like to watch The Notebook without you poking fun at it. If you’re laughing at all the emotional scenes, it makes me feel pathetic when I cry at them.”

Y/N laughs quietly as she rakes her fingers through Harry’s sweaty curls. “That’s asking too much from me. How about…I can still make fun of your taste in romantic movies, but I’ll hold you and comfort you when you cry at the really dumb scenes?”

An exhausted snort rolls through Harry’s chest, but there’s a degree of tenderness hidden in the sound. “I suppose that’s the best offer I’ll get, isn’t it?”

“You suppose right.” Y/N sighs contently, her eyes drifting shut as she settles herself into Harry’s chest. The feeling of the subtle rise and fall of his muscles is enough to soothe her to sleep, and she’s just settling in for what she thinks may be the best sleep of her life when her head suddenly drops as Harry abruptly pulls away from her.

“Harry—” Y/N’s eyes snap open as she pulls herself into an upright position, any feeling of calm that she had a moment ago gone out the window. “What the fuck?”

A sheepish Harry smiles at her from the dresser. “We left the candles lit, love.” He says, blowing out the three lit candles on the wooden surface before walking to one of the bedside tables, where four more candles are lit. “It’s not safe.”

“No, you know what’s no safe? Jerking your girlfriend from her sleep when she’s exhausted, and has to be up early tomorrow.” Y/N rolls her eyes as she flops back into the pillows.

Harry blows out the last candle before sliding back into the bed. “Would you rather I let the cabin burn down? That wouldn’t be very romantic of me, now would it?”

Turning over on her side, Y/N faces the wall away from Harry. “You’re an asshole.”

“Don’t be mean.” Harry’s pout is tangible in the press of his lips to her bare shoulder. “We were having a moment!”

“Not anymore.”

“You don’t mean that.” Harry laughs as he wraps his arms around Y/N, pulling her to spoon into his chest. “Just go to sleep. You’ll be less grumpy in the morning.”

“Fuck off.” Y/N mutters, but she allows herself to be held against Harry as his breathing once again soothes her to sleep.

…

“Are you sure I can’t drive?”

Harry laughs as he shuts the loaded trunk of the Impala, the sound echoing off the trees around them and scaring a few birds that had settled in the branches. “After that disaster in Nebraska? No way.”

“Did you let her drive Stevie?” Laure asks, shock woven through her voice as her eyes flicker between Y/N and Harry. “Really?”

“No, I let her try to drive Stevie. And then she stalled her, and lost all driving privileges forever.” Harry replies with a snort, shrugging his jacket onto his shoulders as his keys jangle in his hands. “So I’ll be driving the forty-two hours back to L.A.”

Y/N crosses her arms with an irritated sigh. “Whatever. Don’t complain to me when you get stiff from being in one position for eight hours a day.”

As Harry rounds the back of the car, he shoots Y/N a smug grin, walking up behind her to wrap his warm arms around her waist. “But you’ll give me massages, won’t you, baby? I’d really appreciate them…”

“Okay, this is still weird for me.” Jo says slowly, shaking her head as her eyes flicker between their intertwined pose and Laure, who looks equally as bemused. “A week ago, we had to practically beg Harry to drive you, Y/N, and now you’re…?”

“It was bound to happen, wasn’t it?” Harry asks, resting his chin on Y/N’s shoulder with a smirk. “No woman could last five days with me while resisting the Styles charm…”

Y/N shrugs his chin off her shoulder with a snort. “Right.” She scoffs as she unravels his hands from her waist. “The Styles charm. We’ll pretend that’s a thing.”

Harry pouts as Y/N pulls away from him, his arms still outreached and trailing after her. “It is a thing!”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N walks over to Jo, wrapping her arms around the girl tightly as the crisp morning air sends a shiver down her spine. “Congratulations, Jo. Have fun on your honeymoon.”

Although Jo hugs her back with a smile, there’s something lingering under the sweet expression. “Thank you.” She speaks in her normal tone, but waits until her lips are right by Y/N’s ear to lower her voice. “The moment you arrive back in L.A., I expect a three hour phone call explaining how all of this happened. Is that understood?”

“You’re so demanding. I would have thought you’d be more mature now that you’re married.” Y/N laughs as she pulls out of the hug, turning to Laure and giving her a tight squeeze before walking to the car. She leans against the cool metal of the passenger side as Harry rounds around to the driver’s side, having said his goodbyes right after she did.

“I’m serious! The last time we talked about Harry, you threatened to cut off his—”

Laure takes Jo’s hand, squeezing it hard as she bites her lip to keep from laughing. “Okay, darling, that’s enough. Just be thankful they’re not arguing anymore, yeah? Maybe we’ll finally be able to have a wine night that doesn’t end with someone flipping a charcuterie board.”

The memory of Laure and Jo’s four year anniversary party brings a sheepish smile to Y/N’s face, and she watches as the realization hits Jo, who gives a satisfied nod to Laure before the latter presses her lips to her cheek.

Harry, however, is less amused, and shoots a questioning glance at Y/N over the hood of the car. “Wait, when did you threaten to cut something of mine off?”

“Oh, it was just a joke, Harry.” Y/N waves off his concern as she opens the passenger door with a click. “It’s nothing you have to worry about, as long as you don’t piss me off too much.”

“Right.” Harry says slowly, climbing inside the car as Y/N does the same. “I’ll do my best.”

Harry starts the car with an easy and practiced motion, shifting it into reverse and pulling away from the mountainside resort as the two of them give one last wave to Jo and Laure through the passenger window. Once they’re back on the winding mountain road, Y/N grabs Harry’s phone from its usual spot in his cup holder, scrolling through his music library with interest.

“What do you feel like listening to?” She asks curiously, her eyes scanning over the now familiar titles indecisively. “Something fast? Something mellow?”

Harry shifts the car into second gear before grabbing Y/N’s free hand, brushing his pink lips over the back of her knuckles in a gentle motion. “I don’t really care.” He says with a shrug, winding his fingers through her own before lowering their hands between their seats. “Anything you want.”

The comment of free reign causes Y/N’s eyes to widen in disbelief. “Really?” She asks incredulously, and when Harry gives a confirming nod, she quickly settles on “Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” leaning back in her seat as the familiar guitar riff fills the car.

From the corner of her eye, she watches Harry’s nose wrinkle as his eyebrows crease beneath his sunglasses. “Actually, I changed my mind.” He says lowly, swiping his thumb over her knuckles in a motion of apology. “Not this song.”

Y/N lets out a groan as she presses her head back into the head rest. “For fuck’s sake, H—”

“I’m not feeling it! It just doesn’t suit this time of day, or this scenery—”

“We have forty-two hours left in this trip, and you’re already pissing me off. Do you want something to get cut off?” Yanking her hand from his own, she grabs his phone again and opens it with a harsh sigh. “Okay, what do you want to listen to?”

“I told you.” Harry taps his fingers against the steering wheel as he risks a glance at her, gauging if the irritation in her voice matches the irritation on her face. “Whatever you want to listen to.”

Y/N allows herself a quiet snort, but makes no other comment on the contradictory statement. “Fine.” She says shortly, scrolling through his songs for another moment before clicking on “Strangers”. “How’s that?”

Harry raises his now empty hand defensively before finding her own again, squeezing it gently. “Good, love. It’s good.”

“Good.” Y/N gives a short sigh of relief, settling back into her seat again as a new guitar riff begins to sound through the car speakers.

The first verse of the song has barely finished when Harry clears his throat thickly, the corner of his lip just barely twitching up. “You know, actually—”

“Stop the car.”

5K notes · View notes

threewaysdivided · 2 years

Note

I'm struggling to nail down Tucker’s personality. I need him to act slightly out of character in a way that suggests he's upset but I can't even get him regular

Hmmm… that’s an interesting challenge and I think there’s kind of two questions wrapped up in one. 1) What makes Tucker a Tucker? and 2) How might you convey that a character is upset (especially if that character is Tucker)?

Let’s explore shall we?

Time to talk Tuck’

Disclaimer: I haven’t done a detailed re-watch of DP in quite a while so I may be a little fuzzy on some details, and canon has its share of inconsistencies and rather significant gaps that sort of require a dash of ‘reading into’ to bridge. I’m not trying to codify a definitive ‘One True Tucker’ here, this is just my personal go-to reading of him.

To start with, let’s look at some of Tucker’s obvious surface-level traits:

He’s a technology geek, to the point of naming his PDAs and grieving them when they break.

He’s food-focussed and extremely carnivorous, so much so that he complains about missing meals, can tell meats apart by smell and gets sick if he eats something too vegetable/plant-heavy.

He likes pretty girls and frequently flirts with/ asks new girls out in passing.

That’s something, but those don’t really say much about actual character. As a favourite author of mine might say, not a picture of a life as much as a thumbnail sketch. And in isolation there are a veritable army of creepy, sleezy “Hollywood Nerd” characters with the same traits - peak example being the Big Bang Theory boys, who (while maybe kind of pitiable) I wouldn’t exactly call likeable or sympathetic or good, or even funny. So why isn’t he like this?

What is the soul of a Tucker?

If you’re looking for comparisons to other characters, the main three that come to mind for me are Ron Stoppable from Disney’s Kim Possible, the Wally West version of the Flash from the 2001 Justice League/ JL Unlimited cartoon and I can’t believe I’m saying this for all of Tumblr dot com to see Donkey from Shrek.

Okay let me explain, especially that last one.

To me, Tucker reads as a very sincere and self-actualised character, and that’s part of why he’s lovable. Ron, Flash and (sigh, yes) Donkey have character traits that could be really aggravating or even unlikable (in fact, I would argue that Donkey is intentionally written to aggravate Shrek) but there’s an earnestness to these character that makes them endearing instead of annoying. (Go watch Sideways’ video about the musical structure of Shrek and Donkey’s role in it). There’s also a degree of self-awareness and self-acceptance in all these characters; on some level they (and the narrative) are aware of themselves as flawed- that they aren’t perfect and that people can find them annoying - they don’t necessarily see themselves as the top dog in the room and they sincerely admire and respect other characters around them. That’s probably part of why the Big Bang boys don’t work; they’re not written to have any introspection beyond whiney self-pity and the show has a cynical and slightly mean sense of humour that constantly pits them against each other in insincere games of one-upmanship.

Of the main Team Phantom Trio, Tucker is probably the most sincerely optimistic and self-actualised. Danny gets down on himself a lot in a very self-critical way, and Sam can come across as extremely defensive, but by comparison Tucker seems kind of content to just be who he is.

I have no idea if this was consciously in the minds of the writers but not for nothing I think there’s a reason why Angeline and Maurice Foley are the most normal and unconditionally loving parents we actually see in the show. Sam’s parents are extremely conditional; generously you could say that there’s conflict between their love for her and them having a very narrow/ outdated/ judgemental/ image-focussed model of ‘success’ which she doesn’t fit, but you could equally read them as seeing her more as an extension of themselves/ their reputation/ their ambitions than her own person. Danny, meanwhile, very often reads to me as being the less-favourite Fenton child, even before the portal accident and having to deal with their pervasive hatred toward half of himself. Jazz is extremely gifted and I think she sort of set the standard for Maddie and Jack kids-wise, and at times Jack seems to have wanted a son who would be just like him… and while they do still love Danny, sometimes it feels like it’s in spite of him not being another Jazz or miniature Jack, rather than loving him for being Danny.

You can kind of see it in how the trio react to things - Sam sees a world that rejects her and gets angry at the injustice, sets out to make that world acknowledge her value; Danny sees a world that rejects him and takes it as evidence of his own inadequacy, worries that he needs to change himself in hopes of becoming ‘good enough’. Meanwhile, Tucker seems to have grown up in a household where he was loved and accepted and valued for who he was, unconditionally. Sure, it sucks that the jocks target him, it sucks that people don’t see him as cool, he would like to be more popular, and if a girl wanted to say ‘yes’ he certainly wouldn’t say ‘no’… but at the same time he doesn’t show much interest in forcing other people to change, and he also doesn’t express any significant desire to change himself or stop being the way he is. He’s self-actualised and capable of self-love in a way that the others aren’t, and he brings a needed internal stability to the trio because of it.

Tucker also tends to talk himself up more than he talks himself down. Personally I read him doing that with at least a dash of irony (see that post about how sarcastic positive self-talk is a better habit than self-loathing commentary). But again, that earnestness. I don’t think he sees himself as being as important/ attractive/ special as he puts on… or at the very least he respects other characters to the same degree. Self-actualisation isn’t just about thinking you’re awesome, it’s about accepting yourself and others as you are, flaws included, and of the three Tucker is the most comfortable in his own skin. He’s okay with being goofy and dorky and unapologetically into food and tech, making cheesy quips and geeky references. It also makes it hilariously fitting that a convention-goer being turned into a werewolf-furry during Reality Trip is not at all a deal-breaker for him.

Which isn’t to say that Tucker is a perfect or purely honest, naïve sunshine character. He still lies (even though he’s often bad at it), he has his share of insecurities and phobias (hospitals and sick bays are his kryptonite), he still has moments of selfishness, he can be jealous and stubborn and petty and… yeah a little bit creepy with the girl thing sometimes. Although in defence of the girl thing, we do have to acknowledge that Elmer Hartman’s works have pervasive patterns of sexism and toxic masculinity I mean, penname “Butch”, what did we expect? and, while I think the other DP writers are less egregious and more skilled as storytellers, a lot of their non-Hartman work end up being on shows like Family Guy which have the same sort of issues. It can be hard to distinguish between a character being intentionally written a certain way and the show just thinking that “the swimsuit edition”, “perving in the women’s lockers”, “ha ha he’s in a bra” and “any girl who actually enjoys being feminine is a shallow, capital-B Witch” are acceptable as jokes. And, to Tucker’s credit, he doesn’t usually react angrily or with entitlement when he gets turned down, and he doesn’t get up to any of the kind of creepy techno-geek stalker-ism that Big Bang and similar would pass off as “just boys being boys”. He might not enjoy hearing it but Tucker can respect a firm ‘no’ without taking it too personally (most of the time). This is one of the reasons I think he’s closer to JL/JLU’s Flash!Wally rather than YJS1’s Kid Flash!Wally. I like KF a lot as a character but he can be rather pushy and wilfully obtuse when Miss Martian is very obviously not giving him a yes. Flash meanwhile gets shut down by Big Barda and immediately switches to ‘okay, here’s a flower anyway, let’s be friends’. Like I said in my other post, DP as a show doesn’t treat singlehood/virginity as a deficiency or reason for ridicule (again contrast Big Bang Theory) and that kind of insecure, validation-desperate creepiness doesn’t really appear in his character. Girls are fun and Tucker would like to have fun with them, but if they say no then that’s okay - he’ll keep looking until he finds someone who can properly appreciate how “Too Fine” he is. Plus I’m not actually sure he’d know what to do if he got a ‘yes’ - sometimes it feels like he’s more enamoured with the chase or the idea of having the affections of a girl than with a specific girl or having a girlfriend. (Not helped by underdeveloped female characters, but on the other hand, very convincing teen-just-figuring-this-out behaviour).

That said, things have changed for Tucker and he deals with more than just girl woes during the series. He and Danny are basically honorary brothers (so close that they’re completely comfortable falling asleep on top of each other); they grew up together, shared everything with each other and kept each other company on the bottom rung of the loser ladder. But now Danny has superpowers; he’s a hero, a somebody, a person people want to be around… and Tucker is left wondering whether he brings anything worthwhile anymore and if maybe he’s getting left behind. Tucker’s jealousy/ insecurity over this is a character beat that crops up a couple of times throughout the show - @redrobin-detective wrote a really good post about it which articulates things far better than I could.

Going a little into headcanon territory, I think Danny and Tucker kind of mirror each other in that regard; neither can quite internalise how valuable they themselves are to their friends. Tucker is incredibly talented with technology but, in his eyes, how can that compare to an heiress and a literal superhero? Meanwhile, in Danny eyes, Tucker is smart and skilled, Sam is passionate and driven, and then there’s him; the disappointing 'dumb' Fenton with annoying, inconvenient, life-disrupting freaky powers that he got from a complete accident. They don’t necessarily see themselves clearly, and they tend to downplay their own worth relative to the people they respect.

As for making Tucker feel authentically Tucker-ish in terms of actual writing, dialogue and word-choice, I’m not sure I can give much helpful advice. My approach is to reference the source material and/or fics that captured it really well until I can get an intuitive grasp of his specific patterns. Mystery Meat, One of a Kind, What You Want, Doctors Disorders and King Tuck are all episodes with some good Tucker-centric reference scenes if you don’t have the time for a full watch-through.

Now, with that as a foundation, let’s take a look at question 2.

Portraying that a character is upset

This is a little complicated because ‘upset’ can cover a lot of things, and the reasons why and way in which a character is upset can do a lot to change how they’re behaving.

Are they Afraid? Worried? Depressed? Ashamed? Resentful? Dealing with trauma? Maybe they’re angry, or that anger is hiding something else; a mask for fear or shame or sorrow.

Are they trying to hide that they’re upset, hoping no-one notices because they don’t want to talk about it? Are they secretly hoping someone notices? Maybe they want it to be obvious? Or maybe they don’t care what people see.

All of these things will subtly influence the details but there still are some common signs you can use. As you said, an upset character will often act in ways that are not typical of them - that can feel “out of character”.

Sometimes there are behavioural disruptions, especially if the character is stressed/ distressed. They might be more tired because they’re not sleeping well - maybe because of nightmares or insomnia. They could also show a loss of appetite; forgetting to eat, becoming disinterested in food and only picking at food when it’s given to them.

Some characters respond to upset by withdrawing - they might find excuses to pull away, especially if they’re trying to hide it. Other characters go the opposite direction, overcompensating by becoming too outgoing, bubbly, busy, happy etc. in a “fake it ‘til you make it” kind of way.

Emotional distress can cause a person to seem preoccupied, distracted by their own thoughts or troubles. This can manifest in a lack of interest in their usual hobbies, struggling to pay attention or remember things, or a general lack of focus.

There’s also just general mood stuff, which will depend on the way in which they are upset and whether they’re trying to hide it. A character who is angry/ resentful might get more passive-aggressive or mean in their snarky-ness, make comments under their breath or be outright hostile if they don’t care who knows it. A character who’s upset at themself might make more self-depreciating remarks than usual, be faster to diminish their own achievements. A character who’s anxious might fret noticeably, run through decisions in conversation or try to keep it to themselves but start increasingly checking and cross-checking things. A character who is sad or depressed might show a general tiredness, pessimism, or apathy towards things that they’d usually be enthused or passionate about.

As mentioned, anger can sometimes be a mask for deeper issues so watch out if a character becomes defensive or cross about things - that can be a sign that there’s something else going on that they’re insecure/ ashamed about.

When it comes to Tucker, some things that would ring warning bells for me would be a lack of interest (or outright disinterest) in his usual hobbies, as well as him going from optimistic/sincere to more pessimistic/cynical.

Food especially would be a big sign since not only can appetite-loss be a general sign that someone is struggling, but Tucker in particular is usually very food focussed so it would pull double-duty as a loss of interest. Similarly, he might be distracted to the point of not noticing some big new tech thing that he’d usually be very enthusiastic about, and if he were in a particularly bad mood he could get angry at someone who tries to use it to distract him. Tucker doesn’t always notice every pretty girl on the street but if a whole group were to walk past with nary a look from him then that could signal preoccupation.

If he’s trying to hide that he’s upset, he could overcompensate in the opposite direction - playing up the happy-go-lucky food and tech-focus until he’s almost a caricature of himself in a way that weirds the others out.

Tucker is also a very chatty and bubbly character so him going quiet or withdrawing could also signal something’s wrong (although you could also play this one for comedy Spiderman-style by having everyone freak out worrying that something’s wrong when really he just has a sore throat). If he’s trying to hide it, perhaps he might come up with a plausible excuse, such as burying himself in some big tech project so that he doesn’t have to talk to people or deal with the problem.

Him suddenly becoming very pessimistic, negative or mean in his comments/ sarcasm would a very obvious warning bell that something’s eating at him, and specifically that he’s probably angry/ resentful about whatever it is.

Like I said, the specifics will depend on what he’s upset about and how it’s making him feel.

Tucker is kind of funny like that; he’s simultaneously a very simple character and yet very nuanced in his particular form of sincere simplicity. He wears his heart on his sleeve and this means you can usually get a sense of what he’s feeling even when he tries to hide it.

Hope this helps.

#Danny Phantom #Tucker Foley #Character Analysis #scattered thoughts #youmaycallmeyourhigness #3WD Answers #sorry this was extremely late in answering #I have just been dead on my feet doing house stuff and also getting BrainRot over a show that will not be named

90 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

captaincharmer

captain charmer

your-local-grinning-cat

Oh dear. It seems I’m not all here…

her-ass-stank

Browneye Flavor, Bootyhole Aroma

wavesketcher-sq

Regina Mills; Rainbow Maker

ghostpepper-at-midnight

Ghostpepper@midnight