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#i mean i'm still around and i answer asks sometimes
pantherxrogers · 1 day
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Coucou j’ai une requête une histoire d’Ateez sortant avec une fille plus petite mais vraiment plus petite (5,3) qu’eux . Please 🥹
bf!ateez dating a shorter reader
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🐰 pairing: ot8 x gn!reader
🐰 warnings: kissing, a little suggestive, extremely fluffy, not proofread
🐰 summary: what each member of ateez would be like if they have a shorter s/o
🐰 a/n: i don't usually write about height, so this was a challenge lmao. thank you for your request bby! i hope i answered it correctly. i used google translate, so i hope it was correct 😅
also! i used lowercase for this one. it feels appropriate for a headcanon lmao. let me know if y'all prefer this or sentence case!
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seonghwa
as one of the taller members, seonghwa is used to helping out shorter people
it’s in his nature to nurture, so he uses his height to your advantage
he’s particularly useful when you’re in the kitchen, helping you reach anything on the top shelves
that being said, he feels like his heart is going to stop when he sees you jumping up on the counter to reach the bowls
“ah, hold on, honey. let me get that for you.” you pretend to be annoyed but secretly love how much he dotes on you
"thank you, 'hwa," you stand on your tip toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek
he's happy to help with no reward, but he's a sucker for the way you dote on him afterwards
hongjoong
given that he’s already on the shorter side, there isn’t much difference between the two of you
you don’t mind his height, it makes that all the more easier for you to love on him
you’re quick to wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing a quick kiss to his cheeks, causing a subtle blush to spread across his face
he is still slightly taller than you, so he likes to remind you of that sometimes
when you guys take selfies, he likes to hold the camera up a little higher to exaggerate the difference lmao
the other members often tease him about how you guys are perfect for each other, even down to the height
they really do mean it though, you guys are like magnets when you’re together
yunho
it’s no secret that yunho is the tallest member, always standing out in a crowd
whenever he goes in for a kiss, he practically folds himself in half to meet you. sometimes you scold him for his dramatics, but he doesn't want you to put in extra work
he loves picking you up randomly?? like whenever he sees you walking around the apartment, he will literally swoop you up and put you over his shoulder
it never fails to catch you off guard, but you'd be lying if you said you don't enjoy it
unlike seonghwa, he likes to tease you a little bit before he decides to help you reach things
sometimes he'll purposefully put things on the top shelf so you'll have to ask him to get it
"yunho, why is MY apron on the top shelf?" you huff, playfully rolling your eyes at him
"oh, that was YOUR apron?" he's terrible at playing innocent, but you find it adorable anyway
yeosang
like hongjoong, he's not the tallest member
still, there's a couple inches between the pair of you
he actually doesn't think much of it all, never being concerned with things like that
he just loves being around you and being as close to you as possible
we all know yeosang loves his sleep, and he's always firm on being the bigger spoon
"babe, i'm col-" before you can even get the words out, he's wrapping himself around you, cuddling into your neck
you're grateful that he isn't too much taller than you, often joking that he's the perfect sized body pillow
as soon as you're intertwined, he's usually out like a light within minutes. like literally.
san
san loooooooves being taller than you
not because he's superficial but because doting on you is actually his favorite thing in the world
unlike yunho and seonghwa, he can actually be a little overwhelming with how much he wants to help out
"san, i don't need you to get the milk. it's only on the second shelf, honey," you explain, softly patting his back from behind.
"oh, i don't mind. here you go, baby," he smiles, handing you the milk and kissing the top of your head.
you chuckle to yourself, knowing that this is just the way san is
he's never condescending when he helps you out, he really just can't help but spoil you in every way possible
mingi
mingi never really thought too much about his height before he started dating you
but now, you remind him of it all the time
not to be annoying, but you loooove that he towers over you
it's even more attractive that he never makes a big deal out of it
"mingiiiiii," you pout up at him, puckering dramatically for a kiss
"oh, sorry, baby," he hums, before leaning down to meet your lips. you're quick to loop your arms behind his neck, making it easier for him to scoop you up.
but now that he knows the effect his height has on you, sometimes he like to play into your hand
when you call him into the bathroom, he makes a show of leaning against the doorframe, his tall figure filling up the space. your words trail off, laser-focused on him and the way he crowds the space.
"yes, jagi?" he smirks, flexing his arms slightly, "i'll help you out, don't worry."
let's just say that he helps you out, buuuuut it might not be with what you actually called him in there for
wooyoung
wooyoung is so bratty about being taller than you lmao
(affectionate) teasing is his love language, which he amplifies when he's with you
"oop, watch out, babe!" he makes a show of steadying himself, "i didn't see you there!" he exclaims, loving the way you roll your eyes at his antics.
"woo, not this again," you sigh, nudging off the hand he used to pat the top of your head.
his laugh is over the top, but he's quick to soothe you with a soft kiss. "i'm just joking, baby," he hums, wrapping you in a hug. he brings a hand under your chin, coaxing you to make eye contact with him. "you know i love you just the way you are, right?" the sincerity in his voice makes your heart flutter. you nod at him, afraid of what your voice will sound like if you speak.
instead, you press your lips to his. you've never doubted his love for you. and you never will.
jongho
again, there's only a few inches between y'all
but let's not count jongho out! he loves doting on you too, even if he doesn't want to admit it out loud
now jongho really could not care less about height, but you like to boost his ego sometimes
"bear, do you mind grabbing my purse from the top rack?" you hum from the closet.
"of course, baby," he hums proudly, stretching his arms to grab your handbag. he holds onto it, puckering his lips in return.
you press a loud smack to his lips, giggling at his dopey little smile
"thank you, bear," you purr, going back in for more.
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hathorneheiress · 12 hours
Text
Midnight cuddles
Avery's POV
The wind howled fiercely as the doors to my outside patio shook with each gust of wind.
Hurricane Ivy was surely making her mark in meteorology history. of that I was confident.
Living in Connecticut almost all my life, I wasn't used to the extreme weather with now living in Texas.
Pulling the oversized comforter tighter around me I tried to relax in the very comfortable king-sized bed. Jameson had disappeared. Again.
The fact that my boyfriend disappeared once almost every 2 weeks wasn't too concerning. He always came back.
But tonight was different. The wild storm playing outside the doors did nothing to calm my nerves as I tried, and failed, to calm myself that Jameson was perfectly fine. Wearever the hell he was. My boyfriend lived for danger and thrills. Risks and dares were a second language to him. And I'd have to admit, sometimes for myself.
And then, as if summoned by some unholy magic, Jameson walked in soaked from head to toe.
"Are you alright?" I asked immediately sitting up.
"Are you actually worried about me?" Jameson Hawthorne flashed me his signature smirk.
"Of course I am." I replied indignantly. "If you weren't so reckless I wouldn't have to worry so much."
"But I thought that is what you liked about me Heiress?"
"You being stupid?"
"No. My fearlessness."
"Oh you're fearless alright."
"But the question is are you fearless Heiress?" He gave a devilish smile as he advanced toward the bed.
"Very. But don't you dare get on the bed all soaked. I don't feel like getting wet.
Jameson gave a fake pout.
I giggled. "Get changed, then we'll see."
A few minutes Jameson came back with no shirt and just dark blue sweat pants. His hair was stick dripping wet, but he was longer criminally close to get everything wet.
Crawling up beside me, he snaked his lanky arm around my waist pulling me in. I allowed it.
"So, where were you?" I had to ask.
"Went for a walk."
"In the rain?"
"Sometimes I need to do that."
"You can always talk to me if you need to."
"I know." He squeezed me while kissing me on the cheek. "You smell good."
"And you smell like rain and dirt."
"So I'm guessing I don't smell good."
"Not really. But that's ok. I still love you." It was my turn to kiss him.
"And I love you too."
"Really? Even when I annoy you?"
"You never annoy me."
I gave him a look.
"Ok, maybe a little. But I mean it Heiress. I love you. And it's not just for you're looks or smart brain. I love you're determination and willingness to help others. To stand up for yourself and pure heart. And mostly for putting up with me."
He paused for a breath and I took that moment to pull him in and passionately kiss him. He returned it heartily. Running my hand through his hair we stayed there for several minutes.
So invested we were that we didn't hear the sound of a camera going off. Looking up in shock we saw Xander standing there with his phone out.
"What are you doing in here?!" Jameson was outraged. "There is something called knocking."
"I did. No one answered. And I can see why." Xander gave a smirk.
"What do you need?" I wanted smack Xander so hard.
"I was seeing Jameson was finally home. Nash was worried about him. I see he is. I have proof."
"Don't you dare." Jameson looked like he was going to murder Xander.
"Dare what?" he asked innocently. "Send this to Nash and Grayson? Opps! I did!"
Jameson was up in an instant. "Alexander Blackwood Hawthorne! You get back here right now!" He threatened as Xander ran out of the room in top speed.
As mortified as I should have been, I wasn't. I laughed falling back on the pillows.
Just another night at Hawthorne House.
This is for all the AveryJameson fans out there.
Scroll down for a funny bonus part with all the brothers.
Bonus part
Nash's phone dinged five times.
"what the heck?" He thought. It was 12 in the morning. Grayson would never text him this late and Jameson usually was with Avery. So he guessed it must have come from Xander. And he was right.
He was greeted with a very in criminating photo of Avery and Jameson passionately kissing. Underneath Xander wrote:
"Jameson is home!"
"With Avery!"
"I found them like this"
Nash shook his head. There was no privacy in Hawthorne House. Ironic, since it was a massive place.
He replied. "Xander, get out of there. That is none of you're business."
A text quickly came back.
Xander: "Help!! Jameson is going to murder me!"
He mush have sent it as a group text because a text from Grayson came through.
"Good for him. Saves me from doing it."
Xander: "NOT NICE!!!"
"Alright, you 2 stop." Even texting Nash was having to keep them from killing each other.
"Xander deserves it!" Jameson had now joined the chat.
Xander: "I do not! I promise I didn't send it to anyone else.. Stop chasing me.
Grayson: You're texting while running?
Xander: YES"
Grayson: Stop being stupid.
Jameson: Yeah Xander. Stop doing stupid things.
Grayson: I was talking to both of you."
Nash decided he needed to join in before it got any worse.
Nash: ALRIGHT! You all stop. Jameson stop chasing Xander. Xander stop taking photos of people without their permission. And Grayson.. well, stop making things worse by being yourself.
Grayson: I'm going to pretend you didn't just insult me. I'm leaving.
Jameson: Good! We didn't want you here anyways.
Nash: Jamie shut up.
Jameson was quiet, so Nash guessed he finally gave up with Xander.
Just another night at Hawthorne Hous
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sp1rit-realm · 4 hours
Text
༻¨*:· 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 ·:*¨༺
༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 remus is used to the same day, and then you come into his life.
༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 please give me some grace. i havent written a full on fic in... a hot second 𖦹 record shop owner!remus x fem!reader (she/her prns) 𖦹 sirius uses he/they prns 𖦹 also. reader moves to england so she doesnt have british accent. yeah. 𖦹 lily evans being the best 𖦹 FLUFF (everyone cheered!) 𖦹 [brief] ANGST (everyone cried!) 𖦹 not proofread
༻¨*:· words ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 2.7k
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Routine—a very familiar word to Remus. His days were the same. Wake up, go to work, go home, shower, then sleep. He ate the same thing for breakfast and the same thing for lunch. Dinner was the only thing he frequently changed—maybe one day, he would have pasta, and the next, he would have chicken. He hung out with friends on Saturday, and they went to the same pub every time. The topics were usually the same. Sirius met someone new, someone they claimed to be "The One," only for that person to leave their life. James usually talked about training, Lily, and updates on her pregnancy. Since school ended, things had become... predictable.
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You walked into the rickety old record shop, intent on finding your favorite album. It broke on the move to the UK, and you needed it desperately. 
Upon hearing the bell ring, Remus looked up. It was part of his routine—to see who had entered his shop—and there you stood, tote bag in hand with messy, windblown hair.
After searching through the Rock section for ages, you practically squeal when you see the album.
Remus looks up as you walk to the counter, "Hi." 
"Hi," You smile. Your accent throws Remus off, and he smiles. 
He looks at the record, then puts it down, "We have this in a white vinyl," He says, "I— I didn't mark it as colored, so you probably didn't see it. I can go grab it for you?"
You eagerly nod, "That would be fantastic!"
He stands, and you realize how tall he is—it's like he's towering over you.
A moment later, he returns with the other record, "They're hard to come by," He scrawls something on the record sheet, then rings up the album.
You thank him and pay, leaving him to wonder if you'll be back.
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The next time you see him, he's with a pretty girl. She's got bleached blonde hair and a cute button nose. She's beautiful. Of course, you recognize the tall man—how could you not? He and the girl make their way to the counter; they both order.
"For Remus," A woman calls out. 
Remus—that's his name.
Remus steals glances at you the entire time he's at the coffee shop.
"Who's that?" Marlene asks with a coy smirk.
"I don't know. Came into the shop a couple of weeks ago."
"Oh, so you have a little crush." Marlene is full-on smirking now.
Remus goes red, "What? No." He shakes his head, "No," He repeats, trying to reassure himself that he doesn't have feelings for you.
"Sure," Marlene mutters, taking a sip of her drink.
Remus rolls his eyes.
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About a month passes by until you see one another again. You walk into the shop. Remus looks up when the bell rings, and he smiles.
Sirius is there today, and they go up to you.
"What're you looking for?" 
You answer, and he leads you to the section as if you don't know the alphabet. He doesn't mean it that way, you know that. 
Still, you tease them about it, and their face goes stark red, "Sorry. I just— Sometimes record shops can be confusing in how they order things. Like, when it goes from 'C' to 'D,' does the 'D' section continue on the other side, or does it continue straight across? You know?" 
"I'm kidding around," You smile, "I've been here before. Granted, it was just once, but I know how it works. Thank you, though."
"But of course," Sirius curtsies, "Anything for you..."
"Y/n," You introduce yourself.
"I'm Sirius. Like the star," He clarifies, "Like, that's my name. S-i-r-i-u-s," They spell out.
You giggle, "Nice to meet you, Sirius."
"Nice to meet you. I love your silly accent, by the way."
"You're the one with the silly accent," You shoot back.
"Not when my accent is outnumbering yours."
You tilt your head and hum, "Strangely, I understand what you mean."
"It'd be concerning if you didn't."
"Do you frequent this shop a lot?" You ask, flipping through albums.
"My friend is the owner." Sirius shrugs.
You perk up, "Remus?"
Sirius quirks their brow, "You know him?"
You get hot, "No."
He narrows his eyes, "So, how do you know his name is Remus?"
"Well," You whisper, "I came in a while ago. He was really nice when I checked out. Then, a couple of weeks later, I saw him at a coffee shop, and they said his name when his drink was ready."
"You're a creep," Sirius raises his eyebrows.
"No!" You argue.
"Such a creep." Sirius begins walking away; you rush to follow him, "I'm telling him." He says.
You begin to panic, "Wait! No!" 
Sirius keeps walking to the front.
"Sirius," You whine, "Stop!"
"Remus!"
You silently will him to stop.
"Remus!" Sirius calls again.
"Lovely lady over here has something to tell you," He smirks.
If looks could kill, Sirius would be six feet under.
"I just– um–" You sputter out, "I just wanted to thank you for helping me with the record last time I was here."
You swear he blushes, but you don't want to look to find out.
"It was no problem," He smiles, "Maybe I could give you a call if any of their other records come in?"
Sirius smirks from the sidelines.
"Um..." It takes a moment to process, "Sure." You nod assertively, "Yeah. I would love that!"
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Remus's world has turned upside down—you keep him on his toes. He stays up because, maybe, you'll call tonight. You eat lunch with him sometimes, and gone are the days when he eats the same thing every day. Gone are the days when he closes up shop at 7:00. Gone is routine.
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"Do you want to have dinner tonight?" You ask, wrapping the cord around your finger.
"I'm actually going out," Remus responds. You frown, and your imagination runs wild. What if he's going on a date?
"Hello?" He asks, and you realize you've blocked him out.
"Huh? Sorry?"
"I asked if you wanted to come with me. You can meet my mates. If you want." He spits out. Saying it once is nerve-wracking enough; saying it twice is terrifying because what if you say no? What if you don't want to meet his friends? What if–
"I'd love to!" You cut his frantic thoughts off, and his heart swells.
"Really?" He asks.
"Of course!"
So, now, you're standing in front of a random pub, wondering if he's pranking you. It's been about five minutes, and you know that's not a long time to wait, but your anxiety is getting the better of you. 
Then, five turns to fifteen, and you're wondering how pathetic you look.
"Y/n?"
Your head whips to the door, "Sirius? When'd you get here?"
Sirius checks their wrist like they're checking a watch, "'Bout half an hour ago. Did the dimwit not tell you to meet us inside?"
You shake your head, "He said to meet him at the bar. So, I guess he didn't quite specify." You shrug.
"Well, come on in," He holds the door open for you.
You thank Sirius and look around for Remus. He's not hard to spot, and Sirius jogs over to their booth before whispering something into Remus's ear. He looks up and smiles brightly.
"You're here!" He exclaims.
"You're here." You say, tone almost scolding him. 
Sirius whispers something else to him.
His face drops, "Oh... sorry for not telling you to meet us inside." His mouth quirks to one side in a guilty expression.
You smile, "It's okay. I forgive you." You sit next to him.
"Oh, thank god," He rests his hand on his chest, "A pretty girl being mad at me would've been my death."
Heat blossoms in your chest.
"So..." James begins, "Now that flirt time is over, can I say hello?"
"Ha!" Sirius barks out, "Flirt time!"
Remus gets warm, "This is James, another one of my school friends. James, this is y/n."
All James says is: "You're his lock screen, y'know?"
Remus kicks him under the table.
"I mean–" James smiles, "Hello, it's nice to meet you. I have never seen your face before."
"Smooth," Sirius whispers to James.
You smile at Remus's red face.
"Ignore him, please?" He begs.
You nod.
Sirius and James tell you embarrassing stories about Remus for the rest of the night, and the boy starts to regret introducing you to them as a pair.
 At the end of the night, he drops you off. 
Rubbing his face, he sighs, "I hope they weren't too much."
You smile brightly, and Remus feels like he could fall to his knees, "I had an amazing time. They're really fun, Remus."
You leave him with a kiss on the cheek—he puts his hand up to the spot and smiles the whole way home.
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"I've missed you," You say into the phone.
"I've missed you, too. You should just let me come over." Remus begs for the umpteenth time.
"I don't want to get you sick," You frown, "That would be horrible."
"It wouldn't be the end of the world. We could quarantine together," He smirks, "I could make you soup, and we could cuddle together on the couch and watch some ridiculous rom-com."
"Take a girl out on a date first!" You joke.
"I would if you weren't so busy being poorly." Remus groans.
"So you're asking me out on a date?" You smile and do a little happy dance.
"I guess I am."
He's smug, and you can tell.
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A week later, you sit in a fancy restaurant—the kind where the prices aren't even on the menu. Remus is fidgety. He's wearing his nicest button-down, and you think it looks funny on him. He gets red at your comment and looks down at the table with pursed lips.
"I just meant that I'm so used to you wearing those comfy sweaters. You look good, though." You earnestly smile at him.
"You look nice tonight, yourself."
"Well, I'm going on a date with this charming boy. I wanted to impress him."
"I hear he's very impressed."
You insist on paying, but he won't let you. As soon as you pull out your wallet, he snatches it from you.
He kisses you before leaving you at your car, and you don't want it to stop. It's soft and tender, and it's everything you hoped it would be. 
One date turns to two, which turns to five, and now you're anxiously pacing in your flat. You're dating Remus; you have been for a few months, and you're not sure when it's an appropriate time to ask the question, but you'll ask tonight. Except Remus doesn't come. He doesn't call, either. 
After an hour of worrying, you call Sirius.
"Hello?" He answers—it's obvious he's high.
"Hi. Do you know where Remus is?"
Sirius laughs, "Right here."
"Can I talk to him?"
You hear rustling as Sirius passes the phone.
"Hello?"
"Remus," You whine.
"Hey there. What's going on?" He's calm—too calm. He's also high.
"You were supposed to come over tonight." You frown—it's a fruitless effort. He can't see you.
"Shit. 'M sorry, baby," He frowns, too. You can hear it.
"'S okay. I was just really looking forward to seeing you." You dramatically slide down your wall into a crouching position.
"I'd come over, but, y'know," He wanders off.
"You're so high you can barely walk?" You offer.
He takes it, "Yes."
"It's alright," You sigh, and Remus feels terrible, "Promise you'll come over tomorrow?"
"Promise," He answers.
But then tomorrow comes, and Remus has yet to show up. So you dial his number, but he doesn't pick up. An hour passes until your phone rings, and you're anxious and giddy and hopeful as you pick it up.
"Sorry." Remus's voice is gruff, and you can hear the guilt in his tone.
"It's okay. You can still come over. It's not too late."
"No," He sighs, "I'm sorry, but I can't... I have to break up with you."
Your face drops with your stomach, "What?"
"I can't be with you. I'm— I'm sorry."
"No!" Tears blur your vision, "You can't just tell me we're over. Explain yourself!"
"I just can't do it anymore. It's too hard."
You choke out a sob, "What's too hard? Loving me?"
"No," He sighs, and he sounds tired, oh so tired, "I'm incapable of giving you what you need."
"And who gets to say what I need?"
"Y/n, for your sake, I'm ending this. I can't provide for you in the way you'll need me to."
"Remus," You sigh, "I don't understand. What do you mean you 'can't provide' for me?"
"I can't emotionally be there for you. I'm sorry." 
And as you hear the dial tone, you let your sobs out.
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You feel empty. Your only friends are Remus's; now you feel like you can't talk to them. 
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"You're daft," Sirius scolds, "Y/n was lovely, and you break up with her over the phone?!"
Remus hangs his head in shame, "Yeah, I did."
Then Remus looked up and was met with one of his worst fears. He'd been on Lily Evans's bad side more than once, but never like this. He'd only seen this stare a handful of times, but not once was it directed at him, until now.
She marches over to the booth, never breaking her stare, leans close to Remus, and slaps him, "You twat!" 
He doesn't know what to say, so he holds his cheek and waits for her to continue.
"You hurt an exceptionally lovely girl for what?! Because you're insecure? Because it was too scary to feel loved so deeply? That girl gave you her all, Remus! And this is how you treat her?" Lily's face is red at the end of her rant, and Sirius tries to hold in their snickers.
Lily narrows her eyes at Remus, "I can read you like a book, Remus Lupin. I know what's going on in that magnificently stupid head of yours! Go apologize to her!"
"I can't," He murmurs, "I've already ruined it."
She rolls her eyes, "You won't know unless you try, and not knowing will eat at you, and you will die confused, sad, and alone."
"She has a point," Sirius agrees, "I mean... we all know you'll just mope around until we push you to talk to her, but by then, it'll be too late. She will have found somebody, and they'll get married, and you'll just be that bloke from when she moved here. Go talk to her."
"What do I say?"
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It's almost midnight when a knocking at your door wakes you. Groaning, you get out of bed and make your way to the door.
You undo the bottom lock, keeping the chain in place.
"Yes?" You peek through the crack, surprised to see Remus holding flowers on the other side.
"I'm sorry."
He thinks he's surely blown it when you close the door, but he hears the chain clanking as you fully unlock it.
"What are you doing here?"
Remus wants to cry at the sight of you. Your eyes are bloodshot and puffy, with red tracing your waterline.
"I—" He has a whole script planned out but seems to have forgotten every word, "I have flowers," He settles on.
"For me?"
He nods.
"What are you doing here?" You ask again, taking the flowers.
"I'm here to apologize. I was a dick the other day."
You tilt your head, "You mean the other day when you broke up with me?"
Remus almost doesn't catch the sarcasm, "I'm sorry. I get so caught up in my head—"
You turn from him, "Come in," You mutter as you walk into your kitchen.
He closes the door behind him and toes his shoes off, "I get scared when I let somebody get too close."
"Tea?"
"Yes, please."
He watches as you move around your kitchen, grabbing cups and boiling the water. He's missed you.
"Why let me get close at all, then?"
"Because I like you."
You turn and look at him, "Do you, now?"
Remus sighs, "Look, I fucked up, I know that. Do you think we can try again?"
You walk over to him, "You said you can't give me what I need. What does that mean, Remus?"
"I'm unfit to be with somebody."
"I don't think so. You were wonderful the past three months. So wonderful that I think, if you work on yourself, we can give this another go."
"Can I kiss you?" He asks, leaning in.
"I look terrible," You laugh.
"No," He rests his forehead against yours, "You're always beautiful."
"Kiss me." 
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hi guys sorry if this is bad😇😇
my lovely mutuals <33 @sepptember @violetteshoneybee @ay0nha @maroon-winestain @prongsio @imabee-oralizard @storyofaromance @queerpumpkinnn @doyouknowwhoyouare13 @zvdvdlvr @reysdriver @g1rld1ary @starsval @vampieteeth @maddipoof @bruisedboys @ell0ra-br3kk3r
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🔥 choose violence ask game 🔥 Secret Shanghai Edition
the character everyone gets wrong
Marshall. He is canonically an excellent cook, s why are we convinced he'd set something on fire if left alone in the kitchen?
a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom
no comment
screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr
EVERY SINGLE DAMN TIME I have seen Alisa and Phoebe shipped (let aroace people live and bisexuals are still bisexual even in a seemingly hetero relationship) or those takes I've seen on TikTok of people shipping Rosalind and Benedikt and Celia and Marshall if I weren't on my computer I would put sooooo many barf emojis here
what was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?
luckily nothing yet I believe
worst discord server and why
mine with my friends its sooo annoying how we have incredibly amazing and intelligent and sometimes incoherent conversations like guys we're the worst (sarcasm)
which ship fans are the most annoying?
like I said, anyone who ships the above things needs to stay 10 feet away from me at all times and undergo intense media literacy training
what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?
I think everyone's answer for this is Oliver. I'm so sorry we (especially me tbh) did you so dirty pre fhh I promise we've learnt our lesson!
common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about
Oliver loves cats. incorrect. Cats are his entire life. there is a difference, and we need to recognize it.
worst part of canon
roma and Alisa's dad just disappeared before I could beat him up
worst part of fanon
we're too funny my stomach literally hurts from laughing too hard sometimes. Seriously though, the above ship takes that make my blood boil, as well as some complaints about how a lot of us talk about how we think certain characters are neurodivergent/disabled. While I think some of those are actually considered canon, I don't understand why people are so made that we (a relatively neurospicy bunch) are identifying the parts of characters we relate to and labeling them. We're doing you no harm and not interfering with your ability to enjoy the characters. Shouldn't it be a good thing that we're able to identify with the characters? Just mind your business. (also anyone who erases Rosalind's and Alisa's aroaceness that is indeed canon and I hope both sides of your pillow are too warm)
number of fandom-related words you've filtered
I don't think any
the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them
I don't think anyone hates these guys, but why don't we ever talk about the couple from LVC? They were so sweet, and I'm kind of sad we didn't get any mention of them in FHH.
worst blorboficiation
I feel like a bad Tumblr user, but I don't know what this means. is this like uwu-ification?
that one thing you see in fics all the time
@typingwithmyhandstied 's GENIUS
that one thing you see in fanart all the time
Juliette always has the appropriate amount of knives thank you very much for that guys :)
you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)
I personally don't get into the Rosalind is a vampire thing, but I'm cheering you guys on from afar (im just not into vampires lol)
there should be more of this type of fic/art
idk I should probably work on my university au
it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...
the fact that not only did she feel comfortable falling asleep around Orion (see one of @no-1-rosalind-lang-apologist 's recent posts) but Rosalind was also muttering in French in that scene. Her dominant language. She was both out of it enough/comfortable enough with him that she dropped the I was raised in American fake accent and just started speaking normally in this essay I will- basically we need to talk more about the use of multilingualism in the ss books
you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...
past me would be horrified to know that I like Oliver now
part of canon you found tedious or boring
I think TVD can be a bit boring sometimes, but that makes sense, since it was Chloe's debut, and she's grown immensely since then
part of canon you think is overhyped
the seagreen trio is overrated (they are literally my favorite characters)
your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores
THE MULTILIGUALISM
ship you've unwillingly come around to
Olivercelia. Like I said, I was his strongest hater pre fhh. Now I see what she clearly sees in him.
topic that brings up the most rancid discourse
discourse on ss Tumblr is mostly joking. my personal favorite is when @marsneedstherapy and I pretend to yell at each other in different languages
common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing
"no one appreciates x enough" I do. I love them.
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can you come back to the fandom please? miss your posts :(
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Sorry, anon, I can't be as active in the fandom due to very important work.
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fionnaskyborn · 6 months
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there's something to be said about the very specific feeling of frailty you feel when you come face to face with just how little you've experienced. twenty-odd years on planet earth and you haven't really watched all that many movies. an unlived life facing an uncertain future. i do not know where to point the finger of blame because i live untethered from my past, floating in the present with no clear point of reference no clear definition of who i am or what happened to me and how i turned out the way i am (fucking. can you guess why five is my favorite game. insert that one lyric from that one modest mouse song.) but you're still here, and you can still learn, and you can catch up, but it still feels like you're a pitiful little nobody looking for excuses trying to explain why you're still new to the whole being alive thing. i've got a good head on my shoulders, though, for all that's worth, so i think i might be fine.
in other news, i watched scarface tonight. it was certainly a movie. don't really understand how the movie made it big, but it did have some damn good music. i mean, i don't know. i'm still learning about the world i live in. maybe it really is as much of a masterpiece as people make it out to be and i'm too dumb to see the reason why it's considered a classic. maybe i'm right. i can't tell at the moment. it's kind of a beggars can't be choosers situation - if you ain't watched that many movies, then you can't really be a good judge of quality. but, oh, well. it's one more movie watched. it's a win because i watched a movie. and i'll watch more movies.
#i mean this extends to things like world politics also i'm still learning and i'm eager to learn beyond what i am offered but that doesn't#make the process any less fucking terrifying. like sure fuck yeah i'll be a big shot and do it alone and i'll be proud of myself but the#thing is i really really really don't know how to be alone without feeling empty#and it's funny because the thing i yearn for the most is to be free and to create myself and do things on my own and i can do that i've#learned how to be an adult very early on and people say ah you've yet to face the worst but every time they tell me that i tell them i can't#wait#but at the same time sometimes i sit and i wonder why i haven't watched that many movies. was there nobody to watch them with? could i have#asked? could things have been different? is it my fault for never having really wanted things or somebody else's? and i'll never really have#a clear answer to any of those questions or at least not anytime soon because my cranium is messed up and unreliable but i won't get the#answers anywhere else. shrugs. i've yet to start living a life. i don't know when i died but i do know but maybe that's just an idea and#maybe i've been dead all along until some point in the past two years but then what are all those memories i have where did they come from#why are they so far apart why do they feel mine and foreign at the same time. can you guess who my favorite mg character is.#well okay i have like what four or five of those but read the text again and think really really hard about it. i'm just kidding i'm goofing#around at this point. i mean no not really but i am smiling about it. :]#logs
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retiredcultistredux · 10 months
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(Non-story) Don't burn urself out! You dont have to get everything out so quickly! We can wait! - Lollipop anon
((ok that's cool to hear thank you /gen))
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hua-fei-hua · 2 years
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the main reason i don’t take “i’m a native speaker of the source language” as the be-all, end-all for translation arguments in fandom specifically (as in, between fans who are not professional or even hobbyist translators) is bc, well. sometimes.......... native speakers............ are bad at their own language, too.
#we're on tumblr. we've seen the reading comprehension on this site which is mostly americans whose native language is ostensibly english#alternatively i don't take 'i asked someone who is a native speaker of the source language' as the be-all end-all of t/l arguments#like yes ofc native speakers opinions should be considered. and if i didn't speak any of the source language then fuck man#i'm not qualified to argue with them LOL. but this post is mostly me thinking abt things w/cn origin#bc i've been told my whole life my mom is Very Highly Educated in chinese language arts and speaks appropriately#and it's still pretty frustrating when she tries to make me speak in the same kind of language bc i just don't hear it around that often#but i think it has at least taught me to *think* abt things in that kind of Highly Educated highly-referential/symbolic way#even if i lack the knowledge base of references/symbols to utilize it myself i can go digging for them when t/l from cn --> en#which i think is pretty interesting bc it places me in this kind of 'historically this is what the word has meant' pov#which is just not smth we really do/consider in english esp when looking at modern texts but i think is rlly necessary in chinese#even when looking at texts written in the modern day! and thinking abt it that's probably the source kernel for some gnshn discourse#bc cn is such a context-heavy language; context which goes beyond the meaning of the bare words on the page#bc en doesn't consider historical context of words we're not used to reading into words w/different historical nuances#and since deciding whether the historical or the modern connotations should apply in a certain context is a Skill#the arguments end up sounding like 'historically it has meant x' 'so what? it means y in the modern day'#'yes but the historical meaning adds depth and nuance that changes the interpretation in this context' 'why should it tho?'#and the answer to that is just bc that's how it goes in the language!! Sometimes Other Languages And Cultures Do Things Differently!#anyway this kind of thinking definitely also affects how i write; with all the highly deliberate word choices#and occasional referential nature of my phrasing and whatnot. i like to imagine i have a somewhat chinese writing style in english#like not entirely. i don't craft my native english sentences the way i would craft an english translation of a chinese sentence#the latter of which i typically try to keep similar to the way cn sentences flow which is Different from good en sentence flow#but the extremely specific wording at times and trying to pack a lot of meaning into a few choice words using external context/references#that feels like something i can bring into my english writing and have it read as an english work w/echoes of another language hidden under#花話
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miniimight · 17 days
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I need more dad Sukuna and mom reader fics / headcsnons, I love the way you wrote for them!!
hey anon thank you! i'm thinking about making this a series, if you guys have any ideas/requests/prompts lmk <3
PICKING UP BABY FROM SCHOOL oops, toddlers can't ride motorcyles! (dad!sukuna x mom!reader)
sukuna rolled up about twenty minutes before his daughter's school got out, deploying the kickstand of his pitch black motorcycle against the rainbow colored fencing. he pulled off his helmet, sighing deeply when he met fresh air again.
his phone buzzed against his thigh. he pulled it out of his tight cargo pocket, answering immediately when he saw your caller ID. "hey, doll."
"you got there okay?" you asked.
"mhm."
"and you're on the right side of the building? that's where her class comes out."
"mhm."
"great." you exhaled. "m'sorry i couldn't make it this time—"
"stop." he says gruffly, his phone between his shoulder and ear as he pulls off his gloves. "what are you sorry for, silly girl? you're sick and should rest."
he doesn't mind anything when it comes to his two girls, not the fifteen minute commute to her school or the half hour of waiting just to get a parking spot nice and close to the doors.
your laugh was warbled over the phone. "at least the car is air conditioned. it's been getting warmer lately."
"..." he looked down at his bike.
"ryo, baby?" you hummed.
"hm?"
"you did take the car, right?"
"..."
his silence was all you needed to hear. he tuned out your worried rambling about how the hell is your daughter going to get home on that thing in order to process. toddlers don't usually use motorcycles as a mode of transportation... and he should've thought of this before!
"it'd be fine if i had an extra seat." he mused, debating on how he could manage this situation without having to call you to get them.
"an extra seat?! not even an extra helmet?" you shrieked. "baby, i swear, if you're actually thinking about driving with my baby girl on that thing—"
"relax, doll," he grumbled, pushing down the traces of embarrassment burning at his ears. "the brat will be fine, s'just a couple blocks away. she can handle the wind."
"..."
the bell rang and the doors swung open, children pouring out of the hallway and buzzing around in search of their parents.
"she's out, we'll see you soon." he was about to hang up when he heard,
"i'm literally about to come get you, do NOT go anywhere."
he frowns, his eyes scouring the crowd of midgets for his kid. he didn't mean to make you so upset and worried. he just... overlooked important details sometimes. not his fault, he's trying his best :(
"y/n, you will sit your ass down in bed. when i come home, you better be laying down exactly how i left you." he warned. he heard your breath hitch. "you trust me, don't you, baby?"
"yes... unfortunately."
he nodded. "we'll be home soon."
"in one piece?"
he rolled his eyes, grumbling. "yes, woman."
"hm." you huffed and hung up.
he strolled into the compound. as soon as he saw those pretty eyes that creased happily when they landed on him, he smiled and crouched down.
she ran over to him, her backpack jostling behind her. she held up a painting she made. "daddy, look!"
"i see." he pulled her closer, holding the backpack off her back and letting her walk off it. he slung the bedazzled bratz backpack over his shoulder, lifting her up in his arms. "what is it?"
"for mama."
"oh. all your crafts seem to be for mama. still nothing for me." he complained with a drawn out sigh.
she rolled her eyes, and he swore he was looking at you for a second.
"don't roll your eyes at me, brat." he scoffed. "who the hell even taught you that?" he muttered under his breath.
sukuna finally stopped in front of his bike. her eyes lit up as her legs started to kick in excitement. she's only ever seen daddy ride off on this thing, now she gets to ride with him?
he swung his leg over the bike, ignoring the mix of distasteful and flirtatious looks thrown at him. "okay, kid." he exhaled, shrugging off his jacket and holding it up to her. "gotta put this on."
she turned up her nose. "stinky."
his jaw dropped open. "i showered before i came to wait half an hour for you, chubby brat. the hell do you think you're talking to?"
she looked at him as if it were obvious.
"you'll put this on now. give me mama's painting, i'll put it in your bag." he said gruffly yet gently slid the painting into her backpack with the utmost care.
the jacket drowned her, the sleeves near triple the length of her arms. sukuna zipped her up and put the helmet on her head.
she started to whine. "stinky." she wailed.
"hush." he hissed, slapping some shades on and holding her towards her chest firmly. with her protected as best as he could with what he had, and with the jeweled backpack strapped to his back, he began to roll out into the road.
that drive home was the longest thirty minutes of his life. he had never drove so slow before.
you were waiting by the front door, running down to meet them as your husband pulled into the driveway.
"oh my god oh my god," you ripped your baby from his arms, tossing the helmet off her head. "are you okay, baby?" you smoothed away the sweaty hair from her face, your lips pursing when you hear her sniffles.
"my poor baby. daddy's never gonna pick you up again, don't you worry." you peppered her face with kisses.
sukuna caught the helmet before it crashed to the ground, walking behind you with his hands in his pockets. he kissed your temple as he leaned over your shoulder to peer down at his daughter. "daddy didn't do so bad."
you glare at him, cradling your daughter's head against your chest. you whirl away and storm into the house.
he sighed.
after many apologetic kisses and a good amount of groveling, you let him do pick-ups and drop-offs again. though you made sure to watch him get into the car before he drove off.
© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3
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triptuckers · 5 months
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dawn - percy jackson
Request: nope Pairing:  percy jackson x child of apollo!reader Summary:  percy wakes early because of a nightmare and you're not next to him Warnings:  swearing, mentions of nightmares, percy being scared :( Word count:  900 A/N: SHIFTING INTO PERCY JACKSON MODE AGAIN !!! I cannot wait for the show !!! also this is based on a head canon I saw once and now it's my favorite, enjoy!
percy hears you scream again. he needs to find you now.
he's been running for too long now, you've been screaming for too long. he could tell from your screams you had gone from scared to absolutely terrified.
and he knows you've been through as much as he has. it took a lot to make you scared. and something has made you terrified.
percy runs around the corner, gripping his sword tight. up ahead he can see a shadow. that must be you.
he takes off running again but as he gets closer to the shadow, it's not you. it's someone - or something - that is holding two very long, very sharp swords.
percy turns around and bolts through a door. you scream again. and again. he can't get to you. gods, he's going to lose you.
with a start, percy's eyes fly open.
he's breathing heavily and his hands are gripping the bedsheets. percy's chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to calm himself. he reaches out to you, but you're not next to him.
what if it wasn't a nightmare? fuck.
he pushes himself up with one elbow and notices the door to his cabin is slightly open. he can see you sitting just outside.
percy closes his eyes and lets himself fall back onto his pillow. he frowns when they're damp. great, he was sweating. that means it was a really bad one.
'shit.' he sighs, dragging a hand over his face. there's no way he's getting any sleep now. at least not with the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.
he can tell it's very early in the morning. the sun is starting to rise, but it's still pretty dark outside. percy looks over to you again and notices a mug in your hands, steam rising from it.
after the nightmare he had, he just needs you close. so he gets up and puts on a sweater and boots before joining you outside.
you look up when you hear footsteps on the wooden floor.
'hi. did I wake you?' you say, reaching for percy and pulling him down to squeeze into the chair next to you, careful not to spill your drink.
'no.' his answer is short.
'nightmare?' you ask, noticing the collar of his shirt that sticks to his sweaty neck.
'yeah.' he moves to get closer to you, needing to be near you.
'want to talk about it?' you say, lazily running your fingers through his hair near the back of his neck.
percy sighs softly. 'lately it's the same one.' he says. 'you're somewhere, I don't know where, I can't see you. but I can hear you. you're screaming for help, for me to come get you out of wherever you are. but there's this big guy chasing me and I can never get to you in time.'
he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to drown the image out.
'it's okay.' you say. 'I'm here now.'
'I know you are. you think I can ask any of the gods if they can stop the nightmares?'
you chuckle softly. 'it's worth a shot.'
'hey, wait. why weren't you next to me when I woke up?' he says, remembering the moment the nightmare shook him awake.
he turns slightly so he can look you in the eye, brows slightly furrowed. 'do you still have nightmares?'
'sometimes.'
'but they didn't wake you tonight?'
'no.'
'wait, so you willingly got up at the ass crack of dawn?'
you smile. 'also no.'
'you're usually up early, though. even on quests when you're exhausted but we need to go on, you're always the first one awake. perks of being apollo's kid?'
this time you laugh softly. 'no, more like downside of being his kid.'
percy frowns again. 'what are you talking about?"
'well, everyone wakes at dawn. look, will's awake as well.' you say, pointing to your cabin in the distance. 'michael is just coming back from getting his coffee. I saw lee as well.'
percy still looks confused. you're tempted to give him some weird reason and have him figure out I fit's real or not. but he might not even believe the truth.
'you know how apollo uses his chariot to ride across the sky to give us the sunrise, right?' you say.
'yeah, you told me about that.' says percy.
'well, when he does that he blasts heavy metal at a frequency only apollo kids can hear. so we can see him in the sky in all his glory.'
'seriously?'
'his words, not mine.'
percy laughs. 'that does sound like apollo, yes.'
'it's nice, tough. waking up before everyone else does. especially the younger kids.'
'hey, next time, wake me up okay?'
'I prefer to let you sleep. that's why I always get up quietly.'
'I know, and I appreciate it. but this is nice, just us.'
'us and all of my cabin.'
'well, yeah, but you're the only apollo kid sleeping in my cabin.' says percy, nudging your shoulder an smiling.
'and it better stay that way.' you say, smiling as well. 'I call dips on the shower.'
you lean in to kiss his cheek and get up, letting percy enjoy the rest of the sunrise on his own.
A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit
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rhys-writes-some-shit · 6 months
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Cuddles
Alastor x Reader (QP)
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You were always respectful of the fact that Alastor didn't like physical touch that he didn't initiate. You never asked why, never tried to force him otherwise, never even considered trying to touch him without his consent. This remained true for all the years you'd known him.
But sometimes it got really fucking difficult.
After a long day of work, then chores, then helping with the hotel, you were absolutely exhausted. And you still had dinner to look forward to. As much as you loved Al, his need for dinner formality really got on your nerves sometimes. At least the food was good.
Luckily, there was a little time where you could escape to your room. Closing the door behind you, you kicked off your shoes and dramatically collapsed onto the bed. As soon as your body hit the mattress, you wanted to stay there for the rest of eternity.
But that wasn't an option.
Groaning, you decided it wouldn't hurt to close your eyes for a moment. Besides, Alastor would want you to be lucid for dinner. Closing your eyes for a second would help.
"Ah, there you are." Distantly, you heard Alastor poke his head in the room. "I would like your input on supper, if you don't mind."
Unable to muster words, you made some unintelligible noises into the bed, curling up more with the blankets. Alastor's footsteps were muffled by the carpet, so you didn't know he was standing right next to you until he spoke.
"Seriously, darling, it is much too early to be sleeping. Don't be so dramatic."
A hand fell on your shoulder, probably to try and take the blankets off you. However, in your half-awake stupor, you shifted to grab the hand, pulling it towards you in an effort to pull some comfort out of it.
Your brain didn't compute what you'd just done for a full 30 seconds, until, suddenly, it hit you. Despite your exhaustion, you immediately let go of Alastor's hand and jerked to a sitting position.
"Al, I'm so, so sorry," you said, your voice sounding more tired than anything else. You ignored the way your eyes kept trying to close, Alastor's figure being nothing more than a red blur in front of you. "I didn't mean to. Give me a minute, I'll be down to help."
Alastor hummed, the contemplative hum you've learned to differentiate over time. Vaguely, you were aware that Alastor's smile softened a bit.
"I can spare ten minutes," Alastor finally said. "Move over, if you please."
You stared at him, blinking tiredly, struggling to understand what was happening.
Expectantly, Alastor motioned to the bed. "Nine minutes and thirty-five seconds."
Then it kicked in. Hastily, you moved over to the other side of them bed, giving enough room for Alastor to sit down with his back against the headboard.
Blankets curled around your shoulders, you sat there, hesitating.
"You may." Alastor answered the unspoken question. "For eight minutes and fifty-two seconds."
It was impossible to deny the smile that grew on your face as you crawled into Alastor's lap, resting your head on his chest and closing your eyes. Gently, Alastor wrapped his arms around you, holding you.
Wrapped in blankets, leaning into Alastor's solid body, the darkness behind your eyelids enveloped you. It felt like you were floating, just your and Alastor, and nothing could ever harm you ever again. As long as you kept your breathing steady, everything would be okay.
Everything would be okay.
You were right; just closing your eyes for a few minutes helped immensely. It was even better that it was spent with one of your favorite people in all of Hell. And if Alastor "accidentally" forgot to keep track of the time, extending your cuddle for an extra two minutes, you weren't going to say anything.
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thevoidstaredback · 2 months
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Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant
Listen. It was an accident. He didn't mean to! It just kinda happened.
So maybe he brought a drink with enough caffeine in it to kill an elephant within a few minutes, and maybe he forgot to put the sleeve on his cup so he could tell it apart from the others, but it's not his fault! He didn't think anyone else was going to have the exact same Yeti cup as him! It's not like he'd seen any of the others carry one before. Besides, he worked with superheros. They should be smart enough to check before drinking someone else's drink.
Danny had been summoned by the Justice League Dark a few years back in order to help with a world ending crisis and he just didn't leave. It's not like he could go anywhere anyway. His ghost half hadn't grown past fourteen and his human half had stopped visibly aging at eighteen. He'd had to leave town as Danny Fenton, but he'd stayed in Amity Park as Danny Phantom. When his parents died of old age, thank god, he'd closed down the portal, stuck around for a few more years, before traveling the world as Danny Fenton.
Anyway, he'd taken up residence in the House of Mysteries after the JLD had summoned him. Constantine, at first, had been wary, but he and the rest of the JLD had grown to accept him. He was an honorary member of the team.
At some point, just after Robin had become Red Robin, Danny had been introduced to the Justice League. He liked those guys, too, and worked with them sometimes. Though, he usually only went to bug them.
Red Robin had been very interested in the fact that his was fourteen and working with grown heros, like he was one to talk, but Danny hadn't explained anything other than saying that he had died and come back. The following conversation was an interesting one that lead to Danny knowing that Nightwing was the Batman he'd met and that Batman was lost somewhere. He'd confirmed that the man was not dead, but he hadn't offered to help look for him. He probably should have, in retrospect.
Back on topic! Everyone in the JLD knew not to touch Danny's drink. They'd all seen him make it before and had been horrified on varying degrees. It's not like it could kill him. He's already half dead! So long as he only drank this specific brew as Phantom, he'd be fine.
The Justice League, apparently, didn't get the memo. He blames Constantine because Zatanna and Raven can do no wrong. No, John, he's not biased.
The point is, Red Robin just had a sip of Danny's drink. The horror he now felt was akin to the fear he held when he'd told his parents he was Phantom. (An interaction that had gone very well, thank you very much.)
Danny knew the exact moment that the vigilante realized he grabbed the wrong drink. His eyes widened to an astonishing degree, and, if he'd been able to seen his eyes behind the mask, Danny knew that the man's pupils would've completely overtaken the irises. His hands started shaking, too. Oh, no. The man's already addicted to hellish amounts of coffee. This is only going to make it worse!
Quickly, and without drawing any attention, thank the Ancients, Danny rushed over. "You, um, you okay, man?" Obviously not, but he tends to talk when he's anxious and he was certainly anxious right now. He could've possibly just killed a man via poison!
"What the fuck is in this coffee?" Red Robin asked, going to take another sip.
Danny pulled the Yeti from his hand and gave him the proper one. "Enough caffeine to kill an elephant."
"Obviously not, seeing as I'm still alive."
"Yeah, I can't tell if that's a good thing or not."
"Excuse me?"
"I-I mean-! I didn't-! You know what I mean." Caffeine is poisonous in excess, and his drink was way beyond excess, but it's the only thing that works for him as a ghost! Superpowered metabolism and all that.
"Do I?" The laugh in his voice answered for him. He took a sip from his drink and frowned at it. "I don't think any coffee will ever be enough again."
"And that's my cue to get my drink very far away from you." Danny turned, fully intent on moving to the other side of the room. Besides, the meeting was going to start as soon as the Flash and Kid Flash arrived, which would be soon. Something about one of their Rouges getting out?
"What?" Red Robin asked, "Why?" If he was a little desperate to get another sip of that coffee, he'd rather not acknowledge it.
"Because you don't need anymore lethal coffee," he muttered, "The sip you took will already keep you awake for three days at least, and it probably jump started an addiction. Best to stop it now. Besides, I need to go have my crisis on how the hell you're still alive after even a sip of this stuff."
"Again, rude." The bird themed vigilante crossed his arms as best he could while holding his cup. "If it's so dangerous, why do you drink it?"
Danny took a deliberate sip as he locked eyes with the technically younger man. "I'm dead. I don't need to worry about my heart stopping or having a seizure."
"Excuses."
"No, it's not 'excuses'. I'm saving your life."
"You're a kid. If I can't have that coffee, then you shouldn't be having it."
"First, I'm older than you. Second, I already told you: I'm dead. This isn't going to hurt me. Third, you can't tell me what to do."
"There's no way you're older than me. You're like, ten."
"I'm thirty-eight!" He balked, "I only look fourteen because I died when I was fourteen. We've been over this."
Neither noticed the entire Justice League looking at them. The two they were waiting on had arrived a few minutes ago and everyone was ready to start the meeting, but they'd been distracted by the two's conversation. Was that true? Had Phantom really died so young? They'd all been made aware he was not living, but they didn't think he'd died so young! Though, that was probably the denial speaking.
The Justice League Dark had been fully aware of this and didn't really bat an eye. Though, someone should probably get this meeting started. A potentially world ending threat was the topic, and that was a pretty important thing to discuss.
Captain Marvel was the first to pull himself together, though that was only after Atlas and Zeus had mentally slapped him out of his stupur. "As, ah, riveting as this conversation is," he stepped between the two boys- er, boy and man? "we really need to start this meeting."
Batman did not clear his throat because he'd not lost his voice in the first place. "He's right. Everyone take your seats."
Storyboard Part 2
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monicahar · 2 years
Text
“how much do you love me?”
in which you question the extent of their love out of the blue.
characters; scaramouche, cyno, tighnari, alhaitham, kaveh
; gn! reader, fluff, crack, uh, idk just sumeru men sexy. first time writing kaveh too!
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SCARAMOUCHE stares at you. boredly. unamusedly. unimpressed. er, disappointed even. he's having trouble deciding if he should ignore you or not for deciding to distract him from his paperwork. he decides the latter with a sigh. “do you want me to be brutally honest?” brutally honest? is he hinting at some implication that he doesn't actually love you?! what the hell? with gritted teeth and a newfound insecurity, you nod with uncertainty.
“go for it.”
a smirk creeps on his lips as a dark expression etches itself on his face, staring at you with a level of seriousness. “i'd brawl with celestia for you.” his hands find yours, clasping it tightly in his as he breathes a vow—a promise, even. “if you were somehow taken away from me, even i am quite unsure of what kind of being i'd become.”
ah...you sweatdrop at the dedication he's willing to offer. he sounded a bit scary, borderline creepy but it's just scaramouche being your sweetie pie, haha! nothing new, am i right? anyway, he does seem to love you quite a bit—you're unsure if you should be relieved or not.
his other arm lazily warps around your shoulder as he presses his cheek against yours, his eyes shutting in content at the warmth of your skin. “but then again, there are times where i just kinda wish to throw you off a cliff. you can be quite annoying sometimes, darling. ”
“you—!” he rudely cuts you off with a press of his lips against yours, effectively shutting you up.
CYNO ponders the question for a bit too long—you're afraid that he might've taken the question a bit too seriously. he could've just said something bland and cheesy like “more than anything” and you still would've swooned like a teenage girl. after all, who wouldn't? the general mahamantra—well, if people weren't so busy fearing him, they probably would've been admiring his pretty face instead.
“i love you a lot, that's for sure. though i'm not quite sure how to measure it...”
oh, dear cyno. your heart clenches at his thoughtful words. “haha, i thought you were trying to find a joke to go along with my question or something.”
“why would i do that? my love for your isn't something to laugh about,” he pauses, eyes flickering towards you for a moment, a glint you know all too well present in his eyes.
“though,” he starts with a small grin, “if you want to hear a joke or two, i've got the ones just for you.”
it's plural?! oh no. D:
TIGHNARI doesn't peel his eyes away from the research paper before him, nonchalantly replying in a heartbeat—“i love you enough to date you, apparently.”
you outwardly huff at his boring answer, staring at the ceiling boredly as you lie in his bed. tighnari isn't quite the charmer, you guess. but then again, you probably wouldn't have dated him if he wasn't being his sassy self. “is that so.” your tone comes out more disappointed than you intended.
unbeknownst to you, his ear twitches at the lack of enthusiasm in your tone. his gaze finally removing itself from the papers in his desk to look at you from over his shoulder. he sees you staring at the ceiling, sprawled out all over his bead while humming a random tune out of boredom.
“you didn't get the meaning behind my words, did you?”
your head turns to him in utter confusion, your gaze meeting his unamused expression. “huh?”
a sigh leaves his lips as he turns back to his desk, resuming his paperwork as your gaze burns into his back.
thinking he had dismissed the subject completely, you pout at the lack of explanation, opening your mouth to ask what he meant before he abruptly cuts you off with another twitch of his ears.
“fennec foxes mate for life.” he says as a matter of factly.
oh. :o
ALHAITHAM peers at you with a raised brow. “are you asking for an exact estimation or?” this dude you swear—
“it's not like you can calculate love, dummy.” you slap his arm lightly as you huff out a laugh at his words, “i'm simply asking for a metaphor. or at least, what's the most you'd do for me out of pure love.”
“care to give an example?”
you press a finger to your chin as you walk beside him, “hmm...i love you enough that i'd give up my position in the akademiya if it meant to spend more time you!”
“that sounds unreasonable.” he replies without hesitation, a concerned frown forming on his face. “you should work on your time management instead of giving up your studies—”
“i-it's just a reference for what i would do for you, calm down...”
“i can assist you. i'll help you make a schedule right now if you want to.” he whips out a piece of paper and a pen from nowhere, surprising you greatly. where'd he get that from?! “here, you wake up at around 7 am, right? give your studies about 8 hours of your day—the average time a scholar needs, then you can spend about 4 to 6 hours with me daily without problem. in our time together we could go out and eat, maybe even do your homework so you could add an extra hour with me if so—”
sadly, you never got an answer. :(
KAVEH immediately goes “i love you more than anything in the world!” yes, it's bland and cheesy like i mentioned earlier. and yes, he's going to be proud of it too. extra points for the confidence(?)
would definitely press kisses onto your face afterwards, hugging you tightly in his arms. “ahh, you're so cute that it's impossible that i'd choose anything else over you.”
“is that so?” you ask innocently as you tilt your head, staring into his eyes. “would that mean you'll finally join me in the upcoming event that alhaitham will be co-hosting?” you almost laugh at the way his expression drops.
“aha—that's...”
“oh, c'mon! you love me more than anything, right? that also includes putting your hatred for alhaitham at bay just to keep me company, riiiight?”
“m-maybe there are a few exceptions—” he really doesn't want to see that guy more than necessary!
you lean closer to him, cupping his cheek with a smile. “even if i give you a kiss now?”
“—nevermind! i'll join you!”
yes, i hc kaveh is a simp <3
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gyeomsweetgyeom · 6 months
Text
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[7:37 pm]
(cw: f!reader, a few curse words, no hate at all to business majors xx)
“Baby! Come on you know I didn’t mean it!” Fratboy!Jaehyun calls out with a laugh in his voice.
“You called me stupid, Jaehyun," You pout.
He fails to hide his laugh at the sight, "No, I said don't be stupid. There's a difference."
"And there's a difference between being single and having a girlfriend, asshole," you reply, slamming the door behind you.
You stomp down the stairs and almost make it to the door when Taeyong, your favorite of Jaehyun's frat brothers, asks if you were going to stay for dinner. You can never say no to him.
In the kitchen you help him chop vegetables before he finally asks you what happened, "I told Jaehyun I couldn't spend the night because I had a big project due by Monday and he told me there was no way a project for my major would constitute me not being able to spend the night. Then he just kept talking and said that none of my classes could be harder than his."
Taeyong stopped with wide eyes, "he said that?"
You nod quickly, "Oh yeah, then he told me that he doesn't think any major would be harder than his business classes, especially mine, and I'd be stupid to think so."
Taeyong ends up agreeing with you and your current upset state, Jaehyun is officially in the wrong. You can feel your phone in your pocket vibrating with texts from Jaehyun but you don't care enough to text back. He can learn from the consequences of being rude.
When the meal is finally ready, you take a seat at the table, far away from your honorary seat at the dinner table, the seat that was right beside Jaehyun's.
Jaehyun walks into the room and sees you sitting beside Taeyong and Haechan, "Really? You're still butt hurt? You didn't answer any of my texts, I wasn't sure if you were safe."
You make it a point not to look at him, so Haechan answers for you instead, "You have her location and you made her feel bad, she doesn't owe you anything."
Jaehyun glares at the younger man, he could be so annoying sometimes. While he ate, Jaehyun's eyes were glued on you with a scowl watching you laugh and interact with everyone but him. He looked like a child who was forced to share his favorite toy, it was hilarious.
While you stood in the kitchen and continued conversing with Taeyong, Jaehyun slipped in and wrapped his arms around your waist, "are you really still mad at me baby?"
"Yes, Jaehyun," You reply curtly, not reciprocating any type of affection like you would usually. This was new for everyone to witness, usually it was you giving the affection. It was you who initiated the hugs, used the mushy petnames, began the disgusting make out sessions. It was funny to see Jaehyun being the clingier of you two now.
He nuzzles his face in your neck, pressing kisses to the slope of your shoulder, "I'm not Jaehyun. I'm your love, your baby, your babe."
"Not when you're being mean."
"I didn't mean to say it," he whines, hearing someone snort out a laugh in the background.
"Jaehyun, I just can't believe you'd say that to me. You're a fucking business major with a 2.8 GPA and I'm on the dean's list with a 3.9. Almost all your classes are freshman level classes. Anything I do is harder than what you do," you finally snap.
"My love, I'm sorry," he cups your face and begins pressing kisses across your face while you still huff in annoyance in his hold.
"I don't like it when you call me stupid or imply that I am," You pout looking up into his eyes.
He presses his forehead to yours, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, "You're not baby. You're so smart and I'm the stupid one."
Someone imitates a whipping noise and mocks, "No, I'm stupid! Me! Me! I'm so stupid!"
"Fucking whipped is what he is," someone else chuckles.
"Would you guys knock it off, I'm trying to apologize to my girlfriend here!" Jaehyun calls out with an annoyed groan.
Another whip noise, "Pretty sure, I heard her call you single bro."
"Did you break up?" Haechan asks hopefully, fingers visibly crossed on both hands.
"Jaehyun gets a pass this time," you reply leaning into Jaehyun to give his cheek a kiss, ignoring the groans of the other guys in the room while he smiles happliy, "but I want flowers too."
He kisses you softly a few times, your face still cradled in his hands while he looks you right in the eye, "then my girl is getting her flowers."
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
Text
Eddie's at a party, lunch box in tow, and he's making a fucking killing.
He sets up shop in the crowded kitchen, but that doesn't stop him from spotting King Steve in the living room. Harrington's face is still fucked up from the fight with Hargrove, and he's tipping a cup almost vertically into his mouth. He's not too surprised when--the next time he spots the jock--he has a can of beer in each fist.
More customers flood up to him, and he can't help but be a little grateful for the distraction. Harrington is one unrequited crush he just can't kick.
Lunch box cleaned out, Eddie heads outside for a smoke. He's fishing his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket when he hears a snuffling sort of shuffle that sends his heart racing.
He edges forward, just enough to make out the heap of a person half-heartedly sitting up against the house. A person in fitted blue jeans, tight polo, and Member's Only jacket; swoop of chestnut hair catching in the flash of fire from Eddie's Zippo.
"Harrington?"
The guy startles, stability wavering, eyes blinking too much. "Munson?"
"You alright, man?" He asks, though he can already tell that Steve is most definitely not.
Steve shrugs. "Why do you care?" It's not mean, sounds genuinely curious.
Eddie gets it. He has no reason on earth to show concern about King Steve. In answer, he taps his boot against Steve's sneaker, giving him a small smile. "Not sure. But I'm here, so..."
"Just needed some air. Clear my head."
"How much have you had to drink?" Eddie asks.
"One or two,"
"Dozen?"
Steve laughs. "You're funny. Has anyone ever told you that?"
"I've heard," Eddie says, can't help but laugh a little too. "Wanna talk about what's going on?"
Eddie thinks that'll be a "no," but then: "Nancy dumped me."
"Yeah, big news."
"Ugh, people are talking about it?" Steve whines. It's really cute and Eddie hates himself for noticing. Hates himself more when Steve loses his balance, tips onto Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie doesn't tip him back.
Eddie can tell that Steve isn't fully with him anymore. He's a little afraid to leave the guy alone, so Eddie talks about the latest Hellfire campaign. Sober Steve Harrington probably has no idea what dnd is, but the drunk version is kind of a rapt audience.
He's just explaining about owlbears when Steve's voice, soft and sad, says "I just want someone to love me, you know?"
The admission renders Eddie speechless for a second, his chest fucking aching for the jock. He says "Oh, Stevie," knows he sounds too sad, is sure of it when Steve's nose wrinkles (it's cute; it's so fucking cute. Eddie hates himself for noticing).
Before he can backtrack, Steve slumps over, body going limp as he passes out. "Jesus H Christ," Eddie barks.
With a heavy sigh, and way too much fondness, Eddie stands. "Let's get you home, sweetheart."
He gathers Harrington up in his arms--dude is heavy--and carries him around to his van.
---
Steve wakes up, head throbbing and tongue fuzzy, with no idea how he got home and into bed. Can't really recall anything after he stumbled outside, aside from talking to Eddie Munson. But maybe that was a dream? Either way, he's home, not really any worse for wear. It's enough to let him forget all about it; what's one drunken party in a life full of them?
That Wednesday, he opens his locker after the final bell, and a Hershey bar falls out. He picks it up, flipping it over to see a note on the foil wrapping, "thought you might need something sweet to cheer you up." It's not signed, and Steve slips it into his backpack, knowing he's got a silly smile on his handsome face.
The little gifts continue to show up once or twice a week. Candy, plastic vending machine toys, sketches of the school grounds, caricatures of classmates and teachers. Sometimes they even come with a note in handwriting he doesn't recognize.
Along with the little treats, he starts seeing Eddie Munson kind of everywhere. And it's not like Steve hadn't seen him before--guy was hard to miss--but he was never around this often. Wasn't around this often and he and Steve had never shared a smile, a quick bob of the head, a quiet hello.
It isn't long before they're talking. Nothing much, nothing serious. Complaining about teachers, about classmates; sharing weekend plans. Only now Steve can't pretend to not notice the way Eddie dimples up when he smiles, the subtle muscles that bunch under the sleeves of his Hellfire Club shirt, the long litheness of his legs. Steve knows he's attracted to other guys, it's just that he didn't realize he'd be attracted to Eddie.
The gifts keep coming. Once, he opens his locker to find a plastic ring fashioned into a golden crown and a note that says, "made me think of you, Stevie." There's something about the "Stevie" that catches deep in his brain, but he can't make it connect to anything.
A few months later, Steve opens his locker and pulls out a drawing. This one--it's of him. He's gazing out into space in a way that managers to be dreamy and wistful. The Steve in the drawing is lovely, and it makes something clench deep in his gut, that someone sees him like this.
Steve tries to be more aware of the people in his surroundings, to figure out who his admirer is. He's not very good at it, even as more sketches of him--all depicting him as a gorgeous, ethereal thing he definitely isn't--show up in his locker. Especially when, so often these days, the person he sees the most is Eddie.
---
The presents in his locker continue into April, and would probably last until the end of the school year, but Steve's got a migraine starting. He keeps aspirin in his locker, gets a hall pass out of English to get some.
When he reaches his locker, though, someone is already there, with the door open. Someone in ripped black jeans, heavy black boots, a black leather jacket, and patch covered denim vest.
"Munson?" He asks. His heart beats so hard it reverberates in his ears, making it hard to hear.
Eddie jumps back, hands fluttering, face flushing bright red. "Ste--Harrington! I--uh--," he's backing up, his hands held out from his body, like he's pushing Steve away even though they aren't touching.
"Were you--?" Steve tries to ask, but the words won't quite come. There's familiar warmth low in his stomach, a twisting that has nothing to do with his impending migraine.
"I wasn't doing anything, I swear," Eddie says. He's breathing hard, eyes too bright, and Steve thinks he might be about to cry, but then the metalhead is turning away, starting to run.
"Eddie, wait!" Steve calls, chasing after him without much thought. "Please!"
Eddie doesn't stop until after they've crashed out one of the side exits, are alone outside.
"It was you? Leaving the--?"
Eddie nods, presses his hands to his eyes. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Harrington. I just--"
"Don't be sorry," Steve begs. "It's been--I liked it."
"Even now that you know they're coming from the freak?" Eddie spits. He still hides his face behind his hands.
"It's sort of been the best part of my year, if I'm being honest."
Only now does the metalhead remove his hands, blink back at Steve, dark eyes wide with shock. "Really?"
"Yeah. It made me feel-- important, I guess? Like, maybe someone saw me as something more than King Steve."
Eddie smiles now, looks down at the pavement. "I just didn't want you to think that you weren't--" he stops then, presses his mouth tight.
"Didn't want me to think what?"
"That you weren't loved, Stevie."
The statement hangs between them, Eddie's face pinking again, as the words wrap their way around Steve's heart. Loved. That he's loved. It clenches at every part of him, and he surrounds himself with the truth of it, what all those little presents were saying without words.
"Eddie, I--" he's overwhelmed by the gesture, the meaning, the reciprocal buzz in his chest, because Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson, loves him, and this fact is turning Steve's world on it's head in the best way.
"I'm sorry, Steve, really. Please don't hate me, or--or--"
"It means so much to me," Steve says, his voice a little broken. He reaches a hand out, slow, telegraphing the movement. "Can I?" He whispers.
Eddie nods, and Steve strokes the skin of his face with his thumb. "Thank you."
The metalhead nods, leaning into Steve's touch, they shift close, until their foreheads meet, until they share the same air. They stand that way for a while, long enough that they hear the bell ringing, and only then does Steve break their quiet. "Eds?"
"Yeah, Stevie?"
"You wanna hangout some time?"
Eddie laughs. "Yeah. I really, really do, sweetheart."
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moonchildstyles · 3 months
Note
have you thought about revisiting that anon concept about asterry and his girlfriend watching p*rn? I'm asking for a friend hehe
wordcount: 9.8k+
—————
(Y/N) blinked, staying silent as she took in the conversation around her. This was definitely not the avenue she saw the night taking when Charlotte had opened the second bottle of wine between the few of them. 
"I asked him if he still watched it a lot, like as much as he did before we started dating, but he wouldn't really say no," Emily shared before taking a pull from her wine glass, "He didn't say yes, but all he said was that its different now, don't worry. What is that even supposed to mean? Like, do you watch porn when I go to sleep, yes or no?" 
Charlotte and Sarah both laughed, joining Emily as she smiled around the rim of her wine glass. (Y/N) wanted to laugh along, but she was honestly still a bit thrown off by the topic. 
Truthfully, she didn't know really much about anything that had to do with... pornography. The closest she had were the scenes some of her romantic novels had, and movies that had her adverting her eyes.
Not only was the act of sex demonized growing up—especially before marriage—but anything else that had to do with it. There was no way she was going to risk doing any of her own research should her parents' close monitoring catch even a stray google search. 
After getting out from under their thumb, she didn't have much desire to go looking on that corner of the internet—she had done fine enough up to this point, she figured. Then, of course, she met Harry and there really seemed to be no need for any kind of video when she had him in the flesh.
(Y/N) honestly wondered if she had ever even spoken the word porn aloud, let alone discussed it with anyone else. This conversation was especially jarring given all of the giggling and the unfiltered language. 
"Em," Charlotte piped up, bringing her wine glass to her mouth to cover the wry grin growing on her face, "Have you ever tried watching it with him, though?" 
Feeling her cheeks warming, (Y/N) practically sunk into her skin as if to hide from the conversation. Sarah had mimicked her surprise some, though she was decidedly less shocked into silence. 
"Charlotte!" Sarah bubbled, dark brows raised, "Is that what you do?" 
Another peal of laughter came from the wine-soaked group, though (Y/N)'s reaction was more to fit in with the theatrics. (When it came to topics like these, she didn't want to be quiet even if she wasn't necessarily talkative—being too silent left people wondering if she was uninterested, judging them, and invited questions she wasn't looking to answer). 
She had always figured the viewing of those kinds of videos to be something that was done alone. She couldn't fathom anyone joining in and watching alongside what should be a particularly intimate moment. (Besides, if you had someone to watch them with, why watch them at all when you could be with that person?). 
Charlotte hesitated for a moment, opening her mouth before closing it. Emily nudged her at her side, a mischievous smile on her face. 
"C'mon, spit it out." 
Finally, Charlotte threw her hands up in surrender. "It's honestly not that bad, and I think you should try it." 
"So, you have done it!" Sarah called, bouncing in her spot on the couch, "With Elijah or?" 
"With Elijah, yeah," she settled, the wine getting to her tongue as she didn't mind sharing more details, "I walked in on him one time, and I wanted to be grossed out, but I just wasn't. It ended up working out, and now it's just a thing sometimes." 
Charlotte's ending shrug before taking down a gulp of wine showed the end of her story, though Emily still nudged her as if there was more she could shake out. 
"I don't know if I could do that," Sarah admitted, crossing her legs underneath herself, "I think it would annoy me too much, that Mitch was watching a video like that when he could have just called me or something." 
(Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth as the conversation then changed, some debate on if videos like that were allowed in relationships. 
She didn't know what she would do if she walked in on Harry watching something like that. While she couldn't really deny that she enjoyed the sight of him playing with himself (something she's shyly learned every time Harry passed his fist over himself before sinking into one of her holes), she wasn't sure what she would think about the inspiration behind the act. There was a part of her that would be offended, she thought, that she was right there and he picked a video over the real thing. Another part of her understood that maybe he wouldn't want to have sex right then, instead opting to take care of himself before moving on. Besides, it wasn't like he had photos of her to look at in the heat of the moment, so she figured she would have to understand. 
There was no use in being jealous of girls in movies anyway. Even if it did kind of hurt her stomach thinking about Harry reacting to them the same way he did to her. 
Around her the conversation had floated elsewhere leaving behind the illicit subject matter for something lighter (a movie Emily had gone to the theater to hate watch only to end up liking it some, and now she was questioning her taste level). She was able to plug into this one much better, that much was evident in the way Sarah had quit giving her small glances as if she knew that (Y/N)'s comfort was twisting. 
Despite now adding her own takes to the conversation and actively engaging outside of a few well placed laughs and head nods, the back of her mind was lagging behind. 
There were questions rattling around that she was sure she wasn't going to be able to keep completely under wraps the next time she saw Harry. 
—————
(Y/N) watched as Harry climbed into bed beside her, comforter pulled up to her chin as she sunk into the warm mattress. He gave her a lopsided smile when he caught her following gaze, her skin warming as she averted her eyes. 
Cuddling in beside her, Harry pulled her close with an arm around her waist, his ankle hooking around hers. She could feel his eyes on her, but when she didn't immediately match his gaze she heard a plume of laughter fall from him, 
"Why won't y'look at me, love?" he smiled, reaching his hand on her waist through the duvet to brush her hair out of her face. 
She shyly kept her eyes on the column of his tattooed throat, following the thorny roses. "You caught me." 
(Y/N) could feel the fan of his laughter as much as she heard it. His hand settled on her cheek then, his fingertips venturing into the baby hairs bordering her hairline. "Yeah, but y'catch me looking at you all the time," he countered, "Jus' lets me know y'like what y'see." 
Using his hand on her cheek, he angled her face towards him once more, forcing her eyes to meet his own. A small smile graced his features, his eyes light with amusement. Tipping his chin just right, he pressed his lips to hers in a delicate kiss. 
When he pulled away his smile had grown, dimples now touching his cheeks as he ran the pad of his thumb over the height of her cheekbone. "Did you have fun tonight, baby?" 
Their dinner date splashed through her head, along with all of the warm feelings she went through while under the dimmed lights. They swapped bites of food, shared a cocktail (Y/N) really wanted to try but was worried it would be too strong, and Harry pulled out any joke he could in hopes of hearing her bubbling laughter through the restaurant. 
Nodding her head against the pillow, her own smile took her features, leaving her cheeks mushed between Harry's hand and the soft of her pillow. "A lot of fun. Thank you for taking me." 
His hand slipped down the slope of her form, settling on the sup of her waist before he gave a gentle squeeze. When (Y/N) reacted with a bubble of laughter, Harry's eyes swam with adoration. 
"I had fun too, baby," he crooned, "Thank you for coming with me." 
With the low lights and the gentle way he spoke to her, (Y/N) felt like she was supposed to be tired. It was kind of her thing, anyway—being sleepy and decidedly ready to pass out whenever. But, that just didn't seem to be the case tonight, her head was too full.
When she had come to his place after class, Harry greeting her at the door, there was a pinging question in the back of her mind that made an abrupt return from the previous night. As much as she wanted to blurt it out, get the curiosity out of the way, it didn't feel entirely appropriate to ask her boyfriend about his porn habits just after walking through the door. That much was made even more apparent given the fact that Mitch greeted her a few minutes later, trekking from his room to the kitchen with a small wave. Then, Harry had told her he had plans to take her out to dinner that night, and there was no way she was asking such a question in the middle of a restaurant. 
There was never good time it seemed, to sate her curiosity and learn her own perspective on what her friends had been talking about. No time better than right now, anyway.
She just had to find some kind of courage to go along with the timing. 
Shuffling closer, the sheets shifting around them, Harry pressed a small kiss to her forehead, right over a crease she hadn't realized was scrunching the skin. "What's going on in here?" he cooed, "You're thinking too hard before bedtime, love." 
"I just—" she bubbled off before stopping her tongue. She swallowed, a pinch appearing between her brows. "There was something... I don't know." 
There were no words that felt comfortable in her mouth, nothing that she could feasibly hear herself saying when it came to the questions she had. (Honestly, she couldn't understand how she was able to utter some of the things she did for Harry between the sheets and now shy away over pornography). 
His hand on her waist was a stern anchor, the grip just tight enough to remind her that he was there. "'S alright, y'can tell me. What is it?" 
Gone was the amusement and the soft teasing he had offered up to her before, instead his voice growing soft and forgiving. Patience now settled in his eyes as he waited on her. 
Dropping her own gaze to dance around his features, she distracted herself with the spray of fine freckles on his nose. "The girls last night, they said something that I've just been... thinking about I guess." 
The warmth of his gaze traced over her own features. "What was it? It wasn't anything rude, right?" 
"No, no, no," (Y/N) rushed out, matching his gaze to show her sincerity. All of those girls were her friends, and Sarah would also never let anything like that happen around her. "It was—I don't know, it feels weird to say it." 
Harry's expression relaxed now that he knew he wasn't there to be nursing any wounds. "We've said a lot of weird stuff to one another, baby. I think I can handle it." 
She couldn't look him in the eye when she tried to speak again, instead dropping back to the tattooed skin of his neck. Her hands between them reached to take his shirt between her fingers, the faded graphic on the material distracting her just enough. 
"They were talking about porn." Her heartbeat sounded in her ears. "With their boyfriends." 
There was a pause, though (Y/N) could feel his unwavering eyes on her face. 
"Okay," he finally shared, the syllable slow as it dropped from his tongue, "That's what's been on your mind?" 
Folding her bottom lip between her teeth, she tried to find the next set of words that made sense. "I-I have questions. I think." 
Harry's expression broke into a soft smile she could hear through the delicate huff of laughter he let out. "You think?" 
Peeking up at him through her lashes, she saw his eyes bare of liner, the planes of his face relaxed and rounded, and his hair pushed away from his face leaving it all on display. He didn't look at all bothered by her avenue of conversation, leaving him to be the always open book he was for her, willing and ready to answer anything she needed. 
"Yeah," she said, settling into her skin some, "I knew what they were talking about, but I don't think I really understand it all. I thought I could ask you, if it wasn't weird." 
"Never weird, love," Harry shared, "You know 'm always here to answer anything y'need help with." 
(Y/N) blinked, tipping her chin in a short nod. "Okay, but if there's anything you don't want to answer, you don't have to." 
"'M sure I can answer ever—" 
"Do you watch porn?"
Practically cringing at the sound of her voice wrapped around that question and the fact she spoke it aloud right to Harry, (Y/N) wanted to curl up in hopes of disappearing. 
"Sorry," she started, her voice barely a peep, "I didn't mean to cut you off." 
Harry looked at her for a lingering moment, his brows raised high over his eyes before he melted some. An amused smile sat on his lips, a small puff of laughter exhaling from his lungs. "'S alright," he offered, his hand on her waist squeezing just enough, "Not what I was expecting, but 's okay.
"To answer your question," he drawled, "No, I don't—not since you, really. No need to when I've got my own pretty star, huh?" 
His lips molded into a teasing smile, but lopsided as he pressed forward hoping to catch a small grin from her. 
Keeping her shy gaze dropped, (Y/N) couldn't keep her lips from curling. There was a bit of pride from the flattery; he didn't need any videos when he had her instead. She was enough to satisfy him, and that was a nice thought even if it was a bit in the gutter. 
Spotting her shy smile, Harry let out a plume of laughter before he dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. Knowing him, he probably already knew what was going on in her head, even if she didn't say it aloud. 
"Is that all y'wanted to know, my love?" 
Her fingers in his shirt curled just a bit more, as if she were bracing herself for this next string. "One of the girls, she said something about her and her boyfriend... watching it together," (Y/N) prattled, her voice growing smaller the more she went on, "Is that normal?"
Harry lagged in his response, taking his time with his fingers fiddling with a pulsing pattern on her waist. "It can be," he offered, "but, 's not for everyone. I've never really talked about that with anyone, but I would imagine it could make people feel closer—sharing something that's usually only done by yourself."
(Y/N) silently nodded her head, taking in his offered information. Truthfully, she wanted to stall, find another inconsequential question to stall him before she was left with the last curiosity she'd had burning in the back of her head. 
The avenue she landed on was barely any less humiliating, but it was easy to fall from her tongue than the other she'd had on deck. She still couldn't meet his eyes as she spoke, bubbling off the question before she could second guess herself. 
"Is that something you would want to try? Like, watching it together and all." 
Skating his hand over the curves of her form, Harry tipped her chin up. Their eyes matching, (Y/N) could see the way he scanned over her features the way he always did when he was attempting to decipher where she was coming from. The lines of his features were softened, rounding into soft curves and gentling the longer her gazed at her.
"Is that something you want to try?" 
Flounder under his pressing, (Y/N) understood what he was going for—she was too shy to explicitly voice all of her wants, so he had to fill in the gaps at times—but was still taken aback none the less. Of course the thought had crossed her mind since the previous night, about what it would be like to sit with Harry and watch a different kind of movie than she usually watched with him, but the idea wasn't exactly the most compelling. 
She wasn't sure if she could really handle watching him watch someone else, and potentially become more turned on than he had even been with her. Nonetheless, she had never actually watched any porn herself, and she wasn't sure if she really had any real inclination to change that. 
But, there was something to be said about the way Harry had described the act: sharing someone to vulnerable, that is usually kept private, with someone you trust. He had a way of making these scenes sound much more romantic than the semantics did. 
"I don't know," she settled on, aware of the intensity in his eyes as he watched her, "I've never really watched anything like that, so I don't think I really understand what that would mean." 
Almost imperceptible, (Y/N) was able to catch the way his brows raised just enough. "Really?" 
Tipping her head in an almost shrug between the sheets, (Y/N) pursed her lips. "It was one of those things, you know." 
That was enough of an explanation to Harry; he knew her growing years and the drilled in obedience that followed her even after leaving home. Despite curiosity, there was no way she would have had the confidence to even make a search, that he knew.
A small curve settled on his lips, patience and understanding sitting in his eyes. "Guess that makes sense then, hm?" 
"Just add it to the list," (Y/N) joked back, a small huff of laughter falling from her lips. 
His hand on her jawline that he had used to tip her face towards him now angled itself towards the curve of her throat. His palm was warm and agnate over her skin, the pad of his thumb stretching to rest on the hinge of her jaw. "Is it something you want to know more about?" 
"Kind of," she answered honestly, sinking into the fluff of the pillow under her head, "But...Really, I think I only care about what y-you like and all of that." 
It was one of the harder admissions, (Y/N) feeling as if she were asking a bit too much into his personal thoughts. If he wanted to share that part of himself, he would have already, she figured. 
The warmth of his thumb on her cheek expanded as he pet a small trail down to the line of her jaw. "I don't really watch it anymore, love, remember?" 
"Yeah, but," she started, resisting the urge to pin her bottom lip between her teeth, "What about before?" 
When Harry paused, (Y/N)'s fingers in her shirt pulsed in an anxious curl. 
"But, you don't have to answer if you don't want to," she quickly attempted to recover, replaying her words and just how pushy they may have come off.
The amused laughter that fell from his lips was enough to reassure her that she hadn't bothered him too much. "'S alright, baby," he murmured, "I was jus' thinking." 
When he didn't immediately offer any extra information, she couldn't help herself—her curiosity was so close to gaining all the answers she needed, she didn't want it to stop now. 
"About what?" she mumbled, watching intently as he just kept thinking.
Only one side of his mouth curled upwards, his smile going lopsided. "If I should tell you, or show you." 
Now, (Y/N) had no choice but to fall silent around her dry throat. Show her?
Harry let out a small laugh at her reaction, unable to hold himself back before he was pressing a gentle kiss to the bridge of her nose between her wide eyes. 
"I take it that I should probably jus' tell you, huh?" he joked, pulling away with a brilliant smile on his lips to match the bright lilypad of his irises. 
Swallowing around her dry throat, (Y/N) spoke up, "Y-You could show me. If you think that would be easier." 
Though the request itself wasn't made with much confidence, she still was surprised it even made its way out of her mouth. Two birds with one stone, she figured, she'd finally see what it—porn—was all about, and learn something new about Harry. 
That was what she was telling herself anyway. 
Raising a single brow over his intense gaze, Harry took in her reaction. "We could do that," he mused, "But, I don't want to do that if it would make y'uncomfortable, love. It can be a bit... much, especially if you have nothing to compare it to." 
Rolling her lips between her teeth, she allowed her gaze to trace along the line of the single stray curl that rested against his temple. "I think I can handle it," she told him, her voice small as she avoided his eyes. 
Shifting his hand on her neck, Harry brought his palm to rest on her cheek. The pad of his thumb ran along the fragile skin under her eyes. "You are brave, aren't you." 
"I try," she murmured, shy smile evident in her voice. 
She could practically see the gears turning in Harry's head, his eyes flashing with just a glint of something she couldn't name. She was hyper aware of his hand once again gliding over her skin until he was carding his fingers through her hair to rest his palm on the back of her head. She matched her gaze to his bashfully. 
"Are you tired, or do y'think y'can stay up a little while longer with me?"
With a flutter of her lashes, and her heart mimicking the act, (Y/N) tugged herself that much closer to him between the sheets. 
"I can stay awake."  His lips turned into a lopsided smile, a single dimple denting his cheek as he gazed at her. (Y/N) could only tip her chin just so when he surged forward, pressing their lips together in a warming kiss. While it was chaste, there was an urgency behind it that she could feel before he pulled away. 
"Lay the other way for me, baby," he instructed with a jerk of his chin, "I need to grab m'phone." When (Y/N) didn't immediately turn to press her back to his chest, Harry lagged, keeping from reaching for his phone on the bedside. "What's wrong, hm?" 
"I don't get to see you?" (Y/N) murmured, barely keeping the whine out of her voice. She preferred seeing his eyes over everything else, knowing that it was him that was touching her. 
A soft hum of laughter fell from his lips. "'S just gonna be a little bit easier this way, love, that's all. I'll still be right here." 
"'Kay," she answered, though she didn't follow his instruction until he pressed another kiss to her puckered lips. 
With that, Harry reached to the bedside table where his phone was resting while (Y/N) twisted in the sheets to lay on her side with her back to his chest. The duvet folded, leaving her arm and back exposed to the chill while Harry took longer than a few moments to do whatever it is he was doing on his phone. 
She could hear the faint taps of his finger against the screen, scrolling and typing before he eventually curled around her. Harry conformed to the shape of her, his sweatpants-clad legs tangling with her bare ones with his arm hooking around her waist to position his phone before the two of them. He shifted the pillow under his head until she could feel the plume of his breath grazing the column of her throat, warm though it still elicited goosebumps to erupt over her skin. 
(Y/N) could feel her heart bubbling in her chest when she dared to peek at what was on his bright screen. Though there was nothing explicit or exposing on the screen, she was sure they weren't too far off with the dark color scheme of the site he had brought up. 
"Are you sure, love?" he murmured, his lips close to her ear, "We don't have to do this if y'don't want to. It can be a lot right away, and I don't want to scare you." 
Folding her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) allowed his words to roll around her head. She wasn't completely naive—she could imagine what the videos would look like, though she doubted it would look or feel the same as it did when she was underneath Harry. But, his earlier definition still stuck with her: this was a small vulnerability he was sharing with her. This is something he would normally have kept so private, but he was willing to bring her in and share something so different with her. 
She could be brave—she could keep her curiosity burning enough to keep from feeling any kind of anxiety. 
"I'm sure," she mumbled, "Thank you." 
Dropping a kiss to her shoulder, Harry hugged her to his chest for a lingering moment. "You tell me if y'change your mind, darling." 
"I will," she assured, despite his words being more of a statement than request. 
Reaching over her, Harry grabbed for his phone and began tapping at the screen. The brightness had lowered from disuse, but was brought back to life from his touch, leaving every frame illuminated once more. Snuggled against his back, (Y/N) watched, her eyes widened once the reality of the site was scrolled through. 
There was already a video pulled up on screen, showing what exactly took him so long to tap through his phone before. (Y/N) blinked, trying to decipher what was in the thumbnail before her. 
From the small snippet she could see—along with the attention grabbing, all caps title—this was a loving couple having morning sex on a Saturday to the sunrise. Very romantic and loving, supposedly. In the picture, she could see the beginnings of a sunrise through a conveniently, perfectly lit bedroom. There were gauzy drapes over their open windows and pristine white linens on their bed—even the creases and folds were artfully tufted around their bodies. (Y/N) couldn't be sure if they were just that perfect, or this was an expertly produced video. She couldn't tell the difference. 
The pair was barely clothed, their faces cut out of frame, leaving their bodies to be the star of the show. The man had tattoos—no where near as many as Harry, but still quite an array. He was undressed down his briefs, where there was a bulge that could be clearly seen against the woman's stomach. She was made of smooth swathes of skin, the ends of her hair visible as it brushed her bare skin before disappearing out of frame, and her chest bare. All (Y/N) could see that was distinctive about her form, was a small tattoo on her thigh in the shape of a red heart outline, contrasting against the white cotton panties sitting on her hips. Their limbs were in a tangle with one another, legs crossed and arms holding one another.
From behind, she could feel the brush of Harry's lips against her throat. "Does this look okay?" 
(Y/N) gave her approval in a small nod of her head, her hair brushing against her pillow. "Have you watched this before?" 
She could hear the curl of his lips in his voice as his words swept across the back of her neck. "A few times, yeah." 
As he spoke, Harry's thumb tapped on the video, pressing play and starting it up. She watched as the frames took over the screen, showing the humble beginnings of the film with the woman crawling over the bedsheets to reach her lover where he was laid back against the pillows. The soft sound of their lips meeting could be heard off screen. 
"W-When?" she asked, her line of questioning a safe distraction from what was going on in front of her. 
The soft sounds of their mouths coming together and parting filtered quietly from his phone. Were they that loud when they kissed too? 
"Not for a while," he reminded her, though his voice dropped lower into a whisper just for her when he spoke again, "Watched it for the first time after that night in my office at the shop though, I remember that." 
"You do?" Her skin warmed at the reminder of that first night—all of the things she learned that night while sprawled out on that couch. 
On video, the man had gripped the woman's hips and settled her atop him from the position she had previously held on all fours. The length of their bodies were pressed together, their faces still just perfectly out of frame to keep everything anonymous. Their kissing had turned rougher, a bit noisier as they sunk into one another. The sun outside their window was casting luminous glares over the scene, giving buttery warmth to their escalating acts. 
Harry's hand on her waist squeezed as he watched. "Yeah," Harry breathed, a heavy kiss landing on the back of her neck, "I couldn't stop thinking about you, and I saw this video and... she kind of looks like you, doesn't she?"
(Y/N)'s breath caught in her throat. There was a moment as the woman moved, her body on display against the heavy tattoos of her partner that had her seeing them in just the right light. 
Cotton panties, bare skin, delicate tattoo, all wrapped in white with the slow sharing of kisses between she and her lover. (Y/N) could see herself in that. 
It was an exhilarating feeling knowing that Harry saw someone so effortlessly sexy, and could see (Y/N) in them. 
She pressed herself against him that much more, her back against his chest. His hand on her waist tightened, as if preparing to keep her just where she was should someone try to steal her away. She could feel the fan of his breath fluttering over her skin as she watched his phone. 
The acts between the couple escalated until the camera caught the way the woman ran her hand down the man's body until she had reached his cock. Her palm was pressed against the bulge, rubbing against it through the fabric of his underwear. He moaned unabashedly off screen, whispering something for only his lover to hear. (Y/N)'s lungs squeezed when she saw the way the dots of wetness seeped over the grey underwear covering him. 
"Wh-What else do you like about this video?" (Y/N) murmured, shifting so her hand was laid over his own on her waist, their fingers tangling together. 
A breathy laugh could be heard from behind her. Harry's voice was just as low as he spoke, "Do y'really want me to talk through the whole thing?" 
"I like hearing you more," she admitted, squeezing his hand in hers. 
A delicate kiss was dropped to her shoulder, the curl of his smile evident in the small contact. "Well, other than her reminding me of my angel," he drawled, a tease to his tone, "'S different than some of the things I used to watch. I liked seeing something gentle." 
(Y/N)'s throat bobbed as she swallowed around her dry throat. Before her, the videoed couple had now moved on to sliding their hands into each other's underwear. The man's face was buried in his lover's neck, showing off a head of dark hair as his moans filtering through the small speakers. The woman's whimpering noises could be heard in tandem with the slick sounds of their hands roaming each other's bodies. 
"What was the other stuff you watched?" Absently, (Y/N) was aware of the way her hips shifted some, rubbing her backside against Harry's front. Behind her, against the curve of her bottom, she could feel something much more rigid than the blocks of his muscle beginning to press into her.
He paused before he spoke, mulling over her question while she watched on screen as the few pieces of clothing covering the couple's bodies were shed. Harry's hand on her waist shifted, leaving her own behind as he pressed his palm into the soft of her stomach. She could feel the pressure of his fingertips on her plush skin just as much as she could see the man on screen press against his lover's thigh in the same way. 
"'Member m'birthday?" he murmured into her skin, his mouth beginning a blazing trail over her shoulder. The tip of his nose caught on the neck of her top, pulling it along with him as he kissed the cuff of her shoulder. 
For a split moment, there was a different movie playing for (Y/N). This one featured she and Harry as the stars, celebrating his birthday between the sheets with his cock sinking into her throat, his palm smacking over her center, and his cum painting over her face. She wondered if he could feel the way her stomach tightened under his hand at the memories. 
"Yeah," she answered simply, the word carried on a warm breath. 
He hummed from behind her, a smug curl on his lips pressing into her shoulder. "Things like that, baby," he explained, "But I started watching things like this after I met you." 
The couple on screen was beginning to find the throes of their passion, now both bare bodied and reaching for one another. There was a part of (Y/N) that wanted to shy away at the sight of two strangers and their naked bodies, their recording of an intimate moment not sitting right in her stomach. There was another part of her that imagined Harry sitting down, pants to his thighs and his hand in his lap, picturing she and him in these spots instead as he fisted his cock. That part of her kept her from drawing her eyes away, urging her to see what he did—see what held his attention while waiting for her to be ready for more than easy touching and kisses in his bedroom.
Her mouth felt dry when she tried to speak again, only to be cut off when Harry's palm grazed the waist of her panties. Though she was still only feeling his touch through her shirt, she was sure he could feel the extra groove of fabric and the tightening of her abdomen. Only that much further, and he could fit his hand between her legs just like the man on screen was doing to his own lover. 
"Wh-Why?" she asked, building off of his previous response to keep herself from melting and begging for him to touch her when they had barely just started. 
Hooking his ankle around hers, Harry started pulling her that much more into his embrace. The sheets around them hissed over their bodies, his phone wobbling from its upright position against the pillow though it didn't fall. He pushed his thigh between her own, opening up her legs with the hem of her oversized shirt being pushed up and over her thighs. 
"I liked the idea of going slow, after I met you, love," he detailed, no longer playing around when he finally slid his hand over her form and slipped it under the end of her top, "Didn't really get off on the thought of fucking you as much as I did to kissing you and making y'happy." 
(Y/N) all but melted at his explanation. She reveled in the sound of his voice, mixing with the soft sound of the couple on screen finding their own bliss within one another. Through her hooded gaze, it was easy to see the lovers on his phone as she and Harry, the daydream building around her. 
In a tug back down to earth, (Y/N)'s breath caught when Harry fit his hand between her thighs. His wandering touch had finally reached her, pressing the heel of his palm against her clit and the length of his fingers down her center. She was sure he could feel the heat that had collected there, though she hoped she hadn't completely soaked through her underwear that quickly. 
"Y'like it so far?" he asked, pressing his palm that much harder against her clit. 
"Uh-huh," she breathlessly replied. Her hooded eyes were glued to the sight of the way the man positioned himself above her, thighs open for him to fit between. She could hear him murmur something to her, passing a hand over her form with fingertips skating across her breasts and down to the round of her hips. Every touch was careful and clinging, the sound of their kissing soundtracking the moment. "He reminds me of you." 
He hummed from behind her, his hand beginning to shift over her core in a delicate press to draw away her breath. "Yeah?" 
"Yeah," she answered, eyes stitched to the video as the man sunk his cock into his lover, a shrill whine leaving her lips while he settled against her hips. His tattoos quivered as his muscles flexed under his skin, making the stars and constellations inked over his skin dance. "You're better, but," (Y/N) swallowed, hearing the quiet slap of his skin against the woman's as he thrusted against her, "He touches her like you touch me." 
Harry's response came in the form of languid touches that warmed her skin and kept her breathless even when her eyes closed and the video was an afterthought. Underneath her, he fit his free arm to coil around her form. His thigh between her two tensed, lifting just enough so he could spread her own legs enough to give her what she wanted. 
Hooking his fingers into her panties, he pulled them to the side, a cool shiver going up (Y/N)'s spine now that she was exposed to his touch. He dragged his fingertips through her slit, collecting the drops of slick until he circled around her clit in languorous pulls. 
She had never been so thankful for the stretched out neckline of her top as she was then, when she felt Harry's heavy kisses searing into her bare skin. There was so much of him all over, pressing into her back with his cock hard against her, his kiss on her shoulder, and his hand on her core, pulling more and more air out of her lungs. 
"You know how many times I thought about doing that to you, baby?" he drawled into her skin, syrupy and thick into her pores, "Before y'were ready, this was all I had. Had to picture you letting me spread you out like that, feel how wet you were jus' for me." 
With his hand between her thighs, slick fingertips on her clit before they traveled down towards her pulsing opening, she could have cried for him. She had been depriving him of this, leaving him to only watch videos and imagine, when they could have been doing this so much sooner. She wasn't sure at times—especially at one like this—how she had even made it through without his touch. 
"I'm sorry," she stuttered out for him, her hand grasping at sheets, "Yo-You should have told me." 
A rumble of laughter was felt against her back as much as she heard the sound fan to her ears. "Don't be sorry, lovebug, y'jus' weren't ready yet, that's all. I think we're making up for it jus' fine, don't you?" 
She could only nod her head, forcing her eyes to blink open. It was a task given the fact that she was still luxuriating in the tease of his fingers passing over her entrance before smearing her clit and restarting the circuit. Looking ahead, she had seen that the couple on film was thick in their session, breathless, the man straining himself as he set a controlled pace while thrusting into his partner with the woman grasping and reaching for any part of him she could reach. Watching the way the man's skin turned pink in the wake of her nails made (Y/N) want to do the same to Harry—what would the roses on his chest and the butterfly on his torso look like filled in with a bit of color? 
"I want to see you," she blurted out, unable to hold back anymore. She didn't care much for the movie anymore anyway, he was what she wanted. This video would probably still be there later, they could explore more later, if she really wanted. 
A teasing smile could be heard in his voice, the notion making (Y/N) want to feel embarrassed through she didn't have much room for that given the way she was rutting into his hand. "Y'don't want to keep watching? I thought y'liked it, love? Liked him?" 
"I like you," she countered, already turning in his arms despite the coil of his hold around her, "I want to see you now. You're better." 
He didn't put up any more teasing argument, instead helping her as she twisted and turned in his arms until his phone was forgotten in the tufts of the duvet and she had her lips pressed to his. His and that had been between her legs was now stationed at her hip, his fingertips denting into the plush skin as she melted into him. A sigh of something that felt like relief to (Y/N) slipped from her throat.
Harry parted his lips, swiping his tongue across the seam of her mouth, tasting her noises. Reaching for his bare shoulders, (Y/N) wasn't even thinking before she had the blunt of her nails pressing to his skin, just like the woman in the video. (Who must have been having a good time given the faint noises (Y/N) could still hear among the folds of their bedding). 
She readily opened her mouth for him to slip his tongue inside, eager to get a state of him. He led her through the kiss, pressing his tongue to hers and tasting through every delicate moan and breathy exhale she gave. 
This was definitely better than watching a video. 
"Harry," she mumbled into his kiss, barely enunciating before she was urging to press her lips to his once more. 
He smiled against her mouth, allowing a small slew of her excited kisses to hit him before he pulled away enough to meet her eyes. His pupils were wide and dark, leaving only slices of murky green to ring around them. There was a flush over his cheeks, warm and red that matched the hue of his kiss-swollen lips. She couldn't help her eyes but to follow the tip of his tongue as it peeked out to wet his lips. 
"What do y'want from me love?" 
Her answer was automatic: "You." 
(Y/N)'s gaze was drawn to the dimple that was thumbed into his cheek as a lopsided curl took his lips. "I know," he said, much too smug, "But do y'want me to keep touching you? Or do y'want more, love? Gotta tell me or I can't help you."
Her mind flashed to the vision of the man fitting his hips against his lover's like a puzzle piece, sinking inside her and straining his muscles to making the best pace for her. That was what (Y/N) wanted. 
"I want more," she told him, her voice a whisper between just the two of them, "Like the video."
Harry drew closer towards he, his smile fading as the blunt of his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. "I can do that for you, baby. Do you think you're ready for me, or do y'need a little more?" 
She shook her head on instinct. "I'm ready." 
Tipping his chin, Harry pulled her into another languid kiss with his tongue touching over her lips. His kiss was a welcome distraction while his hand reached for the waist of her panties underneath the hem of her top. He pushed them down her thighs as far as he could before he was forced to break their kiss to help ease them off the rest of the way. (Y/N) felt clingy for him in that moment, already missing his touch and warmth. It wasn't much longer that he pulled his own underwear off, everything landing into a pile on the floor, before he was laying himself atop her. 
Much like the movie, she swore their hips fit like puzzle pieces together, the bones cushioned by plush skin. She reached for his arms reflexively, though she hadn't meant to grip him so tightly until she felt the head of his cock nudge against her clit. Her lungs squeezed with a coiled ribbon cinching around her stomach. 
Above her, Harry was like an angel. His eyes were bare from his usual liner, though there were still the stark black additions of his nose and lip rings pierced through his face. His skin was flushed and warm, cheeks matching his bright eyes. Around his features, his curls hung around in waved strands and curled ringlets. It wasn't the first time she had seen him like this and wondered if he was the true angel between the two. 
"Still feel good, love?" he asked, his hands fisted into anchors on either side of her head. 
Matching the intensity of his eye contact, (Y/N) kept herself from shrugging her hips against his own, wanting of feel along heavy brush of his cock against her center. "Uh-huh," she sounded, throat dry, "Please."
 Only a glimpse of his smile could be seen before he was dipping down to draw her in for another kiss. He sealed his mouth to hers, kissing her top lip delicately with the soft sounds of their lips parting and coming together to fill the room. 
For a moment, (Y/N) wondered if they would look like that couple if they were on film. If their love, and the gentle touches, and the shared heartspace could be seen just as easily. She liked to think they would do it even better. 
One of his hands on the bed disappeared, the mattress shifting without the weight, before she felt it again over the small of her stomach. It was nothing more than a soft brush before he had his fist wrapped around his cock, guiding himself inside her. The head brushed against her clit in a heavy press; she couldn't tell if she was more wet than she thought or if he had been pearling dots of precum from his tip while she was preoccupied. 
He slid his tip through her folds until he hit the pulsing entrance nestled inside. (Y/N) shivered, letting out small noise into his mouth. She could tell her was becoming distracted, his kiss slowing until he was doing nothing other than focusing on the slid of his cock through her wetness, socking in her until he finally pressed forward. 
It was a familiar stretch, the head fitting inside her, but it still took her breath away. Especially now that their box of condoms was pushed to the back of his bedside drawer, barely used unless she asked, she was able to feel every ridge and vein on his cock. She felt more and more full with every inch pushed inside her, her walls pulling him in while she attempted to keep kissing him before giving up on the act in favor of simply resting her parted lips against his own.
Harry's guiding hand had shifted to lay on her hip, his touch a bit slick though neither of them minded. He was just as lost in the feeling as he was with the way he let out shuddering breaths with stilted lungs, his hand on the other side of her head now holding a tremor. His breath came out in warm fans over her features, heating her that much further. 
He bottomed out with a wet sound of his cock sliding through her walls, his base resting heavy against her clit. (Y/N)'s hold on his arms tightened at the feeling, nails leaving imprints on his skin. 
Her heartbeat bubbled in her ears as she got her bearings, coming to with a flutter of her eyes only to see harry already looking at her with his own hooded gaze. 
"You alright?" he breathed, dilated eyes scanning over her features, "Do y'need me to wait?" 
"No, no," she bubbled off, "Please, daddy." 
That was all he seemingly needed to hear—the whine of her voice and his title so lovingly mentioned—before Harry was rearing his hips back and pressing into her once more. He split her open, her walls stretching and opening for him to fit inside with every languid thrust. The first few took her breath away, getting used to the feeling of the friction and every part of her body being fulfilled by him. 
"Daddy," she helplessly called out, her voice a shared secret for just the two of them. The sheets hissed around them, matching her volume. 
Harry watched her form above as she struggled to keep her eyes from closing. She wanted to see him; this is what she had been wanting when she decided to ditch the movie. She wanted to watch him the way they had watched the couple. 
"'M here, baby. 'M here," he murmured, his voice dropping low as his mouth fell into a gape. "Feel so good, love—fuck." 
Spurred on by his praise, (Y/N) hiked her this over his hip, the heel of her foot pressing into the back of his thigh. Her plush skin gave way to the angles of his body, cushioning him as he drove his hips into hers in lingering passes. His hand on her hip shifted then, dragging her sleep shirt the rest of the way up until her bare breasts were exposed to the heat of the room. 
His palm dragged over the swell, her nipple catching on the creases of his skin. Goosebumps erupted over her form, her lashes fluttering at the touch. Harry dipped his head down, pressing his lips to her other breast, the tip of his nose skimming across before he wrapped his mouth around her nipple. His tongue touched over the bud, warming her though she could feel the skin tightening in response. He matched the pace of his wandering touch on her other breast, allowing her to feel him in every place she needed. 
Almost. 
Feeling the base of his cock press against her clit wasn't enough. She needed more than that fleeting touch against her, more than just the harsh smear over her weeping center. 
"Daddy, I—" she cried out, her words evaporating when she felt him twitch inside her. 
"'S okay," he shushed her, his mouth popping off of her nipple before he dragged his kisses towards her collarbone, "'M here, baby. I'll give y'anything y'want." 
His words were nothing more than smeared rambles, but they sank perfectly into her brain. He was here—he had her. He wasn't a silly video, he was real and she could feel his weight and his touch and even his heartbeat. 
"I want—" she stumbled, her words failing her in the heat of the moment, "I need—Please, touch me." 
"I am touching you, baby," he countered, looking up at her through his lashes before finally leveling his gaze with hers. He hovered above her, his eyes still finding hers even as he jostled her with every thrust into her. "Y'need to tell me what y'want, and then I can help."
"My—It's—"
(Y/N) almost felt panicked, instead reaching for his hand on her breast to push it down to the apex of her thighs. His wrist strained under her hand when he realized when she was directing him towards. That was all the cue he needed before his thumb was smearing over her clit, circling and patting the bud just as she had wanted. 
All but melting into the mattress, the beginnings of a cocky curl fell on his lips. "This was what y'wanted, my love? Coulda jus' told daddy—would have done it for you earlier." 
Maybe it was feeling him splitting her walls open, slick with his precum, his hand on her clit, or the sound of his voice wrapped around his honorific, but (Y/N) could feel the bow in her abdomen tightening. 
She could only whine for him, tightening her fingers around the bones of his wrist as he kept his ministrations up. His skin glimmered in a sheen of sweat, baby curls sticking to his temples as he took care of her just as he promised. 
He caught her looking, matching his eyes to hers when she dared to travel her gaze to his clumped lashes. She expected a curl of his lips, a flash in his eyes, something teasing and smug to enter his expression. Instead, she saw the way his face rounded out, the harsh angles that usually made him up now fading into soft lines and curved edges. 
"I love you," he murmured, "So much, (Y/N). You know that?" 
This was a moment she wished she had on video, exactly from her perspective with every detail memorialized. 
Releasing her hands on his wrist and arm, she settled her palms on his cheeks. Despite the rocking of their forms, the rustling bedsheets, and his phone lost somewhere at seat, (Y/N) almost forgot about everything but his touch. 
"I love you too, honey." 
Something flashed through his gaze then, but it was decidedly softer, more delicate than anything she had ever spotted before. She never called him by many pet names, preferring his name (it was the name of the man she was in love with, she couldn't think of a better thing to call him), but there were moments she thought he might like the extra love falling from her lips.
Harry didn't waste any longer than a beat before he was smearing his lips against hers. The kiss was messy and clumsy, just off center with his tongue swiping out before she was ready, but she loved it. This was what she wanted, what had been on her mind throughout the video. 
He put more of himself into her, his hips picking up pace and his hand on her clit quickening. She felt the press of his chest every time he sank in deep inside her, splitting her walls and making more room for him than she even knew she had. Her insides clenched around him, sucking him deeper every time he sank back inside. The ribbon in her stomach was beginning to fray at the edges, unravelling more and more.
"B-Baby," Harry breathlessly crooned, pulling away just enough so she could hear, "Where do y'want m'cum? 'M al-almost there—fuck." 
She didn't have to think before she was answering him, "Inside, inside. Please, daddy. I want it inside."
There was one more twitch of his cock inside her, his head nudging against what felt like her stomach, before there was nothing left of her to give. The fraying ribbon gave way, spooling too tight inside before falling apart. She shredded around him, feeling like nothing more than glimmering fabric laying in his arms for him to toss and turn whichever way he wanted. She could feel herself grow wetter, Harry's cock slicking through her opening. 
(Y/N) clung to him, her hands on his cheeks keeping him close as she attempted to kiss him through her hazy mind. It was nothing more than her gaped mouth dropped open against his own, nothing more than absent calls of his name falling from her throat. 
Barely, she could hear Harry mumbling a declaration—that he loved her—over and over against her mouth. She felt entirely too full, everything too much, when she realized he was cumming. Just as she had begged, he let go inside her, painting her walls in pumps of his cum that mixed with her own. She wouldn't be surprised to feel the aftermath dripping over her thighs. 
By the time Harry's bedroom came back to fruition around her, (Y/N) wasn't sure if she had been breathing properly since he landed atop her. Everything around her was wispy, not quite real, other than Harry himself. He was a comforting weight, an anchor she clung to. 
Sinking atop her, he rested his cheek on top of her chest. His nose skimmed her throat as he nuzzled closer to her, the length of his lashes tickling her bare chest. 
"Y'alright, love?" he murmured, just as out of breath as she was. 
"Mhm," she hummed, wrapping her arms around him in a clumsy hug, "I love you too, by the way." 
A rumbling laugh fell from his chest. "Love you more." 
With a small kiss being pressed to her sternum, harry began to untangle himself from her hold. He righted her shirt on her torso, covering her chest and keeping out the call that was beginning to seep over their sweat-glimmered skin now that the sheets had slid off of them.
"Where are you going?" she almost whined, reaching for him when he shifted out from between her cushioning hips. 
His smile was tender, affection swimming in his lightening gaze as he looked at her. He brushed a stray hair out of her face, keeping her features clear for his admiration. "We've gotta clean up, love. Can't go to bed like this, can we?" 
Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) didn't want to answer him. He was right—she needed to use the restroom and find a different pair of underwear for the night, while Harry inevitably searched for new sheets to change the bed into. But she didn't want to do that right now. She didn't want to walk around on wobbly legs, and go through her designated drawer, or anything else. She didn't want to touch anything that wasn't him. 
Instead, (Y/N) clung to him, using her weight to tug him down until he finally relented. Harry gave in with a sigh though he couldn't keep the smile off of his face. 
"Five more minutes, 'kay?" he bargained, cuddling her into him with her face in his throat and chin on the crown of her head. He even tugged the sheet up to blanket their forms once more, keeping her warm before patting her hip through the material.
(Y/N) smiled, pecking a small kiss to his neck. 
"Five more minutes." 
She'd stretch it until ten. 
—————
I finally got around to this request so thank you for everyone bein patient!!!! thank you for reading, sorry for any mistakes and if there's any ideas or requests you have send them in !!!
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