#Fanfiction Tumblr posts

  • writerdee1701
    17.06.2021 - 2 minutes ago

    Don’t tell my mom, but I accidentally just wrote 1k of the Mandalorian chapter three instead of His Lady of the Night chapter nine. 👀

    #she’s gonna be so disappointed #she’s been really looking forward to more of #his lady of the night #but i really didn’t mean for this to happen #it just sorta... happened #my bad#also #i’m starting to think i should name this mandalorian series #cause apparently it is in fact gonna be a series and not just a one shot #lol whoops #... #fanfiction#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #just a little update
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  • anthroanimalartist
    17.06.2021 - 3 minutes ago
    #sam and max #sam and max freelance police #sam and max fanfiction #sonic the hedgehog #sonic#sth #sonic the hedgehog fanfiction #crossover #sam and max crossover #sonic the hedgehog crossover #fanfiction#my fanfiction
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  • entityupdates
    17.06.2021 - 3 minutes ago

    Updated Fanfiction Masterlist

    This blog contains status updates for fanfiction written by entity9silvergen on Ao3, FFN, and tumblr. This post contains links and a guide to all stories they have written.

    Fandoms: Pokémon, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Warriors, Marvel Comics, DC Comics, Naruto, Ben 10, Sanders Sides, Lion Guard, Avatar: Last Airbender, Disenchantment, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir, and Kid Cosmic. Crossovers, collections, and series at the bottom of the post.

    Fandom > Title > Story Details

    Sanders Sides

    Like The Pictures On Our Socials, Faking What We Show

    Summary: They really were the perfect couple. He was a star football player. Handsome, popular but not an asshole, a friend to pretty much everyone. She was a theater techie. Pretty, quiet but a good listener, got along with anyone who gave her a chance. It was the perfect facade. They’d never believe he was in love with his best friend or that she was actually a man. Or, a Roman/ Virgil fake dating AU where they’re not secretly in love.

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: M/M, Gen

    Characters: Roman, Virgil, Janus, Remus, Toby, Remy, Anton, Nate, Seth

    Relationships: Roman & Virgil, Roman/ Virgil (Fake), Referenced Patton/ Logan, Toby/ Remy, Brief Remus/ Emile, Background Janus/ Nate, Background Brian/ Harley, Background Anton/ Seth, Remus/ Janus, Roman/ Janus (Onesided)

    Other Tags: Fake Dating AU, High School AU, Prom, Prom AU, Gay Roman, Aroace Virgil, Trans Virgil, Genderfluid Remy, Genderbent Patton, Heartbreak, Genderbent Characters, Transgender Characters, Genderfluid Character, Bi Character, Asexual Character, Aromantic Character, Queer Themes, Queer Author, Oneshot, Demus, Prinxiety, Roceit, Texting, Creativitwins, Brotherly Bonding

    Warnings: Homophobia, transphobia, aphobia, misgendering, deadnaming, outing, slurs, underage drinking, implied cheating, swearing, irresponsible teenage behavior, bullying, references to metaphorical drowning, implied internalized homophobia

    Word Count: 12.5K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2021

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: Ao3


    Summary: Unable to experience romantic attraction, Remus feels incomplete. Unable to feel sexual attraction, Roman feels less than. Maybe as the King, they decide, they will feel whole again. Their partners and friends, however, know this isn’t the solution and seek to help them realize there’s nothing broken about them before it’s too late.

    Rating: T/ Teen & Up

    Category: Gen, M/M

    Characters: Roman, Remus, Janus, Virgil, Romulus, Emile Picani, Remy, Nate, Toby, Seth, Unknown Orange Side

    Relationships: Janus/ Remus, Roman, Virgil, Background Logan/ Patton, Background Emile Picani/ Remy, Background Toby/ Seth, Background Orange Side/ Nate

    Other Tags: AroWriMo, Aromantic Remus, Asexual Roman, Accepting Partners, TS Short Vid Characters, No OCs, Additional Sides, No Smut, Spider Virgil, Snake Janus, Sympathetic Dark Sides, Dark Sides, Light Sides, Neutral Sides

    Warnings: Implied Sex, Internalized Acephobia, Internalized Arophobia, Minor Violence, Fighting

    Word Count: 11.4K

    Chapter Count: 3

    Year(s) Written: 2021

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: Ao3, tumblr

    Stolen From The Violet

    Summary: A fate worse than death, Deceit claimed, but Virgil didn’t think transforming into a dragon could be so bad. After all, a dragon lives forever. But then he met a certain human who changed everything. Roman became his new reason for life, for better or for worse.

    Rating: T/ Teen & Up

    Category: Gen, M/M

    Characters: Virgil, Roman, Remus, Janus, Patton, Thomas

    Relationships: Virgil & Roman, Past Virgil/ Janus (Ambiguous), Referenced Patton/ Roman, Virgil & Thomas

    Other Tags: Songfic, Dragon Virgil, Dragon Janus, Prince Roman, Fantasy AU, Magic AU, Platonic Prinxiety, Unsympathetic Deceit,  Sympathetic Deceit, Morally Grey Deceit

    Warnings: Major Character Death, Memory Loss, Fighting & Violence

    Word Count: 22.4K

    Chapter Count: 8

    Year(s) Written: 2020

    Status: Comlpete

    Where To Read: Ao3

    Snake In The Grass

    Summary:  Janus was always alone. It was the nature of a snake but that didn’t mean he wasn’t lonely. Virgil changed that though. He should’ve known better than to trust him.

    Rating: K/ General Audiences 

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Janus, Virgil, Roman, Remy, Emile Picani, Toby, Seth, Remus, Anton

    Relationships: Janus & Virgil, Toby & Seth & Remy & Emile, Janus & Remus, Referenced Logan/ Patton

    Other Tags: Prompted Oneshot, Animal AU, Setting Inspired By Rikki Tikki Tavi, Cat Virgil, Snake Janus, Bird Remy, Bird Toby, Bird Seth, Bird Emile, Bird Anton, Badger Remus, Human Roman, Sympathetic Deceit

    Warnings: Fighting, Injury, Feelings of Betrayal, References To Death

    Word Count: 6.9K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2020

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: Ao3


    Summary: Deceit was a master of words. He could manipulate them, craft webs of lies, and twist them in his mouth but that made their true meanings all the more valuable. It was too bad the other Sides and Thomas didn't know how much words could hurt him.

    Rating: K/ General Audiences

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Janus, Thomas, Roman, Logan, Patton, Virgil, Remus

    Relationships: Janus & Thomas, Janus & Everyone

    Other Tags: Drabble, Drabble Series, Singing, Rejection, Self-Reflection, Hurt, Hurt/ Comfort, Sympathetic Dark Sides

    Warnings: Nine

    Word Count: 8.2K

    Chapter Count: 10

    Year(s) Written: 2020

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: Ao3, FFN

    Five Old Men Sitting On A Bench (Not Now, Not Ever. Ever Again)

    Summary:  Deceit lived a long life but not a happy one. He had regrets. Mountains of them. But with the end nearing, he refused to make the same mistakes that drove the Sides apart years ago. Not now, not ever. Never again. Their last day together would be their best. The Sides would die happy if he had anything to say about it.


    Category: M/M, Multi/ Poly

    Characters: Thomas, Janus, Roman, Remus, Logan, Patton, Virgil, Joan

    Relationships: Past DLAMP (Janus/ Logan/ Virgil/ Patton/ Roman), Sides & Thomas, Janus & Remus

    Other Tags: Singing, Past Relationships, Past Break Up, Making Up, Aging, Future Fic, Declarations Of Love, Old Age, Sympahtetic Deceit, Made A Lotta People Cry I’m Sorry

    Warnings: Major Character Death, Memory Loss, Dementia 

    Word Count: 12.4K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2020

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: Ao3, FFN

    When Everything Goes Wrong: Sanders Sides Edition

    Summary: Sanders Sides Incorrect Quotes Collection (15 Per Chapter)

    Rating: K/ General Audiences

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Logan, Virgil, Roman, Patton, Remus, Janus, Remy, Emile, Toby, Nate, Thomas

    Relationships: Everyone & Everyone

    Other Tags: Incorrect Quotes, Humor, Comedy, No Plot,  

    Warnings: Occasional Swearing, Typical Remus Things

    Word Count: (as of June 2021) 65K+

    Chapter Count: (as of June 2021) 100+

    Year(s) Written: 2020-Present

    Status: Incomplete, Currently Ongoing With No Plans To End

    Where To Read: Ao3, tumblr as individual posts

    Warriors Cats

    The New Horizon

    Summary: The clans discover the Three's powers and Lionblaze, Jayfeather, and Dovewing are driven out of the clan. Turning their backs on StarClan, the Three must pave the paths of their destiny on their own while their friends and family are forced to face the Dark Forest alone.

    Rating: T/ Teen & Up

    Category: Gen, M/F, M/M

    Characters: Lionblaze, Jayfeather, Dovewing, Hollyleaf, Cinderheart, Ivypool, Fallen Leaves, Tigerheart, Berrynose, Ravenpaw, Barley, Darktail

    Relationships: Jayfeather & Lionblaze & Dovewing, Referenced Cinderheart/ Lionblaze, Mentioned Jayfeather/ Half Moon, Referenced Tigerheart/ Dovewing, Implied Hollyleaf/ Fallen Leaves, Implied Ravenpaw/ Barley

    Other Tags: Protagonists As Antagonists, Lake Territories, Old Forest, Losing Faith, SkyClan, ThunderClan, The Kin, Travelling

    Warnings: Ambiguous Major Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury

    Word Count: 58.6K

    Chapter Count: 20

    Year(s) Written: 2020-2021

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: FFN, Ao3

    Chasing Stars

    Summary: Jay's Wing, Jayfeather, whatever his name was, he was just so tired. Being reborn again and again would take a toll on even the strongest of warriors. After countless reincarnations, he's just ready to give up. Fortunately for him, the new medicine cat apprentice won't let that happen.

    Rating: T/ Teen & Up

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Jayfeather, Jay’s Wing, OCs

    Relationships: Jayfeather & OC

    Other Tags: Reincarnation, Future, Medicine Cat, Selective Mutism 

    Warnings: Hopelessness, Mentions of Death

    Word Count: 5K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2020

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: FFN

    Falling Feathers

    Summary:  Jayfeather knows he's going to die. StarClan has warned him and he knows there is no use denying it. Now all he wants to do is make a few last memories with the cats he cares for... Only there is one problem. The cats closest to him are gone and his home is filled with strangers. But there's one cat Jayfeather's always been too afraid to face. His father.

    Rating: T/ Teen & Up

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Jayfeather, Crowfeather, Alderheart, Feathertail, Half Moon

    Relationships: Jayfeather & Crowfeather, Mentioned Half Moon/ Jayfeather, Crowfeather & Breezepelt, Jayfeather & Alderheart

    Other Tags: Premediated Death, Father-Son Bonding

    Warnings: Major Character Death, Stroke

    Word Count: 30K

    Chapter Count: 15

    Year(s) Written: 2019

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: FFN

    Broken Nature

    Summary:  At birth, two of Yellowfang's kits died and went to StarClan. Or so she thought. The surviving kit was named after Yellowfang's broken heart but he soon realizes that it better reflects his broken spirit. His sisters live on through him and he's not happy about it.

    Rating: T/ Teen & Up


    Characters: Brokenstar, Wishkit, Hopekit, Yellowfang, Runningnose, Nightstar, Raggedstar

    Relationships: Brokenstar & Siblings, Wishkit & Runningnose, Hopekit & Nightstar, Brokenstar & Runningnose, Past Yellowfang/ Raggedstar

    Other Tags: Angst, ShadowClan, Yellowfang’s Secret, Forest Territory

    Warnings: Major Character Death, Fighting & Violence

    Word Count: 71K

    Chapter Count: 20

    Year(s) Written: 2019

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: FFN

    The Ancient Spirits

    Summary:  The four warrior clans have enjoyed moons of peace after the battle with the Dark Forest and the Three have adjusted to the loss of their powers but when a mysterious cat shows up at the border, Jayfeather is reminded of a past as Jay's Wing unknown to Lionblaze and Dovewing. Maybe the battle was not the end of the Three.

    Rating: T/ Teen & Up

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Lionblaze, Jayfeather, Dovewing, Jay’s Wing, Bramblestar, OC

    Relationships: Three & OC, Mentioned Lionbaze/ Cinderheart

    Other Tags: Adventure, Powers, Post Dark Forest Battle

    Warnings: None

    Word Count: 76.5K

    Chapter Count: 50

    Year(s) Written: 2018

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: FFN

    The Ancient Tribes

    Summary:  After helping the Three regain their lost spirits, Crane's Wing stayed in ThunderClan instead of returning to his tribe. But after being a warrior for many moons, he receives a dream warning him of danger coming. The third tribe is returning and he is the only one who can hope to save catkind. [Sequel]

    Rating:  T/ Teen & Up

    Category: T/ Teen & Up

    Characters: Lionblaze, Jayfeather, Dovewing, Crane’s Wing

    Relationships: Lionblaze & OC, Past Lionblaze/ Cinderheart

    Other Tags: Fanmade Tribe, (Fictional) Religious Themes

    Warnings: Cult-Like Behavior, Mentioned Major Character Death

    Word Count: 50.8K

    Chapter Count: 30

    Year(s) Written: 2019

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: FFN

    Ben 10


    Summary: When the Omnitrix ends up in another star system, a young Rook Blonko ends up with the Omnitrix.

    Rating: K+/ General Audiences

    Category: Gen

    Fandom: Ben 10 (Omniverse, Original Series)

    Characters: Rook Blonko, Rook Shar, Magister Wat-Sen, Tetrax, Rook Da, Young One, Vilgax

    Relationships: Blonko & Shar & Wat-Sen & Tetrax

    Other Tags: Rook gets the Omnitrix AU, Revonnah, Worldbuilding, Tom Perkins aliens, Derrick J. Wyatt aliens, OS aliens, Blonko/ Rayona- Freeform

    Warnings: Minor cases of disassociation, canon-typical fighting and violence, (alien induced) hallucinations, appropriate panic in response to various situations, canon-typical imprisonment, canon-typical references to mutilation (minor), canon-typical xenophobia

    Word Count: 55K

    Chapter Count: 10

    Year(s) Written: 2021

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: Ao3, FFN

    When Everything Goes Wrong: Ben 10 Edition

    Summary: Incorrect Quotes (15 per chapter)

    Rating: K/ General Audiences 

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Ben, Rook, Gwen, Kevin, Zed, Max, Ben 10K

    Relationships: Gwen/ Kevin, Ben 10K/ Kai Green

    Other Tags: Humor, No Plot, Incorrect Quotes

    Warnings: None

    Word Count: ?

    Chapter Count: ?

    Year(s) Written: 2021-?

    Status: Incomplete, Currently Ongoing With No Plans To End

    Where To Read: Ao3, also crossposted to tumblr as individual posts

    Dangerous Games

    Summary:  It's October and things definitely don't seem right. Ben, Rook, Kevin, and Zed are swept off into what they believe is a Halloween prank but Gwen takes Hex's warning seriously. There is danger looming over them and... Is this Anur Transyl?

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Ben, Rook, Scout, Kevin, Zed, Gwen, Hex, Max, Doctor Victor, Zs’skayr

    Relationships: Kevin/ Gwen

    Other Tags: Writing Challenge, Spooktober 2019, Anur Transyl

    Warnings: None

    Word Count: ?

    Chapter Count: 31

    Year(s) Written: 2019-?

    Status: Hiatus

    Where To Read: FFN

    Even The Stars Can Be Rewritten

    Summary:  Recreating the universe was just so hard. So many lives, all interwoven with each other; so many cultures, all complexly unique; so man planets, all so far apart... Luckily, Ben wasn't alone.

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Ben, Serena, Bellicus

    Relationships: Ben & Serena & Bellicus

    Other Tags: Oneshot, So Long And All Thanks For Smoothies, Alien X

    Warnings: None

    Word Count: 2.8K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2019

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: FFN

    DC Comics

    In Storm Or Calm

    Summary: To convince Shining Knight that the attitudes toward queer people changed with time, Vigilante takes his boyfriend to pride. Unfortunately, Eiling attacks and the pair is outed to the world.

    Rating: T/ Teen & Up

    Category: M/M

    Fandom: Justice League, Justice League Unlimited, DC Comics

    Characters: Shining Knight | Sir Justin, Vigilante | Greg Saunders, Oliver Queen | Green Arrow, Catwoman, Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, Courtney Whitmore | Stargirl, Pat Dugan | S.T.R.I.P.E.

    Relationships: Shining Knight/ Vigilante, Background Poison Ivy/ Harley Quinn, Mentioned Green Arrow/ Black Canary, Courtney Whitmore | Stargirl & Pat Dugan | S.T.R.I.P.E.

    Other Tags: Established Relationship, Pride Month, Gay Shining Knight, Bi Vigilante, Gotham bits inspired by Harley Quinn cartoon, DCAU, Queer Characters

    Warnings: Outing, Homophobia, Canon-Typical Fighting & Violence

    Word Count: 17.9K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2021

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: Ao3

    House Rules

    Summary: Ava makes the mistake of giving Rory a list of things he cannot do on the Waverider. Now the Legends are taking out their frustrations of living together by making house rules

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen

    Fandoms: Arrowverse, DC Legends Of Tomorrow

    Characters: Mick Rory | Heat Wave, Ray Palmer | The Atom, Zari Tomaz, John Constantine, Charlie, Nate Haywood | Steel, Gary Green, Mona, Sarah Lance | White Canary, Ava Sharpe

    Relationships: Sarah Lance/ Ava Sharpe

    Other Tags: Listfic, Humor, Crack, Crackfic, Comedy, Family, Fluff, Early Season 4

    Warnings: None

    Word Count: 8.4K

    Chapter Count: 10

    Year(s) Written: 2019

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: FFN

    Quick To Rise

    Summary:  Earth 27's speedster got his speed quite unlike any speedster on any other Earth thanks to his Earth's unique connection to the Hyper Heaven. How did Eddie Thawne discover it? What prompted Johnny Quick's Rise to power?

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen

    Fandoms: Arrowverse, CW Flash, Barry Lyga's Flash

    Characters: Eddie Thawne, Johnny Quick

    Relationships: None

    Other Tags: Earth 27, 

    Warnings: Corrupt Cops, Major Character Death, Unhealthy Behavior, Emotional Distress, Killing, Death, Fighting

    Word Count: 10K

    Chapter Count: 5

    Year(s) Written: 2018-2019

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: FFN



    Summary: Everyone lost someone that day but after the Battle of the Earth, everyone got that someone back.

    Fandom: MCU, Avengers, Endgame

    Rating: K+

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Peter Parker | Spiderman, Ned Leeds, Clint Barton | Hawkeye, Laura Barton, Gamora, Natasha | Black Widow, Wanda Maximoff | Scarlet Witch, Peter Quill | Star Lord, Rocket Raccoon, Groot, James “Rhodey” Rhodes | War Machine, Kraglin, Mantis, Nebula, Drax, Wong, Steven Strange | Dr. Strange, T'Challa | Black Panther, M'Baku | Man-Ape, Steven Rogers | Captain America, Peggy Carter   

    Relationships: Peter Parker & Ned Leeds, Clint Barton | Hawkeye/ Laura Barton, Clint Barton | Hawkeye & Gamora, Natasha | Black Widow & Gamora, Clint Barton | Hawkeye & Wanda Maximoff | Scarlet Witch,  Peter Quill | Star Lord/ Gamora, Rocket Raccoon & James “Rhodey” Rhodes | War Machine, Rocket Raccoon & Groot, Wong & Steven Strange | Dr. Strange, T'Challa | Black Panther & M'Baku | Man-Ape,  Steven Rogers | Captain America/ Peggy Carter    

    Other Tags: Drabble Series, Hurt/ Comfort

    Warnings: Mentions Of Death

    Word Count: 11.2K

    Chapter Count: 11

    Year(s) Written: 2019-2020

    Status: Complete, possibility of future installments

    Where To Read: FFN

    Sister Light And Brother Dark

    Summary:  Ten years after the death of Tony Stark, his daughter finds an old journal of his but it's not what she expects. This is the journal of someone named Ultron whose last name arises many questions and threatens to tear Morgan's life apart.

    Fandom: MCU, Avengers, Endgame, Age of Ultron

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: M/M, M/ F, Gen

    Characters: Morgan Stark, Happy Hogan, Steven Rogers | Captain,  American, Pepper Pots

    Relationships: Past Tony Stark | Iron Man/ Pepper Pots, Past Tony Stark | Iron Man/ Steven Rogers | Captain America

    Other Tags: Requested Oneshot, Ultron

    Warnings: References To Major Character Death, References To Cheating, Homophobia

    Word Count: 6.9K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2019

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: FFN

    Avatar: Last Airbender

    The Spirits Threw Down Their Spears And Watered Heaven With Their Tears

    Summary: Weak at birth, Tui asked Agni and the Blue Spirit to give the Fire Nation’s prince life. A few months later, she asked La and Tienhai to do the same for the Northern Water Tribe’s princess. She hoped they would live normal lives. She didn’t expect them to gain the power of transformation. A dragon and a sea serpent, they don’t have much of a place in human society but all the loneliness was worth the wait to find each other and people who would accept them

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen, M/F

    Characters: Zuko, Yue, Pakku, Arnook, Tui, Agni, La, Wolf Spirit

    Relationships: Zuko & Yue, Zuko/ Yue (Ambiguous), Tui/ La, Tui & Agni, Zuko & Arnook, Zuko & Pakku, Agni & Blue Spirit, Blue Spirit & Zuko

    Other Tags: Dragon Zuko, Sea Serpent Yue, spirits, Weredragon Zuko, Wereserpent Yue, spirit pov, Northern Water Tribe, Water Tribe Zuko, Northern Water Tribe Zuko, Blue Spirit Zuko, references to the comics

    Warnings:  Major Character Death, Canon Character Death, injury, canon injury

    Word Count: 27K

    Chapter Count: 8

    Year(s) Written: 2021

    Status: Compleye

    Where To Read: Ao3, FFN, tumblr

    When Everything Goes Wrong: ATLA Edition

    Summary: ATLA Incorrect Quotes (15 per chapter)

    Rating: K+/ General Audiences

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Aang, Sokka, Suki, Zuko, Katara, Toph, Momo, Appa, Mai, Ty Lee, Azula

    Relationships: Inconsistent 

    Other Tags: Incorrect Quotes, No Plot, Humor, Queer Themes

    Warnings: None

    Word Count: ?

    Chapter Count: ?

    Year(s) Written: 2020-?

    Status: Incomplete, Currently Ongoing With No Plans To End

    Where To Read: Ao3, originally posted on @/atlamomo on Twitter, crossposted to tumblr as individual posts

    He Is Mild, He Is Meek

    Summary: Suki always wanted three things in life. One was to become a professional soccer player. The second was to live in a cute apartment filled with succulents. The third was to get a cat.

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Suki, Momo, Sokka, Aang

    Relationships: Suki & Momo, Suki & Sokka, Mentioned Aang/ Katara

    Other Tags: AroWriMo 2021, Trans Suki, Aromantic Suki, Lesbian Suki, Aromantic Allosexual Character, Bisexual Sokka, Trans Aang, Cat Momo, Pet Adoption

    Warnings: Mention of sex

    Word Count: 6.5K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2021

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: Ao3, tumblr

    We Dance To Fast Music

    Summary: Zuko didn’t like to dance. Neither did Mai. But Ty Lee did and they’d do it for her. Fortunately for them, Ty Lee cared about how they felt and wanted to show them just how wonderful music could be. All Zuko and Mai knew were slow dances, the things of ballrooms and romance. Ty Lee only knew the dances of friendship, freedom, and fun.

    Rating: K+/ General Audiences

    Category: Gen, Ambiguous multi relationships

    Characters: Zuko, Sokka, Suki, Ty Lee, Mai, Toph, Aang, Katara

    Relationships: Aang/ Katara, Ambiguous relationships (combinations of Zuko, Mai, Ty Lee, Suki, and Sokka)

    Other Tags: AroWriMo, Prompted, Dancing, Wedding, Music, Fire Nation Culture, Platonic Relationships

    Warnings: None

    Word Count: 7.9K

    Chapter Count: 3

    Year(s) Written: 2021

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: Ao3, tumblr

    The World Was Made By Gran Gran’s Face

    Summary: Drabbles where Sokka reflects on his life and the war.

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Sokka, Zuko, Suki, Gran Gran, Hakoda

    Relationships: Sokka & Gran Gran, Mentioned Suki/ Sokka

    Other Tags: Drabble collection, Reflection, War, No Dialogue

    Warnings: None

    Word Count: 8.5K

    Chapter Count: 10

    Year(s) Written: 2020-2021

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: Ao3, tumblr

    The World Was Red

    Summary: The world was red and Sokka didn't know how long he could keep Toph from falling off that airship

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Sokka, Toph, Suki

    Relationships: Sokka & Suki & Toph

    Other Tags: Poem, No Dialogue, Removed Chapter From The World Was Made By Gran Gran’s Face

    Warnings: Near Death Experience

    Word Count: <1K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2021

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: FFN

    Momo & Zuko

    Summary:  Zuko wasn't expecting to be accepted into the group very quickly. He didn't expect the Avatar's lemur to be the first to do so either.

    Rating: K/ General Audiences 

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Zuko, Momo

    Relationships: Zuko & Momo

    Other Tags: Friendship

    Warnings: Mentions of Canonical Genocide

    Word Count: 1.7K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2020

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: FFN


    Heels On The Linoleum 

    Summary:  Nurse Joy enters the Pokémon Center for the first time since graduating nursing school.

    Rating: K+/ General Audiences

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Nurse Joy, Chansey 

    Relationships: Nurse Joy & Chansey

    Other Tags: Drabble, Trans Female Character, Trans Nurse Joy

    Warnings: None

    Word Count: <1K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2021

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: Ao3


    Summary: Blake has always been unhappy with his life in Pewter City and had never considered becoming a Pokemon Trainer until he befriended a wild Ivysaur and decided to follow a new path.

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen

    Characters: OCs

    Relationships: OC & Pokemon

    Other Tags: Writing Challenge, Ivysaur, In-Game Universe, Original Characters

    Warnings: References to Depression, Mentions of Death, Injury

    Word Count: 32.8K

    Chapter Count: 15

    Year(s) Written: 2018

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: FFN


    Summary: As a child, Professor Sycamore took a pokemon journey of his own. From traveling through the region, catching pokemon, befriending trainers, and fighting off pokemon poachers, Augustine learns why pokemon are such amazing creatures and discovers his love for them that leads him to become Kalos's pokemon professor.

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Professor Augustine Sycamore, Riley, Buck, Myer, Sophie

    Relationships: Sycamore & Riley, Sycamore & Pokemon, Riley & Pokemon, Sycamore & Myer & Sophie & Buck

    Other Tags: Pokemon XY, Lucario, Litleo, Starter Pokemon, Kalos Adventure

    Warnings: Death

    Word Count: ?

    Chapter Count: Around 50 written, less than 20 posted as of June 2021

    Year(s) Written: 2017

    Status: Hiatus 

    Where To Read: FFN


    Thought That Cupid Shot Me With Love But It Was Only An Aro

    Summary: Soulmates were supposed to be the other half of your soul. Your one true love. Ino always dreamed of finding her soulmate. Sai never wanted one. Still, they cared for each other so they were going to make it work. Somehow.

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: M/F

    Characters: Sai, Ino, Kakashi, Shikamaru, Choji, Shin

    Relationships: Sai & Ino, Sai/ Ino, Mentioned Kakashi/ Gai

    Other Tags: AroWriMo 2021, Aromantic Character, Soulmate AU

    Warnings: Aphobia

    Word Count: 10K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2021

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: Ao3, FFN, tumblr

    Dreaming Is A Universal Language

    Summary:  Gaara has suffered from insomnia his entire life thanks to the Tailed Beast Sealed into him but he's finally been freed from Shukaku's influence and can finally sleep… If he can remember how. He might need some help from his overbearing, over affectionate siblings.

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Gaara, Temari, Kankuro

    Relationships: Gaara & Temari & Kankuro

    Other Tags: Family, Fluff, Insomnia, Cuddles

    Warnings: Shukaku

    Word Count: 2.9K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2019

    Status: Compleye

    Where To Read: FFN

    Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2012)

    Four Corners Of The Earth

    Summary:  The four turtle brothers have lived apart for nearly their entire lives after being ripped from Splinter's care as children. Whey they come into contact again, each turtle must decide whether to continue their lives or return to their family.

    Rating: T/ Teen & Up

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Leonardo, Tiger Claw, Karai, Rocksteady, Michelangelo, Bebop, Leatherhead, Mondo Gecko, Raphael, Slash, Fishface, Casey Jones, Donatello, Rockwell, Rahzar, April O’Neil, Splinter, Shedder 

    Relationships: Leo & Tiger Claw & Karai & Rocksteady,  Michelangelo & Bebop & Leatherhead & Mondo Gecko, Raphael & Slash & Fishface & Casey Jones, Donatello & Rockwell & Rahzar & April O’Neil

    Other Tags: AU, Found Family, Adventure, Series Installment

    Warnings: Major Character Death, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Fighting & Violence

    Word Count: 21.7K

    Chapter Count: 14

    Year(s) Written: 2018

    Status: Complete, undergoing editing

    Where To Read: FFN

    Four Corners Of The Earth: Prequel

    Summary: Oneshots and short stories in the Four Corners AU

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Leonardo, Tiger Claw, Karai, Rocksteady, Michelangelo, Bebop, Leatherhead, Mondo Gecko, Raphael, Slash, Fishface, Casey Jones, Donatello, Rockwell, Rahzar, April O’Neil, Splinter, Shedder

    Relationships: Varies

    Other Tags: Family, Adventure, Origins

    Warnings: Varies

    Word Count: < 80K

    Chapter Count: 30 (ongoing)

    Year(s) Written: 2018-?

    Status: Hiatus (as of 12/31/2018)

    Where To Read: FFN

    Four Corners Of The Earth II: Clans And Kraang

    Summary: With the four turtle brothers reunited once more, the Hamato Clan has been restored but the mutants aren't ready to relax. The remains of the Foot are rising up once again and strange aliens have appeared in New York. How will the new Hamtos handle facing figures from their pasts? How will the turtles combat the Kraang's interest in them?

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Leonardo, Tiger Claw, Karai, Rocksteady, Michelangelo, Bebop, Leatherhead, Mondo Gecko, Raphael, Slash, Fishface, Casey Jones, Donatello, Rockwell, Rahzar, April O’Neil, Splinter, Shedder

    Relationships: Leo & Tiger Claw & Karai & Rocksteady,  Michelangelo & Bebop & Leatherhead & Mondo Gecko, Raphael & Slash & Fishface & Casey Jones, Donatello & Rockwell & Rahzar & April O’Neil

    Other Tags: AU, Found Family, Adventure, Series Installment

    Warnings: Canon-Typical Fighting & Violence

    Word Count: ?

    Chapter Count: ?

    Year(s) Written: 2018-?

    Status: Hiatus (see first chapter for details)

    Where To Read: FFN

    Funeral Fight

    Summary:  When the turtles and their allies head to the farmhouse for Splinter's funeral, their pets go for a walk in the woods. Chompy Picasso, Ice Cream Kitty, and Dr. Cluckingsworth MD run into a dangerous foe and they must fight for their lives.

    Rating: K+/ General Audiences

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Ice Cream Kitty, Chompy Picasso, Dr. Cluckingsworth MD

    Relationships: Ice Cream Kitty & Chompy Picasso & Dr. Cluckingsworth MD

    Other Tags: Requested Oneshot, Crack, Humor, Family

    Warnings: Canon-Typical Fighting & Violence

    Word Count: 6K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2018

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: FFN

    Lion Guard

    Siku Ya Wazazi

    Summary: Simba and Bunga have never gotten along but on the day of Siku Ya Wazazi, Parents Day, they decide to do something special for their adoptive dads Timon and Pumbaa.

    Rating: K/ General Aduiences

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Simba, Bunga, Timon, Pumbaa, 

    Relationships: Simba/ Nala, Simba & Bunga, Timon & Pumbaa, Simba & Bunga & Timon & Pumbaa

    Other Tags: Family, Fluff

    Warnings: None

    Word Count: 2.5K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2020

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: FFN



    Summary: We are just mosaics of everyone we love and that mosaic shows everyone we love how beautiful they are. Bean doesn't think she can love like everyone else but maybe that's okay.

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen

    Characters: Bean

    Relationships: Bean & Everyone

    Other Tags: AroWriMo, No Dialogue, Aromantic Character, Aroallo Character

    Warnings: None

    Word Count: 2K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2021

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: Ao3, FFN, tumblr


    I Used To Dream, I used To Fly

    Summary: After Papa G’s untimely death, the Kid is adopted by a man named Hal Jordan and his son Ben Tennyson. Things are good but there are still aliens after the Stones of Power and Kid doesn’t know why. Maybe he’ll get some answers in Bellwood.

    Rating: K/ General Audiences

    Category: Gen, M/F

    Fandoms: Kid Cosmic, Ben 10, Green Lantern, DC Comics- All Media Types

    Characters: Kid Cosmic, Ben Tennyson, Hal Jordan, Jimmy Jones, Jo

    Relationships: Past Hal Jordan/ Carol Ferris, Mentioned Ben Tennyson/ Jo, Kid Cosmic & Ben Tennyson | Ben 10 & Hal Jordan | Green Lantern, Kid Cosmic & Ben 10, Kid Cosmic & Hal Jordan, Kid & Jimmy Jones, Kid & Tuna Sandwich

    Other Tags: Adoption AU, Crossover, Father-Son Relationship, Brotherly Bonding, Family Bonding, Alien Powers, Secret Identities, Friendship, Childhood

    Warnings: Mentioned Major Character Death

    Word Count: 10K

    Chapter Count: 5

    Year(s) Written: 2021

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: Ao3, FFN


    Summary: A pair of Osmosians plagued by visions, a lost Necrofriggian, an outcast Sludgepuppy, an ostracized Cerebrocrustacean, a mocked Nagasapien. Some species have advantages over others, some do not, but these six won't let the Plumber Academy or Servantis keep them from becoming who they're meant to be.

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen

    Fandoms: Sanders Sides, Ben 10

    Characters: Roman, Remus, Patton, Logan, Virgil, Deceit (Janus), Rook Blonko, Scout, Ben Tennyson, Kevin Levin, Helen Wheels, Pierce Wheels, Manny Armstrong, Alan Albright, Argit, Servantis

    Relationships: Roman & Remus, Scout & Rook & Logan & Patton & Virgil & Deceit, 

    Other Tags: Worldbuilding, Sanders Sides As Aliens, Plumber Academy

    Warnings: Canon-Typical Fighting & Violence, Visions

    Word Count: ?

    Chapter Count: 30

    Year(s) Written: 2020-?

    Status: In Progress

    Where To Read: Ao3, FFN

    Nightmare Before Sunset

    Summary: One was four and four was one. The sharp eyed jay, the roaring lion, the gentle dove, and the great fire's reign has ended. Now comes the rise of new heirs. Vigilance, bravery, love, and intellect seize power of time passed. Light will overcome darkness. Or, the Dark Forest has returned and a new group of cats must rise up to fulfill the prophecy.

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen

    Fandoms: Sanders Sides, Warriors Cats, TS Shorts, Cartoon Therapy

    Characters: Virgil, Logan, Roman, Remus, Patton, Janus

    Relationships: Virgil & Janus, Virgil & Jayfeather, Patton & Roman, Janus & Remus, Logan & Remus

    Other Tags: Gift For A Friend, Sides Use Different Names, Dark Forest, No OCs, Short Vid Characters, Cartoon Therapy Characters

    Warnings: Canon-Typical Fighting & Violence

    Word Count: 100K

    Chapter Count: 20

    Year(s) Written: 2019-2020

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: Ao3, FFN

    Princes Are Always Just Out Of Reach

    Summary: He was everything she wanted and it hurt to find out he was also everything she couldn’t have. But where Marinette can't have a boyfriend in Roman, she found a friend in Remus.

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen, M/M

    Fandoms: Sanders Sides, Miraculous

    Characters: Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Remus, Roman, Tikki, Plagg

    Relationships: Remus & Roman, Onesided Roman/ Marinette, Roman/ Virgil, Remus & Marinette, Remus & Plagg, Marinette & Tikki

    Other Tags: One-Sided Relationship, Remus As Chat Noir, Prinxiety, Akuma Attack, Secret Identity Reveal

    Warnings: Canon Typical Fighting & Violence, Rejection

    Word Count: 10.8K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2020

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: Ao3, FFN

    Why Don’t You Play Me One Of Your Songs?

    Summary: Logan professes his love for Patton through song.

    Rating: K+/ General Audiences

    Category: M/M

    Fandoms: Sanders Sides, BoJack Horseman

    Characters: Logan, Patton

    Relationships: Patton/ Logan

    Other Tags: Valentine’s Day Fic, Songfic

    Warnings: None

    Word Count: 1.4K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2021

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: tumblr, Ao3

    Island Visitors

    Summary: The Turtles are transported to another world where the creatures from their new favorite game/ tv show are real.

    Rating:  K/ General Audiences

    Category: Gen

    Fandoms: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Pokemon

    Characters: Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, Donatello, April O’Neil, Casey Jones, Splinter | Hamato Yoshi, Ice Creak Kitty, Riley 

    Relationships: TMNT Characters & Riley

    Other Tags: Crossover, Transportation to Another Universe

    Warnings: None

    Word Count: 3.5K

    Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

    Year(s) Written: 2018

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: FFN


    Twist The Sinews Of Thine Story

    Summary: AU where Rook gets the Omnitrix.

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen

    Fandom(s): Ben 10

    Characters: Rook Blonko, Rook Shar, Tetrax Shard, Wat-Sen, Scout, Bahrvad, Xylene, Rayona, Young One | Rook Ben, Rook Da, Ben Tennyson, Kevin Levin, Gwen Tennyson

    Relationships: Rook & Scout, Rook & Shar, Rook & Tetrax & Wat-Sen & Shar, Bahrvad & Xylene

    Other Tags: Worldbuilding, Revonnah, Galvan Prime, Anur Transyl, Plumber Academy, Tom Perkins Aliens, Derrek J. Wyatt Aliens, Rook/ Rayona- Freeform, Political Themes

    Warnings: Canon-Typical Fighting & Violence

    Word Count: ?

    Total Installment Count: ?

    Year(s) Written: 2021-?

    Status: Ongoing

    Where To Read: Ao3 (Part 1), FFN

    Installments (See above): Mutability, I May Be A Monster But You’re Dr. Frankenstein, High Tide At Home

    Four Corners Of The Earth

    Summary: The turtles are separated at a young age and scattered across the globe. But, as Master Splinter is dying, he contacts them all and they, along with their new families, return to New York to reform the Hamato Clan.

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen

    Fandom(s): TMNT 2021

    Characters: Leonardo, Tiger Claw, Karai, Rocksteady, Michelangelo, Bebop, Leatherhead, Mondo Gecko, Raphael, Slash, Fishface, Casey Jones, Donatello, Rockwell, Rahzar, April O’Neil, Splinter, Shedder 

    Relationships: Leo & Tiger Claw & Karai & Rocksteady,  Michelangelo & Bebop & Leatherhead & Mondo Gecko, Raphael & Slash & Fishface & Casey Jones, Donatello & Rockwell & Rahzar & April O’Neil

    Other Tags: AU, Found Family, Adventure

    Warnings: Canon-Typical Fighting & Violence, Kidnapping, Major Character Death

    Word Count: ?

    Total Installment Count: ?

    Year(s) Written: 2018-?

    Status: Hiatus/ Ongoing

    Where To Read: FFN (Part 1, Part 2, Prequel) 

    Installments (See above): Four Corners Of The Earth, Four Corners Of The Earth II: Clans And Kraang, Four Corners Of The Earth: Prequel

    The Ancients

    Summary: After the Dark Forest battle, a stranger visits the clans from a distant land to tell the three that their powers are not lost and their destiny is not over.

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen

    Fandom(s): Warriors Cats

    Characters: Lionblaze, Jayfeather, Dovewing, OC

    Relationships: Lionblaze & OC, Lionblaze/ Cinderheart, Past Jayfeather/ Half Moon, Jayfeather & Lionblaze, Lionblaze & Jayfeather & Dovewing

    Other Tags: Adventure, Friendship, Tribes

    Warnings: Canon Typical Fighting & Violence, Cults

    Word Count: ~117K

    Total Installment Count: ?

    Year(s) Written: 2018-2019

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: FFN (Part 1, Part 2)

    Installments (See above): The Ancient Spirits, The Ancient Tribes

    Moon’s Blessings

    Summary: Weak at birth, Zuko and Yue are blessed by the spirits and gievn the power of transformation.

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen, M/F

    Fandom(s): ATLA

    Characters: Zuko, Yue, Pakku, Arnook, Aang, Sokka, Katara

    Relationships: Ambiguous Zuko/ Yue, Tui/ La, Pakku & Zuko, Yue & Arnook

    Other Tags: Weredragon, Dragon Zuko, Sea Serpent Yue

    Warnings: Canon Major Character Death, Canon Depictions Of Abuse, Abandonment

    Word Count: ?

    Total Installment Count: ?

    Year(s) Written: 2021-?

    Status: Ongoing

    Where To Read: Ao3 (Part 1), FFN

    Installments (See above): The Spirits Threw Down Their Spears And Watered Heaven With Their Tears

    Just Out Of Reach

    Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Remus Agreste gain the powers of Miraculous bearers and protect Paris as Ladybug and Chat Noir.

    Rating: T/ Teen

    Category: Gen, M/M

    Fandom(s): Sanders Sides, Miraculous

    Characters: Remus, Roman, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Virgil, Janus, Tikki, Plagg

    Relationships: Roman/ Virgil, Remus & Roman, Virgil & Janus, Marinette & Remus, Marinette & Tikki, Remus & Plagg

    Other Tags: No OCs, TS Shorts Characters, Akuma Attacks, 

    Warnings: Canon-Typical Fighting & Violence, Rejection

    Word Count: ?

    Total Installment Count: 2

    Year(s) Written: 2020-?

    Status: Ongoing

    Where To Read: Ao3 (Part 1), FFN (Part 1)

    Installments (See above): Princes Are Always Just Out Of Reach


    When Everything Goes Wrong

    Summary: Incorrect Quotes Collections

    Rating: K+/ General Audiences

    Category: Gen

    Fandom(s): Sanders Sides, TS Shorts, Cartoon Therapy, ATLA, Ben 10

    Other Tags: Incorrect Quotes, Humor

    Word Count: ?

    Total Installment Count: 3 (More may be added)

    Year(s) Written: 2020-?

    Status: Ongoing, Neverending

    Where To Read: Ao3

    Installments (See above): Sanders Sides Edition, ATLA Edition, Ben 10 Edition

    AroWriMo 2021

    Summary: Short stories written for Aromantic Writing Month 2021

    Rating: Varies

    Category: Gen, M/M

    Fandom(s): Sanders Sides, ATLA, Naruto, Disenchantment

    Other Tags: Queer Themes, Queer Author

    Word Count: 38K

    Total Installment Count: 5

    Year(s) Written: 2021

    Status: Complete

    Where To Read: Ao3, tumblr

    Installments (See above): Thought That Cupid Show Me With Love But It Was Only An Aro, Mosiac, We Dance To Fast Music, Oblique, He Is Mild He Is Meek

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  • d1g1t4lc0rrupt10n
    17.06.2021 - 3 minutes ago

    I meant to post this sooner, but the sinus infection threw me off my game before I could finish it. Technically this exists in the Haunted by the Past universe as Epilogue Part 2, but it works as a stand alone as well. Sorry, it's a long one, but I didn’t have the heart to cut it.

    The Island

    “If you won’t tell me where we’re going, can you at least tell me how much longer?” I pushed.

    We'd been driving for a few hours now to our mystery vacation spot that Jake refused to divulge. In the past 6 months he had taken me to a few surprise weekend vacation spots, but they were usually just inns in very scenic locations. This time he was even more anxious and stressed about our arrival to the location.

    “Not much longer,” he smiled.

    I looked out the window at the wooded road. The forest was starting to thin and then suddenly cleared. The great open sea was before us as the road descended towards the waterfront.

    “Oh wow,” I gasped.

    “It’s a great view,” Jake grinned.

    As we approached the waterfront, I noticed an island not too far off the coast. I expected Jake to turn into the hotel there along the waterfront, but instead he continued to the docks.

    “We're going on a boat?” I looked at him quizzically.

    “How else do you get to an island?” his grin only got bigger as he parked the car.

    My excitement just kept growing as I got out of the car. To further my surprise, Jake grabbed our luggage from the back. We'd be spending the entire weekend on the island, not just the day. He saw my gleeful smile and couldn’t help but mirror it as well. He took my hand and led us towards the ferryman waiting for us at the docks.

    “Jake and MC, I presume,” the ferryman smiled. “Please let me take your suitcase and find a seat. We’ll set off right away.”

    “What? Just us?” I asked confused as Jake handed over the suitcase. He kept his backpack on him.

    “I did mention the owner owed me a favor,” Jake reminded me of a conversation we had long ago.

    “What do you mean?” I questioned.

    “You will have the inn to yourselves this weekend,” the ferryman chimed in. “As agreed upon.”

    “The entire inn!?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

    “And as agreed, the staff will vacate the property after dinner and return in the morning for breakfast service,” the ferryman continued.

    Jake smirked, “In other words...”

    “The island will be deserted,” I gasped.

    “And with internet,” Jake grinned. “See? It is possible.”

    I poked him in the gut and got on board the ferry. Jake followed me on and we sat down towards the front, immediately holding hands.

    “You’re planning something,” I eyed Jake as the engine started.

    “Am I?” he teased with a sly smile. “I guess you’ll have to see when the time comes.”

    I poked him in the gut again.


    As much as Jake was trying to make it romantic, it was still eerie to have a 20 bedroom inn all to yourself with a skeleton crew to look after your needs. When we arrived, we were quickly shown to the best room, the honeymoon suite with its fabulous view looking out onto the sea. I could’ve stared at the rolling waves all day, but Jake wanted to explore the island instead.

    It wasn’t a terribly big island. You could walk the longest distance in less than an hour, but the island did have beautifully manicured gardens at the back that you could get lost in. As the center of the gardens there was a large bird bath with benches around to sit and relax, which we did for a short while before continuing. The end of the gardens themselves opened onto a field that led to a steep cliff face that the waves crashed against.

    “I can’t believe this place,” I turned to Jake in amazement. “I still don't understand how. It must cost a fortune.”

    “Worth every cent,” Jake smiled at me. “I heard the nights are even more amazing here.”

    “We’ll have to come back at night. I wonder if they have any blankets we could borrow,” I thought out loud.

    “I'm sure we can find some,” Jake replied. “Come on, you haven't seen the beach yet.”

    We continued our exploration of the island past the docks where we landed down to the beach that faced the continent. As the beach was more protected, the waves were calmer and made for a great swimming beach if the weather was right.

    “I want to come back during summer,” I gushed.

    Jake laughed, “Of course you do, but we can't possibly afford the summer rates.”

    I sighed and took off my shoes and socks to dip my toes in, “Yup, that's cold.”

    I still walked down the beach along the water’s edge to marvel at the coastline as the sun started to set. When I turned around to face Jake I noticed he had been taking photos of me with his phone. I smiled at him and he took one last one, then smiled back.

    “We should head back for dinner,” Jake suggested.

    “Oh right, that sooner we finish dinner, the sooner the staff desert the island,” I nodded and walked back to Jake.


    Back in the room I changed into a casual dress for dinner. Jake stayed in his hoodie and jeans, not that I had expected him to change. It weirded me out when he wasn’t wearing his hoodie, like he was missing a part of him.

    Jake’s eyes lit up when he saw me step out of the bathroom after I freshened up. He put his phone away and smiled, “You’re so beautiful.”

    “Won’t you accompany me to dinner, good sir?” I teased.

    Jake stood up from sitting on the end of rhe bed and walked over to me. His eyes were tender and loving. “How could I ever say no to you?”

    Jake caressed my cheek as he lowered his lips to mine, barely touching them. Our foreheads pressed together as he looked deeply into my eyes, teasing the tiniest gap between our lips.

    “This is a slippery slope,” I bit my lip.

    Jake brushed the tip of his nose against mine and smirked, “Room service is still an option.”

    I shook my head, “We have the entire place to ourselves. We might as well appreciate it.” Jake nodded then took my hand to lead us down to the dining room.

    The room as warm and cosy, looking out on the gardens outside. The staff didn’t bother with menus as we had already made our requests for our dinner when we arrived. So we just sat at the candlelit table in the middle of the empty dining room enjoying our drinks and making idle conversations until our dinners were ready, which was the best prepared food I had ever eaten accompanied by the finest wine I had ever drank. Even Jake had some of the wine as he no longer had to fear attack, he could simply enjoy life.

    After we finished eating and enjoying the mood, we went to stroll the island at night. The gardens were lit by fairy lights, which transformed it into a magical wonderland. Even though we had explored it during the day, it felt completely new at night.

    Eventually we reached the back of the gardens and approached the cliff. At some point Jake had made the request for blankets and pillows. It was all set up and waiting for us. As we approached the blankets, I felt a chill and shivered. Jake wrapped his arms around me from behind.

    “Look,” he whispered in my ear. I turned to see his attention on the dock. The boat had just set off from the island. “There they go. It’s just us now on this island.”

    I bit my lip to hold back the overwhelming emotions. We had been through so much together that even now this still felt like a dream. My eyes closed so my other senses could take over. I wanted to burn every single part of this moment into my memory. Suddenly I felt cold again. Jake was no longer behind me. I opened my eyes and saw him.

    Under the clear, starry sky there he knelt before on one knee. In his hands was a small opened box which held the brightest star of all. His voice shook as he had not expected the next words to be so difficult even though we both already knew my answer.

    “M-MC...” he stuttered.

    “Yes!” I exclaimed.

    “I didn’t finish,” he smiled.

    “You didn’t have to,” I grinned.

    “You told me to do it properly,” he pointed out.

    “Ok, ok, go again,” I gave him a moment.

    He laughed, feeling a bit more at ease now. “MC, to say you complete me is an understatement. You are my everything. Life isn’t life without you in it. So what I'm trying to say is...” he took a deep breath before continuing, “Will you marry me?”

    I smiled from ear-to-ear, but now even my voice shook. “Yes,” I responded softly.

    Jake’s face lit up brighter than I had ever seen him before, but he was motionless as if he was in shock.

    “The ring,” I whispered.

    “Oh,” he blushed.

    He carefully took the ring out of its tiny box, then gently lifted my hand to place the ring on my finger. At this point I couldn’t wait any longer and threw my arms around him, nearly causing him to fall over. He sat back onto the blankets, pulling me with him. There we cuddled for most of the night just listening to the waves crashing on the cliff enjoying each other's warmth, truly and completely in love.

    #duskwood#duskwood jake#duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood jake x player
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  • abi-in-cosmos
    17.06.2021 - 3 minutes ago

    time for my weekly moan of ‘why can’t I get paid to write destiel fic all day?’ I hate life, it sucksssss.

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  • finnicksannie
    17.06.2021 - 3 minutes ago
    #thg #the hunger games #finnick odair#thg fanfiction #thank you for the ask!
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  • princesscassashoneypot
    17.06.2021 - 4 minutes ago

    I'm just patiently....politely....waiting for all these people to politely....GET OUTTA MY HOUSE...so I can enjoy reading all these wonderful fictions that have been published in the last couple of hours while I was running around the store.

    Call me Snowball. I'm sweet and fluffy...but I will MESS YOU UP WHEN MY SOCIAL METER STARTS RUNNING LOW!

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  • wretch-egg
    17.06.2021 - 4 minutes ago

    Blood & Tea Leaves (Levi x OC), Chapter 9

    I haven't been consistent with posting here, oops, but chapter 9 of Blood & Tea Leaves is out!

    Chapter Summary:

    Hilda was stubborn, unpredictable, a kettle just on the verge of boiling over. He didn't understand why, but Levi made a choice to saver her that day.

    He didn't regret it.

    Please review the warnings before reading, and feedback is always appreciated! The AO3 link is below, and you can read the prologue (chapters 1 and 2) on my Tumblr here!

    #attack on titan #aot#aot fanfiction#aot fanfic #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfic #levi x oc #levi x reader #sort of#sorry#levi fanfiction#romance fanfiction#slow burn#action#drama #there's a fighting pit #fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#creative writing
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  • studyofawearymind
    17.06.2021 - 5 minutes ago

    what are neighbours for

    frankie morales x gn!reader

    summary: frankie and his daughter surprise you with a treat after a tough day at work.
    word count: 1k
    warnings: fluff, vague descriptions of a bad day, some tears, mention of food, dad!frankie, no established romantic relationship
    a/n: i'm just procrastinating working on other stuff :)

    You reached forward to turn the keys in the ignition. The space that once held the distracting sounds from the radio and the engine was now silent. You were home from work, parked in your driveway, but you couldn't will yourself to get out of your vehicle. All of the emotions you felt earlier in the day were resurfacing, but this time you didn’t suppress them.

    When your head fell to rest on top of the steering wheel, so did your tears. Now that there were no demanding customers or nosy coworkers around, you could finally let it all out. 

    Today was a disaster. It seemed like nothing you were doing was good enough. A number of people actually had no issues voicing their displeasures to you. Why was everyone blaming you for things that weren’t even your fault in the first place? Did they all conspire before your shift and collectively decide to make your day awful? Because it sure felt like it. You hadn’t even been able to make it into your house before you broke down, which only happened on the worst days. 

    Once you began to settle down, you took a few deep breaths and wiped your tears. You grabbed your bag from the passenger seat and finally exited the car to make your way inside. You’re glad you waited until you got home to cry in your car, it would’ve been dreadful if someone had caught you in the parking lot at your work. At least here no one saw you. 

    Except someone did see you. 

    Your neighbour, Frankie, was on his way back inside after taking out some trash when he saw you pull into your driveway. He lingered, waiting to greet you once you got out of your car, but you never did. His eyes widened as he saw you begin to cry. He thought about walking over to ask if you were okay, but ultimately decided against it. The two of you were friendly with each other, but you weren’t super close. He didn’t want to overstep and make you uncomfortable. So he walked back inside his house, hoping you hadn’t noticed him—which, thankfully, you hadn’t. 

    He still felt the need to make sure you were okay. He paced back and forth in his kitchen trying to come up with an excuse to drop by your place later. That’s when his eyes landed on the cooling rack holding a dozen freshly baked chocolate chip cookies that he—with a little help from his daughter, Sofia—made that afternoon. That's it. 

    He’d wait a bit before swinging by, knowing you usually took your dog, Rosco, for a walk once you got home. Plus, he didn't want to make it too obvious that he caught you crying in your car. 


    A couple hours had gone by, which he thought was a reasonable amount of time before he came over. He entrusted Sofia with the task of choosing which cookies to give to you. She completed the task with much enthusiasm. 

    Frankie carried the tupperware containing four carefully chosen cookies just for you in one hand, and his daughter’s hand in the other as they walked to your front door. 

    Rosco reached the front door before you did after hearing the doorbell ring. Your confused expression softened when you looked out the window to see your kind neighbour and his daughter standing on your front porch. You held onto Rosco’s collar before unlocking and opening the door. 

    Frankie was relieved to see the sadness that was etched onto your face earlier had disappeared. You looked more relaxed now. 

    “Well, hello you two,” you said playfully. 

    “Hey,” Frankie responded. His grip on Sofia’s hand tightened slightly as she leapt forward to get at Rosco. “Manners, Mija. Ask first.” 

    “Can I please pet him?” Her little voice came from below you. You looked down at Sofia whose eyes were still on your dog. 

    “Of course, sweetheart.” You smiled down at her and motioned at Rosco to sit. 

    Sofia let go of Frankie to kneel in front of Rosco and her tiny hands began to gently pat his head and smooth down his fur. You and Frankie both smiled when he licked her face, sending her into a fit of giggles. 

    “What do you have there?” You gestured your head towards the container he was holding.

    “Oh! These are for you.” He handed you the container of cookies. “Sofia and I baked them this afternoon. I didn’t want her to eat them all, she’s got enough energy as is. So I figured I’d bring you some.”

    You opened the lid briefly to look inside, the delicious aroma that had been permeating inside the confined container immediately overwhelming your senses.

    “Well, they look and smell amazing. Thank you so much!” 

    “No problem. What are neighbours for, right?” he joked. 

    “I wasn’t having the best day, but this completely turned it around,” you said as your gaze returned to Sofia and Rosco.

    “I’m sorry to hear that,” Frankie started. “I hope the rest of your day treats you better.” 

    You looked up at him and smiled softly. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

    There was a moment of silence before Frankie spoke again.

    “Well, we should probably head back.” He tapped Sofia on the head, “Come on, Mija. I’ve got to get dinner started.” He turned back to you and waved. “Have a good night.”

    “You too, Frankie.” You waved to both him and Sofia as they made their descent down your driveway and back to their house. 

    After you were inside, you plopped back down onto your couch with Rosco’s head resting in your lap. You grabbed one of the cookies out of the container and took a bite. Thankfully you hadn’t tried it in front of your neighbours because the moan you let out was downright sinful. You had no idea Frankie could bake this well. 

    You finished the rest of the cookies, no longer bothered by the events that happened at work today. Instead, you wracked your brain trying to figure out what you could make for Frankie and Sofia in return.


    permanent tags: @girlwithanewplan @shaqbutt @you-got-me-starry-eyed @ezrasbirdie @its--fandom--darling @yourbucky084 @julieteagk @niki-xie @honestly-shite @jedi-mando @phoenixhalliwell @i-neverasktwice @klaine-92

    frankie tags: @elephants-are-a-thing @bifennecshand @hnt-escape @nicotinebirds @princess76179 @xjsteph @mswarriorbabe80 @casssiopeia @rebel-fanfare @writeforfandoms @dobbyjen @gasly-kvyat

    let me know if you'd like to be tagged/removed, or you can add yourself here!

    #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x you #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales #pedro pascal fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #sbb writes #the neighbourly thing to do fic
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  • violetlilysunshine
    17.06.2021 - 5 minutes ago

    Home Late

    Chris Evans x Reader


    Anon: can I request dad!c.evans x CEOmom!reader? that's uhm what my mind can think of, so the rest is yours. ^^

    WC: 883

    Warnings: none, just fluff

    A/N: I had two ideas for this prompt as soon as I wrote it, a smutty one and a fluffy one. I went with fluff because it didn’t specify. I’m open to a smutty part two tho, should anyone ask for it...

    Quick little guy posted today just for @harryhollandsgirlfriend, I could’ve held onto it for a while but here it is babe.

    REQUESTS OPEN  - Or just come chat :)

    You hated getting home late. You hated missing dinner with your family. You hated missing bedtime. You wanted to be there and do the family thing, especially since you had the best partner to do it with. You felt so bad leaving Chris with everything, but you were in the middle of a huge deal with your company so you’ve been having to stay late frequently. 

    You were so upset when you walked through the front door, and all of the downstairs lights were turned off and at least the upstairs hallway light was too, meaning Chris was already in bed. You so desperately wanted to hear about everything from the day but you knew you couldn’t go wake him up. 

    You dropped your bag and keys on the counter and poured yourself a glass of wine to relax a bit. You slid into a barstool at the island and kicked off your heels before letting your hair down and picking up the newspaper. You skimmed through a few articles before finishing your wine and deciding to head to bed. 

    You placed your glass in the dishwasher and started it before grabbing your shoes and heading upstairs. You padded up the stairs quietly, heading right to your bedroom. The lights were off and the room was silent, an oddity because usually you could hear Chris breathing, but you didn’t think much of it. You dropped your shoes quietly at the foot of the bed, heading into the bathroom to take your makeup off. 

    You washed your face and brushed your teeth before heading back out to get some pajamas. The bathroom light shined in the bedroom, showing you the empty bed. There was no reason for Chris not to be in bed, especially if he wasn’t downstairs and his car was in the garage when you got home. Was it? You thought so but maybe you weren’t paying that much attention and it hadn’t been there. Your heart started to race. Your first instinct was to run down the hall and check on the baby. 

    You pounded down the hallway, pushing the door open quickly and hanging on the handle. You let out a huge breath, your heartbeat slowing and body relaxing. Your face softened as you saw Chris with the baby in the rocking chair, little Charlie asleep on his chest; he too was passed out, head thrown back and mouth parted. You padded back to the bedroom to collect your phone, heading back and snapping a picture quickly before waking him up.

    You walked up to him gently, running your fingers through his hair to hopefully wake him sweetly. You didn’t want him to jump and wake Charlie as well. 

    “Hi, baby,” you whispered as he began to stir.

    “Mm, hi sweetheart,” he answered, his voice raspy. He took a deep breath, regaining consciousness, “what time is it?”

    “Almost 11,” you answered, still brushing his hair gently. 

    He hummed back a little, finally opening his eyes, “guess we should go to bed then,” he whispered, looking down at his girl in his arms before looking at you with a small grin, “you look tired, my love.” 

    “Hmm, I could say the same about you,” you quipped back, “c’mon, dad,” you whispered.

    “Yeah, yeah,” he said, standing up carefully. He walked the few paces to the crib, slowly bending over and setting Charlie down. He leaned down, kissing her gently, “goodnight, Princess.”

    You walked to the crib giving her a kiss as well, before finding Chris’ hand and pulling him out of the room. You closed the door, leaving a small crack, before guiding him down the hall to bed. As you entered the room, you let go of his hand, grabbing some pajamas from the dresser and quickly changing. Chris fell into bed, closing his eyes again and beginning to drift off. 

    When you turned around, your eyes fell on his sleeping form. You chuckled a little, heading to the bathroom to turn off the light before going back to the bed. You brushed his back lightly as you leaned over to the nightstand, plugging your phone in.

    “Hmm,” he hummed, barely waking up.

    “Babe, you’re on my side,” you giggled lightly. 

    “Am I?” he asked, still not completely coherent.

    “Yeah, scoot over,” you breathed as you pulled the covers up and climbed in behind him.

    He rolled over to his side mostly. You settled in, rolling onto your side to get comfortable. He shuffled back to your side, spooning you and tucking his face in your neck; you giggled as he did so, having always been ticklish. You let him pull you closer, rocking your hips back to settle against him, and he placed a few pecks on the skin of your neck and jaw. You reached out, grabbing your phone again. You scrolled over to look at the picture you’d taken; you smiled lightly, setting as your wallpaper before placing your phone down again. You rested your hands over Chris’ stroking them lightly with your thumb.

    “I love you,” he whispered against your neck, feeling you relax, “more than you could imagine.”

    “I love you too, babe,” you answered, bringing his hand to your lips and giving it a peck before letting it fall back, “I love you too.”

    #chris evans #chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x fem reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans oneshot #chris evans imagine #dad chris evans
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  • lizzienoodles
    17.06.2021 - 5 minutes ago

    If you want to see a glow up... 2016/2020

    btw this isn’t my art blog i just dont want to post this there idk why

    (art blog is at @comicspasta )

    #i feel kind of silly about this for a couple reasons #1 being that when i was drawing the first one i thought i was ready to do art for a job but i had so much to learn #2 being that this silly fanfiction has stuck with me for this many years
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  • colloydweek
    17.06.2021 - 6 minutes ago

    Quote Day by Lil-Samuu [Fanfic]

    Rating: G

    Summary: For Day 6, Quote Day, “Let’s go explore the new world together!”  Post-game fic set quite a long time after the game in which Genis has become a professor himself, working at a university with his own office.


    Genis jumped as a loud knock on his office door disturbed his deep concentration. He frowned as he heard whoever had knocked calling out "Professor Sage", it was still weird to hear people address him with that title rather than just his sister.

    "Office hours are finished for the day," he called out.

    "But we have an appointment," a second voice said, and Genis's frown became deeper as he thought he heard a slight hint of a giggle.

    He was sure he hadn't made any appointments to see any students today, he'd wanted to keep his day clear to finish putting the final touches on his latest paper before he submitted it for publication. Sighing, he got up from the desk and walked over to the door, figuring it would be easier to explain that without the door in the way. He blinked in surprise when, instead of seeing a couple of students as he'd expected he saw Lloyd and Colette and a snout sticking out from under a sort of blanket/cloak that belonged to Noishe.

    "When you didn't turn up at the café we figured we'd bring the café to you," Colette said, some delicious smelling boxes clutched carefully in her arms.

    "It was today I was supposed to meet you? I'm sorry, think I've lost track of the day as well as the time working on this paper," Genis said, gesturing towards his desk.

    [Read on FF.net!]
    #tales of symphonia #colloydweek2021#lloyd irving#colette brunel#genis sage#fanfiction #day 6: let's go explore the new world together
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  • finnicksannie
    17.06.2021 - 7 minutes ago
    #thank you for the ask! #thg #the hunger games #finnick odair#thg fanfiction
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  • g531
    17.06.2021 - 8 minutes ago
    #venji fanfic#venji #love victor fanfiction
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  • misslynn99
    17.06.2021 - 8 minutes ago

    Epicenter: Chapter One

    Link on AO3: Epicenter

    Author: misslynn_99 (Me!)

    a/n: I totally forgot that I could post this here to help bring in traffic lol. This is a Pro Hero! Bakugo x Reader insert I've been playing around with. Enjoy!

    Red Riot was a regular of yours. His bright smile lit up the atmosphere of the little coffee shop, infectious and spilling over to anyone else in the vicinity. He was friendly, inviting even, as he ordered two coffees- one plain black and another syrupy sweet with cream. He usually turned up a couple times a week up business causal, perfectly content to leisurely chat and sign autographs before inevitably ducking out shyly, laughing that his partner wouldn’t be thrilled with cold coffee. You’d grown to love the visits of the charming hero, finding it easy to get lost in his easy conversation and brilliant ruby eyes. You couldn’t help but wish that maybe one day he’d order just one coffee and stay a while longer to sip it at a table across from you.

    Today was not one of those days. Instead, he barreled through the doors, dragging a bedraggled blonde in across his bare shoulders. The harsh muzzle and shredded fabric of his hero costume was a slap in the face, reminding you that he was not just a charming civilian, but instead one of the finest defenders of the city. The café customers had already evacuated, but you had stayed to quickly close up the shop. “Watch him, will ya?” He huffed. “He’s been hurt. I know you’ve got a minor healing quirk, and he’s in no shape to return to the fight. Deku and Uravity are on the scene too. We can handle it from there, but this idiot will get himself killed just to prove that he’s just fine.”

    “Okay,” You nodded. “I’ll do my best to patch him up.”

    “Thanks, doll.” He prodded at your check playfully. “I owe you one. Blasty here is quite the bear when he’s pissed. Don’t worry, I made sure his blasters were empty before I brought him to you. I couldn’t have him taking out my favorite place. ” Carefully setting the blonde on the coffee bar, Red Riot raced back to the scene, where a villain with a rouge power-type quirk was wreaking havoc.

    “What am I going to do with you?” The words absentmindedly left your lips, fingers tracing a tender looking cut along his arm. Sighing, you stripped the gauntlets from his arms and legs, leaving the pro hero in just the Kevlar of his hero costume.

    Angry red bruises already dotted his exposed skin. His chest shuttered unevenly with each shallow breath, and his soft blonde hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. “I’ve got to have a first aid kit around here somewhere.”

    The scent of alcohol almost overpowered the stench of burnt sugar and gasoline that seemed to seep from the blonde’s every pore. Even barely conscious, he hissed a curse as the disinfectant stung his open wounds “Fuck!”

    “Red’ll kill me if you get an infection.” You muttered. “Just sit still. I’ll get you something for the pain here soon.”

    “Hands off.” He slurred. “I’m going back.”

    “Your ribs are broken.” A gentle hand to his chest was more than enough to stop the hero.  “Let me heal you first.”

    Stalling was your best option, but sparks danced along the hero’s palms. He left me with Ground Zero, cheeky little asshole. you thought viciously. The feral black mask and fiery red eyes should have been a dead giveaway but, lost in the moment with Red Riot, you had missed it. Ground Zero looked so vulnerable, even as he struggled to resist your help. Each breath seemed to whistle through his gritted teeth. Rivulets of sweat dripped down his brow and splattered onto the counter, and his entire frame shuddered from pain. Yet his steely frown bit back at you, screaming that he was determined to rejoin the fight with a confidence that his words could not convey.

    “And Shitty Hair, Deku, and Cheeks aren’t finishing without me.”

    “Just let me handle the ribs, okay?” You pacified. “Broken ribs could mean a punctured lung with another hit, and a punctured lung means you’ll spend the next few weeks in the hospital with a chest tube. Even then, you might not get the lung capacity back. So let me fix it.”

    “Fine.” He spat. “I’m waiting.”

    You felt the heat of embarrassment on your face. “This is going to hurt. A lot.” You gulped. “I need to touch the injury directly, so shirt off.”

    Ground Zero motioned to pull the black and orange tank top over his head, but froze. “Can’t move my shoulder like that.” He growled.

    “Should’ve known.” You sighed nervously. “You’ve probably got flail chest close to your sternum. Where ever that thing hit you, I think it broke a bunch of ribs so they’re not attached to the rest of your chest wall now.”

    “Just fix it.” Ground Zero snapped. “By any means necessary.”

    You nodded, intimidated by the hero’s anger. Praying that no one walked in the shop, you carefully peeled the fabric away, and flinched at the sight of the marred skin. Sickeningly black bruises blossomed from just below his clavicle and you tenderly laid a hand across his pectoral. The bones shifted slightly under your touch. His injuries were more extensive than you had expected, as you felt the puffy skin and sharp edges of displaced fractures through the lean tissue of his torso.

    “How do I know this isn’t just an excuse to feel me up, perv?” A bright shade of red flushed his cheeks.

    “That’s pretty messed up.” You glowered. “I don’t have to do this, you know. All I’d have to tell Red is that I tried but you blew me off and staggered out the door anyways. I don’t appreciate being accused of groping you while trying to do you a favor, so if you don’t want my help we can just wait here.”

    “Fine, just get on with it.”

    Cool energy trailed from your fingertips, dancing over his skin and sinking in. “Fuck!” He swore again, writhing against the counter. You could feel yourself sway, energy sapping as the bones knit back together. His chest grew warm beneath your touch, or maybe it was just your icy fingers as cold settled in your core.

    “Why don’t I feel tired?” He peered curiously at you, as you slumped forward onto the counter.

    “Because it saps my energy, not yours. Why do you think I own a coffee shop instead of being a traveling healer?”

    “Blasty!” Red Riot’s voice was music to your ears. “I hope you didn’t give my favorite girl too much trouble now.”

    “He,” you wheezed. “Still needs to see a doctor. He needs a chest X ray to make sure everything is in the right place. “

    “I think you need to see a doctor.” Red’s eyebrows furrowed in concern, running a hand across your forehead, fingers trembling against the freezing skin beneath. “You’re so cold.”

    “If I’m going to a doctor, so is this idiot.” You scowled at Ground Zero’s jeer, getting to his feet as if to prove he was just fine.

    “Come on.” The blonde grabbed your arm, pulling you across the bar, and attempted to shoulder your weight across his back.

    “Not on my watch.” Red caught you before you could hit the ground. “Didn’t she say that you need to be seen? Something tells me that you’re the one who needs to be carried.”

    “I can walk myself!” Ground Zero barked, although his knuckles were white from gripping the counter top and his jaw clenched. Your vision was swimming, but he seemed to sway as he took a few unsteady steps towards the door.

    “Sure you can.” Red rolled his eyes with a wink your way. “But you’re not taking this lovely lady on a one-way trip to the floor in the process.

    “I’ve got them!” A flash of pink and black ducked around Red’s arms, and suddenly you were weightless. “Nearest hospital is a couple of blocks to the north. Deku is taking the villain down to the station, in the quirk-cancelling cuffs. I moved most of the rubble out of the way, but I’ll come back to help with the clean-up. I just had to see how Bakugo was holding up. “

    “I think my girl here has him stable.” Red Riot frowned. “But she’s not doing so hot. Why’s that? I thought Blasty here would be the one drained.”

    “Quirk,” You slurred, relaxing in to the weightless embrace of whatever was supporting you. “Drains my energy. ‘S why I’m not a healer. He was hurt, real bad. Flail chest, I think.”

    “She needs IV fluids.” You were vaguely aware of moving, unbidden, with Red’s arms no longer warming you against his chest as your consciousness dimmed.


    A gentle prod to the arm stirred you back into awareness. “Hey.”

    “Red Riot.” Your head lolled to the side. The cool, metallic hospital bed chilled your bare skin, shivering against the thin blanket. The smell of antiseptic stung, and the image of Ground Zero’s uneven breaths burned behind your eyelids. The tell-tale stiffness in your arm was a sign of the IV already inserted, surely dulling the ache in your own chest with a steady drip of pain medication. “Where is he? Is he okay?”

    “Blasty is doing just fine.” His warm hand splayed across your shoulder comfortingly. You hadn’t noticed before, but as he leaned over your bedside, you could have sworn that you saw a hint of black roots amongst his fiery red hair. Concern creased his face, and his cologne tickled at your throat, smelling of patchouli, leather, and pine. “You gave us all quite the scare there. But Ground Zero is a lucky man. The doctors say that you fixed up his five broken ribs, three of which detached from his chest wall.”

    “Where is he?”

    “He’s in the operating room. They had to go in and stop some of the internal bleeding, and clear out the pooled blood in his chest so it wouldn’t give him a collapsed lung.”

    “Thank you, Red Riot.” A sigh escaped your lips.

    “Don’t be so formal. My name is Eijirou Kirishima. Call me Eijirou, or Kiri, or just something that’s not my hero name. It’s not like my real name is a public secret.” He laughed.

    Stealing a glance to the side, you smirked. “I could call you Sharky.” His eyes widened, and you chuckled. “But I think I like Kiri.”

    A doctor quickly cut the exchange short, her harsh raps on the door breaking the moment. “He’s out of the OR and in recovery.” She directed her attention towards Eijirou. “Do you want to go back and see him?”

    “You can go, I’ll be okay.”

    “Nah, Bakugo would never let me live it down if I ditched a civilian at the hospital.”

    “I want to know how he’s doing.” You nudged his side with your elbow, trying your best to look convincing. “I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.”

    “I’ll be right back!” The tension in his shoulders eased, sagging in relief. “Don’t leave without me, okay?”

    “I’ll hold her discharge paperwork until you return.” The doctor’s lips quirked in a half-smile. “I need to ask her a few questions anyhow, so it is beneficial that you’re out of the room for a little bit.”

    Eijirou scurried out, and a pang of affection fluttered in your chest. “He’s such a kind hero.” You sighed.

    “He is.” The doctor plucked a pen from the pocket of her white coat and began to add notes to your medical chart. “How are you feeling? Still light headed?”

    “I feel much better. Just a bit tired still.”

    “Okay, I’m going to release you with orders to take it easy for the next day or so, and if you start feeling poorly, please go either to your general practitioner, or return here for further treatment. I’m going to remove your IV, and then I just need you to sign the discharge paperwork, and wait for your escort to come back.”

    “I’m back!” Eijirou grinned as he poked his head in, watching as you signed the papers. “Uraraka is forcibly floating Blasty back to his apartment so he doesn’t wind up passed out on a train somewhere. They’ve got him all sorts of knocked up on pain killers. But I’m ready to take you back to the shop if you’re good to go.”

    “I am.” You nodded. “I still need to finish closing up shop, though. I locked up the cash from the register, but the machines need cleaned and the doors need locked before I call it a night.”

    Eijirou just smiled sheepishly, his hands ready to steady you as you climbed out of the hospital bed.

    “I’m okay.” You whined, batting his arm away playfully. “The press would have a hay day if you held my arm or god forbid carried me anywhere.”

    “Oh! Uhh, yeah, you’re right.” He flinched, arms snapping back to his sides, and you instantly regretted even bringing it up as you watched Eijirou school his features to look carefully professional once more, carefully ushering you out the door.

    "I think the ladies would be too devastated, if the press made it seem like the most eligible bachelor of the pro heroes was off the dating market.” You joked nervously, trying to ease the tension that had settled between the two of you.

    “Obviously.” He rolled his eyes, cracking a slight smirk. “Who else are they going to drool over? No one else is nearly as manly as me.”

    "Not even Ground Zero?”

    “A close second.” He conceded. “But he really only shows anger and annoyance, which decidedly unmanly. His only downfall.”

    The café was in sight again- and mostly still intact. It was nestled between a few other businesses on the strip, quiet and unassuming. You wondered briefly how the heroes had even taken notice, when everything else about the world of heroes seemed so loud and chaotic. The chalkboard outside was  smudged with dust, as were the windows that offered a peak into the cozy shop, but as far as you could see, nothing had been damaged or broken into during your absence.

    “I think tomorrow is going to be a long day of cleaning.” You groaned.

    “Occupational hazard.” Eijirou laughed. “I think this is where I let you go, though.”

    Turning to face him and putting your hand on his shoulder, you looked into his eyes. “Thank you, Eijirou. Thanks for making sure I was okay and that I got home safely. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and what you continue to do for the city.”

    “Just doing my job.” He replied sheepishly, his voice half an octave higher than usual. “I think my patrol shift starts here soon, so I’ll catch on the flipside for my usual.”

    Eijirou left, and you carefully locked the doors behind him. The silence was deafening. The café usually buzzed with quite murmurs of those working, catching up with friends, or tentatively flirting with a prospective partner. Normally, the café wouldn’t close for a few more hours, but even leaning against the counter seemed to draw from the deepest reserves of strength you could bare, and you wished Eijirou had stayed.

    That’s what you get for making the man so uncomfortable. The voice inside your head whispered cruelly. Shouldn’t get hung up on your silly little crush. He’s just a hero looking to maintain a public image, not get to know you or your life or sweep you off of your feet. You should stop this before you embarrass yourself.

    “Kiri is a kind man.” You whispered to yourself, as if to silence your own internal monologue, hands deftly cleaning the espresso machines. “He cares about others. I may not be special, but he is genuine.”

    The coffee bar was strangely oily, and once again your senses were assaulted with the stench of over-cooked caramel and thick smoke. Ground Zero was an enigma; you knew that his temper was just as explosive as his quirk, frequently berating civilians unfortunate enough to be caught in his way and chasing away reporters with a more than a few sparks. Yet, despite his notoriously low public approval levels, he still managed to rank as the number two hero. His record for take downs and civilian rescues were immaculate, only outranked by Deku. For someone so who was so determined to be the take over the spot for number one hero, he was prickly at best and outright aggressive at worst. He was a confusing contradiction of everything the public believed of pro heroes, and in his own way, stole the media’s attention as they leaned into Ground Zero’s “bad boy” reputation.

    You wondered if he appreciated the media’s attempts to make him more likeable, or if it only annoyed him further. Ground Zero certainly didn’t seem appreciative of your help, nor was he thrilled with Eijirou’s attempts to joke about his bad attitude. He was so different from his partner; Red Riot was the media’s sweetheart, sympathetic and caring, and known for his tendency to help civilians even with menial tasks. He was both an unbreakable force for good against the villains plaguing the city and an approachable everyday hero.

    Ground Zero didn’t have that luxury, his humanity lost to his pro hero status. It seemed like a lonely existence. With a sigh, you finished your cleaning, and taped a “Closed early” sign to the front door, and wandered back up to your apartment to rest for the evening.

    #My hero academia #boku no hero academia #fanfiction#reader insert#bakugo katsuki #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #female reader#she/her pronouns #Pro hero Bakugou Katsuki #Pro hero AU #Ground Zero AU #angst with a happy ending #Reader has a healing quirk #canon typical violence #somewhat graphic description of wounds #No beta we die like men #Coffee shop au #hints of Eijirou Kirishima x reader
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  • zv4x
    17.06.2021 - 9 minutes ago
    #fnf#week 7 #week 7 fnf #tankman captain#tankman john#tankmen #tankman x reader #tankman#x reader#fnf yandere#yandere headcanons#yandere fanfiction#yandere oneshot#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere fnf #yandere friday night funkin #friday night funkin x reader #oneshot#fnf oneshots#fnf oneshot #friday night funkin oneshots #oneshots#reader insert#yandere imagines #friday night funkin imagines #imagines#fnf imagines#imagine #x reader headcanons
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  • bleedblooms
    17.06.2021 - 9 minutes ago

    kaleidoscope eyes (hs)


    The eyes of a former lover are a memoir of the past; abundant in elegant nostalgia though definite with the ability to unearth cloudy skeletons. They croon a melancholy song and slipping into a state of reverie becomes almost unavoidable when the observer longs for the days when that relationship existed... At a quaint cafe on a mundane Saturday morning, Harry is startled to encounter the woman who has lived in his mind like a beautifully haunting fantasy since their high school withdrawal. How will he answer to her presence when memories saturate his subconscious and he can feel her slowly slipping away?

    multiple part series! (part one)

    series playlist link

    pairing: harry styles x reader word count: approx. 24k warnings: sexual content, minor drug use, explicit language, etc.

    Hello, Lovelies!

    I've written stories for years but, after long contemplation, I decided to give tumblr writing a go! I adore the community and the instantaneity of it all.

    So, If you do read, I truly hope that you enjoy! This is all a figment of my imagination and subsequent creation. I find deep solace in writing and I hope that any semblance of emotional gratification within these words can ooze its way into your heart. I love the capacity that words have to make people feel and I hope that my joy is reflected.

    Leave a message if you feel so inclined, I'd treasure any feedback or just a little 'hello' with all of my heart! xx

    – V.

    part one

    Harry feels as though he is going mad.

    Suddenly, the skin that conceals his body like a cloak of succor feels far too stuffy. It’s humming and crawling like a virus and he can feel perspiration budding at the back of his neck. His ears are ringing as every noise around him simultaneously dulls and intensifies. He fades in and out as sound reverberates inside of his skull; bouncing on a trampoline or stretching from side to side like taffy. He blinks languidly and pinches his eyes shut to recuperate and counter the severe thud of his heart. His mouth is parched, cheeks hot like a wildfire, and bottom lip bit raw in contemplation.

    For the past five years, he had seen her face and figure, heard her voice, everywhere and nowhere all at once. He’d catch fleeting glimpses of mediocre parodies at every turn. His cab driver with comparable hair from behind. A woman with her frame on a busy street corner. A soft murmur of a familiar voice in a cafe. All of these instances and a plethora of similarly disappointing cases of false hope are customary. He was left forlorn on these days, breathing her name in a question of optimism only to be met with the same outcome time and time again. His taxi driver turning to face him with brows pulled and a foreign face, twisted sour at his mistake. The lady at the road’s junction bitterly questioning, “Do I know you?” Or the sweet cafe worker sending him a solemn shake of her head when they lock eyes.

    So today, when the typically fruitless hope wells up in his stomach–fizzing sweet like champagne–and it’s not dulled by his delusion... he feels utterly disoriented and frantic, to say the least. Harry’s head is spinning faster than he can comprehend. Everything around him dissipates in an instant as his eyes focus on the woman sitting three tables away.

    The film reel of her in his mind, though a short-lived memory, is so fucking poignant that it makes him sick. A classic movie with an authenticity worth repeating for years just to bask in the sensational awe of its creation, the grueling turmoil that it entails, the lingering taste it leaves on your tongue, or the feeling it wills in your belly. Heavy with sorrow because it’s over and it made you feel deeply but bursting with mirth and worship because it happened. It happened and you were able to partake in observing such grace.

    She makes him want to yell like a petulant toddler and cry like a mourning widow. To squeal with relief and cower in fear. She makes him want to smother her with kisses and walk far away, never looking back, all at once. His reaction is peculiar but so true to her being that he is almost not shocked by the contrasting responses.

    The early afternoon breeze works to sweep her hair back and away from her face as she rests alone. Her head is fixed down as she stares at her own hands, mindlessly picking at the paint on her nails to pass the time. The dishes on her table are clear, suggesting that she had just finished her meal, possibly waiting for somebody to return from the bathroom or perhaps an urgent phone call. The empty chair before her is askew, cloth in its place as an indication of company.

    Harry had just sat down for Saturday brunch. Expecting to fill his belly and return to his empty flat to stew in his own misery for the remainder of the day when his careless plans were scattered and swayed by the most jarring incident he had come across in years.


    The woman who has haunted him since the last time he saw her pretty face at their high school commencement ceremony is here. She is really here and he can’t quite believe it. The oddity of the occurrence damn near knocks him on his ass. She is like a mirage of all things good in the world; it makes him vertiginous to take in her existence.

    Radiant flowers plucked from the soil or pruned in a vase. Sultry sunbeams on wet skin. Rock candy sweets on a pink tongue. Hazy guitar chords in the shade. A dog-eared novel folded in one hand. Sandy toes and salty limbs. Long walks to nowhere.

    Loud, rock and roll kitchen dance parties or intertwined limbs, slowly swaying to soft love songs. Couch cuddles and classic horror films. A bite to eat at the local diner. Nail painting. Driving around for hours with the windows down.

    Silky hair, straight out of the shower. Clean, white linens. Makeshift quilt forts. Warm midnights with the window cracked. Waxy candles dripping on the bedside table and french perfume staining a pillowcase.

    He knows he is not mistaken. He would recognize her anywhere if given the chance to truly regard her. The same rosy, flushed cheeks. Inquisitive eyebrows. Pretty doe eyes fanned with delicate lashes. The dip and apex of her nose, cute as ever. A soft, cherry mouth that he can still taste if he tries hard enough. He thinks she looks just as beautiful as she did the last time he saw her. Her appearance today is nearly identical to that of the carefree girl he knew during his youth. Only slightly more seasoned. A modern backbone of experience accompanies her in these budding years of adulthood and Harry thinks it’s wondrous.

    y/n. His first love. The only pure love he has ever known and is convinced he ever will know is truly here. She still makes his heart stutter fondly and his chest feel ardent and hot with adoration. He knows these feelings are unrequited though and there is nobody to blame but himself.

    She had gifted him abundant trust in the days that they existed as one. Granted him the surprises of her mind, the privilege of putting his hands on her body. Showed him all of her secrets, let him know her inside and out and he let it all slip away. Her heart was in the palm of his trembling hand, his in hers, and he let her down while she kept him unscathed. As if her heart were glass, he dropped it. Watched it shatter across the floor into tiny pieces.

    He wasn’t quick enough to fix it, didn’t have the time to sit and glue the shards back together, one by one. He was not qualified or adequate enough to do so and he lives with the consequences every day. He was a boy. Young, inexperienced, and unable to conceptualize the true gravity of their connection.

    He is not sure if he’s happy to see her or not. He had always assumed that he would feel elated, that he would bound over to her, and attempt with every fiber of his being to make amends with the sweet girl he was lucky enough to once hold.

    But now, being here and seeing her, he feels as though it may be selfish to try and impose on her life. To try and weasel his way back into her world in any fashion seems greedy when he can still see, clear as day, the absolutely crushed look that plagued her features from their moment of withdrawing till the very last time he had seen her.

    He broke her. Truly shattered her self-assurance and the core of her being.

    This guilt doesn’t stop him from wondering about her though. He thinks about y/n almost every day, as embarrassing as it is. Wondering how life has panned out for her. Where she went to university, what job she landed, whether or not she has a close circle of friends... a lover.

    And though it’s painful to imagine her with another, it’s likely, it’s very plausible that she is. y/n is as big of a catch as they come and any person would be lucky to share a life with her. He wonders though if anybody she has been with knows her. Truly knows her in the way that he feels he did.

    It was only high school and the validity of most relationships during this time is dulled by a youthful perception of one’s self along with the endless bout of stains that cloud puppy love. It’s made to seem artificial and though–in many cases–it is, Harry perceives the gravity of the pair.

    Young love is often the first draft of your capabilities as a partner. It is a time to grow and learn things that you use to shape your approach for years to come. But, Harry knows that their love was more. Yes, of course, their relationship was juvenile. Of course, it was total infatuation because it was their first experience with a real shared sense of devotion, but it was the start of something enchanting. It wasn’t fleeting, wasn’t just a taste of what was to come for the rest of their lives with other, better suited, people. No. It was a once-in-a-lifetime union. One that most are lucky to even feel a semblance of in any relationship.

    And though Harry acknowledges that y/n presumably wants nothing to do with him, he also knows that she feels the exact same way; understands the extraordinary thread that forever binds their souls.

    It’s not even something that needs to be spoken because it’s just so damning. Just so glaring and unrelenting. Their psyches intertwined long before their bodies did and their brains melded in an act of care so fragile yet so exceedingly great that it’s hair-raising... bone-chilling.

    The cruel retrospection of his mind is torn in a way akin to the splitting of tainted parchment when he sees y/n lift her gaze to somebody behind him.

    A person that he can only assume is a partner or a friend with the comfortability of her regard. He hopes for the latter, he truly does wish to bask in the naivety that she is merely out to eat with a friend but he knows it’s futile when a time-honored cast laves her profile and permeates her irises.

    Her eyes.

    In y/n’s eyes, he sees everything he needs to see to grasp the ballast poured atop the circumstance. It’s thick and heavy in the air and he feels a similarly weighted mass of stone and grain pressing against his chest. Abundant with the most noxious feelings of defeat.

    There is a weightless shimmer to her regard. A wicked glint; it’s classic. Subtle but all-consuming to a pair of seasoned eyes.

    Eyes that had been on the receiving end of such a precariously plummeting gaze. Plummeting into the sticky pits of love. A gaze full of unadulterated security and trust but treacherous amounts of devotion. Bound full of the good and the inevitability of the fall. The bad. Or at least in his case...

    Harry knows what it’s like to see affection filling her eyes. They become lustrous; a bottle of nectar, a palm-full of oil, a babbling brook spilled over the casing. They become cloudless and plentiful and oh so tender.

    Regretfully, he notes this gaze and he knows... he just knows that it’s a look solely reserved for a lover and his heart aches a touch but it’s unjust, it’s laughable and he knows it is.

    She looks beyond the bow of his shoulder, where she has yet to notice Harry’s presence, but he can’t bear the pain of turning around to see the man’s face.

    The man with the chest she now rests against; who gets to feel her sigh as she dreams with her body clung to his own. Warm skin touching skin, through a thin shirt, or unadorned flesh that’s silkily bare.

    The man with the hair she now runs her graceful fingers through, pulling from the scalp in soothing waves—carding and carving organic shapes.

    The man whose sound shoulders now provide her with solace and stability. A human anchor in this mad world with nooks that feel like home.

    The man with a memory that now possesses her secrets–always sultry and strange–and whose ready ears listen to the mysteries of her abundant mind. Fascinating puzzles and curious folklore.

    He let his forever slip away and he’s not ready to accept the fate of time and the unfortunate way that the tree of life has veered to her wind.

    But those eyes, her eyes are all telling. To him, they always will be and they selfishly provide him with nostalgia like no other.

    The pools echo outward with a droplet of black ink at the heart, waves of reminiscence rippling from beneath the core and oozing their way out from the center’s weight in endless vitality.

    In the reflection of their fragile glaze, he sees the essence of past days that he longs for. He sees every single color illustrated. It illuminates the mirage of their naive love story.

    Everything that they once shared is exhibited in her irises. The milestones of their relationship being especially piercing because to Harry, y/n is a living remembrance of a better time.

    A bush of carnations sits beside her table, tucked sweet and breezy between two kissing slabs of the restaurant’s brick trim. The pink blush of the plant concentrates in her eyes and Harry’s subconscious runs rampant with memory.

    A gentle beginning saturated with all things y/n and all things pink...


    On a crisp spring afternoon, cirrus vapors painted the sky whimsically as the sun peeked out from behind the mirage.

    Lawn sprinklers ticked and fed the green, scattering the droplets and wetting the pavement accidentally to unearth a yearly perfume. The patent mix of sun-drenched stone melding with water; sizzling and wafting earthy fragrances.

    Songbirds twittered and landed on the branches of swaying oak trees and petals blossomed on stems.

    The soft lull of vernal midday.

    The final bell of the school day had just rung and Harry knew y/n would be quick to flee in favor of escaping the weight of academic stress.

    He had sprinted across campus to hopefully meet her just beyond the treeline where she covertly parked her wheels to avoid the mess of the student lot.

    A beautifully reticent and keen girl she was, unmistakably dandy in his eyes.

    The flutter of success permeated his ribcage in heavy sighs, cause for undulating swells of delight to make each bone flower and reassurance to overwhelm his chest in ample tides.

    Harry caught sight of her and made it to her car in just the nick of time, calling out her name, “y/n!” Her sights lifted to meet his own and her busy grip on the door handle froze. “Wait a second,” he made it to her gentle figure, out of breath though equally elated, “quick as wit you are, love.”

    Long before any plans were created, reciprocities were molded in the shape of echoed smiles, or formerly trembling fingers became shared alleviation, Harry knew. He knew something was there. She just had this way about her that pulled him in.

    Inception. The very first day.

    Perhaps he was drawn to the way her eyes kindled and danced of fire when somebody resisted hidebound influence. Even more so when she did it herself.

    Maybe he favored their first discussion of music and the way that she spoke with licensed knowledge. A true classic rock aficionado. Genius perfectly intertwined with germinating, childlike wonder.

    The crystalline grins and quick-witted jokes that she offered to any person with a heavy veil of gloom and despair over their head was too a possibility. Flawlessly combatting cloudy sorrow, those pesky scribbles of inky despair—or the more volatile mists of melancholy that hover over glum heads like lilac gusts of defeat—with compassion.

    Though it was just as likely to be an infatuation with trivial matters.

    The way she chewed baby pink gum every day, blowing bubbles and sucking the deflated wad back between her teeth while she scratched swirls in her notebook margin.

    The strand of hair that fell from its tucked home behind her ear that she constantly corrected with sweet fingernails.

    Her casual, assured use of antiquated words and phrases amid hormonal, adolescent company like she was existing amongst opulence.

    Maybe it was the funk of the unconventional bands on her fingers. The shielding of her eyes with dramatic, oversized sunglasses merely for theatrics—to garner critique because she found unsolicited aversion to be intriguing. It was possibly her smile, her worn Chucks, her book-packed tote bag, her perfume, or her minimal conversations that had the ability to make him feel coveted.

    It seemed to be fucking everything and he needed to see to it that she would spend time with him. He needed more than fleeting conversations and he wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his fuzzy blanket of adoration. So, he went for it.

    “Hi, Harry,” her smile was genuine, composed, and patient, “what’s up?” She was such an easy-going girl. From what he could tell, nothing quite rocked her or made her act with a temperament straying from collected and kind tolerance. Like a cool breeze or a neat stack of literature.

    A dragging exchange of obligatory pleasantries and light small talk arose upon Harry's arrival. They expressed their distaste for school in an erudite manner and joked about typical subjects that they’d formerly found a shared interest in.

    With y/n’s back pressed against her car door and Harry standing before her with artificial composure, as to not come across far too eager, time passed quite easily.

    It wasn’t till their smiley discussion reached the half-hour mark that Harry became far too restless to talk about anything but his true intent. Her words were captivating, however, the warmth of her smile and the way the sun reflected off of her hair like taffeta made him a bit too preoccupied to keep beating around the bush.

    When y/n’s giggles subsided and she looked into his eyes with an appreciation for his humor, Harry spit out his true intentions with haste. Something he was unaware that y/n, in all her charming nature, was not privy to.

    “Listen, y/n...” It was apparent to him that she could sense the shift in tone, it was quite clear that the likes of their history course were not what was making his face shift with sincerity, “Got a bit of confession t’make...” A sound, callow declaration.

    “Oh yeah?” She perked up, y/n was quite inquisitive, a bit taken aback by his odd change of tone but obviously intrigued by the unusual route the conversation was taking. She was an absolute sucker for curious admissions and eccentric personalities. Harry knew she loved intrepid and blunt behavior. It was the reason he chose this approach, to begin with.

    He sent a small nod her way, “Rad. Hit me with your secret, Curly. Promise I’ll keep it.” She crossed her arms and sent a little brow wiggle his way, “I’m practically a walking confessional booth.”

    With a light smile, he acknowledged her and it all came rushing out like a jittery, syrupy current, “Well, t’be candid, I think y’quite lovely.” y/n tilted her head with a modest upturn of her lips, “Swear you’ve got the prettiest face v’ever seen...” He stumbled over his words a bit, “Uhh, y’make me feel all kinds of mushy? Can’t really explain it but I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you.” He spoke with the animated wafture of his hands; pretty painted nails were where her eyes settled, quite bashfully, during his disclosure. “Would be thrilled if y’let me take you out or sum’... lil picnic maybe? Know a pretty nice spot that I think you’d dig.”

    y/n’s chest waxed tight. Her organs felt snug in her body and her head felt spinny. This was the first time that a boy had been so open with her... so vulnerable, and it made her feel a bit crazed. Harry had a poised, alluring way about him that he was so blissfully unaware of, it was nearly laughable.

    A decadent frame, so tall and strong. Big hands; soft palms and long fingers with solid rings snug at the junctions, nails with chipped polish, and pads calloused to the touch. Tan skin coated his towering figure like honey and warm ivory. Satisfying every swell and ridge like a silk coat.

    Forever dressing in the cutest corduroy pants or tattered jeans. Thick, rumpled socks and battered Vans. Charming flannels in autumn. Soft sweaters during the winter. Funky, unbuttoned dress shirts during spring. And cute graphic tees before the end of the school year.

    Pretty sea glass eyes infiltrated your intelligence with every conversation like the hidden gems that sparkle, buried in the sand when the tide pulls back. The daintiest button nose in the world. Flushed cheeks that rivaled the pink of wet, tongue worked lips. A pearlescent, bunny-toothed smile that coaxed the pop of a charming dimple. Always a tiny heart earring in one ear and a little gold loop in the other. Gentle dives of warm, coconut, and caramel hair that made y/n envy the breeze that got to kindly touch it in the way that she wished she could run her fingers through it.

    He was a dreamboat.

    So utterly unaware of the girls and boys flocking to be by his side that it was charming.

    So, to say that y/n was jarred by his confession would be an understatement. He thought she was lovely? She was floored. She made him feel mushy? How? It was staggering. He liked her enough to want to spend time with her outside of school?

    y/n was captured by him from the time that she’d met him. He was very puzzling and ambiguous. An incredibly kind boy but often didn’t speak unless spoken to. His reserved nature was what many found to be so attractive. His words were highly anticipated by everyone and they were always hard-hitting when finally uttered.

    That’s the reason that y/n tried her best to initiate conversations with him as much as possible. It came naturally to her but she didn’t enjoy discussion with anybody as much as she did Harry. It was always brief but continuously complex and that made her content.

    That’s why she was so shocked by his words. They were sugary and laudatory but came out in a way that was quite straightforward. It’s possible that he often acted this way when away from the crowds but it was quite new to her.

    And she was obsessed, to put it mildly. She felt gluttonous for more open admissions. They made her feel choice because she knew that Harry didn’t do that with just anyone.

    Ceasing his rambling, Harry focused his gaze on the perpetually cool girl before him and for the first time in all his years of meeting her acquaintance, he saw a break in that composed facade.

    Her cheeks.

    They were washed with quite literally the most demure hue of pink he had ever seen. Carnation pink, to be exact. All blushy and cute like nobody had ever been so forward with her.

    At the time, Harry thought this was right ridiculous considering how alluring he found her to be, he was sure that she practically lived off of the fuel of fond confessions and compliments.

    At that moment, he hadn’t realized that he was the first person to ever treat her so delicately. To ever be so outwardly affectionate toward her.

    She was a vessel of love-giving and never was granted the opportunity to bask in the heartstring-pulling, pulpy, wonderful receiving end of such doting.

    With her lips sucked between her teeth and her heart stuttering in her chest, she agreed with a timid smile and boundless gratitude for the goodness of his statements.

    He wanted to bathe in the bashful hue that tinted her skin. Float around in frothy suds that rendered his effect on her unshakable persona. An elegant tarn of roseate liquor with petals and glossy bubbles mixed into the stream, atop the highest mountain point around. So high that he could play with the clouds and feel the dust of stars descend and tickle his skin.

    That moment was the birth of Harry’s fascination with that flowering shade of pink. In the years that had passed since he knew her, he was unable to associate it with anything other than his sweet, blushing girl.

    Sticky, clouds of spun cotton candy sugar or scoops of drippy strawberry ice cream at carnivals mocked him and made him long for her touch.

    Gardens of dahlias, peonies, and petunias were soaked in her memorial.

    The cosmetic powder blush on the cheeks of his dates for years to come was a joke to him; the hue not even akin to her sweetness.

    Not even akin to her pink.

    ...Harry breaks from his momentary strawberry bubblegum reverie with a heavy heart. The sweetness of such a juvenile, soft moment is simultaneously heartbreaking and relieving to his frenzied subconscious. It will always be candied in his memory but it’s unquestionably spoiled in some regard.

    She sits pretty and glittering in the day-star and Harry is promptly sucked back into the all-consuming, enchanting forest of memory that is y/n when more tormentingly toothsome thoughts titillate his brain.

    He sees green in the polished film cast over her irises; the reflection of a dollar bill stuck inside the leather meant for their brunch check is dwelling there and he is utterly wasted with the visions of their former...


    Plush, verdure grass painted the crests of the rolling hills in their hometown. The particularly secluded spot that Harry took y/n on their very first date was a point of immense beauty. So high up and hidden from view by tall trees that it was an oasis of solitude with a picturesque view of the sea.

    A place and moment in time where she was flushed and her smiles were bashful when he uttered the syllables of tender words.

    The color green would always remind Harry of that day. Of the grass that clung to the soft skin of her calf. That grass led to his intentional first touch of her skin with the removal of the leaf—just to be closer to her—and all the acts of devotion that fell in its wake.

    “This view is insane, Harry.” A gingham quilt sat rumpled beneath them, littered with a spread of treats. Containers of fresh fruit; sliced oranges with smiley rinds and red cherries on the stem along with a nice baguette and two jars of sweet hibiscus tea.

    To accompany their snacks, y/n had brought along a small tote of fluorescent paints, soft brushes, and cardstock.

    “S’quite nice, huh?” He hummed while carefully tending to the vivid painting that sat on his knee. “Figured you’d like it, never actually taken anybody here...” He lifted his gaze to find her’s already settled on him. Listening. Truly drinking in his words and valuing what he had to say. “Kinda my private lil spot for thinkin’ and blowin’ off steam, if need be...”

    “Well, I’m quite flattered that I get to be in on more of your secrets...” She sent him a knowing smile and a little wink, casting her eyes down to her own—and in his opinion, much better—work of art. “Won’t tell a soul about your little haven, but hey... in the event that the world is ending or something and we’re all looking to flee to outer space and nobody can find the one... the only... Harry Styles,” she screwed up her face in mock horror, hands slapping against her cheeks, “I’ll know where to find him...” A cheeky raise of her brows, “A right hero I’ll be.”

    There was just something about this girl that made Harry feel that she had been his person for years. They just clicked and he couldn’t help his need to be close to her.

    He didn’t consider himself much of an affectionate person but y/n made him yearn for intimacy and confidentiality. He wanted to earn distinctive smiles and laughs, looks and thoughts with a habitual way about them, a demeanor meant just for him.

    It was a conscious craving for connection that he had never known before.

    He had picked her up before they made their way to the grassy hillock and she blended into the space of his car with the utmost ease. Like she belonged in the passenger seat. She coasted in, muttering out a cheerful, “I fuckin’ love your car, holy shit...” Before situating herself and accepting his offered phone to play music.

    Music that he didn’t know, but found himself steadily loving, crooned through the speakers as easy conversation flowed. They chatted about the strain of school, y/n’s cafe job, and other mundane responsibilities as well as various oddities. Like their shared love of handwritten notes, the sentimental redolence of sunscreen, and the eerie feeling of waking up to a sleepy, placid world at twilight.

    Harry envisioned what It would look like for her to be wholly comfortable in the space—a distant age where she felt that it was her space as well—and he just couldn’t get the image out of his head. He found it haunting how appealing such a dreamscape was.

    A lazy summer day... y/n’s chair pushed back and reclined with her pretty, smooth legs kicked up on the dashboard. The harvest sun pouring in like a tide of mellow honey, heating them both from the inside out, Harry’s hand tracing patterns on her exposed thigh. Comely painted nails tickling up his arm with the windows rolled down and her other palm hanging out of the opening. Fingers mindlessly swimming in the breeze and a soft voice humming along to the tune spilling from the radio. Sunglasses covering her dozy eyes after a long day in the sun, a shared joint making them both feel softened and appeased.

    The portrait of a concept with her by his side was intoxicating him all the while y/n was thinking of the boy beside her in a similar vein.

    When they arrived at the lookout and she watched him handle the belongings they had brought along with such care, she was endeared. His movements were quiet and purposeful. Docile and sweet but always assured. And she absolutely loved hearing him say arbitrary things. She found that he did it a lot and it continuously caught her off guard.

    As they hiked to the top of the peak, y/n following close behind him on the narrow path, he decided that it was the perfect time to swing around, stopping their movement, to face her and make her heart blossom and cheeks tint crimson.

    “Y’know... you’re very beautiful, y/n... mind and face. Like ‘em both a lot.” He didn’t flinch, didn’t cower... absolutely no sign of doubt to be found at that moment.

    It was unalloyed honesty that he found zero hesitancy in. It was his truth and y/n loved that. She loved blatancy and Harry was the only person that could make her feel bashful with it.

    In that instant, she took the liberty of pondering what it would be like to receive such honesty every day. How fortunate she would feel to wash in his sincerity and goodness, drink it up like undiluted alcohol, and get drunk off of it. To be the only person he spoke in such a sticky, heavy way to.

    With y/n’s nonsensical anecdote that made Harry giddy, he tossed his painting to the grass beside him.

    With curious eyes, y/n looked up at him and did the same in an act of challenge, wordlessly questioning what his intention was. Some implicit dare that he had prompted that she was unquestionably willing to engage in.

    Mirrored watermelon rind smiles arose out of nowhere and Harry felt so utterly light, it was maddening. “You, y/n y/ln, are an utter dork.”

    “Is that right?”

    “Oh, absolutely”

    “Well Mr. Styles, I find that to be quite rude...” She placed a hand over her heart, comical eyes widening in mock disappointment, “Here I am,” she tutted, “pledging to keep your ungrateful ass safe from possible casualty?!? And you have the nerve to write me off as some ‘dork’...?” She shifted to stand from the blanket, “guess I’ll just take my tremendous nobility with me and be off...”

    Just as she was about to stand and make a show of her blatant teasing, Harry reached over grabbing her by the waist with a small grunt, gently tugging her back down to the plush grass, “No y’don’t!” Her meager shriek of shock quickly morphed into a fit of giggles as she was rockily settled back, making home beneath him as he tickled at her sides.

    In defense, she reached out for her paintbrush, lying abandoned in the grass beside her, and swiped the olive shade across the bridge of his nose.

    His shocked expression was amusing as the two showed no uneasiness at their proximity. It just felt right to explore the warmth radiating off of the other’s body. It felt right to be close, “You do not know who you’re messin’ with, Lil girl...” He drew his own brush like a sword in battle. Eyebrows raised in warning that only caused y/n to bite into her bottom lip, mischief bending her features, and her grin growing.

    “Think I can handle you, Curly.”

    And just like that, the tickle attack turned to a paint war that ended with wrecked clothes and two unbothered participants within seconds, both far too enamored with one another to care for the state of their skin and apparel.

    From that moment forward, the energy around them was so utterly easy that Harry convinced himself that no person would ever understand him the way that she did.

    And to this day, he still feels that way. Never has anything been so sound and so natural. Nobody could, or had, made him feel the way that the giggling girl with grass stains on her bum, paint in her hair, and the cosmos in her eyes could.

    That afternoon was the first of many days spent on the top of that hill. The first of many picnics, the first of many giggle fits, and tickle fights that would permanently make the color green completely raw and painful if it wasn’t accompanied by his favorite girl.

    ...But as of this moment, where Harry is before her after all this time. He can’t help but attribute the color to the festering envy in his gut.

    Jealousy was something that only plagued him when y/n was involved. He’d never been the jealous type but the fact that she had likely shared her quick wit, gooey gazes, and acts of love with a select group of individuals after their time together—including the man behind him that he still cannot quite bear to regard—makes him feel sick.

    It’s bitterness that he knows is unfair and childish because, after all, the fallout of their love was his doing and his doing only, but sometimes emotions are wrong and they are absurd. He just can’t help it.

    There is something achingly biting about the lovers to strangers dynamic. To go from knowing somebody in a way that no other does, to being a complete foreigner to that same person, is so troubling to Harry. You become customary to a certain song of experience that only the two of you can sound. A special feeling that you exclusively attribute to your time together. Jokes, memories, and sayings that solely your pair is intimate with. It’s an entire world that is built around two people swimming in the deepest pits of love. And to go from the weight of that to absolutely nothing is harrowing and so fucking confusing. To have your guarded tower crumble around you, the pieces falling into your pool of liquid emotion, blistering and soaking up the water in an instant to leave you barren, is wretched.

    Before Harry can let his bitterness suppurate to the point of no return, making him act imprudently, he lets his mind spindle with thoughts of better times.

    He needs to taste something nectarous no matter how selfish he feels for even finding peace in tarnished memories. Memories he is sure she no longer values.

    Harry needs something that is not so remarkably bitter to linger on his tongue for a fleeting moment while he truly digests the situation and how to approach its frailty.

    He supposes the only way to do so is to, again, refer to a time of devotion and slip into reverie. A small speck of orange appears as a blurry outline in her iris.

    A sliced orange sits untouched on her plate, gleaming in her gaze and reflecting, in a stinging ray, to his chest, fizzling up to his brain...


    Their relationship burned hot and fiery like a star whose light only smoldered brighter as the days and weeks dragged on. They were close, oh so close, but bridging the gap between playful flirtation and intimacy was a gradual process for the pair and they were very content in letting it come naturally.

    Their affinity budded and blossomed, reaching its full potential at a level inconceivable for most. They knew each other like the back of their own hands by the time that they had kissed for the very first time and it was truly quite rewarding in that the kiss was not uncomfortable or forced for either party.

    In the weeks that followed their first date, both of their lives changed exponentially. A month had gone by and there was very little that the two didn’t know about each other. To become so close so fast was a true encapsulation of their respect for one another.

    They both became unbridled with the notion of not knowing everything about the other. Their inquiry was never trite or grossly cloying, more so spontaneous with a genuine desire to ask follow-up questions.

    Senseless instances like a lunchtime break sitting in Harry’s popped open trunk where y/n asked, “Harry, do you like The Beatles? Because, if you don’t... we cannot be associated. I’m sorry, but John, Paul, George, and Ringo are where I draw the line... and I make acceptions for nobody.”

    Or a late-night walk in y/n’s neighborhood where Harry posed his question’s foundation like the words were pressing, startled her, and proceeded to ask, “What are y’thoughts on time travel, hmm? Real? Fake? Real but too dangerous and irresponsible..? Fake but fascinating...? Enlighten me.”

    And more profound talks, where they discussed their greatest fears over boiling cups of herbal tea; Harry didn’t like to let people down and y/n loathed being lied to.

    They touched on their aspirations while y/n leaned her cheek against Harry’s bicep and they looked at the stars; they both longed for peaceful, self-sufficient futures.

    They shared insecurities and self-inflicted vulnerabilities with bellies full of noodles and broth; y/n bestowed upon him her distaste for her tendency to feel inadequate and Harry told her of his worry that he was forgettable.

    Their intimate wishes and trivial preferences were exchanged with echoed bashful smiles. They unearthed that they both liked hugs so tight that they lose air for a moment, reassurance in heaping spoonfuls like sugar, and people who can talk, as well as listen, for hours. They promptly discovered that all of these wishes were easily provided by the other.

    Harry had taken to bringing y/n a bouquet of wildflowers every day after school. He would quietly cut the stems from various fields and gardens, wrapping them in newspaper and tying the bundle secure with twine. The predominant tone of the bouquets was always orange.

    Harry determined that it was her favorite color because it reminded her of “all things warm and good,” she had said, “incandescent light and creamsicle ice pops in the summer, pumpkins and fallen leaves in autumn... cute little goldfish, sunset walks, campfires, and cheese... oh! And papaya... I fucking love papaya... man, I could go on and on.”

    The flowers were an excuse to see her pretty face, even if just for a moment, on days she was occupied, ever the little busy bee. Or when he was fortunate, she would invite him to sit in the backyard sunshine with her. Some days they would chat about nothing and everything, others they’d doze off on a blanket in the lawn—her head on his chest or shoulder if lucky—waking up all groggy and blissed out from the mighty power of sunbeams.

    “H, I cannot keep accepting these. Feel awful I’ve got you nothin-”

    “You don’t like ‘em?” y/n was cut off by a pouty Harry. Big puppy dog eyes and a face clouded with disappointment–something he would often ramp up because he knew it garnered her doting and he was greedy for her affection.

    “No, no!” She took them from his grip, as he stood pitched against her entryway. Lending a soft smile in his direction—one akin to a cuddly blanket in winter, Harry thought—to subside his pouty mouth. “Absolutely love them, Sweet boy, and, more than anything, I appreciate how much you think of me. So generous, you are... so good to me” His heart thumped heavily, lower tummy tickled by her phrasing as she turned on her heels, making her way to the kitchen with an acquiescent Harry trailing behind her. y/n searched her kitchen for an empty vase, “Reckon my room could be confused for a flower shop at this point.”

    And on this day, instead of ushering him to the backyard for their shared afternoon cuddle or chat, y/n took to inviting Harry to her bedroom for the very first time. “Kinda exciting, Curly. Feel like I’m on MTV cribs...”

    He was honored that she was comfortable enough in his presence to do so and followed her promptly up the hardwood staircase to the top landing. She led him down a hallway, stopping at the very last door.

    y/n felt so secure with him. So treasured and cared for by his little acts of affection that she found it only right that he became familiar with her space. Her bedroom was her own little ball of relief and, on this afternoon, she needed to be in her own space.

    The events of the busy weekday hadn’t been too kind to her, and though she’d kept a controlled face and a smiling facade, she felt it decaying by the second beneath her feet. She couldn’t control it, something that angered y/n to a considerable degree.

    Thus, she assumed that being surrounded by her comfort items, with her comfort person, might pull her from the cavity of sorrow that she was finding herself lying idly in. It was just one of those days. One of those shit days and she couldn’t help her desperate desire for solace.

    Her bedroom was a complete and total reflection of her personality and Harry found it to be completely endearing. It was perfectly and intentionally cluttered, quite ornate like her being.

    A stack of records on the floor, overflow from her shelving unit. Her school books open and spread across the fluff of a 60s-esque shag carpet. Posters clung to ray drunken walls and stacks of magazines and books piled high in the corner. A plush bed decked out in snuggly quilts and abundant pillows; the perfect cocoon for his little caterpillar’s nights of beauty rest to aid in her daytime butterfly luminosity.

    And the room was absolutely blanketed in her gifted flower bundles. It made Harry wildly tender to know that she valued his meager gifts enough to keep them all in her space, to know that his appreciation for her was always within reach.

    “You’re quiet...” She turned to face Harry upon entry, after a grandiose fling of the door and a “ta-da” jazz hand duo, “And quiet either means ‘oh no, oh god, she’s a monster, get me out’ or ‘wow, she’s an artist, somebody actually call MTV!’... you’re sending me mixed signals,” she frowned, “can’t read you.”

    Harry tilted his head, a light scoff escaping him, all in good humor, at her theatrics, “Quite the dramatic one, you are, hmm?” He murmured. Drawing toward her, his hands reached for her shoulders, engulfing them and rubbing up and down her arms soothingly, “Think it’s quite charming. Very... you?”

    A momentary bout of vulnerability flooded her gaze, making Harry’s stomach churn, “Is that a good thing?”

    It was rare that y/n showed a side of her where her wit was entirely washed away by the softness of uncertainty. She was always soft with him but she often used comedy to deflect feelings of inadequacy and at that moment, Harry could see that his touch and the alleviation of being in her own reservation brought a never before seen level of trust and docility.

    With drawn brows, Harry gave her defenseless face a once over. Bottom lip tucked and pierced red between her teeth, cheeks roseate and smooth, eyes doe-like and glossy. Her shoulders were quite deflated and Harry was now regarding just how exhausted she looked.

    y/n’s defense slipped in moments of depletion where she just felt too damn tired to fight it off. All the little things would pile up and she’d hit a wall.

    “Baby...” The pet name made her whimper, actually whimper. Being spoken to so softly when she was on the brink of a little meltdown was a surefire way to make her tip right over the edge. Her chest gave a small heave and in an instant, her cheeks were wet with tears and her breaths came out in small splutters. Harry quickly pulled her to his chest and she all but melted like goo in his resolute hold, “Shh shh, course s’a good thing, my Sweet girl... cutest room, all lovely jus’ like you.” He took the liberty of pulling their entwined limbs toward her bed, “C’mere...” She moved fluidly, crumpling into his lap and curling up like a kitten with her hands fisting the cotton of his shirt, “Hey, what’s the matter, angel? Hmm? Know s’bigger than the room, yeah? Wanna talk t’me?”

    She shook her head against the solid heat of his chest, body still trembling with shaky gasps, “Kay, okay. That’s all right, baby. Mmm, wanna cuddle instead? Don’ have to do anythin’ y’don’t wanna.” His humility and accommodating nature–meant to lead her to a state of comfortability in not sharing–actually worked to make her feel protected enough in sharing.

    And like the crack of a floodgate, it all came pouring out, “I-I’m tired, Harry. F-feel overwhelmed right now a-and I don’t know why,” she inhaled big, shaky stutters, “s-school, my job, college prep, I-I’m overworking myself... s’my fault b-but I’m just really done.” All the big things that were weighing down on her, like any normal high school student, followed by the trivial matters that only work to pester somebody on a day where everything just feels heavy, “Don’t wanna d-do homework today and my favorite pen broke a-and I ran out of coffee this morning... then my fuckin’ car wouldn’t start, h-had to walk to school and-and the sun barely came out today...” she wiped her nose with the back of her hand and sniffled, “and then, you. You come to my house all-all nice to me, all sweet with your pretty flowers and your pretty face when I’m- why? Why are y’so nice to me?”

    She didn’t look at him once during her rambling, finding it easier to spew her feelings without the intensity of eye contact.

    So, Harry took it upon himself to gingerly rest his hands on both of her cheeks, lightly squishing them in his hold, and forcing her to look up at him. He swiped the pads of his thumbs under her puffy eyes to momentarily rid the tears that made his heart hurt.

    When she was finally looking at him with bashful, wet eyes, he took a pure approach, “Hi.” y/n’s brows pulled together as she searched his face and she let out a light, depleted giggle at his words.


    “That was a lot, yeah?” She nodded compliantly. Seemingly clinging to every word in her sleepy, dazed state, “Sounds like y’had a right shit day, baby. M’so sorry. I get how y’feel. Feel like this a lot myself,” relatability goes a long way when somebody feels that their emotions aren’t fitting, Harry saw this occur as her eyes lit up significantly, “those big things that you’re feelin’ are completely valid, Pretty girl... and sometimes, when the important things feel real heavy, the lil shit jus’ piles up and it’s all way too much. Trust me, I get it. And, hey, it doesn’t make you any less strong to feel overwhelmed sometimes. Jus’ gotta look at the big picture, everything will work out in the end, all we can do is our personal best n’take it day by day, okay?”

    y/n all but sprung forward in his hold, arms curling tightly around his neck as she sniffled, “You always know what to say, thank you, Harry.”

    He absorbed her embrace and hugged her back tightly, rubbing a hand up and down her spine, “Mm, nope. No need t'thank me... and any affection from me t’you s’just a reflection of what you deserve, yeah? You’re a special person, y/n. Sunshine, you are. What I do... s’not even enough, angel. You deserve the world.”

    And y/n took it. Digested his words and didn’t protest because she felt thoroughly worn and Harry had been on her case the week prior about not always putting up a fight when offered another’s truth. So, she didn’t.

    Harry laid her down, coaxing the two into a chrysalis of fluffy blankets. She was swaddled in not only soft linens but in breathy whispers of reassurance. Velvety mumbles of, “such a sweet girl,” and “real proud of you, angel,” alongside delicate pets of her hair and feathery traces on her cheek with the calloused pad of his finger. It all wafted around her head. Tender and light.

    In the most melodious voice he’d ever heard, y/n crackled through Harry’s reverie like glowing television static, with her eyes still closed, body relaxed. “Really want you to kiss me,” he all but froze, “don’t know why you haven’t. Making me kinda sad... do you not wanna? It’s okay if you don’t. Just... I dunno... kinda wanna know what you taste like? Got a pretty mouth.”

    Harry had to press his eyes shut tightly, his heart damn near ripped through his chest with its thunderous ticks. He let out a frustrated puff through his nostrils. She had no idea how innocently lewd she was and it made his skin flush hot.

    He had thought about kissing her more times than he could count and though both were equally in no rush he knew that y/n’s exhausted state was draining out her innermost thoughts. The thoughts that didn’t take up the forefront of her mind but those that hazily drifted through her subconscious. Kept on the back burner, only to be dwelled upon during a restless night’s sleep or a boring, daydream-inducing lesson.

    “Y’so cute it’s almost painful, y’know?” Harry whispered, an easy smile tugging at his lips. He watched, captivated, as y/n opened up her sleep-drunk eyes, mirroring his expression with a small upturn of her own lips, “Course I wanna kiss you, Pretty girl. Think ‘bout it all the time but I don’ know if right now-”

    Her smile fell to an almost petulant pout, “No... no, please,” it was muttered, whiney, and needy, “wouldn’t be taking advantage or anything... promise you. You’re so good for thinking of me, Harry. So so good, so sweet. Promise I’m all here. Want it, please.” Her face was hopeful, longing.

    With y/n’s admission, Harry couldn’t resist her. She was there and she wanted him. She needed him and he couldn’t say no to her after such a poor day. Couldn’t say no to her and leave her to overthink his own intentions when they were genuinely so cloudless... so wanting.

    So, he leaned in, catching her little gasp, and connected their mouths. And it wasn’t an end-of-movie, dramatic display of trite passion; two over-enthused figures looking to play up a moment meant to be gentle, meant to be peachy. It was anything but hackneyed. Her lips were soft and pillowy, careful and attentive. It was perfectly simple.

    Refined, sugary, and warm. It was sunbeams in their bellies. Hot, crackling fires glowing in their chests. And fuzzy, sunset bliss clouding their separate but melded intellects. Wholly encompassed by a bedroom saturated in apricot bouquets; representative of steadiness and desire.

    It was everything good. Everything warm and inviting about the color orange.

    ...y/n smiles a sunshiny smile as the man approaches her. It’s brilliant and animated. One Harry is sure could cause a senile dowager’s insides to turn to singing serendipity. Plentiful and sprightly.

    Sunshine. The star that produces it is such a fickle sphere that it’s virtually a perpetual vessel of apprehension in Harry’s current world. It’s transient, fleeting. Easily overcome by clouds and vapors and he is untrusting of this ephemeral reservoir of joy. It’s there and he’s content, within a second, it’s gone and he is left desolate as ever.

    When y/n was in his world, was his world, he had a constant sunkissed flush to him. When the fiery orb of light was tucked behind clouds he didn’t feel the likes of seasonal depression or daily mood swings because he had her. His own lady-Apollo to stand in its place. She walked on sunshine, propelled its beams outward with every smile, and cooked him to the bone.

    That’s why he’s flung into the illusions of the sun’s hue with unrelenting force when he sees the ball itself poke out from behind the clouds to dance on solely y/n’s frame. He’s sure that it’s solely y/n that the light is catching with such fierce illumination.

    It’s enough luster for her to squint her pretty eyes with just the faintest reflection of bright, yellow radiance to be seen...

    It was a mystery how the pair ended up spending every weekend for months on end at the beach. They never planned the trips per se but there was an unspoken understanding between the two that there was no place they’d rather be. So, why not spend every moment possible soaking up the gift of plentiful hot days and an ocean in their backyard.

    Harry and y/n’s predilection for each other grew and grew. Following their first kiss, the days of utopian company increased with fever.

    Months rolled by, the school year drew to a close, and they were content in basking in their last completely carefree summer holiday. They both knew that the year following, their final year of high school, would lead to a summertime that was much heavier in adult responsibility, so, they wanted to make the most of the slothful, balmy time that they had.

    The smell of coconut tanning oil infiltrated their senses every day, birds twittered their songs alongside the rhythmic crashing tides, their tongues regularly tasted like cool watermelon and one another.

    Things couldn’t get better.

    The specifics of each trip varied from weekend to weekend but there was a long-running motif of comfort that sat happily in their tummies as they relaxed on the seashore.

    Some days, Harry would bring his guitar. Lightly plucking at nylon and steel with a t-shirt wadded up on a rock behind his head and a toothpick fiddled between his teeth. He worked to lull his lover into a peaceful afternoon doze. Fingers dancing with the melodies of classic Beatles tunes, soft Fleetwood renditions, or the innate intricacy of Croce.

    A natural schedule that he had set to lessen y/n’s meltdowns caused by college-prep burnout and exhaustion. He worked extra hard to keep her ‘weekend peace’ for this very reason.

    Nap days were usually out of direct sunlight, the pair tucked snugly beneath a palm tree to avoid waking sick from too much heat.

    y/n enjoyed their shaded comfort pocket more than she could express. Being with Harry made her feel safe and she had an acute sense of adoration for small vessels of relief. She felt that their tree nook was a perfect example of repetitive solace, their habitual attendance and the routine that Harry had got the two of them into flowered a new vein of appreciation for her boy inside of her heart.

    It was a little thing. A little thing that Harry knew made her feel protected. He was aware of her contentment in repetition and made sure to cater to this desire whenever possible.

    He sent her a message every morning, a constant reminder of how proud he was of her and how proud she should be of herself. He’d call her “Sunshine” and make sure to affirm that, “Every day the sun appears for you, y/n. It shines because of you.” And that was enough to soothe her mornings.

    Every afternoon when they met, he would kiss her forehead, then her lips, give her a tight squeeze, and casually mention something that he admired about her. “Your skin is so warm n’soft, so cuddly...” Or, “How’s my smart girl doin’ on this fine afternoon?” Or, “Tell me sum’, angel. Anything, please. Jus’ wanna hear what y’gotta say. I know somethin’ good is goin’ on up there.”

    By evening, he would have already showered her in affection. So rich and so sticky. Yet to part, he would nevertheless utter a soft murmur of reassurance, “G’na miss this sweet face. Hope y’visit while I’m dreamin’...”

    The little things. The little mannerisms and recognition of her inclinations made him so special to her. And though y/n treasured Harry’s care of her, making him feel safe and adored was equally as important to the backbone of their relationship.

    When she’d wake from her nap all sleepy and adorable, little yawns pouring from between her lips and arms drawing in a big stretch, she would search around in her bag to find her recent novel of choice. Sending him a bleary smile, she would pat at her tummy, and wait for him to quietly shuffle over till a sea of curls was tickling her abdomen, his cheek pressed against her ribcage, his gaze set on her face.

    Mindlessly running her fingers through his hair, she would read aloud till, he too, took his turn falling asleep.

    Harry had taken to naming this period his “Naptime Lap Time” and upon winning y/n’s gaze of ardor at the cute nickname of choice, he just had to fuck with her a little, “Guess it could be ‘Naptime Flap Time’ too considerin’ that y’always choose to flap y’gums while I’m tryin’ t’snooze- ouch!” A joke that earned him a light tug to the hair and an eye roll before they locked gazes and both couldn’t contain their giggling at his nonsense.

    y/n doted on Harry in a way that was innate to her. So inherent to her being that he was unsure she recognized how lovely it was, how excellent of a partner it made her. Not only did he pick up on her preferences, but she did so for him without notice as well. She regularly found time to reflect his honesty back to him in consoling bouts. Absentmindedly praising his existence. Showing him how memorable he was.

    Soft murmurs of, “Prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen... think you’re making green my favorite color. It’s so safe.” On days where she could see a drop of uncertainty weighing on his shoulder.

    To quell his longing to please others, y/n would truthfully affirm, “Never ever felt more secure than when I’m with you. You take such good care of me, Sweet boy.” She reveled in watching his eyes soothingly light up, and his frame regain its resolution. It made her a puddle at his feet, him at her’s.

    Other beach days were less shaped, they would lay out in the direct sunlight. Cook their bodies till their skin had accumulated enough sweat to warrant a dip and subsequent playtime in the ocean’s foamy bath. They would swim out past the break and float on their backs or dive under waves for hours on end.

    Saturday had been a playful day of exertion amongst the tides. Thus, when Lazy Sunday rolled around the two found themselves tucked beneath their safe little palm tree, basking in each other’s company. y/n’s head was pressed to Harry’s chest, her arm hugged around his torso, as he traced shapes on the skin of her thigh that was fastened around his own, “You know, you never asked me to be your girlfriend... so, technically,” she pressed a kiss to the warm skin covering the thud of his heartbeat, “you know... according to the books and such, I am on the market.”

    At her words, his tracing ceased and he shifted his head to peek down at her. Brows drawn, blatantly unimpressed, “S’that so?” He feigned indifference as she nodded up at him, “Well, Sweet girl, guess if you’re on the market so m’I, huh?”

    “Hmm, guess so.”

    “Well, that’s quite the relief, been oglin’ at this pretty lil girl in a skimpy yellow bikini all day, was hopin’ you’d give me the ‘okay’ sooner or later but m’a lil too nervous to talk to her, if m’honest.”

    y/n was a bit worn and his admission was so carefree that it startled her exceedingly. A naive heart feeling confused by the approach he had taken in responding to her joke. It was a joke. Of course, she knew she wasn’t ‘on the market’, it would be absurd to even imagine feeling that way with how wrapped up in all things Harry she was.

    She all but flew up from their cuddle, face twisted in shock, a small gasp leaving her lips, “Harry! What?” She looked genuinely shocked and hurt by his confession, “Oh my gosh! I was joking!” Just as she was about to swing around and look for the ‘pretty girl’ in question, Harry grabbed her hips giving them a small squeeze, waiting for her realization to set in.

    He thought she looked absurdly cute with a little scowl on her face and it made his ravenous heart swell with how possessive she seemed to be of him.

    “No, no... she’s too pretty, don’ want y’gettin’ jealous or sum’,” y/n’s face decayed more, setting into a low pout and Harry smiled, “she’s got these real beautiful eyes. Pretty kissable mouth, I’d say. Cute lil nose.” Her eyes grew substantially, jaw slack; looking to speak but nothing came out, “...’nd a perfect fuckin’ body. Cute bum, miles of soft skin, pretty tits.”

    His words had y/n’s eyes fully welled up with tears in an instant, feeling lost and betrayed because she felt this was so far from her Harry’s disposition. He would never make her feel second to anybody and most certainly not a stranger.

    She was clearly more drowsy than he supposed because he instantly felt guilt trickle through the cavity of his chest like molten wax, he knew it would be alleviated in a moment when she realized what he was saying, but Harry also never wanted to be the reason that she cried, unless they were belly pressing tears of laughter, “Oh, my baby,” it was gentle as he rolled their bodies over, y/n was pliable, melty in his hold, “y’cryin’, Sweet thing? So silly, don’ cry, lovie, ‘m sorry... shh,” The pads of his thumbs found her under eyes, wiping the tears building in her waterline and threatening to spill over.

    He didn’t want to smile because he knew it would make her poutier, but her gentle disposition and impassioned reaction to a minor misunderstanding was infinitely sweet to him, so he willed away his grin for her momentary interest.

    “B-but I... that’s so mean-” She sniffled and Harry hushed her, smoothing the pad of his thumb down her cheek and to the wet pout of her mouth, effectively cutting her off.

    “Mm, shh. Guess the pretty lil girl in the skimpy yellow bikini can’t read me very well today, huh?” His free hand traced down her side, rough fingertips tickling the outline of her ribcage, falling to her hips—causing goosebumps to rise in their wake—till he looped his finger beneath the strap of her bottoms, snapping them against her skin with a raise of his brows.


    Her yellow bikini bottoms...

    The bright material that clung to her body. Akin to fields of daffodils, hot sunshine, lemon drops, and fresh banana peels. So unconventionally sunny that it would be ridiculous to not know that one was referring to you.

    y/n felt a bit daft. A little flustered by her reaction and guilty for even considering that Harry would say something like that to her.

    Harry took into account her look of realization and threw her a lopsided smile, squeezing at her hip before bringing both forearms to rest by the sides of her head, pillowed by a sandy sheet.

    y/n was trapped in a little box of Harry and he remembered her expressing how safe she felt, on numerous occasions, in moments where the rest of the world became cloudy, drifting away with his proximity. The secluded palm tree hid their intimacy from curious onlookers. Minty breath fanned across her skin. The sway of delicate, caramel curls tickled her forehead. And plunging, glassy eyes kept her fine and secure.

    Quick as ever, Harry readily subdued her fault and doubt, “Mhm. Prettiest girl, she is... really fancy her.” His tongue slid across his lips before he rolled them into his mouth. Peridot gems studied her face tenderly. “Beautiful eyes...” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, both thumbs traced her eyebrows and as her eyes fluttered shut with the faint touch, he ran the pads across her eyelids and leaned down to press a delicate kiss to both, so light and feathery, “dainty lil nose,” he traced down the slope of the bridge, booping the tip with his thumb and kissing that point as well, “...tempting lips, wanted to kiss ‘em f’years,'' he revealed, following a path to her cupids bow and tracing the shape of her mouth tantalizingly slowly.

    Her eyes waved open to see his own fixated on her mouth. With a little intake of breath, she lifted her chin, just slightly, to wordlessly express that she wanted a kiss.

    He continued his torment though, not giving in to her voiceless request. He pushed with a bit more force on her bottom lip, drawing it down just enough to slip his finger into her mouth in an instance of fresh intimacy, brand-new and experimental to both.

    Any thoughts of risk on Harry’s part were washed away quickly when she sucked it past her teeth submissively, the skin tasting of saltwater and traces of pineapple juice.

    Harry let out a staggered puff through his nose in response, eyes pinching tightly for a moment before he retracted his finger, receiving a light bite to the pad on the way out. He painted it wetly across her lips, feeling so warm and hypnotized by her willingness to succumb to him, and subsequently earning a honeyed kiss to the skin when it came to a standstill in the center.

    y/n's eyes were swimming with want, and she audibly whined as he slid his thumb to rest against her cheek, cupping her face and lifting his own out of reach, they were both thoroughly murky and tingly, “Y’need sum’ from me, baby?” y/n sent him an eager, blissed-out nod, “Mm,” he tutted, “can’t read y’mind, angel. Tell me what y’need, huh?”

    “Mm... some kisses, please?”

    Her breathy, dulcet request made his heart tick and tap with fondness. A little puddle of sultry, sugary nectar beneath him. Remarkably dirty to delicate and sweet in a second.

    He couldn’t help his airy chuckle, “Cutest fuckin’ human, swear t’God.” The admission was more so him thinking out loud than anything else, he was so utterly gone for her. She shook her head and Harry swallowed her bashful giggle with a searing kiss, only pulling back to tut at her denial, “Don't believe me?” She shrugged, “swear t’ya” kiss, “nobody like you,” kiss, “favorite person...” Another kiss.

    y/n smiled up at him, cheeks warm and insides gooey. “Can’t forget the rest’a you though,” her eyes widened a bit and Harry let out a little laugh, mumbling, “baby deer in headlights face,” as he shuffled down pressing tiny kisses to her neck and collarbone. Just light enough to be innocent, the placement bordering on a fresh sensual level, “wasn’t lying ‘bout y’perfect body... my own lil paradise. All slushy and warm.”

    He skipped over her chest opting to blow a raspberry against her tummy. The change of pace was enough to make her let out a shriek kicking her feet at his sides.


    He merely chuckled, sitting up and pulling her with him to lay against his chest with his back against the shady tree trunk.

    “So,” his hands were splayed across her belly, chin rested atop her head as she settled in and twisted the rings on his fingers, “y’really wanted me t’ask y’out properly, hmm?”

    “Was kinda joking, but you know I’m no good with uncertainty, baby... guess I had just figured. I mean, I knew we weren’t seeing other people or anything but clarity is my preference, you know that.”

    “Yeah, we’re fuckin’ not. Glad we’re on the same page there,” y/n giggled at his candid response, “we spend every wakin’ moment t’gether, my love, just kinda assumed that the title came along w’that. Know how you operate though, shoulda’ been vocal ‘bout my thoughts. Know you love that.”

    y/n nodded against his chest, “Not your fault, Sweet boy. Mutual fuck up, yeah? And sorry I overreacted, should’ve been able to see right through you. Little lapse in judgment, I guess.”

    Harry snorted at her words, “Absolutely. Dumb and Dumber, reportin’ for duty.” He squeezed at her hands, fingers slotting between her own as she rolled her head on his shoulder to smile up at him, “And no need t’apologize, all is good. Like seein’ you all possessive anyway, shit’s hot as fuck... like knowin’ y’want me all t’yourself,” y/n rolled her eyes at his frankness, “I get it though, I mean... look at this face, I’m practically a lady magnet,” he wiggled his brows comically, “on the streets they call me Mr.-”

    y/n was quick to cut off his ridiculous ramble, “Narcissist?” She laughed, “You’re an idiot. A face only a mother could love.” She tutted in jest.

    A mock gasp left his lips and y/n’s eyes twinkled with trouble, “Whatever, Loser,” he pinched her thigh and she yelped, crinkling her nose and sticking her tongue out at him, “but, hey, back on track... the real question is... whose Dumb n’whose Dumber...?” His brows raised in question, a sly smile making its way to his lips, “Cause uh last time I checked... durin' school, my grade in AP calc was lookin’ far more attractive than your-”

    “Don’t test your luck, Curly... you’ve been doing a lot of that today,” y/n’s brows raised in warning, eyes squinting in an act of challenge, “or you’ll be in the doghouse, Big boy. I’m capable of a lot...”

    y/n fancied a shift in control after Harry’s quick show of his ability to make her a glob of putty at his feet.

    She knew it made him quite smug to know his effect on her, and though she actually enjoyed his temporary periods of self-satisfaction, when his ego came out—she regretfully found it quite attractive on him—she also cherished making him flustered because she reveled in the fact that she was the only person capable of making him nervous.

    “Mm, are y’now?” Harry felt a bit warm, a bit hazy as she turned in his grip like she was ready to stand, only to straddle his waist for a fleeting moment, applying the smallest bit of pressure to his lap with her thighs and bum, yellow bikini-clad figure teasing him ever so innocently.

    Hovering her lips above his own, she taunted him with the notion of a quick kiss only to gently draw back and run her fingers through his hair. A light tug at the roots to keep him at bay, caused a little unexpected whine to claw up the back of his throat. Lip between her teeth, she smiled down at him–to conceal her own surprise at his reaction–and redirected her inviting mouth to the shell of his ear.

    Sweetly, she whispered, “Oh, yeah. Got loads of secrets, baby... they’re special, just for you...” she let out a patient sigh, pulling back, and cupping his jaw to redirect his attention to her face, “promise I’ll show you one day... just keep being good for me, okay?”

    A dumbfounded Harry nodded back at her, mouth slightly agape, and eyes lustrous.

    It was gratifying.

    His chest and lower belly alike fluttered with the promise of salacious secrets meant just for him. Exclusively for his eyes and ears. “C’mon, Sweet boy. I’m all sweaty... feel hot and sticky, let’s go for a little swim, yeah?” Neatly suggestive, like sucking a cherry past your teeth or gently smearing rich, white sunscreen on exposed thighs.

    And just like that, she was off. Skipping toward the water with a quickly-recovering Harry hot on her heels.

    He scooped her up and slung her over his shoulder like she was weightless, while she squeaked out in shock. His palm delivered a heavy smack to her outer thigh. “M’girlfriends got a bit of a dirty mouth on her, huh?”

    Her giggles and shouts for help only subsided when she was tossed into the water with a splash, Harry diving into the glassy current right behind her.

    A yellow bikini and the glow of sun-bright reassurance bridged a questioning lull in their relationship. Answering to subjects of fresh confidence and shared relief.

    ...Half of y/n’s picturesque frame is covered by the stature of the man along with that sickeningly sweet smile that graced her face. Harry assumes he is now absorbing the incandescent light that radiates from her lips and off of her body, taking in the tropical glow and letting it seep into every cleft and splinter in his nature. Allowing it to take his–in Harry’s envious eyes–frozen insides and turn them to warm treacle.

    The man’s shirt, a light brown color–that Harry thinks looks quite unpleasant on his frame–becomes considerably more attractive when he steps off to the side and Harry sees the color coruscating in the winsome girl’s eyes.

    She gingerly bats her lashes as the pair begin to speak and the dull shade of brown suddenly paints the inside of Harry’s eyelids.

    He tilts his head up to the sky, eyes pressing shut as he lets out an exhale in distress. The tone screams a million things at once; y/n’s fluffy childhood teddy, feeding a spoonful of chocolate ice cream past her teeth, the turning leaves that she loved to crunch beneath the soles of her shoes. And though every racing thought is enchanting, one adheres to the ridges of his brain and refuses to let go...

    Summer swept the pair off of their feet with a mighty billow of saltwater between their toes and a gentle flurry titillating their fancy.

    Cruising afternoons of peace where Harry’s fantasy of a blissed-out y/n stretched, abundant and pliant, in his passenger seat became habitual. Adventure was at every turn and they made their days customary and tender.

    They explored every nook and cranny of their hometown. Every spot that was once tedious and ordinary became soaked in Eden.

    Soaked in the other.

    The bookstore on an old street corner—once reminding them both of mandatory school research—became their homey evening scene. y/n scouring the shelves for her next niche find and Harry trailing behind her with grabby hands and semi-helpful remarks, “W’bout this one, baby?” He’d slide an arbitrary novel from the shelf and when asked to explain to her the reason behind his antsy choice he would sham, “Mm, dunno. Heard good things ‘bout it...” unable to meet her eyes, whistling like a guilty cartoon boy, he’d rock back and forth on his feet. When y/n would press further he’d cave like a whiny child, “Kay. Never heard of it, y’got me,” he’d sulk, “s’got a pretty cover though? ‘Nd I’d like to get you home n’cuddle you some. M’sleepy.” His charming nature often got him his way, y/n would give him a tiding kiss and squeeze his hand before hauling him through a few more isles, as briskly as she could, so that they could return home and snuggle like they both pleased.

    The hole-in-the-wall burger joint on the beachfront—that they’d never been too familiar with before that summer—was an accidental, pleasant find. They were both starving and y/n had been grumbling about wanting a chocolate milkshake the entirety of the day. So, Harry took the liberty of dragging her in by their joined hands that afternoon and they were keen to find that, though humble, it was entirely delicious and dependable. y/n got her sugar fix and Harry ate half the menu, sharing bites of the good bits with her. “Happy?” He asked, and when he received a bright smile and nod while her cheeks were full of the drink, he was content. And they frequented the establishment every week after finding it to be so darling.

    The seasonal carnival that set up in the, normally empty, fairgrounds was fun; a place where the couple was flooded with sensation. Bright streams of red, yellow, and blue light. Loud, whizzing rollercoasters and great circus tents with unusual performers. They ate a glossy candy apple and a collection of deep-fried treats. Sharing a joint prior to their attendance made the bulbs blink more vividly, the performances appear wilder, and the sweets taste even better. It was an evening of rapture. Harry forced y/n to ride in a rickety sky glider that made her damn near wet her pants. His reassurance being, “Don’t be scared, Sweet girl. If we fall, we’ll likely only break a few bones, maybe a paralyzed spine or sum’? S’not the end of the world...” to which he received a smack upside the head and a pouty mouth that he kissed better till giggles fell from between her lips instead of concerns.

    Thus, the rundown bookstore on the corner of Maple and 5th became theirs. The little beach shack diner became theirs. The empty fair lot became theirs. As well as every other spot in town. There wasn’t an inch of the space that didn’t become rich in their memory. The palm tree haven and the entirety of the shore was drenched. The lookout hill that was once Harry’s solitary spot was shared. y/n’s backyard, kitchen, and soft sheets. The high school football field that they snuck into at night, all of the town’s hiking trails, the quiet suburban streets, each grocery store and boutique, the movie theater, the tennis courts, Harry’s car. All saturated and changed forever.

    Not only did areas become theirs, but things became theirs.

    In y/n’s mind, little objects became Harry. They didn’t remind her of him, they were him. Brassy rings and corduroy pants. Heavy, thick knit sweaters. Sea glass in the sand and his sights. Tufts of grass and tropical tea. Joints and the hot feeling that accompanied the fiery tip. Tickle fights, soft nips of skin, and secure hugs. Classic films, flowers, and guitar. Cinnamon toothpicks. Coconut curls and the fragrance itself on summer days. Naptime and blissful rest. All things good and pure in the world. They were Harry to her.

    They always would be.

    Harry found the same phenomenon. Soft rock music, scribbling ballpoint pens on parchment. Cherries plucked off the stem. y/n. Bubblegum that he liked to pop with his finger. Converse. Vanilla perfume on a lickable collarbone. Paintbrushes, soft quilts, and fluffy pillows. y/n. Whirring records. Butterflies in the sky and his stomach. Crackling fire pits. The color of sunset. Bikinis, bikinis, bikinis. y/n. y/n. y/n. Sunscreen. Banned books and big sunglasses. Soft giggles and playful eye rolls.

    Happiness, paradise, comfort... love. y/n.


    When Harry wholly came to this realization, it had been scratching at his brain for weeks. He was nearly sure that he loved her on multiple occasions and though he wanted to yell it from the rooftops, sing along to love songs with her in mind, and whisper those three distinctive words into her ears–he didn’t want to come across as too presumptuous or hasty.

    He wasn’t sure if she would feel the same and he didn’t think he could bear unrequited love. It would hurt far too much for her to not say it back. So, he held off.

    For weeks he let it sit heavy in his mind, sealing his lips when it threatened to spill out unchecked. And it was hard to do. It was hard to keep it to himself when she said and did all of the right things constantly.

    He wanted to speak it through a giggle when she made a raunchy joke just to cheer him up when he was down. He desired to leave it with her as a parting message every time he had to drop her off at home and she would hop out of his car–after pressing a kiss to his mouth and cheek. He almost let it slip when he was sluggish, drowsy, and drunk on her while she ran her fingers through his hair and looked at him like he hung the moon just for her. He craved to know what it would feel like to say it to her in a deeply romantic moment when things were serious–slushy and sweet–and he could use the words to further the poignance of his adoration.

    And as much as he yearned for it, he kept his internal battle under lock and key.

    “Harry? What’s the matter, baby?”

    That was until a sunny August morning where Harry just couldn’t keep it to himself any longer.

    He felt jittery with nerves but the unrelenting tug in his gut was more substantial than those worries. He thought that y/n looked unbelievably flawless throughout the entirety of their breakfast picnic. His mind was so, so fuzzy.

    Her long skirt was flowy, her top was little and soft–she sat in the park that they ate in like it was meant for her. Like she was a tiny flower in the grass, perhaps a daisy.

    Was she always that cute?

    Her lips were cherry red and her hair looked shiny and soft, tucked behind her ears.

    Were her lips always that enticing? Did her hair always look so nice?

    She spoke with the perfect amalgam of intelligence and wit.

    Was she always so fucking perfect?

    He wanted to utter the words throughout the entirety of their picnic but he kept holding himself back with doubt plaguing his busy subconscious. He was so frazzled that day by regular y/n-esque traits, it was absurd. Of course, she was always beautiful, soft, and witty. He just used these tricks as justifications for his hesitance.

    Thus, it wasn’t till they were packing up their things to return to their homes in separate cars that he finally willed the courage to address her with proper regard to the subject.

    They stood at the boot of his car, picnic basket tucked into one nook and blanket sat idly beside it. y/n was pitched against the car’s hot shell looking at a wildly dazed Harry with brows furrowed. This was where they were meant to part–both having separate commitments to attend to during the afternoon–and y/n was waiting for Harry’s consideration before she took off.

    “Sorry, love. Bit spacey today is all,” he lent her an apologetic smile that she took, rinsing his odd behavior out of her mind in an instant, “m’all good. Didn’t mean to tune y’out or anythin’...”

    A warm smile charmed her profile as she pushed off of the vehicle and wiggled her way into Harry’s arms. He responded immediately, limbs snaking around her to deliver a firm squeeze, “All is good, Sweet boy. Not mad at all... was just concerned.” She adjusted herself till her chin was resting on the hot cotton of his chest. She beamed up at him, rubbing her hands up and down his back, and his head tilted down to meet her eyes, “you sleepy today, lovie?”

    He sent a little nod her way, “A bit, yeah... but, hey, kinda wanted to talk t’you ‘bout sum’-”

    “Oh shit! Me too,” Harry was promptly cut off by an incredibly enthusiastic y/n.

    She grinned brightly, untangling herself from his hold, “...thank you for reminding me, I totally would have forgotten to grab it.” He threw her a mildly surprised look that she missed while digging around in the tote bag slung over her shoulder. “This, my love...” her hand was revealed, “is for you...” and in her grip was a rectangular gift, wrapped in parchment and tied off with a bit of red ribbon. She beamed up at him, “It’s nothing much, just a novel but, I- um... well, I think you’ll find the words valuable... well, uh, hopefully.” Her expression became a bit timid as he took it from her hold and Harry was unsure as to why.

    “Thank you, angel. M’excited,” his grin was cloudless and genuine, momentarily overlooking his annoyance with his own procrastination, “want me t’open it now? Or-”

    “No!” Harry was startled by her prompt response, “I- I um... sorry, just mean that it’s no big deal. Just something little. You can open it at home. No biggie,” she shrugged her shoulders, looking down at her feet, “cause- uh, I kinda gotta run. Got work in a little, you know that... can’t be late, and- uh... I still gotta change and stuff-”

    “Kay... okay, Sweet girl,” he set the gift down on the folded blanket beside them, shifting to overwhelm her shoulders with his palms, painting up and down her skin, “I’ll open it at home, all good...” he was looking to ease the sudden, strange flood of anxiety that dripped off of her being. And though she expressed that she had to leave, Harry needed to spit out the words that he’d been attempting to for the past two hours. He felt that he would go mad if he didn’t get it off of his chest, “Hey, baby,” y/n looked up at him, “know this isn’t really the time nor place but I... uh, well v’been dying to say this for so long now, ‘nd I kinda feel like m’goin’ crazy,” he let out a wry laugh, shaking his head and attempting to sway his nerves, “know you have work, but I- uh, I’ll make it quick... promise.” y/n’s brows pinched together, “And, uhm, no pressure at all. Nothin’s gonna change between us if y’don’t feel the same but I- I just, I need t’tell you cause I really, really fuckin’ can’t wait anymore,” he let out a nervous puff of air, looking straight into her eyes that were swimming with something unrecognizable to him, “y/n, baby... I lo-”

    “I-I really need to go, Harry.”

    y/n’s body was rigid as she pulled back from his hold, leaving his tender hands frozen and his face jarred and blindsided.


    “I’m gonna be late for work, uh- let’s talk later.”

    Harry blinked wearily, his brain warping, muddled and somber, as he attempted to follow her words. His spirit crumbled when he watched her stumble back and away from him like he was a toxicant, some harmful virus, leaving him humiliated and abandoned with trembling hands and misty eyes, before turning on her heels without sparing him a second look or a moment to reply.

    y/n knew what he was going to say and she just couldn’t face it,

    She clambered into her car faster than she ever had. Her fingers shook as she stuck her key into the ignition and reversed from her spot, racing out of the parking lot. She felt nauseous and remarkably selfish, watery eyes making the road blur as she heaved out a cracked sob.

    y/n knew what was coming when she interrupted him for her own self-indulgent reasons.


    She hoped he was oblivious to her recognition of what was to come but it was fruitless. She pretended she didn’t see his eyes gloss over when she drew back from his hold, she acted as though she couldn’t feel his conviction shattering at his feet with her cold dismissal, and she wished she hadn’t peered back at him in her rearview mirror to see him standing right where she left him, a ghost of her playful boy. And as much as she wished to float in a narrative that he’d not known of her perception, she knew he did. And she loathed herself for it.

    Harry was aware that she put the pieces together. He was acutely aware, and it made his chest ache.

    He didn’t remember the drive home. He was confined in his mind throughout the entirety. His feet planted firmly inside of his cruel subconscious, bolted into place, while the fire of his sorrow burned through the soles of his shoes. It melted the rubber and maimed his feet, the flames catching the ends of his jeans, quickly engulfing them in its extreme heat and subsequently traveling up the entirety of his body. Willing his clothes destroyed and his skin wounded and raw with grief. The only thing that worked to subside the painful, all-consuming fire of his anguish were the tears that dripped from his flushed cheeks. They poured down his neck, pooling at his collarbone, and soaking the cotton of his shirt.

    He was perplexed and his confusion almost outweighed the pain of his fears materializing. The look of realization that crossed y/n’s face–one he hoped would lead to her acting blushy and soft–caused her to want to distance herself from him and Harry didn’t understand why.

    Did she not care for him in the way that he cared for her?

    Was he misreading the entirety of their relationship?

    No, it couldn’t be.

    She was so aloof. His heart plummeted into his stomach acid, shriveling considerably when she retracted and refused to make eye contact. He didn’t understand what would warrant such a reaction. She was always so honest with him and he believed that if she didn’t feel the same, she could have just told him. Any reaction would have been better than none. That was what hurt the most.

    Harry’s brain didn’t quiet for the rest of the night.

    He laid in a bed with only his sorrow and apprehension to accompany him–they tossed and turned like vexatious bodies working to eat away at any chance of rest that taunted him. His phone sat on his chest as he gazed up at the blank ceiling, ringing, and ringing.

    It was y/n.

    She had been calling him for hours on end but he didn’t have it in him to pick up. He almost caved on multiple occasions because he worried that something bad had happened to her but he let that erratic thought slip away–knowing it was a nagging falsity–in favor of sulking.

    It wasn’t till three in the morning–when he had plodded through all of the questions and disappointment scratching at his brain–at least ten times, that Harry rolled over onto his side. His cheek was tempered by the tears that had saturated his pillowcase as he reached blindly toward his lamp and twisted it on. Warm light flooded the room and through bloodshot eyes, he noticed his keys reflecting on the bedside table in a pile of flung silver.

    Seeing them sitting there prompted him to remember that he had yet to unload the car. And though he didn’t care much about leaving it till morning, something curious stirred in his stomach when he recollected what accompanied the picnic items in the boot. y/n’s gift.

    The book.

    Still upset with her stinging response that afternoon, Harry’s interest outweighed his devastation for just a moment. Ever the curious creature he was, he needed to see what had her so frazzled before his attempted declaration. She was very nervous when presenting him with the little bound book. And y/n wasn’t often timid, especially in his presence, so, Harry just had to see what had her coiled tight and tripping over her words, what prompted her to decline that he opened it in front of her.

    As heartbroken as he felt, he loved y/n. Of course, he loved her, and that made him all the more troubled by her actions.

    Harry all but ran to the car, popping open the trunk and retrieving the gift, before he raced back inside and out of the cold of the night.

    Closing his bedroom door with haste, he sat back down on the bed, running his thumbs across the paper, twiddling with the perfectly tied red ribbon, before flipping the book to its back and peeling up the taped seams with drawn brows.

    Stripping the book bare of paper, Harry flipped it back to the front to find something that made his chest smolder hot, stomach tighten, and breath hitch subtly.

    Before his eyes was a tattered journal. Not a true novel, but something homemade and well-loved with a bendable give to it and weathering to the cover and binding. It wasn’t large, just a bit bigger than his palm, with a light brown, sandy cover.

    He blinked quickly, face washing with uncertainty and interest all at once, as his lips rolled between his teeth and he quietly flicked open the journal to find the opening page littered with words; 'a prelude' it read.

    Scrawled on the top line was his name, 'harry–', in y/n’s unmistakable penmanship. The left margin was full of mindless doodles and whirls like her pen was vocalizing her contemplation before she found the proper words.

    Harry could picture her sitting at her vanity, legs tucked at her chest and brows pulled as she thought over her message.

    The opener was a jumble of her thoughts, a clarification as to what he would find as he continued to flip pages. She expressed that she 'left the page blank till the journal was full' because she didn’t know what she was truly doing with the book till it was used and complete, at one point in time, it was simply a journal of her’s, like any other, she was unaware that by the time the pages were taken that every one would have a recurring theme... 'that theme is you, sweet boy.'

    y/n recounted that she had written sporadically since the first day he truly spoke to her. Initially, it was reflective, some type of dairy, but as the days dragged on she found that the writing all revolved around Harry.

    ‘things became clearer as time went on and i began to become so immersed in all things you that it felt painful to be anywhere but beside you. so, i hope that whatever you find in here (which is a mess of the thoughts that just wouldn’t get out of my head) is comforting. i hope it makes you feel all sunny and warm like it makes me feel when i reread the entries.’

    Harry was beyond charmed and endeared by what he found. Though that afternoon was not forgotten, it made sense to him why she seemed so flustered, even prior to his confession.

    For y/n, Harry knew that letting another read the unfiltered words that bled from her pen was difficult. From time to time she’d share a line or two of what she privately printed but it was seldom, often broad, and only after Harry begged her for a little peek of what he would call her “mind vomit” for hours that she’d cave with a grimace and a sarcastic, “how romantic.”

    So this... this was big. And it made Harry feel grateful and quite hurried to see what she expressed.

    For an hour, he sat on his bed’s edge with tears in his eyes as he overturned page after page of haphazardly poetic revelations hidden between chunks of inky memory.

    Her sentiments soaked each page like pungently rich perfume. The top corner of one had an accidental smear of raspberry lipstick, a few held words slightly soiled with old tear stains, heavy insights were expressed in black ink and a glittery pen expressed vivid predilections. Some sheets were dense with scratched terms like her thoughts were wild and foggy when she wrote, a few were supremely simplistic, others took him long moments to analyze. It was perfectly complex and perfectly uncomplicated.

    Perfectly y/n.

    Several phrases were so compelling that his breath caught and he knew that they would live tattooed in his mind for eternity.

    ‘trust terrifies me, it always has. but you make me long to dive into security headfirst. you’re the only person i’ve ever known to make the word in itself feel real. whole and complete. i finally trust its meaning and i never thought that day would come.’

    ‘wasting time with you has been the greatest joy of my little life.’

    ‘something real has happened, hasn’t it? today feels like one of those significant moments where you’ve been existing in such close proximity to something, so lost in your own reverie, that you don’t realize how considerable its size is till you pull away to reflect for a moment.’

    ‘sometimes when i sleep alone i fumble for your hand in the dark.’

    ‘i promise that no matter what the future holds, no matter where time takes us, we will always be, in some way, fastened to this small town and the memories it holds... to on another by a natural force. i am certain that i will always be yours. And you, my darling, will always be mine.’

    It wasn’t till the closing page, when Harry’s cheeks had become stained rosy and dewy with emotion, that he felt his breathing catch in his throat.

    He thought his eyes were betraying him and he felt as though he was entering a trance of phantasmagoria. The final excerpt of the book was all telling...

    The vulnerability on every page was substantial, but this... this was a novel level. One he didn’t see coming but one he perhaps should have. He felt as though he should have put the pieces together. He should have known his girl well enough to know the intent behind her dismissal.


    Written on the final sheet of paper was a confession. One of fear. One that most would find quite out of character for the bubbly y/n that they knew from around town. The outgoing girl that spilled her adoration to anybody that she saw riddled with gloom, just to brighten their day. But Harry knew her. She was his person and he knew that intimacy and truly opening up to another made her nervous. He made her nervous because she felt deeply for him. She trusted him and it took a lot for her to bestow that sort of gift upon another. The viscid cavities of true devotion were new and nerve-racking to her, and though Harry was exploring this fresh step as well, we all process things differently and y/n’s method of expression was written.

    She couldn’t listen to his declaration of love, for her own fear of being unable to make such a confession face to face for the first time overwhelmed her. She chose to leave and let him momentarily simmer in his worry and the possibility of it being a mistake rather than letting him finish to be left brokenhearted by her incapability to express her feelings for the first time while looking him in the eyes.

    y/n loved him.

    She told him, but she told him in her own way.

    He knew that she wished the pain of that afternoon was avoidable, he knew that her anxiety was sitting nasty and tangled in her belly, he knew that she was frantically calling him all night to fix things.

    He knew.

    ‘harry. sometimes i find it troublesome to express my emotions directly. it seems improper for a loud person like myself. i know, and i know that you know it too. but this felt too intruding to keep within me for any longer. and though i resent myself for waiting too long and i resent myself for not waiting long enough (because the prospect of unrequited feelings hurts me) i know that i’d resent myself much more if i never told you how i feel. so, i’m sorry if this is too much or not adequate, i don’t know (my tummy is truly a mess right now) but i love you... i love you so much that it’s dizzying. and maybe i’m naive but, harry, i don’t think i’ll ever love anybody the way that i love you. the love i feel for you is effortless and it’s piercing all at once. it’s powdery, and cool to the touch yet hot and flaming. it’s simple but it’s so, so intoxicatingly difficult. you are everything to me, the love i feel for you is everything to me and i’m so fucking scared to death of losing it. i’m sorry that i didn’t have it in me to verbalize it to your face. i’m sorry if this isn’t what you were looking for in me but i thought you should know-’

    The stream of a light through his bedroom window broke Harry from his reading stupor. His jaw was slack and his head was swimming warm when his gaze flicked to the sharp glow penetrating his curtains.

    He rose quickly, book shut tight in his shaky grip while he squinted due to the illumination. Pulling his curtain back, a familiar pair of headlights came into view, the light quickly ceased and Harry attempted to recuperate as the reality of the moment set in.

    y/n... It was y/n’s car.

    She had just pulled into his driveway in the middle of the night and Harry was still gobsmacked by the profound revelation of her journal, particularly its closing words.

    Without much consideration, he ran from his bedroom again, as noiselessly as he could with a soupy mind and a buzzing body, before unlocking the door and clearing the still front lawn in record time. Just as y/n’s dark car came into view, he saw her exiting frantically with teary eyes. She looked guilty and troubled as ever and when she saw him, comfort clearly swamped her being but the guilt certainly did not subside.

    She rushed to him, falling into his chest and wrapping her bare, trembling arms around him. Harry could feel her muffled sobs and quickly engulfed her in the security that he knew she only unearthed in his hold.

    Before long, y/n was a sorry mess of apologies, “Harry, fuck. I-I was so worried. I’m so glad you’re okay. I’m so- I’m so sorry, b-baby, I’m so sorry... I-I didn’t mean to hurt your heart. I-I know I did... and I didn’t mean to, I promise. You’re so sweet and I k-know what you were gon-”

    “Shh, s’okay... s’okay,” Harry’s hold grew tighter, adjusting his head to press a kiss to her scalp, “I know y’didn’t, angel. I know.” He rocked them back and forth and y/n’s sobs lessened somewhat.

    She shot her eyes up to Harry with a face etched unsettled, really looking at him for the first time since the discovery of their shared feelings, something she was oblivious to.

    “W-what? Why aren’t you mad at me? I-I’m mad at me, Harry.”

    He drew back from her slightly, pulling his arm from behind her and revealing the little book. He looked down at the bruised cover with his bottom lip bitten, studying it and all its richness through wet eyes, before looking back to y/n who had believed he’d left it to rightfully rot in the car.

    In that instant she was bashful... he was bashful. They were two inexperienced teenagers sinking in a sea of something so much stronger than the two of them. So much more potent than comprehendible at such a young age. They were entirely aware that they were fully immersed and didn’t know how to handle such feelings. They knew and though it overwhelmed them, they reveled in the extraordinary rarity of their love.

    He knew and she knew.

    And at that moment, on an empty suburban road with nothing but the dim stream of the streetlight to illuminate their skin in the dead of night and their concurrent hearts humming, they sincerely confessed the strains of their souls for the very first time; something designed by a ventured trembling admission and a tattered brown journal.

    “I love you so fucking much, y/n.”

    “I love you a million times more.”

    ...Harry regards y/n as the pair gather their things and a rush of anxiety floods his chest. He feels as though he is watching–in slow motion–as malicious fingers reach over to snuff the dwindling flicker of his candle of hope. Hope that he would be able to speak to y/n without making a mockery of himself, without upsetting or startling her.

    It’s a delicate thing and Harry is keenly aware of this. Healing and clemency are gradual and a conversation with y/n, a conversation that he has been dreaming of for years, is something that would take time. It can’t be fleeting. Can’t happen in passing. Because that would corrupt already damaged goods and he can’t bear missing the one chance he may get at apologizing.

    Attempting to patch up what he tore apart all those years ago.

    The figurative virulent fingers seem to change their course, if only just for a moment, as y/n digs into the purse that hangs over her shoulder and draws out a brass compact mirror and a small tube of red lipstick.

    He watches as she flips it open and turns to wash in the effects of the earth’s natural light source. She goes to work painting the color onto her lips as the man stands idly beside her, tapping his thumbs on the screen of his phone with a disregard for her actions.

    Harry thinks she looks like a proper pin-up girl. Timelessly beautiful in her classic attire and gentle tendencies. Perfectly elegant and unmistakably thoughtful with such jurisdiction in every move that she makes. It’s excruciatingly nostalgic to him and to time in general and Harry finds it maddening that this man can stand beside her–while she exists in such perfection–and not dote upon her every move. Not admire her the way he knows she loves but would never admit to. Not tell her how beautiful she looks doing such an ordinary task. Not tucking that pesky strand of hair back behind her ear that he can see–even from so many feet away–is bothering her while she draws on her pretty mouth.

    He feels an unforgiving blend of resentment and admiration fester in his belly as he catches a glimpse, in her tiny mirror, of the cherry paint reflecting off the glass and back into her eyes.

    She carefully regards herself, sticking her pointer finger into her mouth and drawing it back out–in an unintentionally sultry manner–to avoid getting lipstick on her teeth.

    y/n rubs her lips together and clips the mirror shut but all Harry can think about is the way that the red looked, not only on her plush lips but beating in the sheen of her eyes like little hearts...


    “Harry, please. No distractions, baby. Gotta finish this chapter if I wanna get anything close to a decent score on this essay.”

    The end of summer vacation and the commencement of their final year of high school–twisted in oaky branches of emotion–brought a new degree of intimacy into their world. y/n and Harry not only verbally confessed their love but physically showed it.

    They declared their love with clothes shed and rumpled on bedroom floors. Intimate skin displayed, lewd touches delivered, and physical connections made with locked lips dulling the cries of inexperience.

    It was blooming insatiability. Their first heavy lap at the drippy ice cream cone of sensuality. It was smoldering and complex yet an addictive prescription that they let dissolve on their tongues continually.

    Stolen, suggestive glances amid bookshelves in the school library coaxed lunch breaks in their secluded parking spots with foggy windows and handprints on the glass. Weekend rendezvous were tinted crimson with y/n’s panties around her ankles, back pressed against tree bark, and a hot hand up her skirt. At midnight Harry’s fingers were perpetually tucked behind her teeth to stifle her moans, his hair a tugged-at mess.

    Intimacy became yet another way for them to seep into one another’s marrow and soul like a steady itch that you just can’t scratch.

    y/n sat atop her bed with her back against Harry’s chest, skimming the lines of a novel for her upcoming English paper. Though she found the text to be quite interesting, she was distracted by the restless hands of her lover. He was obviously bored out of his mind, however keeping quiet and being fairly good because y/n made him promise that if he came over, he wouldn’t distract her. The matter of her writing being quite pressing while she was a bit behind on her studies.

    The denim shorts on her waist and the exposed band of skin on her tummy were the fixations of his wandering fingertips.

    The tickling on her visible skin was appreciated, it pacified her into a state of comfort while tending to her work and she loved that Harry was attentive and touchy. It truly made her feel wanted and there was nothing, besides the thoughtfulness of his mind and mouth, that she cherished more than the weight of his body.

    However, this innocuous atmosphere shifted when Harry's innocent brushes centered on the shiny, silver button of her shorts. He began toying with the clasp and though it may have seemed harmless and casual, y/n knew him better than that. She knew her wild boy and she knew his intentions. She could read him clear as day but the problem was that she couldn’t always combat him so easily.

    He made her feel like putty.

    He could stir a situation from sugary to suggestive faster than the irradiation of a flame by kerosene. She was malleable when he assumed a firm demeanor and he knew that. He knew it better than she did and he loved it.

    So, acknowledging his remarkable art, he noiselessly unhitched the button and his fingers found the zipper.

    Harry knew that teasing drove y/n mad. She was an impatient little thing when tempted with what she wanted and he loved to work her up to the dizzying point of mindlessly begging. A threshold crossed where desire fueled her brain and renounced her daytime inhibitions.

    With the tiny piece of metal between the pads of his fingers, Harry paused, letting the heat of the moment sink thick into y/n’s pores–sizzling like heated treacle–before beginning to play with it just a bit. He pulled it down a touch before intentionally dragging it up with a bit more pressure to apply friction to the dense seam of the fabric and subsequently the space between her thighs.

    y/n attempted to appear unbothered by his teasing, eyes adhered firmly to the page yet rereading the same line over and over again as her gaze became murky, head white-hot with a desire for further touches. She didn’t want to give in so easily after being resolute about her requirements but Harry made it so difficult.

    She was adamant in her efforts of disregard for only a couple of minutes though.

    Harry continued his persuading, slow drifts, wordlessly moving her into a state of receptive goo, and she quickly felt so bothered that she stirred in her spot, just a bit. Her bent knees knocked together, one sliding down the inner crest of her opposite thigh before she shifted back, thinking it would go unrecognized as a sign of caving to his wordless call.

    She was mistaken.

    With her movement, Harry’s fingers came to a standstill in recognition. He ran them up and splayed his palms, wide against her hips. The withdrawal from the spot that taunted filling her with what she wanted, provoked y/n to let out a barely audible whimper of defeat, dropping her book to the bed with a borderline petulant huff.

    She foiled.

    Her resistance and set need to work were ceased and all she wanted was Harry. She craved the touches and kisses that only came with him being able to truly love up on her.

    “What’s the matter, baby?” Harry questioned with a pleased upturn of his mouth. Smug and ruthless as ever, he left his palms to sit atop the jean material, “Need t’finish your book, Sweet thing. C’mon...”

    y/n exhaled with a sullen puff of breath, face drawing to an unimpressed–but equally enraptured–moue, she rolled her head back against his chest to look up at him, “Harry...” She grumbled, and he knew he had her. Mouth red and wet with cherry lip gloss, the tint heightened by her biting of the skin to check her stifled want. Eyes a bit glazed and dilated with frustration and desire. Cheeks warm and flushed.

    “Hmm?” He met her sights, lifting a vain brow, “If y’want sum’ from me, that’s not my name n’we both know it, don’t we?”

    y/n rolled her eyes at his tone to try and hide the evidence of the germinating, coiling ribbon in her lower abdomen.

    Harry sent her an unimpressed tilt of his head causing a pretty twist of hair to fall to his forehead, cascading slackly and charming y/n to further explore his profile. The lock was just kissing his pulled brows and light, vitreous eyes were tracing her face, getting caught on the draw of her own mouth.

    Hazily, y/n wiggled her hips a bit, pushing up against the flat of his palms, wordlessly inviting him to touch more while sending him the sweetest look she could muster to further tempt his antics, “Please, Daddy?”

    A wicked and dangerously handsome smile found residence on his face, inviting cute dimple indents that y/n was sure she would dwell in if given the chance, “There’s my Sweet girl...” He kneaded into the skin of her upper thighs and her heart sailed gently with his praise, “You need my help with sum’?”

    Eagerly, y/n gave another squirm of her hips, beaming up at him with a nod, “Mhm... touch, please.”

    Harry matched her glow with a lopsided smile and leaned down, their noses grazed as y/n stuttered a little gasp at the change in proximity. With eyes fluttering shut concurrently, Harry delivered multiple pecks to her mouth, pulling back to hover and mingle their breath for a moment till he deepened the sentiment. His hands, once again, pressed down on the denim, one sliding back over her bound core to roll upward and apply pressure as he exhaled strenuously through his nose.

    The croons that plodded up her throat and out from behind her teeth were stifled by the cushion of Harry’s plush lips and were absorbed and sent sinking down into his stomach with a fizzle.

    As moments circled by with Harry teasing her resolution, the blood in her veins ran hot as her whole body was glazed with sharp yearning. He touched her skin and painted her mouth with his own, urgently nipping the flesh and soothing the ache with his tongue.

    Just when y/n thought she’d combust if he kept on taunting her without substantial action, Harry slid his right hand into the heat of her shorts, the width of his palm cupped her entirety and his left hand slid down as well to restrict her stirring thigh and simultaneously tickle his calloused fingertips up the inside of the skin.

    Brushing over the stained cotton of her panties, Harry pulled back just a bit from her mouth, licking his lips as glassy eyes ran over her face to take in the little parting of her lips in a pant and the furrow of her brows.

    “Fuck... m’little girl’s all wet, huh?” He continued to toy with her over the fabric, “Soaked right through... I do this t’you?”

    y/n let out a whimper in embarrassment, tucking her face into the heat of his neck to momentarily escape his overwhelming eye contact and let the fever of her cheeks subside.

    He was utterly vulgar.

    Harry chuckled at her bashful tendencies, shaking his head and continuing to gently circle his fingers over the sodden material, “C’mon, show Daddy that pretty face or I won’t give you what y’want...”

    Still feeling shy, y/n contemplated staying tucked, cuddly and secure, against his throat but recognized promptly that the perks of complying were much greater. So, pressing a candied peck to his neck, and leaving a fuzzy red mark on the skin, y/n recuperated and turned her face to meet his eyes again.

    “Mm, there she is.”

    Harry took that triumph and pulled his hand from her shorts–y/n’s quick plea of objection being stifled by his shushing and a prompt kiss–before he pulled the denim off of her soft legs and tossed it to the floor.

    Left in solely panties and a white tank top, Harry felt that y/n was a fantasy. The mere sight of her–pressed snugly against his body like drippy caramel; all soft skin and sugary whines–made his abdomen stir. The response fluttering through his body like deep reverberation and being particularly sharp in his groin as he hardened considerably against her lower back.

    The cloth screening the space between her thighs was a pale, blushy pink, the wet spot dwelling in the center making Harry keen to rip the material from her skin and explore the space.

    He ran his hands along the exposed slip of her tummy and squeezed at her hip bones while y/n became increasingly impatient.

    Her skin felt needy and covetous for his touch, though he was constantly crowding her space with his being in the most thoughtful way conceivable. She momentarily chalked up the response to the delicate state he managed to put her in. She just needed more and Harry was taking his sweet time teasing her.

    “Please...” She whined, “Need- I need more.”

    “Is that right?” His voice dripped in mockery. Condescending. So condescending... so perfectly patronizing it made y/n crazy. “Such a busy girl...” he tutted and his face morphed reflective, the bristles of an abstract brush washing the skin, “thought y’had no time for distractions today?” The thump of her heart accelerated, “Now you’re beggin’ like a lil mess for me, aren’t you?”

    y/n had to fight every natural instinct in her body that drove her to want to bite back. Though she relished in Harry’s authoritative persona and it was incredibly easy for her to succumb to it and him, she also loved to challenge him from time to time. “Act like a brat and get treated like one” He’d say. It was the perfect game of cat and mouse, ridiculing and bating one another till they both got what they wanted in the end...

    Harry putting her in her place and y/n giving into the stern behavior because the build-up often made the relief so much more gratifying.

    But at that instant, she didn’t have it in her to test him. She felt too far gone, too tired from the week’s antics to roll her eyes and snap back. So, she packed the inkling of a desire down and used her other form of influence over him, one that often subdued him even quicker.

    Complete obedience.

    “Mhm, m’sorry...” y/n softened her eyes like smooth suede or powdery snow and rolled her tongue against her lips, “Need you so bad, only you... can I have you, please?”

    Harry crumbled like a warm, melty dessert, “Mm, look at that...” He hooked his fingers beneath the material on her hips, “Such a good fuckin’ girl today. Daddy’ll help you, baby.” Slowly, he pulled her panties away from her skin–reveling in the way that a sticky string of her arousal connected to the cloth, like drool, and she helped him to pull them off completely. The slick skin of her core and inner thighs was immediately on full display and Harry audibly groaned. y/n attempted to seal her legs in self-preservation only to have Harry tut at her in a gravely warning, hands covering her knees and peeling her apart, “Stop that, Sweet girl.”

    “It’s embarrassing...” She breathed with her eyes pinched together, chin tucked against her heaving chest.

    Harry shook his head and brought two fingers to y/n’s mouth–patting at her lips and requesting entry–she dutifully opened and he slipped them inside to the knuckle.

    Sucking readily, she got them glossy and wet and with his other hand, Harry lightly tugged on her roots till she looked up at him, mouth full, with a stifled gasp.

    Locking eyes, Harry replied, “So cute... you’re not embarrassing, my love. Promise you.”

    He slipped his fingers from between her teeth and she inhaled a misty pant while he traced her bottom lip. Her eyes fluttered shut, debates plummeting, as he promptly trailed the saturated fingers between her legs, sliding the blunt peaks up and down while deliberately evading her swollen clit that begged for his attention.

    Instinctually, when Harry finally paid mind to the starved apex, y/n’s own hand slid down to grab at his taut forearm as some method of mooring, a mode of stability.

    “Oh- fuck, ”

    Being tender with the care he gave, the gentle tip of his middle finger teased over the puffy point until y/n began to whine for more, and his actions became more substantial. When her hips twitched, the loops and shapes of his fingers got firmer, a bit tighter, and quicker.

    She was so worked up that the minimal movement and the heady presence of Harry was enough to elevate her up so high that she was teetering at the edge in mere minutes, “Can I- can I come?”

    Harry slid his fingers from the aching cluster of nerves and y/n let out a groan in objection, “Mm, not yet... need t’stretch you a lil, wanna fuck you after you come,” she literally whimpered at his word, nodding instantly and Harry smiled, “mhm... think y’deserve it. Been so good f’me.”

    His fingers found her entrance, spreading the sticky humidity down and circling at the rim of her hole for a moment before he sank two inside of her, entering and feeling the tight hold of her silken walls.

    Delicately attaining a constant pace, he stroked and curled his fingers till he unearthed the tender spot inside of her that made her toes curl and her breath hitch. The facade of his rings contrasted the heat of her center and the faint touch was mind-numbing. The side of his thumb found her clit once again and after a couple of flashes of cloudy movement, y/n’s thighs began to tremble slightly, attempting to hold back her release till given permission, “Don’t stop... please, don’t stop, I- fuck, need to come... need it, please?”

    With the steadfast attention on all of the spots that demanded it, y/n’s belly and mind became a mess of need. The notion of her orgasm was coating every limb like dull television static, rendering her body useless while sputtering up like the commencement of firecrackers in her abdomen, scintillating and smoking with a whir, “Mhm, such a sweet thing... y’can let go, baby. C’mon... come for Daddy.”

    With his approval, her muscles wrung taut as a bow, and her cunt spasmed as she let go. All she could hear was her blood rushing in ample tides–heavy and syrupy in her eardrums–as her thighs threatened to clamp shut, body becoming slushy and soft in Harry’s hold as his fingers remained constant, helping her to ride out the experience. Only slackening when she properly adhered to the paradise of her own mind.

    The nectarous state of “la petite mort.”

    Buzzing osseins, a gooey intellect, and a thrumming pith.

    Harry drew his fingers from her opening, giving the sensitive area a pat that made her twitch and mewl, before bringing the sodden fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean.

    y/n watched breathlessly, transfixed by his perfect filth, cotton candy spun lips of perfection doused in the tiniest trace of her libido.

    Ridding his mouth, Harry leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to her lips, transferring the earthy tang of her release to sit plentiful on her own tongue when he lewdly caressed the muscle.

    Pulling back with a smack, Harry murmured, “So pretty when y’come for me. Will never get over that...” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “Ready for Daddy to fuck you?.. Hm? Wanna be my plaything for a lil?”

    Bashfully, y/n pressed her eyes shut, cheeks flushing significantly, as she turned her pliable body in his hold with a nod till she was straddling his covered center.

    A notable bump came in contact with her clit and the still-tender skin caused her to flinch a bit, letting out a little moan at the feeling.

    Harry used the opportunity to take in the state of her face.

    The red lip stain on her mouth was a bit splotchy, having lightly smeared away onto his own. She was quite dewy-eyed and with each languid blink, her long lashes fanned against the surface of her under eyes. Her hairline was coated in the lightest layer of perspiration and each strand was mussed and seasoned. She was the prettiest disarray of mawkish affection he’d ever seen and he loved to care for her.

    Loved to make her look so serene.

    Fixing his hands at her hips, Harry pushed her down a bit till her hovering center touched the lump in his jeans again. He wanted to hear her whine and he longed for the friction concerned.

    With his movement, y/n’s hands fell to his shoulders to stabilize herself and she indeed let out a coo at the feeling. Grinding down a bit to make Harry’s eager hips jut up against her, she pressed her mouth to his and inhaled his own whine of satisfaction. She kept a steady cadence, the rigid bump and straining material caused an unexpected jolt of electricity to shoot through her stomach.

    Harry pulled back with a groan, washing his slick lips with his tongue and finding the bottom of her shirt with impatient fingers, “Let’s get this teeny top off, hmm?” y/n nodded and he promptly slid the cloth material off of her body as she held her arms above her head for him. The cool air led the exposed peaks of her nipples to stiffen and her hair to waterfall back down. Harry tossed the wad of fabric to the floor and his hands quickly found her chest with a grunt and a puff of air through his nose, “So beautiful.” He kneaded at the flesh, fingers toying with the buds and y/n uncontrollably arched her back with a weak moan.

    Being completely stripped before a fully clothed Harry did not satisfy her and y/n was quick to seal her mouth back with his own, tugging at his shirt in a silent request for him to take it off.

    When Harry did not comply immediately she huffed like a bad-tempered child, murmuring against his mouth, “Want it off...”

    Harry pulled away, tugging at her tits once more before hoisting her up and flipping her back onto the comforter, earning him a squeak and a giggle.

    All bothered in a heap of fluffy, white linens, y/n was his wet dream. A panting body; slick, wet, and tight in all the right places with miles of skin, soft to the touch, and pebbled in goosebumps.

    Heaven. Pure, unadulterated nirvana.

    “How ‘bout you ask nicely f’me?” He hovered above her mouth, “Wanna hear you say ‘please, Daddy'...”

    Her chest heaved, “Please, Daddy," and she batted her lashes, "want it all off... wanna see you. Want it inside.”

    Pure eyes and a nibbled cherry mouth, grabby hands reaching for the hem of his tee-shirt.

    Harry couldn’t say no to that... to that level of need.

    “Kay... okay, only cause you beg so pretty.”

    Harry sat up and reached for the end of his shirt, keeping the edge fastened between his teeth just to tease her, as his knees dug into the mattress between her spread thighs. He had to actively keep his gaze from wandering to the sticky mess of her center in order to maintain any semblance of composure.

    Casually, he slid the leather of his belt from the buckle, looking down with furrowed brows and dropping his hold when both ends hung loosely from either side of his hips, he slid his shirt over his head and looked down at his hips with a mutter of, “Why don’t you get the rest off for me...”

    Instantly, y/n’s hands shot to his aid. Shaky fingers attempted to pop the button of his jeans smoothly and Harry let out a low, warm chuckle at her struggle, “All shaky f’me, baby?” Faultlessly arrogant and mind-numbingly excellent, y/n let out a huff, “Shh, Daddy’s got it.”

    His fingers concealed her own, moving them away, and easily opening the button to undo the zipper. The fabric of his jeans was pushed off his body quickly and he toyed with the waistband of his briefs just a bit, letting y/n soak in the display of the concealed swell beneath the fabric. He was achingly hard, a small patch of wetness tainted the point where his tip strained against the fabric.

    Familiar with her antsy tendencies, Harry could tell that y/n was beyond eager for him, and though he loved a bit of harmless torment, she had been so painstakingly compliant that afternoon that he felt indebted to her in a sense. He was too growing increasingly raw and wasn’t sure how much longer he could go without sliding himself inside of her and indulging in her quivers and little mewls.

    Thus, he padded both thumbs beneath the material and shifted it off of his body. His cock dipped out, appearing hard and exceedingly ready; so big and full. The head was swollen and slick, precum weeping from the slit. He spit in his palm and slid his hand over himself, stroking the mess away and making y/n squirm impatiently.

    He leaned his body down, hovering over her with one forearm tucked into the fluff of the pillow next to her head, other hand still playing with himself, so near to where y/n needed him most, “God m’so ready for you. Please, plea-”

    “Shh, shh... I know, Sweetness, I know... Jus’ lay there ‘nd take it, kay? Daddy’s takin’ care of it... gonna take care of you.”

    y/n agreed with a quick nod and a low, ‘mhm’ before Harry sealed their lips together once again and traced the head of his cock up and down her slit to tease them both with what was to come before he ran it down to her entrance, toying with the hole and outlining its shape.

    Slowly, he sunk in, a blissful groan leaving his lips and tickling her own once the tip was tucked snug inside of her. He removed his hand from around himself as it joined the other in supporting him against the cushion. y/n exhaled a barely audible, “Fuck,” that Harry breathed in as he shifted his arm down once again to run over the skin of her side and lul her malleable as she adjusted to his size.

    Not until the stiffness of her body subsided and her breathing began to steady, did Harry continue slipping inside of her.

    It burned as she stretched around him but she delighted in the small ache knowing that it would lead to satisfaction. She could feel how heavy and swollen he was, every vein along his skin rubbed against her walls and tantalized her with fever. He throbbed inside of her as she pulsated and hugged at him to accommodate.

    Harry picked up a gradual pace as her small murmurs of unease steadily turned to the whines that he so loved to earn, “That feel good, baby?”

    The snap of his hips and the connection of their skin was drowned out by y/n’s response, an oozing bottle of sweet nectar or a smear of strawberry jam, “Yes- yes... feels so good, Daddy. You feel so good. I- I love you.”

    Harry’s heart stuttered in his chest and his cock twitched inside of her.

    She was everything good in the world. Everything pure and genuine. A soft, graceful dryad with a sweet tongue and a glowing, red heart far too big for her little chest, “Mm, I love you so fuckin’ much, Sweet girl... so fuckin’ much.”

    Harry slipped his hand from the side of her body, running it against her cheek to cradle her face and slide his thumb into her mouth. She sucked, humming around his finger with glossy doe-eyes fluttering shut.

    Gliding the pad from her mouth, Harry drew a wet path down her chest. Thumbing at each of her nipples with care and making his way down the valley of her breasts to tickle her tummy before landing between her thighs once again. He found her swollen clit and rubbed languidly, causing y/n to tremble and squeeze on him tighter, “Shit, doin’ so good, angel. Want you t’come again for me” His pace quickened, puffs of air slightly uneven, “Can you do that? All over me, yeah?”

    “Yes, yes, yes...” She reached her hands up, running her fingers through his hair, causing his eyes to blink shut softly, and his breath to hitch. The feathery waves were drawn back as she slotted her fingers through the thick tresses, one wayward curl bowing back down and lapping against his damp forehead in a twist.

    She cried lightly and pulled at the strands just the way he liked, causing his brows to crease and his mouth to fall open, a sinful moan escaping his lips.

    “Fuck, baby,” he messily painted his mouth against hers, “made jus’ f’me weren’t you?” He murmured in a voice deep and dark as dusk, taking her bottom lip between his teeth and pulling at it just enough to sting, “Only me, yeah?”

    His drives became sloppy and less coordinated, thumb picking up speed against the slick, agitation of her cunt as she whispered, “Just for you... always you.”

    Another deep groan of desire, “Mhm, wanna come inside, baby...” Harry slid his hand to her lower belly, applying light pressure, “y’feel me in your tummy?” y/n nodded hazily, whining at his words and pulling him down by his hair for a slushy, little kiss, “Yeah?” Harry pulled back with a slippery smack of their lips and smiled a drowsy, closed-lip, smile at her, “Gonna fill y’up n’make a mess... need you t’come first though.”

    His words, the relentless stress on her clit, and the feeling of him hitting the perfect spot inside of her over and over was enough to send her to the brink. She was wading at the edge for long moments and his encouragement was enough force to tip her right over. Spilling all over the casing like a mighty river rapid. A heavy flush swarmed her body and she felt tingly and light as her mouth seeped profanities and her limbs trembled, “oh- m’coming, Daddy... f-fuck.”

    Liquescent flame rushed in her eardrums, everything was so saturated in Harry, and the sound of him inside of her was so lewd and perfect.

    Harry’s face dipped to the heat of her throat, pressing light kisses and mumbling praises as he fucked her through her release. The tight clutch of her walls and the strong pulsation were enough for him to follow right behind her with a heavy moan and jelly limbs.

    Riding out their highs together, Harry’s body slumped slack against y/n after slipping from inside of her. A blend of heavy flutters and heaving chests, the pair laid glued to one another with tacky, sweaty skin. y/n reveled in the pressure of Harry against her; large and warm and soft all over her flesh. She could feel his cum inside of her–kept bounded by his position–and his heartbeat thumping against her sternum in natural, light beats and it made her content.

    Fully appeased.

    After lengthy breaths of comfortable, sleepy silence, through a yawn, Harry muttered out an adorable, “Mm, that was nice.”

    Rolling his face over to peer at y/n, she met him in his drowsy regard and their noses touched as they gazed at one another.

    She blinked owlishly at him, one brow lifting as she slid her hand up and brushed the damp curls off of his forehead with a smile and a small giggle, “You, my love, are an absolute enigma... swear it,” Harry’s brows furrowed face twisting up in sluggish confusion, “one minute you’re all big and bad and ‘hey, let’s fuck the legs off y/n’ and the next you’re the cutest button...” She scrunched up her nose and beamed at him, “Like a sleepy little kitten, you are. Love you to death, Sweet boy.” She grazed their noses in a little act of affection and lent forward to press a tender peck to his mouth.

    He pouted his lips and crinkled his nose, “Hey,” his face twisted in drowsy, mock offense, “mm... big and bad are still here, you’re lookin’ right at ‘em... I’m scary as fuck,” he blinked his eyes shut, another yawn pouring from behind his teeth, “... ’nd I love you too, so much... m’sleepy though, baby. Wanna nap?”

    y/n's heart felt full.

    The juxtaposition of the moment prior–all hot and sweaty with skin tainted in red kisses and instability–and that of the current were so perfectly representative of her lover that she couldn't help but smile.

    Harry; forever a sublime mix of abundant lust and melodious care.

    y/n giggled quietly and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead, then the tip of his nose, before settling back in, under the heat of his body, “Mhm... my big scary boy,” she whispered, “sweet dreams, lovie.”

    ...Harry feels a touch distasteful for letting such intimate memories pass through his brain even for a fleeting moment.

    It’s surely wrong when the two are so far from that former closeness. He internally reprimands himself but similarly regards the fact that it’s not always applicable to do so when our subconscious minds often conjure up past memories with zero care to the suitability of such thoughts.

    He embarrassingly clings to similar small shreds of y/n frequently. It doesn’t consume his world to a point of compulsion, however, her being is quite literally his companion paradigm and he doesn’t see this changing anytime soon. It’s wholly unsound but entirely impending; his natural inclination.

    Harry is stumped. Should he attempt, one final time, to speak with her before she goes? Or should he sit idly and hope to not wreck her day with his presence?

    It feels selfish, so rude he would have to be to approach her and make her relive all of the pain he put her through. y/n has clearly moved on and though it pains him, it makes sense. He hadn’t expected her to stew in the misery of his absence for life. No, he actually wanted her to live fully. Experience profound, honest love and develop into the strong woman he knew she was becoming.

    Harry merely never expected to see this completion. Witness, in real-time, as the soft petals of her innermost flower, present themselves. Milky pink, and lovely, in color with a whimsical design to them. Rosy and light with vulnerability yet unrestricted with the fullness of adulthood. It’s just as enchanting as it is unbearable and Harry is disappointed by his own reaction.

    The crescendo of a familiar giggle catches his attention and makes his heart stutter in his chest. Harry tilts his head back upright and opens his–momentarily shut–eyes, blinking promptly in order to regain his composure and discern the substance of the situation.

    He watches as y/n and the unknown man walk in his direction, hand in hand.

    His heart plummets a bit as his preconceived notion is confirmed by their proximity. He knew, solely by her tender gaze, that the man was a lover but he was looking to live in a world of naivety. The circumstance authenticates his assumption though, and he feels unjustly heartbroken.

    Just as Harry thinks that she’ll be gone long before he can compose himself enough to catch her attention, he sees a dainty butterfly pass right by her eyes.

    He watches, transfixed, as y/n sucks in a small gasp, followed by a breathy exhale that pours from her softened mouth like a stream of a million specks of glitter being pushed from behind perfect teeth. A cute smile stretches her face and it’s nearly juvenile how elated the sight makes her. It’s like the vivid wings of the butterfly brushed her nose and tickled her pink.

    Her bottom lip is between her teeth and she squeezes the hand of her partner, eyes fiercely scanning the air to keep track of the lovely creature. She tugs at his hand and simultaneously, both sets of eyes follow the butterfly as it flutters with the breeze. Balletic; like smooth velvet and polished ripples.

    And like some twisted form of fate, the insect swirls around y/n’s head, making her giggle and holding her attention, right before it dives deeply and drifts across the court to float right before the tip of Harry’s nose.

    He looks down the bridge and his lips tug upward at the natural display.

    Chuckling, he lifts his eyes and watches as the brilliant being flies away from him–a tiny speck of vitality and faith.

    However, his giggles cease instantly when, like a downpour of turmoil, that former spirit is lost. The shimmer of the butterfly's presence and the puzzling fate it strung along while dancing with both y/n and Harry flees. It's gone and so is the magic of the moment because reality is much less enchanting.

    Sure, it was mystifying destiny–a dainty being bridging the gap of disconnection–but it brought forth a moment far from sunny, a moment Harry had been dreading.

    Shifting his gaze, he locks eyes with y/n.

    Suddenly, the resounding, percussive noises of the outdoor patio wane, till nothing but a melancholy susurrous whisper is left in the air. Customer chatter, the clanking of silverware on plates, the rustle of trees, the barking of dogs, the honk of a horn; quieted. It’s like everything filling that once surrounded them, dissipates. All racket replaced by a surge of dull static and the heavy beats of high-strung hearts that twist in the air and coil right into Harry’s eardrums.

    He can feel perspiration turn the palms of his hands slippery with nerve as a similar sweat breaks out across his forehead and chest. He languidly smooths his palms against his jeans to ground himself, thinking he may be fantasizing the whole ordeal.

    He is aware of his own hands rubbing against the denim of his pants but can’t seem to focus on it, it’s a subconscious acknowledgment, a pacifying pressure. The notion of anything other than his direct focus is cloudy; hazy and insignificant.

    There is a heap of excellence in her stare.

    Like neglected jewels when the tide stretches backward, listlessly with a whish. Or thick cream on cracked skin, smelling of flowers and sugar. Sneaking a cookie when you’re young with thievery never unearthed. Deep kisses before bedtime and delicate ones when the sun rises. Gratifying achievement and intoxicating desire.

    Everything sweeps before him like a twister of paranoia; visions scrape the ribs of his subconscious with fleeting futility like one’s recollection during the credits of a film; the feeling of finality... the melancholy. They make him momentarily sick with dread.

    Regardless of the good, Harry is piercingly aware of the bad and his heart hurts. His stomach rolls and twists tight at her troubled gaze. She looks frozen, her demeanor glazed in glacial discomfort and rigid uncertainty.

    For a moment, Harry hopes she will continue on. Perhaps she didn’t recognize him. Maybe she did but she will choose to pretend she didn’t, as to avoid discomfort. It would sting, yes, he would feel as though he was reaching for a spirit. Letting the phantom of his cyclic desire slip through his fingers, disappearing into the sea of bodies that crowd every street corner, never to be seen again. Yet concurrently, he hopes she will. Just walk away and let her own despondency diffuse and blow away with the breeze.

    His call to the deities above goes unanswered and like a torrid, jarring dream he watches as y/n’s lips part, her brows furrow, and her breath hitches–as the word he wished to avoid slips from her mouth.

    It’s airy; dewy and revitalizing but with the simultaneous capacity to desist him...


    #kaleidoscope eyes#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry writing#writing #harry styles fanfiction #fanfic#harry imagine #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #daddy!harry #feedback is appreciated #i love you
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  • ao3feed-bakusquad
    17.06.2021 - 10 minutes ago

    Here's Your Coffee, Asshole

    here’s your coffee, asshole by dynariotz

    For once in his life, Bakugou Katsuki doesn't completely hate his job. He gets to make killer coffee and be a grade-A asshole on company time.

    Unfortunately for him, the guy that just walked into the shop is immune to assholery — and Bakugou's down bad.

    Words: 2655, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

    Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

    Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

    Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

    Categories: M/M

    Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Todoroki Shouto, Kirishima Eijirou, Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta

    Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou

    Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee Shops, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Bakugou Katsuki is a Little Shit, Kirishima Eijirou is a Ray of Sunshine, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Drabble, he was an asshole & he was a himbo, can i make it any more obvious??

    Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31992283

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