#‘Nice weather we’re having today’

[lucent-blade]

Asmuri, Jucio and Pamper Party { Asra x Muriel, Julian x Lucio and Nadia x Portia } scenario where Portia, Julian and Muriel come out of some sort of rooms and Portia has crimson lipstick marks, Julian has shiny golden ones and Muriel has glittery purple ones and they all just stare at each other embarrassed.

[reverie-starlight]

my dad called me out for watching hq AGAIN and he was joking around like “ur not in love with one of these anime characters are you??”

[crowcryptid]

first day in Minneapolis is done. Cool place. Heard many birds, didn’t see that many. I did see an indigo bunting and a pileated woodpecker though.

Also I saw this in a bathroom 🫡

One thing I have noticed though, and I noticed this throughout texas as well, other places are so.. clean? Very little trash on the side of the road and they have people cleaning up the litter. It might seem basic but Miami doesn’t do this and there’s trash all over as a result

[yuukimiyas]

hiii bbys!! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳​ˋ)੭✧ happy thurs!! i woke up in a v good mood & got myself a lil espresso as a treat heehehe ૮꒰ྀི⊃´ ꒳ `⊂ྀི꒱ა i hope you guys have a great day today & always!! 4ever sending you smooches!! ( ˙³˙)~♡

[joelsgreys]

weakness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 5.7k

“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”

You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”

“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”

You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess. 

“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”

“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”

“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.

“But Frank—”

“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise. 

“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite. 

“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”

Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”

Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside. 

“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”

You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look. 

Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity  to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.

You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime. 

Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”

You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude. 

Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”

“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”

Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.

What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?

What’s he going to think?

Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.

“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”

You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”

“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.

“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”

Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”

Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”

“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”

“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”

He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”

“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.

“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”

You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”

He ticks his  index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”

You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”

Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”

For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you. 

Could Frank actually be right? 

Do you actually mean something to Joel?

No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.

“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”

“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”

Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”

“You are his weakness.”

He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut. 

“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.

“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”

“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.

When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”

Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.

“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.

As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”

“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”

Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”

“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”

Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls  might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s  difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.

“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.

Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.

“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch  smells heavenly—Frank knows  it’s  your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart. 

Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.

“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”

You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”

Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly. 

Had he actually meant that?

“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another. 

Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”

Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant. 

Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.

 Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in. 

As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair. 

Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.

About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”

“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum. 

You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”

Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.

A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”

“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”

Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”

“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe. 

“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”

“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.

You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside. 

When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.

“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”

“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”

Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”

You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”

Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”

The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.

“What? But what about you?”

“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”

Bill and Joel being neighbors?

Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.

“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”

“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”

The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.

The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.

“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”

Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”

“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”

Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.

“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”

“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”

“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”

You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking  long since anyone had ever touched him like that. 

Since he’d let anyone touch him like that. 

He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks  into your touch.

Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.

“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”

Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”

You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”

“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”

Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.

He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.

Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.

“Joel…” 

Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.

“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”

Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes  its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.

You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.

Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.

The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain. 

“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.

His face remains just inches from yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”

“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is  at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.

Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”

You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”

He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.

This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage. 

Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.

“Well, well, well.”

Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face. 

“How long have you been standing back there?”

“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”

You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.

So maybe he’d been right after all.

Maybe you were Joel’s weakness. 

But he was yours too.

[babyleostuff]

౨ৎ voicemails lee jihoon leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: babe)

...one: hey babe, i’m just calling to say we landed safely, and we’re on our way to the hotel. i’ll try calling you again when we get there

...two: i feel like an idiot. i think i called you like ten times yesterday after we got to the hotel, but i forgot about the time difference. i really hope i didn’t wake you up

...three: the weather is so nice here. i even went on a walk today

...four: i just saw the photos you sent earlier. i was busy so i couldn’t respond, but i’m so happy you enjoyed your day. you looked lovely by the way

...five: do you think i should cut my hair? it's so long now, i'm not sure if it still looks good on me. no, soonyoung i'm serious. yes, i want to cut my hair. can you just piss off, don't you see i'm busy? anyway, let me know what you think, babe

...six: i’m really sorry i didn’t call you yesterday, we got back from the venue late at night, and i got an idea for a beat, and i just lost the track of time. i’ll make it up to you, promise

...seven: how was your day? did you remember to eat? by the way, if you have the time tomorrow, do you mind going to my studio and check if i left those black headphones you got me for our anniversary there? i can’t find them anywhere. and i also left my hoodie there, so (pause) you can take it if you want

...eight: is there anything you want me to bring back home? don’t worry about the price, just tell me what you want

...nine: make sure to clear your calendar for this saturday evening, i booked a table at the restaurant you have been talking about, so we can go out after i come back

...ten: i love you (pause) and i miss you

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - Hell's Assumptions

A/N – Okay, I think that’s everyone on the tagging list. So, here’s to Chapter 4. Raise a glass.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

MALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

Tag-List: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx@sseleniaa@randomgurl2326@22carolina08@astrxwitch@yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch @reverse-soe

People were staring.

The worst part was, you weren’t sure who they were staring at, you or Lucifer. It could have easily been him since he was the King of Hell, and even those who didn’t immediately recognise him could sense the power he exuded. However, it was just as likely that they were looking at you and wondering who you were, and how you had managed to get their ruler to walk with you, especially since he wasn’t known for going out much.

Fortunately, when people saw Lucifer coming, they moved to the other side of the street, staring, whispering, taking pictures, but keeping a safe distance.

Lucifer was used to this kind of thing. He walked confidently, held a charming smile, and was generally non-plussed by the attention. You, on the other hand, felt awkward.

‘This was my idea,’ You mentally reminded yourself.

You tried to hold onto that thought as you attempted to strike up a conversation.

“So… What’s it like in the Embassy building?” You asked, quickly realising that it was a terrible topic as Lucifer’s smile became a glower.

You shouldn’t have reminded him where he was going. It was obvious he hated Heaven for their treatment of him, yet yearned for it and the life he had lost within its pearly gates where nothing went wrong for anyone.

“Sorry,” You said hurriedly. “I didn’t think- uh, nice weather we’re having?”

Lucifer smiled and shook his head. He couldn’t believe you. Only the night before, you had told him to grow up, with such confidence, and now here you were struggling for words. He bypassed the awkward situation with ease by asking, “Will you be visiting the Hotel today?”

“Oh, uh… Maybe. I would like to see everyone again. Check that Nifty hasn’t set anything on fire. Make sure that everything’s okay, and-”

You had been about to mention Angel Dust. Today was one of his work days. You would like to check that he was okay. You didn’t mention him however, with something like a confidentiality clause stopping you, though you weren’t his doctor, nor was he your patient. You didn’t want to talk about his suffering; he was more than his trauma.

Instead, you said, “I would like to check in, but maybe not today. Besides, you’ll be there tonight, won’t you?”

“Yes. I’d like to deliver the news to Charlie personally, and perhaps coach her on some of Heaven’s stricter rules.”

“Then, I think I’ll stay at the manor. I wouldn’t want to step on your toes. You and Charlie- I think you need to catch up a bit, without any interruptions. She missed you, you know.”

Lucifer ruminated on this for a minute. Whatever your motivations, he was glad that you were giving him and his daughter some space. Granted, the Hotel was large enough to house many conversations in separate areas but by making the offer of keeping your distance, you were giving Lucifer some breathing room; that was good.

Had you not made that offer, Lucifer might have brought up the topic of moving you back into the Hotel to Charlie, but in respecting his boundaries, Lucifer was starting to think that you weren’t so bad… for a Sinner.

“I missed her too.”

“Can I ask,” You said hesitantly, “What kept you away so long? You clearly think the world of her.”

Lucifer sighed, and stopped in the middle of the street, “I-”

He didn’t get to explain his absence.

Instead, he became annoyed as two Sinners, one who looked like a nine-year-old boy’s dream with bazooka arms and rocket-infused shoulders, and the other a winged bear-woman wielding a machine gun burst through the building on the opposite side of the road, waging war upon one another.

“SHIT!” You cursed, seeing the debris that threatened to crush a lone imp who hadn’t reacted quickly enough, his leg trapped under the first brick segment that fell.

Reacting quickly, you threw out your arms. A light green barrier shielded the imp from further harm, but you struggled under the weight of so much wreckage.

“MOXXIE!” A female imp yelled, running to him.

You thought she might struggle to lift the wreckage off him and were about to ask for Lucifer’s help before your barrier would inevitably crumble. Yet, the female imp was stronger than she appeared and she threw it off Moxxie. She then lifted him bridal style, and ran from the danger, shooting you a grateful look from across the street.

You gasped and shuddered as you let your arms fall, your barrier fading from existence.

“You shouldn’t have bothered,” Lucifer said as you straightened up.

“What?” You breathed heavily, recovering from the exertion; one of the weakest Demons in Hell, with your limited abilities.

“It was a nice thing to do, but what’s the point? Look around,” Lucifer threw his arms up dramatically. “Someone built something nice, and now it’s gone, all because two Sinners couldn’t take their petty power struggle somewhere else. Nobody benefits from this.”

You opened your mouth to argue but were interrupted by the same two imps you had just saved, “Hey there, I’m pretty sure my husband is delirious right now, but he wanted to come over here.”

“I’m not delirious, Millie,” Moxxie said pointedly, clinging onto her shoulder to support his weight; his leg was in all likeliness broken, but being an imp of Hell, it would heal quickly enough.

Millie looked at him sympathetically, likely thinking something along the lines of, ‘Baby, we’re the only ones on the same side of the street as His Majesty, but do what you gotta do!’

“I must thank you most humbly for your remarkable rescue in my name, good Lady,” Moxxie exclaimed pompously, probably presuming that since you were accompanied by Lucifer you were of a much higher station than you were. “Without you, I would certainly have perished, so I find it an appropriate time to extend my gratitude.”

“He means thank you,” Millie affectionately translated.

“You’re welcome,” You smiled. Then, with a small flourish of your fingers, Moxxie leg was bandaged and he was provided with a crutch to hold onto. You were no healer, but that would help the bone set correctly.

Moxxie and Millie thanked you both again, presuming that Lucifer had been part of the rescue (and in a way he was, for when the warring Demons saw him, they took their battle elsewhere), then they were gone, one limping down the street on his new crutch, and his wife offering to carry him.

“You’re wrong,” You said, once the pair were out of sight. “They benefitted.”

Lucifer didn’t know what to say about that. They were only imps. Why did you think they mattered? Yet, after watching the loving couple thank you for their rescue, Lucifer wasn’t certain that he trusted his assessment of the situation. Charlie wanted to redeem Sinners, you had just saved the lowest of all Hell’s beings and he…? He needed to reassess how he thought about things.

The two of you didn’t speak after that and Lucifer assumed that you were mad at him until you reached Heaven’s Embassy. Lucifer stared at the building, broken and hopeless, thinking about how he would have to fight for Charlie.

He was about to take the first step towards it when you rested your hand on his shoulder.

He stared at you, surprised.

“Good luck,” You proffered sympathetically. Then you walked away, and Lucifer was left staring after you. So, you weren’t mad at him after all. What a curious person you were.

He looked back to the building before him, the one place in Hell that was perfectly pristine, and unable to be harmed by anyone. After a deep breath, he headed inside.

When Lucifer returned home, he was exhausted. The meeting had been lengthy and derogatory. He had been treated with barely disguised disdain and talked in circles, but finally, Heaven had agreed to allow his daughter passage to Heaven.

It was never an option really. As the ruler of a powerful realm, Lucifer had to be treated respectfully, even if all of Heaven hated him. Yet, just because they had to acquiesce to his request didn’t mean they hadn’t tried to talk him out of it. The only good news was that it had been Sera and a few of her assistants who hosted the meeting, not that ignorant prick Adam; Lucifer hated that guy… though his taste in women had always been spectacular.

Still, it had all been worth it when he got to the hotel and Charlie thanked him and invited him to stay for a while. They had caught up over tea, and he had gotten to know a little bit more about her and her relationship with Vaggie. Lucifer likely would have stayed longer seeing as he’d also been invited to games night, but then that red-headed bastard was there, grinning like a Cheshire Cat, and Lucifer had made his reasons to leave.

Now, all he wanted was to recover in peace.

On his way upstairs, he heard the long-neglected TV blaring in one of the living rooms. Feeling somewhat guilty about his unsupportive attitude towards you earlier, he decided it would probably be good for him to make amends and apologise. So, before isolating himself for the evening, he sought you out.  

You were hunched on the sofa, watching 666 News, and grimacing at the new headline, King of Hell’s New Fuckbuddy.

Lucifer stood quietly behind you, watching as Katie Killjoy reported, “While Hell will be royally fucked by the impending extermination it seems that King of Hell Lucifer is being royally fucked by his new bimbo bitch, seen walking with him today on the streets of Pentagram City.”

Security camera footage of you and Lucifer from earlier filled the screen for a minute before returning to the hosts.

“Who is this Sinner? Does Lucifer get off on Angelic clothing? We hope to find out more soon. Over to you, Tom.”

Tom Trench continued the report, much less assuredly than his co-anchor, “Nobody can say for certain they’re together. Some speculate the Demon to be his highness’ new assistant or-”

Katie clutched Tom’s neck in one hand, never looking away from the camera as she cut off his air supply, “Nobody gives a shit about your limp-dick opinion Tom. We’re all here to speculate about who’s raw-dogging who. Now, onto our cooking segment, It’s Dahm Good, with host Jeffrey who is making a delicious spleen soufflé. Jeffrey-”

“HA!” Lucifer laughed, pointing at the TV.

“Shit!” You yelped, lurching forward, having not known he’d returned home. You turned the TV off and stood to face Lucifer.

He was doubled over and wheezing at the idea that you and he would ever be together.

“Well, at least you’re not upset about this,” You grinned, finding his good mood contagious.

“What morons. They’re always just there, assuming the weirdest shit whenever I go out,” He laughed.  

“Yeah? So, it’s okay people know we’re friends?”

Lucifer straightened up with a smile. So, you classed him as a friend? He didn’t confirm or deny your assumption of friendship. He waved his hand, unbothered, “Let them think what they want to think. It’s Hell, nothing matters. Besides, 666 News is trash.”

“Yeah, you’re right. So, how did the meeting with Heaven go? Did they agree to meet with Charlie?”

Lucifer sobered up slightly, though he didn’t seem as upset as he was earlier when Heaven was mentioned, “Yes. The meeting’s in a week. Charlie is- She’s optimistic.”

“And you?”

“I- My girl can handle it.”

“Yeah, she can.”

And so it was that you and Lucifer started to find some common ground, that slowly built the gap from two people who barely knew one another, towards friends.

[euaphora]

✎ as much as toji hated to admit to things, he loved letting people know the ways you made him feel and what better way to admit his feelings for you than alcohol in his system.

He went out drinking with his friends for a couple drinks, his eyes felt so heavy and body felt like it was going to collapse.

It was a good thing Geto had called you earlier since he always knew before hand how much toji would drink.

“…like around twelve is good, we’re at the bar with like the thingy with the outside poster that says “enter if you dare” I think it’s for Halloween or something…so come when it’s time to pick him up.” Geto slurs, alcohol hitting him hard in the face already.

He would rarely go for a couple drinks, especially if it was with his friends, geto and gojo. Though, this week was kicking him in the ass so what better way to end the weekend off than with his friends and a couple drinks.

You got into you and got the car warm with the heater, holding you hands out while you start the car. Checking the time you realize it’s barely about to hit eleven so you get on the freeway and head downtown to the bar Geto mentioned.

Slowly pulling up to the gas station and parking your car, you step inside the store and buy some snacks for your boyfriend to munch on when you would pick up, not trying to get ready to hear his rambling. He would always get so hungry when he would go out to drink and begged you to make food or pull up to a fast food restaurant.

Walking over to the door to the bar you can hear someone whistling in you direction behind you and hear them screaming names at you, getting cat called pissing you off with the way how nasty guys could be. As soon as you enter you could immediately hear the loud laughs of familiar men making you smile.

“She even got me these cute black Uggs for this cold ass weather, I was ‘gonna wear them today but I didn’t want any…beer on them. And don’t even get me started…” toji hazily said, cutting himself from talking when he drops his fry that you were standing a few inches from.

He quickly looked up after realizing who’s shoes those were since you would always wear them with your gold anklet he bought you for your birthday.

He gets up from his seat while Gojo continues with his rant , automatically towering over you, looking down at you with low red eyes and a sly grin placed on his face, “Nice to see you..my sweet girl,” he gives you a passionate kiss on the lips, “did he call you again?” He asks, his hands holding onto your love handles.

“I think we both know the answer to that, you having fun?” You question, tilting your head while you bat your lashes up at him. He slowly nods, making you giggle at his slow demeanor.

“I’m fucking ready to leave, do you mind if we drop off the guys first?” He slid his hands off you and clamps his hands together, with a pout look in his face.

Reminding you of a little boy.

“Well of course, don’t want them to crash either,” you slightly laugh but then stay serious, looking at them you see them still rambling about work,“you guys ready to go already ?”

Heading out the bar, toji’s arm was wrapped around you for support so he wouldn’t fall and it seemed pretty impossible since his body weight was insane, muscles taking up most of his body weight.

Placing him down on the passenger sea, he mouths a small thank you and pulls himself off the seat to give you a hug. On the other hand, as soon as the other two boys entered the car, they knocked out the minute they felt cushions. You look in the backseat, watching them drool in their sleep.

Driving towards Gojo’s house, you feel a pair of eyes on you without having to look. Pulling out the bag full of snacks behind your seat, toji’s eyes lit up and grabs the bag once you pulled it out in his direction.

Fucking knew it.

[lovelybucky1]

Crane Motel

Kinktober Day 12- Somnophilia

warnings: DARK FIC, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT: AFAB!reader, Psycho AU, non-con, somnophilia, struggle fuck, groping, incel!jonathan, oral sex (f!receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, 18+ Minors DNI

main masterlist

kinktober masterlist

The sky is pitch black and the heavy rain makes it difficult to see even ten feet in front of your car. You can't continue driving in these conditions, so you take the nearest exit in hopes of finding a place to spend the night or at least a place to pull over.

You drove about five minutes into the town off the highway until you came across a building. Crane Motel the neon sign read. Vacancies. It doesn’t have to be nice, it just has to be dry.

You pull into the lot, gravel crunching under your tires. It’s hard to see the parking spots, but no one else is here and you doubt they’ll come at this hour. You collect your items and make a dash for the porch of the office, locking your car with the remote once you’re away from the rain.

You open the door to the office and you’re met with the warm light from a lamp and an empty desk.

“Hello?” you say. No answer. “Hello?” Still no answer. You notice a bell on the desk so you try your luck and hit the bell. The metallic ring fills the office and from the closed door behind the desk, you hear a thump.

The door swings open and a young man in a light blue button down shirt that hangs off him and khakis appears.

“Hi,” he smiles. “Welcome to the Crane Motel.”

“Hello,” you smile politely. “I’d like a room please.”

“Of course,” he says, taking out the guest book and opening it to today’s date. As he flips through the pages you take note that most of them are blank, and the ones that are written on only have one or two names. “We don’t get many visitors up here,” he says with a small chuckle.

“Well, I’m only here for the night. The weather’s too bad out there to keep driving.”

The man nods in understanding. “I’m Jonathan, by the way,” he says, extending his hand to you.

You shake his hand. “Nice to meet you, Jonathan.”

“Likewise. I run this motel. My mother owns it, but she’s too sick to take care of things around here so I’m in charge of it.”

You nod along as you sign your name in the guest book. “Is it just the two of you?”

“Has been all my life. My dad died before I was born so it’s just been her and I.”

You find it a bit odd that he’s sharing so much of his life with a stranger, but you figure he doesn’t have anyone to talk to up here.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“Don’t be. Can’t lose what you’ve never had,” he says with a smile.

Jonathan tilts his head to look down at the guest book and reads off your name. “That’s pretty.”

“Thank you,” you smile.

“How are you gonna be paying?” he asks.

“Cash,” you say, taking out your wallet.

He furrows his brows. “Cash? You’re not on the run, are you?” You look up at him with a confused expression, but when his face splits into a smile you catch on that he’s joking. “I’m kidding. People usually use cash if they’re on the run or having an affair, but you’re here alone, right?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Alright, no reason to be suspicious of you then. That’ll be $30.”

“Only 30?”

“We’re not in demand enough to charge anymore that,” he chuckles. “Besides, you seem nice and you’re just looking for a place to stay.”

“Well, thank you, Jonathan.”

He takes your cash and counts it out, confirming you gave him the right amount. He then unlocks the cash drawer and puts the bills in their appropriate slots.

“Alright, I’m gonna put you in Cabin 1. It’s closest to the office in case you need anything tonight,” he says as he takes the key labeled 1 off of the hook screwed into the wall.

He hands you the key but before you could turn to leave, he catches your elbow.

“I was making dinner for my mother and I but I accidentally made too much. Would you like to join us?” he offers.

“Oh, thank you for the offer but I’m super exhausted from driving all this way. I’m just going to head to bed,” you say.

“Okay,” he says, letting you go of your arm. “You never said where you’re from.”

“Um, about a two hours south from here.”

Jonathan raises his eyebrows. “What are you doing all the way up here?”

You sigh quietly, growing tired of his questions. “I’m going on a trip with some friends.”

“Sounds fun,” he says.

You nod with a close lipped smile. “Well, have a good night.”

“You too,” he says.

You turn and exit the office, shutting the door behind you. You run to your car and grab your bags as quickly as you can to avoid getting soaked, then take cover again under the roof. You walk across the wooden porch to the door labeled 1 that is connected to the office. You unlock the door and walk into the room, taking in the surroundings.

The room is small but it has a bed and a bathroom, so it will suffice. You drop your bags at the end of the bed and open your suitcase, digging through it for pajamas and toiletries.

You change into your t-shirt and shorts, then disappear into the bathroom to wash up. Unbeknownst to you, the kind man you met at the desk is not what he seems.

He put you in the first cabin not so it would be easier to attend to your needs, but because behind a picture frame in the office is a hole that he can look through to see the bed.

Jonathan was infatuated with you the moment he laid eyes on you. He doesn't interact with many people other than his mother, especially not someone so beautiful and interesting as you. He knew he couldn't let this opportunity slip away. He had to have you before you left in the morning.

He waited for you to return from the bathroom and when he heard a thumb through the thin walls, he peered back through the hole. Seeing you undress was exhilarating. Your body is gorgeous, exactly what he likes. It's almost like the universe sent you to him for a reason.

As kind as you are, Jonathan knows you would never agree to a night with him if he were to ask. That's why he's going to wait until you're asleep to make a move.

Apparently you're less exhausted than you let on, because instead of going right to sleep like you said you would, you stay up for another hour watching TV.

Once you finally turned off the TV and lights, Jonathan waited fifteen minutes for you to fall asleep before sneaking into your room. He unlocks the door quietly and turns the handle before opening it so the knob doesn't click.

He's used to seeing in the dark, so he has no trouble making his way over to the bed. The faint light from the neon sign outside illuminates your face, making you look angelic.

Jonathan gently untucks the covers from your arm and pulls them down, revealing your body. He sighs in delight as he trails his fingertips gently down your arm, relishing in the feeling of your soft skin.

Luckily you're laying on your back so he has easy access to everything he wants to see. He pushes your shirt up over your breasts, revealing even more soft skin and peaked nipples that catch the light from the window. Jonathan brushes the pad of his thumb over them gently, curious as to what they feel like.

Getting braver, he palms your breasts and squeezes them. He's seen plenty of breasts before online, but he's never even been this close to a pair in real life. He is mesmerized by how the flesh jiggles.

He has been hard in his slacks sine you first came to the desk, but now that he is touching you, he is growing increasingly needy. He undoes the fly of his pants and lets his cock hang out from the zipper. Even having it out in your presence made him ache with pleasure.

Jonathan then turned his attention to your bottoms. He slips his fingers under the waist band and gently pushes them down as best he can. They get caught under your as, but he can pull them down enough to get a glimpse of your pussy.

His hands shake as he gently caresses your mound, surprised that you're even softer here. He lets his finger dip between your folds, feeling your wetness. Jonathan then pulls his hand back and holds it up to his face to take a deep breath of your scent. It's delicious, and he can't help but taste it off his finger.

He reaches under your shorts again, exploring your pussy and teasing your entrance while his other hand jerks his cock. He gets a bit too carried away, because his unpracticed hands must have poked you the wrong way and you stir.

Jonathan yanks his hand back and waits to see if you'll wake up. You remain asleep, but you roll onto your side, turning your back to him. He is a bit disappointed at first, but then he gets another idea. He pulls your shorts the rest of the way down and lets them bunch at your knees.

He gently spreads your ass cheeks to look at your holes. He has to stifle a groan when he sees the glistening of your pussy. Jonathan leans down to lick you from behind. At this angle, only the tip of his tongue makes contact with your folds, but it's enough to get a taste right from the source.

He moves his tongue back and forth as much as he can, imagining that he's doing this for your pleasure and not his own perverted desires. Between his legs, his cock his painfully hard and leaking onto the shitty carpet.

Feeling bold since he's done all of this to you and you haven't woken up yet, he decides to go a little further. He eases you onto your stomach and gently lifts your legs so he can slot himself between them. He slowly eases onto the mattress and spreads your folds so he can find your entrance.

He lines his cock up and begins to push in. It's a little difficult when the only experience he's ever had has been with his hand. He manages to get the tip in when he feels your body jolt. You make something of a whine and Jonathan's heart begins racing.

You try to adjust your position, still mostly asleep, but when you find yourself being restrained, you start to thrash. You kick your legs and claw at the sheets, all while yelling out.

"Get the fuck off me!" you cry, shaking your body like you're a mechanical bull trying to throw him off.

Jonathan doesn't want to stop. He's made it this far already. He presses down on your shoulder blades to keep you from squirming and your arms are pinned under your chest so you can't try to hit him.

You're still screaming, but now it's broken up by heavy sobs and pleas. You can scream as loud as you want but the only person around to hear you is the one making you scream.

Jonathan continues to push his cock into you, though he faces more resistance now that you're awake. You're so much tighter when you're scared, he notes.

"Don't hurt me, please. I-I have a family, please stop," you beg.

Jonathan frowns. "I'm not hurting you," he says.

How could he be hurting you? Sex feels good, and women love to have sex. That's what he's seen in all those videos. They love it so much they'll even beg for it.

Jonathan ruts into you and after a while, you lose the will to scream for help. All you can do is lay there and sob while he violates you. Jonathan, however, is enjoying himself very much. The tight, wet heat of your pussy around him is like nothing else he's ever experienced. It's addictive, and though he feels himself getting close, he doesn't want this to end.

Jonathan tries to stave off his orgasm but he's too worked up. He bucks his hips quickly, jackhammering you until he cums. He's fucking you like a fleshlight, using you as a place to stick his dick weather you're willing or not.

He buries himself deep inside you when he cums, emptying his overfilled balls into you. Jonathan is moaning and whimpering above you, completely overwhelmed by pleasure. He lays himself over your back and tucks his chin over your shoulder.

His face is far too close to yours and you scream again, hoping it will make him leave you alone. With a satisfied sigh, he pulls out and tucks himself back into his pants. He bends down to look at his cum leaking out of your pussy, just like he sees in all the videos he watches.

He grabs your covers and pulls them back up over you, tucking you in. You lay facing away from him, body shaking with silent sobs.

"I'll see you in the morning for breakfast," Jonathan says before exiting your room and heading back to the office.

Tonight he'll sleep on the sofa in the parlor in case you need anything. And he'll wake up extra early to watch you get dressed in the morning.

[i-am-shitpost]

Why have I never seen any headcannons or anything in fanfiction about Mic and All Might absolutely speaking English to each other and annoying the shit out of everyone (especially Aizawa)

Mic is always happy to discover a new way to drive Aizawa insane (with love) and All Might is just excited to practice his English.

All Might: Hello Present Mic! Nice weather we’re having today isn’t it?

Mic: Oh yeah! Nice and sunny, you should have class outside today :D

Aizawa: stop speaking in tongues

[chrisevansonly]

𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 | 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬

ʚ harry styles x female reader

ʚ you know well enough no matter how hard you try, your daily walks in london with harry will never be private

ʚ slight angst but not really? protective H, but also some good ol sweetness

ʚ not requested, just felt like writing a little something and it’s pretty bad but idk🙃

The weather in London had been surprisingly nice so far for fall, the sun shining and gentle breeze filtering through the still changing leaves was enough of an incentive to get you and Harry out the door for your daily walk. Luckily not far was a fall market, so the plan was to grab your oat latte’s from your favourite cafe and head towards the vendors stands.

“You ready to go H?”

Your hands fixing your vest as it rested over your (harry’s) oversized sweater, opting to dress a bit more comfy and casual

“M’just grabbing my phone then i’m good”

Soon enough he wandered into the front entrance, sunglasses in hand, as he smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips

“Ready”

“Shall we?”

Taking your hand he nodded, opening the door to your apartment and leading you out, making sure to lock the door before you both took off down the elevator and out onto the somewhat quiet streets of your neighbourhood. Thankfully you didn’t need to go towards super central London otherwise you’d have avoided the market all together.

“Seems quite quiet today don’t you think baby?”

Harry hummed

“A bit, but you know it’s never really quiet for us” his voice held an anxious undertone which made you frown

“I know, but i’m safe with you and we know what to do if it ever gets too crazy”

Three weeks prior the two of you had been caught downtown where it was way busier than expected and you ended up seeking refuge in a small boutique until Harry’s security team could show up, needless to say your boyfriend was not impressed and you stayed at home the next couple days afterwards.

“I’m still sorry for that”

A frown etched across your face once again

“My love you don’t need to apologize for something you have no control over…i’m safe, i’m not hurt and you aren’t either…I promise you do not need to apologize to me”

Even if you both were hesitant around pda, Harry leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to your lips, eliciting a happy sigh from you. The walk towards the market was nice, not many people, and when you arrived it wasn’t packed either.

“Oh H look they’ve got the chilli oil we’ve been trying to find”

Harry followed you towards the stand, eyes still scanning the area to make sure the two of you were okay

“Why don’t we get a few of them?”

You smiled

“Good idea!”

Paying the lady she bid you both goodbye as you kept wandering. A few people starting to notice Harry Styles was now walking amongst them, it wasn’t until you took his hand and squeezed it that he figured out you were starting to get uncomfortable.

“I think i’ve got everything,can we go?”

“Course we can”

His arm wound it’s way around your waist, tucking you into his side as you walked away from the farmers market, his fingers tapping your hip gently as a way to calm both himself and you down, both of you not a fan of the constant shadows that followed the two of you around. It wasn’t until a few voices begun to call his name that he stopped turning to face them

“Can you guys please not do that? It’s making my girlfriend and I uncomfortable.”

The two people with camera’s that had been following you stopped, both of them looked to be in their teens, it almost made you feel bad but at the end of the day, some people did forget Harry was human and wasn’t mean to be followed around like a lost dog.

“Oh sorry!”

“We didn’t mean too!”

Nodding he sent them a brief smile

“Thank you, enjoy your day.”

You smiled at the two teens as they walked away, obviously feeling bad for upsetting Harry

“You alright lovie?”

He nodded

“Yeah, just-I just hate that”

“I understand, we’re almost home and then it’ll be just the two of us”

He was more than happy to get home and cuddled up on the couch, the two of you going through another rerun of gossip girl as the weather begun to get colder. You’d bring down the fluffiest blankets and set up some snacks just to have a quiet afternoon which were always your favourites.

“I’m sorry about that again by the way”

“Not your fault baby, it happens, i’m used to it, and you always keep me safe so really, everything is okay”

Hearing confirmation was enough for Harry to press a kiss to your temple as you continued making your way home, excited to get out of the public eye and just enjoy some quality time away from the constant watching eyes.

[wooeo]

Hi!! I saw your request open ^^ I just want to request an ateez member!reader in wanteez (any episode will do) but if you haven't watched it maybe behind the scenes from their mv filming?? Thank you 😚

- 💫

☼ WANTEEZ MOMENTS — ateez x f!member!reader

note, i didn’t know which ep to do so i did moments from a few

ep 1

— wooyoung thought about the question for a moment, “i think (name),, she’s not gonna run,”

hongjoong nodded, “hm. she hates running,”

4th transfer student, (full name)

#VeryPolite #ThePerfectStudent

“what warm weather we’re having today,” you commented, walking along the path. your uniform shirt was tucked into your skirt, a shoulder bag hanging by your side. the cameras followed you as you walked, “i hope there’s something nice for lunch,”

before you rounded the corner a guy in the same uniform as you walked towards you with his hands in his pockets. a few steps behind him came a hoard of boys running, screaming at you to run.

you held back a laugh and stepped to the side, so they could run past you. a few tried to pull you along but you evaded with a grin.

you laughed as they ran past you before walking after them with peppy steps. you ended up besides the first boy who had walked towards you, “eunkwon?” you read his name tag, “nice to meet you,” you introduced yourself with a bow, him mirroring you.

“you’re almost late!” the teacher shouted, “you!” he pointed at you, “who are you? i’ve never seen you before!”

you held back a laugh, smiling politely instead. you bowed politely, hands folded in front of you, “hello. i’m a transfer student. today’s my first day here,”

“ah how polite,” he said hello as well, “go ahead,”

(name) attends school successfully

“i don’t run. i hate it,” you said, when asked why you didn’t. arm wrapped around wooyoung’s. you chuckled, smoothing down you braided hair, “i think it would take a zombie apocalypse for me to run,”

ep 3

— “did you play dodgeball in school?” one of the boys asked you.

“only when we had mixed gym class,”

jongho spoke up, “noona, the dodgeball incident,”

“what’s that?” yunho asked,

you let out a laugh at the memory as all the boys listened.

“we sometimes had gym class with the boys and we would play dodgeball. you know how whenever a girl gets the ball, they boys start yelling and screaming?”

wooyoung chuckled, leaning against your arm.

“i hated it, so whenever i got the ball and they’d start shouting, i’d walk to the front line and roll it over. i told the other girls to do the same, until the boys caught on and stopped yelling.”

“did you give them the ball then?”

“yeah,”

the all burst out laughing. chuckling along, you stumbled a bit as wooyoung leaned more of his weight on you.

“i didn’t want to play in the first place. i just did it cause i had to,”

ep 9

— the boys shuffled in, laughing quietly, “(name)~” seonghwa called out in a hushed tone.

you reacted with a quiet hum, eyes closed.

“how are you feeling?”

“tired,” your voice was a low whisper. curling your body into itself, “you’re loud,”

yunho chuckled, “cute~”

san’s hand went to your cheek, stroking it gently.

“san,,”

“hm?”

“can we get something to eat?”

quiet laughter was heard but you didn’t react.

“not yet, (name). you’ll have to wait,”

you whined, hiding your face under the blanket.

requests for member!reader stuff is open !!

[nburkhardt]

There’s an idea swirling in my head and it’s not making any sense. So we’re gonna ramble out whatever is in my head.

Steve knows the chaos it’ll start and he’s a little shit.

So, he pulls the shirt on and goes on his way. Ignores the stares and whispers. Goes about his day like normal, pulls on the Family Video vest and works. Helps customers, nods his head when he gets a question, sometimes lies and says it’s the only clean one.

“Know what it’s like? Just don’t have the time” he lies through his teeth and continues on to do his actual job.

Doesn’t have to see Robin to know she’s also staring at him and he shrugs when a question is thrown at him, “Birdie, how’s the weather today?”

Like he said, he’s a little shit.

Robin questions it throughout the day, throws it out randomly. Completely corners him at one point, “Dingus, what the hell?”

He smiles at her and it brings him joy when she glares.

The minute the clock switches to five thirty, he gives Robin a salute, kiss on the cheek and a shit-eating grin over his shoulder before leaving the store. He hears her shout, “You little shit!” And it makes his grin grow.

At the Wheeler household, all the kids are shocked. He’s leaning against the car waiting for them. His arms crossed and hiding half the shirt. Dustin’s the only one voicing out the confusion and shock, “dude, what’s with the shirt?”

Much like earlier he shrugs, gives the lamest excuse of “laundry day, sorry”

And it’s easy to thrown them off with a, “first one in gets radio privilege!”

All of them shout and book it to make it in first. He laughs as Lucas lets out a shout as Max’s pushes him. Climbing inside, he watches as Dustin elbows Mike, while Will and El watches. As he starts the car, his passager door is pulled open and in dives Max.

The drive to Eddie’s is filled with Kate Bush and grumbles from Dustin and Mike.

Oh, and questions about his shirt. Ignores it by turning the music up and smiles as Max and El sing along.

“Eddie’s gonna ask” Dustin announces as they pull up next to Eddie’s van, “he’ll bug you enough to talk”

He shrugs and smirks, turning around to look at him, “I ignored that all day, I think I can manage”

Dustin groans, glares and gets out.

The whole group is out of the car, at the door and as he gets out Eddie opens the door, “Ah! That time already?”

“You set the time, dumbass” Max points out, and pushes past him. Everyone else follows, only Dustin and himself left standing outside now. Eddie’s standing with them and he pulls down Dustin’s head before looking at him.

A grin slowly makes its way on Eddie’s face and leans forward, “ah, so that’s where the shirt went”

Steve grins at him, pushing Dustin out of the way and pulling Eddie close. “You left it, I found it. Finders keepers, baby”

Expecting shouts and yells, he’s surprised by the near silence in the trailer. Eddie’s laughing and he spins around to see the shocked faces. This is gonna be one of his favorite days, he thinks.

There’s a groan, a laugh and sigh coming from next to the kids. He finds Gareth, Jeff and Frankie sitting down and he grins at them. Getting the same response, while Eddie shakes his head with a “Now boys be nice, Honey runs things you know this”

They all roll their eyes as the kids figure out their voices again and immediately demanding what the hell is going on.

“Bambi left his shirt at my house, I found it. Decided to wear it and here we are”

Steve slips his shoes off, makes his way to the kitchen and grabs a beer before falling onto the couch next to Gareth, Eddie follows and immediately drops down onto his lap.

The kids all staring and Jeff laughing.

“It’s comfortable, right?”

He shrugs and puts his arm around Eddie, “eh, a bit tight on my shoulders. But sure, it’s comfortable, Love”

The kids are still staring at them, Eddie’s laughing and he’s just enjoying the fun. This is definitely a good day for him.

If all it took was wearing a homemade t-shirt with a devil face, he’d have done this sooner.

Plus being able to press a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek and call him all the names, is a sweet bonus.

~

Pls don’t ask me what this is, idk. Really I’ve had ideas of Steve wearing Eddie’s hellfire shirt in my head for two days now. Mostly because I bought a hellfire shirt from Walmart hahaha, I’m a dummy that held herself back from buying one sooner.

This wrote itself. I just kinda kept going and tbh it probably has typos and weird punctuation. But it’s fineee it’s just silly. Under the cut is my permanent tag list and a pic of myself wearing the dumb shirt a got ✌️

You get a bit of face reveal lol. it’s not the exact hellfire shirt but I love it 😌

Tag list: @spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @strangersteddierthings

[tobifuyu]

Snowflakes In My Stomach When We’re Kissin’

RAN HAITANI x f!reader

cw: nsfw, mdni, smut, fwb to lovers, oral (male reciving), tiny bit of angsty themes with happy ending, sappy fic, ran being a simp as always to feed my “he’s a self-centered bitch until he finds the one” agenda.

wc: 3.2k

a/n: surprise… i’m back with a christmas present! this is the first fic in a three pieces installment, which can all be read as standalone but come from the same universe and evolve in the span of three different christmases. in case you didn’t know, in japan christmas is a holiday in which people spend time with their partners because they reserve new year’s for family (not only i’ve seen it in a whole lot of shoujo anime but i’ve asked my japanese coworkers to confirm eheh). it’s also customary to eat cake! ;)

“Though you said you just wanted to get a coffee.”

The only thing peeking from the red scarf is the tip of his nose, flushed with the same color of the fabric that’s wrapped around his neck. You imagine his lips curved in a smirk under it.

When he came to pick you up earlier this morning, you thought he made a bold choice pairing the red garment with the unusual color of his hair. Up until then, you always believed red and purple would clash.

But Ran made it work, somehow. Like most things in his life, he did it with a confidence that made you question your world and how you view it even if for just a second.

“Well, that we did,” He shakes his hand, his long fingers easily supporting the weight of the full cup. You can see the steam rise from it and wonder if he’s not drinking it because he’s scared to burn his tongue or because he’s not ready to go home yet.

The two of you are currently walking around Shiba Park, not too far from Roppongi Hills. The peak of Tokyo Tower is hidden in plain sight behind the trees, stripped naked by the season, and adorned by strings of fairy lights.

In daylight they look clear, void of color, and empty, they come alive at night. Just like we both do, thinks Ran.

Ran does like winter. He believes winter poses more opportunities to forgo going out and staying in bed. He loves to gaze out of his apartment’s window and spot rain pit patting against the glass, watching the water droplets leave streaks behind as he lets himself get lulled back to sleep.

He also likes that he can layer more clothes, the more the merrier, he says, it’s easier to style it. You would agree, because he looks particularly elegant with his long black coat, left unbuttoned to glimpse at the nice sweater under it. The sight of his tightly clad body alone ignites a fire inside of you, one that is meek but insistent, and will soon start to burn you inside out.

What Ran doesn’t like it’s the cold. The wind is not fair against his pale skin, it leaves it red and stinging, much like his heart when he wakes up after a night together and doesn’t find you there. He does not like the cold, the cold of the sheets around him when you’ve left hours before.

He would like to pretend he’s clueless as to why, the same way you’re staring at him now, but he knows the reason behind it.

“Are you gonna tell me why we’re wandering around without a destination in freezing weather?

“Can’t you just live a little?”

You scoff at his words, taking another sip out of your hot chocolate to bite back an insult. He’s already testing your patience, and you have very little of it left today of all days.

“We should go eat some cake, I’d love an excuse to grab a Mont Blanc for later at that bakery by your apartment. Y’know I like it there.”

Cake. You don’t like cake, and you don’t like what eating cake with him would mean today of all days.

“Why do you have to make everything so complicated, Ran?” You sigh, head shaking in disappointment.

When you decided to start this with Ran, it was because you believed the man to be on the same wavelength as you. Ran had seemed like someone who knew what he wanted, and you had been sure that was not you.

He had promised that would stay the case. Your heart could not afford to be cared for by somebody.

When you look at him this time, you don’t notice how the wind is whipping the skin of his high cheeks red because his scarf is now covering everything but the lidded eyes staring at you.

At this rate Ran might end up hating winter: you seem to get colder with the season. He doesn’t think he would pick sleeping in over you, so if he could, he would like for summer to last all year long.

He’d like for you to cling to him even when the temperature is so high you can barely breathe in your cramped room, sweat sticking to both your skin and his, like your very first night together.

Because where the holidays bring glee to most, to you they’re a reminder of times that are long gone. A childhood spent decorating the tree and wishing for the perfect Christmas gift, now turned into a life of solitude. Your fast-paced job and lonely apartment away from home don’t leave space for the frivolity of Christmas.

“Didn’t wanna leave you alone,” he speaks so clearly of his intentions you almost feel shame, “Did ya think I would’ve left you bask in your gloominess, today? ‘M not that bad of an ass.”

You don’t think Ran owns you anything. He shouldn’t be picking up the pieces of you that other people left scattered and putting them back together as if it were a kids’ puzzle.

Ran knows you don’t really have anyone, he thinks he’s much like you, and would be just as bitter if he didn’t have his brother.

“You left Rin by himself?”

You hear his muffled laughter, “‘course not. Haruchiyo’s there. Y’know how they are.”

Yes. In love, you suppose. And you wonder if Ran thinks that is what it is. And what is it between you two?

You can feel his body warmth as he gravitates closer to you, “‘M cold,” is his excuse when his now ungloved hand catches yours. He intertwines your fingers, brushing the back of your hand with his thumb, before hiding them away in his coat pocket.

Gotta warm your cold heart up, he thinks.

“Saving you from this freezing weather,” is what he says out loud.

But you know it’s because the movement brings you closer, he pulls you so you’re now shoulder to shoulder, and you’re not strong enough to keep your head from falling on his. As if you were fresh snow in the sun, you melt in his presence.

“Let’s go get cake,” your voice is but a soft whisper, running past him like the breeze through the dying leaves, the wind finally settling down.

And that’s how he ends up in your apartment. Sounds of wet skin slapping against one another fill the void as he buries himself deep inside of you.

The sweet pastries Ran bought long forgotten over your kitchen counter, as he’d much rather taste the honeyed nectar spilling from between your thighs.

He’s grabbing at them now, the hold on your flesh sure to leave marks behind as he folds your legs so that he can loop his arms under your knees, keeping you spread open for him.

Big body caging you under his warmth with his forehead pressed against yours, and open mouths a breath away from the other, sharing sounds of pleasure without ever meeting in the middle.

It had been a tantalizing dance when you first started sleeping together. Like most people in your situation, you had both concluded that it would be best if you refrained from kissing. Deeming it too intimate.

Ran had caved after the third time you ended up in his bed, lips too needy to be kept from yours. He had let out a soft plead before you met him in the middle.

From then on you made it your mission to never kiss him outside of your bedroom activities, too scared of the power his kisses held over you. He and his annoying self had taken it as a challenge, always on the edge of his seat waiting to see who’d kiss the other first.

“Oh fuck this,” Ran groans before giving in.

You catch sight of his eyelids fluttering shut, hiding that violet color that you love so much, and your lips lock in a kiss that takes your breath as much as the hips still snapping against yours.

The coarse patch of hair on his navel repeatedly brushes against your puffed-up clit, making your hips jump up to chase the friction. The man is shamelessly shallowing your moans and caressing your tongue with his, teeth closing around your bottom lip when you go to pull away.

“Ngh, you taste like cake.”

Ran had snuck a bite of one of the pieces the moment he stepped out of the bakery, and the sweet taste on his tongue was, in your opinion, way better than the real deal.

His hand grasps your chin with firmness, the tips of his fingers squeezing your cheeks and making your blushed lips pucker up.

“So you do like cake, mh?”

“No, I don-“ Ran squeezes harder, and your mouth parts. A glob of spit falls on your tongue, one that you shallow under his scrutinizing gaze.

The moan that he lets out at that reverberates through your chest as he bends so close your bodies are now completely pressed against one another, sharing body heat.

This is what sex with Ran is, a concoction of rough touches and fucking that turn soft and slow when you least expect it. He likes to tease and surprise you, stealing the prettiest sounds from your lips and making them his. Making you his.

“Y’don’t like cake, s’okay. I know you like me,” one of his hands teasingly pinches your right nipple, respective eye closing in a wink.

You like that he makes sex fun, cracking jokes as if his cock weren’t pumping inside of you. You like it, you like him, but you can’t have him know that.

“That’s not-“ he interrupts you once again, this time with the snapping of his hips. He starts fucking you like he means it. Calculated thrusts hitting against the sweet spot only he knows how to find.

Ran is on his knees now, hands firmly planted on your raised hips, guiding you back and forth over his length.

“Fuck! Ran, fuck that feels good- so good-“

Slurred words leave your panting mouth as your hands hold onto the pillow behind your head for dear life, back arched and chest exposed to the greedy eyes that are raking over your body. From your perked-up nipples, begging to be played with, to the way your cunt is stretching around his cock.

“Don’t have enough hands for the things I wanna do to you,” Nonetheless, he repositions his right one so that it’s splayed over your navel, thumb reaching down to rub tight circles on your slicked clit.

“Fuckin’ cunt squeezing me so good,” moans spill from your mouth at his words, his voice is strained but maintains that hint of icy superiority and poise that is characteristic of Ran.

The way your hole flutters around him is maddening, Ran can feel your walls clenching against his length so perfectly. He can feel everything.

As a matter of fact, so do you. No matter how dumb he fucks you, you can’t ever miss out on the sweet feeling of his bare skin caressing your wet cunt. The squelching sounds are filling the air around you, making your cheeks heat up and your head lull to the side, trying to avoid his eyes in shame.

Half face buried in the pillow, you beg for him, “Ran, please, please. I need to cum so bad.”

His thrusts slow down, thumb stilling over your clit, and you hear him hum, pensive.

“Maybe if you looked at me, pretty, I might think about letting you.”

Gathering your remaining strength, you open your eyes to the sight of his glorious body above yours.

The wetness of his skin shines under the light of the outside street lamp, peeking in from the window, full body tattoo so enchanting, you watch it move and bend over his rising chest.

With violet eyes fixed on yours, he stands tall, unreachable.

The purple strands that fall from his gelled-back hairstyle are the only giveaway that he’s not so perfect and pristine after all, but he still looks like a god in your devoted eyes.

“Ran,” you call his name so softly he tumbles from the skies right to you.

His body bends to lay over yours, weight supported by his arms at your sides. With a snap of his hips, he breaks the longing stare you’re both sharing, mushroom tip hitting the spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Oh my god, that feels so-“ “I know, baby, s’okay.” One of his hands caresses over your head, before stopping at your neck and closing around your windpipe. The pressure of his touch against your feverish skin is delicious.

Your nails are now creating indents in the flesh of his arms. You want more, you need him to break you.

Ran can’t stop thrusting, pounding, burying himself inside of you to the hilt. He’s never wanted to be this close to someone before, never needed their warmth as he does yours.

He stops you before you can reach your clit with your fingers and, wanting to be the one to take you over the edge, he uses his free hand to rub over it vehemently.

“Coming, I’m coming,” are the rushed words that fall from your lips before you hit your peak. Wanton moans are gracing Ran’s ears, making his balls strain from holding back, but he wants you to bask in the glow of your orgasm before he reaches his.

“Doin’ so well fo’ me, look at this pretty pussy. Gushing all over my cock.” He looks down as he says this, watching how good he’s splitting you open, his cock coming out of you covered with the white sheen of your arousal, then plunging back in.

Your spent body is overstimulated, twitching in his hold as if trying to run away from the pleasure.

“You’re the only one, baby.” Ran lets slip, the sight of you in your most vulnerable state makes him just as weak, “S’all yours, so take it.” And he means it, you’re the only one.

Before you, life used to be in black and white. Ran had tried everything to paint it some other color, from violence to sex, but nothing ever came close to holding you in his arms.

Color is always all around him, but Ran’s devoid of it until you touch him.

You pull him down to you at the confession, arms wrapped around his neck, chests pressed against one another, hard nipples tickling the soft skin.

The pace suddenly turns slow, and you wonder if Ran does not care about coming anymore. His focus is on you, and you’re staring back at him with just as much affection.

“Let me take care of you,” it’s what you suggest once you’ve come down from your high, fingers pressing against his shoulders to have him lay back in the sheets. Short hair sprawled over the white pillow like a halo behind his troubled head.

Both of your thighs are circling his hips, too scared to have Ran pull out, and be prevailed by that sense of emptiness and cold that comes from being away from him.

Fighting a whirlpool of emotions, you feel the need to silence your mind with his lips on yours. The clashing of your noses does nothing to stop you from kissing each other passionately.

The blame should be on Ran for making you fall for him and gifting you a brand new reason to celebrate Christmas, but you should’ve known better when he walked into your life with that snarky smirk that makes you sigh just thinking about it. You bite his lip in retaliation.

The feeling of Ran’s hands traveling over your skin and sinking with his strong grip on the flesh of your hips is what makes you separate your two halves, pussy clenching around the length that has been filling you up so perfectly. The need to make him feel just as good swells up on the inside.

“Fuck, please,” A choked whisper, falling from the pearlescent of his lips, wet with your love, blood pouring out of the bitten skin.

Purple and red do look good together, you think.

Your hands are warm, trailing up his stomach like the ink on his skin. He feels as if you’re moving too fast, scared he might blink and lose the moment, and at the same time too slow for his liking. He’s begging and he doesn’t know what he’s begging for. But you do.

Ran’s hands tighten around the bedsheets. He wants to touch everywhere you’ve been, wants to get stained in you. Like fresh paint that sticks on skin, he’s now colored in your shades.

Wet kisses are being left on the top of his shaft. Ran’s right hand finds your hair, waving his fingers between the loose strands to uncover the sight of your pretty face.

Lidded eyes are watching you glide your tongue down his hardness, caressing the bluish veins running across its sides, tasting yourself on it.

When your lips wrap around his sensitive tip you have to hold down his hips with both hands.

The peace you set is slow, taking him in your mouth inch by inch. His girth stretches your lips and he thumbs the lower one as you look up at him with tears forming at your lashline.

“Mouth feels like fucking heaven, angel.”

Ran can barely contain himself, dangling from the edge, his balls heavy with his release.

When your nose is buried in the hair at the base of his cock, you know you’ve successfully taken him whole. A huge accomplishment on your part, considering how blessed he is.

With your throat clenching around him, it doesn’t take long to feel him twitch in your mouth.

“Yeah, pretty girl, just like that. Make me cum, fuck!”

Bobbing your head at his request, you’re hasty in sucking your checks around his length, letting him come on the back of your tongue with languid moans that contain your name.

No need for him to ask, you’re one step ahead by swallowing his semen, making a show of it before leaving a wet kiss on his tip, to collect the white drop that was spilling over.

“Better than any cake.”

Booming laughter fills the space around you as you scoot closer to his tired body, laying on his naked frame and stealing all his warmth.

“I do like you.”

“I know,” Ran looks down at you, left check cutely smushed against his pecs, “Let’s spend New Year’s together.”

The faint movement of your hair brushing his skin tells him you’re agreeing, “And what about… next year?”

“Let’s spend them all together.”

You’re warm in his hold, and he figures the fairy lights might’ve come on in the park.

Ran thinks back to the rest of the untouched cake on your kitchen counter and is happy enough that the two of you have exchanged Christmas gifts in your own special way.

After all, he took away the cold, and you’ve brightened up his life.

That’s more of what you could’ve wished for.

[fandom-chic]

Please Please Please: Chapter 13

Summary: Y/N is only a child when she and Tommy Shelby meet. The two quickly become best friends as they grow up in Small Heath. As the years go by, Y/N and Tommy know there may be more to their friendship than they originally thought.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Y/N

A/N: Final chapter my friends! Thanks for reading this, it means a lot to me. Enjoy <3 Also for those who are curious, the title of this fic is based off The Smiths song, "Please Please Please, Let Me Get What I Want". Give it a gander if you haven't.

Previous chapter

Year: 1924

Her curls did not want to sit properly on her shoulders. Y/N had been standing in front of her mirror now for twenty minutes, focusing on the strands of hair that would not cooperate. They seemed to be skewing and frizzing in directions she could not control. Even running a comb to loosen the curls did not seem to do the job. Finally, Y/N sighed and let her hands fall to her sides, accepting that this was the mess that was her hair that day.

She just wanted to be perfect. She had to be. 

A day like this is one that sticks in someone's mind for a long time and she must leave a favorable impression. Or at least pass as somewhat graceful, especially in the wake of what has happened.

“Mummy!” Her daughter’s shout reverberated through the house, interrupting Y/N’s racing thoughts. It may be for the best that she approached this day with her mind as a blank slate. That was what this day was, blank and with zero expectations. If it was anything else to her, it couldn’t be. One may say that was cruel and unfeeling. Y/N didn’t really know anymore.

“Coming sweetheart,” Y/N shouted back, dabbing a final blot of red lipstick upon her lip before heading out of her bedroom door. When she entered Jane’s room, she saw the little girl in her PJs still, holding a doll in each hand. Jane looked up at her mother, using the doll to gesture towards her.

“Play with me, Mummy.” Y/N let out a sigh before heading to her daughter’s bed, holding up the dress she laid out for Jane. 

“Janey, I told you to put this dress on,” Y/N said, annoyance mixing into her voice. Jane frowned, fixating back on her dolls.

“I don’t want to,” Jane stated, as if the conversation was over. 

“Well, you have to.” Y/N retorted tiredly, not wanting to argue with her five year old daughter. 

“No,” Jane whined, standing up and throwing the dolls to the floor. 

“Yes,” Y/N responded, “We have to leave in ten minutes or we’re going to be late.” 

“I don’t want to go,” Jane screamed, the tantrum on the precipice of beginning. Y/N could feel frustration simmering in her gut as she bent down to her daughter’s height. 

“I know you don’t want to, love, but there’s no one to watch you,” Y/N said, placing a hand on her daughter’s arm, “Plus, you don’t want Mummy to be alone today, do you? She’s going to miss you so much.” Her daughter’s face softened immediately, as if the idea of her mother being all alone was the worst thing imaginable. Jane quickly shook her head, grabbing the dress from her mother’s hands. 

“No, I don’t want you to be lonely.” Y/N nodded at this, feeling that with each day that goes by, she is becoming more and more like her own mother. The guilt tripping was beginning early. Y/N helped pull the dress over Jane’s head and took her daughter in. She truly was the best thing in your life. 

“Ready to go?” Y/N asked. Jane answered with a nod. Y/N gave her daughter a smile before taking her and leading the two of them out the door. It was too nice out today to drive, so Y/N decided to let them walk. It wasn’t the farthest walk in the world, only twenty minutes away. The weather seemed to put Jane in a better mood as she began skipping down the road of Small Heath. Looking down at her daughter, Y/N couldn’t help but see herself. This was about the age she was when she moved to Small Heath. This was the age she was when her life changed and she still isn’t sure if it was for the worse or the better. Regardless, William would be so proud of their little girl. 

The walk went by quickly and soon they were there. It was a small funeral, smaller than Y/N expected, especially since the deceased was a well loved member of town. Y/N and Jane went into the church and were greeted by a closed casket as well as a beautiful portrait of her, Grace. The barmaid from that day all those years ago. Y/N stood and examined every inch of it, taking in the soft blue eyes and the quaffed blonde hair. Tommy did pick a beautiful wife. 

To be honest, Y/N still wasn’t entirely sure why she was here. She and Tommy hadn’t spoken since that day five years ago. It was probably for the best, even if Y/N had spent many nights dreaming up conversations with her best friend. She played back that last night in her head, wondering what would’ve happened if she let him stay. She sighed to herself, squeezing her daughter’s hand gently.

Deep down, Y/N knew why she was here. He was her best friend and, even if he wasn’t there on the worst day of her life, she had to be there for him. A tear pricked the corner of her eye as she pushed that thought down as people began to file into the church. 

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s take a seat.” At that, the woman and her daughter went to one of the back pews and took a seat. The two of them observe the service from afar. They weren’t family and they were barely friends anymore. 

Loved one after loved one spoke about Grace, remembering the wonderful woman that she was. The event seemed to almost drag on until Tommy finally rose. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as he looked out at the crowd. She hoped he wouldn’t see her as she tried to hunch into the pew. 

He cleared his throat of tears before speaking, “I didn’t think this day would come. The day I would have to say goodbye to my Grace,” His voice wavered slightly but he continued, “But here we are. Grace, I love you beyond words and I will miss you for the rest of my life.” At that, he was done and he was seated. It was short but sometimes that’s all you can say when your spouse suddenly dies.

Soon after this, everything came to a close. Y/N and Jane rose quickly and began to head out. Tommy didn’t need to know she was here. As she’s about to make her way out the door, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She froze, not sure if she should look at who was behind her.

“Hello, love,” she relaxed at that voice. Arthur. She turned around and brought the man into an embrace.

“Arthur Shelby, it’s been too long,” she felt his hands go around her waist and hold her close. He then pulled away, putting his hands on both her shoulders, taking her in.

“Each time I see you, you just get more and more beautiful,” Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his comment. His gaze then moves to the little girl attached to her mother’s hip. He bends down, going eye to eye with the child.

“And you must be Jane, you look just like your mum,” Jane, usually not a shy girl, hides in Y/N’s skirt. Y/N gave a small chuckle as she looked back at Arthur.

“She’s not usually like this,” Arthur shrugged.

“It’s not every day a little girl has to go to a funeral.” Arthur stopped himself short before he could say anything else. He looked into Y/N’s eyes to see if he touched a nerve and noticed the slight sadness that entered and left her face. It was just a moment, but anyone who knew Y/N would’ve noticed. He cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing, “I’m sorry again about William.” 

Y/N’s gaze immediately went to the corner of the room. This was a discussion she was used to having at this point. It had been three years since she lost her husband, but the wound still hurt. It was like the scab got peeled back and slowly picked at until blood started to flow. 

Y/N let her hand fidgets with her skirt as she tried to look back at Arthur, “It’s alright, it’s been years now.” Arthur takes her hand from her skirt. 

“That doesn’t make it any less awful,” He gave her hand a squeeze, “The least I can do is ask you back for drinks at Arrow House. I’m sure the rest of the family would want to see you.” 

“Arthur, I’m not sure-”

“I won’t take no for an answer.” Y/N sighs, considering what the next part of her day would look like. Before she knew it, she was on the grounds of Arrow House. It really wasn’t a house though, a mansion was a more apt word for what this estate was. Even though the home could’ve fit hundreds of people in it, only a couple were there now. Family and Y/N and Jane, but Tommy nowhere in sight.

Everyone seemed to disperse around the house, including Jane who went off with Ada’s boy, Karl. Y/N tried to schmooze with the Shelby family, but couldn’t help her eyes from wandering. She had to find Tommy. She knew he was somewhere in this mansion. There was no way he wasn’t. So, when people seemed distracted, she left the crowd and began searching. It didn’t take a lot of exploring before she noticed a door with a light peaking through the bottom. Her curiosity didn’t allow her to knock; she reached for the doorknob, pushing the door open. 

Y/N was correct in her assumption because there Tommy was, head in his hands as he sat hunched at his desk. She knew she should make her presence known. She knew the least she could do is say hello. It would force him to look up and acknowledge her. But that’s not what she did. She couldn’t because all she saw was the boy with the baseball from all those years ago broken into millions of pieces. Her feet led her right to him and her body did what it had to. She scurried over, taking him into her arms.

His instinct was to twitch away, even try to swat at the random hands but then he saw her. Even though it was years, he couldn’t help but lean in. He knew it could’ve been decades, even lifetimes and he would always lean into her touch.

“Y/N.” The word came out in the timbre of a whisper, but Y/N heard it. It was her Tommy, how could she not?

“Tommy.” His arms wrapped tightly around her waist as her hand went into his hair, stroking it. “I’m so sorry.”

She waited for Tommy to respond, but he didn’t say anything. He just held her. So she let him. She let him take her in like she had so many times before and she felt a semblance of peace. Maybe for the first time in a long time. Minutes ticked by like this before Y/N felt Tommy move. She looked down at him to see him rising to his feet. Soon, her hands were on her cheeks as he gazed into her eyes.

“I can’t believe you came,” he whispered. Y/N couldn’t help but lean her forehead against his. He let her.

“You’re my best friend, Tommy,” she responded, her voice quivering, “it’s what best friends do.” She felt him twitch at that, knowing she may have accidentally hit a nerve.

“You can’t say that, Y/N,” the volume of his voice began to rise, “when William died I was nowhere to be seen. I left you alone like a fucking coward.”

“Don’t say that,” Y/N soothed, but Tommy pulled away.

“No, I will,” Tommy said, running a hand through his hair in frustration, “Your fucking husband died and I couldn’t put my ego aside long enough to see you.” 

Y/N stood in silence, watching him, taking in his words. At the time of William’s funeral, Y/N was half a woman. Not even, she was not even one percent of who she used to be. She was all alone with a toddler and a restaurant, unsure of how the next day would go. And despite all of that, she wished she could cry in Tommy’s arms. She also wanted to punch his chest in frustration. 

When she received the news of Grace’s death, she was ready to stay home. To spend a day like any other day, until she got a knock at her door. When she opened it, Polly stood before her, more sullen than Y/N had seen her in years.

“Polly, what are you doing here?”

“Hello, Y/N,” she said, letting herself in. She took off her gloves and took in the home quickly, before continuing, “I wish I could’ve come with better news but…” she trailed off before continuing, “Tommy’s wife died.” 

Y/N’s hand instinctively flew to her chest, “Oh god, that’s awful, what happened?” And Polly explained the series of events of the last few years and the rise to power the Peaky Blinders had come to which, inevitably, led to Grace’s death.

“I’m so sorry Pol, what a terrible thing to happen,” Y/N said, “Please send my condolences to Tommy, I’m sure he needs it more than ever right now.” Y/N had expected the conversation to be over now, but Polly didn’t move.

“He needs you, Y/N. More than ever.” Y/N averted her gaze from Polly. The last thing she wanted to do was see Tommy.

Y/N let out a sigh before saying, “Polly, I’m not sure that’s a great idea. Besides, he didn’t come to William’s funeral and that was-”

“I know, but you have to realize he couldn’t.” Polly’s hand went to Y/N’s, giving it a squeeze, “He may seem like a man who is invincible, but with you… it’s different. He becomes that little boy again. You’re more than he is and I think he knows that.” 

And those words stuck with Y/N, especially here in Tommy’s office. She didn’t care about his ego anymore or the jealousy or any of that bullshit. All she knew was he needed her. So she reached out to him, hoping he would come.

“It’s the past now, Tom.” The words shocked him and seemed to surprise her as well, but anger had to leave at some point. “You’re my best friend, you always have been and you always will be.” 

So he goes to her, pulling her into his arms. Even after all this time, they still fit like puzzle pieces. True, they were a bit more jagged now, but they still were perfect matches. 

“I love you, Y/N,” She knew those words were real.

“I love you too.” And slowly, they knew that one day, they could heal. 

End

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[1d1195]

My Friend's Toyota III

Read the rest here: My Friend's Toyota

~8.9k words

Warnings: Jealous Harry, a little pugnacious today. Nothing crazy, I hope. Mostly silly fluff

This is a bit all over the place. (A filler episode, if you will.) The next (and last part) will be more put together I promise.

-

She brought their hands to her cold lips and kissed the back of his hand. Harry was certain he was going to start sweating with how warm the gesture was and he couldn’t bring himself to care about how ridiculous it all was.

When the seasons change / Can I still hold your hand? / When we get rain / can I teach you how to dance? / It’s not even November, yet she’s worried ‘bout December / If I can have her in my arms / she won’t worry ‘bout the winter

“This feels ridiculous,” she said to Allie’s ear and tugged at the skirt of her dress, so it bunched in her hand, and she could press it to the outside of her thigh. She wanted the fabric to stretch lower. The chill in the air slid up her legs and under her skirt and it was almost icy. “It’s freezing out.”

“This is sweatshirt weather at best. Have another drink and we’ll stand by the fire,” she giggled. But without Harry to steal a drink from the fridge she didn’t have much choice of drinking.

“I know it’s lame, Al, but I want to study,” she practically groaned. “I haven’t a clue what’s going on in class. I was sick all week. I’m super behind.”

Allie snorted and shook her head. “So just take Harry’s notes and ask him.”

“I’m the one that helps him.”

“Sweetie. You’re twenty-one. It’s Halloweekend. We’re drinking and getting candy from cute college guys.”

The only cute college guy she wanted to see was Harry. But Harry was working and wouldn’t be out till much later. He was insistent that she stay out long enough so he could see her costume. “It’s not special...” she told him, her cheeks reddening at his request. “It... it won’t be like other people’s costumes on Halloween. Even Allie said it was cuter than it was sexy,” she admitted thinking of the Risky Business trio Allie was going to be part of for the evening. She scuffed her shoe on the tile floor outside her Sociology class when Harry inquired about the weekend. She had skipped last Thursday and Tuesday to recover from the cold she had. The sniffle punctuated how childish she felt. Harry was able to read between the lines; she wasn’t planning on wearing little to the imagination like many chose to do so. Allie assured her it was still sexy—in it’s own way—but not too sweet; she wouldn’t look out of place.

But she knew the truth. It would look cute and wholesome on her. That was how the guy described her last Halloween while she was working at a bar down south. Down there she could dress with little layering. She didn’t, but she specifically remembered serving a guy that was drunk and flirty. “I could take you home to Mom in that.”

It was her least favorite pickup line, but she knew it was true. It probably didn’t help that it was an angel costume. But it had always been that way. People like Allie dressed adorably and sexily. Allie, and others more confident than she was, were asked to go home for the night with someone they just met. She was asked to babysit or meet a parent. “I bet you’ll look...” he chuckled and pinched his lip between his thumb and finger as he scanned her up and down. He shook his head and smiled at her as her cheeks flamed at his scan. Despite the fact they had kissed and slept in the same bed (and nothing more) for several nights in the last couple weeks, Harry looking at her like she was... beautiful made her feel completely flushed and overwhelmed. It was insane that someone as popular, someone as handsome, someone so nice on top of everything else, liked her. “I can’t wait t’see it,” he promised. “Should I dress t’match you?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Really?”

“Well, yeah,” he smiled. “Want everyone t’know you’re all mine.”

She had to bite the inside of her lip to keep herself from smiling large enough to break her cheeks wide open. “I’ll send you the link,” she offered.

Now she had to wait another two hours before Harry was off work and on his way. Allie was already on drink number three and there were still no s’mores supplies by the fire. Even on Halloweekend. It was a real shame. Next time she was going to bring her own.

“But it’s cold,” she whined to Allie.

“Sweetie, it’s not even November. You’re going to need so many layers by the time we get to December.”

No wonder she was sick all week. The chill in the air was killing her. Harry was so kind and while he wanted to dote on her way more than he got to, she was insistent. The kind of insistent he didn’t want to argue with just yet—maybe down the line when they had dated for longer than two weeks. He brought her soup from work and as much as Allie tried to convince her to let Harry stay and wait on her, she was sure she didn’t need Harry getting sick on her behalf. Allie gave Harry a sad smile and a look in her eye that said I tried. For which he was grateful to have her best friend on his side.

*

Allie was the kind of person to talk to anyone that approached her. Like long lost friends. With her long-tanned legs on display, that meant there were a lot more people to chat with her. The remaining two of her trio came and went to take pictures and make appearances. She was able to chat with most anyone as well, but her introverted self, preferred a one-on-one kind of chat. It also helped when she wasn’t so cold.

The only person she spoke to between those moments of chatting with Allie’s friends, was the freshman pledge standing by the fire, aptly dressed as a firefighter—no shirt of course.

“You come here with her frequently,” he noted when Allie scampered off to dance to the unofficial Risky Business theme song inside with her friends. She enjoyed the warmth because she swore her dress was getting shorter by the second for her southern blood.

“Yeah, she’s my best friend,” she cleared her throat. “Are you stuck on fire duty all year?”

He snorted through his sarcastic little laugh but held a kind smile. He looked so young. She thought being twenty-one was young and somehow this eighteen-year-old guy may as well have been thirteen. “No, just the semester,” he sighed. “Thankfully,” he shook his head. “When you’re not here, you should see some of the things I see.”

She laughed softly. “I can imagine.”

“Do you know anyone besides Allie?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Well, Niall... adjacently,” she amended and shrugged. “He’s friends with my...” she cleared her throat again awkwardly. Harry technically wasn’t her boyfriend. But she didn’t know what to say, suddenly. “With... my friend.”

The guy smiled to himself picking up some empty cups around the fire and tossed them into a nearby bin. She helped as well, bending gracefully so as not to show off her butt. Her knees were stiff with cold, and it felt like her skin was going to break open. “Oh, you mean Harry,” he chuckled. “I was wondering about that status. Everyone is really,” he smirked knowingly. “You’re different than his usual kind of friend,” he didn’t mean anything by it. Just making conversation. But his comment made her heart feel like it weighed about six hundred pounds and sank directly to her feet. She shouldn’t have given it a second thought. Obviously, he wasn’t around long enough to know Harry’s motives or type or anything. Anything he said was basically a rumor. Clearly, her silence was noteworthy. “Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you,” his voice was remorseful and sweet. Especially for an eighteen-year-old. “You just hear a lot by the fire,” he shrugged. “The guy is crazy about you,” he reminded her. “I know I’m just a freshman pledge, but I see a lot. I hear a lot.”

“What was your name again?” She asked. Simultaneously, she wanted the conversation to stop but also wanted to know who he was later on when she had time to ask Allie and her friends. Or even Niall.

He stuck his hand out. “Kyle,” he offered while she shook his hand firmly.

“Kyle,” she repeated. “Well, thank you for keeping me company. Next time, I think we should have s’mores.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes. “My pleasure. You’re fun to talk to,” he smiled. “If Harry didn’t look like he was ready to kill me I would continue the conversation, but,” he pointed behind her and he gave her a wave. “I’ll bring s’mores next time. See ya around,” he meandered back to his station but shifted to the other side of the fire, avoiding Harry’s vision.

She turned to see Harry, pants with the 1960’s themed flower-pants decorating his legs, a brown suede tasseled vest—no shirt, circle glasses with colored lenses, and a chunky peace necklace hung around his neck. The pendant touched just above his navel. How he wasn’t freezing was beyond her. Even in her own dress, long sleeves, with the matching pattern of Harry’s pants, she was nearly shivering because of her bare legs. All those years her mom forced her to wear a jacket while trick or treating—when it was downright warm—were wasted. She wished for a jacket now.

“Hey,” she smiled sweetly.

“Hey, kitten,” he cooed, the irritation in his eyes still just behind the surface. “Y’look beautiful. Y’should wear a flower crown all the time,” he put a hand on her side and kissed her forehead in greeting. Immediately the stares ensued.

“How was work?” She asked.

“Fine, long. Lots of tips tonight,” he grinned, a spark of excitement replacing the irritation immediately. “Can take y’to the fancy restaurant now.”

His hand didn’t move from her side. It warmed her freezing cold body more than the fire did. “We don’t have to do that, Harry. You can save your money. But it does sound nice,” she smiled sweetly.

Harry stepped closer to her. Somehow. She was a good half a foot shorter, even with the chunky heels on that came with the costume. But he still had to bend his neck forward a bit to reach her ear. His hands were on her waist, cupping her hips and she wanted nothing more than to leave this place and snuggle up to him in bed. “I think y’look so sexy,” he whispered.

She blushed, giggled, and shook her head. “I look like I’m about to take the kids I’m babysitting out trick or treating.”

His nose bumped her temple. “No way, kitten. Too sexy t’have a gaggle of kids t’watch on Halloween,” he kissed her head again.

She rested her hands on his bare chest. He was warm. Not cold at all. “Aren’t you cold?” She asked. He chuckled, pulling from her and then wrapping an arm snuggly around her waist. Honestly, pressed to his unclothed skin was the first time in hours she hadn’t felt so cold.

“No, love,” he shook his head. “Have you been freezing?”

“Yes, extremely,” she smiled knowingly. “It’s parka weather.”

He laughed heading toward the house. “It’s barely sweatshirt weather.”

“That’s what Allie said.”

“Where is Miss Allie?”

“Umm...dancing I think,” she sighed. “I envy her confidence.”

Harry pressed his lips to the top of her head, kissed her temple, and smiled against her hair. “Think you’re perfect,” he murmured. No “just as you are” or “like this” was uttered afterwards. It seemed he really meant it.

*

“Hey!” She naturally perked up. It was between classes—her class at noon was cancelled and she didn’t need to be across campus for another hour. Normally, she scarfed down a protein bar and swung into the coffee shop within one of the dining halls to get another caffeinated beverage to hold her over in the afternoon. It was nice to sit and work on her assignments for a bit. She was lucky to get notes from all her classes—one of her peers in each of them was willing to help her out. She emailed her professors as well explaining how she felt like lukewarm death, and she would stay on top of things and be back on track before they knew it. So really, it was nice to have an extra break between her classes to help her get caught up a little more.

But the voice cut through the din of the dining hall and she looked up to see Kyle.

“Oh, hey, Kyle,” she smiled. She cleared a space at the table and gestured for him to sit.

“I never see you at this time,” he noted. She nodded, explained how her class was cancelled and she was getting caught up since she was sick last week. “How was the rest of your Halloweekend?”

It was lovely. Harry bought her a boatload of candy—so many mini bags of Twix bars and they watched three scary movies that had her snuggled close to him for most of the weekend. Harry made special drinks that looked like green, orange, and purple potions. It was adorable, festive, and just really enjoyable. “It was good,” she grinned, thinking about it fondly. “How was yours? Stuck by the fire?”

He laughed dropping his bag beside the table. “Yeah, basically.”

“Do you want to go get food or something? I’ll be here for a while,” she offered.

“Yeah, thanks, that would be great actually. I’ll be right back.”

While he was gone, she checked her phone to see how Harry was doing in class. This class he usually had to pay the most focused attention to, or he would miss something. My class got out early. I’m in the dining hall if you want to swing by when you’re done. If you can’t it’s okay.

I’d leave right now if I could, kitten 😘

Pay attention 😘

Kyle reappeared with a burger and fries. He also had a bag of carrot sticks which she thought was pretty adorable. He pulled his water bottle from his bag and set it out as well. “Whoa, is that a real class?” He asked.

She laughed. “It’s for one of my math classes.”

“That’s hieroglyphics, actually.”

She shook her head, still smiling. “Not a math fan?”

“I’m in pre-calculus and only because I took the placement test online and had someone help me get to it. I didn’t want to take the lower-level class for no credit and still have to pay for it,” he explained. She nodded understandingly.

“Well, I kind of like math, so if you need help, we could find a time to meet.”

His jaw dropped. “Shut up,” he practically gasped. “You’re kidding.”

“Of course,” she was too sweet. Allie said it was going to kill her one day. But Kyle was nice. “The hard part will be making our schedules match up.”

He sighed with relief stuffing three French fries in his mouth. “Wow, thanks, that’s so nice of you,” he murmured around the bite of his burger next. “I’m glad I sat with you instead of my friends today.”

“Oh?” She smirked.

“Yeah,” he glanced across the room to a booth filled with four boys who were all ogling the pair of them. “They all think I’m crazy for talking to a pretty upperclassman,” he admitted. “I told them I knew you from fire duty, but they didn’t believe me.” Her cheeks definitely warmed at the compliment, and she felt herself under the scrutiny of the whole group. “M’sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

Kyle was unlike any eighteen-year-old guy she had ever met in her whole life. The guys in her high school wouldn’t have been able to compete. “Do you have a sister?” She asked.

He nodded. “She goes to a different school, but she’s a senior,” that seemed to explain it. His sister was a year older than her.  “Why?”

“Your compliments are very kind, and I was just thinking that most guys your age—”

He smiled. “Oh... yeah. The guys all think I’m a huge ladies’ man or something,” he told her with an eye roll. He was brushing it off. But she could see it. In a lot of ways, he reminded her of Harry. “My sister just taught me really well how to talk and treat women.”

“That’s really nice,” she smiled. “Are you seeing someone?”

“No, my older brother is a legacy in this frat, so it’s taken up most of my semester—and before, honestly. I used to come to parties with him when I was still in high school because he wanted to show me the ropes. That’s how I know Harry... kind of, just from observing him and being around the frat life. Where is he, by the way?”

“Class, he should be getting out soon.”

He blanched almost immediately. “Oh, I better go then, I don’t want him—”

“What?” She interrupted with a scoff of laughter in her voice. “You don’t have to go. We’re friends,” she rolled her eyes.

“Um... I think Harry is a bit of the jealous type when it comes to you,” he explained. “I heard he punched someone at one of the parties you didn’t go to because they were talking about you. Plus, the guy in your sociology class wouldn’t keep his mouth shut and Niall had to tell him to shut it, or Harry would shut it for him.”

For a moment, she forgot how to breathe—or exist. She blinked; her eyes closed for a long moment before she looked at him curiously. “I’m sorry, what?” She tilted her head. She had heard rumors of course. The ones of inadequacy, difference of his previous relationships, just complete surprise in Harry being with her in general.

To hear that Harry was jealous—to the point of violence? How did she miss that? “He punched someone?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. I wasn’t in the room. But I know he definitely yelled,” Kyle shrugged taking another bite of his burger. Her jaw dropped.

The rumors didn’t bother her—not for why they should have bothered her. The feeling of inadequacy definitely hurt, but that was something she kind of worked out with Harry on her own. Violent outbursts were too much for her. Hopefully that was nothing more than a rumor. “Hey kitten,” she was lost in thought, didn’t even notice Harry approached. Looking up, she saw him staring at Kyle, seated across from her.

She shook her head to get her brain functioning again. “Oh,” she smiled. “Hi, you’re out early,” she stood up and pecked his cheek. He seemed stiff. Kyle paled while Harry continued staring and she felt so uneasy about seeing jealous Harry firsthand. Poor Kyle began cleaning up his stuff as quickly as he could. She put a hand on his arm to still him and he nearly ripped his arm away from her. Poor thing. “Do you know Kyle?” She asked as if he hadn’t almost taken his whole arm off at her touch. But she noted the way Harry shifted. “He’s usually on fire duty,” she explained sitting back in her seat. “I chatted with him on Halloweekend.”

Harry’s gaze was stiff, cold, and nothing like how he looked at her at all. “Kyle,” he repeated.

“Kyle was telling me he’s struggling with math,” she looked at Harry curiously, almost suspiciously. “You can vouch for me, right? I’m a pretty good tutor,” she giggled, and Harry loosened ever so slightly.

“Yeah, she’s a genius, I think,” Harry slid into the booth seat beside her. He kissed her forehead. “M’jus’ gonna grab a quick snack,” he explained and left his bag beside her.

“What are you doing?” She asked as Kyle continued to clean up his stuff.

The color in Kyle’s face returned to normal and he sighed with relief when Harry left. “He’s gonna kill me.”

“Kyle,” she snorted. “We’re friends. He’ll get over it.”

“My friends are tweaking out over there.”

She glanced at them briefly to see them all snickering and smacking each other at their friend’s discomfort. “I see that,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s just a little protective,” she offered.

“I don’t blame him; you’re very pretty and nice,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve been at a lot of these parties and no one ever gives me the time of day," he murmured right before Harry reappeared.

“Kyle, y’brother was in Niall’s frat,” Harry said placing his food in front of him—a pre-made sandwich and a bottle of apple juice—which she thought was the cutest thing in the world to see a twenty-one-year-old guy who was hotter than the sun drinking a bottle of apple juice with his sandwich. “What was his name?”

Kyle gulped almost audibly; he was so uncomfortable it was palpable in the air. “Uh... Jesse,” he answered eventually. “He graduated last year. But I went to parties a lot. Showed the ropes kind of thing.”

“Ah,” Harry nodded. “Well, thanks for keeping m’girlfriend company. Don’t know if she told you, she’s from the south. So s’pretty cold without the fire,” he placed a hand beneath the table on her thigh. It made her swoon internally.

Girlfriend.

She could feel her whole face soften and the word. Her heart rate began to fly. She glanced at Harry from the corner of her eye to see if he was having a meltdown internally like she was. He wasn’t. It was as if this was just another ordinary moment of her life, and her heart wasn’t screaming.

Kyle must have heard the designation as well because his smile brightened, and she swore his eye twinkled in acknowledgment. “I didn’t know that. Makes a lot of sense,” he seemed a little more at ease now that Harry had turned off the protective tone. But worry was still just below the surface of his eyes. “Uh... would it be cool to get your number to help with the whole tutoring stuff?” He asked looking at his own phone. She wished she could look at Harry’s face when the poor thing asked. Kyle may as well have been asking Harry for it like some kind of dowry.

“Of course,” she said quickly and pulled her phone up to a new contact and handed it to him. She put her hand on Harry’s, still on her leg. She squeezed it while Kyle cleared his throat and passed it back to her.

“Thank you, my... my mom will appreciate the help,” he admitted, shyly.

“Happy to help,” she promised with a smile. “Thanks for keeping me company again.”

His face paled again, Harry’s grip on her thigh tightened at the same time. “I gotta go,” he gestured to his friends still staring at the three of them. “Thanks for the help, see you around.”

As soon as he was gone, she turned more directly to Harry, getting a good view of his profile. He sipped his apple juice. “Did you punch a guy?” She asked. He rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Of course not.”

“Well, I thought that too, but you almost melted poor Kyle with your laser vision there,” she pressed a hand to the side of his face. Harry smirked under her touch. His cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink.

“M’jus...” he sighed. “Y’have t’understand, kitten. I’ve never felt this way ‘bout someone before. M’not usually the jealous type. Y’can ask Mitch and Sarah. M’not one t’play dick goalie; if someone wanted t’be in a relationship with someone else, m’not gonna make myself sick with worry,” he shrugged. “But you?” He shook his head. “S’like there’s this bug in m’head. The whole picnic was nice, but y’deserve more. M’ready t’do anything t’keep you to myself. T’give you all y’want and more.”

“And you think poor, baby freshman Kyle is going to give me more?” She asked sarcasm dripping in her voice. But it was still kind how she said it. She could hear the worry in Harry’s voice. It was unnecessary, but nonetheless sweet. She couldn’t believe he liked her so much.

“He already has a crush on you,” he grumbled and bit into his sandwich.

“He does not,” but the heat rising to her cheeks didn’t help her case.

“Of course, he does, love,” Harry rolled his eyes. “A hot, upperclassman talking t’a freshman? I’d’ve written our names in a notebook.”

“He’s harmless,” she promised.

“He is, but s’jus’ furthering m’point,” he smiled. “M’literally dating you and ‘ve got a huge crush on you. You’re nice, funny, and beautiful. S’like y’were made in a lab.”

“You forgot I’m good at math,” she teased.

“Don’t remind me. Don’t know why you’re slumming it with me.”

She smiled, shaking her head. “I didn’t know we were boyfriend and girlfriend,” it sounded so cheesy saying it out loud. She hoped he wouldn’t think she was ridiculous but it really ached in her chest.

“Kitten, we have been since y’agreed t’sit with me in class,” he smirked. “Y’should’ve asked,” he kissed the top of her head.

She laughed. “That long?”

“Mhmm...” he hummed and draped his arm around her and pulled her closer. “Did y’think this was just a little fling or something?”

“No,” she cleared her throat. “Or, I hoped not. But...” she shrugged. “I know I’m not like the other girls you’ve dated. And I know I’m kind of lame—”

“Please don’t talk about my lovely girlfriend like that,” he winked cutely. She rolled her eyes.

“I would be extremely jealous if I saw a girl flirting with you,” she told him.

His flirty smile disappeared, a frown replacing his entire face. “I would never make y’jealous intentionally. I haven’t noticed anyone since I met you, kitten,” he promised. “I really don’t want y’to worry ‘bout me. I know y’hear rumors and I can imagine they bug you, but s’all they are. If there’s ever something y’want t’know, y’can ask. I won’t... blame y’for asking.”

“I trust you,” her voice was so firm, she hoped he knew that. This conversation was almost too serious for a dining hall, but she was kind of glad to be talking about all of it. “Really, truly. Allie is gonna take a little longer to believe you, but even she said you act differently around me.”

“S’good to know,” he smirked. “I’ll work on it. M’glad y’trust me.”

She smiled. “You trust me, right?”

“I do, I really do, kitten. Believe me, s’all the guys that are right to flirt with you that make me crazy. They see someone so beautiful and kind,” he shook his head. “M’no better than them, honestly.”

For a moment, she just looked at him. It was hard to believe he was so crazy about her. After all he had told her, and all the issues she had within her mind, making her feel a little insane at times, Harry didn’t care. He assuaged every worry. Every minor little problem or fear she had, he plucked it right out and assured her that everything was lovely.

She leaned upward and pecked his cheek again. “No punching someone,” she said simply. “I have to get to class, are you going to stay here?” She asked.

“Leave you t’walk with the wolves?” He asked, packaging his sandwich up and putting his juice in his bag. “Absolutely, not,” he rolled his eyes. She giggled and she couldn’t help but notice how Harry’s smile brightened as she did.

*

Prior to university, Harry’s teachers told him and his classmates how they would have so much free time in college. Which was true in a way; Harry had a lot of time to join a club sport, hold down a job, go to the gym, enjoy himself as much as he wanted. However, all those extra curriculars and obligations he gave himself created a packed schedule. The fear of insurmountable debt made him pick up shifts even when he didn’t want to.

It was a miracle he found a girlfriend as busy as he was. If she had more free time, Harry worried she would find someone who had more time for him. But between working, classes, studying, and going for runs with Allie (although she assured Harry that it was mostly walking for the better part of ninety minutes and followed by a half hour of stretching), they mainly saw each other at bedtime.

“I think we’re an old married couple,” Harry murmured into her hair. He loved the feel of her body close to his. Having her in his arms was where he wanted her most.

“We haven’t fought about hair in the shower drain yet,” she reminded him.

“S’because all of it’s in m’mouth right now,” he spluttered, pretending to spit her hair out of his mouth. She twisted around, facing him, he smiled at her. “M’jus’ kidding. I would eat your hair,” he joked.

“You’re insane.”

“’Bout you.”

“Somewhere in the future is a true crime podcast about you murdering me,” she had this habit of placing her hand on his face and skimming her thumb across his cheek. It was soothing, if he wasn’t careful, he would fall asleep before finishing their chat. She threw her voice to do a monologued intro. “He was so handsome. No one suspected that he had a hair fetish that would devolve into full-blown cannibalism.”

He laughed and brought his mouth close to hers. “I wouldn’t eat you, kitten. M’not a psychopath,” he rolled his eyes. “I would probably just keep your body preserved and play house with it.”

She nodded. “Well, that’s a relief.”

He chuckled, rolled his eyes again. “Go to sleep.”

“M’worried you’ll kill me when I’ve let my guard down,” she yawned. “S’always the husband. After twenty-five years of marriage,” she reminded him.

“S’a risk we all take, I think.”

“Can you at least text Allie that she can have my clothes?”

“First on m’to do list after I clean up the blood.”

“I don’t think we should watch scary movies before bed anymore.”

“Yes, dear.”

She giggled. For a few moments they just gazed at one another. Her eyes got droopier, her breath slower. “Good night, Harry,” she whispered.

“Good night, kitten,” he answered just as softly. His tongue was twitching to say three more words. Words that, realistically, he wanted to say the moment he met her. His heart ached to say them as much as his tongue. Part of him wondered if she would say it back. Was it too early? She hadn’t been in love before. He needed it to be special when he said it. Was he prepared if she didn’t say it back?

Her face nuzzled into his collarbone; a sigh escaped her, completely content. He wondered if she was already asleep. Maybe he would just whisper it to her sleeping form for practice. Was he being ridiculous? Was it too soon? No, he never felt like this when he dated before her. “Thanks for being my boyfriend,” her voice was so gentle, so sweet. “I like it a lot.”

He kissed her forehead, his heart cracking under the pressure of how adorable she was. “Pleasure’s all mine, love,” despite how badly he wanted to say it, he wanted it to be more special for her. She deserved that.

*

Harry called his mum as often as he could to check in. It was usually twice a week and texts every day. He was sitting outside the restaurant in the cold, trying to ease his mind off the packed schedule he had for the next couple weeks. It was hard to believe it was mid-November. Finals and their holiday break would be right around the corner. “Hi honey-bunny,” his mum said into the phone. “You on break?” She asked.

“Yeah, hi Mum; how are you?”

“Missing my baby,” she cooed.

He chuckled. “M’jus’ calling ’cause I have a free minute.”

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. “How’s our leading lady?” She asked.

Harry smiled to himself, despite being alone, his cheeks surely turned pink. Shortly after his breakfast with Mitch, he called his mum to tell her that he met her; the girl he was certain he was going to marry her. “She’s good,” he nearly sighed dreamily. “Do y’want to meet her?” He asked.

“Of course I do!” She nearly cheered. “M’sure she’s lovely.”

“Y’know, her family’s down south. M’not sure what her plans are for the holiday break,” he shrugged. “If she’s stuck here because of flights, could I invite her home?”

“Oh of course! I’ll have to get her a stocking.”

“Er...don’t scare her Mum,” he laughed lightly. “I don’t know if she can yet.”

“Well, you’re certain you’re going to marry her, I better get one anyway.”

His mum was all on board for having a daughter-in-law. One that was sweet and perfect for her little baby boy. Gemma was excited to have someone to poke fun with and truly, she’d always wanted a sister as well. Harry felt his stomach flip at the thought. While his mum was a strong supporter and kind about who Harry fell in love with, Gemma was the slightest bit more skeptical. When he called her earlier in the semester about the pretty girl, Gemma was happy for him. “Harry, you’re very young still. I’m young. Are you sure you want to settle for the first girl you think is the one?”

“S’not settling, Gem. You haven’t met her,” he assured her. “S’not even close to settling,” he promised. “I know m’young...but...’ve wanted t’meet her for a really long time,” he told her. Gemma knew that. Her younger brother, the sweet six-foot giant, had been graced with a heart bigger than anyone she knew. He was empathetic, adoring, and always kind. As much as he hated bugs and spiders, he always wanted them to be saved when they were younger and placed neatly outside so as not to upset their little insect families. Harry dreamed about getting married the first time he had a crush on a pretty girl in his grade school classes. His heart was broken on Valentine’s Day when she didn’t send him a Valentine, but he had pored over his glittery heart craft that he had slipped into her school mailbox. The heartache only lasted a little while—he was only seven at the time—but he wanted love. It was obvious. Gemma and her Mum had cultivated his love of Rom-Coms and they were his first line of advice when he needed help with gifts for the girl he was seeing.

Gemma knew that Harry dated a bit, desperately searching for the lady that he thought would appear long before he went to university. So as much as Gemma tried to quell his excitement over the object of all his affections and remind him how young he was to find the love of his life, Gemma knew that she was different. The way she had captured her brother’s heart so entirely was a beautiful sign.

“Gemma will want to meet her too,” Mum brought him back to the present. His break was waning, and he would need to get back inside momentarily. “I’m really happy you’re happy, Harry.”

His heart felt so whole, it nearly hurt. “Me too, Mum.”

“Have a good rest of your day, honey bunny. Love you.”

“Love you too, Mum, talk to you soon.”

*

When they walked to class, it was freezing. Even for Harry. Which meant it was probably insufferable for her. Her hands were stuffed in her coat pockets, Harry desperately wanted to hold her hand but couldn’t bring himself to steal it from the warmth inside her jacket. “Y’really wanted t’come up here away from the warmth?” he murmured his question.

The leaves were no longer the warm hues of a sunset colors. They wilted into chestnut, sepia colors and piled along fences outlining the campus. The ground was hard beneath her feet, and she wondered if her coat was going to be thick enough to make it through the winter. She smiled. Her cheeks were wind-blown pink, and her nose was a little runny, but Harry thought she had never looked more beautiful. “Yes, wouldn’t have met you otherwise,” she said immediately. He chuckled, his cheeks turning their own shade of pink.

“Wait till y’see the snow,” he reminded her.

“I’m so excited for snow,” she sounded excited. God, he wanted to hold her hand so badly. She pulled a gloved hand out of her pocket at the very moment and pulled a strand of hair away from her lips. “I need hot chocolate,” she grabbed Harry’s hand between them and squeezed it, making him ache with more adoration for her. “Do you work today?”

He did, but it was a short shift. “Jus’ till nine.”

“So hot chocolate at your place?”

He wondered if she could see the somersaults his heart was doing in his eyes. “Please,” he squeezed her hand back. “I’d love that, kitten.”

She brought their hands to her cold lips and kissed the back of his hand. Harry was certain he was going to start sweating with how warm the gesture was and he couldn’t bring himself to care about how ridiculous it all was.

*

Fortunately, Saturday was much warmer than their hot chocolate date. It was still cool, but around the fire, it wasn’t nearly as frigid or achy. Harry once more showed up after his shift. Glancing through the gossip column that was his text messages.

Your girlfriend is awfully cozy with the Fire Marshall.

He knew that it was just to get a rise out of him. He didn’t even have the number saved. But it didn’t mean it didn’t work. After nearly sprinting most of the way from his parking spot to Niall’s house, he had to slow to a walk and take a few laps around the block to ease the anxiety in his mind. Kyle was just her friend. She was kind. She was lovely. Harry knew there was nothing he needed to worry about with her. It wasn’t her.

It was just that she was drop dead gorgeous and Kyle had a massive crush on her. His eye twitched and he rubbed at it as he meandered into the yard. The thought of them having a study session also didn’t help his anxious mind. This was a horrible feeling. He wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy.

Fortunately, he saw Allie chatting with a group of her friends in the front yard. Some drinking game was definitely happening—it involved cornhole, which he felt of all the games they could have played, it was probably the least dangerous. He gave her a wave. “Hi Harry! She’s out back by the fire!” She shouted. That seemed like Five-Drink-Allie if he had to bet. Poor thing was going to have a killer headache in the morning.

He chuckled, saluted her, and headed around the side of the house. He saw the bonfire and the pair standing by it. They were close together and his heart skipped a beat feeling anxious and hot as he watched while approaching. “S’mores?” He asked.

“Hi, Harry,” she cooed sweetly standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. Almost immediately, the fiery envy in his heart disappeared and was replaced with adoration once more.

“Hi, kitten,” he wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Kyle provided s’mores,” she said knowingly. “Now it’s a real party,” she explained holding the s’mores stick out toward the flame. “Do you like good marshmallows or bad marshmallows?” She asked.

Harry chuckled. “Sounds a bit loaded...What’s a good marshmallow?”

“Not charred on the outside,” Kyle rolled his eyes. A pang of frustration went through Harry over the idea that they had an inside joke he was not privy to. “She’s very serious about this.”

“Golden brown is best,” she explained.

“Sorry kitten, m’a charred s’more kinda guy,” Harry smiled.

She scoffed. “Horrible. Both of you. Wasting marshmallows,” she grumbled.

“M’gonna grab a drink. You’ll be here?” He asked.

“Yeah of course, I think Niall was looking for you,” she added reaching for the chocolate and graham crackers they had placed on a jacket on the ground. It must have been Kyle’s because there was no way she would part with a jacket if she were wearing it, no matter how warm it was by the fire; he was sure her icicle self couldn’t do it. “I’ll make you a gross s’more for when you come back; take your time,” she smiled. Harry winked at her, nodded to Kyle, and headed inside.

He found Niall hovering near the makeshift bar. Grateful he could just ask his friend to sneak him a can directly from the fridge without having to distract the freshman bartender for the tenth time in the semester. “Harry!” He cheered. Niall wasn’t drunk; it took a lot for someone so Irish to get drunk at all. But he was friendly. Harry was certain he would greet him the same way, first thing in the morning. “Mitch and Sarah are here,” he pointed toward a group of people over by the pong table. It looked like a game of quarters this week, but he couldn’t be certain. Niall got closer to him and murmured in his ear while he asked the freshman bartender for something to drink as well. “Is Kyle bugging your lady?” He asked. Niall looked at him knowingly, reading between the lines, Harry knew it wasn’t about her, it was entirely about himself.

“No,” he shook his head. “They’re friends.”

“I can tell him to cool it,” he offered.

Harry nodded. “S’fine,” he promised coolly grateful it was dark, so Niall probably missed the way his eye twitched. Part of him wanted to go steal her away and just take her home. Niall nodded.

“Alright, just checking. He’s a good kid,” he promised.

“Seems it,” Harry agreed. “Game tomorrow?” He asked. Niall nodded, excitedly.

“Yessir,” he saluted and slugged back more of his drink. Harry chuckled circling over to Mitch and Sarah. Sarah was clinging to Mitch. A good sign that she had more than her standard two drinks and was getting a little tipsier than normal.

“I got a great grade on my exam,” she giggled.

Mitch smirked and rolled his eyes. “I see,” Harry laughed. “Celebrating, are we?”

She nodded and held her cup out for Harry to clink with his own plasticky sound. “Is my new best friend coming over tonight for a sleepover? I want those scones she made last week!” Sarah nearly had hearts in her eyes at the thought. Mitch chuckled, kissed the side of her head, while wrapping an arm around her tightly.

“M’sure she can,” Harry chuckled. Allie happened into the room at that point and Harry waved her over.

“Hi!” She chirped and gave Sarah a hug.

“Do you two have plans tomorrow?” Harry asked. “Sarah wants scones.”

“Oh, so do I,” Allie bounced on her toes excitedly.

“You should sleepover too!” Sarah cheered excitedly. “We can put the boys in one room,” she suggested. Mitch snorted and rolled his eyes. He sipped his drink and looked Harry knowingly.

It sounded adorable, honestly. Bringing two facets of his life so close together. But part of him dreaded not spending the night snuggled up to the pretty girl.

“But no, we don’t have plans—I’m not sure if she’s working though...where is—? Oh no,” Allie seemed to sober immediately dropping her cup, spilling it on Mitch and Sarah’s feet before she ran out the back door. Without looking, Harry dropped his cup and the seltzer he had for her and followed suit. He sensed Mitch and Sarah on his heels.

About a foot from the fire, she was standing between Kyle and another guy. Harry didn’t know his name. The s’mores were abandoned, and Kyle had a murderous look in his eye. “Kyle, it’s fine,” she promised as he approached.

“No, it’s not,” he snapped. “Get out of the way,” he ground out to her but she was pressed up against him, her entire back protectively pressed in front of him.

“What are you going to do Freshmeat? Big brother’s not here to get you out of this one,” the other guy taunted shoving Kyle despite the fact she was between them. She smacked his hand.

“Stop it,” she scowled at him. Honestly, Harry thought it would have been cute had he not been so furious.

“Hey!” Allie shouted at the same time Harry shoved the other guy away almost immediately.

“Harry!” She shouted pushing Kyle back another step.

“Back off,” Harry snarled.

“Oh, so you’re okay sharing her with a freshman, but not—”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence,” Sarah warned.

She was holding Kyle’s arm trying to keep him calm. “Harry, let’s just go,” she whispered nervously. “Please,” she added, her voice catching.

“What did you say to her?” Harry growled, eyeing him. It was obvious he had too much to drink.

“Harry,” Allie warned coming to her side. “It’s okay, let’s just go.”

“You better take care of your girl, Styles. Or someone will do it for you,” he warned. Harry felt so hot with rage it was hotter than the fire.

“Harry,” Mitch said lowly. “Let’s just go,” he repeated.

“I’m getting Niall,” Allie sped back for the house.

Harry set his jaw, glaring at him, and turned his attention briefly to her and Kyle. “Are you alright?” He asked, his voice tight.

She nodded. “Very okay. I just want to go,” she whispered.

Harry backed up toward Kyle and her. He grabbed her hand and tugged her with him as quickly as he could. “Teasing slut,” he muttered lowly.

But not low enough.

Harry smiled, shook his head, and reeled around. “Wanna repeat that?” He asked.

“Harry,” her voice was close to tears, begging. “Harry, please.”

“Hey!” Niall shouted hurrying out the house in front of Allie.

“I said, she’s a ‘teasing slut.’ You’re just lucky you got to her first—”

“HEY!” Niall repeated but Kyle was the one that lunged at the same time.

“Kyle!” She shouted.

Harry yanked the poor kid away and shoved him back toward Mitch and Sarah. “Harry!” She begged again, apparently unafraid to get close to the action. Niall yanked her back just as fast as Harry pulled Kyle away and Harry started to lunge. With Allie and Sarah holding Kyle back, Mitch grabbed Harry before he could throw a single punch. The drunk idiot cackled at the drama and shook his head.

“Let’s go,” Mitch ordered fiercely. She sighed with relief grabbing his arm and pulling him close to her. Niall shoved the other guy back toward the house.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He almost felt as angry as he was moments ago. “S’not your fault, love,” Niall assured her with a smile. “Harry, y’good?” He asked. Harry nodded stiffly looking at the ground. “Kyle,” Niall looked at the younger one trapped between Sarah and Allie. “You good?”

He nodded once. “M’fine,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Sorry. He was so pushy. I just thought he was trying to drug her or something,” he promised.

Harry tensed up so hard he thought he would tear a muscle just standing there. She shivered. “Thank you, Kyle. But you didn’t need to do all that,” her voice was soft but almost warning—like a mum to her child. “I wasn’t going to drink anything he offered me,” she promised. “You could have gotten really hurt,” she reminded him.

Harry envied her coolness right now. He was fuming and while she was speaking as gently as she could to Kyle, her hand was roaming his arm just as gently. “Worth it,” he promised. They needed to leave quickly, or Harry was going to let all his jealous emotions surge through him.

“I’m ordering an Uber back,” Sarah said. “S’too cold and you’re too hotheaded to walk—you’ll end up sprinting,” she said to Harry. “How many?” She asked. It was determined all five of them would be leaving.

“You’ll watch him?” She asked Niall quietly and gestured toward Kyle who was picking up the trash around the fire.

“Always,” he winked. “Sorry ‘bout the drama, love.”

“Comes with the territory, I think,” she squeezed Harry’s hand.

“You’ll watch him?” Niall asked.

She smiled. “Always.”

*

Allie did a really good job realizing she was going to throw up the moment she got into Casa Mitch and Harry. “Sarah, can you get some meds and a soda?” She asked.

“You’re the bestest friend there ever was,” Allie moaned laying on the floor beside the toilet. Sarah smirked and handed over the supplies and doubled back for a pillow and a blanket.

“Scones in the morning?” Sarah asked.

“Sounds great,” she smiled sweetly. It was obvious Harry was still on edge. He headed into his bedroom and paced while she finished up with Sarah and Allie.

“You good there, Al?” She asked.

She held up a thumb that sort of leaned a little more than halfway down than it did up. Smirking, she waved to Mitch and Sarah gave her arm a squeeze. “Good night, Harry,” Sarah called gently.

“Shout if you need something, Allie,” she pushed her friend’s hair back and left her to sleep on the cold tile. She quietly closed Harry’s bedroom door and waited while Harry continued pacing.

“What did he say?” He snapped.

“Harry, it’s not—”

“Kitten, m’begging,” he looked at her so hurt, so terribly sad, she nearly caved.

“It was nothing, Harry. It’ll do no good to talk it out. You’ll just get mad—”

“M’jus’ gonna ask Kyle,” Harry was still fuming as he paced.

“Harry,” she repeated. “Please. I’m telling you; it was nothing. Please believe me.”

Harry pressed his head against the window. The lights illuminating the paths to the different buildings were soft and the room was otherwise dark. “M’sorry, kitten,” he mumbled. “M’jus’ mad.”

“I know.”

Harry turned and looked at her. He hardly got a sedcond to look at how pretty she was. “You look beautiful, my love,” he murmured. “S’no wonder y’got him all flustered,” he smirked.

She sighed; the relief palpable in the air. “I’m so sorry.”

“Y’did nothing,” he shook his head. “M’jus...crazy ‘bout you, kitten. I’m sorry,” he grabbed her hands and brought them to his lips. Her fingers were still cold, and he frowned. “M’sorry,” he repeated and blew his breath across her hands to warm them.

She looked utterly distraught. “He’s going to lie,” she croaked suddenly. Her throat closing around the emotion. “He’s going to say I was making out with Kyle or something. It’s not true Harry, you have to know that. Any rumor you hear tomorrow, it’s unequivocally false,” she had tears in her eyes.

“Baby,” Harry whispered. “I would never believe someone over you.”

“No?” She hiccupped softly.

He cupped her face. “Course not, love,” he kissed her forehead, and it melted her icy body so immensely. The first time in an hour that she felt calm. “M’sorry he said something to you, or about you.”

“It’s...it’s okay,” she promised. “I know you’re probably still... jealous of him, or whatever, but I was really glad Kyle was there,” she told him. “I wished you were, but it was good.”

“Don’t ever stand between me and someone that wants t’hurt you,” he warned. The one thing he would probably blame Kyle for from then on.

“Kyle’s just a baby,” she reminded him.

“I don’t want t’talk ‘bout Kyle anymore.”

She giggled. “Okay.”

Harry pulled his shirt over his head. “Let’s go to bed. We have scones t’bake in the morning.”

*

Harry woke to about thirty messages from a variety of people all claiming to know bits and pieces of everything about last night. Other than Niall’s, he deleted every single message without so much as a glance at the details. Instead, he looked at the sleepy girl, tucked near his chest. He brushed her hair behind her ear.

There was a knock. “Are you naked?” Allie asked. He snorted.

“No,” he murmured quietly.

Despite the fact she had thrown up, she looked pretty good. “I used your toothbrush,” she said climbing into the bed beside her best friend. Harry shook his head.

“Hi Allie,” she murmured.

“Hi sweetie,” she yawned. “You going to make Sarah and I some scones?”

She nodded, tucking her face into Harry’s chest. “In a minute.”

The twin bed was not made for three people and Harry thought it was quite hilarious. “Should I get out t’let y’snuggle?”

“Please,” Allie yawned and threw an arm over her eyes. He chuckled and kissed the sweet girl’s forehead before climbing out of bed.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

“I’ll make sure we have everything,” he suggested. “Need a new toothbrush,” he rolled his eyes.

“I like Harry,” Allie whispered.

“I do too.”

*

While cleaning their little kitchen, Harry couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how much he loved her. It was becoming impossible to not say it every chance he got. But he wanted it to be special. More special than he could ever describe. He was sure she wouldn’t care, but it meant more to him that it be special. Especially after he flubbed their first real date.

“What?” She smiled as she looked up from the dishes in the sink.

“Do y’want t’go away next weekend?” He asked. “Before finals get too crazy?”

He was envisioning a romantic weekend away at Mitch’s family’s cabin up the mountain. Quiet, cold, for sure, but warm in the cabin. Just the two of them. He could tell her he loved her. No distractions. Shopping in the little town, cooking together in a full kitchen, sleeping by the fireplace, and just sweetness and a special weekend for the pair of them.

“Do I need to bring anything special?” She asked.

“Another coat, probably," he chuckled.

Her smiled was a mixture of relief and happiness. “I would love that.”

--

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