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daydreams-after-dark · 3 months

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Good things come in small packages

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Mini Han x fem reader

Synopsis: One year ago you purchased a ‘miniature companion’ named Hannie. He’s the size of a Ken doll but alive and horny. But something unexpected happens on your one year anniversary.

Word count: approx 2k

A/n: Hey!!! It's finally here! My Mini Han oneshot (posted in a couple of instalments because I get too excited to share). The idea for Mini Han was born through a conversation with my girl @noellllslut (we always have the most unhinged thoughts). Then I wrote a little "imagining" here (which I’ve incorporated into this fic anyway, so you don’t have to read), which then sparked quite a bit curiosity amongst you sweet/filthy readers. Questions came, and I felt compelled to explore more of this theme.

I hope you enjoy this little fic. It's sweet and smutty, and as I kept writing, I fell in love with our dear y/n and Mini Hannie. I want one for myself tbh.

CW below the cut

CW: supernatural themes, oral sex, sexual acts, sexual themes, voyeurism

You've had your miniature human, Hannie, for almost a year?! You realize, sitting at your work desk as you look at your desktop calendar. You smile and make a note to organize a celebration for just the two of you, and to buy a cheesecake for dessert. Hannie loves cheesecake. Your smile grows. He always manages to get it all over him, then wants to get it all over you so he can lick it off you.

One year this coming weekend. It feels like time has flown, yet at the same time it feels like he’s been part of your life forever. Your heart bursts as you think back to how it all came to be.

You had been lonely. You'd broken up with your long term boyfriend and was feeling sad one night. So you went online to doom scroll, and online shop. You expected you'd end up down a rabbit hole of cat memes and be $500 down in shoe purchases, but instead an ad appeared on your screen.

"Miniature human companions" it said, with images of very attractive men. Miniature men. Were they human? Couldn't be. Were they robots? Probably. They must be really expensive to make which is why they are so small, you'd decided.

You were intrigued, so you researched the company, finding that this new type of 'companion' utilizes cutting edge technology that simulates actual human behavior and bodily functions.

By 4am you'd chosen your companion. His name was Han. He was adorable and attractive, with fluffy black hair and pouty lips, and from the personality trait notes, he sounded like a lot of fun.

"Pay Now". You can still remember the feeling of excitement that ran through you as hit the button to complete your purchase.

When he arrived, he came in a box with air holes, which you found kind of weird considering he didn't actually breathe oxygen. You set the box on your kitchen table, took a deep breath and lifted the lid. You gasped as you peered inside.

A little man, about the size of a Ken doll, sat on a blanket eating miniature crisps out of a miniature chip bag.

"Oh hello!" he looked up at you. "Are you my Noona?" he waved excitedly.

Holy fucking shit. You almost fainted as you stumbled to sit down on a dining chair.

You knew he was meant to talk, but he just seemed so real as he chewed his food then licked the seasoning off his lips like he could actually taste it. His little chest moved with his breath, like he was really breathing. Could he do everything a human can do? You wondered.

"My name’s Hannie." He said standing up and brushing the crumbs off his trousers.

"Um...I-I'm Y/n..." you stuttered, trying to process what you were witnessing,

"You're really pretty, Y/n." He beamed up at you with a gummy grin.

You prepared him a little space of his own, with a makeshift bed, clothing that you had also ordered from the company you purchased him from, and bought a set of Barbie sized cups, plates and furniture. You even bought him a Barbie Dreamhouse to live in, but he preferred to just climb up your full sized furniture and use that.

You studied the information manual that came with him and learned that he could in fact, experience life just as a human did. He needed to eat, sleep, wash, poop. Oh and he could get erections and ejaculate. Wow!

Over the next weeks and months you'd gotten yourselves into a routine, and became really close. He was your best friend. You did everything together, mostly staying at home. You assumed he was some sort of AI, and that's why you got along so well, but the longer he was with you, the more his own interests came to the surface. Like singing and Anime.

He helped you bake, often getting himself covered in flour and other ingredients. You'd watch movies together. Most nights you'd lay on the couch and he'd lay face down on your chest while you watched your favorites. Sometimes you'd feel him get hard against the curve of your breast, and you'd think inappropriate thoughts about him. You'd grow wet between your legs and wish he was able to touch you.

He loved it when you’d brush his hair with a tiny little hairbrush and sit him on your benchtop in the bathroom when you’re getting ready for the day. You know he loved it when you forgot he was there one time and you took a shower in front of him. He got so hard watching you soap up your body.

Sometimes you'd take him out on a picnic somewhere secluded near the ocean so he could freely move about the picnic blanket without fear of being seen. Or he'd sneak into your work bag and scare the shit out of you when you were working.

In the early days, you'd occasionally go on dates with actual men. Mostly to take your mind of your growing feelings for Hannie. You'd bring them home and fuck them in your bed, knowing he was somewhere watching, listening. You'd imagine him getting hard from your noises, and it made you moan even louder just picturing it. You'd imagine it was Hannie inside you too, pounding hard into your cunt, and making you come on his cock.

He was distant with you in the days after. He’d sit around sulking and pouting.

"What's wrong, Hannie?" You asked him after he’d ignored you for three days.

"Noona... it's just…I get so jealous of them." He burst into tears. "I want to do things like that to you. I want to the be the one who makes you come." He sobbed.

Things changed after that. You no longer went out with other men, and you and your miniature companion began to explore a more physical, more sexual, relationship.

From letting you see each other naked, to mutual masturbation, to eventually touching each other and making each other come.

You soon learned that even though Hannie is small, he is extremely talented with his mouth, and he can make you come harder than anyone had ever before.

One morning he noticed that you were still asleep, and very naked. The way you were laying, legs splayed out looked so inviting to him. You’d kicked your blanket off at some point. He couldn’t help himself.

You woke up to a sensation between your legs, and when you looked down you saw him kneeling between your your legs, using his arms to push your pussy lips open and doing his very best to lap at your clit.

“Hannie?” You whimpered. He stopped for a moment to stand up and wave at you, the entire front of his body dripping with your arousal. “I’ve just found my favorite thing to do!” He said enthusiastically and then he was back to being buried against your pussy.

These days, at night time he’ll climb up onto your chest while you’re lying in bed watching videos on your phone. He still loves to nestle against the bulge of your breasts, especially if you’re in a loose satin camisole, and he’ll slide himself under the fabric.

“What do you want to watch, Hannie?” You’ll ask him.

“Porn!” He’ll answer excitedly. The phone is like a giant screen to him and it’s never long before you feel him shimmying his clothes off and rubbing his little swollen erection against your skin.

He’s such a desperate little thing that you let him do whatever he needs to get himself off. Often, he’ll rub his cock along your bottom lip while he humps your tits, or he’ll scramble to suck on your nipple. He does his best to stretch his mouth around it, while he grinds against you and cumming on your soft skin. Then he’ll pass out right there. Poor little tyke gets himself tired.

Some of the kinkier things he gets you to do include tying him up and edging him until his cock becomes so painfully red and engorged that he’s crying. His naked body is delicious to look at, and you love to run the pad of your index finger over his muscles. He’s perfectly toned, his skin honey brown, and his cock is mouth-wateringly big for his frame.

He’s rendered helpless as you stroke your finger gently up and down his body. Then, using the tip of your tongue, you lick his cock carefully whilst shoving your pinky finger into his mouth.

There are times when you’ll dress up in lingerie covered in buckles and straps and he’ll climb up your body like he’s doing some kind of adventure hike. He gets so sweaty and very hard as he explores the terrain of your body.

He really is the perfect companion.

You are broken from your thoughts by your alarm signaling it's time to go home from work, and you hurry home to see your Hannie.

_____________

"Fuck! Hannie! Please... need to come...need one more...please. Don't stop." You pant. It's later that evening, and you're on the verge of your third orgasm with Hannie between your thighs sucking expertly on your clit. He's got your lips spread open as far as he can manage, and he's grinding against your core seeking his own release. Inside your pussy you've got your vibrator egg on full intensity. "Yes!!! Yes...coming!!!" You cry as you arch off the bed as you come all over him.

He quickly climbs up your body, almost slipping off because he’s covered in so much of your cream, and kneels on your chest to pump his cock until he’s spurting cum onto your tongue.

“Tastes so good, Hannie.” You show him your empty tongue, but he’s already collapsed across your body.

You clean him up and put him in his striped pajamas, before you both nestle into bed. You’re used to him sleeping on the pillow next to you now, although it took you a while to stop worrying you’d roll on him in the night.

“Noona? Did you know that tomorrow it’ll be one year since I came here?” He says sleepily.

You roll onto your side and smile. “Yes, actually I do, honey. Have a think about what you’d like to do to celebrate, okay. Anything you want."

He nods. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. But just so you know, it’ll involve me being buried in your pussy.”

————-

Han laid back on the pillow. What would he like to do to celebrate? He’d love to celebrate by being inside you. Properly. Fully.

He wishes he could do the things he'd seen those men you’d do to you all those months ago. To pin your legs up and fuck you so hard the bed would shake. He takes his mind back to when he’d hide on your shelf and watch, fucking into his hand and holding back tears of despair.

What would it be like to bend you over and fuck you from behind? What would it even be like to fuck you at all? He wants to know so bad.

But he does have a special relationship with you, he supposes. Not every guy has to stretch his mouth around a nipple or clit like he has to. Can those men be covered head to toe in your juices? Or lay completely across the bulge of your boob. No. They can’t. Only he can.

He pouts to himself.

He knows he’s got it good, you are his everything. But as he lays on the pillow next you and closes his eyes, he wonders if he’s enough for you? Could you give up real men forever, with real sized cocks that can stretch you out and fill you deep? Would you be okay with never having a boyfriend you could take out in public, or take to family events, or be seen with?

Could you settle for him? A miniature version of a man?

He sighs. "Goodnight, Noona. Love you." He whispers as he leans over and gives your giant lips a kiss.

"Goodnight, my sweet Hannie. I love you too." you reply sleepily.

As he drifts off to sleep he wishes what he always wishes. That he could be human sized and be with you like a proper human.

-----------

The morning sun peeks through your window, landing on your face and causing you to stir. You groan and try to stretch, but a heaviness across your middle keeps you in place. You peer down to find a man's arm wrapped around you, snuggling you tight.

Fear courses through your body, and you scream as you fling the arm off and jump out bed. You grab your lamp, ready to hit the intruder.

"Noona?" The man lifts his head, his dark locks falling around his face.

Your eyes almost pop out of your head when you see the confused look on his face. "Hannie!?" You choke, hands poised to strike.

"Noona? What are you doing?" he peers down at the pillow his head had been resting on, and then down the bed toward his feet. "Why is your bed so small?"

"Hannie?" You whisper, lowering the lamp, letting it drop to the floor.

"Why is everything so small? Wait. Why am I naked? Noona, have you been playing with me in my sleep?" He looks up at you confused and worried. "Noona, why are you looking at me like that?"

His eyes land on his pajamas, torn to shreds next to him. He picks up the scrap of fabric that was his pajama top, and his eyes widen. "Why are my clothes so tiny?"

"Hannie," you take in the man before you, naked and taking up most of the bed. "You're big."

To be continued…

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @kyunchoni @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @ismokeeweed @galaxycatdrawz @jiminssluttyminx @teddy-stay @kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

#skz smut #Han Jisung x reader #Han Jisung smut #han jisung x y/n #han skz #sorshas fics

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turtletaubwrites · 7 months

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Sweet Abduction ~ Part 3 ~ End

I absolutely adored this request, and you can click here for Part 1 and Part 2. I was nervous about trying my hand at some smut with this lovely 16.5 ft (509 cm) tall man, but y'all overwhelmingly voted for a smutty ending, so I did my best. I hope you enjoy this sweet conclusion! 💜🍩

Pairings: Katakuri x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3781

Ao3 Link

Summary: You and your new husband get to know each other, and what makes the other feel good. Maybe this abduction was a miracle after all.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Light Angst, Grief, (reader's dad has passed and she thinks about him a lot), Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Spit, Comeplay, Size Kink, Human/Monster Romance, He's freaking 16 ft tall, Reader is too sweet for this world

A/N: I love these two so much, they deserve all the sweetness in the world! 🥰

Every slow, steady step of the man who carried you sent your heart beating faster.

Your husband held you against his massive chest, the moment you were waiting for fast approaching. Your lungs didn’t quite know what to do now that it was so close.

“Do you have a map? I think I’ll get lost in here on my own.”

Katakuri’s soft chuckle felt so soothing through his warm skin.

“I’ll have one drawn up for you. There’s also some vehicles that you can use to traverse it quickly, and tomorrow the staff will return, so you can always ask for their assistance.”

“Staff,” you chirped, once again feeling out of place.

“Yes. I dismissed them for the evening so that we… I thought we should be alone on our wedding night.”

He couldn’t see your shy smile as you bit your lip, but you were sure he felt the bob of your head as you tapped it against his chest.

“Here we are,” he announced, opening a door made for someone his size.

“How do I open the door?”

Katakuri apologized, clearing his throat as he set you down. You had never met anyone so calm and polite, and you had no idea why it should make your skin flush the way it does.

Beside the door he’d opened was one your size, and you bit the inside of your lip to hold in laughter.

It’s like a pet door.

The image of your door, so tiny next to his, reminded you of those little doors for dogs and cats.

It didn’t seem right to make that sort of comment on your wedding night when you didn’t know how he’d react, so you bounced on your toes, trying to think of anything else.

He led you inside an immense suite that hardly seemed different than all the walkways and rooms you’d already passed.

Except for a corner of the room that had been decorated as an extravagant bedroom for you, your furniture looking adorable amidst all the space.

“Where’s your bed?”

Reaching to touch his knee as you surveyed the room, the only furniture you saw of his size was a desk and chair.

“I never lay on my back.”

“Katakuri,” you hissed, poking his leg, “Please tell me we don’t have to keep up the lie in our own bedroom?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said softly, kneeling to see you closer, “the staff enter this room occasionally, and I can’t risk it.”

A pout formed on your face from the disappointment, but he only smiled, bringing his finger to his lips as if shushing you.

That finger stretched, and your eyes went wide as the tip of it formed into a key.

He stood against a blank wall and pressed a brick as if it were a button. The wall slid away to reveal a large door, which he unlocked with that mochi key, offering his hand to carry you inside.

“This secret really is precious to you,” you giggled, listening to the wall slide back into place after he locked you in with him.

“It is.”

Your laughter halted as he set you down on the edge of the bed.

“Don’t worry,” you promised, gripping the soft blankets as he sat on the floor in front of you. “You’re my family now. I’ll protect your secret.”

“I know,” he said, the trust in his deep voice making you smile.

The small smile on his wide lips brought that fluttery feeling back, and you dangled your feet off the side of the bed. The bed was only a little taller than you were, so hopping onto it yourself would be like jumping a fence.

Falling off of it in the dark would still hurt.

Meeting his crimson eyes, your skin flushed again as you realized how distracted your mind was. How nervous you were. How he sat so patiently, his silence always peaceful instead of awkward.

“Y/N, we don’t ha–”

“Katakuri, can you–”

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat as you gave a small laugh, “you go first.”

Your voice came out high as you tried not to squirm.

“Can you kiss me again?”

This time his silence held more than peace. His brows tensed just slightly, looking at you as if he didn’t understand.

But he came to you.

One of those strong, warm hands stroked your hair, pressing lightly against your back. As he moved in, you couldn’t believe how a man so sweet could have such sharp and dangerous teeth.

I know he won’t hurt me.

The thought made you sigh with contentment, and you pressed your lips against his larger ones, minding the tusk-like fangs on either side.

“Wait,” you breathed against him before pulling yourself up to kneel on the bed.

Those eyes were even more gorgeous up close, and you smiled at him before tracing your fingers along his jaw.

The way he’d reacted when you kissed his neck earlier made you want to kiss him more, so you did.

His hand on your back tensed when you laid your lips along his scars, but you whispered ‘wait,’ and he let you keep going. Keep touching and kissing his beautiful face until you heard, and felt, a satisfied hum move through him.

“This feels good?”

“It does. What feels good for you?”

Shyness hit you again, and you bought time by taking off your shoes and tossing them as far as you could, bringing what seemed to be another rare smile to those wide lips.

You hoped that smile wouldn’t be rare with you.

“I like when you touch me,” you started, fighting to keep eye contact as the hand at your back moved softly against your hair and shoulders. “I like when you hold me. I like feeling you.”

“Will you tell me if you don’t like something, or want to stop?”

“Of course,” you agreed, grabbing his wrist, “will you keep telling me what you like?”

“Let’s agree to do both,” he said, both of you nodding as he pulled his hand away.

“If you’re comfortable, Y/N,” he started, his deep eyes pouring over you, “I would love to see you. All of you.”

“Oh.”

Blood rushed to your face, your cheeks, the tips of your ears, but you climbed away from the edge to stand on the bed.

After a moment of struggle, you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think I can take it off myself,” you gasped with laughter, turning to show him the complicated lacing that a team of servants had done up for you.

“May I help,” he chuckled softly, bringing his fingers to your wedding dress when you agreed.

Just those fingers running along your spine, pulling and tugging at your dress, was enough, bringing more delightful chills across your skin.

“Hmm…”

“What,” you asked, voice breathy.

“Would you be opposed to me tearing the lacing open? I don’t believe I can untie this without harming you or the dress.”

“I don’t mind! I didn’t even pick it out,” you laughed.

“I’m sorry–”

“Oh, don’t be sorry, Katakuri. I’m happy we’re here together now,” you turned to smile at his guilt ridden face. “Please get this thing off of me, husband.”

Seeing guilt replaced with satisfaction at your words made you want to keep doing that. Keep making your sweet, frightening partner look happy.

“Will you trust me?”

You agreed, then followed as he guided you into his hand, leaning over to bare your back to him.

“Please stay still, Y/N.”

A breath held in your body as he brought you close to his face. He never touched your skin, but you felt the laces snap and loosen, and knew he’d cut them with his teeth.

So sharp.

He set you on your feet, and you held your dress up as the back fell. Katakuri opened and closed his mouth, and you realized that you could both talk awkwardly through the whole night if one of you didn’t push through.

You let that heavy, decadent fabric fall down your skin, giggling a little as you had to shimmy it down your hips. You hopped out of the circle of fabric, and tried not to cover yourself with your as you stood in lingerie.

What do I do with my hands?

Katakuri’s eyes were so intense, as if you could feel them on you. Instead of squirming, you surprised yourself, stripping the lingerie until nothing but skin remained.

He took a deep breath, and sighed, tilting his head toward you.

“You are gorgeous, Y/N. I thought so the moment we met.”

“Same to you,” you teased, deciding to sit back down to fight off the urge to hide.

He removed his white boots and vest while you watched. You bit your lip not to laugh at how cute it was that he’d kept his frightening spikes and buckles, and just made everything white. Sitting in front of you again, his smile seemed stronger, as if he was starting to believe it was alright to show it.

“I would like to make you feel good. Can I try?”

“Yes, please,” you breathed, hands shaking with nerves as Katakuri bunched up the blanket behind you like a pillow. He leaned over you, that soft press of lips against yours before he hovered over your chest, eyes darker now.

“Please tell me if this is alright,” he checked in, humming quietly as you nodded.

The touch of his breath on your skin was already amazing, breathing over your chest, your stomach, your legs. His hands brought a gasp to your throat, arching your back as he traced fingers all over you, until your skin was tingling.

“That feels so good.”

Your praise was like an invitation, and soon those large fingers were massaging your breasts. He was so so gentle as he teased your nipples, and you heard his soft intake of breath when you cried out.

Those fingers trailed down to your thighs, spreading them softly.

“Is it al–”

“Please touch me, Katakuri,” you begged, spreading your legs further for him.

All the deep, pleased noises he had let out as you reacted to him made your eyes roll back, and the feather light touch of one of his fingers through your folds was almost overwhelming.

“Y/N…”

His pause brought your eyes to him, and you felt your body clench with need as you watched him lick the taste of you off his finger.

“You’re so wet, so sweet... Is this all for me,” he asked softly, bringing his finger back to slide along all that wetness, finding your clit to circle gently.

His words hit you like a tease, but somehow you knew he was genuinely asking.

“Yes, Katakuri,” you managed to confess while his finger made you twitch. “You make me feel so good. I want you.”

His mouth parted as he watched you writhe for him. You fought to keep your eyes on his, wanting him to see it, to believe it.

His jaw loosened just a bit, his eyes growing even darker as he circled that finger around your entrance.

That finger was at least the width of two of a man your size, and it was so long. He tested you, pressing in softly, smiling at your nod before plunging it inside of you.

Slowly thrusting, he brought his other hand to your face, rubbing his thumb along your cheek.

“I can’t believe how lucky–”

He cut himself off with a groan as you turned your head to take that large thumb into your mouth. You sucked and bit at him, swirling your tongue around his thumb as you watched those hungry eyes.

He curled the finger inside you, hitting that sweet spot until you were moaning around his thumb.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasped as he drew that thumb out of your mouth, trailing spit down your chin. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Katakuri kept his promise, bringing that spit covered thumb to your clit. Already so close, you moaned as he teased another finger, testing, pressing gently until you nodded, now plunging two of those large fingers in to stretch you.

“Please, please, please.”

“Are you okay–”

“Yes, please please,” you panted as his fingers started working in you.

“Mm, does my lovely girl want to come? Do it for me, sweetheart. Come for me.”

“Katakuri!”

Your hands fisted into the blanket, back arching as you moaned, screamed for him. For your sweet, scary husband whose fingers stretched and fucked you, curling up again and again, his large thumb rubbing perfectly over and around your clit.

It felt like an explosion, your mind going blank for everything except for raging pleasure, your body thrashing on that huge bed.

When your awareness came back, you were still twitching from aftershocks as he chuckled, smoothing those hands along your skin again.

“Kata… kuri… that felt amazing.”

“I’m so glad,” he sighed, tracing fingers through your hair. “Do you need anything?”

He helped as you struggled to sit up, your breathing still ragged as you grinned up at him.

“I want to make you feel good, please.”

“I…”

“Can I try?”

His own breath was heavy after what he’d done to you, and that made you want to give him more.

You chewed on your lip as he stood, removing those white pants with all their buckles and straps.

“It’s okay, we don–”

Katakuri started to turn away when he saw your jaw drop, but you coughed, your voice coming out high and breathy.

“Will you lie down with me?”

He climbed into bed, propping up on a pile of pillows the size of couch cushions.

“Tell me if this is alright,” you whispered as you crawled onto his chest.

Smiling at his nod, you laid against him to kiss his neck as you’d done earlier, enjoying the rush of the chills that ran over his skin.

“I like that,” he rasped, sighing as you left a trail of kisses along the crook of his neck. You teased a small bite, waiting for his response after he twitched slightly.

“I like that too, Y/N.”

Feeling his body react to your touch like this was delicious, growing that heat in your core, that desire for him.

Nibbling his earlobe was a dangerous task, but worth it, as this massive warrior squirmed under your touch.

“N-No more,” he pleaded, gently moving you away from his ear to sit on his chest.

“Did it feel good?”

“It did,” he admitted after a pause.

You answered by laying kisses and soft touches down his chest.

He must not get a lot of touch in his lonely life, you thought as you enjoyed his reactions.

I’m going to change that.

You worshiped his gorgeous body as he’d worshiped yours. Kissing and nibbling down his skin, you traced his muscles and tattoos with your fingers while his breathing and gentle moans were like the sweetest of songs.

Until you worked your way down, and sat beside the gorgeous, throbbing length of him.

The fact that he was larger than anyone you’d ever seen wasn’t a surprise. The girth alone was intense, but even though his length was intimidating, you tilted your head at it.

Maybe it’s possible?

You realized you’d been thinking about it almost scientifically, and looked up at his face, a hint of concern on it.

“Y/N, I don’t need or expect that, there are ple–”

“I won’t lie, Katakuri, you are very intimidating,” you teased, regretting the choice of words immediately as his face started to fall. You gripped onto his hip to bring his eyes back to you.

“But I would love to try that with you. I think we might be able to. Just maybe not tonight.”

“No,” he agreed, his face soft again as he stroked your hair. “I don’t want to hurt you. I only want you to feel good tonight.

“Well, you’re doing a great job so far,” you laughed, poking his side.

“So are you, little wife.”

The heat in his voice, along with those words, made your skin flush all over again, somehow feeling shy after everything you’d already done.

“I like when you make this face,” he chuckled, touching your cheek.

“Stop,” you squirmed, hiding behind your hands.

“Please, don’t hide that pretty face from me.”

His deep voice vibrated through his body, so you could feel his request through your legs as you sat on him, making you shiver more. But you listened, looking up at your gorgeous husband.

“Perfect,” he whispered, tracing from your temple to your jaw as your lips parted.

“Can I,” you choked out, clearing your throat before trying again, “can I make you feel good now?”

Seeing those scarred lips curve around those sharp teeth would probably scare most, but you already loved seeing it. It sent warmth right through you before you brought your attention to that needy length of his.

He had softened a bit as you talked, but you could see the drip of precum that had trailed down, rolling along thick veins that made you bite your lip.

It twitched before you touched it, already getting hard as his sharp eyes watched your every move.

Your fingers reached out to tease, just as you’d done across his body, tracing from the base to the tip, eliciting a little twitch from the crimson haired man beneath you.

Trying not to laugh, you realized you might get bucked off if Katakuri twitched too hard.

Pushing your thoughts away, you focused on the thick flesh in front of you, and the hungry eyes devouring you.

You had to taste him. Had to.

With your tongue flattened against him, you licked along those gorgeous veins, licked up that trail of precum, flicking your tongue across the slit of his tip, before kissing it, tongue swirling as you met his eyes again.

His wide mouth was open, sharp teeth parted as he breathed heavily, and you saw his large hands fisted in his sheets.

“Does that fee–”

“Don’t stop,” he begged, his voice strained as you’d pulled your mouth away. “Fuck, Y/N, please don’t stop.”

You answered with your tongue, licking and teasing around him, bringing your hands to his throbbing cock that tasted soo good.

One hand couldn’t fit around his girth, so you used both to slowly stroke up and down while you wrapped your lips around his tip.

His head tilted back as he moaned, your new favorite sound.

“Just like that, so good…”

Spit dripped down his length as you gave him as much as you could. The feel of him, the sounds he made, it had your own body twisting, clenching with need. You found yourself moaning and rocking your body back and forth as you touched him.

“Y/N, is that… Are you dripping on me?”

His husky voice made you pause, until his fingers slid between your thighs.

“Fuuckk,” he cried out as you moaned, his fingers coming away dripping with slick.

“You like my cock– fuck… this much, honey?”

“Yes, Katakuri,” you whined, your body feeling desperate as you kept stroking him.

“You’re doing so well, little wife. Grind that sweet pussy right here for me,” he gestured, bringing his fist up beside you.

With shaky limbs, you sat on the back of his hand, finding the perfect friction for you to grind on while you went back to your task.

The relief made you moan around him, and you opened wider to take as much of his thick cock into your mouth as you could handle.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Sweet mouth feels so good.”

Every delicious word of praise that dripped from those lips was like fuel to the fire in your blood. You rocked against his hand, drenching his skin as your clit got that perfect pressure.

Your eyes rolled back as you felt that thick cock starting to twitch.

“Wait,” he choked out, his free hand moving to pull himself out of your mouth.

But you whined, clinging to his cock as you hit your orgasm, grinding on his skin as he started to moan your name.

The feeling of those veins throbbing and pulsing was incredible. He came spilling into your mouth as your lips were wrapped around his tip. You tried to swallow it all, but it was so much.

You let it spill down the sides, using it to slide your hands along him a few more times as he let out deep, glorious moans.

Out of breath, both of you twitched and gasped until you could speak again.

“You made a mess,” you teased, gesturing to his come as it dripped from your chin to your stomach.

He let out a surprised laugh, and you gasped as he pulled his hand out from under you.

“So did you,” he rasped, making your eyes roll back as he licked your wetness off of the back of his hand.

“How do you feel?”

His gentle words seemed so much more open, less full of worry, and you loved it.

“I feel amazing, husband.”

“Mm, so do I, little wife.”

You scrunched your nose at the pet name, feeling like you should argue. But you liked it.

I like him.

You smiled to yourself as you watched him leave, going to clean up.

“What’s wrong,” he asked as he returned, that worry back in his voice as he handed you a damp towel.

“Hm? Oh, I’m sorry!”

Tears had pooled in the corners of your eyes, and you wiped them away with a laugh.

“I’m just happy, Katakuri. It’s crazy how this all happened. But I’m really happy to be here with you now.”

This sweet man’s face softened, making you believe your own words even more. You cleaned yourself off, and let him lift you up as he crawled into bed.

Katakuri laid on his back for you. He let you lie on his chest, the deep rhythm of his heart pulsing through you, sending your relaxed body to sleep.

But not before his gentle fingers stroked your hair, trailing down your back as you melted, the memory of your dad’s voice coming to wish you goodnight.

‘Don’t fight miracles, sweetheart. Sometimes good people really do get good things.’

You were right, dad. I won’t be alone anymore.

Katakuri’s deep voice rolled over you, proving it.

“I’m happy too, Y/N. I’m happy you’re my family now.”

You drifted off with his warm skin on yours, and had the sweetest dreams you’d ever had.

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Thank you for joining me on this super fluffy adventure! It's definitely the sweetest thing I've ever written, and I hope you you enjoyed it! 🍩💖

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel

#katakuri x reader #katakuri smut #charlotte katakuri x reader #one piece x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #fic requests #x reader #turtletaub fics #charlotte katakuri #one piece fics #one piece fanfiction #smut #use of y/n #one piece smut

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jaysfavoritee · 4 months

Text

ptolemaea | p.sh

pairing. ❥ vampire!park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre. ❥ angst, thriller, psychological

cautions. ❥ death, depictions of blood & gore, profanity

wc. ❥ 2.1k

synopsis. ❥ Park Sunghoon would do anything to protect you, no matter the price.

note! story inspired by Ethel Cain’s Ptolemaea ! thank you for reading, hope you enjoy 🤗

You stood in the room where the deep sunset appears through the singular window. The golden rays hit the quietest corners, providing solace in everything it touches. The sun does not comfort you, though. No. It cannot.

You poor thing.

You blink back the impending sting of hot tears from forming. You wish to not cry. You never cried. You shall not cry now.

“Come in here, I know you're there,” you whisper meekly, letting the vines and thorns planted inside of your throat rattle with each vibration of your vocal box.

No response.

You breathe in. You breathe out. “Sunghoon.”

The doorknob twists and slowly opens. It creaks loudly in this quiet space. Dust accumulating within the ridges and edges of the furniture floats about, the rays of the sun allowing you to see it.

A tall figure is seen, dressed in all black. His turtleneck, black. His slacks, black. His shoes, black. His neatly styled hair, also black.

He's utterly gorgeous. His pale skin complimented the silver necklace that adorned around his neck, the first letter of your name engraved on it.

He towers over you. He is not close yet not far away.

“My sweet angel. Why do you call out to me at this time?” His voice is as smooth as the sand that trickles down the hourglass that sits nicely on the table. You find that voice to be as comforting as the warmth of the sunlight that radiates on your skin. His presence alone causes goosebumps to become visible.

The rays kiss the side of his face, purely unaffecting him. He is perfect.

“You know why. I'd like to see him,” you state calmly, as calm as the waves of the sea that you could see from out the window.

Sunghoon's expression only contorts into confusion.

You blink once. You blink twice. “Jaeyun. You know this. I want to see Jaeyun.”

After a few seconds, the name registers. Sunghoon smiles and shakes his head. This action causes you to furrow your eyebrows. It's your turn to be confused.

“You promised me,” you mutter, letting the words become laced and tangled with offense. Your eyes moisten again with the tears threatening to fall.

“I devoted myself to you. I did that. I wanted you to let me see him again for the last time. That was the only thing I asked of you.”

Sunghoon walks against the old floorboard with hands clutched together behind his back, stopping right in front of you.

“I know. Is this what you want? Tell me.”

You nod. “Please.”

A pout tugs at his lips as he turns his head to look at the closet door behind him. “As you wish, my sweet angel,” he whispers before walking toward the door and opening it.

Out of everything you would expect, this was not one of them. The lifeless body of your dearest friend Jaeyun lies before you. His neck and the half of his face were mutilated with teeth marks. The rotting smell and the sound of flies buzzing around his body present itself.

He was bloody. So bloody. Clothes drenched in the colors brown, black, and dark red. You could see the insides of the flesh that had been played around with, making your body automatically gag.

You begin to blink rapidly. You slap your cheek in hopes for you to realize that you were hallucinating the entire image.

“You are not seeing things, my love. This is real,” Sunghoon tells you softly.

The sunlight that shone inside this room took away the familiar warmth and replaced it with an unrecognizable coldness instead.

Once your heart was able to process what you were seeing, you fell to your knees. The wooden ground poked harshly at the skin, but that pain did not suffice to the pain that spread throughout your entire body and soul like a raging forest fire.

The tears that struggled to escape, at last, released. Your eyes blurred 'til you no longer could make out anything. Everything felt hot and cold at the same time.

The fire deep inside of you climbed its way up your chest, to your throat, and finally, it came out as a blood-curdling scream.

Sunghoon flinched at the sudden change of atmosphere. You screamed as much as your body would allow, and you started to crawl on the floor, not caring to pick up your knees and letting it drag against the wood, causing the skin to peel and blood to trickle. It stings.

Everywhere it stings.

You cry out. Your broken sobs echo in this tiny room. The waves outside become dangerous, as if they could feel the grief that swallows you whole.

You see red. You see white. You see colors swirling in your vision as your heart breaks. You swear you can hear it.

You bring out a shaky hand and you place it on the side of Jaeyun's face that was not tampered with. One eye open, the other gone. Nothing emanates from his pupil. No soul. Nothing to be seen.

The same as looking into Sunghoon's.

Sunghoon lets you cry out for minutes, or hours, he isn't sure. Time does not exist for you right now.

You cough nonstop.

Sunghoon kneels in front of you. He tilts your chin up with his slim fingers. “You poor thing, my sweetest angel. Why must you cry?”

You angrily shove his hand away from you. He tilts his head in confusion, genuine hurt flashes through his eyes.

“You. You.”

Breathe in.

“What have you done?” You whisper hoarsely while glancing down at Jaeyun. “Why?”

“I kept your promise. Didn't I?”

You stand up immediately, though your balance nearly gives out from the wobbliness of your legs. “You didn't keep my promise...”

“But, darling, I have. He's right th-”

“He's dead. Look at him,” you mutter through clenched teeth.

Quietness fills the air once more. Your head begins to throb.

Breathe out.

“You wanted to see him for one last time, my love. Have I been mistaken?” Sunghoon asks, his face etched with worry.

“I wanted him to be...” you say quietly.

Sunghoon stares right at you.

“ALIVE!” You shriek. The glass cups that sit on the shelves rattle. Your throat is on fire.

Sunghoon swallows.

“I wanted him to be alive. You tricked me. You fooled me,” you cry, your shoulders slumping. You back yourself against the wall and slid down from exhaustion.

Sunghoon shakes his head profusely as he makes his way over to you. “No, no, no. My angel, I would never lie to you. I've devoted myself to you,” he says sincerely and looks into your bloodshot eyes.

“..I would do anything for you. I would die for you.”

“You knew damn fucking well what I meant when I said I wanted to see him one last time. I didn't want him to DIE!” You yell the last word at his face, making him flinch.

“My angel, you see, it had to be done. I've already told him your farewells before he took his last breath. I wouldn't say he deserved your kindness, though.” His eyes darken.

You feel like crying again and you shake your head resting on the wall. “What does that even mean, Sunghoon? What have I done to deserve this?”

Sunghoon gently wipes the tears that stained your cheeks. “My love,” he says as he stands up, holding his hand out for you to grab. You hesitantly take it and he helps you stand up, balancing yourself.

He looks down at you with something in his eyes that you cannot figure out, but you chalk it up to be something akin to adoration.

“I have told you this since the beginning,” he starts with a low rumble of his voice. “Once they see me in my full glory, I can never let them see daylight again. That's how it works.”

You bite your lip in an attempt to stop yourself from yelling at him.

“Jaeyun is not the man you think he is, my angel. I wouldn't have done what I did if I didn't think he deserved it.”

You stare into his eyes and for the umpteenth time, you shake your head. “What are you saying?” You ask, voice strained. Hurt. Broken beyond recognition.

Sunghoon holds your hands into his and he glances down at Jaeyun's body. He lets go for a moment before he reaches down to Jaeyun’s side, taking out a tiny journal from his back pocket.

Sunghoon stares at it before handing it to you. In pure confusion and your head still throbbing, you grab the book from him and open it to see Jaeyun's handwriting. All of the pages were filled to the brim.

As you take a closer look at the words, you realize that he was planning something. He was writing down the dates and jotted down a bunch of observations, along with his thoughts.

“Date. 03.25.12 - She tripped over a rock today. She laughed it off, but it was too tempting to pick it up and bash her head in with it.”

“Date. 05.01.14 - Every day the urge keeps getting worse. She disgusts me.”

“Date. 11.22.18 - I've practiced the way I'm going to kill her. I have it all set up.”

You look at the dates and the words in shock, your mouth opening while tears trickle down your face. “He-”

“My dearest. He was planning your murder,” Sunghoon interrupts, his hands finding their way behind his back. He stares at you flipping through the pages.

“No, this isn't right,” you blurt out, your fingertips losing their sense of touch. Everything is going numb.

Sunghoon lets out a long sigh and steps closer to you, embracing your figure and rubbing the small of your back soothingly. “I know. Throughout all those years of pretending, his main goal was to end you.”

You shudder and drop the journal, letting it hit the floor aggressively. You blink away the burning sensation in your eyes as you abruptly shove yourself away from Sunghoon's hold.

“How am I so sure that you were not the one to pull this shit out of your ass? How do I know you didn't do this on purpose?”

Sunghoon kneels down in front of you and places his hands on your waist. He looks up at you with love that you cannot ignore how hard you try.

“Have you ever seen a vampire blush?”

“What? No.”

“There's no blood circulating through my veins,” he continues. “I don't possess the ability to blush. However, my love, you have caused this. You make me alive.”

You sigh and he smiles. “You know what I am. You know my heart does not beat,” he says as he takes one of your hands and puts it right in front of where his heart should be. You feel the sensation of it beating. “This is possible because of the way you make me feel. I love you so tremendously, sweet angel. You are my light and my savior.”

“How do I know if you haven't said the same thing to thousands of women one hundred years ago before me?” Sunghoon can see the doubt written all over your facial features.

In response, he shakes his head. “If that were the case, that would mean I've ended them already. Your blood is the sweetest, and I have been tempted, though I have not acted upon those temptations. I would never lie to you.”

You know that to be true. He's always honest with you.

“I want to protect you the same way that you've given me life. You made me feel things I haven't felt in centuries, my angel. I would do anything you ask of me to. I would never let anyone or anything hurt you under my watch,” he says sternly.

He begins to stand up and he pulls you into another embrace. He protected you from what you didn't know. He saved you from what you couldn't possibly be aware of.

“I love you,” you breathe against the fabric of his turtleneck. “Thank you for protecting me.”

He smiles cheerfully that displays his sharp fangs. “I love you with everything in me. Everything that I do is to protect you, my dearest. Trust me.”

And shall you trust.

He beckons you forward to exit the room, and you wipe away the rest of your tears as he intertwines your fingers with his. Before he leaves, he takes one last look at the journal and Jaeyun's dead body.

The journal that he purely made up. The journal that he manipulated your sweet mind to hallucinate.

Jaeyun was straying too close to what was his.

The devil himself wouldn't let that happen. Not under his watch.

#sunghoon #sunghoon angst #enhypen #enhypen horror #enhypen fanfiction #enha x reader #enhypen vampire au

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babyouran · 5 months

Text

The Grade School Host is the Naughty Type! - a young boy joins the host club in hopes of learning from the masters to impress a special lady. yet they aren’t ready for all the effort it takes to train such a rowdy young man.

pairing - fem! reader x host club

apart of - ouran add-in

The theme for this special day was Arabian as their clothes were flowing in gorgeous colors with prized possessions, in gold, filtered about the room. When the boy in a green uniform finally opened the door, he was shocked at what he was witnessing, the image seeming like something not from their country but a foreign one. He tripped over himself and stared up at the members in astonishment.

"Welcome to the Ouran Host Club," The club announced, all seated by each other with ripe, delicious fruits peeked in between and extravagant furniture.

"Oh it's just a kid," Hikaru noticed.

"Not only that, it's just a boy," Kaoru added, clearly the two disappointed.

"What's wrong little boy? Did you come to my palace in search of something?" Tamaki stuck out his hand with a golden ring and red gem resting in his palm.

"Uh, are you the king of this place?" The boy wondered, standing up from the ground.

"Come closer, lost one," Tamaki motioned for him to come over. "What was it you just called me?"

"The king."

"Ah, the King! Yes, I'm the king of the Ouran Host Club! Long live the host king."

"Oh no," Y/n whispered, looking at Tamaki who practically had stars in his eyes. He was standing up from his throne proudly, standing tall to pretend as if he were on a balcony surveying his kingdom.

"I'm an elementary fifth year, Takaoji Shiro," He introduced. "I want the Host Club King to take me on as an apprentice!"

Due to a successful flattering, soon enough the elementary school student was taken on as a co-host and offered the opportunity to watch Tamaki in action.

"Oh my, Tamaki, you have an apprentice?" A black-haired female wondered, sitting beside him.

"Yes, he's still in elementary school but I like the fire in his eyes.”

"But are you sure it's okay for such a young boy to become a host?"

"Why wouldn't it be? Love has nothing to do with age," Tamaki spoke, gently caressing her chin. "Take us for instance, whenever I look at you my heart starts pounding. Suddenly I feel no different than a lovesick little boy."

"Oh-oh Tamaki," The girl stuttered.

"Isn't it a little strange how Shiro-kun is just watching?" Y/n wondered, turning towards Haruhi and Kyoya who were also witnessing the whole scene go down. Shiro was in between Tamaki and his guest, face a little too close up to where Tamaki was touching her face.

"There is a theory that people are considered more beautiful the closer they are viewed. Tamaki seems to live by that theory," Kyoya told them. Y/n nodded in understanding and walked up closer to Kyoya. She put her face near his, their noses almost touching, before pulling away and sitting back down beside Haruhi.

He felt his cheeks warm up, "Well, ahem, let's leave them alone," He muttered, moving further away from where Y/n was now sitting.

"You naughty girl, you've drawn me to the forbidden fruit. Dearest you're the mermaid who's brought light into my lonely sea. My mermaid princess," Tamaki flirted.

"I remind you of a mermaid?" The girl asked.

"You look more like the carp that swims in my pond at home," The younger boy insulted. "I'd never give false compliments like that!"

"Carp?"

"Don't listen to him, he's just a kid, you know how kids are. They can't help but be honest," Tamaki tried to reassure her.

"Honest?"

"But that's just his opinion! I wouldn't say you look like a carp, and even if you did look like a carp you'd be the most beautiful carp of them all!" Tamaki spoke frantically.

"So I am a carp!"

"Uh, no that-that's not what I meant," Tamaki stuttered.

"Tamaki you're an idiot!" She cried, running out of the room embarrassed and ashamed.

"No wait! Mermaid princess!"

"Man, what a crybaby," Shiro commented, crossing his legs and arms in disappointment.

"So how's it going boss, that's an adorable little apprentice you've got there," Hikaru laughed.

"Hikaru, do you wish you had a little brother like Shiro?" Kaoru questioned.

"Don't be silly, I could search the globe and I'd never find a better brother than you, Kaoru," Hikaru expressed, taking his brother into his arms for a tight hug.

"Uh, Hikaru."

"Look! They're doing it! It's forbidden brotherly love," Two girls cooed.

"They're homos! And they're brothers! That makes this totally insectuous!" The boy yelled.

"I think what you mean to say was incestuous," Tamaki corrected.

"Hey Shiro-chan! Want to have a piece of cake with me?" Honey wondered, jumping onto the younger boy's back. "We've got three kinds, chocolate, strawberry, and lime."

"Hey! Back off, what grade are you in any way?” Shiro shook his back in an attempt to get Honey off of him. “Why are you wearing a High school uniform?" Shiro asked staring at Honey with a disgusted face. In response, Honey's eyes started to bubble with tears.

"Something is wrong? Mitsukuni?" Mori queried.

"Honey-senpai, are you alright?" Y/n questioned, walking over to the boy. "I'd love to have cake with you, we can talk while you eat," Y/n nodded, letting the boy grab her hand.

"That's not fair! A little kid like you isn't supposed to have a cool older friend and a hot girl like her!" Shiro complained, walking backward in annoyance until he was stopped due to bumping into Haruhi.

"Are you alright? I know it's kinda hard to get used to all the weirdos around here, besides Y/n. She's very kind," Haruhi looked up at Y/n who was now showing a book to Mori. "It took me a while to get adjusted to all the craziness, so don't freak out. I'm sure you'll get used to it," She tried to reassure him.

"Do you need help with that tea, Haruhi-chan?" Y/n inquired, walking over and grabbing some of the cups.

"Bend down," The elementary boy gestured for Y/n to come down to his height. "What's with the mask?" He moved his hand to hover over her mouth, about to try and snatch the fabric to see what was underneath.

"Okay that's enough," Tamaki grabbed Shrio from the back of his jacket, pulling him away. "Shiro, why don't you take care of the tea set?"

"Y/n, you're looking very nice today," Hikaru commented, patting her head.

"Just give the set to the boy and let him do his training," Kaoru mentioned.

"Okay, just be careful, it's kind of heavy," Y/n told him, handing him the tray that Haruhi was once holding. Shiro quickly dropped it, the glass silverware and cups shattering all over the floor.

"It's not my fault I dropped it, it's her fault because she gave it to you, causing you to give it to me," Shiro said, pointing to Haruhi.

"Wait what?" Haruhi’s eyes went wide, shaking her head and raising her voice at the young boy's accusations.

"Excuse me?" Y/n asked, her opinion on the boy changing vastly. It was clear he was not a well-behaved child, speaking his mind in cases where he should be holding back.

"That's another one hundred thousand yen Haruhi," Kyoya added.

"What?" She fumed.

"Have that mask girl do it, don't girls love doing that? I'm not here to carry tea sets, I'm here to learn how to make women happy!" He snarled.

"Repeat that?" Y/n walked over by him, getting pulled back a bit by the twins.

"You won't get anywhere with that attitude. And I am not going to let you disrespect Y/n. So, put this brat in isolation!" Tamaki declared, pointing his finger at the boy.

"You got it, boss!" The twins popped up, fingers in the air, and soon enough a cage was lowered down, trapping Shrio.

"What's going on here?! Why'd you put me in a cage all of a sudden?!" Shiro thundered.

"I don't know if we can do this," Y/n muttered.

"Where did it come from? This is supposed to be a music room, right?" Haruhi's sweat dropped.

"This is no way to treat your loyal apprentice! Now let me out of this cage!" Shiro thudded on the bars. He tried to reach a hand through to reach something or someone, even though nothing was near his grip.

"Not until you've learned your lesson," Tamaki told him, sipping some tea. "I made you my apprentice because I thought you were serious about becoming a host, but I guess I was wrong."

"I am serious. Totally serious," He argued, not jumping around in the cage as much as he once was.

"Are we going to let him out soon, if word gets out we keep people in cages, our family businesses will be in trouble," Y/n mentioned, looking around to see if anyone else would do something. With no one making the move she just sighed to herself and went over to the couch to read a novel.

"I want you to teach me how to make a woman happy!" He exclaimed. "I'm going to run out of time. Please, won't you teach me? You're a host because you like girls, you like bringing a smile to a girl's face. That's why you do it, right? Please won't you teach me how to be like you?" Shiro begged. "You're a genius at it, you're the king!"

"Well, you may be a brat, but I admire your desire to become a host, so I'll teach you!" Tamaki decided. "You know Shiro, you and I are so much alike.”

"Here we go," Y/n looked up from her book to see the gleaming Tamaki, his pridefulness returned.

"Then you'll help me become a host that can make any woman happy?" Shiro grinned.

"Of course, making women happy is the sole purpose of being a host," Tamaki explained. "If this is what you really want Shiro, then you'll have to figure out how to use the material you already have.”

"What does that mean?"

"You see, here at the Ouran Host Club, our policy is to use our individual personality traits to meet the needs of our guests," Kyoya began. "For example, there's Tamaki, who is the princely type, strong silent type, boy lolita type, little devil type, cool type, and natural type," Kyoya showed, lastly pointing to Haruhi. "Now we are complete with Y/n, the special, caring type," He finished, the group now standing next to each other.

"Special, caring?" Y/n repeated

"It would seem that right now we have a perfect blend of characteristics, so it's going to be difficult to find a new type for Shiro," Kyoya confessed.

"If you go by his age, he should be the boy Lolita type."

"But Honey-senpai already has that covered," Kaoru told his brother.

"Is he going to replace me?" Honey worried.

"He's more like a tsundere type," Y/n mentioned, moving over by Haruhi.

"Oh, come on, is that all you got?" A voice wondered, soon motor noises were heard and Renge, once again, appeared from the ground.

"What's up with this place, it's supposed to be a music room," Haruhi voiced to Y/n, Y/n just shaking her head.

"Not all rich people's buildings are like this," Y/n commented. "Though at my house, we have a fish tank that comes out of the ground."

"Sorry to interrupt gentleman, but what's with the lackluster character analysis? I must say I'm quite disappointed, I thought I taught you better," She expressed.

"Alright Miss manager, how would you work Shiro into our collection of characters?" Tamaki queried. “He can't be the boy Lolita because Honey's already got that covered."

"You just don't get it, do you? Now listen up, there are plenty of girls out there who have a thing for younger boys or boys with baby faces," Renge told the group. "These girls would be considered Shota fans. Now, Shota can be a fairly broad category so it's important to know that the genre can be broken down into many different smaller sub-categories," She pointed.

"For example, shota fans with an interest in Lolita boys would favor a boy like Haninozuka-senpai," Renge told the boys, most of them listening carefully, Kyoya taking notes and Y/n peaking over to look at his notes. "But this little boy is different. If I had to pick a character for him... Yes! He'd be the naughty boy type without a doubt,"

"So tsundere?" Y/n voiced, looking at her friend who was currently trying to stifle a laugh.

"The naughty type?" Shiro repeated, someone blowing a whistle.

"Now to play up the naughty type, you should wear shorts," Renge bent down, noticing that he was wearing shorts, and she blew the whistle again. "You've got to have bumps and bruises, give him some scars!" She encouraged the twins who were putting bandages and drawing marks on Shiro.

"I don't think that Shiro needs to"

"Run like a spoiled child! Make it reckless!" Renge demanded. "Now I want you to trip and make it big!" Shiro ran and tripped on a rope, landing harshly. "Are you okay little boy? Now give them your catchphrase!"

"No big deal, it was nothing," He responded proudly.

"That was perfect! Absolutely perfect Shiro!" Renge beamed.

"That was outstanding," Tamaki clapped. "I never knew you were such a great coach, Renge."

"I've had enough of you people," Shiro yelled, gaining the attention of everyone. "This is so stupid, none of this is ever gonna help me make her happy.”

"Her?" Y/n pondered, watching the boy run away.

"Wait, Shiro! We haven't taught you how to apply the techniques you've learned yet," Tamaki called out to him.

"I swear younger boys are good for nothing. I went to all that trouble to coach him and he quits," Renge complained, disappearing back into the ground.

"I can't believe he ditched us just because he didn't like the lesson, what a selfish little brat," Tamaki ranted, clearly annoyed at losing his apprentice.

"I don't think he wanted us to assign him a personality. He had said 'she', he wants to impress a specific girl." Y/n tried to reason with the upset Tamaki.

"Also, didn't you hear him mention that he was going to run out of time," Haruhi added. "What could that mean?"

Soon enough the club came up with a plan. They knew that the young boy needed some help and they were going to be the ones to do it, after all, he needed help impressing a girl and that was the club's specialty. Their genius plan was to send in Y/n and Honey as students at the elementary school in hopes of finding out more about Shiro and the mystery lady.

"I don't get why I'm a part of this," Y/n whispered, pouting underneath her mask.

"It will be okay N/n-chan. It was so easy to sneak in," Honey reassured her, wearing an elementary school uniform himself. "And wearing this uniform, I look like I'm in elementary school."

"Yeah I agree, I get why they wanted you. But I don't get why they needed me, I don't exactly resemble an elementary schooler with my size. Not to forget that I'm wearing a middle school uniform," Y/n looked down at her dress, and moved a hand to feel her braid. Along with the new outfit Y/n also had to put some dark blush on her cheeks, putting it on the parts that could be seen above her mask. "I don't get the point of these disguises."

In front of the two club members, some actual students just peered at them in confusion.

"Oh there's a reason, a damn good one," Tamaki muttered before Honey grabbed onto Y/n’s wrist and helped lead her down the hall.

"Isn't she the cutest!" The twins adored.

"I don't think Y/n is happy about this," Haruhi commented.

"Look at her in that miniskirt, Y/n looks like a model," Tamaki admired.

"So, basically you just wanted to see her dressed up like that," Kyoya realized, watching Tamaki peek at the two 'undercover' members walking down the hall. Though Honey and Y/n weren’t easily seen since by then they had already made it into the classroom.

"This is it, Shiro-chan's classroom," Honey told her, opening the door.

"Okay, let's try not to cause any more attention than we already have," Y/n told him.

"When I was in elementary school, this was my classroom too!" Honey ran around.

"Wait, there is no one here," Y/n whispered to herself.

"So the kid's classroom is empty, is it?" Tamaki walked in.

"This surely takes me back," The twins reminisced, wandering around the classroom. The club members all walked around, looking around the desks, at the chalkboard, and checking out the bookshelves, they were reminded of their childhoods.

"I wonder if my doodles are still on my desk," Kaoru wondered.

"Doubtful, the school changes out the desks every year," Kyoya informed them.

"Every year, at our schools they keep the same ones. If we were lucky they would somewhat clean them," Haruhi mentioned, following after them.

"If you guys are just walking in like nothing, what was the point of us wearing these?" Y/n pondered, gesturing down to her uniform in annoyance.

"Don't worry about it," Hikaru voiced.

"There's no one here to catch us," Kaoru reassured her. But as if he had just jinxed everyone, soon enough they could hear the echoing of footsteps in the hall. In the assumption that it was a teacher, they all ducked down under the desks.

"If the teacher finds us," Hikaru began.

"We'll have a hard time explaining how we snuck in," Kaoru finished.

"This is why I told you guys we should wait outside," Haruhi scolded them, while the twins then commented back, now the three first years bickering.

"Be quiet, we don't want the teacher finding us," Y/n warned them, putting a finger to her lips. They waited a few silent moments before they could recognize that the footsteps had dispersed. Just to be sure, Y/n got up first and checked around before signaling everyone else to come out, "He's gone, but how are we going to find Shiro-kun?" She queried.

"Well, here's something interesting," Kyoya stated, looking at photos. The rest of the members surrounded Kyoya, all filing up beside him to look at what he had found.

"What did you find?" Haruhi questioned and in response, Kyoya pointed to a certain photo. "Hey! That's Shiro."

"So he's into classical music."

"He's also with a girl. Maybe that's the girl he was talking about," Y/n realized, turning around and looking at the group.

"There's Shiro-chan!" Honey pointed out to a classroom near the one they were in. He was seen talking with a girl before she had moved over to a piano bench to start playing. At the notice of another elementary girl from the same class exiting the classroom, Tamaki walked over to her.

"Excuse me, Mademoiselle," Tamaki started, catching her attention. "I've never seen a rose more lovely than you, my dear. Here, this is for you," He offered up the flower, bowing a little and then shortening his stance so they were more eye level. "I was wondering if you could tell me anything about that young lady playing the piano. Do you know her?"

"That's Kameeshido, Hina," The little girl told him.

"Her name is Hina?" Tamaki repeated.

"That's right, but you better not fall in love with her."

"Why?"

"Didn't you know? Hina has to move away soon. Her dad just got a new job in Germany, so they have to move there at the end of the week," She told him, waltzing away while smelling the pretty flower.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Shiro yelled. "I want you idiots to leave immediately!" He rushed over to where the group was, face as red as a beet. But Tamaki made no reaction, just picked up the smaller boy and put him over his shoulder. "Put me down! What are you doing? Ah!" Tamaki made no hesitation in making the way out of the building with the rest of the club following behind, still carrying the flailing boy.

"It's time to go, gentleman, Y/n,” He paused for a few seconds, turning his head around the best he could to peer at Shiro, “Quit thrashing around," Tamaki deadpanned.

Once they all finally made their way back to Ouran Highschool Tamaki had just plopped the boy onto the sofa.

"What is your problem, you big idiot!" Shiro snapped.

"I'm sorry, but you're the idiot. You said you wanted me to teach you how to make women happy. But that's not it, is it? You're not concerned with the happiness of just any woman. You've got your sights set on one woman in particular. You only care about one, and that's Kamishiro Hina," Tamaki objected. "When you care for someone, you must find the courage to express what is in your heart. You have to tell her how you feel about her."

"It doesn't matter anymore, I've run out of time. I just wanted to hear her play before she left for good, that's all," Shiro expressed, staring at his hands in his lap, refusing to make eye contact with Tamaki.

"That piece she played, it's Mozart Sonata in D major for two pianos, isn't it?" Tamaki wondered, walking over to a curtain in the corner and pulling it back to show a beautiful, shining piano.

Haruhi turned towards Y/n, "Wait a minute, since when is there a grand piano in here?"

"Well, this is a music room after all," Kaoru told her, shrugging his shoulders.

"So, why wouldn't it have a grand piano?" Hikaru asked her.

"It is a music room," Kyoya asserted.

"It is a music room," Mori repeated.

"It's always been there, we just had it covered up," Honey explained happily bouncing over to where the piano stayed.

"It's such a nice piano too," Y/n admired taking a few steps to the musical instrument herself. She placed a hand on the top, admiring the keys, and before reaching over to play one Tamaki had taken a spot on the bench. He peered up at the girl, a soft smile on his features, and began to play himself. Shiro watched Tamaki in his prime who was playing a mystical piece and taking multiple peaks up to look over at Y/n’s expression.

Whenever there was an ounce of free time Shiro would be right on the bench learning to mimic the rapid finger movements that Tamaki possessed, all working towards completing the goal of expressing himself to Hina.

It didn’t take long, with all the effort and time Tamaki had taken to teach the young boy soon enough he was prepared to play the piece himself. On a special day, the host club invited Hina to come to Music Room 3, dressing up for the young girl in anticipation of the cute moment that awaited.

"Welcome princess, we've been waiting," They all announced.

"I present to you, Takaoji Shiro’s piano recital," Tamaki introduced. He took Hina’s much smaller arm in his own, joining together at the arm, and pushed out a seat for her to sit near the piano and Shiro.

"Let's play together Hina," Shiro stated, and very happily the girl obliged. She pulled up her chair more to the other piano starting to play while he played his. It was a truly beautiful musical melody, the two kids glancing back at one another while passionately playing the piece. It was a comforting and rewarding scene for the club to witness. Just the two gleeful children indulging in some musical enjoyment.

"We did a good thing," Tamaki observed the two, with a smile on his face. Y/n looked at him, her eyes scrunched up a bit to show she was smiling underneath the mask. It was on this day she got to peak into Tamaki’s interior a bit more, he was a man who had such a large passion for guiding others.

"You did Tamaki-senpai, you aren't too bad," She laughed as a small blush appeared on his cheeks with a certain admiration sparkling in his eyes.

A week later Shiro came in to see the host club once again.

"So, you've been exchanging emails with Hina now that she's in Germany?" Haruhi inquired.

"That's great Shiro-kun," Y/n complemented.

"Yeah, I like her but she can get pretty jealous for an elementary school girl. She'd be upset if she knew I was with you ladies, so let's keep this our little secret," He confessed to the girls surrounding him on the couch and nearby chairs.

"Naughty boys are the best!"

"I could kiss you."

"Ah, you little brat, those are my guests!" Tamaki fumed.

"Well it looks like they have found someone they like better," Shiro voiced. "It was so easy to steal your customers, I think there's a new host king in town."

"I thought he'd make it through without exploding this time," Kaoru and his brother expressed holding down the blonde.

"We should have known he was gonna blow up sooner or later," Hikaru realized.

"I'm going to assume Tamaki-senpai was also a spoiled brat as a child," Y/n declared, making her way over to Kyoya.

"I was not a spoiled brat! I was nothing like him when I was a kid! I was a sweet, innocent, precocious, adorable child," He whined.

"Of course senpai," Y/n voiced sarcastically. "And I was living in a commoner's home growing up," To this comment the twins broke out in loud laughter.

"Wait what does that mean? Do you not believe me? Wait Y/n!"

next chapter - Jungle Pool SOS!

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serial-serializednovelreader · 2 months

Text

Nova’s Notes - North and South Weekly - Chapter 6

In which the Hale family says goodbye to Helstone….

The poem at the beginning, which is part of a larger poem known as In Memoriam, really sets the scene for a lovely place like Helstone and what’s it means to leave it. The larger poem’s theme is about understanding and working through grief — a fitting theme for this chapter.

“The rooms had a strange echoing sound in them,—and the light came harshly and strongly in through the uncurtained windows,—seeming already unfamiliar and strange.”

I love how Gaskell captures the surreal feeling of seeing a place you’ve lived in, now empty. It is strange to hear more echoes (due to the lack of furniture — acoustics, am I right?) and every room gaining more brightness from the windows with no curtains. When this happens, it feels almost as if you, in the simple act of moving furniture and other objects of living out, have removed all of the life out of it as well. It is a very strange feeling and it’s one I’m glad Gaskell touches on!

“Mrs. Hale’s dressing-room was left untouched to the last; and there she and Dixon were packing up clothes, and interrupting each other every now and then to exclaim at, and turn over with fond regard, some forgotten treasure, in the shape of some relic of the children while they were yet little. They did not make much progress with their work.”

I know they have work to do, but this is such a sweet image. And I’m glad Mrs. Hale is at least given a bit of time to look over — and think about — old memories with the children. It’s nice :) and relatable, I’m the same way with my old stuff lol.

“Down-stairs, Margaret stood calm and collected, ready to counsel or advise the men who had been called in to help the cook and Charlotte. These two last, crying between whiles, wondered how the young lady could keep up so this last day, and settled it between them that she was not likely to care much for Helstone, having been so long in London.”

Yikes, so once again, Margaret is judged by an expression she has on her face. As if everyone expresses emotion the same way!!! Also, Charlotte is the same maid who caught Margaret crying two weeks ago so…what about that? She obviously knew why (you can’t tell me she didn’t — news travels fast in a house as small as that, and I’m almost certain Dixon said something about that being the reason for crying), so it’s pretty unfeeling of them to judge her for not crying when she’s working to get her household moved practically on her own!!!

This also made me notice something: we’ve seen characters come to the wrong conclusion about someone else’s thoughts or feelings a few times now in this book, including our protagonist. Margaret is the only one so far who has rethought her judgement and came to the correct conclusion upon second reflection. I’m not sure if that’s going to be a running theme, but it’s something I want to keep an eye on! It’s definitely something that stands out to me about Margaret’s character and judgement, that’s for sure.

“They could not understand how her heart was aching all the time, with a heavy pressure that no sighs could lift off or relieve, and how constant exertion for her perceptive faculties was the only way to keep herself from crying out with pain. Moreover, if she gave way, who was to act? Her father was examining papers, books, registers, what not, in the vestry with the clerk; and when he came in, there were his own books to pack up, which no one but himself could do to his satisfaction. Besides, was Margaret one to give way before strange men, or even household friends like the cook and Charlotte? Not she!”

I love this peek into her logic for not crying. I immediately figured she was trying to keep it together in order to make the move go smoothly, but I always love her inner voice. She’s so determined and braver than I think she gives herself credit for :))) and interesting note that she won’t cry in front of her “household friends”. I’m probably reaching here, but could this be tied to when she was silenced by that maid all those years ago in Harley Street? Or simply because she won’t cry in front of anyone except her family? Hmm…

“a robin was singing,—perhaps, Margaret thought, the very robin that her father had so often talked of as his winter pet, and for which he had made, with his own hands, a kind of robin-house by his study-window.”

This is cute! And sad. It’s always the little things you think of when saying goodbye to a home :(((

“Margaret went along the walk under the pear-tree wall. She had never been along it since she paced it at Henry Lennox’s side. Her eyes were on that late-blowing rose as she was trying to answer; and she had caught the idea of the vivid beauty of the feathery leaves of the carrots in the very middle of his last sentence”

I know she’s been busy since Lennox’s departure, but her not coming back to this spot feels intentional to me…eep!

Also, love that she sees part of the garden and remembers a specific part of his conversation. Memories are so often like that and Gaskell is masterful at putting this relatable experience to paper. I once asked a professor why she enjoyed studying the classics so much, and she told me it was because she could sometimes feel like the authors were speaking to just her, across the time and space of so many years. This is one of those times I know just what she means!

“Even now, while she walked sadly through that damp and drear garden in the dusk, with everything falling and fading, and turning to decay around her, he might be gladly putting away his law-books after a day of satisfactory toil, and freshening himself up, as he had told her he often did, by a run in the Temple Gardens, taking in the while the grand inarticulate mighty roar of tens of thousands of busy men, nigh at hand, but not seen, and catching ever, at his quick turns, glimpses of the lights of the city coming up out of the depths of the river. He had often spoken to Margaret of these hasty walks, snatched in the intervals between study and dinner. At his best times and in his best moods had he spoken of them; and the thought of them had struck upon her fancy.”

I love how it’s a quirky little detail like this that Margaret touches on and thinks of fondly. I often wonder what my friends remember about the stories I tell them!

Suddenly, Margaret hears a “stealthy, creeping, cranching sound”. She “knows” it to be a poacher that she has no fear of but…

“to-night she was afraid, she knew not why. She heard Charlotte shutting the windows, and fastening up for the night, unconscious that any one had gone out into the garden. A small branch—it might be of rotten wood, or it might be broken by force—came heavily down in the nearest part of the forest; Margaret ran, swift as Camilla, down to the window, and rapped at it with a hurried tremulousness which startled Charlotte within.”

I can’t blame her: I’d be spooked too!!! I think this also speaks to the larger issue of Margaret no longer feeling comfortable here: with the house being unfamiliar all packed up, is it any wonder she finds the outside noises, once so normal, strange as well?

“Margaret sat down on the rug, partly to warm herself, for the dampness of the evening hung about her dress, and over-fatigue had made her chilly. She kept herself balanced by clasping her hands together round her knees; her head dropped a little towards her chest; the attitude was one of despondency, whatever her frame of mind might be. But when she heard her father’s step on the gravel outside, she started up, and hastily shaking her heavy black hair back, and wiping a few tears away that had come on her cheeks she knew not how, she went out to open the door for him. He showed far more depression than she did. She could hardly get him to talk, although she tried to speak on subjects that would interest him, at the cost of an effort every time which she thought would be her last.”

Poor Margaret! Here she is, so despondent and melancholy herself, yet the minute she hears her father, she immediately straightens up and tries to act cheerful for his sake. How long can she keep this up?

I’m going to put this through a neurodivergent lens again, but this time it’s more metaphorical. So, for many ND people, they often have to “mask” themselves in order to fit into neurotypical society. This can include things like eye contact, saying things they don’t feel, pretending to express an emotion they’re not actually feeling at the moment, and more. At best, it’s exhausting and uncomfortable. At worst, it can lead to questioning sense of self and burnout. Margaret is, more and more often, putting up a kind of “mask” and setting aside how she feels about leaving Helstone. She had to do it when her father initially told her, she did it for her mother (all day, no less!), then Dixon (when she interrupted her crying session), for the mover and her household friends (love that term fyi), and now for her father again. At some point, something will have to give way and she will need to express her real feelings. Luckily, she has been able to deal with some of her emotions in private, but she has been interrupted and forced to quell it every time, which is not good! I’m worried she’s going to burn herself out if she keeps this up.

Margaret asks what her father has been up to and finally gets an answer:

“‘I went to see Widow Maltby; she is sadly grieved at not having wished you good-bye. She says little Susan has kept watch down the lane for days past.—Nay, Margaret, what is the matter, dear?’ The thought of the little child watching for her, and continually disappointed—from no forgetfulness on her part, but from sheer inability to leave home—was the last drop in poor Margaret’s cup, and she was sobbing away as if her heart would break. Mr. Hale was distressingly perplexed. He rose, and walked nervously up and down the room. Margaret tried to check herself, but would not speak until she could do so with firmness.”

And so the dam breaks. I might have spoken a bit too soon, but it still needed to be said. Again, poor Margaret :(((((( I would be crushed at hearing this too!!! Mr. Hale, why are you surprised she’s upset??? Of course she’s upset!!! I guess he doesn’t understand how long she’s been holding it in. I just want to give her a warm blanket and hugs (if she likes hugs).

“She heard him talking, as if to himself.

“‘I cannot bear it. I cannot bear to see the sufferings of others. I think I could go through my own with patience. Oh, is there no going back?’”

So, the first time Margaret cried and then sadly wished for this to be a dream, you told her (basically) to get over it and that she needed to be brave, your mind was made up — and now you’re moved to change your mind??? What happened??? It’s a little late, buddy!!!!

“‘No, father,’” said Margaret, looking straight at him, and speaking low and steadily. ‘It is bad to believe you in error. It would be infinitely worse to have known you a hypocrite.’ She dropped her voice at the last few words, as if entertaining the idea of hypocrisy for a moment in connection with her father savoured of irreverence.

“‘Besides,’ she went on, ‘it is only that I am tired to-night; don’t think that I am suffering from what you have done, dear papa. We can’t either of us talk about it to-night, I believe,’ said she, finding that tears and sobs would come in spite of herself.’”

Margaret :((((((((( she’s right though, he’s spoken to the entire village of his plans at this point, to go back now would make him look pretty bad! Also, the need to tell him she’s not suffering from his choices…when we know the opposite to be true 😭😭😭 she’s too good for both of these parents sometimes, I hope they appreciate how good of a daughter they have. Don’t get me wrong — they have their good moments — but she is so kind and giving!!! And she seems to get so little in return for that at times, at least in this moment.

Also, yeah, I can tell she’s emotionally draining herself to the limit because she’s starting to cry despite her holding it in. Speaking from personal experience, that’s not good!

“A sting at Margaret’s heart made her strive to look out to catch the last glimpse of the old church tower at the turn where she knew it might be seen above a wave of the forest trees; but her father remembered this too, and she silently acknowledged his greater right to the one window from which it could be seen. She leant back and shut her eyes, and the tears welled forth, and hung glittering for an instant on the shadowing eyelashes before rolling slowly down her cheeks, and dropping, unheeded, on her dress.”

Again, another example of her being so selfless. Oh Margaret, things will get better :((((

“Poor Mrs. Hale had cried in her way nearly all day long; and Dixon showed her sorrow by extreme crossness, and a continual irritable attempt to keep her petticoats from even touching the unconscious Mr. Hale, whom she regarded as the origin of all this suffering.”

LOLLLL that’s so petty of Dixon. I could analyze this to oblivion but…you know what? I’ll let her have this one. It’s funny and doesn’t really harm anyone — Mr. Hale’s literally asleep.

When they get to London, Mrs. Hale is remembering all of the places the last time she visited, but she also points out to Margaret: HENRY LENNOX?!?!?

LOL, that’s so funny he’s just *right there* when she gets into London. Would some people call this cliche? Perhaps. I call it “seeing the exact person you don’t want to see/maybe do (it’s complicated) at the exact wrong time” phenomenon. It happens to everyone.

“Margaret started forwards, and as quickly fell back, half-smiling at herself for the sudden motion. They were a hundred yards away by this time; but he seemed like a relic of Helstone—he was associated with a bright morning, an eventful day, and she should have liked to have seen him, without his seeing her,—without the chance of their speaking.”

She’s so real for that. Keep the memory good, Margaret! Who knows what he would’ve said had he actually spoken to you.

“They alone seemed strange and friendless, and desolate. Yet within a mile, Margaret knew of house after house, where she for her own sake, and her mother for her aunt Shaw’s, would be welcomed, if they came in gladness, or even in peace of mind. If they came sorrowing, and wanting sympathy in a complicated trouble like the present, then they would be felt as a shadow in all these houses of intimate acquaintances, not friends. London life is too whirling and full to admit of even an hour of that deep silence of feeling which the friends of Job showed, when ‘they sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and none spake a word unto him; for they saw that his grief was very great.’”

Very true!!! “Laugh and the world laughs with you; weep and you weep alone”. You know who your real friends are because they will help you through times of grief, not treat you like a “shadow”. I think the fact that Margaret instinctively knows they would be treated that way at all of the places she thinks of tells me they’re not true friends and she knows that, even if she won’t fully admit it. And quoting Job to cap off the chapter is very telling of how grieved she feels!!

That’s all for this chapter (on time for once — yay!). Hopefully, they’ll have a bit of a better time in the next chapter.

#north and south #north and south weekly #margaret hale #henry lennox #novas notes

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rowdyhughesy · 2 years

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Start over - B.Brisson

“ But I promise you this, I'll always look out for you. Yeah, that's what I'll do. My heart is yours. It's you that I hold on to, Yeah, that's what I do. “

- sparks, Coldplay

Word vomit from my drafts. Enjoy

Never take no for an answer if you believe in something. It’s an advice that Brendan lived after, that you fight for the things you believe in.

Apparently that something wasn’t your relationship. The end of sophomore year also became the end of your almost two year long relationship.

The image of him standing there with his room packed up, clothes, random things he’s collected during college and himself. Tears running down both of your cheeks as he utters the words “I’m letting you go baby. It’s for the best.” It wasn’t for the best, not according to you. It was the worst.

Las Vegas took your best friend, other half, the love of your life away from you. So for that you will always hate the city that never sleep. Which makes it even worse that your friend group decided that you should go there for a break after midterms.

You were going to the city that took everything.

It had taken a lot of nagging and negotiation from your friends to even make you consider going. A lot of pep talks from the other Wolverines and with the promise that he wasn’t going to be in the city but in another state for a game it felt safe to go. So you did.

Bags packed and a good feeling you got on the plane and watched Michigan get smaller down below. Even though you had been apprehensive about going it felt good to get out of Ann Arbor, ever since you came back to Michigan all you could think of was Brendan. That he wasn’t there anymore but what hurt the most that he wasn’t yours anymore. Truss, Holtzy and Philippe had tried their hardest to make you forget about it and it worked for the most part.

It worked until Truss along with Dylan had the bright idea to set you up on a date. The guy was cute sure and almost funny but he wasn’t Briss and everyone knew that. It had all ended with you in tears in one of the hockey houses, crying about how you just wanted Brendan back while Philippe hugged you close and Truss apologised profusely. After that fiasco they’d decided to not meddle with your dating life again.

You just weren’t aware of the fact that Jacob and Holtzy had regular contact with Brendan about you and why he had decided to end it. But that was about to change thanks to the evil masterminds you call friends.

In reality you should’ve suspected something was going on because of the fact that during the whole flight your best friend had been on her phone. Fingers tapping away on the screen focused on a conversation she clearly didn’t want you to see. Which was odd since the two of you shared everything but not wanting to step over boundaries you stayed silent. Just focusing on the movie playing on your small screen or listening to music to pass the time.

Another suspicious thing you should’ve picked up on was that only you and your best friend climbed into the Uber, the rest of the group catching another cab and that the two vehicles went in completely different directions.

The Uber stopped outside of an apartment building, it looked brand new. With a glass door that leads to the reception with fancy furniture and a chandelier hanging from the roof. It felt far more expensive than two college kids could afford. That made the alarm bells go off inside your mind. What the hell was going on?

Grabbing your friends upper arm you drag her away from the conversation she was having with the receptionist. A look asking her wtf is happening which she only responds with a you’ll thank me later before she pushes you inside the elevator, pressing one of the buttons before the door closes in your face. Mind going haywire about what’s going on you starts pacing in the small space. Only coming back to reality when the elevator lets out a ding and the doors slide open. Looking up you feel your body go frigid and eyes widening in disbelief.

The only thought going through your mind being that you’re actually going to kill your friends as your gaze meets Brendan. His posture equally as stiff as your own but his face doesn’t have the same shocked expression yours does. Before your mind can process what’s going on your hand is already pressing the buttons trying to get out of the situation. But Brendan is faster as he slips through the doors before they close, pressing the stop button making the elevator come to a halt. Trapping the both of you inside.

“Don’t say anything just listen for a second. Please.” Cheeks heating up from the anger that’s starting to flare up you let out a snort at his words. He left you and now he just expects you to listen while he talks? Has he gone crazy. The stubborn part of you almost wins the internal fight but you don’t have it in you to say anything so you just stay quiet. Brendan takes this as a sign to talk because after that the words spill out of him like a waterfall.

“I know I made a shit decision. I know I hurt both of us when I broke up with you and nothing I do or say can take that back. I’ve almost called you a hundred times since that day. I really believed that it was the right choice to make, I didn’t want to be the reason you didn’t get to where you wanted to go. I didn’t wanna hold you back from what I know you can be. I was scared me not being in Michigan would tear us apart and just ending it felt like the easy way out, spare us all the fights that could’ve happened.”

Raising your hand Brendan snaps his mouth shut, waiting for you to either slap him silly or curse him out. Neither of those things happened. Tears now freely running down your face Brendan feels his heart crack seeing how much he’s truly hurt you.

“You did a shitty thing Brendan. It was supposed to be a discussion, not something you can decide for me, for the both of us.”

“I know that now and I’m willing to fight for this. If you still want me.”

“I could never not want you Brendan. But things can’t and will never go back to how they were you do know that right?” Brendan nods his head in understanding. The hopeful glint he had in his eyes before is fading away with your words. Even if things will never go back to how they were before he is still Brendan and you’re still you, he is still the love of your life and that won’t change.

“Good now how about we start from the beginning? Hi I’m Y/N.”

“Hey Y/N I’m Brendan and I have a feeling you’re my future wife.”

#brendan brisson imagine #hockey blurb #brendan brisson #nhl imagine

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deerabigailhobbs · 5 months

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Greetings and salutations good friend; I bring offerings of Adamgail-siblings thoughts!

So I was thinking about Adam going 'fuck this' and bringing Abby back home with him. Does he still live in the same shitty place, or has a boost in the popularity of his photos following his post-trap fame given him enough money to get a better place? Do they bring any of the Hobbs House furniture with them? Orrrrrrrrrr does he live with Lawrence, coming home after being missing for a week with no warning like "Honey I'm home, and guess what I brought back: your future sister-in-law!"

Whatever the case, we see a drastic change in the type of clothes Abby wears after episode one. Going from floaty more casual clothing, to a more compressed(i can't think of a better word) look. So what if after moving in with Adam, she starts to wear a more grungy look; quite a few people dress aggressively to warn away people, so maybe Abby could go for that to get randos to stay back to keep herself safe.

Her and Adam could maybe have a siblings bonding moment of Adam giving her a (probably not great) haircut and dye-job in the bathroom to make her look less like the pictures in the paper!

I like to think of the idea of a while down the line Abby meeting Danny from Saw 2 at a 'Teens who nearly got serial-killed support group' or maybe Adam met Danny at a survivors group and Danny stuck to him because 'wow this guy knows Scott Tibbs lead singer of Wrath of the Gods (the band on his t-shirt)' or at some point Adam was like 'hey I have a sister your age I think you two could be good friends'. or something.

Anyway, the end result would be the two meeting and becoming friends, perhaps bonding over their trauma a little bit. And then mayyyybe joining forces to create an angsty teen band where they sing songs about the fucked up things that happened to them!

Hope you're having a good day!

Hello! Very happy to see you in my inbox again friend! I'm a little sick right now, but happy to ramble about the siblings :D

I LOVE the idea of Abigail, Adam and Lawrence living together. I really think Lawrence would be fond of Abigail. Although Adam wouldn't say exactly why Abigail had come to live with them, he'd know the situation back home is dire. I can imagine him getting the house all ready for their return , asking Adam beforehand what Abigail's interests are. So when Abigail arrives she's greeted with a small bedroom full of art supplies, and a window facing the park nearby the house, which he delightfully explains to Abigail had all sorts of critters roaming around day and night. I'm sure this would not only warm Abigail's heart, but Adam's too. Knowing that his partner would care so much about someone so close to him would make Adam want to propose that very moment.

I like to think when Diana visits, her and Abigail would get on well. Abigail would finally know what it's like to be an older sibling figure. I can imagine her helping Diana with her homework or making food for themselves when Adam and Lawrence decide to go on a date night, which would consist of homemade pizza and ice-cream for dessert.

(now I've got a really cute image of Adam and Lawrence coming back home to a sleeping Abigail and Diana, snuggled up against the couch while The Little Mermaid credits roll <3)

Funnily enough, I'm planning on writing a part of my fic where Adam cuts Abigail's hair, but dyeing it is also a nice thought! I'm sure Abigail would be quite hesitant to trust her brother with scissors and hair dye, but surprisingly he knows his way around a head of hair. And paired with some new clothes Lawrence had bought her (no matter how hard she insisted she didn't need them), consisting of flowy skirts, loose tops, cardigans and jumpers/sweaters for the winter months, she'd really start feeling like her own person, not who someone wanted her to be.

I also love the idea of Abigail and Daniel (Danny) being friends! Especially since the only person we see Abigail interact with her age is Marrisa and her dad's victims. He'd think she'd like so cool with her platinum blonde hair (thinking of that one picture of Kacey rn) and they'd hit it off!!! In my opinion, if they were to start a band, I think Abigail wouldn't want to be front and centre, so I can imagine her taking up the drums, hidden away from everyone yet still soaking up the atmosphere. And of course for their first gig Adam insists on taking pictures for free (much to the jealousy of Scott) and he'd be so proud of her!

#aghhhhh i love them so much there's just so many different possibilities with them!!!#once again a pleasure to see you again friend!!!#abigail hobbs #adam stanheight #adam faulkner stanheight #lawrence gordon #daniel matthews #diana gordon #adamgail siblings #chainshipping #hannibal #hannibal nbc #nbc hannibal #saw #saw franchise #saw 2004 #asks

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walpu · 5 months

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The days following Arman’s death was a few many quiet ones.

The staff room was devoid of the cooking economic’s professor’s chatty laughter, rambling about how they had come across something cute and peculiar.

The class was silent as well. Without their co professor teaching them alongside Veritas, no more fun in the lessons.

Veritas, Veritas. Oh, how he refused to see anyone for days on end.

Never in his career did he ever take a break or off day.

He was gone for a month.

He spent the first week lying in bed. Staring blankly at the empty side of the bed.

When he saw Arman in that coffin, it felt like he was just sleeping. One good smack from his codex would wake him up and getting all hissy.

But it’s no use. No matter how many times he shakes him, begs him to wake up, he’s still.

The second week was hellish. He frequently saw things, furniture around the house that made all those memories far too vivid.

From their first kiss. To their first date.

From the moment the paramedics pronounced him dead, to the moment they covered his body and carried his love away.

Those eyes.

Oh, those soft, olive gold eyes.

They looked so lost.

He will never see them lift up again.

The third week was when his emotions were running far too high and far too low.

He regretted so many things.

He’d had a fight with Arman hours prior to his fall, yelled things he shouldn’t have said. And that was the last thing Arman heard him say.

Fucking pathetic. The last thing Arman heard from his stupid mouth was not even an apology. Not even a ‘I love you.’

He ran out of tears to cry at that point. Why cry when all it does is to make the void in his heart. His house, ache even more?

The last week was better, barely.

He’d spent it sleeping. Sleep was essential to getting better. But sleep also let him feel the sweet taste of nothing for a while.

It let him dream. Dream that Arman would be beside him when he woke up, soft blue hair splayed around him like a gentle halo.

It was also when he saw THEM.

He’d been shocked. He’d been relieved.

He called out to THEM.

And THEY only looked at him with pitiful confusion.

I am sorry. Arman is no longer standing before you.

Then he’d woken up in a cold sweat.

He was crying. The tears were hot on his cheeks.

Damn it.

He misses him so much.

(Ratio proceeds to obsess over SU just to catch a glimpse of Arman again)

(He also specially asked Trailblazer to talk with THEM.)

(He doesn’t care what Herta, Screwllum, hell, he wouldn’t even listen to what Nous says. He just wants Arman back.)

RATIO MY GUY IMAGE SO SORRY

#Arman

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unluckyhoneybee · 2 years

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Hi, it’s sad Danny hour so… would you write something where reader takes Danny to a rage room after the last race to help him feeling a bit better and after he smashed everything he breaks down and y/n comforts him. Something best friends to lover also, if you can🫶🏻 thank you so much 🙏🏻

Note: I got scared when I read the sad hours thing and ran all over the internet looking for bad news. Don't scare me like that.

He put his mask on and grabbed a hammer. Then, he turned to look at you.

"So. I can smash everything. Like that?"

You nodded and grabbed another hammer. "I'm here for emotional support"

"Let's get to it"

He never thought destroying a full room would be so freeing. When he destroyed the first TV, he felt like screaming. He looked at you and you nodded. You lift your hammer and hit it as hard as you could against the wooden table, then you looked at him and nodded. You both shouted. You did it on the top of your lungs and were left almost put of breath.

You two spent a good long time in there. At some point, it was you throwing plates and glasses at him and Daniel hitting them with a thick stick. Just as if you two were playing baseball in someone's kitchen.

He had forgotten about anything else. He was barely thinking. He was just letting go as you had said. At some point, you were running out of things to break. There was just a last piece of furniture. He looked at you and made a gesture. He was offering it.

"No, Dan. This was all for you." You said running your hand up and down his back. "Just close your eyes, concentrate, and think of that awful orange car"

He did. He thought of the car. The races. The dnfs, the P18, P19 positions, the strategies, the lies, the bus full of junior drivers his boss had waiting for his seat, the people, the media, the future. And meanwhile you watched.

He was full of anger, rage, when he hit the wood for the first time. It made you shiver the way he growled and shouted, how he cursed and how you could hear him pant and gasp for air. Then, when there was nothing more than broken pieces on the floor, he straightened his back and shouted one last time, a loud Fuck that was too familiar. It brought that images of him walking back to the garage on his Red Bull years.

Then you saw his knees shakes and he dropped the heavy hammer.

"Oh Danny" You whispered. Two steps and you were standing right behind him. Another one and you hugged him and leaned your head between his shoulder blades. He took his mask of and covered his eyes. He was sobbing and he couldn't control himself. He grabbed your hand with his free one.

You simply let him cry. That's why you had taken him there, for letting all those emotions he was bottling up.

You put his hand on his chest, right above his heart, when you felt him loosing the control of his breath almost got out of control. You felt his heart under your palm.

Soon, you made him turn around and he didn't thought twice. He hugged you and cried in you. Again, you just hold him.

"Let go, Dan. Let go". You whispered and kissed his temple "I've got you"

"I love you" He whispered. Those words took your breath away for a second.

"Y-you... Love me?"

He nodded and pulled back to look at you.

"Hey! The time is over! Pay more or leave!" The owner of the place opened the door.

"Fuck off, mate. I'm confessing to my girl" He said turning around and looking at the guy.

My girl.

"Pay!"

"I will!"

You laughed and watched how the guy left groaning. Then Daniel turned his attention back to you. His hands were shaking when he cupped your face.

"Where was I?"

"Somewhere about confessing to your girl"

He smiled and blush crept to his cheek.

"Well... Yeah. I love you a lot and I was waiting for the season to end but..."

You kissed his softly and he hummed in pleasure. Literally pleasure because any kiss he had given had felt like this. Anyone had made him feel like this. He pulled you closer and deepened the kiss, dragging his tongue between your lips and playing with yours.

When you pulled away, he was smiling.

"I love you too"

He hugged you again and you laughed when he squeaked in happiness.

"Thank you for all of this" He told you.

"It's nothing"

"It's the coolest solution everyone has given me"

You smiled and kissed his cheek.

"I knew it would work"

"It did. Really well, actually" He whispered before leaning and giving you a deep kiss. "Now... Let's get out of here and have some dinner."

You smiled and nodded happily. It had turned even better than what you expected.

#daniel ricciardo #Dr #Blurb #F1 #Fluff

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skloomdumpster · 2 years

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I made myself cry writing my last prompt fill so I'm going to be a gremlin in your inbox. Andreas/Saul/Sebastian + "why don't you put something pretty on for me?"

dont cry Pen!! Have some gremlin garbage

(sorta not safe for work)

----

Sky isn't coming home for Yule and albeit, Beatrix is, Saul also hasn't seen his daughter in about five days. Her bed has been made for five days, so when Sebastian asks him if he "and the missus" want to spend the 7th night of Yule with him, Saul has no reason to say no.

He's expecting Andreas to scoff at the request, it's no secret that there's no lost love between Andreas and Sebastian, but his husband is in a sullen shitty mood lately and he lights up at the invitation, which sends alarm bells ringing through Saul's skull.

He doesn't like Andreas hating his friends, but he likes the prospect of them being in cahoots together even less.

Sebastian's place is nice, he's got no partner, roommate, pets or children, so all of his money circles back to him and gets spent in incredibly comfortable furniture, a spacious - although lonely - flat, high tech lamps that turn on at voice command. It's self indulgent in the best way, a bachelor waving his lifestyle in front of their eyes all night.

Andreas' is in a better mood than he's been all week, hand lazily resting on Saul's thigh and chuckling here and there at Sebastian's jokes, refraining from his rude and gruff commentary by only raising a judgmental eyebrow when Sebastian mentions he traveled to the depths of Kilwell to get the roast pork recipe they're eating right now.

Saul exchanges an amused glance with Andreas, silently communicating he's not crazy, he can see Sebastian is putting on effort to try and impress them.

Impress him, he realizes when Sebastian dismisses Andreas' attempt of conversation, eyes locked on Saul's face.

"So you were saying, Saul?" he asks eagerly, as if Silva's slightly tipsy rant about the direction Alfea is heading on is the most interesting thing he's ever heard in his life.

"I was saying I don't think the donations from the alumni will be enough this year, we might need another fundraiser..." he tugs at the collar of his sweater, keenly aware of the fact Sebastian is looking at him like he's a meal, but most importantly, that Andreas is not red in the face and huffing like he does when he gets jealous, but watching. Amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips, swishing the whiskey around his glass, one arm thrown over Saul's chair.

"We could do that" Sebastian agrees, overly eager, "I'll call up my contacts in the morning, we could set up a meeting with Artie- Forgive me, with the prince..."

Andreas raises an eyebrow at Artie, says nothing. Saul's blushing, as if he's the one making a fool out of himself flirting with a married man, not the opposite way around. He's starting to feel trapped.

"Saul?" Sebastian calls, sounding unsure, "did I say something wrong?"

Next to him, still with an arm thrown over the back of his chair and legs spread out, glass in his free hand, the image of coolness, Andreas turns his head to look at him, smile dancing in his eyes, "Silva?"

He sounds so smug and so amused.

"What is going on here?" Saul squints at him, then back at Sebastian, "what are you two up to?"

Since when do these assholes talk?

Sebastian splutters, looking so shocked and floored by Saul's implication that for a second the older man feels bad for his accusation. That is, until Andreas is leaning in, planting a kiss on his neck and tracing up his nose, until his lips meet Saul's ear.

"Sorry, I did not have time to wrap it" he says in a teasing manner, "I hope you'll take my yule gift anyways."

Saul looks at him, eyes wide, heart racing - cock pressing against his slacks in an uncomfortable manner and he knows that Andreas can already tell he's half mast, it's like that man can sniff his boners, always had.

"Andreas-"

"I can put a bow on my head if you'd like," Sebastian says, sounding like he's about to burst open with smugness, all sarcastic sharp smiles "Andreas said lingerie would be overkill."

Saul looks between his husband and his long date friend, ex lover. How many nights he had rolled in bed with Sebastian, during those painful sixteen years where he thought everything had gone to hell, and buried his face on his skin? How many nights he had spent with Andreas, after his grand return and wanted to fess up to it all, say last we fucked you were the only one who had ever touched me, but now I'm an adult, now I know everything I love.

How many fantasies-

And Andreas, the jealous, possessive brute that he was, was giving him this. Sebastian served up on a plate, ready to share, ready to compromise, to make any filthy thought come true.

He squares up, collects the morsels of dignity and self confidence he let slip in the last two hours of this play pretend dinner and levels Sebastian with a glare, "Andreas is often wrong. Why don't you put something pretty on for me?"

#saundreas #fate the winx saga #fate: the winx saga #i regret nothing #otp: hand in unlovable hand

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syeunko · 3 months

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Boston homecoming

I looked back at my unfinished goodbye post for Boston from two years ago now, and I had this Joan Didion quote in there: "a place belongs forever to whoever claims it hardest, remembers it most obsessively, wrenches it from itself, shapes it, renders it, loves it so radically that he remakes it in his own image.” Then I'd written, "Boston belongs to me."

Which is 1) not true and 2) funny because I left Boston. And I most definitely did not remake Boston in my own image. But I'm back now! Like Colin said, "The prodigal daughter returns..."

On Monday, Bella picked me up from the airport, smiley and bubbly as per usual, wearing the matching green shirt I'd gotten for us to wear when we moved into 372 McGrath. It was a full circle moment.

I had my first meal at 223 Pearl St in my empty room, on the floor, with Junwon. It felt right, though it probably shouldn't have.

Sam (and Junwon, but mostly Sam) built my very complicated furniture. In the pictures I took of them assembling my furniture, Sam is hunched or huddled over the instruction manual or the furniture parts. The posture reminded me of how Sam had earnestly prayed for me during my last MNP I cried through before I left for NY.

On Thursday, I went to the Symphony July 4th picnic, where I saw Kevin and Grace. Seeing them - my spiritual anchors and my closest friends - felt like I had really, truly returned to Boston.

I met up with Glo on Friday afternoon. When I left Boston, I remember feeling disappointed we wouldn't be able to capitalize on our friendship potential. While catching up, Gloria said, "I didn't expect you to come back." I responded, "I didn't expect you to still be here." We agreed that we were both glad that I was back, she was still here, and that we could hang out more.

Afterwards, Yeojin and I had dinner at home. With Yeojin, I become more extroverted, expressive, and open, probably because she is so introverted and quiet. I decided during our surprisingly lengthy conversation I like her a lot. I like watching her reactions and large doe eyes process things in real time, and I think I'll learn a lot from her.

In true Allison fashion, we (including Alex) grabbed a nice brunch on Saturday. I love them so. They are so amusing (Allison) and cute (Alex). That is all.

Christine graciously cooked me a roasted salad for dinner, which we ate with Alisha. I definitely felt my old(er) age, but it was nice feeling like I was in college again; our conversations were extremely frivolous yet extremely entertaining.

I spent all of Sunday with Esther. After lunch, I cried and sniffled at her in a cafe, where she suddenly slapped an open water bottle in a failed bug assassination attempt, and water splashed everywhere. We laughed so hard (I think I have the most deliriously stupid yet glorious laughs with Esther), and then I cried again when she offered to keep me company for the rest of the day because I was so sad. How lucky am I to have a friend like Esther - "my heart is vibrating with tenderness."

Today, I walked to MNP for old times sake. It took me an hour and twenty minutes. I stopped at the bridge Hanna would always force us to take selfies at, and I took a shy solo selfie in remembrance (idk why I'm acting like someone died). To me, MNPs are like showers: I never feel excited about them but I always feel better afterwards. Kevin led worship again today. Him leading is my favorite not only because the worship is objectively the best but also because it's so comforting. Esther and I got to pray together; "Thank you God that we get to pray together in this moment!"

After we shared and prayed with each other, Esther said, "The way you speak kind of reminds me of Job." She opened up the bible and pointed to "Job Continues: My Life Has No Hope." I just about died laughing. Alas, such are the overdramatized and over-romanticized lives of Enneagram 4s. She is currently at my desk finishing up a discussion post as I write this, and I am reassured again by her presence.

That about sums up my first week back in Boston. It had so many good, sweet moments, but so much sadness too. I miss Duke and my family a lot, which is bittersweet. In some ways, being back in Boston is exactly what I'd imagined, but also nothing like I'd expected it to be, and I feel a lot of grief in that lost hope. But I shall still trek along in hopes and with gingerly-held faith that things will only get better from here. I'm home!

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divasanddementia · 6 months

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Why I GIFT Mamas Nurses on Christmas & Throughout The Year!

Why I GIFT Mama’s Nurses on Christmas & Throughout The Year! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SAthwuCq9cU I admire anyone who desires to do this work for a living. I love taking care of my mom and the other residents, but I wouldn’t want to do it for a living. Although they are paid to do a job, they deserve all the praise! Shower time is especially hard! I still pitch in at the facility and help with mama’s showers, but it is no fun! This journey is a mixture of challenges requiring patience, love, and understanding. ✨Dark Clouds, Strong Hearts: A Family's Journey Through Storms. Uncover Their Story. To explore more, visit now https://ift.tt/qiNxwEm ✨Discover favorites and essentials in caregiving and beyond — visit Crystal L. Bass's Amazon Shop today: https://ift.tt/BLVkTti This video is about The Ups And Downs Of Dementia. But It also covers the following topics: Creating Memories With Dementia Dementia Care Challenges Love And Dementia Care 🔔Join the journey of hope! Click subscribe to be a part of a movement to transform caregiving and the fight against dementia into moments of joy and connection. https://www.youtube.com/@divasanddementia4925/?sub_confirmation=1 ✅Important Link to Follow 🔗 Crystal's Books https://ift.tt/6jdOmID ✅ Stay Connected With Me. 👉Instagram: https://ift.tt/AcbR6mK 👉Tiktok: https://ift.tt/ou1begn 👉Website: https://ift.tt/FGQVdBP ✅ For Business Inquiries: [email protected] ============================= ✅ Recommended Playlists 👉 Memories with Mama https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAgmdINExzI&list=PLg5XuJmn2LOIAjnD9nlyonC9LrDKoJqSM&pp=iAQB 👉 Sassy https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZRCyMFo7T0M&list=PLg5XuJmn2LOIDhAeYJKtOzicLhWLlphCb&pp=iAQB ✅ Other Videos You Might Be Interested In Watching: 👉 Caregiving is like... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o-nBsq53YxE 👉 No time for TEARS! Dementia requires STRENGTH! 💜 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YGXX-Mazqbg 👉 Mama STAYS on the move! 💜 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mgDXodLyQQc 👉 Quality time stimulating Mama with patience. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7pEar3th6Qo 👉 💜Mama loves moving furniture, rearranging & "cleaning". https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XctrwLVCVDU ============================= ✅ About Divas and Dementia. Welcome to "Divas and Dementia," a heartfelt journey shared by a daughter dedicated to her mom's care in the face of Dementia. My channel brings you into the daily life of love, laughter, and the realities of caring for a loved one in a memory care facility. Through daily visits, I keep the spirit alive, ensuring that loneliness and forgetfulness are kept at bay. Dementia might challenge me, but it brings unexpected moments of joy, thanks to Mama's vibrant personality. Join me to normalize Dementia and spread awareness with a touch of love. For Collaboration and Business inquiries, please use the contact information below: 📩 Email: [email protected] 🔔Join the journey of hope! Click subscribe to be a part of a movement to transform caregiving and the fight against dementia into moments of joy and connection. https://www.youtube.com/@divasanddementia4925/?sub_confirmation=1 ================================= #dementiacare #familyoutings #patienceandlove #dementiadaughter #creatingmemories #caregivingtips ⚠️Disclaimer: I do not accept any liability for any loss or damage incurred from you acting or not acting as a result of watching any of my publications. You acknowledge that you use the information I provide at your own risk. Do your research. Copyright Notice: This video and my YouTube channel contain dialogue, music, and images that are the property of Divas and Dementia. You are authorized to share the video link and channel and embed this video in your website or others as long as a link back to my YouTube channel is provided. © Divas and Dementia via Divas and Dementia https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCrcbzuAF0cFTSAE2a4_VcrA April 04, 2024 at 01:36AM

#dementia #funny #mom #granny #family #memories #memorycare #patience

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lettersfromthewind · 1 year

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Hey lovely! Can I join you exchange game?

Intuitive things for you:

First thing I heard was career change for you or something in your workplace will change - feels like a big difference from current

Possibly new boss or coworker

money flow increasing - possibly a gift or a raise. Something unexpected.

I heard the song “this is what falling out of love feels like” - JVKE. Something feels off regarding love life, a shift will happen. Unexpected. Causes you to soul search and focus on yourself

your gonna be bettering your self, more self love and confidence - something I feel like your struggling with!

Messgae you need to hear “you a good enough” and “you deserve better” - feels connected to love and self image! Lots of love Kate ❤️ let me know if it resonates!

Wow thanks so much! These messages did resonate with me, especially the last two, so thank you again🤍

Here’s what I’m seeing for you:

I kept thinking of cotton candy. Pastel pink and blue. Standing on a boat, feeling the kiss of the wind and the slight splash of water on your face. A sigh of relief as all your worries drift away. I also saw a door that was blocking my way. There was really no way to get past it and it wouldn’t open. A literal blockage. Seems like there’s some work you need to do. Maybe some chakra work.

There’s a void it feels like. Feels like there’s something your soul is searching for. Or waiting for. There’s an energy of continuously waiting and not receiving any results. Of course there’s the message urging you to “be patient,” but I honestly hate hearing someone say that because it can be extremely frustrating to hear that lol.

“Loneliness does not last forever.”

“Grieve if that’s what your heart desires”

If you’re angry, let that anger out. Punch a pillow, shout out if you must, but don’t let it dwell inside for it to slowly eat away at your soul.

Yellow.

Journal your thoughts. And then burn them?

Black hole. Being sucked in.

Not feeling anything. I see someone lying down in an all white room. No furniture just an all white room. No thoughts even. Just blank? Why do you hide your emotions away? Don’t numb yourself.

“What makes you happy? Are you allowing yourself to find what truly brings you joy? Or are you going to continue to plaster that fake smile on your face and keep telling yourself that you’re okay? How much longer will you endure this?” Ooof sorry that was kinda mean but it’s what kept coming through.

I’m sorry but I kinda felt all over the place doing this reading. Like there was so much to say but I couldn’t quite finish each thought because I’d get a new message coming in.

I’m not sure if this will resonate honestly because I felt all over the place but please let me know if at least some of it did!

Thank you for participating 🤍

#spiritualityprincess #free tarot readings #free intuitive reading #free intuitive messages #an eye for an eye reading

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between-the-lines-fic · 3 years

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Between the Lines - Bruno Madrigal (Modern AU) Chapter 8

Summary: Bruno Madrigal is a popular telenovela writer, though he keeps his identity secret under the pen name Pedro Oscar. You just happen to be a big fan of his who’s doing their laundry while a telenovela plays in the background.

Pairing: gn!Reader x Bruno Madrigal

Words: 2,534

Warnings: None!

Chapter count: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 (More to come!)

Available on: AO3

You sigh, wiping down your face before you shiver ever so slightly. Bruno eyes you with a worried frown, and he sighs as well. “Lo siento. Let me, um… get you some dry clothes. I think I might have a shirt or two that will fit you…” he wrings out his hair with his hands, and water splatters on the ground.

“Really? Gracias, that would be great,” you reply, brightening at the idea of some warm, dry clothes. As fun as running through the rain has been, you can safely say that soggy, chafing clothes don’t hold that same charm. You suppress the urge to shiver again. Why did Bruno keep his apartment so chilly?

When you glance back up, you find Bruno staring blankly at you for a moment before he clears his throat and nods, slipping through a nearby door into what you assume is his bedroom. Which leaves you awkwardly standing near the front door, looking around.

It’s honestly a pretty small place, barely more than three rooms. One room, you assume, is Bruno’s bedroom, while the room you currently stand in feels like a mixture of a living room and dining room. Dimly lit by flashes of the storm outside the large window, the living room consists of a grey couch flanked by a pair of coffee tables, a large tv on the floor, a high seated table like the kind you’d often see in Senor Pepita’s restaurant, and a record player. The furniture fits together easily enough, but something strikes you as particularly strange about the various bits and pieces that make up Bruno’s apartment.

They all seem to be thrifted. Which, considering how much “Pedro” makes, is pretty odd. Wouldn’t he at least want a matching set? But, as you consider Bruno’s day-to-day particulars… well, it fits, doesn’t it? Each object, though old and a bit mismatched, is clearly loved. For the public idea of Pedro, it doesn't make sense, but for Bruno, it fits like a well worn poncho.

And also covered in disposable coffee cups, but who were you to judge?

You lean over to the light switch, flicking it upwards to try and get some more light in the room. The wall lamps flicker and swell with a comforting yellow glow, almost like candlelight. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that the place feels more like a cave than an apartment, dark walls and sparse furniture lending Bruno’s home a sense of solitude. Comfortable solitude, but solitude nonetheless.

It seems to branch off further to your left out of sight, most likely a kitchen? You peek around the corner, arms folded in an attempt to ward off the chill that clings to your skin as you move through the room. His kitchen is just as sparse, though admittedly cleaner than you expected. Your sweeping gaze catches a bowl of mangos, the same mangos from just a day before, and an indescribably warm feeling swells up in your chest despite your infrequent shivering.

“Eh… Y/N?”

You jolt, turning to see Bruno stepping out of his room, one hand clutching a shirt and a pair of shorts, while the other ruffles his wet hair with a bath towel. Water droplets sway everywhere with each movement of his hand, and a different kind of warmth rushes to your face. He’s changed out of his more formal attire, now in a pair of grey sweatpants and a graphic tee that sits baggily on his frame. Printed on the front is the image of a gardening hoe, and the words “hoes love my gardening.” You clear your throat, offering a slight smile as your heart swells and chokes up your lungs.

“Do you want to use my shower?” he continues, blessedly oblivious. “I already grabbed some clothes for you, but, uh… it’s probably better if you get warmed up before you catch a cold.”

“... Yes, actually. Let me just call Abuelo, I’ll let him know that I’m safe.” You gesture vaguely around the apartment. “Where’s the phone?” Bruno hums, and your eyes are drawn to his throat, where rainwater slowly drips across his adam's apple from the vibrations. “It’s by the record player.” You nod with a little more force than necessary, quickly shuffling away from the very distracting person in front of you to pick up the landline and dial the shop’s number.

Ring, ring, ring.

Ring, ring, ring. “Eh? Who is this?” Paulo picks up, and you try not to groan in despair, or pray for salvation.

“Ah, it’s… uh, it’s me, Paulo.”

“Amigue? Oh, it’s good you called, your abuelo was worried sick when the rain started coming down. Did you make it somewhere safe?” You hear shuffling behind you, and you strongly resist the urge to glance behind.

Focus, focus.

“Yeah, I’m safe. We didn’t make it to the set, but Bruno lives nearby, so we’re hunkering down until the storm passes.”

“Amigue, that’s not until six AM.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll probably… sleep on the couch or something.” The shuffling pauses, but you still don’t turn around.

The line goes silent for a moment, and you almost hang up until you hear what sounds like muffled laughter. Heat floods to your face once more, and you hiss into the receiver, “What Paulo, what-”

“Be responsible-” he wheezes.

“I will - I mean- if we did, of course, I would, but we won’t-” you begin to splutter, and you can almost feel your soul leaving your body, “just- just tell Abuelo I’ll be back tomorrow morning!”

“Whatever you say amigue-” Paulo purrs, and Dios, when you see that fool you are going to knock his lights out-

You shove the telephone back on the receiver, perhaps with a bit more force than necessary, because Bruno is staring at you with wide, worried eyes.

“I…” you clear your throat. “I’m going to go take a shower, now.” Bruno nods, staring at you with that look that you can’t quite decipher despite having known him for almost half a year.

“It’s the, uh, door to your right, there,” he offers, and you hurry into the bathroom and shut the door behind you, shucking off your cold clothes and gingerly removing the lilypad pin to set it on the sink top. After a moment of deliberation, you turn on the shower until the water is steaming, hopping in. It takes a good ten minutes or so for you to wash the rainwater from your hair, and frankly, the water is so warm you almost don’t want to leave.

Should you use his hair product? It probably won’t be doing your hair any favors if you leave it as is, and his hair always looks so soft…

After a moment’s pause, you squeeze some shampoo into your hands, running it through the strands until you’ve sufficiently lathered up, rinsing it out moments later. It’s scentless, which is a nice bonus. You consider the conditioner as well, turning the bottle over in your hands as the warm water runs over your shoulders. It smells like sandalwood, reedy and warm, but it’s probably best if you don’t try it on your hair. You set the bottle back down, shutting off and stepping out of the shower.

… Well, your clothes are wet. After some investigating, you find a few extra towels in the closet, wrapping one around yourself before peeking out the bathroom door. Left at the doorstep is a folded shirt and pair of shorts, which you snatch in a heartbeat to slip on. They’re both a bit baggy, and the waistband is snug on your hips, but… well, they’re comfy.

They smell like sandalwood and a hint of coffee.

You flush, quickly scrubbing the water out of your hair with your towel, and you step out of the bathroom. You’re just feeling warm from the shower, is all. You find Bruno sitting on his couch, watching the TV with a grim frown.

“Bruno, you look like someone just died,” you say, eyebrow raised. He blinks, startled before he lets out a nervous laugh and brushes drying curls from his eyes.

“Oh, I’m just watching the weather. Don’t mind me. And, uh, you can take my bed, for the night. I’ll probably take the couch. Or just work on my scripts,” he rambles, patting the stack of papers beside him on the couch’s armrest.

You narrow your eyes. “No, it’s your home, Bruno. I’m not kicking you out of your own bed. Either I take the couch, or-” and he peers right back at you, and before you can think the words are leaving your mouth, “we can both sleep in the bed.” You peek in the room, and yeah, the bed is pretty wide. Plenty of room for two people.

Bruno stares blankly at you, and a beat of silence passes before he glances away. “... sure. I’ll just be up for a bit, so you can head to sleep first if you’d like.”

“... alright. But you’ll wake me up if anything happens?”

He makes a face, but nods. You nod in return, satisfied with the answer, and pause before his room. Bruno gives you an encouraging thumbs-up, and you offer a sheepish smile before heading inside.

The first thing you notice is how cozy it feels. Blackout curtains cover each window and drape around the room like fabric waterfalls, enclosing the area like a soothing cocoon. Little trinkets line the room, vinyl records and glass ornaments are strewn about, little sketches of pigeons and places hung about that you recognize as models of the sets on some of your favorite telenovelas. Once again, it strikes you in the gut, Bruno wrote ‘Los Pilares de Arena destrozados,’ 'La Visión viva de la Esperanza y el Futuro,' ‘Ojos Esmeralda y Corazones Rotos,’ and more, and you are sitting in his room, wearing his shirt, and about to sleep in his bed-

Nope, nope, nope. That is a panic meant for tomorrow you. You push some curtains aside, crawling into Bruno’s bed and wiggling beneath the sheets. It really is a large bed, and you almost feel dwarfed by the pillows and comforter.

It smells like warm stone and sandalwood.

But never mind that. It’s been a long day, and despite the rush of heat to your face, the bed is… really comfortable. Closing your eyes, you slip into slumber, the tension melting from your shoulders as you sink into the mattress.

–

You wake up blearily, and it’s hard to tell what time it is. Squinting through your blurred gaze aside at the nearby clock, it reads 2 am.

Bruno still hasn’t entered the room. With a grunt, you roll out of the covers and slip towards the door. Weirdly enough, you hear music. Maybe he’s playing one of the records? It sounds like one of the old operas that Abuela used to listen to when you were younger.

Wait. Is he singing? You crack the door open, peeking out the crack to see Bruno sitting at his higher table, clacking away at his laptop while the record player croons out a soulful orchestral song. He’s got his hair tied up out of the way in a loose bun, a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose, dark circles only deepened by the harsh glow of the screen on his face.

He just looks so… relaxed. The music rises and falls in a soft crescendo and his mumbling hums follow, a soft smile curving his lips as he rumbles through the words.

“La donna è mobil'. Qual piuma al vento, muta d'accento e di pensier'!” he echos the recording, and though you can’t understand the words, something about it brings a hint of a grin to your face. Softening your footsteps, you slip over to the couch and settle on the side just out of Bruno’s eyesight so you don’t interrupt him.

“È sempre misero, chi a lei s'affida,” Bruno grows a little louder, before seemingly remembering himself and wincing, lowering his volume. “Chi le confida, mal cauto il cuore…”

It’s not hard to close your eyes and listen to his voice, and the couch is just so warm…

–

When you open your eyes again, you’re back in bed. Which doesn’t make sense, you reason as you look over, given that you were listening to Bruno-

He’s asleep beside you in the bed. A good distance away from yourself and turned away, but fast asleep. Foolishly, warmth rises to your face once more, and you almost roll over, only for Bruno to roll onto his back. Your breath catches in your throat as he moves, but he doesn’t wake, his chest rising and falling just as steadily as before. His curls frame his face like this, some falling in front of his eyes and it takes every fiber of your strength to not brush them out of his face. If he was relaxed before, this is him at peace.

You wish you could see him like this more often.

He shifts again in his sleep, one hand reaching out across the bed and falling just within your reach. They look weathered and soft all at once, the creases in his palms soft, though his fingertips look calloused. Without even thinking, you silently trace patterns into his hands, light enough that he doesn’t seem to stir.

Would it really be that bad of an idea to lean towards his arms right now? You’re sure that his chest would be comfortable to sleep on, and he probably gives good hugs with those long arms of his and-

Suddenly, you’re very awake. You freeze in place, staring off into space before looking back at Bruno’s sleeping form, mortified. Your eyes trail his every movement, shame keeping your body stiff. That is literally the worst idea you’ve had all week, and you would never do that because that betrays the trust that he’s placed in you by letting you sleep in his bed, and-

His eyes are open. When did his eyes open? You’re still touching his hand.

Why isn’t he pulling away?

Bruno stares at you for a long minute, and neither of you move. Slowly, his hand closes around your own, and when you don’t pull away, he offers a faint smile that crinkles the crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes. Then his lips press thin, and he looks away before turning the rest of the way over and holding out his other hand, arms outstretched to you. An invitation.

“If you… if you want, I can hold you,” he offers hesitantly, soft voice still thick with sleep.

You can’t breathe. But you try your best, letting out the air that has been trying to burst from your lungs for the last minute. “As long as you’re okay with it. I… I know my friends and family said a lot, but you don’t have to-”

He cuts you off with a quick shake of his head. “I want to. But are you-”

You interrupt him in turn, scooting across the bed to slip into his arms, closing your eyes.

Sandalwood, coffee, and stone.

He’s warm.

#bruno madrigal #bruno madrigal x reader #encanto bruno x reader #bruno madrigal x oc #encanto bruno #between the lines fic #encanto au #happy holidays ya filthy animals /j #but yes hello the author is soft and so is bruno #healthy consent and healthy boundaries plus pining is *chef's kiss*

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missluckycharms · 3 years

Text

You, Me and Harry make three. Part Two.

Summary: Joey, Izzy and Harry are in a poly relationship. They're head over heels for one another and they can't seem to keep their hands off each another, even when they really need to.

Harry is the Harry Styles, the man who is known for being so open and lovable. He's nervous to let the world see his girls, what would his fans think If he was dating two girls at the same time? And they all shared the one bed and home? He doesn't want to know, he wants them all to himself.

This small story follows the three and their rendezvous together behind the scenes.

Masterlist.

Part One.

Warnings: Switch!Harry, Mommy kink, slight Daddy kink, FxFxM threesome, fingering, oral sex f+m receiving, Male + Female penetrative sex, Female + Female sex, spanking, choking, hair pulling, sneaking around (?) masturbation and mentions of it, degradation kink, praise kink, dirty talking, anal play, biting, polyamorous relationship.

A/N: Izzy and Joey are OCs! Their features will be discussed in this, if you don’t want to envision them how I write them, feel free to use your own images of them! I hope you’ve enjoyed them as much as I have! Harry Joey and Izzy are now my new babies, and I will protect them with my whole heart 🥺

Word count: 5.3k.

—

"This place is amazing!"

"If singing on stage gives you this, sign me up for your supporting act H!"

Harry smiles and laughs watching his girls, the pair in awe running about the Italian villa he owns, hidden away amongst shrubbery and gated security, no one only Harry and his team know about this villa, it's a very secret location that Harry has done all he can to not let people find this place. It's not as grand as you would think it would be, a millionaire rockstar having a smallish Italian villa decorated mainly in old vintage Italian furniture, is not something you would hear of very often, most singers would have penthouses with the latest technology and fast cars in the driveway — not Harry, he would take this small secluded villa with a vintage convertible in the driveway over a multi million dollar penthouse with a Lamborghini in the front.

"Recognise the decor?" He asks as they both walk back in, their sunglasses pushed up into their hairs and their summer dresses flowing above their knees, their smiles bright and their arms linked as they look at Harry before them.

"No way! It's the theme we suggested for this place! Look Iz, it's the painting you suggested we buy in the art gallery last time we went to France!"

Joey says tugging Izzys arm and pointing at a large painting on the wall behind the dining table, the silhouette of a woman laying on a sofa with fabric draped over her, the sofa situated on a balcony as the sunset casts down onto her making her dark against the painting, the sunset the main focus as the arch of the balcony door in the golden hues of the sunset seeping in around the room. Harry fell in love with it in the gallery the last time they all took a trip there, Izzy grabbing his hand and pulling him towards where it was being showcased as Joey chatted to the artist about another piece that caught her eye. Harry loved the way Izzy was in awe over this work of art, he knew instantly he needed it somewhere personal and private for them all, he knew this villa he was had being done up would be the perfect place for the painting.

It was all perfect, and Harry loved it.

"I think she looks like Jo, that's why I loved it. See? The curves and the way she's laid out — confident and beautiful, it's our Jo!" Izzy says sweetly, causing Joey to kiss her head and nod for Harry to join them, the three of them all hugging and looking up at the painting, Izzy squished in the middle as Joey and Harry hold onto her with love.

"I think, we should have a wine and pasta night — right way to start our vacation, mmh?" Harry asks kissing the two girls heads, the pair looking at him with all the adoration in the world, his white goggle glasses pushed into his curly hair, his long sleeve white and navy shirt on his torso along with linen white trousers on his legs accompanied by scruffy vans with pink laces on his feet, he looked like art — if they could, they would chose him as the painting for the wall.

"Are you cooking it? Mister pasta chef?" Joey asks teasing him by brushing her nose off his, the pair close to one another as Izzy rests her head on Joey's arm looking at Harry and Joey tease one another with little kisses and lip bites filled with small laughs and breathy moans.

"I'll try my best, how about you two clean up? You both must be worn out and sweaty from our trip here" he says with a wink, kissing the two girls before disappearing off into the kitchen, a near skip in his step as he smiles heading to make dinner for him and his girls.

"I think he was jealous of our bathroom trip" Joey says as Izzy laughs blushing a little, Joey wrapping her arm around her shoulder and kissing her forehead many times as they walk and laugh towards their bedroom, the bathroom awaiting them — much like the bathroom in Harry's private jet did.

As the girls fill up the bathtub, giggles and lavender filled bubbles kissing their skin as they share time together, soft innocent touches and jokes passed back and forth as they washed one another and kissed showing affection amongst many small cuddle sessions that always ended up with Izzy plastering lavender bubbles on Joey's face when she closed her eyes to relax, Joey retaliating with splashing water at Izzy as she fights back, their laughs echoing around the villa as Harry smiles to himself, his music playing not being loud enough to block out their laughs.

The kitchen is dimly lit, candles filled the space as his record player spins an old Fleetwood Mac vinyl of his, the sunset casting a slight hue through the back doors of the villa, the curtains framing the glass doors blowing slightly in the summer breeze of Italy. Harry is humming while stirring the pasta, his body filled with warmth and excitement as he prepares the meal, sauce in a pan while he cooks the pasta, flour on his apron from when he tried to make pasta from scratch from a recipe book he bought the last time he was here alone, this is the first time he's brought his girls here — it's safe to say, he'll never come here alone again, it's meant to be filled with laughs and the smell of pasta cooking while Fleetwood Mac dances around the aroma scented villa, Harry knows he can never come here alone again.

He would never want to come here alone again.

"Is that meatballs I smell?" Izzy says skipping out into the kitchen, her hair damp and Harry's black vintage Pink Floyd on her body, a pair of his boxers on her legs as shorts as she nearly dances into Harrys arms as he holds them out, turning them both so they're facing the stove, his hand stirring the sauce and meatballs with a wooden spoon as Izzy cuddles into him.

"Here, take a taste — we all know you're the meatball connoisseur" Harry laughs, holding up half a meatball covered in tomato sauce filled with herbs and spices he found. She leans forward and wraps her lips around the end of the spoon, her tongue lapping up all the sauce along with the meat as she pulls away looking at him with furrowed brows as she tastes it, swishing it about and gathering up all the flavours he's added in.

"Good?" He asks nervously, her silence deafening as she smiles, leaning over to lick the remainders off the spoon while holding eye contact with him.

"Your sauce always tastes nice, H" she says kissing his neck, holding eye contact with him as she spins around and heads back towards the bedroom, his mouth slightly open as he watches her leave, her small frame disappearing as he gulps while turning his attention back to the food.

"How's our boy getting on?" Joey asks brushing through her hair, Izzy watching her in awe sitting behind her on the bed, Joey's eyes on her in the mirror as she sits at the vanity smiling at her.

"Dancing to Stevie and making dinner, he's okay" she giggles as Joey smiles, leaving down her hairbrush and joining Izzy on their bed, another one of Harry's t shirts on her body also, a white Rolling Stones t shirt, small holes in the neck and hem of the shirt from how long Harry has owned it and wore it. Harry is obsessed with seeing them in his clothes, always telling them to wear his shirts around the house when they're all alone — he loves seeing them wrapped in his things, claiming them as his and only his.

"We should feel bad for letting him cook alone" Joey says leaning over Izzy, straddling her waist as her chin knocks against their forehead gently to signal for her to lay down, her brown damp hair fanning around her head as Joey rests above her, smiling down softly at her as they bask in one another's presence in the warm golden hue of the lamps on the bed side tables.

"He insisted, he loves to cook" Izzy says sighing when Joey connects their lips, Izzys hands coming up to cup her face as Joey holds onto her thigh with one hand and cradling her head with the other, her nails scratching at her scalp as Izzys thighs lock around Joey's waist and holding her against her more as they kiss slowly and passionately, the pair smiling and worshiping one another as they listen to Harry softy sing in the kitchen cooking them all dinner.

They're all in bliss, their safe haven being their only escape from the world and the only time they can all be alone and show one another how much they care for each other. Sure they have their alone times in hotel rooms and back stage, but it's nothing like being locked away in a villa in a country that isn't demanding Harry to be on talk shows and random small interviews here and there, it's a place where they can just relax and not care about the beady eyes of the public and Jeff banging down the doors demanding Harry being at a certain place. This is the second vacation all three have spend together, the first being in Spain and now they're here, they've all preferred secluded small villas to grand luxurious hotel suites looking over the whole City of Venice.

The small villa with two gardens filled with flowers, trees and a small patch where Harry said he would one day grow his own vegetables if he gets to stay here that long, he wants to grow his own food to be able to make authentic dishes for his pasta loving girlfriends — this villa is enough for him, and he would never want to have a luxurious life filled with money and expensive clothes and furniture that probably would break if you touched it, Harry doesn't want that — he wants a vintage decorated villa, filled with flowers out front while Stevie sings around the building on vinyl as his girls laugh, almost in tune with every song as he cooks and treats them like he wants to, treat them like his lovers — and one day, like his wives.

"Came to get you two for dinner, but looks like you're getting to dessert without me" Harry says from the doorframe, his body leaned on it as he stands with his flour covered apron, a smile on his lips as the girls pause and look at him, Joey nearly between Izzys thighs as they laugh and blush looking at him.

"Come on, dinners served Madams!" Harry jokes leading them both to where he's set up, the back garden is filled with fairy lights, the bushes and trees decorated in the small lights as the table sits in a small patch of grass amongst all the high bushes and trees, shielding them from any prying eyes that could be near by.

"I think we're underdressed for this" Joey says looking at hers and Izzys current states, the pair only wearing Harrys t shirts and his boxers as shorts, Harry beside them with a stained apron and his clothes from this morning when they flew over.

"Who says? Tonight, I actually decided the theme is half naked and drunk on Italian wine" he shrugs leading them to their chairs, the girls smiling and laughing as the places one kiss to their lips each, their smiles never fading as Harry excuses himself, leaving his girls under the fairy lights as they look around in awe at the garden.

He soon strides out, only in his long sleeve shirt and boxers, dishes in his hands filled with their meal as the pair laugh and cheer in excitement and also whistling for their boyfriend who's half naked dishing them their dinner, his confidence sky rocketing as his girls take him in, complementing him and his food as he passes out a plate to them, leaving one at his place at the table as he wanders back inside, Izzy shouting about how his bum looks while Joey laughs about how "biteable his British bum looks" Harry will never get tired of her saying that to him.

Their dinner is filled with laughs, complements thrown at Harry for his cooking and wine filled jokes and stories about their times together, Izzy acting out how Harry first reacted to Joey using a strap on, on him and Joey acting out how Harry drunkenly tried to sing for the two, half naked and using a shampoo bottle as a mic as the pair sat half asleep in the bed, their boyfriend after waking them up by belting a mashup of any song he could think of at three in the morning in their hotel room — it's safe to say it's one of their favourite memories together even if Harry only half remembers it.

Their tipsy jokes and random touches has lead them to their bedroom, Harry tied up to the headboard as Joey straddles Izzy at the end of the bed, the pair putting on a show as Harry whines and rattles his hands against the handcuffs to try and break free to touch them, his underwear suffocating his erection as he watches the girls fully naked touching and kissing one another, clearly getting off on how Harry is reacting to watching them, his body covered in sweat as he whines and curses into the air.

"You can whine all you want baby boy, but you're ours tonight, you do as you're told, got it?" Joey says as she pants slightly, Izzy suckling on her nipples and kissing her breasts as Joey speaks to Harry, her eyes on him as he bites his lip and nods obsessively at her.

"Yes, yes I'll do as I'm told" he says as Joey smiles, grasping Izzys hair in her fingers and pressing her face closer to her breasts as she keeps her eyes on Harry, knowing it drives him wild when she does this.

"Yes who?" She says as Izzy reacts to this also, her small whines coming out in tune with Harrys as they both curse and look at Joey with glassy eyes and their full attention on her.

"Yes, mommy" Harry says slowly, his head foggy and only focused on Joey and Izzy, his body feels like jelly as he smiles lazily and bites his lip watching his girls please one another in front of him.

"Good boy" she hums out, taking Izzy off her breasts lightly and laying her down on her back, her eyes on the small girl as she smiles in response, her bottom lip between her teeth as Joey lowers herself, kissing her body as she goes lower and lower towards where Izzy needs her most.

Harry is whining and tugging against the handcuffs as Joey eats Izzy out, Izzys own moans coming out and mixing in the air with Harrys as Joey feeds off their reactions, Izzy falling apart on her tongue as Harry falls apart only by looking at them, he's pretty sure he could cum just by looking at them — it's happened before, both girls ended up loving it and he ended up loving being humiliated by the pair as he whined into their mouths with his underwear filled with his own cum in the back of a limo on their way home from an event, the windows tinted but they all love the thrill of being found out as they're all on top of one another in a limo.

"Look at him Iz, getting hard by looking at you getting your pretty cunt ate" Joey says pulling away to slip her fingers into Izzys cunt, coaxing her towards her second orgasm of the night as Izzy moans and squirms about on the bed, much like Harry is at the top of the bed, his arms clattering in the metal against the headboard as Joey holds eye contact with him as she dips back down to suck at Izzys clit.

"Please, let me touch you both, mommy please" he whines as Izzy moans out loudly, her second high washing over her as Joey licks and laps up her release with a smile kissing her thighs as she rides her through her high, the pair glistening in sweat as they pleasure one another before their boyfriend who's about to fall apart watching it all.

"Mommy, Haz wants go touch himself" Izzy speaks up, Joey worshipping her body as Izzy looks at Harry clenching his own thighs together, trying anything to get some relief as he's restrained to the headboard.

"Should we let him? Let him touch his cock and watch us have some fun?" Joey says looking at Izzy who's pleading for Harry, needing to see him touch himself as Joey smiles at her.

"Alright baby girl, you let Haz out and I'll get our special toy we love, okay?" She instructs Izzy who's crawling towards a frustrated Harry who's covered in sweat and needing someone to touch him. She lets him free with the click of a key in the lock of the cuffs, Joey grabbing hers and Izzys favourite toy from their toy bag they bring with them everywhere — it's a double sided blue dildo, Harry loves it when they use it before him, they even face time him and use it while he's away on his own, his hand tugging at his cock as he watches them through a screen falling apart on their favourite toy.

Harry is loving it, watching them now in person, holding onto one another as they use the dildo together, their clits brushing off one another's as they move along the toy, Harry being instructed to touch himself but not to cum, Joey insisting that he be edged until she can finally fuck him. The girls are whining and moaning as they brush up against one another as they move, one of Joey's legs up on Izzys shoulders as both of Izzys legs hug Joey's waist while Joey's other leg rests around Izzys back holding her up against her body a little, preventing her from falling down in pleasure.

"Look so good, gonna cum all over myself just by looking at you both" Harry moans out, his hand lazily stroking his cock as Joey laughs while biting her lip looking at him, Izzy moaning away as Joey holds onto her, rocking their lips back and forth as they please one another.

"Yeah? You gonna cum all over yourself like you did that night in the limo? Poor baby couldn't even hold it in, came just by watching his girls make out" Joey teases him as Harry whines at her words, loving how she humiliates him yet again, his hand squeezing his cock to prevent himself from cumming just by listening to the words falling from her swollen plumped up lips.

Both Izzy and Joey fall apart on the toy, Harry nearly cumming along with them but when he earns a slap to his thigh by Joey he soon collects himself and tries to hold it off in the hopes that he gets some action too, the curly haired man coated in sweat biting his tongue to hold off on saying the wrong thing that could lead to him going to sleep hard and frustrated while his girls sleep peacefully around him, content and satisfied.

"Think he deserves to have his ass played with Iz? Think he deserves to have Mommy's tongue in his hole?" Joey asks as Izzy smiles lazily at her, the pair now kissing and laying beside one another on the bed as Harry watches them with pleading eyes.

"Yes mommy, he's been a good boy for you, want to watch you eat his hole" Izzy sighs out as Joey kisses her hard before slapping her Sensitive cunt with a laugh earning her a squeal and laugh from Izzy in return as she scurries up beside Harry, Joey watching as Harry whines into Izzys mouth as they kiss desperately.

"Good girl, giving Harry your pretty lips" Joey hums sitting in front of the pair, leaning over to brush Izzys hair out of the way as her and Harry whine into one another's mouths, tongues and teeth clashing as Joey observes them with a smile over how submissive the two of them are for her.

"Been such a good boy H, think you deserve my mouth. On your knees, and put that pretty ass up in the air" Joey instructs him, Izzy breaking away from him as he jumps into position, his head against the sheets as Izzy sits in front of him, brushing the curls from his face and littering small kisses all over him as Joey slaps his ass a few times to rile him up even more.

"Such a pretty hole. Desperate for it aren't ya baby boy? Clenching around nothing" Joey hums out as she runs her thumb over his hole, hearing his whines against the sheets as Izzy smiles and cooes at him while Joey bends down, running her tongue over his hole as he clutches onto the bed sheets.

"Doing so good mommy, Haz is tearing up over your tongue. Does it feel good?" She says to Joey and then looking down at Harry who now has his head in her lap, his cheek against her thigh as she runs her thumb over his cheeks soothing him as he desperately squirms under Joey's touch as she licks into his hole behind him.

"Feels s'good, fucking hell" he moans out loudly when Joey finally slips her fingers into him, the bottle of lube being discarded onto the bed beside them as Harry holds onto Izzys thighs while burying his head in her thighs also, moaning loudly from the pleasure as Izzy holds onto him, making eye contact with Joey every now and then as she happily licks and fingers Harry's hole just how he likes it.

"That's it baby, take mommy's fingers" Joey moans out watching as Harrys hole takes her fingers like nothing, his moans loud as she curls them up and hits off his prostate which sends him into a frenzy, his cock hard and leaking between his legs as he fights off his orgasm like Joey is demanding him to do, his thighs being slapped everytime she knows he's close to letting go.

"He needs to cum so badly mommy, can he cum?" Izzy asks Joey innocently, her eyes glassy and her lips swollen from biting down on them watching Harry fall apart as he rests his head on her thighs, his eyes looking up into hers as he silently pleads with her to ask can he cum.

"He's not cumming until Mommy puts her special cock into his hungry hole" Joey says through gritted teeth as she moans out watching as Harry squirms and moans for her, pleading with her to let him cum as they all look desperately at one another.

"Gonna go and get our special toy baby, Izzy keep our boy company" Joey instructs as Izzy bends down to engage in hers and Harrys own quiet conversation, small laughs and whispers heard amongst kisses as Joey smiles fondly, gathering up her strap on and pulling it up onto her as Izzy showers Harry in delicate kisses as he basks in all the attention, loving the adoration all over him.

It's only a few more minutes before Harry is losing his mind on the bed, his hands clutching onto Izzys thighs as she rubs his back and runs her fingers through her hair, Joey behind Harry pounding into him with her strap on as she praises him to no end, Harry loving the praise and attention as he gets ruined by his two girls.

"You love this, don't you? Getting fucked in the ass, wonder what your fans would think if they knew this, Harry Styles begging to be fucked in the ass and desperate to cum" Joey says which causes Harry to moan out loudly, Joey's hand joining izzys in his hair as she pulls on his hair erupting a growl from his chest at the feeling.

"Bet they'd all go crazy knowing you love to call me Mommy also, they'd love to know how fucking desperate to cum you get and how needy you are for a cock up your ass" Izzy moans at Joey's words also, the pair getting off at her words as she gives it her all, her hips snapping up against Harrys as his cock rests on the sheets rubbing off the soft cotton with each thrust of her hips.

"They'd also love how he likes to be called daddy, right mommy?" Izzy joins in on Harrys humiliation, his lazy smile up at Izzy as she joins in, almost proud of her as Joey holds the same smile, their quiet girl being vocal in bed is something they love, they know how hard it is for her to be like this, so when a few filthy words slip from her lips they both beam at her like she just learned how to talk for the first time.

"That's right Iz, they'd go crazy if they knew what a whore our baby boy is in bed, how kinky he really is and how much he loves to be man handled by his girls" Joey says as Izzy beams happily at her, the girl proud of herself for making them both smile and for speaking out loud in bed, especially when her words earned her a moan from Harry that sent shivers up her spine over how desperate he sounded.

"M'gonna cum, harder mommy please!" He begs out as Joey pounds into him harder, Izzy immediately reaching under his hips to grab his cock as Harry catches her nipple in his mouth, her breasts in his face as she strokes his cock, his moans vibrating through Izzy as Joey moans watching them both moan at one another at the head of the bed.

Joey's hands dig harder into Harrys waist, his ass jiggling as she pounds into him from behind, his body coated in sweat as her red hand prints are clearly visible on his cheeks from earlier, his body shaking as he nears his high, toes curling against the sheets as Joey doesn't stop moving, her own body coated in sweat as she puts power behind her thrusts to get their boyfriend to cum, every thrust she sends into him causing the dildo to brush against his prostate sending him into a frenzy.

"Pump him harder Iz, he's almost there, aren't you baby boy? Gonna cum all over Izzys hand and the sheets, yeah?" Joey asks as Harry moans out with a nod, his hands desperately gripping onto Izzys thighs and his mouth sucking her nipple as Izzy moans out at the feeling, stroking his cock faster and harder, Harrys hand rutting against her hand and the sheets.

"Fucking him so good mommy, come on Haz, cum for me and mommy" Izzy spits out as she moans at the feeling of Harry sucking on her nipples, Harry finally letting go at the sound of her dirty talking, it's not expected from her but when she doesn't spit out a few curses or dirty words it sends him and Joey over the edge, their innocent girlfriend talking dirty is something they never knew could make them crumble so quickly.

"Thank you mommy, thank you, thank you" he slurs out when Joey pulls out, his head of curls resting on Izzys thighs as she pulls the curls from his sweaty forehead, her fingers separating each curl from being matted together with sweat as Joey cleans off the dildo and runs to get a wash cloth to clean him up — Harry having his own washcloth, a light blue one, Izzy having a lilac one while Joey has a dark purple one, each one of them having their own colours.

"I know bub, just bare with me, just need to clean you up" Joey cooes out while wiping his hole and cock, Harry hissing and groaning over how sensitive he is right now, his lips kissing small kisses over Izzys thighs as Joey smiles at their small interaction.

"Did so good for us H, need to come back to me now yeah?" Joey says as Izzy kisses his face to try and coax him out of his sub space, his eyes hooded and tear filled as Izzy tries to help him come back.

"Mommy, thank you" he slurs out which causes Joey to throw his washcloth into the laundry hamper and crawl up beside him and wrap her arm around his back, flipping him over so he's half laying on each of their laps as they look down at him.

"No H, it's Joey now, come back to me, come back to Joey baby" she says soothing him quietly, his eyes falling closed before his mind finally clears of the fog that filled it, his smile wide in his blissed out state as he begins to come back.

"M'back now" he mumbles out as the two girls laugh a little, kissing him as he smiles lazily wrapping his arms around their thighs as they rest against the headboard with Harry in their laps.

"Think it's time for a bath. H, you follow Izzy and she'll get the bath ready while I clean up in here, okay?" Joey says instructing them all once again, the pair disappearing into the bathroom, Harry having to be held up by Izzy which was comical to watch, her small frame trying to keep his tall one up as her head rests on his bicep trying to guide him.

Their small conversation and laughs are heard from the bathroom, the water running and the smell of Harry's favourite lavender bath salts filling their noses as Joey pulls of the messy sheets, pulling on some new ones and quickly joining her babies in the bathroom, the pair now in the bath and splashing one another with water, Izzy resting against Harrys chest between his legs as they leave a space in front of her for where Joey usually sits, Izzy usually being sandwiched between the two as they all relax together.

"Room for one more?" Joey asks which causes them all to smile, remembering how she said those exact words when she saw Izzy and Harry making out across the room in the club two years ago, from then on, they never once regretted saying ...

"Always room for one more"

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