#but that doesn’t stop them from admiring and drooling from a distance

[crimsonkenjii-writes]

Dilf Giyuu 😵‍💫😵‍💫

[onsomenewsht]

I like it in the city when two worlds collide

About when she’s her hometown hero and you wish to fill your own home

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader

》 words count: +1.5k

》 be like a kid in a candy store [phrase]: to be very happy and excited about the things around you, and often react to them in a way that is silly and not controlled

Admiring Alexia as she builds her foundation, little piece after little piece, it’s honestly one of the best things you had the privilege to witness her achieve. Sparks of excitement radiate every time she talks about it, every time new ideas are brought out or new steps forward are made.

You’ve been next to her since the very beginning, since it was all just a desire to make an actual difference for the next generation of girls in football.

And you’re next to her today, as it comes alive in her hometown.

It’s so beautiful and meaningful, your heart beats with pride.

“Nice speech, have you ever thought about a future in politics?”

“I can’t think of anything worse”

Alexia welcomes your hug eagerly, taking a moment between your arms to ground herself after all the talking and the smiling.

She’s happy, she truly is. But she also needs to stop for a second and just feel that happiness.

“I think your mama is one step away from building you a statue with her own bare hands”

The Catalan bursts out laughing, looking at her mother. Eli is beaming with joy and pride as she speaks with one of her old teachers, who somehow finds himself here to support her project the same way he supported her football dream back in the day.

“We’re all really proud of you, Alexia”, you say, holding her hand between yours to make her understand how much she has done. The beautiful impact she has on the one close to her and the one who shines from a distance because of her light.

“You say it all the time”, she dismisses as her cheeks turn a little more red under the praises and the Mollet sun.

“Yeah, I need to keep feeding your ego or you’ll die without attention”

“Idiot!”

The jab is light and mocking, you know how she feels about the running joke.

It goes back years, you weren’t even dating yet, but the teasing way you compared her to a fairy who can’t live without people believing in them sticks. The Barcelona’s captain keeps denying the comparison, you know she secretly loves your way to show admiration and support.

“Come on, I think they’re teaming up the kids and I want to make sure Eloise is with you”

“I don’t play favouritism”

She does, but you’re not wanna call her out for having a soft spot for your best friend’s daughter.

The walk toward the makeshift sports ground set up for the occasion is short, filled with stops to talk with people, hug excited children of all ages and shake hands with even more excited parents.

It doesn’t take much to put in place a little tournament, Alexia plays in the second round and you somehow find yourself involved too. You’re just glad the unfortunate kids who have you on their team do most of the work, allowing you to move around and look busy.

The odds are even in your favour when you find yourself alone in front of the goal and all you have to do is kick the ball into the back of the net.

You make sure a certain blonde athlete is looking when you mock a little bow.

From that is a blur of laughs and jokes between you and all the people who came here to support Alexia and her foundation, never stepping out of your role of a proud girlfriend.

When it’s her moment to get involved in the game, you are in the front row with the best view, always happy to see the footballer in her element - doesn’t matter if it is a stadium filled with a screaming crowd or an improvised kickaround with a soft ball and energetic kids.

And the kids are, indeed, full of energy and burning with excitement to play with an actual two time Ballon d’Or winner. They remind you of her.

“You’re drooling”

“I’m not”, you talk back, annoyed, yet unconsciously swiping your lips.

You’re not gonna dignify your best friend with a better answer, keeping your gaze fixed on the Catalan. You love him dearly, Teo has been your rock for years now, but he can be such an asshole.

“You know your own goddaughter is playing too, right?”

“Elo’s really good”

“She’s just doing whatever Alexia is doing”

It’s cute how much the young girl looks up at the footballer. Not just for the incredible and dedicated athlete she is, but also for the amount of care and attention she always reserves for the kid whenever the two are together.

It warms your heart every time.

“Do you think she is gonna let them win?”, Teo asks, genuinely wondering.

You only grin at his question. Alexia is not gonna let those kids win just because, doesn’t matter how adorable they are.

“She’s way too competitive”

“Those are children!”

As an answer, your girlfriend fakes a pass on her left, letting a boy, not older than ten, slide in the wrong direction and completely miss the ball. You notice as she tries to hide a smile behind her hair, finding another kid with a precise long shot.

Little shit she is.

“She’s way too competitive”, Teo confirms, giggling with you when your girls celebrate the winning goal.

“You can practise parenthood tonight if you want”

“I’m not babysitting so you can go out with that brunette you’re seeing”

He almost looks offended by your assumption, but you know him well enough.

The opportunity to spend time with your goddaughter is always appreciated and cherished, she’s a wonderful kid and no one managed to drag Alexia into their shenanigans as effortlessly.

But you have other ideas for tonight.

“I’m planning on letting her give me–”

“Shut up! Innocent ears are around!”

Alexia’s eyebrow rises as she approaches, with an open smile on her face and one hand firmly holding Eloise as she basically wraps herself around the footballer’s leg.

“What are the two of you plotting?”

“Do you want to babysit Eloise tonight?”, he asks with a smirk.

The cheers from both your girlfriend and the kid came faster and louder than any protest you could find in yourself.

The only reasons you don’t smack your hand on the back of Teo’s neck are the comforting arm around your waist and the well placed kiss on your cheek.

He owns you big.

But not even your best friend’s annoying self is strong enough to spoil your mood today and looking at Alexia going around for another hour or so with games and small talks, her smile never fading, is the best view you’d ask for.

She’s glowing.

You see her play and interact with kids all the time, it’s always a pretty sight and it always warms your heart how caring she is. Today, for some reason, it’s beautiful and a bit overwhelming.

Maybe it’s just your hormones, you should check your cycle’s app.

“Amor, are you good?”

Alexia’s voice brings you back, thinking too much sometimes traps you in your own mind. The nod you give her is not really convincing, but a light kiss on your intertwined hands is enough to calm her for now.

“Eloise’s team won the tournament”, she says eventually, pride filling her words.

You look at the kids, still playing around as the day slowly comes to an end. The two of you wait on the sidelines, letting the young girl have another couple of shots at the inflatable goal before taking her for an ice cream and home for the night.

“I thought there wasn’t really a winner”

“Technically no, but–”, the blonde’s lips curve in a well known smirk, “between me and you, she totally won”

“Difficult not to when a Ballon d’Or winner is on your team”

“I don’t play favouritism!”

“Oh, no, I know, you didn’t even let them see the ball”

At least she looks a bit embarrassed about being called out for her competitiveness and her attitude, having unmistakably played with a bunch of children without actually going easy on them.

“I couldn’t expect anything less from la reina”, you kiss the blush on her cheek and she doesn’t hold back a smile at your attention, “But don’t worry, I know you will go easy on our kids”

Her face, now bright red, can’t hide the surprise at your words.

“Our kids?”

“Yeah, we both know they will have you wrapped around their little tiny fingers as soon as you–”

The Catalan silences you with a firm kiss, shaking hands holding your face. She takes a moment, appeasing her fast breath and your running mind.

“Our kids?”

“Alexia, I thought this was all a twisted plan to ask me to have your children”, you joke, moving a hand around to remind her of the event still in place.

“Thank God you finally noticed”

fine.

[runariya]

Drive to Survive (JJK POV) • Chapter 1

pairing: F1driver!Jungkook x female race engineer!reader genre: colleagues2L, formula1!AU, racing!AU, drama, kind of fantasy/cyborg!AU fic rating: rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: Jungkook is hopeless...and a simp...and stupid, Trish is a B, foul language, lmk if there's something missing word count: ~ 2.690

a/n: surprise, surprise! Super excited to share the first Chapter in JK's POV - it's here! YEY! I had a blast writing it and can't wait for you to read it. Get ready for more chapters from his POV because he's just too precious not to be in the spotlight!👀

series masterlist

I sit in the meeting room, waiting for the new race engineer to arrive so we can finally start. The air feels thick with anticipation, and I’m hyper-aware of George, who’s sitting beside me. He’s talking my ear off about some nonsense I can’t even begin to focus on. Something about his playstation racing session with Max Verstappen and his latest lap times, maybe, but his words blend into a dull buzz in the back of my mind.  

I lean back in my chair, trying to shake off the remnants of last night. I made the mistake of going to that party of this douchebag I don’t even know the name of, and now I’m paying for it with a migraine that throbs at my temples. 

Trish had clung to me all night, her flirtatious shrill laughs echoing in my head even now, hours later. Her touch was persistent, unwelcome. I can still see her manicured nails brushing my arm, lingering too long, ignoring every polite boundary I’ve set. She’s just my physiotherapist, and I’ve tried so many times to make it clear that all I want from her is friendship. Professionalism, at the very least. But she doesn’t seem to understand, or worse, doesn’t care.  

I exhale deeply and drag my focus back to the present. Around me, George is still talking, Joongki is tapping on his phone, James is jotting something down in his notebook, and Toto is checking his watch, probably planing every minute after the meeting is over. 

I can’t sit still, and my knee bounces under the table with restless energy. I think back to Hans, my last race engineer. He stepped down to spend more time with his family, and I admired that decision. One day, I want that for myself too—a family, children. I’d probably make the same decision as Hans if I were in his shoes. Probably a lot sooner than he did. I know his wife begged him for months to spent more time with them. 

Suddenly, there’s movement outside the door, and I sit up straighter, watching as you walk along the corridor. 

My heart stops. 

It can’t be. 

My request for you to replace Hans was a joke, a whimsical suggestion thrown at Toto in passing. Never did I imagine they’d actually choose you, let alone allow a female race engineer into the notoriously traditional world of Formula 1.  

Yet here you are.  

No. No. No, no, no, no.

Your eyes meet mine, and disbelief washes over me, leaving me momentarily stunned. How could this be happening? Please, no.

You’re beautiful, as always, your dress flowing effortlessly around your long legs, and the sunlight streaming through the window, casts a halo around you. 

Ethereal. That’s what you are.  

You’ve always been my dream girl, now woman, ever since I first saw you on track, your passion for racing as fierce as your smile is bright. I’ve spent countless days, no years, drooling over you from a distance, like some lovesick puppy, admiring you in secret. Every attempt of getting closer to you smashed with ease from you. As if you couldn’t care less about me. But now, reality crashes in—I’ll have to work with you, be around you, keep everything professional.  

Panic grips me, a cold sweat prickling at my skin. How am I supposed to maintain an emotional distance? The answer is simple yet infuriating—I can’t. There’s no way. 

My stomach twists with the realisation, and the panic quickly turns into anger. Anger at myself for feeling this way, anger at you for being so...perfect. How dare you show up and upend my world like this?  

I struggle to keep my expression neutral, even as a storm brews inside me. I latch onto the anger, let it fuel my resolve. I have to keep my distance from you, keep everything strictly professional.  

After a soft knock on the door, you stride into the room with a confidence that captivates everyone. “Good morning.” Your angelic, soft, beautiful voice swirls around the room like a spring breeze in a field full of flowers. It momentarily suffocates the anger within me and caries me away in a dream where’s only you.

George’s elbow hitting my shoulder shatters everything within seconds, only now realising everyone except from me got up to pay the deserved respect for you. “Don’t be a dick.” George scolds me silently before I school my features back to annoyance and pure indifference. 

“Good morning,___. Thank you for being here.” Toto says, breaking the silence, his tone cordial and welcoming. “Everyone, this is our new race engineer.”  

The room turns to you, offering polite nods and greetings. I force myself to join in, though my voice feels detached, a million miles away.  

“Hi, I’m Jungkook.” I manage, the words tasting strange, as if uttering them is an admission of something deeper.  

You smile, and it’s like a punch to my gut. It’s disarming, and I feel my defences crumble a little, despite myself.  

The meeting starts, discussions swirling around the expectations from you, upcoming races, the new car setups. I try to focus, thinking I’m nodding in the right places, but my mind keeps drifting back to you. I watch you interact with the others, handling each question with poise and insight. You’re so competent, so sure of yourself, and it’s maddening. Truly devastating. 

I sneak glances at you when I think you’re not looking, totally not staring at you while the time, studying the way you tilt your head when you listen intently, the slight furrow in your brow when you consider a tricky question. Every little detail pulls me in deeper, against my better judgment.  

Focus, I scold myself. Get a grip. I’m here to win races, not get caught up in some hopeless infatuation.  

As the meeting progresses, I try to find something, anything, to criticise about you. A flaw, a mistake, a reason to justify the distance I need to keep. But you handle everything flawlessly, and it only fuels my frustration.  

George leans over, whispering something about how impressed he is with you, how refreshing it is to have someone like you on the team. I grunt in agreement, unwilling to give voice to the swirling mix of admiration and annoyance I feel.  

And god, as my name falls over your perfect lips, I’m done. I’m dead. Finito. I’ve died, resurrected and died again. 

“Not yet, but I’ve prepared a setup proposal based on our simulation and historical data. I plan to discuss it with Jungkook later today, if he’s free.” 

Your voice is like a drug to me, intoxicating and addictive, leaving me in a daze where coherent thoughts slip through my fingers like sand. The fact that we’re going to spend time alone to discuss the data sends my heartbeat pounding in my ears, drowning out everything else. My eye twitches with the effort to maintain my composure. I force myself to nod once, desperately hoping it looks natural, but deep down, I know I’ve failed miserably to hide the effect you have on me. It’s the worst. 

A little while later, you meet my gaze directly, and I’m taken aback by the sincerity and fire in your eyes. “I believe in open communication and transparency," you say, your voice steady and sure. "I aim to build a strong working relationship with you based on mutual trust and respect. I’ll be proactive in seeking your feedback and ensuring you feel fully supported.”  

Your words strike a nerve, and I feel my irritation growing, though I can’t quite put my finger on why. Maybe it’s because your earnestness is disarming, making it hard to maintain the annoyance I’m clinging to. Or perhaps you highlighted the working relationship when I’ve longed for you since ever. 

There’s a short silence that stretches out awkwardly in the room, and I’m aware of George discreetly kicking me under the table when he hits a nerve with a sharp pain. I cough, masking the wince from the kick, and force a smile that I know doesn’t reach my eyes in the slightest. “I appreciate that approach. Communication is key during the race weekend, especially with strategy adjustments and car performance updates.”  

My response feels stiff, not quite reflecting the turmoil inside me. I’m annoyed, sure, but there’s also something else—a pull toward you that I just can’t mask, no matter how hard I try. Your confidence and professionalism are driving me nuts, and yet they’re exactly what draws me to you.  

Finally, the meeting wraps up, and everyone starts to disperse, heading off to their respective tasks. 

Everyone, except of George, who has the audacity to wrap his slimy, bony arms around you. “Oh, please, call me George.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see you smile at him, and I roll my eyes, throwing my head back in annoyance. Great, just what I need—a charming, smiling George.

“Oh wow, you’re taller than I thought,” you say, pulling away from George. I can’t help myself and make a fake gagging sound. He’s not that tall, jeez. Okay, maybe he is, but still.

George laughs and I think I’m going to kill him this instant. “And you’re so tiny.” How dare he ruffles your hair. “Anyway, I’ll leave you both to it. See you tomorrow.” Why the fuck is he winking at you?! But when he finally heads out, I let out a relieved breath. But then his head pops back in, and he points at me. “You, behave.” With that, he’s gone and with him my resolve to not kill him the next time I see him.

Silence stretches between us as we lock eyes, and neither of us dares to look away. Is this a game? Am I supposed to do something? I didn’t even realize it was a challenge until you blinked, and I couldn't help but burst out, “Ha! You lost.” 

You blink again, slower this time, confusion all over your face. Oh no. I cringe internally. You idiot. It’s absurd and dumb, I know, but there’s something strangely satisfying about winning that ridiculous staring contest.

“Okay, now that that’s settled, let’s get down to business, shall we?” you say, your voice steady as you dive into the details. “So, the Hockenheimring was dropped from the calendar for the last few years, so it’ll be not only new to me but also to…”

“Why are you so obsessed with me?” The words spill out before I can stop them. Fucking hell.

You slowly turn your gaze from your tablet to me, blinking as if to compose yourself, and I think I might cry. It’s not only others who suffer from my stupidity. No, I’m right there with them.

“We should obviously review the track,” you continue, unruffled. “I’m sure you’re aware of its tight hairpins and long straights. Also, I’d like to know your preferred tires so the technical sectors don’t…”

I scoff, cutting you off. Just because I’m clearly a moron doesn’t mean you can dodge my question. My arms cross as I give you a challenging look. “It all makes sense now. You’ve been obsessed with me since the first time you saw me. Doing everything in your power to work with me. Even graduating ridiculously young and declining the offer from Haas.”

Your irritation is oozing from you now, and you fire back without hesitation, “I think it’s funny you’ve kept tabs on me for all those years.”

Fuck. How do you know? “No, I haven’t.” I lie, trying to bullshit you. “It’s common knowledge. You’ve always wanted a piece of me. It’s flattering, really.”

“I can assure you, my interest has always been in the job, not in you. And it’s flattering to know that my vitae seems to be common knowledge to you.”

Shut up, Jungkook. Don’t make it worse. But of course, I can’t stop now. “Sure, sure. You don’t have to play coy. It’s perfectly natural to be drawn to someone as experienced as I am. But let’s keep things professional, alright?” Yep, I hate myself, and now you probably do, too.

“Fine by me.” You smile, and I can’t understand why. I clearly tried to gaslight you here. “So, yes. The tires you’d prefer to—”

„It’s,“ I interrupt again, unable to help myself, and you slump defeatedly into your seat, looking at the ceiling. It’s kind of cute, “just that your enthusiasm to work with me comes off as a bit… personal. But don’t worry, I can handle it.” No, I obviously cannot.

You’ve clearly had enough of my antics, your tone flat as you counter, “If anyone’s having trouble handling things, it seems to be you. Your comments suggest you’re projecting your own feelings onto me.”

“Projecting? That’s a bit of a reach. I’m just stating what I’ve observed.” I try to act surprised, an exaggerated hand on my chest, but inside, I’m crying. Crying over being the dumbest man alive, who’s going to be hated by the only woman I ever wanted.

“What you’ve observed is likely coloured by your own assumptions. I’m here to work. If you feel uncomfortable with my presence, perhaps it’s your own obsession that’s the issue.”

My ears heat up, and I feel a flush creeping up my neck. “My obsession? That’s absurd. I’m perfectly professional.”

And it’s the nail in my coffin when you push further. “Yet you seem fixated on making this about something other than work. It’s almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself of something.” A twitch of amusement plays on your lips, your perfect kissable lips.

“I… No, that’s not it at all. I’m just pointing out what I’ve noticed.” I feel the embarrassing red tint spread from my ears to my cheeks.

“What you’ve noticed is a fabrication of your own making. Let’s stay focused on the race. If you can’t handle working with me professionally, that says more about you than it does about me.”

“I’m completely professional! It’s just… Look, let’s just get this done.” I’m flustered, trying to salvage what’s left of my dignity. I’ve royally messed up. And I know there’s no coming back from this. I���ve lost you for good.

“Exactly. Let’s focus on the tires for now and leave personal assumptions out of it, hm?” Your smile is practiced, and it frustrates me that I’ve let this conversation get so far out of hand.

The tension between us isn’t good, and I’m acutely aware of how much I’ve let my emotions cloud the discussion. But as you start talking about the race, I know there’s nothing left to do but focus.

“The Hockenheimring has a mix of high-speed straights and tight hairpins, so we'll need a tire that offers a balance between grip and durability. What’s your preference?” you ask, your voice clear and professional.

Finally, I get my head back in the game, my mind becoming more focused. As we delve into the technical details, I try to settle with the thought that if there’s no future for us as a couple, then a future as colleagues needs to suffice. Somehow.

“Alright, I think we’re set for now,” you say after we’re done discussing, shutting off your tablet. Your smile is genuine, and I can’t help but falter a bit as I pack up, noticing how your demeanour has shifted. Shifted like the shards of my heart on the floor while I stand up as well. “I’ll finalise these settings, and we’ll review them again on Friday.”

“Thanks for the detailed rundown. I appreciate it.” I appreciate you. Always.

You offer me a genuine smile, and I hope it’s never going to vanish when looking at me. “No problem. Let’s make sure we’re both on the same page from here on out.”

I nod, even though I know we’re never going to be at the same page when it comes to us. With a final, respectful glance, I leave the room followed by a long silent exhale, trying to push the defeat as far away as possible.

series masterlist • JK 2

a/n 2: lmk what you think in any way you like! what was your favourite part of this chapter?

a/n 3: please send me a message, ask or comment if you would like to be tagged for upcoming chapters 💕 also - character asks and drabble requests are open

Like what you read? Check out my other work here!

taglist: @jksusawife

[kick-rem]

im aware im stunningly gorgeous i dont rlly gaf anymore i dont want to be admired and worshipped i want to be loved softly warmly and intimately. i want a guy who just loves me and doesn’t drool when he sees me or b***. don’t actually know if i want my ex back but he keeps texting me and im not sure how to feeell…. because hes like genuinely done such horrible things to me but i cant shake that feeling i got when i made eye contact with him. maybe hes ted bundy idk im not immune to the manipulations of men icl. my desire for men is a placeholder. a man is not what i want, desire is what i want, i want to feel that feeling of desire, that pulse, that pause in time, so that time goes by faster until i dont need them anymore. however i do like to fuck and i dont care about the perception of it. sexual desire is different, more fleeting. id fuck alot of guys. i like gay guys i guess, a lot less judgemental when it comes to the dick. not that there’s anything to judge, its the rest of me thats an issue sometimes. id pretty much get with most of the guys im friends with that are like old enough for me. my friend brought me out with their friend and her friend. the first friend im aesthetically obsessed with. shes kinda just perfect, shes very stylish, very intelligent and shes autistic too so like i wanna get close to her so i can see what i relate to her with. also shes in art and im going into art too so maybe we cld help eachother. my friend told me “shes bringing her friend and hes like such a you person” they was right asl. i kinda have a crush on him but prob wont see him again. he has such a cute face, above his lip is red from his nose dripping and the cold. he liked my jumper and he smokes too. im aesthetically obsessed also with my friend whos a living monster high doll. i used to be fixated on them when they first came out but stopped a couple years after from judgement i guess. i live vicariously through her stories. i dont really know about this friend group, do they like me, some of them sure but i feel like theres a hive mind lurking in them ready to go against me but maybe im paro. im the oldest now. the next oldest likes me and seems to not care enough to have any negative feelings. the next oldest ive been close with for a while so should be fine. next one is deathly afraid of being seen with me by the main opp but its fair enough considering his history(the opp). seems to be warming up to me again tho which is nice but a weird deja vu feeling. dont know where this one fits in age wise tbh but he’s interesting. autistic as hell and i can see it in his communication which is both good and difficult sometimes. feel bad for him sometimes cus hes kinda the runt of the group metaphorically but also hes a little iffy towards me sometimes so ill keep an eye. next one is a sassy lil f word and hes fine. its nice to be in a local friend group again, the distances are easy. i cant sleep

[muffindaddystyles]

18, 19, and 40 please?🥺 maybe some smut if possible💕

19. “Take a breath honey, yes princess just like that.”

18. “Squeeze my hand if you could hear me baby.”

40. “I love you, pet. So much of it, come back, please??”

A/N: Girliessss, theysss and themsss. Sorry for being inactive :(( Missed you all so much!! Here's a blurb from mafia!h x soft subby.

Y/N had never been this bratty. She had her occasional time-outs where Harry refused to touch her for days till she broke through her ice and begged him with a drool-y sweet mouth and honeyed puppy eyes.

She knows the drill and loves the adrenaline that seeps to her toes when Harry glowers at her across the room with bolting dark intensity -- his hook of thumb in a demand to have her in his lap is enough to excite her, the punishments makes her insides shrill and makes her fall in love with her daddy more and the best part of all of it's that she wants to cherish again and again’s how adorably caring he’s once fucking her raw.

At the moment though. She isn’t being a brat on purpose. They came for a dinner (with one of the Harry's business people) and it’s all business talk, rich dicks everywhere, hush hush voices that Y/N despises and the piqued ogle of the wife on her that makes her squirmy in her seat.

She zones out into her own lil bubble for a second, imagining herself back in their cosy home comfy in Harry’s humungous overly worn hoodie, snuggling him and smooching him, pecking all those softish spots where he has runs his fingers through the night and she wants to have a delicious pizza all to herself because the food here’s the amount of worm and leaf of spinach on a worm.

She didn’t even realise that she was slipping into her subby state until she was getting all fussy about her surrounds and plucked her lipstick out smudging the crimson tip against a tissue and slides it atop Harry’s thigh from under the table,

Daddy, home?

His flicker of gaze alters from the little needy note towards his girl who’s being choosy in eating her veggies and rolling them around in boredom.

Her head perks up cutesly at the feeling of his attention on her and he suckles his wine layered lip upon the sight of her doe-blown out pupils and glossy eyes indicating him like a train's horn that she’s submerging into her submissiveness at dangerous rate when she goes all squeamish and pink cheeks at the mere touch of his knuckles against her elbow.

“Daddy, please.” She whispers into his ear impatiently squeezing his knee. About to write another note to him to stay persistent but her lipstick breaks and she flinches when it rolls under the lady’s shoe leaving a bright stain on floor.

“Behave.” Was all he muttered gruffly before throwing a nonchalant dismissive glance her way and that was the last straw for her.

It’s been hours!! All she wanted was to get home and cuddle! Is that too much too ask!?

That’s why she acted like a grump and didn’t even bid them goodbyes, waited at the lobby for him eagerly and couldn’t help but to sway with her hands clasped back and grin at the greedy thought that once he steps outside she will leap on him like an affection starved kitten.

Her wish remains a wish nevertheless when Harry passes by her with a stoic face and snaps his fingers at her, the single gesture’s enough to bead tension on her forehead.

“In the car. Right now.” He glares her sternly plucking his black leather glove to reveal his jewelled pretty hand as he reaches for the handle of the backseat door.

Y/N has decided that today she’s gonna hold her grounds and be as naughty as she possibly could to get her kisses of the day.

Sheepishly she slips inside and gives him a toothy smile whilst trying to scramble up towards to reach within the sweet distance for his lips.

The trinkets of her shiny dress makes a noise as Harry splays his calloused palm up her silken thigh, glides it all the way up her hip and keeps his grip on her to stop her from moving.

“What?” She pouts knocking her nose against his's in attempt to plant her lips atop his’s, all grabby hands for him, “You’re not havin’ any of me kisses.” He tuts, eyes dark and murky.

“But why!!?” She whines trying to cup his cheeks and just squish them awful good but he gives her a pointed look and doubles back, away from her.

“You know why, little one.” At that she gives him a nasty narrow squint of her peepers and mutters grouchily, “I hate you.”

“What did ye' just say?” He pushes her closer with one tug that elicits tiny gasp from her, his lip thin in annoyance, “I said I hate you!” She huffs crossing her arms and it makes her breast appear more plump.

In all reality, she’s too stubborn to tell him that she’s feeling terribly needy.

“Say tha’ again, I dare you.” Harry demands with tinge of surprise in his growl and she hisses in frustration adjusting the loose heavy shoulder of her dress, “I said, I hate you and this dress, ‘s so itchy. just w’na go home —-,” Her blabbing fades into a squeaky gasp upon the sharp sting of Harry’s hand against her bottom.

“What happened Sugar? Did cat caught ye’ tongue?” He grits wrapping his warm hand around her throat wanting to choke the battiness out of her, but rather it turns her into a melty puddle of a softie.

“Over my lap.” He says firmly.

“No.”

He doesn’t give her time and positions her himself horizontally on his thighs, elbows pressed into seat and raises her bum with the support of his knee, pinching her cheek teasingly to warn her.

He tries not to coo as she looks ethereal in the glittery dress that's now bunched in Harry’s fist atop her spine to expose her itty bittys and she mewls prettily when Harry spanks her asscheek watching it jiggle then does it again and again, on her last count she’s dripping down her thighs stickily.

“What a filthy little brat,” He groans adam apple bobbing from the vigour of heat spreading in his body as he inspects her wet holes with middle finger making her squirmy and whiny from his feathery touches, “Proper soaked just from gettin' spanked.” He traces the lace delicates of her panties and presses his thumb against her bundle of nerves to feel the throb from his touch.

He pulls her back up and squishes her cheeks to pucker her rosy lips, pecks it heartily, “Knows why you’re gettin’ punished baby?” His tone gentler now. Realising that she shouldn’t slip too deep before they reach home.

She snuggles into the crook of his neck and hums, guiding his hand to her sore bum to make him rub the burn he left on her ass.

“Uhmm. ‘cos didn’t behave nice, acted bad ...” Her voice slurry from desire and yearn. If it wouldn’t be for his grasp on her waist she’d have gotten off on his meaty thigh long gone, “And?” He arches his brow sceptically drawing soothing circles on her flesh.

“And that I said, I hate daddy ‘n the dress he gifted me ....” His heart thumps a bit from the statement but the rational part in him assures him that she was just bumbled about him being too distant from her.

“And what do bad girls get?”

“Punished.” She mumbles into his throat and he nods, kisses her hair and cups the nape of her neck to give it a tender squeeze.

How much she acts like a spoiled brat sometimes; he still always makes sure she’s in her comfort zone and knows why she’s getting treated that way.

“I love you, baby sweets. But .... it doesn’t mean you’d not get your punishment.” She was about to protest and throw a tantrum but the car comes to an halt right infront of the large dark doors of mansion.

Tranquil air fills with her giggly shrieks when Harry gets outside and throws her over his shoulder with an ease, his grin wicked as she squeals out “No's" grabbing onto one of the door-frames in the hallway but it’s all vain since he’s way stronger than her little grip.

Once in their room, he’s flipping her into heaps of pillows and catches her calf when she tries to crawl away in hurry.

Her eyes widen and she looks down with a pout upon hearing the rip of her dress, “Liked it.” She mummers sadly.

“Thought it was too itchy,” Harry shrugs pushing her up towards the bedhead and ducks down to speck soft kisses against her collarbones, mouth foaming at the sight of her tits spilling out of her lingerie.

“No! Was just —.. fuck ...” She keens out a moan bucking her core to grind against his thigh when he nooks his knuckle between her sloppy pussy lips and twists her panties pushing them up scruffily into her mound feeling the flutter of her clitoris, the sheer fabric of it giving the right amount of friction to get her to an orgasm.

Her wet gasps and moans fogs into Harry’s mouth as he kisses her with unyielding roughness, hot bubbles popping in her belly ready to spread the nice feeling inside her, holding her down when he knows what he’s gonna do next will turn her into batshit crazy.

He pulls back. Both. His hand and his mouth away from her.

She blinks, with a lazy smile first then the realization dawns upon her and she’s grappling for his sides but he takes her wrists and pins them down.

“Daddy no!” She growls a whine and he just sits on his heels and admires the mess he created out of her, flustered and sheened in sweat, all soft and pudging to litter her skin with marks and bites, his cock warming up in his pants, “Please daddy I want you.” The whites of her eyes enviable and glassy from the frustrated tears that are collecting at her waterline.

Though, Harry stays adamant because those innocent coy eyes are her best weapon and ties her wrists to the bedpost without saying a word to her.

“You brought this on y'self, baby.” He tugs the bound to make sure it’s not too tight and moves back to get rid of his pants, his prick bloated and throbbing from ridges, slaps against his lower belly it’s head coated with precum.

“Now you’re g'na watch me jerk myself off and cover ye' pretty tummy with my cum, might lick it off from you.” She shivers at his words. Toes curling as she silently pleads with a parted mouth and barely open eyelids.

His nostrils flares, howling groan slipping through his lips as he spits in his palm and wraps it around his fat girth slicking his fist up and all the way down to give some relief to his balls.

He dips down and sucks onto her lower lip, “Knows your safe word right?” He asks shoulders jolting when he slops the bulbous crown of his prick against her clit in slow circles.

“Yes, yellow.” She breathes out delicately hoping he slips into her soon but Harry has other plans as he squeezes himself more, swiping the dollops of white thickness from the crown of his prick and brings his thumb to stuff her mouth shut with that.

“What a greedy kitten.” He tuts in mock when she eagerly swirls her tongue around his thumb creating soft sucking noises, she gags around his digit, eyeballs rolling to her skull when Harry slides her damp panties away and strokes his cock against her drippy hole.

“Hmm. Feels good.” He husks pushing into her, but not stuffing her full and that makes her whimper. She glides her feet around his spine to push him into her and her squishy sloppy walls tries to swallow him whole.

Everything just feels too hot and overwhelming. Him fondling his shaft from where he isn’t soaked into her warmth and her tiny whines and whimpers as he teases and edges her.

“Daddy ‘m sorry!” She squeaks out breathlessly clamping down onto him, “I bet you’re.” He moans out, that one sweaty curl dangling and tickling her forehead.

“That’s the most prettiest sound I’ve heard.” At his praise she just turns into a puddle and wiggles for more.

“You’re g'na make me cum.” He kisses his teeth and she digs her feet into his back not knowing if she’s allowed to come too and not having a voice to ask for his permission.

She gulps. Eyelids fluttering. Her cheeks blushy and peachy, listening to his deep moans that whirls within the pit of his chest as he fills her pussy with warm ribbons of cum that sticks to her already soppy walls and then pulls out to empty himself on her tummy as he promised.

Moments later the room echoes with her treacly yearning whimpers and blubbers of Harry’s name as he licks her juices off and the his own cum that oozes out of her whenever he pushes his middle finger inside her cunt.

..

“No!” That’s why they’ve discussed it before hand, her safe word. Harry knows his baby girl and that she gives up too early, gets too overwhelmed before she could actually enjoy the good part all of it although she has a potential to be more bearing than that.

They’ve lost the count of her orgasms.

The overestimation thingy.

Harry thinks it could be the best punishment for her.

She cramps her thighs around his wrist to make him stop but he spreads them wider apart, “You could gimme another one princess, knows y’could.” He curls his fingers to caress that spongey button inside her that makes her writhe like a leaf and it definitely did.

“Shit.” Eventually she gives into him basking in the pleasure of it -- sinking down on his fingers and grinds her clit against his knuckles, her cum from her previous orgasms glistening on his skin.

“Fuck already squirting.” She didn’t realize that, too floaty in her subspace and the ecstasy until she feels his fingers rubbing inside her again.

“Daddy no, no, no ... too sensitive!” She cries out cramming her legs around his waist and pushes his chest away with her knees but Harry keeps pummelling them deeper, scissoring them and adding two more, her thighs shakes terribly a burn spreads in her limbs as the sensational craving envelopes her once again.

“Yes, yes, yes. Don’t stop, please!” She shouts out whimperishly making Harry smile and he smooches a kiss to her forehead, pressing his chest flushed to hers and cradles her jaw to make her look at him, “Cum fo’ me. You’re me good fuckin' girl – g'na come right?” She bobs her head quickly fresh tears gliding down her cheeks and Harry wipes them away immediately.

She’s flying high like a kite. Wanting him all. His hands. His touch. His cock. His cum anything she could get out of him.

His love. His attention. His constant assurances and praises, affection, tenderness and his kisses and loads ‘n loads of tiny kisses She’s always needy for that.

“’M your good girl!” She sobs out in high pitch grappling onto restraints and Harry feels this dire urge to protect his little one at all costs, “Yes you’re.” He coos brushing her hair away from her eyes and let her hide her face into his neck as she turns stiff like an arrow and creampies around his fingers, lips smushed against his cheek.

“Take a breath, honey. Yes princess just like that.” He massages her shoulder and pecks it to calm her down upon feeling her heartbeat go wild after she comes.

She shakes in his arms whilst Harry showers her in kisses lining himself against her entrance and sheathes into her in a slick, their moans melting as he buries himself deep till her belly and cum spurts out from her cunt with his each hard thrust and it drips down her bum and onto already splotched sheets.

White dots wafts past her eyelids, arms shaking and lip wobbling as she feels it hit like a train. Getting pooled into utter bliss of many orgasms, feeling a rupturing dose of euphoria cocooning her.

She feels like she’s on paradise and somebody’s calling her through the white noise but she’s unable to respond all she could do’s blabber nonsense while trying to stop squirming.

Then she gets familiar to that gentle voice, the cosiness of that hand holding onto her free ones now and the softness of those lips against her forehead.

“Squeeze my hand if you could hear me baby.” He gets anxious a little bit when she stays droopy and unresponsive like a sunflower at nights.

A huge grin adorns his after climax blissed out features when she obeys him and gives a lil squish to his palm, “There y’go baby sugar. Y'alright honey?” He kisses the tip of her nose when she just blinks up at him weepily.

“Daddy.” Her voice scratchy and awfully feeble from all of the screaming and moaning.

“No daddy. ‘S just Harry, I love you pet. So much of it come back to me, please?” He almost pleads corking his mind to think what would bring her back from her fragile state since she has never slipped past from him this deep ever.

She whines at the hollowness she feels in her tummy when he pulls out catefully from her with a squelching noise and hisses even when the sheets rustles against her folds, “So sensitive.” Harry murmurs trailing honeyed kisses into the softest flesh of her thighs.

“Yes daddy, but want you!” Harry’s brows shoots up into shock and he slips his forearm under her to hug her tight, “’M right her bubba.” She cuddles into him and yawns fumbling with his sides listening to his pacific breathing.

“Guess we gotta give this little one a sleepy bath.” He mutters into her hair, nails scratching soothingly up her neck and twirling her downsy baby curls.

“I love you.” She rasps out rubbing the sleepiness in her eyes with the back of her hand, “I love you too -- would you like if I lit up some candles in the bathroom? Y’favourite ones?” He thinks it might help her get out of her subby state.

“No. Just you.” She pouts battling the sleepiness away and clings to him when he walks them to bathroom and sits them into the cold tub, he wrapped her around him in a way she doesn’t come in contact with the coldness of it as they wait for it fill with bubbling water (Y/N was too sensitive and clingy that he knew if he’d away parted away she’d have cried endlessly.)

No words were exchanged as she almost slept on his chest and drooled all over him.

“Cutie.” Harry giggles softly pecking her parted snoring lips and cleans himself and her gently.

Gets his most worn out clothes, the one that could tell another person in a beat that she belongs to him from the smell alone.

She slings her thigh around his waist and smashes her face under his chin, canoodling into him with a little tired purr.

He was petting her head and running his hand over her back that when she mumbled into her sleep, rubbing her cheek up and down his chest, Harry stopped and ducked down to kiss her forehead feeling love bursting through his insides.

“I love you, Harry.” Was what she mumbled. He's just too much in love with his soft little button.

[luckyasfuck]

maybe i just wanna be yours [k. bakugou]

A CAMBOY AU SERIES - PARTS 1, 2, 3, 4, [5]

pairing // katsuki x female reader

tw // cussing, smut

warnings for this part // oral (m and f recieving), hair pulling, face-fucking, exhibitionist kink, spanking, praise, dacryphilia

theme // enemies to lovers au, camboy!katsu au, college student!katsu and reader au, no quirk au

keys // y/n

words // 1.8k

a/n // IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG I DONT DESERVE YALL. pt 6 at 250 likes and 20 reblogs btw!

previous part

y/n has been alone in the library for about an hour now. she didn’t notice katsuki’s absence until she had to change subjects to study, too indulged in the textbook to look up. no messages were given by katsuki about him being late and she grumbled, rolling her eyes. she writes the name of the textbook on top of the page in her notebook and the library door swings open. 

a calm katsuki walks towards her, ash blonde hair kinda messy and his black hoodie all over the place. with an eyeroll, y/n went back to writing on her notebook while handing the textbook she just used to him. “you’re la-”

“why’d you block me?”

the sentence made the girl look at him with a glare. her hand stops writing, her body stiffens and her hands start to sweat. “what the fuck are you talking about?” she avoids his strong gaze, looking back down on her notebook. katsuki fumes at this, pulling out his phone as she started to write again.

the notebook is closed harshly, a phone being slammed down on it as it displayed her account and the block message. she looked up at the fuming boy as he gripped his phone tight, gazing down at her. “none of your fucking business.” she replied, putting the cap on her ballpoint pen. about to glare at him again, a gasp erupts from her throat when he grips the collar of her shirt, pulling her towards him.

“why’d you block me?” katsuki’s breath fanned right on her lips, his eyes locked right into hers. she sends a death glare his way, grabbing his wrist and detaching it from her collar. “it was the right thing to do and you know it.” the blonde rolled his eyes as y/n dusted her shirt off, fixing her collar. “great, now it’s loose.”

heavy steps make the h/c turn her head to the sound, only to be grabbed by the shoulders and sat down harshly. katsuki towered over her, “unblock me now.” 

“i see no reason to.” stray students walked inside the library and y/n is quick to shove katsuki away from her, they chatter and sit on a table near the front. they don’t acknowledge the two students who were here before them as they laughed loudly. 

y/n sighs, mood completely ruined by the dumb blonde and class skippers. speaking of the dumb blonde, he eyes the students as well, dragging a chair and sitting down beside y/n right before she got up to return the textbook. vermillion eyes stare right into her ass before they’re torn away by her voice, “go get a fucking textbook.” 

the math section is where it all goes downhill.

hands show up either side of y/n as she’s reading through the contents of the math book. about to turn around, she stiffens when a warm, sculpted body presses up against her back. 

katsuki’s crotch brushes up against her rump, his pecs right against her back. “what the fuck are you doing?” the pressed up girl returns the textbook to its original place, trying to even out her breaths. the blonde moves back a little, a hand gripping y/n’s shoulders to turn her around. “will you stop pushing me around?! you- mhmp!” 

a pair of lips slams against hers mid-sentence, a tongue instantly prodding against her lips asking for entrance. the hands encaging her roam her body, one staying put on her hips. “don’t you ever shut the fuck up?” katsuki slurred against her lips as y/n put her hands on his chest, “says you.” 

the next thing the blonde knows, he’s pinned to a shelf. the shelf falters slightly but this doesn’t bother y/n, instead she presses herself against him while connecting their lips once again. 

now that was definitely unexpected. 

“you want it or nah?” katsuki pulls away, hands disappearing underneath her shirt. “i’m afraid you’ll be too loud.” he smirked, groping her left boob. “me? too loud?” y/n tilts her head to the side, her hand traveling downwards to squeeze the males evident bulge, making him whine out quietly. “says you.”

“i’ve watched enough of your stupid lives to know how loud you can be.” the students chatter loudly in the distance, making the both of them aware of their presence. for some reason, the librarian wasn’t here to check up on the shelves every now and then. perfect, y/n thought as she got on her knees, grazing her fingernails along the side of katsuki’s bulge. his cock twitches under her palm as he covers his mouth, breathing heavily. 

his cock was pretty. of course, she’d seen it on multiple lives, but seeing it right infront of her, his pink tip leaking and his veins throbbing. it hit different. without warning, her lips encage his cock head, licking at his the pre-cum dripping down his slit. a beautiful moan escapes from katsuki’s parted lips as he threw his head back onto the shelf filled with books. chatter and footsteps approach the both of them, growing louder by the second. 

“hey, sto-” katsuki warns, trying to push the girl away from his cock. the students walk to the section of shelves right behind them, laughing about getting a book named whatever that was. ignoring the statement, y/n pushes his cock deeper into his mouth, hollowing her cheeks and swirling her tongue around. the weight of it felt amazing against her tongue as she slowly fit all of him in, struggling and gagging. she pulls away, a thin string of saliva connects her to his cock. 

“oh don’t stop now.” katsuki glared, grabbing the back of her head and pushing her back. “fucking suck it, so these students right behind us knows whose cock you’re choking on, yeah? it’s my cock.” for reasons unknown, the students behind them didn’t hear a thing, probably too busy being idiots. y/n only nods, continuing her job, stroking the places she can’t reach. “poor girl, you need help?” 

a harsh grip on her hair and she gags audibly again, hoping the idiots behind katsuki didn’t hear it. slowly, he started fucking himself with her mouth, admiring the way she looked up at him, saliva drooling down her jaw and onto the floor. the tip of his cock hits the back of his throat and he groans. “did you hear that?” a slightly muffled voice asks and the laughter and noise ceases. y/n and katsuki’s hearts drop, but she can’t stop now, could she?

with a faster pace, she starts sucking again, looking up at katsuki with a smirk. “we should go check.” they hear and y/n’s heart pace picks up, licking at the prominent vein of the blonde’s cock. “fucking filthy exhibitionist.” he mouths as the group of students start to investigate. right about to catch the dirty doings of the duo, they’re called by the remnants of their friend group to go get food. “too bad,” he threw his head back, hard footsteps and chatter slowly disappearing in the distance until the library door finally closes, leaving the room silent. “they didn’t see me fill your throat with cum.” he says, finally shooting his load into your mouth. 

the library consists now of katsuki’s moans and y/n audibly gagging here and there. “your turn.” the next thing she knew, she was bent over the desk they were studying at. “we were supposed to study, weren’t we? okay.” he let out a deep chuckle, opening the textbook she used to study. “page 357, what is knowledge?” the cold breeze of the air-conditioned library made her shiver as he hoisted her skirt up, groping her ass and thumbing her clit. “i... i haven’t gotten to that page ye-”

spank.

“ow, fuck!” the slap stung, and katsuki chuckled, kneading her ass cheek with the same hand he used to spank it. a thumb grazing the wet patch in her panties. “page 17, what is psychology?” y/n gulps, legs quivering. “scientific study of... of mental process and behavior...” the tension is thick when he doesn’t speak, she tries to look back at him to see what he’s doing only to be cut off by a moan when one of his fingers dig inside her, slowly moving in and out. “the more correct answers you give, the faster i go. the more wrong answers you give, the slower i go. understood?”

“u-understood.”

“page 137, when was behaviorism introduced?” fuck, y/n didn’t like numbers. katsuki stops moving his fingers and she whines, trying to pry her brain for the answer. “1913...?” a sigh leaves her lips when he starts moving again, a little faster now. “good girl.” this went on for ten more questions, her ass stinging, legs giving up, and tears rolling down onto the table. she had already cum twice, mind becoming hazier and hazier with each question. “that’s it baby, one more question. page 270, which theory of abnormal behavior stresses the importance of current experiences and the persons view of themselves?”

y/n felt his cock prodding at her entrance and she whines, thrusting back to try and get it inside of her. katsuki puts the book down, gripping her hips and pinning her wrists above her head. “nope, answer the question first.” he teases, rubbing her slit up and down with his cock. “existential theories.” she answered proudly, a small oh, yes leaving her lips when he slowly bottoms out inside of her. “good girl, you like being fucked out here? when anyone can walk in and see you?” 

the size of his cock was amazing, it felt amazing. the females eyes lull shut, gripping down at the table with her fingers as katsuki picked up his pace, heavy balls slapping her clit with each thrust. y/n can only nod, face contorting in pleasure as skin slapping, her whines and his grunts bounced off the four walls of the library. “good girl.” he says for the millionth time, bending over to give her shoulder blade a kiss. “fuck! g-gonna cum again!” she warns, legs shaking and sobs leaving her lips. 

“so pretty when you cry,” katsuki whines out, thrusts growing sloppier and faster. “so. fucking. p-pretty.” a loud moan escapes both of their lips and his hips stutter, shooting his load inside her. he thrusts a few more times, prolonging their orgasm. soon, he pulls out and they’re both panting. with a swift movement, he spanks her ass one last time before pulling her panties up, keeping his cum inside. 

y/n is still fucked out, drool and tears all over her face as she got up from the table. katsuki grabs a chair and moves it to her, slowly sitting her down. “you hurt anywhere?” he tried to act cool while snatching her phone, offering her his jug. “fuck off, i see you taking my phone. unblock yourself if you want, i don’t plan on watching your stupid lives anyway.” she choked out, wiping the thin layer of sweat on her forehead. katsuki rolls his eyes at this, unblocking himself and unfollowing all the other camboys you had. 

“we’ll see about that, pretty face.”

next part [ not yet available! ]

taglist

@princesspeach-00 @tamakisropebunny @bakugous-mamas @ll379333 @j1-914 @gazelle-des-pres @trashpandainahat @dickinson-67 @victoriaestein @graybabyxx @apex-legends-dreams @bokuwhorez @karicho @marinwestward @fondontinta @ambi0311 @aghase-nct91312 @toxicempath @katsukichu 

[kodzumie-archived]

can i please get a nsfw yandere nagito with a fem or gn s/o that involves overstimulation/multiple orgasms? i love ur writing so far 💖💕💗💓 tysm

❝COVETOUSNESS❞

Synopsis; Humans are selfish to their very core; their fundamentals. Yet is he truly selfish if he merely wants to serve you?

Featuring; Nagito Komaeda x Fem! Reader

Warning(s); Yandere themes, nonconsensual, sacrilege, breaking and entering, somnophilia, fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, mentions of feeling like vomiting (distress), overstimulation, and hintings of forced pregnancy.

Kodzumie’s Note; Thank you for your support and kind words! Though I sincerely apologize if this isn’t what you had in mind when requesting. This piece turned out very dark and included a lot of triggering topics. If you don’t like how it turned out, please tell me! I’ll rewrite it just for you, love. Take care of yourself, okay? Muah <3

➤ NAGITO KOMAEDA

⤷ Humans—to their very core—are selfish. They yearn for what they can’t attain; for what they shouldn’t possess. Human instinct is derived from bitter selfishness, a desire to take, take, take until they’ve withdrawn everything.

⤷ No matter Nagito’s constant resistance of such instincts, even he succumbs. Selfishness—uncontrollable avarice—is merely the fundamentals of humanity’s existence.

⤷ Despite how pitifully minor Nagito views his worth to be; how little he views his purpose to be; he’s still human.

⤷ And with being human comes an animalistic drive. An uncontainable urge to tear into all that he yearns, to take what it is he lusts after.

⤷ Even as months pass, his livid attempts to suppress the temptations and submit himself under your guide; your hope; your will. He swears to himself that he merely wants to serve you.

⤷ His disillusionment riddled with fixation leads his mind astray, and perhaps that’s why he found himself perched outside your bedroom window, peering in through the crack of your curtain.

⤷ He’s aware that someone as worthless as him shouldn’t dare think of tainting your ethereal, divine figure with his touch. But his delusional ideals muddle his thoughts until he, himself, compromises to string along his yearning as well as his allegiance towards you.

⤷ It’s a complicated urge; a lustful temptation fueled by his innermost greed. Yet isn’t this another way to serve you? To bring forth your pleasure and watch you squirm in ecstasy? Isn’t this what it means to serve?

⤷ Too far gone within his ambitions of pleasing his beloved hope—his god—his fingers trail along the underside of your bedroom window, tracing over the sill with his fingertips.

⤷ Yes, yes. The desire to ensure your pleasure was nothing more than his strive to serve you. Even as he knew someone scum like him have no business laying their grimy touch upon you, his fundamental, humanistic avarice distorted his belief; it’s not about his pleasure, it’s about yours.

⤷ Thus he repeated these words within the feverish, compulsive capsule of his mind as he tugged at the window, gently as to not disturb your rest; he wouldn’t dare want to bother you.

⤷ A click resonated within the nighttime air and Nagito’s lips curled to an eerie smile; just his luck, the window was left unlocked.

⤷ With a singular, fluid motion, Nagito managed to open the window to its fullest; granting himself entrance within your abode.

⤷ He almost didn’t enter, too far flustered at the fact that he was about to enter within the encompass of your heavenly presence; your sacred home. Surely trash like him wasn’t welcome within the personal realms of his beloved hope. But the endeavor of humanistic covetousness is not to be underestimated.

⤷ As he pushes through, entering with a reluctant hop, a thump echoes against the walls of your bedroom. Yet it seems that his luck was abundant that night, you hadn’t even stirred within your rest.

⤷ It was within that moment that Nagito’s breathing grew erratic; unstable. Huffing jagged breaths as he admired your sleeping form with an all-too-prominent blush coating his cheeks.

⤷ You appeared so delicate from within this close—no, intimate—proximity. Having spent months watching you from meters distance, this length felt almost forbidden; sinful.

⤷ It’s evident as though being this close to you was sinful itself. He knew all too well that scum like him shouldn’t dare approach you; shouldn’t dare go near; he wasn’t worthy of your divine presence. He knows, he knows, he knows.

⤷ Yet that doesn’t stop his footsteps as he hovers over you, taking a closer peek at your visage in which was doused with the indications of slumber.

⤷ He was mere feet away from you, and that thought alone sent blood to his already flushed cheeks and straight down to where his pants began to strain; an erotic euphoria bubbling within his gut as he released a giddy giggle.

⤷ There you were, there you were. As he gently brushed the back of his hand against your cheek, his knuckles nuzzling against the plush skin, he stuttered out a breathless moan. You were there, he could feel you.

⤷ And that realization—alone—was what cut the ropes; detaching Nagito from what was left of his morality as he climbed over your dormant body, straddling your hips.

⤷ Picking at the fruit of his desires, fingers clasping over the hem of your blanket, ready to reveal your heavenly figure to his ravishing eyes.

⤷ Nagito lost his external awareness, unable to decipher if the beating of his heart and the rapid, heavy breathing escaping his lips was even his own. Instead, his attention remained glued to you; to your divinity; to your ethereal, unconscious countenance.

⤷ It almost felt unreal, as though that very moment was nothing more than a merciless dream to torture his unattainable wishes and prove to him just how pathetic he was; how greedy scum like him can be.

⤷ But as he rocked his hips—grinding his clothed erection against your blanketed form—all his fears of this moment being nothing more than a dream had dispersed.

⤷ This pleasure was real. And it felt so, so imprudent. He should feel ashamed, and he did. He felt such an unfathomable amount of ignominy; his existence culminated to a mere disgrace.

⤷ Somewhere within his mind—somewhere tucked far within the depths of his disillusioned, fixated mind—he knows what he’s doing is wrong. He knows he doesn’t deserve to touch you like this. He knows putting his grimy hands on you is criminal. But his thoughts are clouded, and he no longer fucking cares.

⤷ The rocking of his hips jolts to a hault as he shakes his head, dismissing his own undeserving pleasure. This wasn’t about him, this was about you; relinquishing in your pleasure, fulfilling his role to serve you.

⤷ And thus, he discards your blanket, soaking in the sight of your body covered in nothing more than your pajamas. His already rosy cheeks flush further, sweat accumulating above his brow at your delicacy; your vulnerability. How cute.

⤷ As though your waist was a magnet, his hands instantly found themselves situated atop the exposed skin that managed to peek out from beneath your top.

⤷ A shudder wracked down Nagito’s spin, a shaky moan falling from between his lips as he gently squeezed the skin; familiarizing himself with your divinity. So soft, so delectable.

⤷ He found himself wanting to savor you; to treasure each moment through the means of time as he spends each mystical second hailing every centimeter of skin you bless his senses with. But it’s that damned ravishing instinct; his disgusting, filthy greed that persuades him to hasten.

⤷ Soon enough, his fingers find themselves curled around the hem of your pants, mentally preparing himself for the glory of tugging them down and witnessing the sacred grail of your panties. Though he hungrily awaited the heavenly domain the aforementioned panties kept hidden.

⤷ It was a swift motion, but he tried to be as careful as he could muster. You—his precious deity, his glorious god—were still asleep, after all.

⤷ At the sight of your panties, Nagito chewed his bottom lip with fervor as he suppressed a groan. This is real, this is real, this is real.

⤷ Caught in a state of delusion and pure, unhindered ecstasy, Nagito attempted to ground himself to reality—this was real, he was truly feeling upon your divinity—brushing the tips of his index and middle finger over your clothed slit. He could feel you; he could feel your slick through the thin fabric of your panties.

⤷ The feeling of your juices coating your panties, faintly dampening his fingers, had unraveled waves of heat to his cock. Your juices; your arousal.

⤷ Nothing could ever compare to the euphoria, the unhinged joy, he felt within that moment.

⤷ He could feel the hope you radiated in multitudes of waves. The intensity of your hope flustering him, dizzying him with adoration as he pants. A borderline maniacal cackle erupting from the back of his throat.

⤷ This was it! This was what a worthless scum such as himself was meant to do; his purpose! He was meant to appease you, his sole meaning in his pitiful, miserable, despair-filled existence was nothing more than that; to appease the beacon of hope that radiates amongst mankind, his beloved savior, his god.

⤷ His mind fogged with the brimmings of dazed insanity, he pounces; jumping the gun. Your panties sheltered your cunt no longer, exposing your most intimate parts to his ghost-green orbs; the same eyes that ravished the sight so hungrily, starved.

⤷ His tongue swiped over his bottom lip, salivating at the sight. Of course, every part of you was faultless; perfection personified. He should’ve known your pussy—drooling with your slick—was no exception.

⤷ The temptations, the urge, the bitter greed that was pitted within his too-far-gone devotions overwhelmed him.

⤷ It was a constant battle between his self-degradation and self-absorption. He wanted to ravage you; milk you of your nectar.

⤷ Yet he was caught in a cobweb of confliction. Scum like him didn’t deserve to taste your delicacy. Trash like him didn’t deserve to touch you so intimately.

⤷ He knew this. He knows, he knows, he knows, and yet he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. Not as his tongue drags over your slit, lapping over your wet cunt and humming at your flavorful dew.

⤷ It was addictive; your taste. As though he wasn’t already high—face flushed, sweat-coated brows, and bleary mind—he now found himself encapsulated within his ever-growing fixation. His adoration—no, obsession; his addiction—for you transitioned from a chrysalis of desire to an abyss of yearning.

⤷ Unable to cease his infatuation, he plunges his tongue into your forbidden flower; the glory that trash like him should never delve into. But he doesn’t give a damn about that now.

⤷ He’s aware of his status in comparison to yours. He shouldn’t even be within a mile radius of your sacred space; he shouldn’t be anywhere near you.

⤷ But that’s what made you so addictive; so cherished. He couldn’t get enough of your superiority, and that’s because trash like him will never be enough. He could never amount to your greatness—your holiness—so he takes. And he takes, and he takes, and he takes from you until he’s able to fill his worthless existence with a mere fraction of your inalienable hope.

⤷ You’re his hope. You’re his promise of a better tomorrow. You’re the beacon of light that ensures him that life is worth one more day. You’re the embodiment of his desires. You possess all his wants, and yet he only wants you.

⤷ He only wants to indulge in you; serve you; appease you; fulfill all that it is to please you. As he continues to suckle on your clit, lapping his tongue over the sensitive bud, a moan echoed within the bounds of your bedroom; a moan that was not his own.

⤷ You turn, and a groan of slumber escapes your lips. Nagito’s breath hitched as he pauses his ministrations, heart hammering within his chest in anticipation; dread.

⤷ A dread that warped into sickening excitement as you gasp; the result of a lick to your slit.

⤷ In that climactic second, your entire body stilled as your limbs began to tremble with absolute terror. At that very moment, you are painfully aware of the cold air brushing against your thighs; the cold air of another person’s breath against your exposed cunt.

⤷ A wicked, devious smirk resided on Nagito’s lips as he allowed his repressed chuckle to escape and resound within the tense atmosphere. Just his luck, you were awake.

⤷ He’s disturbed his beloved hope; his god. How shameful, how utterly audacious of him. How dare he stir you from your rest? Much less have your divinity awaken to witness his atrocious self; his existence that you should’ve gone about your merry life without realizing he existed.

⤷ But that doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done, and Nagito can only attempt to mend the inevitable errors he’s committed.

⤷ He’ll try to make amends of his wrongdoings by bringing forth your pleasure. He’s disturbed you, so why not make it all right through serving you? Just like he intended to do in the first place.

⤷ His tongue—formerly masquerading in quick frolics—now fervently diving and plunging into your core. Slurping your juices with such intensity as regard for your already disturbed slumber is dismissed.

⤷ Your hands press against his disheveled hair, tugging and attempting to push him away. Yet the sting of your fingers within his strands merely elicits a groan from his lips; the same moan that vibrates against your body, releasing a moan from your pretty lips that he adores.

⤷ The harmonious sound you’d let out motivating Nagito further as he tightens his right hand over your thigh, throwing it over his shoulder. His left-hand massaging your slit—teasingly—before thrusting two fingers at once.

⤷ Your stuttered moans are pitifully muffled by the biting of your bottom lip. You’re afraid; so very afraid. Why was this happening? Why you?

⤷ With his face buried between your thighs, you couldn’t get a clear view of his face to identity him. You wondered which would be worse; someone you knew or a stranger?

⤷ Regretful whimpers tumble from your lips as Nagito added yet another finger, his lips curled around your clit as he drew a harsh suck; one that forced a particularly loud moan from you.

⤷ He smiled against your cunt, giddy that someone as trashy as him could bring out such melodic noises from you. Yet this blossomed a hunger for more; more of your sounds and more of your pleasure. He wanted to watch you unravel over, and over, and over.

⤷ And—while you laid beneath him, squirming and writhing in both pleasure and an instinct to get away due to your terror—he was going to do so. He was going to milk you of your orgasms relentlessly, basking in your cum as he strives to bring you as much pleasure as scum like him can give.

⤷ As he pumped three digits into your sopping cunt, juices squelching upon contact, his pace only grew more rapid; hasty with the desire to feel you clench around his fingers; soaking him in your cum as you reach your climax. Faster and faster, his eyes interlock with yours as your mouth hung open, your heavenly moans filling the room.

⤷ Yet as your eyes meet, a terrifying realization causes your heart to drop to your stomach along with the unwanted bubbling of your oncoming orgasm.

⤷ You knew him. A bitter realization as your breathing both halted and grew more unstable. You knew him, you knew him, you knew him—tears cascading at the fact—you knew him; Nagito Komaeda, the infamous lucky student in the class below you.

⤷ Through the horrific pleasure of his fingers thrusting into you, a stuttered cry escapes your lips as you sob.

⤷ “Stop! Stop, plea—ah! Komaeda, stop!” Your wails overcoming your unintentional yelps of wretched ecstacy. And paying heed to your pleas, he stops.

⤷ You feel relieved; hopeful. There’s a hope blossoming within your chest as you sought the possibility that he’d truly stop; leave you alone and never show his face to you for the remainder of your life, perhaps allowing you to forget this night ever occurred.

⤷ But once your eyes meet with Nagito’s ghostly green ones once again, you could hear the cracking of your spirit; the shattering of your hope. There’s something within his gaze. Something animalistic, something so terrifyingly carnal.

⤷ He didn’t stop. Not as you sobbed and pleaded for him to let go of you; to leave you alone. Not as you promised you wouldn’t tell a soul about this night if he’d just leave. But he didn’t leave. And he didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop.

⤷ It hurt. Perhaps not physically—violating you pushing you into heaps of orgasmic pleasure—but emotionally; mentally.

⤷ Your sobs falling upon deaf ears as he removed his fingers from within you; unsheathing his digits in which were soaked in your juices. For once throughout the time you’ve laid conscious, he’s removed himself from you. Shifting his weight onto his knees, barely straddling you.

⤷ In that moment, you saw a chance; an opportunity. And as quickly as your hope had been shattered preciously, the fragments seemed to reassemble themselves; the broken aftermath of what was once whole.

⤷ Though as you prepared yourself to dash towards your bedroom door—half-naked and vulnerable—a sickening, gutwrenching sound haunts your ears; the clanking of a belt buckle followed by the daunting friction of leather.

⤷ You needed to run, and you needed to run now. Without a moment to waste, you used your utmost strength to shove the male back, and throwing yourself off of your bed.

⤷ Your body hit the wooden floorboards with a thump as you wheezed in exasperation; the wind knocking out of you. Yet you didn’t allow the minor setback to hold you down as you shoved yourself from the floor, sprinting towards the closed door.

⤷ It was close; so close you could almost wrap your fingers around the brass knob and release yourself from the confines of your bedroom; what you now considered the encompass of Hell itself.

⤷ As your fingers brushed against the doorknob, curling it to the left and successfully opening the door, a weight shoves itself against you; forcing your body to slam against the door—painfully—shutting it.

⤷ Your blood ran cold; turning to ice at the realization of what’s to come. You were too slow.

⤷ His calloused hands clasp over your body; one over your mouth whilst the other remains firmly atop your hip, squeezing at the plush skin. His breath fanning over the shell of your ear as he mutters something you’re unable to comprehend, much too focused on the painfully audible pulsating of your heart.

⤷ You had nowhere to run, and you surely couldn’t hide anywhere within your room. You were stuck. You were too slow and now he’s trapped you within what you had once assumed was the comforting, safe confinement of your bedroom.

⤷ You could feel it; you could feel him. The unmistakable bulge pressing against your thigh serving as a searing reminder of what it is that’ll be taken from you by the arising of dawn.

⤷ Ever-so hopeful, you continue to thrash; fighting against his bludgeoning grip as you sob an onset of pleas for the possibility of persuasion. But the endeavor of humanistic covetousness is not to be underestimated.

⤷ It’s as though he’s unable to hear your begging; selectively falling deaf as he ravishes for what he yearns for. Despite his internal promising of committing such ludicrously was for you—much like all other actions he takes in his pathetic life—Nagito is bound by the foundations of his humane instincts; selfishness.

⤷ Even as he pushes himself into you, choking out an exaggerated, sinful groan as he savors the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, soaking him in your cum from your previous climax as he thrusts you into another.

⤷ He’s relentless; pounding into you as the ropes of his self-restraint are cut. The remnants of humanity long-lost within him as all that’s left is the barren chrysalis of fatal infatuation; narcissistic desire; the epitome of all that he once vowed to never become.

⤷ Over and over, he circles your clit, stimulating your nerves to draw out the cries of bliss that he adores. Your moans a mantra of pleas to his disillusioned ears.

⤷ Even when the buildup of pleasure became too much, reaching your fourth orgasm of the night rapidly, much to your dismay. The bubbles of elation became too much; it became painful.

⤷ Your legs trembled with shocks of exhaustion, jolting through your limbs in the form of cramps as you sobbed from the mental strain and the physical drain his tainted violation took on you. It hurts, it hurts so bad.

⤷ You wanted him to stop, pushing against his hips which were practically strapped to the curves of your ass, you attempted to put space between your body and his; granting yourself just the tiniest bit of relief from his unwanted touch.

⤷ But he wouldn’t allow that. He yearned to be closer to his hope—his deity—for he knew that the moments shared were temporary; a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity graced by your divinity. And he wouldn’t waste a second of it.

⤷ “Please,” Your voice hoarse from the endless amounts of crying and screaming for release from his captivity. “No more. I can’t—“ But your continuous begging was interrupted by a voice you prayed to whoever would listen that you don’t hear his wretched voice for the rest of your days; the rest of your days in which you’ll attempt to fix the pieces of yourself he’d scattered.

⤷ “But you can, my beloved hope. I believe in your ability to keep going. You’re surging with the throbs of hope! I can feel it!” He rasped. His voice is cheery and upbeat as he panted breathlessly, pushing himself towards an orgasm of his own whilst you’re forced to endure your fifth.

⤷ “No! I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!” You yelped as the crown of his cock kissed against your cervix; a painful jolt shooting up your spine as you cry out. It hurts, everything hurts. Your abused pussy leaked heaps of your cum as the fluids drizzled onto the floorboards and your inner thighs.

⤷ “Don’t lose sight of hope, my darling deity. You are capable! Conquer the putrid tendrils of despair and provide me with another dose of your glory! I beg of you, please. Allow me this moment to—“ His tangent was cut off; his insanity and dazed glorification of obsession are not allowed another second of exposure as you scream.

⤷ “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” It’s loud; your voice ringing in your ears as you clench your fists.

⤷ This man—no, this-this monster—was anything other than humane. He held not an ounce of sanity as his shaft twitched from within you at your outburst, groans escaping his lips at the sensation of you clenching as you shouted your proclamations.

⤷ This sick fuck found pleasure in the outing of his disturbing infatuation. So much so that he pressed his chest against your back as thick ropes of translucent cum fill within you; his cum.

⤷ The horrifying sensation of his heated seed gushing around his cock which still continued to pump into you—though at a much slower pace—pushed you to tears once more. You want to vomit, you want to empty all that’s inside your limp body; a body that no longer felt like your own.

⤷ He reached his climax through the use of your body as though you were a mere fleshlight; a toy simply for his volatile lust. He came inside you.

⤷ Suddenly the room was spinning, the door blending with the wall as the frame warped into unrecognizable shapes. Your body swayed—mind hazy as you swallowed back the traces of bile—before falling into the arms of the sole being you wished nothing more than despair upon.

⤷ He held you; cradled you within his arms as he whispered about how good you were. His cheeks flushed rosy with an unnatural, insane sense of longing.

⤷ “My darling deity, I can’t believe that scum like me managed to ensure you five peaks of ecstacy. What an honor for someone as trashy as me, to be nuzzled within your sacred blossom of hope. Ah, I truly am so lucky...” He rambled. It’s insane; his words, his gaze, his touch. Everything about Nagito Komaeda was—to its very core—insane.

⤷ “To think that someone as worthless as me, as purposeless as me, could be given the gift of serving you like this.” He releases an airy chuckle as he guides you to your bed, laying you to rest once more. Your exhausted figure falling limp as you hit the mattress.

⤷ He leans over you, his breath fanning over your lips as he pauses, gazing into your eyes with a moment of what you believed to be the eyes of true depravity.

⤷ “I’ll follow you to the depths of Hell if I have to. Not a moment in my life will be spent without serving you; worshipping you.“ He continues to monologue, each sentence that leaves his lips muddled with riddled devotion; a promise you pray that he won’t keep.

⤷ His lips brush against yours as the lids of your eyes weigh more by the second. You can sense the warmth of his breath as his lips press against yours; not close enough for a proper kiss yet able to rub against yours. It’s an intimate proximity, but one you’d rather run through fire than share with him.

⤷ “My goddess, I’ll hail you until my dying breath, if your sincerest hopes will allow me.” Finally, he captures your lips with his own, pulling you in for a fleeting kiss that he hesitates in breaking.

⤷ As he pulls back, eyeing your now sleeping form, he couldn’t help but smile. A smile that surely would’ve stirred fear deep within your gut as swirls of delusion masqueraded within his ghostly green hues; a visage of addiction in its rawest form. “My darling deity, I love you.”

[jaskicr]

sequel to the clothes swap featuring buffskier i wrote for this ask:

for buffskier, for some reason jaskier has to wear geralt’s armour (this is like @spielzeugkaiser’s art) and geralt realises that his armour fits jaskier extremely well. and also jaskier can lift his (rather heavy) sword and can also fight with it

As Geralt follows Jaskier back to the village, he hangs back, and if he’s doing it for the glorious view in front of him, that’s no one’s business but his. 

Those tight leather trousers really bring out Jaskier’s considerable assets, hugging Jaskier’s thighs and ass and highlighting every flex of muscle as he walks. Clearly, walking beside Roach for hours every day has done wonders for Jaskier’s legs, and Geralt stares, unable to tear his eyes away, gulping as he takes in the strength of those thighs, wondering how hard they would be able to squeeze -

Suddenly, the thighs stop moving, and Jaskier’s amused voice reaches his ears. “Geralt, are you alright? You seem rather… preoccupied.”

Geralt jerks his gaze upwards to meet Jaskier’s twinkling blue eyes. “Uh?”

Then he realises that his mouth is hanging wide open, possibly about to drool, and he quickly snaps it shut, looking away. He really needs a dip into a river later. Preferably a very cold river. 

“You good?” Jaskier asks, turning around and stepping towards him, and for a moment, Geralt mourns the loss of that wonderful view of his behind, until he’s faced with Jaskier’s chest, made broader by the bulk of Geralt’s armour.

“Hm. Yes. Um.” Geralt struggles valiantly to keep his eyes on Jaskier’s face. “Let’s. Keep going?”

“If you’re sure.” Jaskier's lips are tilted in a smirk, unfairly red lips that Geralt wants to punch. With his mouth. Fuck, what is he thinking? “Do you want to walk next to me, or do you want to follow, ah, behind?”

Geralt grunts. Jaskier has totally picked up on his not-so-subtle staring, and Geralt speeds up to walk next to Jaskier, determined not to get caught out again, and Jaskier huffs a low laugh that sends pleasant shivers up Geralt’s spine. He resolutely ignores the warmth radiating from Jaskier’s bulk as they walk side by side, Jaskier silent for once as they trace their steps back to the village.

Without the distraction of Jaskier’s chatter, Geralt’s mind wanders once again. He recalls Jaskier cutting down the nekkers with expert ease, wielding Geralt’s sword like it’s an extension of himself, swinging the sword through the air with a savage grin on his face. Gods, Jaskier’s strength and unexpected skill with a sword - Geralt used to think that Jaskier was a bumbling bard who relied wholly on Geralt to protect him, who had little strength to speak of, but the past few hours had proved him so utterly wrong.

And he has never been more glad to be wrong. Jaskier’s strength and competence with a sword is an absolutely delightful revelation.

When they reach the village, Jaskier’s stance changes, his shoulders going back and his head tilting upwards, his face schooling into a stoic mask as he falls back into the part of a witcher, and it shouldn’t be as hot as Geralt finds it. Geralt follows him as he stalks into the tavern - no, he struts, hips swaying just so, bringing Geralt’s attention, once again, to his shapely ass. He struts like he wants to conquer the world, like he’s challenging anyone to stand up to him, projecting an aura of danger that Geralt is inexplicably attracted to.

He looks away, cheeks burning. Yes, he’s only just realised that Jaskier has a rather - fine physique, but that doesn’t give Geralt the right to - to ogle him. Jaskier has always been attractive, and Geralt has always admired him - objectively, of course - and there’s no reason that this new development should fluster Geralt as much as it does.

Not that he’s flustered. He has more composure than that. He’s simply shocked, that’s all. All these years of travelling with Jaskier and he hadn’t noticed - he’s simply ashamed of his own lack of observational skills, nothing more. 

His denial sounds flimsy even to himself.

Once Jaskier has collected the payment, they fetch Roach and head out of the village, a silent consensus between them to travel a good distance from it before they change back, during which Geralt tries to contain his thoughts and wrestle them back into appropriate best friend territory.

Because Jaskier is his best friend, and he definitely doesn’t look at Geralt like that, and Geralt shouldn’t be looking at Jaskier like that.

“We’re far enough,” Geralt grunts, pulling Roach to a halt. They’ve travelled a fair distance from the village, far enough that no one should be following them, and they’re obscured by the trees if anyone does pass by. “We should. Change.”

He dismounts Roach and finds himself face to face with Jaskier, who’s standing right in front of him, arms crossed, and Geralt may be a witcher, but even his immense self control can’t stop him from sneaking a glance at the way Jaskier’s crossed arms emphasise the thickness of his biceps, pushing his chest up. 

“You know, Geralt,” Jaskier begins, eyes trailing over Geralt’s face before dipping lower, and when he continues, his voice is raspy. “I couldn’t help but notice you looking at me… quite a lot today.”

Jaskier’s gaze burns through Geralt’s body, lighting him up, and he looks away. “Hm.”

“Oh, don’t hm me, my dear bard.” A gloved finger presses against Geralt’s cheek, forcing his face back to look straight at Jaskier. “Did you think I didn’t notice? You weren’t exactly subtle.” 

There’s laughter in his voice, and something else too, something that Geralt has heard Jaskier use before, but never directed at him. He swallows audibly, and Jaskier’s gaze drops to his throat for a second before flicking back up, blue eyes bright and piercing.

“I -” Geralt’s voice is hoarse, and he clears his throat. “I wasn’t.”

“Oh, you totally were,” Jaskier murmurs with a slow grin. He takes a step closer to Geralt, the movement slow and deliberate. “If I’d known wearing your armour would get you to look at me like this, I would’ve suggested swapping clothes long ago.”

“Like… like what?” Geralt’s heart pounds loudly in his ears, and Jaskier is too close and not close enough.

“Like you want to eat me alive,” Jaskier murmurs, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, and Geralt stares. “Like you want to take your armour off me, piece by piece.”

Geralt’s mouth opens and closes, but only a faint, strangled noise comes out, and Jaskier’s face breaks into a pleased grin.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he purrs, and then he’s pressed against Geralt, all that bulk and muscle fitted under Geralt’s black armour, all that warmth right there. “Do go ahead.”

Geralt is frozen, his mind barely processing Jaskier’s invitation, and when he doesn’t move, Jaskier sighs fondly and cups his cheek with a gloved hand.

“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” he murmurs, searching Geralt’s eyes. When Geralt lets out something akin to a strangled whine, Jaskier’s proximity turning his brain to mush and making his head spin, Jaskier chuckles and leans in.

The kiss starts slow and tender, Jaskier’s lips slightly chapped as he presses his mouth to Geralt’s. Then Geralt’s brain catches up to what’s happening, realising that Jaskier is kissing him, that Jaskier is pressed against him and cupping his face with gentle hands, and Geralt deepens the kiss, placing his hands on that broad chest.

When Jaskier pulls away, breathing quick and shallow, his eyes are dark, his lips swollen. “You like seeing me in your armour, huh?” 

Geralt more than likes it. Maybe he should just let Jaskier wear his clothes all the time, which would make their travels far more interesting, and far more torturous on Geralt’s end.

“I like you,” he blurts out, and flushes at the too-honest words.

Jaskier’s eyes widen, and Geralt is about to retract his statement when Jaskier beams, delight spreading across his face, and he leans in again, pressing a soft kiss to the edge of Geralt’s mouth. “I like you too, sweetheart,” he whispers, breath hot against Geralt’s skin, and Geralt shudders. “I like you a lot.”

“Mmf.” His face is burning. “You - uh. I. You look good.” Apparently, Geralt’s brain has lost its filter, but when Jaskier’s gaze turns smouldering, he can’t really complain.

“Good, huh? Care to tell me more?”

“You look good in my clothes.” Geralt’s mouth is running, his thoughts spilling from his lips in an uncontrollable flood, unable to hold back his words under Jaskier’s heated gaze. “I like how my clothes fit you, I like how you fight -”

Jaskier crowds him back until his back hits a tree, trapping him between the tree and the solid bulk of Jaskier’s body, and then Jaskier is pressing him against the tree trunk and Geralt is gasping into the fierce, passionate kiss.

He lets his hands roam around Jaskier’s body, mapping the breadth of his chest and shoulders, relishing in the feeling of leather under his fingertips, and Jaskier presses impossibly closer, one hand bracing himself against the tree and the other dropping to rest on Geralt’s waist, sending a brand of heat through his body.

But it’s not enough, and Geralt finds himself tugging at the straps of his armour, desperate to get it off Jaskier, desperate to see, and Jaskier breaks the kiss with a raspy laugh.

“Eager, aren’t we?”

Geralt only tugs more insistently, throwing a piece of the armour off to the side. There’s something enticing about taking his armour off piece by piece when it’s on Jaskier, and his hands shake slightly as he undoes the straps. Jaskier starts nosing at his neck, and he almost goes pliant, but his determination to see Jaskier bare in front of him keeps his hands from dropping, and finally, the last piece of armour falls away, and Geralt drinks in the magnificent sight.

Jaskier’s shoulders are wonderfully broad, and Geralt skates his hands over warm skin, marvelling at the strength in them. He slips his hands down, tangling his fingers in the dark hair that decorates Jaskier’s chest, hair that Geralt has only seen glimpses of through unbuttoned shirts, hair that Geralt now tugs at appreciatively. 

“Mm, like what you see?” Jaskier rumbles lowly, and Geralt doesn’t answer, showing his appreciation by pulling Jaskier into another kiss as he wraps his arms around Jaskier, hands roaming his large, muscled back.

Suddenly, Jaskier’s hands are underneath his thighs and Geralt is being lifted, his back still pressed against the tree, and he yelps, wrapping his legs instinctively around Jaskier’s waist, arms gripping tighter around Jaskier’s neck as his body lights up in arousal.

Holy fuck.

“What -”

Jaskier swallows his exclamation, and Geralt whimpers. He’s never been lifted before, certainly not with such ease, and there’s barely any strain in Jaskier’s breathing as he continues holding Geralt up, never breaking the kiss.

Gods, Jaskier is strong, and it’s utterly thrilling.

Geralt lets his gaze trail downwards, appreciating the way Jaskier’s thick biceps bulge and flex as he bears Geralt’s weight easily, and he gives in to the urge to palm at Jaskier’s arms, trusting Jaskier not to drop him as he lets one hand fall from its grip around Jaskier to squeeze one strong bicep, enjoying the feeling of the muscles underneath his palm.

“My darling witcher,” Jaskier murmurs against Geralt’s lips. “As much as I like where this is going, perhaps we should move somewhere more comfortable.”

A rush of heat floods Geralt’s body, and he meets Jaskier’s eyes, fixed on him with something like hunger, and Geralt inhales sharply. 

He can’t wait to be devoured.

[kimnjss]

(bonus) felt weird | kth + jjk

⤑ series: less of you

⤑ pairing: fratboy!taehyung + fuckboi!jeongguk

⤑ genre: smut.

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 3.4K

⤑ warnings: cursing, slight dirty talk, mxm, anal fingering, handjob, blowjob, the quickest nipple play, dom!taehyung if you like squint, jeongguk is soft as hell tho. protected anal sex. 

⤑ chapter song: strawberries & cigarettes // troy sivan

⤑ A/N: this was not planned but a looot of you have been asking for a peak into the sideships lives so i thought i’d treat you guys!! okay, im real nervous abt this bc it’s my first member x member thing ., so i really hope you guys like it! . this also can be read outside the plot , so if you skip this part you won’t miss anything ~ 

DECEMBER 13TH, 2019 | 23:49

Thighs pressed together, Jeongguk could feel the pounding of his heart in his ears. Body frozen beside Taehyung, unconsciously holding his breath as the pictures flashed on the TV screen in front of them. Half-eaten bowl of chips between them, he tried his best to concentrate on the words coming from the main character's lips and not the fact that Tae had shown up in a pair of loose-fitting basketball shorts that still seemed to tighten around his thighs.

'We don't have to do anything', had typed the words out to ease the mood a bit, but of course, Jeongguk couldn't deny how badly he wanted to do something... anything with Taehyung. How could he not?

Dark locks falling in dark curls on his propped pillow, his soft sweet scent tickling his nostrils. Nothing too strong where it was too much to bear, just a subtle hint of something sweet that had him wanting to lean in to get a better whiff. On the verge of doing just that, but stilling when Taehyung's body shifts beside him.

Jeongguk watches with stilled breaths as Tae turns onto his side, hands resting underneath his cheek. Pretty brown eyes catching the younger's wide ones, a soft chuckle slips past Tae's lips. “Are you even watching the movie?”

“Oh, course I am!” The answer comes a bit too quickly, but he can't help it with the fact that he had just been caught gawking. Like openly gawking, mouth agape, and everything. He'd check if there was drool dribbling from the corner of his mouth, yet he had a bit more self-respect than to make this situation more humiliating that it was.

It was so unlike Jeongguk to feel this nervous, this rigid around someone he wanted to fuck. That's what this was, right? He wanted to fuck Taehyung... or have Taehyung fuck him... and that's why he invited him over, that was the sole reason he was laid in his bed right now. So why did he feel so tongue-tied? What was with this weird strum of his heart? Why couldn't he just make a damn move!?

“I don't think you're really watching...” Taehyung trails off as he scoots a bit closer to the wide-eyed boy. A single hand lifting to trace over the u-shaped collar of his shirt. “Think you've got your eyes set on something else,” There's a hushed teasing tone to Taehyung's voice, one that has the breath catching in Jeongguk's throat – cheeks darkening at the reminder of being caught.

Eyes darting over the older male's sharp features. The lazy droop of his eyes housed by those thick tantalizing eyebrows. The strong line of his nose and the adorable beauty mark at the tip that Jeongguk can't believe he hasn't tried to kiss yet. And that strong jaw, the number of kisses he'd like to leave there too... not to mention those full lips of his that looked oh so inviting.

No idea where to start, so he laid frozen under the gentle strokes of Tae's fingers against his chest – trying to figure out if he had missed the words that came out of his mouth while he was lost in his admiration.

“You don't want to tell me?” A small pout shapes Tae's lips, eyes lifting to look at Jeongguk through his long eyelashes. The heat rises up the sides and back of his neck as his mouth opens and closes, desperately trying to form words – at the same time trying to remember when he felt this frazzled in front of a guy... or girl, coming up with none on both ends. This was the first time he was at a loss of words. Movements stunned by the mere presence of a person.

The television has become nothing but background noise as slender fingers crawl down the front of Jeongguk's shirt, curling around the hem of it. “Were you thinking about me wrecking you? Turning you to a whiny mess underneath me?”

It's cute, the way Jeongguk's lips shift into a defensive pout, gaining some of his fight back as he shifts his head so he can get a better look at Taehyung's face. “I'm not whiny.” He counters, ignoring the slight whine of his voice in the very protest. Taehyung laughs, nodding his head unconvinced.

“Wanna bet?” In one swift movement, Taehyung is draping one of his legs over Jeongguk's waist – lifting his body to straddling his hips, knocking over, and spilling chips all over the freshly washed bed sheets. Jeongguk doesn't even flinch at the greasy mess staining his sheets, wide eyes focused on the attractive man on top of him.

His hips brush over against Jeongguk's as he lowers his body until their faces are only inches apart – noses practically touching. “Is this okay?” Tae's large hand lifts to cup Jeongguk's cheek gently, taking a moment to search his eyes for any sign of protest. For any indication that he misread the shy behavior as a yield of dominance, but Jeongguk is quick to nod his head – hand landing on Tae's hip for good measure.

There's a faint smile that spreads across Taehyung's lips before he's leaning in the rest of the way, taking his time with pressing his lips against Jeongguk's. A soft sigh leaves the younger's lips at the first bit of contact, head instantly tilting up to steal more of soft lip feeling.

Warmth spreads throughout his limbs from the tingling touch of their lips moving each other, slowly. A hesitant introduction that has Jeongguk's free hand raising, tangling in the boy's messy locks – holding his head still in order to feel more of him. Taste more of him, with the swipe of his tongue over soft lips.

Taehyung is opening his mouth with a groan, electric shocks of pleasure cruising through his veins as the kiss grows deeper. Fogs his brain to the point he feels delirious, just from the simple lip contact. Jeongguk feels the same, panting and trying to regulate his heart rate when their lips detach.

“That felt weird,” The younger boy breaths out, his words causing a look of confusion to take over his elder's features. Tongue swiping over his lips, he can still taste the strawberry balm fro Jeongguk's lips.

He can't help the slight flash of worry from Jeongguk's words. Weird? Who describes a kiss... a kiss like that, as weird? Straightening his back slightly, Taehyung doesn't stand from his lap but attempts to put a bit of distance between their faces. “What do you mean weird? Have you never kissed a guy before?” Maybe that's what it was? That's why it was weird, because it was his first same sex kiss, right?

Jeongguk is quick to shake his head, a cocky laugh leaving his lips. He sits up slightly, so he's able to rest his back against the headboard of his bed and his face isn't so far from Taehyung's anymore. “No. I've kissed dudes before,” He doesn't hide the roll of his big doe eyes. “Just not like that...”

The smile is returning back on Taehyung's features, taking pride in the tiny confession. 'Not like that', it didn't take a genius to figure out what he meant by that, but of course, Taehyung was a big fan of words. So he's not stopping the next set of words from falling from his lips. 

“Good weird, then?” Eyebrow quirked and a teasing smirk playing on his lips. Words laced with a playful undertone that Jeongguk is quickly catching on to. Their smirk matches as he reaches up to knit his fingers in the hair at the back of Taehyung's head, using the grip to pull his face down closer to his. “Hm, not sure. Let's do it again,”

There's roughness behind the kiss, a hunger that can only be sated with more. Tongues fighting against each other, the soft bites of Taehyung's teeth on his lips force breathy whimpers from his lips. A large hand travels between their bodies, grasping Jeongguk's length lightly through the fabric of his sweats, making his hips jerk up.

Laughter falls from Tae's lips, their lips parting as he flashes a smirk to the man below him. “Someone's sensitive,” He coos, large hand stroking Jeon's cock as he shifts and squirms with every stroke, trying to feel more than he's being given.

“Take that shirt off,” Taehyung speaks, waits for Jeongguk to reach for the bottom of his shirt before he's slipping his hand down the waistband of his sweats. Fishing through his boxers to grasp his cock and pull it from its confines. At the same time, Jeongguk is staring at his elder with lust-filled eyes, not being able to mask the moans falling from his lips from the new pressure on his cock.

There's a twist of Tae's wrist as his hand slides up and down Jeongguk's shaft, eyes lifting to find the already fucked out expression on his face. “You're getting so hard already,” He points out with a lick of his lips. “Do you like it when I play with your cock?” A teasing tone laces his words, but Jeongguk is so concentrated on getting more that he doesn't pause to chastise it.

Instead, he lets another moan fall from his lips, hips rising to hold evidence of the frantic nod of his head. Panted breaths leaving his lips that only grow breathy as Taehyung leans his body onto his, mouth latching onto the brown of his nipple – not hesitating to roll his tongue over the peaked nub.

Jeongguk is reacting instantly to the new contact, length twitching, and hand curling in the dark strands of her. “Are you sensitive here too?” Tae questions with one last teasing lick before he's lifting his head to look up at Jeongguk's face. “Bet you could come just like this, huh?”

The shake of Jeongguk's head comes instant, stilling the movement of Tae's hand on his erection which has a whimper falling from the younger's lips. But he doesn't want to come yet, doesn't want the night to end so soon and with the way Tae is talking to him, teasing him... and if the throb of his cock was any indication, he knows he won't last much longer.

All over a short little handjob, he must be wound real tight if he's getting like this from a simple stroke of the hand. “I want to suck you off,” Jeongguk's confessing what had been polluting his mind since the started their first movie. The tent formed at the front of Tae's pants only adding to his desire of wanting to feel the stretch in his jaw. Even if he's never done it before.

Taehyung doesn't waste a moment with getting off of Jeon's lap, a groaned 'Fuck yeah,' leaving his lips as he leans back beside him. Gukkie follows his movements until he's crouched between Tae's spread legs. Tattooed hand reaching up to tug the front of his shorts down just enough until his cock is springing free.

Much longer than he had expected, thicker too. Maybe his playful bragging about wrecking him did hold some merit. The tip an angry red, long veins wrapped around its entirety. A smirk plays on Tae's face as he watches the younger boy admiring his girth. “Sure you can handle me?”

Jeongguk is silencing his words with the quick way his hand wraps around the base, slowly dragging his hand up to the tip. A dribble of precum glides down the side of his length and Jeongguk has the urge to lick it up. So he does. Hot tongue swirled around his bulbous head, Taehyung had expected a bit more teasing so the shocked groan that leaves his lips is expected to Gukkie's ears.

Knowing what got himself off when he was getting head, Jeongguk is easily able to fall into the rhythm of things. Head lower inch by inch as his hand worked the portion he couldn't quite fit into his mouth. Cheeks hallowed as he bobbed his head up and down, using the sound of Tae's moans as encouragement to what he liked – what he wanted more of.

With his head tilted back just slightly and a hand buried in Jeongguk's hair, Tae can't help the warmth that washes over his body. Breath hitching as Jeongguk's eyes lifts to catch the hooded eyed stare of the man above him. He looked so good with his mouthful, big eyes glazed with lust – the sight alone has Taehyung's cock twitching against his hot tongue.

He's pulling off at the feeling, hand lazily working of his shaft. “Close already? Should I just make you cum now?” Jeongguk teases and Taehyung is coherent enough to roll his eyes. Able to lift his body until he can reach the waistband of Gukkie's shorts, tugging them down past his thighs. “You did such a good job sucking me off,” He compliments, not letting Jeongguk forget who exactly is in charge here. “Turn around for me,” The order comes directly after, words deep and demanding. Sending a shiver down Jeongguk's spine where he's turning quickly, settling on all fours and baring his ass to the younger man.

Not bothering with any banter or faked protest, done hiding the fact that he wouldn't mind – like at all – be wrecked by Taehyung. Especially now knowing how long and thick he was, the idea of him stretching him out the only thing on his mind since he first fit him into his mouth.

“Fuck, what a cute little ass,” Jeongguk's face is instantly flushing at the praise, hips moving back to show off more of his bottom. A chuckle falls from Taehyung's lips, both hands dropping onto his cheeks to spread them slightly, revealing the puckered hole. “You look so tight too,” Tae lets a glob of spit roll off of the tip of his tongue, it sliding down the crack of Jeongguk's ass and collecting at his hole.

Easily, Taehyung is fitting his cock between his cheeks, “Gonna let me fuck you open?” He wonders, grinning at the quick nod of Jeongguk's head. “Please,” He whimpers out, feeling himself grow harder just from the thought of it.

Hips rocking slowly, Tae sets a teasing pace of his cock dragging between Jeon's cheeks, the younger moving back against his thrusts – desperate for any type of friction. Tattooed hand wrapped around his shaft, shallow strokes on his member to add to the pleasure.

“Condoms and lube?” Taehyung breathes out, a groan chasing the words. Just the simple strokes against Jeongguk has him harder and more ready than he had been before. Not able to wait any longer before he's able to sink into him.

“Top drawer,” Words rushed and breathy, Jeongguk points in the direction of his nightstand. Leaning over him, Tae is able to reach the nightstand to fish through for what he needed. The position has his dick pressed firmly against Jeongguk's hole, which has him moaning back arching slightly.

Once he's retrieved what he needs, Tae is leaning back allowing a chuckle to fall from his lips at the desperate boy below him. “You're so eager,” He comments with a laugh, lip tucked between his teeth as he secures the rubber onto his length. 

“Hurry, please.” There's whine in his voice, hands dropping from his throbbing cock to spread his cheeks apart. “Fuck, you're so hot,” Tae replies, squirting a generous amount of lube onto his hand before doing the same on Jeongguk.

He doesn't waste a second with sliding his fingers past the taut hole, able to push three in with an ease that has his eyebrows raising. Jeongguk must sense his curiosity, or he's growing impatient with the quick way he says, “I already prepped,”

A chuckle falls from Tae's lips as he pulls his fingers out, “Thought you said we didn't have to do anything?” He teases, hand wrapping around his own shaft and lifting it to line the head up with Jeongguk's hole.

“Yeah, but I hoped-” There's strain in his voice, words being cut off by the stretch of Taehyung's head entering him. He takes his time, watching as Jeongguk swallows his deeper inch by inch until his hips are pressed flush to his ass. “Ah, fuck.” Gukkie grunts, letting out the breath he had been holding since he first pushed in.

Hands gripping his hips, Taehyung pulls back with a long groan. “You're still so tight,” He points out. “It feels good, keep going.” Jeongguk urges him on and without any hesitation, Tae is pushing forward again.

It takes only a few thrusts for them to fall into rhythm, Jeongguk pushing back each time Tae is surging forward. That familiar warmth has begun to spread through Jeongguk's chest, the same feeling he had felt when they had first kissed. He can't help but wonder if Taehyung is feeling it too. 

One large hand set on his waist, the other buried in his hair is all he can manage to ground himself. Buried deep inside of Jeongguk, yet the pressure around his cock is the... second thing on his mind. It's hard to ignore the swell of his heart from the sound of the younger male's moans, him panting and asking for more.

The simple booty call he had thought he came here for taking on a different meaning, so quickly and so strong that he didn't have it in him to fight it. The only thing heard around the room was the steady slap of skin, mixed with their breathy moans – but Jeongguk and Tae are sure the frantic pound in their chest drowns out that noise.

Reaching around his body, Taehyung is able to wrap his hand around Jeongguk's shaft. Could tell the boy was close with the way he was withering beneath him. And with just a few timed strokes of his shaft, he's spilling out with a grunted breath – body collapsing forward onto the mattress, a string of curse words leaving his lips.

Just from the sight of Jeongguk falling apart has Tae teetering over the edge. Carefully, he's sliding from inside of him. Fingers working to peel the damp condom from his shaft as Jeongguk turns his body to lay onto his back. As soon as the condom is whisked away, Jeongguk's hand is reaching to wrap around Taehyung's shaft.

Stroking him all the way to his release. Sweaty damp hair, flushed cheeks, and dazed eyes – both boys are sure they look a mess to the other right now. Little did they know, they're both in agreement with how handsome they look. “Oh, fuck!” Tae's calling out, legs stiffening as his arousal shoots from his shaft, landing in thick streaks on Gukkie's abdomen.

He works him all the way through his release, reaching for the blanket to wipe the arousal from his chest and stomach as Taehyung falls into the space beside him. There's a permanent smile on Jeongguk's face as he turns onto his side, admiring the post-orgasm face beside him.

“Did that feel weird too?” He can't help the words from falling from his lips after moments of just laying there in silence. Taehyung's eyes had fallen closed in the past time, but they were now peaked open, taking in Jeongguk's soft features.

He's nodding his head. “Yeah. But a good weird.”

Jeongguk is smiling wide in agreement, a lazy arm reaching up to tangle in Tae's messy hair. Pulling his head down so he's able to press a smiling kiss to his lips. Tae kisses him back slowly, hand reaching up to cup the side of his face.

“You want to go eat?” Tae's asking causally, and if Jeongguk wasn't taken by then he surely was now. Amazed with the way he lucked out with this guy that was so much like him, but so different at the same time. It all worked.

Yet, there was one problem.

A problem that has a pink tint dusting over Gukkie's cheeks. “Yes, I would like that a lot... I just, uh... my legs are still tingling.” The grin that spreads onto Taehyung's lips can't be described as anything but triumphant.

He's propping his body up slightly so he can get a better look at the male, grin growing by the second. “I told you I'd wreck you.” There's pride in his voice, it only growing heavier by the moment. “And don't think I didn't hear you whining, Mr. I don't whine,”

Jeongguk is rolling his eyes instantly, masking the smile that fights its way onto his lips. Not willing to deny that he's ready to become a whiny mess for this man whenever he wanted, but not willing to stroke his ego either.

So he takes for kissing him instead, quickly becoming addicted to the stutter in his chest from the feeling of soft lips pressed against his.

– girl code rule #1: never, ever, under any circumstances fall for your best friend’s crush. but what happens when your best friend’s crush checks all the boxes of your ideal guy… and to make matters worse… he’s crazy about you too.

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. to be added to the taglist, send me an ask !! feedback is highly !! appreciated, it’s the motivation i need to keep the fic going nd fun for you guys!!<33

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Ten: When it Rains

a/n: hi besties!! This one is... tough I’m ngl to y’all. It is the second to the last chapter which is so wild to think about, but alas all good things must come to an end. Hopefully you don’t hate me too much by the end of it but feel free to vent in my inbox :))) much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character (Halani <3)

Warnings: swearing, some suggestive humor, ANGST (!!)

Word Count: 7.4 k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and nine

“Is that my shirt?”

“No,”

Alani squints at the cartoon bee printed on Harry’s white t-shirt and crosses her arms in disbelief. 

“Yes it is! I’ve been looking for it everywhere,”

“Don’t worry, you can have it back soon,” he admits, crawling back into his bed with an apologetic kiss to her pouting lips. “Doesn’t smell like you anymore,”

“Thief,”

Harry scoffs and props himself up on an elbow. “Don’t act like my Spice World jumper isn’t hanging at the foot of your bed right now,”

“You left it there,” Alani defends. “I was merely being kind and looking after said hoodie because it was abandoned by its owner,”

“Oh yeah and you��ve fought real hard to reunite us,”

“Can we get back to the main issue at hand? Which is that I’m kinda pissed off that you look better in that shirt than I do.”

Harry chuckles to himself and presses an affectionate kiss to her temple. “You’re too kind.”

Alani rests her cheek against his chest and listens to the rain pattering harshly against the window, admiring the flashes of lightning that illuminate the dimly lit room. Harry had convinced her to stay the night, worried about her driving home alone in the storm, and he was met with very little resistance. Secretly, he thanks the rain gods for allowing him another night to hold her close. 

********

“H, you gotta tell her,” Jeff had warned the previous night. “I already pushed the flight back a week—”

“I know,” Harry huffed. “I just need a little more time.”

Jeff sighed, rubbing his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. “You have until this weekend when we go away with the girls. One week in Maui, and then it’s back home. I’m sorry.”

********

Harry’s stomach turns remembering the conversation, but he decides to push all the nagging thoughts to the back of his mind and focus on the present. 

“You all packed?” he asks, trailing his fingers up and down her arm. 

Alani drapes her leg over his hip and nods. “Been packed since last week.”

She had been ecstatic the day after Mila and Chad’s wedding when Harry invited her to tag along on the couple’s trip with Jeff, Tom, and their significant others. His eagerness to include her in his friend group was not only reassuring, but exciting. It felt like their lives were coming together, even more so after she had introduced him to her parents. They, of course, had adored him and quickly given their seal of approval. While Alani knew that it was ultimately her choice, it still felt good to have support from the most important people in her life, and she hoped to win his friends over just as easily. Harry, on the other hand, had no doubts that she would fit right into his chosen family. Her name had been cautiously dropped during a weekly FaceTime call with his mother and sister, and he was overjoyed when they enthusiastically grilled him for details. 

What Harry was less sure of, however, was how Alani would react upon hearing that his vacation was up and that he would be headed back to L.A. in a week’s time. It was still early in their relationship and an indeterminate break seemed less than ideal. He had tried to convince both Jeff and the label that he could finish the album in Hawaii, but the same couldn’t be said for Jeff Bhasker, Mitch, Tom, and his new bassist, Adam, who all had families waiting for them back on the mainland. It was too risky personally and financially, so Harry reluctantly negotiated one last week to persuade Alani that a long-distance relationship wouldn’t be a death sentence. 

“What d’you wanna watch?” he asks, sitting up against the headboard to turn on the T.V. 

Alani sighs and settles deeper into his side. “When Harry Met Sally,”

“But it’s not Christmas or New Year’s,”

“So?”

“So,” Harry explains. “We have to wait ‘til the holidays, wouldn’t be right otherwise,”

Alani scoffs and peers up at him with a judgemental look. “So I guess Serendipity is also out of the question?”

“We’ll have all Christmas to get through that list, darlin’,”

Her stomach flips at his suggestion of their future holiday plans. Privately, she had wondered about such things, as well, including what gifts she might get him or where they would spend the holidays. Though still months away, it suddenly felt within reach. 

“Fine,” Alani softens. “The Notebook,”

“And let you drool over what’s-his-face?” Harry pokes. “No fuckin’ way,”

Alani pinches his side and sits up. “Would you stop being insecure about that? I’ve already told you I was just kidding that time,”

“Yeah well, it still stings,”

“Why don’t you tell me your celebrity crush? You know, so I can be totally fine about it because it doesn’t mean anything,”

Harry shrugs, the corners of his lips turning into a playful smirk. “Don’t have one,”

“Liar,”

“M’serious,”

“Why, because you’ve already dated them?”

“Hey,” Harry pouts. “That was a bit snippy,”

Alani’s muscles tighten. She hadn’t realized that his dating history was a sore spot, but she takes a deep breath and plants a sweet kiss to his jaw as an offering of peace. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,”

“S’alright. Truce?”

“Deal,”

“Jennifer Aniston,”

“Huh?”

“My celebrity crush,” Harry explains shyly. “When I was younger,”

Alani giggles lightly. “I see. Good taste, she’s hot,”

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna leave me for her too,”

“I just might,”

“Can’t say that I blame you,”

“Look I know this is a cute little bit we do,” Alani sits up, her gaze dead-set on Harry’s to communicate the seriousness behind her words. “But I just want you to know that I feel so lucky to be with you. I’m not going anywhere any time soon,”

Harry swallows harshly. It was everything he’d ever wanted to hear and it kills him that he can’t return the sentiment with full honesty. A little less than a week is all he has to prove that even though he physically has to go, his heart will remain wherever Alani is. “Me either,”

Another round of thunder booms outside and the lights fizzle out, leaving the room completely dark save for the intermittent flashes of lightning that gently illuminate the room. 

“So much for watching a movie, huh?” Alani sighs. 

“I think I know some other ways we can keep ourselves entertained.”

********

Harry sets a steaming cup of tea down onto the table in front of Alani and she looks up from her tube of nail polish curiously. Harry flashes a dimpled grin in her direction and whistles a familiar tune, one that she had heard in the studio when he was busy doing his Bob Dylan impression. 

“What’re you singing?”

“Hm?”

“The song,” she clarifies. “You were singing it the other day, what is it?”

Harry serves her plate of hash browns and shrugs. “Dunno, just a little tune ‘ve been workin’ on,”

“It’s nice,”

“Thanks, sweets,” he offers, setting her food down and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Hey Alani,” Jeff interrupts, stepping into the kitchen with his cellphone pressed to his shoulder.

“Glenne wants to know if you’re okay with her setting up a spa thing for you guys,”

"Yeah, definitely,” Alani perks up. 

“Cool, thanks.”

“Look at you,” Harry teases, taking a bite of his toast coated in strawberry jam. “Minglin’ with the girls,”

“They’re not even here yet,” 

He scans over her appearance and his brows furrow, hit with the sudden realization that she’s dressed in formal attire. 

“What’s with the fancy outfit”

“I have a meeting, remember?”

“With?”

Alani blows on her freshly painted nails and holds up her other hand for Harry to do the same. 

“My senior advisor. We’re going over my research project,”

Harry’s brows raise. “Smarty-pants,”

Alani had scheduled her meeting with Dr. Hudson months ago and had, truthfully, forgotten all about it until she had received a courtesy email the day prior. She had been working on her proposal in the spare minutes she had away from Harry, which were few and far between, but she knew the initial meeting would be much more casual. Alani checks the time on her phone and stands quickly when she realizes that she is supposed to meet Dr. Hudson in  less than thirty-minutes. 

“Gotta go,” she offers, shoveling potatoes into her mouth and grabbing her bag. 

Harry ceases blowing on her nails and kisses the back of her hand before sticking out his lips for a kiss of his own. “Good luck, darlin’. Meet me at the studio after?”

“Sure thing, sunshine. See you later.”

********

“How did the Joni Mitchell piece go? You never told me,” Dr. Hudson questions, taking a sip of her coffee. 

Alani offers a shy smile and toys with the hem of her skirt. “A flop,”

“Just one more closer to the winner,”

“Yeah,” Alani sighs, stirring her smoothie. “Maybe it’s time to move on from that,”

The professor shoots her a disapproving look and sets her drink down. “Alani—”

“I just think maybe there’s more realistic—”

“You are not giving up,” Dr. Hudson reassures her. “You’ve come too far and you’re a terrific writer. One of the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of teaching. These things take time,”

Alani nods gently, her lips pursed in a tight smile. “Thank you, that really means a lot,”

“What are you working on right now?”

Absolutely nothing, Alani thinks, but then she remembers the half-written article about Harry sitting in her files. 

“A short piece about… a local musician,”

Dr. Hudson’s brows raise, intrigued, and she nods. “That sounds interesting. Definitely more personal,”

You have no idea. “Thanks. I mean, it’s not really anything—”

“I’d love to read it when you’re finished,” the professor continues. “What’s the scope?”

Alani thinks, trying not to give too much incriminating detail about her subject or their relationship. 

“Well,” she starts, hesitant. “He’s writing new music and working on his first album. I guess I kind of want to follow his journey and redefinition of success in the music industry,”

Dr. Hudson hums. “I love it. Send me a draft.”

Alani swallows and takes a minute to consider the offer. Surely there couldn’t be anything wrong about sharing her work privately with her advisor. She had been so excited about the potential of the article when it was first started, but it had since been neglected like so many of her other rejected pieces. Starting again seemed exciting, and she knew that Harry would be pleased to play such an important role in making her dreams come true. That had, after all, been the initial terms of their agreement. 

“Okay,” Alani accepts. “I will.”

********

Harry draws out the last note and Mitch lets the chord ring between them for a moment. 

“I think that’s the one,”

“Yeah, I liked that progression better,”

“Hope you got that, Bhasker,” Mitch calls to Jeff in the sound booth, who gives a thumbs up in response. 

Harry continues humming, his head still bobbing to the tune, when he hears the studio door creak unpleasantly. His eyes shoot up to find Alani wincing and timidly stepping into the room. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,”

He softens and beckons her over. “Never an interruption, sweets,”

Alani slots herself between his legs and wraps her arms around his neck, giving a gentle peck to the tip of his nose before pressing their lips together.

“How’s the weather?”

“Just got a lot sunnier,”

“Meeting go well?”

She nods and twists a lock of his chestnut hair between her fingers. “Yeah, actually,”

“Then we should celebrate!” Harry perks up, peppering a kiss to her cheek. “Dinner, wine, movie, the whole shebang,”

Alani frowns, thinking back to the article she promised Dr. Hudson. “Hmmm, raincheck?”

Her boyfriend deflates. “You’re ditching me?”

“Just for one night,” she explains, pulling him closer. “I wanna finish up some school stuff before our trip. Otherwise I won’t be able to give you my full attention,”

Harry pouts, but he nods understandingly. “‘Kay,”

“I’m sorry, sunshine. I’ll miss you tons,”

“Ditto, sweets,”

Alani presses her forehead against his and her fingertips wander through the growing curls at the nape of his neck. “Please don’t be upset,”

Harry smiles warmly and smoothes his hands up and down her back. “Never, m’love. Could never be upset with you,”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he nods, planting a sweet kiss to her lips. “Hey, I wanna play you somethin’,” 

Alani grins and pulls back a bit to read his expression. “Let’s hear it,”

Harry grabs the guitar next to him and slings it over his shoulder before adjusting the capo. The song starts sweet and gentle, his voice light to match the tune. 

And oh we started 

Two hearts in one home 

It’s hard when we argue 

We’re both stubborn I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home 

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home 

Alani watches in awe as he pours so much emotion behind every word, his vocals effortlessly powerful and rich. She claps when the song finishes and leans in for a kiss. 

“I love it,”

“S’not finished yet,” Harry shrugs, still fiddling with the strings. “Just the chorus right now,”

“Will you teach it to me?”

His brows raise in surprise. “You play?”

“No,” Alani admits. “But I have a feeling you’re a good teacher,”

“Well, let’s see what you got,”

Alani turns and Harry props the guitar in her lap, his arms wrapping around her as he guides her into the right position. His left hand demonstrates the beginning chord and she replaces his fingers on the fretboard to try for herself. She strums and the beginning note resonates in near-perfect pitch. 

“Hey,” Harry beams. “You’re a regular Hendrix,”

He continues positioning her fingers over the right spaces and letting her strum, humming the lyrics softly into the shell of her ear. 

“We don’t argue that much,” Alani defends playfully. 

Harry chuckles and kisses her temple. “Maybe not, but we’re really good at makin’ up.”

“Easy, Styles.”

********

Harry: Hungry?

Alani peels her eyes away from the computer screen and reads the message lighting up her phone. 

Alani: Not really

Harry: …

Harry: oh 

She laughs and pads over to the window. Sure enough, Harry holds up two bags and flashes a cheesy grin down below. 

“Need a study break?”

“I’ll meet you at the door.”

Harry makes himself comfortable in the middle of her bed and unpacks the bags. 

“I’ve got a California and a spicy tuna for my favorite girl,” he announces. “With a side of eel sauce,”

“And the world's best boyfriend goes to Mr. Harry Styles,” Alani grins, taking a seat next to him. 

He smirks and pulls out his own order of miso soup and sushi. “How’s the homework comin’ along?”

“Not too shabby,”

“Glad to hear it,”

“Hey, what time do I meet you at the airport tomorrow?” she asks, dipping her roll in the sauce. 

Harry freezes and turns to her with confusion written all over his face. “I’m sorry, did my girlfriend just insinuate that we’re not leaving for the airport together?”

“I really need to finish this,” Alani explains. “It’s almost there,” 

“Two nights?” he complains. 

Alani nudges him with her shoulder and shakes her head. “We’re gonna be spending an entire week together, non-stop. You’re gonna get sick of me,”

“Never,” Harry rebuts. “Not possible,”

“Just one more night,” Alani bargains. “Then I’m all yours, no interruptions.”

He nods and takes a sip of his soup. “Alright, deal.”

You have to tell her, Jeff’s voice rings in his mind. 

********

The airline stewardess ushers Harry and Alani to their seats while Scott and Miles settle down a few rows behind. She didn’t know exactly what to expect from first-class, but suddenly the perks of having a famous boyfriend increased tenfold by the sight of their luxurious accommodations.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Alani asks while Harry hovers over his chair. 

“Sitting, or I was about to,”

“And you’re not even gonna offer rock-paper-scissors for the window seat?”

Harry shakes his head with an amused chuckle. “No because I already know that you’re gonna get up to pee every five minutes,”

“Not true,”

“It is too true and it’s exactly why we can’t cuddle while we fall asleep,”

“Or maybe the reason is because I’m claustrophobic and I just don’t wanna hurt your feelings,”

Harry frowns. “Really?”

“No,” Alani admits, taking the aisle seat. “I just said that so you’d give me the window,”

“Get up, we’re switching,”

“Thank you, sunshine! You’re the best,”

Harry slumps into his new chair and crosses his arms. “Forty-five minutes and we’re already fighting like an old married couple,”

“Oh really?” Alani smirks. “Is that what old married couples argue about? Who gets the window seat?”

“And leaving the toilet seat up, going antique shopping—” 

“—What old married couples have you been hanging out with—?”

“—Picking up the kids from school,”

Alani presses a kiss to his shoulder and rests her head in the crook of his neck. Her eyelids are still heavy from staying up the night before, but her article was completely finished and sent off to Dr. Hudson just like she’d promised. Now, she could enjoy her vacation free of any worry or obligation, completely focused on the perfect boy still rambling next to her. 

“But, obviously I mean that doesn’t count, right?” Harry asks, craning his neck and smiling softly when he sees that his girlfriend has already dozed off. He kisses the top of her head gently and lets his own eyes flutter close with a deep, contented breath. 

********

“And then I’ll have to repaint it, but I haven’t decided on a color yet,” Glenne explains to Alani as they stroll through the airport. 

Alani hums. “It was your grandmother’s?” 

“Well, it was somebody’s grandmother’s. We picked it up at this little antique shop in Santa Monica.”

Jeff escorts Glenne into the shuttle car while Harry and Alani share a knowing look and stifle their laughter. They shuffle into the back seats as Tom and his wife, Jenny, claim the middle row. 

“So you’re a journalist?” Jenny asks, turning in her seat eagerly to face Alani. 

“Not quite,” she explains with a polite smile. “Still a student, but hopefully someday,”

Jenny nods and twirls the ring around her finger. “Sounds exciting. Maybe you can hitch a ride on tour with this one and do some writing there.”

“Yeah,” Alani smiles, settling further into Harry’s side. “Maybe.”

The idea of traveling the world with Harry and being a part of the excitement of touring the album was something she had considered briefly, but hadn’t allowed herself to fully indulge until this moment. It was already thrilling to see him polish the songs he had begun during his trip, but she could only imagine how much more special it would be to see him perform them for the rest of the world. A twinge of jealousy sparks at the thought of having to share any part of him with the public, but Alani knows that his gifts are much too special to keep all for herself. Harry was golden and he deserved to shine in all of his radiant glory. That was exactly what she had penned in her article, and she said it not because he was her boyfriend and there were clear personal investments, but because she knew it was true even before he had shown any romantic interest in her. 

“What’s tour like?” Alani pipes up as Harry watches the landscape out his window. 

He considers it for a moment and clears his throat. “Fun, mostly. Can be tiring,”

“Lots of partying and adoring fans?”

“No,” he chuckles to himself. “Not so much the partying. Enthusiastic fans, sure,”

Alani narrows her eyes. “No partying?”

“Nope,” Harry reiterates. “Don’t really like to do all that stuff when I’m working. Also just didn’t wanna…”

He trails off and Alani waits a beat to see if he’ll continue. “Didn’t wanna?”

“Fuck it up,” he finishes. “You know, like, be the one who ruined a good thing for a little bit of fun.”

She lets his words settle in, rubbing a reassuring circle on the back of his hand. “Makes sense. Sounds really responsible of you to do that.”

Harry presses a soft kiss to her temple and resumes his study of the scenery. They chat amongst their friends for the remainder of the drive and Alani immediately presses Glenne and Jenny for information about her boyfriend in his younger years. They indulge her inquiries and ask their own questions, deciding privately after a few minutes that her and Harry are a good fit. 

When the group arrives at the resort, Glenne takes charge and instructs them all to meet at the lobby for lunch in twenty minutes. They collect their keys and head up to their respective rooms, which are all located on the very top floor. 

“What a view,” Alani muses as she takes in the sight from their private balcony. 

Harry admires the wonder on her face and nods, his eyes not leaving her side profile. “You’re tellin’ me,”

“Let’s never go home,” she poses, arms snaking around his torso. “Let’s stay here forever, just me and you,”

His throat tightens as he thinks back to the inevitable conversation waiting for them. Harry didn’t know why it was so hard to think about leaving because he had every intention of keeping touch and making their relationship work at all costs. But there was a part of him, a very tiny recess in the back of his mind, that feared the possibility of Alani not feeling the same. 

“Yeah,” he agrees with a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose. “Whatever you want, sweets,”

Alani senses a shift in his demeanor, but she can’t read it. “You okay?”

“Never better,” Harry swallows, mustering up a small smile. “But I am hungry,”

She isn’t entirely convinced that there isn’t something bothering him, but she decides not to push it and tightens her grip around his waist, instead. 

“Race you to the lobby.”

“You’re on.”

********

“You’ve never seen Finding Nemo?”

“Was I s’posed to?”

“My god,” Alani marvels. “You know, I’m starting to believe those rumors that you were grown in a lab,”

Harry’s brow raises and he blinks. “That I was what?”

The restaurant that Glenne and Jeff chose features an aquarium tunnel at the entrance, much to both Harry and Alani’s excitement. Fish, large and small, swim around them and the pair take turns pointing out their favorite colorful species. The Hull’s snap photos for their four year-old daughter, but Jenny also secretly captures one of Harry and Alani with their hands clasped under the mesmerizing blue lighting as a keepsake for her friend. 

“Add Finding Nemo to our movie list,” Alani says, admiring a clownfish that swims close to the glass. 

“S’it  gonna make me cry?”

“Probably,”

“Goddamnit,” 

Alani giggles softly and turns her head away from the glass to silently observe Harry under the lighting of the rippling water. The combination of his serene features and the sound of Billie Holiday’s I’ll Be Seeing You over the sound system creates a perfect image in her mind, one that makes her afraid to blink, lest it be gone forever. Harry glances over at her through the corner of his eye and his lips curl. 

“Checkin’ me out?”

“Always,”

“Like whatcha see?”

“Love it.”

His heart nearly stops at her words, but before he has a chance to process their implication, the hostess calls on their group. 

“And I’ll have the piña colada,” Harry orders once they're seated. 

“Oh my god, H,” Glenne laughs from across the table. “That reminds me, remember your birthday last year when James got trashed and hoarded the karaoke machine for, like, two hours?”

“Ruined that song forever,” Jeff quips, reliving the memory of the Late-Late host drunkenly serenading the entire party with the same song on repeat. 

Harry cringes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I try not to,”

Alani watches as they reminisce on the event, adding their own details and pieces to the puzzle. It’s amusing to watch, but a small part of her also has to fight the pang of exclusion settling into the pit of her stomach. She feels guilty for being affected by it knowing, logically, that it isn’t intentional or malicious in any way. Still, Alani is painfully reminded of the vast differences between their worlds. Harry had gotten to know practically every part of her life, including her family, but there was still so much that she didn’t know about his. It was something she worked hard not to dwell on, given the novelty of their relationship, but she also worried that fear and insecurity would prevent her from investing what little of her heart Harry hadn’t claimed yet. 

“Who was it that started dancing on a table and almost broke a chandelier?” Tom asks, wracking his brain. 

“I think it was Ken—” Jeff hesitates, clearing his throat. “Actually, I don’t remember,”

Harry shifts in his seat beside Alani and reads over the menu, quickly changing the subject. “What’re you gonna get?”

“I don’t know,” Alani admits. “Everything looks so good,”

“Oh look,” Jenny pipes up across from Harry. “They’ve got your fav, the mango sorbet. I wonder if it’s as good as the one in Italy,”

Harry beams and reads over the item. “Oh yeah, that was amazin’,” 

Alani files the detail to the back of her mind. She hadn’t known mango was his favorite flavor of anything, and while it was a trivial detail, she realized that there were so still many little details about him that she wanted to know. Harry had made such an effort to remember everything about her, like her go-to sushi order and the fact that she always saved the kiwis for last in her fruit salad, so it made her feel a touch guilty that she hadn’t made the same effort. 

“Wanna share the coconut shrimp?” Alani asks with a gentle nudge to his shoulder. 

“Oh, uh—”

“He’s allergic,” Glenne says offhandedly, not cold or condescending, but more in the same way that an older sister would. 

“Oh my god,” Alani’s eyes widen. “I’m so sorry,”

Harry laughs lightly and shrugs. “S’okay, I’d let you poison me,”

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” Glenne apologizes, reaching her hand out to Alani. “I thought you knew.”

Alani accepts the hand and waves away her concern. “No, don’t worry about it. I didn’t know, actually.”

“We can stop talking about my defects now,” Harry teases. “‘M not dyin’,”

He leans in closer to Alani and presses a kiss to her temple. “But if I was, it’d be an honor to have my last meal with you.”

She responds with a soft smile before returning her attention back to the menu. His sentiments, however sweet, unfortunately did very little to soothe the embarrassment of her mini faux pas. It was irrational, Alani knew this, but it made her wonder what else she didn’t know and what bigger secrets he was potentially keeping. Whose name had Jeff meant to say earlier to identify the mystery dancer at Harry’s party, and why had it created an awkward shift in the air? She decides not to let the spiraling questions spoil her fun and takes a generous sip of her cocktail to avoid them for the time being. 

********

Harry sets the room key on the nightstand next to their king sized bed and lets himself sink down into the soft mattress. The group had spent the entire day sightseeing, from botanical gardens to scenic beaches, but he was really itching for some quality time alone with Alani. Lately, their time together had been cut frustratingly short by work, school, and life in general. Even when they were seated right next to each other with arms linked or fingers interlocked, she felt far away and he didn’t know why. He hoped that this trip would allow them time to reconnect and solidify their relationship before he had to return to California. 

“Mini bar,” Alani comments, kicking her shoes off and wandering over to the small refrigerator in their suite. “Who’s paying again?”

“The label,”

“Thank you Columbia Records,”

She swipes a few bottles of tequila before climbing into the bed next to Harry. 

“Wanna play a game?”

Harry props himself up on his elbow and nods. “What kinda game?”

“Never have I ever,” Alani explains. “But instead of putting your finger down, you take a shot,”

“Sounds dangerous,”

“It’ll be fun. You can go first if you want,”

He hums and nods in agreement before sitting up to face her. “‘Kay. Never have I ever...named my car after a musician,”

“Cheap shot,” Alani narrows her eyes, taking a sip from the bottle of Jose Cuervo. 

“Your turn,”

She fiddles with the bottle cap, a question already in mind, though she isn’t sure if she should ask it. 

“Never have I ever… dated a model,”

Harry’s brow furrows, but he opens his own bottle slowly and takes a sip. “So it’s that kind of never have I ever,”

“Just trying to keep it interesting,” Alani shrugs innocently. 

“Right. Never have I ever slept with a guy named David,”

Her eyes widen, but she laughs half-heartedly and takes a sip. “Jeez, okay. Never have I ever—”

“Wait, so you two actually…” Harry interrupts, trailing off at the end. 

“I mean,” Alani starts, her eyes wandering to the ceiling. “Yeah, a long time ago,”

“How long ago?”

“Okay, maybe this was a mistake—”

Harry shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. I’ll play nice,”

“Alright,” Alani accepts. She knows that she should probably steer the game back onto safer territory, but the wound has been re-opened and she can’t resist the urge to keep picking at it. “Never have I ever slept with a fan,”

Harry takes a slow sip. “Never have I ever cheated on my partner,”

The bottle stays put in Alani’s hand. “Never had I ever gone on a vacation with my partner before this trip,”

The tequila washes over his tongue bitterly like the faint memories that it symbolizes. “Never have I ever dated someone just for the publicity,”

The bottle in Alani’s hand doesn’t move, much to Harry’s relief, but her mind is not as tranquil. 

“Never have I ever told someone I loved them when I didn’t,” she says slowly.  

Harry takes another shot and it burns all the way down. “Why are we doin’ this?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t wanna play anymore,”

“Alani,” he starts, springing to his feet when she leaves the bed. “Hey, look at me, please,”

She blinks back the tears that threaten to spill over her lower lashes before turning to him. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid game,”

“S’just all out of context,” Harry offers, reaching for her hands. “Wasn’t the right way to have all of those conversations,”

Alani takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, you’re right,”

“What’s really botherin’ you, hm sweets?” He coos, bringing her cold knuckles to his warm lips. “Tell me, please?”

She releases a shaky breath and tries to sift through the fog in her brain for the right answer.

 “I don’t know, really, I just,” Alani hesitates. “Am I a bad girlfriend?”

“No,” Harry says quickly, his hands lifting to cup her face. “God no, you’re the best,”

“Then why didn’t I know that your favorite ice cream flavor was mango? And why didn’t I know that you were allergic to coconut, and why—”

“Hang on, is that what this is all about?” he questions. “Cause I’ll go eat an entire coconut right now,”

Alani laughs lightly and pinches her eyes shut. “No, it’s not about that. I just feel like you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met and you make me feel so fucking special and, God, I just wanna be good enough for you because—”

Harry holds his breath and watches as her eyes gloss over. 

“Because I love you,” she finishes, voice small. “More than I ever thought possible,”

His own eyes sting, but he doesn’t fight the tears that fall as he presses his lips to hers firmly. 

“I love you, too,” Harry murmurs. “I love you so fuckin’ much it drives me crazy,”

Alani chuckles softly. “Ditto,”

“I’ve been wanting to say it for ages, can’t believe you beat me to it.”

“Guess you’re not the only one full of surprises.”

********

The early morning sunlight creeps gently into Harry and Alani’s room, casting a soft, golden glow onto the bare skin that peeks through the white duvet. Harry stirs first, a strand of Alani’s hair tickling his nose and making him smile. He prys his heavy eyelids open and winces at the dull aching of his head aggravated by the light. Alani hears his muffled groan and sighs, willing the sun to go back down and let her sleep a few more hours. 

“Mornin’ sweets,” he rasps with a warm kiss to her bare shoulder. 

She peels her own tired eyes open and flashes a sleepy grin. “Good morning, sunshine,”

“How’d you sleep?”

“Super. You?”

Harry props himself up on his elbow and rests his chin in his palm as he admires the traces of sleep still on her face.

“Just swell.”

Alani chuckles lightly and reaches a hand up to comb through his unruly bedhead. His skin is warm to the touch, and the light from the window casts a heavenly glow around his visage. She pokes her finger into his dimple, which elicits a soft laugh and makes his smile grow wider. They stay intertwined under the sheets as the sun fully rises and soak up their own details to keep as souvenirs from this moment. Alani takes in the scent of vanilla and the juxtaposition of Harry’s inked bicep against the plain, white sheets. He stores away the image of her sleepy, mocha eyes and the pink, manicured fingernails that trail up and down his arm. Neither of them are sure exactly how long they remain in this moment, for all they know it could be hours or days. But whatever the duration, it doesn’t seem to be enough. I need more time, Harry had told Jeff, but there was no more left to give. He had to tell her, and it was now or never. 

“Hey,” he begins carefully. “I need to tell you something,”

Alani sits up to be eye level with him and nods. “Anything,”

Harry waits a beat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and pressing his lips to her bare shoulder before letting the confession spill out. 

“I have to go back to L.A.,”

 “I kinda figured,”

He draws in a deep sigh of relief. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Alani shrugs. “Hilo isn’t exactly Hollywood,”

“I asked for more time, but the label—”

“No, I get it. So… when? Next month?”

“Friday,”

Alani’s brows furrow. “This Friday?”

“Yeah,” Harry admits with a gulp. 

“The last day of our trip?”

“Yes,”

Her heart drops into her stomach and she feels sick. It all made sense now why Harry’s mood had shifted when she jokingly asked him not to leave, and why he had been so insistent on spending as much time together as possible this week. Their game of never have I ever turned instantly defensive when asked about his dating history. Never had I ever gone on vacation with my partner before this trip. Never have I ever told someone I loved them when I didn’t. He had whisked her away on a farewell trip and God knows who else had been in her place before, or worse, who would be in it next. Harry was saying good-bye. 

“Wait,” Alani says finally, mind still racing too fast to process. “How long have you known?”

“Alani—”

“How long?”

Harry swallows. “Couple of weeks,”

“You knew for weeks and you didn’t tell me?” she questions incredulously.

“I tried—”

“You know that I hate surprises, you know how I feel about plans—”

“I’m sorry,” Harry insists, sitting up straighter. “I wanted to tell you so many times, but it just never felt right,”

Alani rolls her eyes. “So what, you were just gonna leave a fucking sticky note on my pillow and hope for the best?”

“Don’t say that—”

“Is that why you brought me here?” she asks, voice hoarse. “Is that why you gave me this necklace? A souvenir of our little summer fling so you could leave with a clear conscience?”

Harry’s jaw tightens. “How could you even think that?”

“Because maybe it’s true. Why else would you wait until the very last minute to tell me about this?”

“Maybe we should take a minute,” he suggests, the whites of his eyes now bloodshot. “Before we say something we’ll regret,”

“I think I already did.” Alani admits. Never have I ever told someone I loved them when I didn’t. 

Harry’s head pounds and he feels like he’s drowning, treading water in every direction only to be dragged further into the current. He quickly pulls on his clothes from the night before and tries to steady his breathing. 

“M’gonna go wait in the hall,” he offers. “Give you some space to think and then we’ll talk, yeah?”

Alani doesn’t respond or even meet his pleading eyes. She simply tightens the duvet around her body and turns her head to the window, letting a single, bitter tear roll down her cheek. The door closes softly and she is immediately filled with regret and guilt. Had she truly meant all of the things she said? Or was it fear and the instinct to flee taking over her mouth? Alani wanted to believe that she was wrong and that Harry hadn’t intentionally kept her in the dark, but from where she stood, the sun had long disappeared behind the clouds and all that was left was the storm. 

Harry trudges down the hallway and the walls spin, closing in on him slowly. If he had just told Alani sooner, everything would be different. He had avoided doing so for this exact reason and out of fear that their relationship wouldn’t be worth the risk in her mind. It was selfish—he was selfish—to try to make the decision for her, and now the woman he loved was getting ready to walk away because he had broken her trust. What else was there to do? His back meets the wall and he sinks to the floor. 

“Hey H,” Jeff clears his throat from above. “We should talk,”

“She knows. Didn’t go well,”

“So she did approve the article?” 

Harry lifts his head and his brows furrow. “What?”

There’s a harsh knock at the door and Alani jumps. In Harry’s absence, she had managed to cool off and sift through her frantic thoughts. She had been wrong to think that he used her, all it took was a quick stroll down memory lane to prove otherwise. He had never given her any true reason not to trust him, so there had to be some other reason why he hadn’t told her about his plans to leave so soon. Alani pads over to the door and unlocks it gently. 

“Harry, I’m sor—”

“Wanna talk about surprises?” he seethes. “What the fuck is this?”

She squints at the phone screen that he holds up to her face and the title of her unpublished article stares back at her. 

“I don’t know—”

“Well it has your goddamn name on it,” Harry shoots back. 

Alani steps aside and lets him into the room before she closes the door behind her. “I can explain—”

“Did you write it or not?”

“Yes, but—”

He shuts the phone off and slams it face down onto the night stand. “How fucking dare you call me a liar and then pull this shit behind my back,”

“I didn’t lie,” Alani defends, voice weak. “I had no idea it was going to be published, please just listen—”

“A class project,” he interrupts with his back still turned. “That’s what you said,”

“It was never meant to be released,”

“How do I know that? How do I know you’re not just trying to cover your ass?”

“Please,” Alani begs as her vision begins to blur. “I was wrong, I shouldn’t have said all those things,”

Harry runs a hand through his hair and casts his eyes to the ceiling in an attempt to quell the emotion that pools behind his eyes. 

“So why did you?”

“I was scared,”

“Of?”

Alani takes a deep breath. “Of losing you for good. Of falling in l—”

“Don’t,” he interrupts. “Don’t finish that sentence,”

“I don’t know how,” she tries again. “And I don’t know who released it, but I swear—”

“You really expect me to trust a word you say after you accused me of lying about this whole thing, about us?”

Harry’s  gaze lowers back to hers and the bright, green eyes that she has come to love are replaced with a blood-shot, stormy sea that makes her stomach drop. The words get caught in her throat. 

“I fucked up,” he continues. “I know that I should’ve told you. But I’m having a hard time believing that this wasn’t planned, that this random website would just accidentally publish your work without your consent,”

Alani can’t explain it either, she truly had no idea how her writing had ended up in the wrong hands. There was only one other person she had entrusted it with, but surely Dr. Hudson hadn’t betrayed her, had she? Alani didn’t know who to believe anymore. 

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” she tries. “I didn’t mean what I said, and I know I can’t take it back, but you have to at least believe that I never wanted to hurt you,”

Harry is silent for a moment, and Alani decides that it’s her turn to tell the truth. There was nothing left to lose. 

“At first, I did want to publish it,” she explains. “But I changed my mind and I scrapped the whole thing. In the end, the only person I intended to show it to was you,”

“So how did it get onto the internet for the whole fucking world to see?” he presses. 

Alani sighs. “My advisor wanted to know what I was working on, so I sent it to her, but she never had my permission to publish it. Now I realize how stupid it sounds, but it’s the truth,”

“If you had come to me, I would have given you permission,”

“I’m so sorry,”

Harry’s shoulders tense. Every fiber of his being  wants to believe her, but how could he? She had told him herself that things would be messy and warned him that he didn’t know what he was asking by pursuing a relationship with her. Maybe it really was all his fault for not seeing the signs, but that still didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t trust her anymore. And based on her reaction to the news of his departure, it seemed as though Alani didn’t trust him either. 

“Even if you’re telling the truth,” Harry begins, slow and deliberate. “You still thought, after everything, that I would abandon you. And if that’s the kind of person you think I am, if that’s the person you wrote about—”

“Harry—”

“Then I hope you got all the material you wanted.”

“Please, don’t go.” Alani cries but it’s too late. The door slams and her heart falls. 

After a beat, she races to the door and into the hallway but there’s no sign of Harry. As quickly as he had appeared into her life, he had vanished. Gone without a trace.

[wisewidow]

Cloudy With A Chance Of Assassination

PAIRING: Yelena Belova x Reader

SUMMARY: My new girlfriend takes meeting the relatives to a whole new level.

It's cloudy up ahead, but patches of sunlight leak through certain gaps like chinks in the sky's armour, and a warm silver lines the clouds as the sun sets behind them. There are no pink or orange hues in the sunset this cloudy evening, just tinted blue and cream with grey mountains in the distance and muted coloured trees at their bases. I have one hand on the wheel of the car Yelena and I just bought together, a sleek black Fiesta, and the other on my partner in crime's thigh. She has her window rolled down, the high speed we're going at blowing her golden hair everywhere. I drum my fingertips along the wheel as an upbeat song starts to play.

She's lost in the clouds, I can tell. I ask her if she's imagining pictures out of the white puffs, but either the roaring wind at one ear or the song at her other is blocking her from hearing my words.

I squeeze her thigh. She smacks my hand and glances sideways at me, mossy green eyes playful. I allow myself a single glance before looking back at the road. "I asked what you're seeing in the clouds."

She turns the radio dial down. "What?"

I snort. "Nevermind."

"You wanted attention?"

I flip her the bird, earning a boisterous laugh from her. "You were!"

I mimic her accent in a high-pitched voice. "You were totally like, give me attention! Because I'm Yelena Belova and I'm so special!"

"I don't sound like that," she objects. "You once said, and I quote, 'your voice is deep and sexy, like if a dressage horse could speak.'"

I frown. "I don't remember that. Was I drunk?"

"You were trying to outdrink me."

"Oh. Were you cheating? I don't black out that easily."

"No, I wasn't. And yes, you do."

I grumble and turn the radio up again. She hums along to the song, Snap Out Of It by the Arctic Monkeys. We drive until the sun goes down, or at least until I notice her energetic nature die down like a used battery. I search up the nearest motel on my phone and by the time I've pulled in, she's asleep.

I switch the engine off and relax into my seat. I allow myself a few seconds to admire the girl beside me.

I met her through a friend of mine, who lived in the apartment beside hers. I'd visit frequently, and she noticed and eventually grew tired of me oggling her everytime I passed her on the way out. So she coerced me into drinking too much red wine and then sent me over to her door, drunk and giggling.

I didn't know much about her past. She's from Russia, and she sometimes jokes that she's actually a trained assassin. She grew up in a foster home, got close with a girl named Natalia, who ended up living in the Big Apple as a high school teacher with a husband who renovates houses. She calls her every other week before bed, I think, when I spend the night and she thinks I'm asleep. I never hear what they're saying, but I enjoy falling into slumber listening to the soft hum of her voice through the plaster walls.

I admire her small, round, button nose, the even slope of her jawline, her long lashes that brush against her subtly tanned skin. We've only been dating for two months, but I'm positive I'm im love with her. We haven't exchanged those words yet, though. The car is actually our first and only big step.

I gently shake her shoulders to wake her up, and she grumbles sleepily as she shifts and peeks up at me. "Where are we?"

"Motel. Didn't feel like driving home. Come on, lazy bones, let's get you a pillow."

Once we're settled in a room, stripped of jeans and bras so we're just wearing shirts and underwear, I drift off with my head on her shoulder and my hand wrapped around her stomach.

When I wake up, the first thing I notice is the dried drool in the corner of my mouth. I don't think much of it other than the teasing I'd endure in the morning when Yelena finds out I drooled on her.

I pull her closer and then frown.

I am holding a pillow.

My girlfriend is not said pillow.

I rub my eyes and sit up. It's still dark outside, and the clock on my phone reads three in the morning. I scan the room for her figure, but I can't see her silhouette lingering in any of the shadowed corners. I frown and push the duvet off of my body, shivering slightly as I maneuver around the bed and into the bathroom.

No sign of her.

I'm starting to get worried.

Quickly, I grab my jeans — at least I think they're mine — and force my legs through them. I slip my phone in my pocket and head to the door.

It's locked, which doesn't make sense, because my current assumption that Yelena had gone out for a quick smoke would mean that she wouldn't have gone far enough to warrant locking the door.

I swallow down the bad feeling in my gut and step outside.

The upper wrap-a-round level of the motel showed no people in sight. I head to the stairs and down to the front desk, where a young man with purple streaks in his hair sits, droopy-eyed and scrolling mindlessly through his phone.

"Um, excuse me, sir?" I ask tentatively, rubbing the goosebumps off my arms. I hadn't brought my jacket.

His eyes flick up to meet mine. "Sir? You're friendlier than your girlfriend."

"I'm assuming you mean the blonde, very pretty, homicidal-looking woman I came in with?"

He sighs, turning his phone down. "Look, this is a motel. Things like this happen a lot. My advice is to run before the wife sees you."

I stare at him blankly.

He stares back.

"Uh, what?"

"A tall redheaded woman came by, stole your girl for a talk. They were squabbling about you. I assumed . . . oh. You didn't know. Well, who knows, could be a relative or something."

My heart hammers against my ribcage wildly. I have to keep reminding myself that Yelena loves me, that she wouldn't cheat on me, or cheat on anyone else with me, or . . . I feel myself becoming pale. Her scars, I'd never thought much of them, but with her mysterious past, and this mysterious paramour? She was running away from the woman who had now found her.

"Where did they go?" I demand, anger rushing through my veins.

He shakes his head, looking sympathetic. "I've seen this play out before, trust me when I say you don't want to confront—"

"Tell me where they went or I will make you swallow your own fist."

He recoils. "Christ, fine, they're in the parking lot. For the record, I hope you get a good slappin'!"

I speed walk out of the motel and around the back, adrenaline rushing. I stop when I spot two figures under a streetlight by my car, one taller and waving her arms around as she speaks and the other, unmistakably my Yelena, glaring up with her arms crossed.

I march over to them. Their heads snap in my direction almost immediately. The redheaded woman pulls out a gun and aims it at me.

I yelp and freeze, hands up in surrender. Yelena yells something in Russian and smacks the weapon out of her hands before rushing towards me. "(Y/N), what are you doing?"

"We're leaving," I say, completely freaked out. "Right now. You run, tell the guy in the office to call 911. I'll fight her off."

"What? No! (Y/N), this is my sister! She's just paranoid."

I gape at her. "I thought she was a science teacher!"

"I told you we should have met somewhere else," the redhead hisses.

Yelena spits back in Russian.

"No, no Russian! Explanation, now!" I turn to the woman. "You're Natalia?"

"Natasha."

"Okay, Natasha the science teacher who owns a gun, what are you doing here?"

Her lips tighten into a fine line. "I'm not a science teacher, I'm an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., and I wasn't expecting Yelena to have company when I came here to drag her back home."

Yelena starts spurting more angry Russian words that mean nothing to me as I try to process what's happening. The two sisters argue for a solid two minutes while I decide I must be dreaming.

The lies. The scars. The mystery. The jokes about being an assassin.

This is a living nightmare.

I turn and walk away.

Yelena calls out, "(Y/N)! Wait!"

I don't stop until I've reached our room, where I promptly grab my jacket and bra and shove them in my bag.

"(Y/N), don't leave," Yelena begs when she catches up, blocking the doorway with her body. "Let me explain, love, please."

"Get out of my way," I snap.

She doesn't flinch, doesn't turn around as she closes the door and backs up against it as if to provide another barrier between me and the world she's trying to hide.

"Yelena," I warn.

"Let me explain," she pleads.

I stare her down, but she doesn't seem to be budging any time soon. I drop my bag on the floor and sit on the bed with my arms crossed, glaring at her. "Fine. Enlighten me."

She slowly eases away from the door. "I didn't lie to you about everything. I'm one hundred percent Russian, and I consider Natalia to be my sister, and we did grow up together. But we were trained together, too. As assassins."

"Fuck," I mutter.

She kneels down in front of me. "I got away from that life, I swear. And I met you and everything after that was the realist thing I'd ever had. I really love video games, and I really love your pancakes, and I really, really love you."

My glare softens.

"Even if you can't cook," she says.

I give her a semi-playful, semi-annoyed shove.

"You said be honest, don't hit me!"

I stand up and pace the room nervously. This time, she sits down on the bed. I mutter under my breath, gnawing on my thumbnail, until, finally, I sit down beside her.

"Okay, deal breaker. Do you know Captain America?"

[aserethstorm]

The Galaxies inside jars🌌✔️

Levihan +104th Royalty Au Part 2

[Also available on AO3!]

______________________

Hange meets an old foe, the same one storming the depths of her dreams ever since.

Lucky for her, this time she isn’t alone.

———————————

There’s a giant wall of fire in the distance...

Rapidly rushing closer...

The air around her is burning, scorching her lungs every time she breathes.

Panic is evident. It’s present in the screams behind her.

She’s scared too, terrified...but she’s also never felt so sure in her life.

If only...

“Hey, four eyes.”

Hange gasps, body shaking as she pulls up from her rest. Horrified eyes glaring at the pale wall in front of her, the white paint illuminated by the moon.

This is not a port , she utters the words out loud. Engraving them deep into her soul. Admitting her consciousness to the reality in front of her.

It’s doesn’t ease the tension though, as trembling hands grip the covers beside them, the same ones that have now slid down to her waist.

“This...It’s always....”

Hange doesn’t continue, favoring the action of rubbing her left eye instead. She feels the damp wetness that pooled with it. Sniffing she puts her hand down, turning over to glance at her side.

She sees Levi. His chest to the bed exposing his firm back, heaving like the tides in the sea, their shared coverture  concealing his lower torso and his well-defined arms swaddled the pillow where his tranquil face, nestled in between.

Hange smiles, thinking how tired he must be to be sleeping so peacefully and unperturbed in this moment.

The Royal Court must have drained him , she assumes.

Moving closer she places a light kiss on the side of his brow. For some unknown reason, the pounding headaches of flashing pictures in the form of her dreams. Events that Hange is sure, that have never happened fades as soon as she feel his life. The sharp scowling features that bore the weight of an entire kingdom, body heavy and scaled by the responsibilities of his people is the same one that is healthy and safe by her side.

Just as she pulls herself off. A sharp cry erupts breaking the humble silence, soft mumbles at first growing louder and louder-

Hearing the noise. Levi lifts his head, instinct making him tilt to its direction. A low groan escapes his lips as his body pleads for him to stand. Hange quickly pushes him back down.

Drowsy with sleep Levi stares at her through blurry grey eyes half begging to be closed. “Sleep. I’ve got this.” Hange whispers. That was the only affirmation Levi needs for his head to meet the pillow once again, his body relaxing as his breathe steadied to a soft rhythm.

The night was still high as Hange pushed herself off the chaises, peeking through the curtains of their balcony. Viewing for a moment the empty night sky with only the moon at its display.

She then makes quick steps towards the cradle on the other side of the room. Reaching out to embrace the tiny bundle in front of her. The baby screaming her lungs out like their life depended on it.

“Hisu, come on now...” she pleads softly, rocking the baby side to side to calm her down. A beautiful mess of tears and blonde locks with sky blue eyes.

Ackerman genetics are truly amazing. Hange momentarily admires, her heart swelling at the image as she continues. Rocking back and forth, she glides across the smooth rug to no avail. Hange decides to resort a different tactic, pulling Historia close to her breast.

The baby pushes away her effort, wailing louder.

The Queen in amidst of panic tries to hum lullabies (where the words were barely uttered) and when that didn’t work Hange swayed her body gently to an imaginary ballroom song, that didn’t either.

It takes a whole minute of peppering before Hange decides to slip on her night robe, draping Historia in a bundle of warm silk.

“Now...Let’s get a move on shall we?” Hange grins, earning a second of curious silence from the child in her arms. Putting on her glasses she exits the room barefoot.

The floor is cold just as expected but Hange doesn’t mind just grateful for the needed distraction her 11-month-old baby provided for her on the spot.

She strides the castle’s familiar halls with determination. A plan set as her gears began to churn to distract Historia with every ornament or painting they come across. “Look here Historia.” Hange beckons, stopping in front of probably the 5th painting they’ve come across.

To the queen’s credit, the tiny princess did stop in her weeping, as if she were waiting patiently for her mother’s explanation. Hange mentally pumps her fist every time Historia does it before proceeding to thoroughly describe it to her, extending her vacant arm to trace its lines.

“This...now this one Hisu is the battle of the titans, a historic movement! Naked men and women battling for territory, all the while-actually let’s move on to the next.” They leave the premises quickly, Hange mentally slapping herself for exposing her month-old infant to the concept of nudity. When was that even there?

Dammit...if the children saw this.

Hange quickly takes note to take down that painting by daybreak. Historia seemingly wanting the opposite, extended her arms forward. Calling out to the tapestry behind them. “Gah!..”

“No Historia...your not ready for that one.” The Queen murmurs as a chubby hand slaps itself across her face, knocking the  glasses off the bridge of her nose. Halting, Hange secures her hold of Historia. Reigning the rampant infant before subduing the child in her own blankets, like a cocoon.

Holding her baby in front of her. Hange levels her gaze. Meeting the devil’s eye. Hange adjusts her glasses before saying...” mommy can only handle one naked butt at a time, sweetie.” Historia makes a face, an expression one can muster at months old. The tiny princess sticks her tongue out, ratting her mother in their own lie.

“Okay, maybe two” Hange scoffs, rolling her eyes at the annoyance and Historia for the first time since she cried, giggles. Hange’s whole face lights up at the sound, squealing she brings her daughter close to her lips. Blowing the infant's cheek making her elicit more of the sweet noise.

“Your majesty!” A voice invades, interrupting the short-lived moment as both mother and daughter simultaneously turn their heads to the stranger.

Flinching at the newfound attention the person quickly steps forward. Positioning themselves where the dim lights of the corridor could expose their features. “My apologies your majesty, I was not expecting to see out at this hour.” Her voice trembles and Hange is waft with a sense of familiarity, now pinpointing the attendant in front of her.

“It’s alright, your name’s Nifa right?” Hange waves as she pulls Historia close to her chest. Nifa looks up nodding, “Yes, I was just assisting Mrs. Jaeger with the children your majesty.” Hange nods and the young woman continues. “I hope you don’t mind your grace but they insisted on sleeping together.”

“The kids have just slept?”

“Oh no, your majesty! They slept at their usual hour, we just stayed behind to clean up.” Nifa clarifies, waving her hands frantically at the monarch. Hange smiles, the infant in her arms watching her carefully. “Thank you for your hard work today Nifa, please get some much-needed rest” she beams. Nifa smiles, relieved at the situation she bows before bidding Hange a good night.

Nifa was far down the hall when Hange hears the soft yawn. Her eyes widening as she looks down to the little blonde in her arms. “All that crying must have tired you out eh? Don’t worry I know a place where we can go”. Historia stares, her big blue eyes wide with fascination.

The handle clicks and Hange strides forward, entering the large fray. She easily spots the mess of bodies in one of the giant beds. With a twist of limbs and a handful of snores, Hange senses them all as she pushes away strays of hair before bending down to give each one a peck on the head. She places Historia somewhere else as she works her way in untangling the mess. A tedious process as she uncapped legs and unchained arms from one another.

Once satisfied with her work she carries Historia, bringing them both onto the pile. The baby at first was confused at the sight, noising her frustration.

Only once seeing Connie’s hand she awed, reaching out to hold it. Hange grins, spooning them all whilst protecting Historia from any of the kids' sudden movements.

Peace comes naturally to the queen as their noise lull her back to rest. The pesky nightmares locked away in the darkness of her mind for now. This is nice.  She sighs, reflectively pulling them closer, embracing a dreamless slumber.

The sun peeks through the mountains lining the distance, bringing with it a light purple and yellow. Blinking Jean pulls up, the young boy yawns stretching his arms uncomfortably over his head. His early risings have been a habit born out of instinct. He pulls off the blanket, throwing it over Sasha who was beside him. Scratching his back he looks around, shrinking when he meets a pair of gunmetal irises staring right back.

Hange is the next to follow. Bringing herself up she lazily wipes off the little remnants of drool before meeting Jean's gaze, who was situated on the other end of the bed.

The boy cocks a confused brow “Mom?!” He mumbles, turning back quickly to something in between them. Hange follows his gaze, eyes slightly widening at the saturated figure seated on the large chair.

Levi sighs, resuming a straighter sitting position. His nightwear hanging loosely on his figure. Hair half disheveled as strands of his black locks ruffles at the tips.

“Uhmmm...Levi?” Hange questions tilting her head curiously to the side. Levi glares at her and Hange almost immediately understands, the feeling evident when a smile spreads across her cheeks. “What are you doing here?” she chuckles, It doesn’t stop her from asking the question though and  Levi crosses his arms. Jean witnessing the display between his two parents hung his mouth lose.

“I find both my wife and youngest daughter nowhere to be found. What did you expect?” Levi answers, tone gruff and defiant he turns his head to the window unwilling to meet her gaze. Hange swears his pouting and the queen couldn’t help contain the boisterous laugh that escaped after it.

She accidentally awakes the rest of the children up. “Wait-Huh???” Connie says flailing his arms as his eyes adjust to the newfound brightness. Mikasa glares at him then at the depressing figure in front of her. Levi seeing her aggravated look glares back, the two ravens immediately locking into a heated stare.

Their gaze broke once Hange stood up from the bed, walking over to Levi and handing him Historia. The little princess still in deep slumber, unaffected by the rest of the family's commotion. His gaze softens, caressing the baby’s cheek. Hange leans over leveling her burnt honey eyes to him, she grins.

“Mission accomplished.”

[jaemincrossing]

YUNHO // Stargazer

Genre: fluff

ATEEZ Yunho x GN! Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning: House Party - drugs/alcohol

My part of “15 Ways To Say I Love You” collab by @kpoppwriter. Prompt 7. “Don’t move - I’ll get it for you.”

Happy Valentine’s Day!

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

You stand on your toes with your arm extended fully above you, grabbing desperately for the book near the top of the bookcase. You let out a small grunt as you continue to reach for the book, your arm getting tired.

You let out an exasperated sigh as your hand drops to your side. Staring up at the book with frustration. You're about to try again when you see a hand pull it off the bookshelf.

You turn around confusedly only to be met with someone's torso. You gasp causing the torso to back away, giving you room.

"Is this what you wanted?" A deep voice asks, holding the book out in front of you. You nod, looking up to see your savior's face.

My jaw drops when my eyes land on his beautiful face. The sunlight shining through the big library windows behind him making him look ethereal. You feel butterflies in your stomach when your eyes meet his dark-brown ones.

"Wow.." You gasp out, slapping a hand over your mouth immediately after, your face heating up. You see his perfect lips curve up into a small smile just before you turn away in embarrassment. He lets out a low chuckle causing your face to flush even more. You snatch the book out of his hand and run off, unable to stay there another second.

You run to the nearest restroom, shutting the door swiftly behind you before leaning up against. You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a loud groan, slamming your face into your palms.

"Great going, Y/N!" You scold yourself, absolutely mortified. "There goes one more boy you can never talk to again."

You wallow in your frustration and embarrassment for a minute or two before walking over to the sink and staring at your beet-red face in the mirror. Wondering why you're like this.

It's not that you're completely socially inept, you're actually quite good at starting and holding a conversation with people you've only met seconds prior, but for some reason when it comes to cute boys, you become a blushing, stuttering mess, that is, if you're even able to speak. It doesn't matter how well you know the guy, if he's cute, there's no way you're able to have an actual conversation. That's why you try to avoid them as much as humanly possible, even if it means switching groups or just working alone on projects. Cute boys are kinda just one of those things that are only nice when observed from afar. Like polar bears. Cute as hell from a safe distance, but your worst nightmare up close.

You turn on the faucet and splash some water on your face to cool down. You then dry your face off and spend a few more moments calming down before exiting the restroom, peeking your head out to make sure the coast is clear. Then you hurry out of the school as fast as you can.

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

You stop right in front of the library doors and quickly fix your hair and clothing, all ruffled from you having to run all the way here after sleeping in and missing the bus. Once you're ready, you enter the library quietly and make your way to the tables in the middle of the giant room.

Your friend smiles and waves at you once you're there, beckoning you over to the table. You gladly walk towards them only for all that happiness to evaporate upon seeing him.

His perfect hair, his charming smile, and his dark yet warm eyes are exactly the same as the guy you saw yesterday. Even the way the sun is hitting him is the same!

It takes everything in you to not just suddenly run away. You try to not let your panic show as you sit down in the only seat available at the table, which is, unfortunately, the seat next to him.

You avoid all eye contact with him and instead look to your friend with a confused look, thinking the only people in our group was her and her boyfriend Mingi.

"Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you." She realizes upon seeing your confusion. "The TA said we need four people in our group, and since he missed class that day and he's a friend of Mingi, he's in our group now. Sorry I didn't tell you, it kinda slipped my mind. But you don't mind, right?"

You just smile and nod, not wanting to cause problems, but definitely going to tell her to ask you before making decisions like that in the future.

She smiles back at you before starting the session. You're barely able to focus, too distracted by not trying to even look at Yunho. Still too mortified from yesterday. You just play with your pencil, completely removed from the conversation.

"Y/N?"

Your head immediately turns to your name being called, and you realize the mistake you made too late.

Your eyes meet his and your breath hitches in your throat. Time seems to stop as you stare into his deep brown eyes, completely captivated by them.

"What do you think?" Yunho asks, snapping you out of your trance. You turn away, clearing your throat, and focusing your eyes on your blank notebook instead.

"Yeah. Sounds great." You say, nodding your head, not even knowing what you agreed to. You briefly look at him to see him smiling, only to look away swiftly.

"Great. Then let's do that." He says to the others who nod their heads in agreement, actually knowing what he was talking about.

The time flies slowly as you pretend you know what's going on and glance over at Yunho every once in a while. Especially appreciating when his head is down while he's writing something in his notebook, you practically drooling over his side profile and focused expression on his face. Soon, the session is over and you all gather your things to leave.

My friend stops you at the exit and pulls you aside.

"Mingi and his friends are having a party tonight, and I've noticed it's been a while since you've been to one because you're so busy studying all the time. So.. will you go to the party with me?" She asks. You think it over in your head, realizing it has been awhile since you've been to one. But if it's Mingi's party then that probably means Yunho's gonna be there.. "Pleeeaassee? I promise I won't leave without you! I'll even take you out to eat afterwards!"

"Fine! But you better not break that promise, or I'm never going to another party with you again." You say sternly, and she nods quickly, holding her pinkie out. You wrap your pinkie around hers to seal the promise and she smiles at you.

"I'll see you later then!" She waves back at you as she goes to join Mingi, who was waiting for her by the end the of the hallway.

You wave back and set off back home to get ready for the party.

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

You and your friend walk into the house already filled to the brim with drunk college students. You're immediately reminded of why you stopped going to parties when you spot a couple making out in the corner, and, probably a med student, chugging alcohol as if their life depends on it, as well as the unmistakable smell of weed coming from upstairs.

You could point out so much more going on at this party that you despise, but decide to just summarize it with one word. Hell.

You push through the crowd and to the alcohol table, grabbing some alcohol in a red plastic cup. You then make your way to the backyard, already feeling suffocated by all the sweaty, smelly bodies around you.

You take a seat on one of the pool chairs and watch as some of the boys play around in the pool, taking sips of the liquid in the cup.

"Shit!" You curse, your arm being knocked, causing you to spill you drink all over yourself. You stand up immediately, only to be met with someone's, very toned, bare torso.

Your eyes trail slowly up his torso and rest on his face, and of course, it's Yunho.

His hair is wet and slicked back, only a few loose strands falling over his face, and he's wearing just swim trunks. He's covered in water droplets from having just been in the pool.

"Oh- shit. Sorry." He apologizes upon seeing your angry face. You don't even say anything you just let out a sigh and sit back down on the chair. You reach out to pick up the cup but he grabs your wrist before you do. "It's my fault. I'll clean it up."

He's already squatting down and he picks it up, setting it down on the glass table next to the chair. He then looks up at me, noticing the damage he's done to your clothes.

"Wait here. I'll be right back." Yunho says, running off into the house.

While waiting for him to come back, you realize that was the first time you didn't totally freak out in front of him. Granted, you were pissed, but you weren't avoiding eye contact or a complete blushing mess.

He returns with some clothes in hand and stands in front of you.

"Here. Wear these." He says, holding the t-shirt and sweatpants out in front of you. You take it from him and cock an eyebrow at him.

"You want me to change out here?" You question. Yunho immediately gets flustered and scratches the back of his neck, wondering how that never crossed his mind.

"I- uh- n-no.." He stammers, blushing at his thoughtlessness. "Here."

He suddenly grabs your hand and pulls you up the stairs. He takes you down the hallway and to his room.

"You can change here. I'll stand watch outside." Yunho says, and you nod at him. He closes the door behind him and you quickly get changed. Once you're done, you open the door to see Yunho leaning against the wall outside, staying true to his word. He immediately perks up when seeing you and smiles at you in his clothes.

The t-shirt practically engulfed you and you had to roll up the waistband his sweatpants three times just to get them not to fall down.

"I wanna go home." You state bluntly. Yunho's face drops and he clears his throat.

"I-I can take you home if you want." He offers and you decline.

"It's just a couple blocks away. I can walk., I'll be fine."

"Then let me walk you home. It's the least I can do after spilling your drink on you." He persists. You ponder for a moment before nodding.

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

You stare up at the night sky, admiring all the flecks of light illuminating the otherwise dark sky.

You both decided to ditch the party and instead stargaze in your backyard. You told him about it when you noticed how visible the stars were tonight. You told him about your love for astronomy and he must be the first person to actually seem interested in what you were talking about. Usually people get annoyed after about five minutes of you talking about it, but he seemed to actually want to listen and understand what you were saying. He even asked to join you in stargazing and you happily said yes, this being the first time someone’s actually wanted to do that with you.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" You ask Yunho, who's laying beside you, staring up into the sky.

"It really is." He whispers, staring adoringly at your side profile, not once looking at the stars. The whole time, he's been focused on you. Finding you far more beautiful than any amount of stars in the sky.

You turn to look at him, surprised when you see him staring at you and not at the stars. Your eyes meet his, but this time you're able to hold his gaze.

You both stare at each other, the stars completely abandoned in favor each other’s eyes.

A single flower from the blossoming tree in your backyard lands gracefully on the side of your face. You’re about to take it off when Yunho stops you.

“Don’t move - I’ll get it for you.”

He flicks it off softly and pushes a strand of hair out of your face. Resting his hand on your cheek, caressing it softly. He slowly moves his face closer to yours and stops just a few centimeters away.

He pauses, pondering whether he should do it or not. You get impatient and make that decision for him, closing the gap between your lips.

You kiss him softly, your lips melting against his. He kisses you back just as sweetly, gently rubbing his thumb against your cheekbone. You both pull away, staring into each other’s eyes before connecting your lips again. You kiss underneath the stars, lips moving in sync. The kiss slow. Both of us taking in the dream-like moment marking the start of something new..

[sideblogformindtrash]

not a truth serum ask, but it was influenced by an ask. can we get a smidge of recovered (as much as possible) haru and blue? if it fucks w ur writing and you think it will make you stop writing the story dont do it hhhh I'm just putting this out there

[masterlist]

CW: Angst; discussion of death and past abuse;

…He rocked in the chair, admiring the vast fields all around them. He loved coming up here, to the tiny house on top of the mountains. The place was so beautiful… It looked completely isolated from the real world, surrounded by grassy fields, forests and farm animals peacefully grazing on the distance.

Orfeu seemed to be sleeping now, laid on the grass enjoying his magical powers of never getting stung by insects. He seemed to be drooling as well. Haru quietly snapped a photo to nag him with later, then went back to his chair.

He closed his eyes… He could only imagine how wonderful it must have been to be a child on such a gorgeous, peaceful place. If there was one thing he envied on Cecil, was that he was allowed to be a child... And someone loved him. All Haru remembered of his own childhood was snow covered misery.

Inside the tiny house, he could hear Cecil and his mom talking as they made bread together. Haru liked to help her cooking, and she had a lot of country flavors and recipes to teach, but he figured she needed a moment with her son. She was a lovely old lady, that had received all of them with open arms, despite how messed up their little family was.

And all was good …Except he could hear their conversation getting louder and finally ending with Cecil shouting ‘I’m going to get eggs’ and leaving the house with a basket, tears on the corner of his eyes.

Haru jumped from the chair and followed him, Orfeu seeming to just wake up. He walked trough grass field, trying to keep up with Cecil’s fast pace as he walked to the coop.

He follows Cecil inside. He doesn’t even acknowledge him, as he searches the nests for eggs.

“Cecil… Hm… Y-you want to talk?”

..He stops, closes his eyes with a pained expression. He doesn’t look at Haru, only whispers.

“…I think she wishes I had died that day”

“Cecil-“

“She, she is, is nice and all, s-she doesn’t want me, me to notice. But, I, I can tell Haru. She, she looks at me and she, she is so sad… She smiles but she is, is in pain a-and… I, I w-want her to s-see that I’m b-better, that I’m s-s-till me… But, but maybe I’m not. I, I’m not the s-son s-she knew and, I keep s-screwing up...” he angrily whipped a tear, throwing some eggs at the basket, so carelessly some might have cracked “S-s-she is pain. S-s-she had, had accepted that, that I was dead and was was moving o-on b-b-ut now s-she is in p-pain again…”

Haru carefully placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Of course she was in pain but… None of them were to blame. Life had been unkind.

“…She loves you. And it hurts when someone we love is… is hurting” he offered a sad smile “D-doesn’t mean she doesn’t want you or, or love who you are now. Jjust that she wished you were okay. She wants you to be happy”

“Yeah b-but… Maybe s-she would be, be b-better off without me…”

“…She kept your room intact” Haru commented “…Even years after she thought you were gone. And the look on her face when she saw you… She is in pain, but not because she doesn’t want you”

“…B-but it was n-n-not me she was waiting for” he insisted “S-she wanted her son. She got… fucking Blue instead. T-there is… a distance between us, n-now, and I feel, I feel like we can’t never t-truly change that…”

Haru pulled him into a hug, just softly running fingers through his hair.  Distance. Oceans keeping them apart.

“You’ve been through so much Cecil… Don’t you dare give up now” he cupped Cecil’s face “…Be kind to yourself. You deserve it”

…he softly pushed Haru away and opened a frail smile.

“I’m, I’m just glad she d-doesn’t have internet” he chuckled, the way he did to avoid crying instead.

“If you wanna stay here longer… I can try and re-schedule my students, you know…?” Haru offers “We could sleep here today…”

“No, no is fine…” he shook his head “I’m fed up with the country life already. Look at this stupid egg”

…He raised an egg that was far too small, before tossing it with the others. It was completely meaningless, he just didn’t want to admit that he didn’t want to face his mom anymore. Not today, anyway.

“It must have been nice to grow up here” Haru commented, the chicken picking around them.

“As a child, it was heaven. As a teenager? Not so much. There is nothing around here…” Cecil shrugged, then smiled nostalgically “When I went to college I had no clue what a big city was even like. Fully naive country boy. I was terrified but… I felt like it was better than being stuck here forever”

…They walked back to the house, Cecil’s mother was having a chat with Orfeu now, both sitting on the grass, Orfeu making a little flower crown. She smiled at them and Orfeu smiled.

“I…. I got the eggs mom…” he whispered, not wanting to look her in the eye.

But she was having none of it. She got up and pulled him into one of her bear rugs, old, but strong arms from years of farm work, kissing his cheeks.

“…Thank you darling” she picked one of his cheeks affectionately “We could make a pie, wouldn’t that be nice?”

Cecil takes a deep breath and tries to smile.

“…Yeah. It, it would” he looks at Haru, a ‘help me’ look “Can he come too?”

“Of course” his mom smiled. She liked all of them “Little Haru is always a help in kitchen. Orfeu dear, you can help us with the dishes”

…He heard Orfeu laugh, as Cecil and his mom went inside again.

“Sure. Just a second” …He approached “Is he okay?”

Haru nods.

“Are you?”

“Yah. Don’t worry so much…” he smiles “….You were drooling”

“Lies” Orfeu squints “All lies”

“…I have a picture”

“…Dammit” he laughs and messes Haru’s hair.

“Hey!” he slaps Orfeu’s hands away “Stop fooling around. We must bake a pie”

“Sure. Just a thing first…” Orfeu picks up the flower crown he was building, placing it on Haru’s head “There you go”

…He blushes.

“Thank you…”

“It’s nothing, your majesty” he makes a dramatic reverence, pulling the house door open for Haru. He chuckles and gets in.

[therealjordan23]

Can you do a one shot of teenage Debbigail and Dewey still not confessing his feelings and his brother's teasing him and Dewey being jealous of another guy please? :33

Sure :) sorry for the long wait LOL

ooo

Most lovesick men drooled over their crush from a distance: Dewey did it in her workplace.

19 year old Dewey's eyes followed Gosalyn as she cleared tables at their local diner. He couldn't help staring at her beauty, admiring the red curls that bounced as she walked, and those gorgeous green orbs you could get lost inside.

Huey snapped his fingers in front of his distracted younger brother.

"Were you listening, Dew?"

Dewey's glassy eyes cleared, and he shook his head like a wet dog.

"Huh? S-sorry Hue. Must have gotten a little spacy." Dewey muttered.

Webby scowled at Gosalyn, frustrated that Dewey was so infatuated with the redhead, rather than his best friend who had been crushing on him for 7 years.

"Spacey is an understatement." Louie muttered, following his gaze, frowning when it landed on Gosalyn. "It was over between you and Gos before it even started, Dewey. You really need to let this go."

Dewey sighed. "I know. It's just… you know how hard it is to like someone who doesn't like you back?"

Webby nearly choked on her drink.

"Do you, Webbs?" Huey wiggled his eyebrows knowingly, and Webby angrily shoved his burger into his mouth.

Gosalyn slipped off her diner uniform, and packed it into her backpack. She headed towards the door, but not before catching Dewey's lovesick stare. She smiled, and gave him a friendly wave, to which Dewey smiled.

"All I'm saying is that this is unhealthy for you," Louie explained, watching Gosalyn head out onto the door and onto Drake's motorcycle. He took a sip of his milkshake, before adding, "Right, Webbs?"

"I'm not saying anything other than the fact that you wouldn't catch me falling for someone… who is that?" Webby gasped,

The triplets followed her gaze to the diver's entrance, and in walked Donald, Goofy, and a boy about their age: he was tall, had shaggy black hair, and was dressed very professionally.

"Kids!" Donald called. "There's someone I'd like you to meet!" he said with a warm smile.

The young man headed their way, and Dewey felt a hot flash of jealousy as Webby blushed harder.

"This is Goofy's son, Max. He's just finished high school in Spoonerville, and now he's going to be attending college in the city! I figured you kids ought to get to know him!" Donald smiled.

"Hi, Max! I'm Huey Duck, and this is Dewey, Louie, and Webbigail Vanderquack!" Huey greeted, extending his hand.

"I'm Max, but you already knew that," Max said with a chuckle, shaking each of their hands.

Webby giggled, and Dewey shot her a glare.

"Webbigail, huh? Beautiful name." he commented.

Max slid into the booth next to her, and Webby seemed to be melting. Huey and Louie enjoyed the variety of different glares Dewey shot Max and Webby, practically feeling their brother's jealousy radiating off of him.

"Everyone calls me Webby." she smiled, scooting further away from Dewey and closer to Max.

"Well, my full name is Maximilian, but I shortened it down to Max. It was pretty… Goofy." he grinned.

This time, everyone, minus Dewey, let out a laugh.

"I think I'm going to go," Dewey muttered, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Dewey—" Webby tried.

"I just want to go home. There's something I need to handle!" he nearly hollered.

Everyone, Max included, looked at Dewey with wide eyes, startled at his sudden outburst. Dewey took a deep breath, and grabbed his bag, heading outside.

ooo

A week passed, and things weren't looking up for Dewey. Webby and Max grew closer, and tonight would mark the first night that they spent it alone, without Dewey or his brothers. It was obvious Max liked Webby, and one would have to be blind not to notice that Webby felt the same.

Dewey poked his head inside of her bedroom, where Webby lied down on her bed, giggling into her phone.

"Where are you taking me?"

"That's a secret, my dear Webbigail," Max snickered.

Dewey tensed. Why wouldn't Max tell her where they were headed…? Dewey quietly crept away from Webby's bedroom, and thought to himself: Max was still fairly new to Duckburg, he didn't know the best spots around town… so where was Max taking his best friend?

Dewey made up his mind. He grabbed a duffel bag, and began to pack some necessities: binoculars, night vision goggles, a grappling hook, and some granola bars. Huey and Louie looked up from their respective bunks, and frowned at Dewey. Huey's face morphed into a panicked expression as he pieced together what his younger brother was up to.

"Dewey, you're not seriously thinking about spying on her!" came Huey's garbled voice. He climbed down his bunk, and sat on Louie's bunk. "She'll kill you!"

Dewey scowled. "I don't have a good feeling about him. He's using her."

Louie frowned, raising an eyebrow. "Really? You think the only reason someone would ever love Webby is to use her?"

Dewey scratched the back of his neck, looking down at the floor. "Listen, it's not that. There are a lot of reasons someone would love her…"

Huey and Louie exchanged a knowing look before turning back to their brother, who was looking redder than usual.

"Why don't you just admit it, then? That you're in love with Webby." Louie asked.

Dewey and Webby's relationship was odd to say the least: they were best friends, sure, but deep down, Dewey wanted to be more than that.

"I… it's complicated." Dewey muttered.

"And this isn't complicated?!" Louie snapped, gesturing wildly to Dewey's duffel bag.

"I have to protect her. She's my best friend, I can't let her go alone with a complete stranger."

"Goofy has been Uncle Donald's best friend for years," Huey said gently. "Do you seriously think his son is some maniac plotting against the McDuck clan?"

"Yes." Dewey grumbled stubbornly.

Huey stood up to stop him, but Louie set a hand on his shoulder. He turned back to look at him, but Louie merely shook his head no.

"If he wants to go, he can go." Louie said breezily. "And face the consequences."

"It's a bad idea—"

"Which he knows," Louie said, shooting a glare at Dewey. "But since he insists on learning the hard way, there's only so much we can do to stop him."

Huey opened his mouth as if he wanted to argue, but no words came out. He slowly nodded, and sighed. Dewey gazed at his brothers one last time before heading out the door.

ooo

“Wow,” Webby murmured, looking up at the stars—Max had driven them to Spoonerville, and had rented out an observatory so he and Webby could stargaze.

“My mom used to take me here… before she… you know,” Max trailed off, not wanting to talk about it.

Webby set a hand on his shoulder. “I get it, Max, no need to explain,” she said with a gentle smile.

He smiled gratefully at her. They stared at one another, their heads subconsciously moving closer to each other. Webby let her eyes slowly close, and her body completely slackened when Max’s lips made contact with hers.

For about a millisecond.

A blur of blue tackled Max to the ground, punching him across the jaw.

“Dewey!” Webby shouted, half angry, half confused. She pried her best friend off of Max, who rubbed his tender jaw.

“D-Dewey?” Max asked, confused. “What—”

“What are you doing?!” Dewey demanded, speaking to both Webby and Max. “You, kissing a girl while she’s alone?! And you! Leaving the house!”

Webby placed a hand on her hip, shooting him a deep glare. “Excuse me? Kissing a girl while she’s alone?! I’m not defenseless, Dewey!”

“Well—”

“Wait, were you spying on me?!” she demanded, and now it was her turn to be angry.

He scowled. “Max hasn’t been here a week, he’s still some stranger!”

Webby clenched her fists, resisting the urge to smack him. “He’s the son of Uncle Donald’s best friend! Why the fuck were you spying on me? Who gave you the fucking right?!” she cursed.

“I did, as your best friend!”

“Well, I doubt there’s a friendship for you to salvage at this point!” she hissed.

She walked towards Max, and helped him up. “Come on, Max.”

Dewey watched them walk away, and groaned. He sat down hard on one of the observatory's chairs, and looked up at the beautiful stars, who in turn, were looking down at him. He ran his hands through his hair—how was he supposed to make up with Webby after this? When he saw Webby kissing him, he felt a powerful jolt surge throughout his body—whether it was jealousness or anger, he wasn’t sure, but he wanted to get Max as far away from her as possible.

“Hey,” came a gentle voice behind him.

He turned to find her looking at him—her expression seemed unreadable and conflicted, almost as if she’d debated coming back to him. But she was here, and Dewey wasn’t going to screw it up.

“Hi,” he replied, scooting over so there was some space for her next to him.

She wordlessly walked towards him, and leaned her head on his shoulder. He gently leaned his head on top of her own, and the two stayed like that, letting the silence take over. After a few moments of deliberation, Webby turned to him, but Dewey spoke first:

“Why did you come back?”

“His friend, Roxanne, came to pick him up, but I realized I couldn’t leave you here… not with this nasty fight lingering,” she pursed her lip. “Why did you do it?” was all she could ask.

“Because I was jealous,” he murmured, taking her hand. He found himself captivated by her presence, and soon enough, he was telling her how he felt about her—when he was finished, Webby’s jaw hung open.

“Dewey—”

“Webby please…” he said gently, refusing to look at her.

“Dewey, no. Look at me.” she gently cupped his face, and they looked at each other. “I love you. I’ve always been in love with you. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and the truth is, I only kissed Max because I was compensating all your time with Gosalyn, but I can’t do that. Max is a person, not an object for me to use.”

He circled his arms around her waist, and pulled her onto his lap. “I liked Gosalyn,” he admitted. “But we weren’t a good match. For years, I’ve tried wooing her, not knowing the best thing was right underneath my nose. I love you, Webbigail Vanderquack, I always have.”

Their lips met, and Dewey’s grip around her waist tightened. Both let themselves melt into the kiss they’ve been yearning for, and neither felt like pulling away, There may have been hiccups, but Dewey knew one thing: 

He would never let go of her.

[alleycat97]

Night Changes

Mtfl fic based on One Directions, Night Changes.

Short fluff using ‘Night Changes’ as the narrative. I’ve never done one of these so I hope it doesn’t completely suck. My take on the kiss between Ava x MC.

Pairing: Emma x MC

Taglist: @fundamentalromantic @kamilahsayeet2063 @avalawrencefl @samanthadalton @penda-bear @dartharia @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @evexofxtime @kwaj05

“Goin’ out tonight, changes into something black.”

Emma couldn’t help but stare in awe as she patted down her thighs nervously at the hem, building the courage to step out into the kitchen.

“Her father, doesn’t like that kind of dress.”

Emma couldn’t help but fantasize the look of lust she would receive from that one special person in particular. Mr. Price objected it immediately knowing all too well Emma’s intentions. She was a young adult going out looking like that with two boys drooling over her.

“Everything she never had, she’s showin’ off.”

Ava knew Emma better than most, and she knew exactly what would compliment Emma’s features the most, so that skimpy black dress and body chain were the greatest ‘investment’ she ever made. Everyone was sure to have their eyes glued on Emma. But Ava knew what it would mean if Emma wore her present to her New Year’s Party.

Emma fought back with her father and even Mack stepped in to help.

“I don’t trust those boys with her going out looking like that.”

“Dad relax, Ava got her that dress.” Mack replied.

“Why would Ava...Buy her that?” He pondered looking to Mack who shot him a wink, finally letting it register upstairs. “Oh my, I had no idea.”

“Drivin' too fast, moon is breakin' through her hair.”

Emma was running late to the party. Apparently going through an entire sexy wardrobe fantasy took more time than thought. The moon was high in the sky and midnight was approaching. Ava would kill her is she was late. And nothing on this planet would keep Emma away from this party.

“She's headin' for somethin' that she won't forget.”

She knew when she put the dress on, that she belonged to Ava tonight, and that kiss at midnight would be the changing point in her life forever.

“Havin' no regrets is all that she really wants.”

With three loves on the table, two would get burned, but that’s what happens when you played with fire. She just hoped deep down this was the correct course. Her heart was in it and that was all she needed.

The party was well into full swing when Emma nervously stepped through the door. She could feel all eyes on her. She could feel Noah and Mason staring from a mile away, but without looking around, she could feel Ava’s gaze burning hotter than all.

“There you are!” Ava greeted snagging Emma in a hug and then backing away, twirling Emma like a princess to admire that dress. “You look so beautiful tonight.”

“Thanks to you.”

The party continued on and like a magnet, the boys swarmed to Emma, hounding her but Ava never let them too close. Emma was hers tonight, and she wanted to prove it.

“Let’s go outside, I’ve got something I wanna show you.”

Outside on the patio, snow began to fall as the girls star-gazed and talked. A shiver ran down Emma’s spine and Ava was quick to grab her in a warning hold.

“We're only gettin' older, baby.”

“Emma? Do you ever think how fast all this is happening? It seems like yesterday we met during freshman year, and now look at us.” Ava pointed out holding Emma tighter.

“And I've been thinkin' about it lately, does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the night changes?”

Emma wouldn’t lie, it had crossed her mind for awhile now on how much she liked Ava in a way that was more than just friends. It took her 3.5 years to actually discover her true feelings, she was in love with her best friend. And just like how fast the night changes, she fell in love with Ava along time ago.

“Everything that you've ever dreamed of, disappearing when you wake up.”

Both girls always had that question of what if this is just an experiment? Can you really love your best friend in that way? This was a big step that could ruin them for good. Just a mere fantasy that could vanish in a snap of a finger just like a dream when you wake every morning.

“But there's nothing to be afraid of, even when the night changes, it will never change me and you.”

But deep down, they both knew this was true and right. As Ava stared deep into Emma’s eyes, they could both sense it. No matter the course, no matter their actions, they had each other and this felt safe. Because they would always be Ava and Emma until the end, either best friends or girlfriends.

“Chasing it tonight, doubts are runnin' 'round her head.”

Then a spark of electricity ran down Emma’s spine during Ava’s gaze, “Am I dreaming?” She asked herself. “Is this happening right now?”

“Heart is beatin' loud and she doesn't want it to stop.”

Ava inched forward. She could hear Emma’s heart thundering against her chest, knowing she’s the reason for its rapid pace, and she doesn’t intend to make that stop.

“Movin' too fast, moon is lightin' up her skin.”

Emma started moving towards Ava as she heard the countdown happening downstairs. It was happening so fast it almost seemed like slow motion. The girls where inches apart but the distance between their lips seemed to be miles apart. Emma couldn’t help but notice the moon was reflecting perfect against Ava, highlighting her skin beautifully. She almost seemed angelic.

“She's fallin', doesn't even know it yet”

The kiss was everything. It was soft, it was slow, it was....perfect. Emma short circuited over the interaction, the mood, the scene, the person in front of her, how could she fall any harder? Little did she know? Ava would make her night one for the books.

“Havin' no regrets is all that she really wants.”

Emma had been in Ava’s room a thousand times before. But not like this. Not naked on the bed with Ava hovering over top of her.

She’s never done this before but Ava showed her what to do.

“You’re a smart girl Emma, just do what makes you feel good. Watch me.”

Emma couldn’t tear her gaze away from Ava as she slowly slid her hand against herself, motioning for Emma to do the same.

It wasn’t long until Ava was hearing 4 words she absolutely would love to hear every night,

“Let’s do that again.” Emma panted out.

Emma woke in her own bed the next morning sore and satisfied. Her mind raced to the events of last night and how wonderful her first time was with Ava. But it just seemed to complicate her feelings and her emotions even more with the girl. What did this mean for them and what happens going forward? It didn’t see like a mistake... it felt passionate, it was the best night of her life, but Emma’s biggest question was,

“Does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the night changes?”