#didn’t realize I was missing that they also love feeding people? I mean I’m

[abilouwrites]

Hihi I was hoping I could request enemies to lovers Zuko x fem!reader?

The reader is a traitor to the fire nation and can bend fire (also a street peformer before she joined the gaang? 👀) 💕💕

Omg getting a request just made my day I love these!!!

I hope you like it 🫶🫶🫶

YOURE STILL A TRAITOR

Id like to say that my life is good, that I’m happy where I am but I’m not. I’m upset and frustrated; but most of all I’m living on the street, preforming stupid acrobatic tricks just to feed myself. I’ve left everything behind. My family and wealth but most importantly someone I never wanted to live without.

I’m upside down when I see them; soft flames coming from the soles of my bare feet. Resting on my forearms and twisting and contorting my body.

“You.” A teenaged girl approaches me and I turn right side up, “you’re a fire bender aren’t you!” She says, “what’s your name?”

“Uh” I stare at her and smile nervously, “y/n Huǒ” I repeat slowly, and quietly. People of the fire nation know the traitor I’ve become outside the walls of the fire nation. Meeting the avatar, going against my friends for his life. All because I believed in something greater than all of this.

“I know you” a boy says, bandana around his forehead, “your grandpa, Yújìn. I know- or knew him” He says

“Oh.” Realization hits my face, “you’re the avatar!” A short girl slaps me.

“Wow way to tell everyone!” She retorts, god are little kids sassy.

“You could teach Aang firebending” Katara says, it’s hard not to know someone’s name when there’s wanted posters all over town.

“I’m good at fire bending but I’m no master” I say, “I thought Prince Zuko abandoned the throne to teach you” I ask

“Well he’s uh.. learning a new way to firebend” Toph laughs a little and I smile awkwardly.

“I don’t bend very traditionally” I reply, “but if it will get me off the streets I guess why not” I stand up straighter and brush my hair out of my face.

“You brought that back?!” Zuko shouts, we’ve had a long history. One that includes a betrothal, and a knife to the gut. He looks at me with disgust which I’m not surprised at.

“I’m a girl. Not a thing!” I cry out, “the only reason I’m here is because Aang needs a firebending teacher because you suck!” I scoff out at him, there’s fire burning in his hands but I never raise mine.

He groans at me, “you’ve always been like this! Even when”

“Zuko I don’t want to talk about that” I warn, there’s a plea in my voice but he accepts that, “it was a long time ago”

“Yeah like it was that long ago” he sasses and I roll my eyes.

“Zuko!”

It doesn’t take long for things to settle down; I’m essentially useless now that Zuko has gotten his bending back. Even if he did it how I told him to do it all along but whatever.

The bickering still happens, and I want to throw a knife at him but part of me still loves him. I didn’t hate being betrothed to him as much as I thought I did.

“Did you ever miss us?” I ask him, “after you were banished. I refused to Azula to give away your location and then the Avatars when you wrote me” I confess, “so I left”

“I think. At first I did, but I don’t— I don’t think we would’ve worked together. We fight all the time. I hated you at first. And you hated me” He admits, looking down slightly. He sighs heavily

“Yeah. I guess. But I didn’t really hate- hate you” I admit, “I missed you. I liked knowing you”

He nods, “I did like knowing you too, you’ve changed so much. I mean your fire it’s pink” he laughs

“Maybe it’s from my bubbly personality” I tease, he laughs

“You. Have a bubbly personality!” He laughs and it’s so good to hear, “you were so shy, like if I sneezed too hard I would scare you”

I smile softly, “I’ve changed so much sense I was twelve” my hair falls around my face and he tucks the loose strand around my ear

“What now that you’re fourteen?” He teases softly, his hand lingers behind my ear. But he removes himself quickly.

“Zuko. Im fifteen” I remind him, it’s embarrassing when he says he knows how my heart flutters and I feel weak in the knees.

“I remember, once you turned eighteen we would’ve” he looks away with a blush on his cheeks

“Yeah. Gotten married” I laugh, and I keep laughing because the thought of getting married feels so small and childish to the war we’re supposed to be preparing for.

He laughs; rolling laughs that make me keep laughing. My laughs turn short and wheezy before his face straightens, “are you ok? Can you breathe?” His face turns to me and he smiles seeing my smile. It’s a smile that makes my cheeks hurt and heart race.

“As the Prince of the fire nation. I’m supposed to hate you. Because you’ve betrayed our nation. But as Zuko. As your Zuko. In this moment I don’t feel anything but hate. I feel love for you. A fire that I never want to put out” he tells me, scooting closer to me. I let him cradle my face, “I never hated you”

“I never hated you either” a weak laugh escapes me but he kisses me before it truly develops. It’s a kiss that devours me whole, wrapping itself into my heart and soul.

“If we make it through this. Let’s make good on that betrothal”

[hardcandycigarette]

Long Way Down PART Three

LONG WAY DOWN PART 3

Welp, the Styles family isn’t doing great without Y/N, and Auntie Gemma has a few opinions. We’ve got more fluff and dad!rry here. Once we get to Part Four we are back to some angst and more feels.

Stick with it guys. And thanks to everyone who has given such positive feedback. It makes my day to hear from you.

Word Count 6.7K

Warnings-  a few curse words. If I missed a warning let me know.

“All right, thanks.” Harry taps the screen on his phone to end the call. “He slings it on the coffee table. Shaking his head, he lies back on the sofa. “Not at her mother’s, sisters’, or Julia’s.”

“We have spoken to everyone in her most intimate circle of friends and family, so do you have anyone else in mind?” Gemma asks.

His ring-clad fingers run through his messy hair as he throws his head back, face toward the ceiling with his eyes closed. “She had everything she wanted, Gem. All of it: houses, cars, love, money, and babies, she had everything she could possibly desire.“

"It’s not everything, you know. I am sure you are aware of that. I think you can let go of that story now.”

“What do you mean by that, Gemma?”

“There’s a shocker. It appears you didn’t listen to what she was saying to you.”

Taking a deep breath, he lifts his head and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In fact, I was listening to what she said. I told you almost word-for-word everything she said.”

“Harry, she told you she needed you. She wants you, her husband.” She points to the hallway. “They need you.”

I’m on a break, not going on tour anytime soon.“

“What’s a while, Harry? A week, a month, a day? She never knows.”

“A while. I dunno.” He shrugs. “After Manchester, contracts are over.”

“Oh, get off it. That means nothing. Numerous contracts have ended, but the outcome is always the same. A signed contract, a new album, a new tour. Or three, then of course throw in a movie or two for good measure. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.”

“It’s m’ job Gem. Just because my job doesn’t look like everyone else’s doesn’t mean it’s not a job. Gotta feed m’ family, gotta pay for all this.” He raises his hands and makes a sweeping motion around the room.

She shakes her head. “It’s a job, but is it also a way for you to have your cake and eat it too?“

“What?” he scoffs.

“You have the beautiful wife, incredible children, and the comfort of knowing that someone is there for you 24/7. There’s also the glitz, fame, millions of people adoring you, and tons of money too. Pretty nice setup if you ask me.”

"Well, I didn’t and you’re full of shit, that’s what you are.” He points at her as he stands, then places his hands on his hips as he stares at the ground.

“Oh, you wish I was full shit.”

“Are you saying I was wrong? Should I have never married the woman I love and never had a family?”

“No, I’m saying you should think about what she wants and needs. Loads of people have jobs in the music industry that don’t take them constantly away from their families. She needs you to be present. She wants to know her husband isn’t writing a song in his head or doesn’t need to go meet with Jeff or whatever it is you do.“ She waves her hand.

"Whatever it is I do?”

“Yes, whatever it is, you do. You realize they need to eat soon.” She nods toward the kids’ rooms.

“Okay, well, let’s get that sorted.” He picks up his phone.

“Is Y/N still breastfeeding?”

“Weaning, but we have milk too.”

Gemma picks up the mugs, napkins, and the plate with one last biscuit and walks to the kitchen. Harry thumbs at the screen of his phone.

When she returns, she says, “The kitchen’s still a mess, isn’t it?”

“I cleaned it.” Harry stares at his phone.

“That’s not clean, Harry.”

“”Tis.”

“No, that’s half-assed,” she says.

Harry doesn’t look up.

“What did you order?”

He shakes his head as he focuses on the phone and scrolls.

“I don’t know what to order.”

“Just choose something. It’s not life-altering.”

Harry stands and leaves the room, heading to Y/N’s office.

When he returns, he carries a thick, heavy binder. "So bloody much.” He drops it on the coffee table and sits.

“Jesus, Harry, gonna break the flippin’ glass off the table. What is that?”

The deep red binder is a 4-inch, 3-ring binder. It’s open, laid flat on the table. It has three color-coded sections: purple, yellow, and blue. “This binder- is filled with everything we could possibly need to know about m’ kids.”

Gemma shakes her head. "No, things you need to know about your kids. Your kids Harry, things you need to know, do you hear yourself?”

His eyes are fixed on the binder as he flips through it, but he doesn’t respond. “Gemma. Each child has their own color. She has their likes and dislikes, allergies, movies they hate, songs they like, ways to calm ‘em down, and discipline that works. She also knows when to take it easy on them and when to be stern. She’s even got their favorite clothes.”

“Well, numb nuts, learning anything?”

He rolls his eyes and nods. “Yeah, but it’s so much.” He closes the book and picks up the phone. He punches around on the screen, scrolling once again.

Gemma reaches across the table, picks up the binder, and places it on her lap. She turns the pages, stopping on certain ones to skim the page.

After a few minutes, Harry puts his phone on the table. “Got it. 20 minutes it’ll be here.” He lays his head back against the sofa.

“Did you decide to order by looking at this?”

He chuckles. “No, I actually know what they like from The Dragon.” He sits up and gets his phone. “Gotta call Winifred, make sure she’s coming tomorrow.”

“It’s Sunday.”

“Yeah, she started comin’ on Sundays to get us setup for the week, and she has some sorta smthn she likes to do on Mondays.” He picks up the phone and dials the number. Soon there is someone else on the other end. “Yes, Winifred. It’s Mr. Styl-. Yes, I know it must be a surprise to hear from me. Look, I was calling to make sure you will be here tomorrow. I’m sorry, say again. Yeah, train stations can be quite loud. Oh, she did? No, I think there must’ve been a misunderstanding. Y/N is not available at the moment, so that must be a mistake. Really? Well, it would be really lovely if you could come in. Oh, of course, yes. I’m sorry to bother you, and please enjoy your time. We’ll see you when you get back. Take care.” Harry hits the red button on the phone’s screen.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Gemma glances up from a binder. She almost laughs at his overreaction to everything. “What now?”

“The housekeeper, Winifred? She’s at the train station, so she won’t be here this week. Y/N called and told her she could have a paid week off so she could visit her family.“

Now Gemma really wants to laugh. Well done, Y/N.

“What now, Gem?”

"I don’t know, Harry.” She turns a page in the binder, not even caring what she reads, just doesn’t want to look at Harry.

“Listen, there’s plenty of space. Maybe you could stay and-“

She shakes her head, “No, absolutely not.”

“C’mon, Gemma, I need ya.’”

“No, I can’t. I have work. Tomorrow is a super busy day. I’ve got to set my own self up for the week. And what you need to do is listen to your wife.”

“I’m callin’ her again. I mean callin’ her, not textin’ this time.”

Gemma notices that whenever he feels excited about something, good or bad, his hometown accent pops up, especially in private.

He dials Y/N. In seconds he hangs up the phone. “Voicemail.”

“Must’ve turned it off,” Gemma replies.

“Or maybe the battery died.”

"Maybe. Okay, so you don’t have Y/N. That’s a given. Winifred won’t be here, and I’m not staying, so what’s your plan?”

“She’ll be back tomorrow. Won’t be able to stay away from the kids longer than that.“ He stares at the floor. “Where could she be?”

The two are quiet for a long time.

Gemma breaks the silence. "Did you know that Lola will only eat peas if you mix them in applesauce? Strange combo, but she is your child, so strange comes naturally, I suppose.”

“What?”

“Lola, her pea, applesauce combo?”

“Yeah. That started sometime when I was on tour.”

A cry from the nursery pierces the air. Harry stands and jogs down the hall. She follows closely behind him. He pushes Archer’s door open. It appears the three kids were playing on the floor until a moment ago.

Harry picks up a crying Lola. “What’s this all about, huh? Wha’s m’ girl cryin’ for?” He kisses her head and pulls her close. Tears, drool, and snot drip down her face like a little waterfall. “What happen’?” Harry asks the other two.

“Nothing, Daddy,” Archer says.

“Well, somethin’ obv’sly happen,’ or she wouldn’t be cryin’ like this, would she?”

“She’s a baby,” Poppy answers as she rolls a toy truck along the rug.

Gemma stands at the door.

“We were just playing Dad, just rolling the ball like we were when you and Auntie Gemma left,” Archer says.

Harry walks to the changing table and grabs a burp cloth to wipe Lola’s face. “Told you to be gentle with her. She’s just now sittin’ and playin’ without fallin’ ver all the time. Gotta be careful. Can’t have been five minutes since we left ya’ in here.”

“We were nice, Daddy. She didn’t even fall over,” Archer points out.

“Oh my goodness, my sweet girl, you’re burnin’ up.” Harry cuddles her even tighter.

Gemma extends her arms toward the baby as she approaches. “Let me see Harry, so over the top all the time. She’s probably just a bit warm.” She takes the baby in her arms and places her hand on her face. "Jesus, Harry, she is like a stove.”

“See, I told you she was hot. Oh, you’re so dramatic, Harry, quit bein’ over the top, Harry,” he mocks. The gate buzzes. “Must be the food- that was fast.”

“Not really; we’ve been in the living room for a while, just not talking.”

“Shove it with semantics, Gemma.” Harry walks past Gemma, down the hall, and out the front door.

“Soups on people. Whoever wants to eat,” he calls from the living room.

The kids run to the front of the house, where they find Harry carrying two large white paper shopping bags. Lola is in Gemma’s arms, still sniffling and whimpering . The scent of warm spices wafts through the room. “Smells delicious,” Gemma says.

“What is it, Daddy?” Poppy asks.

“The Dragon.”

It’s not called The Dragon, but that’s what the kids call the Asian restaurant the family frequents.

Lola continues to cry. “I’ll take her temperature. I’ll be back.” Gemma says, then turns and leaves the room.

“Okay, follow me to the kitchen. We aren’t gonna mess up Mummy’s pretty dining room table tonight.”

“She’s not here,” Poppy replies.

"Still, we aren’t going to mess up her table.”

Archer, Poppy, and Harry walk to the breakfast nook. He places the bags on the table, opens them, and begins revealing the night’s offerings. The kitchen light is on, but not over the table. He reaches up and pulls the string to the light as the kids sit, eager to eat. He puts two white cardboard containers on the table. Archer reaches over.

“S’cuse me, wait, please.“ Harry rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Sorry.”

Two more containers are removed, followed by two more. The second bag contains three more containers, cutlery, napkins, and plates. The children sit quietly, fidgeting, waiting to dig in. He walks behind them and pulls the frilly blue curtains closed. "We aren’t usually here at night, are we? Didn’t close ‘em this afternoon. Need to keep these closed.”

“Why?” Poppy asks.

"So the psychos can’t see us.”

“What’s psycho?”

“Archer, tha’s not a polite word,” Harry says.

“You say it. Cause Dad’s famous.”

“Famous?”

“Lots of people know him because of his singing,” Archer says.

Walking back to the other side of the table, Harry sighs. He opens two containers. “We have yours here, Poppy. Chicken fried rice, one piece of chicken, and one egg roll.” He opens the container, puts some on a plate, and hands her a fork and spoon. “Archer, shrimp, and no rice, with tons of veggies and one egg roll. You like the things I like. Good boy.” He serves him a plate.

Gemma returns and rests against the counter. “Not as high as I thought, probably just got too warm, but she does have a bit of a fever. What do you usually give her?”

"It’s in our bathroom, the medicine cabinet, the one by the sink on the right side.”

Gemma motions with her hand. "C'mon, you can do it. What’s it called, Harry?”

“Where is she?”

“In her crib.”

“Is she still cryin’? Wha’d ya leave her for?”

Gemma rolls her eyes. “I’m on my way back. Tell me about the medicine.”

“It’s red liquid. Never mind, I’ll get it.” Harry exits the kitchen and heads toward the children’s rooms.

Gemma walks over to the table. “Wow, this looks delicious and smells wonderful.” She sits with the kids for a moment before serving herself.

                                                                       ###

“Okay, she’s down. It took her a while, but she fell asleep,“ Harry says as he returns to the kitchen.

Gemma throws away the dirty plates, cups, and containers. "She alright?”

“Yeah.” Harry’s reply is curt.

“It was so yummy, Daddy,” Poppy says.

“Good, baby. I’m glad you liked it.”

“Is it time for ice cream?” Archer asks.

Harry sits. “Let me finish my food, mate.”

“Yeah, mate,” Poppy says as she stands in her seat.

“Poppy, when did all this standin’ on furniture start? Bottom. Seat. Now” He points to the bench beneath her.

Poppy sits.

“So, let me see, which one did I order? Ah, here it is.” Harry picks up the container and opens it to find room-temperature food. He gives a slight pout and then shrugs. “Eaten worse.” He serves himself. Before he sat, he was famished, but after four bites, he’s lost his desire for the meal.

Gemma wipes the countertops and going back over Harry’s previous kitchen cleanup. He covers the container of food and pushes it to the side. “Maybe I’ll want this later.” He stands, walks to the trash, and drops his plate in.

“Can we have ice cream now?” Archer asks.

“What?”

“You said we could have ice cream after dinner.”

“Oh yeah.” He walks to the fridge and opens the freezer door. “Gemma, you don’t have to clean that.“

“Don’t mind,” she answers.

He studies the freezer. "No ice cream; looks like we’re out.”

“But you promised.”

“I know, dude, but I didn’t know we didn’t have any.”

“Ice cream, Daddy,” Poppy calls out.

“Said we’re out, din’, I?”

“Can we go get some?” Archer asks.

Harry stares into the freezer, willing the ice cream to appear. “What? No, we’re not venturing out for ice cream.”

“But you promised.”

Harry walks over to Archer, leans over, and places his hand on the table. “Said we were out, that we’re not gonna go for any. Archer, you know you have really tried my patience today. Shudn’t give you any just based on your behavior, so when I say we’re out, that’s it. Full stop.“

Archer starts to cry.

“Now, we’re not cryin’. Normally, I understand, but today you’ve not been at your best, so I’ll see what we’ve got for a treat, but we’re not havin’ ice cream, and the cryin’ can stop.”

Harry walks to the pantry. Archer stops but still sniffles as he wipes his face on his shirt.

“Do you think Sarah would know? Where she is, I mean.” Gemma asks.

“Don’t think so.” Harry takes a bag of biscuits off the shelf and gives it to the children. "Two. You can each have two.” He puts two fingers in the air, opens the package, then sets it down before he turns to Gemma. He leans against the table, arms folded across his chest, legs crossed at the ankle. The children dig into the bag of biscuits.

“I don’t think she would know and I wouldn’t really wanna call ‘er, just yet because then she’ll tell Mitch, that blabber mouth will tell someone else.”

“He’s your closest mate, Harry.”

“But can’t keep a secret for shit.” Harry laughs. “Then Jeff is calling soon and he wants to know about my life story.”

"Well, then, my baby brother, what’s your plan?”

He straightens his posture, walks to Gemma, and then leans on the counter next to the sink. “Don’t have one, Gem. I don’t. I didn’t ever picture her leavin’ me, especially not knowin’ where she is.” He keeps his voice low, then drops to a whisper. “It’s scaring me,Sis.”

“I am so sorry this happened, Harry. I really am. I wish I knew what to say.” She finishes washing her hands and then dries them on a kitchen towel.

"If you can’t stay, and I understand you have work, then I’ve got to call Mum. She could leave in the morning and be here sometime in the afternoon.”

“Can’t. She’s on some kind of retreat. Tried to call her on my way over.”

"Dammit, Gemma, I told you I wasn’t callin’ her yet.”

"Calm your britches, hot pants. I was calling her about something else.”

Harry shrugs. “Okay, well then, it looks like ’m on m’ own tomorrow.”

She nods toward the children. "Want me to stay for their baths and help put them to bed?”

“Nah, yeh alright, I’ll do it.” He opens his arms and reaches over for a hug.

She embraces her brother.

“She’s coming back, right, Gem?”

“You’re gonna be fine, Harry. All of you.“

                                                          ###

Lola’s cries jolt Harry awake at 3 AM. After being fussy all night, she’s only been down for four hours. Getting up with her at night is nothing new to him. When he’s home, he’s always the first one up with the kids at night. Nevertheless, a good night’s sleep would be welcome. Getting up, he walks towards Lola’s room.

The nightlight guides him to her bed once he’s in her room. As he picks her up, he bends over and kisses her. Holding her close, he rubs her back. "Shhh. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

She cries and chews on her hand. “Dada.”

‘”Yeah, Dada’s got you. Let’s go change your diaper, shall we? Maybe that’s what you need.“ He walks to her changing table, lies her down, and cleans her up while she cries. Singing Adore You, he smiles at her. “Walk through fire for you. Just let me adore you,” He stops singing. “And darling, Daddy would walk through fire for you. He would do anything for you. I hope you always know that for the rest of your life.” When he is finished changing her, he picks her up and places her head on his shoulder.

For a moment, her cries soften, but soon they rip through the room again. “Let’s get your lovie, okay?” He walks to her crib to get her stuffed turtle, but he doesn’t see it. His hand reaches out and grabs a stuffed frog from her dresser for her to cuddle. She throws it on the ground as he sits in the chair. After picking it up, he gives it to her and begins rocking her. Still crying, she throws it again. Oh baby, why don’t we take your temperature? You don’t seem to be too hot, but let’s check.” He reaches over to the changing table and pulls out the thermometer. “Sit still for a minute, my angel. Daddy will be super quick.” He takes her temperature. It reads 100.6, which isn’t ideal but isn’t alarming. We’ll get you some medicine to help bring down your fever, okay?“

He stands and carries the baby back to his and Y/N’s bedroom. Once there, they walk to the bathroom, get the medicine, and in no surprise twist, she spits half of it out. Harry does not want to give her anything else to make up for what she has spit out. "Oh, that’s not very helpful, is it? You need all your medicine.” As the baby continues to cry, he walks the floor with her, jostling her just a bit. “Where’s your cute frog, huh? Where has he gone?” He carries the baby only to find the frog on the hallway floor. Her tiny chest releases a rough, rattled cough.

He picks up the stuffed frog and hands it to her. She throws it down. Harry gives up and leaves it there. Once back in the bedroom, he sits on the bed and turns on the TV. He’s not watching it, but it’s just something to drown out the silence filled only with Lola’s cries and the most recent addition of a cough. It doesn’t appear she’s about to quiet down anytime soon. Almost an hour after she woke up, Lola finally falls asleep on his chest. In the absence of her cries, Harry has drifted off as well. He wakes up to see the baby is finally calm. He lays the baby in the spot where his wife usually sleeps, covers half of her with a sheet, turns off the television, and falls asleep.

                                                          ###

A knock at the door startles him awake. He glances at the clock. It is 7:33. “Yes.” he croaks.

“Daddy.”.

“Yes.”

“Can I come in?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

She walks over to the bed. “Why’s Lola in here?”

“She was feeling sick last night, so Daddy brought her in here.”

She pouts and looks at the floor. “Not fair.”

“What?”

She points to the baby. “She gets to be in here.”

“Well, I’m sorry, love, but don’t I always bring you in here when you’re sick?”

She looks at the ground. “Or stay in my room.”

“That’s right, but we’re always together if you’re sick, aren’t we?”

“Uh-huh.” She nods, then struggles to climb up on the bed with Harry and Lola, grabbing at the fluffy, white duvet..

"Here, Popscicle, let Daddy help, but walk over to my side- don’t want you falling on top of the baby.”

Poppy walks over to Harry, and he picks her up. She crawls over and plops down hard on his abdomen.

“UH, God, don’t kill me, kid. Don’t mind you comin’ up here but don’t need you playin’ so rough.”

“Sorry, Papa.”

He closes his eyes, but Poppy leans over, pushing his cheeks together. “You have a beard. It sticks.”

“Not quite a full beard but kind of, yeah.“ He rubs his nose while his eyes remain closed, then rests his hand above his head on the pillow. .

“Why?”

“It’s my time off, so I haven’t wanted to shave.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Sorry, I’ll consult you next time.”

“What?” She pulls the claw clip out of his hair, then tugs on his ear.

"Okay, Pop, let’s be calm.” He pats her on the hip. “We don’t need so much activity th’s early, do we?”

She grabs his large, bare hands. "Where are your rings?”

“Don’t need ‘em to sleep.”

Lola begins to whimper, but Harry places his hand on her. “Shh, Daddy’s here.” Her cries grow a little stronger just as there is a knock at the door, even though the door is open.

“Come in, Archer.”

“How’d ya’ know it was me?” He walks over to the bed.

“Didn’t figure a robber was knockin’ on the door, did I?

Archer climbs onto the foot of the bed and walks over to Harry and Poppy. "Archer, crawl or scoot, please before you-”

And before Harry can finish, the boy loses his balance and falls on Lola’s leg. She screams shrill and loud. The boy scurries away from her.

Now Harry’s eyes are open. “What is wrong with you?“ Told ya a million times to be careful ‘round the baby.” Harry sits up, then lifts Lola into his arms, soothing her with soft words and a back rub. "Why are you lot like a very adorable but ruthless gang?”

“What?” Archer asks.

“Said you’re adorable but complete chaos, don’t mind the rules, and act mean to people, like a gang, aren’t ya?”

“Did Mummy call?” Archer asks. “Did she?”

Harry hadn’t planned ahead for the question, partially because he hoped Y/N would come home or, at a minimum, actually call. "She’s fine. She is resting, just like I told you.”

“Will she call later?” Poppy asks.

“Not sure.” The baby continues to cry, though she’s much quieter now. “Alright, I’ll get Lola changed and freshened up since we’re all awake. You two go brush your teeth and wash your faces.”

Archer jumps off the bed but remains on his feet for only a second before landing on his knees. With the crying baby balanced in his arms, Harry crawls to where Archer is. “Alright?”

Breathless and startled, Archer answers, “Yeah.” He rubs his foot.

“Gonna hurt y’rself told ya ‘bout jumpin’ off the furniture. Thought we understood this.”

“Saw you jump over some stairs on stage. You didn’t get hurt,” he replies.

Harry scoots to the edge of the bed and stands. “Yeah, well, Daddy does lots of things he shouldn’t but ’m a grown-up.”

“Still dumb.” Archer stands.

“With that word again, Archer, if you say dumb one more time, ’m gonna g’v ya a timeout. Told ya ‘bout that yesterday.”

Poppy is jumping on the bed. “Hey, just watched ya’ brother fall, and now ya jumpin’ like a silly monkey. And stop jumpin’ and standin’ on furniture, will ya?”

“Don’t be mad, Daddy. It’s fun.” Her half-flattened curls swirl around her, as she flies up into the air.

She stops when she lands.

“Lots of things are fun, but that doesn’t mean we gotta do everything that’s fun. Poppy, come here. I’ll help you down. Now, go do what I said and brush your teeth and wash your faces..”

Poppy stumbles across the bed to Harry, who lifts her in his arms and puts her on the floor. Lola continues to fuss and cough, the rattle still in her chest. With a gentle pat, he hits Poppy’s bum. “Off ya’ go.”

Poppy rushes out of the room with Harry close behind. Archer limps alongside Harry. The children go into their bathroom, and Harry enters the nursery.

                                                          ####

“But today is donut day,” Archer says. “And my foot hurts.”

“Well, it might be donut day usually, but not today. I’ll make ya breakfast here. And as for ya foot, whose fault is that?” Harry takes eggs from the fridge.

Archer pouts and leans back on the bench in the breakfast nook. “Not fair.”

“Yeah, lotsa things not fair, my man.” While holding Lola, he grabs the milk and juice and then places them on the counter.

“But you promised us ice cream yesterday, no ice cream, now donut day, no donuts.” He crosses his arms and kicks the table. “Ow.” Archer cries out. “My foot.”

“What’s with the foot, Arch?”

“Hurt it.”

Harry shakes his head. “Well don’t kick the furniture.”

“Not that, from falling, Dad.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “And if ya hadn’t been jumpin’ wouldn’t happen.”

“Fine, let my leg fall off.”

“Alright mate, here’s the deal, your leg isn’t going to fall off.  Your baby sister is sick. You can’t just start runnin’ about for donuts when someone’s sick- not good for them, and not right to spread germs to other people. We’re stayin’ here.” Harry walks to the pantry to get the bread and returns to the kitchen island. “Where’s Poppy?”

“Dunno.” Archer shrugs.

“Can you go find her, please? Can you do that for me?” Harry walks over and places Lola in her highchair.

Archer sniffles. “My foot hurts.”

Harry walks over to Archer and pats his thigh to signal the little boy to raise his foot. "Le’ me see.”

Archer raises his leg and rests his foot on Harry’s knee. Harry examines his foot. “Yeah, a bit swollen and a little red. Le’ me get you some ice.” He rests Archer’s foot on the bench.

Harry walks to the fridge, gets an ice pack, returns to Archer, and puts the ice on his son’s foot and ankle. “I’m not sure what’s hurt your foot or ankle. Keep it right there. Dad’ll be right back.”

Harry leaves the kitchen and walks to Poppy’s room. He finds Poppy in her closet eating a packet of jelly. Jelly is all over her face. “Oi, what’s this young lady?”

“Jelly.”

"I mean, I see that, but why? And where did you get it? But also, why?” he tries not to laugh at the complete ridiculousness of it all.

“It’s good.”

“It is, but we don’t just eat jelly packets, and why are you in the dark again?”

She laughs. “Can’t reach the light besides told ya I like it Papa.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “So first things first, give me the jelly packet.”

She hands him the small jelly packet split open with the red substance puffing out.

“Are there more?” Harry turns on the closet light.

She nods.

“And can I have them?”

She shakes her head. “No. Mine.”

He squats. “Actually, everything in this house is mine. I paid for it, so really, the jelly is mine.“ He smiles at her. He knows they don’t buy jelly packets, and though he’s curious as to where she got them  he doesn’t have time to talk about now.

“Nope.” She giggles.

"Poppy, please show me where the rest is.”

She stands up and walks out of the room. In the hallway, she picks up Lola’s toy frog. "Why’s this here?”

Harry tosses the half-eaten jelly packet in the bin as he exits the room. “Ya sister threw it down so many times I quit picking it up last night. Guess that’s where it finally landed.”

She lifts her sweet, cherub face to him. "It’s the wrong one.”

“What’s that jelly face?“

She blinks and stares at him. "She doesn’t like it.”

“Well, I couldn’t find her turtle.”

“Prolly lost it. She does that.”

He rubs the top of her head. “You used to do that too.”

“Know, but Mumma fixed it.”

He can’t help but grin. “How’d she do that?”

In her small sticky hand, she takes Harry’s hand and leads him down the hall to a storage closet. “Here.”

“In here?”

“Yeah, it’s got lovies.” She struggles to turn the doorknob.

Harry places his hand over hers and turns the knob. Inside the closet at the very top is a shelf of stuffed animals and blankets, multiples of each one. Some he recognizes are Archer’s, Poppy’s, and Lola’s. “What’s this?”

“If we lose it, Mummy fixes it.”

“Well, that’s very smart of Mummy.“ He reaches up and takes one of the stuffed turtles down, tucks it under his arm. "I’ll cut the tags off this when we get to the kitchen.” He heads back down the hall. “Poppy, need you to wash your face and hands, then come to the kitchen, please.”

Back in the kitchen, Lola kicks and fusses in her highchair. Archer talks to her about football. “So when they score a goal like that, they get a trophy.”

“Talkin’ footie with Lola?” Harry walks to the sink to wash the jelly off his hands.

“Yeah, but my foot still hurts.”

“Let me get ya somethin’ for it. Watch Lola just one more minute- I’ll be right back.”

Harry jogs down the hall, still carrying the turtle. He meets up with Poppy. “Go to the kitchen, love. I’ll be right there.”

“You did it wrong.”

“Did what wrong?”

She points to his hand. “The lovie.”

“What about it? Told ya I was gonna cut the tag off.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I’ll show you.” Her clean but wet hand grabs Harry’s, and she leads him through his bedroom into the bathroom. He walks to the sink, grabs a children’s Tylenol for Archer, and closes the medicine cabinet. Poppy points to the counter. “There.”

“What love? Whatcha pointin’ at?”

“That. Smell good stuff.”

“This?” He points to Y/N’s perfume.

Poppy nods and smiles.

“Mummy’s perfume?”

“Yeah.”

“Poppy Daddy’s had a very crazy morning. Can you help me a little bit, love?”

“Spray the lovie.” She smiles at him.

“Spray the lovie with Mummy’s perfume?”

She nods and smiles again.

Harry picks up Y/Ns signature perfume and sprays the stuffed turtle. “Like that?”

“Yes. Mummy. Now you.”

“Me?” He points to himself and smiles.

“Now, spray you.”

Harry picks up his bottle of cologne. “This? My cologne?”

“Daddy, just spray.” Poppy laughs.

Harry sprays the turtle with his cologne.

“See, all fixed.” She throws her hands in the air.

“That’s it?” he asks.

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, that’s quite smart of Mummy, and you for knowing all of that.” He picks her up. “Does Mummy do that for you?”

“Yep. Then we can smell Mummy and Daddy.”

Harry is sure that if his heart weren’t already broken, it would have shattered at that moment. The baby wanted to smell him and Y/N. That’s why she didn’t like the frog. Harry kisses Poppy. “I love you, Pop. Know that?”

She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him. “I love you,”

Harry lowers her to the ground and walks through the bedroom to his nightstand. He picks up his phone to check for any messages or calls from Y/N. Nothing. “Poppy, run along to the kitchen. I’ll be right there.”

The girl darts out of the room.

He sends Y/N a text.

Y/N I’ve learned my lesson, love. I’ll do better. Swear I will. Please call. Please come home. I’m dyin’ without you here. The kids are OK, except Lola’s a bit sick, but mostly we are all fine. Just want you home. Please, please come home. I love you more than I can ever say. Please at least let me know if you are okay. The kids keep asking about you. They miss you so much. Please give me another chance. XX-H

He slips the phone into his pocket and walks back to the kitchen.

“But he doesn’t even know why.” Poppy laughs as she talks to Archer.

"What’s got, you so giggly, Miss.”

“I was telling Archer about a boy at school.”

Harry walks over to sniffly, whining Lola. “Daddy’s here. Look what I got you.” He shows Lola the toy. He hands the baby the frog. She cuddles it close to her, delivering a fresh dose of snot right to the top of the frog. “I just sprayed it Lo, now it’s not gonna smell nice anymore.”

“It’s okay Dad it’ll be fine. She won’t care, if you sprayed it she’ll like it,” Archer says.

“Arch did you know about the sprayin’ the lovie trick?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, didn’t you?”

Harry smiles. “No. Feeling like I’ve been left out now.”

“Mum just does it,” Archer says. “Dad my foot hurts.”

“Right, sorry, here you go.” Harry hands him the Tylenol, then pours a cup of juice, and hands it to his son.

“So, I’m gonna make breakfast, then I need you guys to play as peacefully as possible because I have something important I need to take care of. Got it?”

The two kids nod.

“’M serious guys. I need ya to not fight, not jump on things, need you to be super, big time quiet. Can you please do this? And Archer, if you are so good, I will make sure we have ice cream by dinner.”

“Pinkie promise, Daddy.” Poppy extends her small pinky to him which he gladly wraps his large pinky around.

“Me too, Dad,” Archer says.  Harry extends his pinky which Archer hooks with his own.

“Alright. Thank you. Love you both.”

                                                           ###

Two hours later

Text From HARRY

Love, I know you’re angry, and I’m so sorry. I was wrong. I know you need your space. I’ll accept that, but can you please let me know you are somewhere safe, and that you are okay? It’s been more than 24 hours. I don’t see transactions on your cards. I know you have a private account and I can’t see that. That’s fine too, but I need to know you are safe. I’m waiting two more hours. If I don’t hear from you I’m calling the police, and reporting you missing.

                                                            ###

“Jeff do you not understand what time off means? Told ya I’m dealin’ with some stuff with m’ family. Told ya I’d call ya back when I get it settled. Yeah I get that but I can’t worry about the new contract right now. We’ve got plenty of time. Send it to my lawyers, once they go over it we’ll talk. OK, then I’ll schedule a meeting with them this week. Gonna talk to ya later.” Harry hangs up, and drops down into his black leather office chair, and exhales.

He spins the chair to face the desk, and opens his laptop, logs into the bank account- no signs of Y/N. He checks her credit cards. No updates to activity. He looks at his texts and missed calls. No Y/N.

He’s known her for nine years. One thing he knows is that she would never want to frighten her children. Even at her maddest the thought of Lola being sick would prompt her to call. Certainly her mum, sisters, and Julia would’ve told her Harry is looking for her. It makes him sick to think of contacting the police. The internet and rumor mills will explode once he does. Y/N knows that too, so the threat of police would’ve compelled her to call.

Harry decides to call her sister, mum and friend once more before taking the next step. After he makes no progress. He knows one more person who might be able to help him figure out what to do. He calls his most trusted security advisor, Liam.

After talking with Liam, he calls a meeting. Jeff, Glenne, Liam, Mitch and Sarah. All of them know he wouldn’t want to meet during a break unless the matter was urgent. Everyone agrees to be at the house in four hours.

“And so that’s it. That’s the whole story.” Harry throws his hands up in defeat, then begins to cry. His eyes water, a few tears trickle down his cheek. He takes a gulp of air. “I’ve called my mum. She was out of town so gotta give her some time. She will be here super early in the morning. We’ll need her. M’ dad is workin’ on fliers and posters. We’ll get those printed in-house so that the public isn’t in a panic before we talk to the police and we are ready to make an official statement.” He cherishes the people who sit at the table yet, he feels it’s betraying  Y/N to share such personal details of their marriage. What if he’s just blowing everything out of proportion? No, she would never do this, never. Something is wrong.

[gingerylangylang1979]

Sydney, Love, Beauty

I don’t know if many others noticed but Syd seems to have glammed up a little in the later episodes of S2. It’s very slight, you would almost miss it but it’s there. She has on shiny sheer lip color (yes, her lips always looked so dry last season, thank you), a sliver of eyeliner, and a touch of mascara. I also noticed her lighting is much improved showing off her perfect skin.

Syd has always been attractive but it just really stuck out to me that after the arrival of Claire she’s looking just a tad more dolled up. Is it connected? Did the makeup artist just decide to experiment more? Will we see more changes in the future?

As a black woman I’m obviously going to analyze this more. Black women are always going to notice how we are portrayed onscreen aesthetically. I remember being so pissed, along with much of the black TWD fandom, about how wamp, wamp Michonne’s wigs were. Were we being reasonable? Would any of us have amazingly groomed dreads during a zombie apocalypse? It wasn’t like the white women had fresh blowouts. Was it on purpose or an oversight?

Back to Syd. They could keep Syd looking the same. They could change her to look more glam. Either choice has implications.

A lot of people read Sydney’s style as signaling that she’s a lesbian. That could make sense. Plenty of lesbians style themselves like Syd. But it could also mean nothing. I have two black women friends that dress very tomboyish and both are very straight. They are like sisters to me. I could testify in court they love dick. But especially for black women any sign of non feminine coded style signals gay. I think this feeds into people having a hard time seeing Syd as interested in men or having the show’s sex symbol attracted to her. She could turn out to be gay but I doubt it given the slow burn with Carmy. She could be bisexual which leaves possibilities open. But I think it’s very interesting that the production choices didn’t decide to make Syd a girlie girl when the writing is making her an object of men’s affections. Part of me is really into that.

On the other hand part of me would love to see her have a glam moment. But this could be potentially problematic. Syd has style but also seems to dress for practicality. So if she is consciously making an effort to look more feminine where is it coming from? Is she just growing into a new look? Is she trying to catch Carmy’s eye? Are the producers consciously trying to make her more appealing to the general audience as a romantic lead?

Personally, I would love to see Syd switch it up a little but not go too far. I would love her to have a more modern hairstyle. Box braids are classic but I want to see a more sophisticated, trendy style. Someone posted about her getting knotless boho braids or passion twists. I’m into it. I just feel like Syd is up on design and I want to see her step her game up as her career rises. I don’t mind the little bit of makeup we saw and would love to see a slightly bolder look if she has someplace to go that’s not a restaurant. On that note, can we please see her somewhere that’s not food related? I also wouldn’t mind seeing her in some lighter colors in her street wear. Her wardrobe was so dark this season.

What I don’t want to see is her doing like a full extreme makeover and that’s the thing that seems to be the catalyst for Carmy to realize he loves her. I feel like that’s fine in some white girl Cinderella story but leaves me cold in a black woman’s love story. And if they do a silk press and that’s her glow up I would be super pissed. I’m not anti her ever having straight hair but if it’s like oh, now the white boy falls for her I will ride at dawn to FX.

I wonder what Sydney’s perceptions of her looks are. She seems confident in so many ways. But, yeah, why did she decide to randomly have a glossy lip? Does she view herself as pretty? Has she dated? Has she been told she’s beautiful?

I’m rambling but my point is she can glow up a bit but I never want the messaging to be she had to “get pretty” to get the guy. If she makes changes I want it to be because she’s evolving, maybe a little flirty, but not thinking she has to be a different person to get who she wants.

[traumasurvivors]

I mean this in a genuine asking way but how do you decide which comments you don’t like to reply to? like I’ve seen other comments in your posts that aren’t great that I’ve never seen you acknowledge which is ok. I’m just wondering!

It depends on a couple factors.

One of the main ones being that my activity feed is very busy and I likely miss comments.

But it also depends on the intent behind the comment. If it’s just to be hateful, or rude and I see it, I’ll block them or remove the reply.

If I think that the person likely means well, I’ll try and explain it because I think there’s room for them to learn and that’s the most productive way to go about things for me if I want people to think about it a bit more.

I’ve had a couple instances where someone had apologized. One was the person not understanding my “not forgiving is valid” stance because they thought that meant that you had to be actively thinking the person and actively held back by your inability to move on. Once they realized that I can forgive but also move on, they acknowledged that while they didn’t persinally understand it, they understood it for me.

The other was someone being upset I talked about it being okay to be an inconvenience sometimes. They were upset I implied that people could be inconveniences to their love ones. I shared some specific examples of how I inconvenience people and how I know they love me and vice versa. They apologized and acknowledged that they were looking at it very black and white.

My overall point is I remember it happening two times where someone’s mind was changed by me approaching things the way I did so even if they’re only two people I actually get to listen, I find it worth trying if that makes sense!

[fromkenari]

Waterloo Letters #4 (1/4): Hometown stuff

Hometown stuff A agcd@eclare45.com                9/2/20 5:12 PM to Henry H, Have been home for three hours. Already miss you. This is some bullshit. Hey, have I told you lately that you’re brave? I still remember what you said to that little girl in the hospital about Luke Skywalker: “He’s proof that it doesn’t matter where you come from or who your family is.” Sweetheart, you’re proof too. (By the way, in this relationship, I am absolutely the Han and you are absolutely the Leia. Don’t try to argue because you’ll be wrong.) I was also thinking about Texas again, which I guess I do a lot when I’m stressed about election stuff. There’s so much stuff I haven’t shown you yet. We haven’t even done Austin! I wanna take you to Franklin Barbecue. You have to wait in line for hours, but that’s part of the experience. I really wanna see a member of the royal family wait in line for hours to eat cow parts. Have you thought any more about what you said before I left? About coming out to your family? Obviously, you’re not obligated. You just seemed kind of hopeful when you talked about it. I’ll be over here, still quarantined in the White House (at least Mom didn’t kill me for London), rooting for you. Love you. xoxoxoxoxo A P.S. Vita Sackville-West to Virginia Woolf—1927: With me it is quite stark: I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal.

Re: Hometown stuff Henry hwales@kensingtonemail.com                9/3/20 2:49 AM to A Alex, It is, indeed, bullshit. It’s all I can do not to pack a bag and be gone forever. Perhaps I could live in your room like a recluse. You could have food sent up for me, and I’ll be lurking in disguise in a shadowy corner when you answer the door. It’ll all be very dreadfully Jane Eyre. The Mail will write mad speculations about where I’ve gone, if I’ve offed myself or vanished to St. Kilda, but only you and I will know that I’m just sprawled in your bed, reading books and feeding myself profiteroles and making love to you endlessly until we both expire in a haze of chocolate sauce. It’s how I’d want to go. I’m afraid, though, I’m stuck here. Gran keeps asking Mum when I’m going to enlist, and did I know Philip had already served a year by the time he was my age. I do need to figure out what I’m going to do, because I’m certainly closing in on the end of what’s an acceptableamount of time for a gap year. Please do keep me in your—what is it American politicians say?—thoughts and prayers. Austin sounds brilliant. Maybe in a few months, after things settle down a bit? I could take a long weekend. Can we visit your mum’s house? Your room? Do you still have your lacrosse trophies? Tell me you still have posters up. Let me guess: Han Solo, Barack Obama, and … Ruth Bader Ginsburg. (I’ll agree with your assessment that you’re the Han to my Leia in that you are, without doubt, a scruffy-looking nerf herder who would pilot us into an asteroid field. I happen to like nice men.) I have thought more about coming out to my family, which is part of why I’m staying here for now. Bea has offered to be there when I tell Philip if I want, so I think I will. Again, thoughts and prayers. I love you terribly, and I want you back here soon. I need your help picking a new bed for my room; I’ve decided to get rid of that gold monstrosity. Yours, Henry P.S. From Radclyffe Hall to Evguenia Souline, 1934: Darling—I wonder if you realize how much I am counting on your coming to England, how much it means to me—it means all the world, and indeed my body shall be all, all yours, as yours will be all, all mine, beloved. … And nothing will matter but just we two, we two longing loves at last come together.

Re: Hometown stuff A agcd@eclare45.com                9/3/20 6:20 AM to Henry H, Shit. Do you think you’re going to enlist? I haven’t done any research on it yet. I’m gonna ask Zahra to have one of our people put together a binder on it. What would that mean? Would you have to be gone a lot? Would it be dangerous??? Or is it just like, wear the uniform and sit at a desk? How did we not talk about this when I was there????? Sorry. I’m panicking. I somehow forgot this was a thing looming on the horizon. I’m there for whatever you decide you want to do, just, like, let me know if I need to start practicing gazing wistfully out the window, waiting for my love to return from the war. It drives me nuts sometimes that you don’t get to have more say in your life. When I picture you happy, I see you with your own apartment somewhere outside of the palace and a desk where you can write anthologies of queer history. And I’m there, using up your shampoo and making you come to the grocery store with me and waking up in the same damn time zone with you every morning. When the election is over, we can figure out what we’ll do next. I would love to be in the same place for a bit, but I know you have to do what you have to do. Just know, I believe in you. Re: telling Philip, sounds like a great plan. If all else fails, just do what I did and act like a huge jackass until most of your family figures it out on their own. Love you. Tell Bea hi. A P.S. Eleanor Roosevelt to Lorena Hickock—1933: I miss you greatly dear. The nicest time of the day is when I write to you. You have a stormier time than I do but I miss you as much, I think. … Please keep most of your heart in Washington as long as I’m here for most of mine is with you!

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 292-297). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

2 | 3 | 4

[yappingmoxie]

idk I think a few years ago when I really realized what all was happening. like I loved (and love that’s important) my family and wanted as much time with them as possible. but a part of me was like “this is bad. this is really bad. and it’s gonna get worse. for sure it is going to get worse. but then you can grieve and things will be lighter and eventually easier. you’ll find new ways to cope and things will suck and you’ll miss them forever but it won’t be so painful. for them or for you. they’ve made their peace so you need to start too” and I know it’s selfish. but none of that is true lol. not in the least. I want em all back. even in the worst of it. I knew how to handle that. knew how to just be when they were here. knew how to care for them and look after them and help. I mean that’s all I’ve ever done. and that’s not a complaint for anyone except my mom. but now I just don’t have that. and life feels a little purposeless. idk. when you’ve been taught since a kid that your reason for being there is looking after people and then all the people you have to care for die it’s hard. and I mean. those were some of the most traumatizing years of my life. having to see family slowly go from strong and themselves to weak and not. like I wouldn’t wish watching ppl you love waste away like that on anyone bc it genuinely is the worst thing I’ve ever seen. but yet I’d be right back there in the worst of it. feeling like there’s no way my heart could break any more if it meant I had them back and could love them. all of them. I talk about my grandma a lot but really I think that’s just because she was always with everyone. I miss my aunt. and my uncle. and my papa. and even sometimes I miss my stupid ass mom. I saw every one of my family cry and they never cried. and I think about that a lot. I remember when my aunt was in hospice and how my uncle never left her side. he still talked to her just like he did before. kept saying how he heard that their hearing is the last thing to go and that broke me a little bit. he didn’t want her to be lonely and I don’t think she was. she had a room full of people loving her. and that was right. that is how everyone should leave. but it doesn’t work that way and it makes me so so so angry. I was the only one who visited my papa. I was the only one who took my grandma to see him. me and her had to be there alone and hear him cry and beg to come home and talk about how he missed us. and we couldn’t and that broke me too. the fact that that was only a few weeks before he died hurts to think about. I think the last thing I remember feeding him was some cherry pie. idk why I remember weird little things like that. I’m glad I do but I also hate it. because I love remembering them. all of them. but I hate it too because it hurts so fucking much all the goddamn time. they’re everywhere but actually here with me. they were all so ingrained into my life for my whole life that it genuinely just feels like bits of me, the bits that are me, are missing. just snatched right out of me and I feel so empty and literally nothing has can or will make me feel whole again. I do not see how people deal with grief when it is so suffocating for me. I know I’m not the only person to experience grief. and I’m sure other people have experienced it worse, as hard as that is to imagine. but grief is so fucking tricky that it really does just make you feel alone in it.

[britcision]

Hey by the way if you ever said even one bitchy fucking word about Griffin “railroading” in the Balance arc where he could see it I want to feed you a thesaurus

It is your fucking fault we have not had an arc as good as Balance since, that so many of the new ones feel like they end out of nowhere with only the vaguest interconnecting threads, because you couldn’t tell the fucking difference between a home game and an actual play

They’ve still done good arcs since! They’ve had some great moments! But THEY HAVE NOT HAD A FUCKING THROUGH LINE, because you chucklefucks couldn’t stop whinging when Griffin gave them a structured adventure with a set number of beats, and an overarching story

Storytelling in a home game, in an open world, is reactive; the DM doesn’t know which quests the players will pick, or stumble across, or in what order, so they have to have contingencies or plan on the fly to fit things together

THIS IS FUCKING HARD. It is not easy, or basic, and if you have not DMed but say this I’m also feeding you the entire WOTC book list from all of the editions

Storytelling in an actual play show, that you expect an audience to watch for the story, NEEDS a degree of railroading

There NEEDS to be a flow of cause and effect between the quests, and the players NEED to work cooperatively, plan ahead, and follow the path that they think makes a good story, even if the DM has strung the path with fairy lights

Balance was as magical as it was because even when he didn’t know what he was doing, Griffin knew exactly where the end was, and approximately when they’d get there, and how long he had to work shit out

It was reactive, it changed based on what they players did, and yeah, they followed where Griffin led them without protest; it was their first damn game

And because Griffin knew basically what each of the six quests would be like, he could include meaningful foreshadowing! Even if he didn’t know what it’d become yet! The red robes! The umbrella! He set this shit up in the first adventure!

And the boys ALSO knew the basic outline, and how far they were! And when to start fucking around with rising action, and Travis “teasing” Magnus joining the red robes in the second or third quest!

Having tracks makes a good fucking story, it means you all know where you’re going without the players needing to know the plot and can trust the DM to get them to the next beat

The McElroys have done a fucking heroic job of telling good stories for all the other seasons when people flipped shit over the story having a fucking outline

We EXPLICITLY missed half the fucking story of Ethersea because each of the quests the boys didn’t choose went on to actively affect the world and the story, which is exactly how home games should go! And is fucking frustrating as an audience because actually no I would have loved to see and see the characters have some fucking impact on that weird swarm of metallic scrap that instead had massive consequences offscreen and went to the rando B-team

And people STILL hounded and bitched at Travis for Graduation like you learned fucking NOTHING about the art of storytelling

I hope y’all realize you, personally, are the reason we haven’t had an arc like Balance since

All of the arcs have been good, and fun, and the metamals gave me life, but Balance was absolute magic and some fucking asshats who can’t tell the difference between a home game and a show harassed the people who made it out of capturing that magic again

I hope everyone who harasses actual players never has a coffee that doesn’t taste of nail polish remover or a sunrise without a bird shitting on their head again

May your only internet connection for the rest of your life be dial up

[ivdiaries]

Wired

What is it about dreams and why do we dream about people in the past that we haven’t talked to or seen in years?

There’s this one guy in highschool that I fell in love with (one-sidedly) but during our second year, his family migrated in Canada. The last time I saw him was 12 years ago (2011), when we were in our junior year and he visited our old school. 

As far as I remember, the last time I talked to him through Facebook was around 2014/2015 - one time I decided to check out his account - I was unfriended, and all posts were hidden, there were no details of him either. I’m not sure if he has another Facebook account or if he’s still friends with his close buddies here.

But that was the last time.

I know I never really needed closure because we never dated and he never even showed an interest in me. I was also dating other people at the time, so it didn’t become a big deal for me. All I know is he never liked anyone from school, or if he did, I don’t know who that might be.

I was able to move on from him and that one sided situation BUT THEN he started appearing in my dreams. At first, I felt happy dreaming of him, because I haven’t really thought about him in a long time. 

Until the dreams became rampant. It started when I was in a relationship with my 4-year (ex) girlfriend, but I ignored those dreams because I felt like it doesn’t really mean anything. 

But the dreams were so vivid. At some point I thought it was REAL. 

And I dreamt of him today. The scenes were the usual - the location is at school, we were surrounded by other people like classmates, friends - but the thing is he’d always end up liking me. 

But it never really pursued into anything - because suddenly I wake up, feel overwhelmed, and forget about it. 

I don’t know what that means, but it seriously makes me feel sad because I know it won’t happen in real life. And it’s probably my subconscious mind feeding my delusions or giving me the closure I never thought I needed.

I just realized that maybe, you don’t really lose feelings for the person/people who used to be a significant part of you. You know that you will always love them and you’d always wish for them to be happy and thriving. You just lose the feeling of longingness. You miss them, you love them, but you don’t long for them anymore. You don’t feel the need to reach out, you don’t feel the need to tell them what you feel because you’re satisfied wherever you are in your life right now. And wherever you go, you know you will always have that love for them hidden in the closet in the back of your mind, inside a jar that is tight shut.

Jullian will always be my first love. He’ll always be the first guy I know I fell in love with, and I find peace in knowing that I don’t know anything about him, and I’d rather it stay that way. 

[anti-gravity-insanity]

I wouldn’t expect to be offered food if visiting someone’s house???

[charnelhouse]

and the high won't fade here

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader. Rick Flag x F!Reader Wordcount: 6.5K+ Warnings: rough smut. threesome. dp. choking. hair touching. sex magic. Summary: She saves Bucky. She saves Rick. There's always a cost though. A/N: title from Lykke Li. this is absolute chaos and most written in a fever dream.

Bucky thinks she’s beautiful before she even introduces herself. It’s not like a half-thought observation - not like a fact or subtle realization. He feels it. It burns low in his gut and makes his breath catch and Bucky has never - not once - believed in love at first sight, but he certainly has believed in lust.

It must be that: chemical attraction.

Desire.

“I’m James,” he says as he takes her hand - feels a twitch of something. “Guess you’re fighting with us.”

Her lips split apart - white teeth shiny and pearlescent as the cheek of the moon. She reminds him of a doll – fragile features – pen-stroke lashes – the click and jerk of her head as she regards him with subtle interest. She squeezes his hand - thumb nudging into the thin skin. “Guess so.”

Bucky swallows.

***

Since the original Avengers had retired, died, or left for greener pastures, Sam and Bucky had needed backup. Wanda was missing. Strange had bigger things to deal with than Hydra or AIM cells in the far corners of the world. Peter had high school and Aunt May scared Sam enough that he didn’t want to recruit Spiderboy unless they really needed it.

So Fury called in favors - found other enhanced individuals who could help them out.

Are they paid?

Not exactly.

So why would they work for us?

Freedom.

Explain.

Not that you have room to argue, but they may or may not be prisoners.

What?!

It’s fine, Wilson. They’re chipped. Can’t do anything beyond orders.

Sounds like a really swell idea.

Like you have room to talk, Barnes. I’m still getting shit for the Zemo jailbreak.

That’s where she came in - plucked and placed onto the team (or lack of team).

Siren. Succubus. Not exactly professional names, but Hill had informed Sam and Bucky that the titles fit her talents.

She feeds off sexual energy.

Come again?

Sex - either having it or being close to it - boosts her. She goes all glowy - can transfer energy or health or control large amounts of power that can turn people into pink confetti.

Is that the professional description?

We can’t just travel around with her needing sex 24/7.

Speak for yourself.

She doesn’t need it every day, boys. Now shut up and go meet her.

***

Bucky had wondered if the whole lust sensation that was currently exploding through his system was something she was causing on purpose. But he’d asked Sam if he felt the same way and he didn’t.

I mean she’s smokin hot, but I don’t feel butterflies.

I didn’t say they were butterflies, Wilson.

You insinuated it.

I did not.

Someone has a crush on the new chick.

Fuck off.

Contrary to what Bucky had assumed, she was quiet and soft-spoken. She fought brilliantly and never once brought up the fact that she fed off sex to live.

He watched her every time - eyes riveted to the movements of her body - the strength and talent locked in her skills She was good - better than good.

She was also really fucking nice, especially to him. Bucky found it alarming - unsettling. This “villain” who had been collared and made to heel for her government.

He didn’t care to admit that he felt for her – he didn’t approve of the fact that she had a chip stuck in her neck that threatened to blow her head to kingdom come should she step out of line.

It hit too close to home. It seared through his chest - made it shutter. He felt his own ghost-pains at the thought – the idea – a soldier forced to fight with her death held above her like some macabre piece of blackmail. His arm ached - right where metal met flesh.

One day, he asks her about her chip. They’re at an outpost in Stockholm and the two of them are sorting through files - papers dated back to the forties. Yellowed and crinkled. That familiar stark black type.

She brushes blood off her forehead – smearing it down her cheek like a slash of war paint. Old and dried and stuck under her fingernails. Pennies and metal in the air. Bucky knew the smell better than anyone – it almost comforted him.

“Does it hurt?” he asks.

She pins him with a sideways glance. “Does what hurt?”

“The chip.”

She shrugs. “It itches.”

***

They’re in Rome for another mission. Bucky doesn’t know where she goes between them. He doesn’t know if she has a house or a family. He doesn’t know if she’s sent right back to Belle Reve and that thought particularly hurts him.

He can’t imagine her there. This sun-bright girl locked away in something as sharp and cold as that prison. Even as the Winter Soldier, he knew of it. He was aware that it was a place you didn’t want to get shoved into for fear of never getting out.

You’re better off dead, soldat. Shoot yourself if you ever get caught.

Bucky grimaces. No - he didn’t like thinking about her there.

“Where is she?” Sam growls as he searches the crowds milling about the Trevi Fountain. “We’re supposed to get back to the jet.”

Bucky scans the area. It’s hot - stifling summer air that is making him sweat and fidget. He’s still not entirely used to warm climates. As the soldier, he doesn’t remember if he ever acknowledged the weather. Sometimes he has nightmares about violent winter storms – icy black rain sluicing down his nose and into his mouth. He drowns in snow and has no tongue to scream. He always wakes on his bedroom floor - in a tangle of sheets with his heart pulsing in his throat. He sometimes cries - damp on his cheeks as he peels open his eyes to his dark ceiling and the lazy circle of the plastic fan. It blurs - his space underwater due to the gloss of tears. His grief is his bedfellow - only coming to touch him when he’s at his most vulnerable.

Bucky flexes his gloved hand at his side. He decidedly hates hot weather.

“You stand the fuck out wearing that leather jacket,” Sam observes. “Same with the man-bun.”

“It’s not a man-bun.”

Sam gapes at him before he points to his hair.

“You’re a man and that’s a bun.”

“It’s - it’s just out of my face. It’s not like I’m trying. It’s half up and half down.”

“Yeah,” Sam drawls. “It’s still a -”

“Hi guys,” she crows as she appears in front of them. She’s balancing three cones in her hands - the cream dripping over the creases of her knuckles. Bucky has the strangest desire to lick it off.

“Hungry?” Sam grins – covering the fact that he’d been pissed at her only moments before.

Her brow furrows before her eyes widen in realization. “Oh! No - these are for you. It’s gelato.”

Bucky’s lips twitch. “You got us gelato?”

Her expression grows sheepish as she passes them each a cone. “You guys mentioned wanting it last night and didn’t know if you’d have time to get it so I just ran over to a shop back there. Threatened the owner and everything so I could cut the line.”

“You what?” Sam asks just as he licks the scoop of gelato. He takes a second lick before closing his eyes in satisfaction. He shuts right up after that, seemingly forgetting about her threatening the good citizens of Rome.

Bucky’s is pale green. “You remembered I liked pistachio?” he mutters - almost to himself.

“Yeah,” she replies. “And raspberry for Sam.”

“Damn,” Sam smirks. “You’re an angel.”

She blinks at him. “Not really. Not at all to be honest.”

It’s just a figure of speech and yet she’s taken it to heart – to her chest. I’m not. Not really. Not at all.

“Hush,” Sam chastises as he throws an arm around her shoulder, leading her back to the car. “Gelato fixes everything.”

***

They eat street tacos in their motel room after a particularly hard mission in Arizona. She’s got bits of lettuce in her hair as she stuffs a dripping chicken taco into her mouth. Bucky stares at her tongue - the sweep of it across her lower lip. Christ.

“So what got you sent to Belle Reve?” Sam asks.

She chews thoughtfully. “Something dumb.”

“Can I ask what exactly?” Sam presses and her forehead wrinkles. Bucky wants to punch him in the face.

“Didn’t you read my file? I thought they’d give you one.”

“Fury has it,” Sam explains. “We don’t read the files, just go where pointed and with whoever Fury wants us to go with.”

“It’s because he can’t read,” Bucky interjects - palm across his heart. “Poor guy.”

“Dick.”

She laughs, but it’s stilted - forced. “Bummer.”

Bucky sees it. The flash that changes her expression. She’s dragging her guard back up - masking herself because Sam has just punched a nerve that she didn’t want to touch. Her features unreadable – a tossed puzzle now disassembled. Scattered parts on the floor. All those tiny steps forward now erased with Sam’s question.

“Gonna go to bed,” she announces – cutting the bloated silence between them.

She stands up and immediately bites her lip, pain sparking across her face. She turns around with a wince as she favors her left side.

He hadn’t noticed it before - hadn’t noticed her injury and he’s disappointed in himself.

“You hurt?

She doesn’t respond, just waves her hand in a don’t worry about it gesture before disappearing out into the hall.

Sam fixes him with a pointed look.

“What?”

“She never told us what she did.”

“Maybe - it’s personal.”

“It’s public record.”

“Well - she obviously doesn’t want to talk about it so lay off. She’s been nothing, but nice.”

Sam whistles - lying back on his elbows. The shitty bed creaks with his weight as he kicks off his shoes. “Someone’s testy about their girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, but you want her to be.”

“I’ve known her for like ten days put together.”

“Love is love, man.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “You’re being a fuckhead.”

Sam’s eyebrows nearly reach his hairline. “Where’d you learn that one?”

***

Bucky wonders if he has a sixth sense because he wakes in the middle of the night and knows. It’s more likely that his super-soldier ears picked up on the sounds coming from her room. The walls are thin here - cheap and peeling with paint. He catches a whimper - a tiny sob.

He doesn’t really think. He just goes out into the hall, breaking her door handle off and swinging it open to find her in the bathroom - curled in on herself - ass perched on the bathtub.

“Fuck,” he says. “What’s the matter?”

Her head shoots up and there’s more pain there - glossy and alarm-bright in her pupils. Agony. He knows pain better than anyone - remembers it like a lost lover since he had doled it out in kind just as he had received it. He drops to his knees - his fingers careful as he reaches for her side. “Let me see.”

“It’s fine,” she grits.

“Don’t be stubborn.”

Her eyes narrow, but she does as he says. She leans back - letting him ruck her shirt up and he bites down on his tongue when he sees the injury. It’s a gash - gaping and red and still weeping blood. He can see the muscle – the dark tissue. “I bandaged it,” she explains. “Thought it would go away, but I haven’t - haven’t really been able to - to a - um -”

“Feed?” he offers as he squeezes her knee. His thumb circles the soft skin there – a gesture he hopes she finds comforting.

Her nostrils flare, but she nods. “I can’t heal very well as a result.”

He sits back on his heels - watching her carefully. She looks ashamed - bowing her head to stare at his chest rather than his face. “What do you need?”

She chokes on a laugh – loud and sharp as a bullet in the still bathroom. “Don’t be silly, James.”

“Bucky,” he corrects. “Think we’re at that stage now.”

She finally meets his eyes - her lips curling ever so slightly. Her cheeks are plump and pretty. Her whole damn everything is fucking stunning, and Bucky wants to be there for her. He wants it.

“I want to help you,” he continues. “Let me help you.”

She stares at him for what feels like minutes. It’s like she’s sizing him up - trying to dig through the patchwork of his features to see if he’s being genuine. He hides himself well. He plays a part most of the time. Hydra had broken him in a way that he’d probably never fix. He still woke up screaming on occasion. He still felt that invisible leash tug at his neck, making him think that if he’d turn in the wrong direction, he’d get yanked back into that prison. He hadn’t been a person for years - hadn’t been anything. No emotions. No real thoughts. Nothing, but a blank slate and an empty room where only his orders lived.

He’s still learning how to smile fully - with his heart - with his lungs. He’s learning how to be a person worth talking to – worth sharing dinner with – worth more than what he does for a living. He wonders if she’s the same. He wonders if she feels used like he does – if she finds it difficult to interact with the world because all she knows is how to save it.

He tries his best. He tries to be normal and that tends to mean keeping his true feelings under wraps. He usually costumes himself with a sardonic scowl – a cold front for a face.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” she finally says.

He keeps circling her knee – tentatively adding pressure to the spot. Her lashes flutter and his breath hitches. She’s fucking something.

“I do.”

He does mean this. He doesn’t mean everything, but he does mean this. He does want to help you.

“It’ll drain you,” she warns. “Not a lot, but you’ll feel sluggish.”

“It’s the end of the mission anyway, doll.”

Doll. Where the fuck had that come from? Some memory sparking up inside the swiss-cheese mess of his mind. He’d used that on girls back when he was a young man - running through Brooklyn with the world on fire.

“God,” she teases. “You’re old.”

He tries to look affronted, but he’s already touching her - stroking the outside of her thigh. His face is probably lit up with worship because he has desired this since he met her.

“I’m okay with this,” he emphasizes huskily. “I’m absolutely fine with fucking your body back together.”

He feels her jerk at that. Her eyes going shadowed and dark - tongue peeking over her lip as she takes hold of his shoulders. “Well…if you’re sure,” she purrs.“Then do it, Bucky.”

He does. He launches himself forward - hands cradling her jaw as his mouth crashes against hers in a frenzied sort of kiss. It’s barely a kiss - more of a fierce meeting of lips and tongue and teeth. Her nails are raking down his back as she presses herself flush against him.

“More,” she begs. “More.”

He hoists her onto the counter - her legs wrapped around his waist. He loses his sense as he rips her cotton shorts off to pieces - he teases her cunt with his fingers - spreading her folds open to graze that pert bud. She shoves his boxers down and he pushes in - filling her completely. She’s wet - impossibly tight - and each little rock of his hips makes her walls spasm around the length of his cock.

“Like that?” he asks, caressing her face - her arms - the curve of her tits. “Like that, sweetheart?”

She nods and when he gets a particularly rough thrust in, she gasps.

“Oh,” she mewls - soft as a secret - a hidden thing between them. “Oh - Buck - Bucky - oh-”

She looks stunned, quite frankly. She looks close to astonished at his stamina and his pace and his ability to make her convulse and cum within minutes. It leaves him smug - out of his damn head and he hadn’t felt out of his head in quite some time.

God he fucking likes it - he likes watching her face change - twisting into something desperate and overwhelmed. Her fingers digging painfully into his shoulders as she tilts her pelvis to meet him thrust for thrust.

They fall to the ground at some point and he braces his forearms on either side of her head so he can keep close - pressing his brow to hers. He fists his hand into the shag bath mat - his toes slipping on tile. He bends her legs - knees smushed into her chest as his hips snap against her. His cock spears deep - to the end of her and maybe farther - further.

“Fuck,” he grits. “Fuck - I wanted this - thought of nothing else.”

“You did?” she croons against his bearded jaw - his throat - teeth skating across the vein that pumps with each plunge of his length inside her silky heat. “I’m flattered.”

“It’s true,” he husks as he swirls his metal thumb over her swollen clit.

She grunts - pussy contracting around him - swallowing whatever reply she had for him.

He ducks his head to capture her mouth in a kiss both tender and furious. It’s heavy with all sorts of questions because - at the heart of this - Bucky knows he doesn’t want this to be a one-time thing.

Afterward - he holds her to his body - tracing the faint mark of that gash that has now sealed over.

“Wow,” he murmurs. “That’s pretty neat.”

She laughs.

***

They are kept apart. She has other missions and other teams that Bucky isn’t allowed to know about.

Bucky is ensnared - unable to think of anything, but the wet seal of her lips - the warm slide of her tongue - the salt-sweet tang of her cunt. He fists his cock in the shower - shoves his brow against the slippery tile as he dreams and fantasizes about their time together. He only gets her - the real her - in moments. A mission here. A mission there and Sam at least has the decency to not say shit when Bucky sneaks out to find her bed. He’d only commented on it once - the day after he’d first had sex with her in that squalid bathroom.

“You fucked her!” Sam accuses the moment Bucky slips back into their shared motel room.

“No,” Bucky says slowly. “I went out for a walk.”

“These walls are paper-thin, idiot,” Sam snaps. “I heard most of it.”

Bucky scowls. “She needed the energy.”

Sam chuckles. “I don’t care, man. You do you, but next time buy me earplugs so I don’t have to hear you waxing poetic about her pussy.”

It’s not enough. Bucky wants her for real - for keeps. He wants to take her out on a date or even a stupid walk in the park. Anything that isn’t lined in a film of black blood - in dirt or mud or gristle.

He asks Maria. He even asks Fury, which makes him extremely uncomfortable because Bucky did shoot him once.

“What can we do? How can we get her out of Belle Reve - get her off those task forces?”

Fury frowns. “You deal with Waller, who is probably one of the scariest people I’ve ever met.”

“I’m sure I can handle it.”

Fury squares him with a look that reads pity. “Trust me, Barnes. You can’t.”

***

It’s not like Rick really understands her past. He knows the bullet points - the detailed observations regarding her powers and her psyche and her body count. Her background is flimsy though and what he comes to realize is that she’d been passed through government agency to secret government agency to task force to underground organization.

She wiggles her fingers in front of his face. Her eyes the brightest shine of colored stones. “When you’ve got powers like these, Flag, you tend to get used.”

“I don’t want to use you,” he states - sincerely. “I don’t want to use you for that.”

“You have to,” she returns. “You have to because Waller says so.”

And then he had used her when it counted - when he had no other choice.

Her palm drags over the tear in his shirt - the dark red stain like an open-faced flower. She looks up at him and his breath catches - his chest still tight with phantom pain. “I did it for you. I’d do it again.”

She’d saved him in that rubble-strewn basement on Corto Maltese. She’d pressed her mouth to his and sucked his death right from him. She’d yanked the porcelain tile - ripped it clean - and his heart had patched over - his skin stitching itself back together as he gasped against her tongue.

She could give life, but at a cost.

It punched her out - yanked her energy and her strength until she was a sickly sort of spirit of herself. A cardboard cutout. He’d had to carry her out of Jotunheim because she could barely stand. Rick had been furious and she had silenced him with a brutal glare.

“I saved you because I wanted to,” she snaps. “I’ve done it for one other person. One. My abilities will come back. Don’t make me regret doing what I did because it was my choice.”

“I wasn’t - fuck - I didn’t mean it like that,” Rick shouts as he chases after her.

It ends as it always does. He lifts her into his arms and kisses her frantically. He fucks her like she wants it - pounds her pretty ass into the steel wall of the getaway jet’s hull. Her ankles hooked at his back - heels notched into his flesh as she whimpers and cries and repeats his name like he had been carved for reverence - like he deserved her. This holy girl who had saved him - brought him back to life.

“You have the tightest damn pussy, baby,” he grunts as he bottoms out again and again. He could say more. He could confess his stronger feelings - pull on those more intimate and serious strands, but he won’t. He sticks to dirty words - praise and prayer.

When he’s done, he falls to his knees and spreads her open - watches the milk-white drip of his spend out of that pretty little hole.

Later that night - he has her in his arms. She’s warm and real - snoring softly with her cheek sticking to his damp chest. It’s the most human she has ever looked.

He suddenly takes account of her earlier words - repeats them back to himself.

“I’ve done it for one other person. One.”

Wait - what other person?”

***

“You’re dying, you dumb motherfucker,” she squeaks as she tries to seal the five separate bullet wounds that are streaming red across Bucky’s shirt - his thigh. He knows they got an artery - maybe two.

He tries to laugh, but chokes - blood bubbling from his lips. “You kiss your mother with that mouth,” he taunts - but it comes out haggard - torn in multiple spots. His tongue grows thick and puffy and he desperately needs water. He reaches for her instead - touching her neck - pulling tenderly on a strand of hair.

“Ss-okay, doll,” he assures her. Doll - again. Another synapse in his brain firing white and hot and shooting upward from his internal filing cabinet of teenage memories. You make me feel young - you make me feel like i’m back home in Brooklyn and the world smells sweet - for once - tonight - i want to dance with you - i want to do something else - something more than this - you and me and us and i didn’t think i’d get that back -

“It’s not okay,” she hisses between clenched teeth. She’s palming his wounds - pushing into them and Bucky can’t feel himself anymore.

“Fuck this,” she mutters just as her gaze snaps to his. He almost flinches away at the intensity there - the earnest fierceness in her eyes. “You’re going to live, Barnes.”

She’s on him - hands clapping to either side of his face as she leans forward and kisses him.

She doesn’t kiss him though. It’s so much more than that - it’s overwhelming - packed with power and he can feel himself knitting back together - feel her tongue wash his mouth out and swallow the agony that is currently rippling through his system. It feels like he’s making out with a socket - feels like a power generator has burst behind his teeth. He clings to her wrists - tugging at them because he doesn’t understand.

“What are you doing?” he stammers against her parted lips.

“Saving you,” she replies - tears behind it. “Didn’t you read my file?”

***

Rick knew of Bucky Barnes. He’d seen him on enough A&E specials about the Howling Commandos. He had heard whispers throughout his unit about the Winter Soldier. Fuck - he knew that Waller practically salivated over the idea of having full control over a super-human assassin who would do anything she said.

But Waller doesn’t have the final say on this mission. Nick Fury does and Rick likes that. He likes Fury and when Fury asks him to join because Siren might need it, he does.

Even if Barnes is going.

It’s not like he’s upset at working with him. He’s not. But - it also doesn’t escape him that Bucky stares at her like she hangs the sun - the moon - the full blanket of stars.

You saved him, too?

Yes.

He wants to ask do you love him - do you like him - what does he mean to you? He doesn’t. It’s too intimate a question and yes Flag has slept with her but that doesn’t mean he owns her - controls her. All he knows is that she’s worked with Barnes for a long time and that she saved his life once - gave him something of herself by doing it.

Just like she had done for Rick.

It’s why I can’t just save anyone. I have to be careful. I don’t know how many lives I have in me. I don’t know if one more might take something truly vital.

You shouldn’t have wasted that on me.

You’re really kind of impossible.

***

Bucky hadn’t seen her in a year - maybe longer. Time works differently with him - he still isn’t entirely all there because his life is nothing, but missions to therapy to crashing on Sam’s couch because they stayed up too late playing scrabble and Grand Theft Auto. He hadn’t realized quite how much he had missed her. The hole she had left had been jagged and open - pulsing like it had been alive. But Bucky had many holes - many dark blank spaces inside him so it’s like the one her absence created had spread into all the rest. Just one blinking - poisonous - hole that he had yet to fix.

“Bucky,” she smiles as she strides toward him and it’s as if nothing has changed.

She allows him to pull her to him possessively - a momentary urge to hold her close and feel the hot brush of her breath at the divot in his throat. “Hey doll,” he murmurs as he noses at her hair.

“Buck,” she repeats - fingers curling into his t-shirt. “This is Rick.”

***

The mission is fine - it’s not easy, but it’s not the worst thing he’s had to handle. He doesn’t know why Fury called Flag and it’s not like he doesn’t like the guy.

He’s stupidly nice. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s a soldier - a Colonel - a guy who understands Bucky and Sam in ways that so many don’t.

He also is taller than him, which is...annoying.

He doesn’t know the specifics of their relationship. He just gathers that Rick leads the Task Force she’s part of. Task Force X.

“Otherwise - known as the Suicide Squad,” she chirps - winking at him.

Bucky blanches. “The what?”

“We have a super-high mortality rate,” she explains. “Basically Waller forces all of her disposable lackeys onto it to play bait or diversion.”

Rick shoots her an irritated glance. “You’re not disposable.”

There’s an exasperated fondness beneath his words - like he’s used to her bluntness - like he finds it endearing. It makes Bucky itch.

***

They’re neck-deep in AIM lackeys when Bucky starts to notice something.

She’s weaker. She’s missing punches - getting sloppy. It’s like she’s fighting through a haze - a fog of sorts.

She gets clocked - her head snapping backward as she hits the floor. Rick - visibly worried - gets there before he does so Bucky observes.

Flag yanks her up and she stumbles into him. She’s unsteady - like a doe on newborn legs and there’s a twitch in her fingers as she tries to realign herself. She’d missed that hit - gotten her ass completely handed to her. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t normal. Bucky knew her. He knew her inside and out and he knew exactly how she fought and how well.

He sidles up next to her once Flag chases another AIM guard down a corridor. He’s got her alone - has her close and yet it still feels like miles and miles away. He wraps his metal hand around her arm - tugs her roughly against his chest. “We need to talk.”

***

They’re in their hideout - a ramshackle cabin in the middle of trees and nowhere and long, black highways.

She comes to his room as he had asked. We need to talk. Sure, Buck.

“Where’s Flag?” He pulls off his tac vest - scraping his palm over his sweat-drenched under armour.

“Making our dinner in that sorry excuse for a kitchen.”

He nods as he rubs at his jaw - his beard prickles and burns.

“You saved him?”

She places her hands on her hips. “Yes?”

Bucky swallows as a prick of fear stings the nape of his neck. He tempers down the spike of jealousy because really? It’s kind of fucked to want to be the only man worth saving - at least when it comes to her. “What did it cost?”

She rolls her eyes, but it’s cheap and worn-thin. She’s trying hard to shove up that mask - that shield so he won’t dig any deeper. “I’m just a little weak.”

He snorts. “Weak? You were just taken out by a damn guard.”

She scowls.

“When did you save him?”

“What is this, Barnes? The fourth degree?”

“It’s the third degree.��

“Whatever.”

He steps toward her - his jaw clenching. “How long has it been?” he repeats. He knows he’s hit home because her shoulders fall - the fight burning out of her gaze - a snuffed star. She crosses her arms before turning away from him. Defensive as ever. “Six months,” she finally admits.

His nostrils flare - his heart leaping in the cage of his ribs. “You’ve been fighting for six fucking months on a half tank?”

Her lips quirk - the brief shine of wryness. “More like a third.”

His metal hand curls into a fist - tightening until it hurts. “You want to get yourself killed?”

“No.”

When she whirls back around to face him, her eyes are red and glassy. Bucky pauses. His anger slows before it’s watered down completely. She exhales - pulling her lower lip between her teeth as she tries to control her emotions. It’s a losing battle because her brows draw together and a sob cracks from her lips.

“Sweetheart...,” he breathes as the air changes. Her despair slamming into him with the strength of a freight train. He hates to see her cry.

It’s unsaid - it’s a silent understanding. Bucky opens his arms and she launches herself at him. She twists her fingers into his thin black shirt and tugs him close - as close as she can until they’re pressed together in the shadow-drenched bedroom.

He cradles the back of her head - savoring the warmth of her - the fever-hot softness of her body on his. Her hair smelling like gunshot and lavender. He had missed her. He had longed for her unconsciously - consciously - every hour of every day until it had bled into a simple feeling - an innate acceptance that he would always miss her and want her because he couldn’t have her completely.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers. “I don’t know why I’m crying. Fuck - I have no idea why I’m this sad.”

He kisses her temple as he strokes her back - slow and steady - anchoring her to him. “You’ve been through a lot.”

“I feel like something’s missing - taken - and I don’t know - don’t know what I’m doing. I can barely keep my senses together - my strength. It’s every day, Bucky. The fighting. I’m under Waller’s thumb and I can’t get out - I can’t.”

She’s not making the most sense, but Bucky lets her vent. He lets her push her face into his chest as her tears wet the fabric of his shirt.

“We can figure out Waller at another time, but...for now...I can help you with the weak part,” he suggests. “I can help you as I always have.”

“I-I’m trying not to do that.”

He pulls away to look at her. “Why?”

“It feels wrong,” she admits. “Using people like that to fix myself.”

“It’s not,” he says. “I’m consenting to this. I want this. I’m going in eyes wide open.”

The curve of her mouth twitches as she traces a pattern across his abdomen - moving steadily down as he encourages her with sugar-words. Honey. Baby. Darlin. Doll.

“Let me help you,” he begs as he presses a kiss to her brow. “Let me fuck you.” He leaves another on her cheek. “Let me worship you. I missed you. Let me taste that cunt.” He kisses her lips - his tongue darting past the seam and licking.

She shudders - curling into him. His hand is between her legs - thumb over her clit as he slides his fingers lower - probing them at the hot-velvet entrance before he slides them inside her. She gasps - clenching around his knuckles. He strokes deep - massages that fleshy interior - the spots he knows will get her to flood him.

“Wait,” she whispers and he stops immediately. “It - it would be better if - if Rick was here, too.” She ducks her head - thighs tightening around his hand.

He doesn’t want to be angry. He doesn’t.

“Why?”

“He’s the other part - the other man who has that piece of me. I gave it to him. It’ll - it’ll truly get me back to where I was.”

Bucky bites the inside of his mouth, but he understands.

“Well then go get him.”

***

She knows that asking Bucky for this is a lot. She knows that asking Rick for this is a lot. They barely know each other and yet she feels for both of them. She saved them and gave them herself as a result. It’s like she’s lost a rib - a lung - pink and red organs.

They go along with it - accept it - and she’s grateful.

She had fucked Rick after she’d saved him, but she had decidedly not taken his spirit - his energy. Too dangerous. Too close to his near-fatal event. She had waited and waited and it just didn’t feel right to steal from him.

He knew what she was.

She doesn’t quite think it’s love. She doesn’t know exactly what it is, but she does believe that it’s something worth keeping. It’s something worth exploring.

They move like the soldiers they are. Strategy to strength. They can’t break her. Not really.

“Harder,” she pleads as Rick moves in her - as his cock drives up into the clutch of her sex. Bucky’s metal fingers are firm around her throat - fingers wide as he keeps her locked in place.

He guides his dick inside her ass, lurching her into Rick. Her bare nipples drag across his pecs and he captures one in his mouth - teeth scraping over the sensitive flesh.

“That’s a good girl,” Bucky praises as he wedges himself through that tight ring of muscle - inch by inch. “Relax, sweetheart. Relax - let us take care of you.” His fingers are cold and unrelenting, but she does as he says.

Rick kisses her hard - his tongue heavy in her mouth as he twitches inside her. His hips snap up as Bucky draws back. Push and press and that’s fucking it - just like that - shit baby cum all over me.

She’s lost to it - climax crashing into the next as her pussy coils around his cock - as her ass burns and feels too full. Their strokes are deep and undulating and she thinks she might split apart. She’s overwhelmed - stretched taut as a bowstring. Bucky sinks his teeth into her throat and she shrieks.

She’s raw - a soft-torn nerve. She’s getting stronger though. The pleasure ripples through her core and builds back her losses - reforms those jagged edges that saving these two men had left.

I’d do it again. I’d do it every time.

She means that. They’re good men - well worth dying for. As they fuck her, hips rolling into her giving flesh with sharp thrusts, she loses her words. She’s out of them.

Bucky’s breath fans across her cheek. Rick’s kiss burns her jaw.

It doesn’t take much longer for them to finish. She bottles up tight and rips their orgasms from them.

Bucky lifts her clear off Rick and tosses her on the bed - he slides down her body - tongue laving over the surface of her belly - her mound before he hits home with the swollen lips of her cunt. He noses at her clit - her folds - and it makes her quiver at the primal urgency sweeping through his bones. He continues - metal fingers tangling with hers as he sinks his tongue into the mess of her sex. She’s still dripping with Rick, but Bucky doesn’t seem to care. He spreads the hood of her pussy so he can access her overworked clit - suckling and lapping like a man possessed.

Rick grips her chin and kisses her soundly. She’s on fire - scorched earth and virulent chemicals and oh - fuck - right there -

She comes apart on Bucky’s tongue - knees crashing together over his head. She yanks at his long hair - pelvis knocking up into his face in want want - please -

“Fuck baby,” he muses. “Got me all wet.”

He returns to her mouth - his tongue drenched in the three of them. It tastes like salt and flesh and sweat and spit. Earthy and sure. It’s too good - gets her high. She doesn’t want it to end and she can't let it fade. They're a part of her now - they're screwed in tight.

[babyloposts]

New BakuBaby

(Ughhh I love this anime. Any excuse to use my baby Kotaro I’m gonna take)

Dilf!Bakugou x poc!fem!reader

—————————————————

You and Katsuki knew better than to let lil mama get comfortable, but that’s exactly what you did. 5 years of blissful marriage with your little girl (that wasn’t so little anymore) and you felt that now was a good time to start over and have another. Katsuki wasn’t opposed to the idea he was more worried about how your daughter would react. She had already gone 13 years being an only child and she was spoiled rotten. Neither of you had any idea how she would react.

But one late night, coming home 2 bottles of wine deep after a date, the protests of your teenager were the last of yours and Katsuki’s worries. Plus you just so conveniently stopped taking your birth control about a month ago, so the timing was perfect.

Katsuki must have had some Olympic swimmers even after all these years because it only took one try before you were missing your period and waking up with morning sickness. Your husband was surprised, nervous, excited, and ecstatic all rolled into one. He forgot what it was like to have a new born and he was so happy that he would be experiencing all the highs and lows of pregnancy with the love of his life.

You waited well after your first trimester to announce your pregnancy to people and the first on the list was the most nerve-wracking, your daughter. You and Katsuki sat her down on the couch together and presented her with a small Polaroid. It took her all of a second to realize what was going on.

“We’ll it took you long enough.” She chuckled. Katsuki’s nose and brows scrunched at his baby girl’s reaction. He was expecting a full blown meltdown but it seemed she was being mature? “It would have been nice for us to not have such a big age gap, I mean 13 years? I’m practically gonna raise the baby myself.” Well nice to know one thing hasn’t changed. She still had no type of filter.

“You’re happy, then?” You asked hope practically radiating from your skin.

“Yeah, of course I am! I pretty much figured it out a month ago, though.”

“Wha- you did?” Katsuki questioned.

“Duh. All the signs were there. Morning sickness, the glow, plus Mom’s boobs have gotten bigger.”

Yep, no filter.

All your friends and family were super excited and supportive about you being pregnant and your pregnancy wasn’t that bad. At least, your first trimester wasn’t that bad. You didn’t start getting big until you were six months in and that’s when pregnancy, with all of its cravings, aches and mood swings, hit you with full force.

Katsuki, of course was super protective over you. Basically waiting on you hand and foot throughout your third trimester. He’d give you massages on your back and swollen feet, hold your baby bump up for you, run your baths, make late night trips to the store and whatever fast food you were craving (even if he would act like it was a burden to him, he wanted to go out for you). He was perfect, albeit a little over protective, especially when his friends came to visit you.

“Stop crowding her, and leave my kid alone! They’re kicking cuz they want your hands off of his home.”

“Y/N, is he always like this?” Mina giggled.

“Yeah even with his mother. He’s such a helicopter parent, and husband.” You laughed rubbing your bump with care.

“No I am not!”

Katsuki was so cute. He was just happy to be experiencing everything with you since he wasn’t around the first time. Even with Hero work you and his family came first, always.

The day finally came to push that big headed baby out of your cooch and you don’t know who was more annoying in the delivery room. Katsuki who was freaking the fuck out the entire time, his mother who was yelling at him to calm down because he was getting you worked up, or your daughter who was giving you a full play by play of what the doctor was seeing down there as you pushed. If it weren’t for your own mother being there, holding your hand, to keep you sane you might have kicked them all out and birthed the baby alone.

Once your daughter announced that the head was coming out Katsuki went into dutiful husband mode holding your other hand and telling you to keep breathing. A few insults were hurled at Katsuki for putting you in this pain, but he knew you didn’t mean it and it would all be worth it in the end.

And finally your son was in your arms and the mixture of your cries with his were filling the room.

Soon you settled into your new life of sleepless nights and living only to serve your little parasite precious baby. Katsuki somewhat knew what he was doing. He got full custody of your daughter when she was four months so he knew the basic needs that was required for a new born. He just couldn’t comprehend how cute and tiny he was.

No amount of cuteness can make up for all the screaming this baby did, however. Katsuki wasn’t used to fussy babies. When your daughter was small she would have her tantrums and meltdowns, but it seemed your son just cried for no reason. He wouldn’t want to feed, he had a clean diaper, and if Katsuki rocked him he wouldn’t go to sleep. The only thing that would calm him down was his mommy. And his sister surprisingly.

“How come he shuts up when you hold him.” Katsuki would pout after handing the baby off to you to cuddle in bed.

“Because he’s a mommy’s boy. Plus I’m prettier than you.”

“This is my woman son. You can’t have her.” Katsuki would pinch the little chub on your son’s cheek, causing him to stop feeding to look up at him with the stankest face he could muster.

“Aww look Katsu~ Baby’s first mean mug.”

A/N: I am so in love with this blended family head cannon. I think I’ll make another part showing the dynamic between the kids because something about older girls having younger sibling that they treat like their own baby. Ughhh it’s too cute I can’t 😩 anyways I hope you enjoyed this continuation (also I should probably name the kids… I’ll think abt it. Suggestions welcome :))

Original Post

[seo-talks]

⋮ ⋮ Crush !! - Chapter 2 ︴i think i saw an angel… ︴word count : 1.1k (please read the notes at the bottom!)

Synopsis ︴right when you debut in HYBE’s newest girl group, you instantly attracted a certain boy group member. the only problem is….your brother is also under HBYE.

(written part below)

as you left the HBYE cafeteria with yeonjun trailing behind, you began to chat about various topics ranging from debuting to missing home. both choi siblings have known what it’s like to be away from home so they relied on each other a lot and enjoyed spending time together. which explains why today, he treated you to lunch and bought the coffee your fellow members so desperately wanted.

“thank you for buying lunch” you mentioned standing right outside the doors of the cafeteria. “the girls will love these too” you laughed bringing up the carrier with 4 coffee cups placed inside.

“no problem, it’s my job as your big brother to make you don’t die, which means feeding you”

you can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh at his statement. he’s always been great at taking care of you since a young age, so it’s no surprise having this occur regularly. as you tried to walk away to make it to practice at a reasonable time yeonjun wanted to keep you back to talk more, constantly bringing up more things.

“as much as i love talking to you i need to go to practice, unless you want to deal with karina when i’m super late”

“no thank youuu, she’s scary when she’s mad” yeonjun said shaking his head. “but okok go leave! do well! drink water! don’t work too hard!!”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes and add a sarcastic ‘yes mom’ in his direction as you started down the hall to your very own practice room. as you neared the side of the large building that held the practice room Melody was assigned to at debut you took out your own coffee to take a drink from. as you went to take a sip you felt your body collide with another. standing in shock for a minute you didn’t say a word and neither did the stranger, as you could only stare at the large coffee stain already ruining this strangers white shirt. slowly looking up to see who the body belonged to, your eyes widened drastically.

“oh my gosh! i am so sorry sunbae! i should look more carefully where i’m walking my god i am so so sorry!!” you exclaimed bowing to the man in front of you while also looking for a place with any sort of towel to help clean his shirt.

finding a bathroom near by, you excused yourself and ran to it only to come out with an excess amount of paper towels. the man let out a laugh seeing this, in fact he’s been in shock since you ran into him, not being able to properly talk after seeing who you were. he couldn’t believe he ran into you, out of all the people in the large HYBE building, he ran into you. the very girl he claimed he didn’t like, his junior who had just debuted, the girl who is friends with his own member. he simply couldn’t believe it.

“i am seriously so sorry” you continued to say as you handed him the stack of towels and even started to pat his shirt dry yourself not wanting to see the nice white shirt stain further with the coffee. “can i make it up to you? i can buy you a new shirt or even just pay for dry cleaning?”

finally coming to his senses he managed to look away from you shaking his head. “ah no no! it’s okay really! i didn’t like this shirt anyways..”

you looked at him still not convinced that this was okay “no seriously i want to! i feel so bad and you’re my sunbae….it only makes sense that i do this!”

he continued to shake his head at you trying to explain that it was okay and he was fine. you didn’t believe him but decided to drop the topic and throw away the now damp towels you held from trying to dry the coffee off the shirt. as you made your way back to where the two of you were previously standing in the hall you had realized you hadn’t introduced yourself you immediately bowed and began to tell him who you were.

“i’m yn from Melody! i forgot to mention that earlier” you laughed feeling shy all the sudden. it wasn’t everyday you got to see your seniors just in the hallways on the building, especially near your practice room.

the man laughed softly and bowed back to you. “i’m jake, from enhypen”

your eyes widened once again at this information. you knew you recognized him from somewhere other than just seeing him around the building. he was sunoo’s member, your own friends member, and this how you met. you can’t help but cringe slightly already knowing the boy himself will hear about this and tease you endlessly. as you opened your mouth to say something more to jake you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. pulling it out you noticed the texts coming in from karina telling you to hurry.

“ah…i’d love to stay and talk more but i better get going to practice unless i want my leader to chew my head off”

“no that’s ok! uh have a good practice”

you nodded and waved at jake before practically running down the hall to your destination. what you missed though, was jake standing in the same spot watching you leave with a smile threatening to take over his entire face. “wow….” he sighed placing a hand over his heart that was beating abnormally fast and used his other to pull out his phone to text his members.

making your way into the practice room the girls immediately surrounded you grabbing their respective coffees they had asked for.

“wait…..only 3? you didn’t get one yn?” minju asked as she counted the coffees in your hand

“welllll i did get one for myself but…there was a bit of an accident on the way here”

“what do you mean ‘accident’” karina asked eyeing you as she sipped from her drink

“i may have ran into jake sunbae and spilt my drink on him” you shrugged casually like it was a normal occurrence

yujin couldn’t help but laugh loudly at this as she pictured the situation. “wait wait you split coffee all over jake, from enhypen, our senior, sunoos member??”

you rolled your eyes and lightly pushed her as you also laughed at the thought. “yes yes i did! whatever let’s practice okay?” you said walking to the middle of the floor, the others following suit laughing at your antics.

Notes ︴andddd here’s jakyn’s first ever encounter!! not the most ideal way to meet someone but hey, it worked and got jake smitten over yn, so it’s a win in his book! and yes, yeonjun gives off ‘mom’ vibes when it comes to yn…he’s just worried!! what a great big brother sigh

small update on melody, they all have their own representative animals now! they are all different dogs as they are all very outgoing and energetic! it felt fitting and thank you to @yeowooya for helping me with this!

Yn: 🐕

Karina: 🐕‍🦺

Minju : 🐩

Yujin : 🦮

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taglist (OPEN) : @enhacolor @msxflower @maeumiluv @n-eetune @itsjynop

[itsallyscorner]

hey. can u do part 2 to the’ Being a High School Student on A Marvel Set’? :)

💌

Period Buddies

Pairing: platonic!Sebastian Stan x teen!reader, platonic!Anthony Mackie x teen!reader

Summary: I’m currently on my period so I wrote this to help me cope:) Basically Anthony and Seb being the biggest and supportive guys to you during your period:)

Warnings: Umm not much, some mentions of blood and periods.

Hello my love!💞 Thank you for the request! I was actually planning on making another ‘High School student’ fic with the Marvel cast, so I decided to use that idea for this request! I hope you like it🥰 Also sorry I haven’t uploaded a fic in a while; I was lacking motivation to write and school was pretty hectic😭 Thank you for your patience my loves x

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

fluturaș - little butterfly

✧───── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧

You were laid out along your couch in your trailer, a fluffy Sherpa blanket wrapped around you and your head resting atop two soft pillows. You were laid on your stomach, the pressure of the couch slightly helping with the stinging pain in your lower abdomen. Your geography teacher was teaching via Zoom, though your laptop was on the coffee table that was inches away from you; knowing you weren’t feeling your best, you’ve decided to stay on the couch for school and moved the table closer to the couch so everything was within your reach. You had been lazily taking notes—or attempting to with the remaining energy you could muster up.

You had been surprised by the devil himself when you woke up earlier today at around six in the morning. You knew your monthly was coming; with the constant cravings, body aches, and the newly developed pimple gracing your face, your period was around the corner. And you were right, a dark red stain was splotched onto your white floral bedsheets when you woke up today. What a way to start the morning.

Yes, no woman ever felt their best during their period. You were always bloated, hungry, and blood was constantly flowing out of you, yet you were still expected to show up to both work and school. Not to mention, the pain you were currently enduring was making it really difficult for you to to focus on anything. Your teacher’s voice seemed to fade into the background as your body was blinded with the stabbing pain in your lower abdomen. You may have been overreacting, but everything just hurt.

Geography was your midway class, meaning that you were halfway through your school day. Which also meant that you were soon to be called to set. You had a lunch break and some time to do your homework, but either way you still had to get to set. Usually you’d be antsy to get the school day over with, practically buzzing to get to get into your costume and do some stunts with your two favorite guys on set. Although today was different, the thought of heading to set and being active felt dreadful. You just wanted to curl up into a ball, snuggle into your Sherpa blanket, and take a well deserved nap.

Your teacher’s voice was interrupted by a knock on your door. Already knowing who it was, you let out a faint “come in” to the two men outside your trailer. A second passes before your trailer’s door slowly opens and Anthony’s head pops from behind it. His sparkling yet dark brown eyes and toothy grin etched onto his friendly features. Sebastian pops up behind him, an equally wide smile on his face as he wiggled a white take away box in the air.

“What’s up buttercup.” They cheerfully greet you.

Though both of the men’s smiles drop once they see you bundled up on the couch. Anthony fully enters your trailer, Sebastian following suit. Approaching your little set up, Anthony glances at your laptop.

“Isn’t your camera on? Did your teacher allow you to attend school like this?” He asks you. He knew you were a responsible kid and had no troubles keeping up with your education. But that’s the thing, you were still a kid. Having kids of his own, he knew how unmotivated children can get in the middle of the school year and the laziness that came along with it. Seeing you lounging on the couch while your teacher was lecturing was just a bit concerning for him.

You stiffly nod, “My camera’s off. I just don’t feel good.”

The last sentence catches both of the grown men’s attention. Sebastian rounds the corner of the coffee table and hovers over you, observing your face. He softly places the back of his hand onto your forehead, checking for any alarming warmth.

“You’re a bit warm, but it’s probably because of the blanket.” He mutters, choosing to sit on the arm rest of the couch. “You alright, fluturaș?” He looks down at you in concern, lips tilting down into a small frown.

Anthony had settled beside your feet, one of his arms using your ankles as an arm rest. Strangely enough his arm brought you comfort instead of adding to the ache in your legs.

“I’m just—I’m on my period.” You mumbled in response. You wait for the awkward tension to build but it never came. You glance at the two men and see the realization settle in them.

“And I have really bad cramps at the moment, that it’s just hard to do anything. So I decided to stay on the couch today.” You explain with a slight shrug. They didn’t understand the pain you were going through, but they understood what you meant. While the both of them had female friends and what not, they were somewhat aware of what you were going through.

Anthony claps his hands to his thighs, “Alright, it’s ok to give yourself some rest. You just relax and listen to whatever your teacher’s going on about.” He motions to your laptop and continues, “Is there anything we can do to help you?”

While taking down notes, you momentarily glance at them, “No it’s fine, you guys already brought me food. Thanks, by the way.”

They didn’t want to leave you alone, you were clearly not feeling well and they both wanted to do something. They couldn’t do anything about the pain from your menstrual cycle, but they can help distract you from the pain.

“No, we’re gonna help you. Have you eaten ever since breakfast? I’ll spoon feed you if I have to.” Sebastian insists. You thought he was joking, but when you looked at his face he was serious.

“I had a brownie—wait, aren’t you guys supposed to be filming?” You question the both of them.

“Something went wrong on set so now we have a few hours or something till they figure it out.” Anthony answers, scrolling through his phone. He abruptly stands up to his feet and heads towards the door. You and Seb send him a questioning look.

“I’ll be back.” With that he pulls your door open and jogs out, leaving you and Sebastian in your trailer. You decide to tune back into your class, resuming to take down notes from the slides your teacher shared. Suddenly, a large hand gets in the way of your notebook.

“Gimme that.” Sebastian takes the pencil and notebook from you, placing them on his lap and staring at your screen. His eyes scan the PowerPoint, looking for the part you left off on. He hums when he finds it and began to write the notes himself.

“What are you doing?” You raise a brow at him, scanning his appearance. He was dressed in Bucky’s clothes, minus the black and gold ‘metal’ arm. He was still sat on the arm rest, slightly slouching so he could bend down to use his lap as a table.

“I’m doing your notes for you.” He answers nonchalantly. He motions to the white take away box on your coffee table, “Eat your lunch, I got this.”

You hesitate to sit up, feeling bad that Sebastian was doing your notes. Though, he did insist on doing it and you weren’t feeling your best. After an internal argument with yourself, you decided to let it slide and let Sebastian do your notes. Besides, he looked like he was enjoying taking notes on agriculture regions and the different types of farming.

“Are you sure, Seb?” You ask him again, slowly sitting up on the couch. He responds with a distracted ‘mhm’, his eyes focused on your notebook and his tongue sticking out in concentration. You quietly thank him and get up to use the bathroom.

While you were gone doing your business, Anthony had entered your trailer again. This time he had a plate full of brownies, a medium sized cup of ice cream from the vending machine, and one of those red hot water bottles in his arms.

“Where’s the kid?” He balances the things in his arms while carefully placing the plate of brownies onto your coffee table. Anthony locates your mini fridge and stores the ice cream in the freezer.

“Bathroom.” Sebastian acknowledged, still focused on writing the notes correctly in your notebook. He made sure to write neatly and copy the way you organized your notes. Saving you the hassle of missing out on important parts of the lesson and from decoding his personally sloppy writing.

Anthony empties his pockets to reveal more of your favorite snacks from crafties and the vending machine. “So...what are you doing?”

“I’m in geography class.” Anthony snorts at his friend before taking a look at your laptop screen, “And what are y’all learning in geography class?”

“Pastoral nomadism.” Seb bluntly answers. With his arms now free of the items he brought, Anthony decided to tidy up your couch. He folded your blanket neatly, fluffed your pillows, and made space for Seb to actually sit on the couch.

“What the hell is pastoral nomadism?” Anthony thought out loud.

“It’s when people travel from place to place with domesticated animals. It’s usually practiced in dry land climates.” Sebastian explains, eyes never faltering from the screen or your notebook. Anthony let’s out a sound of approval at Seb’s explanation. When he was done cleaning up your couch, he took the white take away box and headed to your kitchen. Emptying the contents of the container onto one of your plates, heating the food up for you.

You walk into the kitchen section of your trailer, shutting the bathroom door behind you. A delicious aroma lingers in the air, your nose picks up on the smell, sending it straight to your stomach. In response, your stomach lets out a low growl, making Anthony snicker at you.

“I’m heating up the food.” Anthony mentions as you pass by him. You thank him with a small smile as he gently nudges his shoulder against yours.

“Want me to make tea or something? I heard it helps reduce the cramps.” You raise a brow at him amusingly, “Where’d you hear that?”

“I read it on Google. You know, research, gotta make sure our girl’s comfortable.” He proudly tells you. Your heart warms at the fact that both him and Seb were willingly helping you while you were in pain. The microwave dings catching both yours and Anthony’s attention.

As he gingerly takes the plate out he asks you, “You wanna eat at the table or the couch.”

“The couch, I still wanna listen in on the lesson.” For a moment you forgot that you were supposed to still be at school, taking notes, and listening to your teacher teach the lesson. You enter the living room and sit next to Seb, who’s hand was digging into your pencil case.

“Want me to take over?”

“Nah, I got it, I’m too invested to stop. Which one?” He held up three of your highlighters, one was light blue, another was a peachy pink, and the other was a typical yellow highlighter. You grin, picking the peachy pink one. He tosses the other two back into your pencil case and uncaps the highlighter. While your teacher wraps up class, he began to highlight the new terms from today’s class.

“Here ya go.” Anthony sang; grabbing a pillow, placing it onto your lap, and carefully setting the plate of chicken teriyaki fried rice on top of it. You happily thank him and began to dig in. He slumps onto the couch beside you, “Tell me if you need anything else. I’ve got ice cream in the freezer, brownies, a hot water bottle, and a whole box of tea.” He throws his arm around your shoulder, letting it rest against the back of the couch.

You pause your eating, pouting at the two men beside you, “You guys really don’t have to do this. But I appreciate it so much, thank you.”

Seb looks at you over his shoulder, sending you a sweet smile, “Anything to make you happy, fluturaș.”

Anthony squeezes your shoulder, “Anytime munchkin, starting today till you’re not a ketchup packet anymore, Seb and I’ll be your period buddies.”

You snort shaking your head at him, “Again, I appreciate it Ant, but please don’t call yourselves period buddies.”

“What’s wrong with period buddies? You’re on your period and we’re all a bunch of buddies. It makes perfect sense!” Anthony reasoned defensively. Seb looks at the both of you over his shoulder again, “I like period buddies.”

“See! Thank you.” You playfully rolled your eyes at the two. “Fine, period buddies it is.”

Your geography teacher wraps the lesson up and ends the Zoom call. Seb shuts your notebook and puts it to the side. Clapping his hands, he asks you, “Alright, what class do we have next?”

“Calculus.” You smirk, followed by the groans of Anthony and Sebastian filling your trailer.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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[havin-a-wee]

If Only She Knew

pairing: dad!harry x cheerleader!reader

word count: 4.2k

warnings: smut (fingering + unprotected sex), cheerleading position implies readers weight, 20 year age gap

hi! ive been having some really bad writers block but i wrote this and even though its def not my best work i like it enough to post it :) also, i totally didn't mean to imply the readers weight, i only realized afterwards, so im really sorry about that. also the age gap is kinda big, so if ur uncomfy with that you shouldn't read this <3

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY

“Geez watch where you’re going!”

You don’t even look up at the girl, recognizing her nasally voice easily from how annoying it is. You were nose deep in a book while walking down the school hallway, and of course your worst enemy had to be walking down the same hallway, at the same time, in the opposite direction. You are both at fault for the collision, considering Ella had her eyes locked on her instagram feed. But knowing the girl, there is no way in hell that she will take any responsibility, even though you are the one who has coffee dripping down the front of your white blouse.

Since middle school, Ella Styles has always hated you. You have never known why, but she seems to have a vendetta against you, and tries her best to make your life miserable. You never let her, always refraining from giving her the explosive reaction that she was looking for. And that makes her hate you even more.

High school is over in 2 months, and although you are going to miss the freedom of being a child, you most definitely won’t miss the people from the tiny town you’ve lived in since you were young. You’ve always been the type of person to have a small friend group, only 4 people in your circle. But that’s how you like it, because crippling social anxiety makes it difficult for you to meet new people.

“I- sorry.” You still don’t look at her, instead peeling the soaking wet top off of your stomach.

“You better be sorry.” She flips her blonde hair, ensuring that the fluffy locks hit you right in the face. You are lucky this time seeing as she didn’t take it further, because sometimes she would purposely embarrass you after small incidents such as this one.

Tears well at your waterline and you run into the nearest bathroom, pushing open the blue door and locking yourself in a stall.

After all these years of torment, Ella rarely was able to get to you. But sometimes, she does something that pushes you off the edge, leaving you with red, tear-stained cheeks. The final straw this time was her ruining your brand new shirt, the one you were anxiously waiting to debut at school.

But now there was coffee dripping down your chest and staining the bright white fabric. Your only saving grace is the cheerleading uniform in your backpack. In fact, you were walking to the locker room to change for practice, and then for the game at 6 tonight.

You had been excited for the game, knowing that Friday night games always led to parties and fun afterwards. You rarely go to parties of course, but the buzzing energy never fails to rub off on you. But now that stupid Ella had to go and mess up your day, you’re dreading seeing her smug face while she asserts her dominance as cheer captain.

You untie your top and rip it off in a haste, frustrated tears running down your face periodically. You could’ve put a jacket on and gone to the locker room, but Ella would be going there soon, and the last thing you want to do is run into her with teary eyes. She can’t know that you let her get to you.

You brush your hands down your uniform, pulling down the skimpy costume and stuffing your old clothes in your backpack. Once out of the stall, you pull your hair up into a high ponytail, reapply your lip gloss and walk back into the hallway, having already done your makeup that morning. You’re happy that it’s a home game today, because the home game uniforms are two pieces and the skirts are smaller than the ones on the away game uniforms. There is a certain someone you are looking to impress, and the way your tits spill out from the top of the outfit will most certainly help you in your mission.

It’s not like you need to impress him, because he’s shown time and time again that he finds you sexy no matter what you wear. And when he doesn’t tell you, he shows you, by pressing his hard on up against your ass after you just woke up, despite your messy hair and bare face.

However, he also loves when you tease him. And that’s exactly what you’re planning to do.

You sling your heavy backpack over one shoulder and trudge down the hallway, the old fluorescent lights practically blinding you on your journey. The locker room is dingy, smelling of cheap soap and Victoria’s Secret perfume. At least it doesn’t smell like the boys locker room, which smells like sweat and more sweat.

It's already bustling with people, your teammates scrambling to get ready in time as to not get yelled at by the coach.

“Y/N!” The familiar shout of your best friend Rose is like a breath of fresh air, and you bound over to her. She’s standing in front of your lockers, the two of you obviously picking ones next to each other. “Wait, why are you already changed?”

“The bitch spilled her coffee all over me,” you grumbled, your eyes shifting over to where Ella and her little goons are giggling.

“I keep telling you, anytime you want me to beat her up I will gladly do it.”

“Not that I doubt your abilities Rose, because I know you would have her on the ground in a heartbeat, but I can’t let you do that. She can’t know that she upsets me.” You lower your voice for the second sentence, irrationally fearing that she can hear you over the loud chatter echoing through the room.

“I still think you should let me beat her up, but you do you I guess.” Rose shrugged her shoulders and turned back to her locker, bursting out into laughter with you after a beat of silence.

The rest of the getting ready process goes smoothly, Rose distracting you from the girl side-eyeing you in the corner. Soon enough, the whole squad was in formation outside, and you have your hands on the shoulders of Rose and another girl named Bethany. You are a flyer, meaning that you’re the one who the bases support while you pose and flip in the air. Its a hard job, but you are one of only three girls on the team who is advanced enough at flying to be safe doing it in routines. One of the other three girls is Ella.

Ella is the flyer for the middle group, seeing as she is the captain. You are on the right and the other group is on the left. Luckily, Rose is a base in your group, so you feel a lot better putting your safety in the hands of someone you already trust with your life.

“ELLA! YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!” Coach Habbiths voice is piercing, her angry shrieks bouncing off your ear drums. Ella audibly huffs, displaying her frustration with the critiques she has been receiving since we learned the routine weeks ago. That’s one of the biggest problems with Ella, she believes that she's always right.

Every single practice she has done a needle instead of a scale at the end of the routine. It's aggravating for everyone, and that frustration is amplified everytime she makes the same mistake over and over. “Alright, everyone down. group 1 and group 3 take five, Ella and group 2 stay on the field.

The team obliged to her instructions, and you are brought down from the air.

“Okay Ella, I want you to watch how Y/N does the last move, because she’s actually doing it correctly.” Coach is standing in front of you now, and she emphasized the word ‘correctly’. This is much to Ella’s dismay, and much to your excitement.

Nothing brings you more joy than seeing Ella’s face when you one up her, and this time is no exception.

Aside from a few eye rolls and nasty looks, Ella corrects the move without much fuss. By now there's 15 minutes until the game, and the players have been warming up on the field for about half an hour.

“Did you see her face!” Rose tugs on your arm while you walk back to the locker room, water bottles in hand.

“I know! I should’ve taken a picture!”

“We can only hope that it knocked her ego down a peg.”

“I doubt it” Rose nodded in agreement and you continued your chatter, talking about the random things that best friends talk about.

“It’s go time ladies!” You jumped in surprise when Coach Habbiths yelling booms through the locker room, the hefty amount of metal in the room enhancing the echo.

In a blur, your entire team rushed out onto the field, the crisp air cooling your warmed skin. There was a huge crowd. probably the biggest the teams ever had. But that makes sense, because this game was against your school's biggest rival. Luckily, despite the huge crowd you were able to lock eyes with those piercing green irises you have gotten to know so well over the past couple months. Everytime you see him he gets more and more attractive, and this time is no exception.

At this point, the teams routine is muscle memory and you’re done with it before you can blink. Most people would think that being thrown in the air is memorable, but your main concern is the growing wet patch on your panties that spreads each time you squeeze your thighs together. Just the thought of the man is enough to turn you on, and now that you’re sitting on the cold metal bench your imagination has time to go wild.

The only thing that snapped you out of your daze was the eruption of appaulause from the audience, and the realization that the other cheerleaders were standing up and running towards the players. You breath out a sigh of relief, recognizing the cheering as a signal that the game has ended.

“Hey, you coming?” Rose tugs on your arm, looking down at you still on the bench.

“Um, actually I don’t feel so well, I think I’m going to go home.”

“I should’ve known. You know, one day you’re going to have to go to a party.” Rose places her hands on her hips, giving you a sarcastically annoyed stare.

“And today is not that day.” You grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, turning back to Rose for a second. “Have fun and be safe.”

“I always do.” Rose places a chaste kiss on your cheek before turning back to the gathering crowd on the turf.

Instead of heading to the sidewalk and walking home, you duck under the bleachers and walk down the gravel path, pushing open the fence that separates the field and the school. The contents of your backpack slosh around while you sway your hips as you walk. Finally, you make it to the back wall of the school, leaning your back against it and plopping your heavy backpack down by your feet.

And now you wait.

Much to your convenience, the wait this time isn’t long, only five minutes passing before you see the familiar man following the same path you did earlier.

He has a pair of brown slacks on, pressing against his waist courtesy of his black belt. A button up white shirt hides the tattoos on his stomach, but he's rolling up his sleeves as he walks over to you. He's walking with intention, hungry eyes zeroed in on you.

When he’s only steps away, you cheekily bite your lip and use your finger to push up your skirt a little bit more.

Your actions have the intended effect, his eyes blowing wide and hands grasping at your waist.

“Y’can’t do that.”

Before you have a chance to ask what he means, his lips collide with yours, his tongue slipping in only moments after the initial kiss. But as soon as he started, he pulls away.

“Y’can’t be teasing me on the field like tha’, had me hard next t’my friends.” His hand is on the wall above your head, and his other arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest. He’s panting, and you are too.

“Sorry Mr. Styles,” you push your bottom lip out in a pout, giving him the most innocent look possible. “Just wanted to wear it cause I know how much you like it.”

“Aw, my babygirl wore this f’me? Well I guess y’can be forgiven. Now let’s get t’my house before I fuck yeh right on this wall.” He places a soft kiss to your lips picking up your backpack from the floor and turning to the direction of his car.

“But it hurts!” He turns around again, giving you a sympathetic look and caressing your cheek. The rings on his fingers are cold, but you’re used to the feeling.

“I know sweet girl, but I can’t take care of yeh here, s’too risky.” He pauses for a moment, thinking of a solution to your not so little problem. “How bout I give y’my fingers in the car? Hows that sound hm?” You nod eagerly, pulling his hand down from your cheek and holding it. He takes the signal and begins walking to his car while you follow him.

You never planned to sleep with your bullies dad. But a few months ago your parents dragged you to a family friends housewarming party, and that friend happened to be a friend of Harry’s too. There were no other teenagers there, so your focus was on the attractive older man who had been checking you out since you first locked eyes, and after ending up in the upstairs bathroom together the two of you have been fucking at least twice a week. You only learned that he’s a dad when you saw him for the first time outside the party. He didn’t look the part, and you actually thought he was in his 20s until he corrected you. He’s 38, having become a parent at only 20 years old. Your relationship is a bit taboo, but you’re a mature 18 year old and you and Harry get along well. So well that your time together has developed from casual sex to a mutually exclusive relationship. (Neither of you like labels, but you’re basically boyfriend and girlfriend).

He makes you really happy, and when you have to face off against Ella, it helps knowing that you have power over her, even though she doesn’t know it.

“Did she do anything today?” Harry is walking beside you, hands still intertwined.

“Besides spilling coffee on my shirt, nothing much.” Harry sighs in frustration and squeezes your hand as a show of affection.

“M’so sorry, I wish y’didn’t ‘ave to deal with her.”

The thing about Harry and Ella is they can barely be considered family. Ella’s mom is, for lack of a better word, a bitch. She’s snobby, conceited, and rude, and those behaviors have rubbed off on Ella. Another thing that rubbed off on her was her mom’s hatred for Harry. Being young parents put strain on their already struggling relationship, and they split before Ella’s first birthday. Harry said he tried his best to make it work for Ella’s sake, but her mom was looking for someone to pay for her life, and Harry had just started working his way up as a businessman.

Now, he’s a CEO, but luckily Ella’s mom already found a new beau with plenty of money, so she didn’t come crawling back to him. However, the success Harry achieved only a few years after their breakup made her jealous, and so she instilled that anger in their daughter. So currently Ella spends most of her time with her mother, and when she is with Harry she doesn’t treat him kindly.

“It’s not your fault Harry, you don’t have to apologize for her actions.”

“I know, I jus’ hate tha’ she treats yeh like that.” He sighs again, reaching into his pocket to grab his keys. In a few more steps you’re standing outside the sleek black suv, walking around to the passenger seat and sliding in once you hear the click of the door unlocking.

You both take a few seconds to breathe, an unspoken gesture to prepare for the night's events. Harry turns to you, a sexy smirk plastered on his face. “What d’ya think about fixin’ that ache darlin?” You nod eagerly, sliding down a bit in your seat to give your legs room to spread. “Think yeh can take off y’skirt fo’me?” Your head bobs once again as you nod, hooking your fingers under the elastic waistband and shimmying out of the skirt. While you’re doing that, Harry turns the car into the deserted street, using only one hand to steer.

You toss the tiny skirt into his lap, giving him a signal without distracting his eyes from the road. He reacts immediately, his free hand coming down to squeeze your thigh. You mewl at the contact and bite down on your lip, trying to stop your hips from bucking up in search of relief. His squeezes move up your thigh, and finally his fingers press against your weeping cunt. Swiftly, he pushes your soiled panties to the side, swiping his fingers up your folds collecting your juices. You shriek and buck your hips up into his hand, but much to your dismay he removes it from between your thighs. The car comes to a stop at a red light, and Harry takes the moment to look at you, his eyes wandering your squirming body. He’s practically drooling when he places his fingers in his mouth, tasting your sweet wetness.

“Sorry pup, jus’ needed t’taste yeh.” He chuckles again, and you whine softly in desperation. In one quick motion, he dives his hand back to your pussy, pressing his thumb on your swollen clit.

“Fuck!” The pleasure shoots up your spine, goosebumps raising across your body as he rubs circles on the puffy button. “Harry- please,”

“What d’ya want puppy? Want m’fingers?”

“Yes, yes,” you breathe out, words barely comprehensible through your panting.

“Alright, alright, I gotcha.” And with that his two fingers press into you, filling your tight hole perfectly. There is no hesitation before he begins pumping the digits in and out of you and his thumb never lets up on your bundle of nerves. “Such a needy puppy, got yeh soaking f’me from out in the stands hm?” His eyes are still on the road, but you can picture the lust filled eyes that are undoubtedly on his face.

“Get so wet jus- just thinkin’ about you,” you gasp, writhing as his fingers slam in and out of you.

“Yeah? This is my cunt, m’the only one who can make yeh this wet, isn’t tha’ right?”

“Only Harry.” At your confirmation he speeds his hand up, your vision clouding with white spots as the knot building in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.

All of a sudden, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty. “Wha-” You begin to question him but you realize that he’s pulling into his driveway. Instead of complaining, you sit up quickly and unbuckle your seatbelt, pulling your skirt back up your legs to avoid being nude on his front lawn.

As soon as you feel the little jolt your hand yanks on the handle and you hop out of the car. Your brain is fuzzy with need and all you are focused on is alleviating the aching between your thighs. You hear Harry lock the car while you're on the steps, and you turn back to ensure that he’s behind you. And sure enough, he’s hot on your trail, just as eager as you to get inside and onto his bed. Your foot is tapping on the ground anxiously, waiting for Harry to unlock the front door. After what seems like an hour, he is next to you again, fumbling with the silver keychain in his hand, eventually unlocking and pushing open the door. You both practically run inside, hands roaming each other's bodies and lips locking as you shuffle through the hall.

You disconnect breathlessly when you reach the stairs, subconsciously wrapping your hands around Harry’s neck so he can pick you up bridal style. He does so hastily, barely a second passing before he’s plopping you onto the fluffy mattress. “Finally,” he pants, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. There’s a prominent bulge in his trousers, and although you’ve seen it plenty, you are always in awe at how thick and big he is. While he’s busy removing his clothes, you are practically drooling at the sight of his bare cock, full, heavy, and dripping precome.

“Harry?”

He looks back down at you with his emerald green eyes, simultaneously dropping his recently-removed shirt on the floor. “Can I ride you?” The look he gives you is indescribable, a mixture of need, lust, cockiness, and beauty all rolled up into one.

“Whatever y’want puppy,” His hands scoop under your ass, and he lifts you up and switches your positions. Now it’s your turn to undress, and Harry makes himself busy by running his hands up and down your torso. “So gorgeous, y’know that?” You nod quickly then pull your shirt off of your head. “Most beautiful girl in the world I reckon.” You blush at the compliment, butterflies being added to the many sensations occuring in your body. You straddle his thighs, wrapping your hand around his length and tugging a few times. A loud groan rumbles through his throat, and you smile knowing you’re the one who made him feel like that. “Thought- thought yeh said y’wanted to ride me pup.”

“I do.” You keep your hand on his cock, sitting up on your knees and lining him up with your weeping cunt. All at once, your body is put at ease as his cock fills you up perfectly. He bottoms out inside of you, both of you moaning and groaning while you adjust. “So big-” Your words come out in choppy pants, the syllables being cut off by your heaves. You suck in one deep breath and move upwards, sinking back down onto him quickly. His large hands hold a tight grip on your waist, guiding you up and down his member. His lips attach to your neck, suckling on the supple skin just enough so that it doesn’t bruise.

“What a dirty little puppy you are,” he growls, eyes focusing heavily on where your bodies connect, watching himself disappear inside of you as you bounce up and down on his cock.

“Feel so full-” Tingles ricochet down every part of your body, and your legs are becoming weaker with each movement. Harry can feel your movement faltering, so his hips thrust upwards to meet yours, fucking you from underneath. “Harry!”

“I know pup, I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek and he leans in for another kiss, devouring your plump lips and swirling his tongue around yours. “So fuckin tight,” The words tumble from his mouth in a low growl, which sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. His cock twitches inside of you, encouraging you to muster all your energy and finish both of you off. Adrenaline kicks in and your strength returns, riding him faster and harder than before. “Let go f’me Y/N.” It only takes a few more thrusts for you to come undone, Harry’s orgasm following suit. The waves of pleasure roll through your body, and you throw your head back in ecstasy as you allow the feeling to overcome your body. Spurts of his hot cum cover your velvety walls and you ride out your orgasms together, resting your foreheads against one another.

You end up sleeping at his house, feeling safe knowing that Ella is staying with her mom today. It’s normal for you to sleep at his place, seeing as both of you are usually so tired that you pass out before you can leave. What isn’t normal is for you to be woken up in the morning by Harry’s phone ringing. Harry is a deep sleeper, and you laugh at the sight of him conked out while his ringtone blares on the nightstand just a few inches away. Carefully, you reach over his sleeping body and grab the phone, planning on hanging it up and going back to bed. However, when you saw that it was Ella calling, you changed your mind. Making a split second decision, you slide the icon to the right, holding it up to your ear.

“Hello?” Her whiney voice rings through your eardrum and you wince. Not the nicest thing to be woken up to.

“Hello,” you answer, your voice not reflecting the cocky grin that spread across your face.

“Who the hell is this!” she shrieks, and you make a mental note that she must not be a morning person.

“A friend of your dads.” Your response is once again calm and monotone, trying to stifle the laugh that is bubbling in your throat.

“Ugh! What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N”

[rere-the-writer]

Title- 'To win her back'

A part two to this request

a part three - ????

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Protective Mikaelsons

You were surprisingly happy after a good cry when the Mikaelsons left. You thought over Elijah's words wondering if you could truly forgive them. You stood huffing as Ryan rush to your side worry written over his face.

"You okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine I am just tired." You tell him as Ryan smiled softly taking you to bed. Marcel thought it would be a good time to visit you a month after your lovers found you.

"So all that is from them?" Marcel asked taking the cup of tea from you as you sat down looking at the boxes. Since the Originals found you and did as you asked it didn't stop them from sending gifts and things for your baby. Rebekah sent baby clothes, Kol sent toys, Klaus would send paintings he did while Elijah began paying your bills not trusting Ryan to keep you living comfortable.

"Yes. Their way of apologizing, showering me with gifts." You said having not open any of them though you couldn't stop Elijah from paying the bills.

"How is the little guy?"

"Heathly, him and his twin brother." You tell your best friend watching him light up touching your belly smiling.

"Wow twins. That amazing."

"It is....how are they?" You couldn't help but ask as Marcel leaned back thinking how things were back in New Orleans. Things were tense between the Mikaelsons and Hayley as they blamed themselves for you leaving and Hayley was trying to get them to let you go.

"Well they are tensed with Hayley and a little jealous that you let Freya visit." Marcel tells you as you sighed it was true you only allowed Freya to come up to see you so the only way your lovers knew that you were okay was though her and Marcel.

"Tense with Hayley? Why?"

"Well other than blaming themselves for you leaving, they also blame Hayley." Marcel says as you thought over what he said. You knew from what Freya told how they were doing Klaus dosen't really leave his art studio, Rebekah and Kol sleeps in your bedroom and Elijah ignores Hayley spending his time looking though your photo album.

"I see. Well I got a doctor's appointment."

"Right. See you again soon." Marcel said hugging you walking out with you.

"Yeah Mar."

You huffed feeling annoyed seeing dozen red roses on your door and picked the box. You reading the card seeing it was from Kol and you put the roses in a vase while doing so you noticed two empty glasses of wine.

"What the?" You muttered walking seeing pair of women panties that you knew wasn't yours. You realize what was happening as you marched to the the bedroom finding Ryan in bed with his secretary.

"RYAN! Are you fucking kidding me!" You shouted surprising the lawyer and his secretary. You eyes narrowed seeing the gorgeous necklace around the woman's necklace and realized it was one that Rebekah sent as an apology.

"Gifting her my jewelry?!" You shouted at him throwing a picture frame at him as the secretary ylep.

"Baby listen it was an accident."

"An accident?! Get the fuck out of my home and you take my jewelry off!"

"Baby! I'll be out on the street!" Ryan said giving you a puppy dog look as the secretary scrabble to take the jewelry off and got dress. You crossed your arms glaring at Ryan who look pathetic pleading for you to not throw him out.

Elijah was walking down stairs knowing how quiet it was with Klaus up in his art studio, Kol spending all his time with Freya and Rebekah had yet to really leave your bedroom. Hayley came in stopping seeing Elijah and made an attempt to talk to the Original as he had been cold to everyone that wasn't family.

"Elijah, you can't keep ignoring me."

"What do want me to do Hayley? Come running to you? Seek comfort from the one thing that reminds me of the pain I cause to the woman I truly loved?"

"Wow. I hope you say it to her face." Elijah looked up seeing you standing there with a baby sling that held twins. Elijah's breathing hitched finding you just gorgeous dressed in a long sundress hair cut short.

"Y/N?" Elijah whispered finding it hard to believe you were standing there as Rebekah had heard Elijah say your name with Klaus and Kol.

"You guys act like you have seen a ghost." You teased as Rebekah reached you first worried you'll pull away but was glad you let her hug you.

"Are you back for good?"

"I sure hope so because I didn't drive a truck load of stuff for nothing." You said noticing how nervous they were around you as if it was your first night with them all over again.

"You came back to us." Elijah said watching you being lead to the den by Rebekah. They followed after as you frowned noticing the dust on things as you took a good look at your lovers.

Marcel and Freya wasn't kidding when they told you that the others weren't doing well. Each of them looked as if they weren't really feeding, Elijah wasn't dressed in a clean suit, Rebekah looked a bit duller, Klaus looked scruffy with paint on his clothes and Kol was just as dull as Rebekah.

"Well I thought seven months in your mistake was enough." You say sitting down with Rebekah sitting next to you. They looked seeing the twin boys that was asleep.

"So you came back to throw it their faces that you are happier."

"No Hayley. Truthfully I missed you all so I came home it would be unfair to keep Oilver and Henrik from their family." You said as they stared and Elijah swallowed walking over kneeling letting Kol take the other side of you and Klaus stood behind you.

"You named one of our boys after our little brother?"

"Yeah to honor Henrik." You say softly letting them get a better look at the sleeping boys. Hayley crossed her arms staring at you.

"So what hoping to move back in like nothing happened?"

"No. I bought the town house across the street. I forgive them but I am not ready to move back in." You tell Hayley as Oliver woke whining getting your attention. You had Rebekah take a still sleeping Henrik as you fed Oilver.

"How old are they?"

"A month in a half." You answered Kol watching Oliver latch onto you to eat. Elijah was in awe staring at his sons noticed how much Oliver and Henrik looked like him but he was glad they had your nose.

"Baby, as much as we would love for you move back in if there was one thing we learned was. Let you do what you need."

"I am not going to keep the boys from you all unlike some people but I need time before we jump back into this."

"Take all the time you need love. We can wait a thousand years if needed." Klaus says softly rubbing your shoulders. They were happy you let them touch you and was every willing to go as slow as you wanted.

"You want to hold him, Elijah?" You asked when Oilver was done and Kol fix you up. Elijah held his arms out as you placed the wake Oilver in his arms.

"Henrik is smaller than his brother." Rebekah said handing you the sleeping baby as you smiled softly.

"There was a bit of trouble during childbirth. I mean Hen is heathly he'll be fine." You tell them noticing the worry on their faces.

"Are you guys really okay with her just coming back?! After all the pain she put you all in?" Hayley walking in as you stood up getting the twins comfortable in the sling.

"Clearly you guys need to work things out with Hayley. I'll be across the street." You said walking out missing the glares the Mikaelsons gave Hayley. Marcel helped you bring your things inside with Josh and Davina.

"They are cute." Davina said watching over Henrik and Oilver who were wake in baby swings. You smiled opening boxes looking at your boys.

"Yeah they sure got the cute Mikaelson baby genes." You tell Davina as Josh and Marcel brought in the last of the boxes.

"I'm glad you're back. Me and Josh missed you."

"You guys could have visited with Marcel."

"Yeah but someone had to make sure the Mikaelsons take care of themselves."

"Was it really that bad?" You asked looking at them as Davina sighed.

"I am not going to lie to you. Yes it was Y/N, they were a mess. Marcel had to watch over the city."

"Hell they barely let Hayley in the Abattoir unless she was dropping Hope off." Josh tells you as you looked out the window looking across the way staring at the Abattoir.

"Freya never told me how bad it was."

"Because we agreed that you should come back home on your own not because of guilt." Marcel tells you as you looked at them while you were glad that they wanted you to come back on your own. You wished they told you how they really were doing.

Later that evening Klaus stopped by with Elijah and you let them in as they noticed you were in one of Klaus's old shirts and sweatpants.

"Unpacking love?"

"Yeah if you guys didn't send so much I wouldn't be still unpacking." You tease lightly as Klaus smirked while Elijah knelt down in front of the boys. Oliver was reaching for Elijah's hand and he let the boy grab his hand.

"Where is Kol and Rebekah?"

"Getting you dinner." Klaus said moving to help you unpack while Elijah was playing with boys.

"Where is Ryan?"

"Back in New York. Caught him sleeping with his secretary."

"Sorry to hear the love." Klaus says rubbing your back as you chuckled leaning into him.

"It's okay. Ryan wasn't you guys...he didn't have that same warmth."

"We brought food my beautiful righteous Queen." Kol said making you laugh which made the babies laugh. The Mikaelsons were happy to hear your laughter again and this time they were going to do their best to be sure you felt loved as they weren't going to let you go this time.

[yostresswritinggirl]

Ik your request is off, but when your request is open can u write dating headcanons with Kazuha ? I like your works so much which is y i send u a request hehe

No rush please take care author-nim :'D

This is a long time coming, but I’m glad to know that you’re still a Kazuha simp even after all this time ahahha thank you for your kind words and I hope you like this!!

Kazuha Dating Headcanons

How it’s like “being with” the fugitive wandering samurai. (masterlist)

Beforehand

The whole dating thing is entirely dependent on when you met or known Kazuha. So for this one, we establish that you and Kazuha are friends even before he became a fugitive.

Your clan and the Kaedahara clan are known to be close, and that’s how you’ve known your childhood friend. You’re always together during the peace time of Inazuma, sometimes getting into trouble due to his wayfaring nature.

Your family tried desperately to help the Kaedahara clan with their financial issues but it wasn’t exactly enough to maintain such a large clan. Soon enough the samurai clan lost its power, and what remains of their abode became foreign as a more powerful clan reclaimed it.

But despite all of that, Kazuha’s happiness is your main priority and you’re relieved that despite the misfortune the young master felt more freer than ever. He leaves the sheltered life behind with the promise to visit you as frequent as he could.

And that he does, even when the vision hunt decree was enacted, even when it’s unsafe to be near the area where many eyes can identify him, Kazuha always kept his promises to visit and spend time with. And thankfully, with the history of your clans, your family are still ever so welcoming to his presence.

You even met his newfound friend (and his adorable cat!) during one of his visits, and Kazuha felt all the heaviness on his shoulders disappear when you two hit it off instantly! And after that visit he received a pat on the back and a thumbs up from his friend, telling him that he got his blessing.

This caused said friend to get smacked over the head by a flustered Anemo boy.

So when the news that he perished after issuing a duel before the throne came to you, the pain was just as bad as Kazuha’s anguish. That night you huddled together in the comforts of your room, weeping over your friend and the danger Kazuha now faces. Somehow all the peaceful times blurred into nothingness, the period of darker times and complications marked that day.

But you despite it all, Kazuha is still the honest man that he is, and he will fulfill his promises to the end: for you, for him, and for his slumbering friend.

Courting

Kazuha is a man of words and custom. Sometimes you think that his passion for poetry and wit were the things that made you fall for him, and he thought it was the best method to confess to someone as honorable as you.

So, yes, it was Kazuha who first confessed through a lengthy, poetic love letter that he left after sleeping over one night, something that he had planned many weeks ago yet kept to himself. Why would you want to be with someone who has nothing to his name? A person that you can’t spend time with freely, who prioritizes his selfish desire to be a vagabond than stay longer with you?

These thoughts stayed with him throughout the week that he avoided coming to your house and still lingered as he begrudgingly trudged up the hill to where your estate is, expecting the rejection at the sight of you waiting for him at the balcony of your room, his usual point of entry.

“YOU!” Kazuha was taken aback by the angry finger pointed at him, he was expecting something else, something sadder or guilty perhaps. Anger isn’t one of them - oh yeah, he did avoid you for a week, didn’t he? “You have the guts to drop this-” the sight of the letter in your hand made him physically recoil, “and then disappear for a week like nothing happened?! Come up here right now or I’m dropkicking your ass!”

Hurriedly, in main concern of your well-being, Kazuha used his elemental skill to jump up to the balcony - where he was met by a tight hug and you reciprocating his feelings. He hugs back in relief, before being smacked over the head for what he did.

Kazuha carries his hobby with him when you started dating, when you told him how nice it was and how you always feel flustered when it’s directed at you. Poetry, haikus, letters complimenting everything he loves about you when he knows it will take a while for him to come back. You have a special box filled with all his notes. And your favorite one:

My love is a butterfly Flies from hither to stay here forever In love and true perfection

On worse days when he’s there, at night he brings comfort by playing with his leaf, a skill of leaf-blowing he picked up from his travels and perfected for your sake. When there are times when you couldn’t sleep properly, he’s always there to pluck a leaf from the trees outside, playing a tune until you find the right comfort to rest. Usually in the company of his arms.

Kazuha absolutely loves cooking for you! When rare days comes that he is able to visit during daytime he likes to demonstrate his cooking skills, always assuring that he gets the freshest ingredients for you to eat. They’re barely a miss, like he knows your taste more than you. He takes a mental note of your favorites, your reactions and of course, your honest feedback.

The next time he comes over, he has enough to feed your family. Sometimes you feel your clan loves him more than you did.

When there are interesting things he’d encountered during his travels, he’s sure to tell you the best of them! These moments are like subtle nudges of him to convince you to join him on his adventures, enticing you with his stories to a life full of meaning and excitement out there.

More often than not at the end of his story sessions, despite knowing that it isn’t safe for you to go out (with or without him) he’ll always have this soft look in his eyes as he looks at you, smile so soft as he looks at you like a daydream, “I can’t wait to be with you out there.”

Kazuha loves it when he gets a reaction from you, whether it be your happiness or relief as he ascends to your home, genuine curiosity over his tales, the embarrassment when he makes a move, or even the worry when he comes back looking a little worse for wear.

Traveling with Kazuha

You’ve always lived a semi-sheltered life in Inazuma due to your protective clan, with your interaction mostly focused with the villagers of your area and the people in your estate. When the decree started, you barely go out now, your people feared that your Vision would be taken away if the Tenryou Commission were to see you.

It was also the main reason why despite Kazuha’s desire to show you a whole new world out there, he couldn’t ever prioritize his own feelings over your safety. It was also one of the main reasons he joined the Resistance: to make a better world for you so that he can be with you in a free world.

However, one day, a clan that’s in the favor of the Vision Hunt Decree snitched on you to the Tenryou Commission. And you were almost captured (as the only Vision holder in your clan) if not for Kazuha arriving at the last minute, fighting them off before escaping with you.

Your family was able to contact him before everything escalated, and decided that it was far more safer for you to be with him than stay at your clan. And so became your current life with Kazuha.

With a favor, Kazuha managed to get you to join the Crux Fleet. And it took a whole month before everyone (including Beidou) to find out about your relationship. This quiet boy? In a relationship with you?! Everyone calmly lost their shit, and there was a drinking party on board (for the rowdy adults).

It was warm, carefree and exciting. Despite your previous worries about the life you left behind, next to Kazuha in the middle of the ocean, somehow things ended up alright. Better even.

You jive with everyone quite well, especially with Beidou - the woman loves you to bits! Teasing you, pulling you around after finding out your backstory, as Kazuha awkwardly follows from behind in silence.

Whenever you’re around, Kazuha’s demure demeanor completely vanishes, from the mysterious kid that the crew didn’t know the name of for weeks turns into a rambunctious teen that’s only purpose is to make you crack a smile or laugh.

He is so down bad, everyone but you notices this, and soon he too became a huge target for teasing.

You’ve realized too that Kazuha smells a lot like the nature around him, sometimes the sea salt from the sea that you spend most of your days on, to the maple leaves of the forest near the docks of the cities you land in, or the musky, earthly scent of the mountains that you both trek.

Kazuha likes to be by your side every second of the day, as long as possible. And oh does he love teaching you things about the outside world, like how to tell the weather, the constellations in the sky, the inner workings of the ship.

He’s like a lovesick puppy trailing behind you. Sometimes he had to be physically removed away from you to help out on the ship, and the unlucky crew member who drags him away during a particularly bad mood gets the worst glare in their life. If they try to tell it to the others, the crew won’t believe him.

Kazuha Kaedahara had always been fascinated by you, and now that you’re here with him, he wouldn’t pass up to spend every second together. Anywhere in the world, with him you’ll be safe.

@zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @coka-cala @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @creation-magician @hanniejji @gojos-baby @gojos-baby @volleybloop @tartuu @sassyglassesbunny @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @blissmal​ @upsetpotatoo​