#i liked “bottoms” it's great to watch with a friend on a lazy afternoon

[blanketforcas]

Recent (2023) movie recs: 'Dicks: The Musical' (<--musical vulgar gays), 'Down Low' (<--disaster/murder gays), 'Theater Camp' (<--theater camp gays), 'Bottoms' (<--high school lesbians), 'Red White and Royal Blue'(<--cute sweet rich gays), 'Cassandro' (<--Lucha libre gays),'In the Company of Women' (<--aka 'Las Buenas Compañías', Spanish 1970s lesbians), 'Strange Way of Life' (<--short film, stylish cowboy gays), 'Saltburn' (<--sneaky sinister rich gays), 'Rustin' (<--civil rights era gays)

thank you for your recs 🙏 some i have seen and some new ones for me!

[blueywrites]

u-haul 'cause I might let you move in it (1/2)

dom dealer!eddie x sub fem!reader Inspired by @2jihiir0's fanart 'make it quick... baby's sleeping'. leave them some love! read part two here.

2.5k

cw (both parts): 18+. smut, drug use (weed), situationship becoming something more (???), shame kink, praise & degradation, pet names, exhibitionism-adjacent, no y/n, no physical descriptors, eddie's still a fairly soft dom bc I'm just not hard like that 😭

an: this is just the start of the filth, y'all - most of it occurs in part two 😌 shout out to @munson-blurbs @hellfire--cult @word-wytch and @the-unforgivenn for their feral support and @fracturedarkness bc this wouldn't exist without her.

enjoy part one! 🩵

The afternoon sun hangs heavy in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow through the dusty blinds of the trailer. The air inside is thick with the scent of smoke and stale beer, a heady mixture that clings to the walls. It’s the kind of smell that seeps into your clothes, your hair, your skin. It should leave you feeling slightly suffocated, especially considering the oppressive humidity also clinging to every surface, but somehow, there's a measure of comfort in the acrid scent.

You’re sitting on the threadbare couch, the fabric worn with age creaking as you shift restlessly, trying to find a more comfortable position in the heat. The fabric scratches your soles as you prop your feet up, leaning against the couch arm, fanning the neck of your thin tank top to peel the dampness from your chest. Beneath the old coffee table, your flip-flops lay forgotten, abandoned on the threadbare carpet. A beer bottle sits nearby, sweating rings onto the surface of the table, a testament to the lazy haze of the afternoon.

On the other side of the couch, your dealer lounges against the cushions, his movements fluid and practiced as he rolls a joint with deft, inked fingers. You look over at Eddie as he watches the TV, his head lolled back against the couch, his eyes heavy-lidded, relaxed. He looks good. You can’t help but spend a long moment staring at him: the angles of his face, his big brown eyes and puffy lips, his long, shaggy curls that frame his high cheekbones. He’s pretty, and he’d look downright innocent if it wasn’t for the long nick of white scar tissue kissing the edge of his lip and the scruff darkening his cheeks and jaw. Your gaze dips lower over his tight black jeans, lingering where they meet his rust-colored tank. The shirt is caught up around his hip, revealing a strip of pale skin and a tattoo that you can just see the bottom of. You want to run your tongue over it, then keep mapping all his ink until your mouth has touched each bit of darkness on him.

This thing with Eddie started when you broke up with Trevor and lost your go-to source for getting high. When you’d asked around, a friend of a friend recommended Eddie Munson, saying he was the best you could come by in the area: decent product, reasonable prices, and not a total creep. The first couple times were quick transactions, and then you started hanging around because the girl who hooked you up also told you Eddie would likely offer to smoke you out if you did. He let you hang around because he didn't much care either way, and he didn't find you hard to look at. That led quickly to casual sex whenever you saw each other, usually when you'd come by a couple times a month to restock your supply. And the sex is great– better than the weed, and Eddie's weed is always high quality. He just has this ability to make you feel special in the moment without having any expectations about whatever-you-and-he-were as soon as you pull your panties back on, leaving you free to date whoever you wanted when you left his trailer.

It’s ecstasy to have all of his attention focused on you in those moments because, though Eddie looks like a mean bastard, he gets off on your pleasure. He's not one to make you feel used or neglected; he's a thorough lover. And he has a knack for straddling the perfect line between sweet and sour. He'd praise you then humiliate you in the next breath, and it drove you wild. Kept you coming back even though he never expressed interest in taking you out or doing anything with you other than just getting high, watching TV, and fucking you 'til you screamed.

And then, at some point, you find yourself declining guys' offers for dinner or drinks. You just don’t feel like going out anymore, because trying to find Mr. Right was getting exhausting— at least, that's what you tell yourself. And Eddie starts calling you sometimes to let you know he had a new strain he thought you'd like, some of Rick's fancy shit. Soon enough, you go from seeing him twice a month to twice a week, sometimes more. And slowly but surely, you begin to notice a change in yourself. You start staring at all his tattoos and wondering what the stories are behind them. Feeling an odd flutter when you flop down next to him and he'd sling his arm around your shoulder without a thought. Laying tangled in his musty bedsheets, and when he leaves to go to the bathroom, secretly burying your nose against his pillow because the smell of him has suddenly become... comforting.

Things are changing for you, and you really hope they are for him, too. 'Cause if not, it seems your traitorous heart has determined you'll be in for a world of hurt.

"Y'want some of this?" Eddie's voice cuts through the haze, drawing your attention away from the television. You glance over to see him holding up the joint, a lazy smirk playing at the corners of his lips. The glow of the joint illuminates his features, soft against the curve of his cheek.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your own lips as you shift closer to him. He pats his thigh, a silent invitation, and you don’t hesitate to straddle his lap, the heat of his body seeping through your pajama shorts. His jeans are rough against your tender inner thighs as you shift, grazing the hardening bulge pressing against his zipper; your stomach tightens with the first whispers of arousal as you feel it brush against you.

"Gimme a show then, kitten," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, making that arousal bloom fuller as you grow excited. It’s a playful taunt, a challenge, but beneath the teasing facade, you can sense something more—a hint of possessiveness, maybe even of longing. That could just be your wishful thinking, but nonetheless, your heart races at the prospect as you meet his gaze, accepting his challenge.

With a coy smile, you slip off the couch, settling on your knees and running your nails up his thighs on your way to his lap. You take your time unbuckling his belt, keeping your movements slow and unhurried, though you secretly throb as you begin to unwrap him. It’s crazy how quickly he turns you on— how all he has to do is smirk and pin you with a look, or murmur a few words in that low, husky tone, and you’re already wetting your panties for him. 

Eddie waits just long enough for you to shimmy his jeans and boxers down to his knees, and then he catches you by the jaw with a broad, rough palm. You look up at him as he guides you back up with his light grip on your face. His eyes flick down to your mouth as he leans forward, curls swinging to kiss his jaw. You brighten, eager to feel his mouth on yours, wondering what kind of kiss he’ll reward you with— something slow and sweet, or wet and filthy. But he leaves just a peck on your lips before drawing back, tightening his hold on your jaw to keep you firmly in place when you instinctively go to chase him.

You fall immediately into a pout, slumping back on your heels as he breathes a chuckle at you. Eddie bends to lightly pat your cheek a few times in consolation before settling back into the cushions, his posture relaxed yet commanding. He must know the gesture would rile you up, and it does— you feel your disappointment churn in your belly, turning to petulance. In retaliation, you clamber up to your feet, abandoning your position kneeling before his boots. With narrowed eyes, you drop your shorts and panties together without ceremony, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side, denying him the chance to enjoy watching you strip. You cross your arms when your bratting only makes him smirk even wider at you. He quirks an eyebrow as if to say, “Well?” 

You resent how much you like his stupid face.

The couch creaks its protest as you climb up onto it, slinging a leg over his lap again, this time with nothing separating your skin from his, which is hot and slightly sticky with the humidity. His cock kicks subtly when your pussy grazes him, and you bite your lip, feeling an answering pulse of desire within yourself. When you mount him, reaching behind to grip him at the base and notch his fat head at your entrance, Eddie prepares for your performance: draping his arms casually over the backrest, fingers idly tapping against the worn fabric, his other arm hinging to bring the joint lazily to his lips. 

He looks like such an asshole, waiting for you to service him. And you might've goaded him more because of it, but you forget about being bratty the second you sink down on his lap, taking him all the way into you. 

A quiet moan sighs from between your cracked lips when you sit fully on his cock, your eyes slipping closed as you get lost in that initial stretch. He's not the only guy you've fucked— far from it— but there’s just something about the way he slots inside, nudging against the end of you, that always leaves you feeling more perfectly filled than anyone else. Eddie watches with a sly glint in his half-lidded eyes as you start to grind on him, letting yourself drift into the space he always brings you into. With him, you can be soft, sensual, and needy, but also desperate and pathetic. You can act out all your secret desires, know that Eddie will flay you open and force you to acknowledge them, and let the shame of it get you off all at once.

Eddie lets you be a freak, and better yet, he likes it.

Desperate to earn his approval, you run your hands up your body, dragging over your hips and up to your neck as you ride him. Your abdomen rolls as you grind with fluid, sensual movements, doing your best to put on the show he’d requested. You look at him through your lashes as your wandering fingers catch on the hem of your tank top, dragging it slowly up to reveal your soft belly. You hold it just below your breasts so Eddie can watch the way your curves bend and move while you work his cock. 

In some respects, the dance is for you as much as it’s for him because the way Eddie watches you with rapt attention, his eyes devouring every inch of your body, really turns you on. You bite your lip, your clit swelling with anticipation as you tease him with a glimpse of the underside of your breasts. He hums approvingly, taking a leisurely hit from the joint. As the smoke curls around him in a tantalizing haze, you give in sooner than you’d been intending and ruck up your top to let your breasts fall out. You start to play with them, squeezing and kneading as you rock your hips harder, your own need mounting.

Gradually, your performance ceases being a performance. Your nipples begin to ache, begging to be touched, and a moan spills unbidden from your lips as you tweak and pinch them, sending pleasure zinging straight down within you. You close your eyes, a tiny frown forming as you try to concentrate on the low flame of your arousal, but it remains at a frustratingly low simmer. You rock faster, grind harder, pinch harsher, your movements a silent plea for the sweet relief only Eddie can give. You’ve built your own pleasure as much as you can on your own, and now, you need him. The coyness is wiped from your expression, replaced with a begging pinch in your brow, a needy, wet shine in your eyes as you blink unseeingly at him, all pretty and pathetic on his lap.

At the border between satisfaction and desperation— that’s where he wanted you. 

A hand at your hip stills your movements, and as your eyes snap to focus on Eddie's face, you see he’s leaned forward, his nose scant inches from yours. His other elbow is planted on the couch arm, the joint poised tantalizingly nearby in his ringed fingers. Eddie squeezes your hip firmly, then again more gratuitously, and when you obediently fall still to sit motionless on his cock, he lets his palm slide up the curve of your waist in a drag that makes you gasp, you're so wired and ready for his touch. You watch, rapt, as he brings the joint toward his lips, salivating as a swipe of his tongue moistens them.

“Look at me.” 

Your eyes snap up to his, captured completely by his unwavering gaze. As he inhales, those brown eyes glitter in the orange that flares bright at the joint’s end. And he keeps that point of contact between you as his broad palm travels up, up, up— over the supple heft of your breast, grazing the hard peak of your nipple, skimming the thrumming pulse in your neck, his thumb catching on the underside of your jaw as he cups your cheek. He closes those scant inches between you, and when the bulb of his nose nudges yours, your mouth falls open as your eyes slip closed. 

He exhales, you inhale. When the warm rush of Eddie’s breath kisses your lips, you take it into you, your chest expanding as your lungs fill with smoke. The taste of him mingles with a heady rush of arousal, and you continue to take, even through the twinge of discomfort as your lungs stretch to accommodate it all. As Eddie gives you the last of his smoke, you close your mouth, keeping it all inside.

“Hold it,” he murmurs against your skin. His lips trail kisses along your jaw as you obey, fighting your diaphragm as it hitches, wanting to cough. You make a little noise in the back of your throat when he nips you, the brief sharp sting soothed soon after by the flat of his tongue. You hold as long as you can, and when you finally exhale, Eddie rewards you by taking hold of your hips, pulling you into a slow, sensual grind as he kisses you sloppy, wet lips wide and devouring. The friction and fervor crash over you in an intense wave of pleasure, one that has you whining, twisting your fingers in his hair, pressing your tits to his chest, ready to ignite—

The front door shakes with the pounding of a heavy fist.

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥

↳ summary: everyone knew you loved your lazy sundays. but that didn't stop them from bothering you

↳ warnings: mentions of fights and ponyboy getting jumped. nothing serious

↳ notes: could be interpreted as platonic or romantic with whoever you like. just some silly times

↳ song: we're gonna move—elvis presley

masterlist | commissions | carrd

Sundays at the Curtis household were normally calm.

Maybe it was because that was the day before school would start up again for Ponyboy— it used to be that way for both him and Sodapop until his big brother dropped out —or maybe it was because that was the lords day; at least according to the bible. Whatever the case, you knew you could always rely on an unlocked door and comfy couch awaiting you each time you jumped the chain link fence in their front yard. Just as long as it was Sunday.

So, understandably, you were peeved when Steve Randal and Two-Bit had come bursting through the front door looking for a fight.

"Come on man!" Two-Bit, otherwise known as Keith Matthews by his mother and kid sister, but only by his mother and kid sister, was currently whining your name in a way that he would only do if he wanted something. "Those soc's deserve it for what they did to Pony yesterday!"

Warm sunlight from the clear afternoon day peaked through the window panes behind you, lighting up each and every crevice in the front room of the house. A great black and white picture show was running on the TV, the likes of which had captured your attention for most of the day as you lay on Darry Curtis' couch, only ever moving to help out with chores when asked by him or Soda.

You scowled from your spot on that same trashy floral couch as before, flipping Two-Bit off quick enough so that Darry didn't see you. Even though he was in the other room working on dishes with Soda, you knew he would be able to tell. He was magic in a way like that. Annoyingly magic.

"What's with the shake up?" Steve questioned through the cigarette in his mouth, looking down at you from his nose. "Just last week you were itching for a rumble, and now all you want to do is sit and watch TV like some bum?"

"Wrong. Now all I want to do is sit on the couch and watch cartoons like some bum." You corrected him with a bit of snark in your tone, knowing that he hated that sort of thing. You saw Two-Bit's lips quirk up in a smile from the corner of your eye, reminding you temporarily of the shared love of cartoons that the two of you held.

"It's Sunday." Soda strolled in from the other room with a damp rag in his hands, tossing it down on the couch cushions as he went to clap Steve on the back—the way he always did when he saw his best friend. "You know they like their Sundays, guys."

"Screw their Sundays." Steve scoffed without any real malice behind the action. "Dally's on his way over with Johnny right now to meet us before the fight. We just wanted to come and get you before they got here."

With a halfhearted groan you let your head hit the back of the couch. If Dallas was coming over, you knew that the gangs minds had already been made up. Dally could be awfully convincing when he wanted to get his way, and that was more often than not. Really there was no sense in arguing now, but sometimes you had less sense then you'd like to admit.

"I'll tell Darry ya'll are gonna start up a fight." You said in a last ditch effort to keep your lovely spot on the warm couch. You were just met with knowing smiles.

"Awh you know he'd let us go if we promised to not get anymore blood on his floor comin' home." Two-Bit's smile widened, and you knew that he could tell they'd worn you down. That's how it always went when they wanted to fight during an off day for you, and you should be more used to it by now.

With the beginnings of a slow chew on your bottom lip, you mulled it over. Despite what one could think about Darry, that he yelled at his brothers too much or was too hard on Pony, you knew he wouldn't hesitate to get into a fight of his own for one of his brothers, even if he had work the next day. And that was a stone cold fact.

The screen door to the Curtis home squeaked open for the second time in just a few minutes, the entrance giving way to two more figures in dark clothing and greased up hair. One was nursing a cigarette butt while the other swayed side to side in a nervous tick.

"Ready to split?" Dallas Winston let a puff of smoke escape his lips as he grinned, looking around at the small group that had gathered in the living room. Johnny Cade shuffled behind him, and despite the current situation, you made time to send a welcome wave in his direction. He nodded back with a light glint in his eyes.

"Most of us." Soda laughed at Dally's question, ratting you out with a single look in your direction.

"I swear to god man, we do this every time." Dally shook his head as if he'd been expecting this. He looked at you dead on, almost as if trying to pry an explanation out of you this time. You resisted the urge to scrunch your nose up as he did so.

"Don't worry Dal, we just got 'em on the fence." Two-Bit smiled, and you hated that he was right.

With a sigh, you dusted your lap off before getting up, ignoring the small cheer that came from Soda and Two-Bit as you did so. From behind them Johnny smiled that little smile of his.

Dally even let a small one of his own slip, and you cursed whoever decided to give him such long eyelashes. One wrong downward tilt of his head, and sometimes you felt like he could get you to do whatever he wanted if he just asked.

"I'm coming, but next Sunday if any of you so much as ask me into town, I'll start a fight of my own." You pursed your lips. Another cheer rose between the six of you, and somehow you just knew that next week the exact same thing would happen, just as it always did. Good thing it never really bothered you. Nothing these guys ever do would, even though you'd never admit it to them.

"And just to be clear I want you to know I'm only going because it was Pony that was jumped!" You raised your voice through the pre-celebration, trying to stop the smile breaking out across your face from growing any wider. "If it was any of you idiots, I'd go join the other side!"

Playful boo's broke out as Soda slung an arm around your shoulders. A hand was quick to fly up to your hair with an attempted noogie, but you shook your head wildly enough to hault it.

Leaving the security of the plush couch and the drone of the Curtis' TV, you found yourself walking down the street with Dally's cigarette between your lips, taking a puff of it before handing it back to him. As the white smoke drifted up into the blue sky above, you thought about the people around you, and smiled.

Now you just had to hope you wouldn't ruin yet another shirt with blood.

[mrs-hollandstan]

More Than Perfect || Sam Holland

Warnings: mentions of nudity, mentions of childbirth and the complications afterwards, self-doubt, language?, babiessss, Sam just being a supportive cutie

Word Count: 1,720

Author’s Note: Hopefully you guys enjoy a little bit of dad!Sam. Lemme know :) Also, huge credit to @/marsbudge on Instagram for the picture on the right. She’s amazing in expressing her beauty and is the whole reason I created this piece. Moms/ women in general are fucking superheroes. 

My Masterlist || Add yourself to one of my taglists

There was nothing like having a baby. You were told that once you had a little one, your life would change and you would never understand the absolute love you have for this tiny human you'd made. When you and Sam got pregnant with your daughter, he was infatuated with your naked body. The tummy and the thick thighs and the ever growing breasts. Not that you yourself particularly minded being nude around your fiancè or just in general, especially when it just so happened that in the worst weeks of your pregnancy you'd be in the middle of summer. 

When your belly popped towards the bottom, blossoming up the further you got in your pregnancy, Sam lost his mind. He loved the bump and when his hands wandered, it's often where they ended up. More than anything, Sam appreciated the changes your body went through, especially the stretch marks around your thighs, hips, and belly. The boy was obsessed. That's why his Instagram blew up with pictures of your belly, pictures from the baby shower, of the nursery, of her closet, her name board above the crib, and eventually her when she arrived in the beginning of August. 

Virginia Elizabeth was what you named her and Sam, just as much as when she was in your belly, was obsessed with her. She was constantly in his arms and he admired each one of her little features on the daily, dressing her, feeding her (if you couldn't of course), changing her, rocking her to sleep. He was an all around great father. 

Especially because of the pain and exhaustion he inevitably and guiltily felt he inflicted on you. Your bump remained for a few weeks, but what it left, Sam saw, made you slightly depressed. Your feet were still swollen, your breasts were huge but your belly was starting to sag, and the bleeding was ridiculous. You slept most of the time because of the constant milk production and late nights, but Sam didn't mind taking Virginia out into the living room and kitchen, especially if his brothers were over to see their baby girl. 

However, after about a month you'd gotten somewhat used to being a mom and feeding her late at night with Sam right there at your side, giddy smile on his face the entire time at the look of his girls. He loved introducing you as his girls and going to see family and friends with your bubbly little girl in his arms. But something that seemed to remain after all of it was the nudity in your house. 

Sam found that most times he came to find you napping, you were nude beneath the blanket. Not that he minded. Easy access to the skin of your back and belly and thighs. He actually loved the sight and hoped that when he went back to culinary school and eventually went to work as a chef in one of your local restaurants, you'd still be like that, something to look forward to when he climbed into bed with you. 

With a day off from work but not from school, Sam was off in the afternoon and back before the sun started to set, walking up the stoop with a smile on his face. Even a few hours spent away from his girls was torturous. Shouldering the door open, he drops his bag just inside, kicking his shoes off just beside it, 

"Babe?" He calls. There's no reply, a frown covering Sam's face as he walks towards the nursery. He pauses in the doorway of your bedroom when he sees you, smiling to himself. You stand just before your bed, nude with your little girl, only clad in a diaper, in your arms. Your eyes are closed as you sway from side to side, the little one whimpering softly. Walking into the room, Sam stands with his hands on his hips, 

"Look at you two." He says softly. You open your eyes slowly, glancing at him. His smile is so wide you don't know how it fits on his face. He takes a deep, breathless like breath, looking you over, "You two are so perfect." He mumbles before he walks forward again, coming to stand behind you. His hands rest over your hips, lips pressed to your temple, 

"You smell like biscuits." You murmur softly, not faltering in the swaying, even as you lean back against his chest. He chuckles softly, 

"Orange cardamom biscuits. They'd go good with your tea, I'll have to make them sometime for you." He explains softly. You nod, lips pressing against Virginia's cheek. Her little face is turned up towards the ceiling, mouth hanging open as she fights sleep. You sigh, 

"I uhh, I took a shower, put her in that little bouncy thing just outside the shower and she got fussy cause it was hot in the bathroom. So I took her out of her onesie and was holding her and I just... her skin on mine felt amazing. Like yours does. And I miss her. I miss..." Sam can see the tears in your eyes now, "I miss my baby bump and being in the hospital smelling that newborn smell and all that." You tell him. He nods, 

"Its the postpartum peach. You know it'll pass and you'll have so much fun with her when she's older. Plus... the older she gets, the closer we are to havin another one. More of that newborn smell." He reasons. The look you throw him over your shoulder makes him swallow, 

"Alright... yeah, still traumatized from her birth, got it but... you don't have to be so upset. She's still little and perfect... both my girls are, and for the next... what, year, that won't change. She'll get nice and chunky and when she changes, we'll so be ready for it. She'll get giggly and fun and you'll love it. I know you will babe." He reassures. You nod, 

"I know I just can't help it. It feels like someone else is controlling my life, my emotions. I'm sorry." 

"You don't have to apologize Y/N. Your body, your mind are going through a lot of changes. You're maturing and all that. I'm not upset about it. The crying, from you or her doesn't bother me. At least there's some need for me." He half jokes. You smile, looking down at your baby girl. He sighs, 

"I'm really likin this naked thing with you though." He mutters, kissing your shoulder as he molds your hips in his hands. You hum, 

"Sometimes I'm just too lazy to get dressed, other times it's just too hot." You reason. Sam nods, 

"I like it." 

"Oh yeah?" He nods when you glance up at him, "Maybe you should join the party then. I wanna stare at her and she likes daddy's chest." He doesn't even need you to finish the before he's stripping from the grease and oil stained shirt and pants, leaving them in a pile on the floor as you sit at the edge of the bed. You scoot to your side, letting Sam lay down before you before you lay Virginia over his chest. He mumbles incoherently down at her, kissing the top of her head as he strokes down her back. He purrs which makes her whimper, the motion further lulling her to sleep. He glances over at you when you prop your head up on your hand, 

"You're a great father Sam. You've always been an awkward little bean but... when it comes to V, you do amazing." He chuckles softly, 

"Thanks Y/N/N. You two... mean the world." He admits, rubbing up and down your baby's back softly. You sigh, brushing his unruly curls aside, 

"I'm just glad that I don't have to cook. The food you make is excellent and you like doing it and baby loves it too." He laughs again, 

"And that's all that matters is making you both happy." He murmurs. There's a silence that permeates between you for a moment before you stand, finding the thin robe you wear all the time if it genuinely is too hot to wear anything else, 

"What was this... thing you were saying about orange cardamom biscuits?" You ask with a cock of your eyebrow. He smiles wide, tip of his tongue caught between his teeth, 

"I'm starting to think ALL you use me for is food." 

"I feed your little girl from my own body like eight times a day. The LEAST you could do is make bomb fucking food Holland." He hums after a moment, eyes averted from yours and to the little girl laid across his chest. He glances back up, 

"Can we just... have a little longer of this moment? Just a pretty little family before I'm whisked away to slave over a stove." He jokes. After a moment of staring at each other, you sigh, trying to fight your smile before you near the bed again, sitting at his side, 

"Fine Samuel. But only because you're pretty." You lean in to kiss his nose, kissing your baby girl's head just below his chin, "And you too little miss. I just hope you at least get something from me for all the pain and suffering I went through getting you here." Sam reaches up to tuck hair behind your ear, 

"You're a great mumma already. I have no doubt that she'll be witty and perfectly perfect. With a mum like you she'll always know she can never disappoint us with whatever decision or life choice she makes. You'll make sure of it and that's what matters. Raising a decent fucking human being." He says with such passion in his eyes you think you'll faint. You stare at him for another moment before sighing, 

"I love you more than anything on this earth Samuel Holland. Our little family is just perfect right now." You tell him. Leaning up to kiss you, he sighs, 

"Love my girls in all of their beautiful nudity. Love skin to skin." He murmurs. You lay your head against his shoulder, watching your girl sleep. Of course pregnancy and motherhood was difficult, but your fiancè made it so much better and your baby girl was everything and more for the both of you.

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[mlmxreader]

Looking Disrespectfully | Slade Wilson x Male!Reader

request; "I have the biggest fucking crush on you" may I request this one with Slade Wilson please? - anon

summary; it's never unusual for you to swing by Slade's place, he doesn't care... but maybe he does, maybe Slade does care in his own way.

warnings; swearing, praise

As a friend of Bane, you were no stranger to the residence of Slade Wilson, often spending days at a time there just to see the man himself and to spend time with him; Bane once called you the best man that he knew, despite the fact that you honestly didn't do much. You certainly didn't do the kinds of things that Bane or Slade did. But you did punch Roman Sionis that one time. Sionis annoyed you sometimes, but he couldn't touch you, not when Bane and Slade had come to pick you up. You were practically untouchable.

So, no, it wasn't much of a surprise or something out of the ordinary that you were more than at home on Slade's sofa; one leg dangled over the side, the other propped up on the arm as you laid on your back and scrolled through your phone. All of your other friends were out partying, out and about doing seemingly everything fun in the world, some of them were posting about how great their newest romantic fling with; it made you wonder about Slade, about whether he would ever be interested in you. Probably not. He probably would have been more interested in a man that was way more handsome, way smarter, way better at everything and anything; he probably would have been more interested in a man that didn't pick fights with Gotham's gangsters. You put your phone down, letting it rest on your chest as you sighed, propping one arm behind your head, the other on your stomach.

Slade knew you were there, or at least, you hoped he did, you hoped he had gotten the text you had sent him an hour ago and that he was probably just taking a quick shower or making sure his armour wasn't damaged or cleaning up his weapons. He was probably doing something.

You allowed your eyes to drift shut after a while, uneasy and light sleep taking over for a moment as your head turned to the side, letting you snuggle a little bit into your own arm as you sighed and grumbled. It was a dreamless sleep, the kind that came with lazy summer afternoon naps in a field or bitter winter morning naps halfway up a tree.

When you awoke, sweating and breathing heavy, you were confused as to why there was a black silk blanket thrown over you, clearly done carelessly but with some thought; it made you smile a little as you came to, stretching and clicking your back as you sat up and rubbed your face. You felt a few bumps here and there, nothing outside of the usual amount of acne spots if you were honest. But when you got to your senses, a jaw aching yawn ripping through you, you could have sworn that you could hear a little grunting.

Looking over at the other side of the room, your eyebrows raised and your throat grew dry, a hum escaping from your mouth as you looked at Slade; he was doing pull-ups with the bar he had hung on the doorframe a while ago, and while you didn't want to be disrespectful, you couldn't help but to look at his muscles. His shoulders and his back, his arms... the sweat dripping down his skin as you swallowed thickly and looked at the way his jogging bottoms clung to his body. You bit your lip as you watched him. Fuck, he was beautiful.

"If you're gonna sit there like that, you should come over and look with your hands," Slade suddenly growled, not stopping as he continued to pull himself up with the bar.

Your breath hitched as you grumbled, looking away suddenly, your gaze catching the very interesting white laminate floor and the incredibly fascinating plain pattern on the boards. "I wasn't looking."

Slade scoffed, dropping down from his bar with a heavy thud, he ran a hand through his white hair and made his way over, a little bit smug as he stood before you and commanded your attention, drawing your gaze to him as he smirked. "Oh, really?"

"Really," you grumbled. "I wasn't."

"Don't lie to me," he told you, the smirk dropping as he tilted his head slightly to the side, the sun catching his eye patch and causing small glittering spots of gold to dance on the black material. He knew you liked him, he had known since you had first caught feelings for him, and he did take a certain pride and arrogance and smugness in the fact that you did.

You sighed, growling a little as you ran a hand through your hair and dared to get up, doing your best to square up to him and to ignore your body screaming at you to kiss him and to hold him close. Folding your arms across your chest, you shrugged, staring at him as you scowled a little. "Fine. I was looking disrespectfully while you were working out."

"Good boy," Slade praised lowly, knowing from the flash in your eyes that he had stricken gold, his smirk came back and he hummed lowly. "And why were you looking?"

"Slade-"

"Answer the question, (y/n)," he commanded. He would be patient with you if you wanted him to be, but all the same, he wanted to hear you admit that you had feelings for him, he wanted to hear you say it.

You hated him, in that moment, although it was the certain kind of hate that would fade within a minute or two, as you were certain that he was just playing with you the way that a cat plays with a dead bird or a dog plays with a dead rat; you knew that Slade would never feel the same for you, he would desire someone better than you could ever be... but even still, you couldn't help but to obey his command. "For fuck's sake... it's because I have the biggest fucking crush on you, alright?"

"There's a good puppy," Slade praised, slowly reaching out to lay his hand on your shoulder as he nodded and looked you up and down for a moment. He retracted his hand, and took a step back as he moved over to his little kitchen to grab something to drink. "I'll do what I can for you, but I'm telling you this now - I'm not some romantic hero."

"I know," you shrugged, following him and taking a seat on the black leather stool at his breakfast bar, letting your forearms press against it as you leaned forward slightly. "I wouldn't expect you to be, but..."

"But?" He growled, flashing a look your way as he didn't even dare to ask you if you wanted a drink. You knew where everything was, you could get it yourself.

"Don't you... fuck, Slade, you could be with anyone you want," you chuckled bitterly, shaking your head. "Don't you want someone smarter, more handsome, someone better?"

Slade shrugged, muttering something beneath his breath as he leaned against his white marble counter. He wasn't exactly an interior designer himself, but he was rich enough that, when he bought the place, he had been able to afford being able to hire one. Even still, when he dared to look back at you, he couldn't help but to scoff. "I want you, (y/n)."

"But-"

"You can walk out of that door right now," he started, "and we can act like none of this happened... or, you can stay there, and you can be mine."

Slade had all the time in the world for you to make up your mind, he had every second available to wait for you to decide what you wanted; it did take you a while to decide, a little while to think of whether or not you were going to ignore the fact that he was far, far out of your league... eventually, you gathered yourself, and you spoke.

"I'll stay." You dared to smile at him as you nodded, knowing that most days you would be able to put aside your worries and your insecurities. "Yeah, I'll stay... if you'll let me."

"Make yourself at home."

[obutsuwrites]

salt water (seamonster!shiggy x f!reader)

summary:  “Of course not! I like talking to you.” Inky black tentacles twitched under the curtain of waves. ‘She’d cower. Make herself as small as she needed to be; pathetic and crawling.’ Tenko grinned at the thought. She was nothing more than meat on a slab.  xxx or the time i write monster shiggy ft. ocean imagery warnings: dubcon, drowning, mind control, tentacle sexey times, vore, smut, oviposition word count: 4,468 taglist: @kaccatus @sadjealouswhore @tenaciousgothstudentauthor masterlist | tipjar | twitter | commission info

The ocean lapped against her knees in gentle waves. It was refreshing and cool; a morning breeze she wanted to submerge herself in and never leave. This was her sanctuary, her home. The ocean -- in its inky blackness -- was almost like a lover. The waves were little arms that entangled around her ankles and upper calves. Simple, harmless flirting until the woman finally took the plunge and allowed the ocean to swallow her whole. She would only tread lightly; growing up in a little sea-side shack carried the reality of her lover; silent waves could shift and evolve into violent tides. 

She squinted as the afternoon sun pierced her eyes. It sat high in the cloudless, cobalt sky. An orange giant that radiated such intense heat, despite the forecast claiming otherwise. The sun was hot against the small of her back; skin exposed and soft. The woman allowed her body to sink further into the salty brine. She shivered at the chill, but it was a welcome distraction from the humidity. As she waded further into the deep, bits of seaweed danced around her legs. Slimy and unpleasant. The woman shoved down her discomfort, it was only temporary. 

She swam apathetic laps. Her body was now accustomed to the chill. In the benign quiet, the woman’s mind began to wander. The sea allowed for more than just cooling off; peaceful and cerebral. After several soft loops, she rescinded herself to float atop the navy sea surf. The woman’s lazy gaze was glued to the sky. Her body was delicately rocked, a lullaby she wanted to submerge herself into for eternity. Sometimes, she wondered if the ocean was capable of violence. To her, it was nothing but serenity and placidity. The woman knew tales of drownings and bizarre, awful sea creatures… However, she had experienced neither within her rather mundane life. Fingers grasped at the azure water, eyes shifting to stare into the great abyss. Despite squinting, the woman couldn’t see to the bottom. She wondered if it was so deep that light simply didn’t refract. 

A crackle sounded off in the distance; the beginning of a storm, she noted. Storms were something she knew all too well. Humidity and the frigid ocean mixed together often to form thunderous, dark clouds that beat against her shack. Angry and fierce.  Eventually, the waves would pick up, as if to respond with equal force to the storm, like two lovers fighting. 

Reluctantly, she began her trek back to shore. Perhaps, she could watch the rain beat on her windows. The wind picked up; the smell of the sea working its way into her nose. Salty and fresh. However, seaweed was strong and wrapped around her ankles. This wasn’t unusual for the woman; the sea could be a difficult lover. The shore was still far away, not even within her reach. Her feet hadn’t even touched the smooth surface of rocks. Slight panic wove into her chest, the sensation tight and heavy. Kicking her legs, the woman tried to swim past the monstrous clump of plant matter. She had done this before. Seaweed wasn’t thick like this and despite her best efforts, her legs were still knotted in the dense foliage. 

The woman continued to kick her legs, the movements morphing into desperation and anxiety. This was foreign to her. The sea wasn’t a maze of fear and panic, yet here she was, arms flailing and face red. 

“H-help!” It was a futile scream; the beach today was empty and she was alone. The sea was going to swallow her and she was alone. Her mind raced with images of her barren skeleton nestled between dead plants and sunken ships. A bleak resting place. 

The sky twisted into a dark caricature of itself; bleak with clouds hiding the sun. Her terror was tangible now as sea foam bubbles seeped into her mouth. Coughs and spit erupted from the woman. Static portraits of her life played like a macabre theater. ‘No! Please no! I don’t wanna die!’ The ocean was a lover scorn; waves began to pick up. The woman feared her body would disappear beneath the current, but the seaweed kept her anchored. Safe. 

Her throat grew dry with cries that fell on deaf ears. This is how she would die; crushed beneath azure crests with an angry sky. She gave up and became complacent in her fate. Tears flowed freely down puffy, coral cheeks. 

Suddenly, she felt a long tendril wrap around her thigh. This material wasn’t seaweed, it was different. Spongey. Organic. The coil traveled down her leg and freed her lower form. 

Breath caught in her throat expanded into the salty, swampy air. “T-thank you!” 

Xx

Fire crackled and the air was balmy; the woman was determined to expunge any cold. Overcast clouds brought in a certain chill, which was only compacted by her waterlogged clothing. Her brassiere had started the slow process of becoming solid again; a fuzzy towel wrapped around jittery shoulders. She believed the suction cup lined tentacle was an octopus. 

“They can be quite helpful. Suction cups are made for -- for sticking.” Truthfully, the sentence was tangible and real for a simple reason; it felt more real. It was far too horrible to believe sea monsters had invaded her paradise. 

Xx

She awoke with a start. Electricity already burning obnoxiously in her veins. The thought was a joke at first; throw out food to the anonymous ocean critter that had rescued her. It was fair. She wanted to repay the kindness. No animal was suited for her sea excursionist. Her love was the ocean firstly; everything came in violent crashes next. Purely no room for animals. However, this being -- this animal. She needed to remind herself it was an animal. Animals can just be smart.

xx

“Like octopi. Or maybe -- maybe a squid.” ‘Octopi’ was a new word; something the woman picked up from long study sessions in the town library. The building was a crypt, dusty and decrepit. Relics from before the second war, chalky volumes of history and academics… but they held the most beautiful anatomical drawings. Precise lines formed into a web of a body on delicate paper. She wanted to rip them from their pages and exhibit the art upon her walls. It was a guilty feeling the woman had to bury. Deep.

Octopi were carnivores, which meant they ate meat. Things like fish, sharks -- even birds. On occasion, the invertebrate would drown their prey. She loathed the vulgar imagery of an octopus immersing a bird into her sea -- into the great blue only to disappear under murky depths. The mental painting seemed so far off -- so  distant from her benevolent savior. 

Xx

There was a certain click in her step, her movements jovial and careless. Her limbs were wire and ethereal. After a masochistic study session, the woman felt confident enough to pursue the octopus. The plan itself was half-baked, but she was… hopeful. Her wallet wouldn’t survive otherwise; she was too naive, trusting and allowed a butcher to sell her a suspiciously warm steak. Little flashes of the overripe meat squirming with maggots skipped through her mind. 

“I hope you like this!” 

She threw the steak into the ocean. A smile had eased onto her face. 

After several minutes a bitter call echoed from the sea. “Not this, stupid.” The voice was scratchy and harsh; like a sweater. Goosebumps developed and her lungs burned. 

‘What an unfortunate sound.’

Xx

Tenko wasn’t a beast per se. He was merely acting on instinct, but he wasn’t all bad. That idiot woman carried a delicious fragrance; her pores were just leaking it. His primal instincts demanded Tenko to clamp his beak over her clavicle. He wanted to peak at her flesh until only ribbons clung to her skeleton… but he was lonely. Tenko was lonely and needed a friend -- needed her. The woman’s cries seemed so inviting. She made pathetic little sounds that were like music to him. He decided to play along, in the hopes of revealing in her fear again. 

Women weren’t unknown to Tenko; they were little sacks of meat that nourished him. However, this wench was something entirely different. She didn’t belong within the predetermined hierarchy and Tenko absolutely fucking hated her for it. Her gestures were carefree and swaying; large hips on full display. The woman wench deserved to know her place. 

‘No one else would do it. It has to be me.’

Xx

An uncomfortable silence inched between them, the steak long gone. The realization wasn’t kind to her. This wasn’t an octopus; this was something worse. Something bad that could speak. Her skin felt slimy and dirty now. She rubbed at her ankles. Waiting for a response was becoming a real experience -- complete with the bells and whistles of anxiety. The woman’s back was on the sea. She refused to greet the monstrosity. 

“I’m… sorry. It’s been so long since I had company.” A soft reflection was in the voice; gentle regret. How could she resist? Tenko was being vulnerable now, if not a little sad. But it was necessary. Feigning humanity would lead his prey in with wide, innocent eyes. 

With a back turned, the woman took a step away from the benign waves. “You talk?” She didn’t want to ask anymore -- she didn’t want to engage the abnormality any further. 

A low whistle crept across the oceanic landscape. 

“Yes. Can we be f… friends?” 

Xx

‘Her little brain must weigh nothing,’ Tenko thought, ‘A stupid broad like her is lucky to even be alive.’ The mortal was braindead enough to put trust in him, he didn’t even have to beg. Well, he didn’t have to beg as much as he anticipated. Her vibrating fear could be felt even within the depths of his domain. Tenko found it pathetic, in all honesty, but saliva pooled at the thought of her. Naked. Afraid. All primed and ready to be devoured… ‘Such a delicate body. It’s really a shame I’ll leave blemishes.’ 

Xx

Within a week’s time, the raspy, sea-salt coated voice was the woman’s dearest friend. Her only friend. It was unnatural at first. The ocean wasn’t sentient, it couldn’t have a soul, and yet something would respond to her questions and ramblings. Always patient and kind hearted. She was curious if the voice was even a sea creature.

‘What if you’re the sea?’

Her mouth opened and closed, mimicking a question. She was curious if the voice had a name. There was certainly nothing offered up; the voice had demanded the woman never swim again -- never look into the great depths. At her sheepish request, the voice shook with rage that trembled and quaked in their words. It was the first time the woman remembered that this voice wasn’t human and maybe it didn’t -- maybe they didn’t function by the natural laws of man. 

A wave bumped against the beachfront. Her name carried off of the breeze, followed by a pause, and then, “What was your question?”

“It’s… uh, it’s stupid, really,” she replied, eyes stuck on her modest shack. Confidence was lacking in her voice; the woman now shrinking before Tenko.

The stench of her was in the water now; Tenko scrunched his face in response. Focusing on her was a part of the plan. His desire for the broad would be found eventually, but he needed to bite down any residual lust that floated around. Her smell was so pungent that it made Tenko’s stomach burn and twist. Like a heated wrench. 

He was growing bored. Impatient. Hunting was never a show like this. Hunting was hunting -- killing and eating with bits of flesh mixing with crimson. The sea looked best like that; bloody, a massacre of sin. Tenko should have eaten her a week before. She was stupid and within his grasp… but he let her go. A mistake he wouldn’t make twice. 

“Of course not! I like talking to you.” Inky black tentacles twitched under the curtain of waves. ‘She’d cower. Make herself as small as she needed to be; pathetic and crawling.’ Tenko grinned at the thought. She was nothing more than meat on a slab. 

His words of encouragement were like a shock to the system. Something was in those words, something the woman craved. Her chest tightened and words washed upon shore, “Can… can I see you?” 

It was a simple question, and yet Tenko hated it. He knew this day would come, but he prepared little in the way of comfort. His face twisted into a scowl as little angry bubbles surfaced. 

“Why? Aren’t you afraid? I can feel your tremors from here.” Tenko wanted to squash her curiosity. This game of cat and mouse shouldn’t end so abruptly. He wanted more play time with his food. Fear was a seasoning that couldn’t be wasted. A precious resource only for him. 

The ocean was quiet now, its rage worn down and tired. The woman looked out into the azure water and tried to gather her remaining courage. Tenko’s voice was unlike the kind tone she was accustomed to; his response was harsh and laced with seafoam. This wasn’t her disembodied companion. This was a creature.

“N-no,” she hesitated. Her words were anchored in her belly. She looked away from the azure abyss, fear creeping into her chest. The woman knew nothing of her companion -- only that he saved her. Surely, he couldn’t be some monstrous bundle of tentacles and eyes. He had to be more… human. 

Silence sat between them. Tenko began to impulsively curl his tentacles. He found the quiet annoying and somehow a little frightening. Perhaps his meal was reconsidering their arrangement. ‘You couldn’t,’ Tenko thought while the sun shrunk behind a cloud, ‘you’re too stupid.’ Befriending him -- feeling sorry for such a gluttonous horror was a fool’s mistake. His heart hummed at the thought of her bare and bloodied. 

The death of their conversation was awkward, if not heavy. Truthfully, the woman blamed herself for it. Feet nestled in warm sand; her mind straying back to Tenko. She knew he was beneath the oceanic canvas. Hidden away. ‘Hiding from me.’ Mournful eyes watched the sea. The day was dreary. No clouds. Sun scorned and resting. The sky held a drab palette; rainbows of blacks and grays formed into being. She wondered if the ocean was ever this ugly. 

Tenko came to his great conclusion; ‘I can eat your pea-sized brain now, can’t I? You’re probably stinking with guilt. So worried about your only friend.’ Slowly, Tenko lifted the tip of his beak into the air. Her pungent rot was like driftwood; moldy and earthy. She sickened him, but his body and mind weren’t one. Two muddled pieces that ached for both devouring her whole, and filling her disgusting guts with him. Tenko wanted to breed her -- watch his mewling little mortal stretch with his eggs.

Tenko’s stomach growled. 

“What -- what’s your name?”

His beak quickly retracted back into the salty brine. In his chest was a heart pounding against his rib cage. She was so close. She was so close. ‘Stupid and trustworthy. You’d do anything for a friend. You’d do anything… for me.’ Tenko realizes this and seizes his dinner bell, “T-Tenko. Can you come into the water?” Saliva pools at the back of his throat, “I’m lonely.”

The voice was heartbroken. His Tenko’s vocal cords were raspy, as if he gorged himself on salt water. A certain note of despair lingered in his sentence. The woman gave one last look into the vast blue before plunging her toes into saline waters.

It was as cold as the grave. Yet the coolness of it was relaxing. Hypnotizing. The ocean was calling out to her, its wet claws draped around her ankles, pleading with her to stay. She thought her ears caught a whisper from the depths; “Don’t go.” 

Everything was falling into his lap. First, she decided to trust him. Then she found comfort. Now, she belongs to him. Every chunk of flesh, every spec of marrow -- all his. He would suck her bones dry and drain her. ‘I’m going to devour you in the worst way.’

Her voice trembled with an alien sort of fear, “Tenko…” Water soaked into her dress, the cotton sticking to her shivering form. “Tenko, I’m scared.” Salt water was plugged into her nostrils. The strong scent was almost nauseating. There was a dull twinge in her heart. ‘Magical octopi,’ she chanted, ‘enchanted animal that speaks!’ Despite her conviction, salivation was unheard. The icy water rested just under her collarbone. Its gentle current nipped at her skin. She suppressed a shiver, keeping her legs kicking. The woman waited until something spongy -- familiar -- grabbed her calf. 

“You’re here.” The woman released a forgotten breath. Her chest was unraveling; the feeling of him was… comforting. This was her friend. ‘He wouldn’t hurt me.’ Her salt stained lips pitched into a grin.

Tenko envisioned violently dragging her squirming body. Little bubbles trailing behind, her last breaths. Gentle face painted into horror. He wondered if she would fight back; maybe pitifully grab at his tentacles? Tenko’s eyes widened in excitement, her legs sending waves. ‘Finally you made it, moron girl.’

His words were like a haunting chorus, “It’s okay,” her name was honey in the air, “Can… can you swim to me?” Tenko sounded cautious, ‘He’s worried about me.’ Her one friend -- her one true friend was concerned about her! The woman’s eyes were bright and alive. A smile played on her lips. Tiny butterflies felt like they were gathering in her chest. Tenko needed her. Needed his friend. The loneliness seemed to melt off while her legs worked against the sea, water splashing in every direction. Her body was numb; skin nothing more than drenched. She noted her dress was slowing her down. Tenko was leagues away -- almost impossible. Yet she persisted. 

His tentacle was the thread guiding her home -- to him. The rubbery flesh was a trail behind her. It was a reminder that Tenko was close, somehow obscured under blankets of briny water. Looking into the blue void made her stomach tangle together in a mess of anxiety. There was an unknown factor -- a certain fear to the ocean now.

Tenko held a delicate grip. ‘I can’t squeeze you to death just yet.’ He hoped the woman’s death rattles were soft, nothing like a dying creature. Tenko knew she would struggle and seafoam would kick into her lungs, but a part of him wanted her to coo at him. Make little creamy pleas. Stuck in his mirth, Tenko began to pull. The sensation was lost on his meal; her mind too preoccupied with determination. Her feet no longer tapped against slimy seaweed. Instead, the abyss greeted her. Negative space gathered. Nothing to keep the woman afloat except for her own flailing limbs.

A rather thrashing limb caught Tenko in the beak. Instinct took over as he yanked the woman. Aggressive and without tolerance. His beak was strong enough for her kick, but the accidental assault felt purposeful. Her lungs filled only once; to scream. Blue fluttered into her line of sight while bubbles erupted into view. Water rushed into her lungs. She managed a cough, salt in her nose. 

The woman fought against the pull. Waterlogged fingers slipping. She clawed at the tentacle as her expression froze in open-mouthed terror. Tenko wished he could see it, but the vibrations of her panicking body would have to do. He wanted to eat her panic. Swallow her whole and stare into the bloody waters she’d create. 

“St-stop… struggling so d-damn much,” forming a sentence was hard. This woman -- this squishy little mortal -- continued to fight. Tenko wished she would claw at scratch at him, fear added a certain spice to his meals, but her insensent kicking must stop.

Tenko releases the woman, her little head shooting up and bobbling amongst the current. Greedy lungs sucked in sour sea air. The saline burned down her throat, but she was relieved. ‘I was going to die. Tenko… Tenko wanted to kill me!’ The realization hits like a sandbag. She has to leave now. This creature, no, this monster was nothing but death. 

Before she can will her tired body, a melody drifts into her mind.

“Please don’t go.” He sounded so mournful. Grief laced into every word. 

She looks into the great blue before responding, “I have to.” Tears brim her eyes, making the world glassy. This was her only friend and yet he wanted to harm her. There was something dangerous to this creature. 

Tenko grew impatient. She should simply accept him as he is. This doesn’t need to be unnecessarily difficult… but she was making it difficult. Couldn’t this broad see Tenko only wanted to fill her half eaten, frail body with eggs? It’s a compliment, an implied attraction, and she just had to ruin it. Her little brain cannot even begin to comprehend the damage she’s done. 

With great effort, Tenko continued his heartbreaking colloquy, “I’m sorry. I… I didn’t m-mean it.” It’s burdensome to speak such lies, even more of a bother to project them into such an idiot. However, Tenko knew this woman had kindness tucked into her heart. She had no other choice but to forgive. “You want to see me, don’t you? The curiosity must be suffocating.”

She did… She had wondered what Tenko looked like; her mind’s eye wasn’t content with a mermaid. The woman had to see him in all of his glory. His voice was mesmerizing, like sharp ocean currents beating against rock. Her heart slowed to an acceptable pace. The organ no longer hammered into her. Her pulse wasn’t in her ears and the only thing in her stomach was an airy bit of hope. ‘Tenko probably hasn’t had any visitors before. I’m -- I’m his first.’ There was a strange comfort in being Tenko’s only friend. 

Something hard bumped against her leg. “Tenko?” She asked, voice small and soft. A vortex of salt water swirled underneath her as a head peaked from beneath a crest of waves. Tenko wasn’t quite as she imagined; her friend resembled a kraken more than a man. His beak was half-way submerged, stringy white hair clung to his worn face. He wore a gentle expression. Her eyes softened at his humanity. Tenko was so close she could smell him. The sharp scent of brine and seaweed permeated the air. A certain warmth settled into her belly. 

“Can I… touch you?” 

The woman nodded. His tentacle -- slimy now -- interlocked around her arm. The appendage was spongy and its suction cups held onto her with care. She melted into his touch while Tenko guided her into his bare chest. She looked up at him, big doe eyes that held nothing but admiration for the monster. ‘A pity,’ Tenko thought, ‘You didn’t really struggle, did you? You want to be full of my eggs.’ Tenko asserted this belief as another tentacle found the small of her back. Another snaked up her waist and landed on a clothed breast. She shivered in his embrace, the frigid water now soaked into her bones.

Ancient words danced in her mind, “Give yourself to me.” No emotion was behind her eyes, no hint of a human. Instead she steeled herself -- perfect and waiting for Tenko. She was a gift for him. Roughly, his tentacles roamed her body. His suction cups latched and unlatched onto bits of sodden flesh. She was mushy and delicate, like algae. Tenko could break apart her body, bone by bone, until she was dust stuck in his suction cups. A hushed mewl fell from her lips once Tenko brushed against a sensitive nipple. Her face was flushed and glistening. There was a crinkle in her eyes; a foreign ecstasy. The woman’s body hadn’t experienced such a fiery, electric sensation before.

“Don’t…” She buries her face in his chest, “don’t stop, Tenko.” It was too mortifying to allow such a divine creature see her like this. Body peppered with pink and chest heaving against him. She leaned into his touch. He kneaded her skin, spongy suction cups tweaking her nubs. Tenko could feel himself begin to swell, tentacles fat and aching. He looked down at her, drool trailing down his beak. 

An eager tentacle harshly grabbed her drenched garment and quickly discarded it to the sea. The woman’s body instinctively shivered, nerves still tender. “Stay still,” Tenko commanded as a tentacle slithered down her stomach, stopping at her waistband. 

“Please.” Her eyes are like saucers, innocent and begging. Tenko indulged and a tentacle stroked her wet cunt. The sloppy noise mixed with her insensent moans. It was a chorus of vulgarity. Tenko, however, made no sound. His vocal chords vibrated with animalistic grunts as he explored her body. Another obscene groan finally encouraged the beast; a single tentacle slipped between her thighs. 

Her pudgy walls gripped his swollen tentacle like a vice. “S-slow down, Tenko.” The woman felt violated. Tenko was going too fast, not allowing for rest. His tentacle plunged into her, prodding her womb. “Stop! It hurts!” The woman grit her teeth while trying to stifle a cry. 

“Quit whining,” Tenko sneered, sharp beak biting down on her collarbone. Iron flooded Tenko’s mouth and a whine played on his lips. She was sweeter than anything -- anyone he had tasted before. Her tainted scent was nothing compared to the meat before him. A piercing yelp sounded from the woman. The shrillness of it only spurred Tenko; his beak gnawing at her open wound. 

An orgy of violence and bliss swirled in her mind, twisting into one. Divinity itself was biting into her and marking her as his own. His fat tentacle stretched her to an almost inhuman degree; her face sweaty and mouth open. Drool pooled into her wound and mixed with Tenko’s spit. She wanted to reach up and touch it, feel the feral brand he left. She adjusted to his size, an unfamiliar hotness gathering between her legs. 

“F-faster, please.” 

Another ethereal voice called to her, carried from the breeze, “You want me to fill you with eggs, don’t you? Say it.”

Dribble spat from her mouth, “Tenko, I want -- please make me fat with your eggs! Breed me!” Painfully, Tenko hammered into her doused cunt, pushing against her cervix, the spongy flesh almost like a pillow. Welcoming. Warming. Wanting him. Her pussy fit perfectly around his engorged tentacle, milking him for every bit of slimy pre-cum. 

“Take my eggs, broad,” Tenko growls as a miry egg sloshes into her womb. 

A cry permeates the air. “Too big, Tenko. Too big,” the woman heaves. Her mind swimming with one simple phrase; “You’ll be such a good moma.”

[atlafan]

She Doesn’t Like Him

Hello! This is my entry for @majorharry‘s 20K fic celebration! This was such a fun idea, and I decided to use a few of the prompts to help move the story along. “I know you’re busy, but…can we talk?” “I’m pretty good at minding my own business. You should try it sometime.” “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” “Cover up, please.” and “Well, maybe I don’t want to just be your friend.” I didn’t put any smut in this, for once in my life, I didn’t know who would end up reading this, so I wanted to keep it a little more tame than I usually do. Plus, who doesn’t love fluff, right? Hope you enjoy! This is an office worker!Harry AU. 

Warnings: angst and fluff

Words: 4.4K

Harry got along great with all of his coworkers, well, almost all of them. For some reason or another, he just couldn’t crack Y/N’s code. She was short with him, barely ever looked at him, and if she did, the eye contact was minimal. She’d look at his forehead or nose. He wasn’t sure if did something to piss her off, or what. No one else was bothered by him. Harry was one of those guys that could usually look on the Bright-side, find a silver lining, and everyone appreciated that about him. Once in a while if he said something optimistic in meeting, he would catch Y/N rolling her eyes or shaking her head.

The really interesting thing was that Y/N was nice to literally every single other person in the office. She was bubbly and personable. Harry just brought out this unpleasant side to her, and she hadn’t even noticed she was acting that way until he finally worked up the courage to bring it up. Harry didn’t want to work in a hostile environment, and he thought it was best to go straight to the source before talking with his supervisor about it. One afternoon he decides to knock on her door.

“Come in!” She says, not looking up from her computer.

“Hey.” He says as he slips inside. “I know you’re busy, but…can we talk?”  

She looks up from her computer with a scowl on her face. She sighs heavily and gestures for him to sit. He does so and looks at her, waiting for her undivided attention.

“Sorry, just let me get this email out.” She says as she types even faster than she was. Once she clicks send, she turns her body so she’s fully facing Harry. “What’s up?”

“I’m just going to be blunt…do you have a problem with me?”

“What? Of course not, why?”

“It’s just…I feel like every time I’m around, you flip a switch. It’s like you don’t like me or something…”

“Oh.” She blushes slightly out of embarrassment.

“In fact, I think this is the most you’ve ever even looked at me.” He frowns. “If I did something…I don’t know what it could have been…but would you tell me?”

“Harry, I’m so sorry…I think I’ve been a bit rude…subconsciously.” She bites her bottom lip and looks away. “I’ve been dealing with a lot lately, and I’ve been taking it out on you, which is wrong, and unprofessional.”

“To be fair, you’ve been like this with me since we’ve both been here. I don’t think you’ve ever even smiled at me.”

“Do I need to smile because I’m a woman, or are you someone that just needs the validation?” Harry’s mouth falls open. “I see you, Harry. You float through this halls, bounce from office to office, cracking jokes. It makes me wonder when you actually ever get any work done.” She leans forward and rests her chin on her palm.

“You’re not like this with everyone…just with me.”

“I apologize if I’ve been cold towards you, really I am. I’ll try not to be, okay?”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” She graces him with a weak smile.

“I hope you don’t just think I’m a goof off, I really do work hard.”

“I’m sure in your own way you do.” She sighs and turns her attention back to her computer. “Are we done, I got about fifteen emails alone just from sitting here with you.”

“Um…yeah, we’re done…thanks for the chat.”

“Anytime.” She says without looking at him.

He leaves her office and closes the door behind him. What she said was starting to seep in. Did others see him as lazy or a clown? Harry worked really hard, so what if he would go chat with others when he needed a break? He also wondered what it was she was dealing with. He hoped she wasn’t alone with whatever it was. He was no stranger to therapy. Harry saw someone once a month or more if he needed it. Once he’s back in his own office he sits down and looks out the window. At least she said she would try to be nicer.

//

Y/N’s version of being nicer, was avoiding Harry at all costs, which he hated. He was a people person, and it killed him when people didn’t like him. He knew it was stupid to think that way, but that’s anxiety. He saw her in the break-room, grabbing her lunch out of the fridge. He decided to spark up a conversation. He thought maybe she would like him more if she got to know him better.

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Hello.” She says, putting her container into the microwave.

“How was your weekend?”

“Fine.” She wasn’t looking at him.

“That’s good.” He stands up and walks over to her. “I went to the movies with one of my best mates, haven’t seen him in a while. Have you seen any good movies lately? I like going when I can. Sometimes a few of us from here go, maybe you could-“

“You know something?” She looks at him now, just as her food is finishing. “I’m pretty good at minding my own business. You should try it sometime.” She snatches her food, and brushes by him as she walks out.

Harry sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair as he watches her leave. A couple of other colleagues walk in to have their lunches.

“Harry! Haven’t seen you all day.” Lora pouts. “Come sit with us.”

“Think I just lost my appetite.” He frowns.

“What’s wrong?” Amy asks, as she sits down. Harry sits with her and Lora.

“It’s Y/N. She hates me.”

“Y/N?!” They say at the same time.

“Y/N doesn’t hate anyone.” Lora says. “She’s way too nice to hate anyone.”

“Well, apparently she’s nice to everyone but me.”

“Have you tried talking to her?” Amy asks.

“Yeah, we spoke Friday, and she said she’d try to be nicer to me, but…she just snapped at me out of nowhere.”

The women look at each other. They knew Y/N for a while now, they never really noticed her attitude towards Harry, but now that he was bringing it up, things were starting to click.

“Is it because I’m one of the few guys here?”

“No.” Lora squeezes Harry’s forearm. “She likes men plenty. I’m sure things will get better. She really is lovely.”

Harry felt better after speaking with the ladies at lunch. He usually enjoyed gossiping with them as it was, but it was nice to be able to vent a little. He was standing at his desk, rocking out to some music, working on some data when Y/N stormed into his office and slammed the door shut. It startles him, and he pauses his music immediately. She was fuming.

“Y/N, is everything-“

“Stop, just stop!” She charges towards him. “I told you to mind your own business, didn’t I?”

“Y, yeah you did…”

“So what do you do? You run off to Amy and Lora, your little mother hens to tell them I haven’t been all that nice to you. I stay away from you, I keep it professional, I do not to be your best friend.” She crosses her arms.

“I never said we needed to be best friends, I just wanna know why you’re literally nice to everyone here but me.”

“I’m getting divorced!”

“I—I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t! Because I didn’t want you or anyone else to know! But now, I just had to explain to them why I’ve been a little pissy towards you. You wanna get to know me, Harry?! Wanna know why we’re getting divorced?! My husband, whom I’ve known for ten years, my best friend in the entire world is gay. He’s just come to terms with his sexuality, and I have to be okay with it and support him! It’s not that I’m not, I’m very happy for him. He’s free and open to live his life as he wants to now, but now I’m left to pick up the pieces. I want to hate him, but I can’t!” Tears were welling up in his eyes. “I almost wish he had just cheated on me or something, but no, he’s gay. And you know what my family had to say about it? All they said was how stupid I was. How could I not have known? Obviously I didn’t know! If I did, I wouldn’t have married him after three years of dating! He feels terrible of course, but he’s been too busy going out and meeting men to notice or care that I’m crumbling from the inside. So you’ll have to excuse me that I’m not jumping at the chance to laugh at one of your stupid fucking jokes!”

Harry stood there stunned as she stood there catching her breath. It was clear she had been bottling all of this up. He felt terrible for her. There was a lot of turmoil going through her. He wanted ask what all of this had to do with him, but maybe he could get to the bottom of that later.

“Let’s get a drink after work.”

“What?! Are you crazy? What makes you think I would possibly want to go anywhere with you?”

“Y/N.” He sighs. “Swallow some pride and let me take you out for a drink after work. You seem like you need to let out some steam, and if I need to be the target, I’d like to have a shot in front of me.”

It was the most adult thing Y/N ever heard Harry say. He was actually being serious.

“Okay.”

After work the two decide to meet at a local pub. They sit down at the bar, and Harry orders two shots of Jameson. They clink their glasses and take the shots.

“You know, I actually think I needed this.” She smirks at the empty small glass, and Harry orders two more.

“So…no judgement or anything, but walk me through your marriage.”

“Well, we met when we were freshmen in college, and became fast friends. He was my best immediately. We were always together, and then one day he kissed me. I was actually dating someone else at the time, so he apologized and said it was because he was drunk.” She shrugs. “My boyfriend and I at the time ended up breaking, up and that was when he and I got together. We were together for a few years before we got married. We’ve only been married a year.” She sighs and takes her next shot. “Keep ‘em coming.” She tells the bartender.

“How did he tell you?”

“He made me this really nice dinner.” She smiles and then her eyes well up. “I thought he was going to tell me he was finally ready to start trying for kids, but…I was wrong. He told me that…I basically kept him alive, that I was the only person that could make him smile, but something was missing. He grew up in a really conservative home, and even when he went to college he still had so much repressed. He told me he wanted to be with men. He didn’t cheat on me or anything, he said he’d never hurt me like that, but he works with a few gay men, and he was talking to them more and more. Things sort of clicked for him one day. We just finalized the paperwork over the weekend, and on Friday I have to leave work early to go meet with our lawyers to finalize things.” Her voice cracks. “We have to sell our house, and I haven’t figured out where I’m gonna go yet. It all still doesn’t feel real.”

“I’m so sorry, that’s a really tough situation.”

“It’s been so weird, packing up all our memories. And I honestly couldn’t tell! Whenever we…well…you know…he was always very passionate.” She blushes and wipes a few tears away. “We have a glass of wine each night as we pack things up. Sometimes we laugh and other times it’s just silent. He feels terrible, and I’ve been trying not to make him feel more guilty.”

“Where’s he going?”

“He found some guys to move in with…in a different part of the city.” She sighs. “I suppose it’s better to not have brought a child into it.”

“Can I ask…why you’ve been taking things out on me?”

“You…you’re just like him.” She looks away. “Not physically, but you have the same exact sense of humor. I picked up on it early on, and maybe at first I liked it, but when things started to go wrong you just started to piss me off. That, and you’d always be so cheery. It was annoying…” She takes another shot and so does he. “I’m sorry, Harry. It was a stupid reason not to be nice to you and to be nice to everyone else.”

“You’re going through a lot, I understand.” He puts a hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone else.” She looks at him. “I see a therapist once a month. I have my own issues. She’s amazing. I could give you her card, you need someone to talk all this through with.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She sighs. “Talking to you has made me feel a little better…guess talking with a stranger is good.”

“Hey, I’m not a total stranger. Despite your bad attitude we do work well together.” He grins.

“Don’t push it.” She smiles and shakes her head. “This was much needed. I didn’t know Jameson could go down so smoothly.” She was starting to slur her words.

“So, you said you weren’t sure where you were going to live?”

“I’ve been looking at some apartment, but I’m bummed. I’ve really liked living in a house. Maybe I could rent a detached condo or something.”

“This may sound a bit forward, but I actually rent a house. It’s a rent to own situation. It’s spacious, and I could honestly use a roommate.”

“Harry, you’re not seriously asking me to move in with you.”

“You’d have your own bathroom. We’d just be sharing the kitchen and laundry…and the living room, oh, and I guess the-“

“Why are you being so nice to me? I’ve been so awful, and-“

“Because I’m a firm believer in treating people with kindness. Plus, I wouldn’t mind my monthly payments going down. You’re used to living with a guy too, shouldn’t be too weird for you.”

“I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

“Sure you have.” He smiles. “You’re sure as hell not going to move in with anyone else from work. And I can only guess your parents have offered, but that’s not an option for you is it.”

“Dear god.” She pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger.

“Let me know when you can move, I’m more than happy to help.”

//

Y/N couldn’t believe that she was moving in with Harry, but she really had no other choice. She sure as shit wasn’t going to move in with her parents, and all of her close friends were married with kids. She couldn’t afford to live on her own, nor would she want to. Much like Harry, she was a people person. She’d go crazy if she lived alone.

Harry helped her move and everything. Got her things settled, explained how the washer and dryer worked, as if she didn’t already know, and he explained how he liked things organized in the fridge. She thought it was interesting how particular he was. She even started seeing the therapist he recommended, and she was doing better. She kept in touch with her ex-husband, but she told him they needed some time apart. She needed time to fall out of love with him.

Y/N and Harry were having a ball at work now, and it made him so happy. They had way more in common than she thought, and she loved getting to gossip with him after work in their now shared home. Things weren’t even awkward! She was grateful she had her own bathroom, and they both seemed to be on different laundry schedules. One night she was sitting in her room, watching some TV when she spilled some soda on her shirt.

“Oh, shit.” She groans. She peels the shirt off, and puts on a new one. She puts her robe on and heads down to the laundry room. She stops short when she sees Harry in there, only in a pair of boxers, tight boxers. “Cover up, please.” She says as she turns away.

“Y/N!” He practically shrieks. “I’m so sorry!” He snatches some sweatpants and a t-shirt and puts them on right away. “I’m decent.” She turns back around to look at him. “Sorry about that. You don’t usually do your laundry at this time.”

“I know, I, uh, spilled and, um…”

“Oh, let me take a look at that.” He takes the shirt from her. “I’ve got some stain fighter, I can throw this in with my next load if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m already putting some stuff in, not a problem.”

“Thanks.”

He smiles at her and sprays some of the stain fighter on the spot before tossing it in with his things. He presses the button and sits up on top of the dryer, grabbing his book.

“Do you always just sit in here? It’s not like you’re in an apartment building.” She smirks.

“Old habit, I suppose. To be honest the sounds of the machines are sort of calming, and it gives me a chance to catch up on my reading.”

“Oh.” She nods.

“Does that need to be hung up or can it go in the dryer?”

“It can just go in the dryer, it’s a bed shirt.”

“You were getting ready for bed?”

“I was just hanging out, watching TV.”

“You should watch TV with me more. We eat dinner together.”

“Yeah, and then I like having time to wind down, just be with myself, you know?”

“Oh, right, yeah.”

“But I like knowing you’re in the house.”

He smiles at her and puts his glasses on, opening his book to where he had dog-eared it. She thanks him again for washing his shirt, and that was that. When she gets back up to her room she tries not to feel flustered when she thinks about the small glimpse she got of his body. He was littered with tattoos, and she had absolutely no idea. Sure, she had seen the ones on his arms, but on his torso? His thigh? Y/N always liked tattoos. She didn’t have any of her own, but she really liked them on men, for some reason.

The next morning, her shirt was folded on top of the dryer. She smiles and brings it up to her room to put away. Sometimes in the morning, Y/N could faintly hear Harry singing in his shower. He sang everything, nothing was off limits. Sometimes it was Gary Pucket and the Union Gap, and other times it was The Backstreet Boys. After living together for a few months, she noticed he would sing certain songs depending on his mood. Lately, they had all been love songs. She wondered if a new woman had come into his life. It made her happy to know Harry was happy.

She was making some scrambled eggs in the frypan when he comes downstairs. He was still humming whatever song he was singing before.

“Want some eggs?” She asks.

“That’d be great, thanks.” He smiles at her. “What’s your Saturday look like?”

“Just hanging out for a bit, and then…well…I don’t know. I’ve been invited to a party tonight, but I’m not sure if I want to go.”

“Why not?”

“It’s at Dave’s…”

“You’ve started speaking more?”

“We have.” She nods and scoops some eggs onto a plate for him. “I miss him, he was my best friend. Him and his roommates are having a big party, and he really wants me to come. I just don’t know if I could walk in there alone.”

“Hello!” He waves to her. “I love parties, I’ll go with you.” He sticks his fork into the eggs and takes a bite. “Delicious as always.”

“Thanks, and…you don’t already have plans?”

“Not really.” He shrugs. She doesn’t quite believe him.

“You really wanna go?”

“I do.” He smiles. “It’ll be fun.” He looks down at his chipped nails. “Should probably fix these up.”

Y/N giggles to herself as she watches Harry walk away. He could get frantic when he needed to go somewhere. She found his little quarks to be charming. Whatever woman was now in his life was a lucky lady.

//

“You look really nice by the way.” He says on the drive there. She was wearing a black dress, nothing special, she thought.

“Thanks.” Her leg was shaking. His large hand reaches for her knee.

“Are you nervous?”

“A little.”

“You can hold my hand the entire time if you want.”

“You’re the best, Harry, thank you.”

Once they get to Dave’s she takes a deep breath, and they go inside.

“Y/N!” He practically says in tears, kissing her on the cheek. “You look wonderful. I’m so glad you came.” He straightens up when he sees Harry. “And who is this?”

“I’m Harry.” He smiles and shakes Dave’s hand. “We live together.”

“Oh?” He smiles and Y/N and gives a wink.

“It’s not what you think.” She chuckles. “Come on.” She loops her arm through his. “I need some wine.”

Dave leads her into the house and introduces her to the new people in his life. After a couple of glasses of wine she felt perfectly fine. Her and Dave were laughing like old times. Harry was mingling with the other people. He would glance over at Y/N to make sure she was alright. The house was packed with people, and he sort of wanted to get her alone. He notices that she’s gone out on the balcony for some air, so he follows her.

“Hey, stranger.” He says to her.

“Sorry, I left you completely alone in there.”

“No problem, found plenty of people to talk to. Although, I have to admit, I really like talking to you.”

“I like talking to you too.” She smiles. “Now that I’ve had some liquid courage, I have to ask, who is it?”

“Who’s who?” He chuckles.

“The girl you’re madly in love with.”

“Wh…what are you talking about?”

“I hear you singing in the mornings, you’re repertoire has been nothing but love songs lately. So, who’s the lucky lady?”

“Oh, Y/N.” Harry shakes his head. “There’s no one new.” She looks at him confused.

“Then why all the love songs?”

“I’m definitely in love, you were right about that, but I haven’t met anyone.” He steps closer to her and takes one if her hands in his. Her heart nearly stopped.

“We’re friends.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to just be your friend.”

“How…I mean…when did you start feeling this way?”

“A month ago.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “We were so in sync when you first moved in, it was great. Then one morning you made extra toast and bacon and eggs. You just…made me breakfast, out of nowhere. It was so nice. I was really happy that you had started being nicer to me, and then I just realized that you in general made me happy.” He uses his free hand, that wasn’t squeezing hers, to tuck some hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to feel the same way, maybe it’s just some silly crush, but I think you’re really special. You’ve been through a lot, and Dave’s really lucky to have your heart. I guess I’m just hoping you’re ready to give it to someone else.”

“Oh, Harry.”

She wraps her arms around him, and he does the same with her. They hold each other close for a little while.

“You have so much love in your own heart, and you really want to give it to me?” She asks.

“I do, if you’ll let me.”

“I think I could be open to it. I’ve been so happy living with you. To think I used to be so mean.” She pouts up at him , and he thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “Would you kiss me?”

“You want me to?”

“Yes.”

He smiles and leans down. His nose brushes against hers before their lips meet. She tasted like the wine she had been sipping on, and he didn’t mind one bit. Her hands tugged at his hips to pull him closer. His lips were soft, and she wanted more. He cups one of her cheeks to deepen the kiss. His tongue swipes along her bottom lip, and she opens up for him. At first maybe just to take a breath, but when he licks into her mouth, she’s not mad about it. Her tongue meets his, only for a moment, before she pulls away. She smiles up at him, and he’s beaming down at her.

“And to think I didn’t want to come tonight.” She laughs.

“We would have kissed eventually, I’m sure of it.” He grins and she swats a hand at his chest.

“Oh, shut up, and order our uber.”

“You wanna go so soon?”

“Hmm, stay here or go home and make out?” She holds up both of her hands as if she has weights in them. “Seems like the latter wins.”

Harry laughs and kisses her cheek. They both go back inside and say goodbye to everyone. They get into the uber and head home. Y/N felt really lucky. Over the last few months she’s been able to get to know Harry really well. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t like him. She had no idea he had these feelings for her, but she was delighted it was her he was singing about. Even though going through a divorce sucked, and she had to grieve over her long gone relationship with Dave, he was living his best life, and now, so was she. Y/N didn’t know what the future would hold with Harry, but she was starting to believe that everything happened for a reason. As he pulled her closer to his side and kissed the top of her head in the car, she knew that everything in her adult life was leading her to him.

[sxfterhearts]

53. [4:07 pm]

➳ pairing: yugyeom x reader

➳ genre/warnings: fluff fluff fluff, baker!au, baker!yugyeom, exchange student!y/n

➳ word count: 2,040 words

➳ summary: “Sit down, I’ll get it.”

➳ author's note: rach-stop-mentioning-food-in-every-single-timestamp-challenge: failed. just the thought of baker!yugs and bread has me feeling all soft and gooey inside. which is why i whipped this one up! it has been a phat minut since i last wrote so yea :”) (also i should mention italicised are korean!!) regardless i hope this will help brighten up your day a little!! sending many warm hugs xx

//

Your phone screeched from its resting place on the other side of your room, signalling the start of your day. It was strategically placed atop your wooden, old-fashioned dresser, with the sole purpose of motivating you to get out of bed and turn the damn thing off.

With a groan, you stretched all four of your limbs, releasing a satisfied yawn as your joints popped after a good nights’ rest.

It was late afternoon. The rays of sunshine splattered deep orange and gold as it sneaked past the cracks the half-open blinds, painting your tiny studio apartment with lazy signs of life.

You dragged your sleep-ridden body to the dresser, still reluctant to start the day after what was an immensely taxing Friday night. Having just arrived in this bustling Korean city a mere two weeks ago, you were somewhat proud of yourself for landing a part-time job to support yourself when you started your semester of exchange. The only problem was, it happened to be a bartending job in a rowdier part of Seoul, commonly patronised by sleazy middle-aged men and their younger lady companions.

It wasn’t like you had much of a choice, anyways. Your Korean was still very much at an elementary level, which didn’t prove to be a hindrance in the bar you worked at. Most of the drinks were named in English, and the owner of the bar, a surprisingly kind, motherly lady in her sixties, paid you well above the minimum wage.

Still, it was your second Friday shift ever, and it clearly took its toll on you. Staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you cringed. The eyebags under your eyes were so dark it could’ve easily been mistaken as a smoky-eye look gone wrong; your lips were awfully chapped and an alarming shade of red, while a few nasty pimples threatened to break through the surface of your skin.

In other words, you looked like a wreck.

Grabbing your phone, you checked the time. Ten minutes past four. Oh no, you winced internally. You were going to be very late if you didn’t leave your house in the next fifteen minutes. As though an internal switch flipped on, you turned the shower to full blast and stepped inside, sucking in your teeth as the cold water splashed against your skin.

In eight minutes flat, you were tugging on your beat-up sneakers and dashing for the elevator in your only pair of clean, non-alcohol-stained jeans and a plain white t-shirt that you conveniently picked off the pile of dry clothes on your sofa. You jammed the down button a couple of times, all while checking the time on your phone.

“Shit,” You cursed under your breath. 4:19. You couldn’t wait any longer.

Throwing all caution to the wind, you sprinted down the fire escape and did not stop for a single breath until you reached the final destination: a charming little bakery across the road from your apartment.

Rushing to the bakery just before closing time had become a habit for you. Amidst the chaos of moving and finding your feet in this new city, the bakery and its never-ending stream of patrons were your source of stability. Not only was it less busy and crowded during the evening, but it was also much easier for you to snag a couple of good bargains in the form of randomly-packaged, discounted breads.

The fact that the cute baker was the last one in store and in charge of closing up was just an added bonus.

//

A high-pitched, annoying chime broke him out of his daze. With a groan, Yugyeom straightened his slumped figure and stretched his arms above his head, releasing a satisfied sigh as his backbone cracked.

It was late afternoon. The rays of sunshine splattered deep orange and gold as it flooded through the drawn, white lacey curtains, painting his grandfather’s bakery with calm and relief; a peaceful conclusion. The end of daylight was drawing near.

He wiped a stray trail of saliva off the corner of his mouth before sucking on a mint. Checking the clock that hang above rack upon empty rack which usually contained baked goods, his palms inexplicably grew clammy.

4:27, Yugyeom mused. He shook his head to clear his spiralling thoughts. Keep it together, dummy. Just because she came the past few days doesn’t mean that she’ll come today too. She has her own life, her own friends, maybe even a boyfri-

Oh?

Just as his mind was about to veer off course and crash into the thorny garden of unrequited love, Yugyeom caught sight of a blurry figure at the corner of his eyes. Intrigued, he stood up straight and watched as you appeared in front of the bakery’s double doors. For a few seconds, you simply clutched your knees and huffed and puffed. Yugyeom could barely stop the shit-eating grin that split across his face and had to bite down hard on his bottom lip to avoid looking like a fool.

Then, you did the unexpected. From the back pocket of your jeans, you pulled out your lip balm and applied it on your lips, using the bakery’s glass window as a mirror. At that, Yugyeom threw his head back in a hysterical fit of laughter.

It was hard for him to explain the feeling in his chest, really. The first time you walked through the doors of the bakery, eyes twinkling with pure wonder and amazement as you browsed the array of baked goods like how a girl would admire a display of diamond rings, he was screwed. You captivated his interest as you fumbled for the right number of coins to pay for your discounted breads, tongue stuck out and head tilted adorably while doing so. He gave you, the damsel in distress, a helping hand, by laying all your coins out on the counter and ordering them from lowest to highest value. Probably not the most helpful of gestures, but Yugyeom liked to tell himself that he was performing his civic duty by welcoming a visitor of Korea through non-verbal currency explanations and an introduction to the locals’ favourite breads, pastries and drinks. That evening, the two of you sat on the high table by the window, slowly savouring melon breads, injeolmi toasts, ang butter or red bean butter breads and an assortment of cream cheese breads. While the breads were wonderfully fluffy and the sweetness was at an acceptable level, Yugyeom instructed you to wash it down with an iced Americano.

Since then, the mere thought of the bakery, going to the bakery, its breads and pastries, its drinks and Yugyeom coated your insides with sweetness. Admittedly, the reason why you kept visiting the bakery was to create more memories with Yugyeom and ride the amazing sugar rush you felt whenever you were around him.

After rearranging your hair for the nth time, you bravely pushed open the doors and walked in at 4:29pm.

“Hello!” You called out in Korean as you waved at him, a wide smile plastered on your lips. There was an obvious language barrier (you with your kindergarten-level Korean and him with his Game of Thrones-standard of English), but it wasn’t obvious. The two of you came up with creative ways to break it down.

“Hi Y/N! Sit down. I’ll get it.” Yugyeom answered in English, emerging from behind the counter with his trusty English-Korean dictionary and a matcha latte he prepared in anticipation of your arrival. He walked towards you with an air of confidence, reminding you of a model in a fashion show despite wearing his typical slacks and white button-up, with sleeves rolled up and cross drop-earrings adorning his ears. Yugyeom quickly set the items down before pulling out a chair, nodding towards it to encourage you to sit.

You muffled a giggle at his gentlemanly actions, but complied, nonetheless. You glanced over to the boy, sipping on the creamy drink as he retrieved two large plates from the cake fridge. Sure, the assortment of cakes should have been the main attraction, but your eyes drifted and settled on the stern look of concentration on his face and his prominent collarbones peeking out of his shirt. Unbuttoned, you assumed, as he was going to be off work soon.

You were halfway through the drink when Yugyeom returned to the table. He noticed this and didn’t pass up the opportunity to tease you about it. “Is it really good?”

“Thirsty. I just woke up.” You admitted, cheeks heating up in slight embarrassment.

Yugyeom’s wholehearted laughter filled the entire bakery.

“H-hey! Bad boy… Mean…”

“No, I…” Yugyeom stifled another round of laughter as he tried to pull himself together. “Cute. You wake up, come to see me in bread house.”

“Not ‘bread house’, ‘bakery’.”

“Ah, thank you. Bakery.” He tested the word on his lips, getting used to the pronunciation. “Bakery…”

“What are these?”

Yugyeom handed you a small cake fork while taking a seat. “Here. This plate is for tarts, and this one is for cakes. The tarts have the same filling – custard. But we use different fruits, like strawberries, berries, grapes and peaches. Whatever’s in season, really. Strawberries and cherry tarts are really popular in winter. Try some!” He reverted back in Korean whenever he was explaining, which was a great opportunity for you to pick up new vocabulary.

It was also a fantastic opportunity to try delicious pastries. You rotated through the entire plate painted in shades of pinks and green, taking a bite of each tart. Yugyeom just sat there, head in his palms, and admired the slight changes in your expression whenever you tried a new flavour. As creepy as it sounds, watching you eat the food he prepared was gradually becoming his favourite pastime.

“Cherry! That one is the best! It’s…” You quickly reached for the dictionary, softly muttering to yourself as you thumbed through the pages. “Here, acid. Acid, not too sweet. The strawberry one too.” Your eyes crinkled at their edges as they met his intrigued orbs, proudly smiling at yourself for learning a new word today.

“The word you’re looking for is ‘acidity’. ‘Acid’ is for chemistry.”

“Acidity?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Yugyeom reached over, his huge palm caressing the top of your head before ruffling your hair. You pouted and feigned annoyance, all while your heart squeezed and pounded away in your chest.

“Hey…” You protested weakly.

Yugyeom’s hand retreated. He placed it on the table, right next to your smaller ones. The distance between your hands taunted him; tempted him to close the gap and intertwine your fingers with his. Honestly, Yugyeom wasn’t used to this; wasn’t used to feeling like his insides were going to explode. His mouth opened and closed several times as he pondered his next move, wondering whether it would overstep your boundaries.

But then you stared at him in anticipation with your beautiful brown orbs, innocent and confused, as your lips wrapped around the straw of your matcha latte. Your gaze asked him an unspoken question, urging him on.

Yugyeom dragged your chair closer his, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from you. He rested both of his palms on top of your knees, gaining your full attention. “I like…” Yugyeom paused, catching his bottom lip between his pearly whites as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards. “I like this time with you.”

The soft giggle was purely involuntary, you swore to him afterwards. Yet, as you watched his expression flicker into one of panic, you were quick to cast out his worries. “No, no! Don’t get me wrong. Did you mean, you like spending time with me?”

“Ah, I was trying to be romantic. Stupid English…” Yugyeom cursed under his breath in Korean, unaware that you were familiar with the word ‘romantic’ due to the hours you spent (wasted) binging Korean dramas. “Yes, I do.” He said while squeezing your kneecaps in affirmation.

You had to remind yourself time and time again to keep calm in the presence of this charming man and his magical hands. “Me too, Yugyeom. You’re my favourite time of the day.”

Needless to say, your afternoon ritual continued for weeks and months to come.

[theweasleysredhair]

The Way You Look At Her [S.B.]

Character: Sirius Black

Word Count: 3674

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Maybe there really is a fine line between hate and love.

Disclaimer: Gif isn’t mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: Guess who’s backk! And with a cheesy, probably all-over-the-place Sirius fic. Enjoy!

+ + + + +

It was nearing 4pm; The Three Broomsticks was as busy as you’d ever seen it. But then, it was a Hogsmeade weekend and cold outside - of course everyone would want cover from the snow. You pulled your half full butterbeer to you and hoped no one would remember it was your turn to battle your way through the swarms of Hogwarts students and Hogsmeade residents just to get to the bar to buy more drinks.

A pretty bar maid passed by the table you were sat at, taking the empty glasses that had piled up in the middle, leaning forward to grab the last glass before weaving back through the people standing and laughing around.

“I just can’t believe that in a few months time, we’ll be leaving Hogwarts for good!” Lily said, shaking her head and frowning a bit. You glanced over at your red-headed best friend and nodded, “I know, it’s gonna be so sad knowing we’re not going back in September.” If you were being truly honest, none of you knew if you’d actually even be alive come September, due to the impending war and rise of Voldemort and his death eaters.

Sat beside Lily, James wrapped his arm around her shoulders. You’d never known them to be so happy, and you were so glad they had found each other. There were a few bumps in the road, but the couple had finally gotten together a few months back and had been the cutest couple at Hogwarts.

Which should make you happy. In fact, this whole afternoon would’ve been amazing, if not for the man sat two seats away from you, between Remus and Marlene.

He sat there, wearing his worn leather jacket, fingers curled around his butterbeer glass as he smirked at something James said, looking like a goddamn snack. Arsehole.

You scowled, looking down at your drink. Sirius Black was the bane of your existence, a plague in your otherwise half-decent world. A handsome, god-like plague, but a plague all the same.

“Another round?” You heard him announce as he looked around the table. “We better get going soon actually,” Remus noted, checking the time, “We’re due to head back to school soon.”

“C’mon, live a little, Moony! We all know we could just sneak back whenever we want. Let’s have another and wait for the snow to pass,” Sirius said as he stood up. Remus grumbled something inaudible under his breath, before replying, “Fine, suit yourself.”

Sirius smirked, looking around at everyone - all seven of you (James, Remus, Peter, Lily, Marlene, Dorcas, and yourself) - before standing up, “I’ll be right back.”

You watched his retreating figure, glaring holes into the back of his head as he leant casually against the bar.

Merlin, you hated him.

“We all know that’s a lie.”

Your head whipped over to the source of the voice, your eyes fixating on James as you narrowed them slightly, “What’s a lie?”

“That you hate our Pads, we all know you don’t,” he shrugged matter-of-factly. You hadn’t realised you’d said anything out loud but...

“I do. He’s arrogant, he’s conceited, not to mention the most annoying and loathsome toad I have ever had the displeasure to come across in my life.”

“Now now, L/n! No need to be so feisty,” Sirius drawled.

You fought the need to roll your eyes. He passed around the butterbeers, everyone thanking him before you realised he’d missed you out.

“Think you bought one less than we need, Sirius,” Marlene said, looking over at him. He glanced at her before staring over at you. “Whoops, my bad, guess you’ll have to go without, L/n,” he said, feigning an apology.

You glared at him, clenching your fists under the table, before smiling sweetly and replying sarcastically, “No no, it’s fine, we all know how hard it can be to count to eight.”

Sirius sat, looking at you for a moment, tongue darting out across his bottom lip, before scoffing at you and shaking his head. He then shot you a cheeky smile as he pushed his own glass towards you, nodding towards it. He then turned away, starting up a conversation with Remus, Marlene and Dorcas instead.

You were silent, reluctantly taking the drink and running your finger around the rim of the glass.

James tried to hide his smirk by taking a sip of his butterbeer, before answering, “Just tell him.” Raising an eyebrow, feigning your confusion, you tap your fingers on the table next to your glass, “Tell him what?”

“That you like him.”

You nearly choked on air, “Well, you know, I would, but I don’t like him, so yeah I’m not gonna do that. But thanks for your suggestion.”

“You’re the one who always complains about him being with other girls. In fact, you can’t seem to stop talking about him, ergo, you like him!” James continued, Lily humming in agreement next to him.

You glanced over at the boy in question to find him deep in conversation - thankfully he wasn’t hearing what James was saying.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Look Potter, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, but I will spell it out in plain English so then maybe you’ll understand. I... do not... like... Sirius... Black. In a platonic or non-platonic way. I merely put up with him as I am quite fond of our friendship, though right now I am unsure as to why. Just as I am unsure as to why you’re friends with that asshat in the first place.”

James laughs, shaking his head, “You’re just saying that because you know deep down I’m right. If it’s any consolation, he likes you too.”

“Highly debatable,” you replied, pushing your glass away from you.

____________________

Monday mornings were the worst. Particularly this morning. You stumbled from your dorm room and into your common room, trying to do your tie on the move. You were already late, which meant that you’d have to miss out on breakfast, which means you’d have to sit through Slughorn droning on about potions whilst your stomach rumbled.

You grumbled to yourself as you shoved your bag onto your shoulder and ran towards your potions classroom. You’d be late regardless, but better to be five minutes late than half an hour.

“You’re late, Ms L/n. 10 points from Y/h,” Slughorn states as you enter the classroom in a hurry. You cheeks turn red as you realise everyone is staring at you. “Sorry Professor,” you ducked your head down, taking your usual seat next to Lily.

“As I was saying, today we will be starting a project where you will choose a potion and create it outside of classroom hours. You will be finding the ingredients and preparing the potions yourself, and you will be working in pairs for this-“ you looked over at Lily who grinned back at you, “- assigned by myself.”

There were hushed murmurs across the class at the revelation, getting louder as Slughorn read out names. Your heart beat faster. Please don’t put me with Black, please don’t put me with Black, please don’t-

“L/n and Black...”

You groaned, your head dropping to the table as you muttered out a string of curses.

“Why hello there L/n!”

”Oh for fuck’s sake,” you groaned, siting up and tilting your head back in annoyance, “Could this day actually get any worse?!” “Tsk tsk, language,” Sirius chastised with a smirk, leaning towards you and thoroughly enjoying the fact that you were less than impressed with the general goings on in your life at this moment in time.

He was so close to you that all it would take was you to turn your head and you’d be practically kissing him.

Stop thinking about kissing him! ____________________

You were sat in the library, waiting for Sirius to show up - that is, if he was actually going to show - flipping through a book on advanced potions and making notes on your favourites. You’d agreed to meet here as you had a free afternoon, however he was late - something you’d foreseen happening anyway but it didn’t make it any less annoying.

You’d been there a couple of hours before the library door finally swung open and Sirius strolled in, shirt untucked, collar up and him redoing up his buttons.

“Busy day?” You asked him sarcastically as you looked up at him, eyeing the lipstick stain on his neck. Your heart clenched, but you refused to think about why this was. He chose to ignore you, “I lost track of time.” “Clearly,” you commented, raising your eyebrows.

He scoffed, pulling his collar down, “Let’s just get this work done. What potion are we doing?”

“The Calming Draught. It’s one the easiest to collect the ingredients for, but just complicated enough to earn a high grade on,” you explained, looking back down at your textbook.

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” Sirius commenter as he sat down across from you. “Yes well I’ve been here for nearly three hours now, whilst you were off with some girl in a broom cupboard somewhere,” you offered him a sarcastic smile.

“Stop being so jealous L/n, it’s not a good colour on you,” he teased, offering you a lazy smirk, “Besides, you could be one of those girls in the broom cupboard if that’s what you want.”

You pushed your potions textbook over to him and gestured at him to read it. Looking at his handsome face, his chiselled jawline and the way he ran his tongue across his bottom lip as he started reading, you couldn’t blame the girls. In fact, you weren’t entirely sure you’d be able to say no yourself.

Over your dead body would you ever admit that to him.

“I can assure you that is the last place I’d ever want to be,” you lied.

____________________

About a week later, you were sat with Lily eating dinner when you noticed Sirius entering the Great Hall.

Lily noticed the change in your demeanour and tilted her head to one side, silently asking if you were okay. You gave her a nod and a fake smile, one you were glad she didn’t look too much into.

The black haired boy sat beside his friends at the end of the table you were sat on; you could hear them laughing and joking around. Allowing yourself a glance over as you took a sip of your drink, you saw Sirius was already looking your way, so you quickly turned back to Lily.

You were so focused on not staring in his direction that you didn’t notice that he’d moved to sit beside you, until you felt an arm brush against your own. You looked up at him, your heart jolting as you tried to keep a blush from forming.

“Sirius, to what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked carefully. “Can’t a guy sit next to one of his friends now?” He asked with a smile, grabbing some food and putting it onto his plate. You barely noticed Lily sliding down the bench towards James as you turned fully towards him, “I feel like you want something.

“I want a lot of things. Right now though, all I was gonna ask is if you got all the ingredients for that potion or if you need me to get anything.”

“Oh! I um... I managed to get everything already, I just need to start actually preparing it. I’m planning on using one of the potions classrooms after dinner, you’re welcome to join me.”

“Gladly.”

____________________

Sirius followed you into the empty potions classroom, watching as you brought out your textbook from your bag.

“Would you mind grabbing a cauldron from the cupboard please?” You asked as you set out the ingredients.

The black haired boy opened the cupboard at the back and grabbed a cauldron out for you, placing it on your table.

“I’ve got all the ingredients here, including lavender, peppermint and crocodile heart. It says if we do this correctly, the potion should be a blue colour,” you explained to him, turning and nearly jumping out of your skin when you realised how close he was standing behind you.

“Just let me know what you need me to do L/n and I’ll do it,” Sirius said, the corner of his mouth lifting up into a small smirk. You nodded, getting started on the potion.

You were just about to add the peppermint when you glanced over at Sirius, who was sat at the table, resting his chin on his hands and staring at you with an odd look in his eye.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” You said nervously, tucking your hair behind your ear and looking away from his gaze.

”Like what? ‘M not looking at you in any kind of way,” he shrugged innocently.

You raised an eyebrow at him before shaking your head and letting out a soft laugh, “Never mind.”

____________________

The morning after, you, Lily, James, Remus and Sirius were eating breakfast.

“Anyone got any plans for the summer?” Remus asked as he flipped through the morning newspaper.

“Well, I’m going to spend it with my Lilyflower here,” James spoke dreamily as he leant his head onto her shoulder. She raked her hand through his head before saying casually, “We’re thinking of getting married.”

Sirius choked on his pumpkin juice and Remus leant over to pat his back, “You’re getting married?!”

“We’re thinking about it. What with the war rising and all, we don’t want to wait in case heaven forbid something happens to us,” Lily explained. “We know we want to spend the rest of our lives together, so why not make it official,” James added.

“You’ll need a wedding dress! Oh there’s been some really lovely designs come out recently, we’ll have to take a look once we get back home,” You grinned at Lily.

“I want something simple I reckon, nothing extravagant, maybe a bit of lace,” she mused.

“That would suit you so well. There’s so many pretty designs, I saw a few when I was shopping with my cousin for hers - I think I’d want one of the ball gown ones, or maybe a mermaid cut.”

“That’s if you can trick some poor sod into marrying you,” Sirius muttered, though it was loud enough for the table to hear and you knew he knew it.

“You’re insufferable,” you scowled, “Why are you being such a git?” This earned a half-assed shrug from him. If Sirius was honest with himself, he didn’t really know why he was himself, all he knew was that as soon as he said it, he regretted it.

That, and he realised he kinda wanted to be that poor sod he spoke about.

“One thing for sure, I don’t think I ever went to get married,” he covered smoothly.

“Oh?” Lily asked, subconsciously running her hand through James’ hair, “You don’t?”

You looked up at him in curiosity too.

“Nah. It’s... it’s not for me. I couldn’t stick to one girl,” he shook his head. He was lying, he just didn’t want to admit the girl he would settle down with probably wouldn’t settle down with him.

“Oh right... I forgot who we were talking to,” you said, shaking your head. “What do you mean?” Sirius asked with a frown.

“Sirius Black: a new girl every night, no strings, no feelings. Never taking anything further. Leave them before they leave you right?”

That hurt him. Somehow, despite everything he’d been through with his parents, you sharing that you thought about him like that hurt more. He glared down at his plate. “Yeah, I’d prefer that than being like you. At least I know I’m wanted,” Sirius retaliated, not thinking about what he was saying until the words had left his mouth. He froze - why did he say that?

You gave a fake smile, and let out a humourless laugh, “I don’t have to deal with this.” Standing up, you grab your a few bits of food and bid goodbye to James, Lily and Remus - “I’ll see you guys in class.” - before heading out of the Great Hall.

“Y/n, wait!” Lily jumped up, running after you.

“Padfoot...” Remus shook his head at him. Sirius clenched his jaw, “What.” Sighing, James took a bite of his toast, “Just, sometimes you don’t know you’ve got a good thing when you’ve got it.”

“What are you talking about,” Sirius frowned. James nodded in the direction you had just ran off in. “Y/n?” Sirius said in surprise.

“I see the way you look at her Pads.”

Sirius scoffed, shaking his head.

”You look at her like she holds all the answers to the universe, like she’s your moon and stars, like you can’t bear to be without her. You like her. You do, don’t lie to me Pads, I can see right through you.”

Sighing, Sirius looked down at his drink, “So what if I do, she doesn’t like me like that.”

“You don’t see it, do you?” Remus let out a small smile as he turned the page of his newspaper. “See what?”

“You’re fucking oblivious mate.”

____________________

“I don’t know why I let him get to me,” You shook your head as you stood outside the bar. “It’s because you care about him,” Lily said gently, squeezing your shoulder gently.

“Yeah? Well I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t care about him, or his stupid face or his stupid suits or his stupid... jawline,” you sighed.

“I... I think I love him, Lily. I didn’t think I did before, but I’ve realised I do. And he’s an asshole. An utter and complete asshole and I... I fancy the fucking pants off of him. And I didn’t even realise. He came into the library after clearly being with someone the other week, his shirt and shirt a mess and-and I got annoyed. I thought it was just because he as a person annoys me but I’ve realised... well it’s because I wanted to be her. Whoever she was.”

Lily wrapped her arms around you and pulled you into a hug. “I think I’m just going to go to my dorm and skip class,” you whispered, hugging her back, “You head back to James and enjoy the rest of the day, okay?”

You pulled away, smiling encouragingly at Lily, who looked reluctant to let you go.

“I’ll come to check on you later,,” she finally said helplessly.

”I’m counting on it.”

____________________

“She likes you,” James said bluntly, shaking his head at his best friend. “What are you talking about?”

“She likes you. And you sleeping with other girls all the time hurts her,” James said as Lily rejoined the table.

“What? No it doesn’t,” Sirius shook his head, though he didn’t sound certain.

“Are you sure about that?” Lily asked. “Of course I’m sure, why would she care who I sleep with?”

”Why would anyone?” Lily posed the question pointedly. Sirius shrugged, staring down at his drink.

“For Merlin’s sake, she likes you Pads. Fuck, for someone so smart you sure can be stupid,” Remus said.

“Y/n doesn’t like me. Don’t be ridiculous,” Sirius shook his head. He paused for a moment as the news sunk in, “Y/n likes me?”

At the nods from Lily and James, Sirius jumped up and ran out of the hall.

He sprinted towards your common room, dashing around a corner as he saw a glimpse of your h/c hair.

“Y/n! Y/n wait!”

“Y/n!” you heard your name being called out. You turned around to see Sirius chasing after you.

“What could you possibly want now? You’ve been nothing but a dick to me! I thought maybe we’d become friends through bloody working together but clearly I was wrong! So what is it? What do you want?”

“I want to tell you I’ve decided that maybe I might want to get married some day.”

“What? Why would I need to know that?”

“Because I’ve found someone I want to marry.”

Your heart clenched - that hurt more than you expected.

“I thought you ‘couldn’t stick to one girl’,” you pointed out bitterly, raising an eyebrow in surprise. He gave a small shrug, “Yeah well, maybe I’ve decided I want to.” “Why the change of mind?”

“Someone changed it for me,” he smiled.

You nodded, swallowing as you tried to keep the smile from falling off your face, “Why are you telling me this?”

He leaned forward and it was only then that you realised how close he was to you. Your breath caught in your throat as you found yourself getting lost in the darkness of his eyes. He leant down slowly, nudging his nose against yours as he brushed his lips across your own gently. You smiled sadly, pulling away from him slowly, patting him on his chest.

“I er... I should go...” you said softly, moving out of his arms and trying to walk away. Sirius’ heart clenched, “Wait!”

He followed you down the hallway, reaching out to grab your waist and pull you back to him, “Why are you running away?”

“I’m panicking!” You looked into his grey eyes and tried to step back, but he held you close.

“Why?” He whispered, as if his voice would break if he spoke any louder.

“Because you’re Sirius Black, you-you sleep with girls and leave them soon after. I-I don’t want to be just another one of them,” you stuttered softly, closing your eyes and tilting your head down.

You felt him brush his fingers under your chin and slowing move your head up to face his as your eyes opened to meet his. He leant forward, his lips just about brushing yours again, “You’re not just another one of them sweetheart.”

“Then what am I?”

Sirius let out a breathy laugh and shook his head fondly. “You’re mine,” he murmured, before his lips were on yours.

[jostepherjoestar]

Can I ask what would happen if the yakuza La Squadra member got drunk with majima and began singing 24 hour Cinderella (full costume and all) as the team watch confused and laughing their asses off and kiryu kinda just enjoying the reunion

I can only imagine La Squadra’s reaction when their yakuza La Squadra member who’s normally serious and kinda stoic starts singing and dancing with majima in flashy outfits that look like the 80’s puked on them

Former Yakuza La Squadra member letting loose at karaoke

When two anons think alike and cozy is loving this idea, it must happen because wow this is just *chefs kiss* thank you for asking my dearies 💖✨(we’re all allowed to call them oushi-chan fyi 😎, this was so fun to write so it’s a bit longer than expected) 24 hour cinderella is the song they sing

CW: excessive alcohol use, embarrassingly wholesome fun

Majima and Kiryu’s visit was sadly coming to an end. Their week spent in Napoli walking around with their old friend brought them some mindless new adventure that for once didn’t include having to ward off punks every street corner. It felt refreshing, their former colleague glad to show them around whenever they had the time, even spending afternoons with their current teammates and the guests. The men had slowly began bonding among them, the power of temporary friendship was not one bound by language barriers. Even though the stand users were experienced fighters, Kiryu and Majima had tips to lend for more streetwise moves which the group gladly accepted.

For their last night in Italy Majima had requested karaoke, it had become quite the fad overseas now. New karaoke bars popping up all over town carrying the cheesiest hits and unknown gems. Begrudgingly oushi-chan booked their room, it would be cramped with ten muscled humans packed in the small room, but they’d all grown a lot closer over time. It seemed like the visit did them good, opening up more about their past and letting their guard down, even if it was just a smidge. But nothing had completely broken that stoic façade just yet. It made the team of assassins even more interested in the life of their latest team member. Risotto knew how annoying it could be to have people prying at the gates, begging them to open up, so after his prank of calling them oushi-chan he opted to let them be and just observe.

The alcohol was flowing like waterfalls in rainy season, luckily for them they kept it at one kind, some good old Sambuca making the room stink of anise. Every shot taken irrupting groans and smacking lips as everyone had begun to loosen up. Formaggio and Illuso were actually getting along for once, even singing a duet together, the quality of their singing varying to whoever you asked. Prosciutto had brought along playing cards so they could all play a game or two between songs, bringing the mood up to a high tension. Whoever lost had to go up there and sing as punishment. Kiryu had been quite good at playing, gladly avoiding having to embarrass himself even though he’d been indulging in the Italian liqueur, sure he’d remember the smell forever. Risotto just seemed to enjoy the company and the bustling room that was loud enough without music filling it, carefully sipping his drink, he never really liked to get overtly wasted. Ghiaccio had been scowling all throughout the game, knee bouncing up and down in anticipation. If he were to lose, his biggest tantrum yet would take place, he was under no circumstances going to sing.

Unfortunately for oushi-chan, they were losing quite badly, all the way at the bottom followed by an unlucky Majima, who had slung his arm around Melone. They’d become quite familiar over the span of the visit; always glad to get into a fight. Both way over their alcohol intake, swaying every so often as Melone tricked him into playing the worst card possible by pointing it out and encouragingly nodding. With an exasperated groan the stoic drunk slammed their cards down, knowing the punishment that followed. Majima only grew a mischievous grin as he started digging behind him on the cushioned booth. “Here oushi-chan, I thought I’d return it to you.” he handed a folded jacket over, the iridescent lapels glinting in the low light while their eyes widened as they recognised it. “Majima... you didn’t.” a soft, bordering on emotional, glint of nostalgia hazing their eyes. The Sambuca had taken its toll, letting al inhibitions take a backseat as they accepted the jacket they so loved to dance around in on drunk nights like these. Of course only them and Majima knew of it, not another soul had seen them executing their trained choreographies. It still smelled like smoke and apple flavoured sake as they put it on, nodding to Majima who had surprisingly brought along his own matching cropped sparkly jacket, like he’d been planning on this all along. It had been his plan, his most fond memories of any kind were having mindless fun with his beloved oushi-chan.

The rest of the group had begun egging them on, nagging for the two losers to get up front and engage in their retribution. Prosciutto noticed the tacky matching jackets, nudging his colleagues to pay attention as he barely contained a cackle. All eyes were on them, a devious grin on Illuso’s and Melone’s faces as they admired the shell oushi-chan crept out of as they looked through the song choices. Luckily for the two performers, their favourite song had become a cult classic in a few select European countries, Italy including. The serious frowned brows on their face didn’t match the sparkly outfit, Risotto fully intrigued at what was to follow, hardly even trying to conceal his amusement.

The clammy room was filled with hushed voices trying to make sense of the two in front, looking like an idol duo preparing for their concert, heads down, mics in hand. “Sta' zitto!” the former yakuza’s voice commanded the room as the men shut up, Kiryu knowing Majima’s usual performances already anticipating a great show, a slight smirk on his lips. As the nostalgic corny 80′s synths started, their heads snapped up, commencing their show. Formaggio instantly cackled in shock, slapping Pesci’s arm to assure him he was seeing this as well, the green tufted man’s mouth slack as he took in the show. As they began singing, voices harmonising beautifully and not even missing a beat, the team of assassins were perplexed by the smile adorning their teammate’s face. They beamed confidence, those fiery eyes they’d seen in battle now equipped as a different weapon. Ghiaccio couldn’t contain his smirk either, never had he expected to witness this display. The dimple on Risotto’s cheek now at full potential when their usually stoic underling shot him a wink during their performance. The duo slid over their small stage, energetic moves from side to side while still perfectly singing along. How many times have they done this before, a question on everyone’s minds. Kiryu wasn’t even surprised, he knew those two were close, knowing that their fights weren’t the only bonding they were doing.

As the two would-be-idols finished up, resting in their final pose while catching their breaths, their audience broke out in cheers and applause. “How did you guys do that?!” Formaggio yelled as he took their teammate under his shoulder, wobbling from his drunken state. They sat down, taking big gulps of water to satiate their thirst from performing, their stoic face making a comeback as the complements overlapped, not even being clear who was saying what. Melone slinking back next to Majima giving him a double thumbs up, admiring how great he did, while the other man coyly rubbed his neck shooting Kiryu a look who just smirked back telling him to handle this himself. “You will never see me do this again and I hope you all forget by morning.” oushi-chan slurred, wiping their mouth with the jacket. They didn’t regret the performance, it felt freeing to let loose again, especially with their old friend, but it was still embarrassing to have done it in front of the team knowing they’d tease later on.

After a lot of chatter, the room was starting to quiet down again as the night was coming to an end. A lazy game of cards being played as some others conversed among themselves, Kiryu and Majima out for a smoke with Prosciutto. Risotto slid over next to the sleepy idol who’d been leaning their head against the soft cushioned booth, halfway to dreamland. “That was really impressive, never saw that coming.” Risotto’s deep voice snapped them out of the stupor, their face only flushing more than previously. “You’re not blackout drunk are you?” they whispered trying to focus on their capo who was moving around their blurry vision. “Not even close.” he smirked, laying a compassionate hand on their shoulder. “Don’t worry, you can beat the memories out of them later.” he joked trying to put them at ease with the threatening suggestion. “That’s great.” yawning as their eyes fluttered closed again, the alcohol and activity having taken its toll. All the while oushi-chan slowly fell forward, hitting Risotto’s chest and accepting the comforting pillow it made. His plush muscles formed a very nice resting place for the exhausted drunk. The ambience of the room was like white noise humming them to sleep, a small satisfied groan coming from them as Risotto let them rest, taking another sip of his drink, glad to have seen a different side of his latest member.

[masjestickingdom]

FRIENDS (Part 2)

Pairing: NCT Jaehyun x reader

Genre: Angst, slight fluff

Summary: After returning to Korea to work for one of the biggest entertainment companies, SM Entertainment, memories of your life in your home country before you left for university flood your mind. Swallowing the past behind you, you decide to be professional and face the people you haven’t seen in a while--including the boy whose name you dared not think of for the past five years.

Note: What was originally supposed to be a oneshot turned into a two-part series. I’m so glad that a lot of you enjoyed the first one and reached out to me to request a second part, so here it is! Oh, and if you haven’t read the first part, go read it here.

_______________________________________________________________________

    Under the light the street lamp posts provided him, the youthful boy ran towards the run-down store under the bridge. He didn’t know why he was heading for the closed store, but his legs had a mind of their own. He ran and ran until he heard a voice.

    “Jaehyun!” it called.

    Suddenly, his legs weren’t mindlessly running on their own. It was as if the sweet voice that called his name controlled his legs because he found himself slowing down, looking around his bleak surroundings. The store was old and the bridge seemed ancient with vines traveling down it. The ground was concrete, but it had a few cracks. This seemingly desolate place had no meaning to Jaehyun, yet there he was, searching for the owner of the voice that called his name.

    “Jaehyun!” it said again.

    Before he could take another second to turn around, a pair of hands, rather slim and somewhat fragile, covered his eyes, blocking his vision. An unknowing smile appeared on his face while his hands, trembling with happiness, reached out to touch the soft hands.

    “Guess who?” it spoke with great excitement.

    Hearing the familiar voice up close, a brighter smile tugged his lips upward. As the owner of the faceless voice, which belonged to a girl, gently removed her hands from his face, she finally revealed herself. With one of her hands holding onto his right wrist, the girl appeared in Jaehyun’s view, the wind blowing past her face, causing her hair to cover half of her face. She smiled at him endearingly, and the sound of her laughter carried along the cold wind. She led him closer and closer to the store, but they never reached it. Jaehyun, however, got a clearer view of the sign on the store and when he did, the girl’s smile wasn’t a bright smile anymore. It was bittersweet. “Pain” were the letters written out on the sign in red ink.

    “It’s a pain spending time with you,” the boy heard his voice echo, but it didn’t come out of his mouth. Somewhere in the mystifying darkness, behind the legs of the bridge, the voice boomed, “It’s a pain.” In an instant, the floor rumbled and the bridge above his head began crumbling into pieces. “It’s a pain,” the voice repeated, causing more and more disruption. The girl, unlike him, stood still and watched his frightened face, continuing to smile the same way she was.

    “Y/N,” escaped the awoken boy, drenched in sweat. With wide eyes, he frantically scanned his setting, searching for the girl in his dream--nightmare, rather. When he realized that he was in his room, which he shared with fellow groupmate Jungwoo, his eyes contracted and his breathing slowly stabled. Uttering a breath of relief, Jaehyun checked the time on his phone, and his eyes quickly dilated again as soon as he saw that it was two in the morning. He groaned and tried to fall back asleep, but no matter how many times he twisted and turned, he was wide awake.

    And it was all because of a girl he hadn’t seen in five years.

...

    For you, summer was the worst season of all: the sun stared into your soul until you broke down in slimy sweat; in the afternoon, the sun blew hot air against your body, causing your clothes to absorb the revolting sweat; at night, even when the sun set, it managed to influence the moon to blow steamy air at your face. For those reasons, you liked mornings the best. You didn’t care if it was hot then because you rarely left the house in the morning anyway. You got to sleep in late with blinds shielding you from the sunlight. You got to wake up late and peacefully watch the shadows of the tall trees outside dance to their normal routine, swinging back and forth behind the blinds. It was wonderful, really. Of course, you realized that wonderful things were momentary because after getting a job at your older sister’s company, you had to wake up at half past six in the morning and be at your cubicle by eight. However, it didn’t matter that you had to deal with the awful mornings outside of the mini apartment you shared with your sister; you were on a plane to Korea.

    It had been five years since you were in your home country. After getting your bachelor’s degree in Communications and Psychology earlier than your peers, you studied furiously to the point you felt dead instead to obtain your master’s degree in Psychology in a year. Fortunately, you got a paid internship at your sister’s company, a therapy-based workplace, until your sister recommended you for an open job position in Korea. More specifically, SM Entertainment was looking for a full-time, SM-focused therapist. It was funny how things worked out, but you couldn’t pass on the amazing opportunity. As an employed therapist, you would be helping the company’s artists become healthier in a psychological aspect.

    To Korea, accompanying you was your college friend Bora and her two-year old daughter Eunkyung. Eunkyung was the most adorable toddler you had come across, given you didn’t encounter many kids in your life. Like her mom, she was a jokester, and she loved tugging your hair whenever she could. It became a bad habit. A really bad one.

    You were on the plane, sitting at the window seat, while Eunkyung was situated in the middle (thankfully because it was a vacant seat) and Bora in the aisle. Eunkyung started pulling your long hair towards her body, giggling, but she soon retracted her hand when her mom scolded her.

    “She didn’t get any sleep last night,” Bora lectured gently. “The last thing we want is to wake her up.”

    “Why?” Eunkyung asked innocently, tilting her head upwards at her mom.

    “Why can’t we wake her up? Your poor auntie was up trying to find us someone who would let us stay at their house, and once we land, she has to go straight to work.”

    Yes, you were a poor thing, but you were a poor lucky thing because after five short years of dedication to studying, you landed on this golden opportunity. That’s why when you woke up at the shaking plane, ready to land, instead of getting cranky and groaning like you would have normally done, you gratefully closed your eyes again and enjoyed the last few minutes of laziness.

    In a blink of an eye, you were somehow seated in the shotgun of your friend’s van, heading to your new workplace.

    “You wouldn’t believe the look on Y/N’s face when her mom told her she couldn’t stay at their place,” Bora spoke, sitting in the back seat with Eunkyung on her lap.

    “Y/N? Getting mad? I would like to see that,” your friend Hyunwoo said jokingly.

    “Thanks for letting us stay over the last minute,” you said, brushing off his comment. “My mom’s not usually the type to back out like this, but she apparently had a big fight with my dad, and the tension won’t serve any good to Eunkyung.”

    Hyunwoo simply shrugged. “I’m glad to have the company. Ever since my roommate moved out, I’ve been feeling kind of lonely.”

    As he gradually stopped the car at a red light, you took the moment to look out the window on your right, and you immediately spotted a dome-looking venue. It was flocked with decorations, mostly banners of people’s faces you couldn’t make out, but when the car pulled forward, the wind blew past the banners, straightening them out in a certain way. The only thing you got the chance to see was the bottom part of the nearest banner that read “NCT 127”.

    An unsettling feeling sat in your stomach. It was weird. You heard about NCT 127 from your friends back in college, but it was weird to see their faces plastered on banners in your home country.

    You ignored the lump in your throat as you set your eyes on the road.

    ...

    Six months passed, and you loved your job. With the exception of a certain friend, you met practically everyone from the company. It was certainly an exciting job to talk to celebrities, so every so often you had to remind yourself that they were humans too to calm your beating heart. You also had a routine down. Every morning, you would leave Hyunwoo’s place on an empty stomach, but you would be greeted by the sweet pastries fresh from the oven of the first floor cafe in the building. Every afternoon, you would stay in your office like a loner and eat chips for lunch. Every evening, you would enjoy the view of the falling sun from your desk. It wasn’t until the last night of June that your routine was disrupted.

    Your last session that night ended at ten, and you were more than ready to go home. Well, that was until you heard a knock on your door. That knock gave you the impression that you would be there longer than you wanted.

    As you struggled to switch from your heels to sneakers behind your desk, you yelled, “Come in.”

    Just as you managed to slide the heels of your feet into your cushioned sneakers, the door swung open. You rose from the ground, pushing your uselessly uncomfortable heels under your desk with your toes, and when you looked to see who was at the door, your breath hitched.

    It was him, your former best friend, the guy who pushed you away. He was soaked from the summer rain and had bloodshot eyes. His hair was a mess, and it appeared to you that he was out of breath because his chest rapidly rose up and down. It was the first time you had seen him in five years, and that was how he presented himself to you, unannounced.

    “Jaehyun, what...?”

    You found your feet taking you to Jaehyun step by step. Your eyes studied his, worry evident in yours. You wanted to comfort him, to hug him as hard as you could for all the years you couldn’t, but something inside of you screamed at you to stop. There weren’t any cameras installed in your office. In fact, your office was one of the rare areas in the building that didn’t have CCTVs for the sake of privacy and efficacy of your delicate work, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fling your arms around on the drenched boy. You couldn’t... but he did: as soon as you were a few feet away from him, he suddenly advanced towards you and engulfed you in a tight hug.

    “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice unbelievably shaking. “I’ve missed you.”

    At those simple words, an overwhelming wave of emotions washed over you. Despite the coldness provided by his wet clothes, your heart felt warm. After five years of nothing, no voice nor touch, he had finally reached out to you, and that was all you needed.

    “I was a jerk and an idiot,” he said, tightening his grip around your waist. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away, but I did.”

    His body was trembling while yours was stable. Your hands were by your sides, but you slowly raised them, secured them around his body, and patted his back the way he used to do to yours whenever you were uncontrollably sobbing after a sad movie. To your surprise, it seemed as though your actions caused the opposite effect because another wave of tears stained your back.

    “Shh,” you said, rubbing your hands on his back in circular motions.

    He buried his wet face in your neck and choked out, “I’m sorry.”

    “I heard you,” you whispered, slightly rocking him back and forth.

    After what seemed like a short minute (when in reality it was five), Jaehyun finally loosened his grip, and you pulled away, gripping the side of his arms. The two of you stared off into each other’s eyes and let the silence overtake the room. His eyes were full of sorrow and regret, and all that clouded your mind was how tired and worn out he looked. You were the first to offer a smile.

    “You should go back to your dorm and dry off,” you told him in a soft voice. “Otherwise, you’re gonna catch a cold.”

    With droplets of water dripping from the tips of his tousled hair, he shook his head.

    “I need to tell you why I did what I did.”

    Your smile faltered noticeably, your stomach twisting into knots. You were beyond nervous to hear his reason for pushing you away. Were you really annoying? Did his friends secretly think you were annoying? Whatever it was, Jaehyun had no hint of tenseness nor anxiety; he was ready to tell you.

    “I had a crush on you.”

    There and then, the world stopped: your analog clock stopped ticking; your phone, which was on silent mode, stopped ringing; the whispering drops of the rain outside stopped talking. To you, the only sound that was loud and clear was your rapidly beating heart.

    “When you came over for Chuseok dinner, when you told my parents that we were like twins, I-” Jaehyun stopped in mid-sentence, biting his lower lip in embarrassment, but you patiently waited for him. “I was frustrated at how you thought of me as a brother and a platonic friend rather than something more..” Before he continued, he rested his hands on your shoulders and stared dead straight into your eyes. “When I said it was a pain spending time with you, I meant that it was painful for me to contain my feelings around you because you didn’t look at me in the same way. I’m sorry that I lashed out. ”

    You let your hands hang onto his elbows as you barely audibly said, “Thanks for telling me.”

    The intense, yet soft look in Jaehyun’s eyes was the same gaze he gave you the day he yelled at you. It was then, you realized, that he was still in pain.

    “What is it?” you asked, your curious eyes searching his for clues.

    The now anxious boy let out a shaky breath, his eyes leaving yours. You took your hands and lifted his chin slightly upward, forcing his eyes to land back on yours.

    “You can tell me,” you encouraged.

    And before you knew it, Jaehyun was blurting out the words “I’m still in love with you”.

    .

    .

    .

    That was the quietness that filled the room. That was also the blank state your mind was in. You didn’t know what to think. You loved him, yes, but you loved him platonically. How could he, your childhood friend, still be in love with you after all those years? You couldn’t take your eyes off of the loving but painful expression in his eyes.

    For the first time in a long time, Jaehyun let out a chuckle, earning him a confused stare.

    “I know how you feel about me, and unlike my former self, I’m okay with it.” After a moment of silence, a gentle smile grew on his lips. ”I’ll wait for you.”

    Cue the waterworks and the hug. This time, it was Jaehyun rubbing your back.

    “I’m not gonna go anywhere,” he said quite confidently. “So when you’re ready--whether it be rejection or welcome--I’ll be here.”

    “Except when you go on tour and stuff,” you murmured, to which the both of you laughed.

    Fortunately for you, Jaehyun did wait. When you confessed your feelings to him, a year had already gone by since he promised he would wait. To him, your best friend and now lover, you were worth the wait.

_______________________________________________________________________

Additional Announcement: Thanks for waiting to read this second part! I hope that it was “worth the wait”. Anyway, this may be the only post for the month of August due to SAT season. I will make no promises to make an update this month, so please hang in there! And for any of you taking the August SAT too, good luck! If you aren’t taking it, please send your thoughts and prayers to those who are. We really need all the hope we can get.

[milknette]

day 18 - bookstore

cause lately i don't even know, what page you're on.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

THE first thing Marinette thinks as she pulls out the notebook is, that doesn't belong there.

And she's right— she knows Fu's Bookstore in and out; it's been her favorite place starting from when she discovered it in high school, and Marinette's practically lived there ever since.

(It's come to a point that some customers have assumed she's worked there, asking her questions as if she were an employee. Marinette still answers them even if she's not, just for the simple reason that she can.

Mister Fu doesn't mind either, assuring her that he loves the company and spirit she brings to the business.)

So Marinette always makes it a point to help whenever she can; her own personal way of saying thank you for providing her with a second home.

Today, she's organizing the books and placing them on their proper shelves.

It only takes a moment for her to notice the out-of-place and bright red notebook peeking out from the selection for Books About Superheroes.

"Weird," she quietly mutters to herself, wondering if someone had left it behind by mistake.

(But in case it was, then why would they shelf it, of all things?)

Curiously, Marinette opens the notebook.

On the first page, written in almost perfect handwriting:

'Up for making a new friend?

If yes, turn the page and write something!

I think that together, we'll be meowvelous.'

On the bottom is a drawing of an all-too-familiar catlike superhero, but was depicted so poorly that she almost couldn't identify it at all.

Marinette sighs.

Okay then. Guess she'll be writing something after all.

.

.

Adrien almost trips as he runs to the bookstore.

Maybe today. Maybe today someone actually replied!

He sneakily makes his way to the shelf, carefully watching to ensure that nobody's looking behind him. Adrien wraps the black jacket closer to his body in an attempt to hide himself.

Then, he opens the notebook.

First, he thinks with complete joy that, someone read it! This actually worked! He'll have a new best friend like in those coming-of-age movies and—

He flips to the next page.

'Please don't use the bookstore for your antics and jokes. I'll leave the notebook here for you to take back.

And Chat Noir, really? We all know the superior hero, and it's not him.'

Drawn below is an extremely intricate drawing of Ladybug, the superheroine of the Miraculous comic, arms out and holding her token yo-yo.

The sketch is so perfect that Adrien's tempted to rip the paper off and keep it for himself.

Instead, however, he decides to write back.

.

.

'Hey, it's not like I hate Ladybug, but we have to give Chat Noir some credit too! His puns are purrfect; absolute comedy gold.

But I love your drawing! Are you an art major?'

'His puns aren't all that clever. And you're not that great either, come to think of it. Maybe you could learn from Ladybug and start speaking more seriously?

And not an art major, but I'm in fashion design. I just like sketching in my free time. You, on the other hand? You could do with some practice. :-)'

'Then, teach me maybe?'

'Believe me, we're going to need a lot more notebooks if you want that to happen.'

.

.

Marinette doesn't know what makes her keep replying.

Maybe she doesn't want to lose a possible customer. Maybe the boredom of summer was finally getting to her. Maybe it's the fact that she pitied him because of his poor drawing skills and pure lack of taste in choosing superheroes.

Or maybe— maybe it's because she wants to know more about the strangely-optimistic and overly-friendly mysterious boy hiding behind the notebook's cover.

They continue their writing exchange for months.

(And have consequently gone through their fifth notebook to date. She figures that if they didn't doodle as much, they'd probably end up wasting much less paper.

But then again, Marinette does like seeing his awkward drawings decorate the pages.)

.

.

Their first argument over paper starts when Bookstore Stranger uses two whole pages to draw Ladybug and Chat Noir— sharing a kiss.

She doesn't even compliment him on the drawing.

'WHY ARE THEY KISSING?'

'Why not? I think they're in love! :'

'No, they're just partners by profession. A romantic relationship ruins their whole dynamic!'

'Well, I don't think that's true… if anything, that'd make their relationship that much stronger.'

'They don't even know each other beyond their masks! They can't possibly love each other without knowing their true identities.'

'So what? We don't know each other's real names.'

'Yeah, and we're not dating. Your point?'

The message doesn't come in the next day like it always does.

In fact, it doesn't come at all.

.

.

Marinette stops by the bookstore every morning.

Then every afternoon.

And even when it's closing time.

She arrives with a hopeful smile, then leaves feeling dejected and upset.

Maybe even angry.

Mister Fu asks her what's wrong.

"I found a stray kitty, and I think he ran away."

.

.

It's two weeks when she finally decides to get over it.

Marinette takes the notebook, a poorly-written #5 on its cover, and decides to throw it away.

She's two steps away from the trash can when she realizes that she can't get rid of it at all.

.

.

A month later, Marinette's taken a job at Fu's Bookstore.

It's a lazy Sunday, and she leans her head on the desk in front of her— eyes almost closing from how quiet it is.

Until the jingle of the door opening effectively wakes her up from her nap.

She rubs her eyes as the stranger walks up to her.

"Hi, I'm looking for this specific book and I just can't find it where I used to, so…"

"Okay, let me help you out," Marinette remarks, before turning to the desktop. "What's the title?"

"I actually don't know…"

She raises an eyebrow, then nods along. (Sure, she's gotten customers like this before.) "Can you describe what the contents are like, then? Or the design of the cover?"

"It's filled with sketches and some nonsense…"

"Nonsense?" Marinette wrinkles her nose. What a cruel way to describe a book someone's worked so hard on.

"I mean—! It's nonsense to everyone else, but not to me. And hopefully not to her either…"

Now, this is dragging on longer than it should.

"Then just describe the cover, please."

He brightens up. "Yeah! It's this bright red book; notebook, really, with the #5 on it? I know it should be around here somewhere, and I need to find it, I need to find a way to connect with her again…"

"..."

"See, I know it's not a real book, and I'm sorry I just snuck it here, but it's so important to me and…"

Marinette mutters unintelligibly.

"Sorry, I couldn't hear…"

She says it again.

"Can you repeat that?"

A third attempt.

"Please, just one more time—"

Visibly irritated, Marinette grabs a book from under her desk and places it in front of him. The number almost gleams as it's exposed to the light.

"That's exactly it! Thank you—"

"You can't have this."

"What?"

"It's my property."

"Look, I know I kept it in your library but…"

"No. We worked on it together, and you got to keep the last four so it's my turn."

"But—

Wait."

He looks up at her, eyes widening in surprise.

"Ladybug?"

She points at her name tag. "Marinette, actually. But hello, Chat. It's been awhile."

[omnivorousshipper]

Maki Maki mer Luke (turned into a Mer, so he can always be with Deck) and Betta Deckard heavily mpreg fanfiction (maybe in this world this is how Sam is made ? Luke and Deckard being full parents ? The Mermaid universe has 'Got me hooked.' I know that was bad, but I had to say it 😄

Lol! Love the pun friend! It's definitely got me "hooked" too! 😂 And I'm loving all the mermaid Aus! Now I just need someone to ask me about my mermaid Au for Rowen 👀

And I absolutely love the idea of Luke and Deckard getting together and Deckard being Sam's biological parent

~~~

Flicking his tail, Deckard lazy swam through the water and along the bottom of the shallow part of the ocean he was nesting in

His mother had been adamant that he give birth in their home territory. Luke hadn't been entirely happy about it, complaining about the colder waters constantly

But Deckard knew as he got bigger and bigger, he wouldn't be able to stand the warmer water Luke prefer. The cooler waters of his home helped to sooth his irritated scales when the baby kicked viciously

Reaching down and rubbing his large belly, Deckard couldn't help but smile as he felt her kick against his palm

He couldn't wait to meet his daughter

But first, he and Luke needed to pick a name

They had been arguing about her name for several moons, never once reaching a compromise

Absent-mindedly, Deckard swam past a large school of fish and towards his favorite coral reef. It was submerged enough to be home to many fish and other animals, while close enough to the surface to let Deckard breach

Settling on top a bit of coral, Deckard relaxed and watched the sunlight brake through the water's surface to make a light show

He had several names ready for his baby girl, but he couldn't decide on which one and Luke wasn't helping

Thinking over the list of names, Deckard didn't know how long he stayed there relaxing and rubbing his belly soothingly

After some time, he heard someone calling his name

"Deck!"

Looking up, Deckard saw Luke swimming at him in a torrent of water. His strong, powerful tail flashed in the afternoon sun and made him look stunning

"Deck! There you are!" Luke rushed up to him and started patting him down for any injuries

"Luke! What the bloody hell?" Deckard yelped, shoving the large hands off of him. "I'm fine!"

"Sorry," Luke said sheepishly. "I just wanted to make sure. You just disappeared and your brother and sister didn't know where you were."

"I needed time to think. Alone." Deckard huffed in slight irritation. "Everyone's been smothering me ever since I started to show."

"We just want to make sure you and the baby are ok."

"I know." Deckard sighed and screwed his face up. "I just wish we could call her something other than 'the baby'."

"We'll need to come up with a name then." Luke chuckled. He settled next to Deckard on the coral and wrapped his arms around him

"None of the ones I picked seem to fit."

"I feel the same."

They were quiet for a few minutes, simply enjoying each other's presence

"What about Samantha?" Luke asked suddenly

"Why that name?"

"It was the name of my great grandmother." Luke explained. "If you don't like it-"

"I love it."

Deckard smiled at him softly and cupped his cheek

"It fits perfectly."

Leaning up, Deckard gently locked their lips together

~~~

I hope you enjoyed friend!

[clareguilty]

A Life Worth Living Chapter 3

Read it here on AO3

Charthur/Fem!Reader (She developed a gender  on her own accord) Rating: Explicit | No Warnings Word Count: ~1900 READ PART ONE HERE

You were awoken early to the sound of Arthur’s ragged gasps. Charles was settled between his thighs, lips wrapped around the base of his cock. You rolled into Arthur’s side, kissing over his neck and shoulder, and whispered your ‘good morning’ into his skin.

“How you doing, handsome?” You ran your hands over his chest.

He responded by pulling you in for a searing kiss. You caught his bottom lip between your teeth. “Charles is amazing with his mouth, isn’t he?” you asked. Without waiting for a response, you lowered yourself so you could drag your teeth over one of Arthur’s nipples. He cried out and you felt his hips twitch.

Spurred on by his reaction, you trailed gentle, sucking kisses over to the other side. It was just as beautiful, the way he stifled a groan and his whole body shifted at the sensation.

“Charles, can I?” You turned to look at him.

He pulled back with a grin. “Go right ahead.”

You made Arthur come. Charles would let you take the credit, you figured. Toying with Arthur’s nipples, grinding lazily against his side, he fell apart beneath you.

A moment. No words needed, just breathing and sighs and the rustle of fabric. You kissed Arthur, watching his dazed and unfocused expression. “You here?” you asked.

He blinked and seemed to see you more clearly. “Hey.” His grin was lazy.

You rolled your eyes. “Stay here. I’ll bring some food.”

You felt Arthur move to get up after you, but Charles pinned him back to the bed. “Stay,” was his easy command.

Charles found you in the kitchen. A plate piled high with bread and veggies and dried meat. “I’m going to ride down to the station today,” you let him know, “--place an order. You can start without me if you need to.” 

He picked a bite off the plate. “Sounds good. We were going to get started on the shed today.”

Of course. Projects, projects, projects. You rolled your eyes and followed him back to the bedroom. Arthur was sitting on the bed with a cigarette, hair disheveled and still flushed pink from his orgasm.

You plucked the smoke from his hand, taking a quick drag before snubbing it in the ashtray. “Open up,” you raised a pinch of bread to his lips. “My turn to feed you.”

Arthur let you feed him and tease him. One bite for him, one for you, two for him, one for you. Charles brushed out your hair gently, helping you tie it back for riding. It was an easy routine, slow and quiet as you had grown used to.

The three of you dressed and tidied and headed out for the day. You fed and watered the animals, tended the garden, and saddled up Peanut. “I should be back by afternoon,” you checked your saddlebags. “Don’t wait up for me.” You shot a wink at Charles and dug your heels in, flying down towards the road. 

It was less than an hour to Emerald Station. You usually made the trip once a week or so, placing orders and picking up deliveries. The general store at the ranch hadn’t reopened yet, so you still ordered most things from Valentine.

You only had a few things to pick up today, so you packed them in your saddlebags as best you could. The clerk at the post office dutifully wrote down your orders -- a little larger now that Charles was back -- and chatted with you about recent news across the plains.

“Hi there, Miss,” a familiar voice greeted you as you picked up a stack of letters.

You sifted through the envelopes as you turned. “Wyatt,” you smiled warmly, “It’s so nice to see you. How have you been?”

The man shrugged and gestured back towards the ranch. He was young, tanned and freckled. You had met him shortly after settling down, a kind face who offered to help you when you came down to the station. You considered him a friend.

“Things have been pretty good. Mr. Holliday said he was going to teach me some new stuff this season. He said he sees a lot of potential in me.” You didn’t miss Wyatt’s wistful expression. He really admired Mr. Holliday.

“That’s wonderful. I’m sure you’ll do great!” You gave him a reassuring pat on the arm.

“Thanks, Miss. Do you need any help with your deliveries today?”

“Not today,” you patted your saddlebags. “Didn’t even need the wagon. But next time I may need your help. I ordered quite a bit.”

He nodded. “I heard the Boss saying something about getting the store back up and running. If that’s the case, you could come do your shopping at the ranch.”

“Really? That sounds awful nice. I hope he does.” You scanned your eyes over the horizon. “That would bring a lot of business to these parts, you think?”

Wyatt nodded eagerly. “It really would. Especially if the saloon gets up and running again too.”

Civilization. The last thing Arthur wanted. Too bad. You were settled and had no intentions of moving just because more folk started coming about.

You and Wyatt chatted a while longer. He was looking forward to the coming season. You told him you were planning to add more to your garden, and he had some helpful tips. It was nice to learn from someone; you needed all the help you could get. You and Charles had very little experience with farming, and it was only your second year at it.

At last, you teased him for spending too long away from his work, and he waved to you before running back to his horse. You started back up towards the house.

Arthur and Charles were inside the house when you got back. You washed up at the basin, curious what Charles was up too. The two of you had agreed to take care of Arthur, and you didn’t want to miss the best of it.

There was warm food waiting for you inside. You emptied a plate and listened closely for any noise from the bedroom.

Quiet.

You pushed open the door and stifled a laugh. Arthur and Charles were curled in each other’s arms, sleeping soundly in the middle of the afternoon. It looked like they had made a lot of progress on the shed, so it made sense they were tired. You dropped a kiss to each of their temples and returned to the front room to spend time with a book.

-

Arthur stumbled in on you an hour later. Blinking and rubbing his eyes, he started a bit when he noticed you. “When did you get back in?” He grabbed a beer.

“Just a bit ago. I figured I’d let you rest. Charles probably intends to keep you up all night.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “All night doing what?”

You dragged your lip between your teeth and shrugged. He wasn’t satisfied with that response, but let it slide for now. 

Charles woke and called for both of you. You tugged Arthur back to the bedroom, ignoring his questions and protests.

You unbuttoned your shirt, tugging it off and draping it over a chair. Charles would make you put it away later. Your trousers followed, and once you were just in your underthings you joined your husbands on the bed.

Still sleepy form his nap, Charles dragged you into his arms and laid still for a few more minutes. You could feel Arthur growing restless beside you. He always had to be busy. Hopefully one day he could enjoy the idle hours.

“Arthur,” Charles’ voice was muffled in your hair, “take off your clothes.”

Arthur did as he was told. You figured he knew exactly what was going on, but he didn’t protest. Charles finally pushed himself up and undressed as well. He tugged the last of your clothes off, fingers brushing lightly over your skin and making you squeal with laughter as he threw you across the bed to make room.

The quiet sounds of Charles and Arthur. You had learned that if you weren’t there, they hardly spoke at all. A few words at a time and nothing more. You were privy to the silence now as Charles kissed the corner of Arthur’s mouth, murmuring too low for you to hear.

They settled on the bed and you slipped in alongside them, always fitting in easily. Arthur was on his back, and you moved him so he was laying in your lap. Charles pressed his thighs apart, balm-slicked fingers moving gently.

Arthur melted against you. He trusted you and Charles enough at this point that he could just let go and get carried away in the feeling of it all. You brushed his hair back, admiring the softness in his expression.

Charles was slow and deliberate. He wanted to savor this, to make it last. You resisted the urge to tease Arthur, knowing that patience was not your greatest virtue.

By the time Charles was satisfied, you weren’t even sure Arthur would be able to sit upright; he was so loose and pliant against you. But he managed to roll over, straddling Charles and sinking down onto his cock in one quick motion. Both men gasped in pleasure. You leaned in to kiss Arthur, delighting in how uncoordinated he was, full and breathless on Charles’ cock. He rocked forward, trying to find a good rhythm as he began to fuck himself.

“God, he’s beautiful,” you whispered, stroking Charles’ hair. “I bet he feels amazing.”

Charles began moving his own hips to meet Arthur’s. “Fuck,” he breathed.

You watched them, unable to keep your hands to yourself. Arthur whined and keened under your touch. “Charles,” you asked, “can I touch his cock?”

He nodded, and you closed your fingers around Arthur’s shaft. His hips jerked at the touch. “There you go,” you pressed your lips to his skin. “You’re wonderful, you know that?”

Charles grunted and picked up the pace with his own hips. One of his large hands grabbed your thigh, dragging you to him. You got the message, straddling his head and gently lowering yourself so he could eat you out. This time it was your turn to cry out. You were dripping wet and desperate from watching your husbands fuck, it wouldn’t be long until you were on the brink.

You didn’t slow the movement of your hand on Arthur’s cock. “Is this where you want to come?” you asked him. He nodded, pulling you in for a desperate kiss as you worked him through a shuddering orgasm.

Charles must have followed soon after, spilling inside Arthur as he bit gently into your thighs. He went right back to your pussy just after, working you to a swift orgasm before you too toppled over on the bed, shaking and panting.

“Fuck,” you gasped.

Arthur was nearly unresponsive beside you. His eyes fluttered shut as he caught his breath. Charles was the most coherent of the lot of you, grabbing the pitcher and cloths to begin cleaning up. You sprang into action pretty soon after that, helping to care for Arthur who would probably need to take it easy for the rest of the day.

“I’ll start on supper,” Charles kissed the top of your head.

“Let me know if you need anything,” you curled against Arthur, whispering to him as he came back to himself.

Part One | Part Two | Part Four

[horansqueen]

You & Me : chapter 28

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4.2k - 4.3k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- notes: filler chapter again sorry! but i tried to make it cute! i didnt plan a sex scene but its there sooo yea haha lol

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : 2 requests! i hope i wrote them right! love them btw! please keep sending them!!!

Chapter 28 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

I thought we would have sex before we went to bed but I must have fallen asleep faster than I wanted to. Niall also probably undressed me because when I woke up in the middle of the night, I was wearing his shirt and nothing else. I smiled, keeping my eyes closed, and brought my shoulder closer to my nose. It smelled like him even if he probably didn't wear it for too long since he had a buttoned shirt at the wedding. I turned around in bed, trying to reach him with my arm but he wasn't there and I let out a short whimper before forcing myself to open my eyes.

The room was dark and quiet and it made a shiver run in my back. I got up and realized his shirt was a bit short. I searched through my stuff for a clean pair of panties and put it on before quietly getting out of the room. Everything was dark except for a very low and warm light in the living room. I walked slowly closer and leaned against the wall when I saw Niall sitting on the couch. He was writing very quickly in his notebook and he was so concentrated that he didn't even notice me. It was always special for me to see him when he seemed to be so deep in his thoughts that no one could get in his bubble. His hair was a mess and once in a while, he ran his hand in it, making the mess even worse. I stared at him for a while as he kept his focus on the paper, wearing only his boxers and making me realize he probably woke up in the middle of the night with an idea that he couldn't let go of. Something that he knew he wouldn’t remember in the morning but that he just had to write about.

I didn't know how long I stayed there but I didn't want to interrupt him or distract him. I just walked back to the room after a while and lied down in bed, looking at the ceiling. I couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened to me in the past few months and somehow, I felt like everything was going for the better. The more time passed, the more It seemed like I was discovering who I was and what I wanted.

It was so obvious that what I wanted was Niall but more than that, what I really wanted was a healthy relationship with Niall. I wanted us to be the kind of couple that would drip with sweetness but that also could spend time without each other without going crazy. I wanted him to be my best friend but not my only friend and I didn't want either of us to be afraid, insecure, jealous or unhappy. I knew I was asking a lot, and I knew not everything could be perfect all the time, but I knew Niall and I together could come very fucking close to perfection.

I tried to stay awake until he came back to sleep but once again, I probably had fallen asleep despite myself because when I woke up again, the sun was already up and I had a small headache. I groaned and this time, I knew he was still in bed. I could feel the warmth of his body close to mine and I turned in the sheets, wrapping my arm around his back. His cheek was flat against the mattress just like his chest and I watched him sleep, his lips parted and slightly twisted as he let out a low snore. Fuck, he was so hot and I just stared at him with my eyes half-open for a few minutes, or maybe 15? 20? Who knew?

When I realized how bad I needed to pee, I finally got up very slowly, making sure I wouldn't wake him up. He was always up before me but I knew he had been up a big part of the night to write something and I wanted him to get the rest he needed and clearly deserved.

I made coffee and stayed next to the coffee machine as I watched it fall down, yawning a few times before adding cream and sugar in my cup. I couldn't stop thinking about him going on tour and being separated from him for weeks and it made something twist in my chest. Of course, I didn't want to be the girl who would follow him everywhere. I was not that girl anymore. I was not dependent of the man I loved, and I had stuff to do and commitments, too. We were about to start filming the new season of my tv show and although I dreaded playing with Dylan I knew it was something we had to do. It would be awkward at first, for sure, but in the end, I knew he was professional and I promised myself I would be, too.

I finished my coffee but left the cup in the sink before walking to the living room. It was supposed to be a lazy day and I was surprised my head didn't hurt as much as I thought it would, or that I wasn't nauseous at all despite all the champagne I had drank the night before.

I sat on the couch and pushed the stuff on it to find the remote. It showed that I was spending time at Niall's : his place had never been so messy and I suddenly felt guilty. I finally found the remote but looked at it before sighing, putting it back on the coffee table as I took the decision to clean a bit while he was still asleep. Something caught my attention and even if I knew I shouldn't, I grabbed hos notebook to the page it was opened and started reading. Niall rarely shared his writing with random people until it was a final product and all the songs I had heard was because I had crept on him somehow. I was not proud of it but at the same time, he never really seemed angry about it. I remembered that time when we were all at his place and I had followed the sound of his guitar until I practically fell in the room like a loser as he was playing a song. At that time, I had thought it was about Heidi but now that I knew it was about me, I wished I could remember what the lyrics were. All I could remember was that I had deeply hoped that it was for me. That thought made something twist in my chest and I licked my lips before letting my eyes roam on the words I was probably not supposed to see.

"I want the world to witness When we finally say I do It's the way you love I gotta give it back to you I can't promise picket fences Or sunny afternoons But, at night when I close my eyes"

A lot of words seemed to be scratched a few times and then I could read something that seemed like a chorus.

"Yeah, I see us in black and white Crystal clear on a star lit night In all your gorgeous colors I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life See you standing in your dress Swear in front of all our friends There'll never be another I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life"

I swallowed and ran my fingers on the ink, feeling the tiny rifts and bumps in the paper and feeling my heart beating so fast in my chest that I had a hard time to breathe.

"Now, we're sitting here in your living room Telling stories while we share a drink or two And there's a vision I've been holding in my mind We're 65 and you ask "When did I first know?" I always knew."

And just when I thought it was probably not about me, I saw a word that was also scratched at the end of the lyrics and I could swear it started with a capital O. I grabbed the notebook, moving it up and putting the simple sheet where the song was written in the light. It appeared clearly. My name at the bottom. I didn't know why it was crossed out and I was not sure I wanted to know. but as I re-read the lyrics for the tenth time, I couldn't lie to myself anymore. It was a wedding song.

After a few minutes, I finally started moving again. I cleaned the living room, washed the dishes, started laundry and even started cleaning the windows. All while thinking about the song, the lyrics hitting inside my brain and doing something incredible to my heart : something I hadn't felt ever before. I would never tell him but if Niall asked me to marry him at this exact moment, I would say yes. Was it because of the great time we had the night before? Or maybe because we were so happy together these days? I had no idea. But I knew I'd say yes in a heartbeat. Tomorrow, I couldn't tell you what my answer would be but today? It would be a million times yes.

I saw him walk behind me in the reflection of the now extra clean windows and my lips immediately curled. He placed himself behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and leaning his chin on my shoulder, and suddenly, I felt so much better than I did only a few minutes ago, even if I was still happy before.

"You should have waken me up." he whispered in my ear. "I would have helped you. Especially that you're cleaning wearing only a shirt and panties. I'd love to see you on all four as you clean the floor."

I laughed and raised my nose up as he kissed a spot near my ear. It was not only my love for him that made my heart jump when he was near, it was more than that. It was who he was, who I hoped he would always be.

"Tell me you'll always do that, that you'll always say things like that."

He pulled away slightly and turned his head more to look at me. I waited for his answer but he was waiting for me to look at him and I gave in, my eyes finally meeting his.

"Hold you? Kiss you? Tell you that I love and lust you?" he asked low, raising his eyebrows. I bit my bottom lip and nodded. "I promise. I swear. You have my words. And my heart. And my body, soul and mind."

My traits softened and I turned in his arms to face him, wrapping mine around his neck, moving my chin up to kiss him. He pushed me gently against the window as we kissed and I felt my butt press against it, making me chuckle.

"I'm gonna have to clean that window again." I let out with a smile as he chuckled against my lips.

"Or, you know, we can leave it like that." he proposed, shrugging a shoulder. "Your butt print seems like a nice decoration."

I'm the one who laughed this time. "You? Leaving a dirty window without touching it? Who are you trying to fool, Horan?"

"Don't call me that." he just said in a serious tone, raising his eyebrows.

"Or what?"I asked, teasing him with a sassy voice.

"Or I'm gonna tickle you." he pointed out, making my heart skip a beat. "I'm gonna tickle you until you beg me to stop."

"Sure, Horan." I tried to provoke him, putting emphasis on his last name.

He stared at me for a few seconds but suddenly and quickly, he picked me up and brought me to the couch. I was surprised that he could actually support my weight and he finally let me fall on the couch as I bounced on the cushions but he quickly straddled me, grabbing my wrists and pulling them over my head. When was the last time we played like that? It had been so long I couldn't remember.

"Apologize now." he ordered, looking down at me.

I could feel his grip tighten on my wrists and I licked my lips. "Never."

"Last chance." he let out, making me smirk.

"Bite me, Horan."

Quickly, he brought his free hand to my waist and started tickling me. Immediately, I started squirming, trying to get out of his grip as I let out a few high pitched yells. It made him laugh and it made me remember how much I hated to be tickled. After a while, he stopped and my lips parted as I started panting.

"You looking like that? God. Makes me want to tie you up and have my way with you."

I let out a short laughter and he started tickling me again until I started screaming his name.

"Niall! Niall stop! I c-can't!"

He did as I asked and smirked. "Beg me." he let out, shaking his eyebrows. "Apologize and beg me."

"Mm, I'm so sorry, Niall." I whispered with puppy eyes. "Please I'm begging you, stop tickling me?"

"Don't you fucking pout like that, it makes me want to fuck your mouth."

I laughed louder this time, tilting my head back slightly and closing my eyes as I felt his hand run up my breasts.

"And you say I'm the horny one!"

"Heyyy!" he argued with a frown. "I fingered you last night and I didn't cum at all, remember?"

My smirk disappeared and I just smiled at him. "You want to cum now?"

He groaned and raised his nose up. "I feel like all we do is fuck."

I shrugged and he finally let go of my wrists. I brought my hands to his pants and slid one in them, raising my eyebrows again but in surprise this time.

"You went commando?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he reached for my shirt and moved it up to expose my breasts as I took his cock out of his pants, stroking him slowly with both my hands. He breathed in and then out, letting out a very short whimper and one of his hands moved back to reach between my legs. He moved two of his fingertips on my panties, brushing against my clit and I pressed my lips together. I tried to focus on what my hands were doing and spit on his cock before running my fingers right under his tip. He groaned and brought his hand back to grab one of my breasts hard and I started stroking him harder.

"That feels so fucking good." he admitted, running his thumb on my nipple. "I tried doing that to myself and it just doesn't work. It has to be your hands."

I didn't tell him but it probably could have been anyone's hands except his and even if he probably knew it, I didn't want to point it out just in case. He took his cock in his hands, making me hold my breath and take my hands away and quickly, he tapped his cock on my tits before rubbing his tip on my nipples.

"Please, petal, push your tits together."

My heart jumped so high in my chest that I had to swallow it back.

"Niall, I don't think my boobs are big enough to-"

"Do it." he cut me.

I bit my bottom lip and did as he asked, just watching him spit in his hand and rub his cock again. My lips parted when he put his cock between my breasts and he was so focused on what he was doing that he didn't even look at me again. I could pretend otherwise but watching him using me to cum was actually exciting and when he groaned, I pressed my thighs together as I felt my pussy throb. I loved the feeling of his cock sliding quickly between my breasts and the thought in itself was driving me insane. After a while, he took his dick back in his hand and started jerking off harder until his lips parted.

"Jesus Christ." he whispered as I held my breath.

He shook slightly over me, moaning low as his cum spurted on my chest and breasts. I just remained motionless as he came down from his high, letting out a low 'fuck" and rubbing his tip on my nipples again, spreading his cum on me.

He sighed and sat on me, putting his cock back in his pants as I stared at him and he shook his head.

"I'm so.. so sorry. I was just so..."

"Horny? Yea I noticed." I chuckled, letting my lips curl as he finally looked back at me.

"I didn't really give you much attention, did I?" he asked, raising his nose up. I could read guilt on his face and my lips curled. "I'm sorry, pet."

"I'm just... I'm glad I made you cum. Didn't think that would be so exciting, but it was." I admitted, pulling my shirt back over my breasts as he laughed. "Also didn't think it was possible with my boobs."

"Your boobs are perfect." he pointed out before getting up and holding his hand out for me.

I put my hand in his and his fingers gripped mine as he helped me get up, letting his eyes roam on my face. He bent down to kiss me and I closed my eyes at the way it made my heart jump in my chest.

"Lazy day yea?" he proposed in a breath, his mouth still pressed against mine. "You go take a shower and I'll close all the curtains, find a good tv show to binge on netflix, and order something, chinese maybe?"

I nodded quickly and smiled. "That sounds perfect."

I took a quick shower and put on a pair of his sweatpants and one of his shirts and when I got back in the living room, he had brought pillows and blankets, a few beers and was waiting for me with the remote in hands. I stared at him for a while, just trying to live the moment and realize how lucky I was, before finally sitting next to him. He looked up at me with a smile and I pushed the pillows away to lean against his chest as his back was against the side of the couch. His legs were spread but they moved a bit close to both my sides, kind of to trap me close to him. He tried to put the blanket over us and I helped him before squirming slightly to be more comfortable.

"Hey, watch the goods, yea?"

I laughed but still took care of where I was moving and he wrapped one of his arms around me.

"Remember this spot because food will be there in half an hour and we're gonna have to do it all over again." he said, making me groan and making him laugh. "Seriously though, it feels good to have you here with me just to have a lazy day."

I felt my heart swell and smiled more, turning to kiss his jaw gently. He looked down and his lips met mine and he deepened the kiss just as the first episode of a series we both wanted to watch started.

"How will I be able to focus on anything but you today, mm?" I let out, half-joking.

He rolled his eyes with a low chuckle and we both focused on the tv for a while. I groaned when the doorbell rang and he laughed again. I sat up to let him get up and when he came back with the food, I realized how hungry I was. we ate again in silence but I couldn't stop glancing at him. There was something endearing in the way he used his chopsticks to push the noddles in his mouth and I only realized I was staring when he turned his gaze to me and chuckled. I blinked a few times and looked away as he swallowed his food.

"It's okay, you can stare. I stare at you too, you know. You just don't notice."

I felt my heart jump in my chest and put my food away.

"Just like I stared at you for about twenty minutes in the middle of the night." I confessed, making him frown. "You were sitting here, in only your boxers, and you were writing. You were so focused on what you were doing that you never noticed me."

I couldn't add that I had found him gorgeous with his messy hair and his tired eyes. I couldn't say that I had felt a wave of love so strong that I almost started crying. I couldn't tell him that because it still embarrassed me to be so in love with him. Not because I didn't want to be, but because I was scared I would end up losing him again.

His lips curled into a smile and he pushed the air out of his lungs. "I was writing a song. For you. About you."

My lips crashed against his and he replied to the kiss quickly, pushing his tongue deep in my mouth as I whimpered. He didn't know that I had read it and I suddenly felt guilty but he literally confirmed that his lyrics were about me and somehow, it made me ecstatic. So ecstatic that I surprised myself wishing he'd ask me to marry him as soon as our lips would part.

"I didn't know if I should tell you but, Olivia, I'm so happy we're both single right now. I know it's wrong to say that but fuck, I'm happy with you. Just you and I. No guilt, no stress, no question. You and me, living this moment."

I kissed him again, not knowing what to answer. I was happy too. I was happier than I had ever been, even before we broke up, and I didn't want anything to change. I didn't want to jinx this by claiming my happiness out loud. I didn't want to risk this happiness with an official relationship because last time didn't end well. It was ridiculous. All my fears made no sense, but it didn't make them vanish to know that.

"I love you, Niall." I whispered, leaving small kisses slowly on his mouth, jaw and cheeks. "I love you more than anything. No one is you."

He finally let go of his chopsticks to cup my face and he breathed in before his mouth found mine again.

"I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life." he murmured quickly before kissing me again.

My heart jumped when I recognized the lyrics and it made me wonder how often he talked to me with his own lyrics. I wanted to hear all of them. One time, twice, three times... a hundred fucking times. I wanted him to play me all the songs that were for me, to sing them, to whisper them, to yell them. I wanted him to make love to me while he'd do it, to hold my hand as we walked outside as he'd sing, to fucking marry me as he'd yell. I wanted him to claim his love for me until I'd be tired to hear it. And deep down, I knew I'd never be.

"I have a weekend left before I leave for tour." he just said sadly, breaking my heart. "I thought we could leave. Pack a bag, take the road, only you and me, for a few days."

My lips curled so much that my cheeks started hurting and I quickly nodded. I really wanted to spend quality time with him while it was still possible and I kissed his lips again.

"That's a yes?" he made sure as I nodded. "Okay then, we're leaving in 3 days. So cancel all the plans you had."

I laughed and licked my lips, licking his at the same time because of the proximity of our mouths.

"Niall? I'm sorry, I had planned to spend all my days with you but this super hot guy just asked me on a road trip so I'm gonna have to rain check."

He laughed and shook his head slightly. "Dork."

He pulled away slightly to stare at me as we completely forgot the show playing. I grabbed the remote and put it on pause before looking back at him and tilting my head. I needed him more than I ever needed him before and it was scaring me so bad I could feel my heart trying to escape my rib cage in intense thumps.

"Tell me you love me." I whispered as I bit my bottom lip nervously. "Please, Niall."

His face changed and he moved closer. I thought he'd kiss me again but instead, he got serious and I felt him grab my hands.

"I love you, Olivia. I'm in love with you. I never stopped, not one second. And I never will. Do you want me to repeat it every day? At which frequency? Every 6 hours? 4 hours? Two? I'll put a damn alarm on my phone to tell you in the middle of the night if I have to." he said in a soft tone. "I know it was different when we dated, but I will never let you believe that you are not perfect the way you are, that you are not everything I want and need, or that you are not loved. Never again. I swear, Olivia. I fucking love you."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

kiss me in the d-a-r-k .6.

thursday

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

Warnings: non/dub con sex (you know what it is ;))

This is dark!(dad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader spends her last night in the Rogers’ household.

Note: OMG it’s the finale! Hope y’all are ready because I sure as fuck am not. But let’s get snappin’.

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think!

…

It was your last full day with Kylie. With Steve. You were exhausted. The week had lasted much longer than anticipated. And the night. You spent most of it awake. Not just because Steve slept on the other side of your wall but because of the itch which never fully faded. Every time you about to doze, it woke you. Your thighs tickled and your core pulsed. He had left you wanting and you suspected it was no accident.

When the sun rose, you did too. You kept quiet. You listened until you heard movement in the next room. Steve's door opened and shut, his footsteps paused in the hallway. A light graze along the other side. A sigh. He carried on and left you to finally breathe.

You bathed if only to waste time. You were drawn from the tub by a knock. It was Kylie. As promised, she'd awoken early.

She entered as you held tight your towel. She was ready for the day. A black bathing suit with cut-outs complemented her perfect figure. Your flower bathing suit was out of the question and your bikini bottoms were missing. Your other option was the bright yellow frilly piece your mom had bought you. Oh well, you’d just be lounging in the pool.

You changed and followed her into the hall. The house was eerily quiet. It felt oddly empty. You listened for any noise from the room next to yours or below. Kylie slipped her sunglasses on as she descended the stairs lazily. You trailed her, your ears pricked for any sign of life.

“My dad went into town,” She yawned as she led you into the kitchen, “Something about his motorcycle? I dunno. He’s been working on that thing for years.” 

“Oh,” You let out a silent breath of relief.

She rounded the island and pulled out a pitcher from the fridge and a tray of ice. “I figured ice coffees by the pool will be a great start to the day,” She grinned. “A lazy day to end your visit.”

“Thank god,” You smiled. “I’m not looking forward to a summer at the banquet hall.”

“Yeah, but the tips,” She took out two glasses and added ice. “My mom got me a job at a newspaper. Folding flyers.”

“Shit,” You frowned as she poured the cold brew and replaced the pitcher in the fridge. “I’d gladly trade weddings for the menial work.”

“If only,” She slid your coffee across to you. “Oh well, let’s just enjoy the sun.”

“When do you go to your mom’s?” You asked as you stepped out into the yard. Birds chirped merrily and you could smell the freshly cut grass over the fence. 

“Another week. Figure it’s enough time to say goodbye to Taylor.” She sat on a lounger and sipped her drink. “He’s dropping out, eh? His parents are pissed.”

“Really?” You draped your towel over the back of the chair and sat.

“He hates it. He’s not one for reading, you know?” She shrugged. “It’s all just a waste of time. If my parents weren’t down my throat about it, I wouldn’t even be there. I just wanna go live in a big city and be me.”

“Yeah,” You took a gulp and set down the glass carefully beside your beach chair. “I don’t know what to do if I don’t get the switch. I mean, I could still write in my spare time but...whatever. You’re right, let’s just chill and worry about it later.”

“Ooh, I like vacation you,” She giggled. “I’ll enjoy her while she lasts.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad,” You snapped.

“Nah, not at all, mom,” She teased, “Don’t worry, it’s what I like about you. All my other friends encourage my bad decisions.”

You shook your head and put your own sunglasses on as you reclined. You were okay with spending your last day doing nothing. It would be a nice reprieve before a day spent driving to a summer of work.

-

Steve returned that afternoon. The sun’s heat had softened and you floated around the pool in half a slumber. Your heart fluttered as you heard the car engine and the subsequent open and close of the front door. The house muted all other noise and you prayed he did not come looking for you.

It was almost twenty minutes before he made his appearance. Your sunbathed trance had broke and you were antsy atop your floatie. You fidgeted as you tried to balance the still unfinished book and glanced to the glass doors as they slid open.

“Hey,” Steve appeared in a short-sleeve button-up and shorts. Kylie waved to him as she texted at the edge of the pool. “You look...relaxed.”

“What’s up, dad?” She grumbled as she tore her eyes from her screen.

“Just checking on you guys,” He sat on the lounger you had formerly occupied. “Have you had lunch?”

“Dad, we can fend for ourselves,” She shook her head and set her phone down as she pushed herself away from the side of the pool. “We’re adults.”

“I know,” He smiled and she didn’t notice as his eyes strayed to you. You closed your book and shielded your chest with it. “I was just trying to be nice.” He sighed and blocked the sun from his eyes. “I ran into Taylor’s mom...she asked how you were doing?”

Kylie sat up and nearly turned over her floatie. “You’re checking in on me. Dad, me and Taylor--”

“I don’t have a problem with Taylor,” He asserted, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She leaned back slowly.

“You didn’t mention he was going away,” He scratched his chin as he spoke. “I know it’s probably difficult but--”

“What do you mean going away?” Kylie’s floatie shook dangerously again as she jolted up.

“I thought you...knew,” He seemed genuinely perplexed, though you had found him to be a great actor. “He’s leaving on Sunday...for enlistment.”

“Enlistment?” Her voice peaked and she dove off her floatie. She broke the surface and dragged herself through the water back to her phone at the edge. “I didn’t--He didn’t tell me.”

She climbed out and dialed her phone as she stormed to the glass door. You gaped and Steve met your gaze. A grin slowly spread across his face. Shit. This wasn’t new information. This was an expertly timed reveal of a secret he’d been holding onto. 

You swallowed and paddled yourself over to the ladder. You climbed out and Steve stood. He moved into your path as you made to follow Kylie.

“Get out of my way,” You hissed.

“I got you a gift,” He kept his distance but his eyes embraced you. It was as if you could feel the things he was thinking of doing to you. “I left it on your bed.”

“I…” You sidestepped him but he didn’t try to stop you. His fingers merely brushed along your thigh and snapped the bottom of your swimsuit. “I gotta go check on Kylie.”

You scurried around him and through the door. You could hear Kylie’s voice from upstairs and you glanced back to the yard. Steve had turned to watch you but did not follow. His hands were on his hips in a victorious pose. He knew what he had done.

-

Kylie spent an hour on the phone with Taylor. Then the rest of the night texting him as you tried to comfort her. She was too distracted, too angry to notice your own distress. When she didn’t have her phone, she was in tears or fits of rage. You listened to her rants as she paced restlessly or collapsed weakly on her bed.

“Why didn’t he tell me?” She bemoaned as she slumped on her bed. “He was just going to leave me.”

You didn’t know what to say. Your last day had taken a sour turn and you had zero relationship advice to offer. You had avoided men for most of your life. You didn’t get them either. They seemed more stressful than anything. The last week had confirmed as much.

“Kylie, maybe he was scared to tell you,” You peeked out the window just beyond her bed. It was dark out. Past nine already. Your evening had wasted away with her temper. “I’m sure he meant to but it’s probably hard for him, too.”

“Ugh,” She kicked her feet and stood with a growl. “I just...I have to talk to him.”

“Kylie,” You rose, “Come on, it’s my last night.”

“And it might be my last chance to say goodbye,” She whined. “I’m sorry, but I might not see him...ever again.”

“You have two days left to say goodbye,” You pleaded.

“I promise I’ll be back to see you off,” She took her phone and tucked it in her pocket. “Please.”

You sighed. You really didn’t want to let her go. Didn’t want to be here alone. But how much could you take of her fits? You knew she was going to leave whether you agreed or not. She already had her keys in her hand.

“Fine, I guess I can’t say no,” You muttered. “Go.”

“Thank you,” She grabbed your hand, “Really. I know I’m being a shit friend but…”

You pulled your hand from her grip and crossed your arms. “Just go.”

Her blonde lashes lowered in guilt but she left without another word. She brushed past you and rushed through her door and down the stairs. No pretense in hiding her departure. You listened from her open door as she hurried out. Her engine turned and tore down the drive. 

You quietly pulled shut her door and tiptoed down the hall. You pushed through into your own room and it clicked behind you as you entered. You crossed to your bed and fell onto it with a groan. You kept yourself from screaming into the pillow as you landed on an unseen object. You sat up and climbed off the crumpled cardboard.

You shifted the lid off the box and blinked at its contents. You peeled away the tissue paper to fully uncover the lacy lingerie. There was no ass or crotch in the lilac panties, merely a series of lacy straps and a bra to match which could barely conceal your chest. A knock came at your door.

You stood but it opened without awaiting your answer. Steve let the door fall open and you stared at him as you held the pale bra. He smiled and crossed his arms. 

“You opened it.” You tossed the bra on the bed and stepped back. “Oh sweetie, let’s not play this game.”

You looked to the lingerie strewn on the bed and gulped. You should’ve locked the door. Why hadn’t you locked the door?

“Go on, change. I’ll wait out in the hall,” He coaxed, “I just…I like surprises, don’t you?”

He slowly backed out and closed the door. His weight shifted the wood as he leaned against the other side. Whether you did what he wanted or not, he’d come back in and make you. He had crafted the situation so well. You couldn’t say no, even if you could’ve found your voice.

It was two minutes before you found your wits. You looked down at your bathing suit and shook your head. You peeled it off and let it pool at your feet. You stepped out of it and untangled the purple panties. You pulled them on, though it was no easy task to figure them out. The bra was easier though it offered just as little coverage.

You peeked at your body. The top of your breasts propped up by the underwire, only the top of your vee hidden by the lace. A gentle tap came at the door. “You okay, sweetie?”

You flinched. Your shock slaked away and you forced your feet across the room. You couldn’t muster words, only opened the door to reveal yourself. He backed up and looked you up and down. He grinned and took your hand.

“You look amazing, sweetie,” His other palm tickled your side. He turned you down the hall and led you to the top of the stairs. “Come on.”

“Wh-where are we going?” You whispered.

“I meant it when I said I wanted you on that counter,” He tugged you down the steps as he descended on ahead of you. “I’ve been thinking of it since that first morning.”

“Steve…” You came to the bottom and planted your feet, “I…” You heart raced and you could barely hear yourself think.

“You don’t have to be scared,” He reached up to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “I won’t hurt you. Have I hurt you?”

You shook your head and looked down. He cradled your face in his large hand and pushed your chin up. He bent to kiss your lips. 

“It’s okay, sweetie, we’ll keep it slow.”

He walked backwards and led you into the kitchen. He pushed the dimmer up halfway and turned so that you were ahead of him. He guided you backwards and stopped you just beside the island. He leaned in and kissed you again. This time he pressed his tongue along your lips. You opened your mouth and let him explore. You’d never been kissed like that.

His hands grazed along your sides, from shoulder to hip and back again. He tickled your waist and gripped it firmly. He lifted you without drawing away. He slid you onto the counter, your legs hanging over the marble as he pushed between them. He buried his hand in your hair and dragged his lips from yours.

He bent as he kissed and nibbled along your jaw and neck. Then your shoulders and teased along your collarbone. He cupped your tits as he kissed the top of them and pushed his face between them. He nudged you back so that you fell flat against the counter top. 

He slipped the straps of your bra down your shoulders and pulled the cups past your breasts. You untangled your arms as he took a nipple in his mouth and the lacy bra slipped further down your torso. You shivered and he reached up to caress your cheekbone. He held your head in his hand, gently rubbing his thumb along your jawline.

He tended to you gently with his mouth. Pinched your nipple firmly with his other hand and you moaned. You were on fire at his touch. Your mind was a storm of shame and lust. You shouldn’t be doing this, but it felt so nice.

His hand continued down your body, along your stomach to trace the line of your panties. His finger delved past the lace to your exposed pussy and he ran his index over your clit. You twitched and he did it again. Your body responded without thought.

His mouth followed his hand and he got to his knees. He pulled you closer to the edge and hooked your legs over his shoulders. He replaced his finger with his tongue and you sighed. You clapped your hand over your mouth. You were shocked at your own pleasure. This was Kylie’s father; a man twice your age. It was so wrong.

His tongue chased away your doubts and you pushed your head back into the marble as he danced around your clit. He delved between your folds with his index and middle fingers. He dragged them along your pussy as his mouth played with your bud. Your wetness mixed with his saliva and he hummed.

“Sweetie,” He drew away just slightly and looked up at you, “You taste so good.”

You closed your eyes and covered your face with your hands. He reached up and tugged at your arms. You let your hands slip down and he guided them to the back of his head. He went back to work with his tongue and pressed his index to your entrance. He pushed inside just a little and you gasped.

He entered slowly and you trembled. His tongue eased the pressure and he moved his finger in and out. An odd sensation began to bloom. More intense than before. He added another finger and curled them inside of you as he toyed with your clit. Your legs tensed around his head and you latched onto his gold and silver hair.

You arched your back as the wave washed over you. So sudden, so sharp that you cried out and clung to him desperately. Your orgasm left you breathless and weak. He slowly pulled out as he raised his head. He licked your cum from his lips and fingers as he stood.

“Wasn’t that nice, sweetie?” Your head lolled back and forth as you crossed your arms over your body. The afterglow held you in a senseless haze. “It was, wasn’t it?” He cooed and began to unbutton his shirt.

You counted your breaths as they slowed and your vision cleared. He dropped his shirt to the floor, then his shorts. You peered down at him and removed his underwear with a smirk up at you. He stood and stroked his cock as he neared. You closed your legs and he softly touched your knees.

“Come on, sweetie, was that so bad?” He tickled your thighs, “Don’t you want more?”

You bit your lip and spread your fingers along your chest. You couldn’t look at him as you nodded and let your legs fall slack. He pushed between them and you shivered. The tip of his cock poked at your pussy and you lifted your head to look down at him.

“It’s okay,” His cock slid over your pussy as he bent over you. He slipped his hand beneath your head as he kissed you and his other hand ventured down your body. He pulled away and whispered. “Just a little bit of pain, sweetie.”

You pressed your palms to his chest as he rubbed his cock along your pussy. You could feel yourself getting even wetter. He groaned and lined himself up and you inhaled sharply. He kissed your cheek and pressed his lips to your ear. 

“Are you ready, sweetie?” He asked but didn’t wait for your answer as he slowly pushed inside. You whimpered as he entered you. Only a little before he paused and caressed your temple with his thumb. “Just breathe and relax. Remember.”

You closed your eyes and grimaced as he continued. There was a moment of resistance as he got further in and sudden pang. You yelped. 

“Steve,” You grabbed his shoulders and pushed on him. “Ugh, Steve,” You begged, “It hurts.”

He stopped and pulled out until only his tip was inside of you. He shushed and pushed in again. “Just a little more,” He said softly. 

He stretched you terribly as he went even deeper this time. You dug your nails into his shoulders as the tears pricked at your eyes. Your breaths were loud and thick. You were almost choking on the pain as he brought himself to his limit. He stilled and you whined through gritted teeth.

“You’re so tight, sweetie,” He wiggled his hips and you groaned. “Fuck.”

He eased out of you and you shook. He thrust back in, just as slow as before but it still hurt. He repeated the motion several more times, each easier than the last. Your arms slipped around his neck and he kissed you. His lips smothered yours as his pace grew steadier. The agony dwindled and soon you felt the familiar warmth. The pain was but an echo in the distance.

“There,” He said as he leaned his forehead against yours, “Doesn’t that feel nice?”

“Y-yes,” Your voice was small as your chest hammered. “Ahhhhh.”

“Yeah?” He picked up his pace just a little, “You like that, sweetie?”

“Y-y-yeah,” You clung to him and his head fell down next to yours. 

You moaned in his ear as you brought your legs up around his back. He got even deeper and you cried out. He went even faster but the ache was overwhelmed by the heat flowing through you. He thrust into you again and again and again. He never wavered, only sped up until your sweaty back glided along the marble.

You hugged him to you as he plucked at your nerves. They twisted to a point and shattered all at once. You exclaimed as you orgasmed once again and he groaned in your ear. His motion grew erratic and he pulled out suddenly. His hand pushed between your bodies and he stroked himself until his cum spilled onto your thigh.

He held himself up on his elbow as he looked down at you. His eyes were smoky; dark. He broke your embrace as he stood and glanced down at himself. His pelvis was streaked red. You blanched and sat up quickly. You peeked at the counter between your legs, his cum and your blood sticky along the marble.

“Aw, sweetie, let’s get you cleaned up,” He turned and grabbed a dish towel from a drawer. 

He wetted it beneath the faucet and returned to you. You stared down at the mess in shock. Had you really just done that? He wiped the blood away tenderly from your thighs before cleaning himself. Lastly, he sopped up the mess on the counter and tossed the cloth in the trash.

He came close again, his hands on your hips as he lifted you from the counter. He cradled you in his arms as he carried you through the door and to the stairs. “There’s a few more things I need to show you, sweetie…” He climbed the steps slowly. “We’ve only go tonight.”

...

END

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