#maybe i should go home for spring break to play with them

[opens-up-4-nobody]

I wanna play with Legos right now :-[

[lilystyles]

bloom.

part four of the no strings attached series by @lilystyles

no strings attached masterlist & main masterlist xxx

authors note part four is hereeeeeee!! IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE THIS. i was drowning in assignments these past few months which is why it has taken me so long. i am now on my winter break yay, so i should be able to update more regularly thanks for the patience and love XXXX

brief description y/n and harry go to dinner and something stronger blooms between them.

warnings! smut (f!receiving, blowjob, sex, cumplay, loss of virginity but is all very romantic) unprotected sex (pls wear a condom), swearing, alcohol abuse, overall just a mature read. around 11.6k words. (she's longggg omg)

inexperinced!virgin!reader x fwb!harry

* * * * *

Harry and Y/n had managed to keep their new ‘relationship’ a secret for a little over a month which Y/n was very proud of, normally she couldn’t lie to save her life. He’d come over most weekends or she’d go to his and they would eat food, sometimes they’d cook sometimes they’d go out, they would watch films, sometimes at home sometimes in the cinema. But by the end of the night after a few wines and with an old soul record playing in the background they’d pleasure each other. 

It was simply perfect. Whatever, wherever they were at was the happiest they had ever been. Except maybe the few Christmases they’d had together as roommates.

Y/n had never thought she could enjoy someone else’s company this much. Within time she grew the most comfortable she ever had been with someone. He’d seen her naked, he’d seen her cry, he’d seen her bleed, and he knew all of her secrets. She felt so free around him. It was a wonderful feeling, she only wished she could tell her other friends about it and how great it was. How happy she was, how happy he made her. This free feeling? Did they have that too? Is that why they’d always encouraged her to get a boyfriend and put herself out there?

But she knew it was just easier this way — their own little bubble. Keeping it their little secret. Sometimes things went to shit once they were said out loud. She’d noticed that and was worried if she shared it with them he would disappear.

They still hadn’t had sex yet, Harry wanted to wait for the right moment for that. He knew that virginity was a silly construct but he still wanted her first time having sex to be something she wouldn’t regret. He couldn’t live with himself if he ruined that for her. He didn’t want it to feel forced and corny and like it was this dramatic live changing event but he didn’t want it to be in the back of a car in a dark car park either. He wanted it to be a nice moment. She’d been ready for weeks, since that first night even. But when Harry told her waiting was the right thing to do she listened and was grateful for his delicate handling of the situation. He was more experienced so she listened.

She trusted him.

When Harry got a text from James that day that the guys all wanted to go on a camping trip for a long weekend in the middle of spring, he called her immediately. 

After a few rings, she answered. “Hi, Haz!” She sounded breathless but chirpy.

“Hey, Lovie.” He could hear clatter in the background. She must’ve been up to something. A loud bang echoed in his ear.“What are you doing, Cheeky?” He said in a playful tone.

She giggled. “I’m attempting to perfect a cookie recipe. I had a bit of an anxious day, so I needed a distraction.”

“Why didn’t you just call me? I’m happy to distract you.” He said softly, grabbing a jumper from his cupboard. He was about to ask if he could come over, not that he needed to at this point.

She wondered for a moment if he meant that in a sexual way or not. Because everything had begun to blur. Sure most of the time when she saw Harry they’d pleasure each other, but sometimes he just held her warmly in his arms. Sometimes they did nothing at all. What did it all mean? Sometimes he felt like a boyfriend, most of the time actually.

“I’m sure you have a life outside of being my distraction.” She said stubbornly, mixing the batter in the large bowl. Her arm was aching. The smell of spices and ginger filled her nose, her biggest struggle when baking was usually not eating all the batter.

“Not really. So, can I come over?”

She giggled again, softly. “Of course. See you in 20.”

“Getting in the car as we speak.”

“Drive safely please.”

He smiled. “Always, Bun.”

When he arrived at her apartment he barely had to knock before she had already opened the door. 

“Hi, H!” She chirped.

“Hi, Petal.”

She opened the door wide for him. “Come in.” She was in a pair of boxers he had left behind a few nights ago they were dark blue and a tight old One Direction shirt. She’d supported them in the early stages of their career, that shirt was from way back when. She was covered in flour and other cooking ingredients, looking as adorable as ever. Wearing those ridiculous bunny slippers of hers.

He shut the door behind him following her to the kitchen where something good was cooking. She was making another batch of her cookies (she was famous for them).

“I thought you could give these to Gem and Anne when you see them, you said they were coming down last time you were ‘round. Of course, you don’t have to. But I miss them, and they used to like my cookies.” She said shyly, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He never took his eyes off her.

He grinned stepping closer to her with his arms wide. “You are the cutest.”

She blushed. 

“You should come to dinner.” He pulled her into his chest, chin resting on her head. Smelling the scent of her delicious shampoo as he squeezed the plump flesh of her arms and shoulders.

She looked up, arms still wrapped around his hips, “That isn’t very friends with benefits of us though, is it?” Tucking her head into his chest, he smelt so good today. Like every day. The woodsy fresh bodywash he used was still very strong on his skin and his hair was extra fluffy. He must have showered this morning.

“I’d have asked you, either way, Love. Y’know Mum adores you. Gem too.”

She looked up. “Okay….When is it?”

“Tonight, that’s sort of why I wanted to come over. And, did you see the text James sent?”

She shook her head and walked over to the living room and found her phone buried underneath the dozens of blankets. She now saw the chat flooded with texts. 

JAMES

Hi guys! Is everyone free next weekend for the long weekend? Me and Daisy have planned a lil getaway at the beach. We would love to go all together like the old times. Bring a tent and gear. X

DAISY

 and bring your party pants!!

OLIVE

I’m so there. :))

FINNLEY

I’ll check, I’ve got exams coming up. 

But fingers crossed.

PENNY

i am definitely coming !!!

MICHAEL

Yes bet bet. Sounds like a plan

JAMES

Harry? Y/n? U two in?

She looked up. “Sounds nice, a lil’ getaway.” She liked the idea of doing nothing with Harry by the beach and amongst nature.

“I’ll go if you go.”

That made her smile and she looked down before typing.

me and harry shall be there xxx

After that, Harry managed to get roped into helping finish the cookie decorating before Y/n rushed off to get ready for dinner. Harry had booked a swanky restaurant, so Y/n felt like she had to dress up just a bit more than their usual dinners.

Once she was out of the shower, she stared annoyedly in her towel at her options. 

She remembered when Harry used to come home from touring and Anne would throw these big but intimate dinner parties and invite all his family and friends. Y/n could just wear jeans to that and they’d all bundle up around a bonfire after dinner and look at the stars. Harry and her would share a wine or two and it was simple. Harry loved how normal he felt with Y/n, even the memory of her was enough to ground him. He was glad she was back in his life, and he felt now he was ready for it and ready for her.

Harry came down the hall to her room and sat down on her bed grabbing one of her teddy bears and cuddling it in his big arms. The sight was rather funny, this big tattooed man and a little pink teddy bear cuddled up in pretty feminine soft-looking bedsheets. “I’ve got to change and pick some gifts up from back home before we go, is that okay?” He asked watching her dig through her clothes.

She nodded. “Of course! But what should I wear? What do you think?”

She was oddly nervous about tonight even though every Christmas when she went home to Holmes Chapel she went over to Harry’s Mums house for a drink and sometimes had the odd text with Gemma. She was still in contact with that side of her life it was just now she was Harry’s date to dinner. But she wasn’t his girlfriend but they’d think she was and what did that mean? Anne and Y/n’s mother had wanted them to get married for years now since they were around 10. Would this be the new talk of the town between all the mothers? She knew it was likely. Gemma was probably bringing her partner Michal, so it felt really official or something. 

He watched her, her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as she stared at her cupboard. 

“I’m just wearing a shirt and slacks. Simple.” He replied. “Don’t think too hard about it, you’ll look pretty in anything, Bun.”

“Harry, I bet all of your outfit is custom-made Gucci. I can’t compete with that!”

He bit his lip to hold back his laugh. “Lovie, calm down. Don’t work yourself up. Just wear somethin’ you feel nice in. If yeh’ worried about me caring that’s silly, I like yeh’ in anythin’.”

She remained frowning and started to dig through the dresses she had. She found one hidden amongst them, she wore it to her birthday once. It was a long golden slinky dress with lace detail on the hem and neckline. It was very delicate. And even though it was spring she knew it would still be chilly that evening so she grabbed a long brown coloured coat from off the door that she had been wearing most days to Uni. It was warm and woollen and she loved it.

Harry busied himself by scrolling through his phone while she got ready. It didn’t take her long, once she was happy with her outfit and had added a light pink scarf, a handbag and some shoes she went to the bathroom to do her makeup and hair. 

She had already blow-dried her hair before and it was in a lovely natural state so she didn’t bother changing it. For makeup she kept it simple, only enhancing her features. When she was ready and came out Harry looked up upon the clicking of her heels. 

His cheeks turned pink at the sight. Jesus. “Beautiful, Bun.” He felt no words could do it justice.

She blushed a bit too at those words and that admiring expression of his. “Thanks, Harryyy. Ready? I’ll get the cookies and lock up and then we can go, okay?”

He nodded at her standing up and following her lead as she’d put the cookies into a tin. 

Once she grabbed everything else she needed they got in Harry’s car and headed to his house.

Y/n was browsing Harry’s playlists and noticed a new one in there which was unnamed only with a pink heart as the title. He wasn’t really paying attention to her on his phone, his hand was carelessly thrown on her thigh and the other the wheel, they were both pretty silent, it was calm. So he didn’t notice her scrolling through the songs — it was this soft, romantic, sleepy, soul playlist. Full of a lot of her favourites and it felt like a cosy evening. So she put it on and placed his phone back into her lap. 

Harry’s ears pricked up at the sound of the song, she’d found the playlist. Was it obvious it was for her? Well, about her?

“You found it.” He whispered, the song was only softly playing as background noise. He didn’t have the radio up loud. So she heard him.

“Yeah, it’s like all m’favs.” She said, smiling gently. 

He contemplated saying it, feeling his heart speed up as he spoke, “I made it f’you.”

She finally met his eyes and gave him this dazzling toothy grin. “Aw, that’s nice, Haz. Really sweet.” She leaned over kissing his cheek. She laughed when her lipstick left a stain and she rubbed it. “Sorry.”

He just gave her thigh a squeeze in reply worried he might reveal himself if he said anything else and a few songs later they arrived at his house. He told Y/n she could wait in the car because it would take him 10 minutes max to get dressed. 

She nodded and scrolled through her Instagram while she waited and then replied to a text from her Mum before she turned her phone off and waited in silence. He was quick as promised and when he came out the door he was looking devilishly handsome. 

She felt her body react to it. Her cheeks turned pink, her pupils grew in want, and her hands itch to touch him. Her heart was hammering against her chest and she felt a familiar twist of want in her stomach. He was in a silky black shirt that was long and tight on his muscular arms, his buttons were undone and showed off his tattoos. Which reminded her of when he had his long hair and he was this pure sex god rockstar of a man. He had a pair of black flared pinstripe trousers to match and a pair of black boots with red detailing. He looked so good she wanted to faint. She felt her thighs squeeze in want and she sighed at herself, don’t be such a perv!

He had added some extra rings and jewels from his usual bundle. Something caught her eye. It was this golden pendant with a moon and star on it, she’d bought it for him for his 19th birthday, when they first started living together. She hadn’t seen him wear it in a long time, she’d forgotten she’d even bought the thing. Y/n remembered buying it. Harry had been with her, they were at a market full of random things looking for cheap furniture for their place. 

They were walking past this large jewellery stall and both admired the rings and style. It was different from the normal places they’d seen. They had tonnes of it. A glint of something gold had caught her eye, it was that pendant. It was one of the only gold among the silver. She touched it in admiration and Harry peered over her shoulder, saying it was pretty and he liked it. Harry said he thought it was cool and matched a lot of his other jewellery. But without much thought, he walked off to look at some couches in the next stall. 

Y/n knew his birthday was coming up and asked the jeweller how much it was. He was this eccentric gentleman, who smiled at her. Showing the matching ring to her which was very dainty and feminine that she didn’t even think would fit Harry’s fingers. She explained that she just wanted the necklace as a gift for someone. But he said that he would not sell either piece without the other. At the time he explained it was made for two lovers, so they’d always be together, but Y/n replied it was just for a friend, truly believing he was just trying to get more money out of her. But now looking back she and Harry loved wearing them and matching. It cost her more money than she could afford at the time but she was drawn to it. Something magical in the crafting of them.

Her hand reached over to touch his neck fingers touching the chain. “Oh, my god. I forgot about that.”

He grinned. “Found it the other day.”

She wished she knew where the ring was. “I remember that ol’ thing.” Sometimes when she was in the crowd or if Harry knew she was watching the show, in the early stages that is, he’d lift up the pendant and kiss it or touch his heart where it lay. Especially if he was playing a song Y/n liked (or that was secretly about her). Sweet Creature was one he wrote for her.

When they arrived in a rather fancy area of London with very expensive restaurants and hotels, Y/n could’ve laughed. They’d both grown up okay, but they were just normal working-class families and they weren’t spoiled. She wished she could go back and tell young Harry who was always working away on his singing that’d he’d be here. She wished she could run into the bakery and tell him he’d be the most famous man ever. Tell both the young kids who were working selling pastries and bread that they would be here in a short time, together.

The valet collected the car and Harry slinked his hand into hers when they stepped out, and Y/n thought she spotted someone giving them a double-take. They quickly entered the restaurant, and the concierge took their coats for them. 

The restaurant was warm and heated, with all these crisp white tablecloths, mood lighting, and crystal glasses. The waiter immediately guided them to their table which was a fancy booth and Anne was already there waiting. She got up and instantly pulled Y/n into her arms. 

“I’m so glad Harry brought you, Darling! It’s so good to see, look at that gorgeous face of yours.” She squeezed her cheeks and kissed her forehead leaving a big mauve-coloured lipstick stain there. Y/n grinned so big and pulled her back in for another hug whispering sweet comments.

Anne was so lovely, Y/n had always loved her. She made one of her favourite people, and it made sense why he was so respectful and kind. So perfect.

Harry was next to be welcomed, bending down to be fussed over in her arms. Anne questioned if he’d been eating enough and began a tangent of worried remarks. He was such a momma’s boy, he could only smile gently at her.

When Gemma and Michal arrived they greeted Y/n too with hugs and kind comments and once their meals arrived all her tensions eased. She now knew she had been silly to worry. Harry’s family were just as lovely as him. She knew that already and this pressure of her being his date was stupid. They already liked her, they knew her, and they’d seen her grow up beside Harry. She was just Y/n and he was just Harry.

They ate wonderful dinners and drank expensive brands of champagne, along with some fancy French dessert Y/n had never tried that Harry insisted she ate. It was a perfect night and she was sad to say goodbye to them all. When Harry dipped to the bathroom for a minute Anne pulled her aside. 

“I’m so glad you two are getting closer again, you’ve always been my favourite of his girlfriends. And these cookies! So delicious, I love when you send them over at Christmas time. Harry steals the whole thing of them, usually. No one can keep their hands off them. Ever thought of selling them?”

“Thank you, Anne. Thanks for letting me come, I hope I didn’t intrude on your family night.” She didn’t have the heart to tell her otherwise. She wished she was one of his girlfriends and she was glad someone appreciated her cookies.

When Harry back came from the bathroom he saw Y/n hugging his mum, and his heart melted at the sight. 

Y/n was good with people, and his family had always loved her. She was so gentle and well-mannered. Their Mums were very close too which helped. When they had drifted Anne still updated him that Y/n was doing well, and he was always pleased to hear that.

Harry said his goodbyes too and promised them something about bringing Y/n to another family catch-up, she just smiled warmly with pink cheeks at the idea. She was leaning into his side, his big arm draped over her shoulders as he kissed her temple. 

The valet handed Harry the keys and they slid into his car before driving back home finally. It was around 10 in the evening and Y/n was absolutely blissful, her hand had found his lap stroking his thigh gently as a light patter of rain began to fall down on the windows. 

“You were wonderful tonight. Mums’ always loved you though, Petal.” His eyes were on the road but he was grinning anyway — unable to contain it. He felt so fucking happy.

She grinned softly. She was pretty sure she was all heart eyes for him right now. She imagined she probably looked like one of those cartoons where the guy sees a pretty woman walking down the road and his eyes pop out and his head starts spinning. 

“Thanks for bringing me, Harry. It was lovely. I had a really nice night.”

He looked at her as if to say ‘duh’, “Of course, I’d bring ya’ I know we didn’t talk for a while there, but I thought of you a lot. And y’know Mum, loves ya’. You’re very important to us all.”

She looked away from him blushing down at her free hand before nodding, and softly replying. “I thought of you too. Why didn’t you come to Mum’s New Year’s party? I waited for you the whole night…”

He sighed thinking back to what she was talking about. 

“I was in Japan.” He replied. “I really did contemplate flying back just for the party, but I wasn’t sure if y’wanted me too.”

She looked over at him. “I didn’t know that.”

“I know.” He replied softly.

The rest of the car journey was quiet, the gentle hum of the radio played along with the sound of rain softly hitting the glass. Harry didn’t speak he just moved his hand onto his thigh where hers rested, giving it a squeeze.

It didn’t take long to arrive back at his house, Harry opened the door for her and they quickly rushed inside to avoid the rain it had grown heavier and more wild. Y/n stepped inside first with a sigh, and Harry was not far behind. His hands slid onto her hips and lower stomach, and he kissed her neck just below her ear. 

She giggled, her hands finding his. He began to whisper sweet nothings to her but was cut off by her phone ringing. He grunted in annoyance but she said she had to take the call. 

He didn’t let go of her, clinging to her childishly and nuzzling his head into her soft shoulder. 

“Hi, Mum.” She said into the phone, Harry paused his touch.

He could hear the sound of Y/M/N over the phone muffled.

“Anne already told you?” Y/n wanted to laugh. She looked at Harry who sighed, of course, Anne had already rung Y/n’s Mum. 

“No. We aren’t dating Mum. We are just friends.” She sighed. Harry chuckled. 

They weren’t just friends now. Friends don’t make each other cum, they don’t kiss, or see each other naked, friends don’t do what they do. They were way past that line now. He knew her inside and out and now he knew her more intimately than anyone ever had. Harry wondered if he’d ever have the balls to approach the subject of their relationship and where he stood.

“Mum, we were never dating. Please stop telling people he’s my ex-boyfriend.” She laughed. Her Mum was a funny old thing.

“Okay, I gotta go now. Bye, Mum.”

The muffled voice spoke again.

“Yep. Yep. Okay. Love you too. Bye.” She let out a big sigh hanging up the phone. 

Harry was taking off his shoes and belt, he seemed sleepy but content. He was sat on the couch, he’d turned the mood lighting on. It was this warm glowy orange hue that washed over the room. He looked up upon hearing the end of the conversation.

“What is it with Mums?” He teased her as leant back against the plush white sofa. Y/n described it as sitting on a cloud. She napped on it all the time. His legs were all spread out and his head was thrown back.

Harry was so fucking hot. All the time. Did he never get tired of looking so handsome?

She shrugged, walking over to sit beside him and threw her legs up so she was laying on his lap. Her cheek rested on his thigh, and Harry’s painted fingernails scratched the roots of her hair. She made a little content sigh, letting her eyes flutter shut. Him touching her was like heaven.

“Mm. Feels nice, Harry.” He let out a little chuckle. She was practically purring from his touch, all curled up on his lap. Her hands were resting on his knee, and he found himself admiring them. So dainty and delicate. Sometimes he pondered adding a ring to that finger of hers. He thought she’d be a very good person to grow old with. She loved routines and nights in, but she was witty and intelligent, though she loved simplicity she was definitely not boring. She kept you on your toes.

He wanted to stay like this forever. She was practically falling asleep in his lap, like putty in his hands. She made the odd sigh or moan in contentment every now and then as he let her destress. 

She had been a bit stressed with Uni and her life at the moment, the work of it all was hard right now, so he wanted to do anything to help her calm down. The dinner had been a nice distraction for her, and she seemed a lot happier that evening than the text he had received from her that morning. 

She rolled over to her other side so her face was near his hip nose grazing against his skin which smelt so fucking good — he used this expensive woodsy cinnamon soap it made her want to lick him all over. He continued his slow and delicate scratch on her head and his other hand rubbed her exposed back. Her hands moved to under his shirt, trailing along his fern tattoos and grazing the wisps of hair that lead underneath his waistband. Her nose grazed his skin as she tiredly nuzzled into him, feeling her eyes shut. She felt so safe in his lap and arms.

It was so domestic. They had become so domestic. He wished every day he could come home and say something cheesy like ‘Honey, I’m home!’ and scoop her up into his arms and kiss her silly. He longed for nights like this watching TV as she rested on his chest, moving with the rise and fall of his chest. He wanted the mornings too. When she grumpily didn’t want to wake up unless it was from kisses and a coffee.

“Do y’want some wine?” He asked her, his voice all raspy.

They’d only each had a glass of champagne with dinner which had long since faded. Leaving them very sober.

“Sure. Red?” She asked sitting up. Her hair was slightly messy from his playing with it.

He nodded his hand finding her chin and lifting it up. “Whatever y’want, Lovie.” He kissed her forehead before getting up and moving to the kitchen. She finally took her heels off and removed her scarf placing them on the floor. She stood up, feeling the soft rug on her sore feet. 

She leaned down to the coffee table lighting some candles of his. She lit a soap-smelling one and then a lavender one. Then once she was happy with that she walked over to his records and looked for something nice to play. 

She stumbled upon a Marvin Gaye one and she giggled to herself. It was kind of cheesy love making music, so she picked that one. She placed the record down on the turn table part and placed the stylus down. It began to hum a gentle sultry song and she moved back to the couch. 

When Harry came back she was laying on the couch, spread out as she hummed along to Marvin Gaye. In his hands, he had a bottle red all the way from New Zealand and two pink-tinted wine glasses. 

He laughed at her. “Look at yeh, Minx.” He teased. 

She smiled up at him, her dress was hiked up and she looked like the embodiment of idleness. She sat up so he could join her and he poured them both a glass.

They only had two glasses each before Y/n started to droop tiredly against his shoulder. He found her particularly adorable like that. When he finished his final sip he helped her up so they could go to sleep, he blew out the candles too. She followed him lazily up the stairs and into the bedroom, arms wrapped around his waist and tummy. 

He found a random Fleetwood Mac shirt and some grey tracksuit pants for her to wear in one of his messy drawers.

She changed out of the dress and was so happy to get her bra off. It was this pretty lacy one that had Harry frothing at the mouth. Her undies followed once he began to change as well. He found a pair of black silky sleeping pants and didn’t bother with a top.

She followed him to the ensuite and found the cotton pads and makeup remover he had just for her. She began to wipe off the makeup and was glad to be rid of it. He was brushing his teeth silently beside her and she watched him through the mirror. He caught her and gave her a wink. 

She just made a little kissy face in response. He smiled against the toothbrush, a rim of foam around his lips. Once she was done with all that she threw the rubbish into the small bin beside the toilet. 

“Do you have face wash?” She said quietly.

He nodded, spitting into the sink. “Just up there.” He pointed to the cupboard which was also the mirror. 

She opened it, rising on her tip toes for a second.

“Blue.” He replied. She squinted trying to find the blue bottle, he had an array of skincare products. She saw a big dark blue bottle, she reached for it and he nodded showing her that was the right one. 

They both washed their faces together and he smiled watching it foam up against her skin. Once they had washed their faces Y/n finally brushed her teeth and they went to bed. 

She sighed slipping into the big fluffy bed. He had some pale blue sheets on this week. He slid in beside her wrapping his strong arms around her and pulling her into him. He nuzzled his face into her neck and shoulder, the very slight stubble nipping her skin.

The backs of her thighs pressed against the front of his, her bum pressed up nicely against his soft silky pants and his hands squeezed the soft plump of her tummy in comfort. It wasn’t particularly late, but they loved to be inside Harry’s big bed and just cuddle.

“Y’were just perfect tonight. How someone hasn’t swept y’up and kept yeh I dunno…” He whispered kissing the top of her header, nose brushing against her hair, inhaling her shampoo. 

She flushed. “No one’s really tried, H.” He made her heart pick up at the comment. This man and his flattery.

“Lucky f’me. Means I can have ya’ all ta’ myself.” It was meant as a joke, but honestly, he selfishly did want her all to himself. She was so perfect.

She giggled. “Lucky you.”

He squeezed her closer and tighter. She giggled some more, wriggling in his grip. One of his hands moved to her upper thigh. She stopped and leaned into the touch. They didn’t talk they just started to relax into a sleepy silence, the chilly air making them want to bask in each other’s warmth even more.

He kissed her shoulder every now and then soothingly and Y/n shut her eyes. Basking in the feeling of him. His presence made her feel so safe she wanted to sleep often.

“Harry, do you ever think about how long we’ve known each other?” She asked randomly, as his hands continued to rub her body feeling her soft skin against his palms.

“All the time, Petal. Why?” He said softly, his voice was all raspy and gravelly. It made her feel something in the pit of her stomach. He made it even harder for her not to beg for him, this waiting game felt like edging.

“It’s just funny to me how much we have changed, but also how little we have too. I mean we’ve known each other since what? Daycare? And that little boy is still you…”

He understood exactly what she meant. Some things would never change about Harry even with age. Like, he would always be kind and always make an effort. He would always have 3 sugars in his tea unlike, Y/n who would prefer none. He would always enjoy cheesy romance films and love the idea of love. He will always admire old couples walking down the street. And she would always see the more practical side to love. 

She thought back to when they were younger teenagers and how he was rather distant from her in the sense that they were in the same friend group but funnily enough never really talked alone. Then she remembered that in their final year at school Harry, who had refused to dance with anyone else, asked Y/n to dance with him because he knew she’d been waiting for the boy she fancied to ask her all night. Sitting all pretty by herself, feeling like her efforts had been a waste. Only to find herself in the hands of him, spinning and laughing underneath the disco ball.

Then in University when they found out they were going to the same place they naturally found an apartment together, with a slight push from their mothers. Who felt at ease knowing their babies would have each other. Which was weird at first but soon they were at a furniture shop testing mattresses and giggling. 

She never felt uncomfortable around Harry, but once she was close to him she knew she was done for. She knew that for the rest of her life, she’d want him. Crave him close to her. He kind of felt that too, but in a different sense. 

It was more like they kept finding each other unplanned. During school they’d had so many lessons together, sitting with each other quietly. After school, his Mum had her family over for a meal. Then sometimes at the bakery, where they served familiar faces, and between breaks they sipped hot chocolate together. At the end of year dance Y/n and Harry were the only two without dates, and so he danced with her. When University rolled around no one else was going, and of course, Y/n had accidentally by luck of the draw picked the same school as him. They both happened to need a roommate and then they were roommates, then finally best friends. It was as simple as that, it just fell into place with her. He never forced anything. 

Oh, how he loved those memories of being her roommate and best friend. Whenever he thought back to those times he couldn’t help but grin. Neither had ever anticipated anything that would happen — him famous, and her here with him, cuddled in bed.

“It’s like we can’t not be in each other’s lives. You’re always there for me, showing up.” Was all he could manage to say. 

It’s true, when they had drifted and he did a tour for his first album she came to a show with her own money. 

Anne had called her up explaining in a panic how nervous he was for this tour. It was his first without the band. So, with little thought Y/n went in support because no one else could make it, Anne and Gemma both had stuff they couldn’t back out of. Anne knew Y/n would do it for Harry. Everyone knew she’d do just about anything for him except, well, him.

She was in the front row, dressed in a familiar outfit that took him back in time. It was this lavender dress from their school days. She’d worn it to the dance. It was bouncy and had big puffy sleeves, all short and fluffy.

He hadn’t expected it at all.

He came out, dancing and going wild for one of his louder and more upbeat songs. When he finally greeted the crowd he scanned them and said politely. “Hi, I’m Harry!”

She rolled her eyes. How was he still so devilishly charming?

He spotted something familiar, someone, familiar. Her eyes, her smile, and that dress took him back. Suddenly he felt like he was at home, in Holmes Chapel and he was just singing karaoke with his old friends. 

“Y/n?!” He said with a grin. Completely shocked, he shook his head in a puppydog like manner. The few longtime fans in the crowd cheered loudly, knowing her from photos off his Instagram. Anne had a few up on her Instagram too and they seemed to love Y/n in the comments (mainly).

She waved at him. Mouthing, “Hi, H!” She couldn’t contain her smile.

She could see in his eyes how much it meant to him. They got all glassy and soft. Even if they hadn’t spoken in a while she calmed him down immediately. He hadn’t realised how much having her there would calm him. 

She was like chamomile tea, a warm bed, all things nice and calming.

“Thank you for being here, for those of you who don’t know, Y/n is a very old friend of mine. We worked together in a bakery.” He jested.

Y/n giggled.

It felt right for him to sing this song next, “This next one is Sweet Creature.”

“I’ll always be there for you, H. You know that.” She said tenderly.

He rolled her around to face him so he could see her pretty face spewing these kind words. This deep pensive look in his eye. “I’m…I’m really glad you’re here with me…in this moment…this time in my life. I never really noticed how mundane life felt until you came back into mine.”

She felt herself melt like ice cream sitting in the blistering sun during a summer day. She kind of wanted to cry at how sweet he was. Harry wasn’t even her boyfriend but shit these feelings. They were real. Her body went even softer in his arms.

She lifted her hands up from her sides to his cheeks pushing his head down so she could lean in and place a kiss on his forehead. His hair smelt delicious like soap and peppermint.

He hadn’t expected that but he felt himself flush pink. The innocent touches are what made him blush the most. She was so gentle with him. 

“Oh, Harry.” She sighed, pulling away and tucking a stray curl of his behind his ear. “Me too.”

He smiled leaning forward. “Can I kiss you?”

Y/n rolled her eyes teasingly. “Of course.”

His hands slid around to her back, blunt nails scratching her skin perfectly underneath the Fleetwood Mac shirt. He leaned forward into her lightly pecking her puffy lips, remaining very gentle at first. Her hands moved to his neck fiddling with the hair that rested there as she leaned into him. She threw her leg up to his hip and he moved one of his hands to stroke it gently. It was so soft and romantic. 

As the kiss began to deepen she gripped his shoulders trying to press her chest even closer to his wanting to be as close to him as possible. He hummed softly, feeling her tits press into him. Her nipples were hard and he wanted them in his mouth. 

“Mm, you’re perfect.” He muttered against her lips.

She smiled into the kiss, and he used that as an excuse to slip his tongue in ever so slightly. That’s when the kiss began to grow more fiery and passionate. He nibbled her lip and pulled her body even closer letting her roll on top of him as she mewled. 

Her hips rocked needily against his silky pants and he moved his kisses down her jaw and neck peppering them frenziedly, loving the little whimpers and whines that escaped her lips. Which only spurred him on to continue further down to the top of her chest.

The way she was rocking against him was making him lose his mind. Her hands clawed his chest as she whispered quietly. “Please, Harry.” 

This tension had been building for weeks. She wanted him so fucking badly. It was always on her mind, and it was honestly distracting. She’d been trying to write an Essay that morning and all she could think of was him, and in a horny flurry, she imagined him bending her over the desk. Making her scream with pleasure as he often did.

“S’good f’me, Baby.” He breathed out. Hands finding her hips now, forcing them harder against him. Thinking filthy thoughts of him burying himself in her dripping pussy. 

Her lips pressed into his shoulder and then slowly moved down the side of his body, kissing along his tattoos, biting and licking some parts of his tanned bare skin. Until she was finally by his waistband, her pink chipped fingernails teased his snail trail of hair that led to underneath the silk. His skin was so soft there.

His eyes became all hooded, animalistic-like. He was looking at her like he wanted to eat her. But he remained calm and gentle with touches. His hands found her hair, all his rings were off so she felt no sting of metal on her skin. His fingers were running through it delicately and moving it away from her beautiful face.

“Prettiest girl in the world.” He muttered and she blushed resting her cheek on his thigh. 

“Thank you, Baby.” She sighed. 

She only ever let those pet names slip during these moments and it made him so fucking needy for her. He just smiled softly, at ease. “Of course.”

“Can I taste you, H? Please?”

He let his eyes shut and he softly whined as her hand palmed against his pant-covered cock. He was stiff beneath her touch, and she could feel him throbbing at the contact. “You can do whatever you want to me, Angel.”

She giggled teasingly giving his prick a firmer squeeze. “Don’t promise me that. We’ll never leave this bed.”

He took a shaky breath at her words, she was just so fucking hot without even trying. She literally just spoke her mind, and it had him frothing. 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” He replied breathily.

He opened his eyes, thinking back to all those nights in school when he’d dreamt of her sexually. He’d felt guilty a lot of the time for it of course, but she was just so fucking pretty and sexy without realising it. Like when they went swimming during the summer and she wore this cute little pink floral bikini, he would go home and in the summer heat, he would imagine it was her wrapped around him. He’d probably wanked to every filthy fantasy he’d ever had. Her sucking him off, maybe him fucking her throat watching tears spill from her eyes. Him eating her pretty pussy and making her feel so good she saw stars. Making love to her softly and romantically as she deserved, and sometimes he thought of fucking her roughly and needily. In different positions for hours. All the ones he could think of. But every time he came, he’d come back to and realise it was just his fist and not her mouth, hand, or precious pussy.

But now she was here in front of him, eyes all big looking up at him, ready and eager to take him into her mouth. She was real and she wanted him.

“Yes, Angel.” He rasped.

These moments always felt surreal to him. Especially because of how well they knew each other, now that they had started to explore each other’s bodies it was the most vulnerable they had ever been. No one would ever know them better than each other. 

Which is why her hand that was ghosting over his thick cock made him feel so close already from a mere touch.

She was dream-like.

“Mmm.” He whined. He was sensitive to her touch always, but tonight it was more than usual. They both pulled his pants off together so she could rest between his thighs, her mouth right in front of his leaking pink tip.

She was feeling a bit more vocal tonight. He loved it. “You have such a pretty dick, Harry. So big and veiny.”

He laughed softly, his hand running through his hair which had fallen into his eyes. “You think so?”

“I never really thought I could actually feel that way until I saw yours. It’s so pretty like the rest of you. It makes sense you have such a nice cock, it matches.” This new side to her had him dying in want.

God, he just wanted her so badly. He wanted to feel those pink slick lips around his cock, and watch her take him into her tight throat. Last night he’d even cum to the thought in the shower.

“You’re so sweet to me, Bun.”

She gave a gentle smile in response before shuffling closer to his glistening prick. Pursing her lips slightly as a string of spit dripped landing on the ruddy head, his breath hitched at the contact. His hands gripped the sheets roughly. When she finally leaned down close to him she did a signature kiss like always. The sight alone was enough to make him cum.

“Such a good girl for me, Baby.” He muttered his hands coming up to her hair pulling it away so he could see her adorable face as she kitten licked against his slick shaft. Her face was flushed pink like always when they’d been kissing, so pretty. She clenched her thighs at that comment and he noticed, very well aware now how much she loved his praise. Loved being told she was good for him, because she truly wanted to be good for him.

Leaning down further she fully enveloped his tip into her mouth, her tongue was a welcome contact against him and he whined loudly. “Fuck.” He said softly and involuntarily throwing his head back.

She had gained more confidence since that night on New Year’s Eve, she knew how he liked and had learnt to make him cum in mere minutes now. She had learnt to take most of him in her mouth too. Which she was surprised she could do considering how large he was.

As she swallowed him deeper into her mouth he heard a little choking sound as she went deeper than usual. Her nose grazed his navel and he cried out. She was taking him so fucking deep, the trail of hair tickled her noise.

“Shit, just like that sweet girl, so fucking good, deep. Fuck.”

She began bobbing her head faster and could feel him throb against her tongue, she would never be used to how large she was ever but she had started to learn ways to take him. He moaned loudly, unable to contain himself at her rapid pace. She pulled up for air for a second her hand coming down to stroke his slick cock at the loss of her throat so he wouldn’t miss her touch.

“H, y’can guide my head, it’s okay. I wanna make y’feel good. Move your hips too if that’s what you want.” She said slightly out of breath, spit and precum dribbled down her chin.

He looked at her eyes for reassurance and he saw a content look in them. “Okay, Love, just tap my legs if it’s too much.”

She nodded. “Ok, H.”

He smiled and she moved back down, taking a deep breath before she took him back into her mouth. He sighed, “Ah, mm.”

His hands had moved into her hair holding her head soft yet firm on his cock, when she made it to about halfway around him her tongue was swirling delicately against his engorged prick and he felt so close to cumming already. It had only been a few minutes.

She was struggling to stop her legs from squeezing together, his sounds made her so wet she felt herself dripping down her thighs. He began to gently guide her head into a bobbing rhythm and he felt a drip of precum fall out his head and he knew if they’d kept this up in another few minutes he’d cum. 

“Oh god, Y/n, your so fucking perfect taking me like this. Letting me use you.” He uttered, “Such a good girl letting me take your mouth like this. So filthy. My filthy girl.”

She moaned softly against his twitching cock and he whined, pulling her head up off him. She took a large breath in. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” She said quickly. 

He shook his head quickly. “No, you were fucking perfect, I just don’t want to cum yet.”

She looked at him, eyes all doe-like and lips sticky with his slick. Cocking her head to the side, “Why not?” 

He moved his hands to her shoulders. “Let me take care of you, I wanna make you feel good. You’ve been so good for me today. Such a sweet little thing. Let me take of my sweet girl.”

My sweet girl. Y/n felt her heart skip a beat.

She listened but pouted at his request. Sad his cum wasn’t down her throat. “Harryyy,” She whined. 

“What is it, Love, hmm?” But he knew full well what she was whining about. It had been apparent from the first night that Y/n loved his cum. She loved making him cum. In her mouth, on her tits, whatever he wanted. She often daydreamed of it in other places. Harry knew this.

She just continued to pout. “Enough whining. Be good f’me.” He ordered. “Let me take care of you. ”

Her face remained pouty but she spread her legs for him anyway and he yanked her pants down in one motion, she opened her legs for him widely and his hands stroked her thighs feeling the soft skin there. He motioned for her to take her shirt off as well. She threw it across the room.

He moved his hand up to her mouth tapping against her wet lips, he did that when he wanted her to suck on them.  She opened her mouth for his fingers making sure to swirl her tongue around them just to tease him a bit. He moved his eyes from her glistening pussy to her mouth and cheeky expression. He pulled them away. The popping noise made him smirk. 

“I don’t exactly need the help, you’re already dripping for me.” He teased, running his newly lubricated fingers against her puffy clit.

She moaned as her hips stuttered against his gentle hand. He laughed at her.

She wanted to be embarrassed but this being the millionth time Harry was between her legs she had given up hiding how wet he made her. Most mornings he wanted to start the day that way, right between her soft thighs pressing into his cheeks. 

“How could I not be, Harry? You drive me mad.” She replied her hands moving to his hair.

He smirked biting his lip. The heat of his breath made her squirm against him and his nose bumped her swollen clit. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss there. The taste of her was sweet and tangy on his tongue, and he was addicted. He began to lap up all the leaking arousal, making a filthy sound in his silent room. 

Her moans were soft and freely escaping her mouth, thighs squeezing against him as she tugged on his soft hair. She felt at complete ease underneath his harsh tongue. 

All her stress was melting away with his lick and suck, this was such a good outlet for her worries. She only thought of him. His mouth, his moans, and his prick.

“Harry,” She whimpered at the feel of his firm tongue. “Shit.” She breathed throwing her head back into his pillows, screwing her eyes shut. 

She felt his fingers glide up and down against her weeping hole until he finally slipped one inside. Feeling her clench against him firmly, he wished he was inside of her right now. Her velvety walls were so wet against his hand and he felt her dribble onto his hand as he began to speed up his thrusts. He added another finger.

His tongue didn’t stop suckling on her clit and curled his fingers against her, feeling the way her pussy stuttered against his fingers in an irregular clench. A telltale sign she was getting close to the brink of her orgasm.

“Jesus, Harry, how are you s’good at tha’? Think m’gonna cum soon.” She purred as her hips lifted up and her back arched off the bed.

He pulled his mouth back for a moment, his fingers speeding up and going deeper, as he rasped from wet lips. “S’okay Baby, cum for me, let go. Be good n’ cum f’me. I want it.”

She let out a mewling whine, tugging his hair harder. It was as if his words was the final thing she needed before she felt the start of her pleasure rise in her stomach.

He quickly moved his mouth back down and felt her puffy clit throb against his tongue and a drip of her slick fell down his chin as she let out a guttural cry.

A wave of bliss spasmed from her stomach to her stretched-out pussy, and she felt it pulsate over her entire body. Her eyes squeezed shut and she tugged his hair hard enough that he grunted against her.

“M’cumming! Fuck!” She felt lightheaded.

He pulled up for air, pumping his fingers quickly. “Good girl.” He praised breathily. Spent from working hard to make her cum.

When he felt her come down fully from the high of her climax he pulled his fingers out and licked them clean. “Mmm. I love how you taste, Petal. Sweet.”

She let her thighs drop in fatigue and she lifted her hand to her sweating forehead. Her blissed expression made him grin.

“Fucking hell, Harry.” Her tummy clenched at his words.

Her hand grabbed his shoulder and he moved back on top of her pulling her into a chaste kiss. She could taste the tang of herself on his lips. His tongue slid against hers and he tasted of her. She moaned softly into his mouth. He pulled back, “You’re so beautiful.”

She bumped her nose into his. “Harry?”

He kissed her jaw, “Yeah, Love?”

“I want you inside of me. Please.” She sighed, pupils dilated. “I want to be close to you, Harry.”

“Are you sure?”

She mewled. “I want you so bad, Baby. Please.”

How could he say no to her? She was all sweet and whiny, and her naked in his bed. “Okay. I want that too.” 

He pecked her lips softly before pulling away. “Gimme one second.” 

He got up off the bed and moved over to his bedside table finding a box of matches and lighting the few candles he had there.

She giggled at him. “What are you doing?”

He just grinned, “Making it special, Lovie.” 

She felt her chest flutter and a big toothy grin made its way to her face. Harry knew that Y/n was more practical, he was the hopeless romantic out of the two of them. But he wanted to make Y/n feel special, he wanted to be sappy for her.

He got up again walking into his cupboard.

“What else are you up to back there?!” She said with a giggle. 

When he came back out he had a bag with something in it. It was hard for her to see because it was dark. She squinted trying to understand. 

“Hold on stay there.” He said nipping his lip, he grabbed a handful of contents from the bag. Before throwing them onto the bed around her.

She opened her eyes looking to her sides under the dim light, plucking one up in between her fingers. “Is that rose petals?”

“Yeah.” He smiled, scratching his neck nervously. “I know it’s cheesy, but I wanted you to feel special.”

She couldn’t believe he went to all that effort. 

“Anything else?” She prodded.

He smirked. “One more thing.” He pulled something out from behind his back. It was one of those cheap plastic roses and he put the stem in his teeth and raise his brows. 

She laughed loudly, gently pushing his shoulder. “You are so corny!”

He pulled the rose out of his mouth, offering it to her goofily, feigning a gentlemanly gesture. “Thank you for allowing me the pleasure of being the first. I feel so lucky. It’s truly a privilege.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh shoosh.”

“I’m serious. I know it’s silly, but I feel grateful that I can be with you in this way. You’re my best friend. You’re very special to me.” He said tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned into the warmth of his palm.

“You’re my best friend, H. I wouldn’t want anyone else to be my first. I trust you.”

He felt his heart swell and he moved back on top of her. His arms were straight beside her head. 

“Kiss me please.” She said breathily.

He moved his face closer, nose bumping into hers as he pecked her top lip. She met him in the kiss her hands glided over to his shoulders. Both their eyes fluttered shut. 

There was little urgency in their kiss, though Y/n felt herself ache for him but she felt no urge to rush him. Harry always liked to take his time. He used his free hand to slide down to her hip gently squeezing the flesh there. 

He started to scatter his kisses down along her jaw and nipped her ear. She sighed softly letting a moan slip in contentment. Her hands moved to his hair softly massaging his head. 

His kisses travelled further down to her neck and he sucked harshly against her nipping the soft skin, she hissed in pleasure and he licked back over the spot to soothe her. Her pretty sighs of contentment made him smile against her skin.

His lips grazed further down across her chest and he could hear the pounding of her heart. 

“Are y’nervous, Bun?” He asked, eyes looking up to meet hers.

She looked down at him. “A little but, I don’t need to be do I?”

“No, it’s just me.”

She smiled, moving a curl away from his forehead, “Just Harry.”

“Exactly, just me. But you know that if you wanna stop at any time you tell me. Or if it hurts, or for any reason just say it and I’ll stop. We can just cuddle, I won’t mind.” He replied. 

“I know, I will.” She said.

“Good girl.” He kissed her heaving chest as he moved further down lapping her nipple up into his mouth.

She squirmed her hips against the thigh that rested between her legs, he could feel how wet she was against his bare skin. “Ah,” She cried softly.

His free hand massaged the tit that wasn’t in his mouth softly. Her back arched into his touch. “Oh, Harry, you are so good at that. Fuck.”

He chuckled lightly moving back up to her face. “You ready?”

She nodded. “Mhmm.” 

He kissed her forehead in response, pulling off her.

“Where are you going?” She grabbed his arms. 

“To get a condom.”

“No, it’s okay,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” 

He felt his prick twitch at her words.

“Okay.”

Her legs wrapped around his waist and he moved his free hand down to grab ahold of himself. She felt the head of his cock pulsating against her sensitive clit. “M’ gonna go slow, okay?”

She nodded, her chest heaving into his. “Mmkay.” She breathed.

He dragged the tip down to her weeping hole, hissing at the contact of it.

“You okay?” She asked.

He pressed his forehead into hers. “Yeah, you?”

She nodded. 

That was enough reassurance for him to start to slip inside, his cock was so heavy in need. Even though he had gotten her more comfortable and stretched for him with his fingers it still stung as he pushed inside. 

Only the head of him was inside and she already felt so stretched. 

“S’big.” She muttered.

He was going very slowly, his eyes trained on her face, and the pinched expression she was sporting. Worried that it was too painful. Knowing he was rather large. 

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, and she squeezed back. “Keep going, please.” She said.

He nodded in reply, slowly pushing his hips further. She sighed in discomfort, feeling the veins of him against her. She clenched and he hissed. Pushing further, he felt his cock splitting her open.

He noticed her eyes were glassy and a tear slipped from her eye as she bit her lip.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked rushedly. 

She shook her head. “No, keep going, just stings a bit.” She tried to explain. 

“Are you sure?”

She nodded, “Mhm.”

He rocked forward and he felt him slip into her further. “M’nearly there, Love,” He soothed, kissing her temple.

When he rutted one final thrust his balls pressed against her ass. They both whimpered at the contact. 

Her eyes were dilated as she felt completely full of him. “Shit, Harry.” Her legs were wrapped around his lower back holding him close. 

“You’re so tight, fuck me,” He whined. She was clenching rythmically around his throbbing prick.

“You can move,” She knew that soon the pain would become pleasure, it would melt away soon, it was already beginning too.

He buried his face in the side of her neck, smelling her perfume and natural scent as he moans grew louder muffled by her shoulder. His thrusts began shallow and slow and she whined loudly. Her arms wrapped around the expanse of his back and she scratched along his shoulderblades.

He hissed at the pain, loving the sting.

“Harry,” She cried out when he started to speed up into her, ramming against her sensitive spongey spot that made her lose her mind, he was the only one who could reach that deep inside of her. She felt him all the way in her stomach. She was already sensitive from her previous orgasm and was keening at the feeling of his slow needy rutting.

He whined at the feel of her clamping down on him. “Fuck, Y/n.”

The pain had subsided to pleasure, the sting hardly noticeable now. She squeezed his shoulder, “Feels good, H.”

He started to speed up now, pounding into her at a ruthless speeed. “Shit, Baby, feel s’good on m’cock.”

He was needily moving into her, as his head remained buried by her neck breathing in the delicious sent of her. It had been a long time since he’d had sex and since he had only been with Y/n for these few months now he’d only had blowies or handjobs, which were great don’t get him wrong, but nothing and I mean nothing compared to her wet tight pussy. God, he’d dreamed of it. Nights and nights he’d lay awake dreaming of it. Dreamed of burying himself in there deeply, and the little sounds it would make.

He knew the right thing to do was to wait, and he was so glad he did. But it meant he was worried he might cum inside her already, the tension building all this time meant he was so pent up. He just wanted to release all his sexual frustrations from these past few months. She was so perfect against his cock, like it was made to wrap around him. 

“Like this pussy was made for me.” He rambled.

“I can feel you in my tummy, H.” She whined shutting her eyes, and he pulled up from her should moving his hand to press onto the now bulging flesh of her tummy. With each pump he felt her clench against his prick and saw the faint bulge of his cock. He could feel himself with each thrust, as they both moaned.

He moved that hand from her tummy down lower to her swollen clit that was begging for attention. Rubbing harsh circles and her hips twitched. “Oh god, Harry,”

He wanted to feel her cum on his cock, he was desprate for the feeling, he could already tell she was getting closer to the brink from the stimulation on her puffy senstive clit and his thick prick pounding into her. The clamping of her pussy was growing irregular and when his thrusts went particularly deep inside of her, her eyes rolled back.

She felt euphoric, this white blistering hot feeling was shooting through her from head to toe. 

She was honestly surprised how good he made her feel, when she was younger and all her friends were losing their virginities they told her it hurt and that it was awkward. Or that they didn’t cum, and there was no foreplay. She had expected that Harry would know what he was doing, but even that didn’t live up to this moment. She had also known that it may not be as pleasurable until later on but she was feeling like she was on cloud fucking nine.

“You’re so pretty, such a pretty little thing.” He mumbled as he placed some kisses down her neck and along her collarbone.

She mewled her back arching into him. “Oh, fuck,” she whispered with a slight disbeleif in her eyes, “think you’re gonna make me cum, Baby.” 

He watched her with a sultry grin, as her eyes screwed shut and the hands that were on his back started to scratch along the tan flesh once again much sharper. “Don’t stop,” She panted. 

“Such a good girl f’me. Y’gonna come on my cock?” He asked teasingly, with a pant.

She could only whine in response, biting her lip at the intensity. 

“Atta’ girl. Be a good girl and cum on m’cock.” He praised. 

She started to shake, the feeling of his fingers still on her clit was pushing her to her orgasm. Her tummy clenched and she couldn’t contain her hips from squirming up into his. This intense wave of bliss rushed through her as waves of pleasure melted from her chest to her stomach all the way down to her throbbing pussy that was wrapped around him. 

Her heart was thumping in her chest as her entire body twitched in delight and climax. His prick never stopped it's pounding as he let her orgasm ride out. It was longer than the first one and like nothing she had ever felt before. She’d only dreamt of this kind of pleasure and usually Harry was the one giving it too her. She felt like it was an out of body experience, her head became lightheaded and stars appeared in her vision. She hadn’t even heard her self crying out, until she came back too. 

He slowed down to allow her a moment to catch her breath. Her pussy felt so senstive that even these more gentle and tame strokes had her basically sobbing with pleasure. 

“I’m close, Sweet girl,” He hissed and he began to speed up once more now his thrusts were sloppy and an uneven rhythm. Her orgasm had made him lose any last bit of control he had.

She could barely speak she was so spent. “Please,” She didn’t know what exactly she was begging for.

He pushed his lips into hers and trapped her in a kiss, her hands found their way into his thick hair which was coated in a light dampness from sweat. She moaned against them and he was whimpering into her swollen lips. He pulled his lips off hers for a moment as he whimpered a desprate, “Gonna’ cum.”

She managed to breath out a soft, “Cum for me Harry,”

The delicacy of her voice made him lose it and he felt his cock twitch in release, hot spurts of his cum shot up inside her and she felt him fill her up completely. He whimpered the most despratelty she’d ever heard and his head fell into her neck. “Fuck,” He breathed. 

Her pussy was still clenched around him tightly. “That was…wow.”

She giggled. “That was perfect.”

He lifted up from her shoulder and captured her lips into a kiss. It was long and tender and much softer than then the urgent act they’d just comitted. He itched to say it, those three words, but all that came out was. 

“You’re gorgeous, Y/n.”

“Thank you, Harry,”

He kissed her forehead. “Come on, let's clean you up.”

if you enjoyed please follow me to see the next parts coming soon ily 🫶 feel free to check out my masterlist xxx & feel free to request me too!!

[ficbrish]

Smoke Rings

[AO3 Link]

[Here we go! @flufftober Spring Edition 2024! Thank you for the prompt 🥰 March 13th - Spring Cleaning]

Rating: Explicit 18+ only!

tw/cw: Sexual content, cptsd, blood, alcohol, weed/mushrooms, smoking, sex while high, post-battle scenery, gore, death, hanging reference, an unserious small dick joke, vague reference to past incest and CSA

After the game, but before the epilogue, Astarion and Vistri find a new home in the Underdark.

END GAME/POST-CANON SPOILERS!

Exhausted and ragged, they looked at each other in disbelief and clasped hands.

Their last enemy had been cut down; the fortress finally won.

“I believe we have a home now, darling.”

Astarion’s voice was strained from shouting, and moisture clouded his ruby eyes. His words echoed hollowly, but they were real.

A home, in the Underdark. That kind of life had been snatched from Vistri at the vengeful end of a serving fork. Dear Uncle Hurzeth really should have learned to shut his mouth, but like most religious men, he wasn’t known for his humility or impulse-control.

Vistri’s name and birthright burnt to ash upon his funeral pyre; stuffed in the gullet of his perverse corpse. In seizing justice, retribution wrapped around her own throat like an executioner’s noose, diminishing her to the life of a wandering Surface vagabond. Never to have a home in the violet gloom again.

Until the Nautiloid came along playing matchmaker and diviner of fate.

Their homecomings were each other’s exiles. As she reunited with the permanent dark, Astarion was banished to it. All that illithid nonsense allowed the sun to lovingly grace his skin without burning it to cinders. Now sans tadpoles, or the sacrifice of seven thousand other vampire spawn, his bright star once more turned to poison.

Luckily, Vistri was all the sun he ever needed. She dwarfed the real one in comparison to how she brightened his days and left a pleasant tingling on his skin. Its daylight cast shadows, while her spotlight chased away all shade. Its radiant touch whispered and dissipated rather quickly, hers shouted and echoed endlessly.

And even when it was the other way around, Astarion turned Vistri’s prison into a sanctuary. Maybe it was Sune herself who blessed them, for the love they found taught them the true meaning of home.

Standing back to back in the blood-soaked corridors of their brand-new ancient fortress, all they’d really gained was an address.

And a place to keep their stuff.

And host parties at.

…And for teaching and protecting all the others who’d broken from Cazador’s heavy chains.

Tiredly they turned and fell into each other’s arms, bracing themselves against their weariness. The rush of battle still flared through every muscle as their heightened senses filled with nothing but the other. Relief vibrated into a livid need, so furious at death that it came alive.

Her whimper wouldn’t have been half as charming if she wasn’t so completely oblivious to it building in her throat. He dwarfed it with a moan, taking her lips tenderly between his.

Breaking apart, she sighed and swore, “I’d let you take me over these corpses.”

“Wouldn’t be very sanitary though, would it?”

She giggled senselessly and twirled from his embrace to survey the room. Unsuccessfully clearing the ecstatic happiness from her lips with a smirk, she said, “It’s a fucking dump.”

Astarion threw his head back and laughed with such relief it sounded like sobbing.

Having carved a path of carnage all the way from the gates to that final corridor, they had a clear way back to the others. The halls seemed a lot longer when they were fighting their way through them. And populated with more vampires.

At some point along their macabre stroll, Astarion suddenly stopped them. “But where are all the spawn?” he asked warily.

“Perhaps they’ve met up already?”

Uneasy shivers skirted his neck. He felt them despite being just out of reach. It was enough of a warning for him to suggest they continue carefully, slowly. Even if there was nothing to worry about, a little caution couldn’t hurt.

The reason for his misgivings became apparent as soon as they approached the courtyard. Apparently everyone had met up already. A veritable feeding frenzy played out before them. Ravenous spawn were covering the cadavers like carrion. It was like the Shadowfell had descended, warping them into a Domain of sickness. The risen dead devouring a small village.

They thought they’d learned everything to know about the Dhampir, but clearly their education was just getting started. Astarion was one vampire, and that’s all they were used to. This was a horde. No stranger to the sight of him ripping off a bandit’s head and drinking from it like a chalice, Vistri still froze in fear at the scene before them.

Growling instinctively, Astarion stepped in front of her. Territorial feeders, the spawn were spaced like pieces on a freshly set lanceboard. Even so, the crowd was denser over by the gates, where most of the carnage was concentrated. His siblings feasted among them. He couldn’t help the sense of superiority that dawned on him at the sight.

He might not have ascended at Cazador’s death, but in observing his brethren’s lowly acts, thought himself lord of them all. The blood they supped on was dead and dull, no matter how fresh and warm. Astarion had Vistri. He didn’t steal, because she gave. She came to him willingly, and her blood ran with drow and dragon, so vibrantly full of life it was as powerful as a storm.

Vistri pitied them. How hungry and desperate, how alone they all were. She looked at Astarion in a new beloved light. He was the one who brought them together, the one who would guide them all to be better. 

Astarion was the first one to get away, to learn to control his nature. He was the one who killed Cazador. He was the one who broke their chains, giving them another chance. He was the one who had something to teach all the rest.

He felt such a bitter disgust; none of them should ever be this desperate, this starved. Feed, he thought proudly, looking out, Feed to your fill. They’d do better than animals and cooling corpses soon enough.

Realizing they were senseless of anything but the bleeding bodies stacked in front of them, Astarion scooped Vistri into his arms like a bride to carry her across the courtyard.

“You will not be afraid in your own home. I’ll make sure no one gives you a reason,” he said it so surely, it was more a statement of fact than a promise.

As he walked past the growling, slurping spawn, Vistri hid her face in his breast like a nervous child. The world was dangerous and threatening, but she was safe in his arms. Still, the relief she felt was full-bodied when they passed under arches and retreated into the fortress.

He carried her though the blooded halls of time-forgotten stone, unsure of where he was headed. Just somewhere else away from the others, away from the marks of battle. Astarion searched until he was satisfied he’d found a corner that could be entirely theirs. It took him far down the corridors, climbing stairs where he saw the opportunity.

Arms aching, he gave up on perfection and settled for what seemed like it would do. As they crossed the chosen chamber threshold, he kissed Vistri’s cheek and said, “Welcome home, my love.”

She giggled as he set her down with an, “Ooof! ”

The room was too spacious to be a closet, and contained no hints of its purpose. There were chairs everywhere, some broken, none matching. A desk was placed haphazardly near the middle, or maybe it was a table. Wooden crates were stacked to the side in a disorderly way, like they’d been quickly stashed and forgotten. Vistri wanted to open them immediately. She spilled out of Astarion’s arms and tumbled towards them.

“Let’s see what we’ve got here!” she said, rubbing her hands together. She hit one with an ice cantrip.

“Careful!” he chuckled as the air around them chilled and wood cracked.

The crate didn’t open, the side just sort of froze.

“Blast!”

Spotting the way Vistri frustratedly pulled her foot back for a kick, Astarion picked her up and pulled her away. She fussed in his embrace like an angry cat.

“By the gods, you’ll break whatever’s in there,” he chuckled, “Let me do it.”

Vistri crossed her arms, “Fine.”

Alas! There was wine. After he put her down, he pried the crate open with one of his knives, revealing dozens of bottles inside.

“I could have done that!”

He chuckled warmly, “My dear, you would have shattered them.”

Hopefully it was good wine, because every bottle was the same. Knife still in hand, he twisted off the cork and tested the first sip. 

His face screwed up with bitterness, “Just give it a little time to breathe.”

Tittering at his reaction, Vistri yanked the bottle from his grasp and took an impatient sip. “It’s not… entirely rubbish,” she said, warily giving her judgment with a thoughtful expression.

“Give it a minute!” he laughed.

Defiantly, she took another sip.

“You little minx,” he smirked, snatching the bottle back. After setting it down on the floor, Astarion looped his fingers with hers. He sighed against her lips before kissing them. Vistri forgot all about the wine, even as their tongues tasted of it.

“Astarion,” she said, and he thought she was just saying his name until she continued, “Is there something else I can offer you to drink in the meantime?”

Her offer brought to mind the courtyard below. He was better than that because she allowed him to be better. She barely let him say it first, always begging to be drunk. In the way that other lovers would ask, Have you eaten today? Vistri tilted her neck and inquired if he wanted a bite.

Resting his forehead against hers, he said, “I am feeling a bit peckish.”

Vistri jumped blissfully into his arms. Her heart beat ecstatically in anticipation as Astarion brought her over to that table in the middle of the room. She felt like a cloth being draped across it. Her legs opened as he climbed over her.

Before he pierced her with his fangs, she pulled him into a rough kiss. His thigh pushed hers wider apart. He felt himself grind into her, his hips swaying in tune with hers. Their song eventually spilled off her tongue, and Astarion moaned too, making it a duet.

“Bite my lip,” she suggested.

Smiling, he submitted to her suggestion, as gently as he could. With the point of his fang, he sliced her open, groaning as the first drop of blood hit his tongue. Astarion feasted like a king among peasants. Vistri wriggled willingly, longingly under him. She kissed him as he sucked her lip and nibbled it, coaxing her nectar to trickle forward. While part of him reached a point of satisfaction, another starved. Ravenously, he pushed into her mouth. They passed her blood back and forth on shivering tongues.

“Astarion,” she sighed as he let go of her lip, and this time she was just saying his name.

Their fingers tumbled with their lacings; their knuckles clashing together in the rush to free themselves from their leathers.

“Can—?”

“Yes!” she pleaded.

It felt like laying claim; to each other, this fortress, their power, and life itself. The tight, stretching ache of one another ripped through their senses with the thrust of his hips. Pleasure sighed through every pore, rushing like a white river over their skin.

Ecstasy erased their sense of self, dissolving them together in its realm. They were safe now. They could spend their lives this way. They were home.

Free.

Little did they know that table had been stashed there over a weak leg. It gave out from the power of their movements, and the whole thing collapsed. Shrieking as they fell, it turned to laughter as they realized neither were hurt.

“Are you okay?” she laughed, and he kissed her in response.

“I almost broke my dick!” he cackled breathily.

Vistri got up first, still giggling, and offered a hand, “Careful, you’re surrounded by wooden stakes.”

She was little help with how weak her limbs were, both from the edge of fulfillment, and their sudden shock that’d blossomed into overwhelming hilarity. They burst into another round of it when he slipped and almost fell back into a broken table leg. Vistri had to catch him with her spectral mage hand.

Stumbling over the trousers they’d pushed down to their thighs, they chased each other to another corner of the room. Astarion caught her and spun her around into an innocent kiss that easily descended into depravity.

His arms felt like mush and their muscles begged screaming for some rest, but Astarion lifted Vistri up again anyway to push her back into the wall. Her thighs wrapped around his waist, taking care not to leave bruises as others did. He hadn’t asked for that yet. But at his command, she’d tighten into a vice-grip and leave behind a physical reminder of their embrace.

Gravity turned the wall into a bed. Like the arches bearing their new home, they found a force and a balance when pressing together that held up their wary, rutting bodies. Staring into Vistri’s violet eyes, Astarion found himself falling into the abyss.

“Wait,” he absently whispered, slowing his movements.

Caressing his cheek, worry infecting her tone, she asked, “Is something wrong?”

His chuckle was a growl, “More like too right.” He kissed her and groaned, “I’m not done with you yet.”

Trapping her hips against the wall, he held them still and started to gradually rock his. Only allowing as much as the tip was a delicious torture.

“More,” she groaned.

As her desperation serenaded his ears, Astarion could feel her tightening and shivering around him, begging to fill her completely. He wanted to give in as much as she did. Controlling her was sweet, but controlling himself was even sweeter. His denial was power, and it subjugated both of them.

“Cum for me first, and I’ll give you more.”

Faster, he pumped in and out, growing in tempo until her screaming rang painfully in his ears. She was already on the verge of it, and seemed to let go at his command. Her pulsing pleasure was rough on his tender head, overly sensitized from repetitive penetration. Love and vice sparked through him and a wonderful pressure built behind his eyes.

He wasn’t going to last much longer. As Vistri surrendered to ecstasy, she dragged him along like a sweeping wave. She was still tapering off the feeling when, unable to wait, he finally buried himself to his root.

Unintelligibly crying out at his thrust, they quickly lost themselves. Gazing eye to eye, they saw past reds and purples into the depths of their exposed hearts. It overwhelmed them, like a cleric beholding their god. Together, they fell into fulfillment with a swooping terror that felt like losing one’s balance, and crashed into a brand-new plane of existence that banished all fear and held only the two of them.

Once they were back to reality, within these unfamiliar walls of their new dwelling, they sunk and sat up against the wall, holding each other tight. Vistri nuzzled her cheek against his and sighed with spent contentment.

“…You know you don’t have to stay,” Astarion said, his voice a shaking heart, “I-If you no longer wish to.”

The dreams already dying in his eyes in anticipation of his fears made her chest physically ache. Vistri caressed his beloved face without thought, just a need to save him from the horror.

“Oh, Astarion,” she chuckled sorrowfully, “Oh, my love.”

He closed his running eyes and felt her lips land softly across his cheekbones.

“I want you,” she whispered on his face, “All I want is you. Only you.”

Unable to bear witness to more of her affirmative words, he stopped them with a long, thankful kiss.

Her rare heart sat clearly in her expression. It was gift-wrapped, tied with red string, and addressed to him lovingly; his name written along the side.

“How dare I doubt you?”

“Exactly,” she giggled, “How dare you!”

Others still haunted their ability to convey and receive messages of genuine love. Having already pushed their limits, they sat embracing one another in pleasant silence.

Until Astarion muttered, “Almost forgot!” and got up to grab the wine they’d left over by the door.

Vistri excitedly ran after him, light on her feet like a fey.

Raising the bottle high between them, he toasted, “To our home.”

She took a smiling sip, then passed it back to Astarion. Swallowing felt like making a vow.

“Well, what do you think?” he asked, no bitter flinch present in his expression after his swig.

“You were right,” she smirked warmly, “Some things are all the better for waiting.”

v---v                v---v                v---v                v---v                v---v

They figured the hard part would be the conquering, but that was more like Spawn City Tutorial. After the initial looting and corpse-burning, there were some celebrations. Then the real work came. Starting with turning the captured fortress into a real home. Scrubbing, mapping, sweeping, dusting, assessing masonry needs, livestock needs, stocking, mopping—Cleaning! Cleaning!

“Cleaning! Enough cleaning!” Astarion exclaimed one evening.

Vistri giggled wildly as he wrestled her for her scrub brush. Their excited shouts bounced sharply across the barren, ancient stone. Successfully snatching it away, he chucked it out of the nearby window.

Running over to the sill, she chuckled, “Darling, we’ll have to fetch that.”

He scoffed, “I’ll make Petras go fetch it.”

“You can’t always bully Petras,” she laughed.

“Yes, I can!”

Turning to Astarion with a cheeky smile, she leaned against the window and asked, “Do you remember this chamber?”

His pout overturned into a devilish smile. He knew exactly which chamber this was.

“Oh, I think about it daily,” he smirked, joining her over by the window.

He couldn’t read the expression in Vistri's eyes, they were so far away, but her distance seemed filled with possibility instead of escape.

“We have a house,” he repeated, just to hear it out loud again.

“We do! We have a house!”

Flinging an arm over her shoulder, Astarion looked out and surveyed the scenery below with his beloved.

“Well,” she stated shakily, “We did it.”

She turned to him with a beaming expression that shined so bright it was like the sun sat right here in the Underdark gloom. More than joy, there was want and adoration screaming through her eyes. To be its witness, no, to be the direction in which it was pointed, made his undead heart skip happily.

Their old tower loomed over the glow of wild mushrooms like a proud lord. Who knows how many had peered through the same window. Who knows if they would be the last, or if others would eventually come to conquer them too. Who would they be? And what would they think, looking out over the same shades of grey?

“I like it because it’s ours,” she said. Astarion shrugged her closer and blessed the side of her forehead with a rough peck.

He pulled something from his pockets with his free hand, “Do you have a light, my dear?”

Gale and Halsin weren’t the biggest smokers, but they were inventive ones. What started as a few collaborative pipe blends turned into a shared hobby, and they took to it with the enthusiasm of two middle-aged men who had recently discovered model chariots. Before parting for the Underdark, Waterdeep, or the Shadow Curse-no-more Lands, they’d left the remaining team with tears, bear hugs (figuratively and literally), and a few packets of pre-rolled parting gifts.

Instead of filling for a pipe, their masterwork blend was artfully wrapped up into a smokable stick, like a cigarillo. The casing was as well-crafted and loved as their herbal fungi blend, made of dried fruit peels and layered in with rose petals that were kept magically fresh.

Vistri asked them what the blend comprised of many times, and although it was no secret recipe, she’d always ask once the stogie was already lit. There was a bit of timmask dust in there for sure, but the herbs were lost to the blurry memory of their excitedly recited list. The elevated joy that sparkled in Gale and Halsin’s eyes as they spoke stood out to her more than their words.

“You have the most brilliant ideas,” she smiled.

“I know,” he smirked, placing the stick between his lips.

Astarion leaned over as she snapped her thumb, making a small flame shoot out of it in the way Karlach taught her. Cupping his hands around it, he met her fire and inhaled. Tufts of smoke blew out the end of the cig, and drifted in tendrils from Astarion’s nose like a dragon’s breath.

Taking it between two noble fingers, he passed the gift from his lips to hers. Vistri smiled and took an eager pull. She coughed on her exhale, making Astarion giggle.

More than euphoria, the instant effect brought a giddy sort of security. Nothing was wrong with them or the world, a state they’d only found in each other’s embrace. It was nice to live in for a little while, and taught them existence isn’t inherently bad or painful.

Looking out the window, Astarion remarked, “I don’t think Petras could even run that far.”

Vistri’s chortle was so sudden she almost snorted, “Of course he can!”

“Poor fucker would get lost and need a break every few steps. Unless he had Dalyria with him, of course. Then maybe the five minute walk would be such, and not turn into a tenday’s journey across the yard.”

Too thick in the midst of giggling to answer, Vistri went for another puff and ended up choking on the smoke.

“Heavens! Are you ever gonna learn how to hit that?”

Over a series of coughs, Vistri fought to speak, “Astarion! ”

He grabbed the open wine they’d snuck into their cleaning session and handed it to her, “Have a drink of something. You sound awful!”

Suppressing another cough, she took a defiant swig.

“Good. Now pass that my way—Not the wine! You keep that. That funny, little cigar.”

As he took another puff, Vistri regained her breath and said, “It’s too small to be a cigar.”

Astarion, being Astarion, heard small and cigar in a sentence, and jumped on the cliche, “My, my! Imagine being told its too small to be considered a willy.”

“Astarion!—And don’t you dare take another jab at Petras! Poor Petras.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything about Petras in that regard!”

“Because you know,” she said, raising her brow and reaching for the cig, “I bet he has a big—”

“Can we not talk about my brother’s Todd Johnson?”

She could barely breathe, “Todd Johnson?! ”

Wrestling her for another smoke, Astarion fell into her laughter until his ribs started to ache. Growing weak from it, he gave up the fight and sat back wiping his eyes. Vistri finally passed it over, grinning victoriously.

He placed the dwindling cigarillo between his teeth and flashed a smile to meet hers. Then with a cat-like pounce, suddenly bent to throw her over his shoulder. 

Upside-down her cackling reflected off the floor and continued bouncing between the ceiling and walls. Most of the furniture that was in the room previously had been dumped or moved elsewhere. Sound carried louder and longer than it had the day before, making their laughter haunt the stone like specters.

They could have been a thousand lovers.

“Sit with me, darling,” he cooed, his words slurred with the cig still tucked between his teeth. Halfway gone, it was now just a little longer than his fangs when fully-retracted, about to bite.

Two other chairs remained, but he chose their favorite. Its upholstery had a fresh, weathered look that reminded them of Astarion’s old clothes. Well-tended to with a consistent, loving hand, its rich fabrics held on despite their decay. It made them wonder which discarded body in the courtyard those hands had belonged to.

At least their life’s work wasn’t wasted. Lovers now took it as their preferred perch. They sat so lazily on it, it seemed to swallow them.

With another puff, Astarion released a thick ring of smoke into the air in front of them. Vistri rewarded his trick with kisses to his cheek and a round of applause, delighted by the way it slowly floated by.

“Every day your mouth shows me new wonders.”

“Does it?” he asked, leaning in for a kiss with a raised brow.

“Mmmm, it does.”

Placing a hand along her hip, he commanded, “Face me.”

Moving to straddle him, Vistri turned and settled over his lap. Her thighs spread wide over his; her knees sunk into the cushion cracks. The way she centered her balance over his middle sent another kind of high coursing through their senses. Reaching for the stick smoking in his hands, she wove her fingers into his to smoothly steal it.

A glint in her eyes, she inhaled. Letting the smoke slowly crash over his face, she leaned in to place her mouth on his and blow the rest of her hit into it. Astarion moaned, tasting her under the heavy scent of burning plants.

“How considerate of you,” he exhaled, grinning.

“I try my best.”

Pushing her hair back, Astarion looked suddenly thoughtful, “Do you ever wish it were just us?”

“All the time,” she chuckled, “But they need us. You know they do.”

He raised his eyebrow, “To their credit, none of them have tried to steal a bite.”

“I think that credit is due more to my magic and your promised fury.”

“Maybe a little of that too,” he smirked.

Warmly, she planted a kiss on his forehead. A silent, I’m so proud of you.

As reluctantly as Astarion played it, Vistri knew he relished his new role. It was important to him to be better than Cazador, but more than that, she knew he needed them all to get better together. That’s just the type of person he was, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it.

Another smoke ring danced in the air above their heads. Then a series of smaller ones.

Vistri was beaming at him, “Look at you, love. So amazing.”

“You’re very high.”

She snickered, “No, I’m not!”

“It’s okay, my dear,” he chuckled, “I’m right there with you.”

They broke into ugly laughter that clashed like two very different songs being played poorly on the same stage. Their ridiculous levity sounded like the echoing cries of some cursed reptilian god.

The stone thanked them for silence when Astarion took her lips between his. With gently rocking hips, he showed Vistri the extent of his desire. She was wanted, needed. Craved.

“You make me feel like a king,” he whispered along the crook of her jaw. Then chuckling, he continued, “I know how it sounds, of course. But I don’t know other words to say it. Not now.”

Her hands glided over his chest, rubbing it in absent-minded patterns, “I am a most willing subject.”

“Are you, now?” he asked, knowing the answer from the warble in her voice.

At the nodding of her head, Astarion untied his laces. He watched Vistri take another inhale of their dying nub. Cool air defied the heat he felt in the oven of their laps as he pulled his twitching dick free of his breeches.

The old robes she wore allowed for easy access, and she adjusted them to tent over their laps. Pulling one hand in through her sleeve, she caressed his cock. Pressing his silky skin against her rolling hips, Astarion gasped pleasantly at the brushing of her lace knickers. He brought a hand of his own to keep under her robes. His finger gently traced its patterns, feeling her labia thicken under it from his gradual strokes.

Vistri hadn’t planned for a moment like this. She figured she’d feel better wearing such plain rags if her finest knickers hid beneath them. The delighted surprise in his expression almost disappointed her. He should really know her better by now.

Rubbing each other under her robes, they passed the last of their treat back and forth with their free hands. On the final pull, Astarion brought her close to share it. Her exhale turned into a kiss; his tongue shyly met the tip of hers.

“Is it all right?” she asked, “We’re quite intoxi—”

He didn’t even mean to interrupt her. The consideration in her query was a splash of oil on his fire, further igniting the blaze.

“It’s all right,” he kissed her, “Are you all—”

“Yes,” she nodded, still unbelievingly grateful for his returned care.

Her eager hips rolled into his teasing finger. Arousal coated the inside of her knickers. It was beginning to soak through to his skin. He moaned, and pulled the bunching lace tight so her folds spilled over the sides, swallowing the string of lace between them. Grabbing his cock, he rubbed his head against her wet skin and the rough line of lace that ran down her middle.

“I could burst just from this,” he sighed.

His finger slipped under the lace, pulling it taught like one of his bows. Upon releasing it, her cry sounded in tune with its smack. She was caught prey, waiting only for death.

Placing her roughly used knickers aside, he lined himself up against her soak. As he pushed in, Vistri lowered herself to take in his length. Gasping from the squeeze and stretch, their high made every familiar ecstasy ten times brighter. Riding each other’s waves, they sunk into multiverses of gluttonous sensation.

“Shit. You feel like magic.”

“I am magic.”

Chuckling together in their embrace, their rutting didn’t cease.

It got faster. Harder.

Deeper. Like they were digging to the core of each other, prying open the gilded chest that housed their very souls.

Climax came over them so strongly it made their lips pull back and shiver. Pulsing together, their shouts dissipated to whines; bliss stuffing their throats.

Fighting overstimulation, they maintained a slow rocking of their hips. Not wanting to stop. Ever. His seed started to spill out of her from their movements and pool over his balls. From whence we came, we shall return.

Astarion thought the joke was too delicious not to share.

Pointing to the mess, he recited, “From whence we came, we shall return.”

Vistri laughed so hard, she tripped going to fetch them a fresh rag.

They made out after casually cleaning each other up.

Passionately, like lovestruck teenagers who’d just discovered it. Loving words and adoring vows came tumbling out of the hot ache. Promises for this new life; dedicating joy to each other’s names.

As sudden as it started, it stopped. Their furious need became a tight embrace, like fingers grasping the edge of a cliff. Beating together in sorrowful song, their hearts found an impossible happiness; a new music.

“I think I rather like this room,” he said in a tone that was light despite its heaviness.

Humming pleasantly, Vistri nuzzled into his chest, “Let’s make it ours then.”

A room of their own. Their chambers.

“We already have," Astarion chuckled, "A couple times, in fact.”

[waitimcomingtoo]

hoax ~ p.p

chapter five: stranger danger

series masterlist

“I just found our spring break plans.” Kate announced and slammed a flier down in the middle of the table.

“Barcelona? But this says we have to be in the Spanish club.” MJ said as she read the flier.

“So let’s all unir the Spanish club and go to Barcelona.” Kate said and sat down at the table.

“Sure. I’d be down.” You shrugged.

“Me too. I don’t know if I told you guys this, but I’m fluent in Spanish.” Gwen said proudly.

“No way! Are you also fluent in French and know a little mandarin too?” MJ asked sarcastically.

“Hey, let the girl brag about how many languages she can speak.” You wrapped your arms around Gwen to defend her.

“Thank you.” Gwen replied. “But back to Kate’s idea, it may just be her first good one. We should go.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Ned asked as he joined the table.

“We were just talking about maybe going to Barcelona for spring break. Why don’t you ask Peter and join us?” You informed him.

“Nah. Peter would never go. And I’m not much of a traveler during spring break. I’m more of a sit an home and play video games kinda guy.”

“Why wouldn’t Peter come?” Kate wondered.

“He won’t go anywhere he’d have to fly to. Not since his parents.” Ned replied.

“Well that wasn’t cryptic and ominous at all.” MJ chuckled. “What happened to his parents?”

“They died in a plane crash when we were kids.” Ned explained, making everyone look at each other in surprise. Peter was so quiet that his dark past came as a shock.

“Huh.” You said as you thought came to you. You couldn’t exactly blurt out that your boyfriends parents died in the exact same way, or that you found it difficult to immediately believe that was just a coincidence.

“What?” Kate asked you when she saw how deep in thought you were.

“Nothing. That just reminds me of something.” You said and waved your hand in dismissal. You stayed deep in thought and didn’t even notice when Peter joined the table. When you finally looked up, you saw that he was wearing a shirt that had some science pun on it. You thought back to the night before and the shirt you never actually saw, but knew said something about electrons and staying positive. Peter had been in such a rush this morning after staying out late at the scene of the crime that he just threw on the first shirt he found on his floor.

“Nice shirt.” You smiled at the sight of it and thought about last night. It had been the perfect evening, until he had to go.

“Oh, thanks.” Peter looked down at his shirt and his heart stopped when he realized what it was. He looked up at you to see if you had connected the dots, but you just thought Peter had the same shirt.

“You like science puns now?” Gwen asked when she read Peters shirt.

“No. But my boyfriend has a similar one.” You said with a coy smile.

“Wait, does that mean you saw him out of the suit?” Kate’s eyes widened.

“I did.” You grinned. “Not his face, though. But I saw his arms. And his room. He’s a total nerd. It’s so cute.”

“He definitely sounds like a nerd. A downright loser, actually.” Ned said as he glared at Peter. Peter avoided eye contact with him, knowing he was upset that you still didn’t know the truth.

“His bedsheets had some rocket ship from Star Wars on them. And they smelled like him. I hope they smelled like me when I left.”

“I bet they did.” Peter said. “And I bet he loved that.”

“I’m assuming you know what his bedsheets look like because you finally lost it to him?” Kate asked and shook your arm in excitement.

“No. I think we got close though. But then he had to go do superhero stuff.”

“Were you disappointed?” Kate asked you.

“No. His job comes first. Plus, before he left, we said “I love you” for the first time. So I didn’t mind that we didn’t go all the way. I still had a really good night.”

Ned looked at Peter when he heard this, but Peters eyes were glued to the floor.

“When are you seeing him next?” Gwen asked.

“Not until Friday. He texted me this morning and said he’s gonna be busy the next few days with patrol.”

“Is he now?” Ned asked, sounding unamused.

“Yeah. I don’t know how he finds the time to do it all. He’s just amazing.” You sighed happily.

“Trust me, he’s not that great.” Ned assured you before giving Peter a look.

“Why do you say that?” You frowned and turned to Ned.

“I just think it’s weird he hasn’t revealed his identity to you yet.” Ned shrugged. “You’ve said “I love you” to each other but you don’t even know his name? How does that make sense?”

“It’s for his and my safety.” You said quietly when you noticed that everyone was nodding in agreement.

“Is your safety any less at risk when you walk down the street holding hands with him in his suit? I think it’s about more than just safety at this point. I think there’s a reason he’s not telling you.”

“What kind of reason?” You frowned.

“Maybe he knows that once you know who he is, you won’t think he’s so great.” Ned shrugged, making Peter look up to check your reaction.

“Is that what you guys think?” You asked the girls.

“It is weird that you’re so committed to this relationship when you don’t even know who he is.” MJ admitted. “He could he lying about his age for all we know. I mean, how much do you really know about who he is?”

“I know him.” You insisted. “I just don’t know what he looks like.”

“But don’t you think it’s strange that he can walk by you on the sidewalk and you would never know?” Kate asked, and the girls nodded in agreement.

“Or sat across from you at lunch?” Ned added. You made eye contact with Peter across the table before shaking your head.

“He’ll tell me when he’s ready.” You said simply.

“But why isn’t he ready? It’s been two months. Why doesn’t he trust you enough to tell you yet?” Ned said while never taking his eyes off Peter.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know him like I do.” You shrugged as you got up from the table.

“Wait, don’t leave. We didn’t mean to upset you. We just want to make sure your heart is safe. We care about you. It’s important to us that he does too.”

“I’m not upset. I just need to think. I’ll catch you guys later.” You said and walked away. You went into the hallway and pulled out your phone to text Peter. His phone buzzed and he exchanged a look with Ned before seeing what you had said.

“Can I call you? It’s important.” You had written.

“I’ll be right back.” Peter said and quickly left the table. He picked up the phone when you called and could immediately tell that you were about to cry.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re probably super busy. I just needed to hear your voice.” You said into the phone.

“It’s okay. I’m not busy. What’s wrong?” He asked you, feeling guilty since he already knew exactly what was wrong.

“It’s my friends. They were getting in my head and filling it with doubts. Doubts about us.” You told him. Peter sighed and looked up at the ceiling as he tried to think of what to do. He could see you from where he was in the hallway and wondered if he should just walk right up to you and tell you.

“Peter?” Ned said from behind him.

“I gotta go.” Peter said quickly and hung up the phone.

“Hello?” You asked into the phone, but he was already gone. You frowned and put your phone in your pocket as tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. You ran into the girls bathroom to freshen up while Ned confronted Peter.

“You didn’t tell her.” Ned said in disappointment.

“I was about to. Last night, I swear, I was. And I still will. But the moment passed and I can’t tell her at school. But please, she’s gonna get suspicious if you keeping saying things like that to her. You need to let me handle this.”

“But you’re not handling this. This has gone on way too long.”

“I know.” Peter sighed. “You’re absolutely right. And I feel horrible about lying to her. I’ll tell her when she comes over Friday, okay? I promise.”

“Okay. But if I text her Saturday morning and she doesn’t know, I’m telling her.” Ned warned.

“You won’t have to. She’ll know.”

Come Friday, you had reapplied your lipgloss a dozen times over the course of 20 minutes because you were so anxious for Peter to arrive. You hadn’t spoken much since telling each other that you loved each other, which worried you profusely. You thought your relationship would be taken to the next level after that, but it instead seemed to take a few steps back. But finally, you heard him knocking at your window and threw it open to greet him.

“Are there any damsels in distress in here?” He asked in a transatlantic accent while climbing through your window.

“Hi stranger.” You giggled and wasted no time in lifted up his mask to kiss him. He kissed you back as you stumbled into your bedroom together. You pushed him onto your bed and kissed every inch of uncovered skin before snuggling into his neck.

“I missed you. We haven’t talked a lot lately.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ve just been super busy.” He apologized as he rubbed circles on your back.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for it. Being a superhero comes first. I just miss walking home with you. And all the other stuff we do together.”

“You’ll have to remind me what “other stuff” we used to do. You know, since it’s been so long.” He smiled cheekily and kissed you again. You made out for a little bit until all the thoughts that had been nagging at you fogged your brain up too much to enjoy the kisses.

“I kinda want to talk to you about something. Something my friends brought up.” You said once you pulled away.

“Sure, honey. I turned my radio off for the night. I’m all yours. We can talk about anything.”

In that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to bring it up. You’d missed him all week and now that he was finally here, you didn’t want to have a heavy conversation. You just wanted to spend some quality time with your boyfriend and not have to get into why he hadn’t told you his identity yet. Partially because you just wanted to have fun tonight, and partially because you worried you might not want to know the answer.

“All mine, you say?” You smiled and kissed him again.

“Uh huh. Did you have any ideas in mind?”

“Remember that time you blindfolded me so I could touch your face?”

“I might remember.”

“Good. I wanna try that again.”

“Okay. And do what?”

Peters question was answered the second he tied the blindfold around you. You climbed into lap and pulled the mask completely off of him, not that you could see anything. Now that you had unlimited access, you were able to run your hands through his curls and feel his eyelashes against your face as he kissed you. You always liked kissing Peter, but it was undeniably better when you could touch his entire face.

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. I hope you know that.” Peter said between kisses.

“You make me feel like I am.” You smiled against his lips. He ran his hands up and down your back, the feeling of skin to skin after only touching you through his gloves sending lighting across his body.

“Spidey?” You asked and pulled away.

“Yeah?”

“You know I love you, right?” You told him. Peter smiled softly and nodded his head.

“I do know that. And I love you too.”

“Okay. I kinda got nervous that I scared you off by telling you that last time.” You admitted through a nervous laugh.

“Scare me off? How?”

“I just got worried when we didn’t talk much this week. I know you’re busy with patrol but you suddenly felt busier than usual. I kinda thought it had something to do with me. And then my friends totally didn’t help and started filling my head with all these doubts about us. I don’t know. I just wanted to make sure we were okay.”

“We are okay. I promise. You could never scare me off.” Peter assured you as he cupped your face.

“Are you sure?” You asked skeptically.

“I’m sure. Nothing you could do could scare me away because I love you most ardently.” He told you and wished he could be looking into your eyes as he said it.

“So you did watch Pride and Prejudice? After I asked you 500 times?” You laughed and traced the outline of his lips the best you could.

“I did. I’d watch anything you tell me to. Even really boring period pieces about adults who can’t communicate.”

“Boring? How dare you call the most painfully romantic movie boring.” You pretended to be offended.

“If you think about it, it was just a bunch of people going to other peoples houses for two hours.” He pointed out, making you laugh.

“I know. But I still love it.”

“And I love you. So I promise, I’m never going anywhere. I’ll be here until the day you tell me to go away. And even then, I’d probably show up at your door every night and beg for you to take me back.” Peter told you.

“You’d never have to do that. Because I’d never leave you either. I think you just might be the great love of my life.”

“You’ve been watching too maybe romance movies.” Peter teased as he pulled you into his arms to kiss the side of your face.

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic.”

“Well, you have a way of making it all feel a lot less hopeless.” Peter said softly before kissing you.

“I love you so much.” You said between kisses.

“I love you too. And think it’s time I tell you that to your face. Using my…face.” Peter squeezed his eyes shut at his lame choice of words and wished he rehearsed that more. He went to pull to pull your blindfold off but you put your hands on his to stop him.

“I actually don’t want to see your face tonight, if that’s okay.” You said with a timid smile.

“You don’t?”

“It’s just, this moment is special. If I see your face now, this moment ends and we move on from it to the moment of the big reveal. But I don’t want this moment to end yet. I want to stay in it as long as possible.”

“Really? You want to wait?”

“Yeah. The moment I see your face and learn your name is going to be huge for us. That deserves its own special day. But this night is flawless. I’ve had all the excitement I can handle. I don’t want to have two big moments in our relationship at once. I want to savor each of them so I can appreciate them fully. Does that make any sense?”

“It does. You can leave it on, if that’s what you want. But are you sure?” He asked as he stared right at you. His mask was off and it was just him, totally bare, asking you to look at him.

“I’m positive. Like an electron, right?” You said through a yawn and laid down on his chest.

“Yeah. Like my shirt.” He chuckled.

“My friend has the same shirt. It made me think of you.” You told him as you started to drift off.

“That wasn’t your friend. That was me.” He whispered, but you were already asleep.

🖤🕸️🖤

Tag list 🏷️

@miwagila @gidgett11037 @hoetel-manager @deffnotnia

@uncle-eggy @freakofmusic25 @loveleesthings

@katerinaval @tom-hollands-wifey @helen-on-earth

[otomiyaa]

Love Is Hard for a Broke Otaku

Narumi x Hirotaka

A/N: In wave of inspiration I drafted 3 new fics yesterday and THIS WAS NOT ONE OF THEM. This one just spawned today and it's the fault of @dokidoki-muffin and her amazing art that inspired me🤭

Summary: Narumi and Hirotaka continue dating with the golden rule: no otaku talk during their romantic outings unless you would like to contribute to the piggy bank. A great rule for those who have money. (Also on AO3)

Word Count: 2.2K

Such a beautiful spring day! It was the perfect Shoujo scenario date. A stroll in the park, a swan boat date surrounded by couples, a romantic picnic for two while enjoying the beautiful sunset...

"We're being so romantic, Hirotaka! Seeing us together like this, I ship us harder than Dr. Ratio and Aventurine, which says a lot! Their chemistry is really off the charts!"

Without a word, Hirotaka instantly held out the otaku-off-limits piggy bank. Narumi gasped. Where did he get that! As if the damn thing just spawned in his hands like a video game item!

"Too bad, Narumi. You held out for so long without breaking the rule," Hirotaka said dramatically.

"You brought Bernard?!" she shrieked.

"I still disagree with that name. But yes. Penalty time, you geeked out," Hirotaka said. Narumi sighed and covered her face with her hands.

"Geek out, geek out? H-how did I geek out?"

"You talked about Honkai Star Rail, again. On top of that, a BL couple. It is against our dating rule."

"You're so mean, Hirotaka! Besides, Honkai Star Rail is a game. You should geek out with me then."

"That's not the rule. Besides, I already told you it's not my kind of game. Pay up," Hirotaka said, and he shook the piggy bank. Narumi listened to the sound of the coins inside and she sighed.

"Can you forgive me this once?" she asked, feeling her pockets. Not even a 1-yen coin was left.

"Why? You know it's our date-rule. You made me pay too, the other day. Twice."

"But that was because you wouldn't stop bringing up Monster Hunter. Paying twice was the ultimate minimum compared to how much you geeked out."

"I also recall you made me pay when we went to Disney Sea too, last weekend."

"But you wouldn't stop doing these unnecessary raids in Pokemon Go!" Narumi whined. Hirotaka glared at her.

"I don't see the difference. So, rules are rules. You pay. That would be 500 yen, miss." He held out the piggy bank. Narumi fiddled with her clothes.

"Then... can I pay later?" she asked. Hirotaka cocked his head.

"I don't see why. Don't tell me you're broke?"

.... Narumi hesitated for too long, so Hirotaka gasped. "You are broke!" he yelled, and Narumi quickly grabbed his hands.

"No no no, I'm not broke! I'm just out of cash! Don't forget I bought us drinks and ice cream for our date today! That was everything I had with me... today! I have money at home, a-and on my bank account!"

Narumi felt her cheeks getting red knowing that was not true, especially when Hirotaka gave her this judging stare.

"Do you really?" he asked. "So when we go to your home now, or to the bank, you can pay?"

Narumi blushed and bit her lip. Nooo! "M-maybe?" she said. Hirotaka sighed.

"Just what did you do with your money this time?" he asked. Narumi nervously played with her clothes.

"Well... T-there were tickets on sale for Comic Con..."

"Ah, Comic Con. I remember you asked me to go. Those tickets are expensive," Hirotaka said.

"Hmm yes, you turned me down. S-so I still bought two tickets, for Hana-chan and me."

Hirotaka frowned. "And...?" he asked. Narumi lowered her head.

"I a-accidentally bought them twice."

Hirotaka jumped up again. "What! Twice? How?"

Narumi shrugged. "Well you see, these things happen. They were on sale on the website, and you have to be there soon because they sell out fast - a-and there was also a special sale that included a meet & greet with my favorite seiyuu on another website. I wanted to make sure to get at least one of them! I was in the online queue on the two websites and, actually ended up getting both! I didn't expect I would. It's a miracle."

"...A miracle that cost you a lot of money. So, you can just sell one set, right?"

"I can't. One has the VIP package and the other has the special meet & greet! They're different! I have to keep both!"

Hirotaka groaned. "Are you serious right now? You can't just pay entrance fee once and the special packages separately? Sounds like a scam. So anyway, that's why you're broke?"

"It's not a scam, just my mistake! Hana-chan didn't want to sell hers and I I kind of said I could keep mine too... And yes now I am broke, but only for the weekend. Hana-chan will pay me back her share when we are at the office. I have food at home too. I'll be fine."

It had really not been Narumi's intention to spill the truth about this unfortunate money situation to Hirotaka. It all went so well, with her just offering the little money she had for the least expensive treats today, such as drinks and ice cream, while Hirotaka paid their lunch, picnic snacks and boat ride like a true gentleman. He originally wasn't going to find out about the her blunder, and about her greed.

To think that her geeking out about one of her favorite BL pairings was the cause of this.

Speaking of...

"That's a shame. You do owe me then," Hirotaka said. Narumi jolted, sad that he was really returning to the penalty topic.

"Y-yes! I'll pay later!"

Hirotaka shook his head. "I mean, it's not about the money. You know that. More like, the small punishment for breaking the rule to keep our dates romantic." He smiled, and Narumi's heart fluttered.

"Romantic.." she mumbled with a blush, remembering why they had installed the rule in the first place. It wasn't always easy to be the friends-to-lovers couple after all.

"I think I can let you off, if we change the punishment. How about that?" Hirotaka suggested. Narumi cried out in delight and nodded.

"Yes. Yes! What should I do?"

Hirotaka stared into the distance. He pointed. "Run up and down those stairs."

Narumi stared at the huge ass stairs, leading to the shrine they didn't visit today for the exact reason of those stairs being too damn long.

"...Twice," Hirotaka said with a smirk. Narumi looked at him in horror.

"You might as well just kill me then," she said dramatically.

"Or... You'll let me tickle you. For..." Hirotaka said, taking his phone and tapping something. He then held up the timer.

"...Six whole minutes."

"Six? That's specific. Not five?"

"Six. So, would you agree?" Hirotaka asked. Narumi nodded.

"Sure, let's go home first."

Hirotaka shook his head. "No, we'll do it here." Narumi gulped and looked around the park. There were couples everywhere. Families... Dogs. People.

"Why, are you embarrassed? It's not like there's anyone we know here."

"B-b-but!" Narumi squeezed Hirotaka's hands and she shook her head. Did he really think so lightly of getting tickled in public? Someone as ticklish as her?!

"M-m-my dignity!" she stuttered, and she grabbed Hirotaka's shirt and tugged it repeatedly.

"You have to spare my dignity!"

"Hm? What dignity?" was Hirotaka's cold reply. Oof! Meanie! Narumi let out a whine and leaned her head against his chest.

"Is there really no third option?" she asked. Hirotaka chuckled.

"No, it's either stairs or tickling." The villain. He obviously knew Narumi couldn't even run up and down those stairs twice, having the stamina of a wanky banana peel. She'd strand in the middle and gasp for air like an old woman on her dying bed. Now that might even be more embarrassing than getting tickled.

"F-f-fine.... Tickle me then," she finally sighed. "But if people laugh at me, you have to stand up for me and tell them I'm beautiful."

Hirotaka smirked. "Don't you worry. You'll be doing most of the laughing here. Let's not mind other people."

That made Narumi blush, and she repositioned herself on their picnic sheet, shuffling awkwardly.

"S-so what do I do?" she asked while Hirotaka put his phone down.

"You come to me," he said. He turned on the timer and spread his arms.

"Come here," he said gently, and for a moment he really looked gentle, welcoming his precious girlfriend for a hug. But the moment she moved closer, she could already see his expression change. This wasn't Hirotaka being gentle, this was her villain boyfriend who was way too smug as he lured her into his tickle trap!

"Gotcha," Hirotaka said when she was so flustered she tried to move away again, and he locked her in his arms, bringing one hand to her side while the other moved up, immediately aiming for her underarm.

"Wawawa-wahahhaait Hirotakahahaha! Spahahare me a lihihittle!" Narumi whined when his fingers began to wiggle around their chosen tickle spots. She wriggled and squirmed in his arms, but Hirotaka reminded her he wasn't as weak as he looked - no offense, but it was the truth! And she couldn't help but love him for it.

"It's better to not mind them," Hirotaka said when Narumi couldn't help but turn her head to watch the judging couples in the distance. So embarrassing! It wasn't as if her getting tickled was the worst that was happening out here! Look, there were people kissing over there! Aaah!

"Buhuhut- aahaha! Wait no- not thehere!" Narumi laughed. Hirotaka had moved the hand on her lower side further up and tickled her ribs, while the other continued to gently wiggle its fingers under her arm. Narumi grabbed Hirotaka's jacket and she shook with hysterical laughter.

"I'm gohohonna ehehexplode!" she howled dramatically. Hirotaka chuckled fondly.

"No you won't," he said, and she gulped when he suddenly pushed her down on her back. He towered over her and grabbed both sides of her ribcage, his fingers racing up and down as if she was playing a game. Narumi squealed and tried to grab his hands and pry them off her as a reflex, but to no avail.

"Aaaahahaha nohoho it tihicklehehes!" she whined.

Hirotaka even captured both her hands and only needed one hand to pin them above her head. With the other he clawed and poked her ticklish armpit that was now helplessly exposed.

"HIROTAHAAKAAAA!" Narumi kicked her legs, messing up their picnic sheet. Despite everything she was very aware of the people staring at her and the way it made her blush - but even more aware of her boyfriend's fingers tickling and making her blush even worse!

"Three more minutes. We're halfway there," Hirotaka informered her, and Narumi shook her head wildly.

"Bwahahaha I cahahan't take ahahanymohohore!" she cackled. The fond smile Hirotaka showed her was so unfair.

"I'm sure you can," he said. He released her hands and continued the tickle attack by wiggling his fingers all over her tummy. Narumi screeched and tried to curl up. Reluctant to hit her precious attacker in the face, she pounded the picnic sheet like a madwoman.

"Plehehease! Hahahave mehehercy!" she shrieked. Hirotaka glanced at his phone.

"I will. After two minutes and fourteen seconds."

"Gahaahha I wihihill dieeehehehe!" Narumi wailed. She weakly tried to crawl away, but Hirotaka only needed to tickle her underarms again to make her collapse. He then settled with wrecking her socked feet for the remaining minutes. Hirotaka was pure evil.

"Nyaahhaahaha I cahahan't breheheathe!"

"You're doing just fine."

Narumi was sure he cheated. He must've secretly extended the timer or something, because no way had it actually been six minutes by the time he stopped. It felt like it was way longer. Narumi wrapped her arms around her stomach and wheezed.

Hirotaka looked at her with a charming smile.

"Game over, right? Well, I must admit this was way more enjoyable. If you like, we can just stop paying to Bernard and tickle-punish you instead, anytime you act like an otaku during our dates."

".....Pffffthehehe," Narumi giggled, muffling the sound with the back of her hand.

"Hmm? Still feeling ticklish?" Hirotaka asked teasingly. She shook her head.

"You called the piggy bank Bernard."

"Oh. Yes, I guess I did."

"And, introducing the tickle punishment as a permanent penalty means I get to tickle you too."

"....Oh. I guess so?" Hirotaka said, suddenly sounding a lot less smug and confident.

"And I will claim my six minutes right away, because you just said a gamer otaku thing."

"Huh?!"

"You said 'game over', that counts."

"Eh? It's a general phrase! Anyone would say 'game over'. Non-gamers would say it too."

"No, let me tickle you. Six minutes tickle punishment coming right up!"

"That's way too long for- aaaahh!" Narumi was suddenly no longer tired now that she chased after Hirotaka who was acting way more flustered all of a sudden. He tried to get away but she pounced on him and immediately began to tickle.

"Ahahahah! Nahaharumi! At leheheast tuhuhurn ohohon the tihihimer ahahaha!"

"Naah, you can keep count for me!" Narumi sang teasingly, and she enjoyed the sound of Hirotaka's cute laughter. She kind of agreed with him now. This was a lot more fun than the piggy bank.

And what was also a lot more fun: at the end of their park date filled with embarrassing tickle punishments, Hirotaka came with the sweetest suggestion. He'd buy the extra ticket for Comic Con from her, and convince Kabakura to join Hanako as well. They would attend the event with all four of them, while Narumi and Hanako could experience all of the extras as they wished. Woohoo!

Evil tickle monster tendencies aside, he really was the cutest boyfriend ever!

[w1ldthoughts]

The Hike of a Lifetime

A/n: My first Justin Herbert piece! Let me know what y’all think and if you want more!

Work had actually been slowly killing you the last few weeks. As one of the head nutritionists for the UCLA men’s basketball team you had to come up with 12 different meal plans in the span of two weeks including snacks and protein shakes in the middle of March Madness which had you living out of your suitcase for approximately 23 days. When the Bruins unfortunately lost to the Gonzaga Bulldogs, it was time to take a much needed break. Luckily for you, your sister invited you out to Oregon to spend the week with her. The hustle and bustle of LA was nice and kept you entertained, but the calming presence of Eugene was exactly what the doctor ordered.

Your sister had moved out there from your childhood home in Colorado a few years before in order to pursue her photography career and got a job at the University of Oregon, allowing the two of you to see each other more often during conference play. When you flew in the night before you had dinner together and made plans for a hike in the morning to decompress and of course, gossip. Rachel sadly informed you when you came into her living room a few hours ago that she had to head into the office and edit some pictures to post onto the team’s social media accounts.

“What’s the point of spring football anyway? And can’t you just ask one of the interns to do it?” You whined, tossing around the cereal in your bowl with the spoon.

“I could,” she sighs. “But then I would have to give my approval and why not just be in the room, get it all done and get back home so we can have the relaxing week that I promised you. I’ll only be gone for like—four hours maybe?”

Rachel grabs her keys off the counter and gives you a pat on the back. “I’m all yours the rest of the time, promise.”

“Fine. But I’m dropping you off so I can hike.”

After letting Rachel out of the car at the door near her office in the Hatfield-Dowlin Complex, you drove a few miles until you reached your desired destination. Hendricks Park was the oldest in Eugene but it had pretty flowers and you’d been there before so you felt comfortable navigating it on your own. You made it maybe a mile, before a friendly black dog made his way over to you, nudging your leg with his wet nose.

“Well hello there buddy. Who do you belong to?” You bent down to search for a name on his collar. “Dylan. That’s a cute name, should we go find who you came here with before someone has a heart attack?” You laughed softly as the dog happily panted away and let you grab onto the leash. Before you could even take a step, you heard a booming voice calling out the dog’s name.

The distressed figure comes into view and lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh my gosh, thank you so much for grabbing him. I’m so sorry if he’s bothering you, I literally bent down to tie my shoe and he made a break for it.”

“He’s taking advantage of the fact that you only have one good arm.” You point out. “No worries, he’s sweet. And super friendly.” You handed him the leash and he thanked you again.

“I seriously owe you, my mom would’ve killed me if I lost our dog when I just got home.” He chuckles nervously. God his laugh was cute. “I’m sorry, I never got your name. I’m Justin.”

“I know.” You smile. “It’s nice to meet you though, I’m y/n. Enjoy the rest of your hike.” You grabbed your AirPods and went to place them back in your ears to finish listening to your podcast.

“Wait—maybe we could finish out the hike…together? You know, just so Dylan doesn’t take advantage of me again.”

Those blue eyes that had the slightest green tint to them were going to get you in trouble and you knew it. But you were on a relaxing vacation and hiking with Justin Herbert wasn’t going to happen again so…

“Let’s do it. Wouldn’t want you to hurt your shoulder even more chasing after Dylan. Bolt nation might actually collapse if anything happens to you so I’m calling this a public service.”

He unsuccessfully tries to stifle a laugh. “What a Good Samaritan you are.”

Justin was funny. And sweet. And the most fun company you’ve had in a while. You talked about your job, March Madness and living in LA. Even though you both lived very different lives, it was filled with sports and schedules and meetings and practices and there were a lot of things to bond over. Before you knew it you’d been out there for five hours and Rachel texted you to let you know she was done and ready to resume your sisterly activities. He took a look at your deflated expression.

“Do you need to head out?”

“Yeah, unfortunately.” You whispered. “This was fun though.”

He readjusts the hat on his head. “Yeah this was great. Um, I meant what I said earlier though. I owe you.” He nods towards the phone in your hands and puts in his number, texting himself immediately so he has yours.

“Maybe we could grab dinner or something before you head back to LA?” He states pensively, holding his breath a bit until you answered.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

The two of you head back to the parking lot and you give Dylan one more pat on the head. You look up to meet Justin’s gaze, shy smiles painting both of your faces. He walked you all the way to your car and waved goodbye as you drove away to meet Rachel.

She found you beaming in the driver’s seat and immediately looked confused.

“What’s got you so smiley? That hike change your life or something?” She finished with a dry laugh.

“I’m not sure, but I think it may have…”

Rachel nods her head slowly, desperately hoping to understand what’s going on. “Yeah okay whatever. Let’s get some lunch because I am absolutely starving.”

You put the car in drive, your phone notifying you of a text from its spot on the dashboard car mount. Rachel grabs it and asks, “who the hell is Justin and why is he asking if you’re free tomorrow night?”

Yeah, that hike definitely may have just changed…everything.

[bradshawsbaby]

Letters to My Love // Part V

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 3.7k

Author’s Note: As always, if you’re interested in learning more about the historical context of any of the letters, or if you have any questions about anything that gets discussed, feel free to reach out! I will say that Bob’s mother’s remedy for influenza that gets mentioned in this chapter was a real “home cure” that people used to use back in the day!

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story!

The title for this chapter comes from The Andrews Sisters song of the same name.

Dedication: As always, this story is dedicated to @luminousnotmatter​. I could thank you endlessly for all the love and support!

Warnings: Alternating POV, references to war and its impact, mentions of rationing, discussion of war casualties and death, references to church and prayer, a ton of fluff as always.

October 12, 1942

Dear Peach,

First of all, I want to start by saying that I’m so sorry for the troubles your family went through at the end of the summer. Little Frankie sounds like quite the trooper, but I’m sure it must have been hard on all of you to see him so sick like that. I’m real, real glad to hear that he’s on the mend. Dottie, too.

It’s funny—even though I’ve never met her, it’s not hard at all for me to believe that your sister was one of the few babies who survived the Spanish Flu back in 1918. From everything you’ve shared with me, it sounds like it would take a lot to break Dottie Sheridan. I’d bet my last dollar that she gives Paddy a run for his money on a regular basis. Maybe don’t tell her I said that though. I do want her to like me, should we ever get to meet in person one day.

You know, a couple summers back, my little brothers ended up coming down with a case of influenza. It seemed as though they picked it up from some of the kids they’d been playing with. It might sound crazy, but my mother would take a handkerchief, sprinkle it with whiskey, and make my brothers inhale the fumes every night before they went to bed. I don’t know where she learned that remedy, but would you believe that the two of them were right as rain after just four days? I’m confident that everyone in your household is the picture of health now, but you might want to give it a try should anyone else come down with the flu. I can’t explain it, but it did seem to do the trick!

I’ll selfishly admit that the weeks that went by without receiving a letter from you were desolate ones indeed. I received a couple letters from home, which were wonderful, but I found that my mind kept wandering back to sunny Charleston instead of the farmlands of Iowa. When I finally saw your handwriting on the envelope they handed me during Mail Call, it took everything in me not to jump up and down like a fool and make a scene. Just like you, I’ve been rereading your letters each night before lights out. I know we haven’t been exchanging messages for long, but each one lifts my spirits more than you could know. And around these parts, that’s a real special thing.

Despite being so far away from home and from everything that’s familiar and comfortable, when I close my eyes and imagine sharing a slice of your mama’s peach tart or getting to dance with you again and hear your pretty voice, I feel as though everything’s going to be alright. Even if the feeling only lasts for a minute or two, it gives me something to hold onto in the moments when it feels like maybe the world really is going to pieces. So thank you for that. Your kindness and your sweet words of encouragement are helping me get through this war, minute by minute and day by day.

I think, if you’re agreeable to it, that I’d really like to take you up on your offer to show you the world one day. Maybe even from up in the air. I may be Paul’s backseat gunner, but I know a thing or two about piloting an aircraft. You can trust me. Any places in particular you’d like to see, Peach? I’m all ears.

I promise you that I am most certainly NOT remembering you through rose-colored glasses. If you remember, my glasses are very much of the non-rose-tinted variety. But they do aid my vision, which helped me to see that night back in May just how absolutely swell you are. I hope it doesn’t embarrass you if I say that I still remember the way your smile put the stars to shame that night on King Street. And though I know no rehearsal is necessary, it does make me quite happy to think that you’ll be practicing a song with me in mind. I know any song you pick will be beautiful, but how about “Someone to Watch Over Me?” It was the first song we danced to, after all. And I’m sure you’ll knock it out of the park. If Gershwin was still alive, I know he’d be thrilled to hear someone doing such justice to his music.

I’ll have you know that it took me quite some time to get the peace and quiet I needed to write this letter because Tommy Boy and Benny simply would not stop chattering in my ear. At first, it was just more of their usual advice—most of which, for your sake, I don’t actually take—but then I realized they were trying to pass along messages of their own to you! I very clearly, and perhaps a bit selfishly, told them that you were my pen pal and that they’d just have to go find some of their own. Benny pouted a bit, but Tommy Boy just grinned, slapped me on the shoulder, and told me he’d never been prouder.

They both say hello, by the way. I did agree to pass that much along.

Paul’s sitting near me right now, writing his own letter home to Natasha and the kids. He wanted me to thank you for your prayers and for your kind words. He’s not one to get all mushy most of the time, but I can tell that your thoughts for him and his family really do mean a lot to him. And he said he’s definitely going to take you up on that jewelry offer when we get home. He may have made some comment about buttering Natasha up when we finally return home, after leaving her alone with two babies for so long. Although, now that I think about it, my little goddaughter, Clara always insists that she’s a big girl. So I’m sure she would take great offense at me referring to her as a baby. Promise you won’t tell on me?

Peach, I hope you know how truly extraordinary you are. I find it just about impossible to believe that people don’t take notice of you. To me, that feels like people taking a stroll outside and not taking notice of the sun. But it means more to me than words can say that you can relate to me in that way. Feeling like you see me, like you really understand me—that doesn’t happen to me often. Especially not with girls as lovely as you. I’m very much looking forward to us getting to know each other better and better.

As far as childhood stories go, I want to make it very clear that Paul and Natasha were solely responsible for any and all mischief that was had in our youth. I was very much just along for the ride. I promise you that it wasn’t my idea to put frogs in our mean teacher’s purse during the school picnic when we were in the third grade. And I certainly wasn’t the one who kidnapped our class hamster so that he could “live a life of freedom in the great outdoors.” Though I will admit I may have been present when the crime was committed. I was a very nerdy and awkward kid, which I’m sure isn’t hard at all for you to imagine, so I do have to credit Paul and Natasha with providing me with some of the most exciting and interesting moments of my life. There’s hardly a memory I have that doesn’t involve the two of them. I think you and Natasha would get on wonderfully. Maybe one day, the two of you will get to meet.

What about you, Miss Peach? Were you a rebel growing up in Georgia, or a goody two shoes like me?

I’m glad to hear that President Roosevelt is keeping you all informed back home, but I’m sorry to hear that the prices are still going up. I know you already mentioned that they started rationing sugar. I hope more rations aren’t coming your way, but, truth be told, I have a sinking feeling that they will be. We’ve been burning through supplies like crazy over here, and it always feels like a scramble to get more of what we need. But I’d still hate to think of you or anyone else having to go without. It just doesn’t seem right. But then, I suppose a lot in this world doesn’t feel right at the moment.

Thank you for sharing the president’s words with me, Peach. I passed them on to the rest of the fellas, and we’re all mighty appreciative of it. I have to say, even if it was Roosevelt’s words, they sounded a lot sweeter coming from you. My safety and comfort feel like a small price to pay if it means that you and my family and the rest of the good folks back home get to rest well each night.

I hate to end my letter to you on a sad note, but thinking of men who aren’t concerned about themselves makes me think of some of the boys that we just lost recently. Just last week, in fact. They weren’t part of my squadron, but I did know several of them. They were a couple years ahead of me at Annapolis, and they were bunking on the carrier with my squadron. Good men, every single one of them. They were shot down during what was supposed to be a fairly routine fly-over. They leave behind mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, fiancées, sweethearts, and friends. But I think a part of them will still be here, so long as those of us who remember them are still around. They were men, like President Roosevelt said, who put duty and country before themselves. And they deserve to be remembered.

We also recently lost some enlisted men—some sailors on a nearby carrier. We’d gotten to know them pretty well these past few months, and it was a tough blow. I was saddest to learn about the death of a boy named Timmy [REDACTED]. I say boy because that’s what he was. We got to talking one night, him and I, and he admitted to me that he was only sixteen. He’d lied about his age and somehow managed to squeak on by—my guess is that with the draft on, they’re willing to look the other way when boys jump up to volunteer. Sixteen years old. I tell you, I don’t think I could have stomached this at sixteen. I can barely stomach it now at twenty-two. I promised him I wouldn’t tell, and I feel a little guilty to be breaking that promise now that he’s gone, but I think someone else besides me should know how brave he was. He gave everything he had for the family and the country that he loved. I know I’ll never forget him. I know I keep piling more and more names on your list, but maybe you can remember him, too? That way, his legacy will live on. I think he’d be happy to know that.

If any of my letters ever feel like too much to you, Peach, please let me know. I don’t want to unburden my own heart at the cost of your peace of mind. I’m thankful for all the ways you listen and make me feel heard, even with the entire Atlantic in between us. Just getting these words down on paper, knowing that you’ll be reading them soon, fills me with a great sense of calm. Has anyone ever told you what a great pen pal you are?

My mother wouldn’t be happy if she heard me admitting this, but sometimes I’m so dead tired at the end of the night that I fall asleep without saying my prayers. On the nights that I do manage to stay awake, however, I pray for you right after my family, you and Paddy and Dottie and Frankie. I pray that you’re safe and happy and well. I’m always glad to hear that it’s so.

Goodbye for now, Peach. I look forward to your next letter, as I always do.

Very Sincerely Yours,

Bobby

November 3, 1942

Dear Bobby,

I was so thrilled to receive your last letter in the mail, but I admit that I was crying like a baby by the end of it. I’m so sorry for the friends that you lost, especially young Timmy. Sorry always seems like such a trite thing to say in the face of such a tragedy, doesn’t it? It doesn’t feel like it encompasses even half of the pain and the grief and the sorrow that follow in the wake of such horror. But for lack of any other words that would suffice, I’m afraid that “I’m sorry” is all that I can say. Please know that I mean it from the very bottom of my heart.

I hope you don’t mind, but I showed the last part of your letter to Dottie. She walked into the kitchen and was very concerned about why I was such a bawling mess, so I thought it would be better if she heard it directly from you. My big sister is much less prone to tears than I am, but even she cried when she read your beautiful tribute to that young man. We went to church the next day and lit candles in honor of Timmy and all the young men who were lost. I’m so incredibly touched that you would want to share their memories with me, Bobby. I will most certainly treasure them in my heart and pass them along to anyone I can. I don’t want them to be forgotten either. I don’t think anyone deserves to be forgotten. Everyone leaves their mark on this world, no matter how tiny it might seem to others. Even at just sixteen, Timmy clearly left his mark.

I can only begin to imagine what it must be like for you over there, flying dangerous missions yourself and watching those around you, men who you’ve shared laughs and good times with, make that final sacrifice. Please don’t ever feel like you can’t share it with me, Bobby. If you have to live it every day, and face that reality, then the very least I can do is lend a listening ear. I’m always here for you, whatever you need to get off your chest.

To be honest, you’re the first real pen pal I’ve ever had. I’m glad to hear that I’m doing a good job, because I happen to think you’re a terrific pen pal, and I wouldn’t want to let you down in return. It’s kind of funny—when I’m sitting down to read your letters or write one of my own, I sometimes forget that there’s an entire ocean between us. Sometimes, when I read your words, it feels like you’re right here next to me. I can hear your voice, even if it was so long ago now that we were last together. And it just makes it all feel so real to me. You’re a rather wonderful writer, you know.

Hm, now let’s see. Which part of your wonderful letter should I respond to next? I have it laid out in front of me right now, so that I don’t miss or forget anything. Should we discuss your mother’s rather unorthodox cure for the flu? I’d never heard of whiskey in a handkerchief before! I thought Paddy was going to split his sides from laughing so hard when I told him and Dottie. He said that he’s not so sure he should be sticking booze in his baby’s face, but that he’d be more than happy to try that remedy himself! We’d only ever been aware of good, old-fashioned chicken noodle soup and lots of rest. I’m hoping we don’t have another influenza scare any time soon, but we’ll be sure to try the whiskey trick if we do.

Now as for seeing the world—I’ve never been flying before. On the one hand, it seems very exciting and exhilarating, but on the other hand, it seems like the most terrifying prospect in the world. Bless those Wright brothers for being the first ones to give it a go. I suppose if I ever wanted to expand my horizons, however, I’d have to get on an airplane. Ocean liners aren’t exactly the most efficient means of travel. And if I’d trust anyone to take me up in the air for the first time, it would be you, Bobby. Like I mentioned once before, my parents went to Paris for their honeymoon, so I’ve always wanted to see it. Did you know that they call it the city of love? I suppose it must be very romantic with a nickname like that. I’ve also always wanted to see Italy—the Colosseum, the Pantheon, all that amazing art. I imagine it must be so magical. Maybe not right this moment, but Rome has certainly survived its fair share of catastrophes, if I remember my history correctly. I’m sure it will survive this, too.

How about you, Bobby? What parts of the world would you like to see when all of this is over?

“Someone to Watch Over Me” is one of my favorite songs. And now every time I hear it, I think of you and that dance we shared at the USO. If that’s the song that you’d like to hear, then I’ll happily start practicing it right away. Mr. Gershwin certainly knew what he was doing when it came to composing, didn’t he?

Don’t tell them this—we wouldn’t want them getting big heads now—but I always find it to be a delight when you share stories of Tommy Boy and Benny. It makes me so happy to know that you have such good friends over there with you. And I always get a good laugh, imagining their antics. You must have the patience of a saint, Bobby, to put up with all of it. As I’ve said before, I know all too well what it’s like to have to hide away to carve out a little peace for letter writing—Dottie is constantly trying to throw her two cents in whenever she can. I actually have Frankie to thank for my solitude at the moment. He’s been a bit fussy, so Dottie hurried off to check on him. I adore my sister more than life itself, but even I can admit that it’s a bit easier to concentrate when she’s distracted.

I absolutely cross my heart that I will never let it slip past my lips that you called our young Clara a baby. It will be our little secret. I’m sure she and Natasha and Paul, Jr. will be thrilled to receive the letter Paul’s writing to them. Paul sounds like such a wonderful husband and father. He reminds me of Paddy in that way. The two of them seem to have a lot in common. Tell Paul that I’m more than happy to lend any assistance I can to helping him pick out the perfect gift for buttering up his wife. Trust me, I’ve helped my dear brother-in-law do it on more than one occasion.

Speaking of Paul and Natasha, I’m shocked to learn they were such little hooligans when the three of you were growing up. Frogs in your teacher’s purse? Kidnapping the classroom hamster? What kind of trouble did you not get into, I should ask? I think that perhaps you were more of a little rebel than you’re willing to admit, Ensign Floyd. I myself was quite the prim and proper little lady growing up back home in Georgia. Believe me, I was much too shy to be getting into any sort of trouble with anyone. Truth be told, I really sort of kept to myself, even when I was a child. But I always had Dottie, thank goodness. She’s four years older, and she’s always looked out for me. She’s my best friend and my biggest champion. It would be lovely to get to meet Natasha one day, too. Any friend of yours must be a delightful person who I’m sure I would like very much.

Your words are sweet as honey, Bobby, and make me feel just as warm and cozy inside. Whenever I’m having a difficult day, or the weight of the world’s troubles feel like they’re pressing down on me, I read your letters and they never fail to make me smile. I always knew that there were good men out there in the world—my father and Paddy have always been prime examples of that to me—but I think I was starting to doubt that there were many men left who were truly kind and good-hearted. You put those fears in my heart to rest. You are such a good man. I know we haven’t known each other long, and that most of our conversations have been through letters, but your warmth and your kindness always shine through.

I may not be able to speak to how unhappy your mother would be to learn about you falling asleep before your prayers—I like to think she’d understand, given the circumstances—but I can say with total confidence, despite never having met her, that she would be very happy and proud to know just what kind of man her oldest son is. I’m sure she already knows and is already so proud.

I keep you in my prayers every night, too, Bobby. You and Paul and his family and Tommy Boy and Benny, and all the rest of your squadron. All I ask for is that you all come home safely. And soon.

You’re in my thoughts. I look forward, as always, to your next letter, whenever it may arrive.

Affectionately Yours,

Peach

P.S. I almost forgot to mention that it was Frankie’s first Halloween! Unfortunately, the annual parade in town was canceled, but everyone still decorated and the children in the neighborhood got to go trick-or-treating. Dottie made Frankie a little pumpkin costume—he was the cutest little pumpkin you ever did see! We still have some candy lying around the house, which I wish I could send to you. Did Clara, Paul, Jr., and your brothers dress up this year? I hope they had lots of fun!

[luke-hughes43]

Just Friends | edwards x Luke!twin

Here is the Ethan fic, hope you enjoy!

Part 2 | Insta Edit

~You are Luke Hughes’s twin sister and play hockey and softball at the University of Michigan. You are very close with Luke given that you are twins. You are best friends with teammate, Ethan Edwards. You and Ethan were always flirty with each other but were always strictly friends. Until, maybe you weren’t.~

*This is a part one of I don’t know yet. Takes place freshman year.*

October, 2021

Morgan’s POV

I’m currently hanging out with my brother and our teammates. We decided to have a movie night in Ethan and Mark’s dorm, since I had a projector and Ethan didn’t put anything on his wall. I put on Miracle because we couldn’t decide on anything and I figured that everyone would be happy, and they were.

Somehow, I wound up squished between Ethan and Mark. Ethan is quite literally my best friend. We do everything together and it’s been that way since we stepped foot on campus. When we’re not in class, at hockey, or me at softball (because I’m a two sport athlete) we’re always together. 

Ethan put his arm around me and pulled me closer to him. This was a common thing we did. Me and Ethan are just friends though. I lean my head against his shoulder because I’m starting to get tired. I had 6 am weights for softball on top of three classes and hockey practice. This was a regular thing for me. I feel Ethan kiss my head (something that was also a common thing between us) and say, “Go to sleep, you had a long day. I’ll wake you when the movie is over and walk you back. Just close your eyes morgs.”

I nod and listen to him. I don’t really remember falling asleep but I remember hearing a camera click and someone that sounds like Dylan say, “They’re cute. Are we sure that they are just friends?”

“Yes. Morgan would’ve told me if she had a boyfriend. I’d know anyways, we’re twins remember.” Luke said in a ‘duh’ tone.

Mark comments. “And Ethan would’ve mentioned it. He talks about her a lot so it would’ve come up.”

“And neither Sarah or McKenna have mentioned it. So they’re just friends Dylan. Just drop it dude. Should we wake them?”

“Nah. She can stay. He’ll walk her home in the morning so it’s fine. She had a long day so let’s not disturb her. You guys should get some sleep too.” Next thing I know, I feel Ethan’s arms tighten around me and I drift back to sleep. 

January, 2022

Morgan’s POV

Now that the spring semester has started, my days have become longer as the softball team is in preseason mode. I have to rearrange my entire schedule to accommodate lift, two practices, 5 classes and games. It’s stressing me out. Hutch is letting me do individual practice with a coach. It’s pissing a lot of my teammates off because they think I’m slacking off when I’m doing double the work. They have started being bitches to me and it pisses me off.

I taught Ethan how to soft toss so that I could get BP in everyday. He’s actually pretty good at it. He throws to me every time I ask and I could not be more grateful. We’re at the cages right now since I had a break in my day. He says, “Three more mego. Then can we be done? I have homework and we have practice at 4.”

“Only if they are good ones.”

“Ok Ms. Perfectionist.” He says with attitude. He throws them and I hit all three of them perfectly to the top right corner of the cage. I put my bat down and we pick the balls up. I turn to Ethan who’s holding the bucket, and say, “Can we go to chipotle or something? I haven’t eaten today.”

“Seriously? It’s 12:30 and you had six am lift on top of back to back classes. And we have practice today.”

“I know that Ethan. I really don’t need you telling me what my schedule is. You sound like Luke.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just worried. You need to take care of yourself morgs.”

“Ethan, I’m fine. Can we just pick these up and get food?”

“Yea. And I’m buying your lunch.”

“Ethan…”

“Not up for debate. Just help me pick these up.” I laugh and we pick the rest of them up before we head to Ethan’s car and to chipotle. He stays true to his word and buys me lunch despite me protesting. A few of the girls from the team come in and see me with Ethan. Jess comments, “Oh, little miss hockey player is here. Must be blowing off practice again. Wish I could skip like that.”

“Oh and she’s with her little boyfriend. How cute? Wonder what he thinks of her skipping practice all the time.” Sierra says. Hearing that pisses me off. I don’t know why but it just does. I say, “can we go?” Ethan says, “yea. Are you ok?” I shake my head no and he says, “Ok. Let’s go then, yea?”

I nod and he holds my hand and leads me out to the car but we don’t get in it. He pulls me in for a hug and I relax under his touch. I think I’m developing feelings for him and it scares me. Ethan rubs my back and whispers, “Hey, it’s ok. Morgs, you’re ok.”

He kisses my head and I pull away no longer wanted to hit something. I wipe the tears that I apparently shed. He forces me to look at him and he asks, “What happened back there? I’ve never seen you mad like that before.”

“I told you about the softball team basically hating me because of me doing individual practices right?” He nods so I continue, “Well, they’ve been making comments and shit. I usually use it as motivation but it’s been getting to my head. Only Luke knows. He’s the only one I wanted to know. And now you.”

“So then what just happened?”

“Two of the girls in there were on the team and made comments about how I must be skipping practice again and how I’m with my little boyfriend as they refer to you as and said something about what you must think about me skipping practice. That’s not even the worst thing that’s been said. I’m just done with it, all of it Ethan. Sometimes I wish I just played hockey and never played softball in the first place. I can’t keep doing this, it doesn’t feel worth it anymore Eddy.” 

He pulls me back in for a hug and he says, “you know that they aren’t right meg. You are the hardest working person I’ve ever met. It takes real talent, skill, dedication, and sacrifice to play two division one sports like you’re doing. We’re extremely proud of you. Luke for damn sure is. He brags about you when you’re not around. I’m proud of you too. Don’t let them get in your head. I know it sucks. But you’ve worked so hard for this. Hutch knows that, she knows knows that your putting in double the work. It’s gonna pay off. And I’ll be at every damn game, cheering the loudest for number 6 who is my best friend in whole fucking world.”

I mutter, “thank you.” We pull away and head back to school so try and get homework done before practice. I mean we are students too. I hope he’s right and that everything will pay off in the end.

April, 2022

Morgan’s POV

Today is our rivalry game against State. The whole hockey team is here. I’m excited. Ever since our season ended, they’ve been at every home game and even traveled when we played State at State. These boys really do have my back and I love them for it.

Ethan was right, I got this. Bottom of the seventh, tied at 0, two outs. I get down to my last strike. The pitcher winds up and I get my bat on the ball, sending it over the fence, to win the game. As I’m rounding first base, I hear from the stands, “That’s my best friend right there. WOO! Go blue!”

I shake my head at my Ethan. I can hear Luke too, “That’s my twin right there. Hell yea morg! Go blue!” I turn and see Ethan and Luke chest bump. God I hate them sometimes. But they pulled up like they promised so I deal with it. I approach third base and get ready to high-five Hutch as I jog by. Literally the whole hockey team is on their feet cheering for me especially since we just beat State.

“That’s our girl.” I hear from Nolan Moyle.

“WOO! That’s my girl right there! Number 6 on the field, number 1 in my heart! I love you morgs!” I hear from Ethan fucking Edwards. Oh my god. Ethan is definitely drunk. I laugh it off and get greeted by the team. They're happy but I think it’s because we won, not because I hit a walk off. 

It sucks because straight up only like 6 girls like me. Alex, McKenna, Audrey, Kaylee, Sarah, and Ella. Alex is transferring and using her 5th year somewhere else so I’m losing one of my girls. It’s tough but I got my boys.

After we shake hands and everything, I head to the locker room and grab my backpack. I usually just change at the house after games. I go out to all of the boys waiting for me. Ethan comes running over and engulfs me in a huge hug. He reeks of beer. He says, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Party at my house at 9 morgan. Invite whoever. We’re celebrating.” J Bone says. J Bone and his parties. I nod and text my girls and tell them. I ask them not to tell the other girls because I wanted to drink and get drunk tonight. 

*At J Bone’s*

I walk in and everybody cheers for me. I immediately get a drink put in my hand by the bone man himself. J Bone stands up by the speakers and. He says, “Alright, everybody shut up for a sec. For those who don’t know, our girl Morgan Hughes, is a two sport athlete. She dominates on the ice for us and kicks ass on the softball field. Today she hit a walk off homerun to beat State. So this is for her. A toast to our superstar. To Morgan!”

“To Morgan!” Everyone toasts me, making me blush. He gets down and turns the music back on. I immediately down my drink and get another before finding my girls. I get greeted in a hug by them. McKenna says, “Ethan is staring.” 

“He’s staring at you with heart eyes.” Alex says.

“He’s my best friend. He’s also drunk and probably just horny. Let’s not talk about Ethan.” I say.

“As you wish.” Audrey says. We start dancing together. After about two hours, I’m like 7 or 8 in and drunk as fuck. I feel hands go on my hips and someone behind me. I start dancing on them. I’m feeling extra confident, probably the booze. Oh I’m definitely not gonna remember any of this tomorrow. I turn and see my best friend, Ethan Edwards. Neither of us have a problem with this since we’ve always been flirty with each other. We stay like that for a bit before Ethan whispers, “I’m gonna get another, do you want one?”

“Yes please.” I say and kiss his cheek. I could smell the alcohol on him. I also say, “I’m gonna go find Luke while I can still kinda walk.”

“Ok. Just stay there until I come with your drink.” He says kissing my cheek this time. I stumble through the house to find my brother talking with J Bone, Chic, Moyle, Keato, and Grano. I stumble into him saying, “Lukey!” He grabs me smiling, “Morgy. Having fun?”

“Fuck yea. J Bone, your a g man. Sick fucking party.” I say slurring my words. The guys laugh. J Bone says, “Thanks lady Hughes. How many have you had?”

“Uh, I can’t count that high J Bone. Ethan went to get me another one.”

Moyle says, “Oh boy. Good to know.”

“Was he drunk at my game? He seemed it.” I asked. Luke laughs and says,“Yes. You’re staying at my house tonight by the way. You have no choice.”

I say, “Ok.” “You doing ok?” He asks being a little concerned. I nod, “I’m doing great. Has Ethan been drinking all day?” Luke laughs, “Oh yea. He started when he got out of class. I’ve never seen him drink this much.”

“Oh. Can I tell you a secret? But you have to promise not to tell Ethan.” I say. He looks at me smiling, “Twin promise.”

“Boys, block your ears. Lukey’s ears only.” They laugh and then block their ears. I pull Luke down closer to me since he’s so fucking tall and whisper in his ear, “I’m in love with Ethan.”

“I knew that morgy. It’s obvious. You just play it off as best friends. But you’re both drunk so make a move. You both won’t remember so no harm no foul.”

“This is why your my favorite. Your so smart.”

“Glad I can help.” He taps J Bone and they unplug their ears. I stumble over my own feet and Moyle grabs me before I fall. “Woah, you ok lady Hughes?”

“I’m fucking wonderful Moyle. We beat State, there’s no reason to not be ok.”

They all laugh and I hug Luke. He wraps one arm around me to keep me from falling over. Ethan eventually finds us and hands me my drink. I say, “Oh yay! You just became my favorite. Sorry not sorry Luke.” Ethans wraps an arm around me pulling me into him. I smile and say, “Let’s dance Ethan.” We walk off towards the dance floor. 

Luke’s POV

I use Morgan going off with Ethan as my opportunity to make a move on McKenna. We’ve been flirting for a few months but I really like her and want her to be my girl. 

I see her dancing with the girls so I go up behind McKenna and whisper in her ear, “Hey baby.” and then kiss her cheek. She turns and smiles at me. “Hey lukey. Finally come to hit the dance floor?”

“Just for you baby.” I say a smirk and pull her close to me.

I grab her hips to dance along with her. She looks up and at me smiles. She reaches up and runs her fingers through my hair. I look down at her with a smirk, “Can I kiss you McKenna?” She nods and I lean in to kiss her.

Morgan’s POV

I look to my right while dancing with Ethan and see Luke kissing McKenna. What the fuck? She’s my best friend. A heads up would’ve been nice. I point it out to Ethan, “He’s kissing her. She’s my best friend.”

“So then kiss his.”

“I am not kissing Dylan.”

“I meant me morgs.”

“Oh. ok.” He leans in and kisses me. I have a feeling that we are both so drunk that we aren’t gonna remember this in the morning. I can taste the beer on his lips. Everything is so fuzzy right now, but I think that’s the alcohol. I don’t remember us stopping but somehow I’m in Luke’s car and cuddled into Ethan’s side in the back while McKenna is in the front seat holding luke’s hand. I’m cold, tired, drunk. “Ethan I’m cold.”

“I know baby. We’re almost at the house. I’ll give you a sweatshirt to sleep in.”

“Thank you. Can I stay with you tonight?” I plead.

“Yea.” Luke pulls into the driveway and has to help us both inside. Ethan almost falls over getting out which is problematic to say the least. I do fall over getting out. “Ow. Ethan why’d you let me fall?”

“I tried baby.”

“No you didn’t. Neither did you Luke, your a bad brother.”

“Morgan, come on. Your drunk and it’s cold. You need to get to bed.” He says trying to get me up. Ethan comes over and tries to help too. I swat their hands away and try to get up myself. I say, “I can take care of myself. And I’m not that drunk.”

“Morgan, seriously. Stop being difficult.”

“I can take care of myself Luke. Just because we’re twins doesn’t mean I need you every second of every day. I’m 18. I don’t need you anymore.”

“Stop being fucking difficult Morgan. Just let us fucking help you. You’re black out drunk right now and don’t know what your doing. Stop being a stubborn bitch, shut up, and just let us fucking help.” He snaps at me. He’s never snapped at me like that. I stand up and lean against Ethan. I snap back at Luke, “Fuck you Luke. Go to hell. Don’t talk to me like that.”

Ethan and I stumble our way up to Ethan’s room. He hands me a sweatshirt and I change for bed. I’ll deal with makeup later. “Hey Ethan?” He looks at me with a raised eyebrow. I kiss him one last time for the night and say, “Good night.”

“Good night.” We climb into bed and drift off to sleep.

I wake up the next morning and I’m in Ethan’s sweatshirt and cuddled into Ethan. I look under the covers and check that we are both wearing clothes which is a relief but I don’t remember anything from last night. I don’t even remember getting here. What the fuck happened last night?

I hear Ethan moving next to me, “Why do I feel like I was hit by a bus?”

“I don’t know. Last thing I remember is being at J Bone’s with McKenna and the girls. What do you remember?” I say rubbing my eyes. 

“I remember your brother scolding me for pregaming your game. And I remember your homerun. After that, couldn’t tell you.”

We laugh and then drag ourselves downstairs. I see Luke sitting on the couch watch tv with McKenna. When the fuck did she get here? Luke hears us and says, “Morning. Tylenol is on the counter.”

“Indoor voices.” I say rubbing my temple trying to sooth the headache. I grab the Tylenol and chug some gatorade. Ethan does the same and we both feel like death. I groan and lean against him hugging him. He hugs me back and asks Luke, “What happened last night? Neither of us remember anything.”

“Well, eddy you blacked out at like five from your day drinking. You guys spent most of J Bone’s party with each other. We had eyes on you since you both were blacked out. I was sober and drove home. You guys fell asleep within a half hour of being home.”

I zoned out like halfway through Luke talking. I need food or I’m gonna puke. I use ethan’s chest to hide the light because of my headache. I groan and say, “I’m starving. Can we get food?”

“Yea. I’ll drive. I’m good to drive I promise.”

“Ok.” We got into his car and drove off the get breakfast. He paid for mine, like he usually does no matter my protests. And we head back to the house. I take it nothing happened last night because Luke would’ve said something. We go to Ethan’s room and I cuddle into him to sleep this hangover off.

At least I can chalk up anything I did last night to being drunk. I’m just hoping that I didn’t blurt out that I’m in love with him.

(I have a part 2 ready and currently working on part 3 if anyone's interested)

[acourtofthought]

I don’t think Elain will step out her comfort zone until someone pushes her to- - which is how I think her book will start (rather than her going deeper into the abyss like nesta did; interestingly, both r avoidance tactics)

Do you have any theories for how that push might be made for her? Or if she would push herself? Like what would be incentive enough for her im wondering

Another sort of related question-

Do you think that Elain should motivate herself to show her capabilities to those around her instead of them continuing to have their own idea of her. Or could her past with Feyre be a rzn for why others aren’t sure what she’s capable of?

Sry this is a lot! Hope this didn’t come off negative in any way!

I actually think we've already seen Elain step out of her comfort zone in SF, first with volunteering to search for the Trove, then telling Nesta that she cannot prevent her from doing more and again when she went to the Hewn City. Feyre offered to let her stay home because they know the cruelty of the Hewn City troubles her "but she hadn't hesitated to come." "Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was part of this court - and would do whatever was needed."

To me, in regards to Elain's character, SF was an exercise in "well look what we have here". We have Nesta surprised that Elain didn't break down in tears at the mention of Graysen. We have Nesta surprised at Elain challenging her. We have Feyre surprised at the teeth Elain showed. We have Elain pushing for them to take her seriously which neither Az or Nesta seemed to do (and which they were reprimanded for by Elain herself and Amren). We have Rhys acknowledge that maybe they've all been stifling her but that she's probably capable of more than they give her credit for. I think the natural next step to all that would be either for them to finally seek out Elain for her help which I imagine she would eagerly agree too (considering she was already there in Nesta's book) or Elain once again tries to volunteer as she did in SF and this time she receives the green light versus the push back she got before. I think there's many ways SJM could go about this. Maybe Elain will offer to marry Lucien to form an alliance between the different courts and those in the human lands since he's now friends with Vassa and Jurian. The NC struggles with it's public persona and a "bride from the NC" playing nice with someone who represents the people and fae pretty much everywhere else would help their image. Maybe Rhys or Elain will suggest that she go to Spring to verify Lucien's information. The author had the characters discuss how she might be willing to get her hands dirty so maybe it'll be under the guise of spending time with Lucien (which would then turn into love after an initial spat once he realized why she was first truly sent there). Maybe they've become concerned about what Beron is up to and they'll ask her to head to Day to learn more about her Seer powers so she can look into the future.

As for this question: Do you think that Elain should motivate herself to show her capabilities to those around her instead of them continuing to have their own idea of her. Or could her past with Feyre be a rzn for why others aren’t sure what she’s capable of? I think that's what we saw in SF, or the start of it, though I do think blame for any misconceptions of her prior to that can be blamed on Elain as well as her sisters. It's not that Elain couldn't have fought a little harder to be understood but at the same time, it's not her job to make a fuss to get people to see her. She seemed to constantly be in the middle of everyone else's arguments, Nesta with their father, Nesta and Feyre, Nesta and the IC when they first came to their house and at it was probably easier to just make herself as small and quiet as possible so as not to add to the discord when there was already so much of it. Some people truly do not like fighting so it may have been easier to avoid confrontation rather than demand they change their perception of her. Also, it's really difficult to change someone's perception if they aren't receptive to seeing it. There were little moments of Elain showing her intelligence, her bravery, and if the others still were stuck on placing her in a box, what is throwing a fit going to really do? It's not going to make those people stop and say, "wow you're right!" It's going to make them say, "look at her acting irrationally" or just ignore it all together. For example, Elain literally said "I am not a child to be fought over" and "you cannot tell me what I can and cannot do", Az went on to talk about how Elain shouldn't be exposed to the Darkness of the Trove. Nesta went on to think about how she still can't let Elain look for it. Amren then even told Az, "don't underestimate her" yet he never gave her credit in HOFAS for helping to kill the King. Elain does speak up but when it falls on deaf ears, it's not really worth her time to keep trying.

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (33)

part 33 of ?? | 1085 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

“It’s not like you have to leave or make yourself scarce or anything,” Eddie had said, obviously trying to cushion the harsh truth. “You live here too, man.” Right. Like Eddie is going to want someone like him around all his older Hellfire buddies.

Just so y'all know, I have written up through part 40 and I do not think I will be able to wrap up the story by 42, as my heart of hearts wishes I could.

Anyway, cheers to Steve being so insecure that he kind of doesn't notice Eddie defending him with flowery prose.

33.

“It’s not like you have to leave or make yourself scarce or anything,” Eddie had said, obviously trying to cushion the harsh truth. “You live here too, man.”

Right. Like Eddie is going to want someone like him around all his older Hellfire buddies. These aren’t the kids. They have no reason to like him, and he doesn’t even understand the game; Steve has no right to butt in.  

But he doesn’t have a shift today, and Robin is hanging out with Vickie, and he doesn’t feel like going anywhere. He wakes up early out of sheer restlessness and tries to recreate the technique for cooking bacon that Mrs. Wheeler had shown him over Spring Break. So much had been going on then, but it had been good bacon, and the first hearty breakfast he’d had in a while. Every time he’d said so she’d beamed and flipped another fresh-off-the-griddle pancake onto his plate; after a while he’d asked for the recipe out of habit.

At least he hadn't gone into the Upside Down on an empty stomach. 

He makes breakfast, doing okay on the bacon. (He’ll have to keep practicing.) Wayne eats with him before his shift at the plant—part time these days, with the government money to help things along, and all day shifts now. There’s no pressure for small talk, and Steve appreciates that. He keeps his eyes down, sipping his coffee and bringing the fork to his mouth until his plate is empty. Before heading out Wayne claps a hand on his shoulder, leaving him buzzing with an unfamiliar feeling of approval.

So he wraps the leftovers in tin foil so they’ll still be warm-ish for when Eddie wakes up, and bakes cookies, too. Why the hell not? There’s a bag of chocolate chips in one of the cupboards and the recipe is right there on the bag. Steve follows it to the letter; he’s good at following instructions. 

The cookies are out of the oven and cooling by the time that Eddie shuffles in, and Steve. . . . God, Steve should not feel as gooey on the inside as he does over the guy’s epic bed head. He wants to run his fingers through it until all the tangles are gone and the curls spill across Eddie’s shoulders instead of frizzing out in complete defiance of gravity.

He passes Eddie a clean mug for coffee—the Garfield one that Steve knows is his favorite—and escapes the kitchen without a word. 

Steve doesn’t know if they’re playing D&D or what, but whatever they’re doing out there is loud. Eddie had mentioned that two of them were coming back to town for this. . . . Maybe they have a lot of catching up to do, so as a courtesy Steve doesn’t put music on to drown them out. Instead, he pulls out a deck of cards and starts playing.

It’s been a while. He used to do this a lot as a kid, when his parents were home throwing a grown up party where they didn’t want him underfoot, or alone and shouting at each other. Steve had never learned how to shuffle a deck the right way, first because his hands were too small and later because he’d devised his own ways. He plays the way farmers rotate their crops, going from solitaire games that put the suits together in numerical order to 52 card pickup to playing both sides of a game of War to randomize the deck again. Just killing time.

Because this house isn’t like the one Steve grew up in. It’s one story and there aren’t half as many extra rooms to soak up and hollow out sounds, so he hears every arrival and most of the exclamations over the cookies he'd never put away. (Which is fine, he bakes when he knows people will be around to eat the results.)

But he can’t make out actual words, not until he reaches the point where he can’t ignore his bladder any longer. With a mental middle finger flipped at his past self for drinking so much coffee earlier, Steve slips out of his room in time to hear—

“So what’s with Steve living with you, man?” 

He’s pretty sure that’s what’s-his-name. . . . Not Gary. . . . Gareth? That sounds right. 

“Yeah,” someone else pipes up through a mouthful of cookie . Steve doesn’t remember his name, but it’s not Gareth or Jeff. (He wonders if Eddie bothered to mention who made them.) “I mean, talk about your typical douchebag jock. That guy was the king of ‘em, why’d you even let him in the door?”

Someone else, the only girl at this little reunion of nerds, scoffs. “For fuck’s sake, you idiots are so stuck in high school.”

“I concur, Margaret.” That’s Eddie, and he sounds annoyed. “That’s a rude fucking question, Gare-bear. Do you know of him doing anything downright objectionable in the past year since he graduated? Granted, I only recently escaped the hallowed halls of our mutually beloathed—”

“Not a word,” several people object at once, like it's an inside joke.

“—Our mutually beloathed Hawkins High,” Eddie says, loud and powering through, “but it comes with different social structures and adaptation requirements. It is, if you’ll excuse the phrase, a whole different ball game—”

“Fuck, the exposure is already getting to him.”

And yeah, Steve is pretty sure he’s said something like that in the past week or so. It was about getting the kids to listen during emergency Upside Down situations versus normal times, but still. Oops. 

“I said pardon the phrase, Frank.”

“Eddie’s right,” Margaret cuts in. “Popularity, or freakhood, doesn’t transfer directly from high school to college. It’s a social reset, like going from being the oldest kids at middle school to bottom of the barrel freshman in high school. From high school to working can’t be that much different.”

“So you’re saying that King Steve is at the bottom of the barrel?” Gareth asks, audibly skeptical. 

“Nope, pretty sure that’s still me,” Eddie replies, with a brightness so fake it sets Steve’s teeth on edge. There’s something raw to it that he can’t begin to understand. Maybe Robin was right, and there is something bothering Eddie. 

Maybe something like . . . a housemate who listens in on his conversations?

There’s no way he could know, but Steve still winces and hurries to the bathroom. Sticking around for a possible debate about his worth to society or whatever wouldn’t be all that great a time, no matter which way it goes.

[theewokingdead]

Mine - Dave York x f!Nanny Reader

gif by @pedropascalsx

Masterlist

Pairing: Dave York x f!Nanny Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3.4k Summary: You’ve always resisted your feelings for your boss, but what happens when you finally give in? Warnings: Cheating/Infidelity, unhappy marriage, age gap, language, fingering, praise kink, light choking/hands on throat, possessive yet protective Dave. A/N: Please do not read this if infidelity upsets you. This is my first Dave York fic and I wanted to try writing a dark character. What better way to celebrate Thirsty Thursday?

A part of you doesn’t know why you’re here. It’s not like Dave is your father; you don’t need his permission to leave the house. The man is your boss, and his home your workplace, but you have the freedom to come and go as you please. Not to mention your job is done for the evening, having dropped the girls off for a birthday party slash sleepover earlier in the day. Why, then, are you lingering outside of Dave York’s home office, debating whether you should go inside?

Since meeting him, your feral side has been trying to claw its way out of you in desperate search of fulfilling primal needs. Something about him drew you to him. Maybe it’s his look, seeming like he could break your back like a fucking glowstick with his broad, powerful shoulders, strong arms, and large hands. Maybe it’s how he seems soft despite his military and government backgrounds, the way he interacts with the girls, his puppy-dog eyes that light up when he smiles, his smooth babyface when he’s cleanshaven, and the way he can always make you laugh with his playfulness. Maybe it’s the way you both seem to click. Or how you’d look up and catch him stealing glimpses of you from across the room or sneaking peeks of your lips while you spoke, both of you pretending it didn’t happen when you catch him. The tension is there, pulling at both of you like a strong magnet.

And you cannot deny your attraction any longer.

But you keep coming back to your senses, reminding yourself that he is your boss. That he is married – unhappily, but still married. That you could ruin his chances of gaining the upper hand in an inevitable divorce – despite his wife’s own infidelities. That you could be fired if you allow you rash craving to carry you away.

But, fuck, it’s something you want – need – so badly.

Mind seemingly made up, you lightly knock on the partially closed door, smoothing your dress and adjusting your posture while waiting to be invited in.

This is crazy.

“It’s open,” Dave calls from inside, his tone monotonous, sounding as though he doesn’t want to be bothered.

Don't go in… the little angel on your shoulder tries to warn you, but the devil beside you smothers it before there's even a chance.

Opening the door of Dave's dimly lit office, you find him seated at his desk, staring intently at the computer. As you approach the desk, he doesn’t look up, probably thinking it’s Carol, who rarely speaks to him outside of arguments and matters concerning the girls.

“Is there anything you need before I go, Mr. York?” you question, folding your hands in front of you, playing shy.

Your voice immediately draws Dave's attention. He eagerly lifts his head, his mouth falling slightly open when he sees you. His soft, chocolatey eyes quickly travel down your body, seeming to catch sight of the roundness of your breasts and hips that the dress seems to accentuate. Tiny goosebumps spring up along your arms, thighs, and legs, as if everywhere his eyes touch gets warm and tingly. Is this a rash of shame?

Having realized he was staring, Dave clears his throat, turning the sound into an awkward chuckle. He rubs his thumb across his lip before upturning them into a sheepish smile.

“I, uh…Sorry,” he says, sounding flustered. “What did you say?”

“I asked if there’s anything you need before I go,” you repeat.

“Go?” he questions, seeming disappointed that you have somewhere to be.

“I, um… I have a date tonight,” you remind him, knowing he had overheard when you informed Carol that you would be going out tonight – both as a formality and, well, honestly, to get a rise out of Dave.

“Right,” he responds. Are you just hearing what you want to hear or is there a hint of jealousy in his voice?

“With Shawn,” he adds in a sing-song voice, playfully teasing you, just as he often does with his daughters.

“John.” Though you correct him with a small laugh, you’re screaming inside, wondering if he really only sees you as the nanny, or maybe even a child, considering the slight age difference.

The cellphone laying facedown on his desk starts to ring and you fear this is the end of your interaction, but he quickly grabs it and declines the call.

“Right,” he repeats quickly, pointing his cellphone at you and smiling, which you return. His smile quickly fades from his face before bringing his phone to your lips, seeming to study you. After a moment, he discards his phone back on his desk then brings his hand to his lips, his elbow on the arm of his chair. He looks away, seeming to ponder if he should say what he’s thinking. 

“And do you think you’re dressed appropriately for – what? A first date?

“Fourth date,” you correct him again, this time with less enthusiasm. “And I’ve worn this dress to plenty of things before.” You look down at the garment, pulling at the fabric of the skirt with one hand. It’s simple but doesn’t leave much to the imagination, more skin showing than not. Contrary to what you said, it’s not something you usually wear. “Is there something wrong with it?”

Dave purses his lips. “No. Not at all.” He shifts in his seat, then throws you a simple smile and waves you off, his attention returning to his laptop while he says, “Don't let me keep you. Enjoy the night off.”

Returning his smile, you nod, but you can’t help but feel disappointed. Had you read everything wrong? Is he really not into you?

Fuck, I’m so stupid.

“I will,” you respond. “Thank you.”

Before leaving, you glance at his profile, his eyes, the shape of his nose, his tousled hair. The top button of his blue collared shirt is undone, the tie and suit jacket long since cast-off after a long day at the office.

God, he’s perfect like this.

You watch as he lays his large hand on the edge of the laptop, his index finger lazily gliding across the touchpad. Fuck, his fingers are so long…and thick.

The thought of him touching you tempts you to squeeze your thighs together to relieve the pressure between them, but instead you squeeze the pressure point between your thumb and index finger, trying to stop both the need to have an orgasm and the urge to cry. It hurts so much that you can’t have him, but you accept that you were wrong.

Without another word, you back away, then turn and move toward the door, your disappointment apparent.

“You can do better, you know.”

You pause at his voice and inwardly draw your lips, gentling biting them to prevent the twisted smile on your face from growing any bigger. Is there still hope?

“Sorry?” you question, feigning confusion while turning to him.

Leaning with his elbow on the arm of his chair, he looks at you. “You deserve better than him.”

Amused by his statement, you respond with a soft, flirtatious chuckle, adding a little sway to your movements as you step back up to his desk. “What makes you think that?”

Dave flashes you a roguish grin, radiating light. “Let’s just say I know things you don’t and leave it at that.”

Now, you’re genuinely confused. You know he’s CIA. Could he use his position for personal interests? To keep tabs on the people around him?

Eyebrows knit together, you ask, “Did you…Did you run some sort of background check on him?”

He doesn’t deny the accusation and instead all but explicitly admits it. “I need to know who you plan to bring around my daughters.”

You don’t know whether to be angry, happy, scared, or indifferent toward – or even turned on by - the fact he basically creeped on a man you’ve shown interest in. Though you know he cares deeply about his daughters, you don’t accept his reasoning for doing whatever he did.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you openly claim, “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Your response intrigues him. “What makes you say that?”

“You know I would never do anything that would put the girls in danger. You wouldn’t have hired me if you didn’t trust me.”

A serious look appears on his face. He studies you with narrow eyes, as if trying to determine if you will give up easily. You stare back, glaring angrily but carefully studying his eyes, hoping to see a glimmer of the truth.

“Alright,” he muses, folding his arms in front of him. “What if I said that I was just trying to protect you?”

The thought of him wanting to protect you sends tingles all over your body, though you try not to show it. “Then I would say, ‘Thank you, Mr. York, but I’m not yours to protect.’”

The standoff continues for several moment, you meeting his stare and holding it with resolve you definitely don’t actually feel. You don’t care if you win; you’re still just trying to get a rise out of him.

And you’re successful.

He is the first to break, responding with a low grating sound, a half-laughter, half-growl that rolls in his throat.

“No. You’re not.” A shadow of shame or – dare you believe - disappointment hangs in his voice. He leans back in his chair and turns his head slightly away from you, his lips pursed tightly, three deep furrows on his forehead, showing some sort of internal strife.

Although he remains still, his eyes pan to you, his pupils coming dangerously close to swallowing his irises, looking as though he could devour you.

“But you could be.”

You find yourself falling into the black flames of his eyes, burning with lust. Your heart starts thumping and a flurry of emotions wash over you: the thrill of excitement and the fear of getting caught mixed with the undeniable buzz of arousal.

A slight chill spreads through your body as Dave rises from his seat and moves to the door, stirring the air beside you, causing every hair on your body to stand on end.

“Imagine if you were…”

You hear him close and lock the door, then listen as his slow, heavy footsteps move toward you. Before your conscious can rear its head and tell him to stop, his hard, warm body gently presses against you from behind. His scent intoxicates you, and you want to turn around and bury your head in his chest and inhale deeply. You are completely powerless to resist him, ready to do exactly as he says.

“Imagine all the things I would do for you - do to you.”

Tell me, you want to say, but you find yourself unable to speak.

“Do you have any idea the things you make me want to do?”

The moment his hand touches the bare skin of your back, exposed by the cut of your dress, you suck in a sharp breath. A delicious shiver that has nothing to do with wind runs down your spine, tingling with awareness. Your heart is pounding so loud you’re certain he can hear it in the silence of the room.

“I would kill for you,” Dave murmurs, gently gliding his hand down your back, sinfully producing a low quiver in your tummy.  His gesture is tender, but it’s clear by his words that his thoughts are anything but pure. “I would murder any man or woman who’d dare to even think of hurting you…or taking you away from me.”

Heat slides through you, turning you on more than it probably should.

“This is very inappropriate, Mr. York. I hope you know that,” you say, knowing this is wrong on so many levels. But you also know that only other people would think it wrong. To you, this feels so good, so right. You’re comfortable with him, and though the situation is twisted, how can you deny how you really feel?

Dave removes his hand from your body. “If you want me to stop…”

Turning your head, you look at him through your eyelashes and state in a seductive voice, “That’s not what I said.”

His chuckle in response is just low and hollow. “Good.”

With your consent, he nudges at the thin straps of your dress and pulls them down over your shoulders, letting them dangle down your arms.

“Then let me tell you what’s inappropriate, sweetheart,” he says into your ear, his voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it before. He kisses your neck while lowering the straps further, sliding the dress down your body. “Coming in here in this skimpy little dress of yours, getting me all hot and bothered like the fucking tease that you are…that’s inappropriate. I bet you’re not even wearing panties, are you?”

Taking a deep breath, the garment falls to the floor, pooling at your feet. You stand there completely naked and vulnerable. Releasing your breath, you close your eyes, savoring the anticipation of whatever he wants to do with you.

Chuckling with a twisted satisfaction, Dave sweeps your hair away, brushing it all to one side, fully exposing your neck and shoulder. A hand snakes up your neck as he wraps an arm around you, the other gently resting on your waist, holding you close to him. As his fingers splay across your throat, you tilt your head, granting him full access. His lips are soft and warm, same as your skin to him, as he caresses you with them, planting a hot trail of kisses down your neck. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing deeply, allowing himself to become drunk with your scent. It makes you feel beautiful, desirable.

“You came in here begging to be fucked, didn’t you?” His voice is filled with fire and desire.

Whimpering, you capture your lower lip between your teeth. Your pussy weeping, you push your ass against him, giving him hints of what you want, while his rock-hard erection nudges into your back, making promises to enter your throbbing sex.

“Fuck,” he groans before sinking his teeth into your flesh, nipping at your skin. “Answer me. Did you come here wanting me to fuck you?”

The slight pain of his bite, the heat of his breath, the commanding tone in his voice; it all makes you heady with need.

“Y-yes,” you sigh.

“That’s what I thought.”

While the hand on your throat moves down to cup a breast, the one on your waist moves further down, tracing every dip and curve along the way. His calloused hands are rough yet gentle as they glide across your bare skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Dave praises before nibbling your ear. “So fucking impossible to resist.”

He runs down and around your leg, then slides his hand up your inner thighs to massage the warm skin there.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to touch you like this?”

Biting your lip, you shake your head.

“How many nights I’ve fucked my own hand, even fucked my wife, while thinking about you? Pretending it was your pretty little pussy, imagining your voice in my ear telling me how much you want me, how much you need me.”

A tingling sensation settles even more fiercely between your legs. You are melting inside, your heart racing, wanting more, more, more. Your mouth dry, you nervously lick at your lips. Though you love the anticipation, if he doesn’t put something in you soon, you’re going to explode.

Dave moves his hand, feeling the top of your mound before moving his fingers down to your folds, which are already slick with desire, embarrassingly so.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Look at that. Already so fucking wet.”

He parts your swollen folds, making you gasp, then runs his fingers along your slit. He circles and caresses you there, not quite touching the part of you that aches and throbs for him.

“You don’t know how much I’ve thought about eating your pussy,” he murmurs. “I want to lick it. I want to suck on your clit until you scream. I want to push my tongue so far up your pussy and make you come until you’re dripping down my face. I bet you taste so fucking sweet, don’t you?”

The thought alone nearly breaks the dam, but you feel him dripping on him. “Why don’t you taste for yourself?” you offer.

“No,” he responds, and his refusal makes you whine, thinking he’s going to prolong your pleasure for as long as possible. “No, I want you to tell me what you need first. Tell me what you need, baby, and I’ll give it to you.”

Your only response is another whimper, desperately moving your body in search of some sort of relief from the pressure growing inside you.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Dave asks.

You nod frantically. “Yes. Please. Touch me.”

“Good girl.”

His fingers trace then part your folds, finding your swollen nub before gently strumming it. You throw your head back, arching against him. His hand feels like nothing you’ve ever felt before, and you don’t want him to stop.

“Oh, shit, Dave,” you gasp. “F-fuck. Fuck me. I want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah?” he questions, to which you nod. “You think you’re ready for my cock?”

Your nod is more frantic this time, whimpering softly.

“No,” he growls. “Not yet. First, I’m going to fuck you with my fingers until you are pleading to have my cock inside you. Then I’m going to make you come. Then, and only then, will I consider giving you my cock. Think you can do that? Can you be a good girl for me?”

“Mhm,” you whine. “Yes.”

Cupping your entire sex, Dave slides a finger in you, murmuring soft words of praise in your ear as you take him. He thrusts his finger in and out, slow at first, allowing you to get accustomed to the feel of him before adding a second, stretching you and sinking his long fingers deep into your aching wetness.

“Fuck, you look so good with my fingers inside you,” he remarks.

You let out a moan, the base of Dave’s palm rubbing against your clit as he pumps inside you. He squeezes a breast with his other hand, stopping to circle your nipple with his thumb before pinching it.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks. “Or were you hoping I’d see you in that dress and have no choice but to bend you over my desk and take you like one of my fuck toys?”

“Shit! Yes,” you moan.

“Maybe I should. Maybe I should fuck you then send you to your little boyfriend with my cum dripping out of your pussy. Remind you who you really belong to.”

“Please!” you cry out.

“Please what?” he questions, his breath in your ear nearly enough to send you over the edge.

“Please fuck me. Please!”

Dave thrusts his fingers inside you once more then draws them free, using the dampness of your desire to caress your swollen nub. He moves through your folds and sinks two fingers back inside you, the pad of his thumb messily tracing circles around your clit.

Closing your eyes, your breath goes ragged. Pleasure burns within you, and at any second, a time bomb filled with bliss will explode within you. You’re so close; he can tell by the way you’re tightening around him, squeezing your fingers.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me,” he encourages.

When you open your mouth to cry out your release, the hand teasing your nipple quickly flies up to cover your mouth, covering most of your lower face.

“Shhh,” he whispers. “Good girl – that’s a good fucking girl.”

One of your hands instinctively reaches up and grabs his arm, looking for something to squeeze, your fingernails digging into his flesh as your muffled screams tear into his palm. You writhe against his hand as your climax surges out of control, wave after wave of burning, shattering pleasure rippling through you. He holds you captive, his fingers continuing to pleasure you, prolonging your ecstasy and making you climax back-to-back, your body quivering and shaking at his touch.

After your second orgasm, you go weak and your legs turn into jelly, barely able to hold you up. You’re grateful he is there, trusting him enough to sink against him when you can no longer take more. Slowly, he removes his fingers from you, causing you to gasp from the overstimulation. His hand falls from your mouth and his arm wraps around the front of your body, holding you against him.

“You’re mine,” Dave whispers into your ear. “Do you understand? Mine.”

After nodding, you let your head fall back onto his shoulder, still grasping his arm, but less tightly, wishing you could hold onto him forever.

“I’m yours,” you pant, still trying to catch your breath.

His cock aches with want, needing to fuck you so badly.

“Good,” he growls, letting go of you now that you appear steady on your feet. “Now go to my desk, bend over it, and spread your legs.”

[ronanceautistic]

i haven’t talked enough about the hot mess that is the Wheeler family /Ednancy siblings in my headcanon. So like. hear me out see if you vibe.

Karen dated Al Munson in high school, slightly older guy who already has an infant son. No one approved of this. So Karen felt pressure to settle down with a good, wealthy man and so broke up with him and dated Ted. Little while later, finds out she’s pregnant, either of them could be the father. She knows the kid will have a good life with Ted - money, good home, etc. So she doesn’t stir the pot. Tells Ted she’s pregnant, says it’s absolutely his and lies and says she never went all the way with Al.

Anyways. By the time Nancy is three or four god Karen can tell. She can tell she was absolutely wrong on her guess of who the father was and she just hopes Ted is none the wiser. And he isn’t! He doesn’t think twice, and as far as she is concerned it doesn’t really matter, right? If Ted doesn’t know, and Al isn’t around, and Nancy knows nothing but Ted being her dad, then it shouldn’t matter.

But Ted’s mom can tell, too. She’s the controlling, interfering type that knew from the off that Karen had a rebellious background and never approved of her dating Ted. She always did the sly poking questions whilst Karen is pregnant, and as far as she’s concerned Nancy is without a doubt not related to her.

Nancy doesn’t care about her grandparents for a long time. But then Mike is born, and her grandma loves Mike, and she becomes very aware that her grandma does not like her. She doesn’t know why, but she shrugs it off. They don’t live in Hawkins, she only has to see them once or twice a year. It’s whatever.

Shortly after S4 (everyone lives, no one dies, vecna is gone) is the Fourth of July. Extended family coming over for the holiday. Nancys got some unresolved trauma and honestly anger issues from spring break, couple that with the anniversary effect for S3 playing on her, it’s safe to say she’s not in her best state of mind. Maybe it’s harder to put on the quiet and polite Nancy act she gives around grandparents, Maybe she starts fighting with Karen, or sneaking out late, or lashing out at seemingly random things.

Mike comes home, unfortunately being driven home by none other than Eddie Munson. Eddie, being the charmer he is (and much to Karen’s horror) introduces himself by full name to Teds mom. And oh my god the look on Teds moms face when she realises her grandson is best friends with his ‘sisters’ actual brother. Karen shoos the boys away quickly, and practically begs Teds mom to not say anything.

The grandparents need a place to sleep. The Wheelers don’t have a guest room, and since no one on Earth should be forced to endure Mike Wheelers bedroom, Nancys room is the designated “guest room” and Nancy sleeps in the basement or on the couch or in Hollys room. Anyways. Nancy realises entirely too late that she left her guns in her room and literally just has to pray that they’re in a good enough hiding spot until she can move them tomorrow morning. They’re not.

Anyways next morning, Nancys new attitude + the gun she found + Eddie being the way he is, Teds mom is convinced Nancy is going down a bad path. Karen scoffs at this, but Teds mom keeps pushing, and it ends up breaking out into a full blown fight, Teds mom says would it surprise you? With who her father is, and evidently, who her brother is? That kid is a Munson through and through.

Karen did not know Nancy was home. And that is how Nancy finds out she is not actually a Wheeler. the end thank you for reading my bedtime story.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[irenewsky]

Anime I watched in 2023 (Part 2)

If you came here from the part 1, I thank you and I appreciate you. Now, this part of the list will include some shows I wanted highlight and some extras. Okay, that's it. Let's go!

Some of my older lists:

My favourite animes (Old. Tells of my tastes back in, like, 2018-2020 or something. Updated list coming once I get around to it)

Feel good anime Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Blue Lock

Yoichi Isagi is a member of his high school’s soccer team and during one of their important games, he makes a decision that costs their team a chance of going to the nationals. Bitter and disappointed, Isagi returns home only to find a letter from the Japan Football Union waiting for him. He has been chosen to be a candidate for a new projects called ”Blue Lock”. The competition is tough and ruthless. Who will make it through to the end?

24 episodes - sports

Everyone and their mother watched this one for sure. I might hate irl soccer due to finding it extremely boring (sorry irl soccer fans), but this one I really liked due to it making the sport actually interesting for me. I gotta also say that I found their eyes kinda unsettling when they entered their ”monster modes” (I can not say that with a straight face lol) but other than that, the animation was quite good.

Moriarty the Patriot

In the late 19th century Britain, William James Moriarty and his accomplices with nobles’ blood on their hands work together on a grand plan to bring down the system that favours aristocracy. A mathematician by day and a crime consultant by night, William James Moriarty is about to meet his match - one gentleman called Sherlock Holmes.

24 episodes and 2 OVAs - drama, thriller, mystery

Love me some more victorian era Sherlock Holmes shenanigans. I was so late to this one but it was still so worth the watch (and the read. The manga is just *chef’s kiss*)

*Mastermind by Taylor Swift playing in the distance* Honestly, imagine meeting you soulmate (platonic or otherwise) and them being on the completely other side of law from you. The drama of it all. (Yes, I’m very normal about these two)

Dr. Stone (Season 3 + Nanami Ryuusui Extra)

Over 3700 years ago, a mysterious beam of light enveloped every human into a layer of stone. To stay conscious, Ishigami Senku started to count seconds from the moment he was petrified. When he manages to break free from the stone in the spring of the year 5738, the human civilisation as he knew it had already disappeared. What will happen from now on? What will happen to rest of the petrified people? Are there others who have depetrified?

3 seasons + Nanami Ryuusui extra - action, adventure, comedy, drama, sci-fi, shonen

You will find this anime/manga on my updated favourites list, I’m warning you in advance.

I love, love, love this anime so much. It follows the manga so well and yes, I do recommend the manga for anyone interested. It’s really, really good and didn’t let me down unlike some others have. Also, it’s so refreshing to have a main character who is actively very much uninterested in sex and romance. How aro and ace of him (personal headcanon, no need to fight me for it)

BRB gonna go make myself a Gen Asagiri cosplay. My favourite scheming gremlin.

Tomo-chan Is a Girl!

Tomo is a high school girl with a crush on her long time bestfriend, a boy named Junichiro. She tries to confess to him but unfortunately she has been placed into the friendzone from where it seems almost impossible to escape from. With Tomo being very tomboyish and physically strong, it’s just hard for Junichiro to see her as a girl. Will she get out of the friendzone? Maybe she should get some help from her other friends…

13 episodes - romance, comedy

I didn’t think I would like it as much as I did. ’Childhood bestfriends to lovers’ trope with a healthy sprinkling of pining, chaos and ridiculousness. Delicious.

Romantic Killer

Anzu, a high school girl obsessed with video games, cats and chocolate and fully uninterested in romance, gets assigned a wizard that is going to do everything in their power to create the perfect love life for her. Anzu, however, is having none of it. Game on, you stupid wizard!

12 episodes - comedy, romace, supernatural

I kind of have a lot to say about this one, so buckle up. As an aroace person (who also, coincidentally, loves cats, chocolate and video games) I found the premise a bit annoying at first. I do love, well, love, but it pissed me off that romance was treated as an ”end all, be all” kind of thing and everything else as irrelevant rubbish. Trying to force someone into a relationship via magical means felt wrong. You could say I’m reading too much into this and yes, maybe I am, seeing as the premise was a ”to counteract the low birth rates” gag, but I’m also entitled to my own opinion and critiquing hetero- and amatonormativity.

Regardless, I ended up actually quite liking the anime as it progressed. The backstories for the characters were interesting and I found myself really loving Anzu’s headstrong personality. She doesn’t let the wizard push her around and stands her ground quite often. I really appreciated that. Also the humour in the show did make me laugh quite often, which is always a plus. That being said, I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to whack the wizard around the ears. Annoying little thing, that one is.

Sasaki and Miyano

Yoshikazu Miyano, the schools resident BL loving student, meets his senpai named Shuumei Sasaki after he saves Miyano’s classmate from being bullied. This chance encounter and Miyano accidentally revealing his interest towards BL bring the two together and from that day onwards Sasaki is stuck to him like glue.

13 episodes and an OVA - Romance (BL), drama

My VPN worked its ass off when I read this manga on some shady ass website lmao. I just had to know what happens after the point where the anime ends.

Very sweet. Do recommend.

The Yakuza’s Guide to Babysitting

Kirishima Toru works for the Sakuragi family. One day the head of the yakuza crime family summons him and tasks him with the duty of taking care of his daughter, Yaeka. How will this ”demon of Sakuragi” handle his new responsibility of watching over her?

12 episodes - comedy

This filled the hole in my heart that Spy x Family ending left at the time. Really heartwarming and I loved the bonds the characters in this show had.

The Salaryman’s Club

Shiratori Mikoto is really good at badminton. That is until an incident in the Interhigh leaves him unable to play how he wants to. Things start to change when he gets a job at Sunlight Beverages and joins their weak and amateurish badminton team.

12 episodes - sports

I saw no one talk about this??? Anyway, I liked this one. A lot. There might a little bias on my side since I actually practiced badminton when I was younger, but I think I would have liked this regardless! The characters had nice dynamics and liked the aspect of ’salarymen by day, badminton players by night’. Have you even lived if you haven’t experienced the highs and lows of corporate world badminton?

And finally, we have a few honorable mentions without descriptions, only vibes and opinions:

Latest season of Tokyo Revengers (Chifuyu truly is the bestest of boys, the homiest of homies. I also read the manga in its entirety. That one I have… a lot of opinions about, not all of them good)

Our Dating Story: the Experienced You and the Inexperienced Me (this one was just okay for me. I actually don’t know if I ever finished it… Well, I’m gonna have to accept the fact that I’m just not someone who enjoys the ’established relationship’ trope…)

Trigun Stampede (I’m not usually scifi kind of person but this one I really enjoyed!)

Komi Can’t Communicate (Not much to say about this one. It was very nice and I particularly liked the way Tadano almost seemed like he was able to read minds hahaha)

The latest season of Demon Slayer (Honestly, a little disappointed. It felt simultaniously very slow and very fast. Also, kinda boring compared to the last arcs. Still decent tho)

Spy x Family (Ah, Spy Family, my beloved. I liked this one a lot)

Chainsaw Man (Gotta admit, I was a little traumatized by the episode 7. I have never wanted to crawl out of my own skin more while watching anime, than I did while watching that episode. The skipping and pausing I had to do with that one… Damn. Other than that one episode, I liked this one enough to finish it)

My Dress-Up Darling (mixed feelings about this one. I just wanted a nice anime about cosplay and sewing and ended up getting fanservice and sexualization of minors. I’m in my mid to late 20s, I don’t need that shit. Just feels weird and wrong. I did finish it, albeit I did skip all the fanservicey scenes)

[familyvideostevie]

Hi there! I hope you’re having a good weekend :) Could I possibly request something where Dustin drags Eddie to watch the school musical to support his friend and as soon as Eddie hears her sing he falls hard for her?

hi! this was just really cute so i had to try it, hope you like! <3 i've only seen oklahoma once and i was like, 12, so i had to google the plot, my apologies for any mistakes there| 1.5k, fluff, fem!reader

"Why isn't there a musical called Indiana?" Eddie complains. "Why is --" he looks at the cover of the program in his hand -- "Oklahoma so important?"

"If you're going to keep asking stupid questions I think you should wait in the van." Dustin sinks low in the high school auditorium seat. "Don't embarrass me."

Eddie pats Dustin on the head and the boy scowls. "For like, two hours? Nah. I wouldn't even be able to smoke since I'm your ride, Henderson. Gotta be responsible." Eddie would never drive high, plus he promised Dustin's mom to get him home in one piece and man, that lady makes good lemon bars. "Might as well see what all the fuss is about."

"It's like, inter-club relations, Eddie. We use the drama room all the time for Hellfire so it's a good thing we're here!" Dustin sounds very impressed with his own reasoning. He'd asked Eddie to come with him to see the school musical and after spring break Eddie isn't in the habit of denying his young friend much. Even this.

"Oh, so we're not here because you have a crush on the leading lady who also happens to be your old babysitter?" Eddie jokes. But honestly, Dustin is right. The theater club is nice enough to let a group of punks play a board game even through the musical going on, which he never really thought about before. And though he doesn't really know any of the theater kids, but he respects them. It's tough to do something you really love in high school, a place where earnestness is ridiculed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dustin huffs, his cheeks a gentle pink. Eddie shifts in his seat as the lights start to go down -- the auditorium isn't too crowded and he wonders if he's going to fall asleep.

But that feeling lasts only a few minutes because then he sees you. You're in a pale blue dress that's probably meant to be old-timey or something, Eddie doesn't know, but he can't look away. You're pretty, that's clear, but you're also magnetic.

"Is that her?" he whispers to Dustin, who nods before putting his finger to his lips to tell Eddie to be quiet. And then you start to sing. And he'll deny it for the rest of his days, but he swears the world stops and it's just you and him in the dingy Hawkins High auditorium. It's not metal, it's not rock, it's nothing Wayne plays in the trailer, nothing he remembers his mom singing to him when he was a kid. But something about the gentle melody worms its way into his bones and he feels like he's floating. Is this love at first sight?

The musical goes by and Eddie only kind of registers the plot -- bad boy versus good boy, a lot of town politics, maybe some of it too familiar -- but he doesn't take his eyes off of you whenever you're on stage. Which, as the lead role, is a lot. When you sing your ballad he thinks he's blushing. He's blushing. He doesn't even know you!

So when the show ends and the cast comes out to take bows Eddie leaps to his feat, clapping and whistling when you cast your smile over the crowd. Is he imagining that you pause on him and Dustin for a second longer than anyone else?

"Dude," Dustin says, wacking Eddie's leather-clad shoulder. "I think you're drooling." The auditorium empties out and Dustin starts to walk away with a huff. Eddie swipes his hand across his face just in case (he's not drooling).

"Wait, what do we do now?" he calls after his friend. "Is that it?" There's a crowd of people milling around in the hallway, some holding flowers and other small gifts. He wonders if you have a boyfriend who is here somewhere.

"We can wait, if you want. The cast will come out soon." Dustin strokes his chin like a supervillain as he says it, looking far too smug for his own good. Eddie frowns.

"Spit it out, Henderson," Eddie says, leaning on a row of lockers. No one seems to think twice about him being there to watch a show about a town pariah who does some bad shit and dies for it. But he can't think too much about that. Not when he's thinking about you.

"Nope!" he says, throwing his hands in the air. "Nothing to say." Eddie rolls his eyes and looks back at the program and the cast list, running his finger over your name. He wonders if you've had class together and he just didn't know it since he never went. God, there's no way you don't know who he is. And you're probably scared of him, just like everyone else. This is a bad idea.

"Henderson--" he starts to say, pushing off of the lockers to head for the door. But then another voice stops him.

"Dustin!" It's you. After listening to you talk and sing in a faux-southern accent for two hours he's a little shocked to hear your regular tone but it warms him all the way through just as strong. Eddie takes a second just to look at you as you hug the younger boy. You've still got your stage make-up on but you're in jeans and a drama club shirt and he thinks you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

"I thought I saw you in the audience," you grin, sending Dustin a wink that has him blushing. Eddie finds the wherewithal to give you a little wave.

"You were great," he says earnestly. "Honestly. Never heard a voice like that, I swear." He rubs the back of his neck for a second before going for it. "I'm Eddie --"

"Munson," you finish, going in for a quick hug. He's too surprised to react and when you pull back you look a little shy. "Sorry," you grimace. "Post-show adrenaline has me hugging everyone."

"S'okay," Eddie breathes out. You smell like hairspray and sweat and he wants to look at you forever. "You know me?"

"Hard not to," you say before you think about it. Your eyes widen as you realize what you said and Eddie tries not to flinch. "You look after my favorite kid!" you blurt out. "And I'm the one who picks up the drama room before Hellfire."

"You should come by sometime," Dustin chirps. "Stay for a session." You smile a little and tuck your hands in your back pockets. Eddie wants to touch you so badly he copies the movement so he can't reach for you.

"Didn't know you were the boss, Dusty," you reply, eyeing Eddie. "I wouldn't want to interrupt--"

"We meet on Fridays," Eddie says. "Which you uh, know. Since you set up for us." Shit. C'mon, Munson, he thinks. But you just smile at him.

"We've got the cast party tomorrow but I could come next week?" There are other people waiting behind him to talk to you, he's sure of it, but your attention never wanders.

"That would be cool," he says. "You know where to find us." He can't believe this is happening. He doesn't even want to play D&D with you -- he wants to make you smile, he wants to drive you around and find out if you've ever listened to metal, he wants to run his hands through your hair.

"You were really great," he repeats. He is feeling greedy, wanting every moment he can with you before he steps back into his real life.

"Dude, you already said that," Dustin mutters. You laugh and god, Eddie has to hear that sound again.

"Thank you," you say earnestly, a hand coming out of your pocket to gently cup his bicep. "See you at school, yeah?"

"You can count on that," Eddie replies. He means it. He'll go to every class from now on for the chance to talk to you. You wave goodbye and wander to the next group of people waiting to talk to you.

"Dude," Dustin says once the pair are in the parking lot. "That was embarrassing."

"I know," Eddie grins. He can't stop smiling. His arm burns where you touched him. "Thanks for being my wingman."

"Your wingman?" Dustin scoffs. "I invited her to Hellfire for me." But the grin he's hiding says differently. Eddie just rolls his eyes.

"We'll see, Henderson. I'm gonna get that girl to fall in love with me."

(He'll tell you this story in a few months' time when you're watching him tune his guitar on his bed. How he felt the world shift when you sang. How the first time you came to Hellfire he kept messing up because he couldn't stop looking at you. How he tried so hard to listen to more musicals on tape but hated them all. How it took the entirety of the movie you saw on your first date for him to work up the courage to hold your hand. How he called Dustin after you kissed for the first time. How he's pretty sure he fell in love with you immediately.)

tags: @ruinedbythehobbit @superflannel @eddiussy @greenclues @sunlitide @gloryofroses19 @carpediem1219 @themarvelousbee @sunshinehollandd @katsukis1wife @imherefortea @spideyboipete @lonelywidow @louderfortheback @actual-mom-steve-harrington @ducky-is-dead-inside @manyfandomsfanvergent @ih3artcry1ng @escape-in-time-x

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reblog, send feedback, requests open, masterlist here!

[captinsteveharrington]

Beards: The Things Steve would do for Robin

Okay, so Robin is gay, clearly. She also madly in love with Nancy.

Steve is Bi, and infatuated with Eddie, right?

So, what if Robin and Steve get married. After Rob and Eddie graduate.

Eddie moves the hell out of Hawkins, he gets a job at a mechanic shop or record store. He still plays in his band. Wayne supports him and Steve’s romance. They’ve been DL dating since spring break. They’re like really in love, probably faster then it should have happened, but it just makes sense.

On the same note, Rob and Nance have been dating since Spring Break. Robin has always had a thing for Nancy bc she’s beautiful and smart and a total badass. It works. They work.

Robins parents don’t approve of her going to school outside of Hawkins but they don’t know what really goes down in Hawkins. She NEEDS to get out.

Steve offers her an out. They’re best friends, soulmates even, he says let’s get married. I date Eddie you date Nance. We work at shit jobs and you go to school. No one has to know the truth and we can all be safe.

The four of them are truly happy. They see the kids every other weekend up until the kids graduate, Rob and Steve have a court house wedding with Eddie and Nance as witnesses. They get a little apartment and they move in together, eventually the kids move around the country and they finally leave Indianan.

I just love the idea of Robin and Steve Harrington, doing gay shit and having the world convinced they’re a traditional couple but at night they go home to their very queer partners and share this incredible monster-leas life together. Maybe they have a kid together (turkey baster style)? Dustin and Mike are the best uncles ever and eventually when American drinks it’s smart bitch juice Steve and Rob get divorced and Nance and Rob get married, Steve and Eddie get married. Nance takes Buckley-Harrington and Steve takes Munson, becoming Mr Steve Harrington-Munson and they raise their baby as a quad and they grow old like that.

Steve is, Dad

Eddie is, Pops

Nancy is, Ma

Robin is, Mama

They deserve this!

[forlornmelody]

Outlaws Chapter 3 – Teenagers

Rating: E (language, graphic violence. Smut in other chapters.)

Fandom: Titans (2018)

Ship: Jayrose, Jayroy, Rose/Artemis, Poisonquinn, Bella Garten/Pamela Isley

AO3 Links: First Chapter. // This Chapter.

Summary:  Poison Ivy has agreed to help with the search for her copycat killer. Or is it a copycat?

Notes: Chapter title comes from the My Chemical Romance song of the same name.

----

“Where’s my cash?” She wraps her arms around her bare middle. Walking the streets and the alleys in these clothes is a lot easier in a Gotham summer. By now the trees have all but turned, and there’s frost whispering in the air. 

“It’s comin’, sweets. Things are just a little tight right now.” He’s plenty warm in his leather coat and silk scarf. And his beemer probably has seat warmers. If she plays it right, she might get to hitch a ride home. Well, part of the way home. She’d be a fucking idiot if she told this john where she lived.

“You promised me you’d have it by today.” Strangely, the plant behind them doesn’t seem to acknowledge the change of the seasons. It’s as green as spring, if not greener. It almost seems to glow. 

“Shit happens. You know I’m always good for it.”

“I need to pay my rent, Danny.”

“And Danny says you need to shut your fucking mouth before he breaks those pretty little teeth.” He wraps his big hands around her neck, lifting her off the ground. 

“Danny! I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry,” she starts to plead.

“Maybe Danny needs to teach you a lesson, bitch.”

The vines of the plant stir from their other prey, stretching out like spider silk.

“Danny, I–” she screams as Danny’s feet are snatched from beneath him. They envelop him like a net and then they squeeze until Danny’s screams stop.

—

“You cannot be serious.” Barbara fixes him a stare before rummaging through her desk drawer. Where’s that scotch when she needs it?

“She makes a point.” Jason shrugs.

“She’s terrorized Gotham multiple times.”

“And she’s more likely to know who the copycat is.”

“If it’s a copycat.”

Jason leans against the desk. Barbara is half-convinced he’s drunk already at 10 am. Tim told Dick as much after his crash course. Can she blame him, though? It’s a miracle the kid’s alive after all this. “You got any other leads, Babs?”

Scratch scotch. She needs something stronger. “I’m telling you Jason, something’s off. Ivy can’t be trusted.”

“I know.” Jason smiles softly. “I know her better than anyone on your team. She’s my baddie, remember?”

Barbara snorts. “You’re an ex-con yourself.”

“Exactly. I know how these guys–er–gals, think. I’ve got it handled, Babs.”

She sucks on her teeth, already feeling a familiar tension in her shoulders spreading to her neck and the back of her head. “Giving Dick free reign with Crane is exactly what got you into that mess.” 

Jason flinches, just for a split second before he recovers. But the damage is done. 

“Jason–”

“I’m not Dick.” And there he is. The terrified teenager that Bruce picked up off the street, still trying to look braver than he feels. 

Barbara should say no. But it’s impossible to say no to family, isn’t it? “Fine.” Doesn’t make her hate herself any less, though.

The tension eases from Jason’s shoulders, and he sways ever so slightly before he catches himself. “Thanks, Barbara.”

“Don’t.” She wheels herself away from her desk. “This conversation never happened.”

“Never does.”

—

When Babs and Jason get to the van, the rest of the team is already there. Jason moves to get in the backseat, but the driver stops him. “Sorry. The inmate’s gonna go in the back. Arkham rules.”

Jason eyes the rest of the van while Babs maneuvers into the shotgun seat. He folds and hands over her wheelchair without a second thought. And then he sinks inside. There’s only one seat available if Pamela and her two guards are taking the backseat. And it’s next to Deathstroke’s kids. Donna meets Jason’s eyes and winks at him. Winks. Muttering under his breath, Jason settles in next to Rose, who doesn’t even seem to register that he’s there. In fact, she can’t even keep herself awake, despite the energy drink in her hand. The moment Jason buckles his seatbelt, she nods off, resting her head on her brother’s shoulder. Even though there’s at least two inches between them, Jason swears he can feel that familiar buzz of energy between them. Like sticking his finger in a socket. Fuck, this is going to be a long ride. 

“Is this really necessary?” Ivy shifts between a male and a female prison guard, flashing them her trademark smile.

“Standard procedure, Isely.” 

“But Gary, you know I’m harmless with this little accessory.” Arms bound; Ivy cranes her neck to draw attention to her inhibitor collar. 

“Rules are rules.”

“Stop flirting, Gary.”

“Just having some fun, Cheryl.” 

The guards drag Ivy to the backseat, and when her seat belt clicks into place, Ivy leans forward. “You mind?” Inexplicably, she has a tube of lipstick between her teeth. Roy shrugs and applies it to her lips with ease. Almost as if he’s done makeup before. Hm. Ivy eyes herself in the reflection of Artemis’s ax, smacking her lips with a pop. “Thank you.”

“Hey!” Babs snaps. “Give me that.” She holds out her hand until Roy and the rest pass her the stick of lipstick. 

Ivy rolls her eyes. “You know the lipstick itself isn’t toxic, right?”

“Just take us to the crime scene, Carl.”

“Yes ma’am.” The driver gives her an idle salute as the van rolls down the road. 

“You teamed up with Scarecrow!?” Ivy shrieks. The van swerves. Rose jerks awake, her arm bumping into Jason’s.

“Ivy–” Jason starts to say–

“Scarecrow!?” she says, louder this time. Before anyone can say anything, Ivy continues. “That motherfucking, narcissistic, patronizing asshole. You teamed up with him?” 

“Look, I know it was a mistake–”

She manages a sniffle. “I thought I was your favorite.” 

Jericho snorts. 

—

Jericho’s lost track of how many times he’s hit the bag. He’s barely keeping track of the Queen album blaring in the speakers. Right now, Freddie Mercury’s belting about his love for “Fat Bottom Girls,” and Jericho Wilson is trying to locate the same joy in Freddie’s voice. But all he feels at the moment is rage.

Five. Fucking. Years.

A throat clears behind him, and Jericho misses the bag completely. “Your right hook needs work.”

Jericho stops, staring at Adeline pointedly–the punching bag swaying back and forth across his face. “Do you want to talk, or watch me train? Because I can’t do both.”

“It’s been a while since we had a chat.” Adeline Kane sits down on the weight bench, placing a tray with a tea kettle and two cups on the nearby bench press. 

“What do you want?” Jericho grabs a towel, drying his face. T makes it easier to look in the mirror. But it also makes him sweat like mad. Worth it. 

“How are you feeling?” She says it sweetly, but her eyes are almost devoid of warmth. Something happened to her in those five years. Almost like she’s angry with him for dying. Like it’s his fault, and not his father’s.

His hands stop. Adeline doesn’t waste breath. Not anymore. “Takes some getting used to, I guess.”

“It’s a miracle you’re alive, you know.” Adeline pours them two cups, handing him one. “It’s not easy bringing a body out of cryostasis.”

Jericho blows on his tea, not sure where she’s going with this. “Considering all this family put me through? Yeah. A fucking miracle.”

“Language.” Ripe coming from the woman who has likely committed war crimes. 

“The words you use shouldn’t matter. It’s how you use them.”

Adeline sighs. “Just spit it out, Jericho.”

He quirks his head, holding up the cup. 

“You know what I mean.”

“Why did you lie to me about my dad?”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“Bullshit.”

“A son needs to love and respect his father.”

“You just didn't want me in the business!” Most would throw the teacup and shatter it, but even on his angriest days, Jericho prefers to avoid violence. So, he sets the cup, untouched, back on the tray, and storms out. 

—

“Have you slept?” The team medic, Doctor Maya Owens, checks the vitals of her least favorite patient. Her brow furrows skeptically as Rose yawns. 

“Nothing but, Doc.”

Dr. Owens eyes her through her glasses, pressing on Rose’s wrist for her pulse. “Have you slept well?”

Rose lifts her arm begrudgingly, so the medic can wrap the compression sleeve around it, as she considers the question. “Maybe?”

“Blood pressure’s low. How much caffeine have you had today?”

“Five cups. You think it would work better if I sweetened it with cocaine?”

“I think the cocaine would kill you.”

“You’re no fun.” 

“It’s not my job to be fun.” She sighs as she makes some notes in her chart. “Looks like you’re suffering from adrenal fatigue.”

“So, what drugs will you give me?”

Dr. Owens rubs her forehead with her thumb, swiveling her chair to face away from her. “Just lay off the caffeine and try to relax.”

Rose shifts her spinny chair in arcs from side to side. “Not my job to relax.”

“Well, my job is to keep you alive.”

She snorts. “I’m not easy to kill, remember?”

“Death comes for everyone eventually, Rose. Don’t go around tempting him, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

—

“Daddy!” A five-year-old girl beams at Roy from his computer screen. 

“Hi Lian,” Roy smiles back, his hand shaking just slightly beneath his desk, where she can’t see. Damn, she looks more and more like her mother every day. 

How fucking dare you, Roy Harper.

I have to do what’s best for her, Jade. 

Taking a girl away from her mother? 

I’m taking her away from both of us. Making sure she turns out nothing like us. 

“Daddy?” Lian’s eyebrows crease. “You went away again.”

“Sorry, Lian.” Roy swallows, plastering what he hopes is a brave smile on his face. “Daddy’s just tired.”

“I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you, too.” Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t– “Why don’t you show me what you made class today?”

Lian holds up a monstrosity of a construction paper creature, all clashing colors. “Look! He has five teeth!” She holds up five fingers, beaming. “I’m five, too!”

“Yes, Li. Yes, you are.”

Lian’s bedroom door opens, and an apologetic middle-aged woman gently puts a hand on her shoulder. “Sorry, Mr. Harper. But Lian’s got school in the morning.”

Roy glances at the clock. “Oh, sh–crap. Right. Sorry.”

Lian’s foster mom looks up at him. “Same time next week?”

Sooner? Roy wants to say, but he knows they’re busy. Knows he’s busy. “Yeah, that works great. Goodnight Lian. Be a good girl for me, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too, Daddy.”

—

Ah, finally. Donna’s tea has cooled enough to drink. She shouldn’t have caffeine this late at night, but the chai was calling to her. And these leads on Poison Ivy, or not Poison Ivy, as the villainess herself keeps insisting,  aren’t going to follow themselves, are they? Just a little pick me up at the ARGUS computer, and Donna will be all set to go. Just as she’s going to take her first coveted sip, Donna hears a knock at the door jamb behind her. The tea comes this close to spilling onto her lap, and it’s only her reflexes and training that land the mug right side up on the desk. 

“Yeah?” Donna calls out after she stops reeling. 

“Can I talk to you about Rose?” Artemis chews her lip. How very un-Artemis-like. 

“Shit. Did she set the kitchen on fire? Hack the computer again? Booby trap Jericho’s roo-” Artemis stops her with a hand on her shoulder, and Donna, out of habit, violently shrugs it off. She might have accepted the other Amazon as a teammate, but they sure as hell aren’t buddies. Not now, not ever.

“She hasn’t done anything wrong.” Artemis clears her throat. “That I’m aware of.” It might be the hum of the computer, but she swears she hears a crack in her voice. “This is more personal in nature.”

Donna finally turns in her chair, staring at Artemis. “You’re asking me for relationship advice?”

“Why not? You’ve had lovers before, have you not?” Artemis leans against the door frame, her head nearly bumping against the top.

“I mean, yeah, but–” Did a largely un-acted upon whirlwind romance with Garth count?

“Then you can help me.” Artemis leans on the desk, folding her arms. Donna imagines it’s supposed to look confident, if not intimidating but even with the other Amazon’s muscles, she can still see the slouch in her shoulders and the crease in her eyebrows. Now this was not a look she ever expected from Artemis of Bana Migdahl. 

“Eh–”

“How do I get Rose to–how do you say it– ”get serious” with me?”

Donna spits out her tea. “Rose? Wilson?” She sets her mug down, clearing her throat. “You’re kidding.”

Artemis, always completely centered in her gravity, shifts on her feet. “Is that one of your sayings or?”

“You know what she did to Jason, right?”

“She “fleeced” him for information, did she not?”

Donna snorts. “Mythology puns, really?”

Ah, there’s that trademark Artemis smirk. “We both know it’s not a myth.”

Donna rubs her temples. “Right. Okay. What I’m getting at is I don’t think Rose is…. all that romantic.”

“Oh.” Artemis deflates, damn her. 

“Wait, hold on. Does Artemis of Bana Mighdal want romance?”

Artemis levels her a familiar glare “Is that so surprising?”

“It’s just…. you never seemed to stick with one partner very…long.”

“Never mind.” Artemis turns to leave. Donna grabs her hand, stopping her short. She looks up at her, all that fury and resentment of all their years pitted against each other still burning in her eyes. “What?”

“Have you thought about talking to her?”

Artemis doesn’t answer–-she just slips into the hall, letting the door close behind her.

—

The van pulls up to a drainpipe, teeming with greenery. Long, white, and spidery vines crawl over every plant in sight, trapping them like a net. One net contains a distinctly human shape. 

“Oh god.” Donna covers her nose, turning a bit green about the edges. 

Barbara must have completely lost her sense of smell by now. “Fresh crime scene. Have at it.” She waves in the body’s general direction as Jason puts her wheelchair on the ground.

They fan out, and Ivy clears her throat. Jason meets Barbara’s eyes, and her lips press into a thin line. “I better not regret this.”

“Best behavior, Ivy,” Jason murmurs, as he presses the deactivator on her power-dampening collar. 

“Always.” Ivy winks, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. 

She steps forward, turning back to look at them. “Hurry up, would you? I don’t have all n–” Ivy chokes on her next word, and then she doubles over. 

“Is she–?”

And then Ivy screams. She doubles over, falling to her knees. Gasping for air, she chokes out, “I should have had more time.” Her skin pales and glimmers with sweat as she shakes. 

“Ivy?” Jason frowns steps toward her. “You okay?”

Ivy sways as she stands up directly in front of him. The plants around her writhe as she spits out. “Your seas are rising, and your forests are on fire. What is the fucking point of this? As far as I’m concerned, you’re running out of ground to stand on, Robin.” Rose pulls out her swords, Artemis her ax. Roy reaches for his quiver. Even Donna readies her lasso. 

Jason swallows. “I’m not Robin anymore.” 

“Then why are you still acting like a fucking bat?” She glares at Barbara as she gasps for air. “Why are you still running around with pigs like her?”

Jericho steps forward, his eyes losing their color. Roy stops him with a hand. 

“Ivy. I know you’re in a lot of pain. And you’re angry. As you should be.” Jason holds up both hands, his guns still in their holsters. “But right now, I need you to breathe.” He counts to four with one hand, breathing in slowly, holding it for another four, and letting it out at the same count, and holding it for another. 

Ivy’s eyes lose their glow, and the plants around her settle. “Who taught you box breathing?”

Rose looks at Jason, but he avoids her eyes. “Did you see anything we could use to find who murdered those people?”

Ivy turns back to the glowing cuscata, feeding on the basil. She shakes her head, stepping toward it. “One moment,” she says shakily. Stretching out her hand, Ivy says softly, “Hello, little one.

“She talks to them?” Donna whispers to Roy. 

He shrugs. “Don’t ask me. I’m not her bestie like Jason is.”

“Ow.”

“Something wrong?”

Ivy sucks the wound on her thumb, furrowing her brow. “I’m not sure.” 

“Aren’t plants supposed to be your thing?” Rose folds her arms.

“It’s like she doesn’t recognize me,” Ivy mutters, and then jerks her head in their direction. “HEY. They’re not just my thing! I am an agent of the Green–”

The amarbel shivers.

“That isn’t funny. I’m not being funny.” Ivy turns back to the parasitic plant. “What do you mean I’ve been here before?”

Jason’s eyes widen. 

“No, I haven’t.” 

Jericho looks at him. Had Ivy told them the truth or not? Was the former Robin’s faith in her misplaced?

“FINE. Show me who you saw here this morning.”

The amarbel unfurls from its meal, twisting and turning until it takes the shape of a woman, roughly Ivy’s height. She fumes, her fists white knuckled at her sides. “I already told you. It wasn’t me!”

“You gotta admit, Ivy. The resemblance is uncanny.” Roy murmurs softly.

Jason steps forward, stopping at her side. “What’s that on her head?”

That stops Ivy short, as if she’s truly taking in the form of it for the first time. “It’s a crown.”

[ecoamerica]

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