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bleuside97 · 7 months

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That Night Was Different

paring: richclubowner!Jungkook x lonely reader

genre: one night stand au smut

summary: looking for excitement you unexpectedly found someone who gave you everything you had wished for.

warnings: smut, n*pple play, coochie eating, praising kink.

This month was no doubt one of the most difficult for you. You maintained a stable position in retail that provided you with a satisfactory income, just enough for taking care of your bills. Unfortunately, it was announced to you that due to some financial struggles, the company had to let some employees go, including you. As a strong and resilient woman, however, you refused to give up and started looking for other jobs. But no luck seemed to be on your side, and to make matters worse, your landlord raised the rent. So, overwhelmed by all the stress, you decided to head to a young upscale club called "Dionysus." in Central Seoul, South Korea. To have some drinks to forget all your worries for a while. You've been coming here everyday for a month. The same night every night.

On a cold Saturday night you were sitting alone at the bar. "Alone yet again." Y/n muttered under her breath to herself. Being an introvert for so long has had its benefits but right now you were met with the down sides. In such an uplifted environment you couldn't help but feel drained. You didn't know why but you suddenly didn't want to be there anymore. Your eyes advert to the sixth shot glass you ordered and just been placed in front of you. For a moment you only stare at the alcohol. "You'll be the death of me." You say before gulping the bitter substance down your throat. It burns your esophagus and makes a quick disgusted face before slamming it down on the rough wooden table.

Your eyes gleam with wonder as you observe the recently developed nightclub. With its large dance floor shining brightly in neon lights and illuminated by spotlights and a shimmering disco ball, the atmosphere practically oozes excitement. All around, drunken and flushed bodies move along to the beat of the thumping music; jumping and swaying in a joyous and carefree manner. You can't help but smile along with them. The vibrant, pounding sound resonates within your body, making your heart beat faster. You don't know what it is, but a sudden urge compels you to take a leap of faith and join the others on the dance floor, letting the infectious music guide your body.

The rhythm of the song shifted into a captivating, slow melody. Deliberately, you began to move with a seductive grace, allowing your hips and legs to sway freely, independent of any outside influence. Your arms glided slowly down your body, accentuating every curve. Suddenly, you could feel the presence of another body behind you. His hands lightly gripped your waist, subtly indicating his presence without interrupting your movements. In perfect synchronization, his hips matched your pace, creating an unspoken harmony. Your gaze was drawn to his muscular arms, belonging to a handsome man with an olive complexion. He pulled you closer, intensifying the connection, inviting you to feel his undeniable presence. Maintaining a steady rhythm, you bit your lip, longing for increased tension. His hands on your hips guided you as he turned you to face him.

It was like a fantasy come to life, as you gazed upon this breathtaking man. With long, black locks framing his chiseled features and captivating doe-shaped eyes, he exuded an aura of charm and allure. His tight-fitting shirt showcased his sculpted chest, the muscles beneath emphasizing his strength. Utterly captivated by him, you were unable to look away. Sensing your reaction, he smirked, radiating confidence. His right hand glided from your hip, up along your side, until it reached the nape of your neck, holding you gently but with purpose. Leaning close, he whispered in your ear, "Come with me to my table."

Before you can even consider, your involuntary movements had agreed for you. You nodded your head, following closely behind him amidst the sweltering crowd of flushed bodies on the dance floor. The sensation of being amidst the flurry of the dance floor was something you had suddenly yearned for. The anticipation of what the night would bring fueled your excitement. A magnificent gold and velvet stanchion rope stood as a barrier at the entrance of the elevated section. Swiftly, the security personnel removed the rope, granting you both access. As you stepped into the new setting, you felt a sense of liberation. The section was occupied by individuals most likely of a similar age. Their closed and self-assured expressions hinted at their elevated status. You felt out of place amidst them. Jungkook found an unoccupied seat on the lounge chair and graciously offered it to you. In a relaxed posture, he placed one arm on the headrest of the couch while the other remained nestled in the space between his spread legs.

You settled down beside him, avoiding eye contact. In fact, you instinctively stiffened your posture on the couch as you sensed his piercing gaze. There was a slight eerie silence between you. "May I get you a drink, my dear?" he smoothly inquired, his gaze filled with thoughtfulness. "Pleasure meeting you I'm Jeon Jungkook." He removes his hand from between his hand and offers it to you. You take it. "Y/n." You say with a charming smile. "Y/n..." He holds your hand and kisses the back of your hand. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman." The intensity in his eyes was undeniable. "I see something exceptional in you," he replied in a suave, charismatic tone. "To the extent that I believe you are the most stunning being I have laid eyes on in a considerable time." "Don't I feel like a rare gem amongst the ordinary?" you chuckled, amused by your own remark. "How do you justify deeming me special?" He smirked and playfully winked at you. "You are more than just a rare gem, my dear. You are the brightest star illuminating the entire night sky; your radiance is so captivating that it becomes impossible to look away. You are a true masterpiece."

Unimpressed you chucked, "Is this how you're gonna win me over?" Y/n scoffed shaking his head at the lame small talk. He smiles confidently in response. "I'm going to treat you to every wish of yours and to everything you could ever want. I want to show you the time of your life." He gives you another confident smirk. So you're a genie?" You sarcastically asked.

He chuckles confidently, not deterred by your sarcastic tone. "If I am, what wish would you make if I could grant it?" He asks as he leans forward slightly, his eyes twinkling with interest. She backs up a bit at his closer contact but remains quiet. "Oh come on, love," he says mischievously, giving your arm a squeeze. "Let me win you over." He smiles at you. "I know you like me already. So let me prove to you that I'm serious." "Oh. Such rumors don't exist." You turn looking away. He chuckles. "Oh you don't?" Jungkook asks with a sly smirk. "I know you're playing hard to get." His demeanor becomes confident once more. "You're playing this little game of cat and mouse as if I don't know exactly what you're trying to do." He gives you a playful wink to show that he knows you're playing along with him. "Let me be your man i know I can treat you like a princess. Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you." She gets up all close and personal to his beautiful face, "You know what I want." He looks at her with a mystery to her answer. "A night where I can have blissful fun and forget about my life, just for one night. I wish for the best night of my life."

He looked at her with a sad expression for a moment, a pause before answering. "I've been watching you for a while, y/n, I watch you come into my club every night for the past month. At the same time every night. I don't want you alone in your hard times." You stopped talking and just listened to him. He twists lip ring before continuing, "I'll give you an offer." You immediately shake your head. "Oh I'm not like that. No Thank you, sir."

You get up to leave but he pulls you back down. "Before I can tell you, Let me give me your wish, y/n." Y/n thinks for a moment. Wondering if this is the right thing to do? Who knows what she is getting herself into. Jungkook smirks at the kiss that you place on his hand. "I told you I'd make you feel something," he purrs. "This is just the beginning, love; I plan to show you many nights like these." He gives you a flirtatious wink and holds you closely against him. "Follow me," he says as he leans in close before pulling away. He motions with his hands to follow him and begins to walk out the door, motioning for you to follow him with his hand. Jungkook leads you from the bar and into what appears to be a private suit in his club guarded by security his best men. Before coming to a halt. The security grants him and you access. He unlocks the door with a key. Opening it to a grand suite. You are awfully impressed. "Close your eyes," he commands. "Trust me. You'll love what I have in store for you."

You close your eyes with hands unsure of this was safe. He doesn't waste time before he's kissing you sensually, licking your bottom lip asking for entrance. You open your mouth his tongue swirls around yours and fights for dominance as you let him have it. Spending some time making out, getting to know each other with your mouths he begins to kiss down your neck leaving open mouth kisses down your neck behind your ears occasionally nipping at it. He rips your dress and your bra and attacks your left boob. Sucking on your nipple and palming the other one in his other hand. “Hmm? You like this don't you?" His tongue begins to swirl around the nipple. You bite your lip and you have to force your eyes to look at the ceiling. Jungkook’s inked hand reaches down your lower back. His subtle touches leave a trail of shivers, until his pads brush over the slope of your ass. He squeezes your cheek, firm fingers kneading into your skin.

Leaving you breathless Jungkook's hand graze the sides of your body. As you continue kissing, Jungkook’s hands creep bare body up your thighs until your panties are revealed. His hands press further toward your inner thighs, and you gasp into the kiss when his thumb pushes against the seat of your underwear.They have been damp for a while now and you know he knows this, so you aren’t surprised when he breaks the kiss to smirk. With hon many times you see him smirk tonight it makes you want to punch him. "All for me?" He chuckles before removing your panties. He pushes you to the nearest wall and begins playing with your pussy. He spreads your wetness with his finger. Your hand on Jungkook's shoulder squeezing it when he brushes past your clit. His finger dwells there, putting pressure on your swollen clit. Then Jungkook’s hand is reaching for you again. He brushes a finger over your hole, and your body twitches from the sensitivity. He slides that finger through the wetness and then uses the lubrication to push only the tip of his finger in. he dips it in and out, teasing the nerves at your entrance. Your hips impulsively start to rock, a shaky whimper rolls past your mouth.

Then quickly transitions to his tongue is on your pussy. Using both his spread your cheeks open for better access. His tongue dives between your folds, inciting breathless whimpers from you. His head nudges your entrance. You inhale sharply ready for him inside you. He pulls out his cock out of pants and sdjust the tip to your entrance. Brushing the tip against your quivering hole. Jungkook pushes his cock inside "You can take it.” Jungkook’s hand finds your tit, firmly palming the smooth flesh. “You’re gonna take my cock like the good girl you are, right?” You only cry out in pleasure. He continues to thrusts deeply in you. “Damn, you feel so fucking amazing,” he grunts, a harshness surrounds his tone. Jungkook loses himself. He finds his rhythm and thrusts inside your pussy with sharp motions. “So fucking pretty.” A hand travels over your ass to your spine and back. “The prettiest girl,” he rasps. A smack on your butt was given. The pain leaving your walls clenching around his thick cock. He grops your breasts as you both reach your climax. Collapsing in your shoulder. He whimpers in your ear.

a/n: alot of mistakes and im not sure if i like it too much so i will be editing it alot tmrw but enjoy fkr now

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lesbianspeedy · 2 years

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Someone Lied To You About Oliver Queen/Green Arrow

Or, maybe you watched a certain show he starred in. Or maybe you’ve only read his stuff post-n52. Hell, maybe you just assumed, that’s okay too, either way, one thing is for sure, Oliver Queen Isn’t Rich. In fact, he’s usually broke as hell and struggling to pay rent!

(Massive Thank You to @batphobique and @queen-lance for making this post helping me find/source all these panels! Literally wouldn’t have even half of these without their help)

Green Lantern (1960) #87

The original version of the character, practically a Batman clone, was rich, yes. Until in Justice League of America (1960) #75, the late and great Dennis O’Neil reworked his entire character, transforming him into a modern day Robin Hood, and, in aid of this transformation, had him lose all his money after a business rival frames him for embezzlement.

Justice League of America (1960) #75, Action Comics #636, Secret Origins (1986) #38

After that, and the cross-country roadtrip thereafter, Ollie struggled to find work, having a dwindling savings account, and barely scraping enough to make rent. He found occassional work as a columnist, and was for a time working as a public relations agent, though this didn’t end his money problems.

Green Lantern/Green Arrow #6, Action Comics #431 & #424, Green Lantern (1960) #100

This was all during the golden age for Green Arrow, when he was most active on the League, and during the beginning of his relationship with Black Canary. Odds are, if its before the year 2000 and he’s wearing his Neal Adams suit, he’s flat broke.

Action Comics #431, JLA 80 Page Giant #1, World’s Finest #210

It’s important to note, too, that Ollie wasn’t trying to get his money back, he was okay with making do, and even when given the opportunity to have some spare cash, he would rather have it go to something he felt was more important.

Action Comics #424, Green Lantern (1960) #87

To the point that, in a later retcon by O’Neil, instead of losing his money due to a business rival, he instead willingly gave it all away to war relief funds after finding out his company was funding war efforts.

Legends of the DC Universe #9

Later down the line, in the late 80s, Ollie would move to Seattle with Dinah, eventually working with/for her as an assistant florist and delivery driver. With the business from the flower shop and a coincidental big bag of money Ollie kept in his closet they were able to make ends meet together.

Green Arrow: The Longbow Hunters #1, Green Arrow (1988) #13, Black Canary (1993) #1

And that’s about the state he stayed in, until his untimely death-cum-resurrection, wherein he’d inheret the stately home, money, and youth centre of an old man who put his name in his will (no spoilers here, go read Quiver).

He’d continue to use the money to run said centre until the New 52 Reboot, where he’d be reverted to a rich guy, losing and reclaiming and losing and reclaiming his wealth over and over as each writer adapted him to tell their (often unrelated to his character) story.

TLDR: Oliver Queen is not the rich guy you think he is, he’s usually a broke socialist. Please read a comic book before talking about a character...please...just one...

#Oliver Queen #Green Arrow #Ollie Queen #DC Comics #JLA #Justice League Of America #he ain’t bruce wayne folks #and he ain’t a hypocrite for hating rich people he is not rich people #my pathetic broke man #seriously though this would not be a post without val and juh i cannot overstate how much my little comrades did for this #arrowfam

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lillywhitefield · 4 months

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✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*New and Improved*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✧･ﾟ: *✧Lilly Whitefield's Fanfiction Masterlist✧*:･ﾟ✧

Bridgerton

Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington

Doja Cat Modern Songfic Series

Penelope Needs to Know - Explicit, Size Kink, Love Confession, 7/7, 25.6k words

Why Don't You Say So, Colin? - Mature, Masturbation, 2/2, 7.5k words

They've Been Feelin' Freaky Deaky - Explicit, One-Shot, Mirror Sex, 9.1k words

Polin Week 2023

Love Island and a Little Magic - Mature, Modern, Love Confession, 2k words

Rent is Due - Explicit, Modern, Roommates With Benefits, 1.6k words

A Pen Pal Called Pen (or, The Missing Letters) - General Audiences, Regency, Epistolary, 2k words

Never Turned You Off - Explicit, Modern, Flirting Help, Wall Sex, 2.1k words

Olive Like No Other - Teen, Modern, Olive Puns in Greece, 1.5k words

A Visit From Sir Richard - Explicit, Regency, Dildos, 3k words

when you and I collide - Teen, Modern, Intimacy, 1.2k words

Polin Month 2023, Ed Sheeran Edition

learning to speak - General Audiences, Modern, Meet-Cute, Speech Disorder, 2k words

a million more first times - General Audiences, Regency, Developing Friendship, 2.2k words

I see my future in your eyes - Explicit, Regency, Kitchen Sex, 3.4k words

this love won't ever go away - Explicit, Modern, Disney World with Children, 9k words

you will still love me the same - Explicit, Regency, Older Couple, A/B/O, 3.7k words

Polin Week 2024

it's hard to know which one of us is caving - Mature, Regency, Forced Proximity, Arguments, 3k words

linger - Mature, Regency, Lessons, Masturbation, dancing and flirting in Colin's bedroom, 2.2k words

Mr. Brightside - Teen, Fake Dating, Jealous Colin, why does everyone like Debling???, 3.6k words

i wish i was special - Teen, Epistolary, Colin's letters, sad boi hours, 2.6k words

maybe i just wanna be yours - Explicit, Height Difference, Colin goes through Pen's window to propose, 3k words

only fools rush in - Explicit, Soulmate AU, Meet-Cute, Sex under the stars, 5k words

your skin and bones - Explicit, Hopes for Season 3, Mirror Sex, Wedding Night, 2.7k words

Complete Multi-Chapter

A Poison Tree - Explicit, Regency, Forced Marriage/Proximity, Only One Bed, Rebuilding Relationships, 19/19, 145k words

Santa Baby - Explicit, Modern, Santa Kink, Lap Sitting, Pregnancy Sex, 3/3, 22k words

It Was a Graveyard Smash - Various Ratings, Halloween One-shots, 21/21, 35k words

Bloodlust - Explicit, Regency, Vampire AU, Blood Drinking, Check Tags and A/N for CW, 4/4, 22k words

Romancing Captain Bridgerton - Explicit, Regency, Mermaid AU, 21/21, 100k words

Summer Afternoons - Explicit, Regency, Coping with Heat, Semi-Public Smut, 4/4, 16k words

One-Shots

Falling for You - Explicit, Regency, Amnesia, Valentine's Day, Love Confessions, 11.2k words

Love in Bloom - Explicit, Regency, Sex Pollen, 5.2k words

you are impossible - Mature, Regency, Love Confession, 2k words

Switch It Up - Explicit, Modern, BSDM, Restraints, Latex, 1.9k words

Kissing the Kettledrums - Mature, Regency, Masturbation, 1.4k words

Baby, It's Cold Outside - Explicit, Regency, Pregnancy Sex, 4.5k words

All's Fair in Love and Pall Mall - Explicit, Regency, Sexual Frustration, 7k words

Works-in-Progress

Knot Surprising - Explicit (eventually), Modern, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pen asks Colin to help with her heat, it goes super well, since they're great friends and all, 1/6, 4.2k words

The Christmas Cake-Off - Teen (for now), Modern, Christmas Hallmark Movie, 2/3, 14.7k words

Twelve Years, One Night - Teen, Modern, Rom-Com (based on Six Days, Seven Nights), 4/?, 11.9k words

Made of Honor: A Polin Love Story - Mature, Modern, Rom-Com (based on Made of Honor), 1/?, 1.8k words

Other Fics

Lord Fife

In His Wildest Fantasies - Explicit, Regency, Fife/Ben but also one-sided Fife/Colin and one-sided Cressida/Pen and also Colin/Pen in the background and ends with marriage of convenience for Cressida/Fife, M/M smut, 5.6k words

Queen Charlotte

Agatha Danbury/Lord Ledger

Come With Me - Explicit, no PIV but it's hot I promise, 4.3k words

Call the Midwife

Bernadette | Shelagh Turner/Patrick Turner

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus - Explicit, Couch Sex, 3k words

may God hold you in the hollow of his hand - Teen, Grief, Loss of a Parent, 4k words

When I Fall In Love, It Will Be Completely - Mature, First Date, 4k words

Talking - Explicit, Married Life, 2.5k words

#polin fanfiction #bridgerton fanfiction #polin #queen charlotte fanfiction #call the midwife fanfiction #yes I redid it to look better and hopefully be easier to navigate and update

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darlingillustrations · 2 months

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I feel like I should be panicking more. My rent is due in one week, my landlord isn't friendly, and I have no one to ask for help. And yet? I have an eerie sense of calm about it.

I know the calm that happens when you are not actually calm but panicking and your body is helping you survive. This isn't that kind of fake calm. I am sleeping at night. I'm not snaping at my kids. I am *at peace.*

(Read more for musings about the economy, my spiritual mindset in the midst of it all, and some Mary Oliver poetry.)

Five years ago? I would be panicking and staying up late working long hours and burning myself out. But now? These days I'm working full days, then stepping back and cooking meals or working on projects for my kids. It feels more stable this time. I feel like I've matured.

I got a report in my email yesterday which showed that retail sales in January plunged 0.8% from December, far worse than the consensus forecast for a decline of just 0.2%, and the largest monthly loss since March 2023. On the one hand, it made me feel better that it's not just me. On the other hand, it sucks that lots of other people are struggling, as well.

Still, I make the time to meditate every morning. Still, I pull out my poetry books and take my life advice from Mary Oliver. In the poem One or Two Things she wrote:

One or two things are all you need to travel over the blue pond, over the deep roughage of trees and through the stiff flowers of lightning--some deep memory of pleasure, some cutting knowledge of pain.

You don't need to have all the answers. You just need to put one step in front of the other.

Last year when I launched my wholesale business, I drummed up over 1000 leads. I'd pick a city and use google maps or yelp to search for gift shops, stationary stores, coffee shops... anywhere that I thought might want my work... and I took the time to write a personal note to each and every one of these businesses. This month I decided to check back in with them again, and so many of the businesses are now closed or their email addresses no longer work.

Having exhausted these leads, I sat at my computer yesterday with the knowledge that I needed to wait on people to get back to me, that the wholesale leads were out of my hands. And that I still did not have money to pay my landlord. Not once did I fear I would join the list of closed businesses. I did not despair.

Instead, I turned to my first joy. I went back to the sales history on my website and found my very first customers from back in 2016 when I launched my web shop. I emailed them, each of those first customers, sending personal emails. I did not ask them to buy anything. That wasn't what I needed. I asked how they were, what they have been up to, where their lives have taken them.

I was searching for that deep memory of pleasure, that cutting knowledge of pain. One or two things is all we need, after all.

And I got one email back.

This woman was the first person to ever buy an art print in my online shop--a honeybee boy painting--and it is still hanging in her stepson's room, nearly 8 years later. She shared pictures of her new baby, and I shared the pictures with my kids. This woman had sent me many emails over the years, asking for life advice or encouraging me on a hard day. She shared that she didn't realize her emails had made such an impact on me.

Funny how none of us truly sees how impactful we are to those around us. Funny how life keeps going on, whether we worry about it or not.

In One or Two Things, Mary Oliver also wrote:

For years and years I struggled just to love my life. And then the butterfly rose, weightless, in the wind. "Don't love your life too much," it said, and vanished into the world.

I want my character to be defined not by what I do when things are easy but by how I carry myself when things are hard. And I do believe things happen for a reason. Maybe the line between delusion and faith is very thin, but the universe has shown me time and again that it's had my back. I've been in worse scrapes and still came out ok.

If you've read this far and you want to help me get through the next week, you can buy something from my shop or support me on Patreon.

And if you've read this far but you are in a similar boat, don't fret. We will find our way through the fires. one. step. at. a. time.

#mary oliver #capitalism #queer artist #support queer artists #patreon artist #darling illustrations #erin speaks

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adore-laur · 5 months

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CLOUD NINE

— a swoonworthy sequel to pink velvet 💍

——

Lake Como is an area with timeless appeal that seizes the eyes of every wanderer roaming the enticing paradise of solitude. Rolling vineyards weave throughout the countryside, with snow-capped mountains rising above the clouds. Romanesque cathedrals and theaters overlook the grand lake beautifully shaped by glacial movements. Opulent gardens of cascading wisteria and olive groves blossom across the region, decorating the premises of historical villas and estates.

It's bliss for the second time.

It also happens to be one of the most desired places in Italy for wedding venues, which is why you're currently driving through the captivating village of Bellagio with Harry the evening before the big day. A year has passed since you were in Salerno together for your third anniversary. A year since he proposed on the secluded beach he rented out for you, bent down on one knee with shaky hands holding a pink velvet ring box that encapsulated evermore.

Now you're back and ready to marry the man who has one hand on the steering wheel of the vintage car and the other resting on your thigh.

Bellagio, which juts into Lake Como, greets you with cobblestone streets hugged by dainty shops and restaurants. Stucco and terracotta houses painted with pastel colors sit with their wooden shutters open, plants on their balconies and ivy climbing their walls. Everything is perfectly placed and flourishing under the European sky.

A boat launch is where both of you are headed since the sun will be setting soon, and being on the lake is where tourists say it is the most idyllic place to admire. You're going to rent a private speed boat for two hours to wind down and spend time together on the alpine waters before being the center of attention tomorrow.

The narrow backroads lead to the pier, where many boats are docked. Harry has brought a comically large backpack filled with various snacks, books, and other items to keep busy while on the lake. He's currently humming along to a solemn Italian waltz statically playing through the car's antique radio speakers. His hair whips in the wind, and golden hour light dances across his face.

"I know you're looking at me," he says, gently squeezing your thigh.

You snap out of your trance and lean over the console to pertly kiss his dimple. "You're just really... bello? Is that how you say pretty?"

His cheeks flush an endearing shade of pink. "Bello, yeah," he murmurs with a shy smile. "Thank you, baby."

After another few peaceful minutes of driving, Harry pulls into a parking lot by the docks. The piers bob in the shallow water. The lake is even more stunning up close, with delicate ripples and a mountainous backdrop that resembles a contemporary impressionist painting.

As you gaze upon the elegant villas sitting along the coastal cliffs, the passenger door swings open, a gentlemen-like gesture Harry always does no matter the countless times you've told him you're entirely capable. You sling your tote bag over your shoulder and pick up Harry's backpack, which is crammed in the space behind the seats. You hand it to him and then interlock your fingers with his before walking to the launch. Luxurious boats rock in the water; their exteriors are glossy and classic, and their interiors are more modern with white leather seats.

"Ciao, siamo qui per il noleggio di due ore," Harry greets the group of men standing on the pier with cigars poking from their lips.

They all smile and wave the both of you over. Harry initiates a foreign conversation with them that you can't understand, save for a few fleeting words. Eventually, one of them claps their hands together and leads you to a speed boat. As the other men remove the ropes that secure it, Harry reaches his hand out to help you step on. He then guides you to the driver's seat, sitting down and settling you on his lap as he sticks the key into the ignition.

"Ready, cipollino?" he asks, recalling the nickname he gave you last year while tipsy under a streetlight. His hand rests on the curve of your back as the engine rumbles to life.

"Yeah," you reply with an eager nod. "And stop calling me that!"

"What should I call you, then?"

"Your wife."

"Not yet, darling." He kisses your neck and then looks behind him, giving the men a thumbs-up.

They return his gesture, and he doesn't waste any more time as he pushes the throttle forward, making the boat lurch. With your legs draped over his, the village becomes farther away. Sailboats and ferries float on the water, and Italian flags are proudly attached to them.

The speed creates swells of water that refreshingly spray your skin as you lean your cheek against the top of Harry's head. He steers with one hand as the other reaches down to unzip his backpack. He sifts through the belongings, eventually taking out a container of mixed cheese cubes he bought a couple of days ago when he went shopping at a local food market.

"Close your eyes and guess," he says over the gusty breeze, hiding the container behind his back.

You close them and open your mouth so he can feed you. You hear him snap the container's top off and then feel a cheese cube on your tongue. You chew it, humming thoughtfully while you figure out the distinct flavor.

"Provolone. That's too easy," you say after swallowing. "Give me another one."

A second piece is given; this time, it's a uniquely rich flavor you've never tasted. You decide to just guess fancy names you've heard in passing. "Um, mascarpone? No, wait. Gorgonzola?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. I have no bloody clue what it is." You laugh and open your eyes, but Harry quickly covers them with his large hand. "One more," he murmurs cutely.

Parting your lips again, you wait for another piece of unknown cheese. However, a pair of soft lips capture your mouth instead. You feel Harry smirk against it, causing you to tilt your head with a bright smile.

"Was that too cheesy?" he asks, playfully tickling your ribs before cutting the engine so the boat can drift. "Eh? Get it?"

You drape your arms over his broad shoulders. "How long have you been waiting to say that?"

He scoffs under his breath. "What do you mean? I come up with these killer jokes on the spot."

"Oh yeah?" you challenge, calling his bluff. "Tell me another one."

Harry pouts his lips and thinks. "Let's see. Give me a second; I have loads of good ones." You giggle into his neck as he struggles. "'Kay, I've got it. Why does water never laugh at jokes?"

"I don't know. Why?"

He cradles your head and whispers in your ear, "It isn't a fan of dry humor."

You lean back and narrow your eyes at him. "That was terrible."

He pretends to throw you overboard, leaving you squealing and holding on tight to his shirt. "Sii gentile."

The following two hours are spent cruising around the lake, pointing out extravagant architecture, and reading the several translated Italian romance novels you bought from an independent bookstore. The mountains are hazy due to the clouds drifting past the jagged crests. The faraway sounds of ferry horns and coos from the wading birds provide a serene atmosphere. You don't plan to remove yourself from Harry's lap anytime soon since his calm breathing and affectionate kisses against your skin make you fall into a blissful reverie.

It doesn't feel like the wedding is tomorrow. The reality hasn't quite hit you yet; you've always felt like it's been some unreachable day that won't ever happen. But now, you sense the forthcoming nerves and anticipation somewhere deep in your bones.

Only one more sunrise until he's eternally yours.

Once the sun has plunged below the horizon and left a blended tangerine and turquoise sky in its wake, Harry lets you take control of the steering wheel to drive the boat back to the docks. You successfully station it between two narrow piers. The men that had previously helped get up from their chairs and come over with rope. Harry takes the key out of the ignition, puts his backpack on, and then grabs your hand and ushers you to land.

"Grazie per la vostra generosità," he tells them with a hand on his heart. "Buonanotte."

"Sei il benvenuto," replies one of the men with a kind bow. "Guidare sicuri."

The both of you smile and walk to the parking lot, getting back in the car.

"That was so relaxing," you say as you slightly recline the seat and sigh happily.

"Mm-hmm." Harry rubs his full stomach and yawns. "Definitely gonna sleep like a baby tonight."

"Really? I think I'll be up all night with anxiety."

"Why? Getting cold feet already?"

"No, just nerves," you say. "It's a life-changing event we've been planning for so long."

His thumb strokes the back of your hand as he starts driving. "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty confident I made the right choice in marrying you."

"I'm not doubting that. I just—"

"I know, love," he interrupts softly. "I'll probably be a jittery mess tomorrow if it makes you feel any better."

You give him a reassuring glance before closing your eyes while he takes the backroads that lead to the villa. The windows are rolled down, warm air envelops your face, and the smell of bread makes you hungry again. Harry will often read random names of restaurants and shops that he passes or quietly hiccup from all the food he ate earlier.

Just as everything becomes background noise, you suddenly feel the car slow down and jerk to a stop. You open your eyes and see that you're on a flat bridge made of grey cobblestone that connects the downtown area to a dirt path lined with cottages. You look over at Harry and find him staring at you with an indecipherable expression, his mouth downturned and his eyes dancing between yours.

"I think there's something wrong with the car," he says.

"What?"

"It just stopped." He scratches his jaw and sighs. I'm pressing on the gas, but it's not moving."

You blink in confusion. "The car is in park, Harry.

"No, I think the car just broke down. Stay here. Let me check under the hood."

"Just put it in drive. Nothing's wrong with it."

Harry ignores you and opens the door, getting out and slowly walking to the front. His hands place themselves on his hips as he bends his knees and studies the car like he knows what he's doing. He definitely does not.

"Hey!" he calls out, pointing a finger somewhere next to you. "It's a little chilly out. Do you mind grabbing my suit jacket from under my seat?"

Suit jacket? What is he talking about? You turn your head and reach under the driver's seat to blindly grab the jacket he apparently brought along. You feel a soft material against your fingertips, and you pick it up and set it on your lap. Sure enough, it's a suit jacket that's neatly folded and the color of a robin's egg. You've never seen it before, and you don't know when he could have possibly bought it since you've been inseparable since arriving in Italy.

You hold it up, and Harry grins, shuffling over to the passenger window. You notice that the stripes on his button-up perfectly match the jacket. Interesting.

"Grazie," he says nonchalantly, taking it from you and putting it on. "Fits like a glove. Speaking of..."

You cross your arms over the window and rest your chin on them. "You're acting really suspicious right now, and I suggest you tell me what's going on before I cancel the wedding."

Harry simply laughs and heads over to the hood. You watch as he reaches into his suit pocket, pulling out a pair of white gloves made of lace.

Now you're concerned.

He gazes up at you from under his eyelashes and smirks, putting on the gloves like he's about to perform surgery. "What?" he asks while straightening his collar. "I don't want to get my hands dirty."

You shake your head in disbelief. "Where did you even get those?"

He ignores you once again and pulls out his phone. He types something briefly and then holds it against his ear. "Towing company," he mouths to you, pointing at his phone with a wink.

You're speechless as you sit in the car, wondering what he mysteriously has up his sleeve. You're not stupid; there's obviously something going on because the car clearly has not broken down, and he's calling a towing company for some reason.

During the short conversation, you listen to him speak Italian in a low murmur, and before you know it, he's hanging up and strolling toward the metal railing of the bridge. He puts his hands in his pockets and paces back and forth, looking up at the peach-colored sky and then out at the sapphire-blue water.

As you're about to step out and join whatever he's doing, you hear distant music start playing. You look out the window and see a group of people walking in your direction, all holding instruments such as mandolins, horns, and accordions. Harry is also walking your way in your peripheral vision, a cheeky expression on his face.

You don't know where to look, but your ears recognize the familiar tune of "That's Amore" by Dean Martin when the group starts singing. Harry quickly rounds to the front of the car and does a clumsy spin, then leans his body and elbow on the hood, lifting one foot up as he begins mouthing along to the lyrics with a satisfied smile.

"Dance with me, amante."

You let out a shocked laugh and join him. "Did you plan all this?"

He daintily sticks out his gloved hand for you to take. "I might have researched Italian wedding traditions a while ago. One of them involves serenading the bride from outside her window, but... I put my own twist on it, I guess. The car didn't actually break down."

You hum against his chest as he begins swaying you. "Yeah, I caught onto that pretty quickly."

"I'm a shit liar," he mumbles into your hair, giving you a twirl. "Anyway, the bride is supposed to lower down a basket of bread, cheese, and prosciutto to accept the marriage." His hand leaves your waist to dig into his pocket. "And my darling, I just happen to have some leftover cheese cubes. Would you be so kind as to do the honors?"

He pulls out a small bag with only three pieces of cheese left. He takes one out and holds it gently between his fingertips. You take it and dramatically clear your throat. "Harry Styles, I accept this marriage. I cannot wait until tomorrow."

Grabbing your wrist, he pops the cheese into his mouth, grinning widely as he chews. "I accept your acceptance."

You continue slow dancing on the bridge as the song crescendos, the singers happily crooning the love-filled lyrics while you're pressed close to Harry.

Tomorrow can't come soon enough.

——

White silk with a subtle hue of lavender feels cool against your skin, the thin fabric of your dress lightly blowing in the breeze.

Harry is right around the corner, probably fidgeting with his fingers behind his back, toeing the ground, and ensuring his outfit is wrinkle-free. You can almost feel his energy, along with the collection of yours and Harry's close family and friends who flew out for the wedding. You hear them distantly chatter as they wait for your arrival.

Deep breaths are the only kind you've been taking all day, and you're surprised the pendant of your necklace isn't shaking from how hard and fast your heart is pounding. You haven't seen Harry since you fell asleep next to him last night, knowing he planned to sneakily slip out of the villa to get ready with his groomsmen early in the morning.

It's evening, so a golden tint casts over everything. The private ceremony occurs outside the lakeside courtyard, surrounded by lush gardens and pathways shaded by trees. The white aisle is rolled out, and a tall, flowered arch can be seen from where you stand behind the trimmed hedges. Stone statues guard the premises, some with moss and chipped bodies.

As you focus on a yellow butterfly that lands on a blade of grass, you suddenly hear the ceremonial music begin playing. Someone behind you squeezes your shoulders and gently pushes you, whispering encouraging words in your ear. You're too distracted by the movement of your dress to comprehend them as you begin walking down the aisle.

Watch your step.

One foot in front of the other.

Don't trip.

Yet when you finally turn the corner, keeping your eyes on the ground is impossible. It's as if everything happens in slow motion. You hear excited gasps and violins in your ears, but your eyes are the strongest sense at the moment. They naturally gravitate upwards to find Harry. He's wearing all silk, just like the both of you planned, along with the same hue of lavender threaded into the fabric. Silk trousers with a silk dress shirt tucked into them and white suspenders over it. A couple buttons are undone.

He's so stupidly handsome.

Once your gaze meets his, matching smiles of pure love take over both of your faces. His is a dimpled one that leaves you breathless, and yours is a gentle one that makes his tears spill over.

You see him roll his trembling lips in, looking down with a soft laugh and sniffle. When you reach him, you accept his bouquet of flowers and stand face-to-face with him for the first time today.

"You look gorgeous," he whispers while shaking his head in awe.

"You look pretty," you whisper back.

He bites the inside of his cheek and glances down at your lips. "I want to kiss you, but I can't."

You laugh and look at the officiant when he raises his hands. "Welcome, everyone," he says. You may be seated."

Everyone sits, and you exhale a long breath. You feel Harry squeeze your hands as the officiant drones on about the joining of the couple and what lifelong commitment means. You're not listening, too lost in Harry's teary eyes as they roam your face and dress.

"Is the bride ready to say her vows?"

You snap your head to the side and nod, a little embarrassed that you zoned out during what were probably important and sentimental words.

You release Harry's hands and take the folded note from your bra, making the crowd laugh. Harry rolls his eyes with a smirk. As you smooth the paper's creases, you feel your throat bob with emotion, thinking about how you poured every bit of your soul into the inked words you wrote for him.

Inhaling deeply, you swallow the lump in your throat. "Harry," you say with a tender squeeze of his sweaty hand, "you are someone who I believe comes into people's lives with a purpose. You came into mine when I wasn't looking for love, but you swept me off my feet with your kindness and attentive nature. I'm so in love with you, truly. When your eyes crinkle with laughter or when you remember intricate details about me. I even love the annoying things, like how you really love peas or how you have to turn the radio down when the roads are busy so you can concentrate. Everything you do and say is beautiful. Your presence is graceful and warm. I'm so thankful I get to be around it for the rest of my life. I love you and promise to do so through every moment, whether rain or shine. Ti amo."

When you finish, your cheeks are damp with tears as the crowd claps. Harry looks past you, quickly wiping under his eyes.

"And would the groom like to say his vows?" asks the officiant.

"Yeah, one second," Harry says as he tilts his head and blinks back tears. He looks back down and takes his vows out from his sock.

"Ew," you say.

"Shush," he says with a smirk. "Okay, um... I'm going to try to get through this without completely losing it." He clears his throat. "So, I wrote this last night when you were sleeping. I wasn't procrastinating; I just wanted to write it when my emotions were high."

He unfolds the paper and straightens his posture. "I love you so much. You know it. Everyone knows it. You've had me whipped since I met you, and I swear it's only gotten worse over the years. I told you when I proposed that I was weak for you. Well, I still am. Always will be. Because I hang onto every word you speak, and my heart beats like a madman every time you look at me. The tremendous love you give me is something I don't deserve. It keeps me going, and the fact that I get to feel it for a lifetime makes me the happiest man in the world. Ti amo forever."

You let out a soft sob and dab under your eyes with your knuckle so your makeup doesn't smear. You secretly give Harry the middle finger for making you cry, and he gives one back, making your family and friends cackle.

"Now for the rings." The officiant hands both of you your designated bands and then looks at you first. "Does the bride take the groom to be her lawfully wedded husband?"

You slide the gold band onto Harry's ring finger, his hand shaking. "Lo voglio."

He seems surprised by your unexpected Italian, raising his eyebrows.

"And does the groom take the bride as his lawfully wedded wife?"

Harry slides your ring on. "Lo voglio," he repeats confidently.

"Then it is my delight and honor to now pronounce you husband and wife," concludes the officiant. "Ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for Mr. and Mrs. Styles!"

Everyone stands and cheers, hollering in celebration. Harry spreads his arms and pumps his fists with a wide smile.

"Can I kiss him?" you ask impatiently.

The officiant laughs and nods. "Yes, you may kiss the groom."

You immediately grab Harry's cheeks and slot your mouth over his, feeling his arms tightly wrap around your waist as he dips you toward the ground. The crowd whoops, and camera shutters click, capturing the official moment.

"Mrs. Styles," Harry murmurs against your lips, kissing them repeatedly until they ache.

You grab his hand to walk down the aisle together, waving and smiling at your families as they throw white flower petals in your path. There's a green convertible parked at the end, a getaway car of sorts, for you and Harry to take to the reception. It has a wreath hung across the trunk and bottles of alcohol and bread in a basket on the console. Harry opens the door for you as family and friends gather around, taking pictures and chatting to one another.

"Wait, we have to change into our outfits before we get there," you say abruptly as he begins slowly driving away. "We didn't think this through."

When you and Harry were planning the wedding, you agreed that you should both change into comfortable party outfits for the reception so it would be easier to move around and dance. Outfits the others hadn't seen yet were picked out and secretly packed in separate suitcases.

You took a risk with yours, to say the least.

"No," he gasps dramatically. "What are we possibly going to do? Bloody hell, we'll have to change in the woods!"

You smack his arm. "Shut up, I'm serious! I've been waiting all year to show you my outfit. We have to stop somewhere."

"Love, we can just change in the bathrooms once we get there."

"Fine. Hurry up, though. I'm excited."

He rolls his eyes and presses on the gas pedal harder.

After about ten minutes, you arrive at the outdoor reception area, which has circular tables and chairs on the lawn with a dance floor in the middle. String lights decorate the low-hanging trees, and some people are already gathered with flutes of champagne and plates of appetizers in their hands.

Harry parks the car and grabs your suitcases, sneakily going around the back of the old-fashioned estate that the venue is a part of. A security guard, wearing sunglasses and an earpiece, stands straight as a pin in front of the fancy double doors.

"Excuse me, sir," Harry says, never letting go of your hand. "Where's the nearest bathroom?"

He clears his throat and looks him up and down suspiciously. "Take the first left. The door is the fourth one on your right."

"Thank you!" you call out from behind since Harry is already dragging you down the porcelain hallway.

Once you reach the bathrooms, Harry enters one stall while you go in the other. You're both breathing heavily and giggling as you unclasp your suitcases and pull out your outfits.

Yours is a rose gold mesh bodycon dress decorated with rhinestones that came with long, matching gloves. Your beige underwear and bra will be visible under it, but that's the intended purpose. You also bought a faux fur boa scarf to hook around your elbows. You unzip your wedding dress and slip on the other one, then walk out of the stall with your empty suitcase.

Harry walks out a minute later, and your knees weaken. He's wearing a suit jacket and trousers with no shirt underneath. What's even more incredible is that the color of the sequined material is almost the exact shade of what you're wearing.

"Shut up," Harry says with a laugh of disbelief. "No way we picked the same color."

All you can respond with is: "Your tits are out."

He looks down at them. "Yeah... I suppose they are."

"You look so hot."

"So do you." He runs his hands from your waist down to your ass. "You look dazzling, Mrs. fuckin' Styles."

"Don't start anything," you warn, gripping the lapels of his suit. "We need to say hello to everyone."

He smirks. "It's crazy that we thought of the same color. I was going to buy a white vest and matching pants, but something told me to get this instead."

"That just means you have good fashion intuition."

"No, I think it means we're soulmates."

You kiss him. "That, too. C'mon, let's go before people get bored."

The reception commences, and hugs and well wishes are all around as you and Harry wander the lawn hand in hand. The weather is perfect, and the sun isn't too sweltering because of the breeze from the nearby lake.

Hours pass, the moon is out, and string lights twinkle around the venue. The dance floor has been open for a while, everyone a little tipsy and sweaty as they dance with each other. You've already done the first dance with Harry, swaying to "Moonlight Serenade" by Frank Sinatra as he whispered sweet nothings with his forehead pressed against yours.

After another slow song ends and couples find other people to dance with, "Careless Whisper" starts playing. Harry borderline screeches in your face while shaking your shoulders.

When the bridge plays, he gets down on his knees before you and belts the lyrics, hair falling in his face as his outfit shimmers from the strobe lights. You put the fur boa around his neck and pull him closer. His hands run up the length of your legs, eventually reaching your hands as you help him.

"My pants just ripped!" he yells over the music.

"Seriously?!" you yell back with wide eyes.

He tilts his head back and laughs with his hands resting on his exposed stomach. You immediately spot the small, ripped seam on his right thigh and begin laughing along with him. It's not even that funny, but cloud nine lifts you too high to care.

The party goes on, and people slowly leave as midnight nears. Soon enough, it's just you and Harry left as the music volume lowers and the chairs start being put away. You eventually stumble with flushed cheeks and giddy smiles to the sleek black limo waiting at the front of the estate.

"Where am I taking the happy couple?" asks the driver.

"Villa Balbiano, please," Harry replies. "And turn the music up loud, yeah? Apologies in advance."

The both of you clamber into the back of the limo, immediately putting the partition up. You straddle Harry's parted thighs as he begins massaging your breasts. "Take your bra off. Let me see your tits under this dress."

You unclip your bra, sliding it off and tossing it to the side. Harry kneads your ass and tilts his head back against the headrest, the veins in his perspiring neck becoming noticeable.

"I'm so gone for you," he says, biting your thumb as if restraining himself from doing a more provocative act.

"That's sweet." You climb off his lap and sit beside him, putting your seatbelt on. "But you'll have to wait."

His jaw clenches in annoyance, and you grin. You love giving him whiplash.

The ride to the villa is short but filled with tension. Harry broodingly looks out the window when the driver pulls into the gravel driveway, his right hand gripping the edge of the seat, his thighs tense.

Once the car is parked, Harry kindly squeezes the driver's shoulder, opens the door, and gets out. In an instant, your door is opened, and you're suddenly scooped up and thrown over Harry's shoulder as he walks up the driveway toward the arched doors. He navigates through the spacious rooms and up the grand staircase in complete silence.

You know what you're in for.

Harry tosses you on the king-size bed and crawls over you, placing his forearms on either side of your body. His cross necklace dangles over you, which is ironic considering how he's looking at you right now.

"Gonna let me fuck my wife, or do I have to wait for that too?" he asks lowly, leaving open-mouthed kisses to your breasts and keeping eye contact with you.

You bite your lip and slide the straps of your dress down, quickly slipping it off. Harry then grabs your wrist and uses his teeth to take one of your gloves, biting the fabric at the top of your fingertips. They're long and tight, so he struggles, huffing and closing his eyes in disappointment.

"This is supposed to be sexy. Stop making fun of me," Harry says with a defeated laugh, taking the route of just yanking them off and throwing them on the floor.

"I didn't say anything," you say, covering your mouth so you don't let a laugh escape. "And those are really expensive, Harry!"

He just shushes you and takes your underwear off. He then buries his face into your inner thigh as you spread your legs open. You're already wet, your warm arousal sticking to your skin. He laps some of it up and rumbles a groan.

"Will you let your husband take care of you tonight? Hmm? Tell me."

"God, Harry." You whine when his nose nudges your aching clit. "Yes. Please."

"So polite for me." He teasingly licks the inside of you with one stroke of his tongue, but it's not enough. "Such a good girl that was dressed like a filthy slut tonight."

"Says you," you reply breathlessly. "You had your tits out all night while you danced with my grandma."

Harry hums a laugh and pushes his nose forward, making you wrap your legs around his waist and arch your back on the bed. He lets out a long moan, beginning to unapologetically lick every last slick drop of arousal that seems to keep pouring out. His hands grip your thighs so tight you're positive there will be bruises left from his rings.

His quiet moans and suckling are muffled by his face pressed right up against your pussy, his hair tickling the bottom of your stomach as his head tilts with each new angle he tries. Your mouth is parted open, desperate whimpers leaving it as your hands tug at his curls.

You know he won't use his fingers, always keen on making you come with just one method. You feel dizzy from the tingling sensation in your thighs and core, your orgasm knotting with a deep ache.

"I'm gonna come," you tell him, digging your heel into his back. "Harry, I'm gonna... I feel it. I can't hold it."

What he does next is heaven. Without moving his head or stopping his tongue, he lifts his hand and presses his large palm down on your lower stomach, massaging it in small circles to help coax the swelling pleasure out. Just as you feel as though you're about to burst, he removes his tongue and lifts his head.

"No, no, no," you say, jerking your hips up.

"Hey, look at me," Harry demands, his lips swollen and glistening. "What's wrong? Am I being mean?"

"I hate you."

"That's no way to talk to your husband, now is it?" He unbuttons his trousers and takes them off, along with his boxers. "What makes you think I'm not going to stuff you full right now with my cock? Or is that not what you want?"

You catch your breath and swallow, your throat terribly dry. "No, I want it. I do."

Harry squeezes his throbbing cock and hovers over you with one hand placed next to your head, his arm bulging and sheened with sweat. It isn't going to take long for you to come undone.

"Yeah?" He reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a condom from the drawer. "You like it when I'm that deep inside you?" he asks, tearing the package open.

"It's my favorite part."

He rolls the condom on and kisses your knee. "Is that what you want?" His voice is now soft as he strokes strands of hair from your face. "You want me to be nice and give you what you want?"

"I know you like it too," you whisper. "Don't even try to lie."

He smirks while running his tongue across his teeth. "And how would you know that?"

"Because you always put your hand right here" — you grab his hand and gently place it below your navel — "to feel it. Your eyes roll back every time. I love it."

His nostrils flare. "You love watching me? How did I not know this about my wife?"

"You're too fucking gone for me to notice," you say, repeating his words from earlier.

He nearly growls, lining himself up with your entrance before thrusting in with no warning. You gasp, holding onto his shoulders as he rocks inside of you, his cock burning past your walls. The headboard hits the wall with each of his powerful thrusts, and you moan pitifully when he goes long and deep. One of his hands holds onto the top of the headboard, and his other holds your limp hand on the sheets.

"So tight," Harry breathes out. "How do you fit all of me, huh? You're so tight and pretty."

Your legs ache as they bend from the force he pounds into you with. He sloppily kisses your lips, teeth knocking against yours and pleading moans escaping into your mouth. His scruff rubs against your face as he continues thrusting faster and faster until the knot forms again, this time stronger than before. You can feel him in the pit of your stomach, leaving you breathless and crazed when his abs move against the slight bulge that forms there.

"There we go," he praises. "That's it, baby. Is that what you needed?"

After another couple of thrusts and encouragements from him, you arch and release while gripping his hand and looking into his eyes. Harry comes at the same time, rutting his hips into yours as he shudders with a deep, guttural moan against your neck.

He hums, pulling out and cradling your cheeks. "You good?"

You nod, watching him quickly discard the condom and flop on top of your heaving body. Everything feels hot, sweat dripping down your hairline and Harry's skin sticking to yours.

"Thank you," you say hoarsely.

"For what, giving you an orgasm?" he asks with a laugh.

"For everything," you reply, running your fingers through his damp hair. "I always feel like I'm floating around you."

"I'm your cloud."

"That oddly makes sense. How do you say that in Italian?"

He starts giggling into your chest, dimples carving his flushed cheeks. "Nube."

You scoff. "Did you just call me a noob?"

His head whips up as he says, "No. Nube means cloud in Italian."

"Nube… that's funny." The both of you start silently laughing at each other, slowly coming down from the high.

"Shit," Harry exhales. "Someone left us some wine."

You turn your head to where he's looking and see a wine bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag on the dresser. There's also a little note attached to it.

Harry gets out of bed and walks over to it with his ass on full display, making you start giggling again. He grabs the wine and gets under the sheets, weaving his legs with yours.

You take it from him, popping the cork and raising the bottle. "Cheers to us. Ti amo forever, nube."

He grabs your hand and kisses the ring on your finger. "Ti amo, Mrs. Styles."

You take a swig, letting the crisp sweetness coat your throat before Harry has some.

You've come to realize that bliss can be tangible. Silk sheets and red wine. Heated skin and purposeful touches. Soft eyes and kisses just because. If you could, you would bottle this moment up to drink, letting the liquified love permanently stain your soul.

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles #adore-laur #cloud nine

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marinas-drafts · 7 months

Text

Crawfever 1

Plot: You weren’t the first war widow to indulge in this, and young Elvis wasn’t the first young man who justified it…

SUMMARY: I adore the notion that Elvis Freakin’ Presley himself might have shown up at your doorstep to fix your electrical problems in the early 50’s. The concept that all that untapped charisma and talent and beauty could be found just going about his business, helping housewives with their glitches…well, this came out of the imagining of what one such call might look like. And if it devolved into poorly written Southern Gothic literature, blame Eudora Welty. 🥰. Also, A Streetcar Named Desire may have influenced my artistic choice of copious descriptions of sticky southern summers and the *feelings* they can provoke. This hasn’t been proofread by any eyes except my own exhausted ones.

Note: there were three other parts to this but I lost them with my old blog, alas. You can find them on tumblr still on my main blog. 💋

An Electrician Named Elvis

Summer in Memphis is a sticky, windless, oppressive thing, only relieved by the occasional swim, creaking fans and a chilled beverage held to the throat. The ice box is revered as a savior during these months and those nights the electricity shorts out due to the thunderstorms rolling across the Mississippi are spent in anxious fretting that it would turn on again by morning. But by ten o’clock this morning there’s no such luck, even though the lines have been fixed you’ve been told it’s a problem closer in.

Probably in the house.

Exactly the sort of problem your Billy would have solved himself with no extra cost but the odd washer or wire.

But Billy’s not here so instead you’ve got Crown Electric sending out whoever they deem expendable enough to waste on fixing a housewife’s ice box.

If it’s Marvin they send, you just might flip -you appreciate the man but haven’t any patience for that or him. Not today, not on top of milk going rancid and your baby girl having a pathetic breakfast before school. You can’t mend Marvin’s pants any faster for all that he mows your lawn. The lawn you pay him to mow. The lawn he owns as your landlord anyhow -oh and there’s the sound of the Crown truck coming to a stop on the drive.

You recognize that staring at the ice box won’t do much good so you go to the screen door in time to see a whole lotta leg swing out from the drivers seat.

You’re not sure you’ve ever appreciated a pair of legs so much as you do this blazing morning, and as they stretch out you have an epiphany of sympathy for the wolf whistles you yourself have received on windy days.

This pair goes on for miles, and they’re owned by an eager, doll-faced boy.

Heavens, is this his first job? At least it isn’t Marvin and you won’t be pestered about rent or mending, but wether or not a man who favors pink socks under his drab olive work-suit can fix a problem that’s befuddled many a handyman before him -well, that remains to be seen.

He’s halfway up the drive when he catches sight of you behind the screen door, his face animates and he jogs up the rest of the way. Taking the front steps two at a time.

You push the door open.

In the shade of your doorstep his complexion looks softer than any of your sister’s and you’re greeted by the same expression you see each morning when you wake your young daughter up -a desire to please. The effect is a little unsettling on a grown man, so obviously well proportioned, towering over you and decked out in a rough handyman’s attire.

“They said you’ve got an outage ma’am?”

“Yes, couldn’t fix it with the lines apparently.”

“Probably just the lightening shorted somethin’ out.” He assures you, voice going ever so gentle, like he’s comforting someone deeply bereaved.

Like he’s gonna fix all your troubles by turning the ice box and fans back on.

That won’t cure all your troubles, but it would be a start, a way for you to handle the rest.

“May I come in?” He adds softly when you say nothing.

You’re still standing in the doorway, unconsciously guarding it as you’ve been doing since you got that wretched telegram in ‘44. Nine years ago. Nine years and no one but relatives and Marvin when collecting the rent have crossed the threshold since.

Certainly no long limbed boy with hair as black as Billy’s and the intention of helping you around the house. Fixing the house, rather. No, damn it, just the electricity like it’s his job to do.

Just as Billy would have done if Billy were here.

This ain’t Billy, Billy had an earnest, sweet face and none of this boy’s ripe prettiness. Billy never talked softly either.

“Yeah, yeah, of course, right this way -what’s you’re name?”

“Elvis…Presley, ma’am.”

“Welcome to the oven, Elvis.”

The house has become a swampy inferno and though the windows are open the curtains hang limp, there isn’t a breeze between all these houses packed close together. It’s stifling under the low ceiling and whatever fresh look he had maintained flying down the road in his aired-out truck is melting now.

“Downright nasty in here.” He comments, and then he grins at you as the sweat begins to collect atop his cupid’s bow. “No wonder you’re out of sorts.”

“Yeah that’s gotta be it.” You manage to return the grin, ignoring the insinuation, “And spoilt milk always makes me testy.”

“You kept your ice box closed?”

“Sure have.”

“Then it might be alright. Only been off a few hours, right?”

“Since midnight.”

“Well, then, should be fine.” He’s got that comforting voice going on again and you reckon that either there’s an old soul in that daisy fresh face or else he’s spent most of his young life reassuring somebody. Reassurance flows from him naturally, and for once, you don’t feel like shrugging the comfort off.

And there’s a strange clench in your heart at how long it’s been sense you let someone metaphorically pat your back and tell you everything will turn out right. You’ve got lots of relations and a few friends who busy themselves and you with worrying about how you’re gonna manage to raise your daughter, earn a living and climb far enough out of the fog of widowhood to be considered socially acceptable again. It’s nice that some boy who’s never had his guts ripped open overseas wants to restore your ice box to you and make everything alright again. It’s precious that he thinks that’ll do it.

You’ve been pondering too long and now you’ve got a frog lodged in your throat and it ought to be awkward but he doesn’t look away, he just shyly peaks down at you under copious lashes and smiles encouragingly. “The electrical panel is in one of the bedroom closets, I’m guessin’?”

“In the Master.”

“Alright then.”

You usher him back to the stuffy little room that's glowing orange from the drapes trying to block out the noonday sun.

You’d pulled some clothes out of the closest beforehand to make it easier for him to reach the panel. When you’d done that you were imagining Marvin or man of his stubby frame working on it, but Elvis is unfazed, he just gracefully folds his long limbs into a squat in the tiny cubby and cranes his neck until he level with the panel. He’s got his tool kit balanced on one thigh and he gives you a thumbs up to suggest your presence is no longer needed. He is starting to look as miserably sticky as you feel, his black hair turning somehow darker with sweat.

His lips pucker up as he starts unscrewing a bolt. It’s rather obscene.

“Would you like some lemonade?” You’re offering as you need some yourself.

He looks startled you’re still standing there but after a minute’s hesitation he asks: “is it pipin’ hot?”

You laugh and he immediately looks pleased with himself. Damn, he’s so young. “I’m gonna crack open the ice box” you explain.

His humored look flees and earnest blue eyes go round in protest. “Ma’am I haven’t fixed this yet! I just got in here!”

“I know, silly,” you swat the air at him, “take it as a sign of faith you’ll manage it.”

He grins back, and a man squatting in a sweltering closet oughtn't to look that alluring. You assure yourself it’s just the domesticity of the whole thing. Billy changing a bulb or scrubbing a dish or hanging Christmas lights that one Christmas you had him to yourself -that’s the stuff that made you throw yourself at Billy in the mid afternoon of a balmy work day.

Raven haired young Elvis might work for the electrical company and be earning a commission with each moment of his work day you waste but if you squint a bit, he could be a beautiful boy who wanted to wife you up and give you babies and rub your feet when you’d been on them all day.

Lately you’ve gone out of the habit of assuming someone who looks as fresh as he does would be eyeing up a sweat soaked war widow, but young Mr. Presley had either never been shamed for his lack of subtly or never bothered to hide it because while his looks were tender, they weren’t respectful in the proper sense. You only wished you could see his revering expression as you sauntered away from him back into the kitchen.

The ice box was tolerably cool for having been kept shut. The milk was safe for now but would spoil sooner for the dip in temperature. That waste didn't rankle you as much as it had an hour ago. The thought “that’s alright” actually made it past your lips for the first time in months and you couldn’t help but marvel that you might have lost a bit of your cantankerous streak on the front steps.

With a sudden swoosh and buzz the small pedastol fan on the counter top buzzes back to life and the light in the ice box clicks on.

You whooped “you’ve done it!”

Heavy footfalls came out of the back bedroom and Elvis came into view with a bewildered look on his face: “You haven’t got a A.C. unit ma’am?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Oh you should!” He warmed up to the argument, “They make the air crisper than anything, sucks the river mist right out the air.”

“Not gonna be able to manage that on a war widow’s pension.” You retort nonchalantly, handing him a glass of chilled lemonade which he takes slowly and carefully, eyeing you over the rim.

“So that’s what happened.” He said softly.

“What do you mean?”

“You seem so sad. That’s what started it?”

If he stayed this empathetic for the rest of his life he’d end up burned out and hollow before he hit fifty. He had no business looking out to solve every hurting person’s problems, not when he was so obviously lost himself.

“Three days into the Normandy campaign, at least that’s what they told me.” You've explained your husbands absence many times in the same way, but you aren’t sure you ever had a more sympathetic audience than this boy who is pressing the beaded lemonade glass to his cheek and looking at you like he knows exactly what it’s like to have your sweetheart get burned up by a nazi flamethrower. He doesn’t say a word of comfort on the matter, he doesn’t need to, his eyes show it all and his lips part and he murmurs:

“But he gave you a child?”

“He sure did, bless him. Her name’s June,” your lips quirk up just at the thought of her “my baby girl. She’ll be turning nine, day after tomorrow.”

The sorrow has gone off his face and he looks like he’s scheming now, and somehow that’s the most alarming expression to yet grace his features. He leans in across the kitchen counter, all familiar like, and that’s worse than anything: “Tell me, Mrs. Crawford, yeah, see I caught your name in the directory -but, tell me, does your June like to swim?”

“Loves it almost as much as watermelon.” You know you must look wary, but the last time a man leaned over a bar and eyed you up in this way you ended up married to him. Actually, scratch that. Billy was a darling and a delightful flirt but he didn’t have one ounce of the raw, unconscious danger this boy holds in his pinky finger alone.

“I’ve got a heap of cousins,” he begins quite randomly, “ranging all ages, and we’ve got a watering hole we found just south of town where the trees keep it all cool and the farmer doesn’t mind us so long as we don’t upset the cows. And I’ve got a truck, you see, and I was thinkin’ when you needed to cool off you could come join us. My mama would love to make a picnic out of little June’s birthday, I just know she would. What do you say to that?”

“Mr. Presley, I don’t know you nor your cousins. And I’m sure your mama is real nice but-“

“Right, because I reckon otherwise you get out a lot these days.” You hardly expected that amount of sass coming from his earnest face and it takes you aback.

You try a different route. “Why?”

“Because I’d like to see you smiling and wet from something besides sweat.” It’s a sweet sentiment, if it didn’t come from a man eyeing you up like he has been these past five minutes.

“I don’t know about her birthday,” you give in a little, “my parents always like to be around for it and she likes them to be.”

“Of course, of course” he nods. “And she doesn’t know me.”

“No she doesn’t.” It kills you to turn this down but you aren’t one to go do things your child isn’t interested in in her name.

“Tell her about the swimmin’ hole, then” he says all easy and confident as he straightens himself up from the counter and chugs the lemonade down, “and I’ll be back day after tomorrow with an extra valve so this don’t happen again. No need for it going off every time the rice fields get some rain.”

You’re clutching your glass to your chest and not even the icy chill against your sticky breast can make your heart stop thumping. “You’ve gotta come back?”

“I suppose I could ask Marvin to come instead.” He shrugs a tad too nonchalant, and looks away from you as he maneuvers around you to place his glass in the sink like the good, house tamed boy that he is. Except you’re very afraid you’ve miscalculated and welcomed a wolf in when you thought you were entertaining a lamb.

“How do you know about Marvin?” You demand.

“I work with him?” He replies hesitantly, brows and lips drawn up and eyes glittering with concern at your tone.

“No, no” you smack him lightly on the bicep and realize your mistake when he breaks out into a dimpled smile, “I meant why did you smirk when you said that he could come instead of you?”

“You’d rather your landlord come by and see your still in the back?” He’s cocky now, a hip jutted out against the cabinets.

“How the hell did you notice that?” You cried out, half laughing, half outraged, “You weren’t back in that bedroom longer than ten minutes.”

“I’s just curious what type of moonshine you were makin’.” He mutters, smirk barely wavering. “I’d never judge nobody for how they make ends meet.”

“Alright, you can come back.”

“Marvin talks about you.” He tosses this piece of information out there real cooly. You nearly get whiplash from how fast he changes direction, “Told me you’re a marvelous woman who takes care of the whole block but won’t let no one take care of her.”

You aren’t sure you’re comforted by the fact his tender smile is still in place. But you’re glad that he doesn’t seem to taste an awkward moment when it smacks him in the face. You find you like talking with him about these long neglected subjects.

“Marvin’s alright.” You concede. “He helps me out plenty. And now there’s you. And I thank you for fixing my fans.”

To prove your point turn from him and rest your elbows on the countertop, leaning to push your face up to the blast of the little pedestal fan, letting your hair fly wildly around you.

Somewhere behind you can hear him chuckle. It sounds alarmingly close. “It’s made my day.” You say, voice distorted by the force of the whirring blades.

That’s when you feel him drape himself over you, his chest a centimeter away from your sticky back and an elegant hand on each side of yours against the counter. His voice warbles just as funny thanks to the fan when he says: “Mrs. Crawford, I’m gonna get you a Chrysler air cooling system, just you wait and see.”

Presumably he’s draped himself over the length of you to get in the direct line of the fan’s breeze, but you doubt there’s any other man at Crown Electric who’d dare act on that impulse as he has.

“Oh are ya now?” You don’t even have to try to sound incredulous. You are incredulous he’d dare do this, that he’d read you so well to know you’re starving for a little closeness in this soggy kitchen. “Well, that’s real sweet of you, Elvis. How on earth are you gonna manage that?”

Why he, a stranger, would buy you such a thing is left unasked. Again, it feels domestic and you want to hold onto that fuzzy feeling for a moment longer. Also, you’re desperately trying to keep still, one tiny shift or move and you’ll brush up against some part of him, and at this point you’re not sure there’s an inch of this man that’s benign. Playing along seems safer than trying to disentangle.

His head dips down and the strands of his hair tickle the tips of your ear as his voice drops low:

“I’m gonna make a lotta money, mama.”

“Oh? Is there any money left in Memphis?”

He giggles then, and he never sounded more boyish than when he did that, his voice bouncing off the tinny fan. “Dunno how I’ll manage but it will involve singin” he takes one hand from the countertop and pats your hip familiarly, and right then any bit of deniability on your part goes out the window because you don’t correct him for it.

“‘Cause we’re so short in singers in Memphis?” You tease instead, wishing you sounded less interested. Less gasping.

“Yeaaaaaah baaaaaaaaby” he hollers above you into the fan, laughing again as it spooks you and you jerk back, right into the lanky breadth of him.

There’s a brief wrestling match after that involving you trying to get away from his lithe limbs as fast as you can and him trying to keep you from toppling over by wrapping his lean arms around your shoulders.

That stills you.

No one’s rested their chin atop your head in nearly a decade, and you could sob in frustration that it’s that little motion of his that makes you hungry and angry all at once.

You coulda had this. You had it for one good year. You could have it again if the whole block wouldn’t gape at the fact you were robbing the damn cradle.

Young Mr. Presley seems to have a taste for housewives pushing towards thirty and you aren't too proud to deny you’ve suddenly grown an attraction for sweet boys who just wanna make life sweeter. You two could write a sweet fiction, however brief.

“I wanna see you happy,” he mutters soft in your ear, “tell me you’ll let me come around again.”

“I’ll tell you what, Elvis,” you place your hands atop his forearms, leaning back, “you come around, meet my June, fix that washer business and I’ll feed ya a good meal while you tell her ‘bout that watering hole.”

“Really?” He’s beaming and you crane your neck back further so you can see it clearly. It’s a sight to be admired. “Day after tomorrow, that’ll work?”

“Yeah it’ll do.” His unabashed joy gives you the upper hand for a moment and you do the safe thing, pulling away and giving him a once over. “Tell me, does that nice mama of yours know you go round putting moves on widows?”

He has the audacity to blush at that, looking down at the floor, abashed for the first time since this shameless encounter. “She worries they’ll be the ones putting the moves on me.” And he rolls his eyes as if that sensible woman were delusional.

“Can’t imagine why.” You say dryly. “Now, you scoot, I’ve got mending to do.”

He wakes up at that, grabbing his tool kit and ducking his head not to hit the low ceiling as he makes his way to the front door. You trail after him enjoying the view of something so virile and alive in your house. Since when have men’s waists been so pretty?

“So, see you day after tomorrow?” He looks more vulnerable outside, not so sultry in the glow of blazing sunlight, and the anticipation of somebody wanting to see you puts a pep in your tone, brightens your face -you can feel it, and see it mirrored in his.

“Yeah,” you lean against the frame, “and after that…”

“Yeah?”

You let him fidget, “after that you’ll show me how you plan on getting me that A.C. Unit.”

He snaps his fingers and points at you, “I’ll bring my guitar then.”

“Oh yes, you’d better.”

He’s halfway back to his truck when he spins around and takes a few steps back towards you, “Say, d’you play anything?”

It’s been awhile and you’re rusty but you reckon you’re about to begin indulging in many long abandoned pastimes so you tell him: “Harmonica.”

“Ah,” he sways back on his feet, going back to his truck only to turn, one foot on the runner boards, looking at you admiringly. “You’ve got the lips for it.”

Hope y’all enjoyed. This is a repost from my (currently censored) main blog @precious-little-scoundrel and in turn it’s a repost from the original written over a year ago on my deleted OG Elvis blog @aconflagrationofmyown I want to start collecting my fics here in case anything happens with my main. Xoxo

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis x reader #elvis imagine #elvis #elvis smut #baby elvis #army elvis #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presely smut

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unabashegirl · 6 months

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Enticing 31 (HS)

Summary: Harry is a young billionaire and CEO of his own company. He mostly keeps to himself, he is stern and very meticulous when it comes to business. He also likes to keep his personal life very private for the sake of his newly born son Oliver Styles. It isn't until he meets Y/N Y/L/N that everything changes. She becomes his new nanny after his previous one quits due to personal reasons. She is young, caring, and sweet. Will they ignore their feelings? Will Harry's girlfriend accept their love and leave them? Will she be able to cope with his busy agenda? What about Oliver's mother? Where is she? Who is she?

masterlist

word count: 1.5K

It was late in the afternoon. Harry was still in his office. He had planned to leave earlier, but as always issues had surfaced in the office.

“This is wrong” Harry exhaled as he read over the contract that had been drafted. He ran his hand across his prickly face. He was still getting used to the new sensation. At first, it was because he was too depressed to shave. He was not motivated to get ready or look sharp.

A few weeks ago, Harry had looked at himself in the mirror and hadn’t been able to recognize himself. His life was a mess. His routine had gone out the window and the company was paying for his absence. Then, Harry realized that she was never coming back. He realized that he needed to accept it. He needed to accept that he had lost her forever. Harry allowed himself a few more minutes to mourn their relationship before getting into the shower and putting on a new suit.

“What is William thinking? Has he gone over this?” Harry asked Andrew as he flipped through the pages. William’s company had redacted the contract and all the information was mismatched to what they had previously discussed at a meeting. Harry couldn’t sign it.

“I believe he has” Andrew answered as he scrolled down the email to which the document had been attached to. The email had been sent from William’s email and had been signed already on his behalf.

“Get me a car” Harry ordered.

“But sir, you have a meeting scheduled in twenty minutes” Andrew reminded him, to which Harry brushed off with his hand.

“I am sure they can wait for me. I’ll be very quick. I just need to discuss this with him” Harry got up from the seat and button his blazer before slipping on his trench coat. “Tell them that I had another meeting, and it is running late. Call me when they all get settled in the conference room”.

“Yes sir” Andrew nodded as he opened the door for him. “Would you like me to order dinner?” He could tell that they would be working until late. Harry had missed a lot. There was multiple unfinished business, that he had to go through.

Andrew was only glad to see him out of his apartment. Andrew was sad to know that he had given up on Y/N. However, he could understand why he had decided to let her go. Harry had a son and a company with hundredths of employees, and he needed to move on. He had a bunch of people to take care of and the thought of her obstructed him from fulfilling his duties. He obviously looked different, but it suited him. The slight beard made him look much older and serious, but there wasn’t anything that Harry couldn’t pull off. He was an attractive man and there was no denying it.

“That would be wonderful. Order something for yourself too” Harry said as he left.

William’s office was just a few blocks away from Harry’s. Harry could have walked there, but the day was so cold and so rainy that it was the last thing he desired to do. As usual, there were tons of traffic which gave him the opportunity to answer some emails and check up on Oliver and the new nanny through the apartment cameras.

Oliver was sitting in his brand-new highchair while the nanny looked like she was preparing a bottle in the kitchen. Harry decided to not move to the new apartment. He was still paying the rent for it, but he wasn’t ready to move in. He was also not ready to let go of it. Harry knew it was something that he needed to do, but it wasn’t a priority.

“Thank you” He thanked his driver as he got himself out of the car. He made sure that he hadn’t left his phone or the contract before entering the building. “Good morning,” Harry said to the receptionist.

“Mr. Styles! It’s good to see you! We weren’t expecting you” Mia walked up to the phone. “Let me announce you.”

“Something came up. It will only be a few minutes” Mia only nodded and gained him access to the elevators. “Thank you,” he said to her as he walked past security and waited for the elevator. He smiled at her, one last time before getting in.

“What are you doing here?” William questioned him as soon as the doors from the elevator opened on his floor. Mia had called him that he was coming up which had gotten him on his feet right away.

“Came here to talk about the contract that you just sent to me. It’s all badly written” He frowned as he pulled the contract up and handed it to him. “I was just about to sign it when I realized the numbers didn’t match what we had discussed.” William looked over his shoulder and nodded at his words. “What’s going on?” Harry asked confused about his erratic behavior.

“Nothing. Everything is fine” William said as he took the documents. “I’ll look over them. Anything else?”

“No—”

“Alright! I am sure you are busy!” William requested an elevator for Harry.

“William! What the hell is going on with you!” Harry finally exclaimed, “Why are you kicking me out?” He asked as William basically pushed him into the elevator.

Before any of them could share any other words. The clicking of a pair of heels interrupted them. It was Y/N, walking down the hallway and on her way to her office, holding a fresh cup of coffee. She wore a tight dress that showed the few months of pregnancy that she had experienced on her own.

“Y/N?” Harry asked as he pushed himself away from William. Her expression of utter shock, and her watery eyes, let Harry know that she wasn’t happy to see him.

“Harry” Her voice broke as she gripped the cup of coffee tighter to her body. “What are you doing here?” She asked as her hands went down to her low abdomen, trying her best to hide her small, but evident bump.

“I came here to talk to William. I didn’t know you were working already” Harry’s eyes move down to her stomach, but quickly move back up to her face. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He exhaled loudly and tried his best not to demand answers. Harry could tell that she was only a few months ahead. “Congratulations”.

“Thank you” She softly smiled at him. Y/N was surprised by his temper and how calm he looked. She expected him to start yelling and making the floor shake. “It’s good to see you”. She said before she could stop herself.

“You look perfect” He smiled but held his tongue from asking who was the father. She blushed, but still kept her distance. “Can we speak privately? Harry asked noticing the multiple people that were watching their interaction.

“I-I am currently busy. I have a meeting.” Y/N explained, nervous about what he might say to her behind doors.

“I understand. Maybe for dinner?” Harry suggested he could understand that she no longer had the same schedule as before. Y/N was now an executive which meant she was busier than ever.

“Harry. I —” He could tell that she was going to decline his invitation. Therefore, he interrupted her.

“Then schedule me a meeting for tomorrow” he dictated. Y/N tried her best not to smile. “Should I get in contact with your assistant?” Harry asked noticing that he was causing her to smile. The dynamics were now different.

“That would be fine” She nodded, “I’ll see you soon then,” Y/N said just before heading into her office. Her heart was racing, and she needed to decompress. The last thing that she had imagined that she would be doing that day, would be speaking to him.

Harry smiled and asked for the elevator. He no longer needed to speak with William. His day had turned dramatically. He was obviously extremely nervous about what might have been revealed during their meeting. William got into the elevator with him before the doors closed.

“Harry —”

“How long?” He interrupted him.

“Three months or so” Harry hummed and looked down at his watch. “She asked me not to tell you, Harry. She begged and cried”. William explained he knew that he had messed up. William had always claimed that his loyalty always lay with Harry. Unfortunately, his silence proved him otherwise.

“If she is pregnant with my son or daughter, and you hid it from me. I will never forgive you.” Harry said before leaving...

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aceofwhump · 5 months

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Have you made a list or notes on whumpy Hallmark and if so where?🥺

You know what, I haven't yet! Let me do that for ya now. And if anyone wants to add their favs please do so!

A Gift To Remember: Darcy (Ali Liebert) hits Aiden (Peter Porte) while riding her bike and he gets knocked out and loses his memory. It’s pretty good.

Love on the Sidelines : Laurel (Emily Kinney) is a struggling fashion designer who finds herself with a job as a personal assistant for Danny (John Reardon), a quarterback sidelined with an broken ankle. Danny is on crutches for most of the movie and is recovery from his injury.

Spirit of Christmas: A young lawyer (Jen Lilley) finds romance with a spirit (Thomas Beaudoin) that takes the form of a human 12 days before Christmas. He was murdered and there are flashbacks to him being attacked and killed.

Christmas Homecoming: Stars Michael Shanks (Daniel Jackson from SG1!!) as an Army Captain recovering from an injury in battle. He's got a broken leg and suffers from survivors guilt and ptsd.

Hailey Dean Mysteries: Deadly Estate for some good poisoning whump of a medical examiner. You want unconscious? medically induced coma? respirator? bedside vigils? worry? waking up with a twitching hand? walking down the hospital floor holding onto their iv pole? Then this is the movie for you!

Love Blossoms: one small part when the main guy, Declan, gets sick with a cold during the movie. It’s kind of cute but the rest of the movie's got nothing.

Second Chances: "A badly injured leg forces fireman Jeff, who lost his father in a fire as a young boy, to rent a ground floor room during his recovery. Thus he moves in with Jenny, a 911 emergency call center operator, and her two young children, Luke and Elsie, who soon dote on him as an ideal substitute father and try matching him with their mother."

My Gal Sunday: Henry (Cameron Mattheson) gets shot in the beginning of the movie.

Signed Sealed Delivered Lost Without You: Oliver goes on a hike with his father. His dad trips and gets a seemingly innocuous injury on his leg but the two of them get lost in the woods and the injury turns out to be life threatening.

A Godwink Christmas Miracle of Love: Eric (Alberto Frezza) is run over by a plow near the end of the film. There's lots of surgery, worry, hospital stuff.

Retreat to Paradise: "Jordan is recovering from a shoulder injury and his grumpiness tempts Ellie, his carer, to leave him to his misery. But will romance finally blossom?"

The Christmas Waltz: Roman (Will Kemp) hits his head due to slipping on an icy sidewalk and has to go to hospital

Taking a Shot at Love: "Sparks fly between a ballet instructor and a professional hockey player as she tries to help him recover from the same injury that sidelined her dancing career." It's not got a lot of whump but it is about a hockey player in rehab.

Martha's Vineyard Mysteries series: The whole series. Jesse Metcalfe's character Jeff was shot on a previous case and the bullet is still in lodged in his back and it causes him pain a lot AND he continually has nightmares about the incident. It's great.

Mystery 101: Killer Timing: Travis (Kristopher Polaha) gets blown up and even though the aftermath doesn't last long its still wonderful. He gets knocked out, there's an ambulance and hospital scene (kinda), worried family members.

Never Kiss a Man in a Christmas Sweater: Maggie O'Donnell (Ashley Williams) accidentally breaks Lucas Cavelli (Niall Matter)'s arm while carrying a Christmas Tree and offers him a room to stay in when he can't find a hotel room cause she feels guilty.

A Timeless Christmas: Charles Whitley (Ryan Paevey) passes out in 1903 and wakes up in 2020.

Aurora Teagarden A Bundle of Trouble: Martin Bartell (Yannick Bisson) gets shot in the shoulder

Christmas on the Range: Clint McCree (Nicholas Gonzalez) is attacked and beaten up pretty badly.

Mix Up in the Mediterranean: Josh (Jeremy Jordan)'s twin brother Julian gets hurt and can’t do a cooking competition so Josh takes over.

The Christmas Cure: Mitch (Steve Byers) falls off ladder and gets a concussion

Love's Christmas Journey: Sheriff Aaron Davis (Greg Vaughan) gets shot in the leg while chasing a robber. His injury is bad and gets infected. He gets a fever and is rescued by an old man who cares for him. The wound needs cauterizing and he suffers fever, chills, and more.

Hearts in the Game: Diego Vasquez (Marco Grazinni) is a hot shot baseball pitcher who has a panic attack during a game which costs the team the game. Turns out it was triggered by the anniversary of his moms death and he has another panic attack later in the movie as well.

Fourth Down in Love is about an athlete who is sidelined by an injury. Broken ribs I think?

Rip in Time: Another fun time travel movie. Rip (Niall Mater) gets knocked out at least once.

Three Wise Men and a Baby: Paul Campbell's character has social anxiety and has a sort of panic attack in the park at the beginning of the movie.

Jolly Good Christmas: Will Kemp's character falls into a frozen river and he comes out shaking and shivering and she gets him a blanket and tea and he needs a hot shower.

That's all I've got for right now. The bolded ones have the best whump in my opinion so definitely check those out first :) Love's Christmas Journey and the Martha's Vineyard Mysteries are A+ whump hallmark movies. Do those first ;)

#hallmark #whump #whumpy hallmark movies #mod replies #ask #whump list

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misslavenderlady · 7 months

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Love at First Bite pt. 2💞

David/Female!OC & Male!OC/Female!OC

Summary: Sis can't stop thinking about the adorable redheaded waiter that treated her like the queen she is. Once she and the pack get to know him a little better, he'll see them for what they truly are~

This was inspired by @ghoulgeousimmaculate and her characters from the series Party the Pain Away and the various fics that take place afterwards. Ghoulie and I discussed the possibility of having another boy join the coven after so many girls were brought in. Please read part 1 if you haven't yet!

WARNINGS: Fic contains mentions of fear, emotional manipulation, power dynamics, toxic relationship dynamics, PDA, mentions of blood/murder, sex and alcohol. This has references to Ghoulie's stuff, and takes place in the modern world, not 1987. Part 3 HERE

"You're serious?"

"Absolutely! You should have seen him, hun. He was the cutest thing I've ever laid eyes on"

It gave Gem quite a surprise to see her sister bride in such a cheery mood. After the last few difficult months for the pack, she had been worried about Sis and her psyche facing permanent damage. Becoming a vampire came with its own mental and physical tolls. What Cyrus had put them all through was an entirely new level of suffering.

And yet, here she was. All doe-eyed and sappy like a schoolgirl with a crush. The happiest she had been since her resurrection. Usually only being with her babies made Sis act like herself again. This human boy had to be pretty special.

"And you don't want to bring him over for a fuck and a meal?"

"Surprisingly, I don't. At least….not right now," Sis explained. She smiled to herself as she fell back onto the couch, putting her feet up on Gem's lap to relax. "I dunno, he was just such a sweet guy. Genuine, polite, doting. You don't see many boys like that anymore."

Gem smirked, rubbing her queen's legs as she listened to the story. Seeing her in such a good mood had Gem feel quite pleased as well. It made her quite curious as to what potential could be in a human.

"Well, we are due for a girl's night out. How about we ask the boys to watch the babies and then you, me, Babydoll and Red go out for some fun," Gem proposed. "You can introduce us to the human."

The mere idea made Sis' eyes sparkle in delight. She was already excited to pick out her outfit for such a special occasion. Something truly special for a well-deserved night of fun.

Oliver's shift honestly could have been better that night. He was out of the zone. Forgetting to put in a large order, giving three different tables the wrong drinks, and getting yelled at by an elderly couple for having the audacity to forget their senior discount. He felt so clumsy and careless. It was rather embarrassing.

What didn't help was that his coworkers were noticing. They had been in the game long enough to recognize when one of their fellow servers was having a rough night.

"Hey Ollie!" one server greeted him, making small talk while punching in an order. "You feeling alright? Need a smoke break?"

"No thank you, I don't smoke," Oliver explained as he tried to organize a messy stack of menus. "And I'm fine. I just…my mind hasn't been where I want it to be lately. I'm not usually like this, I swear."

The server smiled and gave Oliver a friendly pat on the back. He definitely had nights like that too.

"Something on your mind?"

"Well….someone actually."

Oliver knew exactly what was making him trip over himself and act like his head was in the clouds.

Sis. He could not stop thinking about her. Though he was grateful for her generosity when she paid him a large enough tip to pay his rent that month, that wasn't at all the reason he had such a deep infatuation.

She had this magic to her. Like an aura of true beauty. Though her curves and her flawless looks definitely showed how stunning she was on the outside, Oliver had a deep feeling that there was something truly remarkable about her on the inside too.

Growing up, he was taught that you could learn a lot about a person just by how they treated a stranger. Especially if that stranger was a poor, struggling service worker. The world wasn't always kind to people who had a difficult life.

He didn't know what it was about her, but he just had a feeling she understood him. That she knew compassion could go a long way.

"Well, Romeo, you might wanna get your head back in the game," the server interrupted his thoughts. "You got company."

"Salve signore! Right this way!"

Giuseppe had welcomed a group of ladies into the restaurant, ushering them to the back area just as he did the other night for David and Sis.

And speaking of which. The lady at the head of the pack was a familiar one. It was her.

Sis.

Once again she was all glammed up from head to toe, though instead of being out on a date with her husband, she seemed to be enjoying a girls' night out. The three other ladies that walked past the curtain were all quite stunning in their own ways, but he couldn’t take his eye off of Sis.

His staring must not have been as subtle as he hoped it would be, because while the other girls made their way to the back, Sis stopped in her tracks, glancing his way. Oliver stood as still as a statue, not sure exactly what to do in terms of movement.

Thankfully, he didn't have to stay like that for very long. To his utter joy, a smile formed across her beautiful face, showing off her perfect pearly whites. Sis crooked her finger, beckoning him in a come hither motion before disappearing behind the dark curtain. To say she enchanted Oliver was quite an understatement.

Instead of standing around, Oliver hustled to get enough silverware and menus for four ladies. He'd never been more eager to work in his life.

"Hello again~" Sis greeted Oliver with a purr as he entered the private area. "I was hoping you'd be here again tonight."

"Oh? You were?" Oliver asked, feeling his heartbeat ramp up in speed. "Well, I'm really glad to see you again too, Miss!"

The gaggle of ladies all shared a round of playful giggling, like schoolgirls with a secret.

"Awww! You weren't kidding! He's a total sweetie pie!" a fellow redhead chirped.

"So you're the famous Oliver," a brunette with green eyes commented. "Sis has told us so much about you!"

Oliver would be lying if he said he wasn't flattered by that. His stomach was practically doing backflips with the amount of butterflies he was feeling. He wasn't used to such compliments.

"O-Oh! Well, I'm very honored," he smiled. "It's really nice to meet you all!"

His words trailed off after his greeting. He wasn't sure how to get the right words out in order to ask for their names as well, but they all seemed to get the hint as to what he wanted to say.

"Gem."

"Red."

"Babydoll!"

They all have such different names. Very….creative, Oliver thought to himself. It must be a California thing!

He finally felt comfortable enough to perform his job properly once the introductions were done. As per Sis' request, he brought back the same brand of Chardonnay he got her the last time she was there. This time, he was determined not to spill any on their gorgeous outfits. When each glass was equally filled, the girls all clinked their drinks to share a toast.

Oliver put in the same energy when he took their orders. Each lady knew exactly what they wanted, and they cooed at him to hurry back since they'd miss him. It put quite a dopey smile on his boyish face.

Little did he know that his coworkers were watching him with a look of dread in the corners of the restaurant. They all knew the secrets that Sis and her lovers shared. Oliver wasn't ready to see the deadlier side of the brown-eyed beauty.

"You really are too good to us, Ollie," Sis complimented the redhead boy when he set all their entrees down. Even with a table completely covered in the finest Italian cuisine imaginable, she kept her gaze fully locked on him.

Almost like he was the one she found to be the most delicious.

"It's nothing, really! I'm just happy to make up for my wine snafu from last time."

"Speaking of wine," Gem spoke up, taking Sis' chin in between her manicured figures and tilting them in her own direction. "I wanna see if I can taste the Chardonnay on your lips, hun~"

Oliver only got to ponder what she meant for a mere second before getting a shocking answer. Gem pulled her into a deep kiss, moaning softly as both pairs of plush lips pressed together. Without much influence, Sis immediately melted into it, smiling and wrapping her arms around her lady friend.

His green eyes were practically bulging out of his head as the two of them began passionately making out just a mere foot in front of him. Oliver turned towards Red and Babydoll to see if they were just as surprised, but found instead they were looking at him as if he were the odd one. They raised their eyebrows up at him, curious at his gawking.

Perhaps it wasn’t the right time to stick around and just stare with an open mouth like a codfish.

“Y-You ladies enjoy! I’ll be back later!”

Oliver practically kicked up dust behind him from how fast he got out of the private dining section. He had already seen Sis get rather intimate in the restaurant already. But he hadn’t expected to see it between her and someone other than her husband.

Flashbacks of the last time when she made flirty gestures at him while literally riding David were coming back to him. He didn’t understand the behavior fully, but what he was absolutely certain about was how stunning she was. So confident, so beautiful, always knowing exactly what she wanted, yet still showing gratitude when she got it.

It made him ever so curious about whether he truly had a chance with a woman like that. Compared to people like David and Gem? Fat chance, he thought to himself.

Time passed by, and the night was finally winding down. Oliver and his coworkers had split their tips, cleaned up the restaurant, and helped set up for what they needed the next day. In between his tasks, he had stopped in to check on Sis and her friends. They had long since cleared their plates and finished the last sips in their glasses. Yet they seemed to want to stay a bit longer and enjoy some girl time.

So long as it was okay with Giuseppe, Oliver let them be.

By the time everyone else had clocked out and left, he popped his head in one last time to check on them. To his surprise, the three beauties that had come along for the night had already made their leave at some point earlier while he was cleaning up. The one that remained was Sis, sitting pretty in the booth with her fingers intertwined, allowing her chin a place to rest.

She was smiling at him again, a twinkle in her eye as she gestured to the chair placed across from her.

“Care to help me finish off this bottle?” she asked. There wasn’t much left in the second bottle of Chardonnay he had delivered earlier that night, but it was just enough for the two of them to have a little taste. Half a drink wouldn’t kill him.

“Where are the others?” he casually asked as he sat down.

“Oh, they’re outside. Just having a smoke and texting the hubbies.”

Hearing her say that reminded Oliver of David once again. He really wasn’t one to pry, but the curiosity to ask about what kind of relationship Sis had with them all was still there. He would have kept his mouth shut about it if she hadn’t seemed to read his mind on her own.

She pulled her phone out from her purse, maneuvering around the screen until she found what she wanted. Flipping the device around, Sis showed him some pictures of her with various people. Some he recognized, some were unfamiliar faces.

“In case you were wondering, I’m polyamorous. We all are,” she explained. “You’ve met David already. Those three boys are my other husbands. Marko, Dwayne and Paul.”

I didn’t even know you could be married to multiple people in California, Oliver thought to himself. In the first picture, four incredibly handsome men surrounded Sis. Being pansexual himself, Oliver found himself practically swooning at how perfect-looking they all were. As much as he wished to look as hunky as them, he couldn’t blame her for finding all of them attractive.

“They have their own partners too. Some of which I get to date too,” she said, swiping at the screen to show more pictures.

Babydoll being carried by Dwayne, a pregnant Red being held from the back by Marko, Gem and Paul flashing peace signs at the camera, and many more. So many other beautiful ladies were in the arms of these men. It was as if fate had brought the most attractive people in the world together.

“So the other night when you said your ‘girlfriends’, you weren’t just talking about besties, huh?” Oliver playfully commented. To his delight, Sis giggled at him, thoroughly amused. He loved the sound of her laugh. It was as beautiful as her.

“That’s right! And we all have our own families too,” she explained. She pointed out the various babies that various couples had together. Oliver’s heart was melting at the pictures of chubby-cheeked infants with gummy smiles.

One of the final pictures that Sis showed off was a family portrait with her, David, and three little ones. He listened with deep focus as she told the story of her family.

“Laddie is the oldest. I adopted him with Dwayne way back when. He’s also the best big brother to all the others,” she cooed. “The little girl is Eva. My angel on Earth. Her name was inspired by my mother. And that’s Evan. Little mama’s boy in the making, that one.”

“You have a beautiful family, Sis,” Oliver complimented her as he handed back the phone. “I can just tell you’ve got a lot of love for those babies.”

Sis sighed in content, taking a swig of her wine.

“I really do. I don’t know what I’d do without them….”

Though talking about her children seemed to bring her great joy, Oliver couldn’t help but notice there was a lingering sadness in her eyes when she pondered the possibility of life without them. As if that very thing almost happened.

Oliver smiled sympathetically, allowing her to see that he genuinely cared about what she was going through.

“Well….if you ever want to talk about them or anything else on your mind, I’m a good listener! Honest!”

“Thank you, Oliver,” Sis said. She reached out her hand, taking hold of his and giving it a soft squeeze. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

While puffing away on their cigarettes, the three girls kept their eyes peeled for anyone that would possibly cause trouble. The vampires were always on their highest guard whenever they were out with the queen. Ever since the gruesome night of the beheading, they couldn’t risk being too careful.

There was always someone out there wanting to dethrone the vampire king and queen of Santa Carla. They would be damned if they’d let such a thing happen again.

Sis never wanted to leave the cave alone. She wanted a minimum of two mates by her side, one to watch her front, and one to watch her back. The mere idea of dying again put the fear of God in her. She wasn’t ready to go, especially when her babies needed her to get by in this cruel, cold world.

But something was different. New. There was a sense of hope for her now. Someone kind and gentle and ready to care for her every need. The girls saw quite a lot of potential in Oliver. He was a soft boy and a bit too innocent for the life of a vampire, but he made Sis feel safe again. Like she could live her undead life to the fullest.

But it was up to the king about what they would do next.

“So, she really does like him, huh?” David asked, sharing a video call with the three brides.

“She must since she’s been the calmest I’ve ever seen since….you know,” Gem explained.

David tilted his head in wonder as he thought things over. For years now, he and his brothers had collected quite a few brides to have and to hold until the end of time. Each one shaped to their liking and trained to not run away. They all embraced their vampire nature and were loyal as could be.

He hadn’t considered the possibility of adding a groom for the queen.

“I need more time,” he said. “I still hold a lot of pain from what Michael did to me. To our family. Keep an eye on Oliver for me. I’ll stop by during some dates or send one of the boys along. Really make sure he’s right for Sis.”

“You got it,” Red chirped.

“What happens if he gets your approval?” Babydoll asked.

David’s lips pulled back, a devilish smirk stuck on his handsome face. The gears were already turning quite a bit in his evil head.

“Then we bring him home for training. The little wife needs a pet after all~”

end of part 2

Tag List: @ghoulgeousimmaculate @vampirefilmlover @aairadaebak @thelostone91 @palomam18 @crustyboypix @themarginalthinker @britany1997 @michael-after-hours @6lostgirl6 @kurt-nightcrawler @bezinful @legal-lost-boy @american-idiot-jpg @desoolate @oceansrose2002 @bloodywickedvamp @vigdys @charlizekkelly @crustyraccoon

#the lost boys #tlb #party the pain away #female oc #male oc #the lost boys x oc

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xtruss · 3 months

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‘You Become A Traitor And A Bad Jew’: “Illegal Regime of Zionist 🐖 🐷 🐖 Isra-Helli” Anti-War Activists Speak To RT About Their Country’s Actions

Despite the Extremely High Level of Support for the War in Isra-helli Society, Some Isra-hellis Advocate Peace and Condemn their Government

— January 30, 2024 | RT | Elizabeth Blade

For more than 115 days Israel has been fighting in Gaza, in a bid to free its 136 hostages and destroy Hamas, the Islamic militant organization responsible for the October 7 massacre that claimed the lives of more than 1,200 Israelis.

So far, over 26,000 Palestinians have died in the relentless Israeli shelling. Thousands more have been injured. Israel is facing strong international pressure to end the war, but officials in Jerusalem are refusing to budge, while a recent poll indicated that 87% of Israeli Jews support the operation and want it to continue.

Yet, there are also those who refuse to follow the majority view. RT spoke to two representatives of the so-called anti-war bloc, which is calling for an end to Israel’s occupation. Gaia Dan is a 23-year-old Jewish student originally from Haifa in northern Israel. Dr. Salim Abbas is an Arab Geologist. Both are concerned about the route Israel is taking, and have been resorting to demonstrations to change the reality.

‘There Is No Justification For The Murdering of Innocent Civilians’

RT: First of all, how did the events of October 7 impact you? What was your reaction?

Dan: I was at my place in Be’er Sheba, where I am renting an apartment for my studies. I had just come back from Canada and I was really sick. Suddenly the alarms went off and I was too sick and confused to understand what was going on. Only after two hours of alarms did I realize what was happening and went down to the neighborhood shelter. At the time they said there was an infiltration of terrorists... no one in my vicinity understood the magnitude of the incident. The next day I returned to Haifa and started to slowly realize what had actually occurred. At that moment what I felt was mainly great pain. We knew it would happen someday, because there is a limit to how much you can belittle and how arrogant you can be when it comes to Gaza, but the pain was enormous, the pain for the innocents who died and those who would die later.

Abbas: The events of October 7 surprised us all, and especially me, I did not believe that Palestinian freedom fighters could commit such atrocities and descend to such a disgusting and painful level as the behavior of the occupation army and the fascist settlers. I believed in a just struggle of an entire people living under continuous humiliation, oppression and murder but there is no justification for the murdering of innocent civilians.

On October 7, I was on my way to a Palestinian village in the occupied territories (near Qalqilya), where we were supposed to pick olives with Jewish friends. But the news did not stop pouring in. Even now, with after more than 105 days, the magnitude of the tragedy and the failure – due to which I lost good friends, and some are still kidnapped – have not been determined yet.

‘This Is Pure Revenge’

RT: What promoted you to take this path of demonstrating against the war?

Dan: When October 7 happened, I was in no hurry to leave the house with chants of protest. I believed there was still a chance for negotiations. But as time passed, and the bodies in Gaza piled up, I realized that it is not in our culture to negotiate; we only understand the militant language. They slaughtered us so we will slaughter them back. This is pure revenge.

But I’m not ready for them to act on my behalf. I am not ready for them to ignore the big picture of why the events of October 7 took place. I’m not ready for people to be massacred, or settlements inside our outside the Green Line to be erected. Not ready for them to lie that what they are doing is for our security.

Plus, I have an aversion to people who sit on the sidelines and are ready to watch the world burn. I don’t have this privilege.

Gaia Dan, Anti-war Activist Participating in a Demonstration Demanding the End of the Operation in Gaza. Haifa, January 20, 2024

Abbas: I am a social activist and coordinator of a group of citizens against crime, which brought me to be at the heart of the current storm... I am not used to sitting on the fence as a citizen. What has been happening in recent years, the madness and the destruction caused by the fascist right-wing government hurts me. So as a citizen who has a dream and a vision for a reformed and equal democratic state for all its citizens, I wanted to act. This impulse comes from my parents, who were born in an uprooted village called Maalul (5km west of Nazareth), and I decided to go in the footsteps of my father, pursuing the just struggle that he fought for all his life. I have hope and optimism that it is possible to bring change for the better, that it is possible to build a reformed state that strives to live next to an independent Palestinian state, in peace.

‘We Can Only Dream of Raising The Flag of Palestine 🇵🇸’

RT: How freely can you actually protest? We are not seeing these protests that often...

Dan: Even before October 7 it was difficult to demonstrate. It was tough to raise Palestinian flags. We made countless attempts to do so during protests, but it all boiled down to the mood of the police officers. Sometimes our flags were taken away, sometimes we were arrested. Sometimes they were less violent and sometimes more. But we did manage to negotiate and even reach some understandings with the police – for example small Palestinian flags were indeed allowed.

Then came October 7, and now we can only dream of raising the flag of Palestine. Any attempt to demonstrate against the war is brutally dismantled, whether it is in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem or Haifa. Gagging is everywhere. They tell you that the war is justified, that Israel didn’t have a choice. When you try to protest against it, you become a traitor, a bad Jew or an anti-Semite. Your opinions become irrelevant.

On Saturday we staged a demonstration after going through the High Court of Justice. There, too, the police were present. They checked each of our banners. Such words as “Massacre” or “Palestine” serve as a trigger for them, and prompt them to act violently. So we constantly need to think in what language and what exactly we will write on our banners so that they don’t take them away from us.

Police violence is a big problem for us, simply because people don’t want to leave the house, fearing they will be arrested or beaten up. Another issue is that the police remember you so if you happen to be a prominent activist in Haifa, you end up living with a constant feeling of political persecution. It frightens people, so this intimidation works.

Abbas: It has always been problematic to demonstrate against the occupation and its injustices, but in recent months the situation has worsened in the face of the political persecution of Arab and Jewish activists and the prohibition of demonstrations and protests against the massacre and the extermination of the people of Gaza.

We are facing more and more restrictions through the threats of the police and the Shin Ben [Israel’s internal security agency - ed.] – something that I have experienced myself. I can say that for the first time I felt fear and despair, something that brought me back to the period of martial law that was imposed on the Arab community within the country [from 1949 till 1966 - ed.], a period which included suppression, arrests and political persecution. Yet, these things only prompt us to go on and swim against the current. They make us strengthen our humane position against a mentality that sanctifies the horrific circle of blood.

Salim Abbas: A Palestinian Anti-war Activist.

“Zionist 🐖 🐷 🐖 Terrorist Isra-hell” Wants Its Citizens To Be Violent

RT: Israel prides itself on its flourishing mass media that provides a platform for all opinions. Would you agree with this? And what do you think of Israel’s education system and the set of values it gives?

Dan: Only two local media outlets gave me the platform to express myself – Sikha Mekomit and Haaretz. Others don’t invite me. The media is mobilized for the war effort. We are being hidden because they don’t want to show that there are other options. They don’t want to show that people like me exist.

They are talking about the de-Nazification of Gaza but what about de-Nazification here? Listen to how people here are talking, they are calling for mass extermination, and this is exactly what they see in the news.

As for our education system. Israeli society is militant because we are in the mindset that everyone wants to kill us. People grow up on this ideology, in schools they pump you the narrative that everyone is against you so it gives you an existential dread.

We are a society where the discourse is violent. Your success in life is measured by what you did during your military service, and how combative you were. Israel wants its citizens to be violent. Of course, I can blame the education system and the media for the current mess, but the truth is that they are only tools in the hands of the government.

Abbas: State media tries to ignore the sane voice that fights for peace, equality and social justice for all citizens.

As for education, the problem is that the majority of Israeli society is militant. It comes from an education that is built on a militaristic mentality that raises generations of fighting machines and not normal human beings. This mentality is based on fear and terror while cynically exploiting the issue of the Holocaust and the concentration camps. It can thereby turn the young people into murder and hatred machines for anyone who opposes their spirit.

RT: Do you think the events of October 7 changed things for the worse?

Dan: I think that every incident of terror or violent resistance in which innocent people are involved changes Israeli society for the worse. What happened on October 7 was not an exception. Just like violent acts before, it brought out the demons in 90 percent of Israelis including in those who were initially supportive of peaceful solutions to the conflict, and following the events ditched that path.

Abbas: Such events always succeed in changing Israeli society for the worse because most of the citizens are led as a herd and the establishment media concentrates all its efforts in transmitting disinformation in favor of the government which has failed in the simplest task: to secure its own citizens. Let’s not forget that similar events on a smaller scale – such as Hamas’ suicide attacks from 1996 onwards – led to the radicalization of Israeli public opinion and resulted in the right-wing government and Bibi’s Likud coming to power [reference to Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu - ed.].

Unfortunately, the victims of Hamas have become the fig leaf of the Israeli occupation. They are now used by the Israeli government to incite the world public opinion and divert it from the daily injustices of the occupation.

‘Salvation Will Not Come From The Zionist Terrorist 🐖 🐖 🐖 Cunts Jews’

RT: Do you think a change is possible? What needs to happen for it to occur?

Dan: I do believe in change but for it to take place, it requires a reset of Israeli society as we know it. It requires us ditching the notion of a Jewish and democratic state because if you define yourself as Jewish, you cannot be democratic towards non-Jews; and it requires a lot of international pressure that will force Israel to reach a compromise.

For me, one thing is certain: salvation will not come from the Jews, the ones who will eventually end the occupation and bring about a revolution will be the Palestinian people themselves. What I can do as a Jew is to spur it on, speed it up and push it in every possible way as I am doing now.

Abbas: I do believe that the situation will change for the better despite the difficulty and madness that rages around us.

The road is still long but what prompts me and my partners in this struggle is the belief that we are fighting for future generations, for the sake of young men and women who deserve a bright and just future.

It seems that many things need to be done for us to reach that goal. First of all, is the establishment of a left wing, Arab-Jewish democratic bloc that will unite all human rights organizations, movements and parties. Then, later on, it will expand and grow stronger until it becomes a true partner in a government coalition. Such a development can also involve a serious ambition from political parties to design a constitution for the country through a referendum that can guarantee full rights and equality for all citizens.

— By Elizabeth Blade, RT Middle East Correspondent

#Feature #Illegal Regime of the Terrorist Zionist 🐖 🐖 🐷 Cunts #The Bastard Child of the United States 🇺🇸 and the West 🇪🇺#Terrorist Satan-Yahu #Forever Palestine 🇵🇸#Gaza #Gaza Strip #Gaza Genocide #RT

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cosmicpearlz · 1 year

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well-kept secrets

summary: having a crush is one thing but having a crush on your co-worker? a totally different kind of feeling.

pairing: percy hynes white x actress!reader

…………………………………………………………………………….

percy knew that the minute you walked into the room for the first time, he was going to fall for you. the show that you guys were working on was a romantic drama. it’s set in new york city and it follows a boy named evelyn (your character) who swore to never fall in love due to past family issues until she meets oliver (percy’s character).

the boy was nervous when he walked up to your door. you guys decided to rent rooms in the same apartment complex that way it was easier to just travel together for work. the two of you were going to be hanging out to read the next scene that was to be filmed and he didn’t want to show up empty handed. so he walked down to the cafe that you guys called ‘the hot spot’ and picked up your favorite stuff, along with getting something for himself.

“y/n, i uh got your favorite drink and a pastry from our spot,” percy hands you the warm cup as you stood by the door. you took it with a bright smile, a smile that makes him melt inside.

“our spot, huh?” you stepped aside to let him come into the apartment. the boy’s face warms up with the realization that he called the cafe that.

“sorry, i just meant that because we found-“

“percy! i’m just teasing you. thank you for this,” you cut him off from his rambling and reached to kiss his cheek. percy knew that he was definitely blushing at this point.

“right right. i knew that. ready to run the lines?”

“hell yeah! i’m excited to see what was next for our story.” the word our falling gracefully out of your mouth sent him into a spiral. he wished to be with you officially but he’d never want to ruin the friendship you guys built. plus you were his co-worker which made the situation trickier.

“perc?”

“huh?” he looks up from his shoes to your concerned face.

“you okay?”

“yeah just um tired that’s all.” you nodded your head at him and motioned him to follow you to the couch. you sit with your legs folded on the seat while percy puts one of legs under the other leg. turning towards each other, you guys get ready to run the lines.

“where did you want to start y/n?”

“let’s do the very beginning! i haven’t gotten a chance to read that yet.”

percy’s eyes scan the page to get a brief view of what the scene was. it was a fight scene between both characters. it ended with a confession and a kiss. his eyes widened reading that he had to kiss you.

running the scene was no problem but as soon as it came to the kiss, percy backed away. leaving you guys to keep restarting and you were getting frustrated with him.

“percy, if you don’t want to kiss me just say that! we’ve been doing the same scene for hours.”

“no it’s not that.”

“then what is it?” he opened his mouth to speak but instantly closed it. he couldn’t tell you the real reason because he felt it’ll change everything and not in a good way.

“it’s nothing.” you scoffed at him and turned your head to look at the wall.

“you’re lying.”

“no, seriously it’s- it’s nothing y/n.”

“i think we should call it a night. i’ll see you later, yeah?”

“okay,” percy whispered and stood up to collect his things.

once he had everything he needed, he offered an awkward wave to you while you stayed seated on the couch, leaving out the front door. when he closed the door behind him, he took a second to lean his back onto it and sigh quietly to himself. the whole crush on a co-worker thing was gonna be harder than he thought.

you felt bad for getting upset with percy. so you woke up a bit earlier to stop by the cafe to pick up some treats for him. you decided to wait for him in his trailer since you guys already established that it was okay to just walk into each other’s trailer. you’re as quiet as a mouse when percy walked in. he looks up from his phone and physically jumps back making you laugh.

“what the fuck! you scared the shit out of me.”

“sorry, i just wanted to bring you some treats from our spot. i wanted to apologize for last night.” still with heavy breathing, he shakes his head at your words.

“there’s no reason to apologize.”

“yes there is percy. i was a little mean and i’m sorry.” percy walks up to you and wraps his around your shoulders.

“it’s okay, if anything i should be sorry. i was the one who was fucking up.”

“happens to the best of us,” your eyes meet his and he feels the world stop. percy finds himself in a trance within your eyes, so beautiful and soft is how he would describe it. the secret was getting harder to keep. removing his arms from you, he takes a step back and goes to the pasty box.

“i hope you got the good stuff.”

“oh you know i got the good stuff,” you both shared a laugh before digging in to the box. small moments like this is what he liked most about working with you but more importantly what he liked about you.

“guys i need you to give me your rawest emotion. think of you actually building up the courage to tell someone you love them. make it real!” the director gave you guys some encouragement getting ready to film.

“and action!”

the scene

“oliver can’t keep running from me.”

“watch me. i don’t want to deal with this,” percy walks away from you and you rush to grab his arm just as the script said to.

“tell me one good reason why.”

“no.”

“tell me the reason oliver.” he turns to glance at you and percy gets lost. your eyes had him trapped again and he thought you looked beautiful with the water running down your face to act as the rain for the scene.

“because i fucking love you y/n and i’m trying so hard not to fall for you but here we are. you told me not to fall in love, so please let me go.”

“cut! we have to reshoot this.”

percy’s face paled at the realization he said your name. your name and not the character you played. taking one look at your face was all he needed to leave. your jaw was dropped and eyes widened. he was fucked at this point and needed a way out.

“i’m sorry, i have to go.” percy let’s his feet guide him back to his trailer quiet and quickly.

opening the door, he slammed it shut and locked it. the boy felt his eyes water thinking he had lost a friend. he went and made it weird which was the opposite of what he wanted to do. he thought that he could ignore his feelings for you and by the time filming was done everything would be okay.

“percy? i know you’re in there. let’s talk about this.” you knocked on the trailer door and the tears in his eyes fell down.

“y/n, just leave. it’s embarrassing enough,” he replied in a choked voice.

“let me in. please.”

percy huffed and moved to unlock the door. once you heard the lock click, you opened it to find the boy in tears.

“i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable fuck. i- i swear i didn’t mean to do that,” his lip trembling trying to keep the tears at bay.

“did you mean it?”

“what?” he looked up from his hands to meet your eyes.

“did you mean it? did you mean what you said back there?”

“yes,” he said with a low whisper and looked away from you once more.

you close the distance between you guys and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. leaning on your toes and turning his head towards you, you placed a delicate kiss on his lips. he swore his heart started beating faster.

“what was that for?”

“i’m in love with you too silly. that’s why i was upset last night thinking that you didn’t want to kiss me,” your words fell on his lips while you bring a hand to wipe the tears that adored his cheeks.

“so i didn’t make you uncomfortable?”

“heavens no! i’m really happy right now even though we’re both soaked with water from head to toe,” sharing a laugh together, he kisses your temple.

“where do we go from here?”

“well i was hoping you’d say the magic words,” you catch your bottom lip in between your teeth to hide the grin you had.

“y/n, will you be my girlfriend?”

“hmm i dunno.” he smiles down at you still holding onto your waist.

“the anticipation is killing me here.”

“i have decided that i’d love to be your girlfriend!”

“yeah?” he looks in your eyes before his eyes drift down to your lips.

“yeah.” this time he initiates kiss and pushes you closer to him. percy felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he could finally breathe.

“guys we really need to reshoot the scene!” your stage manger calls out to you both making you break the kiss.

“c’mon babe, we got a scene to shoot.” placing once last kiss on your cheek, he grabs your hand leading you back to set. he couldn’t be more happier than he was right now.

#percy hynes white x reader #percy hynes white x actress!reader #percy hynes white fluff #percy hynes white angst #actress!reader #percy hynes white

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trin-gvf · 1 year

Text

oliver fucking reed.

3.5k words minors DNI

oliver reed x fem!reader

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, oral sex (fem receiving), mentions of drinking

pls let me know if i miss any! <3

kind of an AU where instead of josh, oliver is jake's twin! :)

you were over at jake's house, lounging around on his couch, watching tv when he came inside.

"y/n?? what the fuck?? how did you get in i-"

"you don't hide your spare key very well. in the planter? by the door? yeah. real fucking original jacob." you rolled your eyes.

you'd been friends with jake since god knows when, you both knew neither of you meant any harm with the words you spoke.

"i'm going to make you start paying rent." he groaned, setting down the loads of grocery bags he came in with.

"oh well. can't get rid of me that easy." you laughed, walking over to the bags and looking into a couple.

"what has your panties in a twist? you look like you have 5 kids and a mini van." you asked, looking him up and down.

he sighed as he kicked his shoes off, not really caring where they landed.

"oliver is coming into town." he said, running a hand through his hair.

oliver was jake's twin, he was a cocky son of a bitch. he always had a drink in one hand and a cigar in the other. and the god awful british accent. it was obviously fake, you nor jake had known where it came from or where he had adapted it.

"aw fuck! what for? it's not christmas or thanksgiving and you're not having a party-" you got interrupted as you listed off possibilities of why he'd show up so abruptly.

"literally no idea. he called me today while i was at daniel's and said, quote 'get ready, brother. we're gunna fuckin' party' and told me he'd be here tonight." jake rolled his eyes, thinking about his brother.

"tonight?!" your eyes widened and groaned.

oliver was annoying. with the accent, the beard, the liquor, the cigar, all of it. but what made him all the more impossible to be around is how he thinks he's somehow better than jake. he changed his last name from kiszka to reed a couple years back.

he did so, thinking it'd suit him more due to the 'hellraiser' life he claimed to have. just like the real oliver reed from way back when.

"yes, tonight. now don't just stand there. help me get ready!" jake shooed you into his bedroom.

jake would always have you help him get ready when the insatiable soul known as oliver would be coming around. oliver would knit pick at anything and everything just to annoy his brother.

"okay, red or black?" jake asked, holding up two button up shirts.

you looked between the two, listing the pros and cons of each within your mind.

"black." you answered, watching him hurry to put it on.

it was already 5pm and you knew oliver would be arriving soon.

you groaned, getting off of jake's bed and walked into the closet to hurry jake up.

"hurry up! he's going to be here soon."

"i know, i know! i just don't know what else to pair with outfit i mean-"

you cut him off, shoving him to the side. you rummaged through his walk-in closet to find what you needed.

"ah perfect!" you exclaimed, holding two items up.

"put these on." you said, handing him black jeans that cut off right above his ankle.

"and then put these on, after that roll your sleeves up a bit and you'll have a good outfit." you said, handing him the pants and pair of chelsea boots.

he nodded and you walked out to give him privacy to change.

just as you sat back down on jake's couch, the door was being seemingly abused with knocks.

"oh shit. here we go." you mumbled under your breath.

you walked up to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it.

oliver was on the other side, booze in one hand and some cigar in the other. as usual.

"oliver." you said, stepping to the side to allow him in.

"what a pleasure! getting greeted by y/n herself. how are you, darling?" he said, walking in, you closing the door behind him. his voice was thick, deeper than jake's.

"fine. i see you finally shaved your scraggly beard." you allowed yourself to scoff at the end of your sentence.

"well, love, i think i look fucking hot. wouldn't you say?" he asked, rubbing his shaved face.

"hate to break it to you, oliver, but i could care less." you said, looking him in the eye.

"so you say. where is jake?" he asked, looking around, unbuttoning his vest and throwing it on the couch.

"his room. i'll grab him." you said, walking off down the hallway.

you opened jakes door, seeing him rolling up his sleeves and taking a once-over in the mirror.

"he's here." you said with a big breath in, faking a smile.

"great," he said walking out of the room, stopping in the door frame.

"let's go then, shall we?" he asked, you giving a nod.

you both walked out, seeing oliver looking around in the kitchen.

"ah! there he is!" oliver said, greeting his brother with a half hug, oliver's cigar now placed somewhere within the kitchen.

"hi, oliver. how was your trip?"

"fine, other than ladies throwing themselves at me." he said, giving a chuckle.

a short silence was shared before he spoke up again.

"oh who am i kidding?! i fuckin' love it!" he laughed, taking his sunglasses off.

he looked jake up and down, taking in his appearance.

"didn't try too hard i see. maybe next time." oliver said, smirking at his already irritated brother.

jake shot a small glance at you, as if it was saying 'i thought you said this was good!?'

you rolled your eyes as oliver spoke up yet. again.

"alright! let's get this thing going. invite the boys over. y/n, got any friends?" he asked, winking at you.

"the last thing i need is you fucking my friends oliver, nice try though." you said, rolling your eyes.

"because you want it all for yourself? greedy girl."

"fuck off, oliver." you complained, walking away to text sam.

jake texted daniel and within 30 minutes both of the boys were over, greeting oliver.

"daniel boy! 's been forever! hasn'it?" he spoke, his phony british accent kicking into overdrive.

"not long enough…" you heard danny mutter under his breath before greeting oliver with a fake smile.

it was easy to say no one truly enjoyed oliver's presence. he was cocky, loud and annoying. he somehow had endless stories of how girls would basically beg him to fuck them. it got old rather quick.

you were all outside now, the sun had begun to set and jake just pulled out the chicken and beef he was going to cook.

you knew this event would follow far into the hours of the morning due to jake cooking so late, but you didn't mind. you liked staying up with the boys and talking about whatever came to your minds.

although you did enjoy these moments, this one might not have been your favorite due to the noisey man who was sitting next to you. one moment you were sitting drinking a beer at a table on jake's patio and the next oliver made himself comfortable in the seat next to you.

"hello, darling." he spoke straight into your ear.

"personal space. ever heard of it?" you asked in annoyance, scooting your chair away from his.

"playing hard to get. i like your games, sweetheart." he said, you didn't even have to look at him to hear the smirk on his face.

"it might be surprising to you, but not every female wants to suck your dick! crazy, right?!" you said in a faux surprised voice.

"mmm…don't think i don't see through your little attitude." he said, his hand now coming up to gently touch your face, making you look at him.

your breath got caught in your throat as he did so. his hand was so warm compared to the nights air nipping at the apples of your cheeks.

"i'll get to you. mark my words."

and with that, he took his cane and walked off to pester his brother at the grill.

it took you a while to comprehend what you felt. you'd always found oliver undeniably annoying. what had changed within the last couple hours? minutes, even.

you were in your own little bubble when jake popped up with a plate of food for you.

"here, tell me what you think."

it had small pieces of chicken and beef that had just gotten done cooking. you tried both, giving a 'mmm!' when you had tasted it.

"that's really good, jake!" you exclaimed, finishing the last piece on the plate.

"thank you, thank you," he laughed, giving a small bow.

"can you go get everyone from inside? it's time to eat."

you nodded, getting up as jake walked back to the grill.

you opened the sliding glass door, peaking your head in to see oliver, sam and danny conversing in the kitchen.

"c'mon guys! time to eat!"

everyone smiled, giving 'ooo!'s and 'finally!'s. after everyone grabbed their plate and what they wanted to eat, they took their places at the round shaped table.

you were across from jake with oliver next to you.

you were listening to danny talk about new drumsticks he got, he sounded rather excited about it. you felt bad when your attention was gripped away by oliver placing a hand on your thigh.

you gulped, darting your eyes around to see if anyone noticed, which they didn't. you placed your hand on top of his, trying to push it away.

when his grip only got tighter to your thigh, you gave in.

you didn't mind it, in all honesty, you were just scared jake would see.

oliver got more cocky as the night went on, knowing he had you wrapped around his fingers.

hours went by excruciatingly long, feeling like days. danny and sam had left about an hour or so ago, now it was just you, jake and oliver sitting at the table.

they were now fighting over some stupid childhood memories.

"i'll always come out on top jake! because guess what! i'm oliver fucking reed."

"your last name isn't even reed! it's kiszka! it just sounds dumb!" jake babbled. you couldn't deny that this was all too amusing to you. you'd giggle every now and then when jake would seem to get too heated.

"i even came out first!" oliver retorted, laughing at jake.

"5 minutes! 5! fucking! minutes!" jake yelled. you were surprised the entire neighborhood hadn't woken up.

"you will never live it down, jacob! haha!" oliver almost declared in celebration.

you started to shiver, realizing how cold it had gotten after 2:30.

you got up, going inside to grab a blanket.

"where are you going?" jake asked, stopping his sentence to see what you were doing.

"just going inside to get a blanket. it's cold." you informed jake.

jake sighed, getting out of his seat.

"it's okay, i'm going to bed anyways. it's late as fuck."

you nodded, hugging him goodnight.

"are you staying over?"

"yeah, i don't wanna drive home so late." you replied to jake.

"okay, y/n, you take the guest room. oliver, you take the couch." jake said, walking into the house.

you paid no attention to the man behind you, walking into the house. you mentally cursed at yourself realizing you had no pajamas to change into.

you walked into jake's room, seeing him looking for comfy clothes himself.

"i don't have pajamas." you looked down at your clothes while talking to jake.

"i figured, here."

he handed you some clothes, which you returned a 'thank you'.

you headed to the bathroom and quickly changed. the shirt was baggy on you but the pants fit well, seeing jake was close to the same waist size as you.

you walked down the hallway, going into the guest room. the bed was made nice and the room smelled like cedar wood. it smelled like jake, something you always found comforting.

you took the pants off as you didn't sleep with pants on, they always made you uncomfortable.

you tried to get comfortable in the bed, but it was no use. you turned and flipped in bed, yet, you felt wide awake. you couldn't help but think of oliver's actions just even 30 minutes ago. the way his hand felt warm against your thigh. how he would "accidentally" go too far up and ghost over your most hidden bits.

the way when no one was looking, he'd drink you in like his most expensive whiskey. even the way he simply said your name, followed with a 'darling'.

you threw the blankets off of you, not caring to put pants on. you knew for a fact jake was asleep and oliver seemed so drunk that he would pass out the second his head hit the couch.

as you opened the door, a wave of cigar smoke and jack daniels mixed with expensive cologne hit your nose. you almost yelled when you saw oliver standing there, his hand about to knock on the door.

"what the fuck are you doing here?!" you whisper yelled, not wanting to wake jake up.

"don't act like you couldn't sleep. what were you thinking of?" his voice was covered in something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

he was softly walking into the room, pushing you back into it.

you couldn't speak, scared your voice would betray you.

"cmon, pretty girl. tell me. what do you want?" his hand was now on your chin as he shut the door behind him.

"you." your voice barely croaked out.

never in a million years did you think you let oliver see you in a light like this. what magic spell did he cast upon you to make you need him more than ever?

you were supposed to find him annoying, excruciatingly hard to be around, redundant. yet, here you were finding yourself with your body wrapped around his.

"i think i've cracked the code. i just had to get in that pretty little mind of yours." he spoke, his words going straight to your core.

next thing you knew, you were falling back onto the bed. oliver looked rather good.

his button up shirt was undone just 2 or 3 buttons, just enough to see his chest shining through. his hair was framing his face perfectly and his newly shaven face wasn't something you were going to protest against.

he nudged his knee between your legs, spreading them for him. his knee brushed against your clothed clit, earning the smallest whine out of you.

you didn't know what it was. maybe the buzz from the beers, maybe because it was a full moon, maybe even the air around you. you just couldn't get enough of him.

his hands traveled down your stomach, softly lifting your shirt up, placing a hand on your breast. he massaged one while he kissed the other, softly sucking purple and red marks into it.

he took one nipple into his mouth, softly rubbing his thumb over the other one.

"oliver, please-"

"shush, no need to rush, now do we darlin'?" he interrupted you.

he sat up, letting his hands fall down to the band of your underwear. he dipped his thumbs in, pulling them to your legs, which you then kicked off.

his breath hitched, seeing your cunt in all its glory.

"ravishing." was all he said before diving into it.

you let out a rather loud whine, pushing up into his face. which was greeted by none other than a small smack to your thigh.

"better be quiet, wouldn't want our jakey to hear you. especially with me." he smirked, going back into your cunt.

a hand went into his unruly hair, messing it up all the more further. you pushed up against his face, letting him have whatever he could ever want or need.

he took your thighs, digging his fingernails into them. you bit your lip, trying your best to quiet yourself. never would you have expected him to be so fucking good with let alone his tongue.

sure, he's told many stories where he's gloated about having multiple other women cum within seconds. yet, you never believed them to be true.

the room was filled with many sinful sounds such as oliver's wet noises from going down on you and your stifled cries.

"fuck oliver- i need- oh my god!" you whisper cried, arching your back off the bed.

"let it go, love." he said, coo-ing you into an orgasm.

your body shook and jerked as oliver slowed down, gently pulling you down from your high.

he pulled away, licking his lips of the orgasm that had made a mess on his face.

you were blushing beyond belief. your head was dizzy, your skin was probably burning to the touch and you just needed more.

"so pretty. so fuckin' pretty." he growled as he unbuckled his belt. the clinging of the metal of his belt was enough to turn you on even more.

knowing what was to come made you feel like a wild animal.

the look in his eyes as he pushed away his boxers and pants could've made you cum untouched.

it was pure lust. all for you.

the second your eyes laid on his cock, you couldn't wait. your mouth watered and your cunt clenched around nothing. you didn't notice how long you'd been staring until oliver spoke up.

"now, are you going to keep staring or do i get the honor of fucking you dumb?" his voice was dark, it sounded like your favorite song.

"i need you." was all you muttered out before oliver climbed atop of you once again. this time, he slid his cock through your folds, allowing it to circle around your clit.

you jerked your body towards him, simply needing to be filled.

"never expected you to be so fuckin' dirty. innocent little y/n." he smirked.

"never have i been innocent, oliver. i just didn't thirst over your cock every chance i got." you barked at him.

"then should i not give it to you darling? should i let you lay here in your own wetness, wishing i'd fuck you dumb? hm? would you like that?"

your mind went blank as the words fell out of his mouth. that was the last thing you'd need.

after not being able to answer, he chuckled.

"that's what i thought," he smirked, pushing his cock into you.

you gasped, biting into his clothed shoulder. you took it upon yourself to unbutton his shirt, throwing it off. he was so warm, he was just what you needed.

when his shirt came off, he started to fuck into you. he was hitting spots no other man had ever hit.

"oh fuck!" you tried to be quiet, but it came out a little louder than you'd like.

oliver covered your mouth, giving you a look, saying such as 'shut the fuck up'.

you bit into his finger, breathing hard through your nose.

he groaned above you as you squeezed around him.

"best pussy- i've ever fucking- felt…" he said through breaths.

you ground down your hips onto oliver's cock. you were both so close to snapping, so close to experiencing the oh so beloved feeling.

"give it up, don't hold back." he ordered, feeling close himself.

you took a hand and drew small circles onto your clit. it was just enough to send you spiraling into a god forsaken euphoria.

oliver himself was experiencing his own bliss. his head had fell forward, mouth hung slack, hair falling down into his face as he allowed his cum to make a mess within your walls.

when you came back down from your pleasurable journey, you let go of oliver's finger. you almost felt bad for the possible bruising that would happen to it later.

"holy shit." was all he said as he pulled out, laying next to you.

"i need a fuckin' drink after that.." oliver laughed.

you rolled your eyes.

"i think you'd have a drink anyway." you laughed back.

you pulled your shirt down, covering yourself up with your blankets. oliver didn't care to move.

you both fell into a sleep after that, not caring what consequences were to come.

waking up the next morning, oliver wasn't at your side as he was the night before. you put the pants jake had gave you and walked into the kitchen.

you saw jake and oliver bickering once again. you couldn't tell what they were fighting over, most likely something brought up from a childhood story or maybe who does better at a certain subject.

"good morning, y/n. sleep well?" jake asked as he handed you a cup of coffee. you said thank you as jake stopped in his tracks.

"what's that?" jake said, pointing to oliver's neck, furrowing his eyebrows.

"went out last night and had a good time. unlike you, jacob. going to bed so early."

"it was 2:30am! what the fuck do you mean?!" jake yelled.

you took a deep breath, knowing you were safe from jake knowing this secret you planned on taking to the grave with you.

oliver soon left, but not before sneakily handing you his number.

the note read 'if you ever need any help ;)"

taglist: @jakes-eyebrows

#greta van fleet #gvf #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #jake #sammy #danny #greta van fleet smut #sammy kiszka smut #danny wagner smut #joshua kiszka #josh gvf #jake gvf #danny gvf #sammy gvf #jake kiszka smut #oliver fucking reed #oliver reed #oliver reed smut

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m0use-brained · 6 months

Text

my (super)ordinary life!

as some might know its about two college boys renting an apartment together(by chance) and dealing with the ghost of a Victorian boy who was murdered by his nanny. the story follows the protagonist Xavier who is a "realist" and skeptic and doesnt believe in ghosts at all. his roommate on the other hand dallas is a firm believer and a medium. the little Victorian kid Arch whos trying to get the attention of xavier due to him looking so much like his best friend in life falls short in doing so through little antics. The two go through college with unexplainable things happening(well dallas tries to tell xavier its the ghost with xavier not believing him) until xavier has enough of bad things happening and finally folds and lets dallas do whatever he needed. they go through alot to finally talk to arch(buying equipment is hard when your in college) and THEN try to solve the mystery of who killed arch, to let him feel at peace and not restless anymore

Government kids??? no name yet- haeaawdjhnThree kids (17 yr old girl, 14 yr old boy and 10 yr old boy) who are all siblings to this last group of people with magical powers end up loosing their parents due to the new government that was implemented recently. But the world for like more then a hundred years now have passed their reign over magic. now magic is only within their brightly colored hair and eyes(bald ppl dont exist). Along with some people having animalistic qualities and other- fanstay qualities. they are still so very human in the aspects of no one has magical powers but they have some extra points towards things like strength if they were a werewolf or something. (they dont change under a full moon they are stuck in the half furry state). anyways. the three kids end up trying to not get captured by the government running all over the place. they go to highschool for a time, then make friends and go to the friends house. a friend dies. some within family drama happens and the oldest sibling fights with the middle child. the oldest gets captured first. the two other siblings go with their owl caretaker(who barely shows up within the story). the youngest seems not to happy with this and escapes to a village somehow untouched by the government and learn about his herritage(somewhat hes like 10). oldest goes through hell to escape and find the middle child and the youngest. turns out hte owl turned the middle kid into the government and winter finding out oliver isnt with the middle she saves the middle and then says a brisk apology as she is on the hunt to find her baby brother. tension between winter and rodger rise but winter is preoccupied with saving oliver. oliver makes frineds with this young girl and her dad and those two help oliver go into the biggest city to try and find winter and rodger. winter and rodger are one step behind as they get into the village. rodger finds out about their family but winter couldnt care less as she is tiredlessly trying to find oliver. its way to much i know and i left out funny goofy government villans that are clear ripoffs of team rocket but in my own funny way...

Super hero esk story?? idk i called it Switcheroo but thats kinda silly.the protagonist is the top villan's son who goes into the top hero school. (the mom sees how influcened he is to do crime but wants the best life for him. she wants him to choose after also being influenced by what their society deems as noble and good) Zero(protag) dorms with a girl(filing mess up) who is the daughter of number 1 heroic(hero system is different here too) bull's eye. on the news they find out the 3rd heroic on the ranking chart gets kidnapped by zero's mom??? and zero goes to talk with her about it as hes grown attached to the girl he dorms with and saw how upset she'd become. the mom denies it and says this was all a publicity stunt from bull's eye to gain more money and fame. zero says to out them. the mom cant. because no one will ever trust the villains. even if they did what would it do. strike fear into people that even hero's are corrupt and evil will always win? they needed to do something. zero tried to tell the girl but she couldnt believe him. they have a fight. zero ends up trying to do everything in his power to make it up to her. humiliating himself infront of the whole school(but he doesnt care). she accepts his apology and makes sure he isnt injured. he does get in trouble but thats not the point. she hears him out and admits to things shes seen as a kid ever since her parents divorced due to money problems. the premise is they have to take down the two top heroics from inside their ogranization or making them quit by them messing up every save. (prank them so hard they quit). (i dont know the ending yet akjwdnajkw) -

The Moon's craters

a bunch of billionares go to the moon(or a planet that looks like the moon whatever man) and colonize there. hundreds of years pass and the world is sci-fi and dystopian esk?? the poor live in slums and the rich live near the sky!. people who live on the moon have adapted to look different. and the story follows one poor boy on the moon. hes loved the moon but hated the system. classic. so one day he sneaks on a ship that travel's to earth. there he's traversing through earth to see if it was better then the moon. in fact it is not. its more- kingdom esk?? ever since a war that happened long ago.(they still have tech and use alot of it they just enjoy the structural build of kingdoms) protag finds a prince(after getting a job as a servant) and tells him about the moon and stuff. the prince is grossed out but interested in the rich people's fashion sense and taste. he agrees to go with. he litterally just runs away with like a shit ton of money and buys himself a ticket to the moon. goes to the moon they find out theres a war gonna happen cause they cauiught the protag "kidnapping" a prince??? protag is wanted. best friend sidekick doesnt give a fuck????:? so they get a trip to a different planet to escape it all. find out they are super underdeveloped and the moon have been taking that planet's orphans for testing!>?!?>! they rescue one orphan from a new shipment of orphans about to be sent out. (thats all i have so far lmao) -

SpaceBoots

this follows like a ground of people going about space. spaceboots SB(hes got big ass boots), SpaceGloves SG(shes got big ass gloves), Chat(robot guy who talks like zane from lego ninjao but has the brain compacity of a twitch chat), Hat(he wears hats idfk), Shirt(wears beeeeeeg shirt. the hyper cute person of the group). Dress(guy who loves fashion) along with shirt's cat Skrible(very poorly drawn cat who uhm... cat) i forgor most of the plot but like SB uses his mom's ship to do random things through out the galazy and goes on quest. something is wrong with the spaceship i think and they have to get new parts on planets they havent ever been through. they find out more about- the mom and other family i think while getting parts from people who seem to know their parents and shit? aughh i loved their characters so much ajshdakjhwd

#MB writes #story ideas mb

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