#she was taking photos in hopes to catch a good enough one to paint

[ca-d]

Hurricane/post tropical cyclone Lee 🌊

[silly-circus]

★SillyString’s story/background★

(Way long overdue lmao and long I’m so sorry guys, also made some edits because I wanted to word some things better)

I want to start off by saying she is me, me is she(Im not sure if I made it clear or not so apologies I’m kinda dumb🫰). I say “her” in my posts instead of “me” because idk it feels right since I make her look differently than I actually do. Even so, we share the same name and I do the clown look all the time when I go out to places that I get an excuse to🧍‍♂️so really it is just me but anyway,,, time to begin! This is my first time actually writing this out so I’m sorry if it’s formatted and explained terribly

First off, Silly String is my persona’s clown name. She came up with it herself, everything else was Pennywise’s idea. She was originally a human, and still looks like one and has the appetite of one(when she changed Pennywise assumed she would want to eat people. He was wrong.) She lived in texas(yee-honk) before moving to Maine literally because she thought “why not?” and ended up in good old Derry. Her life growing up wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t the best. She was always into odd and strange things, or things that most would find creepy(clowns. Love clowns. They’re so cool) so she was kinda outcasted from others at a young age but soon people learned to just let her live in peace which of course she was happy about. She did manage to make some friends, solidarity. After moving, she continued pursuing freelance photography and painting, but her full time job is as a barista in a local coffee shop(wow, how interesting💀).

The way that she met Pennywise was kinda stupid. All she was doing was taking photos of the local wildlife and next thing you know a kid is running by before she notices a fucking weird ass clown creature from hell charging straight towards her(she still snapped a photo before running). He does catch up to her and jumps her. How she managed to not get away, but the kid did, don’t ask me. She survived, her camera unfortunately did not(he gets her a new one eventually guys trust).

since then, they kept bumping into each other. He does try to kill her again but she kept managing to escape him(pissed him off more and more each time) but soon enough he starts to chill out and basically decides to learn more about her. The more she realized he was going to not continuously try eat her every time he visited she would start asking him questions about who he was as an entity and where he came from. It does start out as a weird friendship where he would mess with her at work or appear out of literally no where to hang around. He does start to enjoy her company and watching her do normal, human things since her doing it made it seem entertaining. After a while of slowly getting closer and closer they become loving parters yay(she was still human at this time).

Fast forward and they get “married” which they really call their “eternal binding.” Basically what it means is that she became a part of him. As in if he dies, she dies. She unfortunately didn’t gain any cool shape shifting and such, she just gets to live and thrive as long as he does. When it first happened she was having a hard time with it simply because she’s going to outlive everyone she knows and will continue to, but over time she made her peace with it and saw it as a privilege to watch the world change around her and of course stay with her beloved.

Also the year they met was set in the 1980s, or honestly it could be any time after that or something I don’t know yall get creative I’m just going with the flow.

That is it :) sorry again this is long, and I hope every one has a good day/night(it’s 3 am why do I do this to myself). I also hope you guys continue to follow along with me on their lover clown journey :D

AND- little sneak peek of an upcoming piece I’m working on for Mermay 😙

[gucciwins]

idk if u do requests but a fic about Harry’s “how is your head?” show interaction would be amazing 🥲 where he gets the fan backstage and well we know where this goes!!

a few weeks since i've written anything so i hope you enjoy 🤭 word count: 2461 warnings: smut (male pleasure) would love hear your thoughts!!! 🤍🤍🤍

+

Australia had been a dream from the moment he arrived. Tonight’s show had managed to leave him breathless. He takes a minute to eye the crowd as he walks down the stage to sing Matilda, a change of pace for the night. A sign right in front catches his eye, and he knows he has to read it. There were two people dressed in their best outfits. One stands out to him, the bold red lip standing out against her black top. Safe to say, Harry had always been a fan of red-painted lips. The fan holding the sign has it over the barricade, not blocking anyone’s view. He bit back a smile; she was considerate. He glanced at Ny Oh and decided he would rather indulge in his curiosity than be left with the unknown.

Harry grabs his mic and points down to their signs. “Now, there are two signs here. What are your names?”

“Twenty-six,” the blonde hair person answers, making the red-lipped beauty laugh.

“Asked for your name, not your age,” he corrects her. 

The blonde points to herself, shouting “Violet,” and then points to the beauty with red lips, “she’s Y/N also twenty-six.” Harry holds in his laugh but is thankful nonetheless.

“Right, well, your sign says your bestie broke your nose during Melbourne night one. And yours says I broke my bestie’s nose.” Harry shakes his head because it’s a bit odd. Also, the fact that he didn’t spot her in the crowd a few nights ago makes him happy to have spotted her now.

Y/N was doing her best to stay calm because Violet was doing all the freaking out for her. Violet said they had to make the signs as a joke, and if nothing came about, it would make good photos and a great story to share. Well, now Y/N’s feeling grateful to have listened to her. Y/N knew that many said Harry loved eye contact, but she didn’t understand that until today. He was speaking with Violet, but his eyes had not left Y/N’s. He was far enough that she couldn’t note how green they were but close enough to know they had a shine to them under the moon.

“It was an accident,” Y/N is quick to shout.

Harry repeats her words laughing, “well, I’d hope so.” He makes a joke making sure his eyes are on her, hoping she’d find it funny. Y/N takes the teasing in stride. He notices her phone is in her pocket and notes to keep an eye on that during the show.

“Remember, violence is never the answer,” he teases.

“It was her fault,” Y/N shares feeling the need to explain.

Harry’s mouth drops open in disbelief. “Why was it her fault? Her nose is broken.”

Y/N and Violet share a look before falling into a fit of giggles. “I hit her head,” Violet confesses. 

Harry listens to them explain and recaps to the crowd. “You headbanged too hard and hit your nose on her head. I didn’t think Satellite was a dangerous song, but here we are now with a broken nose later.”

Y/N knows her time with Harry’s eyes on her is ending soon, so she does something she never thought of doing until she feels his eyes on her.

“No one has asked me how my head is,” Y/N tells him, faking a pout.

He looks dead in her eyes, “well, it’s what happens when you break your friend’s nose.” Harry has those pouted lips imprinted in his mind and doesn’t have the heart to not check back in with her. “How is your head?”

Y/N shrugs, “never had any complaints.” She sends him a wink laughing as his mouth falls open. He walked himself right into that one. The stadium is laughing, and Harry feels his cheeks warm up because he pictures those red lips wrapped around his cock and tries to will the stiffy she caused away.

“We are in Australia, aren’t we?” Harry forces himself to look away from her and instead transition into the saddest song of the night. 

The show had Y/N dancing and singing with her best friend. Call her crazy, but she felt Harry come down the stage staring at her, putting on all his best moves to woo her. Y/N had always thought Harry was pretty, but tonight in his pink ringer tee, she thought he was sexy. Harry can wear anything and make it look good because he wears the clothes, and his confidence shines through every time.

The show’s ending comes far too quick. A female security guard makes their way to Y/N, offering her a handshake telling her she has a nice top, and walks away. No one seemed to think anything about it, and she knew that meant no one saw the paper she slipped into her hand. Y/N carefully opens the note telling her to come towards the side entrance because a band member wanted to meet her. A little mention that it’s okay to bring her friend. Y/N decides to enjoy the final song and then share the news with Violet because they were saying yes to going backstage. 

Violet could not stop talking as they let the fans move around them. Y/N spotted the security who gave her the note and signaled Y/N to come to her. She helped them around the barricade and took them backstage. Y/N didn’t know what to expect, but she sure didn’t expect to see the Love band sitting on couches, drinks in hand. Y/N and Violet tried to act cool but knew they must look like deer caught in headlights. 

“Hi, welcome,” Ny Oh greets. “Your story was hilarious.” 

Y/N feels her face flush because it’s kind of embarrassing. She told a sold-out stadium her head was good; specifically, she told Harry Styles. Her favorite singer. 

Pauli’s eyes light up in recognition, “oh, you, too, had the best sign so far. Hope you’re okay.” Pauli tells Violet. 

Violet thanked him, quick to tell the band how amazing they were. Y/N chimes in and is grateful for how welcoming the band has made them feel. Y/N hates to ruin the conversation but has to use the restroom. Lloyd offers to walk her, which she is thankful for. He points to a room, telling her to take her time that no one was using it. Y/N thanked him before going in to do her business. She walks out and jumps in surprise to see someone sitting on the couch. Not just anyone, Harry Styles. 

He smirks, noting how jumpy she is. “Sorry, love.”

She shakes her head, “no, uh, they told me it was okay to use the restroom. Sorry if I’m bothering you.” 

Harry shakes his head. “All good. Y/N, right?” 

“Right,” she confirms for him. “And you are?” 

Harry chuckles under his breath, she’s cheeky, and he loves that. “‘M Harry, love.” 

Y/N nods, taking him in. He quickly got out of his outfit for the night and now is only in a hoodie and sweats. She goes to excuse herself, but Y/N knows she doesn’t want to leave his side, not when this might be her only chance at meeting Harry. 

“You were amazing tonight. Seen a few of your shows, truly a sight to behold.” Y/N gushes, not caring if he might think of her as a fangirl for saying so because he deserves the praise.

Harry bends his head, “thank you,” he whispers. He’s nervous. Y/N can tell because he’s playing with the rings on his fingers, but when he raises his head, Harry stares at her like he’s ready to devour her, and Y/N is prepared. She knows this might be for one night but doesn’t have it in herself to tell him no. 

“Haven’t done this before,” he explains.

Y/N takes a step closer to him. “A conversation or a one-night stand.” 

“Asking a fan backstage.”

Y/N feels her breath hitch at the confirmation that he was the one who invited her backstage. “Can’t say I have either.” 

Harry laughs, “Sure, you haven’t. You’re kind of hard to miss in the crowd.” 

She can’t help how quick her face warms up at the compliment, “Last time I dated someone in a band, I was in uni, and he played the bass. Can’t say it ended too well.” 

“Fuck him then.” Harry shrugs, standing up from the couch and stepping close to her. “You don’t have to stay if you’re not comfortable.” 

“And if I want to stay,” she breathes out.

Harry smirks. “Then I’d say get on your knees because it seems you’ve got something to prove.” 

Y/N was not expecting him to be so forward, but she had never backed down from a challenge. Y/N loved pleasuring her partners something about having them at her mercy always got her wet and made for the perfect foreplay. “Are you sure?” Y/N checks in with Harry.

“Yes,” he breathes out, overwhelmed seeing her on her knees for him. 

With one firm tug, his sweats slide down and frees his dick. He’s hard, and Y/N swears she’s never seen a prettier cock. Y/N palms his bare length, relishing the feel of his smooth skin against her hand. Y/N lets her hand rest, one on each thigh, and her eyes linger on his tiger tattoo for a second too long. She leans in, pressing a soft kiss. Y/N hears him let out the most delicate moan, which urges her forward. She lets her tongue grace the drop of arousal glistening on the tip of his cock. Harry moans out her name, wanting her to take him in her mouth already. 

“Okay?” 

“Perfect,” he rasps out.

That’s all she needs to begin. Opening her jaw wide, she takes him in her mouth. Her tongue swirls and her cheeks hollow out as she sucks. Harry’s hand finds its way to her hair while she sucks his cock deep in her mouth, showing him how much she wants this. How much she’s enjoying him in her mouth. Y/N sinks her nails into his thighs, and Harry hisses at the pain tightening his grip on her hair, making Y/N moan, needing more, wanting more. 

Y/N tilts her head back and peers up at his eyes through her lashes, feeling his length bump against her throat. She notes the heat and desire in his green irises, letting him take a bit more control as his fingers tighten around her hair and move her head to a rhythm that suits him, and Y/N lets him fuck her mouth.

She feels her jaw ache, but she loves this feeling and wants to give him everything he asks for. She wants to be good for him.

“You are so fucking beautiful. Down on your knees for me, staining my cock with those red lips. Fuck, Y/N.” She moans on his length, loving his praise and attention. “You like this cock? Going to let me take what I want like a good girl.” 

Y/N nods or tries to as she keeps him in her mouth, not ready to let him go. He moans as he pushes himself deeper, he has all the control, and Y/N loves it. She’s at his mercy. He’s taking what he wants. Y/N’s fish wraps around the base of his cock, wanting him, no needing him to come down her throat. Y/N shifts closer, leaning into him, wanting him deeper. His taste overwhelms her, and Y/N knows she’d never have enough of him. 

His movements turn frantic, but it doesn’t stop Y/N. “Y/N, fuck, baby. I’m going to come.” Harry tries to pull away, but Y/N snakes a hand behind, clamping it down on his ass, and pulls him closer. “Fuck baby,” he grunts. Harry throws his head back and lets himself spill into her mouth. She feels every twitch and moan he lets out as he holds her head close to his body as he unwinds. 

Y/N is addicted. Blow jobs were fun when your partner was great, and Harry was amazing. He seemed to know how much she could take and pushed her far enough that she got pleasure out of it as well. Y/N pulls away and stares at his cock, her mind full of thoughts of how his cock might feel between her legs, but she won’t be presumptuous. 

“Alright, baby?” Harry asks, careful to tuck himself away. Y/N falls back, leaning on her knees, breaking her gaze from his cock to his eyes. 

“Good,” she promises. He offers her a hand up, and she takes it. Y/N tries her best to hide her disappointment but also knows she needs to go home with Violet, suddenly remembering this wasn’t the most private place for either of them. 

“Are you from here?” Harry asks as he fixes his rings. “Accent is a bit different.” 

Y/N laughs, fixing the sleeve of her shirt. She knew what this was and kind of hoped for more but fuck, how couldn’t she want more? He was so good to her. Y/N wishes it had lasted longer, but she knows she’ll never forget it, so she lets him talk about something else to keep it from getting awkward.  “I’m from London or living there now.” Y/N accepts the wipe he offers her to clean up her smeared lipstick. 

“You know I’m doing a show in London,” he throws out there casually. 

Y/N looks away from the mirror to hide her smirk. “Are you?”

“Mhmm…” he comes up behind her, keeping a distance but close enough for her heart to speed up. “Maybe we could meet up.” 

Y/N turns around, lifting her head to meet his gaze. “Guess it answers that question.” 

Harry stares at you, puzzled. “Which is?” 

“How is my head?” She smirks, and Harry blushes red. Y/N is basking in this more timid Harry after she had his cock in her mouth. 

“Well, how about you meet me later tonight, and I’ll show you how my head is. Then we’ll see if I can see you in London.” 

“Wouldn’t that be a few months away?” Y/N asks, confused.

“I’m a patient man,” he assures her. 

Harry kisses her cheek, placing a piece of paper with his number on it in her hand. “See you tonight, Y/N.” He leaves her in the room breathless and excited about what’s to come. 

[navybrat817]

Is spitfire ready for the race?

Hmm. Mostly yes.

Friendly Competition

Pairing: Motocross!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You make a new "friend" before the race starts.

Word Count: Over 1.1k

Warnings: Cattiness, Nat being awesome, talk of motocross!Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?)

Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @saradika. Header by yours truly.

A/N: Hothead and Spitfire have made an impression, haven't they? ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You didn't take a seat right away as Nat led you to the stands. She didn't seem to mind as she stood by you, even with the race getting ready to start. Maybe she sensed that you were a bit antsy and politely didn't rush you.

Your gaze settled on a photographer near the tracks and you hoped she snapped a photo of Bucky. It made no sense why you wanted that. It's not like you'd see the pictures. Plus you already saw how hot he looked in the earlier photos Nat showed you. 

With his stupidly gorgeous eyes and hair and those fucking lips that-

"Nervous?" Natasha cut into your thoughts. 

"I'm not," you said, the corner of your lip tugging a bit. "Maybe a little. I told you, I want Bucky to win."

"And I told you he will. I'm always right, you know. At least I act like I am."

"So humble," you joked, but her confidence helped you relax. 

"Extremely. Let's go sit."

"Natasha! Hi!"

"Shit," she said under her breath. A redhead, a shade or so lighter than your friend's hair, walked over and blocked your path before you could go into the stands. She carried herself with confidence, her shoulders back and not acknowledging anyone else around her. You did your best to make your own judgments on people, but your friend's reaction didn't paint her in a good light. 

I wonder why that is.

"It's so good to see you!"

"Dolores," Natasha said in a clipped tone.

"Did you do something different with your hair? I didn't think the bob cut was back, but you pull it off," Dolores commented with what appeared to be an insincere smile.

Oh. That could be part of the disdain.

You knew well enough that not everyone could be honest and straightforward, but you never understood passive aggressive compliments. Were they even compliments at that point? Why be sneaky?

Be a bitch and own it or be nice.

"No one has complained yet," Natasha curtly responded before you could speak up. 

Dolores either didn't catch the tone or ignored it as she turned her attention to you. "And you must be the new girl I just heard about. I'm looking forward to us being friends," she said, taking a step back so she could look you over. "I love your skirt. Interesting choice for the tracks."

"Thanks. Nat suggested it and, as you already know, she has great taste and style," you said, not at all ashamed or intimidated by her judging gaze.

Like you felt slightly protective of Bucky earlier, you felt the same for Nat.

"Isn't that nice?" Dolores asked, her lip twitching when you didn't cower under her stare. "So nice for her to take the new girl under her wing."

"New girl". That label again. 

"I actually have a name outside of 'new girl'," you said, stating it for her.

"Well, I'm Dolores. Most people call me Dot," her smile widened again. "And some of the boys were just talking about you over there. Heard you made quite an impression on Bucky."

"I'm shocked you've heard anything about me, especially so quickly. Guess good news travels fast."

Dolores bristled, but quickly regained her composure. "I know we aren't best friends yet, but us girls have to stick together. So I thought you should know that some of the boys are pegging you as a, well, pit lizard," she exaggeratedly whispered at the end, like it was a big secret. 

"That's bullshit," Natasha spoke, glancing at you. "They wouldn't."

"I'm just repeating what I heard. I'm trying to warn her," Dolores said with a hint of sympathy in her gaze. It would have worked if not for the mocking tone. "Do you know what that means?"

Oh, I do love the condescension. 

"Groupie for riders? Yeah, I'm familiar with the term," you shrugged slightly. "Did the boys also mention that Bucky kind of asked me on a date?"

The lighter redhead stood up straighter, her eyes narrowing as some of the "friendliness" began to chip away. 

"Something wrong, Dolores?" you asked. 

"He what?"

"He asked her out on a date," Natasha smirked.

"No, he didn't."

"He did," you nodded. "He also didn't give me the impression that he pegged me for a pit lizard. I can't imagine Nat would encourage me to date him if he did."

"I dated him," Dolores blurted out.

The plot thickens.

"It was one date," Natasha said to you under her breath.

"And you should be careful with him," your new "friend" warned as she strode forward. You refused to step backward. "Wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"Are you threatening her?" your actual friend asked, shifting her stance to put you slightly behind her. "Because that isn't a good idea."

It's nice to have a protective friend. 

"It's okay. I'm sure she's just being friendly," you said before Dolores had a chance to answer. You leaned in a little like you were going to whisper a secret. "I think I'll be just fine with Bucky, but thanks. You also have lipstick on your teeth. Thought you should know.

Dolores muttered something unpleasant under her breath when she moved around you and stormed away. 

"Good to see you, Dolores," Natasha said even though she was out of earshot at that point. "Lipstick? Really?"

"What? She did," you said truthfully. "I'd want someone to point it out to me."

"You okay?"

"Just fine," you said when she raised an eyebrow. "It's not a bullshit answer. It's a jealous ex."

Wait. Does one date make you an ex?

"She's right though. You really are making quite an impression on people here," she said, taking your arm so the two of you could finally sit down. "You have Bucky and Maddox making bets over you. Now Dolores is threatened by you."

And I'm not even racing. 

"You make me sound like one of those Mary Sue characters who gets everyone's attention for no reason whatsoever."

"You mean you aren't the most special kind of special person there is?" Nat teased, giving a friendly nod to another girl as you passed by. 

"No, I'm just the shiny new toy everyone wants to play with," you joked back. "I don't have anything to worry about with her, do I?"

"Like what? Competing for Bucky's affection? Trust me. That ship didn't sail. It sank."

You snorted a bit. "Funny."

"Really though. You have nothing to worry about. We have your back," she said, taking a seat. "Besides, a little friendly competition never hurt anyone."

"So, Bucky is a prize now?" you asked as you sat beside her.

"Neither one of you are prizes, but I still think you're both going to come out on top in the end."

With Bucky determined to win the race, you had a feeling Nat was right. 

You just had to make sure Dolores didn't stick a knife in your back when you weren't looking.

Should we worry? Nah. Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Dialed In Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[your-divine-ribs]

Ice Cold Part 15

Words: 2.4k

Lyla finds out more about Van’s past 💙

Ice Cold Masterlist Main Masterlist

"I owe you my life Lyla."

Raj's voice was filled with an appreciative kind of awe that made me squirm in my seat. I was uncomfortable enough visiting him as it was, I hated hospitals, but the praise he kept heaping on me just made things worse.

"You'd have done the same for me, any of us would have," I replied. "I just wish I'd not been distracted. As soon as I saw those fake waiters I knew something was wrong. I shouldn't have hesitated."

My mind drifted back to that fateful night in Paris and the note from Van urging me to 'GET OUT NOW'. I was sure if I'd followed that instruction I would have been at Raj's graveside now rather than his hospital bed, but still it didn't seem good enough.

Raj shifted where he lay, groaning and screwing up his face, clutching his bandaged abdomen. "Shit... I think it's time for my pain meds again."

"I'll get a nurse," I offered, rising to my feet. "I should be getting back to the office anyway."

"No!" He said hurriedly. "Don't go yet!"

I hesitated, turned to him, watched an awkward little smile emerge on his lips as he struggled to hide his discomfort. "I was thinking... erm... maybe when I get out of this place... maybe we could... errr... go and grab a drink or something?"

My heart sank as I took in his hopeful expression and I just hoped the small smile that I painted on looked genuine. "Errr... yeah sure... that'd be nice... look I really do need to get back. I'll come and visit again soon."

"I'd like that," I heard him say as I hurriedly turned and made for the exit.

Of course I had no intention on taking Raj up on his offer. He was nice enough, a real gentleman, good-looking and sweet. Someone I was that sure Jen would call 'a real catch', but those qualities didn't interest me. They didn't make my heart race and my mind spin. They didn't make me feel the same way that Van did.

In truth, my visit to Raj wasn't just as a well-meaning friend or colleague, I'd also had an ulterior motive. I wanted to find out who'd he'd been working with on the psychological profiling team. I tried to tell myself that I wanted to delve into Van's past to assist me with bringing him down, but I couldn't lie to myself anymore. I was in so deep now all I could do was tread water and try and keep my head above the surface, the dangerous current threatening to completely sweep me away.

Andrea was a small bird-like woman with sharp features and a serious demeanour, and she looked at me with something between wonder and admiration as I asked her to walk me through Van's psychological profile report.

"We've all been talking about you in this office Lyla," she said, eyes bright. "No one else has spent so much time with Van before and got away with their life. What was he like?"

Exciting... Dangerous... Intoxicating...

I batted the words out of my mind and settled on a very different adjective.

"Terrifying."

I saw Andrea visibly shudder as she pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, picking up a thick file and starting to leaf through.

"You know, you're such a good agent," she said, pulling out sheets and photos. "Most field operatives don't care much about profiles and psych reports, they're straight in there all guns blazing, going for glory. They don't realise that getting inside someone's head and knowing how their mind works is key to catching them."

"Well, no matter what they've done, they're still people at the end of the day, right?" I answered.

Andrea narrowed her eyes. "Oh, we don't do this to humanise them. They're monsters... all of them... no matter what they've been through. No... we do this to find their weaknesses. That's how we bring them down."

"Oh..." I looked away quickly, taking a sip of my coffee.

Andrea carried on, a thoughtful look in her eyes. "Of course someone like Van... well that's easier said than done. He doesn't appear to have any weaknesses. Tell me... you've been the closest to him... what are your thoughts? Is there anything we can use to get to him?"

Her question caught me off guard and I froze for a moment. Of course Van had a weakness. A very obvious one. And unbeknownst to Andrea she was looking directly at it.

"Errr... no... I don't think he does have any weaknesses that I've seen... but he's just a man right? They're all weak in some way, hey?"

I nudged Andrea gently, grinning, trying for a joke to distract from the serious look on her face as she studied me intently, but it was quite obvious she wasn't the joking type. She simply sighed and turned her attention back to the files, picking up an old dog-eared crime report.

A photo slipped out of the pages and fell in front of me on the desk and I picked it up for a closer inspection. It was a small boy, he couldn't have been any older than five or six. His clothes were crumpled and torn and stained with what looked like dried blood. The pale skin of his face was streaked with it too. The haunted look in his eyes told me that he'd seen horrors no boy of his age should have seen.

"Is this... is this Van?" I stuttered.

I didn't really need to ask. I'd recognise those striking blue-green eyes anywhere. Andrea nodded.

"What happened to him?"

Andrea's expression was grim as she spoke. "This was taken when they found him, he was just six years old. His family were killed... all of them.... and he witnessed it. He'd been left in the house for five days with their bodies when they found him."

"Christ..." I breathed. "How were they killed?"

"Murdered."

The word cut through me like a knife to the heart and an image of my own dead father flashed through my mind's eye.

Andrea wasn't finished with her gruesome tale. "It was brutal, a machete attack apparently. The father was beheaded. It was a gangland style execution."

Nausea rose in me. "Who did it?"

"I'm sure you've heard of Tommy Chappell."

I nodded. Everybody had. An infamous criminal who was notorious for running all of the criminal activity in the North twenty years ago.

"Van's father was a bad man. Really bad. Rotten to the core. He used to work for Tommy, running the drug operations. He got greedy though, he was skimming money off the top, and then of course when he got found out Tommy had to make an example of him."

"What about his mum?"

Andrea had a look of distaste on her face. "She was no better. A junkie and an alcoholic. She should never have had children, those boys were neglected right from the moment they were born. They never really stood a chance."

"Boys?" I said, confused by the plural term.

She sifted through the files again, her fingers alighting on another photo. Van looked even younger here and he was with an older boy.

"Van has a brother?"

"Did," Andrea confirmed. "He was a lot older than Van. Chappell didn't spare him either."

I could picture the horrific scene in my mind, Van as a young child, forced to watch his family members meet their grisly ends. It didn't matter whether they were good or bad people, at that age family were all you had. I shook my head, trying to clear the emotion away that was threatening to surface. I had to be professional.

"So what happened to him... afterwards?"

Andrea pulled a sizeable stack of papers out of the file and placed them into my outstretched hands. "He got taken into care. He was young enough that there were plenty of families who were interested in fostering to start with... well, that was until the problems started."

I stopped sifting through the papers and looked up at Andrea, eager to hear more.

"It became apparent quite quickly that Van wasn't like other six year olds. Something was seriously wrong with him. He was... cruel, destructive, often violent. One family went so far as to say he was evil."

I scoffed disbelievingly. "That's ridiculous! He was six years old! After everything he'd been through it's not surprising he had issues!"

"Naturally," Andrea agreed. "Social care's come a long way in the last twenty years. Unfortunately Van was shipped around a lot at first. Families handed him back because they couldn't cope with him. Eventually they ran out of options, so he stayed in care homes... some of them shall we say... rather disreputable..."

She screwed up her face. She didn't need to elaborate, I'd heard enough horror stories of vulnerable children abused by those who had been trusted to care for them.

Andrea went on. "He became just another product of the system... damaged. It's a textbook classic example really. I mean, not all psychopathic behaviour stems from neglect and abuse, but the majority does. If an infant doesn't receive the love they need to form emotional bonds in the first few years of life they develop what's known as attachment disorder. Believe or not, humans have to be taught how to love!"

She allowed herself a laugh then, but I didn't find any humour in it. The ache in my heart was steadily getting stronger the more I heard.

"But his parents... they must have loved him in their own way!" My voice cracked with an emotion I wasn't expecting.

"The McCanns?" She snorted like I'd said something preposterous. "Like I said the mother was an addict and his father was a violent, abusive man. His brother was brought up in the family business and he was very much his father's son. Van was probably being taught how to load a gun when most little boys were getting their first train set. I don't think that boy ever saw anything even close to love... not even for one day of his life."

I wasn't prepared for the feelings that ripped through me, I almost felt physically winded and my unemotional facade slipped. Andrea's eyes narrowed at me.

"You look a little peaky. Do you want a glass of water?"

"No... errr no I'm fine, honestly. Carry on... please."

Andrea's eyes lingered on me just a fraction too long, and I could feel the guilt rising. I cleared my throat and let my head hang whilst I pretended to study the social services statement.

"There's not much more to tell really...." She lent forward, lowering her voice. "Don't go feeling sorry for him. He's good at what he does because he doesn't feel remorse."

"I don't feel sorry for him!" The words sprang from me forcefully, defensively. "I just know how it feels to lose a parent in such a brutal way... that's all."

"Yes I know all about that," Andrea said. "It's the age-old argument of nature versus nurture isn't it? Are people really born bad or does life just shape them that way? You can put two people through the same experience and they can react in totally different ways. Van chose this life. Your dad was murdered too but look how you turned out."

Yeah, a real upstanding and moral citizen...

"It's hardly the same is it?" I replied, knowing I sounded like I was defending him but not being able to stop myself. "He had nothing. At least I had family... my mum..."

"Like she was such a comfort to you when it happened!" Andrea's sharp and sarcastic tone cut me off and I looked at her, stunned. She looked shocked by the outburst herself, quickly back-tracking.

"Err... I didn't mean... I mean I shouldn't have said that..." She faltered, then put out a hand to rest on my arm which I hastily moved away. "I'm sorry but I read your file, your psych evaluations, your therapy sessions..."

I dropped the files on the desk, rising quickly to my feet, pushing the chair back forcefully across the floor with a screeching sound. "I suggest you do your job and read the criminals' reports, not the staff's!" I hissed.

"But... but I had to! When we had that data breach earlier in the year... all those files got accessed. It wasn't just the assignment files... they got into the personnel files too."

I'd already started to turn, but this statement stopped me in my tracks. I'd not heard of any data breach. "What are you talking about?"

Andrea's face looked stricken, like she'd said something she shouldn't have and had now been caught out. I glared at her, watched her squirm with unease.

"I'm guessing no one told you then..."

I took a step closer, my mind racing. "Told me what?"

She glanced around, uncomfortable, but I wasn't backing down. "Just tell me," I said sharply.

She sighed then, took a breath before the words tumbled out of her. "It was the worst breach we've had. Our network's supposed to have state of the art encryption too, it should be uncrackable, but somehow someone got in. They accessed all sorts, assignments, undercover agent information. It blew some of their covers wide open. Thankfully they managed to get them all out in time... but it could have cost lives. Remember that senior member of staff Eric suddenly leaving? Someone had to be made accountable. At least they didn't access too many of the personnel files..." she trailed off, eyes darting around before coming to rest on me again. "They got into your file though... they accessed the whole lot... everything. It was strange because none of the other agents were affected... it was only yours..."

I'd stopped listening at this point. Thoughts were thundering through my head as I stood motionless, mouth agape.

"Are you alright? I don't think Paul wanted to worry you..."

I ignored her, starting to back away before I quickly whirled around and made for the door, flinging it open. All I could picture in my head was Van, eyes burning into me with intensity whilst he spoke those three words.

"I know you..."

[montammil]

Hi there! 🌠

You mentioned Sadie earns a small income off of her photography,

Would Lawrence ever go out to buy one of these photos just to see Sadie again (and be able to claim he's supporting his children's business :D)?

Would Sadie even allow him to buy any of her paintings? I wouldn't put it last her to outright refuse him sale since it's not her main job.

So sorry this is shorter than what I usually write, but I hope you still like it! Maybe I'll write a continuation soon if anyone wants me to continue!! I'm getting some other requests done, I think the next one should be posted tomorrow!! ^^

CW: Past kidnapping, mentions of stalking, female whumpee, parental whumper

...

Lawrence wasn't actively trying to seek Sadie out, in all fairness. He was just accompanying a few friends of his to an art fair, since one of said friends just liked going to these things.

He found it mildly entertaining. It was a good way to pass time, and he would occasionally buy a few prints and paintings if he really liked them.

Photography at these shows were rare, so he slowly stopped walking as he saw a stand of photographs. Each and every one looked vibrant, which he admired.

"We're gonna go look over there," his friend told him.

Nodding and not even looking in the direction he pointed, Lawrence replied, "I'll catch up to you."

As soon as they left, he picked up his favorite photo: a photo of the northern lights. Nadia and him planned to have their honeymoon there, and even though the reminder of what he couldn't have left a bitter feeling in his mouth, it was always nice to have something to remember her by.

He also got a photo of a starry night sky, reminded of Marshall, and decided to get that for him (even if he knew realistically he wouldn't care for it).

Lawrence didn't have much of a line to wait in, only two people in front of him. He looked down at the two prints, smiling to himself. He made a mental note to take Marshall stargazing tonight. He was sure he was making enough progress to trust him.

When he got to the front of the line, he looked up from the photos in his hand to see a familiar face.

His eyes widened. Hers did too, except twice as large.

"Sadie," Lawrence breathed.

"No... no, no, nonono..." She backed up into the wall behind her, looking like a deer in headlights. She seemed too stunned to move, judging by how she just stood there.

Honestly, Lawrence was just as shocked. He blinked, then took a quick glance around to make sure no one was within earshot. There was a single woman browsing, so he knew he'd have to stay calm about this.

"It's nice to see you again, buddy. I had no idea you were into photography," Lawrence observed. He didn't like how fearful she looked of him, as if he hurt her. He could understand Nathan's fear, but he never hurt Sadie! Not physically, at least.

...not like he really got a chance to anyway, given she ran away relatively quickly.

She took a deep breath, eyes darting around the area as if looking for an escape. Lawrence wouldn't stop her if she tried, knowing how strange that'd look. He kept his smile for the sole purpose of trying to calm her down and not arouse suspicion.

"...what are you doing here?" she finally asked. She had a look that was a mixture of anger and horror.

He kept his seemingly innocent grin. "I had no idea you were here, kiddo, I swear. I was just coming by with some friends and then saw these pictures-- great work, by the way-- and decided to buy them. So..." He slid them on the desk.

She stared at the two prints for a moment, then back at him. "There's no other motivations here?"

With an amused snort, Lawrence said, "I can assure you, I'm not your stalker or anything. It's been almost two years, hasn't it? I've gotten over it. Have you, though?"

"Whatever. That's one hundred." She grabbed a plastic bag from underneath the table and put the two prints in it. She waited for Lawrence to hand over the money before giving him the bag.

Lawrence knew she overpriced them on purpose, but he didn't argue with it, they were worth the price because they held a new meaning to him now, as not only a reminder of old times, but as something Sadie made. He felt like it was poetic, in a way.

Honestly, this whole moment seemed poetic to him. Like fate was trying to tell him not to give up on Sadie. He still had no idea if he was going to take advantage of this opportunity or not.

Sadie's expression turned more annoyed than anything. "You're holding up the line."

He glanced behind him to see the same woman who was browsing now behind him. He smiled. "So I am. Have a good day, Sadie. I'm so proud of you."

In response, she just cringed.

On the way out, he grabbed her business card containing all her contact info and the name to her website... to support her business more, of course. He'd be making himself a regular customer from now on.

He also wondered if Marshall would like a sibling.

[argentisms]

i don't want to know i'm not capable of coming out alive.

There’s a lingering feeling that’s haunting Allison, though it only shows up when she’s standing by the staircase — It’s difficult to not let her mind wander back to the year before, this time last year. Her determination to have a good time tonight hasn’t been in vain. She’d done enough shots with Danny to be a bit wobbly, had danced with friends and strangers (and Isaac, secretly hoping it’d make Scott jealous), temporarily forgetting the new Boogeyman that haunted Beacon Hills. Hindsight makes the memory of Lydia’s last birthday easier — It’s a painted picture now rather than just a splotch on a canvas. 

She knows now why Lydia had spiked the punch, why her best friend was subjected to sleepwalking through her life. The thought makes her anger towards Peter Hale begin to bubble, wanting nothing more than to send an arrow right between his eyes. Despite the rational part of her brain reminding her how different her world looks now vs where they were last year — Each time she passes the staircase, where the doorway to the kitchen is only feet away, her heart skips a beat. 

She’s been drunk plenty of times before, but there’s something about this that just feels… disorienting. Maybe she had too much punch, maybe it’s the adrenaline leaving her after that confrontation with Matt — Either way, there’s a sick feeling in her stomach, leaving her feeling unsteady and uncertain of what’s happening around her. She stops at the bottom of the stairs, gripping the edge of a small table to try and reground herself. 

The sight of a black hoodie catches her attention. They push through the crowd of strangers without being noticed, head down as they move. Allison can’t take her eyes off them, the sound of the party drowning out as a ringing in her ears takes over. She’d spotted them earlier — Passing by upstairs while Matt gave up on explaining himself and the photos. Now they stand in full view, sticking out among the drunk party goers. She blinks slowly, taking the sight of them in: Seemingly her height, a black hoodie pulled over their head, weapon tightly in their grip. Instinctively, she calls for help — Namely for Scott, just for the people around her to ignore her entirely. The hooded figure reveals themselves as they lift their head. 

It’s her, Allison realizes, staring back at herself with disgust, crossbow raised.

The music is deafening, but she barely notices the crowd around her. It’s hard not to get caught up in the memory, especially knowing everything that followed. She can’t help but let her mind drift to thoughts of her mother — That rather than spend the evening sleeping in a guest bedroom at Lydia’s lake house that night, she’d spent it sobbing into her father’s chest in the waiting room of the Beacon Hills Hospital. The memory puts a bitter taste in her mouth, one she dulls by downing the last of her vodka soda. 

The arrow hits her before she can even register what’s happening. Pain shoots through her, her hands clutching her stomach as the blood quickly begins to pool. People around her still don’t notice. They’re too consumed with dancing to Lady Gaga than to pay mind to the bleeding girl  mixed in with them. She’s been shot in the stomach, shock and fear consuming her with each passing moment. All she can hear is the ringing in her ears, her heart slamming against her chest. Allison tries to speak, to call for help again, for Scott, something, anything. She can’t seem to get the words out, every word dying on her tongue before it can be screamed. She remains unseen, unnoticed. Blood covers her hands, eyes wide in horror as the realization hits her — She is about to die. 

The sound of her own voice pulls her from her panic, though it ignites a new terror with it. “Look at you, yelling for help.” The disgust rolls off the woman in front of her, bitterness made clear in her tone. It’s strange to be looking at herself, to be in this position at all — All Allison can do is watch in disbelief. “Always yelling for help.” Exasperation greater with each word, eyes narrowed as she continues. “It’s pathetic, Allison.” Hearing her own name makes her blood run cold. She can’t seem to make her feet move, to speak, to do anything but stare at herself. The crossbow is raised once more, now aimed at her head. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to this.” 

“Allison?“ 

The concerned sound of a familiar voice pulls her from the memory, launching her back into reality: Loud music, Lydia’s crowded lake house, her hand gripping Danny’s wrist so tightly her nails are digging into his skin. “Oh my god,” It’s not much of an answer, but the shock prevents her from forming a more coherent sentence. The look on his face made it clear he was confused, clearly having approached her to suggest another round of shots. “I —“ Allison starts, the drinks she’s had through out the night beginning to catch up with her, keeping her from coming up with a good excuse. 

Her eyes catch the man standing a few feet behind Danny, leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. Ethan. Allison hasn’t spoken to him before, but if Aiden is any indicator — His twin will be just as deadly. The smug look at his features doesn’t help her embarrassment, but she’s too shocked by her own actions to give it much thought. She lets go of Danny’s wrist, her gaze moving between the two. “I need some air. Sorry.” She settles on, pushing her way past them and into the crowd, ignoring Danny calling out her name. 

She hadn’t planned for any of this — The first half of her night had gone well enough, drinking and dancing and pretending there was no Alpha pack or strange deaths at their doorstep. (The former was harder to forget when both Ethan and Aiden had shown up with a six pack and shit eating grins.) Within minutes her compartmentalizing failed her — Yet another thing to add to the list — but Allison had no interest in causing a scene. This was Lydia's party, and she wasn't about to ruin it with her own bullshit.

The cool March air is a welcomed change, greeting her as she steps outside and off of the deck. Crisp air promotes goosebumps while the warmth of the nearby bonfire keeps her from freezing. Kicking off her heels, her hands push through her hair as she forces herself to take a deep breath and calm down. She can hear the sound of her mother’s voice in her head, berating her for not being able to keep her emotions in check. She’d done well enough up until that point — From sneaking her way into the bank vault, and helping corral Cora and Boyd into the high school to avoid them reeking havoc through out, to keeping an actual distance from Scott and anything having to do with the supernatural. She’d promised herself and her father she’d stay out of it — This would be a new start, a clean slate. Attempt to live normal lives despite the amount of graves labeled Argent, and the residual guilt she carries.

It shouldn’t have surprised her that it didn’t last. 

[lostography]

Age 31. I dip my hands in a plate of purple paint and smear the paint across my bare back. A violent, violet mess across the flesh. The paint is watery and thin, cold on my hands and skin. A declaration of war. I click the self-timer on my camera. Once. And then again. And again. The body as canvas. The body as art. Or perhaps, the body as conflict. 

The body, a blank slate. These stories could belong to anyone.

_ _ _

Age 3. A snapshot in a photo album. I am wearing my mother’s white slip and it’s falling off my bare shoulders. I have on somebody else’s sunglasses, and I’m straddling a stick pony. My satisfaction with life is written clearly across my face. I am a child who would prefer to be running buck naked in the streets but playing dress up is second best to that. This body is wholly, delightfully my own. 

_ _ _

Age. 7 A new town, a new school. I’m a week late for second grade, and just trying to catch up. The popular girls wear sticky sweet lip gloss and apply roll-on glitter around their eyes. They wear tank tops and short shorts and flip-flops; it’s after all August in the desert, and the heat is thick. But in my house, we don’t wear tank tops or short shorts. Now that I’m getting older, tank tops are not modest. Instead, I wear my sister’s hand-me-down t-shirts, jean shorts to my knees, and old sneakers. I know I don’t look like the popular girls. When I don’t get an invite to M.’s eighth birthday party, the one where everyone gets to take a hot air balloon ride, I can’t help but wondering if this is why. 

_ _ _

Age 8. I am in the dressing room of JC Penney’s trying on jeans, with my mother waiting just outside the door. My age matches my size and this feels important to me. I step out of the dressing room to show off my stiff new jeans. Bootcut. I don’t remember if my mother tells me I look good or if she tells me she likes the jeans. What I do remember is she tells me I look so skinny. And I know enough to know that skinny is good. We buy the jeans. 

_ _ _

I ask other women to tell me the stories of their bodies. I want to know how and when that self-consciousness sneaks in. I want to know how they were taught to relate to their bodies and by whom. The narratives become complex quickly. They want to talk about diets, God, sexuality, and shame, but also self-worth, acceptance, and celebration. Do I write about one thread, and leave the others for another time? There is too much to untangle, each thread intricately connected to another. I attempt to write it all. The body, a complicated tapestry.

_ _ _

D. and her family are on their way to visit D.’s aunt in her new home. D. must be about twelve, maybe thirteen. They pull up into the driveway, and her aunt comes out to greet them. Her aunt is the wild one of the family, known for her blunt and crass nature. D. is barely out of the car before her aunt looks her up and down and says, Geez, you sure are getting chubby! D.’s mother pipes in, I keep telling her she needs to be more careful about what she eats! 

They take a picture in front of the new house. D. slouches behind her sisters, ashamed for the first time of her body, mortified at being photographed. She pulls her denim jacket close around herself in hopes of hiding even more. 

After that, she starts wearing that same denim jacket with every outfit, determined to keep on hiding.

_ _ _

K.’s friends love to play with makeup and clothes. K. is seven and unsure if she’s supposed to like these things, too. They introduce her to the Barbie movies, the Bratz TV series, and online dress up games. She thinks, This is what pretty girls look like.  Enormous eyes. Tiny waists. Shiny blonde hair.

They keep playing dress up through the years. She lets her friends doll her up, do her hair, put on her makeup. This is how she learns she’s not what the pretty girls look like. Eyes too small. Hair too mousy. It’s not as easy to change in real life as it was in those online dress up games. 

_ _ _

Age 12. In church, we learn what not to do with our bodies. The list is long and covers everything from what we don’t take in, to what we don’t take on. I don’t fully understand the mechanics of sex, but I know it’s on the very top of that long do-not list. Second only to murder. But murder rarely makes into church lessons. 

In a class of a dozen tween girls, our teacher passes around a white, silk rose, instructing each of us to take a turn drawing our mark on it. When the rose has made it through the circle, she holds it up for us to see how clearly tainted it is by our casual touching. Look how dirty this rose is. Who would want this rose now? 

_ _ _

I want to leave religion out of this. I want to say conservative Christianity has no role in this. But I can’t. I can’t when woman after woman tells me about what she learned in Sunday school and youth groups about her body: Cover up. Look good enough to find a husband, but not “too” good. Cover up. Don’t give boys the wrong idea. Cover up. Don’t make it hard for boys and men to control their thoughts. Be pure. Be modest. Be giving. Be angelic. Be sure to cover up. 

And we did. We kept our shorts and skirts just above the knees. We covered our shoulders. We layered tank tops under t-shirts to hide our bellies and our breasts. Nothing too tight. Nothing too sheer. 

Don’t use your body for attention. Modest is hottest. 

No special occasion is special enough to bend the rules.  

_ _ _

Age 17. A dress made of white eyelet lace. It fits my body like a glove, flaring out slightly at the waist, the hem falling just a few inches above the knee. I love the dress the way only a teenage girl can love a dress. It is that belief that this dress will change everything. I will never stop believing in the power of sartorial magic. But first, a knit bolero to cover the spaghetti straps. And bobby pins to hold the bolero in place. And another white skirt layered underneath the dress so it’s not too short. And suddenly, I don’t love the dress anymore. 

_ _ _

Another dress. This one belongs to A. She is seven, maybe eight, getting custom measured for a waltz dress. She is competing in ballroom dancing, and not for the first time. The seamstress, who has measured her before casually comments, Interesting, you are bigger on the waist than last time, but you haven’t grown taller.  

_ _ _

C. recalls being very, very young. This is what the adults praise her for: You have such big, beautiful eyes! What a pretty little girl! 

_ _ _

L.’s father-in-law always tells his granddaughter: You have such pretty eyes! I love you so much! Always, in that order. 

_ _ _

Age 31. Here is the scene: a baby shower. A spread of food. Tiny quiches. The obligatory vegetable tray with ranch dip in the middle. Lemonade. And a tempting three tier display of strawberry cookies with pink frosting, wafting their summery scent through the kitchen. Let’s play a game: count how many women comment on how they really shouldn’t eat a cookie, but just can’t resist. Bonus points if calories are mentioned. The words, like a mantra, a prayer for forgiveness that must be uttered before eating. Carrots and cauliflower, penance for their crime. Cookies, a moral dilemma. Food as sin. 

_ _ _

Age 17. The body as sin. If you dress like that, no good church boy is going to be attracted to you. If you dress like that, you’re making it hard for that good church boy to keep his thoughts clean. If you dress like that, you become walking pornography for that good church boy. If you dress like that, clearly you’re asking for it.

_ _ _

No sweets after nine!

No sugar until Christmas!

Cut back on the carbs!

These are the love notes our mothers wrote to their bodies, year after year, posted on refrigerator doors, mirrors, and inside pantries. The body, an unruly lover, always something to be kept in check.  

_ _ _

Age 24. He leaves me little love notes, tucked into the windshield wipers on my car, hidden in the books I carry to class, and left with small gifts on my front porch, and in the notes, he tells me I’m beautiful. 

He also tells me, in the dark, his hands wrapped around my waist, Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’d be so hot if you gained like twenty pounds. 

He tells me I look beautiful without any makeup on, while we sit on the edge of a canyon, waiting for the sunrise, enjoying the strawberries and cream he’s surprised me with just for the occasion.

He also tells me about how his mother gets up at the crack of dawn to get ready, so she has her hair done and a full face of makeup on by the time his father gets up. He tells me this with admiration, as though this is an expression of love: always putting forth effort to look your best and hide your worst. 

_ _ _

When A. is a child, she learns quickly that skinny girls who show lots of skin are the pretty ones. Her family doesn’t go to a church. There’s no one to shame her into covering up. She dresses how she wants. She watches her mother, a dancer, fighting to stay a certain size. This is one lesson. But she also sees how confidently her mother presents herself at any size. This is another lesson. She watches the way her father always looks at his wife like she’s the most gorgeous woman in the world. Even when her mother goes bald from fighting cancer, and gains a hundred pounds from being bedridden and in treatment, even then, her father can’t take his eyes off the woman he loves. This is the final lesson.

_ _ _

Age 25. He had wanted a good church girl, but not too good, someone who could talk doctrine and talk dirty. The sexy saint. It was exhausting trying to be that girl, but not lose myself in the process. In the end it was me who walked away from that relationship, but months later, it still stings. When I see him with his new girlfriend, I wonder if he’s found what he’s looking for, if he’s found someone who can be that impossible both. She has curves in all the right places. She probably gets up early to do her makeup, too. I doubt he tells her he'd like her to be thicker. But still, I wonder if she questions if she’s enough.  

_ _ _

Age 31. At the baby shower, X. has brought her youngest daughter, who is just shy of two-years-old. Her daughter plays with puzzles on the floor. X. discusses an upcoming tropical vacation. In preparation for the trip, she’s trying to be careful with what she eats. A body like hers isn't readymade for a tropical vacation and must be edited into a slimmer version. Food, a minefield to be tiptoed through, there solely to thwart her efforts. The other women chime in. There is nothing women bond over more than the shaming of their own bodies. X’s daughter interrupts, tugging at her mother’s shirt; she can’t fit the puzzle pieces together on her own. 

_ _ _ 

Baby R. has recently turned one years old. In the video her mother shares with me, she has just discovered her tummy and her fabulous, herniated belly button. She keeps pushing her belly button in, delighted by the way it pops back out each time. She pulls her shirt down and then quickly pulls it back up, pleased to find the belly button where she last left it. She lets both hands investigate her tummy, this new, uncharted territory. So much wonderful body to explore. 

_ _ _

Age 31 . There is purple fingerpaint all over my body, and on the carpet, and on my camera, proof of a messy exploration. Paint as a declaration of war? No. I don’t want to be at war with my body any longer. I am writing an agreement to cease and desist in purple fingerpaint across my flesh. It reads something like a love note. 

_ _ _

As K. nears the end of high school, after years of Sunday school lessons teaching her to be sweet and angelic, she decides to jump from the pedestal that religion has built for her. K. doesn’t want to feel like an angel. She wants to feel like a rockstar. She wants heavy eyeliner and dark eyeshadow. She wants leather jackets. Her rebellion is small, but it is her own. Her body is her own. 

_ _ _

Age 15. We play a game called Body, Body, Body. It is an elaborate game of hide-and-seek, each player adopting a role or a façade that must be adhered to for the duration of the game. It is a search in the dark for a hidden body. And when the body is found, the proclamation is made, Body, body, body! As though to say, look, look what I’ve found, hiding here in the dark all along. 

_ _ _

Age 31. Body, body, body, where is the body? I am still in the dark, searching for something hidden. I am reading about the body, talking about it, listening to podcasts about it. I am writing poetry and essays and fiction about it. I am studying photographs of the body and taking my own. I don’t know what I’m looking for. I am a war general studying the enemy to learn its tactics. No, I am lover, studying the beloved to learn its habits. No, I am a soul, studying the body to remember its mysteries. 

_ _ _

Age 26. Dracula, the ballet. The performance is incredible: everything from the set-design to the costuming, crimson and black and white, tension and contrast meet fluidity and beauty. But most of all, the dancing itself, the way Mina’s body responds to Dracula, the wordless conversation that flows between the two of them, each movement a brushstroke. The seductive surrender of giving your whole body so freely to a moment. 

_ _ _

C. is relearning the art of intuitive movement. In her thirties, and after giving birth to five children, her body and its movements have become strange to her. She puts on music and lets her body respond to the rhythm and move as it will. Even alone in this practice, a tiny sliver of self-consciousness sneaks in. But still, she relishes in the moment, that connection of intuition and movement, the self fully inhabiting the body. 

_ _ _

Age 26. A strange and lovely little incident. About three in the morning, I wake up with a stuffy nose. As I get out of bed to grab a tissue, I am struck by what a marvel the human body is, that within a matter of seconds I can go from waking to sleeping, from lying down to walking, with hardly a pause to stand in between and no thought to any of it. I feel within me a sense of wonder at the agility of motion, the perfection of muscle movement, grateful for a body such as this. This body I feel so constantly at war with will still do these gentle and good things for me.

_ _ _

Age 31. What I’ve forgotten from my faith is this: The body is also a temple. I am clearing away the cobwebs and the dust from years of ignoring it, from hiding it away. I am trying to invite God back in. I am apologizing for the years of shame and hate I’ve felt for this body and raging against everything that taught me to feel like that. He keeps reassuring me, It’s okay. It was never meant to be like this. You are okay. You are enough. And I feel held in the embrace of this newfound love. 

_ _ _

Age 25. We are perched on a cliff overlooking a vista of crimson and cream-colored cliffs, white sands, and wide expanses of desert. We’ve climbed 260 feet of rock face for this view. My first multi-pitch climbing route, and also my first route to involve trad climbing. My body did this hard and wonderful thing to get me here. I think of the second pitch, and the sandstone rock face I climbed, my climbing partner the unseen voice above me, encouraging me forward. The connection of body with earth, skin communicating with rock, legs and arms shaking, but still, moving forward, moving upward.

_ _ _

In her twenties, D. takes a fitness class. As they move their bodies, they shout collective affirmations, I am strong! I can do hard things! I am grateful to my body! The affirmations feel false at first. She feels like she is lying to herself. But slowly, she begins to believe them. She is strong. She can do hard things. She is grateful for her body. 

_ _ _

A. is moving across the country, packing up belongings from homes in two states as she goes, the whole of it in a whirlwind week. Her body is exhausted, and yet, here is she after already having packed up one house and driven hundreds of miles, packing up another house, moving heavy boxes and furniture. Her late mother’s fine China. The China cabinet itself. These things are important to her. This move is important to her. All day, she is thanking her body, asking her body to keep on going. And it does. When she finally lies down that night, she feels so grateful to her body, and thrilled at what it has accomplished. 

_ _ _

Age 31. Yoga class. The studio is in a community rec center. Pool tables are situated right next to the studio, and beyond that, table tennis and air hockey. During downward facing dog, you can hear the rhythmic ping of play, and the shouts over missed shots. The woman next to me is here in sweats, and her teenage daughter beside her in jean shorts. The yoga teacher plays Alessia Cara over the loudspeaker while we practice. This is not a retreat. Not an ashram. And yet, this space is holy. Here, my spirit finds my body. Oh, there you are. I’ve missed you. Here, for a brief, messy, and beautiful moment, my body stays balanced in crow pose. I am my body. The body is me. 

_ _ _

Age 6. Four little girls, sprawled on a rug, each resting their head on the belly of another, creating a pinwheel of bodies. This is the game: start laughing, fake, real, it doesn’t matter, just let laughter fill you from the belly up. And soon, whatever the laughter began as it becomes something real. The strange delight of feeling the laugh of another person and the way it only births more and more laughter. We can’t stop laughing. The pinwheel unravels and we are a heap of holy, happy bodies, beaming bright with laughter. 

- Excerpt from “Body, Body, Body,” Valerie Owens

PC: Valerie Owens

[nancypullen]

The Powder Room

One of the last rooms to check off on our looooong list of makeovers in our new home was the downstairs powder room.  It was hideous.  I was able to give it a new look for very little money.  A mirror that I picked up for $4 at an auction, a $6 sample pot of paint from Heirloom Traditions ( best paint EVER) for the vanity, and some odds and ends that I already had around the house or in boxes that we brought. Oh, I also bought a little rug for $15.  So far we’re at $25, but I guess that’s not really true - long before I started on this bathroom we had changed the flooring downstairs and painted the walls. We also bought a beautiful new faucet that cost a teensy bit extra because I was very picky about the color.  I also picked up two door pulls at Lowe’s for $14.  But it all still adds up to a big change without breaking the bank.

This is what the bathroom looked like when we bought the place.  You can’t see the rope they had glued to the ceiling (insert eyeroll here).

And, this is what it looks like now.

As you can see, I’m still shuffling stuff around.  I had a plant on top of the toilet tank but it didn’t look right.  I’m not crazy about the frame above the toilet either. I don’t like putting one rectangle (the picture) next to another rectangle (the mirror).  It’s what I had handy.  I think it needs two round pieces there or maybe an oval and a shelf.  I honestly don’t want to make it too busy, so I may just leave it alone.  It’s a simple room with a single purpose, no need to overthink it. I do prefer the soap bottle in the first photo, that’s staying. Is it weird that I care about the soap bottle? I know it is.  But there it is, another room that I can check off the list. Hallelujah!  I love that bathroom faucet as much as I love my kitchen counters. Bit by bit this place is feeling more like home.  We’re about a month away from our one year anniversary in this house and I’m pleased with all we’ve done.  The outside is catching up too - it’s slowly becoming the birdie haven I’d hoped for.  Every time I step outside now I hear bird song and that’s just a necessity for me.  It keeps my soul in order.

Kind of weird that I’m posting a bathroom makeover on Easter Sunday, but we’re not religious people.  For me, Easter has always been more about welcoming spring.  Christian holidays are all just borrowed anyway - Easter is based on the pagan springtime goddess Eostre. Same with eggs and bunnies, just ancient symbols of fertility.  The spring equinox is reason enough to celebrate, so that’s what I do. Daffodils and nesting birds, longer, warmer days, that’s a religious experience.   The grandgirl hunted some eggs, and enjoyed Easter treats, but she’s just three days out from having her adenoids removed so she’s supposed to take it easy.  Good luck getting a 5 year old to take it easy.  When she was at our house last weekend we went to an egg hunt at Bartenfelder Farms.  Of course, I’m not allowed t post pics of her here, but she had a grand time in the bounce house, running around a field collecting plastic eggs that held candy, and getting a ride on a sweet horse named Goober. Oh! I can show you this pic because it’s just the back of her head. From the moment she was put in the saddle she had a HUGE smile on her face. See that guy smiling at her? She talked his ear off the entire time.

That was snapped after her parents talked her into changing her shoes.  Grancy bought her some gold heels (Elena of Avalor shoes!) and she wore them all weekend, with every outfit, even her night gown.

It made me giggle to see how much she loved those shoes because I’ve been that little girl. I’ve been in love with a dress or a pair of shoes before. Some items just make you want to twirl.  Ya’ know who noticed every single detail of the newly finished powder room? The grandgirl.  She ticked off a list of every tiny detail that had been changed and complimented them. She loves pretty things and I speak her language.  I spent decades living with three males who didn’t care if anything looked nice or even smelled nice.  I’m grateful to the universe for sending me this girl. But back to Bartenfelder Farms. The grandgirl had fun, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the poor guy in the rabbit suit.  I’m pretty sure he had to look down to see out of the big costume head, but as he strolled around he looked like a very depressed Peter Rabbit - like the shrieking kids and bossy moms had finally gotten to him. 

Goodbye, cruel world!

I’ll probably get notes scolding me for joking about depression. I know that depression isn’t a laughing matter. I also know that the imaginary rabbit isn’t really depressed, he’s just trying not to trip.  Don’t fuss at me, it won’t do any good. And now that I’ve shared all of this nonsense, it’s time for me to get some dinner on the table.  The mister keeps walking by hoping I’ll notice him wasting away.  Funny, he’s acting just like the cats do in the morning. Wishing you all a lovely Easter if you celebrate, and a happy spring if you don’t! Stay safe, stay well, spread some love. XOXO, Nancy

[hanjizung]

♡ What Love Is ♡

Han Jisung x Reader.

Word count:  10K

♡ Warnings ♡: Smut; non idol AU, DILF!Jisung, older Jisung, OC (kid), possession kink, marking kink, oral (f), overstimulation, begging, masturbation, shower sex, exhibitionism, fingering, creampie, aftercare.

A/N: Finally the second part to Modern Vintage is here. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and please let me know what you think of it! ♡

Summer coming closer could mean many things; families spent more time together since children weren’t going to school anymore, couples had more dates and groups of friends went to eat from time to time to catch up. Overall, most places were fuller during summer, especially beaches since the sun was incredibly hot. You knew some people loved to go out in summer, maybe to travel or to visit some relatives.

Even knowing how summer as a customer was, working in the coffee shop during the season was another experience, some days it was too empty, then on the weekends too full and some days you didn’t even have enough time to eat. Adding to the stress of working during this season, but luckily, summer was just about to end and since you decided to take summer classes to fasten your graduation and get your degree sooner, you were almost completely over which meant that you would be able find a better place to work and help Jisung pay the bills.

A smile appeared on your face when you thought of him. The two of you had been together for almost a little over a year now; he stopped working in the coffee shop with you  after his best friends from college offered him an opportunity to work with them as a producer in their company, that had been a month after the weekend the two of you spent without Jisu, both of them showed up at his night job, (which you learned, he worked at a nightclub as a DJ and he was really awesome at it) asking him to take a moment and go with them for a talk. The next morning you found him drinking coffee in the kitchen, still thinking of accepting or declining, smiling and kissing you when you encouraged him to take the offer.

Since then, he told Minho and Felix about it, and they congratulated him and told him that he would still get the employee discounts whenever he stopped by to visit them (and you, of course.) The Lee brothers, more than being your bosses, they treated the two of you like good friends and worried about you like they were family. You still remember Felix’s face when he saw you kissing Jisung goodbye while Jisu hugged her dad tightly, a grin on Felix’s lips that made him look like a mischievous cat.

“Didn’t I tell you it would be only a matter of time?” he said, startling both Jisung and you, making you turn to look at him laughing, a slight blush coloring your cheeks.

“Felix, you knew we would end up together since he brought Jisu here” you objected, rolling your eyes playfully. “What kind of witchcraft did you do, hmm? Tell me your secret!” you joked, getting closer to him and hugging him lovingly. He hugged you back and patted your hair as if you were Jisu.

“I have eyes, Y/N. I could see the both of you drooling for each other when you worked the same hours” he explained, his brows raised as he turned from you to Jisung, who just like you had his face painted with a blush.

“Oh” Jisung said, scratching the back of his head with his free arm and laughing awkwardly. “I mean, you’re not wrong, Lix. I liked Y/N since the very first time I saw her mess up a drink” your boyfriend said, winking at you.

“Are you saying that messing drinks is the way to get to your heart, Sungie?” you asked, acting as serious as you could, “because if that’s the case, I won’t let you be in the kitchen when I’m teaching Jeongin how to do the difficult ones” you finished, making both of the men in front of you laugh.

“Ah, he doesn’t mess up as much though, I admit Jisung used to be messier than him. Jeongin’s a good boy, he learns quickly like you, Y/N. I’m glad that we hired him, I feel like the place is fuller since he’s been here” Felix said, crossing his arms over his chest and caressing his invisible beard as he looked at Jeongin who was writing down an order. 

He noticed the four pairs of eyes on him and waved to where you were awkwardly. Minho had announced not too long ago that since the coffee shop had been doing better than before now you were short staffed, and since he was planning on giving you a little vacation he made the decision of hiring someone else to help, and that's how you ended up meeting sweet Jeongin, whose cute face contributed to more daily customers as well as Felix's delicious baked desserts. 

Since you were the last person hired, it was your job to teach him everything you knew. He had been there for just three weeks now, and he was a little shy just like you were when you first started working there, but as days passed he joined the talented chefs that you had for bosses and started teasing you and Jisung every now and then. 

The coffee shop never closed, it was open all the seven days of the week, but when Jisung was offered a new spot with his good friends, you decided to throw a party to celebrate, inviting the Lee's and Jeongin, and of course, Jisu's uncles; Chan and Changbin. You also took the opportunity to invite your ex roommate, who happened to visit you at work and the one who you would constantly text when something interesting happened. Jisung said that since the party would be the first time you'd be meeting his best friends, and since he already knew your roommate that you should invite your best friend from college, so after calling him and asking him if he was free he accepted. 

The big important day came, and Jisung dressed with his nicest clothes, putting on that one cologne he knew you loved so much. The party would happen at your department, so when he was ready he announced that he would be rushing to get the missing food before all your guests appeared, leaving you and Jisu to finish getting ready. 

You helped her get ready first, dressing her with a beautiful navy blue dress that she adored since the moment she saw it, then you did her hair and told her to draw something to everyone coming to the party while you got ready as well. 

When you walked out of the room fully dressed, Jisung and Jeongin's back were turned at you. They were talking on the couch, a movie was playing on the turned on television as they talked without paying any attention to the screen, but the conversation soon died when your boyfriend stood up after hearing footsteps behind him. He stared at you, his mouth hanging and a quiet wow leaving his lips as he moved quickly to embrace you and kiss you, ready to whisper how beautiful you looked and how lucky he was to have you. 

"Woah, you look so pretty! You look like a queen, queen Y/N!" Jisu exclaimed, joining her dad and running to hug your legs. Jeongin saw the whole scene, chuckling. 

"You look amazing, Y/N. Honestly, if you and Jisung weren't together I would be inviting you for a drink as soon as I saw you" he joked, raising one of his eyebrows making you laugh. 

"Guess that's too bad for you then, Jeonginnie, she's all mine" Jisung said, pressing a kiss on your cheek and then leaving your side to sit on the couch again. 

Jisu left you to go sit on her dad's lap, and when you were just to sit on the other couch your phone rang, your best friend's photo showing on the screen as you smiled apologetic at the two men in front of you and you walked away to answer. 

"Hi, Y/N. I'm in the building, what floor is it?" his voice greeted you. He was always like this, going straight to the point. 

"The fifth floor, the door number is 190" you told him, hearing through the line how he walked into the elevator and pressed the buttons. "See you soon" you told each other before hanging up. 

You were excited to see him, it wasn't everyday that the two of you got to be at a nice event or even to a party like this, he wasn't a party guy much, and you always went out with your beloved roommate, Chunghee.

You walked to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and when you were coming back to the living room you heard knocking on the door. Smiling and placing your glass down, you walked excitedly to it and opened with a big smile on your lips, already knowing who it was. 

"Seungmin!" you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him carefully and hugging him tightly. He responded to the hug politely, patting your back two times and then separating his arms from you, a little shy since it was the first time he was in the presence of your boyfriend. You moved away from him to let him step inside, taking his hand in yours and closing the door behind you. 

"Jisung, Jisu, Jeongin, I present to you my best friend! Seungmin, you already met Jeongin, and this…" you left Seungmin's side to stand behind Jisung who still had Jisu in his lap, they looked at your friend with the same eyes full of curiosity "... Is my family" you finished, smiling at him, your head tilted to the side as you locked eyes with Jisung for a brief moment before returning your eyes to your best friend. 

"It's nice to meet you in person and not just thought pictures" Seungmin greeted, a timid smile on his lips that gained a chuckle from Jisung who responded that it was nice to see him as well, and so you proceeded to sit with Seungmin by your side and start a small conversation with him. 

The room fell silent for a few seconds, the TV working as background noise only until a knock on your door and voices sounding from behind it let you know that Felix and Minho had finally arrived. Jisu opened the door, rushing to get there first and throw herself at the first pair of legs that would be in front of her, making Minho laugh as he struggled to hold a box of something in his hands without it falling. Felix rushed to help his brother by freeing him from the kid's grip, taking Jisu in his arms and squishing her playfully. 

"Hey, welcome!" Jisung greeted, standing up from the couch along with Jeongin to help the two men with the things they were carrying; a cake and something that looked like it was probably ice cream. One of Felix's new experiments, possibly, but you figured that if he had brought it on that special day, it would be an advanced approved recipe. 

"We're so happy to be here, I can't wait to meet Jisung's new bosses. Are they here yet? Are they more handsome than us? Y/N?" Felix asked, lifting Jisu in the air dramatically, making her giggle and turning to you when he was saying the last part, his accusative eyes scanning you. 

"They haven't arrived yet, we'll meet them at the same time, Lix" you laughed, standing up yourself and hugging Minho first, then him. He smiled at you, and then noticed Seungmin who was still sitting where you were, his extroverted self wasted no time and he made his way there, dragging you along with him. 

"Hello, we haven't been introduced yet, I think? If you've heard nice things about a Lee Felix then that's me, but if all you've heard of him are complaints, then it's not me anymore" he joked, presenting his hand to your best friend who laughed politely at his joke. 

"Kim Seungmin, Y/N's friend" he shook Felix's hand and then patted Jisu’s head since she was still in Felix’s arms, offering both of them shy smile along with it. It was so heartwarming to have all your friends and family interacting with each other.

A phone going off distracted you and everyone in the room turned to meet the owner who simply smiled shyly, turning his back and answering. You could hear Jisung’s voice through the introductions of the people who were currently in your house. You watched all of them with a fond smile, but the sudden sensation of an arm wrapping around your waist scared you a little bit, making you turn your face to find your beloved boyfriend who placed a kiss on your cheek, whispering to you that he would be leaving shortly to get his friends. 

You nodded and sat next to Minho on the couch, he was on his phone until he noticed you, straightening his back and smiling briefly at you. He asked how you were doing and how you were feeling about Jisung’s new path, you said that you felt happy for him and that your current concern was that you wanted to graduate to help; your conversation with him finished rather quickly, as the door opened and two strange men walked in through the door, the subject of your conversation with Minho staying behind them and closing the door.

“Everyone, they are my friends and now coworkers, Chan and Changbin,” Jisung announced, taking advantage of the silence that reigned on your little home to present his best friends, a intimidating looking man almost his height with a deadly gaze and a slightly taller one, blond guy who was smiling openly and showing his dimples. 

Jisung stepped forward, a big smile on his face as his hand took yours and pulled you in front of his friends. You weren’t sure why, but your face started feeling a bit hot and you were a little afraid that if you tried to speak, you would stutter instead of speaking properly. To you it almost felt like you were meeting his parents, your nerves getting the best of you.

“Guys this is Y/N, you already know her a little from what I’ve told you” he laughed, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment, his cheeks also a rosy color just like yours were.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” the blond one said, offering you his hand for you to take. You did, extending your shaky hand to him and shaking it, then doing the same with Changbin. 

Your ray of sunshine boyfriend must’ve felt the awkwardness you were irradiating, since he wasted no time in coming to your rescue and started presenting everyone else to them, except Jisu who left Felix to hug Changbin and tell him to pick her up so she could kiss his cheek. While he was busy with introductions, Seungmin approached you quietly, looking at you with a soft smile.

“You okay?” he asked, bumping your shoulder with his own. You looked at him with questioning eyes that only made him chuckle at you. “You looked like you were very nervous,” he explained. 

Closing your eyes, you sighed. “I was! It felt like a meteor hit me, but instead of a space rock, it was reality” you whispered-screamed, looking at your friend with big eyes that soon turned soft when your gaze fell on them. “They seem really nice, though. I’m glad to know that Jisung wasn’t all alone before I met him, you know?” 

“You really do love him, Y/N. I’m glad he makes you this happy” Seungmin smiled at you, his voice full of honesty that made you feel like you had the key to happiness in that exact moment.

The rest of the evening passed faster than you would like to admit; your little home was full with the chattering noises from your guests and chill music playing in the background. The dinner went good too, the table was full and it was like a Christmas dinner or similar, the table full and laughter being a constant proof of the nice atmosphere. Any sign of the existing awkward silence created when Chan and Changbin appeared was long gone now, and you learned a little more about them and how they met with Jisung just like they learned how the two of you ended up together, a story told with additions from almost everyone saying that they always knew how hard you were pining for each other.

Chan started telling how he happened to meet both of his friends; he explained that he met Changbin one night at a party, Chan was the dj and Changbin reached to him to ask him how he managed a cut between two song without it being so obvious (Changbin laughed, exclaiming that even if Chan taught him how to do it, he remembered how the first time he heard it he was shocked.)

Then, both of them usually hung out by the library where Chan mentored Changbin, and one day they saw Jisung with a guitar practicing and decided to ask him what he was doing. Since that day, the three of them started getting curious about song producing, and so they decided to give it a try, being that and their first demo songs the start of a beautiful blooming friendship that lead to where they are now. 

When Chan mentioned their demo songs, you gave Jisung a side eye that clearly translated to him as ‘you’re gonna have to show me those songs’, a look that didn’t Changbin must’ve also caught since he said that those songs weren’t too good and that ‘it was better for everyone to not listen to them’, now making everyone want to listen to them more.

Later, Felix went to your fridge to take the ice cream he had brought and started serving it to everyone with your help. Little Jisu was over the moon because she was finally going to try one of the secret recipes of ice creams that she saw Felix perfecting at the coffee shop, and so more memories were talked upon all of you, not only about the trio of friends, but also about Seungmin and you being childhood friends, then the Lee brothers motivated by Chan’s story decided to tell how they knew they wanted to open the coffee shop. Jeongin opened up too, talking about how he had a lot of doubt joining his current career, but saying that he knew everything would eventually pay off. The evening contributed to you getting to know everyone a little more.

Almost at 10, Jisu was sleepily sitting on Changbin’s lap, you were surprised to see how much she stayed by his side and how the man didn’t seem to mind being with her, it was a little funny too because he seemed to be so tough on the outside, but really all he allowed to see in the few hours he spent in your house he was a softy, and Jisu really knew how to bring that side out of him. When you noticed the little bubbly girl was asleep, you stood up and walked to where he was, but when he realized that Jisu was comfortably dreaming, he stopped you. 

“I’ll take her to her room, where is it?” he asked. You smiled at him as a thanks and guided him there, leaving the noisy living room to Jisu’s dark and silent bedroom. 

You turned on the light for Changbin who was right behind you, and you watched him tuck her in the bed so carefully, like he had done it before. Curiosity got the best of you and you decided to ask him.

“Have you put her to bed before?” your voice came a little quiet, careful to not wake Jisu. Changbin hummed, looking at the sleeping angel in front of him and nodded.

“Yeah, when her mom left, Chan and I were all Jisung had, but we couldn’t help him often, and then we were called with an offer in America and we left.” You listened to him while he was staring at Jisu, your mind imagining these three men trying to take care of a baby, sweet scenarios playing in your head of them learning how to change a diaper and getting scared whenever she cried. “Let’s go back,” his voice brought you down to earth, and he waited for you to step out before turning off the light and closing the door behind him, like a gentleman.

Seeing you walking out of Jisu’s room, your boyfriend watched as you approached the living room with a smile on his face, and when you were close enough he opened his arms for you to take a seat on his lap. You happily did what he desired, kissing his cheek when he wrapped his arms around you. No one in the room was looking at you, too busy paying attention to a horror story Minho was saying from when he was in college to mind the two of you. 

Jeongin was sitting by the table, a piece of cake in front of him that he was eating until he was interrupted thanks to a notification on his phone. When he grabbed it, he saw the hour and he stood up.

“I didn’t know it was this late, I should be leaving, my roommate texted me saying he’s worried” he explained, being the center of attention. On the other couch, Seungmin stretched and stood up as well.

“I can take you home if you want,” Seungmin said, looking in his pocket for his car keys while he waited for Jeongin’s answer. The younger one nodded and added that it would be nice of him to drop him by his apartment.

“Thank you guys for coming, have a good night” you told them when they waved goodbye to everyone. 

“Thanks for receiving us. Congratulations on your new job, Jisung” Seungmin spoke again, shaking Jisung’s hand while Jeongin hugged you and thanked you as well.

After them, Felix yawned and Minho teased him, saying that he was just like Jisu, to which Felix laughed and said that he could be right. They made their way to the front door and said their goodbyes to the rest of you, and that resulted in just you and the producers. Jisung offered to drive them to their new shared apartment.

That’s how you found yourself in the co-pilot's seat with Chan and Changbin sitting in the back giving directions to Jisung who was driving. It reminded you of the first time you got in the car with him and took care of Jisu, then you smiled when your memory replayed all the times you sat there talking with Jisung and admiring him while he drove, he always looked for your hand or rested his on your thigh during red lights.

While Chan was giving directions to Jisung, Changbin chatted a little with you, telling you that he wasn’t too excited to go to his new house because there was a pure mess of boxes and half unpacked stuff everywhere except for their beds.

“I forgot how much I disliked moving,” Chan sighed, eyes closed as he paid close attention to the window. Changbin agreed with him.

Once you were finally there, you saw them coming out of the car. You took Jisung’s hand and with a look you told him to stay there. “We should help them, Sung,” you said. He nodded, knowing that you would be worried if you didn’t voice your kind offer to help your new friends.

“Chan, Changbin, would you like some help unpacking?” Jisung said, helping you out of the car. They were standing nearby, waiting for you two to leave and being surprised when Jisung hurried to open your door.

“Nah, it’s okay. You should go back home, though, it’s pretty late,” Changbin answered after exchanging a quick look with Chan who looked at his phone, probably to check the hour.

“We got this, don’t worry. Thanks for driving us,” Chan contributed, watching Jisung walking slowly to the driver’s seat again. “See you on Monday, Jisung, and see you later Y/N, it was very nice to meet you” he smiled.

“Alright, but make sure to call us if you need anything. See you on Monday” and with that, Jisung started the car and you left. You had no idea when on the way back you fell asleep, but the next time you opened your eyes, the car was slowing down and you could recognize the familiarity of your building’s parking.

“We’re home, baby, wake up” Jisung’s sweet voice called you. You blinked one, two times before sighing and taking off the security belt, stepping out of the car and stretching. You waited for him to do the same and walk together to your department.

“Your friends are really nice, I’m happy you’re gonna work with them. Are you excited?” you asked once in the elevator, looking at him.

“Yeah, I’m excited. It’s been so long since we made a song together or shared ideas for lyrics,” he said, smiling at you and hugging you, pressing a kiss on your face. You closed your eyes, accepting it without saying anything and just enjoying the moment. It was small moments like this when you were glad to start working at the coffee shop.

The elevator stopped at your floor, and the two of you made your way to your comfy apartment. You sighed, knowing that you would have to clean and put away everything that was on the table. When the door opened you finally took off the heels you opted to wear for the occasion, sighing in satisfaction when your feet touched the cold ground. Jisung only looked at you with a soft smile on his face, and he walked up behind you, passing one of his arms under your knees and picking you up bridal style.

“Sungie! What are you doing?” you squealed, acting quickly and holding onto him, afraid that you would fall. Your boyfriend didn’t answer you, instead he smirked at you and kept walking to your room. Once in there, he somehow managed to turn on the light before letting you gently on the bed.

Hovering above you, you were able to see the lust in his eyes before he closed them and finally kissed your lips passionately. Your hands, still on his neck, pulled him even closer to you. You sighed on the kiss, moving one of your hands to his chest and the other tangling in his hair. Jisung took this as an invitation to straddle you, supporting himself with one arm and caressing your face with the other hand.

Soon, the intensity of the kiss ended when he separated to breathe again, pressing kisses on your chin and then travelling down your throat.

“This dress looks so good on you, honey, but I prefer how you look without it. I’ve been thinking about it all day, taking it off you. I’m so lucky that I’m the only one to get to see you like this” he whispered, his voice husky, making you shiver. 

It wasn’t the first time he attacked you like this; it was mostly on special occasions, and usually he asked someone to take care of Jisu, the other times you two had sex it was very late into the night and rather quickly to avoid the exposure to accidents, so him suddenly acting guided by his instincs and fucking you like it was only the two of you in the whole world was one of the last ways you imagined today would end.

“W-wait, Jisung, close the door first” you warned him, pushing him off you. He quickly nodded, making his way to the door and closing it, also locking it and then, he walked slowly towards you who was now sitting on the bed, looking at him with needy eyes. 

His hands went to his belt, slowly undoing it making you bite your lip. He took it off and let it rest at the feet of the bed, now taking his shirt and starting to pull it up until he was in front of you, finally taking that piece of clothing off from his body. Your legs hung open, allowing him to stand between them as one of your hands played with the hem of his pants, you looked at him through your lashes and he placed one hand on your head, patting you dearly before it went down to cup your face and he bended to kiss you, this time more sweetly than before. 

He pushed you gently so you would be on your back, he kissed the exposed skin on your neck, being careful to not leave any hickies since he knew how much you struggled to cover them when you had to go out, he was always mindful of you, unless he wanted to show off that you belonged to him, then he would mark up your neck so prettily for everyone to see. 

He kneeled on the floor, his nose on your thigh sensually caressing you all the way to your right knee, his hands hiking up the skirt of your beautiful dress and then resting now on your hips, exposing your undergarment. Then, one of his hands moved to hold the back of your thigh to put your leg on his shoulder. 

Since the moment he kneeled down on the floor, your mind played images of the countless times Jisung's face was hidden between your legs making you crazy, allowing you to see stars when his magical tongue brought you over the edge. It was inevitable to contain yourself, your pussy getting wet since he started pressing kisses on your legs, torturing preparing you for the orgasm he would soon bring you.

A sigh escaped your lips as you let yourself enjoy the moment, he was holding your other leg open with his hand, allowing him full entrance to your now ruined panties. You were lucky you decided to match the pretty dress with your favorite set of lingerie. He hummed in approval when he saw your wetness.

He had you whimpering lowly, you knew you had to keep quiet but as time passed and Jisung decided to admire and tease you instead of doing something to you, you were starting to grow a little impatient.

"Babe…" you cried out, looking at him with pleading eyes "I need you," but he didn't seem like he wanted to pay attention to your cries.

"You need me? Why, baby? What do you need me for?" he answered, his deep voice making you close your eyes and his words provoking a slight blush on your face.

"I'm so wet for you, please…" you said. It was an obvious answer since he could see the mess he made of you. "Want you to eat me out, please…"

His fingers passed through your needy sex, making you sigh one more time. He grunted, but instead of moving your delicate panties to the side, his face got closer and he pressed a sweet kiss on your mound. When he was done teasing you, he moved away and finally started taking off that piece of lingerie, removing your leg from his shoulder and placing it there again once he had freed you from it.

His lips came in contact with your throbbing cunt, making you groan in satisfaction when his tongue skillfully, dragging it from the center of your wetness, taking a sweet moment to taste you and then going for his objective, his arms around your legs to keep you in place for him to torture you oh so deliciously.

You cursed, eyes closed as you permitted him to pleasure you like he knew you adored, your hand pushing him towards you as an encouragement to keep doing what he was doing, and he never stopped. Your hole throbbed, his tongue went up and down, he sucked and teased with his teeth as well, the sensations overwhelming you but becoming more and more intense, Jisung could clearly hear how you were coming apart and losing your mind from the silent posture you wanted to maintain, but he just loved your moans and heavy breathing when he flicked his tongue a certain way, and how you pulled his hair and you tried to arch your back. You were so beautiful, and to him there was nothing better than to see you like this, so flustered and sensitive from how hard he was going to make you cum.

Feeling how you started to shake, one of your hands flew to your mouth when you knew that you wouldn't be able to resist any more of the sweet torment you were a prisoner for, and suddenly, white hot pleasure numbed you and all you could do was lay there, pulling his hair locks and shaking slightly. Jisung never stopped his attack on you, the overstimulation caused by his tongue provoking a few tears from escaping the corners of your eyes, it felt like something new, like you had unblocked a new level of extasis.

Your high finally ended, and just when Jisung heard you breathing again he slowed down. You hadn't realized he put a hand on top of the one over your mouth to help quiet your cries, but you were certainly thankful that he'd done it, because if he hadn't, your neighbors would think he was ending your life or torturing a poor animal, or even worse, you would have a little girl banging on the door thinking you were hurt or something.

"You taste so good, my love, and you were so good to me too, enjoying how I played with your clit" he murmured, wiping his chin from your essence and standing up from the floor, looking at you with those lusty eyes you'd gotten to know so well, "but I still want you to come on my cock too. Look at me, look at the effect you have on me, Y/N…"

Your hand left his hair to clean your sweaty forehead, you tried your best to look at him when he ordered you to, his pants with an obviously painful erection, your eyes not failing to notice a dark spot that could be seen in the fabric.

Jisung undid the button and unzipped his pants, then slipped a hand under his dark boxers to pump himself, grunting from the touch of his hand against his dick, it was a majestic view you had only seen one time in the shower when he was horny but didn't wanted to wake you up.

It had been after a stressful night at the club full of young college students, he went straight to the shower after arriving home and the sound of the water hitting the tiles of the bathroom woke you up. You had sneaked to the bathroom, curious of the complaining noises Jisung made, and there you found him, with his eyes closed, a hand against the wall and the other around his dick moving slowly while he bit his lip, the water droplets running through his naked body making him appear like a Greek God. You kept staring at him working on himself maybe a little too much, because he ended up discovering you and then fucking you carefully in the shower. Truly, an incredible experience that even if it had been a little difficult to manage, you felt it was so worth it.

Finally undressing himself, Jisung stood up between your legs again, his hand on your stomach and he bent to kiss your forehead sweetly.

"You ready, baby?" he asked, waiting for any signal that could mean a positive or negative from you. One of his hands looked for yours to intertwine your fingers. You nodded, swallowing as you thought how good it was to have him filling you, and second later, he did just that. He stretched you as he entered you slowly, his hand squeezing yours next to your head while his other supported his weight, a quiet moan coming from his lips.

"Oh shit, Jisung! Fuck, you feel so good, please" your broken voice managed to speak.

You waited for him to move, but he asked you instead if you trusted him, and simple as that he shifted and now he was standing, your legs around his waist and arms around his neck, his hands on your eyes as he walked somewhere, the destination being your tiny balcony. You thought he wouldn't dare step outside, but he did and the cold air hit you, and not only that, but Jisung also pressed you against the cold glass door of the balcony.

"You better keep quiet, dove, or you'll get us discovered" he warned, proceeding to fuck you slowly as the moonlight illuminated you.

Two mornings after, you showered and got ready to eat breakfast. Jisu was already awake watching some cartoons as her dad hummed while he finished cooking her lunch. "Good morning," you said, going to kiss Jisung's lips and sitting to drink coffee.

"Hey, sweetheart. How do you feel?" Jisung corresponded to your greeting, giving you a quick wink before turning his back to the almost completed food.

"I'm okay, not too tired. Thanks for the coffee, babe. Are you ready for work?" you asked him. He laughed, but he admitted that he was actually nervous since it was something he was very passionate about, it made you happy to see him following his dreams.

When you were done with breakfast, the three of you went to the car, you would drop Jisung first at his friend's company, and then you would leave Jisu at the kindergarten, and you would go to your classes as usual.

"Have a nice first day, Sungie. Love you, I'll see you at home"

"Goodbye, daddy!"

"Thanks, beautiful. Behave well, princess. Love you both" and after you left him, you drove to Jisu's school.

She was always happy to go, she always talked about how her teacher was so pretty and smart, and you couldn't blame her. He was very charming, you would admit, and not only was he nice to the children he teached, but he also cared for the parents too and let everyone know that they could count on him, he was such a lovely spirit, you thought it was a shame Jisung hadn't met him yet, since it was you always dropping Jisu and then going to college while Jisung stayed home and slept after the long and tiresome club nights.

Turning off the car, you got out of the car and opened Jisu's door, helping her out and then walking hand in hand as she excitedly told you that she couldn't wait to see her favorite teacher in the whole world.

"Good morning, Y/N, Jisu" his smooth voice reached your ears when you arrived at the classroom. More kids and parents were saying their goodbyes, luckily Jisu always showed that she was brave and never spent too long hugging you goodbye, too eager to go play with the others kids to mind if you stayed too long after or not.

"Hey, good morning, teacher. How was your weekend?" you asked him, trying to be polite and show that you were a friend for him if he needed to talk just like he was for everyone else.

"Oh, Y/N, I've told you you can just call me Hyunjin, and my weekend was good, thanks for asking. How was yours?" he asked back, looking at your slightly colored cheeks with an adorable eye smile as he reminded you once again to call him by his name.

"My weekend was also nice, thank you, Hyunjin. How-" you were about to say something more, but your alarm that indicated you should better be leaving for your class rang. "Oh, I'm sorry, it seems like I should be leaving for class! See you later."

The professor nodded in understanding, and you turned and left, careful with your steps to not trip and fall to the ground. When you successfully got into your car, you breathed in and exhaled, preparing yourself for the rest of the day.

That was how your new routine was created; first, Jisung woke up and made breakfast, then you dropped him at work and took Jisu to school and you went to college and once you were done with classes you picked up Jisu and went to work at the coffee shop where you would meet with Jisung and the three of you would get home, some weekends still going on trips and enjoying as much time together as you could.

A few months into the new routine, when you were dropping Jisu at school Hyunjin asked you to stay a little more, explaining that there was an upcoming school trip and he was asking you to go as a supervisor. You thanked him, saying that you would try your best to accompany him and the class as well, and sooner than you had expected, the day arrived and Jisung and you were more than ready to go to the aquarium with a lot of other kids and few parents.

The trip was fun, if you had to admit. Seeing all the fish swimming and getting to know more about them was very interesting, and many kids agreed with you when you said that mermaids were very lucky to live underwater with many beautiful species.

Later, Hyunjin announced that it was time for lunch, so everyone had a break to sit down and eat. You were sitting with Jisung next to you, he was drinking from a juice box when Hyunjin approached you and sat with the two of you, addressing you and ignoring the man next to you.

"You're incredibly good with kids, Y/N, and it really shows. They seem to like you a lot" he said, placing a hand on your shoulder, his eyebrows raised as he spoke.

"Well, thank you. I like being with kids, actually, I've always wanted a big family" you shyly responded, looking at Jisung through the corner of your eye. You thought he would react somehow, but he was too focused looking at the kids who were playing near you.

"Well, you're still young and you seem pretty put together to be a single mother… If you look further you might find someone you could share your life with and get married" Hyunjin mumbled, turning from you to look at his class running around the cafeteria.

"Single mother?" you repeated, eyebrows furrowed as you repeated his words on your head again.

"What? Since when are you a single mother?" Jisung's voice reached your ears, making both you and Hyunjin turn to him. "I thought… I thought I was her father?" his voice cracked, making you open your eyes wide in confusion.

"Aren't you her uncle?" Hyunjin asked, finally acknowledging his presence.

"No, Jisung is Jisu's dad. I'm… I'm not a single mother, I'm Jisung's girlfriend, not… Jisu's biological mother" you explained to the teacher in a quiet voice to not get any attention from the other adults near you.

"You're her dad? I'm so sorry, I always saw Y/N leaving Jisu and picking her up, I thought… I thought you and her were all by yourselves. I…" Hyunjin's hand flew to cover his mouth, he seemed so ashamed from his quick assumptions that his face started picking a pink tone. "I wanted to invite you to a date, Y/N. You're a fantastic parental figure to Jisu and– and you're so beautiful, too… I have a big crush on you, I'm sorry…"

You wanted to answer to his apologetic words, but you were too shocked to say anything, not knowing what words would be appropriate to speak so you turned to Jisung to see what he had to say in regards to this situation instead.

"Look, I can't blame you for liking her. She really is magnificent and I'll never get to comprehend how lucky I am for being by her side. I'm sorry, Hyunjin, but I'm sure one day you'll find someone like Y/N you can love" the sincerity and affection carried on his words made you look down and stare at his hand that had moved moments before to hold yours, you already knew but you loved him and how sweet he was.

Hyunjin smiled at your boyfriend and then cleared his throat, "thank you for saying that. You two make a lovely couple, but… if you ever get to break up, you know where I work, Y/N" he winked, moving to stand up and walk away to get the class's attention and continue the tour.

Neither of you spoke a word about Hyunjin's misinterpretation of your civil state after the trip. Sure, it had shocked you at first, but you brushed it off as something not that important. What you didn't know was how badly those words were torturing Jisung's brain. He stayed up most of the night that day, an arm around your shoulders as you peacefully slept on his chest, his head running wild with thoughts about you and how much you changed his life.

That's how he finally gathered the courage to talk to Chan and Changbin about marriage; he knew he loved you, he knew you were a highlight of his life along with Jisu and he was a witness to how much you and she liked each other. He couldn't ask for anything more, and besides, maybe having a ring on your finger would help you stop getting flirted with when you already shared a life with him, because after all, you were young and full of life, many people approached you and asked you for a drink at college or they also asked for your number at work, and the idea of getting married to you excited him more than it scared him, so why not propose to you?

His friends supported his choice, Chan and Changbin had gotten to know you a little more and you got along with them together, they supported you and Jisung and they also offered to babysit Jisu to give you private time together. They were very considerate, and not only that but they could feel how much Jisung adored you in every lyric of any song inspired by you.

So a few months later, one tranquil Friday evening after work when his friends dropped him off at the coffee shop that was nearly empty (except for the owners, Jeongin, Chan, Changbin and for some reason Seungmin too) you were surprised by his cautious behavior.

Jisu was sitting on Changbin's lap when Jisung took your hand and made you walk to the middle of the place, clearing his throat nervously while still holding your hand, making eye contact with you when he started speaking:

"Y/N, this is where we met a long time ago, and this is where everything began that day when I asked you if you could do me a favor. It was the start of our story together, and after spending many days and nights with you I'm more than certain that I love you. I loved you that day, and I will still love you tomorrow, so would you marry me?" He finally ended his speech with a knee on the floor, Jisu next to him handing him a small velvet box that he opened, revealing a beautiful ring inside.

You were more than surprised now, staring at his kneeled form with teary eyes, a hand covering your mouth as you simply nodded in response to his question, and then he placed the ring on your finger, kissing your hand and then standing up to kiss you sweetly, making your heart melt.

"Thank you, Y/N. I love you so much" and after that, everyone rushed to congratulate you two, creating beautiful memories for you.

That Friday, Jisu clung to her uncle Changbin's neck and waved goodbye at you and your now fiancé, saying that she couldn't wait to go to the fair the next day with him, making you laugh and kiss her forehead goodbye, thanking Changbin (and Chan too) for taking care of her and taking her places.

When you arrived home with Jisung that night, you couldn't help but smile like you did when he kissed you the first time, it was a satisfactory feeling, to know that he loved you as much as to ask you to be a permanent part of his life. You were clingy to him, which also made his heart flutter when you pecked his lips or giggled when he touched you gently, but behind the closed door of the apartment he wasted no time and kissed you hungrily, like a caveman trying the most delicious thing in the world.

You breathed in, corresponding to his rude kiss, your hands on his face and his resting on your waist.

"You have no idea how happy it makes me to know you're gonna be only mine, sweetheart. Just mine," he whispered, his breath against your cheek when he separated from your lips to tell you that. He had pressed you against the door as soon as he locked it, attacking your lips like it was his only mission and then going down your neck, leaving a warm trace of kisses burning your skin.

This time, he paid no mind to the 'no marks' unspoken rule he had given himself, sucking on your neck with the sole intention of leaving evidence of the passionate night the two of you would be having to celebrate your engagement, and you couldn't complain. He had given you the ring you thought you would get in a few more years, you might as well show that you're already taken to anyone who crossed your way, it turned you on a little more, if you had to be brutally honest. Seeing Jisung being possessive of you always made you feel like you were one of his priorities, and also showed you that he had no intention in leaving you alone any time soon.

Moving your head to the side to allow him more access to your neck, his hands started taking your jeans off and were now running through your belly under your shirt, touching everything he could as he kept marking you.

"You're only mine now, baby" he growled, separating from you to take off your shirt and look at your almost naked figure, his eyes with a heavy lusty shadow on them.

"... Just yours" you repeated, closing your eyes and taking his face to kiss him with the same passion he did when the door closed behind you.

Your hands rested on his chest, fingers trying to unbutton his shirt, successfully failing at completing the task when he separated from you, placing one of his hands on top of both of yours and pinning them above your head, resting against the cold door while his other hand slipped through your panties.

He groaned when he felt your growing wetness, he found your clit instantly and rubbed it, making you sigh in satisfaction until his hand went down further and he inserted two fingers inside you, this time dragging a gasp from your lips when your walls felt the introduction of his digits. It felt nice, but you knew his cock would feel better inside you, you loved how he filled you.

Pumping his fingers slowly, you started moaning, letting yourself enjoy his treatment. His mouth left kisses on your clavicle, then your chest and when you least expected it, he was pulling your bra down with his teeth and sucking on one of your nipples, his fingers never stopped their work on you causing you to become a wet, moaning mess with twitching legs until you finally came, crying out Jisung's name when your high hit you.

He kept pumping his fingers, having discovered that you did actually like when he overstimulated you once and since then doing it from time to time, this being one of them, and when you blinked your orgadm away, the pulled them from you, loosening his grip on your wrists and licking his fingers clean from your juices as he hummed.

You thought he would be done, you thought he would like to go to bed and fuck you until you screamed his mess in the comfort of your king size bed, but apparently Jisung had other plans in mind, as he undressed his shirt and threw it to the floor with your clothes and pulled you by the arm to the back of the couch, turning you and pushing your back so you were bending over it, his knee between your legs separating them and keeping you from closing them. He started taking your underwear off, his fascinated lusty eyes appreciating how wet you were, practically dripping.

"I wish you could see yourself, you look so lovely, all ready to take me after I made you cum with my fingers. I bet I can make you cum like that again, would you like that?" He asked.

You gulped, "N-no, I want your cock, please fuck me with your cock!"

"My needy baby, so cute. It's 'kay, I'll make you cum around me sweetheart" he responded while his hands caressed your ass lovingly until you couldn't feel them anymore. Soon, you heard him pull his zipper down, anticipating what was yet to come.

"Are you ready, angel?" He asked, pressing the tip of his cock against your throbbing entrance. You nodded, and he started pushing himself inside your velvety walls, stretching you.

With a growl, his hands held you in place by your hips, making sure you wouldn't move from the position he had you in as he started pulling out, ready to repeat the process, meanwhile you were holding a pillow for dear life as your breath got caught in your throat as you waited for him to set up a pace with his hips.

Jisung started slowly, enjoying how you felt around him and loving the way you took him in, looking at how he disappeared which caused him to moan. You, on the other hand, had to resist the urgency of moving. You remember telling Jisung that you wanted him to bruise your cervix, saying that you wouldn't mind new things to which he agreed quickly.

Maybe that was why he had started more than the usual missionary, you were thankful that he kept it in mind, and now surprising you by taking you on the couch, in front of the turned off TV where you could see your blurry reflection getting wrecked from behind by him, it felt incredible.

"You feel so good, I'm so glad your pussy is just mine" he moaned, stopping for a brief second to take your right leg and rest it on the couch to hit a deeper spot inside you, making you start tearing up from pleasure.

"A-all yours" you cried out, inevitably clenching around him when you repeated what he said. You saw his cocku smile through the black mirror that was the TV.

"Ah, J-Jisung, harder!" you demanded with a whine when he found your g spot, the detonator to your best orgasms.

The sudden sting from his hand landing on your butt cheek shocked you, making you moan. "Where are your manners, baby? I thought you were my good angel" he said, starting to slow down the speed that had increased since he started thrusting.

"Please, go hard-harder" you corrected yourself, and once he heard the magic word he instantly did what you had asked of him, provoking you to moan each time he reached where you wanted him, and soon you were clenching around him, legs shaking and walls hugging him tightly causing him to near his climax as well.

It took a few more thrusts for him to find his release, but when he did you felt him filling your insides with his warm seed, a sexy groan coming from his chest and his fingers leaving a bruise on your hips from holding you too hard.

Pulling out from you, he pushed his fingers inside your pussy to keep his cum from hitting the ground, then he carefully pushed you on the couch and walked around it to cuddle with you in his arms.

"I love you" he told you, his hand petting your hair innocently (as if he hadn't fucked your lungs out 5 minute ago).

"I know," you answered, kissing his chest and tightening your arm around his torso in a half hug.

"Let's stay like this for a few minutes and then we can bathe, okay?" you hummed in agreement, enjoying the comfortable silence between the two of you until any of you felt gross enough to want to get cleaned.

You didn't know how much time had passed, but when you realized Jisung wasn't with you any more you stood up looking for him, only to find him filling the tub, a few aromatic candles lighted up, a delicious smell reaching your nostrils. You saw the bathtub was almost all full, so you decided to surprise Jisung by wrapping your arms around his back.

"Let's get cleaned up, what do you say, sweetie?" He said, removing your arms from him and stepping into the warm water, opening his arms for you.

You rolled your eyes, but copied him anyway and rested your back in his chest. The water relaxed your muscles, the candle's scent helped you feel almost like in heaven, and Jisung arm made you know you were safe. Everything was so sweet, until you felt something else poking your lower back.

With a raised eyebrow, you faced your partner with a silent explanation only to find him staring at the love bites on your neck, but you opted for not commenting anything about it.

"You know… I really love you and I'm happy that you accepted to be a part of my life," he said, his deep voice and serious tone getting your attention, so you faced him to hear all he had to say.

"I remember you told Hyunjin that you wanted a big family, and… I know Jisu wouldn't mind having a sibling. I believe now would be a good time to have a baby of our own, but only if you agree with me, honey" he smiled, kissing your shoulder.

"Are you serious?" you asked him after processing his words in your head. He nodded, his hand playing with yours as he waited for you to say something else.

"I would love to, Sungie. I already consider you and Jisu as my family, hell, I feel happy when she tells her friend I'm her mom. So yes, if you're really sure, I want to do it. Let's have a baby" you smiled excitedly, moving to kiss his lips sweetly.

"Then we should keep practicing, shouldn't we?" He joked, winking at you after you ended the kiss. You hit him playfully, giggling at his question.

From joking about it, you two ended up having sex on the tub and staying there until the water got cold and the candles lighted out, and yet, when you were cuddling in bed ready to sleep, you couldn't stop smiling. It had been a fantastic day and even better night and early morning.

Next morning when Jisung saw you walking to the kitchen with his shirt on, he kissed your lips and greeted you with a "good morning, future Mrs. Han," a plate of pancakes in front of you.

"I'm so lucky to have you" you told him, to which he replied with "I'm so lucky to be loved by you."

And you decided that this was pure happiness, you didn't have anything to worry, and you loved your family and your friends a lot, you were almost done with college and starting to plan a wedding. Maybe you weren't rich, but you had everything you wanted and maybe a little more.

After all, engraved in the ring Jisung gave you, it said "for my soul mate", so you had him, for as long as time lasted, and he had you, the missing piece of the puzzle of his life.

You complemented each other, and comprehended each other. What you two had could be considered 'true love', and you were thankful to the universe for placing this single dad in your life, showing you what happiness, and what love was.

"I can't wait to marry you" you sighed, daydreaming about how you wanted the wedding to be.

"And I cannot wait to call you mine legally" he responded, kissing your cheek.

"I've always been yours"

"That's good, because you'll always be mine in the future as well. No quitting now, babe!"

[brandyllyn]

To sell your love for peace (01)

Javier Peña x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Summary: You weren’t his type but he was willing to make an exception.  Words: 2500

Other Chapters My Masterlist 

Rated: Hella Explicit.

Warnings: language. fingering. PiV. prostitution. Javier is a normal amount of asshole.

You were pretty. That was the first thing Javier noticed after you threw open your apartment door. Not the brittle beauty of the girls that he usually preferred, but a basic almost wholesome kind of pretty that he knew a lot of men paid good money for. Javier stepped inside, carefully scanning the street behind him and then guiding you back into your apartment with one hand on the base of your spine. He closed the door behind him, being sure to lock it.

You introduced yourself and he nodded. "Javi," he offered, holding a hand out and taking note of the calluses on your fingertips when you took it. He scanned the small living room, taking in the quilt hung on the wall and the small painting of flowers near the kitchen.

"Can I get you a drink?" You asked, hands nervously running down your thighs. He nodded and you disappeared into the kitchen, the skirt of your dress skimming across your thighs. He took in your assets almost dispassionately. You had a cute, girl-next-door vibe. Someone a man could pretend to be in love with for the night.

You probably had more work than you knew what to do with.

The whiskey bottle you held up was exactly what he was hoping for and he nodded at your questioning look. You met him in the living room with two glasses, walking around the threadbare couch and settling onto one end. He sank into the other, shrugging his jacket off.

"Vanessa says you know each other-"

"From work," you finished for him, glancing at him from the corner of your eye before looking away. He was used to this. A lot of men were harsh with the girls, and as a result there could be a hesitancy in women in your profession around unknown strangers. It was important that he made himself as non-threatening as possible.

"From work," he echoed, taking a drink from his glass but not probing on that subject further. "How long have you lived here?"

Glancing around the apartment you shrugged, "A few months? I moved her from Medellín last fall."

Javier made a note of that, sipping his whiskey. "The place is nice, I like the quilt."

You smiled, finally, seeming to relax a bit. "My grandmother made it."

He smiled back, "I have a blanket my great-grandmother crocheted. Ugliest thing you’ll ever see. Old bat was colorblind." You gasped and choked on the whiskey and his grin grew wider. "You okay?"

"Yes," you croaked, holding a hand to your throat. "Just, went down the wrong way." Your eyes met his from under long eyelashes. "My grandmother would murder me if she heard me talking about her like that."

"Mine’s already passed," he shrugged. "I’m not worried."

"I’m sorry." You reached out and touched his knee and then jerked your hand back. He clocked that as well.

The whiskey was good, not expensive by any stretch but not cheap shit either. He watched as you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt, glass in one hand. Finally you said, "Vanessa says you’re… that you can pay. For… information."

This was what he had been waiting for. He leaned forward, dropping his glass to the table and turning his body towards yours. "That depends on the information."

You swallowed and nodded to yourself. "I know some… I heard something. About…"

He knew this dance as well. Knew why you were hesitating. "If you help me I promise to do everything I can to keep you safe."

You nodded again, still not looking at him. "If I knew something about Escobar. And his plans. That would be worth something?"

"If it turns out to be true," Javier raised an eyebrow. "If it helps us, then yeah. It’s worth something."

You nodded, silently staring into your glass.

"Do you know something?" he asked, watching your face. You stared into the distance before the words tumbled out.

"There’s a hit. On Friday. The Minister of Finance."

Javier blinked. He knew that. Six weeks of surveillance by the CIA hoping to find a connection for their own purpose had dropped the nugget of information to the DEA. It had taken a lot of wrangling and horse-trading to get the info, and even now he could admit it was more dumb luck than skill that had gotten them the notice.

Dumb luck, skill, and now you dropping it in his lap.

"How do you know that?" He asked and his eyes narrowed when you shook your head at him.

"I can’t- please don’t ask me that."

Also not uncommon. If the relationship continued he’d get it out of you eventually. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a pack of smokes, giving you a questioning look and offering one to you. He lit it after you gave permission, letting it dangle from his fingers as he watched you.

"How do I know this is good intel?"

You sighed, setting your glass down on the coffee table. "The man, the one who is going to do the hit, his name is Jackal."

Javier sat bolt upright, dropping his cigarette across his empty glass. That was a name he’d only heard a few times. A sicario that had thus far evaded any attempt to get a photo. "How the fuck do you know that name?"

Again you shook your head. "I asked you not to ask me that."

He bit off his retort. If you had a lead on Jackal, even if it was only hearing about him in passing, then he needed you to keep offering him intel. Needed you to trust him and tell him how you knew this. He pulled his wallet out with a grunt, opening it and thumbing through the contents. Javier looked at you through the cigarette smoke as he dropped a twenty onto the table.

"Until I can confirm," he paused and looked you over. You weren’t really his type. He liked his girls primped and preened, long nails and perfect makeup. But then again, there was something about the smooth skin that your dress showed, the curve of your thigh, the way he could see your nipples pebbled against the fabric. You weren’t his type but he was willing to make an exception. Slowly raising an eyebrow, he held your eye as he counted out another sixty bucks. "Yes?"

You nodded, licking your lips, the action making his cock stir. He added another twenty onto the pile, making it an even hundred, before folding the remaining cash and shoving it back into his jacket. "Drink up," he motioned at your glass, picking his cigarette up and taking a puff.

"You’re beautiful," he said conversationally and you choked again. His brow furrowed. It was just something to move the night along. To get out of the idea of you being an 'informant' and back into your day - well night - job. The girls usually liked it when he complimented them, winking at him and offering to show him all of their beautiful parts. But you seemed flustered and your chest heaved.

It was an amazing act.  

"Can I kiss you?" A standard question. Every girl had a different standard for what they were willing to do - the intimacy they were comfortable with. Judging from your look and demeanor - your schtick was 'hometown sweetheart'. Javier was pretty sure the answer would be yes.

Sure enough you nodded and he carefully set his cigarette to the side, shuffling across the couch and cupping his hand behind your neck. Pulling you closer to him and gently pressing his mouth to yours. Your lips parted on a gasp and he took advantage of it, thrusting his tongue deep and licking inside of you.

You smelled sweet. Tasted it too. He was used to women who tasted like cigarettes, maybe alcohol - just like he was sure he did. But you tasted like sugar and he delved his tongue deeper into your mouth to chase it. He wondered, idly, if you would taste as sweet all over. If maybe tonight would be the night to break his general distaste on going down on a hooker. He always thought, in the back of his mind, that he would end up with a mouthful of someone else’s cum if he did.

He didn’t begrudge you your profession, but there were some aspects of it that frankly didn’t interest him.

You moaned softly and he wrapped his arms tighter around you, guiding you backwards until you spilled down onto the couch. He slipped his hand under your shirt to palm at your breast, your back arching up to him with a small gasp. Oh, he liked that. The air of inexperience rather than the usual carefully orchestrated arches and moans. He thrust his tongue into your mouth, finding your nipple with sure movements and rolling it between his fingers.

You cried out, your hands tugging at the strands of his hair and your thighs parting so he could settle more firmly between them. His lips ghosted down your neck, digging his teeth into the soft flesh and you trembled. You fucking trembled and Javier made a mental note that he had gotten a deal with the hundred he had dropped for you.

His hands pulled at your clothes and you dropped your own to help, pushing the top of your dress down. Reaching behind his neck he pulled his shirt over his head, not bothering with the buttons, and then leaned down and pressed his chest to your bare skin.

"Fuck you feel good," he groaned into your mouth, tongue darting out to taste you once again. Your fingers skimmed down his spine, slipping beneath the band of his jeans and then rising back up. He wanted your hands on him and he reached behind himself to catch one of your wrists, dragging it between your bodies and pushing it beneath the denim. Your touch was soft at first, hesitant, but a thrust of his hips pinned your fingers between his cock and your stomach and he could rock himself into your palm.

It took very little adjustment to press his mouth to your breast, to pull your nipple into his mouth and tug. Your hand clenched around his cock and you let out a soft whine that sounded almost like his name. He grinned, moving to your other breast, rubbing his cheek to your soft flesh.

"You smell like cookies," he groaned, licking underneath your breast and then up to your neck. "Fuck, how do you smell like fucking cookies?"

"It’s vanilla," you gasped and he pressed his nose to your neck, inhaling the soft scent. It reminded him of home, of lazy weekend mornings and a domesticity he had left behind in Laredo. Powdered sugar on almond dough and canned preserves pulled out for Sunday breakfast.

Fuck he definitely hadn’t paid you enough.

He shifted his weight on the couch, reaching down to stroke up your thigh. He felt you shiver and then his fingers met soft cotton. Soft, damp, cotton.

"Oh sweetheart," he pressed his lips to your cheek, pushing the fabric aside and running his hand through your slick heat. "You’re so wet. For me?"

You didn’t answer but your thighs parted further and his thumb slipped over your clit. He heard you gasp, pulled back to see you bite your lip and arch your neck.

"Can you come for me pretty thing? Come on my fingers before I fuck you?"

The hand that was in his pants shifted, fingers wrapping around his cock more fully and he dropped his forehead to your shoulder and matched your movements, slipping two fingers inside of you. Felt you squeeze around him even as your hand tightened and slid across his cock. If he wasn’t careful he was going to come in his jeans like a fucking teenager.

He sat back on his heels, using his free hand to pull your hand out of his pants. With a careless twist of his wrist he flipped your skirt back and tugged your panties to the side. "Oh that’s a pretty little pussy," he growled, "you think you can take three?" He didn’t wait for a reply, pulling your hips up so they rested on his thighs and then slipping three fingers deep inside you. You reached over your head with both arms, twisting your hands into the pillow under your head. The action lifted your breasts up higher and Javier wished he had a third hand so he could pinch your nipples while he played with you.

Three fingers in your cunt, two fingers of his other hand rubbing across your clit. He could fucking hear how wet you were for him, felt your muscles clench around him, your knees rising further to his sides. "Yeah, fuck baby that’s it."

He wouldn’t say you screamed when you came. The sound was lower than that, more of a helpless cry than anything else. Your mouth opened in a perfect 'O' - a shape made to take his cock. Maybe next time. Right now, he wanted to be inside of you.

His jacket was on the floor and he retrieved a condom while you were still recovering, slipping it on and giving himself a couple of short tugs. Leaning forward and propping one hand on the pillow next to your head, he pushed your panties to the side. Lining himself up and slowly sliding inside of you.

You had been tight on his fingers, on his cock you fit like a fucking glove. He pressed all the way, watching your face as you took every inch of him. The way your forehead crinkled and you bit your lip. Then your eyelashes fluttered open and you met his eyes.

Fuck, you smiled at him.

He fell across you, thrusting his tongue into your mouth and taking you hard and fast. He could feel your nails raking down his back, your legs lifting to wrap around his hips. He wanted to make you come again, wanted to feel you shudder and moan beneath him.

But your hands came up to cup his face and you moaned "Javi" directly into his mouth and he fucking came. Body hunching over yours as he cursed and grunted, fucking hard into you and then dropping his forehead to yours.

"Fuck I’m sorry," he mumbled, kissing you softly.

"For what?"

He groaned and pulled out of you, leaning back to the other side of the couch and stroking his hand along your calf. "I’m not usually such a fucking two-pump chump."

You pulled a blanket from the back of the couch, tucking it under your arms and covering your legs before sitting up and placing your hand over his. "Maybe… maybe we try again?"

Javier leaned his head back and shut his eyes. How the fuck did that make him feel worse? "No, I have to go. There’s something I gotta… anyway. I can’t stay."

"Oh."

He turned and looked at you, reaching out and chucking you lightly under the chin. "Maybe next time?"

Your smile was bright enough to light up the fucking city. For just a moment Javier felt like he was the only man in Bogatá.

God damn you were good at this.

.

Pt 2

.

Taglist:

@hnt-escape, @kesskirata , @supernaturalgirl , @notabotiswear , @wonderlandgabby , @pascalesque

[mouthfulloftoothpasterry]

Feeling like a family

Summary: Y/n visits Harry during his lunch break, letting him in on the relationship both her and Milo have with Xavier. Then they go to the zoo and have a little family day :) 

warning/ disclaimers: swearing, family issues. 

Things have been going amazing with Harry and Y/n. Ever since their date a couple weeks ago they have been seeing each other more and more. Harry has been coming into her bookshop while she’s working when he can. Just to surprise her and make her day a little better, sometimes he brings her lunch on the weekends and she visits him when he is spending hours after school hours grading art work and setting projects up for his students. 

It’s been new and exciting, and extremely fun. Not to mention the kissing has definitely been a plus. They went to have coffee with each other a couple days after their date, spending a good portion of the morning together. They have basically been inseparable since, Harry even invited Y/n and Milo over for dinner so they could all get to know each other better. Loralie was just excited to have guests that weren't family, and also to see a friend from school outside of school. She had a great time with Milo, they played together while Harry and Y/n cleaned up dinner together and snuck kisses in the kitchen. 

It's another Wednesday. Harry had Loralie and Milo's class now and he is letting them finger paint. It’s mainly been a calm class, he didn’t have to deal with much usually and if a kid did have a melt down the teacher and/or teachers assistant would deal with it instead of making Harry deal with it. “Looks great, Lora,” Harry says, kissing the top of Loralies head before scooting past her and walking over to his messy desk. He has papers, projects, markers, paints, all over his desk, even with all the time he spends after school he feels like he may never get it organized. 

“My mummy likes your daddy.” He hears, looking up to see Milo and Loralie talking. His cheeks turn crimson when he hears it, did they really give it away that easy? Their children now caught onto the fact that the two were dating? That was just embarrassing. “My daddy likes your mummy.” But that was more embarrassing. 

Harry ignores it (and the burning in his cheeks) and just hopes that the teacher will hush the class. He busies himself with cleaning his desk, trying to shove the papers into the drawers and file folders that they belong to but his mind is still distracted. He’s gonna have to tell Y/n that their kids know. The bell rings and he looks up from his desk. “Okay, you can leave your paintings where they are. I'll put them on the drying rack and you’ll get them tomorrow!” Harry sings, moving over to Loralie to kiss her cheeks and say a goodbye until he sees her at lunch time. “Bye daddy” she says, waving to him after kissing his cheek and joining her class. 

Harry laughs, letting out a sigh and putting the messy finger paintings on one of his many drying racks. It’s his lunch time now. He has to supervise lunch so he gets his break before everyone else. 

He wanders around his class room, doing random things and cleaning up his messes that he’s made from the two days of the week before him. He didn’t have plans for lunch, he would probably just have an extra big dinner. He’s happy to find Y/n cured his rumbling tummy when he sees her walking through his classroom. He smiles, chuckling at her big dramatic smile that was obvious teasing. “Hi, darling.” He says, leaning over his desk to press a kiss to her lips. 

She sits on the art table in front of his desk, setting two to-go boxes down. “Hi,” she says back, handing him one of the to-go boxes. “No sitting on the tables.” Harry teases while he reaches out to take the white Styrofoam box in his hands, quickly thanking her. “Suck it up.” She shrugs, her feet setting in the chair that was once tucked under the art table. “I just got you a sub and fries.” She says, plucking a chip from her box and taking a bite out of it. 

“Why Are you here? Not that I’m not happy to see you, of course.” He smiles, reaching over and giving her hand a squeeze. She shrugs, tapping her shoes down on the chair while she pulls her food into her lap. “I forgot to put Milo's' lunch box in his backpack so I had to drop it off.” She says, making Harry smile. So he thought she would have lunch with him? She’s adorable. “So how’s your week been, babe?” Harry sings, sitting back in his big office hair and relaxing into it while he eats. 

“Fine. Milo's dad visited.” What?! Since when did he come around? And since when was he “Milo's dad” and not “Xavier”? Harry knits his brows, gulping down his food before he responds, a little nervous. Harry and Milo are best buds, they have grown closer and he’s tried to pay him more attention when he sees him in class as well, he doesn’t want their friendship to be ruined now, even though what he is thinking is selfish. Milo deserves a good daddy. 

“Since when does he come around?” He asks, Y/n rolling her eyes at his tone. “He’s a photographer so he’s always traveling the world. I mean he pays child support, he’s not a shit dad. I just have my own issues with him.” She says, her tone heavy with annoyance. Harry was under the impression that he was a horrible dad and didn’t even try to care for Milo, but now he hears he pays child support and visits? 

“I just thought he didn’t care.” 

“Well… he’s trying. Like I said he’s traveling the world so he can’t always see him but he pays child support and he’s trying to come around more. He did come over and take some cute photos of Milo though.” Y/n smiles, remembering how her baby posed so well for the camera. He was shy at first but then they found a stray kitty out on a walk and he was more than willing to pose with it. 

Harry nods, taking a bite out of his sub. He finishes his bite and wipes his mouth with the brown paper napkins, “Is he gonna take Milo for the night or something like that?” Harry questions. Y/n is happy that Xavier is trying to see him more but she doesn’t think she would be able to be away for a night, especially when he doesn’t see Milo that much anyways. “I don’t think I would be comfortable enough to let Milo stay with him, for now at least. But he’s flying off and leaving Friday so I don’t have to worry.” Y/n confesses, taking a bite of her sub while she waits for Harry’s response. 

“Yeah, I understand that.” 

They eat together before Y/n deems it time for her to go. Giving him a hug and a kiss goodbye before she heads out and opens the book shop back up, letting Harry finish out his day. 

*********************************************

Harry and Y/n had made plans to take their little ones to the zoo. Y/n told Harry that Milo had been going on and on about lions so it was the perfect time for them to go. Harry has packed up Loralies stroller, putting snacks, his wallet, and her diaper bag in the bottom carrier. Luckily (but also unluckily) Milo is at the age where he does not want to be in a stroller, every time Y/n tries to put him in it while they are out he complains and tries to get out of it the whole time. 

Harry had picked them up, driving about an hour to the zoo. Milo and Loralie babbled to each other the whole ride which made their parents happy- meanwhile they were just humming to the radio and making small talk the whole ride. 

“Are you ready to see the lions?” Y/n coos to Milo, pulling him out of his car seat and setting him on the ground, holding his hand so he doesn’t run off in the car park. Harry pulls Loralie out, pulling out her stroller from the back, preparing to put her in it. “No! I walk today.” Loralie says with a bit of aggression in her voice. Harry hands with his hand up defensively, “okay, but you're gonna want it after walking in the heat for hours.” Harry takes her stroller despite her not wanting to be in it, she takes Harry's hand instead, walking next to Milo. 

Their first stop is the stingrays, getting the food from the people who work there then getting down in front of the large pond to pet their slimy skin. Milo and Loralie giggle the whole time, pulling their hands away as soon as they feel like slimy stingray and making dramatic gross faces that make their parents laugh. The kids definitely had fun feeding them and petting them but Harry and Y/n instantly shipped them off to the bathroom so they could wash their hands. 

Next is the walk through aquarium, “come on, it's this way.” Y/n says, cooing down at Milo and fast walking toward the cave shaped aquarium. When they walk inside it's lit up blue. They look all around them and they see lots of fish, big whales, all different things. “Woah!” Loralie exclaims, making Harry laugh, kissing her cheeks. All of a sudden Milo breaks out in loud giggles, pulling at the length of her mom jeans. “Mama, Look!” Milo giggles, pointing to a fish sticking to the aquarium glass, looking like it's making a silly face at everyone. Y/n laughs, squatting down and wrapping her arm around Milo, resting a hand on his belly. “Let's go see them” Y/n says, pulling him up on her hip and kissing over his cheeks. She takes him over to the silly fish while Harry lets Loralie look around, staring above her at the large fish swimming by until she stumbles back. Harry catches her, standing her back up and taking her over where Milo and Y/n are, showing her the fish that Milo was trying to touch through the glass. 

“He's so cute.” Harry compliments, laughing at how Milo's is so obsessed with the silly looking fish. Y/n turns to look at Harry, thanking him cockily- taking all the credits for his adorableness. Harry bumps his nose with hers in a butterfly kiss while their kids are looking straight ahead. He gives her a peck while the kids are still distracted then he turns back to the fish. “Okay, it's time to go look at the animals!” Harry cheer, pulling Loralie off of the ledge she was standing on. 

They walk through the entrance of all the animals, seeing some monkeys. Loralie and Milo start to imitate the monkeys, giggling at each other and the animals. They move onto koalas, waving at the cuddly animals before they get to see the lions- this is what Milo has been waiting for. “ROAR!” Milo yells, trying to climb on the wooden fence between the people and lions. Y/n giggles at him, pulling him off the fence and on her hip. “You’re a baby lion, aren’t you?” Y/n coos, kissing his forehead. Milo nods before she pulls him in her hands, extending him out. “Nants ingonyama bagithi Baba!” She sings, making the boy giggle, roaring again before she pulls him back in, kissing all over his face, making him squeal and push away. 

Meanwhile Loralie wants to pet the real baby lions. She’s got a frustrated face on since Harry didn’t let her climb over the fencing and pet the furry lions. Harry can’t help but laugh at her. They walk a bit more, walking for a while until they go to their next exhibit. 

It’s all calm until Milo starts screaming. He sees a bird wandering free, it was a large blue bird with huge feathers framing its head. Y/n knew that the peacock was harmless, they wouldn't let it wander free if it was, but Milo was gonna be scared of it regardless. “No, no!” He yells, backing away from the bird, trying to scold it for just walking around. Y/n laughs while Milo grips onto her leg, wagging his finger at the bird and yelling at it for scaring him. “It’s not gonna get you, bubba.” She laughs, pulling him into her hip while they get to the penguin house. 

They walk into the cold penguin house, their noses instantly crinkling from the smell. “Brrr” Loralie says, running her arms up and does while her teeth chatter. Harry laughs, tossing her little jacket over her shoulder to warm her up. “Look at the baby penguin.” Harry coos to Loralie, holding her up to the glass so she can wave at the little puffins. “Tiny!” She squeals, waving at the baby penguins. 

“Yeah,” Harry laughs at her. “They are tiny, Lora.” He agrees with her, giving the back of her head a kiss before settling her back down on the ground, letting her wander off a few feet away to look around at the penguins a bit more before they leave and look at the polar bears. 

After the polar bears, they head to the gift shop, Loralie gets a purple bucket hat with a blue monkey on it and a stuffed penguin she named “tiny”. Milo got a shirt of the name of the zoo and a matching stuffed penguin that he couldn’t choose a name for just yet. 

They head back to the car, Loralie’s legs are tired on the walk but she refuses to go in her stroller, instead Harry holds her while they take the long walk back, one arm holding Loralie up to his hip and the other latched with Y/n’s hand while her other hand holds Milo's. Once they get to the car Loralie and Milo get buckled up in their car seats, sure to fall asleep soon. 

Harry and Y/n get into the front seats, their hands instantly finding the others. “I had a nice day with you.” Harry smiles, his face only inches from hers. Y/n blushes, giving his hand a squeeze. “Yeah, I had a lot of fun.” She says, focusing on Harry’s thumb rubbing at the back of her hand. They hear little whispers and giggles, turning their heads back to their little ones. “Kiss, kiss, kiss!” They whisper- chant. Their parents' cheeks instantly burn, looking back to each other with big cheesy smiles on their faces. 

“Well?” Harry shrugs, leaning in and pressing his lips to her. She giggles on his lips, both of the kids in the back yelling. “Ew!” Loralie says. “Gross!” Milo agrees. 

The parents laugh, pressing one last peck to each other's lips before Harry starts up the car. They had a good day together. Harry got closer to Milo and Y/n got closer to Loralie. It kinda feels like they are becoming a little family.

Hii!! if you liked this please reblog and tell me what you thought of it!! please let me know if you would like to be on my tag list!! and please make sure you have read the first two parts :) 

tag list: @romionefp @iaalien @hopeyoustaythenight @evanjh

[hansolmates]

me time (m)

summary; the first time virgin!mc meets her mans (but she doesn’t know it yet) pairing; jungkook x virgin!mc genre/warnings; fluff, college!au, boarding house!au, based on the virgin!oc discourse, female masturbation (thanks to the pretty bridgertons), a lil sad and longing at the end w/c; 1.3k a/n; y’all really brought manhater!mc and virgin!mc to life! this couldn’t be done without all of your fabulous input and support. obviously the virginverse is freeform at this point—think of this more as a prequel for these two. set in freshman year of college, when they’re just acquaintances. (do you guys think of cher from clueless when u think virgin!mc? very outgoing n’cute but also very innocent?) anyway, happy valentine’s day i hope you and your boo (whether digital or in-person) get your me/we time💖

Your wooden lap desk is toppled to the side. Good thing the space between the mattress and floor is small, your pink monstera-shaped rug softening the blow when your water bottle, pencils and laptop fall to the floor. In the back of your head you know everything is fine because the last episode of Bridgerton is still playing, an orchestral version of Ariana Grande’s Thank U, Next continuing on as if nothing’s astray. 

Yet you’re nothing but astray, forgotten about the episode and writhing against your too-small twin as you let yourself cum for the umpeeth time. 

You’ve lost track at this point (how couldn't you? Bridgerton is hot) but from the way your hair mats to your face like a second skin and your pussy feels spent and battered, it’s been awhile. This should be your new Valentine’s Day tradition, fucking yourself until you pass out on your vibrator. 

“Ah, ah fu—uck, yyyes!” 

The sheets are sopping. The grey cotton fabric does nothing to hide your juices that seep from your bare cunt to the mattress. Flinging your silicone toy to the side, you pull your hair up and out of your face. 

Water, you need water. Maybe a cup of green tea with a dollop of honey. Sugar always helps the immediate low after a good couple of rounds. 

However, you’ll never get used to the feeling of cleaning up yourself. The feeling that you’ve done something completely lewd all on your own, no one to assure you the things you’re doing are weird. It’s okay though. You love to be alone, it takes a lot for you to feel lonely. 

You slip on a pair of dolphin-cut shorts, too tiny that they are drowned beneath your emerald green slip dress. Quickly opening the door to your room, you’re met with absolute silence. White walls containing empty rooms and a living room without a soul. Just like you’re expecting in a college boardhouse on Valentine’s Day. 

What you’re not expecting however, is Jeon Jungkook staring at you the second you crack your door open. 

“If you’re screaming that loud, your partner must be doing a good job.” 

Jungkook lives on the other side of the boarding house, therefore you’ve never really interacted with him. Excluding the landlord there’s only five other tenants, a group large enough that you’ve never had to have one-on-one with him. 

You really didn’t think anyone would be in the house on Valentine’s, especially Jungkook. He’s an absolute cutie pie, even though you don’t know anything about him. The only thing you really know is that his sparkly brown eyes are to die for, they remind you of coffee milk tea, a craving you only indulge in at the end of finals season. 

To your surprise, Jungkook looks like he hasn’t gone out all weekend. Him, single? As if! Yet you can’t justify any reasoning behind him being home if did have a girlfriend or boyfriend. His dark hair is fluffy and freshly showered, and you can’t ignore the smell of linens from his soft sweats and long navy hoodie. 

Normally, you’d be quiet during Me Time. You’ve perfected the art, stuffing your mouth with your pillow or playing action movies to muffle out the sound. You thought you were in the clear. The thought of Jungkook overhearing you turns you on a little, makes the dampness between your panties even more evident, but you keep that self-indulgent secret to yourself. 

“Oh, well,” you curl your lips in a smirk, closing the door behind you so he doesn’t see that your room is actually very much devoid of life, “she’s very powerful.” 

She, meaning your favorite vibrator in your entire world. It has ten settings and a heating mechanism. More importantly, it’s rechargeable. You don’t know how you’d survive freshman year otherwise. 

“Okay, TMI,” despite the fact Jungkook’s blushing he’s chuckling, holding a hand out for you in the narrow hallway, “after you.” 

You quickly slip past him, walking into the shared kitchenette. Bare feet slapping against the hardwood, your eyes immediately gravitate toward the upper cabinet. Jungkook is following you, presumably to get his own late night snack. When you lift your arms to reach your mug, you feel a little bit of cool air brush against the uppers of your thighs. It’s a nightgown, a pretty satin slip  that falls over your curves and leaves much to the imagination. A couple more centimeters to get your mug and you’ll be definitely flashing Jungkook. 

“Um,” you practically hear the twisted face he’s making. 

“Sorry—I’m sorry!” you blurt, waving your fingers to catch the handle of your mug, “I’m really not trying to flash you—please don’t fill a harassment report! I just can’t reach my mug.” 

“No, that’s my mug.” 

“What, no! I’ve been drinking from this mug all year!” 

“You’ve been drinking from my mug?” Jungkook is affronted, walking past you to easily grab the mug you’ve been struggling to reach for the past minute. He flexes the bottom part of the mug in your face, where his initials are painted in black. “This is my mug, my parents put my handprint on it when I was a year old.”  

It’s then you notice on the lower shelf, there’s an identical mug. This mug has been buried all the way in the back, dust collecting on the rim. It also has a baby handprint on it, although upon closer inspection it’s smaller and in a more faded shade of black. That’s your mug. 

“Oh, Jungkook,” you feel your heart fall all the way to your ass, feeling guilty, “I’m so sorry. I’ve washed it and everything, if it makes you feel any better.” 

He frowns, holding the white porcelain between his hands. A litany of ideas run through your brain. Is he disgusted by using the same mug as you? Have you potentially ruined a prized family treasure? 

Thrusting the mug into your chest he says, “Make me a hot chocolate and we’re even.” 

You smile a little, eager to please. You quickly get to work, simmering the pan with warm milk and melting chopped chocolate. You rinse your mug with some hot water, letting it sit next to his awaiting mug. For a bit of flair you add a capful of vanilla extract, all while Jungkook watches you with mild awe. The smell of sweet late night confections fill the kitchen, a fitting theme for a Valentine’s night. 

“You’re not burning the milk,” Jungkook murmurs more to himself than you, watching as you pour the hot chocolate in cups without spilling a drop. 

Jungkook is known to burn things in the house. The only thing he doesn’t burn is ramen, and that’s purely due to survival skills. 

“What can I say, I’m an expert,” you wink, handing him his mug and you holding yours. 

With matching mugs, the two of you take your first sips of the melty beverage. You lean against the stove facing him, while he faces you against the marble island. Jungkook smiles and a bit of cocoa touches his petal pink lips. He says it’s perfect and you smile into your cup, absolutely swelling with pride. 

Jungkook’s probably working on his photos. He always says his editing bug is itchy at night. While in passing you’ve said you’d love to see his work, however that gesture of kindness never really amounted to anything. Maybe tonight’s the night. You like art, you’d love to be a little more educated with it. Just as you’re about to ask and strike up some conversation, Jungkook beats you to it. 

“Well, hope you and your partner have a good Valentine’s,” Jungkook holds his cup in salute, walking back into his room, “just keep it down.” 

Oh well. You sigh to yourself, letting Jungkook walk away without a fight or a retort. After all, it was you who implied you were sneaking in a bed partner tonight. Sinking your eyes into the brown liquid, you fall into a lull. The creamy liquid swirls in your grasp, making your muddied reflection ripple away. 

You love to be alone, but it takes someone like Jeon Jungkook to remind you that life gets a little lonely. 

[sningo-prompts]

A series of events!

-Ingo returns to the future, as a hisuian sneasel

-Emmet finds him, takes him in, finds out who he is, all par for the course

-until it’s made public knowledge that subway boss Emmet has a hisuian sneasel

-and one superfan looks down at their johto sneasel and thinks to themself, ‘hmmm…’

So, they aren’t the best trainer. They mostly have their Pokémon for show, right? So this sneasel is a bit neglected and a bit listless and doesn’t really care when it’s trainer goes to a ton of effort to get it looking like a hisuian sneasel

It’s not *perfect* of course, I imagine Emmet wouldn’t let the press get any super clear shots of sningo. But it’s pretty damn close

And they take their diy hisuian sneasel into the gear station like ‘check this out!’ and they get a ton of attention, almost immediately get in over their head

From here ive got a couple branching paths of ideas. Maybe station employees see what’s happening and confiscate the sneasel, thinking it’s sningo. Sneasel is deposited with Emmet— Ingo isnt there for whatever reason, and Emmet ends up very worried that Ingo’s lost himself/his sense of identity before picking up on the differences and deciding that this poor Johto sneasel is His Now. (Or the very least it’s the stations)

OR

some shady folks have been hanging around gear station hoping to get their hands on sningo, and in the commotion both the fake and the genuine article get snatched by two different groups.

Emmet goes after the wrong one.

Im so tempted to use Jasmine Spencer for this lol. Maybe at the end ill put a little bonus of her.

So Emmet and Ingo are indeed famous so they probably do have fans who just take things a little too far. So one fan decided to dye their sneasels fur to match what few photos could be found about Emmets. This fan (im a call her Madison)so Madison of course isnt the worst battler, i mean you cant even meet the twins without on the battle subway if you suck at battling. Shes never been good enough for that though lmao. But she is a regular at the station and the staff knows she’s trouble. She has lets say a record with sneaking into places shes not supposed to be. So she probably has better pictures of Sningo than the press. Thats how she ended up doing such a great paint job. Im sure there are pokemon safe dye and what not that she can use though ill leave that up to you if she does it the face away. Once happy with her work she sets to taking her sneasel to the station to show it off. Of course she uses a pokeball to transport her sneasel so its pretty easy to sneak it in. If people saw her walking around town with the sneasel she never would have made it all the way to the station after all.

Her goal? Why do this? Well she wants to get close to Emmet so having a rare pokemon like his is her plan. Once at the station she releases her sneasel and starts ranting about how it came to her. How the sneasel picked her. Must be what happened with Emmet. They are chosen for something… together. The press are eating it up!! Asking her question after question but she wasnt ready for all this. She just wanted Emmet to notice her and to be closer to him. Now theres a crowd and they are all hounding her. The station staff quickly get to her and take her to a staff room. Somewhere private for questioning idk. Someone goes to get Emmet while they wait. The station staff know at this point that Ingo has been turned into a white and purple sneasel so they arent buying her story. They know how Emmet and Ingo got back together so they know everything shes saying is false. They try to confiscate the sneasel from her to which she just returns it to its ball. Right when Emmet walks in. Oh snap!! All Emmet has seen is this chick catch his brother. He walks up to her, giving off vibes of death, and just holds his hand out. Not a word said but the moment she looks up into his eyes all she knows is fear. She hands him the pokeball to which Emmet quickly releases the sneasel. Kneeling down Emmet asks if they are alright. The sneasel just looks confused. Thats not How Ingo reacts. Grasping the sneasels shoulders Emmet is almost to tears. The sneasel doesnt respond to anything. Just looks blankly at Emmet. The station staff see Madison out and leave to give Emmet a moment. Emmet tries anything and everything he can to jog Ingos memories but nothing is working. When Emmet has a full on break down the sneasel tries to comfort him but its all wrong its not how Ingo would do it and it makes things worse. He feels like hes lost Ingo again. Hes alone again. No not again he cant do this again. Where does he eve start. Then when hes cupping the sneasels face he sees it. A small spot where the dye didnt cover. He quickly looks the sneasel over. Upon a closer inspection he can see it now. This isnt Ingo. This is just a normal sneasel. Oh the relief is so overwhelming he cries all over again hugging the sneasel close. Oh thank god.

Once he calms down a bit he can start thinking rationally again. If this isnt Ingo then where is Ingo? Drying his face he reclaims his composure and calls the staff back in. He informs them what he has found out and has them help him search the station for Ingo. They check all his usual nap spots or hiding places (sometimes the station can be overwhelming to Ingo and he needs a little safe spot to calm down). Finally finding him oh Emmet has had a day. Hugging his brother close Emmet probably cries a little bit again. Ingo is so very confused. That is until he is brought the the staff room where he sees a similar looks sneasel. Big oof Ingo gets excited to see one that survived and rushes to it. Asking all sorts of questions. What a let down for him too. So they really are all gone. Nothing left of his lady after all. He let himself have hope again just to find it was a trick. Emmet hates seeing Ingos disappointment. Emmet explains the situation to Ingo. Well now Ingo understand Emmets desperation earlier. When they go to confront Madison it turns out she just fled. Leaving her poor sneasel behind. Someone on the staff quickly volunteered to look after the sneasel. Of course they pick up Ingo by mistake. Who quickly yelps out. A cautious laugh as they set him back down. A glare from Emmet which leads to rapid fire apologises. Though by the end of the day no real harm was done at least. At least till the next day that is... DUH DUH DUHHHHHH ~~~~~~ ok so im gonna make this a two or three parter post i think cause my phone is almost dead and i suck at typing on my computer cause i type to fast and cant really get the proper punctuation in. plus i make a lot a lot of errors. but i do plan on making the bit about  the sneasels getting nabbed dont worry! went back and forth on what to call the new sneasel. we had Jefferson we had Simon, we had Franklin, Fletcher, even Bingo came up. i dont think im sold on Danny tbh but if yall come up with something better please feel free to send em in causei can always change this post to fit the new name

[wandanatfluff]

The Life That's Left To Live - Part I - Take Me Home

Series (This part:) Fluff

Prologue | Part I

Summary series: You’re a little girl when the avengers find you. Natasha becomes kind of a mother to you. Then about 7 years later when you’re 21 you go live with the avengers again for a while, because they need your help with something. The avengers are like a family to you. Wanda is still new to the avengers and doesn’t know what happened in your past. You sleep in Wanda’s room in an extra bed and the two of you become friends. You are a quite happy, social and spontaneous girl, but there’s a sad/depressed side to you that sometimes comes to the surface.

Summary of this part: Natasha calls you with information about your brother and you go to the Avengers compound, where you meet Wanda.

Pairing: Natasha (mother figure/mentor) x Female Reader Wanda (platonic (for now at least)) x Female Reader

Warnings for this part: -

Word count: 2.2 K

A/n: To be honest I think it turned out okay, I spent quite a while on this. Title: Take Me Home, by Chord Overstreet. The fic isn’t directly based or related to the song. The title just fits ;-). The series title is a line from Love Is War, by RUNAGROUND. I hope you enjoy it!

Source: Pinterest

Absentmindedly you listen to the person in front of you. Some annoying colleague that is going on and on about a something that you would have done wrong. They had been going on for almost ten minutes and by now, you had stopped listening. Your mind drifted off to happy memories. It was something you did quite often. By reliving old memories once in a while, they would become recent in your mind again, which made it easier to go back to them, when you were feeling low. You thought about your younger self on the back of your brother’s bike, your small arms wrapped around his waist, your head pressed against his back. It had been his birthday and he had gotten a new bike. You didn’t like bikes, but when he asked for you to ride along the neighborhood with him, you gave in. Your childhood was filled with a lot of fear, but your brother always seemed to take that away. He was in almost all of your joyful memories. He was your safe place.

Your phone chimed, snapping you back into reality. You excused yourself from the ‘conversation’ and left the room. Once you close the door, you answer your phone.

“I owe you Nat! You saved me!”

“Hey Y/n… What did I save you from?”

“Some colleague, who was being incredibly tedious.”

“Need me to kill anyone?”

“Uhm… No. But what are you calling about?”

“We got new information about your brother and we need your help with it.” You fell silent for a moment at the mention of your brother.

“Oh... What is it?”

“I’m sorry Y/n, I can’t tell you over the phone. You’ll have to come to the compound.”

“Okay… I can do that. I’ll leave tomorrow morning and be there around dinner time?”

“Perfect. See you then.”

After cooking yourself some dinner you went to your room to pack. You dug deep in your closet to find your weekend bag. It had been a while since your last trip. You don’t travel that much. To be honest, you don’t travel at all. Your daily routine leaves just enough time for your daily work-out, some me-time and occasionally a movie. Staying busy avoids overthinking stuff, or well… overthinking more specific things. It took you a while to build up a routine. Have breakfast, work out, drive to the office, do your work, pretend to listen to the gossip from your fellow colleagues during the lunch break. Not that anything about your life is very challenging, but it’s just enough to keep you satisfied and to survive. Every now and then when you have a day off, you go shopping with a friend.

You are quite the cheerful girl. You are spontaneous and kind, people get along with you. You have a few friends, but none really close. The only close friends or family you have, are Nat, Steve, Tony, Clint, Thor and Bruce and you haven’t seen them in the while.

You had to empty your entire closet, but you finally found your white weekend bag with the subtle, pastel flowers pattern. You smile at it. It had been a gift from Nat. You used to have a boring and old grey bag, so she had bought you a new one. After you throw the bag on your bed, you start to fill it with clothes. You had no idea how long you’d be gone, so you packed for five days. Once your bag was fully stuffed you zipped it closed and threw it over your shoulder, making you way back to the living room.

You throw your bag next to the counter and are just about to get yourself some coffee, when the bel rings. You grab your phone and see Natasha standing in front of your door through the camera. Natasha had bought you a doorbell with a camera, to be sure you were as safe as possible when she wasn’t there. Aware of the camera she smiled at you through it. You chuckle at the sight and walk to the door to open it for her. Moments like this remind you of how amazing Natasha is. She had the key to you appartement, but chose not to use it, so she wouldn’t unnecessarily scare you.

“Surpriseee, figured I’d pick you up myself!”

“Hey Nat, come in!”

You take her jacket and hang it on the coat rack.

“How are you doing?”

“Good, actually. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Just coffee, please.”

“Got it.”

You go back to the counter and get yourself and Nat some coffee. You open the fridge and get two pieces of the pie that is left from your graduation ceremony. With two slices of cake and the coffee you go to the living room. You hand Natasha, who has sat down on the couch, her coffee and put the cake on the side table.

“Oehh, is there something to celebrate?”

“Yup… I got a job!”

“Y/n! I am so proud of you. I knew you could do it!” Tears begin to well in Natasha’s eyes and she puts down her coffee to give you a hug. You bury you head in her neck and let out a small sniff. She knew what it meant for you to get your first real job. The small party one of your friends threw had been basic. Everyone had congratulated you, but Natasha was the only one who truly took her time to express her happiness. She was the only one who knew what it meant to you. It had been a long way, a long, long way, but you made it! You did it!

She had been there with Steve when you graduated. She had driven six hours, just because she knew what it would mean to you, having her there. It had been a surprise, she hadn’t told you she was coming, so when you saw her from the stage you had broken down in tears.

You catch up a bit, after which you both go to bed. You turn the sofa into a bed for Natasha so she can sleep on it, but before you rest your eyes, Natasha helps you fill another suitcase with clothing. She laughed at the sight of your single bag and suggested you’d pack another suitcase.

*** After six hours of sleep Natasha wakes you up. You take the time to get out of your bed, you take a shower and put on some make-up. In a pair of light skinny jeans and a lively orange tank top, that complemented you tan, you sit down at the kitchen island. Natasha had made you breakfast and after you finished it, you got in the car. The ride would take about six hours, so before hitting the road, you stopped at the supermarket to get some snacks and drinks for on the way. After three hours you had a pit-stop at the MacDonald’s to get some lunch. You ordered the food via the McDrive and ate it in the car on the parking lot. When the food was finished you hit the road again. You had switched places, meaning Natasha would finish the drive to the compound. Natasha was still sipping from her milkshake in one hand, her other hand on the wheel. You leaned against the door with you head on your arm. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin as you dozed off.

A bump in the road woke you up.

You shot up straight. When you realized there was no danger, you leaned back into you chair, resting you head against the headrest.

“Slept well, princess?” Nat teasingly said.

“Nat!” You stumped her shoulder with your elbow. She grinned, but kept her eyes on the road. A comfortable silence fell and you closed your eyes again, not intending to sleep again though.

“No, but for real. How have you been sleeping?” You knew what she meant. She wanted to know if you still had nightmares. They would still terrorize your nights sometimes. You would wake up sweating and shaking. Wide awake you would sit in the middle of your bed at midnight, tears running down your cheeks.

“Uhm, okay, I guess. Some nights better than others.” She turned her head to look at you, giving you a sweet smile. She laid her hand on your leg, her palm up. You put your hand in hers, giving it a slight squeeze.

“Now we’re talking about sleeping, a few rooms are under renovations, so the rooms are full. You can sleep in Wanda’s room. She has an extra bed on her room.”

“Is she okay with that?”

“I think so.”

“You didn’t ask her!?”

“No, but I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”

“Nat…”

“Just kidding, I told her she would have to share her room with you.”

“And…?”

“She was fine with it.”

*** With your suitcase in your hand, your bag over your shoulder and music in your ears, you enter Wanda’s room. On the right side of the room there’s a king-sized bed with two chairs and a coffee table on the left side of the bed, next to the window that covers the entire back side of the room, providing a view of the trees and water next to the compound. On the left side of the room there is a large wardrobe, a door to the bathroom and in the corner there’s a single bed, parallel to the window. Above the bed there’s a shelf with a plant, some books and a light string. The room wasn’t very decorated, there weren’t many personal items. One wall was painted in a grey tone with a hint of purple and there was a purple bedspread, covering the lower side of Wanda’s bed. On the nightstand was a photo of Wanda, standing next to a boy with white hair. You figured it must be her brother, Natasha had told you about the twins and the tragedy. Apart from the photo and some plants, there was nothing personal in the room.

You walked to the bed you’d be sleeping in and dropped your bags on the floor. You sat down on the bed and with your feet still on the ground you let your back rest on the bed, closing your eyes as you take the time to take in the feeling of home. To be honest you feel more home at the Avengers compound then at your own appartement. After a few minutes you got up from the bed and put on some upbeat music as you start to make the bed.

Singing along to the music cheerfully, you put the duvet in its cover. With both corners of the blanket in your hands you shake the cover over the duvet. With the music in both your ears you didn’t hear someone come in, so when you feel a hand on your shoulder, you are slightly startled. You quickly stop the music and take out your AirPods. You turn around to lay your eyes on a beautiful woman with coper locks flowing over her shoulders.

“You must be Y/n.”

Wanda knew who you were, your name would regularly come up in a conversation. She didn’t know much about you other than your name. You were kind of a mystery to her. She was new to the team and hadn’t personally met you yet. One thing is clear to her, though. No one bothered to mention how gorgeous you were. With a lump in her throat, she looked into your eyes, once you had turned around to face her. The woman that was standing in front of her seemed like a nice, cheerful person. She had a beautiful smile on her face, but there was something in her eyes that showed her happiness hadn’t always been a given. She took her in, her hair up in a high pony tail with curtain bangs accentuating her face, she was wearing an orange tank top, which showed off her tanned skin, on top of light flared jeans and elegant black ankle boots. Jeez, she was beautiful.

“Guilty as charge.” You responded. “It’s my pleasure meeting you…”

Witty too. You reminded her of her brother.

“Wanda.”

“Ah Wanda! Natasha told me so much about you. Nice to finally meet you. Oh, and Natasha said I could sleep here for the time being. Is that okay with you?”

Natasha talked about her? That was a good thing… right? To be honest Wanda was rather intimidated by Natasha. Even though she had been welcomed with open arms into the group, once, you know, she had switched sides, it had been quite hard for her to adjust to the group.

“Yeah, she told me. It’s fine”

“Cool”

“Do you need help with the bed?”

“Oh no, I’m done.”

She noticed the bed was nicely made and saw your weekend bag, half under your bed.

“You can use that dresser if you want, and if you want to hang any of your clothes, you can put them in my closet.”

“Oh thanks!”

“No problem.”

“I was about to start dinner, the rest should be back in an hour.”

“I’ll make sure I’ll be there on time, I wouldn’t want to miss whatever culinary art you intend to make.” You said teasingly.

“Great, I’ll see you in an hour then

[emmyhem]

always (l.r.h) part two

a/n: hi everybody! here is always part two, this is actually one of my favorite writings and one that I was looking forward to writing and posting a lot. it’s another angsty piece but with a sappy happy ending :) also it’s unedited but what else is new. i’ll probably post again tomorrow either a bestfriend!calum piece or a roomate!luke piece that are titled in my masterlist. i hope everyone enjoys and is having a wonderful day. i definitely am after that livestream today. (i would say that i didn’t cry because of how good and happy they all looked but that would be a lie) anyway i hope you enjoy and as always my messages are always open to chat or whatever and feedback and comments are always appreciated. thank you - emmy <33

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader 

summary: it’s time for you decide whether or not luke’s mistake is worth losing the love of your life. 

warning(s): mentions of alcohol, cursing, angst (but with a happy ending), self doubt, insecurity, mention of throwing up 

word count: 2.9k

pt. 1

The longer you watched the window the more you were convinced mother nature was taunting you. The rain droplets that cascaded down the glass mirroring the tears that hadn’t stopped falling since you left Luke speechless in the driveway. It had to be for your benefit, I mean it was Los Angeles. California was in a drought for god’s sake. 

Despite the fact that nature was mocking you, you couldn’t dare pull your eyes away. The alternative was to face the endless voicemails waiting for you on your phone that glowed dimly beside you. You knew you would have to hear them eventually but right now you knew that even a breath, let alone full sentences from Luke would break you in every sense of the word. You feared the sound almost as much as the content behind it.

 You weren’t ready to be okay, you needed to wallow in your pain for a bit longer. As bad as that sounds you knew it was the only way you could convince yourself to let him back in, to forgive him. It was also the only way you could forgive yourself. Your body needed to feel how tortured you were without him, how much you needed his affection, his love, and him. Not his money. 

Part of you knew deep down that Luke didn’t mean what he said, the part that awakened the butterflies that had taken permanent residence in your stomach since he had entered your life. The part that caused all your senses to align when Luke kissed you the night you finally understood what it meant to love someone with everything you have. The same part that was clawing at your heart right now as your mind replayed the look of pure devastation that was painted on Luke’s pretty features as you drove away from him. That part was itching for you to run to him, to cuddle into his embrace and say “I forgive you. I’ll never leave you again. Love me?” 

But, it was the other part of you that was causing the problems right now, the part that snuck up on you each time you felt secure in yourself and tore it all down in seconds. The part that told you there was no way you were good enough for your boyfriend when you stared at your reflection in the mirror for even a second too long. The part that Luke was typically the one to silence when it overwhelmed you in a crowded room, with just a tender kiss to the forehead, or squeeze of your hand. The same part that constantly craved for Luke to be proud of you the way you were of him in anything he decided to pursue. That part was completely shattered last week when, whether intentionally or not he showed you that not only was he not proud, but also felt burdened by your lack of brilliance. 

“Y/n,” your friend called, breaking you from your self-loathing thoughts as she approached your brittle body, enveloped in every single fuzzy blanket you could get your hands on. 

“Hi.” you croaked, pulling your stinging eyes from where they had settled on a particularly large rain droplet that had stolen your interest as you wondered how much more water it could withstand before it burst from its flawless embodiment and shattered to the sill below. You wondered the same about Luke, how much more of your insecurity and emotional baggage would it take for him to burst. How much more of your mediocrity could he compensate for before you began to strip him of his excellence? 

“Have you talked to him yet?” she inquired, eyes going soft as she looked at you with sympathy. 

“No.” you groaned, pulling yourself up. “Do I have to?” 

She shook her head, dismissing you. “You know that you’re welcome here as long as you want, but anyone could tell that you’re completely miserable without him, even if he is being an epic prick.” 

You sniffled and wrapped your arms around your best friend.

“Am I an idiot for wanting to forgive him?” you spoke into her hair. 

She returned the embrace and settled next to you in the bed, “I think if he really is sorry then you’re incredibly strong for it. And you’re never an idiot, that would be your blonde haired beau.” 

You laughed softly at her innocent dig, the giggle catching slightly in your throat as it had only been releasing pathetic pleas, and broken sobs for the past few days. 

Y/f/n handed you your phone, the photo of Luke and Petunia sitting by the pool being almost completely covered by all the missed call notifications that had taken over your lock screen. 

“I think you should at least hear what he has to say babe, for your sake if not for his.” 

You let out a heavy sigh and accepted the phone, wrapping your favorite blanket around your shoulders and dragging your feet to the bathroom for some privacy. 

You took a seat in the empty bathtub throwing the blanket across your body. You reasoned it was the perfect place to listen to the messages because as soon as Luke’s voice flooded the room you would be completely submerged in him and you didn’t trust your legs to hold you up. 

You clicked the most recent voicemail, time stamped from 1:28 am last night. As you selected the speaker option you allowed your eyes to fall closed and without noticing or trying you held your breath. 

“Y/n,” 

Only one word in you could immediately tell two things without a trace of doubt. One, he’d been crying, and two he was drunk. If you had to guess you would say tequila, it had always been his favorite and he had a bad habit of nursing his wounds in the liquor cabinet. It shattered your heart to think of him broken, and vulnerable and as he continued to speak you found yourself wrapping your arms around your body for comfort. 

“I miss you and I’m sorry. I-” his voice cut off as a sob played through your phone. You released a matching one while squeezing  your eyes tighter, a shaky hand bringing your phone closer as if it would bring him as well. 

As he continued, your mind began to paint a vivid picture. You saw him sitting on the kitchen floor, an old ratty sweatshirt struggling to keep him warm, damp tear stains spoiling the sleeves. There was a half empty bottle to his side and the tip of his nose was red as it peeked out from the hood. You shook your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the image that felt like your personal nightmare.

“I-I can’t live without you, really I don’t think I can. I need you and I love you. I love you so much. Just please come home to me, please baby.” he spoke through gasps of breath that caused worry to spread across your body.

You paused the message as a dull ache creeped up from the bottom of your stomach and to your throat which was tightening by the second. You tossed your phone onto the blanket which you had kicked off as your body heated up, and sprung out of the tub landing firmly in front of the toilet. Gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail in your hand you hunched over and retched into the bowl. Y/f/n burst through the door as you gagged and coughed repeatedly, she took your hair from you and rubbed soothing circles on your back as you tried to focus your breathing through your nose. This wasn’t the first time you had cried yourself into throwing up during your stay so she knew what to do to calm you down and settle your stomach. 

As you finished the glass of water she had poured from the sink while you brushed your teeth she held your car keys out to you. 

“Please go see him. I can’t see you like this anymore.” 

You nodded accepting the keys reluctantly and made your way to your car.

 Once outside you noted that the rain had started coming down harder, it seemed fitting as your situation reached its climax. By the time you got into the car your hair was wet and stringy, dripping onto Luke’s shirt that you had been wearing since the night you left. You quickly tied it back and drove away, hoping the sound of the rain could calm your nerves before you got back to your house. 

When you got there the sun was setting and the rain was still falling steadily, you grabbed a jacket from the back seat and held it over your head as you ran to the house. The jacket didn’t give you much protection from the water and you were soaked by the time you reached the door. Taking one big breath, in through your nose, and out from your mouth as you had been repeating the whole ride there, you raised your quivering hand and knocked three times. 

Expecting it to take a few minutes for him to reach the door you were shocked when it swung open in just a few seconds. Your heart sunk as you took in Luke’s appearance, although you were sure you looked just as bad if not worse. Deep dark circles sat beneath his bloodshot eyes, his stubble had grown in a bit longer than he typically liked it and his lips were chapped and bitten down. Guilt panged in your chest, how awful of a girlfriend were you to let it get to this point? The thought made you question if he would even want you here. 

Apparently the time apart had completely fucked with your ability to read Luke’s face because even frozen in shock, his eyes began to fade into that special soft color of blue they only got to around you. He felt as if a giant weight had been lifted from his chest and just as it had been since the moment you left the only word running through his head was “y/n.” 

He didn’t see your messy, wet hair or the ratty tshirt that swallowed your figure. He didn’t see your eyes puffy from crying or your bitten down nails that you were bringing back up to your mouth in that moment as your nerves got the best of you. All he saw was y/n. His y/n. You came home to him and as far as he was concerned you looked like an angel. Warm, sweet, and perfect. So fucking perfect. 

Your eyes ran over his face anxiously, waiting for him to say something, or invite you in, or even slam the door in your face. Anything. After a minute of silence you gathered up the courage to speak first. 

“Sorry I never called you bac-'' your words were knocked from your mouth when Luke took a step forward and wrapped you up into the tightest hug you’d ever experienced. Your limbs fit together perfectly, and the second your bodies met you felt recharged, as if everything was in place once again. And Luke felt like for the first time in a week he could breathe. 

“I don’t deserve you.” he sighed as you pressed your nose into his chest deeply breathing in the smell you could only describe as home. “Thank you for coming back to me, I don’t work without you.” 

From your position in his arms you could see the mess splayed on the floor behind him. It was just as you had pictured it earlier, a thin blanket and scratchy throw pillow were scattered on the floor in front of the sink, a bottle lying on it’s side just next to them. Guilt inched up your spine when your eyes made contact with a framed picture of the two of you on top of the blanket. 

“I’m sorry.” you sobbed into his chest, your hands clawing at the material of his sweatshirt. 

He pulled back quickly, keeping his hands on either sides of your waist, “No baby, why’re you sorry. This is all my fault, I was awful. You...you’re perfect.” he pressed as you shook your head in distress, unable to stop your tears. 

“N-no I stayed away for so long, even when I knew I wa-wanted to forgive you. I was embarrassed and...and selfish.” you struggled to speak over your tears while Luke looked down at you sad and confused. 

“What’re you talking about, love?” 

You sniffed and dropped your hands from Luke’s chest, “I j-just wanted you to be proud of me.” the end of your sentence was nearly lost in your sobs but Luke understood. And in that moment he regretted going into music instead of engineering, or science, or whatever would’ve helped him to invent  a time machine so he could go back and beat the shit out of whoever or whatever had possessed him last week. 

His hands moved to cup your cheeks, his thumb tracing lightly over your bottom lip. 

“I am proud of you baby.” 

He leaned in slowly, and hesitantly, almost as if he was testing the waters, like this was new. As if he hadn’t kissed you thousands of times before. You looked up at him through your lashes littered with unshed tears and nodded your head slowly. He still had so much left to say, you still had so much left to say but you both had been needing this for as long as you’d lost it. He pressed his lips to yours gently, afraid that even one wrong move and you would decide that you had made the wrong choice in coming back. He wouldn’t survive that, he couldn’t lose you twice. 

As he went to pull away you snaked a hand around the back of his neck pulling him back towards you. This time when your lips collided his body sagged into it, both arms wrapping around your back and lifting you up to the tips of your toes. Your eyes drifted shut and you reveled in the feeling of him pressed up against you like this. When the kiss broke you kept your faces close enough that your noses were touching, and opened your eyes to see Luke’s still closed, his eyebrows furrowed as he pressed his forehead to you. 

“You’re what I’m most proud of.” he exhaled, his eyelids still shut lightly. “My greatest achievement is getting you to love me and I can’t believe I almost blew it.” 

You brought a hand to his face and stroked his cheek lightly, the feeling of his overgrown stubble foreign to your fingers. 

“It would take a lot more to get rid of me.” you assured. “I think m’too in love with you.” 

He opened his eyes, locking them with your own, and spoke firmly but with a softness that was and would always be reserved for only you. 

“I want to make it clear that you do not in any way leech.” he dragged the last word out, laced in disgust as if it were hard for him to say. “I lucked out. I actually just seem to keep lucking out, my job, my life, and you.” He placed a hand across your jaw and tilted your chin up before continuing. “I completely lucked out with you. I have lots of money, more than I need actually and it makes me feel fucking incredible that I can take care of you. That’s all I wanna do for the rest of my life.” 

Your mouth broke into a smile hearing him verbally commit to a lifetime with you. 

“But, with that being said I know you don’t need me-” 

“I do need you.” you interrupted. 

Luke threw his head back at your words, a toothy grin overtaking his face before he pressed a chaste peck to your forehead. 

“Y’know what? You’re too fucking cute. I meant financially baby, m’trying to apologize here.” 

You nodded for him to continue, struggling to contain your own beaming smile. 

“Anything you decide to do occupationally or otherwise could never, ever let me down. You’re physically incapable of it. I’d be a lucky guy if you let me stick around for it all and I promise to never forget that again. I’m sorry I did in the first place.” he took a deep breath before finishing his rant. “M’only able to give you the world if you let me. Let me?” 

You answered his question by attaching your lips once again, desire and need radiating off of the place where your lips met. As your taste buds reacquainted themselves with Luke’s mouth you wondered how you had gone even a day without him. 

Luke felt like he was flying and he couldn’t wrap his head around how anyone in the world could live without, seeing you, knowing you, and kissing you. He also knew that he would do anything to ensure that he never had to go a day without you for the rest of his life. 

“How long does it take to get an engagement ring sized?” he wondered to himself. 

If he could’ve read your mind he would’ve seen white gowns, tiered cakes, and little blue eyed, curly haired monsters running amuck. 

“I want everything with you, the whole world.” you affirmed when you pulled apart for air. 

“Yea?” he responded. 

You hummed against his lips, “Always.”