#that's enough. trying and failing at typing on my phone tonight I think

[jestiamy]

why does life hate me. I'll think something smart and then I'm like. no it's okay I'll pen it down in a few seconds. and then I forget so now I just have to sit here and live the rest of my life forgetting that thought

[elllisaaa]

fjhkvdhfvd I LOVE YOUR BF THOUGHTS SO MUCH!!! you write them so well 😭😭😭 can we please get a vernon one!!! ahhh

thank youuu so much ! i'm really glad this concept gets attention because i really like doing this, hope you'll like it !

BF!VERNON who's maybe not the most expressive but who knows how to show you that he loves you through many other ways.

vernon says "i love you" without any words, and actually, you love it that way a lot. for example, whenever you recommend a song to him or when he sees you listening to something he doesn't know, he's gonna go listen to it too. you have a shared playlist and he also made you a playlist filled with songs that reminded him of you, and the lyrics or vibes sometimes hit so deep it makes you tear up how much he gets you. this is something recurring between you and vernon - the non-verbal communication. you can literally spend hours and hours with each other without even speaking because you don't need words to understand each other. that's something vernon loves a lot because sometimes he just wants to hold you in his arms, scroll on his phone and not talk at all. both of you often have stay at home dates rather than going out, but vernon always makes sure to plan a fun activity - like building legos, trying to learn how to paint or doing scrapbooking with pics of the two of you. it allows you to test some activities you wouldn't usually have and it's fun when it's with him.

"what are we doing tonight baby ?" - "it's a secret, but i know you're gonna love it."

he stares at you a lot whenever you're doing mundane things - washing the dishes, simply reading or when you're putting on makeup. it's so domestic, it makes his heart beat faster and think about marrying you soon. vernon also does this when you're talking with someone else, staring at you because he just loves to see you live and shine. he always has a faint smile on his lips when he's watching you, and generally, he smiles a lot around you. that's something his members quickly noticed, even before the two of you got together. and you never fail to tell him that you love his smile, and that flusters him every time. actually, every one of your compliments makes him shy. however, he often flusters you very easily with some random words or gestures and gifts that make you fall in love with him even more. vernon is the type to just look you in the eyes and bluntly tell you that you're gorgeous just because it crossed his mind suddenly how pretty you are.

"why are you looking at me like that ? is there something wrong with my makeup ?" - "you're so pretty, i don't understand how it's possible."

if sometimes vernon just wants to stay quiet and not say a word, there are other times where the two of you end up talking for hours, jumping from subject to subject because one of you always has something to tell, something to debate about. when you are talking together, it's like you're inside of a little bubble where only you and vernon exist and you love it. that leads to the both of you having so many inside jokes that nobody gets - you're laughing like maniacs when everyone else around you is just confused and doesn't understand anything. honestly, sometimes your couple looks a little awkward from the outside, but it all fits perfectly and the way you're just so right for him is something vernon still has trouble understanding. sometimes, when he thinks that he doesn't deserve you, that he thinks he doesn't do enough to make you happy, you need to remind him that he's been perfect from the start. you can count the times you saw vernon crying with your fingers, but he knows that every time he's down, he can just let go in your embrace and let himself be vulnerable.

"i feel so safe when you're here, i don't ever want you to leave."

BF!VERNON who's just going with the flow because as long as he's inside of you, it doesn't matter if he's in control or not.

he's much more talkative when it comes to sex because he just cannot shut up when you're doing so good for him. whether it's praises, just some random thoughts, babbling or degrading words, he needs to speak to you through it. when he wants to tease you, he whispers his dirty words directly in your ears, knowing how much it turns you on. when he's just so lost in how good you feel, he just says whatever is on his mind - mostly compliments and swear words. when he's in a more romantic mood, he's constantly praising you, telling you again and again that you're perfect and gorgeous. and vernon also likes it when you're talking to him too, loves to hear you say how good he's making you feel, that you're close or that you want more. generally, the noises you make are really appreciated, even going as far as stopping you from putting your hand over your mouth when you think you're too loud because vernon wants to hear it all.

"shit… you're taking me so well, baby, i don't think i'm going to last if you keep squeezing around my cock like that."

just like vernon loves doing new activities with you, he also loves to experiment in the bedroom. you want to test something ? he's down. you have an unusual fantasy that you want to try ? no problem. after all, there's no harm in doing something out of the ordinary - if you both like it, it's good, and if you don't in the end, then it's okay too, you just won't do it again. that's how he discovered some things he didn't think he would like but that slowly became his favorites, like hair pulling for example. you ask him to pull on your hair all the time when he's taking you from behind, and he loves to do it to punish you too, but he came to wonder how it would feel if you pulled on his instead. so he asked, you did it, and he never wanted you to stop. no matter if he's eating you out or fucking you, vernon wants your fingers tugging on his strands hard enough to make it hurt a little. sometimes, you're pulling at each other's hair, moaning together at the feeling.

"want me to pull on your cute ponytail ? then pull on my hair too, yeah ? fuck, just like that…"

as stated before, he loves to watch you do almost anything, but he loves to watch you get off even more. when you're fucking, he cannot detach his eyes from your glistening folds, from his cock thrusting inside of you or from your face contorting in pleasure. so sometimes, he just leans back and asks you to touch yourself for him. he knows you're frustrated because he's just one feet away and he won't touch you, but he can't help it, he loves to see you masturbate. the fact that you whine about how your fingers cannot reach as deep as his, and that it's not fair gets him so hard. if vernon is in a teasing mood, he will even jerk off in front of you, just to make it "even". the feeling of cumming together, eyes in eyes, while you're both touching yourselves is unmatched for him. also a lot of phone sex is involved, whenever he's away, he calls you at night and asks you to facetime him and show him your cunt, to touch yourself in front of the camera for him. sometimes, he's jerking off too, but sometimes he only watches you reach your orgasm while biting his lips.

"show me your pretty cunt, baby. you're needy ? then put one finger in for me."

[whore-era]

1-800-GIRLS - part 2

☁︎ modern!ellie x sex-hotline-operator!fem!reader, very small mention of dealer!ellie ☁︎ summary: in which ellie takes her favorite phone sex hotline operator out on their first date! ☁︎ warnings: contains smut! 18+ only. top/dom!ellie, bottom/sub!reader, interactions with men, dirty talking/praise, fingering (r!recieving), use of fem nicknames, slight mention of petplay, let me know if i missed anything else pls. ☁︎ a/n: back by popular demand, and to thank you all for 1k. i love u all from the bottom of my heart. thank u all so so so much. also there will be NO PART 3! s/o to my girl @clearheartgreyflowers for staying up w me til 3am writing smut LMAO ☁︎ word count: 5,124 ☁︎ 1-800-GIRLS part 1

thursday, 1:15am → ongoing call with sir steven (ft. lauderdale, FL)

sir steven (client): thank you, sugar. did good as always, pretty lady.

sugar: no problem, sir.

sir steven (client): have a good night, darlin'. good night.

the line clicks on the other end, and you finally let out a big stretch, able to relax as you close the hotline for the night. you made 13 calls tonight, which usually wouldn't be enough to help with bills, but much to your dismay, ellie had been sending you money nonstop.

it's been a couple of weeks since you first met her in the library, and since then, you've seen each other here and there, most of your communication being made through texts and calls, as you both have been extremely busy with final exams and work. barely getting any real time to spend together besides having lunch together or walking to class when the time allows it.

however, ever since you revealed to ellie your real name and gave her your personal phone number, she's been using it to her advantage — sending you money through applepay/paypal, paying for food to get delivered to your apartment when you tell her you haven't ate that day, or getting uber's or taxis to pick you up when she wasn't able to come get you herself.

she was very persistent in being your provider, insisting that with her income, she could support you full-time and buy you everything you needed and more.

but you didn't have it in you to just quit this hotline gig. you didn't want to feel like you had to rely on ellie, and the last thing you wanted was to burden her with your own issues.

thursday, 1:30am → incoming call from ellie (jackson, WY)

you: ellie...?

ellie: hi baby.

you: why are you calling the hotline? you have my number, silly.

ellie: what? can't check in on my girl?

you couldn't help the flush in your cheeks. ellie never failed to make you blush. she always made a point to flirt, hard, and you both weren't even in a relationship, yet.

you: what can i do for my favorite client?

ellie: hm, how does going out with me on saturday night sound?

you: like...a date?

ellie: yeah, don't you think we're a bit overdue for one?

you: sure! what should i wear?

ellie: 's up to you. you make anything look beautiful.

you hated how easily she made the heat rise to your cheeks.

ellie: are you blushing?

you: ....no.

ellie: liar. just for that, you owe me a kiss on our date.

you: hm, we'll see.

ellie: guess we will.

-

saturday couldn't have arrived any faster, and by the time you knew it, it was 6:00 in the evening, almost time for your first date with ellie.

you couldn't make up your mind on what to wear, trying on different outfit combinations, determining which one you think ellie would like more.

groaning in frustration, you seemingly settled on a baby blue dress, with a light and warm cardigan. the weather was absolutely perfect for this type of outfit, not too hot with just the slightest breeze.

as you touched up your makeup, swiping on your favorite gloss, you couldn't seem to calm the nerves boiling in your belly. what was there to be nervous about? you were going on a date with one of the coolest and prettiest girls you have ever seen in your life.

overthinking every possible worst-case scenario that could happen tonight, you took some deep breaths, shaking off the images of you possibly falling on your face, snorting while you laugh, or accidentally passing gas in front of ellie. oh god, if that were to happen tonight, you didn't think you could ever face her again.

you would have to change jobs. and schools.

"god, jesus, whoever, please have my back tonight," you whisper to yourself, suddenly jumping at the small 'ping' coming from your phone.

unlocking your phone, you see it's a text from ellie:

ellie <3: I'm on my way up baby, u ready?

you: yes! i'm ready hehe

you take the time to lace your shoes at the front door, giving yourself a quick one-over in the mirror to see if you were presentable, at the least.

two soft knocks on the door resonated through your apartment, and you took a deep breath as you unlocked the latch, mentally preparing yourself for tonight.

swinging the door open, you're greeted by the tall, emerald-eyed girl.

"hey, baby," she greets, leaning over to plant a kiss on your cheek, "you look gorgeous."

your eyes fell to the ground, cheeks flushing with crimson. get ahold of yourself. you're acting like a teenage girl with a puppy-love crush, you echoed in your mind.

"thanks, els. you look pretty cute too," you compliment shyly, looking down at her fit — a white shirt complimented with a red flannel and dark-washed jeans. of course, hair styled in her signature half-up ponytail and sporting her white and black converse sneakers.

"ready to go?"

"yeah, let's go ahead."

"cool, just parked over here in the parking lot."

taking hold of your hand, the two of you head out to the parking lot, and she takes the lead in guiding you to her car. her hands felt warm and clammy— and you wondered if ellie was feeling just as nervous as you were.

and she was.

ellie was freaking the fuck out. from the outside, you appeared calm and relaxed, which put her at unease. were you not excited to be going out with her? were you going to like what she planned for tonight? what if you absolutely hated the date she organized? it'd tear ellie's heart to pieces.

but ellie couldn't overthink, especially not right now. she couldn't let her emotions get the best of her, and she only had to think of the present — you.

ellie fished out her keys from her pocket, briefly letting go of your hand to unlock the car and open the passenger side door for you.

getting inside, you mumbled a quick 'thank you'. as ellie scurried to the driver's side of the car, you scanned your eyes around the interior of her car.

what the hell? was she driving a...dodge hellcat? you knew ellie drove, but you didn't know she drove such an expensive muscle car. how much money did she make being a dealer?

her car smelled just like her, fresh and musky, and she kept it fairly clean.

ellie piled in the driver's seat of her car, putting the key in the ignition and turned on the engine.

"soooo, where are we going?" you queried.

"that's a surprise," ellie smirks, and suddenly she places her hand behind the head of your seat, turning her neck to look at the rear windshield as she backed out of the parking spot.

you swallowed thickly, focused primarily on how hot she looked doing something as simple and elementary as reversing her car. the way her neck flexed, the way her arm tattoo looked by your face, and the way she was concentrated on moving the vehicle — suddenly turned the heat up in this confined space.

"you okay? you look a bit warm," ellie asks, interrupting your train of thought.

"huh? yeah, no, i-i'm okay," you smile meekly, "it's j-just a little warm in here."

"oh, sorry," her hands went to turn on the air conditioning, the gentle breeze of cool air providing relief, "there you go. better?"

you nod, "much better, thanks."

"wanna play some music?" she asks, holding her phone up.

"hmm, you can put whatever you want on. i wanna see what type of music you're into."

"okay," ellie says with a wide smile, "suit yourself."

approaching a stop light, ellie uses the window of opportunity to tap away on her phone, searching for her favorite song. the song 'the spins' by mac miller plays throughout the car at a mellow volume.

"great taste. i love this song," you chime.

"yeah? me too," ellie states, "i loved mac miller since like, forever."

eyes gravitating towards ellie, you couldn't help but get lost in a daze at the way she drives, the slight spread in her legs, one hand on the wheel, the stray strand of hair that falls in her face — she was dangerous.

and ellie could feel the burning gaze you were searing on the side of her face, "you okay there?"

"hmm?"

"you keep staring at me."

"oh— uh— i'm sorry. i didn't mean to—" you sputtered, ashamed that you'd been caught red-handed.

"it's fine, baby, no worries. just wanted to know if there was anything on your mind was all," ellie briefly tears her eyes away from the road to check on you.

you had to quickly think of an excuse, something to save you from this embarrassment — "just thinking of where we're going."

the girl chuckles, "well, we're already here."

the neon lights were the first thing that caught your attention, then the rapidly moving contraptions, and lastly the laughter from the crowds of people.

"we're at the carnival?!" you squealed, unable to contain your excitement.

"yea," ellie muttered sheepishly, "uh— i saw on your instagram how you shared the posts about wanting to go on your story, so i-"

you cut her off with a forceful hug, "oh my god! ellie! we have to get out now! let's go, let's go, let's go!!"

"alright, baby, let me put the car in park-" she began, but you were already halfway down the entrance.

-

"wow! ellie! that one was so fun! it was exhilarating!" you breathed out, fueled by the rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins after riding the 'slingshot' rollercoaster.

ellie couldn't be any more amused, smiling down at you, "yeah? you liked that one, babe?"

"yes! i loved it!" you squealed, but as the adrenaline wavered, you began to feel that familiar rumble in your stomach, "it did give me an appetite, though."

"wanna get a little something to eat?" ellie's hand is securely interlaced with yours, guiding you towards the various food stands.

you nod, "mhm, i am starved."

"just tell me what you want, and i'll get it for you, m'kay?" she gives you a smile and squeezes your hand as your eyes scan the numerous items to choose from.

corndogs. cotton candy. kettle corn. pretzels. chilli cheese hot dogs. funnel cake.

"hmmm, i think i want some funnel cake," you suggest, "we can share it."

"sounds good to me," ellie shrugs and you both fall in line. she orders and pays for the sweet treat and the worker hands her the food, as you find a vacant picnic table to sit at.

digging into the crispy, creamy treat, you couldn't hold back the moan of delight that came from your mouth.

"oh my god! this is amazing!" you moan, whip cream getting all over your lips.

ellie was too busy hyper-fixating on the cream that sat on your lip, and before thinking about anything else, she swiped it off your bottom lip with the pad of her thumb, bringing it to her lips and sucking it clean.

"mmm, delicious," she commented, then consumed the dessert as if nothing had happened.

leaving you stunned, you gulped the cup of water she gave you, attempting to soothe the heat seeping down below.

"so, which ride do you wanna get on next?" ellie spooned more of the funnel cake in her mouth, looking up at you, awaiting your response.

"not sure, why don't you choose? i picked the last one after all," you clean your spoon off, getting every last bit of leftover ice cream.

"we can ride theeee..." ellie scours the carnival rides, "...the haunted hospital."

your heart fell to your stomach, you hated anything related to horror.

"oh no..ellie, i don't think i'll be able to ride that—"

"are you scared?" she taunts in a playful tone.

"yes. i'd be covering my eyes the entire time, el."

"good thing you have me with you, i'll fight anyone who gets too close to you. promise."

"fine."

when you both finish the funnel cake, you quickly discard it and ellie rushes you over to the line to the haunted attraction, but as the line goes by quicker than you anticipated, the fear began to set in deeper and deeper.

"ellie, i'm scared," you whisper as you both approach the front of the line, watching the people in front of you climb into the little mechanical car and disappear into the darkness.

"hey, i'm here, baby," she coos, rubbing your back, "besides, it's all fake, okay? 's not real."

and on cue, the attendant calls you both up, "next!"

walking slowly towards the black cart, you get on first and take a seat, with ellie following closely behind you.

"alright, hands up," the attendant commands as the handlebars latch down and lock onto your lap, "keep your hands and feet in the cart at all times. have fun."

as the cart begins to move forward and ascend into blackness, you curl into ellie's body and her arm instinctively wraps around your body, holding you tight.

this is exactly where ellie wanted you, up close and personal. she wanted an excuse to hold you all night, and after seeing the 'haunted hospital' sign, she knew this ride was the perfect place to do that.

your heart was pumping in and out of your chest, preparing for the worse to pop out and jump-scare you.

"ugh, i can't look," you stammer, covering your eyes. ellie takes hold of your wrists, gently taking them away from your face.

"hey, just focus on me, okay?" ellie whispers, her hot breath fanning in your face, "it's just me and you."

"o-okay."

and the fear that took habitat in your belly faded away, your mind zeroed in on ellie and how close she was to you. if you even breathed too hard, you probably would’ve accidentally kissed her.

but luckily for you, ellie was five steps ahead.

she reached her hand out to cup your cheek, resting it on the soft, warm skin of your face.

"can i kiss you?" ellie asked, her mouth taking over her brain, but she didn't mind it. she wanted to kiss you. she's been wanting to kiss you ever since she heard your voice that night she accidentally called you.

“please. please, kiss me.”

leaning in, ellie pressed her lips on yours, her other hand snaking around your waist, pulling you in closer. her lips were soft and inviting, and they tasted sweet — they were definitely a good distraction from the horror props popping out at different intervals. 

her lips leave subtle pecks along your lips, enamored by how your lips tasted, and how it left her wanting more. 

ellie pulls away, inciting a small whimper from you, “the ride’s about to end, babe.” 

“hmph, okay,” you pout and ellie pecks your lips again.

“we’ll have plenty of time to continue later,” she reassures you with a laugh. as the both of you emerge into the light, back to the entrance of the attraction, you notice your lipgloss smeared all over her lips, eliciting a small giggle from you.

“what’s so funny?” 

you point to her lips, and her eyes dart down to her face, using her sleeves to wipe off the pink gloss from her mouth as you both get off the ride. 

you smile sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you both stroll around the carnival, “sorry, that was my fault.”

ellie smiles and shakes her head, “don’t worry ‘bout it,” she says coolly, “hey, let’s go over there. there’s no line.” 

pointing to an attraction behind you, you turn around and follow her trail, your eyes settling on the ferris wheel.

hand in hand, you both get on the little capsule of the ferris wheel, the employee holding it sturdy so you and ellie would have time to climb in. 

they latched the door closed and you both begin the slow, upward descent. 

“wow, the view is beautiful,” you breathe out, astounded by how pretty the lights looked in the city as you towered over the area below. 

“yeah, the view certainly is beautiful, huh?” ellie murmured, but she wasn’t staring at the view. her eyes were on you, taking in how breathtaking you looked in this moment — eyes glimmering in amusement, perfect, plump lips slightly parted, and hair a bit messy from the breeze, but framing your face in all the right places. she took her phone out, snapping a quick picture, never wanting to forget this moment. 

she moved seats, before, sitting on the bench facing you, and now sitting right beside you. 

“uh, there’s something i have to tell you,” ellie began, her nerves shocking every cell in her body.

“yea? what is it?” you ask, turning to face her, “is everything okay?”

“yeah, yeah, i just—” ellie bit her lip nervously, “i just really like you. like, i think about you all the time. when i first heard your voice that night i dialed you, i just knew i had to talk to you again. there’s just something about you that always brings me back and— fuck, i never thought i’d find myself catching feelings so hard for a girl before.” 

your cheeks were hurting from how wide your smile was, but you didn’t care. ellie put her arm around your shoulder and held your hand with her free one, leaning in closer.

“what i’m trying to say is that— i really, really want to be with you. i want to be the one who you tell the weird stories about your clients to and i want to be the one to take care of you after a long day at class. i want to be the one who protects you and who you share your favorite meal with. i just— i really want you to be my girlfriend,” and before ellie continues any further, you cut her off with a kiss.

“if this is your way of asking me to be your girlfriend, the answer is yes, ellie williams,” you answer, briefly pulling away for air. 

ellie’s smile grows wider, “cool,” she quirks before connecting your lips again. 

- 

the sun was long gone and the moon had taken over the night sky. but your date with ellie was far from over. 

after spending an evening filled with thrill rides and greasy, fried snacks, you and ellie both decided to calm things down by taking a walk along the boardwalk, occasionally strolling up and down the pier.

“would you say this has been a good date so far?” ellie’s eyes flitter toward you, her arm slung over your shoulder as you stride down the various closed stores and restaurants of the boardwalk. it was empty, only one or two people passing by, but other than that it was only you two. 

“mmm, i’d give it a…six out of ten,” you tease, gaining a scoff from your new girlfriend. 

“a six? seriously?” she shakes her head, “damn, not the response i was hoping for.” 

“i’m just kidding, els,” you giggle, “this date has been amazing. i loved every bit of it. thank you.”

you lean over and press a small kiss on her cheek, watching how the vermilion scatters across her freckles.

“now that’s more like it.” ellie laughs, continuing the promenade forward, with no destination in mind.

your eyes settle on this small, old-fashioned photo booth tucked away in a corner of the boardwalk. the sign above it flashing ‘PHOTOS: 4 different poses’. it was the perfect idea to end the night and have a little souvenir to remember your first date.

you let go of her hand, dashing towards the photo booth, ellie confusedly following after you. you open your bag, searching for some change, and you insert four quarters into the small coin slot. 

“let's go inside,” you enthuse, excited to try out the photo booth.

ellie went inside first, taking a seat on the extremely small bench, barely leaving any space for you to sit beside her. the booth was such a tight enclosure, only allowing enough space for a maximum of two people. 

“i— uh— don’t know where to—” you stammer, but she interrupts you as she grabs your hips, sitting you down on her right thigh.

warmth rose to your face, feeling secure and sturdy sat upon her leg. ellie closed the black curtain, covering the entrance and blocking any light that would shine through. 

“okay, we have three minutes and four poses,” you say, turning your neck to look down at her, “what should our poses be?”

“i dunno, i’m sure we’ll look great doing any. we can jus’ do them as we go along,” ellie shrugged, and the photo booth began to count down from five.

sitting up straight in her lap and fixing your hair, you and ellie put on a smile, and the light flashes white, signaling the end of the first pose.

for the second pose, you turn your head and plant your lips on ellie’s cheek as ellie scrunches her nose up, and the flash lights up for a second time.

for the third pose, you loop your arm over ellie’s shoulder, and you both look each other in with adoring eyes and loving smiles — flash.

you both couldn’t even bother getting ready for the final pose, too lost in each other’s admiring gazes to think properly. you were focused on the jade green of ellie’s eyes, wishing you could jump in and swim in the pools of emerald. ellie was hooked on your face, and memorizing every detail like her life depended on it — tracing her eyes over your pouty lips. 

and as the countdown went to one, ellie smashed her lips onto yours, her arms tightening around your waist to pull you closer. this kiss was different from the ones from before — there was urgency, there was eagerness, there was a burning passion, one you’ve never experienced before. 

her tongue shoves into your mouth, tasting the mint you’ve chewed previously. immodest and perhaps, pornographic wet sounds from your mouths resonate throughout the small photobooth. one of her hands trail from your hips towards your tits, groping the soft, pillowy flesh underneath your baby blue dress, eliciting the faintest of whimpers — a sound ellie has been dying to hear again.

you couldn’t help the arousal building up in your core, compelling you to grind your crotch against the denim fabric of her jeans. 

“e-ellie, i— i’ve never—” you struggle to let out, pulling away from her lips, a trail of spit lingering on your bottom lip, and her lips plant sloppy, wet kisses along the side of your neck. 

“we can stop if you want, sweet girl,” she murmurs against your skin, and you quickly shake your head.

“n-no, don’t stop, p-please,” you gulp and with your approval, ellie’s other hand goes down to hike your dress up, bunching the fabric up around your waist. her hands push your legs apart, and she lifts one of your thighs up to rest on the wall of the photo booth. you were exposed, the only thing concealing your bare, pussy was the thin fabric of your panties.

she sat back against the corner of the booth, leaning against the wall and allowing you space to lean against her body as well. her hand cupped your panty-covered crotch, rubbing against it.

the sudden friction made you jolt, your breath picking up, “b-but what if— what if someone hears us? or—or sees us?”

“then you better keep it down, pup.”

ellie’s hand slips inside your panties, her index finger sliding between the warmth of your folds, drowning in the wet, hot juices leaking out from you, “fuck.”

you let out a pitiful whine, needing more pressure, craving satisfaction. the nights after that call with ellie, your own fingers no longer sufficed the needs your body demanded. you tried so hard to replicate the same feeling ellie gave you that late evening, but there was no avail as you realized the only person who can truly serve your body correctly was ellie. 

“p-please, more,” you begged, hoping she would show you mercy and give you what you wanted.

“please, what? huh? use your fuckin’ manners,” she snides in your ear, breath fanning against your neck. you immediately knew what she was inferring.

“please, daddy, please. i want more,” you bucked your hips up to her hands, and she happily obliged. two of ellie’s fingers made their way to your throbbing and swollen clit, applying pressure as her digits created circles. 

you couldn’t suppress the moan that emerged from your throat, clamping a hand shut over your mouth, careful not to alert any strangers nearby, knowing people would still be able to hear despite the thin, black curtain covering the photo booth.

“you look s’ fuckin’ pretty,” ellie whispers against your neck, and her hand grabs your jaw, turning your head to look at her as she smushes her lips against your swollen, red lips. 

a stream of melodious moans vibrated against ellie’s mouth, and she was drinking it in, savoring the sound of you against her lips. the way ellie’s tongue fucked your mouth felt ungodly, and almost immoral. someone who harbors the power to make you feel how you do is something close to the devil, as pleasure this wonderful was sinful.

her fingers disappear from your clit, leaving you feeling empty. 

“open.” ellie orders and you part your lips. she pushes her fingers in your mouth, and you suck them clean, your tongue lapping the salty juices like a puppy desperate for water on a hot day.

“such a good fuckin’ girl, shiiit,” ellie praises, slipping her fingers in your pussy, continuing the circles on your hardened clit.

“you know what good girls like you get? huh?” ellie’s fingers pick up speed, “they get to cum. you wanna cum for daddy, baby?”

unable to think of any response, you nod your head up and down. 

“use your words, pup.”

“yes, daddy. puppy wants to cum,” you whine out. that was enough for ellie to give you what you wanted. one hand rubbing circles your clit, her other hand pushes your panties to the side and inserts one finger in your leaking hole, gently sliding it in and out.

“ellie!” you cry out, astounded by the added pressure. her finger was long and filled you up almost, completely. 

“gotta stretch you out, baby. get you ready for my cock,” ellie smirks as she slowly adds in another finger, still maintaining her slow, neutral pace. 

your pussy clenches around her fingers, and you scrambled around to grab ahold of anything you can get your hands on. you were drunk on ellie, the way she talks to you — almost condescending — combined with how she had you writhing under her fingers. you were unequivocally hers. you were ellie’s.

she added a third finger to your clit, applying more pressure on your sensitive clit, and her fingers began to pump faster inside your pussy, coating it in a thick, creamy layer of your juices.

“god, you’re such a pretty fuckin’ girl,” ellie kisses the side of your neck, “look at you, making a mess all over my hands, like a filthy pup.”

all your mouth would utter was these weak, pathetic whimpers and moans, fucked out dumb and stupid. you don’t even think you could remember your name right now. 

the familiar feeling of your orgasm coming undone begins to rise, accompanied by a new pressure you feel in your abdomen — the urge to push. 

“daddy, think m’ gonna— p—pee,” you stammer, not wanting to embarrass yourself and closing your legs, “it feels like i have to—”

“baby, let it happen. promise it’s not piss or anything,” ellie reassured, figuring this was your first time squirting. “just let go, sweet girl.”

the sweet sounds of your wet pussy echoed throughout the confined spaces of the booth, just how ellie liked it. it was music to her ears. 

the feeling of your walls tightening around her fingers told her that you were just right on the edge, and she was going to give you that push to fall over and come undone all over her hands.

the pad of ellie’s fingers massaged figure eights on your pussy, almost tracing infinity signs on your clit. her fingers found rhythm and continued thrusting her index and middle fingers inside you, curling up to rub the flesh of your walls, hitting just the right spot and emitting an angelic moan from you. 

ellie was in heaven and she had this honey-sweet angel melting under her touch. 

you squirmed in her lap, your back instinctively arching, about to come apart in this small photo booth.

“daddy, i’m about to— can i? can i cum? pretty please?” you cried out, almost pleading, like you were begging for your life, but you felt like you were going to simply die if you didn’t finish right now. 

“yes, pretty baby, cum all over me,” ellie coaxes you through your orgasm, “make a fuckin’ mess, puppy.”

you came undone, falling apart right there. your pussy clamped around her fingers, a stream of milky-white cream trickling onto her hands. your body overcame your thoughts, and you pushed out — releasing a gush of watery, squirt all over the place. spurting out, imitating a fountain.

ellie pulled her hands out of you, and brought them to her mouth, sucking and licking them clean. still coming down from the high that was your orgasm, your breaths came out heavy and unlabored, a tear falling down out of the corner of your eye and streaming down your cheek. 

“you alright, babe?” ellie asked, fixing your panties and pulling your dress down.

“y-yea, i’m okay,” you stutter, standing up and exiting the photo booth, finding the boardwalk still deserted. legs still shaking, you trip over your own feet and lean on the walls of the booth for support. ellie took hold of your waist, ensuring you don’t fall.

“hey, look, our picture,” she points out, taking the strip out from the slot and showing the black and white photo to you. 

ellie smiles at the strip, “we look good, huh?”

you nod, still simmering down. ellie takes notice of your state and plants a kiss to your lips, rubbing your waist soothingly. 

“how ‘bout we get outta here and get some real food? sound good, baby?”

you nod, smiling, “sounds perfect.”

🫶🏼

[tsumtsumrry]

Favorite Holiday

this follows harry and a cutie (you) through some of your favorite holidays as you guys navigate a little fun friends with benefits/situationship stitch. i feel like this took forever so sorry for my near disappearance but i hope you enjoy!! <3

**disclaimer** i'm american so i have the dates (e.g. 11/24/23) month/day/year format. just to avoid any confusion!! <3

WC: 12k.

warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, multiple instances of smut (fingering, phone sex, f receiving oral use of a vibrator, unprotected don't do it p in v), barely proofread cause i was too excited to finally post it, and a bit of angst.

March 20th, First day of Spring.

The holidays were always your favorite time of year. Every single one for that matter. Every holiday has its own special place in your heart. New Years, Easter, Christmas, etc. You loved them all the same. But you looked forward to them even more so this year. Because this year you had Harry. 

Harry, who was sitting across from you right now, laughing as he animatedly tells one of his horrible but adorable jokes. You have the stupidest grin on your face, with your eyes set on how his lips form the words coming out of his mouth. You can’t seem to look away. It doesn’t help that he keeps sneaking glances at you, those suggestive eyes that only you know burning into your face. 

He plans to take you home tonight, you can tell. You two have been going at this for months, the no-strings-attached sex thing. You think it’s easy enough. There’s never been any real difficulties, just the fact that you’re trying to keep it discreet. 

The first kiss was at the New Years party. You were both tipsy, he confessed that he always had a little fixation on you and how you looked in “all those pretty outfits you like to wear” and you confessed that him and his “fancy british accent”, “pretty tattoos”, and “ridiculously charming personality” never failed to have you imagining kissing those incredibly soft looking lips. 

He looked at you for a second, his gaze moving from your lips to your eyes as if he was trying to gauge where your head was at. Then, at the perfect timing, the clock turned twelve and your lips were intertwined. The rest is history. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you bite your lip, fighting hard to hide the smile that threatens to overtake your face. You know exactly who it is. 

You pull your phone out and smirk when you read it. 

H 11:34PM

Need you tonight, baby.

It’s been too long since he’s touched you, you missed it so much and he couldn’t go another day without you. You look around a little, trying to make sure no one is looking at your phone (only making yourself look more suspicious in the process) and then begin typing back. 

You 11:36PM

And what do you suppose I do about that?

You look up at him when you know he’s seen the message. You smirk at him and he gives you a look that says ‘you know damn well’ but he texts back anyways. 

H 11:37PM

Come to mine tonight. Let me fuck you.

As soon as you read the text your stomach erupts with butterflies, you always have an instant reaction to his words. You press your thighs together and try your best not to squirm. 

He doesn’t need to know that though, so you answer with a simple, 

You 11:40 PM

Ok.

You push your phone right back into your pocket and try your best to continue with the conversation that’s getting passed around the table. But thoughts of him keep creeping in. Thoughts of his voice in your ear, the feeling of him inside of you, stretching you and filling you, his hands gripping you roughly or gently, depending on how you feel, all you can think about is him. 

“It’s getting late, you guys. I’m exhausted. Loved seeing you all.” you finally say, not being able to take much more of wanting something when it’s literally right in front of you and not being able to just take it. 

“Me too. Got an early morning. See you.” Harry says after you, looking at you not-so-discreetly as he gets his stuff. 

When you’re both outside he instantly pulls you away from the windows and kisses you. It’s hard and passionate and needy and it’s almost like he―

“Missed you.” he says in between kisses, his hands going to grip your waist tightly, like he’s yearning for the skin to skin contact. 

“Yeah?” you whisper, tugging on his bottom lip which earns you a pained groan. 

“Fuck. Mhm. Missed you so much. You smell good.” 

You giggle at his admission about your scent and decide to spur him on even more. 

“Show me. Take me home, H.” 

Waking up next to Harry is something you simultaneously love and wish you never got to experience. Because when this little arrangement is over, you know you’ll miss it too much. 

When he wakes up, he doesn’t treat you like his fuck buddy, he treats you like some sort of girlfriend. And you haven’t let it detrimentally affect you yet, but you know it will. And the day it does is when you’ll know you need to end this. End it before someone, scratch that, you get hurt. 

“Mornin’, angel. Want some breakfast?” he says, his voice gravelly but also smooth like toffee and it sounds weird but you want to taste it. 

“Mhm. Whad’ya making?” you mumble, eyeing his lips. 

“Whatever you want. Kiss?” 

You smile and lean up to kiss him, taken by surprise when he deepens it and pulls you over his lap. You giggle into the kiss and he smiles with a short chuckle. 

“Want anything before I go make it?” he says, obviously trying to start something. 

“Harry…” 

“Just asking, sweetheart. You know I always want you.” he says with a kiss to your collarbone, “only you” he says softly as if it wasn’t meant to be heard.

“Stop trying to sweet talk me. Go make breakfast.” You push yourself off him and he whines, but obliges, going to make that lovely french toast he knows you want.

You sit up to look through some emails when you hear it, his phone buzzing incessantly on his counter. 

You know it shouldn’t bother you, you’re just friends who happen to enjoy each other's sexual company. The idea of him having someone else that he whispers sweet nothing to in his ear just doesn't feel right to you. 

You pick up the phone, keeping it face down, (not wanting to see something you know you don’t want to) and walk to the kitchen where Harry is mixing some yummy smelling batter. 

“Think someone is trying to reach you.” you try to come off as cool and collected, and you almost convince yourself that you are, but you know you’re not. You curse your sensitivity and watch as he picks up the phone but puts it back down, face down, just as quickly. 

“Makin’ your favorite.” He rasps out, turning around to smirk at you. He frowns when your expression isn’t one of your usual excitement. 

“You okay, baby?” he inquires, setting the bowl of batter down on the counter and walking over to you. He takes your hands in his and playfully looks into your eyes with faux intensity, “tell me.” 

“I’m okay, yeah. Just tired.” It’s only now that you actually wonder how many times you’ve told that lie. 

“Worked you over good last night, hmm?” He smirks and you roll your eyes and smile despite yourself, “you sounded like you were having a good time.” he adds cheekily and before you can stop it a giggle breaks from your lips. 

“I was.” His ability to make you feel like everything is okay with just a cheeky smile and a couple of words breaks you and mends you at the same time. 

“Good girl.” he whispers against your lips, kissing you slowly and softly. 

“Back to the food!” he exclaims, breaking away from you to saunter back over to the counter-top. 

“Wanna be my sous chef?” 

April 1st, April fools.

You never understood the fixation with men’s hands until you started sleeping with Harry. 

“Fuck.” he drags out the vowel sound as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, stroking your g-spot in a way you can only describe as affectionately rough, “look at you princess, taking my fingers so fucking well.” 

“H..fuck I—” you’re cut off by your own loud moan, praying that no one can hear you two. Your friend group planned a little get together given the fact that it’s april fools and you guys have nothing better to do. You all decided to host it at Harry’s place and he lasted about ten minutes trying to be a good host before he dragged you into the bathroom with a phony excuse that you’re almost sure nobody believed. 

When you reach up to cover your mouth, he tuts softly and reaches up to tap three fingers against your hand, signaling he wants it off, “s’my fucking house we can be as loud as we want. You know how much I love your pretty sounds, why’re you trying to keep ‘em from me, huh? Being bad?” he says in that condescending tone that you simultaneously love and hate.

“N-no, please H. M’not being bad jus-just please.” 

“Love it when you beg. Soaking me like this and I’ve only given you two fuckin’ fingers–” 

“Gonna cum.” you interrupt him with your frantic moan, he’s always very adamant about you asking for permission. He needs to be in control like that. He needs to have that control over your body and your pleasure. He thrives on it. “Can I please, please cum?” 

“Fuck. You’re sqeezin’ me so fucking tight. Gonna make a mess all over my fingers, baby? Give it to me.” 

“Yes, yes yes” you feel that white hot pleasure building in what feels like every nerve in your body and your muscles start to jerk as you cope with all the pleasure overriding your system. You ramble out a couple praises mixed in with Harry’s name and your hand tangles in his hair which he groans at. You pray to every god that you can think of that nobody downstairs can hear the way he’s ruining you. 

“There you go, baby.” he doesn’t stop with his fingers, keeping a rhythm that only intensifies your release. When you choke on a moan that sounds more like a sob, he kisses your temple gently and soothes you with his voice, “I know, I know. Feels too good, doesn’t it?” 

You’re not sure if he expects a response, but even if he did you’re not in any state to give one. His fingers have turned your brain into a mushy mess.

“You’re okay darling. Always making me so proud.” He whispers as you come down, slowly pulsing his fingers inside you still to help you ride it out. 

“Jesus christ.” you sigh and he chuckles softly. 

“What was our excuse again?” he asks before leaning down to your lips to kiss you, his kiss full of the lust that’s swimming in his forest eyes. 

“Dunno, something about getting the movies that we were gonna watch,” you giggle softly against his lips and he smiles. 

You get some movies from his bedroom so that you don’t seem too suspicious and go back downstairs to your friends. The heat of embarrassment makes itself known every time someone asks you or Harry what took so long or what distracted you up there. 

“What could you guys possibly have been doing for eight whole minutes?” a friend of yours asks incredulously with a joking tone. 

“We couldn’t find the movie we wanted. Duh.” Harry shoots back with a quickness, smirking softly when he looks over to you. And he can read your body like a book. He knows you’re a little embarrassed at the idea of people finding out that you guys have been fooling around. 

You’re playing with the lobe of your ear as everyone takes in Harry’s response and laughs. Someone tells another joke that just amplifies the laughter but Harry’s only looking at you. Playing with the lobe of your ear is one of your many obvious tells with your anxiety. He makes  a mental note to check on you later. 

During the movie he plops himself right in between you and one of your friends, making both of you giggle. He swings his arm around your shoulder and leans down to whisper in your ear. The heat and tickle of his whisper sends a shiver down your spine and you know that the position you guys are in is less than discreet but you can’t really find it in yourself to care when he’s close like this. “You okay?” he asks in an earnest tone, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder for good measure. You nod softly and he smiles, softly tugging you closer. 

April 9th, Easter.

Easter was always a fun holiday, especially for your god children, you always loved to see the little kids run around in search of the little painted eggs. It reminded you of a time when you were in their position, blissful and young. You often refer to those as the ‘good old days’, but you can’t quite complain about how you ended up.

You’re talking to your sister’s baby boy when your phone rings, you pull it out to see a picture of Harry sleeping in bed and you smile, you remember when you took that picture. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, pretty. Where are you?” he sounds kind of breathless, like he’s been running a mile.

“At an Easter egg hunt. You?”

He chuckles darkly before speaking. “Dunno. Just missin’ you.” he says. You squint your eyes in suspicion.

“Missing me?” you say with the same suspicion laced in your voice. You’re starting to understand what he’s playing at. 

“Missing your sweet cunt. God, the way you taste. Need you on my tongue.” he spews out in what seems like one breath. 

“Jesus Christ, Harry. What has gotten into you?” you hiss, quickly getting up out of your seat and away from prying eyes and ears. 

“God, I can almost imagine it.” you hear his whisper and the neediness radiating off of his voice makes you press your thighs together. He’s touching himself. He’s fucking his hand to the thought of your taste and it’s driving you mad. “Want you to sit on my face next time, have your thighs shaking around my head, your pussy drenchin’ me―fuck!” he whimpers. 

“Harry…” you say, it’s supposed to be some type of warning but the arousal starting to pool in your underwear has your voice coming out shaky and unstable. 

“Love it when you say my name like that. Again. Say it again, please baby.” he begs, shamelessly. You can tell he’s close, the strain in his voice, the crackly over-the-phone sound of the wetness of his strokes.

“Harry I―”

“Fuck fuck fuck, I fuckin’ need you. Please, please.” he keeps whispering the word “please” under his breath, gasping out moans and whines, “gonna cum, gonna cum.” 

You decide there's no harm in spurring him on a bit, “come for me, Harry.” 

You hear a broken “fuck” before a series of his beautiful sounds fill your ears. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught of stimulation, butterflies swarming around in your tummy. 

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah fuck.” you whisper and you hear his laugh on the other end. 

“Sorry―Sorry I um― called you like that. I just, fuck, really needed you. Was so fuckin’ hard. Y’have no idea.” he breathes out. 

“I…um. I missed you too.” you don’t know why you cringed at yourself after saying it, but it’s almost like Harry can read your mind because he chuckles and speaks in a reassuring tone, “that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. When will I see you again missy?” 

“Dunno. I’ve been a little busy with work and…stuff. I’ll have my people call your people to see when I can fit you into my schedule.” you joke, biting your lip softly and toying with your necklace as you wait for his response. 

When you hear a soft laugh a smile is immediately brought to your face. That laugh could melt you. His voice is like velvet when he speaks, “I’ll have you soon. We both know you can’t stay away. You need me for my slutty waist and washboard abs as you usually say.” 

You try your best to hold in your laugh so as to not inflate his ego, but it slips out before you have permission and both of you are laughing before you feel a delicate tap on your leg. You’re met with your nephew when you turn around and look down to find the source of the touch. 

“Can we pway more bunnies?” your nephew says to you and you nod softly, “just give me one second honey.” He nods and walks back to the place you guys were sitting and you smile as you watch him. 

“I’ve gotta go but I’ll text you, alright?” 

“See you soon, petal.” 

May 31st, Memorial Day.

“That kiss the cook apron is really working for you, Harry I’ve got to say.” you giggle at your friend Jamal’s shout at Harry. 

It’s another one of your favorite holidays and you and your friends are all at the beach. The sun is beaming on your skin and warming you in the best way while the breeze balances it out, cooling you in the places needed. “Take it off! Take it off!” you join the chant, having trouble even speaking in between laughs. 

“You guys are fucking ridiculous” Harry chuckles. He smirks and reaches behind him to pretend to take the apron off, laughing when everybody’s cheers get louder. 

When the food is done and everyone is full, the girls lay on the sand while the guys are across from you guys making sandcastles like children. You look over at Harry and feel your stomach twist in a way that it’s been doing recently that you can’t stand. He just looks so good. You don’t know how else to explain it. Especially in this light, the warm sunset creating a golden glow against him. The soft amber tones kissed his skin and the sunshine he usually radiated with his personality seemed to radiate physically, as if he was being infused with the sun’s very essence.

You couldn’t stop yourself from sitting up to go and talk to him. He looked up at you in the position he was in on his knees and smiled, his eyes squinted from the direct sunlight.

“Hey. Fancy going for a walk?” the way he says it seems like he’s been waiting for the opportunity to do so. The sun shifts and his expression softens as he awaits your response. 

You nod and put your hand out for him to take it, and he rolls his eyes playfully but takes your hand anyway. You try not to think about what the rest of the group might think as you walk away with him, hand in hand. It’s not lost on you that you guys look like a couple, but Harry has always been touchy with his friends, some might say too touchy, so you pray that they’ll just attribute it to that. 

He swings your hands as you guys walk, and constantly rakes his fingers through his damp hair with his free hand. You kind of wish he wouldn’t because you love the way his curls fall over his face. 

“I feel like we’ve both been so busy. I haven’t gotten to see you as much as I want to.” You stop walking, you guys are a bit of a good distance away from everyone else and he’s starting to get more affectionate with you. His hands trail up to your arm to cradle your neck and he rubs your jaw affectionately. He leans down to ghost his lips against your neck and whispers, “I’ve missed you.” 

There’s something so poetic about the way his voice carries with the wind and the distant sound of the waves crashing around you guys. You melt into his hands when his lips finally make actual contact with your skin and you have to fight hard to suppress the whimper that threatens to leave your mouth. 

“Tell me you’ll come home with me tonight. Please.” He suckles on your neck gently, causing the moan you were suppressing to finally force its way out. 

“I will. Anything you want.” you pant out, tangling your hands into his hair. You sigh when he pulls away from you but you can’t complain when you get the view of the sun reflecting in his eyes. It feels like you’re frozen in time as you look at him. The sun has set a bit more and the atmosphere is colored a fiery orange that bleeds more into a red. His eyes mimic the water in the way they glisten and his pink lips almost make you weak just looking at them. Especially considering the way those lips were just all over you. 

Harry’s staring at you in awe, the way the deep colored rays dance against your skin made it seem like a thousand stars fell from the sky just to adorn you. You’ve always been beautiful, but in this very moment, you’re transcendent. To him it’s like you constantly exceed any expectation for beauty he could possibly have. Everything about you is like a masterpiece to him. He wonders why it took him so long to grasp just how weak the sight of you makes him. He gives you one soft kiss and then pulls back too quickly. He takes your hand and starts walking with you back to the rest of the group. 

Looking at him now, you wonder why it took you so long to grasp just how deep you are in this. Having thoughts of freezing time and staying in this moment so you can look at him forever are dangerous thoughts. Thoughts that almost make it seem like you’re in love. 

Dangerous. 

October 31st, Halloween.

“Jesus, babe.” Harry brings his finger up and moves it in a circular motion, “do a spin for me.” 

You giggle and spin around, making sure to do it slowly so he can really take in the way this dress hugs your figure in all the right ways. He whistles and you can’t stop the laugh from leaving your lips. 

Ever since your realization at the beach, things have been so simple between you two. You thought it would complicate things, but everything has been perfect. So incredibly perfect. It’s almost like he knew that you were starting to feel something more, the way he’s been treating you these past couple months is so different. Different in a good way. The amount of attention and care that he’s devoted to you makes your stomach with more butterflies than you can handle. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you tell him, walking up closer to him, having to look up at him. Your confidence wanes the slightest bit at his intense eye contact when he looks down at you with an amused smirk on his face. 

“Yeah? I look good enough for you?” he quips, dangerously close to your lips as he speaks, “I was worried you know? S’hard to measure up to you.” 

Ever the flirt, he is. 

“You’re overdoing it now.” you deadpan and back away from him, making him throw his head back in a cackle. It was Harry’s idea to go to the Halloween party in matching costumes. You were a little shocked at first but you’d never turn down an opportunity to match with the most fashionable man you know. 

“Our ride is gonna be here in about….” he looks down at an imaginary watch on his wrist, “fifteen minutes. Whadya say we sneak a quickie in?” he smirks at you and chuckles when you roll your eyes.

“It’s this fucking outfit,” he practically growls, his hands palm at your ass, “driving me insane, baby.” 

“And whose idea was it?” you tilt your head as you speak, making a point to move his hands from your ass to your waist. “I’m not gonna be late because of you again, Harry. Keep your hands at appropriate places at all times.” you scold him. 

“Yes it was my idea,” he sighs. “A very good but painful idea that I take full credit fo—” a car beeping outside interrupts his sentence and his brow furrows while you smirk at him. 

Right…fifteen minutes.

Getting in the car and seeing all your friends dressed in all their Halloween outfits already has you excited for the rest of the night. Harry was very adamant about your seating arrangement when the car got too cramped, eagerly offering up his lap as a seat replacement for you. You of course took it, and you’ve spent the whole ride fighting your body’s natural reaction to his little teasing touches. 

You want to kill him by the time you finally arrive at the party. He knew exactly what he was doing in that car, he knows the effect his touches have on you and you know he’s doing this as “payback” for how you’re torturing him in your outfit. 

It’s not hard to make your rounds and do all the socializing that you’ve equipped yourself for before Harry is immediately stealing you away from people.

“Wanna dance with you.” is all he says, dragging you to the dancefloor. You look around as you guys settle, the vibe around is nothing short of raunchy. Looking at all of the other couples around you, you can tell that they all want to take each other home and tear each other’s clothes off. After cooling off with a couple drinks and conversations, you weren’t exactly in that mindset anymore, but you have a feeling that Harry is about to take you right back there. 

His hands smooth down your waist, boldly cupping your ass and he slowly grinds against him to the rhythm of the song, you feel his gentle breath before you hear his voice. “You’re killing me, petal. Been picturing tearing this dress off of you all. Fucking. Night.” 

Your breath catches in your throat and you let his hands lead you as you push your head further into his neck, “M’not doing anything though. What’s got you this worked up?” You pout at him condescendingly. He knows feigning innocence when he’s needy like this is your favorite thing to do. It makes you feel a sort of power that you usually don’t get with him to hear him say that you make him into a mess. 

“You fucking know, baby. You know what you’re doing to me.” he’s whining out his words at this point, and you thank god that the music is as loud as it is so everyone else can’t hear how this man is falling apart in your hands. 

“Can’t think of anything else. The only thought in my mind is watching you come on my cock. God it’d be so easy to just fuck you right here. Know you’ve already made a mess of yourself. It’d be so easy to give you what I know you need right now.” 

You’re panting at this point, delirious with pleasure. It should be illegal the way he can talk you into almost anything with that voice. You don’t care about anything or anyone else around you, all you can think about is how desperately you need him to quell that ache that’s building inside you.

“Fuck. Take me home. Take me home right now, H.” 

As soon as he hears you he’s moving. He doesn’t even bother to let your friends know where you’re going. He just drags you outside and starts tapping on his phone to get you guys an uber.

The ride to his house is tortuous. He sits you in his lap almost immediately and his hands find a home on your hips, making a point to drag you slowly back and forth across his thigh. 

Every roll against his thigh drives you further and further into oblivion and you don’t think you can wait any longer to get what you so desperately need. You suppose you’ll let him have his fun though, his little taste of “payback” for how bad he’s been aching this whole night. 

The second the driver stops, it’s like Harry couldn’t get you off of his lap fast enough (something you never thought you’d say) and he’s dragging you up to the house. He wanted to kiss you as soon as you got out of the car but he knew you wouldn’t appreciate doing that in front of the driver. No matter how turned on you are. 

As soon as you guys step into the house, he closes the door behind him and his lips are already on you. Your mind is instantly turned into mush with the way he claims your lips. It’s like he can’t even wait long enough to get you upstairs. He’s immediately getting down on his knees and kissing and sucking his way up your thighs, “so fucking beautiful and soft. You feel like a fucking dream. Dreamy girl.” 

He trails his hands slowly upwards and takes a hold of your thin lace panties. Although he pulls them down gently, you can see the impatience in his eyes and feel it in his grip. He’s beginning to lose his resolve and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. 

Your skirt is pushed up and resting on your hips before you can blink. The way you’ve been pressing your thighs together since you got in the house has been deemed useless when he forcefully pushes them apart, his hands gripping the flesh so hard you fear it might leave marks.  

“Wanna feel you come on my tongue. Missed it so much. Will you let me?” he sucks marks that only the two of you will be able to see in your inner thighs. You can barely find it in you to answer his question. Everything about the way he’s touching you, to his voice, to the smell of his cologne and your arousal mixed together is heightening all of your senses and making your brain short circuit. 

You nod hoping that would be enough, but you should’ve known better. “Words. You know better, baby.” he tsks, continuing his kisses along your sensitive skin. 

“Yes, yes. Please.” Is all you can manage to get out. The second the first yes leaves your lips, his mouth is exactly where you need it the most. He’s not wasting any time tonight, getting straight to the point of making you lose yourself on his tongue. Usually he drags it out, edges you or teases you with his tongue, but he’s aching so bad. He needs to be inside you before he loses his mind. 

His tongue swirls messily against your clit and you’re so sensitive that you tense with almost every stroke. He’s moaning against you in a way that you would find obnoxious if it wasn’t him, but because it is him, it just adds to your pleasure. He’s behaving as if he’s a man starved. As if he’s been a dessert and you’re that stream of water that he’s been yearning for. 

You tangle your hand into his hair and let your head tip back against the door. You can’t be bothered to worry about the volume of the moans you’re letting out and how they travel through the empty house. You’re too consumed in how good he’s making you feel. That’s the good thing about having a sexual partner like this. You’ve had so much time together and he’s made the most diligent effort to learn your body. He knows every signal, every tick, every indication. And he uses it all to his advantage. 

You sob lowly when he slides his fingers into your heat, immediately curling them up to hit that spot that makes you shake. You pull your head off of the door to look down at him, only to find his eyes already on you. His intense green eyes bore into yours and it’s almost as if they’re communicating with your eyes. He urges you to let go for him with that unspoken language that you’re now fluent in. 

He fucks you deep with his fingers while his tongue continues it’s very skillful ministrations. Every time he moans into your cunt the vibrations just push you further and further into bliss and you’re almost embarrassed with how close you are so quickly. The sounds you’re making are bordering on pornagraphic when you start clenching down hard on his fingers you know you’re a goner. 

He pulls away to egg you on with his voice, “there you go, baby. Getting so fucking tight for me.” you moan at his words and nod. As much as you love the way his tongue was working magic on you, the one thing that will always get you to fall over the edge is his voice. 

He’s evil, you decide. He’s evil for the way he toys with your body like he owns it. And at this point, he does own it. 

His tongue is back on your clit to offer you that final push off of the edge, he flicks his tongue and sucks with a pressure that you can only describe as mind numbing. Every movement he makes just makes the release that’s brewing even stronger. 

A complete mess of syllables leaves your bitten lips as the white hot pleasure consumes you. It feels like a tidal wave swallows you up in its strength and you see no way of coming up for air. You choke out a series of moans that Harry only groans at while he continues to softly lick at your clit and thrust his fingers inside you, like he intends to keep you under. 

The hands that were in his hair tug hard as the soft licks start to become a little too much for you to handle. A slightly higher pitched sound leaves him and he relents reluctantly, “can never get enough of your cunt, petal. Never.” He leaves wet kisses all over your thighs in between more praises that you barely register with all the pleasure swimming in your mind. 

One thing you can register though, is how bad you need him inside you, “take me upstairs, Harry.” 

He stands up almost immediately at that, and he smirks before leaning down to pick you up bridal style. You giggle at his antics and he only chuckles, kissing your cheek as he leads you two up the stairs.

November 23, Thanksgiving.  

Thanksgiving is by far your favorite holiday. The way you get to spend time with your family, the (amazing) food, just the atmosphere of being happy and thankful with people you love, you look forward to it every year. You’re chilling next to your sister on the couch at your parents house, laughing at one of your dad’s jokes. 

You guys have already eaten and you're completely full and sated as you enjoy the company of your family. 

The amount of times you’ve checked your phone should be considered embarrassing, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop. You invited Harry over for dinner. And it’s really no big deal, he’s been your friend for a while, long before the whole arrangement started. And he’s met your family so many times that they wouldn’t even bat an eye. His family lives in London and he’s in the U.S. for work so he’s come over for Thanksgiving plenty of times. 

You feel a nudge on your shoulder and you look over at your sister who has a soft knowing smirk on her face. 

Uh oh. You know that expression. 

You give her a deadpanned look, “what?” 

Her smile grows at the way you can read her so well and you urge her with your eyes to tell you what’s on her mind. 

“So…what’s going with you and Harry?” her eyes are squinted in that specific way that tells you that she knows exactly what’s going on with you and Harry, she just wants to hear you say it. “It’s just…you guys have been posting each other a lot, tagging each other in posts and all that. And the last time I saw you guys, you seemed super domestic.” 

You don’t doubt that. Even though you and Harry still place yourselves under the “friends with benefits” label, you guys have gotten way closer emotionally. You’re always together now. You sleep over at his house almost every night, sometimes without even sleeping together. You guys have been glued at the hip ever since Halloween. And it’s great, honestly. It feels great. 

“It’s nothing, it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders and a sheepish look graces your face, “I think I sort of…like him”

  Your sister can barely register what you said before your head is snapping to the sound of the doorbell ringing. You look back at your sister and she smirks at you softly with a soft raise of her eyebrow. 

Your mom gets up to open it and immediately shrieks in surprise, “Harry! I had no idea you were coming!” you smile at the genuine joy in her voice and then at Harry’s voice when he speaks, “she didn’t tell you I was coming?” You can hear the smile in his voice and it immediately brings the one you were trying to hide back on your face. 

“And you brought a date!” your mom exclaims. 

Your smile drops. 

Your heart follows your smile and you immediately feel a pit deep in your stomach that twists and twists until you can’t take it anymore. 

A hot wave of embarrassment comes next when your sister tenses next to you. You had just told her that you actually might like someone, that you actually might like Harry. And here he is with a date. 

Your mom steps aside to let them in and your stomach twists even tighter. She’s beautiful. And you’re sure she’s kind and charismatic and perfect and everything Harry would want and deserve in a woman. 

You don’t even wanna see the look on your sister’s face, you don’t want to see the pity in her eyes when she realizes that you’re completely hopeless. 

You feel tears gathering in your waterline and you blink them away. You almost want to feel angry. He brought her here? At your parents house? You know that technically you two don’t owe each other anything but there’s a level of respect that you figure one is supposed to have when sleeping with someone. 

You suddenly feel scared to see his face. You wonder if he’ll look guilty, or completely indifferent. You honestly don’t know which one is worse. 

You’re even more nervous that he’ll see your face and realize how much this is hurting you. How much it’s hurting you to realize that, although you two are friends, he never felt for you what you felt for him. That you were just a warm body he used when he needed it, and you happily offered it to him. Over and over. 

A plethora of emotions hit you at once, and after you cycle through confusion, sadness, and anger, you just feel stupid.

Your mom says your name and you’re very harshly snapped out of your thoughts, “figured you’d surprise us for the holiday, huh?” your mom has the most gentle smile on your face and it almost makes you crumble more. You look over to your mom and you immediately feel his intense gaze on you. That same intense gaze that used to make you melt only makes all of your muscles seize in the worst way at this very moment. You refuse to meet his eyes cause you know that if you do, you’ll break. 

You force a smile and pray that it’s not too obvious how you’re not even acknowledging him, “guess so, mom.” 

You and your sister share a look and you communicate without words that she’ll cover for you if you have to leave. She nods at you with a knowing look and you return the look, mentally preparing yourself to lie to everyone here and say you have to go. 

You pick your stuff up and get up to walk towards the door. “Harry,”  you address him for the first time since he came, “thank you so much for coming. I didn’t think you’d actually make it.” 

He furrows his brows and leans towards you, extending his arm out to pull you into an awkward side hug, “of course I’d make it.” you feel yourself tense as you feel his touch and you hope he doesn’t notice. You nod against his shoulder and sigh. His cologne envelopes your senses and you bask in the comfort of his warm hug. You’re utterly torn between the two feelings it offers you, a feeling of discomfort conflicting with a feeling of home. 

“How are you? You look lovely.” he kisses your cheek and the all too familiar feeling of his stubble rubbing against your skin threatens to bring a new wave of tears to your eyes. 

“I’m fine–” you barely get the words out before he’s interrupting you. A huge smile graces his face and he looks down at the girl he’s got his arm around, squeezing her shoulder gently before he speaks and you already know what he’s going to say. 

“I want you to meet—” 

You can’t do it. 

“I’d love to talk but I’ve got a work emergency and I really need to go.” you watch his face drop. His eyebrows furrow tightly together and a frown graces his face. You can tell he’s confused, he knows that you would never leave Thanksgiving early for any work emergency and you would never leave as soon as he shows up. 

You go to walk but his hand leaves his date like he’s been burned by her skin and he reaches out for you, grabbing your arm tight. His eyes are swimming with an expression you can’t quite place and he squeezes your arm with a quick pulse, “where’re you going? I just got here.” his voice dips and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s hurt by you leaving. Right now you can’t even begin to worry about him being hurt with the pain radiating in your chest right now. 

“S’work, H. I’m really sorry,” you turn to address the girl next to him, “it’s really nice to meet you. I’m sorry we couldn’t talk more.” and with that you’re out of there before anyone can say anything else. As soon as the door shuts behind you, you take a deep, shaky breath and bring your hand up to your neck to soothe the ache that’s developing in your jaw from holding in your tears. 

You decide then and there that you need to get it together. Harry doesn’t owe you anything, you guys are strictly friends with benefits. You weren’t supposed to get attached and caught up in the strings. You’ll try your absolute best to be a mature adult about this and not take your pain out on him cause as much as this hurts you, he doesn’t deserve to be treated the way you treat people when you’re hurt. 

And with that decision, you come to another. You need some time apart from Harry. 

December 24, Christmas Eve. 

Christmas Eve. Another one of your favorites. The anticipation and festive energy in the air felt palpable and everywhere you looked there was joy. The land outside was covered in white and the air felt crisp and cold. You loved the kind of air where it gave you little goosebumps as soon as you stepped outside. 

You’re watching a cheesy romantic Christmas movie, simultaneously loving and hating it. Loving it because it’s adorable and makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, hating it because you definitely wish that the leads were you and Harry and it’s making you want to die. 

Just as the male lead tells the female lead how much he’s really been crushing on her the whole time they’ve been trying to save her mom’s restaurant, your phone begins to buzz. Unfortunately for you, it’s been buzzing all day. 

Harry. 

Over and over again. 

He’s been texting and calling and truthfully, he actually sounds really concerned.

Harry 11/28/23

Hey petal. Been trying to reach you for a bit. Is everything okay? We good? 

Harry 12/1/23

Miss you. Text me. 

Harry 12/3/23

Answer meeee please? 

Harry 12/7/23

Feel like you’re avoiding me. 

Harry 12/7/23

Did I do something? I’m sorry if I did. 

Harry 12/14/23

Just please let me know you’re alright. I’m getting worried. 

Harry 12/17/23 Starting to think that you’re dead. 

Harry 12/22/23

I’m gonna stop bothering you now. But I miss you. Please text me back. 

Harry 12/24/23

Okay I lied about the bothering thing. I need to see you and I’m really worried and if you’re dead I’m gonna ask the police to do a wellness check. So answer me. 

The sheer desperation in his texts almost broke you, but for all you know he just misses the sex, and the thought of that breaks you even more. 

You grab the pillow on your couch and thrust it up to your face to scream into it. The second you get done screaming you hear your doorbell and you jump. You wonder who in their right mind would be out in this weather but you pause your movie and  go to open it nonetheless. 

What you didn’t expect was a Harry Styles covered in snow at your door. 

“Hey...can I come in? S’snowing like really hard.” It breaks your heart a little the way he added that last bit in, like you would refuse him otherwise.

“Of course. Do you want any tea?” you ask, trying to avoid the elephant in the room in case that’s not why he came here. 

“No I’m― I came here to um…talk.”

Fuck. 

“Okay.” You giggle, trying to lighten the mood but his sullen expression stays put. 

“I’m still gonna start the kettle in case you want any―” 

“Why’re you pulling away from me?” he blurts out.

“Wha―”

“I literally haven’t spoken to you in weeks. Have I done something wrong? I―I” he pauses to compose himself and your frown deepens, “I miss you. Miss you so much and I just wanted to make sure we were okay.” 

You push yourself away from the couch and walk up to him, making sure to keep eye contact knowing how important it is to him,”of course we are, H.” 

“You haven’t spoken to me in like a mo―” 

“Shh, shh. Was just swamped with work. You know how I get all in my head.” You know you shouldn’t be lying to him, you really shouldn’t. But the way he’s talking like the idea of you purposely ignoring him breaks him, you don’t have it in you to let him suffer any longer.

He nods and you smile at him, bringing your hands up to tangle in his hair, “we’re okay. I promise.” 

“Promise?” he whispers and your heart flutters. 

“Yeah.” You hate lying to his face. 

You start your steps to go to the kitchen but his grip on your wrist pulls you back, nearly crashing into his chest. 

“Want a kiss, please.” his voice never leaves that soft whisper. You lean in to give him a soft kiss, suddenly feeling a pit in your stomach that only deepens the closer you get to him. You’ve always had a bad habit of putting someone’s comfort over yours. 

“Do you want tea?” you whisper against his lips. 

“Always want some fuckin’ tea.” he says with a smirk and a quiet chuckle, that joyful inflection back in his voice and that familiar sparkle back in his eyes. 

When you step out of the kitchen with the tea he’s sitting on the couch in a relaxed manner, picking at the loose strings in your pillows and watching the movie you have on. His lips stretch in a gentle smile when he sees you and you force yourself to return it. 

You sit down next to him and he places his hand softly on your thigh, leaning over to you to place a soft kiss on your jaw. He trails more and more down to your neck and you feel your stomach twist. Your hand shoots to his chest to halt any further movement and you rush out words in a short breath, “We can’t.” There’s a beat of silence. He backs away quickly to not make you uncomfortable and you sigh and whisper, “...I can’t” 

Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze and you can tell that without an explanation your rejection stings him a little. 

“Don’t you have like…a thing? With that girl you brought to Thanksgiving?” you watch his face twist tightly in confusion and you can’t bear to hear him make excuses or lie to you so you just continue to ramble, “does she even know that you’re sleeping with other people? With me? Like if I was your girlfriend I’d be pretty fucking pissed that you’re over here and touching me after bringing her to Thanksgiving of all places—” 

“Shut up.” He cuts off your ramble sharply. You suck in a breath at his tone (and after speaking all those words without a break) and your chest tightens at his stern expression. 

“W-what?” you fumble through the word. Never in your life have you seen him this angry. He’s looking at you with a gaze that can only be described as absolutely vexed. 

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” If there’s one thing Harry is, it’s smart. He’s absolutely not an idiot. But you absolutely are for not realizing just how well he knows you, “you’ve barely spoken to me for a month. Didn’t answer my calls, texts, not going out when you know I’d be there because you thought I’d betray your trust like that and just pop up one day with a fucking girlfriend!?” You can tell that he’s trying to control his volume and anger. The way his fist and jaw is clenched is an obvious indication. 

“Well what was I supposed to think, Harry? You brought her and she was beautiful and you had your hand on her wai–” 

“And you weren’t gonna let me explain myself!? I’d never do that to you. It was—We–we had a deal!” he exclaims incredulously, ducking down to meet your eyes when you try and look away. 

“I know we had a deal, H. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions—” He interrupts you again and you sigh deeply. 

“And I can’t believe that you would think…I thought it was different…I thought you…” he trails off, his voice getting softer as his speaking slows.

“You thought I what?” you ask urgently. He looks down at his hands and picks at the nail on his thumb. You frown softly, “you thought I what, H?”

His expression almost looks tortured as he trains his gaze on his fingers. You suddenly feel terrible. You ignored him for so long all over a simple misunderstanding. You think back to the moment that it all happened and figure you might have avoided all of this if you just let him properly introduce her like he was trying to. Your lip trembles softly at the idea of hurting him and he sighs. 

“I thought you felt the same way as I did. I thought it wasn’t just a deal to you.” he admisses so very quietly. So quiet that if the TV was any louder you wouldn’t have heard it. His brows are tightly knit together and his lips are turned down into a deep pout. 

Harry almost regretted it when he said it. He knows that if you truly don’t feel the same, it’ll never go back to the way it was, and he’ll lose the person he cares about the most. He’ll lose the person he loves the most. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest and he avoids looking up at your expression in fear that your expression will be less than kind. 

He speaks before you can even process what he just said, “Ellie’s my cousin.” he breathes out a humorless laugh, “the girl I brought to Thanksgiving. I thought you’d love her.” the soft tone and volume of his voice remains constant.

You feel like your brain just short circuited. Harry just told you that he actually has feelings for you. That all this time he’s been thinking about you in the same way that you’ve been thinking about him. All this time. 

And you’re sitting here like an idiot letting him stew in confusion and not saying a word. 

“Oh my god.” you gasp like you’ve suddenly been slapped back into reality. Your hands rush over to him like they have a mind of their own with thoughts that tell them that they need to be close to him. You grasp his face in your hands and pull his head up so you can look into his eyes. 

“H.” you sigh. He watches your mouth form around the word and he decides right then and there that no matter what you’re going to say next, no matter if you reject him and tell him you could never see him that way, you will always make him weak. Looking into your eyes will always break and mend him at the same time, the sound of you saying his name will always make him crumble.

“Of course I feel the same way. Are you kidding? I thought that you didn’t.” you finally, finally admit. It immediately feels like a giant weight has been lifted off of your chest and you almost wanna cry at how freeing it feels. 

“Are you serious?” he laughs, although you can see that his eyes are a bit glossy. You pout softly, nodding and leaning down to envelop his lips in yours. 

“I’ve always needed you, petal. Even before the sex. I need you to know that.” he speaks with conviction. He needs you to know that it’s not just the sex muddling his brain and making him attached. He really truly loves you. Everything about you. 

“I know, I know H.” you nod again. 

“You’ve got no fuckin’ idea how much I missed you, petal. No clue.” His voice is thick with emotion, but also filled with that familiar lust that you missed so much. 

You scoot closer to him on the couch and throw your legs around his lap to straddle him, “feel like showing me?” 

He chuckles darkly, his hands quickly landing on your waist. His mouth closes to form into a smirk when you blatantly offer your body up for him like this. A soft noise leaves you in reaction to the tight grip he has on your waist. 

Your hips take on a mind of their own when they start to shift against him. A soft hiss followed by a groan leaves his lips. It’s like your lips are magnets the way you can’t keep them away from each other. He leans up to kiss you and the movement of your hips intensifies. 

You can see it in his eyes that he’s thinking of some sort of punishment to sort out your behavior of the past month. The intensity in his expression makes you feel a sort of anxiousness that throws you for a loop. You feel a little scared, but all the excitement and anticipation just overrides that tiny bit of fear. 

He leans closer to you to leave open mouthed kisses all over the exposed skin of your chest, he kisses until he reaches the fabric of your shirt and his hand falls to your ass, gripping it tightly while urging you to continue the movement of your hips against him. 

“Gonna have to teach you a lesson it seems.” His voice is husky and deep when he speaks, you know that he has the capacity to absolutely ruin you tonight, and you know that he will. 

He taps your hip with his fingers, his usual signal that he needs you to stand up. Your brows furrow in confusion briefly, but the confusion is gone as soon as it came when he speaks. 

“Do me a favor, honey?” 

You nod eagerly. 

“Get out that vibrator you’ve got in your dresser, clothes off and wait for me in your room.” His voice held a velvety, sensual tone, and combined with what he said, you’re nearly weak in the knees. When you stand there for a moment, having a bit of trouble getting your body to move as fast as your brain, he urges you with a raise of his eyebrow and you immediately spring into action. 

You hear his quiet murmur of “good girl” as you start to walk to your room. Every nerve in your body is buzzing with anticipation. Harry is already amazing in the bedroom with just him, imagining the pleasure you’ll feel with him and the toy is making you squeeze your thighs together and your eyes shut as you dwell in your thoughts. 

You sat down on your bed (very submissively, you hope it’ll get you some brownie points) with your vibrator laying next to you. Just when you’re starting to get impatient, the door opens with Harry on the other side of it. There’s a very distinct hunger in his eyes as he looks at you, as his gaze travels the length of your body. You can tell he appreciates the way you’re sitting. 

He doesn’t waste any time walking towards you and kneeling until his knees touch the floor and he’s level with where you need him the most. His hands find purchase on your thighs, immediately squeezing and prodding at them like he’s playing with his favorite toy (which he technically is), “you’re so good for me, petal. Doing as I asked.” 

His eyes flick up to yours after he speaks, and the eye contact, especially when he’s got that look going, makes you melt. You’re hyper aware of the tortuous way his hands are trailing upwards. He knows the way his touch works you up no matter where it is, and he’s using it to his advantage. 

A sharp gasp rips from your throat when he spreads your thighs apart. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve gotten from just the anticipation and thought of what he’s going to do to you. The groan that he let out once he saw what a mess you’ve made is an indication that he was pleased. 

“Jesus, petal. Look what you’ve done…” he stares at your center with an expression of deep desire as he reaches out a hand to trail two fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal on his fingertips, “messing up your sheets, baby. This all for me?” 

You can’t help but obediently nod, meeting his eyes with a pleading look, “only for you, promise. Please?” 

His face is painted with an expression of faux confusion, that condescending look that makes you clench around nothing and tip your head up to the ceiling in frustration. You know from that look this is going to be harder than you thought. He’s in the mood to tease. He’s going to break you.

“Please? Please what, baby. What do you need from me?” You’re impressed by the way he’s looking at you like he’s actually concerned and wondering what you want, and although you know it’s an act and he’s not asking because he truly plans on giving it to you, you still give in.

“Touch me, Harry. Need it.” You should be embarrassed at the whiny inflection in your voice as you beg him, but you can’t find it in yourself to feel shame when you’re aching as bad as you are. 

“You need it?” He teases and you know even he’s getting tired of this waiting game because his expression has melted down into a lazy grin, enjoying the way he’s torturing you. 

You can tell that he isn’t exactly mad any more, which you’re grateful for. He’s just enjoying toying with the body that he knows so well. 

You scoff and roll your eyes, pushing your hips towards him needily. It earns you a dark chuckle and a sigh, “alright, alright.” 

Without leaving his position on his knees, he reaches for the vibrator. Before you can beg any more, he’s switching it on and bringing it down to where you need it the most. He doesn’t even offer up a warning before he’s placing it directly on your clit, ripping a shocked moan from your throat. 

“Yeah?” His voice is taunting and low, and if the vibrator was any louder you wouldn’t be able to hear him, but it still hits you right in the gut like his voice usually does when he talks to you like this, “is that good? Right here?” 

“Fuck, yes. Stay right there.” you stutter through your words in a way that you know he’ll tease you for later, but you don’t have the brain capacity to care right now. All you can think about and feel is him, that vibrator on your clit, the way he’s talking. 

When he presses it harder against you, you breathe in deeply, exhaling in a whiney moan. He’s making you unravel at a quick and embarrassing pace and the sensations are overwhelming you. Your hips start to shift in tandem with the way he’s slowly rubbing the head of the vibrator back and forth against your clit, the sounds that leave your throat travel straight to his cock that’s still confined in his pants. He growls lowly when he notices your thighs start to shake and leans closer to suck kisses into them, “close already? Fuck look at that, honey…” he’s referring to the way your arousal is coating the toy. He almost feels tempted to bring it to his lips and clean it off, “this dreamy cunt needed it so bad, hm?”

You couldn’t respond even if you tried, your brain a mess of syllables and sounds that you’re meant to put together. All you can manage is a string of whimpers as you get closer and closer to your peak.

Harry watches your every move, so in tune with every twitch of your body and every sound you make. He moans along with you as you come undone, making sure to keep the toy right where it’s been to help you ride it out, anything to keep making his girl feel good. 

You reach for his hand to ground you and he quickly gives you what you need, interlocking your fingers and groaning when you squeeze tightly, “there you go…fuck.” 

You push yourself away from the toy when it becomes too much as best as you can, desperate to escape the onslaught of overstimulation and he chuckles, pulling the toy off of you. You can barely grip your bearings as he brings the toy to his lips to clean off with his tongue, he moans needily when he tastes you and squeezes your hand as if to say he’s proud of you. 

He puts the toy down next to you and starts to kiss his way up your body. Mumbling little words of encouragement and praise on his journey to your lips. 

“Did such a good job.” 

“M’so proud of you.” 

“You come so pretty.” 

“So beautiful.”  

When you guys are face to face he pinches your lips with his fingers before he leans down to kiss you, moaning into the kiss since he was deprived of them in the short time that he was making you come. 

“Hi.” You breathe out in a chuckle, your mind still muddled from the post climactic haze. He returns your greeting, his voice soft and tender with an adoration filled expression on his face. 

“Aren’t you like–” you motion your head downwards to refer to the way he’s straining in his pants and a chuckle leaves his lips. He nods gently, still staring at you with that fond look in his eye. 

“Mhm.” he mumbles. He repositions himself so he can take off his clothes and after he teases you for nearly drooling over his abs, comes back down to rest against you so that your chests are touching, “you wanna keep going?”

You know he’s asking to be respectful, but you can also tell that if you say no he’d probably cry. You can feel how hard he is against your thigh and see the strain in his expression. He subtly shifts his hips every so often against your skin and you have to fight back a smirk at how needy he is. 

You nod before you remember his thing about verbal consent and you mumble out a soft yes. As soon as he has your permission, he’s connecting your lips and lining up his tip with your entrance. He drags his tip back and forth against you, your body twitching in sensitivity every time he passes over your clit. 

A guttural groan leaves him as he finally fills you, a groan that melts into a whine as you clench down around him tightly, forcing yourself to adjust to the burning stretch that you’ve missed so much. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” The sound of his voice and the sounds he’s making just make you clench down tighter around him, “how do you always feel this fucking good? Squeezing me like a vice, pretty.”  

He sets a rhythm that has him hitting that spot inside you that makes you melt every time, somehow even though he’s been aching in his pants for so long his focus still remains solely on bringing you pleasure, making you feel good, “s’that okay, sweet girl. S’it good for you? Am I giving this needy cunt what it needs?” 

You know he doesn’t expect you to respond but he speaks anyway. He’s well aware of the effect his voice has on you.His deliberate thrusts gain more momentum with every reaction you give him. He truly feeds on your pleasure. It’s as if he suddenly remembers the emotional turmoil you forced the both of you to go through the past month, because his thrusts begin to get more purposeful. Rougher, more pointed motions of his hips rip noises from you that you’re sure is gonna give you a sore throat later. 

His hand wraps around your throat in a firm grip, leaning down to grit words out into your ear, “you’re mine, understand that? You’re mine. And I’m yours. No one else’s. I belong to you, petal. Just you.” 

He fights the strong pull in his chest that tells him to tell you how he really feels, how in love he is with you. How you consume his every thought and how your touch is unlike any other touch he’s ever felt. From the first time he was already addicted. You’re unlike anyone else that he’s ever met, you feel like home. 

The force of his thrusts knock all of the air out of your lungs, and all you can do is nod and mumble out an agreement. You need to be his. There might not be anything that you want more right now. Hearing him confess his feelings for you right now as he’s fucking you into oblivion do all the right things for you, and like clockwork, he immediately recognizes what you need and switches back on the vibrator, bringing it right back down to your clit. 

“Fuck that’s it, baby. Am I fucking you right, petal? Yeah? Fucking show me then. Come for me.” He presses the toy harder against you and rolls his hips in just the perfect way that makes him rub against that perfect spot inside you and you realize now that he made good on his word of teaching you a lesson. You are sufficiently taught.

He whines loudly at the feeling of you coming around him, mumbling out praises and thank you’s as you milk him for everything he’s worth, “shit, m’gonna fucking come. Fuck keep cumming, baby. Keep fucking squeezing me like that–” his words are cut off with a series of noises that you know is going replay in your head on loop. 

He rides out his pleasure with slow, lazy thrusts, hiding his face in your neck as he tries to cope with all the pleasure that’s wracking through his body. You tangle your hands in his hair to offer him some comfort, both of you breathing heavily. He continues to mumble praises into your damp skin, filling you with a warm fuzzy feeling that transcends anything you’ve ever felt before. 

When he catches his breath he turns his head to rest it on your shoulder and speaks, “you know I meant it right?” 

“Meant what?” 

“I’m yours. And you’re mine.” 

December 31st, New Years Eve. 

Your friend’s makeshift bar is bustling and you chuckle as the poor untrained bartender is trying to grapple with it all. You’re sipping slowly at a glass of champagne when you feel a strong arm link around your waist. 

“Mm hi baby.” his deep voice reverberates through your entire body as he speaks directly into your ear. You melt into his grasp and your lips break into a smile that you couldn’t stop even if you tried. 

“Harry.” you say cheekily as your hands fall to hold onto his arm. He had just come back from an absolute killer karaoke performance next to your friend’s TV. The whole entire house was cheering for him as he belted out an incredible rendition of “Hopelessly Devoted to You”. Ever the performer, your boyfriend is, “you were amazing. As always.” you giggle and he presses a messy, wet kiss to your cheeks. 

He is absolutely glowing tonight. Surrounded by his family, friends, and you. He’s beyond ready to spend the next year being annoyingly in love with you and attached to your hip. In fact, that’s the thing he’s looking forward to the most about the new year, going through every milestone, change, and holiday with the love of his life. 

“Always strokin’ m’ego, petal. Looove you.” you laugh loudly at how inebriated he is and lean your head back against his shoulder to get closer to him. 

“I love you too, H. I think you’re cut off though.” you chuckle and you can hear the pout in his voice when he speaks. 

“Wha’? Wha’s wrong with you? M’not even that drunk m’love.” The irony of his words slurring while he’s trying to convince you that he isn’t drunk isn’t lost on you. You turn around to face him and it’s like his expression melts into a smile when he looks at you. 

You don’t know how you never noticed it before, the way he looks at you. He stares at you with so much awe, so much reverence. Ever since you’ve noticed it the first time, it’s the first thing that catches your attention when you guys are together. That damn look. 

���Y’so pretty.” He brings his hand up to stroke your face with his thumb. 

You turn your face to kiss his palm and he giggles childishly, mumbling something about it tickling.

It’s not long before the countdown starts. Harry and you look at each other in anticipation, wanting to commemorate the first time you guys expressed the affection for each other that’s only increased ten fold. 

9

8

“I think New Years is m’favorite holiday.” he mumbles out, looking down at you with that familiar fond look. 

6

“Yeah?” you giggle at his admission, “why’s that, H?” 

4

“S’cause it’s the day that I finally got you.” You can barely register the cheers of happy new year before his lips are on yours, claiming them and making you his. You pull away reluctantly to breathe and smile at him when you speak.

“I think it’s my new favorite too, baby.”

[jjkfemimagine]

moments early in the relationship that made you fall in love with them

“I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends…”

moments early in the relationship that made you fall in love with them | fem! jjk x reader

Gojo: When Gojo asked you to go on a trip with her, you were excited but slightly nervous. She didn’t tell you exactly where the two of you were going, just that it was out of the country and to pack at least two nice pieces of clothing. 

You had been stressed, looking through every item you owned, trying to decide what was considered nice, and your room had become a mess as you threw clothes everywhere, frustrated that nothing seemed good enough. You were practically in tears. The two of you left in two days, and it wasn’t enough time to buy something and then have it tailored if it needed to be. 

You hear a knock at your door, and thinking it was your neighbor bringing back a pan that they used, headed to greet them. 

What greeted you instead was your girlfriend, standing tall and excitedly in front of you. She was somehow balancing a bag and two to-go cups of boba. “Baby!” she exclaimed happily. “Can I come in? I brought your favorite!” 

You stare up at her beautiful face, sunglasses covering her magnificent eyes, and are struck once again by how perfect she was. Her pearly white teeth, her grin, her long white hair, her body — and how she always seemed to pop up with something for you at the exact timing you need it without even knowing. 

She makes herself at home, placing down the bag and two drinks on your coffee table, and you head in her direction after closing the door and locking it in place. As soon as you get close enough, she reaches out, making grabby hands and pulling you into a huge hug where she rocks the two of you back and forth. The scent of her perfume made all your anxiety fly out the window. In this moment there was only you, and the most kindhearted woman you had ever met. 

She pulls back and gives you a quick kiss, before taking in your expression. Gojo was very hard to fool, especially when it came to how you were truly feeling. “What’s wrong, baby?” 

“Nothing,” you say, holding onto her still. She runs one of her hands soothingly up and down your back. 

“It doesn’t seem like nothing, love.” 

You fall silent, and Gojo doesn’t press again, though you can tell she’s waiting for you to continue. The two of you had only been dating for three months, but she never failed to decode how you were truly feeling. She gave you time to process things, but had always circled back to asking about what bothered you.

“It’s just…this trip.” 

Her eyebrows furrow, but she doesn’t interrupt you. 

“You said to pack at least two pieces of nice clothing, and I’ve been stressed with packing. I have no idea what the plans are, and nothing seems right, if you know what I mean. Also, please don’t go into my room; clothes are everywhere and it looks as though my bed has been hit by a tornado.” 

There’s silence for a minute before Gojo begins to laugh at you. You look at her as she does, wondering what’s going on inside her head, when she clasps her hands together, and says, “Let’s play dress up then!”

You continue to stare at her, dumbfounded as you say, “Huh?” 

“Yeah, like Project Runway! I’ll sit here on this couch, and you can change into the different ideas you have, and I can rate them like a judge! It’ll be really fun, and I think it'll make you feel better.” 

Your face breaks out into a soft smile at her idea. “Not a bad idea,” you tell her, and drag her into a quick kiss by tugging her towards you. 

“I never have bad ideas, baby! But first, let’s eat!” 

Geto: I’m so sorry, I think I’ll have to reschedule for tonight, is what greets your eyes when you look down at your phone near the end of your workday. 

You were finishing up the paperwork required after a mission, and had been excited to see your girlfriend after a long day. 

It wasn’t like Geto to cancel a hangout, so you’re immediately worried. You quickly type back, Is everything okay? 

Nanako and Mimiko are sick. They’re both sniffling and running slight fevers and have the chills. I want to stay with them and make sure they’re okay. I’m so sorry, baby. 

No reason to be sorry, you respond. Can I bring you anything? 

It takes Geto a minute to respond, and you’re strangely anxious. You two had only been going out for two months, despite knowing each other for much longer. You didn’t want to be pushy, or overstep, especially since the girls are Geto’s pride and joy. 

Actually, if you can get some cold medicine at the store and drop it off, that would be great. Are you sure? 

You snort before responding, Of course I’m sure. I’ll be there with medicine in less than an hour!

As soon as you get off work, you head to the store and pick up some medicine for the girls (the kind that doesn’t taste bad costs more, but you would literally kill someone for them, so it was very miniscule to you) and then head to Geto’s. 

When you arrive at her home, you knock on the door and it opens to reveal your girlfriend, her hair tied up opposed to her typical half-up half-down style. She wore sweatpants rather than her robes, and a bit of the stress on her face alleviates when she sees you. She steps back and allows you in before wrapping you in a huge hug. 

The two of you rock side to side, and immediately, when her familiar scent comes to you, you relax into her even more. “Thank you for getting medicine,” she says, pulling back and giving you a quick fix. “How much do I owe you?”

You arch an eyebrow, “‘How much do I owe you?’ You owe me nothing, Suguru. I would do anything for you and the girls.” 

A soft smile that she only allows you to see settles on her face, and your heart feels so warm. “Thank you, baby,” she says before giving you another kiss. “Let me take some to the girls.” 

You help your girlfriend carry glasses of water and two small measuring cups of medicine to the girls. They were staying in the same room, as they grew quite adorably clingy to one another when the other was ill. 

What you didn’t expect, however, was the way your very soul exploded as Geto squats next to Mimiko, brushing her hand gently across the girl’s forehead to wake her up. When Mimiko stirs, letting out a groan, Ghetto gently shushes her and tells her to take some medicine. She repeats the very same action with Nanako, and the thought hits you like a hundred bricks: I am falling so, so deeply in love with Geto Suguru. 

Nanami: You had gone for a night out with Shoko and Utahime to a bar, pounding back drink after drink. It had been extremely fun, and you were drunk by the time the night was called for. Utahime and Shoko were staying the night in Shoko’s place, and they offered for you to stay with them, but you shook your head stubbornly, the world spinning. 

“I wan’ my g-girlfriend,” you slur out. Hiccuping, you add, “I need…to call…Kento. She’s so, so p-pretty.” 

Shoko burst out with laughter, Utahime joining her as they shared a look. 

“Alright, alright, let’s call your girlfriend to come pick you up. We’ll stay here with you until she comes.” 

You hadn’t even talked to Nanami about picking you up or being a designated driver, but you squinted down at your phone as you tried to scroll through your contacts. All the names blurred together, and you’re swaying side to side from how fucked up you were. The realization hits you, though it doesn’t necessarily sober you. “W-wait! I, I didn’t ask her to pick me up. She…asleep…” 

“Wow, you’re really drunk,” observes Utahime, steadying you with her arm around your shoulders. “And you don’t need to worry about that. Nanami would drop anything for you.” 

“Don’t want to interrupt her sleep,” you slur. Shoko was smoking, and she snorted at your words. 

“Trust me, you’re her first priority. I’ll call her right now for you. No doubt she stayed up to pick you up and make sure you got home safely.” 

“Noooo, don’t bother herrrrr.” 

“Too late,” Shoko says, phone pressed against her ear. “Nanami? Yeah. Can you come pick her up? We’re at that one small bar in Shinjuku.” She pauses, then snickers. “I knew you’d be up and waiting. You’ll be here in 5 minutes? Alright. We’re standing outside.” 

You let out a whine, “Is’ only,” you stare at the screen on your phone with all your concentration to make out the blurry numbers. “Is’ only 1:24 A.M. We can still dance! Dance with me, Utahimeee!” You grab your friend and begin jumping up and down. You were still convinced you could keep going, and your friends silently sent out a prayer for the blonde sorcerer who was going to be taking care of you. 

You were making Utahime rock back and forth with you until a car pulled up next to your group. You turn to look and see the foggy form of your girlfriend. By now, you had completely forgotten that you were worried about Nanami staying up this late, too focused on the warmth in your body and the electric shock that went through your system at seeing your lover. 

“Nanami!” you cried out, stumbling in your heels in her direction. “My baby! You’re here!” 

Nanami had walked quickly to where you were swaying on your feet and wrapped her arm protectively around your waist, supporting your weight easily. You lean against her, laughing. 

“Nanami, have I ever told you,” you hiccup again, “how beautiful you are. Ahh, I have the best girlfriend ever, so tall, so strong, so beautiful, s-so p-perfect, and kind, and soooo pretty.”

Nanami shakes her head at you, and though she seems exasperated anyone sober could see her lovesick gaze. “I think you’ve mentioned it before, sweetheart. Now, come, we should get you home to lay down, hm? I’ll help you get ready for bed.” 

“Fine,” you pout, before turning around and attempting to run away when Nanami lets her guard down. “Nooo! I wanna dance!” 

Nanami had chased after you, and easily caught up. 

And then she does something that sobers you up: She grabs you easily and picks you up. You immediately grab onto her out of instinct, and she begins walking back to the car. Onlookers are giggling at the scene, but Nanami effortlessly opens the passenger door and gently places you inside. 

(Shoko had definitely been recording the whole thing secretly.) 

Nanami gets into the driver seat, and begins the ride home. It’s quiet until you begin to whine. “My feet huuuurrttt.” 

“I can massage them when we get back, how about that?” Nanami says, leaning over, and places her warm, calloused hand on your thigh. “If you’re a good girl for me, and listen to me, I’ll get you a treat tomorrow while you’re hungover, hm?”

Oh. 

Shoko: Many would assume you would realize you loved Shoko while she was treating your injury. And while this was a good guess, it was not reality. 

You realized you loved Shoko after you had sex for the first time. 

You had never been with anyone before, man or woman, but Shoko had surprisingly had many sexual partners to the point she knew what to do. 

So after she had fingered your pussy so well you had cum around her fingers, gotten eaten out for the first time ever, and gotten fucked with her strap, you knew it was love. You wouldn’t have allowed anyone to go that far if you didn’t love them. 

The thought, I think I’m truly head over heels, came when she cleaned you both up and had started a warm bath for the both of you. She sat behind you, and you were in a blissful haze as she used her nails to scrape into your scalp lovingly as her chest was pressed against your back, her long legs bracketing yours. 

Her touches were so gentle. She had been gentle earlier too as it had been your first time and she didn’t want to make you more nervous. And now, here you were, taking a bath with the most beautiful doctor in the world, as she softly says, “You were so good, honey, so perfect for me. Thank you for allowing me to touch you like that. I adore you, pretty. My good girl.” 

Safe to your heart melted. 

Yuki: The thought came, much like many things with Yuki, as a sudden one. 

You had planned to go out on a nighttime ride on her motorcycle, and as she fixes your helmet for you, she leans forward and kisses the visor right in front of your lips, and you can’t help the grin that comes to your face. 

She coos, “You’re so cute in this helmet. I promise you’ll be safe with me, honey. If you get scared at all, and it’s too much, just tap on my waist three times. Are you ready?” 

Despite your anxiety, you were excited for this experience with your girlfriend, especially knowing how much she loves her motorcycle. You wanted desperately to share this with her, so you say confidently, “I’ll be fine, Yuki. I promise. Let’s go!” 

“That’s what I like to hear!” she says excitedly, sliding onto the motorcycle. You slip on behind her, and wrap your arms around her waist as she takes off. 

It was beautiful, truly, watching the city lights fly away. It was as if the two of you were flying, the beautiful countryside lit by street lamps going past you. You let out a laugh as the night air thrilled you, and you didn’t have to look at Yuki’s face to know she was smiling. 

She made a turn down a dirt path, and you were a bit concerned as she kept going until she entered what is the most magnificent flower field in the world. The moonlight reflected off all the bright colors, the rows of tulips and sunflowers and chrysanthemums all lined up in perfect rows. She parks her bike at the end of a row in the middle of the field, shutting it off and taking off her helmet before turning to you. She helps you take your helmet off, and then gently guides you off the motorcycle. 

You looked around in awe, taking in all the beautiful flowers. It truly looked like something out of a dream — a beautiful field, on a beautiful night, with a beautiful woman. You never would have guessed you would be so lucky to experience something like this or experience having someone like Yuki as a lover. 

“How did you find this place?” you ask Yuki, turning to look at the taller woman. 

She grins, winking at you. “That’s a secret, baby. I come here when I want to clear my thoughts. It’s pretty, isn’t it?” 

You stare up at the moon, hanging brightly in the late summer sky. “Yes, it’s beautiful.” 

(You were unaware of Yuki watching you like a hawk. She was tempted to say something cheesy like Not as beautiful as you, but decided not to for once.) 

“Stay here, I’ll be right back and we can continue our date!” Yuki cries loudly, and after blowing you a kiss, she walks into the part of the field with the sunflowers. She’s a tall woman, but they were so tall they hid her frame once she was engulfed in them. 

You stay there, taking in the ethereal nighttime all around you, though you were curious about where Yuki was going. The two of you usually walked hand in hand, so you wonder why she took off without you. Maybe she’s planning to jump out and scare me…? 

You hear a rustle, and see Yuki running back to you with a big grin on her face, a whole bunch of flowers in one hand. She stops a foot in front of you before getting down on one knee. 

Your heart skips a beat as she exclaims, “A handmade bouquet by yours truly for my one and only type! My one and only girl!” She holds out the flowers, and you dumbly reach out to take them, successfully turned to mush. You were sure you would have melted into a puddle if it was physically possible. 

Just as you open your mouth to respond, you hear shouting in the distance. You both turn your heads at the same time to see a figure in the distance, and a voice that sounded like an old man screaming out, “You again?! How many times do I have to tell you to stay the hell out of my field?!” 

You and Yuki turn to one another, share one glance, and then immediately run to her motorcycle, hurrying to put on your helmets. She takes the flowers from you as you finish putting yours on, and you take it back and jump on the bike as the old man gets closer, still shouting. 

“Hold on, babygirl! Off we go!” She reeves the engine, and turns her head back as she shouts to the farmer, “Sorry!” 

You can’t help but burst out laughing, and she joins you. You’re both breathless and in tears from how hard you were guffawing at the situation. Hearing her giggle lit up the night, gripping onto the bouquet she haphazardly made you, you feel an unexplainable feeling settle over you. The scent of the flowers tickles your nose, blown by the wind cutting around the motorcycle. 

Oh, I’m falling in love. 

Sukuna: Kills a man for you.

[nico-di-genova]

Prompt?? Request?? Idk what this is but it’s been stuck in my head and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it!!

——

Frat boy au where lance is super straight passing and acts really frat bro-y. But it’s Outside POV from another person in the college who assumes he’s probably homophobic and doesn’t treat women well/ all that stereotypical frat boy stuff. They complain abt fratboys all the time to their friends too and it’s this whole known thing in their friend group. Then they see him get into this super fancy car with a hot older man (nando ofc) and is like what’s up with that. Person keeps trying to ironically figure out if lance is part of the mafia or some other mystery. Turns out he’s in a loving relationship with his sugar daddy nando (person sees them kissing at a gay bar one night, among other things 😏) and after that they’re like damn wtf and have a change in perception of lance and can’t shut up about it and tells everyone “did u know lance is gay?!!” Other shenanigans ensue.

Bonus if they become friends in the end and lance tells them all the different ways and places nando fucks him.

I need you to know that this has unlocked something that I have been talking with my irls about for literally a month now. I will write this whole thing for you, but right now please enjoy this snippet and some Lore ™.

Also this may be so uniquely specific that no one will enjoy it, but I need everyone to know this has been my secret passion project for weeks now.

Logan absolutely despises group projects. He especially despises them when he’s partnered with perhaps the worst possible group of people you could be partnered with on an assignment that is responsible for a quarter of their grade. Other than the girl sitting to his left, her blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail, spreading out notes in multi-colored pen and highlighter, their table is the least inspiring of the lot. For one, there’s him, who had barely passed elementary calc. last year and was on his way to failing macroeconomics this semester. But it’s the two sitting across from him that instill a particular sort of dread.

“You going to Rusty’s tonight?” one of them asks, Esteban, tall and lanky and slumped so low in his chair that Logan can almost touch his feet even though he’s clear on the other side of the table.

The other one, Lance, broad and just as long as his friend, shrugs, “I don’t know, man. Getting kind of bored of it.”

Logan watches as Lance takes off his backwards cap long enough to ruffle at his hair before sliding the hat back down onto his head. There’s Greek lettering embroidered along back for some fraternity Logan doesn’t know the letters of, but is sure they’re assholes, nonetheless. He’s seen the way Lance strolls into class enough times, backpack slung over one shoulder, if he even bothers to bring it, his phone in the other. He wears his AirPods during class, which easily outs him as the elitist snob he is – the type of student who’s here partying on daddy’s dime, who wouldn’t know what the term ‘work study’ meant if it ran him over with the  bike Logan knows Lance keeps in the University Village parking lot. Logan couldn’t afford off-campus housing, but he knows Lance can, the bike is always parked in a resident spot.

The girl beside him shifts her notes closer, he turns his attention to her, so he doesn’t have to hear Lance recount his exploits at the local bar that is known for serving underage undergrads.

“You took all of these?” He asks the girl, mildly impressed. Her handwriting is neat, so neat it almost looks unnatural. She’s color coded them, bolded certain words and underlined others. Logan is suddenly ashamed of the chicken scratch in his notebook that’s tucked beneath his arm.

For those that don’t know, Florida Gulf Coast University is a school in Fort Myers (in south Florida, on the opposite coast of Miami). Their big draw is being “close” to the beach, realistically it’s like a 30 minute drive.

They typically attract local kids on scholarship, or rich northerners who are just looking for an easy education. But they do offer a unique golf management degree, and their claim to fame is that they’re sometimes decent in the basketball department (like 1 time in 2015 but they just will not let it go). They also somewhat have a reputation as a party school (tho I think Miami definitely more than them).

Being built predominantly around preserved land, FGCU also has a big “eco-friendly” outlook. So lots of walking paths, a course called colloquium that all students have to take, and the one everyone dreads because you have to walk through the swamp for part of it. Lucky for Lance, he would have attended during the COVID years, and thus could avoid the swamp walk because all courses were virtual.

He’d probably be a member of Alpha Epsilon Pi, the Jewish fraternity on campus. They’re lowkey, but also kind of throw the best parties, off-campus of course because FGCU doesn’t have official fraternity or sorority housing. In this world Lance has definitely drank jungle juice from a trash can with a nozzle cut into the base. He is aware of the existence of “Saturdays are for the boys” flags, frat boy Lance is something that can be both repulsive and endearing.

He has a car, but most the time he opts to take his bike places. Fernando first runs into him when he’s in his bike gear actually, which, you know, hard to resist that. Plus, picture Fernando being Lance’s backpack. Please envision it, it’s a very important image. It’s definitely happened in this universe.

Strollonso beach dates??? Yeah, 100% happened here too. One of the reasons Lance even ends up at FGCU is because of the beach, so you know his ass is there most weekends. He forgets sunscreen frequently, Fernando is used to applying aloe to his back after they’ve spent a long day on the boat. He probably has that sunburned warmth to him like 24/7. He never forgets his sunglasses though, so he also maybe has raccoon eyes.

Oh yeah, and Logan, being a South Florida boy, probably would have attended FGCU too. His tinder profile unfortunately probably does feature a photo of him holding a fish. Just Florida boy things.

Anyway, this maybe is nothing. But if you want to talk more about this au please feel free to message me/send an ask. And I will 100% be ready to ramble more about this ultra specific fic. A chapter coming after keep to the line this weekend maybe.

[dhorrl]

Love Yourself The Way I Love You

Eijiro Kirishima/Reader

Inspired by this piece by @dcsiremc So please everyone who loves this man the way I do, give them all the love.

Trigger Warnings: Not much, it's Eijiro :) some mild spanking, biting/marking kink.

The sound of your phone ringing interrupts your thoughts, and a thrill runs through you as you see the name Eijiro flashing on the screen. You've been together for a few months now, and he never fails to make you smile and feel giddy like a teenager in love.

In every video he sends, Eijiro's enthusiasm and positivity shines through. He beams as he showcases his workouts, effortlessly lifting weights that are two or three times your body weight. You can't help but admire the way his muscles ripple and flex with each movement, and you're mesmerized by the droplets of sweat that bead on his skin. It's clear that Eijiro is not only physically strong, but also radiates confidence in his own skin. And that's what truly draws you in to him.

As you eagerly click on the message, your heart races with anticipation. The screen lights up and reveals Eijiro's sweaty figure in a dimly lit gym, grunting as he lifts weights effortlessly. Your eyes trail down his muscular arms and chest, and your cheeks flush as you catch a glimpse of his chiseled abs. But it's his playful wink and flirty message at the end that make your heart flutter.

"Hey, gorgeous. Just wanted to let you know that you're always on my mind, even when I'm not around 😉"

A small squeal escapes from your lips as you read his message, the warmth and affection for him growing stronger inside of you. As the video comes to an end, you quickly type out a reply thanking him for the sweet message and add some flirty emojis of your own. However, before you can press send, another message from Eijiro appears on your screen.

"Can't wait to see you tonight 😉❤️"

As the day passes, you can't help but constantly check your phone, hoping for another message from Eijiro. Finally, your wish is granted when he sends another picture of himself, shirtless, with a towel draped around his neck and sweat glistening on his toned chest and abs.

"Just a little teaser of what's to come tonight 😏"

As you gazed at the photo, your cheeks flushed hot as your eyes traced the sculpted muscles of your boyfriend's body. Your mouth watered and your thighs involuntarily clenched at the thought of being with someone so physically powerful and impressive.

As the evening approaches, a sense of dread fills your stomach. You know you should be excited for him to come over, but all you can think about are the things you hate about yourself. You hastily try on outfit after outfit, each one making you feel more and more insecure.

As you finally settle on a dress, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and immediately want to change. But there's no time left. Your hair and makeup become a mask as you desperately try to distract yourself from the fear of not looking good enough. And then there's a knock at the door, and suddenly you're filled with conflicting emotions - excitement at seeing him, but also dread at the thought of him seeing the real you.

Your heart flutters as you catch sight of him, dressed in a tight black t-shirt and jeans that highlight every muscle on his toned body. You let out a teasing whistle, unable to resist the urge to admire him.

"Hey Eiji, you look incredible," you say with a hint of envy as he walks towards you. "Come on in, baby. I missed you so much today." You can't help but feel self-conscious next to him, tugging at the hem of your dress nervously.

As his broad shoulders fill the doorway, Eijiro's eager grin and booming voice instantly brighten the room. He engulfs you in a bear hug, lifting you off your feet with ease. His eyes roam over your body appreciatively, a playful smirk gracing his lips.

"You look amazing," he says sincerely, his warm smile lighting up his face.

As he sets you back on the ground, his red eyes sparkle with adoration as they take in your appearance. "Why hide that gorgeous body of yours in that loose dress? You know I love every inch of you," he murmurs softly, his affection for you evident in his words and actions.

Eijiro's large hands firmly grip the sides of your dress, pulling the fabric taut against your body and accentuating every curve. He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear.

"I can't stop thinking about what's hidden under there," he says with a husky tone. "Those thick thighs of yours drive me crazy." You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin as a shiver runs down your spine. "So how about we cut to the chase and I start worshipping my girl right now?"

As you feel the heat rise in your cheeks, you stutter out a response. Eiji looks at you with those intense, mesmerizing eyes and you can't help but blush even more.

"You're crazy," you say, trying to hide your insecurity. Your hands trace over his toned chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt, even without his Quirk activated. You can't believe someone like him would want someone like you, and it shows in the way you fidget and avoid eye contact.

Eijiro's grin threatened to split his face in two as he felt your fingers brush against his skin. He couldn't help but lean into the touch, savoring the warmth that radiated from your palms.

"Damn, babe, I'm head over heels for you," he chuckles, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "Your strength and passion drive me crazy. And this body," his voice drops to a low growl, his eyes darkening with desire, "it's yours and it's perfect."

Leaning even closer, he traces a calloused finger down your cheek, marveling at how soft and delicate it feels under his rough touch. "You gotta see yourself through my eyes. You're fierce and beautiful and I plan on proving it to you every chance I get."

A sly grin spreads across his face, and his eyes light up with a mischievous glint. "I have an idea," he says, barely suppressing a chuckle. "Let's make a little wager. If I can make you scream my name so loud that the neighbors hear, you have to say one nice thing about yourself for each time it happens."

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he continues, "And trust me..." His gaze drops down to the noticeable bulge in his pants, making your heart race with anticipation. "I'm planning on hearing my name a lot tonight."

You swallow hard, feeling your cheeks flush with heat as you nod in agreement. Your eyes dart down to the impressive size of his bulge and you bite your lip nervously; there's no way you can refuse a bet like that, even if you end up losing.

"Y-yeah...okay, its a deal."

Eijiro's lips curl into a savage smirk, revealing sharp canines that seem to glint with primal desire. He inhales deeply, taking in the scent of your arousal and nervous excitement. His strong arms envelop you in a tight embrace, pressing your body against his sculpted chest.

"You won't regret making that bet," he growls into your ear, his hands trailing down your spine until they firmly grip your hips, grinding them against his own evident erection.

With a firm grip, he guides you towards the bedroom, his predatory gaze never faltering. You can feel the electricity between your bodies as his hands explore every inch of your skin, igniting flames of desire with each touch. As you enter the bedroom, Eijiro's fingers trail more boldly along your curves, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"Let's start by getting rid of this dress," he whispers in a husky voice, deftly unzipping it and sliding it off your shoulders. "I need to see the body that drives me wild."

The dress pools at your feet, revealing your bare body to him. He bites his lip in appreciation before gently turning you towards the full-length mirror on the wall. With him standing behind you, his heat radiates against your back as you meet his intense gaze in the reflection.

"Look at us," he commands, leaving no room for argument, his hands sliding around your waist. "I want you to see what I see—how damn perfect we fit together. How fucking gorgeous you are."

He begins to trail kisses along your shoulder, each one a mix of soft lips and the graze of his sharp teeth. With each kiss, he whispers praises, each word a testament to the beauty he sees in your body and spirit.

"Tell me something you love about yourself," he says between kisses. "Say it, or I'll have to convince you with my own ways, and you know I can be very persuasive…"

You look in the mirror, your mind flooded only with criticism as you look at the curves and rolls on your body, hating every thing you see. 

"I don’t know Eiji… I-I just don’t see it. I wish I did."

His eyes soften momentarily, deeply affected by your vulnerability, but the determination doesn't wane in his gaze. Eijiro’s hands trail up, cupping your face gently, making you to look into his eyes through the reflection.

"I see it, babe. Every day, every damn second I'm with you," his voice is a low, soothing rumble, filled with conviction. "I see strength in these arms," he kisses each bicep, "beauty in these curves," his hands glide over your hips and waist, "and desire in the way you look at me."

Eijiro's lips find the nape of your neck, nipping lightly. "I'll say it for you. You have a heart that's fierce and kind. You're courageous, not scared by the bullshit life throws at you. And these thighs?" His hands grasp them, a mix of gentle and firm, "they're stunning, powerful, and they make me weak every time I see them."

He circles around you body, his back to the mirror. "I'm gonna make you feel so good, worship every inch of you until you can't deny it anymore. You. Are. Gorgeous. And I’ll make you scream it out."

Eijiro lowers his head, his mouth trailing down your body. He takes his time, his lips and tongue lavishing attention on every inch of skin, until he's kneeling in front of you, his face pressed against your thighs.

He looks up at you from his position, his eyes ablaze with lust. "Gonna start by showing these gorgeous thighs some love," he murmurs, before his tongue and lips get to work. 

The sensations are immediate and intense; his mouth is hot and insistent, his tongue swirling and licking while his teeth gently graze your skin. The feeling of being adored, worshipped, is undeniable.

You gasp as you feel his tongue and teeth starting to work your legs, knees weak at the sensation. 

"Eiji! Fuck… baby." You feel his shark-like teeth leaving marks on your skin, shiver with each mark of ownership. "Please… feels so good."

Eijiro looks up at you as he etches his mark onto your skin, a sense of pride swelling within him at the sound of your pleasure. His hands grip your thighs firmly, holding you steady as he works his magic.

"Good," he growls against your flesh, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure through you. "That's what I want to hear. Let everyone know who you belong to."

He continues his worship, his mouth a hot, wet contrast against your skin, leaving trails of saliva as he moves higher, his breath ghosting over the ache growing between your legs. Eijiro takes his time, savoring every sound you make, every shiver you can't control.

His large hands roam across your ass, kneading the flesh with a strength that promises so much more. He slaps it lightly, a reverberating sound that punctuates the air, leaving a warm sting that makes your heart race.

"You're so fucking responsive," he praises, voice laced with lust. "Now, tell me... What do you want next? You wanna feel my mouth where you're aching for me the most? Or should I use my fingers to get you wet and ready for my cock? You better say something nice, or I'm stopping right now."

His words are an obscene promise, filled with the knowledge of just how much you can take and how much he's willing to give. Every syllable drips with the primal need to see you unravel under his touch, to have you claiming as much pleasure from him as he does from you.

You look down at him, feeling your cunt quivering around nothing as you imagines every vulgar thing he wants to do to you. 

"I want all of it. Love when you touch me, when you mark me, when you make me yours." Your fingers run through his hair, mussing up the gel holding it in place. "You remind me… remind me that I’m more than my self-doubts. You make me feel pretty."

"Babe, you're so much more," he vows, his voice a husky whisper as he lowers his head to place a tender kiss on your pussy through your panties, his tongue darting our to suck on the wet spot.

He hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, peeling them down your legs with purposeful slowness, unveiling the part of you that he's claimed as his sanctuary. He loves sight of you, fully exposed and glistening with anticipation.

"I'll remind you, gonna keep reminding you," he affirms, his voice thick with passion. He leans in, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. The first deliberate flick of his tongue against your clit is a spark that ignites your body, a gentle promise of the fire to come.

Eijiro lavishes you with attention, his tongue exploring every fold, every crevice with an insatiable hunger. His large hands spread your thighs wider, his grip unyielding as he devours you. He moans against you, the vibration adding another layer of sensation.

With every swirl of his tongue, every nip at your sensitive skin, he pours his affirmation into you. He's a man on a mission—a mission to make you see yourself through his eyes, through the lens of raw, unfiltered passion.

"Tell me when you're close," he begs, his voice muffled against your pussy. "I want to hear you fall apart, and then I want you to look in the mirror and see the goddess that you truly are."

As Eijiro works you towards climax, his eyes remain locked on yours, making sure you can see the truth in his gaze with each stroke of his tongue: you are desirable, you are beautiful, you are loved.

Your knees press against his shoulders as you struggle to stay standing, your eyes more on him that the mirror as he buries his face deep into your dripping cunt, gripping onto his hair. His hands cup around you ass, supporting your entire weight as if you weigh nothing at all.

"Fuck… fuck I’m so close. Gonna make a mess if you keep that up… E-Eijiro! Fuck, Eijiro!!"

The fervor in your voice is like music to Eijiro's ears, each exclamation of his name spurring him on, his tongue relentless in its pursuit to unravel you. He feels the tremors coursing through your thighs, the sweet tension building within you, and it ignites a primal, possessive heat in his blood.

"That's it," he encourages, his voice muffled by your soaked folds as he doubles down on his efforts, his tongue swirling around your throbbing clit with a predator's precision. "Give it to me, babe. Let it out. Make that fucking mess."

His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass, holding you as your climax hits. Eijiro revels in the taste of you, the wetness that spills forth as testament to the raw intensity between you. Your body convulses, your cries echo, and Eijiro absorbs each and every sound, each shudder, engraving them into his very soul.

As your orgasm wanes, he gently eases you down onto his lap, pulling your legs around his waist and grounding you. His eyes, glowing with pride and adoration, never leave your face. A smirk of satisfaction plays on his lips, the sight before him one of pure triumph.

His own arousal is evident in the way his pants tent against his growing erection, but his thoughts right now are only on you. He presses a soft, worshipful kiss to your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on him. His hands frame your face, his thumbs caressing your cheeks.

"Look at you," he whispers with a voice thick with emotion. "So fucking beautiful. Now, I believe you owe me some more nice words about yourself. And I want to hear them, babe. Because you are everything, especially to me. So, tell me. What do you love about yourself right now?"

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, focusing on his kind eyes as you try to find the right words.

"I… I love how confident I feel when I'm with you," you say, your voice still shaking slightly. "And I love the way you look at me, like I'm the most beautiful person in the world. It makes me believe that maybe I am."

"You are," he says, his voice soft but full of conviction. "In every sense of the word." He leans in to press another lingering kiss on your lips before continuing. "I also love how strong and capable you are. You always push yourself and never give up. It's one of the things that drew me to you from the beginning."

"And lastly," Eijiro says with a mischievous glint in his eye, "I fucking love how hot and sexy you are." His hand slides down to cup between your legs and rub teasingly against your still-sensitive clit. "I'm not done showing you just how pretty you are, how much you turn me on." His voice dips into a low growl. "I want you to feel every inch of my cock inside you, reminding you with every thrust that you're mine and that you're the most stunning girl in the world."

Eijiro's arms wrap around your trembling thighs and lift you off the floor, sitting on the edge of the bed, positioning you in front of a large mirror. You can feel the heat radiating off of his muscular body.

Your eyes were drawn to his massive cock, its girth and length impossible to ignore as it bounced against his rock-hard abs. Without hesitation, you reached for it with one hand, marveling at its size as your fingers struggled to fully wrap around it.

"Mmm, Eiji...your cock always fills me up and stretches me just right," you moaned, lost in the pleasure of his touch.

Eijiro's breath hitches at the feel of your hand on him, and a deep, guttural groan escapes his lips as you tease his tip with your slick heat. "Damn, babe, hearing you talk about my dick like that..." His words trail off into a lustful growl.

His red eyes are fixed on the junction where your body meets his, watching as you slide his tip around your entrance, coating him with your arousal and readying him for the tight, warm embrace of your cunt. "I love the way you take me, how you stretch around me. It's fucking perfect, just like you."

He grips your hips, steadying you as you align yourself with him. He looks into your eyes, his gaze full of heat and an overwhelming desire to please you, to overwhelm you with sensation until your previous insecurities fade into nothing.

You give him a subtle nod, signaling your readiness. He helps you slowly lower yourself down, and both of you gasp as his hard length penetrates you. It's a slow and steady process, each inch filling you with a pleasurable ache that makes both of you catch your breath.

You let out a low moan, feeling slight discomfort as your body adjusts to accommodate his size. Taking deep breaths, you try to relax and allow him to fully enter you.

"That's it," Eijiro encourages, his voice rough with restraint as he watches you take more and more of him. "Fuck, you're so tight, so perfect for me. You feel that? That's you conquering every fucking inch of me. So powerful, so fucking sexy."

Once you're fully seated, Eijiro pauses, letting you adjust to the intense fullness, the sensation of being completely claimed by him. His hands move to caress your thighs, your ass—every part of you he can touch—as he waits for your signal to move.

"Take your time, babe. When you're ready, we'll move together. Slow and steady at first, then as hard and fast as you want. This is about you, about us. I want you to feel every stroke, every thrust. I want to make you love this as much as I love you."

His hands grip your waist, guiding your movements as you ride him, his fingers digging into your flesh with urgency. The room is filled with nothing but the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, your combined moans, and the steady creak of furniture straining under the force of your passionate union.

"That's it, moan for me," he commands between grunts, his eyes locked on yours as he thrusts up into you with a fervent need to claim you. "Let everyone know who's making you feel this good. Who you belong to."

His words trigger something in you, a release of inhibition as your screams grow louder, uninhibited. Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving marks that he wears with pride as badges of your pleasure.

As you move together, the pain gives way to pure ecstasy, and Eijiro pours every ounce of his strength and love into each thrust. His cock drives into you, hitting spots that have you seeing stars, the pleasure so intense it borders on overwhelming.

His primal, dominant side is in full display as he dictates the tempo, his hips snapping up to meet yours with each descent. The sight of you - flushed, writhing, and utterly surrendered to the pleasure - only fuels his desire to drive you to another climax.

Eijiro's lips leave a trail of fire on your skin, igniting every nerve ending as his hands grip your hips and guide you to the edge of the bed. Your bodies move in perfect synchronization, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you.

In between heated kisses and breathless moans, Eijiro turns your face towards the mirror. "Look at us," he commands, his voice thick with desire. You lock eyes with him in the reflection, seeing the raw passion and desire reflected back.

Your bodies are a perfect fit, his muscular frame providing a powerful contrast to your softer curves. Every move feels as if you were created to come together in this moment. "This is how it's meant to be," he whispers, reaffirming the intense connection between you.

Tears run down your face as you whisper, "I see it all, Eiji. Every single part of us." Your words are filled with vulnerability. "You have me completely, and I have you."

You ride him with wild abandon, the slick sounds filling the air alongside your cries. He watches with pure adoration as pleasure contorts your face, knowing he's the cause of the beautiful sight before him.

Eijiro's thrusts become erratic, a sign he's close to the edge, but he's determined to take you over first. His hand moves between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing in fast, rough circles.

"Come on, babe," he growls, his own control fraying at the seams. "Cum for me again. I want you to drench my cock with that sweet pussy. Do it. Now."

Eijiro's lips crash against yours in a tempest of fervor and desire, his tongue tangling with yours as his hips begin to move, driving into you with a rhythm that gradually escalates from a controlled pace to a fervent onslaught.

The raw, unfiltered desire in his eyes, the commanding tone in his voice, and the relentless assault on your clit push you over the brink once more. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with a force that leaves you breathless and quaking. 

As you shudder and scream his name, Eijiro follows, his own climax tearing through him with a roar. He fills you with his heat, his essence marking you as much as his teeth did on your thighs.

As he empties himself into you, Eijiro's embrace is possessive yet protective, holding you close as if to meld your bodies into one. His head buries into the crook of your neck, his hot breath cascading over your skin while he pants, trying to catch his breath, his heart racing against your chest.

"You're so fucking amazing," he whispers, pressing soft, languid kisses to your shoulder and neck. "You're the strongest, sexiest woman I know. And you’re all mine."

His tender words are a soothing balm, a stark contrast to the wildness of before, as he holds you in the quiet aftermath of your shared ecstasy. In this moment, everything is perfect – and Eijiro intends to spend every day making sure you know just how perfect you are to him.

"Eijiro," you whisper, breaking the comfortable silence between you.

"Yes, my love?" he replies, his voice soft and full of adoration.

"I've never felt so loved and desired before. Thank you for making me feel so beautiful."

Eijiro pulls your face up to meet his, his eyes glistening with emotion. "You are beautiful, inside and out. And I will always be here to remind you of that."

He holds you both physically and emotionally in that space, the air filled with the essence of your shared ecstasy, the bond between you unbreakable. "I love every part of you. Always will."

[daengtokki]

✩•̩̩͙*Christmas Photos⁺˚•̩̩͙*

Kim Seungmin/Female Reader

for @seungmint

wc: ~500 (plus precious minnie photos)

rating: -`♡´- FLUFF -`♡´-

༝﹡˖˟･･༶

There's a soft knock at the door. If you didn't have the tv up so loud, you would have heard it easily, and you would have recognized it immediately. But you're alone tonight, and you're expecting to stay that way. Eyes remain closed through the beep of the keypad.

You're sinking into the couch. The most recent Skz footage is playing on the tv. That's your date for the night.

Seungmin is so quiet when he wants to be. Light on his feet and sneaky. He tiptoes across the living room, avoiding the spots where he knows the floor will squeek—leans over the top of the couch, looks down at you, and smiles.

But he knows he'll scare the shit out of you if you open your eyes to a face, even his face, staring down, grinning stupidly. Now he has to figure out how to let you know he's here, so he pulls out his phone and starts to type.

wake up wake up ☃❆

Your phone buzzes in your hand. He hears it, and then he hears you stir and sit up.

"I'm up I'm up...what are you doing, pup?''

He listens and giggles silently as you hum along to your typing. But Seungmin knows he's failed as soon as his phone buzzes loudly. He looks up from his spot on the floor, greeted by your smiling face staring down at him.

"Nice try Min," you hop to your feet and get to him as quickly as possible, fall to the floor, arms tight around him. You kiss him all over his face, "what are you doing here?"

"I came to see you. I didn't want you to be alone."

"I didn't think you'd have time."

"I made time. And I have one more gift for you anyway," he points to the door where he left a big red and gold bag, "have you been out in the snow?"

You shake your head, "not since I got home last night, but there wasn't much on the ground yet."

"Okay, let's do that first!"

---

You follow him out to the empty street. There isn't very much snow, but enough to cover everything and make it feel a little more Christmasy. The best part is that there's nobody around, and it's perfectly quiet except for the crunch of the snow under your feet.

"Aren't you cold?" you pull out your phone and look at him through your camera. The streetlights don't make the best mood lighting, but Seungmin looks handsome no matter where he is.

'A little...are you going to take my picture?"

"Yeah, hold still. I mean, I know you can never hold still, but try for me."

Seungmin laughs and turns to face you.

You pull up your camera roll to check. "That's a cute one."

"Can I take yours, too?" He spins and lets his arms swing wildly around him.

"If you want to, sure."

"And we should take some together!"

"For real Minnie, hold still for one second."

"That's better. Very handsome...what a jawline."

He struggles to keep a straight face, but manages. "Okay, let me get serious."

"You look sad in that one, look up at me."

"Perfect. Miniverse worthy."

"Okay, my turn!"

[zerobaseonefics]

midnight blues ㅡ park hanbin

park hanbin x gn!reader

requested : park hanbin comforts reader when their midnights thoughts make them feel like they're not good enough.

genre : fluff, angst

for my 🐻 anon <3

the clock striked twelve hours ago and outside, the night was already at its darker state. you were left alone in your thoughts. you didn't if you were just going through some hard times, maybe it was the accumulation of small events that made you feel like this.

the lights in your room were turned off and you were laying on your back. the only light in the room was coming from the screen of your phone, held in your hands as you were looking at it with hesitation. a message discussion with your boyfriend, park hanbin, was opened on the screen. you wrote a text but you didn't know if you should send it. you already felt like a burden tonight, and you didn't want to feel like this even more.

it was one of those nights, where you couldn't found sleep, and your thoughts got the best of you. were you enough? were you failing in what you were doing in life? were you deserving of love? even if you were, did anybody actually loved you?

the last question made you think about him. you finally pressed send.

hanbin are you sleeping?

after two minutes on delivered, you figured he was asleep, but suddenly, the message marked read. you saw he was typing for a few seconds, then he stopped. incoming call. you picked up.

"why are you not sleeping? it's 3am" hanbin asked with worry in his voice.

"did i wake you up?" you answered.

"don't worry about that i was awake already. i went to drink water."

"i'm sorry, you can go back to sleep."

"is everything okay?"

his question made you hold your breath. what were you supposed to say? you'd feel like an attention seeker if you ever said no, plus it was just hard to answer this when someone asked you if you were okay. and what would he do if you said you weren't fine? comfort you?

that's actually the reason why you called him, and he did it already in the past, but the pressure on your shoulders that night made you insecure about him as well.

when he saw you took time to answer, he understood something was wrong.

"i'll be there in 15. you can wait for me, right?"

a knot formed itself in your throat, trying not to cry when he said that. you nodded like he could see you, "yes, i'll wait". before you could say thank you, hanbin hanged up.

you sighed in relief and a few tears rolled down your cheeks. he wasn't here yet but part of the weight on your shoulder was gone. with the back of your hand, you wiped away the tears on your face and got up to wait for him in the living room. after 15 minutes, just like he said, hanbin was at your door and texted you to open it to him. you did and found him there with a big smile. you couldn't help but smile as well.

when he got into your apartment, he stand behind you and let you close the door with the key. when you were done with that, his arms immediatly wrapped around your body from behind, pulling you closer to him as he kissed you temple. his lips trailed down to your cheeks, then your jaw, and finally you neck, before he hid his face in the crook of your neck. "did you miss me?" he asked, his voice muffled by his lips against your skin. you nodded, not able to talk because you knew you'll just end up crying. "missed you too", he said.

he pulled apart from you, taking your hand gently. hanbin analyzed your face, marked by tiredness, and despite the dim lights, he could easily see you were trying not to cry.

"should we go to your room? we'll talk about it here." once again, you didn't say anything, nodding silently. hanbin decided to pick you up, bridal style, making you laugh because you didn't expect it. with how much he came to your place, the boy knew the way to your bedroom, so he had no problem even in the dark to take you there.

softly, hanbin made you lay on the bed. he took off his jacket and his shoes before crawling to you. his body below yours, his two hands were on both side of your body, caging you. his face got closer to you as he went to pepper your face with kisses. a smile finally appeared on your face, making him smile as well. with one of his hand, he pushed the hair strands that were falling on your face back in their place. hanbin put his hand behind your neck, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

"so, you'd like to tell me what's wrong or do you just want to rest?" he said with the comforting smile. he didn't want to look too worried because he knew it would make you feel bad, but he made sure you could see he was really interested in your feelings and willing to listen and comfort you. you looked away.

"you know, midnight blues. i just feel like i don't know what i'm doing, i'm not doing anything right, and i'm just not good enough."

"but you're more than enough though."

"you think so?"

hanbin finally lied next to you. he tapped on his chest, ordering you to lay on it. you did, resting your head and your hand on his torso as his went to play with your hair.

"you know, i couldn't wish for anyone better than you. i'm pretty sure i'll never love someone as much as i love you". you restrained a smile as your fingers traced random shapes on his chest.

"i'm afraid it's just words." you said in a quiet voice.

"it's not! no one gets me like you do. you take well care of me and you always make me feel good. i love spending time with you even if we do nothing. you're being hard on yourself but i promise i wouldn't change you for anything. you're just perfect like that."

you didn't know what to say nor what to do. you just burried your face in his neck, finally letting hot tears rolled down your eyes and wetting the skin of his neck. hanbin just held you closer.

"thank you, you don't know how much i needed to hear that."

"don't doubt yourself, okay? and don't doubt me."

after about 20 minutes, you ended up falling asleep under his touch, still over him. hanbin knew you couldn't hear that, but he said it to the darkness in your room anyways.

"i love you."

for with every new dawn comes a new day, and the night soon fade away. as the sun started to rise and shine through your curtains, curled up to your lover, you knew you will wake up feeling worthy and strong. because you are enough.

[blackwolfstabs]

30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 24

CONFESSION

"He was responsible for this just as much as she was."

AU: Anika survived her attack in Scream VI :)

Tara spent hours pacing in her bedroom, watching time go by and fighting her fluctuating anxiety that had her fetching her inhaler more than she should, especially now, since… 

No, stop thinking about it. 

That was the problem, and she had two ways to handle it right now. She could either try to talk about it or try to sleep and forget about it. However, it was pretty fucking clear which one was promised to fail.

She didn’t want to do this… She really didn’t. She didn’t mean for it to happen anyway. Neither of them did. One thing just led to another and…

Fuck.

She pulled her phone up from clutching it at her side. The screen lit up to glow the time and a thread of unanswered text messages from Chad.

11:24 PM.

She couldn’t read through the texts. There were at least 20, and they had stopped around 7:00 that night. When she hadn’t answered, he had texted Sam, who’d told him that she was okay, home, and doing homework so her phone was on Do Not Disturb. Tara had been the one to tell her she was doing homework, but that wasn’t the truth. She lied. Because she couldn’t focus on anything but the thoughts running a thousand miles per minute in her head.

The ones she had to get out.

She navigated to the Discord app, where she could find an immediate answer if who she needed to talk to was still awake. Discord was where she and her classmates kept in touch with assignments and questions and whatnot. It was the quickest way to get a response from someone, because there was always someone online, no matter what time of day.

Luck was finally on her side tonight. She found the green status symbol alive next to Mindy’s icon, leading her to immediately go to her DMs.

‘hey are u busy? there’s something i need to talk to u about’

Her heart was pounding, as if it was already set-in-stone that she would be spilling her anxiety to someone else. It wasn’t. Mindy may not be available. She could easily change her mind and say ‘nevermind. it’s nothing. sorry for bothering u’. But something kept her staring at the screen long enough to see Mindy start typing a response and then it coming through, reading:

‘What’s up??’

For a moment, Tara felt nauseous, her legs shaking as she bit her lip. 

‘um i’d rather talk to u in person. . . can i come over? if not, it’s ok. it can wait’

She knew she shouldn’t, but she had to add that last part as a final attempt to possibly get herself out of it. If Mindy said no, then it technically wasn’t her decision and she’d be forced to not tell anyone right now… right? 

But her luck vanished in a second.

‘yeah sure. Chad’s already asleep so he won’t bother us, but Anika’s still here. We can go to my room to talk if you want.’

Now, there was no backing out. It was a relief that Chad was promised to stay out of the picture, but now that it was mentioned, she didn’t think having Anika there would be a problem. In fact, it might make things easier with how compassionate and easy-going she was. So, she quickly replied.

‘no it’s fine, she can stay. i don’t mind talking with both of u’

‘Cool then come on over. I’ll unlock the door.’

‘kk’

Tara took another breath through her inhaler, before shoving it in her pocket and leaving her room. She gave Sam’s door a look as she passed, making sure that no light was detected from beneath it, before continuing to the front door. All she could hope for now was that Sam was in a deep enough sleep to not recognize the unlocking and re-locking of the locks, nor wake up to find her gone before she could return. She didn’t intend to make this conversation very long, because she was exhausted and would rather be alone. She just hoped Mindy and Anika wouldn’t drag it out any more than need-be. Well… she was confident that Anika wouldn’t, but Mindy was unpredictable.

Once she got to the Meeks-Martins’ apartment and went inside, she became really nauseous. Mindy had left for a brief moment, but Anika had gotten them all some water and was setting the cups down on the table. Tara swayed a little, bringing a ginger hand up to her stomach with a small whimper.

She should’ve waited until the morning to do this, when nothing was in her stomach. She hadn’t even wanted to eat dinner but forced herself to anyway, so Sam wouldn’t suspect anything was wrong with her. After all, her appetite had increased, once she started going to therapy and had been on different anxiety and depression medication. Sam was sure to get suspicious if she didn’t eat anything at all.

Anika heard her weak noise and looked over to find her holding her stomach. “Are you okay, Tara?” she asked.

The younger took a deep breath. “Erm… I-I think I just wanna go home… my stomach’s upset…” she replied, her legs starting to tremble again.

But this only made the other more concerned as she came over to her. “Okay, well, why don’t you sit down for a minute first? See if it feels better?” She kept a soft hand on her back and guided her to the nearest chair, before pushing one of the water cups up to her. “Here, take a few sips.”

When Tara sat down, her leg immediately started bouncing in that infamously anxious way it did when she felt that staying still was like the calm before the storm. That was something she and and Sam had in common— 

Sam…

She swore she couldn’t tell Sam what was going on, but it was hard not to want her around when she was this anxious. Just her sister’s presence was comforting, and if she were able to trust her with the truth, then she knew she would be able to be comforted the way she liked. But she just didn’t know…

She took a small sip of her water and a deep breath. Sitting down after shaking and pacing for so long actually seemed to take the edge off of her nervousness. It was a relief that made her realize just how much her feet were tired of bearing the pressure too.

“Is Sam not home?” Anika asked, knowing that Tara’s older sister was the first to know everything going on with her, ever since they eradicated the Kirsch family. Plus, whenever she was anxious like this, she always stayed close to Sam for comfort and security.

Carpenter set her cup down, shaking her head, “No, she’s home, just asleep.”

Right then, Mindy came back in, interjecting her apologies for her delay. “Sorry, I was catching up on some instructions for that paper that’s due next week.”

While Tara stayed quiet, Anika mentioned, “It’s fine. She just got really nauseous, so we haven’t talked much.”

But this made Mindy’s expression immediately switch to showing concern with underlying suspicion. If someone said they needed to talk and then became nauseous when they were given the opportunity to share, it was usually something that was risky. “It’s alright, take your time,” she assured, while she took a seat next to her girlfriend. “Is this your first time talking about whatever it is you need to talk about?”

Tara nodded without hesitation. She really wanted to just get it over with, blurt it out, and get all of the questions and awkward, judging moments of silence over with. “I… I just…” She paused to sigh again, trying to calm the waves of anxiety teasing her queasy stomach. “I’m just scared, because I don’t even know how to process it…” she whimpered.

“Well, let’s not worry about processing right now.” Anika reached her hand out to place it on Tara’s fidgeting hands. She then ran her thumb soothingly over her skin, “You can say whatever you wanna say, when you wanna say it.”

Beside her, Meeks-Martin nodded, “Yeah, whatever it is, it’s safe with us. Ring of Fire.”

‘Yeah, for now,’ Tara thought. It would be impossible to keep things a secret in the next coming weeks. She was already starting to feel the differences, which almost scared her more than telling someone, because she knew she’d be facing it all alone. She shifted in her seat and shrugged her shoulders, while giving a nervous glance down the hall… where the bedrooms were.

“Chad’s not going to come in, trust me,” Mindy promised, “Besides, even if he did, we’ll just tell him it’s girl stuff and he’ll go away.”

“N-no, that’s…” She couldn’t help but avoid all eye contact as she dropped her eyes to her lap. “It, uh… involves him actually…” This was where it got real. Unexpected tears suddenly rushed into her eyes, her chest feeling hot, while her throat started to close up.

The couple observing exchanged a glance, noticing her change in demeanor instantly. However, the longer they sat there, the more emotional Tara seemed to get.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Tara,” Anika rushed to calm her, getting up from her seat, when she saw the youngest’s figure shudder with a small sob. She knelt down next to her and wiped the tears that had started to fall.

But this just made Tara feel even more helpless as she drew her arms away from resting on the table-top to hug her torso, spine curving outward to hang her head further. “N-no, it’s not okay!” she cried, her voice pitched and whimper-like in trying to keep quiet.

“Yes, it is, T,” Mindy instantly told her, moving away from the table as well to go help comfort her. She came around and took the chair right next to her. “It is okay. Whatever it is, we can fix it or we can help you through it,” she soothed, gently beginning to rub her back in small circles. “Is this a coming-out thing?” She asked this, on account that what she was hiding concerned Chad and she hadn’t discussed it with Sam first, which was very weird for her. With how emotional she was becoming, it might suggest her having to break his heart, if hers no longer beat in the same direction.

However, Carpenter shook her head. “Mm— No…” She loved Chad. She loved him so much, which was why this was so hard. She didn’t know how he’d take it, because she didn’t even know how she could take it. There were options, of course, but it wasn’t just up to her. 

He was responsible for this just as much as she was.

“Tara.”

She glanced up with watery eyes to find Anika’s calm and comforting ones blinking back at her. 

“Take a deep breath… and tell us what you need to say.”

This was it. The point of no return. Tara closed her eyes, swallowed back the accumulated drainage clogging her esophagus, and took a deep breath. She felt Anika’s touch on her leg begin to pet her in a similar motion that Mindy was performing on her upper back. Her stomach twinged, which made her loosen her arms’ tight hold on it. She didn’t dare open her eyes. 

“I’m pregnant.”

All my best! ♡ - parker

[zoeyslament]

Even Poets Get Sleepy Sometimes

A Nischa oneshot in which Noel stays up late writing a poem, and Mischa finally gets him to sleep.

Your voice,

Though I hear it every day,

Never fails to bring a smile to my face.

Your hands,

Though I hold them every waking moment,

Caress mine like no other.

Your…

Noel slammed his fist against the table, crumpled the yellowing paper, and tossed it into the waste basket. Absolute garbage, what he’d just written. He clicked his ballpoint pen a few times and then threw it down against the hard mahogany of his desk, head falling backwards.

“Try writing poetry they said,” he grumbled, “It’ll be fun, they said!” His eyes went wide as he stared up at the ceiling. “Gets the anger out, they said!”

Noel stood up, went to his bed, and wrapped himself in a fluffy red throw blanket. “I promised myself I’d have this done tonight.” He sucked in a breath, ignoring any thoughts of giving up and going to sleep. The old fashioned clock above his bed read 9:07. It was a school night, but that didn’t really matter. With his luck, he’d sleep in and miss the morning bell anyway. He was about to get started on the poem once more when he felt a buzzing sensation in his pocket.

He whipped out his phone to reveal a text message from Mischa.

M: You left your hoodie at my place

He sighed, and typed out a reply.

N: Ik, I’ll get it tmrw

M: I will bring it over

N: Mischa its like nine at night!!

M: So?

N: Ur not a good driver let alone at night

M: YOLO

Noel didn’t know what was stupider: the fact that Mischa was coming over to drop off a stupid hoodie, or the fact that he’d unironically used YOLO. His boyfriend really was not the sharpest tool in the shed. Noel rolled his eyes, smirking.

“Knowing him, he’ll show up and want to stay.” Noel chuckled. “He can sleep while I finish this up.”

He started writing once more:

With your touch, my worries fade

With your song, my mind’s at ease

With your…

What could he possibly put down next? He frowned at the page. “Come on, Noel, think!”

He thought alright. He sat there and thought for a good twenty minutes. Most of the thoughts he had were less about poetry and more about how hungry he was (mom had gotten McDonald’s for dinner and Noel would rather sit in a tub of monkey piss than eat a McNugget) or about all the homework that would enevitably be due before he even finished his first stanza.

In that time, Mischa had thrown on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt (and was very tempted to put on Noel’s hoodie, as well, but resisted for the sake of his gangsta persona, yo) and taken to his beat up Civic for a late-night spin. Noel’s place was only a few minutes away, so he arrived in about twenty after a slight detour to the local 7-11 for a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos.

Mischa had been to his boyfriend’s place enough times to know the drill—front door was always locked after 7, but Noel locked the back door before he went to sleep, and clearly the poet was still awake. So Mischa, hoodie and half-eaten bag of Cheetos in hand, hopped the fence to the Grubers’ backyard (there was a gate but it was too dark to see the latch, and frankly Mischa enjoyed jumping fences) where he was presented with the back patio in all its glory.

It was a few measly slabs of cement and a rocking chair.

He knocked on the back door once, twice, three times, before twisting the knob. Unlocked, just like always. He politely wiped his feet on the mat, took off his shoes, and tiptoed through the living room, kitchen, down the hall, and eventually into Noel’s room.

It was rather spacious—Noel had the master bedroom since his mother wasn’t home enough to make use of it. The walls were a sort of green-grey, with deep red velvet curtains hung over the single, dew-glazed window. Noel’s antique vanity, which doubled as a desk, was sat below said window. On it was a pile of paper, a framed picture of the choir, a picure of Noel and his mom, and several lit scented candles. In fact, there were candles littered everywhere. Noel was really into mood lighting, apparently.

Noel, as of then, was hard at work and didn’t even see Mischa come in. So, naturally, Mischa swooped in and enveloped him in a big bear hug, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. Noel jumped, but quickly melted into it.

“Remind me never to text you again?” Noel hissed at him, mood suddenly back to snarky and broody. “Using YOLO is henceforth forbidden.”

“So is ‘henceforth’. This is not Shakespeare-land, yo.” Mischa countered. He pulled Noel into a gentle kiss by the chin, their lips pressing together lightly as Mischa’s hand set upon Noel’s shoulder.

“Henceforth is an actual word, unlike YOLO.” Noel smirked as he pulled away. “Now where’s the hoodie you oh so desperately needed to bring me?”

Mischa handed it to him. “Sorry, it probably smells like me now.”

Noel pressed it to his nose and made a show of taking a big whiff. “Mhm~”

Mischa laughed. The two of them talked for almost an hour, just like they always managed to do. However after a while it became clear that something was off.

“Poet, you seem tired.” Mischa pointed out in a town of fake nonchalence. Internally, he was panicking. Was something up?

“I’ve been up for a while, yeah.” He held out the paper he was scribbling on. “Can’t get this how I want it.”

“Let me see.” Mischa insisted. He scribbled another word in big letters before proudly showing Noel.

“Mischa, this just says ‘spicy noodles’ in big letters.” Noel did not seem impressed.

Mischa shrugged. “I am hungry.”

“You just ate an entire bag of Cheetos.”

“And?”

“Mischa, you have the appetite of a black hole.”

Noel got back to work, stifling a yawn as his candles developed gutters deep enough to drown a rat. Mischa watched idly as his boyfriend tossed away paper after paper after paper.

“Want more help, Noel?” He teased, hovering over the shorter’s shoulder. Noel slapped him away as if he were swatting at a pesky fly.

“You are less than help. Negative help.” Noel hissed, “If you’re so hungry, go make something to eat. There’s a jar of peanut butter, slap together a sandwich or something.”

“I’d rather just watch you, beautiful.” He admitted, watching Noel’s face flush through the vanity mirror.

“Shut up…”

“Don’t think I will. But, Noel? It’s getting late. You should be in bed, yo. Sleeping.” He pointed at the bed for emphasis, or just in case Noel didn’t know what a bed was.

Noel sighed sleepily. “I know, I know.”

“Maybe sleep will make your brain juice run better.” Mischa suggested, poetic as ever. It was clear he was not taking no for an answer. He scooped Noel up into his arms, leaving Noel a flustered gay mess, and placed him on the bed, tucking his body around Noel’s like a mother cat would around her kitten.

“Mischaaaaaaa~” Noel whined. “I can stay up!” But he clearly didn’t mean it. His eyelids were already growing heavy with sleep. Mischa moved slightly so he was holding Noel closer, feeling his poet’s soft breath on his collarbone as Noel tucked his pretty little face into the crook of Mischa’s neck.

Mischa stroked Noel’s silky dark hair. “Sweet dreams, poet. I know you will find the right words. You always do.”

[nakedbibi333]

HEYY so this is a wake up call, WAKE UP EVERYONE THERE IS NO TIME TO WASTE NO TIME FOR DOUBTS JUST MANIFEST BABES, SIMPLY AFFIRM AND PERSIST AND LIVE IN THE END!!!! before stumbling upon loa i came across law of attraction first and i manifested a lot. Here are some of the things i remember:

1. desired college (twice)

2. desired grades (many times) (this one time i did so bad and i just knew i couldn’t fail because i’d have to repeat a year but nope i didn’t🧿)

3. desired phone (twice)

4. desired laptop

5. money when i was in need lol

6. desired situations (many times)

7. desired hair

8. desired gifts

9. parents make more $$$

10. resolved family fights through vetala’s family sub countless times

now i did all this by scripting, I LOVE SCRIPTING and whenever fear crept my mind i kicked that thought out and replaced it with what i wanted to happen. If only i knew about loa when i was younger cause my confidence then was unshakable but now as i grew older this word logic came up a lot but if there’s one thing i know in my heart and soul, even with doubt when push comes to shove i just close my eyes and repeat my affirmations over and over again when i’m on a time crunch like instantly when i want things to be in my favour i say i’m peace i’m love i’m the creator and the feeling i get as i affirm puts me in ease, because at that moment i know nothing should stress me out because it all works out and spoiler alert: it does, always. Now i have sabotaged myself a couple of times when i think against my desires and IT HAS ENDED UP HAPPENING so please know, thoughts are everything, always think positively. I have heard thoughts manifest into sickness and other shitty things. I have seen enough to know that loa is as real as you and i. but i’ll be honest i haven’t manifested my dream life yet and truth be told it’s because i’m lazy and want it to be “effortless” i just want it to be like a switch which is why i want to get into the void. I have tried multiple times and i have gotten so close but this one time i was so close i was floating but then my foot just twitched out of nowhere and i wasn’t floating anymore. Because i got there I KNOW THE VOID IS REAL, i know what i felt and it was all in place for me to get my “the” success story fr fr, people who meditate talk about this state all the time, and let’s be real, do you really think all these success stories you’re coming across are fake?? c’mon babes that’s just too much, you’re either a hater or you don’t believe in yourself, you’re scared (been there) orrrr you’re just too caught up with something called logic (i don’t blame you, i was there too) but this is as real as it gets guys, magic is real but you can’t see it daily, can you? many things are real even when you can’t see it and that’s the beauty of it. I could come up with more examples but no magic is my fav unseen thing to talk about so moving on. now i thought i would only type this when i would get my void success story and just log off. i’d just come back once in a while to see all the cool things people have been manifesting but i’m typing this here now because i don’t agree with scammy when it comes to the void, cause that was so much bs and also this another blogger who kept saying she’d go to the void but kept delaying it (i don’t blame her i just want people to wake up realise the only thing they need to manifest their dream life is their own self THAT IS ALL) you all deserve to live your desired lives, no drama babes. I AM CALLING MYSELF TF OUT HERE, GIRL STOP GOING TO SLEEP AND STOP THINKING ABOUT RANDOM PEOPLE WHEN YOU ARE TRYING TO GET INTO THE VOID, THEY ARE NOT THINKING ABOUT YOU, YOU OWE YOURSELF YOUR DREAM LIFE, STOP SAYING TOMORROW IS THE DAY IT’S NOW, NOW!!!!!!! i don’t care how tired you are tonight, it’s a meditative state and you’re going in. THAT IS IT. YOUR LIFE CHANGES FOREVER AND IT IS NOTHING LESS THAN A DREAM. Whenever i come across a success story especially a void success story i get so happy because i know that’s going to be me soon and it’s well deserved. I have talked to someone who manifested her dream body in just 20 minutes by listening to slade’s shifting sub, just affirmed and meditated. That’s all. Please don’t complicate it. It’s so simple. Also, i don’t want to hear any void slander at all, i understand if it’s not your cup of tea but i want to experience it and if i have a desire, it’s meant to be fulfilled. PERIOD. I hope this gets to as many people as possible. I want to see all of y’all win!!!! I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE MY FEED WITH JUST SUCCESS STORIES, no questions, no doubts, NADA!!!!!!! only congratulations and i’m so happy for you❤️‍🩹 GO GET IT!!!!!! because i don’t want to spill my real name and i don’t want to use emojis lol can i be ami🤭sending to 5 bloggers

So happy for you, Ami !!! <333

[messymortician]

Lars Lindstrom Headcanons

Description: My take on what it would be like to date Lars :)

Content warnings: Pure fluff

Word count: 707

A/N: I honestly had sm fun thinking of these, and mostly daydreaming instead of typing. Also, feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy! <333

SFW: random

- Smells like coffee and mint. So many times throughout the day, you find yourself nudging closer to Lars just to breathe him in. It seems like you can never get enough of it. The smell comforts you and makes you feel warm, at home.

- Loves his cherry chapstick (so do you).

- Favorite color is purple, but he DID NOT tell you that.

- Always snacking on butterscotch and caramel candies, so you know what that means..

- Nearly addicted to his phone when he finally gets one. He spends hours going through ringtones and picking a special one for everyone in his life. Of course, he helps you with all of your ringtones, even though it doesn’t help you remember who is calling. You as his wallpaper <3

- Is basically a human furnace. At first, you insisted on having your heated blanket in the bed, but you quickly discover that he runs on the warm (actually very hot) side. More often than not, he clings to you while he sleeps, his hair slicked back with sweat around his temples. You can never find it in your heart to peel him off or even push him away, even when you're dripping sweat yourself.

- Always wants to be close to you, if not actually touching you. His favorite physical affection is holding hands, but forehead kisses are a close second.

- Insists on having an orange for breakfast every morning and always offers you a slice. Sometimes you accept his offer; it depends on if you've brushed your teeth or not.

- Sweetheart this and sweetheart that. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, you completely warmed his heart, taking up any and every empty corner in him. Hence, his favorite pet name. Nothing will ever come close to it, but every once in a while he'll call you baby, if he finds it appropriate.

Baby:

- Always so gentle when holding Elinor (Gus and Karin's baby.) He's beyond scared at first and you have to help him, but he catches on soon enough.

- Absolutely loves to feed her and he'll do just about anything to make her giggle. His favorite thing is when she starts cooing.

- Panics and turns red in the face at any signs of fussing, usually followed by, "Gus! Guys, please help!"

- Jumps at the opportunity to babysit and is always trying to send Gus and Karin on impromptu date nights. "Hey, Gus! The pizza shop in town is running a really good deal tonight, you guys should just go out tonight. Don't worry about Elinor, 'cause we already have our own plans."

- Over the period of a few months, he begins warming up to the idea of childbirth and having kids in general. It only takes a few failed shopping trips for you to understand what exactly Lars is trying to hint at. "Wow, these little gloves are like..so small. They must be for a baby, right? Babies are so nice, aren't they?"

Christmas:

- Practically begs for a puppy for Christmas, even though "Cats are my favorite animal. They're so soft..."

- Super cold and snowy on Christmas morning so he offers his sweater when you go to open presents with Gus, Karin, and the baby.

- Cries when he finally gets to the last box and sure enough, a little golden retriever puppy sticks his head out

- Karin invites you into the kitchen to help prep dinner, but it's mostly just you watching her and cutting up a few vegetables here and there.

- Meanwhile, Gus tries to focus on building Elinor's toys but his attempts are futile. "Gus, Gus! Look at this," Lars smiles as he throws a miniature tennis ball, the energetic puppy chasing after it.

- Holds that damn puppy and carries him everywhere you go- yes, even into the grocery store.

- "Hey, Lars, that thing is gonna forget how to walk if you don't put it down."

- "Gus, if you want to hold Henry then just ask," followed by an eyeroll from Gus.

- You can't help but encourage the babying, so you buy him and Henry matching sweaters (of course).

[dragonmuse]

In the latest little snippet with Eddy and Lucius you mentioned Lucius’ sometimes sketchy Grindr dates, and it got me thinking. What does Izzy think of those once they get closer? He always seems like he wants to run a background check on anyone who stays still long enough. Has Lucius ever had a Grindr date that was just too sketchy?

(this got combined with anon asking if Izzy is demisexual in the mainverse and a very old ask about how Izzy reacted to Lucius' 'ethical slut' speech which never appeared 'on stage' )

The fourth time they spent the night together, Lucius got a look on his face in the morning that Izzy was already beginning to recognize. Brow furrowed, lips slightly pursed. The beginning of a thought that was yet to be sneezed out fully grown. 

He didn’t yet know how to tease them loose or when to let them go without comment. Instead, he just watched him warily even as he made the man breakfast. 

“Listen,” came the pronouncement as Izzy was buttering toast. “I’m not sure I’ve been clear about this yet, but you made a comment about condoms last night, so I want to be crystal on this.” 

Izzy’s knife paused in its motion. Was this how it ended? 

“On what?” He asked, forcing himself to resume. 

“I don’t just have Pete, I hook up a lot. It’s practically a hobby.” 

Izzy put the butter back in the fridge, trying to buy time. What did that mean? Why was he even being told this? Why the fuck was his life slowly turning over like a snowglobe, everything  suddenly full of glitter and unfamiliar? 

“Okay,” he settled on when he turned back. 

“So when I say we use condoms, it’s because I’m fucking often enough that I could be an actual danger to you, got it?” 

Izzy picked up his toast and gave a short nod. “Got it.” 

Lucius studied him, took a bit of his own piece and chewed through it.  “You have any questions about that?” 

“Pete care?” 

“He doesn’t indulge, but he’s into it,” Lucius shrugged. 

And if Pete didn’t care, Pete who had far more right to Lucius than Izzy’s paltry handful of nights, what the fuck was he supposed to say?   

Jealousy hadn’t done him much good so far. 

“Is that safe?”

Lucius barked a laugh, “Absolutely not. Most fun things aren’t.” 

“Yeah.” He was old friends with the rush of adrenaline. 

“I always tell someone where I’m going,” Lucius said a little more seriously. “Usually Pete. Address, phone number, name of the guy or at least the one he provides. The guy knows that. I’m not taking unnecessary leaps.” 

“Your business, not mine,” Izzy grunted and they finished breakfast without much more talking. Lucius sayed a few more minutes, then left with a jaunty wave and a promise to be there again next Tuesday. 

He washed both their plates. It took a long time. 

Seven Months Later  

Lucius' phone chirped and he plucked it up from the counter. Then set it back down, wiped his fingers on a napkin, displacing syrup, then picked it up again. Izzy watched his expression shift from neutral and sleepy to pleased and attentive in seconds. He typed back quickly and then set the phone back down with clear satisfaction. 

“Sell something?” Izzy guessed. 

“I wish. Could use a little extra cash this month, but no. There’s this guy I hook up with every time he’s here on business and he’s swinging back in tonight. It’s been a while.” 

Izzy stabbed a bit of pancake and shoved it into his mouth so he didn’t say something that would put an end to the congenial morning they were having. He never knew how to react to Lucius saying those things. It didn’t seem to be a test, but somehow, Izzy always felt like he failed at them anyway. 

“You look like you’re trying to use your mind powers to fry him to ash,” Lucius said, amused. 

“What do you want me to say?” He asked and instead of angry, it came out a little pleading. 

“Do you want me to not talk about them? I could just do that,” Lucius frowned. “I know you’re not comfortable about it, but it is a part of my life.” 

Would it be better or worse not knowing? Having an entire door firmly sealed shut? 

“I can hear about it. Just....don’t know how to respond.” 

“Say ‘cool, happy fucking’  or you know, just ‘okay’. That’s all right too.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, goblin. I can take you being slightly checked out over my hook ups. Or not wanting to hear about them at all. As long as you’re still okay with how things are,” Lucius’ brow started to furrow. 

“It’s fine, pup,” he said quickly. 

“Okay, then.” 

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything like ‘happy fucking’. It sounded about as likely out of his mouth as him taking up knitting. But when Lucius got ready to leave, he did say, very quietly, 

“Be safe.” 

“Always am,” Lucius leaned in and kissed him once, very softly. “But thanks.” 

That became the ritual as far as Izzy could say they had one. If Lucius mentioned going out with someone or heading to a club, he’d ask for him to be safe and Lucius would accept it with good grace. 

Izzy fought down urges that had ruined him in the past. He talked to Donna. He didn’t get in his car. He didn’t go looking. He set down his mental binoculars and forced himself to breath through it. It was Lucius’ life, his body, his choices. Izzy just had be glad that he was one of the people, who got to share in it. 

A Further Six Months Later  

“Getting up at some point today?” Izzy asked as he came into the bedroom to change. 

Lucius was awake, but stretched under the covers, laying on his stomach as he read his book. His hair was a disaster, and there was a stray spot of glitter on his forehead that caught the lamp light. 

“Maybe,” he grinned without looking up from the page. “You’ll just have to go to work and imagine me living my best life in your bed all day.  Reading, jerking off. Eating.” 

“Do not fucking eat in my bed,” Izzy groaned as he pulled out a pair of jeans. He had to look casual today. Staking out a cheap motel in a vest and button up would catch attention. 

“You won’t be here to stop me. By the time you discover my crimes, I’ll be long gone.” 

“I know where you live,” Izzy pointed out. “And you’ll show back up here eventually.” 

“Yeah, true,” setting down his book, Lucius turned onto this side to watch him. “Some of my favorite things are here.” 

Izzy didn’t touch the cuff, but it was a close call. It was still new enough that he was sometimes acutely aware of it. In some moments, like just now, it was as if Lucius’ fingers were circling his wrist, tugging playfully. 

“The coffee machine?” 

“That’s one of them. Hey, is your stuff today going to take you out of the city?” 

“Shouldn’t. Just a sit and stare uptown.”

“Okay cool,” Lucius snagged his phone. “I’m going clubbing with this guy I met at the bar last night. Should be fun. Going to send you his details though, just in case. Pete is going out with some friends tonight too, probably won’t be home until tomorrow afternoon.”

Izzy nodded, concentrating on getting clothes on his body,  “Yeah fine.” 

“Great, thanks!” 

When his phone vibrated in his pocket as he went out the door, he pulled it out, just to see. Lucius had sent him a name, a phone number, an address and then a text: 

Lucius: I’m not hiring a private dick. This is just for my boyfriend, detective. 

Izzy: understood 

It was trust, Izzy knew. A tentative attempt on Lucius’ part. Not a test. He was firmer on that now. If there had ever been testing, the time for that was in the past. Lucius knew that Izzy needed a clear direction. He wasn’t allowed to go digging. This was for security of only the most tenuous, pedestrian kind. 

Yet he felt entrusted with something important.  He walked with his head a little higher that day. And if he was tempted to run down a background check, that was his own demon to wrestle with. He didn’t give in to it.  He didn’t even do a cursory google. Lucius could do his own research.  If he made a mistake, then Izzy was now the one on the other end of the phone. He could go in and help fix things. 

A rope had been thrown and caught, another tie binding them carefully together. 

And yet another six months after that....

“What a smokeshow,” Lucius’ gaze was not on the new sketchbook that they had ostensibly come out to buy, but on some point much further down the aisle. 

“What?” Izzy followed the look. There was a guy about fifty feet away, studying the paints. Medium height, broad at the shoulder, deep skin and a handsome enough face. 

“Mm. Surprised me. Usually it’s all the weekend crafters in here, this time of day,” Lucius’ focus returned to the paper. “Guess you never know when you’re going to run across a good looking man.” 

“If I wasn’t here, would you flirt with him?” Izzy asked idly. They had had a long session that morning and he was still only tenuously connecting with reality. 

“Uh, maybe?” Lucius shrugged. “I’ve found people in less welcoming locations, but hard to tell if he’s interested.” 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s not sex-focused location-” 

“I meant why would you hit on him?” 

“He’s good looking? Not sure what you’re asking.” 

“I’m not sure either,” Izzy admitted, and went quiet while Lucius took his time perusing his options. 

“This one is so cute, but I never use the small paper. I always think I will and then I find them at the bottom of the drawer two years later.” 

“Yeah....okay, no I think I know why I’m asking,” Izzy decided. 

“Hm?” Lucius glanced up. “Oh right, okay. Lay it on me.” 

“I don’t have that.” 

“Don’t have what?” 

“At the wedding, Eddy was pointing out that people in the room were hot and I got it, once she mentioned it, but I don’t. Notice people that way.” 

“Huh,” Lucius’ thumb ran over the edges of the paper, slowly considering flicker. “But you find people attractive.” 

“Yeah? Yes. But not a lot of people.” 

“You’re picky, no surprise there.” 

“But I don’t...notice? Am I supposed to be noticing?” 

Lucius set down the pad entirely. “There’s no supposed to be, you know that by now.” 

“When you say someone is hot, what does that mean?” Izzy was enjoying a mildly numb sensation that buoyed him through. Because that question sounded very very stupid once he’d articulated it. 

“For me it means I see them and I think they’re someone I want to touch. I like their body,” Lucius seemed to just take the question on it’s face, at least. “Sometimes it’s literal, like I get flushed and kind of tingly or warm. Hot.” 

“It’s literal?” 

“Where’d you think the word came from?” Lucius’ eyebrows went up. “Not for you?” 

“I get the feeling. For you. For Eddy once. For a few people in between. But not just some guy I see in a store or in a club or an app. I need more than a picture.” 

“You know that actually makes a lot of sense,” Lucius picked up the first pad he’d looked at when they came in. “I’ll get this one. Come on.” 

“Does it?” Izzy followed him, bewildered. 

“Yeah, I always wondered how you’d had such a long dryspell, but maybe that’s how you’re wired. If I went that long without sex...I dunno. I think the longest I’ve gone without since I met Pete is a week and that’s because I had the flu, then he had it. Then I met you and now it’s even more consistent.” 

“I like that. The consistency,” Izzy said quickly. 

“Yeah, goblin, I’d noticed,” Lucius winked at him. “I think I know what you’re getting at though.” 

“Good. Cause I’m not sure.” 

“Let’s check out and then we can talk about when we get back to yours.” 

“Yes, pup.” 

The line was fairly long and it was nice not to talk about private things while standing next to a family of five. The walk home wasn’t long and soon enough they were back at the island in the kitchen, sharing a bowl of popcorn. 

“Okay,” Lucius took a sip of water between bites. “So. I think maybe it’s a vocab thing.” 

“You’ve got words for fucking everything,” Izzy mock sighed. 

“Yeah, and they do a body good, so listen,” Lucius tossed a kernel at him. Izzy caught it between his teeth. “Nice trick.” 

He curled his tongue around and pulled it into his mouth. Lucius grinned wider. “Very nice.” 

“Thanks.” 

“All right. So, hey sexuality continues to be a spectrum.” 

“Got that part.” 

“One of those spectrums is allosexual to asexual.” 

Izzy nodded, “Heard that one.” 

“You know what it means?” 

“Hates having sex.” 

“Uh, too specific, but yeah you can start from there. Some asexual people hate it, some are neutral. Some might have it and even enjoy it. And some people might be demisexual.” 

He took another piece of popcorn and just waited, Lucius was warming to something, 

“Demisexuals are people that only want to have sex when they form an emotional connection first. And you know, if you might happen to be someone who struggled with forming emotional connections....”

Izzy ate the popcorn. He stared into space, then rubbed at his forehead with the heel of his palm, 

“Does this ever fucking end?” 

“Figuring yourself out? Not that I know of,” Lucius said, not without sympathy. 

“What’d you call it again?” 

“Demisexual.” 

“Sounds made up.” 

“All words sound made up if you think about them too hard. Anyway, they all were at some point.” 

“Demisexual,” Izzy heaved a sigh. “Fine. Yeah, that fucking too, I guess. But I didn’t really know you when we started up.” 

“No, but I think we had a connection,”Lucius said flippantly. 

A hand flattened to his chest in an alley. The certainty that he was being read like a book. A certainty that had never been shaken, even now. 

“Guess we did.” 

“So wait, what did you think other people were experiencing all this time?” 

“Didn’t think about it much. Assumed if I had any fucking urges like that, they’d run their course or I’d pushed them too deep to hear them. Figured I was just more disciplined or something,” he admitted. 

“Of course you did,” Lucius snorted. “Well, surprise. Some of us are just hornier than you.” 

“It explains a lot,” he allowed. 

“Really does. Your masturbation fantasies alone.” 

“No,” Izzy said firmly. “I can only take so many goddamn epiphanies in one day. Have mercy.” 

“All right, all right,” Lucius grinned. “But it’s good, you know that, right?” 

Izzy took a sip of water, watched Lucius over the rim. 

Lucius was gorgeous. Looking at him made Izzy want things. Sometimes it made his palms itch to touch, his lips tingle for a kiss. When he looked at Lucius, he wanted.  He was glad that that wasn’t true of a random guy in the craft store. 

And in a way, he was glad that Lucius did.  There was something consoling and safe that no matter who Lucius found attractive, who he slept with, he came back here regular as clockwork to love Izzy. 

“Yeah,” he smiled at him. “It is good.” 

[urfavfakeblonde]

ᵃʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵗᵒᵒ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰⁱˢ?

BauReader!~ femReader! x Criminal Minds Cast

Warnings: Attempted SA, Torture, Panic Attack, Guns, Violence, Derek being the baddie that he is <3

I sigh, setting down my bag on the kitchen counter, staring into the darkness of my living room. I rub my eyes, as if they would open and suddenly have night vison. Unfortunately, they failed the task as my hand searches up the wall for the light switch in my hallway. I feel it, only to find the lights don't turn on. Great, no power.

I curse under my breath and take a deep breath, slipping my shoes from my feet and onto the hallway floor. My feet patter along as I make my way to my room, acuminated by the city lights. I fall into bed, unable to shed my clothes and take a shower.

My phone pings and I groan, lifting my head up and grabbing my phone.

Made it home safe? - Garcia

yeah, but my power is out

so annoying - I type slowly, flipping my phone over and sitting on the edge of my bed. As I look up and down the hallway, I see a figure standing in my doorway. My breath hitches in my throat and I open my drawer to get my gun, feeling around to find it missing. The figure laughed and swung my gun around. Great. I continued to stare at him, flashes in my mind of victims that I see every week, their bodies, families --

I snap out of my trance as he comes closer aiming the gun at my head. "Who are you?" I whisper, eyes staring into his glossy ones. He just tilts his head a smiles.

"You know." He states simply, nudging the gun under my chin, forcing me to look at him. I move my head away, only to cry out from the force of the gun against my cheek. I feel blood begin to trickle like a tear down my face, and on to my shirt. I spit some of the blood out from my mouth before he grabs me a pins me down, shoving the gun to the side of my head. "How do you sleep at night, knowing someone like ME is out there?" he taunts mincingly. "All those 'victims' you say, on the board in your office waiting for you to find their killer, and you come home and sleep?" He whispers in my ear.

While he speaks, he slowly stands up and pulls his belt off. "Lay down on the bed, hands in the air, now." He sternly requests. I sniffle and slowly do what he asks, my legs dangling off the edge of the bed, hands in the air, together. He sets his gun down and ties is belt around my hands before quickly taking his gun and pointing it at me. He moves my body, so I am laying in the middle of the bed before he takes a belt from my drawer and ties my already clasped hands to the bar of my bed. My head began to spin, the images quickly coming back to me of the victims I've seen. I take a breath as he slips my pants off and crawls on top of me, leaving me in my socks, underwear, bra and white blouse stained with blood. He slowly started unbuttoning my shirt and I felt a tear roll down my cheek as I looked into his eyes to try and get anything out of him. He was rambling about something for a while, shoving the gun in my face every so often. Eventually, I looked around the room and saw Hotch standing in the doorway with his finger to his lips. I looked back at the man on top of me as he spoke, gun to my temple. "Wonder what Agent Hotchner will think when he gets a call tonight about a dead FBI agent," he laughs pressing the gun into my head enough to make me turn to the side. I groan as he touches the gash in my cheek, but he just smiles. "What a pity." He throws his gun onto the bed to take his pants off, but Derek tackles him off the bed, and Hotch takes the gun, giving it to Rossi. I breath heavy as I look at Derek cuffing the man up. Emily comes in and puts her gun back in her holster as she quickly walks over to me and starts taking the belts off.

"Hey, you okay?" She asks concerned. I just stare ahead and let the tears run down my face. Spencer is quick to help as he helps me sit up. A medical team rushes in and sets a kit down on the bed. My ears are ringing, and I see concerned faces asking me questions that I can't understand. Suddenly a woman turns my face slowly and shines a flashlight in my eyes that make me flinch and turn away. She takes my blood pressure and holds two fingers up. Emily is saying something, but I can't hear her. I start breathing extremely quickly, completely overwhelmed by the situation. A medic is trying to get me to calm down but I start shaking uncontrollably as my eyes dart around the room. I feel a strong pair of hands on my arms as they turn my body slightly. They are comforting as my glossy eyes stare into Hotches. "Breath L/n, breath," he says with a look of concern in his eyes. Tears slip down my cheek as I lean forward and hug him, crying over his shoulder. I felt safe in his arms, safe from everything.

[mackenzielovee]

sixth sense: part six

synopsis: "You figure you might not be satisfied until you can read his mind; see every thought, every memory, and know every single one of his favorites things."

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, brief mention/description of anxiety attack, kissing, tiny sexual innuendos, allusions to domestic violence.

wc: 6k

a/n: hi<3 sorry this took so long but i hope you enjoy regardless! leave me some words and let me know <3 xo

series masterlist

     You wake early on Saturday with the promise of seeing Rafe today. Not just seeing him, because it’s never been that simple with the two of you. Getting to experience him. On a date. With you. Alone. 

The thought itself seems to drive you crazy enough that, at ten in the morning, you’re exfoliating and shaving every inch of your skin in the shower. Not so much for Rafe, but as a distraction from sitting around, overthinking what might happen tonight or how things could go wrong. You wash your hair and try to think about something – anything – but tonight. But him. 

You fail. The second you climb out of the shower, wet hair sticking to your neck and shoulders, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You draw back when, for a split second, you don’t recognize yourself. This girl looks happy and healthy; like she’s eating proper meals again and smiling more. 

You know it’s because of him, even if you refuse to admit that to yourself. 

     You make lunch and then move back into the bathroom to dry your hair and straighten it, only to spend the remainder of the day picking out the perfect outfit for tonight. You want it to be classy, but not too done up. Nice, but not like you’re trying too hard. 

Rafe had texted you last night and told you he’d pick you up at six and asked for your address, but given no information on what the two of you would be doing or what you should wear. Too excited to wait and too nervous to guess, you dial his number.

His line rings four times, and each ring makes you more anxious than the last. Your mind wanders before you can stop it, and you’re sure if he doesn’t pick up, you’ll spiral. 

What if he’s blowing you off?

He’s probably staring right at his phone right now, ignoring you. 

What if he changed his mind?

What if he realized I’m not good enough for him?

When the line clicks and you hear shuffling on the other end, you let out the breath you’d been holding in. The relief only lasts for a few seconds, because the voice that comes through the phone isn’t his. 

“Rafe’s phone.”

Your heart stops in your chest at the tone in Lindsay’s voice – playful, sneering, and triumphant – and you swallow down the words you’d been planning to say. 

“Um,” you stutter, taking a breath as you try to collect yourself, “Is he there?”

“He’s in the shower, actually,” she says, “But I can pass a message along to him if you’d like.”

You’re sure she’d love that. 

Your mouth suddenly feels too dry, your hair feels too straight, your legs feel too shaved. You’d spent the entire day wanting everything to be perfect for tonight – only to come to find out Rafe Cameron spent the day with Lindsay. And now he’s in the shower. Your stomach constricts with your throat, leaving you to croak out a response. 

“I–” you clear your throat, shoving your tears back, “Something came up. I’m not free tonight. Let him know.”

You swear she snickers into the phone. You don’t care. Every nerve in your body is screaming at you, telling you how stupid you are for this. For being excited. For thinking that a man could ever be interested enough in you to not want others. 

Campbell had been the same way. You were to be his, but he shared himself with other women. Now, you’d gone and gotten involved with the same type of man. You’re his, but that doesn’t necessarily make him yours. 

“I will,” she replies smoothly, “Who is this, by the way?”  

Your throat closes, “He doesn’t have my number saved?”

You whisper it more to yourself than to her, but she laughs all the same. As if it’s funny. As if Rafe Cameron taking you out is nothing more than a joke to her, because he can’t possibly be interested in you. 

“Oh, Y/N, right,” she replies, “Were you guys gonna study or something?”

Your eyes flutter closed and your body runs numb; self preservation seems to kick into high gear as you realize you have to get off the phone now. 

“Yeah,” you lie easily, demanding your tears stay back, “Yeah. We were. But I can’t now.”

Lindsay faux pouts into the phone, “What a shame. Thanks for calling.”

     Five fifty rolls around before you even notice it. You’ve been frozen on your couch; unable to cry, scream, or sob. You just feel numb. Trying to make sense of it seems an impossible task, because you don’t know why Lindsay was there. But the thought of being the stupid girl again has you reliving every moment of your relationship with Campbell. You will not go back to that person. You’re different now — you deserve to be different. 

A knock on your apartment door draws you out of biting your nails off, and against your better judgment, you swear you know it’s him. You can feel it when he gets close to you. That blanket of safety and comfort seems to wrap itself around you in a way you could never understand. Reluctantly, you stand, knowing he won’t go away until you tell him to, and take a deep breath before you open the door. 

The first thing you see are his eyes. They draw you in every single time, shining bright blue and always landing on you. The second thing you notice is his grin. That wide, happy smile that he always has on his face. It’s when your eyes meet the bouquet of tulips in his hand, held ever so gently with the promise of giving them to you without damage on the way over here, that your heart melts. 

You’ve had it all wrong, you suddenly realize. He’s here, now, with flowers, and that fucking grin. He’s here, now, when Campbell would’ve been two hours late with lipstick on his collar. He’s here, now, looking at you like that, and you realize just how wrong you are. 

He’s not anything like Campbell. In fact, he’s so different that you’re sure, in that moment, that nobody else on this planet could earn your trust the way he has. 

“Hi,” he speaks, a hint of shyness in his voice, “You look—”

“I’m not ready yet,” you blurt, then backtrack, “Also, hi.”

“Hi,” he repeats with a laugh. 

“Um, come in,” you step aside and hold the door open for him, swallowing at the sight of Rafe Cameron entering your space. Your safe person entering your safe space. It makes you smile. 

“These are for you,” he smiles, holding the bouquet out.

You bite your lip to hide a smile, but it doesn’t stop your body’s physical reaction. Your hands tremble slightly as you take the flowers from him; suddenly nervous of how you must come off to him. 

You stand in, what you realize, is his tee shirt and leggings. He anxiously tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he eyes you up and down, taking you in completely. You can barely stand to take the rest of him in, because that crisp, long sleeve, white button up he has deliciously tucked into his jeans has your mouth running dry. 

“Thank you, Rafe,” you practically whisper, “They’re beautiful.”

“So are you.”

His words hit you right where Lindsay’s had earlier; healing up the wound and making you smile. He glances around and seems to be taking in your home, so you nod for him to follow you into your kitchen. 

“It’s not much,” you admit, “But it’s enough for now.”

“It looks like plenty,” he says with an encouraging nod.

You give him a thankful smile back, then look down at your clothes. You’re aware of your lack of makeup, your current outfit, and the way he seems so unfazed by the entire thing. He’d shown up here like you’d never called; like you’d never tried to cancel in the first place. It seems entirely too unlike him to not even address it. 

“I’m sorry I’m not ready,” you say, “Did you not get my message?”

His brows furrow into an expression that looks equal parts confusion and panic. With a slight shake of his head, he pulls his phone out of his back pocket. 

“You texted?” he asks, “I thought I checked—”

“Must not have sent,” you say quickly, waving him off.

He doesn’t look entirely convinced, but you don’t wait for him to look further into it. Instead, you decide to trust the situation based purely off of face value, and smile it away. You turn from him to fill a vase with water, then unwrap the flowers and place them neatly into it. 

“What did it say?”

You smile to hide your grimace and shake your head, doing your best to act nonchalant. 

“Just that I was running late. Can you give me, like, ten minutes?”

He visibly relaxes and nods his head, “I’ll give you as long as you need.”

Your heart swells in your chest purely by the way he’s looking at you. The vase rests on the counter and you leave it there, then step around to where he stands. His hands are still in his pockets, and you notice for the first time that he left his hair unstyled and messy. You’re sure it wasn’t accidental; you’re sure it’s for you. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. 

You watch him swallow, anxious at your proximity. His words ring through your head, and even though a kiss from him would work wonders for you right now, you settle on pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

When you pull back, you note how his cheeks and his ears have gone pink, making you smile wide. He laughs before he can help himself, then nods his head in the direction of your room. 

“You better scram before I take back my declaration,” he teases. 

You giggle and hurry toward your room, purposely leaving the door open a few inches just in case. You glance out every few seconds and see him as he takes a seat on your couch and looks around, and before you can help it, you squeal and hurry into your bathroom to do a quick bit of makeup. 

     Using Rafe’s outfit to gauge your own, you settle on a sundress and bring a sweater just in case, and with one last look in the mirror, you take a deep breath and emerge from your room. He’s still on the couch, staring at his phone screen, and when he senses your movement, his eyes dart to you. 

“Holy–” he mutters, then stops himself and stands, “Wow. I didn’t think it could get better than my shirt, but here we are.”

You laugh, “Not as comfortable as your shirt, but it’ll do.”

He smiles and takes a step forward, reaching for your hand. You give it to him and let him pull you in, his other hand resting on the small of your back. 

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs, “Out of my league for sure.”

“Shut up,” you shake your head, but your beating heart and shaky hands give you away. 

He grins and his lips meet your forehead in a soft, gentle kiss. You tip your head up, as if daring him to kiss you for real, and listen as he laughs lowly. 

“Don’t tempt me,” he mutters. 

You giggle, “Just one.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t think I could stop after just one.”

“Try,” you dare. 

He chuckles and takes one step back, leaving his hand in yours. You watch his eyes scan over you, demanding to memorize every single inch of you. As they travel back up, his expression changes slightly. When his eyes meet yours, you can tell there’s something on his mind. 

“So,” he exhales, “Why don’t you tell me about the phone call you and I had this afternoon? The one that lasted two minutes and thirty seven seconds. I seem to have forgotten what it is we talked about.”

Your heart sinks into your stomach. He checked, of course he checked. He’d never let anything you said go. You shake your head at yourself for thinking he would. 

“It was nothing,” you squeak. 

His jaw clenches at that, “Who answered my phone, Y/N?”

You sigh, knowing there’s no way out but the truth. His eyes scan your features, watching as you drop your gaze down to the floor. He squeezes your hand, as if trying to bring you back up to him, but you refuse. 

“Lindsay,” you mumble. 

He sighs and swears under his breath. You remain still, a part of you hoping he explains and another part of you hoping he doesn’t.

“You didn’t call me at four o’clock to tell me you were running late, did you?” 

You shake your head, “No.”

“You called for a different reason, then Lindsay picked up, and you tried to cancel on me, right? But she never told me. And then I show up here like an idiot—”

“Not like an idiot,” you protest immediately, looking back up at him, “I saw you and I just — I knew that it wasn’t like that. You told me to trust you, Rafe, and I do.”

You watch his throat bob as he swallows, “You do?”

“Yes,” you nod. 

He smiles at that, and you feel like you’ve won. His hand squeezes yours again, this time for a different reason. 

“Good,” he whispers, “Because Lindsay wasn’t in the house with me. She came over to see Topper. I left my phone downstairs by accident, and I guess she got a hold of it when you called. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you reply, letting out a breath of air, “I’m not mad.”

“It scared you, though,” he presses. 

You shake your head, not wanting to talk about it, then reach up with your free hand and cup his cheek. 

“How about that date you promised me?”

He grins, moving his head over in your hand so he can press a kiss to your palm. You smile at that, eyes never leaving his own. 

“Come on,” he says, tugging you closer to him by your hand. 

You follow his lead and let him guide you out of your apartment, not releasing your hand even when you have to lock up. As you walk down the hallway with him, listening to him tell you how he worried he’d knock on the wrong door — because how could you give him the right address? It would mean you actually wanted to go out with him — you think about how smitten you really are, and for once, you let your heart fall recklessly. Because if your odds are on anyone, it’s most definitely going to be Rafe Cameron. 

     The stars almost seem extra bright to you as you walk hand in hand through the streets, toward the restaurant Rafe insisted on showing you. You steal a glance up at him, hoping only for a peak at his features, to find a prideful smile gracing his lips. He catches your eye before you can look away, which only makes him laugh. 

“So,” you start, feeling your stomach twist in the way it only does when he’s around, “What is it about this place that’s so special?”

He sucks in a breath and nods, as if he expected you to ask this. You watch as he exhales then; his chest puffing out against the white button up and stretching the fabric — enough that you lose focus for a beat too long. 

Rafe laughs when he catches you, leading you to squeeze your eyes shut and pretend you hadn’t just been caught checking him out as he prepares to tell you something real. 

“I had a feeling that might come up,” he confesses, “But this is going so well. Let me tell you later.”

For one split second, you want to withdraw; analyze everything. What does that mean? What could his answer possibly be that could change this? Does he take all of his dates here? 

Then, when you glance up and see the way he softens his eyes, begging you to trust him the way you said you do, you relax. Your hand squeezes his and you nod, letting him lead you along the street. 

There aren’t too many people for a Saturday night, which surprises you. The air seems calm and you feel more than safe under Rafe’s watchful eye and firm grip. 

“Here we are,” he says softly, stopping you and nodding his head to your right. 

You take in the small, dimly lit restaurant; French doors exposing the inside to anyone who walks by. Candles are lit at every table, and everywhere you look, you see wine. Rafe presses himself against your back and releases your hand, placing his on your hip instead. Your body shivers at the way he makes every little motion so intimate, yet completely appropriate for a public setting. With his hands still on your hips, grip light, he leads you up toward the doors and reaches in front of you to pull it open. 

You walk through first, and even though you’re busy taking everything in, you notice when his hands fall from your body. Your eyes leave the extravagant glass chandelier above your head and turn back, watching Rafe slip through the door and give you a smile. 

“I’m here,” he promises you, watching you swallow and nod. 

As if to prove it, his hand meets the small of your back; his fingertips brush back and forth just enough to soothe you and assure you that he’s there. That he always will be.

You draw closer to him out of instinct as he steps forward, his voice deep and low as he tells the host his name and is met with a wide smile and a greeting. You can’t help but feel out of place, even slightly, as you glance around at the tables full of women who are used to this. 

You wonder how many of them are in the same position you used to be in; out for a night at a fancy place with a guy who doesn’t seem to care whether they’re alive or dead. How many of them smelled the perfume on him when he came to pick them up, but don’t say anything out of fear that he’ll lash out. 

“Hey,” Rafe murmurs, drawing you out of your head, “What’s going on up there?”

You loosen the tenseness in your stomach and turn to look up at him, smiling when you meet those familiar blue eyes. 

“Nothing,” you answer, “I’m just happy to be here with you.”

Even though you’re sure he doesn’t know what you mean exactly, the smile on his face is all the same to you. The host speaks instructions to follow him at the same moment Rafe’s lips meet your forehead, and when Rafe pulls back and turns you around to walk, pressing his hands to your hips the way you seem to love, you let out a blissful hum. 

You watch with a small smile as the host presents the table to you both. Rafe pulls out your chair for you, brushing his hands over your shoulders and leaning down to kiss the top of your head once you’re settled. Quickly, he steps across the table and takes his own seat, thanking the host as he passes. You’re handed a menu and listen as Rafe expertly orders a bottle of wine, relaxing in your seat when the host leaves the two of you to yourselves. 

“I was underage the last time I came here,” he confesses, “So, I have no idea if the wine is gonna be any good or not.”

You laugh and so does he. A part of you can’t believe how comfortable you feel on this first date, given nobody ever does. First dates are meant to be awkward and uncomfortable, but with Rafe, you don’t feel any of that. 

“So you’ve been coming here since you were young?” you ask. 

He nods, “I haven’t been back in a long time.”

You furrow your eyebrows and glance back at the host stand before you can help yourself, replaying the way he’d smiled at Rafe as if he was familiar somehow. 

“The host seemed like he knew you,” you reply. 

Rafe sits back in his seat, “He knew my last name. He knew my mom.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, and you instantly decide on no more questions. Instead, you set your menu down and reach for his hand, which he gives you with no hesitation. 

“Will you order for me?” you ask him. 

His grin returns, flooding relief through your body. You allow your thumb to stroke the top of his hand, which he watches with content. 

“Of course I will,” he replies, “I know just the thing.”

    You swear you must be drooling as you watch him ordering with expertise and taking care of you in ways you didn’t even know you needed. By the time your waiter leaves your table, wine and bread sitting between the two of you, you’re balancing your chin in your palm and are too busy admiring him to care about the way he laughs when he sees you. 

“What?” he questions, the slightest blush emerging on his cheeks. 

“Tell me about your sisters,” you demand softly. 

You shift your body under the table, your legs crossed over one another. You feel your sandal brush against his jeans only slightly, but you can tell he notices by the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. 

“Sarah’s a freshman at Duke,” he says, “She had a bad breakup and wanted to get away from the island for a bit. Wheezie’s in tenth grade. She wants to come to UNC. Even asked if I’d take an extra year of classes so I’d still be here when she starts out.”

You smile, “That’s so sweet.”

He grins and nods his head, “Yeah. I don’t see them as often as I’d like to, but it is what it is.”

“You’re a great older brother, I bet.”

He watches you pick up your wine glass and take a sip. He sucks in a breath and then clears his throat, tearing his eyes away from you as he picks up his own glass. You laugh lightly, watching as he tries to keep himself in check. 

“What about you?” he asks after he swallows, “Any siblings?”

“No,” you answer, “My parents somehow thought they got it right on the first try.”

He smiles, “They did.”

You sit back in your seat, rolling your eyes playfully at his remark. His grin widens at your reaction, and you feel your chest grow so tight that you grip your sweater in your lap as a lifeline. You swear you can feel it; you can feel yourself falling, deeper and faster and heavier, and there’s not a single part of you that wants to stop it. 

“All right,” he leans forward, tearing a piece of bread from the loaf in the basket and then gesturing for you to do the same, “This stuff is too good. You’ve got to try it while it’s still warm.”

You smile and sit up, copying his every movement. You tear off your own piece, then accept the butterknife he passes you after he’d buttered his own piece. 

He watches as you bite into it; as your eyes instantly close at the buttery, warm goodness that fills your mouth. He laughs through his own bite, drawing you out of your moment and laughing at yourself when you meet his eyes. 

“Wow,” you say, “That’s incredible.”

“Right?” he agrees, “It’s one of my favorite things about this place.”

You let out a laugh, “You were totally the kid who filled up on the bread and wasn’t hungry at all by the time his meal came.”

He feigns insult at that, “What gives you that impression?”

You grin and take another bite of bread, then wash it down with another sip of wine before you answer him.

“I was that kid, too,” you reply, watching him melt slowly, “I see it in you.”

He laughs once more, but you can tell by the way he looks at you that he’s pleased. When he leans forward, your foot brushes against his leg again, but you leave it there. That small point of contact proving to be enough for both of you at the moment. 

“In that case,” he whispers, “I’m having another piece.”

     Rafe ordered you Tagliatelle; a dish you’d never tried or heard of until it’s placed in front of you. He pours you more wine as you take your first bite, crumbling under the goodness of the pasta and releasing a content groan. 

He laughs lightly, “You like it?”

“Oh, my God,” you sigh, “You have to order for me everywhere, now. This is just, so—”

You shake your head, telling him you’re unable to find a word that will adequately suit how much you love what he’d gotten for you. 

“Everywhere?” he questions with a smirk, “You’ll let me take you out again?”

You lick your lips and sit up again, holding his gaze the entire time. 

“I’d love it, Rafe,” you reply. 

He smiles again — that smile that could get you to do just about anything — then glances down at his food. 

“Try mine,” he insists, already trying to construct the perfect bite for you. 

“We’ll switch,” you offer, “So you can try mine, too.”

He nods, and like experts, the two of you swap plates. He’d ordered Lobster Tagliolini for himself and watches you as you take only the noodles onto your fork. 

“You better take a piece of that lobster,” he demands. 

You laugh and do as you’re told. As soon as the food touches your tongue, you fall in love with his plate just as you fell in love with your own. He clearly feels the same way about yours, and soon, the two of you devise a plan to place half of each of your meals onto the other’s plate. 

Rafe questions you on your favorite album, and in turn, you ask him his. With much consideration, he tells you that it has to be Man on the Moon by Kid Cudi — specifically the first. You discuss your favorite foods, places you’ve traveled and want to travel to, books you’ve read, and classes you’ve taken. 

The table is cleared far before you feel satisfied with the amount you know about Rafe. You figure you might not be satisfied until you can read his mind; see every thought, every memory, and know every single one of his favorites things.

The bottle of wine is long empty by the time the waiter brings the check, but your intoxication feels as fresh as anything. Rafe takes the check smoothly, and before you can even reach for your bag, Rafe’s card is being placed and handed away again. 

“Rafe—” you move to protest, but he stops you. 

“You’re my date,” he replies simply.

You smile, requesting his hand in your once more. He gives it to you, as he always does, and brings your hand up to his lips to kiss. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, “For everything.”

“It’s completely my pleasure,” he replies. 

Once Rafe’s card is returned, he helps you up and leads you out of the restaurant. It’s cleared out significantly since you arrived, but you have no idea what time it is. Whenever you’re with Rafe, it always seems to go by faster than usual. 

Once you’re back out on the street, your hand still in Rafe’s, you take a breath of the fresh, evening air. It’s the first time in a long time that you remember appreciating a moment, even being present in one. You think about how you’ve just been surviving; doing what you need to do to get through the day. You’d never have thought the frat boy in your Global Aspects course would change your perspective on everything. 

“So,” Rafe pulls you out of your own head once again, “I think Topper has a crush on Bryn.”

“You don’t say,” you reply sarcastically. 

He laughs, “No, I mean a real crush. He’s always asking my advice every time we come into Black Boar.”

“Well, I’ve never met Topper when he’s not drunk off his ass, so I don’t think I can vouch for him.”

Rafe chuckles at that. He helps you up and into his truck once the two of you reach it, noting the goosebumps on your arms and rubbing his hands up and down your skin to warm you. You give him a smile and assume he’ll close the door, but instead, he steps onto the side bar of his truck and removes your sweater from your hands, tucking it around you carefully. 

“Better?” he asks. 

You nod, “Thank you.”

You watch carefully as he eyes your mouth, and for a long moment, you hope he gives in and kisses you right there. He swallows and shifts his jaw in his mouth, then steps down and closes your door softly. 

When he climbs into the driver's seat, you reach for his hand and he complies, letting you tangle your fingers together while he backs up. You stroke over his skin with your other hand, observing and spinning both of his rings around his fingers. He glances over at you every now and then, but you’re too wrapped up in his skin to pay much attention. 

The ride home is relatively silent, save Rafe’s favorite album playing quietly through the speakers. You feel tired, happy, and full. A part of you wants to just sleep in the truck, but you fight it off. You can sleep after Rafe’s gone, not before. 

You're too busy tracing each line of ink visible to you through his button up that you don’t even notice your arrival until Rafe’s truck shuts off and he turns to you. You’ve grasped nearly all of his right arm at this point, and he hasn’t complained once. Shyly, you release him and watch as he smiles but doesn’t move his hand a single inch. 

“Don’t,” he speaks softly, referring to your sudden shyness, “I like it.”

You return his smile and wrap your hand around his forearm once more, scratching lightly with your nails. 

“I don’t want to get out,” you confess. 

“No?” he questions, lips drifting up into a teasing smirk. 

“I like being with you, Rafe.”

His face falls; throat constricting as he swallows. You can tell you’ve done something with that statement, because all signs of teasing are gone. 

“I like being with you, too, baby.”

You smile then, squeezing his arm. He eyes your iron grip on his skin and lets himself smile, too, letting his hand flatten itself on your thigh. 

“Will you walk me up?” you ask him.

“Of course,” he replies. 

You nod and remove your hands from his arm, to which he shuts off the truck and hurries out. He gets around to your side quickly and reaches for you, letting you take his arm back in your grasp. 

He carries your bag — the one you’d forgotten about on the floor of the passenger seat — and allows you to guide him up the sidewalk and to the stairs, where you two eventually meet your apartment door. 

You turn back to face him, wanting to take him all in one last time before he leaves you. Rafe smirks and backs you up against your door, pressing himself as close to you as he can get. 

“I had so much fun tonight,” you tell him. 

He grins, “So did I. You’re great company.”

You bite down on your bottom lip before your smile can grow at that, wanting him only closer to you. 

“Will you kiss me, now?”

The smirk on his face widens, “What kind of a gentleman would I be if I said no?”

You giggle before you can help yourself; your stomach twisting when he places his hand on the door beside your head and leans in, letting you pull him in by his arm. 

He takes his time with it, brushing his nose over yours to angle you just right before he finally kisses you. Even expecting it, you swear it still knocks the wind out of you. As it’s been all night, it’s just you and him. Nobody else. 

Your grip on his arm falls and soon, both of his hands are wandering lower and lower on your back, until they settle exactly where you want them. You can feel the heat of his hands through your dress, only spurring you on. 

Rafe lets out a groan when you arch into him, silently demanding more. His left hand squeezes your flesh, begging for you to come closer. 

It isn’t until you snap the top button of his shirt open that he gains some semblance of control and pulls back, those blue eyes hazy and lustful. 

“Come in,” you say to him. 

He lets out a chuckle as you notice his puffy lips and pink cheeks. His shirt is open at the top thanks to you, and the thought of all that skin underneath — to which you’ve had the pleasure of seeing only once before — has you gasping for more air. He watches as you start to trace his tattoos with your finger through his shirt once more, realizing it calms you in a way you'd never had before.

“First date etiquette,” he replies breathlessly, “I’m supposed to kiss you goodnight. Not try to fuck you against your front door.”

You laugh, “I didn’t mind the attempt.”

He groans and leans forward to kiss you again before he can help himself, pulling back after only a few moments. 

“You,” he kisses you again, “Are a terrible influence.”

Another kiss, but this time, you tangle your fingers in his hair to try and hold him against you. He groans and pulls back with wide eyes. 

“I’m trying to be a gentleman,” he continues, yet gives in and takes another kiss, “And then you look at me like that, and I just—”

“Come in,” you repeat, gripping his bicep. 

He shuts his eyes then, sucking in air and taking a minute to compose himself. After an exhale and another moment, he shakes his head. When his eyes flutter open, you can see he’s made his decision. 

“Not tonight, baby,” he whispers.

You give in and nod your head, relaxing against the door. He leans down once more and tips your head up with his nose, grazing your lips. This kiss is different. It’s passionate and soft and sweet. When he pulls back, you’re sure you’ve melted into a puddle at his feet. 

“Thank you for dinner,” you say, your grip on him remaining firm. 

“You’re welcome,” he replies, “Can I see you soon?”

“Whenever you want,” you answer immediately. 

He grins, “Come here.”

He kisses you again, and although you lose yourself immediately, something about this one feels final. As if he knows he has to stop now or he won’t stop at all. 

When he pulls back, he releases you and steps away in one swoop. You frown, but smile when you meet his eyes. The skin on your behind burns from where his hands had been resting, and your lips feel swollen in the best way. 

“Goodnight, Rafe,” you murmur. 

He smiles, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You turn and unlock the door, then give him a wave before you escape inside. Once the door is shut behind you, you practically collapse on the floor in a daze, leaning your back against the wall and grinning wildly as you replay every detail from the evening, starting at the very beginning.

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