#they lower their hand to their stomach and mutter 'My tummy hurts...a-and my throat burns'. It's to be expected after the way the void

[dairyfreenugget]

(Going insane boinkinh one AU in my head)

Hey hey hey

May I interest you in

(Slowly slides my FaaF AU towards you but void just Disappears without a trace one day before the accolade)

Teehee

[darkwolf989]

Outside The Office Part Twenty Four

TW: Sex, bad decisions, body image issues

Sunlight streamed through the window and to my surprise, Valentino was on his back, sound asleep next to me. I crawled onto him and snuggled my body on top of his, my belly on fire from the night before. I squirmed on top of him, hoping he would wake up and ease the burning sensation.  Somewhere under the covers, I felt him grow hard but his eyes stayed firmly closed.

I thought back to one of the shoots Valentino had done. A demon, waking her master up each morning by sucking their cock until he came. In the video, she swallowed, batted her eyes, and thanked him for her morning meal. I wondered if Valentino would have the same reaction he did. 

Slowly, I moved my body back, sliding the covers back as I did. With me at least, Valentino slept without a stitch of fabric on, which made my plan this morning all the easier. Slowly, out of both caution and uncertainty, I began to kiss his cock, from the tip to the base, and back again. 

“Princessa?” I heard Valentino mutter.

I slipped the tip of his cock into my warm mouth and wrapped my tongue around it. I heard valentino moan, and tasted the salty sweetness of him for the very first time.  

“Mmm, Princessa.” I heard Valentino moan softly. His hand ran through my hair and gripped down to the base of my roots and tangled my hair. His hips bucked. “Don’t stop.”

Or what? I wanted to lift my head up and tease, but the second my head pressed up to his hand, he pushed me back down. I choked on his cock and tried to swallow around it. 

“Fuck, reader. More of that.” He groaned as his hips bucked faster. 

I choked a bit as his cock hit the back of my throat. My hand wrapped around the rest of his his cock, slicked by a mix of saliva and precum. I tried to lower my head deeper, swallowing to get his cock as far into me as I could. 

“Don’t. Not the first time,” Valentino groaned. “You’ll make yourself sick. Suck, princessa. Faster. Move your head if you need to. Up. Down.Yes! Like that!  Fuuuuck!” 

I felt him explode in the back of my throat and I did my best to hold back a gag as I swallowed every single bit. I slowly pulled my mouth away, releasing his cock with a kiss to the tip. He panted and pulled me to him and held me tight to him.I laid my head against him and listened as his heart pounded frantically in his chest. 

“Good morning to you too, princessa.” He kissed the top of my head and groaned. “You can wake me up like that anytime. Fuck.”

“Good for my first time?” I asked softly as I snuggled him.

“First time? Could have fooled me.” He rolled so that I was pinned under him, the weight of his body on top of mine. “Allow me to return the favor, princessa.” 

I groaned. So much for being to the gym early. 

Valentino was out of bed and off to work before I had regained my energy. A soft kiss on the forehead and a gentle squeeze later, I heard the door close. My body ached, both from both the bedroom and the gym workout the night before. It took every ounce of self determination to pull myself out of bed, swallow ibuprofen, and hit the gym. The miles paced under my feet and I made it almost to fourteen miles before my body gave up. Thank god Valentino’s cock was really the only thing I’d put in my mouth that morning. 

My phone blipped as I stepped out of the shower. The bruises Lucifer had made practically non-existent the day before were back with a painful rage. I swallowed more ibuprofen with a bottle of water as I picked it up. 

Massages, my studio, one hour. Meet me there. Wear comfortable clothes.  

Valentino. I groaned at the thought of someone else touching my body, especially given how much I hurt. My stomach rumbled, a reminder that I hadn’t eaten breakfast or lunch. Coffee would have to do- save my calories for dinner. 

I leaned against the counter, wrapped in my fluffy robe as I sipped my coffee, trying to ignore the rumblings from my tummy. Self control, my father taught me. I still had it, somewhere. The ping of the elevator door pulled me from my thoughts. 

“Hey kiddo!” Vox said cheerfully as he walked across the room. He helped himself to the pot of coffee I had just made. He took a sip and closed his eyes. “Amazing. Just what I needed. Did you eat yet? I think Vel ordered up sandwiches.” He dug through the fridge and pulled out the small plastic container. “Yeah, here we are! Want one?”

“Ah, no. Thanks. I ate already, and I'm watching what I eat.” I replied. I mean, it wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Oh right, Val mentioned that. Yeah, don’t get too worked up over it, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Saw you hit the gym early this morning. Good for you.” He bit into a sandwich and his eyes met mine. 

I felt myself grow cold. Fuck. How did I forget that he had eyes all over the place? Maybe he had seen my workout, the throwing up. No, he wouldn’t have just left me alone if he did, there would be yelling and screaming and, well, Valentino. 

I shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, I prefer to work out early, always have.” 

“Yeah, well, don’t push yourself too hard, kid. You’ll be fine.” He shoved the last bite into his mouth and drained his cup before filling it back to the top. “I gotta go, busy day- come see me when you’re done with Val, I have stuff I need to work with you on.” He paused as he walked towards the elevator, “dress down. No one will see you today except for me.” 

“You got it.” I answered as I watched him walk out the door. I quickly drained my coffee and slipped into sweatpants and one of Valentino’s shirts. I made my way into his studio. 

“Ah, mi amore, welcome,” Valentino said when he saw me step out of the elevator. He stood up and stretched. The stage cleared in a matter of seconds as he walked over to me. He leaned over and kissed my cheek before taking my hand.

“Tell me about your morning, mi amore,” he said as we walked towards the back of the studio. 

“Nothing to talk about,” I shrugged, “worked out, and now I’m here. Nothing fun. Yours?”

“The same. Well, nothing fun after I left you.” He smirked and pushed open a door to the side. 

Instantly, I froze. Flashbacks of being grabbed, the trauma of being drugged and held down in the back of his studio. Valentino seemed to sense my hesitation and his arm wrapped around my waist. 

“I got you, mi amore. You’re okay. No harm will come to you.” He said softly. “Trust me.” 

I hesitated but allowed him to guide me into the dimly lit room. The light scent of lavender filled the room and soft music played from somewhere. In the middle of the room sat two beds. 

“Princessa, first things first. Clothes come off, and you lay down on your stomach. I’ll cover you with a blanket and then call in the massage therapist. This way, your exposure is minimized.” He kissed the top of my head. “Arms up.” 

He tugged my shirt off first and then my pants. Carefully, I laid down and the next thing I felt was a warm blanket that covered me from the neck down. 

“What about you, Val?” I asked as I heard the door open. 

He chuckled. “Princessa, my modestry disappeared ages ago. Now close your eyes and do your best to relax.” 

The feeling of someone else’s hands on my body was something I thought for sure I would hate. But after about ten minutes laying under the warmed blanket, next to Valentino, with gentle hands on my back, I felt my muscles relax in a way I never had before. Pure bliss. Far too soon, the lights came on slowly. I heard the door open and close. 

“It’s just us, princessa. You can sit up now,” Valentino said gently. 

“I don’t wanna,” I mumbled as I opened my eyes and sat up slowly. I took the pile of clothes from Valentino and quickly tugged them back on, wanting to maintain the warmth, the relief. 

He laughed and pulled his shirt back, buttoning each button carefully. “Told you you would love it, my dear. I’ll let you know when I schedule the next one.” He pressed his lips to my forehead and pulled on his jacket. “You’re spending the day with Vox, yes?” His hand found mine and he pulled me to my feet. “Go. I think he has something important to show you.” He paused as he led me out the door and back to the elevator.  “I love you, reader.” 

“I love you too, Val.” 

He bent down and kissed me gently. “See you tonight.” 

I stepped into the elevator and watched as he turned away, the softness in his voice traded instantly for harshness. The door closed, shielding me from that side of him- the side I hoped I was never on the receiving end of. Now to go see what Vox wanted.

[ryangosking]

Perfect Gentleman

Summary: You've had feelings for Steve for a while now, but he's so polite that you've no idea how he feels about you. One night you get drunk and turn up at his apartment, throwing yourself at him. Steve reacts how you'd expect....or does he?

Warnings: 18+ for sexual content. Size kink, of course. Steve has a huge dick 😂

A/N: So I discovered this in an old notebook and decided to revive it. Set around Captain America: The Winter Soldier time, reader works for Tony Stark. Brief mentions of Tony and Natasha. No tag list, hope you enjoy!

Bucky masterlist

You tip-toe gingerly into the kitchen, squinting at the sun streaming through the blinds, your stomach churning. Steve has his back to you, rinsing his breakfast dishes at the sink. He's wearing a t-shirt and jogging pants, the hair at the nape of his neck looks damp with sweat and you guess he's already been for his run. You hadn't heard anything, passed out and dead to the world in Steve's bed.

"Morning." He says, over his shoulder.

"Morning" You answer quietly, tugging self consciously at your dress. It was new, you had bought it especially for your friend's birthday party, and had been so excited to wear it for the first time. But that was before - before you got drunk and made the ill advised decision to turn up at Steve's apartment in the middle of the night. Now you felt like burning the damn thing.

"There's juice in the fridge, cereal in the cupboard." Steve says gruffly, turning his attention back to the sink.

"Oh, thanks." You grab a glass and pour some juice. You don't have much of a hangover (by rights you should be feeling a lot worse) but still, gulp the sweet liquid like you're dying of thirst. The sugar instantly perks you up, making you brave.

"Been for a run?" You ask lightly, perching at the breakfast bar.

Steve's shoulders tense. "The gym."

"Well done." You chuckle.

"Yeah well, I had to vent my frustration somehow." He mutters.

You clear your throat, deciding to pull off the band aid. "Thank-you for last night. Letting me stay here, giving up your bed. "

"No problem." He sighs, throwing the dishcloth to one side, finally facing you.

"And um..." You feel yourself flush under his penetrating gaze. "I'm sorry about trying to...that was inappropriate. You were a perfect gentleman."

"You were drunk." he states, flatly.

"I know, I'm sorry. It just all got to me I guess, pressure at work, the argument I had with Tony, I shouldn't have.....I mean thank-you for not taking advantage of me. You were a gentleman, like I said." You realise that you're babbling now, so stop.

"I almost wasn't." He murmurs, biting his lower lip.

"What?" You ask, lost.

"A gentleman, I almost wasn't one. The way you were kissing me, pushing up on me....if you had been sober it might have gone another way." Steve says softly, blue eyes blazing into yours.

"Oh." You stare at him, stunned, your fuzzy head trying to make sense of what he was saying. "I'm sober now." You blurt, and it feels almost involuntary.

Steve's jaw tenses. "What are you saying?"

"I'm not drunk anymore." You say slowly, slipping from your stool and taking a step towards him. Your tummy is fizzing and it's not just the booze from the night before.

"You mean that you still want..." He swallows. "THIS to happen?"

With a trembling hand you reach up and touch his face. "You must know how I feel about you Steve? I was drunk last night but I meant everything I said."

In a quick move he grabs the back of your neck and kisses you, hard. You gasp with surprise, before holding his arm to steady yourself and kissing him back, pressing yourself into his huge frame.

He groans softly into your mouth as the kiss deepens and he backs you against the counter. One hand in your hair, the other on the curve of your waist.

Steve breaks away, his breathing heavy. "What do you want?" He asks, eyes searching yours.

"I thought that was obvious." You chuckle, running your hands over his back.

"I mean, how far do you want this to go?"

"As far as the bedroom?" You say, tentatively.

"Yeah." he murmurs, kissing you again, rougher and hotter.

You stretch up to run your fingers through his hair and can't help but giggle.

"What?" Steve mumbles.

"You're too tall, Rogers."

He laughs and picks you up, placing you on the counter. "How about now?" He asks, wedging himself in between your knees.

"Perfect." You breath, sliding your mouth over his.

You stay like that for a while, kisses growing harder, more urgent, until your legs are up around his waist and you feel his heavy cock twitch against your thigh.

You pull away slightly, to take a breath.

"You're a great kisser."

He chuckles, leaning his forehead on yours. "Don't sound so surprised."

"I'm not, it's just...it's hot." You swallow, feeling the familiar needy ache in your cunt.

"Tell me about it." He sighs. "I'm about to bust out of these pants."

"Really?" You smirk, reaching between your bodies to touch him, placing your hand on his stiff cock. Gosh, even bigger than you thought.

"Fuck." Steve curses, burying his face in the soft warmth of your neck. "I need you."

"Where do you want me, Captain?" You tease, attempting to hide your nervousness.

"My bed." he says gruffly. "I want you in my bed."

X - X - X

In the bedroom he undresses you, his large strong hands making quick work of your dress, and presses hot kisses onto your skin. It feels dreamy and unreal, like you're still tipsy, but you've never been more awake and sober in your life. You can't help wondering what Natasha will make of all this, her knowing smirk when you tell her.

Your pussy throbs at the sight of him naked, with lust and apprehension. His cock is beautiful, like the rest of him, and huge - stiff against his abdomen and leaking at the tip. You're hardly a blushing virgin but you've also never been with anybody so ... substantial.

Steve sits next to you on the bed and as if reading your mind murmurs, "I'm going to have to play with you a little first, honey." His hand moving in-between your soft thighs. "I don't want to hurt you."

You gasp as his thick fingers explore your damp folds, easily finding your aching clit with his thumb. He gently lays you back on the bed and kisses your neck as your body relaxes and opens up for him, your slippery cunt grasping as he finger-fucks you.

"Is this ok?" he asks, moving his mouth to your breast.

You whimper and arch your back in reply, the heat building at your core as he curls his fingers, hitting that sweet spot buried deep inside you. His tongue on your nipple knocks you over the edge, and you moan his name as your orgasm washes over you, squeezing his hand between your thighs.

You watch, dazed, as Steve kneels and reaches in his bedside cabinet for a condom, rolling it over his rigid member. Even now, sated and soaking, you gulp at the thought of having him inside you. Still, you want more.

"You ready for me?" He asks lowly.

You nod, and he kisses you softly, running his tongue over your bottom lip.

"Good girl. Here, it might be easier like this."

Steve leans back and pulls you on top of him, his hands firm on your waist. You grip his shoulders for balance and kiss him again, there's so much that you want to say - how you've been in love with him for months, how you never dreamed he felt the same, how none of this feels real.

"Are you ok?" He asks, anxiously, brows knitted together.

"Yes, Captain." You murmur, gripping his cock at the base and slowly lowering yourself onto him.

He inhales sharply as he penetrates your warm wetness, inch by inch.

"You feel incredible." He groans, dropping his head onto your shoulder.

You move your hips experimentally and oh, the delicious burn of him moving inside you, your thighs trembling with the effort of holding you up. He grabs your hair and kisses you lustily as he thrusts up into you and you're so full of him you see stars.

He tries his best to be gentle, he really does. It doesn't exactly hurt, well not in any way you've experienced before. You mewl as he pummels you, his cock stretching and filling your needy pussy over and over, by contrast holding you in his hands so gently as if he's scared you'll break.

"You're so good honey," He growls, stroking your face. "So good for me."

Your second orgasm comes easily, the strength of the contractions making you moan and shake, clinging to Steve as if you're drowning. He comes straight after, pulsating deep inside you, as he groans and curses hotly in your ear.

"Are you ok?" He asks again, when you finally move off him.

"I'm more than ok." You sigh, exhausted, lying next to him.

He pulls you to him, spooning you, his face nestled into your shoulder. "I'm still a gentleman you know." He murmurs.

"I know." You chuckle, drowsily. "The perfect gentleman."

[keontum]

Double stuffed.

ship: Leedo x Xion

(contains belly fetish content, smut, gas, cum inflation, vomit)

Geonhak was a big boy... Not big as in chubby, but muscular and tall... Beefy.. So he needed a lot of food to build up his energy, especially the days he planned on working out, dance practice, or doing fan meets and vlives.

A live was scheduled for Geonhak today, and dongju excitedly waited for the notification so he could hype him up in the chat, but as time passed... no Geonhak. Dongju huffed and left his room, wandering through the dorms to hear a soft groaning coming from the office where they would normally go live. With a tilt to his head, dongju made his was to the door and slowly pushed it open, seeing Geonhak curled up on the couch, groaning in pain. “H-Hyung? Are you okay?..” Dongju asked, slipping into the room and closing the door behind him. He crouched down besides the couch, placing a hand to Geonhak’s arm. “Mm.. Y-Yeah. Im fine.. Just a stomach ache..” Dongju’s face fell even more, nodding his head at the his hyungs response. “Hey.. look at me.. You feel like you’re burning up..” Geonhak groaned and turned over into his back, revealing his enlarged stomach, which sloshed and gurgled at his movements. Dongju gasped, eyeing the hill under the others shirt. “Oh, dear... Youve eaten too much again..” Geonhak nodded his head, flinching as his stomach rumbled angrily in response. “I-it’s hurts so bad..” The smaller boy pouted and sat down onto his bottom, carefully raising up the others shirt, hearing it gurgle continuously. Geonhak’s abs have faded so much under the bloat of his belly, they we’re almost invisible now. Dongju has been in this position many times before, always soothing his hyungs belly aches, so he knew exactly what to do.

With a sigh, dongju pressed a hand to the bubbling orb and began caressing it, feeling the vibrations of the rumbles, and food shifting against his hand. “Ooh.. fuck..” Geonhak sighed with relief, the rubs and massages from Dongju helping his digestion move along easier. Loud groans and gurgles emanated from the belly with each shift of food that was pushed deeper into his belly and digestive track, causing Dongju to smile softly. “Good boy.. Digesting so well..” The tummy let out a soft burble, geonhak smiling to himself as his belly thanked the other for the praise. The bloat soon pushed to geonhak’s lower belly, most of the food now digested. Dongju’s head laid rested against the swollen tummy, listening to the activity inside, all while geonhak snoozed. With a deep rumble and a forceful push outwards of his lower belly, a loud rippling gust of air pushed out from Geonhak’s ass, causing dongju to jump, and geonhak to awaken. “O-oh, shit.. i’m so sorry..” The taller said with a blush to his cheeks, watching a dongju giggled. “You’re fine, hyung~” He smiled sweetly, pressing his lips to the bloated dome, giving it a kiss. Geonhak’s stomach purred at the kiss, his hand reaching down to cup the bulge in his lower belly. “i-it looks like i’ve got a baby bump-“ Geonhak snorted, the other nodding his head in agreement. “Mmm, you’ve got another little food baby~ tsk.” Dongju’s lips pressed soft, sweet kisses over the flesh, ending at his shallow navel, listening to the belly, and geonhak’s moans. “Mmh c-come and love up on my belly more..” Geonhak whined, pulling the smaller onto his lap. Dongju only giggled and cupped the belly in his hands, giving it a squish. The belly gurgled at him, sending a belch passed geonhak’s lips. “Mmh— Excuse me..” Geonhak muttered, closing his eyes once again as dongju leaned down and began pressing more kisses to the gurgling mass in his hands. “You sing so beautiful when i’m giving you attention~ i love listening to you.” softly, geonhaks stomach rumbles, shaking his whole belly, absolutely loving the praise Dongju gave. unfortunately, the rumble also signified something else. Slowly, geonhak sat up and looked down at the bump of his lower belly, placing a hand over it and feeling it tremble with rumbles under his touch. “Ooo... fuck.. i-i think it’s time to let this food baby go..” He muttered, scooting Dongju off his lap and hopping up, just to be pulled back down next to Dongju again. “Mm, not yet. Im not done with you.”

The smaller straddled the others thighs again, cradling the belly in his hands again. Geonhak let out a soft whine, listening as his belly protested, begging for release. “D-Dongju, i-ive got to go..” His stomach churned and burbled angrily with each passing second, dongju ignoring the cries for his own guilty pleasure. “I think i deserve an award for soothing your belly ache.. dont you remember what you promised lasted time?” Dongju slipped down onto the floor, sitting himself between his hyungs legs, waisting no time as he eagerly tugged down his bottoms, being greeted by a tent in Geonhak’s boxers. “Perfect.. Already hard for me..” Geonhak’s whole face turned red, resting a hand to the side of his angry, grumbling stomach. “J-ju, i can’t.. my belly aches too much.. i really need to use th—“ He was cut off by an eager Dongju, who has already freed his cock from his boxers, and press a kiss to the leaking tip. “You’re belly is just gonna ache more and more until you’ve filled my belly with your cum..” The sound of Dongju’s belly rumbling with hunger echoed through the room, harmonizing with the other belly’s gurgles. Geonhak bit his lip and scooted to the edge of the couch, cock twitching right in front of the others face. His balls rested under him, swollen, throbbing and abused. it’s been awhile since he’s gotten off...What better place to dump his huge load than down his best friends throat. Happily, dongju took his hyungs cock into his mouth, looking up passed the bloated belly to meet the others gaze, sending shivers down Geonhak’s spine.

Soon, dongju’s throat was being pounded into, his bottoms now on the floor with his hand around his own cock, jerking himself. Deep grunts and moans rumbles through the others throat as he pushed his hips into the smallers mouth, a hand over his belly as if gurgled and sloshed with each movement. Finally, with a growl, geonhak released his built up cum deep into Dongju’s throat, filling his rumbling belly full of his seed. Dongju’s eyes widened at the sudden release, his head being forced down onto the cock, unable to pull back. Tears filled his eyes and he clutched his expanding stomach, taking in ever last drop of his cum. It wasn’t long before his lower belly began to flood with the cum his stomach was unable to hold, pushing out his stomach even more, all while crying against geonhak’s cock, begging him to stop before he burst like a balloon. Finally, after dongju’s entire midsection was full, geonhak pulled back, watching the boy vomit up a huge wave of potent seed, still leaving him with a small, taught belly, looking as if he was a few weeks into his own pregnancy. Geonhak smirked and stood himself up, leaving to finally relieve himself, poor Dongju panting and collapsing by the puddle of cum he threw up.

A few minutes passed, dongju laid on the floor, collecting himself. A soft gurgle from his stomach caught his attention, sitting up and slowly raising his shirt, gasping at the sight of his round, bloated stomach. It let out another grumble, one that sounded satisfied and full. Dongju smiled tiredly, cupping a hand to his cum filled underbelly. “you like that, huh?” The belly rumbled in response, causing his already hard cock to twitch up against his stomach. “i’ll cover you in cum too~” the smaller whispered, caressing the swollen mound, leaning back and wrapping his free hand around his length, slowly stroking himself against his belly. Soft moans filled the room, his head full of memories that happened just a moment ago. He pushed against his stomach, hearing it slosh with his hyungs cum, groaning before resting a hand over the top of his stomach. The thought of being filled full of Geonhak’s cum was enough to push him over the edge, and with a soft whine, he released his seed all over his round belly. “Well, well, well... Enjoying yourself too?” said Geonhak from the doorway, causing dongju to jump a little. He nodded his head and looked down at his belly, the mess he made and then at geonhak, a pout on his lips. Geonhak was now much less bloated, and felt much better. He was Quick to clean dongju off and place him on his lap on the couch, holding him close. Dongju got comfortable, pulling his shirt down as much as he could, the shirt riding just above his belly button from the bloat. Geonhak was just about to speak up when he was interrupted by a deep gurgle from Dongju’s stomach. Dongju let out a soft whine, looking down at his belly as he placed a hand over it, feeling his belly churn, digesting the cum that sat heavily inside. “Sounds like you’re ready to nap and digest your meal now.” Geonhak chuckled, laying back with dongju rested on top of him. The smaller boy smiled and wrapped his arms around the other, feeling his swollen belly pressing into geonhaks, fitting together like a puzzle piece. Slowly, the two drifted off to sleep, the soft rumbling and gurgling of dongju’s belly, along with the vibrations it made, soothed them both into a sweet, deep slumber.

[trashytummiez]

Idia ate way too much and has a tummyache that Yuu needs to settle by coaxing out some really big burps from the shy boi which Yuu swoons over.

"Unnnngh Yuuuuu..." Idia whined from atop his bed. He was laying down on his side with his arms wrapped protectively around his tummy with tears welling up from his eyes. "Why does my tummy feel like it's gonna explode...??"

Yuu smiled sympathetically and crawled in bed behind the whimpering boy. It was a wonder his fiery blue hair didn't burn her chest or the bed. Instead it felt like a comforting warmth like a space heater not real flames. Her hands wrapped around Idia's waist and rested squarely against his tummy. Even behind his oversized blue hoodie it felt so big and bloated which caused her cheeks to darken. "Feels like you stress-ate too much again. Any projects coming up?"

"...P-Presentation...a-and Ortho isn't gonna be available..." Idia whimpered and trembled a little both from having Yuu's hands planted against his immensely bloated tummy and the reminder that he was gonna be flying solo and have to speak in front of the whole class.

"No wonder," Yuu replied. "Poor guy..."

"...J-Just the thought of all those eyes staring up at me and judging me...th-thinking I'm some weirdo loser who d-doesn't belong there..." Idia's body tensed up and more tears welled from the corners of his eyes from anxiety-induced fears.

"Shhhh it's okay babe. It's okay," Yuu assured her cripplingly anxious boyfriend. She pulled him a little closer and rubbed circles into the middle of Idia's stretched out tummy to help him calm down.

She wrapped her fingers around the bottom of Idia's hoodie and pulled it up high exposing the whole of his bloated pale tummy in all its smooth bare expanse. Yuu's hands grabbed at Idia's stretched out stomach where she began to firmly tenderly rub it using both hands. Idia whimpered but clutched at his sheets a little with a soft huff not yet used to physical contact but growing to really like it especially whenever Yuu rubbed his belly. His tummy rub was starting to have the desired relaxing impact Yuu wanted it to have on him.

"Tell you what Idia. If Ortho can't be there for support how about I see if your professor will let me stick around for your presentation? Ace and I aren't in class that time anyway. We usually just hang out until our next period so I could skip out a little to be there and give you that boost you need."

Idia's eyes widened in surprise. "Y-You'd d-do that for me...?"

Yuu giggled and teasingly slapped Idia's belly which made the boy hiccup loudly and blush.

"Of course I would silly. Why wouldn't I be there to support someone I care so much about?"

Idia's lips trembled. He wasn't used to anyone showing so much genuine care and kindness towards him besides Ortho. To know that someone cared so much about him was almost enough to make Idia cry.

"...Th-Thank you..." Idia muttered softly and thankfully.

Yuu smiled and continued lovingly rubbing all over Idia's rounded tummy.

He loved the feeling but he knew he had to find some way to show Yuu how grateful he was to her. Some token or act of kindness he could repay her for so it didn't just feel like she was the one who always had to be there for him. But his thoughts were interrupted when his tummy uttered a large and unpleasant gurgle.

"...Unnngh...ohhh my tummy..." Idia muttered embarrassed that his stomach was still griefing him.

Yuu didn't mind. Any excuse to keep her hands all over his belly was all she needed.

Her delicate fingers stroked the sides of his glutted tummy gently running up to the peak of his stomach and down to his undersides where she would grip the bottom of Idia's bulging belly and give it a gentle jiggle. The way everything in his expanded stomach sloshed around made her swoon and got her to squeeze at Idia's underbelly. Idia blushed immensely when an audible moan exited his mouth almost involuntarily. He really wasn't used to expressing delight like that but he couldn't help it~nothing felt better to him than Yuu showing his overstuffed tummy some love.

Yuu gripped Idia's lower tummy which made him bite his lower lip with his fangs. "Your belly is so big," Yuu fawned adoringly whilst holding Idia's belly in her hands. "You really pack it away when you're nervous huh..." Yuu took note and gave Idia's soft rounded stomach a few teasing pats. Idia's round exposed belly jiggled from all of Yuu's pats and something inside bubbled heavily and noisily.

Idia hiccuped suddenly and covered his mouth with a blush. He hiccuped again but stifled it the second time because the hiccup morphed into a deep rumbling burp Idia muffled in his closed mouth. His cheeks went dark with embarrassment from the sound while Yuu's went dark for a different reason.

"...Lotta pressure in there huh," Yuu noted in a quiet but excited tone of voice. She held Idia's belly in her hands and felt it emit a gassy churn that made her shudder and made Idia cringe.

Yuu firmly rubbed Idia's bulging belly to circulate the gas brewing inside of him. It worked in that she felt his tummy gurgling more heavily. Idia whimpered before another closed-mouth burp rumbled loudly in his mildly puffed cheeks.

"Don't hold back babe," Yuu insisted in a tone that made her desires plain as day. Especially when she lightly slapped Idia's belly to make it jiggle and slosh.

Idia whimpered when he felt more gas rushing up his throat. He wasn't used to letting loose freely unless he was gaming with his clan mates. But he was aware of his girlfriends fetishes and had to admit that he was increasingly fond of having her hands all over his belly like that. So when the gas reached his mouth he indulged her by letting his jaws part with a loud and brassy burp that rumbled hard enough to make some drool dribble out of Idia's mouth.

BBBRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPP!!!!!

Idia blushed and covered his mouth with a deep blush and an adorably timid "excuse me...!" But Yuu shuddered so intensely that it made Idia's bloated tummy jiggle just slightly from the vibration of her own pleased spasm.

She pushed her thumb into the side of Idia's round tummy squishing into it so hard it sank a bit into his bloated flesh. Idia couldn't suppress the enormous burp that rumbled out of his mouth even if he tried. Which he did hence why his cheeks puffed out momentarily before his lips almost rippled open with the rushing gas.

Idia's cheeks were darker from embarrassment but he couldn't help moan a little.

"...Ohhh wow...that felt good..."

"Atta boy get it all out," Yuu insisted especially eagerly and gave Idia's tummy a couple of resounding pats. The way his belly jiggled with those pats was enough to make Yuu swoon right there but it also jiggled up some festering gas. Idia burped long and loud from the patting and uttered a cute little after burp when it finished.

Idia's moan of relief after was just too much for Yuu.

"Sit up," Yuu instructed with a voice that did little to mask how deeply turned on she was.

Idia heaved himself up with an audible groan. He felt so heavy that it actually took some effort to get up and the way his big stretched tummy swayed really emphasized how bloated he was. He sat on his knees and faced Yuu with his large round tummy spilling out and facing directly before Yuu.

She very eagerly grabs at its sides and kneads his large tummy eagerly but lovingly. Her hands rub it up and down and she leans down to plant a kiss at the high rounded crest of his stomach and another one directly above his cute belly button. Idia whimpered from the affection but actually smiled somewhat all the same.

Yuu began to really knead into his belly like it was a big ball of dough. She felt it churn and groan noisily in her hands and squeezed it while she kneaded. Idia turned his head and raised a fist in front of his mouth as a heavy burp rolled past his lips and left Idia huffing with an exhale relief.

"Ooooof..."

The look of relief on Idia's face and that verbalization drove Yuu crazy. And because Idia's tummy was hurting less with each bellowing eruption he didn't object either.

In fact he slumped back on the bed resting both hands against the mattress and sprawling his legs out to make his bloated tummy stick out even more for Yuu to rub knead and fondle. He huffed at the feeling of her kneading into his belly letting his tongue almost stick out.

She pushed her palms deep into the center of Idia's belly right into his belly button.

Idia threw his head back and burped so loudly and so hard that Yuu swore that his bed actually shook. Though it was probably just her was that shook.

AAAAAAAAAUUUUUURRRRRHHHHOOOOOOOOORRRREEEEEEUUUUURRRRRRHHPPP!!!!!!!!!

Idia slumped back and moaned heavily in deep relief.

"Nnnnngh...wow did my tummy need that..." Idia groaned gently patting his belly with relief. "...I didn't even think I could burp that loudly before..."

His eyes met Yuu's and he could see how visibly aroused he was and giggled a little nervously.

"...Umm...d-d-did you like that...?" He asked in a genuinely adorable sort of way. Idia was incapable of properly teasing someone's kinks with any degree of confidence. But that one just desperately needed to come out.

That his girlfriend enjoyed it so much was just a very happy byproduct.

"...You're amazing," Yuu muttered leaning forward with her hands still on Idia's stuffed tummy and planting her lips onto his blue ones for a deep passionate kiss.

Idia's eyes went wide as tennis balls and his blue hair immediately brightened to a real fire color while his pale cheeks went strawberry red.

When she pulled away Yuu smiled and lightly stroked his tummy as Idia sat there and sputtered in a ridiculously yet adorably flustered way. But when she rubbed she kneaded some more into his tummy pushing into it with her fingers like she was checking to see if Idia had any more pressure to let out.

It wasn't a big one like that last breath-stopper was but Idia still had a pretty sizable pressure pocket roll up from his tummy and up his throat.

But this time the nervous boy in a spur of the moment decision leaned in close and burped right in Yuu's face.

UUUUUUUURRRREEEEEUUUUUUURRRRHP!!!!!

Yuu sat there looking absolutely stunned.

Idia shifted nervously and scratched the back of his head. "...T-Too much...?"

Apparently so because poor Idia suddenly yelped when Yuu yanked him close by the collar of his hoodie and passionately made out with the anxious boy right there.

This was such an odd relationship sometimes. Idia knew all about fetishes and what not but never realized he could indulge things like that for anyone else. And he wasn't sure whether that information should embolden him or scare the living daylights out of him.

But whichever one Idia fell under it was honestly worth it to make his girlfriend happy in any way he could.

If that meant being occasional kink fuel for his significant other then Idia was okay with that. Anything to be a good boyfriend to such a wonderful girlfriend.

[writemywaytoyourheart]

BTS Reaction: When He's Sick | Maknae Line

Requested: a long a$$ time ago, someone requested BTS taking care of you and you them. So here's the second part 😌

Genre: fluff

Warnings: nooone

BTS When You're Sick here

Enjoy my lovelies^^

================

PARK JIMIN:

aNgEl BoI 😥

Jiminie💞: Hey, baby. You still up for that date today?

You smile down at the text your boyfriend sent you a moment ago. After texting him back a quick reply, confirming the date, you finish up your make-up and run to get dressed. Hurrying over to the door when the bell rings, already knowing who it is, you open the door and a bright smile forms on your face at the sight of Jimin in a white button down and black jeans. Jimin holds his arms out, "Baby!! I've missed you." You walk into his hold, "I missed you, too."

Jimin takes you to a restaurant first, telling you to order whatever you'd like. You thank him and scan over the menu, thinking about what to get. That's when you hear a little cough and sniffle. You look up at Jimin, a question in your eyes. He's looking down at his menu, but he keeps coughing a little, like he's trying to clear his throat. You reach across the table to touch his arm, getting his attention. 

"You okay, love?" You ask when he looks up at you. Jimin just nods frantically, "Yes! I'm all right, just a little tickle in my throat." He grabs his water and sips on it to prove his point. You let it go, not wanting to push him.

After the meal, Jimin takes you to the arcade to hang out before your movie starts. You're having a blast, running around and trying all the different games, and Jimin watches you happily. After a while, you notice Jimin looks really tired and he keeps going to the restroom. So the next time he comes out, you ask him what's going on.

"If you don't feel well, we can go home." You assure him kindly. Jimin just looks torn and shakes his head, "No, I want to finish this date with you. I just needed a tissue, I think I'm just having a little bit of allergies."

"Jimin." He looks at you sadly, knowing the tone of your voice. You're not taking any nonsense. "I have an idea," you say, all smiles. Jimin quirks a brow, letting you grab his arm and drag him out of the arcade. After stopping by the store to grab some things, you are unlocking the door to your apartment and ushering Jimin in. He pouts as he goes to sit on the couch.

"Jagiya, I wanted today to be special."

You join him on the couch and give him a hug, "We have all the time in the world to have dates, Jiminie. Today, I'm going to take care of you." He tries to protest, but then he sneezes and you force him to get comfy on the couch, then you run to grab a blanket. You join him on the couch after setting the coffee table with tissues and snacks.

Jimin finally lets a tiny smile break out on his face, "You're so cute, jagiya." He says when you hand him some cold medicine.

"Anything for my baby. Now, what movie do you want to watch?" After a few minutes, you convince him to stay (he doesn't want you to get sick) and you two settle on a movie. Then, you spend the night watching movies and babying him.

KIM TAEHYUNG:

I know this is old, but lOOk at him. just LoOk.

You're just finishing up dinner, giving the food one last stir, when your husband walks in the front door. You turn and see him shutting the door and dropping his bag on the floor by the entryway.

That brings a frown to your face, knowing Tae always brings his bag to the bedroom closet the second he gets home. Him just dropping it here means there's something wrong. You lower the heat on the stove and set the spoon you were stirring it with down. Then you rinse your hands off and walk over to him. He's slowly taking his shoes off and replacing them with his slippers. You're about to ask him if he's alright when your three year old daughter comes barreling through the house, screeching with excitement.

"Daaadddyyy!!!!"

She runs full speed towards Taehyung, wrapping her arms around his leg and holding tight. You giggle at her cute actions, then you see Tae wince, reaching down to pet her little head, "Hello, my sweet baby. How was your day?" You can tell he's trying to brighten his voice, but there's definitely something wrong.

Inyoung starts rambling away about all the games she played with mommy and how she is learning the ABC song, and all the snacks she ate. Tae picks her up and carries her to the couch, setting her on his lap and listening intently to her stories. You follow behind, leaning your hip against the couch and watching your husband worriedly. When Inyoung finishes, she jumps off his lap and runs to her room to find some toys to play with daddy. That's when you take your chance to speak up, "Are you all right, honey?"

Taehyung looks up at you like he's just come out of a trance. He smiles weakly and stands up, coming over to wrap his arms around you, "Hey, baby. I missed you." He mutters into your hair.

"I missed you too, honey. Don't avoid my question."

He giggles at you, then he leans back to look at you. He brushes your hair out of your eyes and his turn anxious, "I just don't feel my best."

You put your hand to his forehead, feeling how hot he is, you frown. "Go and get into something comfortable, love. Then come have some dinner." He nods and goes to change.

When he comes out, he looks worse than before, his forehead is all sweaty and he winces when he sits at the table. He doesn't eat much at dinner, causing you to worry even more.

You have him go to the room, then you grab a thermometer and some medicine. He's lying on his side, face scrunched up in pain. You hurry over and take his temperature.

102°f/ 38.8°c

"Tae baby, what's hurting?" You ask softly. He just groans and puts a hand over his eyes, "Everything. My whole body aches and I keep feeling hot and cold and hot and cold." You notice he's covering his eyes, so you go and turn the light out. He uncovers them, then takes the medicine for his fever that you give him.

It seems like he has the flu, so you go out to tell Inyoung that daddy can't play. The little girl comes to stand by the edge of the bed, reaching out to take Tae's hand. He's falling asleep, due to the medicine, but he manages a weak smile and squeezes her hand gently.

"Are you okay, daddy?" She whispers uncertainly. Tae gives her a small nod, "Daddy's okay, love. Just a bit sicky. Don't get too close, I don't want my precious baby getting sick." Inyoung nods and steps back to hug your leg.

You put a wet rag on his head, then brush his hair back, "Get some sleep, baby." He nods, then he's out like a light.

When he wakes up a little later after Inyoung is in bed, you feed him some broth and crackers, replacing the now warm rag with a colder one. He mumbles a quiet 'thank you' before passing out again. You just smile sadly and pet his hair, quietly assuring him you'll be right here.

JEON JUNGKOOK:

he an baby ;-;

"Y/n? Baby?" Jungkook mumbles sleepily, tapping you on the shoulder while you sleep peacefully.

You're dead asleep, but after a few tries, Jungkook can see you stirring. You twitch when you feel a hot hand rubbing up and down on your arm. When you start coming to, you hear your husband's voice.

"Y/n? Baby, please wake up."

The second you comprehend what's going on, your eyes peel open and you look over to your right to see Jungkook curled up on his tummy, his knees tucked underneath him. His hair is sweaty and sticking to his forehead.

"Kook? Love, are you okay?" You sit up immediately, worry consuming your mind. He shakes his head a tiny bit, then he lets out a soft groan.

"I feel...s-sick."

You scoot over and brush his damp hair back to feel his forehead. He's burning up. "Sick how, love? What's hurting?" You ask gently, moving your hand down to rub his back softly.

"My s-stomach..." He whines and stuffs his face into his pillow. You turn to your other side and grab your phone to check the time.

5:47am

"Ok, I'm going to get you some medicine and then I'm going to call the boys and let them know you're staying home today." You set your phone down and stand up to get something to make him feel better. But another whine from Jungkook makes you stop.

"No, no baby don't do that. I have to go to practice."

"Jeon Jungkook, don't start this with me right now." You say gently but sternly. He just moves to his side, trying to find a good position.

"It hurts. I'm gonna be sick." Jungkook moans, holding his tummy and clenching his eyes shut. At his words, you run to the kitchen and grab your designated sick-bucket, then you run back and sit next to him on the bed.

"Here, baby." You brush his hair back again, Jungkook shifting and trying to sit up. He manages to get up enough to take the bowl with shaking hands.

"I don't wanna p-puke."

"I know, but you'll feel better."

Jungkook's whole body is shaking, his eyes watering as he stares into the empty bowl, willing himself not to be sick.

You want to get him some medicine, but you know he doesn't want to be alone. "Kook? I'm going to get you some medicine, alright?" He shakes his head, reaching out a hand to wrap around your wrist.

"P-please don't leave me."

"Baby, I will be so quick. Just take some breaths and stay calm. I'll be right back." He lets go of your wrist and nods weakly. The second you're free, you hurry to the bathroom to get him something for the pain. While you're there, you grab a thermometer too.

When you come back, Jungkook is leaning over the bowl, breathing short and quick. You sit down and pat his back, "Kook, take deep breaths." He shakes his head, the panic setting in.

"Hey, listen to me baby. Breathing quick will make it wors-"

Before you can even finish, he's throwing up. You keep rubbing his back, letting him know you're there.

After a minute, he stops. He's still shaking and a quiet sob leaves his lips.

"Oh sweetie, it's okay. Do you feel better?" You ask softly. He shrugs, willingly handing over the now dirty bucket when you take it from him. You set it on the floor and help him lie down again. After a quick temperature check, it's confirmed that he's running a fever. You give him the medicine and call the members, explaining the situation.

"Kook, the boys said to get better, and they don't want to see you again until you're feeling great." You tell him, walking over to stroke his hair. He whimpers and you lean down to kiss him on the head.

"Don't. You'll get sick." He mutters weakly.

"Oh I don't care. You'll just have to take care of me, then." You see a tiny smile on his face and your heart lifts.

"Thank you, Y/n. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Feel better baby, I'll be right here."

Jungkook falls asleep with those words in his mind, his sweaty hand gripping yours loosely. 

===========================

a/n: Hope you guys liked it ;-;

[tickly-trashcan]

Operation: Cheer up Deku

hello hello! i honestly took this one and ran with it, i’m really soft for platonic cheer up tickles! i hope you enjoy it, this one was probably one of my favorite ones to write yet~

Summary: Midoriya snaps at Ochako, running to his room after. Ochako sits down with Iida and Todoroki to decide a way to get Midoriya back to his cheerful self. 

Word Count: 1.7k (under the cut)

Midoriya paced around the dormitory commons, stress nagging in the back of his head as anxiety built up in his stomach.

His most recent training session with All Might hadn’t gone very well, and he was beginning to question his ability to be the next successor of One for All. He wasn’t as strong as All Might, he knew that, but he also wasn’t living up to All Might’s image, and that’s what truly bothered him. He was so caught up in his own self-deprecating thoughts that he didn’t even hear one of his classmates creep up behind him.

“Deku? Are you alright?” Ochako asked, extending a hand to his shoulder, placing it gently while keeping her pinky raised.

“I’m fine!” Midoriya snapped, quickly regretting his tone as Ochako looked at him in dismay, her eyes glossing over.

“Uraraka, I-” Midoriya stopped, guilt washing over him as he gripped his fist, angrily running away from Ochako and back to his dorm room. 

Ochako frowned, taking in a shaky breath. She wasn’t used to Midoriya being like this, he was so closed off and worried looking. She didn’t know what to do, it was obvious that he was having a hard time and didn’t want to talk to anyone just yet, but she couldn’t just sit there and do nothing… 

“Are you alright, Uraraka? I’ve never seen Midoriya act like that before,” Iida asked when Ochako returned to the couch where she and Iida had been sitting together playing a board game with Todoroki. Ochako sighed.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but I want to help cheer him up somehow! It’s not nice to have a gloomy Deku, y’know?” She said, slinking back into the couch and crossing her arms, puffing her cheeks.

“Well, why don’t we come up with some way to cheer him up then?” Todoroki asked simply, placing down a few cards and moving one of the game pieces, not looking up from the board.

Ochako looked over at Todoroki with an inquisitive glance. “What do you think we could do?”

Todoroki tapped his chin in thought. Iida pushed up his glasses. Ochako placed her hand on her chin. They all thought for several minutes, trying to come up with the best way to cheer up their normally bright and happy friend.

“We could buy him a present? I bring presents to my brother when he’s feeling down, that always cheers him up,” Iida suggested, miming out a square box with his hands as he looked at Ochako, who shook her head.

“What would we get him? He already has every single All Might figure imaginable, and I’m sure that a present wouldn’t make him feel better… What if we bake him a cake? We can ask Sato to help out!” Ochako suggested, dramatically raising a hand into the air as she said so. 

Iida shook his head. “If he’s sad he probably doesn’t feel like eating, especially when it’s sweet. Sweets are a comfort when you’re sad, but they don’t always make you feel better.” 

Ochako sighed, slinking back again into the couch. “I’m out of ideas then, I always resort to food… What about you, Todoroki? Any ideas on Operation: Cheer up Deku?”

Iida huffed out a soft laugh. “That’s what we’re calling it now?”

Ochako nodded. “Every important operation needs a name, and cheering up Deku is a really important task!”

Todoroki looked up at the ceiling briefly, still thinking to himself before turning a bit to face Ochako and Iida.

“How about we tickle him?”

“Huh?”

Todoroki shrugged. “Midoriya did it to me once when I was feeling down, and I’ll admit that it worked. Maybe it’ll work on him too?”

Ochako rubbed her chin with her hand. “I suppose… it’s not as direct as a gift, and it won’t take as much time as a cake. Plus, they say that laughter is the best medicine. Yeah, why don’t we try that?”

Iida sighed. “I feel it would be a bit inappropriate to do that, but if it means cheering him up, I’m willing to help,” he said with a soft smile, Ochako grinning widely from ear to ear as she jumped up.

“Alright! Operation: Cheer up Deku is a go!”

Ochako led Todoroki and Iida as they walked over towards Midoriya’s dorm, Ochako knocking on the door.

“Deku?”

“Go away, Uraraka,” A meek voice called from within, Ochako turning to face the two boys who stood behind her as she frowned.

“He must be really down,” she whispered, looking up at Iida, who readjusted his glasses.

“Let’s hope we can actually cheer him up this way,”

“I’m sure we can do it, as long as we can make Deku happy again, I’m happy,” Ochako said, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks.

Todoroki nodded. “Let’s go.”

Ochako cracked open the door, peeking into a dark room, seeing Midoriya laying face down into one of his pillows, not hearing them creep in. 

As soon as Todoroki and Iida were in the room Ochako flicked on the light, shocking Midoriya as he sat up from the sudden light flooding his room, looking around to see his best friends standing right beside his bed.

“Wh-Why are you all in here? I just wanna be alone…” Midoriya muttered, clutching the pillow that sat next to him. 

“I’m afraid we can’t do that, Midoriya,” Iida said, smiling warmly down at him. “We can’t let our friend stay gloomy like this and not do anything.”

Todoroki and Ochako nodded. Midoriya looked away from them.

“I’m not gloomy, I just have a lot on my mind,”

“Which is why we’re here to help!” Ochako said cheerfully, holding up her hands, wiggling her fingers at Midoriya, who looked at her with a confused expression on his face.

“Iida, would you kindly get his arms?”

“Wha-?!”

Before Midoriya could react, Iida stood right by his head, grabbing his wrists and holding them against the headboard, Ochako jumping on the bed and sitting on his legs as Todoroki straddled his hips, all of them pinning Midoriya down completely.

“What are you guys doing? Let me go!” Midoriya cried out, wiggling as much as he could with all three of his friends currently having him pinned to the bed.

“We’ll let you go as soon as you’re cheered up, ‘kay?” Ochako quipped, settling her hands on Midoriya’s knees, Todoroki lowering his hands towards Midoriya’s tummy as he finally realized exactly what was happening.

“No! Not that! Anything but thahahahahahat, nooo!” Midoriya giggled when Ochako finally squeezed his knees, Todoroki’s hands descending on his tummy, wiggling with vigor against Midoriya’s thin T-Shirt.

Midoriya arched his back, squealing with laughter as tingly sensations shot up his body, wiggling around uselessly in a way to stop the tickling. He squeezed his eyes shut as he laughed loudly, tugging at his arms that Iida held firm above his head with both hands.

“Tickle, tickle, Deku!” Ochako teased, reaching her hands under Midoriya’s knees and scratching her fingers against the sensitive skin, making him squeak and giggle.

Todoroki stared at him completely blank-faced, focused on his hands as he tickled him oddly symmetrically on his tummy, expanding to his sides before going right back to his tum.

“Wahahahahait! Pffthaahahahahahahaha no more!” Midoriya begged, shaking his head from side to side as he cackled, Todoroki now drumming his fingers along Midoriya’s ribs. Midoriya twisted away from Todoroki’s fingers as much as he could, but with his limited mobility and Todoroki easily following him with every movement, it proved rather difficult.

“Are you feeling better yet, Midoriya?” Iida asked from beside him, the sincerity in his voice as Midoriya was being tickled to death was so funny to him it only made him laugh more as he shook his head.

“NAHahaahahaha! Pl-Plehehehehease, no mohohore!” Midoriya spluttered, gasping between his laughter as Ochako began to wiggle her fingers against Midoriya’s socked sole, who quickly gasped, laughing louder than before, trying to kick his legs around as much as he could.

“Iida, wanna join in?” Ochako yelled over Midoriya’s screaming laughter. Iida pondered for a moment, passing both of Midoriya’s wrists into one hand as he used the other to scribble around his underarm, Midoriya arching his back as he screeched, hurting Iida’s ears slightly as he continued to work his dextrous fingers in one of Midoriya’s worst spots.

Ochako continued to tickle Midoriya’s poor feet, Todoroki kneading Midoriya’s sensitive hips as Iida awkwardly prodded around Midoriya’s underarm, it was so overwhelming.

“PLEHEHEHEASE! Ahhh! Ahhahaahahaha, nohohohohoho!” Midoriya squealed.

He felt his cheeks burn, both from smiling widely as laughter poured from his mouth and because he was slightly embarrassed. It wasn’t every day you were tickled to pieces by people you care about, and Midoriya was sure they wouldn’t let up anytime soon.

He felt tears prick the corner of his eyes, which quickly spilled out as tears of laughter draped his cheeks, Midoriya still shaking his head from side to side.

“WahahahahahAHAHA!!” He screamed, at a point where he was no longer able to formulate words, cackling like a madman as his throat became hoarse.

Todoroki soon picked up on this, slowing his tickling to merely rubbing tiny circles on Midoriya’s tummy with his thumbs. Midoriya’s laughter died down, dissolving into silent laughter as he weakly struggled against the tickles, small hiccups of a giggle occasionally slipping through. 

Ochako halted her tickling as well, right after Iida let go of Midoriya to tap on Ochako’s shoulder, letting him know that Midoriya had had more than enough. 

Midoriya wheezed, desperately gasping for breath as he rubbed his forearm against his face, wiping away his tears and a small trickle of drool that had escaped his lips. 

“Wh-Whahahat was that for?” He gasped out, some stray giggles still lingering as he panted heavily. 

“We wanted to cheer you up!” Ochako said gleefully, hopping off of Midoriya’s legs and sitting on the side of the bed, Todoroki following.

“You did this to me one time, I figured it would work on you too,” He shrugged.

Midoriya smiled brightly up at his friends.

“Thank you guys, really. I was feeling so down, I didn’t know what to do, but you guys really helped,” He said softly.

He was met with a quick hug from Ochako, who squeezed out all of his recovered oxygen as he wheezed but still reciprocated the hug from Ochako. Todoroki and Iida soon joined the hug as well, Midoriya chuckling to himself in the middle.

“I love you guys,”

[turningtummyrubs]

Hey if your comfortable can you write a fic where Bakugou Katsuki has to deal with the consequences of overeating?

Sure! Normally I would stick with my OCs but I love MHA so I’ll take any chance to write them haha

I wrote Deku as the caretaker so I hope that’s okay :))

cw: excessive swearing, like a lot; minor nausea

———

“That fucking sleepy-ass caterpillar and his fucking rules,” Bakugou grumbles, shoving curry into his mouth. It’s, of course, scalding hot and so spicy it would completely annihilate a normal person’s tastebuds. To Bakugou, it’s mildly seasoned. “‘Don’t blow people up!’ Shut the fuck up, I do what I want. If I wanna blast Grape Juice to pieces, I’ll fucking do it.”

The others can vaguely hear his obscene ranting from their rooms, all having decided it would be smart not to interfere in their shared kitchen while he’s in one of his moods. Kirishima and Kaminari wallow morosely in their beds. The Gatorade’s in the fridge and neither of them are willing to brave Bakugou Katsuki’s storm in order to reach it.

Bakugou gets up to refill his bowl again from the big pot on the stove and feels his stomach lurch in tandem with the ladle scraping against the bottom of the pot. He must’ve eaten it all in a rage without noticing.

He looks down at his usually toned belly and finds it protruding slightly, pushing against the waistband of his sweats. He groans at the realization that he’s definitely going to be having a pretty bad stomach ache soon. The harsh, spicy chili peppers don’t taste like much to him, but they still really fuck with his organs if taken in large doses. This definitely counts as a “large dose.”

Bakugou decides to head upstairs to his room but the moment he takes a step a dizzying wave of lightheadedness fills his skull with static and he drops heavily into the nearest chair, blinking against the colorful spots assaulting his vision.

The only sensation he can focus on is the sudden wrenching pain swirling through his belly—a sort of irritated churning like something’s gnawing at his stomach lining. He places a hesitant palm on his stomach, lightly rubbing up and down his middle, but the touch is completely overshadowed by the hot ache creeping through every inch of his tummy. He knows if he presses harder it will stir up all the curry and incite another dizzying spell of pain. It’s really a lose-lose situation all the way around.

Oh, God, he really wishes he hadn’t eaten so much. The curry was so thick and heavy, too, filled with chunks of chewy, rich meat and alarmingly flavorful spices. Of all the things to accidentally gorge yourself on, that might just be one of the worst. Bakugou grits his teeth and rises to his feet, a hand cradling the side of his distended gut. The soupy food sloshes in a wave of heat and laps painfully at the sides of his stomach.

The heavy food rolls and twists like an agonizing rollercoaster in his belly as he walks up the stairs to his room. A low, twisting grumble squeezes through the tightest part of his tummy as he pushes open the door, and he presses a hand in over the spasming, tense spot as he near collapses onto his bed with a heavy groan.

Bakugou shifts until he’s lying flat on his back, knees drawn up slightly, and grunts at the heavy weight of his belly. He rubs gentle circles into the tight sides of his bloated stomach. The food stretches and pushes at the taut surface of his belly. Angry, harsh gurgles accompany the incessant turning and contorting.

“This is so fucking shitty,” Bakugou grumbles, anger levels rising. As his emotions peak and sway dangerously, so does his belly as the distress further mangles his seething guts.

The rubbing seems to be hurting more than helping so he quits while he’s ahead and instead simply rests both hands atop the aching crest, trying desperately to breathe through the steadily intensifying pain.

He props himself up on an elbow, teeth clenched, and forces himself into a sitting position, bracing his hands against his knees as something forcefully stabs deep in his belly. He just needs to reach the fucking heating pad. That’s it.

Bakugou places a hand against the wall and stands all at once. He gasps immediately as the curdling food tries to squeeze its way up his constricting throat. He gulps back the heavy mouthfuls of saliva warning him he’s moments away from getting sick all over his bedroom floor. He closes his eyes and leans heavily against the wall, moaning low in his throat as his stomach seizes and clenches with nauseating ferocity.

“Fucking fuck,” he mutters before pushing off the wall and grabbing the heating pad off his shelf in a single fluid motion. He usually uses it when he’s sore from training, but it should do the trick.

He plugs it into the socket at the foot of his bed and gingerly lies back down. He rests the heating pad over his rumbling upper belly where the brunt of the food seems to have collected, stubbornly refusing to properly digest. The low heat pulses in his convulsing muscles, somewhat easing the fitful cramps.

He closes his eyes, a pained crease still permanently etched between his brows, and rests his hands over his chest, trying to doze off and sleep away the worst of the stomach ache.

He sighs deeply after ten minutes pass and the throbbing, cramping sensation doesn’t seem to be letting up. He’s just about ready to yell fuck it and call his fucking mom or something like a loser extra when he hears a soft knock at his door.

He sits up with a grunt, muffling a string of his trademark curses. “What do you want?” If it’s one of those fucking extras trying to get me to cook them something...

“Um... n-nothing? Just to talk to you...”

Bakugou frowns. It’s the fucking nerd. “Go the fuck away, Deku.”

Deku sighs lengthily and Bakugou hears him lean his weight against the door. “Please, Kacchan?”

Bakugou contemplates for a moment. He’s in a lot of pain and the thought of having to deal with people is disgusting. But... Deku isn’t really people, is he? And, though he loathes to admit it, a little company right now would be nice.

He stands up with a heaving sigh and unlocks the door. Deku stumbles in, cheeks as pink as ever and hair a mess. He looks up, opens his mouth as if to say something, closes it, then opens it again. “Kacchan, you look horrible.”

Bakugou scowls, sitting down on the bed and discreetly palming his stomach. The contents spin and whirl inside of him, traveling up and down his stomach in dizzying circles in their effort to find a way out. “Fuckin’ thanks, Deku.”

Deku’s face goes bright red as he begins to wave his hands around in front of him in a panic. “No! That’s not what I meant. I just meant you look... sick maybe?”

Bakugou lazily flicks his gaze towards the furiously blushing boy. “Why are you here?”

Deku sits down beside him. “I just wanted to check up on you. You seemed pretty frustrated earlier.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Bakugou snarls.

Deku, in an uncharacteristic show of exasperation, rolls his eyes. “Really, Kacchan?”

Bakugou moves to retort but a fresh cramp suddenly spreads tight across his lower stomach, blooming with harsh pain, and what comes out instead is a strained gasp.

Deku’s eyes go wide and he instantly reaches a hand out and gently places it on Bakugou’s shoulder. Bakugou hates that he... doesn’t mind the comforting warmth.

“I’m fucking fine, Deku,” Bakugou grits out, wrapping an arm tight around his painfully bloated belly.

“I never said you weren’t,” Deku says with infuriating calm. “But, of course, I can’t help if there’s nothing wrong.”

“And who says you could help in the first place?”

Deku just stares at him.

Bakugou sighs and, face burning, mutters, “My stomach hurts.”

Deku’s face softens as he drags a hand up Bakugou’s trembling back. “Why don’t you lie down? Do you want me to go get you some tea?”

Bakugou does lie down, though only to hide the humiliating glistening to his eyes at Deku’s painfully gentle voice. Fucking Deku.

“I’ll puke all over you if I drink anything, Deku,” Bakugou forces out, voice scratchy and hoarse. His organs spasm and squeeze as the curry curdles through them in an agonizingly slow manner. A small portion of the thick substance empties into his intestines and keeling, liquidly gurgles begin to burble with nauseating intensity from his cramping insides.

Deku smooths down the waistband of Bakugou’s sweatpants and his newly freed belly curves out over his hips, intensely bloated. Bakugou groans softly as Deku rubs a light circle into the center of his distended middle with his fingertips. 

He presses his palm in over a heavy gurgle and the heady warmth soothes the rapidly twitching muscles. Bakugou sags a bit with relief as Deku shifts the heel of his palm in and up and a low belch rumbles out of him. His tummy softens a bit at the release of air and Deku’s hand dips further down into the soft flesh of his stomach.

Deku continues to massage at the fullness with a pressure that’s almost agonizing in its gentleness. He coaxes up a few more relieving belches and works away the cramps with a heavy slide of his palm.

By the time he’s done, Bakugou’s eyes have slipped shut and his breaths have gone slightly shuddery—broken up by the occasional sigh as something begins to digest properly. 

Deku finishes with one last gentle circle at the base of the fading swell and Bakugou practically purrs. He’s too out of it to focus on the fact that he’s going to fucking hate himself for this in the morning. Oh, well.

[gojosgoddess]

Carpet Burn

Pairing: Jonathan Lyndale “DaBaby” Kirk x Black! Thicc reader

A/N: Hello again guys!! I wanted to kind of make a continuation to Finally but you don’t’ have to read it before reading this one. I was re-watching his music videos and remembered how funny Carpet Burn was so I imagined if the girl in the video was his girl AKA you. Enjoy my gorgeous sister.

Warnings: NSFW (18+), Smut, Thick Reader, Regular Nasty Nasty, unprotected sex (Don’t be silly, wrap that willy)

Jon was crazy. You were a 100% certain that Jon was insane. But damn you love this fool. Here you were in a sexy black teddy, putting on your makeup and waiting for Jon to tell you that you were about to start filming.

You see, Jon thought up this brilliant idea to recreate the whole Cam Coldheart situation. He sat you down and explained the entire video which made you two crack up laughing to the point where your stomach hurt. And his bright idea? Add his gorgeous fiancé in the video.

You were going to film the backyard scene first where you’d basically be frolicking and rubbing up on each other, while you wore a sexy black bikini and he wore his overalls.  

Your thoughts were interrupted when a knock came at the door and your man poked his head through the door with a grin on his face.

“Hey Babygirl.” He said in his deep, low voice making you smile at him. “Hi Baby.” You responded as he walked further into the room and closed the door. He dramatically leaned against the door and licked his lips while looking over your figure.

“Where your fine ass think you goin’? Looking like a full course meal, just waiting to devoured?!” He said before rushing towards you and playfully nibbling on your neck, causing you to giggle and lean into him.

“Baby come on now, you wanted me to look nice for your video so I just did what Daddy told me to do.” You said sweetly. He stopped nibbling to slowly look into your eyes. “Don’t you be starting something, you can’t finish. I will tear this ass up. Right now. Don’t play me.” He growled, holding you tighter and grinding his seemingly hard dick into your core making you bite his lip and purr.

“YO!! Y/N! JON! Come on out y’all, we ready to film!!” We heard Reel yell out. Jon completely ignored him and started sucking on your neck making you arch your back as he got to your spot that made your toes curl. You tapped his shoulder making him look up at you.

“Baby, we need to go film your music video for your song about the time we fucked on the floor in the living room cause we couldn’t make it to the bedroom.” You said, lightly tracing his lips. He groaned out loud, rolling his eyes and bit his lip.

“Aight Mama, but Imma get in that ass as soon as the shoot is over.” He smacked your ass before walking out, leaving you in shock. He laughed at your shocked face. “Come on my Nubian queen.” He walked out and you shook your head, following him.

“I’m gone make this hell for him.” You thought and smirked to yourself. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To say Jon was horny and pissed, was a complete understatement. When he said he was going to tear your ass up, he was going to. Tear. Your. Ass. Up.

You were constantly rubbing on his dick, grinding up on him, even twerked on him once during the pool chair scene which made him had to call cut and go to the bathroom for a few minutes. You smiled as your plan to get dick was coming together.

We were now filming the final scene where we were laid up on the carpet with a blanket draped over us. You had changed into a little black teddy that accentuated your curves to the point where you looked like race car track.

 “Yessss sir.” He acted while you were rubbing on his chest as he smoked a blunt. “Oh no Daddy, I think you gave me carpet burn.” You said with a pout as he smiled at you. “Cause I was dropping it off. Dropping it off. Like uh, uh,uh.” He laughed while thrusting his hips up making you immediately look at crotch and bite your lip at the dick print that was showing through the blanket.

Reel called cut and Jon changed into that fat suit for the next scene where he played Cam Coldheart, making you giggle at him while he did wild ass poses to make you laugh. “This boy a fool.” You thought fondly to yourself.

As soon as the shoot was over, everyone clapped while you smoothed over the sheets as you were still on the floor. Jon ripped off the wig and took off the fat suit and ordered everybody to get the hell out of the house. As soon as everyone was out, he locked the door and practically flew to you.

“So you thought you was cute, huh? Teasing me with that big ass, rubbing your titties all on me…you must not want to walk tomorrow huh?” He asked, pulling your hair so you looked up at him, “Babygirl, you better answer me.” He said sternly.

“Yes Daddy!” You moaned out. He smiled and released your hair before laying down next to you and spreading out his legs. “Well you gone get what you wanted baby, but you gone work for it first.” He said gesturing down to his dick. You smiled excitedly before moving down and releasing his dick from his briefs.

You always got excited about giving Jon head. His dick was long, thick yet just the right size for you. You swirled your tongue on his head making him suck in a breath before you slid him deep down your throat. “Oh, goddamn girl, you tryna snatch my soul.” He said in a strained voice while you looked up at him sexily. You loved the fact that he was so vocal during sex, there wasn’t anything sexier than a man who wasn’t afraid of moaning and groaning in your ear.

You hollowed out your cheeks and sucked him deeper and jerking what couldn’t fit in your mouth. He groaned out loud and tucked your hair behind your ear so he could see you take his dick in your mouth. “Yeah Babygirl, take Daddy’s dick in that throat.” He growled making a waterfall appear in your teddy. You deepthroated him and while still maintaining the suction force causing his eyes to damn near roll his eyes into his head.

You continued your motion, going deeper and sucking harder till he pulled your mouth off him. “Baby I’m finna cum if you keep on throating my dick like that. I want to cum in that pussy now lay your ass down.” He said in a deep breath. You smirked to yourself, proud about your head skills while he muttered to himself. “Damn girl tryna suck the soul out my dick.” You both laughed at him before he brought you into a passionate kiss and laying you down.

He got on top of you, never breaking the kiss while unclipping the top of your teddy and sliding down the straps before pulling the rest of it down your body. Your legs slipped out of the leg holes while he bit your bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth.

His sensual kisses moved down from your lips, to your neck where he marked your neck with hickies and nicked at the skin with little bites, making you quickly jump and him chuckle on your skin. He caressed your breasts while littering them also with hickies and sucking on your nipples with a hungry vigour. You moaned as he basically french kissed your nipples with his sexy lips. The list of sinful things this man could do with his mouth is endless.

His mouth travelled lower as he peppered kisses all over your soft tummy while lovingly rubbing on your rolls that he made sure to adore, appreciate and love every single time you two were together. He then licked a trail from your bellybutton to your navel before picking up your glorious thighs and placing them up on his shoulder. He looked you straight in your eye with lust before sucking your clit into his mouth and swirling his tongue. This man really tryna take your soul now.

It was your turn for your eyes to roll to the back of your head as he licked and sucked on your clit while fingering you. This man had your back arched as if you were possessed and all this time, he kept his eyes on you, watching your reaction and smirking every time you let out a scream of pleasure. At this point, your G-spot became a rest spot for the tips of his two fingers. At this point the pleasure was starting to override you and your body started to shake as your orgasm was fast approaching. Suddenly, he tore his lips and fingers from you before licking his lips and fingers.

“Goddamn girl, you taste good. You got that sweet gushy gushy for Daddy.” He said before laying on top of you. “I want you to cum on this dick.” He said before kissing you and wrapping your thick thighs around his waist. Though mad as hell that your orgasm was taken away from you, you kissed him back passionately and wrapped your arms around his back.

He tore away from your lips and looked you in your eyes before slowly slidinghis dick in your pussy making you close your eyes and sigh in relief.

“Ooh shit Daddy.” “Damn.” You both said in each other’s face. You smiled at him before he put his hand on your throat and squeezed while he started dishing out delicious thrusts. Your moans were cut short when he kissed you again. You moaned into his mouth as he grunted in yours. Your booty was rubbing against the carpet which would’ve made you stop but just like the first time, the dick was too A1 and perfect for you to ask him to stop.

He tore his lips away from yours to lean up and start delivering fast yet deep strokes. He tightened his hold on your neck as you tightened your grip on his dick. Your eyes went cross eyed and your toes curled as your first orgasm came and your practically exploded on his dick. You started to shake as he continued to give light thrusts to ride you through your orgasm. He waited for you to calm down before he pulled out and tapped his dick on your clit to make your body shake like you got electrocuted.

“Oh, I ain’t done with that ass Baby, come on now, face down, ass up.” He said licking his lips. You were still sensitive but you turned over and assumed the position. He got behind you and rubbed your ass.

“Hmm, the pussy good it had me stalking her.” He sang a lyric from his song before thrusting deep inside again. He propped his one leg up in a crunch position and started destroying that pussy. He pulled your hand with one hand and delivered harsh smacks to your ass adding on to the sensation.

“You gone tease me like that huh?! You gone shove that ass in my face with all those people staring?! You gone give Daddy his pussy like he deserves?!?” He asked, not once stopping his thrusts. Your eyes rolled over in your head as your head as practically shoved into the carpet. He grew angry and grabbed your hair and pulled you up towards him. “You gone fucking answer my questions!”

“Yes, yes, yes Daddy!!!” You yelled as you utterly felt your guts being arranged and your knees getting some carpet burn. “Ooh Daddy don’t stop!!” You moaned as your eyes crossed again and you felt that familiar tug at in your stomach. He released your hair and softly laid your upper body on the ground before he roughly took your wrists in his hands and thrusted even harder.

“Cum on this dick again Babygirl!! Drench my shit baby. Make a waterfall on this dick.” He said lowly knowing what his voice can do to you. And that seemed to the last straw as he gave one last hard thrust and both your bodies shook as you came.

“Oh Daddy!! Oh, right there, right there!! Daddy I’m cumming!!!” “Back that ass up on me ma, I’m finna cum right. Fucking. Now. Shittt!!! Babygirl!!!” You both said to each other as he filled you up and you drenched his lower abdomen and thighs.

He slipped out of you before he laid down next to you and laid you on his chest.

“I can’t believe I let your PT cruiser head ass give me carpet burn again.” You said breathily in shock. You laughed at his face as he looked at you shocked and tried to hide his laughter. “Babygirl…fuck you.” He said before laughing and playfully biting your round cheek. You laughed again before staring at his gorgeous face and lightly touching his adorable dimples.

“I love you Baby.” You said smiling at him. He softly pecked your lips. “I love you too Mama, more than you gone ever know.”

“Now lemme pick your thick ass up and get up out of this white people’s house ‘fore they come back.” He said making you both laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hope you gorgeous goddesses like this one, I just had to do this because this man and his songs do something to me sometimes. Again, my ask box is open whether you want to talk about something or request something, as well as my messages. See y’all later and please stay safe my loves.

~Natascha

[mysweetestcreature]

Meus Amor (Hogwarts!Harry) Part V

(Banner by the lovely @pretty-hazza)

***

Series Masterlist

***

The moment her feet land on the hardwood floor of the unfamiliar flat that smells vaguely of a mixture of disinfectant and eucalyptus, there’s a feeling of queasiness starting in the pit of Y/n’s belly. Her awkward footing leaves her to stumble out of balance until she ends up with her back against the wall, breathing heavily as she tries to tie the last five minutes together into something she can only hope to understand. Her head is spinning, and every possible worst-case scenario reels in her head and flashes before her eyes like an untimely vision of bereavement. There are so many questions she has, but the fears that have settled within her are almost unbearable. Y/n feels the hot tears burn behind her irises as she tries hard to blink them away. Where was Harry? Why hadn’t he come with them after the attack? The image she remembers before getting lost in the haze of apparition was the wanton black smoke that surrounded his body like a veil of smooth silk. 

“You’ll be safe here, don’t worry.” Her eyes slowly rise from staring at the spaces between the floorboards to the girl who had brought her here. Gemma offers her a small smile and reaches forwards to rub up and down her arm as if it would make the uneasiness in Y/n’s chest feel any less constrictive. She doesn’t dare move but allows her head to pan around the room and study each detail as though she would be tested on it at a later time. There are a number of books stacked neatly by size on the mahogany coffee table in the middle of two white leather couches that face each other. In the corner right by the window is one of Gemma’s uniforms being repaired by an enchanted needle and thread beside a laundry basket of freshly washed clothes and sheets. Along the walls are pictures of the Styles family; their faces full of glee and fulfillment as they flash their blinding smiles to the photographer before succumbing to their fits of laughter.

“Make yourself at home!” Gemma exclaims as she quickly jogs and disappears into the hallway. “I’m just going to set up the guest room. It’s been ages since I’ve had company.” A small chuckle reaches Y/n’s ears, and she forces down the lump in her throat and wills herself to think calmer thoughts. Suddenly there’s a sharp pain in her lower abdomen that’s like being struck with thousands of thorns from the inside. She slides down the wall and gasps for breath and hunches forward and wraps her arms around her stomach as the hostile burning agitates her entire being.

“It-it hurts,” she chokes out. Gemma is at her side in an instant, talking her through breathing exercises and rubbing her back as soothingly as possible. This is worse than having been struck with the Cruciatus curse, much worse. “I... I need Harry. P-Please I need Harry,” She starts sobbing on the floor and calling out her boyfriend’s name, praying to Merlin that he’ll appear in front of her and make this unwelcomed feeling go away like he always does with just the touch of his hand to her cheek.

“Honey, I need you to take deep breaths, alright? In through your nose...that’s it. Just keep doing that. You’ll be okay,” Gemma coaches. She frantically grabs her wand from her back pocket and mutters the summoning charm. A clear bottle with vibrant purple liquid comes hurdling through the air and lands perfectly in Gemma’s hand. She unplugs the cork––the loud popping noise enough to take Y/n’s mind off the throbbing for a split second––and holds it up to Y/n’s mouth. “Drink this.” Y/n looks at her through the tears rimmed around her eyes, her shaking hand grasping the neck of the glass and guiding the sparkling liquid to her lips. 

It washes down her throat like running water, and she can feel it settle in her gut and boil like piping lava. The potion leaves an aftertaste on her tongue, like sparkling grape juice served within a minute before the start of a new year. Starting from ten, she counts backwards with her eyes shut tight as the feeling of anguish diminishes to nothing more than an afterthought. She peels her lids apart and looks up at Gemma, the healer’s stare narrowed in on her stomach as her lips wrap expertly around words that Y/n has never come across before with the tip of her wand aimed directly to her skin. 

A luminous white band emits from the wand and wraps around her and tickles her midsection, and her tummy starts to flutter lightly before a calming warmth sinks in and the rest of her nerves seem to relax into the feeling. That’s all she can make out before the room fades to black.

***

Harry chases the unknown assailant miles above the ground and far away from the initial attack. All he can see is red and he’s almost certain that there’s actual steam pushing out from his ears. How could he have been so negligent? He hadn’t noticed a fucking death eater tailing them around Diagon Alley. It’s not that he expects these assholes to play fair, but the welfare of his family had been his only plea when it came down to being plagued with the skull and serpent on his arm. 

Oh gods, his heart beats erratically as the worry sets in. The look on Y/n’s face as he had backed away from her and urged her into his sister’s hold is all he can see with the force of the wind stinging his eyes. She looked so scared and he just wishes he could be there to hold her and whisper his pledge of protection from all the evil that his world has brought upon them. All he can hope for right now is that his girl and their baby are in good health because he swears on Salazar’s name that he won’t be able to suppress this impulsive darkness he feels has grown within him and prickles in his fingertips in just a matter of minutes. But he’ll try to fight it as long as he can, he needs to be the man that Y/n deserves. It’s proving difficult, however, as he already feels the boiling of his blood scorch his veins when a malicious smirk is sent his way in the most taunting manner. With his wand aimed on the shadowy figure in front of him, he yells out a curse that petrifies the death eater’s body and sends him plummeting to the ground in the endless landscape of green flora found on the outskirts of the city. 

He follows behind closely and descends in the relative area where the other man had fallen. There, he finds the body frigid as it lays on the dirt completely powerless. Harry steps closer to him, his fists tight and nails digging deep crescents into his palms, ready to break this guy’s jaw if presented the opportunity. 

“I ought to curse your life away for that stunt you pulled,” he begins, sliding the wand out of the man’s front pocket and breaks it like a scanty twig on his bended knee. “But I won’t become like you lot. So just listen to my words carefully. My girl stays out of this. Or else that wand won’t be the last thing I snap.” His voice carries a tone so low and frightening that for a second, he can barely recognize it as belonging to him. He picks the death eater up by the collar, his toes barely scraping against the pebbles on the ground. Harry mumbles the counter curse under his breath, and he watches as the man desperately gasps for air. 

“Yaxley told me you’d be difficult,” the death eater chuckles in a way that makes Harry’s teeth clench, “but he didn’t tell me that you’d break my wand. Now that was just was uncalled for.” He looks with false sadness down at broken piece of wood, only to be replaced with another one of his smirks. “The name’s Zayn by the way. Big fan.” 

“I don’t care what your name is,” Harry says harshly, then throws...Zayn to the ground with a loud thump. He turns around and presses the heel of his palms to his eyes and lets out an infuriated growl. “Just tell me what the fuck he wants now.” 

How many more lives am I meant to destroy?

The guilt from having been involved in the assassination of Professor Albus Dumbledore still makes him nauseous, even though the elderly man had tried to discourage him from blaming himself. (And the entire situation still troubles Harry because Dumbledore had known about the attempt on his life, yet he still allowed for everything to unfold.) He traces the metal band on his finger and prays that regardless of what happens next, she’ll still love him because he’s sure that he can’t live without her.

Zayn lifts himself up and makes little attempt to dust the dirt from his fitted trousers before taking a step closer to Harry. His deep brown eyes penetrating Harry’s green ones in an intense lock that could make an entire population turn to stone. Now that he’s had a good look at him, something about the dark-haired man in front of him looks vaguely familiar.

“Voldemort.”

All Harry can do is lift an unamused eyebrow as he looks to the left and right of them. He’s met with nothing but trees that stretch miles and miles in both directions and the chirping of birds in the branches. Is something meant to happen? 

A pop suddenly sounds from behind him, his body stiffens up as he turns his head to the side where he sees a silhouette stretching towards him the light of the setting sun. He lets out defeated sigh before he feels a pair of hands on his shoulders before the forest vanishes in front of him. 

***

Malfoy Manor is dark. Gloomy and malevolent, depending on who it you’re asking. Its Victorian style architecture offers the impression that maybe a king or someone of high nobility must preside somewhere within the mountain-high exterior. Harry’s been inside at least a dozen––maybe even more––times, mostly in his earlier years during the holidays for the Malfoy’s famous New Year’s Eve parties where he and Niall would sneak a bottle of fire whiskey and drink it in Narcissa’s prized rose garden. 

Yet the last time he had been here had probably been the most memorable, and not for the enjoyment of getting pissed off his arse and trying to avoid getting stuck under the mistletoe with Pansy or Daphne. The last time Harry had been here, it was during his initiation that has left him with the mark even uglier than a scar that inevitably signed his life away.

His left arm tingles the closer he walks to the grand dining room, and when he looks down, he can see the serpent slithering about on his skin. Two other death eaters are on either side of him as though blocking him in in the chance that he’ll flee. Both are dressed in long black robes and shiny ebony shoes with heels that sound with each one of their heavy steps. Zayn walks in front, guiding them deeper into the core of the manor. It’s funny though, when he thinks deeply about this. Not to say that he finds the entire thing humorous––his girlfriend and sister were almost harmed by flying shards glass for crying out loud––but one must laugh when considering the dramatics of the day. 

“I suppose this isn’t an invitation for tea,” Harry snorts, unable to hide his mild amusement.

Zayn makes a noise, as if fighting off a laugh. “Can’t say it is, but maybe once this is all over the Dark Lord will buy us all a pint, yeah?” He looks over his shoulder and wriggles his eyebrows in a playful manner. 

A voice clears itself as they reach the doors where the meeting is to take place. They’re greeted with cold steel grey eyes, lips held in a thin line, and the once slicked back platinum blonde hair is as disheveled as a madman’s thoughts. It’s only been a few months since Harry’s last seen him, but it’s as though Draco has aged years before his time

There’s a look Draco gives him, one that injects an unsettling feeling into the back of his neck. He pushes down on the doorknob behind him and walks backwards to open it up all the way. They file into the room one by one, and Harry stops for just a second as he and Draco’s eyes meet as he passes him. It’s just long enough for him to catch a look of bitter remorse, one to only mirror his own. 

Harry enters to find a long decadent table, each chair seating a death eater, most of whom he’s encountered at least once in the past. At the very head of the table is the Dark Lord, his sharp yellow teeth on full display as he welcomes the newly arrived to the meeting. 

“Harry, my boy! So glad you could join us this evening,” he gushes, then signals to the empty seat two down to his right next to Snape. Harry swallows hard but wills himself over to his assigned spot. Snape gives him a sideways glance as he sits down uncomfortably, and from a few places over he can hear Lucius Malfoy gasp in appalment and mutter something to his wife. This is odd, even given his circumstances. To be seated so close to the Dark Lord signifies an authority over those that sit below him. 

“My Lord, if you will,” Lucius speaks up. “I think it is inappropriate for the Styles boy to be seated so far up above esteemed death eaters,” he explains hurriedly. “He’s involved with the daughter of an auror.”

“Now, now, Lucius. We mustn’t judge Harry for being young, hmm?” Voldemort responds, pushing out of his chair and walking around the right. His hand traces the back frames of each of the seats until he stops at Lucius’. “And besides, Severus has told me how vital he had been to the mastery of the connection between cabinets, one that Draco couldn’t achieve on his own.” The last part is tutted out with a deceitful tone, and it ultimately shuts the older Malfoy up. “Now, that we’ve cleared that up,” Voldemort begins, a dark laugh leaving the pit of his throat, “I believe it’s time we-”

The doors sound loudly against the walls, and all seated heads crane their necks towards the wide-open threshold. At first, Voldemort looks peeved. No one in their sane mind would dare interrupt the Dark Lord mid-sentence. However, the moment a man hooded with a burnt green cloak steps out of the shadows, Voldemort’s rotting teeth spread wide in a pleased grin.

Harry’s eyes narrow into the darkened hallway that encompasses the hooded figure. His heartrate quickens as the soles of his shoes heavily pound against the polished floor like mini earthquakes. His hands reach up and grasp his hood, the material scrunching between his fingers as he flips it back to reveal a tired face with deep wrinkles settled in the once youthful skin. 

“No...” Harry whispers disbelievingly to himself, his body being drained of all its color as he takes time to process the image of his father. 

*** They all stand and bow as the Dark Lords makes his grand exit, Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius following closely behind him like a swarm of bees. The room quickly fills up with secluded conversations all discussing the same topic. Harry keeps to himself, as the variation of sneers and boastful remarks all mesh together as they enter through his ears. His jaw muscle aches under the severe clenching of his back molars. 

Instantly does he feel the regret simmer through him. He’d known that the previous mission would not be his last, but he never thought he’d ever have to go into full-blown combat against the DA. War means only one thing, and he vowed that he’d never do it again.  

From the corner of his eye, he can see someone approaching him. He pulls his hand into a tight fist by his side before coming face to face with him. His father looks at him, stopping just a few feet from where he stands. Getting a closer look, Harry is able to briefly study the dullness in his irises and the way his features pull downwards in a seemingly permanent frown. Yet, the man has the audacity to look him straight in the eyes and smile as though he hadn’t ruined his life. 

“Son,” his father breathes as though he had been holding it in for hours, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pulling him in for an awkward embrace. Harry remains frozen, the foreign feeling burning through his clothes and leaving his skin to swelter. He blinks a few times, hoping to bite back the feelings that have just unearthed after months of suppression. 

He backs away, shaking his head. “You don’t get to call me that anymore.” His voice is hard. Desmond looks at him incredulously, and it stirs something within Harry. “What? You thought you could just waltz back into our lives like nothing in the past year happened?” he says bitterly. He makes his way towards the exit, shooting is father a look before disappearing into the hallway.   “Harry don’t be so juvenile,” Des reprimands as he follows him out the door, but Harry just scoffs as he continues navigating through the maze of the manor. Him? Childish? It wasn’t him who abandoned his family in favor of someone made with every inch of vileness. 

Suddenly, he’s being forced up against the wall, and his head cracks the glass of a picture frame behind him. The tiredness on his father’s face is replaced with an authoritarian countenance, one that Harry had been exposed so many times before. If before this would’ve scared him, now is different. “I’m still your father, you will show me respect.” 

“Respect.” Harry repeats, shoving Des away into the opposite wall. “What part of you deserves that?” 

*** By the time he makes it to his sister’s flat, Harry’s mind has gone numb and there’s an ache in his back as if he had just fallen off his broom from more than a hundred feet above the ground. His shoulders slump forward as he falls onto one of the white leather couches, his head falling back with his eyes closed as he searches for some sort of relief. He covers his face with his hand, taking long breaths as he tries to calm himself down. The tips of his index finger and thumb settle in the inner corners of his eyes, then drag inwards to pinch at the bridge of his nose. 

“Hey.” He turns his head to see his sister leaning on her side against the wall. 

“Hey.”

Gemma slowly walks over and takes the cushion on his left. At first there’s a silence that surrounds them, with a cloud of unsaid words hanging above them as both stare mindlessly at the photos that adorn the wall across from them. “He’s back,” Harry finally says, a croak coming from deep within him. And as the words reach his ears, he immediately realizes the pain behind each syllable. He leans forward, elbows on his knees and his hands clasp together and knock against his forehead like a sign of prayer.

“You mean-”

“Yes.”

Both remain tight-lipped for the proceeding minutes, but Harry can hear the faintest whimpers sounding from his sister’s throat. He regrets turning to her, the vision of the unsuccessfully suppressed tears glistening in the outer corners of her eyes is enough to break a part of him. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her and bring her to cry on his shoulder as his chin rests atop her hair. His eyes close on their own accord as he listens to her weeps and allows for the emotion he had been holding in, to finally reach the surface.

“I hate him for what he’s done,” Gemma says into her hands. She straightens up and furiously wipes the tears from her cheeks. “He broke us. He broke Mum. I can never forgive him for that.” She stands up and paces back and forth in front of the sofa. Harry nods in agreement but lets his voice stay at rest. “I won’t,” his sister states firmly. Gemma sits back in an armchair to Harry’s left, bringing her knees up and hugging them close to her chest. 

She faces away from him, but he can still hear the continuation of her sorrows that creep into the air. This is far from what he’s used to when it comes to her. As children, she’d been the more understanding out of the two of them. No matter how many times her loved ones had failed her in the past, no matter the shortcomings that may have been, she would find it in her to grant forgiveness. However, seeing her put on such a cold front makes him realize that their family truly is wrecked beyond repair. 

Yes, he’s known this to be fact for quite some time now, but the grief that comes with it never fails to send an ache to spiral beneath his chest. 

***

The sight of her sleeping peacefully on the bed is enough to ease away the tensions in his body and whatever it is that had been constricting his lungs. He closes the door behind him, then makes his way over to her. The bed dips down where he sits, and he leans down to press a long chaste kiss to the side of her mouth as he takes in her sweet and comforting scent. His nerves find peace in having her so close to him again, and he thanks the gods that she escaped to the day completely unscathed. 

It’s then his attention turns to focus on her stomach. His palm gently presses on her clothed skin, and his thumb caresses the slightest swell that he isn’t certain is even there. Yet, he wonders if their baby can feel his touch from inside her sleeping mother. Can she sense his presence? Does she feel the immeasurable love he already has for her?

Y/n begins to fuss beneath him, a mumble of his name lingering on her lips as her eyes adjust to the sudden invasion of light on her pupils. As the blurriness vanishes, she gasps when she sees him beside her.

He smiles down at her, running the back of his finger down her cheek. “Hey, pretty girl.” 

“Oh my god,” she cries, immediately bringing him down and wrapping her arms around him, her hand cupping the back his neck and tangling in his soft brown curls. She hugs him closer to her, afraid that this may be all a dream and reality is just as painful as she had left it. 

He cradles her, content with the feeling of her in his arms after a day of hell. “I’m sorry,” he whispers into her skin. His lips linger on her neck as they continue with their embrace. “I’m so sorry.”

She sniffles softly as she kisses the side of his jaw over and over. “I-I was so scared.” He pulls away just enough to see the worry that paints over her features. Her eyes are glossed over like fragile glass and her nose dusted with a pink flush just at the tip. He runs his thumbs under her eyes and presses his lips to hers. She breathes him in, and the feeling of relief finally washes over her as his tongue swipes along her bottom lip. 

“Shh, I know,” he says, the words passing into her mouth as he maintains the kiss. 

They break apart moments later, and he leans his forehead against hers. His eyes fall lower on her body and his heart pounds with anxiousness when he finally decides that the voice in his head is right. He can’t run from this.

Not anymore. 

Not when he can lose the two most precious things in his life in just a span of a second.

He stares back at her, his mouth pulling down at the ends when he looks right into her eyes. “I need to tell you something.” His voice is shaky and breath uneven as he sits both of them up. 

She looks to him with a curious yet apprehensive expression. Her head tilts slightly. She notices the crease between his brows as he stares down to where his hands find hers to hold. It makes her nervous, and the frightening thoughts from earlier that day come fleeting through her mind once again. 

“I love you both so much.” He presses his mouth to the back of her hands, squeezing them gently. 

Both? She’s sure she had heard him clearly, despite his low and almost inaudible tone. “W-what?” she questions, pulling her hands from his and placing them over her chest as though to protect herself.

“Remember when I went to visit my mum a few weeks ago?” She nods slowly. He swallows hard and forces down whatever it is that’s lodged in his throat. “I found out that...” He puffs out a breath, and a hand rests itself on the curves of her waist, while the other reaches up to cup her cheek. She doesn’t pull away from him this time but doesn’t make the effort to fall into him either. He realizes this, and it gives him that final push to come out with it. “It’s not just the two of us anymore.” 

“I don’t understand.” Her eyebrows furrow as she searches his eyes for an explanation. She watches as his jaw clenches and his eyes falter. She follows them. “What are you trying to say?” Her teeth sink into her bottom lip until it’s pale pink––almost lifeless white shade, and her mouth runs dry the longer he takes his time to respond. 

There’s just no way he can phrase the words without wanting to curse himself and this entirely fucked up life he’s led them into. “Y/n,” he starts, “you’re...” His eyes squeeze shut, and he gathers all the courage he has left. “Pregnant.” The silence that falls between them is unnerving. She sits there with her body frigid, the color draining from her face and blood running cold in her veins. 

A deadpan expression encompasses her features. She stares at him as though he had two heads and had neon orange hair. 

She suddenly rises up from the bed and backs herself up against the wall. With her hands falling down to her belly, she thinks back to all the signs she’d come across these last couple of weeks. It’s then her fingers curl harshly around her shirt. The sound of her knuckles cracking in the dead atmosphere of the room alarms him. “I knew something was wrong.” She shakes her head, then raises her arms and digs her nails into her scalp and pulls on her hair. “I should’ve been able to tell.” 

Harry leaps to his feet and pulls her hands down by her wrists. “Love, no. We’d always used the charm, there’s no way we could’ve ever anticipated this.” Her eyes fall to her feet as she continues to shake her head. She feels pathetic where she stands, and it makes hate himself even more for doing this to her. He wraps his arms around her and holds her tightly. She stays limp, her arms hanging at her sides as she stares emptily over his shoulder.

He feels the heat of her tears on his shirt, and despite her lack of vocal presence, he can hear the sobs escalating within her. It makes him tighten his hold on her because doesn’t know what else to do but keep her close to him and let her that he’s there to for her. 

“Talk to me,” he pleads with her. “Tell what you’re thinking.” He buries his face in the crook of her neck and whispers to her. 

“How’d you know?” she asks meekly.

He sighs heavily. “We have a tapestry out back.” His lips form in a thin line when she lets out a quiet snivel. “I suppose my mum went to look at it at some point, and she––she saw her.” 

She lets his words sink in. Her mind does its best to make sense of it all, but it’s becoming harder and harder to grasp as time passes by them. She doesn’t know whether to be angry that he kept this from her for days, disappointed that she hadn’t sensed it herself, or dare she say excited because she’d always fantasized about the idea of motherhood. It’s all too much for her right now, too many of emotions fighting to prevail over the other, and she fears it’ll have her spiraling into something she can’t control. 

“We...” she forces out. Air collects in Harry’s lungs, but it still feels as though they could collapse. “We’re going to have a baby girl?” she wonders innocently. He allows the corners of his mouth to rise up in a small smile.

“Yeah.” He lets out a light chuckle that releases some of his nervousness. “We are.” Her arms wrap around him and unwinds slightly in his hold. 

“I’m scared,” she admits, mumbling into his shirt.

He nods his head numbly. “So am I.”

***

Dear Mum and Dad,

I know you’re probably worried beyond your wits––and who can blame you? The attack on Diagon Alley was something I never thought would ever happen to me, I guess because you guys have always taken such good care of me all these years. It was like a nightmare that I could only hope I would wake up from. I don’t know how else to describe it.

Please know that I am safe, though! I’m thankful that Harry was able to get us out of the ice cream parlour before the explosion. He’s taking good care of me, and you’ll be happy to know that there’s not a scratch on us...well except for this papercut I just got trying to write this letter!

Gemma, Harry’s sister, said that we can stay here for a few days until things calm down, and we can all regain our strength. I already miss you guys like crazy! This morning I woke up and forgot that I wasn’t at home and the memories of the day before suddenly appeared before my eyes, and all I really wanted to do was hug you both.

Which leads me into something that I need to tell you, but it’s also something I have to do in person. There’s no easy way to begin, especially considering that I myself am still trying to fully come to terms with it. Everything around us seems to be turning to black, but now I feel I have added inspiration to fight through it now; and I know you guys will understand why. 

Until then,

Y/n

She folds the paper up neatly, making sure that the corners are well-aligned before sliding it into an envelope. She walks over to the window where Artemis stands ready for her to tie the letter to her leg. 

“You can get this to Dad, won’t you, girl?” She smiles at the owl as she runs the back of her finger down its head and beak. Her white snowy feathers fluttering slightly as she moves pleasingly against her hand. Y/n takes a treat from her pocket and holds it for her to take, to which the owl greedily scoffs it down. “When you get back, I’ll tell Harry to get you a nice juicy mouse!” Artemis lets out an understanding hoot as she takes off from the window sill. Her wings expand, and Y/n can’t help but stare in awe as she glides through the sky. 

***

“I never got to thank you properly,” Harry says. He stands in the archway, a hand stuffed in his pocket, the other holding a cup freshly brewed coffee. Gemma looks up over the top edge of the Prophet. “For what?” she asks, placing the pile of papers down next to her plate of toast and jam. He takes the chair next to her, placing his mug down on the table and staring down into the hot liquid. He pokes his tongue to his cheek; the sides of porcelain being caressed by the pads of his thumb. 

“You know,” Harry shrugs meekly, lifting his doleful eyes to hers. “For taking care of my girls when I couldn’t be there.” 

His sister’s shoulders fall forward. The expression on her face showing nothing but thoughtfulness as she looks back at him with every bit love. “They’re my family now,” she replies, and gives him a side smile as she reaches over and covers his hand with hers. “I know you would’ve done the same had our situations been reversed.” She squeezes his hand once more, making sure to bestow in him an empathy before returning to her reading. 

They sit there at the breakfast table in a restful pattern. Harry continues to take long sips from his coffee, while Gemma is content with flipping through the pages of moving figures. It continues for some minutes, before he hears her click her tongue against the roof of her mouth. 

He lifts an eyebrow as she folds the paper, and it levitates away to place itself neatly on the stack in the corner of the room. She places her elbows on the table, hands folded and tucked under her chin. She gives him roguish a side glance, her mouth open but without words. 

“What is it?” Harry finally asks.

“Are you going to ever tell her about...you know.”

Harry leans back into his chair, the creaking of its wood is the only thing to fill in the silence that falls between them. Despite staring down into his lap, he can still feel her eyes on him, burning holes into his skull and penetrating deep into his mind. He exhales deeply. “I’m afraid she’ll hate me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“Harry, I’m sure-”

“Gemma,” he cuts her off, running a hand through his hair. “I killed a man.” 

***

Y/n rubs a big circle into the blanket of steam on the bathroom mirror. She studies herself closely, as though expecting for something to be different in the way she looks. Although, she isn’t quite sure what kind of changes to look for. This is a whole new world that’s just opened up before her, and the thought of her and Harry’s child growing inside of her makes her feel an unattainable amount of love in her heart, even in this short amount of time. She’d always wanted to be a mum. Of course, she never expected it to be so soon, but something about it just settles well. 

Her eyes fall onto the reflection of her tummy, and a hand goes to cover it on its own account. “Hi, baby,” she whispers, smiling to herself as she strokes the towel gently with the utmost care. “So, it was you making all those funny things happen all along.” A giggle escapes her. “Already causing mischief like your daddy, aren’t you?” 

She wishes that her baby would do something now, anything to let her know that she can hear the sound of her voice. Harry said she’s just about a month along, so their baby doesn’t have a face on the tapestry just yet. It leaves her in full anticipation and eagerness to know what she’ll look like once she’s here. Part of her still feels guilty for not knowing she’d been in there all this time. Her mum told her that she’d known she was pregnant with her almost immediately, and that had been without the blatant obviousness of what she had been exposed to. 

She readjusts the towel around her chest and steps out into the hallway. The closer she gets to her room, the more she’s able to make out the voices coming from the distance. She stops in front of the bedroom door, and now she can decipher the words being said. 

“Harry, I’m sure-”

“Gemma, I killed a man.” 

It’s like her heart stops mid beat. The air around her becomes harder to breathe in, and she finds herself unable to move. Her breath catches in her throat, and the grip she has on the doorknob loosens until her hand slides off of it like butter. 

“It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t have a choice!” 

“But then why do I still see his face whenever I close my eyes?” 

The conversation comes to an abrupt end when she hears the legs of a chair slide against the floor boards in an awful screech. Her body catches up to her mind and unfreezes, and she can see his shadow coming into view. 

***

He pushes the door open to find her sitting on the bed, hair dripping beads of water down her back and disappearing in the gaps of her towel. Once again, it’s her presence that dilutes the negative energy coursing through his body. His perfect girl, the remedy for all the bad things to happen in his life. He walks towards her and sits down behind her and wraps his arms around her waist. 

“You smell nice,” he mumbles into her shoulder, placing a kiss onto her skin. He fastens his hold on her, breathing out in contentment as he enjoys the feeling of her cooled skin against him. He twirls a particularly long thread between his fingers, amusing himself for just a moment. 

Y/n turns her head slightly. Her hand is shaking underneath the pillow in her lap, and she can only hope that he doesn’t sense anything off about how she barely expand her lungs to full capactiy in her frazzled state. He pokes his nose into her cheek as he trails his lips along her jaw. The feeling of the light stubble on his upper lip sends a shiver from the base of her neck and down her stiff spine.

“How are you feeling?” His husky voice startles her. He looks over her shoulder to where his hands come to rest on her stomach. 

She swallows hard on the lump in her throat. “I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure?” he asks again, this time turning her in his lap to face him. Her eyes evade him, staring down at his shirt, and he notices the teeth marks embedded into her bottom lip. “Love?” 

Hesitantly, she raises her head to look at him. 

“Love, are you okay?” His face fills with worry as he searches her for an answer. “Is it the baby? Are you feeling pains again? Gemma told me you were having them. We can go to St. Mungo’s if there’s something wrong.” His tone is panicked as the questions and statements come out of him all at once. 

This makes Y/n shake her head, a frail tug of her lips as she cups his cheeks and smoothens out the crease between his eyebrows. “No,” she answers honestly. “I’m just feeling a bit tired.” She watches as his appearance becomes less troubled and the muscle in his jaw slackens a great deal. 

“You’re sure?” She nods, and he drops his forehead to rest on her shoulder. “I just don’t want anything happening to you two,” he admits. “I wouldn’t be able to handle it.” 

She feels her chest loosen a bit. 

***

Flaming glass comes hurdling through the air, and the hair-raising screams of wizards and witches alike fill their ears in the aftermath of the explosion. She gets a glimpse of the scene from over Harry’s shoulder as it further unfolds. Her heart pounds like a drum beneath her chest, and her grip on Harry’s arm only intensifies when she looks up to see the almost hostile expression on his face. Her eyes dart to where his bulge at, and they land on the figure dressed head to toe in black attire. The man smirks in their direction.

Who is he? Why had he been following them all through the day? 

So many questions race through her mind as she stands almost paralyzed in the alleyway. 

Harry snaps his head back at her, his face instantly becoming less rigid as he stares into her eyes, but in a way that makes the back of them prickle with an unknowing fear. It’s the way his eyebrows just barely bunch together and how his chest quickly rises and falls as his hands around her hips loosen. “Get her out of here!” he suddenly yells to Gemma. 

“What? No! I’m not leaving without you!” She fights off Gemma’s hold on her and rushes back and attaches herself back onto him. She begs him not to do this. The last thing she wants to do is be away from him, especially in time like this. 

His hands cup her cheeks, and she holds on to his wrists as to keep him with her. “I’ll come find you, okay? But right now, I need you to go with Gemma.” His tone is desperate as the words come rushing out. She can see an equal amount of fear in his eyes before he pulls her closer and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I love you,” he tells her.

She shakes her head, her vision clouded with tears as Gemma pulls are away from him. Her stomach flips, and her knees feel as though they can’t support the weight of her anymore. He runs back onto the main street, despite her calling his name over and over. 

Gemma wraps her arms around her, and she can feel she digs for her wand in her jacket pocket. Just as their bodies disappear into the vortex of apparition, she takes one last look at Harry, but his body consumed by an all too familiar black veil. 

Y/n wakes up in cold sweat, her eyes opening abruptly, only to be met with plain white ceiling. She turns her head to her right where Harry lays asleep with his arm draped over her stomach. The rest of her body turns with her, and she brings a hand to move one of the brown curls away from his forehead. She scans her eyes over his face, wanting to memorize its features. Every mole, the crevices of his dimples, the thickness of his long lashes, and the way his nose wriggles whenever she grazes the tips of her fingers down his jaw. 

Her heart tells her nothing is wrong, that he’s still the same person she fell in love with back on the Hogwarts Express. But her head, her head and all the stupid signs she’s come to face tell her something is different. 

She shuts her eyes. “Please tell me I’m wrong,” she whispers pleadingly. Very carefully, she coordinates herself to get out of their shared bed. Just as her feet touch the floor, Harry start to shift, and ends up on his back. His left arm lies where her body had just been. 

She picks up her wand from the top of the end table, then slowly moves to point it to his bare skin. It feels like hot metal burning through her palm the longer she holds it in that position. “Please,” she whimpers one last time. Her lips form around the first syllable of the word as her hand continues to shake out of focus.

He’s not one of them, he just can’t be. She knows him, almost better than she knows herself. She sees the compassion in him, even when he doesn’t want to admit that he’s kinder than he intends to be because that’s who he is. He’s not like his father or any of those criminals that everyone wants so desperately to associate him with. 

But she’s also afraid. Her world is changing far too quickly, and she’s finding it harder and harder to keep up with the madness of it all. And more importantly, she loves him too much for it to go any other way. 

Her hand brushes through her hair as she drops her wand to her side. “I can’t do it.” The words are mouthed without a stretch from her vocal cords. She sniffles into the neck of her shirt as her hand moves to rest above her abdomen. That’s when she realizes that this is why she has to do it. Needs to. They’re already bringing a child into this world in the middle of a war far deadlier than its predecessor. She can’t afford surprises. Not when the price to pay is this. The tip of her wand hovers back over his forearm. 

“Aparecium.” *** He feels around the bed, searching for her body as his eyes garner the strength to open up to the light of a new day. The side next to him is cold, and he finally peels his lids apart to see the space next to him completely empty. He lets out a sigh and turns onto his back. 

“What’re you doing on the floor?” he asks when he spots her, chuckling lightly as he pulls the covers off. His feet are cold against the floor as he circulates around the bed and bends down in front of her. It’s then he gets a good look at her, and the smile on his face quickly melts away. 

Her eyes are rimmed red, and her lip begins to quiver as she lifts her head up to stare back at him. It’s the way she looks at him, he doesn’t know how to describe it, but it terrifies him. 

Slap.

Her hand harshly comes in contact with his cheek, strong enough to forcibly knocks his head to the side. His eyes grow wide when he snaps back to her, and he’s met with her tears as they furiously fall in an endless stream down onto her shirt. 

She covers her face with her hands and begins to cry, her whole body shaking uncontrollably as she does so. He reaches out to touch her, but she coils and away from him almost immediately as though he were poison. He retracts his arm quickly. His heart shattering and mind racing because this isn’t something he’d ever thought would happen. The gears in his head going into overdrive as he tries to comprehend what the fuck is going on.

And then he sees it. 

His eyes land down onto his arm. His left forearm, ridden of its concealment. The sinister mark on display for the whole world. He quickly looks back to her, and she looks at him through her puffy eyes as she wraps her arms around herself as a barrier to him. It’s as if to tell him to stay away. 

“You’re one of them,” she chokes out. 

He numbly backs away from her until he hits the edge of the bed. His mouth falls open, but he doesn’t have the power to use it. His entire world feels as if it’s just crashed around him all at once.

It’s his greatest fear come to life. 

“You’re one them,” she repeats, only this time he can practically taste the anger in her voice. 

“Y/n, please,” he starts in pure desperation as his emotions become too overwhelming for him to control. “Just-just listen to me. I lo-”

“No!” she screams at him. He squeezes his eyes shut and pulls on the hair on the top of his head. “You lied to me!” With wobbly knees, she stands to her feet, looking down at him with tears veiling her vision. “You’re a liar.”

Harry quickly stands up, pulling her into his chest and clings to her. “Love, no,” he cries, and only growing louder as she attempts to squirm out of his embrace. 

“Let me go!” she yells, but Harry refuses. He cups the back of her hair and frantically declares his love for her in her ear. 

It takes all the strength in her to escape his grasp and push him away. When he tries to approach her, she slaps him.

She slaps him again, then again, and again. His cheek stinging bright red and shining with the tears of his failure. 

Harry falls to his knees and wraps his arms around her lower half as tightly as he can. He can’t let her go, he can’t afford to. No matter how hard she tries to push him away, he’ll only come rushing back. 

“Everything,” she sobs, holding onto the sides of her head because she feels it’s about to explode. “Everything about this relationship is a lie!” 

He shakes his head hysterically against her. “I love you so much. Please, don’t do this. I love you. I love you. Y/n, please. I can’t lose you, not this way. Please, I love you so much.” He cries into the bottom of her shirt and leaves sloppy kisses on the marks of his tears. 

She starts to hit his shoulders, knocking them with her loose fists as she feels the strength in her body drain out of her. She braces herself against the wall, her chest heaving as she breathes out one shaky breath after the next. 

He looks up at her, hoping to find even the faintest of lights in her eyes to give hope that they can make it through this, that this is just a test they need to go through to reach their happy ending. He pleads with her, but it’s like she doesn’t hear him. 

Her face becomes unreadable, but he senses something different about it. She inhales sharply, then all of a sudden she shrieks out in pain. He recedes at arm’s length, his eyes quickly scanning her as his heart quickens in pace. 

A line of blood trails down the inner side of her legs. 

“No, no, no.” He jumps up just in time to catch her in his arms, only for them to land back on the floor. “Gemma!” he shouts towards the door. His girl hunches over and wraps her arms around her stomach. “You’re okay,” he says hurriedly, taking her face in his palm. “You’re okay.” 

Gemma runs into the room, freezing for a moment as she takes in the shock of the image before her. 

“Help her!” Harry screams, and his sister composes herself and orders Harry to get Y/n on the bed. 

Potion flasks swiftly enter the room, too many for Harry to count. Gemma opens the cork a sparkling red one, guiding the nozzle to Y/n’s mouth and lifting her head just high enough for her to drink from it. This seems to relax the pain just enough for her face to soften. 

But the tears in her eyes still continue to flow out. 

He feels so helpless right now. His sister is fully concentrated on his girlfriend, and he’s here standing on the sides. Y/n turns to look at him, but the sight of him makes her breakdown in sobs. 

Gemma pauses mid-incantation and bounces her eyes between the two. 

“You can’t be here right now,” she tells him. 

“I’m not leaving her,” he counters adamantly.

The older Styles lets out a sigh. She shoots her brother a warning look, only to be met with his stubbornness as he refuses to move. Looking back at Y/n, then looking to Harry, she raises her wand and flicks it towards him. 

The walls of the room zoom past in a flash, and suddenly he’s out in the hallway. The door slams shut in front of him, the magnitude of its power enough to rattle the portraits on the walls. 

He’s never felt more worthless.

***

A/N: I KNOW, I KNOW...IT’S BEEN YEARS SINCE I’VE UPDATED. I’m so sorry this took so long, but I hope this was worth the wait!

Anyway, OH MY GOD?? THIS PART THOROUGHLY STRESSED ME OUT AND HOPEFULLY YOU GUYS DON’T HATE ME FOR WHAT JUST HAPPENED :o 

Comments? Questions? Concerns? 

Send them in!

[sickybubbies]

Can you write about jungkook having a bladder infection that causes his tummy to cramp badly?🥺💖

A/n: ugh those are horrible! I could’ve done this a lot better but I hope you enjoy regardless anonie! Ps. Sorry for the delay 💕

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It was another solemn day for Jungkook, he was doing his usual of observing his Yoongi hyung while he works in the studio, how he makes the beats sound so effortlessly amazing is far off from the younger.

Then he feels it.

A sharp pain rippling through his lower belly has him sucking his breath and clenching his teeth. Yoongi however, was completely oblivious to his discomfort as he continued writing– Jungkook grasped the opportunity to silently massage the region, even unbuttoning his jeans so he could get better access.

After a couple systematic swirls around the skin, Jungkook’s had enough. He taps Yoongi on the shoulder and he hums “Hyung, I’m gonna head back now..”

The rapper turns around, taken aback by his sudden behaviour since Jungkook usually goes home with him but then notes how he’s almost as pale as him. His brows furrowed as he questions “everything okay kook? You look kinda pale..”

He does? Jungkook just shrugs him off, for the time being “I’m just tired hyung, I think I’ll call it quits”

That wasn’t entirely a lie, he could feel his eyelids weighing down just as he said that and wished nothing more but to curl up in the comfort of his bed. Thankfully, his Hyung doesn’t press on further and gives a deep hum “Alright, rest up. I don’t know how long I’ll be but I’ll follow soon”

Jungkook hums, sluggishly making his way out of the studio, wincing and pressing a firm hand to his abdomen as he walked. With each step he took he was met with a sudden jab of pain making him bite his lips.

He skipped dinner, the war that he was having with his stomach wringed his appetite out of him and he cautiously lay in bed, curled up with his knees to his chest. Jungkook presses a hand to his middle, in efforts of dissipating his discomfort while another cramp seizes his stomach.

2:43 AM

Sighing heavily he bites his tongue from bursting out into tears, a couple slipping through as he sits up and makes his way out.

He tip toes to the oldest, craving for warmth more than anything, he just wants to be held. He peeks through the door. “H-hyung?”

Jungkook probably looks horrible, he probably sounds it too and most definitely feels horrible, very horrible.

The pain had grown into something more bigger, more dangerous. It felt like waves of pain that were eerily lurking around the vicinity of his lower abdomen, each as stinging and vile as the next. Jungkook feels his throat close up a little as he whimpers.

“Jungkookie…?” Jin’s voice is groggy and still raw from slumber as he rubs his eye with his fist and pouts “what’s wrong bunny?”

He mutters as Jungkook wordlessly climbs into his bed, Jin chuckles softly as he carded his fingers through his locks. There weren’t many moments where the maknae initiates skinship like so, but when it did happen it was always cherished. Jungkook moans in misery, his lower throbbing and tightening viciously.

Jin frowns, eyeing how he had his jaw tightened “Kookie? You alright?” As expected the latter shakes his head “tummy hurts”

Jungkook bites out and mumbles into his Hyung’s chest, inhaling his lavender bath soap he uses to calm his nerves as his middle seems like it's being hammered with needles while his tears pour onto the shirt. The older lets out a distinct pitying noise “Where bun, maybe a little tummy rub would help?”

“Maybe..I-I don’t know hyung, it hurts so bad..” He hums in understanding and slips his hand underneath the younger’s PJ’s, Jungkook’s dreading his decision already as he inhales rather sharply, it’s dark but Jin’s eyes are glistening with worry.

Jin starts gently roaming his hand around, frowning at how hard it was and Jungkook begs he doesn’t touch his lower. It was far too sensitive and swarmed work pain to be meddled with “Here?”

Don’t touch don’t touch don’t touch–

“Hyung stop! Stop!” Jungkook prys his hand off urgently. Curling up as he breaks into a fit of wails, his sobs hard and strained. Jin is bewildered and Yoongi flicks on the light.

“What’s going on..?” Yoongi sits up barely heard over Jungkook’s cries, Jin gnaws his bottom lip seeming very unsure himself “I’m not sure Yoongi, His tummy seems to be seriously hurting..”

Jungkook’s choking, a misc of his breath hitching as fresh cramps pull on his muscles and wheezes between his sobs. “Breathe baby, breathe. It’s gonna be okay” Jin frets, furiously rubbing his back to provide some comfort as his lips press onto his ear “shh shh, hush now..panicking will only make it worse Jungkook-ah”

Yoongi skids over to the pair (grabbing his shooky heating pad which had yet to be opened), using the space that was available from where Jungkook was not curled up on and perched on it. He cards his fingers generously through the singer’s locks. “Kook, where does it pain buddy?”

“My tummy..” He murmurs while hiccuping as Yoongi unravels it and plunges it onto the socket “we know that bunny, can you tell hyung where exactly?”

Jungkook just meekly points to his lower abdomen, tender and slightly bloated upon inspection, Yoongi nods. Feeling a lot more level headed “Try this Kook,”

He slurps his words and sweetly presses a kiss on the younger’s forehead, while placing the heating pad on his stomach.

Jungkook hisses a little at the burning and Jin is quick to shush him, kissing the crown of his head “shh, this’ll make it better” the latter nods, curling himself into his hyung’s arms.

His eyes roll back as his head lulls and Jin giggles, “is someone sleepy?” He coos as Jungkook nods, yawning promptly. Smothering his cheek onto Jin’s matt black tee while he pouts. Jin strokes his cheek, pulling the covers and tucking the singer in a bit more “do you think it’s what you had? The appendicitis..” he whispers lowly, clearly sounding worried.

Yoongi clicks his tongue, “I’m not sure hyung, the pain isn’t in his right side which is good. But it’s never certain” he sighs, recalling the vicious ordeal he had to go through when his appendix bursted. The thought of his precious dongsaeng having to go through the same makes him shudder.

Jin nods, a tinge of relief washes over him “well, we’ll let Kook rest for now, then we’ll take him to the hospital– What are you doing?”

Yoongi shrugs, giving his bed one last shove with a groan so it sticks with Jin’s. “Saves him from rolling off the bed, either of you”

Jin snorts “you just want to cuddle him don’t you” he keeps rubbing the sick maknae’s tummy in soft motions as he sleeps, an occasional groan here and there has him applying slight pressure for reliviance.

Yoongi rolls his eyes but climbs in anyway, shamelessly spooning Jungkook making the oldest laugh.

(The next morning, snaps of the pair cuddling were being flaunted while Jin was scolding Jungkook almost giving him a heart attack, Jungkook just blames the bladder infection)

[hardyimagines]

Part 6 — The Baker

Part 1   Part 2  Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 7   Part 8     Part 9

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Could I request an Alfie Solomons x reader where she has no idea who he is and thinks he’s just a baker so he bakes things for her and is sweet but he keeps trying to hide his identity bc he really likes her and eventually she finds out who he is? You decide whether you want the ending to be angst or fluff! And please make this one a bit lengthy :) thanks love 💗 Requested by: @centerhabit​

Warnings: Swearing, Nightmares, Sexual Harassment ( I don’t want to upset anyone, it’s not graphic, but I just want to forewarn you! )

Word count: 9.1k

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“Cyril.” You whispered softly in annoyance, hand pressed gently into the pup’s face as he licked your cheek excitedly, attempting to wake you. “No..” You whined under your breath as sleep quickly slipped away from your grasp, do to the dog disrupting your dreams. The large animal lifted his paws on to the edge of the grey duvet before hoisting himself up and on to the oversized mattress. Cyril weighed more than you did which was quite shocking, so when the mastiff lowered himself down on top of your chest, you groaned out even louder. The room was hot, sticky hair sweeping over your pale skin as you squirmed beneath the dog to try and free yourself. His heavy paws pressed against your arms and you found yourself to be much weaker than usual. There was a dull throbbing in your temple that seemed to suffocate the entirety of your head and as you went to shout for Alfie, you found an incredible soreness in your throat. You crinkled your nose at the uncomfortable feelings before weakly patting Cyril. “Go get Alfie.” You whispered before snapping your fingers and pointing to the door. You didn’t think the dog could’ve moved faster. Cyril leapt off the bed, loud paws scratching the slippery floor before he ran, as best as he could, down the stairs and to his father who was hunched over his desk in the living room. You could hear the dog’s loud bark fill the entirety of Alfie’s home— well your home as well now. Smiling sleepily into the pillow, despite the sickness that you felt, your eyes slid shut and you let out a tired moan as you tried to get comfy. Cyril barked again and you could hear Alfie shushing the animal. “Do you want your mother to wake up?” The man growled softly, but you could hear every word in the silent home. Your ears twitched as Alfie referred to you as the pup’s mother and you were overcome with a warmth of happiness. Moving for the third time on to your back, you tried that position again, but sleep didn’t come. Another growl from Alfie did though.

Cyril was biting the end of the man’s slacks, snarling as he tried to get Alfie to follow him. “Bloody dog, what the hell is wrong with you? I’m trying to work, yeah, go lay down with your mum. Right, go.” He pointed to the stairs, expecting the dog to rush off in your direction, but Cyril merely continued to rest on the floor with his chin on Alfie’s foot, tugging lightly again at the man’s trousers. “You’ve had your breakfast, yeah, and you’ve been outside, right, what else could you fucking want?” The man, desperate to finish the work on the desk so he could climb into bed with you, stood from the creaky chair. Alfie looked to the clock in the corner, squinting. The hour hand pointed to six and he had realized he’d stayed up all night again. The sunlight was streaming in from the window in the corner of the room, but Alfie had been so caught up in paperwork, he didn’t even realize how early it actually was. His boots thudded loudly beneath him, ringed fingers scraping the railing audibly as he climbed the stairs after the dog. “Where the hell are you taking me, Cyril?”

Last week, the dog had led Alfie in circles around the home, searching for his toy ball. Alfie thought the dog had known exactly where it was and just needed help getting it, but the mutt was actually trying to look for it and Alfie had been stupidly following the animal for an hour.

Cyril nudged the door open to the bedroom that you and Alfie shared. You were laying on your back, on top of the duvet because of how hot it was in the room. “Cyril.” Alfie hissed softly, not daring to move any further. “Come on, boy, she’s sleeping. We don’t want to wake her.” Alfie pressed his hand against the doorway and tore his eyes away from the dog who rejoined your side. Cyril laid his head on your belly and you, head rolled to face the wall, pretended to be asleep so you could see how Alfie would react. As presumed, the man took a small step forward, now daring to approach you since Cyril had and it didn’t seem to bother you at all. Your eyes were still extremely heavy, but you managed to stay conscious, very aware of the approaching man. Alfie studied your form, curiously allowing his eyes to roam over your small form. You had one hand fisted in the blanket, clutching the white fabric as you slumped on top of it. Your legs were pressed together, tucked into your tummy, directed toward the wall just like your face was. Alfie stepped over one of the unpacked boxes before settling himself down at your side. You bit back your smile when the man tripped lightly over your slippers, no doubt nearly losing his already horrible balance. “Fucking shoes.” He muttered, kicking the things beneath the bed.

You began to squirm, silently telling him that he was making entirely too much noise. The man was halfway on the bed, one knee pressed into the blanket at your side, one foot still on the ground. He was just now lowering himself down and on to the mattress when you rolled toward him. Alfie held his breath, afraid to wake and upset you, though he knew you wouldn’t be mad. Your dainty fingers outstretched blindly toward him and when they curled around his large arm, you gently tugged on him. “Where’ve you been?” You whispered, keeping your eyes closed. He ran his tired eyes along your smooth face, no doubt recently washed with the apple scented soap he loved so much. The man dipped his head and pressed his lips against your cheek, allowing his dampened lips to rest against your skin for a few moments before he brushed his nose against your ear and inhaled deeply. “Downstairs. Working as usual, pet.” He explained before getting comfy at your side. When he began to draw back so he could lay flat on his back, your body was quick to follow, subconsciously following his so you could morph together. His body fit against your own like missing pieces to a puzzle.

Your starry eyes opened, so full of emotion it made him wonder how one tiny person could hold so much feeling for anybody else, but especially feelings for a man like himself. He gave you a slow smile, mesmerized by your beauty and all you’d done was wake up. “Where’s my good morning kiss?” Alfie hummed, waiting for you to give him one. “I’m not feeling so good, love.” You explained, burying your features into his clothed chest. The material he wore was soft, almost silky feeling, and it was very appealing against your face. “I like it so much better when you sleep with me instead of downstairs at your desk.” You told him quietly, receiving a hearty chuckle from him as you attempted to change the subject. Your head bounced lightly against his chest as he laughed, belly rising and falling in little dips. You lifted your head to eye the man with a scowl, curious to know what was so funny about what you’d said.

“You think I prefer to fucking sleep at that desk down there, pet? It’s fucking hard as a rock, innit, and you’re definitely not there to play with my fucking hair, right, so I’d have to agree, yeah, I prefer sleeping right fucking here with you too.” You moved your hand along his ribs and up to his neck. Playing lazily with the scruff of facial hair that coated his handsome face, you sighed breathily. “Well then I’m going to have to start luring you into bed with me since you lose track of time and don’t come at a reasonable hour.” You started to sit up, but he pulled you back down against him. “Did you say you were sick, pet?” He asked softly, piercing eyes gliding along your face. He could see you were flushed. Your eyes were sunken and as he brushed his thumb along your chin, he could feel the heat burn his finger. “My god, pet, you’re fucking burning up.” The man sat up with his brows pulled together in a deep frown. He rolled you gently to the side before sliding off of the creaky bed and moving out of the room. You gave him a look of confusion before looking to Cyril, who was snoring loudly.

Your voice was entirely too strained and hurt too much for you to call out for the man to see what he was doing. Luckily whatever it was, he did it fast. His boots hit the wooden stairs loudly as he made his way back up and down the corridor to the bedroom. He held a bottle of orange medicine in one hand and a spoon in the other, wiggling the contents. “This’ll make you feel better.” He told you softly before approaching again. You backed up on the bed with a little frown. “Oh, Alfie.. I. I suddenly feel a lot better.” You stood up on the bed, biting on your lip. “I don’t need any medicine.” You jumped off the bed and your entire head felt as if it might disconnect from your neck and roll right to the floor. Clutching your heavy skull, you winced, lowering yourself down to the floor in a heap. Alfie set the medicine down to instantly tend to you. His stomach was twisted with worry as he hunched over your little body. “Come here, right, I’ll take care of you, pet.” You let out a breathy moan, fingers moving to your throat as your nose began to sting. The fiery pain went down the back of your throat and into your right nostril. “I hate being sick.” You whispered, still wrapped in a little ball on the floor. “You shouldn’t be near me, Alfie, you’re gonna get sick too.” The man huffed stubbornly. His strong hands wrapped around your body, gripping you beneath your thigh as he hooked his other arm around your middle and hoisted you up.

Alfie lifted you as if you were a mere doll. You were off the floor in seconds and instead nestled into his embrace. “If you don’t take the medicine, pet, you won’t fucking get better, right, then I will get sick, yeah, but if you take it— the sooner you’re better, the sooner I can kiss you, innit?” Your lower lip trembled, but you nodded softly. “Right, then.” The man sat down on the edge of the bed, cradling you on his lap. He leaned over to retrieve the medicine, smoothly twisting the cap off of the top before pouring some into the spoon. “Two spoonfuls, right, and after that, you’ll be feeling so much fucking better.” You inhaled deeply, eyes clouded over with fear. You hated taking medicine. The man lifted the first spoonful to your tightly closed lips, urging you softly to open your mouth. “Come on, pet.” You could feel his fingers as they massaged your lower back, rubbing the tension away. “I’ll kiss you afterward?” He offered. You, unable to pass up on that proposal slowly parted your lips. The metal spoon entered your mouth and suddenly you couldn’t close it. Alfie was stuck, hovering the utensil above your tongue with no other choice but to dump it out and force you to take it. He wouldn’t though. “Pet, you’ve got to close your fucking mouth, yeah, I can’t keep my arm like this all day.” You shut your eyes tightly and he swore he saw little tears filling the corner of your eyes. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against your ear, whispering sweet little nothings against your skin. It worked. Your mouth closed obediently around the spoon and with a shiver at the horrid taste, you swallowed it down. Alfie kept his word and gave you a soft kiss to your sticky lips. He could taste the medicine too and didn’t blame you for giving him a hard time.

“It’s not meant to fucking taste good, pet, right, it’s just meant to help you and it will within no time.” He filled the spoon up again and you gave an audible groan. “I don’t wanna take anymore.” You stood from his lap, but he smoothly pulled you back down. “Ah, ah, ah, you’ve already taken one, it won’t hurt to take one more.” Your jaw clenched knowingly, staring at the man. “I can’t, Alfie. I really can’t—“ The spoon and medicine were set down for a moment so he could wrap his arms around you and discuss a new proposal. “I’ll give you a bath if you take one more mouthful?” That caught your attention. Your fingers lazily pinched the front of his shirt, tracing the buttons and loose strings that had managed to come off of the material. “Will you JOIN me in the bath?” You asked, wanting to clarify what exactly his offer was. The man cracked a slow smile before nodding his head. Giving you a rewarding kiss on your chin, he lifted the spoon and filled it with the nasty, but necessary liquid. “But— only if you take this the second it’s in your mouth, okay?” You nodded your head lightly, placing your small hands on his shoulders. He gave you the medicine again and the second you swallowed, you nearly threw up. “That’s my girl.” He pat your back, ensuring you were okay. Rising, the man left the spoon and medicine on the bedside table. Did you have to take more later?

The skin of his neck was hot as you pushed your face against it, cuddling him tightly as he walked down the hall and toward the bathroom. His boot nudged the door open and you instantly felt better at the thought of the hot water sloshing across your slightly sweaty skin. Lowering your legs to the floor, the cold tile kissed the bottoms of your feet. “Right, undress pet, do you want any bubbles or anything?” You shook your head softly, moving over to the cabinet. “I’m alright, Alfie, really.” He could tell that you weren’t. Your legs shook, struggling to hold up your body. He ushered for you to sit down on the toilet with a grunt before he left the room to get hot water to fill the tub with. You stared down at your feet, toes wiggling slightly as you thought about Alfie. He was entirely too good to you. In all truth, you didn’t feel as if you deserved him. The man was always so eager to take care of you, ready to pamper you with love and affection. He was everything you’d need in life. You knew you were young, much younger than he was, but it didn’t bother you in the slightest. Despite the age difference, you two got on very very well. Yes, there were incredible differences, such as his temper, which was bound to be set off at any moment. You didn’t get angry easy. You got upset over silly things, but you didn’t reach the point to where you were absolutely fuming. Alfie did. He was as caring as you though, if not more. Everything he did was for you.

You were dragged out of your thoughts when he moved back into the room to dump the large bucket of scalding water into the basin. Rising from your position on the toilet lid, you peeled off your nightgown and instantly moved toward the tub. Alfie wasted no time before he was ogling you, bright eyes boring into your silky flesh. He swallowed quietly before averting his eyes to his own clothing. You lifted your leg over the side of the oversized tub and carefully lowered yourself down and into the hot water. “Oh.. god, that feels good.” The man cocked a brow at your words before lifting his hand to smooth down his facial hair. His stomach flipped eagerly, cheeks heating up. “Right, pet, I know you don’t feel good and all, but you’re fucking moaning, yeah, a lot, and it’s kind of workin me up, innit.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest and you turned your head to look at him. Grinning slowly, your eyes flickered to his slacks. “Best get those off then, otherwise you’re going to strangle him.” Alfie snorted at your words before peeling off his shirt. Leaning over to retrieve your dress, he placed them both in the basket in the corner before he began to remove his trousers. “Quit looking.” He barked quietly as he could feel your penetrative eyes stuck on his form as he undressed. “Are we shy, Mr. Solomons?” The sounds of his ring rubbing against the button on his trousers filled the room, your eyes dropped to his thighs as he pushed the slacks down his legs and placed them in the dirty clothes basket as well. You bit your lip. You weren’t sure if the medicine was making you feel better or the fact that Alfie was taking his clothes off was. You straightened in the tub, water loudly splashing against the edges of the basin. “Alfie, hurry.” You whimpered quietly. “I’m cold.” The man cocked a brow, turning his attention toward you. His eyes flickered to your body, eyeing the way that the soapy water rose to your collarbones. You were definitely lying about being cold, but he was going to take advantage anyway and warm you up. Pinching the waistband of his boxers, he pushed them to the floor before rushing over to the bath. You, unable to keep your eyes way from the space between his thighs, flushed a bright shade of red. This didn’t go by unnoticed. As Alfie stepped into the tub and lowered himself down, he smirked at you. “Why’re you fucking looking at him like you don’t know who he is?” The man slumped against the side of the tub and your face darkened further. “You don’t really.. ever have him out unless it’s for sex.” Crawling toward the man, you easily slid on to his lap, curling up against his already damp chest. Cupping some of the water in your palm, you dropped it on his shoulders, watching the water droplets race along his skin.

Alfie moved his hand to your hip, guiding you closer to his body as he chuckled lazily in amusement. The tub was more than big enough for the pair of you which only amused him further. Of all the places to sit, you chose his lap. Your knees were either side of Alfie’s hips, wet hands lifting to cup his cheeks as you watched his features relax. “You know, Mr. Solomons, its good to sleep.” You whispered quietly, finger gliding along his beard. The man humphed quietly before inhaling deeply. “I lost track of time, pet.” You nodded lightly, leaning in to kiss him gently, being careful not to linger for too long. Maybe if you kept the kisses to a minimum, merely pecking him, then he couldn’t get sick. The logic was silly, but Alfie didn’t seem to mind at all. He kept trying to kiss you longer, deeper, but you would shake your head and simply pry him back. “Well, don’t lose track of time tonight. I like being held while I sleep.” You laid your head on his shoulder as if you were going to sleep right now and Alfie laid his hand securely on the back of your neck, holding you in place. The water wasn’t as scorching hot as it was when you had stepped in, but it still held a pleasant warmth. You fell silent and Alfie did the same. He lifted the bar of soap, running the white bar along your back and up to your shoulders. The man brushed your lengthy tresses away from your shoulder blades, watching your loosely curled strands fall from your warm back. You focused intently on the feel of his palms as they worked their way up and down, cleansing you to the best of his ability.

You sat up after a few moments so he could wash the front of your body and you couldn’t help but smile when the man hardly touched your breasts. “Alfie, they need cleaning to. You know you can touch me without it leading to sex, right?” Your nails roamed his shoulders, soothing the expression on his face. He looked offended in a way by your words. “I know that.” He muttered. “That’s my issue. I’m always ready for sex.” He muttered, head tilting back with a loud sigh. Your shaped brows pulled together in light confusion. You hadn’t thought about if he had been with anybody before you or how long ago those relationships had been. Shifting on his lap, you brought his soapy hands up to your chest, staring at him intently. “Well you held on for a while before me, didn’t you?” Your eyes shimmered with hope. It was odd, but you felt jealous to know that other women had been with your Alfie. The man straightened his head so he could see you better. “Yes, pet, I hadn’t had sex, right, in about a fucking year before you came along. A bit disappointing, really, innit?” Your slender arms curled around his neck, lips meeting his cheek. “No. I hadn’t even had sex before I met you, so I’m not the person to be judging.” The man inhaled deeply and you rose on his body with his intake of breath. “Right pet, but you’re a lot younger, yeah? So that’s a bit expected.” Alfie began to shift as the water grew cold and you stood helpfully as he moved to stand. The water droplets raced along your skin, down into the tub beneath you. “Hang on, Alfie.” You pressed your small hands to his taught stomach and stared up at him with the most sickeningly sweet expression he had ever seen.

“I’ll never understand,” His deep voice filled the bathroom. “how someone so fucking beautiful, yeah, and so fucking delicate, such as yourself, could love a fucking git like me.” You tutted beneath your breath, lifting yourself up and on to your tiptoes. The water moved around you as you leaned up, hands sliding back to their original position on his cheeks. You held them securely in your palms, thumbs tracing his facial hair. “Because, Alfie Solomons, you’re just as beautiful and just as delicate.” You whispered, eyes growing slightly droopy from how much love you felt for this human being. “You may be big and bad a lot of the time, but there’s a lot of good in you.” You kissed him softly. “I know that for a fact. I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t think you were a good man.” You lowered yourself back down so you were stood flatly, but Alfie quickly hoisted you up and on to his hips. “You’re staying in my fucking arms all day.” Alfie stepped out of the tub and you couldn’t help but smile at his words. Would he stick by what he had just said? You weren’t sure, but you’d find out soon enough.

———————————————————

The air outside was skin-numbingly cold. It felt as if someone were wrapped around you, pricking you with a thousand tiny needles at once. You’d lost the feeling in your toes, but despite that, you still walked firmly alongside Alfie. Your fingers were as white as a ghost, completely pale as the pair of your were attacked by the strong gusts of ice cold wind. You let out a breathy whimper and Alfie instantly sensed your discomfort. The frigid temperatures never bothered the man. He was so use to being drowned in hot heat, he enjoyed the brief cold that embraced him. The giant at your side hooked his arm around your small shoulders and drew you into his big chest. He’d offered, insisted, on carrying you to the bakery, but you squirmed and pleaded for him to just let you walk because you knew his Sciatica would be bothering him later if he dared carry so much weight around. It wasn’t like you were heavy, but he shouldn’t be lifting something over twenty pounds for more than an hour altogether in one day, and here he was, trying to stick to his word and hold you every second he could. You pulled your rosy-colored face away from his chest and peered up at him. “My lips have gone numb, Mr. Solomons, I’m going to need a few kisses once we get to the bakery.”

You could feel his ribs tighten as his belly tensed with laughter. “Fuckin hell.” His loud chuckle was enough to warm the atmosphere. You felt hot all of a sudden as a blush crept up to spread along your already rosy, frozen cheeks. “Why does it amuse you when I try to be cute?” You whimpered once more, gasping softly as you hauled you in closer. “Because, pet, you are fucking cute, right, and it makes me happy by how much you love me, yeah, it does.” You soaked up the warmth that radiated off of him and when the bakery doors were within reach, you didn’t want to go inside. Would he still hold you this close once you were in his office and he had mountains of work to do? Alfie licked his lips. Setting his hand on your back, to urge you to part from him so he could open the door, the heavy wood groaned. He led you inside, fingers curled around your own. “Mornin’ lads, yes, Y/N’s here, it’s nothing new, right, so let’s keep fucking working, yeah?” Every man in the building lifted their eyes before instantly lowering them. Alfie’s coat practically floated along behind him as he moved toward his office. You were hot on his heels, eyes shimmering visibly as you climbed each step. Despite his sudden mood change and desire to be in his office, he hadn’t released your hand and he kept glancing back at you, ensuring you were right with him.

The door to his office closed softly behind the pair of you. Alfie pulled off his coat and hung it in the corner before outstretching his hand toward you, finger wiggling once. You pulled off your jacket and handed it over to the man so he could hang it. He pinched the chain of his spectacles and pulled the metal around his neck before setting the frame on the bridge of his nose. “Do you want to sit on the sofa, right,” He pointed to it. “Or do you want to sit with me?” The man peered at you over the rims of the lenses, before sidestepping his desk and lowering himself down and on to the chair. It didn’t take you long before you sat down on his thighs, settling down on his lap. “Will it be difficult for you to work with me sat here?” You asked him quietly, voice soft as you settled, back pressing firmly against his built chest. Alfie grunted quietly beneath his breath in response to your question. “No, pet, im good at multi-tasking, ain’t i?” You cocked a brow before turning your head to eye him over your shoulder. “I’m.. not too sure about that, Alfie. I think you get distracted rather easily.”

The man had his chin resting on your shoulder, staring down at the messy files on the desk before looking to you. “Right, I take it back, I’m fucking good at multitasking, yeah, if you’re not a part of that. Right, because you’re the biggest fucking distraction there is.” You couldn’t help but giggle at his words. “Alfie, how am I distracting when I’m just sitting here?” The man ushered to your lips. “You talk far too much, pet.” You didn’t take that as an insult. Alfie loved your voice and loved that you’d fill the silences with useless chatter. “Should I shut up then?” You whispered, biting your lip when he looked to you. “No.” He said simply, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw. “Talk as much as you want, right, but I do gotta get this work done.” “After,“ You halted him. Dragging his face back toward yours, you smiled. “you warm up my lips.” Alfie obliged with no hesitation. Leaning in, his warm lips melted against your cold ones and he suddenly realized it was no fucking wonder you were sick. The cold was just as obsessed with you as he was. He kissed you until your lips were swollen, red, and hot before drawing back to catch his breath. “Mh?” You nodded. “Very good, thank you.” You settled down, lazily messing with one of his hands as he began to write with the other. The paper on the desk was stained with Alfie’s cursive. The black ink was smudged across the tan paper and the side of his hand was no doubt just as smeared. You kept quiet for the most part, doing your best not to interrupt him because, despite what he had said, you knew if he couldn’t focus then his work would pile up and he would spend every night, wide awake and then he’d be angry the next morning due to lack of sleep. The clock in the corner ticked by slowly which you were grateful for. There wasn’t much to do, no, but you were sat on Alfie’s lap, alone in his office, able to listen to his breathing and his soft grunts when he would work something out. You hoped this day never ended. It was the perfect opportunity to study him without him getting defensive from your staring.

The noisy door to Alfie’s office opened and Ollie made his presence known. “Tommy Shelby is here to see you.” Alfie’s eyes lifted. “Haven’t you ever heard of fucking knocking?” He growled softly, dark eyes falling back to the paper in front of him. “Tommy Shelby, mate, that bloke’s always fucking coming around here.” Leaning back in his seat, he ignored Ollie’s looks to you, perched on Alfie’s lap like a child sat on Santa. You gave Ollie a pointed look before laying your elbows on the desk. Alfie looked at the arch on your back as you hunched forward, studying you momentarily. “I don’t want to see Tommy, Alfie.” You moaned out, staring at the door as Ollie shut it, going to retrieve Mr. Shelby. “He carries himself too confidently.” You whispered, adjusting yourself on his lap before you stood. His hand shot out to grip your hip and you could feel his fingers flex lightly, tempted to yank you back down, but you assured the man that you weren’t going far. “I’m just going to look at your books, Alfie, okay?” The man gave you a cautious look before releasing you. His dark eyes moved to the door as it opened and in walked Thomas Shelby. He stood in the doorway for a moment, messing lazily with the chain that hung beside his hip. He had one hand tucked into the pocket of his navy colored trousers, eyes stuck on Alfie as if the man had taken a knife and jabbed it into Mr. Shelby’s back. You watched him warily from the mirror in the corner. The dirty glass absorbed the image of Thomas, so you had a perfectly good view of him, though your back was to him.

Your fingers traced the dust infested hard covers, studying them. Alfie liked to read? Or was this just decoration for his office. Smiling briefly to yourself, you nearly flinched when Alfie’s deep voice sliced through the silence in the room. Looking over your shoulder at the man you’d given your heart to, you watched as he leaned back in his seat, not bothering to hold back his true feelings when it came to the dark haired man in the door. Tommy’s blue eyes were ice cold and threatening. “You crossed me, Alfie.” He said simply, narrowing his eyes to challenge the bearded man at the desk. You arched a brow at that. When? As if Tommy had heard your silent question, he stepped further into the room, pink lips parting. “Sabini told me the truth about the races. Said you had something to do with the little mishap we experienced two days ago.” The chair groaned beneath Alfie’s weight. “And you’ll take that fucking Italian’s word over mine, right, mate, I don’t have time for this.” He ushered to the door. “Go on, fuck off.” Tommy didn’t move. “I need more of an explanation than that, Alfie.”

You turned around slowly, cradling a red hardcover book in your palms. “You either trust him or you don’t.” You spoke up softly, tone holding an air of nonchalance. Tommy’s eyes shot to you. “I’m not talking to you, am I, pet, go back to your reading, yeah? You’ve always got to give your input, Y/N, it’s not needed. It never will be. This is a meeting between myself and Alfie.” Your brows lifted, creases effectively forming on the pale skin of your forehead. Little curls, that couldn’t be tamed, framed the smooth skin of your face. Brushing them away, your curious eyes moved to your baker as he began to stand. “You won’t fucking speak to her like that, Tommy, or we will, right, we’ll have some real fucking problems.” Alfie hooked his fingers in the belt loops on his trousers and pulled them up before directing his finger at the man. “I didn’t fucking cross you, mate, you’re a bit fucking ignorant if you believe a fucking word that Darbi fucking Sabini has to say. It’s a lie, innit, and you, yeah, you took the time to come all the way here from fucking Birmingham to ask me if I fucking crossed you?” Your dark eyes slid along Alfie. He was hunched over his desk, eyes full of anger as he planted his hands down roughly on the surface. You knew majority of his frustration was because of how Tommy had spoken to you. Cradling the dirty book to your chest, you looked to the man as he directed those fiery eyes of his to your form. “Apologize to her, Tommy.” The black-haired Barbie doll let his eyes move to you. Both men ogled you. “It won’t happen again.” He said flatly. That was as good as you were going to get, you assumed. “No, Tommy, right, I said fucking say the words, ‘I’m Sorry’.” You weren’t sure why Alfie thought Tommy would listen, but as Alfie hunched over to retrieve his revolver, you gave him a look of bewilderment. “Alfie-“ stepping toward him with wide eyes, your small hand curled in the sleeve of his shirt. “Hey, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Thomas, completely aware of what the bearded man was leaning over to grab, remained absolutely calm, eyes rolling lightly. “I’m sorry.” He muttered. He came here to ensure that he and Alfie could remain on good terms, not to ruin what little trust was left between them. “Alright, Alfie? I’m sorry.” The man at your side loosened his grip around the handle of the gun before looking at you, then back to the Barbie in the doorway. “Right, then. I told you, mate, I didn’t fucking double cross you, yeah, so, if that’s all you’ve come here to fucking ask, you can be on your way.” The room was uncomfortably silent so you busied yourself with the chipped part of the desk in front of you. Picking at the wood, you scratched the surface until pieces of it were loose. Dusting them away and shyly on to the floor, you cleared your throat as Ollie poked his head in again. “Alfie, I need you!” There was no time for explanation. The tone in Ollie’s voice was urgent enough. “I’m a bit busy here, Ollie-“ The wide-eyed boy cut his boss off. “Yeah, but I need you, now, Alfie. It’ll only take a second!” He assured the man, eyes flickering to you and then Thomas and then back to Alfie.

The floorboards creaked beneath Alfie as he rushed across the room and brushed past Thomas. “What the fuck is it?” You jumped slightly at the loud boom of his voice. You could hear him descending the steps and when you could no longer hear him, in any sense, you realized you were alone with Thomas Shelby. The air in the room was as stiff as your body. You didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t speak, for fear that Thomas would take advantage of how vulnerable you were and rip into you some more with his harsh words. Your avoiding eyes moved toward the bookshelf, silently counting the amount of hardcovers Alfie owned, pressed together so tightly in the casing, it was almost difficult to drag one out. You crossed the floor slowly to create more distance between your body and Tommy’s, but as you stepped toward the corner, the man followed. “I think it would be better for you to wait in the hall.” You said softly, not turning your head at all to look at him. Your chipped fingernails brushed away the dust that coated the books so you could read the titles.

“If you think I’m afraid of Mr. Solomons, pet, you need to re-evaluate your thoughts.” He muttered. You could feel his hot breath waft over the revealed skin of your shoulder, alerting you of just how close he was standing. You spun around, giving yourself the opportunity to knee him right between his legs if need be. “I didn’t say you were afraid. I said it would be wise.” It was heard, in your words, that you had your jaw clenched and teeth gritted together. The man lifted one of his fingers and guided the ring covered digit toward your cheek, no doubt to brush the strand of hair away that never ceased its mission to annoy you. “He will cut that finger off.” You whispered softly, cheek already burning and he hadn’t even touched you yet. One minute, Thomas looked as if he may gently brush the strand away, the next you felt a sharp tug on the back of your head. You’d been so lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t felt his fingers wrap in your thick locks. Your scalp was on fire from the sharp tug, wincing instantly. You opened your mouth to cry out, but he placed his other hand against your mouth, silencing you. “Listen to me.” He warned, moving his lips to your ear. “I know Alfie crossed me, but he’s never one to admit to his mistakes, right, so you let him know if he does that again, it’s you that will suffer.” Shoving you roughly away from him, your back hit the bookshelf and the entire wooden casing shook. Thomas yanked you out of the way, easily saving you from being crushed by the oversized cabinet. A loud creaking filled Alfie’s office before the entire thing toppled over. If you would’ve been underneath that, it probably would’ve killed you. You let out a loud gasp when your rescuer, and coincidentally the man who had caused that little accident, pushed you down on the flat side of the bookshelf. “Now then.” He stared down at you. “Let’s have a little fun until Alfie comes running back up here, eh?” He wanted you. And he had wanted you from the very first time you’d accidentally entered the office and interrupted his meeting with Alfie.

Alfie was downstairs, head buried beneath one of the machines that had stopped working. The flat of his back was pressed into the hard floor, fingers growing dirtier by the second. Twisting the gears to get them back into their proper state, he let out breathy grunts of frustration, doing his best to hurry up and fix the damn thing. His knees bent, feet pushing roughly into the floor to guide himself further beneath the machine. “This fucking thing’s always giving the lot of you a hard fucking time, innit. Need to just throw this one out, yeah, it’s fucking useless.” Alfie’s men were gathered around him in a huddle, watching him squirm to try and fix the machine for the third time that week. “We’ll find a new one, boss.” One of the lads spoke up. Alfie didn’t respond, he merely grunted, and that was good enough for the boy. “Ollie, go get me pick out of my top drawer, yeah, I need that fucker so I can unscrew this.” Poking his head out from under the machine, the man licked his lips and waited for Ollie to scurry off.

Ollie climbed the stairs to retrieve the needle-like pin. He was much quieter on the steps when ascending them. There was no booming footsteps or loud huffs of annoyance. He didn’t mutter under his breath, swearing every other word. The boy turned the corner sharply and opened the door to the office. The clipboard in his hand clattered to the floor, dark eyes moving over your body and then Tommy’s. The bookshelf Tommy had you laid upon was resting halfway on top of Alfie’s desk. The little plant you’d purchased for Alfie a while ago was now shattered on the floor and majority of the books had come free from their slot. Some books were open, face down on the floor, others were slung all the way across the room to rest beside the door, but the casing wasn’t what Ollie was focused on. “What the hell are you doing!” Ollie barked loudly. The sight was horrifying. Tommy had you pinned to the wooden shelf, his hand desperately searching for a way beneath your mess of skirts. He was pressing feverish kisses to your hot skin, evidently ignoring the way you were squirming to get free. Thomas halted at the intrusion, eyes dark and clouded over with lust when he looked to the boy in the door. “Get out, Ollie. I’ll be finished in a minute.” His voice was deep and husky, thoughts obviously so hazy from his need for sex, he didn’t give a shit about being caught. You let a loud groan of plea leave your throat, dark eyes locking on to Ollie’s. The boy didn’t like you, but he respected you and never wanted to see you hurt. “Get off of her!” Ollie’s chest broadened and his feet hit the floor loudly as he approached. “Now!” His hand wrapped around Tommy’s shoulder, angrily pulling the man back. The two stumbled, both eager to get the other one out of the way. Thomas was determined to knock Ollie out and continue with what he was doing, Ollie was determined to try and knock Thomas out and then get you out of the room.

You stumbled to your feet, adjusting your dress quickly. The front of the fabric had fallen down significantly and your cheeks were flushed a red hue. The entire room was hot and you could feel your eyes beginning to water. Ollie growled, slamming Tommy up against the wall before roughly hitting him in the gut. You gasped sharply at the blow, but Thomas was unaffected. He lunged forward, yanking the boy to the floor with a growl. They continued to roll around on the floor, making even more of a mess in Alfie’s office. The laces on your gown were torn and your hair, previously neatly pinned out of your face, messily hung around your shoulders, still loosely tied in its clip. Alfie was growing agitated so he slid out from underneath the machinery, annoyance filling him quickly. “Where the hell is ollie!” He barked loudly. In this corridor, it was difficult to hear anything else because of how cemented the walls were.

“Sir, there’s a fight in your office!” One of the boys shouted. Alfie nearly broke his neck, swiveling around so fast. The soles of his boots crushed anything in their path, charging down the long hall and back into the main area of the bakery. His first thought was you. He could hear it now. Very clearly. Ollie was grunting and growling, Tommy was swearing and you were shouting for them to stop. Well— for Tommy to. Alfie climbed the stairs with his shoulders broadened and his lips wet. He was ready to shout. You prepared yourself, the second you heard him approaching. “What the fuck is going on!” The large man came to a stop in the doorway, studying the scene. His books were thrown this way and that, his right hand man was pinned to the floor, nose bloody and cheek swollen. Thomas was breathing heavily and although Ollie had hit him a few good times, there were no marks. His eyes dragged across the room to find you, cowering away in the far corner where nobody could touch you. The hard expression on his face seemed to harden further when he caught sight of the tanned laces undone, hanging around your chest. They were torn, making it impossible for you to tie back up. His fingers curled inward, ready to knock someone out. He looked to the men. Which one of them was it? He questioned silently, scanning the pair.

Murder. You saw it floating in Alfie’s gaze, the second he looked at you. Stepping over the messy floor, you pushed yourself into his bear-like arms and clung to him. Nobody could hurt you when he was around. Alfie locked his arm around you securely, ensuring that if anyone even dare to try and approach, they wouldn’t be able to touch you. When Thomas finally lifted himself off of Ollie, he adjusted his blazer and then licked his lips. “Well, I’ll be on my way then.” He spoke gruffly, pushing his messy black hair out of his eyes. You stiffened in your baker’s arms at the voice and the gangster instantly knew what had happened. “Ollie.” He barked. “Would you please take her downstairs and make sure she’s alright, mh?” His right-hand man was up in seconds. Alfie wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t need an explanation of what had happened. Ollie wiped the blood away from his lip before he moved toward you, smoothly grabbing ahold of your arm before hurriedly leading you away from the room. The second you and Ollie had reached the bottom of the stairs, you heard the roar from Alfie’s lips. The words that spewed from his lips were incoherent, simply muffled, but loud. Ollie pulled you from your thoughts, leading you down the hall and into a room of safety. He needed to tend to his wounds, but he needed to keep a close eye on you as well. He could tell you were distant, no doubt scared after what had happened. “Sit down there.” He ushered to the sofa in the corner. “Alfie’s probably going to be a while, so just get comfy.” Opening the white cabinet, Ollie dragged out a first aid kit. The inside was jam-packed with necessities, but he simply pulled out some rubbing alcohol and a tissue. You watched him intently, studying the way he wiped the blood away that fell from his nose before he stuck a clean swab of tissue in his nostril to prevent more bleeding. He rubbed the alcohol along the cut on his upper lip, not wincing in the slightest before he gave attention to the mark on his cheek. Lifting the icepack, he turned to set it in the icebox in the corner before looking to you as you spoke up. “Thank you.” Your voice was sweet, it reminded him of the days he spent as a child, laying outside in the garden with his younger sister as they ate popsicles and watched the butterflies fly above them. He frowned at the brief memory before looking to you. He wasn’t sure why he had had such a strong disliking toward you, but after today, things would surely change. He opened another cabinet and handed you a new tie to lace through the holes on the front of your dress. “You’ll need to re-tie that before Alfie comes down or else he’s going to continue to be angry.” You nodded in understanding, tongue tracing your lips. “I’ve got to go check that everything’s okay, I’m going to lock this door. Only Alfie has the other key to get in, so you’ll be okay.” Again, you nodded, giving no verbal reply. Ollie smiled lightly before excusing himself. Leaving the room, you heard the lock click audibly before you were left in the silence, alone with your thoughts as you changed the lace out on your dress.

———————————————————

Shadows. They loomed over you. The floor beneath you was wet, ice cold against your bare skin. The solid ground nipped at your pale flesh, sticking to you with an impossible grip. You were in the middle of the alley, staring up at the dark buildings that towered higher than any buildings you’d ever seen before. The roofs nearly kissed the moon, stars shining brightly above, peaceful opposed to what you were experiencing on the ground below. Hushed whispers pressed against your ear and hot fingers ran along your body. You couldn’t move. The scream you wanted to let free was caught in your chest, blocked by the bubble in your throat. You couldn’t make a sound. The air was so cold, it froze your lungs with every inhale. It was more painful to breathe right now, than to suffer the itching burn in your chest from suffocation. You were alone. And yet, not. You could feel the presence of someone lurking as they looked down at you. Touching you. Feeding off of you. Your fear was their reward and boy, they were succeeding. You dared to lift your arm, but the only thing you accomplished was more pain. The ground clung to your skin, threatening to pull your flesh from your body, so you stopped struggling. You lay still and waited for whatever was to come.

“Y/N?” Your name echoed down the alley. “Y/N.” He said again, a little harsher. You shut your eyes, trying to plug your ears mentally since you couldn’t do it physically. The world around you seemed to crumble when you recognized the voice to belong to none other than Tommy Shelby. “Y/N.” He hissed again, daring you to open your eyes, but you wouldnt. You refused to look at the cocky, blue-eyed, cigarette-loving, full of himself, bastard. “Y/N!” Your eyes shot open and you were back in the room Ollie had left you in. Your breathing was heavy, loud and jagged. “You’re alright.” Alfie assured, arms curling around you securely so he could drag you off of the sofa and on to his lap on the floor. “It was just a bad dream, yeah, just a bad fucking dream, pet.” Your heart felt like it was being squeezed. Only the alley had been a dream, not the events that took place in Alfie’s office. Your arms locked around his neck in a vice and you tried to mold your body into his, wanting nothing more than to become one so you could escape the horrible memories crowding your brain. Alfie kissed your shoulder gently, drawing you into him as close as he was able. “Pet, it’s okay, right, I’ve handled it.” You drew back to inspect the man, ensuring he didn’t have any marks. Your eyes raked down his face, along his neck and then arms. He was completely okay— well, until you saw his hand. His knuckles were already tinted purple, no doubt bruised from whatever damage he had done to his mate, Thomas. The very thought of the name made your throat close and the bile rise. Alfie brushed your hair away from your face, studying you for marks. You had clumsy teeth imprints in your skin from where the fucking peaky bastard had dared to try and mark you. Alfie kissed your sore, before parting his lips and leaving his own mark on your skin. It wasn’t the time for this, but god it felt good, and it made you forget about what had originally been there. His beard tickled your sensitive skin and created a delicious contrast with the hickey he left behind. “I’m sorry I left you alone with him, pet. I should’ve fucking known, yeah, he was being a fucking—“

Straightening on his lap, you pressed your lips against his own to silence him. “Shut up. I don’t want you blaming yourself. It was nobody’s fault. Nobody’s, but his.” Brushing Alfie’s hair out of his eyes, you bit your bottom lip visibly. “My sickness is gone.” You pointed out, attempting to draw a smile from him. You didn’t want to talk about the events from earlier. Not right now anyway. His eyes lifted to yours, brows furrowing in confusion. He’d never understand how you could go through something like that, but still be so optimistic in the end and focus on the positives. The man grunted breathily. “Because you took your fucking medicine, yeah, see, I told you.” Your heart skipped a beat at the grin he let escape and your lips met his again for a delicate kiss. “Mh, yes, yes you did, thank you.” Giving him all the credit because you loved to see Alfie with a bit of an ego boost, you pushed your face into his neck and let the rest of the world fade away. Alfie was everything in the world to you. “I need to go by my grandmas and pick up a few more things tomorrow if you want to go with me?” You whispered sleepily as the silence washed over the room and you couldn’t think of anything else to say. Alfie gave a short nod, afraid to move. He could feel you drifting off and he figured maybe if he let you nap, but he stuck around to hold you, then you wouldn’t have any nightmares. “Anything you want, pet.” Your breaths were much deeper over a span of just a few seconds and before you were lost in a world of obliviousness, you sleepily whispered in response to his words. “All I want is you.” The entirety of Alfie’s body relaxed. There was no tension in his muscles as he held you against him. He smiled in your hair, nuzzling into you further. He had to agree, all he wanted in life was you as well.

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Part 1   Part 2  Part 3   Part 4   Part 5    Part 7   Part 8     Part 9

Tagged: @thatsamegirl @peakyhoegh @ihclipse @callisen @hardygal69 @centerhabit @favouritereadings @buckypetal15 @captstefanbrandt @lucacangettathisass @seremedyxiii @astro-sweetheart @goodiesintheclosetlove @fangirlfreakingout @kelly-fasel

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Hi, guys! I hope you enjoy this part!! Im sorry I’m falling behind ): I will be posting another story today, I’m just not sure how many or which one yet!! ❤️ thank you for being so patient with me and remember requests are always open ( even though I am slacking on posting omg ahah )

[of-hell-and-hyacinths]

so this is for @skate-fast-eat-grass and anybody interested in the dysfunctional gays. this is going to be pt 1, rhys is going to be meeting miranda and malcolm in pt 2 (the ending is rushed i’m so sorry)

Rhys Winters wakes up in a cold sweat, but for a horrifying second he thinks it may be a pool of his own blood.

Everything is bright, it’s burning, he doesn’t know where up is and down is, he doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know how to breathe. He doesn’t know how to think.

When his breathing steadies and the world stops spinning, he looks down. No blood. Not his blood. But he’s certain he saw blood just a second ago—

And the snapshot of Daniel and dad practically bathing in it flashes brightly in his brain, and his stomach clenches with terror. He wants to throw up. He can’t bring himself to open his mouth.

Daniel and dad, Daniel and dad, where are they?

At a further look, Rhys seems to be in a medical clinic. He opens his mouth to yell for his family, but no words are enough, and his brain hurts too hard to produce anything. So he just makes a strangled gasping noise.

“Oh, hey,” says a soft voice from across the room. It comes from a boy about his age who looks like his hair is threaded from pure gold, and his eyes mirror the sky outside.

Rhys gulps and finally says, “My — Daniel and dad? Where are they?”

A second ago, the boy looked like sunshine. Now his face falls, sympathy spreading across his features. Rhys feels his heart sink.

“They’re alive, right?” he rasps.

And from the way the blonde boy starts walking towards him, sitting on the edge of his bed, he already knows the answer.

The boy leans forward to pat his shoulder gently. Rhys can’t see his face properly, or anything properly for that matter, because now the world is blurry. Rhys is filled with the urge to scream at the top of his lungs, but his throat is too thick.

“I’m so sorry,” blonde boy mutters, shuffling around to offer a tissue. Rhys takes it, wiping at the tears trickling down his cheeks. No use; more fall down.

There’s silence for a little while. Nobody speaks, and there’s no sound except for Rhys’s sniffling. His stomach feels hollow, but everything else of stone.

“I’m Will,” says the boy when Rhys wipes at his face again. “Want to tell me your name?”

“Rhys.” (He can’t bring himself to say anymore.)

Will nods. “I like that name. How old are you?”

For a second, Rhys tries not to think about how old Daniel never will be. Eighteen was the very oldest he’d ever reach. “Twelve,” he mutters, shaking those thoughts out of his head.

“Me too!” Will brightens. “You know, I have a sister and she’s our age. She’s really good at cheering people up.”

Rhys doesn’t know what to say, nor does he want to say anything, so he lets Will finish.

“I think it would be good for you to meet her. Make a friend, y’know?”

Talking to people doesn’t seem like it would cheer him up. But Rhys doesn’t want to be alone, and when he’s not completely miserable he needs friends. So he nods weakly, but does nothing more.

Something flashes in Will’s eyes. “Come on,” he says nervously, “we’ll get you some camp clothes. And … there’s a couple things to explain.”

————————————

“When will I be claimed again?”

Will attempts to not look dismayed. “Well, we don’t know exactly. But it’ll happen soon, don’t worry!”

Rhys feels vaguely suspicious of that statement, but he can’t gather the energy to probe any further. Camp Half-Blood is strange and full of wonders, he observes as Will takes him around, and it’s going to be his home. Permanently. Or at least for a very, very long time. And he’s never had a home that’s lasted for more than a few years. (How should he feel about that? Dad and Daniel would laugh.)

In the distance, he can make out the figures of a boy and a girl in an archery range. The height difference is very noticeable; the girl is basically a midget. Also, she has cool hair. Half-shaved, long and dark brown.

They near closer to the archers, and from what Rhys can see, both of them are incredible shots.

“Hey, Bella,” Will says cheerfully. “New camper over here.”

The girl with cool hair — Bella — spins around, a hand on her quiver. “Hey!” she greets. Will beckons her over and pulls her aside for a minute.

Rhys wanders towards the boy, who’s notching an arrow but quite obviously listening to Will and Bella’s conversation. He can’t see the boy’s face from behind him, and he’s content to watch him shoot. Plus, it filters out the conversation. Rhys knows what they’re saying.

Will mutters something along the lines of “his mortal family just died, be easy on him” or whatever. Rhys’s eyes burn. He catches Bella shoot him a pitying glance, and avert her eyes just as quickly.

Suddenly the boy lowers his bow and turns towards Rhys — and maybe it’s just Rhys’s brain being weird, but he’s abnormally pretty. Dark hair, light brown skin, freckles, and a little smirk. His face is sculpted like marble. His eyes flicker around like everything seems funny, like he’s in on a joke that nobody else is.

“Cat got your tongue?” the boy says lightly. His voice is deep and rich as dark chocolate.

“Uh,” Rhys says eloquently, brain fizzling out.

The boy’s brown eyes sparkle, and he extends a hand. “I’m Adrien Liou.”

“Rhys Winters,” Rhys replies, shaking Adrien’s hand which is colder than it should be.

Then Bella barges in, shoving Adrien aside. “Move over,” she complains.

“I am.”

“Your ego takes up too much space,” she teases.

Adrien’s face falls back into a smirk again. “Says you.”

Side by side, Bella and Adrien could almost be mistaken for twins. They speak the same way, with slang and deep voices and a tone like it’s all just fun and games to them. Rhys thinks he likes it.

“So, Rhys,” Bella says, scrambling for small talk and notching an arrow, “are you undetermined?”

“Uh … undetermined?”

Bella opens her mouth to explain, but Adrien cuts her off.

“Bro, what is up with your voice?” he exclaims, eyes wide.

For a second, Rhys’s mind goes blank for the umpteenth time that day. Then it strikes him that he is in America, where people actually pronounce their r’s and say their a’s a little differently.

“It’s just an accent,” he dismisses. “I wasn’t born in America.”

Adrien nods wisely. “Antarctican?”

Rhys splutters. “What?”

“Antarctica!” Adrien repeats. “Yeah, man, you kind of look like a polar bear.” He pokes at Rhys’s curly mop of pale-blonde hair.

To Rhys’s further exasperation, Bella lowers her bow and scans him thoughtfully. “He actually does,” she murmurs.

“Uh.” Rhys doesn’t know what to say. He just lost Dad and Daniel, and now he has to deal with this? He wonders if they would mind so terribly if he started crying out of pure exhaustion. “I’m from Australia, actually.”

Adrien’s eyebrows furrow together. It might be slightly attractive. “What’s that? Do they have polar bears there?”

“Nah,” Bella says, “bad heat, kangaroos, vegemite.”

“Something like that,” Rhys agrees.

Again, Bella jumps to change the subject. “How old are you, Mr. Kangaroos and Vegemite?”

Daniel will never be any older than eighteen, the voice at the back of his head sing-songs.

Shut up, Rhys says back. Dad would never let him say shut up. Especially not to Daniel, but Daniel isn’t h

Shut up.

Bella and Adrien are looking at him expectantly, and Rhys realises he must’ve zoned out for a second.

“Sorry,” he says awkwardly, “I’m twelve.”

“Lucky,” Bella grumbles. “I’m turning twelve in August.”

Adrien grins like the cat with the cream. “Ha! Mine’s in July.”

Bella eyes him like whatever force that was repressing her from shooting her arrow at Adrien’s face is melting away slowly.

She doesn’t reply, and silence with Adrien and Bella feels awkward. Wrong. Unnatural. See, they never stop talking.

A question pops into Rhys’s mind. “Do the two of you know who your … gods are?”

“Godly parents,” Bella corrects. “Yeah. My dad is Apollo. God of the sun, music, poetry, archery, healing, maybe a couple billion other things.”

“And my mom is Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty,” Adrien adds. “You can tell because I’m beautiful.”

Yes, he is, Rhys’s brain says.

Shut up, his brain says again. Because he is not gay, thank you very much. He thinks back to the little twirl in his tummy that came whenever he saw Aaliyah Ryan with the brown hair and apple-green eyes every day for three years at primary school. It reassures him. He thinks back to watching cartoons in the cinema with Daniel, and the pretty cartoon girls on the big screen that he would marry in a heartbeat.

Then why does he have that same fizzy, exhilarating feeling at the bottom of his stomach and the middle of his chest and the back of his brain whenever he looks at Adrien? Adrien isn’t a girl. He doesn’t have delicate features or a high, silky voice, or long, shiny hair. He’s nothing like a girl. But for some reason Rhys still feels the same way he does around pretty girls around this one pretty boy.

Rhys isn’t gay. Adrien is just extremely gorgeous. That’s all.

“Cool,” Rhys says, shaking away his thoughts.

He stays there at the archery range for maybe another half-hour, listening to Adrien and Bella’s pointless banter. They never stop talking, and it’s always talking about stupid things. It’s slightly exhausting.

Will arrives with an apologetic smile midway through a heated argument about High School musical. Rhys has never been so relieved in his life. It’s not that he doesn’t like Adrien and Bella — he does. But being around them in such a miserable state is like being around two hyperactive dogs while trying to relax at a park.

“So, how’d it go?” Will asks. The sun is starting to set, throwing streaks of gold across a pink and blue sky. It’s cooler now, and Rhys can hardly believe how long this day has been.

“They’re, uh.” Rhys struggles for adequate words. “... interesting.”

[kpopyourcherryy]

Unholy - (M)

A/n; Inspired by my moodboard 

Genre; S m u t 

Length; 1,500+ words

Kink(s); blasphemy kink, slight Daddy kink, breath play, slight degradation, etc. 

At church, everyone knew Father YoungWoo as a holy man, but outside of the holy grounds, only you knew he was sin incarnate. If only the crowd that gathered faithfully for Sunday mass could see their beloved priest now- the sudden exhibitionistic thought made you silently giggle to yourself as he straddles his lap. 

Tilting his head slightly, YoungWoo glared at you- licking though sinfully plush lips of his as he cocked a brow.  “What’s going on in that little mind of yours, huh angel?” He smoothly purred while running his blunt fingernails along your outer thighs. 

Immediately a soft, impish smirk sprawled across your ironically angelic face as you shook your head. Resting your hands on his toned chest, you let out an airy sigh, “Oh it was nothing.~” You playfully hummed, knowing damn well he wasn’t fond of you keeping things from him- no matter how small. 

His large hands moved up your body, caressing your curves for a moment before shooting up- one wrapping around your delicate throat as the other entangled itself in your curls. His fingertips pressed into the junctures of your throat while the other gave a hair a solid tug.  “Oh baby girl,” Woo rumbled, barring his teeth ever-so-slightly as he spoke. Shaking his head, he began clicking his tongue; tsk, tsk, tsk. “You know better than to lie to me. Lying is a sin, angel.” 

Your eyes burned as tears pricked the corners of them. You could feel your lips slowly begin to tingle as he increased the pressure around your throat; cutting off your air.  Moving in closer, YoungWoo ghosted his lips over your trembling lips and without warning, he pulled his hand off you- allowing you to breathe. 

Immediately, you took quick deep breaths as you suppressed your coughing. The sudden rush of air scorched your briefly deprived lungs with every gasp, “Now, tell me the truth, babygirl..” He lowly snarled against your chest, his hands still near your throat just as a reminder of how easy it would be for him to wrap them around your neck if you lied again. “Tell me, what’s going on in that mind of yours.” 

Despite his temperament, you just couldn’t help but egg him on. You adored the way he took complete control over you- your mind, your body. The way he just tossed you around like a ragdoll and manhandled you while growling the most degrading things at you turned you on like no other. 

“Mhmm, well..” You began, your tone painted with false innocence as you pretended to obey his wishes “I was thinking that maybe you should make-” Before you could utter another snarky word his hands were back around your throat, but this time he lifted you off his lap as he stood.  He kept you there watching as your small hands rose up- weakly grasping his wrists while rasped whimpers escaped your bluing lips. 

“Such a mouthy little thing, aren’t you?” He grumbled, releasing his grip without warning- allowing you to drop down onto the carpeted floor. Tilting his head, the young priest felt the same undeniable urge to dominate every part of you he felt the first time he laid eyes on you. Just like him, to an outsiders perspective you were this innocent little girl that everyone adored, but to him, you were a disobedient pain slut that needed to be reminded of her place.  Raising his foot, he pressed the top of his foot against your tummy, “Get on all fours..” He snarled, assisting you slightly. “I want you to crawl to the altar and bring my Bible, little girl. Go, now.” 

Without a second thought, you started crawling towards the door of Father YoungWoo’s private office. You could feel his predatory eyes burn into your backside as your hips moved with you, his strong gaze did nothing but make the heat between your legs yearn for him.  As you reached the door, you slowly rose to your knees- turning the doorknob before pushing it open. “Such a pretty sight, you are, angel.” He cooed, smirking as you turned back. “No one told you to stop, go on.” 

God was he smug. 

Pfft. You mumbled, rolling your eyes as you resumed making the short journey. Crawling out onto the now dimly lit stage that sat before the pews, that were normally filled with people from the community, you couldn’t fight the little chuckle that escaped you. They were so clueless to the sin that took place in such a holy place. 

Once you reached the tall, wooden altar, you rose to your feet. Taking your lower lip between your teeth, your eyes stayed locked on the brown faux leather Bible that laid there open on the small platform. Your eyes immediately fell on one particular verse, “John 1:9..” You softly hummed, your fingertips softly underlined the religious writing as you began reading to yourself, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” 

Your mind wandered with lustful thoughts as you read and reread the verse before you finally broke free with a soft giggle. Closing the holy book, your hand ran against as you closed its cover then finally picked it up- putting it in your mouth by its spine while you got back on all fours.  When you made your way back into the room, Father YoungWoo was standing from his seat- shirtless, pulling his belt free from the loops of his onyx colored jeans. Your eyes wandered his muscular build for a moment or two before you finally decided to make your presence noticed- not that you had to though. 

That smug half-grin of his painted across his devilishly handsome face as he turned to meet your wandering gaze.  “Like what you see, pet?” He teased, turning to reveal his signature silver cross still hanging around his neck- as well as the demon-like monster tattoo that was placed on his lower stomach among the others that littered his body. 

As you crawled up to him, your blood ran hot through your body. Everything about him drew you in- he was the ultimate temptation. Sitting before him, you dropped the Bible, “Do you even have to ask?” You playfully retorted, idly resting on your knees as you waited for his next command. 

Nodding, Youngwoo scoffed as he ran his long fingers through this jet black hair. “Pick it up, babygirl.” He softly demanded, cocking a brow as he peered down at the holy book. “Pick it up and take a seat.” 

A sly grin appeared on your angelic face as your stubborn, bratty mind urged you to challenge him once more.  “Hmm, how about you make me?” You sweetly purred, licking your berry-stained lips as your lust-filled gaze locked with his and immediately you could see the sadistic switch inside him flip. 

His eyes instantly went from soft and hazy to dark and cold within a millisecond of your response. He despised disobedience.  Leaning down, YoungWoo roughly entangled his hand in a fistful of your hair- keeping your gaze up towards him as he harshly picked the Bible off the floor, raising it up towards your face before yanking you up off the ground. 

“Get the fuck up.” He brutishly snarled, making sure to pull your hair the hardest he could as he led you back over to the small couch you were previously straddling him on. “Sit.” He barked, practically tossing you down on to it; placing the book of God onto your lap.  “Look at me, y/n.” He demanded, tapping your chin with his index finger. 

Immediately, your doe-like eyes turned up. Your eyes burned as tears threatened to fill your waterline and your scalp ached so badly you swore you could still feel his hand wrapped in your hair. 

Gently, the priest began stroking your jawline then cupping your cheek in his hand; running the pad of his thumb against your cheekbone.  “Are you going to be a good girl for me now?” He smoothly muttered while his large hand inched its way down to your neck. “Or does Daddy have to hurt you a bit more, hm?” 

Your heart nearly stopped yet simultaneously sped up all at once the moment you registered his words. Hearing him refer to himself as Daddy as he threatened you did nothing but cause your heat to throb for him.  Biting your lower lip, you obediently nodded. “Ye-Yes, Sir..” You softly replied. 

“Mhmm,” He purred, cocking a brow as his fingertips traced the bruising sides of your neck. “Now..” He began, breaking eye contact as his finger went from outlining your supple flesh to the book’s faux leather cover before he lifted it; handing it to you. 

“I want to watch you touch yourself, babygirl, but while you do that- recite some verses from the bible.” 

“If you mess up once, I won’t allow you to cum and I’ll turn that pretty little ass black and blue. Understand, angel?”

To be continued~~

[switchdnp]

you should write something abt one of their first times but whoevers bottoming gets uncomfortable but wants to keep fucking so they switch halfway through fucking

here u are ryn u nerd

word count: 1752

warnings: gratuitous amounts of fingering, like light spanking for a second, not much else its v fluffy

Dan wants this.He assures himself with every inch of his lovestruck, fluttering heart that he wants this.He wants it as Phil’s lips suck hickeys into his sensitive neck, pretty colors blooming on the peachy tan skin.He wants it as Phil’s mouth travels lower, lifting up his sweater and kissing the soft skin of his tummy.He wants it as Phil takes his cock into his mouth and bobs nice and slow, pretty blue eyes watering when the tip hits the back of his throat.And he still wants it—he really, really does, when Phil fingers him open, promises of how nice it was gonna feel when he filled him up slipping past sore lips and making Dan whimper.But even thought he wants it, something sick settles in his stomach when the head of Phil’s dick is at his rim.There’s a burn as it presses inside and suddenly Dan’s shaking for different reasons, thighs taut and lower lip quivering between biting teeth, trying his best to not look pained.

He opened his eyes—when had he closed them?—to find Phil staring nervously at him, worry overtaking the lust in his gaze.He muttered out the softest “Are you okay?” Dan had ever heard in his life, and that was enough for him to call this off.

“I-I’m sorry, I just think I can’t—I don’t know I just—I don’t think I feel comfortable being… penetrated?”Dan cringed at the word, it felt like something a forty-year-old sex ed teacher or badly made erotica would use, and it didn’t describe what he wanted oh so badly at all.He wanted Phil to be inside him, he wanted to feel the slow drive in and out, have his hips make sharp, noisy contact with his ass as the thrusts got faster and faster.But something inside him just wouldn’t let Phil be inside him, not tonight at least.

“Oh, well, you don’t need to do anything you don’t want to do love, I’ll always respect your limits, no matter what.”Phil reassured, positioning himsef so his dick wasn’t quite literally threatening to push past Dan’s rim at any time.

“Do you want to stop or…?”

“No, I think–I just–could I top?”The question comes out stuttered and nervous, but Phil’s eyes get wide with something that definitely wasn’t apprehension, and all of Dan’s nerves get settled in an instant.

“Of course, just let me stretch myself.”Phil explained, grabbing the lube and spreading some over his fingers, pressing two inside of himself at once.He gasped, scissoring himself open as quick as he could, flinching a few times when he went just a bit too fast.Phil had never been one for patience, and it was evident in the way he fingered himself, thrusting in and out quick and frantic without any build up, and hips riding down onto his own fingers when he still couldn’t hit his spot.Dan almost wanted to chuckle at his pitiful expression, eyes clenched shut and lip in an almost pout, desperation evident on his face.

“You were so gentle stretching me, what happened to that Mr. All-Experienced?”He giggled, laugh growing stronger when Phil peeked open an eye to glare at him.

“Don’t care if I hurt myself, jus’ wanna be ready for you.”Phil insisted, practically jamming his fingers in and out now, needy for any touch to his prostate.

“You sure look like you’re trying to do something more than just ‘get ready’.”Dan continued to tease, hoping the impish pestering would get Phil to be at least a little softer on himself.

“I’m not! I just-I just can’t hit my prostate, it’s always been hard for me, and I just wanna seem like I know what I’m doing.”Phil whined, breaking off into laughter at the end of his sentence.They both knew Phil wasn’t quite as experienced as he put off; he’d been a late bloomer, and although he knew more than Dan with a few things, he honestly was still experimenting and figuring things out himself.

“Can I help?”Dan asked, fingers trailing over the back of Phil’s hand like a question, eager to wrap around and completely envelop the thin, delicate wrist of his boyfriend.Phil’s breathe hitched, and he nodded a yes, letting Dan hold his wrist now and guide his fingers in and out in a soft, slow place.

“Keep your fingers straight for me, okay?”Dan directed, moving his hand a bit faster now, savoring the little wet noises that accompanied every movement—sometimes using too much lube could have nice side effects.He pushed Phil’s fingers deeper, keeping note of the steady, admittedly faster than usual pulse he could feel against his thumb.

“Alright, now crook them.”

“Dan, I’m not sure—ah,”Phil jolted as he jabbed right into his own prostate, squirming at the intense stimulation.Dan was smirking like the absolute fucker he was, fringe damp and plastered to his forehead, and cheeks flushed bright with a cocky pride.

“Feels nice, huh?”He teased, giggling at Phil’s short-lived glare, expression cut off with a moan.Dan slid out Phil’s fingers and replaced them with his own, groaning at the soft, tight heat surrounding him.He couldn’t wait to get to feel that on his cock, feel Phil stretched around him and clenching like he could barely handle it.

He pressed into Phil’s spot, rubbing in circles and relishing the little “ah!”s he let out with every touch.Phil was much more sensitive than Dan could have imagined, practically melting at everything he did, head now tucked into the crook of Dan’s neck, moans muffled against the warm skin.He was rolling his hips in time with Dan’s thrusts, whining and needy for more, and Dan didn’t think he’d ever seen something so hot and precious at the same time.

Finally Dan pulled out his fingers, hushing Phil’s irritated whimper with a small smack to his ass.It was unintended and admittedly weak, but Phil gasped anyway, pushing back into the contact.

“Again,”He mumbled, wiggling his bum in a way that made Dan laugh again, loud and unfiltered and absolutely lovely to Phil, if a bit teasing in the context.Still, Dan did as he asked, squeezing one cheek in his hand before slapping down once more, feeling the soft skin grow hot under his fingers.

“You like that, yeah?”Dan asked, rubbing over the agitated flesh.Phil nodded, pushing Dan’s hand away and sitting up, positioning the head of his cock at his hole and watching his eyes widen as he sank down.He squirmed as he adjusted, resting his hands on Dan’s chest and smiling down at the boy he had so much love for, affection burning in his chest.

“You’re pretty.”He muttered, starting to slowly grind his hips.Dan groaned, back arching off the bed, accidentally pressing deeper into Phil.Phil shuddered, bouncing harder then, thighs straining with the effort.He was panting between moans, as it turned out, riding a dick took a lot more energy than he expected, and it was starting to take a toll on his stamina.Dan noticed, reaching up to cup Phil’s cheek, the touch sweet and reassuring.

“Want me to take over? You don’t have to ride me if it’s too much.”He said, grinning when Phil nodded a shy, blushy yes.Dan flipped them over, adjusting Phil’s legs around his waist, and fucking in and out almost as slow as he had fingered him.

“Daan, faster, please!”Phil whined, the lazy pace driving him absolutely insane.Dan complied, but not without another smack to his ass, playfully reprimanding his boyfriend.His hips drove in and out, hard and fast and just the way Phil wanted, the way he needed.Phil sobbed as he hit his prostate, it felt so much stronger this way, so much more intense.He was choking out pleas with every thrust, begging like music to Dan’s ears.

“Dan, fuck, feels so good, so deep, shit.”

“Fuck me so good, so nice inside me.”

“Harder, please go fucking harder.”

Dan couldn’t believe he was getting to pleasure his idol like this, that he was in his bed, fucking him into his mattress, and Phil couldn’t get enough of it.His thighs were trembling around Dan’s sides, and he knew he was close.Dan doubled his efforts then, grabbing Phil’s hips in his hands and pulling him down farther, moving him up and down with each pivot in and out.Phil started babbling, incoherent keens of “close!” spilling past his lips like he couldn’t control it, and Dan almost wanted to coo at his desperation—he was adorable even while getting fucked.

“You gonna come for me? Gonna come without even being touched?”Dan teased, pushing Phil closer and closer to his release with every word.

“You’ll look so pretty when you come, always so beautiful, aren’t you?”Dan praised, smiling when Phil giggled and hid his face, flushed all the way down to his chest.

“Just a little bit more, I know you’re close baby, just let go.”Dan purred, and Phil tumbled over the edge, coming with a sob of Dan’s name.He shivered and convulsed through his orgasm, writhing like he couldn’t bear the overwhelming pleasure.Dan fucked him through it, coming himself as Phil spasmed and clenched around him.

They panted together as they both came down from their highs, Dan’s head resting against Phil’s chest, kissing at the bright red skin.Dan pulled out, and Phil whined when he felt his cum leak out of him.

“Gross,”He giggled, heart beating just a little bit faster when Dan’s fingers entwined sleepily with his.They fell asleep like that, exhausted and sated, and probably going to need to clean the sheets later, but not really caring.Tomorrow morning they’d deal with the lube still open on the bedside drawer, or the cum stains Dan had barely cleaned up with a paper towel, but for now, they could relax, basking in each other’s affection and company.

[dontbethatshank]

One Day

Request: “Can I have a request where in TDC the reader visits Gally in his apartment and she tells him that she's been pregnant with his baby since the Glade and his reaction is sadness because he's worried the baby won't like him because of what he did to chuck? And also in the Gally imagine can you make the reader explain that he's going to make a great father and gally becomes more happy about it and less sad.”

A/N: I set this as it’s actual apartments and just kinda bullshitted the scene like always, whoops.

Jesus. H. Christ.

Hunting down your boyfriend was harder than fighting off a Griever while in the Scorch, you decided. But you found him. Gally came back, you all saw him - but he kind of... disappeared. You would wake up, and his chores/jobs would be done. Firewood chopped, storage boxes built, blades sharpened, supplies were organized into boxes and labeled. But you never saw him - he was a creature of the night, but you knew he was avoiding you. You knew he didn’t want to look you in the eye. And part of you didn’t want to see him either - he killed your brother. He killed Chuck. But you knew it wasn’t him. You knew it. But he didn’t believe that.

Building E. Level 4. Hall 4C. Room 12.

Behind this door in front of you was Gally. A three inch, dark brown, mahogany wood door and a locking mechanism separated you from the love of your life. Your hand nervously trailed lightly over your stomach, your teeth sucked in your lips, and your hips swayed. You had second thoughts. You didn’t know if you could do this. If you could say it. But the door decided for you.

The door popped open and a rough, dry voice muttered. “Jack. Seriously. Go away. I finished my chores and I’ll go check the list in a few-” Gally’s tired voice said, rehearsed. But you cleared your throat and looked up, seeing the tall boy looking down, not even really paying attention. “It isn’t Jack. It’s me. And your chores for tomorrow are to get fire wood and to build new shelves. 8 feet high, 4 feet wide, 3 feet deep,” you said, before pushing the door open and sliding in yourself. Part of you believed - knew - Gally would shut the door once his mind registered all you said. So you left him no choice.

Gally shut the door, turning to look at you, his eyes had bags under them, his chest had gathered hair, his shorts had a random blue stain on them, and his feet were dirtier than your choice of vocabulary. “Y/N...” Gally mumbled, scratching the side of his neck as he glanced to the other side of his small apartment. You took a seat on a chair, your eyes flicking to the chair next to you. With a sigh, Gally reluctantly sat, but he sat on the couch a few feet from you, his eyes leerie to look at you as his head hung a bit lowly and his hands remained clasped together. He was just as opposed to this idea as you were standing outside of his door just three minutes ago.

“Look... we need, we need to talk, Gal,” you sighed, fingers raking through your hair. You needed to cut it - you hadn’t cut it since the Maze and it had grown ragged. “Y/N, I... I can’t deal with this right now. I’m sorry I just-” Gally began, an excuse bubbling up in his throat quickly and as if on command.

“I’m pregnant.”

The words came. The fell out. Easily. And Gally sat in his exact position, barely moving, his breathing seeming to stop. His eyes looked at you fully now, hurt almost. Confused. Asking so many questions at once. Your heart stuttered and you swallowed the fear in the back of your throat. He was a father. He deserved to know. You knew that.

“You’re the father. I... I 've been pregnant since the Glade. I... I found out only days before we escaped and... I didn’t know how to say it. Then everything happened and just,” you began and let out a deep breath. You closed your eyes, trying to find the words - hoping they were written on the back of your eyelids. While you thought, you suddenly felt someone's hands on you and jumped.

Looking down, you saw Gally kneeling in front of you, between your legs. His ear right above your belly button and his hands cradling on the lower of your sides. Your tummy was small. You were barely showing - you hoped it would be like that for most of the pregnancy, and it more than likely will honestly. Gally had a serene smile on his lips and you couldn’t help but feel proud. Feel like you were at home. Your hand easily covered his while your other hand slide into his hair and curled around the dark red, brown hair. Then Gally’s eyes looked up and they glossed over, his smile fading away as if it never existed.

“They’ll hate me. I killed their uncle. The baby is going to despise me,” Gally murmured, leaning back on his legs, his hand dropping to loosely lay on your lap. And your heart broke. You knew he was wrong - but you also realized your baby would never meet the beautiful light that was your little brother. And you wanted to cry for Chuck and you wanted to cry for Gally. And you wanted to cry to understand something.

“No, no, no. No Gal, no. They won’t. That wasn’t you. It was never you. It was WICKED. They... they killed Chuck. It wasn’t you. Our baby will love you. They’ll adore you, think you’re the most amazing person to exist,” you rambled, your hands finding his and holding them tightly. Gally turned his head tot he side and wiped angry, hurt filled tears from his eyes using his arm. His hands curled around yours and squeezed, his chest on fire and his body shaking from small sobs.

You cupped his cheeks and looked into the beautiful eyes that looked longingly into the night sky. And you saw the chapped pink lips that kissed all your burns and cuts every night and whispered a promise for a sweeter tomorrow. And you saw the freckles you counted when you couldn’t sleep and noticed he had a large one under his bottom lip you never noticed. And you saw the boy who loved so intensely and who tried so hard and always seemed to come up short in one way or another no matter how he acted. And your heart broke more than when Chuck died. Because you knew Chuck was happier, safer. He was watching you and giggling mumbling stupid jokes, waiting to see you again. He was okay. But Gally was in so much pain you could feel it radiating and rolling off in waves from his body.

It hurt to stand near him. You felt the pain and remorse. And it was such a suffocating mixture to inhale and move around in. It was terrifyingly saddening.

“Gally. Galileo. Look at me. Now. Look at me right now. This baby, our baby, is going to love you so much - so, so much. You will be the most amazing father just like you’re the most amazing boyfriend,” you said, a wicked and determined look twinkling in your eyes as you held his cheeks to force him to look at you as you spoke, “You’ll wake up and make our son or daughter pancakes when we don’t have work to do. You’ll teach them to build sheds and boxes and bed frames and bird houses. You’ll let them paint on your arms and you’ll cuddle teddy bears so they don’t think you’re alone at night. You’ll fight anyone who ever scares or harms your baby and will make sure they never have to live in the fears we did. You’ll sleep with our baby on your chest, a hand on their back, making sure they don’t fall or roll off - always protecting them even in your fucking sleep, you God damn fucking idiot.” 

You were crying. Tears streaming down your cheeks. “God, you fucking moronic bastard. You’re going to be the most amazing father and our child will never be able to forget you or replace you or hate you. Never,” you said, your voice hoarse now. Gally’s eyes were bright red and puffy, his body shaking ever so slightly from emotions and over stimulation. He pulled you down, pulling you onto the floor, his arms around your center as he hugged you close to his body. He felt the gentle curve and his heart swelled. He smelt the vanilla and lilac lotion and hair wash you still use even now somehow. And he knew.

Gally knew one day things would all fall into place. He knew one day things would make sense. And he knew that, one day, he’ll be almost as amazing at being a father as you are at being a mother already.

He just knew. And so did you. One day was your promise to your baby.