#wish i could give you more rouse but i literally just started in on it fully 🤡😭💀😂

[dayas]

👐🏻

👐🏽 From the upcoming third/penultimate installment of the I’ll Let You Ruin My Day series:

For Riven, Friday meant training. He had already been looking forward to kicking some ass on the battlefield, but now that he knew it was Sam’s ass specifically, well… that produced a special kind of joy.

Fic Writer Emoji Asks

[mistiell]

When you're lost in the Darkness

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Summary: Astarion suspects that you're afraid of the dark. What he doesn't know, is that not only will he soon be proven right, but he severely underestimated just how severe your fear is.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, nyctophobia, brief description of panic attack, possibly ooc Astarion, literally one use of y/n

A/N: Hey hi hello, I am back from the void for now. I would like to make a disclamier: I have not yet played BG3!! So, if anyone is out of character, I apologize!

---

Astarion has a theory.

A small and rather unimportant one, but a theory nonetheless.

It started when he noticed the way you set up your bed roll when the group makes camp for the night. You’re always as close to the fire as you can be without lighting yourself aflame, and when it dims to a certain point, he’s watched you rouse out of a dead sleep to stoke the coals and add more fuel. At first, he thought perhaps you were just prone to chills – he knows some people run cold when they sleep – but after lingering after one of your shared nights together, he came to realise that you’re actually more like a mostly-human furnace.

Then he noticed the way you linger around any sort of light source like a moth to a flame after the sun has set, and the way you fidget and glance over you shoulder every few minutes on the off chance your back is to the darkness.

He finds it strange. Granted, he thinks you’re strange for a variety of other reasons, but this pattern of behaviour is particularly puzzling to him. Which has lead him to his theory;

“You’re afraid of the dark.” He jests after watching you glance into the woods for the umpteenth time, aiming for teasing and realising he’s missed when your face falls into something akin to shame and discomfort.

You try to cover it with a scoff, rolling your eyes in a way he knows is meant to feign indifference, “I have far worse things to fear than the dark.” You spit those last two words, as if they taste bitter on your tongue. Firelight dances in your eyes as you keep your gaze trained firmly on him, even despite how much you look like you want too search for whatever it is you’ve convinced yourself is out there, intent on disproving him.

“True,” He smirks with a practiced ease, suddenly – strangely – desperate to ease the tension he’s just created, “But should you ever find yourself too afraid to sleep alone,” He leans in just a smidgen closer, grinning coquettishly, “My arms are always open.”

You snort, the tension in your shoulders ebbing just so as you chuckle, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“By all means, keep me in your thoughts as long as you wish, darling.” He hums, smile just a little softer than he intends when you genuinely laugh at that, the sound sweet and airy as it bubbles up from your throat.

“And with that, I’m off to bed.” He nearly mistakes incredulousness for fondness, but catches himself as you stand. Turning back for just a moment, you give him a smile so soft, it makes is gut twist with a feeling he’s a little unsure of, “Goodnight, Astarion.”

If he’d fed more recently, he’s sure his cheeks would be flushed. He blinks, clears his throat, “Sleep well, my sweet.”

Only days later, his theory is proven correct when you stumble upon some sort of abandoned cottage – House? Astarion’s not entirely sure – and, upon Gale’s insistence that it could be useful, decide to search it for wares.

“You do know there’s likely nothing of use in here, don’t you?” Shadowheart sighs impassively as she thumbs through a tattered book, slotting it back into place where she found it once she’s deemed it useless.

Gale huffs and rolls his eyes, “Well, we won’t know until we look, will we?”

“We won’t be finding much of anything if you two don’t quit your squabbling.” You quip before turning your attention back to the chest you were searching. You just barely lean into Astarion’s space, grinning impishly. He leans in just a little closer – only to hear you better, of course – as you whisper, “They’re like children, I tell you.”

Something shatters. You both turn just as Shadowheart fixes Gale with a stern look, “Hells, Gale, pay attention to where you’re going!”

“Wh- It’s not my fault!” Astarion raises a brow at their bickering, tutting amusedly, “Children, indeed.”

Huffing a laugh, your attention slides to a door on the far side of the room and move to investigate. After trying the handle and finding it jammed, it takes a good shove to get it open. The only thing that illuminates the small pantry is the light filtering in from the door you’ve just opened.

You seem content to simply skim over the contents of the room from where you’re standing until you spot something of interest, eyes lighting up with a little gasp.

Astarion takes your place in the doorway as you rush into the room after propping the door open with a nearby pail, curious, “What have you found?”

Snatching a little tin box off a shelf, you open it and beam, “Oh, I haven’t had this in ages!”

“What?” He asks again, a little impatient.

You hold it out to him, and when he comes closer to look over the lip of the tin, he finds a fair amount of shredded, aubergine coloured leaves inside.

He looks back to you, confused, “Tea?” “Tea.” You grin, holding it up to your nose and closing your eyes to revel in the fruity scent, “I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s delicious.”

With how delighted you are over finding it, he doesn’t doubt it.

“Well, at least we can tell the others our searching wasn’t in vain.” He turns, “Settle that dispute between Gale and Shadowhear-.” The toe of his boot bumps the pail, sending it rolling as the door swings shut and swathes the room in darkness.

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, but eventually, the door comes back into view, only now the faded sage green paint is a dull grey.

Just as he moves for the door, he’s startled by the clattering of metal and a loud bump. He whips around to ask what in the hells just happened, but the words die in his throat when he finds you pressed flat against the shelves on the far wall – which really isn’t that far considering there’s only about six feet between the two of you. He can hear your heart racing from where he’s standing, your breaths quick and shallow.

That theory he had just got a lot more important.

He calls your name and you flinch, gaze flitting in his general direction but never settling on him. You look well and truly petrified. “Darling, are you alright?”

It’s a terrible question considering you are very visibly not alright, but he can’t seem to come up with anything else fast enough.

“I can’t–.” Your voice cracks and you swallow, looking dreadfully close to tears as you squeeze your eyes shut and cover your face with your hands, “I can’t see you. I can’t see anything.”

“Hang on,” After trying the handle, he finds the door is jammed no matter how hard he yanks. He considers calling for Karlach or Wyll, but thinks better of it, not wanting to frighten you further. They’ll notice the two of you are missing and come looking eventually.

“Astarion.” His name from your lips pulls him from his thoughts. He usually loves hearing you say his name, even when your cross with him. But when it comes out like a pitiful mix between whisper and whimper, he finds his heart twists uncomfortably in his chest.

He turns back to you and stalls. Unsure, helpless. He wants desperately to comfort you, but he has no idea how. He goes over the many different ways he could try, and the many different ways you could react, before finally, “Tell me what you need.”

After a moment of hesitation, you hold out a trembling hand and he steps forward to take it without a second thought. You tense when his skin first meets yours, palms wet with tears as your breath hitches. You tug him closer to wrap your arms around his middle and cling to him like a lifeline, shaking terribly as you bury your face into his neck. He secures you to him with an arm around your back and a hand cupped over the nape of your neck. He can feel your heartbeat stuttering under his fingertips when they settle over your pulse.

You’re still gasping.

“You need to breathe, lovely.” He says it gently, voice void of his usual coquettish flare. The nickname is softer than what he’s used with you so far, and it feels and sounds more earnest than it should. He tries not to dwell on it as he soothes his palm up and down the length of your spine, “Try to mimic me. I’ll guide you, alright?” You nod, and when starts coaching you through each inhale and exhale, you do your best to follow.

It takes several breaths, but eventually, they grow deeper and stop catching in your chest. Your heart slows. Not by a lot, but enough that Astarion can stop worrying that you’ll work yourself into a panic induced fainting spell.

He guides you through a few more before asking, “Better?”

You nod. With your throat dried out from crying, your voice is rather croak-y when you reply, “A little.”

“You sound like a frog.” It startles a laugh from you, the sound letting Astarion breathe a little easier.

“I do!” You sniffle, still laughing. It makes him laugh too.

“What the hells is so funny in there?” Lae’zel shouts from the other side with all her usual charm.

“Frogs!” Astarion shouts back, and you giggle a little more.

There’s a few loud bangs as one of your friends attempts to open the door. He can feel you flinch with each one until finally, it bursts open, blessed light washing over the two of you despite Karlach towering in the doorway. Your body sags with relief, and a little, involuntary sound escapes you as a new wave of tears threatens to spill, this time for an entirely different reason.

“What happened in here?” Gale asks, looking wildly confused as you slip out of Astarion’s arms and wipe at your cheeks hastily. “Oh, erm,” You clear your throat awkwardly, gaze bouncing between the items the fell when you backed into the shelf before settling on the tea leaves. You look genuinely disappointed as you gesture vaguely towards the small pile on the floor, “I found a tea I really like and got upset when I dropped it.”

“Ah. I see.” Gale nods, still obviously perplexed. If any of them find the explanation odd, they don’t say anything.

Shadowheart leans around Karlach, “We should get a move on. There are only so many hours before sundown.”

“Right. Yes, that’s a good idea.” You nod, clearly thankful for an excuse to get the hell out of there as you squeeze past them and lead them outside.

Much to Astarion’s chagrin, Karlach turns when she notices he’s hung back, “Oi, Astarion. What are you doing?”

He glances between her and the pantry before huffing, “Just... Tell them to wait a moment.”

She narrows her eyes suspiciously but agrees, leaving him to tell you and the others. He makes his way back into the pantry for a moment before jogging outside to join you.

It’s a good few hours until you make camp, and another few before he finally plucks up the courage to approach you near your tent.

You notice him striding over and smile at the sight of him, “Astarion! To what to I owe the pleasure?”

“I come bearing gifts.” He announces dramatically, hoping his puckish grin will be enough to mask how incredibly fucking nervous he truly is.

“For me?” You ask, cocking your head slightly to one side.

He rolls his eyes playfully, “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, would I?”

“Well obviously, I just meant–,” You huff and shake your head, chuckling incredulously, “Never mind. What have you got for me?”

He holds out the tin and watches surprise and confusion flash over your face in quick succession before something unbearably soft settles over your features.

Taking it from him, you’re quick to pop the lid off. You gasp when you lay eyes on the contents, eyes wide when you look back at him with such wonder, it nearly knocks the wind out of him, “How did you–?”

“I salvaged what I could off the top of the pile. I– erm,” He clears his throat, “I thought it would be wasteful to leave perfectly good tea behind when at least one of us could enjoy what’s left of it. Irresponsible, even.”

You huff a laugh. There’s no mistaking the fondness this time.

“You’re absolutely right. That would be irresponsible of us.” Your smile shifts into something heart achingly earnest as you step closer and lean up to peck his cheek, “Thank you.”

“Of course, love.” He’s aiming for coquettish but it comes out too sincere to be convincing. That feeling twists at his chest again and it’s only now that he realises what it is.

He actually, genuinely cares for you.

Rattled, he feigns a yawn and smirks, “Well, as much as I adore your company, I really must be off to bed. Beauty sleep, and all that.”

“Right!” You seem to startle yourself with your own volume and clear your throat, chuckling awkwardly, “Right, of course. Goodnight, Astarion.”

He takes a mere second to mull it over before he throws caution to the wind and cradles the side of your neck in his palm, thumb brushing the curve of your jaw as he presses his lips to the apple of your opposite cheek. Before he takes time to actually think over his new found feelings and potentially freak himself out, he’s going to let himself indulge in you just a little while longer.

Pulling back, he brushes the back of his knuckles over the skin he just kissed, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

He can hear your heart thump, thump, thumping as he walks towards his own tent. The feelings he has for you are a new and rather inconvenient development. But if later he finds that he doesn’t particularly mind?

No one has to know just yet.

[cheeriecherrymain]

The flooding of the "domestic/relationship situation prompts that make my heart warm" prompts

(2 of 5)

#12 - saying goodbye over and over because they keep forgetting things and coming back

(This can go either way, as someone with ADHD I do this constantly - but also the reader making Viktor give goodbye kisses every time would be adorable)

LITERALLY ME THO i would forget my own head if it wasn't attached to me

Viktor x Reader

-So this probably goes hand in hand with the last little headcanon scenario, before the two of you figure out how to help his forgetfulness at home.

-Before you start leaving notes out for him, he probably just Tries Really Hard To Remember Things. Which honestly doesn’t help him much, because he’s groggy in the morning, and no amount of coffee is going to wake his mind up: if he forgets something, and there’s no visual prompt for him to tie to it, it’s forgotten.

-It’s led to a lot of funny moments.

-Especially since you rise later than him.

-He always kisses you good morning, and rouses you slightly, but you fall back asleep. He does the same thing again right before he leaves - presses a kiss to your cheek or forehead, and wishes you a good day (sometimes you reply, but most of the time you just mumble incoherently from the edge of sleep).

-His memory gets better as he wakes up, once his morning coffee kicks in and he starts to gain some awareness. Unfortunately, he’s almost always on the way to the lab at that point. Sometimes he’s a few minutes away from your front door, sometimes he’s almost all the way to work, but he always remembers something during that period, and it’s always something important.

-So he ambles back home as fast as he can manage to hunt down whatever it is he’s looking for. Which…he’s still kind of tired, okay? So he doesn’t really remember where he leaves things. 

-But you do.

-And he feels bad for waking you, especially since you look so sweet with your face smashed into your pillow as you quietly snore. But he needs to get to work, so…he gently nudges you. And nudges you some more. And then a little more. Until you finally make a noise of complaint and open an eye.

-The moment you see him leaning over you, you smile and ask, “What have you lost, love?” and then direct him to it when he sheepishly tells you.

-He kisses you goodbye again, and heads out the door. You could go back to sleep after that, but how likely would it be that you would be woken again?

-Very likely, you think, when you notice his notebook still on the windowsill in your room. You grab it from where it sits, and clutch it to your chest as you sleepily make your way around the apartment. From room to room, you pick out little things that he had mentioned the night before - specific pens, some special paper, one of his old workbooks, an angled ruler, his lunch.

-You pack it all into an extra satchel and wander into the front hallway to set it by the door. 

-Right as he comes bustling in, looking frazzled and somewhat impatient.

-You look at him with a knowing smile. As soon as you offer him the bag from your hand, his posture relaxes, and he slips the strap over his shoulder.

- “I believe that’s everything,” you tell him, with a lopsided grin. “If I find anything else, though, I’ll bring it to you at lunch.”

- “What would I do without you?” he asks, tenderly taking your face in his hands.

- “You’d be like an hour late for work every single day,” you joke. But he just rolls his eyes and pulls you into a kiss. It’s sweet, it’s soft, and you have half the mind to make him even more late to his job…but you spare him. At least for now.

-He bids you a good day for the third time, and disappears out the door, shutting it quietly behind himself. You stand there for a couple moments, leaning against the wall while you smile like a charmed schoolgirl.

-Until your gaze zeroes in on the little tray that sits on the shelf by the entrance.

-He forgot his keys.

[erodasfishtacos]

HSLOT PHILLY

Like, comment, share, and come talk if you enjoyed the fic.

I write for free - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.

-

Harry is predictable.

He falls into the same patterns during every tour since he was on the Up All Night with One Direction.

The excitement that comes with the first couple of shows begins to fade as he starts his world wide tour that doesn’t end for nearly eight months.

His constant adrenaline wears off and his exhaustion from not having toured in two years settles deep in his bones.

YN senses it from a mile away, has nearly eleven years experience dealing with her jet-lagged, exhausted, and stubborn husband.

It hits the day of the Philadelphia show, they got in late the night before, and YN always set her alarm for seven thirty in the morning to workout.

Ninety-five percent of the time, Harry got up with her and they either did a jog around the new city or they took advantage of the in-hotel gym.

Four percent of the time, he would whine and tug the comforter over his head, whimpering, “M’too tired, baby. Stay in bed w’me.”

And then the one percent, which was today.

The alarm emits a low, constant beep that rouses YN, in the time she takes to rub her eye and come back into reality - Harry hisses with a sharp edge, “Turn tha’ fuckin’ thing off.”

She bites her tongue at his tone, reaching to turn it off but she can already tell what day they’re going to have.

YN slips out from under the covers and automatically gets a comment from her husband, it another whiney demand, “Cover m’feet, y’too the blanket off them.”

“Yes, your majesty,” YN replies reproachfully, rearranging the blankets before quietly moving around the room to change.

“Stop makin’ so much noise.”

“Turn off tha’ light.”

“S’too early f’this, d’you not care that m’tired?”

She chooses to ignore the remarks, hoping that he can sleep off the attitude.

When YN is about to leave, he grumbles, “Y’need to kiss me goodbye.”

Harry purses his lips for a soft kiss, not moving a muscle, and after that - she leaves to head down to the gym.

YN is required a body guard, definitely when she isn’t with Harry or a group of people, and she decided not to follow those rules today.

She had her TPWK water bottle in hand, a cute workout set on ***, and her AirPods tucked in her ear with some Spice Girls playing.

It’s only about twenty minutes into her exercise, a light jog on the treadmill, that a young girl slips up beside the machine.

YN is kind, stopping the belt to smile for a selfie before the girl scampers off and she resumes her run - music blasting.

However, what YN didn’t know, is that fans had found out early in the morning which hotel they where at and a hoard was rushing towards the small gym.

It’s not even ten minutes later when a swarm of fans in rushing into the work area, lining up around her machine with their phones flashing and recording.

She tries to be nice, “Hey! Uh, I’m just trying to workout. I’m sorry, but no pictures please.”

Then there is loud protest and people shoving each other, begging and pleading for a selfie or for her to sign something - all because she was Harry’s wife.

There is literally no exit to escape to, so she relents and anxiously calls Frank - one of the body guards - to come retrieve her.

-

The whole way back up to her hotel room, Frank is lecturing her about safety and how she could have gotten hurt.

And when he scans the keycard for her hotel room, she feels her stomach drop because Harry is sat against the kitchen counter.

His brown locks are rumpled and going every which way, just in his briefs that are low on his narrow hips, and absolutely irate expression on his face.

“Are y’fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Harry snaps, brow furrowed and jaw clenched - his arms were crossed tightly against his chest.

“Good morning to you, sunshine,” YN mutters, shutting the door and kicking off her tennis shoes to the side.

“Don’t,” Harry replies sourly, “Please explain t’me why I get woken up by Frank to be told y’getting mobbed in the gym? And y’didn’t to call him.”

YN bristles at his tone, giving him a pointed look as she steps further into the room, “It’s not a big deal. I just wasn’t thinking.”

“Y’right about that, y’weren’t thinkin’. It is a big deal, y’could have gotten hurt - shouldn’t have t’babysit m’own wife,” Harry huffs, stomping back over to the bed and sliding back under the covers.

“You better watch your tone-“

They’re interrupted with a knock to their door, Harry throws the covers over his head and leaves YN to open the door.

It’s Jeff, who barges in with a coffee in one hand, “Come on, H. Did you forget? You have soundcheck early today and then you have to meet with FullStop to review the details of that new merchandise contract.”

“No, move it,” The popstar groans, muffled from the heavy blankets over him, and his manager and wife give each other a knowing look.

“We can’t. Get up, we need to leave in fifteen,” Jeff replies casually, unbothered as he sips from his to-go mug.

It has Harry dramatically ripping off the covers and getting out of bed, as he charges off towards the bathroom, he shouts backwards, “Wish someone would have fuckin’ told me! Like m’manager or m’wife!”

“Oh my god, here we go,” YN groans quietly to Jeff, snatching up the few things she needs for the venue as well as Harry’s and shoving them in his duffle.

He comes out a few moments later, dressed in running shorts and a vintage Queen shirt - going to tug on his Nikes without a word to either.

But in true Harry fashion, even when he’s mad, he’s still a gentleman. He slips the duffle off his wife’s shoulder so she doesn’t have to carry it.

“Thank you,” She murmurs but he avoids eye contact, being the first to open the hotel room and trudge towards the awaiting car.

It’s a quiet ride, Harry looks out the window with a deep frown and puffy eyes - eyes heavy from the lack of sleep.

Usually, he’d be curled into YN - snuggling as close as possible and asking for her to pet his hair to soothe him.

Not today. But he does have his hand on her thigh.

There’s already fans at the arena and Harry doesn’t acknowledge them - keeps his head down and walks quickly into the private entrance past the barricades.

When a irritated fan screams, “Asshole! We waited all night here for you!”

YN watches as Harry goes to turn, to say something but she pushes him forward through the door to prevent him from doing something he’d regret when wasn’t in a foul mood.

They manage through the long hallways, filled with bustling tour crew, and everybody there to make the show happen.

Sound check isn’t as fun as it usually is, the band stays low-key when Harry does exactly what he needs to do and nothing more.

And after the merch meeting, Harry has reached his limit apparently.

He was so tired, so fucking moody that he couldn’t deal with anymore human interaction.

YN has to step in when she gets a text from Harry Lambert.

Come get your husband. Sarah’s Kitchen.

She sighs, excusing herself from hanging out with Jeff and Glenne - she can hear him from the hallway and now she’s finally get irritated.

“I asked for that specific brand. It’s literally one of the only things I’ve asked for on this tour.”

YN takes a deep breathe before stepping in, there are crew trying not to stare as Harry complains to Sarah about something unimportant.

“Harry,” She says flatly, “Come on.”

He snatches his water bottle and follows his wife out without another word, trailing behind until they end up in his dressing room.

“You need to stop. You’re being a literal nightmare today,” YN tells him, watching him as he digs in the duffle.

“Where is m’charger? Did y’not pack it?” He ignores her words.

“I must have forgot. Harry, I know you’re tired but you can’t be treating everyone like-“

Harry pushes back the bag, seething for no reason, “I’ll treat people however the fuck I want!”

“You’re acting like a spoiled popstar right now,” YN replies, attempting to stay level-headed and calm with him.

“S’my show! M’tour!”

“Yes and everyone is here to support you and you’re treating them like shit. Including me, I’m your wife - the one person in the world that’s here for you no matter what and you’re being downright mean.”

“Y’so fuckin’ sensitive,” Harry mutters angrily, digging around to try to find a charger in a different bag.

And…that stung a bit.

When he doesn’t get a response, he looks up and notices how her demeanor had changed - it brings him back to reality for a little bit.

“I’m not going to stay here and be talked to like that because you don’t feel good. I’ll leave you alone because you are being insufferable.”

“Bab-“

YN is already out the door, storming back to Sarah’s kitchen to apologize for her husband’s diva behavior and everyone shrugs her off - knowing it’s not her fault.

She is sat down with the band and a few others when her husband saunters in, he doesn’t look at anyone else as he walks up to his wife.

“Baby, can I talk to you?” He mumbles, his warm hand coming to cup her shoulder.

“Harry,” YN says back, they’ve been together for so long that those words are all she needs to say for him to formulate a response.

“Come nap w’me please, need you. I’ll apologize t’you,” Harry says, his palm encompassing and big on her.

“Harry,” She repeats.

The crew looks on in amusement as Harry huffs, he lifts his head and speaks loudly to the room at once, “I apologize for my behavior. I have no excuse for getting upset like I have been today. I hope you guys can forgive me.”

Everyone assures him that they forgive him, most of them have dealt with actual spoiled celebrities and Harry was just having a bad day (which still really wasn’t that bad.)

“Okay, come on, bunny,” YN agrees, satisfied and can’t help but smile a bit when she stands up and Harry automatically intertwines their fingers to hold her hand.

The sofa in his dressing room folds out to be a bed and they still had hours before the show.

Once they’ve locked the doo and settled down on the mattress - they’re both laying on their sides, facing each other.

“M’sorry, darlin’,” Harry whispers, “I haven’t been very nice t’you today. I was just upset about the gym thing and just being so tired.”

YN hums, combing throwing his fluffy curls with her fingers as his hands explore over her hips and belly like always.

“You always get like this every once in a while on tour, like a little spoiled popstar,” YN says softly, no sharpness in her tone, “You also need to be nice to your wife.”

“M’always nice t’my wife,” He mumbles childishly, leaning forward to nip at her chin, “I am sorry, know tha’ when I act like that it embarrasses you.”

“You’re better than acting like that,” YN reminds him, allowing him to tug her into his warm, now bare chest, “I’m never gonna let you turn into some fame monster. You’re gonna stay the kind, funny, compassionate person I met when I was young.”

And when YN doesn’t get a reply, she glances to see Harry’s eyes shut, mouth slightly parted as he breathes rhythmically and his entire face relaxes as he sleeps.

“Still my boy,” YN murmurs lovingly, nuzzling before letting sleep overtake her.

-

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

When Childe’s Younger Sibling is Recovering from Surgery HCs

"TW for surgery mentiom:

Im not sure if brainrots or requests are open, but I recently (today) had gallbladder removal and it hurts like a son of a glitch. Would you perhaps give ideas of a older brother F.L/Childe comforting a reader that had that?

Forgot to mention: IM ALIVE! JUST VERY QUIET HERE RIGHT NOW."

Requested by @jayastronomicnova !

~ * ~ tumblr is being SO rude and refusing to process the actual ask for this post, so unfortunately i have to upload it like this!! i'm sorry for the inconvenience :((

also, i both made this a bit vague in description, so it's a more general surgery headcanon set!! and you're Childe's actual younger sibling because i thought it'd be fun!!! i'm very sorry if that's not what you wanted :(( still, i hope this helps you feel a bit better!!

~ * ~

When Childe's Younger Sibling is Recovering from Surgery HCs

Hurt/Comfort (Mostly Comfort)

Younger Sibling Reader

Older Brother Childe (Foul Legacy)

Warning for surgery mention, pain, nausea, stitches, bandages, medication (pills), allusions to sickness

~ * ~

-Sometimes you really REALLY hate having a physical body -Sure, it’s nice when it WORKS, but if one thing decides to meander out of order suddenly you’re in pain or your entire life is in danger -And you being someone who doesn’t really know when to draw the line between “it’s just a bad day” and “I should see a doctor” can spend a few weeks trying to deal with any problems on your own -Luckily, Snezhnaya is home to some of the finest doctors in Teyvat, and when you finally visit a clinic for a diagnosis they help you set up a date for surgery right away -Because apparently, you need surgery. Fantastic. You can only pray to the Tsaritsa that you and your family can cover the expenses -The operation itself goes fine, thanks to anesthesia, and in the literal blink of an eye you’re groggily looking around and being given pain medication -It’s AFTERWARDS that makes you turn right back around and curse the Archons and Celestia, because holy hell it’s a nightmare -You drag yourself home and up to your room and promptly collapse onto your bed, immediately regretting it because the action jostles a sharp pain in your gut that makes you feel like you’re being stabbed -With a heap of blankets and the pain medicine in reach, you curl up on your bed, wishing you could just fall asleep or disappear entirely -It’s like this that your next days are spent, hunched over on your mattress and wishing for the sweet release of empty dreams yet getting almost none. The times you get up are few and far between, immediately conquered by nausea and pain -You lose all sense of time, the only indications being the rising and setting of the sun and moon and the people who attempt to get you to eat something with varying success -How long you’ve been suffering only comes to light for you when a certain someone pays you a visit -Your big brother Ajax has been long overdue for a visit home- in fact, a few weeks ago before your medical issues started to arise, you’d been excitedly waiting for his arrival. But you’d received only a hastily-written letter, saying something about work taking a bit longer than he expected -You didn’t believe him, but your family did, despite your protests that the letter wasn’t even in Ajax’s handwriting and your subsequent irritation when they didn’t listen to you -To be honest, you’ve almost forgotten about the letter and your older brother due to your surgery and stress driving almost everything from your mind, but when you hear Teucer distantly shout in joy you vaguely wonder if Ajax is home -For the next few hours you drift in and out of sleep, the pain in your body rousing you whenever you’re just about to drift off, like usual -Your painkillers are on the nightstand, but when the sun goes down and the house is mostly quiet you can’t do anything but huddle under your covers, trying to keep yourself warm as the bitter cold seeps in through openings between the windows -The door to your room slowly creaks open, although you don’t register it or the sound of heavy footsteps gingerly making their way to your bed -Only when a clawed hand rests itself gently on your shoulder do you jump in surprise and open your bleary eyes to see who’s there -Your brother, much taller and fluffier than you remember, stares back at you, singular eye unblinking and aglow. He rumbles in concern, lifting your chin with a finger and tilting your head to the side for a closer look at your downtrodden expression -You’re almost curious as to why none of your family put up a fuss or fight when they saw him like this, with horns and talons and shining like the moon, as well as how you somehow recognized him on your own -Almost. But not quite. You’re too tired to be curious -A small pill drops into your hand, and you blink before glancing up. Ajax watches you expectantly, settling on the edge of your bed as you stare at the painkiller, before gulping it down dry -It’s as bitter as it always is, and you stick out your tongue and are met with a deep, growly chuckle from your brother -You’re about to smile back and say how happy you are that he’s home when pain shoots through your abdomen and you wince, doubling over with a groan -Ajax lets out a low whine of worry, the best “are you okay?” expression he can manage in this form, inching closer to you -He reaches out and, with an odd gentleness for the sharp angles of his current self, lifts you into his arms and settles you on his lap -You feel his talons press and trail up and down your back, massaging the cramped muscles from laying in the same position for so long -His other hand rests on your torso, where your stitches and bandages are; unmoving, the hand warms your skin with quiet reassurance -You press your face into the curious ruff of fur around his shoulders, burying your hands into the soft fluff as a stabilization of sorts -Your hands clench into small fists in the fur, clinging to the comfort of your effortlessly strong and fearless big brother -The hand on your torso lifts to your face, carefully brushing and flicking tangled hair out of the way and smoothing it down again. The little game he plays with your soft locks makes you laugh, weakly, and you hear him purr in satisfaction when you do -Ajax moves to massaging your temples with his claws, similar to how he kneads and presses at your back -With a sudden, swift swoop, he wraps his glimmering cape around you for warmth, and to your hazy eyes it almost looks like a pair of wings -Your eyes begin to drift shut as the pain of your stitches fades into the background, replaced by soft, humming croons in a familiar tune -It’s a melody Ajax always sings when he comes home, something about rain and narwhals and ice-colored stars, always certain to put you right to sleep -You snuggle closer, your body small and curled against his armored one, and whisper for him to stay, so you can say a proper hello to him tomorrow -In the dark you feel him nod, and the nod seems to set everything right, here in your brother’s arms

[tommybaholland]

when they’re grumpy but their s/o wants attention [1.5k follower special]

featuring: kuroo, kenma, akaashi, nishinoya, and kageyama

thank you for sharing this fun celebration with me! can’t wait to host more :) enjoy! x 

kuroo

he’s not super temperamental but he can develop a short fuse when he’s stressed or overwhelmed 

you’ll try to get him to take a break but he gets stern really quick 

when he doesn’t give in like usual, you take defeat and leave the room

he immediately feels bad that he snapped at you 

he will hug and kiss you until you accept his ample apology 

“oh. hey, beautiful,” your boyfriend greeted after you wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind.

“what are you doing?” you asked, leaning down to look at the screen. 

“just work again.”

“do you wanna take a break and come cuddle with me?” 

“i wish i could, babe, but i need to get this done.”

“but you’ve been working forever. please, tetsu?” you give him your best pouty, puppy dog eyes that he always falls for. 

“not right now,” he replies shortly. 

you start playing with his hair, something you know he can’t resist. 

“babe, seriously. i’ll come cuddle with you later. now, please, i need to finish this. can you just leave me alone for another half hour?”

“fine.” 

“no, baby. wait--” the door slammed behind you before he could finish his sentence. he swears under his breath, knowing that he hurt your feelings. he quickly exits his work and gets up to go find you. 

you’re sitting on the couch, looking at something on your phone. he saunters over and immediately puts his head in your lap. 

“i’m sorry, kitten. i shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. i’ve been stressed with everything lately but that’s no excuse because you don’t deserve that. i’m sorry.”

you sigh and try to get up but he stops you by wrapping his arms around your hips, pressing his face into your midsection. 

“no, baby, please don’t go. i need you and your cuddles. pleeeeaaasssseee,” he pleads, hugging you tighter. he feels your stomach vibrate against his face and he looks up to see you laughing lightly. 

“what’s so funny?” he chuckles with you. 

“nothing,” you reply, putting a hand in his hair. “you’re just so cute.”

“does this mean you forgive me?” he asks, sitting up. 

“i suppose you can be forgiven.”

“i’ll take it. now, c’mere.” he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into him to accept the many kisses he places on your cheek. 

kenma

he gets frustrated or irritated kinda easily 

mostly when he can’t complete a stage in one of his games 

he can displace his anger onto you when you want to snuggle up to him 

he doesn’t realize what he did until later when he finds you sitting by yourself

he has a simple apology but he makes up for the lack of attention he’s given you 

you always knew where to find kenma. in his room, playing a game. if it’s new, you probably won’t see him for a while as he tries to spend all his free time trying to complete it so visits to his house were frequent. 

even if you had an outing planned, he would try to get in some gameplay beforehand. 

“hey, ken,” you greeted as you entered his room.

he doesn’t respond for a few seconds as he vigorously mashes buttons to defeat the battle he was on. he lets out a frustrated grunt as the ‘lose’ screen taunts him before turning to you. 

“oh, hey.” 

“are you ready to go?” 

“yeah. um, let me just try one more time to beat this,” he negotiates. 

“okay,” you reply as you sit close next to him. he restarts the stage and you watch him play until you yawn and start to lean your head on his shoulder. 

“y/n, i can’t do this while you’re-- oh, god. no!” 

he loses again, causing him to harshly nudge you off his shoulder. 

“ugh, i was so close just then. why do you have to lean on me like that?”

“i’m sorry. i was just kinda tired.”

“well, maybe you should get more sleep so you don’t make me lose again,” he snaps. he mutters under his breath before picking the controller back up and starting again. 

he barely even notices you’re gone until he completes the stage on the next round. he gets up and goes to look for you. he finds you sitting outside his house, presumably waiting for him. he frowns, feeling guilty about what he said to you and continued playing instead of apologizing to you. you could’ve been sitting out here forever. 

“y/n?” he says softly, getting your attention. “i’m sorry. i was mad at the game, not you. i didn’t mean it like that. i’m ready to go now if you want.” 

you’re not totally convinced which prompts him to sit down next to you. he leans his head on your shoulder just like you had to him earlier. he slowly reaches his hand over to yours, interlocking your fingers. 

“i really like when you lean on me. please don’t listen to anything i say when i’m playing games.”

you sigh. “it’s okay. i forgive you. let’s go.” 

he nods, standing up with his hand still in yours. 

“can i have a hug?” he asks cutely, his other hand reaching for your elbow. 

you grin and nod, letting him pull you into him. he hugs you tightly, his fingers tickling your back as they brush across. he pulls away, his hands moving to hold either side of your head to kiss the tip of your nose. 

“okay, let’s go.” 

he holds your hand the whole way there. 

akaashi

he’s pretty calm and not quick to yell like kuroo but he can let stress take over easily

he’ll try to take a nap to relieve it but you come over as a surprise 

he doesn’t take it too well and ‘snaps’ at you 

you end up leaving his house completely and now he feels like he can’t just nap this one away

hugs and cuddles you as he apologizes 

he had finally felt the sweet embrace of his bed after the longest day ever. he just wanted to sleep it all away, easing his aching muscles. what felt like seconds later, he heard your voice. 

“keiji,” you roused, rubbing a hand over his back. “are you sleepy, babe?”

he groaned, shifting over to face away from you. 

“i’m trying to nap, baby. what are you doing here?”

“i just wanted to surprise you. you seemed like you were having a bad day,” you explained.

“yeah. i was. and you just woke me up.”

“oh, i’m sorry. i can rub your back if you want.”

“i want to take a nap. alone.”

“oh. i, um-- okay,” you stuttered, getting up quickly and leaving the room without another word. 

he couldn’t go back to sleep after that. you wanted to make him feel better and he only pushed you away. he quickly got out of bed, hoping he could catch up with you. you weren’t very far from his house as he rushed down the street. 

“y/n? please, wait!” 

you stop in your tracks but don’t turn around. his heart is hammering against his chest as he stops behind you, trying to catch his breath.

“i’m...sorry.”

“why are you apologizing? i’m the one who ruined your nap,” you reminded him. 

he walks around to stand in front of you, pretty eyes looking down at your wilted figure.

“no, you didn’t, baby. you didn’t do anything wrong. i was being a jerk and didn’t need to say that to you. i think i need you more than i need a nap. although, you and a nap would be nice, too.” 

your lips perked up slightly in a smile, making him lean down to get a better look at your face.

“is that a smile i see? no, don’t hide it. c’mere, beautiful.”

he takes you in his arms, hugging you tightly. he rocks you from side to side as he leans his head on top of yours. 

“i would love for you to join me for some cuddles. but i’ll probably fall asleep.”

you agree, smiling at him before he gives you a sweet kiss. he leads you back to his house where you go back into his room. you get all comfy under the covers with him lying on top of you, his head on your chest. 

he kisses your cheek a few times before laying down. “thank you, baby.” 

nishinoya 

he’s usually a very bright and happy-go-lucky boy but he can get irritated 

he’ll get way too amped up about something and then get frustrated when it doesn’t play out how he thinks 

he does get loud when he lets it all out on you as you’re trying to comfort him 

you try to hide your tears and leave him alone but he cannot believe he just yelled at you 

he will literally get on his hands and knees as he apologizes 

you liked to meet up with him after his practice so that you could walk home together. seeing him in the gym, you decided to surprise him by placing your hands on his shoulder and using him to brace yourself as you jumped into the air, which is something he would often do to you and his teammates. 

“hey, sweetie,” he greeted after turning around, looking kinda solemn.

“you ready to go?”

“yeah. let’s go.”

you followed him out but he didn’t take your hand like he would whenever you walked home. he could never hide his feelings though.

“ugh, i missed almost every dig today. every one! i’m so pissed, i’m going to do so many push-ups-- what are you doing!?”

he snatched his hand away from you when you tried to hold it. you winced at his sudden outburst. 

“um, i just wanted to hold your hand.”

“are you even listening to me? i’m really pissed off right now, babe.”

“i- i’m sorry,” you apologized. his heart broke when he heard the break in your voice and seeing your eyes become glossy. what was worse, he was the cause of it. 

you tried to push the tears back into your eyes. “i’ll walk by myself.” 

he grabbed your wrist quickly to stop you. “no, wait.”

you couldn’t hold it in and started sobbing. your hands coming up to cover your face. 

“don’t cry, beautiful,” he consoled, wrapping his arms around you. “that was stupid of me to yell at you. i love when you want to hold my hand. my emotions just got the best of me.”

“it’s, it’s okay,” you sobbed, wiping your eyes. 

“no, it’s not!” he declares. “what do i have to do to make it okay? please tell me, sweetheart.”

“oh, i know--”

“that’s okay, noya. you don’t have to--”

he was literally on his hands and knees in the middle of the road asking for your forgiveness. 

“oh, my sweet, beautiful, gorgeous, smart, strong s/o! will you please forgive me and my idiot self for being a bad boyfriend?”

“noya, you’re not a bad boyfriend. please get off the ground.”

“not until you forgive me!” he wraps his arms around your middle, pressing his face into your tummy. 

“okay, okay. i forgive you,” you laughed. 

“yay!” he jumps up and into your arms, kissing you many times on the head. “you are my favorite person and i can’t stand to see you cry.” 

“now will you hold my hand?”

“of course. can i kiss you too?” 

kageyama

he’s known to be habitually grumpy 

he enjoys your presence the most so if he starts getting short with you, you know something’s bothering him 

yells like noya but you’ve heard it before so you’re able to leave him to cool off 

he’ll eventually realize he was being dumb and didn’t need to yell at you

but he’s not the smoothest at apologizing  

kageyama did not like school. he’d rather play volleyball for the rest of his life. he was good at it, he memorized all the plays, and he could understand it. but when he actually does study and still gets a bad grade, you’ll never hear the end of it.

“ugh, this is so stupid. i thought i studied enough!” he vented as you two sat in his room together. 

“it’s alright, tobi. we’ll just try something different next time, that’s all,” you consoled, patting him on the shoulder 

“pft. easy for you to say,” he grumbled.

“excuse me?”

“you get good grades all the time without any effort. it doesn’t make sense.”

“i actually try very hard and i want to help you--”

“well, i don’t need your help!” he blurts out, shifting away from your touch.

your lips draw into a hard line “that’s fine. i just don’t want you to get discouraged about school, that’s all. you know i care about you,” you reasoned. you could tell he was already on a short fuse and were currently trying to defuse him. 

“i just think that you should--”

“look, you’re not my mom! can you just shut up about this now? i’m done talking about it.”

you nod quietly before packing up your things and leaving. it was obvious he needed some time to himself and you weren’t about to be on the receiving end of his aggressions. 

later that night, there was a knock on your door. it was none other than your grumpy boyfriend who looked rather remorseful. 

“uh, hi.”

“what’s up?”

“i, i know you probably don’t want me here right now but i just wanted to say that i’m sorry.”

you simply nodded, the silence allowing him to keep talking. 

“i was being a dumb jerk. i know you care about me and i really, really care about you. i feel like i don’t appreciate you enough for everything that you do for me.” he looks down, ashamed of how unfulfilling his love seems compared to yours. 

“that’s not true, tobi,” you negate, reaching to him. “i know you care about me. you just have a different way of showing it. like coming here late at night with a-- is that a bento box?” 

“it’s some snacks my mom helped me make. she said this is good brain food. i was hoping you could help me with some homework.  also,” he looks away from you once more.

“i can’t go to the tournament if i don’t pass japanese lit. could you please help me?”

you look him up and down for a few moments before grinning. “of course i can.”

you let him into the house. you feel a tugging on your shirt and turn around to see him standing there awkwardly. 

“yes?”

“would you-- can you hug me, please?”

you don’t respond except with a smile and simply wrap your arms around his waist. he hugs you tightly, burying his face in your neck. 

“thank you. love you so much.” 

he has lots to learn, but he’ll get there and one day, it’ll be as easy as volleyball. 

the event is over but more coming soon! send a request in the meantime..

[mochibunni]

Their Fat, Lazy Pig

cw: nsfw, eructophilia, eproctophilia, immobility, slob, piss (last few sentences)

yep this is the bts ot7 ver of the thing i did a few days ago lol it’s only a bit different at the smut part otherwise it’s basically the same but anyway just wanted to get it out since it was the original ✌️

• • •

Jimin always has food nearby, and has done away with manners inside the house. The boys absolutely love hearing the results of his gluttony, love hearing him shamelessly belch and fart to make room to be able to continue eating, love hearing his stuffed stomach groan in distress at the sheer quantity he manages to cram inside it. When he sits down his ample gut takes up his entire lap, sinking between his doughy thighs to rest heavily on the seat underneath. The size of his stomach forces him back in his seat, rounding out into a huge, distended dome, the top of it so taut full of food all the time that it pushes his swollen breasts sideways. He’s too obese to sit and eat at tables anymore, so instead he rests bowls and platters on the jutting shelf of his gut. He doesn’t mind. He says it’s better that he doesn’t have to reach so far, his arms don’t get tired as quickly.

On the lessening occasions that he walks, his corpulent belly sways and bounces with every waddling step he takes, slapping rhythmically against his blubbery thighs. The others can’t resist the temptation the sight rouses, groping and jiggling it in their arms, because that’s how much of it there is; armfuls of fat, undulating lard that ripples endlessly when you smack it, rolls atop rolls of soft, hefty body. Their humungous piggy pants and complains until they let him sit down again, groaning tiredly and having to support himself with a hand as he lowers himself. The force of his weight impacting on the seat below him causes his whole body to wobble alarmingly like a heap of quivering jelly.

As of recently, Jimin has stopped being able to see over his gut after they’ve sat him down and stuffed him to his limit. It’s a milestone they’re all very pleased about him reaching. To celebrate, they all arrange to come together and fawn on him all day, because it’s simply better when his favourite people are pushing endless amounts of food into his mouth from every angle, lovingly rubbing thick belches out of his gut, slapping his expanded belly and watching it tremble and surge outwards as his clothes give out. It’s what he deserves, all the calories and praise he could wish for.

Watching Jimin struggle to get up from sitting down is probably one of their favourite pastimes, the way he swings his flabby arms to gain momentum, sending his bingo wings swinging madly is a sight to behold. Well, maybe it’s their favourite pastime after seeing him try to get up in the morning. It’s remarkable, how long it takes him to roll his fat ass out of bed, his gelatinous stomach pooling out in front of him when he’s lying on his side, sloshing and rippling like a big water balloon. Of course, Jimin can’t help but rip long, sloppy farts as he tries to stand, just as he does when doing anything even slightly strenuous. At first, he was embarrassed by his uncontrollable flatulence. Now, he pats his stomach with a pleased smile and proudly announces that he feels hungry again.

For a while now, Jimin’s found it hard to lie on his back in bed, his immense weight suffocating him. But sometimes, it’s all he can do after a particularly hedonistic day of gorging himself far past the point of excess. When he does, he’s nothing more than a mountain of fat. Helplessly splayed out and unable to move, completely overfed and incoherent. His rotund gut rises up high, sloping roundly even with gravity working against it. It’s on days like these when he shamelessly eats too much that he finds himself profusely aroused by his own lack of control. But there’s no way he could ever hope to reach around his absurd belly to his dick should he want to relieve himself. Even if he could, his body is encased in so much blubber that even lying flat his gut still spills between his thighs and over his sizeable hips, completely obstructing his crotch.

So, after helping to get Jimin comfortable, the boys will sit on the bed around him let him struggle and whine for help, coo teasingly as his pudgy cheeks turn red and he grunts with effort, trying to no avail to rock his mountainous stomach from side to side just to be able to reach himself. When he gives up, sweating and out of breath, they finally give him a hand. His lower belly is plump and heavy, and pushing it out the way is no easy feat. When Jungkook and Taehyung manage, Jimin’s poor, useless cock underneath is already so hard it’s leaking precum, pink and throbbing from being rubbed all day between his thick thigh rolls. Even fully erect, only the the tip of his weeping cock is peaking out cutely from his pillowy fat pad. Namjoon teases him, fucking his long fingers Jimin’s sensitive fat pad alongside his cock, admiring how soft and pliant he is. They take turns taunting him for his obscene overindulgence, praising him for being such a fat, insatiable glutton. Yoongi kisses him breathlessly as he squeezes the thick rolls on his sides, Hoseok meanly squeezing his plentiful chest. He loves all of it, they know he does. Most of all, he loves when Seokjin grabs a handful of his full belly and shakes it, sending his lard rolling decadently and disturbing the trapped gas inside, forcing deep, gurgling burps out of him. Namjoon can’t see Jimin’s face over the crest of his stomach, but he can tell Jimin’s close by the way he gasps exhaustedly, gut quaking and heaving with every strained breath and moan he puffs out. He doesn’t last long with all of their enticement, and they stare in awe at the way every inch of his obese body wobbles when he comes with a gasp, a cascade of jiggling adipose that doesn’t stop even after he’s spent and lax. Overcome by exhaustion and fullness, he lets them clean him up as he catches his breath. He’s normally asleep by the time they finish, tired from doing nothing but eating all day.

Obviously, there are times when the boys all leave the house at once for one reason or the other. Jimin doesn’t love it because he’s started having a hard time getting around without help. However, they leave him with plenty of food to keep him satiated, and that silences any complaints he has. On those days, it’s easy for him to get so lost in the food on his own that he eats himself into a complete stupor in bed, on the couch or on the kitchen floor in front of the fridge. Take today, for example, Jimin’s boyfriends watch him on the house cameras they’d all agreed to install, in the case that they were out and he got into any trouble due to his increasingly limited mobility. They can see that he’s planted himself on the reinforced bench made just for him in the kitchen, and it doesn’t look like he’ll be moving. They’re all easily enraptured at the sight of their greedy feedee on their phones, unable to look away as they watch him eat so much that he physically can’t move, totally beached and burping piggishly, groaning in pleasure as he caresses his straining stomach and appreciates his immense size. While he gorges, he attempts to fuck his own underbelly and fat pad, weakly pressing down on his overfilled gut and twitching his hips until he climaxes, the strain of his orgasm forcing gas noisily out from both ends. Jimin tries to get up from where he’s slumped, struggling helplessly to lift his bloated body and get himself to the bathroom to relieve himself after drinking litres and litres of fizzy drinks throughout the day. But however hard he tries he’s just too fat, too heavy to support his own weight, pinned down by his ballooned belly. In the end, Jimin gives up and starts to squirm, wincing and trying to hold it in for as long as he can. But in the haze of a food coma and post orgasm drowsiness, he lets go and pisses himself where he’s sitting, hot liquid pouring down his legs and splattering on the floor. With a desperate moan he hefts his overflowing gut upwards, attempting to angle his fat-encased dick just to piss over himself. A literal pig, stuffed stupid and covered in his own mess, completely glutted out and too fat to move an inch.

[tyonfs]

under the rain.

❝ it’s hard to believe that you want me too. ❞

PAIRING ▸ boyfriend!jaemin x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, some fluff, established relationship

WARNINGS ▸ dirty talk, praise, car sex, orgasm denial, overstimulation, exhibitionism, some aftercare

WORD COUNT ▸ 1912 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this was an impulse-write i started a few days ago but i basically wrote 75% of it after the nct end of the year party video came out. jaemin is literally sososo pretty and omg seeing the new members and xiaohenyang with the rest of nct was everything ♡ i hope you guys enjoy this !! also psa this is reposted bc tumblr tags hate me

YOU DIDN’T EXPECT TO GET CAUGHT IN THE RAIN WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND, NA JAEMIN.

The two of you were always too busy to see each other during the week. From college classes to football practice, Jaemin could barely squeeze in time for you. Rare moments like today, however, were when you could spend some quality alone time with him, away from friends and college lectures. Jaemin dedicated the entire day to you and only you, only for it to be ruined by the rainfall as you were walking back to Jaemin’s car from the movie theater.

You were drenched by the time you and Jaemin made it to the parking structure where his car was parked. Although the day had been perfect, from Jaemin taking you to your favorite coffee shop and then walking around with you downtown, you couldn’t help but feel somewhat gloomy because of the rain. You weren’t aware that you were visibly showing your exasperation until Jaemin wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you into his warmth.

“I’m sorry,” Jaemin murmured into your neck, “I didn’t know it was going to rain.”

You shivered a bit at his touch and put your hands over his. “It’s okay. I just wish we could be together for a little longer.”

You knew he was disappointed, too. Jaemin always complained about not having the chance to see you whenever he could, so simple things such as weekend dates were precious to him. On top of that, he absolutely hated not seeing you happy. Na Jaemin didn’t exactly have all the time in the world, but he did everything in his power to not let things end on a sour note.

The rain pattered outside of the empty parking structure, so Jaemin pulled you closer and opened the door to the backseat. You weren’t very sure where this was going to go but, regardless, you let him slide into the seat and pull you onto his lap, closing the door as soon as you were inside.

“Jaemin?” you asked, voice dropping to a whisper.

“Shh.” Jaemin silenced you and slid his long fingers over your clothed clit, rousing a surprised whimper from you. He smirked at your immediate reaction and brought his lips to your ear. “You like that?”

“Fuck,” you breathed out and looked around your surroundings, a sudden spike of anxiety rising at the thought of being seen. Yet, somehow, it got you even more excited. “What if someone sees us?”

“Then let them enjoy the show.”

Jaemin was always so shameless when it came to things like this. When you met up before classes once, he tugged you into a bathroom and took you in one of the stalls; on another occasion, you visited him during football practice and he snuck away to make out with you behind the bleachers. It wasn’t like you were opposed considering you were often just as sexually frustrated as he was.

Now, you both needed this. After barely seeing your boyfriend all week, you had kept everything pent-up, and you knew he felt the same way. Jaemin ran his free hand up and down your body, feeling what he had longed for.

“You’re so gorgeous, Y/N,” Jaemin whispered, blowing air against your ear. “Absolutely fucking beautiful.”

He slipped his hand past your waistband, tracing his fingers along the v-line of your pelvis. You shivered at the feeling of his fingers grazing your skin, traveling down to rub your clit in slow, teasing circles. You rutted back against him, craving more friction, more touch. This only encouraged Jaemin to speed up his pace, fingers rolling around your tiny ball of nerves in a way that made you go crazy.

“Jaemin, we shouldn’t—ah!”

“What was that?” he cooed sickeningly, knowing the effect he had on you.

But this time, you weren’t going to comply. No matter how horny you were, you knew it wasn’t a great idea to go at it in a parking lot. You were ready to—

Jaemin slid two fingers along your soaking slit. “Do you have something to say, Y/N?”

—completely give in.

“P-please,” you begged in a whimper, “more.”

“Such a good girl.” Jaemin slipped a finger inside of you, his free hand sliding up your shirt to feel you up. He slid his finger in and out of you, getting you more wet until he asked, “Want another one?”

You nodded quickly, breath hitching as Jaemin slid another finger in. Your walls tightened around his fingers but Jaemin didn’t slow down his pace. He pumped even faster, rousing a moan from you when his long fingers hit a certain spot that made your head go fuzzy. You felt a tingling sensation all over your body, warmth knotting in your stomach. You just wanted Jaemin to finish you off, but you knew that wasn’t his style.

You let out a moan that sounded about an octave higher, and Jaemin took it as his cue to pull his fingers out. You immediately whined, rolling your hips back against his. Your boyfriend tutted at your impatience and lifted his fingers to your lips.

“Suck,” he ordered, wanting you to taste yourself. You obeyed and held his wrist to suck on his fingers, and Jaemin bit back a groan. “Such a pretty mouth.”

He pulled his fingers away from your mouth once he was satisfied and tugged at your hips. You swiveled around so that you were straddling his lap, sitting on top of Jaemin’s painful erection. He reached up to move your hair out of your face, just admiring your features for a moment. It seemed as if he was frozen in time then, as if the world was just you and him in his car.

“It’s hard to believe,” he murmured, tracing his finger along your collarbone, “that you want me too.”

“Of course I do,” you whispered back, pouting at his statement. You wished he didn’t have to feel so insecure, but you understood that it was hard when you couldn’t see him all the time. “I love you.”

Jaemin smiled at your words, mumbling an “I love you too” as he grabbed the back of your neck to pull you down for a kiss. You kissed him back fervently, allowing him access to every part of you, letting his tongue roam your mouth and his hands roam your body. When you let out a gasp at the feeling of Jaemin’s hands gripping your ass, he seized the opportunity to kiss down to your neck.

“Jaemin, please,” you whined. “I need you.”

He pulled away for a moment, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before unbuttoning his pants for you. You moved off of him to take off your pants, too, and when you came back to him, you were dying for his touch again.

You both were silent for a moment, just heavy breathing and chests rising and falling before he said, “Ride me.”

You hesitated because you had expected him to take charge tonight. Now, you were feeling a bit nervous, but you stepped up to the challenge. Nodding, you tugged down his boxers to let his cock spring out. He was so fucking hard and you were so wet and ready to take him.

“Easy,” he murmured, guiding your hips down on him. A gasp escaped your lips as he entered you, adjusting your position several times before you could take him in fully. “No matter how many times I fuck you, you’re always so tight and perfect for me.”

Jaemin groaned as your walls clenched and unclenched around him. Jaemin tucked his head into your shoulder, holding the small of your back as you moved your hips up and down on him. Your boyfriend greedily groped every possible place he could pleasure you, and when he got to pinching your nipples, you felt like your head was spinning.

You thought Jaemin was getting unsatisfied by your careful movements because he held your hips with a bruising grip and pulled you down. You moaned, curling your fingers into his hair as you bounced on his cock. Jaemin groaned into the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up to whisper words of praise into your ear.

He was rough sometimes, yes, but Jaemin loved to love, and he showed it during sex. Despite how rough he liked to get, it was the simple gestures that really showed how gentle he could be. He would kiss every inch of your skin that if he thought he held you too hard, stroke your hair while he was pounding into you, and hold you close to him because more than the sex, he just wanted you in his arms.

“Might cum—gonna cum, gonna cum,” you moaned out, nails digging into his shoulders as Jaemin fucked up into you.

He held your hips as he angled his hips again to hit that one spot that left you in the clouds. Your arm shot out to the side, attempting to grab anything for leverage, which was when you noticed how the windows started fogging up. Jaemin pressed his thumb against your clit, sending waves of pleasure that dared to make you spill over.

“Hold it for me, pretty girl,” Jaemin ordered in a gentle voice, rubbing your clit in circles as he grinded his hips up into you. “Don’t cum all over my cock just yet. I wanna do it with you.”

You closed your eyes shut, biting your lip and nodding. You let out a loud whimper each time Jaemin thrusted up into you, complete with you bouncing up and down on his cock. Jaemin’s voice was raspy, growling filthy words into your ear that made butterflies flutter in your stomach, edging you even more.

By the time you had tears streaming down your cheeks, Jaemin decided he had overstimulated you enough. He pressed down on your clit a touch harder as he circled the little ball of nerves. Paired with his intense thrusts, you were losing your hold over yourself.

Jaemin looked up at you, desperation over his face. “Go ahead, Y/N. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

You didn’t waste any time and unraveled right in front of him, crumbling into his hold right away. Jaemin groaned, filling you up to your brim, and relief washed over you when you remembered you were on the pill. But Jaemin continued fucking you through your highs, hips stuttering to a stop when you both had grounded yourselves again.

The only sounds in the car were the distant pattering of raindrops and the heavy panting from you and Jaemin. You bit your lip as you got off of him, his cum dripping down your thighs. You frowned slightly at the mess because you knew he had nothing to clean it off with.

Jaemin looked solemn for a moment when you got off his lap. You both knew that once you two got back to your college campus, this dream would end and you would get back to the cold reality of schoolwork and club activities.

He held your hand, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin. “Will you stay the night?” he asked gently. “I want cuddles.”

You smiled at his words. “Of course.”

It was true that you and Jaemin rarely had time to see each other recently, but right now, under the pouring rain, it didn’t matter because you had each other.

[stanknotstark]

Serinakakers As Proof

Serinakakers are actually called Norwegian butter cookies in english and I don’t think i’ve ever had one but they look good to me lol i didn’t feel like making a whole new otherworldly dessert sorry I’m lazy sometimes 😂

Summary: You’re dating Loki but keeping it a secret as per Loki’s request. The team starts to question if you’re lying about your ‘lover’ and Loki has to save you because Thor has really bad timing.

It all started two weeks into dating Loki. Loki was a little unsure what the team’s reaction to you two dating would be so he told you to keep it a secret for now. You respected his wishes but that didn’t stop you from flaunting about how you had the best ‘lover’ (Loki refused to be called boyfriend) in the world. 

Two weeks in Valentines came up and Loki had a vase of beautiful flowers sent to you with a little card that said, “For the fairest of them all - your love” In reference to Snow White, which you had both watched very recently. 

You had taken them around the whole tower, telling people it had come from your lover when they asked. 

“At least give us his name, I promise to not, like, totally have a background check on him!” Tony says with a pout. 

You laugh and shake your head. “No can do Tin Man. He doesn’t want you all to know who he is just yet.”

“See, that makes me a little skittish, if he doesn’t want us to know he has something to hide.” 

“I agree with him and think he should remain nameless.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” Tony points out.

You shrug at Tony and do the motions for zipping your lips closed and throwing out the key. 

Loki ends up picking a random day, a month later, to send you a big basket of chocolate, your favorite hard candies, and really small plushies of all the Avengers (It’s totally not his way of giving you sweets because you’re on your period). Your favorite plushy isn’t one of the Avengers, it’s a small plushy of Loki. Because you’re given the basket in front of everyone you make sure not to freak out over the Loki plushy but you keep stealing glances at the god who sits apart from everyone else, reading. 

“He even got you Loki?” Steve asks bewildered. 

“Like it or not, Loki is part of the group. Seems he has built a group of fans now.” You say, stealing a glance at Loki who smirks at his book. You know he’s pleased you’ve defended his honor. 

“You do realize I’m right here, do you not?” Loki says, still not looking up from his book. 

Steve at least has the decency to look ashamed and his cheeks flare up. 

“There’s not a card with a name!” Tony says making everyone look at the basket again.

“Of course not, you dumbass.” You say, slapping the back of Tony’s head, Tony proceeds to throw his hands and slap away at your receding hand. Thor and Bruce chuckle with you at his childish antics. 

“Can you at least give us a letter in his name?” Clint asks from your side. 

You sigh and look to the ceiling in thought. 

“K.”

“Kevin!” Clint immediately yells. “Wait, we don’t know a Kevin.” 

“Who said you know who it is?” You ask as you gather your basket to put in your room. 

Clint completely disregards what you said and yells, “Kate!”

Natasha hits Clint’s arm, “She’s straight, stupid.”

Tony then pipes in as you walk away rolling your eyes, “Kyle! Kaden! Kayden but with a y!” 

“His name doesn’t start with a k guys!” You yell as the elevator closes, exasperated. 

Next, a week and a half has passed when they start questioning your relationship. Thor figures it out but only because he grew up with the thing you’re gifted. 

You had been the last one to enter the kitchen for dinner and right as you entered Thor came up to you with puppy dog eyes and was holding a tin of sweets. You take a long look at the delicacies, they’re some type of cookies, in a swirl pattern, and decorated with powdered sugar. Thor answers your questions right after you think that.

“They’re butter cookies, can I please have one, your boyfriend sent them.” Thor says making sure to enunciate the word boyfriend. Your eyes snap to Thor’s and the god smiles down at you. On one hand it looks innocent but you see past his facade.

He knows. 

You clear your throat and grab the tin from him, making sure to pull one of the cookies out and give it to him. 

“Since you’re nice, sure, big guy.” You say giving Thor a look that said ‘Say nothing’. Thor bounces from foot to foot, shoving his cookie in the face of the other Avengers.

“She likes me!” Thor roars then demolishes the cookie in a single bite. 

You laugh, glance at Loki from under your lashes as you look at the cookies and pick one out to try.

When the cookie touches your tongue you can’t help closing your eyes and moaning. You chew and the cookie just melts in your mouth. You moan as your take another bite and you think you could practically orgasm this cookie is so damn good but remember the entire team is there. 

When you finish the cookie you open you eyes and look at everyone. Tony is looking at you like he wants to eat you, Natasha is eating her food like she doesn’t fucking care, Steve is blushing so hard you think his head might explode. Clint is shocked, and Bruce is looking at you with a raised brow. The last person you look at is Loki who sits there staring at you with flushed cheeks and a glint in his eye that says he’s going to tear those noises from your lips again, this time without the cookies.

You cough and look at Thor who is smiling like he is satisfied. You understand why he wanted one so bad now. 

“I’m sorry but what the fuck just happened.” Tony says shaking his head. 

You laugh. “I had an orgasm while eating a cookie, get with the program.”

“Honestly, if his cookies are that good you need to marry the man, just saying.” Tony waves his had at you then goes on to start eating his dinner.

You go to eat another cookie but Loki finally says something. 

“No dessert before dinner, put the cookies down.” 

“Or what?” You challenge the god.

Loki raises a brow at you and levels you with a glare.

“Put them down.”

You suck on your gums and squint at the god as you put the cookies on the table.

“You’re lucky I like you.”

“Ok, first of all, you like everyone so I don’t see the point in saying that. Second, how have you told Loki you like him before me? We all know I’m the favorite around here.” Tony scoffs while aggressively stabbing a broccoli floret. 

You take your seat next to Loki and that’s when it’s asked.

“Is your boyfriend even real? Or are you gifting yourself all these things so you’ll make one of us jealous?” Clint asks in a normal voice, he really doesn’t mean it to be mean.

You stop smiling at Tony and frown at Clint.

“He’s real.” You say a little hurt. 

“I mean it just seems a little fishy.”

You pout at Clint.

“I could look into her purchases and see if she bought it herself.” Tony rouses from the other side of the table. He’t totally joking but Steve doesn’t take it that way.

“Tony! That’s private, you can’t just do that!” Steve tries protecting you. 

You start to get a little angry.

“He’s real. If you don’t think he’s real then that’s on you. I know he is and that’s all that matters.” You reason, more for yourself than anything else. 

Under the table you feel Loki’s hand squeeze at your thigh. 

“Just give us something to let us know he’s real.” Tony pushes. 

You slam your hands on the table and stand up so fast the chair you were in topples over. 

“Stop!” Loki yells, in a quick move he stands and puts an arm in front of you, not to protect Tony but to stop you before you did something you regret.

The room is silent save for your rough breathing. 

“It’s me.” Loki harshly says, glaring at Tony and Clint.

“You don’t have to cover for her, it’s embarrassing but-”

“Shut up!” You scream at Clint.

“I’m not trying to cover for her. I’ve been dating her for the past month and a half. I did not want her to tell you because I wasn’t sure how all of you would react.” Loki gets out then turns and brings you to him so he may kiss you. 

Loki makes it a show for the team, relaxes as you lean into him, your hands wrapping around his neck and tugging at the nape of his neck. He pulls away before you can lose yourself in his kiss and looks at the team with a raised eyebrow as if asking ‘Is that enough for you?’.

Finally Thor peeps in between a big bite of his food. “Ay, Loki is telling the truth, those are Serinakakers, an Asgardian delicacy my mother used to make us.” 

Loki rolls his eyes at his brother’s really bad timing and then looks back down at you, you’re still wrapped around him, now with a tiny smile on your lips as you look at him.

“Ok, darling?” Loki asks anyways.

“I’ll be happy if you let me take those cookies and eat those for dinner in my bedroom.” 

Loki brings a hand up and trails a finger from the back of your jaw to your chin, going up to touch your bottom lip. “Only if you promise to make those sweet sounds every bite you take.” Loki whispers.

“Ok this is seriously gross, I’m literally gonna throw up.” Tony says with a fake gag.

You laugh and pull from Loki who glares at Tony. You point at Tony, then at Clint. “Don’t think you two are off the hook, I’m still royally pissed, you’re just lucky when I’m around Loki I can’t stay mad.”

You make your way around the table, Loki following, dinner forgotten, and pick up your cookies. Then, you head towards your room. 

Halfway to the elevator Loki grabs your hand and doesn’t let go until you’re both laying on your bed enjoying your cookies. Talking about everything and nothing. 

[katsukikitten]

Part 10 of Irritated. Y'all thank Jo for this being updated lol.

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️ This is an 18+ Pro Hero AU, mentions of violence and death. Enjoy

The pungent smell of wet Earth and nose burning chemicals did not pair well with the harsh scent of rotting fruit. Sickeningly sweet as it rouses you, mind hazed as your eyelids refuse to open or even flutter. Weighted by lead and an endless sleep that tries to pull you under again. For once you submit.

More time passes, although you aren’t even sure you understand the concept any longer as that same smell stirs you again, a bang from an adjacent room pushes your eyes to flutter. Flashes of light against the start darkness before your eyes adjust to the low light of the room that seeps in from a few small rectangular windows. The panes are caked with dust while bricks are pressed into the seedy Earth, giving the room a natural coolness, there is only one set of stairs that lead up towards a door outlined in light. The sound of running water makes your throat constrict and your mouth dry, as if you swallowed cotton whole. Making you wonder just how long you had been pulled undertow. It takes your throbbing head a moment to catch up with your senses as a chill settles over your bare skin in goose flesh.

And then it all comes flooding back, the awful taste of his salty skin in your mouth, the fear gripping at your muscles as you finally realize that you are not in the safety of your apartment but somewhere forgein. Thrashing to get to your feet only to hit hard onto the icy concrete, wrists and ankles bound by white cuffs, a small whine escapes your raw throat. Your heart hammers in your chest before you feel a sharp prick in both of your wrists. A warm substance floods your system as your eyelids become heavy, mind trudging through abduction procedures before settling on blissful numb. A blurry figure comes from the only other door in the room that isn’t atop the staircase. You don’t need to fully focus on his face to know exactly what color his eyes are as they burn into your retinas before sleep hushes your frayed nerves. You dream of all consuming green that slowly fades to black.

Bakugou finds himself standing in the kitchen of his apartment, your spare key stares up at him from your paperwork. A sweating glass with melting ice and the reminisce of an amber liquid is his only company. He leers down at the address, wondering why the hell you were on such a seedy side of town, then he thinks of you shaking on the couch back at the hotel during the convention. His stomach churns, your final words and blow cause him to suck his teeth.

“Not my fucking problem.” He huffs to himself, refilling the glass before killing the light in the kitchen to settle on the couch. His grip is too tight on the crystal glass in his explosive palm, the glass threatens to shatter while an infomercial plays in the background. His mind is anywhere but the TV while indestructible pans are advertised across the large screen. Aggressively swirling the amber liquid as his thoughts become more and more loud. He swallows the whisky whole and with it the thought of you. Letting it all burn as it runs down his throat and heats his chest, a warm feeling flooding his veins as he sinks lower into the couch. Flipping channels as he forgets you.

Your key taped to your personal records, that Bakugou stole, do not sit on his fine counter much longer, soon it is swiped and shoved into a pocket. He slams the crystal glass on the counter as he reaches for his own apartment keys and his cellphone. Bakgou slams his apartment door, locking the deadbolt before he rushes down the stairs to catch the last train to you hellish part of the city.

The hour train ride sobers Bakugou and only sets him into further agitation. Glaring at anyone who thinks to look at him more than once, even going as far as baring his teeth. Before glaring at his own reflection, who sneers right back. His black tee is tight and a bit damp despite the cool air, the brim of his backwards cap pulls the hair away from his forehead as his faded sides breathe in the chill of the train. The hat, an excuse to hold in his hair, his hero gloves heating his hands as his fingers twitch, he hopes your apartment is hardwood throughout since he didn't have plastic bags to put his feet in while he looked for something. Anything. He was doing the best with what he had.

But the more he looks at himself the more he realizes he never really was doing his best. At least not when it came to you.

The address to your apartment complex is a few blocks away from the train station, his jaw clenched as he reaches the low lit building. Screaming comes from somewhere far off, his ears perk out of habit, but he was supposed to be off duty right now. Plus that wasn’t his current focus, not to mention should he help it would be suspicious as fuck as to why he was so far way from home tonight. He bounds up the stairs in the dank stairwell two at a time, huffing through his nose as he reaches the top floor. The carpet is worn threadbare and reeks of vomit and water damage. Silence envelopes the top floor compared to the yelling and crashing items on his way up. Slowly it dawns on him that you’re most likely renting out the entire fucking floor. He sucks his teeth, leaning in close to the door of the first apartment on the floor. Nothing comes from the other side of the thin cheap door, musty air flows from between the cracks as if the room had been closed for quite some time. It confirms what he’s been thinking. He finds your apartment door with ease, several bolts and locks lined up perfectly straight. He looks down at the one key and thinks about what happened in the short few years you started at the agency that you would need five, no six additional deadbolts on your door. He half wishes you hadn't made it so obvious as to which door was yours, thoughts creep into the forefront of his mind as he imagines someone else standing in his spot now. He thinks he will need a locksmith, but that would call attention to himself, he could attempt to pick them but he never really had time to practice the shady skill. Just as he is about to turn to brute force as the answer he notices that your door doesn't seem fully shut. He thinks of all the times that you bitched while on patrol about your damn door and how you had to literally slam it shut for it to actually lock. Gritting his teeth he gently pushes the door open with his gloved hand letting it swing open with an eerie creak.

Already things are out of place. Your suitcase stands alone, untouched and obviously unpacked from the clothes peeking out from beneath the zipper, by the front door. Your lanyard for your keys is on the floor instead of the table that is in the foyer and the converse you were wearing the day that you quit are missing. Faintly something gleems in the grainy light from the hallway from beneath the table in the foyer. Bakugou reaches for it tentatively, teeth gritting as he realizes what the glass rectangle is.

Your phone.

Specifically, your dead phone.

His hand hover over the unresponsive screen before deciding to leave it, this would be evidence they would need later but for now he knew he had to do something. Kamisama takes pity on the poor bastard and throws him a bone in the shape of a scrunchie. Your black scrunchie that seems to have been ripped from your arm. As he reaches for it he notices the faint residue smeared on the hardwood. His mind dredges up weeks ago of the guy trying to hide his quirk. Of the carpet by the hotel door in the hall just a touch darker.

He should have fucking killed him, he should not have listened to you. He snatches the scrunchie, heading towards your kitchen to look for a bag, tupperware, anything to trap the smell of you and possibly your assailant. He finds a plastic sandwich bag, shoving the broken hair tie into the baggie before sealing it shut. He heads for your door thinking better of slamming it shut in case he needs to return without the calvary. Pulling his phone from his pocket he dials an old number from memory, the other line picks up.

"Oi, it's time I cashed in on that favor you owe me."

After the short conversation and the long hour and a half in the cold a four door sudan pulls up to the train station by your house. Bakugou eagerly yanks open passenger side door, slamming it shut as he cranks of the heat in the car, giving the driver no room for questions let alone a greeting.

"Oi, I need you to find the owner of this." He flashes the scrunchie as the driver gives him a look, "Inu, you're hound's son aren't you? It's not impossible."

"It might as well be dude. What is this?" Inu snatches the bag from hot fingers, "Do you even know when the last time the owner wore this. And what exactly are we doing? Is this even fucking official?"

Bakugou narrows his eyes, mouth set in a harsh snarl as he leans in close to the driver's seat while Inu leans back.

"I dunno was your shit I helped you with official? Was it ethical for us to take out a mob boss for your now ex wife?"

Inu looks away into the rear view mirror, eyes boring holes into the glass and the blankets in the back seat. Bakugou doesn't notice, he takes it as admission before leaning away into the passenger seat.

"Now get to sniffing." Inu grits his teeth at the hot head's comments before sighing out. Opening the bag just a little to take a whiff. The smell was faint, indicating a large gap from the time it was last worn to now. Not to mention there was an odd smell, so unbelievably faint in the fabric that had Inu not already known what you smelt like he would have missed it. Just barely he could make out past the notes of your shampoo a salty harsh smell, almost like a preservative. Had it been any stronger it would have burned his nostrils. Sweat and...was that formaldehyde?

His stomach churns, slowly closing the baggie before cracking his window, catching the wind just right. He follows his nose, head halfway out the window as the car carries the men late into the night, all the way to the fringes of a suburb that was partly in the country. Inu parks the car on the wide street of the little neighborhood built to mimic an American suburb in the nineties. Homes of various sizes spread out and yet not too far from one another.

"This is it." Inu announces, throwing the car in park as it sits nestled between a beat to hell pick up truck and a dented sudan.

"You're sure?" Bakugou asks as he takes in the old home, it's upkeep is minimal at best, landscaping border line over grown as he can barely make out the small rectangular windows at the base of the house beneath the old dim street lamp.

"This is where both smells get stronger."

"Both?" A tic wounds tighter in Bakugou's jaw while a tremor runs through his arms. Inu nods as Bakugou reaches for the knob.

"Woah, woah!" Inu's large hand clamps down onto a broad shoulder, "Hold up man, if she really is involved then this is nothing like the sting we did bro. We need to call someone."

"Like fucking who?"

"I dunno Director Yami?"

"Yea so he can dismiss this again? Fuck that and fuck you. I'm going." He shoves Inu away reaching for the door again before the blankets in the back seat come to life. A mop of emerald curls with concern plastered across the giant's face appears to Bakugou's horror.

"Kaachan...you can't. We need to do this right, for her." And with that Bakugou snaps, lunging for his old friend, enemy. Climbing past the center console with his hands outstretched before they wrap around a thick column squeezing with all of his might. Deku doesn't do much to stop him, somehow knowing deep down that it isn't really him that the red eyed man wants to kill. He wraps broad hands around thick forearms giving them a gentle squeeze, he could snap them with One for All if he wanted. Instead Inu barks out a breathy "What the fuck?" as he wraps his arms around Bakugou's torso pulling him back into the passenger's seat. In the tussle either Bakugou or Inu hit the horn, causing Inu to panic as a light comes to life in the once darkened house. He forcefully shoves Bakugou into the front seat as he peels into the street, thankfully without burning rubber.

"Are you trying to blow our fucking cover?!" Inu shouts, "Like fuck! And what's killing Izuku-kun going to do?"

Bakugou turns to glare at the behemoth of a man in the back seat, he rubs his throat as red eyes watch bruises form.

"I'm not sorry Deku, fuck you." But Izuku can read between the lines, Bakugou saying he is sorry but still fuck you for trying to stop me while our friend is most likely on borrowed time.

"'S kay. We can help her."

A honk, rouses you before footsteps can be heard overhead rushing through the house before blinding light floods down into the basement.

"Finally you're awake." He flicks on all the lights, scrambling to put your feet under you so you can at least sit. Eyes flickering over the room as you try to give your throbbing, unresponsive mind to collect something, anything you can store away for later to aid your escape. Meanwhile the green eyed fucker monologues.

"It took some time for me to adjust your dose, I need you to be just under enough that you won't fight back, your heart rate spikes easily you know…." His words are lost to you as you glance over your shoulder only to wish you never did as your stomach churns in horror. Lined up against the wall behind you are women, women you had posed with.

But what haunts you is how it starts with your missing friend. Her eyes hollowed out, pitch black holes stare back at you as her skin looks paper thin, like a botched mummification or that whoever was trying to preserve her got lucky. She is still in her last scene clothes that are bloodied and torn. Your eyes struggling to follow the line as they progressively become more and more preserved, until your eyes finally land on your last instagram picture, you and that young girl. With the peace signs beneath your eyes.

She looks to still be alive, until you realize she is unblinking with glass eyes and a permanent smile with the help of a stich or two.

He notices your rigidness and frowns.

"Are you not happy? It's hard to save the eyes." He forces your face to meet him with his fingers on your skin, "I made them for you. They're your friends right? I wouldn't want my doll to be lonely."

Your breath comes in ragged huffs as rage consumes you, you were going to kill him. With whatever little power you had left, you were going to end him and savor it.

All these lives, twenty, that you could see, lost, because of you and you negligence. Your eyes glow before a prick comes at your wrist, the power dying in your fingers.

"No." You rasp out as your vision begins to fade.

"Ah come on, I just want you to be a wake for just a bit doll. Just a while longer before I make you mine."

Your world plunges into the depths of darkness.

Your dream of the girls behind you, of their scream as their preserved bodies animate, their glass eyes fixated on you as they crawl across the concrete. Their mouths smelling of formatihide and rot as they lean close to you, voices beneath water or worn by gravel.

"You did this. You killed us."

[wolfish-trickster]

Liar

final part (I like number 7, let's end it at number 7)

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 2,9K

Warnings: angst, typos (not when drunk gods are talking, those are intentional), drunk god bros™, hangover

Tag list:@gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld @belovedadam @mascaracoffee @serebrum @myworldgoesboomz @lokis-leah @nickkie1129 @getyoutmoon @forevernthensome

A/N: thank you so much for reading this unexpected mini series❤️

Loki swayed from one side to another. His question still hanging in the air. Thor was struggling to get back up on his feet. When it looked like he's making progress, he fell down on his knees again and had to start over.

"Has any of you ever seen them like that?" Steve whispered.

Everyone shook their heads. Your eyes remained glued to Loki. He never drank. Well, if he had to he drank fine wine or some other 'fancy' alcohol from Tony's stash, but he never drank to the point of being drunk. Only slightly tipsy.

You remember the first time you saw him drink. It was a long time ago. Tony made him. He said it will make him 'turn that frown upside down'. You saw him drain the whole bottle that day and it did nothing to him. Only tainted his pale cheeks with slight pink. You've seen him drink more than a bottle since then, but it was never enough to make him stumble through his words, or sway around like Jack Sparrow. How much did he had?

Anxiety gnawed on you again. 'He drank because of you. Because of what you told him. Your words pushed a literal god to drink his sadness away.'

"Weeeell?" Loki asked again. When Thor fell down with a thud on the floor again Loki rolled his eyes and was at least pretending to help him stand up. You swear you heard him whisper something along the lines of 'get up you outgrown lightning mouse, don't embarass me in front of her', but that could've been just your imagination.

"For god's sake, how much did you guys have?" Sam asked and Bucky stole Rex from his lap while he was distracted.

Thor while leaning on the back of the couch was counting his fingers. After a while he gave up. "A lot. We made our anescesterors proud," he bared his teeth in a proud grin.

"You mean ancestors, right?"

Thor's head turned to Nat. "Yes! We had a whoooole barrel. One for me," he hugged his brooding brother around shoulders (more like leaned on him with his entire weight) "and one for Kiki," the childish nickname earned Thor a massive shove to the side. "Do not call me dat!"

Bruce facepalmed. "Guys, what are we gonna do with them?"

Clint pulled out his phone, recording everything. "Enjoy while it lasts."

You smacked his phone away, a sudden need to protect your (hopefully still) friend's dignity roused inside of you. "You can't!" you said louder than you wanted.

Clint just shook his head. "You're no fun Y/N," and put his phone away.

You frowned at them. "I know. I know I'm no fun, and I am annoying sometimes, and weak and dumb compared to all of you. I know all of that! I don't care!"

Bucky stared up at you. "What has gotten into you doll?"

"I'll tell you what. I was a bitch, okay? I was overthinking everything ever since I had that argument with Loki. His words started something inside of my head. I started to think they were true, that when my best friend thought those things what must all of you think. And even when I knew they were lies those thoughts stayed up here," you pointed at your head, "and I hate myself for still keeping them there. And just when I thought I'll finally make up with Loki and everything will be good again I fuck up!" you wiped an escaped tear, took a breath and continued.

"It's my fault he's like this. He was drinking because of what I said. All of this is because of me," you hugged your arms to comfort yourself a little. Everyone stared at you, including the drunk brothers.

What you were letting out of your mouth probably didn't make sense as a whole. They were just your anxious thoughts getting free, they didn't care in which order. All of that stress, everything that has been rotting inside of your chest is out now. You feel a little better.

"Daaaarlin', 's not your fault," Loki interrupted your train of thoughts, reminding you that just because you talked your heart out, it didn't fix your mistake of hurting him.

"Yeah, and whose then?" you said calmly.

Loki stood up straighter while still swaying a little. "The univers! She won't let us be toge'er, thas why I haf to make up with 'er," his british accent got deeper.

You slowly walked towards him. "No Loki, this is my fault. And I'll fix it too," you took him by his arm and slowly lead him away. To his bedroom. However, he protested.

"Wait! We have to give 'er flowerz," he leaned down to Thor and yanked some of the flowers along with his golden hair from Thor's head. "Y'kno, to makup."

You shook your head and walked with him a little faster. "You don't have to. All you have to do is go to sleep now."

When the Avengers finally came to their senses Bruce shouted after you. "Hey what about Thor?"

"He's all yours," you shouted back from the elevators and pressed button leading to Loki's floor.

*

'He's heavier than he looks,' you think as you get closer to his bedroom door.

He's been leaning on you for support the whole silent (mildly uncomfortably silent) way to his bedroom. He groaned and mumbled something undecipherable here and there. You wished to be already in his room, put him in his bed and dissappear for few hours. You felt so awkward helping your friend who can barely stand after he drank because of you.

"Can you lean on the wall please?" you asked him when you both stood infront of his locked door. He unhooked his arm from around your shoulders and practically threw himself onto the nearest wall.

"Lean, not fall!"

He chuckled. "Sorrey, is the gravity," he mumbled.

You rolled your eyes and fished out a key from his bedroom door from your sweatpant pocket. When the thin metal slid into keayhole Loki threw his arms around you and gently squeezed you. "Are ya real?"

"Eeeh, yes? Why are you asking?"

"Because," he squished your cheeks together, "you're nice to me. And you're cute," he giggled.

You chuckled and removed his hands from your cheeks. "Thanks, but this isn't you. You need to sleep."

"Not me?" he asked, confusion all over his face. He ran his hand across his torso and settled on his face. "But this is my body and my face! It has to be me!"

"Yes, it is, but the acting isn't. Now come," you took his hand and gently lead him through his open door.

You pushed him to sit on his bed and wanted to walk out, but he won't let go of your hands. He studied them like a little child, turning them, looking at them from every angle. You blushed. He hasn't been this tender for a long time.

You cleared your throat. "You need to sleep. You're gonna have a massive hangover tomorrow."

His eyes left your hands resting in his and bore into yours. But they weren't as clear as usual, they were clouded and lost. "Why?"

"Eeeh, because you're drunk?"

"Why?"

"Because you drank?"

"Why?"

"Because-" no, you can't tell him. "It doesn't matter. Just sleep now," you tried to push him to his bed, but even in this state he was strong and unmovable.

"I don't wanna sleep. I need to find Univers!"

"Well, you can find your universe after you sober up."

"Noooo," he shook his head dramatically, his hair whiping around him. "I can't find my universe. YOU are MY universe," he held your hands close to his chest.

"But I need to find THE Universe! With the T'n'H'n'E infront of it," he started to ramble about Universe conspiring against him and you, but you didn't listen.

You stopped listening after he said 'you are my universe'. Did he mean it?

" 'Your' universe?" you asked and finally pushed him to lie down on his bed.

"Yea," he yawned, his eyelids became too heavy for him to keep open. "I know you hate me, but I.... I...," and he was gone. Off to the dreamland.

You stayed there for few more minutes in case he woke up and finished what he wanted to say, but no such thing happened. You could play on drumms next to him and he wouldn't move.

You softly brushed his hair from his face and covered him with his soft black blanket. "I don't hate you Loki. I never did. I just hope you'll be just as nice and calm when you sober up as you were right now," you caressed his cheek for the last time and walked to his door.

Before you closed, you looked back at him and softly whispered. "You are my universe too Loki."

*

Loki's head pulsed with pain. That's what woke him up, actually. Blindly, he felt around him with his hands, trying to find out where he was. Warm blanket, soft bed, his Asgardian armour still on. It was dirty from clay and smelled weird. Almost like.... alcohol?

'Oh,' he thought, 'that happened.'

He groaned and opened his eyes, only to instantly cover them with his palm. Light from the nearby window was stabbing his eyeballs causing him even bigger headache. All he wanted to do was get a big- no, giant cup of cold water and down it just as fast as he was doing with the alcohol yesterday.

But whenever he tried to use his magic only green and gold sparkles flew from his fingers and when he tried to stand up he got dizy and the whole room started to spin. He fell down onto his bed again. He felt as if his brother hit him with Mjolnir, his famous hammer.

If he wanted a cup of water, he will have to suffer through those few steps to his bathroom.

He reluctantly and slowly stood up and walking very close to wall he made his way for a drink. Or three, just in case.

After a long and unpleasant journey he fell onto his bed again, but not before he pulled blinds over the horribly bright window and rid himself of any dirty and uncomfortable clothes, leaving him only in his underwear.

With his head underneath his blanket, to block out any more light, he tried to remember as much of his actions from yesterday as he could.

From your room he went to gym to punch his frustration out. That's where Thor found him, interrogated him and then dragged him to Asgard to have a drink. Or a whole pub apparently. The rest is a blur. Something about garden, flowers and him and his brother crashing down to Midgard to look for someone. Who? He doesn't remember. Maybe you, since he remembered something about flowers. Maybe his drunk self thought it would be best to make up with you.

But that didn't make any sense, he had nothing to apologize for anymore. You were the one who told him those word. Where even were you anyways?

Just as he finished that thought he heard his doorknob move and his door creaked open.he slowly peaked out from underneath the blanket and in the dimness saw a familiar silhouette. You.

Carefully you put one foot infront of the other and walked straight towards him. You must think he's still asleep, that's why you're so careful. Oh, how he longed to pretend to be asleep and then jump at you and scare you. But he can't. He can't let his mischievious nature do that yet. Not when things between you two aren't like they used to be.

Instead he kept his eyes open and when you got close enough, he slightly moved. "Well look who showed up," he said.

You flinched a little. "Thank god you're finally awake. How are you feeling?"

"Horrible, to be honest," he rubbed his temples. "Why did you say 'finally awake'?"

You completely ignored his question. "Do you need anything? Water? Painkillers?"

"How about you give me an answer?"

You sighed. "You were out for two days Loki. I was starting to think you had alcohol poisoning and died in your sleep. I was checking up on you every few hours to make sure you're still with us," you confessed.

"Oh, alright. Thank you. And I don't need anything. I already obtained it," he pointed at his bedside table with three glasses of water.

"Still, your head must be torturing you. I'll bring you some painkillers," you ran outside before he could stop you.

You returned after few minutes with a small box of pills on one hand and a jar of water in the other. "So you don't have to stand up and go to the bathroom after you drink those three cups," you said and put the jar on his bedside table.

"Thank you. You are oddly kind to me," Loki pointed out.

You hummed and awkwardly stood infront of his bed, trying not to look at his naked torso. You fidgeted with the box for a while. "Just take one when you want," you said finally and put it next to the jar.

"Hey, can you tell me what happened yester- I mean two days ago? Was I and Thor a big disaster?" he asked, wanting you to stay with him.

"Well," you chuckled and scratched the back of your head. "It was a bit awkward and confusing. You and Thor appeared on the balcony and you were looking for universe for some reason."

Loki facepalmed. The pain from embarrassment was bigger than the pain his head was causing. "And let me guess, The Earth's Mightiest Heroes recorded everything, didn't they?"

You shook your head. "No, I didn't let them."

"Thank you," he smiled kindly.

You returned the smile. "Hey, can I sit here?" you pointed at the corner of his bed.

"Sure," he moved a little to give you more space. The bed dipped under your weight a little.

"I want to tell you few things," you said, your eyes watched how you fidgeted with your fingers.

"I'm listening."

"First I want to apologize for what I said. I was tetchy and I know it doesn't excuse what I said," you raised your eyes to his. "I just want you to know I didn't mean them. And I'm sorry. I would like to be your friend again. Please."

Loki bit his tongue from teasingly telling you 'no' and took a deep breath. "I would like to be your friend as well. I don't want us to argue anymore. So," he extended his arm towards you, "friends?"

You beamed at him. To him your smile shone brighter than the sun outside. You took his hand and shook it. "Friends."

"I'm glad," he squeezed your hand gently. He didn't want to let go yet. "And what about the rest of what you wanted to tell me?"

"Oh, right," you looked to the side. "You said something yesterday."

"Something offensive? If so, I apologize-"

"No! Not at all! It just..." you bit your lower lip and tilted your head, something you subconsciously did when you blushed. "Y-you said that... I am your universe," you said carefully.

Loki froze. Did he really say that? You didn't look like you were lying. Why did he tell you that? Why were you bringing that up? Did you possibly feel the same and want to be sure he wasn't kidding when he said it?

Loki must've took too long to respond, because you were trying to pull your hand from his and leave. This time Loki was fast to stop you. "I really said that?"

You gulped. "Yes, ehm did you mean it? Wait, you don't remember. Sorry," you chuckled awkwardly.

"If I said that while drunk, I meant it."

"Really?"

"Yes. I once heard 'alcohol reveals, who a person truly is', in that case I am a romantic," he winked and you giggled. He liked the fact you still giggle at his stupid jokes.

"For real now. You are my universe. My best friend. My partner in crime. And if you allow then I would like to add another title: my paramour. If you feel the same way, that is."

You smiled softly and intertwined your fingers with his. "You are my universe as well, Loki."

"Great," he lifted your joined hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand. "When I sober up and feel better I'm officially asking you out on a date."

"How long does it usually take for you to sober up?"

"A day or two," Loki shrugged and fell back onto his bed. His head started spinning again.

"That's too long," you said and layed next to him. "Can I watch over you while you sleep?"

"Sure thing love," he hugged you to him and kissed the crown of your head.

Bonus

"Darling, it's 2pm."

"Yes, so?"

"Aren't you supposed to take Rex out?"

"Bucky is training him."

"Oh, okay."

"You're so sweet to think of him."

"Hmmm."

*meanwhile*

Steve: hey, aren't you supposed to train him?

Bucky: *lying on the floor, Rex napping on his chest*

Bucky: uuuh, I gave him a break.

Steve: *raises one eyebrow*

Bucky: please don't tell her

Steve: only if I can join in

A/N: I was this close to write the angstiest ending, but I have a good mood today

[danddymaro]

Perfect | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Who Is the Perfect man for (f/n)?

-Something Corny, and sweet.

Word Count:  2826

Perfect 

He found it impossible to compete with his closest friend, not just because it was morally wrong to try and get the same girl, but because all in all, he had no chances with her, and he was well aware.

'Because even if I'm wrong,' He started, '...Even if it's not Steve... then I'd still be the last person in the world you’d ever look at,' He silently declared, truly believing it.

'You could always do so...so much better than me,' He thought with dejection.

'I know it...but even then, I'm willing to make a fool of myself. 

 I want to let you know because it's getting harder and harder to just sit back,'

"(f/n)" He said while following up with a harsh swallow,

"I'm not perfect like Steve," Bucky started, "...I’m not someone who’s loved by everyone, and looked up by just about every child on the damn planet," he confessed, and at his sudden outburst she let out a surprised peep, turning to him with wide eyes,

“Wha-”

" And I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm not him!" He cried out. " But I wish I was..." he added, knowing just how much the woman idolized the other man.

"I really wish I were." He added with a short mutter.

 (f/n) eyed his pain-stricken face with concern, because there was an obvious shine of heartbreak in his steel-colored eyes, causing a hitch in her breath, her heart stopped by the sight before it tore in two, further breaking as she saw his expression grow even more with anguish and melancholy as his chest heaved with heavy breaths.

- This was the endgame, the all or nothing for him,

"In Fact, I'm the furthest thing from a hero and I know that." he continued on, a dry laugh tailing the words because he found it almost amusing how little he was in comparison to the perfect blonde.

‘When I stand next to him… I can’t help but feel like I’m less.’

"- I know what I am," he added, trying his best to let his wavering smile last.

He wanted to at least look brave, to look like a real man and not the groveling mess he really was as he forced out the words, battling rough the pain that threatened to take over.

Her (e/c) colored eyes went wide as he said that, and she immediately rushed to his side, " No Bucky, please don't start with that, you're a good person!" she said with a certainty that almost convinced him.

Like many times before, she rushed to his side, both Metaphorically and in literal actions, trying her best to assure him, and it was yet another reason why he cherished her so much.

"It can't be true if I don't believe it," She said stubbornly, throwing him a glowing grin as she said the words, the expression brightening even more as he looked at her dumbfounded,

"What does that even mean?" He asked her, a little chuckle leaving him.

"Just what I said," She went on, " It can't be true if I don't accept it," She reiterated.

He let the words settle in, and it wasn’t long before eye understood, by then offering  her a tired, little smirk  as he shook his head, "So, it’s just that easy?" He asked her, the moronic simplicity of it amusing him.

"For me it is," she told him, "For me, it's easy to accept that you're not a monster. It's easy for me to believe it, and even if you keep telling me otherwise, Buck...It won't change the way I see you," She explained,

"So just think of it that way, that, even if the entire world believes it, you included, there's not a damn thing in the world that will let me fall into the same train of thought.

As long as I'm kicking there's doubt,

And as long as there is doubt, it can't be accepted as truth," She spelled out, the certainty she displayed showing to be unwavering.

‘Only you...’ He thought with disbelief, 

“You really are something else,” He muttered, the little grumble rousing a little giggle.

She was the anchor to his unsteady boat and all the while the kindness she showed him made him fall harder under her spell, giving him more excuses to come closer to her, it also scathed him, because he knew that she only saw him as the pathetic mess in need of care.

And he wanted much more than that. 

He shook his head and took advantage of the closeness of their bodies by taking hold of her, his hands at her upper arms,

"- (F/n)," He started, mauling over how it had taken him months to find the perfect moment, the instant where he'd risk everything.

‘This is it,’ He told himself.

"You don't need to coddle me like that," he said with a soft sound of amusement escaping his nose. Afterward, he then took a deep, slow breath through his parted lips, before he tightened his hold by only a small degree, careful to not hurt her with his metal arm.

"Look... I can't be him, and I'm sorry," He said softly, truly sounding regretful for something he had no control over.

"I can't be Steve, and there's not a day that goes by that I don't wish I could stand in his shoes for just an instant, and feel what it's like to have you see me with anything but pity.” He revealed, “ Because then...(F/n) you’d see me in the way I really want you to look at me as...as a man." he confessed.

‘I don’t want you to feel bad for me anymore. In fact, I don’t want to be swallowed up by the same pity myself,’ He thought to himself.

" Look, I'm not as smart as Banner, because I still struggle with the technology of today and I know it'll get annoying," he said trailing off, not finding a single strong point he held in the field, "But I'll try... I really will," he swore.

At the confession, a small smile made its way onto her features, because he was right, he was a helpless mess when it came to the more modern things, but, to her, it was adorable.

She found it cute, and just another reason to stay by him a bit longer.

Watching him fiddle with his phone with that adorable, little face of confusion he gave her was all the more reason to sit closer to him, taking hold of his hand within hers to lead his finger across the screen and navigate through all its apps and features.

" I'm not wealthy like Stark… in fact, I could never have that much money and spoil you as much as he could." He told her, " I know some women like fancy jewelry and nice expensive dinners, but the most I can do for you now is a small bouquet of ( favorite flowers)...because I know how much you like them," He said softly, having noticed how much she stopped by to visit the little patch of them as they took small walks.

"Sorry," She said with a sheepish smile, " I know it gets annoying," She said while petting the small petal, " But I really like these flowers," She said while gazing at the blossom,

" They're my favorite," She told him, having to only mention it once for him to remember, ingraining it in his brain that if he ever got her flowers they'd be the ones she loves most.

' I know everything about you,' he thought with fondness. ' Because...Because I always remember everything you have to say...I cling to every word because I know that sometimes you think you’re not heard.'

"I remember every bit of you, down to the stupid little faces you want me to forget," he said making her hold back a small chuckle as she glanced away, turning pink at the mention.

"I'm not a prince like Thor.. or ...even a God..." he continued on, speaking with just abit more lightheartedness while gazing at the sweet expression she wore.

"I'm not funny like Clint since you seem to love his jokes so much...for whatever reason," he said with furrowed brows, seemingly stumped on that one because Clint Barton’s humor was just simple, stupid puns that made everyone else roll their eyes.

"And don't get me started on Sam..." He muttered, detesting how easily the two flowed with each other, all to the point they seemed to share a single, working  brain cell, and it only made the older man wish he had the same ability to just work with her without the awkwardness and fear.

‘But I just get so nervous...’ he lamented, ‘ I just end up overthinking it all, and it’s because you have this effect on me,

In fact, it’s a miracle I’m even getting through this now,’

(f/n) shook her head at him, because Bucky didn't need to tell her jokes to smile, and they didn't need to make stupid banter either.

she didn't need to find a reason to smile with him, because, she just did, naturally.

- It was like second nature while at his side.

"I'm not as charming as that Loki guy.

I see the way you smile at the sound of his voice and I'd be lying if I said I really didn't wish mine sounded like his," He said with a dry chuckle, knowing he grew especially jealous when the other man purposely pronounced certain words for her, just to make her giggle, living for the attention he received.

'Oh...Bucky,' (f/n) thought while shaking her head, because, truth be told, the sound of his voice was much more her taste. She loved the sound of it from when it goes higher with joy, or mellows down in serenity, and even when it trembles as he tells her his worries.

‘I don’t think you realize how expressive you’ve become,’ She mused, ‘ Oh Buck, I could go on forever listening to you instead.' She thought to herself. 'I'd love nothing more than to hear you every morning, and not just outside my door. 

I mean first thing...right as I wake up.

And then...afterwards, fall asleep to your murmurs.' she inwardly spoke with the same bashful expression that had yet to cease,

'Bucky...' She thought with a soft smile. 'You’re such an idiot.'

"- I'm just not... not him. I'm not any of these men.

I don't have anything to offer you...

Not a single thing to my name that can bring you pride, " he admitted while looking down at his hands, both gloved limbs because he detested looking down at what actually lay beneath the piece of clothing.

"My arm is like a spoon on a stove on most summer days and a block of ice on winter ones.

So, I could never give you a fully warm touch, one that’s comforting and that I know you deserve." He said softly, having gone over the thought so many times that it haunted him.

"I'm not perfect..." he said dejectedly, saying so in a way that seemed as though it was meant for himself to remind him of just who he was before he got his hopes up too far.

‘What am I even doing...?’ He asked himself, his shoulders slowly falling as he weighed in the facts.

‘Oh...I'm not either Bucky,' She thought while feeling her heart race.

What he believed to be perfection was all misguided, because All the details and traits he wanted to have were things he didn’t need.

"I know I'm not.

I'm at the point where I'm still struggling to remember who am...and much more, somehow make up for all the wrong I’ve done.

(f/n) , I'm Still struggling to accept what I've done...which is a lot." He confessed, sighing deeply. " I've done so much wrong that I don't ever think ill be able to atone for my wrongdoings.

In short, I could give you a list of the many things wrong with me, and it'd run for miles, but there is one thing that I know is right,

And...And it's that I love you." He said while finally uttering the three words he's wanted to tell her for ages now.

"I love you so much (f/n), it hurts right here when I'm not with you, " He admitted, clutching his chest, placing his palm right above his bouncing heart.

Taking her hands in his he lifted them to his lips, offering her a tender kiss to each Knuckle, and all the while she stood watching, still stunned by his confession.

"Doll, you make my heart race like crazy!" he said with astonishment, peering down at her with glowing eyes.

"Sometimes, you make me feel like I'm back where I was when everything was simple and good, and for those moments, I feel fully human.

Yeah, There are times when my brain goes haywire, and I get stupidly tongue tied, but, when I’m not  rendered stupid, with you...everything feels right.

 And just looking at you does that to me!" he said cocooning her hands in his.

"You give me nostalgia of good times and make me forget I'm a mess, and that's all I want now, to feel like a regular guy and...maybe, settle down.” He revealed, letting her know what she inspired in him.

‘A family? For me?’ He asked himself, ‘ You make me think of building an actual future,’

“-I know one thing for certain and ...and It's that whatever I become after this will revolve around you,

Always.

Because you're the center of my universe (f/n).

I didn't want to force you into loving me, to pity you into accepting me, that's why I've been silent, but I also can't keep this to myself anymore, because I feel like it’s slowly killing me," He said while tightening his hold on her.

“Keeping this from you is torture,” He added." If I lose you because I was too afraid to take the risk I don't know what I'd do with myself. And I know that even if everyone else in the world has a better shot than me...Even if they're all better in every way, no one else can love you the way I do,” He told her. 

“And you deserve to be given the world, if not the entire universe!

(F/n) ,  I'm asking for the chance, The chance to try and hand it to you, " he pleaded. "That's all I need, it's all I need to prove myself. I'll try my best to make you happy and treat you like a prince- no like a queen. " He went on, rambling and unwinding everything he'd kept silent.

Her (e/c) eyes were wide and her brows rose as high as they could, shaking like a leaf in his hands, and seeing that he felt anxious,

"Don't be afraid of me, please. You can even say no if you want, just don't leave me.

 Even if you don't want me as a man, I still want to be able to see you, I still want to be a part of your life, no matter how meaningless it is, because I just want to make you happy."

His eyes then met hers, and in that one glance, his heart exploded into little bits and pieces.

Her eyes were glistening with tears, but beneath that, they twinkled with the glee. They sparkled like they never had before and he couldn't help but stare at the woman, becoming dumbstruck.

" You took all this time to list the things you're not Bucky..." she replied, finally speaking, finding her voice. " but you forgot to mention everything that makes me want you instead," She told him.

She then wrapped her arms around his neck, latching onto him, unashamed at coming closer.

Without skipping a beat he lifted her up and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Spinning her around he smiled,

"Doll... I'll make you happy, I promise...I'll find a reason to make you smile every single day." He swore, heading down for a kiss he'd craved.

Through her response she smiled, kissing him back with the same yearning, thinking of no one else but the man that held her so dearly,

“I love you too,” She said back, the words filling him with even more joy because while he wasn’t in any way near faultless, she loved him.

‘I’m not perfect either,’ She mused, ‘But you think I’m worth being handed the entire world and more,’ She went on, truly touched by his declarations, 

In spite of his every insecurity and doubt, she saw him as her own perfection, finding it amusing because all the while, she’d been afraid to take the step closer, 

“I couldn’t ask for better,” She breathed, 

“I couldn’t love anyone else,”

[jenomark]

DECEMBER

➔Pairing: Doyoung x Reader (Female) | Jaehyun x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Plot (ft. smut, romance, angst, fluff etc.) ➔Warnings: Vaginal penetration, cheating, angst etc. ➔Word count: 3,317

➔Summary: You are dating handsome and lovable Jaehyun. You stay at his apartment all of the time, along with his roommate Doyoung. Doyoung has feelings for you, which he doesn’t quite understand. What begins as an innocent crush changes the lives of all three people over the course of seven months.

AUGUST SEPTEMBER OCTOBER NOVEMBER

-Sorry it’s so late!! January & February will be up sometime soon! 💚

  The very first time you had crossed over that threshold, it was to embrace Jaehyun. With your first date jitters, you nearly collapsed into his arms, tripping over your own feet in his doorway. Luckily, he found the idea of you quite charming, even if he had to stop you from breaking your nose on the first date.

  Your old work friend had set you and Jaehyun up on a blind date. You almost didn’t show up, using every excuse under the sun as to why you couldn’t go. Truthfully, you weren’t ready to be in a working relationship with anyone, especially not a blind date. Upon seeing him and letting him, quite literally, sweep you off of your feet, you were happy you went through with it.

  Your first impression of Jaehyun was that he was drop dead gorgeous. You could hardly speak eloquently around him, but that didn’t matter, because you liked the way he led the conversation. He wasn’t perfect, but he made up for the things you lacked. He was a little clumsy, just like you, which gave you a breath of relief. You were almost too happy when he accidently knocked his beer glass off of the table with a switch of his elbow, his pretty face flush with the embarrassment that seemed to follow you all your life. He made you feel you were not alone, which might have been the very reason you held onto him. He was everything you needed at the time: a fun, beautiful distraction. 

 Though you were no longer friends with the people who set you up, you decided to keep Jaehyun as yours. His job was stable, the sex was great, and he was someone you felt you could pass the time with. Though the relationship itself lacked a lot, it felt like the right thing to jump headfirst into. You weren’t expecting much, honestly. Liking the feeling of falling for someone was enough for you, and you hoped it would be enough for him.

  You definitely weren’t expecting to grow so attached to crossing the same threshold time and time again. You spent more time with him than you had with any of your exes from past relationships. You were having sex with Jaehyun on a daily basis, staying the next morning's at his apartment, digging through his snack cabinets and avoiding his hermit-like roommate. You were someone’s girlfriend. You liked the way it felt having a place to come back to when you were feeling lost, to watch movies in, and to take a shower using all the hot water. It felt a little bit like coming home, which made you realize how much you had been craving closeness with someone.

  It only took you a few months to realize that the person you had been coming home to wasn’t exactly Jaehyun. It might have been clear from early on that Jaehyun wasn’t as right of a fit for you as you had originally thought, that you both stuck together because it was easier, and the sex was enough to entertain the idea of more. They say ignorance is bliss, after all. You both got something out of the relationship, so it was much harder to break-up for good. So, you kept it going, and because you kept it going, you started falling in love with someone else.

 The truth was always much harder spoken than not.

 You couldn’t stop finding the humor in everything. Doyoung set you down after kicking in his bedroom door, his eyes searching your face for acceptance. The sound of the door opening and hitting the opposite wall replayed in your mind, the clumsiness of the situation warming your heart. You could hear it echo a thousand times, each time seeming more comical than the last. You cupped your hand to your face, tilted your head back and let yourself laugh until you were hot in the face and near tears. 

“What is funny?” he asked, though he was on the brink of laughter, too.

“I don’t even know.” you said. “I just have this uncontrollable need to laugh. I’m really nervous. I think I love you.” 

 You laughed loudly, nearly bending over because your stomach hurt so much. When you felt a stab in your side, you pressed your hand to it and unfolded your body until you were standing straight. You tried keeping your face stoic, but you were failing miserably. Doyoung was staring at you, not completely sure what planet you were from.

“Let’s just fucking do this.” you said.

 You crossed the gap between you, letting your body knock into his, and you kissed him. You were still giggling a little, but as Doyoung’s kisses turned more serious, you swallowed it. You grabbed the back of his neck and felt the edges of his rain soaked hair tickle your fingers.  The passion struck you both again, coming full-force like it had never left. 

  You started rubbing the front of his pants, hoping to rouse him. Doyoung took your hand and clasped it with his, bringing it away. You wanted to feel his bare skin on yours, so you tried removing his shirt, but Doyoung grabbed your other hand and brought it away. You stood holding hands and kissing, Doyoung leading you.

“Let me touch you. “ you said, trying to pull away from his grip.

  When you yanked your hands away, there was no trace of laughter on your lips anymore. You felt like you were staring into his soul when you looked into his eyes. You stood facing him, your decisions hanging between you, weightless and certain. 

   Doyoung stood still as you placed your fingers against his chest. You moved them underneath his shirt, his skin warm to the touch. You felt him, as if he were going to disappear after a few minutes, the spell having been broken. When you were finished, Doyoung’s hand was waiting for you. You placed your hand inside of his and let him hold it. You led him to his own bed, sitting down on it and stretching your body across it. 

 The light in the room was dim and romantic. Though things started off with a bang, you and Doyoung were moving slowly. You made out with him, with his body on top of yours, and your hands scratching up his back. You couldn’t stop getting excited whenever you touched a new part of him. All of the sensations were firing off signals in your brain at once, the serotonin making you come alive. All of the memories of your lives together were replaying over and over again. There weren't  any thoughts spared for Jaehyun. It was just you and Doyoung, building up to the layers of clothes between you. 

  Doyoung pulled his shirt over his head. From there, it felt like time had unfrozen. At last, you were together. You were intentionally in his bed, your fingers feeling for his belt buckle, and his hand making a home against your hip. He was looking at you, his eyes not shying away from yours. His lips were on your neck, his lower body pressing against yours. You opened your legs and invited him inside.

 “I love you.” Doyoung whispered before putting his lips to your lower belly.

 He lifted your shirt over your head. He stripped you naked, stopped only to look down at your body in all its glory. You wished you could get inside of his head to find out what he was thinking, to see if you were everything he wanted. Kicking off his pants, Doyoung knelt down on top of you and pushed the hair from your face. You could feel the old laughter wanting to tear itself up your throat, and you accepted it as happiness wanting to bubble out.

“I love you.” Doyoung said. “And it’s madness.”

 He slipped inside of you. Doyoung was gentle with your body, moving slow, and holding your head to make sure he didn’t hurt you. You wanted him all over you, but you loved the way it felt to be wrapped up in his arms safely, not knowing what type of future you’d both have from that moment forward. You felt like you were free falling.

 You couldn’t catch your breath. Feeling Doyoung fill you up was overwhelming. You wrapped your legs around him to bring him closer. You bit down on his ear for a second before releasing it from your teeth and moaning loudly. You let him tease your body with his tongue before moving inside of you again, the Doyoung of the past being laid to rest inside of his sheets. 

   You had never cheated on anyone before. You didn’t know it was possible for you to be with someone and entertain the idea of someone else. You weren’t that kind of girl, or, you weren’t that kind of girl, in the beginning. 

  When you first met Doyoung, he mostly kept to himself. Hooking up with Jaehyun meant sneaking around when Doyoung wasn’t home. You think the excitement of it all was the foundation of your budding relationship with Jaehyun. It was all simply too fun to give up. When Doyoung was home, he hardly came out of his bedroom the first few weeks. You thought it was his idea of being independent or keeping a low profile, or maybe it was a respect thing, but you’d never met a man that was so conspicuous. Whenever Doyoung moved, your eyes followed, like you knew he wanted them to. It became a bit of a game to meet him when you stepped out of Jaehyun’s bedroom, to see how far he would go to not look at you. And even though you were sure he hated your guts for interrupting his perfect existence, you couldn’t stop yourself from the obsession of getting him to like you, to talk to you, ot to want to be around you.

 The first time Jaehyun tried breaking up with you, when you had talked to Doyoung in the kitchen and you had linked your pinky with his, was the very first time you had really felt anything for another person that extended past “Fun”. Most of your relationships were just full of ideas of what you and the other person could be, how good they appeared on paper,  and what was worth keeping and what was worth throwing away. With Doyoung, he had laid everything out on the table in a way that made you feel seen. After awhile, you realized that you didn’t care that much about Jaehyun breaking up with you, but you were more worried about losing Doyoung.

 It was wrong. You knew it was wrong in every way your brain tried to spin it around. You had fantasies about fate, little red strings tying your fingers to his. You were falling in love with what was meant to be, and what means you would go to in order to find the truest form of that love. You thought of many excuses that felt like bad writing in the movies. If it was so wrong, why did it feel so right? Why would life choose to throw him into the mix without it meaning anything? All of those things spun around and around in your mind until you started to believe them, and gradually, until they were all too powerful to ignore.

  It was wrong. It is wrong. It will always be wrong. Jaehyun might not have been a storybook perfect love, but he was human, and he treated you better than people thought. And yet, kissing Doyoung couldn’t help you remember what was morally correct, or what kind of situation you were really in. You made the choice to kiss him. You could have made the choice to stop, but you knew you never would. December would come and go, the sex being even better than you imagined, and January would knock you on your ass.

    In the back of your mind, as you tried to grapple with your decisions, all you could hear was the bang of Doyoung’s door.

  The mistletoe hung from the doorway, like a scene in a foreign movie. You let Jaehyun pass under it first while you stood back a little, hoping that no one would notice neither of you wanted to be caught underneath it together. You looked up at the green mistletoe, its red ribbon falling apart, and you thought it was a perfect metaphor for your current situation. As you passed under it, Jaehyun’s mother's voice chimed in, her idea of romanticism beginning and ending with her son and his girlfriend of nearly half a year.

“You must kiss!” she said, clapping her hands together. “It’s Christmas! Jaehyun, don’t stop loving your girlfriend because we’re around.”

  Jaehyun’s family never felt like yours. As they all stared at you, you realized how badly you’d always wanted to reach that part of him, the part that made him who he was. They were nice people who treated you kindly, but you were still a stranger that didn’t belong in their family quite yet. You blamed it on Jaehyun’s inability to take your relationship seriously enough to introduce you to his mother sooner, but got rid of those thoughts as soon as you remembered what you had done to him. It was an odd feeling being in such a personal space during a holiday without feeling like your existing relationship was the whole truth.

  Quickly, only to please his mother, Jaehyun took your elbow and pulled you underneath the doorway. He kissed your cheek lightly, his eyes never meeting yours. He let your elbow go and walked further into the kitchen, leaving you behind. The Christmas party continued, his family tearing their eyes from you and going back to whatever they had been doing.

  The weird feeling between you and Jaehyun had been happening for a week or so. It had nothing to do with Doyoung and everything to do with the fights you were both having. Jaehyun said you weren’t appreciative of how hard he was working in his personal life, and you were annoyed he paid attention to you so little that he had no idea you were a part of that life, too. Your days consisted of watching Jaehyun storm off into the night after a fight, you crying alone in his room, and then letting Doyoung rub your back until you fell asleep. Then, the next day would reset and all of the mystery resentment would start again.

  Doyoung, during all of this, was patient. He didn’t push you towards breaking up with Jaehyun for good, even though you felt he had every right to, and even though it’s the course you both knew you wanted to take. He didn’t involve himself in the petty arguments between you and Jaehyun, he just made his presence known in case you needed him. He was supportive for someone who had to watch his roommate and the girl he was in love with give each other brisk kisses some days and shoot daggers at each other the next.

    You leaned against the kitchen counter and waited for Jaehyun to talk to you, to show you that he knew you were there. You thought coming to the party would make you feel better mentally. The Christmas holiday was always your favorite, but you had gotten into an argument in the car on the way over, and the jollyness of the season had been sucked out of your soul.

“I don’t know what we’re doing anymore.” Jaehyun had said in the car, as soon as you pulled up in front of his parents house.

 You watched his fingers grip the steering wheel before you spoke. “If you want to break up with me, just do it.”

  You wanted him to be the one to say it, to break it off because you knew you were too cowardly to do it. Your mind was made up. You wanted Doyoung, but you were dealing with the guilt of adding him to your life and subtracting Jaehyun. You didn’t want Jaehyun or Doyoung to lose their friendship either, so you kept yourself in the misery of waiting for someone else to make the first move. It was a terrible habit to have. 

    Jaehyun shook his head, as if he were shaking out bad thoughts. You could see snow flurries hit the windshield and melt against the heat of the glass. They kept your own thoughts at bay, though they were frantic. There was a time when the image of sitting in front of Jaehyun’s family home at Christmas would have pleased you. Now, it made you feel sick to the stomach, especially when you remembered that Doyoung had nowhere to go for Christmas. You tried not to picture him sitting home at alone, bundled up in his soft blue robe, his lips so pouty and kissable.

    You blinked away the memory of an hour ago from your head and focused on where you stood in the kitchen. There should be no moments but the present. Jaehyun’s dad was kind and offered you a plate of food, which you accepted but didn’t eat. His aunts and cousins tried their best to invite you into their conversations, but you felt like you could never relate to any of them. After going through the motions of trying to enjoy Jaehyun’s family’s Christmas traditions and ignoring the sadness invading your brain, you asked if Jaehyun would take you back home.

“Now?” he asked.

“I don’t feel well.” you lied.

“I want to stay for another hour.” he said, his voice rising. “I haven’t seen my family together in a long time.”

  You put your hand on his arm and tried to portray that you were apologetic, but you just felt desperate. Your eyes were glassy, like you might cry. You didn’t want to guilt him into making a decision, that wasn’t your motive, but you couldn’t help feeling emotional.

Jaehyun sighed. “I’ll get my jacket. I guess I can drive you home and come back.”

  You decided to wait on the front steps alone while he got his jacket, the snow flurries landing in your eyelashes. When Jaehyun came back outside, you could tell that he was thinking of something to say. You could feel what was about to happen, so you braced yourself against the coldness Jaehyun had a habit of releasing when he felt backed into a corner.

“You’re not happy with me.” he said. “And I’m not happy with you.”

  You could feel a little sting in your chest when he said those words out loud, because the truth always hurts. The girl you used to be was clinging hard to the idea that maybe Jaehyun was where you were supposed to be, that maybe he could take those words back. There was no part of you that wanted him, but you couldn’t keep yourself away from the What Ifs. They clouded your mind and often made you feel confused.  

Jaehyun continued, “I don’t want to say things that will hurt your feelings on Christmas, so I will keep it short. We’re not good together. You’re not the person I see myself with in the future. You’re nothing like what I imagined. I don’t even know why I held onto you for this long. It feels...cruel. I think we’re a little too codependent.”

   The tears that fell were both natural to your emotional state and to the cold biting at your cheeks. You listened to him, your eyes not knowing where on his handsome face they should focus. When you spoke up to tell Jaehyun you agreed with him, he cut you off.

“- I cheated on you.” he said. “I cheated on you that night I went to the bar without you.”

[dadolorian]

Seven Days of Valentines, (Diamonds and Daddies side story) Whiskey x F!Reader CH 2

A/N: Thanks to @talesfromtheguild​ for Beta reading and helping me with many ideas for this! This will be a weekly series leading up to Valentines Day

I try to keep Readers physical appearance as open as possible for this story, but please note in these chapters shes going to become more of a ‘character’, some specific interests of hers are going to come into play.

This is canon to the main Diamonds and Daddies story, but i am uploading as its own thing. You do not need to have read Diamonds and Daddies to read this, just know its a fic about Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels being a Sugar Daddy and the reader is a professional Sugar Baby.

Fandom: Kingsman the golden circle Ship: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x Cis F!reader  Warning/tags: established relationship, fluff, semi-public sex, sex against a window, P in V sex, fingering, Oral (M and F receiving) , multiple orgasms, slight over stimulation, dirty talk, choking, Daddy kink, DD/LG/BDSM style relationship, creampie,biting/marking, possessive language, aftercare, Jacks both a gentleman and a DIRTY BASTARD, Reader is 100% into it all

Word count: 6K +

My master list Seven days of Valentines masterlist  AO3 LINK Buy me a Kofi

Summary: Whiskey whisks his Sugar baby away for a romantic Valentine’s getaway. Day two he takes her to see her favorite work of art. 

Tuesday  9th of February

The second morning in Rome started with an early morning makeout session, soft, gentle kisses roused you from sleep, followed by a shower and a traditional Italian breakfast delivered to your suite as the two of you sat watching people make their way to the coliseum. 

The coffee and crespelles were a perfect way to start the day, made all the more better by Jack’s large hand resting on your thigh, drawing gentle patterns with his thumb as you each sipped your mugs in comfortable silence. 

By eight thirty AM the two of you were dressed in your warm clothes and out the door, ready to partake in whatever adventure Jack had planned. 

You sat literally on the edge of your seat in excitement as you were driven around Rome to our destination for the day. Jack warmly chuckled beside you at your boundless enthusiasm, smiling wider to himself as you began snapping pictures along the way of the general beauty that was Rome. 

Once you were dropped off Jack took your hand in his, leading the way up the road and round the corner. You practically hummed in excitement beside him, bouncing in glee as the large walls of Vatican City loomed over you. 

“Jaaaacccckkkk!” you squealed delightedly, as he led you to the back of a growing queue. “Are we going where I think we’re going?” 

He chuckled at your excitement again. “Couldn't take my girl to Rome without letting her see her favorite work of art could I?” 

You bounced in place, trying to express your excitement and gratitude in any articulate way you could, you cupped his face and pulled him down for an expressive kiss on his cheek. 

“You have no idea how excited I am Jack!” You elated, almost jumping for joy beside him. 

He tried to calm you down and keep you still by resting his hands on your hips, pulling you to his front in a gentle embrace. 

“I have a fair idea Sugar,” he hummed, kissing your brow affectionately. “I remember when you mentioned wanting to visit Rome, on our New Year's trip, just a passing comment, but your eyes lit up when you mentioned the Sistine Chapel, I just knew I had to take you one day Darlin.” 

Your hands rested lightly on his chest, with your gaze cast down you smiled, tenderly remembering the brief exchange you had shared months prior. At the time you never took much note of your conversation, having forgotten all about it until Jack had surprised you with this trip, but clearly Jack had taken notice, and went through great pains to make your wish you had barely ever shared before a reality. 

You had lost count of the amount of times he proved himself of how utterly perfect he was for you was incalculable. 

He amazed you every day, outdoing himself with each little surprise or adoring words, each grand gesture or gentle peck, each casual touch or passionate kiss.

Jack Daniels, as cocky, ridiculous, and flirtatious as he was, was everything you had ever hoped for. 

“I wish I knew, just how to show my gratitude to you Jack,” you whispered softly to him.

He gently pulled your gaze back up to meet his.

 “Darlin, you don’t need to do anything other than stay with me. You’ve made this lonely heart feel something again for the first time in years, and that's more than enough for me.” 

Your lower lip wobbled and your eyes threatened to spill, Jack preemptively stopped your sappy tears from spilling with a gentle kiss to your lips. 

“Come on Darlin, lines moving.”  

Jack walked arm in arm with you throughout the whole tour of Vatican city, your gaze was often fixed to the beautiful architecture or paintings, but everytime you glanced over at Jack, his eyes were fixed on you. You had his whole attention, not the paintings, not the tour guide, you. 

“Jack?” You asked softly, concerned he was only humoring you and didn't actually care about anything you were seeing. “Aren't you interested in all this?”

“Oh I am Darlin,” he reassured. “But I love watching the way your eyes light up, better than any painting here.” 

“You’re just trying to butter me up Cowboy,” you smiled up at him. 

“Can’t help it Sugar, pretty thing like you on my arm? Who can blame me?” 

“You flatter me Jack, You’ve been sweet talking me from the moment we met, I don't even think you would know how to stop,” you teased. 

He chuckled and kissed your cheek. 

“No Darlin, I don't think I would know how to either.” 

It was impossible to express just how fantastical it felt to see some of the famous pieces found in the Vatican museum, Raphael’s ‘Transfiguration’, The statue of Laocoön and his sons, The Vision of St. Helen , Da Vinci's St. Jerome in Wilderness, masterpieces you had only ever seen photos of on the internet or in your meager collection of art History books. Completely indescribable.  But these experiences paled in comparison to seeing Michelangelo’s Creation of Adam, photos could not compare to how breathtaking it was. It loomed above you, alongside dozens of other High Renaissance masterpieces, but your eyes were pulled back to that one each time. 

You imagined Michelangelo, centuries ago, in his genius, laying on his back atop the precarious scaffolding as he painted it, how grueling it was, how long it took.

You never thought you would ever see it, not in person, it had been such a fantasy to you you had never really mentioned it before until Jack had asked you those months ago.

Daddies had taken you on vacations before, trips to sunny beaches and tropical getaways, when they wanted to impress you and have you show some skin, but not once had they ever asked you where you wanted to go, what you wanted to see. 

There had been no desire to share your interests, to take you to experience culture and art over bikinis and parties. Jack had been right, you had been with some shit Daddies before you met him. 

The picturesque beaches and clear oceans may have been pretty to look at, but it couldn't hold a candle to the beauty above you.  

Standing there, with your neck strained up at the ceiling, your eyes began to water for the umpteenth time since you had landed in Italy, but you willed them away this time, focusing on the painting to burn the experience into your memory and refusing to let the tears fog your vision as emotions overwhelmed you once again. 

“Baby?” Jack’s soft voice cut in, his arms wrapped around your middle as he came up behind you, kissing your forehead. “You good?”

“Perfect, Jack,” you whispered back, giving your neck a break by resting the back of your head on him. 

“Everything you ever dreamed about?” He asked, following your gaze to the painting.

“Better,” you sighed, squeezing his arms around you. 

You clung to Jack’s arm as you made your way out of Vatican city and back to the streets of Rome. He patted your hand affectionately, placing a kiss to your temple. 

You had been so...so... moved, by Jack's surprise, by the artworks, by the experience and you knew you couldn’t express it to him. And you knew he knew.

You were beginning to understand the magnitude of his affections, he wasn’t just trying to impress you, to show off and boost his ego like many men before him. 

No, Jack's masculinity wasn’t so fragile that he had to prove himself like that, he may flash his money for you, to buy you trinkets and clothes just as they all had before, but the way he went about it was so different. 

Stuff wasn’t what he relied on to keep you with him, no, he kept you by his side by paying attention, by caring about you, for you.

He wanted to make you happy, truly, and he expected nothing from you in return apart from your companionship. 

His words from earlier in the day were really starting to strike a chord with you.

“You’ve made this lonely heart feel something again for the first time in years.”

You looked up at him from the corner of your eye as he led you through the streets. He seems to know where he wanted to go, and you trusted him not to get you lost. 

“Jack,” you whispered softly. “I-” 

“Don’t need to say a thing Baby,” he interrupted. “I know.” 

“But, I-” you sighed. “How?” 

“How do I know?” he asked, amused. “Baby you thank me every damn time I do something for you, no matter how big or small, I've picked up on a few things. I can tell when you’re struggling to figure out how to thank me.” 

He stopped in his tracks, guiding you to his front and pulling one of your hands up to his lips to kiss it. 

“You tear up when something specially meaningful, those are the times you can’t figure out what to say,” he cupped your face in his large, warm hands. They felt nice against the chill that had clung to your cheeks. “But you don’t need to say anything Sugar, I can tell just by lookin at’cha you’re grateful. It made you happy, that's all I wanted. I don’t need a ‘thank you’, I just need you.” 

Your lip wobbled and you pouted up at him, making him chuckle. 

“See? Just like that, and I get yer waterworks running,” he teased, thumb wiping a tear that was threatening to spill.

You rolled your eyes and swatted his chest playfully. 

“None of that Darlin” he laughed, ducking his head to kiss you. “My Baby gets all sappy for Daddy’s sweet words huh?”

“Don’t get cocky,” you giggled, trying to duck from him gleefully. 

“Thought you liked me ‘cocky’,” he joked as you turned and tried to walk off, pulling you back into his grip, back flush against his front. “Specially when it’s inside-” 

“Jack! People are watching!” you laughed, swatting at him over your shoulder, grateful at least your conversation wasn't too loud and probably not understood by the locals who rolled their eyes at the childish tourists as they passed. 

He laughed merrily, letting you go and gently taking your hand. 

“Such a killjoy,” he joked, leading the two of you again. “Come on then Sugar, lets get some lunch.”

Lunch  turned out to be in this adorable local cafe hidden down many sidestreets. 

Jack told him a work colleague told him about the hidden gem, unknown to most tourists, and had made a point to bring you there. 

You sat inside, safe from the bitter cold as you sipped your hot drinks and shared croissants and muffins.

Silence passes between you, as you watch from your window the small trickle of locals walk by, trudging through the remaining snow slush, on their way to wherever it was they were going.  It was a perfect way to relax after your tour, Jack told you to enjoy it while it lasted, because he had one more surprise for the day. 

Jack’s second surprise was a tour of Castel sant'angelo. 

It was originally built as a mausoleum, over the centuries it became a fortress and castle, in modern times, it had become a museum. 

“Two museum tours in one day?” You asked, humming as the two of you walked over the beautifully sculpted bridge leading up to the impressive building hand in hand. 

“Well with it being so close to the Vatican, I thought ‘Why not?’ , and I know how much my Baby appreciates her art and history,” he smiled.

Taking his words from earlier to hear, you thanked him with just a kiss on the cheek.

Jack insisted the two of you could walk back to your hotel by the time you were kicked out of the castle at closing time. 

‘Just a forty minute walk’ he promised.

You pouted at him, shaking your head no.  

“My feet are killing me Jack,” you whined. 

“Won't it be romantic though Baby?” He asked, trying to convince you.“Walking through the streets of Rome at night? Just the two of us?” 

 It did sound nice, in theory, but the sky was clouded over, your feet hurt, the ground was covered in slush and it was starting to seep into your supposedly waterproof boots. 

“My toes are going numb and it’s freezing Jack!” 

“But Baby-”

“Daddy,” you sniveled, trying to appeal to his dominant, caring role over you. You wrapped your arms around yourself to block out the cold as the temperature dropped further. It was bearable in the day, sunlight and warm clothes enough to keep you reasonably warm. But you weren't dressed with the expectation of being outdoors too long, and as the snow began to fall you pulled yourself to his chest, snuggling into his warmth. 

“Please Daddy, I don't want to walk like this.” 

He sighed and wrapped an arm around you, caving to his instincts to care for you. 

“Alright then, let me call a cab Honey Bee,” he relented, pulling out his phone. 

You groaned when you made your way into the hotel room, throwing the keycard on the table and collapsing by the door , tearing off your boots and letting your soaked, numb toes free. 

Jack chuckled at your dramatic behaviour, not removing any of his gear much to your confusion. 

“There’s a few more presents on the bed for you,” he smiled, heat in his eyes and flashing his canines at you as he crouched down in front of you, stroking your cheek. “Want you to go in there and put them on-” 

“Jack, my feet are too sore for any heels toni-”

“No heels, Honey Bee,” he said, his tone and use of your moniker a clear warning for you to fall in line. “You’ll like it, I promise. Now go open your presents and get dressed while I go pick up dinner.” 

He stood up as you nodded and took his hand when he offered it, helping you up and grabbing the keycard from where you discarded it.

“Be back soon Baby,” he smiled as he opened the door and left. 

Alone, you padded into the bedroom, your feet grateful for the plush carpet as you made your way over to the bed. 

Laid out across the sheets was a beautiful little pair of pink and black satin sleep shorts, a matching bralette, a cute pair of pink fluffy bunny slippers, and a long fuzzy pink gown. You ran your fingers over the material of them all, amazed at how soft they all were. 

Atop your outfit for the night was another folded up note. You picked it up carefully and opened it up, greeted by Jack’s familiar scrawl once again. 

“Day two of seven, I know your feet must be real sore today Baby, I hope a relaxing evening with Daddy makes up for it. Get dressed and go pick out a movie out in the livin room for me.  Happy Valentine’s Week Sugar,  Love Jack” 

You softened, reading his words, again as you folded the note back up and began redressing. 

The satin felt even smoother as it covered your skin, and the fuzzy robe and slippers helped warm you up after your cold trip back to your suite. 

Once dressed you wandered out into the living area,  delighted to see the couch covered in soft blankets and pillows, a gift hamper sat on the coffee table containing sweets, a bottle of wine, glasses and some foot lotion. Your heart warmed at the thoughtfulness of it all and how intimately comfortable it was.

As you snuggled under one of the blankets and flicked on the TV, scrolling through movie options you heard the keycard beep and the door unlock. 

“Back Darlin!” Jack called from the entranceway , you heard him put something down and head to the bedroom. 

He joined you a few minutes later, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips and his trademark stetson, carrying a large pizza box. 

You smiled and bit your lip, admiring his little tummy that you loved so much.

He placed the box on the coffee table and snuggled under the blanket with you. 

“Pick something out Baby?” He asked, one arm over the back of the couch and other hand wandering up your thigh under your robe and resting there. 

“I think so,” you hummed, relaxing back into his embrace and warmth, head resting on his shoulder. “Sci-Fi movie by the looks of it.” 

“Prospect?” Jack questioned. “Don’t usually sound like our kinda thing Darlin.” 

“Yeah, but one of the actors caught my eye in the preview clips,” you giggled. “He looks like you Daddy.” 

He quirked his eyebrow at you and gave you a shrug, letting you click play as he pulled the pizza and wine over for you to share. 

You almost choked on your pizza when the actor showed up and Jack exclaimed in annoyance that he looked nothing like him. 

“What are you talking about?” You laughed. “He could be your twin!” 

“I know for a fact my Mamma only gave birth to one Daniels boy thank you very much!” He proclaimed. 

You giggled hysterically, curling into him, trying not to knock the pizza box onto the floor. 

“He’s just you with more scruff!” You gasped for breath between your laughter. “Listen to him he’s even got a southern accent too!” 

“I resent being compared to a scruffy, sweaty, bastard space man who talks so damn weird Darlin!” 

You covered your mouth, biting back a sassy comment about the ‘talks weird’ comment and tried to compose yourself. 

“How can you not see it?” You asked when you finally calmed down. “The similarities are scary.”

The two of you eventually agreed to disagree as you finished your pizza and wine and moved on to a few after dinner chocolates from the hamper. 

Jack rubbed your feet with the lotion as you lay on the couch sideways, easing the tension and soreness from your feet in his lap as the movie went on. You melted to his touch, unwinding from the long day on your feet. 

You had taken quite a liking to the southern spaceman with the silver tongue, much to Jack's growing annoyance, he grumbled as you cooed at the man on screen.

But as irritated as he was, he pulled you to his side in comfort as you watched your little crush have his arm amputated, hiding your face in Jack’s chest throughout the difficult scene. 

“Poor Ezra,” you murmured when the scene was over. 

Jack rolled his eyes and kissed the crown of your head. “I don’t know what you see in him Darlin.” 

“He’s your scoundrel, space-cowboy twin Jack. What’s not to like?” 

“Think you need your eyes checked Darlin. I might actually be bothered ‘bout your little infatuation if you didn’t insist so damn hard that he looked like me.” 

You giggled and settled down again against his bare chest.

“Hmm...”

“What are you hmming about over there?”

“You’d look good with a little blonde patch.”

“Shut up.”

When the credits rolled Jack switched off the TV, shrouding the room in darkness and stood up, gently pulling you up to your feet beside him. You were tired after such a long day, and the movie and snuggles afterwards only made you more tired.

He rested his hands on your hips and gave you a tender, soft kiss. 

“You like your new jammies Baby?” He asked, smiling when you nodded. “Yeah? You look so dang cute in them.” 

He nuzzled his nose against yours. 

“Is my Baby too tired tonight? Or do you want to have some playtime with Daddy before bed?”

You whined in response, resting your hands on his chest. 

“I always want to play with you Daddy.” 

“Oh I know you do Baby, but Daddy thinks you need your rest. Bed time for you I think.” 

“I don’t want to go to bed Daddy.” 

“Think you’re awake enough for it Honey Bee?” he asked, gently shoving your new robe off of your shoulders and onto the floor. 

“Yes,” you nodded. 

“Prove it,” he rasped, firmly pushing you to your knees in front of the couch and pulling his sweats down enough for his balls and hardening cock to hook over them. 

You licked your lips and looked up at him, taking him in your hand at the base. His eyes burned into yours as you opened your mouth and began kitten licking at his tip, circling your tongue around him.

You kissed him, from base to tip, worshipping his cock. 

He moaned at your teasing little touches and you felt him twitch in your hand, hardening slowly under your touch. 

‘That's it Baby, Get Daddy nice and hard,” he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back to lose himself to the feeling of you coaxing his cock.

You felt the crotch of your sleep shorts become wet, aroused by his raspy voice and lewd moans. But you kept your hands where they were, on his thigh and cock, knowing if you touched yourself without permission his ‘playtime’ with you would become a (delicious) punishment. 

You relaxed your jaw and took him into your mouth, letting your tongue run along the underside of his length as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper into your mouth. 

He let out a loud guttural moan, hands cupping your head to keep you in place. 

“Hmmmmm fuck Baby!” He spat, looking back down at you and gently thrusting his hips into your face, careful not to choke you. “You’ve gotten so good at that! Can take me so well now can’t cha? Almost all the way!” 

He rocked into you slowly, now fully erect in your mouth, you concentrated on breathing through your nose as he pushed himself deeper with each thrust. 

You had succeeded in taking him easier than when you first had gotten together, but it was still a struggle to truly deepthroat him and supress your gag reflex, so far you had never managed to take him all in before you backed out. You kept your hand on his thigh, ready to tap out when needed. 

Your eyes never left his face, and his never left your lips, watching as inch by inch his cock went further into your mouth. 

“Breathe Baby,” he encouraged, hungrily watching his spit covered cock push and pull in and out of you. “If you can take me all the way in tonight Baby, I’ll give you a big reward.” 

You mewled around him, excited by his promise of a reward. He always delivered on those promises in a spectacular way. 

You took a deep breath through your nose and relaxed your throat as best you could, successfully taking him further, your jaw hurt and your throat protested as he pushed in even deeper. 

Your eyes watered as your lips finally met the groomed hair at his base. You blinked up at him, waiting for approval and praise for having taken him all the way for the first time triumphantly.

“Hnnng! Fuck! Good girl! Good Girl!” he panted, watching you, transfixed on the way his cock looked shoved all the way down your throat. “Perfect, warm wet little mouth fuck!” 

He reached down cautiously, fingers tracing over your neck gently, feeling the bulge in your throat. You whined, feeling light headed as he gripped your neck and squeezed lightly, he gave an experimental thrust, even with the awkward angle and groaned at the feeling of his own hand squeezing your throat tighter around him. 

“Oh fuck Honey Bee I’m so deep,” he moaned, squeezing tighter, making you more light headed. “Doin such a good job, you need to tap out Sugar?” 

You shook your head no as best you could, head swimming and body buzzing as he chokes you with his hand and cock. 

“Can feel my fat cock moving inside you Baby, so damn hot, making me even fucking harder.” 

He kept thrusting into your throat slowly, careful to not actually choke you. You were getting a little high from the lack of oxygen, far more aroused by it than you ever thought you could be. You only tapped out when black dots started to swim in your vision. 

Jack pulled free without hesitation, crouching in front of you to check you were alright as the obstruction in your throat was gone and your lungs heaved in oxygen. 

You gulped down air hungrily as Jack kissed your face in praise. 

 “Did so well baby, so proud of you, you took me all the way,” he murmured, nose nuzzling along your hairline. He waited for you to be ready to continue , and when your breathing had calmed and you gave him a nod to continue, he kissed your forehead, stood up and pulled you to your feet with him. 

“As promised, my little girl deserves her reward,” he growled, nodding over to an armchair by the sliding door. “Go sit,” he ordered softly. 

You scrambled to comply, anticipating your reward with glee. 

He sauntered over, discarding his stetson on the coffee table before kneeling down in front of you, hooking his fingers into your sleep shorts. 

“Up,” he gently instructed, pulling them down your legs as you lifted your hips for him.

He brought the shorts up to his face and inhaled your scent, licking up the crotch of them to taste the juices that soaked them. 

“My baby tastes so good,” he praised, discarding the shorts over his shoulder. “Spread ‘em wide for me Sugar,” he said, gently coaxing your leg apart and licking his lips. 

He didn’t tease, intent on giving you your much deserved reward as he drank you down and shoved his tongue deep into your dripping hole. 

Your back arched, eyes closed and thighs shook, he pulled them over his shoulders to give himself more room, his strong arms wrapped around your thighs to hold them still.

You whimpered in delight, gripping his hair and pulling him deeper, his eyes cut up at you, letting you know that at any other time, an action would not be tolerated, and he would have you reprimanded for being greedy. 

But this was your reward, you deserved it. 

Jack did not hide his messy noises as he ate you out like a man starved, wet smacks of his lips on your lower lips, the sound of his skin coming into contact with your dripping thighs, his moans and your sounds of pleasure filled the room. 

You gasped when you felt a thick finger prod at your hole, pushing up into you beside his tongue. Your head snapped down to watch as he slowly pumped his finger into you, his tongue began lapping up your folds until he reached your clit, suckling on it gently. 

“Daddy!” You whimpered, pushing your hips up further into his face. 

He gave you a cocky grin as a second finger joined the first, stretching you out so perfectly, his fingers were so much thicker than yours, fuck you loved his fingers so much, and he knew just where to stroke to make your body sing. In such a short time he had learnt your body better than you ever had. 

“My Baby wants to cum?” He asked, running his tongue over your folds again. 

“Yes, please Daddy,” you pleaded. 

“Daddy prefers when you’re patient Baby. But you earned it tonight,” he growled, standing up with his fingers still inside you. Your legs dropped from his shoulders as he leant over you to nibble at your ear, you felt your juices that still coating his jaw as his skin met yours.

He abandoned his slow pumps of his hand, fucking you hard and fast with his skilled fingers. You keened under him, writhing at the sudden change. 

“Look outside that window Baby,” he ordered in your ear hotly. “There's still people out and about, all they have to do is look up here, and they’d see you getting fucked by my hand.” 

You felt your core clench around his fingers at his words, a wave of your arousal flooding out, soaking his hand. 

“You like that idea Sugar? You like the idea of some stranger seeing my fingers buried in this pussy?”

You whimpered and tried to thrust up into his hand. 

“Answer the question!” He growled.

“Y-Yes Daddy!” You cried, panting hard as you felt your pleasure building. 

“Yeah? You get off on the idea of someone else seeing you? Seeing what’s mine?”

He sucked a mark into your neck, hoping it would show tomorrow, his secret little claim. 

“Want everyone to see you? Like some kind of common whore? You’re mine Baby, don’t you forget that.” 

“T-that's what i want them to see!” You whined, racing towards the edge, hoping he wouldn’t deny you as he often did to tease. “I want them to see who-who I belong to!”

He growled in approval. 

“Yeah? What else Baby?” He asked, encouraging your line of thought. 

“W-want them to see...That you’re- you’re the only one who can make me cum, that you’re the only one good enough!” 

“Oh Baby you sure know what to say to stroke your Daddy’s ego,” he hummed in pride. “Go on then, show them, show anyone watching how hard Daddy makes you cum.” 

You were already well on your way to your pleasure when he gave you permission to cum, but he helped you along by diving down and sucking hard on your clit. 

Your back arched further as you screamed out his name, your walls clenching hard over his furious fingers, as they attacked that sweet deep spot inside you on a mission. 

It hurt how powerful your orgasm was, how hard his fingers fucked you through it. And as it washed over you you were ready for him to pull out, for him to let you come down from your high, but his fingers did not slow. 

You mewled, sensitive and sore from your first orgasm as you felt him forcing your body towards a second one already. 

“D-Daddy, too- too much!” You whined, wriggling in his grasp. 

“Yeah?” he asked, his teasing tone told you he didn’t believe you, he moved his head away from your clit to look you in the eyes, speeding up his fingers. “What’s your color then?”

Your hips began thrusting up to meet his hand again. 

“Color Baby?” He reminded. 

“Green,�� bucking up hard now into his hand to chase your fast approaching second high. 

“Thought so,” he hummed, taking your nipple into his mouth through your bralette, gently sucking on it and tugging it with his teeth. 

When he had soaked the fabric and thoroughly teased you he released it.

“You’re going to cum again for me, that's your reward. Daddys going to make you cum so hard your pretty little pussy will be ruined tomorrow.” 

You sobbed under him, anticipating how tantalizingly sore you would be with great delight. 

“Come on, be a good little girl for me and cum,” he cooed, grabbing your jaw with his free hand to make you look at him, his face only inches away from yours. 

“Cum for Daddy, and I’ll fuck you right up against that window for everyone to watch.” 

Your stomach flipped at the thought and your core tightened around his fingers again. 

“If it weren't so damn cold out there I’d fuck you right on that balcony, so the whole of Rome can hear your screams for me.” 

He brushed your clit with his thumb as the words fell from his mouth, pushing you over the edge for a second time. 

“That's it Baby, cum for Daddy,” he cooed softly, lips ghosting yours. “Squeezing my fingers so tight. Can't wait till my cocks all snug up in there, my favorite, perfect little hole.” 

His words made your second orgasm just as powerful as the first, you shook hard in your chair and screamed loudly until your voice was hoarse. You tried to muffle the scream with your hands which, until now,  had been gripping the armrest for dear life ever since Jack removed himself from between your legs. 

He was having none of that however, grabbing your wrists in his hand and pulling them away from your face to hear your screams of pleasure. 

He coaxed your orgasm as long as he could, slowing his fingers but still thrusting them hard inside you. Dragging it out.

You shook from the aftershocks each time his fingers shoved up against your cervix, whimpering as your breathing struggled to return to normal and body tried to unwind. 

He pulled his fingers free from you, loving how your pussy tried to suck them back inside. You mewled at the loss despite how oversensitive you were. 

He held up his hand to inspect it, proudly displaying how drenched it was in your cum. 

“Look at that Baby, down past the wrist...You horny little thing,” he rasped, letting you watch as he wrapped his slick coated hand around his neglected cock, pumping it slowly, you could hear the wet pass of his hand with each pump.

“Stand up,” he ordered gently, not helping you as you stood up on shaky legs, struggling to comply as your legs threatened to give out underneath you.  

“Top needs to go too Honey Bee,” he instructed, watching you with predatory eyes as you raised your arms, taking the sexy little Bralette off and discarding it somewhere behind you. 

“Up against the window, arms up.” 

You wobbled over slowly, sighing as your body touched the cool glass. 

You felt so exposed up against the glass, despite the fact there was no one currently walking about outside, and there was no light in the living area now that the TV was off,  the only light source being the lights outside, lighting up the coliseum. 

You could see Jack's reflection in the glass as he came up behind you, stepping out of his sweats. You could hear him still pumping his cock with you slick.

Your back arched as he ran the tip of his cock over your dripping folds, making you gasp and shudder.

“Poor Baby, still so sensitive,” he teased, pushing you against the cold glass with his free hand, making your nipples tighten painfully at the chill. You wriggled slightly as he pushed his hips forward, tip entering your hole. 

“Shhhh Baby, Daddy needs his fair share too, needs to fuck your pussy,” he sighed, your tight wet heat slowly enveloped him as he slowly inched his hips forward. 

“Need to make you cum. One last time.” He emphasized the statement by snapping his hips forwards, filling you up completely as his hips slapped up against your ass. 

He gave your oversensetive body only a moment to adjust to the stretch before wrapping an arm around you and fucking into you hard and fast. His free arm grasped your neck, lightly choking you again as his cock hammered into you.

“Fuck, so wet baby. Your cums soaking me, dripping down Daddys balls,” he rasped into your ear.

Slap.  Slap.  Slap.  Slap.  Slap, filled the room as you were shoved up against the glass with each thrust. 

You cried at the delicious stretch, at how he made your tender, sore hole buzz with pleasure every time he shoved himself inside,  at how your body stung from the cold glass, and at the filth he rambled into your ear. 

“My perfect pussy, Daddy’s pretty little princess. Think about how anyone could walk past. Could see you,” he teased, turning you on more. “Stuffed full of my cock, wouldn’t be hard, this low down, just need to turn their head a lil bit, ‘s all it would take to see you.” 

You moaned at his words, tightening around him. 

“Fuck, squeezing me so tight,” he whispered in awe,thrusting harder into you. 

You closed your eyes and lost yourself to the delirium of being fucked by him, trying hard not to cum around him until he gave you permission. 

He didn’t like it when you came without his permission.

He chuckled darkly into your ear, slowing his thrusts down to teasing rolls of the hips. “There's someone now,” he rasped, watching someone walk by further down the street, you cracked your eyes open and could see just how close they were, close enough that if you called out with the window open, they would hear. 

“I don’t think they’ve spotted us. Let’s see if we can change that shall we?” He suggested with another dark laugh, letting go of your neck to grip your hips with both hands, making it much easier to thrust inside you and leaving nothing to silence your noises as he slammed into you again with the same speed as before. 

You shrieked, watching with wide eyes at the passer by, hoping he did not hear.

It was annoying just how arousing the idea of this stranger catching the two of you was. 

Before you could even stop yourself, you came around Jack’s cock without warning. No build up, no tensing, it hit you so suddenly you couldn’t have stopped yourself if you had tried. 

He growled angrily behind you, pausing his thrusts as you squeezed him hard, as your walls fluttered and tried to milk his cock. 

 There was no way you could hide what you just did, it may have snuck up on you fast but he felt it. Felt you squeeze him and shake in his grasp. 

“Did you just fucking cum Baby?” He snarled. “Without Daddy’s permission?” 

“I’m sorry!” you sobbed. “I didn’t mean to, it happened so fast!” 

“You got off  to the thought of some stranger seeing you, isn’t that right?” 

“Yes, Daddy,” you whimpered pathetically, not wanting to anger him further by lying to him.

“Such a filthy little slut,” he berated, rocking back into you. “If Daddy didn’t need to cum so bad I'd punish you right now. Throw you over my knee and remind you that Daddy owns your orgasms.” 

“I know Daddy! I’m sorry! So sorry!” 

“I believe you Baby, but that don't change the rules. Doesn’t mean you get away without some sort of punishment.” He licked the shell of your ear, nibbling at you lightly. 

“Tomorrow night, I really will destroy your pussy. I’ll hold you down and fuck you so hard, till you cum so many times you pass out, never letting up until you’re beggin me to. Daddy will choose how many times you cum, when you cum, and how hard you cum, to remind you your pleasure belongs to me.” 

You sniveled, panting as your breath fogged up the glass.

“Y-Yes Daddy,” you agreed. 

“Now stay still, Daddy gonna fill you up, get you nice and creamy.”

His rocks built back up to the harsh thrusts, reserving no gentleness for you as his grip would no doubt leave bruises on your hips the next day. 

He growls, the steady slap of his thrusts, bumping of glass and the blood rushing in your ear was all you could hear. 

And even though you had already cum three times, you could feel a fourth bubbling deep inside, warming you up. 

He pounded you against the glass. 

He cursed as his thrusts became frenzied, violent bucks up against your ass as he chased his release. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, here it comes!” He bellowed, digging his teeth into your shoulder and marking you hard. He groaned against your skin as his hot cum flooded you. You felt it fill you and warm you up, even if he didn’t let you cum again, you adored the sensation of him filling you up each time.

His thrusts slowed as you felt his seed begin to leak out around his length. 

You mewled at the loss of the orgasm you knew he wouldn’t have given you anyway. 

He pulled out slowly, releasing your shoulder and watching as his softening length fell from you. 

Your knees buckled, but Jack was quick to catch you before you fell and scoop you up into his arms. 

“There we go Baby,” he murmured, gently nosing at your temple. “Let's get you sorted.”

As usual Jack’s aftercare consisted of his soft praises as he tended to your physical needs. 

He washed you, tended to your marks, dressed you back into your new pajamas, and tucked you into bed. You drifted in and out of his care, only catching a few words here and there.  

“Good girl”, “Did so well,” and “So proud,” were the familiar praises you heard.

 He joined you under the warm blankets when he decided you had been thoroughly cared for, pulling you close to his chest to snuggle and murmur affections at you. You nuzzled deeper into his warmth, completely boneless and spent, listening to the gentle timbre of his voice as you drifted off. 

That night you dream about old castles and handsome southern princes.

credit to @talesfromtheguild​ for this little bit

“Hmm...” “What are you hmming about over there?” “You’d look good with a little blonde patch.” “Shut up.”

Tag list:

@thats-one-tender-foot​  @luminescentlily​ @nuttybeardetective​ @ishqinbbc​ @ben-is-a-hoe​ @calamity-queen​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @talesfromtheguild​ @the-arctic-violet​  @jeeperky​ @mando-amando​

[bopbopstyles]

Endlessly

RATING: R/smut, maximum angst levels unlocked

WORD COUNT: 7.2k

CATEGORIES: friends to lovers

a/n: this is part two to Residue, the camping!harry fic to which i owe so much. thank you for loving my little one shot, here’s what happens next! massive s/o to @havethetimeofyourstyles​ for beta reading, @bfharry​ for helping with concepts, and @meetmeinfleetwood​ for encouragement. much love xoxo

also i’m currently uploading a series called The Only Exception - i’d love for you to give it a read!

READ PART ONE HERE

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

He was gone so fast that when the door shut it was quiet, the sound defeaning in your ears. You slid down, back hitting the wood of the cabinets and the metal knobs, but you didn’t care. Your arms collapsed around your knees, tucking them into your chest, and the tears threatening to break free fell, coating your cheeks in your regret. More than anything you wished none of this had happened, that you hadn’t ever asked him who the song was about, that he had never told you it was you, they’re all about you, the words echoing in your brain. You wanted it to be like it was before, unrequited feelings that might have been confusing but never caused you to question your ability to be around Harry. They never got blurred, never reached into the category of dangerous to your heart.

And here you were, crying on your kitchen floor over the last boy you thought would ever hurt you.

or

Y/N and Harry are really good at being friends, but the something more? Not so much.

Waking up in Harry’s bed never quite got normal to you. You had slept together before the camping trip that changed everything, but not like this. Before, you never woke up naked between his sheets, his arm curled around you in a vice grip that you didn’t understand how he maintained overnight, and him, fully naked, lightly snoring on the pillow next to you. Last night he had called you at midnight on the way back from a bar with some friends you didn’t know, smashed and begging for you to come over. You made him add a stop to his Uber ride to pick you up from your apartment and the minute you’d entered the car he had his hands all over you. He had ended up with his head in your lap, your fingers running through his hair, in an attempt to get him to calm down. By the time you were at his house, he was asleep and you roused him.

You had had sex last night, albeit nothing crazy since Harry practically passed out the minute he came, sweaty chest on yours, but you let it slide. He was drunk and tired and you knew he’d make up for it in the morning. A month and a half had passed since the camping trip, and the nights when Harry called you had numbered more than the nights when he hadn’t. You called him just as much, though, so it wasn’t a one-way street. But the difference was that you knew what you were feeling.

Harry was a fucking brick wall, though.

Usually you were good at reading him—you’d known him for long enough, seen him at his most vulnerable, done just about everything together. But in the weeks since your relationship had changed, you couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Because something definitely was wrong, and you weren’t sure if it was your fault or not.

The morning after no one mentioned anything, and neither did you and Harry. Not sure what was going on, or how you wanted to handle it, you kept your distance. You didn’t touch him in any way other than as friends, no PDA, no obvious signs anything had changed. And unfortunately, it had set the tone for the weeks since then.

He had insisted that he didn’t want to tell your friends yet. At first, you were okay with it—you got to have Harry in the privacy of your homes, your moments together fully yours without any peering eyes. But then you’d go out together and you desperately wanted to dance with him, like really dance with him, and you couldn’t. You couldn’t give him a kiss outside a bar or cuddle in the taxi with your friends. And more than anything, it severely limited who you could talk to about what was going on, which meant you had all of these thoughts and fears swirling in your head and no one to talk to about.

And it wasn’t like you were unhappy. Harry was one of your best friends and the sex was fucking insane; you had never had someone touch you like he did. But you also knew that you weren’t your happiest. You wanted more and you didn’t know how to ask for it without ruining the shreds you did have with him. You didn’t know if you could go back to what it was before, the friendship and none of the intimacy you now shared. The thought of him being with someone else made you want to vomit, the idea of someone else’s hands on his skin made your blood boil.

But he was a brick wall and you didn’t know what he wanted. So you stayed in the dark, knowing that at some point things would probably end but you tried not to think about that time.

“Y/N?” You turned your head from where you had been staring at the ceiling, your thoughts moving a mile a minute. “Fuck, my head. I think I drank too much last night.”

“No shit Sherlock.” You sat up when he pulled his arm from your side, his hands running down his face to try and wake himself up.

“Wait--come back, missy.” He pressed a line of kisses up your spine, his favorite thing to do to get you back into bed with him for some shenanigans.

You looked at him. “Do you remember what happened last night?”

He furrowed his brow at you. “Called ya. Picked you up. We came back here, had sex.”

You rolled your eyes at him. Of course he didn’t. “You fell asleep on me literally the second after you came.”

“What?”

“I’m serious.” You pull away, pushing off the mattress. After that you just wanted to start the day, you didn’t have the energy for this.

He grabs your hand though, forcing you to turn and look at him. “I’m sorry I was too drunk to make you come, baby. Can we have a re-do?”

It would be so easy to say yes to him--he was damn hard to refuse when he gave you his puppy eyes. But you really didn’t want to give into him that easy. He should be forced to wait after last night. “Not really in the mood,” you tell him, holding fast. “And you smell like beer.”

“Y/N….” He said, drawing out your name, but you just shook your head.

“I’ll start some coffee, you go shower.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, nodding at you. “Kissy?”

It was moments like these that him not being all the way yours hurt the most. When he acted like he was yours, that you were his. Because you were his, much to your disappointment. You pecked a kiss to his lips, giggling against your will when he tugged you back for another. “Harry…”

“Fine!” Finally he released your neck from his hand and you got out of bed, pulling on a shirt of his from his drawers. He grabbed at your ass, barely visible under the edge of his shirt, and you swatted at him. He was so fucking cheeky in the morning.

In the kitchen, you started a pot of coffee, playing BBC1 on your phone as you watched the coffee drop into the pot. You could hear Harry’s shower upstairs, the subtle humming of a Top 40s song he’d been obsessed with lately. It was moments like this where the line between what you were doing (what were you even doing?) and dating blurred, and you didn’t really know how to clarify it.

You leaned against the counter, your cup in your hands, and stared at the countertop across from you. Last week he had fucked you on it, both tipsy after a night out, your clothes littered on the ground. You had always had memories in his house, but now they were a different sort. Somehow, in the past month and a half, the memories of his house were associated with places you’d had sex, places you had cuddled and kissed, places your clothes had laid. And the prospect of coming into his house and still having to see them but not being able to act on your feelings was one you didn’t like considering.

“Where’s mine?” You looked up and Harry stood in the doorway, shirtless except for his sweats. You nodded to the cup next to you and he smiled. His arms boxed around your body as he reached for it, leaning against the counter with his hip to look at you. “You okay?”

No. “Yeah, fine. I should go—got some errands to run today.”

“Oh. Uh, okay. Want a ride?”

You shook your head. Any more time with Harry would have you further in your head than you really wanted. “I’ll Uber. We’re going to that party at Nick’s tonight, right?”

He blew on his coffee, always scared of it singing his tongue. “Yeah. I can come grab you if you want.”

“No, I’ll take the tube. Thanks though.”

You knew he could tell something was wrong, but he didn’t push it thankfully. He just nodded and let you gather your belongings, waiting for you in the hall to let you out. He kissed your cheek and you reciprocated, stepping out into the warm summer air without a second glance.

//

The party was in full swing when you arrived, eyes panning immediately for Harry. Most of the other people coming were Nick’s coworkers, people you had met but didn’t exactly know, but Harry was your safety blanket. He was also always painfully on time, hating the idea of someone waiting for him and didn’t mind being the first to arrive. Knowing him, he was probably 15 minutes early.

You found him in the kitchen making a gin and tonic, speaking to who you thought was another DJ at Radio 1, Nick nowhere to be found but you weren’t surprised. He looked good, as usual, a white button up tucked into flared black pants, a pair of sunnies pushed up on his head and his rings glinting in the kitchen light. You painted his fingernails a few days ago a rosy pink and the color was still on, albeit a bit chipped from playing guitar and cooking, knowing him.

His eyes lit up at the sight of you, the reaction turning your gut. You were still feeling weird after this morning, a sense of uneasiness lingering despite all you had tried (a bath, a cry with your friend Jordan, a bowl of pasta). “Y/N!” You made your way over, accepting the arm he offered around your shoulders, and the drink he shoved into your hand. The gin and tonic he had just made—your favorite, something he knew well. “Y/N, this is Miles. Works with Nick. This is Nick and I’s friend Y/N.”

The word friend jolted you for a second, although it wasn’t anything new. He’d been introducing you like this for years, and had continued in the past month. There wasn’t ever a discussion about it—the consistency in what he called you. It just…never changed, and you didn’t bring it up. “Nice to meet you.”

You sat in the conversation for a bit longer, engaging where required to seem like an attentive member of the chat, but in reality your mind was focused on where Harry was brushing his fingers up and down your back, his hand having drifted from your shoulder. He did this sometimes—touched you when he knew no one could see, the two of your backs facing a wall. Usually it had your skin on fire, but tonight you didn’t want him touching you after calling you his friend. “Have you seen Nick?” You asked him, pulling away just enough so his hand dropped away.

“Uh, yeah, out in the back.” His gaze drifted over your face, trying to understand the change in pace, but you didn’t give him the time to analyze it.

You said goodbye to Miles and walk towards the back, pulling open the sliding door leading to the back patio. Nick was holding court, as usual, to a circle of people who were all laughing hysterically. Yet again, as usual. It was exactly what you wanted—something to entertain your mind, maybe even pick up your night. You had been thinking over last night constantly and you couldn’t put your finger on what it was that pissed you off so much, but it had and you couldn’t shake it. Slipping in between Annie Mac and another one of Nick’s friends who you didn’t know, Nick’s eyes caught yours and smiled, not pausing in his story he was telling about interviewing some celebrity.

Annie turned to you and asked about work, which you happily answered, enjoying having something to chat about. Eventually, Nick finished his story and the group dispersed, him making his way over to you and Annie.

“Did you find Haz?” He asked, giving you a peck on the temple like he always did. “He was lookin’ for you earlier.”

You nodded, lifting your glass. “Present from the bartender. He was talking to your coworker—Miles?”

“I’m going to go say hi,” Annie said, squeezing your elbow. “Talk later?”

“Love to,” you replied before she walked away, leaving you and Nick alone.

Nick gave you a hard look, one you knew well—it meant he was about to give you some truth, free of cost. “What’s wrong, Y/N? Look pissed off at someone.”

And he was correct, unsurprisingly. “I’m fine. Thanks though.” It’s not like you could tell Nick—he was specifically one of the people Harry and you hadn’t told.

“Bullshit. What’d Harry do?”

You twirled the cup in your palm. He always saw through your shit, every single time. “How’d you know it was Harry?”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “The first thing he asked when he got here was where you were and then watched the door like a hawk. Could tell somethin’ was up.”

“He was a dick,” you said, hoping that would cover the bases. It was the general idea, without specifics.

“Not surprised. What happened, love?”

Well you couldn’t exactly tell him that the two of you had sex and then Harry fell asleep before you came, forgot about it in the morning, and made you feel like shit without even realizing it, could you? “It’s nothing. Just need some time to stew in it.”

Nick eyed you, probably deciding whether to push or not. “Well, I’m always here to talk, you know that. Love you both to pieces but sometimes the two of you can be so thick.”

This time it was you who was confused. “What?”

“Fuck,” he mumbled, eyes falling to the ground. “I—nothing. Forget I said anything.”

Usually Nick was one for some gossip, but it seemed this wasn’t something he wanted to dig into, even though you were intrigued by his meaning. Had Harry said something to him? Or did he actually know what was going on, but chose not to say anything. “Ok. Well I’m going to go get another—want a refill?”

“Love one,” he told you, hand to your back. “Lead the way, mi’lady.”

//

You stood in the hall, pressing Confirm on your Uber ride, when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You knew who it was before you even turned around, Harry’s cologne permanently imprinted on your brain. The entire night you had tried to avoid him, not wanting to have to hear him introduce you as his friend all over again, but it seemed he had found you anyways.

“Heading out?”

You nodded and eyes fell to his lip, which he had bit slightly. “You too?”

“Was about to call a car. Want to share?”

Your was heading to your apartment, where you had a bottle of wine and a warm bath waiting for you. “I’m heading home.”

He ran a hand through his hair absentmindedly. “I—could I come over?”

The correct answer would’ve been no. Keep the distance you’d established, let your thoughts collect and calm before you put yourself in a situation you knew wouldn’t be good. But unfortunately, you had never been good at saying no to him. “Okay,” you told him, and changed the number of seats in the car from one to two.

He fiddled with his phone as you waited, trying to talk to you but your brain was working a mile a minute, trying to figure out what you wanted to do tonight. Did you want to do anything? You supposed you could just let him sleep on the couch. But would he be offended? Was this the path to the end of your friendship? The icy distance between you was so cold you tensed when he placed his hand to your back when the car pulled up, something you knew probably bothered him. You couldn’t help your body’s reaction, though.

At least you didn’t have to keep him busy in the car ride. The Uber driver recognized Harry immediately and asked him a slew of questions, all sweet ones, and asked for an autograph for his daughter who was eight and a huge fan. You just watched in silence, the interaction one you had seen time and time again, but this time it made you annoyed—you wanted to stay mad at Harry, but he made it so hard when he did shit like this.

The lock slid shut on your door and you toed off your sandals, your bag lying on the hall table and keys in the dish, letting Harry follow behind you to the kitchen. A neutral space, one without obvious seats that would require close proximity.

“Water?” You asked him pulling down a glass for yourself before grabbing the bottle of filtered water from your fridge.

“Yeah, thanks.” He rested against the counter opposite you, shirt unbuttoned one more button than it had been at the party. You didn’t know when he had done that, but the sight of chest, the tips of the swallows, made you turn away and pay attention to the task at hand.

Suddenly, his body was behind yours, breathing in your ear, inches away from you. It was consuming, the feeling of him close to you. Usually, you would twirl around and smash your lips together, probably happily let him have his way with you on the floor of your kitchen. This time, though, it made you falter, water jug hitting the countertop.

It was silent in your flat besides the faint sound of honks and sirens from the streets below, so Harry’s breath in your ear was all you heard. That and the sound of your own heartbeat, clattering in your chest. “Y/N.” Your name on his lips was a question, an obvious beg. “Talk to me, please.”

“Nothin’s wrong,” you said. You didn’t want to have this conversation, because you feared it would mean the end. The end of everything between you, and you didn’t want that.

“Bullshit. You’ve barely looked at me since this morning, ignored me at Nick’s, and I can see the wheels turning in your head. I did something, but I don’t know what, and I need you to talk to me.”

He needed you to talk to him? That set you off, the anger boiling inside of your chest, body whirling around to face him. “You want to know what’s up? Fine. You begged me to come over last night—begged—and then when I did, you fucked me and fell asleep, not a second thought as to me and what I needed. This morning you had no memory of it, acted like it was normal and completely fine. But me? Harry, I felt fucking used last night.” The word slapped him in the face, body flinching at its intention. But the minute it was out, it felt right. That’s how you felt.

“Fuck, Y/N, I didn’t know—“

You held up your hand, cutting him off. “But that’s not even it. And I know this might spell the end of us, but I cannot take the song and dance anymore, Harry. You introduced me tonight as your friend, meanwhile I’ve been in your bed nearly every night for the past month and a half.” He was staring at you, his words like whiplash, but you didn’t slow. You needed to get it out before you lost your nerve. “And I’m fucking done. If that’s all this is going to be—me warming your bed and making you coffee in the morning and pretending like nothing’s happening when we’re around our best friends, I’m done.”

Harry was quiet, eyes flickering between yours as your chest rose and fell, adrenaline pouring through your veins at your confession. When he finally broke the silence, his words were a broken record in your ears. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that, I thought we were fine—“

“Get out.” The words punched him in the gut and you didn’t care. It was past apologies and he knew it. You knew it and you weren’t going to stand for it anymore. “Get out, Harry. Get out of my apartment.” He didn’t move though, and the anger was coiling in your belly, the tears searing behind your eyes. “Get out!” You screamed at him, finally forcing him into action.

He was scrambling to grab his things, one last look at you before he was out of your place, the door slamming shut behind him.

He was gone so fast that when the door shut it was quiet, the sound defeaning in your ears. You slid down, back hitting the wood of the cabinets and the metal knobs, but you didn’t care. Your arms collapsed around your knees, tucking them into your chest, and the tears threatening to break free fell, coating your cheeks in your regret. More than anything you wished none of this had happened, that you hadn’t ever asked him who the song was about, that he had never told you it was you, they’re all about you, the words echoing in your brain. You wanted it to be like it was before, unrequited feelings that might have been confusing but never caused you to question your ability to be around Harry. They never got blurred, never reached into the category of dangerous to your heart.

And here you were, crying on your kitchen floor over the last boy you thought would ever hurt you.

//

Harry knew he was an idiot, but that wasn’t news. In most of his relationships he had been an idiot in some way or an another, but this? This was the worst it had ever been. It had taken every ounce of his soul for him to tell you the truth of how he felt, and not he had dug himself into a hole of avoidance with the girl he loved.

It was true.

He loved you.

He had told you before, but not since that first time. The words had been caught in his throat and he hated that. Because his feelings hadn’t changed, only grown. It drove him crazy that it had taken you yelling at him to get out of your apartment, him hurting you (and himself) tor realize it, but at least he finally had.

It had settled for him when Camille texted him a few days after your fight. He was pissed off and sad, alternating between running miles on his treadmill, trying to outrun his own thoughts, and lying in bed watching Love Island re-runs because you loved watching it and it made him think of you. It was unhealthy and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop. And then Camille texted him that she was in town and thought of him, and the part of him that still wondered if they would ever get back together overpowered the part of him that was smart, and he replied.

They ended up talking that night over a glass of wine in a tiny bar they used to frequent when they were together and in London, and when he looked at her, he didn’t feel anything. The only thing he could think about was you, about how you had held him when he cried and helped him piece himself back together, and here he was in front of Camille and felt nothing. You would probably be proud of him in a way, but at the same time, the reason he wasn’t feeling anything for Camille was because his emotions were yours. His heart belonged to you. And he told Camille because he had to tell someone, and she listened, surprisingly. Told he was an asshole, which was something he frequently had told himself over the past few days, and to get over himself and talk to you.

And he had every intention to. He kept picking up the phone to call you, opening your contact and hovering over the message button, but then he realized he didn’t know what to say. Not because he didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know what not to say. He had so many things he wanted to say there was no way to write you a text or call you and most likely leave a voicemail. He had enough to fill an entire notebook with, write an album of songs, a symphony even, of his feelings and thoughts about you.

Because he was in love with you. Hopelessly, endlessly, in love with you.

He felt it in the very depths of his soul and he never wanted to forget it. He didn’t want to get over you. He didn’t want to have to stop talking to you, to scrub the memories of you from his home, which were everywhere he looked. To wash his clothes that you wore so many times that the scent of you finally left them, to return your belongings that had ended up in his closets and counters. To put the photos of the two of you in a box and hide them, to stop buying your favorite wine at Tesco, to avoid your favorite bars and restaurants so he didn’t have to see you. To wonder if you’d be at a party and if he should go, because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

He didn’t want to do any of that. He wanted to love you, to bask in the feeling that came over him when he saw you, to linger there and let himself burn in the sunlight that was you. Anne told him he was a hopeless romantic, but for you, he had all the hope in the world because he could see you being together forever. And to lose you…the thought was too much for him to bear.

All of that brought him to your door, the rain coming down in sheets around him, his shirt and pants soaked through, shoes squeaking on the stairs as he climbed to your apartment. He knew the building code by heart, not even having to ring your apartment to get inside, which he was happy for. He wanted one less place for you to refuse him entry. He pushed his hair back, the droplets flickering over his skin, and wondered what he looked like right now. Probably a bit on the crazy side.

But that was okay with him, because he was. Crazy for you.

He stopped in front of your door, 2A and the knocker staring back at him, mocking him, wondering if he’d have the guts to do it. Your face popped into his brain, and he wondered what you were going to say. He had a speech prepared—one he had figured out as he drove here, mulling over the words and their meaning, over analyzing it all to make sure he said exactly what he wanted because if he got in the door he couldn’t risk fucking it up again. Before he could stop himself, he rapped the knocker on your door, stepping back and taking a deep breath.

The wait was the worst part. The wondering if you would open the door at all. He knew you were home—saw your lights on from the street and your bike locked up outside. He played with the hem of his tour tank top, trying to squeeze out the water in the material.

And then all of a sudden he heard the hinges of the door squeak and you were standing there in shorts and an oversized shirt, glasses on your nose and hair up in a ponytail. It made his heart ache to see you after so many days apart, especially days spent thinking of nothing but you.

“You’re wet,” you said bluntly, taking in his appearance.

“Raining out,” he replied, eyes fluttering over your face, trying to take in your demeanor. You seemed on edge, which was understandable, but not angry. Exhausted, maybe, judging from the look in your eyes. “Can I come in? I—I need to tell you something.”

He didn’t you wanted to talk, so he just said tell you something. Because if that’s all it was, that’s all it was, but at least then he’d have been open and honest with you. Laid it all out there, bare and vulnerable. “Yeah,” you said after a beat, opening the door wide enough for him to slip through before shutting it behind him, sliding the chain in the lock.

Standing in your apartment was surreal to him, the rugs and warm lights and books scattered on every surface possible, a big piece of art he’d given you for your birthday last year over the sofa, the faint smell of cinnamon. You stress baked, just like him. He wondered it you did cinnamon rolls, one of your favorite things. His eyes flickered back to you, leaning against the back of your couch and staring at him, waiting for him to speak. He took one step forward so he was farther into your place, and then opened his mouth, the speech he had prepared flowing easily from his throat.

“I love you,” he started, the catch in your breath making his heart skip a beat. “I know I told you on the trip, but I haven’t said it since, and I think for the same reason as why I didn’t call you my girlfriend. I think my brain had built up for so long what it would be like to be with you that when it actually happened I didn’t know what to do. How to be your boyfriend, how to date you, how to be with you like I’d always thought. So I just reverted to what I knew, but with the added sex.

“And that wasn’t fair to either of us. It eroded all the things I love about our relationship—how we talk about everything, how honest we are. Made me feel like we were pretending in front of each other, but I didn’t know how to stop it after it had been happening for so long, you know? And the prospect of fucking it all up and losing you was worse than letting the in-between thing just stretch out. So I just didn’t say anything, even though it was eating away at me.

“I thought you were fine with it, actually. You never said anything, so I thought we were fine, generally speaking. But I know now that was bullshit not only because you told me, but because how could you have been fine with it? I had told you I loved you, confessed all these feelings, and then told you I wanted to keep it all a secret because I couldn’t get my own brain in order. I think that I thought if we told people it would be real, and it being real frightened me to bits.”

He ran a hand through his hair, the droplets coating his rings. “I know that all probably makes no sense to you, but what I’m trying to say, Y/N, is that I love you. I haven’t stopped loving you.” He laughed nervously, his heart seizing. “I don’t know how to not love you. And I don’t want to stop—I can’t lose you, not again. I need you, even though I know I’ve been shit to you these past weeks. So I’m here and I’m begging you to forgive me, to let us try this out properly. To be my girlfriend, tell all of our friends and family, do it for real this time.”

The silence stretched between them for a second, then two. His eyes stayed on yours, gaze locked as you processed his words. And just when he was about to open his mouth again, to tell you he would leave, you were crossing the distance between them and your lips were on his, an answer to his question.

Kissing you was like returning to an old friend. It felt right in every part of his body, the way you leaned into him, the way you curled your fingers through his hair and touched him, hands on his chest. His lips chased yours, desperate for anything you would give him, a stray dog begging for scraps. His hands wrapped around your waist, holding you close, sighing at the feeling of your warm skin on his.

Your lips parted and returned, lovers in a well-rehearsed dance. A song they knew all the words to.

Your hands pulled his wet t-shirt over his head and he tugged at your now damp one, kisses to the rise of your breasts that made you arch into him and gasp. Your sounds were music to his ears, a chorus he had been dying to hear again. You stumbled over one another’s feet as he moved you to your bedroom, desperate to see all of you. He knew you felt the same from how you pulled at his hands, tugging him into your room and flipping on the light by your bedside, the soft glow allowing him to see shadows of your bodies on the walls.

“Y/N,” he breathed against your neck, “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you replied, tugging hips to yours and rolling against them sinfully. “Need you.”

That had him moving faster than he thought possible. He shucked off his pants, then yours, leaving you in a pair of blue cotton underwear that he ripped without a second thought. You yelped but he didn’t care, he’d buy you another he whispered to you, a promise he had no intention of breaking. He’d buy you the world, no matter the price.

Your hands pressed against his chest, forcing him onto the bed, body bouncing. Quickly he clamored back, gaining more space for the two of you and you followed, a lion on the hunt. You knees pressed to either side of his hips and rolled softly, a groan flying from both of your mouths before they met again.

He pulled at the clasp of your bra, needing to see you bare for him and it was a sight he had missed desperately. Leaning up, hands holding your chest in place, he rolled your nipple into his mouth, a cry falling from your lips that spelled his name. “Fuck,” he murmured into your skin as you rocked over him, bare clit on his dick. “Can feel how wet you are, baby.”

“All for you,” you said, your words a whimper that had him groaning and suckling on your nipple immediately. He loved every moment with you, but these ones were near the top. When he had the raw, unfiltered you, witnessing your body respond to every thing he offered you, taking and taking and taking. And he didn’t mind. You had given him the opportunity to love you and that was enough for him.

His hand found its way down your body, a torturing path that had your squirming in his arms, before his fingers brushed your clit. You arched into him, breasts flushed with his chest, head lolling into the crook of his neck. He played you like an instrument he knew by heart, knowing exactly what you needed. A slow circle, then fast swipes clockwise, a pinch to your clit. A teasing brush to your slit, his name on your lips before he pulled you into him again. He got distracted with your lips, but you didn’t seem to mind. You found your own pleasure, rolling your hips over him repeatedly, the wetness of you driving him insane.

The feeling of you over him, completely bare, was enough for him to come right there and then.

“Love,” he said, throat gravelly as he spoke. “I—I’m going to come if you keep that up and I want you to come before I fuck you.”

But you shook your head, lips pressing into his jaw, where a brush of stubble had grown over the past few days. He knew you liked it, how it felt against your skin, something to remember him by. “I just want you,” you told him, eyes meeting his. “Want to come with you.”

His head dropped back because those words brought him to the brink. “You’re a dream,” he whispered, pulling you down with him before rolling you over. “This okay—like this?”

You nodded, pushing his wet hair back so he could see you better. “I like it like this. Know it’s simple, but I can see you.”

He knew exactly what you meant. “Me too.” Without meaning to, he shifted his hips and his tip brushed against your clit, a wanton moan exploding from your chest into your bedroom. “Ready, baby? Ready for me to show me how much I love you?”

Your arms locked around his neck and you nodded, capturing his lips in yours again. “Show me everything,” you whimpered when he brushed against you again, teasing both of you. “Everything, Harry.”

His name on your lips did it. Reaching a hand down, he found his dick and he moved so he could brush your slit, your head tipping back. “Look at me,” he said, and you looked back at him, chest rising and falling. And with that, he pushed in slowly, letting your walls capture every inch of him.

Watching you when he pushed into you was one of his favorite things. Could take photos of your face like that for hours, put them in an art gallery because it was art in its finest form. “Oh my god,” you panted, hands scrambling at his back, his shoulder blades, searching for purchase. When you found it, your fingernails dug into his skin and he hissed, loving that he would have marks of you on him tomorrow.

With that, he pulled out and then back in, watching you as your jaw dropped open. “Feel me, baby? Am I deep for you?” The words tumbled from him without a thought. Somehow having sex with you just made his brain melt away—he wasn’t like this with other people, but with you, he wanted to tell you everything. Wanted you to know every thought on his brain.

He rested his head on your chest, your hands drifting from his back to his scalp, tugging on the hair and a moan ripping through his body. His hands rested next to your shoulders, helping him find strength to push in and out of you at a rhythm that was both not enough and everything all at once. “Need more,” you moaned. “Please, H.”

Your wish was his command. He drew back before slamming into you, hips meeting yours with a smack that had your legs coming up around his waist for better access. Hands met skin as you held on, your body moving up and down on the duvet  as he pushed into you. His lips missed your skin, so he rectified it with a nip at your collarbone, sucking into your skin harshly, leaving a mark for tomorrow that he would top up in the morning. It would be like a tattoo on your skin, reminding the world that you were his. Finally.

“So deep.” Your words made him see stars. He was close already, he was close before even entered you, but the feeling of being so deep inside of you was making him teeter dangerously on the edge.

You yelped when he pressed deeper, brushing against the spot he knew you loved. “Never gonna make you made ever again,” he said, words a jumbled mess in his brain. He could feel the sweat between your bodies and he loved how your skin stuck to each other, not wanting to part. “Promise, Y/N. You don’t deserve that.”

“Then keep fucking me and make me cum, maybe I won’t be mad anymore,” you said and your words made him slam into you.

“Yeah? Want me to make you come?” He wanted to you see you finish.  He knew you were taunting him but he didn’t care, it made him work harder for your orgasm, it a prize he desperately needed tonight. “Gonna make you come baby, promise. Need it. Need to feel you squeeze around me, fuck you’re so good, need to feel you come for me. That’s all I want, love. All I want is you.”

You pulled his head, lips meeting and he rocked into you, teeth gnashing as he brought you closer to your release. He caught your moans in his mouth and sent them right back, a tinge of his own mixed in. Lips fought for dominance as he cradled your head in his arms, holding you tight to his body. He wanted to have you close when you came, wanted to feel you shake against him.

When you did, it was tidal wave that he felt before he heard it. He felt you clamp down around him, your spine arch. Then, he heard the shrieks from your mouth, the ones made up of purely his name, Harry a chant on your lips. It had him coming to his own release immediately, the feeling and sight of you finishing around him, eyes wide and staring into his, knowing he loved watching you. He slammed into you, hips stuttering as he shot into you, ropes of come painting your walls that had goosebumps covering his skin as he shivered.

It took him a few beats to regain his breath and when he did, you were running your fingers down his spine. He loved it when you did it, the feeling of you impossibly close in more ways than one.

“I love you,” you said, voice hoarse in his ears before pressing a kiss to his nose. “Endlessly.” You pulled him flush on your skin, forcing him to let go and let you shoulder his weight which he knew you didn’t mind. Quite liked it actually.

His fingers wove through the strands of your hair scattered on the bed that had broken from of your ponytail. “I love you too.”

“We’re going to do this, huh?” You asked him and he chuckled.

“Yeah,” he told you and you giggled in his ear. Giggled. He loved that sound, the childish glee in your voice. “Want to show you off, show everyone you’re mine.”

He went to pull out of you, but you held him fast. “Can you just, stay here for a second?”

His gaze shifted to your eyes and he nodded. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.” He rolled slowly, taking you with him and keeping himself sheathed inside of you. It felt impossibly close, like he was inside of your skin, and it was everything he needed. After being apart from you for days, and even before that not having you like this—your heart, mind, soul—it was a euphoric feeling.

“I’ve got cinnamon rolls for the morning,” you said out of nowhere.

He brushed a kiss to your shoulder and felt you smile against his skin. “One of the many reasons that I love you.” You nuzzled into his neck and he sighed.

He was home.

talk to me about Residue here | masterlist here

[littlemisslipbalm]

“You Get Me” Pt. 3 (famous!y/n x harry)

Aka “Kissy” 🥺

honestly its really just domestic harry bahaha and I added that they have a slight age gap ?but seriously I hope y’all enjoy the third and final installment of my first ever writings -  a little miniseries if you will. I loved writing this part sm, probably my favorite part yet. I linked a spotify playlist that was some inspo (I literally listened to your summer dream on repeat for one part that I wrote, that song is so beautiful) anyways - not really proofread and I tried to break it up more so it was less big chunks to read formatting wise

here’s part 3! read: part 1 | part 2

word count: 4.0k  | warnings: makeout sesh, shirtless harry!, nothing graphic tho (I think!)

tag list : @marauderswhisperer, @morgannope, @daddystevee, @kthemarsian, @bi-andready-tocry

playlist for the inspo✨

-

One Week Later

“Hey, Har...change of plans!” you exclaimed as you peaked through a door in Harry’s house.

You’d hung out together at your apartment once since your phone retrieval visit and the two of you had been texting constantly. You loved Harry’s company and Harry couldn’t get enough of you. Harry had called you late last night, ‘Want t’take you out tomorrow, love.’ his voice was groggy as if he was about to fall asleep. You’d instantly agreed and drove over to his house the next day. He was leaving back to London on Saturday, so it was your last day to see him for awhile.

Inside the door you had just opened, a beautiful vintage convertible sat. You had found the garage. “You are so driving this,” you turned to see the man who held your entire heart in his hands walking up beside you. Harry reluctantly agreed and leaned down to kiss your cheek.

“Ready?” he questioned, holding up the soft blanket he had retrieved for your coastal picnic. You nodded, proudly displaying the little picnic basket you had packed full with food. Simultaneously the two of you reach for each other’s free hands, clasping them together and walking out to the car.

“I’m on aux, you can focus on the road,” you told Harry when both of you went for the cassette device that functioned to allow you to play music from your phone despite the age of the car. Harry loved how assertive you were even if it meant he didn’t always get his way. That was one of the reasons he liked you so much, your strength, your ability to hold your own in any situation, even with him, opposite of how a lot of people treated him in the industry in bids to get in his good graces. You were his match, so similar, yet so unique.  

The pair of you started out on the road. Harry wore a white t-shirt with a blue bee slogan,  purple trousers, and some clean white vans. His rings and pearl necklace wrapped up the look. His tattooed arms starkly contrasting the crisp white of his shirt. His eyes on the road were covered by large sunglasses, but his hair flew out behind him as the wind rushed over the car. You had chosen high waisted mom jean style denim shorts and a lavender femme top with a mesh white floral overlay, it had ties on the shoulders and it complimented your skin color perfect, tanned in from your life in the golden state. You too had your rings on and a silver necklace with your first initial hidden in the pendant. Even your clothes complemented each other.  

The first song to play through the speakers was Joni Mitchell’s “California.” You looked over to see Harry smile and you two began to sing along. You didn’t talk much on the ride, staying silent other than singing along when you pleased, but you always made sure not to overpower the actual song, you didn’t like to do that if the music was there for ambiance. Harry would speak up a little when passing various things, just simply pointing them out. Then, after the first notes of “California Dreamin’” came on Harry couldn’t help buy say, “Y/N, seriously?  S’not like I don’t love these songs, but please tell me you didn’t just search up ‘California’ and are playing tha’?” All you did was shush him and tell him this was one of your favorite songs before singing along.

Then, as the Mamas and the Papas voices began to fade out, Harry started again, “This next song’s title better not be fuckin’ California or somethin’ with-” but he stopped as the light quick notes of “Golden” came through the speakers, followed by his own voice. You grinned and gave his shoulder a little push. You had just gotten on the PCH and you remembered his mention of it being the quintessential coastal drive song a couple years ago so you had queued just in time.

A grin spreads onto his features that had been in slight exasperation at your antics previously and shakes his head at you, does a little finger shake vaguely in your direction, “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.”

You both burst out in song, practically yelling the first chorus, Harry taking little harmony parts that most wouldn’t even notice, but he notices them, he made them. You dance in your seat to the song, taking control of the background ‘da da da’s. Harry is in awe of how well your voice sounds with the track, when you sing along to the second verse, much more seriously than the first one you had screamed together. He glanced over at your moving figure that began to sway at the slowing of the song. You weren’t wearing sun glasses and you had your eyes closed, basking in the shining sun. You looked at peace, yet completely fulfilled and overjoyed. In that moment, Harry knew he wanted to keep making you feel the way you did right now every time you were together. The song ended and your playlist continued, random songs regarding California and the feeling you get with someone you care about - makes you feel sunkissed.

-

“You’re literally so corny,” Harry laughs to you when ‘California Girls’ by the Beach Boys came on. You throw side eyes at him, “What can I say, Brian Wilson knew, California girls are where it’s at,” you roll your lips into your mouth and then bite your bottom lip.

-

The drive continued with you giving a rousing rendition of ‘California Gurls’ with Harry as Katy Perry and you as Snoop Dogg as you had insisted. Harry even busted out some minimal dance moves while driving the car, honking the horn at the appropriate moment. You made Harry feel like he was 19 again.

Then, straight into ‘Canyon Moon,’ Harry really was in disbelief of the woman next to him. You got so into the “I’m goin’ home” part of the song. Harry said, “Really like tha’ one, I gather,” after it finished. It was your turn to look at him in disbelief, “It’s my favorite, Har, I remember listening to Fine Line the first time and loving it immediately. Still loved it even after everyone else barely talked about it. Deserved so much more, s’amazing.” You finished with a half smile slipping onto your face. Harry gave a quiet ‘thanks’ and returned the smile.

-

Harry was finally satisfied with where you had landed along the coast. There had been no set destination, just a plan to drive to a lookout for the picnic. Finding a small parking area, you two gathered your items and set out for the perfect spot. The California coast really is beautiful. You’d lived there your whole life, just further up north, moving down to Los Angeles when you started your music career. You ran ahead of Harry to seek out a little bluff you’d seen in the distance. “Oi!” Harry called, but didn’t run to catch up, he had taken the picnic basket and it had drinks that wouldn’t be great if they were all shaken up.

You were right, it was the perfect spot, a little ways up from the set path there was a flat surface on the edge of a cliff, it was safe, with wildflowers and tall grass around a more bare area. You layed out the large blanket, then stood and watched as Harry made his way to you. His hair was every which way due to the wind whipping through it during the car ride, you subconsciously ran your hands through your hair for that reason. He looks gorgeous, you thought.

When he arrived at your little patch, he sat down the basket and you threw your arms around his neck. You pulled yourself into him and basked in his glow, his warmth and scent. He held you and ran a hand through your hair. The pair of you could have silly fun, but you could also be extremely intimate. In these quiet moments you wished you could stop time and live here forever. To live in his arms would be a wonderful thing. “So happy right now, darling,” Harry whispered, the soft swish of grass and the distant crash of waves the only sounds he had to speak above. You said nothing, but pushed yourself even further into his body, a response in and of itself. In this moment, there was no one else, just you, Harry, and the beautiful nature you stood in. This moment was everything. And you didn’t want to set it free.

Eventually, the two of you parted and relaxed into the blanket. For once, neither of you played music, you talked and ate and listened to the ambient sounds of nature. The melodic waves carried the conversation, when neither of you felt the need to say words. After eating, you let Harry pop the bottle of champagne he had brought along, unbeknownst to you, nevertheless when you saw it you wanted to be the one to uncork it. Still, your protests fell on deaf ears. “Y’seem to be getting very used to getting everythin’ you want, huh? Already a spoiled princess after a couple months of fame,” Harry teased as he worked to open the bottle. You huffed at his teasing and your failed attempt to get the bottle from him, which had caused him to move off the blanket and have his shirt be stretched from you grabbing at the bottle and only getting fabric.

“Whatever, don’t act like you’re not a total diva sometimes, Styles.” You couldn’t deny that him calling you a ‘spoiled princess’ made you feel things, unholy things. Of course you found Harry unbelievably attractive, but this was your fourth time being with Harry and the two of you hadn’t done anything besides heavy makeout sessions. You loved the way he said your name, but you also loved his nicknames for you, but this was a new one that seemed to hold some meaning within it.

Harry liked to see you all worked up, but knew he could get the exact same way, upset when things don’t turn out the way you want them. Frustrating. Finally, he popped the cork and you both cheered for the golden bubbly liquid. You had spent almost about an hour on the road and an hour or two already on the cliff, so the sun was starting to make its farewells to this side of the earth. The sky was beginning to light up with pinks, oranges, and lavenders. You both sat back down on the blanket, this time with you sat up inside of Harry’s spread legs, reclining back onto his chest.

You continued to talk, about the view before you for a little, but then each other. Whenever you were together, the two of you gravitated to the topic of enjoying the other so much. Today was apparently Harry’s turn to share. “When we were in tha car, earlier,” he started as you twiddled your fingers on his thigh, drawing shapes. You looked up into his eyes to encourage him to continue. “Haven’t had tha’ much fun in awhile. You…” he hesitated again and averted his eyes from your stare. You whispered a little ‘yeah’. You really cared about Harry feeling comfortable with you and making him happy, so you knew encouragement was helpful when he was trying to gather his thoughts. “Y’make me feel young...tha’ sounds so dumb, but y’really do,” he finally got out as put his hand over your moving one on his thigh. The two of you didn’t talk about the fact that Harry was a bit older than you. He was famous when you were a puberty-stricken teenager. The age gap wasn’t really an issue, you were both adults, but his statement reminded you that he would be 30 soon and you were still in your early 20s.

You twisted around to sit on your knees and face Harry. You placed both of your hands on his face, cradling his jaw and cheeks on each side of his face. This forced him to look you right in the eyes. You appreciated the beauty of his piercing green eyes for a moment and then went to kiss his crows feet on the sides of his eyes, his forehead lines, his hairline, his five o’clock shadow, and his smile lines, that had cropped up as he giggled at you. You were making exaggerated kiss noises as you loved on his face. “First of all, you are young,” you finally said in audible words. You waited a beat, then you kissed his soft lips that were smiling up at you. He was still smiling when you kissed him so your lips hit a bit of a tooth and you both giggled. But, you stood strong, not pulling away to laugh. Harry kissed you back. He shifted and brought his hands up from the ground where they had been holding him up to cradle your body instead. The kiss stayed chaste, despite Harry’s protests when you pulled back.

“And second, you make me feel alive.” “Alive…” Harry echoed you slowly, “Tha’s a better way to put it. I am young,” He smirked and then winked at you. You moved your hands to sit on his upper chest and could feel his heart beating soft, but strong beneath his skin. You grabbed his arm and moved it from around you. Harry quirked a brow at you. Then you placed his hand above your left breast and below your collarbone. Now he could feel your heartbeat, too. Yours, you thought, was beating a bit faster than his, but you didn’t care. Touching like this, made you feel close to him. Like you could see inside each other.  

-

You finished off the bottle of champagne because Harry had to stop drinking to be able to drive the two of you home safely. You felt very warm from it, despite the sun setting a while ago and your bare arms and legs. Luckily, besides the slight buzz you had, it was summer in California, and the nights stayed relatively warm. You skipped to the car and bent over the convertible to put the picnic basket in the backseat. Harry was right behind you and gave your bum a light pat, you pulled yourself up and flipped around, giggling. You tugged Harry in by his shirt and demanded, “Kissy.” Harry snorted and obliged, but with an open mouthed kiss where his tongue basically slobbered over your lips, mouth, and a bit of your nose. You whined, “You’re fucking disgusting, Har.” “Ya’ love it,” he responded with a faux posh voice before giving you a quick peck to your lips and rounded the car, telling you to get in and buckle up.

The whole ride home, Harry had his hand on your thigh. With it there, you occupied yourself with twisting his rings and and dancing your hand around his fingertips. The champagne had made you quiet, but smiley. The music you played was softer on the ride back home, you knew Harry needed to focus with the dark road and you didn’t want the music to distract him.

One song that was of note was “Lavendar (Take 4)” by the Beach Boys. The recording is somewhat unpleasant, but the song is beautiful. It had reminded you of the clothes you and Harry had worn on your date, the wildflowers that had just surrounded you, and the color of the sky when the sun had set on the scene of you and Harry tenderly kissing each other. The Beach Boys are known for their California, Surf pop sounds, but this sound is soft and filled with lushious harmonies, an ode to lavender, maybe a girl named lavender, but nonetheless it was for lavender. Harry harmonized along with their voices, returning to his original state. It ended and went straight into Simon & Garfunkel’s “America.” Paul Simon’s voice passed through the speakers and whispered to us sweetly. Harry again hummed in appreciation for the song choice.

-

When you arrived at the house, you helped Harry clean up the dishes and trash in the picnic basket. Then you sat on the couch, it was around ten o’clock and Harry had offered to make a pot of tea. You looked over the back of the couch as he moved around his kitchen. He padded around, putting the kettle on, opening cupboards for mugs and tea choices. When the water was ready, he got the tea ready, choosing a loose-leaf blend he’d found at a fancy restaurant in Amsterdam. “No cream tonight,” you called, still watching him work his way around his home.

Admiration shown in your eyes as he nodded and finished up the tea, bringing it over to you at the couch. He chose your mug tonight. Different from the previous two, his and yours were a matching set with dark blue interiors with tiny cartoon sailboats. You loved his collection of fun mugs, it fit him so well. After handing it to you, he snuggled in beside you and you took a sip, then rested your head on top of his strong shoulder. You turned your head to give a light kiss to his shoulder, and then moved back to staring ahead of you.  

“Wanna stay?” Harry asked, his arm around your body, holding you close to him. “Can just drive ‘ome in the mornin’,” he continued. “That’d be really nice,” you sighed. This was so comfortable, how was in possible to be like this with someone you’d known for a little over a week? It didn’t matter to either of you how quick it had happened. But it happened, and it felt right, so you went with it. This, what you and Harry had, made you happy so there couldn’t really be anything wrong with that.

-

You two chatted a bit more - about your week of tour preparations, Harry’s flight time tomorrow, various random thoughts, - and you drank your tea. At about midnight, Harry suggested that you and he get ready for bed and then watch something on his laptop. You agreed and ventured into an unknown part of his home. You’d started to snoop earlier today when you had found the garage, but had only gotten that far because you got distracted by Harry’s car.

His house was beautiful and perfectly him. It was big, but his decor and things made it specifically Harry, even if he didn’t live here full time anymore. You reached the master bedroom, located in the back of his house, with french doors, identical to those in the sitting room, opening out to the grass in his backyard. His bed. His bed. It was a California King with tasteful bedding and a beautiful wooden headboard and frame.

You ran and jumped onto it, the bed sinking beneath you and the bedding fluffing around you. You snuggled and rolled around in the sheets, “This is so much nicer than my bed in the apartment, it’s only a full…” you trailed off. Harry leaned against the doorway of the room, smiling to himself as he watched you make yourself at home among this life. “You’ll be gettin’ a new place, soon, I reckon?” Harry asked and went to grab you both some clothes to sleep in from his closet. “Yeah, maybe!” you called out to him in the little room connected to the master that housed his clothes.

When Harry returned, he was only in boxers, but was holding two large t-shirts, a pair of sweatpants, and another pair of boxers. “D’ya mind if I sleep like this? I can put more clothes on if that makes you more comfortable?”

You couldn’t keep your jaw from dropping. You’d seen Harry shirtless before, everyone had, but to see him right in front of you, that was something else.

He noticed you staring at his body and smirked, but then threw a shirt and the pair of boxers your way, “Stop bein’ such a perv, love,” he teased. “Rude,” you muttered, “Was simply admiring...but if you don’t want me to look, you can sleep fully clothed,” you scratched your nose and then shrugged your shoulders.

As you worked to slide off the big bed, Harry crossed the room and trapped you on the edge, leaning over you with both his hands landing on either side of you on the bed. You scrunch your eyes and nose up as he tries to make eye contact with you. He goes to kiss you, but you turn your head and your cheek receives a kiss. He stays against your cheek, drags out your name and groans, “s’teasin’ you.” “I know, baby,” you respond and kiss his cheek now. You duck under his arm and run into his en suite bathroom, shutting the door to change. When you re-emerge, Harry’s in the bed, with the sheets pulled back, and his computer in his lap.

Harry calls out to you without looking up from his screen, “S’was thinkin’, y’know, since you’re always saying your apartment is tiny, y’could house sit ‘ere while I’m away?” You tilt you head as you approach the bed as you ponder the idea. “I mean, I guess ‘why not’? It would be a longer commute into the studio, but this place is gorgeous, and I’m gonna start traveling a lot anyway so I won’t need my apartment for much longer…” You continue to think on it as you climb back onto Harry’s bed and snuggle yourself into his body. Harry looks slightly down at you by his side, he’s put on his glasses, “Think you should, I’d also like knowin’ someone was ‘ere, keepin’ things running while I’m away.”

You nodded and move slightly to rest your head on Harry’s naked chest. His sunkissed tattooed body is mesmerizing, you reach your hand up and start tracing the various designs and running your hand along his collarbones and veins as well. Then you flattened a palm and smoothed it over his right pectoral. Harry hummed and pushed himself further down the bed. “Can we not watch anything actually, m’kinda tired,” you whisper up to Harry, your voice the only sound in the house besides the light clicking of a clock in a different room. Harry responds by closing the laptop and readjusting your position in the bed. You and Harry are a tangle of legs and bodies pressed against one another. Everything is calm and Harry says one word, “Kissy.” And you smile and let yourself pull slightly away from Harry to lean up and kiss him one more time before the two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms. It’s soft and chaste, completely closed mouths, but you linger in the kiss, feeling his warm nose brushing besides yours. A hand moves up to his hair and gives it one good run through and then you pull away, “Kissy,” you finalize. The two of you giggle and snuggle even further together.

Your bodies fit so well together and again you were struck with the feeling that you never wanted this to end, even if tomorrow he was flying away, to somewhere halfway across the world. The distance didn’t matter. You knew the two of you had what it took to be there for each other, even if you couldn’t touch or feel the other. Even if laughter over the phone had to suffice for awhile. What the two of you had was greater than all of those obstacles of space and proximity. It was powerful because you were both powerful. Powerful in the way you loved, in the way you worked, in the way you simply were. You fell asleep in Harry’s arms that night filled with contentment. Harry fell asleep with you in his arms that night filled with joy that he’d found someone to share everything with. Someone who was willing to give him all of themselves. Someone who was finally able to get all of him.

-

love y’all sm 🤍🤍 hope you enjoyed and have a nice day