#But the queue is at full whack

[unashamedly-enthusiastic]

I rarely get bone deep cold, but when I'm ill I get top skin cold

wearing the fluffiest hoodie and the coziest joggers, under the covers with the heated blanket full blast, and my skin screams a hundred warnings "I AM TOO COLD"

I am gonna go out on a chilly limb here and predict the fever dreams will make an appearance tonight

[solarpunkani]

PROGRESS!!!!!!

[punksyeet]

- Bestie Kisses & Birthday Wishes ❥

Plot: Gianna’s (OC) birthday wish is granted after spending a celebratory dinner with her best friend of over a decade.

Warning: Mature language, hefty flirting, & talks of smut!

"Thank you for dinner Josh," I coo, swirling my straw in my shirley temple. "It was amazing."

He shoots me that dreamy smile of his while taking a sip from his wine glass. "My pleasure, birthday girl. You know I had to go all out for you."

I smile shyly, before taking a strand of hair away from my face.

Joshua Fatu has been my best friend for over 15 years now, but within the past year or so, I've developed a little bit — well more like a lotta bit — of a crush on him.

Ever since he went solo in his job over at WWE, he's had this glow to him. And he's so much happier.

It's an attractive glow. And as his best friend, I love seeing him happy. More than anything.

Soon enough, I'm caught out of my daydreaming by a bunch of waiters coming over to our table with a cake.

It's baby pink and shaped like a heart, with white borders and long candles. 

I dramatically stick out my bottom lip as they sing to me.

Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday from Canoe!

Happy birthday to you!

I make a wish and blow out the candles and a bunch of people that are sat around us start cheering, Josh included.

I giggle and thank the servers as Josh daps up the manager, before they go back to their jobs.

"This cake is so pretty," I coo, staring at it dreamily.

He gives me another warm smile, taking pictures of me with it. "I remember a couple months ago you were looking at it on Pinterest. So I got the bakery by my place to make it for you."

"Ugh you're the sweetest," I reply, walking around the table and wrapping him into a hug. "Thank you."

He immediately hugs back, stroking my back. "You're welcome, love. Now come on. Let's see if this cake tastes as good as it looks."

I walk back over to my side, sit down, and we dig in.

The rest of our dinner is filled with more small talk, laughs, and even Josh putting frosting on my nose.

"I'm so full," I groan, walking back to the car.

Josh chuckles and walks beside me, his hand resting on my lower back. "Me too. But as long as you enjoyed the food, that's all that matters."

I nod, smiling softly. "I really did."

He smiles and opens the passenger door for me and takes my hand, helping me in.

Once he's in as well, we head off.

About 2 minutes into the drive, we decide to jam to some music.

I queue up "Love" by Keyshia Cole, and sing the words, serenading Josh as he drives.

He laughs and shakes his head as I belt the words.

Ohhhh loooooooooove!

Never knew what I was missin!

But I knew once we start kissin,

I foooo-ooo-oo-ooound....

Loooooooveeeeee!

Once the song is over, I try to catch by breath and lean back into my seat.

Josh looks over at me and chuckles. "You really sang that shit, huh?"

I nod giggling, and scan my playlist for more songs.

About 20 minutes later, we reach my place.

"Why don't you come inside?" I ask, taking my seatbelt off. "It's still early."

"You sure?" he asks. "I don't wanna be in the way if you wanna just relax for the rest of the night."

I roll my eyes playfully, and hop out of the car. "Boy we've been best friends for over a decade. You know you're never in the way. Now shut up and come inside."

He chuckles and gives in, hopping out of the car and following me up my walkway.

Once we get inside, the comforting smells of vanilla and lavender take over, immediately relaxing me.

"Dang I haven't been here in a hot minute," he exclaims, immediately taking a seat on the couch.

I nod in agreement, taking the cushion next to him and propping my elbow up on the top of the couch. "Cause you're never home anymore."

He gives me a soft smile. "I know. But you know how it is."

I bite the inside of my cheek and nod.

"But I'm here now!" he says, lightening the mood with a goofy dance.

I burst into laughter and whack him upside the head with a pillow. "You're such a goof!"

"And you love it," he replies, laughing along with me.

We share a hug before I get up and adjust my dress. "I'm gonna change. You need anything while I'm up?"

He shakes his head and pulls out his phone. "Nah I'm good, thank you. Take your time."

I nod, smiling and head up to my bedroom to pick out a comfier but still cute outfit.

I find a cute cropped white tank top and Hello Kitty pajama pants.

I head to the bathroom and remove my makeup, tie my hair into a messy bun, and head back downstairs.

Josh looks up when he hears my footsteps and smiles. "You look cute."

I smile back and take my seat next to him. "Thanks."

We hug and he kisses my temple.

He's been doing this in a brotherly way for years now, but for some reason, it feels different now.

"Did you have a good time tonight?" he asks, wrapping an arm around my waist and stroking my side.

I nod, laying my head on his shoulder. "Only the best when I'm with you."

"Good," he replies, smiling and laying his head back.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him looking down at me.

After pondering for a little bit, I finally gain the confidence to look back, making us both smile in unison.

"Whatchu lookin at?" I tease, playfully messing with his hair.

He playfully pouts and folds his arms. "What? I can't look atchu no more?"

"Of course you can," I reply, flicking my hair off my shoulder. "Look all you want."

"Bet," he mutters under his breath and we have a mini staring contest before he speaks up again.

"You know," he begins. "You looked real pretty tonight."

Me? Sir, you looked delicious.

"Thank you," I reply, slightly blushing but doing my very best to hide it. "You looked good too. You always do."

He gives me a soft smile and takes a strand of hair out of my face. "Can I be honest?"

I smile, scooting myself so I'm fully facing him. "Of course you can. You know I'm always listening."

He takes a deep breath before talking again. "I really wanna kiss you right now."

My breathing hitches and I stop dead in my tracks.

"Y-you what?" I ask, making sure I heard him correctly and it wasn't just another one of my daydreams.

"I wanna kiss you," he repeats. "I've wanted to for years now."

My jaw drops open in shock. "Years?"

He nods, biting his lip. "I never had the balls to go about shooting my shot, despite me having zero game. And I loved our friendship too much to end it over what I thought was a silly crush. But as we've gotten older, I realized that it's more than just that. I love you, Gianna. Like I love love you. And I want to make you mine, ma."

I just sit there, speechless.

Everything that just came out of his mouth is exactly how I feel.

I just never knew the right words.

I take a deep breath before responding.

"Well I'm glad one of us had the courage to say it," I say, my voice just above a whisper. "Because I love you too."

He raises an eyebrow. "Really? You're not just saying that?"

I shake my head, biting my lip gently. "My crush on you has only gotten bigger throughout the years. I just didn't know how or when to tell you. I didn't wanna lose you forever."

"Baby," he coos, cupping my face. "It would take some next level fucked up shit for you to lose me. Let alone forever. Regardless of anything and everything, I'm always gonna be here. Okay?"

I nod slowly, and play with his curls. "Okay."

We stare into each other's eyes for a bit more until I make the first move, slowly leaning in and placing my lips on his.

He automatically responds, our lips moving in sync the entire time.

God I've been waiting for this.

And I've never experienced anything more worth waiting for.

After a few seconds, we slowly pull away.

"Fuck that felt good," he mumbles, causing us to share a laugh.

I nod in agreement, before pressing our foreheads together gently. "It really did. Your lips are everything I've ever dreamed of."

"Well I'm glad they met your expectations," he replies with a soft smile before connecting our lips again, which this time, leads me to straddling his lap.

After lots of innocent touching, he pulls away and looks into my eyes.

"We can take this as far as you want," he exclaims, stroking my thighs. "Just say the words, baby."

I take a deep breath before responding, my fingers still tangled in his hair. "Joshua, I don't know about you, but I've been waiting for this moment for over a decade. Fuck the shit outta me for all I care."

"Well in that case," he replies, smirking and caressing my ass in his hands. "Let's get you laid back so you can enjoy yourself, babygirl. Because it's gonna be a long night."

I bite my lip gently and wrap my legs around his waist as he picks us up and walks upstairs to my bedroom.

And a long night it was.

In more ways than one.

—————————————————————————————————

I wake up and immediately stretch to the sound of birds chirping it up and the bright sunlight coming through my curtains.

My eyes flutter open and land on my now beautiful boyfriend, peacefully sleeping next to me.

I softly smile and lay back down in his arms, kissing the corner of his lips before pulling the covers over us once more.

He stirs in his sleep, pulling me in closer and sighing, before allowing light snores to pour out of him again.

A little while later, I get the random urge to pee.

I gently wiggle out of his grip and make my way to the bathroom, stumbling a little bit due to last night's thrilling events.

I do my business alongside my morning routine, before coming out and seeing Josh wide awake, scrolling on his phone.

He looks up and smiles when he sees me. "Morning, beautiful."

"Morning love," I reply, climbing back into bed.

We share a kiss before I lay back down and get comfortable again.

"How'd you sleep?" he asks, running his fingers through my hair.

"Mmmm like a baby," I reply dreamily, melting into his touch. "Thanks to my new friend down there."

He smirks and leans down to give me yet another kiss. "He's always been your friend. You two have just never met properly."

"Sir if you're implying that you've jacked off to me..." my voice trails off as he chuckles.

"Maybe," he replies, throwing his hands up. "Maybe not."

I playfully roll my eyes and act as though I'm going back to sleep. "It's too early for this."

He laughs and lays back down as well, attacking my face with kisses. "I love you, pretty mama."

"I love you more baby," I reply between giggles, before gently scratching his beard and kissing his jaw.

He wraps me back into his arms and, after lots more stolen kisses, we drift back to sleep.

I'm so glad the man of my dreams is finally mine.

Liked by uceyjucey, jonathanfatu, trinity_fatu, rikishi, and 93.7k others

giannamacri chapter twenty five: complete 💐

View all 6.1k comments

uceyjucey The baddest birthday girl 👀🩷

trinity_fatu Gorgeous sis 😮‍💨🥰

Liked by giannamacri, jonathanfatu, rikishi, solosikoa, and 1.5M others

uceyjucey Happy birthday to my forever best friend and now the woman I can finally call mine. The baddest chick in the world. I love you baby. 🩵

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giannamacri i love you 🥹🥲🤍

jonathanfatu Happy for yall twin 🤞🏽🩸

Tag List: @uceyliyahh @christinabae ♡

^^ If you'd like to be added, feel free to leave a comment below! <3

Check out my wattpad and twitter! 💟

Follows, feedback, & reblogs appreciated! 🧚🏼‍♀️

[hydrus]

Version 533

windows

zip

exe

macOS

app

linux

tar.gz

I had an ok week. There's a mix of different work and a fix to the recent macOS crashing.

full changelog

all misc this week

Subscription popup windows should update far more smoothly and frequently this week. Some of the 'should I check for new text?' logic was broken when I embedded the popup toaster into the main UI a few months ago--it is fixed.

If you right-click an image that is larger than 1,024 pixels on a side, the share->copy menu now has a second 'copy bitmap' that crops the image down for easier and faster pasting in lookup services like SauceNAO.

I added some info about the not-well-documented tag/predicate mouse shortcuts (e.g. shift+double-click to edit system predicates) to the help here: https://hydrusnetwork.github.io/hydrus/getting_started_searching.html#editing_predicates

I added a link to the Client API help for a neat new tool that finds video duplicates and queues them up in the duplicate filter. Here: https://github.com/appleappleapplenanner/hydrus-video-deduplicator

Since v529, at least some users of the macOS app have had terrible crashing. Last week's attempt didn't do it, but I think we've fixed it now! It was something I never even knew about updating in the background to an incompatible version. Thank you for your patience and help testing, and let me know if you still have any trouble!

If you are an advanced downloader maker, check out the changelog regarding sub-gallery urls. Nothing huge has changed, but they'll inherit and parse tags and some other stuff from their parent parsing step now.

The experimental QtMediaPlayer now initialises with and updates according to the volume and mute settings. Previously it was stuck on 100% always. The volume bar is still hidden on the actual player, but we are moving forward.

next week

I failed to do as I planned this week. I'd hoped to set aside a good whack of time to figure out a PTR tag filtering system, but it didn't happen. I'll see if I can get the time and energy together again this week, and if not, I'll try and kick out some ratings in the Client API instead.

[autismking]

i barely ate anything at lunch two hours ago and im still so full im nauseous

[quilloftheclouds]

Hey writers! This is very random but you know, I’m going out and saying it:

Non-binary characters DO NOT HAVE TO BE ONLY ANDROGYNOUS.

There are hyper feminine* non-binary people in real life! There are hyper masculine* non-binary people in real life! There are non-binary people who flip between the two or few or more, and there are non-binary people who land somewhere in the middle or completely off that scale entirely.

Please, I see so many completely androgynous non-binary characters, and I understand that might be easier to write (and there’s absolutely no problem with that! More representation!! YAY!!), but be aware that more than just that exists in the real world, so it certainly can in your writing, as well!

For example: me! Sure sure, I’m not out to many people irl yet, but in amidst friends who are respectful of my gender and pronouns? Figure-wise, it’s pretty obvious what gender I transitioned from, and I’m not ashamed of that irl. (I just wish people would use my proper pronouns...) Most might say I dress more often masculinely, but occasionally I feel like going more femininely, and then, yes, I’ll also dress androgynously a lot of the time. For me, it’s a sliding scale depending on what I feel like and what the situation is--I’m sort of genderfluid, yeah, but for me my gender expression doesn’t change my gender. (It can for some people!)

But also... women can? Dress more masculinely? Does that make them a man? Men can wear (feminine) dresses? Does that make them a woman? Only if they want it to.

Non-binary characters DO NOT HAVE TO USE ONLY THEY/THEM PRONOUNS.

You can have a non-binary person who prefers she/her pronouns, expresses herself more femininely, more androgynously, more masculinely, or some combination thereof! You can have a non-binary person who prefers he/him pronouns with the same thing! You can have a non-binary person who prefers xe/xem/ze/zem/ey/em/etc.!

You can have a non-binary person who has multiple sets of pronouns, with a preference for one specific set, or a preference for the sets to be rotated through!

A lot of non-binary people also have a set of pronouns that can be used in languages that don’t have equivalents for their preferred pronouns!

There are also ALL SORTS of gender identities that fall under the non-binary umbrella, and there are ALL SORTS of people who refer to themselves as non-binary! If you so feel inclined, hows about including some variety in your non-binary characters?

I’m probably not the best person to be answering questions about this, but if you’re confused, I might be able to help if you send along an ask~ I do suggest checking out @scriptlgbt for further advice first, though!

*I use the terms “masculine” and “feminine” purely for ease of comprehension--if you have some better terms for me to use, please let me know!

[finelinevogue]

Imagine if you’d been dating Harry for ages and all the fans love you and him together cause you’re always super nice and love talking to the fans too (maybe you’re slightly famous like an actor or work in fashion or something?) and you’re kinda in the background when Harry is meeting fans before the show, offering to take photos and chatting with them all🥺

okay so let’s pretend hslot has a meet and greet before hand… that’s the dream right? ;

“Love, y’sure you’ll be alright?” Harry asked as you stood off to the side of the room, nearer the drinks and snacks bar stand.

“Yes, H. I’ll be fine!” You replied.

Harry was worried about leaving you alone, although still in the same room as him, when his fans came in for their meet and greet. There wasn’t masses of them, but still enough for if they wanted to gang up and shout at you, which you’ve insisted many times to Harry is a silly notion, that they could successfully do so. You were in the media industry, a photographer no less and you’d met Harry on the shoot for Another Man - having been his designated photographer for the day. He swore he loved you at first sight. Since that shoot you were constantly with each other and the fans fell in love with you more and more each day, however there were still the ones who despised you - that’s what, or rather whom, Harry was worried about tonight.

He looked so good tonight, you could barely focus on anything else. Harry was in his outfit for stage and he was wearing pink trousers, cream-white boots and a gilet style jacket made out of glittery tassels. He was so beautiful and his skin was glowing so gorgeously, from spending the last week or so in LA. You were coordinating with him and were wearing a pink blazer with matching pink pants and then a cream-white bralette underneath the jacket with the same cream-white boots as him. You both couldn’t look more like a couple if you tried. Lambert had taken so many photos of you both, happy that you’d managed to unexpectedly coordinate so well with each other.

It was a soulmate thing, you told him.

It was around 40 minutes until showtime now and the fans should be arriving any moment now, for their opportunity to get photos with their idol.

“Just don’t like leaving y’alone.” He sighed, wrapping his arms around your neck so he could hold you closer. Your arms rested on his inner arms, feeling the warmth of his skin so smoothly as he swayed you from side to side.

“Well i’ll be by the snacks if y’need to find me.” You laughed and so did he, making you feel better that he was feeling a bit better too.

“M’kay.” He said softly and leant down to give you a soft kiss to the lips, cupping you chin lightly so he could pull your further into him. He tasted so good and fresh and he felt so hot against you. He pulled away with much reluctance and smiled when he saw your strawberry-tasting lipstick now slightly smudged. “Did I mention how hot you look tonight?”

“Only a few times.” You smiled and bit your lip as his eyes gazed over you, soaking up every detail of you, your body and outfit. You knew you looked pretty damn good, because you felt so good too.

“Only a few? Well that’s not good enough, is it?” He asked rhetorically, straightening your blazer slightly so the collar wasn’t crooked.

“You can make up for it later.”

“Oh, i’ll make sure of it lovie.” Harry raised his eyebrows and kissed your cheek, before Jeff told him to go stand over by the wall where photos would be taken. He left you be, with a childish pout to his face, and did what he was told.

It was another minute before the fans piled into the room, being told to form an orderly queue within the lines they’d marked out. You took a water bottle and drank from it as the first girl walked up to Harry, the poor thing shaking like a leaf. You watched as Harry comforted her, hugging her only slightly. Everyone here was obligated to wear a mask and also be vaccinated with a negative test result. If you weren’t vaccinated you couldn’t meet Harry, regardless of whether your test was negative. There were very strict rules, but it was for the safety of everyone - including touring staff who were more vulnerable.

A few of the other girls did their solo photos, before asking for a group one too. They were all coordinating in their outfits, but just different colours so they made a rainbow. Harry thought it was genius and made positive comments on all their outfits. You could tell it had made their year, let alone their day.

Once the first group was done they were told they could refresh themselves with some snack, before they would be escorted to their seats because they were in their own pit area. You smiled with your eyes at the group of rainbow girls approaching the table, moving out of the way so that they could grab what they wanted.

“Y/N?” One of the girls asked, the one wearing lilac actually.

“Hi, hello!” You waved awkwardly, not sure whether this was going to be the confrontation Harry had warned you about.

“Can we get a photo?” They asked politely, which made your eyes widen. You’d never been asked for a fan photo before, even when out in public with Harry. You’d always preferred to stick to the shadows unless instructed otherwise, just because you hadn’t always appreciated how good you looked, but now you were feeling great so you didn’t have a problem with it.

“Sure, yeah.” You nodded as the girl brought her camera up to snap a few selfies with you. You smiled through your mask and stuck up a peace sign - just like Harry had taught you to do.

“Thank you so much. You look amazing, by the way.” They complimented your outfit.

“Thank you! So you do lot! You’re giving me heavy TPWK vibes.” You pointed to them and they laughed, agreeing that that is in fact what they were going for.

“Can I get a photo too, sorry?” The green girl asked and you had to admit that they probably looked the best, but maybe you were just biased because that wad your favourite colour because they reminded you of your boyfriend’s eyes.

“Don’t be sorry, ‘course y’can.” You smiled and they came to stand closer to you. You took a few selfies with them and then the blue one asked too. It wasn’t long before you’d taken selfies with the full rainbow. “Shall we have a group photo?”

“Oh my god yes please!” They all cheered at the same time and you called over one of Harry’s security guards to come take a picture for you.

You all huddled together, you in the middle of them. You were stood in between green and yellow, so your pink outfit sort of ruined the flow of colours but they didn’t seem to mind. They especially didn’t seem to mind when Harry sneaked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your head. He squeezed you tight and everyone’s faces were super happy when the next few photos were taken.

“What’re you playing at?” You asked him, taking your arms off the shoulders of the girls and turning your head around to face him since he wasn’t letting go of your waist.

“Was told to come tell you to stop being a bother so these lot can go and find their seats.” Harry smiled his cheeky grin, knowing that he phrased that in a less than pleasant way.

“A both—”

“Y/N was no bother at all.” Green girl came to your assistance, protecting you against Harry’s playful accusation.

“Yeah we asked to take the photos.” Red girl stepped in next, blushing when they realised that Harry was actually staring at them with a smile on his face.

“Alright. Just this one can be trouble sometimes.” Harry tickled your waist, which made you squirm and laugh.

“Oi i’m not trouble, y’prick.” You whacked him in offence, just joking and the fans could tell because they were all laughing at you two. You noticed that one or two of them were filming you both, or taking photos, and so you tilted your head back onto Harry’s shoulder as he held you tight - feeding the fans the content that they so desperately wanted.

“Thank you so much Y/N. I love you Harry. Thank you Harry.” They all spoke bc over each other as they were escorted out of the room and off to their seats, Harry being told he had ten minutes until stage.

Harry just held you tight, kissing you at every opportune moment until the sounds of Golden called him away.

[blackacre13]

Have you read "The 7 husbands of Evelyn Hugo"? I would love to read a Loubbie AU of this.

Sooooo first off, YES. YES, MY BROKEN HEART AND I HAVE. And I plan to re-read it multiple times as well. I am in love with it. But here's the thing. I have a request for it steadily getting closer and closer in the queue (I think in the next few weeks!) and I am super excited for it, and was already thinking about Lou and Deb and who should be Celia and who should be Evelyn while I was reading it, but I'm a bit scared that it will be too similar to the Actress AU so I have some kinks to work out for sure. I definitely will be writing it though, and the request is fast-approaching, so stay tuned! But I don't know quite how I'm going to take the whack at it, just know that the original characters mean so damn much to me that I will be treating it with delicate, fancy gloves and a full heart and I can't wait to see how it turns out!

(If it helps as a holdover, my gut says Deb = Evelyn and Lou = Celia, but you can't hold me to it)

(Art is Jenifer Prince, of course; and whenever I have a home office, I will be adding this to my must-have collection of Prince art/I need it on a sweatshirt to wear all the time stat)

[grapenehifics]

WIP Wednesday

Apparently WIP Wednesdays are a thing - I just found out today but I am excited to play!

Obi-Wan sighed and powered on his datapad. His morning was going to be a colossal waste of time anyway; he might as well get some reading done.

“Vests!” Aayla Secura called from the floor of the training salle below. She was the Senior Padawan in charge of the Junior Padawans today (Force help anyone who tried to refer to Anakin as a Junior Padawan in his presence, however), and had decided to lead them in a game of Melee. Hence, Obi-Wan’s waste of a morning.

Obi-Wan had been informed, in no uncertain terms, that Anakin was no longer permitted to play Melee unless Obi-Wan was also present. Obi-Wan interpreted this as ‘Anakin has lost his Melee-playing privileges’ and was happy to leave it at that, but late last night after Anakin had gone to bed Quinlan had messaged Obi-Wan and asked if he’d bring Anakin, because it was Aayla’s first time leading Melee, she was nervous about it, and she was one Padawan short. Obi-Wan knew as well as anyone did that Melee required an even number of players, and so he’d allowed himself to be (grudgingly) talked into this little adventure. Well, misadventure.

Obi-Wan glanced up just in time to see Anakin elbow Ferus Olin in the ribs so he could cut in front of him in the queue forming in front of Aayla as she handed out the Melee vests. Obi-Wan was glad he was sitting in the observer’s deck and was out of sight of the Padawans, as he didn’t manage to cover his smile behind his hand as quickly as he should have. Should Anakin be jumping queues and resorting to violence? Well, no. But the Melee vests had been old even when Obi-Wan was a Padawan, and there were some that worked much better than others did. Let yourself get relegated to the back of the line, and there was a high chance you’d be out of the game if someone sneezed on you, or before it even started.

The vests were meant to be tuned to the practice sabres, and would light up red if the person wearing it was struck by one anywhere on their torso. But, well. Padawans were not known for taking care of communal equipment with perhaps as much gusto as they ought to have done.

“Split up. Half of you on that side, and half of you on this side,” Aayla instructed, once the students were all wearing a vest apiece, and this instruction devolved into a mess of Padawans arguing about who got to be on whose team. Obi-Wan smirked and went back to his datafile. One Padawan in particular might have been his problem to deal with, but the mess on the training floor just then was manifestly none of his business.

(His Padawan had chosen a side already, and was occupying himself by staring daggers at Padawan Olin, who was standing across from him on the other side. Would this be a problem later? Probably. But it wasn’t a problem right now, and that was the important thing.)

“Ow, Anakin,” complained Nahdar Vebb, a Mon Cala Padawan a year older than Anakin, who had had the unfortunate luck to end up standing next to him while he twirled his practice sabre, bored waiting to begin and wanting to either intimidate Olin or impress Obi-Wan; Obi-Wan wasn’t sure which. He pointedly went back to his book just in case it was the latter.

“Sorry,” Anakin said.

“Begin!” Padawan Secura said.

The Padawans rushed at each other, and Obi-Wan tried very hard to practice a little exercise in concentrating despite external distractions (i.e. reading while forced to sit in a room full of shouting teenagers). He felt a headache coming on.

The first time, it took less than twenty minutes. “I really should have been taking wagers,” Obi-Wan muttered to himself as he picked his way down the steps. “Excuse me,” he said to the Padawans who, after being eliminated from the game, had somehow found the willpower to sit quietly and wait for the next round to begin.

Not Obi-Wan’s Padawan, though. “It bounced off,” Anakin was shouting, his voice carrying even above the sounds of large children whacking each other with wooden sticks and his vest flashing red. “It doesn’t count. If it was a real lightsaber it would have barely singed my arm. I’m still in” –

“How would you know about real lightsabers?” Ferus Olin sneered. “You don’t have one” –

Anakin drew his fist back, ready to let him have it, but Obi-Wan was faster, and grabbed a handful of Anakin’s tunics at the back of his neck and lifted him bodily off the floor. He swung his arm anyway, following through with the momentum, but the punch did nothing but swish through empty air. His feet kicked ineffectively a few inches off the ground. Ferus, and a couple of the other children, laughed.

“Let me go!” Anakin shouted, twisting in Obi-Wan’s grip.

“No,” Obi-Wan said, in that calming tone he used expressly because he knew it made Anakin angry.

[let-me-write-shit]

Hey! Idk if u r taking requests hint if you are, can u do one where harry+y/n+bby paxton are out and about but all the sudden get swarmed by paps and then one of the cameras accidentally hit the baby and the clip goes viral and celebs and ex-1D members and stans all start coming to the defense and share stories about how awful the paps are? U don’t have to haha

A/N: Thank you so much, @gwen-and-harry, for this request! I’m sorry it took so long! Hope this is alright!

Word Count: 5,227

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

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Paparazzi

The outpour of love and well-wishes after the announcement of the birth of their firstborn son was touching and comforting. Harry and Y/N were lucky to be surrounded by so many wonderful people. Still, the eagerness of the public to get the first glimpse of the newborn and the new parents began to grow. No one had seen the couple out since before their son was born and Paxton was nearly three months old, now. People were becoming desperate.

There were more and more fans outside of their house as the days passed. Y/N and Harry had people running errands for them and luckily had the help of friends and family, as well, who would stick around for a few days at a time to give them little breaks and were more than happy to get some time with the happy baby. But as the sun stayed out longer and the temperature began to rise, the new family felt the yearning for a nice summer holiday.

They’d planned it for weeks, excited to take pictures and videos of Paxton’s first time at the beach. Harry had found a perfect house with a private beach off the coast of Italy and even decided to bring along security. And even though he didn’t do it often, he thought the circumstances warranted renting a private plane to take them to the beautiful country.

Harry and Y/N were very cautious in showing any images of their baby. No one, aside from close friends and family, even knew of his name. Having been the victims of stalking, they didn’t want their son to be subjected to that and tried everything in their power to protect their child. There were brief moments when it was typical for it to be vacant outside their home, so they planned their escape down to the minute; bags loaded in the car from the night before, and two security guards standing by to rush them to the car.

Paxton was already buckled into his infant car seat and kicking along, happily, as Y/N cooed at him, dangling toys and pinching his chubby legs while Harry peered out of the window, waiting until the coast was clear. She noticed her husband straighten up more just before the security guard said, “Let’s go.”

Harry hoisted the brown leather diaper bag further up his shoulders and tossed a muslin blanket over the top of the car seat to cover Paxton, just in case anyone happened to see them. He took hold of the car seat and carried his baby out to the car as swiftly as he could while Y/N followed closely behind him. It took two minutes for everyone to get settled in and pull out of the driveway before they felt like they could breathe a sigh of relief.

Y/N and Harry shared a look of burden. The lengths they had to take just to keep a bit of privacy and normalcy was insane. And still, they weren’t out of the woods yet. Although they were flying privately, they still needed to drive to the main airport where their plane would depart from a strip off to the side. Everything seemed to be alright, so far. Usually, Harry could tell if it were going to be crazy if there were cars of fans chasing them, and that was not the case, so he let his guard down.

But, as they approached the backup in the car queue through the airport terminals, they slowly came to realize that this wasn’t going to be as easy as they anticipated. They were at a standstill for over ten minutes, unmoving, with cars honking loudly around them. It seemed that there was roadwork on a few of the lanes ahead that caused a jam. Quickly, they had to make a decision that they didn’t miss check-in with their pilot.

After much deliberation, they decided that the only solution would be that Harry, Y/N, and their baby would have to walk down the strip accompanied by one of the security guards while the other security guard continued with the car and would eventually meet them at the plane with all of their luggage. Y/N couldn’t stay stuck in traffic, her claustrophobia was already starting to make her panic. The fresh air would do them all some good, and besides, there weren’t an overwhelming amount of people walking along outside. Most people were in a rush to get in. They thought they’d be able to handle it.

Poor Paxton was fast asleep, but it was a pretty far distance to be lugging a heavy car seat while trying to walk as quickly and discreetly as possible down the sidewalk to reach the end where their terminal would be. At least by carrying him, if someone did recognize them, they’d be able to shield their son better.

Gently, Harry unfastened the buckles from Paxton’s car seat and slipped him out, passing him over to Y/N without waking him. It was warm out, but Y/N made sure to wrap Paxton loosely in the thin muslin cloth and cover his face enough so that he could breathe well against her chest, but his face couldn’t be seen. The couple made sure to wear their sunglasses and Harry took hold of the leather diaper bag before the security guard jumped out and opened the door for them.

Quickly, they started making their way down the sidewalk, heads down to not call attention to themselves, and following their security guard’s strides who was barely a step ahead of them. Horns blared and echoed around them, stuffy fumes from car engines congested the area. For a moment, Harry thought they might actually get through unrecognized. But that quickly came to prove wrong.

It always started as just a feeling of being watched before turning into a slightly louder buzzing as people, wondering if it was really him, began to mutter. This then turned into a few shouts and calls. He ignored the first few calls until he realized that too many people started to notice. He turned, smiled, and waved at them as he continued. This usually satisfied fans enough to not follow him. But then he saw it. The cluster of cameras. Paparazzi.

They looked shocked to see him, at first. He guessed they were likely here for someone else at first and he was just a bonus. Just his luck. The security guard tightened his gap and Y/N felt a hand on the middle of her back as Harry protectively pushed her along so they could keep moving faster. Still, they were already halfway there and it wasn’t more than they were used to.

However, more people became increasingly aware that not only was Harry Styles there, but also his wife and newborn baby. Harry always had a good relationship with the paparazzi, but the incitement to get the first look at their son was causing them to swarm the new parents.

“Harry, how does it feel to be a dad?”

“What’s your son’s name?”

“Where are you headed?”

“Harry, does he look just like you?”

“Can we see?”

The questions were never-ending and almost too hard to hear as everyone talked at once. Surrounded by not only paparazzi but also curious fans, it became harder to move. Their security guard did his best to keep everyone at bay and to keep moving forward, but it soon became too crowded to move. Y/N held her baby closer to her chest as he began to wriggle and squirm from all the noise, sharing a brief look of concern with Harry who tried his best to remain calm and friendly while also trying to make way for his family out of the ring of paps that surrounded them who became more aggressive with their questions, closing in on them.

Cameras started bumping together, voices became louder, and the paparazzi began to shove each other, fighting to get closer to the celeb. Some fans began to notice how reckless they were becoming and started to yell at paparazzi along with the security guard who was still trying to push through to make room for them, only inching their way forward now.

“Back up, they have a baby!” a few girls screams were muffled behind the shouts of the paps.

Paxton was wiggling more now and started to whimper as Y/N and her husband were being yelled at in all directions. Y/N could feel paps nudging her back, getting too close for comfort. When the security guard noticed, he’d yell at them, but there wasn’t much he could do. He was only one person against dozens of others. Her claustrophobia was in full swing and her heart began racing, breath becoming more of a pant. She felt a tug on her shirt followed by a deep voice beckoning, “Come on, let us get a look at the happy family.” They had gotten bolder in touching her purposefully.

Y/N spun around, “Please don’t touch me,” she yelped.

Lights started to flash in her face and she felt a hand tug at the muslin cloth that was protecting her son. Instinctively she swatted at the hand and pulled her son in tighter, shouting, “Don’t touch him!”

Harry turned, protectively shielding his wife and son, urging her in front of him, fans still yelling as another pap shoved his camera in between them so hard that he managed to whack the top of Paxton’s head with his flash attachment, causing the baby to flail and burst into wails, sobbing into Y/N’s chest at an ear-piercing level.

Before Y/N of the security guard could even react, Harry leaped at the pap, shoving him backward, and began screaming at him so ferociously that it created a momentary standstill. No one had ever seen Harry so angry before.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, eh?! That’s my baby, you fuckin’ dickhead!” Harry’s accent became thick with rage, shoving the startled man’s chest which made him back away.

“I didn’t do anything! I didn’t do anything!” the pap could be heard saying, shrinking away.

A few other paparazzi were taking the side of the pap and snapping pictures and videos of the incident while most yelled along with Harry as well as fans. Harry kept at him, screaming even louder and angrier, “You smashed my sons head with your fuckin’ piece of shit camera,” he yanked the camera out of the pap’s hands and chucked it to the ground, a few pieces breaking off and sliding every which way, continuing to shove the pap back while the security guard tried his hardest to contain the situation and get people to back off.

“Harry! Please!” Y/N cried, her heart pounding in panic and on the verge of tears.

Harry was seething, glaring at the pap who had backed away, nervously, before the awareness that Harry was surrounded by people, most with their phones out, started to sink in. The crowd had given them some more space now, and he looked back to see the concern on his wife’s face as she bounced and patted the back of their crying son in her arms in an attempt to console him.

With one last scowl at the offender, Harry hissed, “Don’t come near my family again.”

He picked up the brown leather diaper bag off of the ground; he must have dropped it during his fit. Hiking it back up his shoulders, he wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist as the security guard led them away from the crowd, fans calling their support after them and continuing to yell at the paparazzi.

The rest of the walk was silent, still too rattled by the situation to find the words to say. By the time they reached and boarded the plane, Paxton had fallen back asleep and it didn’t take long for their other security guard to reach them.Should have just stayed in the car, Y/N thought, getting settled in a seat with her son, She loosened the muslin blanket around his face, but not too much to disturb his sleep. Harry stayed towards the front of the plane, barely out of earshot, to talk to the security after their belongings were loaded.

A few minutes in, Harry could be heard raising his voice at them, angry about how the situation was handled. Y/N winced, trying not to listen in as she kept her attention down at her son who was suckling on the inside of his cheeks as he slept. It was almost time to feed him, but Harry still had the diaper bag. She felt bad for the security, there wasn’t much they could do, and she knew Harry was only yelling because he was upset that his son was in danger. It wasn’t like Harry to take things out on other people, but he had become increasingly protective since becoming a dad.

Moments later, Harry and the two security guards made their way back, and although Harry still looked tense, Y/N could tell that they had talked things out and was willing to bet that Harry apologized to them, too. It still didn’t make her husband any less angry. He plopped in the seat beside his wife with an exaggerated sigh and leaned over to get a good look at his sin, gently pushing the muslin cloth away as he ran his hand over the baby’s soft, fuzzy head. A splotch of raised red skin could be seen forming from where the camera had hit him.

Y/N snapped her attention to her husband and saw the distress stretch across his face and with an overwhelmed frown he said, “I better take a picture of this. Just in case,” and he pulled his phone out from his pocket.

She knew what he meant. Just in case that pap wanted to press charges for destruction of property or assault. If he did decide to press charges, there’s no way he would win. There’s more than enough photographic and video evidence of the assault on their baby. But over the years they had learned that they could never be too careful.

He shoved his phone back in his pocket, and the pilot and flight attendant introduced themselves, checked ID, and went over safety procedures before the plane started down the runway. Harry stared down at his son the entire time, not letting go of his tiny hand that was wrapped around his middle finger. Y/N knew how worried he was feeling, and with an understanding smile, she carefully passed him their baby.

She grinned as Harry shushed him back to sleep when he began stirring, stroking his cheeks in total adoration of the little boy he held in his arms. His heart ached as he caressed the red splotch at the crown of the baby’s head, angry that grown adults would act in such a way, especially in the presence of a child.

“Do you think we should get a doctor to look at him?” he asked as their plane ascended.

Y/N nodded her head, “I think he’s fine but better safe than sorry. We’ll take care of it tomorrow. I think we all need to relax when we get there. It’s been a long morning.”

It wasn’t a long flight to Italy, but it wasn’t calming, either. Y/N fed Paxton while Harry fretted about the flurry of texts and missed calls he was bound to have by his managers, PR, and legal team, certain that videos and pictures will have been released by then. And just like he predicted, they landed to nearly thirty missed messages of all sorts, including links to articles titled, ‘Harry Styles Attacks Paparazzi Outside of London Airport’. They couldn’t bring themselves to open or read any of it, but Harry did spend a majority of their nearly thirty-minute car journey on a conference call with his team talking about the situation and discussing ways with which they could handle it.

Harry cut in after a while, saying, “Alright, listen. I’ve got to go. I’m supposed to be on holiday with my family. Can someone please make an appointment with a doctor out here to look at my son tomorrow and text me the details? We’ll talk about this another time.”

Harry wasn’t assertive a lot, but when he was, it always turned Y/N on. She kissed his cheek with a grin as he hung up the phone and squeezed his hand. His mom and sister were one of the many who had texted them after seeing the news and they made a quick FaceTime call to them, venting about the encounter and reassuring them that Paxton was fine, showing them the sweet baby’s face when they finally pulled up to the vacation rental and ended the call.

It was just after noon when they arrived at the house, and instead of unpacking, everyone left their luggage by the front door and took the food they had picked up from a drive-thru on the patio by the pool where they overlooked a beautiful, private beach lined with white sand and water the most beautiful shade of blue. Harry bounced a cooing baby on his lap while they ate. The couple silenced their phones, trying their hardest to avoid the onslaught of calls and messages they were bound to receive.

After lunch, everyone finally put their things away, got changed into their bathing suits, and headed to the pool for their first swim of the year. For just a few hours the coupe was able to forget about the inevitable problem they were facing and enjoyed their time together as a family.

Paxton seemed to enjoy the water once he warmed up to it, screeching joyfully and splashing at the surface while mummy and daddy took turns holding him and pushing him in the inflatable raft they brought. They laughed at the baby boy’s reaction to getting water droplets on his face and all the noises that escaped his tiny lips.

They stayed in the pool until nightfall when they wrapped themselves in towels and sat around the fire pit to keep warm while one of the security guards left to pick up dinner for everyone. Normally, Harry would feel bad for having someone else get him food, but given the circumstances, he felt it was for the best.

He looked over at his wife, her eyes red and irritated from the chlorine, and the high points of her face sunkissed from the warm, Italian sun. Her hair was slicked back, though that didn’t stop Paxton from getting a hold of a chunk of her hair and tugging as she fed him. Harry’s smile started to face into a frown when he noticed the red splotch on the crown of his son’s head was not tinged a blue-ish purple. It had started to bruise.

Y/N noticed her husband’s silence, and with an understanding and reassuring squeeze to his hand, she softly said, “He’s okay, Bub. Just a little sore when you touch it, but still a happy boy.”

“I know,” he nodded, “Still pisses me off that it even happened, though. I should go see if anyone was able to make an appointment for him, yet.”

He ambled off inside to find his phone that he left on the nightstand, ignoring all of his notifications and going right to his assistant’s texts to see the information of the doctor that was kind enough to agree to come to them tomorrow morning and take a look at Paxton. He did a quick background search on the doctor, pleased to find that she had come highly trained and recommended, and he sighed a breath of relief.

He then decided to take a look at some of these notifications, a little worried about the backlash he might have received. But, he was surprised to see the response of support and even shocked by some of the names that had reached out to him or spoke up about the fight.

The first people he noticed were his mom and sister who both made and shared an Instagram text post that read, ‘There is a lot that you have to deal with and compromise on when you have a fanbase or a following, and one of those things is privacy. It’s something so many of us take for granted, and so far, Harry and his lovely wife have taken it in stride, rarely complaining. They’re aware, just like the rest of us, that being a ‘celebrity’ and the lack of privacy in his line of work is an unfortunate given. However, when the safety and privacy of a newborn child are at risk, this type of behavior can become extremely dangerous. There is a time and place for paparazzi, and hurting a child to get a few snapshots is deplorable. Change needs to happen’. In the caption of the photo, there was a petition link that called for adjustments on laws when it came to paparazzi and children.

A lump formed in Harry’s throat as he read, reliving the moment his son had gotten hurt a mere few hours ago. There was so much running through his head. He felt like an idiot for losing his temper, he should have known not to lash out like that, especially when there were so many cameras out. He was pissed that the paparazzi put him in a situation where he felt like lashing out was his only option. He was upset that he couldn’t enjoy their first vacation as a family with their new baby because he was too worried that people might spot him. He was scared for the future of his son, worried that he’d have to look over his shoulder every step of the way to make sure his son could have even just a shot at living a semi-normal life. And he was grateful for the support of his family and for them speaking out and trying to invoke change.

As he scrolled through his notifications more, he saw that Lizzo had also posted a video to Instagram and tagged him in it. He played the video and chuckled, feeling comforted, when her face popped on the screen, shouting, “If y'all don’t leave my baby daddy, Harry, and my sister-wife, Y/N, alone! They had a baby with them! Like this child is basically straight out the womb, and y’all sick motherfuckers are out here grabbin’ on ‘em just to try and take a picture?! A picture?!” she looked disgusted as she shook her head, “These paparazzi are getting bolder every day. This shit needs to stop. I need each and every one of you to click the link on my bio. Things need to change. Yesterday.”

He went to her page and saw the same link that Gemma and his mom had posted to their story. And that wasn’t all. As he continued to go through his notifications, he saw that he had been tagged onto one of Niall’s tweets a ton. He opened the link to see what Niall had written.

‘Absolutely disgusted to see what happened to my friend @Harry_Styles, his lovely wife @Y/N, and their little lad today. Truly criminal that these paparazzi can do things like this with little to no repercussion. I’m so sorry the two of ya had to go through that. Absolutely fuming for ya.’

With a tight-lipped grin, Harry nodded and made a mental note to text Niall later and thank him. For now, he pocketed his phone and rejoined his wife outside who had just finished feeding Paxton and putting him in a portable rocker beside her to nap, her feet propped up by the edge of the fire, wiggling her toes in the warmth. He kissed her forehead before taking his seat on the other side of her, informing her of the response, so far, of the day’s events.

Throughout the week, more and more people had started to speak up. The doctor had come around to take a once-over of Baby Styles, deeming him healthy, just bruised, and leaving them to enjoy their vacation, utterly astonished by the number of people who had spoken out to condemn the paparazzi and share their experience.

Louis had called him shortly after the doctor had left while they were on the beach. Paxton was screeching on his tummy, holding his head up and beating his chubby fists into the sand. Harry watched his wife smiling and clacking at her baby, completely smitten by the two of them, as he and Louis caught up. The last time they talked was when Louis congratulated them on the birth of his son. This time, Louis called to make sure they were doing alright. Harry was still trending online and, being a father himself, he knew how upsetting it was when your kid was brought up in the media. Especially when they had to deal with the repercussions of the paparazzi.

“Man, it just blows my mind the shit these low-lives can get away with. Please tell me you’re gonna press charges, mate,” Louis seared.

Harry groaned, “I don’t think I can, mate. I broke his camera and shoved him. We’re pretty much even.”

“Even?” Louis repeated, “Mate, he hurt a baby. He’s done much worse than you did!”

“Not according to the law, man. Not really. Besides, he’s fine. Just a bruise, thank God. Was more worried about, Y/N, if I’m honest,” he whispered, trying not to let his wife hear, “You should have seen her. Thought she was going to have a panic attack because of her claustrophobia.”

Louis tutted and sighed, “Poor lass. She's alright now, though, yeah?”

“We’re on the beach, so she couldn’t be happier,” Harry laughed, watching as Paxton gazed in awe at the little sandcastle Y/N had just made.

They had received texts from friends, like Mitch and Sarah, who made sure that they and the baby were alright as well as posted a link to the petition. Big-name celebrities with kids, like Chrissy Teigen and John Legend, as well as Hilary Duff and Matthew Koma, had also come forward in light of the issue to share their experiences of being paparazzi’d with kids. He’d never had the pleasure of meeting them, but was sure to send them messages of thanks.

Ariana Grande had tweeted ‘Sending my love to the Styles Family. It’s scary when you can’t walk down the street with a newborn without being harassed. Please sign the petition to finally start holding those who cross the line accountable.’

Liam Payne texted Harry and mentioned it in one of his Instagram Live videos when asked by fans saying, “Yeah, I spoke to him. Apparently, the guy had bruised the poor baby’s head, but he’s doing alright. They’re a bit shaken by the whole thing, I don’t blame them. It’s-It’s just sad, you know? For all the years I’ve known Harry, he’s the last one to get rattled to the point of fighting someone I’ve met Y/N a few times and well and she was always kind and easy-going. But when you’re worried about the safety of your wife and child, I don’t think anyone could say they’d just sit back and take it. You’ve got to draw the line somewhere.”

James Corden dedicated a segment in his show talking about the dangers of paparazzi and his own experiences with being harassed, including the time he was out with his son, and Harry joined them.

“To see, very early on in his career, the amount of people that followed his every step- I mean, he was only with us for a couple of hours and it got so crazy that after thirty minutes I had to have Harry walk a bit ahead of us so that the paparazzi wouldn’t swarm my son. By the end of the day, we were exhausted. I can’t even imagine having to deal with that daily. I know how I felt about it at the time and my son was older. We were a bit more comfortable as parents. But these two have their first, brand new baby. The idea of leaving your house for the first time as new parents and being hounded by volatile people who have no care for anyone but themselves is terrifying. My heart goes out to him and his family,” he finished.

Dozens more came out of the gate to condemn careless paparazzi, but probably the most surprising of them all was Gigi Hadid.

It was no secret that Harry and the model had a strained relationship that dated back to the drama surrounding Zayn’s departure from One Direction. The two never really cared to get to know one another and there was always some unsaid animosity in between them for whatever reason. He never had anything against her. Still, it was there. So, when she spoke out in defense of Harry’s actions, it was in headlines everywhere.

Gigi was very vocal about it on all of her social media platforms, writing rants on Twitter, text posts on Instagram, and even making videos saying, “You know, it’s just disgusting how celebrities can be stalked and harassed every single day by people like these paparazzi and the response is always ‘well, that’s what you signed up for’. It never made sense to me. Like, why is it considered normal? Why does it have to ‘come with the territory?’ These celebrities didn’t sign up to have their lives picked through with a fine-tooth comb. Especially not their spouses or children. They don’t deserve to be harassed or stalked just because of who they fell in love with or made a family with. A lot of people forget that celebrities are just humans.

We’re normal people with abnormal jobs. My job is to model. Harry’s job is to sing. We shouldn’t be in fear to step out of our house that day, afraid of being stalked or our children being hit in the heads with fucking cameras. I’m no stranger to how dangerous and scary paps can be, and since becoming a mom myself, I’m even more cautious. We hardly leave our house. We have so much security it’s unreal. We shouldn’t have to live like this.

Having fans come up to us in the streets and saying hi or taking pictures with us is one thing, but to have these paps shoving their camera in a child’s face, blocking our way out, and endangering them is something else entirely. Paparazzi need to be held to a higher standard and they need to be held accountable. I really feel for them.”

By the end of their vacation, there was so much positive support from fans and other celebs that Harry and Y/N was feeling overwhelmed with love. They both reached out, personally and privately, to as many people as they could to thank them for speaking out and signing the petition. Their team decided that a simple response, in true Harry fashion, would be best. On Instagram, he posted a picture of Paxton’s sandy feet and captioned it,

‘All Is Well. Thank you. With Love, H.’

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Taglist:

@odetostep @mylittleangel9403 @thurhomish @fallingfordolans @gwen-and-harry

[mymoonagedaydream]

Hey girl 💞it’s my birthday next week Wednesday and I have no friends 🙃so I’m hoping if you have any time/ and if you want to could you write a fluffy birthday for Reader and Bucky where he is being all nice and shit. I recognise how tragic this sounds lol but it is what it is 😂 hope you have a good week and keep up the amazing stories 💞

103 Candles

Summary: You wouldn’t have minded your birthday quietly slipping by without anyone noticing, but apparently that wasn’t allowed on Bucky’s watch.

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Language, much floof as requested

Author’s Note: Happy Birthday for Wednesday anon! I know things seem to be relentlessly shitty at the moment but I really hope you have a lovely day despite all that. And don’t be saying you got no friends cause I’ve just written a whole bloody story for you, cheeky thing. (I moved this one up the queue a little but hey, can’t miss a birthday.)

---

‘Mail call.’

Bucky was already standing inside your room, knocking on the door after he’d opened it. Apparently privacy wasn’t a word in his vocabulary, he’d caught you half-dressed more times than you could count but obviously still hadn’t learned his lesson.

He grinned and held a handful of envelopes out to you.

‘Thanks Buck. Glad to see you’re finally making yourself useful.’

‘Don’t get used to it, cupcake.’

He flopped down onto your bed, lying back with his hands folded under his head. Your gaze unconsciously wandered down to where his t-shirt was riding up slightly, your face starting to heat up before you caught what you were doing and quickly looked away.

In the couple of months you’d been at the compound, no-one had made you feel more welcome than Bucky. He was the first to offer help whenever you needed it and he always made an effort to speak to you when your paths crossed.

Plus neither of you really had friends outside of work, so you spent most evenings alone with him in the living room, doing your very best to educate him on some of the best films of the last fifty years while he fought tooth and nail to stay stuck in his outdated ways.

He still thought Charlie Chaplin was the height of cinema, bless him.

You’d really become attached, but you knew pursuing anything romantic meant risking the loss of your best friend, so you just buried that feeling alongside your weird fascination with bigfoot and your inexplicable attraction to Donny Osmond.

He propped himself up on his elbows. ‘Anything exciting?’

You lazily flicked through the letters, stopping when you came across a bright red envelope, sporting what you instantly recognised to be your sister’s handwriting.

Dropping the rest of the pile, you held it up to Buck. ‘Looks like a birthday card.’

‘Your birthday’s coming up?’

‘Yeah, Wednesday.’

‘For real?’ He excitedly jumped back onto his feet. ‘What are we doing for it? Party?’

‘God no, I can’t think of anything worse.’

His arms folded across his chest as he gave a loud huff, narrowing his eyes at you in suspicion. ‘Is this one of those lady things where you say you don’t want something but actually do?’

‘Definitely not. Could we just keep this between us? Please?’

The smirk that spread across his face sent a bolt of dread coursing through your veins. It was obvious that he was plotting something, but before you could probe any deeper he had his hands up in surrender and was backing out of the room.

‘Whatever you say, weirdo.’

---

Wednesday came around and, as you’d hoped, it felt like just another normal day. You woke up late, shuffled to the kitchen to assemble something resembling a breakfast and encountered no unwelcome surprises on your way. 

Your optimism about getting through this day without drawing the attention of your colleagues was steadily growing but, just as you’d finished cooking and were about to escape back to your bedroom, Bucky strolled in looking very fucking pleased with himself.

He was wearing his winter coat, immediately rousing your suspicion because the crazy powerful compound heating made the place like a sauna, and holding something behind his back.

‘Hey! Happy b-’

You shoved your hand over his mouth. ‘I thought we had an agreement.’

He made a face and mumbled something into your palm, making you roll your eyes and reluctantly let go of his face.

‘Yeah, we agreed to keep it between us. I haven’t told anyone else.’ With a proud grin, he pulled a terribly wrapped gift from behind his back. ‘But you never said I couldn’t celebrate.’

You tried your best to look a little peeved, but you really struggled to smother your growing smile. 

You just hoped that this was all he had planned.

Taking the present from him, you tried to tear it open, quickly realising that he’d used an ungodly amount of tape to hold the shambles together. You ended up having to ferret out the kitchen scissors just to get into the bloody thing.

Finally cracking it open, you grabbed your gift and held it up, becoming instantly confused.

‘You got me a Christmas sweater?’

‘Yeah. When you have a birthday in December, you gotta accept that you’ll get festive gifts.’ He excitedly reached for the zipper on his coat. ‘You haven’t even seen the best part.’

You couldn’t believe your eyes.

Under his coat, he was wearing a matching sweater.

The only issue was that they obviously didn’t make them in his size, cause it was the tightest piece of clothing you’d ever seen anyone wear, including Nat. He looked like a size two sausage stuffed into a size one casing.

You started laughing so hard you could barely stay standing, his confused frown just sending you further into your spiral.

‘What? What’s so funny?’

You just about managed to form words through your breathless howling. ‘You look like a sex offender.’

‘Is that right?’ He gave you a roguish smirk and pulled your sweater out of your hands. ‘Well let’s see how you look in yours.’

‘I think I should save it for Christmas.’

‘I think you should be more polite about the gift I spent ages picking out for you.’

You quickly spun round, taking off towards the door. You knew you couldn’t outrun him, but you hoped you could at least get back to your bedroom before he caught up, locking him out along with the sweater.

It didn’t work.

You didn’t even make it out of the room before he’d grabbed you and pulled the sweater down over your shoulders, trapping your arms by your sides. 

With a reluctant sigh, you adjusted so you were wearing it properly, wincing at the itchy material rubbing against your neck. This thing would definitely give you a rash if you wore it for too long. 

‘Ah, you were right.’ Bucky looked you up and down with a smirk before strolling out of the room. ‘They do look terrible.’

You quickly pulled it off before shouting after him. ‘At least mine fits.’

---

The evening came around and you sequestered yourself to your bedroom, hoping to ride out the rest of the day in peace. There’d been no big surprise party and no more weird gifts, so you were feeling pretty good about your chances, when a series of loud thuds sounded against your door.

You reluctantly shuffled over and pulled it open, a little shocked to see Bucky standing there holding two huge pizza boxes. This was the first time he’d ever knocked before entering.

Eh, he probably just couldn’t reach the doorknob with his hands full.

‘What is this?’

‘Birthday dinner.’ He strolled past you with a grin, jumping onto your bed and flinging open the top box. ‘I didn’t get anything for my birthday back in March either, so we can call this a joint party.’

Alright, if the only “party” you had to endure this year was pizza in bed with Bucky, you’d figured you’d gotten off pretty lightly. You might even enjoy it, just as long as he had nothing else hidden behind his back.  

Crawling on next to him, you grabbed a slice and started stuffing your face, deciding for some reason to attempt conversation in between mouthfuls. 

‘How old are you, anyway?’

‘If you count my time in deepfreeze I’m 103.’

You audibly gasped and inhaled a bit of cheese, immediately choking and coughing your guts up like a fucking idiot. Bucky just chuckled and whacked you hard on the back. 

It didn’t help at all, but you appreciated the gesture.

‘I can see why we skipped it,’ you wheezed, ‘you’d need a fucking big cake for 103 candles.’

‘And an even bigger one for 104. I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with.’

The two of you finished off the pizzas, Bucky wouldn’t admit it but he ate at least one and a half of them, and you threw the empty boxes onto the floor. Slumping back onto your pillows, you quickly had to dive sideways to dodge Bucky’s huge metal shoulder as he flopped next to you, obviously underestimating his own width. 

You flicked on the TV. ‘What d’you want to watch?’

‘I’ll let you pick, since it’s your birthday.’

‘For real?’ This was unprecedented, the two of you had never managed to watch a movie without at least thirty minutes of arguing beforehand. ‘Can everyday be my birthday?’

‘Maybe. If you play your cards right.’

You gave him a wide smile and let your head fall onto his shoulder, adjusting yourself a little when his arm came up to circle your shoulders. This had become your usual lazy evening position, but it felt a little different in bed than it did on the couch in the communal living area. More intimate.

It felt a lot different when his arm fell to your waist and pulled you in closer to him, that’d never happened before.

But you definitely weren’t complaining.

You shifted onto your side slightly, slotting your head into the curve of his neck, smiling to yourself at how neatly it fit there. Your knee automatically folded up to rest on his thigh, a bolt of electricity shooting up your spine when Bucky’s free hand moved to start caressing it lightly.

He must’ve felt you twitching, because he let out a gruff chuckle and pressed his lips into your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds before shifting to rub cheek across your temple.

It was rough and stubbly, scratching against your skin like the sweater, but this sensation was different. It felt satisfying and strangely familiar, immediately  sending you in to a deep, warm relaxation.

Eventually managing to pluck up some courage, you tilted your head back slightly so you were face-to-face with him. 

His gaze was already zeroed in on you. 

As soon as your eyes met, he lifted his hand from your knee to cup your face, brushing his thumb gently across your lips.

‘Good birthday?’

‘Yeah. Better than expected.’

He gave a slight smile and leaned towards you, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips pressed softly against yours. Your whole body tensed slightly, you pulled in a sharp, stuttering breath through your nose as your stomach tied itself in a knot.

It took a few seconds, but you eventually managed to compose yourself, relaxing and letting him lead the kiss while you just felt yourself begin to melt under his touch.

Your arms slid around his neck as his wrapped around your waist, the two of you steadily pulling each other closer until you were both on lying your sides with your bodies pressed together, limbs tangled up like electrical cables.

He pulled away slightly, whispering while his forehead was still pressed firmly against yours. ‘I was lying earlier, you looked great in that sweater.’

‘I’m still not gonna wear it.’

‘Fair enough.’

---

[cursestothemoon]

You’re My Best Mate

Requested: yes

Ron Weasley x platonic!reader (gryffindor)

Word count: 1522

This was my first request and first platonic!reader so i really hope you guys enjoy this :)))

✧✧✧

“Blimey, Y/n! If I had known that your potions essay was going to take this long I would’ve made sure to get my dinner first.”

Ron was, yet again, complaining about how long it was taking for you to finish your potions essay, an essay he was so keen to copy off of just yesterday.

“You can leave if you want, ya know?” You grunted without looking up from your parchment. “Also how do you spell ‘chizpurfle carapace’?”

The silence causes you to look up, only to be at the receiving end of a look telling you that he was in too much of a mood right now to help you.

Snorting you turned back to the parchment, “Nevermind, I’ll sound it out, mate. No need to get your knickers in a twist.”

“My knickers are not in a twist. Thank you for your concern.” Ron said, sarcasm oh so evident.

It had been an hour now, you guys had taken all of your free period and were now cutting into your dinner to finish the potions essay that would be due not tomorrow but the day after. Ron had already been in a foul mood after hearing about Hermione and Cormac McLaggen going to a Slug Club party together.

“Just go eat and you can copy off of Hermione later.” You knew it would rile him up, it’s why you said it.

Ron scoffs at the suggestion, “Please, she’s probably off snogging McLaggen.”

“Maybe if you weren’t a right git and just asked her out already she would be snogging you instead, Weasley.”

Ron huffed at your pointed look but decided against arguing, he knew you were right and he definitely didn’t like it.

The next twenty minutes, thankfully, went by mostly in silence which allowed you to finish your essay. No one was more excited for the announcement that you were done than Ron, who quickly stood up and helped you stuff your books into your bag claiming two was faster than one.

You handed him your bag as you both started to walk out of the library, Ron absentmindedly swinging it over his shoulder, ushering you out.

“Oh, by the way, mum’s asked about you. Wondering if you’ll make it over for Christmas this year? She’s making your favorite for dess-”

“I’ll be there.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice, especially when you knew Molly was making an English Trifle and not just any trifle, this was Molly Weasley’s English Trifle.

“Yeah, alright. Assumed that much, I already told her you’d be coming.”

You were suddenly giddy thinking about seeing Molly and Arthur again, they were like your second family and she was making a trifle.

“Made you shouldn’t come, you won’t leave any trifle for me. Like three years ago, remember that, when you came over and ate all the pie?”

The thought of that warm pecan pie made your stomach grumble, maybe you shouldn’t have cut into dinner for the essay.

“Oh yeah, that pie was great. Reckon she can make it next year?”

Ron shook his head with a laugh, “If you were the one to ask, probably.”

The Great Hall echoed with the voices from all four houses, dinner was well on its way already and Ron made sure to groan his disapproval at the already empty plates of rolls. Lucky for him, you were an incredibly thoughtful friend and only a mild kleptomaniac.

“No biscuits either, bloody hell.”

You pulled the roll out of your pocket and handed it to him with a knowing look.

“You're the best, Y/n.”

“Just shut up and eat it, Ernie Macmillan is starting to wonder where his bread went.”

Ron was quick to take a bite as you rushed to sit down at the Gryffindor table, Ernie seemingly none the wiser that it was you who swiped his roll.

You started to pile food onto your plate, quite hungry considering last you had a full meal was during breakfast. You thought to reach for the bowl of potatoes, but before you could push your arm out to grab them Ron thrust a spoonful on your plate.

“Thanks.”

With a quick glance at his plate you noticed what he was missing and was quick to grab it.

“Ron, you want some chi-”

“Yeah, throw me a wing. You want so-”

You shook your head, “I’ve got some already, mate.”

Ginny and Dean Thomas watched the interaction with furrowed eyebrows, it was odd how you two seemed to speak without words.

“How do you guys do that?”

Dean was the one to ask, Ginny having been rather used to it. Over summer she watched this happen during breakfast, somehow you and Ron would simultaneously fill each other's plates with little to no words spoken.

“Do what?” Ron and you both asked at the same time, looking up with identical looks of confusion.

“You guys talk...without talking. It’s weird.”

Ron seemed to look even more confused than before, “They’re my best mate, why wouldn’t I know what they want to eat?”

“Yeah, I’ve known Ron for ages. We’ve had meals together before.” You said matter of factly.

“It’s just...nevermind.” Dean shrugged figuring he wasn’t going to get anywhere with the two of you.

Ron turned to you with a grimace.

“Blimey, git doesn’t think I’d know what my best mate would want to eat.”

“Reckon he’s not that great of a mate then.”

Ron shuttered but made sure to whisper, “Not after I saw him snogging my little sister.”

You made Ron promise to tell you what had happened later in the common room, you were far too close to the culprit now to talk openly about it and knowing Ron, he could get rather loud when angered. You two carried on eating, occasionally joining in conversations around you but as the night grew older, your eyelids grew heavier.

The walk back to the Gryffindor towers was mundane, Harry and Hermione (busy with Slug Club stuff) joined you and Ron on the way. The new addition caused Ron to grumble next to you, your hand shooting out to pinch his side as a way of telling him to behave himself.

“Oi, pinch me one more time and I’ll whack you with a broom.” Ron said quietly.

You subtly turned to answer, “Stop mumbling like an angry git and I won’t have to pinch you.”

“Fine.”

He seemed to keep his word the rest of the way to the common room and plopped onto the couch, your bag hugged in his lap as his expression contorted into one of a very grumpy old lady as he watched Hermione go up to her dorm to knit a few more elf hats.

You reached a hand out to grab your bag, “Can I just get this ba-”

“Maybe I’m being too forward. I should cool it down, right Y/n? It’s a bit much, isn't it?”

The eye roll you couldn't help, along with the groan of annoyance was enough for him to realize that you didn’t agree.

The friendship between you two has been strong since first year. Your families got along, and you had a knack for being able to understand things from a different view than he did, often offering up pretty sound advice because of this. He trusted you, a lot, and vice versa. Ron was like your brother, your taller, ginger brother and you knew he saw you as another sibling. The friendship was sound and strong, leaving you two to be able to have little to no fear of speaking your minds to each other. So when your disagreement was as vocal as it just had been, he had no choice but to listen.

“Ron, you're my best mate, I love you, and I’m going to be completely honest right now, alright?”

Ron nodded leaning forward, “Get on with it then.”

“You are the most emotionally constipated person I have ever, in my years, met. She likes you Ron, a lot. And she has reason to, good looking bloke, you've got the red hair going for you.” You said motioning to his hair.

He nodded, a hand coming up to touch his hair, “Yeah, you’re right.”

“But you are tragically dense. Just talk to her.”

The conversation shifted after Ron agreed with you, he was emotionally constipated. He broke into a retelling of the time he beat Cormac McLaggen during the tryouts and turned to look at your reaction but he turned to face you with eyes closed, lips slightly parted, and even breaths. He smiled to himself and took it as his queue to go to bed also.

Before going however, he moved off the couch and gently shuffled you into a more comfortable lying down position on the now free sofa. He grabbed a blanket from the trunk by the fireplace and draped it over you, careful to cover your toes (he took your shoes off also) and your shoulders.

With a final pat to your shoulder, Ron muttered a quiet, “Night Y/n.” And made his way to his dorm.

[tangledstarlight]

“Are you hurt?” “No.” “Then why are there bruises all over your face?” For willex

hello anon my love!! sorry if you were looking for something a little more angsty? it’s got hints but it’s not full on, more hurt/comfort really! but anyway, hope you like it!! 

16. “are you hurt?” “no.” “then why are there bruises all over your face?”

sentence starters

tw: blood mentions

He was pacing. Alex knew he was pacing, and that it wasn’t helping, but he couldn’t stop himself. Back and forth in front of his drum kit he went, fingers flexing and thoughts racing as he tries really hard not to let his fears run wild. It’s entirely possible that they just got held up. That there was a long queue at the restaurant. That they got distracted by some street art on their way back. Just because they’re late doesn’t mean something bad. 

But Willie is never this late. Luke, sure. Alex long ago gave up expecting Luke to be on time for anything that wasn’t band related or Julie. But in all the time he’d known Willie he'd not been later than 10minuets and even then he’d always text. 

“Alex I’m sure they’re fine,” Julie tries, but Alex can see the way she’s biting on her lip and checking her phone for the time every time he turns on his heel to walk back the other way. She’s worried too. Only Reggie, sitting next to Julie on the sofa and munching on carrot sticks doesn’t seem phased or concerned about their late friends slash boyfriends. 

Sometimes Alex really envies the way Reggie can remain calm when the rest of them are spiralling. Mostly it’s a good thing. Sometimes it’s just annoying. 

He’s halfway between the back wall of the studio and his drum kit when he hears voices coming from outside, hushed whispers of words he can’t make out but voices he’d recognise anyway. Almost in sync, Julie and himself let out a breath, her body slumping on the sofa while his feet came to a stop. 

“Oh thank god,” Reggie mumbles before biting off part of a carrot and Alex is about to echo his sentiment when the doors open and Alex’s eyes zero in on Willie's face. On a split lip, an already forming bruise on his cheekbone. In the back of his mind he hears Julie let out a gasp, and he’s pretty sure they must cross paths as he storms up to Willie and she up to Luke. But he can’t tear his attention away from his boyfriends face long enough to be really sure. 

“What the hell happened?” He demands fingers gently reaching for Willie's face only to stop just short of touching his skin. 

“We uh, got into a situation,” Luke starts and Alex’s eyes dart quickly to his friend, to the way Julie’s carefully inspecting the split skin of his knuckles and the way there’s a small cut just on the edge of his eyebrow. 

“You got into a fight?” He bites out, trying his best to keep his feelings in check. Luke getting into fights is one thing, it’s something he hates but is used to, but dragging Willie into them as well? Oh that’s not okay. Maybe it’s written on his face, or maybe Luke just knows him too well because he’s quick to shake his head, a small wince as Julie grips his hand a little tighter. 

“We stopped a fight actually,” Willie cuts in and that’s enough to drag Alex’s attention back to his boyfriend, “Or a mugging, I guess? It got a little confusing in the middle there.” 

“You––” Alex starts, blinks once and frowns all of a sudden confused. 

“I’m um, gonna go get you two some ice,” Reggie says, bag of carrot sticks in one hand and waving between where they’re standing still in the doorway, “And some ice cream. Mugger stoppers deserve ice cream!” 

Alex lets his eyes follow Reggie leave for a moment, blowing out a breath as he looks back at Willie, at the small sheepish smile pulling at his lips, “Are you hurt?” he finally asks. 

“No,” Willie shakes his head once, brows drawing together as he clearly tries to stop a wince. 

“Then why are there bruises all over your face?” he raises an eyebrow, finally letting his fingers rest softly against his chin so he can turn Willie’s face slightly towards him to get a better look at the bruise on his cheekbone, thumb swiping gently on his lower lip and coming away with a small dab of blood. 

“Oh. The guy uh whacked me in the face before Luke managed to get a hit in,” he nods his head towards Luke, who’s being pulled away by Julie and Alex lets the rest of his anger fall away. 

“You’re really okay?” He asks, thumb still gently tracing the outline of his lower lip and eyes searching his for the truth. 

“I’m fine, Hotdog, I promise,” Willie’s hand comes up to rest over his on his face, fingers wrapping around until he link their fingers and pull it away. 

“Okay, okay,” he blows out, nods once and shakes his head, “You two are never allowed to get lunch together again. Adult supervision only.” 

“Only if you’re my supervision,” Willie chuckles and tries to push a kiss against his forehead only to hiss in a breath as he reopens the cut on his lip, tongue already probing at the small wound while he pouts at him. 

“Come on, I’m sure Luke will let you borrow some of his first aid supplies.”

[sunlightbabe]

I posted 4,829 times in 2021

598 posts created (12%)

4231 posts reblogged (88%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 7.1 posts.

I added 4,669 tags in 2021

#damiano david - 1104 posts

#victoria de angelis - 758 posts

#thomas raggi - 631 posts

#ethan torchio - 603 posts

#maneskin - 480 posts

#emily.txt - 411 posts

#hello this is a queue - 236 posts

#ask - 207 posts

#video - 171 posts

#anon - 68 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#global success and recognition!!!! in countries you wouldnt expect to see an italian rock band get big in!!!!!! its honestly so incredible!!

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

21 and ethan please! <3

21) A chaste kiss given to each other because they are in mixed company.

Visiting Ethan’s family is always an adventure.

You love them all dearly. You really, truly do, it’s just... there’s so many of them. All of his siblings, his aunts and uncles and cousins- the first time he invited you to a family gathering and warned you about how many people would be there, you thought he was exaggerating. You should have known better, because when was Ethan ever hyperbolic?

It’s another busy afternoon at his parents house and you have found yourself playing with the younger kids. One of his cousins clings to your back as you run around with the others, playing a truly elaborate game of pretend that had you playing the role of... dragon, maybe? One of his sisters keeps calling you “horsie”, a few cousins keep shrieking in terror at your “fiery breath”, and the youngest of the bunch simply calls you “doggy”, so you’re not quite sure what you’re supposed to be, but you’re giving this performance your all.

“Oof,” you grunt out as one of the younger kids smacks your stomach with a pool noodle. “Oh no! My one weakness!”

“Get ‘em!” he calls out and soon enough, you are being attacked on every side. Carefully, you fall to your knees as the kid on your back laughs and hollers as she too is a target of the pool noodle onslaught. 

It doesn’t hurt, but you wince dramatically and groan in faux pain anyways, loudly explaining how they’re taking your power away with every hit of their “swords”. You curl up on the ground, making sure to keep your face protected as they pelt you over and over again.

“What’s going on here?”

The kids stop their attack and you peek an eye open to see Ethan standing beside you. He rests his hands on his hips as he gives his family a stern look, trying and failing to hold back a smile at their shenanigans.

“We’re fighting the dragon!” one of his cousins explains, giving you another whack with the pool noodle. “It was terrorizing the village!”

“Is that so?” Ethan asks, directing his attention to you. You shrug and start to sit up, which sends the kids into a flurry of activity as they prepare for the dragon rising from the dead again. You wish you had this much imagination still.

“Yeah, haven’t you heard?” You brush a few stray pieces of grass off your knee. “I’m the most fearsome beast this realm has ever seen.”

“Ethan!” His youngest sibling shrieks, tugging on his hand and offering him a pool noodle. “Ethan, help us! We gots to save the kingdom!”

You watch as Ethan takes the pool noodle in his hand and tests out the weight, giving you an appraising look. You stand up to your full height again and the kids give you both a wide berth, cheering and shouting about how Ethan was going to kill you once and for all.

“Hit me with your best shot babe,” you say, dramatically holding out your arms. “You get one free hit.”

Ethan takes a moment to decide his next course of action. The kids are nearly vibrating in excitement as he takes a few careful steps forward.

“I’m not much of a fighter,” Ethan explains with a little shrug, and you merely stand there and smile as Ethan leans in and kisses you. It’s short and sweet, the chastest of kisses, and yet his cousins and siblings scream and shout in betrayal. You can’t help but laugh, raising a hand to rest it gently on his chest. Ethan grabs your hand and tangles your fingers together, bringing it up to his mouth and pressing another kiss to your knuckles.

“Traitor!” One of the kids screech.

“Congratulations, you have solidified yourself as a bad guy,” you smirk.

“I don’t know. It doesn't sound so bad if you’re here by my side.”

You want to kiss him again, but there’s no time. With outraged shrieks and truly horrifying war cries, the children descend upon you both and soon enough, the battle is starting again as you and Ethan are attacked on all sides.

99 notes • Posted 2021-09-19 23:22:45 GMT

#4

ethan + 27 <3

27) Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap.

It’s not a party, not in the traditional sense, and yet you find yourself in awe at just how many people are crammed into Victoria’s apartment.

It seems like there’s a group of people everywhere you turn, and it’s both too much and comforting at once. There’s too many people around, people who are talking and laughing too loud, and yet no one really seems to pay attention to you. It’s an odd feeling and you’re not sure if you like it or not as you navigate your way through the crowd, a drink in each hand.

Victoria had said it would be a quiet get together, just a few friends. But people talked and invited their friends, who invited their friends, and here you were, surrounded by people you didn’t know. Victoria had been in the kitchen the last time you saw her, laughing and chatting with a few different people. Thomas had been dancing near the stereo, because of course that’s where he would be, and Damiano... well, you hadn’t seen him in a hot moment. You guessed he was outside, either having a smoke or calling Giorgia and begging her to come pick him up, knowing his dislike for events like this.

And Ethan?

Ethan was waiting for you on the couch. He was an island of calm among the chaos that surrounded you, and as your eyes met across the room, you felt a sense of deep comfort flow over you. Ethan was here. And he was here with you.

You sip at your drink as you get closer. Ethan simply smiles at you and leans back further against the couch, holding out his arms in invitation, and who are you to decline? Carefully, so you don’t spill your drinks, you settle on top of his lap and smile down at him.

“Water, just like you requested, my liege,” you said in your poshest voice as you handed him him red solo cup full of tap water. Ethan chuckles and he takes a small sip, his eyes trained on you the entire time, before setting the cup aside on the end table beside him.

“Thank you my love,” he says, and you hide a smile behind your cup as his hands gently rest on your thighs, slowing sliding their way up until they rested respectfully on your waist. And maybe you’ve had too much to drink, or maybe you’re feeling bold, but you arch as best as you can into his touch, wanting to feel more of him against you.

Ethan doesn’t budge. He simply looks up at you with the warmest, fondest look you had ever seen.

“Are you having fun?” he asks, letting you have another sip before taking your cup from you and setting it beside your own. Hands free, you play with his hair- it’s so impossibly soft, and you’re so mad that he only uses shampoo to obtain such gorgeous hair.

“I am,” you say after a long, lingering moment, your fingers combing through the ends of his hair, trying to decide if you wanted to braid it or not. “Are you”

“I always have fun when I’m with you,” he replies, and it’s not the proper answer you wanted, but he’s cute enough that you let it slide.

You’d be content just like this, you think, sitting on his lap forever, but then Ethan gently starts to caress your skin, the rough pads of his fingertips teasing against your skin, and you repress a shiver as you look down at him.

“Hi,” you say lamely, and Ethan chuckles as he looks up at you and oh, you are so madly in love with this beautiful man, and the way he looks at you? You feel invincible, like you can do anything and wow, maybe you really should go for some water next.

“Hi,” Ethan says back at you, and then he’s shifting closer. You close the distance between the two of you and it feels like everything slides into place. This is where you were meant to be, you realize as you relax in his arms, mouth moving languidly against his. Sitting in Ethan’s lap, kissing him like nothing else in the world matters, focused entirely on him and him alone.

His hands smooths down your side, from your waist to your hips, and he smirks against your mouth to the point where the kiss is ruined. You don’t care. You simply hum and kiss down his face, lips settling behind the crook of his jaw, delighting in the way he tilts his head slightly to give you more space.

“We should get you some water,” Ethan hums, and you can feel his throat vibrate beneath your lips. “Maybe some food?”

“In a moment,” you say, entirely focused on kissing him, mouth wandering down his neck, lips settling over his racing pulse point that picks up as you sweep your tongue against his skin. “I’m having fun.”

Ethan is quiet for a moment and you can feel his hands hold you tighter. “... fine, just a moment longer.”

You say nothing in reply, simply focusing on kissing along his neck, enjoying the way his fingers flex against you with every small movement. You’re at a party, room crowded with people, but you know that no one is looking your way and you delight in the knowledge that this is a moment just for the two of you.

The following morning, Ethan will pretend to be upset with the mark you leave against him, right at the base of his neck, but in the moment? He is nothing if not encouraging of your endeavors.

104 notes • Posted 2021-09-11 03:58:31 GMT

#3

it's friday babes let's all hold hands

115 notes • Posted 2021-07-09 15:49:08 GMT

#2

50 with Ethan?

50) A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck

You know you should put your phone down, but you just... can’t stop scrolling.

You stare at instagram and scroll past some of the most beautiful people you have ever seen in your life. People with perfect smiles, with beautiful hair, with flawless skin. You know people put the best version of themselves on social media, that there are apps and filters to make everyone look stunning, logically you know this and yet-

It’s hard to not compare yourself to them.

You think you’re pretty cute, usually, but with each beaming face that fills your screen- perfect makeup, slim and sculpted bodies- you feel worse and worse about yourself. You feel gross, laying in bed, wearing an old shirt you’ve had since high school and a pair of faded sleep shorts that have seen better days. 

You should put the phone down but you can’t stop. Your skin feels itchy and you fight the urge to fidget and wiggle in discomfort. Do these people really wake up every day looking like this? How were they so.. effortlessly beautiful? How the fuck did they win the genetic lottery?

The bedroom door opens, but you’re too distracted by your phone, too busy spiraling in insecurity and self hatred to notice Ethan slip into the room, concern visible on his face.

You don’t even remember following all of these people, but here they are, living their perfect lives with their perfect bodies and surely perfect personalities and lives-

“Honey?”

Ethan’s voice suddenly by your side startles you and your phone falls into your lap. You turn to look at him, face feeling warm in embarrassment, and god, even he looks so fucking perfect. His hair is up, a few loose strands framing his face, and his deep, soulful eyes meet yours, the corners of his mouth ticking down into a little frown.

“Why are you crying?” he asks you, voice soft and gentle and oh. You hadn’t even realized. You wipe your fingers against your eyes, surprised to find tears, and give a quiet sniffle.

“It’s nothing-” You’re interrupted by Ethan quietly saying your name and something about the way he says it hits you right in your chest. The words tumble out, rushed and with a stuttering breath, “It’s just like... it’s hard, you know? Like I’m just- I’m me, right, and I’m never going to be anyone else, and sometimes that just really fucking sucks. Like I’m really stuck being me and looking like this? Forever? And sure, I could put on makeup or change my hair or wear pretty clothes but that’s all just.. nothing, it doesn’t hide that I’m me and I look like this, right?”

Ethan lets you ramble on and on and you can’t bare to look at him. You’re sure he’s giving you a pitiful look, like you were some puppy sitting out in the rain, and if you were to see him look at you like that, you would start properly crying. Your stomach churns uncomfortably and your palms feel sweaty and you think you might be sick-

“Forget it,” you say quickly, pushing the blanket down. “Forget I said anything, I’m just having a moment, I guess, I... I dunno, I’m being stupid and pathetic-”

Ethan says your name again and you freeze. He shifts closer to you and gently places his hand on your shoulder. You nearly flinch away from him.

“I, for one, like that you’re you,” Ethan starts, voice slow and sure. Your throat feels tight with emotion, because Ethan doesn’t talk just for the sake of talking. He means every word he says. “You happen to be my favorite person.”

“But why,” you ask, turning to face him. “I’m just... I’m garbage-”

“Please don’t talk about my best friend that way,” Ethan says quickly. Your mouth snaps shut and Ethan shifts to sit in front of you, crossing his legs, his knees bumping against yours. He offers his hands to you, palms facing up, and after a moment of hesitation you rest your hands in his.

“You are not garbage, please do not talk about yourself like that. You are... incredible. Knowing you as I do is a privilege-”

“Ethan-”

“and I am the luckiest man to have you in my life as I do,” he continues on, ignoring your quiet protest. “You are kind, and generous and... absolutely hysterical. No one makes me laugh like you do. And your laugh? It’s one of my favorite sounds. Your joy, and your happiness, it makes me feel like I’m home. You are my home.”

You’re crying, silent tears sliding down your cheeks, and Ethan reaches a hand out to cup your face, thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

“Nevermind the fact that you take my breath away every time I look at you.” He speaks so earnestly, so sincerely, and you swear you can actually see the love he has for you in his eyes. “The first time I saw you? It was like the world stopped, like you were the only person in the room. And I still feel like that, every single time I look at you. I don’t know what happened tonight, what made you doubt yourself, but you are so beautiful to me.”

Your breath catches in your throat and Ethan leans in, his nose brushing against yours. “You’re the love of my life. You’re it for me.”

He kisses you, soft and careful, like you’re delicate and might break under his touch. You start to shake, overwhelmed with the emotions swirling in your chest, and Ethan caresses your face gently as he keeps on kissing you. It’s slow and unrushed and you can feel it down in your toes as Ethan kisses you over and over again.

Ethan shifts lower, his mouth trailing down to your jaw, where he still kisses you with a reverence that shakes you to your core. His lips ghost over your chin, across your jaw, down to the column of your throat. He’s still cupping your face, hand warm and grounding against your cheek, his other hand resting on your side. He doesn’t tug you closer or push you back against the bed, he simply holds onto you as he mouths over the pulse point in your neck.

“Honey you’re amazing,” he whispers against your skin. “Please don’t ever doubt that.”

And right now, in this moment, feeling so impossibly loved? You believe him.

126 notes • Posted 2021-09-12 18:30:37 GMT

#1

very specific aesthetic things that the members of maneskin make me think of

damiano david: bottles clinking together in celebration, a loved book full of annotations, sticky notes and highlighted lines, trying on a piece of clothing for the first time and feeling like it was made just for you, sitting in comfortable silence with a loved one on the phone, a world between you

victoria de angelis: cracking open a can of seltzer and the rush of bubbles that fill your mouth on the first sip, a childhood sleepover and the thrill of watching a movie your parents would never let you see, the way your hair gets wild and frizzy before a thunderstorm, holding hands to cross the street

ethan torchio: the soft creaking of a porch swing idly swinging on a quiet morning, shaping clay on a pottery wheel, staying in the theater during the end credits of a movie just to see if there's a special scene at the end, twirling spaghetti on your fork elegantly only to slurp it up messily a moment later

thomas raggi: the crackle of a record before the music starts playing, painting your nails ever so carefully with your tongue poking out between your lips (and still making a mess of your hands anyways), being the only customers at a late night diner, watching the sunrise from your bedroom window

166 notes • Posted 2021-06-10 12:47:38 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[fanfux]

Todoroki Shoto with a depressed S/O

A/N: Two posts in one week?? 2020 truly is all out of whack. I’ll see if I can keep this same length throughout all my headcannons. Hope you enjoy!

TW: Mentions of Depression

Todoroki's not exactly a warm person, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel. You weren't ever going to get a massive emotional reaction out of him, but you eventually learned to understand him and his non-verbal language.

None of this changes when you get into a relationship with him. While he was much more open and vulnerable with you, he was still much more subdued than many of his associates

His love language is primarily with Quality time and things done together. Social activites for him can be draining, so he'd rather much just /be/ with the love of his life. You don't have to be doing an activity most of the time, so long as there's some skinship or general warm ambiance.

He treasures the small things with you. As corny as it sounds, but a cherished memory of his is when, after coming home from work - if he didn't get held up - he would come home and make dinner with you. The routine was comforting, and it always helped him unwind. He'll send you candid photos of whatever catches his eye as he goes about his day or night. Simple, yes, but it shows that he's always thinking of you.

He picks up on things, sometimes even before you do. He notices when you start to slip, or slow down. Make excuses all you like, but don't make them for him. He can see the vibrance begin to die as you slowly start to lose control, or the energy starts to leave you.

If you're unable to function as you're used to, he doesn't mind picking up the slack. Expect for chores to be magically done, and meals prepped for easy consumption. Even if your depression isn't as severe, or doesn't cripple you in that way,or at all, he's still more than happy to take that worry off your shoulders.

While, if you're in an unmoving state (or as I like to call it, slug mode), he'll lie next to you, either messing with your hair, wiping away any tears you might be shedding, rubbing nonsense shapes onto your back, arm or thigh, or with some part of him - usually his head - against you. Expect to recieve an occasional kiss against your temple or the back of your hand. If your love language is something else, he'll be doing his best to convey his love for you that way. Whatever he gets you, he's doing it.

Todoroki's perception sometimes feels like he can read your mind - like he can see those dark thoughts forming behind your skull. While he's not one for speeches or grand gestures, he'll tell you exactly how he feels, in a direct, yet heartfelt manner. He'll point out all the things about you that le loves, the parts he's proud of (even if you're not) and how important you are to  him.

Self-deprication, even in joke form? Absolutely not. While gentle, he's firm. He takes it very seriously, and the idea that those things are even on your mind is very upsetting to him. That ship does not sail with him. He's going to interrupt you or talk over you. Worst comes to worst, he'll put his hand over your mouth with a gentle 'No'.

Celebrates the small steps you make. Defintely not one for pictures and tears, but will indulge with you in some cheesecake, or a fancy dinner at home. Sometimes, it's a long, warm hug. He'll full front face you, look you in the eye and tell you he's incredibly proud of you and how far you've come from the very bottom of his heart.

He understands the need for distraction, but is strict with how, and how long.  Definitely will not allow you to spend an entire day on one activity. If you can't manage a shower, he'll take a bath with you. If you can't cook, he's competent in the kitchen, and is not above ordering takeout if things don't go right.

Incredibly mindful of the media you're consuming. Assuming you've opened up to him about your past or the things that have negatively impacted you, he'd steer you away from anything that might trigger a memory. If not, he'd queue up something positive or sufficinetly distracting.

Personally understands that you can't expect to be happy all the time, and that sadness, fear and anger aren't emotions t run from. You have to let yourself feel things, sometimes. Fully understands that he can't get better /for/ you, as much as he'd love to. As much as it hurts him, he can't coddle you and promise you sunshine and rainbows forever. Life is shit sometimes. He knows a thing about therapy and treatment, with his mother being a long-term resident in a mental hospital. Watching Rei slowly get better has made him a believer. He won't force you, but definitely encourages you to go. He's more than happy to listen to you unload, but he can't process all your shit for you, and there are times where he feels out of his depth.

[driversmutbucket]

Kitten Part VII

Kylo AU x Reader

Here we go againnnnnn. Im not sure how the hell this fic has become so long. It’s going to start wrapping up in the next part. Enjoy friends!

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex, dom/sub dynamic, daddy kink, praise kink Tag list: @reyloaddict55​ @candycanes19​ @jediminddicks1000​ @finn-ray-nal-beads​ @maybe-your-left​ @thegreenmatt​ @morby​ @sydneyssmut​ @contesa-lui-alucard

To start this fic from the beginning, please refer to my masterpost. 

The week slipped by.

Your dress from Kylo arrived at work on Friday morning, no chance to back out of wearing it.

You took the garment bag and an additional box into your office and shut the door. 

You hung the garment bag on the back of the door. Too nervous to open it just yet. You had enough information to trust his taste, he had your sizing, but part of you was still nervous you would be faced with a dress 2 sizes too small that resembled a wench costume.

Exhaling through your mouth slowly you opened the box. 

You frowned. There were 2 separate parcels. Black tissue paper - of course. You almost rolled your eyes.

You removed the first parcel. Definitely a shoe box. You gasped when you removed the paper and opened the box. 

“Fucking hell Kylo.” You muttered. .

You had watched enough Sex and the City and read enough Vogue to recognize the unmistakable embellishment. Black Manolos. 

You stroked the shoe in wonder, marveling at the craftsmanship. 

You repeat your deep yoga breaths, trying not to panic. This was a lot. Extravagant. You knew damn well how much shoes like this cost. You purchased luxury goods from time to time, usually feeling nauseous after the transaction.

You moved to the next parcel, removing it from the box carefully.

Teasing open the tissue paper you broke into a grin. Black lace. A tiny scrap of a thong and a strapless bustier. You grazed your fingers across the fabric, it was beautiful, the bustier was mostly sheer, the boning visible. 

You were seeing the vision, and you were in support of it, chewing your lip as you imagined yourself in just the lingerie and heels. Imagining the look on his face when he saw you in your gifts. 

“Ok, let's do this.” You murmured to yourself, walking over to stand in front of the garment bag. 

Another deep breath. You slowly unzipped the bag. The first thing you saw was the label. You were going to kill him. This was too much. 

Alexander McQueen, fucking McQueen! You knew it was going to be perfect before you even had the whole bag open.

The neckline was an elegant sweetheart cut. The hourglass silhouette, midi length and black fabric exuded understated elegance. You turned the dress to find a back slit at the hem. 

You held it, staring in awe. It was beyond anything you could have expected. 

You hung it back up gingerly.

You sat at your desk feeling dazed. Overwhelmed by the generosity, unsure what it meant? Just- everything. 

-

You had agreed to meet at Kylo’s prior. 

You felt amazing, the dress fit like a glove. You had never worn anything so beautifully made. Everything you liked about your body was accentuated. The bustier clinched in your waist and pushed up your breasts just enough; you had stared at yourself in the mirror in slight amazement. 

And! the! shoes! So comfortable for a pair of heels, so much so that the price suddenly seemed reasonable. 

In a last minute panic you had had your hair and makeup done. You’d be damned if your cosmetic skills were going to let the team down. 

Your stomach flip flopped as you rode the elevator to Kylo’s floor, nervous excitement coursing through your body. 

You knocked on his front door and waited. 

The door opened. Your jaw went slack as you took in the glory that was Kylo in a tux.

“Wow.” You breathed, walking in the door. 

He was frozen in place, slowly taking you in.

He met your gaze, “Y/n, you look—..fuck you look amazing—...beautiful.” 

“I- this” you motioned at your dress and shoes, “this is too much-...what I mean is, thank you, it’s so generous, but-... fuck Kylo, Manolo’s? McQueen? I just about passed out when I op-”

He cut off your babbling by stepping forward and grabbing the back of your neck, greeting your lips with a bruising kiss.

“So you like them then?” He smiled, against your mouth. 

“I love them. I—” he again swallowed your words, his kiss slow and passionate.

He traced along your collarbone with his fingers, “should have got you a necklace.” He mused, breaking the kiss.

“No…” you shook your head, sighing as his soft lips kissed down your neck. 

“Stop being so oppositional.” He murmured, lips still planting delicate kisses on your décolletage.

You huffed. He stood up to full height, eyes twinkling. 

“Accept it, Kitten. I’m going to spoil you. I want to.”

You sighed, fingering the lapels of his tux, “it makes me a bit uncomfortable” you grumbled, “so much money…”

“I don’t have anything else to spend my money on.” He said softly. You felt a twinge of sadness. “Do you want to know why I got you that dress?”

“Mmmm why?” 

“The collection was inspired by art nouveau which you said you loved. Remember, you showed me that work by Klimt?  Also I knew you would look incredible in it.” 

You look up at him, right into the dark amber of his eyes. You were moved.

“Are you serious?” You murmured in wonder.

He nodded, eyes crinkling with a smile, notably chuffed at your reaction.

“Kylo… this is, wow—...I’m really touched. I have only known you what? 8 or 9 months and this is the most thoughtful gift I have ever….” you trailed off. Feeling a wave of emotion that made you choke up.

“Oh, Kitten, I didn't mean to upset you.” He soothed, pulling you into his chest, it felt so safe there, engulfed by his arms.

“It’s a good upset.” You sniffed, pressing your face to his chest. 

“Oh shit! Fuck!” You pulled away, “fucking makeup, You inspected his shirt and tuxedo jacket, relieved to find no traces of foundation.

Kylo looked at you amused. “I wouldn’t have been totally upset if we couldn’t go because my shirt got stained.”

“Behave.” You grinned giving him a playful smack on the chest before taking his hand, “come on, we better go.”

-

You stepped through the main door of the venue. People were milling around everywhere, beautifully dressed women and dapper men chatting loudly, armed with drinks.

Kylo took your hand and squeezed gently.

“What these things are good for is the booze.” He said as he steered you towards the bar. 

You were soon armed with generously poured cocktails. 

“I’m going to apologise in advance for the incredibly boring conversation.” He said in a low voice.

“It’s ok, I have to go to shit like this for the gallery all the time. Keep the patrons happy, fundraising and all that jazz.”

“Probably more interesting people than this bunch.” He grimaced.

As if on queue a deep voice boomed, “Dr Ren!”

An older gentleman ambled up to Kylo and whacked him on the back jovially. “How are you son?!” 

They shook hands, “great to see you again Sir!” 

The man turned his attention to you, you smiled politely.  

“Ren, who is this lovely lady you have with you?”

“This is Dr y/l/n, y/n is the director at the city art gallery.” He introduced you, a touch of pride in his voice. “y/n, this is Sir David Walker, chair of the medical council.”

“Lovely to meet you Sir.” You shook his hand.

“Likewise, likewise.” He smiled at you warmly. “Excellent to have such bright young minds among us old decrepit lot.”

You laughed as he turned back to Kylo. 

“So where have you been hiding this one, Ren, keeping her away from all this malarkey as long as possible?.” He joked. 

Kylo’s hand crept to the small of your back, where it rested.

You sipped away at your drink as they got into a conversation about the stock market, nodding when it seemed appropriate. 

You crept away at one point, getting another round of drinks for you both. 

You came back to find Kylo alone, you handed him his drink. 

“Told you.” He grinned.

“Oh stop, he was very nice.” You chided, sipping your drink.

-

2 hours later you were many cocktails deep and chatting away to whoever was around, Kylo was a few steps away with a group of men discussing the driest topics known to man. You had tapped out pretty quickly, opting for another drink and mingling.

 His eyes drifted every now and then, checking on you. If you caught his eye you would wink. 

-

It was nearing midnight when you came back to each other. 

You were leaning against a pillar, watching some of the guests dancing outrageously. Kylo came up behind you and slipped his hands around you. 

“You look sooooooooo fucking hot, Kitten.” He murmured in your ear.

Oh he was tipsy. Definitely tipsy. Handsy as well. His hands brushing the underside of your breasts.

“Hiiiiiiii baby.” You grinned, reaching back and stroking his face. “Are you drunk?”

“A little, I’m also hungry, all they have is fucking canapés the size of thimbles.”

“Oh god don’t even talk about food, I’m wasting away here.” Your stomach growled as if in agreement.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here and get pizza.” He decided.

“Now we are fucking talking!”

You were feeling rather tipsy as well, your feet not quite coordinating as you wished. You swore as you stumbled a little. 

“Fucking martinis.” You grumbled, as Kylo’s arm shot out to steady you.

-

You managed to get yourselves down the road and into a pizza shop. Collapsing gratefully into a booth.

Because you were both slightly inebriated, ordering 3 pizzas seemed like an amazing idea, because how could you ever choose? 

When the table was heaving with giant pizzas you realised the absurdity of your order. 

“Babe, smile- this is fucking ridiculous.” Kylo laughed, holding up his iPhone. You posed with your slice of pizza, grinning at the camera. 

He snapped a few, chuckling. 

You both did an impressive job at getting through most of the pizza. Glad to soak up some of the booze sloshing in your stomach. 

Feeling less like a legless teenager, you held Kylo’s hand as you walked down the street. A breeze picked up and you shivered. 

Pausing, Kylo took off his tuxedo jacket and draped it over your shoulders. 

“What a gentleman, thank you.” You smiled, kissing his hand softly. 

“Looks good on you.” He winked, as he opened the Uber app on his phone. 

The car pulled up within minutes. Kylo pulled your body into his, in the back seat, keeping you warm. 

-

You unlocked your front door, “welcome to my humble abode, it’s not quite Casa Ren, but I like it.” 

Kylo walked into your apartment and his eyes flitted around. 

It wasn’t small, but it wasn’t big either, somewhere in the middle. The walls were covered in art, well actually, anything that made you happy really. 

“This is so…..you.” He smiled, seeming much more relaxed than you had expected, “it smells like you.”

“I hope you’ll be comfortable here.” You said softly, tucking yourself under his arm. He kissed the top of your head, wordlessly. 

“Can you undress me Daddy?” You whispered, snuggling into him.

You felt him freeze, and exhale with a soft hum.

“Just let me know if i take it too far or something ok? I’ve never done this...er, roleplay” you looked up at him biting your lip.

He chuckled, eyes fiery “neither have I Kitten, but say it again.”

“Dadddddy.” 

“Fuck.”

“Show Daddy the pretty lingerie he got you, Kitten.” 

You took off the dress carefully. He didn’t take his eyes off you. You looked at him and twirled. 

“What do you think, Daddy?” You asked with a little smile. 

“Jesus Christ, come here.” He said softly. 

You walked and stood in front of him. 

“What’s that in your trousers Daddy?” You asked coyly gazing at his obvious erection, before being unable to control yourself and letting out a laugh. 

His hand landed on your backside fairly hard, making you yelp.

He was grinning, “why don’t you put your hand in there and find out little girl?”

You pushed him against the wall and worked his belt open. You watched his face as you put your hand into his briefs and wrapped your fingers around his cock. 

Sucked in air through clenched teeth and met your gaze. 

You widen your eyes, “so big Daddy!”

He smirked. You were both finding this whole roleplay comical, but it was quickly becoming insanely sexy, you were getting lost in the moment.

“Do you think you can fit it in your mouth Kitten?” He almost purred.

“I can try my best, Daddy.” 

“That’s my good girl.”

You hummed happily at his words, getting down on your knees and pulling down his trousers and briefs.

Wrapping your hand back around the base you began to kitten lick his tip. He leant his head back against the wall making a strangled sound. 

Flattening your tongue you licked him in one slow motion from base to tip, pausing to tease that one spot you knew drove him wild.

“Hhhhnggh good gi-... jesus!” You took him entirely in your mouth without warning, until you gagged.

You sat back on your feet and pouted up at him, “it’s too big, Daddy.” 

His eyes crinkled with amusement, “Shall i take you to bed, little girl?” he asked, kicking off his shoes and trousers. 

You nodded eagerly.

“Use your words, Kitten.”

“Yes, please Daddy.”

He motioned for you to stand up, when you were on your feet he picked you up. 

He carried you to your bedroom, your legs wrapped around his waist.

“Don’t fucking stop with this, it’s so fucking sexy babe.” he breathed in your ear as he walked. 

You chuckled, “this is fun, Daddy.”

He growled, before placing you gently on the bed.

He slowly took off his shirt, you watched, you could almost see his mind ticking.  

“What do you want me to do, Daddy?” you smiled, leaning back on your arms. 

“You can start by taking off those panties and showing Daddy your pussy.” he said casually.

You lifted your hips and slid the tiny thong off, kicking it at him. Leaning back on your elbows you spread your legs wide. 

“Touch yourself, tell me how wet you are.” he instructed, roughly. 

“Yes Daddy.” you purred, taking two fingers and running it through your folds with a little groan. 

He looked at you expectantly, now completely naked, cock angrily red and erect. 

“It’s very wet Daddy, what does that mean?” you asked with a smirk. 

“It means, little girl, that you are ready for Daddy’s cock.” he breathed.

You nodded in agreement, grinning as he got onto the bed next to you and lay on his back, then patted his thighs, “come sit here Kitten, Daddy wants to see your pretty tits bounce in the lingerie he got you.” 

You clambered over his thighs eagerly, dragging your pussy over his thigh greedily. 

He grabbed your hips and lined you up, so you hovered just above the tip of his weeping cock. 

He pushed you down onto his cock agonisingly slowly, watching your face intently as it contorted with pleasure, little whimpers tumbling from your lips as he stretched you out. It wasn't until he had you fully sheathed that he threw his head back with a loud moan. 

“Good girl, good girl, good girl.” he moaned. 

You used all your willpower to stay still and wait for instruction. 

“Fuck, Kitten, move baby girl.” he hissed, taking your hips again and setting a pace for you.

“Perfect, you’re perfect.” he moaned as you moved up and down, rolling your hips slightly. 

His eyes did indeed watch your tits bounce in the bustier, hands caressing your thighs. 

Your hands crept in between your legs, seeking your clit. He batted your hand away and replaced your fingers with the pad of his thumb.

“Oh god, Ky-..Daddy-” you cried out as he pressed firmly on your clit and began to thrust to meet your movements. 

“Need to cum Kitten?” he asked, pausing his thumbs movement on your clit.

“Mmmmm yes, yes please, Daddy, please!” you pleaded. 

He doubled his efforts, sending you barreling toward climax with a gasp. 

You came with a sob, chanting, “Daddydaddydaddydaddy.”

He flipped you both over, so you could lie bonelessly as he held your legs to his chest as he thrust into you to reach his own climax with a loud growl. 

He collapsed next to you panting, “That was…”

“Hot.” you finished before laughing and rolling over, tucking yourself under his arm.