#Ian Beames

[vintagewildlife]

Cheetah By: Ian Beames From: The Complete Encyclopedia of the Animal World 1980

[samantitheos]

Going thru my Shameless bts archives and now I'm crying over s5 deleted scene on a Wednesday night again.

[deathbypufferfish]

Cousins! Lots of changes happened at one sleepover. Ahmet came out as trans to Marinella and her siblings. 💗 And Pearl absolutely MASSACRED Marinella's dye job 😭

[a-dotrivenitupontop]

a grimpop shipper fucking reblogged one of my mq posts literally fuck the entire fucking world

[autistic-blazamy]

the world isn't ready for my nonbinary demigirl barry headcanon

[emocatkeith]

*TW: Blood & Mosaic-ed Gore*

so i may have caved in and,,,uh, made a tadc oc lol. was originally going to have one of those "fisher price talking phone" characters but i went with the sea monkey idea instead since i wanted to do a more aquatic themed character

got any questions for zim? ask away! i love answering questions

btw this is what the bottom drawing is referenced off of lol

[cadaverchoir]

WITCHBLADE?? IN THE YEAR 2024????

[onetobeamup]

Shout out to Eva green absolutely phoning in her death scene in casino Royale: go queen give us nothing

[lemoncrushh]

bad idea

short lil summary: harry styles is back from uni and he looks better than you remember. problem is, he's your ex's brother.

warnings: smut, fingering, oral sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms 18+ ONLY!

word count: 7k+

a/n: it's almost 4:30 am and i just finished this lol. no need to wait, right? hope you enjoy!

Twelve years. Twelve years you’d been in love with David Styles. Ever since that day in the middle of your sophomore year of high school when he’d shown up as a new student in your Geometry class. Immediately, you’d recognized how cute he was - much cuter than any boys you’d known. And when he’d sat down across from you, and Mrs. Jacobs had asked him a question, to which he’d replied in a British accent, you were a goner.

But your love then had only been the unrequited kind. He was nice enough. He was never mean to you or talked down to you. In fact, you could even say you were friends, albeit the “at-school” kind, not the kind who hung out outside of school.

And you had been fine with that, for the rest of high school. He’d had girlfriends, most of them much prettier than you considered yourself to be. David was outgoing, popular. So you’d just resolved to being happy with whatever it was you were.

That is, until last year when fate took a twist, and you’d somehow become more than friends. You’d run into David at a mutual friend’s party and hit it off. You could say it was as if you’d picked up where you’d left off in high school, but that would be a lie. You hadn’t seen David since graduation, and you’d doubted you had even been on his mind. But he’d been on yours. You hadn’t stopped thinking about him.

The breakup had not been pleasant. That is to say, it hadn’t been mutual. After dating for several months, David decided it was time to see other people. You took that to mean he was already doing so, and was finally ready to let you go. You’d cried for days, unable to sleep or eat. The love of your life had broken your heart and crashed your dreams.

You think it was Marcie, or maybe your friend Deliah who finally got you out of bed and out into the world again. Though you hadn’t dated anyone since David, you had begun to feel much better about yourself, and realized there were other fishes in the sea.

Going to this party at Trevor’s loft hadn’t been your idea. But Marcie was seeing some guy named Ian who happened to know Trevor, and she insisted you come along. While you didn’t really know Trevor well yourself, he had been part of David’s circle of friends in high school. He apparently now owned a loft in the city that housed a bar. After some persistence, you finally agreed to go, hoping to God David wouldn’t show up.

The drinks were flowing, the chatter filling the room as you stood beside Marcie and Ian in a conversation about who knows what. For the last half hour, your eyes had been scouring the loft for your ex. Not because you wanted to see him, but because you didn’t. And if you got so much as a glimpse of him, you had already planned out your exit.

Trevor had greeted you at the door, welcoming most everyone who entered before making the rounds and making sure all hands were holding beverages. Deliah had come as well, with her long-time boyfriend Shane and they were currently at the bar for their second round.

“Ready for another?” Ian asked Marcie, noticing her glass was nearly empty.

“Sure,” she beamed at him.

“What about you, Y/N?”

“Oh, um, no…not just yet,” you replied. “I think I’ll make a stop at the ladies’ and then maybe walk around a bit.”

With a nod, Ian took your empty glass and you made your way to the restroom. Once you’d freshened up, you decided to make the rounds and check out the rest of the loft. You liked the ambiance - the exposed brick with industrial lighting and chrome countertops. Loud rock music permeated through the sound system, thumping through your veins. As you turned left, you noticed another extension with tables along the walls. Several people sat with their drinks in hand, chatting. Your eyes scanned the perimeter, taking in the various framed vintage posters, and you were just about to turn around when a set of male eyes caught your attention. They were staring right at you, a hand grasping a glass of beer. When you gave a gentle smile, he smiled back, full lips curling up to expose a set of dimples.

He was cute. Really cute. But probably too young for you. While his handsome features adorned a bit of facial hair, he still had a baby face. He wore a plaid button-down, and a cap set backwards on his head. He was probably some frat boy, you mused, barely twenty-one.

You saw him bite his lip as his gaze roamed down your body. To escape the feeling it gave you - chills, the good kind, right down to your core - you thought turning around and heading back the way you came would be the best idea. But fate wasn’t having it as you bumped into someone, nearly spilling the drink in his hand.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed over the Bon Jovi song that currently played through the speakers.

“It’s okay,” the guy chuckled. “I was trying to go around you but you turned. No harm done.”

You smiled with a sigh, grateful that he wasn’t an asshole. As you made your way back to the main part of the bar, you considered taking a sneak peek at the frat boy, but decided against it.

“Hey!” Deliah called out to you when you strode up to the bar. Wedging herself between you and another woman, she leaned into your ear. “Did you see him?”

“See who?” your eyes popped. “David’s not here, is he?”

“No. His brother Harry is though.”

Blinking several times, realization came to you. You’d forgotten David even had a brother. Harry had been younger than the two of you, a freshman when you were seniors. By the time you and David had become an item, his little brother had gone back to the UK.

“He just got back from college,” Deliah added. “Or uni as they call it over there.”

“He’s back from England?”

“Yeah. Apparently he’s super smart, got some kind of masters or something. He’s already gotten job offers both here and there.”

“How do you know all this?” you chuckled.

Deliah shrugged with a wink. “I’ve heard things.” Then she leaned forward again. “No, actually I saw him come in, and I thought he looked kind of familiar. I asked Trevor who he was.”

“Oh,” you nodded. Though Deliah had gone to your high school as well, she was two years younger than you, and you hadn’t really known each other then. You’d finally become friends after school. But it made sense why she would have recognized Harry since they were closer in age. You doubted you would recognize him. In fact, you hardly remembered what he’d looked like.

“Anyway, he looks really good now,” Deliah continued, smiling sheepishly, somewhat answering your inward question.

“Really?” you quirked a brow. “Where is he?”

“I saw him go that way, soon after he got here,” your friend gestured to the other area you’d just returned from. “But I haven’t seen him since.”

Just then, Deliah’s boyfriend came up behind her and poked her in her sides, making her squeal.

“Shane, you dork!” she exclaimed, playfully slapping him.

“Hey, I thought you said you wanted to do shots,” Shane smirked.

“Oh, I do! Y/N, go get Marcie and Ian so we can do them together!”

Turning your gaze around the bar area, you didn’t see your friends, so you decided to make your way to the other side. The cute frat boy was still sitting in the same spot, although he seemed to be interested in something on his phone. You found Marcie and Ian in the far corner, and you waved them over.

“We’re about to do shots,” you announced.

“Oh God, I don’t know if I wanna get shitfaced tonight,” argued Marcie.

“I’ll do one,” said Ian.

Marcie rolled her eyes, then grabbed your arm. “Okay, fine, let’s do one as a group. But I can’t promise anything else.”

You smiled at her, looping her arm through hers. Before you turned, you caught the frat boy staring at you again.

“Alright, we’re all here,” you cheered when you met back up with Deliah and Shane who immediately handed you a shot glass filled with golden liquid.

“Ugh, we’re doing Cuervo, seriously?” whined Marcie.

“Would you rather the harder stuff?” you quipped. “I thought you were a lightweight.”

Giving you a face, Marcie accepted her shot glass and on the count of three, you all swallowed your tequila. You were the only one who didn’t grab a lime wedge, however, because just as you lowered your glass, your eyes were glued to the tall man who’d just walked in.

“Motherfucker!”

Deliah glared at you in question as Marcie muttered, “Oh shit!”

“What’s wrong?” asked Ian.

“Her ex.”

You immediately thought the tequila would make its way back up as you sat there squeezing your glass. Marcie was kind enough to take it from your hand before you broke it.

“Did you know?” you swung to face Deliah.

“Me? No! Why would I?”

“Because you said his brother’s here,” you gritted your teeth. “And Trevor obviously knows both of them.”

“I swear, I didn’t,” Deliah shook her head. “I know it sounds stupid, but I didn’t even think to ask.”

You groaned as you watched David stop to chat with people, a blond on his arm. Damn, he still looked good, too.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N!” Deliah cried.

“It’s not your fault,” you sighed. “I just…I gotta get outta here.”

“Do you want us to drive you home?” asked Marcie. She and Ian had been your ride.

“No,” you argued. “You shouldn’t have to leave for me.”

Marcie sat up straight. “You know what I think? I think you should stay, show him his presence doesn’t bother you. You shouldn’t have to leave either just because his ass showed up!”

“Yeah!” Deliah agreed.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. I do need some air though.”

Rising from your stool, you felt Marcie squeeze your hand before you made your way through the crowd. That one shot was already getting to you, making you light-headed, your temples pounding and your skin hot. Or maybe that had simply been David’s doing.

Slipping past the line at the bathroom, you found the glass doors that led to a deck, pushing them open, the warm air hitting your face as the music was immediately muffled. The area was small, only a couple of tables and outdoor sofas which were occupied, but that was just as well. Running to the railing, you gasped, prepared to hurl the contents of your stomach. Instead, you took several deep breaths, trying to calm your nerves.

Fuck him for coming here! You cursed to yourself. My first night out and he has to show up!

You heard his voice before you saw him. “Hi.”

Turning around, you were met with the cute guy with the backwards snapback. Flustered, you fiddled with the long necklace around your neck. “Oh. Hi.”

For the first time, you noticed he had tattoos peeking from underneath his shirt on his chest, as well as some on his arm where the sleeves were rolled up. He seemed to stare at you again, even longer than he had from his table inside, almost as though he was trying to speak to you telepathically. Finally, he opened his mouth.

“Do I know you? You look really familiar to me.”

“No, I don’t believe so,” you said. “I’m Y/N.”

His lips spread into a charismatic grin, his dimples appearing again. Then he held out his hand. “I’m Harry.”

You felt your stomach plummet to your feet. Of fucking course. Harry Styles. David’s brother. You should have known.

God damn it.

Standing before him now, you could see the resemblance - the sharp jawline, the straight nose, the way his eyebrows perfectly framed his eyes. Only David had blue eyes, and Harry’s appeared to be green. And David didn’t have those dimples, nor any tattoos.

Obviously Harry didn’t know who you were. Deciding not to let your shock or disdain be known, you shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”

“You as well. I um…saw you earlier…inside. You seemed to be…looking for someone.” As Harry said the words, he stepped to your right, leaning his elbow nonchalantly against the railing, his gaze never leaving your face.

“No, I wasn’t,” you conveyed.

“That’s too bad. I was kinda hoping it was me.”

Feeling the color rise to your cheeks, you quickly looked away and chuckled. So he was a flirt. Alright.

“I see,” you smirked. “Sorry to disappoint you, Harry. I was just checking out the rest of the bar.”

“Hmm,” he nodded. “Find anything you like?”

You rolled your eyes at his second attempt at a flirty joke. “Is this your usual method?”

“Method?” He raised a brow.

“For pursuing women. You seem pretty sure of yourself.”

Harry shrugged, “I thought confidence was key.”

Letting out a louder chuckle, you shook your head. “Stop.”

“Only if you let me buy you a drink first,” he grinned.

You stared at him with pursed lips. He was still really cute, you had to admit. And so what if he was your ex’s brother. He had no idea who you were. And you were already enjoying the attention. With a sigh, you licked your lips and shrugged. “I suppose I can allow that.”

You caught the twinkle in Harry’s eyes under the light glow of the outdoor string lights as his dimples deepened in his cheeks.

“Uh, you want it out here, or…”

“No, let’s go back inside,” you suggested.

Harry held the door open for you as you made your way back inside. The chill of the air conditioning brought goosebumps to your skin, but it felt nice, especially on your face which you were certain was still flushed. When you stopped and turned slightly to address Harry, he bumped into you.

“Oop, sorry,” he said in your ear, his hand resting on your hip. You noticed immediately how warm it felt, a spark igniting from within.

“‘S okay,” you smiled. “I was just gonna ask if you’d like to sit at the bar, or did you prefer a table?”

“I have no preference, love,” he replied. “You lead the way.”

After Harry’s hand slid up from your hip to your lower back, you headed for the bar, a bit relieved to find your friends gone. You found a lone empty stool near the corner which Harry insisted you take.

“What’ll you have?” you heard him ask, his breath in your ear.

“Tequila shot,” you answered.

“Really?” Harry raised a brow.

“Yeah, anything wrong with that?”

“No,” he smirked. “Just surprised is all.”

“Hm, well I feel like letting loose. Actually, better make it two.” Flipping your hair off your shoulders, you gazed around the bar. No sign of David yet. You hoped he was nowhere near.

Harry placed the drink order, surprising you this time by ordering two shots for himself as well. As soon as the bartender laid out the row of glasses, the couple who was next to you got up, freeing one of the stools for Harry. Sitting down, he smiled at you, taking one of the shot glasses and raising it. You grabbed one for yourself, not forgetting a lime wedge this time, and mirrored his grin.

“Cheers,” you said as you clinked your glass against his before downing the warm liquid.

Harry did the same, swallowing both shots in record time. Crossing your legs, you swiveled on your stool before licking your lips seductively. With a smirk, Harry eyed you.

“You gonna take that second one, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you playfully rolled your eyes. “Give me a minute. Clearly I don’t move as fast as you.”

“Seems to me you do,” he remarked as he watched you lick the salt off the rim of the glass.

You chuckled at his words. He had you pegged already. You had to admit it was a turn-on. Grabbing a second lime wedge, you took your second tequila shot and sucked on the green fruit, your eyes on Harry’s.

You liked how he watched you. He was more than just a flirt. His eyes told you what he wanted. It had merely been a few minutes and you already knew his intentions. And you were completely okay with it.

“How was it?” he asked, his gaze now on your mouth as you pulled out the lime wedge and licked your lips.

“Delicious,” you replied, dropping the fruit on a napkin. “Good things are worth taking time with.”

“Is that right?” he grinned.

“Mmm,” you nodded.

“You want another?”

“Oh Lord, no. At least not right now. A beer maybe? Whatever it was you were drinking earlier.”

Harry’s smile grew as he nodded. “You got it.”

As he placed another order with the bartender, you took a moment to examine just how attractive he was. While he resembled his brother, he really had his own way about him, a sense of beauty that David had lacked. You couldn’t believe you were even telling yourself that, but you couldn’t deny it. The man was really handsome. You found yourself wanting to reach out and touch the tan skin on his neck and jaw.

“So, Y/N,” he said, his attention turned back to you, “tell me about yourself.”

“Me?” you blinked. “Believe me, there is nothing you wanna know about me.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” he grinned. “Let’s start with why are you here tonight…alone?”

“I’m not alone. I came with some friends.”

“Who are attached,” he added. “I saw them.”

“Oh.” So he had definitely been watching you, checking you out. Noticing you were alone.

“You’re way too gorgeous to be by yourself, Y/N.”

You felt a weakness in your knees even though you weren’t standing. “I could say the same about you,” you muttered, surprising yourself.

Harry’s dimples appeared again as the bartender set down your glasses of beer.

“Saved by the bell,” he commented, grabbing his drink.

You reached for yours as well, but before you could take a sip, your gaze flew up to a couple making their way to the bar. Shit.

“Um, let’s take these to a table,” you hastily said as David and his girlfriend got closer.

“Oh. You sure?”

“Yeah. Bar’s getting crowded, and I’m sure people are waiting to get up here. Plus, we can talk more at a table.”

Harry smiled at you. “Okay.”

Taking his glass, he quickly helped you off your stool and followed you to the other area where you had originally seen him. Sliding into a circular booth, you sighed, happy you had avoided running into your ex.

“This better?” Harry asked when he’d slid in next to you, very closely.

“Mmm, much,” you grinned.

“Not trying to avoid your friends are you?”

“What? No. Why would you think that?”

“I saw one of them walking up to the bar, then stop and turn around.”

“Oh! Really? I didn’t see them.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry shrugged. “I’m still interested in hearing more about you.”

“I told you, there’s nothing to tell.”

“Well…no boyfriend obviously,” he said.

“No.”

“What about work or school?”

“I work…” you teased. “A very boring job. And…I finished school long ago.”

“I see,” he smirked, his eyes never leaving your face. “How long ago?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you said, repeating his words.

“No,” he chuckled. “It doesn’t. I just finished though.”

“Oh?” you shifted in your seat, glad he brought it up himself.

“Yeah. Just got back. I was studying in London.”

“Oooh! Is that where you’re from?” you pretended to be intrigued.

“Manchester, actually, or at least originally. My family moved here when I was a kid.”

“I see! That’s interesting!” Even though you technically knew all of this already, it sounded different coming from him. You watched him guzzle a little of his beer before asking the next question of which you were actually interested.

“So what were you studying?”

“Engineering. Got my masters.”

With wide eyes you sat up. “Damn, that’s impressive, Harry!”

“Thanks,” he snorted.

“What do you plan to do with that?”

“Dunno yet. I have a few prospects…both here and in London. I’m just not sure which road is best for me yet.”

“I see,” you nodded. Then with a grin, you playfully slapped his arm. “And here I thought you were just some frat boy.”

Harry chuckled. “Sorry, did I disappoint you?”

“Fuck, no!” you shook your head, sliding closer to him. “Not at all.”

Suddenly thirsty, you drank almost half of your beer in just a few gulps. Feeling Harry’s eyes on you, you looked up at him and licked your lips. He stared at you for a moment, and just before you were about to say something, he lifted his hand to slide a finger down your cheek. Goosebumps erupted on your flesh and you parted your lips to let out a gasp.

“You’re really pretty,” he said. Or at least you think he did. It was hard to tell over the loud music, and his tone was so soft.

“Thanks,” you mouthed.

Sitting up a little, Harry leaned forward and reached for your necklace. “This is pretty too.”

“Oh, thanks,” you half-giggled, looking down at the amulet. “It doesn’t really mean anything, I just like the color of the stone-”

Before you could finish the sentence, Harry lifted your chin, his gaze focused on your mouth. Then leaning even closer, he took a split second to look into your eyes for reassurance before pressing his lips to yours.

So soft. Clouds. Pillowy. Sweet. These were words that invaded your mind, as you could not possibly think of anything else. Nothing else but that kiss. His lips.

You felt his hand on your knee before your brain processed it. His fingers found the hem of your dress, pushing it up slightly just as your tongue felt an electric sensation when it was met with his. Your own hand reached for his chest, somehow of its own accord, for surely you had no control. The warmth it was met with was intense, and the zealous beating of his heart underneath matched your own.

The sudden way he separated the kiss, however, was unexpected.

“Oh!” you gasped, finding his face still inches from yours. Blinking, you tried to read him.

“Sorry,” he said, his mouth quivering into a smile. When his dimples appeared, you relaxed a bit. “Sorry, sweetheart. I think…I’m pretty drunk.”

His chuckle didn’t quite reassure you, nor did the wipe of his hand down his face. Sitting up straight, you pursed your lips and shrugged. “So am I.”

With a gentle grin, Harry said, “I’m not usually one to take advantage of girls when we’re drunk.”

You tilted your head and eyed him before letting out a loud guffaw. “Seriously?”

“What?”

“You don’t have to give me a line, Harry. If you’re not into me, just say so.”

“Fuck, that’s not it at all! I’m so into you!”

“Really.” Your sarcastic tone was apparent as you reached for your glass. Harry stopped you, taking your hand.

“Yeah. I was just worried you would think…”

“That you’re just looking to get laid?”

You weren’t sure what made you do it, perhaps it was the alcohol or your own desire to get fucked, but when you brought his fingers to your mouth and began to suck and nibble on them, Harry’s jaw dropped and he shut his eyes. You watched his throat as he swallowed hard, and when he opened his eyes again, his thumb between your teeth, you could read the passion in his eyes.

“You wanna get outta here?” he asked with a growl.

“Thought you’d never ask,” you grinned. Gulping the rest of your beer, you started to slide out of the booth. “Just let me freshen up in the ladies’ room.”

“Okay. I’m getting an Uber, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Perfect,” you beamed. Then giving him a quick kiss, you headed for the restroom.

You weren’t in the stall ten seconds when you heard your name.

“Y/N, are you in here?”

“Uh, yeah?” you called out.

Heels clicked closer to your stall and stopped. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” asked Marcie.

“Oh hey, I’m getting ready to leave, so I won’t need a ride home, okay?”

“Uh huh. And just who are you leaving with?”

“Okay, it’s a guy,” you said, flushing the toilet.

“Y/N!” Marcie yelled.

Opening the stall door, you were met with her fuming, scowling face.

“What?” you pretended to be oblivious.

“Deliah saw you with Harry Styles. Are you out of your mind? He’s your ex’s brother!”

“So?” you shrugged, walking to the sink

“So? This is a bad idea, Y/N!”

“Why?”

“Because! You’ll regret it!”

“I don’t know,” you argued, reaching for a paper towel. “Maybe, maybe not. All I know is, right now I’m drunk, and he’s so fucking cute, and he’s into me.”

“Does he even know who you are?” Marcie cried.

“No. And he doesn’t need to. Just let me have my fun, alright?” You tossed the paper towel in the garbage and reached your arms out to your friend. “Please.”

“I’m not hugging you, Y/N,” said Marcie. “This is one time I don’t agree with you. You’re only doing this because you saw David here tonight. I already helped you pick up the pieces after he broke your heart. I’m not doing it again.”

With a tight jaw, you headed for the door. “Fine.”

The Uber ride to Harry’s place was quick. He explained he lived in a furnished apartment for now since he’d just returned from the UK, so you were kind of expecting something that looked like a motel, but you were pleasantly surprised when he opened the door to a really nice place.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked when he tossed his keys on the table.

“Maybe just some water,” you replied.

“Of course, love,” he smiled. “Follow me.”

You stood in the doorway of the small kitchen as Harry retrieved bottles of water from the fridge, handing you one. Thanking him, you took it and quenched your thirst. At least the hydrating thirst. A different kind of thirst had started taking over as soon as he’d kissed you at the loft.

Setting your bottle on the counter, you stepped closer to him. He smiled when you ran your hand up his arm. Lifting your chin again with his finger, he gazed down at you with his amazing eyes. Eyes that spoke volumes.

This time as soon as your lips collided, you immediately felt the need to touch him. Pressing your hand against his chest like before, you were happy to feel the rapid speed of his heartbeat. When his tongue met yours, you moaned against his mouth, earning one from him as well. Your other hand joined the other where they hastily unbuttoned his shirt, spreading the fabric open to reveal more ink. You let your fingertips dance down his pecks and abs before reaching the waistband of his jeans. His mouth left yours momentarily as Harry shoved out of his shirt, letting it drop on the floor. His hat fell off in the process, some of his brown curls falling forward and framing his features. Then he cupped your face, his lips open and swollen from the kisses.

“You’re driving me crazy, you sexy thing,” he growled.

“That’s good, because I’ve been going mad for you all night,” you remarked, a little proud of your quick wit.

A smirk threatened to quiver on his lips before they crashed into you again. Moaning against him again, you slipped your hands around his neck, letting his soft curls thread around your fingers. Though you tried not to let it remind you of David - he’d had curly hair too - you allowed yourself to be captivated by all that was Harry.

Harry. Harry. Harry…

As you reveled in the sensation of his soft lips and hungry tongue, your fingers in his hair, you felt his hands leave your face and travel down your shoulders. His kisses on your mouth were soon replaced by kisses on your neck, which you leaned back to give him full access to.

“Mmm, you taste so good,” you heard him mumble against your skin. “Bet you taste good everywhere, hmm?”

“Would you like to find out?” you teased.

“Fuck, yeah baby,” he swallowed, raising his head to look at you. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

He took your hand and guided you through the living room to the back room, a lovely bed in the center. Kicking off his shoes, Harry quickly lifted you onto the bed. As he hovered over you, you took in his beauty, his gorgeous physique and toned arms. The sexiness was enough to make you wet, and you knew as soon as he touched you, you would fucking lose it.

“This little fucking dress,” Harry tutted, shaking his head as he slid a strap down your shoulder. “As soon as I saw you, stood there like a lost little angel in her little black dress…I knew I needed to somehow be the one to take it off.”

“Really?” you chuckled nervously.

“Mmm,” he nodded. “I reckon I was right.”

Sitting back on his knees, Harry slipped his hands up your thighs and underneath your dress. You gasped when his fingers reached the edge of your panties, but he stopped and ran his hands down again to the edge of your dress. Then grabbing the hem, he lifted it up. You raised your hips to assist him, then sat up to pull it over your head.

“Fuck me, look at you,” he groaned, letting your flimsy dress drop from his fingers and onto the floor.

Laying back down, you watched him as he hovered over you again, his eyes taking in every inch of you. You suddenly felt a bit nervous, though you tried your best not to let it show. His head lowered to your chest, as he cupped your breast and gently sucked on your nipple. Your breaths quickened as the heat rose in your core. You could already feel it tightening as he moved to the other breast, his soft, warm tongue tasting your delicate skin. Raking your fingers through his hair, you secretly hoped he would move faster, just to let you feel a quick release. You reached down to grab hold of your necklace when he lifted his head.

“Oh, let’s remove this too, sweetheart,” he suggested. “Don’t want it to get in the way.”

Gently slipping the amulet around your neck, Harry laid your necklace on his nightstand.

“Where shall I taste you next?” he asked with a smirk. He chuckled low at your wide eyes before he slid his hand down to your panties.

“Maybe…here?”

Your chest heaving, you nodded. “Yes.”

“Mmm, I think so too,” Harry agreed. “But first…”

Sitting up again, he grabbed the sides of your black panties and pulled them down. You watched him as he seemed to ponder how or what to do next. Then guiding your legs open a bit more, he swiped his finger up your center. With a gasp and a moan combined, you trembled.

“Hmm, looks like my angel is wet already,” he commented.

“You have no idea,” you cried.

“Oh, and maybe a bit needy.”

You groaned, wanting Harry to get on with it, make a move. Your pussy was throbbing so badly, you thought surely he could tell. When he slid his thumb across your clit this time, you nearly came undone.

“Oh God!”

“Aw, baby. You need to be touched?” Harry cooed.

“So badly, Harry…” you breathed. “Please.”

“How can I refuse when you ask so sweetly?” Harry laid down beside you and lifted your thigh to rest against his. Then licking his fingers, he pressed them against your clit, gently moving in a circular motion.

“You like this?” he asked as you began to breathe faster.

“Yes,” you replied as you looked at his face. It had been a while since anyone had touched you like that. It almost felt like high school, like you were doing something naughty with the risk of being caught.

Harry leaned forward and kissed you, his fingers still doing their magic. When he slipped his tongue in between your lips, you began to suck on it, earning a moan from his throat. You weren’t sure if it was his excitement that turned you on more, or the quickening of his fingers, but you suddenly felt yourself reaching the edge, the familiar tightening in your belly. Gasping against his mouth, you had to let go, his fingers continuing in the perfect rhythm as you rode out your climax.

“Wow, sweetheart, that was fast,” said Harry. “Been a long time, yeah?”

You shut your eyes as you blushed. “Maybe.”

“Hmm, then I’m gonna have to do that again. Make it count. Don’t you think?”

“Touch me again?” you asked, opening your eyes.

“No, make you come again. As many times as it takes.”

You stared at him as he slithered his body down the bed and situated himself between your legs.

“I still get a free taste, right?” he wiggled his brows.

You chuckled, throwing your arm over your eyes. “Yes.”

You felt his breath tickle your flesh just before he kissed each inner thigh. When his mouth met your cunt you puffed out a loud breath. His lips surrounded your clit first, then his tongue met the delicate bud, circling the way his fingers had. With a moan, you opened your legs wider, running your hands down your breasts. Harry looked up at you and noticed, ran his hands up your stomach and met your fingers.

You liked that, Harry’s eyes on you as you both circled your hands around your tits and nipples. It felt sexy and intimate. When you began to moan louder, however, Harry released your hands and lifted your hips. One finger danced around your opening first before entering. Grabbing hold of the bedding beneath you, you felt your legs shake. But when he inserted a second finger and his mouth returned to your clit, you thought you might come.

“Oh, fuck! Harry!” you shouted.

“Feel good, baby?”

“Yes! Right there. Oh, God!”

Harry hummed against your cunt as his fingers fucked you, beckoning you inside your walls, touching exactly the right spot, urging you to come all over them.

You weren’t sure you’d ever come so hard in your life. Your fingers dug into his hair. Your legs trembled on either side of his head, your toes curled into the bed as you cried out his name and a few expletives.

When he lifted his head and slid his fingers out, you half expected him to laugh. But instead, he crawled up your body and kissed you with fervor.

“I knew you’d taste good,” he said.

You stared at him, half wondering where the hell he’d come from. Obviously you knew, but figuratively speaking…he must have learned this shit in London because his brother had never made you come like that.

Before you could think anymore about David, Harry asked you a question you hadn’t expected to hear.

“Do you need a minute before we try again?”

“Try again?”

“Yeah,” he grinned his dimpled grin. “I know it’s a bit selfish of me, but I really wanna fuck you.”

You couldn’t help but cackle, which only made him grin wider. “That’s not selfish at all,” you said.

“No? Good.”

Fuck! He was so cute and charming and giving. Maybe you’d had a thing for the wrong brother all along! You played with his hair a bit as he stared at you. Then you shook your head.

“No…to answer your first question. I don’t need a minute.”

With another grin, Harry rose from the bed and unbuttoned his jeans. You watched him peel them off, followed by his underwear, his erection springing free. Then opening a drawer in the nightstand, he retrieved a condom. Crawling back onto the bed, he handed it to you.

“Would you?”

Smiling, you sat up, happy to oblige. Grabbing the condom packet, however, you paused.

“Just a second…”

Situating yourself in front of him, you grabbed hold of his shaft and stuck out your tongue. You heard him hiss when it grazed his cock, your mouth then enveloping it. You let the saliva in your mouth produce enough to lubricate his head, and when you popped off, you used your hand to glide the wetness. Then you did it a second time.

“Fuck, babe,” Harry groaned. “That’s so good, but…you don’t…have to…”

“Mmm, I want to,” you said, sliding your tongue across his shaft. “Just for a minute.”

Hollowing out your mouth, you sucked on him while your right hand moved up and down, and your left reached for his balls.

“Shit, Y/N,” he breathed, grasping your hair. “Honey, please. I want…”

“My pussy?” you looked up at him.

“Yeah.”

Letting go, you adjusted your position as Harry ran his hands down your shoulders. “Is that okay? I don’t-”

“Of course, Harry,” you beamed at him. “I just wanted to taste you too before we got started.”

His smile was incredible as he watched you put the condom on. Then he kissed you passionately before laying you back down on the bed. His eyes on you, licked his fingers and ran them up your pussy.

“Still wet,” he commented with a raised brow.

Then he aimed his cock at your entrance and thrust slowly. You could feel him stretching your walls, a sweet sting as he entered fully. With a low cry, you held onto him.

“Feel okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Tell me what you like, baby. I wanna do it all.”

“I’m pretty easy to please,” you replied. “Fuck me how you like.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re so hot,” he chuckled before moving his hips faster.

You clinged to him as he fucked into you, already reaching the spot he’d reached with his fingers. You weren’t sure if you could come again so soon, but it felt incredible. As he moved faster, you heard the squelching sounds of your wet cunt and his balls hitting you. You began to moan, tiny little whimpers at first.

“Yeah…” moaned Harry. “God, I love the sounds you make. So fucking sexy.”

“It feels really good,” you cried.

“Yeah it does. Your pussy’s so warm and wet.”

You continued to whimper as Harry thrust harder, holding down your hands. Your legs wrapped around him as he looked into your eyes. When he began to moan, he slowed a bit, his thrusts sloppy.

“C’mere, baby,” he said, sitting back on his knees. “Ride me.”

Though your legs were weak, you did as he requested, holding onto his shoulders. As you slid down his cock, you could tell you were close.

“Yeah, just like that, angel. Ride my cock.”

You bounced on him a few times before calling out, “Oh, fuck!”

“You gonna come for me again, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you gasped.

“You feel me deep inside?”

“Yes. Oh, God! Oh, it’s so fucking deep!”

“Yeah. Come for me, honey. I want you to come all over my cock.”

You cried out then, doing just as he asked. Every nerve inside your pussy contracted, and you came even harder than before.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed, falling like a rag doll on his chest.

Harry chuckled, lifting you up. “Hang on, angel, we’re not done.”

“I…I can’t, Harry. I can’t come again.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm…we’ll see.”

Laying back down on the bed, Harry still inside you, he began to move again. You whimpered again, not under duress, but simply fatigue. But you wanted Harry to come. For all he’d done for you, he deserved it.

He moved slowly at first, and the longer he continued, the more it started to feel good, until finally you started to moan louder.

“Fuck yeah, baby,” Harry moaned with you. “God, you’re so fucking wet.”

“It’s because you turn me on.”

“Yeah?” he asked as he thrust faster.

“Oh my God yeah, fuck me like that!” you cried.

“Yeah, you gonna come again?”

“Yes, baby!”

“Good girl.”

Harry’s groans were getting louder as you felt your fourth orgasm hit you. You cried out his name as he pounded you hard, calling you good girl. Then his own climax came, his body trembling over you as he moaned deeply in your ear.

“Fuck…” he exhaled with a chuckle. “That was so good. Wow.”

He kissed you hard after you both caught your breath.

“You’re so sexy, Y/N.”

“So are you.” You traced his mouth with your finger before giving him a smile.

“You wanna stay the night? I mean, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“I am…” you said, considering his offer.

“So…yeah?”

You nodded. Maybe it was a bad idea. But you were so tired, you didn’t think you could even get up.

Harry did help you up, though, so you could clean up in the bathroom. But as soon as you were underneath his covers and he wrapped his arm around you, you were off to dreamland.

The next morning, you woke up while Harry was still sleeping. Tiptoeing to the bathroom, you did your business and returned to a buzzing sound. Realizing it was probably a phone, you found Harry’s in his jeans he’d discarded the night before. Curious, you looked at it and noticed five missed calls. One from his brother, David. And four from someone named Melanie. Plus a text from the same number that simply said, Can we talk?

Fucking great.

Hi, if you enjoyed this, please let me know as I'm considering a part 2 :).

tagging: @daphnesutton, @freedomfireflies

ETA: Thank you sooo much for all the love on this! Part 2 is now up, titled break up with your girlfriend, i'm bored. Hope you enjoy! xo

[remusluvr]

sweet escape | lip gallagher

summary: Neither you nor Lip can focus on anything else except each other. content: jealously, established relationship, f oral (insinuated m oral), unedited

He can't but watch you as you talk with your friends. You're wearing the dress he had hoped you'd wear. Every time he sees you in it, there's just no way his focus can be on anything else.

"If you're gonna keep eye-fucking your girlfriend, Lip, then I'm gonna go find Trevor," Ian says, eyes rolling simultaneously and it snaps Lip back into his actual being.

"Sorry, man. What were you saying?" he stammered, hand rubbing at the back of his head. Ian just walks off and leaves him standing there. He isn't completely opposed to it. Now he can focus all his attention on you without interruptions.

And he does just that. He finds a good spot on a couch near you, close enough for you to notice him without being close enough to draw you over just yet. You look over and smile at him, he nods at you, legs spreading out on the couch. The action makes your mouth dry and you quickly look away, suddenly flustered.

He laughs to himself as he watches you regain your train of thought and rejoin the conversation. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as you look over at him again. Your bottom lip is immediately drawn into your mouth and it takes everything in himself to not go over to you right now. He's having fun making you really want him.

He slightly waves at you, barely lifting his hand and his nonchalance is making you want him more than ever. You see the girl before he does. A pretty blonde girl in a tight dress stopping to stand right in his line of sight, blocking him from your view and you from his view.

"Hi! I'm Caroline," she introduces herself, her hand moving out to shake his. He does and gives her a tight-lipped smile.

"Uh, Lip," he greets. She beams, giggling slightly.

"That's a different name, I like it," she smiles, taking the empty spot beside him. Her thighs touch his and Lip isn't sure how your burning stare doesn't set her on fire. He gets an idea, a way to really make you come over to him.

He doesn't stop the way Caroline starts sliding her foot up his shin and it makes you furious. He's your Lip and he's not doing to show this random girl that he's yours. You decide to play just as dirty, excusing yourself from your friends and finding a lonesome guy even closer to where Lip is sitting.

You flutter your lashes and poke out your chest a little more than usual. Lip wants to kill the guy that has a perfect view down your top. He cracks when he watches you lean in to whisper something in his ear and the random boy's hands move to your waist.

He's stomping over, hand stretching over your back to guide you out of this house party. You don't speak as you walk to the car.

The tension is thick as both of your car doors shut loudly. He doesn't move to start the car, idly sitting there staring out the windshield as you look over at him. You want to apologize, and as soon as you open your mouth he's throwing himself at you, lips pressing onto yours.

You moan into his mouth, hands grasping at his hair. He sighs into yours, hands feeling over any inch of your body he can get.

"Never do that again," he grumbles.

"Wouldn't have done it if you weren't letting that girl flirt with you," you huff back, pulling away from him. He knows he shouldn't have but he loved seeing you riled up. It was just unfortunate that you got him back this time.

"Never again," he agrees, starting the car. His hand reaches out, landing on your thigh. The car ride is just as quiet as your walk as he massages at the bare skin. You're glad he doesn't live far, you need him now.

Both of you are immediately stripping each other of your clothes as soon as you step into the house. No one is home as he pushes you up the stairs to his room.

"Fuck, you can't wear that dress ever again," he teases, teeth nibbling at your ear as his hands run down your sides. Your back is pressed against his front and you're completely intoxicated with him. "You look gorgeous in it, baby."

"Thank you," you giggle as his lips move down to your neck. He presses firm kisses onto the delicate skin, hands traveling up to cup at your braless breasts. "Lip, need you."

He obliges, turning you in his grip and helping you out of your panties. Another one of his favorite items on you, a cute black, lacy pair that you had bought for him on your anniversary. He pushes you onto your back on the bed as he rids himself of the rest of his clothes.

Your eyes are trained on him as he undresses. He smirks at you as he takes off his boxers. The way your breathing increases and your thighs press together has his head filling with fog. Yours is practically a cloud with how foggy you are by the time he's crawling up the bed to hover you, hand brushing a stray hair out of your face.

He's slow with the way he kisses you. It's delicate like he's savoring every little bit of it. His tongue explores your mouth messily, saliva sloppily covering your lips. You lick at his lips desperately when he pulls away, just wanting him back.

Lip doesn't say anything as he moves down the bed, kissing down your body as he goes. He stops at your core as he presses kisses onto your inner thighs, hands grabbing at the skin to hold them apart. You think you could pass away when he finally licks up your pussy, tongue briefly dipping inside of you.

"Oh, Lip," you moan out, hands tangled in his hair as he continues. No man should ever be could ever be as good at eating pussy as Lip is. He knows just how to have your back arching off the bed, hands pulling at his hair, and his name falling out of your mouth.

He's messy with it too, lapping noisily at you. His lips suction around your clit as he teases your hole with two of his fingers. You squirm underneath him and his grip tightens on your hip. He has you pressed so firmly into the bed it makes your head dizzy.

"L-oh, fuck! Holy shit," you whine, tears brimming your eyes as he looks up at you. This is his favorite view in the entire world. You falling apart simply because of his mouth. His ego is huge as you choke on your words. All he has to do is look up at you with those wide eyes, big hands holding you down and it throws you over the edge.

You moan out his name as he licks at you. He's not ready to stop when you finally push at his head. He kisses your thighs as your breathing evens out.

"Good?" he smirks, moving up to lie beside you. You turn into his body, resting your head on his chest. You huff, squinting your eyes to look at him.

"Shut up." You kiss him, being able to faintly taste yourself on him. You reach down and he huffs pulling away to rest his head on your shoulder. "What's wrong? Why aren't you hard?"

"Uh, I- I, holy fuck this is embarrassing, I came when I was eating you out." He expects you to laugh at him, but your eyes somehow glaze over even more.

"Well, can I help you out?" you ask, moving down the bed. His hand subconsciously moves the hair out of your face as he takes a breath. He's already getting hard again.

"Course, baby. Go for it."

[sluttygallavich]

Galladrabbles: autumn

Thanks, @millennium-time-machine, for this week's prompt. Great first prompt for @galladrabbles! <3

_________________________

His co-worker nudges him sharply, and Ian looks up as his crush approaches the counter.

“Hey, Mickey.” He sounds breathless. “The usual?”

“Hmm, feelin’ bold today. Gimme a venti pumpkin spice latte, eight shots of espresso, five pumps of maple pecan sauce, light foam, extra caramel drizzle, extra autumn sugar topping.”

Ian is stunned stupid. “Are—are you serious?”

Mickey laughs. “Nah, man. Just wanted to see that big orange head of yours explode.” 

“Asshole,” he says, fighting back a smile. “So…tall black?”

“Well…did say I was feelin’ bold. How ’bout your number, too?”

Battle lost, Ian beams.

[vintagewildlife]

Monarch butterfly By: Ian Beames From: The Complete Encyclopedia of the Animal World 1980

[hayleythesugarbowl]

could I request an Ian hecox x reader where it’s an established relationship and reader also works at smosh!? Ty + I love your writing so much!!! Please take care and take your time :)

Fishy || Ian Hecox x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: you and ian have been dating for some time now, sneaking around so no one in the office knows you’re seeing each other. but when you find yourself in an uncomfortable situation, you’re forced to reveal your relationship to your coworkers

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none

a/n: hello love!! i hope you enjoy this + the way i went with it. it’s a little short but it gets the job done i think. i love ian sm 🤭

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “Hey you.”

     You spun around to find Ian, your boyfriend, standing behind you.

      He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for a kiss.

     “Ian,” you whispered. “Not here.”

     You were in the middle of the Smosh studio. Well, not exactly in the middle. More like a secluded corner. But still, anyone could walk in.

      “Man, you eat a few garlic fries and suddenly it’s—”

     You laughed, interrupting him. “You know it’s not that.”

     It wasn’t that you didn’t want anyone to know that you were dating Ian. In fact, if any of your coworkers were perceptive at all they would’ve noticed by now. You’d come to work wearing something of Ian’s too many times to count.

     But nobody had noticed yet and you just weren’t exactly eager to tell them. That way you were spared all the dating your boss jokes. 

     “I could send everyone home,” Ian shrugged. 

     “You’re impossible,” you smiled, rolling your eyes at him. 

     “Or a genius,” he countered, tucking your hair behind your ear.

     You leaned into his touch, wishing this could last forever.

     Suddenly, you heard the sounds of voices coming towards you. Your friends must have just gotten done with a shoot.

     You quickly stepped away from Ian, leaving a safe distance between you. 

     You felt Ian flinch. You hated it too, but it was better this way. Or, that’s what you told yourself.

     Courtney was the first one to round the corner, smiling when she saw the two of you. “Hey, my guys! You ready?”

     You’d almost forgotten. Some of you had planned on going to lunch after filming was over that day. You couldn’t believe it was already that time—the day had flown by.

     “Definitely,” you shot Courtney a thumbs up. 

     “I’m starving,” Shayne came up behind his wife, throwing his arm around her shoulder. “All I’ve eaten today is Garret’s weird peanut butter pasta.”

     “I didn’t think it was that bad,” Anthony admitted, standing beside them. “It was flavorful, at least.”

     “And oddly fishy,” Angela added, making a face as she followed.

     “Oh that was the Anchovy paste,” Chanse said. “And I liked it, Garret let me keep the jar.”

     “This coming from Mr. Lube,” Ian mock- whispered and everybody laughed.

     “Laugh all you want, but it came in handy last weekend,” Chanse crossed his arms.

     “Which reminds me,” Courtney turned to you, “Jonah’s coming with us to lunch with us!”

     You felt your face pale. “What?”

     “What does that have to do with lube?” You heard Angela mutter to Chanse.

     “You remember, the guy I was talking about that would be perfect for you? I invited him so you two can officially meet,” she beamed.

     You saw a muscle in Ian’s jaw tick as you tried to fake a smile. 

     You had forgotten about that too. A couple weeks ago, Courtney had mentioned one of her friends who had just moved to the area. She kept going on about how he was kind and funny and something about your signs being compatible. 

     You knew Courtney had no idea that you and Ian were in relationship, otherwise she definitely wouldn’t be trying to set you up with another guy.

     You had panicked in trying to cover up your’s and Ian’s relationship and told her that you’d love to go out with him sometime.   You kinda hadn’t thought anything would actually come of it. 

    “Court, I don’t know,” You started. “Maybe some other time or—”

     “It’s already done,” she said, “Trust me, I wouldn’t set you up with anyone I didn’t think you would hit it off with immediately.”

     There was nothing you could do but smile and say, “Alright.”

     You couldn’t tell her why you suddenly had changed your mind about wanting to go out with her friend. Not without revealing your secret relationship. And you couldn’t not go to the lunch, not without raising everyone’s suspicions. 

     You looked at Ian and he shrugged. Anthony caught your eye and he gave you a reassuring smile.

     He was the only one at Smosh that knew about you and Ian. Being Ian’s best friend he said he just knew these things.

     That, and he’d caught you one time in the break room. 

     “Well, yay!” Courtney exclaimed. “Let’s go then.”

     All of you began walking towards the door. You hung back so you could talk to Ian without anyone hearing your conversation. 

     “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

     “Hey, it’s not your fault,” he said, letting his fingers brush yours as you walked. “Just, you know, be really repulsive so he doesn’t want to go out with you.”

     You chuckled, “I’ll try my best. Where are some of those garlic fries when you need them?”

     You grabbed Ian’s hand, linking your fingers together, safe behind everyone else.    

     Anthony turned around, smiling at the two of you. 

     You took a deep breath, looking at Ian, and praying you could get through this lunch unscathed. 

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

      “Ok, is it just me, or does everything taste like fish?” Angela asked, dipping a fry in ketchup and holding it out in front of her.

     “It’s just you,” You took the fry out of her hand, popping it into your mouth.

      You sat at a table, an array of food and drinks atop it, Ian on one side of you and Jonah on the other.

      Of course it had worked out that way. 

      Jonah had tried to talk to you throughout the whole lunch—why wouldn’t he? as far as he knew this was supposed to be a date?—and you had tried to act as politely disinterested as possible.

     Now, he turned to you, asking, “So, are you more of a ketchup or a mustard  person?”

     “Um, I like both,” you answered. “Depends on what I’m eating.”

     “Me, I can’t stand mustard,” the man said, “Not since the shark incident of 4th grade.”

     He began telling you the story and you promptly spaced out. You looked across the table. Shayne and Courtney were deep in a conversation and Angela was putting fries in her mouth and imitating a walrus to an annoyed Chanse. 

     Next to you, Ian was talking to Anthony in a low voice. 

     “And so anyways, needless to say I don’t where orange pants on Tuesday’s anymore,” Jonah was saying. 

     You nodded, realizing you’d missed most of whatever he was saying. 

     You turned to Ian. He smiled at you and grabbed your hand under the table. You looked round to make sure no one had seen the exchange.

     But everyone was fully engrossed in their conversations. Except for the man next to you.

     “So,” he started, and you gave him credit for trying to make conversation, even as you were practically ignoring him, so as not to give him the wrong idea. “Do you come to this place often?”

     “First time I’ve been,” you said. “But the fries are killer, I may have to come back.”

     “Maybe we could come back together,” he answered. 

     You felt Ian grip your hand tighter under the table.

     “Oh,” you fumbled for words. “Maybe. But I’m going to be pretty busy with work for a while. You might want to go with someone else, no use waiting on me.”

     “And if I want to wait on you?” He almost whispered. 

     “I’m flattered,” you managed. “But I’m just not really looking to date right—”

     “Courtney told me you were looking for a serious relationship,” Jonah accused.

     Of course she had. You had basically told her as much.

     “Courtney may have gotten the wrong idea,” you said, “I’m not really interested in a relationship, of any kind, at the moment.”

     “What?” Courtney asked. She must have heard her name and now was waiting for a response. The whole table was, it looked like.

     “I lied,” you said. “I’m not looking to date—I can’t date.”

     “Why not?” 

     You took a deep breath. “Jonah, you seem like a great—”

     If not a little pushy

     “—person, but I can’t go out with you. With anyone. Because…”

     You looked to Ian for help, nodding ever- so-slightly. He smiled back at you, as if to say go for it. You watched as everyone’s eyes were on you. Now was a good a time as any.

     “Because I’m already seeing someone,”you blurted out.

     “Oh!” Courtney exclaimed. “Well, that’s great! Can I ask who?”

     “He lives kinda far away,” Anthony interrupted quickly, looking at you. “Right, (Y/n)? You probably wouldn’t—”

     You shook your head, silently thanking him for being willing to help, but knowing you might as well spill the beans now.

     “I’m—” You stared, but Ian beat you to it.

     “It’s me,” Ian said. “(Y/n) is dating me.”

     Everyone’s shocked expressions moved back and forth between you and Ian.

     He lifted your linked hands from under the table, as if it was some kind of proof. You supposed it was.

     “That’s right,” Ian said, pointing at you and looking around at all of your friends. “I’m the lucky guy who gets to get with this.”

     “We were waiting for a good time to tell you guys,” you said, rolling your eyes at Ian. “And, surprise!”

     “You’re dating?” Anthony over-dramatized. “This is news to me!”

     “Anthony, shut up, you knew the whole time,” Ian waved him off.

     “Wow,” Shayne ran a hand through his hair. “Congratulations you guys. I have like four—no, five!—jokes I could—”

     You raised an eyebrow at him.

     “Later,” he corrected, leaning back in his chair as Courtney patted his arm. “It can wait till later.”

     “I had no idea,” Courtney turned to you. “I totally didn’t mean to encourage you to cheat.”

     “I know,” you assured her.

     “Yeah, well, I’m going to take off,” Jonah said, standing up. “Later Courtney. Nice meeting you (Y/n).”

     “You know, I’m not sure I liked him,” Chanse crossed his arms. 

     He left the table and Courtney leaned in. “You know, the more I think about it, the more I’m starting to feel like you’re not perfect for each other.”

     Your whole table burst into laughter, before quieting down again.

     You turned to face Ian. You felt lighter than you had in a while. As fun as it was sneaking around, it would be a lot more fun not having to hide your relationship from your friends. 

     “So,” you started.

     “So,” Ian agreed.

     “I think there’s only one thing left to do,” you told him. 

     “Eat Jonah’s food?” Ian joked.

     But you just shook your head, leaning in and kissing him on the lips.

     Your friends whooped and hollered, enjoying the moment with you. 

     You pulled away from Ian gently, his arm still around your shoulder. 

     You loved Ian so much. 

     And you thought your coworkers reaction was something? Wait until the fans found out. 

     Because you would tell them—in due time. In fact, you had all the time in the world. Right now, you just let yourself enjoy this moment, surrounded by people you love.

     “Okay, taste this celery,” Angela said, as she held out the stalk. You’d almost forgotten she was there—she had been uncharacteristically quiet this whole time.

     “You can’t tell me it doesn’t taste fishy!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ ahh hope you enjoyed my babes 💋 stay tuned for another ian fic coming soon!!

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

"Yevy, dinner!" Ian called. The table was set for three since Lana was out and did not disclose what she was doing or where she was going.

He made a pot of steaming hot spaghetti, setting it down carefully in the middle of the table. Mickey grabbed a beer for both of them, his stomach rumbling. He was fuckin' starving.

There was the sound of heels digging into the floor, and there came their son, beaming. "I'm here, Een!" Yevy announced.

"Ay, no running in the house," Mickey scolded. "How many times we gotta tell you that?"

"But you said you didn't wanna see me run and you didn't," Yev argued with all the logic of a little kid.

Ian cracked a grin which he tried to hide. Mickey huffed through his nose. Fuckin' smartass.

"Sit down on the damn chair."

For a five year old, Yev looked very smug. "Een, did I win?" He did a poor whisper that Mickey heard clearly.

Ian stifled his laughter at the unimpressed look Mickey was giving them both. Shoulda known he'd get ganged up on by his boyfriend and son.

"Come here," Ian picked Yev up, holding him close. "You know, you're my favorite Milkovich but you can't tell your daddy or Aunt Mandy, okay?" He said in a stage whisper.

"Okay," Yev giggled. Mickey would deny it, and start throwing some punches around if somebody said otherwise, but it was kinda nice...or whatever to see the kid and Ian getting along like that.

Some part of him sorta wished he could bond with the kid that easily.

Ian kissed him on the head, setting him back down. Yev got up on the chair. "I'm hungry." 

"I'm glad, but you have to be careful. It's hot," Ian advised, scooping some out for Yev onto a plate.

"Okay," Yev chirped.

"Mandy still working?" Ian asked, one hand on Mickey's knee.

"Yeah. Said she'll be back later."

"I'll save her a plate," Ian said.

"Why? She can make herself a damn sandwich or something," Mickey shrugged.

"Mickey," Ian rolled his eyes. He was going to say more, Mickey knew it, but then a sudden shriek from Yev had their heads turning rapidly in his direction.

He must have touched the bottom part of the plate where it was the hottest. Yev burst into tears, holding his hurt finger close to him.

"Oh, Buddy," Ian was on it. He tried to get Yev to show him but he was crying too hard and didn't want anyone else touching it. "Can I have a look at it, Yevy?"

Yev shook his head. Mickey didn't feel like feeling so useless, so he tried to help.

"Ay, let Ian have a look."

But then something unexpected happened; Yev didn't turn to Ian for comfort like he usually did. Instead, he launched himself into Mickey's arms, his face burrowing in his shoulder.

It caught him off guard. Surprised Ian too, but he recovered faster.

"Daddy, it hurts!" Yev sobbed.

Mickey hesitantly rubbed his back. "Yeah," he said lamely, "it will for a bit."

He really wasn't sure what to fucking do. He didn't know how to handle the kid, and it wasn't helping that Ian was making those damn doe eyes.

"You're doing so good, Mick," Ian said softly.

Good? Mickey barely did anything.

"Just keep holding him. He'll be okay. We'll just have to run some water over it."

Ian was always doing that, trying to encourage him when it came to Yev. It was hard to believe. Mickey just wasn't father material. Not like he'd ever had anyone to show him what a good one looked like.

Maybe he could try.

"You're, uh, okay," Mickey muttered. "You're fine, kid. I gotcha."

It took a couple of minutes for Yev to stop crying. A couple minutes of Mickey murmuring shit he didn't even know was helping or not.

By that time, he was somewhat calmed down, besides his red-rimmed eyes and tear tracks on his cheeks. Mickey didn't know why the sight made him have this weird pang in his gut.

"You gotta watch next time, okay?" Mickey said, doing his best to keep his voice gentle like Ian would. "Ian told you it was hot."

Yev had his head leaning against his dad's chest. "I know," he sniffled. "I didn't mean to."

Those four little words brought Mickey back to when he was a little kid looking for attention and approval from Terry. He'd said those words, usually after an accident of some sort, but it never helped. If anything, it seemed to enrage Terry even more.

It wasn't the life he wanted for Yev. He wasn't sure how he felt about the little fucker yet, maybe there was some part of him that did love him, but the fucked up way he'd been conceived still haunted Mickey and made it really fucking hard to bond with him the way he was 'supposed' to.

"Yeah," Mickey said quietly. He smoothed down his son's unruly hair. "Yeah, I know. You, uh, wanna try eating again?"

Yev gripped his shirt. "I wanna stay here."

"You wanna sit on your dad's lap?" Ian said with the biggest smile on his face. Yev nodded, peeking up at Mickey as if he was worried he'd be forced off.

It made something warm come alive in Mickey.

"You really want to?"

Yev nodded again.

Mickey looked at Ian, a bit of a frantic gleam in his eyes because what the fuck should he say to that?

His boyfriend just smiled in return, letting this next move be Mickey's choice and not his own.

And well, fuck it.

Mickey felt weird about it, letting him stay there and eat like that, but that's what he did. He kept one arm around Yev so he wouldn't fall, that warm sensation returning when Yev leaned back against him in contentment.

[run-clever-boy]

Stolen Glances Pt. 1 - Ian Malcolm

@toomanybandstocare - thank you for the wonderful prompt!! Totally taking you up on it [Prompt Here]

Professor!Ian Malcolm x Student of Professor!Fem!Reader

Warnings: None! (Wine?)

Summary: Your father invites his colleague over for dinner and he turns out very different than you expected.

“Dr. Y/L/N!” The man said, walking into the room confidently with a bottle of wine in his hand.

“Professor Malcolm! A grand entrance as always!” You hear your father say from across the hall. You put down your book and walk into the kitchen of your home where your father and- who you were assuming was- Dr. Malcolm pouring wine.

Dr. Malcolm was an interesting man for sure, however his appearance was not what you first noticed. He had a commanding presence, but not threatening. His confidence and charisma radiated off of him. He seemed to know your father well enough to throw out some simple work anecdotes, but nothing of any more substance.

Your father finally noticed your presence in the kitchen and gestured you into the room further.

“My goodness, excuse my manners Ian! This is my daughter, Y/n” Your father says cheerfully. “Y/n, this is Dr. Ian Malcolm, a colleague of mine!”

You reach out and shake his hand firmly and he gives you a small nod. “She happens to be in your particular field of study I believe, Ian!” Your father chimes in.

You turn toward him. “What field of study do you teach, Doctor?”

“I am a man of theoretical mathematics, more specifically… uh.. the amazing possibility of.. um.. chaos theory!” He smiles brightly “Do you happen to be a student of.. uh.. theoretical math Y/n?”

“I’m actually not very familiar with theoretical math, however I am interested in the theories surrounding it. Currently, I’m pursuing the study of general, or to you more practical, mathematics at the university” You reply. “So you study the work of Edward Lorenz?”

He looked stunned for a moment. He had barely known anyone interested in chaos theory in his lifetime, and an undergraduate student was talking about Edward Lorenz, the inventor of the theory he bases his life’s work on. He practically grinned from ear to ear as he looked you up and down to evaluate you.

“See Ian, I told you she was something special” Your father said, beaming with pride. You put on a faux innocent expression and simply said “What?”. Then you made eye contact with the professor.

Just then is when the weight of his appearance hit you. His eyes bored holes in yours, sparkling with curiosity. He was dressed all in black attire, a button down and slacks from work you were assuming, except the top few buttons on his shirt were undone and his sleeves were rolled up. You could see the chain he was wearing around his neck under his shirt and the many rings he had. His dark framed glasses slid down on his nose so you were looking right at him, his dark curly hair hiding none of his face.

Your faux innocence faltered severely, causing a shy smile and a large blush to creep up on your cheeks as you broke eye contact and looked down at your shoes. You heard him chuckle slightly from in front of you and then finally raised your head back up to look at your father.

“So,” you said “what’s for dinner?”

“Steak dinner tonight Y/n, only the best when we have guests over!” He laughed heartily.

“Please, don’t go through trouble for me-“ Malcolm started

“Nonsense!” Your father interrupted. “We have to celebrate anyway, dear Y/n is starting her last year of classes before she is off to graduate school this week as well, it’s no trouble at all!”

“Congratulations!” Professor Malcolm said looking over at you again. “That’s a big achievement to make it this far.”

“Well thank you, Dr. Malcolm. I got my schedule today and I think you will be pleased to hear there may be a theoretical mathematics course on my roster. My father said he wanted to go over it with me anyways tonight.”

He looked you straight in the eyes again and your heart sped up. It was difficult to keep eye contact with him for a long time. He was a man that practically screamed intelligence and power, and for the first time in your life you couldn’t get enough of it. The magnetism alone took you completely by surprise.

“Well don’t just stand there! Dinner’s about ready, why don’t you go get your roster from your room and bring it down here for afterwards.” Your father suggested.

“Happy to, be right back.” You said and you swiftly exited the room.

You went to your room and grabbed the Manila envelope off of your bed. Y/N Y/L/N was printed in big bold letters on the front. You turned and exited your room to walk swiftly through the hallways back to the kitchen. You suddenly saw a shadow round the corner just before you bumped into it and jumped back, startled.

“I’m so sorry, truly, I.. uh.. apologize” You hear, realizing it’s only the professor you nearly walked into.

“No worries at all sir, I just got startled” You say with a breath of relief.

“No need to call me sir, Y/n. Dr. Malcolm is fine, but please just call me Ian, if you’re more uh comfortable with that.” He said with a smirk playing on his lips as he pushed his glasses up.

“Well Dr. Mal- sorry, Ian, thank you for coming.”

“Please is mine. Your father sent me to get wine glasses, do you uh know where those might be?” He asked, leaning against the wall he was next to.

“First cabinet down this hallway, there should be 3 perfectly clean glasses on the left.” You replied.

“Thank you, uh, very much”

You make your way to the kitchen and meet your father’s giddy smile.

“What do you think of him?” Your father says.

“He seems intelligent, good humor I suppose.” You put forward attempt a nonchalant tone. “He’s quite the personality”

“He may be your professor someday Y/n! Wouldn’t that be lovely!” You hear him giggle. Your father was always happy-go-lucky, but he always seemed especially happy when company came over.

“All good things I hope?” You hear from behind you.

You turn to face the voice that rattled you. You discover Ian leaning against the door frame with three glasses in his hands. His glasses slide down his nose and you look into his eyes through them, having to look up to be able to see his tall frame. He flashes you a wink when you linger on him a little too long and your face heats up wildly.

“Always” You hear your father say.

You take the glasses from him and set them on the counter next to the bottle of wine he brought over. You feel heat rise up from behind you as Ian reaches over you to grab the bottle of wine and uncork it. You have seriously never not been able to control your impulses and thoughts, but something about him breaks down every barrier.

~~~▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄~~~

You get through the delicious dinner with nothing more than slight glances over the table and his occasional smirk. You got to discuss some theory with him, which was a great experience. Discussions of the major influences of current mathematics, difference in theoretical vs. practical statistics, other things you had been learning and studying for your many years of university.

You finally got to discuss the schedule for your next year of classes with your father, but he insisted that Dr. Malcolm stay to give you advice for your last semester. It wasn’t a horrible idea in concept, actually you would’ve normally appreciated the opportunity, but the man in question was driving you crazy and you couldn’t understand why. While him leaving meant you would probably never see him again so you could focus, you really wanted him to stay. No one had ever made you blush like he did and you wanted to get to the bottom of why, Even if it involved getting a drink or two with him.

“Euclidean Geometry with a Dr. Hack, Probability in Statistics III with a Dr. Brown, and-“ Your father paused “Application of Chaos Theory with our very own Dr. Ian Malcolm! What a coincidence!” You father beamed out with joy, lightly tapping you on the arm.

“Well you will be one of my most interesting, uh, students, Y/n.” He said, looking you in the eye. “I’ll be seeing more of you then?” He added, leaning in.

“Let’s see where it goes, Dr. Malcolm” You say, bolder than you meant which immediately causes you to shrink back. He gives you an all knowing smile, looking right through you.

For once, you were excited for school to start again.

Tags from the comments of the prompt post: @melonpire @datrie @druigswh0ree

[just-some-random-blogger]

Edge Of Ever After | 5

Part 1 2 3 4

Sandor runs his fingers down my spine and sighs, "everything I ever touch goes to shit." He grabs my hip and pulls me close. I turn to him and nestle my face into his chest. He traps me in his arms, "but you... you turn my shit into gold."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, mentions of pregnancy/fertility issues, sunshine x grump, enemies to lovers (to enemies ? HAHA), slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, horrible communication, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: im updating this on here solely because of @thatawkwardlittlefangirl's reblogs n tags. hi cutie i see you. i hope you enjoy!!! you reminded me i have to finish this story and i swear i will T_T. | cross posted on ao3

"W-where are you going?"

"To find someone to bring my things downstairs," I huff as I gather my skirts and head for the door.

"I can bring them down!" he urges, making me turn to him as he grabs the bags and picks them from the floor. Sandor slings the satchels on him and grabs up the rest, looking at me for further instruction. I face front and exit the room. I feel him follow closely after me.

Once I get down, I am met with a busy first floor. I dawns on me at this moment that I probably looked distressed and teary eyed. I wipe my face and fix my hair. I make myself smile as I walk towards the front door, looking for Trysha or one of her sons.

The Hound follows after me. He stands beside me and I sidestep to keep a good distance between us.

He clears his throat but his voice still cracks, "I'll rea-dy the horses."

I do not watch him as he walks off; I hover by the open door to what I assumed to be the kitchen.

Just then, Trysha comes out carrying a tray of food. She beams at me and I pull my cheeriest smile in return.

"Anything you need, milady?"

I shake my head, "no. I simply wanted to say that we cannot wait for our laundry."

"Oh. But I-"

"If it is agreeable to you, we will come back for it on our return."

Trysha raises her brows and nods her head slowly, "of course, lady."

I press my lips into a smile, "Lord Clegane and I will take our leave. I thank you for your hospitality."

Trysha wishes to reply but she does not get the opportunity.

I head outside, feeling my chest tighten with sadness and resentment. I think of my pups; oh, how I long to have them doting on me, licking my skin, whining for my attention. How foolish I was for even finding a morsel of annoyance in them. I regretfully catch a glimpse of the Hound, who was buckling up his ride. My belly curdles.

I ignore him as I head to the stable. I take deep breaths to calm myself. I rub my horse's snout once I am close enough, imagining it was Sage, or Lilac, or Rose who I was petting instead. Not even a second later, my eyes water and my lips tremble. Perhaps I am greedy in wishing to have children of my own. Perhaps I was meant to only care for animals. Or perhaps I was not meant to be loved this way.

My horse neighs and nudges me. I slightly topple back, yet somehow the action soothes me.

"Need some help, lady?" a deep but chirpy voice asks.

I panic and sniffle, wiping my face in a hurry. Before I know it, a large man comes to my side, and it is made clear my smile does not hide my sorrow, as the expression of the man slips into concern when he gazes upon my features.

It was Ian that stood before me. It seemed he was in a good mood until he saw my face. It makes me feel even more dreadful than I already was.

I sniffle and offer a chuckle, "yes. I would appreciate the assistance." I wipe my face, "I'm terribly horrible at saddling on my own."

Ian examines my body, then looks past me. He hardens when he sees the Hound staring back at him. The said man is visibly on edge, in fact he looks distraught or even guilty. Ian clenches his fists and turns back to me, "are you well?"

I feign ignorance, and quickly realize my mistake at how the man clenches his jaw in return.

"Has he hurt you?"

I raise my brows at him and smile softly, "do not ask such silly que-"

"I'm not 'fraid of him, " Ian cuts me off, unabashedly glaring back at the perceived villain, "my brothers and I can ta-"

"Do not jest over such things," I blurt sternly, "you will not lay your hands upon my husband, do you understand?"

Ian turns to me.

"You must cease your talk of such gruesome horrors," I wave a hand, "it will do you well to practice peace."

"Peace is a pleasure only afforded by the rich, milady."

I shake my head, "I say to you, you will find less peace in riches. Greedy people are always in unrest."

My own words shatter my heart. I feel like a hypocrite. I feel like I am deserving of my predicament. I battle with my mind and thankful do not burst into tears. I manage to look back at Ian with a neutral expression.

We stare at each other for a moment. I offer him my hand and he takes it, finally helping me up my horse. He guides me up, then hoist me by my waist. In the simple action, I am made aware of his strength. I begin to wonder what the chances of him and his brothers against my husband were. I banish the thought.

Once I am sat upon my ride, I look down and press my lips into a smile, "thank you, Ian."

Ian looks up at me, nodding, "milady." He hands me my reins and brushes my horse's neck. He speaks softly, as not to be conspicuous, "are ye certain about your lord?"

My brows furrow slightly.

"Aye, it's not my business, but a woman should never weep."

My heart squeezes at his sentiment. I shake my head and reach out, placing my hand on his shoulder, "I weep for my pups."

Ian looks up at me.

"I have 3 that I left at home. I do miss them terribly."

Though it was not a lie, at least not entirely, it was clear that Ian did not believe me. He had made his mind up about what he would believe and so nothing but that can wipe away his doubt. And yet, Ian nods again then leads the horse out of the stable.

When I look up, I see the Hound already mounted on his own horse. We are reunited and my belly pinches and rolls at our proximity. I have to tell remind myself that the sooner we leave, the sooner I can ignore him. I cannot bring even myself to smile at him for show, or look at him for long, as tears threaten to spill from my eyes. I turn back to Ian instead and clear my throat before speaking, "I thank you again for your help, Ian."

Ian looks up at me.

"Your family's inn is a treasure. I pray the gods will grant you blessings and success."

"And I pray they give you peace, Lady Clegane," Ian replies, pulling away from my horse. He turns to Sandor, "may the Father punish the wicked those who wish you anything but."

The Hound's horse becomes restless.

I take this as a sign to begone. I spare Ian one last look before we ride off, "give your family my regards."

Ian bows. He offers me a smile. It drops and gis expression darkens when he turns to Sandor, who rides off before me to lead the way.

Sandor enjoyed the quiet, but the quiet in this travel was unbearable. His head so badly wanted to turn over his shoulder to check on his wife, to make sure that you were still there, to see how you were doing, but he told himself the sound of your horse's hooves where enough. When he caught the sound of your soft mewls, your soft sniffles and whimpers, he knew he didn't deserve to look. He'd made you cry again.

Again. And again. And again.

And now the night began to cover the land. It didn't look like there would be any inns to chance upon anytime soon. When Sandor caught sight of a lake, he decided it would be good to stay here for the night.

"We'll stop here," the Hound says, not expecting a reply.

He leads his ride to the lake and dismounts. He rubs the creatures face and steals a glance your way. You were cautiously getting off your horse... struggling.

"Fuck," he mutters and purses his lips. He battles with himself on whether or not he should help you.

Fuck it. He goes up to you and helps you down. Thankfully, you do not protest, nor do you wrangle out of his touch. When you get on your feet, you mutter something he doesn't catch.

Again, he hesitates, but he manages to mutter, "what was that?"

You turn to him. It's wholly apparent you had been crying. He feels horrid.

"I-"

"Thank you," you struggle to say through a clogged nose.

He freezes.

"I want to bathe," you walk back.

Sandor nods, "I'll hel-"

"Do not follow me," you raise a finger.

That comes to him like a punch in the gut. He feels like his heart was being pierced in every which way. He watches as his love walks away from him. He watches as his wife goes to the lake. He watches as she undresses herself. He turns away when she sees the bare skin of her shoulder.

He decides to gather some firewood nearby, never straying enough that his lady was no longer visible. He is lucky to find enough twigs to build a fire. By the time he's set one up, the moon was shining down upon earth, leaving a glow. He has more than once seen your skin under moon light, but in this moment, he has to banish the thought, lest the temptation to see you becomes unbearable.

You sink into the shallow lake, looking up at the sky, gazing at the full moon. The water was cold, and you were being chilled to the bone, but you invited the numbing sensation; it matched what your mind felt. You only decide to get out because your teeth began to chatter.

Sluggishly, you emerge from the water and frown at the towel waiting for you beside your clothes. You look out to your husband and find that he is sat by the fire, back turned to you. You shiver and hurriedly wipe yourself down and get dressed.

Just as you were about to walk towards your camp- "Milady!" you hear from not too far off.

"Ian?"

Sandor gazes at the fire, lost in thought, lost in life. He contemplates how long it will take for him to be forgiven, if he is worthy to be forgiven at all. He wonders how calloused he must be not to foresee the hurt it would stab upon your heart. His turmoil makes his head heavy, literally; he so badly wishes to shut his eyes and sleep, yet he cannot bring himself to do anything about it. And then, he hears whispers.

He brushes it off, thinking perhaps you were speaking to yourself. But then he the voices gets louder, and soon be realizes you were speaking to someone.

The Hound looks over his shoulder and sees you speaking to a large man. Immediately, his sleepiness if washed away and he is overcome with fight instincts. His face contorts as he grabs his sword and marches over to you.

Once he is close enough, he recognizes the man you were speaking to. It was the man from the inn, from the fucking stables. He draws his sword out of its sheath, immediately on the offense. His vein nearly pops when the stupid cunt readies to unsheathe his own weapon.

"Stop it!" you exclaim, walking towards him to press your hand on his chest.

Sandor's gaze is fixed upon you. Your hateful expression makes his brows knit in hurt.

"Both of you!" you snap to the other, "go home, Ian."

The Hound's anger flares, "the fuck is he even doing here?!" he steps forward, "how long have you been following us?"

Ian steps forward as well, but you also push him back, "stop it-"

"I know men like you," Ian mutters with venom, "you go 'round doing and takin' what pleases you because no one can stop you."

"Oh," the Hound chuckles dryly, "and will that-"

"STOOOOP!"

The two of them turn to you after let out the gut curling scream. You heave as bitter tears cloud your eyes and streak down your face. They both watch as you crumble into tears.

"Or perhaps I should just let you kill each other?!" you quip, "it's not like you're doing this for me because here you are saying you want to protect me but do not wish to listen to me, and you are doing the same in the name of love or whatever you fool yourself to believe it is! No, you fools only listen to yourselves because you can only love yourself!"

Needless to say, the two are frozen where they stand.

Ian is the first to try and explain himself. It falls deaf to your ears, and eventually he is off with his tail between his legs. As much as the Hound is pleased to see him go, he is not content to turn away until he is no longer in view. That is, until he notices you shaking with anger and frustration. He calls out your name carefully.

You hiss, "I've told you my piece," then shake your head slowly, "I do not have the energy to continue."

"I know," he grabs your arm, "but I-'

The sound of your sigh dries up his words. In this moment, he realizes your arm is limp in his clutch. You are not fighting him off because you are exhausted. That stupid fuck... he was right.

He releases you, "forgive me, I-"

"Tomorrow."

He clenches his jaw.

"We shall speak tomorrow. Tonight we sleep."

You stare at each other for what feels like forever. He nods, "good n-"

You walk past him, heading towards the campfire.

Sandor and I eat in silence. We were now at the nearby port eating freshly baked bread from a bakery in the marketplace. I promised him we would talk after breaking fast so that my hunger would not get ahead of me. I was rather prone to irritation when I had an empty stomach. Presently, we sat on the stairs just by the one of the docks, watching men come in with their catches of fish or imports.

I savor the last bit of bread I have before turning to Sandor, who had long finished his share. He turns to me, then back to the splashing waves. He shifts awkwardly and clears his throat.

"Sandor," I start, releasing a sigh.

He turns back to me. He carefully speaks my name.

"Our beginnings were... unpleasant," I mutter lowly, not trusting my voice enough to speak moderately, lest it break, "our union was borne from the mockery of King Joffrey and yet... here we are." I turn to my hands and rub them together, "I am your wife. My duty is with you, but-"

Sandor's throat constricts when the explanation is cut short.

I turn to him and feel like retching. It's as though there is rock that wishes to dislodge itself from my mouth. It takes a few long, gruelling moments for me to finally speak up, "Sandor, I care deeply for you."

Sandor faces body towards me

My eyes begin to water as we stare at each other, "I love you so terribly that the suggestion that you do not feel the same makes me want to rip the hairs on my head."

His face slips. He hesitates. His hand twitches. He tries to reach out for me but he decides against it. He purses his lips, "I would die for you."

My brows furrow. Tears fog my vision, "that is not the same as lov-"

"I love you," he blurts through a whisper, "and little else."

"Do you think I want your love for me to kill you?" I mumble as sadness overtakes my expression, "do you think that I want you to suffer for my sake?"

He takes a second but he slowly shakes his head.

"I want you to live for me," I squeeze his arm, "live with me. I want to know your woes. I want to help- and- and-... I want you to help me," I pinch my fingers and turn to my lap, "I don't want you chose for me because you think it's better, no more that you'd want me to do the same."

Sandor feels his chest tighten. He wants to speak but he does not.

I look up at him, cheeks wet with salt, "I don't want to be... alone when we're together... I don't want us to continue playing games for each other's sake when neither of us will enjoy the fruits it'll bear. I do not want us to assume our own suffering will benefit the other."

He feels like he is being eaten from the inside out. He hesitates to touch me. I take his hand and place it on my cheek, "embrace me when I weep... I beg of you."

The Hound no longer thinks twice. He reaches for me, arms coming around me body. He pulls me onto his lap and holds me against him. I slip between his thighs and bring my face into his neck. I take in his warmth, his scent, his feel. He rubs my arm and mutters softly, "my poor wife... forgive me."

I pull my head back and frown. His cheeks are damp and I wipe them dry, "forgive me, my poor husband."

Sandor sniffles, "I do not like hurting you."

"Neither do I," I sigh and frown, "perhaps we are doomed in tragedy."

He brushes my hair behind my ear, "perhaps I am your tragedy."

I swipes my lips when they wobble. 

A line forms between his brows.

"Your unkindness to yourself is just as painful as your unkindness to me," I whine, "if you are my tragedy then I am yours. What else have I done but vex and burden you?"

Sandor rubs my arms, "you have made me a home."

My heart races. My breath catches in my throat.

"You are my home," he adds just as I mutter the exact words back to him.

A moment passes of us simply taking each other's sad expression before we break into soft chuckles. Sandor leans his forehead onto my shoulder and kisses my collarbone. I turn to him and kiss his lips.

"From now on, do not make your mind before speaking it to me," I say, "and I will not make mine before speaking it to you. Agreed?"

Sandor pulls me into a tight hug and nods against my neck, "agreed."

I embrace him back, but gasp when I hear a bell tolling. A loud announcement that one of the ships will be leaving makes me break away from him and get to my feet. Sandor immediately follows suit and grabs our things as I hurry over to the ship heading for Volantis.

Only it's not the ship heading for Volantis and one headed to Lannisport.

I freeze in my place and turn to Sandor, who was already looking at me. I wipe my face and give a guilty look, "forgive me. I thought-"

"We should get more bread while we're waiting. I'm still hungry."

I purse my lips and nod. I take his arm and we both head back to the bakery.

Sandor is conscious of my hold on him, "do like holding me while walking?"

His question makes me tense, "I do. W-why? Do you not like it?"

"I like it," he secures my hand on his arm, "I just have never walked like this before. Normally, I walk 5 paces behind."

I let out a breath of relief, "well, you will not need to do that with me, not unless you want to."

"I do not."

I nod, "I am glad. I do not want you so far from me either."

It did not take long after we bought some more bread for us to board the ship. Sandor and I managed to hitch a ride with a trader that was set for Volantis.

Upon boarding, we were brought below the ship, along with the rest of the other passengers who wanted to hitch a ride. In truth, the area was not so bad; it did smell of market, of animal and vegetables, but it was nothing too foul. And yet, it didn't take long for my stomach to begin to react, and my ever-so-keen husband immediately caught on to my affliction.

We had settled ourselves by some crates, apart from the other passengers, but not so far away that we were isolated. Sandor had prepared a makeshift bed for me that we were both presently sat on. I was trying to take a nap but my fussing had turned his bored expression into that of concern.

"Squirrel?" he mutters, shifting to face me.

I ignore him and rest my head on his arm.

His brows furrow, "are you uncomfortable?"

I grunt, "I'm bored."

It's clear he does not believe me, given the fact he pushes my hair away and examines my face. Just as he was speak again, my stomach makes a sound and I slap my hand on my mouth.

"Are you seasick?" he asks, taking my wrist, rubbing it with his thumb.

I look at him and bite my lip. I shrug and rub my nose, "I have been on ships before. I did not get seasick... I think, perhaps, it is the smell."

Sandor knits his brows.

"Do not worry. I will eventually get used to it."

I rub his hand, soothing both him and I with the action.

He does not seem soothed though, and soon, I am craning my neck up to look at him as he stands. I furrow my brows then widen my eyes when he hands me his sword.

"I-"

"Stab anyone that gets too close."

"Sando-"

"I'll talk to the captain."

I watch him walk off in confusion. It was not like there was anywhere else we could go on the ship. What could he possibly need to talk to the captain about?

"Is he your ward, lady?" a voice asks from not too far to my left. I turn and see a middle aged woman and her two kids, sleeping on her lap.

I smile at her, "he is my lord husband."

 Her face falls in shock, "he is?"

My face scrunches in offence at her shock, but I decide not to answer in hostility. I pull a smile and bring Sandor's sheathed sword into my chest.

"May the lord of light grant you peace in your marriage," she says.

I turn away from her and scoff under my breath at the implication I did not already have peace... And what if I don't? My marriage is none of her concern.

A few moments of silence later, I feel my stomach reacting again, so I try and will myself to sleep. I lean against our bags and bury my face into the clothes to mask the scent of the area. It doesn't help though; I only feel suffocated. I sit up once I hear heavy footsteps approaching.

Sandor reemerges and immediately reaches a hand out for me once he is close. I look up at him and take his hand. He helps me stand then grabs our bags and his sword. We wordlessly walk off and find ourselves back on the deck. I look at my husband's broad back and take in the smell of sea salt. It doesn't really refresh me as much as I hoped. I frown when he seems to head off to other stuffy room of the ship. I take in a deep breath as Sandor opens the door for me.

I let out my breath in surprise when I see the room is not, in fact, another part of the hull, or whatever you call the bottom part of the ship, and instead, someone's personal quarters.

I turn to Sandor as he closes the door and puts our things down. It doesn't take long for me to figure this was probably the captain's room, based on the maps. "Are we going to speak to the captain?"

Sandor steps forward, and just then, a rough wave hits the ship. We quickly grab each other for balance. His hands squeeze my arms and my hands grip the sides of his shirt.

The towering man looks down at me and states for a moment. He takes a deep breath and rubs my arms, "you're so beautiful."

I raise my brows at this and pout when I see his solemn expression. I walk forward and press against him. I rub his belly, "thank you, puppy."

He embraces me and presses his cheek on the top of my head, "I've missed you."

I frown and tighten my arms around him, "forgive me."

"Forgive me," he mutters, "I don't like upsetting you."

I look up at him, "I am no longer upset," I brush his beard, "and, if it means anything, I know, deep down you mean well... even when what you think is well ends up hurting me-"

"I am s-"

"-hurting us," I caress his cheek.

I can already feel him about to apologize, so I stop him before he can speak by sealing his lips with mine.

His reaction is immediate. His hands rub down my back and he bends down to deepen our kiss. Before I know it, he's picking me up and lying me on the bed. Soon, my skirt is pushed past my knees and he's slotted between my legs.

My heart begins to race when he kisses down my neck, but that's when I remember where we were. I gasp and push him off, "Sandor!'

The Hound's eyes widen as he pulls back.

I sit up, "we cannot here," I sit up and fix my skirt. I look around the bed, "if we were to get caught-"

"We're not going to-"

"Why did you wish to speak to the captain anyway?" I move off the bed, hands coming to his shoulders, "I don't think he can give us a room if there are no rooms to give."

Sandor pulls me into him by my waist, "that's why I bought his room."

"You what?" I raise a brow.

He brings his face into my neck and kisses my pulse, "I would not let my poor squirrel suffer."

I brush my hands up his face as he frowns, "not any more."

I rub his cheeks, "my love, I do not suffer because of you. Twas the smell... and frankly," I rub my belly, "I fear it still lingers."

He rubs my sides, "are you still uncomfortable?"

"I feel like perhaps any moment I could retch, and yet I won't, which makes it worse."

"I can distract you," he offers firmly then whispers, "please."

I chuckle under my breath and brush our noses together, "what if I vomit on you?"

"Then I'll eat it up like the dog I am," he kisses my cheek, making me laugh.

"Oh, my lord. If I vomited as we coupled, I fear I would never want to couple with you again."

Sandor pulls away, face stunned.

I chuckle and, as if to prove a point, my stomach begins to churn and I feel queasy. I pull away from him and lie on the bed. I pat the area beside me, beckoning him over, "perhaps you can tell me a story."

The bed dips as Sandor comes to my side, "I'm not a story teller, and I fear my stories will only make your soft belly sicker."

I roll over and press myself on him, our chests were now against each other, "what about your travels? Surely you've been tasked to travel to places unknown to the likes of me."

He brushes my hair back, "most of what comes to mind are grubby and bloody memories."

I frown, "forgive me. I do not mean to bring back such scenes."

"Speak no apologies. In fact, I should thank you. You've changed that for me," he brushes my lips, "you've changed that."

I press my lips into a line, "... would you like to know about where I grew up?"

"Brownwood?"

I shake my head, "no, with my aunt and uncle, where I met Lucy."

He grunts, "mmm, let me guess, you found Lucy in a filthy alleyway on your way home to your uncle's pretty castle?"

"..."

He brings one hand behind his head and raises his brow, lips curved up in amusement, "hit the nail on the head with that one, aye?"

A line forms between my brows, "Lucy was sold to a brothel as a child."

Sandor's face goes blank.

"I met her I was eight," I tilt my head, "did you know she's a winter younger than I?"

He opens his mouth and slowly trails off, "no."

"All my cousins were boys and they were all much older than me. I had expected them to treat me like my brothers but they were too caught up in squiring and roughhousing to play dollies with me," I pay his chest, "and no, I did not find her in a filthy alleyway. I was picking flowers and she had been hiding in the bushes. She was on the run."

A guilty expression forms on Sandor's face.

I smile to myself, "in truth, I was very selfish. I saw her and spoke to her about dollies then decided I would take her home with me. I hid her in my room and bathed her and fed her so that I could have someone to play with," I chuckle, "it was a wonder I hid her as long as I did, considering her blabbermouth."

He snorts in amusement and rubs my arm.

"I was so afraid my aunt would throw her away if she was caught, but the gods kept us together. She has been my dearest friend for as long as I can remember. I am forever responsible for her, so..." I draw circles on his chest, "be kind to my Lucy."

He knits his brows and takes my hand.

I watch him as he kisses my knuckles.

"She is an annoying creature."

I grumble, "Hound."

"I will do my best to tolerate her."

I sigh, "very well."

"She has guarded you just as well as you have guarded her. I am glad you found each other."

I feel my stomach curdle when a wave makes the room teeter. I groan and bury my face into his neck, "your turn... please."

He wraps his arms around me and hums. He thinks and rubs my back, "I... rode a horse in a field once."

"Just once?"

"... many times, actually."

"Mmm..." I release a breath, "what were the flowers there that one instance?"

"... uhh... there were no flowers."

"Where were you going?"

"... somewhere ..."

"... I see... Were you meeting someone?"

"... I... I don't remember... I think I- ... no..."

I wrap my arms around him, "a lovely tale, husband."

"... the horse was brown."