#World Tour Floral

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (16/17)

Part Summary: You and Leigh cling to each other, counting down the days until she leaves next year for Matt's book tour.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5.300+ | Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strap-on usage (r receiving), oral (r receiving), sex in public | Author's note: Just R and Leigh being all over each other before we wrap up this series :)

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV I Part XV

-

Your internal clock kicks in at five in the morning, even though it feels like you and Leigh only just fell asleep, exhausted after hours of chasing each other to the brink and back. You’ve long since stopped counting the times you’ve brought each other over the edge, a relentless pursuit of pleasure that left both of you gasping, spent, yet craving more. 

Was it possible to share an orgasm that stretched into what felt like hours? If so, how were you not just a tangle of bliss-wrecked limbs, dead to the world?

You vaguely remember a drowsy conversation as you were both drifting off, your sweaty bodies tangled in the sheets. You’d managed a murmured question about the future, about what happens when Leigh hits the road for the comic tour. But she’d just pressed a lazy, silencing kiss to the corner of your mouth. “What if tomorrow an asteroid hits Los Angeles?” she’d teased, nosing the length of your jaw, pressing a kiss here and there.

You tried to frown, your mind foggy with sleep. “Be serious,” you muttered.

“I am,” she whispered back, her lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’m dead serious about sucking every drop of now, not wasting a second on what-ifs.”

You’re not entirely sure what happened next, only that when Leigh said the word suck, you felt a tingling sensation that surged down to your core. Before you knew it, you were on your back again, with Leigh skillfully coaxing out the final, shattering orgasm of the night from you.

Stretching your back, you hear a few satisfying pop, reminding you how sex with Leigh was nothing short of a workout, your muscles pleasantly sore from it. The first pale light finds Leigh beside you, her back turned, skin bare, and just a whisper of the sheets covering her. You realize you’ve monopolized the covers throughout the night. 

You carefully pull the sheet over her, tucking it around her exposed shoulder. She’s still out, peaceful, her breathing even and deep. You can’t help but slide closer, wrapping an arm around her waist, her skin so soft and warm. You kiss the back of her neck lightly, her scent—a mix of sweet sweat and the faint floral of her shampoo—fills you up.

Soon enough, the gentle rhythm of Leigh's breathing lulls you back into sleep.

-

When you wake up again, hours later, the bed beside you is empty. The covers are tucked around you, forming a comforting cocoon, undoubtedly Leigh’s thoughtful doing. 

There’s no rush to throw on clothes; you relish the comfort of the sheets against your bare skin as you slide out of bed. It's not your first time being in Leigh’s room, but the last time you were here, you barely made it a foot inside before being overtaken by the fight you were having. Last night was different. In the darkness, nothing mattered except Leigh’s cries of pleasure, the slick heat between her thighs, and the taste of her lips, completely consumed by the wonders of her body. With the slow start to your morning, you realize you now have all the time in the world to explore Leigh’s room.

Though, quite literally, there’s not much to unpack here.

In one corner near the windows, stacks of cardboard boxes are still wrapped in tape. They are remnants, you guess, of her life with Matt. Drifting over to Leigh’s desk, you notice a notebook sitting there, its pages shut tight. The temptation to peek is there, but you respect her privacy, leaving it untouched. Above the desk, a small shelf is lined with books—classics you recognize and, surprisingly, a few romance novels by Emily Henry. You're not usually into romance, but you make a mental note to check out this author on your next visit to a bookstore.

Exploring Leigh’s room reveals a charming minefield. Clothes are draped over chairs, pooled on the floor, or spilling from drawers. The dresser is a jumble of lotion bottles, perfume, earrings, and hair ties. It's all quintessentially Leigh—somewhat untamed. Your self-guided tour brings you inevitably back to the doorway. Just as you’re turning to give one last look over the room, the door bursts open. It's Jules, and the moment she sees you, her eyes widen in horror.

“Jesus, Y/N!” Jules shrieks, throwing her hands up to shield her eyes. “What the hell?”

Scrambling, you grab a throw pillow off Leigh’s bed and hold it in front of you. “Jules! I, uh, didn't think anyone would be coming in,” you stammer, cheeks heating up.

“Why are you naked in my sister's room?” Jules demands, her voice muffled by her hands, still covering her face. The question sounds ridiculous even to her ears—everyone knew you and Leigh had a date last night.

Of course, you're naked in her sister's bedroom the next morning. Where else?

“I—We were just—” Every explanation sounds more absurd as you try to find the words.

“Just—don't. Please, just get dressed,” Jules interrupts, still not looking at you.

Nodding, you quickly grab the first clothes you can find, not bothering to check if they’re yours or if they’re clean. Within seconds, you're awkwardly pulling on a white shirt featuring a pickle wearing aviators, captioned Dill With It, and squeezing into lime shorts that are definitely a bit too snug and short for your taste.

“I'm decent,” you announce, hoping your voice doesn’t betray how flustered you feel.

Right then, Leigh emerges from downstairs, looking bewildered by the commotion. “What’s going on?” she asks, eyes darting between her flustered sister and you in your bizarre outfit.

Jules lowers her hands slowly, peeking out with one eye before fully facing you. Her irritation is palpable as she glares at Leigh. 

“You said I could borrow your charger from your bedroom!” Jules exclaims, her finger quivering slightly as she points it at her sister.

Leigh blinks, her lips twitching as she fights the urge to laugh. She sneaks a glance at you, your face now resembling a ripe tomato from embarrassment, and mutters almost absentmindedly, “I assumed she'd still be asleep.”

Jules huffs, “Whatever.” She strides over to Leigh's desk, grabbing the charger with a dramatic flourish. You stand frozen, barely breathing. As Jules heads for the door, she pauses, crinkling her nose as if a new thought has just occurred to her. She turns, eyes narrowed slightly in disgust. 

“And open a window, would you? It smells like a brothel in here. Gross.” With that parting shot, she's gone.

Leigh lets out a breath and shakes her head. She steps closer and wraps her arms around you, her laughter bubbling up. “Well, that was something,” she says, coming over to wrap you in a hug. She gives your shirt a playful tug. “You kind of rock the pickle look, though.”

“It's a new trend,” you joke, pulling her a little closer. As you do, you lean in to kiss her cheek softly, whispering, “Good morning.”

Leigh smiles and leans in to kiss you on the lips, but you instinctively bring up your fingers to your mouth, mumbling, “I haven’t brushed yet.”

Unfazed, Leigh simply pries your fingers away and presses her lips firmly against yours. It's a quick but solid peck, leaving you both smiling.

“Morning breath doesn't scare me,” she murmurs, tracing a finger down your throat to your clavicle. “Besides, after last night, I think a little morning breath is nothing we can't handle.”

Grinning, you dive back in for another kiss, deeper this time, as Leigh starts steering you backward towards the bed. Just as the back of your knees hit the mattress, a rumble from your stomach interrupts the moment—loud, untimely, and embarrassingly intolerant.

Leigh chuckles, her forehead resting against yours as she catches her breath. “Guess that's my cue to feed you something other than kisses,” she says with a smirk, pulling back and offering her hand to help you up. “Come on, Jules made breakfast.”

Gratefully, you take her hand, letting her lead you out of the bedroom.

-

“Forget that research gig, I'm heading straight to America's Got Talent,” Suzie jokes, staggering back to the table after a spirited, if slightly wobbly, rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart. She's already half-drunk but radiates happiness, her performance having drawn cheers and hearty sing-alongs from the crowd at the karaoke bar.

She flops down in her chair, cheeks flushed and grinning, as your group erupts in cheers and claps. Tomorrow is Suzie's last day, and you had her pick the venue for her farewell party. Knowing how much she loves to sing during downtime at the clinic, a karaoke bar was an obvious choice.

“Here's to Suzie!” you shout, trying to be heard over the sound of a couple belting out a ballad on stage. “For the longest time, you've been the clinic's backbone and heartbeat. We never would've made it without you. You'll be terribly missed, but remember, our door is always open for you.”

The table erupts in cheers before everyone empties the glasses they're holding up. You drop back into your seat, feeling a little dizzy after that round. It's a small group—just you, Suzie, Foreman, Sara, and your maintenance guys, Joey and Mike.

Suzie suddenly leaps to her feet, glass raised high. “And a huge shout-out to the hottest boss I've ever had the pleasure of working ‘under’!” she yells, punctuating her words with a devious wink. Your team bursts into laughter, their uproar drawing whistles and applause from some folks at nearby tables. Sara chimes in with a spirited “Hear, hear!”, while Foreman simply rolls his eyes, a hint of envy in his expression—he's already made a pass at Sara and was swiftly rejected.

You wave your hands dismissively. “Alright, alright, let's not give everyone the wrong idea,” you say, your cheeks reddening a bit from both the attention and the alcohol. Just as you're about to retake your seat, feeling the room sway slightly with your tipsiness, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You fumble it out to see Leigh's name lighting up the screen. You’d texted her this morning inviting her to join the farewell, but her busy schedule had made her confirmation uncertain.

You excuse yourself and stumble slightly as you rise, steadying your hand on the back of your chair. Weaving through the tables, you find a quieter spot near the entrance of the bar to answer the call.

“Hey,” you say, pressing the phone to your ear, your voice dropping as you move away from all the ruckus. “Everything okay?”

“Hey,” Leigh's voice cuts in, a bit choppy and barely audible over the blaring speakers. “I'm outside of the... Brass Gibbon? Am I at the right place?”

You miss the last part of her sentence. “Sorry? Can you say that again?”

Strangely, you catch Leigh's deep sigh perfectly. “I said I'm outside,” she repeats.

“Oh! Hang on, I'm coming out.”

You dash out of the restaurant and spot Leigh leaning against the wall. You can’t help but rush over and wrap her in a tight bear hug. It’s only been two days since you woke up in her bed, but you’ve already missed seeing her, smelling her, feeling her in your arms.

She laughs and returns the hug. As she tries to pull away, you tighten your grip, holding her for a few more precious seconds. She relents with a soft chuckle, patting you lightly on the back. When you finally let go, her eyes roam fondly over your face, taking in your slightly flushed cheeks and dreamy stare. Seeing this, her smile only widens.

“Someone's had a few too many,” she teases.

You hiccup and try to defend yourself, “I’ve just had three—no, four!”

Leigh smirks and shakes her head. “Four, huh? Must've been some party,” she says, taking your hand. As Leigh leads you back toward the bar, you find yourself gazing down at your intertwined hands, a goofy grin spreading across your face. You giggle softly to yourself, slightly buzzed and thoroughly enchanted by the simple act of holding her hand.

Upon reaching your table, Suzie waves enthusiastically to get Leigh's attention. Leigh responds with a bright, “Hello, everyone!” as you both approach the group. There’s a moment where everyone looks expectantly at you, waiting for an introduction. Momentarily distracted by Leigh's presence, you get a nudge and a whisper from Suzie sitting next to you, “Introduce her, you goof!”

Quickly regaining your composure, you turn slightly, still holding Leigh’s hand. “Everyone, this is Leigh,” you announce, proud and slightly nervous. Everyone takes turns shaking her hand and introducing themselves. You watch anxiously as Sara stands up to greet Leigh, but Leigh's smile never fades, and a wave of calm washes over you as you observe your team warmly interacting with your—

“Is she your girlfriend?” Foreman asks overtly. The room goes quiet. Everyone's eyes swing between you and Leigh, waiting.

You're stuck, words lodged somewhere in your chest, not sure what to say or how to say it.

And then Leigh beats you to it.

“Yes.”

You blink, staring at Leigh, flooded with relief and suddenly feeling very, very horny.  When Leigh notices your dazed look, her face switches to concern. “You okay?” she asks. Before you can answer, she’s already grabbing your hand, turning to everyone, “Excuse us, Y/N's not feeling great.”

You're still reeling from her bold affirmation and too captivated by Leigh to piece together a coherent thought. The next thing you know, you're being guided—rather roughly—into one of the bathroom stalls, your back pressed against the door as Leigh locks it behind you.

Leigh leans in close, her breath hot against your ear. “You shouldn't be wearing your white doctor's coat out like this,” she murmurs.

You open your mouth to explain—it was chilly, and beneath the coat, all you had on was a skimpy black strappy dress. But as Leigh slides the coat from your shoulders, her lips find your earlobe, gently nibbling. The words die in your throat, replaced by a sharp intake of breath. Leigh pushes you harder against the door, her body pinning yours with surprising force. That's when you feel it—the unmistakable hardness of a strap beneath her pants. A deep, needy moan spills from you as she starts grinding against you.

How did you miss the pronounced bulge in the tight jeans she wore to meet everyone? Was this part of her plan? The nerve of it—meeting everyone, introducing herself so confidently and casually, all while planning to take you here, in a public bathroom. It's almost as if she was silently bragging to your team, “Yeah, I’m about to fuck your boss in a public bathroom. Nice to meet you.”

The thought alone makes you soak your panties. Despite the thrill, the risk of getting caught in public makes you hesitate. “Leigh, they’re waiting for us,” you protest weakly.

Leigh just grins against your skin. “But I'm not done making you feel better,” she whispers slowly, making you clench your thighs together from how hoarse her voice has gotten. Her hands are deft as she bunches your dress around your waist and begins to unzip her pants. All the while, she deposits open-mouthed kisses along your neck, leaving a trail of saliva in their wake. 

“Leigh…” you whine, unsure if you're trying to make her stop or urging her on out of impatience. She just smirks, that knowing look in her eyes telling you she’s got you right where she wants you. Before you can protest again, she pulls you into a deep, toe-curling kiss that melts your doubts away.

Then, you see it. Leigh pulls out a seven-inch strap-on, its girth substantial. Her hand barely fits around it as she spits into her palm and coats the silicone with deliberate strokes, preparing it. 

You're teetering on the edge, mind spinning, when Leigh switches things up on you. Suddenly, she’s on her knees, and before you know what’s happening, she’s tugged your panties down. You’re about to react when her tongue hits you, slick and warm, tracing up your pussy.

“Oh my god!” you cry out.

Leigh’s tongue works magic, and she hums against you. “You taste sweeter every time,” she murmurs, just before her tongue dives back in for more. You can only moan in response, words failing you completely as pleasure builds. Just when you’re about to peak, Leigh pulls away, leaving you hanging on the brink. She stands quickly, grabs the strap-on, and steps closer. Her grin is wicked as she rubs the toy against your slick folds, coating it with your arousal. When the thick head nudges your clit, you can’t help but curse out loud.

“Leigh! Fuck!”

Leigh clamps a hand over your mouth, her eyes widening slightly as she hears someone enter the bathroom. She gives you a quick, commanding look, silently instructing you to wrap your legs around her. As you comply, the toy squeezes tighter in your folds, making you shudder.

“Put your arms around my shoulders, hold tight,” she murmurs, breathless from the effort she’s exerting to hold you up. She guides the tip of the cock to your entrance. “Ready?” she asks softly. You nod, pressing your face into the crook of her neck to drown out any sounds. Without another word, Leigh thrusts into you in one swift motion. The size is a shock, and you bite down on her neck to stifle a cry, the slight pain mingling with deep pleasure. Sensing your need to adjust, Leigh holds back, her body taut yet patient, giving you a moment. Once you give a slight nod against her neck, Leigh starts moving again, slowly at first. 

She continues thrusting into you, speeding up just a little, her lips just inches from your ear. “I've been thinking about this, fucking you like this,” she whispers.

Dumb with pleasure, you gasp out, “H-Here?”

“Not here, silly,” she breathes out, her rhythm faltering slightly as a particular thrust grazes her clit just right. The strap-on drags tantalizingly against your walls as she pulls out, then sinks back in deep, hitting spots that light you up from the inside. Leigh’s fucking you like the strap is a true extension of hers. For a second there, you wish it were. 

“Ideally, I'd have you in your bed, where you can scream your l-lungs out,” Leigh whimpers as her movements grow more and more out of control. She drives into you relentlessly, each stroke making you slicker, drawing moans from deep within you. “S-Seeing you tonight... I couldn’t w-wait.”

You've never been so wet, so ready, and every time she pulls back, you feel the absence of her deeply, desperately not wanting this to end.

Leigh changes her approach, drawing back slowly until only the head of her cock remains inside you, before surging forward, slamming into you. Each powerful thrust pins you harder against the door, the sound of your bodies smacking together rocking you into a lust-filled haze. The sheer strength of her movements turns you on even more, making you more slippery, and soon you can practically hear the sound of her fucking you—wet, squelching noises that you're sure anyone nearby can hear.

True enough, you catch the sound of hurried footsteps and the door slamming shut as someone rushes out, likely realizing what's happening. 

With the coast clear, she carefully lowers your legs from her waist, sensing that you’re close but knowing you need more. Just when you think you might lose it, she suddenly pulls out. You barely have time to gasp, ready to curse her for stopping, when she swiftly turns you around and positions you over the toilet, making you brace yourself on the seat.

Without warning, she enters you from behind, the angle allowing her to go deeper. Leigh drags your dress further up your body, her hands roaming over your smooth back before digging into your hips. Your breathing becomes shallower as she continues her unforgiving pace, but you crave more.

Sensing your need, Leigh sneaks a hand in front of you, her fingers finding your swollen clit. She circles it tightly with three fingers, massaging the engorged nub. “Look how big it's grown,” she whispers huskily in your ear. “You're so ready. Practically dripping everywhere.”

You whimper helplessly, tears forming behind your eyelids from the amount of pleasure you’re receiving. 

“I wish I could come in you, fill you up.”

That does it. Your body tenses, and a powerful orgasm crashes over you, making you cry out. Leigh tries to hold you up, supporting your weight as you lose all sensation in your legs.

“Fuck, Leigh!" you moan, trembling. “That was... oh god…”

Leigh doesn't stop, her own need for release driving her forward. Despite your pleas about how sensitive you are, she continues relentlessly, her fingers expertly working your clit again. “Leigh, please,” you whimper, your body overstimulated and trembling. “I can’t—”

“Just one more, baby,” she groans. “I-I’m close.”

At Leigh’s plea, your body, still reeling from the first orgasm, starts building up again. “Oh god, Leigh,” you gasp, feeling the pressure mount once more, your body trembling uncontrollably. Within seconds, you're hurtling toward another peak, your legs shaking as she drives you over the edge. A second, even more intense orgasm rips through you, your cries echoing in the small stall. Leigh finally lets out a low, guttural moan, her own release hitting as she keeps you bent over, her fingers never stopping their assault on your clit until every last wave of pleasure has wracked your body. 

Shortly thereafter, Leigh finally slows, her thrusts easing until she stops completely, still buried deep inside you. She pinches your ass appreciatively, then tests how sensitive you are with a small thrust that has you hissing. She chuckles at your reaction, taking pity on you. Bending over, she kisses your cheek and whispers, “I'm gonna pull out now, okay?”

You nod weakly, still catching your breath. Leigh begins to withdraw slowly, her eyes fixed on the junction of your bodies. She watches, fascinated, as she draws back, the wet tendrils stretching and finally snapping from your pussy to her cock. 

“Look at you,” she murmurs in awe, half to herself, as she finally frees herself completely and tucks the strap back inside her pants.

“Are you okay?” she asks, noticing you’ve been in the same position longer than usual.

“Yeah, just give me a minute... or five,” you reply with a breathless laugh.

She laughs softly too, then helps you pull your panties up from your ankles. Once you're somewhat decent, she sits on the toilet lid and pulls you into her lap, resting her forehead on your chest, eyes closed, her breath steady on your sternum. You weave your fingers into her hair, massaging her scalp gently. Leigh sighs contentedly, but then her voice turns apologetic. 

“I'm sorry for… I literally lost control. It's just... I keep seeing you and thinking of February, when I have to go and I—”

“I know what you mean,” you interrupt softly, tilting her head towards you with fingers under her chin. “I don't want to waste a single moment.”

Leigh nods, then quickly buries her face in your chest to hide her watery eyes, her head nestled comfortably against your breast.

For a while, you just hold each other without saying anything, content even in the cramped space of the stall. After a while, you gently suggest, “We should get back. Don’t want to give the staff any ideas.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Leigh says, lifting her head to meet your eyes. 

She helps you to your feet, both of you adjusting your clothes, sharing a quiet, knowing smile. With one last kiss, you step out of the stall together.

When you and Leigh return to the group, it's clear they're more inebriated than when you left. Except Suzie. The smirk that spreads across her face as soon as she sees you gives away that she's pieced together what happened between you and Leigh. Your cheeks flush immediately, providing Suzie all the confirmation she needs. Without missing a beat, she guides you both back to the booth and strategically sits between you and Leigh, still smirking.

“Thanks for coming, Leigh,” Suzie says, offering Leigh a beer.

Leigh accepts the drink, taking a large gulp before saying, “Sorry for crashing your party.”

“No, you’re not,” Suzie says with an impish grin. “I told Y/N to invite you. I wanted to meet you properly before I go.”

“Oh?” Leigh looks up from her drink. “Why’s that?”

“Suzie—” you try to interject.

Suzie holds up a finger to shush you. Leigh's eyebrow arches at the gesture, clearly feeling provoked by your former receptionist's antics. You tense up for a moment, worried Suzie might say something offensive to Leigh.

Instead, she grins and says, “I wanted to meet the reason my boss stares into space half the time.”

You shoot Suzie a deathly glare, but she just laughs. 

“Really?” Leigh asks, amused. “That bad, huh?”

Suzie nods, enjoying every second. “Oh, yeah. It’s been fun watching her daydream.”

The rest of the group laughs and then Foreman accidentally spills his drink down his shirt, drawing everyone’s attention. Taking advantage of the distraction, Suzie leans in closer to Leigh, her expression becoming earnest.

“I might not be Y/N’s best friend,” she tells her, “but consider this a friendly warning from someone who cares about her just as much. Don’t break her heart, okay?”

Leigh meets her gaze head on and says, “I don’t plan on it.”

“Good,” Suzie says, rising from her seat. “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to kick off the second set of my concert tonight.”

-

Leigh doesn’t mention Suzie’s little warning to you, choosing to keep it to herself. Yet, as she spends more time with you, those words linger in the back of her mind, subtly coloring her perceptions and the way she observes your interactions. It’s not something she dwells on openly, but it’s there, quietly guiding her along the way. 

You don’t tell Leigh how she’s been everything you could ever ask for these past few weeks, but you've noticed. You see her thoughtfulness in the small things—like how she always brings you your favorite coffee just the way you like it, or the way she listens, really listens, giving you her undivided attention when you talk about your day, no matter how trivial the details. And it's clear she's not holding back; she's refreshingly candid. Leigh shares everything that's on her mind, effortlessly expressing how your words or actions impact her, for better or worse—a true companionship.

The sex gradually tapered off, but your longing for Leigh has only grown—not just in a sexual sense. You miss her in the mornings when she's makeup-free, leaving a small mark of drool on your pillow. During the day, you wish you could grab lunch with her or talk about the new book you spotted in a shop window, especially after deep discussions about its author. You long to share every detail of your day with her, to hear her take on the little things, to see her in your dreams.

Simply put, you find yourself wanting her around all the time.

It's risky to find yourself wanting her even more than you already do, but you've long since surrendered control over your own heart. It feels like being a prisoner on death row, helplessly waiting for the inevitable moment she leaves LA for her tour.

-

One evening, Leigh surprises you with a picnic dinner at the park. She finds the perfect spot under a massive oak tree and lays down a cozy blanket. From her basket, she pulls out a homemade lasagna that’s still warm and a grazing box loaded with your favorite cheeses and cold cuts. 

As you settle down, Leigh pulls out a bottle of wine and two glasses. She winks, assuring you she definitely got permission to take it from her mom’s cellar.

You smile, watching her pour the wine. “So.. what’s the occasion?”

Leigh shrugs as she hands you a glass of wine, her smile easy. “I just wanted to do something nice for you,” she says simply.

You take a sip, enjoying the flavor, but there’s a nagging feeling you just can’t seem to shake off. 

“You've been going all out for me lately,” you quip, keeping your tone light. “What's this really about?”

Leigh’s smile fades just a touch, though her eyes remain hopeful. She takes a deep breath.

“I spoke with Matt's publisher,” she starts cautiously. “I’ve officially agreed to go on the tour. They've sorted out all the details—the itinerary, the places, everything.”

The news doesn't surprise you. You've been expecting this; neither you nor Leigh can keep avoiding the inevitable, hiding behind the rush of desire you have for each other, the comfortable days that are, you both know, numbered.

You fall silent for a while, simply lying down with your head in Leigh's lap. She seems taken aback at first, but quickly adjusts to make you more comfortable. You look up at her, smiling, finding her face and the night sky an unbelievably stunning match.

Leigh gives you a funny look, her brow furrowing slightly. “Did you hear what I said?” she asks.

“Yeah, I heard you,” you mumble, still distracted by her face. Then, as an afterthought, you whisper, “You were always going to go.”

She nods, looking upward, her eyes glistening as she tries to blink back tears.

“Are you going alone?” you ask.

Leigh takes a moment, then shakes her head slightly. “Danny might come too,” she admits. “But with his new job in Vegas, I doubt he’ll be able to.”

As you absorb her words, you realize why you asked. Maybe part of you had sensed it, maybe you needed the confirmation. Regardless, you know you have no say in the matter. If Danny is there, at least someone can look out for Leigh.

You hadn't noticed you'd voiced your thoughts about Danny possibly joining her until Leigh says, “I can handle myself just fine, you know.”

“Of course, you can,” you reply quickly, “but that won’t stop me from worrying.”

She gives you a soft smile and starts toying with your hair, gently pulling strands and braiding them. The slight tugs as she twists your hair into braids lull you into an almost sleepy state. You're drifting on the edge of dozing off when her voice, soft and tender, pulls you back. 

“I love you.”

Your eyes snap open. Leigh’s refrained from saying it during sex, and not that you’ve been counting, but it’s the third time. It takes you a few seconds to process, your heart catching up with your mind, and then you notice Leigh's amused smile. 

“I love you, too,” you whisper back. You can sense that your statement simultaneously makes her both happy and sad. You wish you could make it all joy, all the time.

But that’s not how life works.

Leigh bends down, her lips brushing softly against yours before she pulls away, her breath warm on your face. “Do you think this would be easier if we hadn't said those three words to each other?” she whispers, her eyes searching yours for an answer.

You sigh, mulling over her question. “I honestly don't know,” you say, voice soft but certain. “But I couldn’t have kept it to myself, not with how I feel about you. All I know is I love you, whether you’re leaving or staying.”

Leigh's eyes well up again, but this time she lets the tears fall. She leans in, her forehead resting against yours. “Thank you,” she murmurs. 

“For what?” you ask curiously, sitting up.

Leigh wipes her tear with a dainty finger, then traces the line of your jaw before pecking you on the lips.

“For being you,” she whispers. “And for showing me that life can go on in any number of ways.”

[fanaticsnail]

Chapter 2

Masterlist here, Moodboard here.

Sapsorrow Masterlist

Word count: 6,229

A massive "thank you" to @since-im-already-here for beta-reading for me (considering we're in the same bloody house). Couldn't have done it without you or your tunes.

Song accompaniment: Leta's Theme

Themes: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, forced proximity, lord and subordinate, one bed trope, apprehension, mutual pining, obligation, slow burn, eventual love, protective, "where is my wife" trope.

Slow-slow-slow burn.

“Is this necessary?” the moss-haired sword trainee growled through clenched teeth at you. Clicking your tongue in your reprimand, you tapped the top of his left knuckles with a corrective stroke; your small conducting baton meeting with a gentle rap to kiss the back of his knuckles.

“Not only is it completely necessary, trainee,” you chastised him, dragging the baton over the back of his wrist and down his forearm as you circled behind him, “it is essential to your mastery of the art of gentlemanly correspondences.” Perona giggled, continuing to have her left hand firmly affixed to Zoro’s right shoulder, her right clasped within Zoro’s now correctively postured left hand.

“I’m no gentleman,” Zoro grunted in a harsh tone, his shoulders slouching away from the posture you just placed him in.

“A statement to which I agree with to its complete absolution,” you quipped, your tongue finding residence on the roof of your mouth. Pursing your lips, you tapped the baton in a sensitive spot beneath his armpits, prompting him again to rise to a perfect waltz position. Your pink-haired debutant was a natural when it came to attuning to your instruction, relishing in the fact she had another woman in Castle Kuraigana to converse with. However, her teasing of the green-haired trainee was becoming quite the issue to befall to you.

After the events that transpired within the ornate halls of the treasury, not a word was spoken by the three of you regarding the happenstances of your unwilling betrothal to the World’s Greatest Swordsman; nor was any utterance mentioned by the members of staff within the household. It had been two weeks from the day you entered the gloomy castle, finding awe within each of the rooms you ventured to. Perona had finished your tour of the many array of fine rooms, concluding your tour with a wing lord Dracule Mihawk had kindly provided to you.

Your wing of Castle Kuraigana was, for lack of a better word, beautiful. There was no other word you could find to describe such lavish and decorative elements throughout the room. From the curtains handing from the tall archways leading outwards to the pillars of an open balcony, the perimeter decorated with vines of green thorns and clusters of blooming white roses; to the variety of sitting areas and lounging spaces for you to move furniture to better suit your liking.

The one element you had appreciated the most was the change of the fresh floral centrepiece atop your personal dining table. In the fourteen days you had been under the lordship of Dracule Mihawk, each day had a rotation of bouquets so magnificent in ornamentation and fragrant you were rendered speechless under each presentation.

At first, you deduced the rotation of flowers was customary in each of the rooms with guests occupying their space. As you continued to meet with Perona in her wing to adjust fabrics atop her bodice or train her in language and music, you noticed the absence of magnificent bouquets showcased atop her table. In their stead, you found smaller clusters of pink roses rotating to maintain their freshness.

“Perona,” you sharply broke through the room with your reprimand, prompting her to stifle another giggle within her throat as Zoro again let out an agitated breath through his teeth, “Refrain from taunting Zoro further.” Perona nodded furiously, prompting you to roll your eyes and rotate your shoulders back to relieve yourself from a small amount of frustration.

“What did we talk about?” you drew out in a low and sharp tone, Perona rising in her posture as she continued to remain held in Zoro’s rigid arms.

“Yes, my lady,” she squeaked from behind her lips, her back arching up to bring her shoulders square with Zoro’s.

“Well done, debutant. And trainee?” you turned to Zoro, halting your stalking around their clutched perimeter. He rolled his head to lull at his side, glaring at you through his lowered eyelashes.

“Yes, my lady?” he spat in a sarcastic tone at you. Rather than to chastise him for his lack of manner, you instead reached your right hand up and offered him a gentle squeeze of his left shoulder.

“Your stance is perfect. Well done,” you complimented him with a wide smile, relinquishing your hold on his shoulder and turning towards the gramophone. Zoro’s face held a moment of perplexed silence, his eyes widening as he snapped his head back up from it’s lulled position and following your trail with his eyes.

“Th-Thank you, my lady,” he stuttered, Perona halting another giggle from exiting her lips and instead choosing to beam in pride up at her fellow pupil. Allowing your fingertips to graze along the small spindle to place the needle atop a record, you wound the box and the gramophone sprung to life; painting the room with music.

“Now, the counts,” you spoke, turning to face your two pupils once more, “hear the music. Feel the rhythm. One-two-three, one-two-three.” You waved the baton within the air, gesturing along to the beat of the music. Perona immediately began stepping in time to the melody, dragging Zoro within her arms. He stumbled in his stance, brows lowered in confusion and a gasp relinquishing in a hiss through his lips.

“No, no, Perona,” you shut your eyes, folding your arms back over your chest and clicked your tongue at her, “you let him lead you.”

“But he doesn’t know how-,” she began, halting as her eyes met with your stern gaze.

“-That’s precisely why we’re practicing, Perona,” you slowly spoke your command to her, chastising her as if she were one of your younger debutants; your tone almost singing with its melodical augmentation.

She huffed a frustrated sigh, again reaching her arms up and gesturing to Zoro to, again, reclaim her body with his waltzing stance. He lets out a small huff of his own, drawing up his arms to assume the positions he held her in prior. You smiled at him, noticing he managed to replicate his stance perfectly. Stepping closer to him, you placed your left hand over the back of his left knuckles as he clutched Perona’s right hand within his broad palm. Placing your right hand against his waist, you felt the young swordsman tense beneath your hands.

“Okay, Zoro,” you uttered into his pierced ear, shooting another tingle up his spine with your proximity to him. Opting to ignore his tense, you uttered further instruction onto him, “step forward with your right foot.”

As he stepped forward, you stepped your own foot to where his right foot was formerly placed; his action prompting Perona to step backwards onto her left foot.

“Wonderful, trainee,” you praised him, an action that almost rose a blush to his cheeks. You shook your head, mentally noting to yourself that praise and words of affirmation seem to have a hold over the green-haired swordsman. You squeezed his wrist, urging him to move with another verbal command.

“Small step to the side with your left foot,” he followed your command immediately, you placing your own left foot behind his. Perona managed to follow the small step completely. Although you were dancing a lot slower than the music was directing you, you took the small victory as you gave a final command to the tall trainee.

“Now meet your left foot by drawing your right beside it,” you squeezed the side of his waist, Zoro’s breath hitching in his throat at the small corrective gesture. He followed your command, prompting both you and Perona to glide with him.

“Perfect, Zoro. You’re doing splendidly,” you praised him again, this time Zoro unable to halt the steady red-tint from littering his cheeks with its hue. Perona looked up at Zoro’s cheeks and immediately smirked at his expression, Zoro clenching his teeth shut with a tight, clamped position.

“Now,” you addressed your pupils with a low, firm command, “let’s do it again, this time a little faster.” Zoro immediately began gliding the room with his steps, counting out to the music in his head while bowing his head. Focussing on his feet, stepping large strides with his right foot and joining his left to meet it while tapping the right foot against it on the third beat; he began slowly learning how to balance leading Perona throughout the wide room.

The three of you remained ignorant to the pair of yellow-hued eyes following your interaction as he lay hidden within the cascading shadow against the wall. As much as you were all unaware of his form’s current location, you were even more so ignorant of a small smile threatening to break through onto his cheeks as he watched you all dance together.

You smiled, still holding yourself firmly clasped against Zoro’s waist and wrist, gliding with him as he lead both you and Perona in a waltz.

“Look up,” you corrected him, relinquishing your hold on Zoro’s waist and finding Perona’s left hand. You corrected her hold on his shoulder, moving her position from a clawed shape to relax against his shoulder instead, “keep your hand like this. You’re not clinging onto him for dear life, you are dancing with him.”

“Yes, my lady,” they both affirmed your instruction. Relinquishing your hold all together on them, you stepped away and watched Zoro lead Perona throughout the beautiful, yet gloomy, room. The melody began to swell, the young swordsman continuing to swirl Perona throughout the room with his three-counted rhythm.

“As much as I would desire to instruct you to twirl,” you spoke up, your voice elevating over the music as their bodied moved further from you, “I only get to have the both of you for a short amount of time together per week.” They continued stepping throughout the perimeter, Zoro becoming more confident by the second while Perona relaxed into his guidance.

“We may make a gentleman out of you yet, Zoro,” you smiled in your tone, the music slowly crescendoing downwards in its tempo, indicating the piece was drawing to a close. Zoro grunted in response, both falling stagnant in their movements as the piece ended while still remaining held within the arms of one another.

As the wheel of the record began to scratch against the needle of the gramophone, the tap of calculated footsteps echoed throughout the room to indicate the stalking approach of the former warlord of the seas. You fell your own steps away from the approaching footsteps to remove the spindle from its scratching contact with the record, clicking the small button to halt the rotation in the process.

“Perona,” the smooth voice you assumed the footsteps would carry addressed his ward, followed by another call, “Zoro.”

“Yes, lord Mihawk?” Perona’s small voice squeaked up, prompting you to slightly look over your shoulder at them while holding firm to your back turned to the instructions they were receiving from their lord.

“Both attend to your personal tasks for the day. You’re excused,” he ordered, a sigh of relief falling from Zoro’s lips as he relinquished his rigid hold against Perona’s body.

“They are not done with their joint instruction,” you sharply called over your shoulder at the lord you served under. Continuing to pack up the disc of melody within its container, you heard the halted steps of the two young wards as they attempted to flee from your command.

“They have done enough for today,” Mihawk firmly stood his ground, his voice unwavering in his intimidation. Breathing a low and steady breath through your nose, you nodded your head in response before turning around to view the three high members of Castle Kuraigana.

“Apologies, my lord,” you bowed in a low curtsey at Mihawk, nodding your head down in submission to him, “you know what is best for your wards.” You rose from your deep curtsey, watching Perona shoot you a winced expression with her teeth clamped in a straight smile before turning and skipping out of the ballroom with haste. Zoro halted his dismissal from the ornate ballroom, turning to face both you and Mihawk again while folding his arms across his chest.

“Off you pop, Eyas,” Mihawk commanded the tall, green-haired swordsman beside him. He grunted at the nickname bestowed onto him, lips curling in a small snarl.

“And leave the two betrothed unchaperoned?” Zoro taunted in return, stepping closer to Mihawk with his unchallenging posture, “that would not be very gentlemanly, would it, Governess?” Sensing a small rise of tension between the two men beginning to become tangibly thick within the air, you turned to Zoro first and held out your palm to halt his challenge further.

“Thank you for taking your traineeship so seriously, young gentleman Zoro,” you complimented him, prompting him again to find himself off-guard by your compliments, “but this is not a courtship visit. This is simply a subordinate meeting with their lord for an exchange of relatively boring information.” You turned to lord Mihawk and removed your palm from its halting position and gestured over to him with a small, dance-like flourish.

“Unfortunately, governess,” Mihawk clicked his neck under the tension, relieving a small amount of pressure with its rotation, “this is a courtship call.”

“O-Oh,” you stuttered out a little, prompting a cocky smirk to raise against the lips of the moss-haired trainee beside him. Before Zoro could get a word out in challenging the lord of Kuraigana, you immediately swept your way towards the former warlord.

“If we are to discuss courtship,” you uttered through your clenched teeth with a small air of annoyance, “perhaps we could promenade the grounds. I am yet to explore the garden, and I am sure your staff are tending to the flowers at this time of day.”

Zoro again parted his lips and began to attempt a hasty remark, halting as Mihawk spoke up to your challenge.

“I have had tea drawn and prepared on the east-wing balcony,” Mihawk quipped, turning to the young green-haired trainee, “and if you should desire to escort your governess to the balcony, do so in silence, Nestling.”

Another grunt fell from Zoro’s lips at the challenge, prompting you to immediately draw yourself closer to the three-sword wielder and apprehensively lace your right arm within the crook of his left elbow. Both gentleman’s eyes snapped to you at this action, Zoro’s eyes widening in shock while Mihawk’s narrowed with an unreadable emotion.

“Thank you for volunteering your services, Zoro,” you uttered, tugging in a firm but discrete manner against his toned forearm to prompt him to escort you from the ballroom, “I will meet with you in the east-wing, my lord.” You curtseyed low to him, tugging Zoro down to bow at his master in tow.

“Governess,” he nodded in acknowledgement at you before turning to the man laced within your arm, “hatchling.”

“My lord,” you again spoke in your rise, turning Zoro away from the intimidating form of your apprehensively procured fiancé. Zoro immediately fell in time to your hasted pace in exiting the ballroom.

“We need to work on your tact, trainee,” you hissed at him in reprimand, prompting his frown to plaster itself against his brow, “and here I thought you were making some progress in our fortnight together.”

“Me? Progress?” Zoro quirked back, stooping down to bring his smirking face closer to you, “never.”

You hummed in response, allowing a small laugh to fall from your lips at his words. Internally, you were absolutely praising Zoro’s ability to shepherd you away from the intimidating aura of your betrothed. This was the first time he had called on you in that manner, never breaking away from professionalism in addressing you. He had barely spoken a word to you in the fourteen days you had been under his instruction.

Zoro continued to silently lead you throughout the halls, the section of the castle remaining partially foreign to you. You had chosen not to venture too far into the mysterious rooms within the beautifully crafted building, learning from your prior mistake with placing the golden circlet of moss-agate ring against your wedding finger.

At the thought, you looked to your hand at its position atop your laced right arm within Zoro’s left. You allowed a small sigh to depart from your parted lips, your brows pinching triangularly above your eyes.

“Something the matter, my lady?” Zoro’s voice apprehensively addressed you, a foreign softness indicated in his tone. Breathing out a small withheld breath you didn’t know you were carrying, you allowed a dance of vulnerability to eclipse your face.

“I never wanted this for myself, Zoro,” you uttered softly. You took the corners of your bottom lip between your teeth to halt any further emotion from pouring from your lips as you spoke to him, “Marriage, courtship: it was never a desire I held. Especially not so to someone as elevated in social status as a former warlord with the current title of world’s greatest swordsman.”

He hummed softly as he listened to you speak. Both of your footsteps halted in front of the east-wing balcony, a few members of staff continued to prepare several plates of afternoon high-tea in towered platters atop the external tables with floral centrepieces littering the room with their majestic arrangements. You breathed slowly in through your nose and held the breath tightly within your chest as you made visual contact with the staff.

Zoro unlaced his left arm from your right and chose to elevate both of his hands to grasp yours within his palms, prompting you to turn your gaze to look into his hazelnut-coloured eyes.

“And what did you want, my lady?” he whispered, keeping his eyes fixed to yours as he searched for your answer before you spoke it. Withdrawing your breath from your chest slowly, you danced your gaze between his and allowed for one more moment of vulnerability to display itself upon your face.

“I wanted a life that was mine,” you uttered slowly, watching puzzlement to draw upwards against the brow of the young swordsman. You squeezed his hands gently, rephrasing your sentence to him, “I wanted freedom to come and go as I desired. Nothing binding me to one place nor another, besides a timeline of a contract to train the next generation. I wanted-…,” you halted your words as you watched the shadowy silhouette of your betrothed grace the room with his aura of superiority and intimidation.

“You wanted…?” Zoro asked you, still holding your hands clutched firmly in his own. Breathing out a final sigh and firming up your posture to its former professional stance, you gently pulled your hands away from Zoro’s and dragged your right foot behind your left and bent lowly in a short bow.

“Thank you for your chaperone, young swordsman,” you spoke, rising from your stoop to once again meet his eyes with your expressionless face, “I have exposed enough vulnerability to you for today. Off you go.” The smile you offered him was forced onto your mouth, shielding your nerves from presenting them plainly on your face.

“You don’t have to hide vulnerability from me, my lady,” he whispered, leaning in towards you, “I find your honesty heroic, in some ways. I would never exploit them.” You shook your head at him, leaning yourself away from his descent and raising your palm to halt him.

“Such fine words you’ve crafted, Zoro,” you praised him, “perhaps you are making more progress as a gentleman than both of us had anticipated.” He smiled in response, nodding his head in a small bow. His golden piercings jangled at his bobbed movement, the light reflecting off all three of the droplets of gold as he rose back upwards. Straightening his shoulders, he offered a half-smile and brushed his shoulders past you as he made his exit from the balcony entrance; leaving you partially alone with your reluctant betrothed in his stead.

“My lord,” you began to lower again in a curtsey, halting your movement as Mihawk shook his head to you with his right palm raised to stop you stooping low to him.

“No,” he uttered in a low voice, his registry both firm and apprehensive to command you, “not while we’re here.” You quirked your head to the side, confused at his words but rotated your shoulders to fix your posture.

“How may I address you then, sir?” you cautiously spoke, stepping slowly towards the table. You felt the eyes of several members of staff holding their gaze upon your form as you approached the former warlord. Mihawk danced his body around and behind yours slowly, as if cautiously stalking a prey. He reached one of the chairs and slowly raked its frame away from the ornate table, gesturing for you to approach it.

“You may call me,” he took a moment to pause, watching your approach to the chair and effortlessly rotating your body to sit atop it, “my name, preferably. Unless you have another title you would bestow onto me, given the circumstances.” You nodded, allowing him to shepherd your body against the table with a gentle shove of the back of your chair.

“Very well,” you sighed out a frustrated breath you attempted to mask with your teeth. Rolling over several titles silently over your tongue, you settled on a term for you to give to him.

“’Mihawk’ seems awfully personal, don’t you think?” you asked him, turning your head with a smile to greet one of the members of staff as they poured the scorching marmalade-coloured liquid into the porcelain teacup in front of you.

“It is my name,” he confirmed with you, holding his hawk-like gaze fixed to your form. He watched intently as you whispered a gentle expression of gratitude to his staff as they completed their presentation of tea and accompaniments towards you. He almost allowed a small click of his tongue to exit his mouth in disgust at the way your perfect smile pulled at the corners of your lips, but refrained from doing so regardless.

From his rough presentation, all those present could view his intensity as a perpetual state of complete loathing. From his frown littering his brow, to his lips almost curling in its straightened position beneath his meticulously maintained moustache; he hated you. Hatred could be the only thoughts that littered his highly educated mind, loathing and malice pulling at every fibre of his being at being swindled against his will to marry someone of lesser status than him.

That is exactly what you pinned his intensity to, as you continued to balance both your examination and aloofness effortlessly in your orchestrated air of ‘blissful ignorance’ under his unwavering gaze.

But to Mihawk, it was quite the opposite. No, to Lord Dracule Mihawk: he was baring his piercing gaze against your form to draw out a small fault to your character. His laced fingers in front of his face, his elbows pressed firmly against the tablecloth and his back began to hunch over to bare a further intense examination of you. Although he was still seething in rage at the happenstances of his engagement, he could not have hoped for a more perfect match to be made for him.

He had been watching, waiting, studying. He had been accumulating information from his staff regarding your routine. He had even found himself discretely asking after you when he met with his ward for their usual instruction. He had even begun bringing you up in conversation after a sparring match with his young eyas – a chick in comparison to his mighty hawk. He had even found his thoughts floating to you while he worked hard and laborious within his vineyard; often finding himself plucking and arranging his vineyard guarding flowers to don the table on your wing daily.

Initially, he wanted you to find your welcome within his castle as an underling; a staff of hire of the highest regard; hence the first arrangement. The second arrangement came out of duty, him wanting to present a small arrangement of flowers to demonstrate his ability to grow. The third, he found himself thinking hard about your character: what he knew, what he wanted to express in gratitude at your abilities to balance Perona’s intensity in her mannerisms and needs, while managing Zoro’s abrasiveness and – for lack of a better word – “shit” and unrefined attitude.

As the four of you took the afternoon meal together, he would often catch you showering praises to the groundskeeper regarding the demonstration of the florals: informing him of your affection for the pairing of the Tokaji vine leaves amongst the pale guardian roses. The groundskeeper was silenced as he glanced over at his lord, opting to take the compliment for himself rather than to inform her it was not he that was arranging her daily gifts.

“If not my name,” he uttered, breaking himself away from his thoughts as he unlaced his fingertips and reclined slightly in his own chair, “what would you call me?” You parted your lips and breathed slowly to halt the tempo arising of your heartbeat within your chest, again opting to roll another title over your tongue.

“Would you be opposed to the title of simply: ‘betrothed’?” you recalled Zoro calling the two of you that title within the ballroom moments prior, “I would not be offended should you bestow the same title onto me, my lor-.”

“-Betrothed,” he interrupted your train of thought with his own utterance. He hissed out an angered breath, but after taking a moment to collect himself, offered a simple, “will suffice.”

Both allowing an uncomfortable pause to befall you, you both silently reached for the porcelain teacups set in front of you. You curled your right fingertips beneath the handle and drew up the liquid to your lips. Testing the temperature of the brew with your bottom lip collected at the rim, you deemed the liquid at an appropriate measure to sip at it. You closed your eyes, savouring the lemon-scented and aromatically imbued floral tea over your palate.

Although the habit was drilled out of you in your youth, if a beverage or liquid had harboured a particular fondness within your heart, you could not halt yourself from flicking your tongue in a small darted movement to collect any liquid you had spilt over the brim at your collection. Even if there was no spill to be found, this small quirk was carried with you regardless.

Mihawk’s eyes widened at this small exposure of your pink tongue exiting from your lips and darting to dampen the porcelain rim of the teacup with your eyes closed. He was transfixed by this small maneuver of your tongue; something so simple and innocent holding him hostage to the pounding of his heart.

“Well then, betrothed,” you sighed, feeling the sting of apprehension attached to your tongue as you uttered his new title to him, “why would you call on me for a courtship dalliance this day? You interrupted my lessons with your wards.” You placed the teacup back into its holding place within the saucer, lacing your fingertips within one another and placing the edge of your pinkie fingers against the tabletop.

“That I did, belove-,” he halted the title within his parted lips, wincing at his mistake before uttering his correction, “-betrothed.” You took a moment to hold your aloof and surly attitude upon your face, your gaze hyper-focussed on his face with an emotionless expression. Internally, however, you were caught completely off-guard by how easily his bestow of affectionate title fell from his lips; but chose not to tease nor address it at this moment.

“By all means, continue,” you quirked up the corner of your right lips to usher him to produce such an explanation to his interruption of your instruction of your mutual wards. You hooked your right knee over your left and fixed your shoulders upright to affirm your secured and confident posture.

“I have called you here for,” he hissed out a sigh through his nose, his shoulders almost slouching in his defeated posture, “measurements.”

“Measurements?” you quirked your brows upwards in question, watching as three women and a highly stung gentleman entered the east-wing foyer: their intensity and professionalism following them with their entrance. Mihawk nodded, raising his porcelain teacup to his lips and taking a small sip from the object.

Immediately without addressing you, two of the women bullied you into a standing position and began wrapping you with silks and satin ribbons to tighten around your waist and forearms; the other dropping to her knees to take the circumference of your knees, calves and thighs.

“Excuse me,” you hissed out in response, frowning as they continued to shove your body to suit their relative needs. You felt overwhelmed, overburdened by their instruction and having your body stumble against its will under their ministrations. As the gentleman began to hold his thumb and four-fingers perpendicular to your hips and most intimate areas, you slapped the top of his wrists with your hands in defence of your body.

“That’s quite enough, sir,” you uttered through clenched teeth at the man you just hit, watching as his eyes met yours. You had not met with such a widened intensity of the globes of two irises before, noticing the other three members circling your form had a similar air of urgency littering their faces. Your scowl deepened against your brow, watching as the women continued to tie your arms, ankles and shoulders with their bands. Your heartrate quickened, your apprehension growing in your uncertainty.

“That’s enough,” the lord of Kuraigana addressed the staff circling your body.

“My lord, we are yet to get a-,” the gentleman’s words lay stifled within his breath as Mihawk hastily strode over to collect the measuring ribbon from within his firm grasp.

Mihawk sought out your gaze with an iron-like intensity, darting his eyes between focus on each of yours to wordlessly seek your permission. Your breath again found itself caught in your throat as the read on his face was almost revealed to you. He was a man desperate, you thought to yourself. Finding yourself to have any reason or air of apprehension, you slowly elevated your arms out to the side, welcoming the former-warlord to circle the material over your waist to collect itself atop your pelvis.

“You required intricate garments, yes?” Mihawk uttered in a low tone, collecting the ribbon within a pinch of his index finger and thumb on his left hand while notating the read with his right hand collecting a quill from the gentleman below you. You were rendered speechless, not at all anticipating this be the first courtship call you experienced with the former warlord of the seas.

Opting to remain silent and holding a scowl permanently attached to your face, you almost had your air escape you as he slipped his hands upwards to your chest, relinquishing the pool of material to gather the appropriate measurement of your breasts.

“And lingerie,” he confirmed, a small smirk arising to his lips; hidden beneath his bearded chin and moustached upper lip. You relinquished your hitched breath, quirking your chin to the side and slowly clamping your eyelids shut.

“That I did, betrothed,” you spat at him, watching carefully as his amber-hued eyes once again met with your own. If your breath had not already held stifled within your chest moments prior, you felt at risk of choking entirely under the intensity of his gaze. His irises bore the intensity of a dehydrated man searching for the quench of iced water; the intensity of a man desperate for his first hot meal amongst weeks of miliary rations.

“What is wrong-,” you began your probing question towards the man tied by destiny to you.

“You have cursed my soul,” he growled in a snarled frown, “and I am now slave to your request.”

You sucked in a breath, unwilling to bare the brunt of his rage; you reached forward and claimed his wrists within your circled grasp.

“Oh, please,” you spat at him, challenging him with the angle of your chin; “I beg your pardon, my lor-.”

“Don’t,” he spat, his rage holding firm to his brow. Your eyes widened under his intense crystalline graze. Unaccustomed to receiving this form of formal reprimand, you refused to succumb beneath its foreignness.

“I meant no-,” you began again, your words this time halting as you felt the firm press of a forehead against your own. Mihawk’s eyes were closed in a harsh snap, the wrinkles of his crow’s feet laying prominent against the apples of his cheeks as he rose his right hand up to collect your jaw. All manner of professionalism left your body, your arms relinquishing their presence laying outstretched beside you and instinctively falling to the nape of the neck laid before you.

You felt his darkened locks graze against your fingertips, your eyes closing in response to this unrestrained caress. As you allowed a moment of silence to fall beneath you, the only aspect of the embrace falling between you were the elongated, shared inhale and exhale of air between your breath.

“I am trying my best, my lady,” you heard his voice utter in a tone only meant for your ears, a whimper caught within his mouth at the title, “but your demands are-,” he paused pressing further into your embrace, his body almost becoming flush with your own, “seemingly impossible.”

This was not at all what you were expecting on a Wednesday afternoon, your timetable mostly occupied with training Perona in the art of conversation and musicality scheduled for the remainder of the day. As you felt Mihawk almost give into the touch, you raked your right palm over his chest and held him away from falling further into your body. As you began to speak, you were once again hushed by his voice.

“The moon,” he winced, “the starlit sky,” his body almost seemed to cave in its stoop against your own, “the-,” you felt your own breath hitch again alongside his own, “-the sun.” His body, although holding you close and flush with his own, felt an arms-length away.

“You’re withholding something from me,” you whispered against him, noses brushing as you felt your lips unconsciously drawing towards his own.

“My business is my own, my lady-,” you chose this moment to interrupt his speech.

“-your betrothed,” you corrected him, your right arm holding firm its place against his chest. Allowing another moment of vulnerability to break through the surface of your iron-clad armament; you elaborated further.

“As your wife,” you almost winced through your expression, “I am to become privy to all that ails you.” Mihawk sucked in a shaken breath, grasping at your jaw with his firm grip, his fingertips raking at the skin of your neck.

“That may be true,” he chose to utilise one more moment joining his forehead against your own before completely pulling away from your embrace, “but you are not. Not yet, anyway.” He turned his body away from yours, leaving you almost gasping for breath at the intensity of your absence. He effortlessly relayed your measurements to the tailors and waved them off to excuse them from their servitude.

“You could take as long as you desired,” you uttered quietly, in a voice above a whisper, ”why would you desire to pursue such an undertaking with haste? I gave-,” you halted your next words, prompting a pause to rise from the former warlord. You sucked in a small breath, “-I gave you an out. Why would you pursue it, my lo-,” you shook your head, “-my betrothed?”

“Because you challenged me,” he offered, his body turning to face you once more with a small smirk rising to his cheeks, “and I am not once to shy away from a challenge.” You stepped your body further toward him, your own aura of professionalism again rising to your body in reaction to his own.

“Is that all I be to you, Mihawk?” you hushed your tone, screaming at him with your intense gaze, “an object to simply be conquered?” Mihawk backed his step behind himself, his posture almost seeming to stumble; but recover quickly under its retreat.

After taking a moment to collect himself, he allowed a small smile to rise to his face as he recited a small poetic and melodic saying to you.

“The ten rings of the Sapsorrow queen, all riddled with charm,” he breathed out to you, his voice humming to the air, “none can break from its challenger’s gleam, or cause the commissioner harm.”

You furrowed your brows, shaking your head slightly at the poetry he uttered.

“I don’t understand,” you spoke in a completely clear utterance.

“You will,” Mihawk informed you with a similar lilt in his vocals.

“Perona,” the green-haired swordsman addressed in passing to the pink-haired ward.

“Zoro,” she nodded her greeting back to him as they began their ascension and descension towards one another. As if in complete synchrony, their footsteps halted mere metres away from one another. Zoro sucked in a breath through his nose, while Perona hissed an inhale against her pearled teeth.

“Do you think he-,” Perona began, halting her words as Zoro spoke atop her.

Tag List:

“-He’s fucking infatuated,” Zoro completed their mutual thought.

@writingmysanity @gingernut131414 @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @be-good-please @little-bunnybabe @sukilovesyou @buggyenjoyer @thesnailus @under-kitty @acehyacinth @andriannag

[finelinevogue]

hot summer nights

summary - a warm summers evening with your one and only

word count - >1k

Summer had finally arrived. In Autumn.

August had rolled into September and everyone was preparing for wet weather, thunderstorms and miserable grey clouds.

So it was a surprise to everyone when the sun decided to come out and the temperatures decided to shoot up to the high 20s in the first week of September.

And good weather meant only one thing in the UK; beer garden.

You and Harry were currently getting ready to go, having texted the group chat of your closest friends for you to all meet at ‘The Rose Inn’ at 6PM.

Harry had decided to have a shower, dragging you in behind him even though you really didn’t need one. He just couldn’t keep you away from him for too long.

After you, too long, shower, Harry started looking for an outfit whilst you dried your hair.

Harry offered to finish drying the rest off for you whilst you started on your makeup, knowing how much you hate being late. Your makeup would’ve been done faster if Harry hadn’t been stood behind you with just a towel around his waist.

The both of you cleaned up very nicely.

Harry was wearing some beige linen trousers, a white t-shirt and a baby blue cardigan, whilst you wore a gorgeous baby pink dress that had a floral pattern on. Both of you looked summer ready.

“Babe! Let’s go!” You shouted to Harry, who was nowhere to be seen since about half an hour ago.

You pulled your pink Stompers, yes you call them Stompers, out of the shoe cupboard and slip them on, knowing that Harry will already be wearing his and you can match.

You go to the mirror in the hallway and readjust your hair that’s slipping out of place already.

This stupid heat.

You walked into the kitchen to grab some snacks in case you got hungry, before returning to the hallway.

“H?” You called out again. “C’mon let’s go!”

You looked at your phone and noticed you were already running ten minutes late. If you were another ten minutes late then you might as well not go.

The sound of the back door shutting caught you off guard and you suddenly understood where he had been.

You heard the sound of jingles before you saw anything. You crouched down on the floor in preparation for your Cavapoo to bound up to you and give you lots of kisses.

“Hello!” You said in your dog voice as Fred rounded the corner. Fred, Freddie, Frederick - whatever you wanted to call him - was your two year old Cavapoo that Harry had bought you to keep you company when he was on tour.

“Hello there my gorgeous little baby.” You entertained Fred as you heard Harry walk through the kitchen towards you.

When he emerged, you felt your breath hitch a little.

He looked so good.

You had seen him half an hour ago and he still looked the same, but damn did he look good. There was something about him today that made you just want to stick to him like a koala bear would a tree. He looked so soft and… yours.

“What?” He asked, looking down at where you were looking up at him.

“Nothing, just… admiring you.”

“Okay, alright.” He smiled with a heavy blush, “Let’s go before I turn red.”

“You already are red.”

“Shut up and move your cute arse.” He giggled, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes.

Harry attached Fred’s lead onto his harness and handing you over the leash, as the two of you made your way outside.

The pub wasn’t that far away from you two, so walking was the easiest option for getting there. Of course, you do live in the countryside so you have to hurdle some styles and dodge some cows, but the country walks are always your favourite.

The air is fresh and clean and the world feels a little bit more yours out here. You’re in control and Harry is too. You can decide your own choices.

Then again, you are only a twenty minute drive into London if you want to be.

Fred enjoyed the walk as much as you did. Harry walked alongside you, walking on the outside of the pavement when he needed to and he held your hand the entire time. Even when you were both getting a little clammy from the heat, he just moved to holding one finger of yours instead.

“Mrs Brown came over this morning, did I tell you?” Harry said, as you were a few minutes away from approaching the pub.

“What? When I went shopping?” You asked, being forced to stop by Fred who was sniffing for something amongst the grass.

“Yeah. She offered to bake us some strawberry tarts for your birthday party. I said yes, obviously.”

“We’re going to have so many desserts, H.” You laughed.

“Yeah, but mums bringing pizzas and pasta salads remember? And I think Gem is making some sort of vegan Greek dish. We’ll be fine.”

Harry kissed your forehead to keep you from stressing, before shouting to Fred to hurry up.

“Can you make your treacle pudding too?” You asked shyly.

“Just for you, though.” Harry nodded.

“Just for me.” You hummed in delight. “Ah, it’s going to be a good birthday.”

“Our fifth one of yours together.”

“Really? I’ve put up with you for that long? Wow.” You teased.

Harry tugged on your hand for you to stop, pretending to scoff and then pulling you against his chest tightly so you couldn’t escape. He kissed you then and there, on the side of the road, like you both had no tomorrow. One hand around your waist and the other still attached to your hand.

Both of you melted into one another and neither pulled away first. You both had to move, though, when Fred started getting restless and excited over his parents together.

“Never stop doing that.” You smiled up at him with stars in your eyes.

“What?” He smiled back.

“Surprising me. Kissing me.” You pecked his lips again for a short moment. “Loving me.”

“It’s not even possible to think about.” Harry meant it as he kissed you again, softly.

The summer breeze chose this moment to blow and it made your hair blow like crazy. Your dress blew with it and you noticed Harry’s cardigan flap open a little too. It looked like some shot out of a perfume photoshoot.

Harry helped you straighten out your dress and reorganise your hair, before kissing you again.

[linnamonrolls0]

The Winner Takes It All

LMM!Hermes x Reader

Summary:

“devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes what doesn’t kill me makes me want you more…”

You accidentally find your way into the Lotus Casino, where a certain Greek god takes a keen interest in a game of poker, a sweet deal, and… you.

Rating: Mature

Words: 4,480

A/N:

I wasn’t gonna write this… until I saw some hater saying they’d [redacted] if they saw a LMM!Hermes x Reader fic show up - so naturally, being the disastrous Lin simp that I am, I HAD TO DO IT. After all, learning from the best in proving the naysayers wrong…

A lot of this was written pre-episode, allow it with a few inconsistencies and a lot of research-induced additions!

Mixtape... bloop - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6v2ZfRamJRh8eP6qOqz4ND

Chapter 1: When The Chips Are Down

Contrary to popular belief, apparently it is possible to get lost in Las Vegas.

You were only strolling the Strip with a group of friends on the last day of your whirlwind vacation, but soon enough you found yourself at a dead end, unsure of what turn you’d even taken to get there. 

Hoping to locate a restroom and some means of connectivity to contact your friends, you beelined for the nearest building, flashily labelled the Lotus Hotel and Casino: upon glancing upward, you were met with the sight of a forty-storey tower, with a wide open entrance marked by a blooming neon-bright lotus flower in front of you. It was the sort of place you would expect to be buzzing with life, but oddly enough nary a soul lingered by the shining silver doors; just stillness and silence, save for the muffled music pounding from somewhere inside.

Though you felt overwhelmingly uneasy, that entrance carried a strange magnetism that compelled you to step inside. Something that suggested all your fear would be put to rest the moment you walked through those doors… or into that flower, at least.

You tucked your hands under your sleeves and drew in a deep breath, before you crossed the petalled threshold into an opulent lobby decorated with lotus plants in intricately designed pots and inviting plush couches around the circular hall. The air conditioning was a welcome relief from the Nevada summer heat, and the whole place seemed to glow in a dark shade of pink. 

You immediately felt an invisible weight ease off of your shoulders as you entered… What had you come here to look for, again?

Right, a phone charger and somewhere to pee. Of course, basic human necessities, how could you forget those so quickly?

Interrupting your line of thought, you paused in your tracks when a tall Barbie doll materialised in front of you, dressed in bright pink from head to toe; upon first glance she looked like some sort of projection, as though she wasn’t real at all.

“Welcome to the Lotus Hotel and Casino,” she greeted you in an almost robotic voice, with a plastic smile stretched across her face, holding out a shimmering green card. “Here’s your Cash Card, have a great time!”

“Cash… what? Do I have to pay for this?” you stuttered, confused beyond belief as you took the card. What was this place?

“No, not a penny!” She shook her head; not a single strand of her perfectly coiffed blonde hair shifted out of place. “Would you like a tour? Here, have a drink. Only the best in the world here!” 

She offered you a glass goblet, filled to the brim with a dark maroon liquid and topped with blueberries, bearing the same eerie magnetism as the doors had done minutes before. You eyed the drink dubiously, brows furrowed as you sniffed it in a futile attempt to ascertain what exactly it was.

“I’m alright, thank you,” you politely declined, “What is—”

But before you could finish your question, the Barbie doll had disappeared as suddenly as she’d arrived, and the moment you sipped the strong floral drink, your questions completely evaporated.

Following your curiosity, you craned your neck and looked up to see endless floors lined with rooms and doors and glass balconies, with a pair of glass elevators in the middle. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if the great glass elevator could shoot through the ceiling like something out of a children’s book.

At least there were more people in here, though you were certain they too had just appeared as if by magic; not acknowledging you at all, they milled about in the lobby and outside the doors to the casino, beside to what appeared to be an arcade full of excited children playing classic and modern video games alike. Regardless of age, all the guests were clad in fancy-dress costumes; you figured perhaps there was an event taking place that had its attendees reflecting different eras of fashion. Wouldn’t be unusual for this town, everyone was dressed crazy and after three days traversing Sin City’s myriad clubs and casinos, nothing fazed you - or perhaps the effects of whatever you’d taken at that club last night still hadn’t fully worn off, who knew…

Still in a bit of a daze, you floated toward the immense double doors leading to the Casino, already hearing the jingling of slot machines singing proud over the pounding pop beats as their backing track.

The casino was lit by ornate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, deliberately dimmed to give way to the bright, flashing lights of the various gaming machines assembled around the hall, surrounding a set of card tables in its centre. Chatter and laughter filled the room and people crowded around the tables, playing without a care in the world and having the time of their lives; everyone seemed to have a goblet in hand and a cash card in the other, not dissimilar to your current state. It was warmer in here, though still comfortable enough that you could breathe… Just about.

You wandered through and your attention was glued to a game of roulette at a table beside you, where a couple had just won who knows what, when you were interrupted by a greeting that you just somehow knew was directed at you.

“Well, hello, there,” you heard in a smooth, low tenor behind you.

You whirled around on your heel to be met by… a guy. Literally just a guy, casually leaning on his gorgeously tanned forearms on a nearby craps table, aimlessly toying with a pair of dice in his left hand as he gazed over at you. He was certainly easy on the eyes with his vaguely familiar but handsome face, a mischievous little smirk on his lips, and pretty brown eyes that sparkled in the flashing lights… There was something about those eyes that drew you in. And for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away…

He looked like the most normal person in the room, but he seemed entirely out of place, given that everyone else was dressed to the nines - meanwhile he wore a comfy tan hoodie and sweatpants set, as if he perhaps owned it all and subsequently had no rules to follow in this already-lawless land. When he stepped around his table to approach you, he certainly did swagger around like he ruled the place, and his companions nearby looked at him like they worshipped the ground he walked on. Perhaps he was important, but how were you to know?

“You come here often?” he flirted, just about the most awful pickup line imaginable, but you were past the point of questioning why it still sounded attractive.

How had you ended up here, anyway? Hell knew… But this was Sin City, after all; a little harmless flirting could do you no harm, surely… 

“Nope, never been here before. But weirdly, I don’t want to leave…” you shrugged, taking another sip of that strangely addictive drink.

“Sounds about right, Miss…”

“[Y/N],” you offered casually, uncharacteristically not hesitant.

“Pleasure to meet you…” he said with a playful lilt to his tone, holding out a hand, “They call me Hermes.”

When you shook his hand, for a split second you could’ve sworn you weren’t there anymore - when his smooth hand held yours, something akin to a firework went off inside your mind, and you’d put it down to just sparks if not for the phantom breeze you felt just then, a gust that nearly knocked you off your feet.

You couldn’t place what it was, exactly, but there was something strange about this man. He bore an almost otherworldly quality, as though he wasn’t human at all… But how could he be anything else? Come to think of it, there was a similarly supernatural energy about the casino itself; no wonder he fit right in to this weird wonderland.

“What, you got a Birkin in your back pocket or something, Mr Hermes?” you laughed, trying to shake off that odd suspicion, only to be met by his indignant scowl. Even that was cute.

“And what business do you have with my back pockets?” he teased, tucking one hand into the front pocket of his hoodie, to which you raised an intrigued brow.

You shrugged, nonchalant, still reeling from that strange feeling. “Nothing yet, but perhaps I’d like to find out…”

“Obviously I do not, but I could hook you up.” The innuendo wasn’t lost on you, least of all when Hermes smirked, that patented brand of mischief you were quickly growing quite fond of as he swaggered across to the card table; the players welcomed him back gladly. “Care for a game?” he asked, seemingly winning one without even paying attention to it as he rolled the dice carelessly onto the table that stood between you.

As he retrieved the dice, you eyed his hands curiously; they could only be described as pretty, as though he might be a pianist or… an artist of some description. He had his sleeves rolled back and a gold-plated Rolex glimmered on one wrist, a chunky gold chain-link bracelet on the other, and something about that on him was distractingly attractive. It all screamed money, despite his casual tracksuit getup, which would’ve been nothing special if it didn’t look so needlessly expensive in itself. You absently wondered what that obscure tattoo on his ring finger meant, for surely it couldn’t imply he might be taken…

“It’s not like you have anything to lose,” Hermes commented, interrupting your line of thought as he set a few chips down on the table and retrieved his own green Cash Card from his pocket, holding it up to show you. So everyone had them; then, what was the point?

Oh, right. You likely couldn’t do anything with the money outside, so, go figure it was an unlimited free pass.

“I guess I’m in. After all, what you gonna do when the chips are down?” you quoted a challenge, holding your own smug look at the recognition in his eyes.

“I see you speak my language…” he teased, “Even if those aren’t exactly my words.”

“Funny you should mention that. Has anyone ever told you you look a bit like Lin-Manuel Miranda?”

“So I’ve been told! Though, I think the correct expression would be that he looks like me. Same difference, he’s me, I’m him, whatever.” He waved a flippant hand, as if instructing you to ask no further questions on the topic.

“Gotcha…” You laughed, putting this all down to a wacky dream by now as you joined him by the card table. “What is this, anyway?” you asked him, raising your goblet in his general direction. He was the only person here without one, which didn’t entirely make sense to you, even in the logic of twisted fever dreams.

“Raise a glass to freedom… and throw it the fuck away,” he sang with a laugh, “Seriously, though, that’s a little addictive psychedelic beverage called blue lotus wine. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t drink a drop.”

“And what if I already did?”

“Well, then you’re well and truly screwed…” Hermes grinned, mischief dancing in his dark brown eyes. He swiped the half-full glass out of your hand and knocked back the remainder of the wine in one quick gulp, his gaze never leaving yours as he deposited the empty glass on a tray carried away by one of those apparating Barbie waitresses. “And now, so am I.”

He waved over another waitress and grabbed two new glasses of wine off her tray, politely handing one to you. He brought his glass to his lips, slowly sipping at the wine as you eyed his hand wrapped around the glass, absently wondering what that seemingly delicate touch would feel like on you… There was no reason why the simple act of this man drinking hallucinatory wine should’ve been remotely sexy, but you could say the same for him in general; this shouldn’t work, but god damn, it does.

“Was that really the best idea if it’s—” you began, and he quickly cut in.

“Absolutely not, no, but if you come here to forget, you may as well do it right…” Hermes sighed, a momentary flash of resignation in his stance as he briefly let his shoulders droop. “Anyway, whatever, fuck real life. Let’s play?” he offered, running a hand through his dark hair, seemingly shaking himself out of the memory of whatever haunting reality had led him here. As a matter of fact, what had led you here?

“Sure,” you smiled, “What are we playing? I’m pretty sure I saw an arcade on my way in…”

“Come on, there’s no stakes in that! This is where the real fun’s at,” he said with a light laugh, gesturing to the craps table in front of you.

“Speak for yourself. I’ll have you know, I’m amazing at air hockey!”

“Yeah? I’m a killer at the claw machine, so go figure.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Cute. Shame they don’t have an escape room.”

“Just as well, I’ve always been a little too good with locks… Besides, this place itself is an escape room. Only, there’s no escape…”

“Wait, what?”

“Because… You want to stay, right? What’s waiting for you outside?”

Suddenly, you found yourself struggling to answer his question. Where barely a few moments ago, everything had been so clear, now you could see a hazy cloud inside your mind as you desperately searched for the answer to no avail, almost as though that hallucinogen was beginning to hit hard… 

“Outside? What’s outside? I — I could stay here — You’re… Huh?” you stuttered, “I don’t know where else I’d go.”

Hermes sighed, glancing over at you. “Literally anywhere but here.”

“Sorry?” you questioned, brows furrowed. Had you misread his signals?

“Walk with me,” he offered, and so you obliged as he stepped towards you again. You followed his lead as he strolled on within the confines of the casino, glancing surreptitiously around as though making sure you weren’t being eavesdropped on - though you could only wonder why.

“Alright, I don’t normally do this…” he drawled, “But for some reason I’m taking a liking towards you; and all trickery aside, I don’t take unfair advantage, so here’s the secret. You ever heard of Odysseus and the Lotus Eaters?” he asked seriously; you nodded your assurance. “Well, this place is kinda like their island… Only, now it’s here in the modern world, and what better place for it than Sin City? Hence the lightness in the air and the endless supply of blue lotus wine…”

You eyed him curiously, willing him to go on and trying not to focus on his initial confession. “I guess that explains a lot. So this is… eternal psychedelic bliss?”

“Yep, that good old adrenaline and dopamine rush, forever and ever and everrrrr… Half of Olympus has tried to claim it, but nobody really knows whose work of chaotic genius this was.” He shrugged nonchalantly, not at all like he was explaining such an outlandish concept. “When you’re in a casino, time just seems to work differently - and just like that, time moves at its own distorted pace in here. Lost travellers often find their way into this place, it has that draw when you stray off your path - and that’s why I hang out here, not just to wander astray from my own shit, but to guide you back to yours. I’m not immune to this,” he raised his glass, gesturing to the wine, “But I can handle the air just fine, unlike most mortals…”

“And what if I want to get lost?” you challenged, plucking his glass out of his hand, holding his gaze as you brought the drink to your lips. His gaze remained fixed on you as he bit his own lip, his eyes flickering to your lips for a millisecond as you sipped the wine; thirsty, not dissimilar to the way you’d been eyeing him mere seconds ago.

“Mmkay, lucky for you, I have some semblance of sense about me,” Hermes said, stopping by a poker table nearby, where the players immediately cleared a spot for the pair of you. Entirely nonchalant, he swiped a deck of cards off the table, expertly shuffling it as he spoke, “So win the next deal, and I’ll get you out of here.”

“So if I lose, I’m stuck in here?” you attempted to clarify the stakes, trying not to get distracted as you watched him shuffle those cards. Hell, he had such pretty hands, what else could you do but wonder what else he could do with them?

“Pretty much.”

“And what if I ask for a better deal?”

“Better than having your real life back?”

“Yep.”

“Try me…”

“Okay. If I win, my prize is you.”

“Me? What’s the catch?”

“Nothing. Just, you and me, until not even the gods above can separate the two of us,” you teased, peak dramatic, somewhere between flirting and floating. You could get used to this, the weightless feeling of flight…

Hermes quirked a brow at you, undeniably amused. “Interesting thought, given that I’m… well, not above, per se, but one of them.”

“You’re… what now?” You tilted your head to one side, looking curiously across at him. What in the world was he on about?

He shot you a pointed stare, isn’t it obvious? But it wasn’t, until now… when it all began to make sense, slowly: what this place was, how he knew so much about it, why he had a more heightened sense of awareness despite the inherent hypnotism of the literal and metaphorical lotus flower you’d stepped into… And he could guide lost travellers out. Your jaw dropped as your hand flew to your mouth when it finally dawned upon you who and what he was, and what that entailed —

And out loud, all you could manage was a whisper; “Oh, my god…”

The Greek god in front of you heaved a dramatic sigh, aiming a playful eye-roll in your direction. “Please, like I haven’t heard that one before,” he chuckled lightly, the sarcasm heavy in his tone.

And so you let him deal your hand and you played, stopping every so often to laugh, for Hermes was surprisingly fun to be around and perhaps staying here with him wouldn’t be so bad… Only, this couldn’t be his permanent residence. He was the god of travel, it made sense that he never hung around one place long enough to settle. It was obvious he had a natural charisma about him that clearly worked in his favour more than once; and not that it really mattered, but you absently wondered how many like you had crossed paths with him before, and the past baggage he’d been trying to forget was certainly not lost on you…

He had his right arm slung casually around your shoulder, his left occupied by his cards, not caring if you could see them. You tried your level best to stay focused; for you were feeling a little lightheaded by now, a combination of the wine and the strong scent of his cologne… He was close, enough that you could pick up the gentle sweet notes beneath the woody cedar scent he wore.

“All in?” you suggested, nudging your chips toward the centre of the table, glancing up at the literal god beside you.

“I am if you are,” Hermes smirked, pushing his own ridiculous amount of chips into the pot beside yours.

The game went on; and as if out of nowhere, thanks to a sudden turn in your luck and a surprise royal flush - which if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve attributed to him - you had finally won. Caught up in the daze, you stepped up onto your toes and threw your arms around his neck in an excited hug. He was momentarily taken aback by it, but quickly regained enough composure to gently wrap his arms around you. His soft touch bore a pleasantly startling contrast to his mischievous demeanour, and you found yourself not wanting to let go.

“Well played…” he congratulated you in that same teasing tone as he gently drew you back, briefly glancing at his watch and tapping two fingers against the side of the dial.

Perhaps you would’ve wondered why, but spurred on by your victory and high off the adrenaline, you hooked one finger in the gold chain around his neck and gently tugged at it to urge him closer, until the distance between you was barely a hair’s breadth. You could feel the warmth radiating off him in waves, his intense cologne flooding your senses. And suddenly it didn’t faze you that you were in public, and you paid no mind to the way all his casino companions were frozen around you instead of continuing their games… Suddenly, all you wanted was him. 

Was it blasphemous to lust after a god?

Hell, you could deal with the consequences of that later, for right now, his magnetism was pulling you in and you couldn’t bear to look away from those deep, dark brown eyes… Until Hermes leant closer to you and his soft lips brushed yours as he spoke, barely above a whisper yet you could hear him clearly despite the noise, “Not at all…”

Your breathing hitched, at his comment, at his proximity, at… everything about this. How the fuck did he know what you’d been thinking? 

Perhaps you’d dwell on that longer, but just then he reached up to cup your cheek. Though unexpectedly tender, his touch was white hot where his skin met yours, but pleasurably so as you let yourself get lost in it, in him… He pressed his lips to yours in two delicate little pecks, clearly just teasing, and you just about caught sight of his smirk before you stepped up onto your toes to kiss him again, for real this time. His other hand smoothly dropped to your waist, holding you against him and you pulled at his chain with your finger still caught in it, curling your other fist in the soft cotton of his hoodie.

Apparently, even the gods weren’t immune to carnal need, and Hermes was evidently faring no better than you; he gave in to the kiss quickly, all but melting into you, his tongue swiping insistently at your bottom lip, and you weren’t about to stop him. You parted your lips for him, granting him access instead of prolonging this teasing that had left you both desperate. He tasted of something indescribably sweet, mixed with the rich taste of the blue lotus wine that you’d both downed not so long ago, and you already knew he was a far better intoxicant than any drink you’d find here… As he deepened the kiss, his tongue brazenly tasting yours, borderline hungry; you saw a flash of light behind your eyelids, gripped by the feeling that you were flying, all for a mere moment before you became hyperaware of his heated touch and the fact that your feet were still firmly planted on the soft floral-patterned carpet of the casino.

It felt like time had frozen, the world had stopped around you, and nothing mattered except for him and you and the most perfect kiss you’d ever had…

But somehow, instead of clouding your thoughts like you’d expected, you drew back from his kiss with some clarity. Hermes had told you he could never lose. So why, then, had you just managed to win this? You were no expert when it came to these games, and he was clearly a well-seasoned gambling master… Had the notorious trickster god manipulated the deal in your favour? Had he purposely thrown this away for you?

The glimmer in his eyes only looked brighter as you separated, yet somehow those deep browns looked darker, lust clearly getting the better of him; and he made no effort to hide it, despite his small smile and the lightest hint of a blush on his cheeks. You were fairly sure you mirrored it all, and you were in no hurry to let him go…

Only, as the world began to come back into focus, you realised time really had stopped around you: everything and everyone in the casino was frozen, and you glanced up at the god in front of you with a mix of curiosity and fear in your eyes. “When you said you could stop time…” you began, still in disbelief.

Hermes nodded slowly, meeting your gaze with that characteristic smirk. “Yeah, I meant that literally. I may have had a running out of time crisis once, hence… this stolen life-saver,” he explained, raising his wrist to show you his watch - now upon closer inspection, you realised the hour, minute and second hands all pointed to 12, and he hovered a finger over a button at the side of the dial. “It’s up to you. Want me to bring it back?”

You shook your head. Not only did that beautiful gold timepiece look unfairly gorgeous on his wrist; it also held a piece of magic that could be incredibly useful… “No,” you whispered, “I’m in no hurry. Let’s make this last…”

You tilted your chin up towards him again, and he obliged you with another sweet little kiss. “Well, then… Perhaps I could show you some of the wonders of existing beyond space and time…” he murmured, “What d’you say to that?”

“I say, make time stop for us a little longer. Take me to another world, Hermes…”

The look he shot you just then, could’ve brought you to your knees on the spot - somehow you just knew he was fixated on the sound of his name as you whispered it, and you wondered how he could make you feel that just from a simple touch.

“C’mon, sweetheart; let’s get out of here,” Hermes suggested, offering you an arm; you linked your arm through his as he tapped the side of his watch, resuming the world around you as if it had never paused at all. 

You gazed up at him in awe as he led you out of the casino, back to the lobby and towards the opening of the blooming flower you’d walked in through. The humid summer air hit you both as you stepped outside together, thereby breaking the spell - but you were still captivated by him, regardless. He briefly let go of you to do away with his warm hoodie, leaving him in just a fitted white t-shirt that had no business looking so goddamn gorgeous on him.

You couldn’t help but smile as he hummed softly in your ear, “There’s a place I know in a nearby park…”

Part 2 via AO3 (blasphemous smut ahead)

[justmystyles]

Now You're In My Life - Part 6

catch up here

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 4k

summary: a chance meeting at a diner turns your world upside-down.

warnings: some curse words, but other than that it's tame.

a/n: i feel like this part was way better in my head, so sorry in advance if you hate it.

*i say it's a plus size reader, while i don't focus a lot on that aspect (because your size should not define you), it will come up, so i just wanted to be upfront about it.

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @brightlightsinlife @cute-as-ducks420 @gem1712 @golden-hoax @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @n0vaj3an @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

After Harry left you sat in your room and cried, you were barely able to get yourself packed and ready to make it to the station in time for your train home. You had forced yourself into the shower, but skipped putting on any makeup, it was just going to run anyway. About twenty minutes into the trip home, you had mercifully fallen asleep and stayed that way until you arrived back in Boston. You had promised Harry that you’d let him know when you got home, so you shot him a quick text, and the reply was almost instant. As if he were staring at his phone, waiting to hear from you. 

Good. Go get some rest my beautiful punk rock princess. Some awful boy kept you up way too late last night. ;)

You were grateful that you had opted for an early train. It gave you a chance to get home and try to resume your normal schedule, and some extra time to purge your emotions so that you could start fresh the next day. Back to work, back to reality. 

The next afternoon, you were in your office, finally caught up on the previous day’s work when one of your coworkers dropped an elaborate floral arrangement at your desk. You didn’t have to open the note to know where it came from. You suppose this is the bookend to your time together. He sent you flowers when you met, and he’s sending you flowers to say goodbye. As curious as you are to read the note, you decide to wait until you get home not wanting to cause a scene in your office. 

When you got home you went straight to the kitchen, placing the flowers down on the counter and pulling out the card. You take a deep breath and remove it from the envelope. 

I tried to think of something funny and charming to say, but truthfully I just missed you and wanted you to know I was thinking of you.

-H

You read the note over and over, until the tears that filled your eyes blurred your vision. He missed you? He was thinking about you? You were more confused than ever. Sure, Harry had told you that you weren’t getting rid of him just because he was on tour. You just assumed he was saying that to get you to stop crying, that the messages and calls would dwindle over time. This seemed like more, that maybe all of the promises of calls and visits were real. 

Maybe he did feel something for you. 

You were interrupted by the ring of your phone, you pulled it from your pocket and saw Harry’s name on the screen. He was FaceTiming you. You took a deep breath and set it to the back camera which would allow you a moment to collect yourself. 

You watched as his beautiful face filled your screen, his smile quickly dropped to a frustrated frown. “Damnit, they still didn’t get it right.” You chuckle tearfully. “I’m just going to have to keep sending you flowers until we find some that are as beautiful as you.” 

“Harry…” you playfully chided. 

“Alright princess, let’s see you. The flowers are lovely, but I called for you.” 

You flip the camera and you notice his face fall slightly. “Darling, have you been crying?” 

“Maybe a little,” you reply coyly. “It was just a long day. It’s amazing how far behind I can fall after just one day off. Plus I’m still pretty tired from the trip.” 

“I’m sorry, do you want me to let you go so you can relax?” 

“No no, I’m glad you called. What are you up to?” You change the subject, not wanting him to press. 

“Well, we just landed in Wisconsin.” He attempts a midwestern accent, causing a bark of laughter to fall out of you unexpectedly. 

“That was terrible. Thank god you can sing, because you’re not an impressions guy.” 

“Heeeeyyyy!” He replied defensively. 

You and Harry talked for well over an hour, there were a few times where you considered asking him for clarification on your relationship, but talking to him felt so good, so right that you didn’t want to risk it. 

That was how most of your conversations with Harry went while he was away. There were many times where you thought it would just be easier to ask, but you kept reminding yourself about your weekend in New York. The last time you were upset, he had been up all night worrying about you. You decided that it wasn’t something you wanted to bother him with while he was on tour. In a few weeks he’d have some time off. You would talk to him then, when it couldn’t impact his work. 

One of the things Harry had brought up to you was how you had apparently become a viral sensation amongst his fanbase for your Harryween costume. Pictures and videos of you were all over social media. And when the photos of you and Harry in Central Park started circulating on the gossip blogs, it wasn’t long before the fans put two and two together. All of the sudden, you were Harry’s new mystery girl. 

Harry apologized profusely for the attention that had suddenly been thrown your way. You didn’t mind though, your friends and family weren’t really the celebrity gossip type. However, a few of your friends did see the pictures, you got some teasing texts, but nothing you hadn’t gotten before. Besides, it wasn’t as though strangers were recognizing you in the street, so life continued to go on as normal. The only change was setting your social media profiles to private, which you were especially grateful for once Harry started following you. 

A few days before the end of Harry’s tour, the two of you were on one of your marathon FaceTime calls, and Harry asked you something you weren’t expecting. 

“You said you still have some vacation days left, right?”

“Yeah, I didn’t really use any, so I was just going to do short weeks for the rest of the year.” You shrug. “It’s use it or lose it.” 

“So why don’t you use some of it next week and hang out with me?” You arched a brow, urging him to continue. “My last show is on Saturday, then I have to be in New York for a few meetings, but after that I thought I could come visit you before I go home for the holidays.”

“You… want to come… here?” 

“Is that alright?” He asked tentatively. “I just… I mean, you came to spend time with me on tour, you got to be part of my life, I wanted to maybe be part of yours for a bit.” 

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt the tears begin to pool in your eyes. He wanted to spend time with you. In your world. You simply nodded your head, unable to speak. 

“Yeah? Wonderful!” He grinned. “I’m going to find the closest hotel so I don’t waste any–”

“You uh…” you interrupted him. “You could stay with me. I mean if you wanted to.” 

His smile widened, and you noticed a twinkle in his eye. “I was hoping you’d say that.” You blushed, making him laugh. “Are you sure you don’t have plans? I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“No, I have a family dinner next Saturday, but other than that I’m free.” 

“Family dinner, huh? What’s the occasion?”

You bit your lip before answering. “It’s um… it’s a birthday dinner.” You say shyly.

Harry’s eyes narrow at you. “Who’s birthday, princess?” Your face had already given him the answer, but he needed to hear you say it. 

Your eyes flit to the floor, you look up at the camera through your lashes. “Uhh… mine?” 

“Y/N Y/L/N!” Harry scolded. “Your birthday is in a week and you didn’t bother to tell me?!” 

“You never asked,” you shrug. 

He shook his head with a chuckle, you had a point. “Well then I am definitely coming, and I am going to spoil you rotten.” 

“Harry you don’t have–”

“The hell I don’t,” he said firmly. “When’s your actual birthday, sweetheart?” 

“Friday,” you tell him. You aren’t a big fan of being the center of attention, so you never really made a big deal about your birthdays. A quiet dinner with your parents and your sister was all you needed. 

“Perfect, I can fly on Thursday night, then I’ll be with you for your whole birthday. And I’d like to join you at your dinner, if you wouldn’t mind having me there.” 

He wanted to meet your parents? Nothing about the last month has made any sense, but you were bound to clear things up when Harry came to visit. “I’d like that,” you smile at him. “Oh, you should probably fly into Manchester instead of Boston though.” You notice Harry’s expression change, and you pause, knowing he wants to say something. “What?” 

“Why would I go all the way to Manchester? I told you I was going to visit you before going home.” 

You sigh and roll your eyes. “New Hampshire, you weirdo.” 

Harry holds up his free hand defensively. “It’s not my fault your precious colonizers couldn’t come up with their own names, so they just reused the ones they were so desperate to get away from.”

“Are you seriously doing this right now? You’re getting snippy about history shit?” He smirks at your annoyed response. “Yeah, keep smiling. When you get here I’m going to throw you in the harbor so you can go find your damn tea.” He throws his head back in laughter at your response, you can’t help but laugh too. Joking with each other like this came so naturally to you. 

“As I was saying,” you pretend to scold him. “It’s the same distance, shorter if you consider traffic, and it’s way less crowded so you could probably get through without being too noticed.” You watch as a dreamy smile spreads across his face. “What now?” You say, expecting another snarky response. 

“Nothing,” he sighed. “You’re such a sweetheart, thinking of me like that.” 

You felt your heartbeat speed up at his sincerity. “It was mostly for me,” you shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I hate Boston traffic.”

In the days leading up to Harry’s visit, you spent every free moment cleaning and arranging and rearranging furniture. To say you were nervous was an understatement. Sure, you were happy to see him again. You couldn’t wait to see him again. But this visit was going to be make or break. You were determined to get to the bottom of your relationship, it was a conversation the two of you needed to have while he was here. But you were going to wait until after your birthday, just because you didn’t want the day to be a big deal didn’t mean you wanted to spend it heartbroken. 

You had told your parents that you were bringing a guest to dinner. You didn’t say much else, but based on their reaction, you were sure they assumed you were bringing home a guy. You usually kept your relationships to yourself, only ever bringing one other guy home, so to them this was a big deal.

It was ten thirty on Thursday night, you were standing by your car in the arrivals lot waiting for Harry. He had been doing some work in the studio that day, so he decided to take a later flight. As your eyes stayed trained on the door, you pulled your coat tighter around you, trying to stay warm. Before long, you saw Harry emerge from the airport, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. He was here, in front of you, not just on a screen. 

You watched his eyes dart around the parking area, his face deep in concentration as he looked for you, rolling his suitcase behind him, a duffle bag hanging off his shoulder. You could tell the moment he found you, because the crease in his brow disappeared, his smile widened and his pace began to pick up. When he finally reached you, he dropped his bags and wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground and crashing his lips against yours.   

He placed you back down, pulling you into another kiss before holding you close and burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, I missed you so much princess.” His voice was muffled against your skin as he continued to place kisses along your neck. 

You let out a content sigh as your fingers played with the curls at the nape of his neck. “I missed you too.” 

After standing in each other’s arms for a few moments, relishing in the feeling of having each other so close again, Harry finally pulled away and put his bags in the back of your car. He moved to the passenger's side and opened the door. You stood there, watching him stand in front of the door, making no moves to actually enter the car. 

“You getting in?” You asked curiously. 

“I will, I was just opening your door for you.” He replied. 

“We’re still in America, babe. Driver sits over there.” You use your thumb to point to the other side of the car.

His dimples appeared as he shook his head. “I’m driving.” 

“Excuse me?”

“I want to play a game on the way home, you won’t be able to play and keep your eyes on the road, so I’m going to drive.” 

You didn’t miss the fact that he said ‘home’, he didn’t refer to it as your house, he called it home. But you were also suspicious of this game. “I’m not giving you road head.” Your gaze narrowed. 

You noticed his eyes darken briefly before he corrected his expression and laughed. “No no, nothing like that. Completely innocent, I promise.” 

You eye him suspiciously as you approach the car. As you slide into the passenger's seat, you hand him the keys. “Just remember, we drive on the right here.” 

He rolls his eyes, closing your door and moving to the driver’s side. Once he was settled in, he started the car, and began to explain the game. 

“So, even after all of this time talking and sharing intimate details of our lives, you’ve still been very evasive about all that guilty pleasure music you’re hiding.” He smirks when you blush and sink a little further into your seat. “And I’ve also noticed you have an almost compulsive need to explain yourself and your opinions on things. Which you never have to do with me, by the way.” He paused, giving you a moment to process and truly understand his statement. “I figured we could use those two things to play a game, and get you to let me in just the tiniest bit more.” 

You furrow your brow. “I don’t get it?”

“It’s quite simple my dear, I will give you an emotion, or a scenario of some sort, and you play the song that goes with it. This way, you’re explaining why you like the song, instead of just being embarrassed that you do.” 

You smile to yourself, he was so desperate to get to know you that he made up a whole game just to help you open up. God, you were glad he was here. “Okay, I can do that.” 

“Yeah?” You nod in agreement. “Excellent! But you have to be completely honest, the first song that comes to mind no matter how embarrassing you think it might be.” 

“Deal.” 

He smiles widely and pulls you in to seal the deal with a kiss. “Alright then, buckle up buttercup. We’re off.” 

As Harry rattled off different topics, you could tell that he had prepared thoroughly for this. Each would have a series of follow up questions that he would ask as the song played, and occasionally he would sing a bit of it for her, his hand firmly planted on her thigh for the entirety of the ride. 

Harry would occasionally glance over to you as you were listening to a song. Of course he was admiring your beauty, but more than that, he noticed you had a musicality about you that he hadn’t seen much of outside of work. You would move your hands, almost as if you were conducting the music, honing in on obscure background melodies, and play them out with your fingers. 

You had been at a redlight, but when it turned green, Harry didn’t move. You looked over to see him watching you completely mesmerized. When he realized he had been caught, he blushed before turning his attention back to the road. “What?” You ask with a chuckle. 

“Aside from the fact that you are stunning and I never want to stop looking at you?” He smirked and shot a quick glance your way just in time to catch your blush. “Aside from that, I just noticed how you listen to music. It’s almost analytical, like you’re picking out each part, like even the smaller parts that people barely notice.”

“Yeah, I’ve kind of always been like that,” you shrug. “Obviously in college it kind of got worse, but–”

“Obviously in college?” Harry questioned.

You slap your hand over your mouth, you were so comfortable with Harry that things were just rolling off your tongue without realizing it. “Yeah… I um, my major was audio production. So I did a lot of recording and mixing and stuff.” 

You felt Harry’s grip tighten on your thigh. “Princess, I’ve known you for over a month, how have you not told me this?”  

“It’s not a big deal, it’s not like I’m using it or anything. I didn’t want you to think I was hanging out with you with ulterior motives.” 

Harry pulled the car into a nearby parking lot so that he could focus all of his attention on you. “Do you really believe that I would think that you were spending all this time with me, that all of this was just because you were trying to make a connection in the music industry?”

You shrug, looking down at the floor. You weren’t sure if you were more embarrassed about keeping it from him, or for your reason for keeping it from him. 

He took your chin in his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him. “Hey, listen to me,” his tone was commanding yet tender, and he had a look of adoration in his eyes. “I’ve told you before, I want to know everything about you. Whether you believe it or not, I know your heart, and I know that you would never ask anything like that of me. Okay?” You nod your head in affirmation. “I want to hear you say it, princess.” 

“Okay,”  you whisper. He smiles, pulling your lips to his. 

He turns back to the wheel and continues the journey to your house. 

“So this is my princess’s palace?” Harry says as he pulls into the driveway. When he sees you reach for the door handle, he places a hand on your shoulder. “Uh-uh, don’t you dare open that door,” he chided. 

“Awfully aggressive for a gentleman.” You joked. 

He leaned in, his voice low and gravely in your ear. “You haven’t seen anything yet, princess.” A chill shot down your spine at his words. 

After he opened your door and collected his bags, the two of you went into the house and you gave him a quick tour of your house. It was a small three bedroom cape, with the master bedroom on the first floor. Since you lived on your own, you had turned the two upstairs rooms into a makeshift gym, and a combination home office/nail salon. 

By the time you had gotten home and given Harry the full tour, it was nearly midnight and you were both pretty tired. You took your pajamas into the bathroom so you could change and do your night routine, leaving Harry to change in the bedroom. 

When you returned to your room, you tapped on the door to make sure Harry was decent. He called for you to enter, when you did, you saw Harry sitting up in your bed. His eyes went wide as they traveled up and down your body, you were wearing an oversized t-shirt that was so long it completely covered the shorts you have on.

Harry gulped audibly before opening his mouth. “Princess, you… uh, you forgot the bottoms.” 

You were typically pretty self conscious about your body, but the way Harry was looking at you, practically devouring you with his eyes, it gave you a boost of confidence like you’d never had before. 

“Nope, I’ve got my shorts.” You lifted the shirt to your waist. 

Harry tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, folding down the sheets on your side of the bed, and patting the mattress. As you moved closer to the bed, you swayed your hips a little more than you usually would, you watched as Harry kept his eyes locked on you. 

As soon as you pulled the covers over yourself, Harry’s arms were around you, pulling you towards him. His lips traveled from your neck, up and across your jaw. Just before he could pull you in for a kiss, your phone rang. 

“Ugh… sorry,” you groaned as you reached for your phone. “It’s my sister.” 

As you swiped your finger across the screen, Harry noticed the time and leaned in close. “Happy birthday, princess.” He whispered before taking your earlobe between his teeth and tugging gently, causing you to giggle softly. 

“Hello?” Your sister’s voice rang out from the other end of the phone. 

You and Harry looked at eachother, trying not to laugh. You held your index finger up to his mouth to silence him. Instead of taking you seriously, he runs his tongue along your finger before pulling it into his mouth. You pull it out quickly and shoot him a warning glance. 

“Hi, sorry. I’m here. Hi.” You finally respond to your sister as you try to break out of Harry’s grasp. 

“I wanted to be the first one to say happy birthday, but apparently I didn’t make it in time.” 

“Better luck next year,” Harry joked. You slapped him playfully on the chest. 

“Who are you with?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you assure her. 

“Oh wait, is this the guy mom and dad keep talking about? The one you’re bringing to dinner.” 

Your cheeks turn bright red at your sister’s words. Harry chuckles and pinches your cheeks. 

“Okay, so thanks for calling. I’ll see you Saturday.” You speak into the phone. 

“See you Saturday,” she says. “Sorry about the cock block.” 

Harry bursts out laughing, while you hang up the phone and drop it back down on the nightstand. You slide deeper into the bed, pulling the blankets over your head. 

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Harry chuckles as he follows you under the blankets. “Your sister seems nice.” He says as he starts kissing your neck, adding some gentle bites as he goes. 

“Yeah, she’s a real…” you interrupt yourself with a yawn. “Sorry.” 

Harry pulls back, leaning on his arm so he’s facing you. “Tired?” 

“A little, I’m fine though.” You assure him as you lift your hand, placing it on his cheek. 

He tilts his head, kissing your palm, “It’s alright, get some sleep. I’m not going anywhere, we can continue this later.” He leaned down until his lips were a breath away from yours. “Happy birthday, beautiful.” He kissed you softly before laying back on the bed. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you close.

“This is nice,” you sigh against his chest.

His arms tighten around you, and he places a kiss on the top of your head. “It’s really nice.” 

Before you know it, you drift off into one of the most comfortable nights of sleep you’ve ever had. 

[klarolineashur1919]

La Tua Cantante Series

Airpods Save Lives

Demetri Pov

"The meat smells divine today" Felix practically hums out. Whenever the tours came it gave us some kind of excitement. Not that any of us would admit it, we were all so bored. I in a way admired Felix's ability to make excitement from anything even though it could be immature at times. Alec and Jane kept themselves preoccupied in ways that I could tolerate but took years to stomach. I on the otherhand kept myself satisfied with the best thing the world has to offer..women. But even that lately has not had the same effect it usually has for me.

"Hmm" I merely acknowledged until I stopped in my tracks when I smelled the group that was coming. It did smell divine but not how the tours usually smell.

This was different.

It was also extremely overpowering. I wanted to search for and ravish whoever the smell belonged to. Fresh oranges, sweet wine, lavender and ink.

"You can tell someone from this group is rather tasty can't you" Could Felix smell it? Did he feel as I did at this moment? The craving of something unknown. But we were about to find out as the group entered the hall. Me and Felix moved to the side by the assistants desk. The group strolled in with Heidi at the front as usual.

"Demetri" She said sultry trying to get my attention as I didn't even spare her glance worth while. I scanned the group it felt like it went on forever of unwanted faces until my eyes found her.

It was her scent. She wore a orange scented perfume, she just had a glass of wine for lunch, her floral flowy dress was lavender scented from cleaning and she had small smudges of ink on her almost spotless delicate hands.

It all made her so intoxicating.

She was stunning. With her long, slightly wavy blonde hair, blue eyes, and a curvy hourglass figure that was complemented by her slender frame.

"Now she's a tasty little thing" Felix said a little too loud that she had to have heard it but her expression did not change from the somewhat bored one she had. I realized she wasn't in awe nor had the enthusiastic interest that everyone else in the tour group had by Heidi's power of persuasion. Then I watched as her eyes darted to something in the side hallway making her leave the group.

"Well thats rare" Felix somewhat interested in the human making a move in her direction before my arm shot up.

"I got it, I'll meet you in the throne room" Without looking at him I make my way towards her.

I watch her as she is analyzing or I should say scrutinizing the Portrait of a Young Man painting. It wasn't my favorite painting of Raphael's but I didn't think it deserved the amount of scrutiny she was giving it. Her nose scrunched, the lines on her forehead and her eyes almost closed by how hard she was trying to see the even smallest details of the painting.

"Give peace a chance..Let the fear you have fall away" I jumped slightly at the sudden angelic melodic voice that came from her as she stepped back trying to look at it from a different angle. Her hands rested at her bag that laid on her hip preparing to open it. I faked a cough to make my presence known but she did not turn to me as she took her phone out from her purse. I moved towards her quickly taking her phone from her before she was able to take a picture.

"Umm excuse me" She said in a sweet surprised voice as she turned to me. If I had a breath it would have stopped as I looked into her eyes.

They were so blue they reminded me of the Aegean Sea.

They reminded me of a home I once knew and I thought long forgotten.

"What's wrong with your eyes?" She said gently grabbing her phone from my hand. My eyes looked like hers once I think. Now they're not as pretty.

"It's a medical condition...you shouldn't have left the group" She placed her hair behind her ear showing a white plug in it. She took it out.

"Is this real?" She pointed to the painting. She hasn't broken eye contact from me nor my eyes from her. This was quite an anomaly for me.

"Yes what makes you question the authenticity?"I say amused by this creature. I usually take human girls in the privacy of dark corners and be done with it. But her...I wanted to make this last.

"Well for one it's been lost for almost a hundred years, this is a Raphael painting correct?" She says trying to be polite but about to burst from this discovery she found.

"Correct, artist are you?" I said conversational but she precedes to put the plug back in her ear. She turns from me much to my displeasure as I watched her hips start to sway away from me.

"Architect major with an art history minor" She said walking in the opposite direction of where she should be going but stopping in her tracks almost immediately at the next painting. She does the same act as the last much to my amusement. She starts huffing in and out analyzing every detail of the Nativity with St. Francis and St. Lawrence. I make my way over to her. My shoulder an inch from hers as I stood facing the painting as she did. She gives me a side eye understanding I wasn't going to leave her. She goes to her ear pressing on the plugs.

"Is this a replica?" She says now finally suspicious of her surroundings if she wasnt before.

"They're all real...love" I stare down at her as she comes closer to me. Every fiber of my being was restraining myself from ending this. I wanted to relish this, savoring it like one does a fine wine.

"Are you in the mafia?" She whispers and I laugh heartily at the question.

"Now what would give you that idea?" I say coyly as I lean closer to her, my eyes landing on her slender neck. Her pretty little neck.

"Because this painting was supposedly stolen by the mafia" She said matter a factly moving from me realizing how close I was to her. I clenched my jaw at the distance between us. I wanted us closer. I had the feeling even if I skin to skin with her wouldn't be close enough for me. But she seemed absolutely uninterested in me, enamored with what was around her.

"Violet, blue, green, red to keep me at arm's length don't work..You try to push me out..But I just find my way back in...Violet, blue, green, red to keep me out...I win" She gives a mumbled hum of the words not fully singing them out knowing that I'm there close behind. She accepts that fact along with that all the paintings she sees are real. She doesn't analyze them viciously like she did before. Now just taking them in like they should be. But I am analyzing every detail of her. The flutter of her eyelashes, the curve of her hip and the way her hair bounces as she walks. She turns her head to me behind her, giving me an excellence view of her perfectly structured jawline.

"Are you art thieves?" She says innocently genuinely curious. I chuckle at her guess. I look at her ear looking at the plug realizing sound was coming from them.

"What are those things?" She looked at me confused. I lift my hand slowly towards her tapping the back of my finger lightly against one of the plugs.

"Oh..they're airpods" She looked at me like it was the most obvious thing in the world and I had absolutely no idea "they're like earplugs or headphones." I mouthed a little "oh" as she let out a little giggle at my ignorance.

"I'll have to warn Heidi about those" I say more to myself as me and her walked side by side down the hall, further and further away from the throne room. We're getting close to a intersection, one hall leads to a cellar and the other leads to an exit. Decisions...Decisions.

"Was Heidi the lady in charge of the tour?" I simply nod while I think of the fact this girls life is in my hands. Do I truly want to snuff out the sun? I'm quite thoughtful about the decision as I firmly placed my hands behind my back.

"She's kinda an airhead isn't she?" I whip my head towards her uncontrollably crackling at her statement.

"Heidi?" I say absolutely bewildered by the statement. I don't think Heidi has ever been described as an airhead?

"Well I know that is kinda mean. I really am not into girl shaming but..she has all this to show"She twirled around then kept walking "and she said a lot of words with really nothing of substance behind them. I did listen a little to her in and out...I don't know I preferred music over her" My hands tighten behind my back as I stare at her. Her hair when she spun I got a delightful whiff of her shampoo.Citrus. Fresh oranges. Her blood would taste so sweet.

"Like this castle has to be from the 12th century-" She looked at me curiously as I stared at her clavicle. That would be a wonderful place to take a first bite.

"11th" I muttered out. We made it to the intersection, cellar for a drink or exit for her life.

"Oh" She tilted her head up to the ceiling an spun slowly on her heel around "I can picture that..there is some roman designs" She smiled to herself. Her eyes sparkled. It's funny I lived in this castle going on a thousand years and always found it a dull place mostly except when we used to have parties. But in one day she saw the beauty in it.

"Are you a lover of Artemisia Gentileschi?" I asked as she was about to turn down the hallway to the cellar, stopped to look at me.

"Yes...why?" She smirked cutely. I smile at her for giving me that answer. I take her hand in mine and lead her through the hallway with the exit.

"Hey how do I know you're not taking me in some dark room to have your way with me" She said half jokingly. I just smirk to myself. She would be so delicious but for some reason it seems like it would be a waste. It wouldn't even be a minute before her life would be gone and she would be gone. Her beauty, her smile, her voice..everything about her I could just take in an instant if I chose to.

"Your hand is so cold" She did a little tug on it. I turn to her and say nothing. I stare in her eyes for a moment and she looks at me amused.

"So if I'm ever found alive and they ask me the name of the assailant, what should I tell them?" I winced as she dropped her hand from mine before the question. I wanted her to touch me.

"Demetri"I slowly drawl out "And when I see your face on the news what name will I see?"

"Nina" It almost came out as a whisper but I heard it. As I also could hear the screams start but she didn't seem to hear them.

"Here we are" I stop in front of our designated painting and she started to laugh at it. The Madonna and the child was one of our many Artemisia Gentileschi paintings but Jane had all of her famous ones on the other side of the castle that was where I didnt want her to be.

"Really out of her paintings this is the one you have?" She giggles as I just look down at my shoes like a boy. She does stop giggling to appreciate the painting eventually.

"She looks so tired" She says more to herself than to me. Then I really look at the painting myself to see what she means. I see it too in the mother's eyes. I never noticed that before probably never cared. I watch her as she looks over the painting really taking in ever detail of it.

"You should paint me it would last longer" I look down again with a smirk.

"Can I?" I say more flirting than serious. She turns to me blushing and my smirk deepens.

"What am I going to be your Rose to you Jack?" She leans closer to me making start to tense even though I was taken back by the reference. I need to brush up on current entertainment.

"Ahh-" I freeze as I can sense someone coming.

I look behind me seeing the reason why we're here..the exit.

I take her hand and hurry her to the door. We go down stairs and stairs. I have to be mindful of my speed seeing I had to keep a human one. Something came over me that I had to get her out that was my only thought at this moment.

"Where are we going?" But her question is answered when I open a door to the outside practically throwing her out. Then the sun light making me step back into the darkness.

"Wait" She places her hand on the door before I close it and I didn't want to hurt her.

"Will I see you again?" She almost whines out.

"Yes but don't come back here..meet me at the front of the clock tower at night fall...goodbye" I said it quickly as I slowly closing the door.

"Goodbye" I heard quietly right before the door closed. I regretted how it ended but there was reasoning behind the abrupt departing.

"Well this is quite unusual behavior...for you" Felix leaned against the wall at the top of the stairs.

"The girl didn't hear or see anything, no laws were broken" I say stiffly making my way past him.

"That may be but the why is what I'm curious about" he hanged his head over my shoulder mischievously. He wasn't going to let this go.

"It just felt like a waste" I shrug looking almost dazed not wanting to think what I had just done and the why.

"A waste...yes a waste of food. Bloody Demetri if you didn't want her you could've given her to me. But Im surprised why didnt you want her?"He was going to nag and nag until he got an answer to his liking.

"I wanted her...but it just felt as it would have been to quick" This was making me nervous. I haven't felt nervous since the incident with the Cullens. But this was a different kind of nervous, I was worried for her.

"Fine then I'll meet her later at the clock tower-" If on instinct I slammed Felix against the wall my hand around his throat.

"She's mine...I'll take care of it" I shove him back stalking away.

She was mine.

I hated to admit it but I knew it to be true.

She is my cantante.

[mousydentist]

KPTS fics under 10k that changed my brain chemistry

PART 1: KimChay

Inspired by @the-cookie-of-doom making a fic rec list, cause i was like hey! i like fics too! so here's a bunch of <10k word fics that altered the course of my life. i'm gonna do a few parts, so this first one is just kimchay. i tried to tag all the authors on tumblr but there was a couple i was unsure of so please lmk if they have an account for me to tag! (or if i fucked up any of the links cause you know tumblr was fighting me) <3 without further ado, and in no particular order:

Your last lie by saturnscoded @saturnscode (8182 words)

Not Rated. Creator chose not to use archive warnings. Summary:

In which Porchay's boyfriend cheats on him with Kimhan and he decides to take revenge. Or Things get out of control and Chay doesn't know how to stop.

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu- this fic oh my god i love this fic. GO READ THIS FIC RIGHT NOW. yknow when people are like "would you rather have a fic with amazing plot or amazing writing" GUESS WHAT BESTIE THIS ONES BOTH. GO READ IT.

Ringing Endorsements by bisexualbard @bisexualbard-writes (2556 words)

Rated G. No Archive Warnings. Summary:

Kim is not impulsive. Kim is a planner, a plotter, a researcher, and generally considers all angles of an action before he makes a move. Chay has always been the exception to his rules though, which is why he’s not even surprised at himself when he walks out of the jewelry shop with an engagement ring barely a month after they’ve reconciled. The only problem is, he doesn't stop at just one.

i have shed so many tears to this fic. it hits the sappy romantic in me right in the fkn feels GOD it just hurts so good ITS NOT EVEN SAD it's just so good it makes me cry 😭😭😭

podfic available by AirgiPodSLV (AirgiodSLV) @airgiodslv!!! welcome to tumblr fdjsjd

heaven is a place (here, on your floor) by booksnchocolate @booksnchocolate (7020 words)

Rated E. No Archive Warnings. Summary:

They're going to have sex. Eventually. They're going to take their clothes off and Chay is going to explore all of Kim's glorious, glorious body with his hands and mouth and – whew, he's going to need a cold shower. There's just one problem. It’s not a big deal, at first.

oh boy. what do i even say about this fic. i think about this fic a lot. like a LOT. it's so incredibly moving and emotional and ugh. just. perfect. no notes. i've cried at this and if i read it again right now i would cry again

Kim's Magic Pussy by imdeadlily @imdeadlily (8096 words)

Rated E. No Archive Warnings. Summary:

Kim wakes up and finds his dick is gone. MIA. Vanished. Displaced. Chay has no issues with this.

i'm a die-hard imdeadlily fan. i highly highly recommend everything they've written and this fic, THIS FIC. ITS SOOOO. just. go read it. you have to experience it yourself.

rainbow hanging over your head by IsleofSolitude @emberfaye (4174 words)

Rated T. No Archive Warnings. Summary:

Chay is crushing hard on Kim. That's the only reason it takes him awhile to realize kim's brothers are being weird.

this fic is the warm and fuzzy feeling you get when it's winter and you take a big blanket that like 10 times your size and you cuddle with your dog. that's this fic. i love this fic more than at least 90% of all things.

Pillow Talk by Atlas (xx_atlas_xx) @xxatlasxx (1427 words)

Rated E. No Archive Warnings. Summary:

Kim finds some time to himself while on tour as Wik, but gets interrupted by a phone call.

FOLLOWING THE TRANS KIM THEME WITH THIS MASTERPIECE. ive screamed all up in atlas' dms ab this fic and there is a REASON it was my most re-read fic of last year. sweet little trans!kim smut that i adore

drape myself with floral light by fern_tdvuh @fern-tdvuh (2080 words)

Rated T. No Archive Warnings. Summary:

"Kim feels like a sunflower – he can't resist basking in Chay's light." How Kim and Chay recognize their love for each other via tattoos, and then share it with the world.

this fiiiIIIIIIIIIIIC GODDDDDDDD. i swoon. i SWOOOOOON over this fic. i simply do not even have the words. this fic hurts my bones, hurts down to my soul. so fucking good. 10/10

Do You Believe in Magic? by disast3rtransp0rt @disast3rtransp0rt (3407 words)

Rated T. No Archive Warnings. Summary:

Deadpool continues to breeze past the entire situation, as he usually does when he’s in ‘trouble’. In fact, ‘Pool starts flirting even earlier into their banter than usual. “Did you hear the part where we’re soulmates, Spidey?” “I actively ignored that bit, actually,” Chay outright lies. Like a lying liar whose spandex is on fire. One hand is still on his hip, and he uses the other to gesture between the two of them. “What if we’re platonic soulmates?” “That’s not how the spell works,” Sabrina the Pain in Chay’s Ass speaks up. “We were hoping to summon Death, but–”

THIS FIC EEEEEEEE oh my god this was just so cute my heart simply could not take it. i read this after like, just, such an awful terrible day and it made me smile and god i love it. very special place in my heart for this fic.

i see rain but maybe they're all tears for you by OdeToFics @thestrangeillusion (5459 words)

Rated E. Creator chose not to use archive warnings. Summary:

Chay slumps back down onto the couch, picking up his controller where he'd abandoned it when there was a knock at his door. "Take your clothes off and then come here," he commands with a steady voice without even looking in Kim's direction. When his words are only greeted with silence from where Kim is still standing next to the door he'd just locked, Chay turns around to look at him and raises a challenging eyebrow at him. "W-what?" Kim stutters out and Chay feels a rush of satisfaction in making the always cool and collected Kim Theerapanyakun finally lose his resolve for once. "You said 'anything', did you not?" Chay asks coldly. ~~ Or: Chay wants Kim to be as vulnerable with him as he had always made himself for Kim. He wants to have some control over Kim. He realises too late that he's in way over his head.

OOF this fic hurts so good. post canon kim having emotions, goodness gracious it HITS DIFFERENT. SAD ANGST PORN MY BELOVED. SMANGST IF YOU WILL

The Art of Persuasion by Zoiseaunoir (9226 words)

Rated E. No Archive Warnings. Summary:

Porchay really wants to top. Kim needs a little persuasion. ... or does he?

!!!!!! some top tier kimchay communication porn. i read this fic like seven times in the week i first discovered it AND YOU SHOULD TOO

Take Your Time (I Promise Not to Run) by WildelyDawn @wildelydawn (3637 words)

Rated E. Rape/Non-con. Summary:

“Somnophilia,” Kim reads out loud. “A sexual interest in engaging in sexual activity with a sleeping person.” Chay hadn’t said no to any of his desires so far. But this is different. This is taking without asking. It’s wrong. (Or: Kim discovers somnophilia and struggles to keep his desires to himself. Chay's there to guide him through it.)

fOOkin hell this fic, this whole series actually, actually actually everything by dawn but i digress. just like, jaw-dropping plot, beautifully written, and smutty on top of it?? just 10/10 fic overall, absolutely outstanding

podfic available by Princess_Moonlight!!!

paying the price by IsleofSolitude @emberfaye (4133 words, ongoing)

Rated M. Creator chose not to use archive warnings. Summary:

Secure with the knowledge that Kim won’t leave him again, Chay unblocked Kim and pressed the call button. (Alternatively, Chay fucks around and finds out. All magic comes with a price.)

:*) bro. this fic took my emotions and put them in a blender. the first chapter was jaw dropping and had me hooked, and the second chapter picked my jaw off the ground and stapled it back on with no novocain. my heart huuuuurts thinking about this fic /pos

I'd Rather Feel Pain Than Nothing At All by Sweet_William @sweet-william-writes (3108 words)

Rated E. Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-con. Summary:

Chay starts having graphic dreams where Kim attacks him. When he is faced with a real-life volatile Kim killing men in Hum Bar to protect him, he realises they were never nightmares. They were wet dreams. And now he's going to make those dreams a reality, whether Kim wants it or not.

yOWza bonowza this fic is a doozy /pos. author's note says "Because we need more awful kimchay fics <3" and sir you delivered!!!!!! spectacular and gasp-worthy, i couldn't stop thinking about it for like four days after reading it

Technicality by TheCookieOfDoom @the-cookie-of-doom (9136 words, ongoing)

Rated E. No Archive Warnings. Summary:

Kim is an OnlyFans model. Despite taking (literal) monster dildos up his ass on the regular, he is still, technically, a virgin.

now this one is just technically (ha) less than 10k, its 9k and ongoing but goddamnit im counting it because loooOORDD. this has almost all of my favorite tropes wrapped up in 9k of excellent writing and GOD it makes me feral like actually fr feral

K's Puppy Boy by Maenecoon @maenecoon (9944 words, ongoing)

Rated E. No Archive Warnings. Summary:

To be in K’s position, to garner the attention of people who'd pay to see him do more and go further into the depths of depravity. To feel wanted and needed and pleasured all while earning a bit of pocket money. It sounds like a dream. And so Chay's here now, attempting a stream of his own. ー Or, Chay stumbles upon the prettiest camboy. Things go downhill from there.

OK THIS ONES ALSO JUST BARELY 10K BUT LISTEN. holy F LISTEN TO ME. go read this right now. this shit has me blushing and kicking my feet and chewing my arm off and SCREAMING OUT LOUD IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT god GOD ITS SO. ok yeah go read it.

[izvmimi]

cw: fluff. you and todo are besties, somehow. you're thinking about someone else.

“If I’m gonna be seen out in public with you, I’m gonna need you to act sane, Aoi,” you offer, huffing. He barely looks up, still taken by the convention programme in his hands and you sigh, not bothering to repeat yourself as you pull your knees to your chest. It’s cold, and Todo is warm, so you rest on his shoulder and he’s kind enough not to shrug you off (or perhaps too distracted by the chance to see his ultimate waifu to). 

In another world, you’d be jealous, but you’ve long gotten over the potential of romance, settling comfortably into a platonic sort of siblinghood over the past year. God let you dodge that particular bullet and you’re thankful for it, although you’re staring down the barrel of Cupid’s shotgun. You shake your head away from thoughts of the pink-haired ray of sunshine, and look at your own schedule, wondering how Todo convinced you to come to camp out here this early in the first place.

You yawn loudly, raising your head up to see the sunrise along the horizon, past other huddled bodies dotting the streetside. Rather than be upset at Aoi for having such delusional aspirations, you should be glad that despite all that you’ve all been through in the world of curses and worse, he can still invest in something as ridiculous as fanatical love. Even normal, attainable love terrifies you to the very core, chilling you more than the winter frost trying to seep into your bones.

“If you’re going to ignore me, I’m not doing this again,” you say out loud. Todo looks at you finally, but instead of meeting your annoyance similarly, he grins widely. 

“Ha, actually, can’t wait till you come out with me for the international tour!”

You glare at him, then check your watch.

“Wasn’t this shit supposed to open hours ago?” You ask.

Todo shrugs, eerily calm. “I’ll wait hours for her.” Your nose scrunches in disgust.

“Okay, you might, but what about me?!”

Todo gives you a look, shrugging his broad shoulders again, something that irritates you. “Love is patient, you know?”

“Okay, that’s enough.” 

You get to your feet and he considers reaching for you, then remembers you don’t have the heart to ditch your friend anyway. Crossing his legs and resting his face on his planted elbow, he waits and watches you. As expected, you stand and make to leave, but turn on your heels and sigh before sitting back down. For the next few minutes, you don’t say anything additional until finally Todo glances at you. 

“Text Yuji back.”

You blink.

“What do you mean, ‘text Yuji back’?” 

Todo has intermittently pulled out a boar bristle brush and smooths down his edges, preening in the mirror, and you can’t believe how many hair products are in the small pouch he brought with him. You wait for him to respond, blood pressure rising as he takes his time, then places his brush down on the camping blanket.

“He’s worried about you.”

You grimace.

“Tell him to mind his business.”

Todo looks at you sideways. “You are his business the same way Takada is my business.”

You would argue with him that Takada, again, is not going to fuck him, but it would involve admitting that the unaddressed part of that statement is true.

“I respect you-“

“Debatable,” you interrupt, but Todo continues as if you haven't said a word.

“But that’s my brother, you know?” 

By now, Todo is spritzing perfume on himself, enough to make you choke. You’d strangle him if his neck weren’t so thick.

“Tell your brother I don’t like him,” you murmur. 

Todo pats his face with overpriced lotion. “I’m not lying to him.”

“Aoi, I swear to God.”

He rummages through the bag again, and spritzes you this time, a floral scent that has you swatting the air.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“I can’t have you cramping my style. Takada needs to know that my friends smell good too.”

You can’t believe that you woke up early to do this, but bite your lip and decide not to rage further. Before you can ponder what exactly to do about the friend of a friend who very clearly is in love with you, the gates open and Todo has packed up in a millisecond, warning you not to slow him down. 

He’s fanatical in love, and while you’ve once wished someone would adore you to this extent, it’s been more than you can handle to have even a fraction of this type of adoration pointed towards you.

[rosiesmuts]

Not Quite Freest Use

Somi

Words: 3,500

A/N: While I still work on ‘Freest Use,’ these IG pics sent me into overdrive

Life works in mysterious ways. While posing as one of Rosé's employees, your reputation as being a diligent worker spread throughout YG and are considered a valued asset. BLACKPINK is overseas for their world tour, and because of that, the company was short staffed for events. You never had any intent on being an employee of YG, but an all expense paid trip to Japan as well as being rewarded generously was too good to refuse.

Somi was chosen as the host for MAMA in Japan and needed a bilingual bodyguard to help keep her safe. Everything is kept professional, Somi expertly entertaining the crowd, her God given natural charisma made her born to be an idol.

The event is over and despite hosting for three hours, her energy levels are as high as ever. There is an innate charm she holds, being able to make you feel like her lifelong friend despite meeting her yesterday. 

One check around her dressing room to ensure there are no hidden cameras or people hiding is all that's left to do before giving her some privacy.

While doing your sweep, all the self control in the world to keep this professional isn't enough to keep your eyes to yourself. The absolute marvel of how the dress hugged every one of her curves is even more tempting up close. Though mostly covered up, her long legs and wide hips could never be hidden. The upper half of her dress is the true highlight; from behind, her sexy back open to the world, and especially from the front, her otherworldly cleavage just a light yank from being set free.

After the room has been cleared, you step toward the door and just as you're about to exit.

"Not so fast." She interrupts you just as you turn the doorknob. 

A million thoughts run through your mind, perhaps this would turn out in the same way as it did with BLACKPINK. Her loud laugh breaks the tension, as if she could sense the lewd thoughts going on in your head. Her phone is now in your hand and she is striking poses with the different backgrounds.

“I need to take some SNS before I change.” Your practice in taking photos for Rosé and Jennie pays off, taking snap after snap with each photo ending up better than the last. Those same lewd thoughts re enter your mind when she tells you get a close up shot of her cleavage–your face becomes flushed and light beads of sweat gather around your forehead.

“What’s wrong? You’ve never seen tits before?” Somi laughs while gently caressing your face. “I know you’ve been sneaking glances at me, and don’t think you were hired for this event by mistake. Lisa told me all about you and recommended your…services”

You're pushed down onto the couch and Somi is standing over you, all the power is now in her hands. A simple zipper to the side of her dress is all it takes for the silken material to fall to the ground–she’s left standing there in a strapless bra that barely contains her and lace panties. 

“Sit on your hands. No touching until I say so.” She retrieves her phone from your hands then starts to play some music. “No more photos of what we're about to do.” 

Your body tenses up a bit, the floral undertones of her perfume are smelt immediately the moment she straddles your lap. You always thought Somi was beautiful, but being up close and center only magnifies how striking her features are. 

“Just sit back and relax.” Words that are easier said than done. Her hips gyrate against your crotch in rhythm to the music and your face is so close to the wondrous cleavage that has captivated you all night that you can nearly taste it. You would love nothing more than to feel up every inch of her sinful body, but her instructions to sit on your hands has you paralyzed.  

She leans forward, grabbing the back of the couch with her hands, and plants her cleavage deep into your face, slowly moving them up and down, the friction causes her bra to get lower and lower, until your face is finally flesh on flesh with her two massive mounds. 

Leaning back to give you some time to catch your breath also gives you the opportunity to bask in the visual pleasure of her bare chest for the first time. “Well what do you think?” she asks in a sultry tone.

It would be hard to even imagine more perfectly shaped breasts. Each one round and full, yet not showing even the slightest hint of sag, perfectly as perky as her personality. The nipples and areola are large, but almost invisible–blended in with the rest of her skin and surrounded by a network of blue veins just visible beneath her pale skin.

“They’re amazing, I know.” Somi has now adorned an ever bratty smile. She knows how hot she is, using both hands to cup her own breasts, dropping them to show off how jiggly they are. The growing bulge happening between your legs doesn’t go unnoticed, Somi shifting her hips until your bulge is sandwiched in between her two pillowy thighs.

She doubles down, leaning forward once again, engulfing your entire face in her bountiful bosom. After what feels like an eternity, Somi finally gives you those magic words. “Taste them.” Like a rabid animal finally off their leash, slobbering up one of her giant breasts, trying to fit as much as you could into your mouth. A sweet moan leaves Somi’s lips, her hands holding the back of your head, keeping your lips sealed around her tit. Rules be damned at this point, you free your hands and use them to fondle the entirety of her sinful body until your left hand massages the unattended breast. 

Her big tits are definitely the centerpiece that draws in all attention, but you still had your wits about you to make sure that foreplay was not forgotten. Light nibbling against her creamy neck and protruding collarbones do just as well to elicit sweet moans from Somi. Your hands move down, grabbing two handfuls of hot idol ass, lifting her up ever so slightly to put her tits directly in the path of your awaiting lips. 

This time, with purpose, you seize one of her ghost nipples in between your lips, using your tongue to feel every bump and texture of her delicious nub. Somi gasps and leaves soundless moans, running her hands through your hair as you continue to devour the bountiful feast left in front of you. Your hands move on from her ass, making its first stop at her smooth silky thighs, then traveling up across her tight abs, before reaching their final resting place–making sure to cup and grope each of her giant tits while your mouth alternates between the two. After some time, each of her wondrous mounds are now covered in your saliva, and if left to your own devices, you could’ve spent the rest of the night just nestled into her chest. 

The growing bulge in your pants, and the growing wet spot appearing on her lace panties is signs that things need to move onto the next step. Somi pushes her arms, her once perfect porcelain skin is now marred with marks from your suction. She looks down at your work, and makes circular motions of her tits with her hands, rubbing your saliva into her skin.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself, but we’re just getting started.” She stands up off your lap and you're able to see her perfectly shaped body in all its glory. Impossibly long legs attached to wide hips was only the gateway to the most lecherous part: slim tight abs laid underneath her most defining feature, which you’ve spent the last ten minutes worshiping. While her bubbly and carefree personality made her born to be an idol, her lustful body full of curves makes you think she was designed by the Gods with the sole intention of being fucked. She lowers her panties which reveal her cleanly shaven glistening pink slit, then leans down to whisper into your ear. 

“Just so you know, before Jennie met you, she and I were competing for biggest whore in all of kpop. Hell, on my last birthday, I let ten guys free use my holes however they wanted.”

Somi makes quick work of your pants, easily sliding them off as she makes her way to the ground. Her delicate fingers wrap around your hard cock slowly pumping up and down. Her tongue joins in on the action, lightly licking underneath your head while continually stroking your cock with her soft hand. 

“This may sound like a surprise, but I love the feeling of a big cock filling my mouth. And yours definitely qualifies.”

The final phrase before your head leans back into the sofa. Somi gives a smile and parts her long blonde hair behind her ears before beginning. Grabbing the base of your cock, she slowly lathers your head with your precum, then slightly puckers her lips and places them on your head–followed up with light kisses and suction against your head. 

That brief sense of buildup is quickly washed away when Somi parts her lips and takes no time on taking the entirety of your length into the back of her throat. There is an initial resistance, but she easily adjusts her throat and continues to slide more and more of you down until her nose meets your crotch. After keeping her head down for a few seconds, she continues to bob her head, each time taking your whole length into her throat. Her full array of techniques are on full display, showing the expertise in her blowjob skills, making sure to keep the pace as painstakingly slow as possible–using her tongue to flick across every surface of your cock on the way up to maximize the amount of pleasure delivered.

It truly shocks you at how gifted she is in sucking cock, but perhaps you shouldn’t be surprised given what she had told you about being the biggest whore in all of kpop. You had previously thought that Jennie’s throat was molded to fit your cock, but Somi was giving her a run for her money. She takes pauses from deepthroating to look up at you and smile while worshiping your cock with pets and kisses. 

Your hands struggle to find a place to rest themselves, wanting to place them on the back of her head, but any direction you could give her wouldn’t live up to her skill. You’re slowly losing your mind in the grasps of the picture perfect idol–the mind blowing pleasure of her blowjob changing by the second, the strength of her suction varying from strong to weak, the speed on which she bobs her head switching from meticulously slow and dangerously fast. 

A loud groan escapes your lips, you’ve been fighting back your own eruption, but her final words tell you that you’ve been wasting your efforts. “Mmmm,” she said oh-so-sweetly. Drool has accumulated all across her chin, dripping down onto her chest.  “You’re making my mouth water.” She pauses in mock-afterthought, “Oh, don’t you just want to cum in my mouth?”

All bets are off, she lightly strokes both of your thighs with her soft hands, bobbing up and down as fast as she can against your shaft. The gagging and choking noises only help to amplify the experience, knowing how needy she is for your cum and how nothing will stop her. Your hands involuntarily find themselves on the back of her head, holding her down for as long as your cock erupts with an ocean of white-hot cum into her mouth.  She moans loudly and begins swallowing, practically slurping the cum from your cock. You release your hold against her head and she pops up, letting a few drops dribble down her to her chest. She fondles her own tits, making them shine against the bright lights with your cum lubricating the giant mounds.

While trying to catch your breath, you find yourself staring at Somi, trying to gauge if she wants to continue. She beats you to the punch and before you can even speak, she offers up her previous menu. “It’s only fair that I give you the same options as I did when I was free use. What will it be? You’ve already used up my mouth, so ass or pussy?” 

The time to be subordinate is over. “Here’s what I’m going to do,” you whisper, pulling her in closer until she is pressed up against your body, “First, I’m going to finger fuck that tight little pussy of yours, get it good and soaking wet. Then, I’m going to eat that delicious pussy of yours, suck your little clit into my mouth and torture it with my tongue.”

“I have a better idea,” she gives you in a clearly bratty tone, “why don’t you just fuck the shit out of me and be done with it. I don’t want to leave this room being able to walk on my own.”

A quick flip of positions, and now Somi is laying on the couch, the long way to get into a comfortable position. She uses one hand to spread her lips apart and the other to grab hold of your cock.

“Looks like the rumors are true. Still hard as ever eh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as her inner Canadian slips out. Finally in position, you put just the head against her wet lips. Slowly you start to insert your cock into her radiating wet core. Her hips thrust forward and upward, but you anticipate her neediness and pull back. You couldn’t help but tease her a little just to get her back for the nightlong events. Again you move forward and the head of your cock barely makes it past her waiting lips before you pull back once again. 

Tethering past the point of her patience, she wraps her legs around your back and pulls you in herself–in one smooth and rapid motion, she impales herself with your throbbing cock. In spite of her wetness, the fit and warmth are incredible and almost unbelievable. A velvet glove is the first thing to come to mind, only this “glove” was about two sizes too small. Despite the claim of being the biggest whore in kpop she is still irrationally tight. She was like a wild woman, even while laying down in missionary, she’s bucking around on your cock as if she were in a race. If it weren’t for already unloading in her mouth, there would be a serious danger of hanging on any longer. 

Not one to give up all sense of control, you place both hands on her hips and thrust into her with precision. Her fluttering eyes and the mixture of screams in both Korean and English gives you every indication that she's riding close to the edge.

Just then she lets out another long and low scream and you feel her pussy contract again and again, trying to milk you like a small suction pump. Her entire body turns into a light shade of pink, her orgasming face turns you on even more. Grabbing two handfuls of otherworldly breasts, you continue to pummel her through every second of her orgasm. Her sensitivity riding on the maximum settings, her hips buck into the air as she's brought to bliss once more. 

Unsatisfied with only making her cum twice, and knowing that you would go through life regretting not tasting her sweet nectar at least once, your lips attach onto her clit while two fingers furiously curl trying to find her gspot. A rhythmic pace and constant flicking of her hardened nub with your tongue do quick work on the mewling beauty. Her hands struggle to find something to grab on to, and she screams louder than she ever has and lets out a violent amount of squirt.

She lays back down on the sofa, struggling to catch her breath after three eye watering orgasms. The amount of endorphins that have flooded her brain makes it hard for her to think before she finally whispers out. 

"What the fuck was that? I've never done that before?"

"You don't mean to tell me that kpop's biggest whore has never squirted before, do you?"

Somi's energy is completely spent, she lightly strokes your cock while you continue to fondle her giant tits. She may be completely drained, but you were still raring to go. Unfortunately for her, the decision to let you cum from the blowjob has your stamina at an all time high. You take a seated position and grab her by the waist and place her on your lap. No longer restricted by the pesky pants blocking the way, you easily glide into her well-used hole. Finding yourself in the same position as earlier in the night, this time only doubly pleasurable with you buried deep inside Somi.

“Ride me Somi.” She lets out an exasperated sigh, but complies to your words, lightly bouncing up and down with both her arms around your neck. Her tits seem to defy gravity as even while she rides you, her perky mounds only slightly jiggle with her movement. While fucking her missionary was first-rate, what this feels like is on a completely different level. Your hands continue to roam her body, while the increased slickness from her recent orgasms feel even greater against your cock. You sloppily slurp on each of her nipples, the sounds of sex fill up the dressing room every time her body slams into yours. 

The pleasure of being fucked overtakes any sense of fatigue Somi has, and she begins to quicken her pace. “Feel so fucking good” she whispers out, almost as if she’s talking to herself. She switches from low sexy groans and high pitched squeals, clearly enjoying herself and pleased with her decision to have you be her staff. Her eyes start to close and she has already dug her nails deep into your back–sharp enough to leave two claw marks strewn across. Her chest gets mashed into your when you pull her in tight, catching a whiff of her musky hair as it lays all across your face. Her cunt was now swallowing you whole, but somehow squeezing you even tighter with each passing moment. This time her pulsating walls as another orgasm built within her is enough to suck you in with her. 

“Somi - you’re gonna make me…”

“Good! Cum for me”

Already past the point of no return, she slams her body into yours at an even faster rate. Knowing that there’s no turning back now, you succumb to the temptation of flesh and let yourself go. The combination of her chest pressed up against yours and her suffocatingly tight walls are too much to overcome, especially considering how long BLACKPINK has been away on tour. One final bounce and a squeeze of her silky walls is enough to make you unload completely inside of her. 

Wave after wave of thick seed is swallowed up by Somi’s cunt, and it doesn't help that her walls keep expanding and contracting with every shot. She plants a surprisingly tender kiss on your forehead.

“Mmm I feel so full. Let’s see how much you came.” She slowly begins to raise her body up,  every drop of sticky liquid that comes flooding out of her landing on your crotch. She uses two finger to gather up as much of this sex fused concoction and brings it up to her mouth, making a show out of it to watch her drink your cum. Back kneeling between your legs, she carefully licks up each drop that she may have missed with her fingers, then lightly sucks your cock completely clean.

“I taste fucking amazing.” Somi proclaims in her ever familiar bratty tone. “I can’t believe they didn’t bring you on tour with them, if they’re not careful I might claim you for myself…” 

[taylorswiftstyle]

The Eras Tour | Speak Now section | Version 6

Nicole + Felicia Couture custom

Besides debut having no section at all (as a debut stan, will I ever let this go? doubtful), I personally find it charming that the album with the shortest section as part of the Eras Tour setlist has the most amount of costume variations. A lot of people have asked me, “Why?”

It’s simple: It's extra. It's dramatic. It's couture. It’s for the fun of it. For the costuming of it!

It's a moment to deliver on frivolity and flights of ephemeral whimsy. For an album that's all about clinging to those last vestiges of girlhood, of innocence, of believing in fairytales and happily ever afters ... Why wouldn't you want to hold on to spinning around in a giant ball gown and relive those times when you last believed in the good in the world - right before being dashed at the foot of an ivory tower? These gowns are an embodiment and a fulfillment of those remaining hopes in true love. 

But back to this particular dress - the first on the final night of six in Los Angeles and also the final night of the U.S. leg of the Eras Tour (2023 Version). It was our first tip off that there was, indeed, a lot going on at the moment. And that makes sense to me because why not connect and segue her most recently released TV album with the next one set to be released. Creating a throughline for her projects through fashion? Yes - I am here for it. By doing this, it underlines the project while also reminding people of where she's at in the journey to reclaim her first six albums. Three down, the fourth to come.I’m personally a sucker for a high, halter neckline like this and the crystal embellishments here? Swoon-worthy.

Based on the comet-like embellishments that light up across the gown I had guessed that this designer would be Zuhair Murad, who designed Version 2 of this dress which featured similar details, but no! The intricate beadwork and 3D floral embellishments here are bespoke Nicole + Felicia who now take the lead in creating gowns for this section of the show - having created half of the six (Versions 1, 5, and 6).

[peeves-gurl]

Thighs

Fred Weasley × BigThigh! Female

i literally have no idea where this is coming from after a year of writing nothing.

Summary: She hates her thighs, but her boyfriend loves them, and he wants to make sure she knows.

Warnings: established relationship, self hate, body dismorphia, lots of fluff, pet names (sweetheart/baby/darling/ love), mention of pregnancy, 18+ MDNI!!

FEMALE CHARACTER HAS NO NAME, AND NO SPECIFIC SKIN/EYE/HAIR COLOUR (partly because i couldn't make my brain come up with so many details😭)

smut: oral fem recieving, thigh fucking, face sitting, unprotected p in v, praise, body worship, hickeys? idk

She looked at herself in the mirror, light makeup highlighting her features beautifully. The thin straps of the sundress hanging across her shoulders, the top resting just above her bust, not exposing much, but not showing anything either. The fabric was a light powder blue with tiny flowers along its length, and it hugged her figure perfectly. It was the perfect summer dress, upto her mid thigh.

She looked alright in her opinion, good even, but for her thighs. They were too thick, with too many stretch marks. The cellulite was dimpled and heavy, and jiggled with each movement of hers, and it truly disgusted her with herself. She was okay with her body, and honestly thought she was attractive when she was dressed well, like today, but her thighs were always the problem.

Gritting her teeth in annoyance, she flung open the door of her wardrobe that she shared with Fred, and picked out a different dress. It was a pale pink one, loose and long, and extended beyond her knees, hiding her biggest insecurity. Still slightly grumpy, she completed the finishing touches to her look, when she heard her boyfriend's voice from the door.

"You ready love?" Fred called out, leaning against the doorframe.

"Yeah. All done." She smiled, grabbing her purse and slipping on her sandals, before walking towards the handsome man. He was dressed in a white tank top vest and blue jeans, and a blue and white floral shirt wrapped around his broad shoulders, completing the summery look.

Fred held out his hand to her, and she delicately placed her much smaller one into his, and he gently pulled her closer to himself. Placing a tender kiss on his lips, she smiled up at him, admiring his beautiful eyes and perfect freckles and his signature Weasley hair that she loved so much.

Fred's eyes trailed down her body in admiration, before he turned back to meet her eyes with a puzzled look.

"You didn't wear that dress?" He asked sincerely, hoping to finally see her in it since she had been so happy buying it weeks ago.

"Not in the mood." She lied, and he nodded convincingly, though he was anything but convinced by her answer.

"Gorgeous, never the less," he said, complimenting her as he always did.

"You more," she smiled, kissing his cheek.

Since buying the dress, it was the only thing that she had talked about. She gushed over how her bag and sandals went perfectly with it, and how she'd style her hair whenever she'd get the chance to wear it. And now, she stood there, wearing something else, and Fred was sure there was more to it than she was showing.

They hurriedly locked their place and apparated to their destination, Lee Jordan's housewarming party. It was just a close knit celebration that he and his girlfriend, Andrea, were hosting together, since moving into their first appartment in London.

She blended quickly among the known faces, smiling and chatting with all their old friends and then joining Andrea and Angelina in a small tour of the appartment. The entire party then ended up in the living room, and she, along with Fred, George and Angelina hopped around their circle, enjoying the little reunion they were having with the entire gang from Hogwarts.

Fred couldn't help but look at her. He always thought her to be the most beautiful woman in the world, and himself to be the luckiest man in the world, to be able to call her his girlfriend. He loved looking at her hair, her soft makeup and her smile, but today it wasn't as big as it always was, and he knew it wasn't as real, and it physically hurt him to not know the reason for it. He was sure it had something to do with her dress, because every time someone complimented her tonight, there seemed to be a bit of hesitation before she uttered her usual 'thank you'.

She'd been saving it up for some 'special occasion', and as soon as Lee had called to extend an invitation to the party, she had been delighted at the idea of getting to wear it the way she had wanted. Fred was happy that she was happy, and now she wasn't, and he didn't know why.

It was nearly midnight when the party ended, and Fred and George finally bid goodbye, ready with their plan to spend the next day together at their shop, as per usual. She hugged Angelina, and then got hold of Fred's hand and apparated them back to their front door. Fred unlocked it and hung the keys in their spot as she headed back to their room to change into her pajamas. The feeling of her thighs touching each other under the dress made her want to throw up. She felt disgusting in her body and she just wanted to cover herself from head to toe and bury herself quietly into the blankets.

Her expression must have given it away, because Fred walked into the room right as she took out her pajamas.

"Hey," whisper into her ear, kissing her neck softly, and his hands circled her waist. "Don't change just yet, love. I haven't had the chance to admire you properly tonight."

"The dress is a bit uncomfortable", she replied, trying to stop her voice from breaking.

"Just a few minutes, please?" He requested, and she complied, twisting around in his arms to finally face him. His eyes were so full of love for her that it nearly made her cry, and when he leaned down to press his lips to hers, a stray tear managed to find its way down her cheek.

"Baby what's wrong?" He asked, gently wiping the tear away.

"Nothing, just tired," she lied.

"Why didn't you wear that dress today?" He asked again, and she repeated her previous answer of not being in the mood to wear it.

"Don't lie to me," he condemned softly, and she knew she was caught. "Tell me love, why didn't you wear it?"

The singular tear that had made its way out of her eyes was now followed by many more, and before she knew, she was a sobbing mess in front of her boyfriend. Fred pulled her into himself and comforted her, his hands gliding over her back and just letting her know that he was there, and he would be there forever.

When she had finally calmed down, Fred gently guided her over to their bed, and sat down, as she stood before him with puffy and swollen eyes. He slowly pulled her onto himself, making her straddle his lap and resting his hands across her back.

"What's the matter Princess?" he coaxed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "It's something about that dress isn't it?"

She breathed in deeply, contemplating weather she should tell him or not. Of course she can tell him, he's Freddie, her Freddie, and he'd always understand.

"Ihatemythighs" she blurted out in a single breath, only to find Fred looking down at her, amused.

"Try saying that slower baby? I'm not that smart," he joked, earning a small smile.

"I hate my thighs," she said finally. "They're fat and ugly and they move around a lot, and that dress reveals them too much."

"Don't say that darling!" Fred said seriously, upset over what she'd just said about herself. "I've seen you try that dress on and you looked gorgeous!"

"Those trial room lights make everything look good, but I look horrid in that dress." She said.

"Do not say that about yourself," Fred scolded. "You're the most beautiful woman I've seen, with the most beautiful body and the most beautiful thighs. I won't hear anyone talk like that about you, even if you're the one saying it."

"You'd obviously say that, you're my boyfriend," she reasoned.

"I'm not lying sweetheart, I swear. You don't have to be insecure about anything." He said, only to be matched with a blank look from her.

"You don't believe me." He stated in disappointment, settling his hands over her thighs, through her dress, his fingers steadily moving towards the hem. "Can I?" He asked cautiously, not wanting to make her any more uncomfortable. She took a deep breath before nodding, allowing him to flip it up and run his fingers on the smooth skin.

"I love you. Every thing about you is perfect. You've got the most beautiful face, and I can't stop looking at it. Your eyes, your lips, your cute button nose," he said, leaning in to peck it. "I love your hair, and you look gorgeous when you leave it down. I love your neck, and that tiny freckle on your collarbone." He buried his nose at the base of her neck, breathing her scent, and nibbling gently.

"I love your boobs, and I can't stop thinking about them when you're not around, and your bum too," he smiled cheekily as his hands trailed up her thighs to gently squeeze her ass, and then returned to their previous place. "I love your arms, the way they wrap around my neck when I kiss you. And those damn hands, those fingers, could very well be the death of me." He smiled, kissing her exposed shoulder, and then her upper arm a few times.

"And your stomach is so soft darling. I love just looking at it, thinking if someday you'd let me put a baby in there?" He smiled, earning back a smile and a nod from her. "Your pussy, baby. I'm not even going to say anything, because you know she's better than drugs. And I love your legs, especially when you show them off in pretty skirts and dresses. I love it when you wrap them around me and pull me closer when I make love to you."

"So pretty," he whispered, caressing her thighs, barely audible. "Such beautiful thighs baby, so soft. I want to bury myself into them right fucking now."

"Freddie, please" she whispered back, not even sure what she was pleading for.

"Can I baby? Please?" He said, running his fingers over the smooth skin, and she nodded without thinking.

Fred's arms looped around her back, holding her tight to himself as he stood up and turned them around. He gently lay her down on the bed and got on between her legs. Leaning down to kiss her deeply, he whispered praises to her, making her feel so loved.

He kissed her neck and collarbone, leaving a few stray hickeys, and then pushed the straps of her dress aside to show the same love to her shoulders. Looking up at her for confirmation, he slipped her dress off her body and tossed it away in the room.

She was there now, in nothing but a pair of panties, and she could feel her usual confidence seep back into her body. She reached for Fred and pulled him back in, kissing him passionately and lovingly. Her hands fisted his shirt and pulled it off him, soon followed by his tank top vest, leaving his torso as bare as hers.

"Hmm that's how I like it," he encouraged into the kiss. Soon enough, he moved to her breasts, biting and sucking, and the room was filled with her moans. He kissed his way down to her panties, and she lifted her hips to let him pull them down. He placed her legs over his shoulders, and she shut her eyes in anticipation.

Instead of going right to her clit, he began to kiss and caress her thighs. "They're so pretty sweetheart. Why would you ever dislike them?" He whispered, teasing the skin with his teeth. He licked up the length of her left thigh, but stopped short of where she needed him. He began to suck and nibble the flesh there, drawing moan after moan from her throat. Soon enough, he was repeating his actions on her right thigh, and she was getting hornier by the minute.

Finally, his tongue reached where she wanted, and her eyes rolled back into her head at the feeling. Her fingers found themselves intertwined in his hair, pulling and tugging each time he did something more pleasurable than he'd done previously. Her walls had began to clench around nothing, and the pleasure she felt was too much to hold back. She was so close to her climax, moaning Fred's name, at the edge of bursting, when Fred stopped his actions and pulled away. Groaning, she sat up to face him, as he smiled through his slick covered lips.

"Sit on my face," he demanded with a grin.

"What? No." She said breathlessly.

"Please baby, it's not something that we haven't done before," he reasoned.

"But my thighs are really big and you..."

"No buts, come on!" He said, lying flat on his back, waiting for her to climb onto him.

Still not very sure of the idea, she positioned herself, but didn't put any weight on him, choosing to hover over his face instead. A blush crept up her neck and made its way to her face at being so spread out in front of him.

Fred smiled and licked a stripe from her entrance to her clit, and her head hung back at the feeling, as he picked up right where he had left off. Seeing her pleasure, his hands caressed her ass, before he pulled her onto himself entirely. He moaned at the feeling of being between her thighs, and began eating her out with even more enthusiasm than before.

She was so lost in her pleasure that she forgot her insecurity and began grinding down his face once his tongue entered her, and her moans were reciprocated with his own. She was coming in mere minutes, and it was probably the one of the best orgasms she'd had.

As she came down from her high, she shifted back from his face, sitting on Fred's chest now. His eyes were drowsy and his face was covered in her slick, as he smiled up at her. She immediately felt something hard behind herself and instantly reached her hand out, unzipping his jeans and letting her hand slide under the waistband of his boxers to reach his dick. Fred groaned in pleasure when her hand brushed against his sensitive tip, and instinctively jerked his hips forward.

"Don't," he grunted, almost sounding pained. "I won't be able to hold it in."

"Then don't hold it in, Freddie." She smiled, leaning down to kiss him, moaning at her own taste all over his mouth. She quickly whispered a soft "I love you," only for him to hear.

"Want to fuck you baby," he said. "Please."

She let go of him at his request, and climbed off him. Her hands busied themselves with getting rid of his jeans and boxers, as he lay on the bed watching her. As soon as he was completely undressed, he sat up, and then proceeded to get off the bed, much to her confusion. He walked over to ger dresser, hurriedly tossing everything off it onto the chair next to it. He came back towards her then, offering his hand to her, and she took it, following him off the bed.

"Going to fuck your thighs today, baby." He declared, "Need you to know how much I love them. Is that okay?"

She nodded, letting him sit on the sturdy wooden table, with his back against the mirror, and stood right between his legs. One of his hands rested on her waist as he finally took his length in the other and guided it to her slit, rubbing it through her wetness and letting his head fall back against the mirror in pleasure. She had enough of his teasing now, so she quickly took matters into her own hands. Her fingers pulled away his own from his dick, and she wrapped her palm around him now. He let her take the lead, both his hands clutching onto her waist, and holding her in place. Spreading her hickey covered thighs a little, she guided his tip through the gap. He thrusted forward in relief, and he brushed perfectly against her clit, giving her just as much pleasure as him. His head now rested on her shoulder, and his moans went straight into her ears, turning her into a complete mess.

It was slow at first, since they had never tried this before, but once the pleasure built up, Fred's thrusts became more confident and sure, until he was close enough for them to become sloppy once more. She was just as close, her clit throbbing with each stroke against it.

"I'm so close baby," he whispered hoarsely. "Where do you want it?"

"Inside Freddie, please!" She replied, barely able to keep her eyes open. He immediately pulled her onto himself and she was straddling his lap now, her hand guiding his tip into her warmth. She sat down as soon as the tip was inside, completely sheathing him, and burying her face into his chest.

"So warm love. So good." He moaned, thrusting up into her mercilessly.

"You're so big Freddie. Could never get used to you," she said back in her state of complete haze. Her walls fluttered around him, and he connected their lips, his tongue intertwined hers as she came hard. Fred followed seconds later, his moans swallowed by her as their lips remained connected, and his warmth coated her insides.

She once again buried herself into his chest as they stilled, her arms in their rightful place around him, and his softening dick still inside her. He held her close to himself, warm breath fanning her back as his head rested on her shoulder.

"Baby?" He whispered after a few moments of silence, and his voice was laced with his usual mischief.

"Hmm?"

"Do you like your thighs yet? If not then I'd love to try again."

[tpwkwriter]

could you please do a fic about model reader and harry always supporting her please?

Front row for you.

Thank you for the request! This is actually a really sweet idea! I had to do this with FBH 💓

Description: y/n can finally love her dream for real, and harry wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Absolute fluff and cuteness🌷

Ps: my requests are open!!❤️

— — — — —

The dressing rooms of manhattans centre were hustling and bustling, full of laugh and talk.

Y/n sat on her vanity chair twirling her curled hair around her finger, this was her 4th year being a professional model and taking it seriously, it had shocked her how far her career had sky rocketed.

She couldn’t quiet believe she was sitting backstage of one of the biggest fashion events of the year.

As a child she begged her parents to take her to nyc or London just to watch the fashion week before her eyes, and now she was part of it.

The thought of also being able to bring her parents and family to New York City was also not on y/n’s list but the fact she could made her proud of herself.

The only person missing now was Harry, a bit of her heart broke knowing he couldn’t make it back in the US in time.

When y/n received her invitation to the event, she called harry straight away with floods of happy tears and jumpy hands.

Y/n’s mind jolted back to reality, this was happening? A hard knock was at her door.

“Come on in” she called twirling around on her stool to face the door.

“Y/n babe, 5 minutes till showtime!! It’s completely packed out there! 2,200 people out there waiting including the one and only Micheal kors!” Her manager squealed.

“Wow” she sighed

“Y/n? Are you nervous?” She said walking towards her and gently closing her door behind her.

“Mainly excited nerves, y’know this has been my dream since a little girl” she smiled

“Of course! Well not long now and remember your family have somewhat been able to get front row so give them a smile?” She laughed.

‘Front row?, thought that was only for high status people’ she mentally thought.

“Oh wow, oh well thanks” she blushed not believing her luck.

“Oh and also, remember to straighten that dress when you leave!” Her manager reminded before slipping out the door.

A sigh left the girls mouth, she couldn’t wait to do this, she stood up and walked in front of her full length sized mirror and checked out her dress.

An elegant white, floral dress that hung perfectly to showcase her sliver heels, she gently smoothed the silky texture with her hands and got ready to join the rest of the girls next to the stage.

Before she does so her phone dings.

H🫶🏼: good-luck out there tonight baby, I’m sorry I can’t be there tonight, tour isn’t as fun without you, I know you’ll do amazing and I’ll be watching some shitty livestream, I love you so much x

Y/n🌷: thank you H, miss you more than ever! Still can’t get over I’m doing this😭 love and miss you loads❤️x

She typed out and sent, y/n knew it would be nearly impossible for him to fly out so quick knowing he has a show the next day. She put her phone down and went to join the girls.

The audience sat in anticipation watching the opening of the show, and the presenter begin.

Y/n was the second model to walk the runway on her own, she was going to have a total 3 outfit changes through the evening and spend most the time on stage.

“Ok girls, give it everything you have, Petra as soon as that music starts your on, y/n as soon as Petra hits half that halfway line you start your strut” her manager states ensuring everyone of when they appear and do there bit.

“Remember not to slow, not to fast, a smile and sassy side tonight ladies” she claps.

The presenter had left stage, ‘this was it’ she thought

A roar of claps and cheers occurred when the first model strutted onto to stage, y/n discreetly peered beside the curtain to take a look at the audience and try to locate her family and there they were right side of the stage front row almost close enough to touch the stage if they wished.

Y/n peered closer by curtain to travel someone familiar by her dad.

No..Harry?

Her heart was pounding and her head was racing? That was Harry? Harry made it?

“Y/n, you don’t want to reveal yourself just yet!” Her manger said reaching out for her shoulder.

“Harry!! Harry’s here!” She excitedly squealed pointing towards him.

She smiled in reply.

“You knew about this?” Y/n asked.

“Well, we needed someone to be able to get your family front row” she winked.

“Your on in right aboutttt” she dragged.

“Now” she said pushing her gently.

Y/n quickly adjusted her hair and flattened out her dress once more.

Before walking from backstage to reveal herself to the 2,200 people.

She practically wanted to run over to Harry and throw herself at him, but the show was to go on regardless.

With a start of a slow walk she began to quicken her pace, her arms remaining on her gown at all times making sure the pictures captured the Beauty and detail of the fendi gown.

She could see her family rising out of there seat as she strides closer, her heart almost running marathons in her chest at the excitement and adrenaline she is facing.

As mums do she held her phone camera out at her daughter capturing this special moment, her father almost dropping a tear from his eye at the sight.

“Harry!!!” she blushed blowing quick kisses to him.

“Hi baby” he mouthed using his hand to catch the kisses.

For the rest of the walk she held a big toothy grin, this couldn’t get any better.

— — — — —

At just about midnight the night of y/n’s life came to halt.

As soon as the presenter appeared back to stage to thank everyone and close the evening, Harry and her family had already made it to y/n’s dressing room.

“Harry” she sighed leaning into his scent and warmth, something she hasn’t been able to do in over 2 months.

“Only you could get away with wearing jeans and a top to New York fashion week” she muttered into his shoulder.

“Heeyyy, didn’t want to upstage you darling” he smirked which caused the girls parents to laugh.

“Shush it” she smiled reluctantly letting go to hug her parents.

“Oh darling we’re so proud of you” her mum began, cupping her cheeks and giving her a mum hug.

“How did we make such a beautiful girl” her mum continues.

“Not quiet sure, Harry your lucky man” her dad stated and put a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Most definitely” he smiled.

With some love and affection from both her parents, it was finally Harry and y/n in the dressing room.

“Can’t believe you” she smiled walking into his embrace once again.

“I wouldn’t miss this day, are you crazy?” He smiled.

“I didn’t think it was even possible”

“Mm it is when it comes to you darling” he hummed kissing her head

“You’ve got a show tomorrow though” she pouted looking up at him.

“Come with me” he stated.

“Babyyyy” she whined.

“Only one more week in Paris, and then it’s just us in sweet London hey?” He continues using his ringed fingers to play with her hair.

“Got more work to do here though, y’know I want tooooooo” she dragged in a whiny tone.

“Uh uh” he hummed

“Sarah managed to find you work in Paris, s’can still fly out with me, s’up to you darling”

“Oh my god, you really think of everything” she stated kissing his chest.

“Best get to the hotel room and sleep, m’tired and plus tomorrow must be an early start for us”

“Y’know it, now c’mon get your pretty little self into something comfy and we’ll get going” he added.

“Y’looked gorgeous up there tonight, my model girlfriend, how cool is that” he smirked.

“Well, my rockstar boyfriend and your model girlfriend make quiet the coolest pair” he said in a matter of facalty.

— — — — —

[bradshawsbaby]

Forever Valentine

Pairing: Rooster x Fiancée!Reader

Author’s Note: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written anything for the Bradshaws, huh? I had a weird anxiety about writing this one, which I think was due in part to the fact that I haven’t written for them since Christmas. But I’m happy with how this little story came out! It was written for @roosterforme​’s #love is in the air tgm challenge! The song that inspired it is Can’t Take My Eyes Off You by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Pre-wedding stress, a smidge of angst, and a whole lot of fluff.

You felt like you were going to cry.

You couldn’t remember ever feeling so stressed out about anything in your life, and that included the time you registered for that anthropology class in the spring semester of your senior year thinking it would be an easy three credits, only for it to end up being more work than all four years of college combined. At least your stress had made sense then—bioarchaeology wasn’t necessarily the most chipper of topics. But now? This was supposed to be the most exciting time of your life, and you felt like you were ruining all the joy by letting yourself get so worked up.

In a little over a week, you would be walking down the aisle to join your life forevermore to the man you loved more than anything in the world.

And yet, you were frantic.

Despite the fact that you and Bradley had been engaged for over a year, and that you’d been planning your wedding for nearly as long, it still felt like there wasn’t enough time to get everything done. The past month alone had felt like a whirlwind, an endless marathon where you kept running and pushing, and yet somehow never made it past the finish line.

Bradley had been amazing, as he always was. While he couldn’t really care less about wedding details—he would have been just as happy getting married in bathing suits at The Hard Deck as he was to get married in his dress whites at the church you’d booked last year—he never failed to offer his unending support and encouragement. He went with you on every venue tour, tasted every flavor of cake imaginable, let you drive him to the brink of insanity comparing floral arrangements, sat up with you all night making seating charts, left you encouraging notes when you went dress shopping, and held you tightly whenever the stress of it all became too much and you just needed to bawl your eyes out.

If you had ever doubted that Bradley Bradshaw was the man for you—which you hadn’t—his devotion and patience during the wedding planning process would have sealed the deal for you. You still weren’t sure how you had ever gotten so blessed, but at least now you’d have the rest of your life to thank your lucky stars for it.

At the moment, however, you weren’t exactly feeling blessed. Stressed was probably the more appropriate term.

In just a week and a day, you and Bradley would finally be saying “I do,” but it felt like there were a million things that needed to be done before that time. Penny and Phoenix had been an amazing help, and your mom would be here in a few days to help tie up some of the last minute details, but you’d always had a hard time delegating and ended up putting too much pressure on your own shoulders. Bradley affectionately scolded you about it all the time.

“Honey, why don’t you let Penny help you with this?” he’d asked one night, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he watched you fuss over the menu options for the reception. “You know she’d be happy to.”

“I know,” you’d nodded in response, brow furrowed in concentration. “But I don’t want to bother her.”

“Can I do anything?” he asked on other occasions, always looking a bit terrified by all the checklists and folders you had scattered around you at any given time.

“No, no, it’s okay,” you always rushed to reassure him. “I’ve got it.”

Still, he always stayed with you and made sure, in the midst of everything, that you were eating enough and drinking plenty of water. And that mattered so much more than anything else he could have done.

Your heart was pierced with guilt now as you sat in the living room of your apartment, making final confirmations with vendors and going over your checklists for the one hundred millionth time. Your fiancé was such a good man—the best man you had ever known. And he had been your rock through all of this. Not only were you concerned about the wedding and your honeymoon plans, but you and Bradley had also recently closed on the apartment where you were going to begin your lives together as husband and wife, and planning for that move was taking up a good chunk of space in your brain. Still, he had never once complained about how scatter-brained you’d been recently. On the contrary, he’d spent the past several weeks trying everything in his power to lift some of your self-imposed pressure off your shoulders. Bradley had done nothing but show his love for you at every turn.

And how did you repay all that love and kindness? You’d forgotten that today was Valentine’s Day.

Bradley had stayed over at your place the night before, as he often did, but you had been up so late, talking on the phone with your mom for hours, that you’d slept through both of his alarms this morning. Evidently he hadn’t wanted to disturb you, because you had no memory at all of him climbing out of bed and getting ready for work. When you did wake up a few hours later, however, you walked into the kitchen to find a yellow rose—your favorite—sitting beside the coffee pot, along with a little handwritten Post-it note stuck to the machine.

Happy Valentine’s Day, honey! I love you so much and I can’t wait to be your husband. Just 8 more days!

You felt like you’d been hit by a freight train. Despite all your careful planning and compulsive checklists, you’d somehow completely overlooked the fact that today was February 14th. You felt like the world’s worst fiancée.

In all fairness, you and Bradley had already talked about how you weren’t going to do anything big for Valentine’s Day this year.

“I know it’ll be a week before the wedding, and you’ve got so much going on, so we can keep it simple this year,” Bradley had murmured as the two of you had been lying in bed together. “We’ll just get to celebrate double next year,” he added with a grin, kissing your forehead.

“Sounds like a plan,” you had laughed in response, snuggling against his chest.

But this went beyond keeping it simple. You hadn’t even remembered. Bradley had been sweet enough to still find a way to make you feel special, and you hadn’t even woken up to give him a kiss goodbye this morning.

Hurrying back to your bedroom, you snatched up your phone and immediately opened your messages with Bradley.

Happy Valentine’s Day, baby! I love you! ♥️

A few minutes later, you heard your phone buzz and glanced down to see your fiancé’s response.

See you tonight, honey 😘

Bradley didn’t even necessarily know you had forgotten, but you still felt horribly guilty all the same. That afternoon, in between making phone calls, you raced out to the store and picked up some of his favorites candies and treats. You also placed a take-out order for dinner from his favorite restaurant, knowing you wouldn’t have time to cook for him this year.

You loved him more than anything, and you wanted him to know that. As special as he always made you feel, you wanted him to be confident in the knowledge that he was just as special and precious to you.

Thankfully, you managed to arrive back to your apartment with dinner before Bradley returned from work. Having already set out the candy you’d bought for him on the kitchen table, you popped the food into the oven to keep it warm for when he was ready to eat.

Plopping back down on the couch, you only had a few minutes to review your venue contract before you heard the front door to your apartment opening, Bradley using the key you’d given him before the two of you had even gotten engaged.

“Honey?” he called out, his deep voice causing goosebumps to rise on your arms immediately. You could definitely get used to hearing that greeting every night for the rest of your life.

Dropping the contract and jumping up off the couch, you hurried to the entryway to greet him, flinging your arms around him and kissing him deeply. You could feel his mustache tickling your upper lip, which made you giggle against his mouth.

“Well hello,” Bradley grinned when you finally pulled back, his arms settling snugly around your waist. “That was quite a greeting after a long day of flight maneuvers,” he chuckled, nuzzling his nose against yours as he leaned in closer.

“I missed you,” you told him, cupping his face in your hands and brushing another kiss, softer this time, against his lips.

Bradley smiled into the kiss, squeezing your hip affectionately. “Mmm, I missed you, too. You looked so tired that I didn’t want to disturb you this morning, but I missed getting to give you a proper goodbye before I left,” he admitted, peppering your jawline with gentle pecks.

His words were full of tenderness, but you felt a stab of guilt once more. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, burying your face in his neck as you wrapped your arms around him more tightly and hugged him close.

Surprised, Bradley chuckled lightly and dropped a kiss on the top of your head. “You don’t have to be sorry, baby. I know you were up late.” His large fingers brushed up and down your spine comfortingly. “Hope you treated yourself to a nice, big cup of coffee this morning.”

You nodded, your face still pressed in the crook between his neck and his shoulder. “I did. Thank you for the rose and the note. It made my day,” you said softly, your lips ghosting across his shoulder.

“Of course,” he murmured, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair. “I know we said we weren’t going to do anything too big, but I still wanted to do something for you for Valentine’s Day. I’m sorry it wasn’t much,” he apologized.

“Don’t say sorry,” you insisted, pulling back and looking up into his dark brown eyes. “It was perfect.”

“So are you,” Bradley grinned, kissing you gently.

Trying to push away the minor guilt that was still gnawing uncomfortably at you, you took his hand and led him into the kitchen. “I picked up dinner for you, if you’re hungry now,” you told him, thinking of the chicken pot pie that was resting in the oven. Bradley always said that it was the only pot pie he’d ever tasted at a restaurant that reminded him of his mom’s. “Chicken pot pie from Duncan’s.”

“Oh, wow, really? Thank you, honey!” he said excitedly, squeezing your hand as he stepped into the kitchen with you. “Damn, and all this, too?” he added, his eyes widening as they took in all the candy and snacks you’d laid out on the table. “You’re spoiling me tonight, baby. You definitely beat me at the Valentine’s Day game this year.”

You weren’t expecting it, but Bradley’s words suddenly had you bursting into tears, covering your face with your hands as you stood over by the oven.

Dropping the pack of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups that he’d been holding, Bradley was by your side in an instant, wrapping you up in his arms and tucking your head underneath his chin. “Hey, hey, shh,” he murmured soothingly, rocking back and forth lightly. “What’s the matter, baby? What’s wrong?”

“I’m the worst fiancée ever!” you sobbed, hiccupping into his chest. “I don’t want you to think I’m so good! I totally forgot it was Valentine’s Day,” you confessed, sniffling loudly. “I only remembered when I saw your note this morning. So trust me, I most definitely did not beat you at the Valentine’s Day game.”

Bradley’s eyes widened as he listened to you ramble, one large hand moving up and down your back with firm strokes. Then, without warning, he started to laugh.

“It’s not funny!” you exclaimed, your face mottled with tears as you pulled back to glare up at him. “You do everything for me, and you’ve been so amazing, especially with all my wedding craziness, and I can’t even remember to buy you a piece of candy on Valentine’s Day? Some wife I’m going to make!” you cried irrationally.

Bradley sobered immediately at your outburst, holding your face in his hands and forcing you to look up at him. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he said, waiting until you made direct eye contact with him. “I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have laughed. I know you’ve been under so much pressure lately,” he went on, brushing your tears away with his thumbs. “Between the wedding and the new apartment and everything else that you have going on, who cares that you forgot Valentine’s Day? I certainly don’t!”

“But I do,” you sniffled, reaching up to wipe your nose with the back of your hand. “I love you. I love you so much. And I want you to know that,” you explained, your voice trembling with further unshed tears.

“I do know that,” Bradley replied gently, caressing your cheek with a gentle hand. “It would be kind of crazy of me to doubt it considering we’re getting married next week,” he added with a soft chuckle. “Baby, you forgot one Valentine’s Day. Considering everything else you’ve been juggling—and juggling perfectly, I might add—it’s pretty amazing what you’re able to do on a daily basis. It doesn’t bother me at all that this slipped your mind.”

Crumpling, you buried your face in his chest and started to cry all over again.

“I think I know what this is really about,” Bradley murmured, resting his cheek against the top of your head and holding you close. “You’ve been way too stressed out about the wedding lately. And that’s my fault. I’ve been too preoccupied with work, and letting you deal with too much on your own.”

“No, that’s not true. You’ve been—”

Bradley silenced your interruption with a kiss, stroking your hair tenderly. “Our wedding is supposed to be a happy day, baby. The happiest day of our lives. I know it’s going to be for me because it’s the day I get to call you mine forever. And I want it to be for you, too. I want you to get to enjoy all the hard work you’ve been putting into making this such a special day for everyone. It should be a special day for you above everyone else.”

“It will be,” you promised, offering him a watery smile. “Because I can’t wait to marry you.”

He smiled, dropping another soft kiss on your lips. “No more stress, honey. No more worrying. No more planning. No more checklists. No more trying to do everything by yourself. I’m here for you. And I want to help you. It is our wedding, after all,” he told you with a teasing grin.

You let out a breathy laugh, nodding your head slowly. “You’re right,” you agreed softly.

“And no more beating yourself up about forgetting Valentine’s Day either,” Bradley insisted, resting his hands on your shoulders and shooting you a pointed look. “We’re going to have so many Valentine’s Days together, baby. If we remembered every single one, we’d run out of things to do. Trust me, I’m more than satisfied knowing that you’re my forever Valentine,” he smiled, curling his finger under your chin and lifting your face so that your eyes met.

“How do you always know the right thing to say?” you pouted playfully, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Bradley threw back his head and laughed at that, beaming. “You know, my mom used to say that she would ask my dad that same exact question. Usually, it was when he was managing to get out of trouble. Guess it’s just a Bradshaw quality.”

“Oh, well, thank goodness I’m marrying into such a good family then,” you giggled, leaning up to kiss him sweetly.

“You’re going to be the perfect addition to the Bradshaw clan,” Bradley smiled, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

You sighed softly, contentedly, as you snuggled up against his chest, resting your head on his shoulder. “I love you so much,” you whispered.

“I love you right back. More than words could ever say,” Bradley responded, turning his head so that his lips could brush against your forehead.

The two of you stood like that for a while, perfectly content to remain wrapped in each other’s arms as the tension of a long day seeped out of your bones. There was no place that felt safer than one another’s embrace.

You finally pulled back, giggling, when you heard Bradley’s stomach rumble.

“Sorry,” he grinned sheepishly, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Guess I’m hungrier than I realized.”

“Let me get dinner on the table for you,” you told him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Why don’t you go freshen up?”

He nodded, dropping a quick succession of kisses on your mouth before stepping out of the kitchen.

Smiling, you cleared the kitchen table of all the candy you’d purchased, setting out plates and utensils before moving over to the oven to take out the food you’d ordered. Before you could place the food on the table, however, you suddenly heard music begin blaring from the speakers in the living room. You recognized those familiar strains.

You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off of you

You'd be like Heaven to touch

I wanna hold you so much

At that moment, Bradley reappeared in the entryway to the kitchen, grinning from ear to ear.

“What’s this? A little mood music for dinner?” you laughed, resting a hand on your hip.

Stepping towards you, Bradley held out his hand with an infectious smile. “Dance with me,” he said, waiting patiently.

You didn’t hesitate as you slipped your hand into his, letting him pull you close to his chest as he spun you around the kitchen to the musical stylings of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons.

“I love you, baby,” he sang against your ear, his voice melding with the music so perfectly that you were tempted to tease him about becoming the Fifth Season. But instead, you closed your eyes and let his soothing voice drift over you, washing away all the stress and anxiety that had been building up inside you these past few weeks.

You couldn’t wait to marry this man, this man who danced with you in the kitchen even when you had forgotten Valentine’s Day, and who spent every moment of every day reminding you how loved and cherished you were.

The day you became Mrs. Bradshaw would be the happiest day of your life. And it would have nothing to do with the floral arrangements or the wedding venue or the flavor of the cake. Instead, it would have everything to do with the man who was waiting for you at the end of the aisle. The man who wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off you, the same way you wouldn’t be able to take your eyes off him.

“I love you, Bradley Bradshaw,” you told him, beaming up at him as the song slowly started to come to an end.

“I love you, too, honey,” he smiled, kissing you deeply. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

[souperbloom]

Tours over!! We def need a blurb of the boys coming home. Preferably Ash I swear I’ve read everything written about Ashton :/

thank you for the request, friend! i do agree, we are in dire need of some Ash homecoming content. how about a smutty little reunion? ;0

hope you enjoy <3

————————

honey, i’m home! [A.I.]

🏠 i’m biased towards this photo because i was there, teehee

boyfriend!ash. a reunion, if you will. :)

after a long three months away on tour, your boyfriend Ashton finally comes home.

CONTENT WARNINGS: references to weed, suggestive language, pet names.

WORDCOUNT: 1.9k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Today was the day.

After three months of an empty couch, an unraided fridge, and the divot on the right side of your mattress growing cold, your boyfriend Ashton was finally coming home.

Today was the fuckin’ day.

You sat on the edge of your seat, literally, barely taking up any space on the couch cushions. Your feet were bolted to the floor, practically ready to blast off into space.

Or, to jump up and greet him.

You’d check your phone every now and then, watching the hours tick by growing later and later, and occasionally seeing your lover’s name light up the screen.

There have been a few updates on his ETA, random photos from his camera roll of the two of you, and even some mindless, lovesick babbling. Rambling on about how much he missed you and ‘couldn’t wait to come home to see your sweet face.’

Each time his name popped up, you’d smile; feeling nothing short of a kid in a candy store. You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face not only after seeing you, but after seeing what you had planned.

You had decided to make Ashton’s homecoming an event, of sorts. A dreamy date night filled with all of his favorite things that you were sure he was missing.

And, of course, being that you knew him better than anyone in this world, you made sure to think of everything.

A fresh bouquet of daisies on the kitchen table, straight from his favorite farmer’s market. A joint, rolled with love, for the two of you to share and smoke out on your balcony. A fridge stocked full of his favorite snacks and foods.

And lastly, the pièce de résistance of it all.

A few days prior, you had gone out shopping on your own at the little boutiques down on Rodeo. You found yourself wandering into a quaint lingerie shop, only to walk out with the most beautiful, most expensive, two-piece set that ever graced their mannequins.

It was an emerald green two-piece, covered in floral lace and complete with its own matching silk slip. You thought it was perfect for the comfortable, homesick-curing aura you were trying to create around you and Ashton’s home.

And green is Ashton’s favorite color, after all.

After a few more moments of quiet, the mellow sounds of classic rock streaming softly out of your speaker, your phone lights up.

ASHTON ❥:

Be home in 5. Love you so much.

Can’t wait 2 see you. xo

It took everything in you not to let out a piercingly loud girlish squeal, rocking back and forth on the couch and clutching your phone like it was just going to just fly right out of your hands. But you didn’t want risk your neighbors thinking you were being attacked—

You didn’t want a repeat of the last time Ashton made you scream.

With Ashton’s messages still shining on your screen, you toss your phone to the side. You decide to stand up from your permanent spot on the couch, and do one last run around of the house to make sure everything was perfect, and in order.

The flowers were still on the kitchen table, yes. The sweets and fresh fruits were all still in the fridge, right where you had left them. Your bed was still made, thank God, and the stick of incense you had lit still had about an hour of life left in it.

Safe to say, everything you had thought of was perfect.

As you walk through the halls of your spacious, yet lived in home, you hear a familiar sound.

A click.

Then, another.

A squeak.

And one last sound that made your heart start to flutter.

"Honey, I’m home!"

Without a second to think, you’re rushing towards the front door. Your socked feet padded along the hardwood floors as you ran, cutting corners and slipping along.

"Baby? I hear you…"

The sweet sound of his voice grew louder, your heart just ready to burst and pop out of your throat into fireworks. You round the corner to the foyer—

And there he was.

"Ashton!" You gleam, finally seeing him for the first time since he had started his journey out of the country and across the world.

He sported unkempt, overgrown curls and a black trench coat, that was tugged off slightly from the heavy duffle bags that sat on his broad shoulders.

It was almost impossible for you not to swoon.

You barrel past his bags as he drops them on the floor, jumping into his arms and practically lifting yourself off of the ground.

"Hi, sweetheart," he hums into your ear with a voice like honey, as your body clings onto his, "I missed you so fuckin’ much."

He holds you tightly, his cologne hitting your nose almost instantly with the way you had your face buried in the crook of his neck.

"I missed you more, baby— fuck— I missed you." Your words are slightly muffled by the material of his coat, not long before he’s pulling away from the hug to get a better look at you.

"Look at you. Fuckin’ look at my girl. Thought I was dreaming when I saw this sweet face again," he trails off, letting his eyes linger behind your head to admire all of the little sweet nothings you had prepared for him, "Is this all for me?"

"Mhm, it is. You are definitely not dreaming," you hum, proudly.

Ashton pulls you in for one last squeeze, then places a sloppy kiss upon your lips.

"I am the luckiest guy in the world," he sighs, adjusting his arms around you, "Think I gotta get a better look at all the stuff my girl did f’me."

"Come in, stay a while." You try your hand at biting back a smile as you pull away from him, but can’t seem to contain the elated expression plastered on your face.

He shrugs off his coat, hanging it on the hook next to yours. Inhaling deeply, he smiles, "Do I smell Paolo Santo?"

"Mhmmm." Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, with your arms behind your back as you swing impatiently from side to side.

"Good choice," he nods.

"Your favorite."

With all of his bags now on the floor, and his Doc Martens still laced to his ankles, he quietly steps through the foyer to the kitchen. You watch from behind him through adoring eyes, loving every second of watching him discover each and every little detail.

"Daisies—?" He tosses you a sweet look over his shoulder, but stops in his tracks as his eyes meet yours.

He scans down your frame, finally taking in what you had been waiting for. The emerald green silk slip, in all of its glory.

"Holy shit—" he stops himself again, turning all the way around to face you.

"Well, whatdaya’ think of my outfit?" You ask, fanning out your hands and showing off the full extent of the dress and all of its means of hugging your curves.

His jaw hangs open slightly, before he crosses his arms over his chest. That expression of shock melts into a cheeky smile.

"Honestly, now I’m thinking about what it’s gonna look like on the floor."

He starts to walk towards you, his taller frame looming over you as you tilt your head to look at him with a pout.

"On the floor, Ash? This was expensive!"

When his hands find your waist, you freeze. His fingertips dance along the silky materiel that dressed your hips, pulling you into him.

"Money can buy you a new one, sweetheart. But— I’m afraid no money can buy how much I’ve been missing you."

Your lips push to the side, now feeling slightly electric at the feeling of his gentle touch.

"Didn’t know you missed me that much."

"No?" He quips, "Well then why don’t I show you? Show you just how much I’ve been missin’ ya."

Something inside of you snaps, the twinkle in his eyes making you giddy— you reach out to him, slithering your arms around his neck to pull him into you.

When his lips land on yours you sigh, like a forty pound weight being lifted off of your shoulders. You missed the sweetness of his kiss; the taste of his lips, and tongue on yours.

You were a puzzle that had found its missing piece. Whole again.

Ashton’s hands travel down your sides, greedily wandering across each and every part of you that he had been deprived of in the last three months.

The promise ring you had gifted him right before he left was now right back to its rightful owner, scorching your flesh in all of the places you had been dying for him to touch. To see. To have again.

His hands had now found their way to your ass, making you shiver.

"Jump." He mumbles messily into your lips.

You oblige, jumping up and locking your ankles around the small of his back.

As the kiss between you grows hungry, Ashton starts to move you. He walks you past the threshold of the kitchen, and over to the island.

You had already started to feel that familiar, swirling feeling you get whenever he’s around you; let alone the feelings that came with him so effortlessly picking you up and walking around the house with you in his arms.

He releases your lips, brushing his nose against yours as he he starts to walk the both of you closer to the marble countertop.

"I’ve been waitin’ so long to take care of you properly, sweetheart— But at this rate, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it t’ the bedroom."

As he speaks, he lowers you gently onto the cool marble. You let out a giggle at his eagerness. "I don’t mind, baby. You can have me anytime, any place. I’m all yours."

His hands find your waist again, sliding you forward into his hips. He knocks his forehead against your own, before granting you a quick kiss.

"You’re all mine?" He asks again, as if your words of confirmation weren’t enough for him the first time.

"Yes, Ash. I’m all yours."

His lips find their way to your jaw, starting a trail of gentle kisses down towards the nape of your neck. He stays there for a moment, tenderly nipping at the fragile flesh.

"’Don’t know who I bribed in heaven to get sent down an angel as perfect as you— ‘Don’t know how I got so lucky..."

He kisses your neck again as your hands get lost in his lush curls. You can’t help but tug down on them, just the way he likes it.

With one final kiss at your collarbone, he pops his head back up to meet you. But as he makes his way up, something on the counter catches his eye.

His eyebrow quirks, as he reaches behind you and picks up the joint you had rolled for him.

"Now, what’s all this?" He asks, waving the pre-roll in front of your face with a mischievous smirk.

"Just a little somethin’ special," you grin, your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip, "But we can worry about that later…"

He lets out a breathy laugh, putting the joint down in it’s spot the counter and reaching back up to cup your cheeks with his blistered, earthy palms.

"You really thought of everything didn’t you— my sweet girl."

Your cheeks tinge pink, unable to control your urges as you plant another big kiss onto his soft lips.

"Welcome home, Ashton."

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[coqxettee]

- January 5th 2023-

(@coqxette) Kellen <3

- Aesthetic of the day -

How to master the Rosyblog 2013 Aesthetic

Last night I was lying in bed and scrolling through loads of old 2013, girly aesthetic pins and pictures on Pinterest. It really got me thinking about how much I love the loved the girly vibe and aesthetic back when I was just 9 😭. I didn’t have a phone but I had a tablet, and I remember seeing all of these photos on the internet and on Tumblr (that I really didn’t understand how to use at the time 🤣) I decided to spend my day like all of those IT girls did back in the day, full of girly things and doing fun, girly activities, and so I wanted to write a blog post on it 🛼🎀🧁💗☕️

Visuals in the aesthetic

(Key things that can be seen within this aesthetic)

Ariana Grande (Yours Truly era specifically)

Old school YouTubers (Think Gabi Demartino, Zoella etc…)

Victoria secret | PINK

Cath Kidston

Anything floral

Baby and soft pink tones

Aqua/Turquoise

Fairylights

Starbucks

EOS lip balm/lip smackers

Cute phone cases (That one Rillakuma one for bonus points)

Decorating your lock screen/Home Screen and organising phone to make it aesthetically pleasing

Donuts

Polaroid cameras & Polaroids

Essie nail polish

Yankee candles

The wardrobe:

The rosyblog wardrobe consisted of a traditional girly wardrobe but with certain elements that really let people identify it as “Rosy” ☕️🎀

Ariana Grande in 2013 is literally the main style inspo for ANY rosy blog outfits, her fits were always girly but comfy, and co-ordinated but casual.

Rosyblog wardrobe staples:

Floral tee’s tanks, cardigans, jackets, coats…

Burton up cardigans

Sweaters

Skater skirts

Shorts

Pea coats

Ballet flats

Bailey ugg’s (Bonus points if they are pink with the bows on the back! 😫🎀)

Skinny jeans

Tracksuit bottoms

Leggings

Tights

Cami tops

Peplum tops

Skater dresses

Strapless dresses

Headbands

Bows

Pearls

Knee high socks

🛼🎀🧁☕️💗🛼🎀🧁☕️💗🛼🎀🧁☕️💗🛼

Rosyblog Activities

A girly girl, needs girly things to do right? Here’s some things you can do to feel like your still living in 2013… because even though we’re not, it’s still the same old world ☺️🌸

Go shopping! (Go to the mall like all the IG YouTubers used to back in the day)

Wear an adorable girly outfit

Go to Victoria Secrets & Starbucks

Have a pamper day!

Paint your nails

Watch OG YouTube videos, Gabi’s room tours, old Zoella vlogs

Make a 2013 inspired Playlist. I have one on Spotify I made today, titled “Rosyblog” (My Spotify is @coqxette)

Listen to old songs from 2013 (Ariana’a Yours Truly album and Taylor Swift!)

Take 2013 inspired photos, and filter them

🎀☕️

Done!

I hope you enjoyed my aesthetic guide and let me know what others you would like me to do in the future. I will probably add to these posts as I become more educated on the styles and aesthetics in the future. After all, that’s what I am passionate about.

Love you all, have a rosy day, Kellen 🎀🌸☕️

[jonathantaylorthomas]

THIS is a first! Today The Grove outdoor mall in Los Angeles is closed ALL DAY for the first time since it open 20 years ago, for the world premier of Taylor Swift’s The Eras Tour concert movie! Taylor’s new boyfriend, football player Travis Kelce won’t be able to join her on the red carpet, so he sent a lavish $2500 floral arrangement to her at the Beverly Hills hotel where she’s staying... Our source says that he wrote a VERY gushy card to go along with the gorgeous floral display and that Taylor IS expected to meet up with him again at his next game. (BTW, we have to congratulate Rick Caruso for paying off all his Grove retail tenants for the closure – this will put his mall on the map… XOXO