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illyaana · 3 years

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Collab: Chaos's Bearsday Collab by @chaos-night

Thanks for having this Collab hun! I hope you had/have an amazing birthday <3

Tags: Aged Up! Birthday boy! Izuku Midoriya x Binaural, SFW, Fluff

Synopsis: You thought this was going to be a normal birthday with Deku - the only thing that was different is you were going to make Katsudon, pork cutlet bowls, for Deku. What you weren't prepared for was a flirty Izuku Midoriya.

Word Count: 1689

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You groaned at the sound of your blaring alarm, forcing you awake. You raised your head to meet Izuku’s chin. His hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his body even more. You pressed against the bed, pushing yourself upwards to face the sleeping face of your beloved.

You adored the sight of the defenceless hero.

His dishevelled green hair mimicked a bush in the woods - wild yet so adorable. His lips were slightly parted, allowing soft snores to escape the powerful quirk user. His small freckles glowed under the soft sunlight entering your shared room from the window, leaving you in awe. His long lashes framed his closed eyelids.

Thankfully, your alarm turned itself off - he wasn’t letting you move anymore, not with the vice grip he had around you tightening unknowingly.

You couldn’t resist the urge to run the pad of your thumb against his soft lips - it looked so soft and supple. The rest of your fingers found their place on Izuku’s cheek, enjoying the warmth only he could radiate. You smiled, looking at the sleeping Izuku subconsciously pressing his cheeks against your fingers.

This is what you believed a life spent with him would look like - and you pray so that it stays like this.

“Hey,” you say as you kiss Midoriya’s forehead, “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

Your alarm began to ring again, causing the hero beside you to groan loudly.

“Turn that thing off,” he said, placing his head on your shoulder, “We don’t need to wake up early today.”

This man… how was he the top hero?

You ruffled his hair, chuckling.

“Weren’t you the one who told me to wake you up early today?” you ask, recalling your conversation with him yesterday.

“I just wanted to spend the whole day with you, but I think we can do it from this bed, can’t we?” he said, pressing kisses on the nape of your neck.

“I think you forgot, Deku,” you say, cupping his cheeks, “You have a press conference with Bakugo and Todoroki today - you know, about your job as a hero?”

His eyelids shot open.

“Oh, shit,” he mumbled, making you laugh.

“It’s only,” you looked at the wall clock, “9 am right now. You have about 1 hour to get ready and head to the studio. That trip would take about 20 minutes.”

You smiled when you saw him visibly relax.

“Sadly,” you say, “You aren’t getting breakfast from me since I couldn’t even move one inch from the bed,” you gesture to his arms on your waist.

You kissed his forehead again, trying to wipe off the guilty smile he had on his face.

“Happy birthday, Midoriya Izuku. Now, go get ready.”

He kissed the apples of your cheeks before pressing his forehead against yours.

“Thanks, love.”

⁜

The minute you heard the door close, you got out your phone and called your mother-in-law.

“Hi!” she answered cheerfully, “You ready to do this?”

You turned the voice call into a video call, then propped your phone behind the salt shaker.

“Hopefully…” you trail off as you put on your apron, “You don’t think I’ll burn anything or cause a fire, right?”

“If you’re anything like Izuku in terms of cooking, we’ll be fine.”

You weren’t.

Pancakes, waffles - you could handle that.

But meat? It definitely was not your forte.

Izuku’s the one who handled all the savoury dishes while you were the resident taste tester.

“Don’t worry - the very person who introduced him to the savoury dish is right here, showing you each step in detail. You won’t mess up that much,” you said to yourself as you brought out the ingredients.

You laid them out in front of her, allowing her to examine them thoroughly.

“First things first,” she said, moving to her couch, “You’re wearing your apron wrongly.”

⁜

You stared at the pan filled with onions, eggs and fried pork, feeling defeated.

You were supposed to move all of that into a small bowl of rice.

You were supposed to move a bunch of slippery onions doused in sauce, a steamed omelette that looked like it was going to break into two and a pork cutlet that you slaved over - all of that, into a small bowl of rice.

“Trust me, it’s pretty easy,” Inko said, trying to calm you down, “It just looks intimidating.”

“Intimidating is one way to explain it,” you said, staring at your hard work.

“Just do it, don’t worry - you have multiple backup pork cutlets if you mess up.”

“I know, but-”

“Just do it.”

You immediately placed the toppings into the bowl of rice without any spillage.

...or so you thought.

The whole thing spilt over the sides of the pan, missing the bowl of rice entirely.

“Try again, dear,” she said smiling, “No harm in trying again.”

⁜

After 5 tries, you managed to make two perfect bowls of fresh katsudon. The smell of the fried pork cutlets wafted through the air, making you smile at your hard work.

“It looks really good, dear,” she said, smiling, “He’ll love it.”

You smile at her cheerful gaze towards you.

“You sure you don’t want to come over? It’s just a fifteen-minute drive.”

“I appreciate you asking me,” she said, sighing, “But I think you two should spend the day together. I’m pretty sure you both haven’t spent much time together since your honeymoon.”

“You sure?” you ask once again.

“I’m very, very sure,” she says, chuckling, “Now go get ready.”

You placed your phone flat on the countertop and started to set the table. As soon as you finished, Izuku came into the house, a tired expression painted on his face.

“You okay?” You say as you walk towards him.

“How rude of them to make me work on my own birthday?” he chuckled softly.

He looked to the dining table and his eyes lit up.

“Did you made Katsudon?” he asked, the tired expression he once had leaving his face.

“Yeah, I did,” you say as you help him take off his jacket.

“However,” you place his hands on his chest, “You need to go bathe.”

“What’s with everyone bullying me today?” he huffed.

“Bullying or taking care of you?”

“Well, when you put it that way…” he trailed off.

“Just go bathe,” you say, chuckling as you push him towards your room.

“Oh no,” he said as you pushed him, “My feet can’t move.”

This grown kid.

“So I’m supposed to carry you bridal style now?” you joke.

“ I did it to you, didn’t I?” he whispers in your ear.

You felt blood rush to your cheeks the minute the sentence left his lips.

This man…

“Wow, my feet work now! I’ll go bathe,” he said as he kissed your cheek.

This man is too cute for his own good.

⁜

“This…” he said, mouth stuffed with food, “This is really good!”

You smile, looking at the green-haired male scarfing down the food you made. You loved the little sparkle he had in his eyes whenever he truly enjoyed something - and to your luck, it was the food you prepared for him.

“You seriously made this by yourself?” He asked with his eyebrow raised.

“You don’t see your mom here, do you?”

“You sure you didn’t order in?” He teased again.

You kicked his leg under the table, causing him to wince in pain.

“Oh, how you wound me,” he said, faking tears.

“Serves you right for making fun of me,” you huff.

He got off of his chair and headed to the sink to wash his bowl.

“Well, to be fair,” you add, “I did video call your mom so she could teach me.”

“So I was right, then,” he said as he places his bowl in the sink and turning to face you.

“She didn’t make it, though!”

“You said you made it all by yourself, but you got my mother’s help. Hence, you lied to me,” he put his arms on the countertop.

“I didn’t lie to you,” you say, laughing, “I really made it by myself.”

Izuku was already standing in front of you, cupping your face in his hands.

“You kicked me,” he stared at you, “You kicked a tired hero.”

“Heroes don’t tease others as much as you do,” you retort.

“What is my purpose in your life but to tease you?”

“A lot of things actually,” you say, smiling at him.

“Oh? Like what?”

“First of all,” you put your hand on his chest, “Where did this flirty Izuku come from?”

“Maybe,” he put his thumb on your lower lip, “He came because I am using my birthday privileges to be a little more flirty than usual.”

You stare at his green orbs. They glimmered even under his own shadow. Its golden flecks shined just for you and you alone. The creases of his eyes curved upwards, showing you how happy he was just to be in your presence. The wild forest he calls his hair had rogue strands that tickled your cheeks. You loved how soft they were - especially after him just washing it roughly an hour ago.

Your hand on his chest began to outline the scars he cultivated through his years under All Might’s wing and his hero training back in UA. You smiled as you remembered how strong-willed he was as a boy to become a hero, and now he was - standing on the very top.

“You okay?” he asked, worried.

“I was just thinking of how much you’ve grown from back then,” you look up to his face, meeting his eyes that were staring straight at you.

“For someone who took so many notes back then, you’re really dumb,” you both chuckle.

“How are you still bullying me?” he sighed.

“Endure it, Deku,” you joke, imitating Bakugou.

You close your eyes as you pressed your forehead against his, enjoying the small moment you’re sharing with the male in front of you.

“Happy birthday, Izuku.”

“Thank you, love.”

You both shared a kiss, both bellies and hearts full.

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addisonmilfgomery · 3 years

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fic masterlist

All works are on ao3 under theprincessdiarist.

1. all of you, all of me, intertwined - (meredith/addison, rated E, 2/2) She's wearing the burgundy lipstick Meredith loves so much and she leans forward to kiss her, because she can.

2. give you my wild, give you a child - (meredith/addison, rated T, 1/1) She thinks about babies with dark red hair and sparkling green eyes and for a moment, she fucking hates biology.

3. who could ever leave me, darling? but who could stay? (you could stay.) - (meredith/addison, rated E, 1/1) She's intoxicating and clever and fucking perfect, and you realize that you cannot blame your husband for picking her over you, because if you'd had the choice you'd have done the same, over and over again.

4. sour apple baby (but you taste so sweet) - (meredith/addison, rated E, 1/1) She is used to hard, quick sex, enjoys it, really. She likes riding and talking dirty and fast-paced orgasms. She isn’t used to this, letting another person completely consume her. She fucks her girls, she makes them shake and squirm and beg. And yet, here she is in an expensive hotel room, curled into Addison’s chest, begging her to let her come.

5. the seven stages of intoxication - (meredith/addison, rated E, 10/10) She looks up and her eyes meet Addison's and suddenly they're back in her kitchen with Addison hovering above her, touching her, kissing her and Meredith could swear moments like this only existed in movies, but here they are in the middle of prom in a fucking hospital and she could spend forever just looking at Addison. (A season 2 au where Meredith falls in love with Addison.)

6. she may be the mirror of my dreams - (meredith/addison, rated E, 1/1) The lamp bathes them in a soft, golden glow and Meredith breathlessly takes in the way it reflects off of Addison's hair, highlights the peaks and curves of her body.

7. bruises on both my knees for you - (meredith/addison, rated E, 1/1) She's got desperation and adultery in her blood and if that makes her the bad guy this time, then so fucking be it.

8. made your mark on me, a golden tattoo - (meredith/addison, rated E, 1/1) It shouldn't turn her on, this stern, softly reprimanding treatment. She's a grown woman, for fuck's sake, a doctor, not some unruly kid in need of discipline. And yet, as Addison's eyes rake down her bare body, her tone rough as she speaks, Meredith feels a desperate, eager ache claw at the pit of her stomach.

9. loving her is red (burning red) - (meredith/addison, rated T, 1/1) Sometimes, Meredith wishes she could crawl inside her, make a home in the red of her blood. Maybe she is just lovesick, or maybe Addison really is a fire that will always warm her up and never burn.

10. drippin’ like honey (down the back of my throat) - (meredith/addison, rated E, 1/1) "You're always so hungry for it," she tsks, wrapping Meredith's ponytail around her hand to control her movement. "Desperate little slut."

11. rule with the velvet tongue (and my dress undone) - (meredith/addison, rated E, 1/1) She is close enough that Addison can smell her faded perfume and the tequila on her breath. She's certain Meredith can smell the whiskey on hers. What a terrible wreck of a combination, she thinks, but she cannot bring herself to care, not even a little bit.

#fanfiction #meredith x addison #meddison #greys anatomy #meredith grey #addison montgomery

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iamnotoriginalphil · 4 years

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Try Again (Cordelia Goode x Reader)

Synopsis: You’re having trouble sleeping because of a certain witch.

Words: 1940

Warnings: none

**GIF not mine**

Dappled sunlight filtered through the window, the old sycamore tree swaying in the breeze. You stood at the kitchen counter, cup of tea clasped in your hands, shawl wrapped tight around your shoulders. The old house creaked above you, the sleepy silence setting in around you like an old worn blanket. You watched a raven hop on the green grass, it’s head tilting at something you couldn’t see.

“You’re up early.”

You turned your head slightly, not able to see the blonde witch in the doorway but acknowledging her presence. You let out a long breath, a mixture of contentment and excitement settling in your belly.

A soft hand grasped your shoulder and you turned, leaning back against the counter. Cordelia, pale skin, blonde hair, and beautiful brown eyes, was looking down at you, smile on her pretty pink lips. She cupped your cheek, a thumb running over the dark circle under your eye.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Your voice was soft, almost a whisper. She lent forwards, looking in your eyes, brushing your hair behind your ear. You shivered, tilting your chin up to give her a better look, to better gauge your state.

“Nightmares?” she asked. You shook your head.

“Too many thoughts.”

Which was mostly true. Too many thoughts were clouding your brain, making sleep an impossible fantasy, much like the thoughts running through your head. Images of Cordelia hadn’t been leaving your mind all night. Images of her in the warm sunlight, of her with her hands buried in soil in the greenhouse, of her sitting at her desk with that welcoming smile on her face. You hadn’t been able to get rid of them. It was like a sweet kind of torture,

“Would you like the day off to catch up on your sleep?” she asked, her thumb still running over the dark circle.

“I’d rather keep busy,” you replied.

“I could use some help in the greenhouse,” she said, “that should keep you busy.”

She offered you a smile and despite the way your stomach clenched you smiled in return.

“Is there any more of this?” Her fingertips brushed against your knuckles and you looked down at the mug in your hands.

“In the teapot,” you said.

She turned away from you, her skirt swirling around her calves. With graceful actions you’d never quite managed to emulate she reached up to the cupboard above her head. She poured herself a cup of the tea, steam swirling up around her hands. You turned away from her, looking out the window again. The raven was still on the lawn, staring through the window at you.

“I see Edgar is here.” Cordelia’s arm brushed against yours as she stepped up to the window.

“Edgar?” You kept your eyes trained on the bird.

“He’s here every morning. I thought I should give him a name,” she said, “I know it’s cliched but it made me smile.”

“No I like it,” you said hurriedly. You glanced up at her to find her already smiling at you. She nudged you with her elbow.

“I’m going to go get started. You might want to get dressed.”

And just like that she was gone in a waft of perfume that curled around you. You took a shuddering breath in before steeling yourself. You poured the rest of your tea down the drain and left the cup in the sink.

When you entered the greenhouse half an hour later Cordelia had her back to you, her nose buried in a bud of a flower. You coughed. She turned, a smile already there to answer your questioning look. A dark swath of dirt was on her cheek, clinging to her peachy skin.

“Are any of the girls up yet?” she asked.

“I thought I heard Zoe stirring and Mallory was looking for a book when I passed by. I think Queenie might have it,” you replied with a small smile.

“Did you tell her that?” she asked, quirking an amused eyebrow at you.

“I suggested she ask the other girls,” you replied with a shrug.

She chuckled, turning back to her work. You came up beside her, watching her sure hands repot the flower in one of the painted ceramic planters gifted by one of the girls. You felt your face flush at the way her fingers curled around the roots of the flower, protecting it with her cupped hand.

“There are some vials over there,” she said, vaguely gesturing to one of the side benches, “can you bring all of them over here?”

It took a couple of trips but you managed to bring the thirty or so vials to the bench she was working at. Her fingers were plucking leaves from one of the plants, crushing them between thumb and forefinger to release the scent into the air. She took your hand as it released the final vials, her thumb running over the skin of the back of your hand.

“Thank you for the help,” she said.

“Anything for you.”

Her answering smile was as bright as the sun, filling you with just as much warmth.

“I don’t know what I’ve done to earn so much loyalty,” she said.

“You’re the Supreme,” you replied, your cheeks growing warm under her scrutiny.

“Plenty if people wouldn’t do anything for their Supreme,” she said, “many wouldn’t do anything for my mother.”

“You’re not your mother,” you replied.

“I should hope not.” She laughed, tipping her head back. You gave her a hesitant smile. She pressed your palm to her cheek. Your thumb, without thought, brushed the dirt from her skin. Her eyes sparkled and a hint of pink tinged the skin under your hand.

“What thoughts were keeping you up?” she asked.

“They’re not important.” You shook your head, your hand slipping from her face. Her fingers twitched but she let you take a step back.

“I’d like to help. If you’d let me,” she said.

Her face was a picture of earnestness. Your eyes skittered down, not wanting her to see in your eyes the exact thoughts that were that kept you up at night. The way that her room being close enough to yours that you could hear her in the evenings made you burn from the inside out. The way that with a brush of her fingers she could turn you breathless. The way you were panting for praise from her lips.

The way you dreamt about kissing those lips.

“What did you need help with?” you asked instead of giving her a proper response.

You looked down, playing with a fallen petal, velvet against your skin. You squeezed it, feeling the give against your fingers, the way your skin grew damp.

You didn’t hear Cordelia walk to your side of the bench but when her fingers circled your wrist you took a sharp inhalation of breath. The petal fell from your fingers, fluttering to the floor. You looked up into her brown eyes, feeling your mouth fall open. You bit down on your lower lip. Her eyes darkened.

“I want to help,” she murmured.

You grasped her face, pulling her to you. Your lips crashed into hers, harsh and demanding. She froze and you pushed her away before fleeing from the greenhouse.

You stayed locked in your room for the rest of the day, watching as the sun rose then fell, the light fading around you sitting on the bed, staring out the window. You could hear the girls through the walls, laughing, talking, shouting. But none were the one woman who was stuck in your brain.

You fell back, staring up at the canopy above your bed. Running through your head were a series of beratements, telling you everything you had done wrong since arriving at the Academy. You already had half a plan to leave this place to keep your shame buried deep inside.

You didn’t hear the knock on your door, your thoughts too loud to be able to hear anything but your heart beating hard in your ears. You missed the door creaking open and soft footfalls making their way towards you.

A soft hand brushed the hair back from your face and your eyes snapped open. You hurried to sit up, your hands scrabbling on the comforter. You pushed yourself back from the woman standing before your bed. She sat, as elegant as always, blonde hair grey in the moonlight.

“Cordelia,” you breathed, wiping a tear from your face, “what are you doing here?”

“I think we have some talking to do,” she said, a sad smile on her face.

“We can just forget about it. It’s fine. In fact I’d prefer if we did. We never have to talk about this ever,” you said, a desperation clinging to you tight. If everyone involved could just forget about it then it would be like nothing had happened.

“I would like to talk about it,” she said, putting a stop to all the arguments on your tongue.

You averted your eyes from her, closing your mouth, giving her the option to continue.

“You caught me by surprise earlier,” she said, “I wish you hadn’t.”

It was like you’d been doused in a bath of cold water, your body going numb. You didn’t need her telling you she didn’t feel the same way. It was obvious enough to you. It would have been better if she had allowed you to ignore it. You jerked back from her.

“If I’d been more prepared I could have kissed you back the way I wanted to,” she said.

You dragged your eyes up to her. She was looking at you with an intensity you were unused to. Your breath shuddered in your lungs, stopping as one of her hands reached out to you. She cupped your cheek but you remained frozen, back pressed against the headboard.

“Can I try again?” she asked.

“I don’t know what you want. I don’t understand.” You shook your head, your eyes slipping away from her again.

“I have feelings for you. More than that, I’ve fallen in love with you. I hoped you felt the same way but I wasn’t willing to say anything until you did. I didn’t want my position, my power, to influence you,” she said.

“So you let me think you had no feelings for me?” you asked.

“I tried to show you in my own way,” she said, “but I hoped you’d come talk to me.”

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you replied.

She gave a short dry chuckle. Looking up, you saw there was no humour in her. Her thumb ran over the apple of your cheek.

“It looks that in trying to look after each other all we’ve managed to do is hurt each other,” she said.

“You can try again.”

A smile broke out on her face. She drew closer, hovering a hair 's breadth away from your lips, her breath ghosting over your skin. You shivered, closing your eyes.

Her lips were soft against yours, but sure. You surged forward, wrapping your arms around her neck, pressing yourself to her, any semblance of self control gone. She kissed you deeper, hungrier, consuming you. Her hand pressed to the small of your back, keeping you close to her.

She pulled back, pressing her forehead to yours. Her eyes were closed and her breathing heavy but her lips were smiling.

“How about you try again?” you murmured.

“Was it not good enough for you?” she asked, her eyes blinking open.

“Much too short,” you replied.

A smile broke over her face before you kissed her again.

#Cordelia goode #Cordelia Goode imagine #Sarah Paulson imagine #Cordelia Goode x reader #sarah paulson

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thatesqcrush · 3 years

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The Nanny, Part 3.

Bryan Kneef x Reader. Follow-up to part two. You can read part one here. Warnings: NSFW - smut, spanking, oral, squirting, daddy kink, p in v sex, masturbation (m & f), language. Also CW: physical violence (smack across the face). WC: 6.5K

S/O: @beccabarba for beta'ing not 1 but 2 versions of this story and for words of encouragement/support.

If you had a nickel for the amount of times you and Bryan each said “this can’t happen again”, you wouldn’t even need to be a nanny anymore. Once again, you found yourself tangled in Bryan’s sheets in post-coital bliss.

You were laying on your side, with your head propped on your hand. “That’s one hell of a way to wake up.” You murmured, to which Bryan let out a low chuckle.

“You’re welcome.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sometimes I swear that ego of yours is bigger than that cock of yours.”

“You fucking love it.” Bryan replied as he covered his body with yours and rolled, so he was on top of you. He used his knee to part your legs, not that they needed much from his part to open wide.

Your eyes searched his green eyes, which were sparkling. You wrapped a hand around his sweat slicked neck, and pulled him down for a kiss. The kiss started softly, but quickly ramped up in intensity. A low rumble emanated from his chest as he started rocking his hips into yours. You felt his cock, beginning to harden once more and your arousal shot through you like lightening.

Bryan’s lips found purchase on your neck and you let out a gasp as he sucked a mark into your skin, leaving a bruise. You let out a throaty moan as he followed with his teeth grazing the bruised skin before soothing the spot with his warm, wet tongue.

Your nipples were rock solid, despite his warm body on top of you. You elongated your neck to give him further access to your neck when your eyes caught the time on his clock.

“Shit I should go, the kids will be up soon for school!”

Bryan pressed a kiss on your lips before giving your ass a sharp smack. “Okay.”

You swung off Bryan and grabbed your clothes that were crumpled in the corner of the room. You playfully tossed your ruined panties to Bryan before you slipped on your sleep shorts and t-shirt. “I can’t find my panties.” You stated out loud, really to yourself more than to Bryan.

Bryan let out a low whistle and when you turned to him, you saw he had them hanging off the tip of his index finger. You smirked and you walked over to him. You reached to grab them and he pulled them back, balling them up in his fist.

“Fine, keep them. May they bring you fond memories.” You poked his chest with your finger. “Since this is the last time.”

Bryan’s gaze changed and his eyes hardened. He reached for you, and pulled you close to him with a strong arm. “Right.”

You leaned up to kiss him, and the kiss was quick and brief, as he pulled away. You opened your mouth to say something but found yourself unable to say anything. So instead, you spun on your heels and made your way out. You quietly shut the door behind you and when you turned around, you nearly bumped into Jasper. He rubbed his eyes before looking at you curiously. “Ms. Y/N, what were you doing in my dad’s room?”

“Jasper! Um.” You began, your cheeks burning, racking your brain for something to say to the seven year old. “I had to help your dad with something. It’s still early, why don’t you go back to bed and I’ll come get you when it’s time for breakfast. How about chocolate chip pancakes?”

Jasper yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Okay.” You sighed inwardly and walked Jasper down the hall back to his room.

Back in your room, you showered and freshened up. You were still tingly all over from sleeping with Bryan earlier. Part of you wondered if it was really the last time and if you thought about it too much, an uncomfortable feeling gnawed at your insides.

Deep down though, you knew, it wasn’t.

***

Later that evening, you settled into bed with your tablet, hoping that a good book would quiet your mind from other thoughts. You pulled the comforter up to your waist and turned all but one light off. Before opening your latest read, you decided to check your email.

“Junk, junk, junk.” You murmured to yourself as you went through your inbox. There was one email that caught your eye.

It was from your cousin in New York who was getting married in less than a month. You were a bridesmaid and it was an invitation to her bachelorette festivities in The Hamptons.

You made a mental note to ask Bryan about time off to attend in the morning.

***

“Where are you going again?” Bryan asked as he followed you into the kitchen. You pulled a carafe of orange juice from the fridge as well as some cut-up fruit. You used your foot to shut the fridge door and set everything on the marbled breakfast bar.

You watched Bryan as walked by, inwardly groaning. He was shirtless, in casual sleep shorts. Your eyes raked over his muscular chest, knowing how good it felt to grip when you rode him. How the smattering of salt and pepper chest hair felt against your nipples. How he always kept it trim and it made a perfect trail to…

“The Hamptons.” You replied, shaking your head out of its reverie. “She rented a beach house for the weekend and we’re just basically going to drink and work on our tans.”

“Mmm.” Bryan reached for a glass and made his way towards you. Your breath hitched as he approached you from behind. You could feel his breath hot on your neck as he reached past you for the carafe of orange juice.

“I should be so jealous.”

You tensed, straightening your back. “How so?” you squeaked.

You felt Bryan push your hair off your neck and felt his beard tickle your skin. “I’d love to see you in a bathing suit.”

You laughed and turned around. Your heart raced as you were almost nose to nose with the litigator. “Bryan, you’ve seen me naked. I have had your dick in my mouth.”

Bryan smirked. “It’s different.” He brought the carafe to his mouth and drank it. You watched as his Adam's apple bobbed in his neck and all you wanted to do in that moment was to hop on the counter and let him have his way from you. Bryan set the orange juice down and licked his lips. Your cunt clenched around nothing and you were certain your face was flushing.

“Oh.”

Bryan winked and left, but not before grabbing a piece of melon and plucking it into his mouth.

***

Time flew and soon it was the morning of when you were to head out to the East Coast.

“Jasper, Sandrine, be on your best behavior this weekend.” You said, crouching between the two tow headed children. “Try not to give your dad a hard time.” Please.” you added after a beat.

“We won’t.” Sandrine replied. “Promise.”

Jasper nodded eagerly. “Bring us a souvenir?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

“Of course!” You replied. You heard a car honk outside. You stood and ruffled Jasper’s hair. You looked past him, to Bryan. “That must be my ride.”

“Really should have let me drive you.” Bryan gruffed.

You smiled. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll only be gone for the weekend. I’ll be back Sunday night. Not even a two hour flight.”

“Let me at least walk you out and help you with your luggage.”

You didn’t miss how his hand cradled your lower back as he walked you out. After your luggage was put in the trunk, Bryan handed the driver some cash, telling him to keep the change. Before you got in the car, Bryan surprised you by kissing you. “You’ll be missed.”

The two of you were completely unaware of four little eyes watching from behind the window adjacent to the door.

***

Bryan was sure you were having a great time. He didn’t want to seem overbearing but he was curious as to how you were doing. He quickly learned how much of a good time you were having through your instagram since you followed each other. He smiled at the pictures of you and your cousins. It looked like you were having a great time. Bryan couldn't help but admit that his feelings for you were becoming more.

You were dancing with your cousin and her friends at a dive bar. You were in a bikini top and shorts, rolled at the waist but undone, around a bonfire. Random shots of you hugging people. There was one photo in particular he wasn’t wild about but he was sure it was nothing more - you were in the middle of the shot, sandwiched between who he deduced was your cousin and some young blond man. The blond wrapped his arm around your waist and you were smiling.

There were also some interesting text messages. One was a photo of you in your suit, as he requested, and then there was one of you nude, from the neck below.

You were back in your room, after having one too many drinks. You changed your clothes and climbed into bed. A thought occurred to you - your roommate - a friend of your cousins - was off hooking up with some random person - you could call Bryan and have a little phone sex. You climbed into bed and reached for your phone.

You pouted as your call went to voicemail. “Hi Bryan - oh, I’m sorry.” You slurred. “I mean daddy. Right? You like it when I call you that right? I miss you so much. I wish you were here with me. I am so lonely and so fucking wet for you.” Your hands drifted down to the middle of your legs and you began to touch yourself. You continued to play with yourself while talking into the phone. “It’s never off the table - you and I. I am always yours for the taking.”

You began to rub yourself more quickly, feeling the coil inside of you about to burst. “Oh yes, daddy! Fuck!”

As you came down, your phone beeped. You looked back at the phone. It was dead.

You threw your head back onto the pillow, irritated. You sat up and reached for your charger and plugged it in. As you waited for the phone to charge, your eyes became heavy and soon you were asleep.

***

Meanwhile in Chicago, Bryan sat in his office, trying to finish a brief. The kids were asleep in their rooms. He looked at the clock, and wondered if you were still awake. He picked up his phone and was about to call you, when he changed his mind and decided to pull up the picture of you naked once more. Bryan’s cock twitched and his thumb trailed over you. He stood and lowered his pants and boxers, so they were around his ankles. His cock was hard and weeping. He stroked himself as his mind drifted back to the last time he fucked you. He remembered how your body swayed from the pull of his hands drawing you back on his cock.

He stroked himself rhythmically, squeezing at the base with every downstroke. Bryan let his thumb glide across the head of his cock, smearing pre-cum. Bryan released himself and spit into his hand before resuming his movements, now stroking faster. Bryan stared at the picture of you and let out a moan, imagining it was you sucking and stroking him instead. He recalled how wet you were, how good your pussy felt wrapped around his cock, taking him deep.

Bryan’s balls began to feel heavy and that familiar coil in his gut began to emerge, signaling his need for release. He began to stroke himself feverishly, working faster and faster. He gripped his phone hard before releasing it knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. Bryan’s hips jerk forward as cum pumped out in hot and fast spurts all over his fist. He attempted to make it last by continuing to stroke himself languidly, squeezing out every last bit of cum. With a grunt and shuddering sigh, Bryan felt incredible relief. Bryan tried to bring his labored breathing back to normal so that he could clean himself up. He was so distracted while cleaning up, he didn’t see the incoming missed call from you, or your voicemail.

***

The next morning, you woke up to a few texts from Bryan double checking when your flight came in. You responded and inquired how the kids were in your absence. ‘Fine.’

If you were paranoid, you would have felt uncomfortable at his short reply. You showered and since it was still warm out in New York, chose a sundress and a cardigan.

You said goodbye to your cousin and her friends, and took a cab to the airport. You made sure to stop at the giftshop to pick up some souvenirs for Sandrine and Jasper. You found a chintzy cigar ashtray emblazoned with I “heart” NY and picked that up for Bryan.

It was to your surprise that you found Bryan waiting at arrivals with Jasper and Sandrine. You laughed at the sign Jasper held with your name. “Did you all miss me?” You asked.

“Dad doesn’t make the pancakes like you make them.” Sandrine replied, with a roll of her eyes as you all walked to the parking lot.

“I am sure he did just fine.” You replied.

Bryan grunted in response and you looked his way, your brow arched. After waiting a beat and realizing he wasn’t going to say anything further, you turned your attention back to the children.

“Well, I missed you all tons. It was not the same without you three.” You replied as Sandrine took your hand.

“You sure looked like you were having fun.” Bryan muttered under his breath as you all approached his car. Bryan took your bag and unceremoniously dropped it into the trunk. While you knew Bryan had a temper - you couldn’t chalk what you did to upset him. ‘Maybe just work bullshit.’ you thought to yourself as you got in the car.

***

Dinner that night was takeout - Chinese - and you all sat around the coffee table, very informally as a movie played. Bryan sat on the couch, sipping his drink and picking at dinner. After the last fortune cookie was read, Bryan cleaned up and you got the kids ready for bed.

You tucked the kids for the night and then made way to find Bryan. He was in his study, his back to you as he looked out the window. Before you could even announce your presence, he beckoned you in.

Still looking outside the window, Bryan took a long sip of his drink. “You had a lot of fun this weekend, didn’t you?”

“I did.” You admitted, rather slowly as you approached him from behind. “Is there some kind of a problem?”

“You were naughty. I saw the pictures, prancing around in that little bikini, flaunting those tits. I saw how that guy had his arm wrapped around you.”

“Him?” You exclaimed before letting out a sardonic chuckle. “He grabbed my ass and I smacked him. Besides,” you continued, “what does it matter? It’s not like I am your girlfriend. What? Are you pissed you had to deal with your children for once on a whole given weekend?”

“Excuse me?” Bryan turned to face you. “What did you say?”

You crossed your arms, which pushed your tits further up in the sundress you still wore.

“You heard me.” You challenged, your chin jutted upwards in defiance.

“I heard that little message you left me too.”

You stared at him confusedly for a minute and then your eyes widened in realization.

Bryan took out his cellphone and pressed play on the voicemail message that you didn’t recall leaving. Your mouth dropped as you heard yourself masturbating and then coming.

Bryan tossed his phone onto the desk followed by the glass, which left the sound of a plink. He stalked you with long strides and when you blinked, he materialized in front of you. You looked up at him, and he could see the fire in your eyes.

Bryan pulled you to him, and his hands were immediately on your ass, squeezing and groping. Your hands cupped his cheeks as you pressed your lips to his, kissing him. Your kiss was desperate and your cunt ached with need.

He tilted your neck, exposing the slope and he latched his mouth on your sweet spot. He sucked a mark into your skin and then used his teeth to scrape the wounded area, causing you to hiss.

There was a couch in the study and normally you would find Bryan there, asleep when he’s worked too late. Now instead, he was sitting, with your bottom-half draped over his lap.

Bryan flipped your sundress up, delighted to find you wearing a thong. Your breath hitched as his hands gently caressed your exposed flesh and then pulled the back of your thong up, so it disappeared more between your cheeks. His other hand dipped to your pussy, feeling how hot, wet and needy you were.

“Such a fucking tease. We agreed we weren’t going to do anything else, did we not?”

His fingers dipped slightly into your folds, teasing.

“I’m a tease? Please, you loved it.” You retorted before letting out a moan.

“Watch that mouth.” Bryan growled as he removed his hand from your already soaking cunt, and moved it to your hair where he gave a firm tug. “You’re going to get spanked for that little comment.” Bryan grabbed a handful of flesh and shook it.

His tone took a deeper, darker, authoritarian tone. “Count.”

The first spank was light, almost like a test spank. Still, you couldn’t help yourself. “You call that a spank? C’mon, if you’re going to spank me, make it worth my while.”

A rumble emanated deep and low from Bryan and you tensed, bracing yourself for the subsequent spank. His heavy hand landed on your skin, sharp and hot, the sound nearly reverberating in the otherwise quiet space. You let out a gasp as you jolted slightly off of him.

“That better?” Bryan asked. Your skin was tingling and you found yourself unable to formulate words. Another smack landed, this time on the opposite cheek, sending a shot of arousal through your core. One of his hands soothed a reddened cheek while the other twisted into your hair and tugged harshly. “Well? Answer me.”

Your eyes pricked with tears; the pain mixed with your arousal - it hurt, but in a good way and you wanted more. “Yes.”

“Adding another ten. Keep it up and I’ll add another ten. Right now we are at twenty. Count.”

You took a deep breath as Bryan’s hand came down hard on your ass once more.

“One.” The spank that followed was delivered just as harshly, maybe even more so.

“Two.”

The sting stuck around a few seconds longer and your skin began to feel more and more sensitive. Your pussy throbbed and you knew if Bryan were to touch you, you would fall apart.

As if reading your mind, you felt Bryan’s hands at the sides of your panties. He nimbly removed them, and lowered them down to the widest part of your thighs, the material stretching. The air of the room caressed your folds and Bryan hummed pleasantly. His fingers skimmed your cunt, which was hot and wet. Over and over, Bryan teasingly played with your cunt - stroking inside and out. His fingers were coated in your juices. You were whimpering, mewling under your breath softly, but you were stuck there on his lap. Your breath was heavy, your heart was pounding in tandem with the throb of your pussy.

“Daddy, oh fuck, please.” You begged. A tear dripped down your cheek. “I want to come! Please!”

You tried to squirm, desperate for some kind of friction, but Bryan just held you there.

“Good girls get to come. You’re my dirty little slut. Tell me do you think of me often when you touch yourself?

“Yes.” You whimpered. “All the time.”

The flat of his palm was against your skin, delivering yet another controlled and calculated spank. Over and over again, alternating sides of your cheeks while you counted. By the time the final spank was delivered, the skin of your ass was red and hot. You took another deep breath as Bryan delivered the final spank – that final spank was the hardest spank you’d managed yet. Your whole body tensed for a moment as the pain radiated around you, more tears falling.

Bryan’s cock was painfully hard, aching against you. All in that moment was him inside of you, to quell that ache that he had created. Instead, he stood, shifting you back onto the couch so that you laid flat.

“Don’t move.” His voice was firm and you nodded. Your eyes tracked him as he walked out of the study. Your mind began to drift to where he was going. Was he going to leave you there? Was this some kind of kinky test?

Before your mind could drift any further, Bryan was back. He sat next to you and you heard the sound of a lid being unscrewed. You jumped slightly as you felt something - a cream, an ointment - you weren’t sure - being applied to your skin.

“It’s a salve with comfrey.” Bryan murmured. “You did so well.”

When he was done, your panties were tugged back up and your dress smoothed down. You winced as you sat up. Your face and chest were flushed and Bryan could see the outline of your hard nipples. You were doe-eyed, your mouth slightly parted.

Bryan rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip, in a gentle almost caressing way. You darted your tongue out and nipped the fatty pad of his thumb. Bryan took a deep inhalation and your eyes drifted to his cock, which was still pressing against the front of his pants.

Bryan watched as you undid the straps of your dress, one shoulder at a time, and then shimmying it down, exposing your breasts.

You reached down to the button of his pants but Bryan caught your wrists instead.

“Not now. Later.” Bryan stood and then turned to help you stand. As much as he did want to fuck you, he wanted the satisfaction of denying you. Instead he pulled your straps back up. “You need to rest for what I have in store for later. Now what do you say for earlier? Did you learn your lesson?”

You nodded and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Maybe.”

Bryan leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Such a slut for daddy’s cock.” And with that he pinched your nipple hard, causing you to cry out once more.

***

The following day and the rest of the week that followed, Bryan made no further move other than little kisses and touches here and there. By the time the end of the week rolled around, you felt as if every nerve ending was electrified, like a ticking bomb waiting to detonate. You were so thrilled that the kids were going to their mother’s for the weekend. You would finally be alone with Bryan, with no interruptions.

As you hugged the children goodbye, Constance glared at you as she leaned against her car. The driver of Constance’s car came around and picked up the children’s overnight bags and loaded them into the trunk.

You waved goodbye and as you spun on your heels to go back inside, you heard your name called.

Constance crossed her arms. Her gaze was hidden by her oversized sunglasses. “May I have a word with you?”

Your heart was in your throat and you could feel the bile in your throat rise.

“Sure.” You replied weakly. “Inside, so as to not disturb the children.”

Constance pushed past you and into her former home, whipping her long blonde hair in your face. The sound of her heels echoed throughout. You followed her, feeling as if you were walking in molasses. She spun around, while removing her sunglasses. The tension was thick - easily cut through with a knife.

“The children told me they saw you and Bryan kissing.”

You swallowed hard. You opened your mouth, but she raised a finger at you, shushing you.

“And while the children don’t have an issue with it, I do. And don’t think for a minute that Bryan loves you. I see through you. You’re nothing more than the hired help, someone who can be easily replaced. I have made sure to protect my assets and I will not have some two bit tramp take what is rightfully mine.” And before you could even further digest what she said, Constance delivered a sharp smack across your face.

You cried out, covering your face from any other infliction. To add insult to injury, when Constance slapped you, the stones of her many rings were on the inside of her palm, which cut your face. Your face grew hot, matching the heat that emanated from your bruised cheek.

You watched through tears as Connie stormed off and got into the back of her car. You continued to watch until the car drove off. You went over to the hallway mirror, checking your face. You gingerly touched your cheek, wincing as you did so. And it was only then, you allowed yourself to cry.

***

Hours later, Bryan came home from the office; you were nowhere to be found. He searched his home and then your apartment. Your car was still parked, so he knew you couldn’t have gone far.

When he did find you, he found you sitting at the pool edge, with a pack of peas on your face. Your eyes were puffy, streaks of mascara had dripped down your face and dried.

You couldn’t bear to look at him, fearing you would burst into tears once more. So when he crouched down next to you, you instead chose to look into the pool’s reflection, explaining what had happened.

“Come.” Bryan responded, offering his hand to you. You sighed and stood, taking his hand into yours. Bryan led you to the bathroom, where he cleaned your face and applied the same salve on your cheek as he did on your rear, just days prior.

Bryan offered dinner, but you refused, just wanting to go to bed. Bryan pressed a kiss to your forehead before excusing himself to make a call. As you reached the door to your apartment, you could hear Bryan yelling on the phone. And fresh tears fell once more.

***

You woke up the next morning, your head pounding. You showered and tied your hair into a loose wet braid. You found Bryan in the kitchen, plating food from containers. He gave you a small smile as you padded in.

“You know I can’t cook for shit.” Bryan apologized. “Coffee?”

You shook your head. “In a minute. I just wanted to say about last night --”

Bryan came up to you and placed a finger over your lips. “Nothing. It wasn’t your fault. It was Connie’s.” Even hearing her name made you wince.

To your surprise, Bryan enveloped you in a hug and you nuzzled against his chest, taking in how warm and solid he was. The embrace was comforting and as his fingers trailed your spine, you felt yourself grow warm in other places. Gently, you pulled away from him and looked up at him. Constance’s words reverberated in your head. Instead you decided to lean into it. If you were going to get smacked, then at least make it worth it. “You know, you were going to make good on that promise to me…”

Bryan raised a brow. “Are you sure? Look, last night was a lot --”

You shook your head as you repeated the words from your voicemail. “I’m yours for the taking… daddy.”

Bryan took a deep breath and something in his whole demeanor changed as you called him that. He cupped your face and pulled you in for a searing kiss. His tongue rolled against yours, exploring your mouth. You could taste the lingering coffee on him and he could taste the minty remnants of your mouth. You reached down and rubbed the front of his pants, feeling his cock harden beneath your touch. Bryan took the bottom of your lip and gave it a nip.

***

In all of the places you imagined having sex with Bryan, the middle of his open concept kitchen was not one of them. You were on your back, on the rug that usually was by the sink. Bryan loomed over you. You eyed the large tent in his pants and licked your lips hungrily. Bryan climbed over you, covering your body with his. His hands threaded in your hair as he slanted his mouth over yours. Your legs wrapped around his hips, interlocking at the ankles. As the two of you kissed, he rutted against you. Your hands ran down his sides, using your nails to scrape his sides.

Bryan broke the kiss and sat back on his haunches, before reaching for the hem of his shirt and removing it over his head. You admired his broad chest, with the smattering of greying chest hair that you loved so much. Your eyes followed the trail down to where it disappeared under the waistband of his pants. You leaned up slightly and removed your top before reaching back to unclasp your bra, freeing your aching breasts.

Bryan’s mouth latched onto a nipple immediately, swirling his tongue over the pebbled flesh. You arched slightly into his mouth as his teeth gently scraped over the sensitive and heated flesh. One hand wrapped into his hair, and the other cupped your other breast. You tugged on his hair so he could equally lavish the other breast. He suckled hard on your tit, leaving a purple mark.

“Oh yes, Bryan.” You moaned. You were already so wet and ready for more. You raised your hips, desperate for some friction. Bryan moved further down your body, leaving a trail of wet kisses along the valley of your breasts. His tongue laved on and over your belly button, causing your muscles to quiver. He finally made way down to just above your pelvic region where he made quick work of your pants and underwear, removing them simultaneously. Bryan tossed your clothes carelessly to the floor. You spread your legs, but he spread them further, hooking his arms under your thighs and bringing your sweet cunt to his mouth. He nuzzled your pussy, taking a deep inhalation of your scent. His hot breath on your cunt made you so eager in anticipation as to what was to come. You propped yourself up on your elbows and let out a giggle as Bryan gave you a wink before he dipped his head.

You let out an obscene moan and threw your head back as he flattened his tongue and licked a broad stripe up. The warm, wet muscle of his tongue circled your clit before his lips closed around it, suckling hard. You ground and rocked against his mouth, as he worked you closer and closer to orgasm. The enthusiastic sounds Bryan made as he ate you out only further served to heighten your arousal. Bryan would sporadically pause to lavish bites on your thighs but then would dive in, pushing his tongue inside of you as deep as possible.

“I’m going to come!” You cried out, feeling your orgasm about to crest. Bryan removed his mouth from you and you let out a whine at the denial. “Bryan!”

Bryan responded by sliding two of his thick fingers inside of you, using his thumb to roughly rub your clit. “You’ll come sweetheart. Don’t you worry. But you know what I want and I want you to give it to me.” His fingers crooked in a come hither motion towards your navel and a different kind of pressure began to quickly build. You grasped at the floor, your legs trembling. The pressure burst and your back arched in a bow as you came hard, squirting all over Bryan and the rug.

You barely had a chance to come down as Bryan eased out his fingers briefly and then thrusted three fingers deep inside of you, to the knuckles. “Fuck!”

“Give daddy another one sweetheart. You earned it.” Bryan commanded. His mouth returned to your clit, abusing and torturing it as his fingers began to jackhammer into you. You squeezed your eyes tightly, feeling the pressure build again.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna… oh God!” You wailed as Bryan removed his mouth and rubbed your clit with the flat of his palm rapidly. Warm wetness released from you as you squirted again.

“God I wish you could see how beautiful you are when you come for daddy.” Bryan purred as he licked your pussy juices off your thighs.

Your breath was shallow, your body trembling as Bryan stood to make removal of the rest of his clothes. His monstrously sized cock stood proudly, the meaty veins glistening with arousal. Bryan gave himself a few pumps. You widened your legs and Bryan shook his head. “All fours.”

You did as told, turning over on wobbly legs and positioning yourself on all fours.

You felt him line up with your entrance and you pushed back eagerly. His hands ran over your hips and then ass, grabbing the flesh. Teasingly, Bryan slipped the fat head of his cock inside you and then slipped out. He did it a few times and you let out an annoyed whine and pushed back once more.

Bryan pushed inside of you deeply in one smooth thrust, your cunt gripping him tightly once he was fully seated. Bryan groaned, deep and throaty, relishing in how your pussy took him so well. If he could have seen your face, he would have seen the dreamy smile on your face. Bryan’s cock was perfect and no one fucked you as good as he did. Bryan withdrew and then snapped his hips against the round of your ass, tearing a moan from you. Bryan grabbed the flesh of your hips and began to thrust in and out of you, setting a brutal and fast pace.

“Oh fuck yes daddy, give it to me!” You cried out, dropping your head. Your hair fell over your face, swaying in tandem with his thrusts.

“That’s it, take daddy’s cock.” Bryan growled as he placed a hand on the small of your back and leaned back slightly, watching as his cock, covered in your juices, disappeared in and out of you.

The sounds of obscene moans and deep, throaty groans filled the room as Bryan fucked you mercilessly. The sex was raw, primal and animalistic. Bryan withdrew and pulled you into standing position. You were about to question him, when he propped you on the table. He threw your legs over his shoulders and slid his cock back into you.

“Fuck, yes, oh Jesus fuck, give it to me! That’s it! Harder! Deeper!”

The table creaked and the table moved slightly as Bryan began to pick up the pace, his cock slamming inside of you over and over again. You could feel how his balls slapped against your cunt.

“Yes! Yes! Like that!” You panted. Bryan turned his head to one of your legs and licked the salt off your skin.

“Gonna come for me?” Bryan growled. “Gonna cream on my cock?”

“Yes, yes! Gonna make me come!” You cried out. Bryan dropped over you and a hand wrapped around your neck. Bryan squeezed and the air around you became thin. Bryan continued to fuck into you and you reached down to rub your clit.

Your walls began to tighten and flutter around Bryan’s length. “That’s it, give it to daddy.” He purred. “Let me feel you come and then I’ll fill you up real good.”

Bryan let go of your throat and moved to rub your clit as well, pushing your fingers away. You gasped, your lungs burning as air rushed in.

You came hard, your cunt squirting. You squeezed your eyes so hard that when you opened them, you saw floaters in your vision. Your cunt clamped on his cock again and you wailed again. “Bryan! Bryan! Oh my God!”

Bryan suddenly withdrew and he watched with obscene pride as you squirted again all over the table and floor.

“That’s right, make a mess for daddy.” Bryan growled. He then pushed you back down on the table, lifting your hips ever so slightly. He easily slid his cock inside of you once more and pounded into you erratically, chasing his own release. Bryan let out a deep groan, stiffening as he came, shooting his creamy hot load into you.

Bryan slumped over you and let out a sigh of content. You turned and pressed a kiss along his sweaty bearded cheek.

He withdrew and you let out a whine, already missing the feel of him inside of you. Bryan bent your legs to the knee and pulled your legs apart, his eyes focused on your pussy. “So full.” Bryan replied, again with pride.

You used the opportunity to squeeze some of your muscles, forcing some of his come out of you. Bryan let out a groan watching it drip out of you and onto the floor. He scooped some of his come that dripped out of you and slid his fingers inside of you, effectively fucking the cum back into you. You let out a shiver in response. Bryan slid his fingers out of you and sucked them clean before moving to stand you up.

You wrapped your arms around him, your mind still whirling. You were never going to be able to look at mealtime the same way again. “That was amazing.”

Bryan pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “And we have the whole weekend to ourselves.” He murmured and you hummed contentedly.

“I suppose we should clean this mess.” You stated, feeling yourself blush, despite the fact that you were both standing fully nude in his otherwise, pristine, white kitchen.

Bryan ran his hands through his hair, nodding. He then spoke again. “Don’t worry about Constance. I handled her.”

You looked up at Bryan, a small smile on your face. “Yeah?”

Bryan nodded and walked over to the sink, where he grabbed a rag. “She won’t be bothering you again or else. She’s just bitter and jealous. Her anger is misdirected - she should be upset with me. And even if she was, I don’t give a shit.”

You hummed and began picking up all the fallen clothes. “Thank you.”

Bryan wrapped his arms around you. “Now lets finish cleaning up and then let's take this to the shower.”

FIN.

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#bryan kneef x reader #bryan kneef smut #bryan kneef and reader #the nanny series #bryan kneef x female reader #bryan kneef imagine #the good fight fanfic #bryan kneef x you

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pinkfruitgender · 3 years

Photo

banawalfragric

an aromagender that smells like the banana walnut muffin scent from bath & body works. encompasses the scents of sweet banana, golden nutmeg and cinnamon sugar muffin.

basilgreenfragric

an aromagender that smells like the basil green tea scent from bath & body works. encompasses the scents of fresh-picked herbs, refreshing green tea and touch of lavender.

beachcabanafragric

an aromagender that smells like the beach cabana scent from bath & body works. encompasses the scents of jasmine, succulent orange and warm sand.

beaudayfragric

an aromagender that smells like the beautiful day scent from bath & body works. encompasses the scents of sunkissed apple, sparkling cassis, wild daisies, pink peony and fresh woods.

bergamowaterfragric

an aromagender that smells like the bergamot waters scent from bath & body works. encompasses the scents of sparkling bergamot, pristine blue waters, sugared citrus and creamy sandalwood.

coined by me. absolutely no credit required.

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dumblydork · 3 years

Text

Patronus

So I wanted to do a bit of canon divergent stuff (as if I haven't already) and write something about Hinny in the OoTP universe, when Harry teaches everyone spells, most especially the Patronus charm. NOW I KNOW he was into Cho Chang at the time, and I mean no Cho hate but my Hinny shipping is superior to her and Harry (oops) so I thought I'd write a cute fluffy imagine on Harry helping Ginny with her Patronus spell!

I hope you like this!

-----

Wispy smoke blew inside the Room of Requirement, currently not the headquarters of DA, but a simple room with a few extremely comfortable sofas (yes Harry had checked), but the rest was empty. A huge mirror stood on one wall, occupying it completely. And at the moment, it reflected a slightly tall boy, with uncontrollable black hair curling over his ears, and bright green eyes. The wispy white smoke disappeared, swirling around Harry.

Thee door to the room burst, as Ginny rushed in. Harry looked at her through the mirror, as she walked towards him.

"Stupid Flitwick and his post class discussions. I can never seem to escape him. Sorry I'm late." She smiled slightly at the end, coming to stand next to Harry. She stood a few inches away, staring into the mirror as if it were the Mirror of Erised, reflecting a true deep desire. As Ginny stared intently at the mirror, Harry wondered if she truly was seeing something there which he wasn't. Because it did seem like a simple mirror to him.

"Your hair has gotten longer." She commented, meeting his eyes through the mirror, an action which left Harry's heart rate slightly accelerated. Lately, his heart seemed to be doing treacherous things, running away from his brain's commands. Was it something to do with the smiling redhead standing next to him? Harry did not know the answer.

"I think so, it's overdue for a cut. So, let's get practicing!" He announced overly loudly, turning away from the mirror. He brought his wand from inside his robes, and stood in a bit of a poised position, inhaling deeply. He could tell Ginny's eyes were looking at him intently, but right now his mind was completely filling with the many happy memories he had accumulated over the years. He selected one which always worked- it was the one from when he had first cast a Patronus, in third year with Professor Lupin.

Harry's eyes closed as he thought back to when he was almost a baby, the memory oddly clear for being from infancy. He could see his mom, Lily, speak to him, a bright smile etched on her face, and his dad James, do silly jumps in the background, making young Harry laugh in joy. His mouth reflexively curled into a smile and he let out the incantation, slightly softly. "Expecto patronum!" He said, pointing his wand nowhere in particular. When he opened his eyes, there it was, a silvery stag, standing in front of him regally, and it was hard to believe that it was made entirely of smoke. The stag walked around him, circling him one or twice before stopping in front, nuzzling Harry with it's antlers and then disappeared, leaving behind a blueish sparkle.

"Oh my god. That was absolutely gorgeous, Harry. I wish mine came so easily as well." Ginny commented, clearly in awe. Harry's cheeks turned slightly red, as well as a bit of his neck. A simple compliment from Ginny seemed to have filled him with pride and left him slightly embarrassed. This had been happening too often.

"You really have to focus on the memory. And not just think, but almost live it out again. Every single emotion you felt during that episode needs to be felt again. It is definitely challenging, but Corporeal Patronuses often are. Ready?" He asked, moving a bit behind as Ginny stood straight, her wand pointed slightly at the ceiling.

"Wait." Harry said, frowning, before walking up behind her and bringing her arm slightly lower, where it now pointed just above the entrance door. "You need to release a bit of the tension, It's not a hex. Patronus charm can often read the body language, so it needs a slight tenderness." He almost whispered into Ginny's ear, even though there was nobody who was listening in on them. His right hand stayed on the length of her arm for a bit longer, and a slight touch on her waist, before he walked away and put some distance between them. She nodded, and Harry almost missed the slight shakiness in it. He returned to his original place. "Okay, whenever you're ready." He nodded reassuringly, as Ginny looked over, slightly nervous.

"Okay, I'm going to try." She exhaled lightly, eyes closing and for a second Harry simply admired her. Her slim back, slightly arched as she stood straight, red hair falling to the middle of her back in smooth waves. A pale, milky face with a very generous sprinkling of freckles, currently pulled into a slight frown and a lightly pink mouth, slightly open, slightly inviting. Her eyes were shut tightly, reliving her happiest memory.

Harry was almost rendered breathless as he inhaled how beautiful Ginny had become. This sudden noting of her beauty had started at the beginning of fifth year, when he had started to see Ginny in a completely different context apart from Ron's sister. She had to have changed, right? Harry most definitely was the same from last year- same man, same feelings.

"Expecto patronum!" Harry heard her say, and a light wisp of smoke left her wand, dancing around the two of them. Ginny smiled brightly, looking over at Harry who nodded enthusiastically. They were both just getting used to the abstract shapes when most of the silver combined to leave behind a tall horse in it's wake, with a flowing mane. Much like Harry's stag, it seemed entirely difficult to believe that this was made out of silver smoke and nothing else. They both watched amazed, as the horse ran around the room, finally settling in a curl around Ginny, his mane teasing her lightly.

And then Harry saw Ginny all over again- bathed in the faint glow of her Patronus, her cheeks slightly tinged red from happiness and her lips pulled into a grin so huge that it crinkled the corner of her mocha eyes. Not to mention a slight dimple right in the apple of her cheek, a detail which was novel to Harry. He stood there, amazed, at how a single person could carry a universe's worth of beauty and warmth in them.

Ginny's Patronus stood there, and she looked at Harry. "Why don't you cast yours too? The two would look so pretty!" She suggested, playing with the mane of her patronus, which was definitely enjoying the attention. A low laugh escaped her and it took all of Harry's willpower to not dip and kiss her then and there.

And then it came tumbling onto him. All these new feelings were obviously, quite obviously because he had started fancying Ginny Weasley. And he realized, that it wasn't she who had changed- it was him. She had always been the bubbly, warm, beautiful girl she was, currently bathed in a ethereal silver glow, she looked otherworldly. All of these details were slightly stunning to Harry, but he could not help the giddiness spread through his chest anyway.

"Harry? Go on." She nudged, and he was brought back down to Earth, from his astronomical freefall as he processed this adoration for Ginny.

"Yeah." He said absent mindedly, but cast the Patronus anyway. The stag returned, clearly happy to engage with Harry, and looked questioningly at Ginny and her horse. Then moved towards them equally as cheerfully as he playfully butted with the horse, the two of them chasing each other around the room.

"A stag and horse. How interesting." He noted quietly, as Ginny's smile stayed. Her eyes met Harry's, torn away from the two silver beings and her smile widened, a bright sparkle in her eye. And Harry was thrown back into freefall.

The two silvery-blue Patronuses played with each other, bouncing across the room and suddenly it was clear- that was why the room had been empty apart from just the sofas.

---

NB: Okay, so this didn't turn out as fluffy as I had imagined, but changing direction midway to make it about Harry realizing his feelings for Queen Ginny is never a bad idea.

I hope you enjoyed this nonetheless!

#hinny #hinny headcanon #romance #fluff #ootp #harry potter #ginny weasley #canon divergent #imagine

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talkfastromance4 · 4 years

Text

/clementine/part 3: Ashton Irwin

Thank you all so so much for giving this new series a chance!🧡It will probably be structured like my Luke&Lily series where I’ll have open discussions about this family with little blurbs and then some one shots like these. Catch up below and please tell me what you think! Much love🧡

Part 1 // Part 2

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: sweet moments, mentions of pregnancy

Masterlist

•••••

Preparation for the baby began minutes after Y/N and Ashton celebrated the happy news in their garden and after many photos that Ashton took. He had her pose in the swing then sit on the edge of the pond so the vases could be seen behind her. She thought his excitement was so wholesome it wasn’t hard for her to have a genuine smile as he had her hold one of the vases. When he stuck a small orange flower in her hair she used that opportunity to give him a quick kiss.

“I’m so happy you’re happy,” she whispers.

“I’m over the moon,” he grins, eyes twinkling like stars. “Can I ask why you chose the colors orange and green?”

“Uhh…well. I really love your album and it’s like…” she touches her belly lightly, “this baby is our own superbloom.”

More kissing ensued then Ashton was rattling off paint ideas and how the room next to theirs would be the perfect nursery once he finally cleaned out the leftover packing boxes and some of his things he shifted there to make room for her stuff.

He began sketching the nursery right away but kept his drawings away from her until he could color them in, so she’d have the perfect visual of what he saw in his mind’s eye.

Later that night while they were getting ready for bed, after he checked the locks and security cameras he found her in their bathroom with her shirt yanked up to her breasts and her shorts pulled down a little staring at her reflection. She twisted every which way, a glowing smile present. He’s only known for a few hours and she’s already glowing.

It’s not until he shifts his focus from her face to what she was looking at, a small round bump. Ashton becomes transfixed as he admires her and the life that is very apparent growing within her.

“Do you see this?!” she squeals finally turning around to face him.

“I do see, and it’s incredible, angel,” he smiles moving behind her. He places his own hands over the small roundness of her belly then turns them towards the mirror. “You’re so beautiful.”

He rubs her stomach, fingers tickling her skin until she’s sighing against him. “You’re sure you’re happy?”

“I’m beyond happy, angel.” Then he frowns spinning her around so she’s facing him. He turns her chin up. “Why do you keep asking if I’m happy?”

“Because this wasn’t planned, and I don’t want you to feel stuck with me or something…” she shrugs, eyes lowering in shame.

“You can get that out of your head right now,” he cups her cheeks forcing her to look at him. “Remember when I told you there’s no downside to us not using protection? I meant it. Yes, we absolutely should have used protection, but this isn’t a bad thing, yeah? I’m so happy we’re having a baby.”

He kisses her forehead then her lips once, twice, three times. His hazel eyes search her face for more signs of doubt, but he sees the resolve appear.

“Okay, you’re right,” she sighs. “I’m overthinking it. I’m happy too.”

***

As months go on and Ashton continues to clean out the soon-to-be nursery, Y/N’s showing more and more. Their friends and family were ecstatic about the news of their bundle of joy that would be making their arrival in the middle of June.

Ashton has been more than happy being her support as her body continued to change. He made sure she had plenty of fluids, taking all the necessary prenatal vitamins, gave her the best herbal teas and didn’t mind running to the store for her odd cravings. For a straight week all she wanted was an apple and chicken sandwich.

The holidays went by and Y/N had a constant glow about her that radiated to everyone in proximity. Even through her migraines, nausea, back pain and heartburn, she was still extremely happy to be pregnant.

Mornings are spent by Ashton speaking to the baby while he rubs her belly. He and the boys have started working on the nursery and at nighttime Ashton has set up a little woodshop in the garage where he’s making the crib. He wants it to be circular and painted a light green.

She enjoys watching him work, loving the way his muscles ripple and flex, his sweat making his tattoos shine. Her raging hormones were also very apparent and fired at all times. Once, when Ashton came home he saw her crying on the couch because she had a really good sex dream and was very upset when she woke up. As of late, their best position is from behind while laying on their sides, fingers interlocked and Ashton’s lips on her neck. Because of her heightened arousal, her orgasms happened very quickly.

She’s eight months along now, both her and baby are extremely healthy. Her baby shower (that Ashton insisted on attending) is this weekend in their backyard, but the girls wouldn’t let them lift a finger.

They’re sitting out in the garden now watching the fish swim around lazily as dragonflies kiss the top of the sparkling water. The garden has expanded even more with overflowing green ferned plants and a small bird bath.

“I was thinking of having pork chops for dinner tomorrow and don’t forget we have a doctor appointment on Friday,” she tells him while playing with his fingers. They have more callouses now from all of his woodshop making, the crib is finished and drying in the garage. She looks over at him to see he’s staring off into the distance. “Ash?”

“Hm?”

“What are you thinking about so hard?” she taps her fingers delicately on his temple.

“I’m thinking about the night we met,” he sighs bringing his other hand to cradle her belly. “Do you remember?”

“Of course, I remember. Why are you thinking about that?”

“I had a thought that night and it popped in my head just now,” his fingers create soothing circles on her stomach.

“What thought?”

Ashton ignores the question and starts telling the story of the night they met fifteen months ago.

They were strangers then, both of them agreeing to a speed dating night but there was a twist, it was held in the dark. The waiters wore night vision glasses and walked the daters to their tables, fate had Ashton and Y/N be at the same table.

“They really took ‘blind dating’ literally, huh?” she laughed nervously trying to break the tension. She’s only been on less than a handful of blind dates but this one takes the cake.

“Yeah, I get the concept, but I wish I could see you,” he complimented. Her teasing piqued his interest immediately, she sounded feisty but also clever. “You sound pretty.”

“Yeah? How does pretty sound?” she giggled.

“Just like that,” he pointed then placed his finger down since she couldn’t see it. “Your personality is in your voice. You’re funny and witty and your giggle is just adorable.”

“Well, thank you,” she said feeling her face warm up. “You have a nice voice too.”

“I’m Ashton.”

“Nice to meet you, Ashton, I’m Y/N.”

The evening continued with more laughter as they tried to eat their food in the dark. It took them forever to find their forks and couldn’t stop laughing as they patted the table trying to find a knife.

“Maybe we don’t need one?” he asked.

“But it’s chicken! I don’t want to pick it up with my fingers, we aren’t in the stone ages.”

“Maybe it’s already cut?”

“You test it first.”

She listened as his fork stabbed onto the plate, then it clattered while he yelped in surprise.

“Did it bite you?” she laughed.

“No, it’s just very hot! Be careful.”

When the date has ended with a chocolate mint, the host of the blind dating soirée thanked everyone for participating and said if you’d like to meet your date face to face then take the door on the left, if not then come out the way you came. Ashton and Y/N’s nerves heightened, would the other walk through the left door or leave?

She followed the waiter to the left, hoping Ashton did the same. They had nametags on so it would be easy to find your date if you chose to meet them afterwards. She blinked a few times when the light from the streetlamps met her eyes and standing below a hanging flower basket filled with orange flowers was Ashton.

He smiled at her as she approached, her arms crossed over her chest as a slight breeze drifted through the street.

“Nice to put a face to the name,” he said.

Attraction was immediate and after a few minutes of chatting he asked if she’d like to get a coffee down the block. She accepted and told her friend she’d see her later. Her friend was going to a movie with the girl she had dinner with, and they were already holding hands. Y/N smiled that they hit it off right away.

Ashton and Y/N stayed at the coffee shop until it closed, neither of them wanted the night to end so he invited her back to his place. Normally she would never do that on a first date, but the way she and Ashton connected was unlike any other first date.

He gave her a tour of his house then turned on some music that floated outside onto the patio where he flicked on the small bulbed lights. He noticed she kept shivering and made a fire in his small pit, thankfully it was gas so it would warm up quickly.

“Thank you,” she smiled leaning closer to the flames.

Conversation was so easy between them, they discussed the universe, books, music, everything under the sun that helped define a person. When Lord Huron’s song ‘The Night we Met’ started she gasped.

“I love this song! I know the lyrics are sad, but it makes me feel like it’s a happy nostalgic song, you know?” she said.

Ashton stood up holding out his hand. “Care to dance?”

She stared up at him in shock, excitement and nervousness flowed through her, but a small burst of confidence had her hand fitting into his. He pulled her from her chair then held her close as he shifted from side to side. As the song continued the electricity between them accelerated.

The song stopped and crickets filled the silence.

“Can you keep playing that song?” she asked quietly.

Ashton nodded taking his phone from his pocket and clicked on the song again, making sure that it would be on repeat. He pocketed his phone then took her hand back in his picking up where they left off on their dance. They inch closer, their interlocked hands cradled between their chests. The yearning song mirrored their actions as his forehead pressed to hers.

On the third round of the song he found his own courage by pressing his lips to hers, soft, warm, and perfect. He felt her nerves slip away with his as the first kiss delved into a kiss that felt like a lifetime. It was new but felt so familiar that transcended time.

In that moment he decided that this was the girl he’s going to marry, start a family with, and dance to music under twinkling lights when they’re seventy-five years old. This blind date opened his eyes to a world of possibilities with her and he wanted them all.

The next day the state of California issued a statewide lockdown and their journey began.

“When we were dancing on the patio and we kissed for the first time,” Ashton says coming back to the present, “I knew then that I was going to marry you.” He leans down and kisses the highest point of her belly before taking her hand.

“Y-you did?”

“I know we haven’t talked about marriage, but…with this little one on the way soon I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“We can talk about it,” she nods.

“What are your thoughts on it, angel? I’m feeling some hesitation,” he smiles but it doesn’t meet his eyes. He concentrates on their hands folded together over their baby.

“No, no! Hey,” she turns his head, so he looks at her. “I want to marry you; I’d go right now and waddle down the aisle, but I just don’t think it’s the best time right now. With the baby coming soon we’re going to be really crazy getting a schedule down and we’re going to be extremely tired…”

“You’re right. I don’t want to rush things. But you do want to marry me?” his hazel eyes widen a little.

“Of course, I want to marry you,” she smiles pecking his lips quickly. “I probably would have married you the night we met to be honest.”

“Yeah?” he grins.

“Yes, crazy boy.”

“Come on, why won’t you tell us what you’re having!” Luke whines adjusting his pacifier necklace. It’s their baby shower and one of the games includes wearing a necklace of pacifiers, if you hear someone say the name ‘baby’ you got to take their pacifier. The one with the most won a prize.

Ashton and Y/N had the envelope of the sex of their baby at her four-month ultrasound. Neither of them were really desperate to know so the envelope stayed on their nightstand. Each night they bounced back names and settled on two for either a boy or a girl which they also haven’t shared with friends or family. It’s not that they were scared someone would steal their names, but they liked having it just be known to them.

On the morning of their baby shower she found Ashton eyeing up the envelope after his shower.

“I’ve been thinking about opening it, too,” she smiled picking up the white envelope. Scrawled on the front were the words ‘Baby Irwin’.

“Do you want to?”

They opened it together, tears filling their eyes as they read the one syllable word underneath ‘you’re having a…’ they hugged and kissed in excitement then Ashton kissed her belly.

“Hello baby love,” he murmurs. “We’re having a party for you today, where you’ll be getting lots of clothes and toys. You’re already such a joy, your mama and I love you so much.”

“We’ll tell you,” she nods.

“As soon as Y/N gives birth we’ll let you all know,” Ashton finishes.

Luke was the only one affronted by not knowing, he wants to know the name and everything.

“But that won’t be until the middle of June!”

“Luke, relax. We promise you’ll be the first to know,” Ashton rolls his eyes as he hands Y/N another gift.

They’re all sat by the flower oasis; the fish splash every now and then almost is if they want to know what the gender of the baby is as well. She’s been spending a lot more time in the flower garden, talking to the baby and imagining sitting out here on the swing watching the fish swim.

The nursery is finished, one wall is painted in orange flowers growing up to the ceiling. A green plant sits in the corner next to the teal armchair. Ashton’s circular crib is all set up along with the other furniture in the room and some toys are scattered around. The room is absolutely perfect.

Y/N’s become a bit more emotional now as her due date draws closer. When opening presents are finished and they’re all eating cake (Luke was disappointed there wasn’t blue or pink frosting hiding inside) she teared up.

“Hey, are you all right? Does something hurt?” Ashton asks swiping away a tear from her cheek.

“No, I’m just so happy,” she cries dabbing at her eyes with the peach napkin. “All of our friends and family are here because they already love our baby so much.”

“Oh, angel,” he smiles as she hides her face in his chest. He rubs her back affectionately and kisses the top of her head. “They love you, too.”

As the party dwindled down, she went upstairs to lay down, her feet swell a lot more these days. Ashton helps clean up and brings the gifts inside the nursery. When the last guest leaves he’s exhausted as well and heads upstairs.

She’s sprawled across the bed her pregnancy pillow enveloped around her. That thing was a God send; it was the only way she could sleep through the night without any pain. Ashton was glad it helped her sleep; the only downside was that it was much harder for him to cuddle her close.

He removes his blue silk pants and tugs off his light pink shirt (an outfit choice he wore to mess with Luke) and joins her on the bed. He kisses her forehead, brushing his fingers through her hair then holds his hand on her belly. He feels a slight kick from the baby, and he smiles.

“Don’t wake mama up, baby love,” he smiles, “she’s had a long day on her feet. Take a nap with us.”

Ashton rests his head on the pillow then begins to hum a song until the baby’s kicking ceases and the family of three snooze together until dinner time.

Ashton is about to pull his hair out. It’s been two weeks past Y/N’s due date and she’s miserable. They’ve been trying everything their doctor has recommended to induce labor, spicy foods (after it made her cry she tossed that idea out the window), eating bananas, using the exercise ball and walking. But to no avail, their little baby was as stubborn as Y/N and Ashton.

She’s not sleeping well; she gets nearly six headaches a day and can’t stand for longer than ten minutes without her back hurting. Ashton has suggested trying to have sex as that’s the number one trial to induce labor, but she shot that down quick too.

“Ash, listen, I love you and you know I think you’re sexy, but sex is the furthest thing on my mind right now. I feel like a whale and I’m so hot and uncomfortable…”

When tears sprung in her eyes he never brought it up again but still, he wants their baby to arrive now so she’s not in this state anymore. She’s sitting on the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table, a fan blasting on high directed right at her.

“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” he asks leaning over the back of the couch.

“No,” she grumbles rubbing her stomach. “Can we try walking again?”

“Around the block?”

“No, just the backyard,” she sighs trying to sit up. Ashton helps her stand then holds her elbow with one hand resting on her back. “My womb can’t be that comfortable.”

Ashton smiles but doesn’t say anything. He learned two weeks ago that any form of compliment towards her womb accommodations made her angry. She sighs when her feet touch the warm patio then into the soft grass.

They start from the opposite end of the flower oasis where now a small well resides with vines growing up. Ashton holds her hand as they walk through the garden, each section resembling a chapter in this part of their life. It’s filled with color and vibrance and was made from love. When they reach the koi pond, Felix, Oscar and Patricia are gathered together near the edge.

“Can you hand me the food?” she asks.

Ashton removes his hand to grab the fish food and hands it to her. She pops it open then sprinkles the food into the water.

“Do you think they know I’m pregnant?” she asks.

“Maybe…are they like dogs in how they can sense it?” Ashton asks.

“I don’t know. I like to think they know. All right,” she sighs heavily, “lets’ head back inside.”

As soon as she crosses the threshold, she hears a small pop then something trickling down her legs. She gasps and looks down at her feet to see water covering her orange colored toes (courtesy of Ashton painting them since she can’t see her feet). Her water broke. It’s time.

“Um, Ash?” she reaches towards a chair and holds onto it.

“What’s up, angel?”

“My water just broke.”

“In the pond? How? Wait—what?!” he spins from the fridge and stands in front of her. His eyes widen. “Okay, stay right here, let me get you some new pants and we’ll go to the center.”

After twelve hours of labor, their baby girl was born on July 1. They both cried tears of joy at the sight of her, her face was a perfect circle with long lashes and an already apparent pair of dimples on her round cheeks. Ashton couldn’t stop staring at her as Y/N held her in her arms, he strokes his finger over her forehead gently. The peach fuzz of her skin is warm and already familiar.

“Here’s our superbloom,” she smiles to Ashton.

He meets her gaze, eyes filled with love and admiration that she carried their baby girl for this amount of time. He kisses her and rests his forehead against hers.

“Our darling Clementine.”

•••••

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#ashton irwin one shot #dad!ash #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin writing #ashton 5sos #dad!sos #clementine #ai writing #ashton one shot #ashton fluff

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y2kbeautyandother2000sstuff · 3 months

Text

BBW Sparkling Green Apple Anti Bacterial Hand Gel

2002

found on ebay, user theloosestthread

#bath and body works #vintage bath and body works #sparkling green apple #anti bacterial #2000s #y2k #apple #green

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mikkomacko · 4 years

Text

Dear Daisy 7

Before Chapter Blurb

The Christmas tree Niall brought over last week lights up the living room in the early morning shade, the dark snow clouds outside leaving the house darker than usual. Daisy shakes off the snow on her boots and leaves them at the door, cold fingers clutching the letter she just retrieved from the mailbox. Harry’s neat writing has scribbled her name on the envelope, and the heart he placed next to it makes her tummy flutter. She hooks her nail under the seal, tearing it open and unfolding his letter with hopeful eyes.

Dear Daisy,

How's the weather back home? I hope it hasn't been too brutal on you. Remember that one winter it snowed so much everyone got trapped inside their homes? I don't think that'll happen but if the snow picks up too much please call my mum over or go stay with her. I really don't want you home alone during a snow storm. Funny that I told you not to worry about me but here I am fretting over the idea of a blizzard, aye?

Anyway, nothing has been set in stone for my Christmas plans yet, however, a buddy of mine is returning home for the holidays and he's heard word that I might be at home as well. No matter I promise you'll have the best Christmas, I'll do everything in my power to make sure. I'm sure my mum has told you but you're welcome to her annual Christmas party whether I'm there or not. Gemma will be there and she'll take care of you. Speaking of taking care of you, I've heard from a little birdie that you're thinking of using your own hard earned money for gifts this year. While I find that incredibly sweet, I can't allow it. Daisy, you know you can always use our money for anything. I also need to send gifts and it would really be much more simple if you just used the card and then signed my name as well. And if you don't agree with that, too bad. I've contacted my uncle and he's told the local shops to not accept cash from you. Yes, even all the way in France I'm taking care of you. Promised I would, didn't I?

The money you've got from working is yours Daisy. I honestly find it wonderful and inspiring that you've gone out and found work and are able to take care of yourself. I reckon more ladies in our town should be like you. I also reckon you take your earnings and buy something for yourself, something you've always wanted. I know you love reading, and I know Robin has got a couple could bookstores in mind. I'm sure he'd be happy to point you in the direction of them if that's something you'd like. Don't have much time for reading here so maybe you could read a couple good novels for me and then tell me all about them? It's the least you could do really considering that I'm playing knight in shining armor for you.

Hopefully next time we talk I'll have more news about Christmas for you, but remember that you're always in my thoughts. I see your eyes sparkle in the lights and tinsel around town. I see snowflakes melting on the apples of your cheeks and sticking to your eyelashes. I feel your hands when I warm up next to the fire. I feel the same joy you carry in the spirit of Christmas that surrounds me. In some ways I think you and I are a lot like winter. The bitter bite in the air and the soothing heat of cocoa. The hibernation of creatures, the death of plants, and the pureness and rebirth of snow. I could go on forever about you and I Daisy, but I think I'll save the rest of my affection for in person.

Happy holidays love,

The Harry Styles x

Daisy had never been so disappointed in her life. Not even when her family threw her out of the house and into the arms of Harry to be cared for. Maybe this is so much worse than being let down by her parents because Harry actually did care for her. She doesn't know what changed between the time she moved in and now, but something inside both her and Harry went from disgust to attraction. She can feel it her bones when she thinks of him. How much she aches for him, how much her lips miss saying his name. It's even present in their letters to each other. They're thoughtful of each other, loving towards one another. They've spent more time apart than they have married and yet she thinks they're more dedicated to each other than any other couple in this town.

Unable to hide her sadness over Harry still being overseas despite Christmas being a few days away, Daisy decided to not spend tonight with Anne. She'll be there for Christmas Eve, thinking of how Harry should be there too, so tonight is just time for her. She'd found a copy Pride and Prejudice a few days ago in the office downstairs, deciding to read it again as it's one of her favorite stories. Harry's probably read it before but she'll still write her thoughts on the book to him.

He's all she can think about as she curls up in his bed, the thick quilt his grandmother had made him wrapped around her shoulders. Bedside lamp still on, Daisy falls asleep wondering if she should tell Harry that he very much reminds her of Mr. Darcy. Of course that would make her Elizabeth and she really can't think of a more romantic representation of their affection for each other.

The spare key under the loose brick in the front hasn't been moved, though it is buried and frozen by snow. His car has been moved into the garage to be protected from the weather and the vibrant green of his front yard is now a white wonderland, lit up by multicolored lights. Harry can't help but hate how much has changed without him. He wasn't there to put up lights, wasn't there to winterize the grass, wasn't there to salt the sidewalk. Fearing what else might have changed while he was gone, particularly Daisy, Harry's hand trembles as he unlocks the front door.

He stays as quiet as can be as he moves into the house, dropping his bag by the closed door and re-locking it. His train ticket was a late departure, but he won't complain. Better to get home late than not at all. Peeling off his wet boots and coat, Harry drops them into a pile on the floor. The Christmas tree Niall had cut down for him is still gleaming in the living room, lighting the path towards Daisy's bedroom. Maybe Harry should go upstairs and change, wash away his time in France before he goes searching for his girl, but he's exhausted and aching for her. It's not until he's tiptoed down the hall and nudged her door open does it dawn on him that Daisy could be at his mother's house. He knows she's been sleeping there a lot and there'd be no reason for her to come home tonight because he didn't tell her that he was coming home.

Heart sinking lower into his stomach as he checks for her in every available spot downstairs, Harry dejectedly yanks on the plug of Christmas lights, bathing the house back into darkness. He's heading back to the door to put his boots and coat back on when he catches the sliver of yellow light coming down the staircase. Pushing himself up the stairs, his heart leaps back into his chest when he reaches the landing and finds his own bedroom door open. From here he can see his bedside table with the lamp still on and a lump under his blankets. She's here. Daisy's home and she's in his bed. On the side he sleeps on and everything.

Harry's quick to cut across the hallway, stepping into his bedroom. Lightly, he closes the distance between him and the bed. He can barely see Daisy from how she's wrapped herself up in his blankets, one arm hanging out with his copy of Pride and Prejudice sitting loosely in her palm. He perches his bum on the little space between her and the edge, carefully removing the book from her palm and placing it on his bedside table. Peeling back the blankets she's snuggled under, Harry's heart leaps when he finally her beautiful face. Still sleeping soundly, lips mushed into his pillow with the smallest bit of drool staining the side of her mouth. He desperately wants to just strip off his uniform and climb into bed with her in nothing but his pants, wants to feel her on his skin after so long of sleeping alone on an army cot, but he can't. He'd hate if she woke up and was uncomfortable, if he made her uncomfortable, so he silently returns to his feet and slips into the closet.

Remaining in the doorway, just so he can still be able to see Daisy, Harry leaves his uniform in a mess of green fabric on the floor and quickly slips into a set of pajamas. The wood floor is cold on his toes but he ignores it in favor of getting back to her as quickly as possible. Harry pauses, eyeing the side of the bed that's completely open for him but he doesn't want to sleep there. He wants to curl up on his side, lay his head on the same pillow Daisy's is on, share such an intimate space with her again because he surely took it for granted that night he left. He should've held her tighter, should've stayed awake longer just to have more time with her. He should've memorized how it felt to feel her hands on him and how she's the heaviest sleeper he's ever met. He just should've done more for her.

He's not going to waste anymore time.

Pulling back the blankets, enough to expose Daisy to the cooler air of the bedroom, Harry lies himself next to her. She remains as still as a statue, but he notices that as soon as his feet brush hers it's like she fully relaxes. As if she were having a bad dream or uncomfortable and his presence next to her has brought that fragile peace needed for a good nights sleep. His heart swells at the thought of her subconsciously needing him like he needs her, and it takes all his strength to reach over and turn out the light instead of throwing himself on top of her and kissing her until they suffocate. He reckons that'd be a great way to go but he's not ready for that. He's still got so much of himself to give and share with her.

Perhaps he was right when he told her the heart grows fonder with distance, because never in a million years would he imagine his eyes stinging with unshed tears as he wraps himself around Daisy, body fitting to hers like it belongs there.

Home.

Daisy's first reaction upon waking up to loud snores and a heavy weight around her middle was to poke her fingers into the strangers closed eyes and definitely knee him in the groin, and then hopefully be quick enough to get to the neighbors for help. That is until her bleary eyes focus on the face in front of her. His strong jaw, the frown that's always on his face, even when he sleeps, and the mess of curls on the pillow. His face is a little slimmer in the cheeks and his hair shorter (and a little greasy at the roots) but he's still handsome. He's still Harry.

Her vision blurs again, this time with tears on her waterline, and she reaches up to cup his jaw, afraid this is just part of a dream. "Harry?" She whispers, heart pounding on her chest. A little short cuts off his snores, pink lips smacking together and he wiggles further into the mattress before falling still again. It's really him. He's really home. He's somehow made it back to her and climbed into their bed at God knows what hour without even waking her. She can't help but mentally curse him, wishing she had known sovsge could've met him at the train station with hot tea. He must have been freezing when he got home last night. The least she could've done was gone to pick him up.

"Harry? Will you please wake up?"

Luckily for Daisy, he's a bit of light sleeper, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone being enough to peel his eyes open. He blinks twice, eyebrows pinching together as his sleepy eyes flicker over her face.

"I'm sleeping." He grumbles, eyes closing again but Daisy doesn't care if he's annoyed or mad at her for waking him. She missed him too much to care so she pushes him onto his back, throwing her body over his and worming her hands under his neck. Harry grunts under her weight, lifting his head to adjust the way she's holding him before falling back into the pillows with a soft sigh.

"What are you doing here? Why didn't you say anything you prick? You scared me to death!" His lips curl up at her words, obviously pleased at getting a rise out of her by not giving her all the information about him coming home.

"I scared ya?" He mumbles incredulously, "Came home to find your room empty, thought you'd somehow got frozen outside trying to sneak to my mum's and then I find ya in my bed? Scared me more, I reckon."

Daisy leans back, hoping to get another look at his beautiful eyes after so long of not seeing them but he's still pretending sleep when she looks down at his face. "How'd ya know I've been going to your mum's?"

She blows on him in attempt to annoy him enough to open his eyes, to just please look at her but he remains stubborn, squeezing them shut. "She wrote me." He answers simply, the thickness of his voice catching her off guard. Squinting curiously, she notices his Adam's apple bob nervously, and his teeth take in his bottom lip.

"Harry?" Daisy murmurs, releasing her right hand from it's spot under his neck to place it over his chest. She's shocked by how fast it's pounding, how his shoulders have tensed up. "Are you okay Harry?"

His nose scrunches, his eyes closing even tighter, features twisting as if he's in pain. He nods just once, a trembling breath leaving his flaring nostrils. Daisy doesn't know everything about Harry, not yet, but she knows that he's not okay. That he's holding something back and she's so worried that maybe he's hurt, that something happened in France and he's been sent home because he's injured, that a sudden knot lodges itself in her throat.

Her words are croaky and strained. "Can I see you Harry? Please?" She begs, trailing her hand up his collarbones to cup his jaw. "I haven't seen you in so long."

Silence. Not a word from him. Not even a shake or nod of his head. Harry remains twisted up, refusing to look at her, to speak to her.

"I miss you Harry. I miss you so much."

Her words push him over, his arms flying up to wrap around her and he sits up to hold her to his chest. She can't see him like this either but it doesn't matter because he's shaking and sniffling, the cries he was holding back finally breaking through. Daisy wraps her arms around his waist, her own eyes welling up with tears again at the sound of him whimpering.

"I miss you love. More than you'll ever know. Don't think I can go back now that I've got you again." Harry's rambling under his breath, soft sentiments of everything he missed, every little reminder of her that tormented him in France. She thinks he might be influenced by drowsiness but that doesn't stop her from pulling back enough to finally see his eyes. Even red rimmed and leaking, shining with longing and pain, they're the most breath taking color. They're eyes only meet for a moment before she's sealing her lips to his.

It's refreshing to feel his mouth again. Like warming up by the fire after making the wall home from the bakery. Like the sight of gooey chocolate chip cookies being broke in half, melted chocolate still connecting the two pieces. Like waking up to a fresh coat of snow in the morning, untouched by feet and vehicles and sleds. Like stockings resting over a fire. Like the silence that sits between them when he reads and she crochets.

Somewhere deep in her heart, it registers to Daisy that this is what home feels like.

Robin's a fairly short man, not that Daisy had noticed until Harry's standing next to him in the bakery, an old apron of the owners barely reaching his thighs. The knot in the back is the smallest possible knot she could tie because Harry's training has beefed him up quiet a bit and Robin's a very thin man. She doesn't know what it is, if it's the fact that it's so overwhelming to have him back again he just seems so much bigger than he used to, or if she somehow didn't notice how much he towers over everyone until now, but Daisy feels like a flower in the shadow of Big Ben next to him. It's both intimidating and soothing at the same time, but that's just Harry's brand she supposes.

"It's really not necessary for you to spend the day here." Robin repeats, digging through the orders for today. Daisy knows he's got a lot to bake today seeing as he closed for the holidays starting tomorrow and plenty of families need their baked goods for their celebrations. She promised to be here to help and even Harry's surprise drop in isn't going to ruin her word.

"Don't be silly Robin. We want to be here." Daisy assures, washing her hands so she can begin making the dough for the first order of dinner rolls. Harry looks a bit lost as Robin pins up the orders on the cork board and Daisy gets cooking. She's never seen Harry not completely own the whole room before and seeing him watching her curiously is oddly cute.

Robin puts Harry to work the counter and wrap up orders, much to his disliking seeing as he's not the socialist of butterflies, but he doesn't complain. Not even when Jacqueline Haverhill is utterly rude to him, glaring at him throughout the whole transaction. Daisy doesn't exactly know what Harry did to bother Jacqueline but she guesses it's probably something similar to his interaction with Mrs. Weathers.

As the day goes on, the orders get sent out, and a soft trickle of snow begins outside, Daisy notices that Harry's really good at wrapping the orders. He's precise about cutting the wrap and his bows of ribbons are perfect and the card with the order name is always written in a neat, slanted cursive. She can't help but imagine a Christmas Eve night in which her and Harry are both sat awake in the dead of the night, Harry wrapping gifts for a child that's asleep on the floor above them, scribbling their name on the gift tag and signing it from Santa Claus. He's got the perfect writing for that of the holiday icon. And then he'd hand the pretty package over for Daisy to place nicely under their tree.

Something in her stomach twists, realizing for the first time that she's imagined herself actually being a mother to his children. Of course she's thought about how good of a father he'd be, but she's never had such a vivid picture of the two of them parenting. It's such a shocking and sweet moment that she can't help but wipe the flour on her hands off on her apron, tentatively approaching Harry as he piles the two orders of cakes next to each other. He pauses when she walks over, mouth opening to question her but he doesn't get a chance to before she's pressing herself into his large chest, arms finding their way around his waist.

Harry freezes just for a moment, obviously caught off guard, but then he's wrapping his own arms around her shoulders and squeezing her a bit tighter. Daisy doesn't know what to say as reasoning for her suddenly wanting to hold him but Harry luckily doesn't question her. Maybe he's just as desperate for her as she is for him. Robin doesn't say anything to the two, simply smiling to himself as he watches Harry's eyes flutter close, resting his cheek on top of her head. Harry's not an affectionate person, most often he's rather cold, but he looks perfectly at home holding Daisy the way he is. Like he needs her to breathe.

"Hello hello!" Anne interrupts as she enters the bakery, Daisy opening her eyes just in time to see her brilliant smile drop into one of shock. Her gloved hands cup her mouth, eyes watering at the sight of Harry standing in the bakery when she'd been under the impression that he was still in France.

"Hello mum." Harry greets casually, lifting his head as Daisy pulls away. She catches the grin on his face, resembling the cat that got the canary as he moves around the counter. "How are ya?" He spreads his arms wide, blocky teeth sinking into plush lip. Anne visibly trembles, dropping her hands from her mouth to swing her handbag at him. Daisy giggles at Harry's flinch and the way his entire face scrunches into a childish pout.

"Oh you bugger!" Anne scolds wetly, smacking him one more time before finally accepting a hug from him. Daisy's chest expands with her growing heart at the image of Harry holding his wailing mother, stroking his fingers through his mother's dark hair while assuring her that he's fine. Like Daisy, she must have thought Harry is back due to injury or illness.

"Got home late last night mum, didn't want to wake you." He explains when she curses him for not stopping the minute he returned. "Didn't even wake Daisy. She came after me the same way too."

That same thickness that had taken over his voice this morning clouds his words, and the imagine of his tortured eyes makes Daisy nauseous. She distracts herself with wrapping up Anne's order of biscuits for the Christmas party tomorrow. Of course that doesn't stop her from listening in on the two, heart turning to mush at the sweet interaction between mother and son.

"I can't believe you're here Harry! And look how big and handsome you've gotten!"

"Was I not handsome before?" Harry's time is teasing but a quick glance at him and she can see the genuine curiosity in his slightly offended gaze.

"Of course you were ya goose! But you look awful proper with ya hair short and all." Anne continues to gush over him, fawning over the dusting of stubble on his jaw and how's he's too big for even the apron and how she better watch out or she'll have Goliath for a son. Daisy thinks it's a bit cheesy, Anne's compliments to him. Maybe a bit exaggerated too but then she catches the blush on Harry's cheeks and the boyish glint of pride in his green eyes, and she understands. Harry's a mumma's boy. He's eating up Anne's attention and fawning over him like a dog posing for treats.

Harry enjoys being doted on. Flattered. Babied even. There's something about that revelation that stirs in her stomach, warming her entire being.

Robin slides up next to Daisy, mixing bowl in the crook of his arm and whisking the batter in it. He nods towards Anne and Harry, a bashful smile on his face. "Don't charge her, alright?"

Daisy supposes it's because Robin's always known Harry's family, cares for them. And seeing the heart warming reunion between Anne and Harry, she's not surprised at all that he's dropped the charge. Robin's a nice man and he's got a soft spot for Harry, therefore having one for Harry's loved ones as well.

She looks back at him, biting back a smile when she sees him press a sweet kiss to the top of his mother's head, and she's so darn lucky to have a place in his life.

Soldiers wear their uniforms when they go out. At least that's what the ones in the pub do. Daisy thinks it's to pick up girls seeing as every available lady in town is eager to flatter a serving man, and all the ones in here do have a girl or two attached to them, stroking the collars of their jackets and praising the ribbons and metals pinned to them.

Harry removes his long army green coat, draping it over his arm before reaching to help Daisy our of her white one. He didn't wear his uniform and she's quite glad for it. Of course Harry would probably scare away any girl that came near him and she'd definitely enjoy seeing it but she doesn't want to see anyone try to get his attention anyway. She just got him back and she's not sharing at all.

"This way Daisy." Harry guides, a warm hand on the small of her back. Two of Harry's army friends, a man named Pip who he roomed with, and another named Oliver were also allowed home for a visit. Both men were from the same town and enjoyed Harry's company enough to offer a meet up halfway between their town and Daisy's and Harry's.

The table closest to the bar and furthest from the dance floor is where Harry's mates are sat, and just like him, they're not in uniform either. However, they do have women with them and Daisy guesses that that's the reason they're dressed down. They don't need to impress or brag because they've got birds.

"Aye Harry!" The tallest man cheers loudly through a slight slur, slamming his hand on the table next to his pint. The girl with him, a lanky and slim brunette halfheartedly shushes him but it falls on deaf ears as he scrambles from his seat to greet Harry.

They exchange hugs, Harry clapping him on the back quite hard in a way that makes Daisy wince, but the man must be used to Harry hitting him like that because he just grins and smacks Harry's chest in return. "Is this ya girl Harry?" He questions when his blue eyes catch Daisy hovering behind Harry. She smiles politely, blushing when Harry reaches back for her hand.

"S'my Daisy, alright." He murmurs with a proud nod, pulling her into his side. "Daisy, this is Oliver and that quiet bloke in the back is Pip." Harry gestures the man still sat at the table, sharing a warm drink with the blonde next to him, who judging by the ring on her finger, is Pip's wife.

"Hello," Daisy greets, accepting a hand shake from Oliver. Harry leads her closer to the table, letting her pick a seat before settling himself next to her. She ends up by the blonde, nodding when she introduces herself as May. Harry leans over to gruffly shake hands with Pip, his arm on the back of her chair and warm chest against her shoulder. Oliver's girl says her name is Molly, and Daisy can't help but think that May and Molly are the prettiest names for two friends like them. She supposes Summer and Daisy are pretty good too.

"Would you like a drink love?" Harry murmurs in her ear, interrupting her thoughts with his warm breath. She nods gently, receiving a tender kiss on her cheek before Harry's on his feet and heading towards the bar. Daisy watches him, enjoying the way his white trousers cling to his peachy bum. She's dragged out of her admiring by Pip.

"When Harry told us he's got a bird back home, I never expected him to have someone so quiet and sweet."

Daisy giggles nervously, pushing her hair behind her ear when Oliver nods his agreement. "Big grumpy lad like him, was expecting someone like my bloody Aunt Cecil." Pip and Oliver chortle drunkenly, Molly chuckling before turning to Daisy.

"Aunt Cecil is the most terrible woman I've ever met. Very braggy when she's not even got anything to brag about!" Molly's obvious distaste makes Oliver laugh louder, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

"Terrible," he agrees with a sigh, "but I think it's right fitting that Harry have you with him. A bit of balance eh?"

"He definitely looks less brutish with a little thing like you on his arm." Pip agrees, "Proper cute you are." May repeats his words, smiling sweetly at Daisy. Not knowing what exactly to say, she’s grateful when Harry returns with her drink and a beer for him. When he settles back into his chair, his arm returns to it’s spot around her shoulders. Daisy relaxes into his touch, remembering all the girls here that would definitely try to win his attention, and she beams with pride at the fact that he’s hers.

Oliver and Pip start up a conversation of what they missed most about home. Pip swears he’ll never find better cooking than the meals May makes, practically on the verge of tears as he dramatically declares his love for her beef stew. Oliver laughs, scrunching his nose when he says he missed the smell of home. Paris, he thinks, smells of cigarette smoke and too much perfume. Daisy’s not sure what she was expecting Harry to say, maybe that he missed his comfortable mattress or his novels, but she’s not expecting him to shrug and wholeheartedly say her name.

Her heart swells, ears burning as Molly and May coo. She catches Harry’s bashful gaze, grinning as she pecks his pink lips as tenderly as she can. For a moment they’re stuck in a lover’s bubble, gooey eyes and shy grins, but it’s quickly shattered by Pip’s groan and mouth.

“Excellent choice Styles,” he approves, “Nothing like coming home to shag and love on your wife, aye?” That’s followed by a holler from Oliver, and the clanking of beer bottles. She watches Harry’s eyes widen, and he turns to them with a laugh that doesn’t really sound like him. They take his sip of his beer as joining in on their celebration of sex. The heat in her face grows, spreading to her belly and Daisy suddenly wishes they’d stayed home tonight so she could have had Harry all to herself.

She's changed into her night gown, sitting with her legs folded on Harry's bed and peeking into the bathroom while he brushes the alcohol of the night off his tongue. Harry's only put on pajama pants, leaving his torso fair game for her eyes to roam over. It's odd not feeling like she's prying by ogling him but she can't get the words of his friends off her mind.

"Nothing like coming home to shag and love on your wife, aye?"

He is her husband. She's devoted herself to him for the rest of her life, willingly, and she doesn't even remember why she was so upset about being Harry's in the first place. He's thoughtful, caring, intelligent, and so very handsome. It feels silly that she ever looked at him and hated him, because right now all she wants is him.

Daisy's never shagged anyone. The only person she's ever kissed is Harry save for a few cheek kisses from boys throughout the years. She can't help but look at Harry and wonder if he has. He's obviously attractive, every girl in town has wanted him at some point in their lives, but she's never heard anything about Harry wanting them. Up until that night her parents dropped the marriage bomb on her, she kind of assumed Harry would always just be Harry.

There was one rumor though, she recalls, coming up when she was about sixteen. A girl named Lucille had been the center of it, everyone claiming she'd lost her virginity too young to a boy at the summer party always thrown at her house. No one cared about the boy because the real spice of the rumor was Lucille having sex outside of wedlock, but the boy mattered to Daisy because it was Harry. At least that's what Summer had heard from someone. She remembers how awful she had felt hearing that, having to leave school early because her stomach was doing an awful job at holding down her lunch. At the time she thought it was just a disgust at the thought of anyone, especially someone as sweet as Lucille, sleeping with someone as rude as Harry.

But now, watching him lean over the sink to rinse his mouth, shoulders rippling as he moves, Daisy thinks she was jealous. She wasn't disgusted that Lucille slept with Harry, no, she was disgusted that Harry had slept with Lucille. She was absolutely put off by the fact that Harry hadn't come to her. Because he was always going after her. Always teasing, always picking, always embarrassing. Why was that time the exception?

"Harry?" His name is out of her lips before she can even rationally think about what she's wanting to ask him, and when he exits the bathroom with a soft "wha'sa matter?" her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Instinctively, her hands reach to the bottom of the bed for the crochet blanket, fingers wiggling through the stitches in attempt to calm her suddenly pounding heart. Deciding that there's no possible way for her to ignore her curiosity nor how much she wants to feel his skin under her fingertips, she quickly spits out her question.

"Do you miss shagging?"

For a moment, Daisy thinks Harry might be mad. There's a flash in his eyes, one of annoyance and frustration, and she can feel an apology building on her tongue when Harry moves to sit on the edge of the bed by her.

"What's got this on your mind Daisy?"

She feels a bit like a child with the tone he uses, as if he thinks she's repeating something she'd heard on the playground and knew nothing about before inquiring about it. "Pip and Ollie mentioned it, and well, you sort of laughed but it was different. I was just wondering, I don't know. We don't really speak about personal things but I don't want you, I don't know, suffering because you think I'm clueless or-"

Harry interrupts her with a sharp call of her name, cutting off her defensive ramble. His hands reach up to untangle her fingers from the blanket, holding them in his own. Thumbs brushing over the back of her hands, his usually stoic expression breaks into a fond gaze. "First of all, I want you to know that I would never want you to do that based off the belief that you think m'suffering or whatever other bloody nonsense your mother has put in that head of yours."

Daisy's ears burn, embarrassed by the mention of her mother because Harry's spot on. She's always grown up hearing that as a wife, she does whatever her husband requests of her, no questions asked. But beneath that layer of embarrassment, is another source of heat, begging for her to just lean over and smear her mouth to his.

"Second," he continues "I don't need shagging Daisy. If we talked about it and both wanted to that'd be a different story but I promise you that I don't wake up every morning and curse the world because I've still not made love to you." His sentence is punctured with a shy giggle, one she's never heard come out of his mouth and it makes her heart swoop pleasantly. Harry's cute, she tells herself while mentally adding to the list of new things she's learned about her husband in just a few days of having him home.

"Ok Harry." She agrees, even more flustered at his compassion towards her and the subject of sex. "I suppose I just got caught off guard when Pip said how much he missed it while he was away and I didn't want you to feel that way too. You're already in a trying situation and that's the last thing I want."

Daisy moves closer to him when his dimples sink into the plushness of his cheeks, lips shining when he runs his tongue over them in attempt to hide the boyish smile on his face. "Want to hear a secret?" He finally whispers, dropping his gaze to where his hands are still tenderly holding hers. Daisy mutters a yes, eager to know something personal about Harry.

He clears his throat gently, shaking his head as if he's mentally scolding himself for whatever information he's holding inside his head. When he does finally speak, his voice is so quiet she wouldn't have heard it had it not been for how closely together they're sat.

"I can't miss something I never had."

It takes another moment for his words to register in her mind but when they do she could jump in elation. Of course she'd never judge Harry for having already had sex but she's so utterly relieved to know that she's not alone in her inexperience. She can't fight the grin that pulls at her lips, Harry rolling his eyes when he glances up through thick lashes to gauge her reaction.

He looks so shy, so tentative about what she might say to his secret and for the first time since she's known him, confidence surges through her. She squeezes his hand, pushing her shoulders back as she nonchalantly replies, "Neither can I, but I can yearn for it."

Harry's head snaps up at her words, eyes bright and big with surprise. Pink lips dropped open in disbelief, Daisy refuses to shy away from his prodding gaze because she knows what she said is truthful. Why can't she finally shag Harry? She's married to him and she trusts him, and if the admittance that she was jealous of Lucille is anything to go by, she's wanted Harry for a lot longer than she thought.

"Daisy," Harry utters, voice strained and rough in his throat. It sends shivers up her spine. "you're gonna have to give me more than that if you want something darling."

Before any unpleasant nerves can take over, she complies. "I've never slept with anyone before either but I would sh-I want to do that with you. If you want to."

His fingers are gentle but persistent as they trail up her exposed arms, Harry's eyes remaining on hers for any sign of reluctance or regret. He reaches the sleeves of her nightgown, fingertips dipping under the fabric and when she steadily maintains eye contact, he knows that's he's fully got the go-ahead. She can tell by the simper that lifts his lips and the sudden darkness in his eyes. Harry pushes himself onto his knees, face leaning in so close to hers his minty breath blows the baby hairs out of her face. Daisy allows herself to be guided back by his wide shoulders and bulging chest, eyes growing heavy under his heated gaze as her head meets the pillows.

"Are you certain Daisy?" Harry murmurs, checking once again. His thoughtfulness for her feelings and emotions is endearing and overwhelming, bringing a sudden sting to the back of her eyes. Daisy nods, reaching up to hold the side of his face, and tilting her chin up to brush their lips together.

"There's no other person I'd want to do this with Harry, and there's no other time that would be as perfect for a first time as right now." Harry's breathing grows heavier at her words, and while she usually struggles to read his gaze, tonight's different. She can see it in his eyes too, that burning need and passion that she can feel in her chest as well. "Besides, this is usually a wedding night activity so we're quite behind Mr. Styles."

The smirk that lifts her lips brings elation to his eyes, his dimples making an appearance with a smirk of his own. "If that's the case, reckon I should carry on, aye Mrs. Styles?"

She manages one feeble nod before his mouth is fully on hers, leaning all his weight onto his right elbow while his left hand drops down to her waist. He holds there for a moment, strong, nimble fingers a reassuring weight on her skin while she takes the time to run her own fingers over his exposed skin. The dips of his muscles and the heat of his body is enthralling, drawing her in before reducing her to mush.

The heat in Daisy's belly is searing, a fire burning so strongly she thinks she might melt into a puddle on the bed, soaking into the fabric of Harry's sheets to stay there for the rest of eternity. She's not sure what's warmer, the arousal in her core or the heat wafting off of Harry. Possibly Harry because she's never seen him like this. He's never looked so big, so manly, so strong while somehow also being so soft and sweet. This is the Harry she likes, the Harry she hopes is around for the rest of their lives. Calloused hands on her waist, eagerly pulling up the fabric of her clothes, prompting her to lift her bum so he can get the gown up around her waist.

Knickers visible to not only the chilly room, but Harry as well, goosebumps prickle her skin and her heart thumps erratically in her chest. Harry's large palm continues to trail up her body, exposing more of her skin inch by inch. His hips settle between her thighs, the soft skin of his belly brushing against hers. Daisy's never felt his skin on her like this and a wave of arousal pulses between her thighs. There's a bit of struggle with getting the nightgown over her head, Harry not wanting to release her bottom lip from between his teeth but eventually sacrificing the kiss to get her naked.

He sits back on his haunches, tossing her clothes over his shoulder as his eyes drink in every inch of her heated body. His fingers trail up her legs, brushing over her hips in a teasing manner as they follow an unmarked path to her naked chest.

“Prettiest bird I’ve ever seen, ya know that?” Harry murmurs against the corner of her lips, tentatively cupping the supple flesh and watching her face intently. Experimentally pinching his fingers into her skin, his eyes twinkle when the first shuttering moan breaks through Daisy’s lips. “Feel good?”

Nodding, she grips his arms for stability in the swirling mess of heat and desperation that’s taken over her body. She’s always been fairly quiet, but Harry’s touch is so comforting and exciting, she doesn’t hesitate to whine impatiently. “Thought you were getting a move on it Styles?” He quirks an eyebrow at her response, fingers pausing for a moment before he scolds her with a gentle tug on her nipple that sucks the air out of her lungs.

Harry slips off the bottom of the bed, shaking his head just once. “I’ll hurry Daisy, but I want ya calling me Harry tonight. Not Styles,” his eyes meet hers with a warning glare in them, daring her to argue. Something about his dominance has more wetness pooling between her spread legs, dampening the cotton fabric of her underwear. “Want to hear just my name from you.”

She nods again, so quickly her brain rattles around in her head but her eagerness is rewarding because Harry smirks and hooks his thumbs in his only two layers, tugging them down in on go. He kicks them off his ankle but Daisy barely catches the movement because her eyes are stuck on his stiff member. Red and thick, the head of him bobs up by his belly button and smears the clear liquid leaking out of him against the sprinkle of hair that leads between his thighs. Harry stands like a Greek sculpture, one hand on his lean hip and the other tangled in his unruly hair. His body glows in the soft light of the lamp, illuminating the layer of sweat that glistens on his muscles. Her eyes land on his thighs, gnawing on her bottom lip as she realizes how thick and pretty his legs are. She finds herself wishing it was the meat on the inside of his leg that were between her teeth instead of her own lip.

“Harry,” his name leaves her mouth in a sinful whimper, thighs subconsciously opening wider as if inviting him to dive between them. She sees his cock twitch at her call, his eyes fluttering for a brief second before he’s leaning over her again, hands on the sides of her knickers.

“May I?” He requests in a whisper, smiling brightly when she moves her hands to push his down, taking her underwear with them until she too is spread out bare on his sheets. Their mouth meet again, Harry’s cock a heavy weight on her lower tummy, twitching at every soft moan that he swallows off her tongue.

“Do you have protection?” She questions, breaking their kiss. Harry freezes, and a heavy weight settles in her chest as his eyes fly open and his forehead creases in thought. After a few seconds his eyes light up with hope, leaning off the side of the bed to dig through his drawer. The little packet containing the condom is pinched between his fingers as he comes back to her, eyes squinting as he checks the date on it.

“Thank god for Niall taking the piss out of me with this, huh?” Harry says, an eager and excited lilt in his voice. Daisy giggles, pushing his floppy hair off his forehead as he opens the rubber and rolls it down his prick.

“Who’s laughing now.” She responds, fingers digging into his shoulders when the covered head of him probes at her opening. Harry cups her face with his free hand, naked chests brushing against each other, and he smiles like a boy on Christmas morning. He doesn’t push into her though, instead presses a chaste kiss to her lips.

“You still comfortable with this Daisy?” His breath is hot on her face, but soothing. And when she nods and whispers, “absolutely” she knows it’s 100% the truth. That’s all Harry needs before he’s flexing his hips forward, nudging her slick folds apart with his thick tip. The initial sting makes her flinch, a grunt leaving Harry’s clenched teeth as he she clamps around the few inches he’s managed to sink in. His forehead drops to her shoulder, arm shaking but he doesn’t rush her into taking all of him. No, instead he waits for her muscles to relax, easing up on his cock and the way her body melts into his brings tears to Harry eyes.

“You’re doing so good sweetheart,” Harry encourages, voice raspy with the effort it’s taking him to keep from bursting already. He wants to, needs to make Daisy feel good. He wants her to know that he’ll worship her for the rest of his life. “Already feel like heaven around me.”

With sweet words and tender smears of his mouth against hers, Harry finally sinks balls deep into Daisy. The feeling brings similar moans from both of them, a peaceful aura of completion settling around them. Daisy’s never felt this before. Like her body could just float up into heaven if it weren’t for Harry’s broad frame draped over her. Like he’s a limb she never knew she was missing but now that it’s here, she can’t imagine ever being empty again. She loves it, loves him.

“You’re so big Harry.” Daisy admits, bashfully meeting his gaze. Harry pants a choked moan into her face, steadying himself before pulling his hips back and slipping forward into her warmth once again.Her compliments seem to drive him, spurring him on, and she recalls how he’d melted under affection at the bakery the other day. Grinning softly, she latches her legs around his hips and lovingly runs her hands over his spine.

“Feels so bloody good,” Harry mutters, most likely talking to himself. Daisy’s chest swells with pride, gasping when the head of him nudges deep in her belly, tightening the string in her abdomen.

Attaching her lips to his jaw, Daisy breathes her own adoration. “Making me feels so good Harry, want to feel you forever.” The whimper that escapes him makes her core flutter, squeezing him tighter. Like she predicted, the compliment creates something feral in him, the pace of his thrusts picking up the slightest bit.

“Yeah? You want me to keep my cock in you all the time? Show you how fucking well I’m going to take care of you for the rest of our lives?”

The revelation that Harry’s got a dirty mouth brings her closer to the edge, whimpering out more agreements to all of his filthy promises. He drives his cock into her deeper, quick but strong ruts of his hips that stretch her open so well. After a particularly vulgar promise from Harry, a declaration that he’ll spend the remainder of the war fucking his fist to the memory of making love to her, Daisy smashes her mouth back to his, teeth clashing and tongues colliding as the string in her belly snaps. His name leaves her in a quiet chant, encouraged by his thumb reaching between them to rub at her clit and the deep rasps of “Yes Daisy, cum for me, say my name, my name....”

Her velvet heat pulsing around him sends him spiraling, filling the condom with his hot cum as his body trembles and shakes over her. Daisy encourages him as well, shyly thrusting her hips up to meet his sloppy thrusts and nibbling on his jaw. Cock still twitching in her, Harry drops all his weight so she’s basically trapped under him. Not that she minds of course. Daisy loves the feeling of holding him, petting at his damp hair and rubbing her toes over his calf soothingly. It takes Harry a minute to return to earth, lifting his head and blinking sluggishly. He looks utterly breathtaking, pink cheeks and swollen lips, gleaming eyes and dimples as he takes her mouth back with his.

Daisy never imagined she’d end up here with Harry, but she’d never want to be anywhere else now, and she supposes this was the feeling Harry was talking about when he described home. It’s not a home, it’s a person, and she’s somehow ended up with the best one.

#harry styles #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #harry styles au #dear daisy #ww2 harry #soldier harry #arranged marriage au #enemies to lovers #secret marriage #smut

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zeziliazink · 4 years

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Messages

A Drarry drabble. Also on AO3 here.

Harry took a sip of the drink in his hand and grimaced. It was a syrupy mess of a thing — shimmery, purple-pink viscous liquid, swirling in a crystalline cordial glass that caught the lights from the dance floor and refracted a million tiny rainbows onto the surface of his fingers. The cocktail tasted like a cloaking spell disguising a rotten apple. Or Umbridge, smiling at him from across her desk.

The Dreaming Pixie was packed for a Wednesday night. Out on the floor, witches and wizards were glassy-eyed and writhing, dancing to an electronic remix of a bubblegum pop song. A time-extended glitter fog charm filled the air with sparkles and the scent of cotton candy. Harry suspected the mist also released micro-doses of Euphoria potion, but they’d never been able to prove it.

When the song ended and the next began, Harry pushed aside the cloying taste in his mouth and focused his gaze toward the stage lighting.

Pale green fairy lights flashed, four times.

Yaxley.

Peach and yellow in alternating flickers.

Lestrange.

The center main spotlights fanned downward, bathing the laughing, sweaty bodies in cool blue and purple. Harry’s pulse quickened.

The North House. Tomorrow afternoon. The shipment will be there.

Harry tilted his head to the right and stretched his left shoulder. Since the last raid, he’d been shaking off the remnants of a nasty stinging hex.

With the chorus, the lights turned green again, swirling like Catherine wheels in the sparkling air.

Live cargo. Take extra backup.

A dual flash of all the lights at once signaled the message’s end. Harry pushed off the wall and headed for the door at the back of the club. As he passed near the bar, he glanced over to see Draco Malfoy serving a glowing shimmer-shot to a giggling witch.

Harry gave him a curt nod.

“Piss off, Potter,” Malfoy hollered over the pulsing beat.

I love you. Be safe.

----

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23826919

Prompt: “The less I know, the better.”

#drarry #drarry drabble #drarry fic #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry discord drabble challenge #mine #my words #intrigue and mystery #my art #secret messages oooh la la

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coffee-or-murder · 4 years

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Harvest Day

Told from the perspective of my Drakewarden/smith half elf boy as he meets one Annabeth “Lemon” Bakhuizen. He has a crush, his family embaresses him, but he’s too lovestruck to really notice. Also his drake thinks he’s silly and just wants apples.

The door to his room was thrown open, the handle striking the wall with a crack, startling him and his drake awake with displeased grunts. Aodhán hissed at the short thin figure before pushing open the window and slipping out into the dark with a grumble. He turned bleary eyes to see his father striding into the room encased in a massive green sweater, a long thick yellow scarf wrapped around his neck that barely covered his wide grin and made his long eleven ears stick out horribly, and a pile of knitwear bundled in his arms.

“Da’ what-”

“Get up Tadhgán it’s Harvest Day! We have so much to do and only a day to enjoy it!” he exclaimed as he walked to the bed and dropped the pile onto his lap. “Put those on and come out for breakfast. Aodhán’s scarf is the orange and yellow one. Make sure he wears it,” he ordered before turning and practically skipping out of his room.

“It’s not even light yet!” he yelled after him, only getting a near maniacal laugh in response. His father loved Harvest Day, clearly, and always went a little crazy every year. The Bakhuizen Estate orchards grew nearly every fruit you could bake into something, but their apple orchard was by far the largest. They had nearly every color of apple you could imagine. After they’d done their main harvest, they always opened the gates to the townspeople so they could come and pick their fill. The morning was spent picking apples and catching up with neighbors, a picnic in the orchard for lunch, more picking, and then the town held their yearly Harvest Fair. There would be dancing and music and more food than they could ever eat. Strangely enough there were never any leftovers, no one could tell you who finished off the food. Tadhgán sighed, shrugging into the dark rusty red sweater, and hanging the brown and orange scarf around his neck. The sweater was a little tight on his broad shoulders, but not enough to be a problem. Da’s finally getting the hang of knitting these things. Simple breaches and works boots were hunted down easily enough, and he ran his fingers through his blond hair to tame it. He gathered up the long scarf for his drake before walking into the kitchen. Da’ was stirring something in the pot, oatmeal most likely, and singing one of his many poems barely in tune. His poor mother was still half asleep, head resting heavily on her hand as she glared down at her eggs and sausage. Tea was cooling in a mug next to the plate, but she was clearly not awake enough to notice it yet.

“Morning Ma’,” he said quietly, chuckling as she grunted in response. As he walked past he reached out to ruffle Ma’s short dark hair, laughing as she swatted at his arm and jumped just out of reach. He’d pay for that later he knew, but it was always fun to tease her a bit when she was like this. Tadhgán opened the side door to the forge and smiled. The main forge was burning brightly, casting shadows all around the large open room and bathing Aodhán’s dark red scales in the orange light as he stared into the molten core of the forge.

“Look. They are nearly waking,” the drake rumbled as he reached a claw down and shifted one of the eggs closer to the burning core.

“I expect they’ll hatch by the end of the week. Won’t be happy about winter being right around the corner though,” he chuckled. His throat always felt a little strange when he spoke Draconic, like he’d gargled salt water wrong. Aodhán purred, or as close as a drake could get to purring, before he turned to look at him. Gold eyes quickly settled on the scarf in his arms and he sighed.

“Again?”

“Every year. You know how much Da’ loves Harvest Day,” Tadhgán sighed. The drake hissed in annoyance, but let him wind the scarf around his neck and secure it with a messy knot. He patted his friend’s side before turning back to the kitchen and joining his family at the table. They ate in silence, his mother clearly still unhappy about being woken up so early, before gathering their baskets and slings to leave. Tadhgán quickly saddled up Aodhán, the two large baskets gently tapping the drake’s sides as he walked beside him. His parents were just ahead, Da’ linking their arms together and kissing his Ma’ hand. She grunted in response, and Da’ took the hint to stay quiet until she actually woke up. Da’ was such an early riser, and so happy about it, but it always took Ma’ awhile to get going. The walk to the Bakhuizen estate wasn’t too terribly far since they were already on the outskirts of town proper, and the fall air was crisp and cool. There were a few other people walking up the road to the estate, and they waved to each other. Thankfully everyone seemed to have come to the silent agreement that it was far too early to talk, so they all enjoyed the walk to the gates. They loomed ahead, easily twice the height of Aodhán, made entirely of bright white stone and gray metal. The gates had been pushed open, and some of the family were standing just inside to greet them. They had fresh scones and who knows how many kettles full of coffee or tea or ciders set out on a massive long table. A tiefling boy and firbolg were helping a half orc woman and halfling man sort out little cloths for people to wrap their scones in. The halfling made sure everyone walking in was at least offered a drink and a scone, but waved at Ma’ instead. Tadhgán waved for her, shaking his head at the offered food as he followed his father to the orchards.

The Bakhuizen family weren’t bad people, just a little strange. Their matriarch, a very small nearly ancient halfling named Rosalind, had a strange habit of adopting seemingly random children and raising them in the estate. Some of her children or grandchildren had done the same, to the point where there were so many different races of people living behind the sprawling estate walls it was practically it’s own city. They had quite a few bakeries in different towns, though the one in their town drew the most tourist attention out of them all. They had more money then they knew what to do with thanks to their various business ventures, but with Rosalind still making all of the company's business decisions and refusing to simply give her family money without working for it, they mostly had their heads on right. Mostly. Of course some of the family was entitled and rude, but you have those people in nearly every family. The big scandal was that after Rosalind’s first husband, a local turnip farmer, passed away she took a tall elegant looking elf as her husband. They seemed very happy together though, and he would often carry her around the orchard during the harvest and feed her apples as they quietly chatted. So a little batty, but all around good people.

“I’m awake now,” his Ma’ grumbled, waving back at him before squinting up at the sunrise and rubbing her eyes. Da’ gleefully leaned up to kiss her cheek, and squeezed their linked arms before he chattered away about all of his plans for the day. His mother’s dark brown eyes simply gazed down at her exuberant husband and she smiled softly. They were a bit of an odd couple too, a human drakewarden smith and an elf writer turned househusband, but certainly not the strangest here.

“Will I get baked apples again?” Aodhán asked as he kept pace.

“I think your chances are pretty high. I can always throw an apple down to you and you can roast it yourself,” he answered. His drake rumbled, clearly pleased at the promise of the sweet treat and trotted a bit faster. The group quickly approached neat rows of immaculate apple trees, all heavy with fruit and stretching on for nearly as far as they could see. The other groups quickly broke off, heading in the direction of their favorite apples and following the helpful wooden signs staked into the ground. His family kept walking, occasionally coming upon other townsfolk or Bakhuizen family members having their own fun picking or playing chase together. A halfling woman wearing the Bakhuizen crest embroidered into her shawl was glaring angrily up into a tree, hands on her hips and a scowl marrying what could have been a pretty face.

“You get down from there right now! This is not what young ladies do!” the halfling woman screeched up into the massive apple tree. Tadhgán looked up and felt the breath leap out of his lungs. A halfling girl was in the boughs of the tree, dark chestnut hair haloed in the sunrise. Large dark green eyes sparkled with mischief as she plucked another bright yellow apple and slipped it into the nearly full sling across her chest. She grinned, full lips curling up as she stared defiantly down at the woman.

“Clearly it is, since I am in fact doing it and still a young lady,” the girl said. The wind caught her long thick braid, the yellow ribbon holding the strands together fluttering like a banner. Gods she was beautiful. His heart was pounding, and Aodhán rumbled, questioning his rider’s sudden nerves.

“Listen to your mother and get down here before you fall!” the woman snapped. She stomped her foot for emphasis, but the girl looked entirely unimpressed. Her gaze suddenly met his and what little air he managed to get back was gone again as her grin widened.

“You there! Will you help a lady down?” she called out to him. His tongue suddenly felt too heavy to move and he nodded instead, taking a step towards her.

“Should we find you a ladder?” Da’ called up. She started to walk on a thick branch towards Tadhgán and shook her head. Her pants were nearly skin tight, showing off the curve of her thigh even as the large white shirt she wore covered the rest of her body. The sun still shone through the white fabric, showing just a hint of the gentle dip of her waist. She had no shoes. How had she climbed up with no shoes? Or ladder?

“You look pretty strong. Think you could catch me?” she asked instead, leaning over slightly to look at him with her head cocked. Her mother screeched something, he wasn’t really listening to be honest, and he nodded again. She couldn’t have been more than three feet tall after all, and he was nearly twice that. He’d worked in the forge and trained as a drakewarden since he could walk, so he certainly had the muscle mass to carry something as small as her. Still, his heart nearly leapt out of his chest when she simply fell off the branch towards him. He lurched forwards, catching her in his arms and holding her close for a moment. Apples. She smelled like apples and lemons and something baking. “Excellent job sir,” she said, patting his forearm with her tiny hand. She was so tiny, and shockingly warm against the chill.

“No problem,” he mumbled, leaning over to put her on the ground. His hands flexed at his sides as she dusted her shirt off and beamed up at him.

“Thank you for catching me. My name is Annabeth Bakhouzin, but you are very much welcome to call me Lemon,” she said with a small curtsy. She used the billowing fabric of her tunic as a skirt when she curtsied. He gulped, trying to swallow around the lump that suddenly formed in his throat. Aodhán cackled behind him, nudging his back and grunting for him to get it together.

“Ah I’m Tadhgán McGowan at your service Miss. Lemon, the smith’s son,” he stuttered. She cocked her head to the side -gods her eyes were such a dark green he could barely make out her iris- and scrunched up her nose a bit.

“I’m sorry your accent is a little hard for me. Your name is Tadhgán correct? Like tea-gon?” she asked, confused. He gulped, and nodded. Clearly he was not up to speaking. She smiled again, before turning around to face her mother, her braid swinging at the motion. “There. Mr. Tadhgán helped me out of the tree, and now I am solidly on the ground again. If you’ll excuse me, I have a new recipe to test with these lovely apples,” she said before looking back at him and winking. “If you come by the party tonight I’ll be sure to save you a couple turnovers. My new recipe is going to win the baking contest for sure.”

“He’ll be there lass, don’t worry. He’s an excellent dancer too,” Ma’ called out, smirking at her son as Da’ held back his laughter behind his hand. Lemon beamed at his Ma’ and nodded, waving at them as she ran off, closely followed by her still screeching mother. He watched her run away, the yellow ribbon streaming behind her, and he could barely catch his breath.

“I remember the first time I met your mother,” Da’ sighed dreamily from beside Ma’. “Harvest Day is the best day of the year. It’s so romantic. Why when I met your mother I-.”

“Don’t tease the boy. He’s embarrassed enough,” Ma’ chuckled before leading Da’ on deeper into the orchard. Aodhán rumbled behind him, pushing his head into his back to get him moving again. Maybe Harvest Day was worth getting up before the light for, especially if he got to see Miss. Lemon again. Maybe later they’d need an extra hand around the estate?

#dnd lemon #dnd tadhgan #dnd story

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imagine-organization-xiii · 4 years

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you did favorite yankee candle scents a long time ago so maybe their fav bath and body works candle scents? or their favorite b&bw body wash scents - OR BOTH if you're feeling adventurous uwu

You can find the Yankee Candle ask here!

this ask is right up my alley and i will absolutely do a separate post with the body wash scents because i definitely don’t have an obsession with bath and body works

I was going to make this an image headcanon but the candles look pretty much the same, so I just put what the scents are. I hope you enjoy!

oOoOo

Xemnas - Mahogany Teakwood - Rich Mahogany Wood, Black Teakwood, Iced Lavender, and Dark Oak

Xigbar - Black Tie - Green Sage, Sandalwood, and Tonka Bean

Xaldin - Blueberry Pie - Juicy Blueberries, Flaky Crust, and Sugar Crystals

Vexen - White Caramel Cold Brew - Cold Brew Coffee, Vanilla Sweet Cream, and Warm Caramel Drizzle

Lexaeus - Sun-Drenched Linen - Cool Cotton, Crisp Apple, and Soft Musk

Zexion - Vanilla Chai Latte - Steamed Coconut Milk, Chai Spices, Vanilla Bean, and Black Tea

Saix - Ocean Driftwood - Beachside Oak, Sea-Washed Mahogany, Ocean Lavender

Axel - Daydream - Fresh Raspberries, Sparkling Pear, and Pink Lily Petals

Demyx - Hibiscus Waterfalls - Tropical Hibiscus, Sweet Peach Nectar, and Fresh Waterfall Mist

Luxord - Marble Toffee - Toasted Coconut, Brown Sugar Glaze, and White Chocolate Chips

Marluxia - Rose Water and Ivy - Spring Musk, Soft Rose Petals, and Rain-Kissed Ivy

Larxene - Island Daydream - Juicy Pineapple, Tangy Mango, Sugarcane, and Coconut Water

Roxas - Cinnamon Sugared Donut - Fresh Ground Cinnamon, Sugar Crystals, and Tahitian Vanilla Bean

Xion - Watermelon Lemonade - Watermelon Ice, Sparkling Water, and Meyer Lemon

#organization xiii headcanon #kingdom hearts headcanon

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artsoupsoupart · 5 years

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Chrave Fic: A Night In

Title: A Night In

Pairing: Raven and Chelsea

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters or ideas to That’s so Raven or Raven’s Home.

A/N: I have no shame for writing this lol. This not my first fic ever, but my first time writing something in a LONG time. I wanted to have this up on Valentine's Day, but I never make the deadlines I set for myself lol. I've recently started to kinda ship these two bc of some posts i saw on tumblr and this story came from it. Also, I’m lanassupport group on here, but on Ao3 I’m artsoupsoupart.... it’ll probably always be like that.

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22822261

It’s not too often that they get nights like this, where the house is quiet, candle light bouncing off the walls, smooth jazz playing on the stereo, utter peace and serenity. The kids, all four, are gone for the weekend on a school trip to Washington D.C., and while there is a certain sadness about their apartment not being filled with the sounds of video games being played or practiced steps for a music video, the two moms can’t help but feel absolutely relaxed and content.

Raven and Chelsea make their way to the kitchen hand in hand, both clad in satin pajamas after an eventful bubble bath. Chelsea’s emerald green teddy pairs well against her fair skin and ember hair while Raven dons a two piece pants set, in a fabulous blush pink and gold pattern.

They sit down at the moveable island in the middle of their kitchen where their dessert is spread out. They had moved the stools from the partition that separates the living room from the kitchen in order to feel a bit closer to each other. Chelsea’s the first the break into a marvelous smile and she nudges Raven with her shoulder. She receives a small chuckle from the other woman and a squeeze of her hand.

“Wow, Rae, I think I could get used to this.”

“Only for you. Though, the kids are definitely going to be back sooner than we expect.”

The redhead grimaces a little, a frown forming on her face. “Yeah!”

“You miss them, don’t you?”

“No, no, no!” Her eyes widen as she fibs. “Psh... we’ve been so relaxed and been able to focus on each other. It’s.... great.”

Raven smirks at her best friend, lips pursing. “But you miss them.”

“Oh God, yes, Rae!” The two break out into a laugh. Chelsea continues. “So.... what have you prepared for me now?”

This was all Raven’s doing, the ambiance, the dinner, the hot bubble bath. It’s been her motivation to show Chelsea how much she truly cares for her. She felt as though, for so long, she didn’t really value Chelsea’s company or even the work that she does around the house. Raven vowed to herself and to any God that may have been listening at the time, that she would never take Chelsea for granted, never wonder when she’d finally not burn a meal, when she’d contribute to the rent, because the redhead delivered so much more.

She delivered love and compassion, a dizziness that only Chelsea Daniels-turned-Grayson could ever produce. It was beautiful. There were moments, whether with the children or not, that Chelsea brought an entirely different view to whatever Raven or the kids were going through.

“Well, we first have a mini-sweet treat.”

The dark-haired beauty brought forth a plate of toasted bread and sweet apple jam. She took a small slice with a scoop on it and held it up to rosy lips. Chelsea took a bite with a soft hum and Raven couldn’t help but follow her lead. The moan was beautiful, almost intoxicating to the point where she needed more.

“That’s delicious! What is it?” she asked. Raven told her, let her know exactly where she brought the bread and jam and the brand name. Her eyes never left Chelsea’s face though. They focused on the way dark eyelashes fluttered, the way her pink tongue poked out to capture the remaining jam on her list. All Raven felt was lust.

“Did you make this bread yourself?”

It’s a beat before she responds, still lost in her own images in her mind. “Mom taught me. It’s a special recipe that doesn’t need a lot of time for the bread to rise”

“Perfect for a late-night snack” Chelsea grins as she sees a smirk pull at the corners of her brunette lover’s mouth. Raven turns to her then she gives her a light but teasing kiss to the lips.

“You didn’t have to go through so much trouble to impress me, you know?” the redhead smiles, millimeters away from another kiss waiting for her on plump lips.

“It was no trouble. Plus, you deserve the best of the best. The finest jam and the most delicious bread.” Raven moves to move the dessert that had been baking from the oven to cool.

Chelsea responded after taking a deep whiff of the scent that surrounded her. “That smells good.”

The brunette looks up from inspecting the pie, dipping her finger in it briefly after it had cooled a bit. “Just about ready. Do you want a taste?”

Chelsea leans over and captures the covered finger between her lips. She hums as she pulls away, making sure to give it a small suck when she reaches the tip.

“Mmm… that’s amazing. What’s your secret?”

“Love?”

“Aw, Rae! Good answer.”

Raven smiles at her as she removes the pie from its pan to cool better on the rack. She takes this moment to pour them both a glass of wine.

“We are surrounded by kids and work 24/7. It’s amazing and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, but it does tend to mean that our moments are shared with others.” Chelsea hums in agreement, her eyes sparkling with affection that is only reserved for the raven-haired beauty in front of her. “I also like doing this for you myself… especially since you do so much.”

“It’s so sweet of you, Rae.”

Chelsea leans over and kisses her. It’s so soft yet holds so much passion behind it. If it weren’t for the dessert before them, Raven would carry her off to their bedroom immediately. Instead she returns the kiss, and another, and another, then licks her lips as she pulls away. Raven moves to plate a piece of pie and a dollop of vanilla. She puts it before her love and hands her a spoon. Chelsea grins wide and does a small happy dance as she scoops up the dessert. She raises it to her lips and takes the bite, gentle brown eyes fluttering close as the taste mixes and mingles on her tongue. She hums softly and Raven simply looks on at her.

“I hope I’m not enjoying this alone,” she smirks.

“Never, just enjoying the view.” Raven returns the smirk, mimicking Chelsea’s earlier words and picks up her spoon.

The duo sits and talks as they polish off their dessert and wine, even sneaking another scoop of ice cream to share. They exchange kisses and spoonfuls of the cold treat. The conversation continues on and on, flirty little jokes being passed between the two. Their dessert is long gone, two glasses, a bowl and two spoons forgotten in the small space between them as they get lost in each other’s lips. The kiss is soft, firm, but just as passionate as any other one they’ve had. It isn’t until Raven pulls away that they realize they’re still in the kitchen.

“We should move this somewhere more comfortable.” Chelsea smiles brightly, lip caught between her lips as she winks.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Raven takes a moment to deposit their empty dishes in the sink, that was tomorrow’s problem, and put away the leftover ice cream so that is doesn’t melt. She rounds back around to her best friend and takes her hand, leading her to their bedroom.

They barely make it, lips locking just as the door opens and they stumble in. Raven kicks it closed with her foot and walks the redhead back to the bed where they fall into a fit of giggles. Hazel eyes meet brown and Raven’s hands find Chelsea’s waist while the other woman’s push a lock of ebony hair behind her ear. They look at each other for a moment, the briefest of seconds before capturing the others lips all over again, this time with a renewed fever.

Raven’s hands make their way under the Chelsea’s night gown, fingertips dipping against unusually warm skin (the woman was usually freezing cold). She gives her waist a light squeeze before grabbing the fabric in her hands and pulling it upward. Chelsea shifts, assisting in getting the pesky clothing off. Her lips reconnect back to her love’s, moving to her chin then down her neck. She focuses on a spot, just above Raven’s collarbone, eliciting a low moan from the brunette. Pink lips smile against skin as she makes her way lower and lower, removing pants to find nothing underneath (a sight that has her gasping), but skipping over where Raven wanted her most.

The brunette whimpers in protest. “Tease,” she breathes out.

Chelsea frowns playfully at that, clicks her tongue and takes a swipe of her girlfriend’s warm center. It elicits the exact response she wants, a slightly loud whisper and a small twitch. She does it again, slower this time, and again, and again until Raven is pent up, hips desperately rolling for more friction. Chelsea tosses her hair over her should and she props herself up on one forearm, sending a dazzling smile up to Raven. She holds up two fingers to brown lips and Raven follows her silent directions, wetting the digits with her mouth.

“Good girl, Rae,” the redhead whispers as she slides slim fingers into her girlfriend, her pace torturously slow.

Raven makes the comment again and her girlfriend throws her a look saying Patience, Rae. She doesn’t make her wait too long as she increases the speed of her fingers, curls them upwards, pressing them at just the right angle. Raven moves with her, her own breathing becoming rapid. She’s on the brink of her orgasm, Chelsea can feel it, has learned her body so well in the past two years. Pink lips attach themselves to a throbbing clit and sucks to the beat of her heart and Raven’s hips roll against her mouth. Moans and gasps and whimpers fill the air. The brunette grabs at the sheets, grunts, pleads, and Chelsea has no problem giving her exactly what she wants. Her body tenses and she gasps, losing control of herself as she releases.

Chelsea lets her ride out her orgasm, smiling and humming as she massages her girlfriend down. She places a lasting kiss to her core before feeling hands pull her upwards. Raven instantly finds her; hands raising to cup her face and smash their lips together. The taste of herself on Chelsea’s lips make her hum hungrily. She turns them so that they’re on their sides, a single hand reaching to stroke down a fair leg to toss over her hip. They’re a tangle of legs and kiss, of arms and caresses. She wedges her hand in the small space between them and feels just how ready Chelsea is, how she always is when she starts them off.

Had they not been in the position they were, Raven would have placed persistent kisses to the redhead’s core. Tangled together, she simply stokes at her girlfriend’s pussy, the wet heat causing her to let out a moan of her own. It’s intoxicating, she’s intoxicating. She moves her hand back and forth back and forth, rubbing, caressing, stroking. She captures Chelsea’s swollen bud between her fingers and circles it gently, adding pressure when she hears the grunt that comes from the woman against her. Her lips take Chelsea’s and she kisses her while moving her own hips in time with her fingers. It is when she dips two then three fingers into her warm center that she gets the loud groan she’s been dying to hear all night. It’s her favorite sound, one that spurs her on, gives her the fever she so desperately desires. Chelsea herself gets her bearings and snakes her hand between the two of them.

“With me,” is all the redhead can grunt out.

Raven had been rocking against her and hadn’t been expecting the joining of her love. She accepted slim fingers willingly, nods her head as she tips the redhead’s chin up to connect her lips to a pulsing pressure point in her neck. The moans coming from the other woman have her wetter than ever. Stroke after stroke after stroke has both women clinging to each other, gasping, whining, moaning, cursing into the air between them as they both tip over the edges of their orgasms.

They bring each other down, their breaths slowing and the lethargy starting to set in. Brown eyes meet hazel in the pale light of the moon. Smiles are exchanged, kisses too, with a side of soft caresses and murmured I love you’s. Hands find themselves around the other woman in stead of between them as they slight chill of the room starts to replace the heat of their lovemaking. They move under the covers and reconnect; final kisses being placed to plumped lips as they drift off to sleep.

When morning comes, the sun beams down on the duo. Chelsea tries to hide from it by burrowing into Raven’s back, having shifted their position during the night. The brunette murmurs they should get up, the kids will be at the school soon, they have to pick them up. All Chelsea does is groans, never a morning person, choosing to stay in bed for five more minutes.

The couple finally gets out of bed and ready for the day. Raven showers first, stating that if they did together, they’d be late. While she’s occupied Chelsea makes the bed, straightens up, cleans up the kitchen from the night before, putting things back in order. She then takes over the restroom, in her own process of getting ready.

They figure they’ll get breakfast with the kids so the forego making it themselves and head out the door to the school. Still high on their weekend alone, they trade kisses until Chelsea notices the large charter bus pull into the parking lot. Raven pops the trunk and the two of them get out to greet their children.

It’s a rush, a rapid change from the calm from the past two days but they smile anyway as Booker already starts recounting the weekend, help the kids put their bags in the trunk. The four of them squish into the back seat and Raven and Chelsea return to their front. They share a look before pulling out of the parking lot and making their way back to the apartment, back to normal.

#raven x chelsea #chelsea daniels #raven baxter #chrave #raven's home #that's so raven #ravens home #thats so raven #fic

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