#did art opened my window cleaned my fans did my laundry changed my bedding and yet i don’t get to enjoy it bc doing all those things makes

[milo-is-rambling]

Me when my back hurts and I’m miserable but at least I did my laundry and changed my sheets

[cornfarm]

summertime cicadas

saiki kusuo x reader

word count: 1.6k

synopsis: you go to saiki’s place to play some video games. saiki learns a bit about your dirty laundry.

cw: suggestions of past sexual abuse. it’s not explicitly stated but it’s heavily implied.

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

reader is gender neutral!

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notes:

i’ve had this sitting in my drafts for a few weeks now, but i was never happy with it.

it’s implied that you and saiki are in week 2-4 of dating;;;

i have some other stuff in the works but im tired so notes r boring today

enjoy waaaaaa

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When Saiki and you were left alone together, the tension that hung in the air was fun and playful. Coy glances, the heart jittering brushes of skin, and the almost knowing smiles you two would shoot each other. This time around, it was heavy, and it weighed hefty on both your shoulders.

It was your first time over at his place since you had begun dating.

You had texted him: can i come over? i bought a new game i wanna play it with u

He was very happy you decided to make the first move, he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. 

Immediately, the “devlivered” at the corner of your text changed to “read”. He hastily typed back: Sure, let me know when you’re here. My parents aren’t home.

You saw letters on your screen, but you squinted your eyes shut upon them entering your field of vision. You had thrown your phone across the room, too nervous to look at his response. Tentatively picking it up, your heart nearly exploded at his words. You quickly respond: okay! be there soon :)

Saiki suddenly felt a bit on edge, realization finally striking him that you were about to be in his presence. In his bedroom. Alone. 

Saiki Kusuo never really felt things too intensely, so to feel it strike at his heart and stomach was almost a bit too much for his liking. 

Saiki wound up sitting patiently at the dining room table, using his telekensis to pick things up, rearrange ornaments and fine china, and clean up trash. The last thing he wants is you coming over when the place is a mess.

The doorbell rang, not that he needed it to know you were here. Beckoning you in, you pull out a small disc box from your bag. 

“I heard really good reviews from it. I was interested in it since I liked the art style but I wanted to wait until people played it and reviews came out before I committed.”

He takes it from your hands to inspect it, “I’m not super interested in recent games, I like older ones a bit more. Indie ones too. I’ve heard that the gameplay is really compelling.”

“That’s okay, we can still play together, right?” You almost look a bit nervous. Saiki gnawed at the inside of his lip.

“Sure,” you don’t look satisfied, “I don’t mind, doing things with you is nice.”

The content expression on your face satisfies him. You follow him upstairs.

Then the tension settles. You’re so close, the pleasant floral scent from your detergent lingering where you walk. He peers behind you as you take in his room: simple, clean, minimalistic. It’s painfully in character. You smile, flopping face down on his bed.

“I’ve only ever been here with everyone else, it was so lively then, but it’s so different when it’s quiet!” You situate yourself so you’re sitting at the edge of his bed, legs dangling off the side.

“It’s the same room.”

“Yeah but, now it’s just me and you.”

“I suppose so.”

You watch as he peers to the wall, a bit away from you.

“What, you’re not nervous are you? Do I make you, THE Saiki Kusuo nervous?”

He clicks his tongue, and begins stalking towards you. He stops right in front of you, shins nearly touching the mattress of his bed. He looks down, expression deadpanned like usual. Perhaps thats precisely why you got so flustered. Your hands coming to clasp politely in your lap, you look up at him, determined to hold eye contact.

“Mhm,” he smirks, “you do. What will you do about it?”

He watches as your lips part into a small ‘o’, before you turn your head down and begin to pout. He’ll spare you this time. The small proximity between you settles in; he should get out of here, nervousness is finally catching up, it’s a bit too much for him to handle. For such a cocky one-liner, he really can’t keep it together. He exits his room for a moment with a brief “wait here”.

He hears you let out a sigh down the hall. Taking the chance to inspect his belongings, you peer under his bed, nothing suspicious there, before making your way to his desk. There’s his computer, a nice leather desk chair, a lamp, and a small empty mug that holds pens, pencils, and highlighters. You thumb through them.

He re-enters his room, quietly opening the door, but just enough so where you hear. Outstreching his arm, he hands you a bottle of iced tea.

“This is,” inspecting the label, “you don’t usually drink these, right?”

Saiki stays quiet.

“So you got it for me? You remembered I liked it?” 

He nods.

You beam at him, mutter your gratitude, and pull out the games box.

Placing the disc onto the disc reader, and pushing it in, you start up the game, and watch the intro animation. 

“Yeah, the graphics are really nice,” he comments.

You adjust yourself, sitting on top a cushion on the floor, he moves a bit closer. 

Skipping though dialog, tutorials, and the first few levels of the game, Saiki controller finally begins responding. 

“I’m sorry, I thought the multiplayer feature would be available from the start.”

“It’s okay, you can pick first”

“Hmm...” you pause, brows furrowing in focus as you look through the different player avatar options. Finally, you turn to him and smile, “this one! Your turn.”

Saiki bites at the inside of his lip, again, moving his thumb over the joystick, he picks his avatar.

It’s nice, it’s quiet, the sound of cicada’s chirping outside his bedroom window, and the soft hum of his fan are gentle. Neither of you are talking about grand things like aspirations and inhibitions, but you didn’t have to. The soft, casual tone of conversation is something Saiki’s making sure to cherish. The game’s fun, Saiki is enjoying himself, he enjoys you. 

But tension still looms heavy overhead. You aren’t the only one who was thinking about it, how close you two were, how your elbows kept bumping, the small,and the way you both tried to get just a millimeter closer.

Saiki knew what you wanted, but he couldn’t pull himself to take initiative. Why? Was nervousness just another curse set out to plague him?

He’s reading your mind, he knows without a doubt you want to, so why is he so nervous to reach out and touch you? He wants to run away.

“Saiki?”

Your voice broke his thoughts, he turns to you. “Are you okay?”

He does it without thinking, slowly placing the controller down and putting his palms on your shoulders. 

“I’m just not used to this,” he finally says, “like, dating and all that.”

You wrap your fingers around his wrists, “that’s okay, I’ve never dated anyone either, we can just take it slow. We have time.” You reassure, “I’m nervous too,” voice smaller than before. He lifts his hands off, hovering them in front of you, debating on where he should put them. Should he put them back on your shoulders, or would that be weird? Maybe it’s okay if he takes your hands into his, but right now your hands are...

His vision finally focuses, and he looks at your hands, defensively positioned in front of your chest with your palms facing him. You’re looking at him with a half smile, but your brows are pursed down. You’re watching him very carefully.

Your thoughts still, pausing until he moves again, taking your hands in his own. He’s confused, why do you look so skittish?

You look visibily confused that he takes your hands. He’s granted one thought:

He’s not gonna do anything, see? He’s just holding my hands, that’s it. He’s not gonna do anything.

Do what? What do you mean? Do what?

“What do you mean?” He blurts out, voice ringing through your head.

Astonishment paints your face. Shit, you didn’t think you said anything out loud. Could he read your mind? He chooses not to say anything.

You shake your arms, he retracts his hands.

“I’ve just had bad experiences with people in the past, I got nervous, that’s all. I’m sorry.”

Oh. Your internal dialog isn’t as pleasant as the words you choose to say. 

“Maybe I’ll tell you about it more in the future,” you still have the strength to smile at him?

He reaches out to touch you again, but never connecting. He hesitates this time, fingers hovering over your forearm. 

“I’m not really interested in that sort of stuff. I wouldn’t do that to you. I won’t do that to you,” he corrects.

With a smile pained with melancholy, you shift yourself forward, wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your face into his shoulder, legs finding their way between his. He wastes no time wrapping his own arms around your back, pressing your chest closer to his own. Your hearts pound against each other, breathing syncing as you both exhale a sigh. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know,” your voice is muffled. 

You stay like that for a few moments. Cicada’s chirping, fan blowing, there’s nothing to say- the silence is comforting in it’s own way.

You finally pull away from him, voice much brighter, “but I’m not ready to kiss you yet, I think my heart would explode!” He flushes red. Adjusting to sit back onto the cushion, you lean your weight onto his side. He tension has finally settled, and Saiki sighs contently. 

Saiki only uses his powers in ways to convinience himself. Fortunately, keeping you safe was more than convinient to him: it was the bare minimum- an absolute necessity. 

As soon as you leave, he’ll find the bastards that did it. 

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hi!! I was wondering if maybe you could write a Wade x plus size reader? Maybe she’s an ex pro thief and gets put with him for a mission or smth?? I got no idea man just have fun with it aye

Thank you for the request!!!!! Sorry for the wait!

I wasn't sure if you wanted it to be dirty or not so I sectioned that part off in case it's not what you're looking for :)

You are my first ever request! So, thank you, thank you, thank you, and I hope you enjoy it <3

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Thieving, being exceptionally attractive while doing it. Wade on his best behaviour, Smut is sectioned off.

You haven't accepted a mission in 4 years.

You got out of the business and left those “friends” and “friend circles” behind you after you scored your dream internship. 4 years and you were running your own team and writing a semi successful blog. It was a quiet life, and you enjoyed it immensely. You liked your team members, and you felt they found you a fair and caring boss. Your cat Mr. Sparkles was a healthy weight and had finally committed to using the litter box.

You don't know why you answered when he called you, you don’t know why you agreed to such fuckery. But here you were pulling out a familiar black box out of the bottom of your cluttered closet. You picked it up and placed it on your bed. The dark colour contrasted with your bright and colourful décor. Something you found oddly reflective, once you moved on from that part of your life nothing was dark. Everything in your apartment was covered by color and patterns that made you happy.

You opened the box. You and Mr. Sparkles looked at the contents like there was a wild octopus about to come flying out of it.

“It was the right thing to do.” You said out loud. “And it's going to pay well.”

Pulling the tight outfit over your curves felt better than you thought it would. You figured that it would cause you panic or anxiety. Instead you felt a wave of confidence looking yourself over in the mirror that hung on the back of your bedroom door. Normally you were covered in bright flowy clothes, that's what you liked. Your whole life was built upon being invisible since you were little. Now that you were in charge every day was a celebration in its own way. However this made you feel sexy, the outfit was sleek and left nothing to the imagination. Pulling your long hair into a tight french braid you were ready to get out there and do some thieving.

You kissed Mr. Sparkles and gave your aloe vera plant a light touch on your way out the window. It was a hot summer night and the air was muggy. These were your favorite kinds of nights to sit out on the fire escape, have some drinks, read books, and watch the city. It was lonely, but enjoyable nonetheless.

You got up to the roof and plotted your course to the impossible house. You misstepped a couple of times before falling into your usual rhythm. You contemplated whether you were doing this because the small piece of art should be with the family it belongs too. Or if you were doing this because you had some kind of Ocean’s 11 complex that kept you hungry for such challenges. It was an impossible place to break into, the floor of the old house containing the art work was covered with laser security. A piece of knowledge that should make your stomach flip, but only makes your heart feel funny.

You got yourself into position on the roof of the low building that was across the street, you took a few minutes to survey and eventually came to the conclusion that conditions were perfect. You made your way to the 3rd floor balcony. You knew of the owner’s, an awfully cruel man and his lover. They were asleep on the 5th floor of the house. Well, city mansion? Whatever, the point is it didn't feel like a home, it felt like something a royal family would keep when they came to visit. Lots of expensive art and velvet curtains. Massive gold and crystal chandeliers hung from mirrored ceilings framed with fancy crown molding. You did your research in the few hours you had after the job request had come in, there was a - *insert super fancy techno security laser system name here.* And it was said to be unbeatable. No gymnast or other cat-like thief had been able to tango with it. You had been challenged by its precursors but had got out of the game by the time this puppy had made it out on the market.

You picked the lock on the double doors, and slid past the heavy curtains and disabled the basic alarm system for the floor. Surveying the area you saw the lasers slowly dancing like it was a Pink Floyd tribute at the local planetarium. (something you attend regularly) You took a deep breath and got ready to disco your way across the floor to the small framed painting of a sun set. You put a headphone in and set the song *put on a song you would rob a bank to*. You began the journey. People often felt that your size and shape made you incompetent or ungraceful. You learned early on in life not to listen to stupid people say stupid things. You were the best, perhaps because you weren't afraid to look stupid or ridiculous. You bended and snapped, ducked and dodged, twirled and flipped. And just like that you reached your target. The second you lifted it off the wall, the lasers stopped. You pulled your knife and twirled around ready for a fight. What you saw was not what you expected, across the room none other than Wade freaking Wilson was looking at you.. Normally you hated being stared at like that, but he was a “friend” you found particularly challenging to leave behind. The whites of his mask were wide. After making a whole bunch of strange gestures with his hands, he held up a finger motioning you to be quiet. He disappeared towards what you figured would be the staircase going up to the next floor. If he gave you a clear shot at an exit you knew he had trouble with him. So you took your out.

You got back up on the rooftop across the street, you grabbed the bag you left there and secured the painting. You pulled out a large black piece of cotton and tossed it around your shoulders like a shall. This made your outfit look less stealth and more passion for leather/night out on the town. Making your way down the fire escape on the side of the building you saw the target house explode.

I guess Wade hasn't changed any.

You picked up the pace feeling anxious to get to Sister Margrets. Making your way through the city unnoticed, you went into the shitty establishment through the alleyway door. You wasted no time moving through the hallway into the servers entrance spitting you out behind the bar. You kept by the entrance which kept you out of sight, you didn't want to see any more friends tonight. Weasel jumped when he turned around and saw you there looming in the shadows, spilling the drink he had just made.

“Fuck” He quickly remade the drink then moved back to where you were standing. He had a large envelope of cash for which you handed him the back pack. You felt slightly relieved.

“Hey I know you moved on, but thanks for this.”

“No problem”

You turned around and went out the way you came in. Opening the door that leads back to the alley way, you notice a very large and slightly singed body blocking your exit.

“Stay for a drink?” His voice caused something in you to stir. Something you were not going to explore.

“Sorry Wade but no can do” You pushed past him and began walking down the street.

“Pretty pleaseeeee” he said with a sing song voice. You tried not to smile. He caught up to you so he was walking beside you. “If your not a big drinker anymore we could go for diner, tacos!, Sushi, chicken nuggets, you always loved a good chicken nugget” You tuned him out as he kept chattering a list of every food he could remember eating together. You had to figure out somewhere to go as you weren't leading him back to your apartment. Going in random directions, he spoke up.

“I know you live on *Insert cute street name here*”

“What the fuck Wilson?”

“Well you disappeared and I wanted to make sure you weren't being unalived. This means if we head back to yours we can do take out and homemade drinks, which in my opinion is much better anyway. I make the best margaritas in the city.”

You started the walk back towards your apartment. Trying desperately to come up with a way to leave him at the front of the building. The thought of him in your very personal, very colourful, even bordering on childish apartment made you unbelievably anxious. Every time you looked over at his slightly charred body you couldn't help a strange feeling welling up inside you. You got to the front door to the building and turned to look up at him. There was a long pause as you struggled for words.

“It's alright. It was a nice walk.” You could hear the layers of sadness underneath his tone. You were going to tell him that it was a nice walk and that maybe one day when things were better for you they could get that drink. Then you were going to threaten him into keeping everything a secret.

“I don't have stuff for margaritas.” The wrong words left your mouth but for a fleeting moment you actually didn't want him to leave.

“Are you sure?” Hey sounded very serious which caught you off guard and confused you a little.

“Yeah, normally I just drink stuff out of a can” You were terrible at mixing drinks, they were always way too sweet and strong and lead to trouble. Wade gave a big laugh. “Are you okay to pick up the stuff if I get changed?”

“You betcha.” He did a twirl, blew you a kiss, then headed down the street.

You dashed up to your apartment and started to hide your more personal stuff. Grabbing an armful of clean laundry off the couch, tossing it into an empty bin in the closet. You were so busy trying to hide your stuffed animals and random fan art, that you didn't notice him standing in the fire escape landing looking at you from the large open window.

“Damn. This was not what I was expecting.” He said, sounding surprised. “This isn't what your old place looked like at all”

“Uh” Your face got hot and you refused to look at him. “I ah don't have people over so um yeah. You can go now.”

“Nonononononono. This is a huge bit of progress from everything being varying shades of grey and uncomfortable.” Wade took the place in as he made his way to your kitchen. Placing the big brown bags on the counter top, and sliding the blender out from against the bright backsplash.

"Uh I'm going to get cleaned up. Help yourself to everything." You ran into the bathroom and freshened up and were very grateful to be out of the leather and into your summer pj's. They were more on the revealing side but you never found Wade the type to care or be creepy.

Coming out you found him very comfortable whirling around the kitchen. It looked like he had made a giant frying pan of pad thai and the blender was full. Turning around to see you he picked you up and sat you on the counter top like you were nothing more than a bottle of the many sauces he currently had out. He handed you one of your favorite rainbow glasses filled with margarita. Your brain was still trying to calm down from him picking you up like that.

"Thanks" you said with an even redder face.

"No problem, hot stuff" he divided the food into two plates, you led him out to sit on the fire escape with you. It was a sacred space, it felt weird to be there with a real live person. After the most delicious plate of food ever, many drinks, and laughs about the good old days things quieted down leaving a thick tension between the two of you. You realized you owed him an apology of sorts.

"Wade, I'm sorry I didn't give you a proper goodbye. I just had a life of running and I couldn't risk anyone fucking me over again."

"It's alright babe. I understand why you did it." His voice was low and sad and it made your heart hurt. You didn't want the night to end.

"Thanks for keeping my place here a secret."

"No problem. Do you think mayyybe now that I know about your situation we could do this again sometime?"

"You have no idea how nice that would be." You really meant it having him around was the most fun you'd had in a very long time. You didn't have to pretend or beat around the bush about anything with Wade. Nothing was too dark or silly or messed up.

"Well I guess this is my cue." He made to stand up but you grabbed his knee without thinking.

"Uh if you want to. You could also stay for a while." He turned his head to the side, bright eyes looking you over. "You could take a shower and I've definitely got a shirt and some boxers I could lend you." His eyes got wider. "They're mine. They're really…. comfy…" you would never understand how he made you so embarrassed.

"Uh, not sure about that… it just…" he motioned to the rest of his body.

"I've seen your face. It won't bother me" you looked up at him with empathetic eyes, part of you hoping that maybe they came across as bedroom eyes. You gave yourself a mental slap.

"If you're uncomfortable, that's okay too." You said, giving him a kind smile. You could tell there was an internal battle. So you gave him a minute.

"Alright that sounds nice. It's a fucking mess under here tho."

You went into your bathroom and found your gentlest scent free soap and a soft towel. Then into your room to find a giant t-shirt and your biggest pair of boxer shorts.

You put it into a nice pile in the bathroom.

"Okay there's some nice soap, it's natural scent free, made of angel's tears or some shit and a clean towel and clothes in there for you."

Wade shifted around you into the bathroom. "Thanks"

You flopped onto your bed and looked up at your glow star collection that littered the ceiling. You heard the water start running and you closed your eyes. Until your herd some very loud and off key Britney Spears. You couldn't help but laugh. Soon enough he was out and flopped onto the bed next to you.

"Man this is the best sleepover ever."

"If this has been your best sleepover with a chick I feel sorry for you. And her." You joked.

"Sorry enough for a pity cuddle." You know what the look he gave you meant. He was testing the waters to see what kind of night this was gonna be. You couldn't help but feel the need to challenge it.

"We could cuddle… or we could do other stuff then cuddle." You'd thought of all the reasons this was a bad idea. But voices weren't loud enough over the sound of your heart beating. He leaned in closer, fingers brushing your cheek.

"You sure that's not a margaritas talking?"

"Very sure." You said eyes locked with his.

"Why now?" It was a good question. One you had to think about.

"I don't think I ever was really myself. Like I was as much of myself as I could be while hurting that much. Now I'm happy and I enjoy things differently"

"Hmmm I noticed that. I think I got to know you more in the past few hours than I had when we were friends. You actually laugh now. At jokes and not just crazy like when things are exploding" he moved his hand to run through your hair and you couldn't hold back a soft moan. It had been so very long since someone had touched you.

You felt his lips press into your forehead. You'd thought about Wade before but he was in a relationship, then she died, and Wade wasn't himself for a long time. You'd figured if you were something he wanted he'd make it clear considering the dude flirted with everyone. You'd always had a secret fear that maybe you went his type. Vanessa was short and very tiny, other than her you were only sure of one other and that was Cable, who was serious, fit, tall, and massive. You were a good height and curvy as all hell. Suddenly you felt self conscious. But then he put his hands on either side of your face tilting your head up to meet his. You opened your eyes and they focused in on his lips. They were so close it caused the air in your lungs to get stuck.

"You're pretty quiet. You sure you wanna try to do other things. We can jump right to cuddling if that's better for right now?"

You looked up to meet his eyes.

"Is that what you want?" You tried your best to have it come out casually.

"Not really."

Your eyes migrated back down to his lips and you shuffled closer. You wanted to kiss him so badly you felt like your body was on fire.

"You can take whatever you want baby"

******************PSA: Dirty stuff below ;)*********************

That's all the permission you needed. You moved in and softly pressed your lips into his, then took things deeper. It didn’t take much for your breathing to become ragged, you were trying desperately to take the kiss further.

Eventually you bit his bottom lip and whimpered, finally he agreed, his hands tightened on your face and your tongues started to battle it out. You wanted to win, so you moved to straddle him. Finally accomplishing some friction between the two of you, you could feel your panties sliding against your wet folds. This only lasted for a few glorious seconds, before he flipped you on to your back quickly moving to pin your arms above your head.

He started moving south leaving a red hot trail of destruction behind him. There was only so much your tank top would allow, Wade seemed very content palming your right breast while biting on the flesh beneath your left collar bone. You on the other hand wanted your goddamn clothes off.

You tried to break his grip and moaned when you realized such a task would only be accomplished by hurting him. He really had you trapped there, a piece of knowledge that only made you want your clothes off more. His grip on your breast tightened and his smirking lips took a long pull on the hardened nub that was poking up benthe the cotton of your top. You couldn't help your back arching. Finally, after paying respects to your other breast, he pulled back to look at you. He squeezed your wrists.

“Stay”

God he was so bossy. Something that divided you internally. A part of you wanted to push it, see how hard he would dig into you, and the other part was desperate to behave and be good. You decided you would be good, for now. He sat up, leaning back on his knees in between your legs. Slowly his fingers brushed across the soft skin of your stomach, then his hands ran up along your torso taking your shirt with them. Feeling his scarred hands trail lightly across you sent shivers through your body. You felt him cup and knead your breasts for a moment before pulling your top over your head. He took a long look at you which made you feel delicious. No one had ever pulled out this side of you before. Kissing down your stomach he stopped at the waistband of your shorts. He took your left leg and used it to flip you over, somehow taking your shorts off at the same time. There you were ass up naked and loving every second of it. His big hands came down to smack your ass, a loud noise of please ran out of your mouth along with most of the air in your lungs. Enjoying the response he did it again then started kneading the flesh.

“Fuck you are so fucking sexy.” You felt his hands slide down to grip the tops of your thighs. You arched your back further resting your head on the bed. “Good girl.” The words hit you like a bullet but before you had time to find your footing his hot mouth was all over you wet folds.

His skilled tongue painting some kind of masterpiece, he was touching you everywhere but where you really desperately wanted it. But this seemed to be the way he operated, and you weren't complaining. After feeling like he had been everywhere, he started to circle that tight ball of nerves and you couldn't help but let out a shout. Pleasure was ripping through your body, things were starting to get hot and tight inside you, when all of a sudden those glorious lips closed in and created some heavenly suction. You couldn't stop your hips from bucking, this earned a heavy slap on your right ass cheek.

“Fuck fuck fuckf cukkkk ah” It quickly became too much, your orgasm hit you like a train, whole body tensing up then finally crashing down. Wade kept up the rhythm letting you ride it out. Finally pulling away when it became too much. He snaked his arm up your front to grab the front of your neck pulling you up on to your knees, angling your face so he could kiss you deeply. Putting on a show of how good you tasted. After a long moment of heated kissing, he positioned you so you were laying on your back again. Giving you a few moments to catch your breath.

“You wanna keep going?” he asked softly.

“Yes please.” you answered politely.

“Alright but, it's everywhere. All over me. So doggy style is generally best for this next part. If you wanna do it that way, I'm also just happy making you scream like this too.”

“Wade, we can stop if you need to. But I would much rather you fuck me like this. Or let me choke on you for a while then fuck me like this. On my back where I can kiss you and love you back. Ya feel me?”

He looked at you with searching eyes. You realized what you said probably sounded a bit off. Love you back probably wasn't the right thing to say, but you were operating with limited brain function at this point.

“This normally doesn't end well for me.”

“Hmmm. What part, how do you like to uh finish?” You asked slightly confused. Wade only laughed.

“That's not the problem, I almost got off just from you screaming like that. No, I just want to make sure you actually enjoy it. It's hard to enjoy things when you are looking up at someone who looks like they lost a fight with an industrial paper shredder that happened to be on fire.”

You snorted.

“Wade I never knew you before, but I’ve wanted you since I met you. Okay? There's no spooky feelings here.” Your words seemed enough to convince him. He leaned in for a soft kiss, one that made you want to misbehave. You pulled the shirt up, running your hands across the well defined muscles of his torso, then broke the kiss to pull it up over his head. You didn't give him a chance to be chatty, you resumed the heavy kiss, palming his erection. He moaned into your mouth. Feeling accomplished, you pulled the boxers off letting his heavy cock slap up against his stomach. You couldn't help but break the kiss, looking down you watched your hand slide over his impressive, throbbing length. You wanted to take him in your mouth, but before you could push him back onto the bed, he was already pinning you in place beneath him.

You felt him slide himself through your heat. Finally lining himself up with your entrance, his thumb set a steady pace on your clit as he pushed into you slowly. You were grateful he took his time opening you up. You let out a strangled sound when he bottomed out, you felt so full. He set a slow pace giving you lots of time to adjust, this only made you more desperate and needy. When he finally decided you’d had enough, you felt his hand squeeze the back of your neck as he set into a ruthless pace.

“FUCK” He was too much, his heavy body keeping you in place as your hips rose to meet every single thrust. you wanted to feel him as deeply as you possibly could. His hot mouth was biting into the flesh at the bottom of your neck. The heat inside you started to build and you were near your breaking point.

‘Wade” You breathed in a high, desperate tone.

“Cum for me baby” And just like that you felt it take over, your hips snapped up and your feet cramped up. You could feel your walls clench around him tightly, and you choked when he pushed through them even rougher than before. That thumb on your clit never gave up, keeping you trapped riding out the waves of pleasure. You felt it take him over, letting out a deep growl you felt him fill you. He held himself deep inside you, moving both his hands so his forearms were on either side of you trying to keep his weight from crushing you.

His forehead pressed against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. Eventually he moved out of you and he flopped onto his back. You got up and quickly went pee and cleaned yourself up. You grabbed another washcloth and went back to clean him up. You realised that getting up might have been a mistake. Wade was on his side with his eyes screwed shut.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked softly and grabbed the sides of his face and kissed his forehead.

“Better now.” He whispered.

“Sorry for getting up, I should have said something. Can I clean you up?” He gave you a strange look, like he was waiting for you to suddenly disappear. He took the washcloth and wiped himself down, you took it back throwing it into the bathroom. You looked down at him hoping that the voices weren't giving him a hard time. You sat next to him holding his hand, giving him some time.

**********************************************************************

“So about those cuddles?” He asked softly, and you wondered how many times people had hurt him or thrown him out.

You got under the light quilt on your bed motioning for him to do the same. He followed you, laying on his back, you tucked yourself into his side, enjoying his big arms wrapping around you. You gave his neck a light kiss.

“I missed you.” you said softly

“You have no idea how bad I missed being around you.”

“I won't leave again, if you wanted to make this either a regular thing… or a proper thing… if you're into that?” You felt a tight ball of nerves in your stomach.

“I’d really like that.” He kissed your forehead. You thought about all the things you would have to do to make this relationship compatible with your new life. But that was a later you problem, right now you were the best kind of exhausted. You both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Thank you again for the request!!!! <3

[sammiexwtf]

DIO Sounds About Right

Hi please enjoy my shitty JJBA fic (You can find it on AO3 and Wattpad with the same name) NSFW

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“Giorno I am so sorry that you haven’t been on good terms with your father practically since your birth, but I am NOT failing this project just because you want to avoid him,” You huffed. The blonde man on your phone screen shot you an annoyed look, which most likely mirrored the one on your own face.

“I don’t know why you’re so damn adamant on staying at my house to finish this project Y/N. I’ve already stayed over at your place countless of times and as a plus you’re closer to the library, we could just walk over when we need to,” Giorno let out a deep sigh as he leaned against his bed frame. “You know how I get when he’s around and since his business trip was cancelled he’ll be here for the whole weekend.”

“Look Gio, I know you try and avoid him as much as possible and I’m not clueless about your feelings towards him,” you mumbled with a small frown. “It’s just that my roommate is planning on using the apartment for one of her ridiculous parties and we’re not going to have any peace for our work if you come over here. Besides, even if your dad is going to be home all weekend you always tell me he locks himself in his study, so it’s not like we’re going to be graced with his presence anyways.”

“Still it’s just the simple thought of being under the same roof as him that’s bothering me. Plus, I don’t think you’ve even met my dad, so you wouldn’t really understand why I’m so against it.”

“You make it sound like he’s some sort of monster, maybe we should start calling him Count Dracula or something.” Your friend snorted at your stupid joke, trying to hide his smile by turning his face away from the screen.”Either way you won’t be completely alone with him if I’m there, and I know you wouldn’t be able to put up with a bunch of drunk college girls trying to get you into their panties.” At your last remark the blonde made a look of disgust and knew that you basically won the argument. If there was one thing that bothered Giorno the most, it was those self proclaimed ‘fans’ of his that were scattered throughout the university that you both attended, your roommate being one of them. Trying to avoid their affections while they were drunk would cause him even more displeasure than usual.

“Fine then. I’ll text you the address.” You couldn’t hide your excitement as you jumped out of bed to start packing your bag. This would be the first time going over to Giorno’s house since you’ve met him, and you weren’t going to waste any time if he decided to change his mind last minute.

“Alright I’ll see you soon then. Bye Giogio!”

“I told you not to call me that!” You playfully stuck your tongue out at the blonde before ending the FaceTime call to finish packing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn’t help but stare wide-eyed at the enormous house before you, flicking your head back and forth between the address Giorno had sent to you and the one plated in gold above the large double set doors. You even asked the boy more than once if he sent you the wrong address by mistake, earning you a barrage of middle finger emojis and obscenities at having to repeat himself over and over. Gingerly you lifted your hand to the doorbell and rang it, hearing the chime as clear as day echo inside. Your eyes shifted above the doorbell and noticed a plaque with the name ‘Brando’ etched across it. The sound of one of the doors opening gained your attention once more as a gorgeous young woman stepped out from them. She was wearing what looked to be a tight fitting maid’s uniform, with long brown hair swept to the side and cascading down one of her shoulders.

“Welcome to the Brando residence,” She said with a polite smile. “How can I help you Miss?”

‘Brando residence?” You thought to yourself. ‘I thought Giorno’s last name was Giovanna?’

“Uh hi...I’m looking for Giorno? I’m not sure if I’m at the right address.” The young woman perked up at Giorno’s name and stepped aside, holding the door open with a warm smile.

“You must be Y/N! Please come inside, Mr.Giovanna is indeed expecting you tonight!” At the confirmation you let out a breath of relief before stepping through the threshold, only to stop at the sight of the marble staircase before you. The house was far from being considered a mansion, but nonetheless did it look like something straight off of one of those celebrity reality shows. You jumped at the sound of the large door closing behind you, forgetting momentarily about the girl as she quickly made her way towards you. “Just give me one moment to go get Mr.Giovanna for you, he was insistent about showing you the house on his own.” All you could do was nod your head as words seem to fail as she hastily made her way up the stairs. You didn’t have time to look around though as Giorno came around from the top of the stairs and smiled down at you.

“This would be the part where I’d say welcome to my humble abode, but there is absolutely nothing humble about this monstrosity, my father made sure of that,” He sneered. He motioned with his hand for you to come up and you quickly began to ascend the stairs. Once you were at the top it didn’t seem as scary as before, but the rest of the home was just as beautiful. You honestly weren’t paying attention to where you were going, you were trying to take in everything at once from the amazing artwork that lined the walls, to ornate furniture, and even taking a moment to look at how pristine the hardwood floors were that you could practically see your face through it. Ok, maybe they weren’t that clean but still.

Before you knew it, you were in Gio’s bedroom as he made his way to his bed and opened his laptop. His bedroom was a simple creme color, a coffee brown bookcase filled with novels and trophies was lined next to a window that reached from the floor to the ceiling. Directly across from his bed was a flatscreen T.V sitting on top of a matching brown dresser. His walls were covered in paintings that looked as if they belonged in an art museum and a map of the world hung above his headboard. You stared down at his bed then, afraid to sit down as you didn’t want to wrinkle the deep purple duvet atop it. It took Gio a moment to realize that you were still standing by the doorway, his eyes following yours as they danced across his room as well before stopping right back at you.

“What?”

“Why am I just finding out now, after 2 years of friendship might I add, that you’re fucking loaded? I mean I knew you came from a family with SOME money but holy shit dude!” You stared into his green eyes, looking for an answer. Only to be met with a smile.

“Well technically I’m not rich. My father is. Hence there was nothing to find out.” You gave the blonde a dirty look, earning a chuckle from him before deciding that the bed was no longer intimidating and sat down on it.

“You know what I meant. I know you said your dad had a busy job, but what does he do to be able to own a house like this? Is he part of the mafia?” This time your question earned you a hearty laugh from your friend and you felt your ears get hot, not liking to be laughed at when you were being serious. You threw your duffle bag at Giorno, only for him to catch it with ease before placing it next to him on the bed. “I’m not trying to be funny Gio! Answer me!”

“First and foremost, you should know the mafia is MY forte, and I probably would respect the man if he actually was a member. It would make getting in a bit more easier.” You snorted at his answer. If you had a dollar for every time the boy mentioned dropping out of school to join the mafia you’d probably be as rich as his father by now. “However, every now and then he gets one as a client, if they’re willing to pay good that is. He’s a lawyer.” You looked around once more and out the open door as the maid walked by carrying a basket full of laundry. If this is what a lawyer could afford, maybe you were studying the wrong major.

“I have one more question.” Gio simply nodded his head for you to continue as he began typing on his laptop, pulling up the notes for the project you were assigned. “Why did that maid say this was the Brando residence? There was a plaque outside too with that name. I thought your last name was Giovanna?”

“It is Giovanna,” he answered without looking up from the computer screen. “That was my mother’s maiden name. My father’s last name is Brando. They were never married.” His curt reply told you that there was definitely more behind the story, but you decided not to press the issue for now and kept any more questions to yourself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Roughly three or four hours had passed since you and Giorno had begun working on your project, satisfied with the work so far you both decided to take a break. The due date wasn’t until a week from now, but this project was for your marine biology class and the professor was known for being a hardass when it came to grading so the sooner you could work on it, the more time you could use to perfect it before it reached him. You tossed your pen onto the bed, cracking your fingers and stretching your arms. Giorno had brought out his espresso machine an hour into the session and was now brewing himself another cup. You honestly never heard of anyone who kept a spare coffee machine in their bedroom, but Giorno mentioned that while he lived in Italy, it apparently was a normal thing. You called bullshit but decided not to break your head over it anymore.

“You sure you don’t want another cup of coffee Y/N?” You covered your mouth to stifle a yawn, wagging your finger at him.

“No thank you, if I drink too much caffeine I won’t be able to sleep tonight. Besides,” You added while hopping off of his bed. “Another cup of anything and I think my bladder will explode. Where’s the closest bathroom in this maze?”

“Down the hallway on the other end of the staircase, turn right.”

“Grazie!” He simply shot you a thumbs up as you made your way out with his, albeit vague, directions. Soon you went down the hallway and passed the stairs. “Alright he said turn right and we should be in business…” As soon as you turned the corner you stopped to see three doors, one on the right side closest to you and two on the left. All three were closed and Giorno hadn’t mentioned there’d be more than one door. “Well...only one way to find out.” Without another thought you naturally went to the single door on the right and opened it without hesitation. Not the brightest idea.

You halted in place, mouth going dry. The door you opened led not to the bathroom but to an older looking study. The three walls in front of you were lined ceiling to floor with bookcases, a small globe in the corner. In the center of it was a large mahogany desk, covered in scattered papers. What made you really stop however was the tall and muscular blond man casually leaning against the desk...with the maid on her knees facing him. The moment you had opened the door he had slowly looked up from the woman to you, not even startled by your intrusion. At first the only sounds you could hear was your own rapid heartbeat echoing in your ears, but now you were focusing on the sounds coming from the maid and noticing how her head was bobbing. A blush began to creep up your neck to your face as it looked like he made no intentions of stopping her either.

“Is there something I can help you with? I’m a bit busy if you couldn’t tell.” His deep voice had wrapped around your mind, slowly dragging you out of your thoughts. It sounded so calm, despite the current situation. You had to basically tear your eyes from the scene in front of you, your face burning more.

“I-I’m so sorry! I was just looking for-” You began to stutter, but he raised a hand stop you mid sentence.

“It’s the door across.” You quickly bowed and practically slammed the door shut, missing the sinful look on the man's face as he watched your retreating form.

You bolted into the room across, thankful this time for it actually being the bathroom as you locked the door letting out a shaky breath. You had no doubt in your mind that you had just met Giorno’s father, and unceremoniously at that.

“What a great first impression,” You thought aloud. You made your way to the sink to run some cool water on your face in hopes of getting your flustered look back to normal. After you were done and completed your original business you just stood at the closed door, you were a bit nervous to step foot outside the bathroom if god forbid HE was to come out at the same time. Unfortunately, god decided to dislike you at this moment as you heard a small knock on the restroom door. “Just a second,” You shakily called out. Deeply hoping it was Giorno wondering what was taking you so long. When you finally had the gall to open the door you were instead met with the sight of the young maid, her hair this time was a bit disheveled and a small pink tint was hinting at her cheeks.

“Hello again Ms. Y/N,” She squeaked out. This time she would not meet your eyes, looking towards the ground instead. “Mr. Brando would like for you to join him in his study for a moment. I will be taking my leave for the evening, please enjoy the rest of your stay.” She bowed and sped away and out of sight, not giving you a chance to apologize about walking in on them. You swept your eyes over the closed door to the study across from you, feeling a cold sweat begin to form on your brow. You inhaled deeply before settling your nerves and walking over. This time you knocked on the door and waited for an answer.

“Come in.” With another deep breath you slowly edged the door open, once again being welcomed by the dimly lit study. This time the man, whom you now knew was in fact Giorno’s father, sat behind his desk patiently, fingertips pressed together right above his wide chest. “I’m glad you learned how to knock this time,” He teased with a grin.

“Trust and believe I learned my lesson, again I want to properly apologize about intruding on...something so private.” You could hear your voice falter under his intense gaze, and he let out a deep chuckle. The sound was so alluring, and you felt your throat beginning to dry.

“That’s quite alright. I wanted us to start over on that first impression. Given the maid explained to me you’re a friend of my son, I didn’t think it appropriate for your first meeting of me to be in the middle of having my cock sucked,” He stated as if he were just talking about a small inconvenience. Your eyes widened at his crudeness and you couldn’t help but blush and look away, positive that you were as red as a cherry now.

“Well then...I appreciate the second chance then Mr. Brando.”

“Dio.”

“I beg your pardon?” You turned your face back to him, now he had his arms resting beside him on the chair. There was an almost playful look in his eyes.

“You can call me Dio. Mr. Brando is far too old for my taste.”

‘Of course his name would be something like Dio...how well it suits him too,’ You thought to yourself.

“Alright then...Dio. I’m Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You bowed to formally greet the man, and when you looked back up he was beckoning you with his finger to come forward. You thought about just staying put but in the end began walking towards him. As you got closer, you were able to notice his features more clearly. His vibrant blond hair sat at neck length, small fringes of bangs reaching right about his thick brows. His eyes almost looked cat like, predatory even yet strikingly alluring. You assumed they were a light brown color but with the dim lighting they almost looked red, adding a supernatural aura to him. He was gorgeous, and now you knew where Giorno got his looks from. Once you reached the edge of his desk, he held out his hand for you, almost as if he were asking for a handshake. You reached out your own to reach his, taking notice at how incredibly large his hand was to yours. However he gently wrapped his fingers around your hand and leaned over, placing a warm kiss on your knuckles. The small action immediately sent a wave of heat through your entire body. He looked up at you through hooded eyes, not moving your hand away from his face. Your blush had never left, and the heat began to grow unbearable as you watched his eyes slowly sweep down your face, stopping for a moment at your lips before coming back up to lock once more with your own.

“The pleasure is mine, Ms. Y/N.” His voice dropped to a seductive whisper, the breath from his words ghosting over your knuckles and sending a shiver down your spine. Slowly he slipped his hand from yours, lingering on your fingertips for the briefest of moments before resting it on his thigh. You followed his movements with your eyes, noticing how thick and muscular his thighs were, straining against the fabric of his beige dress pants. Your eyes crept up, landing on the small amount of skin peeking out from his shirt he hadn’t bothered to tuck back in. The white button down seemed to be a second skin, as it clung to every contour and muscle on his body, the first two buttons undone to give you a glimpse of just what lies underneath. Finally, your journey stopped on his lips; deliciously pouty and upturned into one of the most devilish smirks you’d ever seen. “See something you like?” You dragged your eyes up completely to meet his, only to be greeted with an intense gaze that burned through your entire body. He had watched you ogle him shamelessly like a horny school girl, and couldn’t look more proud about it. At that moment the door to the study swung open, snapping you out of your trance.

“I was worried you got lost, looks more like you got trapped.” Giorno’s familiar voice was laced with venom, his face contorted to one of disgust. He stayed at the entrance of the study, holding the door open to allow the light from the hallway to seep through. He was focused solely on Dio, who sat relaxed in his chair unbothered by the angry blonde boy.

“Oh, what a pleasant surprise my son.” He emphasized the last two words, earning an eye twitch from the younger. “ I was just introducing myself to your exquisite friend here. I’m quite hurt that you hadn’t introduced me to her sooner.” Giorno simply scoffed at his father’s words.

“Well now that you’ve met, I’d like to have her returned to me now. We have a project to finish.” Giorno then turned his eyes to you, his gaze softening immensely. “Come on Y/N, I ordered us some takeout and it should be here soon so we can get back to work.”

“O-oh. Uh thanks Gio,” You mumbled. Your mind was still in a bit of a haze, but you were beginning to get your bearings. You turned to look at Dio and bowed once more. “It was nice meeting you Mr...I mean Dio. Please have a great rest of your evening.” With that you turned and began high tailing towards the door. Giorno moved back into the hallway as you approached, but before you could close the door that seductive voice reached out to you once more.

“Y/N,” he purred out. Slowly you turned towards him, hand still in the door knob. “If you need anything at all tonight, please do not hesitate to come look for me. You are our guest here and it would be my...” his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, “greatest pleasure to assist you.” You couldn’t help but swallow at the second meaning behind his words. Afraid to hear your own voice you simply nodded your head before softly closing the door behind you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Giorno had interrogated you for a bit on your meeting with Dio, and you lied and told him you simply got curious after finding the bathroom and stumbled upon the study. You could tell he knew you were leaving something out but you would be damned if you actually told him the real way you found his father. After making sure you were ok enough for him and confirming that the man never touched you he dropped the subject and you both went on with the project while enjoying the food he had ordered. At around 1 AM you both agreed on turning in for the night and to continue in the morning. Giorno showed you to the guest room right next to his and bid you goodnight, finally leaving you alone with your thoughts. You laid on top of the bed just staring at the ceiling for a while. No matter how hard you tried, you kept replaying the meeting with Dio over and over again to the point that the memory of the maid slowly morphed and it was now you on your knees in front of him instead of her.

“Get out of my head!” You angrily whispered, not wanting for your friend to hear you through the walls. You glanced at your phone to see the time, ‘1:30 AM’ mocked the bright numbers. You got up from the bed and dug through your duffle bag and pulled out your pajamas. You thought about just changing and forcing yourself to sleep but you felt too warm and wanted a shower. Immediately you thought about going to the one down the hall but your stomach dropped, you did NOT want to run into you know who. “This house is huge, there’s definitely another bathroom somewhere.” You slowly made your way out of the room and into the quiet hallway. You checked the other rooms near yours only to find another guest room and a movie room, which you knew you were going to beg Giorno to set up a movie night after all of this. You walked down the hall and stopped at the stairs, looking at the hallway across from you where you knew the bathroom was.

“Maybe he’s not there anymore and went to bed?” You said to yourself. You shook your head and continued on your mission of finding another bathroom and descended down the stairs, you weren’t going to take any chances. Finally after finding the kitchen, two more guest rooms and a billiards room, you found a second bathroom. It was smaller and less ornate than the one up stairs but it was still a decent size and had a stand up shower. You mentally cheered before placing down your items and quickly began stripping. Soon you were in the shower letting the cool water bounce across your skin, feeling the tension in your body slowly melt away. Occasionally your mind would wander onto the relationship Giorno had with his father, yes the man was indeed intimidating and there was something below the surface of that beautiful face that felt a bit dangerous, but there was nothing else that struck out to you as to why your friend couldn’t stand him. He’s told you about how egotistical the man is and how they always lived on edge of a fight, but never actually gave you hard proof or reasons for the intense dislike. Giorno had told you about his mother and how a complete bitch she was while he was growing up and everything she had put him through so you understood his feelings towards her completely. Eventually she dumped him off onto Dio one day and just disappeared from his life, ‘good riddance’ he had told you. Yet the mechanics of his relationship with his father was still kept a mystery to you and he would close up about it if you started asking too many questions. The only answer you’ve gotten so far was that they shared a difference in morals, and that was it.

After a good while you finished your shower and started to dry off. You felt as if a thousand weights were lifted from your shoulders and quickly put the events of the evening to the back of your mind, finally feeling sleepy. You began to get dressed but noticed something odd. You could have sworn you brought a clean pair of underwear to change into along with your pajamas. You looked around the bathroom floor to see if maybe it had fallen but found nothing.

“Maybe I left them in the bag by accident?” You shrugged your shoulders and just decided to just slip on your night shorts without underwear , you’d put some on when you got back to your room. You opted for a simple tank top as well to complete the look, your body was still a bit wet so the shirt became damp making the material a bit see through. You didn’t really care much, not like you were going to run into anybody like this..

You made your way out of the bathroom, the air inside the house suddenly felt a lot more colder and you began to shiver. Scurrying your way through the first floor you finally made it back to the stairs and started to climb them. You hadn’t noticed the extra pair of footsteps walking the hall until you were half way up, stopping completely in your tracks and if you hadn’t met him tonight the sight before you would’ve been a terrifying one. Dio stood at the top of the stairs, his back facing the little bit of light from the hall so all you could really see was the outline of his body, his face was completely hidden in the shadows. It felt like you were looking at a ghost and not a man.

“What a coincidence, I was just on my way down to look for you, Ms. Y/N..” His voice was as smooth as ever, but you noticed there was something else there that you couldn’t quite pick up on. “What on earth are you doing up at this hour?” You were feeling a bit uneasy with how calm he sounded, and the fact that you couldn’t see his face was making it worse.

“I was just taking a bath..” You answered meekly, your throat feeling tight.

“And why would you go through the trouble of going all the way down there? You already know there’s one upstairs.”

‘ Because I didn’t want to run into like I just did now.’ You thought to yourself. You swallowed hard before answering.

“I-I didn’t want to disturb you in case you were asleep.”

“Aren’t you the thoughtful one.” He let out a chuckle. “No matter, I actually was looking for you to see if you forgot something.”

“Not that I know of..why?” You wanted for this conversation to be over already, the tension that you had just showered away crawling right back to you. Dio let out another chuckle, this one sounded a bit huskier. He didn’t say anything but lifted his hand out to the side, and your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. In his hand were your missing panties, where as he was still in the shadows they were illuminated VERY clearly in the light. You felt your embarrassment multiply as he laughed at your reaction.

“I found them on the floor up here by the stairs and figured they were yours, unless Giorno has changed his sense of fashion recently which I doubt considering he’s never liked polka dots to begin with. Then again I’m not one to judge.” You could hear the teasing tone in his voice and you couldn’t help but laugh nervously at his joke.

“This is just outright embarrassing, but thank you for trying to return them to me.” You kept mentally cursing to yourself about this whole situation, and how this happened in the first place; you should’ve just let Giorno come to your apartment to study like he wanted from the beginning. You began climbing the stairs to retrieve your underwear from the blond, but as soon as you reached the last step he took one step back just out of your reach. You furrowed your brows and stepped forward again, and once more he took another step back. “Um...what are you doing?”

“Playing your game, Ms. Y/N.” You rose a brow in confusion, you were honestly getting annoyed now.

“What game?” He let out a ‘hmph’ before turning around and walking down the hall, still dangling your underwear over his shoulder for you to see. “Hey!” You shouted and followed after him as he disappeared around the corner, once you reached it you stopped to see the door to his study was wide open. You made your way over and stood in front of the open door, on top of his desk were your panties, but Dio was nowhere in sight.

‘ I would have to be a complete idiot not to realize this is a trap.’ You stayed in place, just staring at the underwear that was mocking you. He had to be somewhere in there, but the dim lighting made it hard to see into the small shadows in the corner of the room, and the light from the hallway wasn’t helping much either. You contemplated just leaving them there, it wasn’t like you had no more underwear at home, but deep down you wanted to see what would happen and the moment that thought crossed your mind you felt a warm sensation through your body. Your fantasy was getting the better of you and before you realized it you were walking towards the desk. You reached the desk and still no sign of the man, so you reached out to grab your underwear without hesitating.

*Click*

The light from the hallway completely disappeared as the door was closed, you didn’t turn around but you could feel someone staring at you from behind. His footsteps echoed in the room, surprised that you could even hear them over the sound of your own heartbeat blaring in your ears. He stopped right behind you, his chest practically pressed against your back. A large hand reached out from behind you and took hold of the clothes that you were still clutching in your hands before tossing them to the side. Once more the hand came into your line of vision and tenderly cupped your face and turned it to the side to meet Dio’s hot gaze. His hand was cold in comparison to your hot face as he slowly traced circles on your bottom lip with his thumb. He bent his head down to your ear, pressing you against his body in the process and feeling his hardness rub against your ass. You let out a gasp, earning you a chuckle from the large man, his warm breath tickling your ear.

“I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you, that you’d be a special treat.” His voice felt like velvet as he whispered into your ear, the sound along with his breath was beginning to make your body betray you as each word he whispered sent a throbbing heat to your core. He kissed the spot right behind your ear, slowly ghosting his lips across your jaw, then your cheek before hungrily taking your own lips with his. His lips were softer than they looked as they caressed your own, earning a moan from you. Dio took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. You should’ve pushed him away, bit his tongue, elbowed him to make a run for it or something instead of just giving in. His other hand had wrapped around your waist, but was now moving up and under your tank top grabbing a hold of your right breast and massaging it. Dio finally pulled away from the kiss and aside from the lustful look on his face he seemed unaffected, unlike you who was a panting red faced mess.

“We shouldn-'' Was all you were able to breath out before he pinched your nipple hard eliciting another moan from you as he began rubbing the sensitive bud between his fingers.

“Your voice sounds so sweet when you moan for me Y/N, I want more of it.” His other hand left your face as it travelled to the waistband of your shorts before slipping through easily, running a long thick finger across your slit. Your hips on their own accord bucked at the sensation, making Dio laugh darkly. “My, my, all I did was kiss you and you’re already so wet. You’re a very filthy girl aren’t you Y/N?” You turned your face away from him and bit your lip to hold back another moan as he slipped his finger inside you and began pumping it slowly. Your knees began to buckle from underneath you, so Dio pushed you both forward effectively pinning your legs between him and the desk to stop you from falling.

“I can’t do this,” You whined to him. “Your Giorno’s father..” You squeezed your eyes shut in pain as he added two more fingers and began pumping at an obscene pace, not allowing you to stretch around them first.

“I’m well aware of who I am to that boy.” He answered gruffly.The hand that was on your breast moved and was cupping your face a bit more rough than before, his fingers now hitting your sweet spot causing your breath to stop in your throat. “I’m also aware about his feelings for you and how blissfully ignorant you are to them. Which makes this so much more sweeter for me.” He kissed you again, this time more feverishly. As he pulled away again he withdrew his fingers from your heat at the same moment, leaving you feeling empty. That feeling was short lived however as he pushed you down onto the desk, your chest was completely pressed against it making your ass push out towards him. Dio pulled your shorts down to your ankles, the cold air rushing to your wet core making you shiver. You could hear him unzipping his pants and the ruffling of clothing, before you felt the tip of his dick tease against your entrance. Slowly he inched it into you, stretching out your hole. It had not hurt as much as you thought it would but there was a dull pain nonetheless from how big he was. You’ve had partners before so you were by no means a virgin, but you’d be damned if you had anybody with his size.

“Such a nice and tight cunt you have my dear Y/N. I can’t wait to ruin it.” Without wasting another moment he gripped your hips with both hands as he began to fuck you roughly, the lewd sound of his skin slapping against yours were drowned out by your loud moans. His chest was pressed firmly against your back, his head right next to your ear and you could hear every groan and grunt that escaped his lips. “I wish you could see the look on your face right now,” He panted into your ear, not once stopping his relentless pace. “Such a dirty look for a dirty girl.” You had no response, the only thing falling from your mouth being your own incoherent screams and moans. Soon you felt a hot pressure beginning to build, each thrust bringing you closer to your edge.

“Dio please!” You couldn’t recognize your voice, it sounded so hoarse and needy. He took notice and snaked a hand down between your legs, pressing a finger onto your clit but not moving it.

“Please what, my dear Y/N?” He began to slow his pace, getting you on the verge of tears as you felt the pressure begin to fade. “I want to hear you beg for it.” You tried to bring your hips to meet his but he only pulled farther away. Finally you gave in.

“Make me cum from your cock Dio, please!” Satisfied he picked up his pace, slamming into you as he began rubbing your clit in tight circles. The pressure began building up again causing your vision to go in and out.

“I want you to scream my name when you cum. Be a good little girl for me.” His voice is what sent you over the edge as his name ripped from your throat as you orgasmed. As you came your core squeezed around him, bringing him close to his. He pulled out with a final groan as he emptied his load onto your ass. As your high began to die down, you felt the pain on your thighs from being pounded into the desk. You were going to have bruises tomorrow for sure. Slowly Dio lifted himself from on top of you, lifting you off of the desk as well. “I apologize, but it seems I may have made a bit of a mess on you.” His breathing was back to normal, but when you turned around you looked down and nearly choked. He was still as hard as a rock. “Why don’t I join you for a another shower, Ms. Y/N?” The devilish look on his face was enough to tell you that your little romp was far from over.

[winterhawkkisses]

643.

(for @lissadiane who looks after me when I feel shit)

The garden was filled with that odd, golden, threatening afternoon light that drew everything with sharp edges against the dark sky. The wind teased the trees with brief, hard gusts, tugging and shoving them this way and that. It had the feeling of a protesting crowd on the verge of chaos, the first threatening lunges, the first person bending to grab a chunk of stone. Bucky shuddered and closed the curtain, plunging his bedroom into darkness, and swaddled himself back in his bed.

He had a couple of hours before Steve would come home, enough time to balance himself just on the edges of sleep, where movement was unnecessary and thoughts came slow. If he was lucky, if today was one of the good days, he might be able to tip himself over into enough of a pretense at it that Steve'd leave him be when he came to check.

It was dark outside by the time he cared enough to pay attention again.

He wasn't great at sleeping any more. Sleep dredged up memories, wound them together with fears, left them on his pillow like a cat leaves things that should be dead but bleed and scrabble and shriek. It was a little easier in the daylight hours, though, when he could scream himself hoarse without waking Steve, when waking told him exactly where he was, the framed pencil sketch of Peggy watching him struggle out of sweat-soaked sheets with gentle concern.

The middle of the night, on the other hand, the empty hours before the sun came back, were somehow reassuring in a way that didn't make sense to Steve.

Sure, Bucky had been kept in darkness, over there. Darkness and pain, and harsh incomprehensible voices, and occasionally - when they moved him - a sky without any end to it, an impossible depth of stars.

Day was loud and bright and fast, every damned place the same, too much to take in enough to know where the hell you were. In the dark, every voice was a little louder and even slurring, the words now were familiar. Darkness gave you just enough for the character of the country to come through, rising to your nose and your ears and through the soles of your feet. And of course, this was goddamn America, so even out here in the suburbs there were only so many stars.

Just about midnight every night, Bucky pulled on an oversized sweater, snuck downstairs to make himself a coffee by the dim light thrown by appliances, and went outside to curl up on the porch swing that Steve had always longed for as a kid. Sometimes, if he'd managed to get a couple hours of rest, he'd bring a book out and turn on the porch light, taking down the bug zapper that Steve had installed 'cos the idea of it turned his stomach, these days. He read back through the things he'd always loved before; Pratchett and Verne and Heinlein and Le Guin. He knew how they ended, and kept himself safe. Other nights, he just wrapped his arm and the other arm around his knees and rested his head and didn't think.

Steve had moved out here from Brooklyn when Bucky had come home. He said the two were unrelated, but he said a lot of bullshit before he worked out how Bucky wanted to play this. He'd always been a city boy at heart, and it was a little hilarious watching him navigate the suburbs. He'd already gained a fluttering audience of fans for his daily runs, and he'd started talking about maybe getting a crosstrainer instead to keep in the shed out back.

It was the first time either of them had had a yard that was more than concrete, though, a couple of straggling potplants that Bucky had fought tooth and nail to keep alive. As a result the place was a mess, overgrown bushes and precarious trees, grass that came up as high as your knee. He meant to learn something about it, fix it up into something nice, but it was never quite the right time.

Tonight it was raining, heavy and loud, living up to the afternoon's threat. Bucky could see more of the downpour, the trembling leaves and sparkling raindrops, from just the edges of orange light that snuck back from the front of the house, so he kept the porch light off; it'd never rained, out in the desert.

The flood of bright light from the kitchen of the house next door made him flinch and curl tighter.

The fence between the two yards was, at most, waist height. Steve hadn't had the money for more, but he'd insisted they needed it 'cos the neighbour had a dog. Cute as hell, one-eyed, and a force of descruction on the begonias that had died by now anyway. Steve had the blackest of goddamned thumbs.

(It had been a project for Bucky; it had required leaving the house.)

It meant Bucky could see the neighbour, though, when he opened the back door, stared outside with something that looked very like dismay.

"Aaw, rain," he said, like it was a surprise to him, like he hadn't been able to hear the pounding of it against his windows and doors. Bucky extended the hand he'd been given, watched the raindrops sparkle against metal, and waited patiently for the guy to go back inside.

He didn't. He sat down just inside the back door and pulled on a pair of battered sneakers that'd hold up about five minutes under the deluge, picked up the rustiest garden fork Bucky had ever seen, and forged out into the darkness with only the light falling from the kitchen to guide him. So he was gonna get tetanus and die, probably. Whatever. It wasn't Bucky's problem.

It was a little soothing, though, watching him dig away at a patch of ground be the porch, digging weeds away from whatever the hell it was he'd actually planted. And -

Bucky's libido had pretty much taken a nose-dive for the past few months. It was no massive surprise. The therapist he had phone appointments with said something about the lack of bodily autonomy or something, he'd been playing Tetris and hadn't paid all that much attention. He had to admit, though, the rain, and the white shirt, and those goddamn shoulders - call it his aesthetic sensibility, if you like, like Steve did when he went to a museum to ogle the goddamn nudes.

Bucky tired of it all before the neighbour did. He got up, bare feet splashing in the puddle that had drifted in on the wind, and opened the back door, the neighbour not even lifting his head at the creak.

"Bucky?" Steve's voice floated out of the darkness, and Bucky climbed the stairs towards him, letting Steve wrap him up in his arms. He was kind of an octopus when he was sleepy; Bucky didn't so much mind. "You're all wet. You been outside?"

"I was watching the neighbour do some gardening," Bucky told him, and dealt with the unintentionally patronising grin.

Bucky managed to sleep a couple of hours in the safety of the morning, woke up panting and sweating but managed not to scream. He told his therapist about his crazy neighbour - a little to trigger her rant on ableist language, he wasn't gonna lie, 'cos he didn't feel all that much like talking, that day. There was about five minutes - after the sleep, and the therapy, after he'd managed to heat himself up some food - when he considered walking down the block to the grocery store. He rocked back and forth in the open front door for a moment or two, then swore and retreated back into the house. Curled up on the couch with a new book, read two pages before he had to go find something he knew.

He had things he could list as progress, at least. Steve'd be proud.

Sometimes he didn't recognise himself in the mirror, any more. Months of not leaving the house in the daylight had left him pallid and sickly; his hair was getting long; he hadn't shaved in about a week.

He thought about calling his sister.

He climbed back into bed.

There was a gentle tap on the door, some indeterminate amount of time later. Bucky grunted something that worked as enough acknowledgement for Steve to come on in, the evening sunlight pouring in after him until he looked a little bit like a work of art. Like one of those saints with the beautiful longsuffering expressions; maybe they had useless asshole best friends, too.

"I'm going out for dinner with Sam," Steve told him, and yeah, that was one of his nicer shirts. "You wanna come with?"

"I'm not crashing your date, Stevie," Bucky told him, and hey, progress, this was the first time that Steve just blushed, didn't reach for the automatic denial. "Besides," he added, "I'm starting to offend myself, I'm gonna change my sheets and take a bath."

"Sure," Steve said, doing a pretty poor job of biting down on his grin. "Sure, that's great, just leave the sheets by the basement door."

Bucky grumbled another response and ducked back under his blankets, 'cos he hated that he still couldn't - the basement was solid stone, and dark, and it didn't have enough windows. He couldn't.

Steve left with a cheerful jangle of keys and a slam of the front door, which was echoed by the slam of the door on the neighbour's truck. He seemed to work weird hours, leaving before light and stumbling back when it was just about dark, and Bucky felt kinda sorry for his dog. He contemplated, for a second, offering to walk the mutt for him; it was just about as fantastical as the books he read.

It'd be nice to get a closer look at those shoulders, though.

Bucky peeked out of his bedroom window just long enough to get a glimpse of the top of a scruffy blond head, then efficiently stripped his sheets and bundled them together, dropping them over the banister so they landed directly outside the basement door. He had to venture into Steve's room - neat as a new pin - to find himself a clean towel, but the shower was too long denied bliss.

He gathered up his clothes and then threw 'em in a bag with half the contents of the laundry basket, dropping that beside his blankets; he figured he could pay Steve back by cooking him some lunches, give him a break from cardboard-dry sandwiches from the office canteen. He used to love cooking, wasn't sure when that changed.

Half an hour later, hanging over the rail of the back porch, emptying his guts at the scent of cooking meat - yeah. He remembered.

His second attempt was mushroom risotto. That one, he could do. He served himself a bowl and packed the rest of it up into lunch-sized portions, stacking them neatly in the refrigerator. It was tempting to go sit out on the back porch, but he wasn't sure he could deal with the sun, so he settled himself on one of the stools by the kitchen island instead, folded his cold feet over each other and reminded his body how good food could be.

Midnight found him out on the porch again. Steve hadn't made it home, which he'd sent many alternating judgey and lewd texts about, but the truth was it made him kinda restless. He wasn't gonna stare out the front window like a creeper, though, so he came out and curled on the back porch instead, leaving the kitchen light on so he could see enough to sketch spaceships.

He wasn't an artist, not like Steve. His drawings were always kinda businesslike, no emotion. At least, that was how he had always thought about it. His therapist had found it interesting that when he put pen to paper he exclusively designed spaceships, said something about looking for escape. Bucky didn't see any problem with that.

Bucky looked up, startled, when the neighbour's back door slammed open, a bundle of golden fur shooting out. The neighbour followed at a more sensible pace, rubbing the back of his neck, his hair standing up on end like he'd only just woken. He glanced over, startled a little when he caught sight of Bucky, and lifted a hand in greeting.

"Hey," Bucky said, which was the first time he'd spoken to anyone outside of Steve and his therapist in... a month and three days. Man, he really needed to call his sister.

"Hi," his neighbour said back, and grinned, lopsided and kinda charming before it spread into a yawn. "You're Bucky, right?"

"Yup," Bucky said, tapping his fingers restlessly against the notepad on his lap. "Sorry, I don't -"

"Aaw, Steve didn't mention me? I thought we were bros!" The guy actually held his hand out, like he hadn't registered the distance between their respective back porches, and then looked awkward and rubbed the back of his neck again. "I'm Clint," he said.

"Hey, Clint." Bucky stood abruptly, losing the pen he'd been drawing with into the darkness of the yard. "I'm gonna -" he gestured loosely and headed back into the house, so goddamn unsettled by an exchange of words with someone he didn't know that he had to turn off the kitchen light and curl up on the floor there, breathing in deep with his head between his knees.

Once his heart was a little steadier, he climbed the stairs and took a right instead of a left at the top, opening the door to the spare room that overlooked the garden. He was just a little worried, he told himself, 'cos Clint was using sharp tools and he'd looked more than half asleep. Just making sure there were no injuries.

(Didn't stop him laughing like hell, though, when Clint tripped over his goddamned dog.)

It took a couple weeks to get past greetings, even if that was only a conversation about why the hell Clint did his weeding in the dark. Turned out he had two jobs, a mailroom job in the day and an archery range after hours; he slept through some of the evening, gardened a little, slept a couple hours in the small hours of the morning too.

"I'm not great at sleeping," Clint said with a look that Bucky recognised.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Me too."

It was kind of inspiring watching Clint gradually taming the wilderness behind his house, by kitchen light and torchlight and the light of the damned moon. It ended in more injuries than Bucky was happy with, he'd admit, and he took to keeping a tube of Bactine and a box of band-aids under his seat. First time he grabbed Clint's bloody hand, even with the safety net of the fence stretched between them, he'd felt like his heart was gonna pound its way out of his chest.

(Three months, six days since he'd touched anyone that wasn't Steve. Two and a half years since he'd touched anyone he wanted this bad.)

Clint was somehow an idiot and whip-smart. Clint was clumsy as hell and a freaking gymnast. Clint was so strong it was making Bucky weak for him, and he felt like he was getting pulled in so many directions that it was tying him up in knots.

Clint made Bucky laugh. He'd forgotten he knew how to do that.

"Maybe I'll come over there and sit by you someday," Clint said one night, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the gentle patter of rain. "Judge whatever you're drawing like you judge my *totally awesome* pruning skills."

Bucky's heart leapt into his throat and he nearly choked on it. He shoved up to his feet violently enough that the swing crashed into the side of the house and locked the kitchen door just as soon as it closed behind him.

Fuck. *Fuck*. Why in hell was he so goddamned *scared*?

"Hey," he said to his therapist the next day. "I want to - how do I get better at talking to people? How do I - I want to do that." He felt like an idiot, choking on his words.

He didn't go sit on the back porch for a couple of weeks.

The next time he went out, it was edging into dawn, just on the edge of whatever opposite twilight had. Clint's garden showed signs of furious activity, the bushes neat, the beds dug over, only the grass to go. It was pretty impressive work for someone who refused to use anything with a motor, not wanting to piss off his neighbours by waking them up in the middle of the night. Of course he wasn't out there. Bucky didn't even bother pretending to himself that he wasn't disappointed.

He lurked pathetically for a minute or two, looking towards the back door of Clint's house like his longing'd be enough to draw the guy out. He squinted at something leaning against the back door there, and swore when he managed to make out that it was a goddamn *scythe.* Nuh-uh, no way; he'd seen the damage the guy could do to himself with a pair of goddamn *scissors*.

"You're sure about this?" Steve said, the next morning, helping him haul the mower they'd never used over the rickety fence. Bucky was a little lightheaded about being out in the daylight, but he set his jaw; there was no way he was gonna let Clint get tetanus and die. Not without Bucky getting to kiss his dumb face first.

Steve called him downstairs that evening, after texting him once or twice to make sure it was all right. It'd given Bucky enough time to get himself dressed, something a little better than the stretched out shirts and sweatpants that were his normal attire. He came down the stairs, chewing on his lower lip, hesitating in the doorway for a moment or two before he swallowed his heart back down to where it should be and made himself walk into the lounge.

Clint looked different in lamplight. More solid, more beautiful, more like he was something that could be touched. He got to his feet as Bucky approached, shoving his hands deep into his pockets like Bucky wasn't the only one feeling tactile about this. Clint smiled, and Bucky couldn't help mirroring him, pleased at the way Clint's eyes dropped helplessly to his mouth.

"You cut my grass?"

Bucky shrugged. "I was saving you from yourself," he said, and stepped a little closer, looking up into Clint's blue eyes. "Seemed only fair; you kinda did the same for me."

[ohthathurt]

Bring Me Home

Prompt: You were away for a while and I missed you so much that I kind of tore up the house in your absence like a dog with separation anxiety…sorry? 

Also inspired by this art

Heaving up his shoulder bag, Liam absently rolled up the sleeves of his hoodie, digging into a travelling bag in front of him on the trolley for his water bottle. Flying sucked balls. Obscene as that description may be, it was God’s honest truth and he couldn’t wait to get out of the airport and into a private car that took him to their flat. His and Zaynie’s flat in New York.

He had just landed a few minutes ago and thankfully it being a late flight there weren’t as many people milling in and out, which always set Paddy on edge, sticking to Liam like Velcro. Baggage claim done, he followed his security out towards the arrivals gate and out of the airport’s exit sliding doors.

This time, no paps were present to document his entry into New York because of obvious reasons but Liam was grateful for them, he was sure he looked a mess. Face wrinkled with however little sleep he could manage and hair sticking up on all ends thanks to the residual hair wax, he was surprised no one gave him the stink eye.

He dropped heavily onto the soft seats of the car, a black sedan with tinted windows, and immediately curled up to go back to sleep. From the front passenger seat, he could hear Paddy look back at him and scoff but Liam ignored him for the sweet call of slumber and dreams full of happy amber eyes.

It was much later that he jolted up as he heard a sharp rap against the window that his face was currently smushed up against, haphazardly wiping off any drool that may have accumulated.

He looked around in a daze and he found the car was parked in idle in a narrow alley behind a building. The flat’s back entrance, then.

It was already beginning to be sunrise so he pushed himself out the car door and walked towards the building’s back entrance, an inconspicuous looking door with matte black paint on it. Liam wobbled his way through the door and robotically made his way towards their flat. A quick swipe and the security checks were sorted as he finally stepped into his home.

The smell of vanilla and dog food welcomed him as he sleepily chuckled, so Zayn was sneaking Rhino in behind his back. Their dogs, more like babies, weren’t always allowed in the flat whenever they lived here, due to Rhino’s tendency to run in open areas and Loki loved the gardens at their LA mansion.

But Liam stopped short of their living room, the coffee table a mess of comics and coasters, sheets of paper strewn around no doubt filled with mindless lyrics or wordless melodies. His heart ached to hear the soft pads of feet across their plush carpet, a wide grin with a scrunchy nose and lively eyes. He longed for those thin, wiry arms to wind around his neck, his husband a light weight in his arms as he jumped up to greet Liam.

All he wanted was to bury his nose in the soft, raven hair and breathe in the familiar but still intoxicating scent of Zayn.

God, he’s such a sap, if his husband was here he’d get a roll of the eyes and a scoff but still with a hint of rosy cheeks. Even after all these years, Zayn still loved to hear how much he meant to Liam.

With a shake of his head, Liam forced himself out of his head. Right, first things first.

He took long strides towards their bedroom, the door half open with the king sized bed in view, and all clean white sheets. Unlacing his shoes, he kicked them off in a hurry outside the bedroom’s entrance and made his way towards the wardrobe room. Of course, they had a wardrobe room; where else would Zayn keep the innumerous clothing items he received on the daily.

Liam flicked on the dim orange light of the tiny space and made his way towards the far left corner, where his own drawer of things was situated. Swiftly sliding it open, he reached in for a small velvet pouch. He shook its contents out onto his palm with a small smile as he finally slid on his wedding band.

Now he felt complete. Now he felt like Liam, just Liam, or as Niall called him, Mrs. Zayn Malik.

With a huff at the memory of his best friend taking the piss out of him, he exited the small room and his eyes zeroed in on the bed. Finally, his own bed.

After a quick use of the washroom, he took his cellphone out and sent a customary reached text to his husband, before shutting it off. He planted himself face down on the bed, practically groaning at the memory foam as it hugged his body. Blindly, he reached for Zayn’s pillow and cuddled it close to him, the scent of his husband still a remnant on it.

With a small sigh, he switched onto his side and curled up into a foetal position, before finally drifting off.

***

Light danced across his eyelids and Liam groaned as he absently remembered he forgot to shut the blinds. He fluttered his eyes open carefully, the sunlight almost blinding him and found that he was in the same position he slept in.

With a loud grunt, he shifted onto his back, only to find a dull ache present in his left shoulder and his back. He’d probably have to call his trainer in to check that over before he went back to his weight training.

After an agonizing hour of moving himself around for enough blood flow to ease his pain, he was perched on a stool at the kitchen island, a bowl of oat bran cereal in front of him and his thumb scrolling busily through his twitter mentions.

He chuckled at the few memes, apparently him and Niall were fodder for ‘1d memes’ nowadays, and smiled at the warm yet manic compliments left by his fans.

He exited out of his own twitter page and typed in a name he’s not ashamed to admit that he Googles more than his own. Zayn Malik.

Switching to an update blog on Tumblr, he found a flurry of new pictures of Zayn who was currently in Milan attending a Louis Vuitton show. His husband was holding several poses, dressed in a sleek, aubergine-coloured tux with black trims, shiny black shoes and hair an artful mess of inky black.

In each picture, Zayn held a similar pose, the achingly familiar smoulder and the mandala-covered hand on the lapel of his suit jacket. Liam’s heart threatened to burst with affection as he scrolled through more pictures of his husband, in every angle possible. God, but he was beautiful. And God, did Liam miss him terribly.

He also longed to see the familiar black ring on the left hand, right above the mandala tattoo. The same ring that he had purchased back in 2013, with the help of his and Zayn’s sisters. The same ring he had then presented to Zayn with a tear-filled speech that neither of them could get through.

But there was no use longing for something that was well far off in their future. He heaved a huge sigh and shoveled the last few spoonfuls of his breakfast, dropping the bowl in the sink to wash later.

He looked around the lonesome flat, figuring out what to do. The comics on the coffee table looked inviting so headed over to pick a few up.

**

Evening approached quickly and Liam found himself utterly bored and surrounded by crumpled up white papers. Lyrics scrawled down and scratched over, a funny looking doodle that was supposed to be Watson and Loki playing in the grass and just Zayn’s name signed over and over again.

The flat now looked a bit of a mess; the couch was obviously stained with a large yellow spot from where he had accidentally spilled some beer earlier in the day. His crumpled up papers littered the living room floor and a few reached across to the entrance of his bedroom, from where he had lobbed it in frustration, when lyrics and melodies escaped him.

He was pretty sure there were dirty dishes piled up in the kitchen sink and a flurry of crumbs on the kitchen floor and counter from when he had dropped the box of cereal clumsily. He’d mostly cleaned it up but there were still some obvious signs of trauma.

His dirty clothes from the airport were lying half in and out of the laundry basket and their washroom a mess from when Liam took an hour long hot shower without bothering to clean up the steam stained windows of their shower.

So he was a bit of a mess, but his husband’s absence was getting to him. He couldn’t even call him because he didn’t want to bother Zayn and worry him with the fact that he couldn’t even handle a few weeks alone.

Thick scruff was now growing freely over his jaw and he hadn’t changed into any proper clothes for two days now. He was still in the same pajamas and shirt that he threw on after the shower yesterday.

Liam thought of a way to pass the time when a framed picture of a family on the far left wall in the room caught his eye. He grinned widely, jaw cracking due to lack of use.

He checked the time and it was just past dinner in the UK so he whipped his phone out and dialed Safaa on Skype.

It was answered quickly as a familiar wide grin filled the screen and a screeching “Bhai!” from none other than Walihya.

Liam grinned, “Hi monster, what are you doing on your sister’s cell?”

Walihya only switched to a smug grin, “I got to it first so I get to talk to you first.”

“Alright, smart arse, how’s it going there? You get the contract yet?”

His sister-in-law bit her lip nervously before answering, “No, but I’m scared I’m not gonna get it.”

Liam scoffed, if there was someone as persistent as her on a project, it would surely get done. He told her so and watched in amusement as she blushed lightly and switched back to her scream-talking.

But soon a scuffle broke out and Liam could make out heated girlish whispers as the phone jerked around violently before a sweet smile on a serene face greeted him. His little one.

“Hi Saf,” Liam all but cooed at her and watched her scrunch her nose up, just like her brother.

Safaa giggled, “I’m not 8 anymore, Bhai. You still greet me like I’m a child.”

“You are a child! You’re my itty bitty little widdle cuddle monster.” He teased her relentlessly, enjoying the sweet smile morph into a more sarcastic and deadpan look. She looked every bit as unimpressed as Zayn does when Liam wants him to wash his own socks.

“Excuse you, I’m a teenager!”

“Yeah, only sixteen!”

“Yeah, and sixteen is pretty grown up.” Safaa looked smug as she stated.

Liam laughed, “Is it really? So tell me, O wise one, what all can you do at sixteen?”

She put on a mischievous smile, “Didn’t Bhaiyya fall in love with you at sixteen?”

Liam sobered up, “Safaa, don’t go looking for that now, you’re way too young!”

But the little shit grinned widely still, “Oh so now I’m too young for this when you two were probably off shagging at – “

“Safaa!” A shout resounded from behind her and she instantly cringed as the phone was passed and Trisha appeared on the screen beside her.

A small, “Sorry, Mum” was quickly whispered as she scampered somewhere off screen, probably to her bedroom to sulk in shame. Liam felt guilty for teasing, she was a sensitive one, his Safaa, and he didn’t want to see her shamefaced like that.

He quickly greeted his mother-in-law who was smiling gently at him before he addressed the issue of his youngest sister-in-law.

With a tinkling laugh and a hand wave, his protests soon died down as she continued, “Don’t worry, darling, she’s the spoilt one, you and Zayn never let me or Yaser scold her.”

He relaxed as their conversation soon took a turn towards Liam being alone and Trisha tutted quietly at his dejected expression.

“Do you want to catch a quick one over to Bradford, jaan? You can keep us company until Zayn is done.” She offered gently, an invitation that made him feel warm in his gut and a strong sense of belonging in his veins.

He thanked her but rejected the invitation politely, he wanted to stay here and wait until his husband came back. Besides, Zayn was supposed to be here in two days.

Soon, he was hearing lectures on his unkempt appearance that he accepted with a winning grin, all the while wondering if she’d faint at the sight of the flat.

After a while, he was saying his goodbyes, a whispered, “Bye, Maa, love you” that made Trisha’s eyes shine suspiciously with tears.

The sight made him miss his own parents, who were barely a call away for Liam but he didn’t want to disturb their time at Ruth’s house, where they were probably busy doting over Ashton.

He slumped down onto their cream coloured couch, appreciating the feeling of drowning in the cushions before his stomach rumbled uncomfortably.

With a pained groan, he heaved himself up off the couch, rubbing a hand at his sore back, and made his way towards the refrigerator.

Expecting a mostly empty fridge with suspiciously old take-out food, he pulled it open and gaped in surprise at the number of Tupperware containers.

He took one container out and edged it open, sniffing at the contents and smiled surprisingly at discovering it was Zayn’s homemade Karahi chicken.

He excitedly ducked back into the fridge to find a wrapped package that turned out to be naan and moved towards the stove where he hurriedly heated everything up.

Soon, he was sat on their couch in the living room, tearing up at the taste of the familiar food. God, now he was crying over a plate of Karahi chicken. But he couldn’t help it; he missed his husband too much.

***

Liam was about to burst into tears; he was currently sat on the carpeted floor with crossed legs, facing the flat’s main door. A blanket, which Zayn favoured during cold nights, was draped over him, covering his head, shoulders and arms, pooling out onto the floor around him.

In his right hand, he clutched a well-worn shirt of Zayn’s , which used to belong to Liam but didn’t fit him anymore. In his left hand, he gripped at his cellphone, willing it to ring so that Zayn could inform him that he’d landed. He took turns every few minutes, alternating between smelling the shirt and checking his cellphone.

All he had gotten was a “On my way to the airport :)” text and in the next few hours Liam had worn a dent into their lovely carpet and had messed up the flat some more. He was pretty sure his bottom lip was threatening to wobble at this point.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, he heard an electronic beep come from the door, as the red light on the door turned to green and door knob jiggled and twisted.

An excited yelp left Liam as he sat up straight, eyes wide and trained on the door as it swung open to reveal a tired but beautiful Zayn. His head faced the floor as he edged his way in, a bag on his shoulder swaying heavily that he dropped unceremoniously on the floor.

But he soon looked up and stopped short in his tracks, mouth agape at the sight of Liam on the carpet.

For some reason, Liam didn’t have the energy to get up to greet his husband because his limbs weren’t cooperating, so he stayed on the floor and continued to stare hungrily at his husband, seeing him after so long.

Zayn finally snapped out of his shock and moved towards his husband, a concerned expression evident on his face. He kneeled down in front of Liam and cupped his cheeks before whispering, “Liam, you okay, jaan?”

But Liam only made a noise that sounded a lot like ‘meep!’ and leaned into Zayn’s touch heavily, his eyes closing at the touch.

A dozen thoughts whirled through Zayn’s mind, almost all of them concerned and worried for his husband, as he stood up again, heart wrenching at the noise Liam made at the loss of touch. He reached down to hook his arms under his husband’s armpits and pulled him up and with a bit of difficulty, Liam was upright but swaying dangerously.

He nuzzled sweetly into Zayn’s neck, who accepted the warm touch but continued working to get Liam to the bedroom. It was only when he stepped aside that Zayn got a view of the flat.

It looked like Loki had run through it without supervision. The little hyper dog was privy to such behaviour which is why they only isolated him to their LA mansion or his in-laws’ house in London.

Now, Zayn gaped at the mess, couch cushions thrown on the floor, days-old dishes lining the kitchen counter and what looked like a trail of dirty clothes leading up to their bedroom.

What in the world, how did this - ?

He turned his head slightly to look at his husband who was now endearingly staring back with a dreamy expression. Liam blinked slowly at him, his eyes looking unfocused and feverish but a beautiful smile graced his soft features.

Oh no, thought Zayn as he realized he had found the culprit at last. Liam James Malik (as of 2014) was the one who had made an absolute shit of a mess of their flat, their house.

Zayn groaned internally at the sight but his worry for his husband overwhelmed any other thoughts. He needed to sort Liam out first.

Avoiding the mix of clothes and crumpled papers on the floor, he led Liam to their bedroom, kicking aside the mess to avoid either of them stumbling. He pushed Liam towards the washroom, tutting at the sight, and undressed himself before doing the same to his husband.

Liam realized in his half-sleep daze, that he was being undressed by a very naked Zayn. He giggled and patted his husband’s cheek limply before slurring out, “I like where this is going.”

Zayn huffed at him, before he bent down to slip Liam’s joggers off, before quickly leaning over and turning the hot water tap on. He gently guided Liam towards the spray who hooted adorably at the feeling of hot water touching his skin, before joining him in the spacious shower.

What was supposed to be a quick wash and rinse became a battle of limbs as Zayn continuously batted of Liam’s wandering hands and groping fingers that frankly made him blush a little. After a soapy victory, he rinsed himself and Liam off, before reaching out for the towel on the handle bar – only to find it used and slopped over near the laundry basket.

He groaned under his breath, and awkwardly hobbled his way towards their linen closet (something his mother absolutely insisted on them having) and blindingly grabbed a few towels for him and Liam.

When he went back to the washroom, he was greeted to the most adorable sight of Liam, sopping wet with hair dripping on his forehead, body leaning against the wall of the shower, seemingly asleep.

Zayn laughed gently before draping Liam with soft, fluffy towels, drying him with gentle touches and loving pecks all over his face.

Deciding to forego clothes, it was only the two of them, he all but dropped Liam onto their bed, who bounced comically once and twice on his front before going still, breathing deeply.

It was only now that Zayn finally looked around and was reminded of the mess Liam made. God, and he was the slob?

A quick text to for housekeeping to visit them the next afternoon, he too dropped heavily onto the bed, the exhaustion from the flight and taking care of Liam getting to him. Throwing a careless arm over Liam’s waist, he murmured a quiet, “Love you, jaan” (a goodnight tradition they insisted on since being married) and buried his face into a pillow, falling fast asleep.

**

Clearly Zayn was underestimating just how grateful Liam was for taking care of him and his mess, as he lay staring at the ceiling, panting heavily in the aftermath of his husband waking him up with a phenomenal blowjob. His husband lay smugly beside him before he bounded up towards the washroom, all too excited to start the day.

Zayn laughed a little hysterically before chasing Liam into the shower, intent on finishing what his husband started.

**

It was nearing noon in New York as deliciously golden rays of sunlight splashed across the floor of their living room. It bounced off the glass of the coffee table and lit up the hints of yellow in Zayn’s eyes. Liam stared intently at him, taking in the light scruff littering a delicate yet strong jaw, nose ring glinting in the sunlight, and eyelashes fluttering prettily as he looked down at his art pad on which he scribbled and scratched distractedly.

He sighed as he continued admiring his husband’s beauty, hands and arms artfully decorated with carefully chosen tattoos. The black ring sat snugly on his ring finger on the left hand, complementing the mandala. He was wearing a shirt that belonged to Liam, the neck of which was stretched out due to years of use and loose Batman boxers that were a gag gift from Niall on Liam’s 20th birthday.

Joke’s on you, Niall, he wore the shit out of them.

Zayn continued sketching oblivious to Liam’s staring, a fact Liam loved about him; whenever Zayn sat down to sketch something, anything, he was always so absorbed in his activity that he often forgot that he was maybe sat in a radio show where he was supposed to participate in an interview or even at Ashton’s Christening where he had sat for hours in front of the baby’s crib, sketching out the soft features.

Finally, Liam urged his body to move, his need to be close to Zayn overriding any other thought. He crossed the span of the living room in long strides before dropping to his knees, ignoring the little jolt Zayn gave as he finally noticed Liam.

Before he could figure out what Liam was doing, his husband lifted the loose shirt gently before unceremoniously shoving his face under it.

Zayn jumped at the sudden move, gawking at the round shape of Liam’s head under his shirt.

Okay, he had finally lost it, his darling, beautiful, intelligent husband had gone off the –

But Zayn’s internal ramblings all ground to a halt, as he felt soft lips reverently kissing the skin on his stomach, and strong, tattooed arms wound around his waist to grip possessively and hold him in place. Liam breathed in deeply as Zayn sat frozen, unsure of how to proceed.

When a minute passed and Liam’s breath stuttered as he felt those lips purse and tremble dangerously against him, Zayn laid a careful hand on his husband’s shirt covered head.

A mumbled ‘Missed you’ on his skin didn’t go unnoticed by Zayn as he finally relaxed, letting Liam do what he had to, to deal with the unnecessarily constant and painful distances between them. He hummed lightly, cherishing the feeling of lips quirked into a smile as Liam felt more than heard the vibrations of Zayn’s voice.

Yeah, he was gonna be fine now.

[jprologic]

It’s 8:30 am on Saturday morning, and it looks like a bomb went off in my house.  Shameless photos forthcoming…

No shame image #1

No shame image #2

No shame image #3

The past week was consumed with crunch time preparations leading up to Michael’s art show last night.  Right now there are boxes of table décor, trays, and stacks of cocktail napkins on my counter.  The bottom of my insulated cooler bag used to haul the grapes, cheese, crackers etc, is saturated in olive juice.  There is a stack of weekly laundry in a corner in the hallway upstairs – it’s not even in a basket.  There is something mysterious and sticky on the kitchen floor, and a strange smell coming from the trash can.  The only thing that I was able to do yesterday before leaving for the show was to wipe down the bathroom sink, the toilet, and make the beds.  You know what? That is good enough.  All of that mess got us this beautiful food table at the art show…which was DIY’s be myself and a friend:

I wouldn’t have purposefully had an impromptu after party at our house last night, but if I did get stormed with friends at the door, then I wouldn’t have totally died of embarrassment.  The reason is because I have done my cleaning on a cycle for long enough that it can go a week with only touch ups when we get busy.  The cleaning cycle is clutch for a happy and busy life.

I have found that when you put a cleaning cycle into your routine, it takes only 30 minutes to 1 hour per day and everything gets done a little at a time.  This means that the rest of the time you get to live life.

The structure is very easy; there are daily chores like dishes and sweeping, and weekly chores like dusting and vacuuming.  Then there is weekly deep cleaning chores for a specific area.  For instance, week 1 of the month is the kitchen and dining room.  Week 2 is the living room and entry.  You get to customize this to what makes sense for you. Thinking in terms of what makes the most sense is how you beat overwhelm.

The how to…

Cycle cleaning isn’t something I though of, it’s just something that I’ve improved upon and customized for myself.  When I was newly married (the first time), I found this wonderful women online who called herself the Flylady.  Her system is simple and structured broken up into tidbits throughout the week. It is a wonderful launching pad for anyone looking to begin a household cleaning schedule.

I began by using her detailed cleaning lists per room, and then added or subtracted my own tasks based on the needs and layout of my own homes.  By making a master list of everything that I want done room by room, I can do the deeper tasks by rotation and never have to try and remember when the last time I washed the curtains was.  I may not wash the woodwork every month, or even every 3 months, but eventually it does get done because it’s on the list.

Below is a snapshot of my own personal detailed cleaning list.  I didn’t get fancy, I didn’t make a cute printable, it’s just legal paper that I laminated.  When I do a task, I mark it off with a dry erase marker.  When I come back around the following 4-6 weeks, I will start with the tasks that are not marked off.  I also keep a list of all of my household cleaning products at the top so that I can do inventory at the end of my cleaning.  I make a lot of my own cleaners, but when I am low on what I do purchase, I add it to the grocery list.  This way I’m not buying everything all at once…

TIP: Keep your cleaning list on your checklist so you can constantly take inventory

Here are the chores that I do daily:

Wash dishes

Make beds

Deep clean counters & stove top

Sweep floors

Wipe down bathroom pieces

Tidy & put away

Here are the chores that I do weekly:

Laundry & Ironing

Dusting every room

Wash all floors

Prior to partaking in my deep zone cleaning, I make sure that all of my daily and weekly chores are done.  This way if I need to stop for any reason, the bear necessities have been completed.

Take into account your energy levels & lifestyle…

The other aspect of a joyful cleaning cycle is to manage your energy.  I may have too much going on to wash every room’s woodwork every month, but then again there may be a month where it does get done.  Tasks such as cleaning the ceiling fan, washing the inside and outside of the windows, taking down the blinds; these tasks may not get done monthly, but the next time you come though to deep clean you add them in.

In order to build a system that works, considering your lifestyle needs to be a factor.  For instance, to save my kitchen floor, I purchased a weather proof deck box.  It was about $50 and it’s impenetrable.  Since we enter into the house from the backyard most of the time, my personal rule is that I either change my shoes before I leave the barn for home, or put my barn boots in the deck box before entering the house. This is a simple idea that saves me from the inevitable extra sweeping/mopping had I worn the shoes to cross the kitchen and into the basement.  Simple evaluation will be more than helpful in building a sustainable system.

A note on perspective and finding joy in home cleaning

I understand physics.  Energy is in everything no matter how dormant the object.  Energy is what emotions are made up of as well.  Think about how many conversations, good days, bad days, arguments, laughter, grief and the like you have expressed within the walls of your home.  Now imagine those emotions sticking to your walls in the form of dust, dirt and dander.  I like to do this because it’s a great motivation to clean it up.

Dirt is cumulative in the same ways that emotions are when they are not evaluated and released.  Dirt will continue to pile upon dirt until an opposite force opposes it.  After a day of hard living, it is my pleasure to wash away the energetic byproducts of the day so that balance can be restored and a fresh slate prevails for the upcoming morning.  I’m not saying that every single day the house is spotless, I’m saying that I only allow 2 days tops of not doing anything before I go in and cleanse.  After a while you realize that it’s easier and less time consuming to wipe away one layer of dirt rather than 48 hours worth.

House work can be a pleasure if you let it be. For me it’s a time to reconnect with my surroundings and let inspiration hit me for things like design or maintenance.  Other times it can be used as a moving mediation where I practice staying mindful as I let the dirty water going down the drain represent anything feeling or belief that I no longer need.  Really good cleaning products that smell wonderful or that you lovingly make yourself can be yet another element that you add to bring in joy.  For me the sparkly space and some minor décor rearrangements help to remind me that a fresh new day/week is upon me.

In conclusion,

There will be times where you can’t get to the cleaning and tidying will have to be good enough.  This week in particular was a testament to this for me.  We lost someone close to us, and the last thing that any of us wanted to do was clean.  The good news is that since everything is done on a cycle, we had breathing room.  The laundry having been done means that we didn’t run out of necessities.  The floors being done meant that we only had to quickly sweep up…if we had wanted to.  In short, “keeping up”, means that even if you pause to rest or awhile you still won’t fall behind.

  In joyful service,

Bonus: As you start to open up more free time for yourself and your family, take some inspiration from below and make good memories!

  Household Management Series: Simple & Joyful Cleaning It's 8:30 am on Saturday morning, and it looks like a bomb went off in my house.