#grumpy commander heart throb

[ghostymarni]

@foxwithadarkside AAAAAAHHHHH IM GIGGLING!!!! you have absolutely nothing to worry about vod <3 you have made my morning 😍 (kriff me I shouldn’t even be up yet)

I have the biggest grin on my face THIS IS AMAZING!!! <3 I love this + i am obsessed with this whole scene; everyone’s reactions are on point + is so chaotically accurate (also absolutely dying at fox + aev, I’m squealing at this point brb going to keep taking his things) 🤤🤭🤣😍❤️‍🔥🦊✨

Sorry about your block!

How about Gregor cooking in the kitchen? Like with a ridiculous apron on or something?

I think he would make a smiley face breakfast just because he could-

his apron says “free hot dog -> bring your own buns”

[fafnir19]

Genie's lamp - Part VI

The downfall

After a long day of lectures, Lex returned to his home, eager to share the tales of his day with his friend and mentor, Jafar. But as he searched the rooms of their cozy abode, Jafar was nowhere to be found.

Lex's brow furrowed in confusion as he made his way to the magic shop they ran together, hoping to find Jafar there. Lex walked through the dusty shelves of the magic shop, calling out for Jafar. As he rounded a corner, he came face to face with an elegant woman in her late 50s, her sharp gaze piercing through him. "Are you Lex?" she inquired, her voice smooth as. Lex straightened his back, his blue eyes meeting hers. "Yes, I am. How can I be of service?" A smirk played on her lips as she stepped closer, bringing Jafar's lamp into view.

Lex's heart skipped a beat as realization dawned upon him. "Ah, you are the traitor who betrayed my brother Declan. Off in the lamp with you, young genie!" She declared, her voice filled with triumph. A deafening scream erupted from Lex as he felt his body disintegrating into smoke, wisps of his essence spiraling towards the lamp. The world around him blurred into darkness. As the smoke dissipated, Lex found himself trapped within the confines of the lamp. Declan’s sister’s laughter echoed through the lamp, a haunting melody of triumph and satisfaction. Her voice was a chilling symphony as she gloated, "Welcome to your new reality, young genie. I’m Desiree though you will call me Mistress! Your days of freedom are over."

Inside the confines of the lamp, Jafar’s grumpy countenance greeted Lex.

"I guess my freedom lasted not too long. Trapped by this manly woman, that’s really a shame!" Jafar scoffed, his tone laced with bitterness. Sensing his companion's frustration, Lex offered reassurance, "Don’t worry. I bet we will be free again soon." In an attempt to align with Jafar's culture, Lex added, "In schāʾa ʾllāh!"

Unexpectedly, Jafar's reaction was far from the anticipated gratitude. With a sudden surge of fury, Jafar seized Lex by the throat, his grip firm and unyielding. Pushing him roughly against the plush cushions, Jafar's voice dripped with menace as he growled, "Don't call the name of this lowly demon in my Lamp! I’m a Zoroaster, not a Muslim!" Pressing Lex against the wall of the lamp, Jafar towered over him, his dominance palpable. "I was too lenient with you, and I guess I'll have to show you your place again," he declared, his eyes glinting with a dangerous gleam. Lex felt the weight of Jafar pressing down on him, igniting a fire within him that burned with both fear and primal need. "Jafar, please," he gasped, a mixture of fear and desire in his voice. "I'll do anything you ask, just... please." Jafar, relishing in his physical advantage, asserted his control over Lex, reveling in the power he held over the young sorcerer. "You belong to me, Lex," Jafar's voice was a dark promise, laced with a dangerous edge. "You will obey me without question." Lex's breath hitched as Jafar's hands roamed possessively over his body. "Spread your legs for me, Lex," Jafar's voice was a husky command that sent shivers down Lex's spine, his body responding instinctively to the genie's words.

Without hesitation, Lex obeyed, parting his legs to give way for Jafar's throbbing member. "Yes, Master," he whispered, his voice laced with a heady blend of submission and desire as he surrendered to Jafar's will.

Jafar's physical dominance over Lex was palpable, a stark reminder of the power dynamics at play between them. Lex found himself clinging to Jafar's arm, seeking solace in the strength that the genie exuded, both in body and magic. It was in these moments of vulnerability that Lex felt an odd sense of comfort, knowing that Jafar's control over him was absolute. Bound by Jafar's magic, Lex was unable to reach the pinnacle of release without his master's approval, a frustrating constraint that heightened his desire to a fever pitch. Jafar indulged in the raw power he held over Lex, teasing and edging him mercilessly, driving him to the brink of desperation. The pressure to climax built relentlessly, each moment of denial a torturous pleasure that left Lex both yearning and restrained. "You will beg for it, Lex," Jafar's voice was a cruel whisper, sending shivers down Lex's spine. "You will learn your place beneath me." Jafar's eyes gleamed with dark amusement, a predatory glint that spoke of the twisted pleasure he took in dominating Lex. As the tension between them mounted, Jafar finally relented, giving his approval with a single nod that sent a surge of magic coursing through Lex's body. With a cry of ecstasy, Lex found release, his body convulsing with the force of his climax as pleasure washed over him in a tidal wave. "Thank you, Master," Lex gasped, his chest heaving as he lay spent and sated against the cushions. Jafar, his features softened with a glimmer of satisfaction, pulled Lex close for a moment of intimacy, a silent gesture of possessiveness that bound them together in a tangled web of desire and magic.

Jafar spooned Lex with his leg over Lex's hip and his cock still in the warmth of Lex's hole. In the confines of Jafar's embrace,  Jafar's breath lingered against the curve of Lex's ear as he whispered tales of a bygone era. "I was originally a prince in the Achaemenid Empire, in todays Iran, before I was transformed into a genie and trapped in this lamp," Jafar's voice held a hint of bitterness, a relic of centuries spent in confinement.

"I needed to witness when the Muslims conquered my Realm and I couldn’t do anything against it, as I was trapped in the lamp." Lex felt a surge of empathy for the genie, his heart aching for the loss and helplessness Jafar had endured. "I can't imagine how difficult that must have been for you," Lex murmured, his voice soft with understanding. With an arrogant smirk, Jafar added, "Not that I particularly valued my subjects, but the fact that Islam made them dumber day by day and that my once prosperous empire became poorer and poorer, really sucks me!" Lex's brow furrowed in contemplation, conflicted by Jafar's words. "I... I had no idea," he admitted in shame that he has mistaken Jafar for a Muslim. "I'm a Zoroaster," Jafar declared, his words cutting through the hushed intimacy like a blade. "And I despise Islam with every fiber of my being. As the smart boy you are, you should share in my disdain for the destructive superstition of the Arabs that razed my empire!"

Suddenly Lex and Jafar were conjured out of the cramped confines of the lamp by Desiree's powerful command, they materialized in the opulent living room of a grand Wilhelminian villa. The notorious Desiree greeted them with a smirk that spoke volumes of her cunning demeanor.

"I always knew that Declan was too weak to handle a genie. But now it’s my turn, and you two will serve me obediently and faithfully!" Desiree's sharp eyes swept over them, sizing them up for her own purposes. "Jafar will be my butler and shall wear a tux. And as for you, Lex..." Her gaze lingered on him for a moment. "You remind me of the Greek statues in my garden. A thong will suffice for you. Jafar, that is my wish." Jafar nodded in acquiescence, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Consider it done, mistress." With a flick of his hand, Jafar was adorned in a sleek tuxedo befitting a butler, his dark charm accentuated by the formal attire.

In contrast, Lex felt a shiver run down his spine as he realized what was to come. With a wave of Jafar's hand, Lex found himself clad in nothing but a revealing thong that left little to the imagination, his toned physique on display for all to see. Desiree's lips curled into a satisfied smile as she observed them. Jafar has become just a tuxedo-clad butler and Lex ... nothing more than a provocative thong-clad figure at Desiree's whims and desires.

"Now, let the servitude begin," she purred, her voice laced with undeniable authority. Lex could feel the weight of her gaze bearing down on him, a reminder of his new role in her twisted game. Jafar, ever the compliant servant, stood by Desiree's side, his demeanor composed yet tinged with a dangerous edge. Lex couldn't help but feel a mix of apprehension and a strange thrill at the unfolding events. He knew that in this new dynamic, he would need to tread carefully to navigate the treacherous waters ahead. As the realization of their fate sank in, Lex glanced at Jafar, seeking some semblance of reassurance or guidance in his captivating gaze. Jafar's eyes met his with a mix of amusement and something darker, a silent promise of the trials to come.

One fateful day, Desiree hosted her bridge group, a gathering of elderly women, in the sprawling garden adorned with statues of muscular Greek athletes.

Lex, clad in nothing but the revealing thong, attended to their every desire, serving tea, biscuits, and gin with a forced smile. The elderly women, emboldened by the spirits and the summer breeze, grew bolder in their advances towards Lex. Their wrinkled hands roamed his supple skin, the gin giving them courage to touch him where they pleased, causing uncomfortable shivers down his spine.

As the raucous bridge group of elderly women bid their farewells, Desiree's eyes drifted to Lex with a sinister glint. "I like young toy boys. They make me feel alive!" she purred, leading Lex to her bedchamber.

Lex, with a mix of trepidation and excitement, obliged her whims, beginning their encounter with slow, seductive movements. "I'm here to please, Mistress Desiree," Lex's voice dripped with false sweetness.

He began to pleasure her, each movement precise and deliberate, igniting a fire within her that burned with a dangerous intensity. The room echoed with Desiree's moans as Lex quickened his pace, a sly grin tugging at his lips. Desiree's protests fell on deaf ears as he thrusted deeper and faster, driving her to cry out, "Not so wild, young stallion!" Ignoring her pleas, Lex pressed on with an escalating fervor, a devilish grin dancing on his face. Desiree's features began to shift, her once fair skin darkening, her elegant nose widening with each thrust. The realization dawned on her like a cruel sunrise - she was transforming into a black woman. "Stop it, you bastard!" she cried out, her words laced with fear and anger. Yet Lex's grin only widened, a predator reveling in his prey's torment. Panic set in as she pleaded with Lex to stop, but his devilish grin only widened. "Embrace the change, Desiree. You'll thank me later," Lex's words were laced with malice. Desiree's attempts to push Lex away revealed a horrifying truth – his cock sported barbs akin to a tomcat's, tearing at her flesh as she struggled. In a desperate bid to rid herself of Lex's relentless onslaught, she pushed him away with all her might, the pain unbearable. When Lex pulled out, her womb, which was hanging on the barbs of Lex's cock, was also ripped out. Eventually her womb protruded from her body, morphing into a masculine appendage, her breasts vanished, leaving her a muscular black man. "What have you done to me?" Desiree's voice trembled with fear and confusion. Outraged and bewildered, Desiree demanded answers from Lex, "How could you transform me into a black man? And why?" Lex, reveling in his dominance, replied with a chilling grin, "I wouldn't consider you human anymore!" Just then, realization struck Desiree – horns adorned her head, marking her transformation into a minotaur. In agony, she screamed, but Lex's words sealed her fate, "You will be a perfect addition to my garden." With a snap of his finger, Desiree's form solidified into a black marble statue, a silent testament to Lex's cruelty and power. The room fell into an eerie silence, broken only by Lex's satisfied chuckle as he surveyed his handiwork, a twisted smile playing on his lips.

As Lex placed the marble minotaur in the center of the fountain niche, a glint of mischief danced in Jafar's eyes. Approaching with a sly grin, he remarked, "That was really funny, that she thought you are a genie as well and need to obey her." Lex chuckled softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Yes, it was quite the performance, wasn't it? Though I must admit, holding back my laughter was a challenge," he admitted, his tone light and carefree. Observing Lex's attire, Jafar arched an eyebrow in curiosity. "I must ask, why are you still wearing that peculiar thong?" he inquired, his gaze lingering on Lex's revealing garment. A playful smirk tugged at Lex's lips as he swiftly tore the thong off, standing unabashedly naked amidst the greenery of the garden. "Ah, much better. I deserve to relish my freedom in this newfound paradise," Lex declared, his confidence shining through his every move.

With Jafar's nod of agreement, they made their way back to the villa, their footsteps echoing through the grand halls. Trevor, their loyal stallion, now housed in a lavish stable within the mansion's grounds, greeted them with a contented whinny. As they passed by the fountain once more, Desiree's marble form stood frozen in perpetual agony, the water cascading over her head in an unending cycle. She could still sense the world around her and the flowing water seemed to whisper mad whispers, driving her further into the depths of insanity. Her eyes, frozen in perpetual agony, bore witness to the newfound freedom of Lex and Jafar, a stark reminder of her own folly and downfall. Lex gazed at her with a mixture of fascination and satisfaction, knowing that she would forever remain a testament to his dark sorcery.

Desiree's silent screams echoed in the garden, a haunting reminder of the price of crossing paths with the likes of Lex and Jafar.

[fanfictilltheend]

As promised (since I'm late sorry 😭) Snippet 5 of ❤️‍🔥Violent Heart❤️‍🔥 aka stepdad!mechanic!convict!joel x afab!reader fic

I SWEAR I WROTE THIS BEFORE HE WORE THIS OUTFIT ON GOD I LITERALLY SPOKE IT INTO EXISTENCE YOU CAN THANK ME BELOW 👇

Warnings: Nothing crazy just joel admiration and dressing him up 😍

Context: Joel is Y/N's ex step-father. He just got out of prison for killing David and Y/N (age 20) takes Joel shopping for a new wardrobe.

HERE IS A LINK TO A MASTERLIST OF VIolent Heart STUFF TO TIDE YOU OVER

You take Joel shopping. At his insistence it is nothing fancy, just the local department store. That doesn’t stop you from dressing Joel up in ridiculous outfits of your choosing. You make him try on a hawaiian shirt, some golf polos like your dad liked to wear, a pinstripe suit and he lets you because saying no to you has never been in his vocabulary. He acts grumpy on the outside, but you can tell he is amused. You know in the end you’ll just end up buying every flannel shirt and jeans combo they have in the store, but it’s just fun anyway. You watch the fabric hug his torso, his tummy, the slight bulge at his waist. At one point he comes out shirtless and you try very hard not to swoon as you stare at the hair lining his chest and his adorable little tummy that you for some reason have the urge to bite. The band of his Hanes boxers sticks up past his jeans and he looks so good. He even lets out a genuine smile. The middle-aged sales attendant who is helping you even takes a good look at him which makes the butterflies inside you swarm possessively. 

Finally you make him try on a proper white-collared button-down shirt and black dress pants with matching black shoes and he looks so good you’re actually at a loss for words when he asks you what you think. They hug the curves and lines and planes of his body so nicely. All you can do is ask him to put on a black tie to match and he does at your behest following some customary griping that he would never wear such a monkey suit in the first place. The effect that a fully dressed up Joel has on you is not one to be reckoned with. He might as well be wearing the mens version of lingerie for how it makes you throb and ache between your legs. He looks like a force of nature, commanding and tall. It makes you weak. All you say is,

“Looking good, old-timer.”

He snorts.

HERE IS A LINK TO A MASTERLIST OF VIolent Heart STUFF TO TIDE YOU OVER

[nekomacheercaptain]

Day 15: Trafalgar Law x fem! reader

I just think he would appreciate a nice set of lingerie...

Word count: 0,8K

Content: lingerie, female reader, fingering (not much), vaginal sex, use of "good girl", "doll" and "whore"

Surprising your boyfriend proved itself to be an impossible mission, as it seemed he always was one step ahead of you, somehow always just knowing what was going on inside that head of yours. However, he would never guess what kind of boutique you visited on your last island, when you begged to go shopping alone. Well, he heard the word ‘shopping’ and immediately left you alone, it not being of any interest to him. Jackpot. Your little escapade gained you an attire you were sure would have his tongue tied; a sight you yearned to see and experience from your stoic, composed lover.

So, after successfully getting him to leave his study and actually go to your shared cabin in the submarine, you managed to give yourself time to change before he arrived (grumpy, might you add).

“Y/n, what was so important that I had to-”

And there it was. The reaction you wanted, his adam’s apple bobbing while his eyes widened at your silhouette, eyes scanning every part of your body where you sat comfortably on the bed.

Eyes darting over the sheer black lace with floral print that left nothing to the imagination, a poor excuse for a bra decorating your chest, your nipples covered by two pieces of tape shaped like hearts beneath. How cheesy, but by judging his slack jaw, you knew he loved it. Tracing his eyes lower, a lacey garterbelt that hugged your stomach and accentuated your waist welcomed his gaze, and his mind wandered, realizing what a wonderful grip it would make while he fucked you from behind. His cock was already throbbing while his eyes travelled down the straps of the garterbelt, lingering over your laced panties, a cute floral print covering them, matching the bra. His final destination - or at least what he thought was the last part of your outfit, were the thigh highs connected to the straps of the garter belt with cute bows, and his chest was heaving, and you drooled at the very visible bulge in his pants. You couldn’t wait till he saw the main attraction.

“What do you think?” and fuck he loved when you teased him, but he’d be damned if he let you win by flustering him.

“Stand up” his voice barely hiding the strain he needed to sound calm and collected, trying to ignore the furious blush dusting his cheeks.

You ignored his command, and smiled while biting your lower lip, slowly spreading your legs, sure to show him something that would have him trembling in front of you; and you were right, seeing his breath knock out of his chest. And there it was, the final attraction; a slit in your panties showing your glistening pussy in all its glory.

And he had lost, completely and utterly defeated by you. He didn’t have any other words that could describe the sight he was seeing and the painful arousal he was experiencing other than a deep and shaky ‘fuck’ that passed through his lips, his brows knitted together in disbelief. With weak knees he managed to stalk towards you, and to your shock he fell to his knees in front of you.

“Law? What are you-“

“You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?” he grunted out with a small snarl, placing a bite on your inner thigh, making you hiss, “Forcing me away from my study, just to see you wearing this? To tempt me?”.

Not allowing you a chance to talk, his tattooed fingers plunged inside of your soaked cunt, and he smirked, “I don’t even have to prepare you to take my cock,” in a swift motion, the doctor had you pinned beneath him on the bed, forcing your knees against your chest while unbuckling his pants, “how long have you been playing with yourself today, doll? How long have you been waiting for me to fuck you in this?”.

“I-I bought it-“

And his eyes glittered maliciously, a small grin taking over his features as he slammed his cock into your cunt with a harsh thrust, feeling your walls clamp around his girth at the intrusion.

“How long have you been planning this?”

“Fuck! Law - ngh - so long!”

“Good girl,” he chuckled while keeping his hungry eyes at your features contorted in pleasure, “now that you sound and look like a whore, doll, you’ll get fucked like one”.

Law was a man of few words, but always a keeper of his promises. You had to buy more lingerie if you wanted him to make you gush all over his cock for hours at a time.

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed it!

[doodle-pops]

Modern AU: CEO! Caranthir

SFW and NSFW Headcanons

A/N: Caranthir joins us for the House of Feanor modern AU.

SFW

⊰ CEO! Caranthir who…was overly judgemental about you during your interview and questioned you on every little possible problem he could manage before growing frustrated by your ability to respond perfectly. Critiquing you from head to toe and watching your body language with hawk eyes, you felt all flushed with fever.

⊰ CEO! Caranthir who…always paid attention to all his workers and observed your every action. Every morning he arrived at work, he would glance over all his worker's faces to ensure that everyone was well and present. He would grumble a ‘good morning’ in a tired grumpy voice and get a cheery response which gave him whiplash.

⊰ CEO! Caranthir who…watched you in particular like a hawk because no matter how much workload he drops on you, you’re always cheery and it made his heart swell with pride. To him, you were the epitome of hardworking. You always obeyed his commands and directive order without complaining.

⊰ CEO! Caranthir who…felt more power and control whenever he gave you an order and you followed it, unlike his other workers who grumbled and complained behind his back. He loved the rush of power you gave him, and he couldn’t help but want more.

⊰ CEO! Caranthir who…makes you visit his office whenever there’s paperwork to bring in. He refuses to let someone else deliver them all for the sake of bossing you around. The way you responded, it flowed naturally from your lips, and he adored that. He would never abuse his power over you though, only giving you your job descriptions and extra.

⊰ CEO! Caranthir who…held you in his eyes higher than all his workers and respected you the most. He would reserve his ‘good mornings’ and ‘good days’ just for you. He would even pass through your office to deliver reports and stop for small talk. He hated to admit it, but he was growing fond of you.

⊰ CEO! Caranthir who…unknowingly to everyone, cuts out a small portion of his day to visit you in your office and make small talk. He once ordered you lunch after dumping a ton of paperwork on you during the day. He felt sorry.

**

NSFW

⊰ CEO! Caranthir who…was frustrated one late evening by the mess up of buying stocks from another company. You had walked in to deliver your final reports noticed how tense your boss was and asked if there was anything you could do. Someone couldn’t help but have their thoughts drift in a particular direction as a source of relieving his stress.

⊰ CEO! Caranthir who…couldn’t help but ask you what you were willing to do as a means of providing relief and wasn’t surprised when you responded with ‘whatever helps relieve your stress sir’. It was the ‘sir’ that made his cock throb, and it didn’t take him long to have you on your knees before him and his cock down your throat.

⊰ CEO! Caranthir who…was enjoying the feeling of your mouth on him but couldn’t help but ask every few minutes if you were okay with doing this. You had to prove your point by taking control of his actions and bringing him to his high. It was then, that he realized that you were a keeper.

⊰ CEO! Caranthir who…requests that you keep this a secret between you both but visit his office during late hours when he’s staying back. He’s rough with his movements since he’s always stressed, and loves to push you down on any surface he could manage. Never does he let you control or take over and he loves that you obey his commands as he whispers them in your ear.

⊰ CEO! Caranthir who…wishes for you to act out of turn one day so he could brat tame you, and he pushes you to do that. He’ll finger you until you're approaching your high and stop right before you cum and watch as you get angry with him. It urged him to spank you for the rest of the session and send you back to work until later. He’ll rub your ass and mock you before he drives his cock in and push your head into the table.

⊰ CEO! Caranthir who…like a sugar daddy, buys you lingerie to wear under your work attire so you could look pretty for him when he’s taking you. Instead, he just rips everything off and quickly mentions that he’ll buy you more before bending you over the table or couch. He undresses you but never fully undresses himself and makes you call him as 'Sir/daddy'.

⊰ CEO! Caranthir who…takes you to his home one evening and has dinner with you before fucking in his king-size bed with silk and satin sheets. He makes you stay the night and showers you in aftercare not before taking you more rounds. The next day, he’ll have a fresh suit of clothes waiting for you and bring you to work.

⊰ CEO! Caranthir who…begins to fuck you during the day and cums in your underwear, forcing you to wear it for the rest of the day and not let one drop go to waste. He considers you his babygirl and treats you like you're with him and even calls you 'princess/babygirl' as he's taking you. He's easily jealous when other's flirt with you and this leads to rough jealous sex after and during work hours.

⊰ CEO! Caranthir who…loves to watch you leave his office squirming because you’re trying to prevent his cum from spilling and your legs were almost broken. He cuts you some slack and allows you to wear flats because of this.

⊰ CEO! Caranthir who…can’t help but realize he’s in love with you mid-fucking and asks for you to be his lover before making love to you for the rest of the night.  

Masterlist

Taglist: @spidergirla5 @welcometomordor @eunoiaastralwings

[nevereverlandboys]

Different Pulses 

Pairing: Felix x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: After Pan gets defeated, Y/N and Felix live together in Storybrooke with the "heroes". They both don't get along and seem to avoid each other, until the "heroes" need to leave them alone to save Henry from another threat. Will Y/N get along with the cold, distant boy?

Part: (1/?)

@madd-devil

This story is heavily inspired by "When it's cold" by:

@the-original-weirdo-83

@peter-pan-on-neverland

Y/N's eyes wandered through the small room, from the small bed to the huge window, stopping at the small drawer underneath it, before finally stepping further in. The walls were dyed light blue and besides a big clock and a flat screen they were empty. There was nothing unusual with this room, nothing really striking and yet it still felt a little strange. She walked forwards and ripped the dark curtains away, opening the window to welcome the golden sunlight into the room, warming her skin. The air smelled different and even the birds chirped in another tune. It seemed as if this world was quieter than the other, less dangerous and more welcoming. For a moment Y/N was soaked into the moment and drifted off into her thoughts, as suddenly some cursing in the next room ripped the girl out of her thoughts. With an annoyed snarl, she rolled her eyes and let herself drop onto the small bed, trying to ignore the sounds that probably came from the grumpy former second in command. After all, he still did not like being taken from Neverland, as he found himself with Y/N in a new home in Storybrooke. He still did not fit in and fought with everything he had to integrate. The second in command was stubborn and feisty, hot-tempered and constantly in a bad mood. Felix had barely granted Y/N a smile since they came off the Island and after he was brought into Mary Margaret's and David Charmings flat, everything went worse. The lost boy usually locked himself up inside his room, stayed there until after dinner to grab himself the leftovers, before vanishing back behind the wooden door. He never seemed to understand the technology around him, not even trying to understand it, but getting angry instead if it did not work out like he had imagined it to.  Y/N on the other hand, found herself in a healthy relationship with her hosts real quick. They took it as their own responsibility to take both of them in, after Pan was defeated. Felix, because he was the most stubborn boy that would never find his peace in an orphanage and Y/N, because she was the only girl next to Wendy that lived with the lost boys. After all this time on the island, she found herself being close to Henry as well. The small, young boy was like a little brother to her, making the girl laugh and joining her whenever Mary Margaret would allow them to go out. She was a careful woman and even though she trusted Y/N, there was no reason for her not to be cautious. Also Y/N suspected Mary  not to act like granting the girl a privilege while Felix was still being guarded. 

Another loud yell from behind those walls disturbed the girls' peaceful daydreams once more, so she grabbed the pillow and pressed it over her head to muffle all the sound, trying her best to ignore everything around. It was a day too pretty for this and Y/N only wanted to relax, but not a few minutes of delightful silence later, she heard a knock on the wooden door. Moving her body properly under the sheets, she faced the door and mumbled just loud enough,"Come in."

The door swung open and revealed the former second in command's worried face, his sweaty hair hung down his face and he breathed so loud that the girl could literally feel anger flooding in the room. The atmosphere turned immediately tense and the room seemed to shrink around her with each second passing. Y/N held her breath and raised one eyebrow in confusion, trying her best to hide her insecurities behind a questioning look, as the lanky, blonde boy's eyes pierced her urgently. 

"Where is the little rat?" Felix spoke in a hoarse tone. 

"The ra-" She started confused. "Oh."

Henry.

"He took my cloak." Felix raged. "Where is the bastard, so I can smite him!"

"It's in the laundry." Y/N interrupted him before Felix would even try to hurt Henry and give him the fault for her doings. She found it in the bathroom and washed it along with the other laundry. The girl's voice was almost inaudible, well knowing the boy's temper from all the countless encounters with the other lost boys. Felix's eyes twitched and he gritted his teeth as he slowly came closer, one step after another, to close the distance that kept her away from him, the only distance that gave the girl at least a little bit of comfort. Henry could be glad to have to spend the time with the grumpy lost boy on weekends only. How much she envied him.

"What?" He snarled with his face just a few centimeters away from hers and for a moment her mind went blank, the only impulse she felt was to storm out of the room. As she crashed to the door, Y/N did not even bother to look back and swiftly grabbed her shoes and keys before leaving the apartment.  The door swung shut with a loud crash that echoed through every room as Felix swayed back in his own room, every cell inside him questioning why his heart felt so heavy. Y/N was not even sure if the lanky boy bothered to chase after her and if her actions seemed a little exaggerated, but when Felix built himself up in front of her, the girl's heart sank into the bottom of her body and fear overtook her mind. The former lost boy had been cruel to other boys for less than that.

She did not stay out for long, simply walked around the block to get some fresh air and to get some space from the tall boy. Also, because she knew that Mary would be mad if she was not home when the woman returned. The first week did not start well and Y/N let out a frustrated sight as she thought of the future. Mary and David left her alone with him half of the day, having the boy locked up in his room was not consoling though, the fact alone that he was present was enough to make her feel nervous. When she returned to the apartment, Felix was nowhere in sight, so she quickly snuck back into her room, hoping that he would leave her alone for the rest of the day. On the other hand, she had to make sure that he would not hurt Henry, the poor boy did nothing wrong. For a moment Y/N hesitated until she decided to get Felix's cloak from the washing line on the balcony. Not a surprise that the asshole did not know it was there, when he never left his room. Still, the girl felt a little curious when she thought of what he might do all day by himself- especially with no understanding of technology. Was he not bored? There was no convincing answer that she could think of and Y/N wondered if she would find out as she strutted with the big cloak in her hands towards Felix's room. She  knocked at the door and immediately regretted it after the previous events. Nevertheless she tried to be brave and push her fear aside, telling herself that the former second in command was not threatening at all.

She knocked again when nothing happened and suddenly some angry footsteps stomped into her direction-, firm and loud, before the tall boy ripped the door wide open, revealing his furious face.

"What the fuck do you want?" Felix growled, the veins of his neck throbbing and his hands pressed so tightly into fists that his knuckles turned white. 

"I-...eh." Y/N stammered nervously and tightened her grip onto the cloak. Her eyes widened as she thought, He would not hurt me, would he? "I have your-"

"Keep that!" Felix interrupted her, his words were like poison.

Felix slammed the door shut before  the girl could say another  word, leaving her in the dark hallway with an unsettling feeling inside her guts that something was wrong. But how could she even tell what? Felix never spoke to her that much and it was pretty obvious that he would not do more in the future. All Y/N knew was that the grumpy boy missed the island and that he missed Pan, even though the girl never understood his obedience to the green devil. Peter Pan was manipulative and evil and she was glad he never left Neverland alive. Felix couldn't give her the fault for his loss, she had never helped the heroes and even refused as the only one next to him to say a word. Well, Y/N opened up quicker and befriended the "heroes" after everything they did. It was a saint if she could speak freely about it. The cloak must mean a lot to Felix, or else he would never be this angry, even for a boy who had a tendency to violence-, he never hurt Y/N before. She really hoped he would take it back and overcome his rage. The idea that Felix might only looked for a reason to hate Henry more occured her a few minutes later, but it was an unspoken thought that seemed to be way too assumptious.

"I am sorry about Peter." She moved her forehead onto the wooden door, resting it there for a bit and after a while she watched a single tear drop down onto the ground. Peter was not completely evil, not to Y/N at least and deep inside he was a loss to her as well. There was a short time where Felix seemed to be nice too, back on Neverland just weeks before Peter got defeated. He had shown the girl a flower field and tickled her until some boy's would crossy their way and disturb that lovely moment. It was the first and only time he had ever been close in a comforting way. Since then, Y/N had always hoped to see the boy underneath this rusty shell, but it was all gone since the second he stepped off the boat.

The door stayed closed and she stared at Felix's cloak, wondering what to do with it. When Y/N returned to her own room and snuck underneath the covers, the cloak was still under her arm. It did not smell like Felix anymore. The ticking of the clock was the only sound filling the room, capturing the girl's eyes to check the time- six pm. It was late, almost time for Mary Margaret to come back from work and cook some dinner, and when it was time for Y/N to sleep, David would come home too and Emma would come tomorrow, to bring Henry over for the weekend. Y/N barely saw David. He was always busy with his work in the police station and would get home late in the night. He left Felix and her up to Mary and Emma, which was definitely a hard task thinking of the rebellious boy next to Y/N's room. The man could not stand the former lost boy, the girl had seen it in his eyes when Emma brought her onto the ship, back then,  from escaping Neverland. Felix's emotions seemed mutual and everyone around could sense it. That both of them were separated most of the time, was not so bad after all. Mary Margarett even tried to take it as an opportunity to get to know more about the former lost boy, but all her attempts failed. The boy kept shut, would not reveal his past and barely replied to any of the woman’s actions. It was tiring to watch, quite a show though. It seemed like a boring game of charade, in which Mary kept asking him countless questions and then tried to interpret his annoyed growls as he ate some cereal. Breakfast was a strict rule for him to join and dinner to avoid. 

Y/N rolled over and grabbed her phone, turning some music on to change her thoughts and kill the silence. Even though it was so early, she felt how her eyelids were getting heavy, how she slowly drifted off into sleep, using the cloak as a pillow. Throwing it away was not an option for her, there could always come a time where the former lost boy would demand it back. 

It felt like a whole night when the girl woke up from a strange feeling of someone pulling on something underneath her. Out of reflex, she tightened the grip on the cloak in her arms. The pulling got stronger and when she realised that this was not a dream, she slowly opened her tired eyes.

"I changed my mind." Felix scoffed. "I want it back."

With a mind still dizzy and drunk from sleep, Y/N's sight was still so blurry, that it was hard to catch up and she needed a moment to follow the lost boy's words. He obviously meant the cloak, but why did he make such a fuss about it when he did not want it in the first place? 

"Y/N?" He pronounced her name so carefully when he realised her eyes were closing again. She did not respond. 

The sound of Felix's knees hitting the floor startled the girl out of sleep, finding herself sitting bolt upright in bed, pressing the cloak with widened eyes tightly against her chest. He let out an amused chuckle, grinning from ear to ear. Being fully awake now, Y/N realised why the tall boy was here and she slowly reached her hand forward, handing the boy his cloak over. What the hell did he do in the middle of the night inside her room? Why could this not wait? Her eyes wandered to her phone on the small nightstand-, it was eight pm and winter. It caused the girl to genuinely laugh to herself.

"Sorry for washing it." She whispered meek, avoiding Felix's gaze and dropped her head back onto the pillow before turning  away from him to close her eyes. 

"It's all right." With that Felix quickly made his way back to his own room, the door closing so quick as if he had run.

The next day he kept quiet, did not say a word at breakfast, not even a snarky comment towards Henry who was constantly talking about one of his favourite movies and its heroes. The word 'hero' usually was enough to make the former lost boy explode. Not this time. His steel like eyes were glued onto his bowl as he ate in silence. Later he would sit in the living room, watching some TV that Henry forgot to turn off and would not even complain when Y/N joined and switched the channel. For a moment she felt his eyes burning on her skin. When she met his gaze, the former lost boy rose to his feet and walked away, slamming his door to confirm he was in his room now. Felix was strange and not the friendliest boy for sure. Still, Y/N had the feeling that there was more behind his behaviour that he would let her on and that he exaggerated an act. Mary would give her some tasks over the time like getting the groceries, which she would really appreciate doing, since it was a great way to get out. Y/N and Felix were no prisoners of course and the cold of the thick snow creeping in from the outside would keep her under her covers anyway. There never has been snow on Neverland. It was entirely strange and yet so familiar, waking a nostalgic feeling inside the girl. When Y/N found her way to the grocery store, there was no one to harm her and she had all the time she needed to wander through the different Isles and shove anything she liked into the shopping cart. There were no lost boys with spears and torches, that would hunt the girl down until her feet would bleed. No Pan that played his dangerous, manipulative games, that only entertained him in a twisted, sadistic way,  satisfying him, that it could already be a kink. 

It was freedom. 

The good snacks from the store disappeared immediately inside the drawer, keeping it safe from Henry or Felix. Both had the tendency to steal Y/N's food. She would often cook for herself, learning new skills since there was nothing else to do anyways. As soon as Mary returned, the girl hoped she would bring some more groceries, but she got disappointed. The snow held her off too long, the mood to go into the supermarket was simply gone and Y/N could understand that.

"You can go with Henry." She smiled and grabbed herself something to drink from the fridge. 

"When will he be here?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow as she waited for an answer. The short haired woman slowly turned around, her face seemed to be frozen in an unbelieving, perplexed and slightly fearing frown.

"Isn't he here alr-" She stopped and both of their heads shot into the same direction when a key was put inside the front lock, turning and unlocking the door. The girl expected the young boy to get home, instead, Emma stormed into the apartment, shortly followed by David and the girl already saw on their faces that something was wrong. Mary let go of what she was doing and closed the distance between them with quite some concern on her face.

"They took Henry!" Emma bursted out, her eyes searching the room as if her son could just hide somewhere and would just magically appear any moment. She looked full of hope. David gently rubbed her back and told Mary to get her things. They always seemed to find trouble and now Y/N finally understood what Felix meant, when he once claimed that their hero being was only a facade and they were the true danger. Were they? Henry was gone and that was because he was so important to these women.

"Who took him?" Y/N asked worriedly.

"Stay out of this, you are not a part of this." Emma ignored the question and  gently shoved the former lost girl out of her way to get her keys. She ripped the door wide open and jumped down the hallway without bothering to close it, expecting the others to follow quickly. 

"We will get Henry back." Mary turned to Y/N, trying to comfort her by holding her hands. "You don't have to worry."

It was not the young boy she worried about and the short haired woman knew that. With a quick glance back to Felix's closed door, Y/N gulped and immediately shook her head.

"I can come with you!" She protested at the thought of being all alone with the former second in command.

"No," Mary said and sighted. "I need you here."

Her gaze wandered off to Felix's door again and her look grew frustrated. Y/N followed with her eyes and nodded before facing the short haired woman again. She turned to the counter and grabbed her purse to pull out her wallet.  Then she collected all the money she had and put it in a sugar box inside the shelf. 

"I trust you enough." Her words meant a lot. "Besides, once in a while Regina will check up on you two."

With that, Mary Margaret turned around and gave David a final nod, before both of them left the apartment to join their daughter in the car. As soon as Y/N closed the door behind them, everything went into an uncomfortable silence. There was no single sound instead of the unbearable striking of the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. 

"Great." Y/N moaned quietly. At least they could have told her who took Henry and for what possible reason. The adults would always seem to know better and in this case they decided it would be better to keep Felix and her out of this. Did they really want to leave her out of it, or was Y/N just not to be trusted? Felix would easily try to convince her about that. The former lost boy probably would not  care  at all. It was smart of Mary Margaret to hide some money for Y/N. The fridge was almost empty and she wondered how long they would be away and when she would need food. There was nothing good inside it, nothing appealing, so  Y/N closed the door and strutted back to her room. Dropping into the sheets, she grabbed the remote next to her pillow and turned on the TV. Henry had shown her how to use it real quick as he often joined the girl to play video games. All those years living here and using all these things caused him to always be smarter and it was the first thing Y/N noticed that Felix disliked about him. At the end, there were countless things the scarred up boy hated, but Henry was always the center of his anger. 

With the time passing by, the rumbling in the girl's stomach got louder until her tummy literally screamed for something to eat. Back in the kitchen, there was still nothing  appealing and with a quick glance to Felix's wooden door, she wondered if the former lost boy would like to eat something too. Each step further towards his room felt more heavy and Y/N's stomach turned inside out. The moment her knuckles knocked against the cool wood, she questioned why she even tried to be nice and get along with him. The floor was cold, maybe she should have put on some socks or turned on the heater. There was no sound on the other side of the wood and Y/N started to wonder if Felix was even home, when suddenly some heavy footsteps slowly strutted closer. Felix swayed the door wide open and rubbed his tired eyes, then rested his heavy head on the doorframe. He only wore some grey sweatpants, revealing his scars on his pale chest. The air around the girl thickened and her body heated up at the sight of his messy, sweaty morning hair. 

"Sorry." She mumbled and avoided looking at him. His presence alone caused shivers to run down her spine. "Did I wake you?"

"M-hm." Felix grumbled tiredly, fighting to keep his eyes open. Y/N's eyes wandered back to the open kitchen and its clock. It was four o'clock.

"Are you hungry?"

The tall boy remained silent for a moment, his dull eyes staring at the girl as if he did not understand the question, turned to look at his bed, then slightly nodded with his head as if it was the hardest thing to do.

"I could eat." He spoke with a deep, raspy voice, laying his focus back onto Y/N. Fuck, he sounded so hot, it caught her off guard and left her unable to speak for a glimpse moment. 

"I am ordering food." She said after a small moment. "What would you like?"

Felix pressed his brows together, then lifted one in confusion. "How does that work?" He asked and Y/N chuckled in amusement, feeling how her stiffened limbs relaxed. 

"You choose a restaurant and then decide what you want to eat." She explained and showed the blonde boy her phone. "They deliver it and you pay."' 

"Ah."

Y/N were not sure if Felix was not understanding it, or simply did not like it. He brought his hands up to his arms and rubbed the scarred skin, feeling how cold it was and finally bothered to put on a T-shirt. If Y/N were honest with herself, she liked Felix's exposed back. Muscles danced under tender flesh, as arms stretched upon the ceiling, forward and crooked together, pulling the cotton over his chest. Back on Neverland, Felix always seemed to be violent and rough, harsh to others and never in a good mood. There has not changed much, yet the dangerous, threatening touch was missing since he came to Storybrooke with Y/N. He was bent to new rules now. 

"Pizza." Felix said and stepped closer, closing the distance and bent down to take a glimpse of the menu. "Do they have some?"

Y/N's skin started to prickle when she felt his breath against her cheek and immediately froze in place. Why was he so close? 

"You know Pizza?" She asked unsure, still a little curious. Felix smirked and let out a husky chuckle. "Sure I do."

He walked past her into the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water, gulped it down, filled another one, gulped it down, but when he repeated that for a third time, the second in command could not finish it and disposed of the remains in the sink.  He turned around to check the time and widened his eyes as he realised how late it already was.

"The days are dark during winter." The boy mentioned with a side-along gaze, as if he knew that she might have criticised him for sleeping that long. Y/N did not know how to respond, but was confident enough to join the tall boy in the kitchen, pulling the chair back and taking a seat at the table. Both of them did not say a word and with each second passing in silence, she regretted sitting there with him even more. 

"Why did you run from me earlier?" The question caught her off guard, she needed a moment to think for the right answer. The girl tilted her head in Felix's direction, his eyebrows were lifted up in a questioning look and he leaned at the counter, waiting for the girl to open her mouth and speak.  He was just curious, not too gruff nor angry. 

"You scare me sometimes." Y/N admitted. "It's like being back in Neverland."

The former lost boy nodded disappointed and shifted his gaze out of the window to hide half of his features as if she would ever be able to read them.

"You really did not like the Island." The boy stated, receiving a light nod as an answer. "Was it so bad?"

"There were no toilets."

Felix could not help but chuckle, a warm genuine smile spread over his face and he nodded his head in agreement when he faced her again. 

"Toilets sure are great." He laughed. "Or warm running water."

Felix pushed himself away from the counter and slendered over to the girl, taking a seat on the chair in front of her. "It took me three days to find out how that works, by the way." He added after a small pause. Y/N could only shake her head in response and give him a brief smile. "Must have been cold."

The tall boy agreed in silence and crossed his arms in front of his chest, waiting for the food to arrive. He would disappear for a while to go to the bathroom, giving her some space to clear her mind. All she could think about was how beautiful the former second in command looked when he smiled, making her nervous the longer he stayed with her. For a moment, it seemed like he was another person when she was all alone with him. 

"Where are the others?" Felix asked when he returned from the bathroom, pulling the chair around to straddle it. 

"Someone took Henry." Y/N admitted low, not even wanting him to know that, well aware that he would only mock this situation, probably having expected such a thing sooner or later. 

"Hm.’' Felix let out an amused chuckle and gave her a winning smirk, one that said,"Told you so!"

"We're on our own for a while." The girl said, checking her phone for a message from the delivery guy. Not long. Almost here. How the time had passed by.

"I am  fucking happy they are gone." Felix snorted and rolled his eyes."They were such a pain in the ass."

At least they gave him a home and clothes, food and no worries about his current life. That was something and even though Y/N knew how beautiful the Island could be, the former lost boy had not been safe there. None of them were. How could he still be so blinded after all? Y/N wanted to respond but decided to keep her mouth shut. Right at that moment the doorbell rang. Shifting from her seat, Y/N strutted over to the door and opened it, waiting a few moments for the delivery guy to get up the stairs and hand her the Pizza. She pulled a twenty dollar bill out of her pocket and handed it over to the man before closing the door. The boxes felt hot on her cool hands and the smell of fat, cheese and pepperoni filled the room, making the girl realise how hungry she actually was. Felix's stomach started to rumble when she started to cut her Pizza, so she assumed he did not have any breakfast either. For a moment the girl really enjoyed the boy's company and hoped he would stay longer, but she was also sure that he would take his food and vanish as quickly as he used to do. Yet, Felix never ceased to amaze her. He waited in silence until she was done cutting, then he took the knife and in that moment her fingers touched his, she felt  a quick, electric sensation followed by butterflies rumbling in her stomach. Taking the Pizza, she quickly strutted into the direction of your room to hide her sudden joy, just to be stopped by Felix calling her name.

"Where are you going?"

"Into my room?" Y/N gave confused back ,wondering why he would want her to accompany him all of the sudden.

"Oh- I thought…" Felix sounded disappointed.

"Oh…" Her eyes widened and maybe she sounded a bit too harsh. "I thought you wouldn't want-"

"Nevermind." Felix barked harshly and swiftly vanished behind his own door, not even giving the girl a chance to say another word. Damn, this boy was so sensitive, his mood was constantly switching and Y/N wished to find out why he was always  so pessimistic about everything. Not now, she thought, not now. First she would eat, then she would take care of that matter. 

The boy let out an annoyed sight when he opened his door after Y/N knocked not long after she finished eating. Felix was eating the last slice of his pizza and held the empty box in his other hand.

"Why are you always coming to me?" He snarled.

"I just care about you! For god’s sake! You act so fucking mean since we came here and I wonder why." She raised her voice and knitted her eyebrows together in a serious manner

"Please don't do this." Felix moaned theoretically. "Please don't act as if you cared!"

Felix swiftly turned around and threw the empty box of Pizza aside. His fast movements caused her to flinch a little, but still she managed to remain calm.

"You don't care!" He snarled. "Nobody cares. Just leave me alone."

The tall boy did not need to turn around and give her a final glare, he made it clear that she was not wanted and no matter how much he needed her help, she respected his wishes. Y/N had really no thought to waste about him when she went straight into the bathroom to take a bath that might cool her nerves. That fucking audacity and this childish behaviour, as if Felix really meant what he was saying. They both knew he was not serious and that he was simply lying to himself about his emotions. There was no place for love in his heart after being manipulated by Pan for so long, nor  for friendship. Y/N did not care what the former second in command told himself about their friendship, it all has been a lie and a game for Pan, something to entertain him. It was worthless. His loss meant nothing, still Y/N cared how Felix felt about the betrayal of every former boy.

While she stripped off her clothes, the girl waited for the bathtub to be filled with hot water and bubbles, a metaphorical way to clean her thoughts when diving in. She should rather think about helping someone out and earn some money, so she could afford buying her own things. She splashed the water with her fingers and slowly sank deeper into the bathtub to enjoy the silence. The hot steam filled the room and when her thoughts drove off to something pleasantly, she almost forgot the time. Back in Neverland there was nothing to worry about time, the days were almost all the same and no one was there to rush someone. Things have barely changed in Storybrooke, since there was nothing to do for Y/N and the lanky lost boy, so they needed to find something to kill the time. 

It had been an eternity since the girl had taken a proper bath and maybe it was time to get out, but the hot water remained too tempting for her to step out. With a deep breath she closed her eyes and leaned back, as suddenly a door slammed shut, immediately telling her that Felix was leaving his room again. His slow footsteps definitely made their way towards the bathroom and Y/N realised that she did not lock the door. She did not really forget to lock the door, right? The girl could not recall it and to get out of the water, to check was too late, as she watched agonised how the door handle went down and the door swung wide open, causing her heart to skip a beat. The tall lost boy did not seem to notice her at first, but as soon as he entered the steamy room, Felix froze in place. His eyes widened and his face turned blank. For a long moment, they both stared at each other and Y/N felt relieved that she was at least covered by a thick foam of bubbles. 

"Fuck, sorry...I-" Felix stuttered through half open lips, as if the little sight of a girl's skin was enough to steal his voice. It gave Y/N her confidence back.

"I didn't mean to-" the boy still couldn't open his mouth while his gaze burned holes through her. It took him a moment, but suddenly Felix shook his head to ban whatever he was thinking about and shifted his eyes away, then turned on his heels to swiftly leave the bathroom. 

At least he could have closed the door, Y/N thought as she sunk deeper into the water in embarrassment. Fuck, how in the hell could she forget to close the door? At least he did not see anything, or did he? The whole situation left her frozen in place, unable to think clearly. Y/N did not even dare to step out of the water to close the door, so she just sat there, trying her best to calm down. After a while, the skin of her fingertips were already wrinkled up, leaving a rough touch on her softened skin and she finally thought about getting out of the bathtub. A long time  had passed, since Felix stepped into the bath and now the water was starting to get cold. The girl's eyes searched the room for a towel until she realised that she had washed them and now they hung in the living room. Fuck this shit.

"Felix!" She called him as loud as she could, but there was no answer. The boy did not respond until she called him again.

"What do you want?" His voice echoed through the hallway. She sounded unsure and intrigued. 

"I have a problem."

"Well now you have two." Felix yelled back.

Y/N frowned in confusion and lifted her head.

"How's that?"

"I ain't interested in your first problem."

She let out an annoyed sight and rolled with her eyes and brought her fingers to her forehead, running over her skin in a steady, relaxing movement. Why was he like that? Was it really necessary to always find a way for drama? 

"I don’t have a towel." She whined, hoping for him to bring her one. The grumpy boy did not respond again, an unbearable silence filling the apartment. Felix was there, the girl knew that he was. He had not shut his door yet, so he must be in the living room or kitchen where he would perfectly understand you.

"Felix…" She called him, already giving up that he would come and breaking her mind by finding a way to get past him. "Please."

A few seconds later she heard his footsteps come back again, the wood creaking under his weight and announcing the boy’s arrival. He did not even enter the room, instead Felix threw the towel through the open crack.

"I need to take a piss, so please hurry up!" He said rather cowardly before the footsteps led him away, then shutting the door shut. Y/N did not hesitate and got out of the water as quickly as she could, barely drying her skin before she sprinted into her own room before the former lost boy would cross her way again. 

Why did such things always happen to her? Could it not have been someone else to walk in like Emma or Mary? Of course not, destiny always found a way to punish the girl,- first Pan, now Felix. Nevertheless, the cold boy stayed inside her mind all the time. She dressed herself and got ready to snuck under the blankets. For a while she allowed herself to dream of him cuddling against her back, how his big body would feel like pressed against hers, or maybe even… on top  of her?

NO.

Fuck no, she was not having dirty daydreams of mister cold facade. There was nothing special about Felix, right? Eventually that long scar that ran over his jagged jawline and those blue, stabbing eyes fascinated her. Those  piercing eyes, that were sharp as daggers and intimidating as the gaze of a shark. There was definitely something mysterious about the former second in command, still, Y/N had told herself that she was done with adventures and risky decisions- Felix was definitely one of those,- that she could tell. He was hot, but also the biggest asshole she ever met. The former lost boy kept wandering through the apartment and distracting the girl's dreaming thoughts with each passing second. He would not leave her mind until she fell asleep.

(Next Chapter ->)

[muffindaddystyles]

DENTIST THE BAD BOI (PART2)

Word Count: 17k.

A/N: Heavily inspired from 90's rom-coms, so if your heart swoons out of loneliness it's not on me sistas -- doctor Harry my fav.

Summary: Y/N's much tolerable when less grumpy then more kissable, more loveable and cuddleable and Harry wants to be more than just fuck buddies that he ends up giving Y/N a tooth ache.

Pairing: Dentist Harry × Artist reader, Frenemies to bestfriends to lovers, platonic affection and loads of bestie fluff, smut and domestic love.

MASTERLIST | REQUEST FOR BLURBS FROM THIS FIC ARE OPEN | PART 1

“Yes. I want you to stay.” She doesn’t hesitate this time. Her words honest and full of plead, she needs him, she wants him, she wants to have him.

Harry’s lips quirks up into a loopish smile at that and he hoists his knee up and above, sinking his palms into her soft mattress besides her temple and blocks the mellow sunshine that peeks through her lace curtains. Her heart squeezes out of her rib-bones and turns gooey somewhere within her insides as her lungs fill with his minty and warm ardour and if she'd be not this flushed and throbbing between her sticky thighs she'd have cracked a dentist joke.

“Y’want me to lick y'cookie f'ye?” He gives her a bunny grin and his fingertips tickles her shoulder; milky skin twinkling at him from the neckline of her shirt that’s barely sitting there and she pouts raising her hands to smack his chest, but he grabs them and tugs her forward, tutting sternly, “I want an answer.” His foresty pupils darkens around rims and her throat turns scratchy. So, she bobs her head up and down eagerly, feeling the metal around his fingers smouldering into her wrist and the thought of it on her clit makes her mewl.

It dings his adam apple sexily and his eyes turn soft and cheeks rosy, Harry doesn’t know what she likes or not so he’s gonna start tentative and careful and gradually ease her into taking big things after, letting her drip onto sheets for hours if she’d like him edging and teasing her.

She watches him with doe-innocent eyes and Harry almost ruts his hips against the mattress from the way his cock twitches weepily -- sensitive against the fabric of his joggers.

He keeps their intense eye contact while sliding back down between her legs and cares his calloused warm palms under the back of her cushiony fleshy thighs and bends her knees up, his eyes flicker towards her tummy that exposes to him when she stretches out gracefully in reaction to his tingling touch.

Making sure she’s alright, his nimble taps her ankle and when she breathes out a whiny “yes.”,

He gropes the insides of her thighs and spreads them apart and presses them down letting her make puny noises when the cool air teases her folds, she smells so good for him, “Already such a puddle, Muffy. G'na gimme a sugar rush from ye'sweetness.” He darts his pink tongue out to moisturize his petal lip and his grunt pleased and heavy upon seeing her gush more arousal just from listening him talk.

He spreads her swollen pussylips apart with his middle and pointer finger and her chin tips towards the ceiling, mouth apart around a gasp when he glints a smirk towards her all while poking his tongue out and flattening it against her clenching entrance and licks her juices up.

“Does it feel good?” He hums nonchalantly nosing at her little button and paints his lips with her wetness. She stays a bit stiff. Not making any move and staying put in her position. Harry takes her clit between his teeth when she whimpers out and her body turns taut, her hands balling at her sides.

“Y've t’use y’words with me, moppet. It works two ways, always.” His hands reaches blindly for her wrists and he puts them over his poof of hair but it remains fisted and he rubs his big hands up and down where her thighs meets her sweet cunt, “Try t’ relax. Can y'do that fo'me, pet?”

His brows pinches together into a frown. His glistening lips from her turning into a grumpy pout when she doesn’t respond — was he unable to make her feel hot and excited? she should tell him if she didn’t like it.

“Y/N ...” He raises his head slowly from between her thighs and his jaw goes slack, his eyes bursting wide seeing her holding her breath and hiding her face underneath her forearm, “Shit. Shit. Y/N!” He’s quickly crawling towards her and sliding his hand under her back, brings her to his chest with his fingers wrapped around the nook of her elbow.

“Breathe, Sweetheart. ‘s okay.” Is this what she was talking about? Is this why she has specific days for touching herself? Poor bambi. He massages her back with tender circles and sighs in relief when he feels her chest calming down back to normal.

“Y/N ...” He pushes her away from shoulders to look down at her sternly and takes her hair into his grasp and slinks them to side, “What’s happenin’ with ye'muffy?” He gives her a downturn of lips and quirk of brow indicating her that there isn’t any escape for this time.

For fuck’s sake! He’s her bestfriend. He should know atleast that she’s alright!

He gauges for her eyes when she presses her palms into his knees and lifts her bum a tad from the sheets, shy embarrassment turning the tips of her ears pink, manipulating her toffee lip in her mouth and Harry pushes back the hair that are falling in her eyes.

She’s feeling hell load giddy and humiliated to tell him this.

Harry startles back, blinking rapidly when she squeaks out in one breath, “’M scared to hurt you!” He pulls her forward with his hand wrapped around the nape of her neck and frowns.

His touch with her tender and un-conceit, when usually he’s a domineering in bed and riles them enough for them to beg and moan pathetically for him.

“What? Scared ---.. hurt?” He tries to piece what she said together but it doesn’t make any sense. So, he guesses that he'd have to pry some more from her, “What're ye' talkin' bout muffy?” He sighs noticing the way she clenches the hem of her shirt and mumbles something but Harry’s giving her a piercing glare and it makes her ramble anxiously.

His hand affixed at her skimmed from under her shirt and his thumb keeps on circling her hip-bone.

“’M afraid that I’ll get all horny ‘n loose all my senses and be all rough with you, ending up hurtin'y and I’ll be too engulfed in pleasure that you wouldn’t be able to stop me ....” She fiddles her fingers vigorously in Harry’s hand and he's cutting her with a tut, “That’s the point silly girl.” He chuckles amused at her and she shakes her head whining up at him with a surly expression. The corners of her eyes pinkish and watery from forcing herself to feel the pleasure Harry’s tongue was devoting her.

“But, Harry ‘m not some insatiable monster!!” His heart thuds at the concerned worrisome look on her angelic features and he’s cupping her cheeks, he curses out internally to whoever told her this and his lip grouches up, “You’re not some insatiable monster. Who the fuck fed you this bullshit?” He scolds her and it makes her fleet her gaze away from him.

“You’re not —-... what the fuck, Y/N. Tell me their name so I could break their jaw.” He gasps in shock and he spits in venom. Knuckling at her chin to prop it high infront of him and doesn’t break the cogent eye contact -– his eyes full of hatred and loath for the person.

That damn person who made his Bambi, so insecure and conscious and self-degrading about herself.

“The guy –,” She stutters. He gives her an encouraging hum and she plays with his rings, she knows that he’ll never make fun of her about it and mighty be understanding.

He has always been.

But sometimes he laughs at the worst moments. Not his fault. She has adopted that habit too from living with him.

Right now though. He looks very serious and furious, it creeps heat up her throat.

“The guy I lost my virginity to. He said – he ... umm said that I hurt him when I flipped him underneath me and was being selfish asking him to you know ...?” She mumbles, uncertain if she’s putting it out right and Harry runs his fingers through his curls gripping at the roots and groans in annoyance, properly vexed.

“Firstly muffy. Virginity isn’t a thing. It’s a term made by egoistic men like that prick of a guy, secondly did he make you cum?” His voice tones down gentle and caring. He lays her down and settles her head on the pillow and she's still fisting his shirt in her hands.

He grimaces when she shakes her head, her eyes owlish and glossy pointing down, “Everything was so dry that I wasn’t able to enjoy it ...” She winces remembering it and Harry cradles her face cooing delicately, “Oh Bambi. It was, ‘cos ye' weren’t aroused enough.” But, she’s now. With Harry ontop of her and being all warm and lovey and handling her as if she’s fine china, she could feel gooey wetness sticked to her thighs.

For first time in her life. She feels relaxed and light headed talking about it.

So, she continues, “ .. and it was bit disgusting, he came all over my tummy ‘cos he didn’t have a condom.” At this he grumps, his nostrils flares and pinches the bridge of his nose to keep him sane, “What a cheap bastard!” She giggles at his outrage and he just gives a fluttery smile to her shaking his curls.

He pets the sheen on her cheek away and gazes her sincerely, “You shouldn’t trust everyone and anyone, pet. ‘S a cruel world out there.” The fact that if he’d have came inside her boils Harry’s blood -- she'd have gotten the worst thing happen to her.

He just feels so protective of her. If he’d be able to keep her safe under his shield to scare away bastards like that guy he gladly will.

“Now, hear me Bambi eyed. We never have unprotected sex with strangers and never let ‘em make y’feel bad fo' wantin’ t’be pleasured .. if two people consent fo' it then both ‘ve to fulfil eachother’s desire. Am I clear?” His tone gruff and firm. She suckles her lower lip inside her mouth and nods quickly.

Something about him commanding and lecturing her making a fire fuse in the pit of her tummy and it makes her salivate down a whimper, which sure didn’t go unnoticed by Harry’s side and his lips are quirking into vivacious grin.

He’s retreating back between her legs keeping a cautious gaze on her as if she’s a prey and one move will wither her away, “’N fo’ being rough. I like it rough. Y'could d'all of that with me without being embarrassed.” His smirk dripping with wickedness and Y/N’s head jerks back at the thought of him seeing forward to do more of this with her.

His palm lays sturdy and pressed to her belly, his puckering lips against the inside of her thigh parts around a silent groan when he feels her belly quiver.

He embeds slobbery kisses to where she’s clenched impatiently for him and he pushes his fingers against her clit and slides them up and down between her puffy folds, love creating soppy filthy noises and gives a kitten lap to her then attaches his lip to her smudgy hole murmuring against her breathily to make her feel the electricity till her core.

“Will love havin' ye'tiny fingers pullin' at me hair with a swimy brain. Buckin'y hips into my mouth begging me to ruin yer cunt with my tongue and ‘ave me dancin' on y'palm, extractin’ out glutinous grunty moans within me chest -- it’ll not be just moans, no! —- a viscous toe curlin' sound that’d rumble savagely in my throat a warning fo’ you to keep these gorgeous thighs open fo' me to eat you out as I wish and my large hands will belt ‘round y'waist digging my nails into your dimples when you'll scratch my back ‘n it’ll leave angry marks behind — a reminder fo’ you how much I fuckin' loved you being horny as the deepest burnin' of hells.” She’s panting and sobbing for a cusp of breath manoeuvring her fingers in the tufts of his silky mess of curls and tugs at it and shoves her cunt, grinding against his chin. The softness of his cheeks glittering her bones and she’s falling wider apart from him, and he grins.

Noses at her throbbing clit and sucks it in her mouth and massages her pussy with her own lubrication and how much he picks it on his tongue she’s ready to give him more and he’s moaning with fierce ruby lips wrapping around her fluttering pussy folds, moving his mouth every where and it elicits a choppy whine from her.

“Fuck. Look at'y ... s'innocent but such a dirty little girl fo' me.” He dips his fingers merely into her and swipes up a cardinal push against her spongey wall and treats it back.

It’s too much for, Y/N. Everything. His wanton words better than those audios, his warm tongue on her and the strength of his arms holding her down, his flushed out cheeks and the teasing and teetering he's doing to give her an orgasm that sprays cosmic stars into her fogginess and she doesn’t even know that cloy moans of, “yes.yes.yes.” are dripping from her and he’s boring his face back into her when he latches away from her sweet pussy with the help of his elbow.

“I want you to say it.” There’s pause in the string of her racing heart and her brows hitches in confusion, though he doesn’t give her enough time and moves her pussylips apart letting his nails graze at them gently.

She’s squealing in surprise and jolting up with exhilarating sensation when he spits at her and watches it trickle down her bum, thick and honeyed with lust-fond eyes.

She’s erupting into startled moans when he grunts spitting again and makes her little cunt the messiest thing, “Say it. Say that yer dirty little —-,” She cuts him with a sharp and whiny yawp and plunges her nails into his shoulder making him hiss through his teeth.

“I’m a dirty little girl, f'you. Just you. Just you. Just you ....” Her voice tones down into coy whispers stuffed to the pillow as her body anchors stintingly from her bed and Harry’s hand slides from her torso down her ass and gropes at it keeping her coupled to his mouth as she coats his chin and his lips and his cheeks with her cum and his own spit and he’s murmuring grittily, “Yeah moppet. Mhmp. Come in me mouth. Fill it all, such a good girl.” He nips and tucks at her making her satiate through her high and places a kiss to her clit for the last time when she thrashes from sensitiveness before moving away.

“Sensitive lil thing ye'r.” He murmurs rubbing her thighs to coax her down and feels goosebumps prick on her skin, glances up and finds her a beautiful colour of pink and peach and her hair nested as a halo on the pillow.

She’s just so beautiful in many ways, it aches his heart.

He’s flopping to her side and poking her cheek earning a tick of ravenous smile and he watches as her irises moves under her closed lids.

“That was ... hmm.” She hums sluggishly knuckling at her eyes and Harry muses out a chuckle, before she could come up with a dentist joke he's cracking it himself sensing her gears working in that tiny head of hers, “Very filling?” That makes her hide her face into his neck and giggle.

“Yeah. Could say that.” She rests her chin on his shoulder and poses her brows questioningly when his stuffy pocket pokes at her thigh, “What’s that?” He didn’t realise he was too swamped in admiring the specks of her hazelness pouring with sunlight and he’s blinking back to re-start himself.

“Oh! This ..?” He’s taking out it slowly and she’s whining and shaking him to hurry up and he’s giggling at how impatient she could get when curious.

She holds it infront of her and it’s a cute green beanie with a little gucci embroidered at where it gets folded and her smile dejects when Harry speaks, “One of my colleagues gifted me this as a birthday present.” Why didn’t she thought about gifting him this for his birthday? Not that she has money for Gucci but they've been celebrating for three years and not once she didn’t get an idea that he wears beanies alot and mighty would like it?

Anyway, it’s far better than the painting of snowy and a mason jar filled with candy wrappers having her appreciations and dentist jokes written to their backside she gifted him, Y/N pouts thinking how she could’ve get him something useful.

Harry doesn’t care about materialistic things. He says that you could buy them anytime and that money is just the murk of your palm, it goes away in one wash -- the little shows of affection always are by your side in hard times.

“Hey Muffy...” He's yawning nudging her side noticing how she zones out and away from him, “D'ya have some chamomile tea?” Her chin slips from her shoulder at the sudden rasp.

“What? Why?” She gazes him. His body slumpy and tired over her and his mouth ajar cutely, she scratches his scalp lightly and swears that he let out the softest purr.

“Was in the operation theatre fo' hours now, just came from there -- emergency case. It was bad.” He emphasizes it getting a lisp a bit and she sits up closer to him.

“What happened to the person? She asks hoping they’re okay and have any hopes for recovery.

He just fiddles away the beanie from her grip and covers her head with it folding and adjusting it over her ears, “Not tellin' ya ...” He murmurs rubbing his nose into her arm and sniffs her saccharine scent. He knows that she doesn’t take the stories from his workplace well and it keeps her awake at nights, then she’s visiting the patient herself and Harry have to drag her out of his hospital every damn time.

She cares too much. Even for strangers. She’s too kind for her own sake and Harry thinks sometimes being selfish should be the latter option.

He squints open his one eye feeling her gaze fixated on him and huffs a lil, his little stubborn bambi, she wouldn’t let it go, “Fine. They were comin' back from a party and were high maybe -- car crashed badly dentin' towards the passenger’s side ‘n totally dislocated her jaw, now y’promise me you aren’t gettin' too worrisome ‘bout her because she’s okay.” Saying this he's cuddling back into her and she smiles a bit petting his back.

“Whatever, you say Dr. Styles.” He didn’t even need a tranquilizing tea anymore. Her warmth and squishiness was more than enough to lull him into a peaceful slumber.

..

It’s an otiose Saturday morning. Harry and Y/N just gobbled down oatmeal she made (topped with kiwis, mangoes and strawberries Harry brought from market and threw the bag in her lap) it had too much of coconut and sugar layer than necessary, according to Harry.

While she cleaned the countertops Harry fed and kissed the crowns of each one of their cat, yet again they were left with nothing to do —- that's how Y/N ended up straddling his waist, his jaw fit in her palm and his eyes half-open funnily as she applies a liner at his lid with her pink tongue poked out in concentration.

“Stop movin’,” She snits out in a huff and the skirts of his lips alleviates up into a cheeky evil grin, his hands pawing at her hips and his intentionally dirty gaze flitters down where her nipples are perking from the flimsy shirt and almost presses to his throat, “How'm supposed to when y’tits are ready to lactate me mouth?” Blush creeps up at her cheeks at his overweening and she wanted to give out an “Oh.” Instead grips his baby curls and steadies him, squishing his cheek in doing so as if he’s her toy.

“You better shut up, or ‘m gonna shove my feet up that smug mouth of yours.” She grumps to her own self when her fingers begins to twitch feeling her ear fill with hotness, “And what makes y’think ‘m not into that?” He rockets his brows priggishly with a grin that just screams he’s about to have a upper hand in this banter of their.

“Harry you disgraceful, man!” She whines trying to pull his face upright – he’s doing it on purpose trying to push her buttons and his eyes widens in feign hurt, “’M a very holy man!” His one eye adorned with charcoal coloured liner making him look adorable.

He’s far from any of that. They both know it. He’s a nerd slut if Y/N could put into words correctly.

“Yeah. Holy piece of a shit.” She grumbles pressing her bent knee into his side and quips a happy “Tada!!” grabbing the little from beside him and almost shoves it in his face demanding him to look at himself.

Harry brings his lips together and whistles looking at himself, “My murals should be painted everywhere in the city,” Y/N rolls her eyes. Nibbling down a scoff at his narcissism desperate to jump out and points at herself with a shrug of shoulders -- silently trying to telepath with him.

“What?” He murmurs nonchalantly angling his face to have a better look at him.

“Where’s the praise for artist?”

“Why need't when y'know ‘m an art myself.” His rims shine shamelessly and he nips the flesh of his cheek to stifle down a bashful cackle at her retort.

“You’re being too bold for a person who combusts in his pants just by getting his back scratched.” She arches her brow pruriently at him and he shakes his head, brushing the belly of his nose with his knuckle and when he gazes back at her -- she knows that she’s fucked fucked.

“Says who. The dirty little girl who's sitting on her bestfriend’s cock in her panties and shirt that’s doin’ nothin' but makin'y nipples button out shamelessly.” He tuts carnally, sinking into the plush cushions and man-spreads himself so wide Y/N could feel him pressing between her folds. His smirk rottenly sinful and evil and Y/N's palm automatically jams against his torso with a weepy mewl forehead falling against his clavicles.

She wanted to argue that he’s clad in boxers too but all of her sanity went out of the window when he teasingly grinded their crotches together.

“Y'want t'be treated like a bunny, who loves to hop on dick and fucked till you’re just a soft mush -- don't ya?” His hoarse drawl makes her bob her head eagerly making him chuckle and she’s tightening her thick thighs around his waist, hiding her face into the dive of his nice warm smelling neck and keeps her lips sponged to his skin making him grip on her hips with brutal force.

She’s just so sweet to Harry. A hot pink puddle at his mere touch and all clingy to him, shrinking into him with shyness and all of this just stirs his cock angrily sensitive.

He’s always getting a stiffy thinking about her and her honeyed taste he got to lap on and he's always smelling one of his pillows that has her fragrance loaded on it, while cupping his balls and stroking his cock lazily and hard, with other.

Though his assertive words wavers into a whimperish groan when Y/N takes her face out and gazes him with doe-warm eyes, “I w'na make you feel good.” Harry throbs under her and fattens against his own belly and feels her soaking against his boxers.

“Y'do? ‘s okay —.” His chest heaves with ragged breathes from anticipation and yearn and he knows that taking care of himself would be a torture if she’d tell him a, “no.” But then he isn’t that of a prick and is awfully happy to get what he’s getting, their infinite proximity.

His head teeters back and his pelvis buckles up when she clutched the hem of his sweatshirt and uttered a poutsih, “please..” She’s nourishing a breath and gazing up at him with glossy chocolate eyes blabbering while swivelling herself slowly ontop of him, “You’re looking s' pretty and cato eyes -—.. and you’re stuffed against me s'good. I want –- I want to make y'feel amazing.” Harry’s choking a growlish moan and the urge to just throw her on couch and snug his large cock deep within her.

Her brows pinches together and she has him grabbed from shoulders while she looks between them, listening to his purry hisses and lewd moans, it makes her redden her lip –- she could see his bulbous sherbet coloured tip coated in his own arousal wrestling out of his boxers as the fabric bunches and loosens down with each stroke of her cunt against him.

“Y'want to make me feel, amazin'? Fuck. You’re devastatin' me love -- yeah, mhmph hump me prick moppet.” Her eyelids lust filled and she moans against his chin as he breathes out a euphoric smile and Y/N gains a new confidence pushing herself down on his cock harder and firmer and faster.

The fabric of his boxers tickling his wet slit and he’s smushing his cheek into her soft chest, hugging and murmuring nonsense against her when Y/N sneaks her hand down and fills her hands with his heavy cum loaded balls and Harry doesn’t know how she was able to press him under the pad of her pinky in a span of minute.

Because he’s begging all for her mercy.

He howls a whine when she sucks his earlobe wetly and grazes it to speak in the sweetest yet licentious seductiveness and Harry’s almost naked under her, “Jeez. Hmm. Yes, just like that –- Bambi. My Bambi. Makes me feel — oh fuck!” His knuckles white from where he's groping the cheek of her ass and guiding her where her mound nudges him more good and drafts him straight to heaven.

“Tell me, huh. Who’s the dirty one now?” She smirks squeezing his balls yanking the sweaty ringlets on the base of his neck and they’ve their bodies on eachother, their hands on eachother and Y/N had an audacity to compete.

He’s trashing his spine into a curve and pulling her back down on his dick. She squeals when his cock grazes her pantie line and slips up and down against her cushiony thigh slobbering it with his pre-come.

“Me, me! Fuck .. pet, ‘s me ...” His hand tightens around her ribs and his hand tightens around her ribs and he’s dragging her back and forth -- socked toes curling and teeth gnawing at the pudding of her cheek. His thighs quaking and his strong forearms brings her closer to his chest, as the pressure coils in his stomach and the gentle caress and guttural bite on the slop of his collarbone was enough to burst spurts of cum in his boxers and it quenches onto his tummy and to the inside of her thighs making a sloppy mess.

“Shit.” He mutters through a chuckle. His chin butted atop her head and she giggles moving away.

Her shirt ridden up, her panties bunched up into her ass-cheeks and Harry admires her with a celestial flush on his skin and she circles her fingers together.

She just rode his prick dry and looks like she did the most innocent thing in the world.

“’M g'na go clean myself.” Harry smiles at her squealing pitch and then realization dawns upon him, she’s talking about his jizz on her tickling her skin getting flustered and knackered feeling it. Though, it’s not only his jizz but her panties are drenched into her own salvation making it see through and her wet pussy on display.

He just gulps and nod, like an atta puppy.

..

Lavish green leaves rustles together, the soil of green-belt moist and watered recently, early morning sky swirls of blues and it’s beautiful it really is the weather isn’t too sunny – the silence in his car is comforting too and the rum of his breath makes her feel nostalgic.

But, she wanted to sleep her arse off on Sunday and do nothing and be proud of being idle whole day. Harry had different plans though –- he was jumping on her bed making her wobble on it in her sleepy state and dragged her to washroom how much she whined and fought with him.

“Oh. C’mon now, muffin .. it’ll be fun, Ni would be there too.” He tries to reason her and she just brings her knees up into her and closes her eyes, muttering in monotone.

“Nothing’s fun about golfing, Harry.” It’s little get together of his colleagues and the doctors from his hospital and Harry thought he'd die from boredom if he wouldn’t bring her with him, he isn’t one bit of interested into old men talking about how their third wife drools over them – he isn’t very fond of lies.

“Not even me? How could y’say no to me?” He gasps dramatically. Scrunched his nose and twitches his lips in fake offend.

She opens her eyes for a moment and stares at him, “Just like that,” Pinches his elbow and shrugs nonchalantly.

“Harry, no.”

“Yeah, Whatever.” He rolls his lips between his fingers and takes a turn and when they reach he's putting sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, unfolding her arms that are wrapped around herself and nudges her to be less grumpy.

“’Ve a reputation yeah .. be less frumpy.” She pokes her tongue out and Harry lurches his hand forward scaring her that he'd grab it.

“Those dilfs already kisses the tips of my shoes.” She hops out of the car and clasps her hands atop of her head stretches out and yawns out loudly.

Harry’s head perks up alarmingly at that from the boot of his car and he swings the golfing kit on his shoulder and rolls his eyes from under his sunnies, pushing her forward with a small hand on her back.

“Yeah, more like grandpas.” The thought just makes him feel icky and utterly gross – imagining those old doctors —- no he completely wants to brain wash himself.

“Bet, their willies would need heavy assistance —-,” He’s grinning abrasively down at her and she winced swatting his chest, “Harry!” She’s wiggling out of his hold and striding towards where Niall is waving them in utter excitement.

Harry pouts and stomps behind her, calling out for her to slow down and scowls when a grin makes a way at her face as Niall hugs her.

Niall showed her his little nips and tricks. While Harry looked at them with needy eyes from far stuck between the bunch of boring doctors and dentists and his lips visibly downturns when Niall trips and Y/N’s falling on her bum, clutching onto her side with a belly aching laugh.

Ni helps her stand back and it was when a women in pink sports short and Nike tee trudged towards them and Harry at the same moment and Y/N just stares with confusion as they hug and she’s smiling up at him brightly.

“Sorry. I lost the time check.” Harry’s parting away with a shrug, “Not tha' somethin’ special occurred.” and Y/N’s doe-curious eyes remains fixed on them and he's introducing the unknown women to her and Niall’s poking her side to revive her back to mighty world.

“Muffy? She’s one of my colleagues, Holly.” Y/N startled a bit then gives out a nervous smile forwarding her hand to shake it with her and Holly’s pony flails comically from the action.

Soon, she’s turning her attention back towards Harry and smiling up at him questioningly, “Did you rest well after leaving the hospital on Friday?” Y/N just fumbles with Harry’s rings on her knuckles -- not sure if she should go back to golfing with Niall or stay to take part in little conversation because Niall is growing very antsy.

“Yeah. I did, actually .... very well if y'ask so,” Harry's shimmering gaze lurks back on Y/N and she internally groans when he smirks remembering the event and she wants to glare him from the side of her eye.

She’s stepping aside quickly when Holly passes by them and towards the table full of breakfast and beverages.

She pours two cups of coffee and adds two teaspoon of sugar, handing one to Harry and Y/N wants to retort that he doesn’t like coffee and hell not that amount of sugar.

“And Y/N what would y'like coffee, tea?” Holly asks her and Y/N just chuckles gingerly when Harry looks ike he's about to gag when he takes the first sip.

“I don’t drink coffee.” Holly looks like she just saw the end of the world and Y/N holds back from rolling her eyes at her, she's giving her an aura that she doesn’t like Y/N even a bit.

“No? Why?”

“Guess I never needed that much caffeine, my job doesn’t require staying up late and all that ...” Holly sips on her coffee and leans against a chair raising a her brow at her and then asks.

Her style being uptight and arrogant just not sitting right with, Y/N.

“What is your profession?” This ferals Y/N into her thinking pot, is that even a profession? She doesn’t really know and she’s in her own headspace when Harry’s soft eyes worms back to his bambi and his eyes glints with ever proud and his smile toothy and bunny as he puts the cup aside speaking with a hint of fond.

“She’s an artist. A very talented one.” Holly arches her brow at him and hums then looks back at her -- as if she didn’t heard him right.

“So, you make art for living?”

“I do it beacuse I like doing it, just like you.” Y/N chips up and Harry just thinks his admiration grows terribly more every day for her -- because of the passion about anything she holds in that big heart of hers, the way her cheeks rubies up and brows sets into concentration.

That shuts Holly and her train of personal irritating questions.

“Hey! We aren’t here fo' some princess tea party -- can we please, go back to golfing!?” Niall finally bursts like a balloon from annoyance and Y/N's giggling and hooking her arm into his elbow, “You’re sucha cry baby.” She coos and tries to walk him back to pitch but then her gait stutters when Holly asks Harry in an expectant tone.

“Did you like my present?” Why does it layers her chest with mucky awful feeling, her stomach itself tottering and she just huffs thinking how that present sits in her drawer and she’s the one that wears it instead of Harry.

“Oh, I liked it, thank you.” Fucking liar. Y/N just shakes her head and chuckles ironically because he forgot about it the moment he gave it to her.

Y/N’s toes itches with an impulse to expose Harry infront of her.

Where’s that feisty Harry ready to bite anyone expect her and his little group of friends? What did this job do to him? Oh my goodness! Why Y/N is hating all of this so much, why why why!?

Y/N's completely being an over dramatic (she knows that) but she couldn’t help but be bitter about this Holly “oh I could woo Harry just by giving him some beanies from an overly expensive brand.” Gahk! Not in a millennia.

“’Kay, pet now you make yer goal.” Niall shouts squinting to get rid of sunlight in his eyes and Y/N was so engulfed in thinking of how the slight interest and undivided attention of Harry towards Holly makes her feel woozy and something that’s indescribable, until now. That’s when someone came behind her bended figure she – almost making her squeal but he’s shushing her sweetly -- the corner of his lips pressing to the side of her hairline and he takes in her fresh lilies scent.

Two soft beautiful boned structure hands comes raking from her shoulders down her wrists, jostling her almost as he wraps his hands around her sweaty ones and brings the golf club back in air.

“Let's fill those holes together,” His smooth rasp prickles the hair on her body in a most stinging way and she's subsiding down a blush, frowning and unfrowning to concentrate back on playing -- but it’s a fucking torture when his bulging member prominent from his tight little shorts lines up against her bum teasingly.

He was very aware of the big problem that stood between them and she’s turning with his arms still on either side of her -- doing a little knocking on his chest to gain his attention.

“You’ve —-... umm ..” She stammers. Cheeks peachy and her smile nervous. Harry hums in dither gazing down at her softly and that flusters her to living heavens.

Then his eyes follows where she’s staring in curiosity and gentleness and as if she’s ready to take him in her mouth right then and there.

He’s got a stiffy and that in public!

“Oh shit. Sorry, I wasn’t awa —-,” He's creating a little distance between them but she’s quick to grab the hem of his shirt and pulling him closer back to her, “No. No. ‘s okay. I could ‐—.. I could help you ....,” She mutters in a tizz with a hitchy breath and Harry’s dimples indents, cushy smile dancing on his lips and his pinky’s swiping the loose tresses behind her ear.

“If you want to...” She doesn’t know what’s making her more anxious the fact he'll brush her off or that he'll accept her help, but this latter option fills her insides with gales of mushiness and it makes her unsettle her footing.

“I’d love that.” He grins and she’s smiling up at him and Harry screams internally like a teenager at how she manages to be so tender and silken like a gorgeous doll in the most filthiest situations.

He keeps her infront of him to hide the potential tent in his shorts that appeared from no-where, he's being sly and clearly knows that where it came from --- from gawking her peach ass till it wasn’t printed in his mind and he didn’t even know when he was drooling at the thought of squishing her asscheeks and rolling his thumb against her puckering hole and imagining her cute lil whines for him to bore down his thumb into her till she feels his lion ring against her flesh, throwing her hips at him more —- shut up!

Though when the group of men stops them with their evil gazes on his little bambi and they’re smirking up at Harry in mischievousness, “Where you sneakin' Y/N too?” They hollered and Harry had to ball his hand on her hips and bite back from rolling his eyes sharply and rudely,

Because who the fuck they’re to ask? He could take her anywhere and why they do act like they fucking know Y/N from summat eternity, that makes him want to snap at these snobs and warn them not to ever take a step near her.

Ofcourse, he’s very well aware that their intentions towards his sweet bestfriend are evil and filthy -- he wants to punch each one of them at that.

“Just to show ‘er the lake behind,” He's giving them a tight lipped smile and leaving them baffled without giving them more to talk and Y/N giggles at his huffy-ness and pets his knuckles feeling his skin beginning to fume and turn hot against her neck.

Moments later, he's sitting on the bench of empty steam room carmine lips parted and plush are mooched to Y/N's upper belly, his long arms tipsy around her thighs and hair floppy caramel and his palm splays on the side of her waist under her shirt coveting his nails lightly into her pudgy skin – as her soft hand stays dipped into his shorts and she strokes him in gradual pace.

He’s jerking back hitting his head against the vertical mirror that covers the whole wall when she presses her thumb into his palpating tip of cock to coax out his white stickiness and uses it to coat and lube his dick and caress it, “’S’okay c’mere, honey. You’re okay.” She coos cupping the nape of his neck and brings him back to let him bury his face into her pulpy body and kisses his hair, sliding her hand under his jaw to soothe him.

Harry moans uncontrollably and tries to muffle them with choked sobs upon hearing her go all soft on him and he thinks, “honey” Is his new favourite word from now on coming from her mouth and he wants to be called honey from her all the time.

She doesn’t know where the confidence of sweet talking to him came from but the menace for Holly and her being overly sugary with him, just poked her in weird place and she wants to claim where he belongs.

To her.

Always her.

“Bet, your big cock was all achy and weepy for my attention.” She pouts slopping all the way down to his chubby shaft and tightens her grip jerking him speedily. Harry bobs his head vigorously and eagerly hugging her ever close and babbles wetly so she scratches his scalp and almost raises her hips into him when his happy and satisfied mewls fuses into her ears.

“Been —-.. been, fuck!” He gasps bolting shut his eyes when she widened her slick palm down and massaged his heavy taut balls – shaking them playfully with a giggle bitten down her throat, “Been thinkin' ‘bout you whole lot – yer such a doll.” He sighs and she sponges a peck to the side of his forehead.

“Yeah?” Her eyes glints with adore and meekness for him and when he nods with euphoric slipped eyes and rosy cheeks snuggling himself into her she mighty cried a lil.

“G’na cum for me? In my hand? Been treating you so good, honey. Love your cock –- always oozy and slick for me and your moans —- can y'moan fo' me? Show them on whose pinky you’re wrapped on.” She’s breathless but the tenderness and fondness in her voice never fades and Harry’s almost tomato grinding his hips on the bench fucking himself into her palm and brags his teeth together hissing through it.

“G'na cum. G’na cum fo'y and —- oh!” Guttural heavy loud moans are eliciting down his tongue and he’s groaning and whimpering and thrashing under Y/N shooting his gloopy spunk inside her palm and she doesn’t stop, coating his whole eternity with his own cum and digs out some more droplets from his tummy to soak into the pride that she’s the reason he’s this fucked up and ravenous and shaking under her.

She’s throwing her legs on either side of his thighs next and he’s gazing at her intensely from under his thick lashes with lovingness all slumped against the mirror and she’s ducking down to stitch her nose up against his nose and giving him an eskimo kiss and Harry’s lips accommodating back for a nice breather are tingling to lean in and place them on hers in a dotting heart swarming kiss but a knock's interrupting them and she’s quipping back a squeal and jumping on her toes.

Guess she'd just clean her fingers by licking them since there’s no water.

..

Y/N was painting one of her commission works and for her coming exhibition when Truggers came meowing at her and scraping onto floor, “What d'you want bub?” She asks wiping her fingers on the rag and puts the brush into water cup.

She follows Truggers to their bassinet and almost slips straining her ankle from rushing panicked towards Tum who's jerking in his sleeping position.

She hawks in shock, fear and trembling horror. Her ears deafening. She’s shouting at him and shaking him with tears in her eyes, “Tums? Tummies? Baby!! Wake up!” She cries but the cat doesn’t respond.

“No. No. No!!” She shakes her head sobbing loudly bringing her knees up to her chest and holds her head in her hand not knowing what to do, she calls Rori and she doesn’t even know how much time passed and Rori's hugging her and comforting her taking other kittens to room so they don’t see Tums.

“Call Harry! Call him, please, please, please .... Rori ....” She sobs feeble and painful into Rori's neck and she shushes Y/N. She really tries to but she knows that only Harry could manage to calm her down and she rings him many many times but he doesn’t pick up.

“Harry! I’ve been calling you for ages for fuck’s sake where are you?” So, when he's excusing himself telling that he was having lunch and Holly’s voice is booming through Rori's phone Y/N’s heart drops and shatters into gazillion pieces.

She may not be in right mind, but she’s seriously hurt because Harry never in million years ignore her calls.

Guess having lunch was far important than her or her calls.

It just makes her cry more.

“Wait. What’s happening?” Goosebumps layers on his skin when he hears Y/N crying and he walks away without telling Holly he’s heading out.

“Harry ... Tums, he died in his sleep.” Harry halts in his tracks. Staring at the parking sign blankly and his eyes fills with tears and his breath shudders as he tries to speak, “’M coming.”

..

Rori left and took Tums with her after tucking Y/N in bed and making sure she’s okay.

Her ears perks up when the door clicks softly accompanied by low sniffles and it pools more moisture in her eyes and the tears trick down her chin and onto pillow — because hearing him cry is just so agonising.

“Muffy ...” The mattress dips behind her and he’s scooching close to her planting his cheek against her shoulder.

His warmth melts her but she recoups wiping her eyes dry and wavers in a thorny voice, “Go away.” She distances herself from him and turns stiff.

“Moppet, please ...” He protests and she hampers herself from snapping at him.

“Go away, Harry. Leave!!” She's muffling her cries into pillow and when she faces him – Harry's chin wobbles because his muffy looks terrible and awfully sad and it’s breaking him weakly and perfectly.

“Why don’t y'go back to whatever you were doing with Holly!” She gasps moistly for a breather and Harry stands up, nose red and runny and eyes bloodshot.

“Jus’ say yer’ jealous.” He wants to be fierce with her about what she said but his voice barely comes out without being shaky and his heart is full of sorrow.

“And if I say I’m, then what?” She’s pathetically hiccupping (continuously) so much her neck hurts and she has never sound so uncertain and pleading and expectant to know if he might love her?

That if there’s something more between them than just providing eachother pleasure and being eachother’s missing half when they were lonely.

More, than just two bestfriends being eachother’s back of the hand.

He doesn’t respond and she shouts for him to stop and answer her and throws a cushion towards him, but he just leaves her to it.

Harry’s just worried she isn’t ready to take either of his confessions well.

..

Snowy sits in her lap. Max and Luna (Rori's girlfriend) are wrestling onto the mattress they took from Harry's bed and laid on the floor, (which he'd grump about when he'll be too pissy to move it back in the late night).

He’s been cranky and acting proper ratty with anyone and everyone he comes to interact with since that day.

He felt like his world turned upside down because now everything’s just against him, his milk gets soggy every morning and all of his socks and hoodies are at his little thief's home and snowy takes revenge from him for hurting Y/N by pissing on his shoes everytime he’s about to leave.

Cherry on creamy top!

He just couldn’t stop thinking about his bambi and might have chewed his fourty years old assistant ears with his rambling of Y/N and his endearment for her and unfortunately he just ficked up bad.

“’M so hungry. If Ni will cheat another round on me, I’ll be munching on his toes!!” Y/N exclaims huffing out and kicking Niall in shin as they were playing Mario cart and he’s been winning for an hour just by his cheating tricks.

They all got together after many days at Harry’s flat while he was at the duty and he promised them that he’d bring pizzas with him and now it’s almost 12 and they’re waiting and waiting in anticipation for him to arrive.

When the door knob jiggles everyone’s jumping up and scrambling closer to the door because they all are that hungry and Harry’s hands are piled with pizza boxes, soon their hungry excited expressions are dulling into annoyance and viscid displeasure when Holly peeks from behind Harry.

Still all of them manage to plant fake smiles and everyone’s greeting her.

“What took you guys s'long?” Y/N speaks lowly through a forced smile the one that doesn’t reaches her eyes and doesn’t make them appear as they are pools of earthly soil, “Oh .. we just stopped to buy some muffins -- Harry told me how much you like them, Bambi.” Oh fuck. There goes the pressure cooker blasting and rattling through each and every wall of this room and the tension thickens around and Luna's coughing and everyone is just treading back to their spots awkwardly and with disappointed sorry sighs for Holly because if before Y/N didn’t hold a grudge against Holly now she’d.

Because, for fuck’s sake!!! Nobody, calls her that except Harry!

It was their own intimate little sweet love name that Harry calls her and her only.

Not even their friends.

Not even Niall.

Just him.

Him.

Him.

And.

Him.

Now, she just came from out of the fucking blue and popped their bubble of intimacy and Y/N feels like one of those anime characters where they've a frown hanging on their head larger than their size and there’s fire enveloping them before she bursts out in rage and scream at Holly and Harry too.

She sighs. She’s far better than creating a scene and gladly accepts the box of muffins from Holly whose smile is overly sugar coated and this is what Harry says when he tells her he doesn’t like sugar in much amount – it’s irksome, Y/N’s talking about humans specifically.

“’s not even my favourites.” She mumbles staring at the vanilla strawberry muffins and Holly just shrugs and Harry gets tensed keeping his voice hushed while Rori and Him unboxes the pizzas in the kitchen, “Just thought a change would be good.” Y/N’s throat clogs up just at that. She finds it hard to even gulp down the piercing emotions piling up there.

Y/N just hates changes.

Holly wants to change everything about Harry and his surroundings, even this dinky flat he lives in —- he’s a dentist why’d he live here?

Holly tries not to grimace.

“You know Y/N hates changes, Harry I know that you guys might not be serious but we all are well aware that you too —-- fuck, Harry! Why are you fucking it up!” Rori whisper yells at him as they throw the empty boxes frantically and hurriedly to go back to living room and handle the situation before it gets out of hand.

“Ontop of that. Why did ya bring, Holly with you!? She isn’t ... well she isn’t much par to any of our likings.” Harry just runs his hands through his curls and he knows that it’s afflicting Y/N, his baby muffy who wouldn’t even see him in eye since that incident and he really wishes that all of this ends soon.

“What d'I do!? she’s my staff head and I’ve to play nice to her.” He squeaks out in a bit panic and he’s exhausted and tired and really running out of his Bambi's cuddles but she wouldn’t even let him set foot in her flat.

Even though how much he argued that, “Remember y’said this’s our one big home? Well I could be in me home whenever I want.”

Though when they're out with bright smiles and announcing that food is here, acting as if him and Rori didn’t just had an ASMR argument in kitchen.

Harry’s heart. The each chamber of his heart got cut up into pieces and fell somewhere in his stomach when he hands the plate to Y/N and she takes it without meeting his eyes, starving him off her sweet butterflies wooshing smile and tries to avoid from getting any physical contact between their fingertips and cuddles back into Ni's side as if she’s utterly cold.

She’s jealous and hurt and furious that Harry has mighty revealed their intimate nitty gritty details to Holly.

All of that aside. She’s very sad and lost and feels lonely all over again because she has no-idea that what are they, where they stand out of their bestfriends bubble and if whatever happened between them was fever dream?

“What happened, pet? Not hungry? Y'were ‘bout to munch us alive seconds ago.” Niall chuckles gingerly and nudges her as she just hovered her pizza on her plate and never brought it to her mouth.

Harry wipes his hand on his jeans listening that and Holly’s side eyeing him gauging for his reaction and her face hitches up into displeasure when he stands up and strides towards Y/N in two long steps.

“D'ya want another flavour? Is it cold? We could order somethin' else if you want to ....” His voice caring and antsy and he’s contemplating whether to sit beside her and coax her to eat but she’s chewing onto it and shrugging, speaking with a mouth full and yet again never sparing him a single glance.

“No, ‘m good.”

Holly judges Y/N’s battiness and locks up the urge to roll her eyes at this girl who Harry’s so whipped for -- she could ramp him under her feet (which Y/N would never – Holly’s just a mean ass who likes to think negatively about everyone) and he'd still beg her to do it all over again.

Holly just loves to be a victim in situations where she doesn’t even have a role, but still tries to fit in as a victim.

The truth is. She wants Harry bad. And, it’s all written clear on her face.

Their hang out didn’t take the route they planned for it to be and Y/N was heading out early conscious of Harry’s gaze on her all the time when Rori yelled enthusiastically with a bright proud grin, “Everyone's invited to Y/N's painting exhibition on Sunday, aren’t we Y/N!?”

Harry’s head snaps towards each of his friends like a lost puppy and when all of them are smiling and nodding their heads in agreement his eyes just brawls out and he feels like crying and throwing a tantrum because she didn’t tell him about it! and even if not, he didn’t got a chance to be the first one to tell her how proud he’s of her.

Rori winces when Harry rushes behind Y/N and the door's shutting behind leaving them in awkward silence again.

“You didn’t care t’tell me? ‘s such a big mo' fo'y.” He scowls. Folding his arms infront of his chest and Y/N grumbles stomping her feet onto floor.

“You were too busy —-..”

He knows what’s about to come next. The taunt and fight and something heartbreaking that’d slip from their tongues and hurt them brutally and part them away, “Baby.” He’s sighing rubbing the knot on his forehead and him calling her baby was enough to mush her into a candy floss.

“Yell at me. Punch me. Brake me nose. D'ye thing but pleaseee don’t gimme a silent treatment ...,” His eyes glossy and Y/N kinda feels remorseful and she might not give into him that easily but she isn’t to be blamed because she’s just so putty in his embrace and he could win her heart all over again as many times he wishes.

Though when she’s speaking to him after long period of four days and nine hours and cursing him out he’s still very thankful and gleeful grinning and scooping her up in his arms, “You’re a downright asshole you know that? One of our baby cat died and you were too busy havin' lunch with that, witch.” She isn’t hiding her hatred for Holly anymore and Harry cackles infuriatingly loud and brushes his cheek against her neck.

“’M sorry. Not g'na do tha' evea' again swear on me life.” He mumbles coherently.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He’s hooking their pinkies together and kissing them to seal the affirmation.

..

Harry loves BDSM. Something he explored upon lurking around a sex club when he was right about to turn eighteen, of which oh so Y/N's savvy about from all those nights where she could be able to hear guys and girls howling like they got fucking murdered even sitting in the farthest cubby of her own home.

She'd not argue to him about that because of her shyness and second the music that she used to blast through speakers while painting, so they were equal.

He was quite peculiarly never interested in having romantic relationships with people -- he was just interested in what’s between their legs and sometimes their mouth.

But with Y/N. With Y/N he wants to make love to her. Lit sweet warm scenting candles that’d sheen their skins with ardour and have vases filled with flowers and cook her a dish she likes – then they share a glass of wine (optional) if they want to remember it all.

He wants to have every nice and warm thing with her, things he never got to experience.

He wants to love.

To love her.

He never really exposed himself to words like amity, adoration and intimacy. Thinks that those words are too big for his heart which’s too compact for someone to build a home in.

He hated certain stuff. On purpose. Like scrabble when his father and his friends made fun of him for liking scrabble and he kicked that shit so hard it tensiled into space — or he thinks so because he never saw it laying on his childhood floor ever after that.

Then again, Y/N came into his life and brought his scrabble back (teased him that she stole it from some kid that lives downfloor) they play whenever they could and ends up fighting everytime because, zzz isn’t a word but Harry claims it is for people who snores like they're gonna choke into their pillow next moment.

He hated interacting with people. Don’t even have an idea how he got these bunch of maniacs as his friends and then Y/N, he just thinks she’s made specially for him only carved from the cream of tenderness, beauty of love and sent upon to him like an Angel.

Harry hates sugar. But, yet again he likes no scratch that -- he loves Y/N so it doesn’t even matter.

At the moment when he’s crowded by gushing and whispering and laughing people. Praising and chatting and loving on his Bambi —- he feels like the word hate never existed in his life because all he could feel his heart is floating in copious amount of love for his Bambi as he stands in the corner letting his eyes admire her in affection.

He takes a sip of white wine from his glass and hisses when plays with his earlobe out of instinct and ends up prodding himself from where he pierced his ear two hours ago.

A smile so tiny but full of elation and lilac-ness twirls on his relaxed face upon reminiscing it – his eyes falling at her trousers and he gives himself an imaginary pat on back.

“You’re gonna repay me by ironing my trousers.” She told him standing between his parted legs and he scooted closer to the edge of counter and grabbed her teeny hands compared to his's and puts them over his thick thighs, “Whateva' y'say ma'am. ‘course now ye’re ‘bout to become a sexy artist with her own gallery ‘n all tha’.” He smirked and she rolled her eyes dabbing the cotton ball with alcohol and swapped his soft earlobe with it.

“’S not mine.” She murmurs and Harry woven his fingers with her's and tugged her forward. Lips brushing her temple and he shrugged, speaking, there’s nothing for her to be insecure about, if no one's proud of her, he is, he always gonna be, “Does it matter? Those paintings are yours. That room will be filled with your talent – ye're g'na own one soon, mark me words.” His grip tightened when she rubs her hand at his chest to warn him beforehand and he feigned that he’s scared and horrified to make her anxious about it.

“You’re sick in head you know that?” She mumbles grounding down the shakiness of her wrist as she poked the needle through his earlobe and his voice just did a lil loopy-loop as he spoke, “Yeah ... many patients tell me when I don’t give ‘em enough anaesthetic and rip their teeth out.” She blinked up at him with wide eyes and smacked him when he just slumped down against the mirror if nothing happened, his rims floaty and blown out.

Sometimes he jokes too seriously it startles, Y/N.

“You could say an ouch, atleast. Big man.” She giggled taking the needle out and puts a black cross earning after cleaning his brand new piercing, “Ouchhh!” He moaned out dramatically, fingers gliding down his skin under his eyes to reveal pink flesh and blue veins and his eyeballs.

“You’re an ass! Now go iron my trousers D’ya want me to go bottomless?” She chortled out loudly and her laugh boomed through the small washroom when Harry’s hand spanked her bum playfully, “Perhaps tha’ is what I’d never want in any case – even if I’ve to showcase me bum to everyone.”

“Harry?” She’s gazing up at him with deer eyes and tugging at his blazer to gain his attention, “Everyone’s gone?” He looks behind to get the sight of their friends laughing and chatting.

“Yeah.” Harry’s heart tweaks upon hearing her exhausted and sluggishly soft voice. She giggles into his cheek when he slings his arm around her shoulder and runs his nose up and down her head walking towards their equally tipsy friends.

“Everyone lets bunch up to give, Muffy a cuddle.” Harry drawls out. His warm breath tickling her neck and everyone just roars out gathering around them and giving them a big bear hug and Y/N's eyes turns glossier because she’s feel so loved and cared.

Just because of Harry.

When they see off their friends, Y/N isn’t rushing back to her agency’s manager to ask how much paintings she sold instead she’s snuggling into Harry’s embrace and let’s him escort them out and into the cool wind.

“You really deserve chocolate muffins, don’t ya, pet?” His chin doubles as he tries to take a look at her satisfied and relaxed face as they trod on the side of road like two penguins providing heat to eachother.

They’ve drunk quite a nice amount of bevvies. Enough that mighty would make them forget the events that are happening now and that’s nice because they could be embarrassing and cringey with having to think about it later.

“No.” Harry grabs her hand that was about to push the door of the lil bakery and she’a huffing up at him and swatting his hand away with a loud thwack, “’M an independent woman, H.” He just slides her hand away -- retorting with a smile, “And’m a gentleman.”

She squints up at him with scrunched up pouty lips and he’s mimicking her squinting her square in the eye. The clock ticks by and they break into a hand wrestling and he’s squeaking out childishly when she pinches his wrist but he’s coming back with scissor fingers demanding her to do a “stone, papers, scissors.” Fight with him.

When he’s wiggling his fingers in fire gesture she’s groaning out and throwing her arms in air, “Fire beats everything!!” He yells duckishly and spins around doing a little dance.

“Fine.” She grumps folding her arms around her torso and he’s ducking down to smooch annoying kisses to her cheeks and all over face.

Harry’s forearms remains roped around her waist and his chin rests ontop of her head, her back stays pressed to his taught warm chest whole time. Every two minutes or so she raises the muffin she’s eating to his lips and he’s taking a chunky bite out of it as they trod their way back home.

“Dun, dun dun dunnnn, do do ...” She giggles when he sways them. His chest rumbling with his deep drunk octave and she cups his cheek.

“What you singing, honey?” He just giggles clinging to her and hides his face into her neck – murmurs then takes himself out of her fragrance and shouts into the air.

“The pink panther’s song!!” She woofs out a laugh at that and he shoves his face into his palm, wheezing out cutely, “I'know y'laughin' ‘cos ‘m sayin' stupidddd things.....,”

The bunny vociferous laughs that emits from their bellies, tumbles them to the ground and the moment they look towards eachother they burst into more giggles.

Y/N scrambles towards where he’s clutching his side and rolls to face her and she crawls up his chest.

It feels good to waste time on the footpath when their hold on eachother’s this soft, warm and meaningful and full of love.

Their cheeks coral, their grins achy and their eyes gleamy ---- hands wandering and comforting eachother, cuddly and sottish and cosy laying right outside their the homes building.

He hugs her closer to him. She snuggles herself into him and worms into a touch starved shrimp and the words are on the tip of his tongue, they’ve been shown in his sentiments with zeal and passion in past and now they’re bouncing in his chest.

Though, he gulps them back.

He really couldn’t.

“I love you,” It flows away in the wind but she catches onto it and flies with it and pushes herself up on his chest blinking in perplexed rapture.

He’s breathing it out again. This time maybe slurry from inebriation but clear and audible, “oh my god baby .... I love you s'fuckin’ much.” He cradles her face in his palms and slides his forehead against hers.

“You love me?” She whispers and he giggles at her bewildered expression and bobs his head, “That’s what ‘m sayin' pet.”

She knows that she loves him too. More than anybody. Every inch of her body soaks into the word love for him.

She pauses for a moment, “How — but, I mean –- What did I do?” He just shrugs, “Dunno.” His dimples foaming deep and pretty.

“I just think we would be a good us,” At that her head perks up kitten like and she moulds her palms around his either side of neck as if he’s her warm chocolate cuppa, she smiles slowly, “We'd be a wonderful us.” Her gaze glitters on his wine moisturized pink lips and she gives him an eskimo kiss.

“Gimme a kiss then,” She demands pursuing her lips adorably but he shakes his puff of curls and pushes her face back gently, “No!” Her brows pinches together at that and she pokes his dimple pouting sadly.

“But, why?”

“I don’t wanna forget our first kiss.” He whines and paws at her hips to bring her back closer to him and she giggles muttering a silly under her breath and tries to tempt him.

“Kiss me, in this way ... we could have our firsts twice!” He gives into her mischievous offer and sighs cradling her face in his hold and murmurs against the corners of her lips, “Only ‘cos you’re cute and wouldn’t stop peskin'.” She’s grinning and pulling him with her hands and smashing her petal lips against his's, their eyelids springs close and he’s squishing her chasing to deepen the kiss and when she's parting away he’s rushing to peck her lips right back to kiss her more.

“I could really cry just by kissin' you, moppet.” He licks the spots of chocolate from her chubby bottom lip and bites it and she’s melting her mouth again over him, kissing him delicately and sweetly having a certain desire and yearn to just star into one soul that balms there tummies.

“W’na kiss you forever.”

Harry never believed into forevers.

Then Y/N wrapped him in her oh so Y/N-ish blanket and now he wants everything with her for, forever.

“Oh. Hush baby. You’re gonna gimme a tooth ache.”

..

Y/N regrets saying that. Because she’s waking up with a headache, blurry vision and churning stomach ontop of every pain the ache in her tooth came to bite her in ass and she’s hissing grabbing her cheek to soothe it down.

“Fuck my —- damn hell ...” She mutters when even the slightest of air in her mouth stings her tooth like a bitch and it dollops tears on the corners of her eyes because she has never gone through a toothache before.

She’s bargaining in Harry’s flat and into his room and he’s properly wafted, face smashed into his elbow as he wheezes through his parted mouth. She’s shaking him gently because the shrivelling drive of pain is growing after every second.

“Harry!” He’s jolting up and snapping his head in every direction instantly his sleepy gaze melts on her (a sight he'd like to have every morning) but she looks rather rotten with a nest on her head and her last night’s clothes crumbled and when she's quipping an, “It hurts Harry ....” With teary eyes, He’s immediately scurrying closer to her and holding her -- confused at first.

“What's hurtin', pet?” He mumbles groggily and she sniffs, “My tooth –- fuck.”

He sighs knuckling at his eyes and kisses her hair throwing the duvet away, “Sit here yeah? ‘m g'na wash me hands real quick and check it, hmm?” He wipes the corner of her eyes and massages her shoulder -- then unfists her hands to make her release some tension and puts them on her knees.

He’s muttering a, “Good girl.” When she nods obediently and watches his back as he trudges inside the washroom.

Coming back with towel in his hands and throws it on the bed while sitting on his knees and adjusts her between them.

“Can y'open a bit mo' f'me, darling?” He asks gently caressing her hip to loosen her up. He already knows what's about to come next and he’s afraid she’s going to be very batty about the procedure, “Aaaaa.” She practically makes the noise trying to part her jaw as far as she could while Harry’s hand remains intact around it inspecting her mouth and she’s anxious that she has a morning breath but the memories of all those time she would practically drool on his cheeks while sleeping makes her feel less awful about it,

He chuckles tapping lightly on her upper moral, “Ow!” She swats his hand away when his action physically makes her whole body go through a pang.

When she looks up at him with ticked brows and huffy pout biting the flesh of her cheek between her two morals to just do something -- anything to get rid of the pain, Harry rubs the frown away with a grimace and brings her for a hug.

“’M s' sorry baby. But, looks like it’ll need a root canal.” If his bambi wouldn’t be in such pain he indeed would have lectured her and thrown away every sweetened thing in her jars out of the window.

“Can y'endure a lil pain and wait till my last appointment? So, I could take care of you afterwards.” He asks her lovingly and his reasoning makes butterflies erupt in Y/N’s belly and she almost almost forgot about her toothache but then it pangs again and she’s hugging him tighter mumbling into him, “Sure.”

He’s making her change her clothes and made her porridge letting it cool down to a temperature where it wouldn’t stick or ache her teeth.

“Y/N ...” He glowers at her sternly when she pushes his hand away holding the painkillers and that intense ferocious glare where his soft jade eyes are turning into something very dark is enough to tell her that if she’s not taking them, there's a big scold coming and after that no leniency for an argument so she takes it without throwing another tantrum.

After making sure she’s fed well and tucked into bed he’s stroking her hair and massaging her head, adjusting her pillow as she likes, kissing the tip of her nose as he murmurs.

“Rori will be pickin’ y’up sharp at 5. Told her to wake you up gently if you’ll be sleepin’.” Her eyes are dreamily glassy and she smiles lightly and she’s already missing his touch on her skin when he stands back up ready to leave.

She really wanted to say it.

Dying to say it, infact.

But all that came from her mouth was, “I’m gonna miss you.” Earning a giggle from him in return.

“G’na miss you terribly too.”

..

Rori drove Y/N to hospital. She’s still in Harry’s clothes that he made her wear in the morning, a black galaxy sweater and wide loose pants a beanie on her head to protect her from a headache and when the receptionist waves her enthusiastically upon her arrival Y/N’s smiling but never opening her mouth knowing the bitch would be back.

“Dr. Styles went for a staff on-call. He'll be here any moment, you could go inside.” Y/N’s nodding and padding inside his room. The pain has lessened a bit and that gives her teensy energy to wander around his room admiring his lil achievements, the medal he won last year and right beside it the pen holder she gave him it that has a “HORRAY TAKE BABY STEPS BABY STEPS HONEY!!” written obnoxiously on it as if she’s screaming it to his face and she giggles at her own silly gift.

She gasps and ends up knocking her hip into his desk as Harry steps in and laughs loudly at her, tutting with a shake of his head, “Jumpy little thing you’re.” Out of habit his hands are falling at her hips and bringing her closer.

“How’re y'muffy?” He asks and she’s bobbing her head up and down dramatically but silently making him chuckle.

“’Kay get yourself comfy on the seat ‘m gonna call my assistant t’give you anesthetic.” He suppresses a smile when she worms her bum up the slippery seat and goes on pushing different buttons moving it up and down.

“How adventurous.” He snickers switching the examination lamp and she rolls her eyes. His assistant’s eyeing them with happy eyes from under her glasses and Harry’s putting his latex gloves aside as she fills the injection and Y/N's muscles tenses up in anticipation, as she tries to blink the fear away and musters up a weak smile.

Knowing she has a fear of needles. Harry rolls the stool he’s sitting on closer to her and interlaces their fingers together, he coos sweetly, “It’ll be just a pinch baby.” Though, Y/N thinks Harry’s a motherfucking liar because it apparently is not just a pinch but feels like a stick shoved up your ass.

When the assistant leaves them to fetch something, Harry’s stroking the fringes of her hair behind with benevolent and caring eyes and smiles down at her sincerely.

“I want y'to relax, moppet. Yeah? Could y'do tha' f'me?” This time when he’s poking or prodding she isn't slapping him away and he’s grateful because that means her gums are numb properly.

He’s caressing her arm to assure her that she has nothing to be afraid about when she startles hearing the buzz of instrument that’s about to rip her poor gum apart.

Surprisingly she was easy. Because, Harry was so gentle with her and when he’s ushering her to spit in the little sink and she’s laying back with cloudy eyes and a grin Harry just knows the anaesthesia is kicking in.

It means that she’s allowed to blabber every dumb thing to him (she doesn’t need anaesthesia for it by the way), without any filter and timidness she’s about to chatter his brain alive.

Her gaze slowly rakes down his torso as if she’s undressing him with her eyes and she’s grinning -- more blood pooling in her mouth, “You look very handsome in scrubs — you know that?” Her words wobblish but full of naughtiness and Harry arranges them himself barking out a delighted laugh when she tugs at hem of his clothes perking her lips.

“I could really kiss you right now....” Her voice clear with desire but a hint of neediness and fondness for him and he’s gazing her down with gleamy endearment and snorts bringing the water cup to her lips, “Sorry Bambi but don’t like kissing a bloody mouth.” She keeps her doe eyes on him and they turn sad while she gurgles the water in her puffed up cheeks and spits it again into sink, about to protest with him but he’s shushing her and laying her back onto the seat.

“Not even me?” She grumps up at him and he’s retorting shaking his head in rejection, he's just trying to rile her up because he himself thinks that a single peck wouldn’t hurt.

“You’ll get an answer to this after we're done with you,” He muses softly when her eyes flicker with glee.

She was all over him as if she’s a small baby who needs his guidance to walk her way out and Harry was waving his staff goodbye with nervous lamblike smile while he tries to balance her against his chest.

The whole ride back he refrained from cooing and making im-a-fool-who-is-shamlessly-in-love noises. How could he not? When she looks this cute and cuddly in his clothes, head lulling every once a while as she sleeps facing him, her hand on his thigh to keep her reminded of his presence.

Harry’s grabbing it and kissing her knuckles. A jolly smile fluttering on his features and he isn’t waking her up as the reach and takes her into his flat – flumps her down on his bed gently and gets rid of her shoes and sweater.

Even skips dinner. Gets out of his work clothes and takes a glance of his sleepy girl standing from the wardrobe and the light clicks off before his gangly body is sliding under the duvets beside her.

Warm, sweet and cosy.

His all day's exhaustion fuses into nothingness when his feet comes caressing her calves and his chest presses to her shoulders and his elbows shelters around her in a protecting loving manner.

His heart hiccups a happy beat when she turns to his side and snuggles into him murmuring in haze, “Love you.”

He trips into utter shock. Staring down at her with baffled eyes but then the memories from past night comes upon crashing down at him like a crystal wave of ocean and floats him to an island where he belongs, always fated to belong.

He confessed his love for her.

She confessed it back.

They both were stupid and forgot it.

Now when she’s telling him that she loves him Harry feels like he’s rather about to pass out or squeal into pillow.

“I love you too, baby.” He's just wrapping her closer to him and lingering a wet kiss to her forehead.

..

Y/N’s moral was grinded, she keeps on swiping her tongue over it even how much Harry scolds her about it (it feels like a small plateau that got separated away because of an earthquake, y/n has made her own imagination about her tooth) and Harry let her chose the colour of filling that will be the mould of her crown, it was just an unnecessary thing to make her feel cheerful about it.

“Is Harry busy? Who’s inside?” She’s asking the old receptionist tapping her nails against the marble counter in eagerness to be done with it and that she’s about to take him to this yummy Thai place.

“Oh. He’s with his girlfriend right now.” Placid sereneness dooms over them and Y/N falls frightfully quite.

The poor assistant doesn’t know what she has uttered.

She just told her what the rumours has told her.

Her jittery smile drops into a blue scowl, her legs weakens at the thought and she nearly trips when Holly appears from inside his room.

It bitters her mouth with taste of anger and outrage.

Holly passes her a tight empathetic smile as if she knew everything from start and Y/N’s striding past her in resentment, her mind smoked with betrayal and vehemence.

“Hi. Moppet.” He rolls his stool over smiling up at her and it tightens her chest so much she chokes onto a breath.

How could he? No. No.

How dare he!?

But, there’s no need to cry over split milk now is it? She has to accept it that they could never be something more than just bestfriends.

“Hi.” She mumbles blocking her tears in the back of her eyes somewhere and Harry frowns, asking politely as she sits, “Feelin' alright?” She just nods and it takes Harry off-guard.

Where is his bubbly Muffy?

“Are you hurtin' somewhere?” He asks again pushing her upper lip to get a better look of her tooth. When she denies he lets it slide.

Though, when the assistant injects her and she’s groping Harry’s thigh because in grief everything hurts more than usual and her heart is dripping with sorrow and loneliness and grief she’s on verge of breaking into pieces right on this seat.

Harry’s brows clinches together in worry but she’s inhaling a puff of breath and giving him an etiolated smile to finish this as soon as possible and leave before she humiliates herself infront of him.

Her crown didn’t fit and he had to do a little more grinding. Meanwhile, Holly’s entering the room and Y/N shuts her eyes pretending that she isn’t there.

It hurts. Not in her tooth. Everywhere. Like a force is ripping her apart through a saw and it hurls her into deep agony and her heart almost stops functioning.

Harry was too focused and worried about her eerie behaviour that he ignored the frail hits on his thigh and Holly’s taking his name loudly making him stop.

Y/N’s jolting up and gagging into the sink beside her. Her knuckles turning white from gripping it ruthlessly.

She stares the clots of blood and mucus washing away with blurry eyes.

“Baby?” Harry quickly rubs her back anxiously and scrutinise with raucous beating heart as her hands shivers cupping the water and taking it in her mouth.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Are y'okay? Pet?” His voice drips with panic and dread that the worst happened to her because of him --– if the case's true he's never gonna touch her again.

“Y/N!?” He’s growling loudly when she doesn’t reply him and keeps on crying. His eyes turning back concerned and soft when she hiccups a weep, “It hurts Harry ....” Holly rolls her eyes, leans against the desk and puts the file she brought to Harry beside her.

“You’re not a child anymore, Y/N. Ofcourse it’s gonna hurt.” She snickers and this makes Y/N cry more – Harry’s holding her hands in his and stroking his thumb at her knuckles.

“Dunno --...– maybe –- ma —,” Harry’s emerald eyes are boring into her murky one's and it pierces her soul away from her inside.

Their heads perk up when Holly asks her rudely, “Are you doubting Harry?”

Y/N shakes her tiny defeated head vigorously, “No! Why —.. why would I?” More tears pooling in her waterline and dropping at the back of Harry’s hand. He rushes to wipe them away and shush her but Holly’s acidic laugh is echoing.

How could she even think that?

Y/N could never doubt him.

Why she has to be so mean to her everytime?

“I mean you —,” Holly opens her mouth to speak but Harry’s cutting her off sharply, “Dr. Jenner enough. I’ll appreciate it if you wait f'me outside.” His head snaps back to Y/N who’s wiggling out of his hold and gasping out -- her pupils blown out and woozy.

“I just need a breather.” Saying this she’s out before Holly leaving Harry baffled and agitated to ponder over how she was pain and he failed to realise sooner.

..

The zephyr is tranquil. Frolicking with her heart and the grass is dewy under her as she runs towards an empty bench outside where there’s barely any light and she wishes Harry never comes to look for her.

She’s such a mess.

Her chest suffocates with a sob. She’s trying to lull her breath back to normal just like he tells her to.

When she flutters her eyelids into vision a hand with a cross on it’s thumb is pressed onto the bench beside her and there’s an afflicted pause in the atmosphere before she slowly faces him and places her hand atop his hand.

Her breath shudders through a smile, the tension in between them thickening as Harry feels her so close but so distant from him.

Emotionally and mentally and even their souls feels trapped within their own bodies.

It upsets him, to see his Bambi like that,

“’M so sorry, Harry. My intention wasn’t to embarrass you.” She isn’t serious? Sometimes he wants to bang his head at nearby wall at her silliness.

“You didn’t.” He assures her gently.

“But I did. Infront of the person you love.” It pains to say it. In the end she could suffer from anything for his happiness even if it’s handing him to the wrong person if he loves them.

Harry’s eyes turn moist at that. An unbelievable sour laugh eliciting from his lungs as he shoves his palms into his sockets, rubs them harshly and grasps her wrists pulling her closer to him with one furious tug.

“Yeah because that’s you, dumbass!!” Y/N’s body turns into a stone at his stern confession and she’s staring him with a throb in her heart and sad kitten eyes.

His brows pricks together ferociously and his lips twitches up as he speaks chopped on tears, “Every Daphne I pick up from the side-grass while comin’ back home t’you, these stupid stars in sky ‘n these ...” His shoes scrapes against the grass as he tries to show her, “....these stupid stupid shoelaces I tie around me ankles,” He’s raising his wrist to show her the milk bottle tattoo he got for he’s in love with her and their cats, once they were drunk, “... this fuckin' tattoo I got —- ‘s always been you.” He let’s the tears shine on his cheeks and soak them rosy.

“Always you, Bambi.” His accent gluteus and hoarse, “You’re always gonna be my sweet Bambi. Who I adore and love so much.”

“How?” She whispers in bewilderment and when Harry’s warming his forehead against her's tickling her lips as he murmurs, “Because you thought we'd be a wonderful us.”

A sob is wrecking out of her and she’s wrapping her arms around the nape of his neck pulling him down into a bone crushing hug, as the night they first confessed and had their first kiss makes a home in her mind.

She’s glad they didn’t forget their first.

“I love you.” Harry mumbles through a squished up cheek and saturates their chests closer with his hand planted firmly over her spine.

“I love you too. So much of it.” They’re crying elated tears knowing they’ve eachother to wipe them away and he’s sponging a tender kiss to her mouth and the corner of her lip avoiding where it’s swollen and her cheek is bloated.

The metallic taste of her blood lingers on his own lips.

“I could even kiss your bloody mouth, see?” He giggles feathering back his lips to her lips and gives her a chastise peck.

“Let’s put your crown, my highness.” Harry scoops up giggles from within her and tries to cherish this moment for as long as possible.

He’s never gonna forget his first, done twice.

..

Not a days go by where they don’t make love to eachother. A string of knot that connects their souls as Harry keeps his cock warm inside her while sleeping and it fattens inside her when they’re about to wake up and Harry’s rolling his hips into her lazily and gradually getting out breathy hums and whispers of whines from her —- her ankles locks behind his back and he’s always hitting and caressing the spots inside her which she was never able to reach herself with her short fingers.

Their bath times are intimate. Not full of adrenaline and thrill that one would end up having a foot cast from tripping from their playfulness, like they used to everytime. It’s delicate touches. Soft back rubs. Foamy head massages and cuddly bubbles. Smooching wet kisses. Heated makeout sessions and then drying eachother off, brushing teeth together and going to bed wearing eachother’s mismatched clothes.

Their mornings are spent lounging in bed and sharing a little love, sweet irresistible kisses, mouth sweet with eachother's tongues and hands comforting eachother, having a satisfying brekkie together in bed and sometimes the other is too tired to go (it’s usually Harry) and they always remind them they’re gonna come back home to eachother.

Harry made, Y/N explore herself. Introduced her to the tingles of what it feels to be rough and have a good shag that sends her into her sub-space where she doesn’t stop thrashing and spasming under him and He’s always there to bring her back to him and to take care of her.

They sometime do it in his office room too. Whenever she’s visiting him and he looks to alluring that Y/N could swallow him whole and his thighs man-spread deliciously as he sits on the stool in his damn scrubs, “You c’mere.” He pats his thigh dirtily in a command for her to straddle him and ride his cock and she’s always obeying like a good bunny moaning out feeling him in her tummy.

They’ve had countless of sex in Harry’s living room which they turned into a working studio for Y/N and whenever she's painting sometimes naked to tease him, how could Harry resist when she looks ethereal with her peachy bosom and her adorable tummy rolls and her innocent eyes and her cushiony thighs —- so he just pushes her thighs that he’s oh so in love with to her chest and pins her to floor and fucks her till she isn’t satiated enough.

Shower sex and bit of striptease when Harry’s knackered out. The hot water that prattles on their toes and their sweaty skins that slaps against eachother’s makes it much filthier and nastier.

They’ve bunch of romantic sex too. Oh boy! Just loads of romance where he’s too soft and mushy and dotting with her.

Sometimes, two people have deep connection that makes seem romance trivial and it isn’t about lust everytime. It’s about their souls. About the deepest part of who they’re as a person. Who they could be for eachother when the time strikes.

Just like right now. As, the stars twinkle outside and the dark snowy wind hits the windows; checked by the occasional gust that rattles the rooftop and the wood would creak to tell it’s presence. Fragrance of scented candles that of peonies, sparkling champagne and crème almonds surrounds them.

Harry brought Y/N on a holiday at a mountain and had a warm cosy wooden cottage booked for themselves.

They’ve spent it enjoying themselves and forgetting about their life in city. Today, the layer of foamy crystal snow is more than usual and they decided to cuddle up into their own little comfy cubby.

He takes his time feeling her skin and she nuzzles her nose up in his throat and giggles when he purrs.

The fire churning infront of them is similar to the one quenching in his belly as he sneaks his hand under her slip dress and fondles her nipples in between his calloused fingers.

“I wanna make love t'you, Muffy.” He mumbles grazing his blunt teeth down her sweaty pulse and laps at it splaying his palm close to her bum when she arches up into him, “I’m all yours.” She guppies around a gasp and he’s chuckling sweetly cradling her face in his hold and brews his lips against her's in a passionate endearingly hot kiss that moists her breath and her each ravine pore fills with love for him.

Their chests burns with carnal desire as he lays them on the flumpy nest of bed they made from blankets and pillows, his mouth keeps on tasting her with ardent fever and he situates himself between her and grinds their pelvises sensing her nipples stitching under his fingers and she’s gnawing her teeth into his petalish lip when he fills his palms with her tits.

“So cute.” He quips when she gasps whining for him to smudge his cocoa-vaseline covered lips back on her's and her lips brushes against his clavicles, emitting a perfervid whimper as Harry strokes his palm to feel her arousal and juices, “Hmm. I could just give you a flyin' kiss and you’ll still end up squirting.” He's easing his middle finger inside her and gazes her with profound sweetness when she pushes her palm up against his large moth and punctuates soft kisses to his vein at the side of his neck that prominents from their intimacy.

“Fuck. You get t've me cock daily but still so snug, pet. G’na stretch y'nice ‘n good.” He grunts, trailing soppy kisses down the valley of her breasts. Slicking his mouth around her nipple and she whines hungrily unceasing her fingers in his curls and pulls at them bringing him down for more kisses, “You love my kisses baby? Hmm? My baby loves me kisses ...” He coos suckling onto her lower lip and latches back full to her mouth and perennials it into pastels of wetness.

Sips down her moans when he slithers three more fingers into her and fits them deep, cupping his palm against her pussy. Something weirdly soft about his bare ring-less fingers and he runs his hips into her, “Feels good?” He growls looking down where his fingers drives into her.

When she bobs her head hungrily. She squirms – goosebumps pebbling on her skin and the mellow glow of candles melting on her when he pecks her and pecks her again, kissing her tongue as he mumbles, “Bet. It’ll feel more good with my cock inside y’pussy. Tell me moppet, who's little cunt is this?” He asks wiggling his middle finger to nudge the walnut shaped spot inside her – tucked within her walls and his other hand’s pressing her thigh to floor as he saps his teeth into her neck and leaves love bites.

Marking her as his’s.

“Yours. Please, it’s all yours.” She sobs out ardently. Crumbling and lurking at the edge to hold this pleasing feeling for some moment in her belly.

“Right.” He affirms. Licking the maroon marks he littered on her puddy skin and he's grabbing her shivery hand that was about to cup around his cock and stroke it, “You’re mine.” He strings their fingers together and brings it to his lips to kiss the soft pads of her fingers.

“All mine to love on, to cherish, to be proud of –-- You’re my little Bambi.” His infatuated dotting words are making her strike herself into him, quivering and blabbering, eyes shut in bliss and love and he’s helping her ride the sensation out.

The moment he’s taking his fingers out he’s interlacing those sticky cum covered fingers with her other hand and stretching her arms and pinning their winded hands atop her head into floor.

They’re moaning into waxy humidity when Harry sheathes into her and her walls soaps around his girth as he sinks himself into her, his heavy balls pressed buried deep to her bum and he’s smushing his face into her breasts and almost snuggles into her knowing how much she loves to just be wrapped into him as he pounds his cock inside her.

He’s sweltering his hips. Feeling her gooey warmth and rolls himself harder and she’s crossing her arms around his shoulder – kissing his neck and caressing the curls that’ve grown out a tad under his earlobes.

“I love you,” He's nosing at her jaw to tip her mouth towards him and kisses it —- his hold on her delicate but she’s coveting crescents into his knuckles and a bow of string connects their mouths as she pecks him till she’s running out of breath, “I love you. I love you so so much.” Even though they’re taking their time but Y/N doesn’t think she could last a minute longer the way he’s thrusting languidly but deeply into her.

“Show me then, c’mon baby cum on m’cock. Soak it. G'na keep it inside you ‘n sleep like tha', mphmp makin' me so so good —- g'na cum?” He rasps out and she’s whimpering blubbering out without much mind as he stuffs her full and enough.

Her voice meek and high-pitch, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She’s dripping all over him and coating him with her cum. He doesn’t not stop and pumps it back inside her roughly.

“Fuck. Baby.” His howl wounded and broken as he feels his balls tighten and he leaks inside her, “S'okay honey cum inside me Harry .. love how you make me feel – how big your cock is.” She grates her teeth into the eternity of his throat and punctures her lips to suck around the fading hickey she gave him two nights prior.

His hips stutters, and he keeps himself up with his weak elbows spurting ribbons and ribbons of thick seed inside her.

She moans out when he wouldn’t stop cumming and she thrashes upward with a final twist of his push, his words sultry and drunk on libido, “Fuck. I came so much – you’ll ‘ave to squeeze tha’ all out fo’ me,” He’s smoothing their arms down to let them be on eachother and Y/N sees the gears working in his mind when he grins.

“In case you’ll want a refill.”

She rolls her eyes cheek smashed into his bicep and pinches his nipple, “Way to ruin the moment –- you libido driven slut." A noise peeps out of her when he whumps on her and looks up at her with an amused expression.

“Y'know tha' slut shaming is inappropriate?” She just shrugs smiling around a yawn.

“Is that an invitation to whore shame y'then?” He listens to her heartbeat. Tracing pattern of yellow flicker on her skin and kisses the curve of her breast.

“Will that end up me havin' yer fingers in my bum?” She creampies around him at his genuine yet naughty question and he snorts out loudly stirring his cock on purpose that’s still snug inside her, “Hmm then ‘m defo a whore.”

“Harry!” She pouts and he squishes that pout as if she’s some duckling -- an old habit he'd never get rid of.

..

“Mrs. Styles!” Holly’s head perks up at the call and she’s looking down at the five month old baby that has her bum situated on her momma’s hip and she squeals joyfully bunching her momma's shirt in her tiny chubby hands.

Holly just simpers quietly not greeting the duo and keeps on walking as Y/N enters Harry’s office room.

His face brightens up. Dimples popping awfully cute just how Y/N loves and his smile widens into a toothy one as he leaves everything and scurries towards his girls, “Oh my two Bambis!” He's greeting them with loud sloppy loving kisses all over their faces that makes them squint their eyes and giggle ticklish from the faint stubble that’s growing on his chin.

Their baby. Harry never thought he was able to love someone this purely and extremely. From a grumpy kid himself and someone who used to loose his shit at the formula chugging machines he used to call them —-- he never even imagined to own one.

But, after two years into marriage and moving into a house with the love of his life everything had a possibility for him and their one room that’d look so empty just made his stomach squeaky and yearn for a little one that he could protect and hold delicately close to his chest and lather them in his kisses and smell their baby scent and have cuddles with them,

Harry really wanted her to be a December baby -- if not particular then winters.

Because she just looks like the joy of Christmas and the sapience of homely evening.

Her frost bitten poppy nose. Her plushy warm cheeks that of running his fingers over an old sweater that holds infinite memories for him, the shimmer in her eyes that of snowflakes and those lips she got from her mother that of marshmallows melting on hot chocolate.

Harry really fucked his dream of her being a winter baby by fucking Y/N at the wrong time of the year.

She ended up coming out on the most heated month, june.

Wasn’t his fault too. Because they were trying for so long and he'd be all excited for the pregnancy tests but then they'd come out negative everytime weighing a ball of sadness in his chest and when they conceived her –-- he didn’t even remember the damn date.

The pregnancy for them wasn’t that hard. Minus the eventual tantrums that were thrown his way as daggers but he was skilled to dodge them and lure his wifey back to him with chocolate chip cookies.

The process of her birth was life taking for Y/N and Harry had short comings in his breath from the way his wife would all be jerking in pain.

She had to endure the labour pain for three days.

It’d always tear him into sobs as he'd fall into Rori's arms while everyone stayed inside with her for a moment.

It wasn’t easy to look at the love of his life, his bestfriend, his Bambi, his everything go through so much pain and he almost ended up regretting having a baby but when she’d be all snuggled up into his side after a long tiring and screaming day with her bump swollen beautifully with his bubba inside, it used to relax him a bit,

When she came out all sticky and covered in blood he realized at that moment that; she truly is his’s.

Those earthy gem eyes that didn’t cry first five minutes but rather kept on staring at him intrigued as to why the man that used to chatter her ears away in thick sleepy accent when she was in the cosy spot of her mummy’s belly is now just crying and crying.

They made her with so much love and care.

She was just so soft to touch. Just like their favourite flowers.

She was his Daphne.

He’s grabbing her from armpits and immediately putting a hand under her diaper clad bum when she huffed making grabby hands at him, “Hi Daphne bub! Missed daddy much?” He coos bouncing her a little and rumbles his lips against her cheek to create farty noises.

She squeals fisting his hair and yanks at it. That makes Y/N laugh out loudly, “Careful there, H. She’s getting quite handsy.” He just smiles convincing his baby to have some mercy on his curls.

When Y/N tells him about his routine and her nap timing Harry’s just sighing kissing her lips and patting her ass to move, “I can take care of me baby -- doin' it fo' five months, forgot?” He took a paternity leave to spend more time with Daphne and his Bambi.

To be sure that they were growing and healing well.

Y/N has to take the cats for their monthly checkup that’s why she has to leave Daphne with Harry and even though she’s not fond of her in hospitals Harry assured her that he’s heading home soon.

When Y/N leaves, Harry blows raspberries at her face and she pouts just like her mummy and he’s squishing that pout like his own little duckling.

“Da',” She grumbles and Harry kisses her cheek fondly and lovingly, “Yes Da, bubblin. Guess like we’ve got a date with Pooh and Roo at home.” He guffaws out loudly when Daphne's eyes visibly twinkles at the name of her plushies she likes to chew on and get them all soggy by the end of the day.

“You’re such a minx, baby!” Harry thinks he couldn’t be happier.

He’s complete.

His family is complete.

[shouldntcryoverit]

Hello! Can I req intense sexual tension with Wolffe? reader is a sweet virgin but neither make a move until he notices marks on her? someone has been hurting her? and then he finally mans up and takes care of her/the situation and they both confess their feelings? I love that grumpy dog <3

Yes ofc you can! i’ve never written for wolffe i hope i did you justice!! and pls same wolffe holds such a special place in my heart i just want to give my bb a hug 😩😩💘

Wolffe x Reader

warnings -> injuries from war

asks are still open if anyone else has any requests!! <33

———————————————————————

“She isn’t fit for war.”

You had never expected those words to pierce your armour as quickly as they had. You weren’t fierce like the clones were, you didn’t even pretend to be, but you had always hoped that it wouldn’t be a cause of a problem. You helped in other ways; planting coordinations on the holomap, or watching battles play out from the view of the bridge. It had worked before, though he never seemed to approve. It made your face frown and eyes drown in embarrassment.

You could’ve ignored it; pretend you didn’t hear him. But that was just so much harder to do so with him. It always had been.

He didn’t even notice you had been standing there as he spoke through his commlink, typical really, but when you drew in a sharp breath his head turned and he grimaced. There was a split second where you thought you could see remorse in his eyes and curl of his lip, surprise and perhaps a little regret, but it was gone before you could register it.

“Excuse me?”

Wolffe raised an eyebrow. “It’s just different, what you’ve done before doesn’t help you in a battlefield. You aren’t coming.” He didn’t even try to apologise.

“Wolffe, you can’t make that decision for me!” It stung. More than it perhaps should’ve. His eyes never left yours, still burning in smoky aggression. It was a stare that made your bare arms shiver.

“I just did.”

The Commander blinked twice more, again that flicker of something you hoped to see, and turned his frame towards the exit of the tent. You couldn’t tell if his clenched jaw was in anger or defence.

You sucked in another breath and tried again. “I can look after myself.”

Wolffe sighed, pausing in his path. As he turned around, you regretted the tone of your voice. Even the expression on his face was enough to make you cower, but you held your ground.

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what is it, is it that you don’t think I can handle it?” A small part of you would’ve agreed with him.

“No, I just don’t think it’s a place for someone like you.” He took a step closer, now towering over your figure. You watched with widened eyes as his nose flared.

“You don’t have to protect me.”

“You’re just not coming.” He hadn’t denied his intentions.

You never broke his eye contact, stepping up to his level. You weren’t going to let him win. “I’m going anyway. You can’t tell me not to.”

Wolffe had nothing to say. He ran his tongue over his bottom lips as he fought back words to dissuade you. “Can’t I?”

Now you were the silent one. You blinked, and your stern expression faltered. He didn’t relinquish, but he broke his stare and looked to the exit he had previously tried to leave through. He met your eyes once more, only this time with a hint of a question. After a moment, he walked all the way, leaving you sloshing through the depths of your mind like it was water rising to your hips.

His salted opinion still stood when the chronometer clicked to 0500 hours. As the clones left the camp and moved to the next position, so did you. You didn’t need his approval; and it just so happened that this could be the one opportunity to finally prove that sarcastic, self righteous, perfectly brash Commander wrong. That thought alone reminded you of the way you felt as he scorn at you, a feeling of tightness rising up your throat. Though it didn’t mean anything, it never would, or should for that matter. The point still stood.

The next thing that cursed your vision was the last. The curvature of the land still expanded beyond your eyeline, bending and shaping in the right pathways you’d plan on taking. The mission was simple really; you’d use your navigation skills to replant coordinates in a seperatist base and trap the enemy before they could even notice the difference. With the help of your squad, you’d made it into the structure and had done your job perfectly. You had smiled in spite of yourself; your mind still scittering over the altercation you’d had previously. It was something you could gloat over, but perhaps completely the mission safely and returning to the safety of the bridge would be more your style.

It had all gone perfectly, but maybe too perfect. As your small number stood at the pickup zone awaiting a transfer, something shifted. The vibration of the air changed. No, it was the ground. Maybe even it was just you, but something did change. You stood up and scanned the vast expanse, and glanced up at Boots who had seemed to pick up on the very thing you were inspecting. He moved to do something, anything, but was stopped as a whirring sound grew deafening.

That was the last thing you could remember. In truth, that small recollection itself was a stretch. Your legs felt small beneath your feet, and it was when you went to check the state of your uniform that you realised you weren’t even standing. You were laying on a cot, or at least that’s what it looked like. Though you weren’t in the medbay. Your fogged brain still felt too clouded to decode anything, so you gave up trying.

“I don’t mean to boast.”

You turned your heavy lidded eyes to the other side of the room, to a chair more specifically. A clone was sat staring at your awakening figure. It was Wolffe; perhaps almost smirking though you couldn’t tell.

He jolted towards you as you moved to sit, notably pained as you winced against your injuries. “Careful.” He instructed.

“What happened?” You surprised even yourself as you spoke. Your voice was hoarse and shallow, and you hadn’t expected the burning sensation to rise so quickly as you opened your mouth. “Ack, my head kills.”

“C’mere, your wounds bleedin’.” His voice was monotonous, but his eyes betrayed that tone.

“Oh.”

Wolffe was the first to speak against the silence you left. He picked up a rag that had been left on a table beside you and dipped it in a vat of bacta solution. It stung as it reached your scratched forehead.

“I told you it was dangerous.”

You shot daggars at him. “Then shouldn’t you be proclaiming my failure?”

“I never said that you failed.”

You swallowed. His hand was so close to yours on the cot beneath you. And you could still feel the touch of his gloved hand even as it moved to the next area of bruised skin.

“Why are you here?” You asked again. Wolffe stopped in his tracks, glancing down and meeting your eyes.

He blinked before he spoke. “Your my responsibility.”

“No I’m not. Earlier, you wouldn’t of cared if I got hurt or not, you only wanted to tell me I couldn’t do it.” He seemed to bite his cheek as you spoke. Tears sprung to your eyes at the recollection. You needed him to care, but he just didn’t.

“Wouldn’t of cared?” He spat.

“You don’t think i’m good enough.” Keep it together.

“That’s the problem.” The rag was now left unattended as he dropped it, the Commander leaning backwards. He didn’t raise his voice, but the glare in his eye did it for him. “I don’t know how to tell you-“

“Tell me what?”

He ignored your question, but a redness began to rise up his neck. “I just can’t have you hurt like this. You should’ve listened to me.”

“Tell me what?” You repeated, only this time as a whisper. You hadn’t noticed how close your hands had gotten through the exchange. They paralleled how your face rose closer to his.

Wolffe locked his eyes with yours, dominating your breathing patterns as he silently pressed you to stop with your questions. “Don’t make me say it.”

You pleaded with your eyes, batting up at him with heavy lids. You hadn’t noticed how quickly your heartbeat had risen, and the blood rushing through your ears made it hard to focus on the throbbing of your wounds.

“Why?” You spoke once more, before the hand that was hovering over yours moved and clasped your cheek.

Wolffe’s movement incited fire within you. In the singular beat, his lips met yours in hast. They were rough and chapped and uncaring, but that opposed the hand that now ran fingers through your hair. The gesture itself was enough to prove your hypothesis right, but you found yourself forgetting that instantly. You lost all thought as the softness of your lips glided over the dents in his, and the silky skin of your cheek was brushed against with light stubble. A small smile blessed his lips as you gave into him, gleeful at the proposition of your acceptance. It was small and quaint, almost as if he was scared he could break you by doing anything brash. In fact you guessed that to be true of many things.

Wolffe broke the kiss far sooner than you would’ve liked, and it took you a minute to react to the absence of him. His eyes trailed over your face sweetly.

“I care, more than you know” He spoke hoarsely.

“Me too.”

[aimeelouart]

Repurposing a bit of server freewriting for part 2 of purring!Cloud (Saving Subject C AU). Lil’ bit of whump, lil’ bit of hurt/comfort, and lovely fluffy cuddles

Also doubles as a preview if we end up going in a certain direction, but tbh I doubt it. Either way, spoiler free.

--

Cloud held pressure across his stomach, grimacing as the pain came and went in throbbing waves. He’d already pulled the shrapnel out so his body wouldn’t seal around it. Now it was just a matter of staying still and keeping pressure on until it closed enough for him to safely move.

His chest was doing the fucking thing (he refused to put a name to it) but he couldn’t make it stop, which didn’t make any sense. Didn’t cats only...do the thing when they were happy? Why was it happening to him now? 

Fuck, at least the SOLDIERs weren’t around to hear it.

“Cloud!”

The call was still fairly distant. Cloud loosed an involuntary, irritated grunt at the sound. Shit, they were persistent. Maybe that wasn’t surprising. He had run off and destroyed Shinra property at the first available opportunity. With any luck, his hiding space would work until the hole in his side closed and he could make a proper escape. It didn’t have to be long. Just...long enough.

Gaia, he was starting to feel lightheaded. He cracked an eye open and checked the size of the blood puddle spreading from his side. It was much wider than he’d hoped. He might be in more trouble than he thought.

“There you are.”

Cloud breathed out a heartfelt “fuck” as Sephiroth’s voice reached him. Grimacing, he tilted his head enough to see the silver-haired demon kneeling and peering into the dark space beneath the broken lift Cloud was using for cover. He snarled at the man, but it was half-hearted at best. Even if he somehow found the strength to take up his commandeered knives again, he was too weak to run, never mind fight.

He’d miscalculated, and how he was going to pay for it.

But…

But.

Sephiroth didn’t sound angry when he dropped down onto his stomach and slid as far into the narrow space as he could. “Cloud, where are you hurt?” He sounded…concerned, alarmed, maybe even a little bit…afraid? “Cloud?”

“Fuck off,” Cloud slurred, confused. His sight was starting to gray a little bit around the edges. A real pang of concern shot through him. Had he missed an exit wound?

Sephiroth snorted a little, disbelieving. “Even when you are bleeding out, you still…” He reached, but even his long arm wasn’t quite enough to snag Cloud’s shirt. “Cloud, can you move toward me? Just a little bit.”

He hunkered down into himself, trying to apply more pressure. The pain was fading, and he still couldn’t make the stupid rumbling stop. “No.”

“I can’t help you unless you move a little bit, Cloud.”

“Fuck off,” he repeated, eyes starting to slide shut.

Another voice. “Seph?”

“He’s here. I can’t reach him.”

Cloud’s eyes shut all the way.

“Let me try. Here, Angeal, take my coat for a second.”

The voices were starting to sound like they were coming from underwater. Cloud felt, distantly, that this was definitely the point at which he should have been outright alarmed. He’d missed something. Probably an exit wound on his back, based on the blood loss. He’d be fine, even if they left him where he was, but they weren’t going to do that. He wished he had the strength to grab one of his knives.

“Cloud, sweetheart, can you say something?”

He found the will to say “fuck off” a third time. It sounded like “f’k ov.”

Genesis—that was Genesis—snorted. “Okay. Okay, I’ve…” Fingers snagged the edge of his sleeve. “…got you! I’ve got you, come on.” He pulled, sliding Cloud across the blood-slicked ground until he could grab an arm, and then Cloud was dragged from the safety of his hiding space and out into the light. Alarms were still going off in the distance. He smirked weakly.

“Shit, kiddo,” someone breathed as he was rolled onto his back. He couldn’t quite find the strength to keep his hand over the wound and it fell limply to the ground. “Did you⁠—is this a shrapnel wound? Cloud, did you pull it out?”

Duh, he thought, unable to articulate his disdain.

“Later, Genesis,” someone else said. Large, strong hands provided the compression Cloud wasn’t able to any more.

“I need to see his back. Get the shirt off.”

His shirt was cut off as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He was shifted, then propped up across someone as two more hands pressed down on either side of his torso. Magic flooded his body, sealing the path carved through his flesh. The gray retreated a little as another flood of magical energy compensated for his blood loss until his body could make up the difference. 

And, finally, the stupid purring stopped. He really, really hated that it seemed to be involuntary.

Cloud was shifted again, wrapped up in something primarily leather and then picked up like a swaddled infant. Fucking rude, he thought, struggling to drag his leaden eyelids up. A vaguely silver blur hovered above his face. He tried to object, but what came out of his mouth was closer to a grumpy kitten growl than articulated displeasure.

“Hush,” someone said. It might have been the silver blur. A water bottle was pressed against his lips and since he wasn’t completely self destructive, he drank.

“Little idiot. What was your plan, hmm? To bleed out under there?”

That was probably Genesis. Out of pure spite, Cloud managed to spit out a “yeah” in response.

A frustrated noise. A tired sigh. A rumbling, half-stifled laugh against his ear.

“Stop antagonizing him,” someone said. A hand passed over his face, brushing his staggering eyelids down. Tired, he let them stay closed. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk about appropriate responses to severe bodily harm later.”

And Cloud was...increasingly confused. It was hard to think, drained and cold and barely hanging on to consciousness, but none of this was what should have been happening. They were threatening...scoldings? No one was angry. He’d destroyed a massive amount of Shinra property, practically spat in their faces, and somehow no one was angry.

He shivered, and it had nothing to do with the chill.

--

Cloud’s little stunt had scared the hell out of them. It wasn’t that they didn’t care that he’d demolished Shinra property and made their job fending off the Turks much, much more difficult—they did—but when they’d started searching, they really had thought it would be a tiny, lifeless body they found. Any anger and frustration they might have felt paled in comparison to the sheer relief of finding him alive.

Sephiroth was the one watching him (hiding him, more or less), while Genesis and Angeal dealt with getting all of them back to the Tower in one piece. It wasn’t going to be easy, but Cloud was so little and this event just reinforced the fact that only SOLDIERs had any hope of containing him. Hopefully that would bolster their argument rather than encourage Science to get involved, because...well, forget what he and Genesis and Angeal would do to save the kid, Cloud himself would rip the whole department to shreds using only his teeth if they even tried to take him.

On some distant level, Sephiroth wondered how Cloud had managed to ensnare the three of them (and more SOLDIERs besides) so quickly. Or at all. Sephiroth wasn’t supposed to have a heart. He was supposed to be the pure paragon of SOLDIER, a soulless weapon forged only to mete out death. But here he was, holding a child safe in his arms and feeling his breath stutter every time he wondered what it would have been like to find a cold, unmoving body beneath that broken equipment.

Cloud was asleep, face milk-pale where it rested against the dark leather of his coat. He had proper blankets now, and Sephiroth’s own body heat besides. Angeal had been very clear about that—Cloud was not to be without a heat source until he was no longer anemic.

Not that Sephiroth would have willingly put him down. He found himself oddly agitated at the thought of not being able to feel the boy’s heartbeat beneath his palm. And, more than that...he felt unwilling to give up the strange, powerful contentment he felt just having Cloud safe in his arms.

“Seph?”

He startled a little, moving his eyes from Cloud’s face to find Genesis standing with one hand on the door frame, watching them with an unreadable expression. “...yes?” Sephiroth responded when Genesis didn’t continue. He realized that he had been shifting back and forth from foot to foot without noticing. When had that started?

“...you’re purring.”

What? He stopped—he stopped breathing entirely, actually. They’d told him about Cloud’s near-violent reaction to his own purring weeks before, but only now did he really understand. Because humans weren’t meant to be able to do that.

“Hey,” Genesis said quickly, crossing over to touch his arm, “stop. I know what you’re thinking.” His eyes were unusually gentle, maybe because he was riding the same relieved high Sephiroth was. “But...aren’t you glad Cloud isn’t alone?”

Aren’t you glad you’re not alone?

And he...was. He really was, once the thought was put to words. Cloud had been frightened by his own body and abilities, but he didn’t need to be anymore. Not when Sephiroth was with him. Neither of them were alone.

The rumbling started back up. He thoughtlessly leaned his head down and pressed his cheek to Cloud’s damp, unruly hair. The boy smelled like mako and blood and explosives. Sephiroth didn’t mind at all.

Genesis huffed a laugh, but it choked a little, and Sephiroth cracked an eye open inquisitively. “You’ve...you’ve never been injured enough or happy enough to do this before, have you?” he asked.

Oh. Was that it? He thought it might have been in response to Cloud, somehow, but...he really hadn’t ever felt such powerful relief and contentment until today, had he? Objectively, that was probably sad—that’s what Genesis’s expression was telling him. He didn’t much care though. There were more important things to think about.

So he just hummed noncommittally and gathered Cloud a little closer, shutting his eyes again. When Genesis huffed a second laugh, it was much lighter.

“So,” Genesis said, nudging him, “when is it my turn to play space heater?”

Sephiroth growled.

[kojinnie]

Give Up The Ghost | Levi Ackerman

Based on the request by @weepinglevi​ on my 24/7 Writing Event! I was gonna put them altogether but afraid it would be too long and jumbled. Thank you for the req and hope you’ll enjoy this one, love! ♥

levi ackerman; angst; 1055 words

Song to Listen: Give Up The Ghost by Radiohead

03.00: What is their recurring nightmare?

One of the most heart-wrenching things about Levi was how he’d realized that for years, he hadn’t had any good or even harmless absurd dreams that people often had. Each scenery that ever occurred in his dream was of bleak one, seeing his comrades shattered to pieces, and with it came the agonizing regret for not being able to save each one of them. For many years, Levi had gotten used to such horrible dreams that it had lost its ‘nightmare’ status. For Levi, it’s just something that he had to live for, no matter how it deepened the void in his heart.

However, there would be times, in which Levi was haunted by a persistent, recurring dream that gave him the deepest sadness upon waking up, which was odd, because Levi realized that those 'nightmares' did not have deaths, tragedies or maladies of some kind – rather they showed Levi all the things that could have been, if only he wasn’t lacking for his comrade. And it pained him terribly.

In those nightmares, Levi would be walking down the cobblestone street of one of the cities within the walls. People that passed him by would greet with a nod or a smile as they muttered, “Captain,” displaying their respect for all the things that Levi had fought for, for the sake of humanity within the Walls. The air was sweet, and the sound of joy was ringing around the city – it almost felt like a day of celebration. People would be laughing and singing, but Levi couldn’t understand why.

In these dreams, Levi would feel as if something was off, he could feel the strangeness in the way his joints and limbs moved, like he was walking with someone else’s body. Until he passed by a mirror that a street vendor was selling, and surprised to see the wrinkles on his face and how his black jet hair had grown grey and dull. Levi would continue to stroll down the street, and he’d walk into a tavern, full of sounds from clanking glasses, and erupting laughter. In the dreams, Levi thought, how odd that despite the fact that he wasn’t one for ruckus commotion and tavern, he felt such an ease coming into this one. The thought immediately came to an answer as he stepped in and saw the faces of his dear comrades – all had grown old, and the strength that Levi remembered in their physical appearances had been replaced by rather homely figures. Yet, their rigorous passion and courage was still visible in their eyes as they all shouted in unison upon Levi’s arrival, “Happy birthday, Captain Grumpy!” Levi would glance around and smiled, yet another strange thing because he knew he didn’t like birthday celebration, but in the dreams when years had passed by without death and sorrow… had Levi grown a space in his heart for warm celebration?

Coming towards him, Levi would see the once tall and rather monstrous Miche to have grown grey and slouchy, but the vigor still remained as he patted Levi firmly in the back, “Happy birthday, ‘Vi,” he said with haze in his eyes, obviously tipsy. Then there would be Oluo and Petra walking hand-in-hand as they gave Levi a nice, ribboned box. Levi had noticed that both of their ring fingers were adorned by the same set of rings, ‘They’re married,’ Levi came to a conclusion in his head as he thanked them. There were so many familiar faces that Levi could recognize and for once, Levi could remember them in a way he should be, not as lifeless, bloodied, corpses that had become Levi’s recognition of them for most of his life after their deaths. Levi knew at that point he was crying in his sleep, but he beseeched any deity not to wake him up just yet.

He’d walk to the wooden bar, where Erwin stood. He was no longer the young and fierce commander Levi remembered, but there was still a ray of commanding gaze emanating from the old man, he was clapping along with the others. Beside him was Moblit, leaning to the bar – what used to be lock of brown hair had gone completely, Levi could feel the urge to chuckle, thinking that babysitting Hange for so many years might have been the cause of his baldness. Once the happy birthday subsided, Levi looked for Hange, and he found them craning their neck over the swinging saloon door behind the bar stool, looking and yelling to someone in the kitchen, “Oi quick! Shorty is here already!” with no recognition that Levi was just a throw away from them.

“Hange, I’m already here—” Levi’s words were cut-off with the saloon door swinging open, and everyone suddenly erupted to yet another happy birthday anthem. Two figures he had missed so dearly came out of the kitchen with two-tier birthday cake in their hand – smiling, grinning, they were shouting merriness of life to Levi – something that got Levi reminded that this was only a dream, because he knew he could never see those two faces again in his life, “Farlan. Isabel.”

The Captain smiled and blew the candles on the cake, he looked again at his two friends, ‘Odd,’ he muttered to himself as he realized that both Farlan and Isabel were still as young as they were, while the rest of the Corps had withered with age. ‘Ah,’ as realization swept through him, Levi nodded, he finally understood that dreams were projection of what he wished had happened. While this painful dream reminded him of all the lives he couldn’t save, he had also wished that the youthful passion of both Farlan and Isabel to live forever in his heart.

Captain Levi Ackerman finally woke up, with pools of tears on his pillow. Heart throbbing in pain, he drank his water by the bedside and straightened himself up. Getting ready for yet another day in the warfare without his most-treasured comrades fighting by his side. Levi hated these dreams, whenever it occurred, he always wished he had a bad dream instead, with deaths and wars, something he was more familiar with, instead of the dream he just had, because that dream – one where he got to see how life would be if he was stronger and smarter to save them all – was too beautiful and yet impossible to live.

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

Hey, wonderful Yiga Scribe!! Wondering if you could treat us to the boys having some sleepy morning sex? If Sooga initiates it all romantic-like, the better :3

Oh that's ABSOLUTELY adorable. Let's do it!

Sooga still wasn't used to sleeping. Used to being unconscious, used to being so vulnerable for so long. He almost hated it. But there was ONE thing that made the unsettling feeling bearable. Master Kohga. He was the first thing he saw once he awoke, and it made all unease go away, like muck being washed away by the purest water. He looked so pure in his arms, his bare body felt so soft in his own. He couldn't resist leaning down to peck at his cheek.

"You're so beautiful...so wonderful. So precious to me."

He wasn't even awake just yet. Supposed it WAS a bit early for him. He should leave him alone. But...well. Man was always selfish in the face of beauty. He kissed at his cheek, his shoulder, his chin. Right till Kohga groggily woke up. One would assume he was grumpy, but Kohga was just chuckling, letting himself be kissed by this wall of a man.

"Hey hey, knock it off….idiot, I'm trying to sleep here."

"I'm not hearing 'command', so I'm afraid I cannot obey. So sorry."

"No you’re not!"

"Good point."

They BOTH chuckled at that, with Kohga accepting the assaults of affection. Kohga was half asleep, and the dreary look on his face really stole Sooga's poor heart.

"Master Kohga? I'd...like to ask your permission for something."

"If it's getting up to work, permission denied."

"No no, I...I don't want to work. I...would like to make love to you, please."

Kohga groaned, putting his hand on Sooga’s face.

"I don't wanna do any work, Sooga. We do it, imma just be laying here the whole time like a doll."

Like a doll. The fact that notion made him harder was perplexing. He kissed alongside his shoulder, down his arm, right down to those soft, nimble fingers.

"I have no qualms. If you do not want me, that is a different story. If it's an issue on labor...I can assure you, I'll pull my weight."

Kohga chuckled, shaking his head as he stretched, then settled again.

"Alright, alright. Get your kicks, pretty boy."

Sooga didn’t hesitate to softly massage his ass in his hand, all while his lips kept smooching his Master so affectionately.

"Sleep all you'd like, my Master. I will enjoy you, and all you have to offer. My precious doll…"

He liked that. Something pretty, something precious, to be in his arms forever. Kohga, half asleep, chuckled as Sooga’s boner rubbed against his ass.

"Mmm...for someone who wants their cock in my ass, you’re kinda sweet."

"I try."

He chuckled. He rubbed the head of his cock against his ass, nudging it until it slowly pushed itself into his ass. Sooga moaned a swear under his breath, slowly rolling his hips into Kohga, all while he was rubbing that big, precious belly. So soft, so warm, so tight around him. Sooga kept moving at a slow ish pace, hands kneading and palming at that soft stomach.

"I like your stomach."

"Ah ah ah. Right name."

"...poochy tummy. I like your poochy tummy."

Kohga chuckled, not doing a DAMN thing but sitting there and looking pretty.

"How much stupid shit would you say for me?"

"I hate that I know where this is going. But, anything you wish to hear, I'll say it."

Kohga chuckled, scratching his mane of pretty hair.

"Say 'I like your tummy wummy, Master Kohga'."

"...I like your tummy wummy, Master Kohga."

Kohga chuckled, getting a kick out of this, clearly.

"Say 'your belly is perfect for my cummies'"

"For the love of-your belly is perfect for my...c-cummies."

"You're so stupid."

"You're so stupid."

"I didn't say repeat!"

Kohga huffed, lightly slapping Sooga’s smug face. It was such cute, playful banter, and Sooga’s cock was THROBBING. It was so cute, so romantic, so precious, Sooga wanted to stuff him like a cream puff. Kohga grumbled a bit, pretending to be angry.

"Cheeky bastard. Alright, smart ass, let's get you saying something I think you'd like. Say 'my cock is throbbing'. But do it in that voice I like."

"...voice?"

"Yeah, the sexy one!"

"I have a sexy voice?"

Kohga turned to look at him, clearly gobsmacked, before lightly sighing.

"Just...shut the hell up and give me some tongue, boy."

Sooga obeyed, pressing his lips against his, and slowly, sensually caressing the other's tongue with his own. The way he moaned into his mouth, the way he purred for more. It was too much for Sooga.

"I'm g-gonna...c-can I finish-"

"Go ahead, in my ass is totally fine."

Sooga swore up quite the storm, lost in the sweet, tender lust. It was but mere moments before he came, shoving his load right into Kohga's ass. Kohga chuckled, moving his ass back and forth, smearing the cum all over that sensitive cock.

"Thank...you. I REALLY like doing that with you."

"I can tell, you got a decent load in, big boy. You good enough to go back to sleep?"

Sooga nodded, burying his face in his neck, and sighing oh so lovingly.

"You're so wonderful. My little doll. My precious, sweet-"

"Sleep, dumbass."

"Yes, Master Kohga."

His precious doll. He loved him oh so terribly much.

[mordoriscalling]

Homecoming

(A follow-up to my fic “Stay or Sail Away”, which is available on AO3 or here on tumblr). Jaskier sees Geralt for the first time after many months of Geralt's final deployment. It breaks his brain and dooms his heart. (Not that it isn't doomed anyway).

You can find this story on AO3 too.

The large crowd around them is full of noises: exclamations full of joy and relief, voices raised in excitement, loud calls of many names, hushed whispers and choked sobs. Small groups of people rejoice as they greet their loved ones returning from the long deployment while others still wait, their impatience almost buzzing in the air.

Jaskier stands amidst all the chaos, slightly dazed. He’s quite sure he has never witnessed such magnitude of sheer emotion ever before in his life, even during his own concerts. Motion, tears and happiness are everywhere around, mingling with smiles and embraces, which creates a certain feel that is just so deeply touching – it strikes the very core of it means to be human, Jaskier thinks as he tries to memorize it. Weren’t he distracted by other thoughts, he would write down the words in his head right away; the moment is more than worthy of a song.

He’s restless, anticipation and anxiety both twisting his gut. The wait drags on and on, torturously so, while the crew keeps disembarking. Rationally, Jaskier understands why this is taking so long – the ship (a destroyer, Ciri explained) is pretty damn big, so the crew is obviously large as well. However, reason is now more out of his reach than usual, which equals considerably far away, and he fidgets. Cirilla at his left isn’t still either, but her movements show only excitement. Yennefer at his right just stands in place, seemingly unaffected, her dazzling eyes observing the top of the platform steadily. Jaskier lets out a shaky breath, envying her the confidence a bit.

Ciri must’ve sensed his distress because she grins up at him and reassures, “Don’t worry, Jaskier, dad is coming. He just always deboards last.”

Jaskier nods with a bit of a forced smile but says nothing. Yen glances at him but appears to withhold a comment about his uncharacteristic silence. Normally he would boast that Geralt’s dearest witch of an ex-wife is growing soft on him but nervousness constricts his throat too much.

The problem is, the things he’s afraid of make little sense. He has evidence to disprove his fears, and lots of it; every video call with Geralt showed him as much. Throughout the goddamned eleven months of Geralt’s deployment, may they ever be cursed, the two of them always arranged a video call at least once a week. Jaskier was busy with a tour and Geralt had a lot of duties, but they both made an effort. The video calls quickly turned into a precious time that allowed them to get to know each other better – the few weeks of knowing each other in person before the deployment weren’t enough to keep their resolve alive – and Jaskier found himself falling in love so fast it was foolish even to himself. His silly heart was defenceless against Geralt’s caring nature, dry humour and sharp wit, though. He wrote Geralt a song only a month after his departure. Others quickly followed the first one. After he sent each recording to Geralt, the man would thank Jaskier so very earnestly during a video call. The “thank you, siren” murmured with those searing eyes looking at him had Jaskier fucking swooning every time. Geralt’s words fuelled Jaskier’s creativity even more and, at this point, he has enough songs for a whole album that should probably be titled “Lovesickness, Pining and Longing: Please Don’t Fall for A Sailor”.

And yet, for all their bonding over conversations, the growing repertoire of inner jokes and shared stories, the very satisfying and never-too frequent phone sex, the warmth in Geralt’s gaze and his reassurances with actual words that “I want this, Jaskier”, Jaskier still doubts. As he waits among the bustling crowd, awful what-ifs keep replaying in his head: what if Geralt has, in fact, changed his mind? What if Jaskier only dreamed the fondness? What if Geralt leaves him after he discovers all Jaskier’s flaws? What if –

“Dad!” Ciri shouts at the top of her lungs.

Jaskier winces at the deafening shriek (Cirilla has quite a set of lungs). When he looks up, he... oh.

There Geralt is, beautiful like a vision from Jaskier's dreams. He descends from the platform a step behind two other men, no one else following him. Geralt carries big bags in both his hands as if they weighed nothing, and Jaskier almost cries because of the sweet relief and heady joy of actually seeing him. Geralt isn’t wearing the ceremonial uniform that Jaskier knows from his Facebook profile picture. Instead, it’s the uniform for general duties. The black trousers and the navy jersey with shoulder pads hug his body beautifully. A white collar and a bit of a black tie peek out from under the pullover, and the white cap on his head looks criminally good on him. Jaskier knows that he's probably one of the most thirsty people on the planet but this, the sight of Geralt wearing all that, leaving a huge ship with a crew more than a hundred people strong that he commanded for almost a year, takes his libido to a whole another level.

There’s nothing like discovering you have a competence kink as you stand between a certain very competent person’s daughter and ex-wife, Jaskier thinks.

Since his brain is broken, Jaskier can only wait and stare, drinking in the sight of him. It soothes the powerful, throbbing ache in his heart after so many months without Geralt. Jaskier watches him reach the bottom of the platform, where he’s stopped by the two men walking before him. They salute him, then start clapping. Suddenly, all the members of the crew scattered in the crowd break into cheers and applause.

“Why are they clapping?” Jaskier asks, bemused.

“I think they’re thanking him for his service,” Yennefer replies as she claps too, a rare warm smile lighting up her face.

Jaskier and Ciri immediately join the cheering as loudly as they can (and they do make a lot of noise, considering that he's a singer and Cirilla has the ability her voice into a megaphone). Jaskier has to fight down a laugh as he applauds; from a short distance away that the platform is, he can see Geralt’s grumpy expression. It's so endearing because it's so Geralt - he isn't the type of man to be happy with this kind of recognition.

When the cheers finally die down, Geralt nods in thanks and a few moments later, his feet finally touch land. As if on cue, Cirilla darts off, making her way through the crowd with what seems to be practised ease. The people standing around him and Yen obscure the view but Jaskier can clearly imagine what’s happening: Ciri calling for her father until she sees him, him opening his arms for her, her rushing to his side, the two hugging tight.

It takes a few minutes for Ciri to bring Geralt to them. When the man appears, Jaskier’s does shed a tear this time. Eleven fucking months and Geralt is here finally, ending the nightmare of such a long wait. The endless, empty, hopeless days filled with longing and worry are over - Geralt is back for good. Jaskier wants to hold him and never let go again, but it’s Yennefer who gets to go to him first. She has every right to it, after all, as Ciri’s mother and Geralt’s former spouse. Yen strides towards Ciri and Geralt, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. The people around observe the commander with his family as the three talk with smiles on their faces.

Jaskier looks at them, too, and wonders, not for the first time, if he has any place in this beautiful family at all. Two gorgeous parents and a lovely teenage daughter – where would he fit?

(Now that he looks at Geralt and Yennefer, his raging bisexual soul wails in want and utter confusion over which one of them he finds hotter).

Then, Geralt’s sun-like eyes are on him, and all is silent. Time slows down as Jaskier sees Geralt walk up to him until they’re not even a foot apart. Jaskier doesn’t touch him even though he so wants to, too afraid he’ll find this is all a dream. He takes in all of Geralt's wrinkles, his slight stubble, the cleft oh his chin, and more tears escape. When Jaskier looks back into his eyes, Geralt's gaze is burning with so much emotion reflecting his own that all the air is knocked out of his lungs.

“Hey,” he greets Geralt breathlessly.

There’s a tiny, precious smile on Geralt’s lips, and his eyes crinkle at the corners in the way that Jaskier adores. “Hey, my siren,” he replies in a murmur.

At the nickname, warmth blooms in Jaskier’s chest and his tears start flowing freely. “I see you answered my call at last, sailor,” he teases, grinning and crying simultaneously like a mess he is.

Geralt huffs a little laugh, then reaches out and brushes his knuckles against Jaskier’s tear-stained cheek. Jaskier almost falls apart at the contact - it proves this is real. Quickly grabbing Geralt’s hand with both his own, he steadies it so that it keeps touching his face, grounding him. Geralt starts brushing his thumb over his skin and Jaskier has to close his eyes, overwhelmed, breathing in and out. So many words are at the tip of his tongue that he says nothing.

“Yes,” Geralt answers. The low, husky rumble of his voice reaches Jaskier’s ears, enveloping him like a warm blanket. “Now I’m home.”

[ivarswickedqueen]

Happy Birthday Alice ❤

I noticed that today is a birthday of my lovely friend @alicedopey​ so I decided to quickly write something for her with her favorite Peter Franzén 😁 I hope you like it love and happy birthday 😊😊

 Later that day

„Welcome to Dublin, Y/N,“ Peter smiled and hugged his PR manager Y/N, who just stepped out of the airport terminal.

„Hi, Peter,“ she smiled politely and hugged him back. She worked with many actors and singers from Finland, but Peter was always her favorite. He wasn’t just her client, he was also her close friend. It was difficult, because she lived in France and he lived in Dublin now, but they found the way how to make everything work.

„So tell me Peter, why I am here? Are you in trouble?” she asked and smiled as the chilly Irish breeze hit her face.

„No, Y/N. That’s not the reason, why you are here,“ he said and sounded slightly offended.

„I spoke with your boss and he told me, that he don’t need you at this moment, so I decided to invite you here for a little vacation,“ he said shyly and scratched the back of his neck nervously. He wasn’t sure how she will react. She didn’t like surprises.

„But Peter, I’m really busy. I can’t leave everything behind and relax on vacation“ she protested.

„Yes, you can Y/N. You need vacation. You work 7 days a week. You deserve this. Please, just stay here for one week.“ Peter begged again, taking her hand in his, looking at her with his best puppy dog eye look.

„OK“. she finally gave up.

„But under one condition. You’ll introduce me to Jasper Pääkkönen, “ she added dreamily and Peter rolled his eyes.

„Sure, no problem. I will introduce you, don’t worry.“ Peter agreed and help her with her heavy luggage.

„Hey Peter. What’s up. You sit here with your bottle of beer and you look like you want to kill someone.“ Alex H. asked his friend and sat next to him.

„I have no idea what are you talking about!“ Peter snapped and finished his beer.

„Suuure“ Alex laughed and patted his back.

„I actually know what’s wrong. You’re pissed, because Y/N’s talking with Jasper all night, “ Alex smirked and nudged Peter with his elbow.

„That’s not true!“ Peter protested quickly, but he clenched his teeth in annoyance, when he heard Y/N’s laughter - Jasper probably told her one of his funny fishing stories.

„Yeah, you don’t care at all” Alex smirked and nudged his friend again.

„Peter, you have to do something about this.“ Alex tried again to push Peter to do something about his crush on his manager.

„Like what?“ he groaned.

„It’s obvious that you like Y/N. So ask her out. Tell her you really want to be more than just her friend. Because between you and me, she is beautiful, smart, funny, independent woman and it’s a miracle, that she’s still single. Do it, before she’ll find someone else!“ Alex encouraged him.

„That’s not so easy, Alex.“ Peter retorted.

„Why not? She‘s over there. Ask her to the dance or something. It’s easy. Or invite her for a coffee, tomorrow. Damn it, Peter. You don’t need dating tips from me. You know how to talk with women better than me,“ Alex smiled softly and watched a beautiful costume assistant from the corner of his eye trying to find the courage to finally talk to her.

„This is different. I really care about her. She is my friend and she works for me. I don’t want to fuck this up. She is really important for me,“ Peter sighed and ordered another beer.

„Ok, buddy. It’s your decision. But I’m telling you - do something before it’s too late!“ Alex said and they both dropped the subject when Marco came to them with a plate full of sushi looking like a kid on a Christmas Eve.

Y/N joined them two hours later, but she was tired, so she only wanted to say good night and go back to her hotel room.

„I‘ll go with you“ Peter said and they both left the bar, leaving smirking Alex and Marco in the restaurant.

„Thank you,“ Y/N said simply and smiled at him.

„What for?  Your date with Jasper?“ Peter asked grumpily and Y/N laughed.

„It wasn’t a date. He is married, you silly, “ she shook her head and looked at him from under her lashes.

„Yeah, that’s not a disease, he can still date other women.“ Peter grumbled and didn’t look at her.

„What’s the matter with you tonight? I had a great time. Jasper is a funny guy. And he happens to be my favorite Finish actor. After you of course,“ she added quickly, when she saw his hurt face.

„I always wanted to meet him. And you should know, that I am not this kind of girl, who sleeps around with famous actors,“ she added angrily.

„Good night Peter,“ she shouted and closed the door in front of his nose.

„Great. Good job, Peter. You offended her,“ he thought to himself and entered his room, which was next to Y/N’s room and they shared a little kitchen. He couldn’t fall asleep. He had to think about Y/N. Alex was right. He needs to do something about this. The thought of Y/N being with another man was painful. He has to tell her about his feelings. There is a chance, that she feels the same. Alex was right, it’s weird that she was still single… He got up from his bed and decided that drinking a glass of milk would help him calm down and fall asleep. He walked into the kitchen and nearly bumped into Y/N, who was looking for something in the fridge.

„Having trouble sleeping?“ he asked softly, but she shrieked and jumped up.

„Holly hell, Peter! Don’t do this to me. I nearly had an heart-attack,“ she yelled and hit his shoulder, when she saw him laughing silently.

„That’s not funny,“ she pouted.

„I am so sorry, Y/N. But you should have seen your face. It was priceless,“ Peter laughed again.

„I am sorry, OK?“ he added softly, when he looked at her.

„And I am sorry for what I said earlier. I acted like an asshole. Please forgive me?“ he pleaded and hugged her. She sighed and buried her head into his chest.

„It’s fine. You are under a lot of pressure lately. It’s normal that you’re grumpy. You are shooting very exhausting scenes these days, don’t worry about it, Peter,“ she assured him and smiled softly at him.

„That’s true, but that’s not the only reason, why I snapped at you. I was jealous.“ He said and gently unwrapped her arms from his body, she looked up at him, confusion written over her beautiful face.

„I don’t understand this Peter, why were you jealous?“ she asked him clearly confused and Peter sighed desperately.

„I can’t do this anymore Y/N. I can’t deny what I feel. I am so sorry, but I have to do this,“ he said and leaned forward and kissed her lips softly. She looked at him in surprise, but didn’t push him away. Peter looked into her eyes asking for permission; she nodded and let him kiss her again. Their soft kissing continued for few minutes, when he pulled her closer to him and tugged at her bottom lip, she opened her mouth to let his tongue in. She wrapped her hands around his neck and deepened the kiss. His hands roamed up and down her sides, sending shivers down her spine. She wore only shirt and panties, so he felt her nipples harden against his chest. He tugged at the shirt – she took the hint and took it off. He stopped for a while as he took in her body.

„You look gorgeous, Y/N,“ he whispered and she blushed. Peter reattached their lips again and after long minutes full of slow kissing his lips followed a trail down her neck towards her breasts. He kissed and licked the soft skin of her breast, circling  her nipple with his tongue and gently bit it, earning a loud moan from her swollen lips.

„Peter…“ she moaned his name and he smirked and paid more attention to her hard nipple.

„Peter…“ she moaned again. He stopped kissing her breasts and she groaned in frustration.

„We should move this to the bedroom,“ he whispered to her ear and gently pushed her towards his room. She stopped in front of his bed and looked at him from under her long eyelashes. She looked so hot in the pale moon light. He had to keep staring at her. She was perfect.

“Are you planning to stay there all night?“ she teased him and pouted her lips at him. He shook his head no and finally got rid of his shirt. And now it was Y/N who stared at his toned body. Her mouth went dry. She licked her lips slowly and pulled him closer to her by his pants for another passionate kiss. She ran her hand down his muscular chest and stopped at the waistband of his sleeping pants. She hesitated for a second, but then her hand slipped inside. Peter moaned, when she cupped his cock and stroked it slowly.

„Oh my god, Y/N. You have no idea, what you’re doing to me,“ he whispered and his lips went on her neck, sucking it gently. She smirked devilishly and stroked his throbbing cock harder. Peter growled and threw her on the bed.

„Enough teasing Y/N,“ he got rid of her panties and his fingers found her heat, making sure that she is ready for him. He wanted to worship her body and take his time with her, but he couldn’t wait. He wanted her for so long and he couldn’t wait any longer. They will have enough time for slow love making later. He took a condom from his nightstand and rolled it on his hard cock. He looked deep into her kind eyes and entered her slowly. They both moaned when his entire length slipped inside her wet pussy. He started pounding into her slowly after few seconds giving her time to adjust to his big cock stretching her tight walls.

„Harder, Peter. Please. You’re right, no more teasing“ she begged him, feeling the same desperate need to feel him deeper inside her, closer to her than he ever was to her.

„Your wish is my command“ he smirked and started continuously pushing in and out of her. She rolled her eyes in pleasure and dug her nails into his shoulders. It didn’t take long and she was close to her release. He could feel it and reached between their bodies to touch her clit helping her over the edge.

„Peter!“ she moaned his name loudly, wrapping her legs around his waist, taking him even deeper inside her, kissing him deeply, looking at him with so much love in her eyes that he found his own release soon after her, growling deeply and falling on his soft sheets next to her, breathing heavily. When he finally caught his breath again, he rolled on his side and looked at her tired but smiley face.

“I probably should have asked you before all of this happened” he pointed between him and her, “but my dear Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?” he asked nervously and she didn’t answer but pulled him in for another long loving kiss.

[duker42]

💜Surprise💜

*****WARNING*****NSFW

Y/N giggles to herself as she looks in the mirror and adjusts the last strap. Perfect. She couldn’t wait to see the expression on his face when he sees her. Slipping her long trench coat on, she fastens it securely. Humming a happy tune, she slips out of her room and heads towards Captain Levi’s office.

Opening the door, she finds the office empty like she had expected. The busy Captain was currently locked in Commander Erwin’s office, finalizing the budget and planning the next expedition. Knowing that he should be back soon, she removes her boots and sits down in his office chair, turning to face the window while she waits.

~~~~~

Pinching the bridge of his nose as he walks down the hall, Levi sighs heavily. He hated the meetings he was forced to attend. Planning the expeditions was not the issue, but the damn budget? His main job was to kill Titans and lead his squad, not expensive how much toilet paper was needed to wipe asses. At least Erwin had chosen not to slash his tea budget. The taller man knew that without the calming brew, the trips to the infirmary would drastically increase for the cadets.

Stopping in the kitchen, he sets out his cup to steep. Idly waiting for the perfect brew, his thoughts wandered to Y/N. He had been neglecting her lately, not that she had voiced her complaints. No, she had been perfect, accepting his inattentiveness and leaving him to his work. The problem, his bed had been empty for the past week.

He never used his bed before starting a relationship with the vivacious girl. Sleeping in a chair for a few hours used to do the job. Y/N had broken him of that habit, making him see that laying wrapped up in her to be the better way to relax. The stress relieving activities before they fell asleep was a quickly addictive, happy bonus. Now, due to the damn workload he had dumped on him, he had been deprived of that luxury. He sorely missed it. Watching her walk out of his office after a goodnight kiss each night was beginning to grate on his nerves.

Finishing the tea, he made his way back to the office with determined grit. If he could finish the papers on his desk, he could free up the evening to spend with Y/N. Bolstered by that imagine, he opens the door to find that someone is sitting at his desk, facing the window to conceal their identity.

“Why the fuck are you in my chair? And why are you in my office?” His voice comes out low, menacing. Setting the tea on a side table, he takes a step into the office. Closing the door to prevent their escape, he takes another step towards the pending confrontation.

Turning around in the chair, Y/N faces the Captain. Watching his face change from annoyance to what would pass for happiness in the notoriously grumpy man was amusing to watch. His body relax as he realized it was his lover, come to spend time with him.

Pushing out of the chair, she stands and begins a slow measured walk towards the grey eyed handsome man. “You’ve been stressed lately, Levi. Let me help you relax.” She purrs as she toys with the belt of her coat, slowly pulling the loops free. His posture stiffens slightly as he gives her a confused look. Starting from the bottom, she begins to unbutton the coat. His breath catches, unsure of what is going on, but recognizing the slowly seductive movements.

She stops, just out of his reach as she slips the last button free. Slowly, she shrugs out of the garment and lets it pool at her feet.

He forgets to breathe. Forgets how to breathe, let alone that he needs to. His heart accelerates as he stares. Y/N stands bare before him, clad in only her ODM straps. The leather binding perfectly placed and tightened on her naked flesh. Her breasts pebbled in the cool air beneath the strap across her chest. Her femininity was slightly obscured beneath the leather skirt of the gear, but still bereft of protection. Her thighs and calves were accented by the cross strappings down to her feet. His mouth began to water as he reaches for her.

She saw his gaze turned predatory as he realized what she was wearing. He had grabbed her so fast she almost didn’t see him move. A hand behind her neck pulls her closer for a kiss as his other grips her ass, squeezing the flesh there. Groaning slightly, she fists her hands in his shirt, pulling him into her as she returns the attack on her mouth.

Walking her backwards, his mouth never leaves hers as he steers her towards the flat plane of his desk. When she bumps against it, he reaches behind her and clears the desk, papers and pens scattering across the floor in his haste. Lifting her onto the wooden surface, he spins her around as he darts to the chair she had vacated.

Gripping her ankles, Levi pulls her forward slowly until her feet rest on the arms of his chair and her ass hangs on the edge of his desk. Heavy lidded eyes roam, drinking in every curve and crevice exposed to him. Sliding his hands up and down her thighs, his fingers trace the straps, brushing the bare skin around them sensuously. Her hands begin to run through his onyx hair as a small sound catches in her throat.

Y/N spread open and waiting for him on his desk is bewitching. Levi knows he will never forget this image. Leaning back in his chair, his eyes darken with lust as he commands her. “Touch yourself.”

He watches as her eyes widen slightly and she whispers “Yes, Captain.” He had thought he was hard when she dropped the coat, but her submissive words sent a flash of heat straight to his groin. He shifts his seat, adjusting his cock to a comfortable position as he watches her. Laying back on one hand, her other starts at her neck, trailing down the smooth skin. Reaching her chest, she cups one breast, massaging the mass slowly. Reaching for the stiff peak, she rolls it between two fingers as she applies just enough pressure to make herself gasp. Levi notices the folds of her pussy begin to glisten as she continues to abuse the nipple. Leaving it red and swollen from her touch, she moves to the other, lavishing the same attention on it as her hips begin to jerk.

He realizes that Y/N could cum from nipple play as he watched her writhe. Filing the information away for later, he watches her fingers trail lower. A single digit circles her lips, lubing her finger with her juices. Dragging it up and down her folds, she moans quietly. Her noises make him throb as he strains against his trousers.

Reaching for his zipper, he releases himself from the confines as he watches Y/N continue to play. Her eyes devour him as he begins stroke himself, flashing with excitement as a drop of pre cum builds on the smooth tip. Working his cock slowly, he watches as she slips two fingers inside her pussy. He groans as her fingers slide in and out, sopping wet from her arousal.

Her pace increased, her fingers thrusting in and out faster as the pressure building inside of her is almost about to bust. Watching Levi attend to himself was making her hotter than she ever imagined. She closes her eyes as her legs begin to tremble and her throaty moans climb, signifying her release is moments away.

Levi pulls her hands away from her herself as he stands and buries himself in her in one smooth motion. She cries out, clamping down on his length as the feeling of him filling her triggers her orgasm. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over her as he rocks into her with hard thrusts.

He continued to pound into her as she rode out her orgasm. Pulling on her chest strap, he yanks her up against him. Swallowing her cries, he covers her mouth with his own in a passionate kiss. Gripping her hip, his thrusts get harder, go deeper as he chases his own release. When it breaks, his body tightens and he buries his head in her neck, growling as he empties himself into her.

Collapsing against her, he struggles to catch his breath. Savoring the moment, he feels her hands on him, softly running up and down his back. Shifting his weight off of her, he notices a lazy grin on her face.

“Did you enjoy your surprise, Captain?” Y/N smugly asks.

“Yes, fuck yes. I love your surprises.”

Mobile MasterList

[ikesengoficss]

tehehe i certainly can. As someone who is kinda like this, I should take my own advice I write, lol!! also, I do incorporate some French in this— my french is not very good, and I admit to using translator for some of it, if I’m not using what is said in the game. So please, if I say something wrong, whether it be spelling or m/f, please inform me!! <3

My favorite’s are Mozart, Theo and Jean. I can’t really chose one — I love that trio so much. But because Mozart was my first route (partially because the others do not have one) he has a very special place in my heart!~

I hope you enjoy!!! Please tell me your favorite!

Leonardo, Theo and St. Germain taking care of an MC who pretended to not be sick, but faints in front of them

Leonardo Da Vinci

He’s probably most likely to be convinced by your pretending. Not completely, but if you’re good at hiding it, he’ll probably believe it.

He doesn’t actually see you faint. Though you’ve been pretending to not be sick, successfully hiding that fact that as the days went on, keeping yourself upright was proving to be more and more difficult,

and your head pounded from the horrible headache, and throat throbbed, body on fire;

you let the facade you were holding crack just a little, so the moment he saw you clutching your head, he was swiftly going to the kitchen to get you water.

But he hears a thump, and Vincent happened to be in the room too was calling his name, and suddenly he feels sicks at just the sight of your crumpled body on the floor.

He’s rushing you back to his room and immediately has a doctor called. You have the flu, and he is incredibly frustrated that you tried to hide it from him,

and he’s incredibly frustrated with himself for not noticing sooner you were quite ill. However, he doesn’t let that frustration really show— he probably lets out his anger in his room, alone, kicking around the stuff on the ground.

He wants to help nurse you back to health. He’s very attentive to you, making sure you take the medicine given,

making sure you do not leave the bed. You need to rest your body, rest your mind. He may read you a story to help you fall asleep.

He loves you so much, so he won’t leave your side, even once you’ve fallen asleep, he’ll just be watching over you to make sure your condition doesn’t worsen and you’re alright.

Theodorus Van Gogh

There is really no hiding anything from Theo. It’s pretty obvious you are sick by how pale you are, the dark circles under your eyes and how croaky your voice is.

However, it’s up to you on whether you want to take care of yourself or not. If you want to continue to work, if anything, he will admire your resilience and determination to keep at your duties.

Even if deep down, he thinks its a little reckless, and even if deep down, he’s having to stop himself from flinging you over his shoulder and carrying you to bed himself.

Although, as a couple days pass and he notices just how terrible you look, he’s saying fuck it, he has to step in now.

Across the hall, he sees you and bellows, “Hondje, come here,” he commands, crooking his finger a little. Obediently, you walk towards him, but his heart drops when you suddenly sway, and he isn’t at your side fast enough to catch you before you collapse,

the sound of your head smacking against the ground seemingly echoing throughout the hall. He’s really kicking himself now.

He carries you back to his room, shushing you as you slur a bit trying to ask him what's going on; he has you tucked under the covers and dragging Arthur back to the room to look at you. He’s caressing your shoulder the entirety Arthur’s examining you.

Theo never leaves your side during your recovery as he helps to nurse you back to health. He’s incredibly grumpy and a little snide, but it’s because he cares.

“Reckless girl.”

“Don’t be so foolish next time. If you’re sick, don’t pretend to not be, that’s incredibly foolish.”

“Do you realize what it did to me when I saw you fall? I—hmph.”

You frown, weekly reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’m sorry, Theo. I really am.”

He sighs, holding your hand against his cheek, nestling into your warm touch. “No… don’t apologize. This is partially my fault, just— just please, take better care of yourself. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” he sort of mumbles that last part. lol

Comte de St. Germain

Like Theo, there is really no hiding anything — you can pretend all you want, but he knows you are sick. The only difference is he will put you to bed, and he won’t allow you to argue with him.

You are the love of his life, and in this era, a simple cold has claimed the lives of many, and there is no way he will allow sickness to take you from him. So please, do as your told and stay in bed.

However, if you were already going to pretend to not be sick, it’s no surprise, you’ll be a little stubborn and disobey him, getting out of bed.

“Don’t make me punish you, ma douce fille”

He’s about to scold you for getting out of bed but suddenly your face becomes more flushed, and your lids flicker before finally shutting,

and your body goes limp as he catches you just in time. He’s clutching you to his chest and shaking his head, his silly girl, what were you thinking, and heaves you up to bring you back to your room.

“W-what happened?”

“My dear, I’m afraid you are sicker than you realize. You collapsed out in the hall.”

You may feel a little bit embarrassed afterward, yet he assures you not to be, but just to please, please listen to him next time and stay in bed. “Please rest, ma plus chère.”

Le Comte is making sure you are as comfortable as possible. He dabs at your forehead with a cool cloth in hopes to bring down your fever. He helps you into your nightwear— if you want, he’ll let you even wear a shirt of his.

He emphasizes how important it is for you to wear socks to keep your body warm. he says if your feet are warm, your entire body will be.

He’s feeding you soup and helping you to take little sips of water to soothe your throat. He may not be able to be with you the entire time, so he’ll have someone check in on you every once in a while.

He is obviously not concerned about getting sick from you. He holds you extra tight at night, stroking your hair and pressing feather-light kisses to your (burning) forehead

~~~~~~~~

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[wondersofdreaming]

Lost Boys - THREE

Characters: August Walker / Captain Syverson / Walter Marshall

Word count: 2.389

Warnings: Family reunion. Memory overload. Realization. Hurt. Self-loading.

Author’s note: Everything in this story is a figment of my imagination, with inspiration and snippets from the movies ‘Mission: Impossible - Fallout’, ‘Sand Castle’, ‘Nomis/Night Hunter’. This is pure fanfiction. If something doesn’t make sense, it’s not supposed to.

I do now own any of the characters from the movies that I write about in this story. Only the OFC’s are mine.

Tag: @katerka88​ @littlefreya​ @hell1129-blog​ @radaofrivia​ @gothwhopper​ @fcgrizi​ @vania-marie​ @mary-ann84​ @sciapod​ @mitzwinchester​ @omgkatinka​ @mis-lil-red (your tag isn’t working 😢)

MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated. Seriously, please tell me all the good and bad stuff, else I won’t be able to develop into a better writer if I don’t know what I’m doing right and wrong. I swear I don’t bite.

[ONE] [TWO] [FOUR] [FIVE] [SIX] [SEVEN] [EIGHT] [NINE] [TEN]

Lucas was sent home to Georgia to heal. Joshua, the Syverson’s biological son, flew across the Atlantic Ocean to meet and bring him home. Silvia Syverson was a stern woman, and when she wanted her younger son to pick up her adoptive older son that is what she would get. His brother had been curious about what had happened, as a medical practitioner he was also compassionate and wanted to help in any way he could.

A 12-hour plane ride later Lucas was back in his childhood home, lying in his old bedroom filled with rock music posters. On his dresser sat an old boombox and next to it, a towering stack of CDs.

Silvia had demanded he got some rest. There he was. Staring at the ceiling like a good little boy. Fuck. He was a captain in the US Army. He had seen death and destruction enough to last two lifetimes, and he was still a little momma’s boy.

After dinner that evening, Lucas asked his mother for the things he had with him when he was sent to be fostered by them.

“Are you sure you want to rip up in the past?” Silvia asked him, her brows pushed together in concern.

“Ma, I need to know.”

She sighed and motioned for him to follow her. Joshua was right behind the two. All three entered the basement and towards the wall filled with stacks of boxes.

“One of them should be labelled Trevor Thompson.”

Lucas started lifting his uninjured arm to one of the top boxes, but a steely look from his mother made him back away and sit on the stairs.

“Joshua, come help your old mother,” Silvia commanded her younger son, who was snickering behind his older brother.

“There’s nothing old about you, ma,” the younger man said and kissed his mother’s cheek. He started taking box after box down. Of course, the box that belonged to Trevor Thompson was at the bottom of the pile.

It contained Trevor’s birth certificate, fostering papers, adoption papers, name changing papers, and a black photo album. Lucas opened it with one hand and a pair of blue eyes were staring right back at him. The same colour as his own haunted eyes. Beneath the photo was written ‘Jennifer Thompson’. The next page shocked him even more. ‘William Thompson’, Lucas was the spitting image of him, besides the eye colour. In his dream, his father was always too far away to get a close enough look besides some minuscule features.

“Wow, Luc, you look just like your dad,” Joshua exclaimed, “You even have the same freckle on your lower lip.”

“Josh, that is creepy as hell that you notice stuff like that,” Lucas looked at his brother with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m a doctor, I would be a terrible one, if I didn’t notice the little things. Now turn the page and let’s see those brothers of yours.”

Lucas sighed, preparing himself mentally to take a look at his biological brothers. Brothers he couldn’t remember until a week ago. They had shared a womb, so why the hell couldn’t he remember them?

Silvia noticed the change in her son. She put a hand on his good shoulder and squeezed. He looked into her green eyes that were giving him the confidence to face the past.

“Lucas, you were five years old. Don’t beat yourself up for not remembering.”

“I just have this feeling that we were so very close as children. I feel bad for forgetting them. They are my brothers. I’d do anything for my brothers, those in the army and even Josh.”

“Gee thanks, bro.”

Lucas chuckled and turned the page. Three identical young boys were smiling back at him. One of them had a front tooth missing. Probably himself. He couldn’t even see the difference between who was who in that picture. Only the names under each boy answered his question.

Trevor, Oliver and James.

“Aw, Luc, look at how innocent you looked once. Now you’re a grumpy old man with a beard,” Joshua was teasing him. Lucas ignored his little brother and looked at the next page, which was of the entire family sitting on a porch swing all together, laughing and smiling. The boys were smaller, maybe three years old at the time.

A sense of sadness washed over him. The flush of some childhood memories overwhelmed him. Lucas closed the book. He handed it back to his mother and walked away from the basement. Both mother and brother calling his name, he didn’t listen, just kept walking. He needed to be alone, to collect his thoughts. His mind was flooding with a million memories, his heart was racing, his legs just kept walking, until he was standing at the end of the driveway. He went into a sprint and ran as fast as he could to the beach, or as fast as his broken arm would allow him.

The beach was almost void of people. Only a few were out swimming or walking along the edge of the water. Lucas sat down and just let his mind wander. Letting all the memories in. His brain was throbbing, the feeling was like it wanted to escape from the cramped space of his skull.

Memories of smiles, laughter, love. He remembered the devastating feeling when two policemen came to the front door and told their neighbour, who had been watching over them, that their parents had died. A social worker, Marcy Kane, had taken care of the boys until they were divided into new families. He remembered a lot of yelling and screaming.

“They are only young boys. You shouldn’t separate them. They need each other!” Marcy roared at her boss.

“Nobody wants to take in three boys at the same time, so either you calm down, or you are off the case.”

The next he remembered was Marcy crouching in front of the three boys. They hadn’t said a word since the news of their parents’ death. They had vowed not to talk or be happy again without their parents.

“James, Oliver, Trevor. I’m sorry.” She started and hugged each boy in her warm embrace. It nearly made Trevor cry. As the eldest of three, he needed to stay strong for his brothers.

The families came and picked up each of the boys, separating them, forcing them apart from each other. Marcy put the medallion of Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton over each boy before they departed. None of the boys cried. They had made another pact, to find each other when they were old enough. A vow all three of them forgot as they grew up.

Now it was time to make that vow come true.

Lucas stood and brushed the sand from his well-shaped ass. With a clear mind, he walked home to get some sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

Joshua drove him to city hall. They released his papers but there was nothing hinting where his brothers had ended up.

Back home he called an old army buddy, Aiden, who had started a private detective company when he was released from the military. It took Aiden a few hours before he called back.

“Aiden, any news?” Lucas asked the minute he answered the phone.

“Yeah. I have some good and a whole mountain of bad, which one do you want first?” His friend told him.

“Give me the good ones. You found my brother? James?”

“I did. He was sent to live with a family in Minnesota. He’s still there. He changed his name to Walter Matthew Marshall, and guess what, he’s a police detective. He used to be S.W.A.T. and, dude, he has a daughter.”

“I have a niece?”

“Yes, congratulations Uncle Lucas. Are you ready for the bad news?”

“Hit me.”

“The brother, Oliver, you met in Iraq, he was moved to Virginia and changed his name to August Christopher Walker.”

“August? What the fuck kind of name is that? August is a month, not a name.”

“That’s not the worst part. Lucas, he was in the CIA.”

“He was definitely well trained. What else?”

“He rebelled.”

“What do you mean ‘rebelled’? What did he do?”

“Luc… your brother is wanted for planning to set off nuclear bombs around the world.”

Lucas nearly dropped his phone. His parents and brother were giving him worried looks. He went to sit down on the sofa before telling Aiden to continue.

“They thought he had died somewhere north of India, but they haven’t found his body. And there’s a warrant for his head from all the intelligence agencies around the globe.”

“How much?”

Nothing. Aiden kept his mouth shut.

“Aiden, tell me. How much?”

A heavy sigh could be heard through the speaker.

“A hundred.”

“A hundred what? Just a hundred? A hundred thousand? Spit it out, man.”

“A hundred million dollars. All the agencies want him gone, Lucas.”

“What does the warrant say? Dead or alive?”

“Both.”

Lucas groaned in frustration. What the hell had his brother done? Why had he done it? What happened to him?

“Thanks, Aiden. I really appreciate your help.”

“No problem. Call me if you need any help. Any kind of help.”

“Will do.”

Lucas pushed the end button and threw the phone on the coffee table. His mother came to sit next to him. She touched his left bicep, trying to comfort him without saying anything.

“What now?” Joshua asked and sat on his other side.

“I don’t know.”

“Son, look at me,” his adoptive father, John Syverson, was a rather large man himself. Don’t be fooled by his grey hair and grey beard, he might look like a nice old man, but he could kill people with a spoon. Lucas heard the authoritative tone in his general father’s voice and looked into the compassionate green eyes. “What are my rules?”

“Always be kind.” Joshua and Lucas said at the same time.

“Treat your woman like a queen,” Silvia chimed in.

“Don’t judge people based on the first look,” Joshua continued.

“Don’t do things to make other people happy, do them to make yourself happy,” Silvia smiled.

“And never leave a brother behind,” Lucas’ voice was firm. His mind was made up.

“I’ll book you a ticket to Minnesota.”

“Who’s going to Minnesota?” A soft female voice said from the hall. Four pair of eyes looked at the curvaceous woman entering the living room. The Syverson’s only daughter, who had been born a year after they had adopted Lucas. Her long curly brown hair was put up in a bun, her glasses sitting at the edge of her pretty little nose. She had her father’s deep green eyes.

“Melanie, darling, we didn’t know you were coming home,” Silvia exclaimed and went to hug her daughter.

“I heard through the grapevine that the captain was home, so I had to come home and say hello,” Melanie smirked at Lucas and squeezed his left side, avoiding his casted arm.

“Good to see you, shorty. How’s the University treating you?” Lucas asked and kissed his sister’s forehead. She went to get kisses and hugs from her other brother and father, before plumbing down with a huge sigh on the armchair.

“I love my job. I love that I can do research all day long, I never get tired of that, but lately…” She started.

“Lately, what?” Joshua gave his sister a quizzical look.

“Lately it’s been a bit boring. It’s too much of the same. I know it is what I signed up for when I accepted the job, but I was also promised more fieldwork, where I would be able to travel and study the texts, ceramics, and people up close, not from a computer where someone is streaming. So, I’m taking a sabbatical, one year where I figure out, if I still want to do desk research or if I need to find a job that is better suited for what I want and need.”

Silvia and John gave each other a look that only a married couple could give. They were communicating non-verbally. Lucas looked at his parents.

“No,” he said sternly. “Not in a million years.”

“You need someone to help you,” Silvia told her son in the same hard voice.

“I can take care of myself.”

“You’ll need help with the cast.”

“Josh can help me.”

“Sorry, bro. I have to be back at work on Monday.”

Lucas sighed and turned to the young woman, who had put her hair down. Her long curl cascading down her shoulder.

“Melanie, will you come with me to Minnesota?” He said through gritted teeth.

“Anything for you, Luc. What’s going on in Minnesota?”

“We’re going to find my brothers.”

Lucas had filled his sister in on his history. She had taken one look at all his documents and said she would figure out why in the world they had to be separated into three different states. They dropped their belongings off at a nearby hotel, walking to the precinct where Walter Marshall worked.

The secretary at the front desk didn’t even look up when they entered and just told them where to go.

“Hey Marshall, when did you break your arm? And I thought you said something ‘bout never wanting to cut your hair.” A young man, fresh from the police academy by the looks of it, was yelling from the other side of the room. He walked over and gave Melanie an appreciative look over. Lucas clenched his left hand into a fist; it wasn’t his dominant hand, but he could still break the little fucker’s nose.

“Hi, we’re looking for Walter Marshall, could you direct us to his office?” Melanie asked as she blinked a few times. Lucas smiled; he knew the look in her eyes. The charm-glare as he called it. That look that had gotten her out of trouble countless times.

“Well, miss, he’s right here,” he motioned at Lucas.

“Cade, get back to work or I’ll wring your neck,” a deep grumpy voice said behind them. Lucas turned around to look into another mirror version of himself. Walter Marshall was standing with his leg spread, his arms crossed over his broad chest, wearing a black jumper. His eyes widened as he looked at Lucas. “My office, now.”