#he called them honey and caramel

[sidetongue]

these two stayed the weekend, I named them Banana and Spongebob, and was very offended when the new carer changed it

[sugudoe]

☕️⌇ ◜ OFFICE HOURS ◞ ⠀⠀⠀

╰⠀boss!nanami x secretary!reader where . . . nanami kento can’t let people know the reality that he, under no circumstances, belongs to them. in fact, is quite the contrarie. everyone in this job is a puppet willingly letting him pull the strings. you more than anyone. after committing the bizarre mistake of telling nanami your true intentions with him, your boss is more than eager to comply your desires and just maybe, forget he first input of no belongings.

cw. too much swearing, fingering with others present (not caught), fem!reader, reader keeps daydreaming w. nanami, slightly age gap but non-important all legal, public sex, overstimulation, they both keep failing to hide, possessiveness, love bites, he slap her thigh once, bit of blood because of self lip biting 4.9k words, english is not my first language.

an. hi, hello, i want everyone to know i’m this man wife. this is, in fact, our love story, i used to serve his coffee, now i’m serving my puss— anyways, enjoy it. FYI nanami smells like either tom ford tobacco vanille or byredo bibliothèque.

There are certain events in the workplace ── a sequence, if you may ── that serves as a warning to everyone that Mr. Nanami Kento has arrived.

Not many months ago, you were clueless to the symphony of presentation he had, even before stepping into the room. Now, though, it’s engraved in your mind. Much like he is. It is, also, a dirty secret to have that you eagerly wait for it, everyday.

Halting the tack-tack of your fingers on the keyboard, your ears pick the first signal ── rushed footsteps. All opening space so he can pass without the need to raise his eyes, hidden by sunglasses, from his cellphone. The second is the whispers and swooning. Some, more brave than others, compliment him out loud. Always about his peculiar ties, and always he smiles back. Lastly, when Nanami is in your sight of view, he is accompanied by his signature scent that greets you before he even does.

The most raw way to describe his smell is by saying that you wish you could crack him open, and lay inside of him forever. It’s comfortable and addicting and it makes you want to kiss him until it can permanently fixates on you.

In more proper synonyms, Nanami Kento smells like caramel, wood and a bit smokey. He is hot to the touch, one can admit. You don’t fall far from these thoughts, but sometimes, when you are not eye-fucking your boss, you think he smells like a cozy cabin in the woods.

Perfect place to fuck him, though.

Is easy to imagine such a thing. You can picture him with thick sweat covering his body, like a second layer, as he comes inside with a hatchet and wood for the fireplace. And you can, also easily, imagine yourself on your knees sucking him so good, as way to thank him for keeping you warm.

It’s a Kento effect. Everywhere he passes, people tend to have a heat stroke. You are no better than the others. Probably worse. He, however, does not need to know that. Nanami’s plate is already filled to the brims with people gazing him as a snack, he doesn’t need his personal assistant to do the same.

Not in front of him, anyways.

So, when he comes near your table, and stop to take whatever you have for him (work related, honey, even when you wish it was your pussy), you present the calls he need to answer with a compliment for his shoes and a black coffee with pretzels.

He adores you.

You want to fuck him senseless.

A perfect imperfect balance of clashing feelings. His are professional, yours are not even close. He only steps over the boundaries when it’s to call you “Darling” and you only do so in your head, when you think of laying on his table and letting him feast on your dripping cunt.

He is gentle and caring.

You wouldn’t mind chanting his name loud enough for everyone to understand what’s happening.

He departs ways and you share a trembling sigh with your inner turmoil of emotions. He makes you have a constant fever. In fact, with him, everything is constant. You want to fuck him everyday, you touch yourself with his voice in your mind guiding you. He gets pretty out of character in your alone mind, though.

Real Nanami is a sweetheart. Your Nanami would make you cry while on his cock.

“── and the meeting room needs to be ready by eleven, you can do all that, darling?” He asks. He asks! He is talking with you.

“I, uh, I’m sorry, Mr. Kento,” You stutter before shifting your attention from your computer screen to his charming understandable smile. “could you repeat, please?”

“Sure, darling.”

You need to put extra neurons to work when eyeing his pink lips moving gracefully. Is it the same shade as his cock? Oh, you hoped so. That would be your favorite color, would paint your nails, your hair, anything.

“Got it now?” Nanami curls his lips as he question you. You can’t lie to him, so you sign that No, you did not payed attention. He chuckles and comes closer, resting both hands in fist on your table, letting himself down so he can be face to face with you. “I need you to order mine, yours and the lunch for the usual gentleman I talk about the finances, ── you have that noted, right?” You nod, and he proceeds. “Then, I want you to decorate the meeting room, the way you always do.” You nod again, and he moves back. You want to whine. “Good girl.”

Pause.

That’s new. It’s like achieving a new item in a game. A new level. That’s a prize, the greatest form of enlightenment one could have. You feel warm in your chest and cheeks, but dare not to sway your eyes from his twinkling ones. You wonder if he knows what you are thinking, or if he knows the power he has over you ── over everyone.

That’s Nanami Kento. The man with a dazzling aura, it touches all in proximity, no one survives him. If he wants, you are his. Hooked like a worm, willingly ready to be devoured by a fish, and the thing is no one knows if Nanami is said fish or the fisherman.

The secret about his success is not only the sweet talk he does, but the way he can easily take it away. And no one wants to be away from his warmth. You’ve seen it before, how he controls people ── some more powerful than your mind can comprehend, they all are puppets for him to pull the strings. He touches and praises them when they do what he wants, but Nanami grows cold and absent when they don’t.

Everyone wants to be loved by him, so everything this enterprise does, it revolves around Nanami.

He can be a scary man when he wants, and you’ve heard the tales, from time to time. With you, fortunately, he is just your nice boss. And a part of you wish he would cradle you into his arms and play with you like a marionete. His doll. Yeah, you want to be his fucking doll.

Tempted to ruin this lunch and be ravished by his famine, you shake your deranged thoughts and focus on ordering the food. Also asking for red velvet cookies for you and Mr. Gojo, the owner of this whole enterprise.

A cocky young man, that likes to devour your physique whenever you come inside the room. He is rich and beautiful and his name is always on the newspaper with gossip mostly involved. You could fall for him, could fuck him, but he is not Nanami.

He doesn’t boss you around gently, nor he makes you crave his scent on lonely nights. He makes you shy, but not timid and horny. In fact, you don’t even think about Satoru Gojo unless you are balancing his persona with Nanami’s. That’s sad for him.

You keep doing that ── the thoughts, the sexual dreams ── while preparing the meeting room with a charming decoration. Black glasses, black plates, all with golden details. Satoru Gojo himself payed for it, not that he knows or care. You commented once, Nanami liked, and moved his toys in favor of buying the expensive kitchen utensils you wanted. He even made sure to get some for your own house.

The last part is closing the thick black curtains around the room, for privacy. Someone comes inside the second you step back from the last tapestry, and when you turn, Nanami is there.

“How’s everything?” His fingers press on the table, moving swiftly with him, closer to you. “You’ve got cookies?” There is amusement in his question.

“Mr. Gojo’s secretary, Suguru, told me he was craving something sweet.” You turn back to the table behind you, stacking the sweet in a small mountain. “He always gets fussy if he doesn’t get his daily large intake of sugar.”

You grabbed one, knowing that half of it was rightfully yours, and twisted on your heels. Nanami scared you in two sequential situations after that. The first being his looming presence right in front of you, piercing gaze on you, shifting between your eyes. He was searching for something in it, so, you tried the hardest you could to give him something back. Eyes that said “please, fuck me.”

Maybe it worked. The next thing he did, that scared you, was bending down and biting your cookie. Eyes never leaving yours. You gulped, he smirked.

“Please, fuck me.”

He chocked.

See, your eyes were supposed to be the one speaking for you, but Nanami also has this super power that no one can lie to him. He wants something, he gets it delivered in a silver plate. He knows everyone’s secret, and yours were never safe, just happened to be hidden in a line of things that weren’t priority for him. Not until now, at least. He wanted to know what you were hiding, and you gave it to him.

“I ──” The words are struck behind your teeth. Nanami eagerly waits for them. “I’m so sorry.”

And with that, you leave him.

In a perfect world, he would have grabbed you by the wrists and fucked you against Satoru’s side of the table. But it’s not, because he lets you go. He has to let you go, even if you know that’s not the end of it. He will get you later, and like a little kid in science class, he will dissect everything you said. Therefore, during the thirty minutes of freedom you are granted in the bathroom, before the meeting starts, you try and fail and try and fail to conceal your thoughts into a perfect lie.

It doesn’t work. Not even a bit. Because Nanami knows you like the back of his hand, as much as he knows everyone that works with him. He knows when you lie and when you are truthful, and thanks to that, your work relationship had always been good ── you’ve never lied to him to stroke his ego. You were too busy wanting to stroke something else. Nanami let you slide your nasty comments about others, and he would share them, granting you some of their secrets.

He was a gossiper. He knew everything. You knew right there that lying would never work with him, so you just avoided to let him reach that horny part of yours that burned for him. Give him something else to sink his attention into. Your neck, you wanted, but rather you would feed him with gossips from your college classes, or what you got from Suguru Geto, your friend and Satoru’s assistant.

Now, you had already run out of distractions. Maybe that was his plan all along. If the world is correct, and it all falls down to Nanami’s desires, then maybe he was just waiting for you to crumble and admit. You had never been subtle with your eyes, anyway. That’s why he had been so fascinated about it, staring from time to time, trying to catch a glimpse of your true self, like a wishing star in a starry night.

The stars have gone dark, burned and busted away, when you come back to the meeting room and sit down on your designed chair, by his side. Nanami is focusing at you, again, like he needs more of your secrets at this moment. You have never gave him something so largue before, he is addicted.

But you, stubborn, appalled, stoic and all, think your plate of pasta is the most interesting thing in this whole world. You don’t eat much, because your throat is filled with all the words and screams you want to let out. You fear if you so much breathe loud, it will all come flooding this room.

“Are you annotating all of this in your head?” Nanami whispers in your ear, referring to the meeting now in progress. You sign no, and he sighs. “Your mind is far away, today.”

“Sorry.”

“What should I do with you?”

Someone coughs. An old man, standing by the edge of the table. He wants Nanami’s eyes on him, the praise, the goodness. Kento grants him half a smile, and that is not enough. Never will be. Everyone always wants more.

The lights are turned off when the projector is brought by Suguru, he comes and goes quickly, not before stealing a cookie from Satoru. That’s the first smile you present since the incident, and Nanami is back at staring at you with an intensity your heart fears but your pussy drips for. Are you scared? Petrified. And still, you are fucking horny.

He knows your secret, he is devoting his eyes to you, no matter what anyone else wants. He, in this moment, wants you. It might be because he needs to know what you meant, it might be because you are stroking his ego, finally. Or, you dare wonder, he is debating throwing you on that table and fucking you. Old men and Satoru aside, you wouldn’t mind. At all.

You take courage to look at him, and instantly you stare at his lips first, before his eyes. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. You go back at eyeing the projector. He does the same a long beat later. An even longer one, he slowly puts his hand on your exposed thigh, skirt raised since you set down.

You try to not fail in your stoic face, but you do so anyway. Because, for fuck’s sake, Nanami Kento has his hands on your thigh, his thumb in circular movements. Your lips instinctively curl up, he snorts by your side before going back to his serious demeanor.

You thought he would just keep his hands there, as if testing the water but deciding to stay near the shore. That’s not his case, though. Nanami loves to go to the beach, to swim far away beyond the waves, he likes to get damped. His hand move closer, and you open your legs absentmindedly. He wants, you give. As much as you have wanted, and now he is giving you.

When his hands are pressing against your lacy underwear, you hear a little “Fuck” coming from his mouth. You’re soaking wet.

It’s hard to keep your breathing pattern steady when he is near you. Even more harder when he has one finger slowly penetrating you. For the outsider viewer, everything is normal, and the two of you are just concentrated on the projector screen. The truth is you have no idea what’s going on, and maybe neither does him. You want to moan, and tug his hair until he groans. And you want him to replace his finger with his cock. You stare at the annotation book, empty of your handwriting, and use the opportunity of your head down to hang your mouth open and close your eyes.

Nanami shifts his eyes to you, and he drowns himself into your fucked gaze, even more so when he puts another finger. He can’t linger much, or others will notice, so he decides to keep his movements fluid and calm, and to stare at you from time to time.

He can multitask. Of-fucking-course. He asks questions, answers, he acts as if he is one hundred percent into whatever is going on. The reality is different. The truth is all about his curling fingers pressing themselves in a place inside you that will forever mark his presence there. Like a secret plaything only for him, no one, not even you, will ever reach that. It’s like he is signing it with either his name only or a “Nanami was here.”

You want him to stay, forever. Stay inside you, slow pacing, curling, sensitive.

He can’t, because what feels like hours later, turns into minutes. Everyone is raising up to leave, and he moves out of you so fast, you clench around nothing ── had you been quicker, grabbed his fingers, they all would know. You don’t give a fuck, you want them too know.

“Go to my office.” He whispers before going the opposite direction of the exit, and staying back to talk with the others. You walk without a goodbye, creating an excuse when Satoru wants some of your time.

Inside his office, you feel like breathing for the first time. It’s confusing, like your lungs are new and not fully connected to your esophagus, so it comes up weird ── in a mixture of laugh and relief, salted with a “what the actual fuck”.

You want to stop and think of what’s happening or what’s to happen, but you never had the chance. It’s a second later, and you are being pressed against his, now, locked door. His arms holding your hips, his head resting on your neck, sulking your scent much like you do with his.

“You meant it, right?” He asks, bringing his face up to yours. “You want me to fuck you. Please, darling, say you do, because I need to fuck you now, or I’ll go crazy.”

“Yes, please, please.” Midway through your desperate nod, Nanami lunged at you, catching your lips in his and conducting the rhythm, the strength.

He was so, so good. In all ways. His slow fingers had your legs shaking and his eager kiss has your mind fogged. All that he does seems to be professional, but you know deep down, this effect is all because is made by him. Just his presence alone could have you hot and bothered, but to actually be touched by him, it’s like adding the fire to your gasoline self.

You had always been meant to be burned by Nanami.

He hoist you up against the door, for a quick second his hands kept clawing your thighs, until he walked you both to his desk. He let you down on it, and at the same time, his kisses moved to your neck and shoulder. You could feel the scrape of his teeth, tempted to mark you with a significant bite ── tell them I’m yours, you thought.

He groaned against your flustered skin, because he knew he couldn’t do that. Mark you, that’s it. Fuck you? Oh, that he can, that he will do.

“I need you to be really quiet for me.” His hands are quick on his belt, dropping it with a thud against the floor. He raises your skirt to your waist, Nanami grumbled under his breath with the sight of your underwear. He had touched the elaborate details earlier, but to see it was another story. White, see through, a pink ribbon on the top. “I’m going to rip it.”

“No, you’re not!” Raising your leg, you pushed him away. Eyes still hypnotized by your clothed cunt. You removed the piece with a satisfied smirk. It had been months since you started to wear those type of under-wears, hoping one day this situation would come.

No one wants to fuck their sexy boss with granny’s pants.

The cold table coming in contact with your intimacy made you moan a bit, and Nanami’s attention was back on you. There you were, beautifully waiting for him. Fuck-me eyes, pleading mouth, hands gripping the edge of the desk. You were at his mercy, had been for a while now. And he? Well, Nanami was yours now, that’s what matter.

One of his fingers, the same one he had penetrated you earlier, came back inside you. Smearing itself with your wetness. His other hand gripped your hips, bringing you closer, and making him go deeper. There, right fucking there. He curled, and thrusted, and another two more out of nowhere.

Cruelty was not on the way he was ravishing your cunt, but the biting of your teeth on your hand. You have to be quiet, follow his orders, but Nanami seemed to want to make you scream. Let everyone know that he is fucking you. Nearly fucking you.

Combining this movements with the ones of earlier, you feel your insides getting tighter. He senses as well, and raises his peace once more. But, again, your legs push him away. Nanami doesn’t like that, he comes back quick, wet fingers anxious to reclaim their place inside you, but you sign no, and he halts. That’s it. The man that controls everyone, and he is at your mercy.

“I want to cum on your cock.” Maybe is the sweet and diabolical way you say, or the tilting of your head with a charming smile. What matters is, he complies right away. His pants fall, he takes off his blazer, and not a second later you are presented with what you’ve been craving for months.

Like a pregnant lady, you almost cry and fall on your knees, finally having your desire attended. He doesn’t want that either, instead Nanami takes a condom from his wallet. Before he puts it, his waiting fingers touch your cunt again, grabbing a bit of your liquid and smearing it on himself. You nearly ask him to throw the condom away.

Is a sinful sight. All of this. You on the desk, legs wide open. He in front of you, adjusting himself on the condom. Both groaning when he, fucking finally, align with your entrance, and slowly gets in. He is largue, and thick, and preparation might have been necessary had you not been daydreaming of this moments months ago.

Had he not been himself, that man that makes you drip with just a “good morning”, this might have hurt. Instead, it’s exhilarating to be parted by his cock. The condom does not stop you from feeling his veins tickling your walls, or his tip finally setting near your cervix. That was fucking new. Pleasant and scary, and fucking welcome as well.

“Say it again,” He asks, hands on both your hips and eyes looking over yours. Waiting for the stars to fall over the two of you. “tell me to fuck you.”

“Fuck m──” He doesn’t wait for you to end before he removes himself, and going back with a gushing sound. You nearly scream out of pleasure, but in the last second, you bite your lips strong enough to draw some blood. “Mmh, you fucking a-asshole.” He snorts at that, before slapping your thigh.

Seems that Nanami can do all the noises he wants. He groans against your skin, head hanging low to stare at the way you pussy suck his dick in and out. You have always been a good girl ── his good girl. Taking all the he gave you. Mostly work related, and now his cock. You truly were made just for him.

“You feel so fucking good, baby.” A moan scapes your hands, and he doesn’t bother spanking your leg again. He called you baby, and you’re strangling his dick perfectly. You can shout at this point, he is pussy fucked.

Removing your hands from your mouth, you decide to do something much better than guarding your pleasure. Instead, you open his button-up blue shirt. A dream come through, is what this day will be remembered as. Specially now, where he lets you do as you pleases, and you have the sight of his pecks ── bronzed from a beach trip he took last week, and glistening with sweat for your recent activities. You moaned again, before going for it, and marking him.

Nanami allowed you to do so. He only cared about holding your hips and raise your lower body, so he could make you meet his thrusts halfway. He didn’t hold a care in the world about his groaning getting louder, or the burning on his neck and chest caused by your eager mouth and teeth. Fuck that. Fuck everyone. The only thing he truly wanted was to be inside of you forever. To be planted in this moment of his life, on loop, being marked by you, having his cock milked out by your dripping cunt. That’s what his life was made for.

Nanami Kento had this aura that made everyone scramble for him and his left-overs, as a way to keep close. To say they have something that once was his. Because everyone knew that Nanami was no one’s property. This moment, this fuck, this pussy proved that statement to be contraire ── he was yours. From the first day he saw you and specially one hour ago, when he had eaten your cookie and you told him to fuck you. He knew right then that he would shift the whole balance of the world to give you what you want.

And if that’s his aching cock, fucking be it. It’s yours. You’re taking it so good, and barely paying attention to it. He keeps bruising your cervix, and you respond with little whimpers and more bites. He quicken his peace, you close your legs around his waist, as if giving him more opening.

A perfect synchrony.

“Wan’ to cum.” You mumble just right after he senses your wall get tight.

“C’mon, baby, ugh, cum f’me.”

“Mmh, fuck, ngha.”

You do right after, going limp on his arms, he slow his thrusting with a snort and laying you down on the desk. He shuffles something by your dazed-self side, before he brings a black sharpie near your cleavage. He kisses and licks and sucks on it, before opening the pen with his mouth, and signing a straight line.

“How many more can you give me, pretty?” You don’t answer in words, but with more quiet whimpers, when his thrusts go back to pounding you in a maniac pace. He holds your neck down, leaning to kiss you through your beautiful moans.

You’re sensitive, he knows. Because you keep closing more and more around his length, trying to make him cum, unknown to you that it only makes you closer to coming again. You hit your head on the desk when trying to follow his departed lips, Nanami has your neck again on his mouth, tasting your sweat and lotion, and all you can give him. It’s only when he bites it slightly, you release yourself once more.

“Mmph, fuck, fuck, argh.”

Nanami keeps jerking his hips onto yours, not even having cum once. He takes pleasure in yours, you can see. With a proud smirk, he grabs the sharpie once more, but this time, he makes a diagonal line that touches the top of the first.

“Mhm──!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, baby. Just a bit more.” He cooed at you, sweet tone diverging from his animalistic movements.

You’re not complaining, not even regretting. So you keep yourself down and let Nanami control both of yours fun. He is ruthless in his pace and fantastic with his kisses, he doesn’t mind your moaning anymore, or the fact that everyone on your floor already knows. What can they do? Stop you? Nanami will rip everyone apart and just return to your pussy. Threaten him? No one would dare. He is still their sweetheart, their most sacred prize, beautiful and shinning to look at. Never to have.

“I’m, ugh, I’m yours.” He grunts.

This time, you sense a shift in his thrusts. So methodical now sloppy, and his cock kept twitching inside of you, sending more waves of pleasure to your core. Yes, fucking finally, he was near.

“All fucking m──mine.” You agreed with his words, grabbing the back of his neck and slamming your lips together. “I’m yours, always had been.”

Nanami can’t even control himself anymore. He groans and pants as he releases himself inside you. With a mist of swearing and praises you could barely decipher. After all, his own release had triggered yours.

When you both had come back from the high, Nanami raised himself from your chest, and kissed you, tongues intertwining, teeth clashing and biting. When he parted, leaving you breathless, he had then pen in his hand again. It touched your skin, once more, connecting from the bottom of his last line, going up straight.

It’s a “N”.

“You think we can spell my name?” He asks, leaving your inside to throw his condom out. He opens a drawer, where a box with more is presented.

“That would be more 17 fucks.” You support your weight on your elbows while counting.

“It’s that a no?”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up your throat, before beckoning him closer. He does right away, kissing you hungrily once more. As if he is trying to record forever the taste of your mouth. He has your hair in his fists, pushing it back so he can go back to your, now, heavily marked neck.

“Let’s see how far can we go.” You indulge into his crazy erotic idea.

Nanami smiles triumphantly. He removes himself from your body, but doesn’t put condoms, instead, he falls on his knees, diving straight for your pussy.

Hours later, the sun beginning to set on the horizon, you leave his locked office with a smug smirk and timid eyes. Both accompanied by messy hair, flushed cheeks, marked neck and… “Nana” written on your chest.

“We’ll finish this later.” He comes behind you, closing his shirt, but letting the top buttons opened enough to catch a glimpse of your love marks on his chest. Specially the one with “Mine” marked in it.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　BOSTON FOR THANKSGIVING

chris sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N goes back to Boston with Chris and his brothers for Thanksgiving.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by @smileymilee

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I'm sorry if I couldn't create the whole Thanksgiving vibe correctly, we don't commemorate it on Brazil, so I don't know how it follows traditionally.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The crisp November air bit at Y/N’s cheeks as she followed Chris up the stone walkway leading to the Sturniolo family home. The familiar house with its neatly trimmed hedges and warmly lit windows looked just as welcoming as it had last year, but this time, Y/N felt more at home. It was her second Thanksgiving with Chris and his family, and she already knew what awaited her inside: love, warmth, and a fair bit of chaos.

Chris shifted the bags he was carrying and glanced back at her.

"You ready?" He asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

Y/N nodded, her own smile spreading wide.

"Always."

The front door swung open by Nick before Chris could even reach for the handle. A blur of caramel fur darted out, running between the boy's legs while barking excitedly.

"Trevor!" Y/N squealed, dropping her own bags instantly. She knelt on the porch, arms open wide as the family dog launched himself into her embrace. His tail wagged furiously, and Y/N giggled as he licked her face with enthusiasm.

Chris stood above them, shaking his head with an amused chuckle.

"Guess I know where I stand." He teased, adjusting the straps of the duffel bags on his shoulders before bending slightly and taking her dropped bags, throwing it over his free arm.

Y/N grinned up at him, scratching behind Trevor’s ears.

"You know you’re second to Trevor." She quipped before pressing a kiss to the dog’s head, inhaling his comforting Dog Shampoo scent.

The sound of hurried footsteps approached, and Mary Lou appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.

"There’s my crew!" She exclaimed, her face lighting up at the sight of her boys. She rushed forward, pulling each of them into tight hugs.

"Hi, Mom." Matt said, his voice muffled by her embrace.

"Missed you, Ma." Nick added, smiling fondly as she kissed his cheek lovingly.

When Mary Lou turned to Y/N, her expression softened even more.

"Oh, my sweet girl!" She said, pulling her up and into a hug so warm and tight, it could melt the chill of a Boston winter.

Y/N’s heart swelled.

"I missed you so much." She murmured, squeezing her back.

Mary Lou pulled back just enough to cup Y/N’s face, her eyes bright with affection.

"Missed you too, honey. How’s everything? You’ll have to catch me up on all the details."

"I have so much to tell you." Y/N replied eagerly, already feeling herself slip into the comfort of their mother-daughter dynamic.

"Well, come on then!" Mary Lou laughed, tugging Y/N’s hand and leading her toward the kitchen without so much as a glance back at the boys or their luggage.

Chris watched them go, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

"Every time." He muttered, stepping inside with the bags still slung over his shoulders.

Nick snickered.

"We’re chopped liver the moment Y/N shows up."

"Facts." Matt added, grabbing his duffel and heading toward the living room.

As they piled the bags near the staircase, footsteps creaked from upstairs. Jimmy appeared at the top of the stairs, adjusting his glasses as he surveyed the scene.

"Hey, boys!" He called, his voice booming with warmth.

"Hey, Dad!" They chorused, looking up at him.

Jimmy descended the steps, grinning. But when he noticed the absence of Y/N, his grin widened knowingly.

"Let me guess, your mother already stole Y/N, didn’t she?"

Chris laughed, tossing a jacket over the banister.

"Yep. She didn’t even give us a chance to finish saying hi."

Jimmy chuckled, clapping a hand on Chris’s shoulder.

"Sounds about right. That girl’s practically her daughter at this point."

"Don’t we know it." Matt said, rolling his eyes playfully.

In the kitchen, Y/N perched on a stool at the island, recounting stories to Mary Lou as Trevor curled up at her feet. The smell of freshly baked pies filled the air, and the warmth of the room seemed to wrap around Y/N like a blanket.

Mary Lou hung on her every word, her eyes sparkling.

"You’re such a delight." She said, reaching out to squeeze Y/N’s hand. "I hope you know how much we love having you here."

Y/N smiled, her heart full.

"I love being here."

The sound of Jimmy entering the kitchen snapped them back to reality, his steps light but deliberate, making a beeline for Mary Lou, planting a quick kiss on the top of her head.

"Hey, hon." He greeted warmly before turning his attention to Y/N. "And there’s our star guest." He said with a broad smile, extending his arms for a hug.

"Hi, Jimmy!" Y/N replied, returning his embrace with the same warmth she always felt from him. "How's that cabin going?" She asked, remembering the small cabin that Jimmy mentioned during their last 'family call' - how Chris liked to call it, one that he'd been building himself.

"It's finally getting somewhere." He smiled proudly, receiving a gaze full of joy and love from Mary Lou.

"Oh! I just remembered that we need to make a quick trip to the supermarket." She folded her towel, looking up at Jimmy. "I thought we had everything, but we’re out of thyme, and I need more butter for the turkey."

The oldest nodded, already heading toward the door.

"I’ll grab the keys."

"Y/N, you okay holding down the fort?" Mary Lou asked, her voice tinged with both apology and trust.

"Of course." Y/N replied immediately, rolling up the sleeves of her green Harry Potter sweater. "I’ve got this."

Mary Lou smiled, her affection evident.

"Thank you. I'll be back in no time."

As the front door closed behind them, Y/N found herself alone in the kitchen. The comforting sounds of laughter and basketball from the living room filtered through as she turned her attention to the stove.

She moved with ease, stirring sauces, seasoning vegetables, and now chopping fresh herbs for the stuffing. Her movements were precise, her mind immersed in the rhythm of cooking.

"Hey, chef extraordinaire." Chris’s voice broke through the quiet.

Y/N glanced up briefly, spotting him leaning against the doorframe, his grin wide and teasing.

"Need something?" She asked, arching a brow before turning back to her task.

"Yeah." He said simply, stepping into the room. "You."

Before she could respond, she felt his long arms slide around her waist, his warmth enveloping her as he pressed gently against her back. His fingers interlocked over her stomach, and his lips brushed against her cheek in a lingering kiss.

"Chris." She murmured, her voice soft with a mix of exasperation and fondness. "I’m trying to cook."

"I know." He whispered against her ear, his voice low and velvety. His lips trailed a slow path along her jaw and down to her neck, leaving a series of soft kisses in their wake.

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly, her hands stilling on the cutting board.

"You’re impossible." She said, her tone betraying her amusement.

"I’m thankful for you." He murmured, completely ignoring her comment, his lips brushing against her shoulder. "So, so thankful."

Her heart melted at his words, and she turned her head slightly, her cheeks flushed, but her smile unrestrained.

"You’re ridiculous." She said softly.

"And yet, you love me." He replied with a grin, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I really do." She whispered back, leaning her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes, enjoying his gentle touch and soft perfume.

Their moment was interrupted by the slam of the front door and Mary Lou’s cheerful voice.

"We’re back!"

The sound of grocery bags being set down and Jimmy’s voice joining the mix signaled their return. Moments later, Mary Lou bustled into the kitchen, her sharp eyes landing immediately on Chris.

"Christopher Owen." She scolded, her tone firm but playful as she placed her hands on her hips. "What are you doing? Let that poor girl work!"

Chris straightened but didn’t release Y/N, grinning like a mischievous child caught in the act.

"I’m just showing her some love, Ma. There's nothing wrong with that."

Mary Lou swatted him lightly on the back of the head.

"Out! Go join your brothers in the living room and let her focus."

Y/N laughed, her cheeks still warm.

"It’s okay, Mary Lou. He wasn’t bothering me too much."

Mary Lou shook her head with a fond smile.

"Don’t defend him, sweetheart. He’ll take advantage of it."

"He totally will!" Nick's voice yelled from the living room, causing laughter to escape Y/N's mouth.

Chris sighed, finally letting go, stepping back with his hands raised in surrender.

"Fine, fine. But for the record, I’m still thankful for you."

He winked at Y/N as he left the kitchen, his retreat punctuated by his brothers’ teasing from the living room.

Mary Lou sighed, her affection for her son shining through even her exasperation.

"That boy." She muttered before turning to Y/N with a warm smile. "You’re a saint for putting up with him, you know."

Y/N paused, her knife hovering over the herbs before glancing toward the door where Chris had disappeared. A soft smile spread across her face, one filled with pure affection.

"I don’t think of it as 'putting up with him,'." She said, her voice warm and sincere. "Loving Chris is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. I'm very thankful for him."

Mary Lou’s expression softened, her eyes glistening just slightly.

"Oh, sweetheart." She said, reaching out to squeeze Y/N’s hand. "He’s lucky to have you. We all are."

Y/N smiled bashfully, her cheeks flushing as she returned to her task, but her heart felt lighter than ever.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

All-American Girl - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley's every part the doting dad to your daughter Tatum, but after talking to some of the other wives on base in your mom's group, you're worried he may be hiding his true feelings about fatherhood.

A/N: not me procrastinating and adding to my country music series instead of literally anything else on my list. here's sickeningly sweet bradley as a girl dad fluff based off All-American Girl by Carrie Underwood.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x wife!reader

content/warnings: sickeningly sweet fluff, Bradley as a girl dad, mentions of sexism.

word count: 1.4k

Now he's wrapped around her finger, she's the center of his whole world And his heart belongs to that sweet little beautiful, wonderful, perfect all-American girl

Bradley groaned as he jogged up the front steps, his boots heavy against the brick as he walked up the veranda to the front door. An American flag flapped in the breeze, the pole nestled in the stand attached to the pillar on the front of the house, the mid-afternoon sun striking the front yard, basking over the dozens of plants and greenery that were planted there. Bradley kicked his boots off the moment he crossed the entryway, stacking them neatly by the door. He started unzipping his flight suit, his tanned skin slicked with sweat from the training exercises he’d completed earlier that day. He thought about the list of things he wanted to do before he settled in for the night with you - a shower was the first priority at this point. 

Peeling the olive green suit off his skin, he discarded it in the laundry hamper in the bathroom. His white t-shirt and boxers followed suit, along with the thick, military issued socks. He’d plan on washing those tonight after dinner. He padded along the hallway to the bathroom, his balls of his feet sticking to the cherry wood flooring. The cool water flowing from the shower head was a refreshing comfort compared to how warm he was earlier, he contemplated asking for a transfer to somewhere colder after today - the hot Pacific coast sun was brutal, and despite having lived in California for a few years now, Bradley hadn’t adjusted. Not that Virginia Beach had been much cooler - at least, not in the summer, but it wasn’t as consistently warm as it was on the west coast. 

As Bradley stepped out of the shower, he wrapped a plush, lavender coloured towel around his waist. Shaking his caramel coloured curls dry, he approached the vanity, reaching for the pomade - the same brand he’d been using to tame his hair since he was 14. His mom had taught him that trick - using a styling pomade to keep his curls intact, but less wild than they would be left to their own devices. Part of him wondered if he just never changed brands because it was the one she’d suggested for him, one of the last happy memories of his mother that he had clung to for the last 26 years. 

“Bradley? I’m home!” you called out from the bottom of the stairs, having seen Bradley’s vintage Ford Bronco parked in the driveway. 

“Upstairs, honey!” He yelled back, his deep voice echoing throughout the empty house. 

He quickly pulled on a pair of denim shorts and a fresh, white t-shirt, grabbing his favourite floral print button-down on his way down the stairs. He beamed at you, leaning in to give you a loving peck on the cheek. He knelt down in front of the car seat you’d placed on the floor, smiling softly at his infant daughter as she stretched and yawned, waking up from the nap she’d taken on the car ride home. 

“Good mornin’ sunshine! How’s my girl?”

Bradley held his index finger out to baby Tatum, smiling as she gripped it tightly in her hand. He began unbuckling her harness with his free hand as he spoke to her.

“Did you have a fun day with Mama? What did you do, princess? You and your mama go shopping for some new clothes, baby girl?” 

Tatum let out a happy sigh as Bradley scooped her up in his arms, holding her close to his chest. He leaned his head down to kiss her forehead, his hand moving up and down her back in soft, slow, gentle strokes as he cuddled his baby. He took a seat on the couch, leaning back slightly so Tatum could recline on his chest. He smiled up at you, waiting patiently for you to start showing off the different outfits you’d purchased for Tatum. He’d always sworn that he’d never be the type of father who’d dismiss things he wasn’t interested in - whether it was baby clothes, or ballet, baby and me classes or going for walks around the neighborhood with her - he’d always try his best to be into it. It’s how his mom described his father - always interested in anything to do with Bradley when he was little. 

You delicately sifted through the array of dresses and outfits, each garment infused with your hopes and dreams for little Tatum. With tender affection, you recounted where and when you had acquired each piece, your voice tinged with a blend of excitement and maternal pride. Tatum slumbered peacefully, her soft breaths creating a gentle rhythm against Bradley's shoulder, while you poured your heart into sharing your plans for her future attire.

As the last dress found its place, you sank onto the couch beside Bradley, seeking solace in his comforting presence. Nestling into his side, you felt the warmth of his embrace envelop you, his arm offering both physical and emotional support.

“Are you happy?” you murmured softly, a trace of uncertainty lacing your words as you chewed anxiously at your bottom lip. 

A flicker of confusion danced across Bradley's features before he met your gaze with unwavering reassurance.

“Of course I’m happy, why would you ask that?”

“It’s silly,” you sighed, a moment of vulnerability surfacing before you continued, meeting Bradley’s brown-eyed gaze as you spoke, “It’s just that…you know how I took Tatum to that mommy and me group?”

"Mhmm, every Wednesday," Bradley affirmed, his attention fully focused on you.

“Right! That one. Well…one of the moms was saying how she was so thankful her baby was a boy, because her husband wanted a boy really badly and she didn’t want him to be upset if he didn’t get what he wanted…”

Bradley's brow furrowed with concern as he gently kissed Tatum's forehead, a protective gesture that spoke volumes.

“Babe, he sounds like a dick,” Bradley interjected, shaking his head as he gently kissed Tatum’s forehead again. 

“I’m not finished yet!” You said as you held your hand up. “So anyways, she said that, and a lot of the other moms started talking and saying how their husbands were disappointed when they had girls or relieved when they had sons, and then they said how lucky I was that you were happy with a girl. The one of them said her husband pretended to be, but then he was totally different and genuinely happy when they had a boy next.” 

“And you think I’m doing that?” Bradley queried as he tilted his head to the side, looking at you. 

“Well, no, but…would you tell me if you’d wanted a son instead?”

The corner of Bradley's mouth lifted in a soft smile, his gaze softening as he met your eyes. "No," he replied emphatically, shaking his head. “Because I’ve never wanted a son instead of Tatum. Not once.”

“You haven’t?” You said as relief washed over you, Bradley's words washing away any lingering doubts.

“Not for a second. I’ve wanted Tatum from the minute you told me you were pregnant - I never really gave a shit whether she was a boy or a girl. She’s mine and that’s all I care about. It just happened to turn out that she’s the second Bradshaw girl around here to steal my heart, after her mama.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm, you know that song, the one where she says about how her daddy was praying for a boy, but got a girl instead and she was wrapped around his finger? Then she grows up and  asks her husband one day what he wants, and he says he just wants a sweet, beautiful All-American girl like his wife?”

“Yeah, I know it,” You laugh softly as Bradley begins to hum the tune of the song, singing it softly as he looks down at Tatum.

“That’s exactly how I felt when you told me you were having a girl. I just wanted a beautiful little baby who looked just like you, and that’s exactly what I got. Now I have two beautiful girls who love me more than anything, and I would move mountains for the pair of you. We could have twelve girls for all I care - I’d love every single one of them just as much as I love you.”

[cottonlemonade]

A Rainy Day

word count: 690 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: post-time skip husband!Kita x chubby!Reader

genre: tooth-rotting fluff

warnings: spoilers

request: watching Hocus Pocus with caramel popcorn, dressed as a princess with Kita || fluffy, staying inside on a rainy day with husband Kita

It had been raining all day. You sat by the large window in the living room, the book you brought with you to the armchair lying long forgotten on your lap while you watched the front yard fill with puddles. Your husband was busy in the kitchen, asking you to please relax while he took care of dinner. From the smell of it, you guessed your favorite stew was bubbling on the stove and cinnamon rolls turned golden brown in the oven. When a truck slowly drove by on the now muddy dirt road you woke from your trance and sighed. You had looked forward to today all week. The rice was ready to be harvested, making your husband leave before dawn and return after dark, exhausted and in desperate need of a long hot shower. He’d climb into bed behind you to be the big spoon, his calloused hands gently mapping out every curve and squishy pouch of his wife’s body for comfort before falling asleep only a few minutes after his head hit the pillow.

During this time it had taken a bit of rational persuasion and a whole lot of puppy dog eyes to make him take a day off to rest and maybe go out for a picnic to enjoy the last warmth of the fall sun before parkas and turtlenecks would be retrieved from the back of your wardrobe.

But of course, the rain didn’t care about your plans. You allowed yourself a short pout before getting up and walking over to the closed kitchen door. If you were already stuck inside, you at least wanted to kiss and cuddle your husband as much as possible before the following morning called him away again.

“Honey, can I come in?”

You heard shuffling on the other side and the door opened to reveal Kita with a little flour on his cheek.

“What would ya do if I said no?”

“I’d be really sad and also would start questioning if you’re having an affair with the toaster.”

He grinned and stepped aside.

“Then by all means come on in.”

“Oh, this looks delicious!”, you gasped, taking in the heavily laden tray of steaming goodness that sat on the table. The back door was open and a light spray of rain glistened on the tiles.

“Want me to get the plates?”

“I already set everything up for dinner.”, he said as he grabbed an empty bowl to fill it with rice fresh from the cooker.

Two portions of this were then carefully added to the tray and he grabbed both handles, lifting it with ease. You temporarily zoned out again seeing the taut muscles in his forearms as he did so.

“Wouldya mind takin’ the umbrella, love?”

Your husband nodded toward the open backdoor where, sure enough, your large black umbrella leaned, still dripping slightly.

You did as he asked and following his example you slipped into some garden sandals on the patio and made sure to keep him and the food dry as he led you over to the greenhouse.

The big pots with various herbs and small citrus trees that were usually kept in the back, stood outside the door, leaving lots of free space that was now taken up by a picnic blanket and camping lanterns. A small bouquet of flowers, undoubtedly picked from your garden, was arranged in a glass vase with a few raindrops still clinging to the blossoms. Next to them sat the little speaker from your kitchen that quietly played from your favorite playlist.

You still stood in the door, clutching the umbrella while your husband now used a ladle to divide the stew.

“Ain‘t ya hungry?“, he asked, sitting back on his heels.

Stumbling over the threshold you left the umbrella next to a shelf of cabbage seedlings and finally joined him. The rain had let up a little and only politely tapped onto the glass roof now. Kita handed you a cup of tea.

“I can‘t believe you did all this.“, you managed to say.

Your husband just shrugged and raised his cup to yours. “For you, petal, anything.“

art: @cookiechochop on Twitter

a/n: request for @ennoshitas-princess

Thank you so so much for this soft request! I hope you enjoyed it 🌟

[hey-august]

age gap buggy with a reader who became part of the crew but is his precious little girl

WC: ~300 Warnings: nsfw, more spicy than smutty, buggy x f!reader, good girl

When you said you were running away to the circus, no one took you seriously.

No one except the ring leader, the captain, the star clown, Buggy. How could he say no when you asked so sweetly in between bites of cotton candy. When you said that you’re a quick learner and up for anything. Honestly, he didn’t want to turn away such a cute little thing anyways. Having a bit of eye candy around shouldn’t be a problem. Right?

But his gaze wasn’t the only one stuck to you like warm caramel on a ripe apple. What the crew didn’t expect was how tart you were. That fresh mouth on you, ready to go off on anyone who looked at you with honeyed eyes and offered you empty promises. It worked out, really. Those horndogs didn’t mind being put in their place and were pleased to have someone on the crew who would throw shit back at them.

Even the Captain wasn’t safe from your snark and backtalk, although your sharp tongue was little sweeter with him. And he let you get away with it. You’re young, you don’t know better. It’s cute. Adorable. Like a yapping puppy trying to be tough. Or an annoying kitty brandishing her tiny claws. Honestly, Buggy liked the attention.

But for all that bark, you didn’t have much of a bite. Not when you needed extra lessons from the captain. Not when Buggy had you wrapped around his fingers. Not when you went to sleep in a bed that wasn’t yours, wearing a shirt that was too big.

All you needed to here were those memorizing words in Buggy’s gruff voice. To hear him call you his good girl, his precious treasure, his sweet little treat. His fresh, juicy apple.

[finelinevogue]

when in rome

summary - just a few random clips from a holiday to rome

word count - +3k

pairing - husband!harry x reader

a/n - can’t lie… this could literally be set anywhere and there’s no real plot, but i hope yous enjoy it all the same <33

at the airport

“Hey, give me that.”

Harry holds out his hand for you to pass over the suitcase to him, claiming that he should be the one to pull it not you.

You were originally going to have two suitcases, but it turns out that neither of you were packing heavy and so one suitcase it was.

“I’m not incapable.” You sigh.

“I’m not saying that. I would just feel better if y’let me pull it.” Harry plucks your fingers off the handle one by one, distracting you with a kiss as he does so to make it easier for himself, before claiming the suitcase for himself.

“I’m not gonna argue with you at this time in the morning.” You give him another sigh.

You walk behind Harry as he directs you from the Uber to the terminal door.

It is holiday time and you and Harry have decided on a getaway to Italy, Rome. One of the most romantic cities in Europe and famous for its history and pizza.

Harry decided that you would fly Economy, rather than taking the jet, because it was more practical for a bunch of different reasons that you didn’t really understand.

Hence why you are grumpy now.

You had to get up at 2AM, to get and Uber and be through security before your flight leaves at 7:30AM.

Clad in one of Harry’s oversized hoodies and gym shorts, your legs are cold, your eyes are heavy from tiredness and your body aches from the run Harry made you go on yesterday.

You rub your eye free of sleep and accidentally bump into Harry as he’s stopped.

Harry is wearing a similar hoodie to you, because he couldn’t wear his favourite one due to lending it to you, running shorts and of course a pair of sunglasses and a hat.

“Sorry. After you.” Harry politely lets an old couple pass, which is why you were stopped short.

He turns around to you to make sure you’re okay and smiles when he sees you unattractively yawn. You look like a small kitten who has just been awoken.

“There better be a coffee shop somewhere in here.” You say as you walk through the doors.

The airport is already busy with hundreds of people buzzing to get out of this dreary country and into hotter destinations.

“Also, I love your fans, but I swear to God if one of them approaches us this morning…” You say.

Harry chuckles, “Yeah? What will you do, love hmm?”

“Turn into the Hulk.”

“I feel sorry for them already.” Harry smiles and you hit him in his arm as a joking reply.

You stand together in a snaking queue to check in and then to get through security, until you’ve made it to the other side successfully. Also, without anyone publicly exclaiming that Harry is here.

You hold Harry’s hand as you walk next to each other out of security.

“Y’wanna get coffee first? Or find somewhere to sit?” Harry asks you, hoping you’re listening but he can’t tell because your hood is up.

“Dunno.” You say indecisively, beyond tired.

“Let’s go find somewhere and then I’ll go get us coffees, yeah? You can just sit and look pretty.” He squeezes your hand.

“No. I wanna stay with you.” You wrap your other hand around his forearm and hold him close, pressing your face against his arm also.

“Okay, okay. Well let’s go this way then.”

Harry directs you to the coffee bar and you both stand in another queue as you wait to order.

“Y’want your usual?” Harry asks and you nod.

When Harry’s called over, he makes sure to bring you with him and scans the bakery section one more time.

“Hi honey! What can I get for you?” The woman behind the counter asks.

“Morning. Hi. Um, can we have one croissant, one pain au chocolat, one black coffee and one latte with a shot of caramel please. Thank you.”

As Harry pays on your shared bank card, you thank him with a small voice.

“Thank you.” You hug into his arm more.

“It’s okay.” He kisses the top of your head. He wants to kiss your lips, but he also wants to remain as PG as possible in such a public space just in case someone is secretly filming.

After you’ve collected your order, you go and find a table to sit at. You find a small booth that overlooks the runway, so you can watch the planes take off. Harry knows it’s one of your favourite things to do in an airport, so he chose this spot on purpose.

You make small talk as you eat, both of you sat on the same side of the booth so that you can lean on Harry to rest once you’ve finished.

You talk about the planes taking off and your potential itinerary for the next couple of days. Harry just listens to your rambles as he finishes your pastry too, because you couldn’t finish it.

“Can I sleep on you on the plane?” You ask.

“‘Course y’can, baby. Think we have a window seat and a middle seat.”

“Can I sit by the window?”

“Yeah. You can lean on my shoulder if y’want.”

“Please. Thank you.”

“Anything for you, love, you know that.” He kisses your forehead again.

checking in

You get out of the Uber first.

It is already so humid here in Rome and it’s just gone midday.

Your hotel is right in the centre of Rome, just a few streets over from the Trevi Fountain and then a few more streets over from the Gucci store too.

Harry made sure to book somewhere that would be accessible to the majority of everything. Money wasn’t an issue. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise you it Harry even booked the most expensive hotel in Rome.

The porter greets you and takes your suitcase for you. Harry tops the driver and thanks him with the Italian he’s been learning.

Harry takes your hand as you walk inside, thankful for the air conditioning in the building.

“Buonjiorno.” The man behind the desk greets you.

“Buonjiorno.” Harry replies. “We’re here to check in?”

You were a little early but decided you would try to check in anyways.

“Of course. Name, please?”

“Styles.”

“Both of you?”

“Yes.” Harry can’t help but smirk as he speaks. You nudge him, because you feel the same way.

“I have… Uh, Y/N Styles and Harry Styles?”

“Sí.” Harry nods.

“For 4 nights?”

“Sí.”

“Okay.” The man shuffles around some papers and types some things on the computer. “So your room number is 406. This is the fourth floor. You can take the lift up, which is just over there. Breakfast is included, which will be on the terrace between 7 and 10.”

“Amazing.” You smile for what feels like the first time since landing.

You’ve been so tired that you have found it hard to keep your eyes open and pretend like you’re alive.

“The pool is on the roof and will be open 7AM until midnight. The gym facilities are open all the time. Room service is three euros per call. These are your key cards and we hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Grazie.”

“Grazie.” You and Harry both thank the man and make your way over to the lift.

A few minutes later and Harry is opening your hotel room door.

You step inside and immediately fall in love. It’s decorated with marble floors and high ceilings with gorgeous artwork - probably that inspired of the Sistine Chapel.

The bed is a large queen size bed with lots of pillows and comforters. There’s a long chair at the foot of the bed and a sofa just across from that.

The most captivating thing about the room is the three sets of french doors, which all open onto a small balcony. There’s sheer curtains draped over the ceiling length doors, softly blowing in the wind.

Beyond that is the view that money did actually buy.

A view of the majority of Rome. You could see St Peters perfectly and Harry mentioned that the sun set will be visible from this room too. All the small buildings below and the little people on their way to work or tourists wandering.

“And?” Harry prompts.

“And what?” You twirl around to see him wandering over, after having shut the door and abandoned the suitcase.

“Is this okay?”

“Is that a serious question?” You raise your eyebrows.

You open your arms as Harry walks into you, wrapping his arms over your shoulders. He breathes you in and squeezes you tight and you follow suit.

“Mm. Want you to have the best time.”

“Harry, babe, this is perfect. More than perfect. Thank you for everything.” Your voice is muffled by speaking into Harry’s jumper.

Harry kisses you on the head a couple of times.

“Do y’want to go for a nap and then go have a wander?”

“Yes please.”

“M’kay.”

It doesn’t take you both long to get comfortable in the bed. Harry opens a door to let in a better breeze and the air con is on full to make sure you don’t overheat.

Harry lays behind you, where you’re laying on your side. Your hood is off now, because Harry likes to lean his face into your neck when you sleep. He likes to breathe in your homely scent and warmth.

His hand lays on your stomach, underneath his jumper, and rubs little circles with his fingers.

You start giggling and Harry asks what’s up with you.

“Tickles.” You hum softly, quite relaxed by the funny feeling.

“Does it now? Y’skins so soft, so I can’t help myself.”

“Won’t be soft forever. Especially if you keep on trying to get me pregnant.”

Harry kisses your neck and leaves a little mark with his teeth. His hand spreads over the span of your stomach and holds it there.

“Won’t care. When you’re pregnant, I am only going to love you and your body twice as much.”

“You say that now…”

“And I’ll say it again when the time comes.” Harry cute you off from any more deprecating thoughts. “Now shush. I’m trying to make sure you get your beauty sleep.”

exploring back alleys

You and Harry walk hand in hand down a busy street in Rome.

It is so hot and humid that your bodies are so sticky from the heat, but you hold onto each others hands nonetheless because you are simply that attached to one another.

Harry leads the way, walking around the crowds of tourists and past random shops selling art and Rome tat.

He turns around and catches you admiring all the colourful buildings and wonderful Roman architecture, and he can’t help but smile at your wonderous face.

You feel a tug on your hand Harry’s holding and giggle a little when you feel him pulling you towards a back alley.

He runs a little quicker and you have to keep up with him. You check behind you to see if he is running away from something, but no one is following and you think he’s mad for running now.

“Harry!” You laugh as he makes a harsh right and pulls you down another side street.

This one bends slightly in the middle so you can’t see the street entrance either which way.

You don’t have the time to ask any questions before Harry is pushing you against a brick wall painted apricot. He holds his hands on your face and presses his lips hungrily onto yours.

You’re not only hot from the weather, now, but also from how attracted your husband is in this moment.

You groan as he steps forward so he’s leaning infinitely close into your body. You sigh when he moves his head to the side to kiss your better, cupping your hands over his to get a guide on which way he will move next.

When he pulls away you sadly pout.

He laughs at your expression and decides to kiss you again, even longer this time. He kisses and kisses you until you make the move to pull away, before you pass out from lack of breathing.

You laugh first and then Harry follows.

Both of you have never felt happiness like this. Just happy being simply together.

“You’re so…”

“I’m so what, baby?” Harry laughs breathlessly.

“I don’t even know.” You laugh, cupping his cheek and flitting your eyes between both of his as you try to decided which one is prettier. “I do know that I love you, like a lot.”

“Only a lot?”

“Well, like as much as the universe is big.” You give him a warm summers smile.

“Oh well that’s alright then.”

He leans forwards and seals his lips with yours again. You kiss him with all the love you have pocketed for him and don’t let him go until you hear footsteps approaching.

It’s a man and his daughter on their way somewhere.

As they walk past, Harry and you loosen your hold on one another as you don’t want to display too much PDA.

Once they’ve gone Harry giggles.

“What?” You ask.

“Just thinking how that’ll be me someday. Lost in a city with our daughter ‘cause I’m too stubborn to use a map and she’ll probably be distracting me with her gorgeous face she got from her mum…” He trails off.

“That was an intense thought, babe.”

“Mm. It’s been on my mind a lot lately. Having a baby with you, I mean.”

“It’s been on my mind too.”

That’s all that’s said, but you both smile at each other knowingly that as of today you’re starting your future together.

dining out

Harry looks divine.

Dressed in an unbuttoned white linen shirt that sits on top of a white vest, with a pair of dark navy blue cotton shorts and his rusty old white vans, he has never looked so gorgeous.

It’s the subtle burn and tan of his skin that has you melting for him.

You are currently clipping his hair back with one of your small hair grips for him. He can do it himself, but he prefers it when it comes from you.

You’re both freshly showered and very hungry.

Sweet Disposition by the Temper Trap is playing in the background as you both get ready for dinner in your hotel room. After walking through Rome for the day, you spent some time in the swimming pool together and then showered together before getting ready.

“Y’look beautiful, m’love.” Harry says, watching you through the mirror.

“Thank you.” You speak softly, cheeks flushing over his compliment.

“This red dress on you is just… it’s perfect. You look perfect.”

Your red mini dress shows of your legs that Harry admires so much, and paired with a pair of platform sandals you look like a model straight from Vogue.

“Feel pretty, actually.”

“Good. Y’look prettier than anyone has ever looked in that dress.” Harry knows how to charm you best.

“Baby, you need to stop complimenting me otherwise we’ll miss our reservation.” You laugh, finishing clipping his hair.

“Can’t help myself. So lucky you chose me.” Harry picks your ring finger up and kisses over the ring that symbolises eternity between you.

“I’ll always choose you. You are too handsome not to.”

An hour later and you’re sitting at the restaurant.

Harry pulled your chair out for you and made sure you were comfortable before sitting in his own chair.

The restaurant is on a lovely little side street, decorated with fairy lights across the terracotta wall. There are ivy vines growing there too and the atmosphere is just peaceful.

There are a few families and other couples here too. It’s not a very fancy restaurant as Harry admitted that the best restaurants in Italy are the most homely and authentic ones.

The waiter was already fetching some water for you whilst you looked the menu.

“What are you thinking, baby?” You ask Harry, from where he is sat across from you.

“Maybe just a Margarita pizza.”

“Really?” You question his taste in food.

“Need something simple but good tasting tonight.”

“Okay, well at least get the bruschetta with me for starters?” You ask, wanting to share something with him.

“Sounds good, yeah.”

When the food comes, you feed Harry some of your pasta whilst Harry gifts you a slice of pizza. Both dishes are beautiful and cooked perfectly.

You both laugh and have the most amazing evening.

The best moment of the evening is when an old couple walk past you, holding each others hands.

“You two are so beautiful together.” The old man says.

“Thank you so much.” Harry smiles and holds your hand in his from across the table.

“Your love reminds me of ours. Precious. Forever.” He goes on to say and you have to swallow back the tears from how sweet his words are.

Harry smiles at you.

“Definitely forever.”

[munsonthings86]

we've been celestial even before this

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: after she has a particularly rough day, steve takes his girl stargazing

warnings: cursing, fluff, soft!steve, established relationship (but still fairly new), oversimplified summary, reader depicted to be nineteen, these two being the biggest lovesick idiots for each other

an: i've been having a lot of fun writing about these two. they own my entire heart. hope you guys enjoy this one * don't copy my work *

wc: 6.1k

steve and sunshine's timeline

The trembling flame of the Coffee House scented candle illuminated your messy bedroom in a flickering, warm, honey light. The smell of the candle resembled nothing of coffee, more like hot cocoa or caramel you thought, but it did its job of calming your rattled nerves, nonetheless. Most of your wooden floor was hidden beneath neglected pieces of clothing that you'd pulled from your closet in a hopeless attempt to string together a decent outfit that morning. I'll tidy up tomorrow, you shrugged, though knowing you, there was a high possibility that "tomorrow" would turn into next week.

Procrastination was a terrible habit of yours, and the tension that the day left you with was doing very little to diminish it. Your early morning shift at Family Video was borderline torturous; Keith saw to that when he scheduled you sans Steve and Robin and had two inept new hires shadow you. Sure they were nice and all, from what you can recall anyway, but you were too out of it to bestow on them the patience you typically had.

Once the stint came to its much desired end, a dreadful date at the Indiana Bureau of Motor Vehicles awaited you. In your venture to become more of an independent and responsible "adult" (being merely nineteen, the word made your blood run cold), the goal of obtaining your permit was set in stone. The written test was passed with flying colors, but like any classic BMV nightmare, you'd forgotten a required document to actually get the damn permit.

Nearly plunging to your knees, you begged the grumpy old woman behind the counter to let you run back to your apartment that was “just down the street”. Truthfully, it was a thirty minute trip on foot, but she didn't need to know that. If you ran, you could make it back in twenty.

But, again, like any classic BMV nightmare, all she left you with was a hardly sympathetic, "Sorry ma'am, but if you don't have all the required documents, I'm afraid you'll have to come back tomorrow. The office closes in fifteen minutes." Through clenched teeth, you thanked her for her time, though she neglected to return the gesture, squawking "Next in line!" in a tone that was poles apart from her customer service voice.

Mercifully, your day wasn't all terrible. On the way back home, you stopped by the library to return a week's long overdue book and, instead of crucifying you for it, the lovely librarian recommended a novel she thought you'd appreciate. Rose in Splendor by Laura Parker. Unbeknownst to her, you'd been dying to read it ever since it was published last year. The grouch over at the BMV could definitely take a page out of her book. No pun intended.

Curled into bed and tucked under your beloved ivory crotched blanket, you thumbed along the pages through gravelly, blurry eyes. You kept promising yourself "one more page", but that was well over ten pages ago.

The male love interest was recounted having perfectly tousled brown hair with a body to die for, and you couldn't help but to think of your Steve. You missed him terribly in that moment and the one thing that kept your woe at bay was the anticipation of you two's nightly phone call. It was the selling point of all your days spent without him, truth be told.

The chime of the landline in the hallway between your kitchen and bedroom pierced through the otherwise silence of your apartment, prompting you to glance at the clock on your wall. 9:32 p.m.

Speak of the devil.

Folding a little doggy ear onto the page to preserve your place, the blanket keeping your legs warm was tossed among your strewn out clothes as you nearly slipped, scurrying to answer the phone. You couldn't bite back your smile as you pressed the receiving end against your ear, hearing the music that was Steve's voice, fill your mind.

"Hi, sunshine."

A breath that was unknowingly caged, freed itself at the sound. "You're nearly on time," you teased, referring to earlier today when Steve promised to call you at 9:30 sharp tonight. Usually, he called you earlier than this, but he was jammed with babysitting duties for the six kids you were considering adopting for yourself at this point.

"I know, I'm sorry," he chuckled. "They finally fixed that game at the arcade that's been down for the past few weeks. Gaga, I think it's called."

"Galaga," you corrected, giggling to yourself. It wasn't a rare occurrence whenever the kids would drag you along on one of their many hangouts, so you were rather well-versed in their nerdy recreations. "Yeah, that's the one. I could barely pry their grubby little hands off the thing. Especially Dustin."

Based on his tone, the roll of Steve's eyes as he spoke was nearly audible. As much as he complained about constantly having to be the one to look after the party, there was a part of him that covertly loved the fact that they depended on him so much. Not only was it somewhat of an ego boost, but he's always dreamed of having little nuggets of his own to protect and guide and treasure.

The daydream of Steve being the ideal father, unlike his own dad ever was, reeled your bottom lip between your teeth as the cord of the landline fell into the trap of your twirling fingers. It was so vivid; a shirtless Steve wearing blue jeans that hugged his bottom so perfectly, driving a rackety lawn mower along the wild grass of the front yard to the house you may or may not have pictured the pair of you living in.

In that utopia, the children that you may or may not have pictured parenting with Steve, sat behind the lemonade stand that was built by their father, giggling and toying with a leaky hose as they awaited customers. You'd be watching your little family from the boxy window of the kitchen, fixing them an afternoon snack, unable to contain your laugh when the hose goes haywire, soaking your lover from head to toe.

The imagery made you giggle out loud, head falling against the wall as your stomach cramped. "What?" Steve asked, laughing along with you though it's purely out of instinct, because of course he didn't know what you were laughing about. But hearing your audible delight was contagious. He couldn't help it.

"It's nothing," you assured, smiling softly before continuing, "just hoping your day was better than mine was."

"Well I don't like the sound of that," he frowned, sneakers squeaking against his floor as he shifted his weight onto his other leg. He watched as the days worth of dirt that'd found solace on his shoes, abandon patterned scuffs on the wood. Memories of the pointed sound of his mothers voice demanding no shoes in the house rang through his head like a siren at the sight. He would've ditched his footwear at the door, but he knew he was running late for his phone date.

"What happened?"

Commencing your response with a weary sigh, you shrugged, laughing dryly, "A lot. It's not even funny how exhausted I am right now."

Steve's chest tightened. He hated when you had a bad day; it left a bad taste in his mouth. Even worse, whenever Steve would make an effort to get to the bottom of what ailed his girl, he had a less than impressive success rate, seeing as vulnerability was one of your shortcomings. Steve knew better than to pry. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to do his damnedest to make these final hours of the day your best.

"I'm sorry to hear that, honey," he lowered his head, offering a comforting smile that though you couldn't see, you could hear in his voice. "'S alright," he heard you murmur.

It fell silent for a beat before Steve inquired, "When are you comin' home?", to which you furrowed your eyebrows, letting out a confused chuckle. "Uh, I am home."

Jokingly, the boy scanned his apartment and though he saw some of your forgotten belongings from previous visits, he couldn't seem to pinpoint you. "That's weird, I don't see ya. You hiding somewhere?"

The laugh that erupts from your core at your sappy boyfriend is inescapable. Your shoulders quake as you snicker and Steve's never heard a sound so sweet. Mission accomplished. For now, anyway. "You're an idiot."

"For you, yeah," he retorts, "thought we already established that." The apples of your cheeks are growing sore as Steve's honeyed words denies your smile the chance to falter. Any inconvenience that was precedent to this very moment was long forgotten by virtue of the prince charming that was your boyfriend.

"I'll come see you soon, lover boy," you quipped.

"You makin' fun of me?" He was completely unoffended. Prior to the few weeks of you dating, Steve spent the better part of the past decade containing his cascading love for you behind the dire dam of the friendzone. Despite delay, the dam was broken and there was no playing "Mr. Cool Guy". Steve was crazy about you. And he'd be even crazier to not show it.

"I wouldn't be me if I didn't," you teased. "I'm gonna head to bed, though. I have another shift in the mornin'. That damn Keith," you rolled your eyes, groaning as Steve laughed through his nose.

"Alright, sunshine, I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay," you glowed. "G'night, Stevie." You waited for him to respond with a "goodnight" of his own before returning the phone back to its base, already pining for your boyfriend's presence again. Though you poked fun at it, what Steve said about you not being "home" wasn't just him being sappy. You were feeling the same way.

No matter where you were, whether it was school, work, the arcade, shit, you could be in the Upside Down, but as long as Steve was there, you felt at home. It made you reflect on the times where you'd be lying in bed, unable to slip into a slumber as you couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to go home, though geographically, that's exactly where you were. It was because you missed Steve. And any place where he was absent, was no home of yours.

Sauntering back into your bedroom and kicking away garments to clear a path, you cocooned your body into the blanket that was now stained with the scent of your burning candle, and continued from where you left off in your book. You figured you'd make some decent progress to hopefully avoid another late fee at the library.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It'd been forty minutes later, give or take, when you stood on sore legs, cleansing and moisturizing your face before calling it a night. Your dull eyes wore dark and heavy circles like a hideous skirt, a clear manifestation of the fatigue you were weathering. You rubbed at them unkindly with the hopes of looking even a little more lively, but to no avail.

The bulb of the bathroom went out like a flame once you flicked the switch off, and you abandoned the journey back to your room at the sound of a series of knocks to the front door. Clasping the opening of your robe with shaky hands, you wondered who could be here at this hour. You weren't expecting any visitors. Approaching the door with hushed footsteps, a miniscule view of none other than Steve Harrington could be seen through the peephole of your door.

The tension in your shoulders dissipated, ribs doing their best to cage your fluttering heart. You squealed, fingers fumbling with the lock and you could swear the metal thing had something against you, the way it stalled to unlatch. Steve smiled from the other side of the door as he watched the knob twist and jangle, warmed to know that you were just as eager to see him as he was to see you.

The brown lettering that labeled the white entryway '2F' swung out of view and Steve made eye contact with you for a split second before stumbling back a bit when you threw yourself into him.

Elevating yourself with the tips of your toes to reach him, you trapped his neck between your arms as he returned your hug with one arm, the other remaining properly tucked behind his back. "Hello to you too," he laughed breathlessly before briefly stamping a kiss to your shoulder.

"What're you doing here?" you buzzed, pressing little pecks to as much of his dotted skin as you could. You were suddenly a ball of energy. Finally at home. "When you said later, I thought you meant, like, tomorrow or something."

"Well, I missed you," a kiss to the corner of your mouth, "Wanted to come see ya."

The smile he wore carved thin lines into his cheeks as he spoke, walking your tangled bodies back into the quietude of your apartment. He stopped at your cutesy welcome mat, kicking his shoes off before revealing his arm that held a bouquet of just about the prettiest flowers you'd ever seen.

"Steve," you pouted, releasing your hold on his shoulders, "they're gorgeous." Cradling the peach hued roses dressed in a newspaper-style wrapping paper, your eyebrows scrunched together as you reminded yourself of the time. "What florist is open at 10 p.m.?"

The boy chuckled, locking the door behind him. The plaid pajama pants he wore swung loosely on his legs as he approached you. "There isn't," he ran fingers through his disheveled hair that was long overdue for a trim, "I saw them while I was out with the kids and I thought of you, so I got 'em." He shrugged like it was nothing.

"I was gonna surprise you with them at work tomorrow, but I figured I'd just give 'em to you now, ya' know, all things considered."

Heat rushed to your chest and face as you ogled him, filled with an overwhelming sense of luck to be his. Your feelings toward him felt so immense that at times, you could barely articulate yourself. Words of love and adoration raced through your mind a million miles a second yet you always found yourself terribly speechless.

Steve was so open with his affection for you. It’s a love people pray to experience at least once in their lifetime. And what a heaven-sent gift it was to earn that kind of love from Steve.

These would look perfect by the living room, you thought, turning to the kitchen to retrieve a vase after slipping him a fleeting kiss.

Scouring the white cabinets, you almost failed to remember that you didn't particularly own a vase, given the fact that you'd never actually received flowers before. The realization dejected you a bit.

Steve trailed behind you mindlessly, a frown weighing on his lips as he watched your shoulders droop. Leaning against the space on the counter next to you, he slid down a little, leveling with you, "What's wrong, honey?"

A mumbled, "I've never gotten flowers before," left a pang in his chest, your eyes never leaving the shelves of your cluttered cupboard. "Never needed a vase before."

It was now Steve's turn to slump his shoulders while he gazed at you with sad eyes. How could someone so lovely, so divine as you, not be treated the way you deserved? He would buy you flowers every day if you wanted and he had to bite his tongue when he almost cursed himself for not doing it already. But it's okay. He was here now.

Luring your waist into his body with those burly hands of his, he spoke with assurance laced in his voice, "Well, that's okay," he cooed. "Here, use one of these for now," he pulled a mug that you would've otherwise had trouble reaching, as it sat on the very top shelf, "and tomorrow we'll pick out a nice pretty vase for ya'."

Filling the black cup with water, he planted the roses down as neatly as he could. The flowers sat in the mug awkwardly, all splayed out with the stems way too long for your liking. But somehow, it still managed to be nothing short of perfect. "Cute, a little weird," you shrugged, a smile teasing your mouth, "but cute."

Steve chuckled lowly, situating himself between your legs once you sat on the surface of the tile countertop. "That's funny."

"What is?"

"I said the same about you when I first met you," he laughed, unable to contain his smile before getting the joke out. The face you made didn't help. "Shut up, Harrington," you jab at his shoulder softly, cracking a smile of your own.

Though there was a newfound romance, the typical banter that was mutually exchanged wasn't going anywhere. You were glad that nothing changed between you when you started dating.

Toying with the drawstrings on Steve's Gap hoodie, you began zoning out, the thought of going to bed while cuddled up with your boyfriend, sounding all too alluring. Looking up at him, he was already intently staring at you with painfully adoring eyes and you couldn't help but melt under his heated gaze. "Hi," you muttered, shyness clouding you.

"Hi, sunshine," he smiled, adjusting the collar of your robe with careful fingers. "I'm sorry your day sucked."

"It doesn't, anymore," you replied, sincerely. Steve's eyes lit up at that. It wasn't a secret to anyone that his presence alone seemed to be the antidote for some of your worst days. You'd even admitted it yourself, once or twice. But it never failed to ignite the nerves in Steve's body with fervor.

Although you were completely honest that your mood had gone up about ten octaves since he'd been there, Steve didn't want to just be there. He wanted to do more. It was what you deserved.

"You up for a little adventure?"

"Depends," you squinted. "What kinda adventure are we talking about?" He shifted his weight onto his other leg as his eyes veered off to the ceiling, thinking.

Steve happened to have a few tricks up his sleeve.

"There's somewhere I wanna take you," he drummed a rhythmless beat on your thigh with his fingers. The sneaky expression on Steve's face told you everything you needed to know. He was up to no good. As much as you wanted to go on a late night escapade with your boyfriend, you had to be somewhat, even a little, responsible.

"Steve, it's late and we both have work in the morning," you huffed, losing your grip on the strings you'd been distracting yourself with.

Steve playfully rolled his eyes, flinging his body out of your clutches dramatically. He was going to get you to cave. Whether you already knew it or not. "Alright, grandma, I promise to have you back home at a reasonable hour. Deal?"

The internal battle on whether you should stay or go was evident in your features, though, realistically you had already come to the conclusion that you'd humor him. The "grandma" bit is what really did it for you.

"This is a dumb idea."

"I'll be waiting by the car," he smiled an accomplished smile before leaving the kitchen. Letting out another sharp exhale, you hauled your body off the counter and headed towards your bedroom, discerning that a robe probably wasn't the dress code for wherever it was Steve was taking you.

Concealing your underlying tank top with a hoodie almost similar to Steve's, you threw on some sneakers before snuffing out the diminishing candle. Giving your appearance a once-over in the mirror, you wondered what you'd just gotten yourself into. Though any time with Steve was time well spent, you couldn't help but to look at your bed longingly as you shut off the lights to your apartment, meeting Steve outside.

He stood by the passenger side of the car, fiddling with a loose thread by the end of his sleeve. The fall season brought a night frigid breeze that blew his hair over his eyes like a curtain, making him pout. You hugged your body as you neared him, brushing his brown tresses from his face, though the wind reversed your efforts in no time.

He pressed a kiss to your palm as he became a puddle under your touch, appreciating the way your toasty hand felt against his icy skin. Steve took his own turn rubbing at your arms when he saw you visibly shiver, teeth nearly chattering. "You wanna tell me where we're goin'?" Misty clouds left short-lived trails in the air between the two of you when you spoke.

"Now where's the fun in spoiling the surprise now?" He opened the car door to punctuate his sentence, gesturing you inside. You could only rebut with a roll of your eyes as you entered, though you and Steve both knew you were loving every bit of this. It warmed your heart knowing he was so keen on saving your day from the horror it started it out to be.

Digging through the glove compartment, you sifted through old receipts and other rubbish that really needed to be thrown away, searching for the mixtape you and Steve made for little times like these. Moments that may now seem small, but would soon become memories that you'd cherish for years to come. It served as a little time capsule; hearing the songs you two carefully picked, easily transporting you to these times even when you'd become gray and old.

As Steve began driving off, your fingers found the sneaky cassette that was scribbled with yours and Steve's initials along with doodles of suns, to represent you, and poorly drawn anchors in honor of Steve's Scoop Ahoy era, to represent him.

Regardless of Steve's slight disdain for that period of time, it was one of your favorites and obviously that was due to the fact that the uniform he wore, showed off his legs in the best way possible. It was the perfect eye candy that summer.

The low sound of Bob Marley singing Could You Be Loved floated through the quietness of the car, easing away any tension within you that might've still been trapped. You admired the way the town was so still. The time was hardly 11 p.m., yet there wasn't a soul to be seen; only lonely litter that drifted through the breeze, aimlessly. It was a stark difference from just a few hours ago when you had to dodge shoulders as you cut through the crowded streets on your way home.

The sky was dark and empty apart from the glowing crescent moon that seemed to be chasing you as you drove. It was the only light source you had aside from the street lights that lined the sidewalks. You started counting them and even got to as far as nineteen, but soon lost count once Steve picked up his speed a bit.

Your eyelids threatened to close as the calming drive coupled with the music, fought to lull you to sleep. But instead, bright neon lights stung your sensitive eyes that grew accustomed to the darkness. Squinting, you read the colorful sign labeled "Darling's Diner", and nostalgia strikes you. It had been years. Too many years since you and Steve had been here last.

"Holy shit," you glimmered, hurriedly unbuckling your seatbelt. Steve's hand that found comfort on your thigh during the ride gave it a squeeze before he put the car in park, rushing over to open your car door. He took your hand in his, adoring the way your stunned face gleamed under the glow of the pink and blue neon bulbs. "Surprise," he cheered in a low tone, lightly bumping his shoulder against yours.

The smile you had burned your cheeks but the elation you felt made it all too easy to ignore. The feeling you got whenever you came to Darling's was something indescribable. There were countless fond memories attached to this place and it left you all soft and gooey inside to know that Steve planned on making more with you here. Instinctively, you practically dragged Steve behind you as you rushed inside, the homey scent of burgers, fries, and shakes wafting to your nose.

The floors were still the black and white checkered tiles you remembered them to be; stained with drops of grease and sprinkled with deserted fries. Walls were not much neater, though they were messy with posters and vinyl records instead.

"Want the usual?" Your nod was immediate and shortly after, Steve approached the busy woman impatiently pressing buttons on the register. Wisps of hair fell out of her ponytail and clung onto the film of sweat developing across her forehead. She visibly shrunk into herself as she heard the bell above the door ring, signaling new customers. It was a much busier night than usual.

Regardless of the surge of patrons, the booth you and Steve usually sat in once upon a time, wasn't occupied. The wears and tears corroding the red leather almost served as a name tag, assigning the seat for you two. It was impossible to forget the days Steve came here with you after school, carelessly doing homework while listening to whatever song played on the jukebox.

The table was tidy apart from laminated menus and coloring sheets scattered across the surface. You smirked thinking of the times you and Steve swore you could be the next Picassos, the way you took those things so seriously. As if they'd be hung in museums, you did your best to color them, but not without the added challenge of switching papers with Steve every few minutes. A fun little game you played.

Colored pencils sat by the condiments and you made yourself busy adding hue to the Back to the Future poster, sliding Steve a sheet with some random sports car you didn't know the name of, when he made his way over. He traded you with a cup of hot cocoa with jumbo marshmallows that threatened to abandon ship. "Thanks, Stevie."

"Anytime," he smiled, biting at the cherry that was kissed with a touch of the whipped cream that sat atop of his strawberry milkshake. His long legs brushed against yours as he sat next to you, knees finding mutual rest against each other.

A waitress on pink roller skates offered a kind smile as she brought over a basket of fries that Steve and you snacked on while you chatted and giggled, coloring your own and each other's papers as time seemingly flew by.

"How long has it been since we've last been here?"

"I couldn't tell you. Anything before senior year is such a blur," you responded, adding finishing touches to Steve's car before taking the last sip of your now barely hot, hot chocolate. "I'm just sad we stopped coming here."

"Me too," he swung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in for an apologetic kiss to your temple. "But I promise to bring you a little more often. It was our spot when we were kids and it'll be our spot now."

You looked at him with bright eyes while hugging his torso, despite the awkward position. Trying to understand what you did to deserve someone like Steve was a dead mission, as you could never fully wrap your head around it. How does one try to understand why they've gotten so lucky?

He kissed away the marshmallow mustache idling on your upper lip before tapping your leg twice, "C'mon, we've got one more stop to make."

The spot he sat in was quickly losing its fever as he stood, holding a hand out for you to take, but you just stared at him with a face that was an odd marriage of scolding and amusement. "Steve," you warned.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you can yell at me about it later. But I promise you'll love it." Waving his hand to urge yours into his, you accepted it with little hesitation at his grin. You wished the woman at the front a good night as you left the bistro, while Steve dropped a tip in the jar next to her.

He didn't let your hand go until you were sat in the passenger seat, subsequently getting behind the steering wheel, inserting the key in the ignition. You could tell Steve was tired too, the way he full-body stretched as he yawned, rubbing at his eyes that were getting a bit red from fatigue. He wanted to go to bed and cuddle and forget about the world just as much as you did. So why were you still out there?

"What's all this for, Harrington?"

He answered your question with another one of his own, "What's all of what for?"

"Tonight. Everything. The flowers, the diner, and now something else. I'm really grateful for it, don't get me wrong," you warmed his hand when you held it, "but why so much?"

Steve shrugged, averting his gaze to the gear shift sitting between you two. He softly rubbed at your knuckles while he gathered his thoughts.

"Well, you told me that you had a shit day. Just wanted to change that. I like when you're happy."

Your throat felt like it was closing in on itself and your chest stung when tears pricked at your eyes. Steve looked back at you affectionately, the voice of his eyes telling you just how much he cared for you. It made your heart so full. It was too much to handle sometimes.

"I like when you're happy too, Stevie," you beamed, blinking away the pool by your bottom eyelashes. Cupping his cheek, you pushed your plump lips against his that were a little chapped, though you didn't seem to mind at all. Reluctantly, you pull away and Steve doesn't think it was nearly long enough as he sneaks in a few extra pecks.

The drive to wherever on Earth it was that Steve was taking you, was much different compared to the one prior. It almost didn't look like Hawkins. For the past couple miles, Steve's burgundy BMW had been the only car on the road. The trees were taller, a darker green and stronger in numbers than the ones you were used to. The street lamps were less abundant and dimmer than usual, and the animal crossing signs told you that you were more than just a little ways from home.

You had almost said something until Steve pulled off to the side, parking the car on an empty hill just off the road that overlooked Hawkins and the neighboring city. It looked so small from here. Steve smirked at the puzzled expression you threw his way as you removed your seatbelt.

"Before you ask, just come outside. There's something I wanna show you."

You didn't bother waiting for Steve to open the door for you, as you stepped out, attempting to conjure up what he could possibly be wanting to show you out here. There was nothing to be seen but dirt and fallen leaves and branches. "What exactly am I supposed to be looking at?"

"Look up," he responded, leaning against the hood of the car.

Your furrowed eyebrows relaxed as a gasp fell from your lips at the sight of the cloudless sky, lighting up with numerous twinkling stars, an image you could only dream of seeing for yourself since you were a little girl. The mighty city that sat so close to Hawkins fostered light pollution that made it nearly impossible to see the stars at night. If you were lucky, you were only able to make out about one or two, though you weren't sure if they had been stars or planets, instead. Either way, it ignited your soul to be able to see such a bright and beautiful piece of the universe, making you feel so small in the best way possible.

That didn't nearly amount to this very moment though, where there were more stars that you could count, sitting so prettily in the midnight sky.

Mouth still agape, you utter, "Steve, it's beautiful," and other than that, you were rendered speechless. You couldn't dare to tear your eyes from it, worried that if you did, it would all disappear, proving to be a mere hallucination from your tiredness. Steve adored the way you stared at the heavens, noticing the way it was the same way you looked at him. All he could see was a clear reflection of the stars in your eyes, and it perfectly spoke to the way he felt about you.

He saw everything when he looked at you. The sun, the moon, the stars, the universe, even the galaxy. His past, his present, his future. All of it. To him, you encompassed everything beautiful and divine. He was convinced you were too good for this planet. Too extraordinary. How did he get so lucky?

"Look," you pointed at two stars that sat close to one another, shining impossibly brighter than the others, "do you think that's us in another universe?"

Steve smiled at your question, cherishing how whimsical you could be sometimes. Your voice was soft and full of wonder and he couldn't be more content in this moment. "Yeah," he nodded at you, "I'm yours in every universe, sunshine." He kissed the back of your hand, holding your intertwined hands against his chest.

"Y'know I was thinking to myself the other day about how weird relationships are," he stated, looking down at his feet. You peeled your eyes away from the sky, gazing at your boyfriend for the first time since you stepped out of the car. "Weird, how?"

"I don't know, like how you randomly meet someone and get to know them really well and one day just decide, 'I like this human. I'm gonna spend all my time with them and take care of them.' Maybe weird isn't the word, but it's definitely interesting," he rambled, talking with his hands, even the one that was still laced through yours.

You nodded along, understanding where he was coming from. It was something you'd thought about yourself. He continued, "Like, I look at us and how far we've come and it scares me a little 'cause I see how my parents are now. They were best friends before they got married and now I can count on only one hand the amount of times I've seen them hug or kiss. Freaks me out."

This was one of the few times Steve spilled what was weighing on his mind. You could always tell when something bothered him and though he'd give you bits and pieces when you asked what was wrong, it was never anything as nuanced as this. It made you proud to see him develop so much.

"We're not them, Steve. It's like you said, I'm yours in every universe. Maybe they aren't each others every universe," you sighed, "We won't end up like them, I promise"

You always knew how to reassure him. It was one of the things Steve loved so much about you; your way with words. Nothing sort of a poet, he thought. He engulfed your face with his palms, kissing you with every ounce of passion he had.

Lowly in the background, you could hear the song Just the Two of Us by Grover Washington, as the mixtape was still playing in his car. "It's our song," you smiled against his lips when you pulled away. You took his hands from your face, grasping them when you asked him, "Dance with me?"

He nodded, holding your body against his as your head fell against his chest, looking down at the sleeping town that felt so far away. You swayed back and forth, finding comfort in the near silence, listening to the rhythmic beating of Steve's heart. "Thank you for this, Steve," you whispered. "I'm lucky to be yours."

"Even if you weren't, I'd still do it for you," he admitted, running hand across your back, tenderly.

The little sentence made you think. Steve has been in your life for well over a decade now and he never failed to be there for you even when you didn't know how to ask for it. He was the one who took care of you whenever you found it a little difficult to take care of yourself. The one who never dared to leave your side.

You and Steve were in love even before you were. You'd been celestial even before this.

"I love you, sunshine," he murmured, head resting on top of yours.

"I love you back, Stevie."

💌 1 new message from jojo: pls pls pls comment/reblog (or both teehee) if you enjoyed, it means a lot! inbox is open!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Not sure how old Gidel is but how about we get to see him and Cheka meeting? and then big bros Leona and Fellow can watch their kids play with each other haha

So tell me, do you wanna go?

Fellow liked to think of himself as decent at arithmetic. Numbers made sense, had clear-cut definitions to them. They could be manipulated in predictable ways. Added, subtracted, divided.

He also knew that children don't just magically multiply--which was why he did a hard double take when he glanced back and found two figures trotting after him, not one.

"... Who the hell's this?" Fellow demanded, thrusting his fox-tipped cane at the second boy. "You seen this guy before, Giddie?"

Gidel furiously shook his head.

The new child, a lion cub with a fiery orange mane, stared up at Fellow with wide caramel eyes. “Hiya! Have you seen my ojitan? I'm lookin' for him."

"Your ojitan?" Fellow blinked. He combed through the NRC staff in his head. Not a single lion beastman came to mind. Shoot, looks like I can't hold him for a handsome ransom. "Nope, can't say I have. You might be lookin' in the wrong place, kiddo. Try Foothill Town."

"I don't have enough money for the bus fare. I used what I had to take the bus here,” the bot explained. “Plus, Kifaji might still be waiting for me back in town.”

Kifaji? Must be the brat’s babysitter.

"Well, sorry. Afraid I can't help ya. C'mon, Giddie. Let's get going." Fellow turned and took a few paces. The familiar clumsy footsteps of his little brother didn't follow.

He stopped and glanced back, finding Gidel pawing at the pendant looped around the lion cub's neck. It was beaded with vibrant colors, with a large circular silver medallion and a cerulean feather hanging off of it.

"Oh! You like my necklace?"

Gidel nodded.

"Hehe. Kifaji says it's my special charm. It helps me find my way home when I'm lost." A pause. "Do you wanna try it on since you don't have one?"

Gidel's eyes widened. He reached for his top hat and offered it to the cub. A fair trade, he seemed to suggest.

"Oi, Gidel!" Fellow hissed. "Now's not the time for fun and games!"

His protests went unnoticed, however. The lion cub plopped the top hat on red mane, and Gidel slipped the feathered pendant over his head.

"Ahahah! You look so good in that!"

Gidel shyly waved a hand at the other child. You too.

"Your name's Gidel?" The lion cub gave a huge grin. "I'm Cheka. Let's be friends!"

Shock slipped over his facial features. Friends? Gidel hadn't thought it possible. He moved around too much, could never plant his feet in the ground.

Something in his chest fluttered with excitement. Friends, for real? Could he really have them?

“Oh no, ya don’t!”

Suddenly, Cheka was yanked back by the scruff of his shirt. Gidel, too, fell backward, pulled by Fellow by the sleeve. He had half a mind to scold Gidel for talking to strangers--but his mouth went dry when he met the gaze of another beast.

Green, proud.

"Y-You're...!!"

"Ojitan!!" Cheka squealed in delight.

"Don't 'ojitan' me!" Leona scowled, keeping his grip on the child firm. "You keep runnin' off from your guards like that, and ol' Kifaji will blow a blood vessel. He wouldn't stop spam calling me until I nabbed you for him. You're going back to the old coot ASAP."

"Noooo, I wanted to play with you and my new friend!" Cheka protested, flailing his limbs.

"Not on my watch, you aren't. Kiss your ‘new friend’ good-bye.” Leona glared at the top hat Cheka wore. “And trade that back.”

“Hold on a sec!!” Fellow cried out. “Did you just say this kid has bodyguards?!”

Bodyguards… and related to this pompous NRC student… That means he’s loaded!! Well, at least his parents are. Operation Handsome Ransom is still possible!!

“Heeey, Cheka-kun! How would you like to come over for a playdate with Giddie?” Fellow asked sweetly, honey dripping from his voice as he wrung his hands together. (Gidel looked confused until Fellow elbowed him, forcing the boy to give a vigorous nod.)

Leona narrowed his eyes at the conman. "Nice try, omnivore. That trick won't work on me. Find some other sucker. Cheka, we're leaving."

"Ojitaaan, lemme down! I don’t wanna leave yet!”

"No."

"C-Come back, Cheka-kun! This Uncle Fellow Honest-sama has a neat magic trick to show you!"

“Go away!”

"...!!"

"By the Sevens..." Leona groaned. He could feel a migraine coming on. "Let it go already!!"

[tteokdoroki]

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— phone calls from far away + katsuki bakugou.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — katsuki get's grumpy when he's away from you - but luckily his groomsmen know just who to call to make him feel better.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, crack? smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, guided masturbation, slight praise!kink, pro-hero!bakugou, fem!reader - not beta read !

⭑ words — 2.6K.

⭑ notes — hello my lurvs! i feel like its been ages since i wrote the main man bkg so here's an old wip i found and ended up finishing so i could practise short form! twas picked by you guys! enjoy ! - m.list ✩

“i need you take this phone, drop your panties and have sex with bakugou. now.”

“kaminari— what?” 

you’d just picked up the phone, halfway through a peaceful afternoon relaxing before your own bridal shower in a few days and hadn’t been expecting a call from some of your husband’s closest friends. 

“you heard me! take the phone, take off your underwear and fuck—“ 

“please!” kirishima pleads with you next, looking like he’s about to cry. “he’s driving me insane!” 

“what’s he done now?”

“he’s grumpier than usual, threatened to skin deku alive for chewing too loud and nearly ripped the damn bolt out of my hair when i asked him to pass the salt at breakfast— please, be my saving grace here and have phone sex with your fiancé before he kills us all!” 

you smile and cock your head, picking up the kettle to finish your tea. “that just sounds like regular old katsuki,” kaminari’s bottom lip wobbles and kirishima groans in the background— it was obvious you were their last resort. a guys only holiday for your lover’s bachelor party had been their idea despite your warnings but you did miss katsuki and you were feeling pent up from being away from him. you were sure he felt the same, he was clingy and pouty, threw tantrums when he couldn’t have you. 

“we’re begging you here,” shouto cuts in as he enters the frame— ice cold drink in his hands and his face calm. though his mismatched eyes blaze with stress. “thirty minutes of your time and i’ll let you take a spin in my father’s private jet.” 

you note sero tugging on his hair in the background.

“i thought hush money wasn’t your thing, todoroki.” you’re coy with your words, watching the boys fall into a pit of despair at your boyfriend’s tantrums. 

izuku speaks next, his green eyes large and glassy.  “please.” 

in the end, you relent in amusement and send the boys off to give the phone to bakugou while you make yourself comfortable in your shared bedroom— surrounded by his lingering scent of caramel and sweet musk woven into the threads of the expensive linen sheets the blonde insisted on buying.

you can’t stop your heart from fluttering once your fiancé pops into view— he’s decked out in a lose fitting button down, open to reveal his perfectly cut washboard abs and the expanse of  his skin, slightly golden and tanned from the caribbean sun. katsuki’s luminous red eyes soften as soon as they settle their sights on you, love flickering amongst the darkened flecks that spiral within them. “hi baby, how’s your vacation going?” you sing, sinking back into the blankets and holding your phone up above so that he can get a good view of you.

“awful. these idiots wouldn’t know how to plan a trip outta this damn resort if they tried.” bakugou comments, going quiet as he waits for your laughter. he gets clingier when he’s away, finding himself souring over the fact that he can’t just roll over and bury his face in your neck every morning— instead he’s met with eijirou or stupid izuku trying to drag him out for some bachelor’s fun…when really all katsuki wants is to be with you. “miss you, wish you were here.” 

“i miss you too kats, so much.” with a voice that drips like honey, you lower your tone until it’s sultry— your siren’s song running smoothly through  bakugou’s ears. he quirks a brow at you, recognizing it as he mumbles a quiet ‘yeah?’ “mhm…wanna see how much i’ve missed you, baby?” 

“‘course i wanna see you, pretty girl…” acknowledging his hum as one of approval, you pan your camera down the expanse of your lounging body. using one hand to hike up your (katsuki’s) shirt— revealing plush thighs and a soft tummy and the stretch marks that curl around your waist and curve of your hips. the low groan bakugou lets out from over the line shoots straight down to your clit, the little nub pulsing with need as you drag your fingertips over your skin just like your fiancé would.

both of you develop a hitch in your breath when you hit the waistband of your panties— they’re nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary but katsuki finds the comfort and confidence you have in yourself incredibly sexy. you can tell by the intensity of his stare, ruby gem eyes honed in on your every movement, that he’s hungry for you— like a feral animal that hasn’t eaten in weeks. 

“how bad d’ya wanna see, katsuki?” you ask him shakily, toying with your waist band, hips wiggling as if to prompt an answer out of him. 

bakugou’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, and even though the service on your call isn’t the best, you’re still able to pick up on his ragged and uneven breathing. “you’re killin’ me here, sweetness. show me.” 

“m’kay, let me get you a better view.” 

feeling the flame of desire ignite in your core— you make quick work of propping your phone up against spare pillows and spread your legs either side of the frame. he does the same. there’s a growing wet patch from where your slickness seeps into the crotch of your underwear— obvious to katsuki even from over the screen, painted in darker shades of pixels. you’re so wet that it defines the puffiness of your folds pulsing between the material and for a bit of relief, you slide the length of your middle finger between them, whimpering out your fiancé’s name. 

“that’s it, touch yourself f’me,” the blonde slurs, his eyes hooded and voice hoarse, entranced by the way you slap three fingers against your sticky and clothed cunt. “can you take your panties off too, sweetness? wanna see that pussy ‘n how she’s doin’ without me.” katsuki knows how turned on you get from him watching you, admiring you like you’re a work of art belonging to one of the finest galleries in the world— so he takes it upon himself to guide you softly, command you even when he’s thousands of miles away.

you do as your fiancé says, peeling your panties off despite how thick, clear strings of arousal glue them to your sex before you toss them into the room somewhere. a choked moan rattles around in katsuki’s throat, watching your unused, tiny hole quiver around nothing after being exposed to the cold air— he can’t help but whine next, all high pitched and desperate, wishing it was him who was circling two digits around your entrance and occasionally dipping them into your salacious sex instead of you.

that should be him stretching you out, should be him in his bed— touching up his girl and playing with her swollen clit as blood carrying lust and happy hormones rush to it. “such a…such a good fuckin’ girl for me, baby.” bakugou goads, his eyes damn near rolling back at the sound of your lewd pussy squelching around your fingers echoing around his hotel room. your hips slowly rocking against the palm of your hand so you slowly fuck them into yourself. 

his camera picks up on every detail, the way your cunt glistens with arousal and the way your thighs twitch the more you give yourself— curling your fingers against your soft velvet walls bakugou’s been dying to be inside since the night he left for this stupid fucking bachelors trip. the more he sees you stuff yourself, the more his cock twitches to life and strains against the netting on the inside of his swim shorts, the first spurts of milky precum smearing against it.

before you get too lost in the pleasure, you sit up and pull your fingers from the snugness of your selfish sex and spit onto them as if to give yourself more lube to fuck yourself deeper— taking a break to reel katsuki in.  “take your cock out f’me kats, i know you’re hard.” you say breathless, the tail end of your words tapering off into a quiet sigh while slap down on your soaked pussy for his viewing. “probably so pent up, miss your pretty cock. miss havin’ you inside me.” 

bakugou shudders at your praise, moving quickly to kick off his shorts and letting his aching cock spring free— the length of it smacking against his tummy, precum beading just above his belly button. “i miss you baby. fuck…so sensitive,” he hisses, forming a fist around his shaft, rough palms from his quirk brushing up against the pretty blue veins that wrap all the way around him. you’ll never get over how beautiful his cock is, how beautiful your fiancé is with his skin flushed and shining with a thin layer of sweat— chest heaving rhythmically as whimpering as he touches himself to you and spits in his palm to mimick the wetness of your pussy around him.  bakugou’s cockhead, a bright shade of red, bleeds white against his knuckles while he matches the pace of his hand to your fingers sliding sloppily in and out of your fluttering hole. “rub in circles baby, don’t forget. jus’ like that… jus’ like how i do it.”

pressing a thumb into your clit and dragging the hood of it back, you squeal— seizing up and gushing all at once. “ooh, shit ‘suki!” you stutter, bucking your hips up eagerly to meet your hand— imaging your fiancé stuffing you full instead of your tiny fingers. “w-what do you miss about me, kats? t-tell me baby.” 

“miss…y-your…fuck! you’re so pretty. mm’god, baby…” it’s impossible to focus on anything but your pussy on display for him— your movements syncing up with each other, touching yourselves as if you’re fucking one another. the glisten of your nectar around your fingers only serves to turn the explosive pro hero on even more and he only hopes the view of his precum dripping down his balls and his knuckles has the same effect on you. 

“don’t be shy kats, focus.” 

“miss your skin, s’so soft. your lips on mine. my tongue in your fuckin’ mouth… fuck, your pussy wrapped around me, squeezin’ down on me just like that…” bakugou grunts out over the sound of his fist slapping wetly up and down his dick. “cant wait to get home ‘n sink into your tight little hole, fuck you like your fingers can’t.”

“i should make you wait until after the wedding day. s’what you get for leaving me.” you tease him despite your pout, saliva pooling on your tongue as you just about manage to brush at your g-spot, something katsuki wouldn’t have struggled with if he were here making a mess of you in person. you suppose fucking him over face time would have to do for now. 

“no baby, please. please don’t make me wait, ‘m gonna fuck you so good i promise.” katsuki begs and you believe him, how can you not? with his cheeks all red and face twisted in desperation… perhaps agony from not being able to grind his girth into the deepest parts of you— sufficing with his soiled fist and the memory of you instead. he’s only been away from you a week, but it feels like eternity. “if you wanted to wait until after marriage i’d have put a ring on your finger the day we first fuckin’ met.” he somehow quips, his voice falling just underneath the sound of skin on skin as he pumps himself towards orgasm— matching how you get yourself there with rapid circles on your pleasure nub and fingertips pressed against your g-spot. 

if he were there, you would have cum by now— squealing on his cock like the little princess that you are, your juices running down your inner thighs even more than they are now. the thought of you ruined like that that nearly kills the blonde. 

“are you close katsuki? don’t hold back for me.” the way you say his name and pull him back into the present has bakugou’s hips lifting from the bed in his hotel room, the course pad of his thumb swiping eagerly over his burning cockhead as he rubs his seedy arousal into his sensitive slit.  his fist around his cock mimics the way you would squeeze  down on him every time you curl your fingers in your pretty cunt. 

the pro hero shakes his head, the tips of his ears flushing red too even though it’s grainy from over the face time call. “d-don’t wanna cum without you.” 

it’s not that he doesn’t, it’s that he can’t. katsuki can’t cum unless he’s got his eyes on you, watching every detail and shift of your facial expressions when you’re close— when you’re mewling out for him and crying for his cock just like you are now… except on the other side of the world. he can’t cum unless your body tells him that you’re close too. 

“i’m there baby. let go for me.” it’s your turn to make a promise to him, throwing your head back into the pillows so you can take in bakugou’s scent— picture him rutting into you from above, droplets of sweat running down his forehead as he pounds you into oblivion. the ecstasy running through your system threatens to make the dam burst, the symphony of your moans harmonising over the call only dragging you closer and closer to your highs. “c-cum with me. please.” 

neither of you can hold back, bakugou pumping his dick until it hurts— a raw and needy cry ripping through his sticky chest as his thick load shoots up it, painting him white with his own seed and contrasting against his sun kissed skin. you’re no better, gushing so hard that you force your fingers out of you, clear streams of your juices spewing out of your cunt and soiling the sheets below. 

for a moment, the pair of you lay on call with each other, panting in unison as you come back down to earth. katsuki cleans himself up with a tissue and you lean down to grab your phone, wanting to see him better.

“i really do…fuck… made me cum so much. i really do miss you baby.” he’s the first to speak, his voice gravely from all the cursing and groaning he had been doing but his facial expression soft and satisfied.

“i know. i can’t wait for you to come home, have fun for me okay? i’ll be waiting.” you whisper to him, smitten and longing— mentally counting down the days until he’s back from his bachelors vacation. “no more tantrums. behave.” 

“m’kay sweetness,” bakugou laughs at your warning, rolling his eyes albeit fondly. “drink some water ‘n eat somethin’ good yeah? you always forget if you fall asleep right after you cum.”

“i will. you eat somethin’ too. i love you.” 

“love you more.” 

it takes a while before either of you hang up— clinging onto the few moments you have with one another before one of the boys come looking for katsuki and whisk him away. 

you manage with shaky legs to get up and pee before fixing yourself some cup ramen so you can head to bed for the night on a full stomach ( as your fiancé had wished ).  when you wake up the next day you have several happy texts from kaminari and an attachment, so you rub your eyes to clear your bleary vision to check them. 

kaminari dunce face - 13:52PM: thank you for whatever the fuck you did to kacchan tonight. 

kaminari dunce face - 13:53PM: he’s literally never been nicer.

kaminari dunce face - 13:55PM: (attachment.mp4)

downloading the video, you can’t help but grin— adding the video of katsuki drunkardly hugging deku and singing his love for you in the middle of the resort at night directly to your camera roll.

[lilbitdepressed27]

Jenna Ortega/Fem!BodyGuard

Summary: how you met and got together

Warnings: none I think

WC: 3.6k

Author's Note: hope y'all enjoy and sorry for errors

Being a marine for six years had a been hard as you could imagine. Leaving the marines was such a blessing you had refused to extend your contract any further. Although leaving something you had gotten used to had been a bit more difficult. Getting used to the civilian world had been a lot harder than you had imagine.

Finding a job had been hard. A job you actually liked was even harder. You had a good amount of money saved up from being a marine, but no where near enough to sustain you. Not in this economy.

Sitting in a cafe as you browsed through your emails on your laptop. Hoping to have at least one email addressing you for an interview. But the more you scrolled down the more you were losing hope.

Being an ex marine you were always paying attention to your surroundings. You always noticed when someone new came into the cafe. You knew the college student that was three tables away was struggling as she studied for her exam. The two elderly woman two tables away, closer to the entrance had gotten together for cafe date. A young mom with her toddler son ordered three chocolate shakes with some pancakes. And a woman who was in her late 20's or early 30's standing off to the side of the counter waiting for her two drinks. A caramel latte and honey tea. You were always aware of your surroundings.

So when an older man came into the cafe ordered his drink and stood a little too closely to the woman. Clearly trying to get her attention. Watching as the man tried to flirt with the woman who was clearly uninterested. Seeing how he refused to back down and leave her alone. Going as far as to try to touch her. You stopped what you were doing and stood up to help the woman.

The man was an average height but you were tall and you still had the built from your years in the marines.

"I believe she wants to be left alone."

The man turned to you, faltering for just a second at the height difference. "Mind your business bitch."

You stood straight seeming relaxed as the man tried to seem unbothered by you moving to grab the woman's arm. You had seen this coming so you were able to grab his wrist before he could lay a finger on the woman. Twisting his arm when he tried to punch you. He was now hunched a bit as you lead him to the door. One of the workers opening the door for you. Pushing him out the door.

Turning back towards the woman after making sure the man didn't make a move to come back into the cafe. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, thank you. How'd you do that?"

"Marine training ma'am. I'll let you get back to your day." With a small smile and nod you turned to walk away as the woman's order was called out.

You barely sat back down when the same woman sat in front of you. "Marine? Look I don't know you but my job is looking for a bodyguard. You'll still have to qualify, get a back ground check and all that other stuff. Here is the number. Tell them Jane Rivera referred you." She rushed out as she handed you a card before smiling and leaving.

A bodyguard? No other job was calling, what did you have to lose.

*

You had gotten the job. Now that you had the job they had made you sign contracts. NDA's. Informing you that you would be a bodyguard to an actress. Jenna Ortega. She was an actress that recently started to gain more fame, more exposure to the world. You weren't sure who she was seeing as you were in marines for the past six years. You would be her bodyguard for a year and depending on how you do, the contract could extend.

You were set to meet the actress in a hotel along with Jane who happened to be the actresses manager. Getting dressed into the suit that was the dress code. Just a black suit with a white dress shirt and black tie. You also had a concealed weapon in your suit. Making sure you didn't forget anything. You got out of the your car and made your way to the hotel.

Showing the security the badge Jane gave you and your I.D. At first you would be guarding the actress with another bodyguard. Following Robert (who was the other bodyguard) into the hotel room. The moment the door the room was opened you could hear many different voices.

"Ms.Ortega is getting ready to go to an interview with Jimmy Fallon. You along with Robert will be accompanying her. Robert will drive and you will make sure she gets into the building safely. Her manager Jane Rivera will be with her. So by extension you will also make sure Mrs.Rivera is safe. Any questions?" The older man, Oscar Williams the head of security.

"No sir."

"Good. Now Ms.Ortega likes to meet her new bodyguards. To get familiar with, so when she's finished getting ready. She will want to meet you."

With a nod of understanding, you stepped to the side. A part of you was a little nervous but you had been good at hiding your emotions. You've only ever met one celebrity and that was John Cena. You weren't going to lie you had geeked out with few other Marines when he had visited the base. That day you had not been professional, although you could excuse yourself. You had been a fan of John Cena since he was known as Dr of Thuganomics.

"So you're my new bodyguard."

The voice had you looking to your left. Looking down at the new voice. There stood a beautiful, breath taking brunette. Her eyes a beautiful dark brown. The freckles that littered her cheeks and nose. She was absolutely stunning. Remembering where and why you were here.

"Yes ma'am. My name is-Y/n Y/mn Y/LN. You were in the marines the past six years. You're 24 years old and you have passed the training to be my bodyguard with flying colors I've been told."

Her tone sounded teasing. And based off the smile (lord her dimples were to die for) on her face you knew she was. So with a smile of your own you shook the hand she extended to you.

"I'm Jenna Ortega. It's nice to meet you. And you can drop the ma'am. It makes me feel old."

*

She had seen the profile about the potentially new bodyguard. The moment Jane mentioned it. She had not been able to look away from the picture. Never had she seen y/ec eyes so captivating. She had secretly hoped that the ex marine would get the job. She has worked with pretty attractive women and men. But no one could compare to the ex marines beauty.

The moment she was actually told that the ex marine got the job and she had remember the excitement she had felt. Meeting you in person had been so, she couldn't explain how she felt. When your warm, bit soft and a little rough hand wrapped around her own hand. It had felt the static the moment she touched you. Your beautiful y/ec eyes looked into hers.

She absolutely loved having you by her side. It had also become so easy to become your friend. You were great at protecting her, making sure she was always safe. After the three months passed. You have become her personal bodyguard. You were always with her.

By this time she couldn't deny that she had feelings for you. Every time you had your hand on her, whether it be on her waist leading her away from paparazzi or the times she'd be too drunk out with friends and you would basically have to carry her to the car. Did she fake being drunk at times just so you could carry her. Yes. The butterflies in her stomach would always go crazy.

She had also liked that her fans had also taken a liking towards you. She's even seen the videos of how you protect her. How you were never afraid to push paparazzi who were just a bit too close to her. Or when they'd capture the moments of you giving up your suit jacket to keep her dry when it would rain or just to cover her face so paparazzi couldn't capture her face. The fans had also liked that about you.

And she loved it.

"Jenna, the hotel receptionists failed to book Y/n a room. Y/n will be staying in the motel-She can stay with me." The words were out of her mouth before Jane could even finish.

"Okay. I'll have them bring her suitcase with your stuff." Jane didn't even question it and Jenna was thankful for that. Although she could see the teasing smirk as Jane looked down at her phone.

You were a few feet away from Jenna giving her a moment to talk to Jane while you scoped out the area. There was only seven people in the lobby. Including the two workers. The door man and the receptionist. A mother and father with their three children. The three kids were sleepy. The two youngest being carried by their father and the older one sleepily following his mother into the elevator. It was late. Jane had always preferred to check into a hotel at night. It was always less busy if not mostly empty.

Seeing Jenna beaming as she basically skipped towards you. "You are rooming with me. Some mix up with receptionist. Come on."

*

You were nervous. It was more than nerves. As soon as you walked in to big suite. You were grateful to see a big couch. The hotel room was more of an apartment than it was a hotel room. But you had had gotten used to these type of things by now.

You walked around the room to make sure everything was safe as the bags were left by the door. After making sure everything was normal you walked back towards the front door. Locking it. "Okay Ms.Ortega. I will be taking the couch if you need me."

"Ugh how many times do I have to tell you to call me Jenna."

The groan had you chuckling as you took her luggage to the room. "Is it okay if I shower?"

"Of course. I'm gonna order some room service. I'm starving and yea I know not to open the door. I'm gonna order us some pizza and some wings. Oh! They have fries!"

*

Jenna had walked into the her room to get some change of clothes only to freeze in her steps. The bathroom didn't have a door. It had a curtain but it did absolutely nothing to hide your figure. Which she could see. The bare skin, muscles. She knew you were strong. She could always feel how strong you were when you carried her. Your back muscles tensing as you washed your back. She knew she should look away. But she couldn't. You had the cutest butt.

But really had her almost chocking was when you turned around to face her. Your eyes still closed as you washed shampoo from your hair. Her eyes widening at what she saw hanging in between your legs. Never had she seen something so big so ...thick.

Jumping in fright when there was a knock at the door. She had never moved so quickly to get out of the room. Sitting on the couch as wiped her mouth. She could feel her face growing hotter the more the image burned into her brain.

You walked out of the room in black Nike sweats and white loose t shirt. You looked back to see Jenna watching tv as you opened the door. The food was rolled in your stomach growled at all the food. Thanking the man as he left. You shut the door and locked it.

"Hey I thought you were hungry? Come on, come eat. You ordered sausages? Man these are huge. I don't think ever seen sausages this big." You laughed a little cause they were big.

Jenna though couldn't blush more at the naughty things she was thinking. You were sweet and always so respectful and here she was, she should have never walked into the room.

"Hey you okay?" You handed her a plate that had two slices of her veggie pizza (she had gotten you addicted to a few veggie dishes) some fries, a sausage and wings (also veggie) but she did order you the original wings. (Wings was one veggie dish that she had not got you addicted to).

"Yea I'm just spacing out. Sorry."

"It's okay. Here eat."

The gentle smile you offered her. Was enough to almost make her cry. She felt like a creep. She had completely broke your trust and you didn't even know.

"Okay something is wrong. Talk to me. Is it your ex coworker what his name, is he bothering you again." The moment he had found out he was no longer in the show he had spammed Jenna's phone. Trying just about everything to get back on to the show.

"I'm so sorry. I swear I didn't mean to. I walked into the room while you were in the shower and I didn't know the bathroom didn't have a door. I should have announced myself or something. I'm so sorry I-Hey it's okay. Don't stress hey," You set both plates on the small coffee table and wrapped her into a side hug. Although you could feel your cheeks blazing hot at the fact that Jenna saw you naked.

"No it's not, I co-I said it's okay. I promise. Does it uh..does it make you uncomfortable that I'm...different." You jumped a little at how fast she sat up.

"What?! Of course not. I like you just the way you are."

"Thanks Jen. Now can we eat? I'm really hungry."

*^*

The days that followed had been the same. Well not quite the same. She couldn't stop thinking about you. And as much as she tried she couldn't get seeing you naked out of her mind. The more she thought about she could also vividly remember seeing the scars on your back and front.

"Ms.Ortega? Are you ready to head in?" Your soft raspy voice brought her back to the present. Seeing you in your familiar suit was always such a sight to see. Now that she knew it was there she could see the faint outline of your-"Jenna?"

"Yea sorry. I'm ready." Her cheeks a dash more pink than before as she accepted your hand to help her out of the suv. She walked only a few inches in front of you as you walked her to the entrance of the building. The party she was arriving at was one for the movie she had filmed with Percy White. The movie had done as expected for a Prime video movie. She couldn't deny that she had hated every second filming that movie.

With being in the safety of the party that was greatly guarded. She reluctantly left your side as she was pulled away by one of her costars from the movie. As the party went on her eyes always found yours in crowd. Often shooting her an adorable little smile every time her eyes connected with yours. It made her heart pick up it's pace every single time.

"Jenna. Hey! It's been so long."

She hated how touchy Percy had always been. She had never wanted to be rude but the amount of times she's said she hated being touched or hugged without permission was enough for anyone to get the message. So with a small nudge at the taller boy. She took a step back. Only for the tall boy to get closer. Then did she realize that he was a bit drunk.

"Percy. I was just leaving." She took another step back, just for him to take another step forward.

"What? Don't leave. Or you know I could go with you. How about you talk to Tim. Ask him if I can come back on the show."

"I can't Percy he's made up his mind-Bull shit. You're the star of the show. He'll listen to you." He hissed, anger evident in his eyes. Taking another step back, this time into a familiar chest. Her shoulders relaxing, she didn't even have to turn around to know who was behind her.

You had seen how aggressive the actor was becoming, you were never too far from the short actress. Always making sure to keep her safe. To do your job. 

"Is there a problem here Ms.Ortega?"

The anger coming off the actor was coming off him in waves. "None of your business, me and jenna are having a conversation that doesn't involve a nobody like you." Moving forward to try and push you. His hand coming to your shoulder. You had swiftly moved the short actress behind you. His hand came in contact with your shoulder. Clumsily, you not moving an inch just happened to fuel his anger. You knew you couldn't do anything to him. Not without getting in big trouble with your boss. And you weren't talking about Jenna.

So when he threw a sloppy weak punch you didn't stop him. As soon as he fist connected with your lip. The chaos that followed was a bit unexpected. You in no way expected for Jenna to come from behind you and return the punch. Making the tall already unstable actor fall from the sudden punch. You were quick to wrap your arms around her waist. Thankful that there were no cameras allowed into the party.

Taking the brunette to suv through the back down to the garages. Only letting go to open the back door to the sub. The driver was notified by you of the possibility of leaving a bit early. Once being in the safety of the suv. Jenna was quick to check on you.

"That asshole. How dare he hurt you. He was so out of line. Wait until I get of hold of some people. He won't even get a job at McD-I'm fine Ms.Ortega. He has a weak punch." You said with a smile. Your lip only had a small cut a bit of blood but not that much.

Upon seeing the blood Jenna dug into her purse, taking out a napkin. It wasn't long till you both arrived to her apartment. Jenna thanked the driver and pulled you out of the suv.

"I'm gonna get you an ice pack. So that doesn't get as swollen. Take a seat." Throwing her bag on to the counter after locking the front door. With you being her bodyguard and a close friend. It wasn't as strange to have you in her apartment. She had grown (quite quickly) used to having you by her side.

She sat next to you, gently slapping your hands away so she could hold the ice pack on your lip. "You shouldn't have let him hit you." She looked down at your lips. That punch would leave a bruise, her throat felt dry as she also took in how close her face was to yours.

You also couldn't look away from her lips. You couldn't lie and say you've never thought about kissing her. But it would be completely unprofessional.

The moment Jenna looked into your eyes it was like everything was falling into place. There was no need to say anything. She couldn't wait any longer. Taking the moment and  doing what she's been wanting to do for that past five and half months. The feeling of your lips had been everything and more. The kiss had started off tentative. But when she realized you weren't pulling away. She moved out of her uncomfortable spot of being sat to your side and moved on to your lap. Feeling your strong arms wrapping themselves around her waist. Pulling her closer to your chest. She deepened the kiss her own hands cupping your cheeks to bring you even closer.

Finally being able to release all the pent up emotions she had felt since first meeting you. Your lips sent waves of warmth through her veins and chest. She couldn't get enough. She didn't even realize how deep into the kiss she was until she realized she had slowly began to grind on your lap. Feeling you begin to harden.

She couldn't control her gaze as she looked down. Even with your black dress pants. She could see bulge getting bigger. The need and desire were growing. Remember how amazing it felt to grind on you. Looking back up to see your cheeks flushed. An adorable sight to see.

"Uh sorry. I can't really control it."

"It's okay. I like you Y/n. A lot. I wanna give us a chance."

"I like you a lot to Jenna. But how would this work? I mean-It will work. I don't plan to let you go. You're stuck with me." She truly did not plan to let you go. She could now no longer picture you not being in her life.

:)

[v6quewrlds]

if ur comfortable, could u write tee or joe with a AKA girlfriend? love ur work 💗

had to respond to this immediately because yes of course i will bae <3

1908, ALPHA KAPPA ALPHA

A week ago, you had casually mentioned to Joe that you were inviting two of your sorority sisters to stay for the weekend. Joe, bless his heart, had insisted on coming along with you to pick them up. You two had never crossed paths at Ohio State during your time there, but he had heard enough stories to know your sorors were a force to be reckoned with.

The moment the sliding doors parted and your friends emerged, you knew you had nothing to worry about. Kia and Taylor, both equally as radiant as the day you met them, strutted out of the arrivals terminal. You practically leaped out of the car, your face lighting up with joy, and the three of you embraced in a reunion filled with squeals and laughter. The years hadn't changed you; you were still the inseparable trio from the Theta Chapter of Alpha Kappa Alpha, your bond as strong as ever.

Kia, a petite lawyer with glowing caramel skin and an infectious laugh, spotted Joe first. "Ain't that your man?" she exclaimed, pointing to the tall, visibly nervous figure as he leaned against the car. "Look at that color!" Your two friends giggled, noticing Joe's ill-fated fashion choice.

Taylor almost floated over to the car. "Joe," she called out, her voice carrying over the airport crowd, "we see you tryna rep!"

Your eyebrows furrowed as you followed Kia's gaze to Joe, who was indeed wearing a pink polo shirt. "Oh my god," you murmured to yourself, "I didn't even realize." You had told Joe to wear something that would make a good impression, but apparently, he had misunderstood your instructions.

Your friends couldn't contain their laughter as they approached the car. "Joe, honey," Taylor said, her voice thick with amusement, "are you gonna pledge?"

Joe looked down at his shirt, the realization dawned on him, and his cheeks flushed pinker than the fabric. Kia and Taylor couldn't hold it in any longer, bursting into laughter as Joe looked up, his blue eyes wide with embarrassment.

"Well," Kia managed through her giggles, "you're definitely supportive. And that's all we want for our girl."

You stepped in, placing a reassuring hand on Joe's shoulder. "It's okay, baby," you said, your voice warm with affection. "You look hot in pink."

Joe rolled his eyes, but his tension visibly eased. "Thanks," he mumbled shyly, his sarcasm not quite as sharp as usual. "I'll take your bags."

As he loaded their luggage into the trunk, your friends couldn't stop teasing him about his outfit. "You know, Joe," Kia said, winking, "we might just have to give you a little something for this. Maybe an honorary pin or something."

Joe chuckled, trying to play along. "Yeah, sure," he replied, "just be patient with me. I'm still learning the strolls."

As Kia and Taylor huddled into the backseat, you reached for Joe's hand, stopping him as he closed the trunk of the car. "Thank you," you said, your eyes full of genuine gratitude.

Joe's smile grew genuine, the awkwardness fading away. "Anything for you," he replied, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. You leaned in to kiss him before sliding into the driver's seat.

[saltnsugarbear]

you remind me just how good it can get

summary: you and Richie take Eva to the pumpkin patch!

title from: "I'm With You" by Vance Joy

word count: 1.1k

content warnings: just cutesy fluff <3

dividers by @strangergraphics

Eva is chaotic today. It had been a hassle to get her into the car, making sure she had her bag ready and buckling her in. Richie had filled her head with ideas of caramel-covered apples, and she'd been unstoppable since.

"You are an asshole.." You tell Richie softly when you close the car door. There's no heat in your voice, and Richie places a kiss on your cheek by way of apology.

"Sorry, sweetheart, didn't think she'd get that excited.." Richie mutters as he leads you to the passenger side of the car.

"Yeah, yeah.." You tell him, giving him a quick kiss when he opens your door. Richie chuckles as you slip into the car, closing the door behind you. You watch him walk around the hood of the car while you buckle in. He climbs into the driver side, starting the car before doing his own seat belt.

"Ready to roll?" Richie asks, glancing at Eva in the rearview window.

"Yeah!" Eva cheers, head turning to look at her father. Richie glances at you, and you nod with less enthusiasm than Eva has.

"Alright, let's roll." Richie says as he puts the car in reverse. "Let's get this show on the road."

"Are you sure Tiff doesn't mind us taking Eva?" You asked for what was probably the hundredth time. You just wanted to be on good terms with Eva's mom, and you knew Richie to be impulsive, so it's a fair question.

"Yes, babe. She and Frank are gonna do... I don't fuckin' know but she said it was fine. Asked her every time you asked to be even more sure." Richie assured you, grabbing your hand to giving it a squeeze.

"Okay.." You mutter, bringing your free hand to fidget with your necklace. Richie sighs beside you, placing a kiss to your temple.

"Promise she gave the okay, sweetheart. Wouldn't put you in a position with her.." Richie tells you softly. This time, you feel a little more assured, exhaling heavily.

"Okie dokie, babe.." You nod, placing a kiss to his scruffy jaw.

"Daddy, daddy!" Eva interrupts, running over to you both. You and Richie turn to look at her as she stops in front of you. She has a few papers in her hands, a few crumpled by how tightly she's holding onto them. "Look, Daddy."

Eva hands him one of the papers. It ends up being a map of the farm, showing you everything you guys need to know. The map is colorful, highlighting the different vendors to get food at and the designated kids' play area or some of the other activities they have around.

"They have a corn maze, Daddy. Look!" Eva stands on her tip toes to try and peak at the map, pointing her finger widely at a section.

She's not far off, despite not being able to fully see the map. You spot the maze she's talking about, pointing it out for Richie to see for himself. While he's taking it in, you lean down to scoop Eva up, bringing her close to your chest as you both look over the map in Richie's hands.

"I don't know, honey... Might be one of those scary ones for big kids.." Richie says, running a hand over his chin as he thinks.

"I can be a big kid!" Eva says quickly, looking over at you. "I can be a big kid, right, sweetheart?"

The nickname makes your heart tug. Eva had been struggling with all the changes in both her parents' lives to understand how these two new people fit in with them. Where she called Frank 'Waldo', Eva liked to call you 'sweetheart' given how much Richie did. She assumed it was okay, and it was. It was better than asshole or bitch so you counted it as a win.

"I don't know, E.." You sigh, looking at the map for yourself. "Maybe we do the hayride instead?"

Eva pouts slightly when those words come out of your mouth, making your heart tug again.

"Here, let's switch," you say to Richie, preparing Eva for a hand off. Richie replaces your hands with his and hands you the map when you hand over Eva. Richie grunts as he sets her on his hip, sighing heavily.

"Get too big to carry, I think.." Richie mutters teasingly.

"Getting too old to carry me, I think..." Eva responds. It shocks a laugh from you, quickly covering your mouth with the map so neither of them can see your smile.

"Woah, kiddo!" Richie gasps, placing a hand to his heart dramatically. "Words can hurt!"

Eva shrugs, looking over at your map now that she's got a higher view. You look over it, taking in all the attractions. Flipping it over, you spot some of the ones listed as later, when it's dark and the kids are in bed, marketed for adults coming to the farm with friends. Along the list of night activities, you spot where it says it becomes a haunted corn maze after sundown.

"Okay, okay," you start. "So, it doesn't become a big kid corn maze until nighttime."

Eva gasps excitedly, watching you with wide eyes.

"But we're gonna have some rules," you say. "And if you break the rules, we're turning around, no exceptions. Got it?"

Eva nods quickly, hanging onto your every word. When you glance at Richie, he nods encouragingly. You don't want to impose but if he's giving you permission...

"No leaving our sights, if there's a turn you wait for us to get there, you need to be on your best behavior because there's gonna be other people in there too and we don't want to ruin their experience either." Eva hangs onto your every word, nodding as you list off the terms. Richie nods as well, like he plans on running around the corn maze like a five year old as well.

"Anything else to add, dad?" you ask Richie.

"Nope," Richie says, shaking his head. "Think you got it all."

You nod, looking at Eva. "Pinky promise to be on your best behavior?"

Eva nods quickly, holding out her pinky for you. You link your pinky's together, shaking them together like a hand shake.

"Okay, now let's switch again so we can give the old man a break." You hold your arms off for Richie to pass Eva over. Richie scoffs, giving you his daughter and taking the map from your hand. He puts the maps in his back pocket before slipping a finger into one of the belt loops on the side of your pants.

"Thank you..." Eva whispers softly as she rests her head against yours.

"You're welcome," you whisper back, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before letting her rest her forehead with yours again.

Richie places a quick kiss on the crown of both of your heads.

He got lucky with you two.

[romance-rambles]

au - magic/knight!alkaid | can i ask: do you love me?

By a series of accidents involving love potions and cookies, you end up with a boyfriend.

k, fluff + one (1) background relationship, mentions of angst, accidental usage of love potions, reader is mc, series: none

WHEN IT COMES TO THE morality of love potions, there is usually no universally-agreed upon answer, in large part due to the sheer variance in what, exactly, constitutes such a thing.

The law, however, is as full of loopholes as it can be—as long as it doesn't seem to talk, walk, or act like a drug capable of inducing others to fall in love with you, it isn't. And so, if such a thing were to ever find its way into someone's food, it technically wouldn't be a crime.

Then where, you wonder, does the present situation fall under?

With horror twisting your lips into a grimace, you gaze silently at the empty tray of cookies, sat upon the table unsuspectingly. No crumbs remain on its surface, though that speaks more to the character of the man who accidentally devoured them than any skill on your part. Alkaid has always been like this, even when your delicious cookies were nothing more than chunks of coal.

Despite the conclusions you manage to draw so easily, a question—one qualified enough to be called idiotic—slips out of you.

"Did you…" You swallow the lump in your throat. "Did you eat all of these cookies?"

Alkaid chuckles, smiling warmly. "Of course. They were as delicious as always."

On the topic of love potions, sweet in taste as they are, they tend to be amber in color. Sugar turned into caramel, or honey gleaming in the sunlight, as your friend once described it. A treat perfectly suited to her tastes.

Food dye is what brings out the pink hue oft associated with love, and the association is such that there are those who believe that love potions in any other color are simply…

Defective.

It was this same association that led Ehlonna—who came to you in tears, her once-in-a-lifetime request as much a paradox of selfishness and selflessness as she herself was—to request a more natural approach. As the soon-to-be Princess of Leighton, even so much as a hint that a love potion existed in her possession could not only be damaging to her reputation, but would incite needless worry in her brother and father.

Her brother who has just inhaled a plate full of cookies made accidentally with the love potion you crafted for her.

You don't scream. For one, you can't scream, but it is a near thing. The devil whispers in your ear, isn't this a good thing? And it takes a frightening amount of time for your conscience to talk you down.

This is why you don't play around with love potions.

"That's good." An awkward smile. An even more awkward silence. "And you feel okay? They didn't taste…funny?"

The love of your life laughs again. You think it's deserved, a little. A lot. It takes the embarrassing sting off the joke that is your current existence. How does one accidentally put a love potion in a batch of cookies? They run out of sugar and attempt to make due with honey.

How does one mistake a love potion for honey? They put it in an inconspicuous jar and wake up to bake at three in the morning. All because of a nightmare, one as equally like to come true as the opposite, where the groom looked suspiciously like the man in front of you and a blob of colors substituted as the bride.

"Have more faith in your baking," he says gently, holding his teacup to his lips.

On average, knights are not the best at holding their own against magic of any sort. But Alkaid bucks the trend by being startlingly difficult to hex, which, by all accounts, should bode well for him.

Except for the fact that he did, in fact, succumb to the last potion you tested on him. Trust, after all, is a powerful thing. It knocked him out for a week, and when he woke up, it was to the sight of your inconsolable form at his bedside. Even his own family wasn't half as concerned, though his father did advise against using him as a test subject in the future.

"I do," you say numbly, resting your arm atop the chair. Soon enough, it is your entire body that the wooden dining chair—one older than even you—must support. "I really do…"

His amused smile fades, making way for an expression full of concern. Setting the teacup down, he asks, "Has something happened?"

You exhale.

Ordinarily, you would confess everything to him. But everything entails secrets that are not yours to give away. Like the part about Ehlonna nearly taking a lover, for one. How the prospect of marrying for duty terrifies her enough that she would sooner numb herself to the world. How the love of her life vanished at the start of the month, the only proof of his existence being the whispers of the townsfolk and the songs the children sing.

So, you play around with the truth instead, to the best of your ability.

"I think…" You slip onto the seat in front of you with a sigh and a careful bite of your lip. "I think I poured a truth serum into those cookies. It's not where I keep it anymore."

But no one said it'd be a good lie.

His eyebrows nearly disappear under his bangs. You've always appreciated the siblings' willingness to go along with whatever excuses you offer them. Call it gullibility, as some people do, but you think it veers on blind faith.

Whatever questions he has sit on the tip of his tongue—then he swallows them back down and places a hand over his forehead. Gently moving the tray to the side, you lean in close, upper body crossing half the table as you wait your turn.

Alkaid has always made note of your hands. How they often run cold, instead of warm. The telltale increase in body temperature that results from love potions, then, could be obfuscated by that fact.

Frustration knits your eyebrows together. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you ask:

"Do you feel like telling me anything?"

"Not particularly," he answers, looking concerned. For you, you suspect. Then, he takes your hands and squeezes them gently. "It's been a long time since that day. It isn't out of the realm of possibility that I've gained some resistance since then."

Your expression tells him all you'd like him to know. It wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility—if he was anyone else. You'd love to give him some other potion to prove your point, but you can't risk him getting knocked out before the delegation for the Kingdom of Leighton comes knocking on Eden's door for their new princess.

Which is…

Two days from now.

You feel yourself breaking into cold sweat again. The potion takes a month to make.

And Ehlonna is nice. Ehlonna is understanding. Ehlonna is your best friend, and with love troubles of her own under her belt, she will surely understand your circumstances. There's nothing to forgive, her saintly voice echoes in your mind.

On her part, sure.

On your part? Absolutely not.

The smile on your lips grows forced. At the same time, Alkaid reaches out and brushes your bangs out of your face—and you'd love to draw conclusions, but he's always been like this.

"Alright, why don't you ask me a question?" he proposes, half-exasperatedly. "If you've wanted to ask anything at all, now's your chance."

Do you love me?

You swallow the lump in your throat with great difficulty. "What's your favorite color?"

"Green." A lie. The answer is purple.

"What's your favorite season?"

"Summer." A lie. The answer is undetermined—his usual line is, Spring is the season flowers bloom, but Winter is the season we met.

"What's your favorite food?"

"Whatever you and Ehlonna make." A truth. He'd have to be the liar of a lifetime if it wasn't.

This back-and-forth continues for a while longer, his initial reason for visiting nearly forgotten by both of them. It's not as though they'd made any progress on coming up with a fun night for Ehlonna anyways. You'd preemptively rejected places that were sure to remind her of Yin, which left the two of you with almost no options in the nearby town.

Eventually, you run out of questions, but the soft smile on Alkaid's lips does not fade. The devil whispers in your ear, and, for some reason, he sounds a bit like Yin, Ask: do you love me?

You opt for a slightly different question. "Is there a girl you like?"

His eyebrows furrow at the question, and his lips purse. He looks a bit uncomfortable, really. But it's only for a brief moment before he smiles again.

"Yes." A statement, undetermined.

Taking a deep breath, you ask, "Is that a truth or a lie?"

"Which one would you rather it be?" he counters.

Silence engulfs the home you inherited from your mother. It's deep in the forest near Eden's capital, with enchantments cast specifically to keep it hidden from unwanted guests. If someone wants to commission you for a magical product, they must ask during your business hours, at the quaint little art store you own.

The lavender walls of the dining room seem quite intriguing, all of a sudden—even to an eye like yours, which has seen them since birth. There's a few scratches on the table from when you were a child, and the chair slats feel more uncomfortable that usual when you lean back against them.

It would be easy enough to pick the first option, you think. But if the end result is anything like your dream…

Eden—more specifically, you—can only handle one broken-hearted mage right now.

"Who is it?" you eventually spit out, to the tune of your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. Regret instantly floods your veins, but it's too late to back out. Your mother did not raise a coward, nor did she raise someone unaffected by sunk-cost.

"She's…" He pauses, seemingly at a loss for words. "Wonderful. Kind. The most beautiful woman in the world—"

You wonder if you can tune him out.

You wonder if you should.

Every little compliment functions like a dagger, repeatedly stabbing you in the heart. Even so, you count each one and wonder, Could that be me? Who else does Alkaid know who sometimes eats like a slob? You're not proud of it, but hunger often has a way of making you forgo niceties.

And it can't be his cat, either. Sparkles, despite his name, is not a girl.

"Is she sitting in front of you?" you blurt out finally, when it seems like he's about to stop. Then, to make up for your mistake, you bury your head in your hands and pray this ritual grants you invisibility.

"How'd you know?"

When you look up, Alkaid is smiling his usual gentle smile.

THERE IS A LITTLE FOOTNOTE in the banned potion's textbook that provided the recipe for this love potion. You learn about it that night, after pulling the book out of your shelf to occupy your sleepless night in a productive manner.

Half of it is written in a handwriting you've only ever seen in letters your father wrote before his untimely death—the one you modeled the curves of your alphabet after. The other half is written in your mother's handwriting, still in cursive, but with a definitive air of practicality to it, in that it would nearly be illegible to anyone else but you.

It says:

A love potion will not go into effect if the target of the ingester's affection and the first person they see are one and the same. In rare cases, with sufficient willpower, if the two people are separate, the ingester will be able to overcome its effects.

Biting your lips has no effect on your ever-growing smile. Neither does the prospect of having to tell Ehlonna about your mistake dampen your excitement about today's events.

Perhaps that makes you a bad friend. Perhaps wondering if the love potion would've failed anyway, owing to Ehlonna and her brother having an incredible willpower, makes you a bad friend too. In any case, in the following days, it ceases to matter, because your hunch about Ehlonna's fate happens to be correct.

Just not in the form you expected.

When you finally show her and her new husband the textbook—smuggling it into the manor carefully and quietly, though the Duke tends to turn a blind eye to your shenanigans—on the day after their wedding, the three of you can only laugh, as you did in the old days.

— happy (very) belated birthday to @chiefcroissantdeanbanana

[mystra-midnight]

i’d like to order a caramel macchiatooo!

how do you think rockstar!eddie would react to you suggesting an ffm threesome…except he gets to sit back and watch?

Thank you so much for sending in an order, sweet nonnie, and I hope you enjoy your tasty drink! ily <3 <3

Just a little fyi, I'm basing this off rockstar!eddie from 'Call Me Little Sunshine' even though I haven’t released the next part yet, I hope that’s okay. I also got a little carried away, but sorry not sorry. <3 <3

Boy, oh boy, let me tell you.

You being the one to suggest a threesome leaves him floored; basically speechless, but damn if he isn't so turned on by the idea!

His sweet girl who can hardly look him in the eye when he's flirting and telling you how pretty you are.

His sweet girl who was a virgin until a few months ago.

If you suggested inviting some gangbanger or roadie in, he might not be interested; he's possessive, after all.

But if it was with someone you both knew? Maybe Chrissy or Robin? He would be all over that, like bees to honey. 

Everyone probably assumes he'd be an eager beaver, maybe dominating and controlling the moment. He thought that about himself, to be fair.

Except.

When it actually happens, he is just entranced.

He'd just watch the two of you kiss, the way your lips move so slowly, so softly, so fucking sinfully. The way you sigh into her mouth and the way she swallows the sound.

It's different from how you are with him.

With him, sure, you're soft, submissive to his dominance and the possessiveness he exudes, giving him all your firsts like a good girl.

But with her, you're soft in a different way, so pliant, and it's so fucking intense seeing her kiss you that he just watches and listens to those pretty sighs spilling from your lips.

Eddie would be in the corner of the room or at the end of the bed with his cock in his hand, stroking it slowly, grunting softly. He'd be so fucking hard: his cock would be aching as much as his heart.

"Fuck, baby", he'd groan when you cum for the first time, thighs shaking, chest heaving. It would be the hottest thing he's ever seen, and he could only imagine how wet you are now, and maybe he's just a little envious and a little jealous.

And when it’s your turn to be in control? His sweet girl who hadn’t even touched a cock before him, let alone a pussy? You bet he’d be there to help you.

You’d look at him with those wide eyes, so fucking eager but so unsure.

So he’d tell you what to do.

“Kiss her neck, baby, that’s it, she likes that.” He’d tell you, fisting his cock faster as you moved down her neck, watching as you kissed between the valley of her tits, leaving her skin shining in the low lights of the bedroom.

You’d close your lips around one of her nipples, and she’d arch into you, and you’d hear Eddie groan from across the room because fuck if you aren’t the hottest he’s ever seen you. Nervous and skittish, but coming out of your shell and into your element.

There would be a line of spit connecting her nipple to your lips as you switched breasts, giving the other one the same treatment until both stood hard and erect. 

“Touch her,” Eddie would encourage softly, not wanting to pull you out of the moment but so desperate to see more. And like a good fucking girl, you’d oblige.

Your hand moving between your bodies, fingertips moving between her pussy lips, coming away wet and shiny because she’s just as turned on as you, just as turned on as him.

He wouldn’t have to tell you to put them in your mouth; you know what he likes. You’d lick them clean, moaning the entire time, never once breaking eye contact with him from across the room.

And when you finally, fucking finally, moved down her body, you’d find her dripping. You would be pleasantly smug about how Eddie had nothing to say. He’d be caught up in the moment, transfixed by the way you nibbled on her inner thighs before moving to the apex of her.

You’d give her exactly what she’d given you — one of the best orgasms of her life.

Two fingers in her tight hole, your tongue on her clit, fucking her, stretching her, all the while, he’d be groaning from across the room until he came with a guttural groan.

But the second time it happens? The third? You can bet your bottom dollar he's doing more than watching.

He'd be like a druggie, addicted to the soft and sweet way you are with her, but how you crave his touch, his taste, him, even when she's got her head between your legs, lapping your arousal from your pussy with gentle licks.

He'd love everything about it, but he'd have to remind you, and her, who you belong to.

So he'd put you on your knees, his body shadowed over yours, nose at your cheek as you go down on her. 

Eddie would be rocking his hips in a lazy rhythm, barely easing out of your pussy before surging into you; the control gets him off, the way he overwhelms you until he consumes your thoughts.

And each time you stop to moan, the other woman momentarily forgotten, he'd lean down to growl in your ear, his voice condescending and mocking, but fuck if that doesn't just make you squeeze his cock like a desperate whore. 

"Keep going", he'd say, fingers threading in your hair so he could push your face between her legs again and press your mouth against her wet slit. And he wouldn't let you escape, would hold you there. "You're the one who doesn't want to share my cock, sweetness. You gotta make her feel good too."

And even though you'd whine, you know it's true. The thought of him fucking her instead of you is distressing, so you work her over with your mouth, your tongue, and your fingers while he consumes every piece of your innocence.

So you'd do what you're told because you're his good girl.

And he’d reward you by snapping his hips against your ass, skin-hitting skin, a repeated slap, slap, slap. 

You would be boneless. Your eyes would be glossy, cock-drunk, and fucked out. You’d have no words, nothing else to give him except needy whimpering as you eat her out, fingering her, lapping the juice from her pussy like it was ambrosia, the drink of the gods.

Eddie would love every fucking second of it.

Every thrust of his cock would make a pornographic sound because you’d be so fucking wet. Every swipe of your tongue would make her sing. It would be filthy, and indecent, and so fucking hot.

And when you're all finished, worn out, sweaty and exhausted, he’d already be thinking about the next time.

—interested in joining? check out the menu and send in your order!

[no-sleep-fox]

Did a lil doodle of @novalizinpeace Smiling Critters au Kickin Callem and Dogday Nell art for when I had talked (on anon) about accidentally calling Callem caramel and Nell being called honey. And that whole "honey I'm home" meme or whatever from like- idk- 2019 or something came to mind at some point and I just had to draw that.

Honestly had some fun drawing them together (especially Nell since he was a bit easier). Gosh I've fallen for this ship in Nova's au so hard— gonna probably draw them together a bit more whenever I'm not working on my own PPT Smiling Critters au designs. Either way- have this bit of fanart for the au. 😊

Small tw: there is a bit of blood (though not colored—)

Decided to post this on it's own since when I first did it, I realized that I forgot a small tw and stuff so oof— yeah— 😅