#he was so healthy and strong why didn’t he bounce back???

[likesplatterpaint]

Would Louie forgive me?

Absolutely. In a heartbeat. Loubie loved me.

Will I ever forgive em myself?

I’m not sure.

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Can I ask for a gn! Yuu that has very long hair like atleast that's touch the ground?

No need to do the request do ill wait and

P.s. I love your monster au❤❤❤

Awww, thank you! If I had to say, I think my Monster!AU is my most popular AU so far 😂 It’s just so much fun, and while I love doing the worldbuilding, the wholesome silliness and found family vibes just always get me ;;v;;

Anyway, you most certainly can! I couldn’t help but get flashbacks to my high school years when my best friend would call me Rapunzel because of how long my hair was…and the sheer panic and horror she felt when I came to school one day after getting a haircut and my hair was up to my jaw. Don’t worry, it grew back! I’ve only had it cut that short once, but never again. :V It took three years to get it back down my spine. >.>

So while you asked for a gn!Yuu with long hair (and I’m assuming it’s in Monster!AU), you didn’t necessarily specify any scenario, so I hope you enjoy the random silliness based on my experiences with critters and long hair! >w<

////

When Yuu was finally able to get out of the ceremonial robes and into more comfortable clothes on the first night in Ramshackle, it came as quite a shock to Grim and the ghosts when they unwrapped their hair to the point the tips touched the ground. Given how dirty it was, however, Yuu had to quickly tie up their hair to keep it away from the dust.

“Where did you put all that?!” Grim asked, patting a paw against their hair as they tried to run their fingers through the long strands. “Why is it so long?!”

“Because I wanted it to be long?” Yuu replied with a shrug.

“Oh…do all humans have long hair?”

Despite being a chaotic gremlin in the beginning, Grim is more curious about the length and texture of Yuu’s hair than anything. At some point he realizes just how warm it is and will often be found practically wrapped up in it, snoozing away and just enjoying the comforting scent of their shampoo.

And then there were the monster students.

Hair is not a foreign concept by any means to these monsters, though the fact that there was someone who had hair this long? It reminded so many of those who knew the story of the Sun Kingdom and the princess with long hair who used incantations on a golden flower to bring her lover back from the dead!

“…your hair doesn’t glow, does it?” Ace asked, bouncing Yuu’s hair in his hands as he held it up to see it in the light.

“If it starts glowing, feel free to freak out, because I sure will!”

An issue that they came across, however, was how often the long strands got caught underfoot by monsters near them. More than once did their head jerk back because someone happened to step on it, whether they were trying to stand up or move to another spot. It happened more than once to the point Yuu’s neck started to hurt from the frequency. Such things didn’t go unnoticed by a certain unicorn…

“Honestly, you’re going to ruin your hair and your posture if you keep letting it drag on the floor like a mop,” Vil scolded them, the unicorn’s lion-like tail swishing in agitation as he worked through the newly formed knots.

“I can just put it up in a ponytail or a bun,” Yuu told him. “It’s no big deal.”

“Absolutely not! If you’re going to keep your hair this long, then at least do something more presentable and functional to keep it healthy and strong.”

So began the long process of Yuu having to sit through lessons on hair care from Vil. They watched as he worked in the mirror to fashion their hair into new styles, referencing videos he’d watched online and resources for hair that closely fit their own to ensure he knows how to care for and teach Yuu. They listened as he instructed them on how to braid or twist their hair into styles they never even considered, and before long they were walking out of Pomefiore with hair care samples and a long, thick braid that hung at the back of their knees. It was a little heavier than they were used to, but not unmanageable.

It certainly made it easier to dance and run after their friends when a certain gremlin chimera got up to mischief!

When Cheka comes to visit, Yuu can’t help but notice how much he acted like a kitten that they just…couldn’t help but let him play with their hair. It was adorable to watch at first, but—like all things in Twisted Wonderland—something inevitably goes wrong.

“How did he get tangled up in your hair this badly??” Jack asked as he tried to figure out how to unravel the giggling child from their hair.

“Ow…Cheka was just so cute playing, and I only looked away for a second,” Yuu said, their hands on their scalp to keep the tugging at a minimum. “I didn’t think he’d get tangled up like this!”

“Halp!” Grim cried out, squirming around Yuu’s hair as well.

“Ow ow ow ow! Grim, stop! You’re pulling on my scalp!”

“I’m starting to think that human hair is used to trap prey,” Ruggie commented with a snicker, though his fingers were still combing through and untangling the hair quicker and easier than Jack.

After all is said and done, Yuu’s hair is quite fascinating even to Cater’s Magicam followers, leading to some crazy hairstyles and designs to be created (and lots and lots of safe hair dye and hair spray to be used). If Yuu wants to use a rainbow of colors or specific ones for their hair, Vil and Professor Crewel will find ways to help do so without damaging the roots or strands with harsh dyes or bleach!

Straight? Curly? Wavy? Dreadlocks? Afros? Any style and texture of hair a human could have! Imagine the possibilities with styles and colors in a world where Yuu can literally ask someone to use magic to see how something would look! And there wouldn’t be any issue with returning it to normal because magic~!!

Kudos to those of you who are able to confidently dye your hair wonderful colors, I love seeing the hues that can be done ;;v;; I'm too chicken to do it to my own hair, so I live vicariously through seeing others do it. 😃

Anyway, that’s all I can think of off the top of my head! Hope you guys enjoy! >v<

[that1fangirrl]

Dating a Ballet Dancer...

Cw: some 18+,food mentions

A/N: This was honestly so adorable to me. I think I might write so more for it later on. If you have any ideas for this or other concepts, my inbox is always open. Enjoy!

He does not understand why ballerinas wear so many layers to practice. Especially because they are mostly thin and mesh garments, but with leg warmers

Yoga and stretch “dates”

Forcing her to eat more food so she can build up strength… or at least him sneaking a few snacks in her bag before she leaves for practice

Helping her stay in shape and healthy always

Something tells me he’d be curious to try a move… maybe stick to plié or tendu. Just like small footwork. Nothing extreme

He probably helps her with choreography. His enhanced senses pick up on slight changes so i definitely see him being like “oh that pirouette wasn’t as strong” or “your elbows aren’t tucked in right”

He doesn’t seem like a nervous person, but knowing with any sport you can get hurt has him on edge all the time. “What if you don’t land right and break an ankle?”

But he’s fairly confident in his babygirl… she's a professional after all

He's a huge stickler when it comes to her health. I know I said it before, but he's constantly watching what she eats, how much sleep and rest she gets. Cause he knows what the body needs to feel good and function better

Maybe it even motivates him to be better about his own health

It doesn’t help that they’re in college which always somehow means snacks over real food

If practice goes longer into the night, he’ll wait in the building or in the studio, so they can walk back to his or her dorm

Classical music is a must for them both. Just picture it. Him sitting on the bed studying with the music softly in the background while his adorable lover mimics the movements in her head along to the music. He would have the cutest little soft smile on his face(y'know the one)

When it’s tech/rehearsal week and he's not allowed to be around, it’s the worst. He’s only allowed to sit on one of the benches outside of the theater/auditorium. He can hear her jagged breathing, the nerves bounces off the walls, the constant frustration running through her veins. It makes him super antsy that he can’t barge in and console his sweet angel. 

But after each night of rehearsing, he makes sure Foggy isn’t at their dorm, so he can give her a well deserved night of comfort. Whether that be a nice massage, cuddling with an audiobook or some music, or everyone’s favorite… sex!!

Speaking of sex… he’s 100% her first. He’s so sweet and gentle. Constantly asking if she’s okay, if she wants to try something else, etc. It’s always a good time. Vanilla, but who cares? They're only in college.

Back to our charmer, he might’ve flirted with the dance instructor a little so he could be allowed into the dance studio after hours or during sessions. She’s an older lady, so of course she’s gonna love that little catholic boy who’s “too much”.

Now when the tickets for each show goes on sale, he is the first and i repeat THE FIRST to get a ticket. He’s up bright and early waiting for the doors to open so he can get one and be prepared for the night. 

During the day, he tries his best to keep her head up. Makes her stand in front of a mirror and say only positive things to herself. Even texts in the middle of his day, that she's gonna kill it. 

He even has Foggy tag along. Has him help pick out flowers and a cute card. Maybe even some cute jewelry, like a little dainty bracelet that has a ballet charm on it. Foggy doesn’t mind though, he’s their number 1 supporter. 

At the end of the show, he finds her backstage crying. Something about how she messed up on her turns and everyone noticed. To which he assures her with the biggest and tightest hug. “The crowd loved you Angel. They were absolutely breathless and amazed. If you did mess up, they didn’t even notice because your beauty hypnotized them too much.” Ending it with a billion kisses all over the face and on her forehead. 

She kept those flowers by the way. Dried them out and has them in a special area of their apartment. Probably in some cute little keepsake box. 

 After all these years, they’re still together. Graduated from school. Successful lawyer and Ballet Dancer of Hell’s Kitchen.

He still goes to all of her shows. Brings Foggy and Karen. Has a cute new bouquet of flowers each time. 

One night, he brings a ring. And after the show, they go for a small walk in the park nearby and he gets on one knee and proposes to her. The rest from there is history.

[emry-stars-art]

Massarati was a courting gift to andrew from abram after he realized they were courting one another

My face reading this omggggggg

(Gonna put this up top instead of at the end; find the royal au writing masterpost here 💕)

So this is the 4800 words of fluff; @jtl-fics was bouncing a LOT of ideas with me about it and everything was so sweet 😭🥰 you can read it here! :D or continue on this post for the sparknotes version from Abram's pov (minus the picnic date tho 👀), and let’s showcase my inexperience with horses ✨

THIS IS GREAT I done got myself a little by making Maserati a rescue case… like Abram’s probably right about what happened to her though I didn’t fully decide on it (I’m also making up everything about horse breeds in this universe thank youuu). He’s out one day for whatever reason and comes across this horse in no pasture that’s tall, clearly made for working, but it’s far too skinny. A little skiddish, but not enough that Abram can’t approach after a while of trying. It’s a familiar breed under the dirt and malnutrition.

He doesn’t even bother seeing where it might have come from. He fashions a makeshift lasso/bridle thing from rope and takes a few hours calming the horse enough to bring it back with him to the castle, leaving it in one of the smaller/less used stables with plenty of food and water before going to find Day or someone else that might be able to help. She doesn’t look impressive at first, obviously. But with lots of help and lots of time from Abram taken in secret to the stables, she slowly starts to get better. She gains weight, she gets readjusted to people, she lets him take care of her coat and hair.

At some point, Andrew insists once again on keeping Abram nearby when Abram is having a worse night than usual. Panicking easily, generally unwell. (Andrew is also wondering why Abram is suddenly spending so much time away, why he won’t tell Andrew where he’s been or what he’s doing. It’s completely in his right to do it, so Andrew never forces the issue, but it’s such an obvious switch from his normal behavior. Right when Andrew thought he could start leaning into the courting, it feels like Abram is pulling away and it hurts a little. He gets worried.) Abram can’t sleep, and Andrew won’t sleep until Abram does, so they lay on his bed with Andrew resting against Abram’s lap, relaxing or reading or tracing scars with his fingertips. It’s a long while before Abram asks, unprompted, “Did you ever have an ideal horse?”

Andrew gives him a look.

“I mean… a dream horse. Maybe when you were little, something you always wanted.”

Andrew makes a small noise. “I think most kids do.”

“Right. So did you?”

It takes more convincing than that, lots of Abram assuring Andrew that it’s not stupid, he’s just curious. He’ll tell Andrew his next. And finally Andrew tells Abram of when he was young, living with the Spears, and would fantasize about being anywhere else. He’d take a horse as black as night so no one would see him when he ran away, a horse that was strong and fast enough to take him wherever he wanted to go. He used to imagine it would carry two, so he could take his governess with him, but that was before she left. It was all child’s play, anyway. It didn’t matter now. (Abram’s horse wasn’t so detailed, but he said if he had to pick a coat color, he was very happy with the blue roan he was given.)

So the next time Abram goes to the stable he looks at her, sees how well she’s bulking up, sees again how much larger she is than the Friesians he’s used to from Evermore. She looks even stronger than those already capable horses. When she’s healthy she can certainly carry two riders and more besides, and her endurance is like the horse equivalent of his own. Her coat is getting shiny again, sleek like black oil.

When she’s healthy and ready, Abram trains her. He again has help, of course - there are people who’s jobs it is to take care of and train the castle’s horses and it isn’t him - but she has an undeniable soft spot for Abram. They get her used to being fully decked out in nice tack and equipment and whatever else. Abram holds her steady to get shoed. The veterinarians/au equivalent make sure she stays healthy and the stable master grows more impressed with her every day. She’s not your average horse, he tells Abram. She’s smart. There’s real intelligence in those eyes.

Abram could not be happier.

By the time the twins’ birthday comes around she is ready to go. Abram spends the morning before his work begins making sure she is as sparkling as he can get her, all ready for her favorite stable hand to take her to the main stables later while Abram attends the prince at the festivities. The stable hand is going to put her in her new tack, too, the beautiful white set Abram spent a good chunk of coin to have commissioned. The horse is perfectly well mannered around people now, though only Abram and a handful others can ride her. Abram only plans his evening because he knows she lets anyone ride alongside him - if Abram deems them worthy, the horse won’t protest. It isn’t trust he ever takes lightly. He’s pretty certain she’ll end up allowing Andrew every privilege she allows Abram. He is so excited and so, so nervous for that night. She’s as perfect as she could possibly be, but Andrew has gotten Abram so many wonderful gifts. This is the first time Abram has returned the favor with such intention. Hopefully it’s good enough. (She is.)

Oh also in case you’re wondering. Andrew only needs a new horse because his beloved GS was finally retired, GS is old and now gets to spend the rest of his days in nice pastures where Andrew feeds him lots of treats 💕 every like is one sugar cube gods bless

[diamond-daisies-in-the-wind]

Postpartum Sucks

Postpartum actually sucks. 

Not to sound cliche, but NO ONE talks about postpartum and even those who do, don’t elaborate on the horror movie it actually is. Set aside the hair loss, the raging hormones and the obscene changes to your body, nothing compares to the mental strain that postpartum has on a new mom. Think of a blender filled with rusty nails and oranges and trying to make something useful with that; that’s what postpartum is. 

The Physical Changes No One Warns You About

The physical aspects of postpartum like hair loss, body changes, and hormonal shifts are glossed over and it seems like every influencer has just the right tips and tricks to get you to “bounce back” to your pre-pregnancy body but the only thing that’s “bouncing” is the loose skin that dangles over my c-section scar. I was relatively healthy, and I wouldn’t label myself as “skinny queen”, but I was happy with what I looked like, and I didn’t care much about others opinions. However, pregnancy destroyed my entire stomach area with purple and pink tiger stripes that run across my entire abdomen. I used to confidently stand in front of my husband in my birthday suit but lately, I feel the strong desire to wear an actual suit to hide what I think are my imperfections. I personally didn’t experience much hair loss, however my body changed so drastically. My hips are wider now than they were before which makes finding clothes impossible. I’m stuck with buying clothes that are two or three sizes too large just so I can accommodate my raging curves. I have been able to find two pairs of jeans that fit nicely, and I treat them as if they are religious artifacts meant to be worshiped. I refuse to buy any more jeans for myself because the task of having to go to a store, look for jeans that I think fit, and then try them on just to be disappointed over and over again is disheartening and I refuse. There once was a youtuber who lived her best life in leggings and refused to wear jeans at all costs; I will do the same. I don’t want to care about how my body looks to others and the thing I struggle with the most is associating the person I see in the mirror to the person I see in myself. Right now, they are two different people judging each other without actually getting to know each other. How do I restore these relationships between my sense of self? I haven’t the answer to that question but one day I think I’ll be able to look back and wonder why I cared so much... 

Leaning On My Supports 

Postpartum is a heavy task that every woman must face and not having a good support system can really be the downfall to success. Now, I can’t speak for everyone because there are some things that I didn’t experience that most do. I have a really good support system on both sides of the family. My mother, though she can be abrupt at times, is always willing to help, even if it’s just sitting with my son. My father helped and still helps on occasion with little financial struggles. My husband and I knew there would be added expenses to having a baby and we were confident that this burden would be easy to take hold of, but we weren't expecting my sudden job change. There was a short period where my husband and I couldn’t afford groceries or bills and my father chipped in. He sent us money just in case and gave us that financial support that most people don’t receive. Moreover, my mother and father-in-law are the kindest people to ever exist and though they could not easily be at my house without a long drive, they helped by buying us diapers, formula, and different necessities so that my husband and I didn’t have to worry, further loosening that financial burden. I know that not everyone has these supports in place, and I am and will always be eternally grateful for their support. This isn’t a moment where I am gloating about the things that I have but appreciative that I do have these supports that can lift some burden off me and my husband’s shoulders. 

The Mental Toll 

With my family’s support, it allowed me to take a deeper dive into my mental health, however, in my exploration of who I am, I ended up getting stuck. Even now, I feel the sticky slime at the bottom of my shoes, reminding me that negativity is always there. The mental aspect of postpartum really took a toll on my sense of self. I’ve always struggled with my anxieties but over the years, I was able to manage well with breathing exercises, mediation, and support from my husband. However, all of that had to be thrown out the window. I can no longer just breathe it out when I’m feeling overwhelmed; I'd go blue. There is no time for meditation, any of my free time is spent taking care of the baby or doing chores around the house. My husband is also trying to stay afloat with the added responsibility of taking care of another human while still managing his online classes and going to work. There were countless nights where I felt stuck and all I could do was disassociate myself from reality. 

One night in particular really stuck with me the most because I was enshrouded in a wet black veil of depression that I couldn’t take off. My son was particularly needy that night and wouldn’t sleep unless he was being held by me. My husband was asleep bedside me and I was growing increasingly angry at the sight of his peace. I decided to abscond from our room and sit on the rocking chair in my son’s nursery. There I sat, rocking back and forth, thinking of all the decisions I made in my life that led me to that moment. Thinking about how nothing I did was good enough for the high expectations I had set for myself. All I could do was rock back and forth, shushing my baby, lulling him to sleep, watching his precious eyelids fall into serenity as fear filled my body with no outlet of release to not wake him. 

I rocked back and forth, trapped in a state that was both soothing but suffocating, each movement a pendulum swing between numbness and despair. Time felt elastic, as if the night would stretch on forever. With every rock back and forth, my mind retreated to its inner most depths where only darkness resided. The house was deathly quiet, the soft pulse of air from the fan humming. I could feel the electrical vibrations through my skin as I stared at the shadowed walls encasing me in a prison of solitude and sadness. His peace was more important and all I could do was sit in the depths of my brain, reliving moments in my life that I wish I could change. Fixated on everything I should have done or said to those around me. The choices I made, the things that I could never change. Was this where I truly was meant to be? A heavy blackness hung over me, pressing down like a thick fog, unyielding. The hands of darkness caressing my neck and back, putting strain on my already overstimulated body. Every dark thought, a weight that pulled me deeper, making it hard to break. There was no escaping the cacophony of worries; am i a good mother? Am i a good wife? Am i a good daughter? Am i a good sister? Am I good enough? 

The rocking chair became my prison, the cushions of the chair were meant to provide comfort and warmth, but in that moment, I felt a heaviness inside me that was crushing my soul. While my son rested in absolute peace, my mind was a whirlwind of chaos, storming through my being with self-doubt, anxiety, and fatigue. Eventually, my son’s steady breaths lulled me out of my despair, the rising sun illuminating the ominous shadows. With every step that dawn took, it brought me back to my reality, though I continued to rock back and forth, holding the little I had of myself, I knew that I had to rise soon and face a new day. I knew that I had to subdue these oiled thoughts and cast them aside because I had to be there. I could not allow myself to flail in a pit of nothingness because there were those who relied on me. As the birds quietly chirped and the morning dew sat on the lawn, I clawed myself a window, just big enough to allow some light into my darkened world. I’m still there sometimes, rocking back and forth but instead of holding my sleeping baby, I’m holding onto the person I used to be, trying to figure out how to be that person again while also moving on to the new phase in my life. I have carved away most of the darkness that took over, but it’s still there. In every step I take forward, I can still feel the oil beneath my feet, reminding me that at any moment I can easily slip right back. 

Losing Myself and Finding HER Again 

No one talks about that... the fact that when you become a mother, you lose a part of yourself that you loved. You become a caretaker, preventing fires and putting band aids on things that require stitches. Pushing all those negative thoughts and emotions into a trunk and throwing them in the ocean, hoping that you never see them again. But it’s there... it lurks in the back of your head, and you have to figure out how to just be. 

It’s been a few months since that eventful night, and I’ve had time to reflect on where I was to who I am now. I can’t confidently say that I have escaped that dark nursery, rocking back and forth, but I am able to escape more easily now. Returning to work has helped distract me from those anxieties but I still haven’t found my identity. Going back to work allows me to be who I was before, which makes me feel guilty because there’s a subtle pleasure in not having to put all my attention into taking care of my son. I love my son, and I strongly believe that my purpose is to be his mother, but the small doses of freedom keep me alive. 

To the Mothers Who Feel Alone

I want this to be an insight for those mothers who struggled or are struggling; subdued to the strong emotions and trying to forget and move on to something that is totally different than what was known before. I want this to be a trek into the unknown that we take on together and hopefully, this could alleviate some stress in at least one person, knowing that they aren’t alone. Motherhood itself is a task that cannot be taken on by anyone. I will admit that most of the beginning of motherhood is checking off boxes on your to-do list and maintaining that structure like taking your child to doctor's appointments, making sure they had enough food for the day, giving them baths, and maintaining a livable environment. It’s the emotional aspect of it that tears you down. Yes, you can feel accomplished by doing the easy things, but regaining who you were is a tough road that every mother goes through. I’m not just a mother... I’m a person with hobbies and interests and desires. I don’t feel that I have completed my transformation, life doesn’t allow anyone to really meet their peak but there has to be some peace along the way. Balancing how to be a mom, a teacher, a wife, and an individual is how I’m going to find my own peace and give myself the opportunity to say goodbye to the “she” who used to be mine. 

[sabo-has-my-heart]

hiieee i LOVE ur ace stories :3 do you think you could please write an ace x gn!reader where the reader is nervous about their body image, especially when it comes to how much they eat. maybe they're jealous that ace can eat whatever he wants and still look super hot and lean. and ace reassures them that he loves them no matter how they look. thank youuu <333

I'm so glad you like my Ace stories. It's so sad that people don't have good body image, even if they're healthy or look great. That being said, I don't specify what size that they are only that they 'feel chubby' and that they're not super muscular (who is?).

Warnings: GN!Reader

Word Count:1370 

     Looking down at the food in front of you, you tried your best to hold yourself back. You’d been trying to cut back on how much you eat, tried working out to work on how you looked, but it didn’t seem to be helping much. Glancing over, you watched your boyfriend demolishing a large piece of meat, 2 helpings of pasta, a bowl of rice, and something that looked like it had once been a vegetable before Ace got to it. You, on the other hand, had barely touched the diet food you’d asked Thatch for and knew you were already gaining 10 pounds. Sometimes you hated your boyfriend, or more specifically, you hated how he could eat 50 pounds of food and come out 20 pounds lighter! His body always looked like it had been sculpted from marble, arms, chest, and abs that were to die for. Muscles that rippled and could lift just about anything, the way his body glistened with sweat under the hot sun, the light bouncing off every dip and curve of his glorious body. 

     Whereas you, on the other hand, swore you’d been a child’s clay project that had turned into the lumpy form of a human. Looking in the mirror, all you ever saw was the chub on your sides, the pudge in your stomach, and how thick your thighs were. You were strong, you knew that, you were strong and capable, perhaps not as strong as one of the division commanders, but you could certainly hold your own. At first you’d figured you just needed to work out more, after all, a lot of the well muscled guys on the Moby Dick did a lot of hard work. So you worked hard, trained… and lost 5 pounds. Alright, well maybe it was how much you ate and what you ate. Thatch was a great cook, how could you not want to eat his cooking? So you’d tried cutting back and tried dieting… you hadn’t even lost 5 pounds and were constantly hungry. How was it that Ace could eat whatever he wanted, sleep 10 hours a day, goof off, and still be shredded as fuck?! 

     Ace glanced over at you, picking at your food. You looked miserable and he knew why. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Thatch’s diet food, Thatch was a great cook, it was that you were in a slump about how you looked. Ace put on a sympathetic smile as he put a hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze, drawing you out of your thoughts.

     “You know, you look stunning in this light.” Ace said, nuzzling the top of your head. It was technically true, you looked stunning in the light, but then, you looked stunning in any light. Despite how you felt about your looks, he couldn’t help but think you looked like the most dazzling person on earth. Granted, even if you didn’t look great, he’d still love you, he didn’t love you for your looks, he loved you because of who you were. Your looks were just a bonus. You smiled at him, giving him a kiss on the cheek before eating your food, your mood picking up as you took his hand, holding it as you ate. Glancing back over at you, he wondered if he could get you to raid the kitchen with him. While he might know and understand how you felt about your body and weight, he missed raiding the fridge with you, missed eating everything together, and missed enjoying everything you ate together. To be completely honest, your love of food was one of the things that had first attracted him to you, you could both just sit there and enjoy what you were eating and talk about how great it was. He’d still support you if you wanted to work on your body image and do whatever he could to help, he was never worried about what you looked like. In fact, if anything, he loved the way you were. The ‘pudge’ that you worried about being on your stomach was soft, huggable and a great pillow. The thighs that you fretted were ‘too big’, allowed his fingers to sink in the perfect amount when he picked you up. The ‘chub’ on your sides that troubled you constantly was just right for cuddling at night when he’d nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck. Hell, even if you were on the chubbier side, it’s not like you were unhealthy or anything. In fact, if anything, Marco had said you were one of the healthier members of the crew.

     Ace smiled as you wrapped his arms around you from behind, his head resting on your shoulder as you two sat on his bed.

     “You’re absolutely amazing, you know that?” Ace muttered, squeezing you a little tighter. This was one of the things he loved most about your body. You couldn’t really squeeze muscles. You either held a muscular person loosely or you held them tight and couldn’t give them good, loving squeezes. With you, he could hold you close, his arms wrapped comfortably around you, not tight but not loose, but he could pull you closer, tighten his hold, and envelop you in his warm embrace.

     “I… I don’t understand how you can think that.” you said with a sigh, even as you nuzzled your head against his.

     “I think it because it’s true. You’re kind, loving, sweet, beautiful. What other word could I use for you besides ‘amazing’?” he asked, placing a soft kiss against your shoulder.

     “Chubby, overweight, plump, gluttono-ow!” you glared at him, as he pinched your arm.

     “First of all, you’re none of those things! Just because you’re not particularly muscular, doesn’t mean you aren’t the most attractive person on the planet. Secondly, you’re not chubby or anything, you’re perfect. And thirdly! Even if you were those things, I didn’t start loving you and dating you because of your looks! I love you no matter what you look like.” Ace said sternly, putting a hand on your cheek and making you face him, “I’ll always love you for you, for your heart. You could become the most hideous, fattest person on the planet and I’d still love you and think you were amazing. So stop saying that shit and come raid the kitchen with me.” he said, giving you a sweet, gentle kiss. You couldn’t help but smile at him as you nodded. To be honest, you were still pretty hungry and you hadn’t raided the kitchen together in quite a while.

[fruchtfleisch-art]

Something like ‘home sick from work’ or ‘picnic’ could be interesting prompts for the microfics! :)

Three things: (1) my friend Danny has a lovely illustration/microfic of a Kirashino picnic here, please go admire it and the absolutely insane top-down angle it was drawn at.

(2) I apologize for how long this took... I started writing and then immediately got sick myself, which helped me come up with descriptions but really hindered my ability to write them down 😭.

(3) If it wasn't obvious by the slow post rate of these last few prompts, my free time is back to being somewhat limited, so this is the last microfic! Thank you so, so much to everyone who sent a prompt in! I'll definitely run something like this again someday, it was really fun :) This batch will be posted up on AO3 soon, after I rest a bit.

Kirashino microfic #6/6?: Home sick from work

It’s a proven fact: Yoshikage Kira does not take sick days.

That doesn’t mean he’s never been sick, necessarily, but he’s not the type to laze around in bed when he doesn’t feel well. The last time he caught the flu bug circulating in his office, he set a nighttime alarm for his twice-daily dose of fever reducer, wore a mask all week, and stayed out of the break room. His supervisor had praised him for his commitment and excellent work ethic.

“Kawajiri Kosaku”, on the other hand, has called out sick for three days, and is completely fed up with the whole ordeal. It just doesn’t make sense. He’s young, he has a strong immune system, and he takes excellent care of himself. He should be feeling better by now, or at least a bit less like week-old roadkill.

Three days in, and it’s all Kira can do to lie on the Kawajiri’s couch, desperately craving sleep he can’t have. Every time his eyes slide shut and his mind goes quiet, the tight, sharp ache in his throat prods him back to listless wakefulness, forces him to sit up and hack another wad of bloody phlegm into the nearest tissue. It’s miserable work. His chest hurts from coughing.

Time passes in sludgy fits and starts, the dawn light outside growing steadily brighter. The next time he rolls over to cough, it’s agonizingly bright, and Shinobu is standing in the doorway, a shopping bag tucked under her arm. When did she get here?

“Sorry,” she says quietly. “I didn’t mean to wake you up. How are you feeling?”

Instead of leaving, she comes in to tidy up his sick den, picking up trash and empty cups. It’s irritating. The whole point of him staying downstairs is to prevent infecting the one healthy person left in the house. What’s he supposed to do if she gets sick?

“Shinobu,” he tries to say, but his voice breaks with a raspy squeak. He tries again and nothing comes out.

“Hayato is feeling a lot better today,” Shinobu says cheerfully, giving no indication she heard him. “So I’m sure you won’t be far behind.”

Kira doesn’t want to hear about the disease vector she calls her son, doesn’t want to even think about him. The idea of Hayato contaminating him, of his virus squirming its way past his immune system, replicating, clogging his airways with gunk and boiling his brain to fevered mush is…

Another thick, sticky cough bubbles up and forces him forward, tears pricking his eyes as mucus shifts painfully in his chest. Shinobu is there with a pack of tissues when the cough is finally productive, brings a glass of water when he’s done with the tissues.

“That sounds awful, sweetie. Can I help?” She brings her shopping bag over to the couch. A thin blue box emerges from the shopping bag. From the box, like magic, emerges a fresh bottle of SS Bron.

Shinobu! Wonderful woman! His own Florence Nightingale. He didn’t even know they were running low on cough medicine. He watches her measure out a few milliliters of cola-colored syrup into a spoon, the harsh sunlight bouncing off the rim in a blinding white circle.

The light.

“T-” Kira says. Swallows hard, throat working a slimy circuit. Tries again: “Time is it?”

“Almost noon. Why?”

His last dose was at eight o’clock, not even four hours ago. It hasn’t been nearly long enough for him to have another. Didn’t she read the label?

Horrible woman! Is she trying to give him brain damage? Kill him?

He bristles, ready to admonish Shinobu for her carelessness, but the moment he opens his mouth she brings the spoon to his lips. A barely-there sweetness trickles over his tongue.

“Don’t worry about that. You need the rest,” she says, smiling fondly at him. “I’m not keeping you on a schedule, honey. You just work on feeling better.”

That’s not it, not at all! Kira isn’t worried about oversleeping. He’s worried about missing too much work and contagion and how he has, just now, possibly overdosed on codeine. He would happily explain this to her, but his throat is packed with ground glass and forcing out anything louder than a sigh is painful, terribly painful.

Shinobu bends down to kiss his cheek, then places a cool hand on his forehead. He closes his eyes as her fingers push through his sweat-sodden bangs, scratch lightly at his scalp.

It’s humiliating, being petted like a dog, or a… something. That’s it. Humiliating.

He’s too sick to move, though. So, so, sick.

Might as well make himself comfortable.

[anxiousangerball]

Shadow Work

Shadow Question 1:

When did you stop loving yourself?

My response is below. I'm posting it because...well fuck. If I'm going this work for me. I guess I can do whatever I want with it. I'm posting on a whim. Maybe I'll regret it. Maybe I won't.

Unimportant!

The question is for whoever wants to play around with it. (Be gentle on yourself. This journey is already hard enough.)

That one time I lied to my mom.

I was four…maybe five. I cannot remember if my baby brother had been born yet.

Mom was in a bad mood.

She didn’t handle her bad moods very well. She had been taught that being angry was shameful.

Trouble is, anger happens. You can’t stuff that shit deep down and ignore it.

If you do that, then you do things like my mom would do. She would stuff a little bit of anger down each day, and that anger couldn’t get going anywhere.

That little ball of anger inside of her would increase in size.

Soon, it would be too big for her to contain, although she was still making the effort:

She’s doing her thing, not showing how angry she is about all the things, but we, in the household, all knew. We knew when an explosion was about to detonate. We knew. We could feel it in the air of the home. Miserable.

Finally. FINALLY, all of her anger would explode, she would yell, she would lecture, she would cry. She would threaten to run away. Not in that order, of course. (The threat to run away, though...that one always hurt me most.)

Once she'd gotten all that anger out of her system, things would be okay again...until her collection of anger was too big for her body again.

None of this is good or healthy. In case you were wondering.

So, this one evening, Mom was in a bad mood, but it wasn’t bad enough yet to subdue my older sister and I as we got ready for bed.

Our bedrooms were upstairs from the living area of the house, and we were able to hear our parents coming up the stairs. We had been fooling around – a bit hyper, a bit bouncing off the walls. We heard our parents start up the stairs, and I dashed back to my own room, my own bed. I leapt upon the bed and pulled all the covers over me.

I was playing. This was a play action. I was inviting my parents to play hide and seek – of a sort - with me.

Neither of them accepted my invitation to play. My Dad was chill. He didn’t do anything beyond finally kiss me good night after I’d excavated myself out from underneath the blankets.

My mom’s mood had gotten even more sour – I could feel it in the air. So I apologized. I actually said I was sorry for messing up the blankets on my bed – they were all out of order because of how I’d been roughhousing.

My mom said “yeah, well you lie a lot, too.”

(Quick note here. Either my hearing or my auditory processing was never strong. I think auditory processing issues are the culprit, but who knows? All I know is that that is what I heard my mom say. I could be mistaken. I mention it only because, also around this age, there was a moment when I dashed up to my dad to tell him something of vital importance to me. He said “What’s up” I heard “Shut up.” It’s a thing. But, we’re going with what I’m sure I heard my mom say. Because that’s what I reacted to. Hearing my mom say “yeah, and you lie a lot, too.”)

Another aside, I already understood that I had a tenuous relationship with the truth. That, in my mind at the age of 4, was gospel. I struggled with telling the truth. Also, I was a bad child. (I was being raised in a strict Catholic household. I was never going to get out of there with self-confidence intact.) The point is – I could easily believe my mom said such a thing to me because I already understood that I struggled with being honest.

She kissed me good night, turned out my light and went back downstairs.

I started sobbing.

My older sister heard me from her room and tried to figure out what was going on and how she could get me to stop. She had no success. She went down and summoned our folks.

My mom tried to get to the bottom of why I was crying, and I couldn’t tell her. I felt absolutely unable to articulate why I was crying. I didn’t want to tell her that I was crying because I was a liar. (full disclosure, I have no clue how my mom would have reacted if I had said “I’m crying because you said that I lie a lot. I know that that is true, but now I think that are going to stop loving me because I’m an absolute crap human being.” But you know…how a 4 year old would say it.).

So, I didn’t tell her. She was already angry. Then, AFTER BEDTIME! She had this irrational child that she couldn't understand, who wasn’t giving her anything at all to work with. She finally left me to my dad’s care and stomped off back downstairs.

My dad finally managed to get me to calm down. I still couldn't bring myself to admit why I was so upset over the fact that I was a liar and a crap human (honestly – I believed for many many years that I was going to burn in hell because of what an awful person I was. The church always told me how awful I was. I believed them. I am so grateful that, when I was in my 20s, I came to the conclusion that no one should be made to feel so profoundly miserable on a weekly basis by visiting their chosen house of worship. So, I stopped going. Because I deserve to not feel miserable. I really fucking do. No one should feel miserable when worshipping. I will die on this hill.).

I couldn’t tell my dad anything, but at least I'd stopped. He convinced me to talk with my mom again, because my being upset had upset her. It would make her feel better, he said, if she could give me another good night kiss (paraphrasing here, if you couldn’t guess. This is gist, not the actual conversation).

We go downstairs, and I had another conversation with my mom. I still would not tell her why I had been so upset. Mom kept offering guesses. Finally she suggested that I was jealous that my older sister had just gotten new flannel sheets for her bed, but I hadn’t. I told her that that was it. That was why I was so upset.

(As established above, that was not why I was upset. Also established above, I was a lying liar who lies, apparently. I just didn’t want to tell her that she had made me cry because of what she said. I do not know why that meant so much to me.)

So, she promised that, as soon as our budget could handle it, she would buy me a set of flannel sheets as well.

That was a terrible night. My mom called me a liar and then I proved her right. That’s heavy stuff for a four year old. But, because I couldn’t figure out a way to tell my mom what was actually going on, I hated myself even more than I had.

I think that is when I stopped loving myself. What an irredeemable person I was! (Again...I was four. I remember certain things. I remember how that sadness clung in my throat and it ached, ached, ached. I remember the shame. Should a four year old be able to hold that much shame? At that age? I blame the Catholic Church for the assist, along with my mom for her own traumatic upbringing that caused her to hurt those she loves.)

(Not that my dad gets a pass in my childhood…we all made plenty of choices we regret. It’s just…this was a story about me and my mom. And when (and why) I stopped loving myself.)

You know what I hate the most? I don't believe my mom's love is steadfast. I think I will lose it by doing or saying the wrong thing. By making the "wrong" choice. (And "wrong" is just code for something she doesn't agree with. If I had come home with a same sex significant other, that would have been a wrong choice. Just for example.) I feel very tentative around my mom - leaning in to politeness so as not to give offense. I guess I don't want to lose her love, even if I think the way she is choosing to live her life is close minded and bigoted.

What the hell is that? I hate the choices she's making. I HATE them. I am so embarrassed and ashamed that someone who taught me to be kind and empathetic, someone who led my scout troop, and taught us all feminism 101 for fucks sake (holy wow were we feisty when we were pre-teens. I miss that optimism and courage.), someone who was one of my best fucking friends when I was an older teen into my twenties, has grown to be so fucking unkind. That meanness is there there. It's there in how she votes. It's there in how she talks about people different from her. IT'S MOTHERFUCKING THERE WHEN SHE - WITH HER FULL CHEST - PICKETS OUTSIDE OF THE LOCAL ABORTION CLINIC. WHAT THE EVER LOVING FUCK, MA?! HOW VERY DARE YOU BE SO FUCKING MEAN!!!

This woman pisses me off.

But, also. She's my mom. And I want her to still be my family. I want her to consider me to be her family. But she's grown to be so fucking awful. And I look at her and I feel - in with all the frustration and anger - I feel pity. This fucking woman. She's doing her best, but religion has rotted her brain. She thinks she's being righteous. She goes to mass on the daily, she prays her rosary, she completes so so many acts of service. She reads her bible She reads other religious tomes. She tithes to the church and donates to charity. She thinks she is being good. But when we try to point out her bigotry, she can't hear it. She can't take it in. She won't even try. She's scared. She's being left behind in a world that is adapting because it has to. She's clinging to what makes her feel safe, but her sense of safety HURTS others. It fucking damages others.

I love this woman, but she breaks my heart. I fear her final abandonment of me, even as I don't agree with her current morality. I hate this. No stars. Cannot recommend.

[mess-with-a-purpose]

Hurry Back to Me, Soldier

Pairing: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x fem!reader

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: SMUT/NSFW (18+) minors please go away, slight overstimulation, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv sex (please wrap it up), MULTIPLE orgasms, slight dirty talk, praise kink, strong language, established relationship, fluff throughout, angst if you squint

Your knee bounced impatiently as you searched for your boyfriend in the flock of pilots all in white. Damn, why did all these men have to look the same from behind? You tried looking out for Tom’s signature bleached tips but you were too short to see over every head. A wave of anxiety came over you, your fingers clenched together in an effort to spare your cuticles. You knew he was here but you needed to see him. See his smile, his eyes, his birthmark. Having been deprived of his presence for five weeks, you felt it all come to a head.

Tom had insisted that you not visit, the stubborn ass. Five weeks. Five long weeks since you’ve seen him, touched him, felt him. Back home, you tried to keep yourself busy and distracted through work and everyday life but it was in the quiet moments that the loneliness crept in. That’s when you’d bite the bullet and call him, his voice like a security blanket. You tried to reason with him that your work was flexible and you wanted him to show you around Miramar and the Bay area but he was firm. You knew why. You still didn’t like it, but you knew why. For some healthy “payback” you decided to tell Tom that you weren’t going to make it to graduation because something came up with work. He was understanding, as always, but you could hear the disappointment in his voice.

Little did he know that Slider and Wolfman were in on your plan to surprise him for graduation. Slider had let you know about the point results almost as soon as the final count came in just a few days before. You cried when Slider told you the news.

“Oh, Slider, I’m so proud of you both,” you hiccuped.

“I know you are, Squirt.”

“H-how is Tom?” you asked, knowing how big news for him usually went. 

Slider sighed over the line. “Well, Squirt, it’s the usual.” Great. That meant he had called home, his mother, Gladys, picked up and gave her regular speech of how proud she is and how much she loves him. Tom was appreciative of his mother, absolutely. Hers just wasn’t the approval that he so desperately wanted.

After you hammered out the details with all the boys and Gladys, you had anxiously waited for this day to finally see him.

“Gentlemen, here at TopGun we challenged you to fly against the very best. Now, we ask that you take that expertise and keep the tradition alive. Good luck.” Commander Phillips was a typical Naval man; cut right to the chase. No fluff, no fuss, no muss. Thank God.

“Do you see him?” you whispered to Gladys. She was hard to miss in her statement turquoise jewelry and silver hair. 

She put a loving hand on your knee, calming the bouncing. “It’s fine, dear,” she pointed across the pool into the sea of Service Dress white uniforms. “There he is!” you chuckled at the cliché; mothers can truly always find anything.

It was almost ridiculous the amount of love you felt just seeing the back of Tom’s head, his bleached tips poking out in the sun. He turned his head to whisper to Slider as Commander Metcalf came to the podium, his jawline and smile making you feel like a giddy teenager in a honeymoon phase. Damn it, you loved this man.

Commander Metcalf scanned the small class, a look of assurance coming over his face. “Gentlemen, you are the top one percent of all naval aviators.” A brief pause. “The elite, the best of the best.” Another pause, another scan. You felt your knee bounce again. “We’ve made you better.”

“Calm down, sweetheart,” Gladys’ hand returned to your knee with another gentle pat.

“Sorry, sorry.”

The commander’s voice drowned into an applause as everyone stood to watch their pilots be dismissed, officially graduated. 

Gladys leaned over to you. “I’ll go ahead and make my way to Tom. Why don’t you go see the boys for a minute? I think they wanted to help you with a grand reunion.” Her smile was soft as she rubbed your arms. You nod in agreement and watch as she weaves through the crowd to her son who was holding his impressive TopGun trophy.

“Well, well, well,” the familiar voice made you roll your eyes with a smile. Wolfman chuckled, his aviator glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he looked you over. “If it isn’t Squirt!”

“Lenny!” You giggled as he kissed your temple and gave you a firm squeeze.

“We’ve missed you, runt,” that earned him a playful smack on the shoulder. “Hey, hey! Watch the whites,” he laughed as he brushed his fingers along the black and gold pads. “Gotta keep ‘em sharp.”

You felt two strong arms come around your middle and briefly lift you up, a squeal escaping your lips.

“Squirt!” Hollywood and Sundown greeted you with more cheek kisses and hugs.

“Put me down!” you laughed, realizing just how much you’ve missed all your boys. Hollywood obeyed and gave you a quick salute.

“Well, the lil’ lady should go ahead to her Iceman,” Sundown stretched his hand out as if pointing to Tom.

Your heart belted in your chest as you found him again, his smile so wide as Slider pulled him in for a signature headlock hug. You felt the boys give you gentle pats on your shoulders as you started to carve out a path through the crowd. Licking your lips, you kept your gaze locked on Tom, taking in just how he was in the moment. He looked so happy, so very happy.

Slider caught sight of you over Tom’s shoulder, a smile lighting up his face as you put a finger to your lips for a silent shhh as you crept up closer. 

“Well, Lieutenant, it seems like you’re one hell of a pilot.”

You watched as Slider looked back at Tom, gesturing with his eyes as if to say She’s really here, man. It felt like a millisecond when Tom turned, his face morphing into pure joy as he saw you standing in front of him. 

“Oh my god!” He said, arms circled around you, your feet briefly lifted off the concrete in a symphony of laughter. “Baby!” He kissed you everywhere; your shoulder, neck, cheek. Your fingers ran through his hair and across his shoulders as you laughed. Five weeks. Five very long weeks and here he was, in your arms again. Everyone had turned back to their conversations, giving the two of you a sliver of privacy. His head buried in your neck as you both held each other. 

“I’ve missed you so damn much,” you said as Tom met your eyes, his thumbs grazing your cheeks. He didn’t say a word as he sweetly pressed his lips to yours, his forehead resting against your brow when he pulled away.

Gladys gently cleared her throat, her polite indication that you would have plenty of time to reconnect after the ceremony. Her raw turquoise bangle glimmered in the sun. Tom gave you a quick peck on your nose as he shifted you to his side, arm around your waist. 

“I am so proud of you, Thomas,” Gladys reached up to touch her son’s cheek. 

“Thank you, Mom.”

Something hung in the air with Tom’s response, an unexpected visitor who plagued Tom’s accomplishments. You’d met Commander Kazansky once before at a naval convention after Tom graduated from the Academy, the top of his class. The commander’s presence was completely austere and demanding. He was polite but detached, only giving the bare minimum of attention to anyone, especially his own son. He’s been like a ghost ever since. Tom had told you, rather warned you, about his father and his emotional disregard.

“He’s just that kind of guy.” Tom had said that night after you witnessed it first hand. You were baffled that a father could be so aloof, so disconnected that his son constantly battled to be the best, to prove himself. It broke your heart to watch Tom work his ass off only to get mediocre responses, if not just grunts of acknowledgement, from his commander father. You and Gladys tried to make up the difference but you both knew it would never truly be what he needed to hear. 

Once again, on a day when his son would absolutely deserve a simple bit of acknowledgement from his father, Commander Kazansky had only let his presence dangle over the bliss of Tom being the best of the best. It pissed you off and made you wonder what kind of label the defense department would put on a commander getting punched in the face.

Just when Tom’s expression began to dwindle, you gently grabbed his cheeks, “We are so proud of you, Tom Kazansky,” your thumbs brushed his face, his blue-green eyes brightening as he held your waist. “My badass TopGun man.” You gave him a quick kiss, not wanting to harp on asshat fathers.

Slider turned his attention back to you, holding his hand up in a high five offering that you enthusiastically accepted. “Nice one, Squirt!” he chuckled, giving you a quick side hug before calling the boys over.

Tom rolled his eyes, his smile beaming. “You two planned this?” his finger jabbed between the two of you.

“Actually,” Wolfman came up behind you, followed by Hollywood, Sundown, and Merlin. “We all did, Ice.”

“You unbelievable bastards. So she’s who you were on the phone with when I walked in that time?” Tom chuckled, pulling you to his side as all your boys fist bumped each other looking like a proud bunch of frat brothers. In their own way, they probably were.

Slider threw his hands up. “Guilty as charged, man. We couldn’t stand seeing you mope around the last few weeks.”

“So, you decide to lie and make the situation seem worse?” Tom fired back.

Wolfman chuckled, “Nah, dickhead, Squirt here thought it would be fun to surprise you instead,” he ruffled your hair playfully.

“Guilty,” you said, mirroring Slider’s hands. 

Tom shook his head in disbelief before giving you a kiss, “You got me good, baby.”

The crew headed to the refreshment table, plastic glasses of champagne being passed around as the guys blew off steam from the last five weeks. You helped yourself to a bit of champagne as Tom and Slider finished up their pictures with the TopGun trophy. Gladys had found some old friends across the pool and the boys were enjoying catching up with you. Just a few minutes into the party, Merlin helped you revive an old drinking game; take a shot every time Hollywood and Wolfman mention their dicks, double if it’s because of war talk. Back in the day, this game would get everyone wasted and drunkenly singing the classic “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’” even when none of the guys were trying to hit on an unsuspecting woman.

Keeping it classy, you and Merlin only played the game for ten minutes before you both called it quits from already feeling a little tipsy. It was a Navy graduation, after all. Just before Wolfman got another round of champagne, the boys all turned their heads and went quiet. You followed their gaze to find Maverick dressed in his Service Whites and looking exhausted. You’d heard from Tom about what happened to Goose; he called you one night mirroring his father, disconnected as he told you that Goose had been killed in an accident. He didn’t give much more than that and you didn’t want to push him to talk about it. It was an accident, jet wash, lost control. 

At that moment, everyone watched as Maverick approached Tom and shook his hand, “Congratulations.”

Tom smiled, “Thank you.”

Maverick turned to Slider, “Congratulations.”

“Thanks, Mav,” Slider replied.

Commander Metcalf joined the refreshment table as Maverick moved to the end. “Gentlemen,” he announced. “I hate to break up the party before it really gets out of hand, but there is work to be done.”

Tom and Slider glanced at each other. You felt a twinge at the back of your neck. 

“Some of you have to depart immediately. We have a crisis situation.”

You watched as Tom glanced excitedly at Slider. Jester had a stack of folded papers in his hand, something that looked rather familiar to you in the time that you’ve been with Tom. You knew what those meant and it made your chest tighten.

“Ice. Slider,” Jester passed their papers.

“Yo,” Tom popped a pretzel in his mouth as he handed Slider his assignment sheet. Jester listed off Wolfman, Hollywood, and Maverick next. Tom opened the sheet, smiling as he read the contents. While you’d been through this before, it never got easier. You knew he loved his job, it’s what he was good at, what he felt confident in. You just hated saying goodbye with the possibility of never seeing him again. Just the thought made you feel sick and empty. You downed the rest of your champagne as the boys dispersed, Tom wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Been in this long enough that I don’t have to guess what that is,” you point to the sheet, now refolded in Tom’s free hand. 

He gave you a small smile, his lips grazing your temple as his fingers clutched your waist. His forehead rested against yours, “We better send Mom off for the night.”

“How long?”

“We still have tonight. I don’t leave until early in the morning,” a shiver went up your spine as he friskily bit your earlobe. “We still have something to celebrate tonight.” 

Tom insisted on driving simply so he could rest his hand on your inner thigh. The tension in the car was overwhelming. You hyper fixated on his touch, his fingers warm as they slightly lifted your dress. Five weeks without him and you could come undone just by skin to skin contact. For a brief moment, the phone sex you had a couple of weeks ago flashed in your mind. Tom’s voice was low and smooth as he walked you through how he wanted you to touch yourself. 

“Nice and slow around your clit, baby,” you bit your lip, doing as you were told, so desperate for release. “I want to hear you, come on, I know you’re close.”

While that had been much needed for the both of you, it only made missing him worse once the high wore off. You would have to hang up eventually, cutting off the only connection you had to him while he was at TopGun. It was in that moment that you felt your frustration grow because it was Tom who decided you shouldn’t visit him. He didn’t really explain why but knowing him, you figured it was because he wanted as few distractions as possible. While you respected that, you couldn’t help but feel stung that he might consider you a distraction.

Tom’s fingers stroked your skin, squeezing lightly as you gasped at the forwardness of it all. He was one for physical affection, always wanting to touch you either through a hand on your leg, brushing your lower back, or an arm secured around your waist. This felt different. It felt possessive, hungry.

Your eyes fluttered as he grazed your underwear, grazing your clit beneath the fabric, his Annapolis ring rolling along your skin with a sharp coolness. A soft moan escaped your lips as you glanced over at Tom. His eyes were fixed on the road but a smirk graced his delicious lips as he repeated his touch, more intentional with his movements.

“Is this okay, sweetheart?” his fingers dipped into the elastic of your underwear and you chuckle. Always the gentleman and god, you loved him for it.

“Yes, please baby,” you whined, craving his touch. Tom happily obliged, the pads of his fingers immediately finding your clit. It was almost too much.

Spreading your legs wider for him, he dipped lower into you, feeling your craving for him as he explored. “God, baby,” he licked his lips. “You’re so wet for me already.”

Your head tilted back as another moan left your lips. He found an agonizing rhythm: steady but slow. Damn it, he knew what he was doing. You needed more, your hand grasping at his wrist to control the pace but Tom paused. Another whine from you.

“Babe, please, fuck, I need more.”

At a stoplight, Tom looked over at you, his eyes dark. Shit, you knew what that meant. “Hands off, baby,” his fingers slowly regained their original speed. “Relax. I just want you to feel.” 

The car revved, sending vibrations to your clit for a moment before your hips ground against his hand. You wanted him to let you both give in to the tension, have him fuck you deep and hard to let it go. You’d missed this so much, the intense intimacy. You weren’t sure how long you had left until you got to his place but god, you needed this.

You glanced back over at his handsome face, the urge to kiss his birthmark and bite at his neck consumed your already fogged brain. Clenching his jaw, he sped his fingers up slightly, earning another moan from you as he rubbed circles against your clit.

Breath heavy, you felt your nipples pebbling up against your lace bra. Tom noticed too and swallowed hard. God, he wanted his mouth on you. 

“Tom, I–”

“Shh,” he slipped his index and middle finger into you. Yes, God, yes. Your nerves were screaming with delight. “Come on, baby. Let’s see if you can cum before we get home.” Holy fuck.

His fingers and your hips synchronized, his palm bumping your clit deliciously as you became drunk with sensation. Your moans became higher and louder as you felt the pressure build right where you wanted it to. Just a little more…

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” Tom hit that spot and you tried to anchor yourself by grabbing the door handle and his uniform sleeve, your muscles clenching as your nails desperately dug into the fabric. You tightened around his fingers as he helped you ride out your high, your hand clamped around his wrist as your hips involuntarily chased the sensation. Your face was scorching as he gently pulled his fingers away and eagerly sucked them into his mouth just as he turned into his driveway. Still getting your breathing under control, you heard Tom finish off cleaning his fingers as he opened the door to get to you.

He’d only given you one orgasm and you swore that your legs already felt like jelly as he gently pulled you from the car. No kiss, just hasty movements as you both wanted to give in to the craving of each other. It consumed you, burning from inside.

Tom made quick work of the front door, slamming you against it as soon as the lock was replaced. Finally, you could touch him. And you did, everywhere. Your hands trailed over his uniform, buttons and insignia bumping underneath the pads of your fingers as you attempted to undo part of his high collar. His mouth pressed against yours as he caged you from both sides, a feral need seeping through that he was desperately trying to control. Tom never touched you unless you gave the okay and in that moment, he thought he would go insane without the feeling of you. It infuriated you that he was such a gentleman, but you appreciated it anyway.

“God, Tom, I need you to fucking touch me before I lose my goddamn mind,” his lips trailed down to your neck as his hands found your waist, a dark chuckle ringing in your ears.

“Needy, are we?” your eyes fluttered closed as he sucked underneath your jaw, tongue soothing the marked skin. His fingers found the zipper of your dress without hesitation and he slowly pulled the tab down, his eyes catching yours as he peeled it off. 

“You have no idea, Lieutenant,” collar opened, his mouth moved back to yours as you felt around the buttons to strip the jacket from his shoulders. Tom’s hands move from your waist to your chest, cupping your breasts through your black lace lingerie, his favorite. Thumbs trailing over your already hard nipples, he smiled against your mouth as you let out a squeak for him. He knew your nipples were sensitive and fucking hell if he didn’t take advantage of that fact.

“Fuck,” Tom said in between kisses. You can’t help but giggle as you both take a breather, his hands still exploring your chest and thumbs swiping along the peaks. 

“Do you have to be such a guy sometimes?” you give him a quick kiss. “Why do you have so many layers, Lieutenant?” you ask, grabbing his undershirt from his pants to pull over his head. His arms bulged as he helped you take his shirt the rest of the way off, your mouth watering at the sight of his toned chest. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you go in for another kiss and lick his bottom lip playfully. He gives you a sassy bite back, his teeth popping together, a sound that you didn’t realize turned you on. Your hands moved along his shoulders and back as he attacked your neck, leaving love bites that made you quiver. His hands drift from your breasts down to your thighs, an unofficial focal point for his fetishes. Cupping your thigh, he hikes your leg up around his waist and takes the opportunity to grind against the thin lace of your lingerie, earning him another eager moan from you. His movements were feverish and desperate, searching for any sensation possible.

Fingers gripping his hair, you pull him back to your mouth. “Jump,” he says, breaking away from you. He catches your other thigh underneath his strong hands, pushing you away from the door. 

He swiftly guided you to his bedroom, hands massaging your legs as his lips and teeth met your collarbone, dark marks blooming on your skin. You fell into the mattress, arms resting above your head as Tom stood at the edge of the bed admiring your state, so desperate for him. A smirk came across his face as you bit your lip while he worked his belt. Excited, you hoisted yourself up to help but he gently grabbed your hands, shaking his head. Instead, his fingers worked the band of your bra, unclipping it with ease and sliding it down your arms. Eyes never leaving yours, he tossed it to the floor before giving you a kiss to finish the work on his belt. His tongue gently dipped into your mouth as he pinned you against the sheets, hands locking with yours as he pushed them back above your head.

Needing to feel your thighs, he trailed one hand down to your leg as he moved his mouth to your chest. You gasped as his lips left tender kisses along your skin before wrapping his lips around your nipple. Fingers tangled in his bleached locks as he sucked and soothed with kitten licks, desire pooling between your thighs. Instinctively, your legs widened for him as you craved more pressure on your clit. Sensitivity from the first orgasm lingered, but you didn’t care. Your hips thrust impatiently against his white slacks, the fabric offering slight relief. Tom caught on, slowly releasing your nipple with a brief pop of his lips and glancing up at you with his chin resting on your breasts. Your heavy breathing forced his head to bob up and down, his eyes following your own.

Suddenly, Tom’s gaze filled with determination. You knew where he was going, his commanding nature taking over as his hands grazed your inner thighs. His eyes fluttered as he plucked at your skin. 

“I want you to cum on my face, baby,” he kissed between your breasts. “I want to feel your thighs shake,” fingers tapped along your covered folds. His lips worked down your body, stopping to give your stomach a playful bite that left you shrieking and giggling. 

“Tom!” another giggle.

“I almost forgot just how ticklish you are,” his breath made your stomach tense, preparing for another bite that didn’t come. Reaching your core, he gripped your hips to pull you towards the edge of the bed. Another kiss over your clothed clit made you whine, lips raw from your teeth and his kisses. His breath caressed your skin as he gently hooked his fingers around your underwear, teasingly nipping your thighs as he pulled them to your ankles. You heard the soft landing after they’d been thrown, Tom diving back between your thighs as he rested your legs on his shoulders.

A delicate kiss covered your clit before you felt a flat tongue run up your entire slit. You were enveloped in sensation, hands running down your face as you felt drunk with another lick. You knew your skin would be decorated with evidence of his affection for days and you absolutely burned for it. Tom knew it too, a smile delving into your folds. He alternated kissing, slurping, and teasing with his fingers as he held you down to the mattress, sheets warm and soft against your back. Your arousal coated his mouth and chin with a slight sheen.

“Missed this,” he moaned, the pads of his fingers running along your slick folds before his tongue flicked your clit.

“L-Lieutenant!”

“Missed your taste,” his tongue flickered against your slit, his blue-green eyes locking with yours as you pushed up onto your elbows. His face was flushed and glossy. “The way these fucking thighs quiver,” he lovingly bites your inner thigh, lips sucking at the skin until it bloomed purple. You do just that, muscles shivering as his tongue returns to your clit, a noisy slurp filling the room as you watch his jaw flex with his tongue.

He huffs out a dark chuckle against your skin as his mouth brings you closer to the edge, hips bucking against his face. “You fucking like that, huh?” you nodded meekly as he smirked.

“Yes, Tom, yes!”

He groans, slipping his fingers back into you as he continues his work on your clit, synchronizing his movements as your moans become breathier and louder. Tom knew what that meant, pulling away just for a moment.

“Say it, baby,” a brief suck on your clit. “I want to hear you.”

“I want–fuck,” the sly devil thrust his fingers in time with his lips against your clit. “I want to cum again. Please let me cum again, Lieutenant.” You didn’t care that you sounded so meek; you knew that you both needed this.

Tom’s perfectionism always presented itself at the best of times; his fingers, lips, and tongue collaborated to beckon you further into euphoria. The snap hits you like a freight train, your body convulsing as you let out a silent scream. Behind your eyes, you saw a galaxy of colors and bursts of stars that radiated through your entire body. Tom is right there with you the whole time, tongue gently lapping up your juices. A loud slurp sends extra shivers across your body as your chest begs for more air. Limbs giving in to the release, you felt weightless as Tom drank you in.

“Just like that,” Tom said between your thighs, voice dripping with lust. “You did so well for me, baby.”

Thighs quivering and breath shaky, your hands delicately ran through his hair as he placed gentle kisses along your legs before moving up your body. You had kept your eyes shut, the wave having passed but still lingering with an intensity that you’d never experienced. Tom was careful with his hands, avoiding your clit as he gently cupped your breast before offering a sweet kiss on your lips. Slowly, you felt the frustration of the last five weeks chip away, the routine of love making resettling into your brain as you remembered that Tom’s bare minimum was three orgasms for you. One more to go. Your body felt like it was on fire.

His hands held your face tenderly, your skin still feeling electrically charged with every touch. It was almost too much. Almost. Opening your eyes, you stare at Tom’s face and reconnect with all of his features. That bleached hair, his strong brows, inset blue-green eyes, noticeable nose, plump lips and perfect teeth. You wanted to run your fingers over every single detail, close your eyes as you trace him to memory. Running your hands down his chest, you head for his belt and slacks, knowing that he had to feel tighter against the fabric. Lips connected, you fumbled with his pants to slide them down his legs along with his briefs. His length pressed against you as your fingers glided back over his muscles to wrap around him.

Now it was his turn to give himself over to the sensations, the pleasure, the intensity. Gentle strokes caused his lips to fumble against yours, a groan filling the empty space between heaving breaths. A smug smile came across your mouth as you felt him melt into your touch, muscles rippling underneath your fingers. In that moment, you felt a twinge of power watching Tom slowly unravel above you. All with just your fingers. Checkmate. You flip him over onto the mattress to straddle his hips, sitting back against his thighs as you let his hands wander over your skin. 

“It’s my turn, Lieutenant,” you gasped, slowly gliding your slit over him to tease. Tom bit his lip, fingers grabbing your hips as you continued to move. He wanted more. You knew it, too, but damn if you’d let him have it that easily. Bending back over him, your thumb traced his lips. Tom understood the cue, opening his mouth as your lips pressed against his, your tongues battling for dominance. His fingers trailed along your sides, featherlight touches causing you to break the kiss in breathy giggles. You heard his hearty laugh as his lips dipped along your neck, sucking at the delicate purple tinged skin before soothing it with his tongue. God, this man drove you insane. You felt your slick collect along his length and stomach, your clit sparking with each movement.

Pulling his lips away from the bloomed skin of your neck, you kiss him deeply before snaking your hand between your bodies to guide his length into you. He craved that profound intimacy, the connection that stirred in the moment only to be shared with the two of you. You were his safe place and this bond with you kept him sane. He’d been deprived of it for five weeks, his body urging it back as you slowly slid yourself down his length. Pairs of gasps filled the room, foreheads pressing against each other as you both savored the feeling, welcoming it back eagerly. 

Tom licked his lips, palms warm and resting on your hips. “God, baby, I missed you so much,” another kiss. “You have no idea.”

“I missed you, too,” your lips recapture him in a deeper lock. “Let me show you how much.”

Pressing your palms against his chest to steady yourself as you sit up, your hips begin to move. Tom lets his head go slack against the pillow as he feels your warm heat consume him. Gently pushing his hips up, he tightens his grip as he tries to match your rhythm. Your moans came steadily as you controlled the pace, feeling him everywhere: under your thighs, inside your core, against your palms. Your skin felt like it was on fire but you welcomed the heat without hesitation.

Needing more, you quicken your thrusts. Tom’s throat bobs as his moans join yours. In a brief haze, you feel one of his hands leave your hips and hear him suck on a finger before swirling it around your clit as you rock against him harder. You moan, throwing your head back as you push against his chest for more leverage. Teetering on the edge, you needed more. As if he read your mind, Tom quickly shoots into a seated position, arms casing you in as he claims your mouth to swallow your gasps. The new angle was deliciously attentive to your clit, your body shivered with bliss.

“You’re mine, baby,” Tom cupped your face as your hands cling to his shoulders. His hips continued to meet yours with each word and pant.

“Yours…and you’re mine,” you gasp, his eyes glossy and mouth swollen as he nods against your forehead. You offer another deep kiss before he tucks his face into your neck, cheek resting just above your breast. His breath left your skin damp as you felt the band tighten in your belly with each thrust. You involuntarily clench as he hit the perfect spot, both of you moaning as his hand cups your breast.

“Close, sweetheart?” Tom asks. You nod as he grabs your hips and presses you back against the bed. You squeal at the urgency, his hips snapping into you with a frenzied pace. Tom licked his thumb, pressing it to your clit as he smiled before sucking a nipple into his mouth. You felt delirious, your body experiencing everything all at once. Your thighs throbbed as you heard Tom’s groans against your chest, his efforts to keep everything in perfect unison crumbling as he catapulted himself towards his own release. You knew what was next, your body craved the routine of it.

“T-Tom,” you moaned, his thrust hitting deep into you. “Fuck, just like that. Please, please don’t stop!” your voice broke into a cry. Surely, if he stopped, you would be driven to madness. Your body already reached its peak twice with Tom now beckoning for a third and you were happy to oblige that standard. He kept his pace, your arms pulling him close as your core quivered around him. Vision fading in and out, you gave yourself to the third wave of the night as your thighs seemed to vibrate around his waist, heels digging into his lower back. You clung to him as an anchor, afraid you’d disappear into nothing but sensation. 

Tom followed you shortly after, spilling his release into you with a strangled groan. With the wave crashing through, you couldn’t help but take in his beautiful features once again. The sweat on his hairline, his red and swollen lips, purple blooming across his skin, his length twitching inside you as he chased the remainder of his high. God, he was so handsome like this. His fingers left your clit, a hiss escaping your mouth as you felt a twinge of overstimulation rack your body, your eyes fluttering shut. He carefully pulled out, trembling as your fingers stretched across his back, his skin burning against your fingertips. 

Propping himself up on an elbow, he trailed his index finger back up your stomach, circling your nipple before he gently took your hand in his. Your breathing steadied as he smiled and kissed your palm, placing it on his cheek. Five weeks and here you were, completely fucked into oblivion with three orgasms to show for it. Tom’s gaze had shifted from lust filled to love struck as he let his fingers trace your features, your cheeks flushed and glowing. 

“Why didn’t you want me here?” you outlined Tom’s jaw with your fingers. 

Tom glanced away for a moment, inhaling sharply as he was contemplating his answer. You couldn’t lie to yourself and say that you weren’t stung by his insistence of no visits. He knew you would have flown here just for a day if it meant you could have this. Not just the sex but the time with him. It’s not as though you were naive of what being the partner of a fighter pilot meant. You knew Tom would be at the beck and call of the government, going wherever they sent him without question. No, you knew that and you’d accepted it a long time ago. But this felt different. This wasn’t the government placing him somewhere classified where he couldn’t get specific other than say he saw the same moon at night. This was Tom deliberately keeping you away, blocking you out. 

“I–” you swallowed, palm cupping his cheek to gently urge him back to you. “I am not trying to accuse or start anything,” Tom licked his lips. “I just–I would like to know why.”

Tom was silent but you could see the cogs turning as he worked out a response. You didn’t want him to shut down. 

“Am I–am I a distraction for you?” you asked, hesitant to get the words out. 

Immediately, Tom grasped your wrist, staring down at you. “No, sweetheart! No, it’s not that.”

You bit your lip again. “Did you need some time apart?”

Tom sighed. “No, baby. It’s not what you think.”

“Then just tell me, please.”

After a moment, your brows knit together as you watched his face. “I can’t stand saying goodbye to you,” his thumb brushed your cheekbone. “I wanted you here but ever since what happened with Cougar’s meltdown I just–I lost it for a minute. And then Goose–You know, they tell us that if we fly long enough, shit like that will happen. Our job is dangerous. We lose people. Just part of the gig,” he took a second to collect his thoughts, his hand running down your hip. “I know you’ve accepted the reality of having to say goodbye to me,” he gave your hip a comforting squeeze. “After Goose’s accident, I started thinking that maybe I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to you.”

“I’m right here, Tom.”

“I know. It’s just–I have to accept it won’t get easier. I’ve got a lot to lose and that scares the shit out of me.”

Your hands gently stroke Tom’s cheeks as you kiss the tip of his nose. “I’m here, right here, right now. You just have to accept what is. What we have right now is pretty damn good, Lieutenant. Shit, this entire time I was thinking in the back of my mind that you might want to break up with me or something.”

“Fuck, no! Are you kidding?”

“Well, you did bar me from visiting, asshat,” you playfully slapped his shoulder.

“I won’t make that mistake, I promise,” he kissed your fingers, tucking them underneath his chin as you settled under the sheets. He glanced at you lovingly, pulling your arm so you’d lay on his chest. One hand ran up and down your back as he stroked your arm with the other.

“I love you, Tom,” you kissed his chest, eyes closed as you nuzzled his skin.

You felt his lips fall on your hair as he kissed your head. “I love you, baby.”

In the morning, you got up with Tom to help him with his deployment routine. While he showered, you took the liberty of packing his duffle making sure to iron his uniforms and pack extra flight suits. You felt like you were moving through molasses as the soreness between your legs had presented itself with a raging intensity. Tom’s surprise morning quickie at six hadn’t helped you but amused him as he watched you get out of the bed like a baby deer learning to walk. 

“Fuck you, Tom Kazansky.”

“Oh, you have, baby. Multiple times,” that earned him a pillow to the head before he escaped to the bathroom.

You didn’t realize just how much you missed your routine with Tom until then. You missed the domesticity of everyday things: packing his bag, getting the coffee going, setting out his pressed shirts so that he could have the honor of folding them in his special way. This was one of the things you craved the most, being present in his life with the simpler tasks. You always believed that cliche was true because now you could say you were the walking, talking, breathing embodiment of said cliche.

Tom stepped out of the bathroom dressed in his basic white shirt, jeans, and boots. His hair was still damp as he wrapped his arms around you to rest his chin on your shoulder while you finished pouring the coffee. Turning your head, you gave him a quick kiss before handing him a mug. 

“Thank you, baby,” He gulped three times before coming up for air, your first sip barely swallowed. You laughed from behind your mug. “Oh, did you pack the–”

“Extra snacks for you and Slider in the bonus pocket? Tell Slider I couldn’t find the regular jerky he likes so he’ll have to live with the turkey kind for this go-around.”

Tom smiled, tugging you into another hug. You’d forgotten how clingy he was during mornings like this, not that you were complaining. Burying your nose in his chest, you could smell the amber and sandalwood aftershave you’d bought him as an anniversary present. You were happy you remembered to spray his “borrowed” sweatshirt with it before he left. Tom would never admit it, but he found your little rituals for him to be comforting and adorable. He loved that you thought of little details like packing his bag with snacks for both himself and Slider, extra shoe polish, pressed shirts, pictures; it made him feel proud in a weird way.

Pulling your face from his chest, you both glance at the clock. Almost time or he’ll get his ass chewed out. Graduating with the TopGun award and being late to his first official deployment as the best of the best wouldn’t be a good look. Reluctantly, Tom pulled his arms from you, kissing your forehead as you sighed. Grabbing his duffle, he slung it over his shoulders as you walked with him to the front door.

“You’ll be here when I get back?”

“Your mom and I have some stuff planned,” you ran your fingers over his t-shirt. “Miramar seems super captivating.”

Tom chuckles at your tone, drinking up the sarcasm. You quickly wrap your arms tightly around his neck, standing on your toes. His hands clutch your waist, thumbs rubbing your exposed skin from your lifted sweatshirt.

“Hurry back to me, soldier,” you whisper against his ear, kissing his jaw as he pulls you back for another kiss.

“Always will.”

[multific]

Mistake

Patrick Bateman x Reader

Summary: After finding out that you were pregnant, you only saw one option and that is to run away from your husband.

As soon as the doctor said ‘pregnant’ you knew you needed to do something. You knew how possessive Patrick can be.

You feared he might hurt the baby.

And so, you decided to leave him.

One day, when he went to work, you got back to your shared apartment and packed your things. You left a note behind, letting him know you needed to get away and that he shouldn’t look for you. And you left.

Although it broke your heart, you knew you needed to do this, for your child.

‘For the baby.’ you often said this in your head as you left. As you packed your things and as you got into the taxi.

You loved Patrick, so so much it hurt. But you also knew that if he was to flip, he might hurt the baby, and you couldn’t let that happen.

Patrick was an incredibly jealous person. If someone was to even look at you the wrong way, he would kill them.

If you imagine that possessiveness with a baby, who would take up most of your time, your mind always went to dark places.

You tried to convince yourself that he is better than that, that he would be happy with a baby.

But the dark thoughts didn’t leave you alone. 

Not even when you left.

If anything it got worse.

You were now all alone, with a baby under your heart and a husband you left behind. You couldn’t look into the mirror.

There wasn’t a moment when you didn’t think about Patrick. The amazing moments you had together and how genuinely happy you were. You were the only person besides himself whom he cared about. But then why did you leave? Why did your instinct tell you to get as far away from him as you can when you learned about your baby?

Was it fear? 

More than just fear. 

But deep down you were ashamed. Not because of your pregnancy or because of Patrick. You were ashamed that you felt the need to run away from your husband in a moment like this, you felt like something was wrong with you for feeling this way.

Moving into a new city had its advantages and disadvantages. 

You started using your maiden name again, but the gorgeous engagement and wedding ring you received from Patrick was always on your finger.

After all, you still loved him.

***

Eight months later, you were living in a nice apartment, with a healthy baby under your heart growing every day, bigger and bigger.

The doctor told you that you are having a boy. You were thrilled.

You got everything for him already and his room was ready as well. Although you didn’t have much money, you managed to buy everything he will ever need.

And soon, your son was born.

Beautiful, healthy baby boy.

Nicholas Y/L/N was born during the summer, July 5th.

The most beautiful baby you have ever seen. He was just the cutest.

Of course, you had been holding him for barely a minute but you already noticed features he got from his father, at least he had your nose.

***

Having a baby was harder than it seems.

Nick constantly woke up in the middle of the night, seemingly for no reason. He wanted to be held at all times, nurtured, and craved attention. And it was normal.

You barely got any sleep, but every single time he smiled, giggled, or laughed, you forgot everything else. All that mattered was his toothless little smile.

You stayed mostly at home, only leaving the apartment to the store once a week. Then you had to bring him back to the doctor so she could check on him. The doctor was wonderful. She explained everything and even talked to you about vaccinations and when you will have to bring Nick in for those. 

You started to forget Patrick, only your son’s eyes reminded you from time to time, but you started to be happy again

Happy with your little man.

But then things changed.

One day, while Nick was in the bedroom and you were making lunch, the doorbell rang.

If you knew who it was, you probably didn’t open the door.

But you didn’t check through the peephole, so, you came face to face with him.

He looked the same as you left him.

Handsome, hair done to perfection, his Armani suit didn’t have one crease in it and his Dior perfume caught your nose.

“Patrick...” suddenly all the fear you had during the nine months, came back at the same time. 

“Found you.” he simply said.

You noticed something in his hand. A piece of paper.

“Are you going to let me in?” he asked and you didn’t know what to do, you were frozen in one place, heart hammering so hard you feared a heart attack.

“W-What do you want?” you tried to look strong at you clanged onto the door.

You honestly don’t remember letting him in, and yet here he was sitting in front of you at your table.

He placed the paper in his hand in front of you

The paper was scrunched, torn a little at some places and the ink on it was certainly old.

“I read the letter you wrote,” he said pointing at the paper. “I read it over and over. ‘I can’t go on like this.’ ‘I love you, but...’ and it doesn’t make any sense. You were happy. You were mine. I bought you everything you wanted. Why did you leave?”

His voice was very collected. It was alarming, but you soon realized he is not there to hurt you.

“How did you find me?”

“Tim was on a business trip here and he said he saw you. Why did you leave Y/N?”

You took a deep breath, tears threatening to fall.

“I-” you were immediately interrupted by a loud cry. Your eyes widened as you looked from the door back to Patrick.

“A baby?” you heard him ask as you rushed out of the kitchen into your son’s room.

You got him into your arms and started bouncing him. Nick slowly quieted down as you turned and found Patrick watching you from the doorway. You heard the cogs in his head turn as he looked at the baby.

“How old is he?” was the question he asked but he didn’t move.

You were afraid to answer.

“Two months.” you ended up saying after a long pause.

“So, he’s mine.” you watched Patrick closely, but he didn’t move, didn’t show emotion on his face, but his eyes, his eyes said it all.

He was angry and concerned. You could tell suddenly the letter you left behind made sense to him.

“Let’s talk in the kitchen,” you said as you placed the now sleeping Nick into his crib.

Patrick moved back as you closed the door behind yourself.

With a shaky breath, you walked back into the kitchen and plopped down on the chair.

You know there was no point in hiding it now.

All you could hope for is that Patrick wouldn’t hurt you.

“I want my baby to have a fair chance in life, and I couldn’t give it to them if I stayed with you,” you said as he sat down on his chair.

“Why are you saying that?” his voice was dangerously calm and collected.

“I was afraid okay? I couldn’t stop thinking about you hurting the baby.” tears were running down your face, you felt a pain in your chest. 

Patrick sat down on the couch, letting out a long sigh. He was angry, but he was good at hiding it.

“I wouldn’t have.” he finally said.

And it shocked you.

He sounded so sincere, even hurt by the accusation. 

“I told you, many times, I could never hurt you.”

“I know. But a baby is...different. Nick takes up all of my time. I know how possessive you can be. I know how jealous you can be and what you can do. I wouldn’t want that to happen.”

Patrick leaned back in his chair.

“His name is Nick?”

You nodded once. “Nicholas Y/L/N.” 

“We are changing that to Bateman. He’s my son, he should have my name,” he said as a matter of fact. “I thought when you left that you found someone or you had enough of my... habits.”

“No, that wasn't why, and I’m sorry. I should have told you. But the scenarios kept on coming out of nowhere and I couldn’t...”

“Apology accepted. Now pack your things and the baby stuff. My wife and son deserve more than this...place.” he said looking around with a disgusted expression. You watched him leave the kitchen but you didn’t move. Everything was so fast.

After a long minute, you stood up and headed to your room, as you passed Nick’s room, you noticed the door was open.

As you looked inside you saw Patrick standing by the crib with one hand stocking Nick’s chubby cheeks. 

As you looked at your husband you soon realized what a mistake you made when you left him.

You were so scared before but as you watched the man who you married to be so gentle with your son, you knew, you can do this.

And so, you moved along to your bedroom to pack your things so the three of you can be a family.

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[quindolyn]

Hiiii i heard a headcannon that james potter would love shower sex and i was wondering wether you could write something like that? No specific’s do whatever you want with it just sex in the shower ;)

 You in Here? || James Potter

Word Count: 2268

A/N: I hate this perhaps more than anything I’ve ever written but I need to write if only to remind myself that I still can because sidofhdfwqifbr. I feel like I haven’t been productive in weeks and posting is gonna hopefully help me with that. I’ve hated other things I’ve posted as well and y’all seemed to react positively to those so who the hell knows.

Warnings: Degradation, daddy kink, kinda proof read, little bit of exhibitionism 

Masterlist

“Jamie,” You called out, your voice echoing as it bounced back off the tiled walls of the Quidditch showers. 

You hadn’t been able to grab James after the Quidditch game, where he’d led him and his team to victory, before he had headed off towards the locker room, being stopped by Dobson who was subbing in as keeper for the game. The team’s usual keeper in the hospital wing with a bad case of blood poisoning he’d contracted from an unfortunate Care of Magical Creatures lesson. 

You’d never really given much thought to the boy as he was a year below you and you didn’t much run in the same circles but neither of those facts seemed to discourage him as he pulled you aside after the game.

His desperate and frankly pathetic attempts to flirt with you, the team captain’s girlfriend, had stalled you too long apparently as by the time you’d managed to break free of his bad pickup lines and clumsy winks James was nowhere in sight and Sirius had to direct you towards the showers where he’d seen him disappear into. 

And now stumbling around the locker room looking for your boyfriend you followed the sound of running water to the back corner of the showers.

“There you are,” You murmured as his dripping form came into view. Blocked by a sheet of warped glass all you could make out of his figure was the outline of his strong physique as he twisted and turned to let the water wash over his ridiculously toned body.

“James?” Your voice lilted up in a question as you wrapped your knuckles against the glass of the door.

“(Y/N/N)? What are you doing in here?” He asked, his voice rough which you assumed was from screaming over the roaring wind to communicate with his teammates. 

What you hadn’t noticed before escaping James’ subordinate was the aforementioned boy lurking a few feet away, jaw clenched, the vein in his forehead pulsing as he glared down the boy who seemed to have abandoned all of his inhibitions.

Though you had missed him, James most certainly hadn’t missed you and heading off to the showers he’d hoped that a hot shower would soothe the possessiveness bubbling up in his stomach but it had not had the desired effect. 

“Came looking for you Jamesie,” You explained, “Wanted to congratulate you,” A sly smirk tugged at the corners of your lips, painted a brilliant red as you began shedding the numerous layers of clothing you’d been bundled up in to shield yourself from the biting wind.

“Why don’t you congratulate that Dobson kid?” The edge to James’ voice was impossible to miss.

You frowned as you reached around your now nearly bare torso, having made quick work of your top layers, to unclasp your bra, shrugging it off of your shoulders to let it fall to the ground. Left in only your panties you spared a glance over your shoulder before abandoning those as well and opening the door to the shower.

Even after all this time you still had to stop your jaw from dropping whenever you saw James’ body, the defined muscles of his abs, the way they shifted in his back as he reached for things and just went about with his daily business.

His legs. Those fucking legs.

And don’t even get you started on his arms because you could go on and on for hours about them, about every part of him quite frankly.

You stood dumbstruck outside the shower cubicle before James pulled you in by your arm before someone walked in and saw you naked. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” The boy growled, towering over you as he wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you tucked into his strong chest. You could feel his half hard cock pressing against your stomach as one hand drifted to your ass, squeezing it to the point of pain before releasing and smacking the afflicted area with the palm of his hand. The burning hot water didn’t help either with the pain as it washed over your backside, amplifying the sting from your boyfriend’s harsh touch.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You asked incredulously, having no clue what he was talking about. “That hurt.”

“Good,” He responded curtly, returning his tight hold on the supple flesh of your bottom, squeezing even more harshly than before, no doubt leaving bruises in the shape of his fingers. 

“S’ what you deserve after teasing me like that with that fucking prat, and then right now, standing naked in the middle of the locker room, anyone could’ve walked in at any point and seen your arse.”

“No one was gonna just-”

You were cut off by his fingers meeting the side of your face more harshly than you anticipated.

“Ow,” You squeaked, “Was that necessary?”

Growing more and more frustrated James pushed his index and middle finger past your slightly parted lips, shoving his long fingers further and further until the tips of his rough, calloused digits bumped the back of your throat and had you struggling to breathe as he triggered your gag reflex.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” He grumbled, catching your wrist with his hand before you were able to grab at the wrist of the hand gagging you, “First flirting with that little prick and now talking back to me, who the fuck do you think you are?”

Your response was garbled as you tried to speak around his fingers, but no matter what you were trying to say it was muffled even more as he pushed his fingers even further down your throat. 

A sick smile grazed his face as you gagged violently, tears slipping from your tear ducts and rolling down your face in twin rivers, collecting in pools at the curve of your jaw.

“Oh don’t cry baby,” He cooed mockingly, pulling his fingers from your mouth, allowing you to take deep gulps of air as he moved his hands to cup your jaw, his thumbs wiping away your tears.

One hand trailed from your face, down your torso, pausing at your tit to take the nipple between his fingers, pinching harshly and pulling a strangled gasp from your lips as the action sent pleasure mixed with a healthy amount of pain zipping up your spine. 

Eventually finding his way to your pussy James ran his index finger through your sopping folds, smiling cavalierly at the pool of slick he found there.

“Fucking pathetic,” He muttered, staring at his finger as it teased your cunt, “You got off on that?” He asked, lifting his visage to meet yours, “You got off on Daddy fucking choking you with his fingers?”

After a beat of held eye contact, you realized that it wasn’t a rhetorical question and that the man in front of you expected an answer. 

“Yes, Daddy.” 

Satisfied with your response James’ gaze dropped back to your pussy where he was now lifting up your clitoral hood, exposing your sensitive bundle of nerves to his touch.

“What was that you said about congratulating me slut?” He asked, harshly pinching your clit between his thumb and forefinger, smirking as you whimpered and brought your hand up to clasp his bicep, supporting yourself as you felt your knees weakening. 

The pleasure he could bring you from just his fingers was enough to have you in a puddle by his feet, clawing at his ankles and begging for more.

“Think as a reward I’d like to mark you up, show everyone how much of a desperate whore my baby is. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes Daddy, wanna be your slut.”

“My whore,” He corrected.

“Your whore.”

At your agreement James latched his lips onto the side of your neck, sucking vicious hues of purple and blue into the delicate skin that resided there.

“Fuck,” You swore, tipping your head back so that he could have even better access to your skin.

A pathetic whine slipped from your trembling lips as James pulled away from your neck, instead attaching them to yours, delicately brushing his against your own. As you tried to lean forward, wanting to deepen the kiss you felt James’ hand bury itself in your damp hair, gripping tightly at the root, using his hold to keep your head in place as he pulled back.

“No swearing pretty girl,” He murmured as his lips brushed yours ever so lightly against yours, “Pretty babies don’t swear, yeah?” 

He peppered kisses across your lips as you nodded your agreement, tickling your skin before finally deepening the kiss as you so desperately wanted. You savored the taste of his lips as his tongue delved into your mouth, exploring the warm expanse before mingling his tongue with yours. 

You were no match for his aggression as he dominated your tongue pulling a moan from the depths of your belly where you felt a know tightening as the slick between your legs continued to collect in a pool of your own arousal.

“Gonna show you how good I can make you feel,” James promised, crouching to loop his arms underneath your thighs, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist, and moving to support your bum as he backed you into the wall, using that to help support your weight. 

“Gonna show you how good I can make you feel when you’re mine.”

“Please Daddy,” You begged, pleading eyes looking up at him as you pushed your bottom lip out in a pathetic display of your submission, “Want your cock please.”

It was funny really, how quickly you went from feisty to his submissive slut. And you didn’t even have his cock yet.

Your begging spurring James on, he didn’t bother restraining himself any longer and instead pushed his cock into your warm, pulsing pussy.

A cry tore its way through your throat as he didn’t even bother to ease his way in, not wanting to wait another second, just wanting to be inside of you.

“Shh,” He hissed, clasping a strong hand over your mouth, hanging wide open as you barely had control over yourself to keep your eyes open, much less make the conscious effort to keep your mouth closed in order to keep in the moans and whimpers that shamelessly tumbled from your agape mouth.

James’ pace was relentless as he thrusted in and out of you, watching as his cock appeared then disappeared as he moved in and out of your cunt, your pussy squeezing him to an almost painful degree.

“So fucking pretty,” He swore, palming your tits with his strong hands, leaving your nipples hard as he pinched them again, just as he did earlier, watching the look on your face as he twisted them to the point of pain. 

You snapped your mouth shut so that you wouldn’t let out a curse, not wanting to disobey Jamie. 

“Mine, all mine,” Jamie grumbled as he let go of your boobs, preferring to watch them bounce as he sped up his thrusts, the spongy tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot, pulling a strangled sigh from you as you lost more and more of yourself in pleasure.

“All yours Daddy,” You agreed, leaning your head up against the cold tile of the shower wall as you focused on the pleasure James was bringing you with every deep thrust. 

“That’s right slut,” James said, remembering his earlier frustration, “If s’all mine, all f’me then what the hell are you doing talking to that little dick?”

His hard gaze met yours and though they were swimming with lust it did nothing to dilute the seriousness they held, making it clear to you that he expected an answer.

“Didn’t mean to Daddy, didn’t mean to be naughty,” You explained, hoping that he would realize that you really had had no mal intent in speaking with the boy, you just hadn’t wanted to be rude.

Seemingly paying your response no mind James attached his lips to your collar bone, laving his tongue over it before retracing his steps and sucking marks that matched the ones he’d previously left on your neck. 

As he worked to paint your skin in rich hues he lifted your hips so that he could reach even further depths inside of you, sheathing himself completely inside of you before pulling back out, all while moving his fingers to your clit, where they had once previously resided. 

The combined stimulation of him so deep inside of you and his strong fingers on your clit had the knot in your belly tightening as the stimulation on your clit sent tendrils of pleasure shooting up your back.

It was all too much, the overwhelming stimulation from his cock combined with his fingers pinching and rolling your sensitive bundle of nerves between the pads of his fingers, and the steady streams of scalding water warming your skin almost had you forgetting to ask to cum as you felt the pleasure boiling up in the depths of your tummy. 

“D-Daddy may I-”

You were cut off by the sound of the locker room door slamming open quickly followed by the rumbling of voices.

“Potter!” One of them called out, “You in here?”

Recognizing the voice as that belonging to none other than the very boy who had landed you in your small predicament you studied James’ face, with wide piteous eyes as the sound of footsteps slapping against the tile floor approached your little enclave.

James smiled deviously at you before responding, “Yeah, we’re back here.”

tagging:@randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @pinkandblueblurbs @st0nesnglitter @thatvenusbabe @itsmentalillness @zzzfour @greenlyblue @emmaev @temporaryissue @gubleryum @msmb r @miraclesoflove @velmasteas @drachoesimp @ashlovesthemarauders

[salemwritesxx]

𝓲𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓭. | 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝔀𝓸

𝔹 𝔸 𝕂 𝕌 𝔾 𝕆 𝕌  𝕂 𝔸 𝕋 𝕊 𝕌 𝕂 𝕀

     ⇴ male reader [22, virgin]      ⇴ all characters are depicted as [18]+

↣ rating: explicit, 18+ ↣ warnings: over 5k words long, smut, Age Gap (12 years), older Bakugou (34), shy virgin reader, fluffy smut

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

“Mhmhm… Mh… Wait, Katsuki…san…”, you barely managed to mumble before breaking the kisses, both of you panting lightly.

“Huh?! I’ve waited too fucking long, [Your.name]!”, Bakugou growled while trying to pull you back down.

Though you managed to push him back a little before your boyfriend could aggressively kiss you once more.

“I know, just… let me take a shower first! I just came home from my 10 hour shift, threw my hero costume into the hallway and rushed over here.”

“Ughg, fine.”, Katsuki grumbled lightly, his hand that had held on to your shirt desperately, loosening.

A small smile flitted across your lips before you quickly smooched him.

“Thank you. Oh and- here.”, you pulled the two tickets you had talked about before out of your back pocket.

“Oh… right… You said you had tickets, hm?”

“Yup, a friend of mine works behind the scenes for the comedian we both really like. Remember? We talked about it?”, tilting your head lightly, your cute smile and shimmering eyes reminded Katsuki of an adorable little dog. The thought alone made him also smile a little – so innocent and cute.

“Yeah… On our first date. I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Of course! So, I used my connections to get us two tickets.”, you excitedly declared. It helped with the urge of not staring at your boyfriend who was still standing naked in front of you.

“So when are we going?”, Bakugou casually asked, looking at the two tickets to find a date.

“April next year! I am so exited already though.”, you giggled.

Meanwhile Bakugou’s heart was doing a flip in his chest. Next year in April meant that you were believing you and him would still be together by that time. Making plans so far ahead, how was he supposed not to get emotional and happy?

“Katsuki-sa- hm!”

Pulling you down again, he surprised you with yet another intimate kiss. Once again not knowing where to really put your hands, you awkwardly placed them on his lower back. Though feeling the bare skin under your fingertips was enough to send a strong jolt down south. Damn it, how were you going to survive actual sex?

“Go take a shower. And don’t let me wait too long.”, Bakugou finally said when he pulled back with a smirk on his lips that made your cheeks warm.

“Uh-huh!”, was your only dreamily sighed answer as you watched him for a moment, completely dazed. There he was, walking up the stairs so casually – butt-naked and making your dick hurt inside your jeans.

Thus, you literally sprinted into the bathroom to take the quickest shower while scrubbing yourself the cleanest you’ve ever been.

  Bakugou on the other hand couldn’t contain his grin when he stared at the tickets in his hands. He didn’t even know if you had realized the meaning behind those. Or maybe he was just overreacting seeing you plan ahead so much. It probably would have made him uncomfortable a few months ago, when he was freshly dating you, but now? Katsuki couldn’t stop his heart from beating so violently in his chest.

Walking over to the drawer, he prepared some things, like throwing the tube of lube onto the bed and rummaging through all the condoms that he hoarded. Without realizing it, his mind started wandering on its own. Not that anyone could really blame him. Bakugou had the desire to have sex with you for quite some time, so of course he had let his imagination take over. Wondering what you would look like without anything on. Since, to this day, you had been too shy to even undress in front of him.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t had any intimate contact with anyone ever since his last relationship ended four years ago. And suddenly, Bakugou’s heart hammered quickly for a different reason. It definitely had been a while since he had sex with anyone.

When Katsuki heard someone rushing up the stairs though, he quickly shook his head a bit, trying to get those thoughts out of his head.

“What am I fucking thinking? It’s just sex. No need to overthink this so much. God, I’m getting old.”

And then, you already came inside, a towel around your hips.

“Ah, good timing. So, do you think we need Large or Extra Large?”, Bakugou teased you, holding up two condoms. However, his teasing certainly flew over your head when your face displayed pure shock.

Only for you to turn around, wanting to flee again. Thankfully though, Bakugou reacted swiftly, grabbing your arm and turning you back around, just for your hands to cover your face.

“I will disappoint you, Katsuki-san!”

“Hey, that was just a joke, come on. You’re so fucking easy to scare.”, he chuckled and playfully rolled his eyes.

“Sorry…”, you mumbled shyly.

“Come here. Don’t think about it too hard. I ain’t grading you or anything, yeah? Just relax.”, and with that, he pulled you down for a kiss. His other hand sneaking to your hips and pulling on the towel. This time, you thankfully stayed calm as you let him push you back and onto the bed.

His muscular, broad body crawling on top of yours almost made you explode. This was really happening. How often had you imagined and dreamt about it? And now it was really going to happen.

“It’s just…”, you broke the kisses, your eyes already gleaming with lust, “I feel like I’m gonna explode any second, Katsuki-san. Just seeing you naked is enough to make me go crazy. To be honest… just thinking about you is enough to give me a boner. I feel so stupid!”

Bakugou was blushing a little, yet he was flattered. With his mind sometimes playing tricks on him and him fearing he was too old for you, knowing he had such an effect on you… was nice.

“That’s not stupid… You’re so cute.”, he whispered before leaning down again to kiss you.

“Touch me… You want to… no?”

“HMH!”, was the only thing you whimpered so desperately as Katsuki already grabbed your hand to place them onto his small, yet unbelievably strong body.

All it took was for Bakugou to scooch closer and lower his ass onto your hips for your cock to bounce and drops of precum to drip down. Your body visibly shuddering was honestly the best feeling, because your reactions were so cute and honest. Still so innocent to the touches. Katsuki loved that. He really felt incredibly desirable and wanted.

Your trembling hands were roaming his body, not sure what to do but you also didn’t want to stop. His muscles felt so nice underneath your palm. His skin was smooth and yet rough in some areas. Bakugou’s body was showing scars from previous battles, though it only made him so sexy and handsome it was almost too much for you.

At the end, you stopped when you grabbed his luscious thighs the moment he started to grind his cock against your own. An unstoppable moan escaped your throat instantly as you dug your nails into his skin whilst another violent jolt made your cock visibly throb.

Breaking away from your mouth eventually, Bakugou couldn’t help but smirk when he saw how red your lips already were from so much kissing. Leaning in, his swollen lips met your neck, softly nibbling and making you shudder once more. His smirk so prominent you could feel it on your skin.

“How do you feel, [Your.name]?”, Katsuki whispered in your ear, enjoying the soft moan and twitching of your body against his.

“Hot… It’s unfair you’re so… fucking sexy, Katsuki-san…”, you barely managed to choke out.

It only elicit a small chuckle from your boyfriend when he sat back up, his cheeks however having a small pink tint to them. You watched attentively as he reached to the side to grab the lube. Though before he could open the bottle, you stopped him.

“Wait, Katsuki-san, can… can I do it…?”, which definitely made your poor, shy heart beat ten times as fast as it was healthy.

“Haa… you sure?”, he reluctantly asked, one brow raised.

But you nodded and sat back up to wrap your arms around his hips while your noses almost touched.

“Mh. I want to make you feel good… and learn what you like…”, you sheepishly mumbled and then softly placed a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Oh…”, Bakugou smirked before wrapping his arms around your neck to kiss you, then whisper against your lips, “Then don’t hold back… I’ll serve as your guinea pig.”

Smirking yourself, you returned the kisses a little deeper, trying to get out the last bit of confidence you had in yourself as you mumbled back, “Then I will put in all my effort so you just need to come back for another round of experimenting.”

And Katsuki certainly liked that you slowly seemed to warm up and not be as nervous as before. His responds a mere chuckle only to capture your lips again for a passionate kiss.

Meanwhile, with your heavily thumping heart, you clumsily opened the lube bottle to squirt some of the liquid onto your fingers before throwing it back onto the bed after closing. Pulling back from your boyfriend’s mouth, you just looked at him for a few seconds to try and get the courage to touch him… Something you had never done before. Touching someone in such an intimate place.

Though before you could chicken out again, you finally reached down and dipped your fingers between his cheeks, the little shudder from Bakugou immediately spurring you on. Hence why you gave yourself the push to play with his ass; circling his twitching hole and rubbing the lube around, just to see him shiver a little.

“Oi… don’t tease…”, Katsuki could also just choke out, before softly moaning a little when you worked your finger inside.

Just the feeling of his warm insides around your finger alone made your cock twitch, the urge to just plunge into him was almost unbearable. Your own breathing quickened as you pushed another finger in before starting to move them. His muscular body was now pressed against your own, your free hand groping his ass to spread him even more.

“Haha- Ah- I guess… you’re a natural…?”, Bakugou chuckled, trying to sound cool and seductive as he wanted to keep the mask of the older and more experienced one. However, when you pushed deeper and found that little spot that made him whine, it was all over for him.

While you had to seriously fight back the urge to just cum all over him because he was just way too fucking sexy and made you completely insane with how erotic he was, Bakugou just let loose and moaned freely.

“D-Do that… ah- gain…”

You truthfully couldn’t believe that was actually happening. Your head was spinning as you moved your fingers like before, rubbing against his sweet spot, trying to memorize what made him feel good.

“I-Is that okay… Katsuki-san?”, you were lightly gasping. He was truly taking your breath away – you didn’t even want to know what would happen if you would actually have sex, your dick was probably going to explode the second you would enter with how on edge you already were.

“Hmh- keep… going, okay?”, Katsuki was merely whining.

God, he sounded so differently, and it was so erotic and sexy. And it certainly didn’t help when he scooched even closer, his throbbing cock rubbing up against your own was almost enough for you.

“K-Katsuki-san, ahn don’t… do that…”, you helplessly moaned and buried your face in the nook of his neck, making him just chuckle.

“I don’t know what you- fuck-! even.. mea- NGH!”, clawing at your shoulder, he deliberately started moving his hips a little. Thrusting his throbbing dick against your own, smearing precum around while you kept fucking him with your fingers.

“K-Katsuki-san!”, all you could do was moan out his name, being the sensitive virgin you were, this was almost too much for you.

His nails were clawing at your shoulder while his hips were moving erratically, making it harder for you to thrust against his sweet spot, but Katsuki didn’t care. He was consumed by the pleasure as he rubbed his cock against yours.

“Oh- fuck- GOD- I’m.. ah clos- Katsu…san….”, you could barely choke out, being interrupted by your gasps and moans, but that certainly didn’t stop your lover from moving even more vigorously. Though reaching down was the straw that broke the camel’s back as feeling his hand engulfing your cocks and stroking them was the last touch you needed before cumming all over him and yourself.

With your free hand you clawed at his back as you moaned into the crook of his neck. Your erotic noises sending multiple chills down Bakugou’s spine as he held onto you as tightly as you held on to him; letting your hips ride out that orgasm.

When you finally raised your head, you were still gasping and your [eye.color] eyes still gleaming with lust (though also a little bit of embarrassment that you orgasmed so soon and couldn’t hold back). Bakugou, however, simply leaned in for another few kisses that you certainly appreciated.

“Mmm- sorry… Katsuki-san…”

“Oh shut up.”, he chuckled in between little gasps.

With cum dripping from his hand he then reached back to the night stand to grab the box of tissues, cleaning his hand as well as your own that you had pulled back from his ass. All while smirking a little since you looked so dazed from that orgasm and what had just happened.

Before he could say anything though, you had already wrapped your arms around him tightly, pressing his naked, warm body against your own. Bakugou’s own arms sneaking around your torso as well after he had thrown the tissue in the trash. For a few seconds, it was rather quiet, just the beating of your hearts audible, until you finally dropped the bomb.

“I love you, Katsuki-san.”, you whispered into the nook of his neck.

For a few moments he was just flabbergasted. While his mouth needed a few moments to speak his feelings out loud, his heart was already beating 10 miles per hour. It had been so long since someone had whispered those words to him. Someone who wasn’t just a big fan of him screaming whenever he was outside as a pro-hero, or his family. No… that was certainly a different love.

Leaning back a bit, he ‘forced’ you to look at him, even though he fully understood how embarrassed you were and also how on edge that he was just silent. Bakugou could almost see all the thoughts rushing through your pretty little head, but with just his rare, little smile, you were put at ease.

“I love you, too.”

And before you could react, he had already cupped your face and pulled you in for a kiss. A kiss that made your heart thump so much you thought you might die. You had never felt that happy before. Graduating from U.A.? Amazing accomplishment. Meeting Katsuki and being able to date him? A dream come true, indeed. But hearing your lover say those three words back to you for the first time was just… indescribable happiness rushing through your veins.

With a little bit of force, Bakugou managed to push you back onto the bed, both of you giggling while kissing. He was happy. You were happy. If time could just stop now.

But, it didn’t. Time went on and thus, you whispered in between kisses, “Just… give me 10 minutes… ‘nd I’m…. ready…mmkay?”

Breaking away fully, he leaned on his elbow as he looked at you, his ruby eyes gleaming with lust and a smirk on his lips.

“10 minutes, huh? You really are young.”

“Oh shut up.”, you giggled yourself, when just a second later realization sank in.

“No, wait! I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry!”, your cheeks were basically on fire. Being so rude to someone older was just… you had never done that.

Bakugou on the other hand though just stared at you for a few seconds, before leaning in once more for a kiss, surprising you. However, easing into the kiss quite quickly, your eyes fluttered open again when he sat back up a little. Just far away enough for just the tip of your noses to touch anymore.

“Don’t apologize… Fuck honorifics, okay? Fuck speaking keigo, just… talk to me normally.”

“A-are you sure, Katsuki-san? I mean… our age gap…….”, you gulped at the end, feeling uneasy.

“So? Zero fucks given. I hate honorifics. If you use keigo with me I feel so old…” he avoided eye contact for a moment, before looking back and tilting his head lightly.

“I just want to feel like your boyfriend, not your fucking boss or something…”

“Katsuki-sa- nh- I’ll try! I promise. It’s just really hard to let go, but… I… I want to call you nicknames, too!”, now you had to turn your head away because you were too embarrassed, “B-but maybe that’s a little inappropriate…”

“No…”, a small smile flitted across his lips, “I’d like that.”

And those simple words made your heart skip a beat.

Leaning in the last few inches, Bakugou kissed you on the mouth once more; the tip of his tongue gracing along your bottom lip until you opened them, allowing him inside. A sloppy, intimate kiss igniting again as he slightly changed positions so he was on top of you like before.

Feeling more confident though, you let your hands travel down his spine to his ass. Grabbing the firm skin and spreading his cheeks, you earned his little moan that made your heart jump in excitement. However, it only took a second before you also softly groaned into his mouth when he started grinding again.

With that, even though you had just orgasmed, it was certainly easy to rile you up again. Having the man of your dreams basically humping you was very effective indeed. And Bakugou seemed to notice how easily agitated you were, the smirk on his lips when he broke away was very prominent.

“Should I take it as a compliment that you’re already hard as a rock after just 5 minutes?”, Katsuki teased you, before lowering his head to pepper kisses onto your neck.

You just whimpered a little “Katsuki…” in embarrassment, only to thrust your hips against his as well. Taking him a little off-guard, his surprised grunt made you also grin a little.

“I-It’s not my fault… it’s just you… you’re so… incredible. I… I can’t help it…”, you had a hard time talking properly as Katsuki wasn’t stopping his movements, both of you desperately grinding against each other.

“Haha, I like that.”, Bakugou chuckled, his deep voice sending a chill down his spine.

Though, in the end, he decided to stop (hearing your little whine when he did that was very cute) and sit back up. Both of your cocks back to leaking and throbbing and this time, he stood up fully. Your glazed eyes following him when he walked over to the drawer from before to grab a condom, before bouncing back on top of you.

“You ready?”, he just whispered with that grin on his lips again that made your loins hurt with how erotic he was.

So all you could do was nod very enthusiastically that made Bakugou laugh a little.

With that, you watched attentively once more as he opened the condom; however a blissful hiss escaped your throat when he wrapped his hand around your dick to give it a few strokes. Hence why your head fell back into the pillow for a moment as you had to concentrate really hard to control yourself and not embarrass yourself by cumming again so soon. (Which was very hard because being a virgin and having this sexy man touch you was very effective in making you lose control very fast)

“[Your.name]…”, Katsuki had your full attention once more when he whispered your name like that, though when you looked up… Your cock visibly bounced in his hand as he was hovering right above it with his ass.

“Oh God…”, you grabbed his thighs as your breath hitched in your throat, watching as he lowered himself on top of you.

Clenching your teeth, the feeling of Bakugou’s ass spreading and engulfing your cockhead was almost too much. But it only intensified when his moaning self pushed down even further.

“K-Katsuki!”, was the only thing you could whimper as his hot, sticky insides swallowed more and more of your throbbing cock, almost pushing you over the edge with how tight he was.

Bakugou was just trying to control his moans as it had been so long since he last felt such a nice, thick dick inside his ass. His body trembled due to the full feeling as well as his insides fluttered excitingly; the urge to move overwhelming him.

Without really thinking about how close you possibly were, Katsuki started swaying his hips. First only lightly, but it only took a few moments before he started properly riding you. The moans that left your lips only spurring him on, especially when you locked eyes with him. Just the way you were melting and clawing at his thigh, while looking at him so intensely, it made Bakugou burn up even more.

“Ahnh. God- Katsuk- ah you’re so… amazing- I can’t-“, you chocked out in between heavy gasps and moans.

Katsuki really couldn’t comprehend how cute and innocent you were, being so completely mind-blown by him riding you hard. It made gross little butterflies fly uncontrollably inside his tummy – how he missed that feeling. As someone who never had a casual hook-up, finally being able to have sex again with someone he trusted and loved felt indescribable.

When he deliberately started tightening around you, the whiny moan that escaped your throat sent a chill up his spine.

“I’m gonna- if you… do that… agai-“, you so desperately choked out, being completely overwhelmed. And your boyfriend just chuckled and continued to tease you. Fuck. You had never felt so good. Your dick was throbbing and so rock-hard, you were barely able to hold yourself back from cumming again – and that in the first few minutes of Bakugou doing his magic.

Leaning down, Katsuki pressed his palms into the pillow beside your head while he pressed his lips on yours. Igniting a sloppy kiss, you both couldn’t control your lustful moans and grunts. Bakugou just knew what he was doing, how he had to angle himself so your cock penetrated his prostate and made him see little stars.

You were close. So unbeliavabel close. It was almost painful how hard you were and how much you needed the release. Thus, without thinking much about anything anymore (as he had officially blown your mind today and you weren’t able to think straight anymore) you just reached down to his own bouncing cock; wrapping your fingers around it, the throaty moan that left his lips only riling you up more. It also made you more confident in your action, thus you proceeded to also pump his cock while he was moving so passionately.

Spurred on by your own actions, Katsuki only teased you more. His insides fluttering around you and tightening, just to listen to your desperate moans. Feeling your nails drag across his back as he pushed you over the edge with his skillful moves. Your moans deep and so erotic that it made Bakugou shiver, though nothing compared to your spasming, trembling body underneath him.

You were both gasping for air and sweating. Though before you could even remotely start to calm down, Katsuki had already started swaying his hips lightly, making you jerk and moan in surprise.

“K-Katsuki-“, you choked out his name, [eye.color] eyes wide open.

But the way he looked at you, glistening lips slightly opened, his ruby eyes barely closed and drops of sweat running down his temple – so sexy.

“Just a little… Think you can… handle it?”, he crookedly grinned.

All you could do was nod and pull him down.

Lips colliding and tongues entwining, he openly moaned into your mouth when you started thrusting your hips. Using the last bit of your hard cock before going limp to make him get off while also stroking his dick.

Even though the friction was so overwhelming and your cock was so overstimulated by that point it almost made you lose your mind, you didn’t want to stop. And Bakugou didn’t want to either. His hips relentlessly grinding, your cock shoved in balls-deep and your hand stroking him was almost pushing him over the edge.

The good thing was, Katsuki was already so sensitive and riled up because it had been so long since he last had sex. He couldn’t even think about his own insecurities, like being too old or knowing you could see his wrinkles and scarred skin from work as a pro-hero; you made him feel safe and loved. Yet, Bakugou was so turned on. Even if you had been clumsy or shy, he was dripping precum all over the place. He was so wet. And the feeling of his ass being stuffed was just so nice.

“NGH- [Your.name]-!”, breaking the sloppy kisses, he threw his head to the side, gasping heavily.

You seriously couldn’t stop staring at him. Especially when it all broke down and he started moaning so lewdly. His cock started twitching in your hand before he came all over your hand and belly. His body was trembling, thighs shaking and you could watch and stroke him through the orgasm, earning his whiny groans.

After a few moments, Bakugou opened his ruby eyes once more, before leaning in and pecking your lips, whispering a soft, “I love you.” Which made your heart jump and your lips curve into a big smile as you smooched him over and over again, mumbling an “I love you, too.” back.

As you were laying there for a few minutes, you just shared little kisses, as if both of your lips weren’t already swollen and red from all the kissing prior, but you just couldn’t stop. He was so cute and sexy. Just- how was he seriously your boyfriend?

Though in the end, Katsuki did sit back up again.

“Shall we go clean this off, huh?”, he… almost bashfully, smirked and nodded to your hand. Hence you just chuckled and agreed.

And so, rather quickly, Bakugou got off of you, disposed of the condom and in the end, you rushed into the bathroom for a quick wash; nothing too long, really, because both of you wanted to get back into bed fairly swiftly again. Hence, it only took a few minutes before you and your boyfriend were in the sheets once more, cuddling this time.

“So… how did you feel…?”, you asked after a few moments. Rather quietly though and carefully, not knowing how to really initiate the conversation about ‘giving feedback’.

“It felt fucking nice.”, then he cuddled closer and turned your head towards him so you had to look at him, “You did good for your first time.”

Of course he had to tease you about it.

“Katsuki!”, you playfully kicked him.

“I mean it… I… want to make you feel good. Is there something you want me to do next time?”

When Bakugou realized you were so serious about it, he couldn’t help but smile a little.

“I mean it, too, ya know? I felt very good. And I, too, only want you to feel good when we do it. So we can both feel the fucking best!”, Bakugou then grinned, which thankfully made you giggle as well when you leaned in for another swift smooch.

“Also… don’t think about it too much, okay? This was your first time. You only get to be the best when you practice a lot.”, smirking seductively, he slipped his leg between your own and scooched as closely as he could against your body, “And I promise you I have never skipped practice once in my life. So I hope you’re fucking prepared for what’s to come.”

As you had to search for your heart that had dropped far beyond your stomach due to Katsuki’s advances, you could just gulp and nod. However, you also didn’t shy away anymore when you grab onto him as well. Which pleasantly surprised Bakugou, hence leaning in the last few inches for a smooch.

“Thank you…”, was the last thing you thought you would hear him mumble all of a sudden.

Bakugou realized your slightly confused look on your face, thus clarifying.

“Four years ago, my ex broke me so much I thought he had made me unable to like, let alone love anyone ever again.”

“Oh… I’m sorry about that, Katsuki.”, you whispered empathetically and your hand reaching out to softly caress his back. Which instantly made him smile a little, even though those were such painful memories.

“You know. I was done. I didn’t care about having a relationship anymore and so also basically giving up sex completely since I don’t wanna just randomly fuck with anyone. All the paparazzi just waiting for this moment? And the fear of meeting random strangers who then potentially blackmail me, it was just all too fucking risky. So four years ago it all just… broke apart. Everything. He betrayed me and hurt me so much.”

Katsuki then, however, sat back up a little so he could look at you, propping himself up on his elbow.

“So.. what I just want to say is. Thank you. For making me feel something again and… I ain’t used to this cheesy shit, but… For making me fall in love again. If you would have not been so persistent, I would have been still hurting and hating everyone and everything and just be a miserable ass, ya know?”, he said at last with a small smile on his lips as he reached for your hand to lace your fingers together.

“I am glad.”, smilling brightly, you leaned in for a kiss until you pushed him back into the pillow, making him chuckle.

After bottling up everything for the past weeks, he was relieved you both finally took the next step in your relationship. And hopefully, from now on, everything was going uphill. Though, to be honest, with him and you finally having started with having sex and generally experimenting sexually, Bakugou couldn’t wait for the next few weeks.

Because if he had learned anything in the past 15 years of dating, it was that, when you start to have sex, you will do it anywhere and anytime, all the time  – and he was ready, oh so ready for that stage of your relationship. Plus, judging by how you were already slightly grinding against him again, you probably were as excited as him for what’s to come.  

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

⇻ salem.talks: I tried really hard to have this ready for my birthday yesterday but this is one beast of a fucking second part I just couldn’t finish it in time. so… here is a treat for you and myself

[spinster-sisters]

Hii heres a thought or request whichever you prefer:

Ateez reaction to their s/o teasing them for an entire day but as soon as teezers get the chance to entertain them, the s/o suddenly is like "horny?dk her idk what you are talking about"

Hongjoong:

He will simply not allow it. We’ve seen based on his interactions with the other members that he get riled up over some pretty basic teasing. And he gives me very strong “come over here and finish what you started” vibes. But like, respectfully. Like if it’s not a bit and your genuinely not feeling the vibe any more a hand job would more than suffice to satisfy him. But if your just joking around he’s not waist anytime pulling you into his room in the least subtle way imaginable. Expect high energy from him after he’s been waiting all day and would have about -6 patience left.

Seonghwa:

He’s just kinda like “if you say so,” and saunters away and your just like “no wait it was a joke-“ Seonghwa is a very physical affectionate guy so I feel like the kind of teasing he responds the best to is always light brushing touches to strategic areas. But Seonghwa won’t chase you, after all that teasing instead he just sits and waits. If you are really not feeling it, then fine, but if this was just the next step in teasing him then he’s gonna make you come to him. And let’s say it was just another attempt to tease him that greatly backfired, he will definitely enjoy you padding over to him with your tail between your legs going “actually-“ he would make it very sensual and gives all those same grazing touches you planted on him earlier.

Yunho:

He enjoys a healthily amount of teasing regardless so it probably took him several moments to realize you were actually trying to work him up. He gets a little giddy once he realizes and is very excited to jump you the second you get home, but when you go “nvm” he just sort of goes 😃😃. Like he was supper hype and has absolutely no where to put his energy. He just goes “ok” and probably goes to the gym or some shit to work though his energy. Healthy normal response. But let’s say you change your mind when he comes back all sweaty absolutely no one would blame you. Shower sex???? I think yes.

Yeosang:

Yeosang is much harder to tease than he others just because he is so level headed. So like congrats for successfully peaking his interest but he is the one that I genuinely don’t think he would care if you back tracked. It’s not that he didn’t want to fuck cuz he definitely did, but he’s like “we’re still dating it’s not like another opportunity will never present itself.” So he doesn’t beat himself up about it. So if it is was a joke you really gotta spell it out for him and he’s just like “but I already put my pajamas on.”

San:

Is another one who got way to excited way to quickly except when your like “lol nvm” he gets kinda upset. He gets kinda prissy and pouty. Which is annoying but he will live. But let’s say it was a joke, that would be the fastest way to get him give you hell in a good way. He fully bounces back and throws all that teasing right back in your face and San is nothing if not dedicated I’m talking overstimulation I’m talking dirty talking (degradation if your into that) the works. He can play that game.

Mingi:

He’s another one who enjoys teasing. He just likes the reminders throughout the day that he’s a catch. I’ve always pictured him as a romantic so while he was getting geared up for a steamy~ night he is just fine with switching gears into a more cuddly lovey mood though he might be a little pouty. But since he is now in a more romantic mood if you were to change your mind about getting frisky it’s probably going to be much more sensual by candle light than hot and steamy.

Wooyoung:

He’s not used to getting teased, he’s usually the one doing it. So quite honestly he was teetering my between being excited and annoyed the whole time, so if you back out he’s probably going to be unapologetically upset. He’s like “why put me through all that then.” But he’s not crazy or anything, he’s not taking it to heart, just definitely peeved. So if it was just another ploy to tease him he’s gonna give it back to you like San except meaner. And by that I mean he’s gonna do the same thing you did, teasing you for hours but never actually doing anything. Hell, he could go for a couple of days like this. Basically you can’t out do the doer.

Jongho:

He’s is another level headed one but it’s more of a front. He’s acting all cool calm and collected but I’m the inside he is rearing and ready to go. When you hit him with the “not tonight” he tries his best to put up the mature unbothered front but in reality he is very bothered. He sneaks away to go take care of said problem himself but you catch one because who the hell hides in the bathroom that long without taking a shower. If it really is a not tonight kinda evening then all is well but if it was more of a joke then the bathroom door is unlocked go forth and conquer.

-

Absolutely 0 prof reading btw but nothing new there.

[muffindaddystyles]

Summary: Y/N's feeling icky about her body, but Harry loves her to bits and pieces, through thick and thin, in health and sick — and he always waits for her to come back to him.

TW: Body dysmorphia.

Y/N's healthy.

All she sucks in is having a sane sleeping schedule due to her UNI otherwise she eats natural goodies, cook and bake home because it comforts her more that way and she works out every evening to stay fit.

Sometimes though, she’s lazy and lacks behind which’s proper humane but deep down it effects her and her mental health more than she admits and she isn’t able to start over again – it mostly happens after her periods.

Harry loves her the way she’s.

Even if she’s clumsy, bumbling, procrastinating, overly enthusiastic to mend her life at 3 am, snotty and sloth-y in her periods, confident and positive around people, kind and loving whenever she comes to meet him, whiny and cuddly when she’s sick, jealous and grumpy with his attention not on her —- he loves her in every way possible, to rivers and to sea his love could never stutter for her ever.

He loves how she’s not overly toned, having soft squishy spots which Harry undeniably wants to admire and kiss shamelessly amount of times -- like -- her plummy pretty thighs that Harry likes to nestle his head in-between making her wriggle and squirm under his grasp, her overly cute tummy that Harry dies to pepper sweet adoring kisses and petal his lips round her belly button, everytime they’re cuddled up his bicep’s always looped her around her tummy to feel it rising up and down in calm rhythm, and oh! her tender titties, they’re actually his favourite babies and he loves to fondle them in his big calloused palms brushing his thumb over the sensitive perky nub and basks in the glittery whimpery mewls of hers.

He loves that she’s curvy and gives zero fucks if she’s skinny or not.

He thinks his baby’s perfect.

So perfect he actually feels the bubbling of devotion and affection filling to the brim of his heart’s chambers and leaking out and upon his ribs tickling him.

Y/N's his person and he worships her with his whole heart.

From some days though, she’s feeling devastatingly insecure about all her things Harry’s in love with and she has no-control over it how much she tries.

Harry’s observing that all with optimism (one of his great quality's that like a lion sly about his prey, he keeps an eye on everything but pretends otherwise). He has his intense gaze fixed on her when she’s taking a look of herself in the mirror for rather too long, running her hands down her body and practically shuddering.

He glances from over his laptop and drops everything he's doing watching her go monkies, sweating buckets and over exercising than her usual time.

He brings her closer and infront of him, pressing her to his chest and coiling his forearm around her shoulders whining a, “Baby..!” when they were brushing their teeth and despite of standing beside him and teasing him occasionally like she usually does she stuffs her face into the crest of his back and hides herself there to have minimal contact with her reflection in the mirror.

Her body dysmorphia spiking dangerously high.

“Deprived me of your cuddles. woke me up so early, granny.” She huffs lying through her teeth and how much his embrace was strong enough to keep her in place she still managed to wiggle out taking her previous cosy position, but he could feel her muscles tensing and an awkward silence falling over them.

He didn’t pry much. He wants to give her as much space as she requires to come back to him hale and hearty, as she always does and whatever happens he never forgets to remind her how much he loves her every night.

..

They were watching rom-coms on Netflix back to back with her curled up into his side with a spongy white wool knitted blanket thrown over them and his cheek was smashed atop her head popping in peanuts every now and then when out of certain she spoke pointing at the actress, “You know she got her ribs removed to get that shrinky waist.” Harry frowned at that. His face itching into disbelief and concern under the bouncing glow of telly.

He affixes his gaze down at her trying to read what’s cooking up in that genius brain of her's which isn’t being very rational and genius right now, they immediately turns soft and caring when she blinks up at him purely.

She squeaks, nose crashing against his collarbones when he scooches her up in his lap grabbing onto her knees to make her straddle his torso and he grumbles cutely when she tries not put all of her weight on him and doesn’t melts into him as his sweet lovie would used to do receiving a smack on her bum on his end.

He’s afraid that an evil version of her chomped onto his dear baby alive.

“Nothing else matters if all ye’ organs are packed safely and healthily inside you,” He tells her brushing loose frays of her hair behind her earlobe and rubs his thumb in gentle strokes over her treacly pulsing point, “Was just telling you ...” She mumbles, dotting touches on his knuckles and playing with his bare cold fingers.

It’s true, she was rambling out facts about the movie and cast out of habit because no-way she’d ever go through any surgeries to change herself to become someone she isn’t.

“Swear!” She yawps out in convincing high pitch when Harry squints down at her with his lips scrunched, one eye twitching in doing so.

“Alrighty. I believe you.” He cradles her cheeks in his palms and brings her mighty close to him to peck her cupid bow, then her bottom lip and the corners of her smiling mouth to suckle generous amount of whines from her and then kisses her lovingly – hands streaming down her spine and then resting atop her dip.

He thought she was ready to come back to him, to share her problem with him and Harry really wanted to bug in, to not let her fight her battle alone and take half of her hardships from her fretting self but guess not.

They were about to have sex when panic seeped in Y/N's eyes and her cheeks blazed up in that of embarrassment as she rushed to switch off the lamps that were the only source of light in their room.

“Moppet.” Harry sighed, knowing exactly what’s happening and she isn’t as foxy in covering it up as she’s thinking herself to be.

“Why wouldn’t y'want me t'see gorgeous self of yours?” His tone punctured and hurt, feeling useless for not knowing how to cheer her up and break her worries down. He smoothens his hands behind her to lock his arm around her waist, fingertips making grape sized indents into the flesh of her hip-bone as she streaks the tip of her nose up and down the crook of his neck, murmuring meekly against his salty skin while he hugs her warmly.

“’M just feelin’ shy.” He giggles at her response puckering his lips against her hairline to pet tiny, tiny kisses there as she fists her hands against his taught chest.

“Not somethin’ I haven’t seen before, love bug.” He blows raspberries against the underside of her jaw and their mouths meet into a messy, giggling, teeth clanking kiss when she sinks into pillows allowing him to cocoon her in his heat.

“I love you, Y/N. No matter what.”

.

The last dam breaker for them was this little get together at Sarah and Mitch's baby shower.

She matched her outfit with Harry. Cute lavender coloured little sweater blouse that was familiar to the baggy baby yarn cardigan Harry was wearing, it accentuated her curves and her bosom so prettily -- her midriff peeking from where the buttons weren’t closed and their jeans were painted (they did it themselves one Sunday when it was extra boring and inactive).

Y/N felt uncomfortable in her own clothes. A bitterness spreading inside her for herself and all she wanted was to escape away from her own skin.

She knows she’s loved and welcomed and cherished by her friends and family and the love of her life, most importantly. Then why was she feeling so icky about herself? Why everything's draining her and exhausting her?

Harry obviously could see through the gloomy tenebrous energy overshadowing her as he stood in the corner of the room grabbing the sorbet he poured in two glasses for them.

A sour guzzle of tears choking his throat and his limbs weakening letting the painful heartbreak seep into him when he watches her being fidgety and fiddling with the loops of her jeans, tugging her blouse every passing second and he’s sniffling a hiccup deep in his lungs when she shrinks into herself in dejection staring out of the window without any purpose.

Harry feels awful to startle her when he plops down beside her, coodling her closer to himself and tucks her head beneath his chin subtly and cups his palm under her jaw to make her look in eyes his eyes.

“Hi beautiful,” His tone had a saddening waver in it and his irises mossed bleak when Y/N remains unresponsive, zoning in and out of her own head feeling herself prisoned into her own invasive thoughts.

“You w'na go home darling?” He gives her a wet smile clearing his throat and blinking the stubborn moisture in his eyes away when Y/N nodded without any vivid expression.

All the way back home he denounced himself of not making her feel loved enough, to not to pest her soon about what she’s feeling and letting her slide deeper into the dark hole.

He thinks he’s a piece of shit.

.

Y/N wanted to dig the earth with her own nails and hide into it and never show her face again, she was overly ashamed of herself.

His hand was holding onto hers tightly, never letting it go as he led them through the hallway and his head perked up in confusion when she stopped them abruptly and lunged to wrap herself around him like he’s the last silver of her hope and the reason to live.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry.” There comes the first sob after ages of suffering and bottling it all in, not shocked at all he was expecting it to happen. Gently he picks her up and wraps her legs around him, keeping his support firm under her bum as she cried into his soft white t-shirt.

Carefully he sits them on the edge of the bed and tries to pry her soaky flushed face in his cradle but she refuses to show him, clutching onto his cardigan and whimpering brokenly.

“I just feel so disgusting,” Her sob scratches out of her throat and for a second he thought he heard her wrong, that her feeble crying’s playing some kind of a sick game with his heart.

“Harry do something I don’t want to feel disgusting.” But, when she pleaded helplessly a cold shiver settled in his bone marrow spreading an agonising burn in his stomach.

Gently he stirs her away from his chest to look at her, meeting their foreheads together while his thumb wiped her tears away and smoothed over her wabbly lips in profound tenderness.

“My beloved,” He whispers fondling his nose against hers and her eyes flutters into realm of calms, shaky breath falling over his lips as he brings her trembling fingertips towards them and pecks them feverishly.

“The love of me life, me heart.” He continues, “Shhh. Shh baby ‘s okay to cry but don’t tire y'self.” He hushes her when she whimpers loudly at his coy affirmation.

“I’m here with you, waiting f'you, watching y’goin’ through a stony path so I could be there to hold you whenever you trip –-,” He pets her hair, cupping the back of her neck to plant his lips bitten red from worry to her puffy damp eyelids and Y/N becomes a gooey lax of candle that’s been burning for tiring amount and finally her lover came to blew the agonising flame away putting her to peace as he coos snuggling her in his cordial embrace, “You’ve been so strong to yourself and ‘m so proud of me baby.”

“I’m always here. Never away from you, always right by y'side.” His palms bending around her ribs to smush her as intimately close as possible.

“How d'ya want your huggies babylove?” He simpers down at her darlingly, huffing out in relief seeing her relaxing -- her shoulders sinking from him massaging the knots in them.

“Tight.” She mumbles timidly. The gleam in her glossy eyes returning when Harry hugs her as she wished, squishing her in right places and not suffocating her at all – their breaths in sync chests flushed against eachother.

“I love you cuddly, and care f’you.” He kisses her on lips then goes to hug her right back.

“I love you too, Har. Thank you.” She sniffs in his woodsy scent grazing her touch up and down his back, smooching a soft kiss at his cheek.

[llamagoddessofficial]

Thank you so much to @dandycandylion for commissioning me! And thank you so much for being patient ;;w;; I know this took a while, I’m sorry for all the delays. I hope you enjoy it.

Ht!Sans/Reader. tw; blood

... Your first thought was ‘I really hope that’s not blood’. Which is never a good start. 

Your hand was still on the doorknob, trained to answer knocks at this time of night with a healthy amount of caution and/or slam it shut again should the situation call for it. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust- they’d become accustomed to the comforting glow of your bedroom over the past few hours, and the way the harsh porch light blared out into the dark was taking a little getting used to. 

...

And... it didn’t help that when you saw Sans, red smeared on his skull and hands and engorged single iris staring down at you, your mind immediately started doing backflips to try and explain what you were seeing in a way that stopped you from having to come to a terrifying conclusion.

... You were already afraid. You didn’t want to admit it, but you absolutely were- standing there in the doorway in your pyjamas with wide eyes and a glued-shut mouth. Sans was a frightening enough figure already; almost twice your size, crooked blade teeth, a gaping hole in his skull and a swollen crimson eye that had a penchant for staying fixed on you for what felt like hours. But before now, that fear had been manageable; something you could look at and say fuck you, I’m going to get to know this guy anyway, because he might be nice.

...

It was hard to think that now. 

...

“S... Sans?” You said, when he didn’t move an inch, holding onto your own arms. He was being even more silent than usual. “Is... is that...?”

... Sans being silent was hardly abnormal. Nor was him staying in one place, staring, just a few centimetres closer than was comfortable. It was the look on his face that made you nervous- or rather, lack thereof... that, and the stains.

...

His eye glanced up to the light and warmth of your apartment behind you, and then back down to you again.

...

“O-oh.” You blinked. “You... want to come in?”

... A fraction of a nod. He seemed... agitated.

...

He’s shaking?

You hadn’t noticed at first, gaze only drawn to the bloodstains, and the unpleasant look on his face. But now your eyes had finished adjusting to the outdoor lighting you could see that his hands were quivering gently. His shoulders, too; bouncing up and down...

...

“... Yeah. Come in.” You said, softly, stepping aside.

He didn’t pause for even a moment- he shuffled in as soon as he registered that you’d agreed, turning sideways so his huge frame could move past you. You closed the door, gently... for some reason you felt like it was a bad idea to make loud noises right now.

... I hope I didn’t just make a huge mistake.

“... Do you wanna... wash your hands?” You murmured. 

He let out a little affirmative sound, eyelight searching the floor for a moment before he ducked into the bathroom, out of view.

...

Running water. You just... moved over to the couch, sitting down, fiddling with the edges of your shirt. Should you... should you ask where the blood was from? Should you say ‘where is it from’ or ‘whose is it’ first? Was that even the right thing to bring up? Maybe asking would make him upset... 

...

He re-emerged. Clean hands, he’d dried them too.

“O-oh.” You pointed to your own face. “You’ve still got...”

... He mirrored your movement, touching his jaw, but he just blindly smeared the blood he’d missed on his face.

“... You know what, just sit down. I’ll get it.”

... You retrieved a wet cloth you weren’t overly attached to, and returned to him sitting on the couch... he was totally dwarfing everything in your home. He’d never been inside your house before- honestly, from the way he acted around you, seemingly unable to get a single sentence out or do anything but stare creepily, you thought he disliked you. 

His hands were clenched in his lap, tight stressed eyelight tracking you across the room as you approached. When you saw him stood outside you’d wrongly labelled him as unreadable; slowly, as you looked at him more, you started to pick up on little signs. He seemed to be... bowed. Shoulders hunched, still slightly shaking, head low and hands balled into fists so his claws weren’t visible, bouncing his leg...

... Is he... trying to make himself smaller?

...

“... Here.” You said, taking a seat beside him. He was so huge and heavy that the furniture was bending under him- you were sat at an angle, trying not to roll into his now-stopped leg, and reached up with the cloth. You realised that you’d never actually touched Sans before, nor he you... and he was watching like you were approaching with a knife. 

.. He didn’t move, head fixed in place, statue-like... but he didn’t protest. So you took that as an okay, gently pressing the cloth against his cheekbone and wiping slowly at the offending stains.

...

His eyelight widened at the contact, a little, almost imperceptibly. At the same time his socket relaxed at the edge... why did it remind you of a cat being pet for the first time?

... And... he nodded his head down even further, the smallest of sighs escaping his ribcage.

... Well. You thought. That wasn’t a ‘get your hands off me before i bite them you stupid fucking human’. So I’m probably okay.

The blood came off pretty easily. Solid bones didn’t seem that conducive to liquid, so to speak, which meant gently rubbing back and forth was enough to quickly remove even the flaking dried stuff. Careful strokes, occasionally folding the cloth over to get a clean edge, running it over the defined curves of his skull... easy, and rather calming, despite all the questions that were racing through your mind.

...

It was very, very quiet. Comfortingly so. His breathing was so slow inside his giant chest that you couldn’t hear a thing; you could only feel it gently brushing over your cheeks and neck. He smelled nice, like deep forests... The faint warmth coming from his constantly staring eye became more noticeable as time went on, especially with your hand so close to his face. He was looking at your chest.

...

“... There.” His skull was now bloodless. You’d forgotten to even ask about it. “That looks better.”

Nothing. He hadn’t left his slightly hunched position.

...

“I should go put this in the sink.” You removed your hand, turning to get off the couch...

... But you were stopped by a gentle pressure, that enclosed your palm. 

...

You looked down, at your limb. Sans... had his huge, skeletal mitt closed around your own. It was much warmer than you thought it’d be; smooth ossified matter slightly coarsed with nicks and grooves, the shaking very faint now. Your hand the size of his palm. And before you could fully process what you were looking at, or the sensation of him touching you willingly... he brought your hand up, placing it back on his cheekbone, palm flat against his zygomatic arch.

...

Huh?

His socket lidded- he seemed droopy, exhausted.

“... don’t go.” He mumbled, with that unearthly deep voice of his. He sounded... tired. Softly desperate. Guilty? All in one tiny, close-to-breaking utterance. “please.”

...

He suddenly looked... fragile. Somebody who felt strong wouldn’t react so desperately to a single touch. It was... it was like he was about to fall apart any second... right there in your palm. 

...

“Maybe... you should stay the night.”