#i love my husband but sometimes i wanna square up for him

[starsfic]

Contract Signed

So, I came up with a Beauty and the Beast AU for Spicynoodles but right now, not working on a full fic. I haven't had a lot of time to write because I've been really busy this semester, so I figured I would write the opening as a little warm-up.

Wanna support? Here's my Ko-Fi!

-_-

Once upon a time, there was a wealthy kingdom, ruled by a proud king and queen. The mighty king had surpassed his predecessors and had led the kingdom into a golden age. The beautiful queen had carved her way into society from her status as a banished princess, making sure she and her husband were respected far and wide. They were proud of their accomplishments. Most of all, however, they were proud of their son.

Their son, born on the coldest and longest night of the year, was born with a sharp mind and even sharper tongue. The tutors of the young boy called him a genius and he soon developed a knack for machines. He sometimes missed social cues and sometimes got wrapped up in his own head to the point of being impractical or allowing his temper to get the best of him, but as he grew int a handsome young man, they grew into being charming. It was clear that the prince was the jewel of the kingdom and, on his twentieth birthday, the king and queen threw a massive celebration.

The party was in full swing when a hunched over beggar woman came to one of the royals. Nobody knows what happened next. Some say that the prince, drunk on ego, rudely dismissed the peasant. Some say that the queen, wanting nothing to go wrong for her sweet boy, coldly dismissed the peasant, or the king, wanting nothing to go wrong for his beloved heir, demanded that she leave in a yell that drew everyone’s attention. Whatever happened, whether it was the son or mother or father, the result was the same.

The beggar woman revealed herself to be a powerful enchanter, seeing if the kingdom was worthy of being in an alliance with. However, the rudeness they had been given suggested not.

The prince was cursed to reveal his true hideous nature, becoming a monster. The enchanter ended the insult by explaining that, if someone could truly love the prince as he was, the prince would be cured. 

However, his new monstrous form was a source of fear for the kingdom that once respected its prince. Fearing for his safety if he stayed, the king and queen sent their son to a far-off corner of their kingdom. There, in a beautiful manor, he waited to receive the guests that his parents sent, hoping one day that one of them would be able to break his curse.

However, so far, their hopes were weak…

“I thought the payments would be each week?”

“New orders from the king and queen,” the man in front of him huffed. He had introduced himself as General Ironclad, the head of Princess Iron Fan’s guard and the head general of the Demon Bull army. As Qi Xiaotian watched him fold his arms, he had to admit. He showed his experience in the battlefield. “The last girl ran screaming and refused to be bribed back. So, your family will be paid for each day you’re gone.” The general raised a hand to massage his brow. “We were already dealing with the cut down from payment each month.”

Xiaotian glanced back at the contract. The terms were simple, as the poster explaining this job promised. He needed simple.

Recently, Xiaotian’s family had come into some…issues. He wasn’t sure what exactly had happened, but his father, Zhu Pigsy, had broken his arm and back. (Based on the fact that Pigsy refused to explain, he was pretty sure the accident had been an embarrassing one.) The man ran a small inn that provided three square meals to their guests. Unfortunately, with Pigsy’s inability to pick things up, their service was lower quality. That wasn’t great, especially considering that their rival inn was right across the street.

Xiaotian had tried his best to pick up the slack, but he didn’t really know how to cook noodles. Pigsy had only started training him on how to cook, and all he knew was the one family favorite. He did much better checking people in and delivering food across town. Tang, Pigsy’s husband, was trying to help, but he was lazy and had weak ankles.

Long Xiaojiao, Xiaotian’s best friend and a noblewoman, had tried to offer money to hire more people, but Pigsy had refused. He didn’t trust people with his kitchen. Instead, he reduced prices, which was only a small bucket of relief.

They were running low on funds, and fast.

So, Xiaotian had decided to try and find some other part-time work, which had led him to discover the poster about Prince Red.

It was an infamous story by now. Six years had passed since the curse had been cast. Xiaotian himself had assumed it was just a fairy tale with the current royals’ names attached when the news first broke out. Now, however, all he heard about the prince were the twenty-somethings sent to try and break the prince’s curse and running out whenever he scared them off. 

They weren’t forced, however. Red himself had apparently kicked out the terrified prisoner sent to him and had sent word to his parents to send him volunteers. They did this by paying volunteers huge amounts. At first, it had been for each year the person went. Now, apparently, it was each day.

The amount was huge.

Enough to give Pigsy and Tang a comfortable nest egg, enough to close the inn for a little while while Pigsy recovered. Just for one day. Xiaotian stared at the contract, willing himself to focus.

He just needed to try for a week, according to the rules. Money would be delivered to your family or a person you trusted- he wrote Pigsy’s name. If you got hurt, the royal family would personally cover your medical bills…

“Hurt?”

“The prince always had a fiery temper,” Ironclad huffed. “And now he has control over flames.” He leaned forward, forcing Xiaotian to meet his eyes. “They learned this because a man broke a clock he was working on. He got so mad, he picked up a pillow and set it on fire before throwing it at him. Poor man’s hands were out of commission for weeks.”

Xiaotian blinked. “...why did he break the clock?” He probably should’ve been more terrified by the fact that the prince could set him on fire, but hey. He always noticed the less important details.

“No idea.” Ironclad leaned back. “You can back out now. No shame in that. The guard will take you home.”

Xiaotian glanced back. Said guard, a guy who had introduced himself as Bob, waved. He managed to wave back before glancing back down. It was tempting. He was an artist. Every morning he would poke his head outside and try to draw the sky as it was in that moment. Pigsy had hung his portrait of him, mid chop, up in their personal quarters. The idea of losing his hands, possibly losing his touch while he recovered, was terrifying.

Equally as terrifying was the idea of the inn being boarded up, Pigsy alone in the rain, watching as his life’s work was taken away…

“I’ll do it.” Before he could think about it some more, Xiaotian wrote down his name on the dotted line. The moment his name was down, paired with his trademark monkey face, he shoved it away. Ironclad raised a brow but nodded, reaching over. His movements were smooth as he rolled up the scroll. “When do I go?”

“It depends. Usually, a person needs a day or so to say goodbye-”

“Can we go now?” How was he supposed to admit that he snuck out of his home, leaving behind a note to say goodbye? Xiaotian stood, reaching over and grabbing his bag. He tried to ignore Ironclad’s questioning look at how small it was. “I said goodbye before I left.”

Ironclad pulled his eyes away from the bag to nod. “Fine. We can go now.”

“Thank you,” Xiaotian stood. “I hope I can help the prince.” Probably not, but hey. It wouldn't hurt to try.

Ironclad didn’t say a word.

[cevans-seb]

# stake your claim, now you’re taking it back

Pairing: Ari x Reader

Warning: short | angst | Ari is the worst type of husband | reader needs a hug and a therapist | I wanna make it sadder, so maybe I need the therapist

A/N : This is something I have been teetering with for a while now. I’m calling it rapid fire and till be short drabbles ( around a 1000 words or less) that’ll keep me exercising my writing without burnout. I must admit the frat AU is a lot more than I expected, but I write about it everyday with Andy’s chapter almost being finished.

Word count: 481

Prompt: I stay out late, hoping you’re asleep and I hate that when I come home you’re up waiting for me.

He was late yet again. The cold food rests  on the wooden table, untouched by both you and your husband. You tried calling him but after the fifth time, he seemed to have blocked you because it went straight to voicemail.  You sink deeper on the love seat, stomach growling as your muted tv lightens your darkened room. Reaching over on the nightstand, you pick up your digital clock that flashed at 2:35 am in florescent green lights, but you knew Ari had stayed out longer than that. Sometimes he’ll stroll in the next day, lipstick staining his shirts. You fiddle with your finger and wipe away a stray tear as you scrounge enough energy to put away your food.

You finally hear the door unlock as Ari steps inside, carelessly wielding his helmet. It used to be a tradition you both did with him calling you up after he left work for a joyride on his motorcycle, but there was never a destination in  mind, only two lovers traveling around town. But as work became overwhelming and frequent fights ensued, those dwindled-along with your will to fight for your marriage. Ari notices you and his shoulder slumps.

“shouldn’t you be asleep?” He gruff.

“I wanted to wait up and eat with you.” Your arms tightened around your stomach. “ I still haven’t eaten, actually.”

He blew out a snide chuckle. “ and whose fault is that ? I didn’t tell you to stay up for me. I never want you to stay but you do every fucking time.”

Ari, I want to spend time with you, but it seems like you’re never around anymore. I’ll call you when you’re at lunch and your colleagues would say that you’re in a meeting or you went out with another coworker. That’s fine if it’s only happened a handful of times but you and I both know that we haven’t done anything together for a long time now. So yes, I stayed up past 3 am to eat with you even though I have work in a few hours  because I  miss my husband, and I really want him back.” You sniffle.

Ari squared in his jaw, your heart pounded out of your ear in pure trepidation about what he’s going to do. “ You wanna know why I come home late? I stay out late, hoping that you are asleep. I’ll drive around, get a couple drinks, and some food then head  home.” His haunted eyes bored into yours. “ I do all this to avoid you because I can’t stand the sight of you and every fucking time I walk in this cursed house I beg that you’re asleep somewhere, and I’m disappointed every time, and I hate that when I come home you’re waiting for me. He scowled, bumping into you. You’re frozen in utter disbelief as a single tear rolls down your cheek.

[z-h-i-e]

Weird Questions: 5, 8, 9 & 13

I ended up saving some previous asks, knowing I was going to have an AMA (Ask Me Anything) coming up. And it's an AMA weekend, so now is the time to answer all these questions! (but you can still ask me more, either cheekily anonymous, or bravely under your name). Here's a quartet from a lovely anon! I'm going to answer them in reverse order to keep the answer for the last one under a cut.

What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

Incredibly difficult: Relationships between ex-lovers. I have no exes. I married the first, last, and only person I ever dated/had a relationship with, and we have a great relationship of 26 years. My parents have been together for 47 and married for 45. The only set of grandparents I knew were high school sweethearts who married after my grandfather came back from being a POW in the Korean Conflict. It's really been the relationships prior to that where there's divorces and widows who marry three times and lots of interesting stories that come with the phrase 'it was unheard of at the time' (Great-great-grandma D, I'm looking at you being in your 60s and marrying the 18 year old farm hand as your third husband--good for you, that's a queen move right there). So I have to rely on research and what other people tell me.

Easy: Many other things, because I'm a method writer--it means I do a lot of immersive writing. Example--I started writing some years ago that Finrod knits. When I got to a point where I was writing a lot of things about Finrod, it made me realize -- I should learn how to knit so I don't just half-ass it. I have now made four blankets and many scarves and something square and very rainbow and I don't know quite what I did but I like it. Anyhow, for most things, I go have experiences. I collect realia that fits the themes/scenes. I use ambient noise while writing if I can't get to an actual place to do the writing. I've learned how to kickbox, ballroom dance, bake and decorate fancy desserts, do carpentry, make paper, make ink, make clothing, been around alllll sorts of animals (many of the random encounters with wild animals aren't a thing I can really plan, but I've had more than I can count, and they've all been useful). I have some limits, but they are few (and probably strange, honestly).

Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know.

Yes. I've lived in a house that had two of them, and I had a very specific encounter when I was a teenager. I was working one day at the retail counter and the father of my boss came in. There was an older woman next to him. They were sort of conversing--she was doing most of the talking, he was just making grumbly noises. They never made eye contact. She was wearing all black, including a lace cover over her hair, which is how I even was watching, because her clothing was just unusual for the time period and for an afternoon of coming into a little retail store. He eventually got her back to the door, opened it for her, she left, and he came to fiddle with something behind the counter. When I asked him 'who was that?' he looked a little shocked, but told me it was "Old Lady (name redacted)".

About a week or so later, the store owner and his wife returned from vacation. They asked me how things went in their absence and I filled them in. When the owner said 'I hope my dad didn't bother you too much', I told him no, it was fine, he was just a little grumpy when Old Lady (nr) came in. The owner was like "…are you sure that was what he said? Because Old Lady (nr) has been dead for a while."

Of course, I had to ask his father the next time I saw him. He adamently denied having said anything to me, denied having had a conversation with anyone, denied the whole thing happening. Cameras were already wiped from the week by then, but then again--I don't know if I really wanted to check them. I replay it sometimes, watching them walking around and talking, them not looking at each other, her not picking anything up or touching anything--but she did look at me at one point.

So I did go look her up eventually.

She passed away in 1992 at the age of 88.

This encounter could not have been earlier than 1996, because I started working there in November of 1995.

Found a photo of her recently in a historical archive.

It's her.

Every time I go past, day or night, I glance over. I guess I'm waiting for the day I see her standing in front of the store or something.

What is your darkest fear about writing?

That after I'm gone, it'll all just disappear like it was never there at all. But this isn't just a me thing--it's a 'for everyone' sort of thing. Libraries and archives make concerted efforts to collect physical and other digital copies of literature--fanfiction doesn't get that same attention--but it should. It's a record not of what was profittable, but of what people were passionate about.

Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

Under a cut for mentions of death:

There have been a few times I've written scenes that ended up playing out in real life later on. Usually, these weren't a big deal. But I once wrote a scene (this is all original fiction) about a character being killed, and another character (that was loosely based on myself) having to go to the family of the character who was killed and deliver the news. A very short time later -- somewhere between two weeks and a month -- my uncle died, and I had to go to my parents' house to tell my father his younger brother was dead. It was absolutely one of the worse experiences ever, to have to comfort a parent who is sobbing and just keeps saying 'my baby brother is dead' over and over.

So, you will notice, when I write about death, it's off-screen in almost all cases. And I bring everyone back to Valinor -- Elves and also a lot of Orcs and eventually even Morgoth. Someone is always hurt when someone passes away, and I know that I use Valinor as the ultimate 'fix-it' place.

If anyone wants to pull more questions from the weird writing asks, here's the link to the list: https://www.tumblr.com/z-h-i-e/722293323480596480/i-still-have-two-more-from-the-last-one-to-get?source=share

[ms0milk]

falling asleep with a claustrophobic s/o

| ft. tengen, rengoku, sanemi, and giyuu

a/n: i'm SUPER cleithrophobic (which is like clastrophobia but more a fear of being trapped and unable to get out, rather than being afraid of small spaces in general) and cuddling is really hard for me. sometimes i, me, the author has to indulge in some VERY specific comfort hcs 🙈

tengen

bedtime got you down?

cuddling feel like being buried alive?

well you’re in luck!

b/c your husband is as broad as a california king

‘but i’m big big :(‘ you protest

to which i say

sorry

he’s even bigger

he will always be bigger than you and he will always want your weight sprawled on top of him

tengen thuds onto his back in a sea of satin sheets

“come”

he pats his chest invitingly and peers over his big old bust at you

“ten, i’m not sleeping on top of you.”

he pouts and drums his chest some more

“you don’t love me anymore”

“your boobs are too big!”

pouty lips curling at the corners, he sits up a bit to reach for your hand

you always fight him when you think you’re being a burden

you don’t wanna fall asleep tangled in his arms?

nonissue

he would sleep on hot coals if it made you more comfortable

smile on his face

“you love these double Ds”

“they’ll give me a crick so bad i die”

you’re not fighting him anymore though, as he takes your hand and pulls you forward

“dying in my arms y/n, very romantic”

it only takes one tug to pull you off balance and your head lands squarely above his heart

you can hear it beating clearly here

and if anything, a little too fast

“you got a crush or ‘sum?” you murmur into his collarbone with one defeated, and cozily squished cheek

it’s perfect like this

you wiggle all your limbs and bask in the freedom

he tosses a blanket over your little dogpile

and rests a hand on the back of your head to keep you from slipping

“y/n, a crush?” he grumbles into your hair, “when we first met, i once– from the thought of you alone– without touching myself– achiev–”

“goodnight tengen”

rengoku

kyojuro is ridiculous i swear

who thought ‘yes i’ll simply write the perfect man and then let him be perfect in front of a yearning audience’??

a sweaty heat between you

legs over hips

your waist in his arms

a thumb swiping at your cheekbone rhythmically

it’s too hot

–can’t bend your arms, can’t free your hips, it's too–

“it’s–it’s too much”

you roll a few times out of his arms to the safety of your empty futon beside his

“i’m sorry kyo”

he’s warm and wide and heavy and so fucking cuddly

“my love, are you alright?”

when you peek at him behind you, in his own bedding, his golden eyes look so concerned it kills you

he’s propped himself up on an elbow

ready to jump into action

has he offended you?

are you unwell?

do you need a doctor?

“i’m sorry” you murmur and turn away from him “i’m tired, i don’t want to touch tonight”

“oh love, i’m sorry, i wasn’t trying to–”

“no, no” you roll back over in a hurry to correct him, “i just have to be over here right now”

he doesn’t understand

“are…um, have i, maybe..”

how could you possibly tell the man who hung the stars for you that holding him at night makes it difficult to breathe?

“my chest,” you pull one of his hands out of his blanket and press it against your heart, across the divide of your futons laid side by side, “it feels tight when i’m in closed spaces”

he melts in your touch and lowers himself back into bed to listen

“i don’t...like feeling like i can’t move”

it takes him all of eight seconds to cure your anxiety

“i hold you at night to make you feel safe. It has not been. My darling, what can i do to comfort you?”

i life without this man is no life at all

you fall asleep easily on his outstretched arm that night, his other hand rubbing patterns down your back

“you should always tell me these things y/n, i will help you.”

from then on, on days where his arms are too heavy for you, or his bedding is too hot, kyojuro tucks you in and then falls asleep facing your futon so that the first and last thing he sees everyday is you at peace

sanemi

“what do you mean you don’t want me to hold you? are you fucking defective?”

ah yes

doesn’t he just make your knees weak

“real panty soaker you are nems”

sanemi is behind you and seconds away from reaching an arm across your waist, having finally gathered enough courage to spoon you

this is what people want right?!

to be the little spoon??

he would want that if he were you

you roll away from him two times to make sure you’re facing him and far enough away to see his face clearly

it’s whole fucking ordeal

“i don’t like getting spooned”

“huh?” he grimaces

and makes a dramatic show of stretching his arms out wide in exasperation

“it’s just too restrictive! i don’t like it”

“you don’t seem to care about restriction when i’m fucking folding you in–”

“do not finish that sentence”

“–half!”

first night together going just swimmingly 🤟🏽

sanemi finally has a chance to be gentle with you and you don’t even want it

“how do you normally sleep?” your airy voice snaps him momentarily out of a rage

“however i fucking want”

“then get comfortable”

“what?”

what are you talking about?

“go on then” you repeat, holding back giggles from the other side of the mattress “get comfortable, I have an idea”

he looks to you and then back up at the ceiling and huffs

“c’mon nems jus–”

his arms suddenly shoot straight out next to him and he kicks up his knees under the blanket

⭐️

he’s still staring at the ceiling but now his face is bright red

“o-oh,” you bite back laughter, “is this..is this how you do it normally?”

“shut up”

he’s not embarrassed for long though, as you snake your way beside him

“let me know if you don’t like it”

he’s not sure what he’s expecting– anything? everything?– and he’s really not sure how to breathe when you lay a careful head on his shoulder

you press your chests together and tuck one of your thighs between his legs

adjust your cheek into the hollow of his collarbone

“is this okay sanemi? you lay on your back, i lay on my stomach”

is this okay sanemi

he might love you

“you sleep like a starfish so i’ll just latch on where i can”

“whatever”

he’s thankful you can’t see him fighting to not bury his face in your sweet hair

“oh i get it” your voice and chest rumble with laughter against his body “you just want me to spoon you”

and for the first time all night he’s too distracted to be a bloodthirsty bastard

“you can do that?”

“roll over”

giyuu

three demon hordes, two sleepless nights, and one lost finger

and this is going to be what kills you?

giyuu gulps

you don’t even make a sound

you’re both hovering at the foot of a single futon in the center of the inn room

“i asked for two”

is the only thing he can muster

you shake yourself out of your daze and rest a hand on your sword hilt

“we can do this”

giyuu nods vaguely but doesn’t look at you

you’ve been together for weeks

a hundred years longer than the hashira thought anyone could stand him

but haven’t needed to fall asleep together yet

‘burn that bridge when we cross it,’ you always thought

besides, you and giyuu have never needed a bed

giyuu is the first to lay down after bathing

he stands up politely when you enter the room from your own bath but you can tell he’s exhausted

he’s back down even faster than he stood and visibly fighting the urge to sleep for forty days and nights

you sink to your knees beside the bed

“may i?”

and before you even get the last word out, he’s tossing the blanket back for you

dark eyes

parted lips

hair covering his face in long tumbles

“please”

gods you have such a big crush on this little awkward man

okay

alright

your first full night together might not be so scary after all

he looks like he’ll fall asleep immediately

you might not even have to tell him–

“y/n,” he tugs on you before pulling the blanket up so far it floats down over your heads,

“closer.”

he hates this

he can’t feel your warmth

“tomioka wait– i–”

he moves closer before you can finish your thought

and cups your hands in his

it’s difficult to make out his expression in the dim candlelight filtering through your comforter

but you wish you could have seen exactly how he looked before he brought both of your hands to his lips for a gentle kiss

 in one hand he laces your fingers together and with the other he pulls the bedding back down to a reasonable shoulder-level

“don’t worry y/n, i know you don’t like tight spaces”

you’re laying on your sides facing each other, fingers tangled together

“is it okay if i hold you.. like this?”

you nod, blissfully

sleepily

you really didn’t have to tell him

“i’m sorry about your finger”

…

“what?”

“your finger”

he murmurs into your knuckles still held against his face

eyes closed so gently they flutter

“the one a demon bit off”

right

you exhale softly in laughter, the air blowing over his cheek

“don’t worry, it was my least favorite”

“mine too”

op-

there he is

[thisispaladinbehavior]

come and find me in the valley (down in the deep green, oh hear my call)

WIP snippet of what i'm working on today, inspired by the lovely @gay-jewish-bucky and that fantastic folk song. obsessed with this right now, really wanted to share the intro, click in to read the rest <3 i've never shared snippets before, let me know if that's something you all like to see!

----

The land is theirs on the second of July. A visit to town that morning, a couple signatures on a stack of paper, and it’s theirs.

Home. Or what will be home, in a half year or so. Right now it’s just a meadow sat in the middle of the forest at the end of a dirt road. It’s a half mile from the main road, and even that is just a two-lane that’s never very busy.

Bucky liked that best about this particular plot as they looked over a list they’d made together. Steve didn’t so much mind the plots of land that were in more populated areas, but he gave Bucky final say. He knows what the noise does to Bucky, what the people do, the traffic and the commotion of cities. Bucky loves him for that, one reason in a million.

Steve’s old truck rumbles down their single-track dirt road, kicking up dust in the humid summer heat. The grasses along the road are high and lush, boasting wildflowers and saplings peeking around wide tree trunks decades old. The woods surrounding are dense and a deep green.

That’s what Steve likes best about this plot they’ve picked. All the green. The flowers, the leaves, the meadow. A stream trickles alongside the meadow, crystal clear and just deep enough to hit their knees, and about a mile downstream it gets wide and slow enough to form a pool lined with rocks smoothed by millennia.

It takes a few minutes to get from the main road to the meadow, though they own all the land in between and around. Fifty-seven acres of mostly forest; Bucky has no idea what they’ll do with all of it. The only thing they really want is a cabin.

They’ve planned it to the square foot, a log home in much the style of many of the cabins upstate; they’re low in the mountains, just on the edge of the Adirondacks. A log cabin, they decided. That’ll be just right.

They’ve got the money, somehow. Bucky still can’t wrap his head around how much, with the back pay from their time in the Army, Steve’s pay from his time with SHIELD, everything they’ve gotten since. Royalties. A weird concept. In the end they’re millionaires, a long ways away from their time sharing meager meals in a cold and creaking tenement building.

They’re comfortable, and they’re retired. Bucky feels a weight lifted from his shoulders, and he sees how his Steve smiles so much brighter. The decades bleed away a little more every day, and for the first time in a long time they feel their age, not the old men they’ve been since they came into this century they didn’t really expect to see. They’re only in their mid-thirties. Young, in the grand scheme of things.

Plenty of time to live.

“Contractors will be out tomorrow to get things laid out,” Steve says as they pull up to the meadow. Their meadow. Home. “We’ll get a look at how things’ll lay out. Project manager said we’d discuss the floor plans.”

“Mm,” Bucky hums as he looks around at all the green. Butterflies float over the wildflowers, and birds soar between the trees. It’s quiet; the still is cut only by birdsong and the rumble of Steve’s truck.

He cuts the engine and they both sit in that quiet for a few minutes. Bucky links their fingers together over the console, and he takes it all in. It feels easier to breathe here already.

“Let’s look around,” he says softly, tipping his head against the seat to look over at his husband. “I don’t wanna go to the apartment yet.”

Steve looks at him, all the more beautiful here in their own private sanctuary, and he smiles. “How ‘bout we pitch a tent, spend a few days. You want that?”

It’s still surreal sometimes, how easy Steve knows him. Even after all their time apart, after everything that has changed them as people. Nothing changed this. Nothing could change this, this feeling Bucky swears will just kill him someday.

“I’d like that,” he murmurs, smiling soft and sweet as he gives Steve’s hand a squeeze.

Steve smiles, nose scrunching with his fondness, and he lifts Bucky’s hand to press a kiss to his gleaming metal knuckles, just as easy as if it were flesh and bone. Bucky can’t feel much with that hand, even with the one he was gifted by friends. He knows Steve knows this; it makes the gesture all the sweeter.

“C’mon,” Steve says, still wearing a smile that rivals the sun hanging high in the sky. “Let’s see it.”

It’s hot as soon as they open their doors, so humid Bucky’s skin is sticky the second the air hits him. His hair is up in a loose bun to keep his neck cool, but sweat is beading up already.

He loves it. They both do. They’ve spent long enough in the cold.

The grass and wildflowers brush his legs as he wades into the middle of their meadow, and he tips his face skyward to welcome the sunlight that has his eyelids glowing red. He takes a deep breath, reveling in the smell of summer forest, and he lets it out slow.

“You like it?”

He doesn’t open his eyes, doesn’t move away from how he’s seeking the sun like a flower, but he smiles and reaches out blindly for Steve’s hand. Steve gives it, easy as anything. Their fingers link again, loose, tender, and Bucky feels at peace in a way he doesn’t much anymore.

“I love it,” he says as he finally looks at the man beside him. His breath snags in his throat.

The sun has Steve’s hair glowing like a halo on his head, golden blond, streaked white from how often they’ve been outside this summer. His short beard is lighter, too, boasting flecks of that same gold. The freckles dusting his cheeks have gotten a touch darker, and there’s a pretty flush on his skin from the heat.

But his eyes.

Bucky swears he’s never seen a color like that before. The history books all say Steve’s eyes are blue, but Bucky knows better. Bucky sees them every day. He knows that they’re more green than anything else, light blue just at the outer edge of his irises. Around the ink of his pupils, they’re a pretty green, shining like peridot in the sun. They’re half-closed with how Steve is smiling at Bucky, long lashes casting shadows down his cheeks.

Steve is the most beautiful thing Bucky has ever seen, he will be for the rest of their lives. He always was, well before the serum, well before the way they’ve changed. He’s bigger now, sure, strong and healthy in a way that eases Bucky’s old-habit fear. But his face, the one Bucky has been looking at for a lifetime, is much the same. He’s always been beautiful.

“I love you,” Bucky says, helpless to the way he feels. The words feel brittle, they don’t feel like enough. He thinks maybe if he says them enough Steve might understand a fraction of the depth of them. His love is an ocean little-explored; he finds new things every day that only make it deeper.

“Love you, too, baby,” Steve says gently, so gently. “In six months we’ll be here all the time. Won’t have to go anywhere else if we don’t want to.”

...

[greatbigbellies]

New anonymous commission story! This is another hyperpregnant slice of life piece, about a couple of boys who find out that they can conceive additional babies mid-pregnancy which will grow to catch up to the largest sibling, resulting in rapid growth for one of the husbands! Contains hyperpregnancy, tmpreg, some weight gain and lactation, mild belly worship, and allusions to sex.

Leo sat in the passenger seat of he and Marko’s sedan, his boyfriend behind the wheel. The pair sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. They’d received some… rather shocking news from Leo’s most recent doctors appointment. All three babies were fine, all perfectly healthy... but that was precisely the point, all THREE were healthy. At three months in, Leo was at the tail end of his first trimester, and when he started, there was supposedly only one in his womb. Then a few weeks ago, they were suddenly expecting fraternal twins. Then finally, today, triplets, all inexplicably at the same stage of growth.

“What’s going through you mind, hon?” Marko finally asked, breaking the silence. Leo brushed a few brown, fluffy hairs out of his face with one hand, and held his tummy protectively with the other. “I’m just… I’m floored we’re having three kids! I’m just… confused I guess? Like we were set with one for a while… and then two… and now…” Leo trailed off. Marko squinted in concentration as he thought of how to word his theory. “I… think I know the pattern… I don’t think it’s a matter of the doctors just mysteriously being unable to count…” Leo could tell where this was going. “You mean…” Marko nodded. “Think about it? There was the night we conceived after the party… that’s one. Then there was minigolf night...” Marko began listing off. Leo nodded, “Yeah, Minigolf was fun, we need to do that again sometime,” Leo smiled. Marko raised an eyebrow, “Like… just the minigolf, or what came after too?” 

Leo turned to him and batted his eyelashes, “I dunno, can you get another hole in one?” Marko felt himself start to blush. He was typically the more dominant one, but Leo knew how to push his buttons. “Besides, I wanna test your theory. See if I wake up with four tomorrow,” Marko was now no longer ‘starting to blush’ and was instead outright blushing. “Are you teasing me, or are you serious? Cause our turn to go golfing comes up in two blocks,” Leo put his hand in Marko’s shoulder, leaned over, and said “put another baby in me,”

Marko smiled mischievously, eager to relive their minigolf date. “But! If I win you gotta buy me a sundae. The babies want hot fudge,” Leo teased. Marko’s grin widened. “Nah hon, I’m gonna get a hole in one, beat your ass at minigolf, buy you TWO sundaes, watch you eat them, then we’ll fuck like there ain’t no tomorrow,” he said, wearing his confident smile proudly. Now it was Leo’s turn to blush, turning away and putting his hands over his mouth and cheeks. “Fuck, I hate it when you get all assertive like that,” he said through his hands. Marko laughed. “No you don’t, you little bottom!” Leo erupted in laughter himself, his adorable, irregular laugh like music to Marko’s ears.

“I mean… in fairness, you’re too competitive to lose on purpose, but too much of a gentleman to let a pregnant guy go hungry,” the praise elicited another more subtle blush from Marko, two ran his hand through his short, black undercut. “I mean… you need lots of calcium for the babies. There’s milk in ice cream so, like… it’s good for you right now?” Marko stumbled to his point. Leo chucked and lifted the hem of his beige sweater up to his chest, exposing his tiny first trimester tummy, looking ever so slightly pudgy from being 3 months along. Marko’s blush shifted to a deeper red and he tried to focus on the road, but was a sucker for Leo’s belly. “You’re going to get so big with four babies,” he said, his voice just slightly quivering in anticipation.

“Why stop at four?” asked Leo. “Are you serious?” replied Marko. “100%. We’ve talked about this before. We both love…” he gestured to his bare tummy, “THIS. We both have decided to take on fatherhood, why not just… shoot for the moon?” he put his shirt back down. Marko pulled into “Albatross Minigolf” and put the car in park, looking very seriously at Leo. “That’s going to be really hard on your body,” “I know,” “We’ll need a bigger car,” “I know,” “We’ll need a bigger APARTMENT!” “Marko… we’ll be fine! We only get to really do this once, lets make the most of it!” said Leo reassuringly. Marko wasn’t sure if “this” meant pregnancy, parenthood, or life in general, but he didn’t care. He kissed Leo on the lips, beyond excited to watch his boyfriend grow huge with his babies.

He got out of the car and ran around to the other side to get the door for Leo. He was more than prepared to dote on the man, already deciding he’d get Leo THREE sundaes after minigolf. After all, they’d need some calories to burn.

3 months later

Now six months along, and swollen with large sextuplets, Leo was solidly what one would call ‘very, VERY pregnant’. His usual button up flannel shirts had grown tighter and tighter until they wouldn’t button. While the pair did like the belly out, unbuttoned shirt look, Leo preferred to be more modest when in public. As the temperature dropped due to the coming of autumn, Leo had switched to his larger sweatshirts to remain covered, and even those didn’t really do the job anymore. Now looking overdue with quads, he waddled through the Willowbrook Square Mall wearing that same beige sweater he wore during minigolf night, once two sizes too big, now pulled tight over his bump and only reaching just above his navel.

To cover his lower belly, he wore a supportive belly band to help redistribute the weight of his womb and provide some modesty. Unfortunately for Leo, but much to Marko’s delight, the top hem of the belly belt and bottom hem of the shirt couldn’t quite meet, resulting in a cheeky strip of exposed tummy, complete with his popped navel peeking out.

Leo’s belly swayed slowly back and forth as he waddled next to Marko, squeezing his hand. He absolutely loved being so pregnant, but he tended to get colder feet in public. He was a sight to behold, and people weren’t shy about staring at his impressive bump. “I think that lady has intentionally hopped from store to store to keep me in view,” whispered Leo meekly, “She just keeps watching me, it’s weird,” “Bet she’s jealous of how great you look,” chuckled Marko. “Marko! I’m serious!” Leo hissed, “I like being this big but I don’t like being the center of attention!”

Marko raised an eyebrow, not liking his boyfriend being nervous. “I can talk to her if you’d like?” Leo shook his head, “Nono, I don’t want confrontation, I just want… honestly I just want a milkshake…” he said as cravings shifted his focus to his empty stomach. With each added baby to his womb, his appetite grew stronger, even as the amount of room in his smooshed digestive system grew smaller. Marko swiftly steered the pair toward the food court, knowing exactly what to get him.

Leo wasn’t much of a foodie before pregnancy, but getting knocked up had not only expanded his palette, but increased his appetite to the point Marko was constantly feeding him. He had actually become something of a good cook, and really enjoyed feeding Leo. As a result of his new caloric intake, Leo has began to physically soften with time, his thighs and ass become pillowier, and for the first time in his life, he had love handles. Marko took this as a point of pride, that his cooking was good enough to make someone a little pudgy. Of course, the constant flow of ice cream treats certainly didn’t hurt either.

“Any preferences, dear?” Marko asked as he helped Leo ease into a chair, which had to be pulled away form the table to make enough room for the belly. “Where you buying?” He asked. Marko tilted his head toward one of the chain restaurants in the court, “Sonic has the biggest shakes here, and I know you like car-” “Carmel oreo please,” grinned Leo. Marko’s heart flittered a little bit at Leo’s innocent smile, still in the honeymoon phase even after being together for so long. He nodded and made his way toward the Sonic, leaving Leo to sit and rest his aching feet.

He placed his hands on the top shelf of his belly, and scanned the food court. He was semi-used to being stared at by this point. Being visibly trans, being in a visibly gay relationship, hell, even his nose ring got glares from older folks. But this felt different, it wasn’t him they were stealing glances of, it was his belly. He felt a draft blow across the sliver of exposed skin between his sweater and belly belt, and felt a little self conscious. To make matters worse, the woman who had been stalking him made a b-line and was actually approaching him. He considered getting up and moving, but knew he’d reached the point in size and weight were he really needed Mareko’s help to do anything quickly.

“Excuse me!” she said, Leo braced for the worst. “I’m sorry, I know I’ve been following you around, we’ve made eye contact like 4 times, but I really need to ask you something,” she continued. Poor Leo grimaced and prepared for the worst. What invasive question would he have to answer this time? She took a seat at his table, sitting across from him. She made eye contact and seemed very direct, something Leo wasn’t super crazy about.

“So my friend is pregnant, and she’s carrying decuplets, and she’s really starting to struggle with her size… where did you get that tummy support thing?” Leo blinked, feeling like an overhyped bandaid was just painlessly torn off. “Oh, uh, there’s a place across town that sells maternity wear, called ‘twins n’ up’, and the owner makes their own stuff. They, uh, they custom made it for me,” he answered. The lady nodded intently and made several notes on her phone.

“Is this lady bothering you, hon?” asked Marko as he returned with 32 ounces of creamy milkshake. “No, actually she was just asking me about this!” Leo pulled the hem of his supporting belt, letting it snap back against is belly. “I swear I’m not trying to harass your husband, he’s just the first person i’ve seen who is as pregnant is my friend and I wanted to know where he got his clothes. I’ll leave you guys alone now, thank you!” she said to Marko, offering her seat to him. Marko’s protective nature made him a little cautious of the woman’s intentions, but she seemed harmless enough. “Take care!” smiled Leo as she left. Marko sat across from him, and handed him the milkshake.

Marko chuckled, “I guess we look like husbands now?” Leo took a long, indulgent sip of his shake, basking in the sugaryness of it all. “I mean, we are growing our family quite a bit,” he patted his tummy, “I think it’s a fair assumption we’re married,” Marko considered the situation for a moment and realized, yeah, it WAS a fair assumption they be married, or at least engaged… maybe it was near time he brought assumption to reality…

3 more months later

Marko and Leo were currently no longer boyfriends. Rather, they were fiances! Marko popped the question privately after a very fun and successful baby shower, and Leo immediately said yes. Some tears of happiness were shed, celebratory cake was consumed, and more babies were added to Leo’s ever swelling womb later that night. Things were progressing smoothly for the expecting couple as they’d moved from their old smaller apartment to a larger, open floor house. 

Now 9 months pregnant with thirteen babies, Leo was a sight to behold. His belly was permanently bared, no wardrobe in the country able to cover his bump. Through some luck, good genes, and lots of cocoa butter, he’d managed to avoid any stretchmarks, but his navel was thoroughly popped. While he’d started the pregnancy off on the skinny side, Marko’s endless flow of food had made sure baby weight accumulated, and now everything from his legs to his chest was growing. The only part of him that didn’t seem to gain any weight was his face, which was still lithe and adorable. His fluffy brown hair had only grown fluffier and fuller with the prenatal vitamins he was taking. He had to lose his blonde highlight though, as the babies could absorb chemicals through hair exposure, strangely enough.

Marko had been hard at work unpacking their whole life into this new house, as Leo had grown too large to really do much besides be doted on, which Marko was fine with. He’d set up their bedroom, and taken the doors off their hinges and removed the doorframes to buy Leo just a few precious weeks of being able to travel through doorways. At the rate they were going, they would need every inch of their open floorplan just for Leo’s titanic tummy.

Leo’s belly now held not only tredecuplets, but enough amniotic fluid to stay full and spherical. He was clocking in at around 300 lbs, and just under half of that was belly. Through the help of Marko, Leo could still walk… but getting up and down was a challenge. Leo’s belly was beyond bigger around than he was tall, and there were substantial portions where he could no longer reach. That didn’t stop the couple from conceiving more though. Even at thirteen full and pregnant beyond words, the couple still had plans for more. Call it some kind of hedonism, but Leo loved being bred and growing ever more massive, and Marko loved to watch. 

Even now, well into January, large snowflakes lazily falling outside, the pair were together, warm and happy. Leo had basically outgrown the couch at this point, his belly more wide than the cushions were deep. Instead, they had splurged on an electric recliner which was situated facing slightly to the right of the television, so that Leo could lay back in a reclined position, but only had to turn his head to see the TV, since he couldn’t see past his own tummy straight on at this point. Strong visible kicks could be seen occasionally poking out of his tightly stretched skin, often in places out of view from Leo himself. 

He sat, laid back in his large, cushy recliner, eating some chinese takeout Marko had picked up for him. He set the styrofoam container on his chest, idly scooping noodles into his waiting mouth. A chow mein noodle fell into his cleavage, something he didn’t have 6 months ago, and he picked it out with his chop sticks, hoping Marko didn’t notice him miss his mouth.

Marko didn’t notice, too enarmored with his future husband’s massive midriff. He got to see it every day, and yet every day he somehow loved it more. His hands were almost always touching it, only off of the bump when cooking or otherwise doing housework. He knew this had to be hard for Leo, being so massive and carrying so many, so Marko worked hard to do his part. Anything Leo wanted, he got. Specific foods, foot rubs, new clothes, a bigger belly… all of it was hand delivered by Marko himself. For being the more dominant of the pairing, he’d become something of a servant as Leo grew closer to immobility.

Right now, Marko had a dining room chair pulled up next to Leo, and was working cocoa butter into the side of his tummy, working slowly to both be gentile and maximize his time spent touching it. It amazed him how no matter his size, or how many were in there, his overburdened belly still had just a little give to it. Leo smiled, watching his partner be just engrossed with his tummy. “You have such a hopeless belly kink,” he chuckled. “Hmmm? Me?” Marko said, almost missing the question cause he was staring at the belly. “Yes you! Even before I got knocked up you liked touching me there! Who’s hands were on my tummy when we made out the first time?” Marko blushed. “I mean, yeah mine... but also who was so eager he got close enough that our glasses hooked on themselves? Who was so willing he whispered how he wanted a ‘baby in him right then and there?’,” Marko teased. 

Leo was the one blushing now, thinking back to one of their first dates. Little did he know just HOW MANY babies would be put in him later in life. “Is it… bad I still want you to put a baby in me?” he said, embarrassed by his own words and avoiding eye contact. Marko set aside the cocoa butter and stood up, taking a good look at the tummy that lay before him. “No… I don’t think it’s bad… but I wonder if there’s room in that belly for any more?” he teased, pressing the tips of his fingers into Leo’s exposed tummy.

“Oh come on Mark, don’t make me beg, you said you’d take care of me?” Leo teased right back, deepening his finance’s blush. “Hmmm…” he rested the side of his head on the front end of Leo’s belly, listening to the ambient, living sounds from inside. “It SOUNDS pretty full, can one guy get any more pregnant?” Leo crossed his arms and mock-pouted. “I won’t ever find out if you keep talking...” Marko leaned over Leo, casting a shadow across his face. “So you’re ready for number 14?” he grinned. Leo wrapped his hand around the back of Marko’s head and pulled him in for a kiss before whispering, “Why stop there?”

Another 3 months later

Marko had needed to make some calls. He had a few contacts with the fabrication industry, and knew some guys always willing to help him out. Now a year pregnant, and full of 20 babies, Leo no longer fit standard furniture. He was simply too large and heavy for traditional couches and chairs. Instead, Marko’s friends had put their heads together, and fashioned him a special, form fitting lounge chair, with a sturdy metal frame and soft, satiny cushions. They even thought ahead and made certain parts of it adjustable to accommodate for his growing size. And growing he was. Now beyond overdue, the growth of his still healthy brood pushed his body to new maximums. Leo often joked about how his womb would need its own zipcode soon.

Leo buttoned his shirt back up, setting the pumping apparatus on the table next to him. He’d had to start pumping his milk, or his breasts would begin leaking on their own, and frankly, he didn't want colostrum on his plaid flannels. “Hon, could you put that in the fridge?” he asked, pointing at the bottles of milk he’d produced. Marko ran his hand along the circumference of Leo’s belly as he moved past him, slightly tickling Leo in the process. He took the bottles and placed them in the fridge before circling back. “How’re you feeling honey?” he asked. “Big. Pregnant. Massive, really,” Leo answered. “Just how you like it?” Marko replied. Leo grinned, “Yeeeaaahhh,”

Marko placed his hands firmly on the expanse of pale, pregnant skin, and started kissing. Leo squirmed on his throne of pregnancy as his husband moved slowly up his belly toward his face. Marko gave him a deep, passionate kiss on the lips, causing Leo’s breath to shake slightly. “You love me so much,” he said in his quivering voice. “I”m so massive and pregnant and huge and round and you adore me like this.” he continued, getting a little emotional. “Of course I do,” replied Marko, giving his lovely husband a side-hug. “You’re my person, and you’re carrying a lot of persons, just for me, and that’s not easy. And I appreciate it. And I want you to know that I love you, both for doing that and for just being you!” Said Marko tenderly. Leo teared up a little, reaching out for another hug. Marko obliged, Leo wiping a couple tears on Marko’s 80’s style denim button-up.

“I couldn’t do all this without you, y’know… all… THIS!” Leo gestured to his astounding belly, which nudged with movement slightly in response. “You shouldn’t ever have to, babe. That’s why we have each other,” The two shared a tender silence, Marko rocking back and forth slowly. Leo sniffed and shook his head, “Augh, sorry. Pregnancy hormones… y’know… make me all emotional.” he said. “You’re allowed to be emotional, babe,” reassured Marko. “I know…” nodded Leo. 

Leo’s tummy rumbled and Marko chuckled, “You also get emotional when you’re hungry…” he pointed out. Leo laughed his bubbly, infectious laugh. “Yeah, I can’t argue with that… lemme see… the babies want…” he paused, “Potato soup!” Marko nodded, making his way to the kitchen to cook a huge batch. “Anything for you, my love,”

[mohamedsghiri]

I love my husband but sometimes i wanna square up

[hermankopusortizorsumshite]

Walsh

Final Part, PART THREE

Also, sorry this is so long. I just wanted to post the whole thing this weekend. So enjoy babes!

Warning: smut, violence, gore, breaking and entering, sarcasm. So much swearing. Mentions of Shane c*ck.

A/N: funny story, I've hated Shane since the Walking Dead aired originally because I thought he was cocky and I was like fourteen. Well, now I'm a 22yr old adult and GOOODDDAMMMN it, Jon Bernthal is a great, wonderful actor and so, so easy on the eyes.

@thewhitewolfownsme thanks for getting me hooked ;)

Kennedie gets up to look out the window, not one for hospitals, when she sees Walsh heading to his cruiser. She almost knocks, but she didn’t want to make it seem like she actually liked him.

“Where’s Walsh going?” She asks, looking to Rick. He shakes his head and scowls, he didn’t know either. Rick joins her, watching out the window as the horror unfolds before their eyes. A small, petite nurse jogs up to the car and he greets her with a hug and a kiss. He hands off something small, she can’t quite see it, but she can deduce by the way the woman wagged them at him and the way he smiled exactly what they were. Shane looks around to see if anyone saw them before he heads back inside.

“Rick, I don’t want him in here.” She whispers, tears falling down her face.

“I don’t blame you.” He assures, patting her shoulder she sits down. Rick heads out the door to meet Shane before he can get in the door. “You’re a liar too?” He growls as he pushes Shane back down the hallway.

“What?” He asks, his body getting chills.

“Go outside.” Rick orders, jabbing a finger at the door. Shane tries to go back to Kennedie’s room but Rick just grabs his collar and drags him out.

“Rick, what’s goin’ on?” He stammers.

“Tell me you didn’t respond right away because you were eating your lunch.” He seethes.

“I told you, when I was eating the keys fell between the seat.”

“It had nothing to do with little miss muffet and her little lace panties?” He asks, pointing to the cruiser. Shane’s eyes blast wide, nothing but whites as he takes a step back.

“Rick, I can explain-”

“Well you better, because you’ve got Kennedie up there so mad she’s crying.” He jabs a finger up to the window with the half-open curtain.

“Shit!” He shouts, slamming his fist into the hood. “Rick! I messed up once!” He cries, fists quaking at his sides. He paces back and forth in front of the cruiser until it’s black outside.

“Shane, go home.” Rick calls as he walks down the lot to their car.

“I can’t, Rick.” He huffs, sitting on the hood.

“She doesn’t want to see you.” Rick shoots into the night.

“I know. But that doesn’t mean I don’t wanna see her. When I got there, she was laying in a pool of her own blood, Rick. I’ve seen dead bodies and I’ve seen a lot of blood, but that made me sick. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t help her. I--I fucked up.” He cries, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“Yeah, you fucked up, Shane. Unfortunately, I can’t fix this fuck up. She hates you.” He breathes a shaky breath out watching Rick leave. As the lights leave the street, Shane heads inside and slips into her room just to see her, to make her real.

“Pussy. Pussy. Pussy. The only thing that lives in Shane Walsh’s mind. Even when someone is breaking into his best friend’s house, pussy. That must be the way to live, huh? Why don’t you worship me like that? Huh? The way you worship the pussy? I wasn’t even worth a ‘sorry I gotta go’.” She throws her stress ball at him, hitting him upside the head.

“Kennie, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, comes out smooth to me. Didn’t come out at all to nurse Panties.” She hisses, rolling away from him.

“So we’re back to this? The insults and anger?” He asks. She jerks into a sitting position and looks at him with a wild look in her eyes.

“Yes Walsh! We’re back to square one because I trusted you! And you were too busy getting laid in a hospital parking lot to respond to a burglary at Rick’s! So yes! We’re back to the beginning! I trusted you because you said you really weren’t that bad and here we are in a hospital because you couldn’t keep that precious Shane cock to yourself. You gotta share that shit with everybody!” She screams, Shane just stands there and takes it. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want to leave.

“Listen, I’m sorr-”

“I don’t want to hear another fake apology come from those stupid lips! Get out Walsh!” She cries, tears pouring down her face.

“Kennedie please don’t make me go.” He whispers, his bottom lip quaking.

“I don’t want you here! Hell, maybe I’ll get lucky and you and nurse panties’ll be fucking on the empty bed there! Wouldn’t that be a goddamn sight!” She roars, kicking her feet.

“Kennedie, I-”

“Quit saying sorry, Walsh. Get out.”

“Please don’t make me-”

“Like you made me trust you and fall in love with you to find out you’re still the same womanizing dickbag you’ve always been? No. You made me. So get out. I swear to god I’ll call security.” She threatens, grabbing her call button.

“Fall in love with me?” He asks, breath hitching in his throat again, that familiar burning sensation in his throat.

“Does it matter now?” She asks, rising to her feet and walking passed him to open the door. “Leave please.” He faces her and sits in the chair.

“I can’t leave.”

“You can and you will.” She grabs her phone and calls Rick. “Please just make him leave. I-I need him gone. I don’t want to call security and make a scene, but dammit he won’t leave. She sits on the edge of her bed crying, sobbing uncontrollably. How dare he make her fall in love with his stupid smile, and those stupid pools of dark chocolate, and that stupid fluffy hair. He stands in the corner by the door, unable to get any closer, but he just looms, watching her cry.

“Shane?” Rick coos, heading into the room. He finds the large man standing in the corner, a terrified look on his face. “C’mon buddy. We gotta go.” He grabs the other man’s elbow and pulls him towards the door. Digging in his heels, Rick hears a small whisper.

“Please don’t. When I leave, all I see her laying in that pool of blood, Rick. I can’t.” He cries, trying to go back.

“Shane, she doesn’t want you in there so you gotta go. You gotta leave.” He pulls Shane from the room. Her strangled sobs mangle his emotions and he steps into the hallway to breathe. Rick’s hand finds his shoulder. “Shane, it’s okay.”

“It’s all my fault. I went by at eight every day but today. Every other day. I checked four times a day just to be sure.” He begs, trying to make it make sense.

“Shane, they got the guys okay?”

“They did?”

“Yeah.”

“Rick. I’m in love with her, Rick. I’ve been in love this whole time. I was excited about cold pizza and movie night. I made breakfast. I took Carl to school. I was nice.” He stammers, listing off everything he did right.

“I know, Shane. But she’s mad at you right now, okay?” Rick tries to reason with this grown man the way he’d reason with his five year old son.

“Kennie?” Lori’s soft voice breaks through her sobbing. She looks up, swiping away the tears and sniffling. “Shane is pretty beat up over you.” She smiles gently, a hand on her best friend’s knee.

“I bet. So am I.” She cries, letting Lori hug her tightly.

“He fucked up, he knows that.” Lori tries to reason with her, but when she realizes what she’s trying to do, she sits up and frowns.

“No no. Don’t you dare try to stand up for him. He did this to himself. And unlike everyone this man child has ever met, I’m not giving into him that easy. He made his bed, let him lay in it a while.” She retorts, rolling her eyes.

“Listen, I know you’re mad at him. I get it, but Shane isn’t good when he’s mad like this. He starts to drink and make bad choices.”

“And who’s fault is that? Mine? I should just cast aside my anger because Shane might get drunk and pass out? He’s a grown man, Lori! He’s not your child!” She shouts, shaking her head in disbelief.

“I know that. I’m just asking you to --”

“To forgive him for getting pussy instead of answering a call to your house, where your son was, and where I was shot. I’m sorry Lori, I don’t know what kind of hold the Shane dick has on you too, but I’m forgiving him yet.” Lori’s hand smacks across Kennedie’s face before she can stop herself.

“I would never-”

“Oh shut it! I’ve seen the way you look at him sometimes, like he’s a fresh piece of steak. I see it. You two probably had some fling before you and Rick got married and now the Shane dick has the almighty power over you.” Kennedie rolls her eyes as Lori stands and stomps out. Kennedie just laughs. Lori would ruin twenty years of friendship over her husband’s best friend’s dick.

“Rick. Let’s go. Shane, get up and leave. You’re being a child.” She hisses, grabbing Rick’s arm and storming for the door.

“What happened?” He asks, looking to Lori with confused eyes.

“I slept with Shane ten years ago, before you ever thought about dating me. Okay? Please don’t be mad. Anyway, I was trying to talk to Kennie about forgiving him but she won’t.” She huffs, getting it all out in one breath.

“Because Shane was fucking a woman in the backseat of the cruiser when he should’ve been responding to a burglary at your house where your son was. Your best friend was shot. And you think she should just forgive him? He fucked up, Lori. He messed up. I know you like to see the best in everyone, but Shane really needs to reevaluate, hunny.” He offers, explaining to her. “And I’m not mad, it was ten years ago.” He chuckles.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She heads back into the room and looks to see Kennedie getting up and dressed. “I’m sorry.” Lori calls from the door.

“It’s fine. I didn’t mean what I said to you, but I’m not forgiving Walsh. So if that’s what you’re here for, I don’t have anything to say.” She pulls on her jeans and Walsh’s tee shirt that she’d stolen at a party long ago.

“I know. You don’t have to forgive him, but please forgive me.” She asks, sitting next to her and hugging her.

“I could never stay mad at you.” Kennedie chuckles, hugging back. “The doc let me go, so. I guess I’m outta here.” She pats her knees as she rises and heads out the door.

“Let me drive you home.” Shane begs, grabbing at her hand.

“Let you drive me anywhere? No. Fuck you. I actually never wanna see you again. So.” She shoves him away and walks out the door.

“You can ride home with us. Your car is still in the driveway.” Lori calls as Shane gets into the cruiser. He follows them to Rick’s. Rick gets out and gives Shane a confused look.

“Walsh, go home.” She bites, throwing a fist at him. “Oh my god, Lori. I gotta clean the blood off the floor.” She calls, jogging inside.

“No no, we had cleaners come in hunny.” Lori chuckles, hugging her tight before they go in the house. It was spotless, like nothing happened.

“Wow.” She whispers, taking in the memories of the weekend.

“Tell me something though. Were you and Walsh really hanging out and like, not hating each other?” Rick asks as she grabs her bag.

“Yeah, kinda. He was almost nice.”

“Aunt Kennie says uncle Shane is a woman fighter.” Carl states from the edge of the hallway. Walking tiredly to Lori, he gets up on the counter. “Uncle Shane came and made breakfast one morning. He even spanked aunt Kennie, but she spanked him back. Then they both had white on their butts.” Carl gives a sleepy little smile. “Uncle Shane came back for pizza and they laid on the couch like you do with daddy.” He points to Rick and she feels her cheeks flame.

“I thought you were sleeping you little stinker.” She laughs, tickling him as he erupts into giggles.

“Did you know all my other friends have aunts and uncles who are married. How come you and uncle Shane aren’t married?” He asks, yawning and curling against Lori. She looks ove her son expectantly with a smirk.

“It just wasn’t meant to be little dude.” She smiles sadly, patting his shoulder.

A month goes by without so much as a sound from Walsh. As she’s walking to his apartment, she hears a thump and opens the door to find Shane laying on the floor.

“Wow, look what the cat dragged in.” He gives a drunken whisper as he tries to stand up.

“Yeah, lookie there.” She coos, smiling sadly at him.

“You-look--” He covers his mouth a moment before he sucks in a breath and vomits on the hardwood floor.

“Not as good as you.” She laughs, pulling him up off the floor and getting him into a shower. Tugging off his black tee shirt and his jeans, taking a deep breath before pushing him under the water. “C’mon Walsh, stand up.” She coos, trying to help him. Finishing his shower, she gets him walked to his bed and laid down, tugging off his sopping wet underwear and putting on basketball shorts. He’s snoring soundly when she steps out of the room. Her eyes land on the pizza boxes and beer cans like a frat party had been tossed there in his living room.

“Christ, Walsh.” She whispers, folding up all the boxes and stuffing them into a bag, shoving all the bottles and cans into another. Tidying up the couch, she even vacuums the floor for him. Hearing a groan, she looks up to see Shane standing in the doorway, staring at her with the most bewildered expression.

“Ken?” He asks taking a step into the living room to find it clean. “Kennedie, what are you doing here?” He asks, stepping a little closer.

“You called me and told me you had the perfect idea for Carl’s birthday. And when I got here, you were on the floor drunk. I showered you, not fun.” She snorts, scrubbing the couple of dishes in the sink.

“Did you put these shorts on me?” He asks, raising a brow.

“Yes.” She nods, heading for the door. She turns on one foot daintily and gives him a smirk. Eyes dropping to his crotch and back up, “and I really don’t understand the hype. It’s not that big.” He just laughs, leaning against the hallway wall.

“Bah, you’ll sing a different tune someday.” He crows, wagging a finger at her.

“Shut up, Walsh.” She chuckles, grabbing the handle and heading outside.

“Hey, slow up a minute.” He coos, heading towards her. Cornering her against the door, he leans in, his breath warm against her face.

“Walsh, what are you doing?” She asks, looking up at him through her lashes, her cheeks flushing red.

“Ssh ssh ssh.” He hushes, putting a thick finger against her lips. Instinctively her tongue swipes against her lips and his finger.

“Shane.” She whispers, careful where she put her hands. Planting them on his chest was the wrong move. He leans his weight against her now, her hands pressed into his chest.

“Sweet girl, I think you are the most beautiful girl in the world. I love you.” He whispers, getting so close to her lips his ghost across hers.

“Walsh, I need you to take a step back.” She whispers, pushing him gently away.

“Why? Can’t you see that I’m in love with you?” He asks, looking to her with glossy, dark brown orbs.

“Because you are still drunk and tomorrow you’ll have that cock slamming into some other whore, so I’m sorry Walsh, but your drunk ass is not kissing me.” She steps out and shuts the door. Leaning against the cool wood door to breathe, she hears a thump behind her.

“I love you sober.” He whispers, sending chills down her back.

Carl’s birthday party was at one, and she was there at eleven with the cake. When she got there, Shane’s Jeep was parked in her spot. Typical Walsh.

“Walsh! Your Jeep is in my spot!” She shouts, seeing Shane’s curly top poke above the sofa. He jumps to his feet and her breath hitches in her throat. His sheer size and chest width made her heart patter, but the button up half buttoned and the denim clad thighs. The silver necklace around his neck placed perfectly against his chest.

“What’s the matter?” Shane asks, looking at her and winking.

“N-nothing. Walsh, can you help me?” She points over her shoulder toward the door. His smirk is sexy and sweet, her eyes drinking him in as he saunters out the door. “The uh, the cake-here.” She slips between him and the door of her honda pulls it out. Carefully handing it off to him as her arms start to shake.

“This all you needed?” He asks, eyes drifting to her as he tries to hide a smile. His eyes drink her in; that yellow floral sundress riding high on her thighs, the sandals on her feet, her curls falling over her shoulder.

“Yeah, of course it is. Thank you. At least you’re good for something.” She chides.

“Better be careful, lady! I’ll drop this cake!” He threatens, calculating a wobble in his step.

“Walsh, if you drop that I promise you I will drop you.” She giggles, pulling open the door.

“Ooh, do it baby. I wanna see you try.” He chuckles, daring her to do it. Sitting the cake on the counter, she heads out to her car to get Carl’s gift. Shane follows her out this time, his hand slips down and grabs her ass, gripping tight.

“Shane!” She jumps, holding her breath.

“What baby? You don’t like that? Sh, I know you do. I love you. And I meant that shit. I can’t explain to you how it felt to kneel in your blood and hold you, not knowing what to do.” He whispers, shivering at the trauma.

“Shane Walsh. Stop it.” He leans her into her car and presses his lips firmly, sweetly, promisingly against hers.

“Just say it. You were right.”

“Aw thank you Walsh, I knew I was right.” He pushes her into Rick and Lori’s garage, pulling the door shut behind them. He drives her against the wall, lips soft and sensual against hers as he holds her against him.

“I saw how you were looking at me earlier. You wanted me.” He huffs into her ear as he lets her hands drift across the bare part of his chest.

“Yeah. No shit. I think you're hot.” She stammers, yanking at Shane’s shirt.

“That’s a first.” He coos, wriggling his knee between her legs. “I think you’re hot. Sometimes when I bang other women, I think of you.” She’s taken aback for a moment before she just laughs.

“Shane, shut up.” She grinds through her teeth as she hooks her arms around his neck and tugs his lips to her neck. His lips go to work and her hands massage his bare shoulders. Shane gets them into a spot between the shelves and totes where they couldn’t be seen and he lets her scoop up her skirt and he grabs her panties. When he pulls them down he chuckles, the same black panties he’d teased her about.

“Goddamn you are beautiful.” He hushes as he leaves open-mouthed kisses across her exposed collarbone and up her neck. He stops on her lips, pressing a hot, delicious kiss there.

“Shane. Will you please do your job and fuck me?” She nips through shivers as he takes his time. Her fingers fumble with the belt and she undoes his jeans in record time. Sliding into her, he takes his time to get comfortable firsrt, before his thrusts are fast and hard, a hand covering her mouth because currently there were about twelve little kids inside screaming. “Shane. Shane please.” She whines softly, gripping his hair as he drives up into her, legs quaking as she reaches her orgasm, she grips his ebony locks so tight his scalp starts to tingle, but he likes it. Ramming into her as she clenches and spasms around him, making his heart slam hard into his chest before he sinks into her once more, spilling his hot seed in her. Slipping out with a soft groan, he tucks himself away and tugs . his shirt back on, buttoning it up like before. Half open shirt, necklace hanging around his neck and his heart still pounding, he looks to her to find her still leaned against the wall, eyes closed and breathing heavily. Leaning forward, he grabs her waist and pulls her against him. Gingerly pulling up her panties, he pulls a dark blue hankerchief from his pocket and wipes his seed from the inside of her legs before pulling her panties on the rest of the way. Her arms around his neck, he stuffs the kerchief back in his pocket and starts to hum, swaying with her.

“I do love you.” He coos in her ear, his wide hands splaying to cover almost her whole lower back.

“I love you too, Walsh.” She giggles, softly sighing as she sifts her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Will you quit calling me Walsh? At some point, when we’re married, people will think it’s weird if you’re still calling me Walsh, and not Shane. Or hunny. Hunny works, or baby. But not Walsh.”

“Hey Shane? Get used to it. It’s hard to even call you Shane. I just wanna throw insults at you but it seems wrong now, cause like Walsh dick really is that good.” She laughs, letting him kiss her face; her cheeks, her nose, her lips, and her favorite, he places the gentlest kiss on her forehead and adjusts her dress before he checks his watch.

“It’s twelve-fifteen, baby.” He whispers, sending chills down her back.

“Goddamn it, Walsh. You truly gotta ruin everything.” She whines heading back into the the house through the back door that leads into the kitchen. Lori’s eyes meet hers with a knowing grin as she hands Kennedie some plates and a basket of silverware. Screeching kids come flying into the kitchen in party hats and swimming trunks all kinds of different colors.

“Carl! Not the kitchen!” Lori yells as she grabs a bowl of pasta salad.

“Sorry mom!” He shouts, racing into the living room. Shane’s hand grips her ass as she walks passed the grill with her hands full and she gasps, eyes burning into him as he grins and he and Rick laugh.

“Those two are trouble.” She huffs to Lori as she sees her best friend chuckle with the men. “You too?” She asks incredilously, staring at Lori as though she’d been betrayed.

“Hey Lori! I’m just dropping off Gavin!” A sweet, high pitched voice calls. As she looks to see who it is, Shane stiffens and holds his breath. “Hi Shane.” She coos, giving him a sultry wave. He nods back and wraps his arms around her waist.

“Let it go. I love you.” He whispers into her ear as he holds tight to her, his lips pressing into her neck.

“Shut it, Walsh.” She nips, slipping from his grip and stepping into the house to breathe. He follows closely behind, stepping in with her and leaning her against the door.

“I love you, don’t you get that?” He coos, thumb smoothing her cheek.

“I just--it feels surreal, Shane.” She whispers, letting him pull her against his chest.

“Listen to me, baby. I love you. The minute you shot back at me with insults I was done for. It was infuriating, it was beautiful. And you packed me lunch like some kind of domestic, sweet little house wife, and don’t take offense to that, but I loved it. Every minute. I was the proudest man in King County to go to work with your pink lunch box in the passenger seat of the cruiser. I wanna marry you. I wanna marry you and--and--get old with you. I love you, you fiesty lil thing.” Tears fall down her face as she grips his face and kisses his lips warmly and happily.

“I love you, Shane. I love you so much.” She coos, hugging his neck.

[mashiraostail]

Hiiii, i was wondering if i could request some vlad king and gang orca taking care of their s/o pets. Like if the reader was out of town and asked them to take care of their dogs👉👈 i feel like vlad is such a good doggy dad that the dogs play together and i feel like gang orca would be lost but doing his best and if he was taking care of a cat i like to think it would love being around him because cats love fish and he would just always have his s/o cat cuddling on his lap. Im sorry for ranting lol i love your work you're doing great💕

awwehehe this is so cute since you mentioned dogs for vlad and cats for kugo that's what i went with! also indulged myself and included kugo/ jiro/shoji content bc that seems like such a GOOD FUNNY AND WHOLESOME trio and i wanted more content than we got smh 

Sekijiro Kan/Vlad King: "Hey Sek, I need a huge favor.” You look up from your phone at the taller man who is currently scrunched into the corner of his couch scrutinizing a piece of paper with really terrible handwriting on it.  “Sounds dangerous.” He replies without looking up and you snort dropping to the cushion beside him.  “Only a little, but I think you’re good for it.”  “Alright then, so what’s the favor?” His eyes flick up to you. “I need to go visit a friend out of town.” You sigh, “she had a baby last month, I used to work with her husband and she asked if I wanted to spend some time back home with her for her birthday next week, I should be about five days.” You rest your hands on his knees, “so while I’m out there..would you mind watching Kilo for me? I hate to leave him behind but It’d be a pain to travel so far with him I know he hates trains.”  “That’s a huge favor?” He raises an eyebrow at you, “sure I can watch him. I bet they’ll get along fine.” He glances at his own dog curled up under a chair.  “But only If you can figure out what the hell Monoma tried to write here.”  For all intents and purposes, Kilo was a good dog, a little stupid, but a good dog nonetheless. To be honest, he’s really honored you trust him with the task, you’re the only person he’s met that seems to love your own dog as much as he loves his. Plus it also meant that Kilo had to like him a fair bit which was also a relief, as a dog owner he knew any potential partner was only as compatible with him as they were with his dog, and his dog loved you, he was sure you felt the same way, any partner that Kilo didn’t get along with would be impossible for you to get along with, he found it more than a little reassuring that Kilo seemed to enjoy his company. Past all that, and maybe even most important this was a perfect opportunity to introduce the two dogs. He was sure it was no secret to you but this wasn’t exactly a casual fling, with the way things were going it felt pretty inevitable that he’d ask if you wanted to move in together; but if the two didn’t get along well then..that’d be an issue. Though he was sure if things got tested out now you’d have some time to at least try to get the dogs to be comfortable with each other or hopefully think of some sort of workaround. In his eyes, this was a blessing for him as much as it was a favor to you.  “Are you sure you don’t mind keeping Kilo at your place?” Sekijiro is slightly embarrassed to say how early he arrived at this park, he wanted to tire his own dog out before introducing the pair, he’d advised you to do the same so you were walking to the park, you'd called him on your way.  “Of course I don’t mind babe.” He tosses a ball from his seat on the bench and watches his pudgy bulldog trot over to it, “it’ll be easier this way, right?”  “Yeah that’s true, I just don’t want Kilo wrecking any of your stuff, he always means well but he gets into trouble sometimes-”  “Don’t worry about it, he’ll be a model student by the time you get back.” He hears you laugh into the receiver at that. “I don’t doubt that, I’m almost there, I’ll see you in a few okay?”  “Yeah sure thing, can’t wait.” You huff out another laugh at him before hanging up.  “Sekijiro!” You chirp brightly at the sight of the man, he’s too busy taking you in to respond. Kilo’s trotting a foot or so in front of you on his leash, that old joke about dogs looking reminiscent of their owners was certainly true in your case, you both looked delighted to see him and beyond that, you were practically glowing... Maybe he just had a thing for people who were good with animals.  “Hey Sek?” You lean down in front of him.  “Hey! He welcomes Kilo between his knees, the mixed breed was a bit larger than his dog who was currently bounding back to him with a ball and sufficient slobber hanging from his mouth, the size difference in mind though Kilo was a hell of a lot less bulky, he was practically streamlined, Sekijiro had seen how fast the dog could run with his own eyes. He could see why you took so much pride in the dog, he was definitely beautiful his coat was long, wavy, and shiny and he had big blue eyes and admittedly the cutest pink nose and spotted tongue Sekijiro had ever seen.  “Thanks so much again for doing this I really-” An excited bark pulls your attention downwards, “look who it is!” You sing, crouching down to pet the panting dog, “you sure look tired. Sekijiro is working you too hard.” You frown at him as he hops up to rest his front paws on your thighs. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Sekijiro laughs, “but he is worn out, I guess Kilo is too though.” Kilo’s head is on his knee, the larger dog is panting too.  They seem to notice each other, and approach with a lazy curiosity. They sniff around each other for a bit but after that return to their respective activities, seemingly unbothered by each other and the proximity of the other dog to their owner. Kilo didn’t mind your cooing at Vlad’s dog who didn’t seem to mind Kilo’s head in his owner's lap. With that little bit of reassurance, you hand him Kilo’s leash and a bag of his stuff; food dish, some toys and treats and the like, and then you part ways after promising to call him when you get to your home town safely.  All in all the coming days are pretty uneventful, Kilo joins them on their daily walks, eats at the same time with no trouble, finds a comfortable place to sleep each night.  “Is Kilo alright?” Your voice is nervous in the receiver.  “He’s better than babe, seriously they’re getting along great.”  “God that’s such a relief.” You sigh, “the pictures you’ve sent are cute..gosh I miss him.” You pout a little. “Gee I miss you too babe.” He mutters it with a playful edge to his voice and you gasp,  “I was going to say I miss you too but forget it!”  “don’t be mean!” He complains back, “I was kidding! And anyway I miss you. How’s it been out there?”  You go off on your usual tangents before ending up back at square one.  “Oh! I called you for a reason actually!” You remember, “I’ll be a little bit late getting back on Sunday, one of the trains is going to be down so I’m taking a later one, I should be back around midnight now would you mind-”  “Of course not babe, I’ll get you from the station so-”  “No no! It’s okay you’ve already done so much that’s not what I was going to ask! I just wanted to be sure you wouldn’t mind keeping Kilo around for the extra time...I can get a taxi, seriously don’t wait up for me!”  “Well just come to my place when you get back right?”  “I wouldn’t wanna wake you up-”  “It’s been way too long since I saw you last, so I don’t mind, if you won’t let me pick you up from the station at least come right here.”  “You’re convincing.” You laugh a little, embarrassment heating up your face, “I guess that’s fine with me then...” A distant sounding voice pulls you away from the receiver, “Sek I have to go, I’ll call you again soon though!”  “Don’t worry about anything babe.” He reassures you as you hang up.  There is one minor spat over a rope toy but it’s resolved easily enough and the pair seem to get on swimmingly after that, even sharing a couch cushion and occasionally resting their heads on each other, they become incredibly fast friends, which is probably the biggest relief on the planet to Sekijiro. Watching the two of them play tug of war in his living room or witnessing their schemes to get leftovers off the counter on Thursday night essentially cement his vision of a future with you.  If you were being totally honest it was embarrassing how attractive you found Sekijiro getting along with your dog to be, you’d never got the obsession of handsome guys holding cute babies but seeing some of the photos he’d sent to you over the almost 6 days you were gone made butterflies crop up in your stomach the likes of which you’d only felt when he was actively trying to fluster you...but this seemed totally unintentional. To say you were incredibly eager to go home and see him (jump his bones) felt like an understatement. It’s past midnight when you get back and the place is mostly dark, you see a vaguely bulldog shaped blob partially under a blanket on the couch, but the snoring it emits gives away it’s identity easily. You leave your bag at the door and venture into the apartment, poking your nose into the bedroom.  Of course, Sekijiro is there, dead asleep on his back, and who’s with him but Kilo, his head resting on the blood hero’s chest one of his hands resting on top of it.  “Oh Vlad-” You coo, you practically sing it at him.  “Wha-whatsitwhat-” He rubs his face as he picks his head up, “oh, hey welcome back ‘s good to see you, missed you-”  “You’re so sweet-” You’re already at the side of his bed, leaning down and kissing him.  “What’s-” Sekijiro takes a minute to process everything before he realizes it’s Kilo’s head on his chest making you act like this.  “Oh no way, he’s been a total angel-”  “I’m so glad he likes you so much-” You murmur it between kisses, to his lips and various other spots on his cheeks and jaw, “you guys are adorable together.”  “I’m glad you think so-” He cuts himself off with a yawn and turns into your lips, kissing you again before speaking, “you weren’t kidding about that late train huh? It’s almost 1 AM, you must be exhausted, there’s plenty of room for you in here so come on.” 

Kugo Sakamata/Gang Orca: “Hey, Kugo...” You approach him from behind and wrap your arms around his shoulders, leaning against the back of the chair he’s sat in.  “Yes?” One hand comes up to cover your forearm the other stays dutifully at work.  “You love me, right?” You rest your head against his and he pricks up at the inquisition.  “Of course I do, why would you ask a question like that? Is something wrong?”  The way his hand subtly squeezes your arm isn’t lost on you.  “Hmm..no nothing's wrong.” You lean into him and close your eyes as he sighs good-naturedly. “Then what? Did you just want to hear me say it?” He leans back into you, “I guess I could entertain that...” His thumb swipes a long stroke over the skin of your forearm, “I love you, dear.” He can feel you prickle up at that behind him. “I love you too Kugo.” You squeeze him tighter and he huffs out a quiet laugh. “I’m glad to hear it. Now is that all you needed?” He puts his pen down to bring his other hand up to your arms, “I’m a bit busy. You’re welcome to stay there if you like though I just need to finish some paperwork and make a few phone calls. After that, we can do whatever you like for the night.”  “Well, now that you mention it there was just one more thing. I’ll be fast I promise.” Your hand slides underneath his lapel and into his jacket.  “Don’t worry I can make a bit of time for you then, what’s the matter?” You make eye contact with him through his darkened computer screen.  “My boss invited me to this big conference next week, it’s a pretty great opportunity and I could meet some important people..” You explain, biting your lip, “it could be really good for me to branch out even she thinks so, and getting some more experience will be great, and it’s pretty close to my hometown so I figured I'd stop in and see some old friends after I got done..It’d be about 5 or so days and I’d really like to go.” You sigh and he seems more than a little confused based on his reflection.   “That does sound like a great opportunity for you, you’re right..what’s the problem then? Do you need advice about something?” His confusion doesn’t quell even as you kiss his temple. “I probably will later but for now the problem is Luna.” “Your cat?” Kugo piques, “why is she a problem?”  You sigh, “if I’m not around no one will be there to feed her and make sure she stays out of trouble.”  “Oh is that it? That’s no problem at all dear, I can look after her for you. Is that what you were going to ask me?”  “You don’t mind?” You perk up, “I don’t want to trouble you...and I know I could just as easily leave a key under my mat and have a neighbor do it but I trust you so much more and-”  “It’s no trouble, really.” Kugo laughs a little, "I pass by your apartment all the time on patrols, I’m sure the interns won't mind if I make a stop and head up to check on her every now and again.”  “Oh! You can totally bring them up if they like cats!” He laughs at that too.  “Was that all?”  “Mhm.” You nod and use the motion to nestle into him a bit, “Thank you Kugo.”  ”It’s really my pleasure. Leave it to me, alright?”  All things considered, Kugo’s also pretty honored to be trusted with the task of watching your pet cat, he knows how much you love and worry about her, you dote on her all the time, and if the copious amount of photos you send him of her say anything she’s definitely your pride and joy. For the most part, you spent the bulk of your time with Kugo at his own home, due largely to the fact that he was larger than average and he existed a fair bit more comfortably there, but he paid you visits in your apartment from time to time and had met the cat, she seemed to like him plenty which was a relief as well.  You stop at Kugo’s before you leave and give him a list of things to double-check when he stops in, though you reassure him that there shouldn’t be any problems, Luna was pretty independent and mellow she didn’t like going outside so he didn’t have to worry about her escaping or anything like that. He tries to stop in at least 3 times a day, before, during, and after patrols, he knows that’s probably overkill, you spend all day at work and have never had an issue but he hates the idea of something happening to the feline on his watch. Plus even if he wouldn’t readily admit it he saw this as a perfect time to get on the cat's good side, you said she already loved him but he wasn’t convinced. He knew how much you loved her and any vision of your future that he had always featured the mellow feline so in his mind it was imperative they got on well. On top of that, he was glad you trusted him with something as small and delicate as Luna, she fits pretty comfortably in his hand and was as fragile as she was petit, but you never seemed off-put by the idea of him holding her or petting her, in fact, you encouraged it. The way you even wanted him near her when you weren’t around to supervise put him at ease about his strength and size, he always worried about breaking delicate things, but that wasn’t a worry you seemed to echo.  “Is something going on in that building?”  Shoji looks up at your complex as he pauses by it, “you’re stopping here a lot since yesterday.”  “Huh? Oh. Actually no... well nothing of importance to you. I’m...catsitting.” Jiro holds her breath the hold in the laugh, “Catsitting?”   “Yes...my partner is away at a work conference, the cat in question is theirs.” Kugo nods, “if you like cats you can come up and meet her, she’s actually quite friendly.”   Kugo was pretty used to Luna at this juncture, but whenever other people met her it was easy to see why you were so proud of her, she was quite the stunning cat, a long dark grey and black coat with big green eyes and a swishing tail, her paws were colored as if she was wearing boots.  “Wow...she’s really pretty, I’ve never seen a cat like this.” Jiro was crouched on the ground, stroking her neck.  “I was surprised too.” Kugo confesses, “they found her in a box on the side of the road about a year before we met. She was only a kitten then. Her name’s Luna.”  She seemed to like the pair equally alternating between them, rubbing against their legs and shuffling her head into their palms.  “She is very friendly.” Shoji remarks as she purrs at him, attempting to climb into his lap.  “She’s good at getting into trouble, but she usually means well. You can stay with her for a minute.” He sets off to double-check the usual; food, water, litterbox, the loose window that she’s always wiggling open despite having no desire to climb out of it, he waters a few plants and straightens up anything she knocked over as well. When he returns she's overturned on Shoji’s lap.  “You’re getting along well.” He swipes a pillow she’d knocked over up and replaces it on the couch.  “She’s really sweet!” Jiro is scratching her stomach. “I’m glad to hear it.”   “Hey..sorry if this is too personal or whatever but I didn’t know you were.. dating someone... We didn’t snoop or anything though!” She swears, holding both hands up, the cat looks disgruntled at the loss of attention.  “It’s alright I trust you.” Kugo waves her off, “Luna looks too comfortable anyways, you’ve clearly been petting her this whole time.” He adds with a small chuckle. At the sound of her name, she rolls over and winds around his feet, circling through his ankles and pawing at his pants until he lifts her up.  “To answer you though yes I am seeing someone.” He holds Luna with one hand, his ring and middle finger scratching the patch of grey fur on her chest.  “Are they a hero too?” She wonders, straightening up.  “No...no they’re not, I’m not very public about this sort of thing.”  Shoji contemplates that, “they have a nice apartment.”  “That is true, it’s a good job, and they do have a pretty keen eye for decorating” He agrees, looking around amicably.  “Have you guys been together for a long time?” Jiro blurts out before feeling color float up to her cheeks, “sorry I don’t mean to be rude... I just never pictured you like this I guess I’m curious-”  “It’s okay, most people don’t, and yes, we’ve been together a while now.” Kugo raises a hand to calm her, “but like I said before I’m not very public about things like this which is why you wouldn’t have heard..though either way, even when we do go out together... most people don’t assume I do that sort of thing, and to be frank, we aren’t the most...visually compatible pair..” He says that with a distinct fondness in his voice and then continues, “like you said, you don’t really picture me in this sort of light, most people don’t so hero gossip tabloids tend to leave me alone for the most part, I get a fair bit of freedom when it comes to this sort of thing because of that. There are probably plenty of photos of us together out there, though people usually assume they’re my manager or a secretary or just a friend.” Luna is purring loudly in his hand, her body largely slack against his chest. He walks her over to the couch and sets her down, which she warbles angrily at, “to be honest though I prefer it this way. I’m a private person.”  “That makes sense...well, their cat sure likes you.” Shoji points and Kugo chuckles.  “I’m fond of her myself.” Kugo admits, “everything is as it should be here so we can head out again, sorry for the tangent.” He scratches Luna’s neck and sighs, “as for you I’ll be back tonight. So try to behave until then, for my sake alright?”  Jiro tries not to laugh at the sight. “I didn’t think you’d actually bring them up! Did they like her?”  You sound delighted about it over the phone that night.  “I may have knocked a few intimidation points off of myself, but yes they thought she was cute.” He was sitting with her, contemplating staying the night here. He was embarrassed to say it but this was the longest you’d spent apart in a while and despite any appearances, he had gone soft and was starting to miss you, being around your stuff was nice even if he didn’t fit too well in your bed.  “I don’t think you’re very intimidating at all.” You peep back thoughtlessly. “Well, I’d sure hope not.” He chuckles and leans against the couch, “she’s been good too I was,..expecting her to break more.”  Truthfully Kugo wasn’t sure what he was expecting, he never had pets growing up and hero work didn’t give much free time to consider one, it took a day to get comfortable with her, and even now he was watching his every step for her. “I’m glad to hear that!” You laugh, “she’s a pretty great cat isn't she?”  “I have to agree..” Kugo wouldn’t mind having her around all the time, the longer he sat on your couch and contemplated it the more he realized he wouldn't mind having the both of you around all the time. Was this some sort of emotional sign to ask you to stay with him? He’d give that more thought at a later date.  “Kugo are you listening?” “Of course I am.” He was not. You don’t seem perturbed though, chuckling and then sighing fondly, “I’m gonna go shower then call it a night, I miss you two though.”  Kugo looks down at the cat on his lap and he nods, “we miss you too. I’ll be up for a bit longer so call or text me if you need anything.”  “You shouldn’t stay up so late Kugo it’s bad for you-”  “I know, I know, I’ll turn over a new leaf when you get back.”  “Sure you will.” You snort, “I love you Kugo.”  “I love you too, I’ll see you soon.”  You wanted to see Kugo first thing when you got back but you were so exhausted that you can’t help sulking to your own place, things had gone well enough but all the commotion and travel really drained you. You were sure it wasn’t anything spending some time or even a night with Kugo couldn’t fix though. When you shoulder your door open though there’s Kugo, sitting on your couch.  “Kugo, you’re here?” He’s holding some papers in one hand, the other is holding Luna’s back, keeping her against his chest.  “I was just checking in on her but every time I tried to leave she started..making a weird noise.”  “Weird like how?” You chuckle, suddenly feeling much better.  “Sort of like screaming. But cat-like. I sat down and she clawed her way up here, then fell asleep and almost fell off, but I caught her and she hasn’t moved since.”  “And... how long ago was that?”  “What time is it?” “Half-past 6.”  “2 hours ago. I didn’t want to wake her.”  “Kugo.” You laugh and sit beside him, “you’re so sweet.” You wrap both of your arms around one of his and lean into his shoulder, “I missed you so much.”  “I missed you too.” Kugo sets the papers down on the pile by the arm of the couch, “It's sort of embarrassing but I even stayed here a few nights because of it. I can’t remember the last time I went even 2 days without seeing you.” He appreciates the way you seem to melt into him at that.  “That’s not embarrassing it’s sweet, you’re so cute Kugo...” You lean up and kiss him, “such a big softie aren’t you?”  A soft hum is his reply as you pull away, “was she any trouble? Be honest.” “I was worried at first that I’d screw it up somehow but it went fine.” He confesses as he lifts the cat off his chest and she’s sleepy and limp in his big hand, purring contentedly.  “She was acting up the 2nd day but I think she was just confused about not seeing you. Then she got used to me and was alright.”  “That’s cute..” You yawn and clamber onto his lap, “god all that traveling tired me out...you’ve been stuck here for 2 hours but I might have to trap you a little longer to take a catnap of my own. I think Luna’s onto something...” You nestle into his shoulder, grateful to feel his arms come around you.  “Don’t worry about me.” He hums as Luna curls up in the sliver of space between your bodies, “I just want to finish reading over some things. Then I'll bring you both to bed.”  “You’ll stay tonight?” You yawn again and he hums, you can tell he’s smiling even though you can’t see him. “Would you like me to?”  You nod into his shoulder, “yeah, I would...”  “Alright then I will. Now go to sleep, you need it.” 

[sweetsubharry]

hi! can you give me your hottest, dirtiest, filthiest bottom harry fics?

Hiya!! Yes I can! ^-^

Now there are 41 different fics under this list, so it’s quite long! Obviously what people find dirty/filthy can be a large range, so if you ever want to narrow it down just send another message like ‘no plot’ for example :) and then I can make it more suited to your taste if this one isn’t! I hope you enjoy this though love ❤

In case no one gets to the bottom of the page I’ll say it again here too! Please make sure to stay safe and read the tags!! ❤ ❤

you're my favorite ride by louislovesharry

no summary 

At Least As Deep As the Pacific Ocean (I wanna be yours) by babylouis

Louis can’t help but stop and watch him for a moment, how beautiful he looks, sprawled out on the bed, his cock red and hard against his tummy, collar snug against his neck and the bow still placed neatly in his curls to keep them back from Harry’s face.

His boy may be the most beautiful creature on the planet.

Especially tied up like this, body begging to be fucked. Begging to be destoryed.

or

Louis likes to push boundaries, and Harry takes what he gets. Lots of subspace Harry and fonding Louis ensues.

redder than the devil by mercutionotromeo

It's half past 9, and all Harry wants is for Louis to touch him. Preferably after a good spanking.

If you combine a lazy Saturday afternoon with a distracting, pouty Harry, you'll end up with Louis spanking his baby over his knee in the middle of a paused FIFA match.

Pretty please, take care of me ? by kurtcobain

Louis is stressed. Harry wants to help.

Step into the Light by Smolbeanandhisqween

Harry is on the set of his new music video "Lights Up". His husband, Louis, is watching him film the video. He gets jealous of all of the people touching Harry and teaches him a lesson.

Destroy Me, King by stylinsexualxo

After SNL, jealous Louis has a little surprise for Harry when he arrives home.

Can We Pretend (honestly reality bores me) by SadaVeniren

He felt Louis chuckle. “Dreaming of being my supportive, no-name boyfriend again?”

“Always,” Harry whispered. It was true. After all this time together there was no point in hiding any of his fantasies from Louis, no matter how innocent they were. So Louis was well aware of Harry’s desire to be anonymous sometimes - the “no-name” as Louis called him - loyal, a constant presence at Louis’ side.

aka Harry comes and supports Louis at his Scala concert

Let Me Be Good For You by onlyhuman for haroldtbh

His distress over the bun is nothing compared to the thrill Louis feels shoot up his spine at the outfit Harry’s donned. He’s changed into leather jeans that cling to his legs, hugging his thighs snugly. On top of it, a floaty, black sheer shirt is contouring his frame, doing absolutely nothing to hide his puffy nipples or the endless array of tattoos scattered across his torso. It’s Louis’ favourite outfit in the entire world.

Or, Niall's only birthday wish is to go clubbing with his boys in Vegas. Harry ruins it all by wearing that god forsaken black sheer shirt.

You Like Playing Games by orphan_account

Louis knows Harry likes to flirt and tease. Louis knows that he doesn’t particularly like when Harry flirts and teases. Louis knows that Harry knows that Louis doesn’t particularly like it.

But what Louis doesn’t quite know is why, despite that, Harry’s decided to grind against 5 Seconds of Summer’s Luke Hemmings during “Teenage Dirtbag” in the last show in Melbourne.

Basically pure smut.

Do Not Disturb (kiss me beneath the milky twilight) by SadaVeniren

“I was talking with Nick a couple months back and he was saying how our sex life seemed boring and we’d need to keep doing new and interesting things to keep it exciting or else we’d become boring and heterosexual and I defended us of course but then work picked up and we started living off of studio handjobs and missionary position sex in the dark and so I panicked. I googled BDSM and after looking into it I really want to try some of it because I think we’d enjoy it but we just don’t have the time.”

aka Harry doesn't want to become a boring old married couple a year into their relationship and tries to spice up their sex life.

Forgetting Frisco by iwillpaintasongforlou

Harry probably knew when he decided to wear that goddamn sheer shirt onstage in Toronto that it was going to drive Louis absolutely insane with want. He probably didn't know that Louis was going to proceed to fuck him so good he had flashbacks for years to come just like Frisco, but then again, you won't hear him complaining.

(Basically 6k of Louis worshipping Harry's body and doing it all in front of a mirror so Harry can worship, too.)

Mon Petit by coffinofachimera

Harry wears the 'Mon Petit' sweater while Louis records them on their private 

falling for you, i can't keep away by hegotthedagger plane

Harry wants Louis really bad and Louis might want him just as much.

Always In My Heart by sweaterpawstyles

The tweet itself was not startling at all. Harry saw people retweet it nearly every day for years now. It always made him smile to see how many people had retweeting Louis showing his love for Harry on that day.

What was startling was underneath where the fan had retweeted it, Harry saw the small number 1M written on it.

Harry froze, completely unable to move anything in his body. He knew Louis had the second most retweeted tweet of all time, but it reached a million retweets. One million people believed in Louis' love for Harry. Or AIMH hits 1 million & facetime sex ensues

You and Me by louisgrindsonharry

Harry and Louis have dabbled in the idea of BDSM but Harry finally wants to take it farther and Louis has to figure out how to take care of his boy.

they shake, you conquer (and I'm left to their devices) by butidontreallycare

smut. a little love for Harry's thighs, but mostly just smut. I am not ashamed

Daddy Came Home by RuinedBy5Guys

“You got yourself off.” He says quietly, his eyes locked on Harry’s. Harry’s face flushes and he tries to cover it, shoving himself towards Louis. He drops to his knees, leaning close between his husbands spread thighs. He puts his hands on his dress pants, carefully feeling the material at his knees.

“How did you know?” He asks quietly. Louis drops his face, grabbing over Harry’s hands with his own. Harry lowers his gaze, staring at the carpet underneath him.

“You were asleep. You always get tired after an orgasm. Not to mention how flushed you are.” He says quietly, raking his eyes over Harry’s body. Harry glances up at him, his actions becoming more clear to him now that Louis was home.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, dropping his eyes again.

“What was that?” Louis snaps, reaching to bring Harry’s face up again. Harry gulps, shuffling closer on his knees, the joints aching already.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” Harry says, his green eyes locked on Louis’ blue ones. Louis smiles slightly, stroking his fingers over his husbands cheeks softly.

“Just gonna have to spank you now, aren’t I?”

OR... Harry teases and Daddy punishes him in the best ways possible

take me into your loving arms by blankiehxrry

twas the night of the brit awards

I Wanna Do What Bunnies Do With You by MoreThanTonight

“Lou.. Not here?” Harry pulled off with a gasp. “There are people in the next room. What if they hear us?“

“Then I guess you’ll just have to be quiet, won’t you, love?” Louis winked.

It's Harry's birthday and Louis wants to make it a birthday he won't forget. Louis is an art student, Harry is his boyfriend and muse.

if they find out, will it all go wrong? by blankiehxrry

madison square garden shenanigans

Happy Birthday by sleepingalone

“You wanna use that right now?” he asked incredulously, wondering how horny Louis must be. They had just fucked a few hours ago, before falling asleep. Surely he didn’t want to use it already.

“You said we had to wait till my birthday, and it’s my birthday,” Louis said cheekily, throwing Harry a small grin. Harry groaned into the pillow, burying his head in it.

“But I’m tired, Lou. I need my beauty rest.”

“I already undid the packaging,” Louis whined. “Please, can we just do it real quick? It would really make my day. My birthday,” he added. “You can go to sleep afterwards, Sleeping Beauty.”

or

Louis just really wants to use his new vibrating butt plug on Harry and turn him into a broken mess.

I Knew Right From the Beginning That You Would End Up Winning by aalexandravictoriaa

"I remember the first day I met you," Louis says, using his thumbs to make Harry open up to him even more. "I remember wanting to take you right there on the fucking street. I wanted to bend you over and bury myself in you over and over again. I couldn't then, but I'm going to now, baby. First with my tongue, then with my cock."

OR

Harry is Louis' favorite camboy and Louis becomes his Daddy.

In Motion by FictitiousFanatisch (orphan_account)

They'd only talked about it once a few weeks ago. Harry always liked it when Louis was in control and he said there was something about being denied constantly that made him even more turned on.

or

It's a lazy day and Harry wants Louis to edge him. (That's literally it.)

I'm Gonna Love You (Until You Hate me) by sweaterpawstyles

As if reading his mind, Louis glanced over his glasses at Harry, presumably because Harry didn't reply to his statement earlier.

"I decided to get my glasses out again," he chuckled, winking at Harry. "Do you like them?"

Harry felt his face heat up. No, he didn't just like them. He fucking loved them and wanted to ride Louis and call him daddy while he wore them. But he didn't want to just tell Louis this.

Or

Louis wears glasses and Harry doesn't like to be teased

I have often prayed for an angel by orphan_account

“Daddy,” he whines, voice already growing high in pitch. “Can I? Please?” “Of course angel,” Louis whispers fondly, hand tangling in Harry’s hair as he brushes it back. He loves Harry’s long strands, maybe even more than Harry does himself. “You look so beautiful on your knees like that, so eager to suck my cock.” “Mhm,” Harry hums, already licking at Louis’ slit. He begins to suckle softly at the head, peering up at Louis with wide eyes. The angel wings stretch on either side of him, and it’s so obscene, how filthy the act they’re doing is in contrast to the white feathers adorning Harry’s back. “Love your cock Daddy.” Or, the one in which Louis fucks Harry in the VS wings after he wears them onstage.

down and dirty, you're loving me so loud by orphan_account

Harry's finally twenty and there's a few things he wants.

feels so good getting what i want. by stylescantstop

Harry is a slutty yoga teacher with his sights set on Louis and Louis wants to pull that long hair of his while he fucks him really hard from behind.

Empyrean, You Fool by becauseitrhymes

Louis only realized it was actually happening once the reality of getting to carry boxes to his new flat settled in. He’d moved out of his parent’s just two days prior, with a stomach full of butterflies and no knowledge of how to do anything remotely adult, like, at all.

He’s only twenty-three years old, too, and he thinks he’s done pretty well for such a young age, considering he’s bought a flat with his money and had driven his car to get there and hadn’t cried (much) when leaving his parents. All in all, Louis thinks it’s pretty cool.

And then he’s sitting on his couch watching football in his lounge in his flat and hell yeah, it’s pretty cool.

AU where Louis moves next door to Harry, Louis falls in love with Harry, sex ensues.

Love Me Like You Do by sweaterpawstyles

Of all of the things Louis had imagined, never did he expect to become a chief editor for a magazine and to date the world-famous model Harry Styles. But he certainly never imagined one day that he would be anxiously awaiting a phone call from the top floor of an office building to tell the Harry Styles to get himself dolled up and ready to wait for his Daddy to come home before he got fucked into the mattress.

Or

Harry is a famous model and Louis is a quiet writer who may or may not be his Dom

A Hard Day's Work by louisruinedlife (orphan_account)

A bad day at work for Harry usually means turning in early. A bad day at work for Louis leads to something else entirely.

*Can be read as a stand alone.

the big idea by orphan_account

University students Harry and Zayn are filming a prank for YouTube that requires Harry to walk around campus asking random men if he could suck their dick. One of the guys, Louis, who agrees to such offer is too attractive for Harry to pass down.

He doesn't think its much of a prank anymore after that.

throw me in the deep end, watch me drown by orphan_account

“That's why you were late, eh?” he teases as Harry frantically tries to hide the dildos and the collar in the drawer. “Having too much fun to think about good ole Louis?”

“You were having fun too,” Harry replies weakly. Louis honestly has never seen a person be in such a shade of red.

“Yeah, but my fun didn't involve colourful dildos and nipple clamps.”

or the one where louis really needs to pass his a-levels and harry is his tutor who doesn’t really own a dog.

Give It To Me (I'm Worth It) by sweaterpawstyles

"Who the hell puts lube packets in their sock?"

"A boy who wanted to get fucked in the locker room by his daddy," Harry said innocently. "I have my good intentions, Lou."

or

Louis can't resist Harry in the red shorts that he wore during the James Corden skit. Featuring locker room sex.

don't let nobody touch it (unless that somebody's me) by stylescantstop

written for this prompt:

"louis knows Harry gets handsy when he's drunk, but that doesn't stop him from showing harry who he belongs to."

or the one where harry dances with other men and a jealous louis reminds him he's the only one who can make him come completely apart.

causing trouble up in hotel rooms (baby, I'm perfect) by felixandtae

A fan threw a Green Bay Packers crop top on stage and Harry kept it. We all know what happened after that.

sweet like cinnamon by brainwaves for SuburbanWarrior

It all started with bumping into Louis at Gemma’s mate’s wedding. Well, maybe it really started with Harry making heart eyes at the boy in jersey number 17 all those years ago. Now all he can think about is getting into Louis’ pants and maybe staying there for a really, really long time.

Or the one where Harry calls Louis daddy and it all spirals out of control from there.

Fulfilling Your Needs by unmeshed

“You want to be messy, baby? Filled with Daddy’s come? So much that you can barely hold it all in?"

Harry nods softly and Louis leans in to kiss him on the lips with a smile. “Want Daddy to plug you up after? Keep it inside of you all day?"

“Lou,” Harry whines, softly rubbing himself against his boyfriend, biting down on Louis’ bottom lip before he deepens the kiss, sneaking his tongue inside.

Louis’ll be damned if he can’t make Harry’s dreams come true.

or

Louis buys Harry an ejaculating dildo because Harry wants to feel full.

Like a Kitten by peaceloveandlarry

"Erm, I, uh, well, I think... I think you're really pretty, and I, um, I want to fuck you- I mean! Oh god. I- I want to go out? Yea! I want to go out."

Or Harry likes to wear kitten ears, and Louis happens to think Harry looks nice with them.

into another serotonin overflow by mercutionotromeo

Harry's the yearbook photographer who's been assigned to take pictures of Louis, the new captain of the football team. Harry's got a massive, obvious crush on Louis and somehow, Louis feels the same way.

Sweet first time sex wherein Harry's adorably awkward, Louis is achingly cool, and Harry rides Louis wearing his jersey.

need a little sweetness in my life by mercutionotromeo

Harry's always liked feeling desperate and small when Louis touches him, but when he sucks Harry off...it’s fucking otherworldly. Desperate’s not really the word at that point - it’s helpless. Like… like the fucking world could stop spinning and Harry wouldn’t be able to do anything about it until Louis finished him off with his lips and his tongue.

Or, Harry and Louis go to university together. Harry really likes it when Louis sucks him off, and Louis really likes it when Harry calls him Daddy.

(Sequel to "into another serotonin overflow")

Cheeky Princess by Noelle1224

Harry and panties. What more is there to explain?

I'm Tired Of Using Technology, I Need You Right In Front Of Me by Phillipa19

Louis goes away on yet another business trip, but when he stops calling Harry to check in, Harry decides to take matters into his own hands.

OR- Louis is Harry's sugardaddy who has gone away on business and Harry feels neglected. Louis is possessive and gets a camera installed in their bedroom so he can check up on Harry, so Harry decides to use the camera to his advantage.

Got A Lot You Wanna Show Off Baby by Phillipa19

Louis had been in meetings all day, he should have known that Harry wouldn't be ignored for much longer.

-OR-

Louis is Harry's sugardaddy and his younger boyfriend is definitely not happy being ignored whilst Louis holds meetings in his home office. There may also be Harry in lacy knickers involved.

As always please make sure to stay safe and read the tags!! ❤ ❤

[whew-oh-em-gee]

The green-eyed monster

Warnings: the green eyed monster, of course! Implied smut and a couple of swear words. Oh! And me attempting to put in song references.

Jake Gyllenhaal x Fem!reader

I hope you enjoy it!

Jealousy, also referred to by many as the green-eyed monster, is the act of feeling or showing a resentful suspicion that one's partner is attracted to or involved with someone else.

You had never really been the jealous type. Never. However, something about this situation was very different. Could it be because this was not an event you were familiar with? Could it be because the lady affectionately laughing while placing her hand on your boyfriend’s chest, was capable of buying most of your possessions, if not all of them, with half of her paycheck? Or could it be because your insecurities about how you looked, despite being told you looked gorgeous by your boyfriend, suddenly decided to make themselves known?

Whatever the reason was, you were jealous. And that was that.

Now the question is, how did you get here in the first place?

4 hours ago

“Don’t fret. You look gorgeous, honey! “ you boyfriend exclaimed, finally exhausted by the number of questions you asked about how you looked, while you were having a mini freak out in front of the full body length mirror in your shared bedroom. Jake genuinely thought you looked amazing in anything you wore and it irks him whenever you don’t acknowledge that as well.

Noticing the hint of expiration in his tone, you apologized.

“I’m sorry. I just...” you paused, sighing, as you tried to find the right words. “I just don’t want to let you down. There are going to be a lot of extremely beautiful women there and I don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb. Especially since this is going to be the first event we’re going to together.”

With a light chuckle, Jake pressed his lips to your forehead.

“You worry too much. You look wonderful and I don’t care about all the other women because you are the only beautiful woman I’ll see.” He said, cupping your face his big hands and stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

You smiled and tried your best not to cry because of how sweet Jake was being. You weren’t ready to mess up your make up because it was time consuming and quite expensive.

“I love you.” You finally uttered after a moment of silence, consisting of you two staring into each other’s eyes.

“I love you too, baby. Now come on. We’re gonna be late.” Jake murmured before taking your hand and tugging you out of the room and out of your shared apartment towards the rented car that was waiting for you outside.

Half an hour later, you both found yourself in the midst of many well-known actors, directors and producers. Jake pulled you along as he greeted the people he recognized and introduced you to them, if they hadn’t met you already.

“Hubby!” you heard a familiar voice call out, over the loud party music that was playing. You knew that voice quite well. Maybe too well.

Tom Holland that proud owner of the voice, accompanied by Zendaya, made his way to you and Jake.

“Well, well, well isn’t it my prodigal husband.” Jake joked as he embraced to in a side hug. Meanwhile you and Zendaya, who has become close friends the moment you met each other some time ago, smothered each other with kisses as you giggled in unison.

The four of you spent the next hour cracking jokes, while catching up with each other’s lives. That was until you were interrupted

“Jacob,” a feminine voice purred “I haven’t seen you in forever!”

All the attention moved to where the voice came from.

“Joey! Hi! It has been a while.” Jake responded, hugging her.

Zendaya looked at you with a raised eyebrow as ‘Jo’, as Jake affectionately called her started conversing with him.

You shrugged in response, answering her silent question. You had no idea who this newcomer was.

“Oh how could I forget?! Tom, Z, Y/N, this is Jolene, an old friend.” Jake introduced.

Jolene? How fitting. You suddenly felt Dolly Parton’s pain when she sang her song with the same title as this lady’s name.

Jolene giggled. “Old friend? Is that what you call all your exes now?”

“You knew what I meant, Jo.” Jake rolled his eyes playfully.

She let out more giggles.

You opened your mouth to say ‘hi’ but you were interrupted by Jolene talking again.

“Oh my god, Jacob! You absolutely have to meet someone.” She pulled Jake away from your group and towards whoever she wanted him to meet.

You blinked rapidly, trying to process what just happened.

“That was…interesting.” Tom deadpanned, earning an elbow to the ribs from Z. “Hey!” he protested rubbing the spot he was hit.

You raised your head, looking up at the ceiling. “Y/N, what are you doing?” Z asked in confusion.

“I wanna cry but my foundation cost me thirty-five dollars.” You muttered, trying to blink away the tears that were forming.

Not today, Satan, not today.

Tom’s snort quickly morphed into another exclamation of pain when he got elbowed at the same spot again by the same person.

“Aww hun, you don’t need to cry. It���s not worth it?” Z asked rubbing your back soothingly.

“His ex does seem kinda bossy, to be honest.”

Z gasped, “Thomas Stanley Holland, the next time you do something that will make the situation worse, I. Will. End. You.”

“It’s alright, Z” you sighed, as you fished through your purse to find anything to help you with keeping the tears as bay, “He’s right.”

“I think I’m going to talk to him.” Tom said, leaving before any of you could react.

Z turned to you “Y/N-“

“No, no.” you butted in “It’s okay! I’m okay! I’m just going to head home.”

Oh boy, were you lying.

Who were you kidding? She was beautiful! All Jake’s exes probably were the same. What did he see in you anyway? Why did you decide to come here at all? Ugh! Jolene, please don’t take my man.

Finally, bringing your head down to its original position, you dubbed your eyes gently and put your brave face on and made your way to the exit.

You were not going to cry here. You were not going to cry here. You were not going to cry-

“Y/N!” You heard you boyfriend’s voice shout from afar.

You stood still, taking a deep breath.

You can do this Y/N. Elsa was able to do it. Don’t forget. Conceal, don’t feel. Don’t let him know.

“Y/N.” you heard him again, only closer this time.

You opened your eyes and there he stood, right in front of you, in all his handsome glory.

“Where are you going, love?” Jake asked with a slight tilt of his head.

“You seemed very much occupied with that Jolene of yours so I decided to head home.”

Jake raised an eyebrow.

And now he knows. Fuck.

“Really? That sounds like-“

“Yes, Jacob. I am jealous because she’s extremely pretty and you are probably still attracted to her.”

Let it goooo, let it goooo. Can’t hold it back anymore. Damn, you feel so much like Elsa right now. Why on earth were you thinking about Frozen anyway?!

“Babe!” he laughed, stunned at your revelation. “What did I tell you before we left the apartment?”

You sighed.

“I know it’s just… I don’t feel like I’m enough for you sometimes and coming here just makes me feel like I’m not enough for you all the time.”

Jake shook his head, sighing, and pulled out his phone without a word.

“What are you doing?” you asked, curious.

“I’m getting us an Uber.”

“Why?”

“It looks like someone has to have all her insecurities fucked out of her.”

You blanched and looked around.

“Jacob!” you whisper-yelled between clenched teeth looking around to check if anyone had heard what he said.

He placed a hand on each of your shoulders. “I love you so, so, so much. Please don’t let anyone including yourself make you think otherwise. You won my heart fair and square and you own it, baby. Besides, Jolene is married anyway. ”

“What?! Really?”

“Yeah. “He chuckled.

“She took me to meet her wife. Honestly, it was quite boring. I felt like I was third wheeling. I’m glad Tom saved me.”

“I’m sorry.” You pouted.

“It’s alright, babe.” He said offering his hand which you took “Come on, let’s get of here.”

 ……………………………………………………………………………………………

Bonus

“So…your inner green-monster came out, huh.” Your boyfriend whispered as you two cuddled in bed, in your pajamas.

“Jacob, it is 2 am .Why are you thinking about THAT at 2 am?”

    Author’s note: I really don't know what to feel about this. I loved writing it, though! I would love to hear from you! What do you think about it?

[elidelochans]

19 for the prompts :)

A treat this time

Prompt: 19 “You want to go trick or treating?” "Seriously?”

Pairing: Nessian

a/n: Sorry it took a while! my writer’s block has been really bad lately. Enjoy!

Today was Halloween. Her favorite holiday. Not only for the fact she loved the costumes, dressing up, the weather and films, but because it was the night she had met Cassian. If it wasn't for a party six years ago she might not have met him.

However, this year, Nesta Bellator nee Archeron found she wasn't particularly in the spirit of spooky. Not when she looked like an overgrown pumpkin, with her bump jutting out of the shirt. From Braxton-hicks, aches in her lower back, not to mention the swelling in her feet, she was over this pregnancy. At this stage, Nesta's fairly certain her feet were to be permanently stuck that way.

This time around she and her husband of almost three years decided to stay in. Opting for appropriately themed films and eating take-out from her favorite Italian restaurant. The one that made the breadsticks so perfect, the bread seemed to melt in your mouth. A mere thought of them made her mouth dry. She would savor every bite while Cassian rubbed her pudgy toes. Tell her she's beautiful, though in this state, she felt far from it. Half of her clothes didn't fit. Even her maternity clothing seemed to be a struggle. Hell, everything was nowadays. Being ten long days past your due date would do the trick. 

Nesta heard the sound of jostling keys in the door. Prompting her to slide the bowl of half-eaten candy under the Cherrywood coffee table. Candy that was supposed to be for the neighborhood kids. She should feel guilty for eating most of it. In her state, Nesta found she could care less. They weren't miserable and exhausted beyond measure like her. Besides, the kids in their neighborhood didn't need all the sugar. Not like she did.

Hearing the creak from the front door and the click as it shut. A faint sound of heavy footfall from her husband's boots echoed from the hall. The sound becoming louder with each step inching towards her. Nesta stood with a groan from the grey sofa. Settling a hand on the swell of her back. Walking, no waddling, like a godsdamned penguin to greet her husband and the food she was dying to devour. Tonight her pain seemed to worsen.

Most likely from lazily hanging on the couch most of the day. She moved as quickly as her nesting body would carry her to the dining table. The square mahogany table adorned with orange, red, and brown on the runner, matching the leaves littering their yard outside. Nesta winced as she smiled at her hero, walking towards her. With bags of food from Nuala and Cerridwen's restaurant, La Bellezza di Cibo. He dropped the bags and rushed to her side. Nesta hitched a breath as the bags hit the floor with a thud. If her food were a mess, he'd deal with her, her... Nesta clutched the back of a ebony chair. 

"Nes?" he questioned with worry displayed on his ruggedly handsome features, a hand placed gingerly over her shoulder before resting on the swell of her belly, "Sweetheart, are you okay?"

Her knuckles bloomed white from her tightened grip on the rounded back of a dining chair, "fine." Nesta gritted out, glancing between concerned hazel eyes and her food abandoned on the floor.

 Once the tremor subsided, Nesta stood upright. Hands resting over Cassian's warm ones, "Fine," she replied again. Feeling the light kicks and punches from within. By the awe touched grin on her husband's lips, he felt it too, "Just Braxton hicks. As you can tell, he's content in there.

"Nes…" Cassian's thumbs rubbed along her belly, "I think you should call the doctor."

"I think," she huffed out, " you should pick up the food, feed your hungry, very pregnant wife, and rub her grapefruit-sized feet." Nesta realized a moment too late that the words were coming out harsher than intended.

By the way his posture tightened, and his jaw clenched, she knew he was fighting against what he truly wanted to say. That she wasn't in this alone, he should have a say too, and if he's concerned to humor him and call the damned doctor. They had called a few times, and tonight she wasn't doing it. She wasn't going into the hospital yet again only to hear they are Braxton-hicks and have those nurses look at her with slight annoyance—the kind she gave her customers daily. Cassian offered a tight smile, kissing her brow in a silent expression of okay. 

She watched his shoulders slump as he picked up the bags walking to the sofa. Her heart constricted as her gaze continued to follow him setting up dinner on the coffee table. He was trying in the only way he could. 

Cassian didn't know the inside of her body as she did. His only tells of possible labor were her movements and time. He sighed, pulling out her favorite drink, iced green tea, no sugar. Silently she moved towards the couch. Her husband now putting on Practical Magic, one of her favorites. He preferred the gory films. lately Nesta couldn't stomach watching those.

If she weren't pregnant and past due, Cassian being upset for a few minutes would be nothing. Nesta would have rolled her wines and left him be for thirty minutes, an hour, sometimes all night before talking. Now, she couldn't stand it. Bracing herself on the back of the charcoal sofa, Nesta shook away the dull pain in her spine. 

"Hang on," Cassian grabbed the couch pillows settling them against the back of her seat, "okay, now sit."

She did leaning into the pillows as best as she could. Laying a hand on her belly, the other on his thigh. "I'm sorry, Cas. I'm just.. I'm so tired all the time, I'm gigantic and in pain. Calling the doctor and going to the hospital just to be turned away, I can't do it. It's annoying and disheartening. If one of those nurses look at me like that again I will stab them in the eye with a syringe." Those last words she promised as a threat. A sigh escaped Nesta, laying her head against his shoulder, "and I just want to meet him."

 Cassian squeezed her hand, reaching for a breadstick with the opposite. Nesta took it, biting into the bread, still soft and warm. She could feel the sting of tears behind her eyes while she chewed. Cauldron this gods damned pregnancy has ruined her non-crying streak a hundred times over.

"I know. Trust me; I'm ready too. It seems like he has both of our stubbornness," he took her in his arms, running fingers through her hair. Nesta wiped her tears with the back of a hand, "You don't have to apologize, Nes. Yeah, I got annoyed for a minute. I don't know what's happening. I walked in, and you're bent over in pain. I had no idea if this had been going on all day or not. He pulled away, taking her feet in his lap. Gingerly rubbing the expanse from toes to ankles with the hardened padding of his thumbs. Nesta hummed her approval.

"I know."

"And you're not gigantic. I mean you-"

"Don't finish that sentence!" she snapped, cutting him a dry look.

He laughed, grinning like an idiot in the way it made her heart flutter, "You're carrying our child, and you look gorgeous doing it. Better?"

"Yes. But you're at morning foot rubs now and speaking of mornings. Tomorrow you're making me crepes."

"deal."

They fell into a blissful rhythm of silence watching the movie. At some point, Cassian handed her the tea. She didn't eat the chicken parm or touch the Tiramisu Nesta claimed to have been craving for weeks. However, he wasn't sure about that. Cassian, the dutiful husband he is, knew every craving and memorized everything she wants and needs. Learning the lesson from Rhys, who was kicked out for a night for getting the wrong the sauce. Feyre's wrath was nothing compared to Nesta's. Paying careful attention to all her tells he knew she's hurting tonight more than usual, which gave him an idea. It was stupid he knew, but if it worked...

"Nes, wanna go trick or treating?"

Turning, she looked at him incredulously. He chuckled at her mouth fully agape, a bit of breadstick tumbling down her black shirt.

"Cassian, you're thirty-one years old, and you want to go trick or treating?" a nod, "seriously?" a second nod, Nesta sat a little straighter, "Let me get this straight, you want to take your nine and then some months pregnant wife trick or treating?"

"Yes, sweetheart. That's exactly what I'm suggesting. We can paint your stomach like a pumpkin with body paint. The doctor said walking helps a chance of labor, free candy, and I'll throw in a rub as soon we get back. I'll even hold your breadsticks and tea."

Before she had a chance to consider, Nesta felt a rush of liquid flow from her. Like someone, some little one popped a balloon filled with water. Nesta stilled for a moment. Time slowed as her stormy grey eyes moved down to her belly. She could feel her cotton leggings thoroughly soaked. Her jaw fell, and her heart pounded loudly. To the point that Nesta knew Cassian was speaking, yet couldn't hear his words. There were only dull noises and a wet feeling underneath her. This was happening. There was no trickery tonight—no falsified contractions. 

Cassian knelt in front of her. Face twisted in worry, he quickly transferred to a half-smile, realizing Nesta was smiling from ear to ear.

"Sweetheart?" 

Meeting his gaze of amber and green flecked eyes, Nesta finally broke, "We can't trick or treat. Cassian, my water broke."

Tag list: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @hizqueen4life @clockworkgraystairs @b00kworm @negativenesta @sjm-things @whataboutmyfries @justgiu12 @illyrian-bookworm @thesirenwashere @ireallyshouldsleeprn @forbiddencorvidae @vanessa172003 @thewickedkings @sleeping-and-books @thefolkofthefic @yafandomsdotnet @aknymph @alittledribbledrabble @iminsanenotobsessed @figuredihadanodustollensofalife @df3ndyr @awkward-avocado-s @maastrash @knifewifejude @st00pid231 @elide-lochan-salvaterre @gisellefigue08 @se-ono-waise-ilia @strangeenemy @The-girl-who-reads-to-much @piratejudedemdji @junipersuns @ladywitchling @superspiritfestival @kendarbahr @shadowhuntersshadow-world @pcarnatio @wanderingjpg @whimsyrhys @bookishwitchling @sayosdreams @theoceanfaewriter @acourtofbookworms

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Place Like This 3

Warnings: this short series includes dark elements including noncon, violence, mentions of mental illness, mentions of contraception, and other explicit content. I’m not your mother, curate your own consumption.

This is dark!Lumberjack!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve gone too far to back out now.

Note: Okay, writing this, I thought hey, I can keep it to three parts... and this could be an ending but if you guys want one more part, I’ll do an official finale.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You finally broke the surface, floating and bobbing on your back. You were dizzy, your head pounded and your lungs burned. Your body felt heavy and you couldn’t help but shiver as a fire crackled nearby. 

You opened your eyes. Your mother sat with your head in her lap, you were wrapped in a thick duvet before the fireplace, and she pressed her warm palms to your cheeks.

“She’s awake,” She said. “Girl, you really scared us.”

A shadow neared and you flinched as Andy knelt beside you. You let out a weak moan but could only wriggle in the duvet. You coughed and shook your head.

“Get him away!” You rasped. “Ma!”

“Shhhh,” She traced along your cheekbone. “It’s okay. It’s just Andy.” She looked up. “She must be delirious.”

“She’s lucky I got to her when I did.” He replied and reached to touch your forehead. Your teeth chattered. You felt the cold deep in your bones. “But she’s still cold. If it’s hypothermia, we gotta keep her warm, at least until morning.”

“Yes, of course,” Your mother rocked your shoulders. “Oh, thank you, Andy. You saved her. I can’t-- If you hadn’t been there.”

Andy sighed and waved away her words. He stood and crossed to the fire. He fed it another long and looked to the old grandfather clock in the corner.

“It’s past midnight. You should sleep. She’ll be fine.” Andy said. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Nonsense, I’m her mother. I should be here--”

“You been trying not to drift off for the last hour. You’ll do her no good if you’re exhausted,” He said. “I’ll take over. Don’t worry.”

“You’re too good a man, Andy Barber.” Your mother smiled and tutted. She caressed your cheek again and Andy handed her a cushion to place under your head as she moved from beneath you. “Well, I suppose there had to be at least one in this godforsaken world.”

He took your mother’s hand and helped her stand as she groaned at her aching knees.

“Go. Sleep. When you wake up, she’ll be better.” He assured her. “Alright?”

“Okay,” She nodded and squeezed his hand. “Thank you… have a good night.”

“You too,” He bid. “Go on.”

“Night, dear,” Your mother called to you. She hadn’t called you anything but ‘girl’ since you were a child. You clung to the duvet and your arms brushed against your bare torso.

“Good night,” You croaked as you remained paralysed before the dancing flames. 

You wanted to beg her to stay but Andy turned and glared. A silent warning. Your mother turned and went up the stairs. You watched her helplessly and sucked in a breath as you listened to her footsteps and then she open and shut of her bedroom door above.

You sat up. The effort made you light headed and you hunched over as you moaned. Andy was beside you in a moment. He urged you back down with a hand on your shoulder. His hair was messy around his head and he wore a different shirt than earlier that day. 

He must have dived in after you, but why?

You hugged yourself and shivered again. “I’m naked.” You said.

“We had to get your clothes off so you didn’t freeze,” He sat back as his eyes searched your face. “You almost drowned. I barely got you back before the storm began.”

“You tried to kill me.”

“You wandered onto a frozen river. That’s hardly my fault.” He said tersely. “And I was nice enough to drag you out.”

“All I did was follow you,” You grumbled. “Then you… you attacked me.”

He scoffed and his jaw squared beneath his thick beard. His eyes glowed in the fire light and he reached into his shirt pocket. He pulled out the pack of cigarettes and opened it up. He slid one out and placed it between his lips. 

He fished around for a sleeve of matches hidden in his pocket and sparked one off the strip. He lit the smoke, the wisps blowing out from the corners of his mouth as he dug deeper in the pack. He pulled out the photo. He unfolded it and looked at it, holding it against the carton with his thumb as he pulled the cigarette away from his lips with his other hand.

“Two smokes to the left, five to the right, the corner of the photo bent just enough to keep it in place.” He mulled. “You’re a shit detective. I know, I used to work with them.”

You looked down guiltily. He took another puff and grimaced.

“Not much of a smoker but sometimes when I’m thinking too much I have one.” He blew away the smoke and stretched his arm over you to flick the cigarette into the fireplace. “My wife and son. They’re dead now. Whether I talk about it or not, but I prefer the latter.”

He put the photo back in the pack and reached behind him to place it on the low coffee table. He turned back to you and poked his tongue out between his lips.

“So, what is it you thought? That I killed them?” He scowled. “I didn’t, not in reality, but maybe it was my neglect, my denial that killed them. But it wasn’t me.”

You stared at him. You tried to sit up again but he quickly caught your shoulder and held you down.

“I came here so I didn’t have to talk about it or think about it. I came here to get away because everywhere I went I saw husbands, wives, children; families, all happy, all alive. And it made me so… angry.” His nostrils flared as his grip tightened on your shoulder. “Then I meet you. Your mother. You two can barely stand each other. Perfect. Nothing to envy, just as miserable as me.”

You pushed your arm above the blanket and grasped his wrist. You tried once more to sit up and shove away his hand. He quickly twisted his arm away and his fingers stretched across your throat.

“Doesn’t kill the loneliness. In fact, it makes it worse.” He sneered. “Doesn’t it?”

You squinted at him as you latched onto his wrist. He didn’t squeeze but held you firm enough to keep you down.

“I heard you. In the shower. I was curious how you coped with being alone all the way up here.” He smirked. “I can’t say it didn’t inspire me.”

“Let go--”

His fingers tightened and strangled your voice from you. He got to his knees and his other hand gripped the top of the duvet. He tore it away and bared your naked body. The heat of the fire washed over your skin as you tried to hide yourself. He was quick to straddle you as he kept his hand on your neck.

“Get off--” You dug your nails into his cuff.

“Shhh,” He bent until his nose was almost touching yours. “You don’t wanna wake your mom. Trust me. She’s sick already.” His lips curled. “You wouldn’t want her to get hurt because of you.”

“You wouldn--”

“She’s a cranky old wart.” He snapped. “But you…” His other hand tickled your side. “You’re her daughter, you love her, you want to keep her safe.” He backed up and his thumb ran along your hip and his fingers curled around your flesh. “You would do anything for her, wouldn’t you?”

You gaped at him and your lip quivered. You swallowed and nodded as he loosened his hold on your neck. He let out a small chuckle and slid his hand down to cup your chest. His eyes followed as he played with your nipple.

“You know, I heard the best way to warm someone up is skin to skin contact.” He moved further back and dragged his nose along your throat and chest. He nuzzled your nipple and flicked it with his thumb. “And no doubt that adrenaline I feel pumping through you will help.”

“Please…” You whispered. “I won’t tell--I won’t say anything.”

“Shut up,” He lifted his head and grabbed your chin. He squeezed so hard your jaw felt as if it would break. “I don’t want to hear you.”

You shuddered as he looked up at you. His other hand moved below him as he drew his knee back and forced it between your legs. He pushed his fingers against your cunt and you kicked your legs around him. He caught your thigh and pinched.

“You’re a stubborn bitch.” He growled and fell onto you. He rolled over and took you with him. Your teeth chatter as you were exposed entirely to the room. “Stop thinking about yourself and start thinking about her.”

You pushed yourself up and stared him in the face. You blinked in horror.

“You do what I say and she’s safe. That’s it.” He shoved you up so you straddled him. “This little living arrangement won’t be so bad with some compromise.” You nodded as he grabbed your wrists and held your hands to his chest. “Listen. Carefully. Think about that river and how much worse I could do to an old lady.”

You winced and he slowly slid your hands over his shirt.

“I want your mouth.” He sneered. “I’m sure you can figure out what I want you to do with it.”

“Andy--”

“Not another word,” He shoved your hand lower so it was nearly between your legs. “These things happen. The fire gets out of control, help is too far away; a pity you were both trapped inside.”

You recoiled and tore your wrist from his grasp. Panicked your hands shook as you fell back and barely caught yourself. Slowly, reluctantly, you righted yourself as he watched you. He folded one arm behind his head and then the other and smirked. 

You closed your eyes and shuttered as you rested your palms against the front of his jeans; the twitch there added to his words. He sighed as you flicked the button of his fly loose and opened your eyes. Your hands shook as you pushed the zipper down and your hot breath puffed from your nose in frantic gasps.

Your eyes were glossy. Don’t cry, you told yourself as you gripped his jeans and he lifted his hips with a low chuckle. He was amused. His briefs were slid down next and the elastic caught on his arousal. Your fingers brushed his tip as you unhooked them and rolled them down. 

Your fingers twiddled in the air as you looked down as his cock. Then you glanced at yourself, your nakedness, and quaked. You couldn’t decide if you were more cold or afraid. Both, you thought.

“Do you need detailed instructions?” He taunted.

Your eyes snapped up and you scowled at him. You gripped his cock without look and moved back on your knees as you bent. You opened your mouth and he reached down to grasp your chin again.

“Keep those teeth to yourself.” He warned and let you go.

You lowered your gaze, your tongue was sour and your stomach churned. You poked your tongue out and swirled it lightly around the head of his cock. He groaned and you pressed your lips to his tip. You felt as if it was all happening in half-speed but you had to go on. 

You slid your mouth around him and his hand stretched across the back of your head before you could pull away. He pushed you down until he was at your throat. You grunted and he forced himself deeper. You extended your neck and choked as you took all of him, unable to breathe as your head pulsed even harder.

“Like that,” He let up and you slid back only to have him force you back down again. “Yeah that’s it.” He carried the motion, the sloppy noises of your mouth and throat filled your ears. “Take it. All of it.”

He was urgent, relentless as he bobbed your mouth down his length. His hand slipped as his other pressed to your head and he clutched you tightly. He moved his hips from below as your fingers curled into his hips. You were dizzy and dazed as you eyes rolled back and your chest felt as if it would burst.

He shoved you away all at once and you crumpled onto the floor beside him. You touched your throat and coughed, your entire body shook as Andy sat up, his hand at his cock.

“Fuck, you almost did it,” He snarled. “Fuck…” He hissed and took deeper breaths. “Fucking bitch.”

He slapped your thigh and you winced. He stood and pushed his pants all the way down. You sat up and touched your forehead as the room spun. He kicked the denim away from him, his socks and underwear caught in the folds. Another flutter of fabric and his hand was on your shoulder. 

He shoved you onto your back and bent over you. Your eyes struggled to focus on his as he glared down at you.

“I can’t decide…” He held your chin and pushed his thumb between your lips. “I like your tits… but the ass is nice too.”

You hit his wrist weakly and groaned. He snickered and pushed down on your tongue before he drew his hand away. He moved between your legs and bent them carefully. 

Your vision cleared, he was naked, his broad shoulders were limned in the fire light and you watched the thick muscles of his arms as they tensed beneath his skin. His chest was thick with the same colour hair as his beard and his raw power was corded in the muscles of his stomach.

He hugged your thighs and dragged you closer. His cock rested against your cunt and he slipped a hand between your bodies to guide it to your entrance. He poked you and slid it back up, he teased your fold as a low rumble rose from him. He stopped, once more as your entrance, and tilted his hips. 

You gasped as he pushed into you and slapped his hand on your thigh. He ignored you and got even deeper. He grabbed your other thigh and lifted your pelvis as he impaled you entirely.

You let out a wispy cry as he hung his head back and let out a long breath. He jerked his hips and you clawed at the rumpled duvet below. He moved your entire body as he began to thrust; short, sharp, mean jolts. The crackle of the fire was punctuated by the even, measured clap of flesh.

“That’s it,” He growled as he rutted into you. “You little bitch. Look at you. I can feel you, feel how much you need this; you want this.”

He bent over you and you tried to turn your face away from him. His hand framed your jaw and he held your head still. He kissed you roughly as he buried himself to his limit and drew away with a vicious nibble of your lip. He sat back on his knees and lifted you with him. 

His hand spread over one side of your ass and he began to rock you against him. His other arm hooked around your back and his fingers clung to your shoulder. He grunted as he slid you up and down his cock, your pelvis snug against him as the friction sent a wave of heat through you.

“You don’t get it. You don’t get-- how long-- I’ve waited-- I’ve been alone,” His bestial panting stuttered his words. “You don’t realise-- how much you hunger-- for human touch-- for anything-- until you’ve waited so long.”

Your arms were folded against his chest as your fingers curled into the muscles beside his neck. You whined as your core began to swell. You shook your head, ashamed of your building arousal. This man… you didn’t know this man or what he’d done. All you knew was that he could kill you and your mother. That he would if you made him.

“Fuck. Or maybe-- you were-- waiting for me,” He bent his head and nuzzled the crook of your neck as he continued to move you, his fingertips pressed deep in the flesh of your ass. “Huh? Did you think about it? Like I did? Waking up? Opening my door?” 

He snarled and sank his teeth into your throat, he bounced you faster against him. He left your flesh raw and sore as he removed his mouth and replaced it with his hand. He lifted his hand as he gripped your throat and lowered himself carefully onto his ass. He took you with him as he laid flat, still grasping your neck as he had you sitting atop him.

“Keep going.” He snapped. You kept your hips going as he squeezed and your head swam. “Did you? Think about crawling into my bed? Huh? Keep it quiet? Just a little human warmth for that frigid heart?”

“Andy--” You mewled as his other hand guided your hip. Your clit brushed his pelvis and you felt your surging orgasm. “And---”

“Shhh,” He dropped his hand from your neck and grabbed your other hip. He rocked you faster, holding you down so that the friction grew unbreakable. “That’s it. Give in.”

You covered your face as you came. Your thighs tensed around him as you let him move you and moaned into your hands. He chuckled and changed your motion. He bounced you atop him. You dropped arms and clung to his wrists. His eyes focused between your legs as he watched himself inside of you. He stuck his tongue out and snarled.

“Shit,” He swore and slammed you down over and over. “Get ready.”

He pushed his head back into the floor and every muscle in his body contracted. He groaned as he spilled into you and you quaked atop him. His warmth filled you and turned your stomach as he slowed you. He held you down, every inch of him inside of you, and panted as his nails dug into your hips.

He drew his hands back and rubbed his chest. His lips curved slightly and he patted his shoulder. 

“Here,” He said. “We need to keep you warm still.”

You raised yourself on your knees weakly. You swayed as you climbed off of him and fell down beside him. Your vision swirled and every ounce of strength drained from you. He rested your head on his arm and his hand lingered on you, threatening to crush your jaw. Then the tension left his grip and he stroked your cheek. You were startled by his gentleness.

“That’s what I want you to do.” He whispered as he rubbed your cheek with his thumb and his arm hugged you closed. “When it’s late, when you’re mother’s asleep, I want you to come to me. Keep me happy and I’ll keep you safe. Both of you.”

You gulped and blinked away your fearful tears. You shivered as another wave of cold crawled over you. He reached and bent your leg over him and he inhaled the scent of your scalp.

“Understood?” He said.

“Yes,” You breathed as you trembled against him. “I got it.”

Your hand slipped down as his cum leaked from you and cooled on your thighs. You sniffed as you rubbed your fingers through the mess. Your mind was hazy but you knew that wasn’t good. He sensed the movement and his hand found yours and he dragged his fingers through the slickness of your cunt.

“I came inside you,” He said as if only realising it. “Are you--”

“I’m not...” You murmured as you tore your hand away. “But I’ll go to--” You were blurry, you couldn’t focus. “I’ll go to town… tomorrow.”

“No, you’ll stay here,” He poked his fingers inside you and played with his cum. He hummed as if pleased with himself. “I’ll get it. I’ll take care of it.”

[unbridgeabledistances]

ok i have an inbox full of prompts, but i was making valentine’s day plans & all of a sudden felt very inspired to write some valentine’s day gallavich! featuring uncle mickey, homemade cards and a lot of domestic fluff- i’ll probs have a part two up sometime this week!<3

--

It was a lazy, slow-paced Sunday afternoon at the Gallagher house. Mickey had been lying on the couch passively watching trashy reality TV for god knows how long—and apparently at some point he’d fallen asleep, because now the TV volume was just a low hum, and he was being woken up to the startling crash of the kitchen back door slamming shut, and the rustling of shoes and coats being taken off and discarded by the front door.

“Alright Franny, let’s set this stuff up on the kitchen table.” Mickey heard Ian’s voice sail across the room, his eyes still closed to block out the cheery sunshine teeming in the living room.

Mickey tried to doze off again, attempting to block out the bright light infiltrating his eyelids, but it was no use— whatever Ian and Franny were doing, murmuring and clanging in the kitchen, there was no way for Mickey to escape the sound now and drift back into his sunwarmed sleep. He begrudgingly shoved the scratchy crocheted blanket off of his lap, stretching as he rose and stumbled into the kitchen.

He wasn’t expecting the carnage that he saw when he turned the corner; the kitchen table was covered in an explosion of sheets of multicolored construction paper, all reds and pinks and whites, with tiny multicolored stickers and tubes of glitter and shiny ribbons arranged and spread wide across the countertop, scattered with glue sticks and pairs of scissors and an exploded box of crayons. There was a small mountain of cut-out hearts piled high on the table, smattered with glitter-glue and blocky handwriting.

Mickey rubbed his eyes, taking in the scene. “What’re you two Picassos up to?” he asked drowsily.

Ian looked up, his eyes light. “Look who’s awake!” He gestured at the table emphatically, like it was Christmas morning. “Isn’t it great? Me and Franny grabbed all this stuff at the dollar store for less than ten bucks. The glue sticks definitely kind of suck, but I think it’ll get the job done.”

Mickeys eyes scanned to Franny, who was hard at work trying to cut a shape out of a piece of red construction paper, her brows furrowed in concentration. Ian kept chattering on as he unwrapped another sheath of the paper.

“Debbie left Franny with me since some rich lady called her with a weekend handywoman emergency that popped up at the last minute, so now I’m helping Franny make her valentines for school.”

Mickey scoffed. “Fucking valentines?”

Ian rolled his eyes as he contentedly started to glue together two pieces of paper. “Yes, Mickey, valentines. You know, those nice things that normal people give to each other on Valentine’s Day, along with a box of chocolates or some shit and a note about how much they love each other—”

“Yes, I know what they are, smartass. Don’t know why you didn’t just buy the little cardboard ones at the store though.”

Ian smirked, his eyes still focused on the paper beneath him that he was smudging glitter on. “Yeah, well. Franny wanted to make them, and I thought it’d be kind of fun.”

Just then Franny gasped triumphantly, raising a lopsided and crumpled paper heart up for Mickey to see. “Look, Uncle Mickey! I cut a heart! Uncle Ian showed me how!”

Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian, who had a sheepish look on his face. “Didn’t know you had so many hidden talents, Gallagher.”

Ian flashed a grin. “I used to be really into art class in elementary school, what can I say.”

Franny looked up at Mickey with wide eyes. “Do you want to make valentines with us? We have to make twenty-seven, because that’s the number of people in my class.”

Mickey faltered. Sitting here gluing fucking glitter to pieces of paper was not exactly what he’d had in mind as his plans for the weekend…

“Uh. That’s okay kiddo. I think you two’ve got it covered.”

Franny seemed to readily accept Mickey’s answer, instantly looking downward again and grabbing a fistful of crayons from the table to continue enhancing her masterpiece. Ian, on the other hand, tore his gaze from his own valentine.

“Oh c’mon Mick, you don’t wanna help?” Ian asked, his voice goading and his eyebrows raised.

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks but no thanks.” He turned, walking over to open the fridge and grabbing a beer from the top shelf.

“C’mon, just one valentine. Franny can show you how to cut out a heart shape, right Fran?”

Franny nodded vigorously. “Yes, I know how!”

Mickey took a swig of his beer and sighed. “Jesus, fine.” He pulled a chair between Ian and Franny, slowly scraping it on the linoleum, and then perched on the edge uncomfortably. “Alright Franny, show me what you’ve got.”

“Okay, so the first thing that you have to do is pick which color is your favorite. What’s your favorite color?”

Mickey had taken another sip of his beer, and now he sputtered slightly. “I don’t know Franny, you pick for me.”

Franny’s face melted into a pout. “But you have to pick, Uncle Mickey, it’s your favorite color!”

Ian bit back a laugh, his eyes still bright and cheerful. “Yeah, Mick, c’mon. What is your favorite color? We’ve never gotten this deep in our relationship before.”

Mickey gulped again from his beer can and flipped Ian off in the process. “I don’t fucking know. Never thought about it before.”

Franny held the stack of construction paper up to Mickey. “Look! There’s red, and yellow, and blue, and purple, and green—”

Mickey cut her off. “Uh, give me a green one.”

Ian smirked. “Green?”

“Fuck you, it was the first color I thought of.” Of course, that wasn’t really true—if Mickey needed to have a favorite fucking color, it was obviously going to be green, like the green eyes that met his gaze every morning and were the last thing he saw before he went to sleep at night— even if he would never be caught dead admitting that sappy bullshit to Ian.

Ian looked like he was holding back a smile. “Right,” he mused. “Hey, Franny, pass me a blue paper? Cause y’know, that’s my favorite color.”

Mickey gently shoved Ian in the square of his chest. “You’re being fucking soft.”

Ian let a crooked smile burst onto his face. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Mickey leaned back in his chair, holding the piece of thick green paper in front of him appraisingly. “Okay Franny, what’s step two?”

Franny stretched her body across the table to reach for one of the strewn pairs of scissors. “Now, you fold the paper in half, and then you cut out the shape of half of a heart, like this.” She drew an example of the curved pattern on the backside of Mickey’s paper with the tip of her finger. “And then you unfold it and it’ll be a perfect shape!”

“Sounds easy enough.”

Mickey took the scissors from Franny’s grasp, and held them up to the paper. It was just a fucking half circle with a little indent at the top— this wasn’t going to be too difficult. Ian and Franny went back to being absorbed in crafting their valentines, while Mickey started to botch and slash at his piece of construction paper.

When he was finally satisfied he unfolded the shape, the outer shell of the paper falling away. It was… well, it was kind of a heart, with two slanted sides and a wonky top half. It looked more like a blob attached to an angle than anything else.

Ian looked up from where he was doodling on a glittery heart and snickered.

“That’s uh… that’s a good first try, Mick.”

Mickey slammed the piece of paper down onto the table. Fucking arts and crafts, he was never good at this shit even when he was little—he fingers were always too fumbling, too clumsy for him to make anything delicate and pristine. Ian’s hands should have been as ungainly as his, but instead they were quick and nimble, smoothly cutting perfectly-rounded circles and gluing neat lines of glitter.

Franny noticed that Mickey was done cutting his shape. “Good job Uncle Mickey! Now you just have to draw on it, and put on stickers and glitter.”

“Yeah Mickey, let’s see those artistic skills.”

Mickey aggressively flicked some flecks of glitter from the table in Ian’s direction, then picked up a crayon and gripped it with an iron fist. What the fuck was he supposed to draw? This was a valentine for kids at Franny’s school, the fuck did kids like anyways? He started to draw some sort of stick figure, but the arms were too long and the head was too small, so he tried to color over it and make some sort of tree or some shit…

As Mickey scratched at the paper, he looked over at noticed suddenly how content Ian looked—how blissed out and settled he was, just running a crayon over the colorful paper and shaking bits of glitter onto pools of glue. If Mickey was being honest, he hadn’t seen Ian this light and happy in a while; he’d had a hunch in his shoulders for months after the wedding and the pandemic and all the minimum-wage job bullshit, the shadows of expectation hanging over him and causing a deflated weariness in his gaze that was impossible to ignore. But right now, Ian looked like he was having as much fun as Franny was, practically vibrating with satisfaction as he put the finishing touches on his drawing and reaching to place his completed valentine in the growing pile.

Mickey snatched the paper out of Ian’s hand, slightly crumpling it around the edges. “Wait a second. How the fuck did you do that?”

The valentine was immaculate, the heart symmetrical and traced in a thin outline of glitter. In the center of the paper there was a perfect little cartoon of a dog in a top hat, with an air bubble that read “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Ian shrugged. “Watched a lot of cartoons when I was little. And I’ve always kind of liked to draw.”

Mickey shoved the valentine back in front of Ian. Goddamn perfect fucking husband who’s good at fucking everything. He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, suddenly losing all motivation to play along.

Ian smirked, then reached to rest a hand on the back of Mickey’s neck. “Giving up already?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Fuck you, Gallagher.”

Ian’s smile just widened. “Here, how about I cut the fucking shapes and you glue stuff onto them. That’d still help me and Franny a lot, right?”

Franny nodded. “It’s okay Uncle Mickey, I was bad at cutting the shapes too at first.”

Mickey huffed. Okay, so maybe he was horrible at this shit, but the least he could do was suck it up for Franny’s sake. “Fine,” he muttered, and grabbed a glue stick and a bottle of glitter.

A few minutes passed and they settled into a comfortable silence, enveloped in the sound of the scissors gliding and Franny scribbling on paper.

Suddenly, Franny looked up as Mickey reached across the table to grab a pad of stickers.

“Hey Uncle Mickey, what do you and Uncle Ian do for Valentine’s Day?”

Mickey didn’t really know how to answer that question— he darted a glance over at Ian, trying to signal as much. Could you ruin the spirit of Valentine’s Day for kids in the same way you could fuck up Christmas? “Uh, nothing really.”

Ian chimed in. “We used to like Valentine’s Day when we were little like you Franny, but now that we’re big we don’t really celebrate it. Right Mick?”

“Yup.”

Franny’s brows were furrowed again, this time in contemplation. “But. You love each other, right?”

“Sure, Franny. But we don’t need a special day for us to remember that,” Ian explained.

Franny seemed appeased enough by that answer to resume her drawing. “You don’t give each other valentines or candy or anything?”

Mickey almost laughed. Of course he and Ian had never celebrated fucking Valentine’s Day; if he was being honest, he didn’t remember even really thinking about Valentine’s Day before now, other than it being a day when Mandy came home crying in middle school because the boy she liked didn’t ask her out, or buying all the half-priced chocolates in red and pink wrappers at the drugstore a week later with his brothers. With all the shit in his life the past few years, frilly fucking holidays like Valentine’s Day were just… not on Mickey’s radar.

But maybe— maybe this year was different. This year, for maybe the first time in his life, Mickey felt secure and steady in a way that he never had before, like the ground was solid beneath him and wasn’t going to cave in at any minute. He had a fucking husband that he loved—why couldn’t they celebrate Valentine’s Day like a normal goddamn couple? Ian didn’t seem to be too bothered that they both didn’t give a fuck about the holiday, which was all the more reason to catch him off guard. He kept pressing stickers down onto the construction paper, his mind starting to churn.

By the time they’d made the twenty-seven fucking valentines, Mickey had made up his mind; this year, he and Ian were going to celebrate Valentine’s Day.

part two here!

[harrysbbby]

Don’t Forget Where You Belong -  JJ Maybank x Reader - Part Three

A/N: new part!!! feedback is always appreciated and please let me know if you’d like to be tagged

Part 1

Part 2

“Okay. So, um... we didn't see anything,” Pope said clearly stressed. “We need to have total and complete amnesia.”

“Actually, Pope's right for once,” JJ piped up. You shot him a confused look. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘and what about it, “See, I agree with you sometimes. Deny, deny, deny,” JJ continued to yabber on.

“Guys, we can't keep that money,” Kie said.

“Okay. Not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara,” JJ shot back at her.

“We really should give it to Lana Grubbs. Technically it was her husbands.” You spoke, raising your hands defensively as JJ shot a glare at you.

“See,” Kie said gesturing towards you, “Otherwise, it's bad karma.”

“Bad karma to be implicated in a felony, too,” Pope spoke directly and with conviction. He kept his head down.

“Pope…” you started but he cut you off.

“We gotta go dark.” He said, lifting his gaze to look around at all of you.

“If that means we get to keep the money, then I agree,” JJ settled. You went to open your mouth to say something, but John B’s voice cut you off.

“I don’t agree,” he said to JJ. He moved to the centre of the porch and began explaining as if he was giving a Ted Talk,

“Just think about it. This is Scooter Grubbs we're talking about. Same dude that's buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot because he needed gas. We're talking about a dirtbag marina rat who's never had more than 40 bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden, he's got a Grady-White? Just sayin'.”

“It is a little odd,” you said in agreeance, leaning back on your chair and nodding up at John B. He nodded back as if to say, ‘thank you’ and then turned to the rest of the group who still didn’t look quite as convinced.

“I don’t know…” Pope trailed off. Looking around at you all. He stood and grabbed a fishing rod from the side of the doorway and made his way out to the pontoon. JJ grabbed the other and followed. The five of you made your way out to the water, perching yourselves along the wooden structure. The boys launched their baits into the water as John B started up again.

“All right, so think about it, Pope: How does a marina rat get a Grady-White?” he asked. Pope didn’t even look up from his line as he deadpanned,

“Prostitution”

John B shook his head in disbelief, “Square groupers, bro. Okay, flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance. They don't do that stuff during a hurricane. What does that mean?” He looked around at the rest of you. You and Kie just shrugged as John B sighed, “JJ?”

“They were straight smugglin'.” He answered

“Smuggling, really?” you asked.

“Yup,” John B asserted, “And I guarantee there's a serious amount of contraband.”  

“Hell, yeah,” JJ hooted. His line gave a sharp tug and he struggled to keep control as he reeled in it. “Fish on!”

The group decided that it would be a good idea to throw a kegger in order to “lay low”. Somehow this always seemed to happen, but regardless you helped Kie carry the red solo cups onto the beach and placed them next to the keg. You felt an arm rest again your shoulder and when you turned your head your eyes met JJ’s

“Hey hey,” you said to him, moving your arm to wrap it around his waist, “who will be your claim tonight? Pogue or touron?”

JJ was notorious for accumulating at least one hook-up from each of the Boneyard parties. You were able to hold your own every now and then managing to find a cute boy to occupy you for the night, but it wasn’t quite your thing as it was JJ’s.

“I don’t know, think I’m getting kinda over it,” he said shrugging avoiding your gaze. You head did a double take as you whacked his chest.

“JJ Maybank, over hook-ups at keggers? I think the world is ending!” You spoke melodramatically, placing the back of your hand against your forehead and pretending to faint onto him. He let out a small laugh as he grabbed your body that had fallen across his. You stood up again smiling back at him.

“Yeah, think I just want something… I don’t know, different?” in said in a questioning tone. You furrowed your brows at him. You could see the look on his face was stone-cold serious and it confused you. In all the years you had known JJ he had never spoken about relationships like this. You ruffled his hair as you joked with him to lighten the mood again,

“My little boy’s growing up!” you giggled as he picked you up off your feet and tossed you over his shoulder, a joking ‘piss off’ escaping his lips.

He placed you on your feet again before running off to give John B and Pope the drinks he’d originally come to the keg for. As watched him swagger away juggling the three drinks, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the thought of JJ wanting that relationship with you. Although you met John B first, he was more like a brother, you had always seen JJ differently. Like when he’d run a hand through his hair to put his cap on backwards your breath would catch in your throat. Or when you could feel your skin spark when he would grab your waist as he picked you up to toss you in the water. Or when you could feel your stomach drop and heart sink every time, he would get close to another girl.

You had always had a thing for JJ, but you knew the rule: no Pogue-on-Pogue macking. But it was killing you. You huffed as you took post next to Kie on the log, taking a huge gulp of your beer.

“You good?” she asked at the sight of your clearly distressed demeanour. “Let me guess, JJ?”

“Shh,” you shushed her placing your hand vigorously over her mouth. “Be quiet, I told you that in confidence.”

You and Kie, being the only two girls, would go to each other for anything that even entered the realm of emotional. The other boys just didn’t understand the need to articulate one’s feelings. You had told Kie about your crush on JJ a few months prior, and she had listened like a best friend should. But she agreed with you when you expressed your concerns about ruining your friendship. As much as you liked him, your friendship with him and the other Pogues was something you had to consider if you decided to risk it on a potential relationship.

“But yes, it is JJ. He said something super weird about not wanting to hook-up with anyone cause he wants something “different”.” You said, emphasising the different and looking at her with a bewildered expression. She hummed as she sipped her drink, clearly mulling over the information.

“That’s good though, right?” she asked, “he might like you too then?”

You shook your head at her,

“No, he said “different”, Kie. I’m normal, someone he sees every day. We’re routine.”

“I guess,” she shrugged. As you remembered what had been playing on the back of your mind, you perked up.

“Although,” you dragged out looking at her with pure excitement. She raised her eyebrows at your tone, “what we really need to talk about is you and John B,” you said nudging her with your elbow.

She looked down shyly, “what’s there to know?” she said playing dumb.

“Oh, come on Kie! You kissed him!”

“I did not,” she said sternly, “I only kissed him on the cheek,” she said flipping her over her shoulder.

You kept your eyes trained her as you narrowed them. She looked at you expectantly before she rolled her eyes.

“No! Y/N, god no! I don’t like him, okay? Not like that.” She said giving you a shove which made your coy smile slip slowly from your face. “I’m just worried about him.”

She looked over to where John B was chatting to a girl with long blonde hair. You nodded, accepting her answer as you felt a body sit beside you. You turned to see the usual mop of blonde hair that was usually in your face. Kie smiled as she slid her sunglasses off her face and onto your nose. You laughed as she did, saying she was going to go chat to John B.

You slyly turned around to JJ, the red, love heart sunnies on your eyes. As you did you slid them down your nose and popped your elbow on your hip, giving him a pout.

“What do you think?” you asked him cheekily.

“I mean you’ve looked worse,” he joked.

“Oh, shut up JJ!”

***

You heard the sound of fist hitting skin, followed the commotion of yelling. You looked up from your conversation with Pope to see Topper tackling JJ. You and Pope ran to the front of group that was forming. By the time you were there JJ was out of the equation and John B was shoving Topper.

“We’re supposed to be incognito remember?” Pope yelled. Sarah was trying to break up the fight, but Topper landed a punch on John B face. JJ went to go forward, but you put your hands against his chest.

“Nuh, uh.” You said holding him back. You looked down at your face with an aggressive expression but relaxed once he met your eyes. He lightly shoved your hands off his chest, huffing as the two of you turned to watch the scene unfold.

“Hey, John B, don't make me drown you like your old man, all right?” you heard Topper growl. JJ held your shoulders as he saw your body go to move forwards, as rage heated your insides.

“Fight, fight, fight!” the crowd kept chanting as John stayed crouched in the water. John B grunted as he tackled Topper into the water.

“Stop you guys!” you heard Kie yell as the boys continued to wrestle. John B nabbed a punch straight into Topper’s face.

“That's what I'm talking' about” JJ jeered.

“Come on!” “You wanna go?” “Come onnnn!”

The boys were yelling viscously at one another as they sized each other up. Topper landed a sharp blow to John B’s nose making him stumble back into the water.

“Stop!” the scream ripped from your throat. It hurt you to see someone doing this to John B.

“Come on, Topper! Let’s go!” John B yelled at him, fire in his eyes as he pounded his chest.

Topper flipped John B into the water and pinned his face down. John B’s arms flailed as he struggled.

“He’s drowning him!” Pope said, distressed.

“I know,” Kie replied with an equally amount of anxiety laced in her voice.

“We need to do something!” you looked around helplessly.

You saw JJ move from beside you and lift his hand up to Topper’s hand brandishing something black and sleek and metal. You heard it click. Oh no.

“Yeah, you know what that is,” JJ spoke menacingly, pushing the barrel further to Topper’s head, “Your move, broski.”

“Chill dude!” Pope called.

“JJ,” you said warningly, stepping towards him both arms outstretched.

“Put the gun down,” Sarah said calmly. JJ didn’t even move to face her as he fired back,

“Did you say somethin', princess?”

“We're good. We're good.” Topper said, his arms raised in surrender. “All right? Come on, man!”

“Y/N can you check your psycho friend, please?” Sarah yelled gesturing to JJ. You moved towards him as he pushed Topper to the ground. You placed your arms on his shoulders “JJ, please” but he pushed you aside as he charged forward.

“Okay, everyone, listen up!” his voice billowed across the boneyard, “Get the hell off our side of the island!”

He fired the gun into the air twice.  

“Are you crazy?” “You idiot!” “It’s not worth it!”

Pope and Kiara were screaming at JJ. “I was saving his life okay?”

Topper and Sarah had bolted once the gun had fired. You turned to see John B struggle to rise up from the water, only to slump and fall back in, water gushing over him again.

“Guy!” you called to them, but they were still yelling – “You're gonna jeopardize everything” – and you knew you couldn’t move John B alone. You grasped his head to keep his head above water so he could breath as you shouted again, “HEY!” there was gravel in your voice as you used all your might to get their attention. The three of them instantly pivoted towards you, taken aback from your uncharacteristic show of aggression towards your friends, “help me.”

You all managed to get John B back to the Chateau. Between the four of you, you managed to carry him inside and lay him on his bed. You had been silent the whole time, all of you, not daring to be the first to speak.

Pope, the often peace maker piped up first, “I think I’m gonna head home.”

Usually after a kegger you would all pass out, still mildly drunk on any surface at John B’s, but after tonight’s events, none of you wanted to stick around much.

“Me too. I’ll drop you,” Kie said. She gave you a small smile and wave as she and Pope exited the room. You were standing in the doorway of John B’s bedroom, observing at his passed-out body. He was breathing fine, just exhausted. So, you came to the conclusion that he would be fine, just needed a decent sleep. You could see the bruise forming on his face, so you made a mental note to check on it and make sure he iced it when you inevitably saw him the next morning.

JJ was sitting on the end of the pull-out couch. He watched the back of your body as you leant against the door frame. He did not dare to say a word to you before you spoke to him. By the glare you had given him as you gathered everyone’s things as he and Pope lugged John B’s body home, he knew you were furious.

He looked like a wounded puppy when turned around to face him.

“Want a ride?” you asked. All he could do to answer was nod.

You drove in silence all the way to JJ’s house. Usually you would just have him stay at your house. Your stepdad was usually oblivious to your actions and your mum didn’t really care what you did as long as you were safe, so JJ was always welcomed. But not by you tonight, not after what he did. No matter how much you wanted him to stay and not have to be in a house with his dad. You needed time to cool off.

You switched the engine of your car off as you pulled into the grassed drive of his house. You sighed as you ran a hand through your hair.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said keeping your eyes trained forward.

“Y/N…” JJ started but you cut him off.

“No,” you said holding your hand up in front of him. His brows were furrowed together, and his eyes were glassy, and it made you feel terrible. But he needed to hear what you had to say, “what you did tonight was so fucking stupid, JJ. I hate Topper as much as you do but you could have killed him.”

JJ went to open his mouth, but you raised your hand before he could speak.

“I know he was drowning John B, but you didn’t have to pull a gun on him. Word of this is gonna spread, and there’s gonna be consequences to that. I don’t want to see you get hurt,” you looked him directly in the eyes. You could see an emotion flash over them, was it guilt? It was something you definitely hadn’t seen before. You felt some tears well up in your eyes. “You’re just so reckless sometimes JJ. You’re gonna get yourself killed! So please, just think a little more next time okay?” you begged him as a single tear slipped from your eye. You hastily wiped it as he nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he said pulling you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms as far around his torso as you could from across the center console.

“S’okay, I just worry about you.”

“I know,” he said pulling back. He kept one hand outstretched on your arm, rubbing small circles with his fingers. “Please don’t cry.”

You laughed as you sniffled and wiped your nose with the back of your hand.

“You know I get emotional, especially when I’m drunk,” you laughed. He joined with you, but it wasn’t quite genuine as it usually was. He sheepishly looked forward, avoiding your gaze, “but thanks for the most awkward hug of my life.”

This grabbled a candid cackle from the back of throat as you smiled.

“Yeah remind me to not try and have a moment over the gear stick of a car again,” he said locking his eyes with yours.

“Ahaha, yeah…” you said, holding his stare.

“Yeah,” he responded still looking deeply into your eyes.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that. Time moved differently with JJ. Eventually, he cleared his throat and opened his door, triggering the inside light. You cringe at the brightness after having stared at JJ eyes in the dim for so long.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked standing in the door, crouching down to make eye contact.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you affirmed. JJ shut the door with a solid thunk and wandered inside his shack.

You took a deep breath as you pressed the start engine button. You rested your head against the steering wheel as you groaned: what was this boy doing to you?

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