#i need stop carrying around dead weight in my chest

[gothteddiesdotcom]

I feel so trapped that I can’t celebrate my favorite time of year with the people I care about

[skrunksthatwunk]

not to doomer post. but. american politics is like here's a conservative warmonger who wants to burn you alive personally and here's a different conservative warmonger who definitely wouldn't stop someone from burning you alive BUT who might raise the minimum wage by $0.30/hour for you, but only like eight years from now (so re-elect me please!! >w<). yes one of them has to be president they are the only two options we'll let you have. no neither of them will stop the government from killing you or anyone else, but at least one will say "it's kind of bad to kill people :( someone should really do something about that..." while giving the people-killers $20,000,000,000,000 to keep doing it then saying they can't afford to help you at all, but oh shucks, maybe next cycle, if you vote for me again! and also everyone will pretend as though they are extremely different political entities covering two highly polarized ends of the political spectrum despite nearly identical policy views obscured by their slightly different ways of addressing their target audiences, many of whom are also conservative warmongers. and also if you don't vote or vote third party the other guy will win and you will watch as they burn everyone you love alive in the same way they've burned so many strangers so you kind of feel like you have to vote for the other warmonger because even though they both have blood on their hands you'll take a handshake over an uppercut. even if you can still see the bodies piling up behind them. even if you can only save like five people you know and not the thousands of people who are dying in the other room. because you believe the difference between 30,000 and 30,005 is still worth it even though no one needed to die in the first place and no one seems to agree with you. you have to keep living in this world every day. if anything changes it will take decades and it will never be enough. if this takes a toll on you good fucking luck surviving off the generosity of the warmonger state that claims to serve you. happy voting!!

[chleem]

Mistletoe

One shot: bf drew starkey x gf yn

Summary: In which your secret relationship with drew gets exposed due to a quick kiss beneath the mistletoe.

Genre: fluff (making out wdrew)

⋆.˚ please dont copy or translate my work!

♡⸝⸝ happy xmas! | halloween | mr & mrs starkey

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You thought no one would say yes to a Home Alone marathon, but here you were—with seven friends huddled on your couch the week before Christmas.

You were prepared for rejection from them; watching the entire trilogy alone - well, not alone. With Drew, of course. 

Your boyfriend, of three months. Secret boyfriend. 

No one knew about you and Drew. And you both planned to keep it that way. The moment anyone found out, the teasing would be relentless. The questions would come. And honestly? You weren’t ready for that invasion of privacy.

It was easier this way. Just the two of you. Even if Drew was laughing along with everyone else, sitting across the room, his gaze on you would linger longer in a way only the two of you understood. 

What did Taylor Swift once say? Romance is not dead, if you keep it just yours. 

Maybe, the best thing she’s ever written. 

You stand up from your seat, carrying your empty cup. You needed a refill of hot chocolate, the only thing (other than Drew) that’s keeping your sanity alive in this cold weather. 

When you walk past where Drew’s sitting, the heavy weight of his stares makes your heartbeat uncontrollably speed up. 

Entering your kitchen, you immediately reheat the milk using the coffee machine, then pouring a bag of the instant chocolate powder into your cup. 

It feels like hours has passed waiting for the coffee machine to stop. 

Luckily, you weren’t alone while waiting. 

Before you can even react, arms snake around your waist, caging you between his body and the kitchen counter. His chest presses lightly against your back, and the warmth of his body sends a shiver down your spine.

Your heart already knows who it is: Drew. 

“Hey you,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing. 

He kisses your temple, and you sneak a look past his shoulder. The kitchen had a wall separating itself from the living room; but you could never be sure. 

“No one saw me,” he says, reading your thoughts. You look into his mischievous blue eyes with your skeptical ones, trying to suppress your smile. 

“Well, you can’t just sneak up on me like that,” you say, leaning into his touch. Without thinking, you let your nose drift near his neck; because why not? 

And as expected, he smells nice. 

“Mhm,” he’s never going to stop sneaking up on you. Drew’s eyes avert themselves down to your lips, before licking his own. “When are they going to leave?” 

“You know what a movie marathon means, right?”

Your words causes Drew to frustratedly groan, and throw his head back dramatically. You laugh at his reaction, finding it cute. “And we’re only on the second one…” 

“Patience, baby, okay?” You coo at him, a smile appearing on your face. 

You reach for the hot milk, pouring it carefully into your cup. As you finish, Drew’s hand moves up, effortlessly reaching the cupboard above you. Without a word, he pulls down the jar of marshmallows and hands it to you, his fingers brushing against yours. 

“We should just send them all home,” he whispers in your ear, seductively and annoyingly so, knowing that no one’s in here but the both of you. 

You send him a glare, shaking your head at him. “You mean I should send them all home. No.” 

You try to step away, cup of hot chocolate in hand, but before you can make it to the door, Drew pulls you back toward him again. His grip tightens around your waist, his hands feeling like they've found a permanent spot there.

You stumble slightly, not expecting the sudden pull, and end up having your chest tightly pressed against his. The heat from the mug in your hands is nothing compared to the warmth radiating from him.

One hand goes and takes the hot drink away from you, putting it back on the counter. “C’mon, I’m not done with you yet,” he smirks, undeniably teasing you. 

“Seriously?” you mutter, eyes narrowing at him, but the way your lips twitch betrays you. You like how he impatient he is; how he acts as if he can’t spend seconds away from you. 

You watch as Drew straightens up, his eyes gleaming with excitement, hand still firmly around your waist. The other slips into his pocket, and you raise an eyebrow, already bracing yourself for whatever this latest move will be.

“What now—” you start to ask, but your words die in your throat as Drew pulls something small out of his pocket.

The smallest sprig of mistletoe possible.

Your breath catches as you look up at him, eyes wide in disbelief. You expected anything but that.

He holds the mistletoe above the both of you, now expecting you to kiss him.

Then…“With you~ shawty with you,” the familiar tone of Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe leaves Drew’s mouth, but completely out of tune. 

You snort, unable to hold it in, the goofy sound escaping your mouth before you can even stop it. Romantic moment? No, maybe the complete opposite. 

Drew’s grin widens, and before you can even get a word out, he continues to sing the last chorus of the song. 

Your soft giggles encourages him to sing even more dramatically, adding in ad-libs. And when the song comes to an end, he attempts a high-note on the last lines, “kiss me underneath the mistletoe.” 

“You dork,” laughing, you hit his shoulder lightly in attempt to push him away.

“C’mon, kiss me,” he leans down closer to you, “especially after that performance.” 

You look up at him, eyes still gleaming with laughter, but something shifts. The playfulness in his gaze deepens, the smile slipping into something a little softer, a little more serious. He’s still holding the mistletoe above your heads, but it no longer feels like a joke.

And because it was such a good performance, you wrap your arms around his neck, pull him even closer, and kiss him. 

You pour your emotions into it; kissing him soft and slow. Drew immediately melts into it, kissing you back with the same tenderness. 

He drops his hands to wrap around your body, the rough leaves of the mistletoe tickling the skin your top doesn’t cover. You giggle into the kiss, leaving the invitation for Drew to thrust his tongue deeper into you. 

His hand slips lower and cups your ass, giving it a tight squeeze. 

Moaning into his mouth, you know this kiss is escalating. Escalating, rather fast. 

The pulse that speeds up in your lower stomach can support your thoughts. 

You pull away from him, breathless and slightly starstruck. 

Drew is definitely starstruck, lips plumped, cheeks red, and his blue eyes no longer able to hold a single thought behind them. 

He leans down to continue, and when you pull away, a pout is evident on his lips. 

“Earth to Joseph,” you giggle breathlessly, cupping his face. 

He smiles at the mention of his full name, lazy look in his eyes. “They didn’t notice I was gone,” he murmurs, his voice laced with desperation to kiss you again. 

“They will soon,” you gently tell him, before planting a quick kiss to his lips again. 

“Fuck,” he groans, biting down on his lower lip. His gaze drops down between the both of you, and you follow his trail of line. 

Sure enough, the crotch area of his jeans is slowly emerging, a line evident.

“Forgot how easily aroused you are,” you tease, patting his shoulder as you walk past him.

Your gaze flickers to the doorway, and when your mind confirms it, you freeze.

“Shit.”

Your eyes lock with Madelyn’s. She’s standing there, mouth opened in a gasp, eyes wide with shock. She doesn’t even try to hide the fact that she’s caught you in the act. 

Her eyes flicker between you and Drew, who immediately turns his back to face her (obvious reasons why). Her opened mouth turns into a full-wide grin, before raising a finger to point between you and Drew. “Oh! Oh-“

Madelyn’s loud remarks echoes through your apartment, making herself heard to the rest of the group in the living room. You embarrassingly bury your face into your hands, hearing the footsteps of your friend group entering your kitchen. 

Great. So much for keeping this relationship a secret. 

“What happened?” You hear JD ask, worry in his tone. 

“They were making out! And- and Drew’s hard right now!” She practically yells it, leading to a chorus of gasps and laughs. You’re pretty sure Rudy laughs the hardest, his laugh full of amusement and disbelief. 

You groan in embarrassment, your face burning as you sink to the floor, hands instinctively covering your face like a shield. "Fuck," you mutter under your breath.

“You owe me fifty bucks!” You hear Chase happily chirp to someone. 

Everyone takes advantage of you and Drew’s discomfort, just like how you expected them to do once they found out.  

You then feel hands cupping your face, forcing you to look up. 

You meet the familiar blue, Drew now kneeling beside you with an embarrassed smile that matches yours. He rests his forehead against yours, his chest vibrating with laughter, “guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

You giggle at his capability to joke along, hitting his shoulder lightly. “You’re so annoying.”

“Merry Christmas to you too,” Drew says, brushing off your comment with a playful shrug.

You shake your head, but the warmth in your chest is undeniable. With a quick move, you grab the collar of his sweater, pulling him close. You tilt your head just enough to meet his lips in a kiss.

It’s soft. Brief. Sweet. Just enough to drown out the noise, to remind you of the quiet between you two amidst the madness.

When you finally pull away, your breath mingling, you murmur softly, “Merry Christmas,” your voice a gentle whisper that only he can hear.

Drew’s eyes soften as he looks down at you, his smile warm and genuine. “Merry Christmas,” he repeats, as if this moment—this simple kiss—is exactly what he needed too.

-------------------------------

word count: 1.6k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: merry christmas!! hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! i love writing these little holiday specials, bc it gives me the opportunity to write something fun & weird! last one i wrote was hallow's eve, and i just wanna say thxs for liking it. that is, im currently writing another christmas oneshot, so look forward to it!

[letsgoletsgetit08]

ateez soft hours pt. 2

how they would treat you while you're on your period

maknae line

warning: mdni, period sex, smut

word count: 3.4k

ao3 link: maknae line

author's note: I uh. yeah.

choi san: "What's up, babe?" He sounds out of breath over the phone, "I'm finishing up at the gym."

"Everything hurts and I want to die." You whine.

"Oh, no, my poor baby! Do I need to bring you any supplies on my way over?" His voice was sweet, always so attentive. You felt lucky every day that he grew up with an older sister.

"No, I'm okay with all that, but thank you. I just want you to come lay on top of me with your entire body weight."

"Anything you want, honey. You know you could come join me at the gym, exercise helps relieve cramps, allegedly." He was mainly joking.

You groaned, "Ugh, Choi San stop talking about exercise right now or I'm going to turn homicidal. You know any other day I would have gone with you."

He laughed at your dramatics, "I know, precious. I just had to tease, I'm sorry. I'll be sweet the rest of the night, promise."

"I mean if you really want me to break a sweat, I have some ideas for cardio we could do later." Heat curls in your aching abdomen at the thought of it. Glad your boyfriend has never been squeamish about period sex.

"Oh?" He asked, you were silent until the implication hit him, "Ohhhh. Well, yes, of course." His voice lowered so he couldn't be heard by anyone around him, "You know I'll take care of you, baby. Make you feel so good. No touching yourself until I get there, okay?"

Your thighs clenched together at his words, "Okay, yes, I'll be good." Your voice was breathy, already laced with lust.

"Mmh, good girl. Already getting all bothered for me, aren't you? I'll see you soon, honey." He didn't give you a chance to reply before the line went dead.

San was so good at picking up on your cues, happy to take the lead or to follow, depending on your mood. You liked him any way you could get him but your favorite was when he gently took the reins, giving you soft but stern instructions and showering you with praise all night, talking you through every orgasm. The thought of it made it hard for you to keep the promise you had just made to him.

You decided to shower instead, waiting for him to come home, feeling a little yucky after being in bed all day.

By the time you emerged in nothing but a towel, San was already there.

"Hi, gorgeous." He enveloped you in a big hug. He had showered at the gym, it seemed, hair still damp, cheeks rosy, comfy in a t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Sannie." You sighed into his chest.

He pulled back and trailed his hands down your arms, "Look at you, all clean just for me?"

You nod, looking down, feeling shy and exposed. Hormones, probably.

He pulled the towel open to look at you, "Oh, honey. I'll never get over how stunning you are." He pulled the towel all the way off, tossing it over the still-open bathroom door, reaching for you again, hands warm as they fell to your slightly boated tummy. He always made you feel so beautiful even when you felt like a hot pile of dog shit. "I brought something." He kissed your forehead then went to his backpack, pulling out a bottle of massage oil, "Thought this might be nice. I know your body is achey. Does a massage sound nice?"

"It sounds incredible." You smile at him, tears in your eyes, feeling especially grateful for him in that moment.

"Come on then, jagi." He leads you to your bedroom, grabbing a new towel on his way, to keep the massage oil - and whatever other potential bodily fluids - off of your bedding.

He has you on your stomach, deft hands turning you to putty at their touch, paying special attention to your lower back, where he knows carries extra tension. You're nearly in a trance when he wipes one hand on the towel, still kneading one ass cheek with his other hand, evidently able to tell what the massage was doing to you, your core becoming wet with arousal. He removed his other hand and you hear a squirting noise. When his hand returns, you realize the noise had been him applying lube to his fingers, which were now teasing your already slick slit, up and down, movements slow. Your legs parted further on instinct.

"Yes, baby, that's it. This is what you wanted, hm? Don't worry, I'm going to make you feel good." San’s voice was low and you felt yourself grind back into his fingers at it. "Patience, love." He chuckled, "We have all the time in the world."

His fingers found your clit, applying pressure to either side of it, before finally brushing over the top, just briefly before they slid down your folds once again, his other hand spreading your ass cheek as he held his fingers to your entrance. He didn't have to apply much pressure at all, you were so turned on that your cunt sucked him in greedily. He thrust them in and out a few times before curling them forward, hitting your sweet spot. Your back arched at the sensation and you could tell he was smiling behind you, "Mmh, so responsive, jagiya. I could do this for hours."

And you believe him, too. He sets a pace but slows down when you try to fuck yourself back onto his fingers, "No, no, sweetheart. Let me bring you there. I want you as relaxed as you were when I was massaging you, okay?"

"Yes, sir." You manage, face squished by the mattress, brain floating towards another planet already.

"Good girl." He says, fingers returning to continue their ministrations.

At some point, his thumb finds your tight ring of muscle, taunting him as it sat there within reach right above your now absolutely quivering cunt, circling it and adding just a little pressure. A gasp leaves your mouth at the sensation, surprised at how much you like it. "Mmh, so sensitive. You like this don't you?" You were so wet, every nerve alight at his touch, seconds from falling apart, holding on because you knew he would want to tell you when to let go. "You've been so good for me, angel, why don't you go ahead and come? On my fingers like a good girl."

Your body obeyed immediately, pleasure rolling through you. You thought your orgasm might never end, it was unlike anything you had ever felt before. "There we go baby, just like that. God, you're stunning." You were still clenching when he removed his fingers, just long enough to strip off his boxers and tank top, climbing back up and guiding the tip of his cock to your absolutely drenched core, letting you suck him in, inch by inch. The way he filled you had you immediately working up to your second peak, "Christ, honey, you're so wet. So. Fucking. Tight." He punctuated his words with the snap of his hips as your walls clenched around him again and again.

"Sannie-" You cried out in pleasure.

"I know, kitten, I'm right here with you." He purred. By the time you're worked up to your third release, he's cumming in perfect time with you, cock quivering as he pumped you full. "Oh my god, yes, fuck." He cried out. "You were made to take me, weren't you, baby? So fucking good for me." He praised you as he pulled out, collapsing beside you and dragging your limp body over to lay on his glistening chest.

"Sannie, that was... fuck." You couldn't form proper words, "Thank you."

"No need to thank me, jagi." He kissed your forehead, "The pleasure is all mine."

song mingi: He barely stirs as you roll on top of him, body aching, too early to do anything about it.

"Mmh, baby," Mingi’s morning voice is deep, raspy, one of his big hands pulls your leg up over his hips, the other tugging you closer to his chest.

You fall back asleep for a while. When you wake up, your head is a little more clear, and you realize you've bled through your underwear onto Mingi’s boxers. Heat flushes your cheeks in embarrassment and he stirs as he feels your body tense.

"'S wrong, jagi?" He rubs your back as his eyes blinked open slowly.

"Mingi, I'm so sorry, I-" you move your leg and he realizes what happened.

"C'mere." He pulls you back down into a slow kiss, apparently immune to your morning breath. You can't help but let out a moan as his hand finds your ass cheek, helping your hips grind into his thigh. "Yeah, you like that?" He all but growls into your ear as his hands work your stained underwear off, following with his own swiftly behind.

He rolls you over wordlessly, spooning you from behind, his already hard length in hand as you open your legs for him. He drags the head of his cock from your clit up to your soaked entrance, repeating it a few times until you're whining, grinding your ass back, begging to be taken.

"Oh, really?" He whispers, kissing down your shoulder, "You want me that bad, hm?"

"Please, Mingi, yes." You beg.

He holds his cock to your entrance, "Don't worry baby, I've got you." He pushes forward slowly, tip barely buried inside of you. "Go ahead, then." He instructs. You obey, working yourself down rather easily with the extra lubrication as you stretch over his large dick. You can tell he's watching himself disappear inside of you, his hair tickling your shoulder.

"Ah, fuck, jagi. You take me so well." He moans, beginning to lay long, lazy strokes. You knew when you first saw him dance on stage that his stroke game would be incredible, and you were pleased to find out how right you were when you started dating. It's only improved as he's gotten to know you better.

His hand reaches around to find your clit, fingers bumping into his shaft as he pleasures you, the perfect amount of pressure, circling and stroking. You were cramping so bad when you woke up but now your ab muscles had been given something real to focus on. You lean back, head falling to his broad shoulder as your whole body spasms in release. "Fuck yeah, just like that, baby." Mingi growls, his pace picking up as he works you through it, hips pumping harder and faster until he finally stills, and the feeling of his cock pumping you full of his seed is nearly enough to have you on the edge of coming again. All he has to do is play with your tender nipples and lay a few more strategic strokes and you're clenching around him again, breathless, whole body boneless, insides jellied.

You both caught your breath for a minute before Mingi spoke again. "Baby, I know we had plans for the farmers market today, but I'm sore from dance practice yesterday and I know you don't feel well. What if I make us some breakfast and start a load of laundry and then we can stay in all day and watch movies until I have to go to the studio tonight?"

You crane your neck around to kiss him, off-kilter from the odd angle, "That sounds perfect, baby."

"Mmh, good, I'm glad." He kissed you again, "Let me go grab you some Midol and start the shower, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you for being so sweet to me."

"Of course baby," He smiled as he extracted himself from your back, "I'm happy to. You always take care of me, it's the least I could do."

jung wooyoung: Hands on your waist startle you as you're washing dishes, audio book playing through your headphones concealing the noise of Wooyoung letting himself in.

“Ah!” You nearly drop the bowl in your hands, “Jesus! You scared the shit out of me!”

You feel yourself relax into his touch as he hooks his chin over your shoulder and moves one headphone off of your ear, “Baby, you're shouting.”

You huff as you place the bowl onto the drying rack, “Whose fault is that?”

He begins tickle you, “Not my fault!”

“Youngie!” You whine as you turn around in his arms, trying to evade his attacks, “Stop it!”

“Aw, grumpy,” his pout matches the one on your face.

You slap his chest playfully, “Hey, I have the right to be grumpy, my period just started.”

His expression turns sympathetic immediately, “Oh, jagi.” He kisses your forehead, “How can I help?”

You considered it for a second, “Well, I bought ingredients to make dinner but I really don't feel like cooking, so I was thinking about ordering in instead.”

“No way.” He grasped your face in his hands, “I'm gonna get you set up in the living room and then I'll get started cooking, okay?”

“Are you sure? You don't have-”

He cuts you off with a swift kiss, “No protesting. I'm happy to do it.”

You watch one episode of the show you've seen a thousand times, curled up on the living room couch, but as you see the preview for the next episode, you realize it's one you don't care much for, plus, the smell coming from the kitchen is calling your name. You turn off the TV and walk in right as Wooyoung is bending down to put the food in the oven to bake, making yourself right at home behind him on the island. He shuts the oven door and removes your light pink oven mitts- which look adorable on him - turning to spread your legs open so he can stand between them, arms caging you in as he presses his forehead to yours.

“Hi, beautiful.” You've always found his voice endearing, but it's especially so with the slight rasp it gets when he's jonesing for a you fix.

“Hi, handsome.” You barely get the words out before he's kissing you. Slow, deep movements from his mouth draw a moan from yours.

You can already feel heat pooling between your legs at his proximity and you pull back to ask, “Baby?”

“Yes, darling?” He smiles, eyes dark with desire, reveling in how he knows he drives you crazy.

“How much time do we have?”

“Twenty minutes,” His hand skims the waistband of your loose sleep shorts, sending shivers down your spine, “Plenty of time.”

You don't get a chance to reply before his fingers find their way inside your underwear, circling your throbbing bud slowly before dipping down to gather the slick that has gathered at your entrance, taking his time as he trails them back up, exploring your folds before resuming his ministrations at your clit.

Your hand finds his waist to hold onto for support, getting carried away with the sensations he's providing.

His thumb takes over for his fingers as they work their way south once again, circling your entrance before plunging them inside, curling them to hit your sweet spot.

“Wooyoung-” You gasp, your muscles already tensing at the magic he's working.

His lips tickle your earlobe as he whispers, “Shh, jagi, I've got you.”

Your head falls to his shoulder as his fingers set a pace, the sound of how wet you are at his touch only serving to double it.

You whimper as your walls start to clench around them and you can almost picture the smirk he's wearing, “That's it, pretty, just like that. Come on my fingers.” His words only intensify the sensation of pleasure as you clench around his fingers, panting as you call out his name.

He pulls his hand out when he's sure you've ridden out the waves, holding his slick fingers, streaked in some places with blood, in front of his face, devilish look on his face, eyebrow cocked.

“Wooyoung!” You scold him, “Don't you dare-”

But it's too late, he's popped his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean, eyes rolling back in his head at the taste.

Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Beep-beep!

The timer goes off, interrupting you from further chastising him.

“What?” A smile takes over his face, “You taste good all the time, honey.”

You roll your eyes, but secretly find it cute.

He insists on feeding you bites of your dinner later, wiping the corners of your mouth with a napkin when you're finished.

Later, in the shower, you let him bend you over and hit it from behind, pulling out last second to finish, hot liquid landing on your back, your ass. He helps you wash your body to make up for it.

Once in bed, he kisses you all over, making you giggle and squirm before finally relenting and tugging you to his chest, stroking your hair as your breath evens out and you drift off to sleep.

choi jongho: You almost wonder if the man has logged into your period tracking app on his phone, uncanny in how he can pretty much always predict it. Eyes studying you a few days out as you tear up unexpectedly at a particularly sappy car commercial. You find your cabinets stocked with your favorite snacks the next day. 

The next morning, you wake up bloated, cramping, and grumpy. As you head into the bathroom, you realize Jongho has re-stocked your pain killers and period supplies. You call him when you get back into bed. 

He answers on the second ring, “Hi, princess, how are you feeling today?” 

“I swear you're more accurate than my tracking app, you fortune teller.” You can't help but be amazed at his abilities. 

He chuckles, “No, peach, I just pay attention.”

You smile at the cute pet names. He's always trying out new ones on you. You can hear traffic in the background, “You're the best. What are you up to?” 

“I'm about five minutes from your apartment.” He answers. 

“Choi Jongho!” You giggle, “How did I get so lucky?” 

“I'm the lucky one, jagi. I'll see you soon.” 

He's good to his word, chocolate and a teddy bear in his arms, backpack slung over one shoulder when you open the door to let him in. 

“Baby!” You all but squeal, “You're too good to me.” 

He puts his things down on the coffee table and pulls you into a big bear hug, “Anything for my perfect girl.” 

You pull back and he traces your cheek with his thumb before leaning in to kiss you, his lips slow and careful, hands gentle as he pulls you close. Your tongue probes into his mouth and he allows it, a moan coming forward from somewhere deep in his chest. He detached his lips, “Do you want to go to your bedroom, sweetheart?” 

“Yes, please.” You simper. 

He scoops you up bridal style and carries you to your bed, placing you gingerly onto the bed, climbing on top of you, kissing you into the mattress. 

“Baby,” You stop him as he reaches for the hem of your shirt.

“What's up?” He falls to the bed beside you, not wanting to crowd you. 

“I'm probably going to sound crazy and too needy-”

“Hush, don't talk about my girlfriend like that. Tell me what you need, ma chérie.” 

You giggle at his attempt at French, “I don't really want to like… have sex. Because I feel icky. But I still want to. You know.” 

He smiles fondly at you, “Where's your vibrator, gorgeous?” 

You blush, pointing to your bedside table drawer. 

He is relentless with your favorite toy, talking you through multiple orgasms, leaving your legs jellied, panting and sweating.

“So good for me, darling. I love watching you come.” He praises you as he switches the vibrator off, placing it on the bed beside him, pulling your boneless body to his chest. 

“Thank you for understanding,” you murmur into his chest, “Sorry I didn't feel like doing more.” 

“You never need to apologize for something like that.” He kisses your forehead, “Promise I'm happy to do it anytime. Anything to help my baby feel good.” 

The teddy bear he brought is the weighted kind you microwave to help alleviate cramps, which he fixes up for you before curling up with you on the couch, chocolate within reach. He turns on your favorite comfort movie without being asked, humming the score softly. The sound of his voice melts your heart. You feel yourself drift off to sleep before the movie ends, with Jongho’s strong, warm hands moving absentmindedly across any expanse of skin within his reach, heart feeling fuzzy with affection towards your sweet boyfriend.

[steddieas-shegoes]

four times eddie gets carried and one time he does the carrying

one

Eddie opens his eyes to chaos: a heartbeat under his ear that’s furious, a voice echoing just above him yelling profanities and directions, hands digging into his legs and side that should probably hurt.

But nothing hurts.

He can’t feel anything, actually.

Which is probably a good thing considering the last time his eyes were open, he was dying.

Maybe he is dead. Maybe this is Hell.

But he catches a somewhat familiar scent, and he turns his head towards the solid but soft wall holding him.

He must make a noise because the voice vibrating against his face stops, the movement under him stops, and a different panic ensues. He’s not sure what’s being said now, too focused on the comfort he’s feeling.

Maybe it’s not Hell. Maybe he’s found his way to Heaven.

But that’s Steve’s smell and Steve isn’t dead. Is he?

Eddie’s eyes open and he finds just enough energy to make a small noise, one that wouldn’t have been heard in the chaos, but definitely gets heard in the silence surrounding him now. He hates silence. He hopes if he’s dead, he can at least hear some music sometimes.

“Eddie?”

It’s definitely Steve’s voice, and Steve’s smell, and probably Steve’s strength holding him up.

“You don’t have to talk if it hurts, but can you tap my chest if you can hear me?”

Eddie could do that. He could.

His hand was already brushing against Steve’s chest as they walked, so he lifted a few fingers and brushed them against the material of Steve’s shirt.

“That’s good!” Steve sounded pretty thrilled about such a simple touch.

Eddie was familiar with being touch starved, but he didn’t think Steve could be this bad off with all the times he’s been practically glued to Robin.

“St-“ he tried to say his name, maybe get some answers for why he was being carried, but couldn’t quite manage it.

“It’s okay. I’m getting you safe. We can fix it,” Steve was walking still, but no other voices could be heard anymore. It was like the world had narrowed down to only them. “I promise I’m gonna fix it.”

“Mkay.”

Blackness clouded Eddie’s vision again as he lost consciousness.

two

Eddie’s physical therapy sessions in the hospital sucked, but the ones at home sucked worse.

At least at the hospital, no one was around to watch him struggle and fail except the physical therapist. At home, Steve was watching and making sure he did everything right, never more than a few feet away in case he needed help.

Eddie could walk with support, but he refused to use the stupid walker the hospital gave him. Wayne found a cane in his room from when he hurt his back a few years ago and told Eddie he could decorate it however he wanted if it meant he’d use it.

And he sure did.

He covered it in black paint, stickers, and had all the kids paint their names on it.

But he still hated using it.

So he was focusing on the walking movements the PT gave him, and Steve was constantly hovering beside him, waiting for any sign that he needed to stop.

“Your legs are shaking, Eds. We should stop for today,” Steve put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, careful not to put any weight on him. “You can do more tomorrow.”

“No, I’m almost to the couch.”

The silence was loud as he looked ahead at where the couch actually was. He wasn’t almost there. He wouldn’t make it.

But he was stubborn, dangerously so, and he was gonna make it.

He took another two shuffling steps, then felt a shooting pain in his side and nearly collapsed.

Steve’s arms were under him immediately, lifting under his legs and supporting his back in a fucking bridal carry.

“Put me down!” Eddie squirmed, but Steve was strong. “I was almost there!”

“No you weren’t and you were gonna push yourself too hard. You would’ve fallen and got hurt and if you get hurt again, it’ll be my fault.”

Eddie’s mouth snapped shut before his argument could be said.

Did Steve think he was actually responsible for Eddie?

“Stevie, it’s carpet. I would’ve been fine,” Eddie said quietly as Steve walked them over to the couch. He didn’t set Eddie down though, just held him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not letting anything happen to you again.” Steve set him down gently on the couch, making sure his legs were stretched out so he could do some of his sitting movements. “I’m not letting you down again.”

“What do you mean? You didn’t let me down,” Eddie stayed frozen where Steve had set him down, unable to even breathe properly.

“I should’ve been there so you didn’t run back to distract the bats. You never should’ve almost died.”

“Steve…” Eddie reached a hand out, tugging on Steve’s hand until he was sitting on the coffee table across from him. “None of this is your fault. I’m an adult. I made my choices. I would’ve made them even if you were there.”

“But-“

“No buts!” Eddie smiled at him, ignoring another sharp pain in his hip. “You know how stubborn I am. Do you really think you had a shot in hell of stopping me once I decided to be a distraction?”

Steve shook his head.

“Then stop blaming yourself. You saved my fuckin’ life, man. You stayed by my side nearly every day since then. You couldn’t let me down if you tried, okay?”

“Okay.”

three

He’d fallen asleep on the couch, he knew he had.

But he was currently in Steve’s bed. Which is upstairs. He hasn’t mastered walking up stairs yet.

How the fuck did he get here?

It was dark except for a hint of moonlight streaming between the curtains and a glow under the door from the hall light that was always on.

He turned on his side and nearly screamed when he saw a black outline of someone else in the bed.

The body moved and Eddie could just make out the hair.

Steve.

He was in Steve’s bed with Steve.

“You okay?” Steve’s raspy sleep voice startled him, his heart rate climbing to probably dangerous levels.

A hand reached out and touched Eddie’s chest, right over his racing heart. Steve’s hand was warm and wasn’t moving away.

“Mhm. How’d I get here?”

“Carried you.”

He couldn’t see if Steve’s eyes were open, or if he was even properly facing Eddie, but he was grateful for the dark hiding his blush.

“I could’ve stayed on the couch.”

“Wanted you here,” Steve mumbled against his pillow, his hand bunching up Eddie’s shirt as he pulled him closer. “Sleep.”

Eddie could think about it tomorrow. Or maybe never.

Maybe this was a dream, or maybe Steve was still asleep and had no idea what he was doing or saying. Maybe he’d wake up and Steve would be gone and he’d never know for sure if he dreamt it or it was real.

But for now, Eddie fell asleep with Steve’s hand against his chest and his body heat keeping him warm.

four

“I don’t know why you picked a spot so far into the woods. Are you trying to murder me? You were just being nice for the last three months because it would be easier to trick me?” Eddie paused to catch his breath. He was admittedly very out of shape, but this trek seemed particularly difficult.

“Are you in actual pain or are you just tired?” Steve asked, not slowing down at all.

“Can’t it be both?”

Steve finally stopped and turned to Eddie, the worried set of his brow almost making Eddie feel guilty.

“We can go back, Eddie,” Steve offered quietly.

Eddie saw the disappointment on his face, though. And he was a little sore, but mostly from being tired, not from actually overexerting his muscles.

“No, I can make it. How much longer?”

Steve looked around for a moment. “Less than half a mile, but most of it is uphill.”

“I’ll just take it slow. Sorry,” Eddie apologized.

“Hey,” Steve was suddenly back in front of him, hands on his arms to stop him, to comfort him. “We can go as slow as you need. We’ve got all day. Need any help?”

Eddie didn’t. He knew he didn’t. He was doing a lot better than he expected, truthfully.

But if it kept Steve’s hands on him, he was obviously going to say yes.

Steve wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him over a particularly large log.

They continued in silence, but Steve’s arm never left his waist, and Eddie’s breath never quite went back to normal.

When they were almost at Steve’s destination, Eddie lost his footing and nearly face planted into the wet soil. But Steve tugged him back just in time, until his back was flush against Steve’s front.

“Let me help,” Steve said against his ear.

His hands went under him, lifting him up in the familiar bridal carry that seemed like second nature for them at this point.

Steve held him close, made sure he had a good grip, then started walking forward.

“You don’t have to do this,” Eddie barely whispered. He felt a bit ashamed, that he couldn’t do something so simple, that Steve felt like he had to help, that he was a nuisance.

“I want to.”

Neither of them spoke again until they reached their destination.

Steve didn’t put him down at first, walking over to a clearing that looked out over the lake.

Eddie had no idea this was even accessible to people, had only ever noticed the cliff from the edges of the lake and assumed it was just untouched wooded area.

“This is a nice view,” Eddie said as he looked around. He could see a lot of the outskirts of town, even some of the surrounding areas that were mostly untouched by the events of spring break. “Can already see some stars.”

The sun was still up, but it was near dusk. The walk back would be dark if they didn’t leave soon.

“Yeah,” Steve finally set him down on his feet, but didn’t put any space between them. “Wanted you to see it.”

Eddie watched as Steve’s hands fiddled with his sweater, a nervous habit that he noticed back when he was still in the hospital. He’d never mentioned it, wasn’t even sure Steve knew he was doing it, but he always offered his ring-covered hand as a replacement.

Maybe it was a little selfish, but Steve never seemed to mind.

As soon as Eddie slipped his hand closer to Steve, he started toying with his mood ring, a gift from Dustin when he got out of the hospital so they could tell how he was before asking. It didn’t actually work, but they all thought it was fun.

“You come out here often?”

Steve shrugged. “Not as much since Vecna. Don’t really like being alone anymore.”

“Yeah. I know what ya mean.”

They stood there in silence again, looking up at the stars and out at the vastness of rural Indiana. Steve moved on to fidgeting with another ring, spinning it and twisting it every way possible.

“Wayne asked when you’d wanna move back in with him. Said he’s settled in the new trailer and can get your room set up whenever you’re ready,” Steve finally said.

Eddie turned to look at him, noting the shakiness in his voice. He was biting his lip so much, it was a miracle he wasn’t bleeding.

Something was off.

He’d been staying with Steve because it was easy, it was best for everyone to have easy access to a bedroom and bathroom while he healed, and Steve was the only one with parents who weren’t around. Wayne was stuck in the second floor of a motel, which wasn’t ideal for Eddie at all. But now he had a new place, and Eddie could handle stairs now, and it just made sense to go home.

So why did it feel like he’d be leaving his home if he went back to Wayne?

“Do you want me to go?” Eddie asked, bracing for the ‘yes’ he was certain was coming.

“No.”

Eddie pulled back in shock.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I mean no, I don’t want you to go,” Steve grabbed his hand again, tracing along the outside of his rings, making goosebumps pop up on Eddie’s arms. “I want you to stay. But I know you love Wayne and probably miss him. You should go if you want to.”

Eddie fishmouthed for a moment, unsure how to respond. He knew what he wanted to say. He knew he should probably think about this without Steve in front of him.

“And if I don’t wanna go?”

Steve searched his face for any hint of a lie, but Eddie knew he wouldn’t find one. He wanted to stay.

He wanted to stay with Steve.

“Then you should stay,” Steve choked out, almost in as much shock as Eddie had been only a moment ago. “Stay. Please.”

“In the guest room?” Eddie pushed. He shouldn’t push, but he had to know if this was Steve acting out of fear of being alone or if Steve was feeling the same about Eddie as Eddie was about Steve.

“I was thinking you could stay in my room. My bed.”

Eddie smirked. Steve was a charmer, no doubt about that, but he was clearly nervous, in uncharted territory.

He leaned in, watched Steve’s eyes widen in surprise at the shift in control of the conversation.

“And if I get sharing bed privileges, does that mean I also get kissing privileges?”

Steve nodded, eyes still wide, still shocked speechless.

“Could I start that privilege now?”

“Yeah. Yes, please.”

Eddie had never enjoyed a privilege quite as much as this one.

+ one

“You said the front step was fixed!” Eddie screeched as they stood outside their new home. “Look at it. It’s depressed.”

Steve snorted. “It’s just a little…crooked.”

“It’s barely even attached anymore.”

Steve nudged his shoulder and held out the key. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Eddie shook his head. “Oh no, no. We had an agreement, didn’t we?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I didn’t think you were serious.”

“I’ve been training for this moment for over a year!”

“Throwing me around on the bed is not ‘training’, baby,” Steve smiled. “But if you really wanna do this, I’ll unlock the door.”

Eddie grinned and leaned over to pick Steve up into a bridal carry.

Steve yelped when he almost immediately dropped him, his hand fisting in Eddie’s shirt to try to keep from falling.

“I gotcha, sweetheart,” Eddie said, tightening his hold on his legs and shifting him up so that his face was level with Eddie’s. “You know what’s nice about living in the middle of nowhere?”

“What?” Steve breathed out, eyes darting down to Eddie’s lips.

“I can kiss you right here in the open and no one’s around to see it.”

“Then do it,” Steve challenged.

Eddie was always up for the challenge.

He kissed him, smiling into it as he realized this was their whole future. This house, this life, it was theirs.

Eddie carefully stepped up onto the porch, avoiding the worst of the step, and walked up to the front door.

Steve leaned over to unlock it, pushed it open, and waited.

He looked up at Eddie as Eddie stepped through the door.

“Maybe someday we can do this married,” Steve’s voice was quiet, nervous.

“You wanna marry me?” Eddie half-teased. He still couldn’t quite believe how much Steve wanted him, how much he loved him.

“I’d do it today if we could.”

“We could pretend anyway,” Eddie kissed his forehead before setting him down. “We’ve got a lot of rooms to christen.”

“Where do you wanna start?”

“The living room has a fireplace and I’ve had fantasies-“

“Fantasies? Seriously?”

Eddie tugged Steve to him by his waist, captured his lips in a heated kiss. “So many fantasies.”

Steve started walking them backwards towards the fireplace. “Show me what these fantasies looked like then.”

“You got it, big boy.”

[buckyalpine]

I'm here for some angst and fluff rn. Bucky being sad no one trusts him after his metal arm is taken off during a fight.

-

Bucky stared at the dark grey metal that fell to the floor with a clank, his vibranium arm no longer attached to his body with just a few pushes to his joint. The fight ended, leaving the soldier lost as he picked his arm off the floor, fingers trembling around the cold material. It felt dead in his hand, the emotional weight of it far heavier than anything else he'd ever carried.

"Did you know they could do that?" Sam asked, eyeing Bucky carefully while he locked his arm in place, readjusting it with a swing. The gold plates shifted to recalibrate, his fingers flexing while trying to silence his thoughts that begin to run a million miles a minute.

"No"

Bucky trudged down the hall, his heart sinking when he could hear the soft humming from inside his apartment, his sweet girl already waiting for him to come home. He usually felt the weight of the world life off his shoulders when you were around.

Not today.

Not when he knew what he really was.

What he had been all along.

He let out a strained breath before rummaging for his keys and opening the door, the smell of tea, sugar and vanilla wafting through the kitchen and living room. He thought about escaping as soon as he toed his boots off, locking himself in the shower and calling it an early night, of course you'd understand but his body won over what his mind was screaming.

Your face lit up as soon as you heard the door creak open, setting down the book you were reading, excited to see Bucky after he'd been gone for days for a mission. Your happiness was short lived as he padded into the living room, the strained smile on his face doing nothing to mask the pain he was feeling. You could see the turmoil in his eyes, waves of emotion crashing over him before he could surface.

"What's wrong, bub" You coo softly, opening your arms for him. Bucky kept his jacket on, avoiding melting into your hold even though he craved it more than ever.

"Do people still think I'm dangerous?" He asks quietly, shifting away from you when he feels you pressed against his arm. Something so soft and sweet as you definitely didn't have any business being near something so terrible, disgusting, murderous-

"What? No baby, why would you say that?" Your heart breaks at the tears that begin to well in his eyes, his nose and cheeks reddening as he suppresses all the emotions that desperately want to bubble over.

"I-I had no idea others would be able to remove it" He whispers, chewing his lip till he nearly draws blood, avoiding your gaze to stare at the floor instead. The fluffy rug turns blurry as tears begin to escape, his throat growing unbearably tight. "M'still a monster" His voice cracks before the first cry slips out.

Your pull him into your chest as sobs begin to wrack his body, letting him lay on you while you wrap him safely in your arms. The feeling of your affection is too much for Bucky, he doesn't deserve it but he needs it; he feels selfish as he allows you to hold him, hiding his face into the crook of your neck.

"What happened, sweet boy" You coo against his hair, running your fingers through his soft locks. He continued to sniffle between whimpers, trying to calm down, fresh waves of emotion holding him down, his metal arm gripping onto the sofa cushions.

His arm was dangerous.

He was dangerous.

"During a fight" Bucky let out a shuddered breath before continuing, shame seeping through his veins. What would you think of him if you knew the people who had healed him still didn't trust him, "We were trying to calm things down. I didn't mean to do anything-I didn't-I was holding back, we wanted to talk things over, she-"

He bit his lip again as it trembled, still feelings the spots that were pushed, sending his arm to the floor, "I didn't even know what was happening. She hit my shoulder in a few spots and my arm fell right off"

You stopped your ministrations, your heart breaking into two hearing the pain in his voice. Bucky sounded so small, like an admonished child scared to tell the truth. He curled himself up further, still flexing his fingers, almost fearful his arm would fall off again without warning. You moved your arms to hug him tighter, wishing you could take away at least half the pain his was feeling.

"I didn't know they could do that" He said with defeat, still softly sniffling while you kissed the top of his head.

"You're not a monster baby" You knew how much work Bucky had put in, how much he struggled to get a hold of his mind again, how long it took for him to learn to trust others, to trust himself.

"Then why" You knew he was desperate hearing the plead in his voice. Why. Why did others still have control over his own body. Why were others still able to do things to him without his knowledge.

Why?

"I wish they'd told you why, baby boy" You brought your hand to gently tip his chin up, making him look at you, "Perhaps they have their reasons. Regardless, your heart is pure, Bucky" Your hands moved under his jacket and tshirt, stroking his bare skin, the feel of your pure hands already soothing his aching heart.

"They don't trust me" He sighed, sitting up again as his mind swirled. You didn't let him spiral for long, straddling his lap while his arms moved on their own to wrap around your waist.

"They do, bub" you shook your head, cupping his cheeks so he'd look at you. "They took you in and healed you because you were worth healing. You deserved it. I need you to remember my sweet Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes is a good man. The opposite of dangerous, a soft, sweet boy"

"Do-do you trust me" His voice was small again, looking at you through his lashes, nervously fidgeting with the hem of the Henley you'd stolen.

"I trust you with my life, Bucky" You took his metal hand, brushing your lips against the gold ridges before kissing each of his cool finger tips. "Every single part of you. Your mind. Your body. All of it"

The mental exhaustion of the day began to take it's toll as his eyes grew heavy, cuddling into you while you rocked him in a comfortable silence. You smiled at the soft snores you heard moments later as Bucky fell asleep in your arms.

"Let's get you to bed, baby" you whispered, gently waking him and taking a quick warm shower before jumping into bed. He was right back in your arms as soon as you pulled the sheets back, the grating voices not so loud any more.

Regardless of what the world though, had you.

A pure sweet angel.

She trusted him.

That had to mean something.

It would be a long road of healing but at least his had his angel to guide him.

[byllsbytch]

Cumming home to you <3

Nicholas Alexander Chavez

Ok, it’s pretty shitty, I’ve written this in 30mins, n im too lazy to write smut. (Besides I’m shit at it on a good day.)

here ya go cuties.

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Nicholas Alexander Chavez comes home late to his gf after a long day of filming, after many attempts of trying to get freaky they decide - fuck, we’re both too tired.

Warnings: Girl none?

I’d sat on the couch watching a cooking show, it was the most entertaining channel on at the time and seeing as the night was drawing to a close, I needed something easy to watch. It was my first week in our new apartment and Nick certainly was working his ass off for it. I numerously checked the time on the microwave in the kitchen and watched as the minutes passed.

I pulled the blanket up higher to my chin, slowly fluttering my eyes trying to keep them open. A tough inner battle. Being alone in the house it wasn’t hard to keep them open, when alone I’m always restless, however I was overtired. A wave of sleepiness hit me harder causing me to slump to the side of the couch. The words from the television became unintelligible and I began to drift away.

It felt like it had been two minutes before I woke to see Nicholas had finally gotten home and stood over me, pecking my cheek and playing with my hair.

“Come on princess off to bed.” He whispered. I struggled to open my eyes and glanced at the time again.

“2am! Nicholas! Are you ok baby?”

He smiled at my concern.

“I’m fine babe, just let me get you to bed.”

I mumbled before nick swooped me up in his arms and carried me to bed. I stretched and sprawled out in the centre of the bed before groaning in satisfaction.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m so tired.”

“You’re fine my darling girl. I’ll just go for a shower and I’ll be right back. I’m sorry for coming home late and waking you.”

He walked into the bathroom the next room over and turned the water on.

-

The steam began to snake its way into the bedroom. After a few minutes I managed to pull my dead weight up off the bed and dragged my body to the bathroom doorway staring at Nick’s physique behind the shower glass.

I slowly began to pull off my shirt and kick off my pants. I heard the water turn off and Nicholas got out drying himself then wrapping the towel around his waist. He finally noticed me standing in the doorway in my old, ratty underwear. He bit his lip before coming close to me.

“What are you doing babe? You ok?”

I smirked at him, placing my hand onto his abdomen. He looked down to my hand and smiled closing the gap even more.

“I was going to get into the shower.”

“Oh damn it!” He joked, “Come on baby, let’s just go to bed it’s late.” He lent over and kissed me on the forehead.

I looked up at him and gave him puppy eyes a slight frown.

He looked away. “Oh come on! I feel bad that I woke you up.”

I placed my hand on his cheek before pulling him into a kiss.

He leant in with no hesitation and tangled his fingers into my hair. We both closed our eyes in each other’s embrace as Nicholas began to make his way from my lips down my neck. I took my hands behind my back before undoing my bra. He kept all his attention to my collar bone leaving sloppy kisses. He pulled away sensing the warmth from my breast and stepped back to glance at them. My forearms rested in his, he stared in complete adoration and love.

“You’re so gorgeous and perfect.”

He placed his hands onto my chest before going back into the kiss. I moved my hands down to his towel and gently tugged, teasing him.

“Mhmm” He hummed, nodding in the kiss.

I pulled it off before he lifted me up and carried me back to the bed.

He placed me down delicately before crawling over me.

He was out of breath and visibly excited.

“How was work handsome?” I asked keeping my hand on his face his stocky frame above me.

He stopped puzzled, already panting from the little action.

“Yeah it was alright baby. Long and boring but it’s ok because we’re about to wrap up filming soon. Tell you what got me through it, you. I couldn’t help but think about you all day. I’m so happy it’s over so we can be in this moment right now.”

I felt a grin grow wider across my face.

“Especially the snap that you sent earlier, that REALLY helped me wind down.” He chuckled, winking.

My eyes widened as I gasped, slapping him playfully on the chest, “Nick! Oh my god!” I couldn’t help but laugh and he soon joined in with me placing his forehead against mine.

“You know what this is nice. How about we just do this.”

“Oh thank god!” I said, “I’m so fucking knackered.”

I rolled onto my side and felt Nick press himself up against me, wrapping his arms around me and resting his head into the crook of my neck.

He smirked at my reaction. “Oh ok! You came onto me remember!”

I smiled at him, “Well it’s hard not to.”

“You wanna know what’s hard?”

I turned my head back to look at him grinning before rolling my eyes.

We had some more pillow talk while he continued to spoon me.

“We’re definitely on in the morning, you know that?”

“Oh yes!” He triumphantly pumped his fist.

[shawnxstyles]

personal 2

DATE: SEPTEMBER 9, 2023

summary: you can’t stop thinking about your first orgasm, so you try to relieve yourself of the ache. when you’re left unsatisfied, you reach out to harry for some guided practice.

words: 6.6k

requested: a bunch!

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [masturbation, dry humping (?), thigh riding/rubbing], praise kink, dirty talk), language, and two horny best friends

note: this is a new series i plan on writing (but i don’t know if i want it to have a plot or just blurbs)!! i literally have so many requests (what’s new…), but i have a lot of motivation to write this right now, plus i’ve gotten a lot of requests for it as well. i hope you guys don’t mind the delay of my other writings… x PART THREE

bestfriendrry x inexperienced!reader

—

It’s been a week since you last saw Harry.

Yeah, you’ve texted here and there. Maybe if you saw some funny video that you just had to tag him in or vice versa you would, but you haven’t actually seen him. Not physically. You think if you did, you might just die.

The second that you rose up from his bathroom floor after having your first orgasm ever (and mind you, it was mind-blowing), you stiffly cuddled up with him on the couch to watch the movie he picked out. If he seemed confused by your quietness or hardened body, he didn’t say it. Your head on his chest would vibrate every time he laughed at something funny, but it was hard for you to voice some of your own giggles out. You couldn’t focus on anything other than his body pressed against yours, so similarly yet so differently to how it was merely hours before.

From your position, you were able to feel his heart beating, organ pumping blood and keeping him alive. Stable. And that’s all you felt from him; his stableness and calmness. Your heart was thrashing around anxiously in your rising chest while he was just calm. His lively beat was as calm as the ocean waves, so relaxing that you drifted off to sleep before the movie had ended.

In a deep, much-needed slumber, Harry could feel your body loosen up. He didn’t want to say anything, but he could feel your tenseness. That was the opposite of what he wanted to happen. Orgasms were supposed to make a person relaxed and stress-free, but your body felt nothing like that. He could practically hear all your anxious gears overthinking in your little head. He wanted to pry every thought out and reassure you that whatever you’re thinking is fine and that he’s there for you. But he knew he had coaxed enough out of you when you spilled out your biggest secret to him, earning yourself your first orgasm in the process.

So, Harry never brought it up. Not through the funny parts of the movie, the romantic scenes, or even the ads. He just let the air between you guys grow incredibly thick with your silence, but pretended like he could see through the fog. He remained as nonchalant as possible–it was his forte after all. After you fell asleep, Harry let the movie ride out. He tried to pay attention the whole time instead of pondering what you might be thinking, but he didn’t do too well. If someone were to quiz him on the film, he would fail horribly.

Harry shuts the television off and cradles you up into his arms. Your head lumped onto his shoulder like dead weight before you snuggled up right into his neck. Harry had carried you many times before, and even more times while you’re asleep like that, but the way his skin was getting all warm and melty was something he’d never experienced with you. Your nose was right up against his pulse and it made him feel sensitive and vulnerable, but also so warm and alive. It was really hard for him to stay calm.

When he reached his bedroom, he gently unwrapped you from his body and laid you on his bed. He watched in awe as you immediately curled into a ball like a fetus, trying to hold on to something for comfort. After a few minutes, Harry joined you in his bed and threw your hands around him. Your subconscious didn’t hesitate to scoot closer and bathe in his body heat, snuggling into your favorite pillow; his chest.

It was really hard to stay calm.

You both woke up and went on your way for that day as if nothing happened. You had an afternoon lecture that you had to catch and Harry had to go to work. It was alright. Everything was fine. Everything was normal. Right?

But you couldn’t stop thinking about Harry.

Normally, that would never have been a problem. He’s your best friend, so of course you think about him all the time! Sometimes, you’ll see a sign or a poster on the news board when walking to class that reminds you of one of your guys’ inside jokes that you just have to send to him. If he sees something too, he’ll send it your way. You both find it fun and endearing at the same time because that’s what best friends do; so alike and attuned that they’re always on the same wavelength of thinking. It was normal. But the way you’re obsessively thinking about Harry isn’t normal. You couldn’t even convince yourself that it was and that’s saying something.

Your mind kept drifting off to the way everything played out last week. Even when you were in class on Friday afternoon (one week later) you just couldn’t help thinking of the cold bathroom floor and the fiery body pressed against you. It was so contrasting–it was so wrong. The angel and the devil on your shoulders were bickering more than ever, and you didn’t have a clue whose side you were on.

Harry’s assertive voice echoed in your head, almost as if you were trying to remember it. You had never heard him talk the way he was talking to you last Thursday. It was deep, sultry, and demanding—something you never would have known you liked. You’re not even sure if you actually liked that or if you just liked when Harry did it. Well, you don’t really have anything to base your sexual likings on yet…

When his hands delicately touched and teased you, down your stomach, down your thighs, you felt it. You felt it for days after. His touch lingered like a ghost on your skin, etching a tattoo of himself on you forever. It was blinding and fogging your vision so much, you couldn’t even focus in class. The second that your Friday class was over, you shot straight home. You didn’t look at your phone as you hurriedly discarded your shoes and jacket and stumbled into your bedroom.

You plopped yourself on your mattress with a familiar goal in mind that you were never able to achieve before; you were going to masturbate. Now that you could do it, you were going to relieve yourself of this… stress.

It only took a few seconds before your clothes were completely off and your head was planted against the headboard. You widened your legs and watched your lips slowly pry themselves open with the stretch. You swallowed, small anxiety bubbling in your throat. But you knew what you were doing now. You knew how to do it right because Harry showed you.

Oh fuck. You should not be thinking about Harry right now.

A small amount of wetness coated your labia. It was inevitable–the second his name popped into your head, your mind began to not only recall but wander. You remembered his gravelly voice in your ear, guiding you, showing you, teasing you, praising you. You remembered the ghost of his touch that you attempted to replicate with your own, but it wasn’t the same. And of course, you remembered his bulge that was harshly pressing into your lower back, pleading to be helped. You remembered everything a little too vividly, but it made you so wet thinking about it, and it made it so easy to rub the little button that Harry showed you.

Your clit was puffy, swollen, and needy just like you. Your middle finger circled over it with desperation, snatching some of your wetness to make it sloppier. Your breath started to become unsteady as your eyes trained on your pussy, now soaking with your arousal.

This is when your mind begins to wander. You start imagining things that you haven’t done with Harry yet, but were so intrigued by. You imagined getting on your knees for him and taking him in your mouth, so you could finally relieve his bulky ache. He would encourage you, caress you, and call you a “good girl” in his thick, leather-like voice. The thought of satisfying him until he’s groaning above you has you spreading your legs wider and spinning your finger around your clit faster.

Just like Harry did, you snake your hand up to one of your peaked nipples. You found it was difficult to rub yourself while also tweaking your pebbled buds. It was definitely something you needed to gain muscle memory on, especially if you planned on doing this when you got stressed. Which was often.

You didn’t know how often you would get wet though. You hoped it wasn’t too frequently because like right now, you weren’t completely fulfilled. If you had to do this every other day, you would probably be even more upset if you weren’t satisfied each time. You felt that chase-like desire bubbling up inside of you, like with Harry, but it wasn’t nearly as blissful. Maybe the first one is always better than the rest and with each one you’ll just be a little more disappointed as time goes on. But as a shrieked moan leaves your mouth when you orgasm, a small voice in the back of your head is telling you the real reason you’re not satisfied.

Harry isn’t here.

—

On Saturday morning, after sleeping like shit under your shoe, you asked Harry if you could come over. Usually, you would have more self-control, but there was something about an orgasm that strangled and stole any self-preservation you had.

When you woke up, you went straight to the bathroom just to find out you were wet. Again. The word really? spilled from your lips before you could stop it. You assumed that you had some type of dirty dream, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was about Harry. But you’re glad you didn’t remember it. You were hurriedly wiping up your mess and tossing your shorts in your laundry bin. In some type of rush, you took a speedy shower like it was a competition.

Then you stared at your phone, wondering if you should do it. Should you text Harry? You’ve never thought about it this much ever, but one message could mean everything if he looked at it right. What if he thought you were obsessed with him?

No, don’t think that.

Texting your best friend is normal. Asking your best friend for sexual help was normal too. Right…?

Y/N: hey, what are you doing today?

You felt a little nervous. Not because you were texting Harry but because of what your intentions were. What if he felt like you were just using him? Your heart spiked when you saw the three small bubbles.

Harry: I just got off work

Harry: Want to come over?

He knew you too well.

—

The second he texted you he was home, you went towards his place. With every red light you hit, you bubbled with anticipation, drumming your fingertips on the steering wheel. Your anxiousness turned into a ball of excitement when you were actually in front of his door.

He opened it with a charming smile, one that you recognized all too well. You welcomed yourself inside and tried to seem as normal as possible. But you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Your mind kept wandering back to that feeling in your lower stomach.

“So… how was work?” You asked, creating some small talk as you plopped yourself on his couch. The very couch where everything started.

That was not helping.

Harry gave you a look, one with squinted eyes and a half chuckle. “Fine? What’s up?”

“What’s down?” You cringed as the words came out, your nervousness shining through.

“Why are you acting so weird? Are you okay, Doll?” Your stomach simmered at the nickname, differently than ever before. You had a feeling that name was never going to be the same for you again. You sighed, squeezing your legs together as Harry dropped himself next to you. His close proximity was nearly killing you. Not only did he radiate warmth but he smelt good—like he just showered in a tropical forest.

What is wrong with him?

“I’m not fine,” You admitted as your head fell in your hands. Harry grew concerned with scrunched eyebrows, throwing an arm around the back of the couch and waited for you to continue. When you didn’t, he asked.

“Well, d’you want to tell me what’s wrong or just sit ‘ere and complain? C’mon, Doll.”

You groaned, crossing your legs. The throbbing between them was so prominent, it was like a second heartbeat. Your hands balled into fists on your side, nails digging into your palms. Harry watched all your movements that you tried to withstrain.

“You can’t call me that anymore.”

“Woah, what?” Harry’s eyebrows jumped, extremely puzzled and surprised by your attitude. You’ve never had a problem with the name for the years he’s been saying it, so what changed?

“It’s—it’s killing me, H! Everything you’re doing is… just killing me and I don’t know why. I think I might explode. Is this what dying feels like?” You admitted, throwing your hands over your eyes again as a way to hide in embarrassment. Harry feels himself relax a bit, he even chuckles in the air you thought was thick with tension. When you hear his laugh, you look at him like he’s crazy. “This isn’t funny!”

“Oh but it is.” It was evident that Harry knew you weren’t actually upset with him. You were just innocently turned on so much that you were frustrated. And Harry so happened to be the only one to know your little secret. So why wouldn’t you come to him?

“No, you ruined me. Am I going to be… like this forever?”

“What, you mean horny? Probably.”

“Ugh, I hate you.”

“Then why are you here?” he smirks, patiently waiting for you to confess. You huffed under your breath while your eyes stared at your legs, thighs squeezing together at his cockiness. You were so annoyed at his control, but your body for some reason got off on it. You needed whatever he had because clearly only he could give it to you. “Look at me.”

You craned your neck up faster than you would have liked to admit, glaring at his darkening green eyes. A heat swirled not only in the pits of your stomach but in the air around you both, suffocating you with its tension. After gazing at your appearance for longer than necessary, his smirk deepens, which you didn’t even know was possible.

“I have a feeling…” he starts as his hand slowly creeps towards your neck from the back of the couch. “That you’re unsatisfied.”

“Yes,” You grumbled.

“Did you try to relieve your ache? Or did you just let it build up? Either way, you found yourself here.”

Your skin ran hot. Fiery hot. His hand brushed over your neck and he could definitely feel the scorching flames of your skin. Your heart was racing trying to keep up with your body’s excitement, making your eyes blown out and wide.

“I… tried to relieve it.”

“Did you do it the way I taught you?”

“…yes.”

“Did you feel satisfied?” You took a pause before responding, but Harry knew the answer.

“No,” You were honest, just like before. A part of you felt ashamed again, too. Maybe you didn’t do it right and you were just a lost cause. Instead of looking sad at your predicament like last time, Harry smirked. That fucking smirk. It meant he knew something you didn’t and that frustrated you more.

“So I was right. You just need a little help s’all,” his thick hand gently squeezed your neck, causing you to hum and close your eyes. He loved how responsive and sensitive you were, it lit a fire in him. “So how’d you do it, hm?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, walk me through it. What made you want to masturbate in the first place?”

Your eyes shot open and looked as far away from him as possible. Your body clearly stiffened and got anxious from the question. You felt your hips squirm in their tight position on the couch, begging to move. Your little button was throbbing, so much it was becoming painful.

“Don’t lie. I can’t help you then,” Harry was being taunting and condescending. A tingle sparked within you, urging you to be truthful. You hoped he would help you like before because like you said, it was getting painful and you were getting desperate.

“I-I kept thinking about last week.”

“What part?”

“Um, the whole thing,” You bit your lip, twiddling your fingers.

“Be specific.”

“Harry…” You practically whined, covering your face for the third time in embarrassment. “Can you just… make it go away please? It obviously didn’t work when I did it.”

“‘Course I will, just walk me through what happened first.”

“Fine,” You took a deep breath and put your head up. You positioned your body to face him, trying to speak with confidence. “I got distracted in class and was thinking about…you know…and then I went home. I was so stressed that I just decided to do it, but I couldn’t do it unless…”

“Unless what, Doll?”

That fucking name.

You don’t know if it was from his deep voice. Or from his demanding tone. Or his hand squeezing at the pulse point of your neck, but you whimpered. The smallest and most delicate sound that couldn’t have even been recognized by a high-definition microphone. But Harry heard it, and it made him go absolutely berserk.

“Unless I thought of you.”

“Fuck, Y/N. I’ve corrupted you, huh?” he squeezes your neck again reassuringly as you mewl in his grasp, a little less ashamed than before. “Well, you came all this way…”

“Please, Harry,” You delicately begged, trying not to sound as desperate as you were. Because, fuck, were you desperate. With every simple, warm caress of his hand on your neck you thought you were going to suffocate from holding your breath.

“Take off your shorts.” It was an easy command to follow. Harry’s assertive tone sent chills down your spine and a fiery tingle in the pit of your stomach. The same type of tingle you felt whenever you thought about the bathroom incident. But you were never able to dull the flame alone.

Maybe you weren’t supposed to.

Without another word, Harry’s hand snakes down to your waist joined by his other one as he lifts you up and onto his lap. Your lungs deflate, releasing a shaky breath full of your anticipation. Your legs were on either side of his, spreading you open just enough to feel yourself leak into your panties. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you wait for him to tell you what to do.

“Show me what y’got,” his reassuring hand slips from your waist and rests on the arm of the couch. Your expression falls in disappointment.

“What? I thought you were helping me!”

“This is helping you. I have to see what y’did wrong so I can help you fix it. There’s a method to my madness, love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You rolled your eyes. He’s said that line growing up too many times to count. You used to tell him to shut up every time, but now you’re just immune to his cheekiness. The context was very different now, and that line may never be the same.

“Hey, don’t roll your eyes at me. Do y’want my help or not?”

“Okay, okay!” You assured, your cunt still throbbing against the cotton of your underwear. You swallowed once the playfulness died down, silence surrounding you both. The only thing left was for you to start, which you found extremely embarrassing. “So I just…”

“Do exactly what you did. Walk me through it.”

You took a deep breath before discarding your shirt. You tried not to think about how Harry was looking directly at your body now without the reflection of a mirror. He didn’t hide the way his gaze lingered on specific parts, almost as if he was memorizing each little detail. If you weren’t so hyper focused on remembering what you did and what he told you, you would find it somewhat endearing (and embarrassing).

With trembling hands, you threw off your shirt to tweak at your peaked nipples, just like you had done yesterday. They felt raw and sore between your fingertips. With each twist came a small aftershock of pain, but you only continued to roll the bud. You kind of liked how it hurt a little…

While one hand focused on your breasts, the other began to slide down between your legs. After passing your torso, your fingers slipped underneath the band of your underwear. The pads make contact with your aching clit, just like before, but it was different. When you did it alone, it felt stressful and rushed. But right now, it feels more electrifying and dizzying than before.

Maybe it was because Harry was here and that he was watching you like a hawk. His mere presence was alluring and intensified every touch. His eyes were trained on your every movement, analyzing and critiquing you with those thorn-like pupils. You wanted to know what he was thinking, but you were starting to get too caught up in your own pleasure to care.

“Oh, f-fuck,” You sighed and rocked your hips subconsciously over Harry’s thighs. He sharply inhales, but you don’t register the sound because you’re too busy making your own. You didn’t notice Harry’s growing bulge, merely a few inches away from your dripping cunt.

Your eyelids start to tighten, screwing shut as your thighs quiver. That familiar rush was approaching you fast, and just when you thought it couldn’t come any faster, Harry finally does something. He speaks.

“Almost there already? You are desperate, aren’t you, Doll?” Harry’s tone could pass as pitiful or even taunting as his hand creeps towards your pivoting waist. But the raspy deepness of it is what sends you over the edge. Your fingers squeeze your nipple while your fingers circle your pulsating clit. All of your movements stop as your body overloads, coming down from the much-needed orgasm. Your hand slaps onto his broad shoulder for support as you quietly chant his name with a squirm of your hips. “All the way. There y’go, angel.”

With some labored breathing, you finally peel your eyes open to a smirking Harry. Your skin flushed in sudden embarrassment, realizing your position. You immediately think to move off of him, especially after just coming in your panties, but his hand on your hip keeps a firm grip.

“We’re not done yet. You haven’t even heard my thoughts.”

“…What are your thoughts?” You were a little intimated, which is something you never thought you’d be by your best friend.

You had some thoughts and feelings of your own. Yes, this orgasm was better than the one you did alone. But it was nowhere near as satisfying as the one Harry did for you. Why was that? It internally frustrated you that Harry was so good at what he did, but a small—smidge little speck—of you was proud that your best friend was good in bed. Well, you don’t know about all aspects, but you could assume.

You should not be thinking about that!

And maybe another tiny part of you was glad to be one of the people experiencing his euphoria.

“I thought it was pretty good. Pretty good for your what? Third time? Well, second by yourself. Could use some work,” Harry tried to be as nonchalant as possible. His cock was raging in his shorts, just begging to be let out for some relief. He’s not going to lie and say he hasn’t thought about his best friend in a sexual way since their sexual intercounter because he totally has.

What he hasn’t done is jerk off to you. He refuses to stoop that low because in a way, that made him feel dirty, like he was using you somehow. When he came home from work the day after everything, he had to call up one of the numbers in his phone to help settle his little problem. Okay, yes, that might seem hypocritical, but he doesn’t care about jerking off to random people or using his friendly benefits to get off quickly. That’s exactly what they were for. You, on the other hand, were not for that purpose. You are his best friend who just needs a little… guidance in the sexual field. And luckily, Harry has a lot of experience that he is (for some reason) very willing to share.

You were just about to roll your eyes when Harry’s grip tightened even more as a warning. He just knew you too well.

“I want to try something. Willin’ to try something new?” You felt the pacing of your already quick heart accelerate. Your eyes were wide and full of wonder, innocence draped over you like a bedsheet.

“Yeah. That’s the point of this, right?” Your voice sounded a little hesitant, similar to the way Harry blinked. You swallowed your anxiousness down as Harry nodded.

His hands guide your hips over onto his lap. You instantly get flashbacks from last week, his warm hands stilling your hips and rubbing gentle circles on your burning skin. But this time, he adjusts you so you’re sitting on one of his thighs. Your panties were directly on his athletic shorts and it was comfortable, but you had an urge to be closer. You needed skin to skin contact.

Was that too much? Too far?

“Actually,” As if he could read your mind, “I’m going to pull these up, okay?”

With a nod, he tugs his shorts up, revealing his large tiger tattoo. You nearly forgot he had it. As your eyes fixate on the impressive ink, you find yourself becoming a little dizzy with lust. Not only was the tattoo cool but the placement almost had you fainting. You watched his thigh muscles contract when he shifted his hips, the tiger pulsing and looking like a great seat.

Harry was going to—no did—ruin you…

Next, he pulled you forward, nearly causing you to collapse on him. Now, your covered center is directly on his bare thigh, lightly pressing against his thickness.

“Y’real warm, Doll,” Harry observes, hands subconsciously slotting their way onto that soft spot of your hips. You felt as though they belonged there now. Your skin blushed, heat bubbling inside of you at his comment. You couldn’t help but feel shy with his eyes gazing at your every move. Legs wanting to close, you force yourself to keep them open around his waist. Just like he taught you.

“What do I do now?” You didn't really know what to do with your hands and it was evident. Harry saw this, however, and threw your lonesome hands over his shoulders. His action caused you to lean closer towards him, faces merely a few inches apart. You swallowed, but your throat was dry, and your heart was running a mile in record time. You could feel every breath fall onto your face because you were in such close proximity. You wanted to kiss him badly. It was strange because you’ve never felt such a pull towards him.

“I want you to use me.”

“What?” You blinked.

“Use me. Move your hips on m’thigh until it feels really good.”

“I…I don’t know how,” You admitted, fingers trembling within each other behind his neck. A soft, reassuring smile rests upon his lips, and before he even said anything, you already felt a little better.

“Just move first and I’ll help you as you go. Do you remember what to say if you want to stop?” he asked with gentleness as his hand curled on your hip, kneading it with care. You nodded, but that wasn’t enough. He pinned you with a knowing look.

“Stop is red, yellow is slow down, and green is good.”

“You remembered. Good girl,” The two simple words made you flutter inside and out. But they also motivated you to strive and really be a good girl for him.

You released your interlocked fingers from behind his neck and bared his shoulders. You took a deep, quivering breath before beginning to move over his thigh. It was an awkward motion; circling your panties along his naked thigh while he just took it. At first, it didn’t feel all too pleasurable. The idea of it all seemed great, but you just couldn’t get into it. A small part of you was saddened because Harry had seemed excited.

Had you let him down?

But just before you stopped to complain and whine about it, Harry’s grip on your hip tightened and pulled you forward. Your heart jumped at the action, feeling immense intensity in the proximity. With the slight lean forward, your clit was pressing directly on his thigh creating a perfect friction from your cotton panties.

“O-Oh,” You breathily moaned, finally feeling that strike of pleasure you’ve been waiting for. As your eyes begin to close, Harry never seems to remove his from you, analyzing every speck of your body like you’ll perish any second. His hand remains rigid and still on your hip, forcing you forward so your clit is constantly stimulated.

“Yeah? That feel better?” he asks in that familiar, deep husk that rumbles through your body.

“Yes, H,” Your head leaned on his shoulder, thighs beginning to burn with fatigue. It’s barely been a few minutes yet you were already feeling your leg muscles giving out.

“C’mon, Doll. Don’t give up now.”

“I’m trying,” You whined, picking your head up and pouting at him with a small pant. He stares at your puckered lip and dares to kiss it. Would it be crossing a boundary? All he wants to do is suck on all your words until you have none left and leave a few marks in the process. Is that so hard to want?

“Try harder.”

Harry thrusts his thigh up into you, causing you to gasp in bliss. It was an overwhelming and shocking feeling; a single, hefty dose of pressure right into your clit and cunt. Harry could feel your prominent heat burning through your underwear and searing through his skin. He wanted to rid you of your clothes and ravage you, but you weren’t there yet. He doesn’t know if you’ll ever get there with him, but recently, he’s been dying to get there. The thought has never even wandered his mind before, but now that it is, he can’t seem to get it out. It’s as if you’re trapped in his mind and sex is the only key.

That sounds a lot worse than he thought.

“Oh my God,” Your whimpers flow straight into his ears, playing mind games with him. His cock has been puffing up in his shorts, but he’s not even trying to hide it anymore. There’s no way you’re oblivious to the things you do to him—at least physically.

Harry continues to ram his thigh up, encouraging you to move around. When he feels your body seriously about to give up, he holds you still and forces you to stop.

“Color?”

“Green, but I’m tired.”

“Do y’want to stop?”

“No, Harry, please, just—I really need you to do something. Anything. I’m close,” Your desperate pleads are impossible to reject. With your doe eyes and pouty lip, he doesn’t even hesitate to make all your pain go away.

“Need it that bad?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, Doll. Just stay still,” You obey him with a grateful nod as his thigh begins to rock up into you again. It was so much more euphoric this way—having him move while you just feel. Maybe it was a little selfish, but wasn’t that one of the perks of him teaching you? You just got to feel and learn your body.

You hadn’t thought about that part a lot. This entire ordeal was you learning more about yourself. For years you have deprived yourself and avoided all sexual activity for no other reason than fear. Fear of judgment, fear of awkwardness, fear of trust, fear of vulnerability—sex was a huge thing for you. Now, you’re doing things you never could have imagined yourself doing, and you’re doing them with the last person you’d expect; your best friend. But in the strangest and most bizarre way, you couldn’t see your firsts being held by anyone other than Harry. Would you tell him that? Probably not. That might be taken a different way than you mean, and then drama would ensue and that’s not at all what you want.

But what did you mean by it?

“Are y’close? I can feel you clenching on me,” his voice rasps near your ear, sending a shudder throughout your body. You hum a high-pitched sound, seemingly pleasing him. “‘About to come in y’panties? Never thought you’d do that, huh?”

“Mhm,” You hummed again, this time biting your lip as your stomach churned in pleasure. “Touch me, God, please.”

“Are you saying I’m God? ‘Cause that is a great compliment—”

“You’re such an—” he places his lips on your neck, suckling on the spongy part under your ear. You shiver, shutting up immediately. Every word and thought has left you completely, fizzling into the nonexistent. You don’t know if he put his lips on your neck like this last time, but it made you putty on top of him. “Why does that f-feel so good? Please, Harry, I’m right there.”

“‘Cause I’m doing it. Little baby just needed help s’all. That’s right, huh? Say it. Say you needed my help, baby.” Why his words make you feel the way you feel will forever be an unsolved phenomenon to you. There’s a juxtaposition between pain and pleasure and degradation and praise. When he puts you down, he makes sure to pick you right up again, and it might seem toxic, but it was just Harry, and you knew deep down it was all an act. And you liked that.

“I-I needed you, Harry,” A whine fell from your lips, tearing through your throat.

You liked that none of it was deeply serious and you could be what you wanted without the fear of judgment, fear of awkwardness, fear of trust, fear of vulnerability—everything you needed for comfort was there. It was here with Harry. It might all be some type of act, but it felt real. Realer than any other relationship you’ve had.

“C’mon me, Doll.”

You felt his warm hand travel from one hip to your torso. Just the mere feeling of his presence getting lower towards your center sent you over the edge. It was quite embarrassing how his simple touch was all you needed to be folded and whipped, but you couldn’t help it. You were so sensitive as a beginner and, on top of it all, so needy and greedy for it. Harry adored that though.

Your orgasm soaked through your cotton panties, while some of the residue landed on Harry’s thigh. An ever-growing smirk was plastered on his face as your heated face finally reentered reality. You quietly gasped when your awareness finally slipped through the orgasmic fog, realizing the mess you made.

“Look at tha’, Doll. Was that better for you? More satisfying?”

“Yes. Thank you, Harry,” You answered wearily, suddenly being slapped with post-orgasm fatigue. The lingering burn in your muscles told you that you were going to be sore tomorrow, but you were too blissed-out to care.

“Don’t be so formal. S’weird,” You rolled your eyes at him. Again, he’s great at ruining a sweet moment. Sexual Harry versus friend Harry were two different people, but you appreciated both. It was just the sharp switches he makes between transitions that makes your head spin with confusion. Harry, your friend, was loud and cocky with a mixture of kindness. Harry, your sexual teacher, was demanding and precise with a mixture of softness. Both comforted you in a way that you hoped you would find in a partner one day; he was the perfect example.

Recognizing him this way really put things in perspective for you–Harry really was teaching what you wanted. And like he said before, maybe you didn’t need to worry about a husband right now. You should be focusing on what you want and that might take some experimenting. Training with Harry was preparing you for that experiment phase. That’s exactly it.

When you take a breath, you’re reminded of how compressed you are to him. You’re comfortable and cozy when you’re this close, and it just felt right. You don’t remember if you’ve always felt like this, but it would make sense if you have. He’s your best friend, of course.

But of course, the moment ends way too soon, and Harry is lifting you off of his lap. He places you beside him on the couch before standing up.

“I’ll go start you a bath and get you some clothes,” Harry leaves for the bathroom, the opposite of last time. Based on the last two times, to you it seems like he leaves too quickly. You never get to fully absorb the aftermath and internalize its meaning. But maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe Harry knows that if he allowed you the time, you would overthink until you self-destructed and eventually never speak to him again.

You don’t think you could ever do that.

So, like anything you’ve ever done, you’re left alone to analyze the situation. You were aided when you were desperate and Harry was able to mend that ache. But what did that do for him? What was Harry getting out of this arrangement? Was it even an arrangement or just best friends who occasionally do sexual things? Was he doing all of this for you just because he wanted to show you the ropes?

You’re still well-aware of your lack of reciprocation. Out of the two times he’s helped you out, you haven’t been returning the favor. There is this unspoken understanding that everything is about you and that Harry wouldn’t involve himself because what would that teach you? Without him saying anything, you know that Harry doesn’t want you to think that he’s using you for his own pleasure. But at this point in your friendship, you know he wouldn’t do such a thing. Besides, if he needed to have sex that critically, he could just call someone, right? It’s easy to “get some” when you’ve already had it.

Your point being, why haven’t you offered to return the favor? If you did, maybe Harry could give you some pointers and tell you what to do, just like all of the other times. Not only would you know what feels right and pleasurable, but you’d know how to make your partner feel just as positive. Plus, he would be getting pleasure out of it, too. That sounds like a win-win in your book, and probably in Harry’s. But would that be crossing the unspoken boundaries of your friendship? You’ve already traversed through enough together, but how far was too far? Was he basing the limits off of you?

If so, he won’t mind one more session, right?

—

thank you all so much for being patient with me 🩷 i hope this suffices you! part 3

taglist: @pishhhh20989 @harrysslut7 @kathb59 @chronicallybubbly @clarap23 @mrsstylesss @bisexual-desi @littlenatilda @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle

crossed out= not able to tag

[moonstruckme]

so i read somewhere that sometimes a better response to someone struggling with depression is warmth, rather than positivity and i was thinking if you’d be interested in writing a bau!reader x spencer pre-relationship or established relationship whichever u prefer!! where he comforts a depressed reader having a rougher couple of days & is very gentle and understanding and warm towards her 💘

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: depression

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 638 words

You’ve been completely useless through this whole case. You’d sat with the team during various briefings, gone along to view crime scenes and question witnesses, but your brain just wasn’t working hard enough to put anything together. Lately, the effort of cranking the gears is too much. 

You’re considering leaving the rest of your paperwork for another day. You want to not be here so badly. You want your bed. You want to stop being a burden to the team that’s been carrying your dead weight for the past couple of days (and giving you increasingly inquisitive looks throughout that time), and to go home and sleep the weekend away. 

It’s a testament to your fatigue that you smell the coffee before you hear Spencer approaching. Morgan would hand you your ass if he knew. 

“Thanks,” you say, making an effort to smile at Spencer as he sets the plain ceramic mug on your desk. The coffee inside is barely brown, letting you know that he’s already loaded it down with cream and sugar the way you like. 

“Seems like you might have a long night.” He leans back against your desk and braces his hands on either side of his hips, nodding towards your paperwork. 

You shrug. “I don’t know, I’m thinking of leaving it for Monday. Strauss doesn’t need my report that badly.” 

Spencer nods again. “Are you doing okay?” 

“Yeah.” You blow gently on your coffee, wishing the aroma brought you the same sense of contentment it usually does. “Why?” 

“You never let your paperwork sit overnight,” he says. “And you’re not eating as much, having trouble concentrating, looking tired all the time…” Spencer pauses, meeting your eyes. It’s an effort not to drop your gaze. He sounds like he’s been adding things up for a while. “Do you need anything?” 

You smile again. It feels better this time, more genuine. “I’m just having a tough couple of days,” you tell him. “It happens to me sometimes, it’ll pass. But thank you.” 

Spencer’s face smooths out and pinches all at once. For a profiler, he’s shockingly horrible at controlling his expressions. Or maybe he just doesn’t feel the need to around your team. You read him plain as text: relief at having an identified problem, distress at the lack of an easy solution. 

You know he means well, but you can’t stick around to bear the weight of any more disappointment.

“I think I’m going to head out,” you do your best to sound calm, reassuring, as you gather your bag from beneath your desk. “See you Monday, Spence.” 

“Wait.” You pause, but then Spencer’s falling into step beside you, grabbing his bag to follow you to the exit. “Do you want to come over?” 

You look at him, surprised. “To your place?” 

He nods. “Yeah, there’s a marathon of the Jurassic Park movies on tonight. We could watch them and order pizza, or whatever you want.” 

A little laugh startles out of you. The sensation feels odd and atavistic, like a bubble popping in your chest. “You like Jurassic Park?” 

“I like talking about how unfeasible it is,” Spencer says, pressing the button on the elevator. “Did you know velociraptors were about the size of a large bird?” 

“...I did not.” 

“Probably because you watched Jurassic Park.” He smiles, and you can’t help but copy him. “Really, I’m not attached to the idea of watching them. We can do whatever you want.” 

The inside of your lip finds its way between your teeth, but Spencer glances down and you release it. “I’m not sure I can pass up the opportunity to witness that much berating,” you say. “How many are there?” 

“Six, not including two short films or the animated series.” 

“Will you hold it against me if I fall asleep?” 

“Not at all.”

[awkward-walking-potato]

Hello, I am about a month out of ankle surgery, no cast, no boot, I can proceed with normal activities but sometimes my ankle just throbs with pain. May I request Logan helping a reader with day to day activities that they can’t do the same anymore and helping them with their pain? Like reader is stubborn and upset they can’t do things quite normally yet, they have to work their way to that point and have to be kind to their body.

I hope you get better soon and I hope this can help, I think we all need a wolverine to look after us.

The mission had been straightforward, at least on paper—get in, retrieve the intel, and get out. But things never went quite as planned, especially not with Logan. He was the kind of man who expected the unexpected, and he always came out on top. You, on the other hand, were still learning that sometimes things went sideways, no matter how careful you were.

The night had been long, the tension between you and Logan thick as you navigated through the enemy base. Everything had gone smoothly until it hadn’t. The explosion caught both of you off guard—a misstep, a trip wire you didn’t see in time. The blast sent you flying, and you landed hard, the impact shooting pain up your leg. Logan was on you in seconds, his enhanced senses already picking up the injury before you could even register it fully.

“Damn it, stay down,” Logan growled, his voice rough as he knelt beside you. He took in the sight of your twisted ankle, the way it was already swelling. “You’ve broken your ankle.”

You bit back a groan, trying to push yourself up, but the pain was overwhelming, making your vision swim. “I’m fine,” you lied, stubborn as ever. “We need to keep moving.”

Logan’s grip on your shoulder tightened, forcing you to stay down. “You’re not goin’ anywhere on that ankle. We need to get you outta here, now.”

You wanted to argue, to insist that you could still make it through the mission, but the pain in your ankle was making it hard to think, let alone move. And Logan’s expression left no room for debate. He was in full protective mode, and there was no way you were getting past him.

Reluctantly, you nodded, letting Logan take charge. He scooped you up into his arms without a word, cradling you against his chest as he made his way out of the enemy base. You hated feeling like dead weight, hated that you couldn’t do anything but hold on as Logan carried you to safety. But there was no denying that the pain in your ankle was unbearable, and every movement sent sharp jolts of agony up your leg.

By the time you made it back to the Blackbird, the pain had dulled to a throbbing ache, but it was clear that your ankle was in bad shape. Logan had already radioed ahead to the mansion, and as soon as you landed, you were whisked away to the med bay.

The next few hours were a blur of painkillers and X-rays, the doctor’s voice a steady drone as he explained the extent of your injury. A clean break, but it would require surgery to set the bone properly. You tried to focus, but all you could think about was how useless you felt, how you’d failed the mission and now you were laid up with a broken ankle.

The surgery went smoothly, or so they told you. When you finally woke up, your leg was wrapped in a cast, your ankle immobilized to give the bone time to heal. The doctor gave you a rundown of the recovery process, but all you heard was how long it would be before you could get back to work—weeks, maybe months before you were back to full strength.

The first few days were rough. You were stubborn, refusing to admit how much pain you were in, but Logan saw right through you. He was always there, a silent, gruff presence that kept you grounded. He helped you with everything—getting out of bed, moving around the mansion, even the simplest tasks like getting dressed. It was frustrating, humiliating even, to need so much help, and your stubbornness only made it worse.

“Stop fightin’ me on this,” Logan said one evening, after he caught you trying to hobble to the kitchen on your own. “You need to rest. You’re only gonna make it worse if you keep pushin’ yourself.”

You glared at him, hating how weak and helpless you felt. “I can’t just sit around and do nothing,” you snapped. “I need to be out there, helping.”

Logan crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “You need to heal. That’s your job right now. You ain’t doin’ anyone any favors by pushin’ yourself before you’re ready.”

His words stung, mostly because you knew he was right. But it didn’t make it any easier to accept. You were used to being strong, to handling whatever was thrown at you. Now, you could barely walk on your own, and it felt like your independence had been ripped away.

Logan seemed to sense the turmoil you were going through, because he softened, his voice losing some of its usual gruffness. “I get it. Bein’ laid up like this sucks. But you’re only gonna get better if you take care of yourself.”

You looked away, the frustration bubbling up again. “I just… I hate feeling like this. Like I can’t do anything.”

Logan sighed, stepping closer. “You’re not gonna be like this forever. But you gotta give your body time to heal. And that means takin’ it easy, even when it pisses you off.”

You were quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in. He was right, of course, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating. Still, you knew you had to be kinder to yourself, to your body. Pushing through the pain wasn’t going to help you heal any faster.

“I’m trying,” you said finally, your voice small. “It’s just… hard.”

Logan nodded, his expression softening even more. “I know it is. But you’re tough. You’ll get through this.”

His words were a comfort, a reminder that you weren’t alone in this. Logan was there, and he wasn’t going to let you push yourself too hard. It was a small reassurance, but it made all the difference.

The days passed slowly, each one a test of your patience. Logan was always there, whether you wanted him to be or not, helping you with the things you couldn’t do on your own. He was patient, more patient than you expected, and he never once made you feel like a burden.

One evening, after another frustrating attempt to do something on your own, you finally broke down. The pain, the frustration, the sense of helplessness—it all came crashing down, and you found yourself in tears, sitting on the edge of your bed with your casted leg stretched out in front of you.

Logan was there in an instant, kneeling in front of you with a concerned look on his face. “Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he murmured, his rough voice soothing. “You’re doin’ fine. You’re gonna get through this.”

You shook your head, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I just… I hate this, Logan. I hate not being able to do anything.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “You’re doin’ more than you think. You’re lettin’ yourself heal. That’s the most important thing right now.”

His words broke through the frustration, and you nodded, squeezing his hand. “I just feel so… useless.”

Logan shook his head, his grip on your hand firm but comforting. “You’re not useless. You’re strong. Stronger than you know. You just need to give yourself time.”

You took a shaky breath, the tears slowly subsiding as you leaned into his touch. “I’m trying,” you said again, this time with a little more conviction.

Logan gave you a small, encouraging smile. “That’s all anyone can ask for.”

The days turned into weeks, and slowly, you started to see progress. The pain became more manageable, the swelling in your ankle reduced, and with Logan’s help, you began to regain some of your independence. It wasn’t easy—there were days when the frustration still got the better of you, but Logan was always there, a steady presence that kept you grounded.

As your strength returned, so did your confidence. The exercises the doctor had given you started to pay off, and soon you were able to move around more easily, even if you still needed crutches. Logan was there every step of the way, helping you when you needed it, but also giving you the space to do things on your own when you were ready.

One evening, as you sat together in the mansion’s living room, you looked over at Logan, feeling a swell of gratitude for everything he’d done for you. “Thank you,” you said quietly, your voice sincere. “For everything.”

Logan glanced at you, his expression softening. “Ain’t no need to thank me. I was just doin’ what needed to be done.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the fireplace crackling nearby. “Still, I appreciate it. I couldn’t have gotten through this without you.”

Logan’s eyes softened, and he gave you a small nod. “You’re stronger than you think, kid. But I’m glad I could help.”

You leaned back against the couch, feeling a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in a long time. The road to recovery was still ahead, but with Logan by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges came your way.

And for the first time since the injury, you truly believed that you’d come out the other side stronger, not just in body, but in spirit too.

[hypnagogics]

going to the library with girlfriend ellie.

☆: another random, self indulgent af blurb. i love libraries, and ellie, and drabbles, and writing fluffy things for y'all. this one's definitely not my best work, but i really wanted to put a little something out anyway. there's something so healing about writing fluff.

trek, trek, you hear behind you, as you race through the endless sea of tall shelves, the musty scent of old paper filling your nose. like a machine you scan the aisles, picking up book after book excitedly. you open it, read and decide, yes, this one too! the peace of libraries has always brought you comfort, and hallucinating whilst staring at a dead tree reading has always been your favorite activity. but you’ve run out of things to read which warranted yet another trip to the greatest place on earth. unfortunately for her, you've tasked ellie to be the carrier of all the novels.

"baaaaabe, do you really need this many??" she whines and pouts, as she trails behind you and struggles to keep up.

you turn back to look at her, almost stumbling with a huge stack in her arms which is almost taller than her, it's honestly unbelievable how she hasn't toppled over yet. she frowns at you, earning a chuckle on your part. she's so cute.

"just a little more! you agreed to come with me, els, you knew what you were signing up for. and yes i do need that many, books are my life. books and you, of course."

"but my arms are gonna fall off..." she steadies herself and huffs. "fine, but let's sit down in a few minutes, 'kay?"

grinning widely and and nodding, you take a few of the books from the top to ease the weight, then you skip off happily once more to peruse the shelves, searching for something to grasp your attention, and vaguely convinced you heard ellie tsk-ing behind you. after a bit she goes to sit down on the armchairs in a little corner with a cozy lamp, slumps into the cushions with a grunt, and is relieved she can finally set down the stack she was carrying. you're too absorbed in walking around to notice, but ellie is watching you with a smile from her seat, wondering how in the world she got lucky to have such a curious minded, smart, and loving girlfriend. you meant the world to her. as you scampered around, collecting more and more books, you catch her eye and wave, and her heart just about jumps out of her chest then and there.

when returning to your tired girlfriend, she's keeping herself occupied by checking out the synopses on all the books, with genuine interest.

"i'm back!" you say in a cheery tone, cheeks warming as you add, "may have gone a bit overboard this time, sorry for making you carry it all."

"hey! no, no, i love doing this with you. honest." she smiles warmly back at you, taking half the stack you're carrying in her arms, dividing the entire haul between the two of you. the two of you begin to walk to the desk to check out, until her emerald eyes light up and she remembers, "do they carry comics here?"

"uh, i think so.."

"BE RIGHT BACK-"

she suddenly dashes off with no warning, leaving you with the sighing librarian as she has to take a look to see what they've got.

this little outing turned out better than you had expected. next stop, a hole in the wall cafe for some lunch.

☆: not sure how i feel about this one honestly, but wanted to write a little something. hope y'all still like it! oh also, does the tiny text bother y'all? lemme know and i'll use the regular one, this one's aesthetically pleasing to me, but could be annoying. ellie n her comics own my heart.

[iwasntstable]

♱₊⁺ 𝗡.𝗦. | 𝗔𝗡𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 ❯ 𝗛𝗨𝗠𝗔𝗡

| WORD COUNT: 845 | RATING: SFW | CONTENT TAGS: angst |

𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗜𝗧 𝗛𝗔𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗕𝗘 𝗗𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗡𝗘𝗗, 𝗕𝗨𝗧 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗘 𝗜 𝗪𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗗 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗡 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗢 𝗜𝗧 𝗔𝗡𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡 𝗛𝗨𝗠𝗔𝗡 𝗪𝗘 𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘, 𝗧𝗢 𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘, 𝗧𝗢 𝗚𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗩𝗘 𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗔𝗟𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛 𝗜 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗡𝗘𝗘𝗗𝗘𝗗 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗧𝗢 𝗕𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡 𝗛𝗨𝗠𝗔𝗡

➔𝐢𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞➔➔　𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘷𝘦!+　　[𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝐀𝐎𝟯]

When she started to change, all he could do was watch. They chose to walk down that road together, but deep down, he knew their fate was predetermined. Inevitable footsteps leading towards disaster. No matter how much love he held for her, it would always be incompatible with reality. He tried so hard to fight it, defying the path and desperately holding on to her, but fighting for her turned into fighting her. Tears shed and tender embraces, words softly spoken and promises sealed with kisses, turned into fierce altercations, biting back in anger, things that couldn’t be unsaid, backs turned and promises broken.

Grief had found him early, settling itself into his heart while she was still there. It watched him beg despairingly all the while still holding onto her and stubbornly refusing to let go, carrying her dead weight. It watches his life cease, his hopes and dreams forcefully pushed aside, allowing her to take centre stage. All of his efforts though were a waste, and his precious time was squandered. It watches as words fall upon deaf ears; his family beseeching him to let her go, to unshackle himself in order to live again, but pleading with her to come back to him, to be who she was before. And when he finally accepted it as a part of him—the grief—he knew the last of their finite time was up.

On his knees, he cups her face in his hands, pulling her close and resting his forehead against hers. “I love you,” his voice cracks, his tears falling onto her cheeks. “I love you so fucking much. That’s why I have to do this. I’ve tried so hard, so fucking hard. I’ve put so much on hold to be here for you, and I did it gladly, but it’s clear to me now that I’m not the one you need. I tried to be. But I can’t watch you slip away anymore. Nothing I do is helping, you need real help, someone that can stop you from withering away,” taking in a shuddering breath, he pulls her in closer. She’s limp against him, but he holds her ferociously tight, like she’d slip away if he let go. He knows, after all, that she will slip away when he leaves.

Her head against his chest, his heartbeat is the backing track to his words. Arms so secure around her, she can scarcely breathe. If she died here in his arms, she thinks, she’d die happy. “I’ve been putting you first for so long. You’ve always been my priority, but... you can’t be anymore. It has to be me. I have to let you go,” his breath catches in his throat as he cries into her hair. “I have to live for myself now. And you do too, you have to live for yourself. You have to be yourself again. I never needed you to be anything but you.”

He holds her there, for how long he couldn’t say. Until his legs stiffen and his back aches. Until his tears subside, and finally, he feels he can let her go. He takes one last look at her when he releases her from his arms. Her face betrays no sign of emotion, her eyes, no signs of life, devoid of the light he fell in love with. And he knows he’s making the right decision.

Brushing her hair out of her face for the last time, he tucked it behind her ears like he did on their first date. Like he did when they’d cook together. Like he did when she was engrossed in a book. Like he’d do before he’d lean in to capture her lips with his. He does that one last time too, salt-stained lips brushing against hers; cracked and cold. “I love you,” he whispers, for the final time.

EPILOGUE; The sun was high in the sky when he saw her again.

Her.

As she was.

He prayed the night he left. For the first time in years, he fell to his knees, hands clasped in front of his heart, and he spoke to God. He prayed for her—for her health, for her mind, for her life. He prayed that she’d survive and that He would give her the strength she needed to live. But most of all, he prayed to see her again, if not here on Earth, then on the other side.

Her skin was vibrant and full of life, hair long. Longer than he’d ever seen it. She smiled ear to ear as she spoke on the phone—that very same heart-stopping smile that captivated him all those years ago. She’s just as she was. A familiar warm glow emanated from her, as though pure light itself was radiating from within. Her heart being the power source, or maybe her soul.

He was frozen to the spot, and when she sees him, she too halts as though time had stopped for them both. The only two people in the world, hearts beating in unison.

“Noah?” She smiled at him.

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[taurizzz]

You Got It, pt. 3

Bada Lee x Reader

Synopsis: Y/n wants nothing to do with Bada, but Bada cannot bring herself to let y/n go.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Update: you never wanted to dance again.

Your dancing career lasted all about 12 minutes, but the idea of dance just reminded you of bada and she was the last person you wanted on your mind.

Yet, she was the only one on your mind.

It didn't help that she was blowing up your phone, alternating between texting and calling. Each attempt ending in failure as the look of her name pop up on your phone made you sick to your stomach.

You felt so stupid. Coming to Korea was only supposed to last three months, yet here you are, catching feelings for someone you probably wont ever see again. And to think she liked you.

Little ol' you.

You weren’t like the crowd Bada hung around. You trip over thin air, you aren’t popular, you’re go to university for a practical degree, afraid to try chase your dreams because it’s not financially realistic. You’re just y/n l/n, and you were regular.

An ordinary girl, not made to be with someone of Bada's calibre.

Maybe that’s why you ran away from the party as soon as you saw Bada and Redlic. Deep down inside, you knew that nothing would ever happen between you and the dancer. You had never been one to be unrealistic and to allow yourself to fall into the depths of your fantasies. Your dreams, delusions and true desires were hidden in your soul, unspoken and invisible to those around you. You can’t allow yourself to have false hope, especially when it comes to love.

Bada Lee had been the centre of those desires since the day you met.

And now you find yourself sitting outside your Airbnb, the night before your flight home, with a heavy weighted pressure on your chest and silent pleas to the stars for something good to happen.

You can hear the door leading inside slide open. Expecting it to be Gigi, you don’t bother to look up from your position between your knees, closing your eyes to try forget the past three months.

“Y/n-” that voice isn’t Gigi’s. Your eyes shoot wide open, easily recognising the voice you’ve been hearing every day since that dance class.

“Not now Bada,” you whisper into the dead of the night, keeping you head between your legs like a kicked puppy.

You felt the dancer plop down beside you, gently brushing against you and you couldn’t tell if she had done that on purpose or not. There was no point fretting about it, Bada isn’t yours and will never be.

“Gigi let me in,” Bada started to say, taking a deep breath, “she said you’re leaving tomorrow.”

You lifted your head slightly, to relieve your neck from the discomfort of bending it for long. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the girl beside you.

“You haven’t been picking up my calls-”

“Why should I?” Animosity fills your tone as you interrupt Bada, who just sighs in response. Silence fills the space between you two as neither of you are quite sure on what to say to each other.

Clearing her throat quietly, breaking the awkward synergy between you and her, Bada takes the first step to mending your relationship.

“I’m so sorry for the other night, y/n. I didn’t mean to kiss Redlic, I was drunk and I had been trying to look for you but then she said she needed to talk to me-” Bada stops talking as you finally decide to look at her.

Bada couldn’t help but think you looked so precious with your puffy eyes and red cheeks from the cold. She hated that she was the one who made you feel like this, but she couldn’t be more grateful to be the one with you right now.

As you two stare at each other, a quiet longing shared between your eyes, you whisper for Bada to carry on. So she does.

“I followed her into the room and I asked her what’s wrong,” Bada sighs as she rubs her face with her hands, “Redlic said that she saw the way I looked at you and it wasn’t fair because she’s liked me longer than I’ve even known you, and then she kissed me.”

Your breath hitches slightly as Bada recalls her and Redlic kissing, the memory flashes through your head making your face scrunch in hurt and disgust.

Bada continues, “and then you walked in y/n. I swear, when you did, it was like I had immediately sobered up and knew I fucked up right away. I tried to chase after you but Redlic tried to keep me back, she said I should leave you alone and stay with her but I couldn’t. When I managed to get outside, your Uber was driving away.”

Tears prick your eyes at Bada’s explanation, you didn’t know what this meant for you two. You were leaving tomorrow. Deep in your thoughts, you don’t notice Bada taking one of your hands that were cracking your fingers, something you did when you were nervous, bringing you back to reality.

Staring down at your interlocked hands, you didn’t have the willpower to pull your hand out of the embrace and you simply didn’t want to.

“Bada,” you hoarsely say, “we’re not even together, you don’t need to tell me any of this.”

“That’s the thing y/n, I want us to be together. This past month has been the best month of my life since you came along,” Bada leans into you, your shoulders huddled next to each other.

You shut your eyes, almost in phantom pain. You were confused, why did she have to come here? Why did she want to be with you, knowing you’re leaving? Why did your heart swell when she said those words?

Bada suddenly stands up, pulling you along as she still has a deathly grip on your hand. Letting out yelps of protest, your questions go unanswered as she pulls you out of the house and to her car. You hesitantly climb into the vehicle, eyeing out the taller girl, who just gives you a toothy grin and gets in the car herself.

“Where are we going, Bada?” You ask as she pulls out of your driveway. She doesn’t answer you as she drives along the streets of Seoul, the gently colours inconsistently lighting up her face and you couldn’t help but think she belonged in an art gallery.

As the drive continues, silence settling over you, a hand grips your thigh. You look over at Bada to see she has one hand on the steering wheel while the other is on you, her thumb gently rubbing against your skin.

Why is this happening to me?! You’re frustrated in several ways, not understanding why the universe is doing this to you a day before you return home.

Suddenly, you notice the recognisable sign that has been a repetitive part of your life in the past month.

JustJerk Dance Academy

“You brought me to your studio?” You are so confused, but Bada nods and hurries out the car to open your door.

You whisper a quiet “thank you”, butterflies filling your entire body at the way Bada smiles at you before grabbing your hand, directing you both inside.

As she goes to open the door, she places a hand over your eyes. You yelp in surprise, grabbing Bada’s wrist that’s nearest to your face.

“It’s ok, y/n.” Bada whispers into your ear from behind you. You feel her body against your back and her hot breath on your neck, shivers run down your spine from her closeness to you. “Just trust me.”

You couldn’t help but think, last time I trusted you, you kissed another girl. Yet, you managed to keep your mouth shut as Bada guided you into, what you imagined to be, the studio. You could soft music playing already, and as she uncovers your eyes, you gasp at the sight in front of you.

A picnic blanket is set out in the middle of the floor while candles are spread out surrounding the blanket. Food is placed in the middle, you can see the steam coming from it still. How did Bada do this if she had been with you?

Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, as you find yourself in shock from the gesture. No one had ever done something like this before for you.

Bada, who is still pressed behind you, guides you to sit down on the blanket. And you comply. Utter confusion taking over your senses.

“Bada,” you clear your throat, “what is this?”

Bada sheepishly smiles at you, her face reddening as she sits down across from you. “I wanted to make it up to you, and I know you said we’re not together, but I really like you y/n. I want to spend the rest of my time with you but for now, this will have to do. So please, spend your last night in Seoul with me.”

Of course you couldn’t deny Bada what she wants because you would be denying what you want as well.

The night trickles on, the candles illuminating the room, a romantic ambience flows throughout the room. The whole world seemed to stand still, watching the two girls fall in-love with each other. The stars knew that their journey was going to be tough, but for tonight, their worries ceased to exist.

Bada stands up abruptly as you’re eating some tteokbokki, “dance with me, y/n.”

“I can’t dance,” you whisper, deja vu of the first time you met.

Bada smiles and reaches out her hand that you instinctively take, “you can do anything, y/n.” She leads you to a spot away from the candles, aware of your clumsy tendencies.

Bada’s arms snake around your waist, while yours wrap around her neck. You both begin to sway to the music, you head leaning against her as hers leaning against you. The two of you fit perfectly against each other, as if you were made for each other. The pure synergy between you two is enough to create new worlds as your hearts merge as one. It was a dangerous game that your souls were playing, but fate had different plans for you and Bada.

You raise your head, looking up and into the eyes of the taller girl. Bada, whose heart was beating tremendously fast as she looked into your round, starry eyes, leaned in slightly. It was a soft, slow moment of you both leaning in, stopping just moments away. Staring into each others eyes, you could see the longing and desire within Bada’s soul, so you close the gap between you… physically and figuratively.

Your lips mold perfectly with each other. Her soft lips pressed against yours as she pulled you closer towards her, not planning on letting you go anytime soon.

There weren’t fireworks like the movies describe. It was better. There were promises of a long life spent together, of shared laughter and tears. There were promises of having each other’s backs, of being there for each other when things get tough, of finding the one person who you could share your ugliest moments with.

There was the feeling of finding your soulmate.

As the kiss dissipates, you can’t find the strength to open your eyes but you feel Bada lean her forehead against yours. Her arms are still tightly wrapped around you and you have no plan on moving away either.

The sound of your heartbeats fill your ears, the heavy thumping noise reminding you of the passionate moment that you just had.

Finally opening your eyes, Bada is staring down at you. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought it was love.

And you didn’t know any better.

“Y/n,” Bada whispers, afraid she’ll break the fragile atmosphere surrounding you two, “I think I love you.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to explode from the unexpected confession of the world’s most dangerous feeling. Yet, you’re so ready to confess as well.

“Bada,” you smile at the tall girl in front of you, “I think I love you too.”

You lean your head against Bada, still swaying to the music, reality slowly catching up to you. You were leaving tomorrow, unsure of when you’d be back to Korea. Bada’s whole life is in and has always been in Korea, she can’t just up and leave. The heaviness of the future causes you to pull away from Bada, making the dancer give you a quizzical brow.

“What’s wrong?”

“I leave tomorrow and I’m not sure when I’ll be back, and you can’t leave. You’re entire life is here,” you share your thoughts as you turn your back to Bada, not prepared for her to see the growing sadness on your face.

Arms wrap around you from behind as Bada rests her head on your shoulder, “we’ll make it work, y/n. I’ve finally found the one I want to be with, I’m not letting you go so easily.”

You sigh, leaning against Bada. Uncertainties lie ahead of you both but as long as you had each other, you could defeat even the deadliest enemies.

“Wait for me, Bada. I don’t know when I can come back here, but please, wait for me.”

You can feel Bada’s smile against your skin, her arms tightening around you, pressing you against her as if to say she was already planning on it.

“Yeah, you got it.”

hello everyoneeee,

that was kind of a cluster fuck of a part 3 but oh well!

y/n and bada are definitely going to experience the epic highs and lows of high school football life together, my poor bebiesss heheh

i hope you all enjoyed and are having a great day unlike last part LOL where bada broke our heart :/

i actually really enjoyed writing this part because the way i was imagining bada setting up a picnic like this for me ;-;

anywayssss, hope you’re all have a wonderful day!

lots of love,

j <3

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Escaping Lucien

Lucien Masterlist

Y/N was just starting to stir when she felt it- pressure on her neck, two tiny pinches, then…nothing. Her breath hitched. Her eyes fluttered open and she glanced at her host. Lucien started to drink, and Y/N barely felt it at all. As the seconds ticked by however, she began to feel warm and dizzy.

“S-stop, stop!” she protested weakly.

She tried raising her arm to strike him, but Lucien took it with his free hand and gently set it back down.

Dark spots encroached on her vision, and her struggles started to die down. Only when she felt her body going limp did Lucien detach his mouth from her neck. Y/N stared up at him through glazed, half-lidded eyes that slowly fluttered shut once more.

…

Lucien wiped the excess blood from his chin, licking it from his fingers. He looked down at Y/N. Unlike his servants or those in the village, her blood was intoxicating. Such a fine source of nourishment should not be squandered. She would need to stay here indefinitely. Yes, it would be much safer here.

“Well done, Y/N. Well done.”

…

It was only when a sliver of early morning light filtered through the deep crimson curtains that Y/N woke up once again. She bolted upright in bed. Her clothes had been replaced with silk sleepwear, and there was a soreness on one side of her neck. The memories of last night were hazy, but the alarm bells ringing in her head were loud and clear. She needed to leave, and fast.

Y/N sprang out of bed. She shoved on the closest pair of shoes she could find and threw the door open. She grabbed a brass candelabra, wielding it like a club, and sprinted from the room. She didn’t bother to wonder what had happened to her day clothes or her luggage. Adrenaline pumped through her every vein, making her face a soft red. The manor was enormous, and with so many twists and turns, it was more like a labyrinth.

She just had her hand on the front doorknob when a gentle breeze wisped through. That wouldn’t be frightening if it weren’t for the fact that all the windows were closed with the heavy curtains drawn shut.

Y/N whipped around, brandishing her candelabra. Lucien stood there, a great pair of bat wings sprouting from his back and his eyes glowing in the early morning light. Y/N stood frozen a moment, before tearing the nearest curtain from its rod, letting the entryway flood with sunlight.

Lucien blinked, seemingly unaffected by the bane of his kind. Y/N’s eyes widened; she clutched her weapon tighter.

“You’re causing quite a stir so late,” Lucien remarked, “or rather, so early.”

“Y-you,” Y/N stammered, “you should be dead!”

“Oh, I’ll probably have quite a few burns after this,” Lucien said, squinting against the light, “but I’m afraid Mr. Stoker has misinformed you. A bit of sunlight is not going to turn me into a puff of dust. Though I am a bit hurt that your first instinct was to kill me.”

“You kidnapped me!”

“Strange, I seem to recall you coming to my domain quite willingly.”

“You did something to my head!”

“Hypnosis.”

“And you bit me!”

“Only to get the blood.”

Lucien looked so calm in the midst of this, even a little amused. It enraged and further frightened Y/N.

She fumbled for the doorknob behind her back.

“Ah, now I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” Lucien said, stepping forward.

Y/N found the knob, turned it, and went to push the great oaken door open. It… barely budged. She put all her weight on it, but before she could open it all the way, Lucien yanked her back by the arm, pinning her back against his chest.

“Let me go!” Y/N said, thrashing in his hold.

She did about as much good as a worm on a fisherman’s hook.

“Behave,” Lucien hissed in her ear, “or I will resort to ‘doing something with your head’.”

Lucien picked Y/N up in a bridal carry and started to take her back to the room she had woken up in. He deposited her on the bed.

“If you want to live, then you are not to leave this manor. In fact, it might do well if you didn’t leave this room until I come for you.”

Lucien turned, slamming the door shut. It locked with a gentle but audible click. Y/N sat there for a moment, staring at the door, before jumping up and trying to open it. She banged on the door.

“Let me out!” she shouted.

…

Y/N shouts echoed throughout the halls. Lucien rubbed his temples and turned to his servant.

“Make sure she doesn’t starve,” he said, “and bring up the ointment, I’m going to need it.”

Lucien glided away, the beginnings of angry burns forming on his face and wings.

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[yourjughead]

Attack Dog pt.2

Sweet Pea X Reader enemies to lovers

-------------------------------------

Hey wait up Brass Knuckles” Sweet Pea easily reached you in a light jog. You gritted your teeth to push down the pain of the spasm in your leg at the end of its contractions. You pulled your hood up before returning an arm to your thigh. 

“So I'm not even gonna get a thank you Princess?” You stopped dead, if even to just give your leg a break from your weight. 

“What do you want a fucking medal?” you shot. 

“Listen, from where I'm stood, you need me a lot than I need you right now, so you wanna maybe try another tone? Let me help you home” You just rolled your eyes at him and began to limp along again. Sweet Pea went to put an arm around you to support your weight only to be met with the palms of your hands into his chest pushing him away. 

“Do. Not. Touch. Me.” You snapped. 

“Okay fine, hobble along, maybe I should go back and tell them where you've gone to or who you are?” You stopped again, your leg sending a shot of warning pain down to your toes. You exhaled loudly before stretching out an arm allowing Sweet Pea to pass beneath it and support your weight with his shoulders. 

“What are you even doing out this far this late?” He didn't leave the silence between you stay that long. 

“Trying to sort through my thoughts”

“Yes I hear punching the leaders of gangs is very good for that” you glanced worriedly at him. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean what I said, or is that rain jacket cutting the blood flow to your ears” he threw your early words back at you. 

“I didn't know that's who he was, a weird man grabbed me, it was instinct”

“It's a real shame you hate Serpents so much, that was a very Serpent thing to do” you scoffed at him. 

“Why'd you even help me anyways?” 

“I was in between shifts selling drugs to children” he gave a small laugh and you fought away a smile. You both carried on along the road for awhile without speaking.

“This changes nothing”

“Whatever you say Princess”

“Stop calling me that” 

“Fine, I'll go back to attack dog, seems more fitting now anyways” you didn't care about the pain in your leg, you snatched your arm back from over him and tucked it into your side. Your surroundings started to become more familiar to you as you got closer to the Northside once again. Sweet Pea slowed behind you and you turned, surprised he didn't badger you about not letting him help.

“What?”

“Nothing I just… I just don't like being over there without my friends” Sweet Pea nodded in the direction of where you grew up and you couldn't help but laugh.

“Afraid of the little Northsiders? Very surprising” you teased but he didn't quip back. 

“If anyone asks, you weren't on the Southside alone, I wasn't on the Northside alone, everyone stayed where they're supposed to” you nodded in agreement, happy to forget this night. Your cadence evened as your leg finally relaxed after being electrified. 

“Well….I got it from here, thanks I guess”

“Wow who knew Northsiders had manners?”

“Who knew Serpents even knew the word manners?” He scoffed at you before gesturing for you to keep walking without him.

-

Sweet Pea POV 

Monday morning came around, the junior Serpents were alive with discussions of last Friday night.

“I heard a Ghoulie girl came up and clocked him”

“I heard it was a girl from New York”

“I heard it was his long lost daughter” I buried a smile at my friends and their theories. Thank god no one got a good look at her. Why do I even care? She's so nasty to us. It kept me awake all night. Why did I help her? Why am I still thinking about it? I looked out from my locker to ask Jughead a question to find him staring longingly at YN. I tried not to roll my eyes. Our friends lost in their theories.

“What's up Jones?” 

“Nothing”

“Nah, you're looking at your attack dog more like she's a cuddly Pomeranian” I closed the locker and leaned on it alongside him. 

“She's not like that normally, she just has a lot on her plate” 

“And do you also wanna be on that plate?” Couldn't help myself, he pushed me sideways along the locker smiling.

“Maybe I did once but the way she looks at me now….she hates me”

“No no, she looks at me like she hates me, she looks at you like she's trying to figure out her next move with you. Just give her the time and space to figure it out” his head shot in my direction.

“And you know this because why? You look at her a lot?” If I was being honest I did find my eyes on YN a lot, every class we shared, she was more interesting that whatever the teachers were droning on about. 

“No no, just an observation I made, part of my job to be….. observant” he looked at me like he didn't believe me. I didn't believe me. Lucky for me he didn't speak whatever he was thinking. I took a stolen glance at YN laughing down the hall with her friends. I wish I could make her laugh like that. 

“Right I've had enough, I'm gonna talk to her today, I can't keep going on pretending I don't miss her” 

“Careful Jones, that's not very Serpent of you”

“Yeah…but maybe I don't want to be a Ser-” I cut him off, my temper taking me as I caught his shirt.

“Don't finish that sentence unless you mean it. You're either with us or against us” our friends stopped gossiping and stared at us. I released my grip before pushing off the locker and heading down the hall. I don't like when people use me and my friends. Was he just using us until he got back to here? I met YNs eyes, she saw everything. Good job Sweet Pea I'm sure that'll help the situation. 

-

I sat on the end of bleachers of the football pitch during lunch, the only place I could have a cigarette without a teacher freaking out at me. 

“Yanno that'll kill you?” I turned to find YN sat a little distance from me. 

“Funny, Jones said the same thing about you to me” I hear her give a half-suppressed laugh at me. Not quite the hearty laugh I heard from her this morning but I'll take what I can get.

“What was that with Jughead this morning? Tell him what happened with us on Friday?” 

“Us? Oh no no Princess, you get all the credit for your right hook, all the blame too” I crushed the cigarette into the bleacher before chewing on some gum. 

“You know what I meant” she kept her gaze on the field of football players doing their lunch time training as she spoke. 

“Don't worry I didn't say anything. I was just giving him advice on what you need-”

“-And how the hell would you know what I need!”

“Well I think you need a good fuck cause that's the only thing I think that'll get you to stop being so up tight-” her head shot to me, no longer concerned with who saw us talking.

“-but I settled for the old reliable give her time and space” I watched her chest release the full capacity of air from her lungs before taking another deep breath. She shuffled slightly before zipping up her sweatshirt. Oh shit I was just staring at her chest.

“I didn't…I didn't mean that I want to be the one to….fuck you…I meant …” I didn't know what I meant so I shut myself up and waited for the bleachers to swallow me whole. She scoffed before returning her eyes to the field, watching Archie passing the ball around. 

“I'm not normally like this, I'm just finding it hard to find my feet back here again. So much change here and when I was out moving house every few months the only thing that kept me sane was knowing this place would stay my constant. Now that's changed too” her head dropped down slightly with her lowered tone. 

“I umm I don't know why I just told you that”

“The Serpents are my constant, I know you don't like us but they were the only ones to care about me growing up. I don't like when that's disrespected, that's what the thing with Jughead and I was about this morning” 

“Careful there snake brain, your human side is showing” I grinned at her comment. The lunch bell rang out across the school, sending YN and me our separate ways for the day, the whole interaction not leaving my thoughts for the rest of the week

Part 3

[a-5-m-0-d-3-u-5]

Scar Tissue (Price x Trans Masc! Reader)

Contains: Tooth-rotting fluff, completely SFW, FTM reader intended but should be safe for masc leaning enbies too, 2nd person POV, reader has a singular double mastectomy scar as is very self conscious about it, ambiguous warm drink cuz I don’t like tea or coffee lol, \obnoxiously self indulgent in my opinion but I hope it resonates with others

A/n: Woof I’m nervous but I do really like how this turned out. It’s cute and it even made my partner blush despite him being cis lol also Price is your husband because it’s cute and I said so. Be gentle with this one, yeah?

Although this is safe for all ages, I ask minors please refrain from interacting with me and this post, and any other posts. This is a space for adults.

The night always made things tougher. Something about the quiet, the darkness, the otherwise calm atmosphere made it harder to chase away the more negative thoughts. Insecurities burned hot in the cold of night as you stood outside on the small veranda of your little English apartment in the crisp wintry air to try and chase them away. The rain had only just stopped pouring down in torrents. The sound of wet tires driving below you accompanied the familiar, gentle smell of rain. It was comforting. Not enough to dull the pain, unfortunately, but comforting still.

You didn’t pay attention to the time, doing so usually just stressed you out during these moments, so you hadn’t noticed how late it was until your husband had sidled up behind you with a warm mug he’d made just for you. He handed it to you silently. He learned a long time ago what being outside this long this late at night usually meant. He wrapped a warm arm around your chilled shoulders and gently pulled you against him. Finally, you started to slowly pull away from your negative thinking just long enough to quietly speak.

“Thank you,” was all you could manage, but Price didn’t mind. He knew that for you, your words carried more weight than they seemed on the surface.

He hummed in response, giving your shoulders a small squeeze to say ‘you’re welcome.’

“Doin’ alright?”

A playful glare was all your husband got in return. He was happy to see you at least still had the heart to joke a bit with him.

“Right. Stupid question. Sorry, love.”

Eventually, you’d take a sip from your mug. He always prepared your drinks to your preferences. It made your chest warm.

“Wanna talk about it?” He was looking at you now. That gentle expression always comforted you.

You shook your head and took another slow sip, “Just insecurities again. Nothing major, I’m fine.”

“That why you've been out here on the veranda staring out at nothing the past couple hours?”

You took another sip, electing to say nothing. You did make it extra noisy though, pulling a rumbling chuckle from Price’s chest in the process.

Eventually, he guided you inside. You were as cold as the dead when he’d gotten to you. He wanted to warm you up and, if you’d talk, he wanted to know what was wrong. Knowing it was an insecurity of yours narrowed it down, but not enough to pin it. He needed to know a bit more.

You sat on your small couch, Price quickly following you. He took your hand in his. The callouses that littered his palm and fingers were always grounding. You were certain if you were blindfolded and told to guess which hand belonged to him, you’d guess correctly without fail. You knew every dip and ridge in his skin like your own.

You’d finished your drink after a while. You sighed, leaning into your husband’s chest. His heartbeat never failed to help your mind quiet down a bit.

“Just my scar again…” you mumbled, lacing your fingers in with his.

He kissed his teeth, the clicking noise it made bringing you out of the beginning of another spiral, “What did I tell you ‘bout that, love? You know I think it’s perfect.”

“I know,” you said, tucking your head under his chin, “‘Fraid I don’t think the same way, is all.”

His free hand rose up to hold your head and he pressed a soft lingering kiss into your hair, “That’s why I’m here. To think that way for you. C’mon, then, on your back.”

You groaned, pretending your melancholy face hadn’t broken out into a small grin, as you were guided onto your back. Price hovered above you and lifted your shirt up to your collarbone, kissing slowly up your belly as he did so. His kisses finally reached the part of your chest you couldn’t feel anymore. The scar tissue had faded quite a bit, but it was still clearly visible. One straight line stretched across your ribcage. It was uneven, thicker in some places than others. When your clothes were on, you often forgot about it. But when they weren’t…

You couldn’t feel much of the kisses that your husband trailed across the scar. His beard would drag across the area around it, your body unsure if it tickled or itched, but you could only feel the pressure of his lips through the numb skin. Still, you looked down and watched as he worshiped the ugly line that ripped through your skin. It wasn’t neat, wasn’t typical, wasn’t the ideal, but Price always showed he never cared about that.

”It made you happy, yeah? All that matters, then,” is what he’d always say.

All those mean thoughts finally started to melt away as he continued to kiss along your chest, further up to your collarbone. He pulled your shirt down so he could kiss up your neck, across your jaw, and finally up to your mouth. You felt him grin against your lips. You suppressed an annoyed whine as he pulled away to look at you.

���Better?”

“A bit.”

“I can keep going.”

“Would you?”

You fell asleep on the couch with your shirt pulled up to your shoulders and Price’s lips against your scar.