#i want to get choked by wille’s pink sweater

[mymitochondriaforpresident]

Släy!!

The new power couple!!

[sumluckr]

Mine - body, soul and spirit

Pairing: Park Min-su x Toxic!Manipulative!Reader

Summary: Min Su trusts you completely—so when you whisper that you’re on the pill and beg him to come inside, he believes you without question. By the time he realizes the truth, it’s too late. He’s yours forever.

Warnings: Toxic relationship dynamics, manipulation, deception, pregnancy trapping, explicit smut (dominant reader, submissive Min-su), heavy praise, dirty talk, mild dubcon elements (coercion), aftercare with ulterior motives.

……………………………………………………………………….

Soft-hearted and naive, he always looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, trusting every word you said, believing every promise. He didn’t question you—never had, never would. That was why this plan would work.

The two of you were in his cramped one-room apartment, a small space that smelled like cheap air freshener and the faintest hint of the flowers you just bought for him. You sat on his messy small bed watching him nervously fidget with the hem of his sweater. He was shy, like always, avoiding your gaze, his cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“I-I don’t have much,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wish I could take you somewhere nice, but—”

“Shhh,” you interrupted, tilting his chin up to meet your eyes. “You’re all I need.”

The way his eyes widened, like he wanted so badly to believe you, made you feel drunk with power. Min-su was desperate to be loved, and you were more than willing to use that to your advantage.

You leaned in, brushing your lips over his, a slow and teasing kiss. He whimpered against your mouth, already pliant, already melting. He didn’t push, didn’t demand—Min-su was never the one to take. He only knew how to give.

Your fingers toyed with the hem of his sweater, sliding it up his torso. “Take this off for me, baby.”

He swallowed hard but obeyed, lifting the fabric over his head, revealing the smooth, toned lines of his body. He wasn’t muscular, but he was lean, all soft skin and gentle curves. You pushed him down onto the mattress, straddling him. His breath hitched as you ground against him, feeling the evidence of his arousal beneath you.

“Do you want me?” you murmured, dragging your nails down his bare chest.

“Y-Yeah,” he stammered. “More than anything.”

You smirked, rolling your hips again, making him gasp. “Then let me take care of you.”

Min-su was already trembling beneath you, his breath coming in uneven pants as you trailed your fingers down his torso, nails lightly scratching against his skin. His body was so responsive, so easy to tease, and you loved every second of it.

“You’re such a good boy for me,” you purred, kissing along his jaw. “Always so eager, always so desperate. I bet you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”

His eyes fluttered shut, his entire body burning at your words. He was embarrassed but didn’t deny it. He never denied you.

“You like when I take charge, don’t you?” You dragged your tongue down the side of his neck, feeling his pulse race. “You like being used, being fucked like you belong to me.”

A choked moan escaped his lips. “Y-Yes.”

You smirked, satisfied with his honesty. “Then you’ll be good and let me have what I want, right?”

He nodded quickly, gasping when you reached between you, gripping his cock and stroking him slowly. His thighs twitched, his body arching into your touch.

“God, you’re so sensitive,” you murmured, teasing the tip with your thumb. “You always get like this for me. So hard, so needy.”

He whimpered, hands gripping your waist. “P-Please—”

“Please what?” You leaned down, lips brushing against his. “Use your words, baby.”

His breath was shaky. “Please—please fuck me.”

You grinned, nipping at his bottom lip. “Such a good boy.”

You lined him up with your entrance, teasing him, rubbing the tip along your folds. He was panting beneath you, desperate, his fingers twitching against your skin like he wanted to grab your hips but didn’t dare.

“Beg for it,” you whispered, voice dark with amusement.

Min-su’s eyes widened slightly, his face burning. “I—I need you,” he stammered. “Please. Please let me feel you.”

You finally sank down onto him, slowly, deliberately, letting him feel every inch as he stretched you open. His head fell back, a breathless, broken moan escaping his lips.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, rolling your hips, clenching around him just to hear his reaction. “You always fill me so perfectly, baby. You were made for this, weren’t you?”

His fingers tightened on your hips. “I—I love you,” he whimpered.

You chuckled, leaning down to kiss him, slow and deep, swallowing every desperate sound he made. You started moving, rolling your hips, keeping the pace slow just to drive him crazy.

“Look at you,” you murmured, watching the way his face contorted in pleasure. “Such a mess for me. You love it when I ride you, don’t you?”

He whimpered, nodding quickly. “Y-Yes. It—It feels so good.”

You leaned in, lips brushing against his ear. “That’s because you belong to me.”

Min-su gasped, gripping you tighter, his body already trembling. He was close, you could feel it. His hips were starting to stutter, his moans turning more desperate.

“I—I’m gonna—” His breath hitched, his eyes squeezing shut. “I—ah—I have to pull out—”

You slammed your hips down hard, grinding against him. “No, baby,” you cooed, tightening your grip on his wrists, pinning him down. “You’re staying right here.”

His eyes widened in alarm. “B-But—”

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, voice dripping with sweetness. “I’m on the pill, remember?”

The hesitation in his eyes melted into pleasure as you rode him harder, your walls squeezing around him, pulling him deeper.

“Cum inside me, Min-su,” you whispered, kissing along his jaw. “I want all of it.”

He gasped, his whole body tensing as he spilled inside you, crying out your name, his fingers digging into your waist like he was afraid to let go.

You moaned at the feeling, the warmth spreading inside you, knowing this was exactly what you wanted. You kept rocking your hips, milking every last drop from him, making him twitch beneath you.

When you finally slowed, Min-su was completely wrecked, panting beneath you, his skin damp with sweat. You brushed his hair from his face, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

“You did so well, baby,” you murmured, stroking his cheek. “Such a good boy for me.”

He whimpered, still trying to catch his breath, his body completely spent.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” you praised, pulling him into your arms. “So perfect.”

Min-su sighed, nuzzling closer, his body warm and pliant in your embrace. “I love you,” he mumbled sleepily.

You smiled, pressing another kiss to his forehead. “I know, baby. I know.”

As he drifted off in your arms, completely unaware of what you had just done, you stroked his hair, your lips curling into a slow, satisfied smile.

Got you.

The thought echoed in your mind, settling deep in your bones like the sweetest kind of victory. You could still feel the warmth of his release inside you, the undeniable proof of what had just happened—of what you had made happen. Min-su had been so easy to break down, to manipulate, to lead exactly where you wanted him. And now? Now, he was yours in a way he could never take back.

You had secured him.

He trusted you so completely, so blindly, that he hadn’t even questioned you. He had believed every whispered reassurance, every gentle coo, every soft press of your lips against his temple. He had let you keep him inside, let you take what you wanted, let you claim him in the most permanent way possible.

Your fingers brushed over his cheek, taking in the peaceful, vulnerable way he slept against you. He had no idea. No idea that his life had just changed. No idea that soon, he would be bound to you forever.

Slowly, your hand drifted down to your stomach, rubbing gentle circles over the soft skin, already imagining the life growing inside you. It wasn’t immediate, but the thought made your chest tighten with satisfaction. Soon, there would be something undeniable tying you together—something he could never run from. A little piece of him, of you, fusing together into something neither of you could ignore.

There was no escaping now.

He would stay. He would love you. And when the truth finally came out—when he realized what you had done—it wouldn’t matter. He would never leave. He wouldn’t dare leave.

You had won.

Your fingers pressed into your belly slightly, possessively, your lips curling as you imagined what the future holds for the both of you.

[archived-lore]

This is my theory on @clownpallete’s story - ver 1.0

My theorys is in pink

Key points [not in time order]

[some key points won’t be explored on separately because they are just statements]

There used to be magic

The first king comes back at the end of the story

Taiyō is jealous of Tsuki and Kisuri relationship [may be romantical or platonically]

Taiyō needs help from some group of people, he asks tsuki

Taiyō isn’t the missing king, hes his replacement

Someone is asking Taiyō if “he had fun being someone he’s not”

Taiyō wants to date Tsuki

Taiyō is insecure, possibly paranoid

Expansion [not in time order]

There used to be magic…

When asked how his crowd floats they say ”magic” but also reply with “there used to be a lot of it”

The time I think it went away or disappeared was after the real king was gone and while taiyō was king, the reason for this theory is because of one drawing, Kisuri is trying to use magic but it isn’t working [it makes sense for this to be Kisuri saying this because the text is in rainbow]

The first king comes back at the end of the story…

These pictures will come up later,

Taiyō is jealous of Tsuki and Kisuri relationship [may be romantical or platonically]…

Tsuki and Kisuri may or may not be dating already when the story starts, a drawing states that Taiyō is jealous [severely even] more on why he could be this jealous later.

Taiyō needs help from some group of people, he asks tsuki…

In the drawing tsuki doesn’t look exactly willing to help him, who I think is the people in the kingdom revolving against him, or maybe its just paranoia,which could also be a answer on why Tsuki doesn’t want to help.

My paranoia theory comes from this drawing, that has him saying the crowd around him is evil and stand alone eyes and scribbled out faces/heads being a sign of paranoia/insanity

I also know that isn’t from him being bullied but from after becoming king due to his crown, this could also be a drawing of what he felt like right before the other one

Someone is asking Taiyō if “he had fun being someone he’s not”…

The person is the first king,so far we only know 4 characters, and two of them have the same/ similar sweaters on [the missing king and Kisuri], and it makes no sense for Kisuri say something like that , from a moral standpoint and reasoning standpoint. So that leaves the king, he has actual reason too, as I believe that taiyō hasn’t been the nicest to the people of the kingdom, or maybe hes just upset that he got replaced-

In both taiyō looks nervous and “scared/worried” the creator of the blog said taiyō is nicer in the ask blog then in the story, so what if it wasn’t only them? What if it was the king, because in a different drawing he is choking taiyō [was drawn in a playful manner but it may have been a watered down version]

I really am proud of this, and I hope you liked reading the bit that I did get done, when I complete it fully i'll repost it fully, thank you for getting this far.

[kechiwrites]

not quite heart-shaped

simon “ghost” riley x medic!reader

synopsis: you and simon both have the 14th off, and by god you were going to make the most of it. pt. 4/?

wc: 2.3k

cw: afab + fem!reader, fluff, banter, cunnilingus, fingering, teasing, very light breeding kink, femme pet name (princess), no use of y/n ever.

an: the return of medic reader, special thanks to @weebitofaslag who with a single comment reignited my love for their dynamic. babes all my knowledge of the military comes from romance novels, mw2 campaign and my fleeting contact with the canadian armed forces. so like if i get something wrong…don’t tell me. happy valentines day!

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3

"Three." The tense quiet of the bedroom is disrupted by your offer. 

Ghost stands in front of you, and despite his crossed arms his posture is deceptively casual.

He scoffs at your pitch. The standoff is common for the two of you. Basically foreplay at this point. Pretending to be irritated and annoyed with each other until you're basically begging to rip each other's clothes off.

"No way." He grunts, but doesn't provide a number of his own.

You can't keep the disbelief out of your tone.

"Less than three, Simon? You're losing your touch!"

That does get a rise out of him and he stops leaning against the bathroom door frame.

"More than three. Anything less than five is a waste of both of our days off. But you knew that, didn't you, princess?"

"I don't know if I have five in me to give, honestly." You choke out, already tugging off the sweater you wore. 

"If I'm eating you out, I'm spending the day down there." He huffs. 

You're breathless when you finally respond, your cool and collected demeanour crumbling in the wake of his assertion.

"Yeah okay, that's fine, but wanting to fuck me after? I may not even be conscious." When he doesn’t respond, you gasp dramatically, like a soap opera lead discovering a villain’s plot. "Maybe that's what you want! Simon! Who knew you were so depraved?" It’s easy to be silly with him lately, even more so when you’re both free of the oppressive air of the base you’re both stationed at.

"Get on the bed or get out of my house." His shirt’s already off, and it’s oh so hard to stay on the task of mocking him when the cut muscle and little bit of fat on his torso shine under the room’s low light. With the mask still on, and the dark fabric of his pants obscuring his bottom half, he makes quite the sight. The pale, wide expanse of his chest, only broken up by tattoos and healed, pink scars and sandy, blond chest hair makes your mouth water. He steps towards you, hooking the thumb under the mask and pulling it up. It feels as though the cloth is moving in slow motion, your heart beating loud and erratic with anticipation. When he stops so it rests on his nose, you exhale, not quite disappointed, but you sure as hell aren’t relieved. 

“Sex in a bed?” You question facetiously, willing your brain to revert back to being a little shit. You know he can’t stand when you're being a brat, it reminds him of just how easily he’d lost control, just how messily he’d fucked you the first time, but around Simon you just can't seem to stop yourself, “You're spoiling me.” You lay back on the bed as ordered, contorting your arms to shimmy out of your bra, then your bottoms, tugging your underwear along with them. Not a thong this time, a fact that seems to disappoint Simon when he notices your regular boyshort panties entangled in your discarded sweatpants. 

“Yeah, don't get used to it, I'm just tired of the smell of antiseptic.” He mutters, kicking your discarded clothes off to the side.

You snort derisively, spreading your legs so he can lay between them, allowing for him to brush the petal soft skin of his lips against your hip, your thigh, just above your knee. “Ladies and gentlemen, the last true romantic.” You mumble, patting the top of his head, lamenting your inability to card your fingers through his fine blonde hair. 

Your entire body jolts when his tongue comes in contact with your clit, a full body shiver alerting Ghost to just how badly you'd needed this. He hasn't shaved and his stubble scrapes the soft skin of your inner thighs, forcing a jolt up your spine, shuddering breaths escaping your lungs as his mouth gets better acquainted with the lips of your cunt. 

He drags his tongue over you in your entirety, taking special interest in the skin just below your entrance, he stays there, skimming, sucking, licking, until you're worried he'll manage to give you a hickey there, on your fucking taint. He has you dripping with his spit and your own slick, and the sound when he returns to your clit is obscene. He brings both hands up towards your abdomen, but neither continues the course to where you want them, on top of your chest, plucking at your nipples, or even around your throat, obstructing your airway. Instead, Simon's left hand pushes down on your abdomen, and his right gently shifts the hood of your clit up so he can abuse it better. 

All the soldiers in all the world and you had to hook up with the one who eats pussy like that?

"Fuck." You wince, and you twitch away from him as best you can, which only makes him suck harder, like he’s giving you ‘two for flinching’. You groan loud and unashamed, assured by the privacy afforded by not fucking on base for once. Your toes curl and relax over and over, the periodic tremble of your hips against his mouth has him holding you down as best he can, determined to pull more sounds from your wide open mouth. Your whole body tenses and you let out a litany of curses only disrupted by stutters of his name, all while you clench around nothing. He’s mumbling into you as you come, but whatever he’s saying ultimately doesn’t fucking matter when the vibrations of his voice make you want to cry or scream or kick Simon in his stupid masked face.

There's barely any hangtime between your orgasm shuttering through you and Simon circling his arms around your thighs before he tongue fucks you mercilessly, letting the tip of the muscle broach your entrance while he drags the edge of his teeth over the still buzzing flesh of your labia. He hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls you onto his face, until you get with the program and begin rolling your hips, pressing your clit against the bridge and tip of his nose, allowing his tongue to push deeper within you. 

Your body is already dripping its satisfaction all over his chin, and this time with breath barely in your lungs it takes longer for him to get you into a place of desperation again. But by God, does Simon Riley get you there. This time he takes a break from the constant contact between your cunt and his tongue to slip one of his thumbs into your entrance, fucking you with slow and deliberate strokes, like a promise of what he’ll do to you later when he finally fucks you. Long, greedy swipes of his tongue jar your brain like a hit to the head. You try to struggle away, levering up with your arms before he tugs you down again like a fucking ragdoll, like you trying not to lose your fucking mind is a slight inconvenience to him. He lays wet, panting, open mouth kisses over the pulsing heat of your cunt, and when you you raise your head to - fuck you don’t know - curse his entire bloodline, you can see he’s helplessly grinding his hips into the mattress, seeking some sort of friction while he tongues at your folds, while you soak him to the knuckle. It’s hot, hotter than it has any right to be and you flop back down, turning your head into his pillow to muffle your moans. Old habits and all that. Unfortunately, the pillow is steeped in Simon’s scent, and your eyelids drift closed when you inhale deeply. Your breath stalls and you ride out yet another climax on his tongue, this time very grateful for the way he fingers you through it, even if his thumb isn’t nearly big enough. The bed beneath you bears the brunt of your orgasm this time, damp sheets attesting to your fervent enjoyment. 

“What a mess you’ve made.” He speaks, once you stop huffing, voice disturbingly even, like he didn’t just factory reset your body. Which is…incredibly irritating.

“You know technically as a doctor I outrank you.” You snip, nose in the air. 

“So?” He lifts his head, but his eyes are still locked between your legs, not quite able to decide if he wants to move from where he is so clearly comfortable.

“So…” you mock him, squeezing your thighs around his neck, until his stare is redirected to your face. “you should be fucking nice to me, asshole.” He digs his thumbs into the back of your knees, until you release him. Slowly, he drags himself up, over your body until he can lay on his back next to you. 

“You know, I really should have finished inside you that first time. Knocked you up and had you taken off base.” And wouldn’t that have been a fun conversation for you to have with your CO. ‘I’m so sorry ma’am, he wears a mask and has big hands and knows my kinks. I had no choice, ma’am.’

“Stop talking or I’m gonna sit on your dick.” You whisper, shutting your eyes against the harsh beam of the light overhead. Your heart rate is finally starting to settle, and you’re grateful for the moment of reprieve, the few moments he gives for you to stitch your mind back together, to regain purposeful use of the human language. 

Shoulder to shoulder in his bed, and no longer occupied with singing Simon’s praises, your mind begins to harmlessly wander, unhelpfully cataloguing that you aren’t even halfway through what he’s planned for you. You also start to filter through your responsibilities due in the coming days. It’s automatic at this point, a system you developed during school, when papers and projects and your social life all constantly contradicted each other. You’d come, at the hands of yourself or someone else, and your orgasm cleared brain began building a calendar. Nothing today, of course, you’d cleared your schedule and no one had questioned why. Most people wouldn’t question anyone taking off Valentines.

The “holiday” never really stuck out to you in the past, for one reason or another. Work, med school, family stuff, hell sometimes you just didn’t fucking feel like it. But this year, today, you can’t help yourself. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Simon.” You puff, keeping your eyes trained on the ceiling, letting your brain make patterns out of the popcorn ceiling.

“Ah,” he vocalizes, voice gruff. “Right.” he shifts in his bed, and you figure you’ve got about 30 seconds before he gives you the dusty combat boot. Your face burns with embarrassment, why the fuck did you say that? When did he ever give you even the slightest inclination he gave a shit about some overblown, capitalistic, aggrandized-

“Here.” A bag of jellybeans is unceremoniously plopped onto your bare chest, right between your tits. 

“Where were you hiding these?” You gawp, struggling to string together a sentence as you examine the bag of colourful candies. It has a bow on it. You finger the pre-tied ribbon, stuck on with an adhesive pad.

“Under the bed.” He grunts, rubbing at his eyes and the bridge of his nose, like he’s fending off a headache, but you think he may just be embarrassed, if the pink tips of his ears are anything to go by. 

“This is sweet.” You choke out, and you have to sink your teeth into your already swollen lower lip to stop from giggling hysterically. “Thank you, Simon.”

“Mng.” He makes the noise in his throat, forgoing the English language for the easy comfort of grunts, watching you tear the bag open and chew on a handful of the brightly coloured beans. All at once, like some kind of animal. The flavours don’t quite go together, strawberry and buttered popcorn and root beer. Others you can’t even begin to pin down. But you're too frazzled to eat them how you usually would, your favourites first, then making combinations with whatever’s left, guided by the suggestions on the back of the bag. And ultimately, it’s not altogether too unpleasant. It works, in a fucked up, saccharine sweet kind of way. Kind of like you and-

“Alright, put it away.” He rasps, turning over to cover you with his weight once more, sliding down to get started on orgasm three. 

He plucks the bag out of your hands and drops it on the nightstand near you, devoid of any knick knacks or photographs, just a beat up 70s style alarm clock that acts as a pedestal for your candy.

“My beans!” You shout, trying in vain to secure the confection for further enjoyment. You give up your fruitless endeavour when Simon sinks his teeth into the flesh of your breast on his way back down to your pussy. 

“I didn’t get you anything.” You moan, pressing the cool palms of your hands to your overheated face, soothing the mix of embarrassment and giddiness stirring in your mind.

“I’ll live.” He grouses, bending your knees, holding your thighs up and together with both palms at the back of your knees. You can’t see his face. Have never seen the whole thing, but you’d bet all the jellybeans in the fucking world, that Simon Riley’s cheeks are pink.

the beans were soap’s idea for sure. poor guy’s definitely heard them fucking more than once. support city girls, reblog what u like. happy valentines.

[97-liners]

best friend hoshi x fem reader

words: 2k

warnings: smut! minors do not interact! fingering, oral sex, fem receiving. mid-sex banter.

paging: @neonun-au @husbandhoshi

“i think i could do it,” soonyoung says, over-eager and a bit too loud. “i think i could make you squirt. i read an article on it once.”

this, of course, does nothing to assuage the flashing red alarms going off in your head. you bury your face in your hands, willing your blood to return to your brain. what’s wrong with me, you think. you had everything under control last night. you had everything under control fifteen minutes ago.

fifteen minutes ago was when you had accidentally let slip to your best friend that none of your exes have ever given you an orgasm.

(three months after a breakup might be too long for you to be justified in being upset by an instagram story of your ex-boyfriend with his new girlfriend, but last night, one of your other friends had sent a screenshot of the girl’s private account where she had been celebrating their six month anniversary. and that’s when you had shown up at soonyoung’s place with two bottles of wine and a frozen pizza. now, twelve hours later, it’s mid-morning and the two of you are still in bed, nursing hangovers with instant coffee and cold leftovers.)

“soonyoung, please,” you groan, “are you still drunk?”

“i’m sober, i’m sober!” he puts his hands up in a show of innocence. “but the offer’s on the table.”

you consider it for a moment, which is clearly a mistake, because the moment you imagine soonyoung between your legs, looking up at you with his bright eyes, you can’t get the image out of your head. “i thought we were going to do normal breakup things. you know, get my belly button pierced, eat an entire ice cream cake, the like. not—“ your throat closes up and you choke on the next word, “sex!”

“this is a normal breakup thing,” soonyoung argues, “i’m being a good friend, and you’ve been deprived.” you give him an incredulous look. “and,” he adds, “i read an article on how to make someone squirt, so i think i’ve got what it takes.”

soonyoung waggles his fingers, and you almost throw the pizza crust in your hand at his face. “i don’t think you’re waterproof, or have ten levels of vibration,” you say.

“maybe if i drink enough coffee—“

“no,” you interrupt. then, unbidden, the image comes to mind of his broad shoulders under your thighs, the muscular arms that you know he’s been working on, the abs that he hides under his comfortable hoodies and oversized sweaters, his plush lips, his pink tongue— “okay, fine,” you say quickly before you can change your mind.

“what?” soonyoung blinks at you.

“it’s almost like you want me to change my mind,” you grouse, putting your food on the nightstand and wiping your hands off on a crumpled paper towel.

“wait, no, dude,” soonyoung scrambles to his knees, putting his paper plate on top of the chair by his bed, where it balances precariously on top of a stack of sloppily folded pants. “you won’t regret it, i promise.” his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are wide. soonyoung looks way too excited, like you had just offered him free candy.

there’s a logical part of your brain, the part that has coherent thoughts and makes good decisions, and then there’s the other overwhelming part of your brain that doesn’t.

“hold on, i’ll go get a towel to lay down,” soonyoung grins, rolling off his bed and scrambling to his bathroom, and you roll your eyes as you lean back against the overfluffed pillows propped up against the headboard and lift your hips to shimmy off your pajama pants and panties, leaving you only in the oversized sweatshirt that you had borrowed from soonyoung last night after spilling half a glass of wine on your own pajama shirt.

“don’t get ahead of yourself, i can’t even cum during sex, what makes you think you can make me squirt?”

“don’t underestimate the power of the tiger,” soonyoung says, emerging from the bathroom with a fresh fluffy towel. when he sees you, he stops in his tracks, freezing in place with the towel held uselessly in his hands. you watch as his eyes grow as round as saucers and his mouth falls open in a soft “oh” as he stares, drinking in the sight. you suppress the hot itch that spreads across your skin as he stands there, his gaze traveling up your bare legs bent loosely at the knee, held open just enough for him to see your pussy. you’re already wet, you realize with a dizzying rush.

this is so weird, you think to yourself. soonyoung is your best friend. he’s been your buddy, your pal, through the awkward years of high school, through late nights in college, through failed dates and terrible exes, and now you’re sitting on his bed, legs spread, naked from the waist down. you make a soft half-strangled noise from your throat and start to bring your knees together, but soonyoung is already climbing onto the bed, arms reaching out. “wait,” he breathes, kneeling in front of you, hands held in the air almost reverently. “can i?”

you bite your lip. your best friend, kwon soonyoung, who you’re about to hook up with, looks at you with those lovely glittery eyes of his. “okay, yeah,” you nod.

soonyoung drops the towel and crawls forward, setting a hand on your knee, and you suppress a shiver at the jolt of electricity that spreads from his touch. he looks absolutely entranced. you let your head drop back against the pillows when you feel his hot breath against your inner thigh, his palms sliding up the backs of your legs to pry them apart ever so slightly. he presses a wet kiss against the soft flesh on your thigh, and you close your eyes and fist your hands in the sheets on either side of you, exhaling shakily as he licks and kisses the skin right under your hip. when you feel his finger lightly running down your folds, gathering your arousal on his fingertip, you bite down on your lip to keep from squeaking out loud.

it drives you crazy, the barely-there touches, the feather-light breaths. you need him so bad, it hurts. “soonyoung,” you gasp, hand held over your face, “don’t tease, please.”

maybe he’s looking up at you with his mind blank, mouth slack. maybe his forehead is creased in concentration. you don’t know, because all you can do is stare at the ceiling as he dips his finger between your slick, embarrassingly wet folds, and slowly slides inside you. he fingers you carefully, making sure you’re comfortable before pulling his hand back and replacing the emptiness with two fingers.

you gasp, throwing your arm over your eyes, when you feel him start to move his hand. “oh, fuck.” it’s not a painful stretch by any means, but his fingers fit just snugly enough to suck the air from your lungs and send heat jolting up your spine. “more, more,” you pant, squeezing your eyelids shut under your sleeve.

soonyoung doesn’t quicken his pace, but he does press the pads of his fingers upward, swiping against the tight walls of your cunt, searching, and then suddenly you yelp, back arching off the mattress as white hot pleasure coils in the pit of your belly.

“fuck,” you hear him groan, and then he’s thrusting his fingers in you with renewed vigor, carefully angling his hand so that each pass hits the spot that makes your mind fill with fuzzy static. there’s a shift in the mattress, and then he’s holding your hips still with his other hand, prying your thighs apart with his arms as he fucks you open on his hand.

you’re not sure what noises you’re making, because you can hear your heart pounding in your head. you whimper— you’re so close, it hurts. right there, right at the edge, but never quite in reach. “please,” you hear yourself gasping, nearly incoherent, “please, please, please,” but soonyoung slows to a stop.

breath ragged, you lower your arm, uncovering your face to look down at him, still dizzy with pleasure.

soonyoung winces. “sorry,” he mumbles, “my arm cramped up.”

you flop back down on the pillows, boneless and unbearably horny. you were so close, so close you could almost taste it. “‘s okay,” you say, staring up at the ceiling. you’re still so wet, you feel yourself gushing around the two fingers still knuckle-deep inside you.

“sorry, i think i need more electrolytes,” soonyoung says.

“you’re fine,” you tell him.

“i swear, i’ve fingered people before—“

“i know, i know,” you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration.

“i’m sorry, i’m pretty sure this is right,” he blabbers, “maybe i should check the article again? hold on, where’d my phone go?”

“definitely don’t do that,” you cut him off. “look, soonyoung, you’re my best friend and i love you, but the longer you talk, the less turned on i am.”

“oh,” he pouts, “um.”

“look, i’ll give you a pep talk and hype you up later, but can we do this when you don’t have your fingers inside me?” you root around your head for ideas, and return with the obvious next step. “come on, soonyoung, why don’t you use your mouth for something more productive?”

soonyoung stares at you for half a moment before realization dawns on his face. “ohhh,” he breathes. “would it be weird if i gave you head? no, right?”

“please, soonyoung, just get me off,” you reply, voice edging on desperation, “anything.”

“o-okay,” somehow he flushes even pinker than he already is. you’re still looking at him when he crooks his fingers inside you and makes you gasp, mouth falling open, and you hate the way he grins.

soonyoung settles between his legs, fingers slowly moving in and out of your dripping cunt, and you feel his hot breath against you, making you shiver in anticipation.

when soonyoung’s tongue presses against your clit, you almost scream. instead, your exhale comes out in a strangled moan and your hips buck up instinctually, desperate for more. his lips close around the hood of your clit and he laps at you, drinking you up like he’s starving.

“god, yes, please,” your lips form the words incoherently as soonyoung works you, holding your thighs open, filling the room with the obscene sounds of his fingers thrusting in and out of your dripping cunt and his mouth sucking wetly at your clit, mingled in with your broken cries.

“fuck, ohgod—“ you squeeze your eyes shut as something tugs and snaps inside you, filling your whole world with white hot blinding pleasure. it crashes on you in waves, more intense than you expected, and you feel yourself clench down on his hand, back arching and hips canting up into him as you ride it out.

piece by piece, the world rematerializes around you and the ringing in your ears subsides. you blink, chest heaving as you pull in lungfuls of air to clear your head. your throat feels raw and you realize belatedly that soonyoung’s apartment walls aren’t the thickest.

you look down. soonyoung stares at you with wide eyes. “did you just—“

“that was the hardest i came in my life,” you pant, propping yourself up on your elbows. “fuck.”

soonyoung, however, pouts. “but you didn’t squirt.”

you raise your eyebrows at him. “are you kidding me? you just gave me the best orgasm of my life, and you’re hyperfixated on the squirting thing?”

“but the article said that anybody can squirt,” he says still pouting.

“it’s okay,” you sit up, thighs still trembling, “there’s always next time.”

soonyoung visibly brightens. “next time?”

“yes, next time,” you reassure him. “but if you don’t fuck me right now, i think i’ll die, and then there won’t be a next time.”

“i’ll hold you to that,” soonyoung grins, pulling his shirt over his head. “next time.”

[foolishpensandidioticink]

Harry Potter Characters + Love Languages II

Part I

Neville Longbottom

Expressing

Acts of Service

Neville is always willing to put himself out for others, as we see when he helps Harry out during the third task.

Neville's grandmother was never one for physical affection or particularly kind words either, so I think that the language Neville has had the most experience with is acts of service.

For Neville, love is making sure you're always fed and never, ever cold.

Best believe this guy gives you all his sweaters. Those lovely cable knit ones too.

Very shy when it comes to giving compliments, but he's always thinking adoring thoughts.

"Neville," you gasp. "You didn't." You look up from the box in your lap in utter amazement. "Your favorite sweater? The one your Nan knit by hand?" He ducks his dark head, avoiding your eyes. "Well," he says. "Well. I know- I know you really like it. And I've got loads. Of sweaters, that is. I've got loads. So I want you to have it. Happy Birthday." You're silent. Neville's cheeks are reddening rapidly. "There's a scarf. I- I've been practicing my crocheting." When you don't reply, he rambles on, "I know it isn't much, but I thought you'd like it, so I-" "Neville Longbottom, you are the greatest partner on earth," you announce solemnly, and then launch yourself at him. "Oh," he murmurs into the kiss. "Oh, alright."

Receiving

Words of Affirmation

Neville struggles a lot with self esteem, and like I said, his Nan doesn't seem as if she was very verbally affectionate.

A partner who is constantly telling him how valuable he is would be amazing for him.

He wouldn't believe you at first. He finds it really hard to accept the fact that anyone could think highly of him, hell, he can hardly believe you're dating him in the first place.

After you've been together a while, he knows that you mean every word you say and it flusters him even more.

He also gets very bashful during physical contact. I'm talking stuttering, physically CANNOT look you in the eye, hands trembling, ears RED

It takes him quite a while to be comfortable with touch, but if you're patient with him, he'll come to really enjoy it.

Once he does, he loves holding your hand. It just makes him feel so safe. Even linking your pinkies is enough.

"You're so cute," you murmur idly. You're sitting on a couch in the common room together, holding hands as Neville reads. He chokes on air. "What?" His fern-colored eyes are stretched wide, his mouth is slightly ajar, and the tips of his ears are beginning to go pink. He looks slightly scandalized. "I said," you repeat, with a grin on your face, "You're adorable." His eyes dart from side to side, as though he thinks you might be talking to someone else. "I-well. Me?" he asks weakly. You laugh outright. "You. You and no one else, Neville."

Cedric Diggory

Expressing

Physical Touch

His father is very affectionate with him, so it just comes naturally.

He's very respectful about it though. He'll grab you in a tight hug and then pull back to ask if it's alright with you.

Cedric uses kisses as currency. By this I mean that if you upset him slightly, he'll insist on a cheek kiss to make up for it. You ditched a class without him? Kiss on the cheek. You stole his food? He doesn't mind, as long as you kiss his cheek.

Schedules study sessions for the two of you. He brings lots of snacks and water to keep you hydrated. He's a very patient tutor and rewards you with a kiss when you focus.

Cedric loves it when you lay on him.

"Merlin's beard, Cedric," you exclaim. "I thought you were half decent at quidditch." Cedric is stretched out on a cot in the hospital wing, with a cast on his left arm. Lying so still, he looks dead, vampiric. For a few seconds your heart stops, and then he winces playfully up at you, and the illusion is broken. "Ouch. Words hurt, you know." "Bet they don't hurt as much as flying directly into a bludger," you retort. "Nothing does, I suppose," Cedric grimaces. Then he looks up with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Are you going to kiss it better?" You stare. "Cedric Diggory, you have broken your arm. You have a broken arm and you want me to kiss it better?" He nods, honey-colored hair falling over his brow. "Pretty please?"

Receiving

Quality Time

Cedric is very busy most of the time, what with prefect duties. quidditch, and trying to keep up with his grades. If you make an effort to spend time with him against his oppressive schedule, he will be head over heels for you.

Please, please, please go on walks together. Cedric knows a ridiculous amount about any animal you could come across, and with him, every walk is a nature walk. He's the kind of guy to follow an ant to make sure it gets safely back to its hill.

If you go to his games, you'd better believe he's going to do his very best to give you a win. The fact that you're supporting him is almost euphoric, and he can't help but apply the adrenaline to chasing the snitch.

"Diggory dives for the snitch, he misses, he HANGS OFF HIS BLOODY BROOM, HE'S GOT IT, THE MAD LAD'S GOT THE SNITCH, AND HUFFLEPUFF WINS!" Lee Jordan screams into the microphone. "RAVENCLAW, HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LOSE TO A TWINK?" Cedric's jubilant expression drops visibly, and you burst into laughter. You move down the stands towards him. "Good game, twink," you greet him, throwing your arms around his neck. "Oh, not you too," he sighs, looking down at you with mock sadness in his golden brown eyes. "And here I was about to thank you for the victory." "Thank me? Whatever for? That was all you, Ced," you protest. Cedric pulls back to look you solemnly in the eye. "Thanks for showing up. You made me want to win, for you. That energy? That win? It was for you."

[smileysuh]

ValentineJae97 : Jaehyun

🌙 staring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader

🔮 synopsis. Jae makes you regret not coming to see him earlier for your cam show.

cw/ tw. cam sex,dom/jealous/competitive Jaehyun, choking, overstimulation, oral (m/f receiving), face fucking, fingering, biting/marking, petnames, daddy count (2), submissive reader, 'fucked you stupid’, begging/worship kink, etc...

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 5.2k

🍭 aus. cam girl reader, poly idols, idols sharing a fuck buddy, dirty boy idols, etc...

☀️ mlist + an. camroom directory here - this series is covered in audio by the Kpop Pillow Talk podcast, listen here

“Hey pretty boy.” You smirk when Jaehyun opens the door to the dorms. He looks gorgeous, hair a soft pink color and his eyes dark, as if he’s just woken up. Jaehyun flashes you a smirk, dimples on show, and pulls you inside by your hips, planting his lips on yours immediately.

You kiss him back, enjoying the warmth of his mouth and palms, that sneak under your jacket to touch your bare waist. “You’re cold,” he says against your lips, pulling back and kissing your equally cold nose. He towers over you, helping push your jacket off your shoulders.

“It’s cold outside,” you breathe, eagerly kissing him again, arms wrapping around the back of his neck as Jaehyun’s foot closes the door behind you both.

You don’t mind the mess of your things left on the floor; jacket bag- Jaehyun had sent you a text an hour ago: “dorms empty”

No punctuation. You’d been smitten. And you’d known what it really meant.

You just want to get to Jaehyun’s room, but his broad frame blocks your way. The tall man smirks against your lips. “Eager?”

You bundle your hands in the hem of his sweater, pulling and nodding, lips moving to press kisses to the underside of his jaw. “Yeah.”

“Where’s your camera baby?” 

You pull away from his neck and laugh. “Where’s my camera?” You cock your eyebrow at him.

NCT boys really are something else. Lucas, Hendery, Johnny- all more than willing to film with you. You’re starting to realize that maybe the competition aspect of it makes them perform better, after all, they are all professionals who compete for a living. 

“We can use my phone,” you tell him, happy that it’s in your back pocket and easily accessible. Jaehyun reaches for it but you hold it to your chest, smirking at him. “We don’t have to film, you know?”

Jaehyun laughs, and he truly looks angelic. “I know we don’t have to,” he says, grinning down at you. “You have no idea how fucking hot this is, do you? All of us being able to do this with you?” The gorgeous idol grabs your hips again, pressing his lips to yours. This time he’s the one moving back towards his room, dragging you with him. “Turn your chat room on, then give me the phone,” he commands softly when you get to his door. 

You do as you’re told, watching quietly to see what he’ll do next.

“Go get naked, and then put on one of my shirts,” he instructs.

You follow through with this too, walking past Jaehyun into his room. His eyes, and the camera, follow you. 

He, they, watch you strip slowly. You keep your now bare back to the camera, teasing a little when you bend over to remove your jeans. 

You find a clean shirt folded by the bed and you put it on, smoothing it down so it lands on your mid thigh. Then you wiggle out of your panties.

You turn to face Jaehyun, eyes on him, waiting for further instruction.

“Now get on the bed,” he says, voice lowering. 

You do as you're told, getting into the familiar bed and laying flat, with your legs closed. 

A hand wraps around your ankle, dragging you down the bed. When you look, you see Jaehyun isn’t holding the phone anymore. Both of his hands force your legs open, and he pulls you the final short distance so that you’re situated right where he can reach you.

Your core is exposed now, and his warm breath makes your heart flip in your chest. You grab at the shirt covering your body and lift it higher, wrapping your fists in the fabric while you wait for him to do something.

“Jae-” you whine. 

A moment later you’re rewarded by his lips on your inner thigh. His kisses move towards your center, closer, closer- he changes to your other thigh and you groan in frustration, toes curling as a wave of the expected ghost pleasure runs through you. 

“Jae-” The whimper is drawn out and high pitched, you know he has a thing for this. The cute voice, the whining. 

You’re rewarded when his whole mouth lands on your pussy, tongue diving into you and making a jolt of pleasure run through your entire body. 

“Fuck-” You close your eyes and your back arches, hands moving down to grab at his pretty hair.

You’re once again shocked at all your men pulling out these wonderful tricks for the camera. They’re definitely competing in the best way possible.

Jaehyun’s eaten you out before, but usually on special occasions. Valentine boy is more of a quickie- or in public- rage fuelled kind of guy. This is a new side to him, but you know your mean dom is buried there somewhere.

A moan leaves your lips when a finger slides into your entrance, quickly followed by another. Jaehyun curls them up expertly, finding your gspot. 

“You look so cute in my clothes.” His mouth moves to press a sloppy kiss to the flesh of your inner thigh, and you shiver at the motion as his fingers work you up. “You still have my hoodie, right, Kitten?”

A sigh leaves your lips, followed by a small sound of affirmation. 

Jaehyun has a thing about his clothes and what happens when you wear them. 

You wearing his hoodie gives him a sense of ownership over you, and you’ll play along with it when it’s just the two of you, but one time you’d worn his shirt to hang out with him and Johnny and- well, Jaehyun can be entitled in general, so to have you in his clothes?

He acted as if you were his girlfriend the whole time, and it had been… interesting to say the least. You’re pretty sure he learned from it though, because he hasn’t done it to the same extent again since.

“Does it still smell like me?” The pink haired man prompts from between your legs, teeth grazing your skin.

You moan loudly, unable to truly give him answers because your mind is dizzy with pleasure. You can hear the squelching of your pussy with each thrust of his fingers, and your mind is getting foggier, overcome by the pleasure that Jaehyun always delivers.

“You looked so good in that hoodie every time you would facetime me during tour,” Jaehyun’s voice is smooth, confident, and loud enough for the camera (wherever it is) to pick it up. “Do you remember calling me right before we had to go on stage in LA? You were begging for some attention, just so you could get off on your own fingers, dirty girl.” 

You moan loudly as his digits work you harder, his thumb pressing down against your clit now to send shivers of shock running through every limb. 

“All it took was a little attention, right baby? You’re our little attention whore?” 

“Jae, please let me cum-” is all you can say in return, eyes closed, back arching as you try to hold back the waves of pleasure from crashing into you prematurely. You can’t cum without his permission, Jaehyun’s one of the meanest doms if you do.

“Tell me you’re my attention whore and then you can cum.” 

You bundle your hands up in the shirt, pulling it higher to expose more of your abdomen as words begin to tumblr from your lips, “I’m your little attention whore, I fucking love it when you make me cum, please Jae, please-”

Jaehyun doesn’t even give you a verbal confirmation this time, instead, he brings his mouth back down to your pussy. His lips wrap around your clit and you explode on his fingers, which continue to glide in and out of you, pressing up against your gspot. 

Your legs shake around Jaehyun’s frame, unable to close, and one of his hands comes to grab your waist, keeping you still so he can flick and suck on your clit throughout your entire orgasm. 

You push at his head when he doesn’t let up, but Jaehyun ignores you, forcing your orgasm to be prolonged until your legs are twitching and tears are rolling down your cheeks. He knows you’ll say your safe word if you need to, but until then, he gets to do whatever he wants, and what he wants, is to make you cum harder than anyone else.

Jaehyun listens to your pretty sounds, which become less whimpery as you steady yourself, your grip in his hair going slack. You continue to pull loosely at the pretty pink strands, catching your breath while he moves to kiss at your thighs.

Jaehyun suckles on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh until he’s sure there will be a mark, something to remind you who was here, something to remind the others. 

“Jae-” his name sounds like a prayer leaving your lips, your fingers finding a harder hold in his hair again.

Your hips move forward, and Jaehyun smirks against your thigh, “You want more princess?” he asks.

“Yes Jae.”

Jaehyun hums, breath fanning over your entrance and sending shivers through your body. “You’re not begging yet, baby.” Jaehyun pulls away from you all at once, and you immediately try to fix your error, pleas echoing through the room on ears that aren’t listening.

Jaehyun pulls off his shirt as he stands at the foot of the bed, eyes taking in your body while you admire his own washboard-esque abdomen. 

He licks his lips with appreciation of your form, then turns his back to you, heading over to his desk to grab your phone. Now that you see where it was, you can imagine how good Jaehyun eating you out looked, and your tummy flip flops with delight. 

“Please Jaehyun-” you whine again, on your knees now as you crawl towards him at the foot of the bed. You know what he wants, you always know with Jaehyun. 

His cock is straining deliciously against his sweatpants. You look up at the man who is grinning down at you like the cheshire cat, phone in hand, capturing every moment.

You reach out for his cock, ready to push down his pants, but Jaehyun smacks your hand away. 

“You’re still not begging,” he reminds you, grabbing your jaw roughly, “haven’t I taught you how to behave properly, pretty girl?”

You swallow thickly. 

So this is the angle. He wants you to really play it out for the camera, wants an ego kick. 

You can give it to him.

“Jae, please? You know how much I love sucking your cock,” you pout, tilting your head and making doe eyes. 

Jaehyun’s smirk widens as he looks down at you, eyes scanning the comments in the cam room. He’s always been on the other side of it, it’s odd to be holding the camera, holding the power.

Heychannie: nooooona come down to the 5th floor when ur done :(

KittyTae has donated $100

NiceGuyJohnny has donated $200

yutAH: this is why you didn’t come to ramen with us????

Heychannie: YOU GUYS WENT FOR RAMEN AND DIDN’T INVITE ME?!

yutAH: 10th floors only

Doie has donated $500

Heychannie: who the fuck gave Doyoung the link for the camroom

yutAH: who gave YOU the link? Fucking dreamies-

TeamWang: the girls are FIGHTING

Lucas99: YO JACKSON!

TeamWang: LUCAAAAS

Jaehyun can’t believe they’re bickering like this when he just ate you out and made you cum. 

Is your begging not hot enough to be discussed or envied over? 

Jaehyun feels his skin heat with emotion and his eyes shift back up to you. You’re still pouting up at him, a hand slowly reaching for his cock again. This time he allows you to touch it, and you stoke the outline which strains against his sweatpants. 

You groan. “Jae, please, I want you inside of me.” 

When you look up at him again he notices the tear stains on your cheeks from the orgasm he’s already given you. Then Jaehyun is grabbing your chin roughly again, bringing the camera nice and close to you. His thumb wipes a tear away, with careful attention to make sure the men in the chat see it.

HeyChannie: O.O

Lucas99: He made her CRY

NiceGuyJohnny has donated $20

NiceGuyJohnny: money to buy some fucking tissues Jae you dirty dog

“Aw, did I make you cry earlier, pretty girl?” Jaehyun smirks, moving his thumb to your lips.

You suck him into your mouth immediately, tasting the saltiness of your own tears and nodding solemnly. He lets you suck on his thumb only to pull it away too quick. 

“Your tongue felt so good on me, Jae,” you coo, knowing he wants all the verbal affirmation you can give him. “Please let me make you feel good.”

“Fine.”

HeyChannie: DID HE JUST SAY “FINE”?!??!?!?!?!

yutAH: fuuuuck

KittyTae has donated $100

“But no hands.” Jaehyun’s voice is low now, the warning clear. 

You blink up at him for a moment, realizing what he wants, and you lick your lips. 

“Yes, daddy,” you answer obediently before you move towards his abdomen face first, eager to get your teeth gripped onto his sweatpants so you can drag them down. 

The first thing you do is simply let your breath fan over his lower stomach, and you watch the small tremor that works its way through his body in reaction. 

Jaehyun hisses when your tongue licks a long stripe from his naval down to the waistband of his sweats. You make sure to be careful as you sink your teeth into fabric, letting out a playful growl as you move your head down, pulling his pants with you.

Lucas99: holy FUCK she’s good at that

NiceGuyJohnny has donated $200

HeyChannie: hands are so fun tho :(

NiceGuyJohnny: You just think that because you’ve never had her mouth before. Trust me. It’s enough

Doie: ^^^^^

HeyChannie: ok but seriously wtf, am i the only person on the 5th floor she hasn’t fucked yet-

Jaehyun’s not wearing underwear, so when his sweatpants are down, his cock springs up against his abdomen. 

You lick your lips again, able to feel your mouth watering at the sight of his glorious cock. Like the rest of him, it’s simply beautiful, a word you generally don’t use to describe dicks. 

You start at the base of his cock, licking up to the tip. You consider staying there and swirling your tongue around him, but you decide that if he wants to play by saying you can’t use your hands, you can tease Jae too. 

Your tongue descends down his shaft again, coating it in saliva. “Jae?” you whine, looking up at him and the camera, ��Can I suck you off, please?”

He’ll never punish you for asking permission, and this way he can’t try to fight you for teasing him now. You can pretend you’re doing it while you wait for his command, not just for the hell of it. 

You watch Jaehyun’s expression soften, a smile appearing on his lips. “Of course baby girl, show daddy how much you love sucking his cock.”

“Can I touch your thighs now please?” you kitten lick up his shaft. You need to steady yourself against something if you’re going to be blowing him without the help of your hands. 

“Of course, baby.” 

As soon as your hands are placed on the dancer’s strong thighs, you feel more stable. 

You wrap your lips around the head of his cock, taking more of him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around and around.

“Take more,” Jaehyun urges you, hips twitching to force his cock farther into your mouth.

You sink down as much as you can, till the head of his cock bumps into the back of your throat, which swallows around him and makes Jaehyun groan. 

“You’ll let me fuck your face, right, baby?” Jaehyun asks, free hand petting your hair.

You suck on him a moment longer before pulling off of his cock, mouth still connected by a string of saliva. 

When you look up at Jaehyun, he can see a tear just beginning to fall from your left eye, when he’d hit the back of your throat and you’d gagged, it must have triggered your eyes to water too. 

He takes great sadistic pleasure in that singular tear. The way your lips are puffy. The look of complete desperation on your face. “Please fuck my face,” you whimper.

“Dirty girl,” Jaehyun chuckles, plunging his cock back past your lips. His free hand grabs the back of your head, keeping you still as his hips begin to thrust. It takes everything in him to keep the camera steady as he uses you for his own pleasure.

 HeyChannie: she just lets him use her-

NiceGuyJohnny: such a good girl

NiceGuyJohnny has donated $200

HeyChannie has donated $200

Lucas99: fuck i miss her

HeyChannie: HA! Loser!

yutAH: don’t be SOFT

Doie: you still haven't even fucked her Haechan

HeyChannie: Doyoung unlock your door I just want to talk.

Jaehyun’s grip in your hair tightens and pain shoots through your scalp, which you enjoy because it distracts you from Jaehyun repeatedly hitting the back of your throat with his cock. 

“Open your eyes kitten,” Jaehyun growls. “Look up at me.”

You do as you’re told, which is difficult because fuck- you just want to close your eyes and enjoy him using you.

“Bet you just love this,” Jaehyun sneers, “choking on cock.” You groan around him. “Being on your knees.” You can feel wetness pooling between your legs and you dig your nails into Jaehyun’s thighs to remind yourself not to dare touch yourself without permission. “Bet you’re so fucking wet too, just from this.”

He roughly pulls you off of his cock and you’re left sputtering, drool and precum a mess on your mouth, lips and chin, but you don’t care, immediately voicing the words you know he wants to hear; “fuck, Jae, I’m so wet for you, please, I need you so bad, I love your cock, please just fuck me, I need it-”

He shoves you roughly so that you fall back onto the bed, then he adjusts you so he can slide the head of his cock between your wet folds, gathering your slick there and coating himself as the camera takes it all in. 

“You’re so messy,” Jaehyun coos, hips thrusting of their own accord, which only succeeds in making his cock slide up and bump against your clit, sending a shiver through your entire body as you grab the sheets to anchor yourself. 

Lucas99: just fuck her, we’re all at practice-

KittyTae: GO BACK TO PRACTICE

Lucas99: we’re in the bathroom it’s fine

KittyTae: ALL OF YOU????

Jaehyun snickers at the fight going on and you groan, “Please-”

“Be patient.” Jaehyun smacks your inner thigh, right over the mark he’d made earlier. Then he grabs his cock again, continuing to toy your entrance with it. He slips just the head of his dick inside of you and you moan- only for him to pull it out- then do it again.

“Jae!” You’re nearly shaking with need.

“Touch yourself,” Jaehyun instructs.

Your hand finds your clit before his words are even out of his mouth fully, and you rub it vigorously, wetness coating your fingers and making it all too easy. Then your other hand comes down and you grab Jaehyun’s cock, pumping him once before he moves your hand away. “Please-” you whine for the umpteenth time. 

Jaehyun slides his cock into you with a groan. “So fucking tight baby.” Your pussy clenches around him and he chuckles. “Are you close already?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, daddy.” 

Your eyes are closed and Jaehyun inspects your face, you’re broken for him and he loves it. He could ask you for anything right now and you’d give it to him. 

Luckily Jaehyun isn’t feeling too sadistic tonight.

He focuses the camera on your entrance, watching with fascination as he disappears into you over and over again. 

His pace is slow, and it leaves you clawing at the bed. 

“Please, go faster-” your motions on your clit haven’t ceased, and Jaehyun realizes if you cum, he may cum too. Your oral skills are just too damn good, and you look so fucking sexy, still in his shirt- but damn, he misses your tits.

Hendery99: fuuuuuuck

Hendery99 has donates $420

NiceGuyJohnny has donated $420

KittyTae: call her kitten again

KittyTae has donated $500

Doie has donated $500

HeyChannie has donated $420

yutAH: choke her when she cums

HeyChannie: ^^^^^^

Doie: ^^^^^^^^^^

“Kitten, take off the shirt.” Jaehyun’s voice is smooth, calm, collected- as if he’s not fucking you to the point that you’re nearly a blubbering needy mess on his bed. 

You do as you’re told, and everyone's eyes stay fixed to your chest as you pull the fabric up and over your head, your breasts spilling out into the open air deliciously.

Jaehyun’s large hand finds your left boob, and he squeezes your flesh. “So pretty,” he tells you, fingers pinching at your nipple, forcing a whimper out of your throat.

“You want to cum, baby girl?” Jaehyun asks.

“Please, Jae-”

The neediest whine he’s ever heard in his life leaves your lips when he pulls his cock out of your entrance. But he quickly replaces it with his fingers, which slam up into your gspot with shocking precision. 

Jaehyun’s always been competitive, and when he’s working to make you cum- well, he goes 100%. 

“If you stop I stop,” Jaehyun says when he sees your motions falter on your own clit, body getting too sensitive as he works you up. 

Although he has the camera down on where his fingers are slamming into you- Jaehyun watches your face. 

He watches the way your eyes clench shut, chest heaving as he forces and orgasm out of you. He sees how desperately you try to keep pressure on your clit, but your legs shudder, trying to close around his hand when he keeps finger fucking you, prolonging everything and making you cry out. 

“Legs open or you dont get my cock,” Jaehyun growls.

He can see the effort you put into forcing your legs open, body shaking from your orgasm. “Jae!” you nearly scream his name when his thumb finds your clit.

He just smirks as he makes you ride it out, and all you can do is make horribly sinful sounds and hold onto the bed sheets like they’re your life line. 

You’re aware of Jaehyun pulling his fingers from you, and you hear him groan and say “you taste so good kitten,” but you’re too exhausted to care. 

“Still want my cock?” His hard member slides against your entrance and your whole body jolts, eyes snapping open. You swallow thickly and nod.

The camera’s not in his hands anymore, no, you see it behind him, back on the desk near the foot of the bed. 

“On your knees facing the camera baby,” Jaehyun instructs. But he doesn't even give you a chance to move yourself, instead he pulls you up himself, situating you exactly where he wants you while he sets up behind you.

You arch your back and push your bum out for him, moaning and shuddering when he breathes against your neck, hands smoothing down your shoulders to your hands. 

Lips kiss your neck, and then one of his arms snakes across your abdomen and ribs, which secures you to his chest. You feel his cock at your entrance once more and you sink down on him.

You both moan and Jaehyun buries his face in your neck, speckling your skin in kisses and little love bites that send shivers of delight through your body. 

One of his hands finds your hip, and the other stays anchoring you, moving up to your breast to pinch at your nipple, then his fingers wrap securely around your throat. 

“Look at the camera, princess,” Jaehyun tells you, his hips moving slowly at first, as he had when he had you on your back. 

“Jae-” You want to beg him for more, but his hand restricts your throat further, and your words are choked back. 

The time for talking is over.

His hips move quickly, and small sounds of pleasure leave your lips, pitch getting higher as Jaehyun goes faster. 

You grab at his forearm, which is warm and steady, and your tight grip prompts him to choke you more. 

You can feel the effect of his grip when your breathing is cut off, and when this happens, it starts to feel like your whole body is alit with pleasure. 

Your senses are heightened as Jaehyun pounds into you, fingers digging into your hip so hard you wonder if it will bruise. Jae’s always the one who leaves you with the most unintentional bruises, he never means to- he just gets so wrapped up in you. And who can blame him?

Your pussy clamps down on Jaehyun, so sensitive from two orgasms which Jaehyun mercilessly forced out of you. 

Jaehyun lets up on your throat and your body sucks in air.

“Please cum for me Jae, please!” you beg him, so close to the edge yourself- you don’t think you’ll be able to handle it if he doesn’t cum with you. You can’t handle more orgasms, not when they’re like this, not when they’re from Jae-

Jaehyun growls behind you, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. He doesn’t say anything, but you know he’ll cum too, and all you can do is hold on until he does. 

The pleasure between your legs is building and building and building, your tummy almost hurting as your muscles try to hold off your orgasm, which only makes you squeeze his cock tighter.

“Fuck,” Jaehyun growls, and the word throws you over the edge. 

You can barely think coherent thoughts as Jaehyun’s hips diligently work you both through your powerful orgasms, moans filling the room to cover the sound of skin on skin. 

His hand on your throat makes it all the more pleasurable, a firm grip making breathing just difficult enough to send jolts of electricity sparkling over your skin. 

When his hips finally slow, Jaehyun just holds you for a moment. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart behind you, and his grip on you is tight. 

He doesn’t want to let go of you. Not now. Not ever.

But soon, you struggle in his grasp, and Jaehyun is brought back down to earth from the heavenly orgasm cloud he’d been floating on while having you a prisoner in his arms. 

He lets you go and you collapse down onto the bed, eyes closed.

Jaehyun gets up quickly, not interested in the camera getting too good of a look at his cock- he supposes Jinyoung from Got7 had the right idea on that account. 

Once the camera is in his hands and his sweatpants are on, Jaehyun comes to the bed. He allows your phone to see all the marks blooming on your skin, reminders that he was there, and finally he reaches your face. 

“How are you feeling, pretty girl?” he asks, thumb reaching out to brush away a tear that’s rolled down your cheek again.

Jaehyun gives your orgasms that are so powerful sometimes that your body doesn’t even know how to handle them, and this usually leads to tears. You feel your skin heat in embarrassment and you sniffle, rubbing your eyes and hiding your face in the blankets. “Good,” you mumble.

Jaehyun laughs. “Fucked you stupid, didn’t I, baby girl?” 

His hand smooths down your exposed thigh and then he lightly smacks your ass, watching the jiggle with fascination, and enjoying the squeak that leaves your lips, still audible despite your face being now hidden. 

He watches the chat, which is exploding with comments and donations, and Jaehyun turns the cam off, setting your phone down. Then he lays down behind you, curling up so his warmth can spread through you. His lips press kisses to your shoulders, taking care to avoid the small bite mark he’d ‘accidentally’ left. He knows you don't mind the marks.

“You okay?” he asks, voice soft, and you know he’s put the camera away. 

You turn around in his arms to face him, not saying anything, instead you just rest against his chest, listening to his heart.

“Johnny says they have dinner down on the 5th floor if you want some,” Jaehyun tells you after a moment. “Are you hungry?”

You nod against his chest. 

“Do you want to go down, or would you like me to go get food for you and bring it back up here?” His fingers stroke your hair.

“Who’s down there right now?” you ask breathing in his pretty smell. ‘How does he never smell bad after sex?’ you wonder.

“I think everyone’s home on the fifth floor,” Jaehyun answers. “Johnny, Doyoung, Taeyong and Haechan were all watching.”

Your pussy flutters at the idea. You’d just recently given Doyoung the link to get into the room. You’re not sure why you hadn’t thought he’d like the idea of the cam room when you made it. 

You know Doyoung can be pretty… intense, but he’d messaged you last week to inquire on everything, and how could you resist the beautiful man.

“I think I'm good to go down to the 5th floor for food,” you sigh.

Jaehyun hadn’t realized there was a right and a wrong answer until you speak. 

Wrong answer. In his eyes, anyways. He wants you all to himself.

But you made your choice.

He can’t fault you for that.

Jaehyun pulls away from you, instead of giving you your own clothes, he grabs you his shirt and a pair of sweats. Your jeans wouldn’t have been comfortable. 

You can go down to eat with the others, but he’ll be damned if you’re not wearing his shirt.

Jaehyun helps you to your feet and dresses you, pressing many soft kisses against your skin. He makes you giggle when he pays close attention to your face, peppering it with his love-

Jaehyun holds your hand as you exit the dorms and take the elevator down 5 floors. You’re a little wobbly on your legs and it feels nice to have your secure protector next to you. 

Haechan opens the door for you at the 5th floor dorm, and engulfs you in a hug, only to pull away and crinkle his nose. “You smell like Jaehyun.”

“No shit,” Jaehyun says as he moves past the younger man, heading to the kitchen where Johnny is cooking. 

Taeyong and Doyoung have wine out, and both of them have the shame to look away from Jaehyun when he enters. They just watched him fuck the shit out of you after all-

Haechan and Johnny? They act as if this is the most normal thing in the world, Johnny pulling you to his side so you can taste his cooking. Johnny makes you open your mouth so he can spoon feed you, making an ‘ah’ sound that has Jaehyun’s skin heating with jealousy.

He has to remind himself, you’re not his. 

And, from the way you look up at Johnny with stars in your eyes, he realizes you may never be.

Interact with those who’ve cum before

› [nct] NiceGuyJohnny - online

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[somekndofnature]

No Other Way #19

Another one for the @domaystic prompt challenge and it is safe for work, just a few kisses and curse words.  I started with an idea for this prompt and then, when I sat down to write it...well, it sort of did it’s own thing. Still, I’m happy with the end product.  

Day 19:  Managing Expenses

Fandom: Inuyasha; Modern MMA AU

Pairing: Inuyasha/Kagome

Rating: T for language and suggestive humor

AO3

Well, Too Much Silence Can Be Misleading

Inuyasha fell face first onto his bed, groaning as his tense muscles ached in protest. One clawed hand reached out and snatched the pillow from the opposite side, crushing it to his chest. He buried his nose in the downy soft cushion and inhaled Kagome’s gentle scent before releasing a weary sigh. It had been a long day.  

While he appreciated Sesshomaru’s effort to finally start to involve him in the running of the fighting federation, as more than just a fighter, it didn’t mean they were suddenly best friends. Some days, only the fact that it was his father’s–their father’s–legacy kept them from killing each other. Today was one of those days. Inuyasha just couldn’t stomach his condescending behavior; the long suffering-sighs every time he voiced a question or idea, the constant aire of superior disdain as he looked down his nose at his half-breed brother, or the grumbling under his breath about Inuyasha's unruly hair, foul language, and unprofessional clothing. 

Tough shit, Sess. A plain black shirt and jeans is the best you’re gonna get out of me.  

Unless it was fight night, then Inuyasha was required to wear a suit to the arena. It was a federation rule and apparently the hill Sesshomaru was willing to die on. Everyone came looking their best, shaking their feathers like arrogant peacocks. It was another part of the performance, hyping up the crowd. Inuyasha could only ever think of tearing his claws through the uncomfortable silk and wool to get down to business. Kagome’s gentle touch resting between his shoulder blades was the one thing that ever stayed his hand. She made everything worth it. 

Those quiet moments in the locker room just before he stepped into the ring, where she divested him of that sham finery, were some of his most treasured memories. Her delicate fingers would slip glossy buttons through their holes, unwind the silk knot of the tie that threatened to choke him, and strip away the facade of culture that he barely maintained. With soft spoken words of encouragement and concern whispered across his skin, Kagome would bare him, body and soul, revealing only the hanyou who loved her beneath the shiny trappings.

Filthy bastard half-breed still needing that lowly creature to calm you like a pup.

Inuyasha winced and bunched his shoulders, growling under his breath at the insidious voice of his half-brother that infiltrated his thoughts. Sesshomaru was the last person he wanted to be thinking about right now. He hugged Kagome’s pillow tighter and tried to push all thoughts of his dick of a sibling from his mind. He had spent all day with the fucker; Inuyasha didn’t need to bring their family drama home with him, as well. He took a deep breath, like his girlfriend had taught him, and counted to ten, trying to tamp down on all of the anger and resentment that had swallowed him today, but knowing that only her presence would fully soothe him. 

Soft white ears perked up at the sound of keys jingling in the lock on the front door. Kagome! 

Inuyasha’s heart leapt as he scrambled out of bed and down the hallway, rushing the front door just as it opened. Kagome fell through, laden with several bags that she was now squishing under her weight.  

She blew a dark curl out of her eyes and looked up at him with a tired smile. “Hi!”

“Hey,” he replied, brow furrowing as he helped her to her feet. “Why didn’t you call me from downstairs? I could have helped you.” 

Kagome dusted off the front of her blue skirt and fluffy pink sweater. “No need. I had it under control,” she replied, ignoring the sprawling bags that crowded the entryway and belied her statement. “Sorry, it took me so long, I had to go back to Sango’s place to drop some stuff off in my room and grab more clothes.”

Inuyasha shook his head as he gathered everything into his arms. 

“Wait!” she called when he headed for the kitchen. 

He turned back just as Kagome toed off her shoes and pranced toward him. “What is it?”

“You didn’t kiss me,” she replied, laying a hand on his chest. 

One corner of his mouth drew up into a lopsided smile as she stood on tiptoe and threaded her fingers into the silver hair on the back of his neck. Inuyasha let Kagome  draw him down into a gentle kiss, playing her lips over his in feather-light, tender, caresses that left him cursing the burden in his arms. He couldn’t hug her close or run his hands over her soft curves. Too soon, she was pulling away.  

Kagome cupped his cheek in her hand. “You look tired. Long day?”  

“You have no idea,” he replied with a roll of his eyes as he stepped away from her touch and headed into the kitchen.

“That bad?” she asked, following on his heels. “I thought things were improving between you and Sesshomaru.”  

He snorted, placing the bags on the counter. “He’s lucky he didn’t leave missing the other arm.”

“Inuyasha,” she chided at his side as she started unloading. 

“Look, I’m sorry, Kagome but he is just such an arrogant fuck,” he snapped as he leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “It drives me insane.” 

“Oh yes, arrogance is completely his problem. It is so not a family trait,’ Kagome replied with a wry smile over her shoulder. She grabbed a few things out of the bag and started to put them away in the refrigerator. 

Inuyasha balked. “Are you trying to say that I’m arrogant? I’m nothing like that asshole.”

The door to the fridge closed with a poignant thunk as Kagome turned to face him. 

“What?”

“Inuyasha, what was that thing you said to Kouga, the last time we saw him?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest. 

“That he didn’t have a big enough dick to satisfy you,” he immediately repeated without shame. 

“All while implying that you do?” Kagome raised a brow like she had made some kind of point even as her cheeks pinkened. 

“What? That? That isn’t arrogance, ‘Gome. It’s the truth; I don’t need to tell you that. Besides, have you seen those tiny workout shorts he wears? He can’t be packin’ much south of the border or he’d be falling out.” 

“Well, it’s nice to know that you’ve been looking,” she said with a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

He shrugged. “At what? Ain’t nothin’ to see. He’s like a fucking Ken doll down there.”

A bright chuckle sputtered from her. “Inuyasha!” 

“What?”

“You keep proving my point.” 

Inuyasha rolled his eyes and reached back to grip the counter in tense hands. “Come on, ‘Gome. That’s not the type of arrogance I’m talking about. Sesshomaru is just unbearable. He thinks he knows everything and that I’m some sort of dumbass. He’s always talking about how he and the old man established the foundations of this country from the ground up,” Inuyasha said, slipping into a mocking impression of his brother’s elite accent. “‘Father and I did this’ or ‘Father would have laughed at such a suggestion’, blah, blah, blah.” A growl rumbled in the back of his throat at the memory. “It’s like, I get it, ya know? They spent centuries together building this whole empire. Sesshomaru knows everything about him from the way he took his coffee to his favorite fucking brand of socks. Everyone knows he’s the real son! He doesn’t need to keep reminding me! I know!” 

His angry shout seemed to echo through the air as the smile fell away from Kagome’s face. “Inu.”

He bit out a curse and looked away, shifting from foot to foot before ultimately pushing off the counter. “I gotta get out of here.” 

“Wait!” She caught his arm and he couldn’t find the heart to shake her off. It would only make her cry and him feel like the biggest jerk alive. “Inuyasha, look at me.”

After several moments he reluctantly faced her again but kept his arms crossed tight over his chest. This wasn’t a conversation that he wanted to have. 

Kagome’s blue eyes darted all over his face until he had the distinct urge to fidget. They had enough arguments between them that he knew it wasn’t pity which furrowed her delicate brows but genuine empathy. She had also lost her father at a young age and only remembered him in flashes of memory or occasional dreams.  

She placed a hand on his forearm and cupped his cheek. “You are your father’s real son–” 

“Keh.” He cringed, ears flattening against his head as he studied the floor.  

“Listen to me,” Kagome insisted, lifting his eyes back to hers. “You are Toga Taisho’s real son and there is nothing you or I or anyone can do about that. It’s biology; he made up fifty percent of everything you are. Not even Sesshomaru, in his mighty wisdom,” she drawled with a roll of her eyes. “Can change that.”  

Inuyasha remained silent, scowling at his toes and ready to bolt the moment she released him. 

“Come on, puppy,” she pleaded, rising on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck. “I know Sesshomaru is patronizing and insufferable and…” She trailed off, releasing a delicate but irritated growl that only endeared her to him more.  “But you’re doing the right thing.”

“Keh. By what? Not killin’ him?”

“You’re trying,” she insisted. “That’s what’s important. Good relationships aren’t built overnight.”

“I don’t want to build a good relationship with that asshole,” Inuyasha spat, making his disdain for both Sesshomaru and her psychology mumbo-jumbo known.  

“Inuyasha,” Kagome replied in a firm tone. “I’m well aware that you don’t really feel that way. The two of you are the only ones left of your family, and I know that there are some chasms between you that are too wide to cross, but I also know that you want to try.”

He grimaced but slipped his arms around her waist. “Whatever the fuck that’s worth.” 

“It’s worth a lot,” she replied. “Your father would be proud of you.”

In spite of his desire to appear indifferent, Inuyasha’s ears perked. “For what?”

“For being the bigger man, for not giving up, even when things get difficult. He would definitely be proud. I mean…” Kagome shrugged. “Your mother would be proud of you too, but that sort of goes without saying, doesn’t it?”

Inuyasha shook his head but ultimately relaxed, linking his hands behind her back. “Fine, but you don’t get to use that one for at least a month.”

“Stop making it so true and I’ll stop telling you.” Kagome gave him a soft smile. 

He glanced away, feeling his cheeks start to heat. “Keh.”

“Yeah, “keh” yourself,” she replied, giving his hair a gentle tug. “You’ll just have to learn to live with it.” 

Inuyasha pulled her closer, gratified when she melted into the line of his body like she had always belonged there.  

Kagome released a contented hum. “So, will you stay? I’ve really missed you today.” 

When she looked up at him with those pleading blue eyes, he could hardly say no. Inuyasha didn’t quite feel so restless anymore anyway. Right now, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than to spend a night-in with her. He gave a grumbling nod of assent.  

“Yay!’ She placed a swift kiss on his cheek, flitting out of his arms before he even had the chance to tighten them around her.  

Inuyasha scowled and followed after her. “Oi! Is that all I get?”

“I have to start making dinner soon, Inu,” she replied with a giggle as she once again turned to the full countertop. “Now help me out.”

“I get it,” he said, coming to her side. “You’re just using me for manual labor, aren’t you?”

Kagome winked. “Maybe, but I offer one hell of a compensation package.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that,” he replied while pulling several items out of the bag. When his hands closed around a package of chicken instead of the steak Inuyasha remembered her promising, his frown deepened.  “What the hell is this?”

She closed a cabinet door, glancing his way before rolling her eyes. “Oh don’t start, Inu. Meat went up in price. I’m a poor grad student. Between my half of the rent at Sango’s, utilities, transportation, and feeding a ravenous hanyou, I’m strapped.” 

“If you needed cash, why didn’t you just ask me?” He started digging his wallet out of his back pocket before she rushed over, stopping him.  

“I’m not going to take your money, Inu.” 

“Why not?”

“Because, I was just kidding about the ravenous hanyou thing; I don’t mind.” She shook her head and turned back to her task. “I’ll be fine.”  

He scoffed. “Come on, ‘Gome. We can at least go halfway on things like food. You’re here all the time cooking for me.”  

“That’s not true,” she mumbled absently. “What about when I’m at Sango’s?”

“Yeah, and when was the last time you spent the night there?” 

“Two weeks ago for my French Lit exam. Why?” Kagome asked with her head buried in a cabinet. “Are you complaining? You don’t want me here?”   

“No, that's not it, at all. I just think it’s ridiculous,” he replied, while tossing the empty sacks into a drawer. “You practically live here.”  

The sudden silence made his ears twitch and Inuyasha looked up, meeting her surprised gaze. “Is this your way of asking me to move in?”

His eyes went wide, dark brows arching upwards. “Uhhhh…” 

“It wasn’t.” Kagome started waving her hands through the air with her cheeks turning beet-red. “Never mind, forget I said that.” 

Inuyasha was still in mild shock at her suggestion. It wasn’t that he had never thought about it. She was over at his apartment all the time. For the first time in a long time, he could say that he felt content. He’d never had a life as good as the one he did now, asking for more felt greedy. It never stopped the longing for something permanent, though.

He wanted Kagome around all the time, even when he was moody and frustrated; hell, especially then. The idea of coming home to a place they both lived, of building a life together, of picking out curtains and arguing over bills, of lazy Sundays where they never got out of bed; it all filled him with such a bone-deep sense of peace and satisfaction.  

She fidgeted the longer he stared at her, finally grabbing her small duffle bag off the counter. “I’m just gonna throw my stuff on the bed.”

“Wait.” Inuyasha stepped forward and captured her hand. 

“What?”

“You would really want to do that?” he asked while searching her eyes. 

Kagome’s face softened into a smile as she dropped her bag to the floor and faced him fully. “Of course, Inu.”

“Aren’t there some people who would object?” 

“Who? Mama?” 

He shrugged. “And the old man.” 

“Inuyasha, it’s the 21st century and I’m twenty-three. I think Mama and Grandfather can deal with the fact that I’m living with the man I love,” she said with a roll of her eyes.  

“I think he’s going to have some things to say about it.”  

“Well then, he can take them up with someone who has the patience to listen.” She squeezed his fingers. “So, does this mean you’re asking me to move in?”

“I don’t know,” Inuyasha replied with his heart slamming against his ribcage. “Are you saying yes?” 

Kagome bit her lip before she blossomed into a radiant grin and jumped into his arms, giving him a full body hug. “Yes, yes, yes! Of course I want to live with you!”

“Whoa,” he chuckled, catching her under her thighs. “Wasn’t expecting that reaction.” 

Kagome tightened her arms around his neck, silencing Inuyasha with a heated kiss that curled his toes. 

He groaned, clawed hands slipping down to cup her soft backside as he carried her toward his…their bedroom. 

“Inu,” she mumbled against his lips. “What about dinner?” 

“It can wait,” he replied, grunting when her thighs squeezed his hips. “We have something to celebrate.”

Kagome nodded, moaning into his mouth as he crossed the threshold with her still wrapped around him.

Inuyasha kicked the door closed behind them, still marveling at how such a terrible day had turned into one of the best of his life. 

[r0-boat]

Secrecy

Oc Oliver Sterling x Reader

Tldr:Fucking in a classroom

Cw: student/teacher relationship

Oliver has made many decisions but none could compare to being with one of his students. A decision he never regrets; he does love you. However, he has come to learn that you are pretty promiscuous... you are not a straight-A student, but he could tell you genuinely have an interest in his class. He always knew you were a risk-taker... he just didn't know how far you were willing to go.

Today during one of his long lectures, he almost choked on his words, a rarity for him when he just so happened to look down. You were playing with the bottom half of your uniform, intentionally flashing him...you had nothing underneath. He tore his eyes away and continued with the lesson, not wanting to draw attention. And Oliver swore he saw your lips curved into a smirk.

Thank God that's it the short that day he could feel your eyes on him burning into his head like a tiger stalking on its victim. You pretended to pack your things into your book bag as everyone else left the classroom to go back to home. You try not to show your smile as you see Oliver walk over to your seat.

As you were going to pick up your notebook Sterling's hand slams down on the desk right on top of your notebook his weight on it you could hear the Venom in his voice as he utters, "what were you thinking?"

" What do you mean?"

" Don't Play Dumb With Me. During my lesson you purposely flashed me, in class! What if someone saw."

"Buuut they didn't"

He leans back up his fingers on his temples. goodness gracious you're going to be the death of him..." Dear, if you wanted me that badly you didn't have to do that"

You look back making sure the door was closed before getting up to your seat and walking over Sterling's breath hitches when he feels your hands on his body. He asked what you're doing, and you respond. " I do want you, but I wanted to try something different." Almost immediately, he gets it. He covers his face with one hand, trying to hide the pink dust on his cheeks. You feel fingers on your back "here? I don't know, i-" your Professor stutters; too much risk...but the idea is doing something to him. The idea of punishing you of doing such a new Act right in this room excites him.

... have you been going without underwear all day...

Damn it...

"Ok... maybe this once... but you have to keep qu-!"

You practically pounce on him your lips slamming into his against you he is powerless his eyes slowly fluttering closed as you feel his hand running through the back of your hair and around your body attempting to pull you closer.

Funny... Oliver said you must be quiet, yet he's the one moaning and whimpering, feeling your hands slide underneath his now wrinkled collared shirt and sweater vest. Judging by how his hand slowly slides up your uniform bottoms, He must like this idea as much as you do.

Your tongue invades his mouth in an attempt to keep him silent. Only to immediately break the kiss, panting, "Get on the desk. I need to be inside you."

With a smile, you obey, leaning your body over your professor's desk messing up Sterling's meticulous desk. You couldn't help yourself looking back at him and shaking your butt. Only for you to squeak when Sterling slaps your ass. "Do that again, and you won't be able to come to classes tomorrow."

Sterling purrs, taking in the sight of you over his desk in your University uniform. His fingers danced across your sides, playing with the rim of your bottoms before slowly rolling them off.

He put his fingers into his mouth, coating them in his saliva before playing with your hole. Teasing you making them sink in and out, preparing your hole for something bigger.

You bite your lip, hearing him unbuckling his belt as his pants fall to the ground.

Sterling took off his glasses, setting them on the edge of the desk before slowly sinking his cock inside you. His mouth agape, grabbing at your ass and hips, his pace starting slow and deep. the feeling of his sensitive cock getting squeezed, milked by your tight walls. The rush knowing that anyone could walk in and see you, his student bent over the desk, and him your teacher balls deep inside, giving you pleasure that others could dream.

Pour Oliver shutters at the thought, quickening his pace; you feel his chest press against your back. Giving you Goosebumps as you feel his tongue and lips on your neck, nibbling and sucking. He hopes that hickey is visible he wants your classmates gawk at the marks he makes on your neck. Not knowing that the owner of those marks is the one silencing the distracted students.

They will never know that your bent over the desk getting pounded by the very professor whom they say is a stickler with the rules, and is very strict.

"please, Sir harder!" you beg pressing your ass harder against his moving hips.

Sterling exhaled in response giving you what you wanted. At the same time, keep in mind of how loud his balls are slapping against your body. Sterling covers your mouth with his hand, not wanting you to get too loud as he hits that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. While your mouth is covered he takes the opportunity to sink his teeth into your shoulder hard, Sterling fuck you with a reckless abandon chasing his orgasm. Your eyes roll back letting out all your noises curses and pleads of his name all for it to be quickly silenced by his hand, ."I'm close! you're close to I can feel it you're milking my cock as if you hunger for my cum, cum for me. Fucking cum while your professor fills you up over his desk!".

Sterling gasps fucking you through his own orgasm. He only takes his hand off your mouth for a second, Nails digging into your sides as he bites into you one final time. Sending you over the edge cumming around his cock, trying not to be loud, but you cannot guarantee you've lost control.

Sterling stays inside of you wanting to completely fill you up before he pulles out.

You pant coming down from your high. " that scream might have been too loud" Sterling finally pulls his softening cock out of you reaching for his glasses giving you a kiss on the head in between. " Don't worry if someone did hear something; I'll handle it for them; I'm a pure angel. We can try this again next time." he says, giving you a mischievous smile with his wrinkled outfit and disheveled hair. " waoh~ look at you taking risks" you gave him a light-hearted chuckle before getting up and reaching for your bottoms.

He Chuckles, pulling you close " I can't help it. You've ruined me, my dear,"

[firespirited]

New camera! It shipped overnight -probably by train- it has Wi-Fi!

So my first test shots were moving dog, skin tones (it didn’t blow out Felicia in the goth bratz, properly rendered the difference between Nevra’s olive tone and Yasmin) then pinks (my phone camera chokes on these), low light then finally deployed the flash for details to see every little scuff, flock, dot, piece of fluff and the lip repaint texture. Exactly what I need. The last photo was taken at 5cm away but this lil thing is supposedly capable of shooting macro at 1cm close.

[Yes the doll cabinet is a mess, yes I will clean up Gigi (pink gal). The fluff on my floor is because I’m in the middle of frogging a sweater back into balls of chenille yarn. Lily the dog is hard to photograph: she makes direct eye contact but stays moving so you either get red eyed demon dog or a fluffy blur. I also took these photos while half asleep.]

On a funny sidenote, I think the reason I managed to snag this camera at way below the usual price (I was willing to pay 100$ more) is that it’s called Powershot SX620 HS and HS is shorthand for hors service. Any other camera with HS in the description means it’s sold for parts and I deliberately searched for sx620 on its own just in case people didn’t want their working camera mislabelled. The menus are a little worn and it’s dusty, but that’s what toothpick q-tips are for.

[luckycharming]

Wrap Me Up In Your Arms

He felt as if he was dreaming, and surely, he had to be, right? After all, there's no way that his crush and the love of his life was stealing the very breath from his gasping lungs underneath the mistletoe, right? He had to be lucid dreaming because this could never happen to him in his waking moments; these are the stuff that filled those feverish dreams that always left him heated like the roaring flames of the hearth of the fireplace.

The persistent pressure of soft lips against his own and slightly rough, large hands cupping his face like it was fragile and the most precious of jewels, begged to defer and felt startlingly real. Regretfully, Nico forced himself to break the dizzying kiss, faintly tasting the lingering sweetness of rich, dark chocolate and the wintery freshness of mint in his mouth, cheeks flushed a wine-colored red, lips bruised petal-pink from the force of the kiss.

He tried to put some distance between them, not because he wanted to be away from him, far from it, actually; it was so he could catch his breath, be still his beating heart! But Percy would not let him go far, quickly pulling him back into his orbit and staring down at him those mesmerizing, sea-green eyes, coaxing him back into the tides and letting the waves wash over him. He'd risk drowning in those depths if it meant he could feel those lips against his once, would barter his life if it meant he could stay in this warm embrace with strong, sun-kissed arms draped around him like the coziest of sweater on a glacial winter day.

Swallowing audibly, butterflies fluttering relentlessly in the deepest pits of his stomach, Nico tried steeling his nerves and mustering up whatever ounce of courage he possessed to speak up. Percy, however, beat him to the punch.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you all day. Been trying to get you alone since we got here," was his husky murmur, and Nico's was on FIRE, he was blushing so fiercely. Running a hand through his sweaty, dark curls, Nico took a deep breath to ground himself. And wasn't it like Percy to knock him off his feet, leave his chest cracked open and heart exposed, vulnerable?

"And no, I'm not drunk, this isn't some bullshit Christmas prank, and I wouldn't be so careless to play with your heart knowing how deeply you care about me. Surely, you know me better than that, Nico," Percy continued to explain, his tone and gaze serious, none of the suave playfulness from earlier to be found.

Words lodged firmly in the back of his throat, Nico allowed Percy to cage him in, walking him backwards until his back touched a wall. Shrouded in shadows, the noise from their friends enjoying the festivities felt muted. It was just the two of them in this intimate moment, and nobody was going to interrupt it. This was years in the making, years of love and longing and heated, loaded gazes and touches, neither willing to do more than toe the line.

Percy, it seemed, was more than willing to cross the lines and take him with him, and Nico knew he'd follow him to the deepest depths of Tartarus and back, here go hell come, as long as Percy was with him. His heart has stopped being his own from the moment he met the son of Poseidon, and now, Percy is showing him that his heart is in his hands, and the very thought made him feel dangerously choked up.

So, knowing all of this, when Percy tilted his head up, eyes glowing with mirth and love, Nico allowed himself to dive into the deep end. He knew Percy wouldn't let him drown.

[disastrouslyyours]

Since Spamton has the anatomy of a puppet, he could get away with acting like a lifeless toy as a sort of hiding/disguising mechanism. But what would happen if someone found him and starts feeling and squeezing him?

Amber, bestie, this took a wild turn in my brain?? I don't know if this is what you expected, so hit me up if you wanted this to go a different direction lol.

ANYWAYS you find a weird doll in a thrift store, what happens next will shock you!!

Thrift shopping has always been one of your favorite ways to decompress. There was something about mindfully carding through an endless sea of clothing that allowed you to get lost for a couple hours, your mind focusing on the funky fabrics and outlandish outfits in front of you instead of drifting off to various unknowns and anxieties. It was much easier to focus on whether or not you’re willing to pay $5 for a sweater you’ll wear twice before donating again than to consider whether or not moving here was the right decision.

Either way, you found yourself skulking around any one of the local thrift stores at least two times a week. This particular trip happened to be your third in the past six days, which was as good an indicator as any of your mental state. The winter was always particularly rough for you, both mentally and physically, and moving to a new city ended up being more stressful than you had hoped. The lifeless cardigans in front of you weren’t sparking as much joy as they usually did, so you found yourself meandering to other sections of the store. Somehow you ended up rummaging around the toy section, feeling sentimental and nostalgic as you perused colorful shelves lined with Beanie Babies and Lego sets. One item stands out to you as particularly odd, even for a thrift store. A large doll of sorts, reminiscent of a ventriloquist dummy, lies strewn across a shelf all the way in the corner. It’s surrounded by a random assortment of other toys, including a bright red toy phone, a deck of cards, and a handful of Hot Wheels. Looking at it almost makes your stomach turn the same way looking out of a window at night makes your stomach tie itself in knots out of fear that someone would be looking back at you.

Yet, part of you is intrigued by the potentially haunted ventriloquist dummy. You feel your heart vibrate in your chest, its palpitations reverberating off of your ribcage, as you slowly step closer towards the doll. Before you can even process what’s happening, you watch your hand extend out in front of you to cup the doll’s face. Turning it towards you, you admire the attention to detail on the facial features. A cartoonish oversized nose, cute red cheeks, and an ever-present smile adorn the funny lil man on the shelf. You’re drawn to his dual tinted glasses, one lens pink and the other yellow, as they are a particularly unique choice. You can’t shake the feeling like you should know who (or what) this doll is, but you can’t quite place your finger on why. He just seems so familiar, like you’ve seen him before…but where?

Attempting to jog your memory, you lift him off of the shelf and find him surprisingly heavy and suspiciously warm. You reason that he might’ve just been put on the shelf, warm from being in a donation bag or in someone’s arms. The idea that someone once loved him, only to toss him, crosses your mind and nearly chokes you up.

Get a hold of yourself. Your mind has been particularly frazzled this week, so you try not to be too hard on yourself for having a streak of sentiment.

Turning him over in your hands, you decide to investigate to see if you can find proof to confirm your ‘ventriloquist’ theory and slide a hand under his distinguished black jacket. You’re surprised to make contact with another shirt, which seems to be neatly tucked into his pants. You prod around his back for a while, digging your fingers in to try and find a spot for a hand to fit. You find nothing of the sort, but nearly jump out of your skin when you hear a sound coming from the doll in your hands. This new information makes you think that he perhaps isn’t a ventriloquist dummy, and instead might be some sort of custom-made doll. Complete with a custom voice box, although from the sound of it the batteries must be running low. You flip him back over and decide to test your new theory by pressing a finger into the middle of his stomach, resulting in another strange sound. You still couldn’t determine any distinct words, which was odd. If someone put a custom voice box into a doll, then surely it had to have specific dialogue. Maybe I’m not pressing hard enough? You reason, figuring that press both thumbs into the middle of the doll.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for what happened next.

Pressing into his stomach caused his limbs to flail wildly for a moment, accompanied once again by the indistinguishable sound.

What kind of doll talks, moves, and is this size??

This prompts the need for further investigation. You search him for a price tag, finding a small $4.99 label tied to his wrist. Your inner conscience begs you to reconsider, lest the cute cashier judge you for bringing home…whatever this was. Last week they complimented your selection of sweaters, and while you were hoping to woo them again with your choice finds, curiosity got the better of you. You avoided eye contact during the transaction and barely muttered out a have a good one before rushing out of the door and back to your apartment, with a funny little guy curled up in your arms.

***

Fortunately, you managed to return to your place without seeing any of your acquaintances out and about. As you place the thrift store find on your couch, you can’t help but wonder aloud what compelled you to bring him home in the first place. Grateful for the privacy your own home provides, you decide to start your head to toe investigation. Taking a seat next to him on the couch, you begin by lightly skimming your fingers through his hair. So incredibly soft, you mutter to yourself, and out of the corner of your eye you swear you see the doll’s painted cheeks turn a shade darker. Shifting your attention to his face, you cup it in both of your hands and run your thumbs over the smooth plastic of his cheeks. You’re almost positive you see the area surrounding his painted marks flush a dark pink, and you furrow your eyebrows in thought.

“What kind of doll talks, moves, and blushes?” You ponder, letting your hands fall to his shoulders and giving them a soft squeeze before trailing them down his arms to inspect his hands. Cupping one of his hands in yours, you trace the outlines of the joints along his fingers and press your thumb softly into his palm. You thought there might be a button in his hands that would activate his voice box, but found you thought wrong. You settle your hands on either side of him and press, determined to hear his voice again and attempt to make out what he’s saying. Maybe his vocal track will help me determine what he is?

This time as you squeeze into his surprisingly soft midsection, you watch as his mouth opens to release a fit of giggles.

“Oh? Is this some sort of Cyber City Tickle-Me-Elmo?” Shocked, you press again to receive a similar reaction. Third time’s a charm, however, and on your third squeeze he squeaks and slides away from your touch, backing himself against the armrest of the couch and batting at your hands. You recoil with a scream, nearly falling off your couch as you back away from the moving doll in front of you.

“EASY WITH THE GOODS, [Hochi Mama].” His voice is now very clear except for a clip at the end that sounds forced, somehow. You are frozen in horror, a creeping realization settling in that the man in front of you might actually be just that- a man.

“W-what the fuck?” Is all you manage to stammer out as you watch the definitely a man stand from your couch and brush himself off. He shoots you an uneasy smile, his eyes hidden behind his dual tone glasses.

“I COULD ASK YOU THE SAME THING, [Dearest Customer].” He huffs, seemingly annoyed that you dared to question him. “YOU’RE THE ONE WITH THE [Hands On Experience], NOT ME.”

“What are you?” You feel stupid asking, but you can’t think of anything else to say.

“I’M THE [#1 Top Rated Salesman1997], YOUR OLD PAL SPAMTON G. SPAMTON.” He continues to smile at you in a way that makes your skin crawl, his words dripping with confidence as if they clarify anything and everything. You bury your face in your hands and groan. What do I do with a top rated salesman?

[ateneawrites]

Christmas OTP drabble thingie: Rivella 7-12

Note: here's batch number two in my attempt to mask my lack of holiday cheer with mindless otp fluff and to hijack my brain into writing serotonin into existence, prompts from this challenge are here, explained in a bit more detail here but long story short is i don't believe in posting schedules and I'm making these in batches of six as i finish them, this time I'm going with rivella; next batch should be rosenali *knocks on wood*

7. Mistletoe

River wanted the earth to swallow her alive. She'd though she'd gotten rid of all the blasted mistletoe Choriza and Vanity had put all over the place but clearly she hadn't as her loudmouth coworkers, drunk as could be after the office holiday party, were catcalling them and cheering while her and Ella Vaday had a stare down under one of the very few that had survived her purge.

River was the first one to break the eye contact, decided to concentrate better on looking at the floor as her face turned burgundy.

If they hadn't had an audience, and if River were delusional enough to think Ella wasn't out of her league, it would have been rather romantic but the situation at hand was nothing short of mortifying.

"Please don't look so pained, dear" Ella had said "You might hurt my feelings"

It was a nice attempt at trying to put River at ease because Ella was kind like that, but River was not willing to take advantage of Ella being too well mannered to rebuff her and her painfully obvious crush.

So River decided she'd do it herself. Save both of them the trouble, as a Christmas present to both Ella and herself.

She gave Ella a small pained smile, got on the tip of her toes and gave Ella a peck on the cheek while the catcalls turn to booes once their friends realize they're not getting a show.

"I don't want you to kiss me just because you have to" she said before she excused herself to get some air.

8. Making snowmen (+ Wally, bc Ella's miserable looking dog owns my soul)

Ella has a perpetual enemy in the cold weather once it gets under certain temperature. English autumn is lovely and there is something she finds rather romantic in the rain that she wouldn't change for anything but she's just never done well in winter.

Her nose and her fingertips turn perpetually pink from all of the blood trying in vain to keep body heat and every time she comes back home she spends an embarrassingly long time just cuddled onto herself in front of the heater and even longer under the hot shower trying to burn a layer of her epidermis in an attempt to encourage circulation to come back into her limbs.

River jokes that if she'd had it her way Ella'd fly south like the birds come December first and honestly that's not even too far off from the truth but there's certain perks to cold snowy England. Like getting to wake up River the first day of proper fresh snow.

River's eyes light up in delight when she looks out of the window and her excitement is probably one of the few things Ella does enjoy about the cold weather, she'd move mountains to always see River as happy as she is when there's fresh snow in the morning after a storm.

They put on warm clothes and boots (and wrap Wally in the coziest doggy sweater he's got) and play outside in it, even make a snowman (that Wally destroys several times before River gives up on it entirely).

When they get back home, Ella's face is numb and she can feel her eyeballs burn from how cold she is but River kisses her nose and each of her numb fingertips. It's tender and sweet and Ella has never loved anyone else this much in her life. She hopes she never does.

9. Wearing ugly Christmas jumpers

River chokes on her tea as she sees Ella enter the living room wearing what must be the most offensive garment her eyes have ever seen.

"Oh my god. What. Is. That"

"A jumper, dear"

"A hideous jumper" River amends.

"Yes well, we can't go to an ugly jumper Christmas party without hideous jumpers, can we?"

River is immediately alert.

"What is this we you're talking about" Ella smiles. River doesn't like it one bit.

"You have a matching one"

"No"

Ella pouts.

"Please?"

"Absolutely not"

"You did promise to come with me"

That she did. It was extorted out of her after she had gotten one of the best orgasms of her life.

"You'll have to catch me first!" she says as she jumps from her sitting place at the sofa and tries to make a run for it. She doesn't make it far, Ella catches up with her on the hall, traps River between herself and the bedroom door and kisses her breathless.

Of course River ends up wearing the matching hideous thing.

10. Baking holiday treats

River stares in alarm as she sees every surface of both the kitchen and living room taken by various kinds of carefully crafted treats.

There's gingerbread walls and roof pieces that she can tell Ella has painstakingly measured with rulers and sanded with the baking sculpting tools that Scarlett got her for her birthday, cookies cooling on racks, cakes already set on stands waiting to be iced.

It smells like sugar and cinnamon and like River's favorite parts of being cozied up inside when it was cold out.

It also smells like a cry for help.

"Ella?" she calls.

"Riv? Is that you?" she hears from upstairs. River sees Ella walk down the stairs, in her favorite jumper and her hair carefully pinned away from her face and River literally jumps to her.

"Hi" she says in a small voice. Ella hugs her back.

"Why are you here?" Ella finally asks after a minute, looking as confused as she does happy "you were not supposed to be back till tomorrow"

River has a whole speech prepared. About how Vanity had texted her about the crisis they had at work and Kitty telling her about Ella baking her feelings away when she was under stress (although she had kind of worked that one out herself) and that she really needs to get better at not bottling up her emotions but she decides against it.

"I missed you" she simply says, because it is the truth after all, she has missed her terribly so she got an earlier train back. She knows she made the right choice the way Ella's face slowly lights up. River nods in the general direction of the kitchen "need some help?"

Ella nods. There'll be time to talk later.

11. Snogging in front of the fireplace (continuation of prompt number 7)

There was something comforting about being alone in front of the fire for River. She had volunteered to be the one to leave last since she already lived close by so she had decided to relax for a bit in front of the fire, thinking she was alone at last.

"Hey"

Her shoulders instantly shot up and her head moved to face the door in alarm.

"Oh, sorry, I must've startled you" Ella said, she sounded genuinely concerned and normally River would have made more of an effort but she was quite frankly all out of strength to pretend so she just relaxed her shoulders again and stared back at the fire.

"It's alright" she simply said. She heard Ella step closer, carefully, the way you'd approach a wounded thing.

"Mind if I sit down?"

River shrugged as an answer. They stayed in silence for a while, just sat down besides each other on the floor. It's almost companionable, River though.

"It looks to me" Ella started "like there might have been a bit of a misunderstanding, earlier"

River furrowed her brow, looked at Ella again, this time a bit more carefully, taking notice of the curious glint in her eyes and the ever so slight fidgeting of her fingers.

"Oh?"

"With the mistletoe" as if River could forget "I didn't want to kiss you because I had to" she continued "Truth is I—" she bit her lip "I have been trying to figure out a way to ask you out for months, actually"

River's mouth fell open.

"I still would like to if that— if that'd be alright. Not just the kissing" good god was she actually blushing? "but the asking you out bit. We could go grab a bite. Or go out and do something. Anything you'd like if that's" Ella looked down to her lap "something you'd be interested in"

It's been a while since River wanted to smile like someone was physically yanking the corners of her mouth. She crawls closer to Ella, saw the fear of rejection be replaced by the confusion then the anticipation when she realized what River was going to do. It had started out slow but the kiss grew passionate, all the yearning of however long they'd both wanted to do that catching up with them.

When River hid her face in the crook of Ella's neck with a small, overwhelmed sigh she felt Ella tighten up the hold she had on her.

"I'd like that very much" she answered softly at last.

12. Watching a classic holiday film

They really had different definitions of what made for a holiday classic.

Ella had vetoed Shrek the Halls and River had vetoed the black and white thing from the 1940s Ella had tried to pitch to her as "You've Got Mail but it's letters instead of emails and Jimmy Stewart instead of Tom Hanks" but they had found a compromise somewhere in the middle.

Did Meet Me in St. Louis count as a holiday film? River had her doubts but it mattered very little when she was held in Ella's lap, all cozied up under a blanket, feeling safe and happy as Ella hummed along softly to Judy Garland singing Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas in the background.

[dralf0yy]

Wedding Bells || 2 || F.W x Reader

A/N: I AM SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO GET THIS UP BUT ITS FINALLY HERE AAAA!! If i’m being honest, I’m not a big fan of the way I ended this bc it felt rlly unfinished but I felt the need to get it up as soon as I could. I hope you guys enjoy and sorry for the long ass wait 🥺

Word count: 1.6K (aaa she’s a bit sh0rt)

Part 1

Fred landed at the beach just outside his aunt’s old cottage.

The place he proposed to you

The weather was unironically cloudy and cold—identical to the way he felt.

Chills ran up Fred’s spine as he wandered around the beach, taking in the beautiful, calming scene around him. It reminded him of you. More specifically the way you were always remarkably gorgeous without effort, even in your darkest moments, and the way you soothed him with your embrace and kind, loving words.

It made Fred hate himself for abandoning you. You were fragile and even the smallest inconveniences would chip away parts of you that made you happy and whole. Everyone,especially Fred, knew this. He knew that you had cracked when the war broke out and he almost died. And he knew that this time, you had completely shattered, and it was all his fault.

He made his way up the sandy hills, marching through some of the long grass that had sprouted up and halted when he had reached the top. His eyes fluttered closed as he inhaled the salty scent of the ocean, thinking of the day he proposed

One year ago

“Fred where are you taking me?” You giggled as you trailed behind Fred with your hand intertwined with his.

The two of you, and George, had been helping Bill and Fleur fix up their aunt’s old cottage. It had been a long, hard day of redecorating and repainting and the sun was almost completely set

“You’ll see soon enough my love. We’re almost there.. Okay now close your eyes and wait here for a few seconds”

You nodded in response and heard Fred’s soft footsteps shuffling around in the sand. You shifted your weight back and forth between your left and right foot and giggled when you heard your boyfriend curse at the sand under his breath

After a few more seconds of shuffling, you heard Fred whisper

“You can open your eyes now, love”

Your eyes fluttered open slowly and you expected to see his face inches from yours but much to your surprise, he was on one knee clutching a small, black velvet box that fit perfectly in the palm of his hand with a heart shape dug into the sand surrounding the two of you. Fred steadied himself and gazed up into your eyes

“Y/n, these past 6 years with you have been unbelievably amazing. You have shown me what love and true happiness feels like and I will be forever grateful for that. There is no one else I would rather have by my side for the rest of my life, besides George of course,” He joked as a tear cascaded down your cheek

“no one else that I would rather give my love to, wake up next to every morning, have lots of little Weasleys with, and no one else that I would rather marry than you. And the war last year made me realise that I didn’t wanna wait any longer for this. So, Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n.. Will you marry me?”

Tears of joy were now uncontrollably streaming down both your cheeks as you chuckled and silently—but enthusiastically— nodded your head

“Yes! A million times yes!�� You exclaimed and pulled Fred up, bringing your hands around the back of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss that was so full of love and passion that it made his head spin

Present

Fred let out a loud, broken sob and collapsed onto his knees remembering the memory that had once made him so ecstatic. He stayed there with his face buried in his hands for what seemed like hours while mumbling ‘I’m so sorry’ repeatedly to the empty space in front of him

Fred lifted his head back up and the sun was barely visible on the horizon.The sky had slightly cleared in the few hours that he had been there and it became a flurry of yellow, orange, purple and pink streaks.

It was a beautiful image. It was one that you wished you could share with your dearest loved ones when things were bad. It gave Fred the a sense of calmness that he needed to clear his head

“I’m gonna make this right” He stated and disapparated back to the Burrow

***

“Here Y/n/n, have some cake, love” George offered to you. A grateful grin appeared on your face as you took the small, fragile plate with a slice of cake on it from him carefully and snuggled into his side. You sighed tiredly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders

“Something on your mind?”

“Well.. I’m just worried Georgie. What if he’s done something reckless and got hurt or can’t get back to us—?”

“Don’t worry, love I’m right here” Both your heads turned towards the front door, and there, stood the one and only, Fred Weasley

You immediately sprung off the couch and out of George’s embrace, dropping the plate of cake in the process, and ran towards Fred. You jumped on him, wrapping your legs around his waist, and buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“Oh my Godric! You’re okay” You squeaked and hugged him tighter. He let out a quiet chuckle and gave you a kiss on the top of your head before setting you back down on the ground. He looked at you with a faint smile on his face, looking as if he was trying not to break again

He didn’t manage to keep the facade up for very long. He pulled you into his chest and burst into tears. Through his fit of sobs, you could hear him choke out an apology

“Shh it’s okay, Fred. We don’t have to talk about this right now..” You cooed soothingly—but slightly muffled— into his chest. You pulled away to look up at his face

“How about you head up for tonight? We can talk in the morning” Fred nodded and started to trail off towards the stairs with your hand wrapped inside his but stopped when he realised you weren’t moving

“A- Are you not coming up with me?” he hiccuped. You opened your mouth to answer but George beat you to it

“Actually Y/n, I think you better head off to bed. I need to talk to Fred”

Too tired to protest, you muttered an ‘okay’ and tread up the creaky stairs of the Burrow leaving the twins alone to talk.

Fred awkwardly stood in the room and rocked back and forth on his feet looking anywhere but at George who was patiently waiting for you to be out of earshot

“I’ll get straight to the point,” He snapped, “I hope you’ve acknowledged that you messed up, Fred. Y/n spent the last 5 hours crying and worrying about you, wondering what she could’ve done wrong for you to walk out on her like that—”

“She didn’t—”

“I KNOW SHE DIDN’T,” George sighed in frustration, “I’ve tried to mend her as much as I could, but the rest is up to you. She’s like a sister to me and I don’t wanna lose her because of something stupid that you did to hurt her. Now go up there and make it up to her and don’t ever take an amazing person like her for granted— because we both know that Y/n won’t give you a 3rd chance”

Fred nodded and trailed up the stairs towards his childhood bedroom, not knowing how to respond as it was a little unusual to see George so serious and worked up about something.

Fred quietly pushed the door open, expecting you to be asleep and not wanting to wake you. He stepped in and felt his heart ache at the sight of you curled up in George’s bed with tears streaming down your face, with muffled hiccups coming from you and clutching onto one of Fred’s christmas sweaters, staring at the floor

You peered up towards the doorway where Fred was standing. Your teary gaze shifted back to the floor next to a small mound of clothing. Your hushed hiccups ceased and the room was filled with deafening silence

Fred’s shoes came into your line of sight and his hand made contact with your shoulder.

“D’you wanna move over to my bed, love?” He whispered gently. You lazily nodded your head and sat up. You made your way over to Fred’s bed and hesitantly lied down on the edge of the mattress. A deep sigh left Fred’s lips as mattress dipped next to you

You unhurriedly shifted around and stared into Fred’s cinnamon coloured eyes with your own Y/e/c orbs. You noticed that they were bloodshot and slightly puffy, but nevertheless, they were still as enchanting as always.

You cast your gaze down towards the pillow, taking a deep and shaky breath. “Be honest,” You said in a voice that was barely a whisper, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” Fred exclaimed suddenly, making you jump, “Sorry I- No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just—I was being a git and I was just doubting everything, you know? I was.. I was anxious that you didn’t really wanna marry me or that I wasn’t actually ready” he said in a quieter voice.

You nodded and sighed, succumbing to the warmth of Fred’s chest and absorbed what he just confessed.

You decided to leave a lot of things unsaid. Knowing that he was willing to come back and make things right again was enough for you to give him another chance—though you knew you would no matter what he had done anyway.

The familiar sound of Fred’s heartbeat reminded you that he was there, and there for good, along with the feeling of his arms tightening around your frame and your entangling legs. Things were at a fair balance once again, and the two of you couldn’t be more content with your journey of love

***

Main Taglist: @paigeyisme @slytherinlovesgryffindor @cleopatera @accio-rogers @beacosta27 @anyasthoughts

Wedding Bells Taglist: @wand3ringr0s3 @angel-of-blue @stuckindilemma @angstywhore @imdixonsangel @girl22334 @gredandforges @dorothyofcosta @drvcopotter

Fred & George Taglist: @thisuserlovesyouandyouandyou

[sweetsubharry]

hi! do you have any fic recs of like really fluffy one shots

Hiya!! yes I do!! Aren’t they just the best sometimes?? Sorry this took me a few days to do! I had over 260 fics to go through on ao3 just under fluff (I really need to tidy my bookmarks!)  💖 There’s 79 in this list so it’s a long one!! ^-^

please stay safe and read the tags everyone! :)

freeze this moment in a frame and stay like this by rosesau

Harry (not so) secretly crushes on the cute footie player and fills pages with sketches of him.

Thunder started it by booloveshiscuppycake

Harry's always been scared of thunder storms. But louis' always been there to comfort him. Friendship and comfort turn into love. (Fluffy as shit)

but he cant be what you need (if he's eighteen) by lingerielarries

“I need you to do something for me.” Harry said, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger.

“It seems like you’re asking me to kill for you, H.” Louis laughed nervously.

“It’s nothing that drastic, I promise. It’s just. I don’t think it’s a secret that I’m not a.. normal eighteen year old.” Louis furrowed his eyebrows at that, narrowing his eyes at the younger boy.

“Are people giving you a hard time?” Louis wondered. Harry shifted in his seat and brushed some of his fringe off his forehead.

“Yeah, that’s. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.” Harry swallowed nervously. He could feel the sweat pooling at his hairline so he wiped it with the sleeve of his sweater. “I need you to uhm, pretend to be my boyfriend.”

or

the one where harry is sick of getting bullied and casts louis as the hot punk boyfriend to scare them away. louis needs harry to return the favor.

punk!louis and flowerchild!harry

the love is ours to make (so we should make it) by lingerielarries

“I’m.. Harry. I nanny? For Ernest and Doris?” Harry responded.

“A nanny? How old even are you? You look twelve.” Louis remarked. Something caught Louis’ eye, and a closer look revealed that Harry had a coat of pink nail polish on his fingers.

“Nineteen. I’m nineteen.” Harry replied.

“Right. Nineteen, wears pink, flower crowns and paints his nails. Who the actual fuck did my mum hire?”

or

the one where louis takes some time off from life to return home, only to be met with a strange boy in pink and a flowercrown as the nanny of his siblings.

All I See is You by ElegantSurrender

Even with the blood gushing from his nose, he couldn’t keep his thoughts on anything but the boy in front of him. He was just so… pretty. He smiled to himself, which only seemed to worry his boyfriend more.

“Why’re you smiling?” Louis asked confusedly, moving Harry’s bloody hand away, and replacing it with his, pinching his nose shut with a tissue. “You’re bleeding, and you’re fucking smiling.”

“Seeing you makes me happy.”

(or the one where Harry has a bloody nose and Louis takes care of him, and Harry really really loves Louis)

Pretty Blue Eyes (I don't care about the nightmares) by justgotowisharder

Harry has nightmares, Louis hates sharing the bed, they end up talking about dreams, they read Freud and they fall in love in the process.

Breathe by dontlietomehoney

Harry has an asthma attack and Louis is scared to death. What follows after though, scares both boys, pulling them apart and bringing them together.

with your love we could breathe underwater by luminescents

Harry’s brow furrows, a look of confusion spreading over his face. “But I am real. I exist, see,” he says, raising a hand out of the water and wiggling his fingers at Louis.

Louis finds himself relaxing a bit. Harry seems harmless really. And he’s quite cute, for something that’s not supposed to exist. If Louis is indeed having a hallucination right now, at least it’s a cute one.

AU where Harry is a mermaid, Louis is a human, and they both discover a lot more than they anticipated.

yes, you make my life worthwhile by orphan_account

Harry whispers to him that this feels like every dream he’s had for the last three years and Louis kisses his temple, behind his ear, across his cheeks and by the edge of his jaw. He runs the back of his finger across Winnie’s sleep-warm cheeks and sighs, the weight of the world finally off his shoulder.

Louis' a pediatrician, Harry's a preschooler teacher, and they're having a baby.

Weigh Us Down (We're In Love) by orphan_account

Harry’s eyes widen slightly at that. “We’re friends?”

Louis nods eagerly, smiling even wider. “Of course we are! You’re like, my first ever friend here. We just moved in, you see. Did I already tell you about that? Anyway! Maybe you can stay for dinner and I can show you my toys?”

Harry smiles. “You’ll let me play with you?”

Louis nods again, excited. “Of course!” He looks thoughtful for a moment, and then he’s slipping off the couch and crouching in front of Harry. “Oh, and Mum always kisses my wounds after she fixes them up. It makes me feel loads better all the time, so.” He leans forward and puckers his lips, pressing them over the bandage on Harry’s knee.

(harry and louis first meet when they’re eight and ten. this is their story throughout the years.)

Breathe by Jade_eyed

Can you write a Larry high school AU where Harry's a sophomore and Louis' his senior boyfriend and Harry's being bullied during class and has a panic attack and all he's saying is 'Louis' so someone goes into louis' classroom and gets him and louis' like freaking out when he finds out and just really fluffy and stuff i just need this okay

[ I changed it a bit , I'm sorry babe I tried. :( ]

Cause If You Let Me, Here's What I'll Do by stylesforstiles

Five times where Harry is Louis' baby

Zero Means Nothing When I'm With You by StripedAndBowtied

Louis doesn't know what he's looking for until he finds it.

Harry just knows he may defy his gender norms, with his height and clumsiness, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want litters of pups running around while he does domestic things all day long.

In other words, boy meets boy and no one can stop pining.

All my senses come to life by erikaeurekajoe

And it was true. Harry's senses were all coming to life, on overdrive in fact because a handsome blue-eyed stranger was holding his hands.

Because of Louis Tomlinson's Arse by AggressiveStress

One in which Harry is a clumsy Uni student that first sees Louis leaning over, picking up his things with his arse very prominent. Harry then falls down the stairs and Louis- wearing a nice little beanie- helps him back to his feet.

In All Its Imperfections by BriaMaria

From: Louis Tomlinson To: Undisclosed Recipients

Hello!

I’ve asked the front desk and you lovely folks are the ones who are on the same level as me in the car park. I found a to-do list today that looked somewhat important because it has lines of poetry scribbled at the bottom that seemed like they might be for a card project. The stationary has a moose in a canoe at the top of it (and he is quite adorable). Let me know if it’s yours!

Cheers!

“Oh. My. Fucking. God,” Harry whispered, his eyes darting over the sentences again willing them not to make sense. They did, they did make sense. “Oh. My. Bloody. Fucking. God.”

The next thing he knew he was on the floor, staring at the ceiling, with a very concerned Liam hovering over his head.

"What happened, mate?" Liam asked.

Harry just pointed to his computer.

Liam bent over Harry’s desk to read the email. “What? This isn’t bad. Is that your to-do list? Did you finally come up with the inside text for those cards?”

“Leeyum" he groaned. “It’s what’s on the list.”

“Oh,” Liam paused for a beat. “Is it dirty stuff?”

Harry nodded.

There was more silence. And then, “Dirty stuff with Louis?”

Delirious in Love by yourpricelessadvice (orphan_account)

Louis is there for Harry waking up from minor surgery; he wouldn't miss it for the world. For two reasons.

Stars Will Align For Us by 2tiedships2

"The serial monogamist is single," Niall said by way of introduction when he sat down across from Harry in the canteen.

Harry sipped his chocolate milk. "What are you going on about?"

"Your alpha dream boat," Niall said. "That tiny little footie player? I heard from Hannah that he's broken it off with his boyfriend so he’s single and ready to flamingle. Now's the time to make your move."

Harry sipped his chocolate milk harder to keep himself from replying.

Or the one where Harry is an omega at a loss of how to get past his pining and gain the attention of Louis...especially considering the alpha is always in a relationship.

(twenty minutes later) wound up in the hospital by callmelover

“Baby, I think a quick trip to A&E might do you some good, hm?” Louis keeps his voice as calm as possible. He doesn't want to startle Harry or make him scared, but he knows that Harry’s fever is too high and he can't risk Harry choking himself into another attack when he's so poorly.

He hears a sharp intake of breath come for Harry and he knows Harry is starting to panic. Louis moves his hand from Harry's hair to his back, rubbing circles into his sweat-soaked shirt.

“No, no. Shh, don't worry, darling. Everything is okay, you’ll be okay. I just know that the doctors will be able to make you feel much better much sooner than I can...Just want you to get healthy as soon as possible, okay?”

-

or the one where harry has the flu and louis is a protective, nervous-wreck of a boyfriend

You live in my heart by styleztomlinson

As soon as they’re done with their set, Louis only has one thing on his mind and that’s to get out of there as soon as possible.or,Harry is sick during their performance at the iHeartRadio festival. Afterwards, Louis takes cares of his baby, and dotes on his husband.

Take Care by secretlylarry

Louis really does love to take care of Harry when he's sick.

if we got nothing, we got us by tumsa

Harry is Louis' baby and he's sick as well.

Peppermint and Lavender (and Coffee) by 2tiedships2

“He was there again,” Louis announced by way of greeting. “Lottie was right and she can never know.”

"What the fuck are you talking about?” Niall asked as he snapped his laptop closed.

“The omega, Niall. He was there today. Just sitting in the corner looking pretty. Or at least his back is. He hasn’t turned around when I’m available to see. I know he’s beautiful though.”

"Okay?” Niall questioned. “What does that have to do with Lottie?”

Louis let out a huff. "She told me I shouldn’t work at a coffee shop. She was right.”

Or the one where Louis might have met the love of his life in a coffee shop. But that’s not how it’s supposed to happen.

So Long I've Been Waiting by kikikryslee

Niall held up his glass in a toast. “Cheers.” Harry stared at Louis as he brought the glass up to his lips, unsure of what to do. It wasn’t like he could refuse the drink, but he certainly didn’t want to have any champagne. Louis monitored everyone else, and as soon as they all had their heads tilted back, drinking their mimosa, he reached out and knocked Harry’s glass right out of his hand, sending it crashing to the floor. “Oh, no!” Louis pretended to be shocked at what had just happened. “Harry, you’re so clumsy. You dropped your glass.” “Yes,” Harry said seriously. “I am very clumsy.” --- Or, the one where Harry and Louis are having their first baby, and keeping it a secret until the end of the first trimester is a lot harder than they thought it would be.

Nothing's Gonna Stop Me But Divine Intervention by kikikryslee

“So… what’s next on the soul mate search?” Louis asked. “I don’t know,” Harry answered. “Whatever I’m doing isn’t working. I’m not finding him anywhere.” “He’ll get here. I know it." “Yeah. I know he’s out there somewhere; I just have to figure out where.” --- Or, the soul mate AU where Harry overthinks everything having to do with finding the love of his life, and Louis doesn't think there's a Mr. Right for him at all. It takes them a while to realize that their soul mate is the person they want it to be: each other.

We Made These Memories for Ourselves by supernope

Breath held, Harry squints his eyes open and focuses on the first stick. A blue line. Harry breathes out an unsteady breath. He’s pretty sure he read that one blue line is a negative, but he fishes the box from the bottom of the pile just to make sure.

“Negative,” he confirms, voice echoing around the small room. “Next.”

Now that he’s feeling a little less shaky, he scans the rest of the tests at once, is met with a headache-inducing mixture of pink plus signs and blue double lines. His heart rate picks up until it’s pounding triple-time in the base of his throat and the pit of his stomach, thundering in his ears and throbbing in his temples. He flips over the rest of the boxes slowly, but he knows what they’re going to say before he even looks.

[or, Louis is a footballer, Harry owns a bakery, and they're having a baby.]

taken by the wind by scrunchyharry

When he decided to move to London with his sister, Harry thought he would finally get to learn how to control his magic. He couldn't possibly have predicted that he would fall for her neighbour.

Or the one where Harry is a clumsy witch and Louis is making everything worse just by existing.

Piece by Piece by SadaVeniren

He rubbed his hand over his lower stomach and closed his eyes. Louis was going to lose his fucking mind.

(aka Harry tells Louis he's pregnant and it goes as expected)

And We Linger On by stylesforstiles

Harry is pouting. Louis takes care of him

There's a Hole In My Soul, Can You Fill It? by stylesforstiles

Sometimes Harry is so tired. Louis always wants to fix it.

one glance and the avalanche drops by Wankerville

It's strange, honestly, having someone so gorgeous in his kitchen, and not only physically gorgeous, but, like, the everything else gorgeous. The type of gorgeous that Louis wants his life to always be covered in. The type of gorgeous he wants lying in sweatpants and an old t-shirt on his couch when he gets home from class. The type of gorgeous he wants to have shoving crisps down the front of his shirt. The type of goddamn gorgeous he wants to kiss, and coddle, and like, love.

Which is ridiculous- he doesn't know him. Pfft.

(or an au wherein louis buys a christmas tree and harry is the boy in leggings who delivers it. they are a christmas classic.)

Do Not Falter (There's a Star Ahead) by LadyLondonderry

It's Christmas Eve, and every single one of Louis' family members are crowded inside his little flat. Really, what more could he ask for on his birthday?

The present he never knew he wanted - in the form of an omega from his past - might just make this his most memorable Christmas.

Right Here Waiting by lovelarry10

Louis and Harry are expecting a baby. Harry's heavily pregnant and nesting madly, determined to make their home ready for their baby.

Blow Out the Candles, Baby by iwillpaintasongforlou

Louis' been planning Harry's 20th birthday party for weeks, and Harry's too sick to move. Louis might be the kind of sap who tries to nurse him back to health with cuddles and jokes and cupcakes for two.

Never Let You Fall by iwillpaintasongforlou

Harry slips on stage and gets a minor concussion, and Louis insists that he spend the night in the hospital just in case. He then turns into a protective baby lion because that is his Harry and he'll be damned if anything happens to him on Louis' watch. Harry rolls his eyes a lot but doesn't really mind.

Asthma and Bad Jokes by Larry_Klaine_Stylinson

When Harry has an asthma attack on stage, Louis has to go and help him. He leaves Niall in charge of keeping the audience entertained.

All I Need is Oxygen (and You) by lululawrence

There are only two ways to navigate Bloomfield High School: become popular or make yourself invisible.

With the help of his best mate Niall, Harry’s introduction to high school hadn’t been half bad. Despite being a “bandie” – the lowest of the low in the ancient hierarchy of high school –Harry had somehow managed to survive freshman year relatively unscathed. So naturally, Harry would have been perfectly happy to resume his position of invisible trombone player number four for the remainder of high school. But one day something drastic happened, something that would change the course of Harry’s entire existence (probably).

It was the last football game of his freshman year, and the band was back in the stands after performing a rousing rendition of Bloomfield’s alma mater during half time. Harry was gracelessly wiping the slobber from the mouthpiece of his trombone when he saw him.

Louis Tomlinson.

Or...a High School AU where Harry is a bandie and Louis is the epitome of cool, so naturally, Harry must find a way to get his attention and win his affections.

i’d burn this city down to show you the light by you_explode

Harry's a sheltered rich kid and Louis's a punk with a heart of gold. They meet when Louis breaks into Harry's house, Harry obtains an instant and all-encompassing crush, and they spend the summer falling into a whirlwind romance.

put your head on my shoulder by wayfared

Niall gives Harry until the end of marching season to either a) make a move on Louis Tomlinson or b) get the fuck over him. Either is easier said than done. Basically, your High School AU with a drum beat.

we should get jerseys, 'cause we make a good team by ellisaco

Harry's not very good at football, but he's aces at cheering Louis on.

Snow by hlftanna

Louis hid something from him. Harry was 100% sure of that. He knew him better than he knew himself. And. He. Hid. Something. From. Him. Harry just hasn't figured out what. Because if Louis wanted to hide something from anyone he usually succeeded because he was Louis Tomlinson.

Use Your Words by zedi

based off this prompt: collage au where jock!harry always serenades flowercrown!louis with love songs in their music class. what nobody knows is that harry actually kinda means the words he sings.

But instead it's Louis as the jock and Harry as the flowerchild because I do what I want.

see the truth (it's me for you) by orphan_account

If you asked Louis the first day of his French Literature class what he’d be doing on the last, he’d probably never have guessed it would involve helping a poorly Harry Styles study for the final exam. Good thing he’s not a betting man.

(Or the one where Louis and Harry spend an entire semester ignoring each other after a one-night stand, only to come face to face when Harry manages to catch the stomach flu during finals week. Sometimes fate is funny like that.)

calling out for somebody to hold tonight by heartinsidemine

“Dunno why I can’t sleep,” is the first thing Harry says into the still, quiet night.

“New flat, new noises,” Louis murmurs, finally setting the kettle on the stove and turning properly toward him. “New responsibilities, too, eh? Second year, you’re working your way up in the world.”

Harry rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Nothing’s really new, though, is it? I mean, the location, but… I’ve got the same job I had last year, same basic courses, same workload…” He sighs out, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You and me are in the same boat, though,” Louis murmurs to him. He hates seeing Harry like this, even though rationally he knows that he can’t do anything about Harry’s insomnia. “Finding it difficult to sleep myself. Was gonna turn on the telly, maybe the cooking channel until I fall asleep. Care to join me?”

He doesn’t think twice about the offer before making it; it only makes sense. They’re both exhausted and they both sleep better with a cuddle, and anyway Louis would absolutely rather have a conversation partner than only the walls of his room for company.

Running Down To The Riptide by sweaterpawstyles

"I can't give you your present yet, Lou."

Louis furrowed his brows. "And why is that, my love?"

Harry smiled at his lap. "Because your present is under my sweater," he pulled his free hand that wasn't laced with Louis' and gently laid it on his stomach. "I'm pregnant."

Or

It's New Year's Eve and Harry has a surprise under his sweater

Song For The Springtime by sunshiner

“Cherry blossoms,” Harry mumbles. “The solution’s cherry blossoms.”

Uni AU.

the happiest place in our universe by tippytoetomlinstyles

Harry holds Louis’ hand and looks around at all the exciting and beautiful things and Louis looks at him because he finds him the most beautiful and exciting thing there is.

or the one where Louis takes Harry to Disneyland and Harry convinces Louis to wear Mickey Mouse ears to match his Minnie Mouse ears.

Made From Love by lovelarry10

It's almost Christmas, and amongst the preparations, Louis' realised something about his husband Harry.

Harry, however, seems to be oblivious.

Louis' determined to open Harry's eyes and make him realise the real magic that's happening this Christmas...

Another Constellation to Trace by screwstyles

Louis wiggles his eyebrows. “I’m winning that bet.”

“What bet?” comes Niall’s excited voice from behind them, followed by footsteps. “I wanna be in on the bet!” he shouts, prompting Harry to quickly roll down his shirt sleeve and straighten his shirt where it’s still crinkly after Louis’ hands.

Niall takes one look at them and purses his lips in a tight line. “Were you guys making out again? Isn’t the fire meant to die down a bit after eight years?”

“Trust me, the fire is still very much alive,” Louis winks at Harry. “One could even say it’s cooking something.”

-

Mpreg AU: Louis and Harry bet on who can keep Harry's pregnancy a secret for longer. Neither of them is particularly good at it, and it doesn't help that their soulmate tattoos make it even harder.

another pair of feet by honey_beeing

where Harry is pregnant and Louis is an oblivious idiot.

We Were Made to Love by supernope  

“Everything all sorted? Need help with the buckles? I know they’re a bit tricky in this compartment.”

The voice startles Louis out of his daze, and he turns toward the voice to let him know he figured it out. When he catches sight of the owner of the voice, though, his response dies in his throat. Whatever he had imagined the conductor of a children’s train that rides around the shopping centre in Leeds would look like, this is certainly not it.

Leaning through the window, arms folded across the sill, is a green-eyed angel with cherry red lips stretched wide in a smile and dimples flirting in his cheeks. A black conductor’s hat is the only confirmation that this is not some gorgeous stranger who’s come to flirt with Louis through the window of a children’s train, but is just a man doing his job.

[or, Harry drives a kiddie train in the shopping centre for the summer and is obsessed with babies, and Louis never stood a chance.]

here comes the sun by orphan_account

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Louis promises, his pink, chapped lips moving slowly in the cold. It matches the beanie on his head—pink, because they found out this morning that they’re having a girl and that’s just.

Harry’s going to be a dad. To a little girl. Five months from now he’ll be holding her in his arms, and she’ll be so lovely and small.

They’re going to have a spring baby and she’s probably going to have Louis’ eyes. What a blessing that would be. Harry crosses his fingers on the hand inside his pocket, hoping that she does. He’ll love her either way—blue or green or even brown eyes, it doesn’t matter—but he’d really like them to be blue, he thinks.

[Harry is a pediatric specialist, Louis is a neurosurgeon. All they want is a baby.]

So Put Your Hands In (The Holes of My Sweater) by Kat_rawr

“Are you gonna kiss me then?” He asks so quiet he isn’t even sure Louis heard him.

“I think it’s bad luck if I don’t.“ Louis’ breath is hot on Harry’s skin in the cold air. They stand in the dark; Louis’ face only lit up by the yellow-ish light from the street light a few metres away. The light over the door of their building hasn’t worked in years.

“Okay,” Harry says, and of course his cheeks heat up. There are definitely butterflies in stomach and his mouth is definitely dry.

or,

Harry and Louis go on a lot of not-dates

A Little Kind of Magic by Star55

A tiny tale of Louis' Very Important Birthday and Christmas at Hogwarts that Harry loves celebrating with his best friend whom he absolutely is not in love with. No matter what Niall says. (He's a little in love with Louis.)

it tastes like you, only sweeter by EmmyLouWho

Sometimes Harry hates being a second year, like when all his older friends get to go to Hogsmeade and he has to stay behind in the castle. Luckily, Harry has a Louis to make everything better.

For the prompt: “I’m not allowed to go to Hogsmeade but you always tell me stories about it and bring me candy from Honeydukes”

Sun-Dappled by QuickedWeen

Louis and his best friend Harry are in their seventh year at Hogwarts, facing down their future together. Louis has been in love with his best friend for as long as he can remember, and he begins to feel a sense of urgency as the second semester begins. Finally he hatches a plan to tell Harry about his feelings on Harry's birthday.

Sweet Like Sunshine by orphan_account

When Louis saves him from some seventh years bullying him on his lack of Quidditch skills, Harry takes offense. Louis offers to teach him to make up for it. They fall in love somewhere along the way.

Featuring one exasperated Niall, trips to Hogsmede and many flying sessions.

Follow Me Down This Time by supernope

Harry first noticed Louis in his second term at Hogwarts, and despite three years of inventing ways to stumble across Louis, he's never managed to actually work up the courage to speak to him. Also known as, self-indulgent Hogwarts AU, because every fandom needs Hogwarts AUs.

For Reasons Wretched and Divine by panicmoonwalk

Niall’s head was sitting in the fireplace, wide grin lighting up his features as flames licked the bright tips of his hair. Louis promptly dropped his tray at the sight.

“Bloody hell!” He yelled, half at the sudden appearance of Niall in the fire and half at the scalding cocoa he’d just dropped on his bare foot. “What are you doing?!”

Niall just continued to grin, clearly highly amused by Louis hopping on one foot and desperately trying to search for a weapon he could use to beat his friend’s head out of the fireplace.

“Well,” Niall began. “We’re going on an adventure!”

Or, the one where Louis and Harry’s Christmas holiday at Hogwarts is rudely interrupted when they’re dragged off on a tropical wizard’s vacation, featuring some angry centaurs, a spell gone wrong, and the ‘weirdest birthday anyone’s ever had. Ever’.

Loving with a Little Twist by hrrytomlinson

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know Niall! I just promised my mother I’m bringing my boyfriend - a boyfriend I don’t have - to Thanksgiving dinner. What should I do? I can’t call back and be like, ‘Oh yeah mom, that boyfriend I said that I have, I don’t actually have. Sorry to disappoint you.’ My life is ruined.” Harry returns to suffocating himself with the pillow.

Niall laughs and Harry growls at his best friend’s unwarranted happiness in this life-ending situation. Harry is fucked. Fuck. He needs a boyfriend. Fuck.

(or a thanksgiving themed fake/pretend relationship au)

everywhere (i wanna be with you) by itiswhatitisbutterfly

Harry and Louis meet because they have terrible friends, they fall in love because something feels right in a world of uncertainty and shifting grounds. Louis is an actor and Harry is a model at the top of his game, the best things in life are the most unexpected ones and the things that hit you when you are least expecting it.

Featuring winter in London, nights in Paris, early mornings in New York, burning heat in Monte Carlo and an enduring love spent transcending four corners of the globe.

on a wednesday, in a cafe by wreckedboyfriends

“What can I get for you today?” he asked without looking up, arranging the last of the pastries.

“Have any recommendations? Never been here before, actually.” Harry hit his head on the top of the case in his haste to look at the source of the voice. It was a really beautiful voice, small and high and just lovely, if a voice could be lovely. Harry thought so. “Alright, mate?” the man asked when Harry finally composed himself, rubbing the top of his head as he took his place at the register.

Harry opened his eyes, and fuck. If Harry had thought his voice was lovely, the man himself was on a whole other level. “Alright, mate?” He repeated and shit. Harry had been openly staring for quite awhile, hadn’t he?

“Yeah,” Harry replied, and it came out sounding like a semi trailer running over gravel. He cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he repeated. “Um, the cherry danish is quite good, I think. ’S my favorite.”

The man smiled. “One cherry danish it is, then.”

OR Harry’s spent the last year with six locks on his door, a pair of too-flamboyant boots buried in the back of his closet, and insecurity issues the size of a mammoth. Louis changes some of that, but Harry changes the most.

I Long For You by AnotherAnonymousWriter

Thirty minutes later, he's sat on a bench in Hyde Park with a book in his lap and a travel mug with hot tea in his hand. Not far from where he's sat, a group of boys are playing football and a bunch of children are chasing each other. Life is good.

Or at least, life is good until he hears a familiar “LOOK OUT!” and sees a football flying in the direction of his face.

And then everything is black.

(Harry gets hit in the head by various objects and falls for a boy with blue eyes.)

Let It Snow by thebrainisafunnyplace

Bakery owner Harry Styles is always cold, until he hires local university student, Louis Tomlinson to work as a cashier. When the storm of the year hits, the boys find themselves stuck together inside the bakery the night before Christmas Eve. Luckily, they have each other to keep warm.

everything i can arrange, every part of me you change by orphan_account

“Don’t you try that shit with me,” Niall spits the second he reaches Louis, pulling off the hood with force. “What the hell is this?” He plops down next to Louis on the empty bleacher and unceremoniously pushes a sheet of crumpled paper in his face.

Netflix and Chill Buddy Application

It’s like no matter how hard Louis tries, he can’t seem to run away from this stupid fucking flyer. All the girls (and some of the boys) in every one of his classes have been talking about it all week. It’s on every wall of every building on campus. Louis went for a jog last night and he nearly tripped and died over a loose one on the football track.

[Harry needs a big spoon and Louis refuses to let anyone steal his position. Based on this post.]

No words by becharlatan

Harry is a music student who never talks because he's a total introvert. Louis happens to bump into him by accident and as if like the constellations, the two have aligned their paths together despite their differences.

Sun Emoji Moon Emoji by mybeanieandme

For the prompt:

University!au: Harry works at a cafe as the busboy and Louis just really wants to get to know him. (Louis pines for an insecure Harry for a semester)

nonstop earthquake dreams of you by lumineres

And there's heat behind it, blazing, plasmatic, like stars crashing together, like an explosion in space, like a supernova, like a black hole--everything else sucked out of existence. There's no bed and there's no pillow and they're not lying down, just floating somewhere, somehow, and there's no room and there's no X Factor house and there's no Niall snuffling or Liam's deep, even breathing and there's no wind or traffic outside and there's no hum of the heating unit and it's all just Louis. All encompassingly Louis.

or, harry falls hard and finds louis already at the bottom

Kiss From A Rose by lovelarry10

Harry is the quiet one in the office no one ever notices. Until Louis does, that is. When notes start appearing on Harry’s desk, he ponders who is behind the kind words, oblivious to Louis’ attempts to get his attention...

Black Cat by lalune15

Inspired by this tumblr post (not asked or requested): fic where louis works at a haunted house jumping out at people and harry’s friends drag him along even though he doesn’t really like haunted houses. when louis jumps out to scare their group, harry freaks out and accidentally jumps into louis’s arms. louis just squeaks. harry ends up sitting there with louis the rest of his shift and totally doesn’t come back every night after that.

Be Mine, For Always by zams

Louis is happy when Harry is happy. That's what Louis wants, and so when Louis starts feeling weird when Harry cuddles with Liam, Zayn, or Niall instead of him, he keeps quiet. But the burning, uncomfortable feeling Louis gets deep in his stomach when he sees Harry contentedly nuzzling Liam's neck, or Harry's arms and legs tangled around Niall like an octopus, or Harry's face smushed in Zayn's stomach as Zayn plays with his hair only gets worse as the days go by.

Loosen Up My Buttons by softfonds

The beautiful man opened this bakery about a year ago. He remembered the exact day he came: a glum, rainy morning in the middle of February, which instantly turned brighter the minute he saw him. The man had come in with some paint buckets and tools, and Louis doubted he would be able to fix up the drab place all by himself. But as he walked down the stairs at the end of the day and saw the man standing there in the middle of a gorgeous pink and white shop, clearly proud of his work, Louis fell in love at first sight. If only he knew how to talk to him.

Usually, Louis knew how to flirt. He prided himself on it. But every time he looked at the beautiful man, he completely forgot how to form sentences, and there was no way he could go up to him only to make a fool of himself. That was the last thing he needed.

Or, Louis owns a tattoo shop called Pretty in Ink, Harry owns a bakery called Rolling Scones, they haven't been introduced, and Valentine’s Day seems like the perfect opportunity to finally talk to the man Louis has been pinning over for the past year. And they both end up with more love than they bargained for.

Coffee Cups and Football Boots by kimtaedumb

Harry’s stood behind the counter again, but this time he’s painting his nails. Louis strolls up to the counter and, thanks to his no brain-to-mouth filter, blurts out, “Isn’t that a little girlish, Haz?” leaning closer to inspect.

Harry lets out a little huff as his hand slips, “Oh, damn, now I’ve messed it up,” he pouts and turns to Louis, “Why should making myself feel pretty be girly?”

Louis holds up his hands in surrender, “’M not judging, jus’ curious is all.”

(The entirely cheesy and cliché Christmas AU, in which Harry doesn’t give a damn what people think about him – mostly – and Louis may be a little bit in love.

Alternatively, the one in which Harry owns a café that’s barely scraping by and Louis is a footballer and he takes Harry away for Christmas.

Featuring Zayn as a cocky little shit that most definitely needs to be put back in his place, Niall as the loveable Irish dude who drinks too much and flirts with Zayn more than the average girl, and Liam who loves everyone but hates them all at the same time.)

you make my whole world feel so right when it's wrong by orphan_account

“Curly?” Louis says, stepping into Harry’s sight. “You okay?” Harry looks up from where he has two things in his hands, a thick winter coat sized for a newborn, and a sweatshirt fitting a grown man such as himself. He looks up at Louis, stricken, and holds them out for him to see. “They’re the same price,” he says. “They’re both forty dollars! Forty dollars for such little material.”

(or, Harry is pregnant and stops at the mall to buy cheap baby clothes. Louis has extra money from working a long shift, and he can't think of a better way to spend it than on him.)

you were the ocean, i was drawn into you by by orphan_account

where harry takes pictures and worries too much and louis plays guitar.

i'll be your sunflower by scagnetism

“What do you think’s gonna stop us now?” Harry says cheekily, laughter in his voice as he looks up at Louis. “Something’s gotta get in our way like always, doesn’t it?”

“Ha,” Louis grins, kissing his cheek and holding open the door for him as they make their way toward the car. “Nothing’s gonna interrupt us this time. ‘S gonna be perfect, just like Pumpkin.”

Or, a few interruptions aren't going to stop Harry from having a perfect pregnancy and having the family he and Louis have always dreamed of.

Send Me Your Pillow (The One That You Dream On) by flowercrownfemme

Harry is embarrassed to realize he's nesting but can't stop stealing Louis' things for his nest.

Short fluffy o/o gaybo drabble with lots of cuddles and softness and sock stealing <3

As one we are everything/We are everything we need by louloubaby92

Harry finally marries the love of his life. He's got the mating mark, he's got Louis' ring on his finger.

And now, he's on his honeymoon. Louis is but a door away, waiting for him.

Honestly, he doesn't understand why he's nervous.

only guilty of loving you by sweetrevenge

After Harry gets set up with his co-worker's alpha friend Louis, he's expecting some pleasant conversation, free dinner, and maybe a new friend. What he doesn't expect, however, is that Louis' arrival in his life begins a life of crime Harry never knew he had in him.

A You've Got Mail!AU with a twist.

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

Here We Are as in Olden Days

Summary: When Rafael Barba returned to New York, he’d spent three years putting in the work to come home to the only real relationship he’d ever known. When he learned there was a little girl sleeping upstairs, he immediately knew she was his. When Rebecca gave him the option to do Christmas with his little family, he couldn’t refuse, even if it was as Mr. Barba.

Pairings: Rafael Barba x OC

First Part - Second Part

A/N: Here’s a Christmas conclusion. I know who I am. There will probably be stand alones later. 

Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Let your heart be light. From now on, our troubles will be out of sight.

“Mommy, who’s this?” a little girl with a mass of dark curls and wide green eyes asked as he came into the living room. Who he could only assume were Al and Rodney watched him from the kitchen, and he shifted nervously as Catalina inspected him.

“This is mommy’s friend, Mr. Barba,” Rebecca smiled softly, a gentle hand on his arm. They’d talked for hours the night before, Rafael only slipping out the door as the sun rose on Christmas Eve. And he’d told her every thing. Not like he had before, no. This time, he told her how he felt as he left. The way his heart clenched every time he thought of her, but he knew he had to be the man she deserved. He even told her the insecurities and triggers and coping mechanisms he’d learned in therapy before detailing the Householder case and his subsequent trial. He thought he’d be coming home to just her though. Then, he cried, reverently looking at each photo in the compilations she handed him. Her name was Catalina, yes for his abuelita. They make the same faces when they’re angry, mouths set in a firm line as they looked to the ceiling. He saw the proof. 

Al didn’t think she should give him a chance so easily, but Rafael was grateful she’d given him the option to attend Christmas Eve as Mr. Barba instead of dad and escorting the pair to midnight mass. Mami was in Florida, or she’d have given him hell for the way he changed in and out of chinos and button downs and sweaters and blazers, desperate to make a good impression on everyone present. That blazer? Too snug now, he couldn’t play with Catalina if she asked. The sweater? Not festive enough to put together gifts from Santa when they got back from mass. Instead, he came in a dark red fair isles sweater Rebecca had gotten him when they were together, slacks and a button down still present. He was torn on a blazer, wearing it only because he’d gotten so used to being in a three piece suit when he was in New York. Adjusting to the casual attire he’d gotten so fond of in Iowa felt wrong when he was here. 

“Hi, Mr. Barba,” she said giving him a shy wave. “I’m Cat.”

“It’s nice to meet you Cat,” he smiled, kneeling. “Your mami is putting your present under the tree, but I got treats.” 

He pulled out a bag of soft chocolate covered salted caramels. When Rebecca told him they had the same taste in sweets, he’d hurried to the shop as he ran the last minute errands to ensure he could spoil her at least a little. There had also been flowers for Rebecca. He knew she cared, but what flowers meant I really love you, expect nothing in return, and am sorry for everything? The florist had happily taught him. Colors were first. What did he was to say? Apparently white meant unity and pureness of new love, but he was assured that if they paired white with pink that meant apology and poetic romance, they shouldn’t come on too strong. They stayed away from roses, feeling they were too romantic this early on, but went with lilies, humility and devotion, and tulips, new beginnings and peace. Was Rafael Barba certain anything the older woman told him was true? No. But he bought a card, writing her a letter of explanation and gratitude within. It was foreign for him. Rebecca loved handwritten letters and their sentimentality, but he hated the way his shaky hand always gave away his nerves so he didn’t write them. He did for her this time, though, and he signed it Always yours, Rafael in shaky, loopy letters at the bottom.

“Can I have one?” she whispered, delighting in the secrecy. He caught Rebecca’s eye, winking as he gave one to Catalina. Nervous he’d have chosen wrong and she could choke, he sat with his legs splayed in front of him to watch her. 

“Don’t tell mami. We don’t want to spoil your dinner.”

“Mama said not to take candy from strangers.”

“Then ask mami. That’s very smart of you, mija.”

“Mommy!” she called over her shoulder. “Can Mr. Barba give me candy?”

“He can, angel.”

“Mommy! What does mija mean?”

“Sweetheart. Mr. Barba learned Spanish at home. Like Jose’s family does.”

“Mommy said I can take candy from you,” she whispered. “I didn’t tell her we’re gonna eat it now.”

“Very sneaky,” he chuckled as she took it. As kids are prone to do, she sucked on the soft caramel, soon covered in sticky sugar and melted chocolate. He gave her one more before he tucked the bag away, and Rebecca was suddenly struck by how different he was being. She’d seen him near kids before, but when they got sticky and grimy, he’d keep away. They threatened the composed, clean version of himself he projected. Now he didn’t flinch as sticky hands fisted his blazer, certain to leave prints if he didn’t work on it now. Instead, he picked up Catalina and sat her on the counter in the kitchen. He didn’t think to help her wash her own hands, instead using a damp cloth to carefully wipe her hands and mouth. When she ran back to the living room as though nothing happened, he dabbed at the sugary stain, shrugging at Rebecca when it didn’t come out. 

“I like this stress free version of you,” she said softly, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. He hadn’t expected it, smiling

“I want to leave that part of me in the past. I worked hard to become what you deserve. I’m not sure I’m there yet.”

“You seem more relaxed. I’d say our troubles will be out of sight. It’s a fresh start, Rafael.”

“You mean that, Becs?”

“I do. I’m willing to forget it all. We’ll get you into her life.”

“If we don’t get together again, I understand. Or if I’m always Mr. Barba.”

“I know. But I want both of those things with time.”

Here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore. Faithful friends who are dear to us gather near to us once more

He smiled as Catalina bounded across the living room. The red of her Christmas dress matched his sweater and Rebecca’s shoes. The thick satin belt was in a bow, and he helped her bundle into her scarf, coat, and hat. It was nice to bundle her up; it made him feel like he was getting to do some of the raising already. Rebecca looked elegant, as always, in green plaid slacks, belted to nip in her waist with a cream sweater. He stared at her as Catalina stood by his side while he put on his own coat, scarf, and gloves. Her hand found his, and his eyes went wide as he looked up Rebecca. He grinned as the little girl took Rebecca’s hand in her other and pulled him towards the door. Rebecca could’ve cried as they walked to the church, feeling like things were going to be okay for the first time in a while. 

After a block, Catalina had feigned exhaustion until Rafael picked her up and settled her on his hip. It was the little girl’s favorite move. She preferred being carried to walking, but this was a sign she had already accepted Rafael as part of their family unit. It was usually only Rebecca, Al, Rodney, and the secretary at the school who gave her candies who were allowed to hold her, and she certainly never laid her head on the shoulder of the secretary. That meant he’d been even more accepted than just as the bringer of salted caramel. 

Rebecca helped Catalina out of the hat, coat, and scarf as she stood on the pew. As she did, Rafael stood beside her and laid each article over his arm. He took hers as well before un-bundling himself and sitting with Catalina in between them. Rebecca didn’t miss the protective arm he slung over the back of the pew as he listened to Catalina chatter happily about everyone around them. Both adults could both feel eyes on him, Catalina oblivious. This was their regular church before he left, and the little old ladies refused to understand he hadn’t known he was leaving her pregnant. Several of them also disagreed the day he was found not guilty. Now they could see him smiling down at the little girl they’d all grown so protective of. And she’d let him hold her? Each had tried and failed, Catalina wiggling from their arms to hide behind her mother’s legs.

“Everything okay?” he asked softly as Catalina drew in the notebook Rebecca had brought her.

“They’re all staring. We aren’t their business.”

“The abuelitas will gossip, Becs. We’ll get through that easy.”

“I just know they’re making assumptions about you.”

“Maybe. But you know what? You and Cat are happy, so they can say whatever they’d like. All I care about is you two. ”

“Mrs. Garcia is probably mad you got to hold her.”

“Is that not normal?”

“No. Welcome to the elite club. With you, we’re at five.”

“Really?” He had that genuine smile again, the one that crinkled his eyes. Before, he’d only ever let her see it in the privacy of their apartments or the backseat of cars. She was happy to see it here, sat beside their daughter at the midnight service she came to each year, their matching green eyes looking over at her.

“Yeah. We both are really glad you’re here, Mr. Barba.” 

“I’m glad to be here. Te extrañe, hermosa.”

“I missed you too,” she said softly, and he didn’t miss the tinge of melancholy in her voice as her hand smoothed Catalina’s hair. His hand slid off the pew to rest on her shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze she knew meant I’m right here. She didn’t want to wallow in what he missed, so she chose to refocus. “You know what you get to do tonight?”

“What?” 

“We never did S-A-N-T-A before.”

“Yeah? I get to?”

“You get to help me build everything.” 

He squeezed her shoulder before the organ music began. As they prayed, stood, knelt, and sang, he felt like he was where he was supposed to be. Catalina leaned on Rebecca, who was used to telling Catalina to stand and straightening her dress. As she leaned on Rafael, he’d wrap an arm around her, watching her as he sang hymns he’d long ago memorized. He’d missed so much that he wanted to absorb every second of being around her, still fearing he’d ruin the life he was getting the opportunity to ease into. It felt domestic and homey and like something he could look forward to each day, but he was still trying to accept holidays and church services may be all he got, despite the fact every signal was telling him the opposite. 

“Mr. Barba, you sing pretty,” Catalina whispered, and he smiled softly, looking down at her as he sang to her now. Catalina wrapped around his arm, and he adjusted his hold on the hymnal to let her hang on him. Rebecca had seen him with children before, and he’d always continued to try and seem polished and mature. She liked this version of Rafael, wearing his suit with a festive sweater and mussed hair. He didn’t care as little hands grasped at the fabric. The polished ADA was gone, and he was so delightfully human, messy in a way he hadn’t been before. The steeled edges had been dulled, and seeing him fuss over Catalina highlighted that. She was sure they’d tell Catalina if this continued into the first months of the new year.

“He’s back?” Mrs. Garcia asked after mass, catching Rebecca on the sidewalk as Rafael chatted with someone he recognized. She was pretty sure it was a detective, and she could hear Carisi, you let me tell people on my own being said in his scariest voice, hushed so as not to disturb the sleeping girl. Rafael had been happy to let her rest against his front, a hand spread protectively over her back to keep her upright. She snapped the picture she’d been trying to take, thankful Al was willing to give him enough of a chance to have taken pictures of Rebecca, Rafael, and Catalina as they all cooked dinner together.

“Yeah, he is,” she said fondly, not missing the face the older woman made. 

“Let’s hope she doesn’t get sick.” This was one of the moments Rebecca knew hurt and motherhood had steeled her resolve. She fixed the older woman with a glare, shaking her head.

“He did what he felt was right, Mrs. Garcia. You didn’t even read what happened, just the headline. He’s a good man, and I’d appreciate you getting your nose out of our business.” 

Rafael lifted his brow as she came back to his side, heart soaring as her arm slid around his waist. Carisi had left, and he had a feeling his secret would be safe. Would anyone believe him anyway? They walked back to her apartment in contented silence, her arm keeping around him. Al and Rodney had gone home, so he’d get to sleep on the fold out couch and be there when Catalina woke. With Rebecca’s guidance, he got Catalina tucked in, a proud smile on his face as he took his clothes into the bathroom to change. He met her at the couch, sweatpants slung low on his hips and the Harvard sweatshirt his mother had gotten him when his disintegrated after twenty years. 

“So, mami,” he grinned. “What first?”

“We’re building a train table, but instead of trains, it’ll have her stackers and puzzles and art stuff under it in baskets.”

“Perfect.” He kissed her temple before stretching and standing. She led him to the back closet, tugging out the flat pack with the table and all of its parts. Together, they unpacked it, and Rebecca was pleasantly surprised as he worked on the table. Anytime there had been manual labor to be done, he’d hired someone. Now, she watched as he carefully used the supplied allen wrench to put the table together as she sorted Catalina’s old toys into their new homes. His hair had all fallen over his forehead, tongue poking out from between his teeth as he tightened each screw. When he’d finished, she slid the baskets beneath it, grinning.

“Looks good, papi.” He snorted at the term, once only used when her voice was thick with lust. Now she said it affectionately, tucking herself under his arm as they sat on the floor in front of the table he’d built their child. 

“A brilliant idea, mami. Gives her space.”

“And a way to make a mess on something other than my carpet.”

“Even smarter.”

She stretched up, pressing a sweet, gentle kiss to his lips. His heart fluttered like it had since day one.  

Through the years, we all will be together if the fates allow, so hang a shining star upon the highest bough. Have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

As sun filtered in through the window, Rafael woke up in Rebecca’s bed. He stretched, memories of needy kisses and whispers of I’m sure, Rafael flooding back to him as he smiled softly against her shoulder. Rebecca pressed against him as she woke, and he hummed softly. She twisted until she was facing him, smiling up at him gently as her eyes opened. It was like every morning before he’d ruined things, and he felt Christmas spirit like he had never felt before. Gently, he pressed a kiss to her forehead as he wrapped his arms around her and rolled onto his back, her above him. 

“Morning,” she yawned, head on his chest as she relaxed against him.

“Morning, hermosa. Feliz Navidad.”

“Merry Christmas.” 

“How long do we have until we aren’t alone?”

“Probably not long.”

“I’ll make breakfast? You hop in the shower?”

“You don’t know what I have to cook.”

“I looked last night. I’d have cooked you breakfast any way. French toast or pancakes?”

“French toast,” she grinned, kissing him again. “But we eat in bed? We can’t sneak Santa if she goes down the stairs.”

“You got it.” Rafael stretched as he stood, and Rebecca watched him move around the room to get dressed. The ease with which he moved assuaged any worries he would end up freaking out in the morning. The morning after he’d said I love you, he’d been all frenetic energy. The new calm, collected Rafael was still at ease as he ran a hand through his hair and made his way downstairs. Rebecca took a shower, stealing the sweater he’d worn the night before from the duffel bag he’d left in the bathroom and getting into a pair of leggings. When she walked into Catalina’s room, she was dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Did Santa find us?” she whispered with wide eyes.

“He did. Mr. Barba is bringing us breakfast in mama’s bed. Then we’ll go see what Santa brought and open presents.” Catalina nodded seriously, letting her mother carry her into the bigger bed and stretching out beside her. Rafael was there soon, three plates and two mugs of coffee on a tray he’d dug up from the recesses of her kitchen. 

“Señor Barba probablemente no debería besar a mamá todavía, eh?” he teased lightly after kissing the top of Catalina’s head.

“Not yet,” she said softly, and he gave her a reassuring smile as their daughter dug into her food happily. 

“Entiendo mi amor.” She squeezed his hand, sipping her coffee. 

“Say thank you,” Rebecca smiled. 

“Thank you, Mr. Barba,” the little girl grinned. 

“Thank you, Rafael,” she smiled.

“I’m glad to cook for you two,” he said breezily. “I imagine we have years of Christmas mornings to come.”

“Me too.” When the empty plates were stacked on the tray and Catalina was buzzed on sugar hanging on Rafael, they made their way downstairs. Catalina clung to Rafael and Rebecca’s hands, determined to walk down the stairs on her own. She stuck her tongue between her teeth with her brow furrowed, the same look Rafael had made as he built the table that was waiting for her. 

“Mama! Mr. Barba! Santa got me a table like at daycare!”

“It’s very cool,” Rebecca grinned, phone out as she took pictures. Rafael knelt beside her.

“And look at that, mija! Your toys are all put away. Santa es sabio.”

“Sabio?” she asked, head tilted. 

“Wise. Smart.”

“He is! We don’t need to put toys away! Sabio Santa!” He sat by Rebecca on the couch as she played, accepting the offered cup of coffee gladly. A break to caffeinate was exactly what they’d need.

“Sabio papi,” she smiled softly. “To the first of many Christmases, papi.”

“To the first of many Christmases, mami.”