#i will try to be up later today since saturday and no waking up early tomorrow but we'll see

[idanae]

𝐎𝐎𝐂;

I think it's time to get this blog going so I will be posting the promo and reblogging memes... Am excited. Thank you to all who have already followed for always supporting!

[heartysworld]

Waffles // LN4

Lando Norris x Female Reader

Lando's Saturday plans for a late morning are interrupted by an unexpected "request"

W.C.: 1k

MASTERLIST

"Waffles."

That was what awakened Lando early in the morning. You had been sound asleep, laying on your back with one hand above your head and the other one over Lando's back. Turning slowly, he was met with one of his favorite scenes ever. You were still asleep, and judging by what he had heard, you were dreaming about waffles, one of your favorite foods. At your feet, nestled cozily, was your playful puppy, Milo, his tiny paws twitching as he slept.

A small smile found its way onto Lando's sleepy face. He rubbed his eyes to shake away the sleepiness, deciding to enjoy this quiet and lovely moment by admiring the peaceful state you and Milo were in.

It was a Saturday, so that meant the two of you had the day off, and Lando planned to spend every single minute of it with you and Milo.

"You love your waffles, don't you, baby?" he whispered as he watched you sleep peacefully, still unaware that he was awake and watching you.

"I'll get you waffles." he added before carefully leaning over your sleeping form and pressing a soft kiss on your squished cheek, which made you slightly stir in your sleep. Thankfully, that was all you did, turning on your side and diving back into the land of dreams. Milo shifted slightly but remained blissfully asleep, his tiny snout twitching.

Letting out a sigh, Lando got up and threw on a pair of joggers that were lying on a chair near your bed. He glanced back at the bed, taking in the serene sight of you and Milo. With that, he quietly headed downstairs, where he began the process of delivering the waffles that woke him up. It was quite early, 7 am; he usually never gets up before 10 on a weekend day, but today was an exception.

Lando never cooks. Even during the time he lived alone, he would usually order takeout whenever he wasn't traveling so thay he wouldnt have to bother with cooking and doing the dishes afterward. However, ever since you entered his life, it became his mission to at least be able to make the food you'd agree to sell him for, waffles.

Around forty minutes later, the house was full of the smell of freshly made waffles and strawberries. Lando grabbed a tray from one of the cupboards, placing on it a plate stacked with waffles covered with syrup and cut-up strawberries. Next to the plate, he put a small bowl filled with more fruits, as you liked to snack on something after eating breakfast. He finished everything with two cups of coffee on the tray.

With that, he headed up the stairs, balancing the tray in his hands, trying not to miss a step and miserably fail in his attempt to give you a nice morning. Using his elbow, he opened the door to the bedroom, and with the help of his back, he pushed it fully open and entered the room. Seeing that you and Milo were still asleep made him let out a thankful sigh, happy that his surprise wasn't ruined. He set the tray down on your bedside table and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Wake up, pretty girl," he whispered, inches away from your forehead as he leaned in and left another small kiss on it while stroking your soft cheek with his thumb. Mili stirred as well, opening his eyes and wagging his tail slightly at the sight of his daddy.

The gesture made you slowly open your eyes, a smile immediately placing itself on your face as the first thing you saw was your lovely boyfriend smiling down at you and the smell of freshly made coffee and baked waffles filling the room. Milo, now fully awake, stretched and let out a tiny yawn before snuggling closer to you.

"Well, that's something I could easily get used to waking up to," you murmured with a groggy tone, making Lando smile once again.

Stretching yourself up, you lazily sat up and propped yourself against the headboard of the bed while Lando set the tray down on your lap and went around the bed to settle on his side so that the two of you could share a nice breakfast in bed. Milo climbed into your lap, sniffing at the delicious spread.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of receiving a breakfast in bed, Mr. Norris?" You asked as you made a kissy face, asking for another kiss, which you received in no time.

"Well, sweetheart, given the fact I was woken up by your sweet voice, talking about waffles while asleep, I thought, let's give the lady what she wants." Lando explained as he blessed your morning with more kisses down your exposed shoulder.

"Remind me to get you a big trophy with the words 'best man ever' engraved on it for your birthday." You smiled after hearing how they ended up where they were now.

"You're my biggest trophy in life, sweetheart, there's no need for anything else. Now, let's enjoy a nice breakfast in bed before spending a nice day together outside." He said as he took hold of the waffle that was on the top of the stack and took a bite of it. Milo eagerly watched him, hoping for a tiny piece of waffle to fall his way.

You wasted no more time, grabbing another one along with a few pieces of strawberry. The two of you spent the next hour in bed, enjoying your amazing breakfast and coffee, exchanging kisses and hugs, all while savoring the moment. Milo settled comfortably between you, enjoying the attention and the occasional treat.

You were still amazed by your boyfriend, who usually liked to sleep as much as possible on his days off, and today he suddenly decided to get up early in the morning and make you exactly what you’d been dreaming of a couple of minutes ago. Milo, too, seemed content with the extra love and attention.

Soon after though, the small dog get out a loud bark, announcing that he was now expecting his own breakfast and either mommy or daddy had to hurry up before another pack of dog food ends up being demolished on the pantry floor.

MASTERLIST

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[cheoliehansolie]

The Hoodie

Summary: Wonwoo learns something interesting about you wearing his hoodies.

Word Count: ~2.8 k

Pairing: fem reader x Wonwoo

Warnings: Implied smut and a bit suggestive

an: I'm finally back after accidentally taking a break for a month. Thank you guys for waiting patiently <3. As always, if you liked reading this, please reblog or leave a comment. If you have any suggestions or you just want to talk, send me an ask and we can be friends 💕

To read more, check out my masterlist.

---

You woke up to the soft rays of sunlight filtering into your room through your blinds. Waking up to the warmth of sunlight on your cheeks had to be your favorite part of spring. Glancing at the clock on your bedside table, you shock yourself with how early you’ve woken up on a Saturday.

Normally you’re one to sleep until you absolutely need to get out of bed on the weekends, but today you’ve somehow managed to wake up at 7:30. Feeling proud of yourself, you decide to take this as your sign to be productive and to spend the day finally cleaning your apartment.

This past week had been hectic with work and the semester coming to an end that you barely had time to sleep, let alone clean your space. So, your apartment had been looking like a tornado blew through it for a while now and it definitely was not helping your mental state.

Deciding to bite the bullet, you shove your blanket from off your figure and force yourself out of bed. What? Just because you woke up early and decided to be productive in your head doesn’t mean that it’s not hard to get out of bed, especially when the mornings are still cold.

You rush into the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth and shower to warm yourself up. Once you’re done with your shower, you put on a pair of leggings and your hoodie (yeah, definitely yours and not your boyfriend’s).

As you’re tying your hair up into a ponytail, you make your way out of your room and into the living room. You immediately groan seeing all your college papers on your dining table which is serving as your makeshift desk, the trash on your kitchen counters, and the pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

Seeing the amount of overall filth in your living space, you were extremely tempted to just go back to bed and pretend you never had plans of cleaning, but you knew that if you didn’t clean your apartment now, you never would. So, you grab your phone, blast your cleaning playlist, and get to work.

���

It took you basically all morning just to clean your kitchen and it’s safe to say that morale was at an all time low. You collapsed onto your couch out of exhaustion and hunger. You hadn’t expected it to take so long to clean so you thought you could just eat breakfast after cleaning.

The second your body began relaxing on the couch, you heard a knock at your door. You laid there silently hoping that the person at your door would leave, but less than a minute later the knocking continued.

You let out a groan of frustration as you force yourself off the couch and make the trek to the front door less than a few feet away.

You swing open your front door, a frown still on your face. It takes you a second to register who’s at your door, but when you do, you’re left confused.

Wonwoo stands in front of you dressed casually a pair of gray sweatpants and a black tee shirt. You notice in one hand he’s holding a white plastic bag, which you can only assume contains take out.

“Wonwoo? What are you doing here?” you ask as you wrack your brain trying to remember if you had plans to see each other today.

“You weren’t answering any of my texts so I decided to stop by and make sure everything was okay.” he explains as you step aside letting him into your apartment.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I spent the past few hours cleaning. I haven’t been on my phone since I got up. I didn’t mean to worry you.” you say with your lips slightly down turned and eyebrows furrowed.

You felt bad for making him worry to the point that he felt the need to come to your apartment.

“Hey, it’s fine.” he says softly, noticing how upset you looked at yourself. “I wanted to see you anyways, so you not answering gave me an excuse to see you.”

Once Wonwoo took his shoes off, he finally registered what you looked like. His lips almost immediately turned up into a small smile as he realized that the hoodie you were wearing was none other than his own. He noticed the subtle flush in your cheeks, the thin sheen of sweat creating a film over your skin, and the way strands of hair were falling out of your ponytail. 

Noticing the fact that Wonwoo was just silently standing in your entryway, you ushered him deeper into your apartment. Honestly, you had noticed his eyes wandering over your figure and you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed by the current state of your appearance. You and Wonwoo had been dating for about a year, but something about the way he looks at you makes you feel the same way you did during your first date.

“So, whatcha got in the bag?” you asked, looking pointedly at the plastic bag in his right hand.

“Oh, this? I picked up lunch from your favorite place. I thought you might’ve been sleeping or something when I texted you so I thought it would be nice to bring you some food.”

“Aww, thank you so much babe!” you exclaim in excitement. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch and I’ll just grab us some plates from the kitchen?”

Wonwoo gives you a nod as he makes his way to the couch. He places the bag of food on the table in front of him and he watches as you walk around the kitchen grabbing plates, utensils, and glasses of water for the two of you. He can’t help but coo every time you tug at the sleeves of his too large hoodie to grab everything.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you ask once you’ve joined your boyfriend on the couch.

“No reason. You just look cute in my hoodie, that’s all.” he says, a small smile of endearment grazing his lips.

You feel yourself flush at his statement and pull your hair out of your lopsided ponytail as an attempt to distract yourself from how flustered Wonwoo still makes you even after how long you’ve been dating.

“Let’s eat, shall we?” you ask, trying to steer the conversation to more neutral territory. 

Wonwoo can’t keep himself from smiling a little wider at your flustered state, but he decides to take pity on you and drops the subject. Just this once, though.

Soon enough, conversation flows easily between the two of you as you share your meal together. Before you know it, the plates in front of you are empty and there lies another thing left for you to clean. Just as you’re about to get up to clean the small mess in front of you (it merely is a drop of water in the ocean of a mess your apartment is), Wonwoo beats you to it and is stacking the dirty utensils in his hands.

“Wonwoo, I can clean it.” you whine when he motions for you to stay seated as he continues cleaning.

“You can rest on the couch. Didn’t you say that you spent the entire morning cleaning?” he asks.

“Yeah, but I -” before you can finish your sentence, Wonwoo cuts you off.

“No buts! You looked exhausted when I got here. The least I can do is clean up the mess I helped make. Besides, I’m not called the dishwashing fairy for nothing.” he says with a smile.

Before you can protest, Wonwoo gives you a pointed look and you realize there’s no way that you can change his mind so you collapse backwards onto your couch letting him do whatever he wants.

You’re left alone with your thoughts for the first time today with the soft clattering of dishes coming from the kitchen serving as white noise. You’re suddenly aware of how warm you feel and you feel as though you are overheating. 

You had spent the day either distracted by cleaning or distracted by Wonwoo that you didn’t realize the rise in temperature in your apartment. It was finally spring time and as much as you loved it, you despised how it would be so cold in the mornings and evenings but warm in the afternoons making it almost impossible to dress appropriately without freezing in the morning or melting in the afternoon.

Feeling sweat prickle on your skin, you decide the only thing you can do is change out of Wonwoo’s thick hoodie into a thin, flowy tee shirt.

When you get up to go change, Wonwoo can see you from your kitchen sink a few feet away and he’s instantly curious as to what you’re up to.

“Where’re you going, love?” he asks from the sink as he continues to scrub the plate in front of him.

“I’m gonna change into something thinner. It’s too warm to be wearing a hoodie right now.” you say as you stop at the entryway of your kitchen to respond to him.

“Why do you need to change for that, though?” he asks, taking his eyes off the plate in front of him to glance at you with his confused eyes.

“I just told you, I’m overheating.” you say, confused as to why he’s confused.

“Can’t you just take it off here?”

You feel heat rush to your face, and you’re now feeling warm from embarrassment.

“Well… I would but…” you trailed off, hoping that you would just disappear or he would drop the subject.

“But…?” Wonwoo asks, having finished washing the dishes and giving you his full attention.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself. Just say it quickly, it’s like ripping a bandaid off. you think to yourself.

In one breath, as quickly as you can, you say, “I would but I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

It takes Wonwoo a second to understand what you said, but when he does, less than ten seconds after the words left your mouth, you’re already in your room with the door closed behind you.

Wonwoo feels his cheeks heat up as he realizes that this entire day, including the past hour plus that the two of you spent together, the only thing separating your top half from the rest of the world was his hoodie. He originally thought you looked so cute drowning in his hoodie and while he still does, this new information changes his entire perception of the time you’ve spent together.

Meanwhile, you were pacing around your room silently screaming at yourself. I can’t believe I just told him that I was both shirtless and braless under his hoodie. Why would I do that? What if he thinks I’m weird? Or worse, what if I made him uncomfortable? 

Letting out a defeated groan, you force yourself to push all these worries out of your head. You decide that you can’t hide in your room forever, mainly because you know Wonwoo would come looking for you at some point. So, you change into a loose fitting shirt, take a deep breath, and step out of your room.

Your eyes immediately search the kitchen to see if Wonwoo is where you left him, but he’s not there anymore. You wander deeper into your apartment and you find Wonwoo sitting on your couch, casually scrolling on his phone. 

You don’t think he notices your presence and based on how calm he looks, you feel hopeful that he either a) forgot the conversation happened or b) didn’t think it was as much of a big deal as you made it out to be in your head. But when you sit on the other end of the couch and Wonwoo drops his phone to the side to look at you with a knowing smirk on his face, you realize that you were so, so, so wrong.

“So, you wanna talk about it?” Wonwoo asks with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you respond, feigning innocence and looking anywhere but your boyfriend sitting a few inches away from you.

“Really? Because I seem to recall you saying that you weren’t wearing anything under my hoodie today.”

Your face flushes for the thousandth time today and you can’t help but feel a little guilty.

“Listen Wonwoo, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier. That wasn’t my intention.” you say, looking into his eyes earnestly.

“Wait, why are you apologizing?” he asks you confused.

“Because it’s obvious that I made you uncomfortable earlier.” 

“Babe, I don’t know why you would think I would feel uncomfortable by it. The only reason I didn’t respond was because I was just a little shocked, that’s all. If anything, it’s kinda hot now that I know that you’ve been walking around with nothing underneath my hoodie.”

Feeling embarrassed by assuming that Wonwoo was uncomfortable and by hearing his true feelings, you grab a throw pillow from your couch and bury your face into it.

“I can’t believe I embarrassed myself in front of you twice in one day.” you mumble into the pillow.

“Hey, this can’t be as embarrassing as when you tripped over Vernon’s bag and ended up spilling your drink on Mingyu’s lap.” Wonwoo says.

“I thought we all agreed to not bring that up anymore.” you whine as you hit him with the pillow in your hands.

“I’m just saying, you’ve done more embarrassing things in your life than telling me you're naked under my hoodie.”

“Wow, thank you so much Wonwoo. I feel so much better about myself.” you say sarcastically.

“Aww, babe I’m sorry.” he says as he reaches for your hands.

“Forget it.” you say, faking annoyance as you get up to go clean off your dining table turned desk.

“Babe.” Wonwoo whines as he rushes behind you and grabs your wrist.

Before you know it, Wonwoo tugs at your wrist pulling you close into his chest. Your breath hitches at the boldness of his actions and you peer up at him through your lashes to see what his next move is.

He removes his hand from your wrist and gently raises your chin so he can look into your eyes.

“I’m sorry babe.” he says.

When you’re about to open your mouth to tell him it’s fine, you’re silenced by his lips on yours. Deciding that you actually had nothing to say, you choose to melt into the kiss instead. 

Once the two of you part for air, you say “I guess you’re forgiven.”

“You don’t sound too confident about your answer.” he says, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Maybe I’m not confident in my answer. What’re you gonna do about it?” you challenge.

“Then let me make it up to you in a different way.” he says as he pulls you into another kiss.

It’s safe to say that you didn’t get any cleaning done for the rest of the day.

—

When you go over to Wonwoo’s place for movie night a few weeks later, Wonwoo is more than happy to see you wearing one of his hoodies you’ve taken from him.

While the two of you are cuddling together on the couch, Wonwoo can’t help but let his curiosity get the best of him. When you’re engrossed in the movie, Wonwoo takes his hand that was resting on your thigh and brings it up to the hem of hoodie loosely covering your frame.

This grabs your attention and you turn to him to look at him with your eyebrows furrowed. But Wonwoo’s eyes are fixed on the screen in front of you and it makes you wonder if you were just imagining things. Deciding that you were just being weird, you turn your attention back to the screen.

When Wonwoo notices that your attention is on the movie again, he takes that as his sign to move his hand again. He slips his hand under the hem of the hoodie and he slowly inches closer and closer to your chest.

Although your eyes were trained on the movie playing in front of you, all of your attention was on Wonwoo’s hand slowly grazing your skin as he made his way up your body. Your breath hitched when you felt his cold hand gently graze your bare breast and you turned to face Wonwoo.

He looked at you with a smirk on his lips and a mischievous glint in his eyes. Something told you that you wouldn’t know how the movie would end.

[adore-laur]

DAD HARRY: PART TWO

— part one

——

The Styles household is missing a vital component this weekend. Harry isn't home, which is a rare occurrence, but duty is called at the most inconvenient moment. It had been a little after five in the morning when he received a blaring phone call from his boss. His snores had abruptly stopped as he fumbled around to answer the call before speaking groggily with a pinch to his eyebrows that would indeed induce a splitting headache. 

You were still half asleep when it happened, and all you can remember seeing was Harry running his hands over his face after he hung up. He then slid out of bed with a quiet groan and took a shower. It didn't take long for you to realize that he had been called in to work. His pragmatic side refused to leave the restaurant severely understaffed, and you understood his decision.

Before he slipped out the door, a minty kiss was given to the corner of your lips, and he whispered, "Love you." You later awoke to a cold and empty bed, and it felt uncomfortable without his warm body pressed against you.

It's a quarter after eight now, and you assume Harry will be done working after lunchtime. Your daughter will undoubtedly be confused about why he isn't here to cook a breakfast buffet and carry her down to the beach for a morning swim like he does every weekend. You're dreading telling her because she could throw a toddler fit at any moment, especially when sleepy. 

With a suppressed yawn, you reach for your phone on the nightstand and text Harry. You'll try to make his shift less chaotic. 

I'm sorry you had to go in today. I hope it goes by quickly. We'll see you when you get home! I love you.

You hope you can ease some of his frustration. He becomes grouchy when work obligations are thrown at him at the last minute, and working on a Saturday could be extra stressful since he doesn't know the weekend menu and preparation like he used to. Despite that, he's a professional, so you can count on him to push through and adapt. 

Eventually, you start your day by walking to the balcony overlooking the coast. Your daughter will wake soon, so you bask in the soothing moment alone. Below the balcony is where all the beach toys live—floaties, buckets for building sandcastles, and even a foldable lounge chair Harry spoiled your daughter with on her last birthday. It's your family's subtle mark on the world, and it ignites a strong feeling in your chest. You built this life with Harry, from every little toy on the sand to the oceanside memories the three of you will always cherish. 

Your reminiscing ends as the brisk morning breeze ripples goosebumps over your arms and legs. Your mind naturally drifts to the thought of Harry and how tomorrow will be his only day off before he has to pound out five straight days of work again. He's dedicated to his career and tries desperately to leave his stress at work instead of bringing it home, but you have a feeling he'll be spent today.

You hear soft footsteps padding down the hallway as you think of something you could do to cheer him up. You smile and walk back inside, meeting your baby girl's puffy eyes and lost expression. Your heart immediately crumbles. Harry is always the one to wake her up on the weekends. After waking up, you'll often see them already at the kitchen table, either sharing a slice of buttered toast or creating faces on their pancakes using an assortment of fruit. 

Kneeling to her height, you brush tangled curls out of her eyes. "Good morning, sleepyhead. I know Dad was supposed to wake you up, but he had to go to work. He'll be home in a few hours, okay?" 

Her lips pout. She's currently in a clingy phase, so not seeing her dad when she usually does has her understandably upset. 

You gently shush her to try to stop any forthcoming tears. "I know, sweetheart. Let's eat some breakfast, and then we can think of something to do for him before he comes home," you say, not wanting to deal with a meltdown this early. 

She nods and sulks toward the kitchen, with you closely behind. You make frozen chocolate chip waffles with a lousy side of green grapes. It's nothing compared to what Harry would make, but it'll have to suffice. You sit next to her and cautiously watch her eat so she doesn't shove big bites into her tiny mouth. She still looks visibly upset.

The vacant chair across the table mocks you. It feels bizarre not to have him here talking about the day's plans or what's for dinner. You can't remember the last time he had to work during the weekend. The restaurant's management has always been top-notch, and the employees are usually punctual, but there must have been someone sick or an unforeseen scheduling issue.

"Can you think of something to do for him?" you ask your daughter.

She silently mopes and picks at her waffle. You'll have to think for both of you. 

You could have lunch made for him when he gets home, but you're not sure if he'd be hungry from being around food all morning. On top of that, he'll be exhausted and will most definitely want to take a nap. A better idea would be to visit him at work at the end of his shift. He'd appreciate it.

"Would you want to go and see him at the restaurant?" you suggest, stealing one of her grapes. 

That gets her. Her eyes focus on you as she excitedly bobs her head. You grin and kiss her temple before cleaning up the remnants of breakfast. 

"I'm going to shower, and then I'll help you get ready," you tell her while lifting her out of the highchair. She gallops to her room without another word, clearly in a much happier mood than before. 

You pull out your phone and ask Harry what time he works until. Since you want to surprise him, you send a vague text. You're not worried about getting a response soon, so you check on your daughter and find her playing with her toys, then head to the bedroom to take a quick shower. 

After that, you're met with a new text message. 

Harry: 1:30 or 2. Everyone is in a bad mood. The breakfast rush was a disaster. Someone called in because they were hungover. How are you guys doing? Sorry if she's cranky because of me. 

You: That sucks. Only five more hours, though. And she's fine, just a little mopey. Have a good rest of your shift, baby.

Three dots immediately pop up. 

Harry: Tell her I miss and love her. I'll call you during my lunch break if it's not swamped.

You:Will do.

You shut your phone off and find things to do around the house to make time pass faster—cleaning, playing with dolls, and even baking brownies. When it finally hits one o'clock, you pick out an outfit. It's not too hot outside, so you wear a long sundress that flows prettily. You then dry your hair and let it loose, knowing Harry likes it that way.

Entering your daughter's bedroom, you find her still playing with dolls on the plush carpet. A yellow gingham dress and white Mary Janes lay on her bed. You grab them, help her into the cute outfit, and then brush through her wild curls.

Once you both are ready, you grab your keys and head out the front door. You strap your daughter in the Volvo's car seat before settling behind the wheel. It takes fifteen minutes to get to the restaurant, so you put on a Disney playlist for her to listen to on the way there. 

When you eventually pull into the parking lot, it appears to be busy. You couldn't imagine working at a restaurant on a Saturday during the summer. Once parked, you unbuckle your daughter and hike her up on your hip before walking around the back. There's an employee door that leads to the kitchen without having to walk through the entire building. You've visited Harry on his lunch breaks before, even before you got married. When you first started dating him, you remember how he would wait outside in his chef coat, standing against the brick wall. When he'd spot you, he'd meet you halfway and trap you in his arms, kissing and hugging you until he had to clock back in. 

Now, you walk through the door with a mini version of you and him clinging to your side. 

The kitchen is bustling, and the smell of sizzling meats and vegetables instantly invades your senses. Dishes clang in the sink, so you assume they must have just finished serving lunch. Everyone recognizes you by now, and they offer a friendly smile or wave before resuming their respective duties. 

You scan the room for Harry but can't find him anywhere. 

"He's in the employee bathroom," says a man you've seen before as he passes you. "He needed a break. The lunch rush was a nightmare." 

If the breakfast rush was a disaster and the lunch rush was a nightmare... 

"Oh no," you mumble. It must have been bad for everyone today. "I'll go check on him." 

You wander toward the bathroom door and knock twice. The familiar clearing of Harry's throat is muffled on the other side. 

"Yeah?" he says hoarsely. His nose sounds plugged up. Has he been crying?

"It's me, honey. Can I come in?" 

It's silent for a few seconds before you hear the lock turn. You crack the door open and step inside before turning and locking it again. When you meet Harry's gaze, your heart sinks. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, his chef coat is unbuttoned, and his curls fall over his forehead. He looks so worn out. 

Yet it all goes away momentarily when he sees who you have on your hip. He gives the slightest smile before sniffling and taking her from you, hugging her tightly while her arms throw themselves around his shoulders. His eyes stay trained on yours, offering a nod as if to convince you he's okay.

You close the short distance and run your hand through his tousled hair. Your thumb then grazes the faint wetness under his eyes before you squeeze the apple of his cheek and give him a sympathetic smile. He leans forward and plants a tender kiss on your lips. It tastes like bell peppers. 

"Are you okay?" you murmur with concern. 

Harry sighs and says, "Not really. It was six hours of nonstop orders and running around. We're so understaffed, baby. Everyone kept pissing each other off." He sniffles. "I just want to go home." 

"Are you done for the day? I can help clean up or something." 

"I have to take the meatballs out for dinner service. They're almost done, then we can go." 

"Do you want to help him take the meatballs out?" you ask your daughter. Her head snaps up with lightning speed, making you and Harry laugh. 

"Yes, please," answers her soft voice. 

Harry sets her down and takes her tiny hand before leading her out of the bathroom and toward the ovens. Sure enough, a large sheet of seasoned meatballs is cooking in one of them. "Four more minutes, and then we can take them out," he tells her. 

She kneels in front of the oven, watching them closely. Harry smiles fondly and grabs a spare chef's hat from under a nearby counter. He places it on her head and crouches next to her. 

After admiring them for a while, you stand behind Harry and massage his shoulders. His head rolls back as he looks at you upside down, dazzling you with his handsome face. 

Once the timer beeps, Harry carefully opens the oven and grabs two mitts, putting one on his hand and one on your daughters'. He slides the baking sheet out so he can grip the edge while he maneuvers her hand to grip the other side. With slow and cautious movements, they successfully set it on the stovetop. Harry quietly cheers and high-fives her, then takes their mitts off. She looks so proud of herself.

"I was thinking we could go to the supermarket and get ingredients for date night tomorrow," you say as Harry washes his hands. 

"Yeah, we should do that," he replies, hanging up his chef coat. "I have some recipes saved on my phone." 

His outfit is somewhat wrinkled—a cream-colored button-up untucked from gray trousers. After he removes his work shoes and slips on white loafers, he wipes a clean rag over his face to get rid of the buildup of sweat and grease. 

"Do you want to ride with him?" you ask your daughter. "We're stopping at the store on our way home." 

She nods and raises her arms for him. He picks her up and clocks himself out before escorting you to the parking lot. Harry buckles his girl in the Bentley while you get in the Volvo. He then saunters to the open driver's side window and casually rests his arms on it. 

"Are my eyes still red?" he asks, rubbing them with his knuckles. 

"Don't rub them; it'll make it worse," you say. "But they're not too bad. I'm sorry today was stressful, Harry." 

"It's fine. Hopefully, management gets their shit together so I won't have to come in on my days off. They know my weekends are important." Harry stares into the distance and mumbles, "It's that idiot's fault for getting wasted the night before his opening shift." 

"Hey, stop dwelling on it. The hard part is over. Now, you get to go home and take a nap. Plus, you have off all day tomorrow." 

"You're right." He readjusts his footing and focuses intently on you. "By the way, I like your pretty little outfit." 

"Thank you. Your clothes are so wrinkly." 

He scoffs lightheartedly. "Wow. What a nice compliment." 

"No, you look great," you say, backtracking. "It's just such a dad outfit." 

"I guess that's better than when you say I dress like a grandpa." 

"A cute grandpa." Before he can reply, you say, "Let's get out of here." 

"'Kay," he says, rhythmically tapping his fingers on the car. "Bye, my love. Please drive safely." 

You start the engine and crank up the air conditioner. "The store is literally a street away, and you'll be following me. I think I'll be okay." 

Harry rolls his eyes. "Let me worry about you, yeah? Traffic was awful this morning." 

"I know, I know. You, however, need to drive even more safely. You've got a baby on board." 

"She's not a baby anymore." 

"Don't say that. I'll start crying." 

He laughs. "Please don't. Crying while driving isn't safe." 

"I'm kidding. Sort of. Okay, we're wasting time. Begone." You wave him off and roll up the window, but Harry knocks on it offendedly.

You groan and roll it back down. "What do you want?" 

"Uh, a kiss goodbye? Am I chopped liver to you?" 

"You're so dramatic." 

Harry leans in until half of his torso is through the open window. He puckers his lips, and you give him a searing kiss. He hums, satisfied, and then gives you a peck on the cheek before retreating.

He always gets his way.

——

Shopping started wonderfully. It truly did. 

Now, not so much. Your daughter is throwing a tantrum in the beverage aisle with wails and crocodile tears galore, all because you won't buy chocolate milk for her. You keep reiterating that there's a jug at home, but according to her, it's not the same. Harry is on the opposite side of the store, finding a specific type of rice needed for the date night recipe he picked out, so you're left trying to diffuse her outburst alone. You hope he'll heroically come down the aisle any minute. 

Your skin feels hot and prickly as you attempt to calm her down, but she's stubborn like her dad. Usually, she'll listen, but there are rare times when she unleashes her full power. It's absolute torture to endure them while simultaneously trying to subside them.

No one really talks about the humiliating parts of raising a child. The most common example is dealing with tantrums in public places where everyone stares at you with subtle judgment.

It's almost comical how she plopped herself on the cold, hard tiles as she cried to no one in particular. An impulsive thought made you want to tell her that she was just embarrassing herself, but you resisted. There was no need to make her cry even harder. 

Just in time, Harry comes speeding down the aisle with a frazzled look and a bag of rice in his hand. He takes in your defeated expression, then glances at the cause of it. He huffs—relieved that it's not an emergency—and crouches to her height. 

"I told her I wouldn't buy chocolate milk because we already have some at home," you explain, trying to blink back frustrated tears. "They're different brands, and I guess that's a massive problem." 

Harry sighs while looking at your daughter sternly. He'll often take a soft approach, but you know this tantrum is worse than others. She rarely gets temperamental in public. 

"That's enough," he scolds firmly. "We have some at home that you can drink, okay? You listen to your mother when she tells you no." 

Her sobs weaken, yet her tears still fall. She sniffles and stares at you with those devastating eyes before choking out another raspy sob. She starts to run away, but Harry's paternal instincts have him standing with a displeased groan and catching up to her. He scoops her up using one arm and secures her over his shoulder so she can't escape. She begins squirming and screaming, causing you to tiredly run your hands down your face. 

"All right, let's go," he says, his body practically a punching bag for her little fists and feet. "You're being a brat." 

Harry roughly passes the rice to you and then takes her to the car. You release the breath you were holding and decide to just buy the chocolate milk anyway, so you don't have to deal with whatever that was again. You also find the other ingredients before heading to the checkout area to pay. The monotone beeping of the scanning gun keeps you from crying in front of the cashier. 

Being a parent is draining. People warned you, but it's ten times harder than they make it out to be. Sometimes, you feel like a bad parent for not being able to control your child. You've had conversations with Harry about how he feels the same way. You know it's completely normal to feel guilt, shame, and insecurity, but it doesn't make those thoughts any less heartbreaking to conquer. 

It's just one difficult day. You always get through it. 

Once you leave the store, you spot Harry setting up a movie to play for your daughter on the small screen that's hooked to the back of his headrest. You don't hear any crying, so you assume he successfully calmed her down. 

Harry eventually sees you in his peripheral and gives you the tiniest wave. You almost fall apart at his gentleness as you walk to your car. Your daughter probably doesn't want to see you right now, plus you don't want to set her off again, so you just get in the driver's seat and bite down on your bottom lip to keep the tears at bay. 

After a few moments, you hear Harry's car door shut and footsteps walk closer. It's enough to make the first sob escape. Harry's attentive and caring nature can always break the dam if you're sensitive enough. 

He opens the door on your side and immediately brings you in for a warm, consoling embrace. You let out soft cries in his arms, his hand cradling the back of your head as he shushes and sways you. His presence alone is enough to patch the holes today brought.

"She's good now," he murmurs, his cheek nuzzling the side of your head. "It's okay. We'll talk about it later. Let's go home first." 

You nod, just wanting to be in the comfort of your own home. Harry reaches over your legs and opens the center console to pull out a small package of tissues he knows you keep in there. He takes one out and dries your tears while gently cupping your cheek. 

"Today's been weird with you being gone. It's not your fault, but I guess we're not used to it. Sorry for crying." 

"Hey, stop that," he replies quietly. "I cried, too. It's good to cry. What do we always say to each other? Parenting isn't easy, and we're learning every day. We're in this together, right?"

This time, you start crying at his loving words, and you can't help but start laughing at both of your messy states. He cradles the back of your head and kisses your forehead several times. "Are you good to drive?" he asks, his hands gripping the top of the car as his foot plants itself by your seat. 

"Yeah, I'll be fine." You nod your head toward the grocery bags in the backseat. "I bought the milk so she doesn't hate me forever. Is she still mad at me?" 

"I had a little talk with her. I told her to give you a big hug when we get home, so be prepared." 

"Thank you for handling her. I love you." 

"I love you more," he says. "I'm sorry for throwing the rice in your hands, by the way." 

You wave him off. "Doesn't matter." 

"Okay." The door begins to shut. "Drive safe."

"Excuse me, am I chopped liver to you?" you repeat what he said earlier. "Leaving me without a kiss?" 

Harry runs his tongue across his teeth. "You've got snot in your nose, so I think I'll pass," he teases as he walks away.

"Hey! I kissed you in the gross restaurant bathroom after you were crying." 

He just shrugs smugly. You grin and start driving. 

—— 

After you arrived home, Harry took a short nap and later made a seafood dinner. Your daughter also gave you a bone-crushing hug, as promised, but you're sure it was only because she saw you bought the chocolate milk she wanted. 

Now, you are all at the house's private beach area to get some fresh air. Harry puts swim floaties on your daughter's arms while you bring out her plastic sandcastle-building tools. The sky is a dull blue, and the coastal breeze is pleasantly warm.

Even when it's gloomy, your family feels like sunshine. 

Once her floaties are secure, she runs into the ocean to splash around—she knows not to let the water rise past her waist. You set her tools by the shore and look at Harry with your hands on your hips, waiting for him to start the activity he came up with. He suggested that the both of you pass a football around for some reason, and you couldn't think of anything else to do, so you agreed. He's changed into yellow swim trunks, a blue tie-dye shirt, and black sunglasses on his face. His feet are bare, and he's holding a football. You don't remember ever owning one, so you have no idea where he grabbed it. 

"Ready?" he calls out over the wind. 

"Sure!" you call back, showing him your palms so you can catch it. "Please don't throw it too hard!" 

"You act like I'm an NFL player. Stop stroking my ego, love."

"Just throw the ball, Harry." 

He peers at you over his sunglasses as if to tell you to get ready, then brings his arm back over his head and throws it. It goes left and doesn't even reach you. 

"Nice throw," you say sarcastically as you pick it up. "You're really giving Aaron Rodgers a run for his money." 

Harry briefly scowls at your comment, and you glance back to see him jogging toward you. You try to run away from him, but he quickly lurches forward and lifts you. You squeal as he spins you around before setting you down and stealing the ball. 

After twenty minutes of Harry's horrible football skills, the both of you decide to lie on the hammock close to the water. You and Harry can fit on it together, so you curl into his side as he throws one arm around your shoulder to keep you near. Lightly swaying in the wind, you enjoy the peaceful serenity of where you live. Your daughter is still in view, collecting shells along the shore. The waves rush forward and then retreat. The clouds hang low in a sheath of gray. It's a sight to behold.

Harry kisses your cheek softly before murmuring, "Wanna talk about earlier?" 

"We probably should," you reply, propping yourself up with your elbow. 

"Talk to me about how you felt," he says, taking off his sunglasses. "Lay it all on me." 

You shift your gaze to your daughter. "I just... I know we've dealt with her tantrums before. But that one in the store was the worst one, you know? I've dealt with them alone when you're at work, and I know you deal with them when I'm gone, too. She's usually so well-behaved in public, and I kind of froze when she threw a fit. She wouldn't listen to me no matter what." 

Harry nods, paying full attention as you continue, "And I was embarrassed because people stared at me and probably wondered why I couldn't control my child. She's such a sweet girl, but it's those stubborn moods she gets into that frustrate me. I don't want to yell at her either, because that will upset her more. Then I almost started crying at the checkout because I felt so ashamed that you had to step in to help. And I know we're a team, but I felt useless." You finish with watery eyes while watching your sweet baby girl pick up a seashell and place it in her little self-made pile of others. 

Harry brings you closer and kisses your temple before responding in a voice that's just above a whisper. "Everything you just said, I understand entirely. I feel the same way sometimes. Remember when you were out with your friends and I was home alone when she was just a baby? I called you, bawling my eyes out, because she wouldn't let me hold her. She kept wailing, and I tried everything, but absolutely nothing worked. And I felt so shitty because my entire job as a dad is to take care of her, yet I couldn't even do that. I was so scared that she was done with me. But like I told you today: we're learning. We're in this together until she moves out and gets sick of—"

You kiss him mid-sentence. "Don't say that, please. She's not even three yet. I don't want to think about her moving out." 

Harry squeezes your shoulder and says, "Sorry. But you get the point, yeah?" He slides his hand up your neck and through your hair. "You're the best mom." I'm so grateful you can come to me and talk through these insecurities. We're never too old to talk about it." 

The sun peeks from the clouds, and you take in Harry's features, now basking in golden light. "You're the best dad and husband I could ever want. Thank you for being my shoulder to cry on and for always listening to me no matter how big or small the problem is." 

"I love you," he whispers, thumbing along your cheekbone. Did my sweet-talk give you flutters?" 

"Oh, it's fluttering. For sure."

"I've still got the moves," he says, pumping his fist. 

As you snuggle into his arms, your daughter prances over with a sand dollar in her palm. She clumsily clambers on top of Harry and holds it up to his face. His head retracts to look at it, and he smiles widely at her discovery, even though she already has about seven sand dollars in her bedroom. 

"For me?" he asks with exaggerated surprise. 

She nods. "Because you had work." 

Your heart melts at her sweetness. Harry looks over at you and raises his eyebrows before looking back at her. "Yeah? Thank you, baby. And where's mommy's present for getting you chocolate milk?" 

Her face drops, and she quickly climbs off before returning to her seashell pile. You laugh and hide your face on Harry's shoulder. Even through the hardships, you feel like the luckiest person on the planet every single day. 

Once the sun sets, you all walk to the house and settle in the backyard. It's a spacious area with two reclined chairs and trees surrounding them, with string lights strung across their branches. It's one of your favorite spaces. It's where you and Harry snag some alone time after your daughter goes to bed, or where slow dances and conversations about the future happen. 

Slow dancing still happens, but a certain little girl likes to join this time.

You venture inside momentarily and grab your music speaker, then head to your bedroom to steal one of Harry's old shirts for your daughter to wear as pajamas. It'll fit more like a dress on her, but she sleeps better with his scent engulfing her. Truthfully, you can't blame her.

Outside, Harry is letting your daughter look through his phone for a song to play. He helps her scroll through a playlist he created for sleep troubles. You unzip her dress and take it off as Harry helps maneuver her so you can pull the shirt over her head. She practically drowns in it. 

Once she chooses a song, you turn the speaker on so his phone can connect. The flute that begins playing is familiar—"Constant as the Stars Above" from Barbie as Rapunzel. Harry sometimes hums it to her when he tucks her in at night.

He sets her down and lets her stand on top of his feet with her Mary Janes. They dance under the moonlight, with Harry holding her hands above her head as he twirls her. She tiredly giggles, and you check your phone to see that it's way past her bedtime. You can't bring yourself to disrupt the moment, so you admire their special bond for the next few minutes.

When her eyes start drooping, you carry her inside and lay her in bed before calling it a night. Getting to wake up with your family tomorrow puts a dreamy smile on your face as you fall asleep to the sound of distant ocean waves. 

—— 

Sunday mornings are medicine for the soul. 

A delicious assortment of food is on the counters as Harry gracefully travels around the kitchen to flip pancakes on the griddle or crack eggs into the pan. He's entirely in his element, with tortoiseshell glasses over his sleepy eyes and a white robe tied around his body. Your daughter sits in her highchair at the kitchen table, her curls sticking up every which way. She's in her own world, eating Cheerios.

Whenever Harry passes by her to set plates or cups down, he ruffles her hair and kisses her cheek, sometimes even stealing a piece of cereal from her. She turns around with a pout before smiling because Harry playfully looks around the room and whistles nonchalantly, like he didn't do it. 

Once all of you are sitting down with plates full of Harry's five-star breakfast, you discuss plans for the day. Your daughter is spending the night with Harry's mother since it's date night for you and him. She's leaving right before dinnertime, so she'll still be spending a good portion of the day with the both of you. 

Harry plans to cook Chinese food tonight, and you plan on getting him to watch The Bachelorette with you. He told you he was absolutely not doing that, yet you know that once it's on, he'll become engrossed with the drama. He'll pretend he doesn't like it but then bombard you with questions about who hates who. 

It hits five in the evening fairly quickly, and your daughter just left with no fuss. You hope she doesn't have another one of her temper tantrums. 

Harry has changed out of his pajamas and into a white T-shirt with a baseball hat turned backward. He also has a bit of scruff from not shaving for the past week. 

There are days when you look at his outfit and think he looks more like a dad than usual. Today is one of those days. He has a black apron tied around his waist as he boils water for the rice. You'll never get tired of watching him cook. He's so focused and delicate with his hands, whether chopping vegetables or sprinkling seasoning. 

You sit on the counter and watch him. While he waits for the water to heat, his hands place themselves on either side of your legs. You smile as he slides his warm hand under your sweatshirt and strokes his thumb against your stomach. There are permanent stretch marks indented on your skin from being pregnant. You tried to get rid of them by using expensive creams and exercising. After a while, you gave up and slowly but surely accepted that your body helped grow and bring a child into the world, and there would forever be proof of it. Harry had helped tremendously with seeking acceptance. He never forced you to love the physical changes. He was the one helping you put on beauty cream and looking for workouts to do with you. He never pushed you. 

His thumb continues stroking your soft skin, and his eyes are zoned out on the floor. You wonder what he's thinking about. 

"The water's boiling," you whisper to snap him out of his trance. 

Harry stands straight and clears his throat. He pours the rice in, and your hand raises to scratch the stubble along his jaw. He tilts his head and kisses your palm. 

Once dinner is done—two savory Chinese chicken and fried rice bowls—the two of you sit across from each other and dig in. As Harry chews, you notice he's off in his own world again. You nudge your foot against his. 

"Where's your mind tonight?"

He blinks quickly. "Sorry. Were you saying something?" 

"No, I'm just observing you," you say with a soft smile. "You were daydreaming when you were making dinner, too. Just making sure you're okay." 

"Yeah, I'm good. I just… I wanted to talk to you about something before we go to bed. Nothing bad, I promise." 

"We can talk after we watch The Bachelorette. That's more important." 

He rolls his eyes and replies, "I guess I'll watch it with you." 

The both of you clean up after finishing your meals, then head to the couch and tune in to the show. You've been recording episodes after they premiere since you're usually too tired after work to stay up and watch them in full. You're about halfway through the season, and this is the first episode you've been able to watch with Harry. Or, well, force him to watch. He hates all the crying and stupid fights. Not to mention how you always talk about how cute the guys are. 

Your favorite contestant appears on screen, and you gasp. "That's Greg! Isn't he adorable? I want him to win." 

"He looks like he finishes too fast," Harry comments flatly. 

You scoff. "Looks like you guys have something in common, then." 

"I will shut this off and delete the recording," he threatens under his breath. 

"I'd divorce you. I'm not kidding." 

"And leave me for Greg? You wouldn't." 

You just huff and continue watching Greg get some action in a hot tub with the bachelorette. When there's a commercial break, you lay your head on Harry's lap. 

"If you were the bachelorette and I was a contestant, would you pick me?" he asks after a few moments. 

"No." 

He pinches your side. "Liar."

"It's true," you admit honestly. "You'd try too hard. You wouldn't kiss me the first night to seem like a gentleman. And then another guy would steal your time away from me, but you'd be too nice to say anything about it." 

"I would not," he argues weakly.

"You're getting pretty defensive. I beg to differ." 

"Whatever," he replies, scratching along your arm. "I'd sweep you off your feet, and then we'd get married. The whole nation would love us." 

"Greg could do that as well," you tease, loving how he's getting jealous. 

"Well, good thing we're already married and have a kid together. Unless you're planning on leaving me for him." 

"Thinking about it," you mumble as the show comes back on. 

When the episode ends, it's around nine. You still have dishes to wash, so you get up and fill the sink with soapy water. Harry is beside you in seconds to help, and you suddenly remember what he mentioned earlier during dinner. 

"So, what'd you want to talk about?" you ask, beginning to wash cups. 

"Oh, um, this is just something I've been thinking about lately. And I wanted to bring it up because it concerns both of us—you, mostly." 

He's nervously spewing words, so you shut the water off and grant him your full attention. "Talk to me," you encourage, bumping your hip with his. 

Harry exhales somewhat shakily. "When you were on the counter and my hand was under your sweatshirt, my mind immediately went back to when you were pregnant." He avoids eye contact as he scrubs a plate. "How much I loved it. The whole progression."

You know where this conversation is going. You've thought about it before. Dreamed, even.

"It's been on my mind for a while, you know?" he continues. "She's almost three, and I think having another one would be nice. Again, it's completely up to you. Pregnancy isn't easy, so it's just an idea." 

"But you've been thinking about it for a while?" you reiterate for clarity. Harry nods shyly, drying the clean plate with a towel. "I've been thinking about it, too," you add. 

Harry's head whips toward you. "What?"

"I feel ready to do it a second time. To be pregnant again." 

He sets the towel down. "Seriously? For real?"

"It's a perfect time. We've got the money and space. I'm all in if it's what you want. I think she would love to have a sibling." 

Harry inhales heavily and darts his gaze between both of your eyes. He then breaks out into a beautiful smile, rubbing his hand along his mouth. "Okay," he says. "Yeah, I want another baby more than anything. We can start trying whenever you're ready." 

You grin while washing your hands. The dishes can wait until tomorrow. "We can start tonight. We're home alone, and the outfit you're wearing is making me hot." 

"Yeah?" he says, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "Sweet. Wait, right now? Are we doing this?" 

"Yes, right now," you reply as you walk toward the bedroom. "C'mon, let's brush our teeth and get a head start." 

Harry takes off his hat and catches up to you. When you glance back, he's nervously wringing his hands in front of him like a schoolboy, and it almost makes you laugh. After seven years together and experiencing the awkward stages of dating and then pushing out an entire child with him in the room, he still gets nervous about these things. 

It reminds you of the time you told him you were pregnant. 

—— 

You pushed the gift bag toward Harry, and he gave you a suspicious look paired with a smirk. 

"Did I miss our anniversary or something?" he murmured as he opened the bag and pulled out something wrapped in tissue paper. 

You shook your head and braced for his reaction. You'd been trying for a few months, and you finally got the answer that both of you wanted. The positive pregnancy test hidden behind your back felt like a ticking bomb. 

Harry carefully unwrapped the present. His eyebrows furrowed as he unfolded an apron in front of him. His eyes ran over it, and then his jaw went slack. Written on the fabric was 'Daddy Duty,' and three pockets were sewn into the bottom to hold baby supplies while he cooked. 

He stared at you with wide, tear-filled eyes. You just nodded your head and presented the stick from behind your back. He slowly stood, setting the apron on the coffee table, and walked over to you with his hands reaching out. He took the stick with a shaky hand, his other covering his mouth. 

Staring up at the ceiling, Harry choked out something between a relieved breath and a sob. His arms instantly wrapped around your shoulders, bringing you into his warm embrace. He was trying hard to keep it together, but you heard his shaky inhales and sniffles. You were crying, too. You'd both wanted this for so long. 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he whispered against your neck. "I can't believe this. How far along are you?" 

"I'll know at my first appointment next Thursday. I'll text you all the information." 

"No, screw that. I'll take off work. I have to be there." 

"Okay, we'll go together," you told him, secretly hoping he would say that. "Are you happy? I was so nervous. I didn't know how to tell you." 

"Of course, I'm happy." He breathed exasperatedly, like he couldn't believe what you had just revealed. We're going to be parents. We're going to have a baby." 

The two of you laughed at each other in disbelief. It was surreal, and it was all happening at the perfect time. 

—— 

The thought of giving him another baby to cradle in his arms and to get up with at crazy hours in the morning leaves you yearning for it more than ever. 

After brushing your teeth, you take your clothes off and don't waste any time taking Harry's off. You push him to make him lay back on the silk sheets before straddling his thighs, his tattoo peeking out from underneath his boxers. You grind against his cock, noticing he's hard already. Your hands spread on his firm chest as you continue rolling your hips. 

Your underwear dampens, and Harry's hands grip your waist. He lifts his hips to relieve some pressure, his neck straining as he whimpers after every movement of yours. 

You stop straddling him and slide his boxers off, his cock resting against his abdomen. You then take your underwear off and hike your legs over his thighs to hover over them again. This is the first time he's gone without a condom since you were pregnant, so you're nervous about the raw feeling. 

"Are you with me, baby?" Harry asks breathily. "We're doing this?" 

"I'm just going to go slow so it doesn't burn," you say, lining yourself up. 

He nods encouragingly. "We'll take our time. Let's make this good." 

You exhale and slowly sink yourself into his cock. The stretch burns, but it still feels heavenly without a barrier. Harry groans as your hands grip his tense shoulders. His fingers flex on your hips when you take him all the way and begin rocking back and forth. He moans in response, his hips meeting the motion of yours. 

You've missed this. You can feel every inch of his skin, and the contact is a pleasure like no other. 

Harry decides to quickly flip you over so he can be on top. His forearms prop himself up as he starts thrusting at a faster pace. So much for going slow. His face is buried in your neck, and he places nipping kisses on it every so often, leaving love bites. You wrap your trembling legs around his body as he hits the deeper spots that have you arching your back against the mattress. 

"Feel good?" he asks, his cheek resting against yours. 

"So, so good. Don't stop." 

The pit of your stomach forms a tight knot as he continues. He lowers one hand and stimulates your clit with his thumb as he roughly snaps his hips against yours, letting out salacious groans and whimpers into your ear. His body is warm like a personal furnace—it's burning against yours, and the closeness of your two bodies always leads to eruption.

"I'm almost there," you say, heat striking your back. "Keep going. Please don't stop." 

"I'm close—God, I'm close. I'm with you, honey. Just tell me when you're ready." 

You clench around him, and he pulls out and quickly gets behind you, pushing you to lay on your side. He thrusts back in, his chest pressing right against your back. One hand moves to grope your breast, and his other arm places itself above your head on the pillow to move some strands of hair off your forehead. The two sensations have you leaning your neck back against his shoulder and moaning loudly. 

Your orgasm hits before you can warn him, and you cry out as his hips slow, riding it out before stilling and shuddering out his release. Broken groans are muffled into your neck as he asks, "Gonna make me a dad again?" You nod fervently at his question. "Yeah?" 

You keep nodding until he's physically spent. He keeps his cock inside you, his body relaxing against yours. The both of you are breathing heavily, and you feel his cock soften, the feeling bringing you a strange sense of comfort. 

"Think that did it?" he asks.

"I hope so," you answer. Harry repositions himself, his cock nudging inside of you. "God, you feel so perfect all the time." 

Harry begins stroking his hand across your stomach, every so often giving you a gentle thrust that has you softly clenching around him. You're sensitive, but it's a natural response. When his hand starts rubbing circles around your stomach to ease the remaining pressure there, you smile giddily and think about getting to experience pregnancy all over again. 

Harry eventually pulls out and kneels before you, hooking your knees over his shoulders. This is precisely what he did the last time you were trying for a baby years ago. Apparently, the position is supposed to help get one to stick, for lack of better words. 

Harry begins whistling nonchalantly, and you start laughing hard because he's acting like he does this every day. He tries to give you a look as if to say what he's doing is incredibly serious business, but he eventually sputters a laugh. Now, both of you are giggling like maniacs. 

After about five minutes in the position, Harry sets your legs down to put his boxers back on and then leaves. He comes back and provides you with aftercare—a warm, damp cloth, a clean pair of underwear, and one of the brownies you baked earlier today. 

You eat your dessert while the ocean waves crash outside the open window. You get comfortable on his lap, and he circles his arms around your waist. 

Tomorrow will mark the start of a new week. Your daughter will come home, and you all will make new memories together. 

After tonight, it will hopefully be the start of another chapter. 

——

[lieslab]

Okay request: (since you asked for some so I'll think and SEND IT INNNNN)

So imagine you have to get up super early and can't stay in bed to cuddle. So sleepy Felix shuffles around with you and basically lays on top of you while you make breakfast and you try to convince him to just go back to bed, you'd cuddle when you get home but "I won't survive without for that long, need to get some cuddlezz nowwww" in his raspy sleepy voice so you pet his hair and give him a kiss on his forehead and let him do his thing.

And when you leave you tuck him in and seal it with a sweet lil kissie🥰

GODD I had to get up early today and I feel so cold and cuddle depriveded so totally not taken from real life.....

Anyways hope you liked the idea, take it or throw it away, don't write it (obviously) if you don't wanna, have a great day, don't forget to drink some waterrrrrr aaaaand

Goodbye😘

Omg thank you for this!! This is great because the next two drabbles I have planned are angsty and this is a nice break from that. This is sooo cute and I'm so sorry you had to wake up like that 😔 I hope this can make you feel a tad bit better <3

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Cuddle bug

Summary: You have to get up early on a Saturday morning for work, but Felix refuses to let you leave in peace.

Pairing: Felix x gn reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.5K

_ _ _

You were used to your morning routine. You did this multiple times before. The moment your alarm clock began to ring, you quickly sat up to silence it. You slowly crept out of the bed you shared with your boyfriend. 

The moment your feet hit the ground, you headed to your dresser, grabbed clean clothes to change into, and snuck into the bathroom. You were lucky Felix was a heavy sleeper. He didn’t wake up when your alarm clock went off. 

When you were in the bathroom trying to do your morning routine as quietly as possible, he never stirred. You shimmied out of your pajamas and into a fresh pair of clean clothes. You combed out the rat’s nest you called hair and slipped out of the bathroom. 

You grabbed everything you needed and were about to sneak out to the kitchen when the sound of a deep sleepy voice stopped you. “What are you doing?” 

You spun around to see your boyfriend sitting up in the shared bed. His eyes were half open as the first morning streaks of yellow sunlight filtered in through your curtains. His blonde hair stuck out in every direction in a spiked halo. Your shared comforter had found a home around his neck and he wrapped it around his body tightly. 

A chuckle fell from you as the freckled boy waited for your response. “I have work this morning.” 

“Work?” His eyes suddenly shot wide open. “But, but, but,” he sputtered trying to get the words out. “But it’s Saturday! Saturdays are strictly for us!” 

Guilt swept over you, but you pushed it down. “I know and I’m sorry. I’ll have to make it up to you when I get home.” 

“Tell your boss you’re sick.” 

“Baby, you know I can’t do that.” 

He groaned and flung himself backwards in the bed. His head hit the pillow with a soft thwat. It was hard to keep the smile off your face at his childish behavior. His lips stuck out in a pout as he hmmph’d.

“Do you want breakfast while you’re up?” You asked. 

“No! I want you to come back into our bed and keep me warm!” He grumbled beneath his breath and you managed to pick up something along the lines of large corporations being shitty. 

“Alright, I’ll make you some food and put it in the fridge for later.” You let him deal with his pity party on his own. 

Once you were gone, he groaned again and rolled over to wiggle out of the bed. He huffed, stood up, and followed you to the kitchen. You turned around at the sound of footsteps behind you and burst into laughter. 

Felix looked annoyed and tired. He shot you a sleepy glare, “it’s not funny.” 

You weren’t laughing at the situation, you were laughing at him. He yanked the royal blue comforter over his head and wrapped it around himself. It clung around his body and nearly engulfed him whole. He looked like a child in an oversized winter coat. 

“It’s not funny,” you agreed and you forced yourself to stop laughing. “I’m sure you’re still tired, why don’t you go back to bed?” 

“I can’t leave you alone on our reserved day. I’ll already be alone while you’re at work.” 

“I promise we’ll have the whole evening together and you’re still tired. You’ve been through a lot this week and you need the ext-” 

“No!” 

You stumbled forward a bit as he walked around you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He snuggled his face into the middle of your back and let out a sigh of relief. Another smile appeared on your face. 

“I’m not letting you go.” 

“But I need to make breakfast,” you objected. 

“So? I’m not stopping you.” 

“But you should g-” 

“No.” 

“You really need t-” 

“Nuh-uh.” 

“Felix please, we can cuddle later,” you tried again. 

“You want me to go that long without your cuddles? You’re practically asking me to just die. I can’t wait that long!” His voice came out whiny.  “How am I going to survive until then?” 

“Okay, okay, fine,” you finally gave up, “but I’m going to start walking around. If you end up hitting the floor, it’ll be your own fault.” 

“I’m not gonna hit the floor.” 

“We’ll see about that.” 

Felix’s arms wrapped around you tighter as you made your way to the fridge. You hummed beneath your breath while pulling out the ingredients to make breakfast burritos. Since he was up against you, he could hear every breath you took. 

The warmth of your body pressed against his cheek sent a flood of happiness through him. Everything was going okay until you needed to get a pan out of the bottom cupboard. You didn’t want to risk bending down and falling with him on top of you. 

“Alright, babe, you’ve gotta get off for a moment. I need to get a pan and I don’t want us to fall.” You gently patted one of his arms around your waist. 

He let out a groan, but soon obliged. Once he let go, you retrieved a pan and stood back up. You glanced over to see him still swaddled up in the comforter. He could barely keep his eyes open. The sight tugged at your heartstrings. 

He could have been sleeping in the comfort of the bed, but he wanted to be around you so much, he forced himself to get up and follow you. You would be lying if you said you weren’t secretly thrilled. You knew Felix loved skinship, but you hadn’t realized he was attached to you this much. 

You reached up and ruffled a hand through his hair. His eyes opened a little wider. You leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead. The small action caused his cheeks to fade into a soft pink beneath his freckles. 

You turned back to the stove with your pan. “Alright, you can go back to hanging onto me now.” 

After receiving the okay, Felix quickly reattached himself to your back. You went back to humming one of your favorite songs. Felix was drifting between the land of unconsciousness and reality. 

You washed and chopped potatoes. Throwing them into a skillet with a splash of oil, you let them begin to cook while you cooked bits of diced bacon in another skillet. When the bacon finished cooking, you cracked a few eggs into the same pan and let the eggs cook with the help of bacon grease. 

Felix let you work your magic in silence. Behind you, he drifted further and further to sleep. He was comfortable and you knew it. You felt his weight press into your body more and more. 

At one point, you felt him stumble as he tried to regain his footing. While breakfast cooked, you moved away from the hot stove and pulled his arms off of you. He mumbled something, but the words were too slurred, so you couldn’t hear it. 

“Come on, baby,” you cooed at him. You grabbed his arms and led him back towards your bed. “The bed is waiting for you and you’re practically asleep on your feet.” 

“Am not,” Felix mumbled. 

He couldn’t keep his eyes open and his limbs felt heavier than normal. You made sure he avoided obstacles and led him to the bed. You pulled the blankets down and helped get back in the bed. Once he was there, you took your time tucking him in. 

“Gimme a kiss.” He kept his eyes closed and puckered his lips. 

You suppressed your chuckle and bent down to kiss him. It was rather quick, so when you pulled away he whined. “I want a real kiss!” 

“That was a real kiss,” you insisted. 

“Is your love for me fake?” 

Your eyes widened with surprise. “Of course not! Why would I-” 

“Then kiss me like you mean it!” 

You bent down and pressed your lips against his again. When you finished, you pulled away and began planting kisses along the tops of his cheeks. A grin lit up his face as he laughed. You left no part of his face untouched. 

You kissed his forehead, his cheeks, and his chin. You ended your spectacle with a kiss to his nose before your lips met his again. You kissed him with a big fat slobbery “mwah!” and pulled away. 

“Was that good enough?” You asked. 

“I guess it’ll do.” 

“What more do you want?” 

“Stay home with me?” 

“I promise I’m all yours this evening, alright?” 

“Oh, alright.” His mouth opened in a wide yawn. He snuggled further into the comforter around him. 

You watched him for a few seconds before you spoke up. “I’ll leave your food in the fridge okay? I’m sorry I have to leave, but if I don’t go in, they’ll write me up.” You continued apologizing until you were cut off with a soft snore. 

Your heart fluttered when you realized Felix finally fell back to sleep. You leaned forward, brushed a few strands of hair from his forehead, and bent down to press a final kiss to the middle of his forehead. “Sleep tight, baby, I’ll see you later.” You pulled away and stood back up. 

Before you left the room, you pulled out your phone to text him a reminder that his food was in the fridge and you went back to the kitchen to eat your breakfast.

[grandeoatmilklatte]

Saturday Morning Snails 🐌 (Garreth Weasley x F!MC)

Was in desperate need of some Garreth inspiration, and the incredible @ellivenollivander decided to help me. She created a random mood board and told me to try and write a Garreth fic based around it and it worked! Enjoy!

Warnings: Fluff with some very slight NSFW implications || characters are over 18!

Word Count: 1.0k

Golden rays of sunshine poured through the open window, pulling the sleeping girl out of her deep slumber. She rolled over, deeming it too early to wake up, even though she had no idea what time it was. Not that the time mattered anymore to her - she had nowhere to go. 

On Monday, she had lost her job, the small bookstore she worked at needing to cut down their staff due a slowdown in sales. It was now Saturday, and she had spent the week in the exact same routine - sleeping all morning, waking up in the early afternoon, moping around all day until Garreth came home from work, fixing him dinner, and then moping around all evening until it was time for bed. She didn’t have the energy or desire to do anything else. Typically on a Saturday morning, she’d welcome the rays of sunshine pouring into her window, always taking a moment to gaze out into the lush green trees of the forest that surrounded their countryside home; but today, not even the beautiful scenery outside made her happy. 

She rolled over again, her foot bumping a solid mass that meowed at her. She sat up and tossed her blanket aside to find their orange cat at her feet. “Oh, Orange Juice, I’m sorry to have woken you.” She picked him up in her arms, hugging him before placing him on her thighs, where he readjusted himself to go back to sleep. 

The purring from her feline friend warmed her heart, giving her a burst of serotonin, something she hadn’t had in days. 

“Hey, I should be the only ginger in your lap like that!” Garreth jokingly shouted at his girlfriend as he entered their bedroom and climbed on the bed. The stupid joke caused the girl to let out a soft laugh. 

“Aw there’s my happy girl! It’s been a bit since I’ve heard you laugh.”

She looked up at Garreth, struggling to smile and fighting back tears, but she didn’t have to fight long, as Garreth pulled her into a hug, his arms providing her comfort and safety when she felt like her world was falling apart around her. She nuzzled into his neck and hugged him back as one of his hands came up to stroke her hair. After holding her for several seconds, Garreth pulled back. 

“I made you breakfast, sweetheart! Let me bring it for you so you can eat it in bed. You look far too comfy for me to make you go to the kitchen for it.” 

Without another word, Garreth jumped off the bed, the action startling Orange Juice, causing him to move to another position at the foot of the bed. Garreth came back a moment later, a dumb smile on his face, with a plate in one hand, and a cup of coffee in the other. He set the coffee on her nightstand, and the plate in her lap. The girl looked down to find some oddly shaped pancakes, needing a moment to determine what shape they were. 

“Darling, are these…snails?” 

“Yes! While I was making breakfast, I saw a snail on our windowsill. I named him Gregory. He inspired me to make these snail shaped pancakes because I, well me and Gregory that is, thought they’d help cheer you up! When I woke up this morning, I promised myself that I was going to spend this Saturday making you feel better.”

She smiled at Garreth. Even when times got tough, she could always rely on him to put a smile on her face. She loved Garreth, and she knew that Garreth loved her. As she began to enjoy her snail shaped pancakes, Garreth spoke, talking as if he could read his girlfriend’s mind. 

“I love you, sweetheart! Don’t ever forget that. Don’t forget that I’m here. I’ll always be here. I know things have been tough for you. I wish I could just snap my fingers and make it all better. Unfortunately, there are some limitations to our magic. So instead, I’ll just be the best boyfriend I can be to you. As long as we have each other, we can get through anything!”

The girl fought back tears again, but this time it was tears of joy as she threw her arms around Garreth and kissed him, almost sending her plate of snails crashing to the floor. Garreth’s quick reflexes saved the plate, him delicately placing the plate on the nightstand as he kissed her back. 

She felt Garreth’s tongue press against her lips, silently asking for entry. She parted her lips, greeting Garreth’s tongue with her own. He placed his hand on her lower back, adjusting her so that she was laying down, his lips never leaving hers as he climbed on top of her. He began to slip his hand up her night dress when a “meow” next to them broke Garreth’s concentration. 

“Ugh, sorry Juicy! You need some breakfast too! Just lay there and be pretty, baby, I’ll be right back!” Garreth scooped Orange Juice in his arms, earning himself an annoyed meow as he hopped off the bed and dashed off to the kitchen. 

She laid on the bed as Garreth requested, smiling to herself. Garreth was right - as long as they had each other, they could get through any hardship life threw their way. He loved her, and would support her through anything, as she would do for him.

As promised, Garreth returned a moment later, tossing himself on the bed to resume his position on top of her. The entire bed shook when he jumped, which brought a fit of laughter out of her.

“I love you, baby!” He said softly as he planted a kiss on her forehead. He gave her a sweet smile for a moment, before that sweet smile turned into a mischievous one. “Now then, where were we?” He said as his hand slid back up her night dress. After all, Garreth had made a promise to make her feel better this Saturday, and the pancakes were only the beginning. 

–

[pianistbynight]

waning summer days

i cheated and recorded in sections, then spliced them together because i can't get a single clean take. if it's not me making a mistake, it's noise surrounding me. this way, the pressure was lessened and i think i did better (far from "perfect" tho) and it was less frustrating.

thursday | 08/15/24

no piano today. i'm tired. but i did read more of sweet bean paste and continued to work on the databases course. today was a bit chaotic, so i couldn't get 2h of studying in, but if i sleep early, i can maybe hopefully wake up earlier to work on it.

friday | 08/16/24

tried to play piano but then stopped because i got tired sooner than i expected. (also tried out a voice recorder app to record the piano audio instead of my phone camera but didn't like it...too much treble.) i finished 1 subsection of the databases course. caught up with @zzzzzestforlife. listened to some lofi and watched some youtube.

i'm trying to get myself in the mood to prep for the upcoming school year 😮‍💨 i...find myself dreading more and more each coming school year for some reason. ... it's not the work i fear. i know i can do it well but it takes so much of me. and i wonder what i'm doing this for. because i don't have all the stepping stones laid out yet. 😮‍💨 i need to work on that, so i'm going to sleep now so i can have more energy to continue doing this tomorrow. good night.

saturday | 08/17/24

i had a much more ambitious plan originally, but the only solo activity i actually had time and energy for was journaling because coming back to my hometown reminded me of and clarified some memories and opinions i had formed long ago, how they've shaped who i am now... the rest of the time i spent with family with real conversation for the first time in a while, so that was nice.

sunday | 08/18/24

sigh. i have never felt like i belonged in my former hometown and the loneliness is striking much stronger now. i was so tired i couldn't do much today except start filling in the YearCompass because who said the new year had to begin in january lol. i'm glad today was a chill day spent at my temporary home.

i will try to sleep early tonight. hopefully i won't wake up in between and be unable to fall back asleep again.

monday | 08/19/24

today was my first day of passable sleep quality in the last couple days. i woke up later than i expected. yet i still didn't feel like doing anything. i forced myself to do some duolingo for cheap dopamine, and later in the afternoon, i attempted to get through 1 more subsection of the databases course but couldn't focus. instead, i researched how to apply to take courses at another university in my area since there are some interesting courses there that aren't available at the one i attend. at night, i practiced the last bit of the clementi sonata and tried to record the whole thing but couldn't get a good one. i'm too tensed and distracted. i need to practice playing while relaxed, focusing only on what's relevant in the moment.

review U1 japanese, start hiragana practice ✅

work on databases course 🟨

practice piano ✅

tuesday | 08/20/24

fill in the YearCompass bc i'm too tired to journal unprompted and i want to be filled with hope for this school year instead of constantly drained and increasingly discouraged, disappointed, and depressed (why do so many negative things start with "d"? even the saddest songs are in d minor...)

practice playing clementi sonata while relaxed throughout and focused only on what's currently relevant

DATABASES COURSEEE - finish 4/13 subsections ✅ (ended up finishing 2 and starting a 3rd...this is harder than i thought it'd be but it'll be good for me to keep going...)

wednesday | 08/21/24

i don't even remember what happened. probably because i wasn't very productive. i was unusually angry and moody. i tried to record a single clean take and kept failing. i merely inched forward in the databases course. it was a day full of frustrating but necessary interruptions. it was tiring. i can't wait to go home.

thursday | 08/22/24

recorded the clementi sonata in sections...with more time and energy, i probably could've done better. almost 50% through the databases course. feeling a little better today than yesterday but always easily tired. this might be my last summer-themed post for the year as i'm already in an "autumnal mood." 🍂😅 i'll see you later either here or on my sideblog @studentbyday 🙂

[medstudentblues]

hello! it’s 10 in the morning, and I had been up for hours watching a sketchy video, downloading some anki decks, and answering immunology anki decks. now, you might be wondering why I am studying, if I have any exams due soon. no exams as of the moment. the real studying starts on the week of clerkship, but for now I’m just doing light studying. doing active recall to simulate my brain.

I had a double shot espresso with milk and a toasted bread with melted lurpak butter for breakfast, journaled a bit, and now it’s time to do some cleaning I scheduled for today!

THE big to-do list for saturday

start pharma anki

put basic audit schedule on notion

watch sketchy pharm

watch 2 dirty medicine and ninja nerd videos (physiology preferably)

put batteries on thermometer and pulse oximeter

change bedsheet

clean walls

laundry: curtains

laundry: berry things

sort out files on desk

clean electric fans

workout

ps. I’m trying to fix my body clock since I had been waking up at 10am and sleeping at 3am for the first half of June, and this morning even though I only had 4 hrs of sleep, I woke up at 7am and couldn’t go back to sleep so I started my day early. will probably just nap later. I feel tired, but it’s okay! I’ll get there. I plan on being the morning person I am this clerkship again

[octuscle]

I am a poor and stressed office worker in a gray building, my boss demands a lot of me, and on top of that sometimes because of this stress I have problems of total sexual impotence. I would like to be a fearless and sexually powerful muscular racing driver, an undisputed super champion on the tracks. with arrogant attitude, a masculine symbol of power and virility

Dude, you're closer to retirement than your college degree. And like any good New Yorker, you don't even have a driver's license. That makes your wish a little original, doesn't it? And I also don't understand why you always turn to support for problems like this. Why don't you take your life into your own hands?

Friday night. Almost 8pm already. Finally off work. All your colleagues have long since left for the weekend. But your sadistic boss has dumped one task after another on you. You hate him, you hate your job … You hate your life. But your life can change. "Driver's license in just one week! Live your dream now!" Damn, has the driving school always been here between the office and the subway station? Maybe that's a sign. You just go in. It doesn't cost anything to ask.

The guy at reception is hot. Tight body. Leather pants. Dazzling smile. Greets you like an old friend, tells you that you're the first customer today and that you'll get a special price if you start your theory lesson today. You feel a little taken by surprise. But it brings you closer to your dream. So you sign up. And just fifteen minutes later, you're learning all about the rules of the road. But your eyes are more focused on your driving instructor's bulge.

As you take your leather jacket and backpack from the checkroom after the lesson, your driving instructor tells you that you've handed in your sheets with 0 faults. So you're almost ready for the theory test. But first you have your first driving lesson tomorrow at 08:00. You can hardly wait. And yet you have to go to bed now. It's been a tough week and now it's almost midnight…

Shit, you misjudged the time on your morning jog. Only an hour to go until your driving lesson starts. No time left to shower or change at the driving school. You get into your new motorcycle suit, grab your helmet and head for the subway. You look a bit funny in full gear… But thank God it's still early on a Saturday morning and there's not much going on yet…

Your teacher thinks you're a natural. Your bike and you form a unit from the very first second. Sure, you've always been interested in engines, you have a feel for the 130 hp that lies dormant in the beast. And you love speed. And you love the bulge in your instructor's pants. Shit, that guy is so hot. But you can't say goodbye to your driving instructor with a French kiss. You try to stay cool and say goodbye with a fist bump. He slaps your ass and tells you to come to theory class a little earlier tonight.

Until then, you still have a bit of time to go to the gym. The leather suit doesn't forgive an ounce of fat. To look anywhere near as hot as your driving instructor in your leather trousers, you need one or two hours of gym a day. In addition to running, in addition to your second passion, taekwondo. When you arrive at the driving school an hour before the start of training, your driving instructor is already waiting for you with a naked upper body and a painful-looking bump. He asks you if you would like to be ridden instead of riding your motorcycle for a change. You grin and reply that you thought he'd never ask.

It's convenient that you wake up on a Sunday morning right next to your driving instructor. Damn, why driving instructor? He's your mate and your coach. No one needs to teach you how to ride a motorcycle. Today you're going to the racetrack again before the big race. Find the ideal line. Exploring the limits of technology. You are a perfectionist. Motorcycle racing and martial arts form the perfect unit for you. In both cases, an opponent is unforgiving of mistakes. And in both cases, you have to be in full control of your body every second.

But you will never make a mistake. You are young, talented and in the shape of your life. Your friend thinks it's time for you to relax. Race to the lake, the loser has to blow the winner. Hehehe, you're already ready for your victory bonus when your friend rolls into the parking lot. He's a very good loser!

[renneliaselfship]

Imagine taking the bus home with your f/o after a tired day and falling asleep on their shoulder or the other way around <3

Today was a tiring day and for the first time since I was a very young child I fell asleep on the bus that takes me home and I couldn’t help but imagine Cornelia sitting next to me on the bus, both asleep resting on each other

I did also made a drawing however I have no idea how to draw so I spent like 2 hours doing this and I think the intention is all that counts

You can see what I wrote and the drawing after this point

“The bus is coming,” Cornelia said in a tired voice, waking up early in the morning wasn’t his thing, he didn’t think it was anyone’s thing if he was honest. It was Saturday after all, a day where many overslept and woke up until lunch time but not him or Rene. Thankfully the morning had ended and now they were waiting for the bus to take them home.

The two of them signaled the bus stop, “ah fuck,” Rene said under his breath, it was midday and the bus was full but they still got in it and paid. At least it wasn’t as full as other times where people were barely in the bus, if the bus were to take a curve the wrong way at least five people would fall. Thankfully it wasn’t one of those times. Sure they needed to go standing up but it was better than waiting for the next bus under the sun… right?

Neither of them really wanted to be standing up, especially because the bus was barely moving due to traffic, it would probably take some good minutes to get to the next stop.

Neither of them spoke, one because the chauffeur was one of those who would put the music so loud you could hear the vibrations through your body but also because both were simply just so tired at the moment.

It took around fifteen minutes for a seat to be free and Rene hurried to take it, “give me your bag,” he said to Cornelia once he sat down on the aisle seat with Cornelia standing right next to him.

“I’m fine,” Cornelia replied.

“Just give it to me, your bag is big so it gets in the way when people try to pass to get to the exit at the back,” the seat he got was on the third row so Cornelia was standing close to the entrance. “It is also more comfortable if you stand with nothing on your back,” he added.

That was true, so Cornelia handed the bag to him.

They still hadn’t reached the next stop but they were close to it and since the traffic was so slow some people had decided to get down the bus, sadly it was people standing and one sitting, Rene hoped the person sitting next to him would get off on the next stop.

It felt good to sit down, they wouldn’t get off the bus in a while, their stop was the second to last so maybe he could close his eyes for a moment and-

“Excuse me,” the person sitting next to him was half standing, Rene stood up and let the man get out of the seat, he then moved to take the seat next to the window. Cornelia sat next to him a second later on the aisle seat.

Cornelia took his bag from Rene’s legs, “it is hot and having to bags won’t be comfortable,” he explained, the sun was high in the sky, entering through the window and the weather was hot, it was impossible not to sweat even while just sitting on the bus, so having to bags on your legs meant your legs were going to sweat, in fact, Rene already could feel a bit of sweat right where he had rested his and Cornelia’s bags, it wasn’t a lot so it didn’t really matter, it was mostly the annoyance of it.

Usually it was impossible to sleep in such weather and even more impossible to sleep on a bus but the traffic was slow and both were tired.

Rene rested his head on Cornelia’s left shoulder and closed his eyes, he felt Cornelia’s head on his own, it seemed the two had thought the same.

With this traffic, we won’t arrive home in a while… Rene thought already feeling like he was gonna fall asleep at any second.

~~~

“Hey,” Cornelia woke up by his arm being shaken.

“What?” He sat straight, making Rene wake up confused as to what happened.

“You two fell asleep, what was your stop?” The chauffeur of the bus asked him.

“Ah shit we already arrived at the last stop?”

“A minute ago, a bus it’s about to leave again.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Cornelia said, “we were gonna get down on the previous stop,” he smiled at the man, thanking him for waking them up before getting down the bus.

“Can’t believe we actually fell asleep,” Rene said, both started to walk to their home, from the bus stop it was only three minutes away, “I’ve never been so happy to have this route of buses start and end the trip here.”

“You’re always happy for that,” Cornelia smiled, “should we buy lunch?”

“Yeah, by the way, can you get my phone from me?” He stood next to Cornelia so he could open the bag and get the phone.

“Here,” Cornelia handed the phone to him and closed the bag.

“Damn,” Rene started to walk again, Cornelia followed, both walking next to each other now, “it is 1:30, hopefully we still find some food.”

“We better do, because I don’t feel like cooking.”

“You can’t cook,” Rene said in a joking tone, “let’s hurry up.” Luckily for them, there was a place to buy lunches on their short way home.

[shigayokagayama]

teru week day seven: birthday

Teru wished he could say he had totally forgotten it was his birthday. He wished he could have gone about his morning as normal, nonchalantly checked the date, and realized oh! He was fifteen years old today!

Instead he lay in bed, sleepless, watching the sunrise through his blinds, shivering, waiting for his phone to go off.

He had told himself last night he had to get to bed early. If they called while he was asleep they called while he was asleep, he could just call back in the morning, no big deal. Nevermind that they always seemed to be too busy to pick up the phone. Nevermind that their voicemail inbox had been full for six months.

He heard his phone buzz and sat up in bed, staring at the light illuminating his nightstand. He waited until the light dimmed before he worked up the courage to reach for it.

“Hey! Wanted to know if you’d be available to swing by the office later today, just got a big assignment and could REALLY use the help. Thank you!”

Oh. It was just Reigen.

“Sure! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ TERU✧ﾟ･:*”

Teru decided to officially give up on trying to fall asleep. It was, what, 5:30 am? Perfect time to wake up on a saturday.

As he absentmindedly flipped between TV channels he heard his phone buzz again. Reigen again?

“Happy birthday Hanazawa-kun :) Do you want to hang out today?”

Teru smiled. It was pretty rare for Kageyama to text him first. He was good enough at keeping conversations going, but initiating them seemed to be a struggle for both of them.

“You remembered?”

“Yeah! We’re almost exactly a month apart haha :)”

“☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆ I have to go to Reigen-san’s around 16:00 but before then I’m free (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ TERU✧ﾟ･:*”

“I just got up but meet downtown around 9?”

“╰(*°▽°*)╯ Sounds good! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ TERU✧ﾟ･:*”

“Okay! :) See you then!”

–

Teru scanned the area as he walked through the crowded streets of downtown Seasoning City. The area seemed safe enough at a glance, but he could never be too careful. The man in a blue hoodie had been walking the same path as him for a couple blocks now, maybe it was time to quicken his pace. The man didn’t speed up to match him so Teru let his shoulders relax a bit. Oh, there was Kageyama, about three blocks away. He hurried forward, careful not to lose focus on his surroundings.

“Kageyama-kun!” he called with a wave as soon as he was on the same block. Kageyama looked at him with a start and waved back.

“Oh, hi Hanazawa-kun!” he said with a slight smile. “It’s been a bit, huh? How’ve you been?”

“Ah, I’m alright,” Teru said. Should he talk about his recovery post confession-incident or would that make things weird? “School’s been alright, and my friends from the Awakening Lab have been keeping me busy outside that. How about you?”

“Ah, I’ve been so busy with school and my clubs that I haven’t really had time for anything else,” he said, “I actually haven’t really gotten to see Reigen-shishou at all since. Uh.”

He looked away uncomfortably for a moment. Teru reached out and put a hand on his shoulder with a reassuring smile. Kageyama looked back and smiled weakly.

“So! What’s the plan?” Teru asked.

“Boba?” Kageyama suggested.

“Don’t think they’re open this early, coffee maybe?” Teru said.

“Oh, I don’t like coffee that much, it’s too bitter,” Kageyama said guiltily.

“Hummingbird taste buds?” Teru giggled. Kageyama snorted and rolled his eyes. Since when did he do that? “You know most cafes serve things other than coffee, right?”

“But you said coffee,” Kageyama protested.

“I meant it as a catchall for ‘served at cafes’,” Teru explained, “Context clues.” 

“Do sandwiches fall under the ‘coffee’ umbrella?” Kageyama said, thoughtfully stroking his chin and suppressing a smile.

“My friend, a coffee can be anything you want it to be,” Teru said with the intonation of a philosopher. Kageyama giggled and Teru felt his heart jump. Since when did he do that?

–

“I’ll take a mint matcha frappe with extra whip,” Teru said, stepping aside to let Kageyama order, then jumping back in front of him. “Two pumps of mint actually, please.”

The cashier stared at him blankly, then flickered her gaze to Kageyama.

“Uh. I’ll have a hot chocolate I guess.” he said

“Any adjustments?”

“No, thank you.”

“Okay so a mint matcha frappe with extra mint and extra whipped cream and a hot chocolate,” the cashier said. “That’ll be 1468 yen.”

Teru reached into his pocket for his wallet at the same time as Kageyama. The two of them raced to put their yen on the counter first.

“It’s your birthday,” Kageyama said, shoving Teru’s money aside, “Let me pay.”

Teru groaned and rolled his eyes, putting the 2000 yen note back in his wallet. The cashier took Kageyama’s note and handed him back his change.

“Fine,” he sighed, “But on your birthday I’m getting you the most expensive drink they’ll let us make, got it?”

“They get more expensive than yours?” Kageyama said, voice lined with disbelief.

“Oh yeah, I totally could’ve bankrupted you back there,” Teru said as they walked away, “I swear I’ve ordered 1200 yen drinks from here before with all the syrup and caramel I’ve added.”

“At that point I don’t even think that could legally be considered a drink,” Kageyama mused. Teru heard his phone buzz and his hand shot to his pocket. 

Just a spam call.

He put his phone away again, trying to ignore how much he was shaking. God, why did he have to be so weird about this? It was just a phone call.

“Hanazawa-kun? Are you alright?” Kageyama asked.

“Oh, I’m fine, just waiting for a phone call,” Teru tried to say casually. Kageyama didn’t seem to believe him. Before he could press him, Teru spotted the barista putting their drinks on the counter.

“Oh! Our order’s ready!” Teru shouted before he could say anything, shouldering his way to the counter and swiping both their drinks, handing Kageyama his with a smile. To his dismay Kageyama still seemed concerned.

“What’s the phone call about? You seem kind of worried about it,” he said.

“Oh, nothing, just… uh…” Teru knew he couldn’t dodge the question a second time without making it seem more concerning than it actually was. It’s nothing, it’s not important, he shouldn’t be so anxious about it. “Uh, the last time my parents called me was on my birthday last year. So. I thought they might again, this year. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“...Since last year?” Kageyama said. Teru’s heart dropped. Why did he have to say it like that?

“Yeah, I mean, they’re pretty busy,” Teru said, “Hey, wanna go to the river? I saw ducklings there the other day.”

“Oh I, uh, yeah… sure-” Kageyama said.

“Great! Let’s go!” Teru ushered him towards the exit, hoping the conversation would die once they were outside.

–

“...I don’t know if they got a new phone number and didn’t tell me or just stopped checking their voicemail or what,” Teru said. The shining sun reflected off the water through the gaps in the shade of the cherry trees planted along its edge. He leaned on the railing, watching a mother duck coax her ducklings from the shore into the water. It was too nice a day for the conversation he was having. 

Kageyama had barely said a word since he started talking, just…listened. It felt…nice? To be heard? To be understood? To not dedicate all his effort into throwing solutions and backup plans at a problem he didn’t know how to solve?

“I just. I feel like I should have moved on by now,” he said, “I haven’t even seen them in person since I was nine. I’ve adjusted to life without them. But…”

“It still hurts,” Kageyama mumbled gently, leaning against his arm. The two of them looked out over the water in silence for a moment. Teru could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he turned to look at him. 

I guess we’re even now.

He cringed inwardly at the memory of how Kageyama’s face twisted at the comment. Why had he said that? To lighten the mood? Make himself feel less guilty? Maybe the medication they gave him at the hospital had made him delirious? 

He was the first real friend he’d ever had and he felt like, with every word he said, every crossed line or potential misstep, he was closer to losing him.

How do you make someone stay?

–

“You think Reigen-san will be mad we’re late?” Teru asked.

“No, I think he’ll understand,” Kageyama said, looking away in a manner that suggested he was hiding something. Oh god, Reigen probably would be mad at them, wouldn’t he? He had gotten so caught up in talking that he didn’t notice the time. Teru noticed the blinds shut as they approached the building and froze.

“Hanazawa-kun?” Kageyama asked. 

“Sorry, thought I saw something,” he said, eyes narrowed.  It’s probably nothing. Maybe the sun was in their eyes or it got too bright.

As they stepped into the building Teru could feel his suspicions growing. He could see that the room was dark from the hallway. Why would Reigen turn the lights off? He didn’t seem like the kind of person who would just leave without them. Had something happened to him? Kageyama didn’t seem to notice anything was off, sauntering to the door.

“Wait!” Teru said as he reached for the handle. Kageyama looked up, puzzled. “Something feels off.”

“What do you mean?” Kageyama asked.

“The lights are off, and I saw the blinds close when we were outside,” Teru said, “I think someone might be trying to ambush us.”

It was difficult to read the expression that crossed Kageyama’s face as he spoke. He stared at him for a few seconds before responding.

“Well, if something’s in there, we can probably handle it, right?” he said. Teru forced a smile. He knew he meant well, but he didn’t like being humored like this. Kageyama turned the knob and opened the door. The office was dark save for the light pouring in from the hallways. Teru could detect other espers nearby, most of them significantly weaker than himself but-

“Surprise!”

As Kageyama flicked the lights on Reigen, Hoshino, Asashi, Kurosaki, the Shiratori brothers, and Mob’s little brother emerged from the dark. Kageyama turned to him with a fond smile.

“Happy birthday, Teru,” he said.

Teru stood, unable to think of how to react. Reigen motioned to the table by the couch in the corner where a chocolate cake sat adorned with candles.

“I wasn’t sure what flavor you wanted so I made an educated guess,” Reigen said.

Teru tried not to let on how strained his voice was when he spoke.

“It’s perfect.”

–

“So, afternoon next Saturday works?” he asked.

“Yep! Have a nice night, Hanazawa-kun,” Kageyama said. 

Teru looked back at him and gave a small wave as he walked towards his apartment. The building was stiflingly quiet as he stepped in and turned on the lights. As he slipped out of his shoes he looked at the clock. 12 am. One full day of being fifteen.

He didn’t even glance at his phone before getting into bed.

[jamespottersmixtape]

september 16: binge 1,173 words @rosekiller-microfic

It’s their movie night! just rosekiller being in love tbh (ft. Regulus freaking out)

After careful contemplation, in which he heavily weighed the pros and cons of each day of the week, Evan has decided that Saturday is his favourite.

This isn't that surprising—Saturdays are great. No work, no school, no need to wake up early or go to sleep before dawn. Pure unbridled bliss to spend a day however one pleases.

But that isn't why Evan loves them.

No, Evan has become rather fond of Saturdays because for the past year or so since he and Barty started dating, they've made it a goal to host a movie night. Just the two of them.

It started off as a complete accident—Saturday being one of the only days the two were free, unburdened by Evan's university classes and Barty's part-time job. So one night they found themselves sprawled over Evan's couch, watching a movie and eating takeaway because they hadn't felt like leaving the flat. Then the next week found them in a similar position, only at Barty's place, completely by coincidence.

By the third week they realized the pattern and made a truce—every Saturday that they could manage they'd stay at one of their flats, order in, and put on a random movie or show to watch together.

It quickly became a favorite date night for the both of them—choosing to ignore the rest of the world for one night a week and keep each other company. It was more than enough. Soft, tender touches under a blanket and rowdy laughter directed at a particularly shitty movie Barty had picked out. They would always end the night with their limbs tangled together, whether that be on the couch or one of their beds.

Now over a year later Evan still feels the same excitement bubbling in the pit of his stomach as the clock hits 5pm—their official designated start time.

He figures Barty will arrive any minute now and let himself in, so he turns the TV on and grabs some blankets from the closet, setting up the couch as comfortably as he can.

He's in the kitchen looking over menus when he hears the turn of a key and the click of the front door closing. He smiles to himself, soft and hidden, as feet patter across his wooden floors.

A warm presence ghosts along his back as steady arms wrap around his waist. Barty tugs him closer and hooks his chin over Evan's shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

"Hi Ev," Barty mumbles; he sounds tired. Evan knows he went home to see his mother today, a visit that usually leaves Barty drained no matter how much he loves her. He tries his hardest not to be so reserved around Evan; he's definitely gotten better with opening up about his home life, but it can be hard.

Evan has learned to be patient.

"Hi baby," he hums, turning his head and capturing Barty's lips in a kiss. It's sweet, chaste.

He turns around fully so he can run his fingers through Barty's hair, cupping his face with his free hand. "How was today? Your mum's well?"

That's another thing they've worked on: communication. Sometimes just a simple How was your day? or a Can we call later? I miss you, makes all the difference when both of them lead such busy lives. The two of them are far from perfect, but they try their best.

Barty shrugs, but smiles nonetheless. "She's good, not very busy these days. Father wasn't home so we went out for coffee," he wrinkles his nose at the thought of his father, and Evan laughs. He can't say he disagrees with the sentiment.

Barty tugs Evan closer where his hands still rest on his waist. "And what'd you do today? Other than wait for me to grace you with my presence, of course."

Evan rolls his eyes. "Actually I was dreading this. I'd much rather go back to studying like I've been doing for the past 6 hours. It's very fun," he loops his arms around Barty's neck, staring up at him with a devilish grin.

"Oh I'm sure," Barty nods along. "I should make my swift exit then, don't wanna take up too much of your time Mr. University."

"Shut up and kiss me, idiot."

Their lips meet again, warm and slow under the yellow lighting of Evan's small kitchen. It's unhurried, no intention other than re-familiarizing themselves with each other. Still, kissing Barty always makes his entire body light up—fireworks or tingles or electricity; whatever you want to call it—and he shivers from head to toe at the feeling.

God, he's painfully in love with this stupid man.

They pull back, Barty's hand never leaving Evan's hip as they go about chattering aimlessly. They choose a restaurant and Evan forces Barty to call in—pizza, even though Barty complains that his mother sent him home with enough Italian food.

They laugh at nothing as they wait for the food, Barty recounting to Evan how Regulus called him at 8pm the previous night to freak out when he found a ring in James' sock drawer.

Honestly Evan's surprised they're not married with two kids yet. They've been dating for ages, and James looks at him like he built the solar system. It's gross—and also about damn time that man proposes.

The food arrives in record time and they make themselves comfortable, Barty laying half of his body weight on Evan's legs. Not that he's complaining.

Barty chooses a show for them to watch tonight—some random sitcom he's been binge watching the past few weeks—and they settle into a comfortable silence, munching on their food.

"Hey, B?" he asks halfway through the second episode; food long gone and plates piled in the sink. He's wrapped in Barty's arms now, a blanket thrown over the both of them.

The chatter on the TV is low enough that he knows Barty heard him, but he doesn't make a move to acknowledge it.

Evan pokes one of his hands. Nothing.

He sighs, long and drawn out. "Baby."

Predictably, Barty turns his head to face Evan. He looks smug, the bastard, and raises a questioning eyebrow.

"Rosie?"

"Ugh, you're horrible. Why do I tolerate you again?"

Barty smiles, a bright and open gesture that radiates even more warmth under the soft blanket. "Cause you're just as bad as I am," he wraps his arms tighter and noses at Evan's hair.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am n–"

"Watch the show, Ev," Barty interrupts, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

Evan scoffs but resigns himself to sink into the surrounding warmth, the rise and fall of Barty's breathing a comforting lull. The domesticity of it all makes his chest ache.

They go through another episode before Evan begins to feel the effects of sleep taking over, his brain peacefully blank and his eyes struggling to stay open.

"Sleep, Ev. I'll wake you later," he hears Barty whisper lowly next to his ear. Evan smiles, and lets his eyes close.

This, he thinks. This is perfect.

[headfullofpresley]

Paper Rings

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: Your boyfriend surprises you with tickets to a Taylor Swift show. And then some.

Word count: 6,6K

Warning(s): modern!Elvis, kindergarten teacher!Elvis (only mentioned briefly lol but i'm soft), no covid so therefor the Lover Fest tour exists, mentions/appearance of miss Swift herself obv, fluff, use of pet names, smut; oral (m. receiving), vaginal penetration, creampie, unprotected sex, getting caught (kinda??).

Author's note: i hate this now that i've proofread it but oh well :'). enjoy luvvies <3

masterlist

Elvis had been awake since dawn, trying not to have a mental breakdown at the sound of his alarm screeching through the bedroom at the ungodly hour he had set it at the night before. It was his day off from work seeing it was Saturday, but he had a job planned for today that was so much more hellish than having to deal with screaming children at 8 in the morning on a week day.

To the toddlers in his class he was a God, he could actually handle them and they’d hang on to his every word.

But he knew people on the internet were ruthless. Especially when it came down to scoring tickets for Taylor Swift’s newly announced tour. He would much rather be doing anything else, preferred to be covered in paint by dozens of tiny hands and run back and forth whenever the kids in his classroom would call his name every five seconds. Or you know… sleep a few more hours.

But he wasn’t doing this for himself – he was doing it for you, his girlfriend of two years. Your birthday was in three months and when you nearly screamed his ear off when your favorite singer announced her tour, he knew he just had to get these tickets for you. He didn’t tell you about his plans though and made up the excuse that Jerry was celebrating his birthday on the same day Taylor performed in Memphis. Seeing Jerry’s birthday was indeed somewhere in the same month, you didn't question it.

You were pouty about it, but accepted the fact that you wouldn’t be able to see the blonde singer in the flesh this tour. You didn’t have enough money to travel to another city just for a concert, so unfortunately there wasn’t much you could do. You tried to hide your disappointment as much as you could, but Elvis saw right through you, which only made him more determined to get these tickets. He hated seeing you sad, even when you’d try to hide it from him.

He did not have to get up as early as he did since the sale wouldn’t go online until 11, but he was scared that he wouldn’t wake up in time and would have to watch his surprise for you pour down the drain. You had been staying over at your friend’s house last night, so today truly was the perfect day to do this since he knew you probably wouldn’t get home until noon.

You liked sleeping in just as much as he did.

He took a long shower to wake himself up before he fixed himself a quick breakfast, turning on his laptop that was placed on the dining table. There was literally no use to take position for the cold war he was about to step into, but he was nervous. This was the perfect gift for you and he would be damned if he would fail.

How hard could it really be? He was confident enough to admit that he could handle a couple of excited teenagers and twenty somethings over the internet.

But boy, was he wrong.

As the clock creeped closer to 11, he had Ticketmaster open on both his laptop and phone. He made a second account on the website, in hopes that would give him an advantage of getting the tickets he needed.

“What? Are you kidding me?” he mumbled to himself as he got flung right into the waiting queue as the tickets went online, not even giving him a chance to pick the tickets that he wanted. No, that he needed.

He grasped his phone from the table, quickly refreshing the page on it before he clicked on a date that was a few days later than the Memphis show in a nearby city. Once more, he was placed in the queue.

“C’mon, c’mon, please...” he begged at his laptop as he saw how slow the waiting process was going. He was pretty sure a lot of people were in the exact same position he was in right now – he didn’t care, though.

They were only slowing his process down even more.

The urge to refresh the page was big, but he didn’t. He shouldn’t. It would throw him right back at the end of the line. He was growing more impatient and even a little frustrated. He didn’t even listen to Taylor Swift himself other than when you’d blast it through the house and sure, some of her songs were good, but was it really worth waiting in front of a damned computer for this long? He had been sitting here for 20 minutes already.

If it wasn’t for you, he would’ve clicked out long ago.

Hell, he would still be sleeping.

He got up from his seat and grabbed his pack of cigarettes from the corner of the table, wanting to step out onto the balcony of your shared apartment for a smoke until he saw the page on his laptop loading and jumping to the next screen. He sat back down so fast he almost lost his balance, throwing the cigarettes back on the table as he looked at his screen.

“Fuck! No!” he exclaimed in frustration as the website let him know the Memphis show was completely sold out. He ran his hands through his hair as he groaned, flipping his screen off.

God, he looked like an idiot.

“Fuck you, Ticketmaster. Fuckin’ scammin’ assholes,”

He grabbed his phone again, letting out a laugh in disbelief as he saw the Nashville show was sold out as well. His hands were starting to get sweaty, his nerves never fading as he started looking at other dates of the tour. He didn’t care if they were far away, didn’t care about the fact that it would cost him a lot more if he’d buy tickets in a city that was across the country.

His eye landed on a few Los Angeles dates. He must’ve refreshed the page for thirty minutes, not caring that it kept telling him there weren’t any tickets available.

Sold out. Sold out. Sold out.

He still had hope, though. Still praying and wishing, begging to get some good karma back into his life.

He was a good son, a good boyfriend and a good neighbor.

He deserved these tickets.

You deserved these tickets.

He nearly screamed when he saw two tickets pop up for one of the LA shows after refreshing the page for about ten more times. He didn’t even care on what date the show was or that it was 1615 miles away from Memphis.

They were actually good seats, and expensive as hell, but he managed to get them. He figured someone must’ve waited too long before they checked out their purchase and he was glad that he waited.

One man's misery is another man's fortune.

 

Three months had passed and he actually managed to keep the concert a surprise for you. It worked out well, maybe even better, since the show he got tickets for was in the same month as your birthday. He planned to keep you in the dark about seeing Taylor until you’d get to the venue, but he did tell you where you two were going when he mentioned the trip he booked for a long weekend.

He told you it was for your birthday and you couldn’t be more excited. You barely left Memphis, only went to other cities in Tennessee to visit family every now and then, and you had always wanted to go to LA. You had no idea Elvis had more than one surprise up his sleeve.

 

“C’mon, El. We’re in Los Angeles, the city of angels,” you preached to your boyfriend as you stood by the end of the bed, which your boyfriend was currently hogging as he laid in the middle of it, in your hotel room.

“It’s only nine. We’re young, we should be out there and getting drunk!” you pointed at the window, to the bustling city below you, in hopes your point would come across better.

It was Friday night and you wanted to go out and explore the city more since the two of you arrived late last night. You had been out and about all day, but everyone knew big cities were more exciting at night. You had no idea why Elvis was refusing to go out tonight, because he had seemed just as excited about this weekend as you were.

“Baby, I’m tired. My feet are killin’ me,” he lied with a small pout, hoping you’d give in to his cuteness and crawl into bed with him. He opened his arms as he smiled sweetly at you, but you just sighed and crossed your arms as you walked over to the window to look out of it.

Such a drama queen, he thought.

“Tomorrow we’ll go out,” he told you as he kicked the blankets off of him, slipping his arms around your waist as he stood behind you. He leaned his chin on your shoulder, turning his head to kiss your jaw. “I already have a whole day planned for us, but you don’t want to waste sunlight because you have a hangover, do ya?”

You puff out a sigh again and leaned back in his embrace as you nodded. You knew he was right. You wouldn’t go home until Monday afternoon, so you still had enough time to go out and party like you usually barely did. Sundays were better for hangovers, anyways.

“Fine,” you grinned as you turned your head to look at him, stealing a kiss. “What are we doing tomorrow?”

“It’s a surprise, for your birthday. The only thing you need to worry your pretty little head about is what you’ll be wearing,”

“Casual? Formal? I need to knew these things,” you snapped your fingers at him playfully and he laughed as he grabbed your hands and brought them back down.

“Casual… chic?” he suggested with a chuckle, knowing you liked to dress up whenever you went out. “Fancy, but not too fancy. Oh, and don’t wear heels. You’ll be standing and dancing a lot,”

You raised your eyebrows at him, trying to think of what he had planned. Honestly, the only thing you could think of was a club or a bar, or something in that direction. Taylor’s show that was tomorrow never popped into your mind, because you knew it was sold out faster than you could blink.

“I like dancing so I’ll forgive you for tonight,” you joked, looking out of the window again. While you did want to go out and see more of the city right now, you weren’t actually mad at him.

As long as he was with you, you didn’t really care what the two of you were doing or where you were.

“I need a little more convincing. I think you’re still mad,” he grinned against your skin as he kissed his way down to your neck, his hands releasing yours to wander up your stomach and to your chest. You knew the words he spoke were a joke, but his actions were definitely not.

“I thought you were tired?”

He laughed softly as he walked backwards, tugging you along to the bed. He spun you around in his arms and grabbed your chin, grinning down at you.

“Never too tired for this, you know that,” he stole one more kiss before he had you on your back on the soft mattress, hovering above you before you had time to protest.

Not that you were planning to. You never told him ‘no’ and if you did, it was very rare. And getting lost in a sea of sheets with your boyfriend couldn’t compare to the nightlife Los Angeles had to offer.

 

You and Elvis slept until noon the next day, because after getting a noise complaint from the people in the next room, you two decided to raid the mini bar. No major hangovers slowing you down, thank God. You felt better after getting some food in you, not giving Elvis the chance to tell you ‘I told you so’.

“Why do I have to wear that? It’ll ruin my make-up,” you whined as you looked at the sleeping mask that was dangling from his fingertips. You just came out of the restaurant you had an early dinner at, because Elvis insisted you needed to eat enough for tonight’s activity, and you were starting to get nervous.

You could handle the elements of surprises but blindfolded?

Rather not.

“Babe, put ‘em on,” he told you as he took a step closer to you, placing the elastic of the mask over your head before you could protest. You gasped as you widened your eyes at him, trying to grab his hands when he pulled the mask over your eyes but he swatted them away every time. You were sure people were looking at you two as if you were complete idiots, but then again, this was LA. Nobody probably cared.

“Don’t be so stubborn and just follow me,” he whispered in your ear as he wrapped one arm around your shoulder, taking your hand in his. “You trust me, don’t ya, little?”

You shivered at his warm breath tickling at the shell of your ear and sighed softly as he kissed it. You nodded your head, slowly walking forward with his guidance. You did trust him and you doubted this surprise would be anything bad or crazy, so you really had no other choice than to put your faith in his hands.

You were quite proud of yourself for not completely freaking out or losing your shit – after walking for what seemed like forever, you were placed in an Uber with your boyfriend next to you. He was too busy talking to the driver about God knows what and you kept trying to sneak your hand up to the mask to lift it and look out the window to see where you were. Elvis noticed every time though, lacing your fingers together with his, trapping you. You huffed in annoyance, pouting as you sat there in the backseat, feeling like you were being kidnapped.

Which you were, in a way. Only willingly and with lots of reassuring kisses from Elvis.

 

You heart skipped a beat as the car came to a stop, nerves intensifying tenfold when Elvis helped you get out of the car and said his goodbyes to the driver. You weren’t in the right mind to do the same, squeezing his hand which earned you a deep laugh from his side. You felt him move behind you and place his hands on your shoulders, his voice right next to your ear as he spoke.

“You can take ‘em off now, Lover,”

You frowned slightly underneath the mask, thinking the pet name was weird. Formal, almost. He had never in your relationship called you that.

You didn’t need to be told twice though – as you pulled off the mask and blinked a few times to let your eyes get used to the light again, you noticed the huge banner that was plastered on the SoFi Stadium.

Taylor Swift – Lover Fest Tour

You stood there. You stood there and stared without speaking a word.

Now Elvis was getting nervous, afraid that he made a mistake. Afraid that this isn’t what you wanted. He was even starting to doubt if this was your favorite artist at all, despite the amount of records you had at home or the fact that he knew the names of every single one of Taylor’s cats because you wouldn’t shut up about the celebrity.

He even listened to her music on his way to work for the past months so he could remember the lyrics and sing along with you, not wanting to seem like a fool in a sea full of die hard fans.

But when you turned around and he saw the tears in your eyes, his nerves faded away completely. A small huff escaped his mouth as you practically jumped in his arms, squeezing the air out of his lungs with your firm embrace.

“Oh my God, I love you,” you cried in excitement.

“Only because of this?” he grinned teasingly as he looked at you when you pulled back to look at him.

“What? No! I love you, always always always,” you giggled as you grabbed his face, kissing him all over. He grabbed your hands as he laughed, looking at you.

“I love you too, little. You deserve it,” he told you, pecking your lips as he slipped his hands in yours. “You’ve been so busy with work and everythin’, I couldn’t let you miss this,”

“Thank you so much, baby. You’re the best, you know that?” you sighed happily as you squeezed his hands, stealing another kiss. “How did you even manage to get tickets? It was sold out in minutes,”

He grinned as he let go of one of your hands, swinging his arm over your shoulder to take you to the back of the queue. He raised his chin, smug smirk sitting on his face.

“You know, I got my ways,” he looked at you as you laughed, slapping his chest softly before you wrapped your arm around his waist, hugging into his side. “And you just said it, didn’t ya? I’m the best,”

You rolled your eyes, but allowed him to bathe in the size of his ego. As long as it wouldn’t drown him, you thought it was rather attractive.

 

“Y/N, now you’re takin’ it too far,” Elvis told you as his shoulders slumped on purpose as you pointed at a t-shirt at the merch stand. You had just bought one for yourself and Elvis was about to drag you away from the goodies until you spotted the shirts for males. He had already seen them but hoped you wouldn’t.

“Why? You’ll only have to wear it tonight!” you laughed as you wiggled your eyebrows at him, pointing out the shirt to the employee.

“Exactly, a waste of money. Let’s get a drink and find our seats,” he told you but you stopped listening. You took the shirt the girl handed to you and held it in front of him, smiling brightly as it seemed it was the right size. You turned back to the girl as you took your wallet out of your purse and Elvis sighed, knowing that he couldn’t stop you.

As he looked around, his eyes met those of another guy who was obviously here with his girlfriend. The redhead next to him was all dressed up – cat ears and glitter on her face and the whole shebang. Just like him, his girl had him dressed in a tour shirt. A baby pink and blue one.

At least you gave him a white one and you weren’t dressed up like a cat. Could be hot, but not outside of the bedroom.

He gave the guy a sympathetic nod before he turned back to you, taking the shirt you handed to him to pull it over his head.

As long as you were happy, he was too. And right now, you were all smiles as excitement basically oozed out of you. He already forgot about the shirt and didn’t give a damn about what anyone would think, not even Jerry who you were definitely sending the picture that you just took to.

 

You were happy that Elvis told you not to wear heels, because as soon as Taylor appeared on the stage and the show started, you were up and out of your seat to move to the music. Elvis was standing as well, arm hung lazily around your waist as he sipped on his beer, ever the supportive boyfriend.

He didn’t recognize every song but the ones that he did know, he sang along to. It warmed your heart and he could see it made you happy, especially when he’d sing the lyrics of the sweet songs to you.

You were over the moon. There was not a single worry on your mind. No work stress weighed you down and despite this not being the music he listened to, Elvis felt the same. There was something magical about concerts, about an artist connecting with their fans through music. And although some girls were dressed up all silly and too much for his taste, the vibes in the venue were perfect.

He immediately recognized the song Paper Rings and he downed his beer, throwing the empty cup on his seat. You were too occupied with cheering and singing, not noticing he took a small box out of his pocket.

“I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Uh huh, that's right

Darling, you're the one I want, and

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

Uh huh, that's right

Darling, you're the one I want

In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams

Oh, you're the one I want,”

You turned to him to sing the lyrics to him and that’s when you noticed he was down on one knee, the ring sparkling in the lights as he held it out to you in the box. You gasped as you widened your eyes, hiding your mouth behind your hands. His actions caught the eye of the people around you as well and they were all watching in both excitement and anticipation.

You two even caught the attention of Taylor herself, since you were on the second row. Not only did you have a perfect view of her, she had one of you and your boyfriend as well.

She laughed in excitement while she sang, pointing at you and Elvis so everyone would look at you two. You hadn’t noticed the camera that was pointing into your direction as well, or the fact that you were currently on the huge screen, showing your boyfriend’s proposal to the entire stadium.

Elvis wasn’t aware either, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t care if there were thousands of people around them, or just you and him. He loved you more than life itself and had been planning this before he even got the tickets – he knew this would garantuee him a definite yes, though.

He didn’t even have to stay the words, because you were already nodding and screaming your answer. As he slipped the ring around your finger and he stood up to kiss you, he did ask you again. Just because he wanted to hear you say it again.

“Will you marry me, little?”

You cried as you nodded, kissing his lips.

“Yes! Thousand times yes!” you yelled above the music, laughing as you wrapped your arms around his neck to hug him as tight as you possibly could.

“She said yes!” Taylor yelled excitedly into the mic as she looked at you two, clapping her hands. You nearly died as she blew you a kiss and Elvis laughed as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, smiling at Taylor before he attacked your face with kisses.

The rest of the show you and Elvis danced and your heart skipped a beat every time he sang along, his head right next to yours as you were still in his arms. You loved and appreciated him so much and you already had a few ideas of how to properly thank him.

You were ready to leave as soon as the show was over, but before you and Elvis could leave your seats, a blonde middle aged woman approached you two.

You immediately recognized her as Taylor’s mom and almost had a heart attack on the spot, though you had enough self control not to scream in her face. When she asked you two to come backstage because her daughter wanted to meet you, Elvis had to do the talking because you were starstruck.

“We would love to, mrs. Swift,” he smiled politely at her as he held onto your hand, tugging you along to follow her to the backstage area. You could barely speak and Elvis couldn’t stop laughing at you, pulling you into his side to talk in your ear.

“Please don’t scream in her face, baby. Just hold my hand and you’ll be all right, hmm?” he whispered and all you could do was nod, inhaling a deep breath through your nose to blow it back out. It did nothing to calm you down.

The three of you stopped walking as you reached Taylor’s dressing room and once the door opened and the blonde that you had been admiring from the crowd came over to you with her arms wide open, you squeezed Elvis’ hand firmly before you quickly let go and wrapped your arms around Taylor.

The singer was absolutely wonderful to you and your boyfriend. She congratulated you on your engagement, which you were still trying to wrap your head around, and she signed anything you asked her to. She signed Elvis’ shirt as well, which you were definitely going to tease him with later because he seemed rather happy about it.

His music taste was on the complete different spectrum – mostly punk and rock bands that you forgot half of the names of.

The louder, the better, he always said.

But he always accepted your taste just as you did his. Neither of you would mock each other’s music and you freely let him play whatever he wanted through the house. Perhaps it was only something simple, something normal for a couple to not be assholes to each other, but to you and Elvis it was a sort of respect. Music meant a lot to the both of you and just because he didn’t know every Taylor Swift song by heart, didn’t mean he wasn’t secretly excited to meet her face to face.

After talking some more and taking pictures, you and Elvis left the dressing room and got escorted to the exit by Taylor’s mother again. The woman seemed to be trusting of you two, or just busy, because she said goodbye before you and your boyfriend actually left the building.

The backstage area was just as huge as the venue itself and it seemed like your boyfriend had other plans than leaving. He tugged you away from the exit door and laughed softly as he placed a finger against his lips, pulling you along through the long hall ways. You squealed softly as he dipped into a room, taking you right along with him.

It was an empty green room that hadn’t been used you came to realize as Elvis turned on the lights and locked the door from the inside. If anyone had a key, which you were sure everyone that worked here did, they could open the door from the outside. Elvis didn’t give you a chance to unlock the door and walk out, pulling you into his chest as he grabbed your hands.

“Elvis! We can’t do this!” you whispered with a giggle, trying to ignore his hands that were now snaking around your waist and slipping down to squeeze your ass.

“Why? Nobody is here,” he grinned mischievously as he leaned in to kiss your lips. His lips were so plumb and soft that you couldn’t resist him. You never could.

“We don’t live in this city, anyways. What’re they gonna do? Kick us out?”

You wanted to protest once more, tell him that you and him should move this to your hotel room, but the words died on your tongue as he kissed his way down to your neck, sucking on that little sensitive spot underneath your ear. That’s when you turned to putty in his hands and he damn well knew it.

“S-someone.. m-might hear..” you managed to whisper, your words coming out stuttered. His lips and tongue against your warm skin was distracting you too much, so even though you voiced out your worries, you couldn’t get yourself to really care if someone would hear or not.

You were aware that this green room was a risky place to have sex. Especially because the artist that just performed at the stadium was still freaking present somewhere down the hall, but as he lifted you up and put you down on the couch, you were already too far gone. It wasn’t the first time you two fooled around outside the comfort of your own home, but for some reason it felt even more exciting in a place like this.

You were sure the green room had been used for worse things.

Elvis didn’t stop you when you pushed him back and got on your knees in front of him, quick fingers working on his pants. There was a hint of surprise in his eyes though and you didn’t miss it.

“Wanna make you feel good,” you told him in hushed voice, your eyes meeting his as you gave him the sweetest smile you were capable of.

“Oh? And why’s that, huh?”

He already knew the answer, he just loved hearing it.

“I was proposed to and met Taylor fucking Swift in one night,” you grinned at him as you pulled his zipper down, fingertips hooking underneath the elastic of his boxershorts. “And I like the taste of your cock,”

He lifted his hips up a little, allowing you to pull his pants and underwear down to his thighs, groaning softly as you immediately wrapped your hand around him. “Good enough for me,”

You raised an eyebrow at the smirk he wore on his face – so confident and cocky.

Once you brought your hand up to caress your thumb over the head of his cock before you brought it back down again, the cockiness was smacked right off of his face as he parted his lips, a soft moan rolling off his tongue. He tangled his fingers in your hair to keep it out of your face as you took him in your mouth.

Usually, you’d take your time when giving him head but you were aware that you didn’t have all the time in the world and you weren’t leaving this room before he fucked you.

“Shit,” he groaned softly as you looked up at him when you brought your head back up, tongue tracing the most prominent vein on his cock before you lapped it around his sensitive tip. “Do that again,” he told you as his teeth sunk into his lower lip, half lidded eyes watching you as you repeated the action. When you grinned up at him, he let out a moan and threw his head back on the couch.

He tried to be quiet, he really did, but as you got sloppier and sucking him off like it was the last time you’d ever do so, he couldn’t keep his big mouth shut. His hips were bucking up to try and follow your mouth every time you moved up and he threw his arm over his face, biting down on the short sleeve of his shirt.

“Fuckfuckfuck, s-stop,” he gasped as he felt his orgasm nearing, looking down at you as he caressed some hair out of your face when he took his fingers out of it. He was just as eager as you were and while you loved having him come undone in your mouth, you moved fast as you got up and pulled your denim skirt up, slipping your panties down.

“G-God… Hold s-still for a second,” he groaned as you sank down onto him, his hands grabbing your hips to keep you in place so he could get used to being inside of you.

He was sensitive and you were just so tight and warm.

You placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning in to kiss him. He immediately slipped his tongue inside of your mouth, deepening the kiss and you didn’t move until you felt his hands moving down to your ass, squeezing the flesh in his palms. You knew it was one of his signs that he was ready for it.

You moaned into his mouth as you moved onto him, immediately at a steady pace. You were sure your ass would have his hands imprinted on them with how hard he was squeezing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care – the slight sting mixed deliciously with your pleasure.

“F-faster baby,” he whispered as he pulled back from the kiss, leaning back as his hands moved up to your clothed breasts, squeezing them softly through the fabric of your shirt. It didn’t do much for you since you still had another top on underneath the tour shirt you bought together, but you didn’t stop him. Instead you did as he told you and moved faster, moaning shamelessly as you chased your own high.

He moved one hand down in between your bodies, fingertips having no issues with finding your clit as he started rubbing it with skilled movements. He knew just what you liked and knew that this would get you where he wanted you faster – your nails dug into his shoulders as you moaned a little louder, your eyes meeting his.

He gave you a small smile. It looked sweet and innocent, not matching the pace of his fingers and your thrusts at all.

You smiled back at him, moving your hands to his chest and right on top of Taylor’s face that was printed on his shirt.

You didn’t need an extra pair of eyes watching the small sin you were committing.

“I’m close, so close, baby,” you grunted as you clenched your fingers in his shirt, eyes fluttering shut as your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Thighs shaking, walls convulsing erratically around his length.

A smark remark laid heavy on his tongue, something along the lines of you ruining his autographed shirt, but he swallowed the words as he came undone not long after you did. He removed his fingers from your clit and held onto your hips, holding you still as a deep moan escaped his throat, hips stuttering up into you a little.

You ran your fingers through his hair before you collapsed on top of him, both of you catching your breath as he was going soft inside of you.

“I love you, little,” he hummed in your ear as he kissed your cheek and you slowly lifted your head off his shoulder, smiling at him as you caressed the back of his neck with your nails. The way he shivered made you giggle. “I love you more, babe,”

He was only seconds away from protesting, telling you that simply was not possible, but he was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. You both widened your eyes at each other, panic settling in your stomach as you got up as quick as you could. You pulled some tissues out of the box that stood on the small coffee table in front of the couch and cleaned some of his cum that was dripping down your thighs, shoving the tissues to the bottom of the trash can by the door.

“Someone in here?” A deep male’s voice barked from the other side of the door and you and Elvis quickly got decent. Just as you pulled your skirt down and smoothed out your hair, a key was stuck in the keyhole of the door to turn the lock but Elvis swung the door open before the person on the other side could.

A broad shouldered security guy stood in front of you, looking angry as he stared you down. “Passes,” he simply said, holding his hand out.

You grabbed Elvis’ arm and Elvis scratched the back of his head, his other hand feeling his pockets as he gave the guy an awkward smile. He was looking for something neither of you were in possession of and while he had been so confident and careless at the start of this, he was starting to panic now too.

He was pretty sure you could get arrested for something like this. And that was not how he wanted this night to end – although it would make for a funny story to tell your future children and grandchildren.

He had absolutely no idea what to do or what excuse to use, but like an angel fluttering down from Heaven itself, Taylor and entourage walked down the hall way, on their way to leave the stadium. The security guard was currently having a go at you and your boyfriend and you were close to tears until Elvis nudged your arm and nodded his head in Taylor’s direction.

“Is there a problem here?” she asked as she appeared next to the man in front of you, her question aimed more at him than at you and Elvis.

You slipped your hand in Elvis’, sucking in a deep breath of air and keeping it in your lungs. The man didn’t waste time in explaining what happened and how he assumed that you and Elvis had done… something inside the room.

Taylor wasn’t an idiot – she saw the hickey in your neck and the flush on your cheeks. The both of you also completely forgot about the hint of red lipstick that was stained on Elvis’ lips.

“That’s a serious accusation to make, isn’t it? I know these two and I’m positive that the thing you’re accusing them of is simply not true,” the singer spoke confidently as she crossed her arms, smiling as she looked at you. “I’m sure they just lost their way back here,”

You and Elvis widened your eyes, nodding your heads.

“Y-yeah, that’s it. It’s so big back here, we got lost on our way to the exit,”

“Huge place. Very cool, though! You must love your job,” Elvis squeezed your hand firmly to get you to stop talking and you immediately did, pressing your lips into a thin line.

Taylor laughed softly, nodding as the security guard started apologizing, a shade of crimson creeping up his neck.

“It’s alright. Just try not to judge people so quick, hm?” she told him, patting his shoulder as she nodded her head while starting to walk away. You could see her mother laughing softly at the two of you and Elvis quickly pulled you along, following the others out of the venue.

You talked with Taylor for a little bit, apologizing for not leaving the building after you exchanged your first goodbyes but she could only laugh about it.

You probably wouldn’t have survived if she would’ve been angry with you. Elvis was thankful that she was as nice as you always told him – he really was not looking forward to going back to the hotel with his girlfriend being completely inconsolable.

 

“Did you have a good time, beautiful?” Elvis asked as you both sat in the back of an Uber after you both came down from the crazy events of the evening. You leaned into him and looked up, placing a kiss on his chin as you smiled.

“The best, because you were there,” you whispered, sprawling out your fingers that were in his lap. “Anywhere I go with my fiancé is fun,”

He laughed softly as he looked down at your hand, caressing his thumb over the ring he put on you tonight. He couldn’t stop smiling, kissing your temple. “You like the ring?”

“I love it,” you told him as you looked at it, lacing your fingers with his. “But you know I’d marry you with or without a diamond,”

“Even with paper rings?” he grinned and you looked back at him, laughing softly.

You leaned in, softly pressing your lips against his.

“Especially with paper rings,”

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

hey!! can i request marilyn x fem reader smut

reader and marilyn have been together for a while and they love together so it’s not teacher x student

they haven’t seen much of eachother since they’re work schedules over lap and they get the weekend off and reader teases marilyn until she gets punished

Of course! here you go. I hope you like it. I'm sorry if there are some language mistakes.

Saturday Morning

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, strong language, soft spanking, mommy kink, you know, that kind of things..

Word count: 2,177

Summary: You live with Marilyn, but the last week you can barely see each other. Today it's Saturday, and you want to recover your time with her...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes. Requests are open to all of you!

Saturday was always your favorite day of the week. It was a day to enjoy, to rest, and, above all, to spend time with Marilyn. You've hardly seen each other in the last week. Summer was approaching and the exams and evaluations kept the redhead too busy. Your job at the office wasn't helping either. All you did together was to sleep. You tried to watch a movie a couple of times, but you both ended up asleep on the couch. A computer glitch at work meant you had to wake up early, so you couldn't even shower together.

Fortunately, today there was no office, nor Nevermore. It was just her and you, with two days to enjoy yourselves.

You yawned in bed, feeling glad you woke up later than 6 am. You moved to look for your girlfriend between the sheets, but there was only an empty space. Marilyn liked to wake up early and water the plants in silence. She told you that it was one of the few things that managed to relax her, apart from you, of course. You imagined that she was already up, and you moved lazily out of the sheets.

You went to the kitchen, rubbing your eyes. Your girlfriend was there, reading a magazine. The whole house smelled like coffee, it always smelled like coffee, and you loved it. When Marilyn saw you she smiled briefly at you. You returned her smile, moving closer to her, gently grabbing her waist.

“Good morning, Mari…” You whispered, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Good morning, (Y/N)…” she answered you, turning her head, giving you a quick kiss on your lips. “I've made coffee, do you want some?” She asked you.

You rested your head on her shoulder and nodded, looking into infinity. Yawning, you turned away, going to the coffee pot and pouring yourself a cup.

“Oh, shit!” You yelled as you brought the coffee to your lips, it burned.

“I forgot to tell you that it's very hot,” Marilyn told you, amused.

You rolled your eyes and blew on the cup, trying to maintain your dignity.

“Just like me…” You whispered, trying to get the attention of your girlfriend, who was still immersed in that magazine. There was no answer. Normally you used to make love often, but in the last week you felt lucky if you kissed. You put the coffee down on the counter and cleared your throat.

“I said: just like me…”  You repeated. Marilyn looked at you and smiled at you again, but she didn't do anything else.

You huffed and walked over to her again, looking at the magazine she was taking so much interest in.

“Floral decorations for weddings?” You asked, reading the article. “Marilyn...” You sighed exaggeratedly.

“What?” She asked smiling.

“There are still two months left until the wedding…” You said, leaning on the counter, crossing your arms.

“Exactly, there are only two months left for the wedding, and there are still a lot of things to prepare.” She said with a voice of being right.

“I know, I know. But you have to do that right now? We haven't seen each other for almost a week...” You protested in a childish way.

“Yes, I have to do this right now. I have to talk to the restaurant, order the flowers and confirm the guests. There are many things to do. It would do me good if you give me a hand instead of complaining so much.”

You had to restrain yourself from saying something you'd probably regret instantly. It was your free time. You didn't want to spend it arguing.

“Come on, Mari, those things can wait one more day…” You said, almost begging, gently caressing her arm.

The redhead sighed and closed her eyes.

“Okay, you win,” she said, closing the magazine and turning to look at you. “What do you want us to do?”

You smiled triumphantly.

“Well, I don't know…”  You said in a slightly softer tone, approaching her ear.

“Larissa has told me that they have opened a new restaurant next to the market, do you want us to go?” She asked you, ignoring your insinuations. You should be more direct.

“I had thought about staying at home, the two of us alone…” you said with a sexy voice, placing a hand on her leg.

“Is that your great plan for today? Stay at home?” She asked, trying to hide her incipient nervousness.

“Oh, yes,” she said, your hand climbing up her leg.

“(Y/N), I can’t. I have to go out to buy some thing we need,” she said, removing your hand and getting up.

You weren't going to give up so easily, you knew that if you insisted, she would end up falling apart.

“Please… I'm so needy…” you whispered to her, grabbing her waist.

“Well, wait for me to come back,” she said, starting to walk, with you hanging from her.  “(Y/N), come on, let me go.”

“No, I’m not gonna let you go,” you said, joking.

Marilyn huffed and turned around, taking your arms off of her.

“I told you to wait for me to come back, (Y/N),” she said, with a tone that became dangerous little by little.

“But that's a long time,” you insisted, without giving the redhead any respite. You decided to tease her even more and take off the baggy shirt you wore to sleep, showing her your bare chest as you caressed it slowly.

Marilyn tilted her head, looking at the spectacle in front of her. You knew all of her expressions quite well, and that boded well for you.

“What do you want, huh?” she asked. That tone sounded very familiar to you. You were almost certain that you had won again.

“Mmm,” You murmured, continuing to caress yourself.

“Talk, (Y/N),” she told you, approaching slowly.

“I want you to fuck me,” you said, savoring each word, leaning in to kiss her. She put a hand on your chest so you wouldn't get it.

“You still haven't learned how you have to ask for things?” She asked, grabbing your chin.

You bit your lip, and you put on a good girl face.

“I want you to fuck me, mommy,” you said in a childish tone.

“Ah, is that what you want, honey? Are you so desperate that you have to make mommy angry?”

“Very desperate,” you gasped.

“I think what you deserve is a punishment, sweetie,” she told you, grabbing you by your hair, throwing your head back. By now you were too horny to complain. “It's not okay to interrupt mommy when she's doing important things. Good girls are patient, they don't insinuate themselves like whores,” she whispered to you, keeping firmly her grip on your hair.

“I'm sorry…” you said, with a wide smile.

“Are you sorry, honey? I do not think so. I think you love when mommy gets mad at you, that you love when mommy punishes you, is that true?”

“Yes, I love it so much…” You whispered.

Marilyn released you and was thoughtful for a moment. After a while she reacted, grabbing your wrist and dragging you into the bedroom.

Once there, she pushed you roughly towards the bed. You moved to get comfortable, while she surrounded you as if you were a prey that she was about to devour.

The redhead climbed onto the bed, standing next to you, with a serious and threatening look.

“You’ve been a very bad girl, (Y/N)... Now mommy's going to punish you and you're going to behave,” she hissed, running a hand over your bare chest, taking your nipple between her fingers, squeezing it gently. “Get on all fours, my love.”

You nodded profusely and complied.

Marilyn stood behind you, stroking your back gently. You could hear her breathing quicken as well. You felt proud to know her so well.

Without waiting too long she tugged on your underwear, lowering it to your knees. Without warning she gave you a strong spanking. You emitted a small cry of surprise, but you enjoyed the feeling.

“Is it okay to make fun of mommy? Bothering her when she's doing such important things?” She asked you, giving you another spanking, this time a little softer.

And so up to ten.

“Have you learned your lesson yet, (Y/N)?” She asked, gently caressing the painful area of yours. You nodded, excited

“Please, mommy, I've already learned it, I'll be good, please, I need you,” You begged pathetically.

“Not yet, honey. First you have to compensate me for wasting my time,” she told you, pouting, lying on the bed. “Come here and use your mouth like the pathetic whore you are...” Her words were harsh, but you were used to it, and you loved it.

You crawled across the bed, reaching for her legs, which you delicately parted. Not wanting to wait any longer, you lowered her underwear and got ready to do what she had asked of you. You started with soft kisses on her inner thigh and little by little you started moving, but very slowly.

“(Y/N), don't play with me,” Marilyn whispered, bringing her hand to your head, moving you to where you should be.

You smiled and began to kiss that area, gently sucking on her clit, causing the redhead to gasp. Checking that she was enjoying herself, you increased your rite, firmly gripping her legs to keep her at the same position.

“Fuck, (Y/N)…” she gasped, unable to stop moving involuntarily. “Fuck me, honey, use your fingers,” she whispered between moans and moans.

It didn't take long for you to obey, enjoying it almost as much as if you were the one receiving it, while moving your tongue at the same time.

After a few more moans. Marilyn tugged at your hair and let out a ragged moan, telling you that you'd done your job well.

“Very good, (Y/N)... It's been good... Do you think you deserve mommy to fuck you?”

You nodded nervously and lay back on the bed, with a pleading look. Marilyn laughed and moved to be between your legs, beginning to caress you gently.

“So wet for me... You've been waiting for this for so long... Right?”

“For so long.” You sighed, feeling her touch send electricity through your body.

Barely giving you time to start enjoying yourself, she inserted a finger inside you, with overwhelming slowness.

“I want more… Please, mommy,” you begged.

“Patience, honey, remember that you're grounded,” Marilyn said, her voice much softer, enjoying how needy you were.

You felt pleasure, but it wasn't enough.

“Do you want more?” She asked you, amused. “Beg to me.”

“Please, mommy, please, I need you inside of me. I need you to make me yours the way you know. Please...”  You said almost desperately.

Marilyn smiled, satisfied with your words, and inserted another finger into you, moving faster. You could finally feel how long you had been waiting. Your moans were inconspicuous and could almost be considered screaming. You had your eyes closed to be able to delve into your sensations. Suddenly you felt a slap on your cheek.

“Open your eyes, (Y/N). I want to look at you while you writhe under me…” She hissed at you.

You moved, smiling and opened your eyes to look at hers, full of lust and a sense of power over you. Her pace increased considerably, and you could feel how you wouldn't have much left to reach your limit. Marilyn obviously noticed this, and she began to slow down, laughing wickedly. You groaned and moved to try to feel the same as before.

“Poor thing, were you going to cum now, my love?”

You nodded, clutching the sheets tightly in the frustration that washed over you.

“Who did you ask for permission?” She asked you with a childish look, almost completely stopping her movements.

“Please, please…” You gasped.

Marilyn began to move faster. She took pity on you at least.

“You take advantage of the fact that I'm in a good mood… Go ahead, honey, cum for me. And don’t do it quietly, I want to hear you scream,” she whispered to you.

It didn't take much longer. As the redhead resumed her steady rhythm, you began to feel the familiar cramps that made you lose control. You obeyed, yelling loudly as your back arched involuntarily.

When you caught your breath you leaned towards your girlfriend and kissed her in a messy but passionate way. She kissed you back, caressing your cheek gently. After a moment, she relaxed her expression, reverting to the usual sweet redhead.

“Thank you, Mari…” You said, hugging her tenderly.

She smiled at you, placing a kiss on her cheek.

“I'm sorry I haven't been so aware of you this week, I promise I'll do whatever it takes to spend as much time as possible with you…” she told you softly.

“Me too,” you said.

“So you want us to go to that restaurant?” She asked, putting the missing clothes back on.

“Wherever but with you.”

[tyummyz]

🌧️ . . . RAINY DAYS . !! with little!tara

little tara x fem!reader

warnings! : use of y/n (i apologize) , i think that’s it! <3

summary: just some good old fluff about tara and her cg on a rainy day trying to entertain themselves!

divider credits! : @saradika-graphics (i think that’s all!)

a/n! : lowkey might open requests up! also i listened to ‘This is how tomorrow moves’ while making this, unrelated to it but i luv that album <3 also, LOWERCASE INTENDED!!!

welcome the first fic to be posted on tyummyz ‼️

© tyummyz

you wake up to the gentle tapping of rain on the window of your home, tara was pressed against your side in a light sleep. you check your phone, the background a picture of tara with a large, white teddy bear in her hands. that picture alone makes you smile from ear to ear, the memory vividly fills your mind: tara had been super stressed and exhausted that day, so what does her loving caregiver do? take her to a tiny store down the block and let her small mind pick out whatever she’d like.

“what time is it—?” a raspy voice snaps you out of your thoughts. tara was slowly sitting up and rubbing her eyes, you couldn’t help but chuckle at her messy, black hair.

“it’s…9:36. why?” you reply, putting your phone down.

“on a saturday? dude— waking up early after a night of refusing to go out feels odd.” tara yawned, stretching her arms out.

“for you? yes. for me? no.” you laughed. you were pretty used to waking up early for stuff — not like you enjoyed it, but you were used to it.

“ha-ha. very funny, y/n..” tara joked and she got out of bed, stopping and frowning when she saw the rain. tara hated the rain — it completely threw off her vibe, cute outfits ruined by the cold, wet rain. her regressed self hated it even more, no walks with sugar, no playing outside with sugar, no drawing with chalk — no anything!

“what?” you asked, noticing her looking out the window with a saddened expression.

“it’s raining!”

“so?”

“so? so we can’t do anything!” tara huffed, flopping backwards onto the bed. sugar’s paws pittered on the floor as he jumped onto the bed and laid down on tara’s stomach. she giggled and began to pet sugar, feeling a bit better with him here.

“i’m sure we can do stuff!”

“i guess…” tara mumbled.

“you seem down— like- about something other than the rain.” you noticed — of course you did. you noticed everything with tara, a very important factor of yourself that tara loved and also hated.

“i’m just so bummed that it’s raining! and…I’m still tired from yesterday.” tara said — her mind reminded hee of the stress from yesterday, her brain automatically started feeling fuzzy.

for context, tara had so much editing to catch up on — plus, her computer wasn’t working and she thought she lost the footage for a split second, causing panic and stress about everything. to top it all off, she couldn’t regress at all that day!

you reached over and played with tara’s hair.

“tar, just take deep breaths and remember that i’m right here! we don’t need to stress about stuff today, even if it’s hard.”

“i know…t’anks…” tara softly smiled, her voice already giving away that she was slipping into that 4-year-old headspace of hers.

you smiled and got up, sugar followed you which made tara whine in protest, but that whine bursted into giggles as you picked her up.

“put ‘e down!!” she squealed through giggles, she grabbed onto you as you carried her downstairs into the living room. you plopped her down onto the leather couch, she let out a small ‘oof!’ followed by more giggles. you made it your mission to make this the little’s best rainy day she’d ever had, which wouldn’t be hard since all of them were horrible to tara.

fast forward to about an hour later, you were standing behind tara, who was sitting on a stool munching on some fruit snacks that you’d bought her a few days ago. you finished putting her hair into two pigtails, finishing it off with some purple bows, you smiled and placed your hands on her shoulders.

“all done pretty girl!” your voice cheerily spoke as tara giggled and demanded a mirror. once she ran to the bathroom and looked, she squealed and jumped up and down, yapping many ‘t’ank you mama!!’ ‘s.

the two of you turned on rapunzel, grabbing some coloring books and spreading them out on the wooden coffee table in front of the couch. tara began coloring and singing along to the songs.

“mama! mama! wan’ my hair that long!” she smiled and pointed to rapunzel, causing you to laugh.

“wow! maybe one day, sweet girl!” you replied, twirling one of her pigtails around your finger. the rain hadn’t let up, but with your presence, tara had forgotten it was even there. tara soon let out a yawn and crawled up beside you, calling out

“sug’a! come!” she patted the couch and sugar let out a huff as he jumped up and laid beside tara, making her giggle.

“are you tired sweet girl?” you raised a brow and put an arm around her.

“no! no’ tired…” tara blinked, her eyes slowly closing as she leaned her head onto you and attempted to watch her movie. but soon enough, the smaller girl fell asleep, her soft breaths syncing with sugar’s small snores. you pulled out your phone, taking a picture of them, declaring that your mission to make tara happy was a success.

[artikgato]

8/27/2023

It happened again! The cute little brown bunny hopped into my path as I was walking. This time it stopped for a few seconds and watched me before hopping off of the sidewalk and into the grass, but then it stopped a few feet away from the tree line and sat for a few more seconds, long enough for me to almost get a picture of it, before darting off into the woods. At first there wasn't a Bunnelby when I checked Pokémon Go, but then a few seconds later one popped up... and in almost the same spot the bunny had been in before it hopped onto the sidewalk.

Quite interesting that this has happened for a third time, and this time the bunny didn't run away immediately. If this was in a book or a movie I wonder what the symbolism of it would be. Is this a warning, that I am like a prey animal and I need to be cautious? Is this a sign that things are changing for the better, since the bunny was a little more relaxed this time? Who knows.

Anyway the bunny aside, it was a pretty standard walk. It was slightly cooler this morning because it rained last night. I encountered someone else walking along the street going the opposite direction while I was in the residential area, and I encountered the same guy coming out of the retirement community toward The Road while I was going along there. It did startle me a little bit both times, but clearly I am alright so nothing happened. There was more traffic than I expected for a Sunday morning, to the point where I had to check to make sure it wasn't somehow Saturday again or I hadn't accidentally skipped forward to Monday.

I started walking with the Larvesta today. We'll see how that goes. Despite being at work all day I did manage to participate a bit in the Go Fest activities yesterday and I caught a bunch of shinies. I finally got my hands on a Pawniard for the first time yesterday, which was exciting, only for the second one I caught to be a shiny! I also got a shiny cowboy hat Snorlax, whom I love and will cherish for the rest of my days. Hopefully today I can pick up some more shinies.

From now until the end of September things should be pretty standard. Aside from a mostly unplanned excursion go Dragoncon, I don't have plans to go anywhere or do anything since everything is happening in October and November. Perhaps a random day trip to hang out with people or go do something will happen, but for now I think I need to really focus on getting plushies and other things ready to sell at the artist tables I have booked, and I really want to work on my novel, too. Ideally I'd love to finish the first draft by the end of November, so I can edit it and try to get it published next year. I started writing it in 2014, so it would only be fitting!

Tomorrow it'll be three weeks since I started doing this waking up at 5am and doing the mental health jogwalk. It doesn't feel like three weeks have gone by at all. I think because I'm waking up early it's making the days feel longer, so this three weeks has felt both very long and also very short. Time is a weird soup.Anyway, it's time to get back to work!

Word count: 585 Weather: 73, sunny Humidity: 95% Time: 23:27 Song of the Day: Toxic, Britney Spears