#it just filled me with so much warmth and joy and adoration that I’m still on a high from it really

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[kingofbodyrolls]

Say I Do (m) | jjk

Summary: you and Jungkook tease each other at your wedding reception.

Pairing: jungkook x female reader (no Y/N and unnamed)

AUs: non-idol!au, wedding!au

Genres: smut– like it’s just smut, nothing else 🤣

Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

Word count: 5,2k

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Warnings/tag: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, handjob, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, slightly rough sex, choking, biting, spitting, ass grabbing, impreg kink, degrading names (whore used once).

Author’s note: I made this for my lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7)!!!! SURPRISE!!!! I hope you like it! I was inspired to make this because of our chat, and I just want to say that you are so fucking lovely, sweet and kind 💖 I really hope this isn’t too much, but I just had too 🥹 I really wanted to make it dirty, but it ended up being more sweet instead, I’m sorry! I love talking to you and I just wanted to let you know that I adore and treasure you 😘 

Honestly Lua, I just wrote this to tell you how beautiful you are– mind, body and soul. Thank you Lua, I love ya 💜

This is just something very short while I work on ‘My Heart’s Home’. But I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think: my inbox is always open, and I love to hear from you, even a reblog/comment will put a big smile on my face 💜

Also!!! This is written from Jungkook’s POV (well I tried, lol). And normally I don’t describe the reader/MC, but she does have a tiny bit description in this, but I still feel it’s vague enough. But if that isn’t your thing, it’s completely fine 🙂 This is not proofread (because I’m too lazy for that right now).

This has nothing to do with my other fic 'say that again (I dare you)', but if you want to read that I'm not opposed (it's also a jjk fic) ✨

Fancy reading on AO3? 😉 

Rising gracefully to his feet, Taehyung's infectious enthusiasm fills the room as he declares, “I propose a toast!” His radiant smile sweeps over the myriad of guests you meticulously invited to your wedding—more than a hundred souls sharing in the joy of your love story. 

As he prepares to speak, Jungkook can't help but marvel at the grandeur of the occasion. Despite his personal inclination towards a more intimate celebration, he wouldn't dream of denying you this moment, surrounded by the warmth of friends and family who have come together to witness the union of two hearts.

Despite Taehyung's earnest attempt to capture Jungkook's attention with a throat-clearing preamble, Jungkook finds himself inexplicably entranced elsewhere. Even in the midst of one of his closest friends delivering a heartfelt wedding speech—something he should be wholeheartedly absorbing—but it’s hard. As hard as his dick that you’re palming over his dress pants.

The tantalizing dance of your hand sends ripples of pleasure through him, an intoxicating distraction that eclipses all other thoughts. It's an artful symphony of sensation, each movement crafting a masterpiece of desire within him. The struggle to concentrate on anything else becomes an exhilarating battle. Fuck. 

You, the mischievous enchantress, wield your allure like a potent spell. 

A tantalizing awareness of your own danger courses through your veins, and you wield it with an expert finesse. Every knowing glance, every sly smile, is a calculated move in the game you effortlessly play. You've mastered the art of ensnaring him, wrapping him around your finger with a magnetic force that compels him to dance to your whims. It's a dangerous dance, but he willingly succumbs to the intoxication of your charm, embracing the thrill as much as he cherishes the intoxicating love he feels for you.

What the fuck is Taehyung saying?

Taehyung’s words dissolve into a meaningless buzz, drowned out by the illicit symphony you're orchestrating beneath the table. The audacious zipper sliding down and the tantalizing exploration of your hand over the fabric of his boxer briefs command all of Jungkook's attention.

Profanity trembles on the edge of his tongue, but it's lost in the overwhelming sensation that eclipses any coherent thought. Your stealthy touch renders him blissfully oblivious to everything else unfolding around him.

Suppressing a low, guttural sound, he clenches his teeth, using every ounce of willpower to stifle the moan building in his throat. As desire courses through him like a wildfire, he willingly parts his legs, a silent invitation for you to explore more boldly, granting ample space for the electrifying touch of your hand over the hardened length of his cock.

He marvels at your audacity, finding it both exhilarating and daring that you'd embark on such a provocative escapade during your wedding reception. Yet, deep down, he acknowledges that it's a reflection of the wild spirit that has always defined your relationship. It's a shared affinity for dancing on the edge, reveling in the allure of danger, and delighting in the thrill of engaging in activities that should, by all accounts, remain private. It's a facet of your relationship that has always been magnetic, drawing you both into a world where the risk of being caught only adds to the intoxicating excitement.

In the blink of an eye, your hand deftly maneuvers beneath the fabric of his boxers, sending a shiver down his spine. A hiss escapes his lips as your long, slender fingers confidently envelop his cock. The warmth of your touch is both a balm and an inferno, and he instinctively tilts his head back in the chair, a silent plea for discretion. 

As he surrenders to the delicious sensation, he can't help but cast a furtive glance around, fervently hoping that the clandestine ballet unfolding beneath the table remains a tantalizing secret shared only between you.

Despite the uproarious laughter echoing through the room in response to Taehyung's speech, Jungkook remains oblivious to its contents, ensnared the choreography of your hand beneath the table. 

The mirthful ambiance only fuels his curiosity, surmising that Taehyung must have delivered a punchline or shared a humorous anecdote. Meanwhile, beneath the table's concealment, your hand skillfully traces a tantalizing path along his hardened cock, drawing a hushed hiss from Jungkook's lips. 

With a steely resolve, he masks any trace of emotion, locking his features in a stoic facade and maintaining an impressive silence. His determined effort is not just to conceal the electrifying sensations your actions are evoking, but also to safeguard the clandestine intimacy you both share from the prying eyes of the unsuspecting guests. 

Every fiber of his being is a coiled spring, resisting the urge to yield to the pleasure that threatens to unravel beneath the veneer of his restrained expression. 

As his gaze shifts towards you, he's met with an unexpected sight—there you sit, an image of demure elegance in your exquisite white gown. 

The fabric caresses your curves in all the right places, accentuating the allure of your figure. The daringly low neckline teases a glimpse of the captivating silhouette of your bosom, leaving him momentarily breathless. The off-the-shoulder design unveils a generous expanse of your soft, tender skin, a tantalizing sight that aligns perfectly with his preferences. 

Despite the provocative allure of your attire, your outward appearance betrays no hint of the illicit affair transpiring beneath the table. If he didn't intimately know the secret you were concealing—your hand discreetly exploring the realm beneath his pants—he'd be fooled by the serene facade you present, seemingly absorbed in the captivating rhythm of Taehyung's speech.

In a silent plea of gratitude, Jungkook revels in the fact that the attention of the guests is fixed on Taehyung's speech, sparing him the scrutiny of prying eyes. 

Little do they know, the real spectacle unfolds beneath the table, where your touch becomes an exquisite torment. 

Every movement of your hand is a tantalizing dance, a blend of ecstasy and torture that threatens to unravel him. With a teasing finesse, your soft fingers caress his frenulum, tracing a path towards the depths of pleasure. The deliberate slide over his slit elicits a shiver of pure ecstasy, leaving Jungkook teetering on the precipice of desire that you expertly navigate.

Your hand envelops him, a cocoon of warmth that intensifies with each skillful stroke. The pleasure coursing through him is undeniably exquisite, a testament to the mastery of your touch. Yet, a lingering awareness tugs at the edges of his consciousness—an impending climax that threatens to unravel the careful threads of restraint. The exquisite sensations you evoke compel him to desperately anchor his thoughts, to redirect the intoxicating focus from the captivating dance beneath the table to Taehyung's speech.

The challenge lies not just in resisting the magnetic pull of pleasure but in maintaining a semblance of composure, navigating the delicate balance between the ecstasy you're orchestrating beneath the table and the public façade demanded by the occasion.

“We’ve been friends for so long, how many years is it now, Gguk?” As Taehyung poses the question, a hushed anticipation envelops the room, and all eyes converge on Jungkook. 

Fuck. 

All eyes are on him and he can’t think— he’s mind is clouded with thoughts of you. 

Taehyung– Fuck. How long have they been friends? 

In a sudden stumble of recollection, he breathes out, “17 years,” the weight of the shared history resonating in the room. Yet, the gravity of the moment is unexpectedly intensified as you administer an assertive squeeze around cock. Fuck.

With a chuckle that slices through the tension, Taehyung seamlessly continues his discourse, effortlessly reclaiming the attention of the room and redirecting every wandering gaze back to him. A collective exhale echoes in Jungkook's mind, a silent gratitude for the timely diversion that spares the clandestine spectacle beneath the table from becoming the unwitting center of attention. 

Relentless, you maintain the rhythm on his dick, displaying an unwavering determination that hints at an intention to push him to the brink, right under the unsuspecting gaze of the gathered guests. 

As the divine caress of your hand propels him perilously close to the edge, a surge of urgency overtakes him. Desperate, he turns his face towards you, eyes silently pleading for respite, but your gaze remains steadfastly elsewhere. 

Frustration wells within him, and he attempts to use his hands to guide yours away, only to find your grip tightening in response. The conflicting forces of pleasure and restraint collide within him, his muscles tensing as a hitch in his breath betrays the precarious precipice upon which he teeters.

Leaning in, you bring with you a halo of your natural sweet scent, an intoxicating allure that wraps around him, overwhelming his senses and leaving him slightly dizzy. 

Your lips, soft and plush, delicately find his cheek in what appears to be a tender gesture to the outside world. To the unsuspecting onlookers, it's a simple, sweet kiss on the cheek. 

Little do they know, in that same moment, your daring move involves not just the gentle press of your lips but the subtle exploration of your other hand slipping under his boxers to fondle his balls.

Fucking hell he’s gonna come.

Ecstasy courses through him like a wildfire, an imminent eruption fueled by the intoxicating cocktail of your skillful touch on his balls, warm breath teasing his ear, and the relentless grip on his pulsating desire. The threshold between pleasure and release narrows to a perilous edge, and he finds himself teetering on the brink, held captive by the maddening symphony of sensations you've orchestrated. 

Despite his valiant efforts to remain attentive to his friend's speech, the sheer mastery of your pleasure-inducing touch proves insurmountable. Every deliberate stroke, every strategic squeeze of his balls, propels him further into the abyss of ecstasy. In a moment of surrender, he can no longer contain the torrent of desire, and ropes of his essence surge forth from his throbbing dick. His lips bear the weight of a stifled moan, as you keep stroking him through his orgasm.

Beside him, your chuckle is a symphony of sweetness interwoven with a hint of mischief, a melodic backdrop to the ongoing crescendo of pleasure you expertly administer through his orgasm. 

As he traverses the realm of oversensitivity, a low, guttural grunt escapes him, drawing the curious gaze of Taehyung, engrossed in his ongoing speech. Though momentarily caught in a gaze of questioning inquiry, Taehyung forges ahead, resuming his speech with a peculiar stare, unwittingly oblivious to the spectacle unfolding beside him.

Thank fuck both of your parents aren’t seated right next to you. That would have been utterly mortifying and embarrassing.

With a deliberate finesse, you retract your hand from his crotch, guiding it gracefully over the table, where you nonchalantly employ a napkin to erase any lingering evidence. Seated there, you adopt an innocent facade, a picture of angelic composure that conceals the fact that, mere seconds ago, your hand delved into the forbidden realm beneath his pants. 

With an audible exhale, he reaches for a napkin, hastily attending to the aftermath on his pants. The damage is fortunately minimal, thanks to your deft intervention that efficiently captured most of his release. Smart girl.

But a mischievous spark ignites in his eyes, a silent vow echoing beneath the surface - oh, he's going to get back at you for that, you little minx. 

–

As the notes of the classic wedding waltz envelop the room, Jungkook marvels at the surreal reality—he gets to call you his wife now. The ethereal glow surrounding you transcends the physical, a radiant aura that has always defined you. Despite your humble protestations about your own beauty, he's captivated by the undeniable truth: you've always been, and continue to be, an enchanting vision. Countless times you've confessed to feeling otherwise, but in his eyes, you're a masterpiece. In this moment, as you dance together, you're not just a part of his world; you are his entire universe.

Gazing into the pools of your sweet, doe-like eyes, their exquisite almond shape captivates him, holding his attention in an unbreakable trance. He contemplates the nuances of your beauty, from the enchanting curvature of your slightly upturned nose to the endearing moments when he can't resist playfully poking it during your teasing exchanges. Every inch of you, in his eyes, is a masterpiece, and he pledges to vocalize his admiration every day, a ritual aimed at etching your beauty into your own consciousness. 

He dreams that with each affirming word, he'll weave a tapestry of self-love around you, until the day you see yourself as he does—undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.

As you dance, your eyes ablaze with an unmistakable love, he luxuriates in the intensity of your gaze. A daring current of desire propels his hand, gliding with deliberate intent down your body until it boldly claims your ass. 

Uninhibited, he seizes it with audacious confidence, the bold move oblivious to the watchful eyes surrounding you. A soft, mischievous squeeze elicits a sweet chuckle from you, a harmonious note in the symphony of shared amusement that reverberates through the party, as the crowd collectively succumbs to the captivating allure of your uninhibited dance.

As the soft strains of the music envelop you both in a waltz, your heads draw nearer, the enchanting melody echoing the tender dance of your hearts. With the song nearing its end, he seizes the moment, leaning in intimately close to your ear. The hushed promise that escapes his lips carries a tantalizing undercurrent, his warm breath grazing your skin as he vows, “I'm going to get you back for earlier, babe.”

He senses the subtle shiver coursing through you as his touch lingers, a silent testament to the shared electricity between you. As the final notes of the song fade into the applause and cheers of the crowd, seizing the perfect moment, he leans in, embracing you in a sweet and passionate kiss. 

As the rhythm of a more upbeat song invigorates the dance floor, he seizes the opportunity to whisk you away from the lively crowd. Amidst the pulsating beats and the vivacious laughter of the guests, he guides you outside the building, their merriment gradually fading into the background.

In the crisp night air, he asserts a sudden dominance, pressing you against the sturdy wall. His gaze, infused with an unmistakable hunger and need, locks onto your beautiful eyes, creating a magnetic tension that reverberates between you. 

“You are a little minx, you know that?” His words, not laced with anger but rather a dangerous undercurrent of arousal, hang in the charged air. Your chuckle, a sweet symphony that further stirs the tempest within him, prompts a hiss as he succumbs to the magnetic pull, diving fervently into the captivating abyss of your mouth.

The kiss intensifies, a collision of passion that is both hard and rough, fueled by an undeniable need. In the urgency of the moment, he can't afford to wait, the impatience palpable in every fervent press of lips. 

You envelop him in the embrace of your arms, fingers intertwining at the nape of his neck, while your gaze rises to meet his. In the depths of his eyes, once warm brown orbs now transformed into pools of near-black intensity, a reflection of the potent arousal coursing through his veins. 

Your hand embarks on a daring journey, descending to the front of his pants once more, and the response is instantaneous – hardness reignites, a testament to the insatiable flame you kindle within him. Desire for you pulses like a constant current, an almost permanent state of arousal that defies logical explanation. Whatever enchantment you cast upon him, it's an irresistible force that weaves a tantalizing spell, leaving him perpetually captivated by the mystique of your touch.

Breaking away from the embrace of your soft lips, he wears a smirk laden with both warning and allure. “You're playing with fire, babe,” he remarks, the subtle edge in his voice echoing the intoxicating dance of danger and desire that swirls between you.

In a hushed whisper that flutters against your ear, he breathes, “You've been a naughty girl.” 

The words, laden with an undercurrent of sultry authority, send a shiver down your spine, awakening a cascade of tingles that traverse the landscape of your entire body. 

Descending to the delicate expanse of your neck, he peppers it with soft, almost teasing kisses, each touch a prelude to the symphony of sensations. Then, in an abrupt shift from gentle caresses, he bites down, coaxing from you a loud moan that resonates through the air—an intoxicating sound that echoes in the depths of his desire, a melody he'll never tire of hearing. 

Continuing his explorative journey, he ventures further south, his lips descending to the curve of your breasts. With a deliberate tenderness, he places a kiss atop the soft expanse of your tender tits.

Gracefully sinking to his knees, he gazes up at you with a mischievous smirk, the air thick with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. His tongue darts out, grazing his lips in a provocative dance of anticipation, signaling the imminent exploration of pleasures yet to unfold. 

With an assertive grip, he seizes the front of your dress, drawing it away in a swift, purposeful motion. Despite the abundance of fabric, he deftly bunches it up with ease. “Hold your dress, please,” he directs, handing you the end of the gathered fabric. 

“Hmm. Nice lace stockings, and that girdle—what are you doing to me?” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing blend of desire and fascination. His gaze lingers appreciatively on your beautiful thighs encased in nude stockings adorned with lace at the top, fastened to a concealed girdle on your waist.

His eyes widen with a mix of surprise and arousal as they land on your wet and glistening pussy, the evidence of desire trickling down your thigh. “Oh my god. You're not wearing panties?” he breathes out, his voice carrying the weight of both revelation and anticipation. A subtle lick of his lips betrays the intensity of his reaction.

A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you hover above him, and without a moment's hesitation, he immerses himself in the intoxicating warmth of your desire. His lips eagerly find their destination, tracing a decadent path from the delicate folds to the pulsating essence of your clit. 

The sensation ripples through your body, igniting a shiver that becomes an involuntary response to the electrifying dance between tongues, pleasure, and the shared yearning that binds you together.

He embarks on a tantalizing journey of tongue and suction, starting with teasing caresses that send tremors of anticipation through your body. His hands, strong and purposeful, find purchase on your thighs, holding you in a firm grip as he orchestrates a symphony of pleasure with his skillful tongue, creating an intoxicating dance that blurs the lines between sensation and desire.

A throaty moan escapes your lips as his nose delicately brushes against your pulsating cl*t, his tongue delving as deep as its voracious hunger allows. The exquisite sensation of his exploration elicits an involuntary clenching around him, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

Your thighs, unable to withstand the intensity, succumb to a tremor, trembling beneath the intoxicating caress of pleasure that consumes you.

His dexterous fingers ascend to your throbbing clit, and with a skillful touch, he sets in motion a rapid dance of pleasure, causing your entire body to quiver with newfound intensity. The quickened rhythm of your breath becomes a symphony of desire, a telltale sign for him that you're teetering on the precipice of ecstasy.

Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you bestowed upon him within the confines of the reception, he fervently laps at your tender folds. Simultaneously, his fingers engage in a deft dance around your throbbing clit, orchestrating a symphony of sensations that echoes the pulsating rhythm of desire between you.

With the harmonious fusion of his skilled tongue and nimble fingers, he orchestrates the unraveling of your senses. As ecstasy courses through you, your body convulses in euphoria, your walls clenching around his tongue, and the pulsating rhythm of your clit intensifying under the spell of his fingers. 

Waves of pleasure surge through you, causing your body to quake, and in the throes of ecstasy, you release a high-pitched, strained moan that bears his name—an intimate symphony of pleasure that lingers in the air.

Breathless and overwhelmed, you gasp out his name, a plea woven into the words, “Fuck, Jungkook. I can't stand up anymore.” As he gracefully withdraws from your core, his gaze rises to meet yours, locking in a shared moment of intensity.

He chuckles, the rich timbre of his laughter lingering in the charged air. “I know, babe. Do you want me to fuck you against the wall?”

You draw in a sharp breath, and he keenly observes the subtle clench of your hand, the fabric of the dress tightly gathered within your grasp. 

“Fuck yeah,” An unbridled affirmation escapes your lips, a primal declaration of desire. As he rises to his feet, a surge of urgency propels him to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. The taste of your own release lingers on his lips, creating an intimate communion of shared pleasure that binds you together in the aftermath of passion.

As he engulfs you in a fervent kiss, the symphony of desire playing out between you, his hands deftly navigate the zipper of his dress pants. With a purposeful movement, he unveils his throbbing cock, stroking it in rhythmic cadence. 

His hands, driven by a primal urgency, seek out the contours of your a*s with a possessive intent. “Jump up, babe,” he commands, the resonance of his voice weaving a spell of anticipation. As you obediently jump, he effortlessly lifts you, cocooning you against the wall. 

In a brief struggle against the bulk of your dress, both of you grapple with the fabric, pushing it away from the front of your entwined bodies. A shared chuckle hangs in the air, a lighthearted interlude in the midst of fervor. But as the fabric yields to your efforts, Jungkook seizes the opportunity, moving in with an insatiable hunger to bite at your neck once more. 

With a sultry whisper, he breathes, “I'm gonna fuck a baby into you, would you like that, hmm?” 

The words, pregnant with promise, glide against your ear, and the responsive clench of your legs around his waist speaks volumes. A knowing chuckle escapes him as you endeavor to pull him even closer, the shared desire resonating between you in the charged space.

“Please,” your plea, a desperate yet fervent entreaty, escapes your lips, a poignant melody of desire that resonates in the charged air. The subtle smirk that graces his lips is both a testament to your undeniable need for him and an acknowledgment of the power he holds over your cravings.

With a deliberate touch, he locates his throbbing cock with one hand and skillfully aligns it with your dripping entrance. The tantalizing dance begins as he teases your slick folds with the head of his pulsating dick, creating an electrifying friction that amplifies the anticipation between you two. 

“Gguk, please,” you plead with a mixture of desire and frustration, your voice echoing the urgent need for him to bridge the gap between anticipation and fulfillment. However, he remains steadfast, skillfully teasing your slick folds without granting the entry your body craves. 

With a desperate plea escaping your lips once more, he finally relents. The moment stretches with anticipation before he forcefully thrusts his thick cock into your eager pussy. The collision is met with an audible impact as your back forcefully meets the wall.

He forgoes the customary pause for adjustment, intuitively aware that you relish the exquisite stretch when he enters you so abruptly. Without hesitation, he plunges deep into your core, reaching the furthest recesses, his thick length grazing against your cervix. 

“You’re so big, the stretch feels so good!” 

You gasp breathlessly against his body, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. The intoxicating stretch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, a visceral reminder of the intensity between you two. Determined to fully immerse yourself in the sensation, you pant against him, actively striving to ride the wave of pleasure, desperate to fuck yourself on him, the relentless pursuit of ecstasy evident in every ardent movement.

He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a force that resonates against the unyielding wall of the building. The symphony of your combined panting echoes in the air, a melodic accompaniment to the unbridled passion unfolding. Jungkook, captivated by the primal symphony, savors every delightful noise escaping your lips—a harmonious blend of desire and surrender, heightening the intensity of the fervent connection shared between you.

As he thrusts into you, each powerful motion striking your cervix, he elevates the intensity by trailing one hand up to your neck. With a gentle yet possessive touch, he wraps his fingers around your throat.

He knows you like it dirty and rough, and fuck he does too. 

His taunting words, laced with a playful yet provocative tone, cut through the charged air. “Did you enjoy the little game with your fingers down my pants while Tae was making his speech?” The rhetorical question hangs between you, a teasing challenge that elicits a subtle clenching reaction around him. 

In a sultry revelation, he whispers, “'Next to your bridesmaid and your parents. You naughty girl.” The hand steadying against the wall takes a firm hold of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with deliberate intent. A resonant moan of pleasure escapes your lips, harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of his thrusts as he skillfully targets your sweet spot. 

“So naughty,” he breathes, punctuating each fervent thrust with a rhythmic intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You enjoy getting off in front of your friends, huh?” His words, infused with a seductive blend of desire and provocation, become a tantalizing soundtrack to the relentless grind of his dick into you.

“And getting me off too? Whore,” he seethes into your ear, the heated accusation leaving a scorching trail of desire in its wake. Your response, a shiver against his body, fuels the intensity of the moment. 

As he continues to fuck you with an unrestrained force, your breasts bounce in a mesmerizing rhythm that captivates him. So fucking perfect.

“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, his eyes intently fixed on you as you obediently roll out your tongue, anticipating the act you relish. The charged moment lingers, pregnant with expectation. With a deliberate move, he spits on your waiting tongue, and you, the embodiment of submission, dutifully swallow it.

Damn it, he knows he won't last much longer if he continues to be entranced by the rhythmic bounce of your enticing breasts—they possess an almost hypnotic allure over him. And that tongue of yours, oh, it's pure seduction. 

“And you can't even wait until we reach our hotel suite to be fucked. So fucking needy, and I love it,” he declares, a blend of admiration and desire lacing his words. The deliberate clench of his fingers around your throat follows, a subtle yet potent assertion of control. His gaze remains fixed on your eyes, watching with a predatory intensity as they dilate even more.

As he tightens his grip, the sensation of his fingers constricting around your throat elicits a primal response—your walls clenching around his cock. The synchronized symphony of pleasure and control intertwines, and a guttural groan escapes him, an audible testament to the ecstasy coursing through his veins. 

Driven by an insatiable desire, he redoubles his efforts to fuck you even deeper.

“My filthy wife,” he pants into your ear, the possessive term dripping with desire, a declaration that ignites a primal response within you. The sultry proclamation elicits a moan of his name from your lips, a vocal affirmation of the all-encompassing pleasure coursing through your body. His acute awareness of your nearing climax manifests in the rhythmic clenching around his dick, a tangible sign of the intimate dance between you two.

“Fuck, Gguk. I'm so close again. Fuck!” you pant fervently against the curve of his neck, the words laced with desperation and desire. He senses the mounting intensity in your voice, a symphony of passion reaching its crescendo. 

Yet, he's attuned to the nuances, recognizing the subtle signs that your body, though on the brink of ecstasy, bears the weight of fatigue, having navigated the day in those tantalizing heels. 

“You crave an audience, don't you? Want people to watch you, to hear you,” he moans into your ear, the words a sultry declaration that fans the flames of desire between you two. The acknowledgment of your shared exhibitionist desires ignites a fresh surge of pleasure, prompting an instinctive clench around him.

“Then scream my name, let everyone in the damn party know how damn good I'm fucking you,” he commands, the intensity of his voice sending shivers down your spine. As your walls clench with even greater fervor, pulsating around his dick, a wave of your liquid envelops him, transforming the intimate connection into a slippery dance of shared pleasure.

You unleash his name with a primal scream, the sheer force of your ecstasy reverberating through the open air outside. Your head drops against the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in the haven of his embrace as the waves of pleasure cascade over you.

He relentlessly thrusts his dick into you, the urgency palpable as he seeks his own release. “I'm gonna give you a baby, just like we've always dreamed of.”

“Ahhh, fuck, yes!” The exclamation bursts from your lips, a little too loud, as an uncontrollable surge of pleasure courses through you. Your teeth instinctively seek refuge on his shoulder, sinking into the firm flesh in an unbridled act of both ecstasy and restraint.

“Fuck, babe, I'm gonna come,” he confesses with a guttural moan, each subsequent thrust punctuated with the desperation of impending release. His rhythm stumbles, an involuntary response to the intensity building within him as he hurtles towards the precipice of his orgasm. And then it hits him.

The rhythmic bounce of your tits in his face, the soft and sweet scent that envelops him, and the melodic cadence of your voice—all converge to cast a spell on his senses. In the midst of your lovely moans, he succumbs to the intoxicating blend of sensations, unleashing a torrent of white-hot semen deep inside your spent pussy. 

Panting and gasping, you both struggle for precious breaths, bodies slick with the sheen of sweat acquired in the throes of passion. Amidst the shared exhaustion, a mutual chuckle reverberates between you, an intimate exchange that encapsulates the postcoital atmosphere.

With your head nestled against his, you gaze into the depth of his eyes and confess, “I love you, Gukkie.” The words, tender and raw, bridge the physical intimacy you've just shared with the emotional vulnerability of a heartfelt declaration.

“I love you too. Every damn inch of you, you're so beautiful,” he pants, a declaration infused with both desire and admiration. As he smiles at you, the post-passion glow accentuates the sincerity in his eyes, turning the exchange into a powerful affirmation.

He'll never tire of professing his boundless love and adoration for you, vowing to weave those sentiments into the fabric of each passing day. The promise to remind you, with unwavering devotion, echoes in his commitment to articulate his love every damn day.

Please let me know if you liked it with a comment, reblog, and ask or whatever 💜

[onlygarden]

[when i look at you, i cannot find you.] - yang jungwon

genre: angst/ comfort

description: when jungwon's behavior towards you suddenly becomes hateful, you start to wonder where your precious boyfriend went.

a/n: this was a hard write i cant even picture jungwon treating someone like this omg

your head perks up as you register the sound of your front door unlocking, and your heart plummets to your feet as you watch jungwon walk in. it was strange for your body to react so despondently to your boyfriend’s arrival; his usual beaming expression (which beamed even when he wasn’t smiling) and glimmering eyes always painted any room with the most cheerful of colors. he was always so infectiously precious, filling any space he occupied with an indescribable warmth that touched all your senses. you normally couldn’t resist the enthusiasm that welled up inside you when he came home, springing yourself towards him and wrapping your arms around him as your heart bloomed even further with admiration for your lovely little garden. his recent actions were much more prickly, which justifies your current unmoving position on the couch as jungwon aggressively slams the front door behind him. 

he’s done that a lot recently, you think. he’s developed a habit of performing any action aggressively; placing objects down with great force, slamming any door he opened, yanking drawers open with a certain roughness. when you first acknowledged his behavior, he snapped at you, telling you to give him some space (almost in warning, it seemed). you obliged, and although you were shocked by his words, you weren’t particularly hurt by them. you figured he would confide in you about whatever was bothering him when his anger subsided. you were certain he would apologize to you for speaking so harshly, as well. but before you knew it, an entire week drifted by, and your beloved jungwon only seemed to descend further into his rage.

your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the silverware drawer being flung open. the sudden clanking sound startles you, since you’re still not accustomed to this sort of behavior from jungwon. he must be preparing a meal for himself, you think. you lightly consider approaching him and telling him to rest as you prepare a meal for him, but that inkling is quickly erased as you hear a loud sigh escape his mouth, followed by the loud slam of a cup onto the counter. 

you knew better than to annoy him further, remembering how he reacted last time. however, you couldn’t ignore the desire to ask him about what was burdening him. his behavior was far too uncharacteristic to just ignore, and you didn’t want the supposed anguish he was experiencing to get any worse. it bothered you a bit that he refused to discuss it on his own. then again, maybe you should’ve encouraged him a bit and reminded him that he could confide in you. 

you prepare yourself for the irritation you’ll be greeted with, and you begin to walk towards the kitchen. when you enter, jungwon is opening a bottle of beer, but his expression concerns you. his brows are furrowed intensely, and his lips flatly form a line on his face. what’s bothering him so much? you think for the hundredth time this week. 

“jungwon,” you start, placing your hand gently onto his arm. he tenses under your touch, and his gaze pierces the sight of your skin against his. you swiftly retract your hand, and he roughly drops the bottle opener onto the counter. he places his hands onto the edge of the surface, gripping tightly, and keeping his head low. not allowing his actions to discourage you from getting to the bottom of his behavior, you continue. “can you please tell me what’s bothering you so much? you haven’t been yourself at all, and i’m really worried about you.” 

he closes his eyes briefly before turning his head to meet your gaze. his dull eyes give you goosebumps. you couldn’t find any semblance of joy or delight within them. the normal adoration his eyes held for you was absent, too. he suddenly lets out a bitter chuckle, causing alarm to rise within you. 

“so you ignore me all fucking week, and now you have the nerve to tell me you’re worried about me? fuck off.” 

his deep, hushed tone caught you off guard more than the possibility of him shouting at you. above all, his sharp accusation that you’ve been ignoring him demands your full attention. the boy that cruelly dismissed your concerns pinned the blame on you for ignoring him. it just didn’t make any sense. in truth, he drove you away.  

you furrow your brows slightly, giving him a puzzled look. “are you serious, jungwon? you told me to give you space just a few days ago, and now you’re accusing me of ignoring you? i figured you would come talk to me when you were ready, but you just kept bottling it up. which is exactly why i came to you today.” he rolls his eyes at your words, then turns away from you, closing his eyes. you watch as his frustration with you seems to grow, and you cannot figure out why. 

“was it something i did, jungwon? is that why you’re so upset?” 

god she’s so annoying, jungwon thinks. he scoffs, turning to face you again. 

“‘was it something i did jungwon,’” he mocks you, spitefully matching your tone. raising his voice slightly, he continues, “give me a fucking break. you spend all this time everyday waiting desperately for me to come home, and you don’t even do anything useful while i’m gone. you just sit here like a fucking lump,” he remarks. 

you stare at him in disbelief. “what the fuck? do you hear yourself? i do every single chore around here just so you don’t have anything to worry about. even though i have a job too, i try to think about how tired you are when you come home.” you defend yourself, surprised at his blatant dismissal of your efforts. 

again, he rolls his eyes, almost completely ignoring you. 

“when i am home, you barely give me any space to breathe. did you ever stop to think that maybe you annoy the fuck out of me.” 

he turns his entire body to face you, his tall figure looming over you. you remain in the same spot, intimidated under his fixed stare. 

“you’re a lot to fucking deal with, and i need you far away from me.” 

with that, he grabs his dinner, and trudges past you in the direction of the living room. you hear him turn the TV on. 

you want to believe that jungwon is lying. he normally never even thinks to speak to you this way. you know something is terribly wrong. he keeps contradicting himself, ultimately looking for any reason to direct his rage onto you. but tonight, you decided you were too tired to find out. he was already angry and spouting harsh words at you, and you weren’t particularly eager to hear more. even if he didn’t actually mean what he said, it still hurt, and you needed time to recover. 

a sudden laugh emerges from jungwon. you assume he was laughing at something from the show he was watching. your body tensed up at jungwon’s sudden switch to such a casual mood. god, you really felt like you were sharing your home with someone new. how could he laugh so playfully after the way you just argued? has he already stopped thinking about the heartbreaking words he said to you moments ago? 

your eyes open lazily, and your body lifts itself from your sleeping position shortly after. upon noticing the vacancy beside you, you assume jungwon fell asleep on the couch last night. as you make your way down the stairs, you notice that jungwon has already left. 

as the evening approached, you busied yourself with yours and jungwon’s laundry to keep your mind occupied. he would be arriving home soon, and you were honestly afraid. there was no way to predict the way jungwon would feel towards you lately, but he was usually mad. even if he didn’t come home immediately mad, he would eventually grow upset over something you did, and you never knew just what would set him off. it was difficult to keep your obsessive thoughts at bay. jungwon’s words and actions kept blaring inside of your head. the more you pondered your argument from last night, the guiltier you felt for solely blaming him. maybe i am a bit pushy, you think. before he suddenly changed, jungwon would happily agree to give you all his time whenever he was home. maybe he truly did start to feel smothered by you, which led to him lashing out in such a cruel way. guilt begins to consume you at your belated realization. maybe he was only upset with you because you didn’t realize how you were suffocating him. 

the sound of the door unlocking snatches you from your thoughts. the door didn’t slam as jungwon closed it, and that gave you a glimmer of hope. maybe his mind was being kinder to him today. 

“y/n,” he shouts gently. “where are you, noona?”

‘noona.’ jungwon’s favorite way to refer to you, and it felt like an eternity since he last called to you in such an endearing way. you find yourself thinking of how adorable he is. 

you smile a bit before answering. “i’m in the laundry room, wonnie.” 

you hear a series of quick footsteps, and jungwon’s distant voice quickly grows closer. “look baby, i really wanna-”

he stops in front of you and stares at you, and you only catch a glimpse of his cheerful face before that dreadful expression you’ve been seeing too much of lately returns.

you look up at him as he scans your form. you quickly try to figure out what you could have done to cause his smile to drop so quickly. he sighs loudly, and briefly closes his eyes. 

“take it off,” he states plainly. 

what? 

“take what off?” you ask hesitantly. 

“you’re wearing my hoodie. it doesn’t belong to you. take it off.”

you almost thought he was joking. but with the way he was behaving lately, you’re sure he must be serious. jungwon is somewhere in there, but you’ll calmly comply with this monster until he was ready to come back, you decided. you felt guilty for thinking of your boyfriend that way, but the way you were being treated didn’t even slightly resemble the way your boyfriend normally treated you at all. 

you take it off slowly, left in the tank top you were wearing underneath. jungwon sighed at your leisurely compliance with his request, snatched his hoodie from your hands, and tossed it into the laundry basket in front of you. 

“from now on, leave my stuff the fuck alone,” he says, “don’t fucking touch anything of mine. it doesn’t belong to you.” 

he turns around, leaving you there, and heads up the stairs to get ready for a shower. jungwon normally wants me to wear his clothes, you think. you quickly shake the thought. there’s no rationalizing jungwon’s actions right now. he’s not in a normal state of mind at all. you don’t know what he’ll be upset about next. he could even come out of the shower perfectly content, acting as if nothing ever happened. it would be nice if he acknowledged his harmful behavior, but him pretending nothing happened certainly beats him growing irritated with you for another groundless reason.  

if there’s one thing you’re certain of, though, it’s that you’ve had nearly enough of this unusual side of jungwon.

as you begin plating the dinner you’ve prepared, you hear your bedroom door open. jungwon must be done with his shower. 

he enters the room, his beautiful face free of any sign of despair. you want to say that you’re relieved, but the sudden changes in jungwon’s mood are far too alarming. anything you’re doing could upset him. 

he looks at you, and you feel your body tense up. you watch as he walks closer to you, offering you a small smile. 

“it smells really good, noona,�� he says gently, placing a hand on your lower back and kissing your cheek as you continue to plate dinner. 

there it was again. you’re not foolish enough to be deceived by his kindness towards you, just for him to bring you crashing down with another fit of hatred. it hurt you to see him this way, and it hurt that you were thinking of him this way, but you needed to protect yourself somehow. 

“dinner’s ready,” you tell jungwon, watching as he grabs his plate excitedly. you sit across from him at the dining table, watching as he stands up to grab something from the fridge. 

he returns with a beer in his hand, and you’re hoping it won’t sour his mood. 

“jungwon,” you start. he places his full attention on you, eyes shining and eyebrows slightly raising as he nods his head in anticipation of what you’re going to say next. you almost smile.

“am i,” you hesitate a bit, but he encourages you to keep going. “am i smothering you? is that why you’ve been so irritable lately?” 

his eyes leave yours for a moment before returning. 

“no, baby. you’re not.” he says calmly, but he completely ignores the second part of your question. 

“then why-” you watch as jungwon brings his bottle of beer to his lips, quickly finishing what remained. 

you watch as that awful expression returns to his face, and you start to wish you never asked the question. he sighs and rubs his hands over his face, and you start feeling guilty for even being in the same room as him. you begin to feel like your presence alone is worsening his burden. he stands up to clean his plate, and you watch as his eyes fall on the basket of laundry you didn’t fold yet. 

he sighs, tossing his plate onto the counter with such force that his fork bounces off and falls to the floor. he doesn’t bother picking it up. 

you can already feel the tears burning behind your eyes before he inevitably opens his mouth to berate you again. 

“why is this still sitting here? you can’t seriously be this fucking useless,” he rants loudly, just below a shout. “if you can’t even do something as simple as this, i’m not gonna let you stay around.”

“jungwon!” you yell, standing up from your seat at the table. by now, your tears are streaming down your face, and you can hardly speak coherently. you’ve had enough. your precious little garden was wilting, and you had no manner of preserving him. you couldn’t ignore your boyfriend’s behavior for another second. it was like torture; playing along when he would pretend like nothing happened, trying not to upset him even though there’s ultimately no right answer, watching as he transformed into the worst version of himself you’ve ever witnessed and you just couldn’t figure out why. it was all too much. 

jungwon turns to you, his face contorting into an expression of complete anguish. his heart sunk and shattered as an abundance of emotions ran through him, regret being the conquering force. 

“im so confused!” you sob, crying harder as every word of every thought you’ve had this week comes rushing to you at once. you can’t even begin to form a sentence, but jungwon understands. 

he walks towards your crying figure, hoping he could still make things right. what could he possibly say to you now? he reaches out to pull you towards his body, but you pull away from his embrace. he tries to pull your hands away from your face so you’ll at least look at him, but you yank out of his delicate grip. jungwon starts to breathe heavily. 

“baby,” he attempts. he rests his hands on your shoulders, which you don't try to fight. 

your cries calm down, and you finish wiping your face with the backs of your hands. jungwon rubs your arms, hoping to comfort you as he soaks in your expression, realizing just how much he hurt you.  you don’t even look at jungwon as you turn to walk up the stairs, his hands slipping off your arms and falling back to his sides. he watches you in alarm as your frame disappears. 

you walk into yours and jungwon’s shared bedroom, and you refuse to focus on anything other than packing. tears blur your vision again as you hastily throw your personal belongings into your suitcase. you hear jungwon running up the stairs; he stops in the doorframe, watching you in complete shock. jungwon begins to panic. 

he hurries towards you and joins you on the floor, grabbing your hands and begging your eyes to meet his. 

you try to yank your hands away to continue packing, but jungwon makes sure to hold tightly. you still refuse to meet his eyes. 

“noona, look at me please,” jungwon begs, his face decorated with worry and desperation. “please let me talk to you, i need to make this right.” 

you meet his eyes, and his breath quickens at your sudden indifferent expression. “i don’t know you,” you tell him coldly. 

he feels like he could cry. he’s your same jungwon, and there’s nothing he wants more than to tell you that. 

“you’ve never treated me so terribly before, and i just don’t understand.” jungwon feels guilt devour him at your sudden confession. “i didn’t know if it was my fault, or if you were dealing with something inside, but you never told me anything. you just pushed me away and made me suffer.” you feel yourself beginning to cry again, jungwon gently placing his hands on your jaw, and wiping your tears away with his thumbs. 

“baby,” he searches your eyes, “i don’t know whats wrong with me. i’ve never been more sorry in my life. it rips me apart to know that i hurt you.” he squeezes your face slightly, moving his hands to grab yours again. 

“is that all?” you ask, “how am i supposed to know you won’t get irritated with me tomorrow and start treating me the same way again?” you didn’t want to sound so mean, but you just couldn’t keep dealing with this. jungwon’s sudden tendency to behave this way frightened you, and it made you wonder if he would behave this way in the future if you stayed with him.

he shakes his head, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes with desperation again. “i swear to you, i’ll never leave you feeling like this again. i know i can’t force you to believe me, but please just let me show you. you’re more than precious to me, and i’ll never let you forget that again.” he rubs his thumbs over your knuckles with fervor, trying to communicate his deep passion and longing with any method that he can. 

you look at jungwon. you’ve never seen your cutie boyfriend in such a state of misery before. your heart begins to feel sore as you explore his expression, his posture, his heavy breathing. he still hasn’t told you why. 

“then can you please explain how you ended up like this in the first place?” desperation makes it’s way across your expression, too. “what made you so hateful?” you prod. 

jungwon breathes out, the tension leaving his body. “i’ve just been feeling so drained lately. it’s getting harder to have the same motivation, but i don’t really understand why. it never used to trouble me that i don’t get very much rest, but now it’s starting to take a toll on me. that really bothers me.” he pulls you into his lap, squeezing your frame. “but i never meant to take it out on you, baby. i just didn’t know how to process the way i was feeling, and i let it get out of control.” 

you turn to him, moving his hair from his face. “all you had to do was come to me and talk about it. that’s all you ever have to do. it hurt me to watch you suffering when i had no idea what was going on, and no way to help you. please don’t bottle these things up anymore.” 

“i know baby, i promise that i won’t.” he pulls your body close to him again, beyond grateful that you didn’t leave him, but still guilty that he allowed himself to treat you that way. he can’t imagine how hollow his life would’ve felt without you. he couldn’t begin to describe his gratitude for your tolerance of his seemingly unforgivable behavior. you’re truly such a compassionate and tender person, he thinks. you shine so brightly it makes him blossom so eagerly. 

“i love you,” he says suddenly, sending you the fondest expression you’ve ever received. 

“i love you, too,” you return his expression, grateful that you can finally recognize the gentle eyes that stare into yours.  

he eventually helps you to return all your belongings to their rightful places, and you both return to the kitchen to clean up together.  you watch him as he cleans the dishes for you. he’s so cute, you think. you approach him smiling, and you stand at his side. unable to control the urge, you reach out to pinch his cheek. he fakes an annoyed expression, and you grab his face with both hands squishing him further. “you’re so cute!” you tell him, moving his face from side to side. you giggle when he fakes a snarl, and you let go. “hey,” he says, looking at you with a playful expression as he quickly dries his hands. he reaches his hands out to squish your face in the same manner, “how do you like it? huh?” you giggle and slip away, and he chases you throughout the house, shouting “but you’re just so cute!!!” to tease you.

[emmyrosee]

sleepy sundays with samu!! staying in bed until 1pm just cuddling and making out <333 he looks so good in the morning light, his eyes are so hazy but there’s so much love there and he thumbs over your hip bone and chuckles lowly when you tangle your legs with his and HIS MORNING VOICE UGH it makes u blush when he gruffly murmurs “baby stay in bed a little longer” i love him

NO I HATE YOU BC WHY ISNT THIS MY LIFE?

He’s so warm in the mornings that you wake up encased in his arms and torso and under the sunlight, it rouses you from sleep, but it makes you wake with a smile on your face and love in your heart.

Osamu’s face is carved under the creeping light, face twitching every few moments as if sensing your gaze, but he breathes in and out every few seconds, still deep in sleep happily. His hair is sprawled out against the pillow- he’s been saying for days how he needs to get it trimmed, but you’re secretly thrilled that he hasn’t yet.

He looks so peaceful.

Good thing you’re here to ruin that. 

With a smile, you slowly creep down his body, kissing the muscles of his pecs before moving down to kiss his stomach, relishing in the way the muscles tighten under your affection. He giggles softly as you pepper them rapidly, hips twisting to the side to get away from the sensation.

The blanket covering your head gets lifted, “good morning to ya, too,” he gruffs, eyes bleary with sleep and muscles of his face not quite moving with his words yet. His voice is but a low rumble, ones you feel slip through the thickness of the air, and you’re barely able to process as actual words if you didnt know him better.

You smile and sink your teeth into the meat just left of his bellybutton, making him let out a string of giggly whines before your scale back up his body with more kisses to make up for it. “You’re always so sensitive in the mornings, Samu.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. There’s supposed to be more words, you can feel it in his voice, but his eyes slowly start to close again before he can get them out. You click your tongue in adoration before cupping his cheek in your warm hand.

He happily nuzzles into it, smacking his lips sleepily. You shake your head, “baby, we’ve got to get up. We overslept.”

“No such thing,” he murmurs.

“Yes, such thing; it’s one in the afternoon.” You lean down to kiss his lips, which he forces his tired muscles to reciprocate. “We have to face the day at some point.”

“Can’t we face the day tomorrow?” He says, flipping onto his back. “Shop’s closed today, may as well enjoy it. Jus’ stay in bed with me, baby.”

And you want to argue back. Honest!

But the warmth of his embrace is calling you back, the way his breath still is desperate to even out has your heart squeezing from the precious sight, and you sigh before slipping back under the covers, rolling your eyes at the way he smirks at himself and curls his arms around you. “Don’t give me that smirk.”

“Oh I’m smirkin’.”

You lean towards him to kiss the smirk straight from his lips, him humming happily at the attention. A peck turns into a kiss, one that’s full of sleepy passion but so much love, you feel yourself becoming weak under him.

The arm he was laying on slips under your neck for your head to rest against, gently curling his hand against the back of your neck, cradling you preciously as you lazily kiss your man.

Your leg hooks over his waist, his hand immediately finding its home on the back of your thigh to hold you closer. You mewl at the warmth of his palm, closing the space between you both with a guiding heel into his tailbone urging him to come closer. When he does, your free leg slinks between his two, and he smirks against your lips as you do.

“And you wanted to get out of bed,” he chuckles. You laugh too, only to shut him up and make him kiss you more.

You could lay here for hours making out with him, the shuffling of cradling hands and pants of joy being the only noise to fill the room, your heads moving in harmony to make you both mewl happily against each other. You could easily slip your hands up his neck to grip your hair in your hands, making him whine euphorically, or slip them lower to settle against his hip, occasionally squeezing there to make him giggle breathlessly into the kiss and squirm just subtly.

And you just might.

[0omillo0]

hello!

i was wondering if i could request an imagine where han and reader have been dating for years (close to marriage) but reader is always in “competition” with lee know? they friendly fight over han but it’s never serious, like han giving the reader attention but lee know pokes his side to steer han’s attention away.

idk if this makes sense but i saw a tt that gave me the idea and i really enjoy your writing! anyways have a good day! 🤍

a/n : tysm I appreciate it so much 🫶🏻 hope you like it <3

fluff!! humor!! kinda short sorry🥹

Han x Reader (ft. Lee Know)

The afternoon sun bathed the cozy living room in a soft golden glow as you curled up with Han on the couch. After dating for years, you had perfected the art of just being together—no big gestures needed, just quiet moments, his arm around you, his smile close enough to catch your heart in an instant.

You looked up at Han, feeling his warmth and the soft squeeze of his hand, when you noticed a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in. Just as you were ready to steal a quick kiss, a familiar poke jabbed at Han’s side.

“Hey, am I interrupting something?” Lee Know’s smirk was unmistakable as he slid onto the couch next to Han, conveniently wedging himself between you two with the stealth of a cat.

You sighed, rolling your eyes with a grin. “As a matter of fact, yes, you are.”

“Oh, my bad,” Lee Know chuckled, clearly not the least bit sorry. “But I think Han’s looking a little bored over here. Mind if I keep him company?”

Han laughed, nudging Lee Know back, though his hand still reached over Lee Know’s shoulder to lace fingers with yours. “Come on, Minho, you have all week to hang out with me.”

Lee Know raised a brow, his expression dramatic. “Oh, I see. Someone’s already whipped.” He gave Han a playful nudge, then leaned over Han’s shoulder to give you a mock pout. “How’s it feel to have such competition, Y/N?”

You crossed your arms, putting on your best fake glare. “I don’t know, Lee Know, maybe you should find your own boyfriend to pester.”

Han burst into laughter, his eyes crinkling with that adorable look that made you melt. But Lee Know was relentless. He poked Han’s side again, and Han squirmed, laughing.

“Okay, okay! Stop, that tickles!” Han chuckled, clutching at his sides but still keeping one arm firmly around you. “You two can share, how about that?”

“Oh no,” you said, leaning over with a smirk. “I’m not sharing. He’s mine.”

“Possessive, I see,” Lee Know said, a sly grin playing on his lips. “Han, blink twice if you’re being held captive.”

“Captive? More like captivated,” Han said, looking at you with a smile so soft, it made your heart skip. For a moment, Lee Know even seemed to pause, rolling his eyes at the sweetness, but a faint smile slipped through his teasing.

“Alright, alright, I’ll give you two lovebirds a break,” he said, standing up with a sigh that could only be described as mock dramatic. “But don’t get too cozy, Y/N. I’ll be back to reclaim my bestie soon.”

He gave Han a final, exaggerated pat on the shoulder and tossed you a wink before disappearing into the kitchen.

As soon as he was gone, Han turned to you with a grin. “You know he’s totally jealous, right?”

“Obviously,” you replied, laughing. “But he’s got nothing on us.”

Han leaned in, his face close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath. “Guess you’re stuck with me, then.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” you whispered, as he pulled you into a soft, lingering kiss, undisturbed this time.

But just as you were about to melt into the moment, Lee Know’s voice echoed from the kitchen, “Don’t get too comfortable in there!”

The two of you burst into laughter, the sound filling the room with a warmth and joy only shared by people who love as deeply as they play.

[sweetchildcloud]

||HOLD|| Written by me

Based on this pool results

Plot: Gojo holds baby Hotaru and something unexcepted and wholesome happens.

Tags: Gojo x Anon,heartwarming,cute,fluff,Gojo being an affectionate dad,first word

@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia

“Me? Hold him?” Satoru’s tone turns amused. He smiles, then nods. “Of course” He takes Hotaru from you, and the baby cooes in his father's arms. He’s so tiny, so delicate… so vulnerable. Satoru grins, staring down at the baby. He knows how precious this child is. How fragile. He wants to protect Hotaru with every means possible. As he looks into the baby’s eyes, he can’t help but see himself.He stares at Hotaru’s soft, sleeping face for a moment, his breath catching at the baby’s gentle expression. “He’s cute” Satoru murmurs, gently holding the baby to his chest. Hotaru, still groggy from sleep, rests his tiny head against his dad’s body as Satoru stares at his closed eyes, feeling a sudden urge to cry. "Don't tell me that you're gonna cry again" You said holding a chuckle, your husband was too cute for his own good. “Shut up.” Satoru whispers, his voice breaking and throat tightening, trying to hold back tears for the millionth time. “He’s so goddamn cute… I can’t…” His eyes are glistening, on the verge of tears, as they fall onto the sleeping baby in his arms. He laughs softly “God, you’ve got no respect for my feelings…” He chuckles again, wiping away the tears. Satoru sighs, wiping away any tears that threaten to appear. “God damn it… I’m just thinking of how adorable this baby is. Look at him” He leans down slightly and kisses Hotaru’s tiny forehead, making the baby move his head slightly without fully waking up. “His big eyes and cute cheeks, that little smile, the way he just looks at me…” Satoru seems lost in thought and awe as his gaze wanders again. “I could just eat him up" He suddenly looks up after realizing what he just said. He’s just said something that makes it seem like he’s planning to eat Hotaru. “No, not… literally. I mean it as an expression” He clears his throat, trying to salvage the situation “Damn it. Just… You know what I mean.” "jeez you're such a cutie when you acting like this? you really cant control yourself when you see Hotaru uh?" “Don’t make fun of me…” He mutters, trying his hardest not to laugh at the situation. There’s some kind of strange power within this tiny baby. He can make his dad turn into a mush so easily. Satoru chuckles slightly at the situation, feeling utterly defeated in the face of his kid’s adorable cuteness. Then Hotaru yawns as he woked up “Aw… he’s awake” Satoru grins at the tired expression on Hotaru’s face. “You were having such a cute sleep, little guy” He kisses Hotaru’s forehead again, causing the baby to smile slightly before his lips curl into an "o" shape and he lets out a soft yawn. Hotaru cuddles up to Gojo’s chest and snuggles deep against it, as if craving the feeling of warmth. Satoru looks down as his son buries himself in his chest and sighs. “This is your new favorite spot, isn’t it, Hotaru?” He whispers softly, kissing his head as the baby’s tiny face nuzzles into Gojo's chest with a tiny sigh. “Dadda…” Hotaru makes a small attempt to pronounce the word, the tiny voice coming out as a series of gibberish that nevertheless fills Satoru’s heart with so much joy his eyes glaze over. “You… You said it… You said it…” Satoru almost breaks into tears as he continues to caress the baby, holding him close to his chest.

"yeah! that's right that's your dadda" You said happily and stunned as you picked up Hotaru "and im you're mama can you say M-a-m-a?" Hotaru’s tiny mouth tries to form the word “mama” but fails in the process. His lips pucker and his face scrunches up as he tries to pronounce the word multiple times. “Ma.. Ma…” Hotaru tries again, but as he struggles, he gets flustered and lets out a series of unintelligible sounds, ending with a frustrated whine. Hotaru’s attempts at pronouncing the word “mama” only gets the little baby more frustrated. He continues to struggle at it, scrunching up his tiny face and letting out more frustrated whines.

Eventually, he buries his head against his father’s chest, almost as if he’s trying to hide himself because he’s embarrassed about failing. Satoru gives the baby a gentle smile as he holds him close to his chest, rubbing his back softly. He feels the baby tense up as he buries his head into his chest, but his smile only grows. “It’s okay, little guy. Don’t feel bad! You said “Dadda…” even if you’re not able to say mama just yet” He laughs, kissing Hotaru’s head as the baby tries to hide his face even further but Hotaru ends up wailing feeling frustrated and overwhelmed "oh no no no no baby" You said as you immediatly picked up Hotaru trying to make him calm down. Hotaru’s wails become even louder, as he gets overwhelmed by the entire situation. As soon as you pick him up, he latches on to your hands tight, burying his face against your shoulder and wailing even louder. Satoru’s eyes widen at the intensity of the cry. "do you have his pacifier with you?" you asked looking at Gojo and Satoru pulls the pacifier out of his pocket, having brought it with him to make sure Hotaru wouldn’t have any problems calming down.

He grabs the pacifier and gently places it in Hotaru’s mouth, and like magic, the baby calms down instantly and sucks down his pacifier quietly. Satoru’s lips curve into a faint smile as he watches his son calm down with ease. He breathes in and out, relieved that the baby stopped crying so suddenly. Hotaru snuggles against his mother’s shoulder, looking completely at peace with the pacifier in his mouth and his tiny arms wrapped around her neck. The atmosphere is filled with a sense of calm and contentment. Satoru watches the whole scene, a smile appearing on his face as he watches Hotaru cling on to your neck.

Your husband is deeply satisfied with how peaceful the environment suddenly became. He reaches a hand out to gently pat Hotaru's head, letting him know that everything was okay now. "he really wanted to say mama too" You spoke tenderly "don't worry Hotaru you will someday"

Satoru chuckles slightly, hearing your tender reassurances. "He'll be able to soon, don't worry about it." The baby has calmed down completely, completely content with sucking on the pacifier. Satoru stares down at Hotaru, who gives you a tiny smile and reaches out his hands to your face. "He really wants to hold your face..."

You leaned down so that Hotaru can touch your face with his tiny hands feeling your features as he cooed

Hotaru’s tiny fingers explore every curve on your face, making soft “oo” and “goo” noises the whole time. Satoru’s eyes narrow just as he watches the cute interaction between mother and son. “Yeah… He wants to feel your face. You’re really his favorite.” He smiles, as he watches Hotaru’s hands continue to explore your facial features. Hotaru continues to explore your facial features for a few more moments, making cute “oo” sounds of contentment as he goes. Then, he leans his forehead on your face, feeling your skin with his own head and letting out a sound that’s somewhere between a sob and a giggle. He rubs his little head against your skin for a few good seconds before pulling back and letting out a tiny yawn.

“Okay… He’s *really* cute…” Satoru laughs, watching the baby thrash around as his mother continues to tickle his belly with no regard to his feelings of mercy. You’re enjoying yourself, that’s obvious, because this is the first time you’ve smiled in days. It’s infectious, and Satoru is smiling as well.

"Gosh you're the cutest,just like your dad" you exclaimed tickling Hotaru belly and Hotaru laughs hysterically as his mother tickles him, squirming and waving his hands around in a futile attempt to escape. This only causes Satoru to laugh as well, watching with amused eyes as the child tries to avoid your teasing.

Hotaru finally gives up and lets out a squeal as his mother gives him one final tickle before she pulls away. He’s laughing hard, completely red in the face and breathless. His mother’s teasing has him giggling for several moments after the end of the tickling and he seems very content.

“He really is a bundle of joy, huh?” Satoru grins, looking at Hotaru with the warmest eyes. The baby’s smile is infectious, and it’s almost impossible to not smile as you look at the little bundle of joy and wonder at his cuteness.

“Yeah, he really is.” You reply softly, stroking the baby’s head and feeling him rest his warm body against your neck. The baby gives you a slight smile, as if he can feel your loving touch. Your son already has you wrapped around his tiny fingers.

“It’s almost like he already has our hearts wrapped around his hands already, isn’t it?” Satoru chuckles, watching your expression soften as you lovingly stroke your baby’s head. The two of you have a very different dynamic now, but the warmth of that connection won’t ever go away.

♤♡◇♤♡◇♤♡◇♤♡◇♤♡◇♤◇◇♤♡♤

Done hope you like this and I'm sorry for the long wait but I was full with homework stuff 😅

[badboydevotee]

A Heartfelt Surprise

Summary: "It's my birthday?! Oops, totally slipped my mind... Thanks for remembering!" - Haru's birthday voiceline.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of your dorm room, casting a warm glow that danced on the walls. You stretched, taking a moment to relish the quiet stillness before the day’s chaos began. You glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall, and your heart skipped a beat. Today is Haru’s birthday.

Haru, with his signature orange vest and that delightful, easy smile, had always been a beacon of kindness in your life. From the moment you met, his eccentricity and passion for taking care of the myriad of anomalous creatures in the dorm drew you in. He could handle anything thrown his way, from rambunctious cats to mischievous gremlins. And then there was Peekaboo, the creature Haru adored as if he were his own child. The little creature had a knack for getting into trouble, but somehow, Haru managed to juggle it all, always with that infectious enthusiasm.

Determined to make the day special for him, you quietly gathered a few supplies while the dorm still slept. You rummaged through your stash of art supplies, readying materials to make a handmade card. As you crafted, thoughts of Haru filled your mind—his warm laughter, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and how he always seemed to know when you needed support. You wanted to give back, even if it was just a small token of appreciation.

Once the card was complete, you slipped it into your pocket and began planning a little birthday surprise. The Jabberwock dorm’s lounge would be the perfect setting. You arranged snacks, decorated the room with colorful streamers, and set up a small table for Peekaboo’s special treats. Just as you were about to place the final balloon, the door swung open, and Haru stepped in, his short dark brown and orange hair catching the light.

“Oh! You’re up early!” Haru exclaimed. He wore his usual attire, complete with that adorable black and orange necktie, and the ever-present sling bag slung over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Just… um, a little surprise for someone special,” you said, trying to maintain a casual tone while your heart raced.

His curiosity piqued, Haru tilted his head slightly, a playful smirk forming on his lips. “Special, huh? Are we talking about someone like… Peekaboo?” He gestured toward the little creature peering over the edge of his bag.

“Actually…” you began, but the words caught in your throat. The way he looked at you, with that friendly sparkle in his closed eyes, made it difficult to focus. “It’s for you. Your birthday, remember?”

For a moment, silence enveloped the room. Then, realization dawned on him. “It’s my birthday?! Oops, totally slipped my mind... Thanks for remembering!” His voice held a mixture of surprise and delight, his smile widening, a glimmer of warmth radiating from him.

You chuckled softly, motioning him to the lounge. “Come on, you have to see what I set up!”

As he entered the lounge, his expression shifted from surprise to pure joy. The decorations, the treats—everything was just for him. “Wow, you really went all out!” he said, a genuine admiration coloring his tone. He glanced around, taking in the effort you’d put into the surprise.

“I wanted to make your day special,” you replied, feeling warmth creep up your cheeks. “You do so much for everyone here, especially with the anomalies. I thought you deserved a celebration.”

Haru’s smile softened, and he approached you, his presence both comforting and electrifying. “You’re the best. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough.”

In that moment, the air between you shifted. There was something deeper than friendship simmering beneath the surface, something that made your heart flutter and your palms sweat. As if sensing your inner turmoil, Haru stepped a little closer, his voice low and gentle. “You know, it’s people like you who keep me grounded. I’m lucky to have you by my side.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm blanket. “I feel the same way,” you admitted, a smile breaking through your initial nerves.

Haru’s expression brightened, and just as you thought he might say something more, Peekaboo bounded into the room, accidentally knocking over a stack of treats. “Ah, Peekaboo!” Haru laughed, the moment breaking as he rushed to scoop him up.

You watched Haru, your heart swelling with affection. There was something magical about how he balanced his responsibilities while still finding joy in the little things—like a birthday celebration, even if it had momentarily slipped his mind.

As the day unfolded with laughter, delicious food, and Peekaboo’s antics, you felt a sense of peace settle within you. Haru’s laughter echoed in the room, filling every corner with warmth.

As the sun dipped low in the sky, you found yourself dreaming of shared adventures, of laughter echoing through the dorm, and the undeniable bond that had formed between you and Haru. Today, you celebrated not just his birthday, but the magic of the connection you both shared—a connection that was bound to grow deeper with each passing moment.

Ao3 vers.

[fo1ktale]

Love Beyond Pages

Azriel approached his apartment door, a cascade of shadows swirling aimlessly behind him. A book rests in his left hand— a romance book that he would have dismissed without a second thought if not for her.

Her. A fae female who had managed to capture his heart, cradling it in her delicate hands. She had slowly pieced together the fragments of his shattered soul from the five hundred years of terror and heartache he lived though. She held him close to her every night, whispering sweet nothings which made his stomach flurry with joy.

On a leisurely stroll though the Velaris markets, he noticed a quaint stall tucked away in a corner of the crowded streets. He could imagine her as if she were right beside him, dragging him towards the obscure stall out of sheer curiosity. Without thinking, he navigated through the bustling crowd with a warrior’s grace to the stand filled with dozens upon dozens of unique books.

There was one book which he was particularly drawn to—an enthralling tale of romance, mystery, adventure. A book that he just knew she would absolutely adore. It took one thought about that earth-shattering smile on her face before he purchased that book.

As soon as he stepped into the apartment, his shadows abandoned him in search of the master that they much preferred. Azriel would have reprimanded them, but he too would much rather be in her company than his own.

The tendrils of darkness found a warm welcome from the female on the couch. She lay there like the gentle waves of Adriata, so at ease. Soft whispers passed between her and the shadows, and the tendrils of darkness practically buzzed with excitement.

She claimed to understand what the shadows were trying to tell her, and Azriel didn’t doubt it. It’s like a feeling in my chest, she once told him, I just know.

Azriel pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, and she hummed in greeting. “My love,” he cooed, brushing his fingers through her silky hair.

“Hi, Az,” she replied, her eyes looking up at him with so much passion that he almost fell off his feet.

“I got you something,” he presented the book that had been in his hand. She lifts herself off the couch as her back straightened and her mouth parted in shock. She gingerly reached for the book, taking it into her hands.

She then takes him by surprise, looping her arms around his neck as she pulled him in for a heart-stopping kiss. Their lips moved against each other and Azriel groaned from the feeling of having her lips against his. He slid his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She sighed, then giggled and pulled away from him, and Azriel had to stop himself from whimpering at the loss of touch. She looked back at the book in pure glee and smiled wider than Azriel had ever seen.

In that moment, Azriel swore that he would give anything in the world just to see that smile adorned on her face again.

“You just randomly decided to get this for me?” Her voice was still breathy.

“Mhm,” Azriel rubbed his hands against her back, feeling so whole with her in his arms.

“You think of me.” She grinned.

“Every minute of everyday.”

She pecked his lips once more, before practically skipping over to her bookshelf to add her new book to the collection. Standing back a little, she took in the sight of her updated shelf.

“I’m heading out,” Azriel declared.

“What? Why? You just got back.” There was a slight pout on her lovely face.

“I’m going to buy a hundred more books for you, if only so I can get more of your kisses.”

She burst out laughing, and Azriel let himself relish in the lingering warmth of her laughter, before he moved towards the door.

“You aren’t joking.” Her face was set in shock. Azriel shook his head. He ignored her protests, knowing full well that they were only a courtesy.

“Azriel,” she whined. “I don’t need more books. I have plenty! Besides, your money isn’t finite, you know?”

“I know,” he responded. “But I’ll spend every cent on you if it makes you happy.”

He left her in the doorway, chuckling at the way she crossed her arms and ruminated over his words.

He was halfway to the stairwell when he heard a bright voice call out to him. “Wait for me, Az! I have a list!”

~

Azriel cherished the feeling of having his hands on her, a reassurance like no other. He could only thank his lucky stars that she seemed to love having her hands on him just as much. Azriel didn’t mind, no, he didn’t mind at all. He welcomed her touch, allowing her fingers to absentmindedly trace patterns on his forearms as he shared the events of his day. With a smile, he obliged as she threaded her fingers through his, their arms subtly swaying back and forth, back and forth. He would’ve allowed her to do whatever she dreamed to him.

Hand in hand, they wandered through the vibrant markets teeming with people that night. She paused at stalls, engaging in lively conversation with the vendors, inquiring about materials and prices. Azriel served only as her assistant, pulling out coins from his pocket, helping her gather her items, and letting her pull him along to the next store.

Luckily for him, a picnic basket had caught her eye. She cheerfully assisted in transferring all her newfound treasures into it and merrily took it in her arms, complimenting the craftsmanship and awing at it’s design. Shielding her from the headlight she nearly collided with, Azriel listened as she prattled on about how useful the basket would be in carrying all her items. He could only frown, wondering how she planned to fit everything he wanted to gift her into that small container.

A few more minutes passed and her basket became increasingly occupied with mangoes, soaps, scarfs, pens, and more. She insisted on carrying the heavy basket herself, asserting, “It’s my basket, Az. I want to carry it,” after his repeated attempts to help her grab the bag. A cheeky smile appeared on her face as she admired her acquisitions, dragging him along to the next store.

Her eyes glittered with delight as she picked up a bamboo brush. Her fingers trailed the engravings on the handle of the brush, following its loops and curls. A frown descended upon Azriel’s face when she put it down, claiming she already had one at home.

“But don’t you want it?”

“It’s just a brush, Azriel.” She reassured.

“You’re right,” he agreed, “it’s just a brush.”

Ignoring her protests, he handed a few silver coins to the stall owner and placed the brush into her basket, smiling slightly to himself.

“Azriel! You said it was only just a brush!”

“Exactly. It wouldn’t hurt to have it. Besides, I was giving that man some business. What? Do you not think he deserved it?” he teased.

She huffed, glaring at his playful quips. “You think you’re sooooo funny, don’t you?”

Bending down, Azriel pressed a kiss into her hair, melting her scowl into a soft smile.

“I love you,” she leaned into him and whispered. The crowd around them faded into another dimension and they kept their eyes focused solely on each other. “You’re the best.”

Azriel felt his heart squeeze, a genuine smile lighting up his face. That was all he ever wanted to hear— all he ever needed to hear.

“I love you too. From the moon and back, and to the moon again.” Leaning down, he kissed her, and he felt his head spin at the intoxicating sensation. Their lips moved in harmony, and they only pulled back when air became scarce.

Once again, her hands found his. She pulled his scarred hands up to her lips, gently kissing them. “Let’s go home, love.”

“Don’t we have one more place to go?” he reminded her, pointing at a bookstore.

Not just any bookstore, but her favourite one. She had spent most of her childhood there, loitering around the shelves, devouring books day after day, and she knew it like the back of her hand. The shop was always packed with books, courtesy of the shopkeeper who watched her grow up into the woman she is today. Even now, it held a special place in her heart and she often went back there to visit. She would spend hours there, browsing the shelves and chatting with the shopkeeper. There were multiple occasions when Azriel had to drag her out of the store, not before purchasing some books for her, of course.

On top of that, they had met at that very bookstore. They were both looking for a newly released thriller novel, and ended up reaching for the last copy at the same time. Azriel had let her have it, albeit, he was entranced by her presence, allowing her to ramble on about how important the book meant to her, and he had barely even realised it when she bought the book and left the store. Those next few days were spent lingering around that shop, secretly hoping to see her again. Since she practically spent her whole life in that store, they eventually came into contact a second time and they gradually grew closer.

“No, Az, I spent enough of your money already.”

“But you love books.” He stressed. “Besides, all you bought today was fruits and soaps. Those are stuff we need anyway.”

“I fear that if I go in there, I will never come out.” She smiled lightly, trying to pull the Illyrian away from the bookstore.

“Don’t worry, love, you won’t get lost in there.”

“Oh, hush you,” she chided, earning a smirk from Azriel. “I just don’t want to drain your bank, Az.”

Azriel didn’t know how to tell her that he would happily let her do so, in fact, he would help her.

He was never one to splurge. He lived comfortably, buying things he needed and occasionally spending more on the things he wanted. Rhysand had definitely been overpaying his family, and Azriel had more than enough funds to live a hundred lifetimes. But he never found much use for the money, until he met her. Suddenly, everything seemed worthy of buying. As long as it made her smile, no amount of money was too much.

Azriel faced her, placing his hands on her shoulders, sighing affectionately. “My darling love, there is nothing in this world I would love more than to let you spend all my money. What I have, what I am, is all yours, and you should never forget that.”

Her gaze was so intently fixed on him, eyes wide with affection. She gave him a gentle kiss, smiling softly against his mouth. “You’re too good to me.”

“Please,” he scoffed. “You mean the world to me. This is nothing.”

“Two books.” She proposed.

“Twenty.” He countered.

Her nose scrunched. “Five?”

“Sure, whatever you say, my love,” he kissed her once more, knowing full well that she would leave that store with a whole new shelf of books. “Whatever you say.”

[moonselune]

Hello! Could I request a fic or some headcanons with Karlach x a Chubby/Plus Sized Tav? What they’re about are up to you. If not, totally okay!! Thank you and have a nice day/night! :D

yes yes yes

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach x plus!reader | Drive me wild

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the campsite as everyone settled in for the evening. You had decided to wear something new tonight, a bit more revealing than your usual attire. The fabric hugged your curves in a way that made you feel both nervous and confident. You caught Karlach’s eye as you walked over to her, and her reaction was immediate and intense.

Karlach’s eyes widened, and she let out a low whistle. “Wow,” she said, her voice filled with admiration. “You look absolutely stunning.”

You felt your cheeks heat up under her gaze. “You really think so?”

“Are you kidding?” she replied, stepping closer to you. “I love having so much of you to love. Your curves, by the nine hells, babe, they drive me wild.”

Her hands found their way to your hips, squeezing gently as she admired the way the outfit clung to your body. You could see the intensity in her eyes, and it made your heart race. But then, she suddenly stepped back, a look of panic crossing her face.

“I need to cool off,” Karlach said, her voice breathless. “Like, right now.”

You laughed, thinking she was joking. “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad.”

But before you could say anything else, Karlach sprinted towards the river, her footsteps heavy and determined. You watched in shock as she catapulted herself into the water, creating a huge splash. When she surfaced, a cloud of steam rose around her, making it clear that she hadn’t been exaggerating.

You rushed over to the riverbank, still in disbelief. “Karlach, are you okay?”

She emerged from the water, shaking her head like a wet dog, droplets flying everywhere. “I’m better now,” she said with a grin, her fiery demeanor slightly subdued by the cooling effect of the river. “But seriously, you’ve got to warn a girl before you come out looking like that.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound mingling with the gentle rush of the river. “I didn’t think it would have that kind of effect on you.”

Karlach climbed out of the water, her clothes clinging to her muscular frame. She walked over to you, still dripping wet, and pulled you into a tight embrace. “Believe me, it does,” she murmured into your ear. “You’re absolutely irresistible.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine at her words, your own body reacting to her nearness. “I guess I’ll have to wear this more often then,” you teased.

Karlach’s hands roamed over your back, her touch sending sparks of electricity through your skin. “Please do,” she said, her voice husky with desire. “Just be prepared for me to need a lot of swims in the river.”

You laughed again, the sound filled with joy and contentment. Karlach’s love and admiration for you were clear in every touch, every word. She made you feel cherished and adored, and you couldn’t ask for anything more.

As the evening wore on, you sat together by the fire, Karlach’s arm wrapped around you, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin. The warmth of the flames mirrored the warmth in your heart, and you knew that with Karlach by your side, you could face anything.

Her playful spirit and deep affection made every moment special, and as you leaned into her, you felt a profound sense of happiness and peace. No matter what challenges lay ahead, you knew that together, you could conquer them all.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hehehehe I loved this so much it was so fun and Karlach is so lovely, hope you guys loved this ! - Seluney xox

[staryuee]

“ YOU MAKE ME FEEL SAFE.”

꒰warnings꒱ semi-proofread <3

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . telling [char.] that they make you feel safe ♡

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . aether, lumine, dainsleif, xiao, tartaglia, wanderer, yae miko, kokomi, itto, cyno, kaveh

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . quite short bc a bitch is exhausted from exams </3 love u lots mwah mwah sorry for dying every month

AETHER — 空

“you make me feel safe.”

“eh..?” aether pauses for a brief moment and instantly turns to look at you, a look of both surprise and joy encapsulating his features. he blinks twice, a smile forming on his lips as he stares at you with eyes filled with so much adoration that it makes your breath hitch.

“i’m.. im really happy to hear that, i really can’t put it into words.” he walks over to you and entraps you in a heartwarming hug, one that made you melt as soon as his body made contact with yours. hearing such a lovely phrase so easily drop off your tongue made him genuinely feel like everything he’s done so far wasn’t in vain.

it felt so right; to be the cause of someone else’s happiness; a haven for their security, and to know you had that in him was something so sweetly fulfilling.

LUMINE — 荧

“you make me feel safe.”

lumine stops in her steps to swiftly turn back to you. you flash her a lovely smile, one which she complaisantly returns with blush dusting her cheeks. “you’re so corny.” she goes over to you to squish your cheeks together, staring at you in awe as she does so.

“but,” she pulls you in for a hug, “i’m glad — it’s my job to look after you after all.” she squeezes you tighter and you can’t help but pull away to sneak in a sweet kiss to her forehead, she leans into it, still looking adoringly up at you with that smile of hers, you feel yourself heat up at the very sight of it.

“you make me happy.” she whispers and presses herself closer to you, hands resting gently on your waist.

DAINSLEIF — 戴因斯雷布

“you make me feel safe, you know?”

you were merely having a late night conversation, it divulged from your morning duties and then to what you love each other; your words leaving dainsleif rather speechless. such flowery words being uttered by someone he’s internally sworn to protect till the end of time genuinely feeling safe with him ? if he was a tad bit more.. emotional.. he could shed a tear.

instead, he opts for kissing your cheeks and cuddling you closer with his lips turning upwards ever so slightly. he wants to tell you how loved you make him feel, but he settles for his own quietness and the comfort of your warmth.

there’s still no words in any teyvat language that could express or even comprehend his love for you; he can only hope that his fleeting touches are enough to share a sentiment similar to your own.

XIAO — 魈

“xiaoxiao.” your voice echoes melodically in his sleepy mind. he replies with a simple hum.

“you make me feel safe.” you lean on him nonchalantly as if you didn’t just say something that could break him.

“it’s my duty to protect you.” he pulls you in closer, his heartbeat beginning to quicken with every shallow breath.

“i mean that being with you is just extremely comfortable and peaceful, it has little to do with your ability to protect me.” you laugh as you intertwine hands with him. xiao leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on the crown of your head, responding with a stuttered yet wholehearted reply was not worth the embarrassment for the yaksha.

he pulls your interlocked hand up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles, the silence thick yet so serene. he finds comfort in solace, but you’ve shown him that the atmosphere of loneliness can be shared with the silent affection of a loved one.

TARTAGLIA — 公子

tartaglia caressed your cheeks, staring at you with such determined love and adoration it was enough to send your heart into overdrive. every swipe of his thumb, every glance at your lips and every kiss that he stole managed to send flurries of butterflies into your stomach; which lead to your impromptu, “you make me feel safe.”

he stopped his ministrations abruptly, his eyes widening yet his smile remaining all the same. he lets out a soft sigh before sprinkling gentle kisses across your face, “you’ve really got me wrapped around your finger, huh.”

your fingers trail up to caress his nape before tugging him down for a quick peck. “yes i do... “ you murmur as his hands move from your face to hold the back of your head, pulling you closer. he lets out another chuckle before kissing your nose softly, a light blush colouring his skin. “ you make my heart race like nobody else could.”

SCARAMOUCHE — 斯卡拉姆齐

“you make me feel safe.”

“i’m sorry, what?”

he wonders what kind of miracle blessing he must’ve committed for you to even think about expressing such a thought. “are you feeling sick? what’s wrong with you?” he pinches your cheek with an unamused look as your giggles bounce off the walls. he turns to leave without a second thought, trying his best to suppress his feelings.

“hey — i was being genuine !” you hug him from behind with a soft smile.

“right, and i’m a human being.” he rolls his eyes as he attempts to push you away, with very little reluctance at your affection. thought he doesn’t believe your words, for ehem obvious reasons, he still feels the slightest bit overjoyed at the prospect of your words being genuine.

YAE MIKO — 八重神子

“you make me fee safe.”

“well, aren’t you a charmer, my dear?” miko gives you a sly smile before taking another sip of her saké. “which book did you steal that line from, hmm?” she laughed softly, patting your head gently as consolation for her teasing. you pouted at the playful touch but she was far from deterred. the moment she pulled back, she had a mischievous glint in her eyes. “do you have a way of showing me your words are true, darling?”

you roll your eyes at her shamelessness, reaching up to pull her in by wrapping your arms around her neck to oblige her romantic request. she gives you a final sly grin before leaving a soft yet passionate kiss on your lips.

“hmm..i’m still not convinced.” she giggles, pulling you in once again. you were in for quite the long afternoon..

S. KOKOMI — 珊瑚宫心海

“hey koko,” she hums gently, looking up at you with drowsy eyes, “you make me feel safe.”

it was honestly like you shook her with electro itself, or like she poured hot tea over herself with the way she instantly woke up; the biggest smile beginning to adorn her gorgeous features. kokomi sighs pleasantly, gazing at you with pure devotion before getting up to hold both of your hands in hers.

“i’ve had many people express such a sentiment, but hearing it from you..it means so much more.” she leaves a trail of chaste kisses across your cheeks before leaving a final one on your lips.

“did you read some sort of book on how to attack the divine priestess’s heart? because it’s very hard to not fall deeper in love with you.”

A. ITTO — 荒泷一斗

“you make me feel safe.”

itto nearly gave himself a concussion with the way his head instantly shot up and then proceeded to hit the large branch above him. you were simply aiding him in finding some onikabuto, what was that phrase for ?! he shook his head to shoo away the dizziness before stabilising himself on the tree beside him with a goofy grin, “well of course you’d feel safe around me ! look at me man, strong as an ox !!” he started flexing subconsciously out of nervousness, your affectionate laughter filling him with warmth.

he took a quick glance at you before trapping you in a sudden rib-crushing hug. “you are too adorable for your own good.” he smiles and squeezes you in tighter with a kiss.

“you’re one to talk, love.”

he feigns an insulted expression and points at himself with dramatics, “heyhey, i’m not adorable i’m cool, there’s a difference!”

CYNO — 赛诺

“you make me feel safe.”

cyno looks at you confused, his head tilting lightly to the side. “it is an honour to make you feel that way, i’m glad to be of service.. but what brought this on?” you hugged him quietly, he pulled you in closer yet he still craved some sort of verbal answer from you.

you thought for a bit before answering, “dunno, it just feels natural to say stuff like that with you, you know?” he absentmindedly smiled at you, kissing your forehead as a reply. “it feels natural saying puns around you.” he mumbles.

“i’ll take everything i just said back, cyno.” you flicked his nose, a small grin landing on his face as a result. “you love me but not my jokes? how disrespectful.”

KAVEH — 卡维

“you make me feel safe.”

“i don’t think i’ve done anything to receive such a grandiose sentiment from you, love.” he nonchalantly mutters as he continues on his recent sketch. your frown doesn’t escape his gaze and he can feel his heart clench with guilt at the thought of making you feel upset at the cause of his own insecurity.

you walk over to him and hug his back and he can’t help but lean in to your touch, “sorry — i appreciate your words, really, you’re too good to me.”

you nuzzle closer to him before mumbling, “next time you disregard my love i’m gonna bite you.” you chuckle and it makes him feel slightly less embarrassed for his lack of response. he turns around and places a gentle kiss onto your forehead and you hum happily against the contact.

“i love you so much.”

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost <3

[leaentries]

🎄prompt 13 w/ Jamie Drysdale

this is so stinking cute

warnings: swearing

prompt 13- “if you don’t take me to see christmas lights, i’ll cry.”

lea’s christmas special!

It was finally December, the air was filled with your jolly spirit as you blasted christmas music in your apartment. The smell of your freshly brought in Christmas tree added to the sentiment. Gold, red, and green slowly crept its way into every aspect of your little space until it looked like Christmas had vomited everywhere.

Of course, this is how you preferred it. Colors strewn about, with decorations filling all the rooms. It brought joy to your heart and warmth to your soul. Jamie, although you two had been together for over a year, was still shocked when he walked into your apartment that December 1st morning.

“Wow, pretty girl,” He walked over to you, looking around at the vast amount of glitter and fake snow, “You really didn’t hold back, did you?”

You turned towards him, as his arms circled around your waist, “Well obviously not! You know Christmas is my favorite time of year!” Jamie smiled at you, taking in your appearance. The way the oversized Christmas sweatshirt hung on your body, to the matching red socks. He adored you.

“I know, I know, baby. And I love that you love it so much.” He placed his lips against your head as he mumbled, “I also brought some of your favorite hot chocolate from that little shop down the street.”

Your eyes widened in delight as you left his arms and raced to the kitchen table where he had set the drinks down upon walking in.

He admired your animated form with a lovesick grin. A chuckle left his lips as you burned yourself slightly in your over excitement. “Calm down, it’s hot.”

You gave him a side eye at his teasing smirk, “No shit sherlock.” Rolling your eyes, you gently blow on your drink, before taking a less-burning sip. The liquid’s warmth spread from your mouth through your body. You let your eyes shut in delight, a small hum of approval leaving your lips.

Jamie’s mind became void of anything as he watched your pleasured features. Your tongue darted out to lick a drop off of your parted lips. He swallowed thickly.

“This is the best drink in the world, I swear. And that little shop? God, I don’t know how they do it. I have to get the recipe from the owner.” You set the cup down, walking back to where Jamie remained at the kitchen island. “You know, I just was taking to the owner the other day actually. She was telling me about how her and her wife just got a puppy and they’re super exci-”

You stopped mid sentence as you became aware of Jamie’s staring. “What’s up with you, Jam?”

He shook his head slightly, coming back to reality. “N-nothing. I’m all good, pretty girl.” You raised a brow at him, “Promise. Now, what were you saying about the owner?”

❥.

After finishing your drinks, you and Jamie found yourselves cuddle on the couch binging Christmas movies. With the heat of his body, paired with the soft glow of the tv, you quickly slipped into a welcomed slumber.

Your body slowly began to awake, as you noticed the credits of “Home Alone” were now playing on the screen. Tilting your head, you saw Jamie’s peaceful sleeping face, the deep rise and fall of his chest could be felt beneath you. Although, your movements must have woken him as his hand came up to push your head back to the crook of his neck.

“Ja-”

“Shhhh. Not yet, don’t wanna leave you.”

You forced your head up, causing a deep sigh to leave his mouth. “Oh come on J, it’s already,” You grabbed your phone to check the time, “7:47. All of the Christmas lights are definitely on by now.”

Damn. He was hoping you’d forget that he promised to go drive around looking at lights tonight.

Jamie let another out another sigh. “What if I told you I would rather just lay with you all night instead?”

You looked him dead in the eye with no expression, “If you don’t take me to see Christmas lights, I’ll cry.”

“Fine, fine. Let’s go look at Christmas lights.”

“Yes!” Your face lit up immediately, you scrambling to your feet to slip on your Christmas slippers. You ran to the door to grab the matching pair you had bought Jamie. “Alright, J! Let’s go!”

Jamie just shook his head, chuckling at your antics.

If driving around for hours looking at lights on random houses is what his girl wanted, then thats exactly what his girl was gonna get.

[pinchofhoney]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞

sirius black x reader

world count: 0.7k

warning: none, no use of y/n

summary: In which Sirius doesn't take no as an answer.

a/n: i'm coming back to every one of you with my tail between my legs 🧍🏻 i hope you remember me, but at the same time i will not be surprised if it turns out that you don't know who i am,, after all, i wasn't here for a couple of months. hi, i’m pinchofhoney and i can't promise that i won't disappear again

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: @wolfmoonmusic​ @alexxavicry​ @lonelywitchv2​ 

„Oh, come on, love! Just one! One date, and I promise it'll be the best time you’ve ever had!” Sirius pleaded with an endearing grin, his eyes sparkling with hope.

“Not a chance, Black,” you replied, not taking your eyes off the book you were reading.

The cozy Gryffindor common room embraced you both with its warm ambiance. The crackling fireplace cast a soft glow that danced across the room, filling it with a golden light that made everything seem more enchanting. The flames danced and crackled, creating a mesmerizing display that mirrored the electricity in the air between you and Sirius. The scent of burning wood mingled with the faint aroma of cookies you had before, adding to the delightful atmosphere.

Outside, raindrops tapped rhythmically against the window, a soothing symphony that played in harmony with the crackling fire. It was a comforting sound, like a lullaby that wrapped around you, making you feel at home and secure.

Nestled in your favorite spot, you sank into the plush cushions of the cozy armchair, enveloped in a soft blanket that felt like a warm hug. You were engrossed in a thrilling tale of adventure and romance, but Sirius's presence next to you was a delightful distraction. Every now and then, you stole glances at him from the corner of your eye. His raven-black hair cascaded effortlessly over his forehead, and his eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Pretty please?” Sirius leaned in closer, his voice filled with a playful desperation that tugged at your heartstrings, resting on the backrest of the armchair just inches from your shoulder. He was relentless in his pursuit, but you couldn't deny that you secretly enjoyed the attention. It was as if the Gryffindor common room itself was cheering him on, the very walls seeming to hum with anticipation of what could be.

You pretended to resist, though your heart had already whispered a resounding. The lovely dance of emotions between you both was too magical to end too quickly, and you savored every moment of it.

“No.”

Sirius let out a cute sound of displeasure, hanging his head momentarily. But determination still glimmered in his eyes, undeterred by your playful rejection. He knew that he wouldn't give up easily, not when his heart was set on you.

“And now, please, stop bothering me, Black,” you said teasingly, but the affection in your voice was evident.

“Just a day in Hogsmeade. One day! No,” the boy straightened up, ruffling his hair in an adorable attempt to charm you. His gaze lingered on the back of your head, and then he quickly moved to stand right in front of you, blocking the warmth of the fireplace.

“Not even a day, just an afternoon. Please, we can enjoy a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks and pay a visit at Honeydukes. I know how much you love this place!” he pleaded with eyes that sparkled like stars in the night sky.

A little smile escaped your lips, unable to resist the genuine sweetness in his proposition. Although you had secretly desired to go on a date with Sirius for a long time, watching him try so earnestly brought a delightful satisfaction that only added to the enchantment of the moment.

You raised your eyes to meet his, trying to maintain a facade of indifference. “Will you stop pestering me if I agree to go?”

A shadow of a smile painted itself across Sirius' face, his eyes filled with joy. “I promise,” he replied softly, sincerity lacing his words.

“And I won’t have to go on another date ever again?” you asked, closing the book and giving him your full attention.

Sirius winked playfully, his eyes dancing mischievously. “Well, you won’t have to, but you’ll want to. No one ever goes on just one date with Sirius Black.”

You chuckled, unable to hold back the laughter that bubbled within you. “Oh, really? I guess I'll have to prove you wrong then.”

His grin widened, and he couldn't hide his excitement. “So you'll come?”

You let out a content sigh, surrendering to the warmth of the playful tension between the two of you. "So I will come."

[g-girlshavingfun]

December Prompts

1) Warm Tequila - Abby x Townsend

Set about 5 years after the events of UWS, Abby and Townsend explore the Christmas markets in London. (2,121)

———————————————————————

“What do you think?”

Edward’s gaze, previously locked fiercely on a group of young men armed with black puffer jackets and overpriced beer not-so-discretely leering at any and all women who happened to pass them by, jumped back to his wife at her inquisitive tone.

Blinded momentarily by her smile, he took a moment to simply stare at her. Dark hair half-buried under her woolly hat fell in waves around her face made pale by the cold. The dusting of freckles that decorated her nose and cheeks, the pattern that was engrained in the memory of his lips, that he knew better than he knew the features of his own face, were buried under the redness of her nose, the pinking of her cheeks. Emerald eyes twinkled with mischief, alight with joy and the reflection of the Christmas lights lining the market stall they stood beneath. Her smile spread far beyond her mouth. From the whites of her teeth, ever so slightly crooked in the back of her mouth in a way that no one could see but Edward knew intimately, to the stretch of her lips, chapped from the cold but soft all the same. From the rounding of her cheeks and the scrunching of her eyes, to the giggle in her shoulders and the bounce in her toes. It spread beyond her even, reaching the tips of his tingling fingers and filling his chest with an adoring warmth. Slight lines cut through her face, a lifetime of her smiles carving brackets around her eyes, and more than a lifetime’s worth of pain slicing through the skin above her forehead. She wasn’t quite the 24 year old he met in Barcelona, nor the woman just beginning her 30’s he fell head over heels for in Buenos Aires, but here amongst the London gabble, browsing through tat in Leicester Square’s Christmas market, less than a year from entering her 40’s, he was still absolutely certain of what he first decided all those years ago.

Abigail Cameron was undoubtedly the most gorgeous woman in the world.

Remembering that she asked him a question, he kickstarted his brain back into motion and finally registered the monstrosity she was holding out in front of him. It somewhat resembled a winter hat, though it just as easily could’ve been an overfed cat for all the fur lining the inside. It was a sort of vomit-green colour, equipped with a red bobble on top and matching ear flaps on the sides. Adorning the face of it was the likeness of that thing from the Christmas film Abby loved so much, a similar vomit shade of green with a devilish grin and light-up yellow eyes. The Grinch, he remembered.

Fighting valiantly against the smirk that tugged against his lips, he quirked an eyebrow at her. “You already have a hat Abigail.”

Her grin grew, delighted in his indulgence of her antics. “Not for me silly!” She tapped her card against the reader held out to her by the man working the stand, flashing him a smile that seemed to stun him to the spot.

Edward could empathise.

Reaching upwards, she yanked the garish hat unceremoniously onto his head, adjusting it slightly so  he could still see, and giving his cheeks a patronising pat before her arms settled around his shoulders.

“Absolutely not.”

“C’mon Townsend you need a winter hat. You lose most of your heat through your head you know-

“Actually that study was debunked a few years ago.”

“-and this one suits you perfectly!” It was getting hard to focus on what she was saying. Her fingers were dancing across the back of his neck and playing with the curls of his hair slipping out the back of the hat. “Besides, what would your mother say if she knew you were wandering around in the freezing cold-

“-It’s only 5 degrees love.”

“-freezing, without a hat on?”

“Well she’s from Carlisle, so she’d probably be ashamed that I’m wearing a coat.”

“Yeah I don’t know what that means.”

And then she kissed him.

It was a short kiss - too short - but it made him go weak in the knees, the ankles, the heart, all the same. His hands latched onto her waist and pulled, grunting slightly as she let herself go weightless against him, feeling her smile into his mouth as he lost himself in her. When she moved to pull away, his entire body seemed to chase her. Tightening his arms around her back, arching his neck down towards her face, his nose brushing up against hers in a desperate attempt to keep their lips attached. Laughing, she pulled away anyhow, leaving only her fingers on his shoulders, the tip of her nose against his jaw, her breath sweeping across his neck.

Looking up at him through her eyelashes, she pouted, uttered a single “Please?” and he was gone.

“Fine.”

Anything to get her to kiss him like that one more time. All the time. For the rest of time.

Again, her lips were warm on his, a stark contrast to the state of her fingers now running down his spine from under the collar of his coat. One of his own hands crept upwards, cupping the back of her head and soothing through the silk that was her hair, the other migrating around her back, encircling her in his arms like he could keep her there forever. Cherry danced across his tongue, the scent of jasmine tickled his nose, symphonies of all the sonnets ever written cascaded through his ears. All his senses were engulfed by her. It was all he could do to contain his love, his elation, his-

Giggles broke them apart. Not his wife’s this time, but a trio of preteen girls hovering nearby. Abby turned and smiled kindly at them, no sign of the embarrassment that danced across his own cheeks, and he couldn’t help the bashful smile that broke across his face.

“Ah ha!” Quick as anything, she had pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of his love-stricken grin, ignoring the pained groan that crept out of his mouth. “What? Its just for Zach. And your parents. And maybe Rachel and the girls, they think you never smile you know?” Walking backwards, perfectly navigating the crowds of tourists despite never breaking eye-contact with him, her hands travelled down his arms until they intertwined with his own, pulling him along with her through the market stalls once more.

“As long as Solomon never sees it.”

“Eh, no promises.” Another groan. “C’mon grumpy, you can buy me a drink to cheer yourself up.”

“How will that cheer me up?”

“Because maybe I’ll find a way to pay you back.” With a wink that made his heart stutter and all the blood and heat in his body rush somewhere very not appropriate for their current circumstances, she spun on her heel and tugged him more urgently towards the pop-up bar. “We’re trying the Poppins special.”

Once he regained control of his wits, he glanced up at the menu boards. The usual festive drinks were on offer, mulled wine and cider, Irish coffee and hot chocolates, even Prosecco for those willing to fork out £15 a glass. There were tamer options as well for those less in the Christmas spirit, beer and larger on tap, plus every spirit and mixer known to man, but of course Abby had opted for one of the themed cocktail specials. Cleverly, they had devised a different drink for each of the famous statues dotted around the market, including a kid-friendly option named after Paddington the bear, and Edward quickly focussed his vision on the one named after the illustrious nanny.

“Tequila? Who drinks hot tequila?”

“You in about 5 minutes.” She gave him a gentle push to the middle of his back, tone growing impatient, “Large please.”

“I don’t know why I have to have it as well.” Protesting even as he held out his card to the bartender, nodding in polite acknowledgement of his sympathetic smile. “I’d be much happier with a whiskey.”

“Well that wouldn’t be very Christmassy-“

“Not a word.”

“-yes it is! would it? Besides, you’ll like this.” Abby near-always spoke with confidence, even when she was blatantly wrong and knew it, but her absolute assuredness gave him pause.

He turned to face her, eyebrows furrowing, “How do you know?”

“Uhh because I know you dummy?”

“No, how do you know I’ll like it if you don’t know what it tastes like?” Eyes flickering downward, she bit her lip slightly, humming in thought. Edward huffed in disbelief. Of course she managed to sneak off and treat herself. “When? We’ve been together the entire time?”

“You were very distracted staring at the jewellery over there,” she jutted her head towards the adjacent stall and he followed her gaze. The table was adorned with floral rings and earrings, bracelets and hairpieces, the necklaces displayed behind the woman manning the station. It wasn’t extravagant stuff, though the advertisement claimed they were made of real flowers, and nothing that Abby would ever wear, but while he had already bought gifts for his side of the family, he had little planned for those back home. He had been eyeing a charm bracelet for Cammie, after all these years still uncertain if it was the kind of gift a man bought his niece-in-law-slash-almost-daughter-in-law, and he must’ve been debating it for longer than he thought. Abby’s voice broke through his musings once more. “She’s very pretty isn't she?”

What?

“What- No!” He spun back around to face her, a sliver of panic gripping him as he realised he was staring at the stand, lost in thought, and the woman attending it was smiling back at him. Abby only laughed at him though, throwing her head back and quelling the brief dread of a fight that had started building in him.

Taking her drink from the bartender in one hand, her smile of thanks igniting a flush across the young mans face, her other reached up and threaded through the hair on the back of his neck in apology for her teasing. Retrieving his own drink, he huffed in forgiveness, removing the aforementioned icicles from his neck and placing a small kiss to her fingers as he led them away from the bar.

“How come I get bullied into wearing this hat-“

“I would call it gentle encouragement.”

“—but you’re allowed to lose your fingers to frostbite by not wearing gloves?”

“Because how am I supposed to show this off if I’m wearing gloves?”

Taking a generous drink of the warmed tequila through her smirk, she released his hand to hold her own out in front of them, wiggling her fingers until her ring caught the twinkling of the lights around them. Reluctantly, he conceded the point to her, recalling the number of times today that she had caught the attention of onlookers, their eyes drifting from her face to her left hand in resigned disappointment. Edward could feel his own ring, his most prized possession, cool around his own finger, and smiled. He hadn’t taken it off since he officially stepped out of the field and into a desk position at Langley, his bad knee from all those years ago finally getting the upper hand on him, but the novelty of being married to this woman had yet to wear off.

“Right, bottoms up or whatever.” He rolled his eyes at her attempt at an English accent. “Seriously, just try it.”

In a mirror image of her, he raised the plastic glass to his lips, taking a slow, deliberate gulp.

Bloody hell, he hated it when she was right.

The burn from the tequila was tempered by the warmth of the drink itself, and challenged by the zap  of orange and lemon dancing down his throat. It was thick and had a hint of sweetness, no doubt containing an unholy amount of honey, but the bitterness of aniseed balanced it out well. Hints of cinnamon and nutmeg danced on his tongue, and he was suddenly struck by the question of whether he could taste the spices on hers.

“See, you love it.” Another laugh bubbled out her mouth at his reluctant affirmation, mirth streaking across her face as she shook her head in astonishment. “When are you gonna learn that I’m always right hey?”

Sending another gulp down his throat, he set his drink to the side, grabbing hers while he was at it. Ignoring her protests, he pulled her in by the waist, desperate to learn the answer to his own question. But first…

“I love you.”

He kissed the smirk straight off her face.

———————————————————————

Authors note:

There you go, there’s roughly 2000 words of Tabby fluff and Townsend being a major simp.

Apologies for British nonsense, but unfortunately, much like Edward Townsend, I too am English. For those not cursed with the insider knowledge, Carlisle is a city pretty far north in England, hence being used to the cold, the wind, and the rain. Leicester Square is a square in London near the West End where they have a popular Christmas market every year. It’s next to the cinemas where they hold movie premieres so theres loads of statues of famous British entertainment figures like Paddington, Mary Poppins, and Mr Bean.

[whumpsoda]

malak and nevan should have a playdate with swap!ad and swap!darius >:3…

cw: conditioned/enthralled whumpees

—————

“So…” Nevan started, nervously fiddling with the string of the rug below him as he kneeled before his masters - or, well, not exactly. “You aren’t our Masters?”

Darius - the human - adorned in an outfit with an unusual splash of color that Nevan just couldn’t get over, shook his head. “No, you’re ours.” 

“Mmm… weird.” Adrastus, with a wild clutter of hair and an usually uncoordinated outfit, sat beside Darius on the couch, Malak curled over their lap. He grinned happily as they pet his head and scratched below his chin, purring with pleasant warmth.

“Very.” Darius agreed.

“So… so wherever you live… me and Malak are your masters? Vampires?” Nevan could not only not believe what he was hearing, but also what he was seeing. These people were not his masters, yet they very much were.

Darius nodded curtly. “Right. And here, we’re yours?”

“Yes, sir.” Nevan bit his lip. His head was spinning with puzzlement, his befuddled mind struggling to make sense of what he was being told. “I’m, I’m sorry, I’m still confused. I don’t… understand…”

“Me, neither. Why’s Master all off, and cuddly and stuff?” Adrastus booped Malak softly on the nose, before he lazily did it right back to them in return.

“Master Adrastus likes him that way. They find him cute so, so enthralled.”

“Oh… that makes kinda sense.”

“Why don’t you sit on the couch? Why do you just kneel there?” With his arms crossed and posture perfect as always, Darius looked more like his usual counterpart than before, with his attitude tinged tone.

A shiver of anxiousness swiped down Nevan’s spine. “I’m not allowed to, sir.”

“C’mon. Just do it. I don’t like seeing you down there, it’s just… wrong.” Darius’ face twisted, more with uncomfortableness than the usual disgust.

“I- I can’t, sir, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Master said never, I mustn't.” Nevan insisted, gloved hands curling and digging into his thighs.

“Oh… ‘kay. No need to get so worked up.” 

“I’m sorry, so sorry.”

“It’s fine. Your fine. Nothing to apologize for.” His master would have never said such a thing, he rather enjoyed hearing his thrall apologize and beg at his feet. The sound of kindness in Darius’ voice didn’t quite fit.

A swift period of silence followed, awkward and stuffy. Neither Nevan nor Darius knew much of what to do, Adrastus and Malak only continuing to snuggle with one another.

“Am… am I a nice Master..?” Nevan whispered, before his gaze met with that of Darius’.

“Yeah. I love my Master. He’s fun, sweet, and likes to annoy the hell out of me.” He chuckled softly, a strangely tender smile cupping his cheeks. “He’s… great. Really great. How… how am I as a master?”

Nevan soared just getting the chance to rave about his master, lighting up in excitement. “Oh, wonderful! You let me clean as much as I want to, you let me sleep on the floor with Malak, and you even allow me to do your hair in the mornings!”

Darius’ jaw fell slightly slack, brows furrowing in an emotion of negativity that Nevan couldn’t quite place, and failed to expect. “Oh. Oh.” 

“You’re a splendid master! And, and so is Master Adrastus!” He exclaimed. “How, how is Malak as a master?”

Adrastus whipped around, beaming with a sense of adoration. “He’s wonderful! Just amazing! I love, love, love my master, he’s the best in the whole wide world! He’s kind, and gentle, and cuddly and he spoils me allllll the time with stuff and I love him so much!”

“Really?” 

“Yes, yes, yes!”

Nevan giggled, soft and airy. “My Malak’s like that. He’s just… more sleepy.”

“Yeah, I can tell. He’s so silly! I love him too!” Adrastus raised their voice, the brightest of smiles strung across their lips, one filled with more genuine joy than normal. “I love all the Malak’s!”

“My master’s better.” Darius scoffed, under his breath.

“Nuh uh!”

“Yuh huh.”

——————

Taglist- @softvampirewhump @iys-cloud @battyfantasy @xx-adam-xx @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

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[usoppsstar]

happy christmas, usopp'sstar!

i’ll always remember reading yer story about straw hats as animal crossing players. it made me smile and giggle; they were just so adorable! It brings back such good memories from the pandemic. i wish i could have played with 'em.

i’m excited to read more of your work! av been savouring it slowly cus it can be hard to find cute op stories.

it always brightens my day to see you on my notifications. wishing you a wonderful christmas filled with joy, warmth, and everything you love! keep shining!

-abbie (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )✨

*Weeps*

Happy Holidays stoneaf!🎄🎄🎄

I'm grateful to have met a friend like you this year!｡⁠:ﾟ⁠(⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠)ﾟ⁠:⁠｡ the straw hats as animal crossing players was a fic I was really proud of but didn't get much feedback on, so it makes me happy to know that its a fond memory for you and that you liked it so much(⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ

I remember seeing your notifications more often when Tumblr slowed down for me, you'd always like my little written posts with no tags and a gif, and it always made me happy to see that one of my followers was still sticking around when it felt like all my mutuals and followers had left Tumblr, then you became an incredible mutual that I look forward to interacting with! I hope we stay friends for a long time and that I continue to write content that makes you happy lol

I hope you have a wonderful Christmas and new years too! And I appreciate the kind words you always have to say, the Internet can be an awful place lol but it's incredible when you get to meet people like you🎄🎄🎄

(btw can I call you Abbie now??)

[harryssyndrome]

Backstage To My Heart

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 | 𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈’𝐦 𝐑𝐢����𝐡𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞?

The soft glow of fairy lights cast a gentle warmth across the room, blending with the star-shaped lights that twinkled above Ashley’s bed like a night sky. The walls were a silent testament to years of admiration—posters of Harry and One Direction covered nearly every inch, each capturing a different era of his life. A particular image of Harry, dressed in a white sweater adorned with Mickey Mouse from his L’Officiel photoshoot, his expression both playful and brooding, sat framed on her desk, like a treasured keepsake. Next to it, bottles of Pleasing nail polish and lip balm were carefully arranged, small reminders of the brand he had created, each item a symbol of how connected she felt to his world.

It’s a space that reflects both her passion and quiet yearning, filled with memorabilia and personal touches.

Ashley sits quietly, fingers tracing the edge of a blank, white A4 page. Her heart feels full, almost too full, as if it could burst from the weight of everything unsaid. With a soft sigh, she picks up her pen, glancing one last time at Harry’s smiling face in the frame. Her thoughts race, her mind replaying every precious moment they’ve shared, even the smallest ones, and she begins to write.

“Dear Harry,”

“I still can’t believe it sometimes. That our paths crossed that day—thanks to your sweet little niece. I’ve thought about it so many times, imagined it in so many ways, but never did I believe that it would actually happen. I was just another fan, another face in the crowd. You were always so far away, like the stars—beautiful, untouchable.”

Her hand pauses, and she bites her lip, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions rushing through her. The memory of meeting him that day, his soft smile, his voice—it all feels surreal. She thought she’d collapse from the joy of just being near him. And now, she was going to be a part of his life, even if just in a small way.

She continues to write.

“I only ever dreamt of being one of those people who are lucky enough to spend time with you, to know the person behind the songs, the artist behind the music. But now… now I’m here.I am going to be working with you. Being around you. Talking to you. I never thought that was even possible. This… this is more than I could’ve ever wished for. More than my wildest dreams.”

Her breath hitches as she re-reads her words. Working on Harry’s upcoming album—it was like living in a fantasy she never wanted to end. But with every moment spent together, with every conversation, it became harder to suppress the feelings that had grown since she was a teenager, staring at his posters and imagining a life where their worlds might overlap.

She hesitates again, twirling the pen between her fingers, feeling the weight of her own vulnerability in the words she’s about to confess.

“I just hope I don’t mess things up for us—for you. I know I’m supposed to be professional, to just focus on the music, but it’s hard. It’s so hard when every time I look at you, I feel everything I’ve been holding back. I’ve tried to hide it, but I don’t know how much longer I can.”

Her handwriting grows shakier. She blinks back a tear, but a soft smile forms on her lips. Harry didn’t know, he couldn’t. How could he? She was just one person among millions who adored him. But there had been moments—quiet moments—where she thought she saw something in his eyes, something he was trying to say but couldn’t.

“I’ve loved you since I was 16, Harry. It’s crazy to even write that, but I have. I wonder if you’ll ever feel the same, if you’ll ever see me the way I see you. I noticed today, at our secret spot, that you were trying to say something. I could see it in the way your eyes softened, how your smile faltered just a little. But you didn’t say it, not yet.”

A quiet sigh escapes her as she leans back in her chair, the pen falling from her hand. She closes her eyes for a moment, her mind drifting back to their meeting earlier that day. It had been at their special place, away from the cameras, away from everyone. There was a comfort in the way they sat together, the way he looked at her, almost as if he wanted to reach out and close the gap between them.

“I’ll wait for you, Harry. For that day when you finally say what’s in your heart. I’ll wait for you as long as it takes. I’m yours… forever, even if you were never meant to be mine.”

Her fingers gently fold the letter, carefully placing it inside a drawer as if it holds a part of her soul. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever give it to him, but for now, it exists, just like her love for him—quiet, patient, and unspoken.

Ashley glances around the room one last time, her eyes settling on Harry’s posters, the twinkling fairy lights surrounding them like constellations in the night. She lets out a deep breath, feeling both heavy and light, trapped in a place between hope and uncertainty.

It was finally time for her to sleep. She was going to have a long day tomorrow.

The golden morning light lazily filters through the curtains, bathing Ashley’s room in a soft glow. She stands at her dresser, methodically brushing her hair, the rhythmic motions of the brush calming her slightly. In her reflection, she notices the subtle tension in her own face—her lips pressed into a thin line, eyes a little more tired than usual. She pushes the thoughts of her father out of her mind, focusing instead on the day ahead. Today is important: the audition she’s been practicing for, and later, time with Harry at the studio.

Ashley takes a deep breath, trying to force a sense of control over the morning. As she finishes up, her phone buzzes on the desk, vibrating against a framed picture of her and her mother from years ago. She glances at the screen—her mother’s name flashes across it.

She smiles, feeling a warm sense of familiarity.

“Mum, good morning!” she says brightly, cradling the phone between her shoulder and ear while she packs her bag.

There’s a brief silence on the other end before her mother responds.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

The reply feels off—her mother’s voice lacks its usual lightness. It’s tight, strained, as if she’s trying to keep her emotions in check. Ashley’s hand freezes mid-motion, and she frowns, sensing the tension immediately.

“Mum… what’s wrong?” Her question is gentle but firm. Ashley knows her mother well enough to tell when something is being hidden.

“Oh, nothing, darling. I just wanted to hear your voice. I know you have that big audition today I just wanted to wish you luck, and I didn’t want to disturb you…”

Ashley’s heart skips a beat. The last time her mother called this early was when her grandmother had fallen ill. She swallows, dread creeping in at the edges of her thoughts. She sits down on the edge of the bed, her voice becoming quieter, more insistent.

“Mum, please, just tell me. I can hear it in your voice. Something’s happened.”

There’s a long pause on the other end. Ashley can almost hear her mother debating whether to tell her. Then, her mother’s voice comes back, but now it’s smaller, frail.

“It’s your father, Ashley. Last night, we went to a party together, and he… he embarrassed me in front of everyone. He made a scene.”

The words hit Ashley like a physical blow. She feels her chest tighten as the full weight of them settles in. She takes a deep breath, her grip on the phone tightening.

“What do you mean? What did he do this time?”

Her mother’s voice wavers, breaking slightly.

“He started making these comments about your uncle, my side side of the family—loudly, in front of everyone. People were staring, Ashley. It was humiliating. I’ve dealt with his attitude before, but last night… he was different. Cruel.”

Ashley feels her pulse quicken, anger bubbling up inside her. She closes her eyes, trying to hold back the surge of emotions rising in her chest.

“Mum, I don’t… I don’t get it. Why does he keep doing this? What does he have against Uncle and your side of the family? It’s like… it’s like he’s punishing you for something.” Her voice cracks with frustration.

Her mother is quiet for a moment, then she sighs deeply.

“That’s not all, sweetheart. I found out something after the party. Your uncle’s job—he almost lost it. And it turns out… it was your father. He used his connections to sabotage your uncle’s position.”

There’s silence between them now, thick and heavy, the weight of the revelation settling like a dark cloud over Ashley. Her hands are trembling now, her heart racing in disbelief. She feels hot tears prick at the corners of her eyes.

“He… he did what?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, stunned by the cruelty of it.

“I can’t believe this. Why would he… How could he do that?”

Her mother’s voice cracks with emotion, the pain evident in every word.

“I don’t know, Ashley. I wish I could explain it. He’s always had this resentment towards my family, but I didn’t think he’d go this far. Your uncle doesn’t deserve this. None of us do.”

Ashley stands up, pacing now, her mind swirling with anger, frustration, and sadness.

“Mum, I… I don’t even know what to say. This is unbelievable. I’m so sorry you’re going through this. You don’t deserve any of it.”

“It’s not your fault, love,” her mother whispers, her voice shaking.

“I just didn’t want to tell you, but I couldn’t hide it anymore. Everyone’s tense. Your uncle is devastated. It’s like… everything is falling apart.”

Ashley presses the heel of her hand against her eyes, trying to hold back tears.

“I’ll come by as soon as I can. I promise. I’ll help fix this. We’ll figure it out, Mum.

Her mother sniffles softly.

“Thank you, sweetheart but don’t w-worry okay? You don’t have to come. Just… focus on your day for now. Don’t let this ruin everything. I don’t want you distracted by this during your audition.”

But how could she not be? As they end the call, Ashley remains seated, staring blankly at her phone for several minutes, her heart heavy with the weight of her family’s situation. Her father’s actions feel like a betrayal, not just to her uncle, but to her entire family. It’s like a wound that’s been festering, now wide open.

“Why is he like this?”

She takes a deep, shaky breath, trying to center herself, but the tears come anyway. She wipes them away quickly, trying to gather her emotions. The day ahead suddenly feels like a mountain she’s not sure she can climb.

Still trying to shake off the heaviness of the conversation with her mother, Ashley moves through her room in a haze. She grabs her backpack, throwing in the essentials, but her hands are shaking as she zips it shut. She feels disconnected from the moment, her mind still replaying the conversation, trying to understand how her father could do something so awful.

As she swings the bag over her shoulder, her roommate Rave enters the room, already sensing that something’s wrong.

“Hey… are you okay? You’ve been kind of quiet all morning,” Rave says, her eyes narrowing in concern.

Ashley tries to smile, but it’s forced, the weight of everything too much to hide.

“Yeah, just… had a rough start. Family stuff, you know? It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.” Her voice wavers slightly, betraying her emotions.

Rave raises an eyebrow.

“Nothing? Come on, Ash, I know you. Something’s bothering you. You don’t have to keep it all bottled up.”

Ashley hesitates for a moment, tempted to unload everything that’s weighing on her, but she stops herself. There’s no time, and she doesn’t want to burden Rave with the details. Not now.

“I appreciate it, really, but… I just need to get through the day. We’ll talk later, I promise.” She offers another weak smile before turning toward the door.

Rave watches her for a moment, still unconvinced but not wanting to push.

“Okay. Just know I’m here if you need me. And good luck today, with the audition and everything.”

“Thanks,” Ashley mumbles as she leaves, but the words feel hollow. No amount of well-wishes could shake the dark cloud looming over her.

When she steps outside, the morning air is crisp and cool, a slight breeze brushing past her face. For a second, she closes her eyes and breathes deeply, hoping to clear her head. But when she opens them and looks at her bike, her heart sinks.

The back tire is flat. Completely deflated.

“Of course,” she mutters under her breath, a wave of frustration rising in her chest. She kneels down, inspecting the tire in vain. It’s punctured beyond repair for a quick fix, and she knows she’s running out of time.

Ashley kicks the tire lightly, feeling the growing tension in her body. Every little thing was going wrong today, and it’s starting to feel like the universe is working against her.

“Come on, not today,” she grumbles, standing up and slinging her bag over her shoulder again. Now she’s forced to walk, the minutes ticking away as she calculates how late she’s going to be for the audition. With every step, the frustration builds, bubbling beneath the surface until it’s hard to focus on anything but her mounting anger.

By the time Ashley arrives at the audition venue, she’s late, breathless, and disheveled. She runs a hand through her hair, trying to compose herself, but her mind is scattered. Her father’s betrayal, the stress of her family, the punctured tire—it all swirls in her head, making it impossible to focus.

Inside the waiting area, she sits down, trying to calm her racing heart, but the thoughts won’t stop. She checks her watch again, her foot tapping nervously against the floor.

When her name is finally called, she stands up, her legs feeling heavy as if each step towards the audition room is weighed down by all her emotions. She forces herself to breathe, but it feels shallow, rushed. As she enters the room, she’s immediately hit by the bright lights, the silent, observing faces of the casting directors seated in front of her. Their expressions are unreadable, professional, but intimidating.

The room is suffocatingly quiet, and Ashley can feel the weight of their eyes on her as she steps into the center of the floor. She clears her throat, but it’s dry. Her mind, which had once been filled with rehearsed lines and practiced emotions, is now a swirling mess of family drama, insecurity, and frustration.

“Whenever you’re ready,” one of the casting directors says, his tone neutral but expectant. Ashley’s heart pounds, and she can feel sweat starting to form at the back of her neck.

She opens her mouth to begin, but her voice falters, barely a whisper at first. She pushes through, but her mind is racing, her concentration slipping. Her mother’s trembling voice is all she can hear in her head, repeating the details of the party, her father’s actions, the hurt in her family. Her hands start to shake slightly, and the script she’s memorized blurs in her mind.

Midway through, she completely loses her place.

Ashley freezes. Her breath catches in her throat, and the room seems to close in on her. For a moment, she just stands there, staring at the casting directors, their expectant faces starting to shift into something colder, more critical. The longer the silence stretches, the more panic sets in.

“I… I’m sorry,” she stammers, her voice cracking. She tries to remember where she left off, but her mind is blank. Her chest tightens, and all the frustration she’s been holding in since that phone call with her mother threatens to spill over. She feels tears pricking the corners of her eyes, but she wills them not to fall. Not here.

The casting director closest to her clears his throat, glancing down at his notes.

“Thank you for coming in, Ashley. We’ll be in touch.”

The dismissal is polite but definitive. Ashley feels her heart drop. She nods quickly, biting her lower lip to keep from bursting into tears. As she rushes out of the room, the humiliation burns hot in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

Once outside, the floodgates open. She leans against the wall in the hallway, her legs weak, her hands trembling. Tears flow freely now, and she covers her face with her hands, shoulders shaking as she sobs quietly. Everything feels like it’s falling apart. Her family is in turmoil, her father’s betrayal still fresh in her mind, and now she’s blown the audition she’d worked so hard for.

Her dreams of securing the role feel shattered, and all she can think about is how she’s failed—failed her mother, her uncle, and now herself.

She pulls out her phone with shaky hands, checking the time. Her vision is still blurred with tears, but she manages to see the clock: she’s supposed to meet Harry at his recording studio soon.

The thought of facing him now, after everything, feels unbearable. What if he sees her like this? A mess, a failure? What if she lets him down too, just like she’s let everyone else down today?

Ashley wipes her tears with the back of her hand, her breath still shaky. She knows she can’t avoid Harry, not now. They have work to do, and she can’t let her personal mess spill into their professional life. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself, and forces herself to stand up straight.

“Pull it together, Ash,” she mutters to herself, her voice hoarse.

“Just… get through this. You can fall apart later.”

She adjusts her bag on her shoulder, swiping at her puffy eyes one last time before heading out of the building. Her feet feel heavy as she starts walking towards the studio, but she presses on, determined to face Harry even though the weight of the day still presses heavily on her chest.

Ashley’s stomach churns as she stands outside the recording studio, trying to compose herself. She takes one last deep breath, straightening her shoulders, attempting to shove all the day’s emotional baggage to the back of her mind. I have to get through this. Just be professional, Ash. Don’t let him see… she mentally repeats, trying to calm the storm raging inside her. She wipes at her eyes one last time before pushing the door open, stepping into the studio’s dimly lit hallway.

The faint sound of a guitar riff floats through the air, and for a moment, there’s a sense of peace in the music. But it’s fleeting, replaced by a tightening in her chest as she moves closer to where Harry is waiting.

As soon as she enters the main area, she sees him—Harry, standing near the soundboard, headphones around his neck, his face lighting up the moment he spots her. His hair is slightly messy, the way it always seems to be, and he’s wearing a comfortable yet stylish outfit—nothing too flashy, just Harry being Harry. His smile is wide and genuine, and for a split second, Ashley feels a flicker of warmth. But that warmth is quickly swallowed by the weight of her family’s problems, the pressure of the day.

Harry strides over, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, his energy infectious.

“There you are!” he says, his voice full of excitement. He leans in to give her a quick hug.

“Was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

Ashley forces a smile, but it feels like it barely reaches her eyes. Her arms are stiff as she returns the hug briefly before stepping back, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy.

“Of course not. I could never and I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she says, her voice sounding overly bright, hollow even to her own ears.

Harry steps back and looks at her, his brows furrowing slightly, though he keeps his playful tone.

“You okay? You seem… I don’t know, different. No jumping into a story about your morning? What happened to all the energy?”

Ashley feels her heart sink. She hadn’t realized she was acting that off, but Harry knows her well enough to pick up on even the smallest changes in her behavior. She forces another smile, waving a dismissive hand.

“I’m fine, really. Just had a long morning. Nothing I can’t handle.” She hopes that’s enough to stop him from asking more, but she can see the concern in his eyes as he watches her closely.

Before he can push further, Harry grins and gestures toward the others in the studio, clearly excited.

“Well, come on then. Got some people who are dying to meet you—or meet you again, in some cases.”

Inside the studio, it's buzzing with creative energy. Producers are huddled around soundboards, engineers tweaking levels, and the band is scattered, tuning their instruments. Harry leads her around, introducing her to the team, though Ashley's mind struggles to focus on all the names and faces. She forces a polite smile each time, trying to hide how distant she feels from the moment.

"This is our producer, Tom, he's a genius with sound. And over here, we've got Sarah, the one who'll make sure I don't butcher any of the vocals," Harry says with a chuckle, throwing a playful look at Sarah, who laughs.

"You already sound great, Harry," Sarah teases back.

"And you know Mitch," Harry adds, gesturing to his guitarist and close friend, Mitch Rowland, who grins and gives Ashley a friendly wave.

"Good to have you back, Ash!" Mitch says in his usual laid-back manner, his tone filled with warmth.

"Harry's been talking nonstop about how you're gonna save this album with your brilliant ideas. No pressure, though."

Ashley forces a laugh, but it comes out weaker than intended.

"Yeah, well... I'll try not to let you down." Her voice cracks slightly, but she quickly covers it up with a cough, glancing away before anyone can notice the tears threatening to form.

“You ready to make us all sound better than we actually are?”

Mitch says with a grin, his guitar resting on his knee.

Ashley lets out a small laugh, but it’s weak, barely genuine.

“I’ll do my best,” she replies, hoping that the cracks in her facade aren’t showing as much as they feel like they are.

Harry leads her to a spot beside him near the soundboard.

“We’ve got a couple tracks we’re still fine-tuning, and I thought you might have some ideas to throw in.” He hands her a set of lyrics they’ve been working on.

“No pressure, just… see what comes to you.”

He later brings her over to the soundboard, pointing at the screen as one of the producers plays back a track they’d been working on.

“We were stuck on this verse, and I thought you’d have some killer ideas.” He looks at her expectantly, hope in his voice.

Ashley nods, trying to focus on the music. The melody is beautiful, the lyrics rich with potential, but her mind is a mess, the notes blurring into the background of her thoughts. She listens for a few beats, then tries to add some suggestions.

“Maybe… you could shift this line here? And the melody… could rise a bit more before the chorus kicks in…”

Her voice is unsteady, her suggestions coming slower than usual. Normally, she’d be filled with ideas, excitedly bouncing them off Harry and the team. But today, she can barely concentrate. The weight of her earlier breakdown, the betrayal from her father, and the humiliation from the audition all swirl in her mind, distracting her from the music in front of her.

Harry watches her, his smile softening. He can see it—something is off.

“That’s a good idea,” he says gently, though his eyes remain on her, searching her face. After a pause, he leans in closer, lowering his voice so the others can’t hear.

“Ash, you sure you’re alright?”

Ashley nods, taking the paper and scanning over the words, but the letters seem to blur together in front of her eyes. Her mind, still occupied with thoughts of her mother and father, can’t seem to focus on the task at hand. She bites her lip, willing herself to concentrate. This is what she came here for. To help. To contribute. To be a part of something that mattered to her.

She leans over the table, scribbling down a few notes, offering suggestions here and there, but it’s all surface-level. Her heart isn’t in it, and she knows it. So does Harry.

He leans in closer, lowering his voice so the others can’t hear.

“Are you sure, you’re okay?” His tone is softer now, filled with concern.

“You’re not your usual self today. If something’s bothering you, we can talk about it.”

Ashley forces herself to keep her composure, her heart squeezing painfully at his kindness. She wants to open up to him, to tell him everything that’s weighing her down, but now isn’t the time. Not here, not with all these people around. So she shakes her head, forcing a smile that feels more like a mask.

“I promise, it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Harry doesn’t look convinced, his eyes still scanning her face for answers, but he gives her a small nod.

“Okay,” he says quietly,

“but just… you know I’m here for you, right? If you ever need to talk. About anything.”

His words send a pang of emotion through her chest, but she swallows it down, nodding quickly.

“Yeah, I know. Thank you.” She glances back at the lyrics, desperately trying to refocus her mind.

But it’s no use. The weight of her family’s problems is pressing down on her, her thoughts scattering. When they reach a part of the song that needs a new verse, Harry looks to her for ideas, but Ashley just stares at the paper, her mind blank. The pressure mounts as the seconds tick by, and she can feel everyone’s eyes on her, waiting for her to contribute.

She tries to come up with something—anything—but the words won’t come. Her throat tightens, her hands trembling slightly as she grips the pen. She’s stuck, completely paralyzed by the whirlwind of emotions she’s been trying so hard to suppress.

Suddenly, she feels the burn of tears welling up in her eyes. She blinks rapidly, trying to hold them back, but they come anyway, hot and unwanted. She turns her head slightly, hoping no one will notice, especially Harry. She wipes at her eyes quickly, but a tear escapes, and she can feel the lump in her throat growing larger, threatening to choke her.

Harry notices. Of course he notices. He watches her, concern deepening in his gaze. He reaches out, his hand resting lightly on her arm, his touch gentle but grounding.

“Ash…” he begins softly, his voice filled with worry.

But Ashley can’t look at him. If she does, she knows she’ll break. She takes a deep breath, forcing the tears back down, blinking rapidly.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

“I just… I need a minute.”

Without waiting for a response, she quickly stands up, excusing herself and walking toward the door, her steps hurried and uneven. The tears she’s been holding in finally spill over once she’s out of the room, and she presses her back against the wall in the hallway, her hands covering her face as she sobs quietly.

She hates this. Hates that she can’t hold it together, that she’s letting her personal life bleed into the one place that used to bring her joy. She hates that Harry has to see her like this—weak, broken.

Inside, Harry watches her leave, his heart sinking as he sees the pain she’s trying so hard to hide. He glances at Mitch and the others, sharing a silent understanding with them before quietly slipping out after her.

He finds her in the hallway, leaning against the wall, tears streaming down her face. For a moment, he just stands there, watching her, unsure of what to say. He knows that whatever she’s going through, it’s something deeper than just a bad day. And he wants to be there for her, to help her through it.

Without a word, he steps closer, standing beside her, not pushing her to speak but making his presence known. He mentally debates if he should provide her with some physical support or not without making her uncomfortable but he does it anyway, he gently places his hand on the small of her back. After a few seconds of silence, he speaks gently, his voice low.

“You don’t have to pretend, you know? Not with me.”

Ashley sniffs, wiping her face with the sleeve of her sweater, embarrassed that he’s seen her like this. She doesn’t respond immediately, but after a long pause, she whispers,

“I’m just… it’s been a lot. My family… there’s stuff going on, and I can’t… I don’t know how to handle it.”

Harry nods, understanding, but doesn’t press her for more details. Instead, he offers her a small, reassuring smile.

“You don’t have to handle it alone.”

His words, so simple yet so full of warmth, cut through the fog in Ashley’s mind. She looks up at him, her eyes still red from crying, and for the first time that day, she feels like maybe—just maybe—she doesn’t have to carry all of this by herself.

A/N: here comes another one! I love this sweet and caring side of Harry so much! Well I love everything about but you what I mean! Thx for the love so far lovelies! 💗 see you tomorrow

Like, comment and reblog are appreciated! DO NOT STEAL MY WORK!! I WILL FIND YOU.

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Tag-list: @prettygurl-2009 @sassamanda77 (TAG-LIST IS OPEN) let me know if you wanna be added via comments or DMs

Posted on: October 5th, 2024