#it was not quick i spent like an hour (normal phone art takes me like. 10-20 minutes)

[everyothermouse]

Cringetober day 7: pinterest art base. Original base under the cut!

[zerobasekazuha]

“Shhh quiet we can’t get caught!”

Pairing: AMAB Venture x Fem reader

Warnings: Oral (fem giving) cursing

Genre: Fluff/Smut

A/N: So I came across this tweet in Twitter from the same user who inspired me to do the pizza person Venture. They have such amazing ideas and y’all should def follow the twitter @/staplesquid thank you for the ideas!!

Who told Sloan that this would be a great idea?Oh right, Y/n did. So how did they get stuck in this situation where they are body to body pressed against their best friend in between a very small alleyway with their hand over her mouth? And to top it off with police who are looking for them. Well it started earlier on that day..

Y/n was an artist. They used many different materials and techniques. Her art style changed ever so often. This point in time it was graffiti. She brought multiple cans in different colors. She researched spots in town and even asked around on online forums and eventually came across the perfect spot. However it was in one of the most crime ridden spots in the city. And with no other choice she contacted Sloan to come with her.

Sloan just finished in the shower their hair was dripping wet as the windows and the mirror was fogged up. They noticed their phone light up, quickly turning down the music they had blasting then right back up to the main volume. It was a text message. They took a quick glance at it only reading the words city and alone.

It alerted them and they quickly picked up their phone trying not to drop it in the toilet as well before opening it and reading over the text. They took a sigh of relief when they read the entire text. Y/n asked if they wanted to go to a certain part of the city together because she didn’t want to go alone. They quickly sent a text saying that they would and they would be finished getting ready.

Y/n told them to wear baggy clothing and that she had a gas mask for them. And soon enough there they were taking the number 67 bus down to the worst part of the city. They looked unsuspecting enough. Two people wearing baggy clothing, one with a larger tote bag and the other carrying yet a smaller one. Both however wearing black masks. Any normal person would think they were a couple. Eventually they got off at a stop down the street from where the location was.

It seemed to be a poverty stricken street. There were deteriorating homes and people sleeping outside. Depressing to look at. The streets were also a mess with all kinds of trash around. Sloane looked at Y/n and wondered why the hell she was bringing them out here. “So…Sketchy part of town…? Going to explain why we’re out here?” They asked not knowing what was even in her tote bag.

“You know how I mentioned I wanted to do something new with my art?” Y/n asked smiling at them. They nodded wondering what point she was getting at. “Well we’re going to do some graffiti.” She said quieter than before. Sloan was completely surprised. They didn’t expect this from her. Especially considering that graffiti was a crime in their city. They continued walking with Y/n with their heart pounding in their chest as it progressively seemed to get darker.

The two ended up at an abandoned subway. Ever since the city built new lines older ones like these got left behind to just deteriorate. Little did they know the cameras were still in tact. Walking past all the other pieces if art Y/n stopped them at a close enough blank canvas. She set down her tote bag and the cans seemed to clatter inside as she opened the zipper.

“Take this.” She tossed Sloan one of the gas masks. Making sure that they changed the masks in the dark so nobody could suspect the two. After she turned on the flashlight. Pointing it at the canvas. “So take a can and go nuts.”

They spent around an hour doing what they could all the different colors and layers. Eventually it was an outstanding piece of art that differed all the others there. While Sloan drew mini stick figures. Sloan stood back to admire the painting of what had been made. “You’re such a great artist! How did you ever think of that!?” Y/n smiled under her mask. “Oh just some inspiration.”

But their time to bask in the art was limited. They could hear police sirens in the background. Then footsteps and the sound of a radio got closer and closer. The two ran off, leaving behind the extra spray cans and the flashlight and only took the empty tote bags with them.

The police chased after the two not too close behind them but not to far as well. Sloan hadn’t felt the first rush of adrenaline in forever. They kept running and running turning corners and going any direction to loose them. Sloan then found an alleyway and pulled Y/n in there with them. Pressing their bodies right next to each other and with them covering her mouth.

And that’s how they got there. The two were slowing their breathing as the police walked down close to where they were. She almost began to panic. Sloan could feel it with how she was beginning to hyperventilate. Sloan leaned down to reach her ear. They whispered in it because the last thing they wanted was a felony for abstracting federal property. “Calm down. Hush be quiet before we get caught.” They said slowly but also almost sweet like honey.

Y/n listened to them fixing her breathing and just resting against them. But feeling how close Y/n was to them was so…addicting to them. Of course she’s sat on their lap before when needed but this was different. This was the worst time to be getting aroused but they almost couldn’t help it. They thought only for a split second how sexy it would be to do what they wanted there while also hiding out away from the police. Public indecency and defacing federal property didn’t sound like two terrible charges to them.

Sloan had to think straight. They shook their head as the gas mask rested against their neck. They must have taken it off when they ran. They were thinking about her, until she seemed to be moving against them. Knocking them out of their slight daydream. The friction Sloan was feeling made them clench their jaw just slightly. “What are you doing?!” They whispered trying not to enjoy how it felt.

“It’s just a tight squeeze. My legs are falling asleep.” She whispered back trying to get comfortable. The police footsteps getting closer. She stopped moving, feeling something rest against her. She looked back at Sloan in the darkness. “Really? Now?” She whispered to them. Sloan blushed trying not to look back at her.

“I can’t help it!” Sloan whispered. They covered her mouth once again as they heard the footsteps get closer. Walking right past them. She squirmed in front of them almost on purpose feeling how much harder them seemed to get. In Sloans mind they could only wonder what she was doing to them? Was this to tease them on purpose?

The police seemed to get only slightly farther before stopping and having a conversation. “Those damn kids. Those little fuckers do this all the time. We ain’t gonna catch one.” Said one of the officers kicking a rock into the distance. “Let’s go back to the station. They need to hurry up and demolish this piece of shit so we don’t have to keep going down here.” The other said. Eventually the footsteps and the radio chatter faded. And now it was only the two of them left.

Y/n managed to turn around to look at them. “Okay their gone we should-“ Sloan kissed her. One hand on her waist and the other on the wall to support them. Y/n was surprised but kissed them back. Once Sloan broke away they looked down at her, loosing all sense of rational thought. “No you don’t get to go just yet.”

“W-what but the cops-“ “I don’t care about the cops they’re gone now. You don’t get to do that and act all innocent.” “Do what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Very clear lie from Y/n. She knew she was lying. Something about seeing their best friend try to hold back from her is arousing to say the least. In her opinion.

“So how about I show you because you don’t know.” Sloan took her hand pressing it to the bulge that seemed to be proud in front of the cargo pants they wore. Y/n looked down at it then back up at them. “So what?” She asked almost hoping they would give her the green light to do something about it.

“Well genius, you dragged me out here, nearly got both of us a felony…a misdemeanor couldn’t hurt.” Y/n looked around it was dark, nobody would catch them but public indecency isn’t just a misdemeanor. “You mean us being put on a list?” “Oh right. Well it won’t happen if we don’t get caught. You just have to stay quiet.”

It didn’t take long for Sloan to kiss her again, this time much more passionate and deeper. Almost like they were yearning for her all this time without saying anything. But there was something else underlying in the kiss. It was hunger. Their hands first rested on her waist, however they could feel hers pulling them closer in the already cramped alleyway.

Sloan wasn’t even sure they could fully go through with anything here but anything is possible. They had to rush however, it was getting darker and darker and they wouldn’t want to miss the last bus that ran in this area. They could feel Y/n wrap her fingers around their belt loops, unbuttoning the front of their cargos and sliding it down their legs. Sloan almost was at a loss for words.

Feeling her hand palming their boxers made them sharply inhale, their head tilting back against the wall. They were too in bliss to realize that instead of her hand they felt her lips around the tip of their cock.

Each second that passed feeling Y/n take more of them down her throat, the saliva running down the side of her mouth as she looked up at them in the darkness. Sloan grabbed the top of her head squeezing her hair feeling each movement of her tongue on them.

Sloan bit their lip to prevent themselves from moaning. They didn’t want to make more noise than they were supposed to. They took sharp breath before looking down at her, their eyes almost showing how desperate they were. With each moment that passed the closer they got to their release. Almost like it was within grasp.

“Oh please I-I’m going to-“ Y/n pulled back using her hands as she heard Sloan. They couldn’t stop themselves as they came on her hands. They tried to catch their breath as she looked at the mess on her hands.

“So uh…again at my place?” Sloan asked as they walked out the abandoned station together, going back to the bus stop to wait for the next bus. “I don’t see why not.” She added smiling at them before the bus pulled up.

This came out extremely late but I had severe writers block and I had to use that time to do other hobbies. But it’s here like I said it would be!!

[lemoncrushh]

Tattooed Heart - Part VI

SUMMARY: You are a cocktail waitress at a swanky lounge. Harry comes in one night, and you instantly dislike him. But another encounter eventually changes your opinion.

PAIRING: Waitress Y/N x Artist/Tattoo Artist Harry

TROPES: Enemies to Lovers

MUST BE 18+ TO READ

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

STORY PAGE

“Hey, gorgeous! How are you? I’ve been so worried about you!” John exclaimed enthusiastically into the phone.

“I’m pretty good, actually. How are things at Zelda’s?” While you didn’t necessarily want to know the answer, you’d always considered John a friend and knew he had your back. Which was why you decided to give him a call.

“Oh girl, things have changed dramatically since you left!”

“Really?”

“Yes! We got a new manager. His name is Rafael, but we’re allowed to call him Rafi. He’s a dish and a half, let me tell you! Not like that last asshole.”

You chuckled. “Good, I’m glad for you.”

“Yeah, sucks for you though! If only you could have stayed. Hey, want me to put a good in for you with Rafi?”

“Um…no, that’s okay, John. I’m kind of happy where I am.”

“Seriously? Where’s that?”

You told your friend about working at the cafe. Then proceeded to tell him how Harry got you the job.

“To make a long story short,” you said, trying to do just that, “he’s not the jerk he appeared to be. And…well…now we’re dating.”

“Hold up! Stop right there. Rewind! I need to hear everything, Y/N! EVERYTHING!”

You laughed at the way John enunciated every syllable. And you’d expected as much. For the next hour, you went into every detail with him like he requested (at least as much as you were willing to divulge), and by the time you finished, it was time to get ready for your date with Harry.

“Oh my God, girl, that’s so crazy!” squealed John. “But I’m happy for you. If you’re happy.”

“I am.”

“Good. Just don’t forget about me, okay? Pop in some time, maybe with Handsome.”

“I will,” you promised.

After pulling on a pair of jeans and a stylish top, you brushed your hair and touched up your makeup. You were meeting Harry at his place, where he was making you dinner again, and then you were going to a movie. It seemed to be the first Saturday you were both off since you’d met. And you were looking forward to having a normal, mundane date night.

The last couple weeks had been both hectic and amazing. Since that evening at the gallery, Harry had been extremely busy finishing up his moon series paintings. Donovan McNulty had still been showing interest in Harry’s art, and specifically voiced that he wanted to know the minute his newest pieces would be available. And you’d been picking up extra shifts at the diner to make a little extra money. But any moment you were both free had been spent together. You took turns, rotating your visits at each others’ apartments. You enjoyed leaning against his kitchen counter while you watched him cook, and Harry enjoyed teasing Shae when she was around, and nibbling on the soft spot behind your ear as you watched TV when she wasn’t there - and sometimes when she was.

Your feelings for him were growing daily, and while you told yourself it was still too soon to have such feelings, you used your free time away from him to write them down. You expressed every emotion from the way your heart skipped when you’d see him sitting in his usual chair at the cafe, to the way your body ached for him as you laid in your bed staring at the ceiling. You even included the way it had felt when you’d seen Nicolette at the cafe and at the gallery, even though Harry assured you tenfold that he had broken off all contact with her. You didn’t want to be jealous of his ex. You knew deep down that it would not bode well if you were going to take this relationship to the next level. And you definitely wanted to.

Harry greeted you with a smile as he opened the door, a glass of wine already in his hand waiting for you. When you stepped inside, you gave him a quick kiss before accepting the glass and taking a sip.

“Mmm, something smells yummy!,” you commented, turning for the kitchen.

“Chicken Piccata with roasted radicchio and sweet potatoes,” Harry announced proudly as he followed you. “It’s almost ready.”

“Chef Styles, when are you opening your own restaurant? This is way too impressive for just me.”

“You’re the only one I care to impress,” he said, pushing your hair from your neck to softly brush his lips across your tender flesh.

You reached behind you for his hands, bringing his arms around your waist. He hummed against your skin as he gave you a squeeze. The timer on the oven sounded then with a friendly chime, and Harry hesitantly released you in order to remove its contents. Watching him serve up the meal, you joined him at the table with your wine.

“I have some news,” he announced after you’d taken your first bite and raved about its deliciousness.

“Oh? What is it?” you asked enthusiastically.

“I’m having another gallery showing. For the moon series.” Harry stabbed his fork into his chicken before lifting his eyes to you.

“Are you kidding? That was quick!”

“Well, yeah,” he grinned. “I brought them yesterday for Sherrod to see. Apparently he phoned McNulty, gave him some rubbish about how brilliant they are, and he’s flying down Thursday to see for himself.”

Quickly dismissing the fact that he’d degraded his own art, because you knew he didn’t really think it was rubbish, you focused on the positive.

“Oh my God, Harry! That’s wonderful! I’m really proud of you.”

“I know, babe. And I appreciate all the support you’ve given me. You'll never know how much.”

“I have an idea,” you jested. “You spoil me with this delicious food.”

“That’s just because I can,” he winked. “And because I want to. It’s not a payment.”

“Good to know,” you said before popping a bite of sweet potato in your mouth.

“I would like your help with something, though.”

“Sure, anything.”

“Could you help spread the word about the exhibit?” Harry requested. “Maybe invite some friends? The more the better. The cocktail party was nice, but I’d like it to be a massive event.”

“Ooh, yes! I’d love to!”

Rising from your chair, you reached over the table to plant a kiss on Harry’s lips, to which he happily accepted.

“When would you like to get your tattoo?” Harry asked as you laid twisted in the sheets, his bare thigh crossed over yours, his fingertips tracing nonexistent lines down your arm.

You turned your head to the side to look at him. If it was possible, he appeared even more beautiful than ever, his eyelids heavy, his pillowy lips swollen, his scruffy jaw threatening to produce more facial hair now that the morning was nigh. The evening of lovemaking had been blissful, Harry having brought you to orgasm not once, not twice…but three times. And while you worried you’d never walk again, the man beside you looked completely fucked.

You couldn’t help but be elated by the knowledge that you’d made that happen.

“I’m not sure yet,” you whispered, reaching for his stubbly chin. “Soon, I guess.”

You felt Harry breathe out of his nose, and while he tried to hide it, you could detect the frown on his lips.

“Do you not want it?” he inquired after a beat.

“I…no, I do,” you nodded.

“‘Cause you don’t have to get it,” Harry added. “The one I designed, or any other one. If you don’t want a tattoo, it’s fine. I’ll understand.”

“No, I want one.”

Harry continued to draw his finger down your arm. You could tell the conversation wasn’t over, but you were unsure what else to say. So you let Harry gather his thoughts instead. Finally he sighed, his gaze returning to your face.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“What for?” you asked.

“If I made you uncomfortable. It just dawned on me that I might have been a bit presumptuous with the tattoo. I know they can be very personal, and I…I should have just let you pick what you want.���

Blinking, you rolled over onto your side to face him. “Harry, no. That’s not it at all. I love the one you designed. I told you I loved that painting.”

“Then what is it?” Harry lifted a hand to brush your hair from your face, twisting the end of the strands between his fingers. “Any time I bring it up, you kind of hesitate or change the subject.”

“I…I didn’t realize,” you looked down at his chest. “I apologize.”

“Baby, look at me,” he insisted, urging your chin up. “Talk to me. Are you af-”

You stopped him mid-sentence with your finger on his lips. As you shook your head, Harry chuckled. Then tugging on your wrist, he released your hand from his mouth.

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say,” he remarked.

“Just don’t use that word.”

“Alright,” he softened his expression, returning his fingers to your hair. “Am I moving too fast for you? Is that it?”

You gulped and sucked in your lips. Then you let out a nervous chuckle of your own. “It seems ridiculous to admit that after what we just did.”

“Not really,” Harry shook his head. “Sex can be separate from feelings. Although…I’m going to confess right now…for me…it’s not. Not with you.”

“Harry…” you breathed.

“Babe…” he murmured, pulling you closer. “I reckon I’ve conveyed my feelings for you already…at least a little bit. But if you need me to back off…I will.”

You stared at him, this gorgeous man. You couldn’t believe in just a few weeks you’d gone from hating him to…whatever this was.

“No,” you argued. “I don’t want you to.”

“No?”

“No, because…I’m feeling…things too.”

Harry’s voluptuous mouth curved into a sexy grin. You felt his hand on your back, his fingers dancing up your flesh.

“I’m just…a little hesitant, I guess,” you added, “about getting the tattoo…because it’s such an intimate thing to do, you know? To get ink on my skin of something you gave me, art you designed for me. And it’s…forever.”

Harry blinked slowly with a nod. “I completely understand, love. I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

“You didn’t. It’s just me. Like you said, it’s personal. And I would feel horrible if something happened between us, and-”

“Shh, baby…” Harry interrupted you this time. “It’s okay. I get it. Take all the time you need.”

You gave him a gentle smile before he pulled you into a deep kiss. Your eyelids heavy, and sleep threatening to take over, you tugged on the sheets. Getting the hint, Harry grinned, situating the covers over you before reaching for the lamp.

“Goodnight, baby,” he whispered. “Sweet dreams.”

You hummed in agreement as he held you against his warm body, and before you could even think any more about tattoos, you were sound asleep in his arms.

The rest of Sunday and most of Monday was spent making phone calls. You promised Harry a grand party, and you were determined to deliver. After telling Shae your plan, she was more than happy to come through by offering to tell her coworkers as well as some of your mutual friends. You called John to let him know as well, and he said he was already going to ask for the night off, and maybe even bring Rafi with him…if he was available, as he put it. You also called the gallery Monday morning, unbeknownst to Harry, to speak with Sherrod yourself. He told you how excited he was for Harry’s new exhibit, which put your mind at ease a bit.

“I really want this to be special for him,” you explained. “Is there anything I can do to help? To get the word out? More advertising? Do I need to hire a caterer or something?”

“Don’t you worry about a thing, darling,” assured Sherrod. “I’m already having my secretary making contacts as we speak. And I personally phoned my caterer on Friday.”

“Oh, fantastic,” you said. “The more people we can get to come, the better. There’s just one thing…”

“Don’t worry about that either, my pet. You have my word Miss Waters will not get an invite.”

“Ohh. For some reason I thought…” you chuckled nervously. “I don’t know how art galleries work, forgive me.”

Sherrod laughed heartily through the phone, catching you off guard. “Nothing to forgive, darling. Harry and I have already spoken about this as well.”

You breathed through your nose. Of course they had.

“Thank you, Sherrod. I appreciate everything.”

“It’s going to be a splendid night, you can be sure!”

Hanging up, you felt a heavy weight lift off your chest. It was quickly replaced with a glittery excitement. You couldn’t wait.

When you arrived for your mid-day shift at the cafe, you made a beeline for Jill who was making a cold brew for a customer. The look on her face when you told her the news about Harry’s exhibit was priceless.

“Of course I’ll be there!” she squealed. “Are you kidding me?”

“Bring some friends too, okay? I want to show him all the support we can give.”

That night, you sat in front of the TV writing in your journal. You soon found yourself mindlessly doodling in the corners of the page. Harry was at work, and you didn’t want to bother him. Yet you couldn’t stop thinking about him. He truly had been the only thing on your mind all day.

“Pppfff, more like for the last month,” you admitted out loud.

Tossing your notebook to the side, you leaned back on the couch and ran your fingers through your hair, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Jesus Christ, what am I doing?”

Getting up from the sofa, you slipped on your shoes, not bothering to change out of your lounge-at-home outfit - a dark green tunic and black leggings. The only effort you made was to brush your teeth and touch up your lip gloss before heading out the door.

The neon sign in the window seemed to glow brighter than you remembered, an enticing greeting to lure you in. Not that you hadn’t already planned to go inside.

Swinging the door open, you noticed an empty waiting area and counter. Smooth, instrumental jazz played through the speakers as you peeked your head through the doorway to scan the tattoo stations, but still saw no one. You were just about to walk through the shop to Harry’s office when you saw Kyle emerge.

“Oh, hey,” he grinned. “You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yes,” you nodded, happy that he knew. Surely he didn’t remember you from the last time he’d seen you in the shop, but perhaps Harry had told him about you and he put two and two together. The idea made you blush a little.

“Harry’s in the back. I’ll go get him for you.”

Before you could retort, Kyle disappeared through the doorway from which he’d just appeared. And within seconds, your handsome, cheery boyfriend replaced him.

“Hi, babe!” he beamed. “What are you doing here?”

You shrugged, shyly. “Came to get my tattoo.”

His eyes widening, Harry stepped closer to you. “Really? Are you sure?”

Licking your lips, you nodded. “Positive.”

His dimples on full display, Harry pulled you into an embrace. You could feel his heart beating in his chest as he whispered in your ear. “I’m so happy.”

Then stepping back, Harry gestured toward his station. “Go ahead and have a seat. I’ll get everything ready and tell Kyle he can go home.”

“Oh!” you mouthed, surprised. Harry disappeared into the back room again before you could argue.

Situating yourself in Harry’s chair, you gazed at the art on display around his station as well as photos of various clients’ tats. While a few pieces looked to be fairly common, most of them were exquisite, no doubt one-of-a-kind works of art. You were staring at a large dragon piece on someone’s back when you heard a voice behind you.

“Bye, Y/N,” Kyle called. “Have a nice night.”

“Oh, thanks. Same to you,” you waved just as Harry walked up.

“You didn’t have to make him leave,” you said under your breath. “You’re not closed yet, are you?”

“I am now,” Harry wiggled his brows before walking to the front door and locking it, turning the OPEN sign to the CLOSED side.

With pursed lips, you tried to hold back a smirk as Harry returned, his own smirk tugging on his mouth.

“Slow night?” you inquired when he sat down on his stool.

“You would not believe. That’s why we were in my office. Kyle helps me with my website.”

You hummed in acknowledgement as you watched Harry get his tray ready just like he had the day you’d brought Shae. That already felt like a lifetime ago.

“You always surprise me with your music choices,” you commented as you listened to the soft jazz.

Harry chuckled with a nod. “This is my focus, slash wind-down music. Since it was slow, I switched it from grunge whilst we worked on the website.”

“I like it,” you grinned.

Harry gazed up at you from under his lashes before his eyes roamed down your body. You felt a tingle as his gaze made its way back up to your face.

“What?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“Was just recalling the last time you were sat in this chair.”

“Oh my God, Harry,” you blushed. “Please tell me you sanitized it!”

His eyes squinting as he giggled, Harry scooted closer to you. “You’re too much, babe.”

“Why, because I like cleanliness?”

“No, because that’s your first thought. It certainly wasn’t mine.”

You stared into his jade eyes that were now inches from your face, the irises appearing to have a dark line around them.

“That was…um, some kind of night,” you murmured softly.

“Indeed, it was.” Harry’s hand landed just above your knee then before he slid it slowly up your thigh.

“Hmm,” you nodded. “Are you trying to seduce me again?”

Harry puffed out a chuckle. “No. Don’t reckon I had to try then either.”

Dragging your tongue across your teeth, you focused on his mouth and the way his hand felt on your leg. “Fair enough. What do you remember most about that night?”

“How sweet your pussy tasted on my tongue,” he quickly replied, as if he’d had his answer ready before you’d even asked the question. “And how you tugged on my hair and your thighs trembled as you called my name.”

“Harry…”

“Oh, it was much louder than that.”

You blushed again, but this time you didn’t bother hiding it. Leaning towards you, Harry placed a soft kiss on your lips. Followed by a second, and a third. By the fourth, your fingers were in his hair, his tongue in your mouth. You reveled in the sensation, urging him with your own. When a gentle moan escaped your chest, Harry’s hand that had been on your thigh made its way between your legs. You began to grind against him in your seat, knowing your leggings and panties were already soaked through. His other hand traveled underneath your t-shirt, and when his fingers met your bare skin, you gasped.

“Are you…,” you gulped, “planning to eat me out again on this chair?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, a devilish smirk on his face.

“Oh.”

“I have other things in mind,” he added, echoing the exact words he’d said to you that night before taking you home.

“Oh…”

Harry sat back on his stool and raised a brow. “I thought you wanted a tattoo, love.”

“Harry Styles! Are you teasing me?” you exclaimed.

Giggling with glee, you noticed his eyes dancing. “Maybe.”

“Rude!” you frowned, tugging your shirt down. Your pussy still throbbing from his hand, you pouted.

“I’m sorry, baby. It’s my fault. Seeing you in this chair…it turned me on, and I got carried away. I do want to play. But I think we should get started on this tattoo, don’t you? It’s gonna take a bit.”

You nodded with a sigh. “Okay.”

Harry gave you a peck on the nose and one on the lips. “Now, did you decide where you want it? The ink, I mean,” he smirked.

“So, I had considered getting it on my side, like down my hip. There’s plenty of room to make it big. But then I changed my mind.”

“Too much?” Harry asked.

“Nope. Not enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nobody’s gonna see it there. Except you. And while the idea is sexy, I’d rather have the art my boyfriend designed to be in a spot everyone could see.”

“Baby…” Harry breathed, his hand over his heart.

“I know, I’ve been hesitant about this,” you explained. “About us. But I have no clue why. We’ve spent all this time together. You’ve shown me time again that you’re interested in more than just…a fling. Every time I’m with you, I feel butterflies and moonbeams and…all the cheesy things.” You let out a nervous sigh as you looked down at your hands, then back up to his gorgeous face. “The truth is…I’m crazy about you, Harry.”

“Sweetheart,” he cried, pulling you into another kiss. Then leaning his forehead against yours he murmured, “You make me so happy.”

“Good,” you grinned, your right hand on his cheek as you held out your left. “That’s why I think we should put it right here, below my elbow, down the inside of my arm.”

“I think that would be lovely,” he agreed, misty-eyed. Then he kissed the inside of your wrist before rising from his stool. “Let me go get the stencil, and I’ll be right back.”

When he stepped away, you suddenly felt butterflies in your tummy, and not just from the notion of getting a tattoo. You’d almost told him more than you’d planned. The truth was, you weren’t just crazy about him. You were falling for him. Hard. Perhaps you had been falling bit by bit every day. And you were finally willing to admit it to yourself. But you weren’t quite sure yet if you were ready to say it to him. It still felt too soon. But you loved the look on his face when you’d revealed what you had. His delight gave you hope that perhaps he felt the same.

Harry returned with a big smile on his face. Placing the stencil next to him, he pulled on his gloves. Then reaching for the rubbing alcohol and a cotton pad, he eyed you.

“Still wanna do this?” he asked.

“Definitely,” you beamed.

Taking your arm, he gently rubbed the soaked cotton pad down your arm, from the elbow to your wrist. Then he took a new disposable razor and gently shaved the area, just like you’d seen him do on Shae, back when you still hated him. The idea brought a sour taste to your mouth.

“You okay?” he asked again.

“Yeah, sorry. Was just…thinking.”

“About?” Harry raised a brow.

“How far we’ve come in just a short time.”

Harry’s face softened. “I think about that a lot.”

“You do?”

“I thank my lucky stars every fucking day that you forgave me. That you were able to see the real me and change your mind. I only wish…”

“What?” you asked.

His gaze seemed to burn into you as he looked deep into your eyes. “I wish we had met some other way. Like some random day at the cafe, or maybe here when you’d come with Shae. Or maybe even at Zelda’s on a night I was alone. Some other way that you could have met the real me instead of that prick I pretended to be.”

You sat in silence as you absorbed Harry’s words and watched him place the thermal paper on your arm with the stencil. When he peeled it off was when you spoke.

“What would you have said?”

“When?”

“If we had met in a different situation. What would you have said to me?”

“In which scenario?” he smirked.

“Let’s go with the first one. Obviously I wouldn’t be working at the cafe. But let’s say I came in one day that you were sitting there working on your iPad.”

Harry chuckled loudly, catching you off guard. “Well, I can’t really say for sure, can I? There are other factors involved.”

“Alright,” you agreed. “But you said you’ve thought about it. What happens in your…wish?”

You swore you caught a tiny bit of color in his cheeks as Harry pulled his tray closer to him. “We have to get serious now, babe. I’m about to stick a needle in your arm.”

You puffed out a breath in humor, then sat up straight in your chair. “Fine. Mark me.”

Harry’s nostrils flared as he chuckled at your joke. Then he made a few adjustments to his tattoo gun before getting to work. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as bad as you thought it would. You watched as Harry traced the stencil, starting with the dripping moon at the top. After every stroke, he would wipe your skin. He seemed so focused, so gentle. You stared at his face for a little while, and every time he’d bite his lower lip, it sent your heart all aflutter. When he finished the outline, he looked up at you.

“Still doing okay?”

“Mmhmm,” you nodded.

He gave you a smile before returning his focus to your arm. You were both quiet for a moment until he spoke again.

“I probably would have stared at you for a bit.”

“Huh?”

“At the cafe. If you had been sat near me at a table by yourself. I would have kept sneaking glances at you, but making sure you didn’t notice.”

“Well then, how am I supposed-”

“At first,” he interrupted. “Then I would have wanted you to notice. When we finally made eye contact, I’d have smiled at you.”

Lifting his head, Harry gave you just the smile he was referring to. And your insides ignited.

“I would say that’s very cheesy and cliche, but it’s not. I like it.”

“So what would you have done if I’d come over to your table and asked you your name?”

“I would have told you, and hoped to God you’d ask me for my number too.”

“Alright then,” Harry snickered. “That’s one scenario. But it didn’t happen.”

“It’s fine, Harry,” you said. “Something else happened instead. And we’re here anyway.”

“Yes, we are.”

You watched Harry continue on the tattoo, the moon starting to look realistic with the shading. As always you were in awe of him and his talent. Just like when you would watch him work at the cafe, you found yourself completely mesmerized. It was utterly sexy to you, from the way he focused on his project at hand, to the curls that framed his face and neck, and even down to the way his own tattooed arms flexed as he worked. As you studied him you let out a deep breath, feeling the wetness pooling in your panties again.

“Still okay?” Harry suddenly asked with a tiny smirk, as if he’d noticed.

“I’m wonderful,” you answered dreamily.

“You need to move your elbow a little?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” you nodded as Harry sat back to let you. Your arm had been in one position for a while, and you were starting to feel the effects.

“Okay, I’m good,” you commented as you reached your arm out again. “Tell me about your next project. What are you working on?”

“Just a second,” Harry muttered. As he scooted closer again, you wondered what he was doing until he beckoned you with his gloved hand. “Kiss me.”

You grinned widely before you happily obliged, giving him a few more kisses than he’d asked for just for good measure.

“Mmm, thanks babe. It’s hard to be around you for this long without touching your lips.”

“You’re welcome. And you’re the sweetest.”

With a wink, Harry returned to his task, this time moving onto the shading of the heart. “I actually haven’t started anything new yet,” he replied to your previous inquiry. “With the moon series now at the gallery, I’ve kind of been trying to finish up some older pieces.”

“Oh? I didn’t know you had anything that was incomplete.”

“Yeah. You saw the citiscape one, right?”

“Yes, that was gorgeous! That wasn’t finished?”

“Not yet. I keep feeling like there’s something missing, but…I dunno. I’m also not sure if I want it to be a series or a stand alone piece.”

“Well, whatever you decide, I know it’ll be amazing. As always,” you offered emphatically.

“Thanks, babe. This is why…” he left his thought unfinished as his tattoo gun rounded the edges of the heart.

“Why what?”

Harry lifted his head, giving you an easy grin. “Why you’re a wonderful lady.”

You watched Harry finish the heart on the tat while you thought your own heart could burst. You thought he was going to say it for a second, but you understood why he hadn’t. It seemed like such a mundane moment to express those three words.

Changing the subject, Harry chatted with you lightly about the upcoming exhibit, about the cafe, about food. You told him about your pal John, and how he was planning to come as well as Jill and Shae.

“Thanks again for doing this for me, babe,” he grinned. “I truly appreciate you.”

“Of course, Harry. I honestly think I’d do just about anything for you.”

Raising his eyebrows, Harry gave you a sexy look before quickly looking back down at your arm. “I think we’re done, babe.”

“Oh. Oh!” You tore your eyes from his to gaze down at your new tattoo. It was extraordinary to say the least.

“It’s…so beautiful, Harry,” you choked. “I love it!”

“It’s yours,” he commented. “And only yours.”

Your eyes began to well up with tears, making your vision too blurry to even see it. But you knew he was right. You had a one-of-a-kind Harry Styles work of art on your arm. And you couldn’t be more proud.

“C’mere, you can look in the mirror,” Harry beckoned, gesturing to the mirror behind him on the wall.

Standing in front of it, you wiped your eyes with your fingers until Harry handed you a tissue.

“Don’t cry, love,” he cooed. “You’ll make me think you made a mistake.”

“Of course not, silly man.” You stretched your arm down to look at the full length of the ink on your skin. “No mistakes here.”

“I’m glad,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chest on your shoulder as you took in the image of you both in the mirror. Grabbing his phone, Harry then took a couple of quick photos of your arm. “Let’s go ahead and put a covering on that so it won’t get infected.”

“Oh, how long do I have to do that? I wanna be able to show it off this weekend.”

Harry smirked at your pout. “Just a few days. You should be okay by then.”

Once again, you sat in his chair while he applied the dressing and bandage. Then he explained to you the aftercare, which made you giddy. You knew it was his job, but you enjoyed seeing him being professional.

“I’ll give you some information to take home with you as well,” he added as he removed his gloves, “but right now, I really need to touch you.”

You opened your mouth, but before you could make a syllable, Harry slid his hands under your jaw and pulled you into a warm kiss. He soon deepened it, his tongue invading your mouth as his hands traveled around your neck to your hair. When he finally released you enough to take a breath, you gasped.

“Wow.”

“Uh huh,” he voiced so low that you barely heard it. Then he licked his lips before sliding his hand up your thigh like before. “Exactly.”

You stared at Harry, his eyes darkening as he fingers began to tease you between your legs.

“So, what…mmm,” you swallowed at the sensation, “what other things did you have in mind?”

“Oh, you really wanna know?” he quirked a brow.

“Mmhmm. Yes, please.”

“Hmm, you ask so politely. But I might wanna keep teasing you like this. Make your legs tremble until you can’t stand it anymore. Until you’re begging for me to make you come.”

“Mmm,” you moaned again as he applied more pressure with his thumb, his hand cupping you, still over your clothes. “I don’t think I would be opposed to that.”

“No? You like being teased?”

“I like the way you tease,” you replied, breathy.

A low chuckle rose from his throat, and you felt the vibration as his face was just inches from yours. Then he surprised you by rising from his chair, his hand leaving your throbbing core to tug on the bottom of your t-shirt.

“Off, sweetheart,” he demanded.

You lifted your arms for him to remove your top, careful of your freshly tattooed area. You nearly came unglued at the sight of him biting his bottom lip.

“Sorry I don’t have on fancy undies,” you said, looking down at your cotton bralette.

“Are you kidding?” he snorted before he helped you remove that garment as well, his hands quickly palming your bare breasts.

You closed your eyes, reveling in the pleasure of his calloused thumbs skimming across your perky buds. He was so light and gentle with his touch, that you almost pouted, but you knew this was his intention. To drive you crazy.

He kissed you again, his hands still on you until he backed away suddenly. You opened your eyes to see him removing his own shirt, his tattooed torso on display. Your mouth watered instantly, an automatic reaction now.

You and Harry had good sex. There was no denying it. Not that you liked to compare, but Harry was the best in bed. He already knew what you liked, what buttons to press and which ones not to (not that there were many). But the best thing about the sexual part of your relationship was that it was never boring. Even when it was just quick fucking, it was amazing. Even when it was sweet, sleepy sex, you were left satisfied.

So Harry implying - albeit obviously - that he wanted to fuck you on that tattoo chair was no surprise. But the thrill was still as strong as ever. Everything he did excited you. Jesus, just looking at him sent a bolt of electricity down to your cunt, making you squeeze your muscles together.

Letting out a breath, you reached for his belt, pulling it from the loop and releasing it. He gave you another smirk as you tugged on his jeans with your non-tattooed arm, frustrated when the button wouldn’t come loose.

“Let me help, baby,” he growled, keeping your hand in position as he covered it with his own hand and helped you pull. The button popped open, the zipper separating along with it as your tug was determined. Then Harry assisted you further, his hand guiding yours down the front of his pants.

“As if you had to help me with that,” you scoffed with a grin.

“Maybe I wanted some help,” Harry eyed you.

“I don’t think that’s necessary either, big boy.”

His sexy low chuckle vibrated through your hand while you found you were a hundred percent correct. Standing from the chair, you pulled him from the confines of his jeans, the pink, bulbous head of his hard cock greeting you.

“Mmm,” you sounded. “Maybe I could help a little.”

You released his erection for just a moment to run your hands down his chest, your fingernails raking over his pecs and the light dusting of chest hair around his nipples. But it didn’t take long for Harry to reach for your tits again, squeezing them in his hands.

“Wait…I thought I was supposed to be teasing you,” he groaned.

“So you don’t want your cock in my mouth?” you teased back.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Fuck, babe, I don’t know anymore. You’re so hot. I’m so turned on.”

“I can see that,” you grinned, wrapping your palm around his cock again. Before he could protest, you fell to your knees.

“Babe…” you heard as you barely licked the tip.

“Just let me, Harry. Please? I’m begging,” you looked up at him with puppy dog eyes, batting your lashes.

Letting out a breathy chuckle, Harry gave you permission with a nod and heavy eyelids. You took your time, wetting the head first, then slowly dragging your tongue underneath his length, from the base to the tip. Then licking your lips, you wrapped them around his hard cock, giving a generous amount of suction.

You heard his heavy breathing get louder and faster as you steadied yourself with your other hand on his hip. His own hands were everywhere at first, starting in your hair, then trying to paw at your breasts, then finally settling back on your head, gently urging and guiding you.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good at this.”

You’d never considered yourself a pro at giving head. You couldn’t even take all of him, for fear of choking. But he didn’t seem to mind. Your mouth and tongue along with your hand seemed to do the trick. After a few more swirls of your tongue, you allowed your other hand to reach underneath, grabbing his balls. He moaned loudly, another expletive rising from his chest.

“Baby. Baby, baby, stop. I don’t wanna come yet.”

Popping off of him, you smiled up at him, saliva dripping from your chin. You enjoyed pleasuring him, but you were excited to move on to phase two. With another low groan, Harry ran his thumb across your chin, guiding you back up to your feet.

“Y/N. I need to be inside you. Now.”

“Aw, you mean I don’t have to beg?”

Harry didn’t bother replying with words. Instead, he pulled down your leggings with fervor, your panties clinging to them so they slipped down together, pooling around your ankles just like Harry’s jeans.

“Turn around, sweetheart,” he patted your hip while wiggling his brows.

More electricity surging through you, you happily did as you were told, bending over the tattoo chair. You felt Harry run his hands down your ass before grabbing your hip and situating himself at your entrance. He slid in slowly at first, like he always did in order to get adjusted. But as soon as he let out a gasp that echoed your own, you knew it wouldn’t be long before he started to move faster.

Harder. His fingers dug into your flesh as he pounded into you. You bit your lip at first, then thought it silly since you were alone. As you began to moan, so did Harry. The sounds intertwined with the sexy, slow jazz were intoxicating. And when Harry bent over to grab your hair and talk in your ear, you thought you might come.

“Pussy’s so good, baby. Been thinking about it all day. Always so wet for me.”

“Mmmm,” was all you could manage.

“You like me fucking you like this?”

“Yes!”

“You like my hard cock pounding into you, my balls slamming against your wet pussy?”

“God, yes!”

“Yeah. It’s mine, innit? Your gorgeous cunt is all mine.”

“Mmhm.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s all yours, Harry. I’m all yours.”

Moaning in your ear, Harry slowed down. You wondered for a moment what was happening as you knew he hadn’t come yet. Then you felt a chill on your back as he stood up, his hands at your hips.

“Let’s get these off the rest of the way,” he said with heavy breaths, indicating your pants.

Blinking, you wiped your eyes and toed off your shoes, stepping out of the leggings as you watched Harry do the same with his jeans.

“Sorry, babe, for the interlude,” his voice cracked. “I wanna try something else.”

“Okay.”

You watched as he readjusted the chair to lay flat. Then he laid down on it.

“C’mere, babe,” he beckoned. “Climb on top of me.”

You shifted your eyes nervously. “Are you sure we won’t break it?”

“Only one way to find out,” he smirked.

Sucking in your lips, you climbed on with Harry’s assistance. You giggled at the awkwardness of it all as you straddled him.

“Just a second, honey,” he said when you were about to aim his cock. “Let me look at you.”

You glared at him, once again wondering what was going through his head. He acted as if he’d never looked at you before. But as you smiled down at him, his own lips grew into his dimpled grin, making you warm all over. He brushed your hair from your face, his thumb grazing across your cheek.

“You’re like an angel,” he murmured. “You take my breath away.”

“Harry…” you exhaled.

“I’m all yours too, honey.”

You beamed at him, knowing it was a reply to your previous admission. Then lifting yourself onto your knees, you looked into his eyes as you sank down onto his cock. You hissed as he closed his eyes, both of you already sensitive.

You rode him with determination, needing to chase the release. After bouncing on him a few times, Harry took your left hand and held it to his chest, making sure you didn’t put too much pressure on that arm. You giggled awkwardly as you tried to keep your balance, but your boyfriend was good at helping.

As you started to reach your high, the burn imminent both in your thighs and your core, you began to cry out.

“Harry….it’s so good, baby…oh, God…Harryyyyy.”

Bucking his hips against you, his hands both now on your own hips, he stared you in the eyes.

“I know, honey. Tell me.”

“Mmmmm…I’m all yours, Harry,” you bit your lip, throwing your head back.

“Y/N. Look at me.”

Blinking, you gazed down at him, his gorgeous face flushed. He groaned in pleasure before wrapping his arms around you.

“Tell me, baby. I wanna hear you say it.”

“What?”

“Tell me you love me.”

Your eyes widening, you stared at him in…no, not disbelief. Because you absolutely believed it.

“I know you feel it, baby. Just like I do. Tell me. Please.”

You’d slowed down your hips, Harry having paused his thrusts. But as you began to resume, moving faster, his gorgeous mouth hanging open, you nodded.

“I love you, Harry.”

His lips twitched before he licked them, then pulled you to him for a kiss.

“I love you, too, Y/N.”

A tiny giggle escaped your throat as realization kicked in. You were in love. And all his.

You rode Harry to the finish, reaching orgasm just before he cried out those three words again. He kissed you deeply, his tongue letting you know how pleased he was. His head falling back, his eyes closed in complete bliss, the biggest, dopiest grin on his face.

“Say it again, babe.”

You kissed his salty chest and neck, then gnawed on his stubbly chin.

“I love you,” you sang softly before kissing his lips.

“And I love you,” he echoed while your face hovered over his, your hair surrounding you both like a secret garden. “So much.”

Chatter filled the room and your ears as you suddenly heard the clink of a fork against glass.

"Ladies and gentlemen! A toast! To our man of the evening!" announced Sherrod. Harry turned to him with a bashful grin. "It has been my utmost pleasure to host this soiree for such an incredible artist. He is a viable part of this community, and I know you all join me in congratulating him at completing another remarkable series. To Harry Styles!"

As everyone clapped and cheered, raising their glasses, you heard Stan shout, "Hear, hear!"

Smiling at your boss, whom you had been thrilled to see arrive with his wife, you watched him make a taste of his own.

"Harry, my son, I've watched you sit at that same table in my cafe for over a year, doodling on your notepads and…thingamajig…" he gestured, making the guests chuckle. "To be honest, I didn't understand why my coffee shop, or why that table…or why only flat white lattes…" more laughs erupted as he patted Harry on the shoulder. "But I knew you had talent. And ambition. I'm proud of you, son. And I'm proud to say I knew you when."

"Hear, hear!" Sherrod and others cheered, raising their glasses again.

"Thank you, Stan. Thank you Sherrod," Harry choked. "This whole night means more to me than you'll ever know. All of you. I'm so humbled that each of you came tonight. This truly was special. I'll never forget it."

Harry's eyes met yours during his final words. Then as the chatter resumed, he stepped forward and pulled you into a long kiss.

"Alright you two," said Jill behind you. "Don't go find a room just yet. I need to take pictures."

You giggled as your friend held her phone up and you posed for several photos with Harry, including one where you were kissing him on the cheek. Satisfied with her shots, Jill squealed with joy and announced she had to take some more with her other friends next to Harry’s art.

A waiter came by then with more champagne, and you gladly took another glass, handing him your empty one.

“I’m so happy to see you having a good time,” beamed Harry, his arm still around you.

“I may have had a few too many of these,” you snickered, covering your mouth with your hand.

“No matter. We have that limo, thanks to you.”

“You can actually thank Shae. It was her idea.”

“Where is Shae, by the way?” Harry turned his head to search for your roommate. He spotted her next to the shrimp, talking to Kyle. His chest shook with laughter as he turned back to you.

“What?” you asked. “Kyle’s a nice guy, right?”

“Yeah. Too nice. She’s probably giving him an earful, and I’ll have to hear about it later.”

You playfully slapped his arm in your friend’s defense, though you knew he was right.

“Good idea, by the way, showing off your tattoo right away. I already have some clients lined up.”

“That’s awesome!” you cheered. You figured one of them was the nice lady you were talking to last time, since you saw her again soon after you’d arrived.

“Harry, my good man, congratulations!” another voice sounded. You both swiveled to see Carlo, his arm already stretched to give Harry a hug.

“Thank you so much for coming, Carlo.”

“Anything for you, my friend! Y/N, I don’t believe you’ve met my beautiful wife, Jossalyn.” Carlo gestured to the stunning tattooed brunette to his right.

You both gave each other salutations before Harry pulled her into a hug as well. Then they announced their exit and said their goodbyes.

“You have a lot of friends and admirers, Harry,” you commented.

He nodded. “Seems that way. I need to remember to count my blessings.”

You lifted your hand to his handsome face, and he covered it with his own, gently shutting his eyes.

“Y/N! We have to be going, guys!” John shouted, breaking your reverie.

“John, thank you so much for coming!” you told him as you squeezed him. “And for bringing Rafi.”

“Told you he’s a dish,” he whispered in your ear.

You nodded as you watched his partner shake hands with Harry, then you did the same. As soon as they left, Harry leaned into you.

“Rafael is interested in my art.”

“Your art, or something else?” you quirked a brow. “I saw how he looked at you earlier.”

Harry cackled. “I promise it was strictly a professional conversation. But if it makes you feel any better, I’ll remind him I’m taken.”

As he slid his arm back around your waist, you shook your head as you smiled up at him. “I was teasing you. I wouldn’t blame anyone in this room for wanting a piece of you…professionally or otherwise. But I appreciate the sentiment. Also, I trust you.”

“Yeah? I’m glad, baby.”

Harry brought his hand up to slide under your jaw, and he was just about to kiss you when the other man of the hour interrupted.

“Harry, lad, I have an early flight in the morning, so I must bid farewell,” said Donovan McNulty. This evening he wore a black suit with a red bowtie. You smiled at him, holding out your hand.

“Mr. Nulty, thank you so much for coming. You’ve made Harry so happy.”

Donovan leaned in and kissed your cheek, then the other. “My dear, I reckon it’s the other way around. Besides, it looks like he’s found his happiness right here, with his muse.”

He gave you a wink as he squeezed your tattooed arm before shaking Harry’s hand and waving goodbye.

The party continued for another hour or so. You and Harry both gave a lot more thank yous and farewells. Then when no other guests remained (Harry insisted on seeing everyone out to show his appreciation), Sherrod finally shooed you out to the limo.

“Thanks for helping with everything, sweetheart,” cooed Harry as he necked you in the back of the car.

“I didn’t do much,” you conveyed. “Sherrod set up most of it.”

“No, you did more than you know. I love and appreciate you.”

“Same here, handsome,” you grinned before caressing his soft lips. “By the way, I have something to show you when we get to your place.”

“Yeah? Is it under your dress?”

You giggled as his hand wandered under the flimsy fabric of the new dress you’d purchased just for this occasion.

“No,” you playfully tugged at his wrist. “It’s something I left there while we were getting ready. It’s in your nightstand.”

“Handcuffs?”

“No! Harry Styles, I’m trying to be romantic and open, and you’re being naughty.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, babe. I can’t help it. It’s just where my mind went.”

“It’s okay,” you tutted.

“What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

Harry held your hand as he walked you to his apartment. The glow of the moon shone through the balcony doors, punctuating the end of the moon-themed evening like a full stop. Although you weren’t ready for it to end just yet.

You laid your clutch bag on the counter next to his keys and wallet before he pulled you in for yet another kiss. Throwing your arms around his neck, you let his tongue tangle with yours, tasting the champagne you’d both consumed. Then he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you into the bedroom.

“Are you gonna show me now?” he asked between kisses after he laid you down.

You simply nodded, then reached for the bedside table, opening the top drawer. You retrieved a small notebook, the one you’d been writing in. Opening it, you flipped to the page you wanted to show him. When you handed it to him, he looked at you inquisitively.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Remember when you asked me if I had a hobby, something that I was passionate about? And I mentioned I used to write?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You inspired me.”

With an easy grin, Harry sat back on the pillows, crossing his ankles. You sat next to him, your legs tucked underneath you as you bit your bottom lip nervously.

Brilliant, blazing, glistening, glittering

The celestial satellite shines by the light reflected from the sun

Its beautiful mystery soothingly captivates us

All aglow, seemingly from within

Feminine energy that affects the rise and fall of the tides

A big balloon, luminous and serene

These are words used to describe the moon

But they are also words to describe my heart

For my heart is now a big balloon

All aglow and alight from within

From the light of your heart, the sun

Brilliant, blazing, beautiful

Wondrous and astral, my heart is now home

Lowering the notebook after reading your poem, Harry looked at you.

“It’s kinda short,” you offered with a hesitant chuckle. “But it took me forever.”

“Baby,” he said, scooting closer to you and reaching for you. “This is beautiful.”

“Really?” you crinkled your nose, still not completely confident.

“Yes, baby, really. I love it. I love you.”

Your expression softened, easing into a smile. Harry pulled you to his chest, brushing your hair back from your face.

“Thank you for writing it, but even more, for sharing it with me.”

“I figured I should, since you share so much with me.”

“That’s what I mean, love. Not only did you share your heart with me, but you put it into words on paper. It’s stunning. I’m…”

His hands still in your hair, he paused his words.

“What?” you asked as you saw a tiny tear escape from the corner of his eye and down his cheek. “Harry…”

“Can’t help it, baby,” he choked as you wiped the tear. “I’ve fallen so hard for you.”

“Me too,” you whispered.

“Tell me again, Y/N.”

“I love you…” you said, his lips capturing yours once again before you could say his name.

You didn’t mind that he asked you to say those words. In fact, you liked it. You would tattoo it on your heart if you could.

THE END

And there we have it :). Please like, comment and consider following me if you enjoyed it! Feedback is love x.

[pbandjesse]

I am absolutely shattered today. More exhausted then I have been in a while. I am super glad my workshop tomorrow is not happening anymore because I don't think I could handle it. I am just. So tired.

I didn't sleep amazing again. My ears hurt again. I have had go take out all of my piercing. Which seems to have helped a little bit. But I also absolutely slept through my alarm because I was asleep on top of my phone. Thankfully James woke me up at 715.

I was in a horrible mood though. And I was very snippy. I was in my head telling myself to knock it off but I was having a bad time. I was to hot. I would be okay but it did not start well.

James left for work before me. And I took a few extra minutes to sit and watch my new fish because I read that it can help your blood pressure and I do think it helped a little bit. I was out the door by 755.

I got over to creative alliance and loaded up my wagon. As I walked from the corner where I parked t Creative Alliance Parker pulled up and I was like. Oh hi! And I really tried to put on all my energy. But I was for sure more low energy then normal. I tried but I was struggling.

The classroom was 72 degrees. Which was wild. Parker would realize and fix it pretty quick but it did not help how warm I already was. But it would be okay.

I started setting up my program and slowly the kids started coming in. Including some I knew! One from the nursery I subbed at before and one form puhtok. And everyone was really great.

James had given me a bunch of flattened cardboard boxes from soap being sold at the gift shop. So as the kids came in, some went to draw, and some came to help me assemble the boxes. And it was fun. A nice little way to get to know each other and jump right into making stuff.

They were all really excited about the Rubbermaid tubs of stuff I brought. And I gave them plastic bins to start putting things to the side in case they might want to use them for their dioramas. But we would be breaking into two groups later on so it was no rush.

The kids were really funny. And by the end of the day they had developed their own religion, with one of the older boys, Andrew, becoming the cult leader. It was all around an egg that did not shatter with the others. And then at lunch they went to the park and saw a dead bird and I think there is a chicken and the egg conversation to be had but they just kept chanting. And making art about the egg. Children are so wonderfully weird.

Parker took the kids on a tour of the two buildings first. Which gave me a few minutes to eat my breakfast. But soon they were back and we jumped right in.

We started with taking about what a dioramas was. I wrote things in the board and we discussed what it is, what it's made of, why someone might make one. And they had really great answers. Next we filled out the worksheet I made up with information for thinking about how your diorama will function. Who's in it? What's the environment? What are the materials? We then sketched it and then we made paper models of the ideas. Not everyone did all of these steps, and they really didn't have to. But it was good to work through the ideas.

We had approximately 2 and a half hours for each group. And I found that about half of each group spent the entire time making, while the other half finished in about an hour. So I had to push for adding things. And I would find some books and Legos to entertain the littler ones. But overall I think we did great.

I did struggle when I realized I forgot my hot glue sticks at home. So the first group only had 5 sticks. But they really made it work. Like it wasn't perfect but it was still good. Even if I was stressed. And I would cut my finger in my pocket knife when I was helping cut windows out of boxes. Ouch. It was bleeding pretty bad and I was mad at myself.

But the kids did great. Only a few little finger burns on the hot glue guns. No one seriously injured. And they all worked really hard. It was nice to see.

They had a snack break half way through the morning. I would have my little lunch then since I was planning on quickly driving home to get the hot glue during their lunch half hour.

After their snack some of them finished quickly. Some took the rest of the hour. Other started drawing. I had music going. It was a little tough for me to find music without cursing so we ended up listening to Mitski and Julien Baker all day. Which I enjoyed and I think kept the space calm.

We finished the morning session and Parker collected the other class and my class and I headed to the car.

I quickly drove home. Washed my face and tried to shake off the tired feeling. My feet hurt and it would only get worse. But it was okay. I grabbed the hot glue. Pet Sweetp. And quickly drove back. Got the same parking space even!

They were still at the park for lunch so I enjoyed sitting on the stairs outside. I was out there for like ten minutes when I heard the entire group of children chanting "all hail the dead bird!" Over and over. Children are hilarious.

I did have to ban chanting though because half of my second group was getting very frustrated by the boys repeating and being loud about eggs and I was getting frustrated too. You may worship the egg quietly in your head. I just don't want to hear it anymore.

The afternoon felt long. But I know it was mostly because I was very tired. I still had fun. And really enjoyed seeing what everyone was making. Some of the kids really were great at this project and I was so proud of them. This is for sure a 3rd/4th grade project. But what else it new, that's the age I work best with.

Around 330 we started cleaning up. Some were still working. Some were done. I was slowly cleaning up around them. Teaching some how to properly wash paint brushes. Giving others the job of sweeping. And soon parents were showing up.

As they were getting picked up I thanked them all for coming. One of the kids showed me a magic trick. I got to meet the other teachers who were teaching the kids to do magic tricks which was very neat. And after packing my wagon I was ready to go.

I checked in with Parker before I left. And he just said how awesome he thinks I am and how he loves how I know so many things. To be fair I know a little about a lot of things, and it's hurt me in the past. I remember when I applied for Penland to try and get a residency after college and they said I had to many directions in my portfolio. That I needed to focus. But that was never going to be me I guess. I think I like it better that way.

I held it together until I got home. But I was exhausted. My feet hurt so much. I desperately wanted to lay down.

And that's just what I did. I got home and took my shoes off and got on the couch. And that's where James found me not long after. I was very upset and very tired.

I just kept closing my eyes. But James asked me what I wanted for dinner and I wanted brass tap. It took me a while to get to that answer but I did get there. And it was hard to get up. But James pulled me off the couch and we headed to Towson.

James took us a fun back roads way. And I talked to them about some frustrations I am having and that helped me feel a little better.

We parked in the parking garage at the mall and went to the restaurant. And it wasn't amazing and I felt horrible. But I was happy to be with my James. Even if it was to loud. Ah well.

I still appreciated James trying to make me feel better. The food was fine and I saved the salad for tomorrow. We walked through the mall to go to the car because it had started to rain. And it was nice window shopping but I was very much ready to go home.

When we got back here I got changed and got in the couch. James did some painting for the stairwell. And me and Sweetp have just been resting.

And I am very very much ready for bed now. Thankfully the only plans I have this weekend is to have brunch with Callie tomorrow. She's coming to get me in the morning and we have reservations so I'm hoping it's pretty low stress. And I'm just really looking forward to seeing her. Hopefully I will sleep good and be able to feel amazing tomorrow.

I hope you all feel amazing too. I love you all very much. Goodnight everyone.

[percervall]

decorating the house

Player: Kostas Tsimikas Words: 982  Requested: - Warnings: None, fluff, suggestive ending A/N: I wrote this one towards the end of last month, but didn't get around to posting it until now. The idea was kind of inspired by @footballerimaginess blurb on Kos decorating the house

Please let me know what you think! 🧡

Autumn masterlist

----------

“Hey babe?” came Kostas’ voice from the corridor as he walked into her home office. 

“Mm?” she responded, still focussed on making sense of the numbers on her screen. 

“Oh, you’re working,” he observed when he laid eyes on her.

“Gimme a minute..” she said, mumbling something under her breath about men named Greg and their inability to organise. Kostas smiled as he watched her work. She sighed and rolled her shoulders, pushing her blue light glasses up into her hair as she spun around.

“Okay, you had a question?” 

“Yeah, where do we keep the Halloween stuff? I tried the garage but it’s not there,” Kostas said.

“It’s up in the loft with the Christmas decorations. Why?”

“Oh, just thought I could decorate while you worked. The lads made it into a competition to see who could decorate the best. I have a feeling some of them will cheat by asking their partners to do it and then taking the credit,” Kostas explained, a child-like glint in his eyes. 

“Sounds like fun. What’s the prize?” 

“Pep said he’d get the winner a bottle of wine. Second and third both get Halloween sweets.” 

“So everyone’s a winner?” Kostas shrugged. “All right, well I’d say do your best– or worst since it’s Halloween,” she continued. She wondered if she should be concerned about the grin that broke on her boyfriend’s face when she gave him free rein like that, but decided it would probably be fine. What was the worst that could happen?

Kostas hadn’t been lying when he said he wanted to decorate. When she emerged from her office three hours later to get coffee, he had already decorated the staircase and hallway. She stopped in her tracks to take it all in. He’d strung cobwebs through the balusters of the staircase, adorning them with tiny black plastic spiders. The wall of the entryway was decorated with paper bats. She had a feeling he’d spent a good amount of time making those because she’d never seen them before. Her pumpkin-shaped glass jar had been filled with battery operated fairy lights, and placed on the entryway table. It looked really good, she had to admit.

As she moved into the living room, she stopped again. Their dining room table was covered in decorations and art supplies. Kostas was focussed on something that involved a glue gun and some candles. She dug her phone out of her back pocket and snapped a quick photo of him. Placing her mug down on the kitchen island, she moved to stand behind him.

“How’s it going?” she asked softly as to not startle him.

“So far so good. Did you see the staircase? And the wall?” Kostas said, looking up from his work. Now that she was closer, she saw he was using old crayons to add a drip-effect to some of the left over candles from last year. 

“Mmhmm. Where did the bats come from? I don’t remember them from last year?” 

He looked at her with a grin.

“That’s because I made them. Found a tutorial on Pinterest, it was easy enough to follow. I made too many so I used some for the wall behind the TV as well,” he said, pointing towards the fireplace. She followed with her eyes, taking in the paper bats and the cobwebs draped over the mantle. He’d put her skull candle holders down already and the two fake dog skeletons.

“And I saw someone use these things to make dripping candles,” he continued, holding up the crayons.

“Is that what the glue gun is for?” she asked, picking strings of fake cobwebs out of his hair. 

“Uhu, you put the thing in there,” he said, loading another crayon into the opening where the glue stick would normally go, “and then the heat will melt the wax. It’s easier than the blow dryer.” He nodded to her discarded blow dryer as if to prove his point. 

She smiled, watching him move the glue gun around the pillar candle until it looked like blood was dripping down it. Pressing a kiss to the crown of his head, she moved back to the kitchen to make herself another coffee. While the Nespresso machine spluttered away, she rested against the counter. 

“I think you might win this Kos,” she said as she took another look at what he had done so far.

“Really?” 

She nodded in reply and retrieved her mug. Taking a sip, she sat down opposite him at the table. 

“Can you film me making these candles so Pep knows I did it?” 

She smiled at how eager he was to get this right but got her phone out and started filming him crafting away. Turning around, she zoomed in on the fireplace.

“Just so you know Pep, Kos is in charge of decorating from now on. Couldn’t have done it better myself,” she said before turning back around. Kostas laughed and finished his final candle. He unplugged the glue gun, and gathered the candles. She kept filming him as he placed them down on the mantle. 

“Babe, if football somehow doesn’t work out for you, you have a future in interior design,” she commented as she put her phone down. Kostas beamed at her from across the room, admiring his own work. She walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him. 

“My beautiful Kos, a man of many talents..” she murmured and kissed him briefly. Kostas tightened his arms around her, chasing her lips when she pulled back. 

“Mm, follow me upstairs and I’ll demonstrate something else I’m really good at,” he pretty much purred in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. 

“Gotta clean up first babe, you made a mess.” 

“Give me five minutes and I’ll show you just how much of a mess I can make,” he replied, moving his lips down to her neck. 

---

Paper bats The mantel

[offthefieldsmau]

⚽ 1.92

Wednesdays, attentive reader, were the bane of Stede’s existence. It was lucky for him that since Mary and Doug were back from their vacation; Alma and Louis spent their Sunday thru Wednesday with them, relying on Stede to pick them both up at Alma’s nighttime soccer practice for the rest of the week. The duo would then be deposited back into Mary and Doug’s careful hands at family brunch on Sunday.

However, with the recent honeymoon trip and re-acclimation back into reality, Mary and Doug had been frazzled. Post-wedding chaos was palpable, especially with all the legalities that one had to go through.

Lucky for Mary, she didn’t have to worry too much. Doug was keen on taking over just about every detail that he could. Down to changing his own name, solely because he didn’t want Mary to stress too much about the process all over again.

The bar may have been low, but Doug was hell bent on raising it for the rest of society.

You’ll be inclined to know, however, that while Doug was busy taking care of all the Marriage Things, that left Mary to take care of all the Art Studio and New House Things. And Wednesdays were always fairly busy for Stede as hump day meant all kinds of meetings and check-ins with his infant team of real estate aficionados.

Routine was paramount to him: wake up at 6, breakfast by 6:30, dressed by a soft 7:15 (you never know how his hair will behave, especially by mid-week,) and out the door by 7:45. The drive to the office was a short fifteen, but even then, Stede was the boss.

If he showed up late, but with an armful of donuts, who in the office would have protested?

So his Wednesdays were down to a science, that not even a loose cog in the wheel could disrupt. He gave himself time buffers, just in case he doddled too long getting his skincare routine done, or matching the perfect button-up for his suit.

Which was why his well-oiled Wednesday machine sputtered to a stop when he got a phone call from Alma at 7:00 AM sharp.

“Petal?” Stede patted the lapel of his bathrobe as he stood in his closet, “Why are you—”

“Mom and Doug aren’t home,” Alma sighed and muttered something offhand to Louis, “I think they forgot us.”

Stede scoffed, “They did not forget you. That’s wholly unlike them,” lucky for them, he was ahead of schedule and pulled a blazer off the rack, “You’re sure they’re not home?”

“Pretty sure, dad,” she bemoaned, “my homeroom starts in 30 minutes and we can’t be tardy again. They both left this morning, like, super quick. The coffee pot was still brewing when I came downstairs for breakfast.”

Stede already had his top-half clothed and jumped into a pair of slacks, “I’ll be over in fifteen. Please eat or grab something for the drive to school—”

“Already fed,” her smile in tone was familiar — Stede could see the fondness on her face, “and thank you.”

“Of course,” Stede stopped what he was doing and grabbed the phone, “anytime. You ever need me, you call, okay?”

“Okay.”

Once Stede got in the car, he had to give Oluwande a call about a late show to work, since the school was in the opposite direction of the office from his house. With that push-back, he had to reschedule two morning meetings with prospective buyers. 

Like dominoes, his whole day was thrown for a loop. Lunch was an hour later than Stede normally took it (and his stomach protested violently.) His mid-afternoon tea had to be canceled for the day as he got email after email about bank appraisals needed for not one, not two, but three homes.

Someone at Bank of America had it out for Stede Bonnet, surely.

One gold, lone shiny star (like the stickers on his fridge) from the day was the fact that he was not late picking the kids up from school. He and Alma were nearly late for practice drop-off (to which Stede didn’t even get a chance to say hi to Ed, much to his heart’s dismay.)

[dysfunctionalcrab]

babysitter

pairing: georgenotfound x reader

pronouns: gender neutral

description: george is left to babysit your niece

warnings: mentions of a future family? just in case that makes you uncomfortable.

[y/n/n] - your nieces name

[y/s/n] - your siblings name (gender neutral too)

note: i’m not too sure about this imagine, please a like or reply if you actually enjoyed! - niss

you woke up to the sound of your alarm blasting your ear off, if you hadn’t turned it off right there you probably would have gone deaf.

george was sleeping like a baby beside you, you could hear his quiet snores. you were surprised he didn’t wake up to the sound of your ear-piercing alarm.

turning on your phone, you glanced at the time that read 12:30. you sighed in annoyance as you registered that you only had half an hour before you had to be on your way to university. so you got up and began your normal morning routine, brush your teeth, shower, have breakfast and finally get dressed. however, as you were packing your bag, almost ready to go, you received a notification from your [sibling]

[y/s/n]: we’re 5 minutes away!!!

[y/s/n]: thank you so much for agreeing to do this :)

fuck.

it completely slipped your mind. you had promised to take care of [y/n/n] for today, your 7 year old niece, while your [sibling] was at their job interview. regardless, you texted them a quick ‘no problem’ before rushing upstairs to wake up george.

he was still sleeping, but now he was completely hiding under the covers with one arm sticking out. you hated to interrupt his beauty sleep but this was more important. you began to shake him awake.

“babe,” you shook him

“wake up,”

“george,” you removed the covers off his face

“wake the fuck up!” you started poking his sides. usually, you would be a little less... harsh, but you were panicking.

finally the boy rose from his slumber, groaning and stretching all his limbs. he blinked a couple times before meeting your eyes

“good morning,” he said softly, as if he completely just disregarded your tone of desperation and worry.

you pulled him by his arm and he sat upright,

“you need to get up right now,” you told him

“what’s going on?” he questioned, clearly confused as you weren’t giving him any context

“you need to take care of [y/n/n] for today, i have classes today, and i need to leave in 5 minutes and [y/s/n] has a job interview and there’s nobody else to take care of her,” you rushed out all in once sentence.

“are you serious?” he narrowed his eyes at you. “you know how bad i am with kids, especially [y/n/n] , she hates me,”

that was partly true. unfortunately, your niece wasn’t exactly fond of george. ever since you even started dating,m, [y/n/n] acted cold towards your boyfriend, it only got worse when you moved in with him. she always refused to play a game if george was going to participate, or never accepted any high fives or hellos from him. you felt sympathy for george. this child despised him and now you were asking him to look after her.

“please, i’m begging you,” you looked at him with pleading eyes. his eyes softened up after recognising the urgency of the situation.

“fine,” he agreed. you sighed out of satisfaction that you didn’t have to stress out [y/s/n] over finding a new baby sitter.

“thank you so much,” you pressed a small kiss to his lips appreciatively.

right at that moment, you two heard the doorbell ring. you urged george to get ready as fast as he could while you went down stairs and greeted your [sibling] and your niece.

“auntie/uncle [y/n]!” [y/n/n] yelled as you opened the door, immediately rushing into your arms. she looked a lot taller than the last time you saw her

“how’s my favourite girl?” you picked her up and swung her, before placing a little kiss on her head

you gave your [sibling] a quick hug. they handed you a bag full of toys, teddies and colouring pens, along with a spare set of clothing just in case [y/n/n] got a little messy throughout the day. and some quick reminders about her favourite foods or how to get her stop crying. you’d looked after her before, so all of it was pretty familiar to you

“again, thank you so, so much, you have no idea how much you’re helping me.” they told you. your [sibling] gave [y/n/n] a kiss on the cheek and told her to be a ‘good and kind little girl’ before finally exiting the household.

george, at last, made his way down. wearing a decent pair of jeans and a hoodie, giving an awkward wave to [y/n/n]

you checked the time and knew you had to get going. you had to explain to her that uncle george was going to be the one looking after her today. and after one whole tantrum, you managed to convince her to be a good girl by promising to give her a big reward afterward.

finally, you kissed [y/n/n] and george a goodbye , then shut the front door behind you.

george and [y/n/n] stood opposite each other. there was an uncomfortable silence in the air. george felt so...he didn’t even know. what do you say to a child who hates you? [y/n/n] tightly clutched her bag of toys.

“so, [y/n/n],” george cleared his throat, he bent down to her level. “i hear you like toy story?”

[y/n/n] pouted “i don’t like you” she said, and stomped away.

george sighed. this was going to be a long day.

and it was.

-

it started off with [y/n/n] innocently using her colouring pens and drawing random things, you know, as children do. but when she ran out of paper, she made her way to your office, where all your uni work was. she grabbed the closest piece of paper that was sitting on your desk, deciding it was going to be the next canvas for her art. this paper just happened to be a very important assignment.

when george caught her in the act, he had to physically tear her away from your office, in defiance of all her kicking and screaming.

-

then, when george accidently left the door to your shared bedroom open. [y/n/n] waddled in without him noticing, she started playing with all of his devices. his computer, his microphone, and somehow she got a hold of his headphones, and took out the battery. george didn’t realise until he noticed the cover missing. he tried to ask her nicely where she threw the battery. but she insisted that she wasn’t going to give it back unless he stopped being ‘mean’

-

when lunch time rolled around, george put a pizza in the oven, he remembered clearly that [y/n/n] loved pizza, specifically pepperoni. nothing could go wrong here.

but when he called her to the kitchen so she could receive her lunch. she just stared blankly at the pizza, and then at him. she crossed her arms

“[y/n] usually makes a smiley face with the pepperoni”

george just felt all his will to live just disappear

-

coloured pens and toys were spread out all across the living room floor, [y/n/n] was sitting in front of the tv, george put on one of her favourite shows which thankfully distracted her for a bit, allowing him to relax. he pulled out his phone and texted you

to [y/n] <3 : help me please

to [y/n] <3: i cant take this anymore, i’m literally dying rn

to [y/n] <3: come home quick

he exhaled heavily, throwing his phone to the side. he was so exhausted.

[y/n/n] was roleplaying with her toys, making them move around and doing squeaky little voices. george smiled at the innocence

“purple bear doesn’t play with us anymore. princess giraffe, mr. george took her away from us,” she spoke in a high pitched voice

george’s ears perked up. how funny that she had a teddy named ‘mr. george’. curiously, he watched the little girl.

“koala george, is a meanie, he stole purple bear and now they don’t want to hang out with us!”

it didn’t take a genius to find out what [y/n/n] was displaying through her role playing teddies.

that was why she didn’t like george. before they got together, [y/n] mentioned they almost spent every weekend with [y/n/n], playing with her and having fun with her.

she felt abandoned by [y/n] and felt as if george had taken them away from her .

george felt at fault as he noticed the girls eyes started to water.

“does purple bear love us any more?” she continued to play.

george decided it was enough and he switched off the television. he joined [y/n/n] on the floor and grabbed the teddy that was supposedly ‘koala george’

“[y/n/n]” he spoke softly. the little girl looked up at him expectantly. he held up the teddy.

“is this supposed to be me?” he questioned her.

“that’s a koala bear,” she answered

“no-, [y/n/n],” he said. he thought about how to ask her, and just chose it was best to be flat out with the child,”

“did i steal auntie/uncle [y/n] away from you?”

the question took her by surprise. she gazed at him with big wide eyes. she thought about her answer and grabbed the purple bear, which was supposed to be you.

“they don’t play with me as much anymore, they’re always with you, because of you, they don’t love me anymore,” she pulled a face, it wasn’t angry, it wasn’t annoyed.

it was a genuinely sad face.

george was sure he physically felt a pang of guilt in his stomach. he never even comprehended the fact that a child could feel so rejected.

“listen... [y/n/n],” he said gently. he thought about his words. comforting someone wasn’t exactly his strongest point, particularly not a child who detested him “[y/n] will never stop loving you, okay? they love you very much, and i’m sorry you feel like i stole them ”

[y/n/n] continued to listen.

“but don’t forget that [y/n] has so much love to go around! look, they love you, and they love me, they love grandma and grandpa too! they will always love one another even if they can’t see each other often,”

[y/n/n] stayed silent. she fiddled with the purple teddy, folding its ears and patting its head. she loved that bear. it was actually gifted to her by you, when she was first born. she brought it to her chest and hugged it. george tried a different approach.

“listen, how about- this weekend, we can all go to the park together, and have a picnic. you, me, [y/n], and your parents too,”

she continued to just stay silent. george didn’t know what to expect, she was unpredictable, was she going to throw another hissy fit? or start to cry? he wasn’t sure

“can we also get ice cream?” she asked

george smiled and felt himself relax. thank god. “all the ice cream you want,” he told her

[y/n/n] stood up and giggled. like her whole entire mood did a whole fucking 180. “okay! let’s go play dress up now!”

———

7:45 pm. you finally arrived home. you were tired out of your mind. [y/s/n]’s interview was delayed by two hours and was currently half way back home, meaning you had enough time to spend with [y/n/n]

you unlocked the door, expecting to see a giant tsunami of toys and colouring pencils and pens, but what you saw was the most heart warming thing ever.

george was sleeping on the couch, his head resting on the armrest. he had a couple pink bows in his hair, his lips were painted a hot pink, he was wearing a couple sparky bracelets and a purple floral necklace.

in his lap, [y/n/n] rested her head, she was wearing a fairy costume with matching pink bows and sparkly bracelets.

you quickly snapped a photo of this wholesome moment. because, who wouldn’t? you spent a few minutes just watching the two sleep, they were probably just as tired as you.

moments like these made you really appreciate the people you had in your life. the people you love so dearly much.

you didn’t want to disrupt the ambience but you felt it was better for your [sibling] to collect your niece when she wasn’t covered in glitter and an overload of pink accessories.

you quietly woke george up,

“baby, wake up.” you shook him awake, gently. in a very different way than you did this morning. he opened his eyes. and immediately smiled upon seeing your face. you ran your thumb across his cheek

“it looks like you two had a lot of fun,” you teased.

he quietly chuckled. “she’s okay,” he told you. looking down at the little girl sleeping in his lap.

you slowly and carefully picked her up, removing any accessories you thought may seem uncomfortable to sleep in. she was a heavy sleeper.

you carried her upstairs, tucking her into you and george’s bed and placing a kiss upon her forehead. you turned back to george and rushed in for a bear hug

“thank you so much for doing that,” you said. “i love you so much, i know it probably wasn’t easy, she can be quite the handful,”

george chuckled. “handful is an understatement,”

“you’d better be willing to dress up like that with our own kids one day.” you stated, hugging him tighter.

his face broke out into a small smile, having thought of an image of you two playing with you future kids. he kissed top of your head and then your nose

“maybe one day”

———

masterlist

[bluecookies02]

Dabi x Reader- cûm soaked silk

Summary: You're the league's relatively new addition, during a fight Dabi saves you, immediately catching your attention and clouding your mind. Eventually after a row of success the league organizes a party and Dabi comes over so the two of you can prepare.

Warnings: cum play, creampies ,throatfucking, light alcohol consumption, pinning, panties theft.

/masterlist/

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Here you are once again waking up at 2 in the afternoon. With a quick stretch and desperate grasp for consciousness, you feel the familiar pain of a long night spent gathering supplies and fighting the trash that calls themselves heroes.

Thankfully, it was a night full of victories for the LOV so the pride you feel is stronger than the strain on your tired body. In everything you remember from last night, one moment sticks out so clear that you can't help but blush and let a smile escape the corner of your lips.

"A little danger looks good on you."

That was the most Dabi had said to you since you joined the League. A small-time hero aimed their quirk at you and your heavily scarred teammate was quick to throw you against the nearest wall, his body covering yours. There was nothing but anger in your heart and a lust for blood painted on your face until your eyes met his stunning blues.

All it took was those few words from his all too calm voice and that lazy, lustful look from his heavy-lidded eyes...you were hooked. With a final stretch, you tried to shake him from your mind.

Freshly showered and with coffee in hand, you grabbed your phone off of the nightstand. You skimmed your missed messages to get an idea of the day ahead of you. Nothing unusual. Some blood-soaked selfies from Toga, early morning ramblings from Twice, a short but thoughtful message from Kurogiri thanking you for your efforts last night, and a lackluster message from your boss inviting you to attend a gathering at the LOV hideout for a few drinks and to officially welcome you into the fold.

Well, at least you had something besides a mission to look forward to. You'd been wound so tight for months doing everything you could to help the league and uphold Stain's ideals. You needed tonight. Besides, he might be there. Before you had the chance to shame yourself for letting him back into your thoughts, your phone rang. An unknown number.

You got out a sleepy, half-hearted, "Hello," before you heard it. That honey-coated voice that caused a chill to run the length of your spine before his warmth washed over you.

"I see our crusty leader is throwing you a party. That's quite a surprise. So when are we going?"

Like always, he was so matter of fact. So sure of himself and set in his intentions. As much as his words made you want to melt into the floor, he said a little danger looked good on you, right? Fine. Then you would live dangerously.

You caught your breath before meeting his cool tone with your own subtlely beckoning statement. "Why don't you come over and we'll discuss it over a drink? If you've got my number, I'm sure getting my address should be just as easy for you." He let out a chuckle, wicked and low.

"See you in an hour dollface."

With that, you both hung up. Your heart was going to implode. What had you gotten yourself into? You bit your lip and smiled. It took no time for you to pick out the perfect outfit. No worn-out villain clothes tonight. No. This called for something exceptional.

A little black dress, some thigh high stockings, and the perfect lace lined lingerie would get you more than just a passing glance from the stapled stud you had set your sights on. As you laid the outfit neatly on the edge of your bed, it hit you. "Shit." Your alcohol-fueled stress relief had left your house completely dry. Whatever.

Fashionably late with a bottle in hand seemed better than facing this man without a little liquid courage. A quick text and you were out the door. "Heading out for a bit. Give me 30. Let yourself in and get comfortable."

Getting your address was simple. He was a man on a mission and after last night, he had a hunger. Saving you was the first thing on his mind during yesterday's battle. You were reckless and he could relate to you. A woman with convictions was his weakness. In a world full of fake meaning, your passion was as fiery as his quirk and he wanted more. Needed more of you.

The thoughts that crossed his mind after pinning you to that wall were less than noble. He wanted to feel you, to sink his teeth into your soft flesh. God he hoped you were a fighter behind closed doors too. Maybe he could overpower you.

He wondered if you knew how much you had him worked up and if you were just as desperate for a release as he was. Before he knew it, he was at your front door. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

"Get comfortable? Alright, doll. Let's see what you're all about."

He was surprised upon entering your apartment.

"Pretty classy place for such a reckless fighter. What are you hiding in here, little miss?"

He was eager to get to know you better. He couldn't simply flop onto the couch and kick his feet up. He knew you were more than a simple yet dedicated member of the league. You had dirty little secrets somewhere and he was out to find them. A few unlabeled pill bottles in the bathroom, empty champagne bottles in the kitchen...nothing too out of the normal considering your line of work.

When he finally made his way into your room, it was as well put together as the rest of your flat. He sifted through your nightstands and found...nothing. He let out a little sigh of defeat and sat next to a small pile of clothes on the bed. Running his hands under your pillows in a last ditch effort, he finally found something.

"So you are a naughty girl. You don't disappoint after all."

His wicked smirk was a sight to see as he held your toy in his hand. He had seen these before in a questionable marketplace. So he knew two things for sure; you had taste and he wanted you even more now. He'll make you forget you even own that little toy.

He was praying that this was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to your kinks. He made a mental note and tucked the vibrator back under your pillow.

He moved his attention to the outfit you had delicately placed across the mattress. If that was what you were planning to wear tonight then you knew exactly what you were doing to him. He could imagine the way that tiny dress would hug your curves and tease him with glimpses of all the places of your body he wanted to devour.

The fishnets were a filthy addition and he might let you keep those on while he had his way with you someday. His thoughts continued to spiral and he could feel his growing erection pressing uncomfortably against his jeans.

That's when he saw them. There they were. Those perfect, lacey little panties. His hunger for you hit primal levels as he grabbed your panties off the bed and tugged at the hem with his teeth. His free hand was already rubbing his aching cock through his pants as he imagined sliding those panties over and letting himself inside you.

Oh, the sweet moans you would make. How would his name sound when it rolled off your tongue as you begged for him to wreck you? He knew you wouldn't be back for another 20 minutes and he couldn't hold out any longer.

He made quick work of laying back on your bed and freeing his now rock hard cock from its clothed cage. He grabbed the black silk panties and wrapped them firmly around his base as he began pumping and stroking.

He bit his lower lip at the electric feeling taking him over. He was a man possessed and he would get his release by any means necessary. The veins along his shaft were throbbing as he thought of you all dolled up and desperate for him. He wanted to know how you would look on your knees ready and waiting for him. He could almost feel your hips gripped tightly in his hands as he imagined ruthlessly hammering every inch into you. His deviant thoughts and the feeling of your panties sliding sweetly along his length was an intoxicating combination. His other hand reached for his heavy balls, massaging them, trying his best to spoil himself for the remaining time he had.

All it took was the thought of your pussy gripping and welcoming him inside you with that black lace causing the perfect amount of friction between your swollen lips, clinging desperately for that pathetic amount of friction-... He couldn't help himself. Thick, hot ropes of cum were coating the cotton lining of your panties, his release overflowing and pulling all the way to the base of his cock.

He milked out the last few drops and watched as they soaked into the thin fabric.

Well, this would either get him kicked out of your flat or he would get the confirmation he needed that this overwhelming lust was mutual. All he knew was that he needed a drink.

With perfect timing, you returned home with a bottle in each hand just as he had placed the underwear back onto the bed and got himself situated on the couch as though nothing had happened.

Your heart almost skipped a beat. You assumed he would show up so that was no surprise. What you hadn't planned for was just how good he would look; the track lighting of your apartment showcasing him like a work of art. He looked so comfortable, so natural sprawled out on your furniture. Like he had always belonged there. This was your home but his presence filled the place. Fuck, what you would give for him to fill you instead. Before you could fall even deeper down that rabbit hole of attraction, he greeted you as only he would.

"So are you gonna pour us a drink or are those just for show?"

You felt the heat rise in your face and you could only imagine the color of your cheeks as he let his eyes work their way from the whiskey in your hands to the rest of your body. "Sure thing. Gimme a sec. And I said to get comfortable, not scuff up my table with your big dirty boots, ass." His little laugh was warm and kind despite your attitude. A few drinks, some light conversation, a couple of shared nervous laughs and glances...before you knew it, it was getting late. A nice buzz enveloped you as you excused yourself.

"Not so fast, doll. Where do you think you're going?"

The look in his eyes made you weak. You couldn't tell if it was the slow burn of the whiskey or the equally smoldering quality in his tone that made you blush. "Sorry, blue eyes. I gotta go get ready. You don't want me missing my own welcome party, do you? Behave while I go get dressed," you giggled. That laugh, innocent and a clear give away to your inebriation, was enough to cause his desire to come bubbling over.

He was one sip of whiskey past the point of being calm and he needed you. He quickly made his way behind you, grabbing your hips and leaning in to whisper in your ear...

"You should know by now, behaving is not something I do, hopefully, you can behave like a pretty little thing you are. Now let's get into that cute little room of yours and you're going to get changed. Slip out of those clothes and give me a nice show."

With those words, he gave your neck a few light kisses making sure to let his lips trail your skin before pushing you lightly towards the room. You were a warm mix of goosebumps and giggles. You were going to give this man anything he asked for, do everything that left his mouth before even finishing his sentences.

This was happening and you wondered why it hadn't happened sooner. The look in his eyes was ravenous and you were ready and willing to let him feast. The second you both made your way into the bedroom, your body was against the wall; his own body covering yours once more. This time, however, there was no battle, no rush, and the only dangerous thing in the room was the man staring you down with lust in his eyes and whiskey on his tongue.

You began unbuttoning your blouse and it was as if he couldn't pepper your skin with kisses fast enough. His lips worked every inch that was exposed as you tilted your head back and practically ripped your shirt the rest of the way off. The blouse fell behind you as Dabi's teeth lightly grazed your neck.

His left hand made its way up to the clasp on the front of your bra. He looked down unhooking it with ease as your breath hitched in your lungs. He let his lips and tongue playfully work down from your neck to your now exposed breasts. His bottom lip was about to glide over your nipple when he suddenly stopped and looked at you with that wicked half-smile.

He grabbed your chin and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. His original intention was to make it quick but the two of you were swept away in the burning taste of cheap whiskey and overwhelming desire. His arms wrapped around your waist as your hands softly glided through his hair and over his scarred cheek.

With a final soft bite to your bottom lip, he pulled away. "Is everything okay?" The aura about him had changed to something far more dominant and primal.

"I said put on a show, babe. So let's see it."

He sat back on the bed as he looked over your figure. You couldn't tell if his stare was more anticipatory or predatory but either way, you were soaked and dying for his skin against yours. You turned around and looked back at him with a dark and coy smirk before facing away.

You slid your hands down your body until they made their way to the zipper on the back of your skirt. As the small metal tab fell, Dabi bit his lip and felt something else rise up. You placed your hands on the wall above your head and spread your legs lightly.

You gave your hips a little shake and the skirt fell to the floor. Turning around to face him, you ran your thumbs across your hips and into the waistband of your panties. You teasingly lowered them barely an inch. His eyes lit up. That's when you snapped the band and let the panties back up. Slinking towards him, you placed yourself between his legs with your arms around his neck. "I think you should take these off...Don't want to have all the fun to myself."

"I thought you'd never ask, babe. But you'd look better in these. Why don't we change things up a bit?"

With that, he picked up the little black panties from the outfit laid out on your bed. You blushed. Now you were wondering what else he had seen. As you took them from his hand, you noticed something felt off about them. Your fingers slid across the slick and sticky substance that was still warm. Suddenly it hit you and felt your own temperature rise. "Dabi did you..."

"I said...put them on....go on."

His voice was deceptively calm but inside he was on a one-way track and there was no stopping him tonight. His cock was literally aching to be inside and the thrill of seeing you slide those panties on, getting you nice and coated with his cum before he had even entered you; It drove him right over the edge.You shyly slipped off your panties and began to put the others on. You stopped with them about halfway up. "Babe, I dunno. Is this really...."

"Looks like you need a little help."

Before you could blink, he had come right up to you and pulled the cum soaked panties the rest of the way up. You barely had time to catch your breath and enjoy the feeling of his lips so close to you when he began to run his fingers over your clothed slit and press his still warm fluids closer inside you. When he heard a small moan escape your lips and felt the silk against his fingers go from dampened by his own doing to soaked with your juices, he knew he had you.

He let his fingers slide past the fabric and past your folds trailing his sticky cum along them. He dipped two fingers into your cunt, pushing his cum into you, picking up the gushing out liquid each time it dared to drip out of you.

With just two minutes of that, he was throbbing and you were crying out, begging to feel him inside you, begging to get a fresh coat of cum in your greedy pussy.

"All fours, on the bed...Now."

With a firm slap to your ass, you did just as you were told. Only, he didn't get behind you like you were expecting. No. After quickly undressing himself, he stood before you hard and ready. Your jaw dropped and you were about to tell him how bad you needed it but he grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eyes.

"You're gonna be a good girl and get me nice and wet before I let you feel this cock filling you up and stretching that pretty pink pussy of yours. Do you understand?''

You nodded as he moved his hand to the back of your head and the other to the base of his cock. He guided you forward and you let your tongue gingerly trace the veins of his shaft before wrapping your lips around. With every pulse of his hips, you would play with his tip and graze it with your soft tongue before taking him all the way into the back of your throat.

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back. A few expletives left his lips as you let out soft moans and began to drool, his length becoming a bit too much to handle. Your mouth became a sloppy mess, his cock twitching each time your throat tightened around him. He could feel himself getting warmer and dizzier, the sight of you splattering around his length, your eyes watery and your hands struggling to keep you up made it unbearable for him to hold for much longer.

You can feel the mess dripping onto the sheets as you rub your thighs together.

He slides out of your mouth with a small pop and runs his thumb across your lips glistening with spit. The look you gave each other said enough as you arched your back and he made his way behind you.

His earlier fantasy was becoming a reality as he put one hand firmly on your hip and used the other to slide his tip up and down your warm and aching lips. He let go of both just long enough to grip the sides of your panties and burn them clean off. He yanked away the remaining fabric and lined himself up with your quivering entrance.

"Is this what you want, gorgeous? Hm? Do you need it?"

"Yes! Please Dabi! Fuck! I need it.C'mon.Please." And with your final desperate cries...he did just that. His every inch slid into you just right. His cock twitched as soon as he bottomed out, his hips jerking into you out of instinct.

He was the only man you knew who could pound your pussy so ruthlessly while his hands still explored your body so sweetly. it was intoxicating, addictive. You needed more. You needed him. Despite him holding your hips down, you managed to sway your hips just right, meeting his thrusts one by one.

He watched you gasp and loose balance, dropping on your forearms as you buried your head into the cushion. He admired the way your pussy took him so well, his cock disappearing all the way in and then coming back out. He was hazed, forgetting how much time passed as he plowed in and out of you, the intoxicating rhythm putting a strain on his muscles as he couldn't have it in him to slow down.

You were a teary mess, whines and cries coming from your sore throat as you begged for him to make you cum.

With another hard slap across your ass and more praise for the way you took him so well...that was it. You couldn't take it anymore. He was pounding that spongey spot just right and his hands were sending shivers through you. You couldn't hold back anymore and he could tell. You were clenching down on him as he continued to slide in and out. He grabbed you by the waist, towering over your back as he held your body flush to his.

His pace deep and more meaningful, his cock dragging along your velvety walls that were squeezing him of every drop he had left. The feeling of him throbbing as his warm cum painted your insides white threw you over the edge, your legs shaking as he continued with small ruts into your shivering cunt.

You were breathless, smiling, and spent. To your surprise, so was he. His blue eyes half lidded and his breathing ragged.

He carefully slid out of you and you both fell back into the mattress. After taking a moment to appreciate his sweat sheened body you sheepily asked, "Soooo...about the party...?"

"Yeah, yeah. It was great, wasn't it? Now shut up and come here," he said teasingly, welcoming you into his arms.

You're not sure when you fell asleep with your head on his chest or how you ended up with this man in your bed but you were happy to sleep in that day, your body already hooked on the warmth of his embrace, begging for it to not be just for this one night.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

So that was a wild ride, the backstory about this one is kinda long but i'll keep it as short as possible.

One day this lady jumped into my dm's (a few moths ago) requesting a Dabi x Reader x Overhaul fic.

Hovewer I didn't exactly get to it yet, but we continued talking throughout the months, her mentioning how she would love to start writing but was too scared of messing something up.

So we came up with a rough idea about dabi jerking off in the reader's panties and it went uphill from there!! Drafts and drafts, massages and thirsts we collabed on this and ended up with this little 4k word thing. So taking all of this into consideration, if you liked this spicy fic go give a follow to @issamomma the mentioned lady and a wonderful woman and now my dear friend.

Like,comment and reblog with ideas you might want the two us to collab on again. Hope you loved it and enjoyed it as much as we enjoyed writing it.

___________

requests:closed

commissions:open

Ko-Fi | Patreon 

[mvrtaiswriting]

We were 18. - Jotaro Kujo.

Me?? Posting something about Jotaro?? How strange. This piece of work is also dedicated to two of my comfort characters, Kakyoin and Joseph. This artwork is really important to me, it really holds a special place in my heart so.. enjoy! 

Neutral reader x Jotaro Kujo

Jojo’s bizzare adventures: Stardust Crusaders (spoilers)

AU

SFW | fluff 

Trigger warning: usual jojo violence, reference to grief, insomnia.

Word count: 1760.

The ‘continue reading’ button is there for space purposes, to make the reader avoid any possible spoiler and/or sensible topics.

Hi! Are you a new reader? Check my masterlist for more content!

Please feel free to reblog or leave a comment :) help me support my art (it’s free!),

© bearing in mind everything I post/write is my intellectual property so please don’t steal/copy and paste and post it as yours.

Since you returned from your tumultuous trip in Egypt, your life has never been the same. Once you came back to your hometown, not a moment passed by when you didn’t remember the terrible scenes you’ve witnessed during the fight with Dio. The memory of Kakyoin’s death was still so vivid in your mind and the more you tried to shake that thought out of your head, the more you kept reliving it – over and over again.

There were times when you swore you saw Kakyoin among a crowd of people; times when you could just hear his voice calling your name. Every time you closed your eyes Avdol, Kakyoin and Iggy were there. You barely slept anymore – most of the times you did so, you had nightmares about what happened in El Cairo. You lost count of how many nights you have spent crying in your bed, curled up in between your sheets in the silence of your lonely house. Living alone didn’t help; you were used to sneak into one of the crusaders’ room whenever you needed a shoulder to cry on or, simply, a place where you could feel safe. It wasn’t unusual for you to wake up squished between Kakyoin and Jotaro or trapped in one of Joseph bear-hugs. But now, you were thousands of kilometres away from the rest of the group, alone in your cold bedroom. There was no one to go to, and no one you could talk about how you felt. It was just you and your painful memories. No one would understand what you’ve been through – how could they? How could you ever explain how intense the 50 days you spent with the crusaders had been?

Another nightmare woke you up, as per usual. You gasped loudly as if you just started to breathe again after a long apnea and quickly sat down in the middle of your bed, holding onto your sheet. You started shaking as your chest moved up and down with rapid movements trying to catch your breath, tears streaming down your face. You were staring at the void in your pitch-dark room, trying to control your sobs and make yourself realise that you were back to reality. You stretched one of your arms to reach the lamp on your bedside table, curling yourself up while you slowly started to calm down. Wiping out the tears from your cheeks with your jumper’s sleeve, you finally dragged yourself out of bed and slowly went to the kitchen, making yourself some tea.

As you sat down to drink your hot beverage hoping it would bring you some comfort, you started to rehearse your dream - as if you could just replay it in your head as one would normally do with songs or movies. It wasn’t very different from any other dreams you had.

Kakyoin’s body was lying lifeless against the roof Dio had thrown him onto, his expression crippled by the excruciating pain he must have felt. An enormous wound had completely swept away part of his body, leaving a big opening in the middle of it. You were screaming at him at the top of your lungs, begging him to spare the last bit of energy he had left in his body. But the ending was the same every damn time; he would use his last breath to reveal to Joseph the secret of The world, Dio’s Stand, and launch his last attack with Emerald Splash. You woke up every time you tried to reach Kakyoin’s body. You were never able to say goodbye to him -  not even in your dreams. The same thing happened with Avdol and Iggy too. You never got the chance to see them one last time, because you were busy fighting elsewhere.

You sighed loudly, stopping yourself from having another breakdown and sipping some tea from your cup. It was in that exact moment, that the phone rang. It was 3:00 AM where you lived, so you expected one of the boys to be on the other end of the telephone. You and the rest of the crusaders exchanged your numbers the last time you saw each other at the airport and had kept in contact ever since. To your surprise, the person you talked the most was Jotaro. You were about the same age and had created a strong bond during your trip, even if you would have never bet on it. Kakyoin used to always joke about your crush on Jotaro, always encouraging you to give it a shot. But things turned out to be too frenetic and dangerous to engage any sort of romantic relationship. Despite that, you would never miss a chance to sit next to each other or just spend most of the time together. The two of you even kissed at one point, but never talked about it again – not even during your strangely long phone calls.

Crawling your feet on the floor of your kitchen, you got up and finally answered the phone: “Hello?”

“Hey.” Jotaro’s deep voice replied. “How come you’re awake? It’s late where you are.” he added.

“You called. Is this a good excuse?” you said lightly laughing, trying to hide the sadness in your voice.

When the sun rose, you were still talking to Jotaro. He asked you about your dream – he knew about your insomnia and your recurring nightmares and just wanted to be there for you. He wasn’t the best at comforting, and most of the time he never dared to say a word; but you knew it was a sensible topic for him too, and the fact that he would let you confide in him was more than enough.

“It’s a big deal for me too.” he said. You just hummed, allowing him to talk freely about what was going on inside his head – and heart. “Sometimes I can barely breathe. I just wish everything was over.” he cut short, clearing his throat immediately after finishing his sentence. Hearing those words from him just broke your heart; he always showed himself as a cold, calm and collected person and never allowed his emotions to have the best of him. He could often come off as an emotionless brute, but you knew it was all a façade that hid a more sensible and soft side of him. A comfortable silence fell between the two of you, only broken by the sound of your breaths. “Don’t hang up.” you said ultimately, letting out a big sigh.

“I won’t. I’m here.” His voice replied, sounding velvet through the telephone.

--

The plane landed after what felt like an eternity, the flight from your country took countless hours to arrive in Japan. At the airport, a member of the Speedwagon foundation was waiting for you, Holly standing next to him. As soon as you got closer to them, Holly quickly fell into your arms, hugging you tightly. ‘I’m so glad you’re here!’ she squeaked, while cupping your cheeks in her hands and showering you with affection. You let out an embarrassed laugh, and after that warm welcome you finally reached the car. You seated in the backseat, tiredly resting your head against the window of your car’s door. You took a quick look at the clock and closed your eyes, trying to get some rest.

When you arrived, Holly gently woke you up. The car was parked in front of the Kujo’s residence, the place where it all started. A fast sequence of memories flashed in front of your eyes as you meticulously watched the house in front of you, remembering exactly how you felt when you arrived the first time, and how you felt when you left. Holly placed and hand on your shoulder and nodded, indicating to you Jotaro’s room. “He wasn’t in a great mood today, he hasn’t been in a while” she said hopelessly. “Just excuse him if he speaks to you rudely.” she added, feeling sorry for the harsh manners her son always displayed. You reassured her smiling, before walking to his room.

Once you stood in front of his door, your heart started beating so loud. A part of you was dying to see the boy you heart belonged to, the other was afraid to see him broken into pieces. But that was the reason why you went there in the first place. You didn’t want to leave him alone anymore. He needed a shoulder to cry on as much as you did – maybe more, if it was possible. You had to be there.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. Heavy footsteps came your way before the door opened, revealing Jotaro’s figure towering over you.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing he-“ he tried to ask, before getting interrupted by your hug; you almost pushed yourself against his body, making him take a step back to not lose balance. You wrapped your arms around his strong torso, breathing in his perfume and holding him as close as humanly possible to you. Being in his arms felt like being at home – a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a while. It wasn’t long before Jotaro reciprocated your hug, hiding his face into your hair and leaving a soft kiss on your head. He closed the door behind you and just held you in his embrace, enjoying the wonderful feeling of being reunited with you. “You don’t know how much I missed you.” he said, not even trying to let you go. You hinted a small laugh, rubbing his muscled back with your right hand. “I can imagine.”, you replied. He slowly distanced himself from you, placing his hands over your cheeks, staring at you with his eyes full of tears. He was scanning every inch of your face and figure, almost as if he wanted to convince himself that you were real, that you were there. He rested his forehead on yours, locking his gaze on yours, making it impossible to break eye contact. “I don’t want to lose you anymore” you whispered. “You saved my life so many times, in so many ways. I always thought it was the wrong time, I always ran away from my feelings but..” you continued, but before you could finish your sentence, he quickly put his lips on yours – shutting you up with a kiss. You could feel tears running on his face. You grabbed the fabric of his shirt and pulled him closer to you, reciprocating the kiss.

“I have loved you since we were 18.” he whispered.

[dameronology]

love in the time of p.t.a meetings {marcus moreno} - 2/5

summary: your kid has taken a liking to marcus moreno - and frankly, so have you {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing, mentions of divorce & very brief mentions of his wife’s death 

i don’t normally update series this quickly but this was originally one imagine that reached about 11k words lmao so it’s all written, just being split up. i’ve also decided it’s gonna be 5 parts instead of 3, cos i reread the ending and realised i was not done by a longshot. enjoy!

- jazz

Mondays. You hated ‘em.

Everything just seemed so...amplified. The peace and relaxation of the weekend was over and everyone had to go back on the grind. The traffic always seemed worst, the clock seemed to tick backwards and you just wanted to be at home, in bed. After an incident involving the dog, a toaster and a small pan fire, you were already running twenty minutes late and you knew in your soul that your child’s shoes weren’t on the right feet. That, and also he was wearing a Chewbacca onesie to school. It had been a compromise. As in, he was refusing to go to school unless you let him wear the damn thing. It was a compromise. You’d lost. 

On the bright side, the past weekend had been the best you’d had in a long time. Jack had spent all of Saturday afternoon at the Heroics headquarters and he was so worn out, he’d slept through all of Sunday. Marcus Moreno must have a been a fucking wizard, because you’d been trying to tire the kid out for five years. You made a mental note to do something in return, though you sensed there was nothing on God’s green earth that could possibly amount to babysitting the world’s most exhausting child for six hours. You were allowed to say that, because Jack was your world’s most exhausting child and you wouldn’t have changed him for anything. 

‘New week, huh buddy?’ You glanced at Jack in your rear view mirror. He was sat on his booster seat, legs dangling back and forth and a power ranger action figure in his hand. ‘A fresh start.’

‘Can we listen to the song from Cars?’ Jack ignored your comment.

‘You gotta try and behave yourself this week. You’ve seen what happens to people who do follow the rules, right? They get to go work at the Heroics-’

‘- I wanna listen to the song from Cars!’

You wanted to have a deep conversation. Jack wanted to listen to Life Is A Highway. That was...actually, it was exactly how you’d expected that to go. It wasn’t that off of the time you were trying to explain your divorce to him and he’d interrupted you to demand that you put Toy Story on. 

‘Sure thing, kid.’ You rolled your eyes, reaching across to hand him on your phone. ‘D’you know how to spell it-’

Your sentence was cut off by the sound of guitars blaring from the speakers. At least he could work out Spotify.

By some miracle, you managed to make it the school with a few minutes to spare. Because most people had dropped their kids off earlier (see: on time), the lot was pretty empty. That meant you could once again dump your car without regard for the painted white lines -- who had time to park properly on a Monday morning? That was for people who had their shit together.

Leaping out the car, you almost cursed when you tripped over your heels. You didn’t have to wear them, but since you’d started working in a managerial role at your office, you figured it made you look a little more professional. And what was the harm in being a few inches taller? It made you feel powerful.

‘C’mon, J.’ You pulled open the back door, helping Jack leap out the car. 

‘You know, I’m starting to think you can’t park your car at all.’

‘Marcus!’ Jack practically flew out the car, his tiny body suddenly jolting with excitement. 

‘Morning, buddy.’ He replied; he then moved his brown eyes to gaze at you, offering a smile. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey, how you doing?’ You greeted him. ‘I don’t normally see you here in the mornings.’

‘Yeah, I normally drop Missy off at the front but it was one of those mornings, you know? She was taking a little more convincing than usual to go in.’

‘My kid is in a Wookiee onesie and backwards Thomas the Tank Engine shoes and you have the audacity to ask me if I know those mornings? I am those mornings.’ You replied.

Marcus chuckled. ‘I think it’s a look. I especially like the Lightning McQueen sunglasses.’

‘Do you have a super suit?’ Jack asked. ‘Can I try it on?’

‘C’mon, Jack. You’ve already managed to get a tour of the HQ.’ You ruffled his hair. ‘And we gotta get going to school.’

‘But I wanna ask more questions.’ He muttered. ‘I have over a hundred.’

‘Don’t I know it.’ You murmured under your breath. ‘But school is more important.’

‘I don’t wanna go anymore.’

‘I let you wear the onesie. That was our agreement, remember?’

‘All good superheroes have to get an education.’ Marcus reasoned. ‘And if you go in, maybe I can show you my suit at some point?’

'Okay!’ Jack grinned. He wrapped his arms around your waist in a quick hug, before peering up at you with a toothy smile. ‘See ya later!’

He turned on his heel and ripped his backpack from your hand, suddenly speeding up the path and towards school. Had...had that just happened? For once in your life, had you not had to wrench him from the car and wrestle him through the school gates? Move aside, Harry Potter, because Marcus Moreno was the new wizard in town. You might have been a little jealous that he was so good with your son but at the same time, it made you like him even more. He was the first parent at the school that had leant into Jack’s wild tendencies. And, whilst you tried not to think too much about it, even his own dad had struggled to do that. It made your heart warm a little. 

‘You are seriously my favourite person.’ You chimed, leaning back against your car. 

‘Kids with character are way more fun than kids who are well-behaved.’ Marcus replied.

‘I spent forty-five minutes scraping string cheese out the USB port of my computer yesterday, but sure.’ 

He chuckled. ‘No, I’m serious. I don’t encourage Missy to misbehave but she does get herself into some situations. I choose to see it as a testament to her intelligence rather than disobedience.’

‘I refuse to believe for a second that Missy ever misbehaves.’ You shot back back. ‘She seems so well-behaved.’

‘What you see in the parking lot is not a reflection of our whole lives.’ He reminded you.

‘Right, because despite appearances, I’m actually a very put together parent.’ You snorted. ‘But I get what you mean.’

‘I gotta get to work now, but it was good to see you.’ Marcus pulled his car keys out his pocket. ‘I was serious about that suit thing, by the way. He saw my katanas on Saturday.’

‘Katanas?’ You spluttered. ‘My kid managed to start a fire last week out of nothing and you want to give him katanas?!’

‘Maybe I can show you how to use them.’ He flashed you a smile. ‘And then you can pass on the knowledge.’ 

‘That’s probably an even worse idea.’ You shook your head with a laugh, pulling open your car door. ‘I’ll see you around.’

‘You as well. Have a good day, pretty lady.’

--

Did you stop thinking about your exchange at any point during the day? Absolutely not. In fact, you’d already written an email to the local deed poll office to change your legal name to Pretty Lady. 

No, but in all seriousness, you’d been a little giddy about it. Had he been flirting? That didn’t seem like a long shot. You got on well, you’d hung out a bit over the weekend and not to toot your own horn, but you were by no means bad looking. Tired and a little frazzled, sometimes? Yeah. But anyone would have been lucky to have you and you were doing a better job at recognising that, especially since your divorce. 

You were almost ecstatic when it got to 4PM and you hadn’t received a single call from Jack’s teachers. That meant that he had behaved, and what Marcus had said had worked. Because you worked past his finishing time, he usually went to the after-school club till you could come to collect him - it had been a lifesaver, especially since you couldn’t always leave early. He usually came home with some kind of weird arts and crafts. Last week, it had been an unidentifiable item made of dried macaroni and glitter. He’d placed it pridefully on the old fireplace in your lounge. 

After saying goodbye to your co-workers, you headed out the building. Your office was right in the city centre and not too far out from the school. It was a nice place to be; your lunch hour, when you could head out to a street cart and eat your food in the local park, was usually the highlight of your day. It was when you could exist just as you. When you were at work, you were in charge on your entire department. When you were home, you were a parent 24/7. That time to yourself was vital.

As you were heading to your car, your phone began to ring. Your heart almost jumped out your chest when you saw Marcus’ name - he hadn’t called you before, only texted to sort out the previous weekend’s plans with Jack. You quickly organised yourself (he couldn’t see you, dumb ass) and cleared your throat.

‘Hey, everything alright?’ You brightly greeted him.

‘Hey! Are you out of work now?’

‘Yeah, I’m literally just leaving. What’s up?’

‘Look, I hate to do this but I’ve had an emergency at work - superhero related, you don’t wanna know - and I’m not gonna be out for hours.’ Marcus sounded stressed. Yeah, I feel that you thought. ‘Would you be able to pick up Missy and possibly have her for a few hours? If not, that’s totally-’

‘- I’d be glad too!’ You interrupted him. ‘I owe you one anyways for the weekend. And this morning, actually.’

‘You don’t owe me anything.’ He sounded surprised that you’d even imply it. ‘But I will definitely owe you for having Missy.’

‘Hey, it’s cool!’ You insisted. ‘Do you want me to drop her off at yours later?’

‘I can come and collect her if you text me your address?’

‘Perfect.’ You smiled. ‘I’ll see you later then?’

‘You’re a lifesaver.’ Marcus said. ‘I’ll text Missy to let her know to find your car instead of mine. I would ask for your plate number, but your car is...’

‘...bright red, covered in dents and hard to miss?’ You finished his sentence.

‘Exactly.’

You’d been in the same situation before; pulled between work and parenting, with Jack stuck at school and an important meeting that felt like it was never ending. It was hard to get a sitter on such short notice - or afford one, sometimes - and it was just another one of the million, stressful situations that single parenting could get you into. If you could help Marcus even a little bit, of course you were going to. You knew he’d do the same for you. Heck, he had done the same for you.

Jack and Missy were both chatty on the way home. Given that she was a little older than him, her conversational skills were strikingly better. It was nice to ask someone about their day and not get where are my Cheetos? as an answer. From what you gathered, she hated science class, enjoyed gym, and her favourite subject was lunch. That didn’t come as a surprise to you - her dad was a literal superhero and probably encouraged physical activity.

(You’d seen his arms, okay? They were more than enough to go on. I digress).

The only thing that made you wish you’d had a little more notice on having her for the evening was the state of your apartment. The place wasn’t bad; you’d lived there for the better part of eight years, and it was crammed with soft furniture and millions of blankets, as well as photos of you and Jack and his questionable art projects. It was just that you hadn’t done the dishes that morning, there was a mountain of shoes by the door and the pancakes from the previous night were still stuck on the roof.

Missy barely blinked an eye; the minute she saw your dog, she’d abandoned her bag and was playing with him. 

‘Hey buddy!’ She grinned. ‘What’s he called?’

‘That’s Oppy.’ You replied, hanging your jacket up. She didn’t need to know that it was short for Optimus Prime. No guesses on whose idea that had been. 

‘He’s so cute!’ Missy continued. ‘I’ve been asking dad for a dog for ages but he won’t budge.’

For some reason, that surprised you a little. Marcus might have been the leader of a super-hero team and a public figure, but you could tell he would do anything for his daughter. You knew because it was the same for you with Jack. He might have ruled your whole life but you would have hung the damn stars in the sky for him if he asked 

‘They’re a lot of work.’ You reasoned. ‘I have to wake up every morning at 6AM to make sure he gets a walk. Then there’s the matter of-’

‘- mum! Optimus Prime pooped in the bathroom!’

‘The matter of that.’ You murmured under your breath.

The rest of the evening went pretty smoothly. You fed the kids some leftover takeaway and between the dog and Netflix, they were easily entertained. Jack seemed to take a liking to Missy, which was good because it meant he wanted to sit with her the entire time instead of bouncing off the walls. She had the same patience as her dad, especially when he asked her a million questions about superheroes. It took her twenty minutes to convince him that Batman wasn’t her uncle, and a further fifteen to make him believe that she hadn’t met Captain America. 

Jack had asked you a few times about whether or not he would get siblings. Of course, it would be different to any interactions with Missy because he would have been the oldest, but it did get you thinking. You were finally in a place where you were moving past your former relationship and healing from the wounds. Time wasn’t much of an issue either - you’d had Jack when you were young and barely out of college. You couldn’t possibly imagine having any more kids right now, not when it was just the two of you, but in the future? You’d never rule out meeting somebody new. If anything, you were hopeful. Your first relationship had been your only one, and it had ended badly. You wanted to experience love for what it actually was, and not what you thought it was supposed to be. 

Not long after 7PM, there was a knock on your door. By that point, both Missy and Jack had passed out on the sofa with Star Wars playing quietly in the background. It had been her idea to watch it - she had good taste. Marcus had clearly done a good job.

‘Hey!’ You greeted him as you pulled open the front door. ‘Come in quick, it’s fucking freezing out there.’

‘Thank you.’ Marcus came inside, dusting a few snow flakes out his hair. ‘Seriously, I can’t say it enough-’

‘- it’s fine!’ You shook your head, offering him a smile. ‘Missy’s been great. She’s really chatty and it was nice to have a coherent conversation with someone that isn’t about Paw Patrol. But was everything at the office okay?’

He was quiet for a minute. ‘Yeah. We uh, we lost someone. A hero.’

‘Shit, man. I’m sorry.’ Your voice fell quiet. ‘You wanna come in? You look like you could probably take a moment.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course! Missy and Jack are both asleep on the couch anyways.’ You pointed through to the living room. Marcus leant over to have a look, smiling slightly at the sight. 

‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’

He took a seat at the kitchen counter. Your old bar stools were a little old and wobbly, but Marcus didn’t seem to notice. If anything, he admired the place. It was cluttered as hell and filled with useless, old items - cook books you didn’t use, random magnets, assorted toys - but it was nice. His house always felt a little cold and clinical. He’d moved a lot over the course of Missy’s life and now that he was retired from the field, he’d sworn to her that their current house was going to be permanent. Whether or not it felt like home was another question entirely. 

‘I would offer you a drink but all I have is..’ you paused, opening the fridge. ‘Nesquik, vodka or apple juice.’

‘You know what? A Nesquik doesn’t sound too bad.’

‘I like your thinking, Moreno.’

After quickly fixing up the two drinks, you slid into the seat beside him and handed him one. You had never in a million years imagined a situation where Marcus Moreno would be in your kitchen drinking chocolate milk, but here we were. It had clearly been a long day for him and you had enough of those to last a lifetime, so you knew how it felt. Coming home after a day that had beat your ass into the ground and having to put on a brave face for your kids was difficult at best. 

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ You gently asked.

‘Yeah, I’ll be okay - it just always fucks me up a bit.’ Marcus murmured quietly. ‘Hits a little too close to home.’

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that you knew what had happened to his wife. You knew why he’d retired, and why he and Missy had moved away from their original city six years ago.

‘Sorry, that was too deep-’

‘- it wasn’t!’ You quickly cut him off. ‘I’ve had random women come up to me at pick up time and say they’re sorry to hear about my divorce. People I don’t even know. So really, after that, nothing is too much.’ 

He smiled slightly. ‘They always say they’re sorry but why would you bring up a subject if you have to apologise for it?’

‘Exactly!’ You replied. ‘Especially when I’ve moved on. It’s been a year.’

‘It’s the same with me. Missy and I miss her everyday but we don’t mope about it. We just...we look back with fondness on the good memories we have. You can’t move forward if you’re stuck in the past, no matter how much it sucks.’

‘That’s...that’s wise.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘S’pose that means I should take down the dartboard I have with my ex’s face on.’

‘From what I’ve heard, he seems like he should have more than a dart board.’ Marcus snorted - then he froze. ‘Wait, not that I’ve heard stuff, I mean...I don’t listen-’

‘- Marcus!’ You whacked his arm. ‘It’s fine. One of the other kid’s mums started telling me about the terrible divorce someone was going through but she realised she was gossiping to the one who was going through it.’

‘I don’t know how much of what I’ve been told is true, but it sounds like it was bad.’ His hand hovered over where yours was rested on the counter. 

‘The rumours pretty much get the gist of it.’ You replied. ‘But we were talking about your thing, so I don’t wanna take away from that.’

‘Hey, it’s okay.’ He finally moved his hand, fingers gently curling underneath yours to intertwine them. ‘If even half of the whispers are true, he sounds like an asshole. You and Jack both deserve better than that.’

Whatever people had said, it had sort of covered the gist of it. You’d married too young and had a kid too young - your ex had been a terrible husband and an even worst husband. He’d chastised Jack for being...well, being Jack. He’d stay out late with his friends, spend money on things neither of you needed and tried to make you take the blame for it all. After giving him a few too many chances, you’d finally reached breaking point and kicked him out. Filing for divorce and taking on being a single parent was single-handedly the hardest and bravest thing you’d ever had to do. In a way, you were glad you’d done it when Jack was still so young - he didn’t really understand any of it, even when you’d try to explain it in child friendly terms.

‘I think people judge me for it a little sometimes.’ You confessed. ‘They see me struggling but they know I made the choice to separate from him, like I brought it all on myself.’

‘That’s bullshit.’ Marcus plainly stated. ‘Parenthood isn’t a dependent thing based on whether or not you’re still married to the other parent. It’s unconditional and permanent.’

‘I should tell him that, but I also don’t want him back in our lives.’

‘I know it’s none of my business, but he doesn’t deserve Jack. He’s one of the best and brightest kids I’ve ever met.’

‘Thank you. I’m glad he doesn’t seem like a complete lunatic.’

‘He doesn’t deserve you either.’ Marcus continued. ‘Again, I might be out of place saying this but you are...you’re amazing. I was a wreck when I was suddenly on my own and you’re still holding everything together and working your ass off.’ 

‘You’ve noticed?’ You quirked an eyebrow.

‘Yeah, in passing.’ He admitted. ‘I remember I once saw you carrying three separate science projects at once and then Carol made a passing comment that you were on your own and...I just kinda admired you from afar.’

‘You, Marcus Moreno, admired me?’ You blinked at him in disbelief. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘I wish I’d had my shit together half as much as you did when I lost Missy’s mum.’ 

‘But the difference is you didn’t have a choice in your situation. I chose to boot his dad out-’

‘- you gotta stop discrediting yourself.’ He shook his head. ‘And stop blaming yourself. You did what was right for your kid and that is the most admirable thing of all.’

‘You really think so?’

‘I know so.’

The conversation slowly drizzled away, leaving you two to just look at each other. It was hard to tear yourself away from his brown eyes - there was a lot going on behind them. Fear, pain, anguish, admiration. He was one of the most mind-blowingly impressive people you’d ever met; single dad, superhero, electric car owner. He probably didn’t have a mortgage too and that was kinda hot. You were none of those things and yet, here he was, with you, managing to connect on a level that you never had with anyone. Both of your situations were tough, but they’d brought you together. 

Marcus Moreno was pretty fucking fearless (came with the job, you figured), and he wasn’t afraid to make the first move. He slowly inched his head forward and in return, you gravitated towards him. Your lips met halfway in a soft kiss, his hands moving to firmly hold your waist as he pulled you closer.

You almost stumbled out your chair with the movement, but his grip on your hips meant you didn’t slip. Instead, he placed you up on the counter, standing up as he did. It took you a moment to adjust to the position, but with your legs resting on either side of his, you could reach forward and lean on him. You had one hand tangled in his hair and the other on the back of his neck -  you’d surprised yourself with that. It had been months since you’d kissed anyone, but you weren’t as rusty as you thought. 

‘Oh my god, is the superhero gonna be my new dad?!’

Marcus suddenly jumped backwards at the sound of Jack’s voice. He was stood in the doorway, post-nap hair covered by a lopsided Chewbacca hood. His eyes were like dinner plates, even though he was grinning from ear to ear. 

‘Uh...’ you glanced between him and Marcus. ‘We were just...we were...’

‘I had something in my eye.’

‘He had something in his eye.’ You quickly agreed. ‘But now it’s out, so Marcus is gonna go home.’

He knew you didn’t mean it rudely - it was more of a desperation thing. The longer he stayed, the more questions Jack would come out with. Missy could have overheard too and that would have been twice as much to explain. So really, the sooner he got out, the better.

‘Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll grab Missy.’ Marcus said, scratching the back of his head. ‘Thank you again for looking after her.’

‘You don’t need to keep thanking me.’ You shot back. 

He disappeared into the living room for a moment, reemerging with a sleeping Missy in his arms a moment later. Your eyes met again, and he gave you a soft smile.

‘I’ll call you.’

‘Yeah, sure.’  You nodded. ‘See you, Marcus.’

--

True to character, the next hour was spent being pelted with questions from your over-curious son. He didn’t shut up once when you were bathing him and he got even louder when you were reading him his best time story. On the bright side, you’d managed to get him to change out of his slightly manky Wookiee onesie and into a clean Buzz Lightyear one. Normally, you would have argued that he couldn’t live in pyjamas, but if it kept him quiet? It was a price you were willing to pay. 

‘Night, kiddo.’ You pressed a kiss to his forehead, switching on his nightlight. ‘Remember our deal, yeah? If I buy you a Happy Meal tomorrow, you won’t mention what you saw to any of your friends?’

‘You said library was bad.’

‘No, it’s bribery.’ You corrected him. ‘And do as I say, not as I do.’

‘Sounds bad, but okay.’ He sleepily murmured. ‘Night.’

‘Night.’ You stood up, flicking out his bedroom lights.

‘Wait, mum!’ Jack suddenly sat up, as though he’d remembered something. ‘You never said no.’

‘No to what, buddy?’

‘When I asked if the superhero was my new dad.’

Well, fuck. 

taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles​ @bitchin-beskar​ @comphersjost​ {message me to be added!}

[wizkiddx]

a father and daughter

I don't normally hop on the whole dad!tom thing, but this idea kinda popped up and wouldn't leave me alone. Hope everyone is having a lovely festive period and wish you all well in the new year x x x

Summary: Tom really struggles to get into the parenting thing, and finds it tricky balancing work and his relationship with baby daughter

Tom loved being a Dad. It had only been a couple of months, meaning your baby girl was still very much a baby - yet still he had no doubt, this was the best job one could ever ever do. To be honest he was quite regretting agree to the few work commitments he had started to ease back into too. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford to go these months without work, which not many had the luxury of saying - but in this industry work agreements were lined up years before and he was never one to disappoint. 

Of course, as soon as you both had found out you were expecting, he’d withdrawn from the big filming project across the world but that didn’t mean he avoided the odd week of press, or a couple days flying abroad for fittings and meetings. By absolutely no means would you ever class him as a slightly ‘absent’ dad, you completely understood and when he was home did way more than his fair share with Amelie.

But Tom felt guilty and he felt like he was inferior to you in parenting ability. And you knew that was for one reason and one reason only. He did not have boobs. 

You were well aware that as much as you loved Amelie needing you so much and so often - sometimes being the only person able to soother her - was because all she wanted was to drain you of milk. She was clearly going to be a Daddy’s girl, and who could blame her when her Dad was Tom. But for right now, a mere 5 months old - she loved you because she loved your tit. 

The first time you had noticed Tom’s growing frustration was right after his first evening work commitment since her arrivel, he’d been on a UK chat show earlier in the evening and as encouraged by you, had taken the opportunity to have a few drinks after with his brothers and friends. By no means did he return late, barely midnight, but he did return just a little tipsy. You were still up choosing to have a little movie night to yourself, whilst Amelie slept in the Moses basket next to the couch. Just before Tom got back though, she had woken up and for no reason was the smiliest little girl. So when Tom let himself into the front door, he was greeted with the sound of Amelie’s little bubbles of laughter, while you spoke in baby language - pulling ridiculous faces and laughing with her. 

“Someones smiley” Tom laughed as he plopped down on the sofa next to you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and wrapping his arm round your shoulder as he smiled at Amelie. 

“Aren’t you Meelie? How was the show love?” You asked, as you held Amelie in a sitting position on your thighs so she was staring at you both. 

“Hmm it was nice, couldn’t make myself stay for too long though… just missed my girls.” His voice was a little rough, something that happens after talk show and then almost shouting over the obnoxiously loud music in the pub after. Amelie, laughed again at his words, almost taunting her Dad’s attachment to her, making both of you burst out laughing. She already had you both wrapped round her very little finger. 

Shaking your head, you passed her over to Tom muttering needing a wee and made a quick escape. Ever since you had her, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave her unattended - meaning you had almost made your kidneys explode holding in a wee waiting for Tom to get back. Yet as soon as you made it out the door, the bubbling innocent laughter turned into screams - but at that point you’d already made it out the doorframe - marking that as Tom’s issue to handle. Unfortunately the wails continued, very very loud and proud, and when you returned Tom was pacing slowly around the lounge with a grimace on his face as Amelie screamed into his shoulder. 

“I’ll stay up with her if you want.” You offered, knowing Tom without sleep and having to listen to her racket all night would have an impressively worse hangover tomorrow. 

“No I got it, think she needs a change.” Tom countered, even though you were pretty sure she wanted a feed, since it had been a good couple of hours from the last. He noticed your hesitance and shooed you out the room “I got it love, you’ve had her all evening.” 

“You know where I’ll be” You smiled lightly, leaving them downstairs as you got ready for bed.

It was after about 10 minutes of thrashing about guiltily in your otherwise empty bed, you gave in to the still continuous screaming. Amelie clearly was just hungry, even if Tom refused to admit it and bring her to you. So with a deep sigh you gave in, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and trudged downstairs. Tom was still stood up, taking gentle bouncing steps as Amelie apparently tried to deafen him. Once he saw you, with a defeated look, Tom offered her to you. Instantly, as if you just had the ability to turn the crying switch on her off- Amelie stopped crying and blinked away the tears in her eyes, whilst waiting patiently for you to offer her your nipple. While you were busy trying to get her to latch on, you just caught Tom muttering something as he trudged up to bed without so much as a good night. 

Then a couple months later a similar thing occurred. Tom had been away in New York for 5 days, a little press stint that he had under no circumstances been able to get off. At first all had been well but two days since he returned, Tom insisted you finally had an evening out with the girls - to be honest, after spending the best part of a week alone with Meelie you graciously took it. Oh, and also of importance for context, Amelie spoke her first word while he was away… Mama. 

You’d left that morning, your best friend taking you on a spa day before - so by the time Tom called you at 11 in the evening, he’d spent a good portion of the day with Amelie vehemently denying to do anything at all apart from yell- yelling “NO MAMA.” So fair to say he was pissed. You answered the phone with a soft smile, honestly finding spending this much time apart from Amelie really hard and guilt-inducing. 

“Hey Tom everything okay?”

“Um when do you think you’ll be back?” He spoke straight and to the point, clearly not in the mood for small talk. 

“I don’t think too long, is everything alright?” His tone made you so much more concerned,  now worrying that something had happened. 

“No no everything’s fine. Just… just been a long day.”

“Okay well I’ll be back soon I promise. I love you.”

“Yeh yeh um you too” He didn’t mean to be short. Nor to make you worried. He didn’t hate you - far the opposite, he hated how much Amelie loved you. 

If he was being honest, he just felt like a bit of a failure of a father. As a child himself, Tom had always been incredibly close to his mum and thought the typical rule was mummy’s boys and daddy’s girls stood. So why then, did his child appear to absolutely detest him with every look. Especially because, given the nature of his job, once Tom went back to actually shooting films again he’d be around much less - and that the relationship between him and Amelie would at least be geographically strained. Unrequited love is always the worst and ultimately most painful, especially when it involves your own child. 

This underlying and unspoken tension fizzled away for a decent amount of months and Tom went on his first job. At this point you were no longer breastfeeding, but still you knew that purely instinctively if Amelie was ever scared, upset or unhappy she would seek you first. It was bloody obvious to you that she did love Tom, she chuckled away like no tommorrow when he played with her and spun her round the room. And yet, you could still tell Tom wasn’t completely convinced and still seemed , just a bit aware and hesitant. 

In there ever needed to be any proof though, it must’ve been how stroppy Amelie got once Tom left. In short, for you, it was hell. You ended up constantly wearing Tom’s t-shirts, not for you but because the mild but lingering scent of him seemed to soothe Amelie when she was fussing. She would never giggle like she did when her silly Daddy was here to be her personal comedian. She had, however, finally learnt how to say Dada - which now she was shouting impressively at every point apart from when you tried to film it. She was a little devil, its like she knew exactly what to do to make you life as hard as possible - keeping you dealing with an unhappy Tom. You tried to tell him, when you were on FaceTime each evening - but no matter how many times you promised, it seemed that Tom had a hard time believing you. 

He was filming in Germany, which meant it wasn’t actually ‘that’ far from your London home and after two weeks he flew back for a weekend. You were incredibly excited- not just to seeing Tom, which of course you where; but also ,hopefully, for him to feel some sort of assurance in his ability as a parent. He needed to see her, Amelie needed her Daddy and you… you needed a rest. 

That evening, you had had her balanced on your hip as you rushed to make the house look somewhat presentable (because single parenting was not easy) but Amelie had thrown a fit so with a slightly immature passive aggressive comment to your 11 month old daughter you put her on her play mat and carried on. It was a bit of a risk if you were quite honest, she was more than just a crawler - she perfected the art of bum shuffling and was starting to on occasion try to stand up. But you were in the same room so surely little harm could come to her in the ‘over-the-top-ly’ baby proofed living room - Tom’s doing of course. 

So keeping one eye on Amelie and the other on the almost terrifyingly big stack of discarded toys you set about tidying up. It was all going swimmingly until your thoughts about how on earth you were going to hide all the crap were abruptly interrupted with a garbled screech of “DADA!”

You instantly whipped your head round to watch Amelie stumble and basically throw herself the couple of steps to the doorway where Tom stood. You had absolutely no clue how long he’d been standing there but that was all insignificant watching him sweep you little girl into his arms, before she could career to the floor (headfirst of course). His eyes were bugging out of his head, as she giggled and laughed in his strong grasp before astutely throwing her head into the crook of his neck, demanding to be cuddled by him. 

It was almost hilarious, how utterly shocked Tom looked at the real life proof that his baby girl had missed him. Once he met your eyes he used the hand supporting Amelies back to point at her in a questioning manner, making you roll your eyes at just how oblivious and stubborn he is. 

“She’s missed her Dad!” You smiled, as you walked toward him and pecked his lips. “You got this down here if I finally get some peace upstairs?” 

Because yes, you’d missed your husband and wanted to spend all night wrapped in his arms. But really? There was a more important way the evening should pass, finally Tom getting his moment with Amelie. So without so much as even a ‘how was your flight’ you left the two in the living room - you making a beeline to the bath, for just a moment to yourself. 

It was perhaps even a little shocking to yourself that you were so confident you could leave them alone for the evening. Because really, if Amelie started acting up suddenly again, this could be where Tom’s confidence as a dad goes from ‘ropey at best’ to ‘non-existent’. Except you were so certain in the fact that just wouldn’t happen. If she was hungry she’d take the bottle from Tom (which she never did from you without arguement ). 

And so you had possible the most relaxing time in the bath - actually alone for the first time in two weeks. 

It wasn’t until you quietly walked down the stairs two hours later that you got a bit suspicious of the silence downstairs. Cautiously you peered your head round the doorframe and you didn’t even try to stifle the beaming smile spread across your face. Because there was your husband, lying semi-reclined on the arm of the sofa, his arms wrapped protectively round Amelie who looked incredibly content snuggled up to her dad at last. They were both fast asleep and the sight was just so sweet it actually hurt your  heart, meaning only naturally you had sneak a picture of them both. It was infuriating how you knew you had to wake him up - it is a little irresponsible to leave her lying on top of him on the couch and you kinda wanted to cuddle up to Tom this evening too. 

So with a gentle touch rubbing and down his right arm it only took a moment or two till he suddenly blinked his eyes open, eyes looking quickly between your eyes and Amelie - his grasp on her had instinctively tightened a little.

“Hey” You whispered softly, watching him notice how calm Amelie looked on his chest.

“Mhmm hey.” His voice was slightly croaky, probably from the exhaustion of two weeks of hard work. 

“You guys friends then?” You whispered while combing your ginger nails though Amelies little curls at the base of her neck - she was most deifnetly a Holland. 

“She did really miss me?” Tom asked, still half not believing as he shuffled up on the sofa so he was sitting more upright. 

“To the point she had me wrapping the pillows in your unwashed t-shirts.” You giggled as his bottom lip pouted into a visible ‘awh’. 

“Come on lets get you both to bed.” 

Without much complaint, but keeping her in his arms, Tom nodded and followed you up to bed. But that night instead of getting your way and having Tom cuddling you, he pouted until you let him lie Amelie down in the middle of the bed between you two . 

But seeing the way he grinned at her in the dark, almost fighting to stay awake as he looked at her, the prospect seemed a lot more attractive. 

And that was more than fine by you.  

[kth1]

Cut Shot [MYG]

Cut Shot [Yoongi x Reader] ⟶ Credit: @kimtaehyunq​​ ⟶ Genre: Smut | 21+| Boyfriend AU | One Shot ⟶ Warnings: Established relationship, explicit, oral (M/F), alcohol use, condom sex, massage oil, lovey-dovey-flirtations, hint of cute jealousy, etc ⟶ WC: 10k+ ⟶ Summary: He hates the water, he hates the heat, and he hates the Sun. Any form of physical activity is a big no-no, yet Min Yoongi will go out of his way to show that he loves you on your mini vacation. ⟶ Teaser: “Breathlessly nodding your head, you drone at the loss of his fingers. You beam a hazy smile, the post orgasm paradise you swim in radiates off you. “Let me help you,” your arms stretch out to him.” ⟶ Beta Reader: None other that @shadowsremedy​ (thank you for doing this in a timely manner 🧡 you’re awesome!) ⟶ Author’s Note: This fic is apart of @jamaisjoons​ Summer Bucket List Collab. This is my very first collab I have been apart of and I am very happy to have been associated with this project!

The blistering sun beams from above, heat rising scorching hot off the sands. Seagulls squawking in the distance, some scavenging around for disposed food – or snatching some from the unattained.

Yoongi trudges along the beach, black Raybands sit on the bridge of his adorable button nose, a large sunhat, sandals, an excessive tropical theme button-up shirt, and obnoxiously colored swim trunks to set his attire. With each step he takes, his feet kick up sand behind him, a half empty beer in hand in a pink koozie snuggled around the bottle as he sips away at his delicious beverage, merrily.

He sees you ahead, prancing around on the beach volleyball courts with your pony-tail rung high and skin glistening in the light. Right beside those said courts is his destination – the row of canopy tents that provided him his only relief. Shade!

Groups of people huddle around the area, humans of all ages, shapes, color, and size. He secretly hopes the smaller children applied much more sunscreen than normally, especially how they’ve been in and out of the ocean’s water at least five times now. But who’s counting?

Yoongi trails himself back to your shared designated tent, plopping himself down on the double wide reclining lawn chair. Here, he gets a front row seat at your court and some relaxing shade. Feet up, cooler full of snackable food and drinks besides him, and the best view in town – you.

You, the outgoing bubbly beauty, are playing a fun pick-up game with the rest of your party along with a handful of locals. Volleyball is your game much like music is Yoongi’s muse. Even with several differences in interest, the two of you get along quite well emotionally. 

Many times Yoongi catches you thanking Hoseok for introducing you to him, in all honesty that is the only way he would notice you. Yoongi prefers to stay in isolation, nose shoved deep in a music sheet or much too invested in staying in bed all day. Once in a while he will strike up a game of basketball with his friend group, but only on a good day.

At first Yoong was incredibly confused towards you. Why would you want to meet him? Who even were you and when or how did you guys ever run into another? Upon Hoseok’s persistent pleading, insisting that he ‘has a good feeling about the two of you’, Yoongi eventually agreed to meet up with this friend of Hoseok’s.

It was a small date, nothing fancy, just a warm afternoon coffee meet up in the middle of September. Yoongi sat with phone in hand, iced americano in the other, at the bar seats set up at the windowpane in the front of the store of the local café. He was so indulged at tapping away on his phone, he didn’t even register the presence of another standing right next to him. You found it utterly adorable how Yoongi nearly spat out his drink as he stood up to greet you properly, profusely apologizing for his behavior.

Yoongi admitted, he remained skeptical throughout the date, though he was completely intrigued by you. Not only were you attractive in his eyes, cute with a bit of a feisty bite, he admired the way you spoke. You had a hidden passion behind your words – you spoke with confidence, sometimes even assertive… and he liked that.

But, what he enjoyed most is how you would get lost in your words, ranting long sentences when you hadn’t realized you had said too much. Something about the way you talked perked his ears like a silent harp playing in the background of the world. What Yoongi noticed after that date was how you kept his attention the entire time. How it seemed that the two of you were vastly different in many ways, but he found something in you that reeled him in instantly. Before bidding goodbye after the cheap coffee date, he reached for your hand as he asked if you would like to do this again sometime.

Nine months later, he finds himself sitting court side to your beach volleyball game. On vacation with a few of his closest friends at a beach house along the coast. A quick getaway from home, promises of having some game nights and visiting a few touristy areas. The group was partially here to support you at your annual volleyball competition, but other than that they came to party.

“Got it!” you shout, alerting Hoseok – your current teammate – that you were receiving the ball. Yoongi watches as you dive forward into the tan sands, getting an arm under the ball just in time to pop it up for Hoseok to assist.

On the other side of the net, acting as your current rivals were Jungkook and Hoseok’s long-term girlfriend, Haru. They readied themselves up for a freeball to come over, acting fast when Hoseok sent the ball to the deep back corner of the court.

It is worth it to Yoongi to see your beautiful smile light up as you were enjoying the hobby you love most, watch you ravish the sport as if it were your natural element. The sweat beads off of your brow, forearms, even soaked the fabric slightly under each of your breasts of your bikini top. 

A small bickering emits from Jungkook by the looks of it, clearly arguing about something that he finds unfair but it soon washes over from Hoseok kicking up sand at another for the sake of giggles. 

You walk your way over to the tent with Haru after the two rambunctious men chase another towards the ocean. Your boyfriend, who looked completely unbothered by the environment around him even though you knew he’d do anything to be back inside with the cool air conditioner, welcomes you with a warm smile and an iced cold water bottle from the cooler that he has been monitoring because it harbors all the beers. 

“Hey babe,” you lean down, placing a quick peck to Yoongi’s plump lips. He tastes the salt of your sweat, and you taste the alcohol on his breath. “Day drinking much earlier than yesterday?”

Yoongi shrugs in his chair, tilting his head back to finish off his current beverage, “It’s 5pm somewhere... It’s a vacation after all.”

You guzzle down your fresh water, towel wrapping around your neck to help pat down the glistening sweat that coats you. “I’m not judging,” you smile with a wink, “just observing. I don’t want you to be bored.” 

“I’m not bored when I watch you. Plus it’s fun to see Jungkook get riled up.” 

Grabbing hold of one of the many randomly scattered candy bags, Jungkook’s unhealthy snack choices at it’s finest, you settle with a few gummy worms to toss in your mouth. “He does get worked up fast when it comes to games.” The two of you laugh while looking over at the ocean to see Jungkook having Hoseok flipped over his shoulder and walking deeper in the water for a proper body slam. 

“What should we have for dinner tonight? Home cooked or take-out?” Haru inquires, scanning over her phone for local restaurants that may peek the group’s interest. 

Yoongi checks the time on his watch, grimacing at the thought of food shopping so soon when it nearly took you all three hours. A wad of cash was eliminated from his bank account, in the store to pack for the trip in the first place. Thankfully you had offered to him that he wouldn’t have to pay a single dime the entire vacation to make up for covering everyone that day. 

“Let’s grab a bite somewhere, I’ve been to a place called Poseidon’s, lots of seafood and such! My treat.” You gleam a smile towards Yoongi who’s eyes widened at the word seafood, knowing very well how your man enjoys himself some nice cooked lobster. 

Another day, another play. 

Ever since visiting this great spot, your party visited the beach nearly every day! You on the other hand had no choice in the matter because you were practicing for your tournament at the end of the week with your partner. Annually, your old high school best friend and you would sign up for this beach tournament, catch up with another and reminisce on the younger years. It was only for the first week that you’d be tied to this obligation and luckily your group booked the rental house for two weeks, giving you more time with your friends afterwards. 

Maggie, someone who you grew up with ever since befriending another in middle school, was your go-to gal for years before college separated another. She continued to a division one school on an all paid scholarship for volleyball. Your interests were a bit more separate from hers and you find yourself attending a creative arts school, division three, but you still continued to play for your schools team. As much as volleyball will forever be embedded into your blood, you found a new focus when it came to creativity and joined a school where you’d learn how to become a creative director of some sorts. 

Together, Maggie and you spent most days making up the lost time. Your group was more than understanding prior to even agreeing to this vacation, and you all promised to make it worthwhile. One day, Yoongi had joined Maggie, her boyfriend Taehyung, and you on a lunch date. You were happy Yoongi showed up, given the fact that he’s a bit introverted and shy, but regardless the lunch went smoothly and to both Maggie’s and yours surprise - the two of you had found out that Taehyung and Yoongi knew another because they, too, went to the same high school.

Now, as you practice your heart out on the beach courts, Hoseok and Yoongi are padding their feet across the hot sands, hauling the belongings with a small wagon, far away from sight. 

“I know the basics - the idea of how to play.” Yoongi insists, “I just want to be able to play with her. Nothing fancy.” 

“Sounds pretty fancy to me. C’mon she’s the first girl to get you up off your ass. You must like her enough to endure the summer heat, exercising, the sun…” Hoseok counts off his fingers one by one.

“Alright, alright. I get it.” Yoongi shoves Hoseok in the shoulder. “Just get on with it and show me what I need to do.” 

“Ok, first, you smile wide like this!” Hoseok giggles and manages to duck just in time from Yoongi’s flying hand. 

The two pivot themselves off in the distance, much further down the beach than the volleyball courts could see, and far away from your view. To your knowledge the entire group dispersed to enjoy whichever activities they wish to do while you practiced with your partner. What you didn’t know is that Yoongi had asked Hoseok, on one of his drunken moods, for some one-on-one training so that he can pick up on the hobby you love most - to surprise you by the end of vacation and play a game of pick-up with you. 

“Pass this!” Abruptly, Hoseok chucks the beach volleyball at Yoongi - only for him to naturally catch it with his hands. “No! Shake that basketball reflex, arms together! And extend! Make a platform - now pass it.” 

Biting back his sharp tongue, Yoongi tosses the ball back for Hoseok to repeat the action, this time now he is prepared to pass it effortlessly with his forearms. 

“Great!” Hoseok squabbles, “but, now you need the proper position. Bend your knees.” 

“I have to bend them?” Yoongi reacts with a distasteful gesture. 

“Center of gravity needs to be low for movement. Don’t plant your feet! The sand makes it much harder to move in.” He scolds with a push of his hands to Yoongi’s back, knocking the older man off balance. “See, you’re off center!” 

Yoongi scoffs, “Pushing me around isn’t helping!” He fixes his friend with a stern glare through his cat-like eyes.

“Yeah, but it makes you focus. You do better when someone’s on your ass. I hear it all the time back at the apartment, Y/n is a bit… assertive in the bedroom.” Hoseok winks, eyes squinting from corner to corner. 

“It’s no better compared to the amount of broken furniture that came from your room,” Yoongi quickly retorts, “even the damn couch is still broken!”

Hoseok shrugs, “not my fault both Haru, and you enjoy being bossed around by their significant others.” 

Yoongi retaliates, “It’s not being bossed, maybe in your case, but not mine. We go both ways.” 

Hoseok tosses the ball once again, hoping to pepper aimlessly with Yoongi and get him used to moving around, “You sure about that? You’re a passive person, Yoongi. Even I can pick on you and get away with it.” Hoseok taunts with a light heart, returning the ball back and forth between the two of them. 

“Not everything is about being physical.” 

Hoseok smirks, a judging last look before lightly hitting the volleyball down into Yoongi’s platform with the snap of his wrist, “We have a lot to work on, especially when it comes to hand setting. Maybe tomorrow when Y/n isn’t around we can snag a court and play a game with Haru and Kook.”

“We’ve exhausted spades, go-fish, and even tried blackjack.” Jungkook slurs his words around the neck of his beer bottle. He curls up along the armchair where he aimlessly stares up at the ceiling fan, counting out how many times it spins until forgetting where he left off. 

“Well, it’s not the weekend just yet, so the bars won’t be that fun right now.” You speak, a small smile spread across your face as you glance over the table at your boyfriend who is nose deep into another playing card manual. 

Jungkook’s large eyes look at you with hope, “will you go bar hopping with us when we do?”

“We’ll see how tired I am after the tourney, but I would love to, Kook!” 

“Bullshit!” Hoseok’s voice pierced through the sound of pop music playing from Haru’s phone, hand slapping the table timed at the sound of his voice with a finger pointed up on the other as if a lightbulb had gone off above his head. Everyone glances over at him from the sudden outburst, “we haven’t played bullshit yet!” 

You blink, shock value very evident on your face at Hoseok’s accusation. “For a second I thought you were calling me out, saying I wasn’t going to go out.” Laughing, you gather up a handful of playing cards that scattered the tabletop and begin shuffling the deck. 

“Well, that too. We’ve been here only a few days, but you’ve been a bit too busy for some things. And a bit cranky at night too.” Haru jabs Hoseok with her elbow to his side, making him wince the moment her pointy bone contacted him. 

Raising a questioning eyebrow at him, you briefly peeped over at Yoongi who only raised his shoulders to indicate his indifferences under your stare. 

“I’m sorry,” you mutter. “This tournament is important to me, and it’ll be over just after the weekend. We’ll still have a few extra days for activities.”

“Yeah, noona is going to dance with me. It’s already set.” Sweet, drunken Jungkook sighs, head tilt back on his chair. His lips pursed, eyes closed as he imagines the upcoming bar crawl. 

Yoongi interjects, head snapping up to glare over Jungkook, “You’re not going to get all handsy with my girlfriend.” He frowns, tossing a handful of papers to the side. “There’s plenty of single locals here. You’ll have no problem picking one up at a bar.” 

Jungkook peeks one eye open, a cocky grin drawn to his face, “Worried about me taking Y/n?” 

You sit there rolling your eyes, Hoseok too preoccupied by Haru snuggling up against him, and Yoongi death staring Jungkook - probably lighting him on fire in his mind. 

“As if.” Yoongi challenges, grabbing hold of his almost empty drink to finish off with one swig. 

“Guess noona never told you about Valentine’s day weekend? It was magical.” Jungkook snickers, until the push of Yoongi’s chair alerts the younger one of his hyung standing up, ready to go straight for Jungkook. Quickly, the tyrant Jungkook, jumps himself off the chair, throwing a pillow back towards Yoongi as he scampers his way down the hall, away from Yoongi’s wrath and out of view. 

Yoongi shakes his head, “this kid is always so scared of me.” He collects the litter of empty bottles from the coffee table, gathers up the useless waste of napkins and food wrappers around the room to dispose of them in the trash. 

“I’m sure he has many reasons to fear you. I had only given him a kiss to his hand when he burnt it when taking the pizza out of the oven. Guess that’s enough leverage for him to toy with.” You laugh, joining him along with cleaning up the table where you sit. 

“I know,” he chuckles. “The moment it happened he came running into the living room to tell me. He acts like there was more to that.” Yoongi side-eyes you skeptically, almost playfully, “better be all that there was.” 

For some time now, Haru rests her head against Hoseok’s shoulder and you were sure she was probably too tired to do much else, especially at the way she nearly tilts forward when Hoseok moves his body. Haru braces herself quickly, eyes shot wide, and glances you with a sheepish smile. 

“Go to bed.” you urge, “both of you. Aren’t you going to the festival in the morning with us? Get some rest.” 

Both Haru and Hoseok sluggishly get up from their spots, placing a few empty glasses to the counter before departing the room to their quarters. It is a bit late after all, and once the alcohol sinks in a bit everyone starts feeling a bit tired. You’re sure by morning everyone will be rejuvenated, energized to go straight back to partying. 

Without notice, Yoongi stood behind you, resting his hands on both of your shoulders. “Hey…” He whispers.

You make a noise of acknowledgement, raising one of your hands to lay on top of his to rub soft circles around his knuckles.

“You okay, babe? You seem… stressed.” His hands emphasized the word by lightly squeezing the tendons of your shoulders. He feels your body react instantly, the tightness of your back slowly being worked over with his firm thumbs. Rolling over a tight knot, the flick of his thumb forces you to jolt from the straining muscle.

You laugh at your reaction, “Yeah. I guess I am. I’ve been so busy with practicing for the tourney, I guess I haven’t noticed my body has been so –“

“Stiff?” He is quick to finish your sentence, dipping his head down to peck an innocent kiss to your head. You nod with a sigh.

“You’ve been so occupied,” his lips came back down, “you probably forgot that you’re on a vacation.” He smirks into your hair, running his fingers up your neck to your jaw. Yoongi tilts your head back, enough to kiss you upside down.

It's lazy at first, soft pouty lips peppering another in sync. Until Yoongi deepens the kiss, daring himself to push his tongue into your mouth. The wet muscle met with you in a savory passion.

He tastes just as you expect, a hidden spike of whiskey and the odd flavor of mint lingering on his breath.

“Come.” Yoongi breaks away. Walking in front of where you sit he takes your hand in his, leading the two of you back to your bedroom.

“Yoongi…” you drawl out the syllables of his name with a sigh of defeat. “Yoongi, I’m sore.”

Before making it completely down the hallway, he pulls you into him with an arm snaked around your waist and a hand lifting your chin. With a soft smile across his face he gazes down at you with mirth, “I know babe, I’m here to make it better.”

You smile, raising your eyebrows in question, “Oh, yeah?”

Yoongi almost matches your mannerism, but instead gives you a sly look with a poke to your nose. “Yes. Now come.” With a flip you’re facing forward. His arms securely around your middle, Yoongi proceeds to waddle the two of you the rest of the way down the hall and into your room with a fit of shared giggles.

He kicks the door close behind him, ushering you to the edge of your shared bed. Before he let you turn, nuzzling his head between the crook of your neck to leave fleeting kisses across your supple skin.

“Can I take this off?” he whispers, picking at the hem of your shirt.

You hum a tone of acknowledgement, smirking as Yoongi raises the loose material off your body. From here he can see your tan lines complemented by your sports bra, a slight shade darker than your beautiful natural skin tone.

He lightly tugs at one of the crossed straps, allowing it snap against your back. “This too.”

You look over your shoulder with a playful smile, “Of course.”

Cuffing the bottom of your bra you raise it up, allowing freedom to your soft set of mounds before Yoongi is fast in scoping both up with his hands before you could toss away the piece of clothing.

After disposing your athletic top his lips peppered along your shoulder blade.

“Now what?” You question while topping your hands over his.

“Lay down for me,” he directs with a loving slap to your right ass cheek, “face in the pillows.”

Cautiously, you kneel your way up the length of the bed, watching Yoongi who had walked over to a bag besides the dresser. He shuffles through its contents before pulling out a clear bottle with a rosé color top. Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion while pressing your cheek to the fluff of a pillow.

Reading into your quizzical look your boyfriend responds with a wink, “Amber and argan oil.” He teasingly shook the container while stepping closer to the bed.

“You brought massage oil?” You ask, stunned.

“Thought we’d try it out.” Yoongi shrugs, lifting the remainders of your hair off your back, clearing up his workspace.

You groan with satisfaction as Yoongi perches himself over your body, resting his ass on the back of your thighs. “Mmm, I fucking love you,” you giggle into the sheets.

The sound of the cap popping off the bottle arouses your ears and soon enough you feel the lukewarm drizzle down the base of your spine. Its lightweight aroma is subtle, but has a soothing sweet smell. 

Instantly your body melted into Yoongi’s fingertips, they diligently work the slippery liquid across your skin.

“I love you, too.” The smile is heard through his voice. He enjoys the way your back arches towards his hands, the way it chases his touch. He isn’t featherlight, his deft fingers are trained well against the taught muscles of your back, aiming to help un-knot you a bit.

His thumbs are quick to find the tightness along your shoulder blades, taking note to pay special attention to the areas with rigid and stressed muscles.

You deeply sigh into the pillow; eyes close comfortably in relaxation by Yoongi’s skillful digits.

A soft chuckle resounds from his chest, “you’re already moaning for me, babe?”

You nod your head, unashamed.

He watches the scattered goosebumps decorating your back appear and deplete in small fractions. Takes in your sun-kissed skin, the smooth gleam of oil slicking the surface. He smirks at your soft noises and the pleas that ask him to go softer or harder.

Boldly, Yoongi makes an effort to venture lower, dipping his hands into the waistband of your shorts. He rests the elastic below the swell of your ass, grabbing a firm handful of cheek in both palms.

You grumble in submission, not particularly upset with his choice of massage pattern.

Involuntarily, your body acts on its own accord. Arching yourself to further lift your bottom into his kneading hands.

“Careful, Y/n.” Yoongi spiritedly warns. “You’re going to make me hard if you keep that up.”

His thumbs hooked into the muscle of your exposed butt, applying a strong prod into the tenderness. You squirm under him, teeth trapping your bottom lip as a small mewl escapes your nose.

“Easy, easy!” He lets up, moving his hands to your hips. Running circles into your skin with the pads of his fingers, he continues to coax you. “I’m just trying to loosen you up.”

“I know. It feels good. It feels really good, Yoongi.” Huffing with a laugh, “I can’t believe how sore I am.”

Yoongi leans up, clutching his hands around your shoulders and casually dipping himself closer to you. “I can,” he whispers. Yoongi plants a small kiss between your shoulder blades, his hips leaning closer to the round of your ass. There you feel it – a slow drag along the crack of your cheeks of his hardening dick stuffed insides his shorts. He hums when you purposely push up to feel him more.

“I see that someone else also needs to loosen up a bit.”

Yoongi leaves room for you to spin in your spot. Once face-to-face he dips his head closer to yours, nudging your nose against his. “Maybe. Will you help me?”

Your hands raise the material of his shirt up his thin torso, watching Yoongi expertly yank it off in one swift movement.

“Of course, I’ll help you.”

Your smile met his lips with a soft peck that soon turns into a more heated make-out. Your tongue grinds against his just how his hips did into your pelvis.

Those nimble hands of yours traveled the expanse of his sides, legs raised for him to slot between. The kiss races into fervor, your fingers brush against his undercut, tugging at his thick locks and his fingers are desperate to tease your nipples. 

You missed this, you missed him.

“Hold on, let me grab a condom.” Yoongi detaches his lips from yours reluctantly, retrieving a foil pack from a nearby drawer.

Your tongue quickly swipes between your parted lips, watching with a craned neck at your boyfriend who exhausted no time clearing his shorts and slinking the rubber snug along his swollen length. With a few languid tugs at his cock he wiggles his eyebrows towards you. 

Whining almost pathetically, you rub your thighs together as you take his image in. Your boyfriend is handsome after all, you yearned to meet him many months ago because of your massive attraction to the way he looked. Learning to love him, and how dedicated and invested he is with parts of his life which make him happy – you being one of those things. 

You grow more attracted to his whole being, ethos and all. His intuition, spirit, and character as a whole is what draws you into him every time. He makes you feel normal and special at the same time. Yoongi has a way about him that always makes you think about how deep his mind actually can be, always surprising you when he opens up. 

Yoongi saunters back over to you, hands at your knees and running up the plane of your thighs to pull your bottoms off with your assistance.

“Wanna see how wet you are,” he rasps with the spread of your knees. Yoongi positions himself between your limbs, groaning when your slick glistens in the light. Inserting two fingers with little resistance, he listens to the high pitch breath that catches in your throat. With a thumb at your clit and two fingers knuckle deep – he sets a speedy pace.

You clench and unclench in unison to his pads stroking against the rough spongy area embedded in your walls. Yoongi stares at the rise and fall of your chest, the way your mouth parts with each soft moan. You’re beautiful and he knows it, but he wants you to know it – and feel it.  

The warm sensational build up lingers in the pit of your stomach, an all too familiar sign to tell you’re coming close to your peak. Yoongi smirks, noticing this behavior, if not by the way your legs wiggle more and the way your head tosses to the side, but also by the way your cunt tightens around his two slim digits.

“Yoongi –“

His name rolls off your tongue as lustful as ever, your hand latching around the wrist connected to the fingers that assault your in a blissful manner. With his unoccupied hand now holding your hips in place, he inclines his head closer to your core. He replaces his thumb with his mouth, matching the rhythm of his deft fingers.

You shutter underneath him, both hands carding his hair for purchase while waves of pleasure vibrated through your cunt and the expanse of your body. The cream gathering around his fingers made its way into his mouth, savoring your natural essence.

“Feel good?”

Breathlessly nodding your head, you drone at the loss of his fingers. You beam a hazy smile, the post orgasm paradise you swim in radiates off you. “Let me help you,” your arms stretch out to him.

Gladly, Yoongi careens closer, angling himself expertly so that the tip of his condom-covered cock dipped within your folds. Without dithering he pushes forward, sinking his cock in your wall-hugging slippery warmth. Inch by inch he disappears inside you, hitting the base of his pelvis against your clit. With arms snaked around your naked body he rests his head against your shoulder, turned enough to nip along your jawline.

His dick fills you up completely, deliciously. If it wasn’t for the slow shallow deep thrusts he gave your cunt, you’d be completely happy just holding him inside you for hours. In this position it was easy to grind himself into your clit, also easier to lock eyes with your flushed-out expressions.

The two of you exchange pleasurable moans that boosts another’s confidence. Audible noises that turned each other on even more, stroking your lustful pride that the both of you are fully enjoying the dirty act.

“Faster, please.” You match your hips up with his. Squelching noises fill the room with the snap of Yoongi’s thrusts. The wetter you get, the more tempting it is for Yoongi to ram straight into his your pretty cunt.

The jutting of his body scoots yours up with each stride, your legs locked around his waist and arms hooked around his back to anchor yourself. 

Sweat coats around his hairline, threatening to form droplets that eventually would escape his body. The summer night’s dry air hugs the two of you, rising temperatures amplifying your bodies. The smell of sex loiters in the room, no doubt. And you silently thank that famous engineer for inventing the air conditioner, the one that sat in the window to your right - you’re positive the both of you will rush straight to it after this intimacy ended. 

Between grunts, Yoongi whispers profanities. Swearing under his breath and murmuring dirty words into the shell of your ear. “Did you like my fingers in you?” “Like this cock deep inside you?” “You feel fuckin’ fantastic.” “I want to bury myself inside this pussy every night.” “I love you.”

Each sentence fills your mind, swirling your emotions and hormones. It is hot. You sang back your appeals, smiled wide as he sends your body into pleasure.

“Flip.” You request, hauling Yoongi enough to make him roll with you.

You settle atop him, dick still very much intact inside your body. Yoongi gazes at you with hooded eyes, his hair fanning around his head. The beat of his heart matched the same pace as your own, both panting for oxygen and running with the enjoyment your bodies are experiencing.

Bouncing on him with what little strength you still have, you fuck yourself on his swollen cock while Yoongi’s hands are gripping your waist like a vice. The bed squeaks under your weight, his head bobs along with your ministrations, Yoongi’s jagged breath warns you that you’re doing exactly what his body wants.

“Babe, I’m…“

“Me too.” You gasp once his thumb locks onto your clit again, drawing figure-eights quickly. Your walls squeeze around his tender length, body jerking with each ambitious dive of his cock into your cervix.

Yoongi’s head tosses back, brows furrowed in concentration while his bottom lip traps itself between his set of teeth. The erratic moment of your body convulsing on top of him made him lose it – draining himself in the condom with lewd moans and nails digging into the flesh of your hips.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he chants with declaration. Mere seconds after his orgasm, you find your second one. A cry breaking free from your mouth, you rock yourself on his shaft throughout your fervent ride, arousal seeping all around his pubic hairs.

Leaning down, you kiss another between labored breaths, “Thank you so much.”

He snorts a laugh, holding you against his chest as his softening dick slips out from your spent hole. “You feel a bit better?”

“A lot better.”

As much as you love to cuddle against your boyfriend, the two of you became much more socially aware of how agonizingly sticky your bodies have become. Unenthusiastically, you peel yourself off the top of Yoongi, rolling yourself to your back. You stare senselessly at the air conditioner that mocks you, frowning about how far of reach it is from the bedside. 

“You think if we turn it on full blast, by the time we’re done with a shower it will be super cold in here?” Yoongi asks, sitting himself to the edge of the bed to carefully yank off the condom without spilling his seed. He looks over his shoulder to you, back and buttcrack exposed to your view and you couldn’t help but smirk fondly at him. 

“God, I hope so. I feel so disgusting right now.” 

Giving yourself enough recuperation time, the two of you finally lift yourselves off the bed, turn on the air conditioner and work your way to the bathroom. The brisk shower remains lukewarm, the sticky sweat washes away with soap sudz and water. Your boyfriend and you came back to a frigid bedroom, a perfect temperature to slink bodies together and canoodle another under the comfort of a blanket for the rest of the night. 

Rejuvenation at its finest, indeed.

Now that it’s Friday - a day before your tournament - you join the group along with the festivities taking hold at the beach front. You share a way-too-sweet customized coffee, some delicious chocolate dipped churros and apple fritters with Yoongi. Battle Haru and Hoseok with the water-shooting contest and also were able to pick out a few hand-made beaded bracelets to gift to your entire party. 

Jungkook and Yoongi went head to head at being the winner with the highest score on the dunk tank, earning one of the larger stuffed purple koalas. To your amusement, and Jungkook’s ego, he gifts you the prize after rubbing his victory in Yoongi’s face. 

“He does it on purpose, Yoongi.” your arm linking around his, watching Hoseok share a singular strawberry malt with Haru between two straws. A corny-coupley thing that you find cute. 

Yoongi tips his hat forward, rubbing his nose quickly to act as if he wasn’t bothered. “I let him win that.” 

“Right,” you peck his shoulder with a kiss. “You reacting the way you do only compels him to continue.” 

“Yeah, one day he’s going to get it,” he pouts, turning over to look at you with a concerned look. “Can’t have him thinking he has any chance.” 

You bite back a smile, squeezing his arm tighter to your body. “Never. Kook isn’t my type.”

“And what is?”

“You,” you coo, grabbing hold of Yoongi for a kiss now to his lips. “Your voice, eyes, that gummy smile of yours.”

“Irrelevant.” Yoongi smirks, nudging you forward toward a booth with swinging basketball hoops. 

“That deep sexy voice of yours, especially in the mornings when I wake up next to you.” You continued to list more things off despite Yoongi’s pleas for you to stop. “I even have a thing for…” you look down his front with a playful smile, wiggling your eyebrows at him. 

“Enough, enough!” he laughs, shaking his head at your ridiculousness. 

Even though from the outside it never seems like Yoongi enjoys attention, compliments, or too many loads of love - you know he appreciates everything positive you say about him. 

“But, what I like most,” Yoongi pays a staff member a few dollars for his shot at the game. You watch his first throw, sinking the ball straight into the moving basket that is purposely bent to rig the game. “The way you are very genuine about everything. You wear your heart on your sleeve. How you can’t hide your fond expressions when someone you care for does something endearing. When you shy away from affection but secretly crave it.”

Yoongi turns his head to look you in the eyes, even with puzzlement dressing his soft face you can see the wonder lurking in his sharp eyes. He shuffles his basketball between his hands anxiously, anticipating your next words. 

“You have one of the most kindest of hearts I have ever had the privilege of getting to know. And I love you.” 

With another flick of his wrist his ball goes to the air, bouncing against the backboard of the moving basket and lulls itself into the hoop. You see the bob of his Adam's apple, a slight furrow of his brow, but what you can’t realize is how your words truly affect him. You live with the comfort knowing that Yoongi has a hard way of expressing his emotions, the thoughts in his mind that race in and out can not form coherent sentences to explain what he is feeling. 

Managing to score four out of the five throws, Yoongi alternatively wins a prize from the top shelf. His hand skims the small of your back, drawing you closer to his side as he requests you to pick one to your liking. You point at a stuffed flamingo, excitement runs through you when the item turns out much more softer to the touch than what it looks like - much like your boyfriend who now stares down at you with precaution. 

“I love you, too.” he mutters, a small coy smile spreading across his lips. 

You had practiced one last time with Maggie before the tournament day, during which Yoongi and Hoseok managed to snag in more volleyball learning without your notice. Even this time they had Haru and Jungkook to help with learning, and surprisingly Yoongi had caught on to the game fairly fast. Even shocking Hoseok with the way Yoongi became a very strong setter with lack of experience. Something about Yoongi with his hands made everything come a bit natural. 

You try - try - your best to go to bed at a decent hour that night, considering that you had to wake up and check-in to your tournament by eight in the morning, set up your canopy and figure out which court you’d be playing on. It was hard to fall asleep at a reasonable hour no thanks to Hoseok’s obnoxiously loud laughter and sputtering words that broke through even the heaviest set of walls. Not even the hush of the air conditioner blowing cold air on high could overcome the harsh vocals of tipsy Hoseok. 

Thankfully, your boyfriend who checks on you a few times within the early night solves the problem of the loud outbursts emitting from the living area of the house. Mainly after the death glare you had shot him with only out of annoyance and a curse under your breath saying “i’m going to fuckin’ murder Hobi if he doesn’t shut the hell up.” 

It was quiet after that and the moment your body found solitude to drift itself into slumber it was comforted by the warmth of Yoongi’s arm slinking around your waist, drawing your body against his as his warm breath fans out of his nose into the back of your neck. 

Your eyes remain shut until the blurting noise from your cell phone awoken you in the morning. 

Now you find yourself in your first match, first set against an opposing team. The air runs from the ocean, a cool breeze before the hot summer sun decides to warm up the sand below your feet. Pool play usually is hit or miss, sometimes a random good team would dominate the other teams in the pool, and luckily you were that very team. 

As the day runs, both you and Maggie go against the other four teams - coming out on top in each match, besides one where the teams split wins. You’re feeling great, Maggie and you become a massive threat towards nearby courts, people knowing who may be the future competition once pool play is over and the winning teams advanced to the next level. 

During the middle of your games, your party finally joined Maggie’s boyfriend under the tent, in favor to help support you to the fullest. It makes you happy to see your favorite humans watch you do well, a boost of confidence always spiking when you can hear the loudest cheers from the sideline knowing damn well it was your good friends rooting you on. 

Tip-toeing along the hot sand side-by-side with Maggie, you run over to give Yoongi a quick hug as you collapse yourself on his seat. “Slept in later than expected?” You tease, noting the time on your watch. 

Yoongi ticks his head towards the youngest who had found purchase in a lounge chair, beach blanket covering his body, “He got a bit more wasted than he expected. Took Hobi and I three different styles of waking his ass up.” 

“And what was the solution?” You laugh with the twist of your water bottle cap, graciously taking a well deserved swig of fresh water. 

“Titty-twisters.” 

You hear a subtle groan from under the blanket of which Jungkook lays, earning a chuckle from the crowd around him. 

“I see,” you snuggle yourself closer into Yoongi’s embrace. “Guess Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to dance with me tonight after the tourney...” 

“Wait - no! I’m fine!” He jumps up, blanket falling off abruptly to unveil the round, red, puffy, sleepless eyes of Jungkook. They wince due to the sunlight bouncing off the surroundings, hair array every way possible. “We’re dancing!” 

“Get more rest and some tylenol in you before even thinking about going to the bar tonight.” You scold, tossing him a random snack from the side pocket of your duffle bag. “And start eating some non-greasy things.” 

Both Maggie and you had finished your lengthy beach tournament; ending up losing in the finals against one of the recurring top teams known to play at this competition. It was close of course, only losing by a few point differentials but it didn’t matter to either one of you at that point in the day because second place has been the farthest the two of you ever had come in the years of playing in this tournament. After surpassing through the semifinals, the two of you were content with whichever outcome you had coming. 

And hey, you guys still won some cash prizes for being in second seat!

After packing up your canopy, riding back to your temporary vacation home to wash up and take a small nap before heading out for the night, you had promised the entire group that you’d take care of tonight's bill and urged the drinkers to go buckwild. 

Poseidon’s pub and nightclub is one of the top hotspots in this area, great live bands every weekend with two different decks and three separate bars, this establishment was your top priority to show off to your friends. By the time your party shows up to the club it’s blasting out loud pop music and flashing lights all around. 

Jungkook, who had slept off his previous night’s hangover, has been completely recuperated and is ready for another night of binge drinking. Hoseok and Haru were first at the nearest bar, darting over to grab a handful of shots to start up the night with courtesy of handing over your card to the bartender for the tab. Yoongi holds you close throughout the waves of bodies dancing and lingering around the floor, your eyes set to your phone as you text Maggie that you had arrived and hope to see her - eventually. 

It wasn’t long until everyone found their inspiration to party, exhaustion aside and now jitters coursing through your body like fireworks, perhaps it was thanks to the alcohol sinking into your system. Bioluminescence lights glisten off the top of your boyfriend's hair in which you run your fingers through, reflecting off just how it did to everyones; his dark sharp-cut eyes even darker with the lighting around him. He smells of fresh aftershave, a minty aroma tingling your nose as you drive your face into the crook of his neck. 

You two enjoy a slow grind to the current song, swinging your hips in sync with another’s, hands never daring to leave each other’s body. Yoongi milked his beers after the first round of shots, tried claiming that liquor before beer you’re in the clear, until Jungkook slides the two of you each a larger drink; a bright red concoction of something massively fruity with a single cherry topping above the ice. 

“It’s called the Red Devil! Haru had one, I had one, now it’s your turn! It’s so good!” Jungkook yells above the music between the two of you, slinking his body against Yoongi and you due to the small areas between other bodies. Jungkook practically shoves a glass into your lips, the other in front of Yoongi’s chest, forcing the two of you to separate enough to clutch each glass. 

“It smells like shit.” Yoongi grimaces, mouth turning downwards into a harsh frown. 

You on the other hand, have no choice but to taste the alcoholic drink because of the clink of the glass against your teeth. It was sweet at first, an indistinctive flavor touching your tongue, causing you to inspect the red liquid as you ponder. Until you see the wide smile from Jungkook, teeth beaming towards you with a mischievous grin. That’s when you notice the tang of flavor spikes, an after taste of cinnamon practically burning its way down your esophagus. 

Coughing, you push the glass back to Jungkook, eyes slightly watering from the sudden flavor. “Oh god, you know I can’t handle spicy shit. That thing is vile!” 

“It’s called Red Devil for a reason!” He laughs, taking the drink back and gulping down a portion of it. At this point Jungkook is going to revisit another nasty hangover in the morning, but you can’t blame him for enjoying his vacation to the fullest. 

Yoongi pushes the glass back to Jungkook, “Give it to Hobi, I'm not drinking this.” 

Infuriating enough, the youngest pushes the glass back, “you give it to him. It’s about time I get my dance with Y/n anyways. You’ve been hogging her all night.” 

“She’s my girlfriend!”

It’s possible that the larger crowd and uncountable ounces of alcohol that Jungkook has taken, causes him to be much more bolder, brasher than usual. He ignores the glare Yoongi sends his way, especially when Jungkook steps between the two of you; back now facing Yoongi. 

You raise your eyebrows at Yoongi, shrugging into your sentence, “Just one song. I’ll come right back to you. I did promise him I'd dance with him.” 

Yoongi doesn’t stay mad too long, but now both of his hands occupy glasses of an unfavorable drink as he walks away to search for Hoseok. He knows Jungkook is just going to pester them the rest of the night if he refuses to allow it and a dance isn’t harmful at all. Even when he perches himself against the wall besides Hoseok and Haru, eyes watching you stare back at him with a smile. 

“You going to pick up any of these people around us?” You question Jungkook who gyrates around you to the new upbeat flow of music. It’s more cluby now, the song switches between motions of fast pace and a slow break down during the chorus, Jungkook perfectly matching the synergy of the music. You glance over at Yoongi a handful of times, shaking your head at Jungkook’s perky dance moves and laughing with the amusement that dresses his face. 

“Actually, I have one coming back with us already - if that’s cool.” Jungkook swings your body around, his front now facing your back. He places his chin on your shoulder as he scans the bodies dancing around. “Long black hair, mini skirt, nine o’clock.” 

“Oh, i’m impressed, you’re a fast worker.” You laugh, spinning back around in place. You push Jungkook softly against his chest, “I expect you to go dance with them instead of me.” 

Jungkook pouts, hair falling short in front of his eyes from bopping his head, “but I have a vendetta with Yoongi, gotta get in my daily annoyance. Plus you’re fun to dance with.” 

“You really do enjoy messing with him.”

Jungkook nods excitedly, eyes scanning the perimeter until he spots the dark haired elder leaning against the wall staring straight back at him. He takes both of your hands in his, raises them up to make kissy noises against each of your knuckles as he laughs along with you. The second Yoongi pushes himself off the wall, Jungkook snaps his head back towards you, bids you farwell and rushes himself through the crowd towards his new acquaintance.

You match Yoongi’s trudges, meeting up with him halfway before he could go any further towards Jungkook. By the look on his face you can tell he was ready to show his dongsaeng who’s boss. 

“Ya know, you’re kind of cute when you get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” Yoongi rebukes. 

“Are you mad?”

Looking over Yoongi’s features, his posture remained relaxed but his eyes looked like they were burning holes into the back of Jungkook’s head. “Nah. I just think Jungkook wants to play. It’s funny, honestly. Just don’t tell him that. I’ll just let him believe that i’m mad.” 

His hands lock themselves around your waist, drawing you in closer to his frame. “If anything,” Yoongi latches his lips to yours, “he’s the one who’s jealous. He can’t have you.” 

Soft moans escape through Yoongi’s parted mouth, lips slightly trembling with pleasure building up within his body. You hollow your mouth as much as possible, dipping your head as far down as you could take him before your gag reflex threatens to betray you. Saliva accumulated around the base of his cock, your free hand wraps around the skin you couldn’t fit inside of your mouth just to help add sensations to his entire length. 

It was early, you can see the subtle light leaking through the crack of the curtains of your room; light chirping of seagulls out in the distance along with the winds banging against the chimes outside on the deck. Yoongi’s hand assists with holding your hair up as your head towers his cock, bobbing it up and down beneath the covers. 

The two of you did sleep quite well once you got home, even managing to ignore the random bumps and noises coming out of Jungkook’s neighboring room - he did end up taking that random person back home. 

Though you couldn’t get as drunk as you’d like between the tiredness your body has already undergone, holding Haru’s hair back from puking her stomach out in the club’s bathroom and dealing with a much more drunken Yoongi. Once you rallied up your troops you closed your tab, called a cab and headed home for the night. 

“S-suck harder.” Yoongi begs you in a whisper, cock twitching inside your mouth. 

You slurp, hard, on your next drag up his length. Yoongi inhales sharply, fist tightening within your hair and hips bucking up to chase your mouth. He was coming close to unfolding himself into you, visions of dressing your mouth with his white hot cum rushing through his mind. 

By introducing your free hand to his balls you earn a low guttural groan from Yoongi. Massaging them gently within your palm as you tease your tongue right under the head of his dick. He chokes on his words, hand abruptly forcing your head down to take his cock deeper as he empties himself deep in your throat. 

After swallowing what you can, you wipe your lips off with the back of your hand; other hand lazily tugging Yoongi’s softening cock. You smile up at him. 

“Thank you.” He mumbles, voice croaky. 

He was half asleep when you began to suck your boyfriend off but now you were sure he had become wide awake. 

“I’m sorry I woke you.” 

“I can’t complain.” He smiles lazily, eyes closing as he embraces his post orgasm state. 

Climbing up the side of his body, you card yourself into his arm as you snuggle closer with the blanket. Yoongi looks so at ease with the moment even with the disheveled bed head he’s rocking and puffy cheeks. 

His hand slowly rubs against your back in a soothing pattern, fingers featherlight with each tender stroke. 

“Do you want me to make you some coffee?” You offer, knowing well that Yoongi needed some substance other than alcohol to enter his system. 

Yoongi shakes his head, deciding to curl himself up against you instead, “No, not right now. I just want to stay like this.” 

You weren’t sure how long the two of you remained in each other's embrace, Yoongi quickly fell back asleep against you. The soft pitter-patters of feet outside your room notified you that somebody - probably Hoseok - was up and shuffling his way to the kitchen. Silently, you slip yourself out of Yoongi’s arms and throw on a pair of shorts so you weren’t walking around in just a shirt and underwear. 

“Morning,” you chirp as you enter the kitchen, seeing Hoseok staring at the coffee machine as it drains itself into his awaiting mug. He grumbles his acknowledgment, clearly a bit cranky.

“Jungkook keep you up?” 

“No.” Hoseok sighs, rubbing his hands over his sleep-crusted eyes, “Haru wouldn’t stop crying. She kept saying how sorry she was for throwing up and was worried that she would spend the entire day in bed with a hangover.” 

You voice an ‘oh’ as you place your own mug to the coffee machine after Hoseok takes his in hand, wrapping around the island counter to sit on one of the stools. 

“What time did you manage to sleep?”

“Six.” 

The automatic clock hung on the kitchen wall and flashed a few minutes after eight. You clench your teeth together and you see Hoseok nod in affirmation. “Yeah.” 

You pat Hoseok on the back after grabbing your fresh coffee before shagging his hair up, “Try to get a nap sometime today. I think Jungkook wanted to go to the beach again after hitting up a few shops, you’re more than welcome to come along.” 

“I had already told Yoongi I'd help him with something but we’ll meet you guys at the beach!” 

Before leaving to go back to your room and hand over the cup of coffee to Yoongi, you give Hoseok a confused look. He avoids your eyes, averting his own to the magazines scattered around the counter. 

“You literally have twenty minutes before Y/n comes back here with Jungkook. He’s been trying to stall her as much as possible.” Hoseok warns Yoongi as he stomps his way through the sand and back to the court, hands rubbing the extra sun-screen across his skin. 

“I shouldn’t have drank so much last night.” Yoongi frowns at the volleyball in his hands; he stands at one endline and waits for Hoseok to walk on the court on the other side.

Haru, who also is suffering from too much intoxication, holds her own as a setter between the two courts, ducking herself beneath the net everytime the ball gets sent over. As long as Yoongi and Hoseok maintained control of the ball they could pass it to her zone so she didn’t have to do as much work. 

They play a game, not massively competitive, but enough to get warmed up before you come back for Yoongi’s surprise. He has worked incredibly hard in secrecy. Also, Hoseok proved himself as a decent volleyball coach in the making. 

“Burn it off. I saw you chug a good amount of water already. Work through it and you’ll sober up.”

“I just don’t want to be a complete ass when I play with her.” The sun beams down hard from above; Yoongi’s hat, arms, and feet burn from the contact of the extra exposure. He made sure to apply his own sunscreen at least three separate times ever since he’s been outside, and as much as he loathes the heat and unbearable humidity, he still chooses to play the sport you love most. 

Yoongi serves the ball enough to lollipop the ball over the net in Hoseok’s vicinity. They practice, all three of them, enough to rally the volleyball around. Yoongi still has his moments where he refuses to bend his knees for a pass, insisting that the ball was ‘too high’ for his liking. But what surprises Hoseok the most is Yoongi’s ability to jump fairly high in the sand, it must be the basketball skills that help him perform much better. 

In the middle of a play the group hears a yell from afar. As they turn, they see Jungkook waving his hands in the air with a cheerful smile in the distance, bags in each hand swing aimlessly with his movements. “We’re here!” he screams across the beach, ignoring all the curious bystander’s stares. 

You trail behind Jungkook, tugging the cooler on wheels behind you. Even as you walk towards the courts, your head tilts left and right like a puppy trying to understand what you think you had just seen. Did you see what you think your eyes saw? Is your boyfriend standing in the open sun, on a volleyball court, with a volleyball in his hands right now?

“What are you doing?” You question Yoongi as you step closer, plopping down the cooler under the pitched tent. You’re befuddled, looking between Haru, Hoseok and Yoongi as you try to process any ideas on what is actually going on. 

“I wanted to surprise you.” Yoongi, who now seems incredibly embarrassed with his hand rubbing the back of his neck, spoke softly towards you. 

You smirk with joy, touched that Yoongi has gone out of his way, out of his comfort, to surprise you with a sweet gesture. “Where did you? How? When did you learn?” 

“Hobi’s been helping me a little, i’m not great, but i’m alright.” 

Running over to hug your boyfriend, you giggle into his chest. “This is the cutest thing, I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Say ‘Heads or Tails’.” 

“What?” You turn to look at Jungkook who holds a coin in his hand, prepping it to flip in the air.

“You and Yoongi verses Hobi and I.” He smiles wide, tossing the coin up high into the air. “Call it!”

In unison both Yoongi and you declare tails, and as the coin is caught and flipped in Jungkook’s hand, it reveals that very end. 

“We’ll take recieve.” You chime in, excited with the way Yoongi challenges Jungkook with playful banter. 

Enthusiastically, the groups plant themselves on opposite sides. Whispering small strategies and goals. You tell Yoongi to aim for Hoseok, keep it away from Jungkook, mainly because Jungkook was the stronger hitter of the two. Haru sat in the shade, choosing to be the referee and scorekeeper. 

The game started off light, a few points given to another over silly mistakes and miscommunications. Yoongi shys away from the ball most of the time, thinking you should take most balls because of your experience and that you were generally better at the game. If it wasn’t for you yanking his arm to make him snap out of whatever trance he was in, he’d probably end up letting a ball drop two feet in front of him. 

He was nervous after all, he wants to play well. 

It wasn’t until Hoseok started scuffing up some small trash-talk through the net, more like a taunt towards Yoongi, a tactic to see if Yoongi would step up his game. 

And it was working. 

Especially after Hoseok discusses openly how Yoongi only does well when he’s being bossed around. A small inside joke only the two of the men understood. But what had tilted Yoongi the most was once Jungkook pitched in, adding his own form of toxicity in the mix. Which they all knew would be one thing… using you as leverage to piss Yoongi off.

“Y/n and I had so much fun earlier today. We shared some snacks together, went in a few clothing stores where Y/n tried on a few nice pieces…” 

You roll your eyes, sighing as you look over to Yoongi who stares straight into Jungkook. “Here we go again,” you mutter to yourself.

The next play felt more intense, you even noticed Yoongi stepping closer towards you to pick up the ball more than normal. He wants the ball, he wants to do something with it. 

Yoongi continuously aimed his hits towards Hoseok, nothing too hard, but it was noticeable how he was favoring his spikes towards his roommate. That alone motivated Jungkook to tease Yoongi some more, “Can’t hit at me now? Are you scared or something?” 

The fun laughs and giggles turned into grunts and pants, both you and Yoongi work hard on your side of the court, and you love every second of the heated game that blazed along the summer heat. Jungkook manages to swing very hard, directing his spike right in front of you, but you had just enough time to stick your arm out and pass the ball up before it lands. 

Yoongi rushes over, a dive with his foot, kicking the ball up high enough for you to pass the ball deep into Jungkook’s corner. The youngest scurries himself quickly across the sand, almost colliding with Hoseok in the process. He saves the ball from landing, freeballing it back over to Yoongi’s area. 

“Go outside!” You yell towards Yoongi after he passes the ball high enough for you to square yourself up by the net. 

The pass, the set, the entire momentum of the play came out pristine and this was the golden opportunity for Yoongi to show off his skills. Jungkook sees the chance Yoongi is about to make and runs himself up to the net and readying himself to block Yoongi’s oncoming hit as Hoseok adjusts his positioning in the back court. 

Both men jump, Yoongi winding his arm back to fling it forward, snapping his wrist on top of the ball the moment his hand came in contact with it. He angles his swing, cutting the direction of the ball to the open area just inside the ten-foot line that remained uncovered. 

In the process of the hit, Jungkook leaps himself up, arms raised high in an attempt to block the spike. He does manage to block the direct path of the volleyball… but with his face instead. 

The volleyball smacks hard into Jungkook’s face, cutting straight down into his side of the net as Jungkook stumbles back to save the ball from completely falling, but fails as he lands on the ground. His nose quickly turns red from impact, scrunching his face as his hands cover the sore appendage. 

Both you and Hoseok sputter out words, asking Jungkook if he’s alright as he locks eyes with Yoongi. Yoongi stands stunned at the incident, eyes wide and mouth gaping as Jungkook smiles back at him after making sure his nose wasn’t bleeding. 

“Guess I deserve that, huh?” 

Yoongi shrugs, holding his hand out for Jungkook to help lift himself up, “Yeah, probably.” The two of them laugh it off, shaking the sand from their bodies. 

Before ending the game and walking back to the shade of the tent, Yoongi pulls you in for a hug, kissing your temple. “Told you he was gonna get it.”

“Yoongi!” you scold with a laugh, shaking your head in disapproval yet he knows you find it enjoyable. 

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[hops-hunny]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: Slightly suggestive flirting, fluff

A/N: This chapter is so cute omg I hope you guys like it <3

“Oh come on (Y/n)! It could be fun!” Twyla called after the girl, who she was currently chasing around the halls of the manors. The tall men in suits watched them but didn’t interact, not sure of what to do in the situation. The (h/c) haired girl ignored her, making lala noises with her fingers in her ear. “Real mature, babes, real mature!” When they got back to the girl’s room, Twyla closed the door, locking it so her friend couldn’t escape. She got on her knees, pleading and begging the girl.

“Twyla I can’t just pick up and go on a trip to Italy!” she shouted, forcing the girl to stand up. The tall girl grabbed her shoulders, shaking her shorter friend in her arms.

“Why nottt?” she whined out. (Y/n) smacked her hands from her shoulders growling some at her.

“A multitude of reasons, Twy! The main one being oh I don’t know, who’s gonna look after my damn bakery!” she hissed out the last part, throwing herself on the large bed, the blonde joining her shortly after. “I’ve got no one to watch the bakery, I don’t have any clothes nice enough to take and even if I did I’d have to travel by floo back home to get them! Also, who’s gonna water my plants? I love my plants, Twyla!” she ranted causing the girl to shush her.

“Relax, you worry too much and there’s a simple fix to all these so-called ‘problems’ you have.” she sat up, pulling the girl up with her. “Let’s start with problem one. You said you have to run the bakery, right?” (Y/n) nodded, curious of where the girl was going with this. “Easy, ask Tiana to run it for a while. She’s been looking to get more hours in since she just bought a house.”

“I can’t ask that of her! Plus, she can’t do all of that with the staff we have now, she’d be understaffed!” she said, watching the girl type away on her phone. She was always so amazed by Twyla’s ability to use muggle technology.

“Well lucky for you, you won’t have to ask her. I just did!” her boss gawked at her, going to tell her off but she continued speaking. “And plus, it’s summer. Do you know how many culinary art students are looking to get hands-on learning in an actual bakery? You don’t handle the application process anyways, Tiana does that. Remember, you stopped doing that because you’d cry any time you had to reject an application.” she made many valid points, slowly pulling her over to the side that wanted to go, wanting to be on a trip with Neville. “Also you’re the only owner who spends so much time working. Isn’t the point of owning a business to make people do shit for you?”

“That’s true.” she sighed, picking at the skin around her cuticles. “But what about my apartment? And my clothes?” 

“Don’t you still talk to that old couple that sold the bakery building to you? Ask them to watch your plants!” she retorted, smirking triumphantly. Slowly but surely her reasons for not being able to go were dwindling. (Y/n) sighed before shrugging.

“You know what? Screw it, I’ll go.” Twyla squealed, grabbing the girl’s hand as she dragged her out the door.

“Hey tall man, where’s Neville?” she asked the guard who was posted outside. He cleared his throat, adjusting his sunglasses.

“In his office. Downstairs and to the left, miss. He’s currently in a me-” without another word she grabbed the girl, dragging her downstairs. They reached the large wooden doors that had two large men standing there causing the shorter girl to cower in fear. Their glares were intense as they stood up straighter.

“Can we help you?” one of them asked, his rough voice booming. The other one nodded along, leaning down to her height as he gave her a strong glare, vein on his forehead popping out. 

“The boss is in a meeting so unless you’re someone special, get lost.” (Y/n) felt her lip quivering, tears welling up in her eyes. 

“Oh you’re fucked buddy, that’s the boss’s girl. Come on, I’ll let you guys in.” an unfamiliar voice said from behind her. Turning around she saw two identical men, quite lanky and tall in stature. She couldn’t help but notice how they favored another certain Ginger she knew.

The one on the left pressed on the small earpiece in his ear, clearing his throat. “Hey boss, your lady friend is out here crying. You should get more observant guards.” he said giggling as a shout could be heard from beyond the large door. The men visibly paled but kept their composure. The door swung open revealing Neville, who adorned a white button up and black trousers, a pair of suspenders connecting the two together. 

“I-I’m sorry boss, I didn’t know.” one of them stuttered out, sweat building up on his bald head. Neville gripped his shirt tightly pinning him to the wall causing the man’s feet to lift from the ground. (Y/n)’s eyes widened at the sight. The man he was lifting had a large, muscular build making her wonder just how strong Neville really was.

“If you think that’s something, you should've seen him last night.” Twyla whispered out the corner of her mouth, the twins nodding along in agreement.

“You better listen because I’m gonna say this once.” Neville said, a calm tone which was somehow scary if he was to yell. The man nodded along frantically, wide eyes trained on the man. “That girl right there? She’s my flower. Let it be known that if she sheds a tear caused by any of you, you’re dead and what I’ll do will be worse than anything the Weasley twins could do combined.” and with that he dropped him, walking over to the girl. Weasley twins? So they were related to Ron! She felt her face flush as Neville leaned down, brushing away the tears that had threatened to fall from her eyes. “You alright, love?”

“Yeah I was just coming to tell you that I’ve made a decision. I’ll be joining you in Italy.” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He grinned at her lifting her up in a hug as he spun her around, laughing some. “B-but I don’t have any clothes so I still have to figure that out.” he sat her down, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Just buy new ones when we land.” he declared. She froze, scratching the back of her neck. That would be an easy solution if she hadn’t spent any extra savings she had on the night before.

“I don’t really have the money to do that..”she trailed off. Neville put something in her hands causing her to look down confused. In her hands was a black card, his name engraved in the front of it. “Is this...is this a black card?! I can’t take this. Plus what about you know, “ she cleared her throat, blood rushing to her cheeks and ears. “My undergarments. I don’t have any on me for before we go shopping.” Neville smirked at her words, feeling particularly confident from her flustered expression. She was so soft, so...pure. Anytime he neared her she’d get all warm in the face and anytime he kissed her that same look would double. Temptation was his flower and he was tempted. Hearing her inquire about something that had innocent intent behind it had him thinking about anything but.

“Nonsense, pretty girl. Take my card and for your undergarments..” he trailed off, leaning down next to her ear. He placed his hand around her neck, gently squeezing it as he chuckled. “Let me take care of that. Better yet, let me buy the ones for the trip as well.” he whispered, nibbling the shell of her ear. (Y/n) squeaked, looking at him with wide eyes. Was he doing this on purpose or was it a simple misunderstanding? Either way, she couldn’t stop the heat pooling between her legs. “I’m only messing with you cutie. However I wasn’t kidding, leave that to me.” with a final peck to her lips he stood up straight, adjusting his tie before heading back through the wooden doors, the twins following behind him.

“Nice meeting you (Y/n)!” they said in unison, offering her a smile before they closed the door after themselves.

“You know he totally wants to bang you, right?” Twyla said, causing the girl to glare at her. She held her hands up in defense, looking back at the girl as she began to walk off. “I’m just saying! It’s obvious. You should share a room with him when you go to Italy.”

“Do you..do you think he’d want that? I don’t wanna get in the way of-”

“Are you kidding me?! The man practically worships the very earth you walk on, why wouldn’t he?” Twyla exclaimed as the girl followed her blindly. (Y/n) gasped, looking up at where they were. Around them were large counters on the floor and ceiling. Marble countertops with a matching marble floor along with two large fridges and a state of the art oven. Ignoring Twyla’s rambling, she began to walk through the kitchen, inspecting and exploring every part of it. Her eyes landed on the pantry to which she opened, letting out another surprised noise. It was massive, food lining the walls, all organized to perfection. There was even a walk-in freezer and fridge down the hall!

“Twyla, I’ve gotta use this kitchen. If I don’t bake something in here I’m going to die.” she said, running out to the girl as she began to shake her back and forth. “Quick! Give me an excuse to so I don’t feel bad about messing things up!”

“Ooh! I love excuses! I mean, Neville’s having a meeting so you co-” before she could finish the girl put the kettle on before beginning to pull out various different bowls and ingredients.

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

“Well, do you have security plans?” Neville asked from the end of the table, quirking a brow at the italian man at the end of the table. He noticed even through the man’s fear that he probably didn’t understand what Neville had said fully. “Sorry, um, avete piani di sicurezza?” he asked, causing Blaise to quirk a brow at the man’s fluent italian. Neville rolled his eyes at him before turning his attention back to the man. He nodded, sliding back a file folder filled with papers. 

“How long are we going to be there for?” Seamus asked.

“Does it matter? Money is money. Plus it’s not like you have anything important going on in your life, Finnegan.” Draco retorted which resulted in the shorter man growling as he grew red in the face.

“Don’t you dare fucking start. If you’re going to act like fools I’ll replace you with two lower levels in a heartbeat.” Neville gritted, not even looking up from the plans. He looked at the other man next to the italian man. “And you, what’s the exhibit worth exactly? If there’s no high hitting items we can already consider this a dud.”

“U-um. It’s estimated that it’s worth over 1.5 million, sir.” he responded, gulping as he reached for the water they had given him with a shaky hand. However, Neville wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

“Listen, did I ask you what it’s estimated to be? I asked for the exact cost. If you only have estimates then how bout I est-” he was interrupted by light knocking on the door. “Who is it now?! J-just come in.” he said, huffing out. The door opened followed by a quiet set of footsteps causing the inner circle of men to smile, giggling some. Curiosity got him, causing him to turn around, his expression instantly softening. “Petal? What are you doing here, angel girl?” he asked, pulling her closer but being careful of the large tray in her hand.

“I thought you might want some snacks for your little meeting. I hope there’s enough for everyone.” she said, setting the tray down on the table. It was funny really, comical, the way the doily and flower covered tray contrasted with all the men in the room. On the tray was a large array of different foods. Scones, tea biscuits, even tea sandwiches. In the center was a beautiful antique floral teapot along with matching cups. 

“This looks amazing, princess!” he exclaimed, his stomach grumbling in agreement. She giggled at that, causing his ears to tint pink. “There’s most certainly enough. Go on fellas, don’t be-” before he could continue the men began to grab at the food, swooping in like vultures. 

“Oh my god, this is like heaven!” Seamus moaned out, bits of sandwich falling from his mouth. Ron nodded along in agreement, a bunch of unintelligible words leaving his mouth. Even Blaise was wide eyed as he sipped at the tea, taking a bite of his tea biscuit.

“Yeah, is there any more of this? What kind of tea is this? I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of having it before.” he said, taking another sip. She looked at them sheepishly, leaning into Neville’s embrace.

“It’s butterfly pea tea infused with strawberry and honey. Also there’s more of everything! I kinda went overboard.” she responded. Neville smiled, grabbing her hand before placing a kiss on top of it.

“Well thank you, I really appreciate it. You’re so lovely.” he muttered, turning her hand to place a kiss on her palm before proceeding to do the same all up her arm. She giggled some at the action, looking away from him shyly.

“Well I better get going before Twyla buys more stupid things with Draco’s black card.” she turned once as she got to the door. “Good luck with your meeting!” 

Neville sighed happily before turning back around, looking at the men at the table before them. He grabbed whatever scraps the ravegers had left, eyeing everyone intensely. “What?” he spat out angrily.

“Mate you are so whipped!”

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TAGSLIST: @vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff @clancyscookies @elemental-of-magic @beewitchedlou @simpforremuslupin @mottergirl99 @princesslaiahg​ @nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend​ @redpanda-poetry​ @vibingaesthetically

[moralesispunk]

First Dates

Marcus Moreno x Reader

Summary - You and Marcus finally go on your first date together

No warnings

This is the second part of my Marcus fic

Master list / Part 1 here < / part 3 here >

On the drive home from your morning with Marcus, you couldn’t stop the smile that had taken over your face. While you had been enjoying spending time with him casually, his company sweetening your caramel latte mornings, you were excited to go on an official date with him.

You were a bit nervous over the fact you had already met Missy, knowing that he had avoided introducing or even telling Missy about any of his dates since he started dating again. However, by the sounds of things he had mentioned you to her before and, well, that made your whole chest warm.

While you knew that you were enjoying your time with Marcus more than just as new friends you weren't thinking that he was feeling the same. He was handsome and kind and you kept putting the spark you thought you felt down to his politeness. The fact that it wasn’t a one-sided feeling made you happier than you could believe.

Once you arrived home you decided to spend the rest of the afternoon cleaning your apartment before making dinner. As you looked out all of the ingredients you would need you heard your phone ringing from the kitchen counter. You looked over in enough time to see the screen flashing with an unknown number but the call ended before you could reach for it. Two seconds later a text flashed through from the same number:

It’s Marcus - from the coffee shop!

You smiled, swiping across to phone him back. He answered before the end of the first ring.

“Hi,” his voice came through, a litter shyer than you had heard it before.

“Hello, Marcus from the coffee shop,” you sang back.

His laugh came through the speaker, a little altered but as beautiful as always.

“I thought you might not answer a call from an unknown number.”

“Good thinking. So, did you and Missy get home okay then?”

“Safe and sound,” he replied and you could hear the smile in his voice, “she’s in watching TV and I’m just making some dinner. What are you doing?”

“Making some dinner too, some spicy chicken pasta I think. What’s on the menu at the- I just realised I don’t know your last name!”

Your laughter mixed together over the speakers, laughing at the fact that while you had shared a lot with each other over this past month your last names hadn’t been on that list.

This moment meant more to Marcus than you had known. While he told you about his work and you said you had heard of the Heroics but didn't know much about them, the fact you didn't know his last name meant you hadn't looked him up to read whatever the news had put out about him over the years.

“Moreno, and yours?”

You gave him your last name before going on.

“Well, whats on the menu at the Moreno household tonight then?”

“Spaghetti and meatballs, they’re Missy’s favourite.”

“I do like spaghetti and meatballs, good choice Missy.”

“Maybe I can make them for you some time,” his flirty smile evident from his deep voice ringing through the phone.

“That sounds even better.”

The both of you spent the rest of the time you made dinner on the phone. You told him that you had the Netflix show he told you about lined up to watch while eating dinner and laughed at the sound of pots and pans clattering together followed with him cursing under his breath but still loud enough for you to hear. 

Marcus finished making dinner first and you hear the tail-end of him shouting for Missy.

“So, you’ll let me know how you like the show?” his voice back to sounding shy again.

“Of course, enjoy dinner Marcus.”

“You too,” he replied, your name sounding soft as it comes from his lips.

As soon as you finish making dinner, plating enough for tonight and putting the rest in a leftover tub, you sit down to watch the show Marcus had told you about. It was a murder mystery show, based on another book of the same author he had been reading when you first met.

Once the first episode finished you clicked on the next, knowing that you would probably finish this show tonight. It was amazing and you could imagine Marcus as he watched it, guessing along with the detectives and getting excited when he got the twist before anyone on the show, the same way he must have done while reading his book from all the notes he left behind. You decided to send him a text.

You: I’m loving this! On to the next episode already.

Marcus: I knew you would love it! Do you have any guesses yet?

You text one another back and forth for the rest of the night and you make your way through the show like you thought. Marcus decides to join you in watching the last episode, wanting to watch at the same time as you. You phone him as soon as you finish, realising it was left on a cliffhanger.

“They can’t end it like that!”

Marcus laughs at you reaction, hearing your voice echo through before his finger had even lifted from the answer button.

“It’s not funny! Are they making another series?”

“I think so, I’ve heard it’s coming out in a few months,” he replies, still laughing.

“Thank God,” you sigh.

“So, you really liked it then?”

“I really did. Thank you for telling me about it.”

“It’s no problem, I’m glad you liked it,” he said.

“Well, it is getting late now and I think I’m going to head to bed but I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“I would like that. Talk to you tomorrow. Sweet dreams.”

You went to bed smiling at the thought of Marcus that night. You were falling for a man who you had only met a few times before and technically hadn’t been on even a first date with yet. It scared you but something in you told you to give in to the fall.

---------

The next day you woke to a good morning text from Marcus, telling you that him and Missy were going to his mums for the day and to have a good day.

You went about your Sunday as normal, running errands with a little extra skip in your step. As you put your shopping in your car and sat in the drivers seat, your phone flashed with Marcus’s name.

“Hello!” you answered.

“Hi, how are you today?” he asked.

“I’m good, just running errands. Hows your day at your mums?”

“Good, I mean she has me and Missy working hard in the kitchen,”  he laughs, “I was actually phoning to see if you’re free on Saturday for dinner? Missy is going to stay at my mums that night.”

“I am indeed, that sounds lovely Marcus.”

“Great, I’m looking forward to it! I’ve got to go before head chef notices I’ve went missing but I’ll talk to you later?”

“Talk to you later, Marcus.”

The rest of the week goes in quickly and you Marcus talk every day. You spend some nights talking on the phone for hours after Missy went to bed or in days you were busy you both managed even just a quick text on your breaks from work. 

Marcus: The one day I had planned to finish work early and I just a pile of paperwork the height of me put on my desk

You: Just sneak out, you're the leader of the Heroics after all!

You: Should I have pizza or pasta for dinner?

Marcus: Pasta! Definitely pasta.

By the time Saturday came, you weren’t nervous but rather excited to see Marcus again. He had told you that would pick you up at 7 and had booked a table at his favourite Italians.

You spent the day relaxing and looking forward to it, looking out some clothes you felt good in but nothing too fancy. You enjoyed taking the time to do your hair and make up just as you liked it, having a spare 15 minutes to sit and wait before he should be arriving. In those 15 minutes the butterflies finally came. You were going on a date with a man who you had been slowly falling for over a month before quickly hitting the ground over this past week.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door, answering it to find Marcus standing at the other side. He looked as handsome as ever, sporting something a little smarter than you had seen before with a nice shirt and trousers. His hair was combed back too but the same glasses perched on his nose. His bright smile was on his face as usual, looking a little shyer now though.

“Hi, I got you these,” he said, handing over the most beautiful flowers you think you’ve ever seen.

“Oh Marcus, they’re stunning. Have I got time to put them in some water before we leave?” you asked and he nodded.

You invited him inside, walking straight to the kitchen to fill up a vase for the flowers.

“You have a lovely place,” Marcus said, smiling at some of the photos and art you had hanging up on the wall. He guessed who was who in the photos from what you had told him about your family before, the tall man you had your arm slung around at a barbecue who looked a lot like you must have been your younger brother and the older couple you were standing next to at what looked like a wedding your parents.

“Thank you, its just rented so can’t do too much to it but I think I’ve managed to make it feel enough like home for now,” you voice called out to the hall.

You fixed the flowers in the vase, placing it on the kitchen table. You didn’t notice but Marcus had moved to standing against the doorway, watching as you did so. You looked beautiful as you carefully fixed the flowers in the vase, carefully lifting one to smell it before smiling and putting it back in its place.

“Ready?” you asked, turning to smile at him.

“Ready,” he said back, trying not to fluster under your gaze.

He walked out, leading you out to his car, opening the door and waiting till you had got in to shut it before walking around to the drivers side.

The drive there was comfortable, the quiet radio filling what few silences you shared. He told you about the restaurant, a small family run Italians he stumbled across one day that made the best home-made pasta. It wasn’t too far from where you stayed and when you arrived Marcus told you to wait, letting him get out to open up your door for you.

It was such a simple gesture but one you couldn’t remember having been done for you before. He held your hand as you got out the car, placing his hand on your lower back as you walked to the restaurant. 

It looked small and cosy, the place lit by few lights but a lot of candles. The smell of pasta and sauce and wine filled your senses as Marcus opened the door for you, giving his name to the man at the front. They took you over to a table near the back, a cosy booth that meant you were sitting close to one another.

“The penne arrabbiata is amazing here,” Marcus said as you opened up the menus.

“It does sound good, what are you getting?”

You read through the menus together before ordering your food and drinks. Just as the young waiter walks off an older man comes over, dressed similarly but a bit different to the rest of the staff.

“Mr Moreno,” the mans voice booms as he leans to shake Marcus’s hand.

“Peter. I told you, Marcus is fine,” he replies as he shakes the mans hand back

“And who is this lovely lady, not your usual companion tonight,” the man turns to smile at you.

You look back at Marcus, half jokingly raising your eyebrow, before turning back to the man. Marcus gives him your name, letting the man know you're on a date as what must be the manager smiles and shakes your hand back before leaving you to your night.

“He meant Missy, by the way. We usually come here for lunch when we’re in the mood for pasta, she likes that the kids menu is the same as the adults just smaller portions. Just in case you thought he meant-,”

“It’s okay, Marcus,” you laugh.

You spend the rest of the night learning even more about each other than you already had. It was strange, for it being your first date you already knew so much about one another. 

At the end of the night, Marcus came back from the toilet, lifting your jacket to help you into it.

“We need to pay,” you said as you brought your arms into the sleeves.

“Already sorted it,” Marcus said back as he put his own jacket on, giving you a cheeky smile.

“Will you ever let me pay for something?” you teased back.

“Maybe one day.”

You walked back to the car, Marcus helping you in once again, before driving back to your home.

“I had a lovely night, Marcus. I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard,” you said, turning to face him.

His face was lit by the street lights casting a flashing orange hue over his face. His eyes sparkled every time the light touched them. He had a soft smile on his face as he turned to face you at the red light.

“Me either. I really enjoy spending time with you. I feel like I’ve known you forever,” he said back, reaching to lift your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss against the back.

His lips were soft and warm as they pressed gently into the back of your hand, his eyes staring into yours as he did so. It felt like this one simple moment lasted forever, your stomach doing flip after flip. You couldn’t help the blush that creeped onto your face, visible even in the dark night. As the light turned green, Marcus turned to face the road now but held your hand in his. You looked over his every feature, from his hair to his nose to the stubble that covered his jaw.

He pulled up outside your home with you still admiring him.

“Can I walk you in?” he asked, undoing his seatbelt as you nodded.

You both walked towards your door, his hands in his pockets and you playing with your hands.

“So, I really did have a wonderful night Marcus,” you said.

“So did I. Can we do this again?”

“I would definitely like that,” you replied.

A silence fell over you both for moment, looking anywhere but one another’s eyes. When you finally looked up your eyes met his. They quickly darted down to your lips before looking back up again. Feeling braver than you usually would, you took a step forward so there was little space between your bodies now.

You reached up, placing your hand on the side of his cheek. His eyes closed for a moment, leaning into your hand, before he lifted his hands to cup your face. You both leaned in at the same time, your lips brushing over one another slightly before he finally leaned in to kiss you properly.

It was gentle and soft. Your mouths moved in time with one another, no rushing as you enjoyed each other in this moment. Your hand left his cheek and moved to hold gently onto his arm. When you finally broke apart, a little breathless and giddy, neither of you moved further apart.

You stayed for a moment, your hand resting on his arm and his hands gently holding your face. He leaned down and gave you a final soft kiss before stepping back a little.

“Wow,” he whispered, a small laugh hidden in the word.

“Yeah,” you whispered back.

“So, I’ll give you a call?” he said, placing his hands back in his pockets.

You nodded, “let me know when you get home safe?”

He gave you a smile, waiting until you unlocked the door to head in before turning back to his car. As you walked in to your place you turned just in time to catch Marcus skip a little as he hopped of the curb to walk round to the drivers side. You waited by the door, both waving at one another as he headed off.

Neither of you were falling anymore. You had both fallen, hard.

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Tags: @heythere-mel

[onceuponaloonatic]

(i just read most of surrogate au on a road trip i Love) do you want to do chaeyoung is hanging out with jihyo and baby nico but jihyo has to run in for a work thing or smth and so chaeyoung is left alone with nico. chaeyoung however has Zero childcare skills and is so clueless. queue chaeyoung getting nontoxic paint and trying to paint with 2 month old nico, its literally all smears and both are covered in paint from head to toe by the end but sana and jihyo both love it and take one of the "artworks" and frame it.

thank you so much !! sorry for the wait !! also i only have three asks left so if you guys have any ideas please send asks!!

“Who’s the cutest baby in the world? You are.” Jihyo smiled as she tickled Nico’s stomach, earning her a giggle in response. Nico had just started giggling a few days ago, right after her second month of life had officially begun. Needless to say, her parents could not give enough of it. Sana had taken countless videos the first time Nico giggled, and had sent all of them to Jihyo. Now that Jihyo was watching Nico, she couldn’t get enough of her baby girl giggling. “I love you.” Jihyo kissed Nico’s cheek.

“Babe if you give her too much attention she’s going to be spoiled.” Chaeyoung giggled from the couch. She had received most of the videos from Jihyo, and she thought it was adorable how in love with Nico Jihyo was. She also knew her girlfriend needed this time with Nico. She hadn’t been able to spend much time with her lately and Chaeyoung knew it was eating at Jihyo. “I think it’s too late for that.” Jihyo picked Nico up and carried her to the couch where she sat next to Chaeyoung. She quickly settled Nico before leaning into her girlfriend. “You’ve seen how Sana is with her. Sana is like obsessed with Nico.” “Don’t pretend you aren’t too.” Chaeyoung giggled. “You are just as in love with her as Sana is. She’s my competition for your heart.” Chaeyoung smiled when a tiny foot kicked her arm as Nico wiggled in Jihyo’s lap.

“You know I love both of you right? It’s not a competition. I love both of you.” Jihyo nodded, resting her head on Chaeyoung’s shoulder. Chaeyoung’s arm snaked its way around her waist and Jihyo smiled. “I know. Don’t tell Nico though, we have a bet going.” Chaeyoung laughed as Nico’s foot kicked her again. Chaeyoung took her free hand and grabbed Nico’s foot, squeezing her clothed foot. Nico’s toes curled reflexively, gripping onto Chaeyoung's hand while she played with Jihyo’s shirt collar. Their perfect moment was interrupted when Jihyo’s phone rang. Jihyo sighed, moving Nico to one arm to pick up the phone. Chaeyoung squeezed Jihyo’s waist before letting go, moving to take Nico from her girlfriend. Nico giggled as Chaeyoung lifted her up as high as she could before bringing her back in. Jihyo eyed her with an amused smile while she talked on the phone, but it was quickly replaced with a look Chaeyoung knew all too well. “Your boss?” Chaeyoung asked once Jihyo was off the phone. “It’s Saturday. My boss knows I don’t work weekends.” Jihyo sighed. “But there’s an emergency in the case, if I don't fix it we might not be able to get the conviction.” “I get it.” Chaeyoung smiled. “You have an important job. Nico knows that too. I’ve got her, go.” “Thank you so much. I love you. You're the best.” Jihyo gave Chaeyoung a quick kiss before getting up to get dressed. “I know. I’m the best girlfriend in the world. It’s a curse.” Chaeyoung said dramatically. Jihyo laughed as she quickly threw on work appropriate clothes. Once she was dressed she pulled her hair up in a quick ponytail before moving to say goodbye. “Be good for Auntie Chaeyoung Nico.” Jihyo kissed Nico’s chubby cheek. “And you, no roughhousing.” “Can’t make any promises.” Chaeyoung giggled. “I’m serious. I should be back after lunch. You have Sana’s number but in case your phone dies it’s on the fridge. Her bottles with instructions are in the fridge. Sana wrote them so they should be pretty through but if you have any questions I’ll keep my phone on and Momo calls herself the master of bottles, she doesn’t need to eat until after her mid-day nap but if I’m not back by then you’ll need to take care of it. She needs to nap at eleven thirty, and she should be awake by one. The baby monitor is on but if there’s any issues with it-”

“Jihyo, it’s okay. Seriously you and Sana both spiral so much. It’s going to be okay. Nico and I have hung out before. I love you, have fun at work.” Chaeyoung giggled, kissing Jihyo one more time.

“Thank you. I love you too. Bye Chae, bye Nico!” Chaeyoung had to practically push Jihyo out of the apartment. “It’s just you and me kiddo.” Chaeyoung giggled, kissing Nico’s cheek before taking her over to the couch. She sat for a few minutes before Nico started whining. Chaeyoung quickly went through the usual list of Nico things but it quickly dawned on her why Nico was whining. “You're bored. Alright, let’s find something for you to do.” Chaeyoung went over to the baby bag Sana had packed and looked through it. She found a toy for Nico, pulling it out and giving it to Nico. Nico felt the toy, but immediately threw it. “Alright not that.” Chaeyoung sighed. She had spent time with Nico before, but not alone. She actually had never watched kids alone. Her best friend growing up babysat a bit in high school for some extra money, but Chaeyoung only went with her once and the kid was ten. It was nothing like taking care of a baby. It was a little overwhelming. So Chaeyoung did what she normally did when she had no idea what to do. Google.

After a quick “what to do with a two month old” google search and looking through a few articles she came to the conclusion she had no idea what she was doing. She had already tried toys, Nico had quickly rejected that. Sana and Momo handled tummy time so Chaeyoung didn’t want to do anything that would be wrong or confusing for Nico. Nico’s nap didn’t start for an hour, and she clearly wasn’t hungry. “What do you want to do baby?” Chaeyoung sighed, thinking about what to do. “You could help Auntie Chaeyoung with her work, would that be fun?” Chaeyoung’s answer came with a tiny kick to the arm and she took that as a yes. She carried Nico over to the makeshift paint station she had in the corner of their living room. Before she moved in, Jihyo had an old piano she had inherited from her family there. Now the piano sat on the other side of the living room and Jihyo’s dead plant that had been sitting in her living room for way too long had been replaced. Chaeyoung liked the change, it felt a lot more homey. “Alright let’s see. Here, this is non-toxic. Have you ever painted before?” Chaeyoung asked. “I’m guessing you haven’t. Your mommies are kind of boring. Let’s change that.” Chaeyoung smiled. “Do you know what color this is? This is red.” Chaeyoung smiled, getting some red non-toxic paint and putting some on her paint tray. She moved Nico so she was using one hand to support her body, Nico looking at her curiously. Chaeyoung put one finger in the red paint, showing it to Nico before putting it on the blank canvas. “Want to try?” Chaeyoung grabbed one of Nico’s hands and put it in the paint before putting it on the canvas. Nico giggled as a tiny hand print appeared on the canvas. “Like that? Let’s get some more colors yeah?” xx

Jihyo got through her work as quickly as possible. She wanted to be back before Nico’s nap in case Chaeyoung had trouble putting her down and she wanted to spend time with Nico. Thankfully, she got through it all quickly. She rushed home as fast as she could, noting she got home a couple minutes before Nico’s nap was supposed to start.

“Chae? I’m back!” Jihyo called when she entered the apartment. She took her shoes off before going into the living room. She saw her daughter and girlfriend sitting at Chaeyoung’s painting station. Both of them were covered in paint somehow but both had huge smiles on their faces. Jihyo couldn’t help herself but take a picture. “Hi baby.” Jihyo greeted after taking a picture.

“Oh hey! Nico look Mama’s back!” Chaeyoung giggled. “We made art.” “I can see that.” Jihyo smiled, taking Nico from Chaeyong and giggling at how much paint was on the denim dress Sana had put on her that morning. “Let’s go get you clean and then take a nap.” “I’ll clean up here.” Chaeyoung smiled. Jihyo nodded and carried Nico to their bedroom. She undressed Nico before putting her in the sink and gently wiping the paint off of her. She put on Nico’s pink frog print pajamas before sitting down on the bed with Nico in her arms. She rubbed Nico’s back and hummed to her as she waited for her to fall asleep. Nico was out quicker than Jihyo had ever seen her, and Jihyo gently put her in her crib before going back to her girlfriend. “She asleep?” Chaeyoung asked. “She fell asleep faster than she ever has with me.” Jihyo smiled, sitting in Chaeyoung’s lap. “Cool. Look at the art we did.” Chaeyoung showed Jihyo the canvas, which was covered in paint smudges and tiny hand prints. “Aww. We should hang this in the new living room.” Jihyo giggled.

“Hmm.. I think we should put it in Nico’s new room. The nice thing about moving is she will have her own room with us too.” “We could do that. Or you two could make a smaller one and it could go onto our new fancy fridge.” Jihyo offered. “Oh, sounds good. I meant to ask, would you prefer purple or blue for Nico’s new room? I was thinking we could do a sky theme with clouds and stars, but I wanted to ask your opinion first.” Chaeyoung asked.

“Chaeyoung, you really don’t have to-”

“No no no. You agreed to give me complete creative control of Nico’s room when you decided to give her her own room. It’s part of being my girlfriend.” Chaeyoung wrapped her arms around Jihyo’s waist.

“I was going to say, you don’t need to paint my daughter’s room. It’s a lot of work-”

“I know. But we can do it together. Nico deserves the world.” Chaeyoung kissed Jihyo’s temple. “Plus painting is kind of sexy, isn’t it?” “I can’t believe you.” Jihyo rolled her eyes, but couldn’t fight the proud smile on her face. Even if she was faking annoyance, she loved how much Chaeyoung loved Nico. When they were first dating, Chaeyoung had seemed apprehensive about Nico. Jihyo and her were already dating when Jihyo found out Sana was pregnant, but their relationship was only a few weeks old and definitely not in a place to be having kids together. Chaeyoung was younger than her too, so Jihyo was worried about how she would be with Nico. But ever since Chaeyoung had met her, she had been in love with Nico. And it seemed the longer they were together, the more Chaeyoung fell in love with Jihyo’s daughter. Nico was important to Jihyo, and so was Chaeyoung. She couldn’t help but be filled to the brim with happiness seeing them get along. “Love you too Hyo.”

[lesdemonium]

romtober day 7: misunderstandings

Rating: M Ship: Geraskier Word Count: 4319 Summary: Cirilla's new nanny, Mister Julian, is her favorite person in the whole world. Geralt's new boyfriend, Jaskier, is pretty high up there as well. No one realizes they might be the same person.

AKA: the nanny/parent au written by a nanny

a MASSIVE thank you for betaing to @boppinrobin. y’all have them to thank for how romantic this wound up being.

read on ao3

“Mister Julian says that the things we learn in school are very important but it’s also important to learn things outside of school. Like about rainbows. Did you know that any time light… ref… refracts it can make a rainbow? Like through windows or… or… Daddy, do you know what refracts means?”

Geralt hummed a little as he and Ciri walked. He thought that answer was enough, until his five year old pulled impatiently at his hand and Geralt looked down to see her frowning at him.

“I do,” he said, nodding a little. “Do you know? Do you want to tell me?”

“I do!” Ciri insisted proudly. She let go of Geralt’s hand now that they were inside their building and she ran to the elevator to make sure she could press the button first. When the button lit up, she gave Geralt a devilish smile and he pretended to be disappointed that he couldn’t hit the button first, much to her delight. “It’s okay, Daddy. Maybe next time. I’m just too fast.”

“You are,” Geralt agreed. He nudged her into the now-open elevator. “Didn’t you want to tell me what refract means?”

“Yes! Mister Julian told me all about it! It’s when something makes light change directions! Like… like water! Or windows!” Ciri was literally bouncing in her excitement to share her knowledge and Geralt found himself grinning down at her, just before leading them both to the door to their condo.

“It sounds like you’re learning a lot of really cool things from Mister Julian,” Geralt said. He unlocked the door and ushered her inside.

“Mister Julian is the best. He’s the smartest guy in the whole wide world!”

Ciri attempted to drop her things--backpack, coat, art project and all--onto the floor, only to be stopped by a chiding look from Geralt. She huffed dramatically and picked it all back up and put her belongings back where they went. Geralt offered a quick “Thank you, Ciri,” but she had already moved on to go play in her room until dinner.

Dinner, of course, was filled with chatter about nothing but Mister Julian, but Geralt couldn’t bring himself to be bothered. It was nice that she enjoyed her new nanny at Yennefer’s. By the end of the meal, Geralt was pretty sure he wanted to meet Mister Julian.

--

Geralt thought it had to be a new level of pathetic to be stood up by your own brother, and yet here he was. He wouldn’t have necessarily chosen this bar for himself, but now that he was here, he figured he might as well order a drink, even if Lambert was a dick who didn’t bother to show up. Only a quick “something came up” text and some shitty joke about maybe Geralt could find someone to pull the stick out of his ass for him. Prick.

Geralt was halfway into his drink when someone sat beside him. He didn't bother to look--he was pretty sure the stranger was just trying to order a drink--until he felt the other’s shoulder knock against his.

“I’d love to give you a pickup line, but I get the feeling that wouldn’t go very far with you,” blue eyes said.

Turned out, the rest of him was just as beautiful as his eyes. Given the line the man had already paid him, Geralt felt no shame in letting his gaze drag over his company’s body, and Geralt had to admit he liked what he saw. The curve of his lips screamed mischief, and the cut of his shirt betrayed a deceptively muscular chest. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a total bust.

“Perceptive,” Geralt answered, taking a long drink of his beer. His eyebrow raised as he met Jaskier’s eye again, and Jaskier straightened up as he settled into the stool beside Geralt.

“I’m Jaskier,” the man said, and motioned at the bartender. He ordered quickly, then turned his attention wholly back to Geralt. “So, does this statuesque masculinity come with a name, or do you prefer to brood your way to recognition?”

“Geralt,” he answered with a smirk. Geralt was pretty sure he had never been made fun of so quickly into what he was almost certain would become a hookup. He quite liked it.

“Geralt, the man of few words,” Jaskier grinned. He received his drink, and held it up, looking pointedly at Geralt’s beer until Geralt clinked the glass together in a wordless cheers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The pleasure, it turned out, was all Geralt’s. If Jaskier was bothered by carrying the conversation, he certainly didn’t show it. He seemed to even have a knack for pulling information out of Geralt efficiently, between stories. Geralt didn’t learn too much about Jaskier’s personal life--he didn’t think he would--but it only took a few minutes into their conversation for him to realize that he might like to.

From the moment he laid hands on Jaskier--in the privacy of Geralt’s own condo, as neither one of them was particularly keen on giving any unassuming strangers even a tame show--he felt indisputable chemistry. They didn’t have to discuss much to understand that they were on the same page about, well, everything. Even how they both liked to kiss, or the way they liked to be touched. It wasn’t magic, it wasn’t perfect, and Geralt definitely had his hands shoved away from somewhere Jaskier apparently did not enjoy being touched, but it was about as close to electrifying as Geralt had ever gotten with a new partner.

“Jesus,” Jaskier panted as his head hit the pillow.

Geralt snorted into Jaskier’s sweat-sheened shoulder, but he had to agree.

When Geralt woke to find Jaskier still in his bed, starfishing and completely unbothered by another body, Geralt was surprised. Pleasantly surprised, but still surprised. He sat up slowly and made his way to the bathroom, and by the time he came back, Jaskier was sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I swear I normally don't do sleepovers without at least discussing it first,” Jaskier said, smiling sheepishly at Geralt. “Apparently you wore me out.”

“Apparently I did,” Geralt answered, shrugging. “It’s fine. Do you want breakfast? I can make eggs.”

Jaskier watched him for a moment, with a cautious smile, then nodded. “Breakfast sounds incredible.”

Nearly an hour later, they both were fed, dressed (though Jaskier scrunched up his nose at rewearing last night’s wrinkled outfit), and Jaskier leaned forward into the kitchen table, staring at Geralt.

“Would it be bold of me to request a repeat performance?” Jaskier asked. “Maybe even a meal that isn’t immediately following an accidental sleepover?”

Geralt hesitated a moment. He wanted to, more than anything, but.

“I have to let you know,” Geralt started, “so you can make a fully informed decision. I have a daughter. A five-year-old.”

Jaskier grinned, then bent down, disappearing beneath the table. Geralt watched, his head tilting as he puzzled out this bizarre reaction, and then Jaskier sat back up, a pink stuffed bunny in his hand.

“You mean to tell me this isn’t yours?” Jaskier asked, his voice affronted, though he was still grinning and even managed to wink at Geralt.

“His name is Mr. Bun and he’s part of the family,” Geralt said, with a smile in return.

Jaskier left that morning with the clothes he had worn the night previously, a full belly, and Geralt’s number entered into his phone and a promise that, yes, they could try for dinner next time. Geralt found himself feeling almost as if he needed to thank Lambert for being a prick. He wouldn’t, though.

--

“You’re looking cheerier than usual,” Yennefer said as Geralt stepped back to let her inside.

“Ciri, your mom’s here!” Geralt called. “Do you have your bag ready?”

There was a bang from behind Ciri’s door, one that Geralt absolutely did not want to ask about, before she called back, “Yes! I just forgot something!” Geralt was pretty sure she was lying and that he should say something about that, but it didn’t seem like a battle worth waging when packing her bag was already going to take her time.

“Going to explain, or should I start guessing?” Yennefer asked, smirking at him. “Hm… there was a sale on ugly combat boots and you picked up a few dozen more?” 

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Surely you could do better than that. Don’t tell me you’ve lost your touch,” he teased. 

“Haven’t lost my touch, simply want you to get to the point. What has you looking so pleased?” She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow, and even if Geralt wanted to deflect, he knew from the set of her shoulders Yennefer wasn’t going to just let it go. There was no need for him to, though.

“I have a date tonight.” 

“You do? Well, tell me about them? What’s so great about this date that made you pawn off your daughter a night early?”

“You asked to have Ciri early. She’ll think you’re serious if she overhears you,” Geralt frowned. Yennefer waved an insistent hand back. “His name is Jaskier.”

“Mommy!” Ciri called, bounding out of her room and running straight into Yennefer’s arms. Yennefer spun her around once before setting her feet back on the ground, and Ciri grinned up at her. “Is Mister Julian coming to see me this week?”

“Of course he is,” Yennefer answered, nodding at her. “He’ll pick you up from school on Monday.”

“Good.” Ciri’s voice contained every ounce of seriousness in the world, and Geralt had to bite back his laugh. Ciri did not like thinking that Geralt was laughing at her. Not that he blamed her. “I have something very important to tell him.”

“And what’s that?”

“Hippos make pink slime instead of using sunscreen!”

Yennefer’s nose scrunched up and she glanced at Geralt, who shrugged.

“We spent this weekend looking up facts to tell Mister Julian. She picked that one,” Geralt answered.

“That is fascinating and adequately disgusting. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” Yennefer took Ciri’s hand and her bag, which she slung over her shoulder. “Say bye to your dad, Ciri. We need to run.” She pointed a finger on her free hand at Geralt. “I expect to hear all about your weekend when you come pick her up.”

--

It wasn’t until their fifth date that Geralt took Jaskier home again.

Coming back for a hookup was one thing; usually people Geralt brought home left as soon as they caught their breath and never came back. Going on an actual date with someone, though, was different. Bringing someone he was actively dating into the home Geralt shared with his daughter was a whole other level that had to be handled extremely carefully. And slowly.

Luckily, Jaskier understood.

“It’s been so long, I almost forgot where you lived,” Jaskier said, grinning as Geralt opened the door for him. “I’m flattered I’m being invited back. I must be doing something right.”

Geralt snorted, then backed up to let Jaskier back into the condo. Jaskier followed after him, only to crowd Geralt against the door and bring him in for a kiss. Geralt’s arms wound around Jaskier’s middle, turning them both so he could close the door behind them, lest they give Geralt’s neighbors an unintended show. 

“A lot of things right,” Geralt answered once they pulled away, and he lived for the way Jaskier beamed at him.

“Did you know,” Jaskier said conversationally, over the dinner Geralt had cooked for them, “that your daughter and my charge are the same age?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at Jaskier and finished his bite. Jaskier didn’t often volunteer information about his charge. Geralt hadn’t pressed, of course, after Jaskier mentioned his job as a nanny on their first official date, and then followed up with “For confidentiality reasons, I can’t tell you much about her, but she is just the best.”

“I thought you didn’t talk about your charge with people you were dating,” Geralt answered. He put down his fork, as he was finished with his meal, and rested his hand on Jaskier’s leg.

“I don’t, but I would consider it, a bit, with a boyfriend,” Jaskier answered, and his hand hovered above Geralt��s, just barely avoiding contact. Though his tone was as even and nonchalant as possible, and he shrugged his shoulders, Jaskier wouldn’t look at Geralt; he was nervous. “And, well. I figured it might give you permission to talk about your daughter. And know that you’re not going to scare me off if you do.”

“Hmm,” Geralt said. He captured Jaskier’s still-hovering hand and entwined their fingers. Geralt waited until Jaskier met his eye again, then smiled. “I suppose telling my boyfriend about my daughter makes sense.”

--

“I’m just wondering what sort of name Jaskier is, anyway,” Yennefer said.

Geralt rolled his eyes and gave her an exasperated look, but Yen only grinned wickedly back. 

“It’s a stage name, and a nickname,” Geralt answered, shrugging.

“A nickname for what?”

“I don’t know. He hasn’t told me and I haven’t asked.”

“You’ve been dating this guy for, what, three months now, and you don’t even know his name?” Yennefer sounded incredulous.

“I know his name. It’s Jaskier. “ Geralt smirked, and Yennefer looked likely to hit him.

She hadn’t given Geralt even the tiniest bit of rest about it all since Geralt had admitted that he and Jaskier were serious over a month ago, but Geralt found himself less and less bothered by it. She had made it clear that she simply wanted to meet him, and that was her goal with all this teasing, but Geralt wasn’t ready. Yennefer meeting Jaskier likely meant Ciri meeting Jaskier, and though he knew he was serious, he felt they needed quite a bit more stability before his five-year-old was brought into the picture. Jaskier seemed to agree, if his lack of pressing about it was anything to go off of.

“Do you even know his last name?” Yennefer asked.

“I do. But I’m not telling you. You don’t need to internet stalk him.”

“Oh, but I so love being nosey.”

Geralt snorted, then turned to the bright patter of Ciri’s feet running to him and jumping in his arms. He caught her, and lifted her up in a bear hug. “Ready to go?” he asked. Ciri nodded enthusiastically.

“Did you ask Mister Julian if he’s free Friday?” Geralt asked, turning back to Yen and holding out his hand for Ciri’s bag, which Yennefer passed to him.

“Sorry, he said he was busy,” Yennefer answered with a sympathetic grimace.

“Someday I’ll meet Ciri’s favorite person in the whole world,” Geralt said. He slung the bag over his arm and put Ciri down, instead taking her hand. “That’s fine. How’s a night at Grandpa’s then?”

Ciri’s eyes grew comically large. “Yes! Last time we had unicorn pancakes! For dinner!” she said.

Geralt very much did not want to know what unicorn pancakes were, or just how much of a sugarbomb they contained. Instead of asking, he waved at Yen and took Ciri back home.

--

Geralt could feel himself drifting. He shouldn’t let himself, he knew, but it was hard not to when he was wrapped up in his warm bed, still shaking off sleep, and Jaskier was lightly tracing patterns on Geralt’s bare chest. There were things he had to do, like clean up after their date night, and go pick Ciri up from Vesemir’s, but Geralt figured there wasn’t much harm in letting himself have this moment. He hummed, to let Jaskier know he was awake. Hopefully he’d not let Geralt drift off again.

“Morning,” Jaskier said. His voice wasn’t a whisper, but it was a near thing.

“Since when do you wake up before me?” Geralt asked. With great effort, he opened an eye to look at Jaskier, who was smiling down at Geralt, his head propped up with his elbow.

“I wouldn’t get used to it,” Jaskier answered. He continued trailing his fingers along Geralt’s chest. “I’m sure next time you’ll have to chase me out when I inevitably oversleep and your daughter’s on her way home.”

Geralt hummed and caught Jaskier’s hand, then pressed his lips to Jaskier’s fingers. Though the light streaming in from the window was entirely too bright, Geralt found he didn’t mind. Jaskier was haloed in the soft light.

“Maybe sometime you can meet her,” Geralt said.

Jaskier grinned and leaned in to press a kiss to Geralt’s collarbone. “I’d love to. When you’re both ready,” he said. He lifted his head again, then paused, before pressing a slow, sweet kiss to Geralt’s lips.

“Hmm, yeah, it’s official,” Jaskier said as he pulled back.

Geralt furrowed his eyebrows as he reached out to card his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. “What’s official?”

“That I love you,” Jaskier said.

He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he hadn’t just thrown Geralt completely for a loop and left him boneless. Jaskier sounded so sure, so honest, and he was beaming down at Geralt.

“Is that so?” Geralt finally answered, his mouth dry.

Jaskier’s face did not dampen, not even a little, as he nodded. “It is. I know because I still felt that way when I kissed you, morning breath and all.”

Geralt snorted and pushed himself up to sit. He still held Jaskier’s hand, and he pressed a kiss to his palm--to spare him from any further morning breath--then let go and stood up. Jaskier sat up, too, and was looking at Geralt with such a look of adoration, that Geralt felt himself flushing under the attention as he made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

The escape helped clear his head. After his teeth were brushed, he left the bathroom to find Jaskier getting dressed, pulling a new outfit from the drawer Geralt had cleared out for him. They smiled at each other, then switched, Jaskier brushing his teeth and Geralt getting dressed. 

It was so easy, that Geralt found himself a bit floored. It had been slow, and Geralt hadn’t truly noticed, but in the warm shock of Jaskier’s confession, he noticed there were little reminders of Jaskier everywhere: the clothes in the drawer, Jaskier’s toothbrush in Geralt’s bathroom. The pictures from the photobooth of the two of them sitting on Geralt’s nightstand. 

Geralt returned to the bathroom and leaned against the doorway. Geralt watched, silently, as Jaskier finished brushing his teeth, then grinned at Geralt.

“Don’t tell me you’re kicking me out already. I woke up early for you! I thought we could go to brunch. Maybe do an early six-month anniversary thing, since I’m working on our actual anniversary.” Jaskier paused to let out a nervous laugh and card his fingers through his hair. “Monthiversary? Whatever. Six months is a big deal, okay, I promise I’ll let you off the hook for other month markers, but six months is a big deal.”

“I love you, too,” Geralt said. He reached out a hand and Jaskier allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Jaskier’s body sagged in relief against Geralt and Geralt held him all the tighter for it. This was right. Geralt hadn’t felt this sure about anything in a long time.

--

“How would you feel about Jaskier meeting Ciri?” Geralt asked as soon as Yennefer opened the door.

Yennefer paused for a moment, blinking.

“I hate when you do that. Next time can you greet me before bombarding me with big questions?” Yennefer asked, frowning at him.

“Hi Yen,” Geralt answered, nodding a little. He supposed that was fair. “How has your week been? I wanted to chat about this before Ciri comes down. So she doesn’t get excited or think it’s happening if you say no.”

“Well, I appreciate that.” Yennefer let out an audible breath, then gestured for Geralt to come inside. “So, things are pretty serious with him, then?”

“Yes. We’ve been together nine months.”

Yennefer put her hands on her hips and regarded Geralt for a moment. “You’ve been seeing this guy almost a year, and you’re just now considering having him meet Ciri? Jesus, Geralt. I guess we’re all lucky you didn’t wait until a marriage proposal before any of us got to know him.”

“I can’t consider marrying anyone that Ciri hasn’t signed off on,” Geralt answered, shrugging.

“You are the most ridiculous man I’ve ever met. Yes, absolutely, have this guy that’s been in your life for almost an entire year meet Ciri, I give you permission.” Yen’s eyes rolled as she crossed her arms. “I get to meet him after. Before Lambert and Eskel.”

“Agreed,” Geralt said. He thought about sticking out his hand to shake Yennefer’s and seal the deal, but he figured now wasn’t the time to incur Yennefer’s wrath.

--

Geralt was nervous. In fact, nervous didn’t even begin to describe Geralt at this precise moment. Geralt had a feeling Jaskier was probably just as nervous, if not moreso, judging by how quiet he had been all day on the phone. No social media posts, only a couple clarifying questions about the plan for tonight to Geralt, and otherwise completely silent. It helped, if Geralt was being honest. That meant Jaskier knew how big of a deal this was, just as much as Geralt did. If Ciri didn’t like Jaskier--well. Geralt just had to trust that was impossible.

When he heard the knock, Geralt startled. He opened the door to find Jaskier standing there, looking sheepish and gorgeous.

“Ciri? Jaskier’s here,” Geralt said. He reached out a hand for Jaskier, who gladly took it and stepped inside.

Geralt was still turned toward the door, closing it, as Ciri’s steps turned from walking to an all out sprint toward them.

“Mister Julian!” she yelled as she jumped into his--thankfully, just barely ready--arms. Jaskier looked bewildered, and like he was still processing the girl now in his arms. Ciri pulled back and pressed her palms to Jaskier’s cheeks. “I didn’t know you were coming to my dad’s! You didn’t say you were coming over!”

“I...I didn’t know,” Jaskier answered. He bent to put her back on the ground, just a bit too fast to be intentional, but Ciri was delighted by the move. Jaskier then wrung his hands together, but Geralt could still see that they were shaking.

“Julian? You’re Mister Julian?” Geralt asked. He couldn’t process this. He felt dizzy and thrown and suddenly very uncertain of what he should do with his hands.

“Julian’s my first name,” Jaskier answered. Geralt could see the blush creeping along Jaskier’s face. “Since it’s on my driver’s license and easier to say, that’s the name I use. You’re Cirilla’s dad?”

“Dad,” Ciri whined, and when Geralt looked to her she had the most disapproving frown Geralt had ever seen on her face. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re friends with Mister Julian? You said we don’t keep secrets!”

“You’re right,” Geralt agreed. He hesitated a moment, then ran his fingers through her hair. “I didn’t know I was keeping a secret, it was an accident. I call Mister Julian ‘Jaskier.’”

Ciri turned her now very suspicious frown on Jaskier. “Were you keeping a secret? You didn’t tell me you’re my dad’s boyfriend.”

Jaskier laughed and shook his head helplessly. “Trust me, sweetheart. I had no idea. Apparently your dad and I are too good at keeping you safe.”

Ciri seemed to accept that answer, because she shrugged, then ran off to the kitchen as if nothing had happened. Jaskier, however, wheeled on Geralt the moment she turned her back.

“You were married to Yennefer?” Jaskier asked.

“Yes,” Geralt answered. Jaskier let out an incredulous bark of laughter and Geralt placed a hand on the small of his back--trying to steady them both. “We divorced just after we adopted Ciri. How did you not connect her name?”

“I thought maybe you were both inspired by Apple products! Who was I to judge?” Jaskier threw his hands up. A moment later, one landed heavily on Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt could still just barely feel that hand tremble.  “And I don’t call her Ciri! She wanted me to call her Cirilla. I never connected--” He laughed again, shaky and disbelieving. “Oh my god, this does not help nanny stereotypes.”

“At least we know she already likes you?” Geralt offered.

Jaskier gasped, his free hand covering his mouth. He glanced at the kitchen, and by the time he looked back at Geralt, his entire face had crinkled into a broad smile. Jaskier took Geralt’s hand between both of his own and pressed Geralt’s knuckles to his lips, and now Geralt could feel Jaskier’s grin.

“She does,” Jaskier said, sounding as wet as his eyes were. “She does like me!”

Relief washed over Geralt as he really considered what this meant. The hardest part and biggest potential barrier to the future of their relationship had already been crossed before it was even a question. Geralt was not looking forward to how much Yen was going to laugh at him, but he wasn’t worried about their future anymore. Ciri loved Jaskier as much as Geralt did. Everything would be okay.

Geralt pulled his hand from Jaskier’s hold to cup Jaskier’s face and bring him in for a kiss. Somehow, they had managed to do this right. Somehow, they were being rewarded.

“Are we having dinner, or what, lazy boneses?” Ciri called from the kitchen.

Jaskier pulled away to laugh, and Geralt had to capture the mischievous smile Jaskier gave him in another kiss. This time, when Jaskier pulled away, his eyes were soft and his hand was warm as he pulled Geralt to the kitchen.

“Coming, lazy bones?” Jaskier asked, as if Geralt wouldn’t follow him anywhere.