#its late i might go back and edit this a bit tomorrow if i spot any unbearable mistake

[wyverewings]

Malus Chapter 2: Home

I forgot to post this here and only got reminded because of a Wikirby edit (it makes sense I swear). But please enjoy anyway! Here's the first chapter, if you just stumbled across this.

(CW: Magolor eats a bug)

It didn’t take long for Orchid to return home.  The town she lived at, Rainstone, was around half a mile away from the Dragon’s Caldera, and there was a trail connecting the two areas.  Plus, her house was around its outskirts, so there wasn’t too much extra walking to do.

Orchid’s house was constructed back to back with several other houses, being near impossible to separate, and for that matter, distinguish.  But she knew it was hers, and she rushed over to it, loudly knocking at the door.  It didn’t take long for someone to come to her.

“Orchid!  There you are, sweetie!  Oh, wherever have you been?”  The woman in front of Orchid, who went by the name of Laelia, almost resembled a larger version of her.  Their fur was nearly the same shade of slate gray, and their eyes were the same bright orange.  Really, the only difference was how the woman’s eye markings were a slightly lighter shade.

“Mom, don’t worry, I’m fine!” Orchid laughed.  That mysterious baby creature she found earlier was still nuzzled against her belly, hidden under her paws.

“Oh, sweetheart, you need to get dry.”  Laelia grabbed Orchid by the paw, taking her by surprise.  With all the dexterity she could muster, she grasped the baby reptile with her free paw as her mother dragged her to the bathroom.  “Here, dry yourself.” Laelia said as she draped a dull green towel over Orchid’s back.  “You’ve had a long day, I can tell.”  She patted her daughter’s head, taking notice of how she was hiding something in her paws.  “Looks like you found something?”

“Uh… yeah, that!”  Orchid briefly started to panic, just now realizing that her mother might not be happy about how she brought a random baby animal home.  “Well… I do probably need to go to sleep… it’s gotta be late!”  She was aware about how exaggerated she likely sounded, even if she was partially being honest.  “So… goodnight!”  She slowly walked out, noticing Laelia’s confused expression.

A few steps away was Orchid’s bedroom, a cozy spot, if a bit cramped.  She opened up her paws to let the little creature observe its new surroundings, the scattered bits of dust spread across the room, the walls which were a color somewhere in between brown and red, the wooden nightstand carrying an inactive lamp and a book borrowed from a local library, and the unmade bed by the window.

“What do you think?” Orchid softly asked the little one, as if it could understand what she was saying.  It gave a chirp, which Orchid would interpret as a yes.  She walked over to her bed, setting down the creature on the nightstand (which it protested, of course) before hastily setting down her blankets.  She plopped down in it, only to see the little creature had somehow jumped on her bed beside her and was now nuzzling her belly.

“Aw, did you miss me?” Orchid chuckled.  It reminded her of how some baby animals would follow the first living being they see, also known as… was it ‘imprinting’?  Whatever, it was clear that this little one was doing that with her.  She started to doubt herself somewhat, with worries of her parents finding out and forcing her to abandon it.

But those kinds of thoughts wouldn’t help her sleep.  She had a long day, and she needed a good rest.  Plus, starting tomorrow, she’d have to start learning how to raise a reptile.  So she closed the curtain by her window, and fell onto her side, with the little one starting to doze off itself.

“Goodnight, little one…”

~

Orchid rarely dreamt all that much, and when she did, her dreams were difficult to understand and easily forgotten by the next morning.  But this night was different.

She stood in a gray field circled by… smoke?  Mist?  It was near impossible to tell.  All she was sure of was that this environment made her feel uneasy, and that it almost felt real.  All of a sudden, a pair of glowing yellow eyes pierced through the darkness of the cloudy surroundings from in front of Orchid, soon followed by a silhouette which drew closer to Orchid.

When the being escaped the shroud, Orchid noted they looked a lot like an adult version of the little one she had found.  They stood in a bipedal position, with stubby legs just the right size to carry their body.  Around their neck was a mane of black fur (or something resembling fur, considering the being was reptilian), which continued up to their head to form a little tuft.  Their head had more of the ear-horns, five pairs to be exact.  At their sides were what seemed to be a pair of folded wings.

“Hello, Orchid.” spoke the being with a deep yet feminine voice with an echo to it.  Orchid jolted with shock to find the being was standing right in front of her, and they were taller than the largest of Waddle Dees.  “My name is Kaina…  I wanted to thank you for rescuing my child.  I was worried of their fate following my death.”

“Um, you’re welcome?”  About a hundred thoughts were racing through Orchid’s mind.  This was the mother of that little creature I found?  How am I talking to them when they’re dead?  Apparently the little creature is sapient?  Is this really happening?  Am I going insane?

“I know this won’t always be an easy task.”  Kaina placed a paw on Orchid’s head in comfort.  “But please… take care of Magolor, alright?”  And with that, she faded into the fog once more, and so did Orchid’s dream fade into darkness.

~

He blinked open his eyes as light started to sneak into the room.  His ‘mother’ was still asleep, and he nudged at her a bit before realizing she was still resting.  He slithered around a bit before a new smell wafted past his nostrils.  With that smell, he realized he was feeling something he hadn’t experienced yet in his new life; hunger.

So he followed the scent to find it came from the foot of the bed, and there he found its source was a little bug, with fluffy brown wings.  He slowly approached it, attempting to be stealthy, before he pounced.

Unfortunately, this ended with the bug fluttering away and him tumbling off the end of the bed.  His fall was cushioned by a loose blanket, so he wasn’t injured.  Still, he was disoriented, and it took him a bit to adjust himself.  Now he was stressed.  He couldn’t get back up to his ‘mother’, and he was still hungry.  He sniffed again, to find another scent…

~

Orchid woke up in a delirious state of mind.  She just lay down, thinking about that bizarre dream.  She couldn’t have been visited by that little one’s dead mother, right?  But there was an element of lucidity to it that was uncommon…  Apparently, that ‘Kaina’ referred to the little one by ‘Magolor’?  She hadn’t thought of a name yet, so she assumed that’s what Kaina wanted to name them?

Agh, this was a bad way to wake up.  It became even worse when Orchid snapped back to reality and realized that ‘Magolor’ wasn’t next to her, or anywhere in the room for that matter.

“...Magolor?  MAGOLOR?” Orchid cried, almost without knowing what she was saying.  Oh no, Kaina’s probably so angry at me for this, if she really exists…  Her heart was quickly beating, and she jolted out of bed, rushing out of her room the second she opened the door.  What if they’re hurt, or worse…

Orchid didn’t even notice when she dashed right past her own mother, who was very confused indeed.  She started to cool down once she got into the kitchen, and tried to see if she could spot the little one anywhere.  They couldn’t have jumped on the table or counter, they were far too small for that.  So they had to be somewhere on the floor…

Ah!  Right in a particularly dusty corner, there they were.  They seemed to be eating a stray ant they had caught.  While it was a gross sight, Orchid was still relieved that nothing bad happened to them, and went right over to them to pick them up.

“There you are!”  She gently squeezed them close to her cheek, not wanting to let them go.  They seemed to be happy to see her too, nuzzling against her and joyfully chirping.  “I’ll just-”

“Oh, you were trying to catch that lizard!”  Orchid jolted.  Laelia had seen her with the little one, and she likely wouldn't be happy with it.

“Um, yeah!”  Okay, you can play along with the thing about trying to catch the lizard…  “I’ll just take Magolor outside…”

“...Magolor?  You named it?”

OH CRUD.  Orchid’s panic welled up again.  That was it, her mom was probably really gonna be upset…  “I-i’m sorry, I found them alone, their mother was dead, I couldn’t leave them there…”  She doubted this would assuage Laelia much.

“Sweetheart…”  Orchid could barely bring herself to look directly at her mother with tear-filled eyes.  “It’s okay.  I’m not mad.  You can keep it.”

It took a few seconds for Orchid to register that in her mind.  “I… I can?”

“Yes.”  Laelia’s eyes softened as she hugged her daughter.  “This is… a little unexpected, but I’ll do my best to help you with this.”

Orchid started to figuratively glow with relief and joy.  “Thank you, mom…”

[kevkage-blog]

naruto couple event 2018

day 2: role switch

[watchmegetobsessed]

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part Six (Harry Styles)

a/n: LAST PART OMG!! im a little emotional this story has come to its end but it already ended up like twice as long as i planned it to be haha! thank you so much for reading and loving the story, it means so much to me and i loved seeing your reactions as the plot developped! i hope you guys will be happy with the ending our pair got and i can’t wait to read your thoughts about the series as a whole!!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce, sexual content

word count: 14.8k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

Waking up next to Harry is probably your most favorite thing in the entire world right now and you’ve been able to experience it every morning since you dropped Izzy off at Anne’s. You’re missing her like crazy and can’t wait to have her back, but part of you is desperate to stretch these days as long as possible, because you’re not sure if Harry will be comfortable with you sleeping in his room once his little one is back under the roof.

It’s always the same, yet you can’t get enough of it. Harry grumbles as he turns the alarm off, snuggles back to you for just a few minutes before he forces himself to take a shower. In the meantime you start breakfast and his coffee waits for him ready by the time he joins you in the kitchen. You eat together, sometimes talking, sometimes just silently enjoying each other’s presence and it’s the perfect way to start your days.

Then Harry is off to work and you go for whatever shooting you had planned for the day. Luckily, you’ve been keeping yourself busy. If your day ended early, you always found something else to do, you picked Trevor up another time and also managed to have lunch with Harry on Thursday which was such a nice change, even if it was just eating takeout in his office because you were in the neighborhood and he had some time to see you.

Now it’s Friday and you’re spending it with some editing and eventually packing, since you’re leaving to the countryside for Sarah and Mitch’s wedding when Harry comes home. You’ve been looking forward to this weekend all week, you had a few phone calls with Sarah and the two of you hit it off quite well, you can’t wait to finally attend the wedding. And also because Harry is coming with you, so it’ll be a kind of weekend getaway even though the two of you have been alone home all week.

Harry runs a little late from work so you leave about an hour later than you planned, but it’s all good, since nothing is planned for the evening, you just wanted to be at the location on time. It’s going to be a small wedding, nothing extra and it’s held in an inn near the beach, the perfect spot in your opinion, especially because even the weather seems to be celebration the occasion and it won’t be raining cats and dogs.

Heather: A double date? I don’t know, who’s the guy?

You’re texting Heather in the car and you finally bring up the possibility of going on a double date with Niall.

Y/N: Photo attachment

Y/N: He is a cool guy, I think you would like him!

Heather: He surely is hot! Alright, we’ll see. Anyway, have fun with your super hot and rich boyfriend this weekend! Tell me all about the wedding next week!

Y/N: Thanks!

Your eyes scan over the word boyfriend. You didn’t want to correct her and tell her that you are not boyfriend and girlfriend, just dating, because you kind of enjoy the thought of being an official item. It’s been just a few weeks since it all started and you know that Harry needs to take things in his own pace, but that doesn’t mean you don’t like to play with the thought.

You’re aching to finally call him your boyfriend or what’s better, hear him call you his girlfriend. The thought of calling this man yours is making you go nuts but you need to be patient with him. He has gone through so much change lately, you can’t let your silliness ruin it for the both of you.

It’s late by the time you arrive to the Inn and you both feel exhausted from the ride so you want nothing else than to get a good night sleep before the wedding tomorrow.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Sarah greets the two of you when you walk into the Inn. She envelopes you in a warm hug before doing the same with Harry. IN the meanwhile, Mitch has also appeared and he greets you with a short hug as well before giving a brotherly hug to Harry. “Had a safe ride?”

“Yeah, everything went fine,” you nod smiling.

“Great. Well, here is your room key, made sure you two are getting one of the larger rooms,” Sara smiles slyly, but you’re taken aback by something else.

“We’re sharing a room?” you ask turning to Harry, who seems nervous about your question, though it wasn’t your intention to make him ashamed in any kind of way.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, Sarah asked me this week which room I want and I told her we would be sharing… Is that okay? We-we could ask for a room for you as well if y—“ “Harry,” you chuckles softly, giving his hand a squeeze. “I would love to share, I just wasn’t expecting you to want to do the same is all,” you tell him and you can see the relief in his eyes instantly.

You talk over a few things with Sarah before taking your stuff up to the room and calling it a night. Harry takes a shower first in the small bathroom that’s joined to your room and in the meantime you hang your dress up so it doesn’t get too wrinkly by the morning. Then you just get all your equipment done, making sure everything is full and loaded for the big day tomorrow. When Harry is done you take your turn and the hot shower feels nice, quite relaxing. Walking out you find Harry lying in bed, typing on his phone, he smiles up at you when you join him in bed.

“My mum sent me this. They went to the park today.” He turns the screen towards you and a photo of Izzy is shown with ice-cream all over her face, grinning happily into the camera.

“She could literally live on ice-cream,” you chuckle, making yourself comfortable under the sheets.

“And gummy bears,” Harry chuckles before locking his phone and putting it to the side table. He is quick to wrap his arms around you, pulling you against his side and you smile as you snuggle to him, enjoying the heat of his body. “Good night, love,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Good night, H,” you softly reply before letting yourself drift to sleep within seconds.

You already have a lot of experience with weddings and no matter how big or small it is, the day is always a little bit chaotic, everyone is all over the place, there’s no time for just messing around, especially for you.

Following a nice breakfast with Harry on the tiny balcony that’s connected to your room, you are forced to part since Harry is supposed to be with all the other guys, getting ready in the room that’s reserved for Mitch, while you kind of need to be everywhere at the same time, but you obviously spend the most time with Sarah, wanting to capture all her best moments.

Sometime around noon you get about an hour off while everyone else is getting lunch and Harry texts you to join him on the mole down the beach that runs just below the inn. When you arrive he is already sitting on one of the old wood benches with a pizza box on his lap.

“Hey,” you smile softly and leaning down you peck his lips quickly before joining him on the bench.

“The boy ordered pizza and I got one for us too, hope it’s okay.”

“Of course, I didn’t even think about lunch until you texted,” you chuckle as he settles the box between the two of you and you both take a slice.

“So how are the photos coming up so far?”

“Good, I’ll have a ton of editing to do, but I think they will like the outcome.”

“Can I have a sneak peek of them?” he smirks playfully, but you shake your head.

“No, the first ones to see them will be Sarah and Mitch, sorry,” you chuckle as he pouts his lips at you, but goes back to his slice right after.

You both are just enjoying the quiet for a little, having had a busy day so far, exchanging very few words, but it’s still a nice time spent together. It is just the two of you until a guy approaches you on the mole.

“Hey guys! Mitch wondered where you went, H,” he smirks down at Harry before his eyes land on you. He is tall, but not as tall as Harry, rocking a noticeable beard and he is wearing the same outfit as Harry: maroon pants with a crispy white dress shirt. “Oh, you’re the photographer, right?” he smiles at you.

“Yeah, I’m Y/N,” you answer nicely, holding out a hand for him.

“I’m Landon, Mitch’s cousin,” he nods with a charming smile. “Sorry for interrupting your lunch guys. Just wanted to let you know that Mitch wants to do a round of shots when everyone’s back,” he chuckles.

“He is gonna be so hammered,” Harry chuckles shaking his head. “I’ll be back soon, thanks Landon.”

“No worries. I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he smiles at you before turning around and walking back to the inn. You catch Harry’s eyes for a moment and you have a guess what he is thinking about. Landon seemed to like you, with his flirty smiles and friendly introduction, he was surely thinking about shooting his shot, but he might not know that you’re dating Harry.

However he doesn’t say anything, just continues to eat his lunch in silence and quite frankly, you forget about Landon’s existence pretty fast.

After lunch it gets a bit hectic. The ceremony is starting at 3, so you don’t have much time left. You do the first look reveal thing and this time their son, James is included in it, which is honestly such a pure moment and capturing it feels like a privilege.

Soon enough the guests are starting to arrive and you quickly run up to the room to change into your dress. Most of the time you are not required to dress up for the job, but you like to blend into the crowd so you usually choose to wear a nice dress and you’re doing the same this time as well. You’ve brought a pastel yellow satin dress that teases a little cleavage, and you pair it with a cream colored cardigan, creating a simple but still elegant look for the rest of the day. You’re fixing your makeup in a hurry when the door opens and Harry walks in.

He immediately stops in his tracks upon seeing you in front of the mirror, his eyes traveling down the lengths of your body, a stunned expression adorning his handsome features.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were… in here,” he mumbles and you can see the blush forming on his cheeks. “You look… You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you chuckle softly. He takes a few steps closer to you and reaching up he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers leaving a trail of delicate touch on the side of your face.

Leaning down his lips hover over yours for a moment, as if he was giving you the chance to pull back, but who are you to deny anything from Harry Styles? So when you stay in place, he finally presses his lips to yours in a slow and tender kiss filled with passion. His hands cup your face in his and you bring yours up to wrap around his wrists as you kiss him back, already craving more than just a kiss.

But it feels like you are not the only one growing hungrier with the seconds, one of Harry’s hands wander down to your butt and you feel his palm’s warmth through the thin layer of your dress, though you wish there was nothing between his skin and yours. When he starts kissing down your jawline and neck, pushing you backwards you hate to break the moment, but there’s no time for any funny business. So painfully, but you pull back, already missing his lips on yours.

“I would really love to continue this, but I need to be with Sarah in about three minutes,” you chuckle softly.

“Yeah, I need to get back to Mitch too,” he sighs, pecking the corner of your mouth before his arms fall from around you.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” you smile up at him, fixing the collar of his shirt.

“Yeah,” he smiles with a boyish smile before you part ways again.

All through the ceremony you are kind of all over the place, trying to get the best shots, you don’t have much time to spare. Sarah’s entrance with her dad and James walking down the aisle is so beautiful and you get some amazing shots of Mitch’s emotions upon seeing his future wife. They tell their vows, touching every guest with their sweet words to each other and then they finally say ‘I do’ and become husband and wife.

You snap a series of photos of that moment as well, but then you allow yourself to peek over at Harry who is already watching you with a soft smile. You can feel yourself blushing, his gaze is warm but also quite intimidating in this sentimental moment.

And then the party finally starts. You try to follow the newly weds around as much as possible, but you also get around the tent, shooting pictures of the guests as well. You only get to have a few moments with Harry, because either you need to rush off or sometimes someone finds him and wants to have a few words. He is quite popular among the guests, but it’s no surprise. You’d want to have the chance to talk to him too if you saw him.

“Have you even had a bite yet?” A male voice calls out for you when you’re trying to sneak from one point to the other. Glancing over your shoulder you see Landon with a drink in his hand.

“I’ll eat later. The dance is about to happen so I need to be ready for that,” you smile at him.

“Mitch told me they found a really good photographer, but he surely forgot to mention how devoted you are. I’m excited to see the photos.”

“Thanks, I’m trying my best,” you chuckle.

“Save me a dance later?”

“Oh, um, sure,” you nod with a nervous chuckle. “But I really gotta go now,” you excuse yourself before he could even get another word out.

As you slalom between the tables you spot Harry sitting at one of them and he is staring at Landon from across the room, a not too friendly look plastered across his face. You wonder if he has seen you talking to him and now he is feeling jealous or if you’re just seeing things. But you don’t have much time to ponder on it, work is calling you.

As the happy couple share their first dance, soon enough more and more guests join them and you’re standing at the side, snapping the cute dance partners slow dancing to the music with Sarah and Mitch in the middle. You’re adjusting the settings on your camera, when a tall figure appears in front of you.

“May I have a dance?” Harry asks, holding out a hand for you like a true gentleman.

“Oh, I should—“

“If you are about to say you should be taking pictures, the bride told me to ask you,” he tells you with a soft chuckle and as your eyes fall on Sarah, she is smiling in your way happily, nodding her approval to get off duty for just a little.

“Then, I would love to,” you smile shyly, taking Harry’s hand as he takes you to the dance floor. Placing his hands to your waist he pulls you close to him while you rest your arms around his neck, swaying to the rhythm very gently.

“I always get a little emotional at weddings,” he confesses with a small smile.

“Yeah? Why?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I just… love seeing people in love. Especially when they are my friends,” he adds chuckling.

“It really is a nice thing.”

Harry pulls you tighter against him, his cheek pressing against the side of your head and you let your eyes fall closed for a few seconds, enjoying this moment with him. He starts to softly him the song and his voice flows through your ears smoothly, you’re in awe how good his voice is. He never told you he is a good singer too above being an amazing producer.

When the song ends some couples stay, but some make their way off the dance floor and you have to get back to your job as well. Leaning back you squeeze Harry’s arm as his hands fall from your frame too.

“Save a slice from the cake for me,” you smile at him and he nods with a smirk.

“I will. I’ll have it ready for you at the table.”

You place a short kiss to his cheek before you disappear from his sight, leaving him alone again.

The night carries on as usual, sometime after dinner your phone dies so you leave it on the charger up in your room before running back down. The party starts to unfold as the time passes, more drinks are being consumed and this is kind of your secret favorite part, because the more people drink, the more they are willing to pose for funny pictures. This is the time that births the best group photos, in your opinion.

Though you are having an amazing time, you can feel yourself growing tired. When it’s finally cake time you take some time off to sit with Harry who saved you a slice, just as you asked him. It’s nice to have a breather, just enjoy the evening with him by your side again.

“Mm, didn’t know you could eat icing without getting it all over my face,” you tease him, referring back to the time you made such a mess out of the kitchen when you tried to make cupcakes for him.

“Very funny,” he narrows his eyes at you, before dipping his finger into the icing and wiping it onto your nose.

“Hey!” you pout at him, cleaning it up, but he just smirks at you playfully before pecking your lips shortly. It’s the first time he is kissing you in with so many people around and it surely makes you giddy, knowing that he is not trying to hide you in any way.

Weddings are a lot of fun, but they always stretch so long. The party can last till the morning sometimes and you can’t just decide to call it a night and stop doing your job, you need to be there until the DJ shuts the music off and all guests disappear. And it seems like this wedding won’t be any shorter either.

It’s already past midnight when you decide to sneak out for a short break. You’ve been on your feet for way too long and you stole some food too. You hesitated if you should sit back to your table, but you felt like you could use some quiet so you left the tent and found a bench nearby.

As you sit and eat the food you snatched from the buffet table, you hope the party won’t last until the Sun comes up. You get so into your own little world that you almost don’t even notice the approaching tall figure.

“Having a break, huh?” Landon calls out as the gravel crunches under his fancy dress shoes.

“Ah, yeah. I needed a few minutes away from the music,” you chuckle softly. Landon stops in front of you and hides his hands in his pockets as he blinks down at you with tired looking eyes. It might be from the long night, but you are guessing the drinks he’s been consuming don’t help his energy either.

“May I say that you look really pretty? I haven’t been to many weddings yet, but the photographers went for the more comfortable look since they are not on the photos, but you chose to glam yourself.”

“Thanks,” you chuckle softly. “I like to blend into the guests.”

“Well, you don’t blend in this way either, because you look prettier than most women in that tent,” he compliments you and you’re starting to feel awkward. It’s not that you don’t like it when someone is talking highly of you, but it’s obvious what Landon wants and you are definitely not on the same page.

“Um, thank you.”

“I’m sorry if I come off too brash or pushy, but I promised myself I would never miss a chance to compliment a pretty woman when I see one.”

“That’s nice, but I’m afraid I’m not the right person to spend your energy on,” you answer with a tight-lipped smile. Landon narrows his eyes at you, but keeps his playful manner.

“So you don’t find me good-looking, is that it?” he teases and you shake your head with a soft chuckle.

“That’s not what I was talking about.”

“Then you like to break hearts, right? You must enjoy making men fall for you,” he carries on with his little joke and just as you’re about to speak up to tell him you are seeing someone, Harry’s familiar deep voice interrupts the conversation.

“There you are, I’ve been calling you.” He is talking to you, but his eyes are clearly glued to the man standing in front of you.

“Oh, my phone is in the room, I had to charge it,” you tell him.

“What are you guys doing out here?” he asks, clearly not liking the situation, you and Landon alone outside with no one else around. Jealousy is dripping from his eyes that appear so much darker now in the dim lighting.

“I’ve been dumped by this amazing woman right here,” Landon sighs dramatically and Harry cocks an eyebrow at him before glancing over at you.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, she is clearly not interested in me, my charm didn’t work on her,” he laughs lightheartedly.

“I hope it didn’t because she is my girlfriend,” Harry answers simply and your lips part at what he just called you.

Landon stumbles back, his smile quickly vanishes from his face as he stares back at Harry. You feel like you’re watching some kind of documentary movie where male animals are trying to win over the female, only that Landon stands no chance in this situation, but you find it quite funny.

“Man, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t—I didn’t know!” he apologizes right away as he realizes why Harry has been kind of spicy around him. Landon then faces you. “Y/N, I didn’t mean to make it awkward and all that, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you smile at him nicely. He mumbles something about checking up on Mitch before walking away, leaving you and Harry alone. He joins you on the bench, staring after Landon for a few moments before turning to face you. A much softer expression is showing on his face this time.

“So, you just called me your girlfriend,” you point out, trying your best to hold your growing smirk back.

“I, uhh—I did, didn’t I?” he chuckles nervously. “I’m sorry, it just slipped out, because I didn’t like how Landon was trying to chat you up all night…”

“So you didn’t…. You didn’t mean it?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows, feeling yourself growing disappointed.

“Well, I… I mean, I didn’t mean to say it like that, without discussing it with you, but… I would love to call you my girlfriend,” he admits shyly and you can’t believe that this nervous man next to you is the same man who owns a record label and manages his million dollars business every day without a problem.

“I like the sound of that,” you smirk, leaning closer to him so your noses are almost touching.

“Yeah?” he smiles, a lot more relieved and playfully than he was a moment ago.

“Mhm,” you nod, biting your lip. You blindly put your plate to the side before cupping his face in both of your hands and pulling him in for a kiss, your first one as boyfriend and girlfriend. Part of you feels silly that it makes you so ecstatic, like you’re a high school girl, but in this moment you couldn’t care less.

What starts as a sweet and innocent kiss quickly turns into something more, something heated. When Harry’s hands find your bare thighs and they slightly slide under your dress you can’t help but yearn for more, pulling him closer as your tongues meet. Your fingers lace through his curls, tugging on them gently and you’re fighting the urge to throw a leg over him and just sit on his lap straddling him. When he starts kissing down your jawline and neck, you have to stop him for the second time today, not that you wanted to do it anytime, but the time and place hasn’t been right.

“We can’t…” you sigh, pulling back even though every fiber in your body is telling you otherwise. Harry lets out a long sigh, nodding his head.

“Yeah, I know.”

“But hopefully, the party will end soon and then we will be all alone in our room,” you smirk at him slyly and it brings back the shine into his eyes.

“I can’t wait,” he mumbles before kissing you one last time.

From that moment, Harry lingers around you at all times for the rest of the night. He is always either right by your side, or within a few feet away from you, keeping an eye on you, but not in an obsessive and intrusive kind of way. His eyes are filled with lust every time you share a look at each other and you can tell he can’t wait for the party to finally be over. Whenever he is next to you, he makes sure to touch you in any kind of way. Placing his palm to the small of your back, your arm or your hips, or when you sit next to each other he rests his hand on your thigh or knee without hesitation. And you are loving all the affection you are being showered with.

By the time the wedding officially ends and you can finally call it a night, you are both touch starved and hungry for each other. Harry pulls you against him on the stairs up to your room, not even giving a damn that you are still out in the public. His mouth attacks you hungrily, kissing you anywhere he can reach as the two of you stumble up your way to the room.

Pushing the door open you basically fall inside, giggling against Harry’s lips as he shuts the door closed and presses you up against it, making you gasp at the action. He is so much more demanding and confident than the last time you shared an intimate moment and though you’re not sure how far he is planning to go, you know you are ready to give him anything he desires.

“As much as I love this dress on you, it needs to go,” he playfully smirks as his hands bunch your dress up on your thigh before grabbing it and pulling it off your body, leaving you only in your underwear so fast.

Your lips find his as your fingers work fast on the buttons of his shirt while you inch further into the room towards the bed. You both kick your shoes off on the way and when you fall to the mattress Harry’s shirt is already gone. He climbs above you as you sink into the way too many pillows and you blindly throw a few off the bed to give you more space. Harry licks into your mouth one last time before he moves down your neck and collarbones, peppering your heated skin with his kisses, his hands already sliding under your back to unclasp your bra. Arching your back you give him space to do the task on hand and a few moments later you are lying under him with your chest completely bare. His name falls from your lips as a whimper when his mouth comes in contact with your left nipple, kissing, licking and sucking on it while his hand kneads your other breast before he switches, giving both sides the same amount of attention. Your fingers lace through his unruly curls as you enjoy his touch that’s burning and soothing at the same time.

When he kisses down your stomach and hips, he hooks his fingers into your lacy underwear, but stop before doing anything, looking up at you for reassurance. You give him the green light by nodding and he carefully pulls the fabric off your body, baring you in front of his eyes completely. His kisses pepper his way up your inner thighs until he finally reaches your dripping wet core.

“Harry!” you moan when his tongue and lips press against your clit, swirling and sucking on it just right, making you shiver under his touch. He curls his arms around your legs, keeping them in place as he keeps working his magic, making you a whimpering mess with each lick.

He does the same thing as last time, teases you with his finger dancing around your entrance until you are basically ready to beg him for more. Then he finally pushes two fingers inside you and starts pumping in a slow pace that drives you nuts, leaving you ache for more of him.

You pull him up before he could get you to the top, because that’s not how you want it now and you need to know if he is ready to take this step with you. He understands what you want from just a look as he hovers above you and you cup his face in your hands tenderly.

“I want it,” he breathes out and you could come just from those three words.

“Are you sure?” you ask, though you just want to jump right at it already. Still, you want to make sure he is completely fine with everything that’s about to happen.

“Yeah. I am,” he nods before leaning down he presses his lips against yours.

Your hands reach down and undo his pants, pushing them down along with his boxers before he does the rest of the job kicking them off. His erection presses up against your thigh as his hips fall down a bit and you moan with just the feeling of him on your skin. Wrapping your hands around his shaft you start pumping him while your kiss never breaks.

“Oh fuck,” he moans in sensation and you grin against his lips, enjoying the thought that you are the one making him feel this good.

“Do you have a condom?” you breathe out.”

“Shit, I don’t…”

“It’s alright, I have one.” You sneak out from under him and rush over to your bag to look for your toiletries, you know you have one somewhere in there. When you finally find the little package you quickly get back to the bed where Harry is now lying on his back. Kneeling next to him you give him a soft, reassuring look.

“Do you want me to…?” you imply, holding up the foil.

“Oh, um, yeah, sure,” he nods and you swear you see him blushing. Ripping the package open you lean closer and roll the condom down his hard length before throwing a leg over his lap and get back to kissing him. You take your time with him, running your hands up and down his toned, inked chest as his palms warm the skin on your waist while your lips move together in sync perfectly. You could tell he needed a moment to get settled and wrap his mind around what’s really about to happen.

“Everything alright?” you ask, a little out of breath as you hold yourself up above him. He nods shortly. “Do you want me on top or you want to switch?”

“C-can you stay on top for now?”

“Yeah,” you smile at him warmly, before capturing his lips in a sweet kiss while your right hand wanders down his body until you reach his hard cock. Harry whimpers against your lips when you wrap your hand around the base, lining him up with yourself.

“Tell me if you want to stop, alright?” you ask him and in any other situation you’d find it a little funny that it’s you asking him that, usually this request comes from the guy, but you just want to make sure he is comfortable with everything that’s happening. Harry nods again and as he gulps hard his Adam’s apple bops up and down. Leaning down you kiss him again as you slowly ease down yourself just enough so that the head of his cock slides inside you. You stop, giving both him and you the chance to get accustomed to the feeling. It’s been quite some time for you as well, and your fingers do not compare to Harry’s size, that’s for sure.

He keeps one hand on your hip while the other reaches up and cups the side of your head, panting against your lips from the feeling of finally being inside you. Once you’ve made sure you both adjusted to the feeling, you allow yourself to sink further down until his whole length disappears inside you. You stay still, shutting your eyes closed as you let your walls stretch around his erection, making that slight pain you feel go away. Adding the length and thickness of his cock to the long drought you’ve had in the field of sex is making it feel like you are having your first time again in a way. It’s not that awkward and definitely not that painful, but still, that’s what it reminds you of.

“Are you good?” he asks, squeezing your hip gently. Your eyes snap open and meet his green ones that are now clouded with a little bit of worry.

“Yeah, it’s just… You’re big, Harry,” you admit with a soft chuckle that brings a cocky grin to his lips as well. “Just give me a moment.”

He just nods again and both his hands start running up and down your sides reassuringly as you take a few seconds to yourself before you start moving your hips. You start off slowly, dragging your movements out, trying to see what feels the best and judging from Harry’s moans and grunts he is enjoying himself no matter what you do. Your hands sprawl out on his chest, fingers digging into his skin as you lean onto him while starting to move up and down his throbbing cock.

“Fuck, you feel so good!” he whimpers, almost as if he was in pain, but you can see the pleasure in his eyes.

Your thighs start to burn, but you keep moving yourself, not wanting to stop, because you’re feeling your orgasm building up inside you. When he starts thrusting up to meet your movements, you moan his name so loudly there’s a chance the people next door heard you, but you couldn’t care about that now.

Harry might have noticed that you’re starting to get tired, so pushing himself up he wraps his arms around you and turns you over until you’re the one lying on the bed and he holds himself up above you on his arms. Your legs circle around his waist as he starts moving in and out of you, the new position making you both moan and gasp at the sensation.

“Harry!” you whine as he keeps hitting that one spot inside you, pushing you closer to the edge dangerously fast.

“Am I making you feel good, baby? You like it?”

“You’re making me feel so good, please don’t stop!” you beg him as he buries his face in your neck, sucking on the soft skin, most definitely leaving a mark on you that you’ll wear proudly tomorrow. You would never want to hide the fact how good Harry fucked you, let the world know that your boyfriend made you feel so amazing!

“Oh my God, I’m getting close. Are you feeling it too? Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” he asks, his lips brushing against your earlobe. Grabbing his face you pull him into a kiss, pushing your tongue into his mouth mercilessly and the grunt he lets out is making your insides tremble. It’s animalistic, so passionate and sexual, you want to hear this every day for the rest of your life.

“I’m close, go a little harder, Harry!” you plead and he does as you asked without hesitation, his hips slamming harder against you, making you gasp for air as your head sinks into the pillow, your back arching in pleasure.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Let it go!”

“Harry!” you whine, as you can feel your orgasm threatening to burst inside you any moment.

“Say my name when you cum, I want to hear who’s making you feel so good, baby!”

Your fingers dig into his hair as you chant his name over and over again with each thrust he makes and then your release finally arrives. You moan and whimper, shaking under his naked, sweaty body, his name falling from your lips as an endless glorification. Your walls clench around his cock and it’s the last straw for him as well, his thrusts become sloppy and uncoordinated as he cries out your name, his hips slamming hard against you while he rides his orgasm out. Reaching down you drag your nails down his back until you reach his perfectly round ass, giving it a cheeky squeeze while he buries his head into the crook of your neck, thrusting into you a few more times before coming to a stop.

Turning your head you kiss his temple, running your hands up and down his back while you both try to catch your breath, coming off your high. Soon Harry pulls out and rolls off of you, his body smashing into the mattress beside you, his face glowing from that post sex euphoria. After a few moments of just panting and blinking into the void you finally feel yourself returning to reality and rolling to your side you cuddle to Harry’s body, his arm instantly coming to circle around you.

“Everything alright?” you softly ask, placing a tender kiss to his chest under one of his swallow tattoos. The last thing you want is to have him freak out now that the deed has been done, but when he gifts you with a tired but genuine smile, your worries vanish into thin air.

“Yeah. I’m all good. More than good,” he chuckles before lifting his head and placing a soft kiss to your forehead. His fingers are dancing up and down your naked back, following the line of your spine and your ribs, his smoothing touch already working as a lullaby on you, but you’re determined to stay awake just a little longer.

“Are you turned on by hearing your own name during sex?” you tease him with a sly smile as you think back to how much he enjoyed you scream his name over and over again.

“I might have a bit of a praise kink,” he admits truthfully with a smirk.

“Mm, interesting.”

“What’s yours?”

“What do you like during sex?”

“You, balls deep inside me,” you bluntly answer, making him laugh at your words. “And I like doggy,” you then add to actually answer his question.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, and maybe some hair pulling. Not in an extreme way, but I like a little.” “Alright, noted,” he hums nodding.

You both clean yourselves up in the bathroom, moving around each other naked without any shame. Harry then puts on a pair of clean boxers and you change into your night clothes, though the moment you make yourself comfortable in Harry’s arms in bed his hand sneaks up your back under the shirt, tugging the material up. You could have just stayed shirtless, but now you’re too tired to even move. His fingers are drawing little patterns over your skin as you listen to his steady breathing before drifting off to sleep.

Sunday feels like a day after a sleepover in high school, when you’re thinking about everything that has happened the day before, and you’re so happy it happened but you’re kind of tired and just want the comfort of your home already.

Sarah and Mitch leave for their honeymoon early in the morning. You say goodbye and Sarah just keeps thanking you for your work even though she hasn’t even seen the picture yet.

“But I’m sure they are amazing! Can’t wait to see them!” she beams at you when you try to tell her to just wait for the actual outcome.

You leave the inn a little before noon heading to Anne’s to pick Izzy up. You have lunch somewhere on the road and then you sing along to the music in the car, enjoying yet another roadtrip together, making the best out of your last minutes alone. You’re happy to see that Harry hasn’t seemed to spiral after what happened last night, he seems delighted and pleased, maybe even excited. Driving down the highway he keeps a hand on your thigh whenever he doesn’t need to use it on the shifting gear and every time he reaches for you, it turns you into a giddy little girl.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Izzy chants upon running into Harry’s arms the moment you park down on Anne’s driveway. Apparently, she’s been sitting by the window for an hour, waiting for her dad to finally arrive.

“Oh, I missed you so much, baby!” Harry cheers, catching the running girl and lifting her up into his arms, hugging her close. It’s such a sweet sight, seeing the two purest people you know be so happy to see each other after a week spent apart.

“I missed you too!” Izzy sighs, wrapping her short arms around Harry’s neck, nuzzling into her daddy’s embrace and your heart is fluttering in your chest for sure.

Anne invites the two of you inside for a tea, Harry helps Izzy pack all her stuff while she is nonstop blabbering about everything she did with her grandma during the week, and Harry listens to her intently, even though she already shared everything with him on the phone when he called every night.

“How did the wedding go?” Anne asks you cheerfully as you help her in the kitchen.

“Oh, it was amazing! Sarah looked so beautiful and everything went smoothly.”

“That’s great, they are such a cute couple!”

Anne is quick to ask you about photography, how long you’ve been doing it and you even show her a few of your works seeing how enthusiastic she is about the whole thing. You were a little nervous about meeting her, but she is just as sweet and kind as her son, making it so easy to treat her just as a friend, not as the mother of your boyfriend.

Before leaving Izzy insists on showing you all the paintings she made for Anne this week, she has them on the wall in her little home office. While you’re shown around in Izzy’s personal gallery, Harry joins his mother downstairs, finishing up his tea.

“I assume the weekend went well, you two are glowing,” she smiles slyly at him and Harry can’t hide his boyish smile.

“I uhh… I asked her to be my girlfriend,” he admits and Anne gasps happily, thrilled about the news.

“I’m so happy for you, Har. I think she is a really good match for you!” she beams, pulling him into a motherly hug, kissing his cheek as if he was just a little boy, not a grown man.

“Thanks, mum. I’m happy too.” “You deserve it. It’s so good to see you living your life again.” Soon enough, Harry loads the car with Izzy’s stuff and it’s time to say goodbye.

“Bye Anne, it was so nice to see you!” you smile hugging her.

“Come back soon, Darling! Nag this old man to visit me more often!” Anne jokes giving Harry a playful look who leaves her comment unnoticed, giving his mother a tight hug.

“Thank you for everything mum, love you, I’ll call you alright?”

“Drive safe!” she calls after you all as you get into the car and wave her goodbye leaving.

The drive home tired Izzy out, or maybe it’s just the change of settings again. Whatever it is, she can barely stay awake until dinner, so once her tummy is filled Harry decides to put her to sleep early.

Izzy asks Harry to lie in bed with her as he reads her a bedtime story, she is extra clingy now that she is back with her daddy, but Harry is enjoying having his little one back so he doesn’t mind it. Izzy snuggles to his side, playing with the ears of the bunny she chose to sleep with tonight as she listens to his steady, smooth voice talk her to sleep.

“Daddy?” she asks quietly, already half asleep.

“Yes, baby?”

“Are you going to marry Y/N?”

The question catches him off-guard, he was definitely not expecting it especially since Izzy hasn’t even seen the two of you kiss yet.

“Why are you asking?”

“My new friend, Loretta from the park told me that if a boy and a girl live together they are probably in love and want to get married.”

“Loretta seems to know a lot about adult stuff,” Harry chuckles softly. “Well, it doesn’t exactly work like that, Iz. But… would you be happy if I told you Y/N is now my girlfriend?” he asks, feeling a little nervous, as if Izzy’s word on the question could destroy any possible future between the two of you. She stays silent for a few seconds and Harry starts to think she has fallen asleep, but then she finally speaks up again.

“Did you kiss her?” she asks and Harry can’t push down a soft chuckle. Izzy’s idea of relationships probably doesn’t go further than kissing and holding hands so this is how she is trying to put the picture together in her head.

“I did, yes.”

“Oh!” she exclaims. “I like Y/N.”

“Well, I like her too.”

“She can be your girlfriend,” she then replies, giving her blessing. “Are you going to get married?”

“Um, not for a while, no. But… it could happen if things go right,” he chews on his bottom lip, he is definitely not in the phase of thinking about marriage yet, not just because you barely just became an official couple, but that would be a huge step in his way of processing the end of his last one.

“Okay,” Izzy simply nods and that brings the end of the discussion. Harry has been a little nervous to have this talk with Izzy, he was afraid she might get a little confused about the idea of him having a girlfriend and the thought of her mother, but she seemingly didn’t even bring Maggie into her train of thoughts. Luckily.

When Izzy is finally asleep he closes the door and makes his way downstairs where you’re lying on the couch, watching the rerun of the news. You smile up at him upon his arrival and as he joins you on the couch, he is quick to pull you into his arms, making you snuggle into his embrace.

“I just told Izzy that you are my girlfriend,” he confesses and you lift your head up, not even trying to hide your surprised expression.

“Really? And what did she say?”

“Well, she asked if we are getting married,” he tells you chuckling shortly. “I told her that we shouldn’t get that far ahead. But she basically gave her blessing. She said she likes you.”

“Well I was hoping she doesn’t hate my guts after spending almost every day with me,” you chuckle, making him smile too. “But I’m happy she likes the idea of us.”

“Yeah, me too,” Harry nods before pulling you closer for a sweet, innocent kiss.

You finally get around to have that double date with Heather and Niall one month into your relationship. Harry’s weekends have been a little busy these past weeks, he had to go into the office on a few Saturdays, but now he has finally finished a huge project he has been working on so he can actually take some time off.

Ruth comes over to look after Izzy that evening and she keeps looking at you and Harry like a proud grandparent whenever she sees the two of you interact as a couple. Little touches and kisses have been more regular around home ever since Harry told Izzy that you are together. So far, she’s been handling it really well, she doesn’t seem to be confused about you and her mother and it might be because Harry has had a talk with her recently about her mother and where she really is now. His therapist suggested to be open about it with her as early as possible, and though she doesn’t seem to completely understand the idea of life and death just yet, she has definitely started to put the picture together in her head.

You’ve been spending all your nights at Harry’s room, so by now your bedroom is more like an office space for you and a storage for all your stuff, a place where you can be alone whenever you have some editing to do or just simply need some time on your own. Luckily, Harry totally understands the feeling of needing some space, he has his own limits as well and the two of you have been trying your best to coordinate around these lines when it comes to your relationship. After all, it’s been a pretty unusual situation, you were already living together when you became a couple, jumping a few steps in the timeline of a regular relationship.

Just as you were expecting it, Niall and Heather hit it off quite fast upon meeting at the dinner. Niall is in awe of Heather’s confidence and raw sense of humor that matches perfectly with his, while Heather finds him entertaining and somewhat like a challenge, since you honestly told her about Niall’s reputation as a womanizer, but it’s not something that could scare her away.

“He is cute, desperately wants to prove how good he is doing on his own, but I think that’s just a façade,” Heather tells you when you ask her about her date in the restroom. She fixes up her lipstick, staring at herself in the floor to ceiling mirror.

“So you think you want to see him again?”

“I’m not gonna run after him, if he asks for my number I’ll give it to him. But if he doesn’t, I won’t let him see my disappointment.”

“And what if he asks you to go home with him tonight?” you ask, feeling like teenagers gossiping in the girls restroom between classes. Heather smirks at you through the mirror before turning to face you.

“Oh, I’m not going home with him. That would bruise his ego so badly he won’t be able to think about anything else.”

You stare back at her stunned from how big of a genius she is. You would have never schemed like this when it came to men, but yet again, you never really needed to. Before Harry you were busy with Keith and that relationship came so easily to you. There were never really games, it took you about three weeks to get together. But Heather is a player and a very good one, apparently.

“You two look cute, by the way,” she smiles at you quickly washing her hands before the two of you head out, back to the table.

“Thanks,” you blush, eyes finding the guys sitting right where you left them.

After dinner you decide to stay for a few drinks at the bar a corner away and it’s been so long since the last time you were out just having fun, enjoying some time with good friends. If someone told you a few months ago that you’d be sitting here, sipping on a cocktail with Harry who is now your boyfriend, you would have laughed hysterically.

When Harry reaches for you thigh under the table, resting his palm on it, giving it a gentle squeeze just as a sweet gesture, you glance at him and he smiles at you as his eyes meet your gaze. It’s the first time you actually feel like any other couples. Having a nice evening with your friends, touching each other, holding hands, simply living in the moment knowing well that going home he will probably sneak into Izzy’s room, pressing a kiss to her forehead before joining you in bed, falling asleep with his arms curled around your figure.

It’s no surprise when Niall invited Heather over his place for another drink at the end of the night and you can barely hold your smirk back when she refuses and his face completely falls, especially because he was so confident in himself, the evening went well and he was probably sure she would say yes. Instead, she grabs herself a taxi and heads home upon parting ways. Niall is shocked, but he is quick to ask for Heather’s number from you before you say goodbye and you happily give it to him.

On the way home you think about how weird it is that you are still basically working for him. It’s not that you mind being the one who is looking after Izzy, it doesn’t even feel like a job, she has grown so close to you. It’s about getting paid for it when you’re Harry’s girlfriend and even though you know how untraditional everything has been with the two of you, now might be the time to make a change.

Harry checks up on Izzy while you get ready to bed and he joins you under the covers soon. Your thoughts about your possible quitting keep racing in your head and you decide to bring it up, just to see how he sees the situation.

“H?” you softly ask while he is checking a few things on his phone, propped up against the headboard.

“Yeah?” he glances at you, letting you know he is listening.

“Don’t you think it’s weird I’m still working for you?”

He stops and locking his phone he puts it to the nightstand to fully focus on the conversation. He just stares at you for a few seconds before knitting his eyebrows together, that crease between them making an appearance and you fight the urge to smooth it out with your finger.

“You don’t like taking care of her anymore?” Your stomach drops at the way he interpreted your question, because it’s not at all the situation.

“Harry, I love taking care of her!” you smile at him softly and can see the relief in his eyes. “It’s just a little weird that you’re paying me to be with her. I would do it for free,” you explain, hoping he now gets the whole picture.

“Oh!”

“Are you… Are you planning for the long run? With us?”

“Of course,” he nods and now you’re the one relieved at how naturally the answer came to him.

“Then maybe we should look for a solution that doesn’t make me feel like I’m a kept house woman,” you chuckle softly and a small smile tugs on his lips as well.

“What were you thinking about?” Sighing you bite into your bottom lip, not sure what he’ll think about the idea that came to you.

“I’ve been getting a lot of requests for photoshoots. I thought that maybe I could take two more days out of the week to work on them and stay home with Izzy for the rest of them. We could look for a nanny for those days. They wouldn’t have to move in, because I would be home by three probably. I think… I think it could work pretty well.”

Harry takes a few moments to think it through and you know he has to be considerate, the only reason he was so quick to hire you was because Izzy already knew and loved you. Bringing a stranger into the picture is a big change and everyone has to be fine with it to make it work.

“Would that make you happy? Staying home for half of the week with Izzy? I wouldn’t want to ask you to sacrifice your time for her… for us, if it doesn’t benefit you.”

For a few moments you’re just processing his words, but then you finally understand what he meant by that. He is thinking you might take it as if he is using you to take care of his daughter and he doesn’t want you to take responsibility for her if it’s not what you really want. But you see being in Izzy’s life as a privilege, you haven’t truly processed it yourself, but you start to look at her as your own daughter. Having spent the majority of your days with her these past months, it was inevitable to grow so fond of her.

Scooting closer to him you cup his face in your hands as you smile down at him softly, his green irises filled with worry and doubts, probably thinking that he is doing something wrong again, but he is not. He needs to have more trust in himself.

“I would love it, Harry. I love spending time with her and… with you,” you admit and there’s one thing that you’re aching to add.

And I love you.

But you keep that one back, not sure if he is ready to hear it just yet. It’s still so early in your relationship, and it might feel like a bomb if you just dropped it on him. You need to be a little more patient before taking this next step.

Bringing his arms around you he pulls you to his chest, a deep but happy sigh leaving through his nose as he kisses into your hair. Nothing else is said, but no words are needed. It’s been settled that you both are planning for the long run together and you’ll start to alter your life to make it fit into the picture.

You don’t jump into it right away, but a few weeks after the discussion you had about hiring a new nanny, you take the first step. Ruth agrees to cover one day every week, Fridays, so you can have it off for your sessions. Summer brings a lot of events and occasions and your calendar has been getting busier as your circle of customers has been growing lately. Though Ruth is more than happy to spend some more time with Izzy, you all know she won’t be able to do it too long, you need to find someone at last by the end of the summer.

Harry would never admit, but he is very anxious about bringing a new person into Izzy’s life. He is not the toxic kind of parent who wouldn’t let anyone get near his daughter, but he surely is considerate about who he lets to take care of her and it’s understandable.

On an afternoon spent at the park you are chatting with Ava, Yara’s mom when she mentions a nanny agency they’ve tried out before and had a really good experience.

“They hire people with at least three years of experience and many of their nannies have a degree in some kind of field in connection with child care. We had a nice girl from Russia watch after Yara, she is a primary school teacher but she moved here with her boyfriend for a year. She was amazing, really. Yara loved her, Saige and I loved her, it was a good match.”

She gives you a phone number and later that day you look up the agency, presenting the idea to Harry, who seems interested, but a little hesitant.

“We could still have an interview with them, right? Or I would have to just choose someone from the website like from a catalogue?” he voices his concern as the two of you lie in bed with your laptop propped against your thighs.

“I’m sure we can have an interview,” you smile at him.

Harry just nods, ergo he doesn’t reject the idea, but you can tell he has quite a few doubts about it, but there’s not much you can do.

In the course of three weeks you and Harry have five interviews with nannies that the agency sent and at the end of the day, Harry finds something wrong with all of them, even though they are only minor things.

“You rule out people for the tiniest things, Harry,” you sigh after the fifth interview with a kind middle-aged woman, Kaitlyn. “Based on these interviews you wouldn’t have hired me back in the days,” you joke.

“You know it was different with you,” he points it out and you just nod. He has told you so many times how you were just the perfect fit which is very charming, but it doesn’t help the situation on hand right now.

That evening, when you’re lying in bed, reading, while Harry checks up on Izzy one last time, you see that something is on his chest when he walks in and as soon as he is under the covers next to you, but you don’t ask him, instead just wait for him to bring it up himself.

“Y/N, I’m sorry for being such a pain in the ass about the whole nanny thing,” he sighs tiredly. Closing your book you place it on the nightstand before turning to face him fully.

“You’re not a pain in the ass, just very careful and maybe a little picky,” you add with a soft chuckle.

“Do you think I should be the one staying home with her?”

“Most kids spend the majority of their days separated from their parents in daycare, kindergarten or preschool. It’s not a crime that you are not a stay at home dad, not many like to do that or even fit for that role,” you shrug and it’s your genuine opinion. Just because parents don’t devote one hundred percent of their life to their children, it doesn’t make them bad. Parents deserve to be selfish sometimes.

“I just… I can get so into my head about everything I do wrong,” he sighs, closing his eyes and he seem so tired all of a sudden, like he has been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Brushing his hair out of his forehead you kiss him gently before his eyes open again.

“You’re not doing anything wrong, Harry. Believe me, Izzy is having the best childhood she could ever wish for. She is secure, loved and taken care of. Everything is going well.” He doesn’t answer, just nods as his arms wrap around you, pulling you to his chest and you gladly snuggle into his embrace.

That evening it felt like Harry was shifting in the right direction, but you can never know what really goes on in someone’s head and you couldn’t see what was coming.

A few days later another candidate comes for an interview, you, Harry and the young girl called Rachel sit outside at the terrace as Harry goes through the same questions he asked every other applicant while Izzy is playing around the swing set.

Rachel just finished her bachelor’s and is now taking a gap year before moving back to her hometown to work at her father’s law firm. She grew up with three younger sisters and took care of them most of the time to help her parents out who worked a lot. She is nice, very well educated and it’s clear she is great with children. Yet again, when you glance at Harry you don’t see him as satisfied as you are and you already know he is going to find something against her.

“Alright, so what is it this time?” you sigh once Rachel is gone and you can finally talk openly about her.

“She basically doesn’t have any official knowledge about kids, she just grew up with kids, that doesn’t qualify her as a professional.”

“Raising children is the best knowledge you can get, Harry,” you argue, feeling a little impatient this time. Rachel is perfect for the job, but any other applicants would have been fine too. You’re running out of time and Ruth won’t be able to help much longer.

“I would just be a lot more comfortable if it was a professional staying home with my daughter,” he answers, marching into the kitchen and you follow him.

“There were plenty of professionals between the previous ones as well. You are ruling everyone out!”

“I’m not ruling them out, I’m just trying to make the best decision for my child!”

“By being absolutely insatiable?!”

“Why is it so bad that I want the best choice?” he growls throwing his hands into the air.

“It’s not, but the best choice is not always one without any flaws, Harry,” you point it out, hoping he gets what you’re talking about.

“But I want this to be flawless!” he snaps and you can see that he has lost his patience at this point, but so did you. “I’m not settling for less than what I want, Y/N!”

“So then what? You lied when we talked about all of this? Because without a replacement, I can’t start working more!”

“I didn’t fucking lie, I’m just asking for more time!”

“Well it seems like you just want to push me into changing my mind about switching jobs and eventually say that I’m staying home, taking the blame off of you!”

“I’m not pushing you into anything, Y/N. We still have time until the end of summer, I just want to find the perfect person, give me some time!”

“Harry, there won’t be a perfect person!” you raise your voice, done with running the same circles at this point. “Any of the previous applicants would have taken good care of Izzy, why are you ignoring it?!”

“Stop telling me what to do when it comes to Izzy!” he then snaps, his voice beaming through the room, taking you by surprise. But what he says after this is what really hits you hard in the chest. “She is my daughter, not yours!”

Part of you knows he didn’t mean it the way it came out. Like you had absolutely no relations to Izzy, like you weren’t partially raising her way before you got together with Harry. You can see that it just slipped out in the heat of the moment, but your anger is making you selfish and not care about that anymore. His words hurt and you’ve stopped making excuses for him.

“Yeah, you’re right. Why am I still even here?” you calmly ask before simply turning around and heading out.

The calm but warning tone snaps him out and he is quick to realize he has crossed a line. He launches after you and almost catches you in the hallway when Izzy runs inside, calling out for him.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

Harry stops and turns around to see if she is alright and it gives you just enough time to escape. You rush out of the house and throw yourself into your car, igniting it and driving away as Harry shows up at the front door, calling after you, but you ignore it, making your way to your mom’s. You need a familiar place to calm yourself down at.

Harry tries to call you several times, and though the first few times it rings out, you send his calls to voicemail almost immediately after a while.

“Damn it,” he growls after another failed attempt to reach you. It’s been almost an hour since you stormed out and he is losing his mind, not knowing where you are, especially after what he said.

He regretted it the moment the words fell from his lips, but he knew it was too late. He let his anger bring the worst out of him and it all crashed down on you when you didn’t deserve any of it. Harry knows you’re right, he’s been trying to find something bad about every applicant because… part of him thinks that he is a bad father for not being the one taking care of Izzy all the time. If it wasn’t enough already, he’s been feeling like a failure for years… ever since he lost his wife because he wasn’t ready to commit more time for his family. He’s been dealing with the thought of being the worst father for so long, sometimes he convinces himself it’s the truth.

If I was ready for another baby, Maggie wouldn’t have had to die. If I put my family first, she would still be alive, he tells himself often when he is feeling the darkness clouding over his mind. Little does he know that it’s all just in his head. It doesn’t make him a bad father that he wanted to wait a little longer before having another baby. He never put his work above his family, he was always there when he was needed and made sure his loved ones are safe and taken care of. Never in his life did he ever put his work before Izzy or Maggie or anyone in his life he cared about.

But sometimes, your mind can play dirty tricks on you. And Harry fell for them.

As time is passing by he is growing more and more anxious when he doesn’t hear from you. No calls, no texts, he has no idea where you went or when you’re coming back. Sitting on the edge of the bed he stares out the window blankly before his eyes wander to the side where you usually sleep and it hits him hard when he realizes how eerily similar the situation is.

Following a fight his lover runs away, doesn’t answer his calls and he can’t get a hold of her. It’s like history is repeating itself all over again and as realization creeps up his spine, his throat tightens and he gasps, tears flooding into his eyes. With shaky hands he grabs his phone and dials Niall’s number, hoping he is not out somewhere at a bar, ignoring his phone.

“What’s up?” he answers the phone delightfully.

“Call Heather now and ask if she knows Y/N’s mom’s address,” he snaps immediately frantically.

“Woah, what happened?”

“Niall! Just do what I asked!” he barks and ends the call, giving his friend the chance to obey. Luckily, Niall feels the seriousness of the situation and does as Harry asked. A few minutes later a text arrives to Harry’s phone with the address.

Putting Izzy into the car he speeds down the streets to Gemma’s house who is shocked to see her brother in this state, but she doesn’t have the chance to ask anything as Harry drops Izzy off and asks her to watch her for the night.

“Okay, yeah, but—“

“Not now, Gemma!” he calls back, already running back to his car, heading to your mother’s house where you sought comfort following the fight.

“Not that I don’t like having you here, but you really should go home and talk it out.” Trevor joins you outside where you’ve been sitting on the steps of the terrace, staring out into the darkening sky. It’s been a few hours since you basically ran away from home and Harry has been blowing your phone up so you put it into airplane mode, sending all his calls to voicemail until you feel like dealing with him.

Trevor sits beside you, his long legs coming up closer to his chest as he sits the same way as you, his arms hug his knees.

“I know, I just… I’m a little tired,” you mumble.

“You don’t have to discuss it, but Harry would want you home for the night, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” you nod breathing out. “Do you think I overreacted?” you ask him, feeling unsure about the way you acted. Was it too much? Did you have the right to do it? You’re not so sure about it anymore.

“Well, he didn’t lie about Izzy not being your daughter,” Trevor huffs. “Though he could have handled the situation better. I get it that he just wants what’s best for her, but you were right too.”

Sitting in silence Trevor doesn’t try to convince you to apologize or keep holding a grudge. He just lets you figure it out all by yourself.

Not long later you go back inside and grabbing your phone from the dining table you decide to turn it back on, missed calls and texts flooding the device, but for your biggest surprise, not just from Harry.

Heather: Niall just called me to get your mom’s address urgently, everything alright?!

“Oh shit,” you gasp, typing a quick reply to assure her that you’re fine and then you open Harry’s text seeing how frantic he grew over time and you realize what it must feel like to him. The situation is way too similar to the way he lost Maggie and though you didn’t mean to hurt him by putting him through it again, it’s already too late.

Just as you are about to call him to let him know you’re fine a car pulls up on the drive way and you know it’s him. You rush out the front door the moment he jumps out of the car, eyes wide, chest heaving as he finally lays his eyes on you.

“Oh my God!” he breaks down in tears as you smash against him, wrapping him in your arms, he does the same, his strong arms circling around your waist tightly as he sobs into your chest painfully.

“I’m fine, everything is alright. I’m fine. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for running away like that,” you mumble, kissing the side of his head, holding him for dear life.

“I was so scared it happened again!” he whimpers, his whole body shaking. You slowly start pulling him until you reach the little front porch where there is a small bench kept next to the front door. You sit and pull him with yourself, he doesn’t even loosens his hold around you, as if you would turn to dust if he lets go of you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it through,” you hum, fingers combing through his hair as you try to calm him down. He is still shaking, but his sobs are starting to die down finally, his hands still fisting your shirt at your waist.

“No, I’m sorry for being such a dick. I didn’t mean it. You are doing so much for Izzy and I, I don’t know what I would do without you!” he whimpers and when he finally lifts his head up, your heart breaks at the painful look in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You were right about everything! Please forgive me!”

“Oh Harry,” you breathe out, the tears already welling in your eyes as you brush his messy curls out of his forehead.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you, what I said was bullshit! Please forgive me, I can’t… I don’t want to lose you, Y/N,” he stutters with one breath and then he adds: “I love you.”

Your lips part as you stare back at him in total awe at his sudden confession. Though it’s been an emotional ride, you weren’t expecting him to drop this bomb on you. A smile cracks on lips as you cup his face in your hands, feeling a hot tear rolling down your cheek.

“I love you too, Harry,” you answer, both of you letting out a relieved chuckle as he finally presses his lips to yours. His kiss tastes salty from both your tears, it’s needy and a little uncoordinated, but it means the world to you at this moment.

Sitting on the little bench you finally talk everything out once you both calm down enough to speak. Harry admits that he’s been so picky about the nannies because he is still struggling to be the best father he can and is reminded of being alone in this every time he faces a struggle. It constantly reminds him that he is supposed to have his partner with him, solving everything together, but now he is on his own and has to provide the best possible life for Izzy.

“Harry… you’re not alone,” you breathe out, heart aching for the man you love with everything in you. “And I’m not only talking about myself. Your mom, Gemma, Niall, even Saige, Ava and Linda are always happy to help you out with everything. If Maggie was still here, it wouldn’t be just the two of you. Raising a child needs a whole village,” you chuckle softly. “But if you want a partner in it… I’m here. And I really mean it. I see a future with you, I want to be part of your family, of course, only if you let me.” Reaching over your hand finds his on his lap and you squeeze it gently as he looks at you, his expression still a little torn, but it’s not as painful as it was when he arrived.

“I would love to have you be part of my family, Y/N.”

It’s like a rock is lifted off your chest upon hearing his reassuring words. This is all you ever wanted, have a partner in life who is willing to build a future together with you and Harry is offering you just that.

You stay on that old little bench for so long, you don’t even realize how late it has gotten, only when your mom shows up at the door, wearing her nightgown and a fluffy robe.

“Don’t want to bother, but do you want to spend the night? Just asking if I should get you some extra pillows and blankets…”

“Oh! Um, no. We are going home, but thank you mom,” you smile tiredly, noticing it’s nearing midnight now.

Harry stands from next to you and as he steps to your mother you realize they haven’t even met. Harry stands tall in front of your mom, but you notice the nervous flash in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even have the time to introduce myself,” he mumbles with a nervous chuckle. Your mom blushes, most likely finding your boyfriend quite handsome though you already showed pictures of him to her. “I’m Harry,” he says, holding out a hand.

“Oh, no worries! I’m Tina!” she smiles charmingly as they shake hands.

“Nice to meet you, Tina.”

“I know we should have probably had a better introduction, but we’ll come around some other time under better circumstances,” you chuckle softly as you stand up from the bench too.

You say goodbye to Trevor and your mom and finally head home. Harry tries to convince you to ride back in his car, but you don’t want to leave yours here, so you tell him it’s going to be fine. Both of you arrive in one piece and you only realize that Izzy is nowhere to be found when you walk into the house.

“Dropped her off at Gemma’s. I’ll have to explain a lot of things to my sister tomorrow, but it can wait,” he chuckles softly before his hands reach out to you, grabbing your waist gently as he pulls you closer to him. “I’m so sorry for tonight, Y/N.”

“Hey, we agreed that no more apologizing,” you remind him of the deal you made earlier. “It’s all in the past.”

Harry nods, huffing through his nose before leaning down he kisses you softly, as if you were some kind of fragile artwork that needs to be handled with so much care.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips, his eyes barely open under his thick lashes.

“I love you too,” you smile back, your hands coming to rest at the base of his neck.

“I will never get tired of hearing that,” he chuckles lowly, making you laugh too.

“Good, because I’ll be saying it a lot.”

“Perfect.”

“Stop picking on your lip!” you warn Harry when you catch him fidgeting with his bottom lip. He wouldn’t admit, but he is surely nervous as the two of you are waiting for Izzy to join you downstairs. She just got home from the zoo with Gemma, they had an amazing day together, but it had a purpose. You needed her to be looked after while you went to the doctor. It was your first ultrasound since the time you went to see if you’re really pregnant or the tests just fooled you, but it was one hundred percent legit. You were indeed pregnant.

You and Harry got married a few weeks before Izzy turned six. She was the cutest little flower girl in the small ceremony held at the backyard of your own home. Both of you agreed that you don’t want anything big and flashy, just an intimate little wedding with your close family and friends. It’s been two months of being husband and wife and it’s almost completely sure the little baby growing now in your tummy was conceived on your wedding night…

You’ve been keeping it a secret, wanting to tell Izzy first before sharing the news with your friends and family.

“Do you want to talk first or do I do it?” Harry asks in a whisper, as if Izzy could hear anything from upstairs.

“I have a feeling you wouldn’t be able to get a word out so I’ll take the lead, if you don’t mind,” you chuckle softly and Harry doesn’t argue.

He has been such a nerve wreck thinking about telling Izzy that she is going to be a big sister. These past years she has dealt so well with processing everything about the situation with her mom, you and the idea of her dad having a new wife. You felt like she was a little confused at the beginning, but once you had an actual, mature talk with her, answered all her questions, you could see things shift to place in that cute little head of hers. Now she knows what it means that her mom passed and how you came into the picture. This is why you have no doubt she’ll take the news well, but Harry is still afraid she might flip.

Little feet tap against the floor somewhere upstairs and then Izzy runs down the stairs, joining you at the dining table.

“What’s the surprise?” she asks in excitement. You told her you have a surprise for her when she arrived and now she is pumped for whatever is coming.

“Izzy, you know how Zac has a little brother, right?” you ask, smoothly starting the discussion.

“Yes! His name is Jeremy!”

“Yeah. So Jeremy is a little younger than Zac, they are siblings. Zac’s parents wanted to have more than just one kids and so they decided to have Jeremy.”

“Mrs. Rumbald had him in her belly!” she explains cleverly. The topic of babies has already came up earlier, so now she has an idea of what really happens when a couple decides to have a baby.

“Exactly,” you nod smiling. “You know how your daddy and I are now married, right? We talked about what it meant.” Izzy nods, glancing at her father who is sitting beside you, sweating his balls off even though it’s going smoothly. “Married couples often decide to have babies. This is what your dad and I did too and now there is a baby in my belly too. That means that you’re going to have a little brother or sister soon.”

Izzy blinks a few times, processing your words before her face lights up with excitement as she gasps.

“Can I play with her?” she asks, making you and Harry laugh.

“Might be a boy, baby,” Harry chimes in.

“Okay, then can I play with him or her?” she corrects herself.

“Well, you have to be careful with newborn babies, but I’m sure she or he will love to play with you!”

“What’s it gonna be called?” she asks her next question.

“We don’t know that yet. But you can suggest names if you want to,” Harry offers.

“Can it be Elsa if it’s a girl?” she immediately suggests and you smile at her first thought. Of course she says Elsa, she is going through her mandatory Frozen obsession like every other kid at her age.

“We’ll put it on the list,” you tell her. “Do you want to see a picture of the baby?”

“You can take pictures of the inside of your belly?” she asks with a confused look.

“Well, not with a camera like the ones I use,” you explain as you place the black and white, messy picture of the tiny baby in front of her. She grabs it and starts inspecting it as if it was some kind of puzzle and you can tell she is having a hard time making out where the actual baby is. “That’s right there. It’s still tiny and has to grow a lot,” you tell her, pointing at the right splotch in the picture.

“Can I keep this picture?” she asks smiling up at you sweetly. “I want to put it to my wall!”

A while ago Harry has gotten her a huge frame right above her bed that has wires running across it with tiny clips attached. You’ve gifted her her favorite polaroids from your stack you’ve collected through the years, most of them featuring the three of you. It’s touching to know that she wants her little sibling there already.

“Of course!” you breathe out, touched by the idea.

You follow her up into her room and while she stands on the bed, you put the sonogram next to a photo that was taken of her and Harry on her sixth birthday.

“Can I tell my friends at school that I’m going to have a brother or sister?” she asks, still standing on the bed so now she is almost as tall as you are.

“Um…” glancing over at the door your eyes meet Harry’s who just shrugs, letting you know it’s up to you. “I guess you can, yes.”

“Thank you!” she beams, throwing her little arms around your neck as she hugs you tight and you return it gladly. “Can I watch some TV, please?” she asks with an angelic look she knows you can never resist.

“Yeah, but only for an hour,” you tell her as she jumps in victory before climbing off the bed. Running to the door she gives Harry a hug before disappearing down the hallway. Harry walks in, a proud and soft smile tugging on his lips as he steps to you, his hands finding your waist. He pulls you against his hard chest, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“This went well, right?” he asks.

“Yeah, you were such a big help, sitting there in silence,” you chuckle teasing him.

“But you handled it so good, baby. I didn’t want to interrupt,” he smirks and you just roll your eyes at him before circling your arms around his neck.

“Uh-huh, sure,” you smirk. “So… are you ready to be a daddy again?” you ask him with a shy smile.

“Technically, I never stopped being a daddy,” he points out. “The real question is, are you ready to become a mommy?” he asks turning it back to you.

“I’m… a little nervous, but very excited. I think I’m ready,” you nod smiling.

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna be alright,” he hums, kissing into your hair.

“Wow, when did you become the emotional support in this relationship?” you tease him and he just rolls his eyes.

“Learned from the best,” he nudges his nose against yours before kissing you softly. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” you smile against his lips, thinking about how long the two of you have become since you first met and you are happy you got to be the person who taught Harry how to love and be loved again.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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[ddaenggtan]

say you want passion (i think you found it) | M

you’re a tease. he’s tired of it.

pairing | shownu x fem!reader

wc | 6.5k

genre/warning | Covid doesnt exist sorry, big dick shownu, sweetheart shownu, dom shownu, sub reader, shownu is called hyunwoo in this, he also likes to be called daddy dont judge, sloppy blowjobs, but still, blowjobs, Shownu eats pussy like a CHAMP, Strength Kink, praise, degradation, degrading praise, this is HIGHLY specialized, you've been warned, deepthroating, DEEP deepthroating at that, nsfw pictures, aka shownu likes to remember it when he does a good job so he takes a picture bc it lasts longer uwu, talking with your mouth full (ill let u guess), doggystyle, teasing, brief nipple play, hickeys, begging, dumbification, rough sex, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, coming inside, gspot shenanigans, this is genuinely so unrealistic please do not think sex is like this ever in real life, i mean literally ever if you ever fuck someone and it's like this then they aren't real they're a fae or a god or some shit okay, aftercare, shownu uses 3-in-1 because He Does, Barely Edited by the grace of @personawife​‘s beta that she fit in when she could ilu, 

a/n | first n last shownu smut specifically bc its leilas birthday (@honiboyyoon​). u better enjoy this. (side note for anyone who isn’t into shownu smut, but is curious: there’s a namjoon version on ao3 that i’ll link here), but this took entirely too much effort and i did my damndest to fit as many things that ur into in this one fic as i possibly could. i hope this makes up for u probably never getting the vampire maknae line foursome i kept promising you sdfkldjsfasdf

The front door opens as you step out of the car, and you grin as your boyfriend appears in the frame. He grins at you and your best friend and you search his expression for a sign of anything other than his usual sweetness, but find none. You resist the urge to pout - you won’t give him the satisfaction. 

“Good luck!” Your best friend teases. You roll your eyes at her - she knows precisely what you envisioned upon arriving back to the quaint little house you call home with Hyunwoo. It’s the reason you wore this outfit, and tried on the clothes you did whilst shopping, and sent him selfies in the poses you did. 

You’re on a mission, dammit. It’s been weeks - literal weeks, not even an exaggeration - since you were properly fucked, and you’re fairly tired of prancing around the house in your shortest shorts and deepest v-necks so that when you bend over just right to water your fern, he gets the perfect eyeful. It’s exhausting to try to send all these signals all day every day - but you know how flustered he gets when you ask him directly, so you tried a different tactic. You were being nice!

And it hasn’t worked. At all. He’s offered to help you water your plants, to let you borrow his flannel pajamas in case you’re cold, and even to buy you a sweater, at one point. 

In August. 

So suffice to say, you’re getting a little tired of him being oblivious. So you’d called up your best friend and invited her to go shopping with you, and yes, it was also very fun to hang out with her and get boba, but she’s also the master of hyping you up and making you feel sexy and desirable, so it was truly a win-win.

Plus, she color-coordinated her own houndstooth pantsuit with your pink houndstooth skirt/blazer combo, so really, you should send her a fruit basket or something. Maybe cookies. 

The point remains that your boyfriend hasn’t responded to any of your borderline pornographic selfies or the very pointed videos of you holding various sex toys and asking if it would fit. You’re at your wit’s end, and you were really hoping that it would truly get through to him this time that you want nothing more than to be railed against the mattress so hard that you cry. 

You’re a simple girl, after all. 

But no! He’s got that sweet smile on his face as you carry your shopping bags in one hand and your purse in the other, carefully sidestepping the cosmos he’d just planted the other day so you wouldn’t step all over his hard work. His smile widens when you reach the door, and he presses a sweet, gentle kiss against your forehead that has you on the verge of tears. 

He waves again to your best friend as she drives off, and as usual snags your shopping bags out of your hand so he can place them beside the door. You’ve already pulled your blazer off to hang in the entryway closet by the time he’s shut the door, and you gasp as you’re jerked back. His hands are on either side of your head, braced against the front door like it’s the only thing keeping him up, and you struggle to focus on anything that isn’t the way his muscles flex.

“Do you have any idea what today was like for me?” He growls. The sound of it brings heat between your thighs, and you resist the urge to cheer. 

“Sorry, should I not have sent you any selfies today?” You ask, keeping your voice as light and innocent as you can. He makes eye contact with you; there’s a fire in his eyes you haven’t seen in what feels like forever. “Did you not like them?”

“You know damn well what I thought of them,” he mutters, one hand coming down to rest on your hip. “I’ve tried so hard lately, y’know? The tiny shorts with your ass hanging out, the shirts that show everything when you bend over. God, the bending.”

“Really?” You breathe. It’s always exhilarating to know that you’re desired, but this is nearly heady. He fixes his gaze on you, eyes burning, and your smile softens slightly. 

“I was trying,” he says, clearly holding himself back, “To be a good boyfriend. To make sure that you know that I want more from you than just sex, and that I value you as more than just someone attractive. I was trying so hard to prove that you– that we have more between us than that. That I respect you more than that.”

“So don’t respect me.” You say it like it’s obvious, because it is. You’ve been laying down signals galore the past few weeks, and clearly he did not get the memo. 

“I’m always going to respect you,” he says instead, sighing slightly as he leans in to press his forehead against yours. “I don’t want to disrespect you, you’re worth more than that. But fuck, all I wanna do is fuck you stupid right now.”

“Please,” you whisper, biting your lip. It’s all you’ve wanted for weeks and now you might finally - finally - get it. “Disrespect me, daddy.”

The hand on your hip tightens, no doubt bruising the skin, and you gasp at the feeling. Hyunwoo makes eye contact - just long enough to make sure that you’re on board for whatever it is he’s about to do. 

He could probably suggest a number of things that you’ve never considered and you’d say yes, at this point - you’re not ashamed to admit that you’re desperate. 

The hand on your hips lowers - he traces all the way down your thigh and to the back of your knee before travelling back up, this time under your skirt. He kisses you as he does it - long, heated kisses that make your head spin so perfectly that you don’t know what he’s doing until he glides a finger across your clothed core. 

You gasp into the kiss, but it doesn’t deter him. He pulls down, kissing and biting down your jaw to your neck as his fingers trace over you once more. You can feel him smile against your skin. 

“You’re already soaked,” he tuts. “You’ve ruined this pair, princess. How naughty of you. Would you like daddy to take them off?”

“Yes!” You moan as his fingers ghost over your folds once more. 

“Yes what?” He asks, and you could cry with how much you want him. 

“Yes, daddy,” you tell him, and he smiles once more. It’s blinding, how bright he is when he smiles like that, and for a second you’re breathless. Then you feel them - his hands, burning a trail along your thigh to tug at the band of your underwear. It only takes him a few seconds to pull them down as he bends, and he kisses your thigh as he brings one of your legs up so he can slide them off completely. 

He was right - they are ruined, the evidence of your arousal immediately apparent by the large wet spot in the center. He doesn’t bother to slide them off your other leg, though - just lets them hang from your ankle, no doubt as a reminder of how strongly he affects you.

He presses kisses to every bit of skin he can as he stands fully upright once more, suckling a mark into your collarbone that you’ll absolutely cherish when you have to cover it up before work tomorrow. 

His hands don’t leave your thighs - warm and strong and utterly distracting, you can’t take your mind off them as he kisses you again, heady and intoxicating. You feel it as one hand travels back underneath your skirt again, gliding between your thighs. 

A moan sticks in your throat as his fingers slide in between your folds - the feeling of them teasing against your hole before they move to rub light circles into your clit is nearly too much to handle. 

“Hyunwoo, please–”

“Patience,” he interrupts. You can hear the smile in his voice as he slides over your hole once more, spreading your arousal across your lips before teasing your clit again. “Good girls have patience, right, princess?”

You whimper, hips arching off the door to try to guide his finger inside of you. It’s a futile attempt - he just returns to the slow, infuriating circles on your clit, and you would cry if it didn’t feel as good as it does. 

It could be hours or it could be seconds that he continues this pattern - slow, maddening circles on your clit, then the slightest bit of a tease at your hole, just enough to make you think that maybe he’ll fuck you with his fingers, before he returns to the circles. It’s enough to make a stronger woman cry, and you can’t help the whines that you let out when he once again deprives you of the fuck you so desperately want. 

“Please just fuck me,” you finally break, hands moving from where they’re wrapped around his neck to circle his waist and do your best to pull him in closer. You can feel him against your thigh, warm and thick and big, and you want him. 

He hisses when you grind against him, and the one hand that remains on your hip tightens ever so slightly. “You’re being very bad, princess,” he chastises, but you couldn’t care less. Your mind is focused on the memory of what he felt like inside you, and you’re ready to burst with need.

“I don’t care,” you tell him firmly, hands sliding up under his shirt to run your nails against his muscled torso. “I don’t care, I need you, please, I just want–”

“I know,” he cuts you off. His hands disappear from you entirely, but only for a moment - before you know it, two large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding yours out of his shirt. You can't stop whimpering, caught between the memory of the last time he was between your thighs and the reality of his lips against your skin.

Hyunwoo drops - he hits the wooden floor with a muffled thud, and before you can even react, his hands are underneath your skirt. He pushes it upwards, muttering something almost reverent about thighs as he does, and then he’s pressing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs. His hands don’t stop, though - they keep going, shoving your skirt up until it pools around your waist.

“H-Hyunwoo—”

“Ssh,” he whispers, giving your thigh a light bite. A heartbeat later and you can feel his warm breath against your folds. “You wanted to feel good, right?”

“Yes, please,” you breathe, hands instinctively tangling in his soft brown hair. 

“Then be a good slut for me, and stay still while I make you feel good." 

You stifle a whimper - he knows what his words do to you, and you jolt as his tongue gently nudges against your folds. There's no stopping the soft sigh that falls from your lips as he delves deeper, ghosting across your swollen clit to nudge against your hole. He's tentative, teasing with his movements - he likes to make you wait, tease you until you're grinding against his mouth.

You doubt this will be an exception.

A moan is thrust out of you as you feel your hole stretch slightly. Not much, not far - just enough to accommodate him as he fucks your hole with his tongue. It's just the right side of unsatisfying - you're aching, absolutely dripping for him, and this is just enough to whet your appetite and make you hungry for more.

You can feel his smile against you, and you already know what's coming - still, it's disappointing when he pulls his tongue out. You whine, unashamed of how you must sound or how loud you may be, and he chuckles.

"Patience, baby girl," he breathes. Warm air flows over you, and your hands move to tangle in his hair. His tongue shifts again, lapping at your clit for long enough that you think you may cum before he stops to draw mind-numbing circles around it instead.

Time bends around the two of you - it always does when he's between your thighs like this, when he's teasing and deliberate with every swipe of his tongue against you, every press of him against your hole. He edges you for so long; slow circles around your clit turn to quick thrusts inside of you that shift into laps against your hole that drag upward, just barely catching your clit before they stop.

You're sure there would be a puddle on the floor were it not for his dedication. The entire house is filled with the sounds of his mouth against you, only drowned out by the sound of your cries as he begins to suck on your clit.

Your knees quake on either side of his head, and he doesn't hesitate to bring his hands up behind your thighs. Without a second thought, he lifts - not even pausing in his mission, tongue still thrusting into you at an almost absurd rate - and then your thighs are resting atop his shoulders. You gasp, both in shock and in pleasure as he lets his teeth graze ever so lightly against that bundle of nerves.

This isn't the first time he's done this - put you on his shoulders and left you there while he eats you out within an inch of your life - but it's the first time in a long time, and it has you seeing stars as one of your hands stays tangled in his hair and the other is braced against the wall beside you.

"Hyunwoo, please–" You beg, but you can't catch your breath long enough between moans to say anything more. He sucks again, the flat of his tongue gliding over your clit as it's pulled into his mouth once more, and your vision goes white. Your knees quake, and you're sure that if you had been standing, you wouldn't be anymore.

"That's my girl," Hyunwoo praises after he's done cleaning up your cum. When you can see again, you realize he's set you down on the floor and is slowly massaging your thighs.

"Hyun, I....please....can you–"

"You want me to fuck you stupid, baby?" He asks. His tone is a little patronizing, but that's okay, because it only serves to turn you on more. "Does my sweet little whore need my cock in her?"

"Yes, please," you whimper, hips tilting upwards against nothing of their own accord.

Hyunwoo stands and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his grey sweats. A few moments later he's pulled them down just enough to free himself. Your mouth drops open slightly when you finally lay eyes on him - you know he's big. You know that he is big, you've had his entire length inside of you several times now and you've felt it for days after each time, but it still never fails to shock you.

Because he is big. Thick, so thick you can hardly wrap your entire fist around him, and long, with the perfect curve that hits that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. His dick is nearly as perfect as he is, and that is a very high bar.

It's also so hard that you can see it throbbing, jumping every so often as his muscles tense.

"You want me to make you come with my cock, right, baby?" He asks, once again using that patronizing tone that makes heat creep across your cheeks.

You nod.

"Then you're going to have to ask nicely, aren't you?" He prods.

"Please, daddy," you say without hesitation, "Please fuck me, I want you to make me cum so hard that I cry, I want to be a good slut for you."

"Very good, baby," he praises. "Now I want you to prove that you mean it. Can you be a good little whore and suck my cock?"

You lean forward, not even bothering to use your hands because your bones still feel like jelly. You run your tongue across the tip of him, giving small kitten licks to the slit just how he likes. A groan rumbles through him, and he lets out a soft gasp as you slip your tongue down to wet the shaft as well. 

"Fuck, princess," he moans, "I think you've gotten even better at this."

Encouraged, you let your mouth hang open– just barely wide enough to get your lips around the shaft– and let your tongue rest on your spit-slick lips. You glance up long enough to see that Hyunwoo's eyes are blown wide with his desire before you mouth sloppily down his dick. It's messy and would probably be disgusting if it were anyone but the two of you and Hyunwoo didn't have that look in his eyes that promises you'll remember tonight for several weeks. 

His hands move, one adjusting his grip on the doorframe as you suck the head of his cock between your lips while the other comes down to grip one of the two buns you put your hair in that morning. He tugs - not hard, not yet, but firmly enough that it stings slightly and makes you keen.

"If you're going to make a mess, don't you think you should clean it up?" He asks. You lift a brow and he grins. "Clearly you're not that tired if you still have an attitude."

"No," you whine, "I am tired, my bones are basically nonexistent right now thanks to you."

The hand in your hair loosens slightly, and Hyunwoo tuts. "I have to do all the work, huh? Then get on your knees for me, baby girl, so I can use you like a good toy." 

You rush to comply, and only wince a bit at the feeling of the cold floor against your knees. His hand stays where it is the entire time you're moving, but he waits until you're sitting still, legs folded under you and giving you that extra bit of height you'll need. 

"Let me know if it's too much," Hyunwoo commands, and you nod. His eyes darken, slightly, and he runs his thumb along your jaw. "What's the signal?"

"Two taps on your thigh," You tell him, not for the first time. He's always so careful beforehand, and while you appreciate just how much he cares about you, you also are sick of just staring at his cock, and your mouth is beginning to water. 

Hyunwoo coos slightly, and the hand in your hair shifts to guide rather than just anchor. "You're always so good for me," he mutters as he slides the tip past your lips. "Always such a good little slut." 

You don't stop the whimper that escapes your throat – he loves them, and you know it. Your mouth is lax, nothing more than a hole for him to fill as he sees fit, and there's the slightest twinge of complaint as your jaw begins to stretch. 

You ignore it, determined to get as much of him as possible this time. You've practiced for this, nearly every day, since the last time and you're not stopping until you beat your record. 

Hyunwoo sighs as he hits the back of your throat. "God, you're perfect," he mutters as he begins to slide back out. You let your jaw relax a bit as he does, and when just the tip rests on your tongue, you give it a small kiss, just because you can. 

Hyunwoo smiles, gaze softening for a split second. "Hands in position, baby girl," he reminds you, and you do as he says – one hand on back of each of his thighs, so you can tap out if you need to. 

Also so you can feel those incredible muscles flex as he starts shallow thrusts, rippling and tensing under your fingers. If your mouth weren't otherwise occupied, you'd bite them. 

Hyunwoo continues carefully, testing just how much of himself can fit before you start to gag on his length….and just how long you can choke before you really start to need air. 

He pulls back before you even need to tap out, always careful to keep an eye on you for any warning signs. He slides back in and waits until he hits the back of your throat again, pushing slightly further, and just as he's about to begin pulling back out, you look up at him with wide eyes.

You know you look like a mess; drool gathering on your lips because your mouth is too full to hold it, tears streaming down your cheeks from your attempts to stop gagging. Hyunwoo loves it when you look ruined like this, adores taking your perfectly crafted image and crumbling it to pieces in his hands. 

So it's no surprise when he lets out a low moan, or when he lets himself slip a little further down your throat. This is as far as he's ever gotten and you want him to know how good you are, how hard you've been practicing  with the toys underneath your bed. He slides out, precum dripping onto your tongue as he does, and you bat your lashes at him.

"Use me," you tell him. "Use me like the toy that I am for you, Daddy." Something darkens in his eyes and he doesn't hesitate to thrust  back in.

Your eyes water with the force of it and you don't stop the moan that escapes you as he slides deeper down your throat than he's ever been before. There's still a couple inches left before he'd be fully sheathed, but Hyunwoo doesn't even seem to notice as he pulls out just to thrust back in.

Neither of you are quiet — you can barely hear the wet squelch of your mouth. It's drowned out by the moans he draws from you, which in turn pull moans from him between the words he growls out.

"God, you're so perfect," he mutters as he fucks your throat with abandon. "The perfect angel slut, so good at getting throatfucked, just made for my cock no matter where it goes, huh? You're such a good whore, you're probably fucking soaked just from my dick in your mouth, aren't you?"

You whimper around him and he speeds up, relentless; he's not wrong either — you are soaked, can feel it between your thighs as your hips rock fruitlessly against empty air.

"Oh, look at you," Hyunwoo coos, "So desperate to be fucked while sucking me off. Maybe one day I'll get one of your buddies over here to fuck your throat while you ride my cock, since you're so desperate to get used like a good slut. But I don't even think that'll be enough, will it? Because they won't be me." He thrusts a little deeper, a little rougher, and you aren't sure if the noises you're making are as loud as they seem to you but either way, they only serve to egg him on. 

"No," Hyunwoo continues, "They won't be Daddy, will they? They won't be able to get this deep in your throat, won't be able to fuck you like this. And you know why? Because this is my hole." He punctuates the sentence with a sharp thrust and you squeeze the backs of his thighs to show your agreement. "You're my perfect slut. My good little whore. Isn't that right, baby girl?"

You squeeze the backs of his thighs again, but it isn't enough. He stills, still buried nearly to the hilt inside you, and cocks a brow.

"Well? Aren't you my perfect whore?" Your face flames, heat burning in your cheeks. Your jaw aches from being stretched for so long, there spit and precum dripping down your chin  and you can feel him throbbing in your throat. 

And Hyunwoo looks expectant. He wants to hear you agree with him, wants you to remind yourself of this fact.

You don't even blink when he pulls his phone out of the pocket of his sweats. You can't see what he does, but based on how he angles it and the shallow thrusts he gives without looking away from the screen, you can guess. 

"Aw, is my baby girl getting shy now?" He teases as you make eye contact with the lens and feel your face heat up. "Don't even worry about it, baby. I just wanna remember how fucking perfect you look right now forever. My perfect cocksucking slut."

You whimper, pussy clenching around nothing and you're overcome with a sudden need to feel him inside you.

"Are you gonna be a good slut now?" Hyunwoo continues, still recording. "Are you daddy's good slut?" You nod and can't stop the reflexive swallow as he goes even deeper. Hyunwoo groans at the feeling and you can see his grip on his phone tighten for a moment.

"Say it," he commands when his eyes open once more. "I want to hear you say it."

" 'm 'a'y's 'er'ec' 'ore," you moan. It doesn't even sound like words, at this point, but when you look back up at him with wide eyes. Hyunwoo looks proud.

"You absolutely are," he whispers. He hits a button and then pockets his phone again. He slides carefully out of your mouth and casually strokes his cock with one hand as he wipes spit from your face with the other. "I think you've been a perfect angel, baby girl, so you've earned your reward. Where would you like it?"

"Bed, please, Daddy." Your voice is hoarse and scratchy, but you don't care, and Hyunwoo doesn't seem to either as he pulls his sweats up and then bends. The world spins for a moment and then steadies, and you realize he's got you in his arms. Hyunwoo carries you like a princess towards the room you share, and tosses you on the bed without hesitation.

Your eyes widen as he starts to strip out of his clothes, and you can't deny that you enjoy the show. The torso of muscles all rippling, the golden skin all shining, the desire in his eyes. Then the sweats — they hit the ground with a thud and you idly hope his phone is alright before you remember there are more important things right now.

He is, unsurprisingly, still hard — almost painfully so, a deep swollen pink at the head and jumping every so often. The vein running up the underside is throbbing, and you can actually feel yourself get wetter with anticipation.

One knee rests on the mattress, then the other, and Hyunwoo is crawling towards you on his hands and knees, and you can see every muscle as it shifts and fuck you love this man.

"I love you," you tell him, not for the first time. He breaks for a second, a bright smile taking over his face.

"I love you," he replies, pressing a kiss to your thigh. "Can we take those clothes off now, baby, because as great as you look, you're even better naked."

Breath catches in your throat and you nod. Hyunwoo is almost reverent as his hands glide up your thighs and is exceedingly gentle as he slides down the zipper and then the skirt itself. He smiles again, almost shy, and you can't help but marvel at the fact that this is the same man who bad you gagging on his dick not five minutes ago.

He leans in and gently nudges your nose with his, but when you lean forward to kiss him, he backs away with a playful grin. His warm hand rests on your waist and he leans in again only to dart back when you try to kiss him — not far, though. He's still close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath mix with yours, but it's still infuriating. 

You pout at him, and his smile just grows. "What is it?" He asks, teasing. "What do you want?" His lips ghost over yours as he speaks and it nearly breaks you.

"You," You whine. "I want you."

"You have me." He leans forward then, capturing your lips with an intensity you haven't seen in a long time. His mouth moves against yours and it's firm, commanding, and absolutely intoxicating as he pulls back just to lightly bite your lips. It's not rough, not really, but it's fiery and exciting and everything you've wanted. 

He presses closer, nimble fingers undoing the buttons of your blouse in what seems like an instant. Warm hands cross your spine and then your bra is gone, too. His skin seems to meld to yours, hands moving everywhere as he lays you back. 

Your breath hitches when you feel him against your entrance and he smiles into the bruise he's sucking into your throat. 

"You're so fucking wet, baby," he breathes as his tip teases against your entrance. "You're always so wet for me, so ready to be fucked. Just a perfect fucking whore, huh?" He slides in then, but only a bit. Just like before, it's just barely enough for you to feel him stretching you out. Just a tease of what's to come.

"Hyunwoo," you whine. You can see the amusement in his eyes as he chuckles.

"What is it? You want more?" He slides in further, but just a centimeter. You whine again, pushing your hips up against his to try to push him deeper. You can feel yourself throbbing, aching, for him, and you're tired of being teased. You want to be full. 

You tell him as much, watching his pupils dilate with every word until there's hardly any iris left to be seen. 

"Is that so?" He mutters, almost to himself. "Well, your wish is my command." He slides in, slowly, but this time he doesn't stop. He just keeps going and going and going, until you can feel him at your cervix. It stings – you're stretched so far, and he's so deep inside – but you relish it. 

"Beautiful," Hyunwoo mutters as he begins to slide back out, inch by agonizing inch. You whimper as the tip nearly slides out, too, and your hips lift of their own accord. Hyunwoo takes the hint and pushes back in; he creates a rhythm, one so slow, so maddening, that you're on the verge of tears as you whine and whimper underneath him. 

He notices your frustration, pulls himself away from lazily mouthing at your nipples, and hums. 

"What's wrong, baby? You aren't satisfied yet?" He gives you that Boy-Next-Door grin that you know hides a demon behind it. "Are you going to ask nicely again? Tell me no one fills you up like I do and beg me to fuck you the way you want? You look so pretty when you beg."

Any other time, you wouldn't. You would at least hesitate, make him work a little harder for your pleas. But you're desperate and frustrated and have no shame, so you don't hesitate. 

"Please, Daddy," you beg, letting your legs fall open and arching your back so his eyes drop lower and lower. "Please, Daddy, no one can fill this pussy like you do, no one can fuck my holes like you. Pl–please," you moan as he slides entirely inside once more, "Please fuck me right, make me come on your cock, I wan– wanna be fucked stupid, want you to– to fuck me stupid, please, wanna be Daddy's perfect slut, pl– Ah!"

You can't help your surprised gasp as Hyunwoo flips you onto your stomach with a low growl.

Warmth drapes along your back as you rise up, palms splayed across the sheets and elbows locked to keep you upright; his skin is sweat-slick and heated against your own, and a shiver runs down your spine when he pauses to runs his teeth along the lobe of your ear. 

"You are the best part of my life," he announces.

Butterflies explode in your belly a split second before he slides out of you.

"And I'm gonna make you cum so hard that you'll never forget that fact."

"Hyunwo— Oh!"

He thrusts into you with enough force to toss you into the headboard, had he not planted one hand firmly on your hip and had the other curled around your breast to tease your nipple. 

"You like that?" Hyunwoo asks with a smile in his voice. He repeats the movement and you clench around him as you gasp out a moan.  It's all you can do to nod and he flicks your nipple in response. "Good."

He lifts up, both hands now holding you steady by an iron grip on your hips, and readjusts his legs so yours are spread slightly wider. Your arms are trembling but you pay them no mind. 

Until Hyunwoo thrusts forward, pulling back just as quickly only to bury himself again, a heartbeat later. His pace is absolutely merciless; the sound of skin hitting skin fills the room, mixing beautifully with the wet slide as he shoves back in and the rough, throat moans that he pulls from you. Your vision swims, and you can't concentrate on anything else as he gives you the fucking that's been haunting your dreams every night. 

He adjusts his grip, one hand moving to sit firmly on the small of your back and press you down just a bit. The angle shifts – not much, but enough that the next time he pounds into you, he thrusts right up against that spot that makes your toes curl. 

You cry out, vision going white as he hits it again, and again, and again, absolutely ruthless in his mission. Your muscles go weak, biceps twitching as they give out, and then you're face down in the mattress. Hyunwoo doesn't hesitate, just ghosts his palm down to rest between your shoulders and keep you in place. 

He might be talking – you certainly think you hear the low tones of his voice as he speaks to you, but you can't make out words. It's too much work, too many syllables, too much effort to try to work past the haze that blankets your mind. You can still feel him, pumping in and out of your gushing pussy — the stretch barely stings anymore, and he throbs inside of you.  Each thrust is still perfectly angled to hit that mind-numbing place that keeps you from doing anything more than screeching his name. 

He slows, immediately switching from speed to power as he manages to put even more force behind his hips. The hand in your back moves, as does the one on your hip and then you're rising.

A warm palm across your throat – not choking,  just keeping you in place while the other traces along your spread thigh. 

There are words – something your brain is too fried to make out, and then a rumble that vibrates through you. A laugh. His thrusts get a little faster as he fucks up into you, and you're dimly aware of his fingers slipping between your folds. 

Someone screams — no, not someone. You. You scream, something so loud and provocative that it can't even be called a moan anymore, as he begins to rub circles around your clit. Orgasms rock through you,  every part of your body going boneless even as you shake from the force of it. It's impossible to tell when it stops, if it stops – the aftershocks are strong and he still hasn't stopped fucking you, though he's slower and gentler now, letting you ride it out on his cock. 

"……perfect for me, " you hear him whisper as you're senses come back. "Absolutely perfect, an amazing fucking— just divine, you are."

"Hyun," you manage, and it's no shock that you sound absolutely wrecked.  "D– Daddy."

"I'm here, baby girl," he mutters, "What do you need?"

"You," You respond instantly. "Want you, wanna fee– feel it, want you to fill me, please, in– ah, inside, want you dripping ou–" You're cut off once more as your body heaves with yet another aftershock, clenching around his hard length again. 

"Whatever you want, baby," he promises. "Can you come once more for me, baby girl? Just one more time so we can come together?"

"Mm…." You pause, taking the best inventory you can as your muscles jolt again. You consider lying to him, or just omitting this, because you know he'll never stop reminding you of it, but decide against it. Instead, you quietly admit,  "I don't think I ever stopped."

"Oh, fuck," he breathes. Within moments, you can feel his thrusts turn more erratic, more frenzied, and then you're impossibly fuller even as something warm drips down the inside of your thigh. 

He's gentle as he lays you down on the bedspread, exceedingly so as he pulls his softening cock out of you. His weight disappears from the bed for a few minutes that seem to stretch into hours, and then the mattress dips, and his soft smile appears once more. 

"Here sweetheart, drink this." He hands you a familiar cup and when you take a sip, the water is cool and refreshing. Wet warmth, surprising but pleasant, glides along your inner thigh and you look down to see him cleaning you up. 

"Mm, this is quite possibly the perfect view," you tease, wagging your brows as you make a show of checking out his muscular arms. It makes him laugh, the soft one that's just for when you're being ridiculous. 

"Drunk your water, you menace," he commands as he continues to wipe. "You're gonna need to replenish your fluids, after all that." He looks pointedly towards the bed and you follow his gaze, face heating when your eyes land on the rather sizable wet spot staining the sheets. 

"Whoops?" You offer. When you look back at him, he only looks fond. 

"Don't even start, it was hot. Besides, they needed to be put in the wash anyway.  I'll start them after you get into the bath." He gives over you, taking kisses along every piece of skin he can until he reaches your lips. You can't help the way your breath catches – even after all this time, he manages to make you breathless over the smallest things.

He peppers kisses along your cheeks, and nose, and everywhere else until you're giggling and trying to turn away from him. Unfortunately, with his arms on either side of you, you're fairly well trapped, so you settle for fucking your head into his neck instead. 

You pause. Sniff again. Back up. He looks sheepish, like he already knows what you're going to say. 

"We were out of the fancy stuff—" He tries, but you don't let him. 

"You used that 3-in-1 shit again?" You demand. "Actual body wash isn't even fancy, it's what normal people use! That's it, you're coming into the bath with me after you start the laundry so that I can make sure you didn't use it in your hair, too."

He smiles again, though you have a sneaking suspicion that he's just humoring you when he nods and says, "Whatever you want."

[imagine-loki]

What About Trust, Chapter 6

TITLE: What About Trust CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 6 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki owns a bookshop on Midgard. He had to do something there to try and avoid getting any attention. But he’s not fond of having customers, is rather grumpy and guarded. But then he meets a bright, bubbly and trusting young woman who doesn’t recognise him. To his dismay, he finds himself becoming rather fond of the mortal.  RATING: M

Cleo made her way down the street to Loki’s shop, she was just about there when she saw a young couple running out of the store as fast as they could, almost tripping on their way out.

‘AND DON’T BOTHER COMING BACK!’ Loki roared at them as he stepped outside to make sure they left.

‘Well, that’s one way to get recurring customers.’ Cleo commented, raising an eyebrow at him.

Loki’s face instantly softened. ‘They were spilling coke on my books! They almost spilled all over the very first edition of The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter! Do you know how much that is worth?’

Cleo’s eyes widened. ‘You have the original, like, the very first one ever? The Tale of Peter Rabbit?’

‘I do… And it was almost ruined by those imbeciles.’ He growled.

‘Can I see it?’

Loki huffed and folded his arms over his chest. ‘You’re not listening. It was almost ruined! Value, gone. Poof.’

‘Well we better check it over to make sure they definitely didn’t ruin it.’ Cleo said as she went past him into his shop.

He followed her in and she had already spotted said book on the table by the fire place. She sat down on his chair and pulled it in closer to the table, then carefully opened the book to the first page.

Loki knew he could trust her with his books. She was the only one he knew for certain wouldn’t wreck his prized possessions.

‘Oh wow, this is incredible. I can’t believe it’s the first one. Seriously, how do you get hold of these?’ She asked in awe as Loki wandered over and perched on the arm of the chair.

‘I have my ways… My adopted parents were rather, well off. I grew up surrounded by many of these books they’d managed to acquire over the many years.’ Loki said.

‘I wish my parents had been as into books or music. I mean, they did read and listen to music, but not to the extent that I do. I was always told off for living with my head in the clouds. My nose always stuck in a book or my headphones in to listen to music.’ Cleo admitted.

‘If it’s any consolation, my brother and father was the same. My brother especially was always mocking me for being a book worm. But there’s nothing wrong with it, nothing at all.’ Loki said softly, making her smile.

She looked back at the book and read through it, careful with every single page. When she finished, she closed it and gently put it back on the table. ‘Well, it looks fine to me. So I think it got away unscathed from the coke spilling.’ She smiled up at Loki.

‘Thank you for so graciously checking.’ He chuckled and grabbed the book to return it to its rightful place.

‘You’re welcome.’ She grinned and hopped up to her feet. ‘So, I was thinking.’

‘Uh oh, dangerous.’ Loki teased, smirking as he walked back over to her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Ha. Ha… I was thinking, if you’re not doing anything tomorrow night, perhaps you’d like to come along to a gig? My friend is in a band and they’re playing at Grand Central Pub.’

‘Hmm.’ Loki folded his arms over his chest. ‘I think I’m washing my hair tomorrow night.’

Cleo glared up at him and put her arms across her chest, too. ‘Don’t be such an ass. You might even enjoy yourself, where’s the harm in that?’

‘Being in a room full of sweaty strangers dancing and gyrating against one another is not my idea of a fun night.’ Loki drawled and wandered over to the nearest book shelf to tidy up a little, even though to Cleo it already looked tidy.

‘What is your idea of a fun night?’ Cleo queried and leaned against the book shelf next to him, getting in his way.

He scowled down at her. ‘A quiet night in with a good book and chocolate is all that I need.’

‘Well, it starts at seven, if you do change your mind. And it’s not a nightclub, it’s a pub. Table seats and a chilled atmosphere.’ Cleo shrugged and started backing away from him. ‘They’re a good band, you might just surprise yourself and enjoy it.’

‘I doubt that.’ Loki mumbled and concentrated on front of him.

Cleo rolled her eyes and shook her head. ‘Alright, your loss.’ She called to him as she headed out.

‘I look forward to hearing all about it the next time you come in to bug me and steal my chair.’ Loki said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, just before she headed out the door.

-

Loki sighed as he looked up at the pub on front of him. He couldn’t believe he had talked himself into going along.

It wasn’t like he had anything better to do anyway, but still.

If it had been anyone else but Cleo inviting him, he would’ve definitely refused. But the thought of spending more time with her was far too appealing, he couldn’t help himself. And she clearly wanted to spend more time with him, too. Since she had invited him, after all.

When he walked into the bar, he was indeed pleasantly surprised to find it was a relaxed atmosphere. It was busy, but not too busy. There was still room to move around without being pressed against other people.

‘Hey, Luke!’ Came a familiar voice.

He turned to the side and smiled when he saw Cleo at a small table at the back. She motioned him over and grinned when he approached, holding out a bottle of beer towards him.

Raising an eyebrow, he took the drink from her and sat down with her. ‘How did you know I would turn up?’

Cleo shrugged and took a swig of her own beer. ‘I wouldn’t say I knew you would, but I hoped you would. I figured if you weren’t here by ten past, then you wouldn’t turn up and I’d just go join my friends.’

‘I might’ve been fashionably late.’ He shrugged.

‘Nah, you certainly don’t seem to be the type to ever be late to something.’

Loki tilted his head slightly. ‘Why are you not joining your friends? Or having them join us? Where are they?’

‘They’re over there, near the bar.’ She pointed to a table of five people, two guys and three girls. ‘Our friend is the drummer of the band. I also guessed that if you did come along, you wouldn’t want to be subjected to conversing with my friends.’

Loki frowned. ‘We can join them if you want.’

‘Do you want to? Or do you want to stay here at this table?’ Cleo asked, smirking as she knew exactly what his answer would be.

‘It is cosier here…’ He said sheepishly.

Cleo laughed. ‘Don’t worry, I said I’d catch them for a quick catch up after the gig.’

Loki smiled and clinked his bottle with hers. He felt warmed that she had thought about what he would prefer, what he would be comfortable with. No one had really gone out of their way for him before or made a sacrifice to make him happier, no matter how little it was it meant a lot to him.

He ended up really enjoying the gig when it started, even bobbing his head a little in tune with the music. Cleo was moving around in her chair dancing and cheering plenty between songs.

Though Loki found himself looking at Cleo more often than at the band on stage. The way her eyes were sparkling in the light, she was such a cheerful and happy soul. It made Loki feel fuzzy inside whenever he looked at her and was with her.

He knew he was in deep trouble now.

After the gig was over, Cleo went to see her friends and Loki decided to go with her to meet them. He thought after all she did for him, he should at least make an effort and be polite.

Cleo was pleasantly surprised when Loki wasn’t like a bear with a sore head towards them. He greeted them all and commented to her friend in the band about how good the gig was.

‘Are you coming along to the party?’ One of her friends asked.

‘I have to work tomorrow, so should probably head home.’ Cleo said sadly.

‘If you give me five minutes, I’ll walk you home.’ One of her other friends offered, one of the guys. They were always wary about their female friends walking home alone in the dark. Even though it was well lit.

‘I’m heading home too, so I’ll make sure Cleo gets home safely.’ Loki jumped in.

‘Are you sure?’ Cleo asked.

‘Of course.’ Loki nodded with a smile.

After saying bye to her friends, Loki and Cleo headed out into the cool night together.

‘Don’t even say it.’ Loki drawled.

‘What? I didn’t say anything!’ Cleo said, but he had known from the way she skipped along the pavement that she had been about to say something.

‘I know you were about to.’ Loki narrowed his eyes at her.

She grinned and began walking backwards just ahead of him. ‘What, that I told you so?’

‘Yes. That.’ Loki rolled his eyes, making Cleo laugh.

‘Well, in my defence I did tell you so… But I am really glad that you enjoyed it.’ Cleo settled back walking next to him.

It wasn’t too far to Cleo’s place. She lived in a nice block of flats not too far from the city centre. But down a nice quiet residential street so it wasn’t too crazy.

Loki walked her up to the front door of the building.

‘Thank you for inviting me along tonight. It was a pleasant enough evening.’ Loki grinned.

‘I’m glad you decided it was more exciting than washing your hair.’ Cleo quipped, grinning back at him.

Loki chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. ‘Yeah, it turned out to be a little better than doing that.’

‘Because of course the company was exceptional.’ Cleo teased, mocking a bow.

‘It was indeed.’ Loki purred.

The both of them paused a moment, looking into one another’s eyes. Loki’s heart started pounding against his chest and so did Cleo’s. They both began to lean in closer, slowly moving towards one another. Loki glanced down at her lips, almost there…

Suddenly the front door swung open and a tenant from the building came bustling out, moving right through between Loki and Cleo. ‘Sorry, excuse me!’

Loki cleared his throat and Cleo stepped back a bit, feeling a little shy suddenly.

‘Uhm, well, thanks for walking me home, Luke. I really appreciate it.’ She smiled sweetly at him, her cheeks red.

Loki opened his mouth slightly for a moment, about to admit his real name. But he found he just couldn’t do it. Then she would know who he truly was, and all the bad things he’d done… He didn’t want to risk her hating him.

‘The pleasure was all mine, darling.’ He ended up saying charmingly.

He waited until Cleo was safely inside the building and out of sight, heading upstairs, before he headed for home… Muttering curses at himself under his breath the entire way.

[mrsgiovanna]

Buon Compleanno (Don Giorno x Fem! Reader)

It's as the name says... This fic is close to my heart and I really enjoyed writing it for our Golden king's birthday. Mostly fluff, it does contain mentions of alcohol consumption though. I hope you all enjoy. ❤️🎊🎉😘🐞💭

P. S. Let the fluff ensue 💐

Word count: 2.5k

“So Mista... Fugo, are things ready on your end? I’ve got confirmation from North Island that everything is ready for us on their end. We have to stagger our arrivals so that Giorno doesn’t actually see you guys there until the party. All our villas are ready for our arrival and his presents are being safe guarded there until we arrive,” you beamed as you secretly went over the final checklist for Giorno’s birthday get away with the team and Trish.

Your friends had ever so thoughtfully come over to see you and Giorno off… well more so to iron out the last details of your master plan, but your boyfriend didn’t need to know that. Attempting to keep your plans for his birthday hidden from him was a near impossible feat. Trying to get him to take some time off and just live for himself was an even bigger task, but being who you are, you managed to plan everything down to the finest detail.

Trying to get the entire island to yourselves and plan the party of a century for your closest allies was a mammoth task, but it was what you felt Giorno deserved. In the years that he’s spent running Passione, he had always placed his own needs secondary to the needs of the organization, which is why you resolved to give him the best experience imaginable for his 21st birthday.

“Hi Giorno! We were just talking about you,” piped up Trish in a voice loud enough to alert everyone to the young don’s looming presence. Eyes widening for a split second, you manage to compose yourself without him catching on and flashed him a pleasant smile. You were taken aback by how handsome he looked dressed down in an azure linen Armani suit, hair braided loosely and cascading down his shoulder. He took his place at your side, casually circling his arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Morning everyone, what’s this about me?”

“Oh, we’re just discussing what we’re going to be doing when you’re away… you know, cats and mice and the like,” joked Fugo, earning him a worried look from Giorno.

“Gosh, relax my love… come on, we have to go, it’s a pretty long flight,”

“Alright, alright, let’s go bella. Well, I’ll see you all in a few days’ time,” leaving to the collective goodbye wishes of your friends you set off to catch the private jet which would take you to the little piece of heaven in the Seychelles.

Upon landing at the airport, you were just one short helicopter flight away from your destination. Giorno’s demeanor was akin to that of a child on Christmas eve, taking in his beautiful surroundings on the helicopter. Stepping onto the helipad, you were greeted by the wonderful fresh scents of the salty sea air, clear blue seas and white sandy beaches for as far as the eye could see. After the welcome, you were lead to the main villa, given your golf cart and allowed yourselves to get settled in for the rest of the night, choosing to spend a quiet night lounging on the balcony overlooking the ocean.

Giorno couldn’t help but stare at your beautiful form. The way the moonlight bounced off the ocean behind you and illuminated your skin mesmerized him. He had known you ever since he had taken over Passione. You served as a valuable ally when it came to weeding out the members who were still unwilling to adopt his ideals. As the years marched on, he started seeking out your company more and more, until it became apparent that he was at his happiest when he was around you… and once the realization had dawned on him, he wasted no time in making you his. You fell hard, and fast, and it was so easy fall into step with each other’s lives, as if you had been created just for each other.

“Bella, this is incredible, I know I put up a bit of a fight but I’m so glad you did this…” he uttered with a dreamy look on his face.

“I’m glad you think so my love, you’re going to love the day I have planned for us tomorrow… Ah! Actually, later on today," you say, glancing at your watch, "it’s just past midnight! Happy birthday my love! I hope you know how much I love you, and I’m incredibly proud of you and all you have managed to accomplish at such a young age… you’re… you’re pretty amazing you know,” the emotions swirled around in Giorno’s eyes while listening to your heartfelt speech.

“(y/n) … I… you’re… I just love you so much tesoro, you’re everything I could ever want,”

“I love you too Gio… come on, it’s late, let’s get some rest,” you say while leading him to bed.

You rose early, just as the sun made its glorious appearance over the ocean. As early as you had woken up though, Giorno was already awake, nursing a cup of coffee as he stared pensively at the brilliant blue water.

“Good morning handsome, penny for your thoughts?” you greeted your lover, wrapping your arms lovingly around his shoulders and nuzzling into his soft hair.

“Good morning principessa… I’m just thinking about how much I love you…”

“Oh? Is that so, Mr. Giovanna? Well prepare to love me even more, go get ready, we have lots to do today,” you say, a lovely light, lilt coloring your voice.

“Any hints?”

“Wear something comfortable, something that we can walk around in,”

With that, your day had started with a guided hike through the island. Between Giorno’s life-imbuing ability and your affinity for adventure, you were both mesmerized by the flora and fauna you encountered on the hike. Once that was over you looked forward to coming back to a special couple’s massage which eased your sore muscles and relaxed you both into a dreamlike state. Finally, after your last treatments, you could get ready for your “dinner” at the piazza. Feeling a sense of pride as you put on the last of your accessories, you smiled at your reflection in the mirror while inspecting your stunning outfit, and grew even happier when you saw Giorno walking out in a casual charcoal grey Dior suit which matched your dress, but not his expression unfortunately.

“What’s the matter my love? You look great by the way…”

“Thank you tesoro… you’re quite the vision yourself,” standing behind you, sharing the mirror, he raked his fingers through his uncooperative hair, sighing in annoyance.

“Gio, stop- here, sit down, I’ll help you,” you say as you gently brush out the tangles and scrunch the wave back into his lovely golden hair. You carefully braid the length of his mane but leave his signature triad of ringlets out, admiring how beautifully the shorter sections of his hair framed his face.

“There…” you leaned back to admire your efforts, acknowledging the fact that you had a particularly exquisite model as well.

“Are you sure this is fine my love?” there was a hint of doubt in Giorno’s voice, but you made sure to banish any such thoughts.

“Of course, I love your hair like this,”

“Well, that’s good enough for me. Shall we leave my princess?”

“Yes… but can I drive the golf cart?” you ask, extending your arm to him, gesturing for the keys.

Speeding past the rest of the villas, you just wanted to make sure that everyone was already at the piazza ready to surprise the young don.

“Are you sure we’re at the right place my love? Or should we be at a different entrance, this looks like it’s closed,”

“Yes caro, come on, I’m sure the staff are inside… I’ve picked up on your habit of wanting to dine in solitude,” you explain as you walk towards the entrance hand in hand. Stepping into the restaurant, the lights dipped and instantly got brighter revealing your closest friends jumping out of their hiding spots with a collective, rambunctious yell of “surprise”, startling your unsuspecting boyfriend.

“Happy birthday my love,” you softly say once again, as the lively music started to play in the background.

“You… did all of this? For me?”

“Of course bello mio, well, I did have help though” you gestured behind Giorno, pointing out Mista, Trish and Fugo walking towards you both.

“Oi, happy birthday Giogio, haha, you look like you need a drink, I’ll be right back,” said Fugo as he went to order the first round of drinks for your little group. Between flitting amongst your guests, dancing with your handsome beau, and stealing moments away to be alone him, you almost forgot to give him his gifts, which were safely stored in the wine cellar of the establishment.

“Well, what do you think my love?” Giorno’s eyes widened when he saw the glass-encased, white Fender Stratocaster signed by just about every rock star, most importantly, his favorite guitarist, Jeff Beck.

“I’ve been looking for this for the longest time… how did you find it tesoro?”

“I also know some people… that’s not all, look next to it…” you motioned towards 5 Morocco solander boxes that housed a rare first edition of the complete 10 volumes of Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables.

“I thought that might look quite beautiful in your study… adding something especially meaningful to your collection,”

“I’m speechless (y/n) … you’ve gone to such great lengths…” you hush him with a passionate kiss preventing him from gushing about your efforts as you were determined to make this night about him.

“I’m sure we’ve been gone for too long, lets rejoin our guests my love,” you started to walk towards the staircase exiting the wine cellar, but you were pulled back against Giorno’s broad chest, grasping your face in his hand, he kissed you with so much fervor this time, leaving you flustered and battling to calm your racing heart. Noticing the effect, he managed to have on you, he gently coaxed you back upstairs with a wicked smirk.

“Hey, you’re back, we’ve been looking all over for you two. We have one more person who wants to say hello,” with a soft smile, Trish reaches behind her to pull out coco jumbo, which meant only one thing…

“Signore Polnareff! Even you…”

“You know I’ve always had a soft spot for pretty girls Giorno… Joyeux anniversaire! You’re a brave young man with a good head on your shoulders and integrity in your heart, always hold on to that,”

“Thank you signore Polnareff, it means a lot coming from you, considering…” cutting him off before Giorno could complete his sentence, Polnareff attempted to lighten the mood.

“Non non non, no sad thoughts tonight, get this man a drink someone, you’re all slacking here,” he said looking at you as you mouthed a small thank you in his direction.

“(y/n), you’ve really outdone yourself. Giogio, you’re a lucky man,” said Mista as he brought a special bottle of champagne for you all to raise a toast with. “Alright, while we’re all here in the same place, I just want to say that you’re all important to me…”

“Mista’s drunk guys, prepare yourselves,” Trish says with an eye roll resulting in hushed giggles as the gunslinger tried to (unsuccessfully) arrange his sentimental thoughts.

Unable to stand it any longer, Trish takes over and pays homage to Giorno, as well as the special people who had given everything in order for them to live, enabling them to carry on their will.

As the party raged on, you took a small break in a dim corner of the piazza, and took a moment to marvel at the fruits of your labor. Everybody was having the best time, including Giorno. After being called away by one of his associates, it filled your heart with fluttery sensations watching the man you loved finally able to act his age for once.

“May I sit with you, carina?” startled out of your musings, you find an old friend standing over you.

“Lorenzo, of course, please, have a seat,” you offer emphatically.

“So, how is one half of Passione’s power couple doing?” his question earning a loud giggle from you. You continued to make conversation with Lorenzo, until Trish came to inform you that one of the service providers needed to confirm a few details with you, so you politely excused yourself and followed Trish. You were confused as she lead you to a secluded part of the beach, where you find Giorno standing alone, staring broodingly at the ocean for the second time that day. You realized that she just made an excuse draw you away to check on Giorno, being slightly concerned yourself after seeing the expression on his face.

“Gio? My love, what’s the matter? Did you just need some fresh air?” he turned to faced you with the softest smile.

“You know bella, I’ve loved you so deeply for years now… you always know what I need… even before I do. I never really feel complete anymore unless you’re with me… which is strange because I’ve always been content on my own. And then it hit me, you will always hold a part of me, and I’ll always seek you out because of it… You’ve given me probably the best experience of my life tonight, but, there’s just one more thing I would like from you to make the day perfect…” you felt light-headed when you saw Giorno moving to kneel down on one knee, pulling out a little trinket box, opening it to reveal the most beautiful ring.

“(y/n), would you give me the greatest gift and agree to spend the rest of your life with me as my wife?”

Emotions tugged at your pretty features, as you whispered a breathy affirmation, while nodding excitedly. Exhaling sharply with a stunning smile, Giorno got back to his feet and placed the elegant ring on your finger, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss thereafter. You threw your arms around his neck, and held him tightly, before the realization dawned on you.

“Wait! How long have you been planning this, Gio? Your question was met with his soft, exasperated laugh.

“Oh! For the longest time amore, I’ll admit though, your plans had forced me to adapt my own, but I had some help in achieving all of this… Trish is a lifesaver,” explained your new fiancé with a hint of pride in his voice.

“I love you Gio, but you managed to hijack your own celebration… I don’t know what to do with you!” the mock exasperation dripping from your voice drew a small laugh from Giorno.

“That’s your problem now tesoro, you already agreed to marry me, no take backs,” with that, you both decide to return to the festivities. Intertwining your fingers with his as you slowly walked back, you both stole loving glances at each other, communicating your intense affections for each other through your eyes alone… perhaps it was as he said, you mused… that a part of your soul resided with him also, and so you always sought him out to feel complete too, just as he did with you.

[ialwaysgobacktoit]

THIS IS PART 8 NOW :)

Of "Time to rest your weary head" (or 'Azriel surprises Gwyn for her birthday'!!!!)

Check out the whole story here

Since last chapter was so short, I made this one bigger - and I absolutely love writing through Gwyn's perspective. I always try to be as mindful and careful as I can when I write her POV and address her trauma, but if there's anything you feel could be done differently, please let me know! :) and thank you so much for reading. Your support means everything to me <3

HEY GIRLS @katiebellf @starbornsinger @madie2200 check out my new chapter!!! and if you wanted to be tagged on this too, feel free to comment ;)

A few days passed by, and Gwyn could say she was already feeling at home in the House of Wind. She continued attending the services at dawn, pushing herself at training, then having lunch with Nesta, Cassian and sometimes Azriel, and at last spending her habitual hours in the library doing research work for Merrill before returning to the House. It was a routine she was kind of used to by now, and it made her happy.

She hadn’t been to Velaris after dinner with the Inner Circle and was secretly growing impatient to visit it again. She was planning to go shopping with Nesta and Emerie, but didn’t summon courage enough to invite them. Something about strolling around the city streets at dusk made her a bit nervous. Although she didn’t feel like admitting it out loud.

She was proud of herself, because she truly felt she was overcoming her fears. These last months were ones of a slow, but effective healing journey. She felt herself being less intimidated around others, mostly males like Cassian and Azriel. Rhysand was more distant, but even the worry she felt at dinner that night had faded. She saw Azriel almost every day and nothing seemed to have changed between them; so she believed in Rhys’s word when he promised her not to tell him.

Something caught her eye and interrupted her line of thought. She was sitting in a comfortable armchair by the fireplace at the House’s private library after a particularly exhausting afternoon, trying to read a not-too-smutty book Emerie had lent her, and immediately raised her head from the shadow near her feet to the door, where Azriel stood by.

“How long have you been there?” She asked and quietly hoped her blushed cheeks went unnoticed by him.

Surprisingly enough, sharing a hallway with Azriel didn’t mean they saw more of each other. He was so quiet she couldn’t detect his presence in his room, and usually she woke up before sunrise, so they didn’t meet each other until breakfast. A part of Gwyn couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated by that.

“Not much.” He said, stepping into the library. She motioned him to seat on the armchair across from hers, and so he did. “Actually, I just came here to ask you something.”

Oh.

She felt something flunk in her chest; it’s been a while since they last met at the training ring late at night, and that was because lately her nightmares were keeping themselves at bay. She remembered their last encounter, his hazel eyes shining under the moonlight as he stared at her from across the room, and they sparred in silence almost until the time of her service.

He didn’t seem different around her, although she could notice him staring at her sometimes with a glimpse of emotion in his eyes. And she felt she was becoming better at hiding her feelings when near him; oddly, something had calmed inside her. That urge and nervousness weren’t the first things to come to mind anymore, and she was content to enjoy their friendship. At least that’s what she kept telling to herself. There were some nights in which her dreams were filled with cedar scent, a pair of hazel eyes looking at her intensely, his beautiful hands on her hair…

She shook her head slightly and forced herself to meet his stare, the firelight making his face look golden; an elegant, handsome angel staring straight at her.

“What is it?”

“I wanted to know if…” His throat bobbed once, and she couldn’t help noticing he seemed nervous. Him, the Shadowsinger, nervous. He rephrased it, staring intently at the fire.

“The Velaris Philharmonic Orchestra will be performing tomorrow. They were in a long undetermined hiatus during the last fifty years, and now they’re back.” His brows furrowed, eyes filled with anger at what had caused it. “I used to go there every other night. And I was wondering… Since you said you’re meaning to leave the House more often, if we, well…”

She tried to suppress her chuckle at the way he fought to find the words. Instead, there was a timid smile on her face when she hesitantly interrupted him:

“Are you asking me… To come with you?”

He finally tore his stare away from the fire to meet her; those hazel eyes filled with something resembling hope.

“Would you like to?”

And damn her if his smile didn’t make her heart and her chest heat up when she responded:

“I would. Very much.”

Suddenly the room felt smaller. She swore the lights dimmed a bit, and all she could think and see was the silhouette of his face and his eyes. Those eyes that’d seen so much, endured so much, and now looked at her, as if trying to vocalize something without saying anything at all. They stayed like that, lost in each other for what seemed like eons, before he cleared his throat.

“So… I’ll let you to your book, then.”

Those words sounded forced, as if he didn’t in fact want to leave. She gave him a smile, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes. Stay.

His shadows were all around her now, gently circling her shoulders.

Just as he meant to leave the room, she found herself stating:

“I’m glad you listened to it. What I said about restraining them.” She gestured with her head towards the shadows, and reached for one with her finger. The tendril seemed happy to be touched and wrapped itself in her hand, to what she giggled. “I really like them, you know.”

When she looked up to Azriel, he had a cryptic look on his face, watching in wonder the interaction in front of him.

“They like you too.” His voice was filled with a hidden emotion, and his eyes twinkled.

She smiled at him. “You can stay here for a little while, if you want. I’m not going to bed for a couple hours yet, and I must admit I’m not completely captivated by this novel.”

Even though he had that cool, unreadable mask on almost all the time, she could still see him restraining his surprise. And the way his lips tugged upward told her she was right to assume he didn’t want to leave just yet.

“What’s it about?” He asked while sitting again.

“Well” She skimmed distractedly through the pages, calming her racing heart. “She is a healer from a land up in the North, and he is a tradesman from the South. There’s a curse that connected them since birth, but they don’t know it yet. And that’s what leads them towards one another, the urge to break this curse.” She traced the title, reading the name of the author. “It’s good, just not as good as Diane.”

She casted him an amused look as he laughed quietly at her criticism, shaking his head:

“Because no one will ever compare to her.”

“Never.” She agreed dramatically, and his laugh turned into a grin. “Emerie and Nesta think I’m exaggerating, but I mean it. I must have read her books like ten times by now.”

His eyebrows shot up, clearly interested. “She must be great then.”

“Wait a second. Five hundred years and you’ve never read her?” Gwyn couldn’t hide her astonishment as she gasped.

“Why is that such a surprise?” He leaned back in his chair, that small smile never fading from his face.

“Well, is just… You had plenty of time.” She teased.

“My life is busier than you might think, Berdara.”

“Well, be that as it may, this can no longer go on. You must read it.”

Before he could answer, she called the House to deliver her the stack of Gadot’s novels that were in her bedroom. Her private collection.

“Start by this one” She handed him a copy of And So the Story Goes, that had magically appeared in the table between them “This is my favorite.”

He reached for the book, and she watched as he flipped through the pages. She would admit that sight made her heart flutter once again. The book she had ever since she was little, that she read alongside Catrin, one of the only things she asked Mor to grab her after everything. Its edges were worn, some pages marked and underlined. To have Azriel hold it in his hands…

“You can read it at your own pace. And don’t worry, I have a spare” She showed him the copy Diane had signed her, a newer edition, that beautiful inscription that she knew it by heart in its front page.

I hope you find out what you knew all along.

“I can see you read it a lot.” He stated, musing through the pages and stopping at some passages.

She leaned forward to slap his arm. “What are you doing? Start at the beginning!”

He laughed out loud at her exclamation, his eyes meeting hers.

“Ok, bossy. I definitely will.”

After a few hours of talking and laughing together, she felt the tiredness taking the best of her.

“Goodnight, Az.” She said when she stopped by the door. Even during their conversation, he still held the book, keeping it close to his chest.

“See you tomorrow, Gwyn” She had just turned away when she heard him. “And thank you.”

She looked at him over her shoulder and saw him lifting the book. “Anytime.”

And when she finally shut the door of her bedroom, she couldn’t stop the light feeling on her chest.

***

On the next day, she knocked on Nesta’s door. It was the afternoon, and both Cassian and Azriel were out paying one of their routine visits to the Illyrian camps.

That morning, at service, Gwyn felt like she was flying. She sang like those ancient hymns were all that was left in the world. Even some other Priestesses had commented on that after it was over. And at practice, she couldn’t help her grin when she spotted Azriel across the training ring. And couldn’t help the blush that crept onto her cheeks when he almost immediately turned his head to her, the corner of his lips tugging upward.

She woke up thinking about their meeting at the library, their casual conversation and bantering. She didn’t feel an ounce of discomfort when they were together; everything was so easy. He knew her, her story; he had saved her, for Mother’s sake, and he didn’t make her feel like porcelain, like one blow could shatter her.

Instead, she felt braver and confident when he was around. They could still talk and laugh together as if they hadn’t shared that terrible experience in the past. Mindful of each other’s traumas, indeed, but... It still was light. Trustful. She hoped he’d read the book; she could secretly picture his eyes flipping through her markings and notes. She wanted him to know that part of her.

“Come in” Nesta said from within, interrupting Gwyn’s reverie.

She opened the door, only to find her sister sitting comfortably in an armchair by the window, book in hand and a cup of tea in another. Her training leathers were displayed on the bed, as she thought of training afterwards.

“Hey” Gwyn greeted. She didn’t know where to start.

Aside from Rhys, no one was aware of her recent discovery about the mating bond. Of course, that didn’t stop her sisters from smirking mischievously whenever Azriel was around, at training or during meals. Gwyn knew both Nesta and Emerie had picked upon whatever she was feeling towards him, but they were kind enough not to inquire in public.

“What’s going on?” Her brows furrowed as she got up of her chair.

“Nothing.” Gwyn took in a deep breath. Out with it, Berdara. “I was wondering if you could borrow me a dress.”

Nesta squinted her eyes, and raised an eyebrow as a slow smile started to appear on her face. Cunning, as ever. “May I ask what for?”

Gwyn herself didn’t know. When she found herself alone with Azriel for a moment during training, she had asked him what outfit would be suit for the occasion. He just shrugged with a half-smile, and reassured her she didn’t have to worry about it. But even so, she wanted to look decent for a night out.

“I’m going to Velaris tonight.”

Nesta gasped quietly, and Gwyn could see her eyes were shining with pride. “Alone?”

“No.” Gwyn went to sit at the trunk by the bed. Seeing that Nesta was still staring at her with that knowing smile, she added “Azriel’s taking me to see the Velaris Philarmonic Orchestra.”

She watched as her sister gave her a broad smile, and couldn’t help the blush on her cheeks. “What?”

“Nothing” Nesta hummed back, as she opened the doors to her wardrobe. “Just the two of you?”

Gwyn nodded, standing up and joining her sister in front of her rack full of clothes. So, so many outfits, a myriad compared to Gwyn’s scattered ones. “I don’t know what one’s supposed to wear to the theater. Even less so to watch a live orchestra.”

Nesta huffed a laugh, but her eyes were fixed on the garments in front of them as she scrolled through her various dresses. “Well, I do.”

They spent the next few seconds in silence, as her sister skillfully searched through fabrics. Strangely enough, Gwyn didn’t feel as nervous to have told her as she thought she would. But she was certain Nesta was only waiting for the right moment to fill her with questions.

“Oh, wait. I know.” She passed Gwyn and went to the trunk by that king-sized bed she shared with Cassian. The thought of her sister and her mate didn’t make Gwyn blush the way she once used to, but now the predominant feeling was that she could have that, perhaps. One day. That thought alone made her stomach flutter.

“Here” Nesta drew a burgundy midi dress out of the trunk. “Try this on.”

The V-necked laced bodice wasn’t too tight around the waist, and it had a light and also lacey skirt that draped around her knees, showcasing her legs. It was modest, and yet delicate and elegant.

When Gwyn looked at herself in the mirror, Nesta standing behind her as she zipped her up, she was breathless. It’s been a long, long time since she wore a dress, and this one fitted her perfectly. Alongside with the necklace, her freckled skin and hair, it made her feel… Beautiful. Stunning, even.

“You look splendid” Nesta stared at her through the mirror.

“Thank you.” She turned to her friend, who grabbed her arms and hugged her. She could see she was having fun.

“Do you have shoes to match this?”

Gwyn tilted her head.

“I could use my flats.”

Her sister shook her head, and reached for a matching pair of ankle-strapped scarpin heels under her bed. “Now there you go.”

Suddenly Gwyn felt an urge to cry. She was so happy to count with her sisters at moments like these. It made her excited for the ones to come.

“Hey” Nesta seemed to notice her tearful eyes, and urged her to sit next to her by the bed “Are you ok?”

She nodded and sighed. “I’m just… Happy. I’m nervous, but it feels good to know you girls have my back.”

“You know, Gwyn” Nesta grabbed her hand, her tone gentle. “I was going to say that you didn’t have to do this if you didn’t feel like it, that Azriel would understand…”

The thought of her declining his invitation made her heart ache. She didn’t once consider it; she was just glad to be spending time with him. That hewanted to spend time with her. Just as she opened her mouth to state that, her sister went on:

“But I can see that you want to do this. And I just wanted to let you know that I’m happy for you. And I can’t wait to know all about it when you get back.”

Gwyn squeezed her hand and gave her a cheeky grin:

“I’m excited, Nes.” Her words were barely a whisper as she confided.

“As you should. Now go” She nudged towards the door, smiling. “Go have some fun.”

[ex-vengeancedemon]

Hey Jealousy

One shot btvs fanfic inspired by this post by @trulyanenchantedrose

Summary: A what-if scenario where in episode 2x01 When She Was Bad, Buffy dances with Spike instead of Xander to make Angel jealous.

Edit: I wrote another version of this fic from Spike's POV called "Payback and Performances"

Read below or on ao3

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Buffy stood in front of her mirror examining the little black dress she had purchased over the summer with something like indifference. It would do for a night out at the Bronze with Xander and Willow. A real head turner. She caught herself wondering briefly if Angel might be there. Not that it mattered. He was just another vampire. And she was the slayer. A match made by some god with a sick sense of irony.

Without bothering to tell her mom where she was going, she grabbed her coat and marched out of the house towards the Bronze. It was a nice night for a walk. As she walked passed the cemetery, she pointedly avoided looking in the direction of the Master's grave. Out of sight, out of mind. Tonight was for letting loose and living life to the fullest. She had to enjoy it while it lasted. It probably wouldn't last long. She had already cheated death once and wasn't expecting any more freebies.

She was surprised when she found herself standing in front of the Bronze with its characteristic illuminated sign. The walk had gone quicker than she had anticipated. She barely even remembered it. It was difficult to stay grounded lately. She often caught herself drifting... and she wasn't sure if returning to Sunnydale had improved the situation. Seeing everyone again, it was a lot to handle all at once. They all wanted her to be fine, to act normal. As if she didn't want that too.

Buffy steeled herself and took a deep breath. She could do this. Whatever fresh hell was thrown her way, she could handle it. She opened the door and entered the Bronze with her head held high and a bravado she found suited to the occasion. Cibo Matto had just started up a new song and the Bronze was packed with people swaying and dancing to the beat. Buffy shrugged off her coat and began to sway in time with the music as she started towards Willow and Xander's table. Of course, they were just sitting there. They never seemed able to make a move without her.

Before she could make it more than five steps through the door, she was intercepted by none other than her old flame, Angel. If he wasn't a centuries old vampire with seemingly constant ominous warnings, she might think he was stalking her. Despite her outward apathy, her mind flashed back to the previous night when he had visited her room. He had said he missed her. She pushed the thought down.

"Hi," Buffy said, raising her eyebrows at him in a sort of question.

"Hi," Angel replied.

He seemed a bit nervous, looking down at the ground. Looking anywhere but her eyes. Figures.

"So, is there danger at the Bronze?" she drawled. "Should I beware?"

Angel sighed and shook his head. "I can't help thinking I've done something to make you angry. And that bothers me more than I'd like."

Was he talking about last night? Or right now? She wasn't angry, but if he carried on like this she might start to be. What did he mean by 'bothers me more than I'd like'? As if liking her was some kind of travesty that he wished he could have avoided.

Buffy shrugged. "I'm not angry. I don't know where that comes from."

Angel seemed unconvinced. Why was it so difficult to get people to take you at your word?

"What are you afraid of?" he persisted. "Me? Us?"

Buffy scoffed. "Could you contemplate getting over yourself for a second? There is no us." She shook her head and gave an exasperated laugh. "Look, Angel, I'm sorry if I was supposed to spend the summer mooning over you, but I didn't."

She thought she could see something like hurt on his face, but she didn't let up.

"I moved on," Buffy continued. Then, as she brushed passed him, she added for good measure, "To the living."

As if to prove her point, Buffy abruptly changed course, heading away from Xander and Willow and towards the dance floor. She caught her friends' puzzled expressions, but she ignored them. She could talk to them later. Or not. If not tonight, then tomorrow. They always seemed to be around. As unavoidable as Angel. Angel who was still watching her every move. What was the saying? We always want what we can't have?

Buffy felt multiple pairs of eyes on her as she scanned the dance floor. The dress was a success then. File that away for later. Finally she settled on a pair of eyes that had been watching her curiously from the edge of the dance floor. He was perfect. Bleached hair with a long black leather jacket, all he was missing was the studs for the punk-rock vibe. He looked like she felt: dangerous and out for trouble. It didn't hurt that he had a face that screamed "if looks could kill". That was important. But this wasn't retaliation, Buffy told herself, it was fun. It wasn't about Angel. It was about having a good time, and forgetting about-

Buffy strode up to the stranger as a bemused expression flickered across his features. Or maybe it was alarm? She couldn't really be sure. The lighting was dim.

"And just what can I do for you?" the stranger asked, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

He had a British accent. Kind of like Giles. Only not like Giles. God, she really didn't want to be comparing him to Giles right now. She didn't want to be thinking of Giles at all. Or of vampires. Or slaying or any of it.

Buffy tilted her head in her best attempt at looking flirtatious. "Well this is a dance floor. Dance with me."

The stranger's eyes widened slightly and he let out a low chuckle. "Who am I to refuse a lady?"

Buffy took his hand and pulled him out into the center of the dance floor. No point in having fun if no one could see it. She spotted Angel still standing at the back out of her peripheral vision. Good. Maybe this would be what he needed to move on. She shoved down the sharp pain that thought caused.

Spinning around to face her new dance partner, Buffy slowly raised her hands above her head and began swaying her hips to the music. It was a slow, sultry song, which was perfect for all intents and purposes. Her partner placed his hands on her waist and pulled her closer as he moved along with her.

He leaned in closer to her ear and said, "Name's Spike."

"I don't remember asking," Buffy replied, moving her arms down over his head.

What kind of name was Spike anyway? Guess it matched his general vibe.

Spike just grinned back and pulled her flush against him. "Oh you're a fiery one. I like it. Got to appreciate a girl with flair."

Buffy locked eyes with him, holding his gaze just a bit too long. She suddenly felt very exposed. Like she had been caught doing something she shouldn't. She hastily turned around with her back facing Spike, wrapping his arms back around her waist as she did so.

He leaned down next to her ear and asked, "Is that your beau over there?"

"What?" Buffy asked, startled out of an almost trace-like state.

Even though she had asked who he was referring to, she knew he meant Angel. She had been watching him discreetly, sneaking glances here and there. At the moment, Angel's face was pale - even more so than usual - and drawn. If she had wanted to get under his skin, it looked like she was succeeding.

"The git you've been eyeing," Spike replied. She could feel him smirk against her ear. "What'd he do to merit this little show?"

Buffy reached up and put her hand behind his head, moving slowly down and then back up again. Spike's hands traced lightly along the curves of her body, barely concealed under the thin layer of fabric. She was keenly aware of his every move. Just as she was keenly aware of their observers. Even Willow and Xander had begun to gape.

As she moved his head back down to her neck, she answered, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Spike turned her around and placed his arms on her shoulders, locking his hands behind her. "Bloody right I would. But, I'll settle for evening the score. Want to give him a real show?"

He took her chin between his thumb and index finger and lifted her head up slightly. This time when they locked eyes, Buffy didn't look away. Taking that as an invitation, Spike leaned down and kissed her. The kiss started out slow but quickly deepened in a way familiar to the desperate and afraid. She shivered slightly as his hand traced up her spine. She hoped Angel was watching. She hoped they all were. She was fine. Perfectly fine.

Buffy pulled away, her skin slightly flushed, as the song came to an end. "Guess that's curtains."

"A gentleman would walk a lady home," Spike replied, still holding onto her waist.

"Are you a gentleman?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he replied, mimicking her earlier line.

He raised an eyebrow at her and offered her his arm. She hesitated for a moment before accepting it. It was only a walk. And leaving with Spike was sure to get a reaction out of- Nobody. It didn't matter.

She caught Spike winking at Angel as they walked to the door. Now that might be a bit much, but she elected to ignore it for now. She glanced back at Angel one last time, and was startled to find him glowering after her. She had expected some emotion from him, yes. But she hadn't thought it'd be anger. Why wouldn't it be? a little voice in her head whispered. He was a vampire. Anger was kind of the default.

Buffy and Spike had only gotten maybe 10 yards outside the Bronze when Buffy heard the metal door slam open.

Angel came rushing out and yelled after her. "Buffy!"

Spike took his hand back from Buffy and gave her a charming smile. "Well, I think that's my cue."

With that, he walked off - in no apparent hurry - with his hands in his pockets, leaving a bewildered Buffy behind him. Angel had broken out into a sprint and was barreling toward her and the whole situation seemed almost comical.

"Angel?" Buffy asked, giving him an irritated look. "What the hell?"

Spike raised an arm up and waved without looking back. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you around, Slayer!"

The blood rushed out of Buffy's face and her jaw clenched. How could he know that?

"Oh, and Angel?" Spike said, turning around and continuing to walk away backwards. "Your girl? Delicious."

He gave one last satisfied grin before disappearing around the corner.

Angel ran up next to her and stopped. Buffy wasn't sure she knew what to say. Angel wasn't saying anything. He was just glaring after Spike.

"Who the hell was that?" Buffy finally asked him.

-----

Note: Had to write it a bit out of character since the timing is so early in the seasons. My excuse for Angel not doing anything immediately is that Spike was threatening Buffy when she couldn't see and so Angel didn't do anything then. But since its written from Buffy's pov she wouldn't have known. Anyway, enjoy!

[oftenderweapons]

Love talk - Yoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten)

Wordcount: 10k words

Genre: fluff, smut

Rating: 18+

Hello bunnies! I know you’ve been streaming Dynamite (I’m doing so as I revise and edit). I decided to postpone publishing the piece, so that we can focus on streaming and then as soon as the 24h are over and you’re well-rested you’re hopefully all ready for this 😏

Basically, I’ll do a quick recap of Yoongi and Kitten’s sliver of backstory. They’ve been dating for a couple months on again off again (he’s quite busy with schedule) and have been on several dates, however the situation escalates when the two start playing a steamy late-night after-date 20 questions game.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Consumption of alcohol. Swearing. This is smutty, especially in the end. This is intended for an adult public. Some of the themes are only discussed by the characters. Strong language, alcohol consumption, masturbation both male and female receiving, same for oral (feat. face riding). Mild voyeurism/exhibitionism, quite detailed description of sexual positions and fantasies, discussion on STDs, mentions of previous relationships and past traumas (abusive boyfriend and one very sorry fuck). Choking, breast worship, mentions of restrictions, sensation play and switch Yoongi. This should be all. Also, watch Kitten thirst for Yoongi’s hands (and tongue. and lips. and all the rest of Yoongi) for 10k words. (On a second note, watch Yoongi drool -- only metaphorically, much to his dismay -- over Kitten’s tits).

Yeah, it’s date 10 and these two haven’t kissed yet, I somehow think that Yoongi is the kind of guy who would wait till he’s dying and then just pounce. Also these two just want to jump each other’s bones and I can’t wait for you to see them in Illicit Affairs (definitely my 2nd favourite couple -- ‘cause Joon will be A Lot™)

Wordcount is around 10k.

Since I need to start planning next scenarios, I need you to help me choose the theme, you can vote at the link in my bio!

Here is my masterlist, enjoy 💜

“God, what’s with the weather tonight?”

“Man, this is a nightmare, get in quick.” The arm around your shoulder loosened a little as he let you move quickly from under his umbrella to the passenger seat of his car. As you got comfortable and tried to fix your hair and makeup a little, he walked around the car, opening the driver’s door, sliding in quickly and, with a sleight of hand, shaking the umbrella, closing it and smashing the door shut as fast as possible.

“Damn it.” He moved the soaked object at the foot of the backseat, stretching in the process with a groan.

You set with your hands pressed together, shoved innocently between your thighs.

This was your tenth date with Yoongi and you were smitten over him. Also, horny, but that’s for another moment. You’d been dating without commitment for about two months, the timing absolutely awful – he was in the middle of promotion with the group – but he had been too hung up on you to wait. He had wanted to do things properly, but after two weeks of stalking your profiles on social networks and making a fool of himself anytime you accidentally met, he decided he needed to act, and quickly so.

You went for a coffee once, then he brought you lunch, then you started with your sneaky dates at the cinema, walks at Han river late at night and dark and discreet bars dominating the rooftops of Seoul.

But the cinema was your most recurrent. You were just back from one of your dates at your go-to theatre, at two a.m, the late night show allowing him enough privacy to sneak around and protect you from any prying eyes.

He started the car and asked if you needed the AC on. “You have goosebumps on your arms.” He commented.

He is attentive. And caring. Which really makes you want to jump him. But again, digressing.

“No, thank you, Yoongi.” You replied kindly.

“Okay.” Moving out of the parking lot he started driving to your house, stopping at a couple traffic lights, looking at you as he waited. You looked back at him, smiling affectionately. He took your hand, holding it and warming it up in between his.

“Who would believe it’s September, it feels at least November out there.” You commented, feeling extremely dumb in discussing the weather, but too afraid of letting your mind delve in more mature or appropriate topics.  

“Sure you’re okay?” He asked, as he placed your hand back, the lights turning green.

“Yeah.” You risked evaporation, looking at his focused expression as he drove. Could you believe he hadn’t kissed you yet? No. Could you imagine why he hadn’t done that yet? Hell, no. You had squeezed your brains trying to imagine why he hadn’t kissed you while at the same time keeping on asking you out, date after date.

The night lights reflected beautifully on his delicate features, on his cute nose and his round and soft cheekbones, on his pouty, blatantly soft, deliriously pink, wildly wanted lips, on his flashy silver watch, on his sparkly, delicate necklace, on his small and sober earrings. You wanted him. Your heart skipped a beat at the way your body and mind aligned in that statement. The pressure you felt within you was a living, beating, ravenous thing, enlarging its size like a bird puffing its feathers.

His hands on the wheel were extraordinarily pale and sturdy, skeletrical but also undoubtedly strong. You wanted them on you, grabbing and groping your flesh. And the way he seemed to chew on his lower lip, opening and closing his mouth in that gesture which is so his, as if he were tasting wine or coffee.

You didn’t even realise you had arrived at your place, since you were so caught in staring at him. “A picture will last longer, Kitten.” He teased.

You blushed, turning quickly to look out your window.

“Oh, you’re shy now...” He smirked. “Go figure, I had a proposition for you.” He commented, almost with disinterest, his mouth speaking through a fake pout, the corners of it turned downward.

“I’m curious.” You said, turning to him.

“I don’t wanna let go of you yet.” He admitted, catching your hand again. “I’ll be away for ten days. With the guys. We’re leaving tomorrow evening.” He explained. “Tonight is my last available moment with you and I know it’s two in the morning and all the rest, but I want to spend more time with you.”

You raised your eyebrows, surprised. “Do you mean…?” You hoped he had somehow sensed your longing. He seemed to have a direct line to your brain, reading you in a way that scared you too often.

He grinned. “I mean, whatever comes from this. Just talking. Just watching you as we talk. It’s not the same over the phone.” He said with a frown.

You nodded. “Do you wanna talk here? Would you like to come upstairs?” You asked, trying to feel the mood.

He bit his lip and laced his fingers together, placing them between his knees and hunching his back. “You see, I kinda wanted to take this to my place. But I promise you I won’t make a move. It’s really just talking.”

Please, do make a move. You silently begged – although you were too shy to actually speak.

“Yeah, nice. Okay.” You replied with a happy smile.

“It’s okay if you want to stay here. Or go upstairs. It’s just that I really wanted to see you at home.”

The tenderness of his domesticity killed that hunger rumbling in your insides and made your head float up high, with cute pink clouds and angels singing and stars glimmering.

This is a crush.

“Show me your crib, kitty cat.” You joked. He laughed adorably at that. He looked radiant.

As he started driving to his place you got back to your thirsting over him, this time openly oogling at his confident charm, at the way he looked so used to all of this. The way he lead you out of the car in the underground parking lot of the residence, the way he locked the car and punched in his passcode to the apartment.

“Here’s the crib, kitty cat.” He taunted right back.

The place looked immaculate. Spot on. Tidy. Neat. A bit cold but his. And it smelled so good. Like cinnamon and fir. Like a cosy, winter cabin. You wanted a blanket and a hot chocolate and a Christmas tree. You wanted him in an ugly turtleneck jumper and flannel sweats and furry slippers.

You wanted home.

“It feels very nice in here, Yoongi.” You couldn’t stop looking around, drinking in every small detail. You understood why he had wanted you here. He wanted to see if you could fit here.

He noticed you did.

“I got these, for you.” He said, offering you a pair of slippers, gesturing for you to take off your shoes as he did the same. He didn’t need to ask twice.

He led you through a quick tour of the house, moving quickly away from his most private places – the bedroom and the studio. You understood his reserve on those, giving his hand a quick squeeze in understanding.

“Finally, the living room.” He explained as he switched on the lights illuminating a large space with a thick cream carpet covering the cold white marble, the room completely dominated by a black leather couch. It looked very traditional and “grandpa”. It really resembled him. “Might as well settle in, we’re gonna be here for a while. Want to drink something?” He asked.

You. “What do you have in mind?” You asked, shutting up your inner slut.

“Well, I was thinking I wanted to do that ‘get-to-know-each-other’ kind of thing.” He said, opening a cabinet in the console under the gigantic tv. In the meantime ha started a slow rap playlist from his phone. “I know this will sound like usual fuckboy who’s trying to make a move, but I have no intention of getting you drunk. I’ll drink, and I promise I’ll be perfectly responsible for my actions, but you don’t have to drink or do anything you don’t want to.” He said, putting some whisky on the coffee table together with two tumblers.

However, you opened the bottle and poured some alcohol first in his glass and then in yours. “Now it’s me the one with a proposition, mr. Min.” You cocked your head playfully. “We play twenty questions. In turns we will ask twenty questions to each other. If you don’t want to answer you pass and drink.” You explained quickly.

“Okay. Let’s get it, Kitten.” He said with a smirk, as both of you sat down at the two sides of the L-shaped sofa, near the corner. “You start, ____.”

“Warm up round, yeah?” You asked.

“Play your advantage carefully.” He suggested.

You nodded, quickly leaving aside dumb and obvious questions, but still going for an innocent one. “How many exes do you have?”

“Okay, nice. Well. I’ve “officially” had three girlfriends and two flings. All the relationships ended because of my job and lifestyle.” He offered you a free piece of information. He didn’t mind anyway. “My turn?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m satisfied.” You replied. “For now.”

He grinned devilishly. “What about your exes?”

You nodded as if expecting the question. “Officially one. It was a long, painful relationship. I’ve had flings though. Maybe eight or nine occasional partners.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Okay. I really didn’t expect that but it’s cool to me.” He said. He really didn’t mind. You’re a woman in her midtwenties, and you have the freedom to do what you want with your body. “Next.”

You looked down and toyed with your fingers, then looked up with a curious smile and gleaming mischief in your eyes. “I’ve gotta ask. When was your first time?”

He smiled. “I was nineteen. I had been dating this girl for a few months. We did it on my birthday. She was two years older than me, showed me the ropes. But even if I really liked her, it all got to hell when we debuted. She was only in it for the fact that I was an idol, she wanted an in, I think. Changed her mind when she realised I was sort of a loser.”

“Well, look at that loser now.” You said, looking him up and down and licking your lip.

He laughed embarrassed.

“I won’t do that mistake.” You promised, this time with a serious expression.

“We’ll see.” He commented, looking you up and down himself. God, he was getting flirty. A pleasured shiver ran down your spine. It wasn’t the cold. “My turn. When did you do it for the first time?”

Again you nodded. “I was with a childhood friend. It wasn’t a relationship. Just, we thought it was a good idea to do that together, because we knew each other and we trusted each other. It was nice. It felt nice. It was the summer after our senior year in high school. He moved out for university afterwards and we lost each other. But it’s a good memory, I must say.” You reminisced fondly. “No unrequited feelings, though.” You clarified, afraid that he would misunderstand.

“Okay. I’m glad it’s a good memory. I was afraid that the painful ex had been your first.” He commented, leaning towards you slightly.

“No, thank fuck.” You muttered. “Let’s move on, yeah?”

He nodded.

“I kinda have to ask this one, out of curiosity and for personal reasons. Have you ever been tested for STDs?”

He blinked and crossed his legs. “I have. It’s part of my medical check-ins. Of course the tests are more for... completeness, so to say, rather than actual need. My sex life is not that active, and when it is, I always use protection. I’m quite obsessed with it, to be honest.” He explained, his defensive stance opening up. He answered thoroughly, not even thinking of how much he was offering freely. “Do you mind me asking the same question?”

“Not at all. I also got tested. After my relationship I had to. My ex wasn’t very faithful.” You replied, blushing. “During all my flings I’ve always used protection except once. I was a bit dumb back then.” You admitted, wincing painfully. “And after my last one I got tested. He didn’t make me feel like a condom was safe enough. Thank God, everything is absolutely fine and I’m clean.”

“Oh, yeah, same here.” He offered back, with a shy laugh. “Ready for question three?”

“Yeah. I’ve got to ask one last question, for my peace of mind. Do you expect monogamy from me?” You asked.

“Do you?” He deflected.

You smiled “I asked you, Yoongi. Do you want me to date you exclusively?”

“Well I do. Do you? Want to date just me? I mean.” He asked.

“Yes, I will date you exclusively if you’re dating me exclusively.” You replied, matter-of-factly.

He shook his head, incredulous. “Of course I’m dating only you.” He murmured with a pout. “Why would I be seeing someone else?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged.

“Well, I’m strictly monogamous, ____. I’m giving you my undivided attention and all my spare time. Don’t you ever doubt my commitment. I don’t cheat.” He seemed almost too serious for a moment.

“I needed to know.”

“It’s okay. But just because you got burned once, that doesn’t mean that everyone wants to burn you, okay? That’s a bastard’s move. I promise you I won’t.” He said. And for the first time you felt like believing in it.

You took a deep breath, then smiled. “Well, anyway, you already asked your question. So it’s my turn again.” You said, cheekily.

He huffed, offended, but let you go on.

“Time to start drinking, Yoongles.” You chanted in a sing-song voice.

He laughed silently. “We’ll see.”

“What’s your favourite position in bed?” You asked, trying to peek into his private life.

“Should I drink? At this? You have to seriously one-up your game, kitten.” He stared at you intently. He was desperately trying to keep a poker face to hide how much he wanted to climb over your body and hide in the crook of your neck, inhale your sweet scent, which was enhanced by the rain that had hit you earlier.

“I’m quite traditional. I like anything that allows me to see the face of my partner. So missionary, cowgirl and lotus. When I’m a bit angsty I go for doggy. Spoons is another one I like – and also an awfully underrated one. My past lovers all said that the angle is amazing. It’s very rewarding.” Again, he gave you more than what you asked for. He wanted you to know these random things about him. He was telling you everything he wanted you to know. Who cares about vulnerability and offering too much? His aim was to earn your trust. And for you to repay his prodigality in kind. He wanted you to open up and overshare things about yourself. He wanted to know what to imagine when he thought about kissing you. When he thought of you while touching himself. He wanted to understand what he could ask, what you could possibly like, what scared you, what you needed comfort in.

At this point you were imagining him behind you, a hand at your waist, the other on your breast, his low moans caressing your ear, eyes closed, lost in bliss. Snap out of it, slut. “Wide choice.” You commented with an awkward chuckle, still trying to get back from your fantasy.

“It really depends on my partner, though. Whatever works for them.” He shrugged, his arms leaning forward, palms up. “My turn, right?” He waited for your confirmation.

“Off you go.”

“What’s your most frequent fantasy?” He muttered, shy but also sultry, his voice a low rumble.

You inhaled deeply, noticing how close he had got to what you were thinking a few seconds ago. “Dammit, I might drink.” You looked at the glass, almost lunging for it. But it was a feint. ”Actually lately I’ve been thinking a lot about having sex in the kitchen.”

Fuck. He was out. He licked his lip. He almost thought you were done with your confession, but you went on.

“Being pushed up against the counter and bent over. Or being lifted up and sat on the counter. Having someone tease me while I’m spread on the table. Or having to keep a straight face while someone is toying with me underneath the table.” You scratched your cheek, “You pick.” You whispered slightly embarrassed, laying your hands on your cheekbones in an attempt to calm down your blush.

He lifted the glass. He needed to calm down.

When you noticed his gesture you sucked your lips in, trying to hide a smug grin.

“Are you proud of getting under my skin, Kitten?” He asked.

“Yes, of course.” You replied immediately.

“Well done, ____.” The way he almost moaned your name made your blood soar to your ear. “Your turn, kitty.”

“Are you more on the dominant or submissive side?” You asked. You honestly couldn’t figure this out. He showed small signs leaning towards both sides. He was traditionally courteous, giving you attention and taking care of you, paying for food and using his body language to show you were taken, that you weren’t hanging out with a friend or a relative, but a possible love interest. At the same time, he never initiated openly intimate contact, rather he waited for you to initiate. And he had never kissed you, nor shown any interest in doing so.

“I’m leaning dom. But it’s a slight preference. It has a lot to do with my partner’s preferences. I’ve both dommed and subbed in the past. I like the protective, possessive side of domming, but I also like the receiving, caring side of subbing. Still I enjoy the control that comes from being more dominant. I would say it’s 65 to 35 for domming.”

You nodded. That sounded good. “That’s nice. I’m also a bit in the middle. Leaning sub, though.” It felt natural replying. It felt like he should know.

“Thank you for giving that up.” He smiled, warming up to you, trying to associate a positive outcome to your sharing personal information about yourself. “Now, about my question.” He fumbled a bit in his head, trying to go for something intimate, but not openly sexual. “Okay, if you could kiss any part of your significant other but their face, what would it be?”

You smiled at the cute question. Because you honestly didn’t think of the sexual side of it. “Well, you said no face. Let me think... I think I really like giving hand kisses. They’re old school, but also so meaningful. They’re apparently platonic and innocent, but they have that side of worship and adoration that just makes me weak.” You hugged yourself, growing smitten at the thought.

He cocked his head to the side, looking at you with a curious and endeared expression.

“I also like kissing on the chest, like the breastbone, like the very center of the chest. Another not openly sexual spot, but I think it’s so tender. There’s the heart there, so it’s an especially fond spot. It sort of implies that the other person is hugging you, and that you’re laying your head on their chest.” You gushed, turning absolutely tender at the thought.

“What about the face?” He asked. He wanted your hand kisses. He wanted his fingers in your mouth, but that was not the point of the question at all and you were there smitten and cute and he should stop sexualising your cuteness outburst.

“Isn’t that another question?” You smirked, brow creasing.

“I should have asked for ‘anywhere but mouth’. Dumb me.” He huffed out and sulked.

“Then, forehead kisses. Underrated. Affectionate. Platonic but so tender. They go to a whole other level of intimacy.” You murmured, anything to stop his sulking, which was making your heart twist in your chest.

He grinned “Thank you.” He said, sinking his head between his shoulders.

“Well, pay up for it with question six. Thoughts on being vocal during sexy time?” You asked.

“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate one second. “Tendentially I’m not very verbal, and I try to keep it quiet. After such a long time with roommates, that’s kind of ingrained in me. Since I moved out, I kinda got more vocal, still not very verbal, but don’t expect pornographic feats.” He laughed, trying to relax the mood. “For my partner, any sound is a nice sound, as long as it’s not fake porn screaming. Subtle moaning and heavy breathing get me going quickly. Sensitive ears and stuff.” He scratched his neck. He was getting worked up again. Deep breath, boy. He scolded himself. “Anything else?”

You shook your head. “I’m good, thanks. Come on, shoot it.”

“It’s my number six?”

“Yes, champ. Go get it.” You teased cheekily.

He took in a big breath, licking his lips.

God, any more lip game and you’d throw yourself at him.

“Quick reminder: you have your drink there, just in case.” He offered. “Have you ever had a sex dream?”

Yes, about you and your dirty mouth and naughty hands. Wait, do dirty daydreams count?

He misunderstood your pause for a sign of reluctance. “Your drink is there, ____, waiting for you.” He reminded you.

You took your glass.

He nodded with little movements of his head, his expression neutral. That’s how much is too much, he though.

“I’ve dreamt of a classmate performing oral on me, once during that relationship I mentioned.” You admitted after taking a sip. Indeed, liquid courage. “I felt awful when I woke up. But it was an epiphany of sorts. It really made me understand how fucked up it all was. I don’t usually have those dreams.” You admitted. “Although I have dreamt random stuff about being naked and sexual feelings related to non-sexual contexts. Like once I dreamt I was canoeing on a rough river and I had this complicated torso bondage thing going on.” You laughed awkwardly.

Breast bondage. He was salivating. Maybe he was overthinking it but his mind had reserved a special spot for your breasts and maybe you didn’t even like nipple play that much and he was just making it up in his head. He closed his eyes to avoid checking your chest. He knew it would kill him. He was already dealing with a semi, elbows propped on his knees to hide it, hoping that the angle and the dim lights would help him. In a part of his brain he started building a folder about your previous relationship, saving there all the useful information. He sort of assumed, because of the dream you had recollected, that oral was some sort of hot topic during that time.

“Thank you, Kitten. I was afraid I had gone too far.”

“It’s okay. It’s just… I do wanna open up to you, but there’s hurtful stuff in the process.” You admitted. “I’m a bit fucked up.”

“We all are, sweetheart.” He reassured you, wanting nothing but to hold your hand, bring it to his heart, to his face, to his lips.

“My turn!” You smiled excitedly. “Sleeping habits: pjs, underwear or naked?”

“My sleeping habits or my preferences for my significant other?” He asked, trying to understand the answer you expected.

“Well, since you asked, both? For the kisses question earlier.” You reminded him.

“Nice, okay. I often sleep in pjs, especially when it gets colder. Naked feels nice too, I guess. Usually in the summer. When I’m on vacation.” He thought about the other one. How would he want you to sleep next to him? “I think I like my partner in very loose clothing. Oversized t-shirt and panties.” No bra, of course. He wants his hands to move there freely. “Naked sounds nice, but I don’t expect it. Some people feel vulnerable like that. My ex did.” He explained.

You understood, people are different, et cetera, but at the same time you asked yourself who wouldn’t want to sleep naked next to him. Feel him waking up, his warm skin enveloping you, his hands and mouth having free access to anything he craved, being completely laid bare for his whims and wants.

He noticed you were distracted and asked you his question right away.

When you noticed him staring you moved your head forward, waiting for him to speak.

“I’ve already asked, but maybe you were distracted, Kitten. How would you rate your sex drive from one to ten?” He asked. “To understand your needs, you see.”

You settled back against the back of the sofa, smiling and thinking. “I’d say around seven? Maybe eight? Like, usually I fool around about two or three times a week. Maybe four if I’m feeling very spoiled and needy.” You explained, fumbling around with the words. Yeah, you have toys and use them. Yeah, you masturbate and have an healthy sex life. Getting laid helps you deal with stress and mood swings, and endorphins help you keep your mood up, what’s wrong with that?

“Reasonable.” He didn’t comment on your fooling around. He might as well try to figure that out with the next question.

“What about you?” You asked.

“Is that your question, Kitten?” He waited for your confirmation. At your lively nod, he smiled. “I think I’m also around seven. As you said, I fool around about three to four times a week, when I’m quite relaxed. Sometimes I might get too tired and just avoid it entirely. Sometimes I’m tired but nervous and just do it more often but take shorter sessions. My question now.” He wanted to speed things up a little. It was around three now and he was afraid you wanted to bail on him.

“Go.” You said, already expecting this one to be bad.

“Do you use any sex toys?”

You laughed. “Yes. I do.”

“That’s it?” He asked, impatient to know more.

“When did this conversation become so explicit?” You asked.

“It was you who started it. But since I’m interested in knowing what you like and what you need, I realised I could use it to my advantage. I want to build intimacy with you before I start actually messing with you. I want our first time to feel right. I want to be able to laugh it out, were things to get messy. I want to know how to make you lose your mind beforehand.”

“If you say so…” You smiled suspicious but also curious. “I have a vibrator. A simple, practical one. Very old school, a bullet number. I also have a double density dildo. Expensive ordeal, but most definitely worth the money. And nipple suction cups. They’re still new. It’s a gift from myself I did a few months ago after a tough time at work.”

Fuck, he wanted to shove his head in a frozen lake. Could you? For real? He dragged his hands down his face.

“I wish I could see what’s going on in your head right now.” You wondered, faking aloofness. You were most likely ready to spread yourself on the coffee table and ask him to feast on you. “Now, about my question.” You followed your intuition. “What’s the body part that turns you on the most?”

He took a sip.

Don’t leave me hanging, Yoongi, please. “I like eye contact. Makes me understand the mood of my partner. It really turns me on when my partner maintains eye contact during sex. And I’m a breasts man. A hopeless one at that.” Again he shrugged in an “I can’t help it” kind of way.

You laid your head back against the sofa, looking at him with a knowing glance from under your lashes. “Interesting.” How long would it take to convince him to rip your shirt, slip the cups of your bra under your tits and suck your nipples until you orgasmed a couple times and fell asleep?

He took another sip. He was blushing. You liked your nipples sucked. And he liked sucking them. How convenient. “What’s a blatantly nonsexual thing that turns you on?” He asked, putting down the glass.

You did consider drinking. Could you handle him knowing such a sensitive piece of information? To hell with reason. “If you cup my face I’ll go smitten. Pair that up with a term of endearment or a little praise and I’m ready to drop to my knees.” You admitted.

“Praise kink?” He asked.

“No. I just get soft when someone cups my cheek. It makes me want to please them.” You admit.

“You know I’ll use this against you the moment you allow me to, right?” He states openly.

“Yes. I don’t mind.”

“Ask your question. It’s number ten baby.” He looked at his watch. “It’s late. Tell me when you want to go. I’ll understand.”

“I want to keep going.” You said. In more ways than one. “What’s something you want to try in bed?”

He stared off in the distance. “Oh. Let me think.” He started bouncing his leg. “Specifically in bed?”

“Yes.”

“I’m pretty sensitive. Maybe I would try something with blindfolds and restraints and sensation play? Like a feather or silk or something along that line.” He blushed and his his eyes in his hands.

“That sounds interesting. You want to try that on someone else or on yourself?” You asked for clarification.

“Myself. But I’m not opposed to doing that to someone else. Okay, let’s go on, I’m suffering here.” Inhale. Exhale. “Do you want to take it down a notch or keep going?”

“Keep going.” You murmured, afraid of what would come next, but also excited.

“Kitten, what makes you wet in seconds?” He whispered.

“You want to use this against me too?” You suspected.

“Only in your best interests.”

“Do you mean sexual things that turn me on innocent ones?” You pushed your head behind your ear.

“Do your thing, kitten.”

“On a more innocent level, I’m really sensitive to voices. I must say that yours unsettles me a little.” You confessed on a small note, with a tiny voice. “On a sexual level, I’m a mess for anything around my chest and neck. It makes me weak at the knees, it really drives me wild.”

“Touching, kissing, biting, sucking, licking…?” He suggested, fixing his posture.

“Yes to all.” You whispered, stretching to get the glass.

“Yeah.” He took a sip himself.

You gulped and put down the tumbler. “Do you ever willingly deepen your voice?”

“Yes. I did it for you, when we met. I saw you shiver when I did it accidentally, the first time we met at the office. So I did it again. I wanted you to notice me, I wanted to get you flustered.” He admitted shyly.

You sucked you lip. “You did. I was squeezing my legs so bad. You know when you stood up and said goodbye?”

“You were holding the edge of the table.” He remembered, nodding.

“My knees were wobbly. I don’t think my legs could hold me up.” You confessed, shaking your head timidly.

“Poor Kitten.” He said, hiding his mouth behind his hand. “Can I ask you a tricky question, sweetheart?”

As you nodded he huffed out a question, scared to ask. “Oral: giving or receiving.”

“Giving. Receiving is a difficult matter. My ex didn’t really… enjoy that.” You spoke vaguely.

He did a double take. “He didn’t eat you out?”

You shook your head gingerly.

“He was shit.” He muttered, pouring himself another shot. You were eleven questions in and he’d drunk only sips. And it was not because he didn’t answer but rather because he needed to calm his nerves before he jumped you.

“I guess so.” You giggled embarrassedly.

“Never?” he asked again, shocked. “Never in 3 years?”

“Never.” You confirmed. “He said the taste made him gross.”

“Gross… And he wanted you to suck him, quite obviously.”

“I didn’t mind. I like the view”. You admitted with a playful gleam in your eyes.

He saved that for later, but at the moment he was too busy handling the matter of your ex. “Fucker.” He replied and took a sip. “But are you opposed to it?” Yoongi asked, curious and honestly worried. He would give anything to convince you to let him change your mind.

You blushed. “I’ve done it a couple times with a few flings, but just like you and noise-making, my mind is kind of set on giving rather than receiving. Still, I think I could give it a try.” You announced.

“I’m glad you’re not letting that fucker take that from you.” He admitted, keeping the glass in his hand and holding onto it like it were his sanity.

“If I’m being honest, after that time we went to the park– you remember the ice cream right?”

Yeah, he remembered. Most importantly he remembered the huge boner he’d got as he watched you eating it, his body losing it like a teenager. He nodded.

“I think I’ve started to think about… Your head. There.” You were getting loose-lipped.

You were going to make him sin. He swore under his breath, downing the shot. Again you laughed, enjoying how you were affecting him. “Gonna show you how good it is.” He teased.

“Hope you’ll show me many, many things.” You joked cheekily.

“Trust me, I’m keeping a list, sweetheart.” And the final smirk made you want to rip your own panties and offer yourself to his pink, wet tongue. “Are you okay, Kitten?” He asked, reaching for your knee.

If he touches me, I’ll fucking explode. And there was his hand. On your knee. “Have you ever had sexual fantasies about a man?” The words left your mouth quickly.

He let his fingertips caress your clothed skin. He wished you were wearing a skirt. “I consider myself attracted to people regardless of their gender identity. I had a very brief fling with a man once, but nothing truly ever happened. We just kissed a couple times, but we weren’t right for each other, emotionally. He was too reserved for me. And he was incredibly untrusting.”

“So trust is the dealbraker? Trust?” You asked, immediately interested in something that had changed his relationship so dramatically.

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Okay. I understand.”

“Moving on. What are your thoughts on the last time you had sex?” He kept spurring you on, going deeper and deeper under your skin, getting closer and closer to your soul, trying to discover the very heart of you, and most importantly if he had any chance to settle there.

“Oh God.” You laughed. “It was almost eight months ago. It was traumatic.” Again you laughed.

“Is that an exasperated laugh?” He asked, worried but also interested in your ironic reaction.

“I’m laughing to hold back tears. Last time I had sex, the dude had a dick too big for his own good and didn’t know how to use it. I definitely faked the second one because he kept poking me with his fingers. I asked to change positions so I could touch myself and cum. It was awful.” You laughed some more. “When I went back home I just had to take care of myself.”

“Promise you won’t fake with me.” He almost begged. “Promise me you won’t go home and take care of yourself.”

“I can promise you the first.” You bit your lip. And drank. Don’t ask me the second, please don’t. Please.

“I’ll need the other one too, you know.” He said, pressing you in the matter.

You have no idea, Yoongi. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” He murmured, frowning.

Because I did that so many times already coming home from dates with you, every time silently begging you to kiss me, to touch me, to ruin me. “I’ll try to from now on.”

“I’m sorry if I sent you home frustrated before. But I honestly needed to take my time.” He shoved his hands in his hair, combing it back. “I tend to rush. Once I let go.” He confessed exhaling loudly. He looked at you with a lustful glance. “But I promise I’ll take care of you. Completely.” He was getting flirtier.

“Quickies or long session?”

“Is that your question, kitten? Are you sure?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Answer me, Yoongi.” You laid back, opening your legs just lightly. Anything to lessen the discomfort lodged in your crotch.

He looked amused. “I can do both. But long sessions for the win. The devil’s in the details and the sex is in the foreplay.” He also leaned back and parted his legs, mirroring you perfectly. “What’s the best sex you’ve ever had?”

“A guy I was dating on-again-off-again, before I met my ex. I was twenty. I let him go because I was starting to fall for my ex. He showed me half the stuff I like. The other half I picked up myself.”

He wanted to know more. He wanted to know what you liked, what he owed some horny teenager and what you had discovered yourself. How you had discovered it. Most importantly, he wanted to excel in everything you liked. He wanted to please you again and again, till you were drunk in bliss and his taste, your skin glistening in a gross and divine mixture of his sweat and drool and your own perspiration. He wanted messy and loud and obliterating.

He wanted…

“Have you ever touched yourself while thinking of me?” You asked, bold, spitting the question out of your tongue like ripping off a band aid.

He threw his head back, groaning in something that looked like pain. It wasn’t arousal. You were quite sure.

He was burgundy with shame and effort. He grabbed the glass and downed the alcohol in one go. “Yes.”

You rolled your neck and exhaled, moaning.

“Almost every day.” He went on. “I can’t get you out of my head and I need it to stop for just. One. Second.”

You gulped, then took a big breath through you mouth. “I have too. Thought of you, that is.”

“I assumed so.” He whispered. “I’ve thought of things I’m not proud of, Kitten. I’m a grown, respectful man, but you’ve made such a sorry mess of me.”

“I am so sorry, Yoongi.” No, you’re not.

“You’re truly sadistic, aren’t you?” He asks.

“Is that your question?”

“No.” He pauses. “What’s your favourite body part on yourself and on me?”

Your heartbeat felt like a joke. You closed your legs. No need to try and play it cool. You were drenched, and you were afraid that by now it was actually starting to show. “I think I like my hands? Or maybe… I don’t really know. I think my hands are nice.”

“They are beautiful, ____, really.” So were your tits, but it didn’t feel quite right to point that out in that precise moments.

“Thank you.” You took a long break, biting your lip before going on with your answer. “On you... I’ve been thinking about those hands a lot”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You deadpanned. The background music shifted to something sultry and so slow you felt like desire was spiraling in your loins with that cool, rich drawl.

“What about them?” He continued.

You took a sip of your drink, looking at him from under your lashes. “Around my throat.”

Yoongi sat back, undoing one button of his shirt. “Keep going.”

“One around my throat, the other in my hair as you kiss me, drawing me in. Keeping me still.”

“Keep going.” He said, closing his eyes and rolling his shoulders.

“Maybe I’ve been thinking of your hand on my chest. Your fingers pinching my nipples.”

“God bless you, Kitten. What else did my naughty hands do in those dreams of yours.”

Your voice got breathy and shy. “Maybe… Just maybe they got between my legs.”

“And how did that make you feel.” He was going to lose it.

“Horny.”

His heavy breathing stopped for a second. “Did you touch yourself?” His eyes opened to look at your reaction.

You nodded slowly, trying to get some saliva in your awfully dry mouth. The whisky helped. “I needed it.”

“Good girl.” He praised your honesty, again trying to work on that association between your openness and a positive outcome. He thought it was over. Your confession.

“But to be honest what really made me cum was thinking of your pretty pout on my breasts, licking my tits and biting into the soft skin there.”

He growled, pushing the balls of his hands against his eyes. “Kitten, I think I just came in my pants.”

You laughed wildly at his honesty, rolling your head back and teasing him, showing the expanse of your neck and chest.

“Cruel, ain’t you?”

“I’m also sweet.”

“I don’t care, I’ll lick you up anyway.” He teased downing his glass. His second.

You both did a refill. You were tipsy and his eyes had a gleam that wasn’t there at the beginning of the evening.

“You won’t be able to drive me home.” You murmured.

“Do you really want me to?” He asked.

“No.” You answered.

“Remember, I promised not to fuck you tonight, Kitten.” He reminded you.

“Not even foreplay?” You pouted. “Not even making out? A small peck on the lips?”

“I’m hungry for you. That shit just ain’t it.” He growled. You knew he had deepened his voice for you.

You crossed your legs. “Do you like massage?”

“What number is that?” He asked, referring to how many questions you’ve gone through.

“Fifteen. Do you?” You pressed him, trying to get him to talk.

“I mentioned being sensitive. I do like that when I’m in a stressed mood. I like it after a warm bath, with warm lotion or massage oil. It really makes me weak. An ex introduced me to it and I think I got a bit addicted to it, whenever I feel like I need to be taken care of.”

“It sounds nice.” It felt like a nice pause from the kinkfest that had been going on until five minutes ago.

“Have you ever cried while you were in bed with someone?” He asked, his voice delicate as he reached for another intimate, although innocent side of you.

“The first time I hooked up after my ex. It was so liberating I cried. The guy beside me freaked out a little, but he understood. He was kind, just very emotionally dumb, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry for that. It sounds like he scarred you so much.” Yoongi commented, his boiling desire subduing at your vulnerable, tender side. A silly, egotistic part of him wanted to heal you. Try as hard as he might.

“It’s cool.” Your mouth quirked to the side. “Let’s move on to brighter themes, yeah? What’s your favourite thing to do, sexually speaking?”

He looked at you with doubt in his eyes. You knew the past scars conversation wasn’t over. Still, he smiled bright and replied. “I want to suck your nipples. Bite your soft, round tits, leave hickies all over them.” He leaned over, feeling bold as he let his hand catch yours. He scooted closer to you, his voice so deep he sounded like Hades, god of the Underworld. “That’s one of my favourite things in bed. And not just there, honestly.”

Could a person die from arousal? Because you felt your heart burst at that moment, explode like a match and light up your bonfire body. “Yoongi.” You murmured as he let the back of his fingers travel along the outer side of your thigh in a phantom touch.

“You wanna know what else I really, really like doing in bed? Another fantasy of mine?” He asked, his tone patronising but his posture all the opposite, respectful and tender, like a man talking to his woman. He leaned down, close to your ear. “I want you to sit on my face, Kitten. I wanna lick you up like you’re dripping in cream. I want my face covered in jour taste. I want to choke between your legs. Will you give me that?” He asked, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and placing a soft kiss on your temple. “Will you give me that, Kitten?”

You had gone completely still, afraid that even your smallest move could break the spell. “Take it now, please, Yoongi.” You begged. “I can’t take this anymore. I’m so wet. I’m so tired of needing you all the time!” You whined, grabbing his hand and placing it between your clothed thighs, where your wetness had started to diffuse.

“I can’t, Kitten. You know our promises. But what about my question, uh? Have you ever had a threesome, sweetheart?”

“Once. After leaving my ex I had some wild times. A couple of university friends asked me to join them. I sort of liked it.” You admitted, as your hips tried to grind against his barely-there fingers.

“Liked doing it with a girl?” He asked, gripping your thigh and pressing you down, stopping your attempt at release.

“I liked eating her out.”

“Kitty girl likes using her tongue. Good for her.” He murmured, trying to stop the image of you doing that. He needed to try. Needed to see. Fuck monogamy, he could try this before you became too his to share.

By now he was sitting at your side and you were doing everything, everything in your power to stop yourself from straddling his lap and shoving his head between your breasts. You took your glass and took a sip, his nose drawing a thin line following the outline of your throat while swallowing. You almost choked. “What’s your favorite part of sex?”

“Foreplay. But it was already clear, wasn’t it?” He taunted. “You need to focus, Kitten. Ask the right questions. Mirror sex?” He queried.

“Yes.” You replied. Alcohol spurred you on. “Honestly, I want to try giving a man a hand job while stading behind him, in front of a mirror. I’d like to feel the power of that.” You shrugged.

“That sounds nice.” He played it cool, the erection in his trousers now too blatant to even bother covering.

You almost wanted to ask him if he had a full-length mirror nearby so you could get started right there and then. But you didn’t like how cool and unaffected he seemed. You wanted him to get flustered and drink and undo another button. You wanted him to throw his head back so you could lick a stripe up his neck. “And I would whisper dirty stuff in your ear. Don’t think I didn’t notice how flustered you were during our gallery visit.”

“Darling, that was an exercise in restraint. I almost smashed you against the closest painting at least three times.”

“Only three times?” You lifted your eyebrows dramatically.

“I’m almost offended, Min Yoongi.”

“Careful there, Kitten.” He warned.

“Unless?” You provoked him.

“I’ve promised I won’t fuck you tonight.” He murmured.

“Such a coquettish tease you are.” You huffed, looking away.

“I want you to ruin me, Kitten. We can’t do that until promotion is over and you can leave marks all over me as much as you want.” His deepened voice made you squirm on your seat, legs crossing in desperate need to ease the pulsing under your panties.

“It’s almost four a.m. Are you sure you want to finish this?”

I want you to finish me. “Question...”

“Eighteen, babe.”

“Mh, nice. If your partner ever caught you touching yourself, would you keep going?”

“Depends, but yeah, I think so.” Pause. “I would put up a nice show for you.” He palmed his erection through the fabric, trying to get more comfortable.

Yes, you noticed. No, you did not comment. Self combustion is not your current goal, after all. “That’s all you’re gonna offer me?” You asked piqued, dragging your fingernail from his knee to his hipbone slowly. He didn’t manage to hold back a shiver.

You chuckled lowly. “Sensitive little thing.”

“My turn, little devil. What of masturbating while dirty talking?” He asked, his arm moving behind your back and climbing up, snaking around your shoulder, his hand grabbing your chin to shift your gaze from his lap to his face.

“Want to know a secret, baby?” You lured him in, carefully.

“Everything.”

“I’ve touched myself while listening to you.” You whispered at his ear, goosebumps raising everywhere, his whole body growing too sensitive as your hand moved to his inner thigh.

“Really?” Yoongi asks, trying to push his crotch in your palm.

You retreated your hand, offering only the tip of your index finger, which started lazily tracing the outline of his hard on. “I’m sorry. Does it bother you?”

He winced. He would really come in his pants like a teenager. Was your question about your hand or about using his voice to get yourself off? He didn’t mind, both. “I’m perfectly good with it, Kitten. I’m just surprised. What was I talking about.” His voice was neutral, but his eyes were closing, mouth hanging open.

You neared your mouth to his ear and started explaining. “It was a voice note. You were discussing a beat, describing the vibe of the piece you had just finished, murmuring stuff about the bass and not being sure of the tempo, maybe slowing it down.”

“And you came to that?” He asked, opening his eyes and meeting yours.

You were stroking him through his clothes and you hadn’t even kissed him yet. I told you. A slut. That’s what you are. You reprimanded yourself. “I came to the sound of your voice. The pattern of stresses. It was so relaxing. The way your voice resonated.” You kissed his jaw, taking courage.

He smiled. “Next time I’ll send you something more... stimulating, then.” He cocked his head to the side, showing you the soft skin below his chin.

You kissed there too. “I’ll look forward to it.” Another kiss. “Final question.” Another. “if you could do anything to me right now, what would you do?” You placed another kiss on his neck as he moaned, his hips moving shamelessly.

You offered him your palm.

He groaned when he started answering. “Tear your clothes off. Suck your panties clean ‘cause they must be soaked.”

You squeezed your hand around his shape. He was rock hard, the curve following the waistband of his pants. He didn’t feel excessively big, but still his thickness felt nice on your palm. You just wished you could see him naked. He emitted a low whine, his hand dropping from your chin and hitting your chest. “Keep going, Yoongi.” You encouraged him, needing to know what he wanted to do to you.

“I would lick you clean. Fuck you on the sofa, you on top of me. Riding me while I suck on those gorgeous tits.” His hand reached lower, holding your breast and rolling it expertly in his gentle grip. “I’d cum in your cunt while I’m balls deep inside you. And when we’re done I would fuck my cum back inside with my tongue.” He growled like a vicious beast and you just couldn’t help it, you needed your hand between your thighs. You obeyed to your need.

“You’re a filthy, greedy boy, Yoongi, aren’t you?” You asked, giving him more, rewarding for the glorious image he’d just gifted you.

“It’s with you. Just you.” He called out, his voice broken, his mouth desperate. “My final question. Why haven’t you kissed my lips yet?”

“I was waiting for you.” You murmured, bringing your lips upwards, against his throat. He was completely immobilised as you lingered a hairsbreadth from his plush pout. “Yes?”

“Yes.” He whispered.

That’s when you lowered yourself on him, once hopeless, starved and now finally hopeful and nourished.

He feeded you milk and honey, his assault sweet and rich, a balm to your tarnished soul. His lips latched onto your lower lip, sucking and sucking in a way that made you want to offer him every inch of your body. Yes, you would still wait for this. You would keep waiting. For this moment to come back, for this feeling to bloom and fill you over and over again, anytime he kissed you, from now to the rest of eternity. You murmured his name on his mouth and he spoke yours, with alarm over his features.

“Too much, too much, Kitten, please.” He whispered, pressing harder against your hand. “Want you. Please. Touch yourself. I wanna cum with you.”

He was lost and desperate, grinding against you like a fool.

You undid your zipper and put your hands on your sodden folds. You delivered a peck on his lips. “How close?” You asked.

“Very.” He replied, wetting your lips with the tip of his tongue, making you open your mouth and licking you up, flirting with your own tongue.

You pulled away to bite his jaw gently. “I’ve never been this wet, Yoongi. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Gimme...” You studied the geography of his lap, finding his tip and focusing there. “Yes.” He murmured, before intensifying his pushes. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Please, ____, let me hear you.”

You let out an embarrassed, tentative whine, then, trying to properly assist him, you started getting carried away, losing your damper, clenching your inner muscles and whispering his name. “Yoongi, I’m close.” You murmured. “Need you to…”

“Yes, Kitten, baby, please… I–” With a groan, he hid his head in the crook of your neck, biting on the skin, not too harshly.

It was all it took. “Yoongi!” You screamed, pushing into your own hand and collapsing against the back of the couch, dragging him with you.

When you regained conscience, he was already out of his high, looking flustered and sleepy and glowing. Beautiful.

“Can I?” He uttered quietly.

You nodded, barely coherent.

He helped your hand out of your waistband, careful not to stain your clothes. And granting you a fine view, he brought your hands to his mouth and licked them clean.

His tongue delved into every angle and plane, making sure he got every drop. Licking his lips, he stared into your soul and murmured deeply. “The fucking sweetest.”

And then he held you close. “There’s a spare bathroom, at the end of the hall. It has everything you need.” He explained. “I’ll get cleaned myself. Will you sleep in my bed?” He asked, his voice so vulnerable it shattered your heart.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

[mrskisaki]

Since this fic originally started off as a top 5 headcanon, I decided to actually give it a real part 1 and I might go and edit part 2 because it’s still in headcanon format and I’m probably gonna make it longer hehe.

Nsfw at the end

LMFAOOOO JUST REALIZED THAT YALL WAS EXPECTING PT5 DJSKAKAK

Betrayed pt1

Being a strawhat meant that you don’t get a lot of peace and quiet or time to chill out and relax unless it’s on the ship, and even then that's hard to come by with Luffy as the Captain. The energetic boy who always has a smile on his face and always finding himself and everyone around him into trouble. Constantly looking for another adventure and new people to meet, that's how you all ended up on another island.

Hand in hand with your lover, the two of you walked behind the rest of the crew who were gawking at the new surroundings. You couldn’t blame them, this island was beautiful; everything was shiny, they had stores with items you’ve never even seen nor heard of before, everyone was pirate friendly as well and that’s something that doesn’t come around often. People standing outside were offering free items and samples, laughing with bright smiles and some children even came up and asked for a few stories of life on the sea.

After agreeing to meet back up at the ship at a designated time, everyone went their own way, leaving the two lovers alone to ponder what they were going to do for the day. Still walking, Sanji reaches over and picks up a lotus flower from one of the many stands and puts it behind your ear. Pulling you into his chest by your waist, he whispers ”You're beautiful (y/n)-chan~, have I told you that today?” You giggle and give him the kiss he was waiting for ”Yes Sanji, you have.” Looking around, you spot a restaurant and begin dragging him towards it.

Upon entering, it's nothing like you've seen before; the ceiling is high, chandeliers made of big diamonds dangling from the said ceiling, enormous spacing, and love music. Even with all of this, everyone seated inside is in normal clothing so perhaps it's not as fancy as you initially thought. Sanji pulls out your seat then pushes you up to the table, he even puts a napkin on your lap in case you drop food while eating. ”You're such a gentleman Sanji, you're too good to me.” Motioning for a waiter to assist you two, he smiles ”For you, I'd do anything mon amour~”

The long-needed date was perfect. The food was delicious, the waiter was excellent and patient when you were indecisive about which meal you wanted and even gave good recommendations on what you would like. The day was still young so after a bit of walking around and buying small knick-knacks and souvenirs, it was decided that the two of you would go to a pub and try out some booze since you had tasted their wine earlier and it was exquisite.

You should have known it was too good to be true, something was bound to happen, the day was too favorable that something HAD to happen or not wouldn't be right. You see, Sanji had been too focused on you and your smile that he didn't take the chance to stop and look around and take in his surroundings. The women on this island were beautiful; big busts and full lips, bodies curved out by the Greek gods themselves, soft silky voices that were smooth like honey, shiny hair that cascaded down their shoulders and backs, and eyes that were as bright as the morning sun.

It was truly a surprise that he hadn't noticed them sooner, you sure have but you thought maybe, just maybe Sanji had matured just a tiny bit to where he won't freak and have a nose bleed every time he saw a beautiful woman. How foolish you were to think that. All it took was a bump to the shoulder and a spilled drink to forget your entire existence for the night. Every time you tried to regain your lover's attention he would brush you off, more interested in the woman he hadn't noticed before and soon enough he was buying her drink after drink and left you alone at the counter.

It happened so quickly that it gave you whiplash, all you did was turn around and buy yourself another drink then you see it out of your peripheral. Sanji, your lover, was lip-locking with the girl. Blood running cold, you froze. You couldn't believe it but you didn't have much time to wonder if it was the alcohol making you see things because he quickly got up and let the woman led him out of the bar hand in hand. You knew what was going to happen. Abandoning your drink, you rush out and call his name. He stops and looks back, whispers in her ear then continues to follow her away.

Sanji fucks her with every fiber in his being, hot nasty spit swapping sex that he never had with you. It felt so good to finally be able to let loose instead of the soft romantic sex he has with you. Rutting harshly in and out of her he finally reaches his peak and cums in her, she previously reached her end a bit before him. Foreheads connected, she reaches a hand up and kisses him once more before clinging onto his bicep. ”Thanks for the good time hun but you should get going, I have an early morning tomorrow. Unless you're up for a round two?”

Getting dressed, he turns down her invitation. He has to return to the ship to make sure Luffy doesn't break into the fridge since its already late into the night, hopefully he makes it there before Zoro. Saying his goodbyes to the woman, he makes his way out and walks along the boardwalk silently thanking her for living close to the port. Putting a cigarette between his lips, he lights it up with his favorite lighter, the one you gave him for your 2 year anniversary. The thought alone brought a smile to his face, but it disappeared as quick as it came when the memories of the night came rushing through his mind.

What in the hell did he just do.

[mybrothershands]

MBH/Dumpling 2

second installment, same art because otherwise you'll be waiting on it all day tomorrow. Characters by myself and @diddlesanddoodles and editing by @thundering-susurrus

The giant pinched up his face as if he smelled something bad. He then prodded the lump in his chest-pocket. "Get up, you lazy fool."

Several emotions crossed Yale face all at once, from anger to confusion to relief. Now that he knew where to look, Yale could see a distinctive lump in the man’s front pocket and heard the smaller voice emanating from within. Well, if he had a human companion of his own, that was a welcome relief. But he still kept his hand on Nenani. Grinning, he jerked his head to indicate the lump on Ka's shirt. “Ah, well I suppose that answers that. He yer assistant then?”

"Parasite, more like," he said, fishing around in his pocket until he caught the man by the shirt and pulled his shoulders over the lip of the pocket.

"Why you little two-ton son of a hog-bellied cob, I ought to--" The human smacked the hand away.

A nervous laugh escaped the giant, and he clasped his hand over the smaller man's mouth. "Er, this is my brother. He took care of me when I was small," said Ka.

Yale had been watching Ka fish around in his pocket and smirked at the human’s grouchy reply. The human’s snark immediately reminded him of Farris, but upon hearing Ka call him his brother, Yale gave pause. His curiosity was piqued.

“Wha –? Really? Can’t say I’ve ever heard ‘a that. That must be one hell of a story,” he said and jerked his head towards Ka. “Ye must’ve had a time of it keepin’ ‘im fed and clothed proper.”

The giant paused, then seemed to draw back within himself and looked away. Cairo, however, had no such loss for words. "Got that right. Ungrateful, too. You should see the spot in my side where he--" The massive hand clamped over his mouth again.

"I, erm," Ka cleared his throat, worry painted on his face. "I was old enough to work when he took me in. I cleared land for a human farmer in exchange for food. Cairo paid for my clothes and gave me a place to stay."

Polly then decided to use his leg as a scratching post and began rubbing her face up and down the side of his pants, leaning into him. "Woah, hey!" Ka said as he was knocked off balance. Once he found his feet, he pulled her bridle back over her ear and straightened her forelock. "But yes, I'm," he waved his hand in a circle, "I can work with humans just fine. They just need to let me know they're there and keep away from my feet."

“Ah, well no worries there,” Yale said with a light laugh as he pulled his apron aside to reveal Nenani at his hip. “You know better than to be underfoot, ain’t that right Dumplin’?”

Nenani nodded while she observed the new giant and silently marveled at his height. Despite the way in which he towered over them, he had a kind face, and she was not afraid.

“Farris doesn’t like it if I’m on the floor,” she explained. “He doesn’t trust the footmen to keep a look out.”

Ka's expression softened. She was a little thing, even for her kind, with auburn hair that shone in the sunlight. Somehow she met his gaze without fear, and it gave him pause. "H-hello there," he said quietly. "I am Ka. It's nice to meet you, miss."

It took the giant a moment to realize that the young man must have been hiding her, and why he had questioned him so. Come to think of it, he had not seen a single small person, nor chest pocket since he had entered this town. Pieces began to fall into place, and he decided he should not stay here for long. Not with Cairo. Absently, his hand found its way to his pocket.

“Hi. I’m Nenani,” she replied back, trying to look friendly. He looked so nervous, she thought. Yale easily scooped her up and sat her on his leg. After getting comfortable, she gestured up at the cook and said, “And he didn’t say so, but this is Yale.”

Looking confused, Yale looked down at her. “I didn’t introduce myself at all did I?”

“Nope,” she replied. “That was very rude. Lolly would swat you.”

“Ah, well,” he said, giving Ka and Cairo an apologetic shrug. “She wouldn’t be too pleased with me bringin’ the lil’un on this errand either. So there’s that.”

Cairo grumbled as Ka fawned over this little girl. She seemed unafraid and even kind towards his brother, which he respected. Still, he regarded Yale with a critical eye. Hooking his elbow over the frayed lip of the pocket, the human raised his voice. "What kind of kitchen is this anyway, boy? It's a bit late in the day to be fetchin stuff. What are you doing out here now?"

“Best kitchen in Vhasshal,” Yale fired back with a smug grin. He pointed over his shoulder towards the castle behind them. “That being the royal kitchen.”

“But Gjerk didn’t clean the chimney and it ruined the luncheon roasts,” Nenani supplied with a frankness that made light of the true disaster. “Almost caught the whole kitchen on fire.”

Yale frowned and, blushing just a bit, agreed with a muted nod. “Aye. Well, even the best kitchen in Vhasshal can fall victim to inattentive tenderfoots. So we’re needin’ to shuffle things ‘round a bit. Headin’ to a merchant who raises and sells field rocs.”

Ka's face became a smiling mask with a blank stare. Royal kitchen? Was this boy not worried that some stranger picked off the street could poison someone Important? Even the king himself? What if something went wrong and he was blamed for it and put in prison? Even he himself was not sure he deserved such trust, and yet kept his mouth shut in hopes that there was something he did not know.

Cairo, meanwhile, looked the man up and down, and then the girl in turn. They seemed easygoing and honest, if not a bit frank. At last he nodded. "We will accept your offer."

The giant balked. "Cairo, I'm not sure--"

"Shut up," he said, waving a hand. "Your belly's been a'growling all day, and I'll have no more of it. This is an easy job, and you're gonna take it," Cairo barked.

Ka paused, a hint of frustration on his face. Still, this was Cairo. The giant seemed to let go of his worries and nodded. "Just tell me what to do," he said, fixing Yale in his gaze, "and I'll help as much as I can."

He seemed eager enough, Yale thought. And even if his kitchen skills were minimal, so long as he could hold a knife, he could find something for him to do. Ka’s human companion was clearly the more dominant of the two, which Yale found to be quite amusing. And even a bit refreshing. He was so used to humans reacting to him with fear or at the very least nervous suspicion. Not that they did not have a valid reason of course.

He decided he liked Cairo.

“Well, first we gotta go collect them rocs and scurry on back,” Yale said with a grin. “So if we just wanna follow along we’ll go get that done and we can get ye to work.” He paused as he considered Ka. “And get ye somethin’ t’eat. Farris might gripe at me fer it, but believe me. He’s gonna be thankful fer yer help. Even he don’t show it. Or say it. Or yells at ye.”

Yale flicked the reins to usher Polly forward, bringing a hand up to hold onto Nenani when she almost fell off his lap.

“Ah!”

“Oh, sorry there, Dumplin’.”

"Oh," said Ka as he backed away and let the animal slip past until he could walk beside the cab. This Farris fellow seemed a bit crotchety. "Thank you," he said above the creaking wheels. The mention of food set his mouth to watering. They had had so many good things down at the market, maybe now he could get his hands on something. "I can pay you, but I'm afraid my coin may just be trinkets to you."

From his pocket, Cairo squinted one eye, adjusting his position to better watch the small giant. "Why you call her 'dumpling,' anyhow?"

“It was a joke,” Nenani explained with a flat look. “Wasn’t a very funny one.”

“I dunno, I thought it was a pretty good one,” Yale replied with a knowing grin. He poked her belly and the girl squealed and laughed, batting at his fingers. She lost her balance and almost fell back off his lap, but Yale was quick enough to catch her and place her safely down on the bench beside him. He ruffled her hair into a bushy mess. “Anyway, I caught this one here after she’d nicked some fruit. And right in the middle of the King’s weddin’ feast too. Don’t think I’ve ever been that stressed in my life.”

“He threatened to eat me...” Nenani said with the same flat expression.

As lovely as he found the girl's laugh, Ka's smile quickly faded as the girl voiced the joke. He made a sound half way between a choke and a quack. "Hmm?"

Cairo looked more surprised at the noise his brother made than Nenani's admittance. "Oh he did, did he?" He sat up, eyeing Yale. "He looks like a pansy to me."

Yale could not help the smirk of satisfaction at seeing the way Ka reacted. But his focus drew to the man’s pocket and the human within. Leaning towards them and planting his hand on the other side of where Nenani sat, he grinned at the human man.

“Big words fer a fella who travels by pocket,” he challenged. “Why not come on outta there and I’ll show ye how much of a pansy I am.”

Nenani glared up at Yale and grabbed onto his sleeve and gave it a firm tug. “No fighting.”

Cairo merely laughed at the girl's reaction. "I ain't stupid. Think I'll stay in the pocket, eh?" He slapped Ka's chest.

The giant rolled his eyes. He kept pace with the cart fairly easily, even as the Svaldifari trotted. He cleared his throat. "Keep acting like that and I may just let him have you."

"What!" he exclaimed, clutching a hand over his heart. "He might skin me, don't you think? You brute, you should protect your poor old brother."

Ka sighed, plodding along. "You can take care of yourself just fine."

“Smart man, your brother,” Yale said to Ka. “With him taggin’ along, ye might just survive a day in Farris’s kitchen.”

There was something very comforting about watching Cairo and Ka banter. It was all too easy for Yale to be drawn back to the horrible memories of the war and the way it seemed to him at the time that the bloodletting would never cease. Yet before him was a man who openly and easily called a human his brother.

“As fer skinnin’: nah. Too much of a hassle. Much easier to just toss ye into the stew and pop the lid on.”

Beside him, Nenani rolled her eyes. She had become nearly desensitized to all staff’s banter about eating and cooking people. Cairo didn’t seem like the sort to take Yale seriously. But Ka, she observed, seemed to not care for the jokes at all.

Ka lolled his head back, exasperated, then clamped his hand back over Cairo's mouth. "Ne- Nena-nani, er..." he chewed on his tongue for a moment, still trying to decide how many syllables the girl's name had. "Nenani," he said decisively. "He... Yale. He said he found you stealing?" said the giant, desperate to change the subject.

There were a few shoves and knocks on his hand before there at last came a double-tap and Cairo's mouth was freed. However, he kept his mouth shut for once and watched the road ahead. The mare seemed to need a bit of guiding, unused to going this way, but Yale was not quite paying attention. He peered ahead. Was this the way they had come before? Where was the market?

“Oh. Yeah,” she replied as she fiddled with the hem of her skirt in slight embarrassment. “But it’s not like what Farris and they all thought at first. I’m not from the Hill Tribe, I’m from the Southlands. They were loading a bunch of carts near the docks and I tried to sneak in and grab a persimmon before anyone noticed, but the basket was really big and I just...kind of fell in. And got stuck.”

Yale stifled a snicker as he corrected Polly’s path. She whinnied at him in annoyance. “I remember all them peels, lil’un. It was certainly more than one.”

“I was in there for three days,” she said and stuck her tongue out at Yale. “What else was I gonna eat? The basket?” When Yale only shrugged at her, she continued. “I grew up being told stories about Vhasshal and I was really scared. So as soon as the caravan stopped, I tried to run.”

“Caught her tryin’ to make a run fer it,” Yale added lightly pinching her arm. “Didn’t get all that far. Like...a half a dozen yards maybe before I got ‘er.”

Ka frowned. He did not like the way that last bit sounded. He steered away as they passed another cart on the road. He wanted to ask the stories about Vhasshal, and why she had been so frightened, but the girl had not seemed a bit embarrassed about that point in her past. Come to think of it, maybe he did not want to know. "Persimmons... have peels?"

The edge of the village was approaching, and Yale could hear the sound of the rocs long before their pens came into view. Their destination was a handsome little cottage just at the end of the tight clusters of row homes. Though was an older building and had but a thatched roof, it was well maintained and clean. Behind it were the roc pens. There were a dozen or so of the birds loose in the larger space, and Yale felt relieved. He was only going to need ten for the luncheon service, and he’d be able to get a few extra just in case anything else went horribly wrong today.

“Well, I think they’re actually husks,” she was saying. “They’re from overseas somewhere. But you’re not supposed to eat the outsides because it’ll make you sick.”

“Ye did get sick though. Just not from eatin’ fruit,” Yale pointed out. His eyes trailed after the other cart as they passed, having seen the way they had been gawking at Ka. Poor guy must get that a lot.

“Yeah, I had the red reap,” Nenani said. “It was terrible. But Farris took care of me and gave me medicine and watched me all night while I had the fever.”

Ka blinked, trying to make sense of this new information. He had no idea what red reap was, but then again, he was not familiar with most diseases. "It sounds terrible," he said, worry on his brow. The way she had explained it, it sounded deadly. He could not imagine having to care for someone through the night, not knowing if the little thing would make it.

Though he had not yet met the man, Ka found himself reconsidering this Farris guy. If he was the type to yell at someone new, it seemed a bit backwards that he would worry over a thief. He shook the thought away. He had not met him yet. Maybe he would understand later.

It was then he heard some bird-like squabbling, and looked up to find a pen with some frighteningly large feathery beasts. "What... are those?" He felt a bit stupid for asking, but then again, nothing was familiar to him here. Nothing at all.

"What, you never seen a chicken before?" Cairo butted in.

“Oh them ain’t no chickens,” Yale answered, giving Cairo an amused sideways glance. “Those are common field rocs. Those beauties eat chickens fer breakfast. Literally. They’re birds of prey. And they’re what we’re here fer.”

Yale maneuvered the cart towards the pens and when they were close enough, he pulled the reins lightly and Polly came to a gentle halt. She turned to her head back at Yale, expectation in her eyes. With a chuckle, he reached into his apron pocket and pulled out a pressed oat cake. Turning to Ka, he held out the treat. “Wanna give Polly her reward while I go spend the king's money?”

A grin spread across Ka’s face, and he chuckled. "Seems she's in good hands," he said, gently taking the biscuit from him.

~~~

Twelve common field rocs were in the back of the cart, their wings tied down to their sides and hemp sacks placed over their heads to keep them docile. Nenani hung off the back of the driver’s bench, looking down at the immobilized birds. They were as large as cows, and it was a little daunting to think that there were birds that big in the world.

The trip back was fairly uneventful, except that news of Ka seemed to have made its way around the village, They seemed to be getting more stares than before, but Yale made a point of staring down whatever gawkers he noticed. But he did not have the same presence as Farris did, and mostly, the people just kept on staring.

Nenani found it to be pretty rude, and to several she stuck out her tongue.

As they approached the back gate that led to the kitchen courtyard, the guards stationed there did double takes as Ka came into view, but Yale was quick to head off any questions. “He’s here to help out for the day. If you have a problem with that, take it up with Farris.”

There was enough of a threat in those words that they were allowed to pass without any form of harassment.

“Don’t let those guards make ye nervous none, lad,” Yale said to Ka. “Most of ‘em are real decent fellas.”

Yale was still looking towards Ka as he directed Polly along the road, around the last bend, and into the courtyard. He pulled the reins and was about to say something else when felt a tug on his sleeve and he looked down at Nenani. “Hm? What’s it?”

Nenani merely pointed further ahead of them and Yale’s gaze followed along. A large fire pit had been lit in the middle of the yard, and the largest of their cooking pans was placed over the top, with a sizable pile of pumpkins next to it. Saen and Avery were in the middle of carving a few up but had made little headway.

But what had caught their eye was none of them, but the solitary figure just a short distance away. Standing with his arms akimbo and looking very displeased was Farris. His green eyes narrowed at Yale.

“Yer fuckin’ late.”

Ever since the border guards, Ka had gotten increasingly fidgety. As soon as Yale quieted down, he slowed up and walked behind the cart. The castle ahead was bigger than any he had seen, especially this close up. He ran his hand up and down his sleeve, trying to create some warmth as his breath crystallized before him. Upon hearing the voice, the giant's first impression was how gravelly and frayed it sounded, possibly from overuse. The second was that it did not sound happy.

"What's it to you?" Cairo muttered under his breath. It was more of a knee-jerk reaction, than anything, but it was enough to remind Ka to keep an eye on him. The human's left arm and legs lolled out of the pocket. He picked at his teeth as the giant walked. "Move over, Ka, I want to get a look at this meathead."

Ka merely shook his head, hand straying up to cover the man. "Be careful here. We don't know for sure if it's safe yet." There came a grumbling and a shove at the fingers, but for the most part he kept his mouth shut.

Before Yale could even begin to explain himself, Farris caught sight of Ka, and the kitchen master’s eyes widened as his gaze traveled up and up and up until he met the taller giant’s eye. “And just who in the Seven Hells are ye?”

Ever since the border guards, Ka had gotten increasingly fidgety. As soon as Yale quieted down, he slowed up and walked behind the cart. The castle ahead was bigger than any he had seen, especially this close up. He ran his hand up and down his sleeve, trying to create some warmth as his breath crystallized before him. Upon hearing the voice, the giant's first impression was how gravelly and frayed it sounded, possibly from overuse. The second was that it did not sound happy.

"What's it to you?" Cairo muttered under his breath. It was more of a knee-jerk reaction, than anything, but it was enough to remind Ka to keep an eye on him. The human's left arm and legs lolled out of the pocket. He picked at his teeth as the giant walked. "Move over, Ka, I want to get a look at this meathead."

Ka merely shook his head, hand straying up to cover the man. "Be careful here. We don't know for sure if it's safe yet." There came a grumbling and a shove at the fingers, but for the most part he kept his mouth shut.

Before Yale could even begin to explain himself, Farris caught sight of Ka, and the kitchen master’s eyes widened as his gaze traveled up and up and up until he met the taller giant’s eye. “And just who in the Seven Hells are ye?”

Before Ka could answer, though, Yale jumped in. “Came across him on the way to get the rocs. He was lookin’ fer some work, and I offered to let him help us today.”

All through Yale’s explanations, Farris sized Ka up with a critical eye, pausing at the distinct bulge in the tall man’s pocket. His eyes narrowed suspiciously before turning their vitriol onto his assistant. 

“Oh ye did, did ye?” he demanded. “Are ye fuckin’ daft boy?”

Yale hopped down off the cart. “We need the extra help, and as mad as ye are, ye can’t deny the big fella could be of some help. Hell, he’d make short work breakin’ down the pumpkins.” Yale leaned around Farris to yell past him towards his fellow cooks. “A whole lot faster than them two knobheads!”

Saen and Avery looked up from their work to glare back at Yale. Avery waved his knife in the air, calling back, “Go fuck yerself, Yale.” 

Yale was still grinning when Farris drew his attention back with a growl. “And ye think I’d let just anyone off the street come in and cook in my kitchen, do ye?”

Yale glanced over his shoulder at Ka and then back to Farris. With a shrug, he said, “Honestly boss, I don’t think he’d fit. Be a bit tight.”

Farris’s ever-present glare faltered as an amused smirk crossed his lips. With a grunt he looked back at Ka. “Ye have any experience in a kitchen there, son?”

The giant clutched his fists against his chest, shoulders hunched and brow scrunched with worry. Though the man was half his height, he scared Ka. He looked like someone who knew how to fight and just might if aggravated.

"Y-yessir, just a bit, sir." Ka stuttered, coming out from behind the wagon. "Look, I promise I mean no harm, sir. I just, well I- I- I was looking for some work is all. He was nice enough to give me a chance. I promise I'll do my best if you'll only let me help."

Farris was silent for several moments, eyeing Ka once more. “Where ye from?”

The giant straightened up a bit, a slight hope welling in his chest. "Benhyke, sir. I'm... trying to find my way back there, actually."

“Never heard of it. So ye mean to tell me yer as tall as a fuckin’ house with no proper sense of direction?” The kitchen master didn’t give Ka a chance to answer before walking over to the cart where Nenani sat. He laid his arm across the drivers bench and looked at the girl. “What say ye Dumplin’? Think he’s some sort of secret assassin tryin’ to worm his way into the castle?”

Nenani blinked and shook her head. “No.” 

“Well, if yer so sure,” he said with a small smile and scooped her up. Tucking her into the crook of his arm, he turned back to Ka.  The warmth he had spoken to Nenani with was gone and the harsher tone returned. “Ye got a name?”

He scratched his head, still harboring the initial insult in his mind, and had not quite heard him speak to the girl. "What? O-oh I am Ka. And this is--" he paused. At first caution took over, but once he saw the way he cared for Nenani, the fear melted. "--Cairo," he finished.

Upon hearing his name, a single hand came out of the pocket and gave a dramatic wave. "Evening to you, you motherless goat," he called, then the hand disappeared again.

Farris’s expression darkened and, behind him, Yale was making a frantic motion with his hands at Ka that translated roughly to “Bad idea. Stop.”

“I’ll give ye fair warning now, boy,” Farris warned as he walked towards Ka. Pressing further into his space, he stared up at the taller giant and pointed towards his pocket. “Keep that one’s mouth under control or I’ll be doin’ it fer ‘im. I’ve had plenty of humans toss out insults at me and, one way or another, they learn not to. If ye wanna work, I’ve got work fer ye. And you’ll be paid fair wages fer it. But if that one skulking in yer pocket don’t watch it, he’s gonna become intimately acquainted with the inside of a roasting pan.”

Ka's face paled and he backed away, clutching one hand to his pocket. "No! No, please, he's my brother. Y-you can't--I won't..." He seemed to get ahold of himself then, squared his shoulders. "Take that back," he said, regaining his ground. If it were not for the girl in his arms, Ka was not sure what he might have done.

Farris did not back away, and his only movement was to use his free hand to cover Nenani as though to shield her. He met Ka’s eyes with a firm unwavering stare. “I don’t take it back. This is my kitchen and my word is law.” Farris let a small smirk come to his lips. “Just keep in mind though, I didn’t say nothing about actually cookin’ ‘im.”

The giant blinked, relaxing a bit. "What?"

At this point, Cairo heaved a dramatic sigh and pulled himself up. He looked the man up and down and came to a conclusion. "Ugly lump."

Nenani poked her head out from behind Farris’s hand. “No fighting.” 

At Nenani's word, Ka took a step back. There was still anger in his blood, and he elected to stay on his toes, but any hostility was snuffed out by the girl's voice.

Farris only adjusted his hand to ruffle her hair.  “Well ye ain’t no Blue Thorn Beauty yerself,” Farris shot back at Cairo, then raised an eyebrow at him. “Ain’t ye a bit old fer being carried ‘round like a babe?”

Cairo raised a brow, then patted the chest behind him. "This one here's the baby when it comes down to it, little man. Now--" He cut himself off as if he had heard something. "Alright already," he grumbled at apparently nothing. "What do I have to do to get your sorry bag of bones to do something decent, eh? This boy's half starved."

"Cairo..." Ka hissed through his teeth. "I haven't done the work yet."

Farris huffed and rolled his eyes. “Yale,” he called without taking his eyes from the pair. “Go grab this one one ‘a the leftover meat pies.” He paused, reconsidering the man and his height. “Make that two.”

“Will do, boss,” Yale replied, flashing Ka a wide grin before running off towards the stairway that led into the kitchen proper. 

“I don’t run a charity here,” Farris told him sternly. “But if yer gonna be any use to me at all today, it wont be with an empty belly. Ye’ll eat and then ye’ll work. Understand?”

"No," Cairo said blatantly before Ka had a chance.

[tobesobri]

𝒜 lot happens in this chapter. You’re welcome and I’m sorry at the same time. If you’d like a preview of Chapter 11 right now, you can join my patreon here! Thank you so much for all the love and support with this story ❤️

huge massive thank you to the incredible @youresogolden-h for editing ❤️

CHAPTER TEN: DANCE IN MY LIVING ROOM (5.7K)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

🥥MASTERLIST 🌃INSPO TAG 🌻ASK TAG 💃PLAYLIST 🛌

Harry’s mind went to overthinking mode again when he was alone. When he was tidying his room and hiding Y/N’s things in case Will decided to come upstairs for whatever reason and see replicas of all her toiletries on his counter. The impromptu party was in four hours but when he walked back into his room and stared at his bed, he quickly got lost in his thoughts.

The last time he’d seen her had been Wednesday night.

And it was because he couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t stop picturing her crying alone in her bed and then crying himself into hysterics about it. He even tried washing every piece of his bedspread to get her scent off his pillowcases just so he could get some sleep, but that still didn’t work. The distance he thought he needed had only made him miserable, even more so than before. She didn’t have to care about him, he supposed, he just needed to see her.

So that’s what he ended up texting her at ten o’clock at night. On Wednesday.

(Harry, 10:02 pm)

Please come over.

I need you.

It was desperate, he knew that. But it had worked. She showed up thirty minutes later with her usual backpack, and ten minutes after that in her usual spot under the covers with him.

She hadn’t wanted to at first, because it was late and because it had been a while since he had last asked her to come over, but him needing her was what did the trick in the end. She knew she was sad and alone and she assumed he was as well. That’s why they’d gotten into this mess and the first place, to not be so sad and alone anymore, so it would have been a text she’d regret ignoring, that much she knew.

Things were still different, though. He’d been the one cozied up to her side this time. It was his head resting on her collarbone, his hair tickling her skin. His arms wrapped tightly around her entire body like maybe he really did need her. And that’s how he’d fallen asleep, using her as a pillow while she stayed up, switching between staring out his window and at him. At his back as he inhaled and exhaled evenly. At his face when she periodically pushed his hair out of it and periodically played with said hair. He was asleep anyways, he’d never know the difference.

He had needed someone, she reminded herself. Not anyone in particular. He needed what she needed. But for her, there wasn’t anyone else. No one really quite knew her like Harry did and she wasn’t about to go out tomorrow and find someone to replace him. She’d known him for over a year, having a dormant sense of trust in him even before they started all this. It wasn’t easy for her to jump into things, and even though she knew it wasn’t a piece of cake for him either, he managed better than she ever had.

She had thought about his journal while he slept, and whether or not it was in his nightstand like it usually was. Even with things slowly breaking apart, she could never do that to him. As much as she had wanted to, she couldn’t read through something so personal to him, especially when she didn’t have his permission. She knew she’d grow to resent him a little bit if the roles were reversed.

So, she kept her mind off of it. She had kept her mind off of everything except for the present because it was easier to tolerate. Harry sleeping soundly on her chest like he wanted to be there was all that had mattered.

And when it was Friday night just before people started arriving at his doorstep he missed her all over again. Every single close friend that showed up to his door that wasn’t Y/N didn’t get the same attention he knew he’d give to her.

Luckily for him, however, Will was in charge of something, which meant he’d be arriving earlier than most. Harry had the alcohol covered and a couple of leftover chip bags from previous nights to tide everyone over until Will arrived, even though he still managed to run late, as per usual.

When Will did finally show up, Harry stood in the middle of his foyer, surrounded by others who had just gotten there, completely out of breath. And it wasn’t because he’d just ran around his house like a chicken with its head cut off--which he had done earlier in the evening--it was because of who slid through the doorway right behind Will.

Who was at his house dressed in something other than jeans or sweatpants. Who was, in fact, in something he’d never seen her in before. And if he had, he hadn’t been looking at her with the same pair of eyes he was now.

Will greeted him first, using his free hand to go in for their typical handshake while Harry was still far too preoccupied with Y/N. He stared at her from over Will’s shoulder while she stood there out of place. She made him feel like his brain wasn’t in his head anymore but he somehow operated anyways, no matter how poorly he was doing it. His ears started ringing and he grew uncomfortably hot in his outfit while struggling to make out the words to tell Will to put the fucking cheese and crackers in the kitchen already and leave them be.

“So where’s this girl at?” Will asked suddenly, glancing around the room, unaware that he was pressing every single one of Harry’s nerves.

Harry’s eyes found Y/N again, then went back to Will. He wanted to say that she was here. Right fucking behind you, actually. But Harry reconsidered that decision quickly. “She couldn’t make it.”

He knew Y/N heard him and it hurt to see the way it didn’t seem to bother her at all that he might be talking about some other girl. Then he just hated himself for saying something with any intention to hurt her, just to see if she would be jealous. Will hadn’t really left him with much of a choice, but Y/N deserved better regardless.

“Fuck, I wanted to meet her and talk some sense into her for you, but oh well.” Will patted Harry’s shoulder before heading off.

Once he was finally gone, once she was the only thing left in Will’s absence, she averted her wandering gaze from the other people around them and met Harry’s eyes. She bit back her resentment and worked up enough muscles in her face to fake a smile, even though Harry just blankly stared at her.

Then he snapped out of it when she handed him a bag full of various chips she and Will had picked up along the way to his house.

He took it from her, mostly as an excuse to pull her just a little bit closer. He wrapped his free arm around her back like he was greeting a friend and thanking her for buying his favorite flavor of Doritios. It was innocent, to everyone else. But just between them, he brought his mouth to her ear and said something a little less predictable.

“You clean up nice.”

She rolled her eyes and hugged him reluctantly. It was hard accepting his compliment and feeling his hands on her when her skin burned with jealousy.

“I thought I told you to tell me if you wanted to be with someone.” She whispered back.

When he pulled her in front of him again and saw the sad look on her face, he hated both himself and Will in that moment.

“I--” Harry started but then his annoyance with Will hit an all time high when he heard the other boy calling her name from the kitchen.

She gave Harry another fake smile and started off to find Will. He tasted all the regret when he watched her walk away, staring at her dress and the way it hugged her in all the right places. The way it came to just the middle of her thighs and he realized that’s what he’d missed out on the night they went to sleep with a little less clothes on. That’s what he’d been missing out on ever since, and that’s what he would continue to miss out on if he didn’t do something.

And so he decided tonight was the night. He would tell her everything. And if she didn’t feel the same then at least he tried. At least he’d finally be open with his feelings that had come to an agonizing head the past couple of weeks.

Maybe he had been foolishly in love with the little things he learned about her all those nights ago. And maybe he had gone without someone for so long, he just needed anyone who cared to hold him at night. But it wasn’t just some silly crush or craving intimacy anymore. It was real.

He knew that before he went to New York, he was sure of it. But letting her slip right through his fingers like he’d been doing made him certain of it as he watched her now. He was in love with her, not the way she made him feel or the idea of her. Just her.

By midnight they were drunk. Beyond that, actually. Wasted was a better word for it, and they were wasted enough that all the tension between them washed away with the tequila.

Y/N was so drunk, she completely forgot about their conversation earlier in the night. She took off her shoes and truly let go while singing the lyrics to Drunk In Love at her fullest volume, not a single care in the world about Harry’s love life. She was gone, as gone as Harry who did the exact same thing right beside her. Bumping shoulders with each other while everyone in the room acted as if they were at a full-fledged Beyoncé concert and not Harry’s living room. It made him happy inside again, warm and summery. Maybe it was the alcohol, having lost count of how much he’d had to drink, but either way, he was happy.

And she seemed that way too, particularly when she turned to him, grabbed his arms and danced with him exclusively. Like Will wasn’t in the room anymore. Like nobody was in the room at all. It was just the two of them… and Beyoncé.

They flailed around together for a while, taking another shot each, clicking their glasses together until she fell against him, her arms reaching up around his neck for support. She still danced though, still moved her body to the right beat. And he was too drunk to care about them having their hands all over each other in front of everyone.

When he did start to care was when it was far past midnight and he was sleepy. Others had already claimed their spots around his house if they were too drunk to drive themselves home. It had definitely started to empty out when others, who were far less intoxicated went home. He just didn’t remember when they’d said goodbye.

Will had already claimed an entire sofa when he passed out there around an hour ago, being the first to drop. Y/N and Harry the last ones as they somehow managed to hold each other upright in the middle of the living room again, swaying along to Harry’s oldies playlist and fucking up all the lyrics their sober minds knew by heart.

When he got particularly sleepy, his forehead just sort of fell onto her shoulder with a mind of its own and he cuddled into her neck while things got a little less silly between them.

“Do you even need me anymore?” He asked, and even though his voice felt like a dream, she knew it was real the way his breath tickled her skin and the way he held her waist a little bit tighter.

“Do you?” She retorted.

“Always,” he answered quickly.

And just as quickly, she pulled away from him, far enough that he had to hold the weight of his head up on his own while she glanced between his eyes to see if he was serious or not.

They stared at each other, neither ready to look away again for a long while. It took him glancing at her lips to get them both to snap out of it. To realize they were swaying awkwardly to Aretha Franklin in the middle of his fucking living room.

“Can we go upstairs?” She whispered.

It was then when he realized what he had wanted to say to her had gone tragically unsaid. He hadn’t done jack shit he’d wanted to, the only thing he managed was screaming lyrics into her ear and desperately seeking her validation, if either of those counted as saying anything to her at all.

So he made his move.

Grabbing her hand, he led the way toward the stairs, but when he paused abruptly to turn off the music and the lights, her body collided against his back and they both laughed uncontrollably. Going upstairs this drunk was a dumb idea, but it didn’t seem to cross either of their minds as they continued on.

Once they were out of immediate eyesight in case anyone woke up and spotted them, he whisked her off to his bedroom where they could do what they did best. Where they could be connected, and not just be two drunken, missing puzzle pieces stumbling around alone in the world again.

She followed him, letting him pull her along up the stairs while they both shushed each other when their giggling got too loud.

He closed the door once she was in his room with him and neither of them cared too much anymore about being loud or getting caught. She separated from him then, dancing her way over to his closet for her spare clothes while he plopped down on the edge of his bed and waited for her, kicking his shoes off in the meantime.

She was back moments later with her dress gone and just a shirt in its place, but it was one that didn’t belong to her. Staring at her across the room as she stood in just his black t-shirt sobered Harry right up. The dress she wore had been one thing but this was... his inebriated brain couldn’t even process it.

Swallowing, he moved his hands to the buttons on his shirt but never took his eyes off of her.

She walked over and carefully helped him just like she had done before. This time, though, once his shirt was off, she stared a little longer. He watched her eyes bounce around lazily from each tattoo like she’d been dying to see them this entire time. He stood in front of her while tugging his pants off quickly. They were close, fewer layers between them again. And they were drunk.

She moved around him to her side of the bed and he watched as she crawled in before he joined her under the covers naturally, like there hadn’t been a split between them whatsoever the past few weeks. Like they were them again before New York happened. Everything finally felt right in the world again.

They laid facing each other, both keeping their hands to themselves. His arms didn’t stretch around her frame the way they always did because he was far too lost in her eyes. They weren’t so dull anymore but instead looked normal, like her eyes that trusted him and cared about him and needed him.

“Harry?” She whispered, pulling him out of whatever distant land he’d just gone to.

“Hm?”

“How many tattoos do you have exactly?”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her. He had the same old Y/N back that told her little comic-relief jokes and never failed to make him smile. He was warm again.

“I dunno.” He chuckled a bit louder than anticipated, but when she joined right along with him, it didn’t matter so much.

Without even thinking of the consequences, she moved her hand to his face, cupping his jaw like soft linen against his rough, grainy stubble. And then she pressed her thumb into his dimple, not unlike the last time she’d done it, and made him laugh even more. 

She kept her fingers in his hair, and the next time they were back to watching each other in a comfortable silence was different. He wasn’t looking at her eyes, at least not for all of it. He glanced at her lips once quickly, but enough for her to notice, and then landed back on her eyes. Like he was asking for permission. And she gave him a subtle, but definitely there, nod.

He scooted closer then, watching her face for any signs that he should stop. When he didn't find any, he carefully rested his hand on the side of her face, watching as her eyes fluttered shut with the feeling of his touch on her skin.

He waited until she opened her eyes. Until she saw him and knew he was about to kiss her. That his face would be the only one she saw when he pressed his forehead against hers.

His breathing was erratic and she couldn’t get her lungs to function properly. But either way it was happening, even if she had to pass out. She was kissing Harry whether or not her lack of oxygen killed her.

The last thing she saw before he closed the gap between their mouths was his smile. And then he melted it right against hers. All of the time he spent daydreaming about it was nothing compared to the real thing. Not when she clasped her own hands around the sides of his face and went a little deeper. Not when his fingers slipped through her hair to the back of her neck and he breathed in the sweet smell of her shampoo. Not when she moved her lips against his in ways that made the immobile butterfly on his stomach flap its wings.

Until, of course, she pulled away with a gasp. Both their lips pouted and damp and begging to be kissed again. She looked at him like she’d just realized what they were doing. Like she was about to push him off of her because they definitely should not be fucking kissing right now. But instead, all it took was one last glance at his mouth before she was all over it again.

He fell slowly to his back thanks to the unrelenting way she kissed him. It was like she couldn’t get enough of him, like she’d never kissed anyone before this way or maybe not even at all. And she never wanted to stop. He moaned into her mouth when she pulled more of her weight on top of him, digging her fingers into his hair. And he kissed her back, of course, as if no one he had ever kissed before came anywhere close to how she made him feel. All he saw behind his eyelids was bright yellow and all he felt inside his body was a hot summer day on the beach in California. His hands digging into the soft sand that smelled peculiarly like coconuts…

He got lost there for a while until she did it again, until she broke contact and stared at him the way he wished she’d stop doing. But when he moved to reconnect their mouths, she backed away even further until not a single one of her body parts was on top of him or touching him at all.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, laying flat on her back with her palm on her forehead and her fingers twisted into her hair where he wanted his to be again. “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“Wh-” He started, being immediately cut off by the way she covered her face with her hands. Embarrassment. He knew that emotion on her all too well. She was embarrassed that she’d kissed him.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” Her voice was like crisp autumn air cutting his summer short and there was nothing he could do to stop it. “Can we go to sleep and act like that didn’t just happen?”

Although he wanted nothing to do with forgetting about it, he didn’t want to upset her more. He’d rather never kiss or touch her ever again than make her upset or uncomfortable. So, he nodded his head and pulled her into him like nothing had happened after all. Even though it killed him.

Even though he still hadn’t said anything he’d wanted to and now he wasn’t sure if he should.

Maybe it was a huge mistake. It didn’t feel as wrong as his previous mistakes involving Y/N, but she still made it feel that way. She made it feel like the worst thing they could have done was be drunk and make-out in his bed. And maybe it was. Nothing had gone the way he planned it in his head, but he had been fine with that. Until she wasn’t fine with it.

She was up before him, gone before he even blinked a single eye open. It was like her first night here all over again when he woke to a cold, empty bed and his heart sunk in his chest.

Instead of her he found a thin piece of fabric, and after bunching it up in his fist, he brought it in front of his face. He untangled it and blinked a few times, confused until he realized what it was. His shirt. The one she’d put on last night that nearly had him drooling.

And then he remembered what happened. He still felt her on his lips, burning like fresh mint. He went back further into his memories from the previous night and realized why she was gone.

Will.

He figured everything out when he walked downstairs and found her on the couch where she was supposed to be. Where Will would wake up next to her in an hour and not suspect a damn thing. He might have some words about why they’d been dancing on each other last night, if he even remembered it, but at least he wouldn’t know that they slept in the same bed. And he especially wouldn’t know about that kiss.

Harry escaped back upstairs once he knew where she was. Once he couldn’t stand another second around people, even if they were all dead asleep. He didn't even want to see any of them. He wanted to be alone in his bed where he could cry his stupid, hungover eyes out.

“Is there… something going on with you and Harry?” Will asked, breaking the awkward tension in the car ride home from Harry’s.

She shot her eyes over to him in a panic, “No, why?”

“I swear you guys were dancing all over each other. You never even talk to him.”

Her heart started to race as she thought of an excuse, any excuse to throw him off of thinking about that any longer.

“I don’t even remember anything from last night, Will.” She lied.

He was quiet, but his face was still skeptical, so she went on pulling some morally questionable strings to get him to believe her. “You know I’m not into any of that.”

Nodding, he sighed and that seemed to do the trick. “I know. He’s just… really messed up right now and I was worried about you getting involved with him.”

“I’m not.” She said, with a little too much confidence. “He’s nice but I don’t like him like that.”

She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince more in that moment, Will or herself.

Her stomach fluttered all weekend every time the mere thought of Harry crossed her mind. It only got worse when she found one of his sweaters at the bottom of her hamper or when the scent of his cologne still lingered on her sheets. When she got a glimpse of her dress peeking out of her closet and remembered how it looked in a pile on his floor. When she showered and suddenly all her things looked like they didn’t belong in her own bathroom. When she tasted the tequila as it came back up Saturday morning and couldn’t help tasting him as well.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t convince herself that she didn’t like him as easily as she’d convinced Will. She didn’t want to like him anymore, not since he came home from New York, but she couldn’t quite convince herself of that yet either.

And then he’d kissed her.

What the fuck was she supposed to do with that?

By Monday at work she stopped fighting how she felt about him. He kissed her and there had to be a reason for it. Maybe her chances with him weren’t as nonexistent as she thought they were and maybe he did actually like her the way she wanted him to.

She couldn’t help but wonder, however, if it had just been a side effect of getting Harry properly drunk. They both were. Will had plenty of stories about how clingy Harry was when he got wasted, so maybe that’s all this was. Maybe he was just drunk and doing stupid things like the stupid thing he’d done in New York. She remembered his and Will’s conversation at the party. The girl that apparently couldn’t make it. Harry hadn’t looked at Y/N or kissed her that night like he had anyone else on his mind.

After work, she gained the courage to text him. It was no use sitting around overthinking things. She had to know if he felt at all the same way she did. If he’d want to kiss her again while they were sober.

With shaky fingers, she typed out her message to him. Although she hesitated before hitting send, there was still a sigh of relief when she finally did.

(Y/N, 5:43 pm)

Can I come over tonight?

It was like it always was. Same positions, same view out his massive window. The only difference when she arrived was the ‘For Sale’ sign out front reminding her that his time in this house was temporary. That he was going to leave it and all the memories they had together behind him the second someone made the right offer.

But everything else, it was all the same.

“So you’re really moving then, huh?” She asked, curled up into his chest as if nothing had happened Friday night. The kiss seemingly erased from his memories completely and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. She’d gone in hoping he would do something, but he never even mentioned it and so she decided that she wouldn’t either.

“Finally found an apartment in the West Hollywood area. Figured it was time.”

She felt her body droop, like she’d gotten her hopes up that maybe he’d change his mind about leaving. He’d be a further and harder drive to get to with traffic, but she guessed it would still work. She just didn't want to change at all. She wanted to stare out at his view for the rest of her life.

“I don’t want you to move.” She knew it was one of the first times she’d really laid her heart right out there with how nervous it made her to say that one simple sentence. She felt better once it was out though, like maybe her opinion on his changing zip code mattered enough to make him stay. And she didn’t often feel like any of her opinions ever made too much of a difference.

He rolled his eyes down toward her, “Have properties in London I want to put the money in, I’m afraid. Wasn’t even going to bother getting an apartment here until…” He stopped himself before he said something that crossed another line as if kissing her hadn’t been enough. She didn't need to know he only wanted a semi-permanent home in L.A. because of her. Because his rocky and indecisive plans changed the first night she slept over. Even if he didn’t want to keep his current house, he still wanted to be close to her. Gauging her reaction after they’d kissed, however, telling her any of that would be stupid.

“Until what?”

He shook his head and yawned. “Nevermind.”

She narrowed her eyes at him though, wishing she knew everything that was going on inside his head. If only she could be a fly on the wall inside that brain of his then life might be easier.

“So you won’t even think about staying?”

He sighed and turned onto his back, keeping his arm around her as she adjusted beside him. “Why should I?”

She didn’t say anything else after that. Even when he glanced at her sideways for any good excuse for him to stay. Her heart broke though when, with that simple little question, she finally got her answers. He didn’t feel the same way. He didn’t want to kiss her again. He didn’t want to stay in his house. He didn’t want to preserve all the memories they’d had here together. It meant nothing to him the way it did to her.

She didn’t have any other reasons besides selfish ones to answer his question, so she didn’t. It was his money and his life. She had nothing to do with it.

But he wanted her to. He wanted her to say everything to make him stay. And so when she was quiet, it was just another blow to his chest. Another piece of evidence that she didn’t care about him the way he thought she might. Especially after they’d kissed. He thought maybe something might change, but here they were, pretending it never fucking happened. Convincing each other that it bothered neither of them if he were to move.

He fell asleep shortly after that while she stayed up. While she watched the profile of his face as he ventured off to dreamland, wondering if he’d ever dreamt about her like she had him. If he’d ever thought about her while he was alone like she did. If he wanted her at all in the same way she wanted him.

Thinking about his lips again wasn’t her best idea, especially not when they were right in front of her and she could do nothing about it.

Until her phone buzzed on his bedside table where she’d left it and she got a break from her own mind. She grabbed it from behind her without looking so she didn’t disturb Harry too badly. It dinged again once she had her hand wrapped around it, but once the screen was lighting up her face, she realized it wasn’t her phone at all.

She’d already seen it though, and she mentally cursed Harry for having the same phone as her and putting her in this position. There were two texts stacked together on his lock screen but she’d only seen the most recent one before clicking his phone off and putting it back.

The stupid fucking text still flashed in her mind when she shut her eyes tight to stop thinking about it. It wasn’t entirely that she’d unintentionally read his private conversation, it was the contents of it that turned her heart into a cinder block weighing down on her chest. And more than just the contents, it was the name of the person messaging him.

(Jess, 10:56 pm)

And maybe we can hang out this week?

Jess. Like the Jessica he’d slept with in New York.

She didn’t want to overreact for no reason, but she couldn’t really help her mind from spiraling out of control, even if she did curl up beside him again. Even if a few tears spilled out onto his shirt while she thought about losing him. While she thought about letting him go. He didn’t have to stay and do anything for her. She’d let him walk right out of her life if he wanted to. And if he was too chicken to tell her he didn’t want her around anymore, then she’d be the first to go.

It was time.

Because even if Jess had nothing to do with anything, she was miserable the way they were. Her constantly falling hopelessly in love with him every time she saw him, just to be left disappointed. It wasn’t healthy. And if she left now, it would be a clean break. Cold turkey. She’d kissed him and got his sad, but honest answer.

He didn’t want her. He didn’t need her. He was just drunk, doing stupid things.

She was up well before him, not that she got much sleep all night anyways. It was the first time, however, that she’d woken up without his touch as he had his back to her, a good chunk of space in between them. The distance only cemented her decision.

She tiptoed to his bathroom, where her various things had been taking up root in his shower and on his counter. She’d become more comfortable than the first time she set anything down in his bathroom. They weren’t so organized anymore as they once had been and she didn’t pay much attention to how much space she was taking up until his bathroom suddenly felt cold and empty.

She wiped a tear from under her eye, not allowing it to escape down her cheek as she gave one last once-over of the bathroom before she flipped off the light and left.

He didn’t even stir the tiniest bit while she gathered more of her things. While she cleared out her drawer in his closet and lingered at his pink suit jacket, wishing she could go back to that time when everything hadn’t gone to absolute shit yet.

The last thing she did, before she took the stairs out of his life completely, was peak out the curtains. She couldn’t stand to look at him alone in his bed, knowing he might not care that she’d be gone when he woke up. So she took in that view L.A. for what might be the last time and tried to convince herself to stay. No matter what she told herself, however, the rational parts of her brain won. And so, she slung her bag over her shoulder and left him.

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[flying-nightwing]

Pink and Totalitarianism Always Go Hand in Hand

Here’s the promised crack fic. Disclaimer, this is terrible in every and any form, because it is meant to be that way. If you want quality, structure, a story that makes sense, this ain’t it chief. This is certified Crack. If you finish this and all you can say is something along the lines of “what the fuck”, my work here is done. (Besides, this isn’t edited to add to the overall crack vibe)

Enjoy and good luck, because it get worse and worse as it goes

Masterlist in bio // pinned post

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Word count: 4626

Warnings: Mention of drugs, light non-graphic violence, language

Summary: You’re stuck in a world that does not make sense, alone and surrounded by secret police and spies that will report you to the government. One early morning, Jason appears in your living room. His arrival gives you an opportunity to get the hell out of there for good. 

You had taken a habit of sleeping lightly.

You, who had once cherished your sleep like it was the rarest gem in the world. Yet, you found out you had still severely underappreciated its importance in your life, something you realized only when it was gone. You missed it like an old friend who was gone to war and died on the front, leaving words forever unsaid. What would you do for just one more night in your bed, with your own pillows and that drool stain that just wouldn’t leave anymore, sleeping like a log until the late morning. Or just a nap, that even would be enough. But you were far from home now, and you didn’t have a lot of hope you’d ever come back. 

When you heard a loud thump in the living room, your eyes flew open and your muscles tensed. Pushing off the pink comforter and pulling on the equally pink robe that was draped over the wooden chair, you carefully made your way down the corridor and toward the sound. A man dressed in black and red, with a red helmet complementing his strange outfit was standing there, looking around like he was trying to understand what was going on. You plastered a smile on your face. 

“Hiya there” The corner of your mouth hurt from the strain of smiling so wide. “Can I help you?”

“Uh?” He looked up, and even through his helmet you could assume his eyes were wide with confusion. They wouldn’t get you this time, you’d make sure of it. He didn’t fool anyone. “Where am I?”

“Silly!” You laughed, waving your hand in a small dismissive gesture. “We’re in Happy Town, obviously!”

“Uh?” He repeated, already visibly exhausted. That one agent lasted longer than the last, you had to give him that. His confusion was credible and well played down to the last detail. “Listen, lady, I’m sorry I crashed your house but I need you to point me toward Metropolis”

“Metropolis? I haven’t heard of a city of that name” You didn’t drop the smile. The goddamn smile. “Although, you are quite illegal sir, black and red are prohibited colors”

“... What?” 

“I’m afraid you’ll need to change” You explained. “Luckily for you, I have spares in the bedroom. Come along”

“Wait, prohibited?” He repeated, and you nodded eagerly. A test, it’s always a test. “What colors aren’t prohibited then?”

“Well, pink, you silly goose!”

He stared at you for the longest time. “What the fuck”

You froze. Actual agents were not allowed to swear, under any circumstances. They were physically not able to, even. “What did you say?”

“I said what the fuck”

You let your smile drop and sighed in relief. “Oh thank fuck”

“Hey, stay with me” He waved a hand in your face. “What the fuck is going on? Where am I?”

“Okay, we don’t have a lot of time, but basically” You paused, looking around to make sure all of your curtains were closed. You found a way to disable your microphones, but you had only to sunrise before they turned back on again. It was less suspicious that way, when you could attribute the lack of sound to you sleeping. Besides, you couldn’t risk you saying incriminating things in your sleep. “We are in a side dimension called Happy Town, but things are sketchy here. I don’t know what they are hiding, but if you don’t stick to their gimmick to the letter, you’re going to reeducation camps and stuff. This is some serious brainwashing, and I’m talking worse than Scientology”

“Fuck” He swore, taking off his helmet. “How did I get here?”

“Some portal, I dropped in the same place you did” You spoke quickly, in a hushed tone. “I haven’t found a way out, obviously, but if you came from Earth too, I’m betting there’s something I missed”

“This is insane” 

“You tell me” You scoffed. “And you haven’t even seen how bonkers this place really is yet”

“Do I really have to wear pink?” He flinched, and your eyes widened.

“Yes, you do!” You replied. “They will have you under scrutinization as soon as you step out of this house. If you want to survive, you must follow the rules to the letter. They don’t fuck around, I tell ya. When I first appeared, all the neighbors moved away and were immediately replaced by other creepier neighbors. I swear they’re spies. They’re all spies!”

“Wait, how long have you been there?”

“I don’t know, years?” You guessed. Could have been any measure of time really, you couldn’t know for sure. “I have no idea how I got through their brainwashing sessions. Either I outsmarted them, or they have no idea what they’re doing. It’s better not to take any chance, though”

“This is fucked up” He sighed and sat on the couch. “Besides wearing pink, what do I have to do?”

“Oh boy, sit tight” You began pacing in front of him. You didn’t know him, but he was your best chance at getting the hell out of here. Your bed now seemed a little bit closer now, even though you knew you’d never sleep the same. “It’s not just the clothing that’s pink, it’s any fabric, by the way, because happy people like pink”

It was like he was now aware that every couch, chair, carpet, curtain in your house was actually pink. 

“You gotta smile, always. You gotta look like chuck-e-cheese on crack” You continued, pacing in front of him. “Talking of which, never, EVER eat pie. I don’t know what’s in it, but it messes with your brain. Always find an excuse or distraction to avoid eating it”

“I’m not--”

“Never allude to the microphones you might find, act like you’ve never seen them and have no idea they’re there” You added. “Also, tomorrow we’ll have to get you registered if we don’t want the secret police to storm the house. You’ll have to follow my lead or we’re both dead, got it?”

“Yeah but--”

“Don’t say anything incriminating during the day” You interrupted him again. “I tweaked the microphones so they’re scrambled from midnight to sunrise. But that’s it. Also, always assume anyone you talk to is a spy or a snitch. It’s the Stasi all over again here, you can’t trust anyone who you don’t hear swear, which is nobody”

“Wai wait” He stopped you as you opened your mouth to continue on. “Why?”

“Because the people from here cannot swear, happy people don’t swear, they smile and giggle” You felt your eye twitch as you recited the lines you were fed over and over again. “The people engineered here are not able to, only those they kidnapped from Earth. Bad news is, beside that, they are virtually non-differentiable from each other. And they all wear those stupid pink clothes, only the regular police wears a darked shade of magenta. Other than that, all the same”

Confusion and horror was evident on his face. He sat there, processing it all as your eyes fell on the clock. You had about ten minutes until the first rays of sun showed up and reactivated the mics. “There’s no way back?” He finally asked.

“Not that I know of yet” You wrapped your hands around yourself. “You know, I have been begging for help out of this hell hole. You might be the key. Anyway, we gotta change you into something non offensive before they find out you’re here”

You dragged him in the bedroom, leaving him at the threshold while you rummaged through the dresser. All those clothes had been there too when you popped in the house, as if they had known exactly what they were doing by bringing you here. However, it wasn’t clear whether or not they had planned for their new citizen to be you. Ad judging by the arsenal of weapons on the new guy, ir reinforced your theory that the actual selection was still experimental. You weren’t exactly the shut up and obey type, and you doubted he was either.

“What’s your name?” You asked as you pulled a pink cardigan out of a drawer. It occured to you that you might have to know what to call him. Polite people knew the name of their housemate. You grabbed a yet again pink pair of slacks and pushed the clothes in his hands.

“Uh, Jason” He replied, surprised at the sudden income of pink fabric. You threw him the socks, suspenders, bow tie, belt and dress shirt that was, you guessed it, the exact same color as the rest. He was covered in pink clothes like a coat hanger.

“(Y/N)”

“Hey, I’m not wearing that” He objected as he took a better look at the clothes. His face turned to disdain as he shook his head like he had drank bad milk. “Nope, no way”

“If you don’t wear pink, they’ll kill you” You said through your teeth.

“No, I’m not talking about the pink” He said, his expression unchanging. He pulled the cardigan and held it up. “This. This won’t do at all. I’m not wearing a fucking cardigan”

You stared at him, wide eyed. You didn’t have the time to deal with that, sunrise was a few minutes away!

“You will wear that cardigan or so help me” You said in a low, yet threatening voice. He recoiled. “Suck. It. Up.”

Wordlessly, he headed for the bathroom on the other side of the bedroom. He changed in two minutes, coming back awkwardly with his pile of dark clothes. You picked them from him and walked to that spot just beside your bed, and kneeled. You unscrewed the floor board, which was already loose, and you deposited the bundle, weapons and all, next to a very, very dusty blue jeans and burgundy coat. You hurried to replace everything like it hadn’t been touched and stood up again to face an all pink, visibly uncomfortable Jason. He was tying his bow, a displeased frown on his face. It made you wonder what was his life before. He changed rather quickly, and didn’t seem confused by the way bow ties worked.

“What now?”

“We gel your hair”

“No” His eyes widened. The wake up siren sounded outside, and like a reflex learned through violent lessons, your face pulled into a pained smile. You still made a zipping motion over your mouth, pointing to the bathroom. With a silent sigh, he complied.

---

His smile looked unnatural.

But again, so did yours probably. So did everyone’s. Smiling that much wasn’t natural for anyone or anything but perhaps a hyena. Or a clown. You walked arms in arms with him, waving at people sending you curious glances, their smiles unwavering. The government was already aware of this presence, either because they zapped him there or because they heard your made up meeting conversation through the microphones. 

“Okay, I see what you meant by everyone is a spy” He muttered through his teeth, making sure his lips weren’t moving. He was holding to his grin like it was a lifeline. And it was. 

“Right?” You replied in the same manner. “So don’t slip”

“I won’t”

“Well hello there!”

You jumped in surprise at the Mayor appearing in front of you, seemingly out of nowhere. You put your free hand on your heart and laughed. “Hi there, you startled me good!”

He laughed. Jason laughed. It all seemed forced. 

“I see we have an addition in Happy Town!” The mayor pointed to Jason, nodding in approval at his attire. “Where did you come from?”

His first test.

“I… Came from Earth!” He replied with enthusiasm. “Although I have to say, I looooove this place. It’s so… Happy!”

Well played, Jason. Well played.

“I am so glad to hear you say that” He placed a “friendly” pat on his shoulder, but he seemed satisfied. “What is your name, lad?”

“Dick Grayson, sir” 

You swallowed back your confusion at his words, but also at the hint of genuine smile that crossed his expression. Keep smiling.

“Well Mr. Grayson, welcome to Happy Town!” They shook hands. “I see Miss (Y/N) is already taking care of you, integrating you nicely in our community”

His gaze shifted to you as a silent warning behind those cold, smiling eyes. You had your fair history of problems with them, but they had every reason to think it was over now. Still, the warning lingered. But those pink assholes wouldn’t catch you this time.

“I’ll make sure he becomes one of us in no time!” You assured, giving a light nod to Jason.

“No doubt you’ll make an amazing couple” He tipped his pink hat and you noticed Jason held back a cough of surprise. “The daily play of the anthem is about to start, I must return to city hall. I’ll see you around!”

He waved. You waved. Jason waved. He walked away with a skip in his step like the happy jerk he was.

“Couple?” He said, coming back to your public mode of communicating. 

“Sorry, I should have warned you” You sighed internally.

“Sorry?”

“Yeah!” You wanted to burst out so bad. “What about it, Dick Grayson?”

“I wasn’t about to give them my real name” He defended, watching around for people noticing your hushed conversation. But everybody was preparing for the anthem, their attention directed to the morning messages man on the giant screens.

“So you gave that poor guy’s instead?”

“Poor? Nah. Relax, he can take care of himself” What you were sure was a chuckle escaped his lips. “Besides, he’s not even--”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please rise for our national anthem”

You elbowed Jason and stood up straight, the sun hitting the side of your face. He mimicked your posture. The music started, and you could see faltering in the corner of your eye.

“Is this--”

“Yes”

“What the fuck”

“I know”

“Whyyyyyyy”

“Stay with me” You urged silently. You really didn’t know how or why Happy Town’s anthem came to be ‘Yeah!’ by Usher feat Lil Jon and Ludacris, but even if you did, now was not the ideal time or place to get into that kind of discussion. You suspected it had something to do with the exclamation mark after the ‘yeah’. But you could be wrong. You still didn’t understand the bigger picture however, since the lyrics clearly contained the word ‘not’ followed directly by ‘happy’ in the first verse, which made ‘not happy’. It was against the party line. 

“Okay, we stage a coup tonight” He decided as the song ended. “I don’t think I can do this another day”

----

Midnight came slowly.

After a day of mingling and presenting Jason as Dick Grayson and your future husband like the Mayor had most probably hinted at during your morning encounter, of slyly getting out of eating pie and avoiding the police, you were glad to finally breathe. 

“UUUUGH” Jason whined, plopping on the couch. “I can never look at the color pink the same way ever again. I’m sick of it, sick of it!”

“Get it together!” You snapped. “We need to plan our coup. We’ve got one shot for it, and if it fails we’re toast. I need my bed, Jason. MY BED”

“Alright, what do you have in mind?” He asked, taking a deep breath. “You know this place more than I do”

“I say tomorrow night, we quietly follow the police after their curfew patrol round” You began, biting the skin around your nails. “How good is your stealth?”

He looked at you blankly for a good ten seconds before he let out a small, ironic snort. “Above average, I’d say”

It was like he wanted you to ask why he’d think that, but you were too busy thinking about your plan. “Good, good” You nodded. “There must be some headquarters somewhere. All we have to do is get there, threaten them at gunpoint--Your guns are functional yes?”

“Obviously”

“--So they’ll zap us back to Earth. And if not, we shoot the mayor and take control of this hell”

“That escalated quickly,” He stated. “But what the hell, sure, I’m on board. Let’s go”

“Tomorrow the sun sets at 8:07. We’ll need to be changed and ready to go by then”

“Wait, tomorrow?” He sprung up in his seat, eyes wide. “No, no. I can’t take one more day of pink cardigans and pleasant conversations with spies!”

“DEAL WITH IT” You gestured wildly before calming down almost instantly. You didn’t need the neighbors to hear and report a fight. “Patrol is already over for today. Be smart about this”

“Fine” He sighed aggressively. “But if this flops, I’m taking everyone down with me. There won’t be an after tomorrow, I can fucking tell you”

“Yeah I won’t stop you”

“Good”

“Good.”

You stayed there in silence, unmoving for a moment. This was it. The moment you’ve been waiting for. Your liberation. Your bed was less than 24 hours a day if things went as planned, which you hoped it would. 

“I’ll… Sleep on the couch” He mumbled after a while, moving to lay down. YOur eyes widened.

“You can’t” You objected, knowing the government would find a way to find out the scam you were running through that detail. 

“Why not?”

“If the secret police comes for a surprise inspection and your side of the bed is cold, we’re kaputt” You explained. “We’re supposed to be at the very least fiancés, remember?”

“God fucking dammit” He swore, looking up at the sky like it would help him. Ha, you already tried that and it didn’t work.

---

The next day, as you prepared the decaf pot of coffee because happy people didn’t need caffeine to be happy, a knock sounded on your door. Jason was taking a shower in the bathroom, so you went and opened the door. Like you had predicted, two men in dark magenta stood at your doorstep with dangerous looking smiles. 

“Good morning ma’am” One greeted with a tip of his hat. “This is a surprise inspection, warranted by the new arrivant in your household, name Dick Grayson and title husband to be. May we come in?”

Your smile widened as you stepped aside, like you actually had a choice in the matter.

“Of course!” You exclaimed. “Coffee, officers?”

“We’ll have to politely decline, thank you” The other smiled as they came in and observed the clean state of the house. All houses were required to be neat and clean at all times. They looked around for something out of place, slowly but surely directing themselves to the bedroom at the end of the hall. You followed them a few paces away, ready to answer their question if they had some. It wasn’t your first surprise check. 

They finally reached the room, from where they could hear the shower running. Their gazes caught the neatly folded pink pile on the bed, then they surrounded it. They started to feel under the comforter and drapes, on the pillows, everywhere they could spot the presence or absence of another person. You called it, oh you so called it.

The shower stopped, and both officers shared a look. “Alright, everything is in order ma’am. Have a good breakfast and a good day!”

You escorted them to the door, threw them a thank you on the way and silently sighed once the door closed behind them. You returned to your coffee, and not long after, Jason emerged from the hallway all dressed in pink.

“Ooh, who were the gentlemen here?” He inquired cheerily, but you knew what it meant. 

“Some nice officers came to see if we were doing fine here!” You replied with equal cheer.

“Shucks, I missed them” He snapped his fingers, chuckling. “Next time perhaps”

“Of course!” The pep in your voice did not match your eye roll. Thank god there were no cameras. 

You finished breakfast and went to town once again, like you did everyday. You felt like everyone was staring at you even more than usual. Like they all knew what you planned for that night. You might have been slightly paranoid, but Jason’s calm demeanor was helping. He was good at that, like he had practiced for all of his life to deceive people.

The mayor bothered you again after the daily play of the anthem, a song you were sure would elicit a violent reaction from you once you would be back in the real world. Then, you repeated the same daily routine you had had forever. Smile, avoid the pie, smile, talk with the neighbors-spies, smile, think about how life is amazing, smile.

Smile smile smile smile smile smile. 

Eurgh.

That night, the pleasant conversations contained codes to trump the microphones. Jason pretended to dance while you unscrewed the loose floorboard and carefully placed his clothes and weapons on the bed. You picked your old clothes, quietly dusting them off. They smelled weird but you were excited to wear something other than pepto bismol dyed fabric. Making sure the curtains were drawn, you proceeded to change. Jason looked ecstatic to finally be rid of his cardigan, while you took a moment to appreciate your black t-shirt and burgundy coat. While he had his red helmet, he handed you a domino mask from his pocket. You had no idea why he had that, but you took it anyway. It looked cool and rebel. You sneaked through the back door, avoiding the spots of light by either lamps outside your house and street posts. You watched the patrol casually making sure everyone was inside, keeping a good distance in between you and them at every time. They weren’t talking, but whistling some creepy tunes. You had to make a small hike through a hill when they entered a gated tunnel, but you ended up in front of a giant factory where workers dressed in grey buzzed around with crates. YOu gasped.

“Illegal” You muttered.

“What?”

You shook your head. They had gotten to you too much, it was time you left that god forsaken place. “Nevermind. How do we go through that barbed wire?”

He pulled out a medium sized pair of cutters from… You had no idea where, but he had them. You shrugged, gesturing to him to go ahead. In a blink, you were in. You sneaked inside without being seen, navigating the building with guesses and feelings. You finally ended up in the main production room, where crates of products were opened and emptied in a giant bassin. The stirred liquid was purple and smelled strange, but you knew it was to do no good. And right beside, there was the pie filling packaging. 

“I knew it!” You hissed under your breath. “They’re putting drugs in the pie! Can you see what it is? Cocaine? Heroin?

“Doesn’t seem like…” He leaned in. “Wait…”

“Al-- Allegra?” You managed to read the crate.”Never heard of it, but it must be terrible and dangerous”

Jason turned his head and stared at you. HIs helmet bore no expression, but you were sure he looked at you like you were dumb. Did he know what it was? “Are you kidding me?”

“No, why?”

“Allegra is--” He sighed. “It’s allergy medication. It’s… Not drugs per say”

“Uh?”

“God dammit--” He paused as something caught his eyes. It was sparkly, and unfit for this environment. From it emerged five armed guys dressed in earth clothes. They had a bag of white substance, which was tasted by the man who welcomed them. “Of fuck, THAT’s cocaine” 

You waited as they put some of it in a vial, which already had purple liquid. 

“Fuck, they mix it with allegra?” He cursed, mostly to himself. “What kind of fucking insane dimension did I step in?” 

“I told you”

“Okay, so those guys will have to leave eventually” Jason pointed at the visibly Earth humans. “We’ll make sure we catch it as well”

“But they have machine guns” You pointed out, not sure how his mind worked. 

“Wait for my signal” You knew he was grinning under that helmet. Before you could ask him how the fuck he would manage five armed guys, he jumped over the rail and started running toward them. You shut your eyes shut as gunshots went off, then opened them again when it was silent. There were bodies around, but Jason was still standing, wrestling with two guys. You watched for a few seconds when you noticed a pink figure sneakily approaching from behind, a frying pan in his hand.

The mayor!

You jumped over the rail too, but your landing was way less graceful than Jason’s. Actually, you were pretty sure you sprained your ankle. But still, you ran-limped to the man and jumped on his back before he could bonk Jason’s head with his weapon.

“ARRRRRGH”

He did not see you coming, as he lost balance at your attack. You crashed on the ground, where you managed to get on top and start hitting him. But apparently neither of you knew how to punch, so it was a rather pathetic looking fight. You swapped and slapped, pulled hair and scratched, until you got a hold of his pan and made a pancake of his face. 

“Take that you pink fucking nightmare” You spat as you stood up. You turned to Jason, whose shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.

“Wow uh” He covered it with a cough. “That sure was an interesting fight to watch”

“Keep mocking me, mister fucking assassin” You rolled your eyes. “I stopped him from bonking your head”

“Alright, alright, thank you”

“No problem” You replied. “Let’s get out of here”

You went and stood on the platform the dealers came through, then waited. But nothing happened.

“I think we need to activate it” He spoke up. That was logical.

You scanned the room for a panel control, and you believed you spotted it on the opposite wall. You grabbed your shoe to throw at it, before Jason held back your arm’s motion.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Activating the portal” You furrowed your brows, pointing at the panel. A big red button on which was written ‘ON’ was glaring at you from the distance. Practical target.

“Don’t throw your shoe, that’s dumb” He snorted. “Let me”

Before you could argue, he cocked his gun and fired a bullet right on the button. A death sound resonated, but nevertheless sparks began to fly and not just from the ruined panel. The portal opened and swallowed you, sending you through flashes and weird colors until you were spat out in a dull, dark place that smelled bad. Jason seemed to have landed just fine, but you were another story. You pulled yourself up, whining at the pain in your ankle. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here”

A creepy, unknown voice made you both turn around. It was a pale man with an unnaturally stretched smile and bad taste in clothes, and right away it made you think the worst. You had been thrown in Dark!Happy Town. Without thinking, you let out a war cry and hurled your frying pan to the more evil version of the Mayor, knocking him out instantly.

What you didn’t expect though, was the roaring laughter from beside you. 

“Oh--Oh my god” He could barely talk. “I wished I filmed that”

“What? What’s happening?” You asked. Had he gone crazy? “Who’s that? We’re not back home are we?”

“Relax, we’re back” He took a deep breath, his shoulders still shaking. “You’ve just knocked out the most wanted criminal in Gotham city”

“WHAT?”

“Welcome back, (Y/N), welcome back”

[soranihimawari]

Leyenda Local

Beach volleyball was an avid part of yn's life. Even after they take a hiatus from the scene for a year to see what else life has to offer aside the invitation to join the national beach team in the past, meeting one popular indoor player was enough to make them consider going back to the sport they love.

Pairing: oikawa tooru x reader (can be considered gn!reader for use of they/them pronouns might edit it to use 'xi' pronounced like "chi" greek letter)

tagging: @oikawaandkuroostan, @smolbludandelions, @ats4mu, @m0nstergeneration20xx, @prettyy-kawa

word count: 1.3K

notes: translations are done below!

Bumping the old volleyball on your forearms as a form of exercise while walking seemed like a good idea at the time. You've been doing this for a little over an hour, practicing your overhead receiving techniques along with the passes you've come to be known for. The waves crash around your usual jogging route on the beaches by the sand court. You watch with envious eyes as the young men practiced together, yelling at each other in both Spanish and Portuguese at their teammates. Their racket was enough to cause you to pause your self-practice and wander up to the court. Four tall men stood out to you, and while their accents seemed foreign to you, you realized you were in the presence of the one the national and local sports fans called "Ninja Sho" and "Grand King," thus making you swallow nervously. You too had a name which was recognized in the local league albeit a bit earlier than their arrival to your home country.

Several hours later, you were still at the beach, wandering tiredly as you sat on the stone fence facing the street behind you. The nightlife of the clubs and bars cast a ring around your frame. You seemed a bit disappointed about not joining the volleyball men from that afternoon, although one member of the party stayed behind with someone else. Their conversation in a different language you haven't heard either:

"They've been staring at us since the last set," Hinata states. The red orange haired one shuddered as a response.

"I saw them when we met up shrimpy-chan," Oikawa states.

"Perhaps they'd like to play?" Hinata says nodding his head as he heard you bumping the ball on your arms.

Yet, that was hours ago. Currently, you breathe evenly while you stretch your calves out before you were joined by the one you observed being called, "Grand King." Nervous though you were not intimated much by his presence, his mahogany orbs glance at your welts on your arms.

"Quieres jugar conmigo?"

In his hands, he extends a volleyball to you. You blink in surprise, explaining the time is late, but you instinctively do not turn down a chance to play the sport you loved. As you two walk toward one of the courts, you speak to one another trying to get a feel for the other. He arches an eyebrow at you skeptically when you mentioned you were an all-around player and have been nominated on more than one occasion to participate in competitive leagues.

"Me llamaban leyenda cuando jugaba. mi amor por el juego nunca vaciló, no hasta hace poco. Mis médicos dijeron que había agravado mi lesión de rodilla en más de una ocasión, así que, como todos los buenos jugadores, tuve que parar. hoy mi rodilla estaba mejor, así que vine aquí para practicar algunos de mis pases, pero ver cómo juegan tú y tus amigos me dio ganas de intentarlo de nuevo,” you explain this as you walk with him to the courts. Your eyes may have been focused on the stars above, but your words have captured Oikawa Tooru’s undivided attention. You don’t notice how he glances at you in a curious perplexed fashion as you continue.

“El voleibol forma parte de mi vida hasta el punto en que es tan fundamental como comer o respirar ... jaja. lo siento, parecía divagar cuando me hiciste una pregunta tan simple,” you end your answer with an exasperated sigh. The bag on your shoulder drops to the border of the sand court. Thus this game of ‘king of of the court’ began between you and the foreigner with bouncy hair.

It wasn’t until you received and returned his monster serve, after you stretched your arms and cracked your neck. The act alone caused Oikawa to become a firm believer in not questioning the things you said. You just proved truth in the subtlest of ways with a shit-eating grin on your face. Your form when it was your turn to serve was exquisite even now despite your slight wince as you land on the soft mounds of sand. You might have made a service ace, but Oikawa knows and notices, but chooses to not say anything just yet. He realizes just how sharp your instincts are to chase the ball, following its trajectory all over the small court. Your digs are on par with some of his own team players in high school, hell even some of the ones he was travelling with at the moment.

The sand is kind to you as you land and give rise to your muscle memory gaining momentum in this sort of tug of war before you received one more brutal spike. You were breathing hard, yet so was your partner because for the first time in a long while you both felt evenly matched. There were no points to be playing for today. It was just an exhibition match as he had deemed it. Your heart beat rapidly as you sat down on the sand facing him and he did the same. Another bead of sweat trickles down the side of your face before you ask if perhaps both of you should call it a night. He hums and as he stands, he hands you a cell phone from his bag. You smirk behind the blue light, silently understanding why he passed you the phone; you press the numbers and the save button right after you take selfie.

“¿Te gustaría acompañarme a casa?”

At this, the grand king smiles when you hand his phone back to him.

The church bells ring in the surrounding neighborhood and seeing how late in the evening it actually is, your new friend escorts you to where you live.

“Aqui es donde vivo,” you say in your home dialect’s accent. Of all things for Oikawa’s brain to focus on after playing against you at the beach and having fun, he focuses on how your voice sounds like a smooth symphony to him. You reach into your pocket to fish out your keys and give the nice young man from Japan (as you’d out) a soft smile.

“Gracias por acompañarme a casa.”

“No problemo,” he says. Mind you, he doesn’t let you know how in the brief hours he had known you, you’ve managed to make him develop a playground crush on the mystery person named, “YN, venti-dos anos: leyenda local (del voleibol).”

“Buenas noches Oikawa Tooru,” you said with a nod.

“Buenas noches,” he says with a chuckle.

Inside the elevator of your building, he unlocks his phone, opening the contacts book. There he scrolls until he finds your photo, biting his bottom lip whilst a chortle escapes his throat.

“Leyenda,” he reads to himself. He shakes his head as he exits the building, grinning like he just played the best game in his life (up to that point).

FLASH FORWARD:

Tokyo, JPN, 2021 Olympics: GOLD MEDAL QUALIFIER

“And with this win, Team Argentina advances to the next round. Tomorrow night, they go up against Team Japan for the gold!” the announcers were excitedly talking about the game you had stood in the crowds to watch.

Indoor volleyball matches were the same, yet different to you, but you understood the appeal. Your boyfriend’s number had been painted on the right side of your cheek throughout the entirety of the games he was a part of. A few of the Olympic spectators noticed who you were since their favorite international star had made headlines in the local news channels reportedly he was seeing someone just by the way he makes a small cross over his heart after an interview. It was a sign he made recalling the first of many promises after your injury took you out of playing for good. Nevertheless, you persisted and eventually earned a spot (and title) of sports rehab specialist back home.

As blurred photos of you at his matches increased in the last two and a half years, bystanders would know (and recall) that you two were made for each other. Passerbys and the occasional fans of both you and him took note to how you kept each other performing at your personal best. Besides, if you think about it, a high-calliber player and his equally high-calliber significant other would eventually be caught stealing congratulatory kisses and warm embraces pre and post-match. This afternoon’s match was the first time the news and sports journalist columns finally got a clear photo of the person whom the captain of the Argentine team makes a silent reference to: your hair draped loosely over your shoulders and you wear the colors of your lover’s team in your outfit. You wave first then yell with the crowds jumping with your fist in the air as the players respectfully thank the attendees for coming.

The cameras were focused on both you and Oikawa when you watch Oikawa’s eyes finally find you in the stands and with a solid triumphant point with one hand to you and the other on his chest, you couldn’t stop the sensation of pride coursing through your veins. Afterall, Oikawa Tooru said this to you after making the national Olympic team:

“Si ya no puedes jugar, ganaré para los dos mi querido.”

Translations below!

Quieres jugar conmigo: would you like to play with me?

Me llamaban leyenda cuando jugaba. mi amor por el juego nunca vaciló, no hasta hace poco. Mis médicos dijeron que había agravado mi lesión de rodilla en más de una ocasión, así que, como todos los buenos jugadores, tuve que parar. hoy mi rodilla estaba mejor, así que vine aquí para practicar algunos de mis pases, pero ver cómo juegan tú y tus amigos me dio ganas de intentarlo de nuevo. El voleibol forma parte de mi vida hasta el punto en que es tan fundamental como comer o respirar ... jaja. lo siento, parecía divagar cuando me hiciste una pregunta tan simple.

they called me Legend when i played. my love for the game never wavered, not until recently. my doctors said i had aggravated my knee injury on more than one occasion, so like all good players, i had to stop. today my knee was feeling better, so i came here to pratice some of my passes, but watching how you and your friends play made me want to try again. volleyball is part of my life to the point where it is as essential as eating or breathing... haha. sorry, i seemed to ramble when you asked me such a simple question.

Te guestaria acompanare a casa?: would you like to escort/walk me home

YN, venti-dos anos, Leyenda Local: YN, 22 years old, local legend

Aqu dondes vivo: this is where i live.

Gracias por acompanarme a casa: thank you for walking me home

Buenas noches: good night

Sí ya no puedes jugar, ganaré para los dos mi querido: if you cannot play, then I will win for both of us.

[ryqoshay]

Tri-Arame: A Break? No Way!

Primary Pairing Trio: YuuAyuSetsu Words: ~2k Rating: G Time Frame: Sometime during the 2nd trimester of their 2nd year? Later? Story Arc: Stand Alone

----------

Author’s Note: How many detours will I take? How many WIPs must I start before I can finish one? Will I ever finish any of the works I started over the last couple months? Only my µ’s muse knows.

Anyway, this chapter was born entirely out of a single comment from myon as we discussed the new songs for the Nijigasaki girls. I don’t want to spoil it entirely, so I’ll include it in the followup post.

Also, the girls of R3birth have not made their anime debut, so they will not be appearing in this scene. Perhaps I may come back and make changes later if they are introduced in the second season.

Summary: It’s time for everyone in the Nijigasaki School Idol Club to have a new solo! And Yuu is going to help them all.

----------

Movement at the edge of Ayumu’s focus caught her eye and she looked up.

“Are you alright, Yuu-chan?” She asked the twin-tailed girl beside her under the kotatsu.

“I’m fine.” Yuu offered a smile that was nowhere near its normal power.

“You’ve stayed up late every night this week.” Ayumu reminded. “It’s fine to take a break.”

“A break? No way!” Yuu shook her head. “I need to help you guys.”

“I believe Ayumu-san and I can take care of anything else tonight.” Setsuna joined from her spot opposite Ayumu. “We’ve made a lot of progress thanks to your help, Yuu-san.” She smiled, though Ayumu noted even hers was not as brilliant as usual.

The three girls had been working together for hours since arriving at Ayumu’s place after school, breaking only for dinner. The project was a pair of new solo songs for Ayumu and Setsuna for an upcoming Live being planned by the school idol club. Although, together may have been a little bit of an overstatement, as Ayumu and Setsuna had each been primarily focused on their own song while Yuu assisted as needed.

And on the topic of Yuu’s assistance, she had been helping the rest of the club as well all week. Thus, all the late nights. She had actually ended up staying at Rina’s, Shizuku’s, Karin’s and Kanata’s places after missing the last train the first couple nights and not bothering the next two. Tonight, it was Ayumu’s turn and they had invited Setsuna to join them.

“Are you sure?” Yuu seemed more than a little dejected.

Whatever Setsuna was about to say in response was interrupted by a yawn. “Mm…” She ended up humming and nodding after.

“It seems we should take our own advice and turn in as well.” Ayumu decided. “We can continue later this weekend. But for now, you and I need to rest up for tomorrow, Yuu-chan.” She reminded her friend of the plans they had with her parents. “Or today, actually.” She corrected, noticing the clock on her headboard.

“I suppose.” Yuu sighed and crawled over to Ayumu’s bed before pulling herself up and under the covers.

“I’m sorry, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu suddenly apologized. “I got so wrapped up in our work that I completely forgot to set out a futon for you.” She stood and moved to her closet to retrieve the bedding.

“I’ll help.” Setsuna assured, sliding the table a little to make room before getting up to retrieve a pillow.

“Oh, and one more thing.” Ayumu stepped over to her plushie display and grabbed the pink rabbit before turning and handing it to Setsuna.

“… Right… Thank you.” Pink dusted the raven-haired girl’s cheeks as she accepted.

----------

Ayumu opened her eyes to an unfamiliar sound. Soft, almost imperceptible scratches sounded from somewhere in the room. Then a sound she recognized; a page being turned. She sat up and immediately spotted Yuu setting the table, scrawling away at the paperwork for the songs they had worked on last night.

“Yuu-chan?” She murmured, keeping her volume down as she realized Setsuna was still sleeping behind Yuu.

“Mm?” The girl with green tips looked up from her work, set a hand down for support and twisted her shoulders around to face the redhead. “G’mornin’ Ayumu.” She offered a smile that was barely more energetic than the prior night.

“How long have you been up?” Ayumu asked, sliding out of bed, stepping over Setsuna and making her way to her normal spot at the table.

“Dunno.” Yuu admitted. “I dreamed up some good ideas for almost everyone and needed to get them out on paper before I forgot it all.”

Ayumu couldn’t help smiling. She loved Yuu’s unwavering support, even when it lead to hyperfocus and nigh-all-consuming obsession. And while she wished Yuu would take better care of herself, she had long since vowed to do what she could to fill in where needed when it came to her health and wellbeing.

“Are you going to be alright coming along with us today?” She asked.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Yuu nodded. “I love hanging out with you and your parents. I can take a nap afterward.”

Well, at least she recognizes she needs more sleep. Ayumu conceded to herself.

A knock came at the door, followed by Ayumu’s mother’s voice. “Are you girls up? I’ll have breakfast ready in a moment.”

The sound caused Setsuna to stir, so Ayumu was no longer worried about waking her.

“We’ll be out in a few.” Ayumu responded.

“Oh, Setsuna-chan, good morning.” Yuu greeted the other girl as she slowly sat up and yawned.

Setsuna stretched. “Good morning, Yuu-san, Ayumu-san.”

“Good morning, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu added.

“I had a bunch of new ideas,” Yuu continued “though we probably can’t fit them all into just these songs, and probably shouldn’t try, but maybe we’ll be able to use some in the next set? Anyway, take a look at it later today and let me know what you think.” She held out a stack of sheets.

“Thank you, Yuu-san.” Setsuna accepted and slipped the pages into her bag.

The three then rotated through the bathroom to wash their faces and get ready for the day.

----------

ScarletStorm: Ayumu-san

UeharaAyumu: What’s up Setsuna-chan?

ScarletStorm: I wanted to contact you privately so as to avoid possibly embarrassing Yuu-san.

UeharaAyumu: Yuu-chan?

UeharaAyumu: What do you mean?

ScarletStorm: I believe she mixed up some of the paperwork for our songs.

ScarletStorm: A lot of it, actually.

Oh? Ayumu crawled over to the table to check what was left there. Sure enough, much of it was for Setsuna’s solo.

UeharaAyumu: That appears to be the case

ScarletStorm: I can stop by later tonight so we can swap them.

UeharaAyumu: No need to make a special trip

UeharaAyumu: We’ll see each other again Monday morning

As soon as Ayumu sent the second message, she realized what Setsuna was probably going to reply.

ScarletStorm: I was hoping to work a little more on it tomorrow.

And there it was. Yuu wasn’t the only workaholic when it came to school idol things. Ayumu laughed lightly to herself and shook her head. She was about to agree and set up a time to meet when a different thought occurred to her.

UeharaAyumu: Perhaps we can use this opportunity to help each other?

UeharaAyumu: Look at what the other has done from a different perspective and maybe do some editing or offer some advice?

UeharaAyumu: A little like what Yuu-chan has been doing for us, but we both have different perspectives than her

UeharaAyumu: And each other

ScarletStorm: That’s a great idea, Ayumu-san!

ScarletStorm: It will a little like our Shuffle Festival from a little while back.

ScarletStorm: Actually, no, not really.

ScarletStorm: We’re not covering the other’s song, just helping them write one.

UeharaAyumu: Well there’s no reason we cannot add a little of our own influence to the other’s song

UeharaAyumu: I’ve always admired your style, Setsuna-chan

UeharaAyumu: So I wouldn’t mind seeing what influence you might have on a song that I might sing

UeharaAyumu: Then on the other side, I would like to see what I can add to a song of yours

UeharaAyumu: And on the topic of the Shuffle Festival, I actually kind of hoped I would end up with CHASE! instead of Kasumi-chan

UeharaAyumu: Yuu-chan still likes to play it on her piano every so often and I can’t help humming along when she does

UeharaAyumu: After all, it was the song that inspired me to become a school idol and her to join and restart the club

There was a noticeable pause before Setsuna began typing again. Then another pause. And another.

ScarletStorm: Thank you, Ayumu-san.

ScarletStorm: That song has always meant a lot to me.

ScarletStorm: As such, I am very happy to hear that you and Yuu-san continue to enjoy it.

ScarletStorm: That said, I also enjoy your style.

ScarletStorm: However, I believe Emma-san was a better pick than I for covering Yume e no Ippo.

ScarletStorm: At least she was then.

ScarletStorm: My time with Ayumu-san and Shizuku-san in A・ZU・NA has allowed me to experience many more facets of being a school idol than I would have otherwise on my own.

ScarletStorm: You have allowed me to expand my knowledge and skills of being a school idol.

ScarletStorm: It would be an honor to sing a song in homage to Ayumu-san’s style in exchange for her singing one in mine.

Ayumu smiled.

UeharaAyumu: I’ll let Yuu-chan know we’re trading notes for a little while when I check on her later to make sure she’s taking the break she needs

UeharaAyumu: And speaking of breaks, don’t you be staying up to late working on my song

UeharaAyumu: Both you and Yuu-chan have a bad habit of overworking yourselves and it makes me worry about you

Scarlet Storm: Thank you for your concern, Ayumu-san.

ScarletStorm: I will be sure to go to bed at a decent time tonight.

UeharaAyumu: Alright

UeharaAyumu: See you at the station Monday morning

ScarletStorm: Yes, see you then.

----------

“Wha~?” Kasumi exclaimed, planting both hands on the table and leaning toward two of her seniors on the other side. “Ayumu-sempai and Setsuna-sempai are trading songs?”

Ayumu laughed lightly. “Just trading some influence in style.”

“And learning new ways to look at our songs,” Setsuna added excitedly “how we share them with our fans and ultimately grow as school idols.”

“Kasumin wants to grow as a school idol too!” Kasumi whined. “Senpai!” She turned toward Yuu. “Help Kasumin make her songs even cuter!”

“Yuu-senpai has already helped you a lot, Kasumi-san.” Shizuku pointed out from beside the ash blonde. “I believe what is being suggested here is a little different.”

“It sounds more like our recent Shuffle Festival.” Karin observed.

“That’s what I thought at first as well.” Setsuna acknowledged.

“But what Setsu and Ayu-pyon are doing is trading influence on creating songs, not just covering the other’s songs.” Ai spoke up.

“Exactly.” Ayumu agreed.

“Sounds fun. Ai’m in.” The blonde grinned.

“I would like to try something new as well.” Rina stated flatly. “I would like to discover new ways to connect with my fans.”

“Hmmm…” Emma considered “I enjoyed singing Ayumu-chan’s pure song during the Shuffle Festival, but I wonder how it might feel to sing a cool song like Karin-chan’s or a dramatic one like Shizuku-chan’s.”

“Or a cute one like Kasumin’s?” Kasumi asked.

“I think everything Emma-chan sings would end up being cute.” Kanata’s voice was slightly muffled by her pillow before she turned her head. “Wouldn’t you agree, Karin-chan?”

“O… of course.” Karin didn’t seem to have expected to be asked such a question.

“What kind of influence would you want to have on your song, Kanata-san?” Yuu asked.

“I already get inspiration and influence from Haruka-chan.” Kanata drawled.

“Well, this all sounds like a lot of fun.” Yuu continued. “But if we’re going to overhaul everyone’s songs, it’s going to be a lot of work. But…” she leaned over retrieve a sizable stack of sheets from her bag “I came up with a ton of new and random stuff once Ayumu and Setsuna-chan revealed their idea to me. Take a look and see if anything gives you ideas. I’ll be happy to help wherever I can, as always.”

Seven hands reached forward to take random pages and several discussions broke out among the group.

Ayumu glanced at the twin-tailed girl beside her. Looks like it might be another sleep deprived week for Yuu-chan. She worried silently. Maybe I’ll take a night in the middle of the week this time. Oh. Setsuna-chan and I are pretty far along with our songs, so maybe we can all take a break that night. Perhaps an anime movie night, so long as we limit it to only a few episodes and not an entire series.

Someone said her name to get her attention and Ayumu was taken from her thoughts and into a discussion about a possible lyric change. The next couple hours were filled with excitement and anticipation as the girls of the Nijigasaki School Idol Club began looking at their songs in a new light.

----------

Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

[thewarriorandtheking]

Mistletoe

Imagine what would you do if you saw the King walking under mistletoe...

 A bit of Warrior and The King holiday fluff I wrote last year...revised to flow better (because I will never stop editing). 

Enjoy!

The Warrior and The King Masterlist

*******************************************

Balin stowed the last parcels in the wagon and climbed onto the seat, moving to the middle to make room for Thorin who stepped up behind him. Fili picked up the reins and whistled to the ponies, guiding them toward the city gates. The wagon creaked as the wheels rolled through the ice on the puddles in the road, clouds of steam from the pony’s breath swirled around their heads, forming ice crystals in their furry ears.  

It was a crisp midwinter day; they had started out from Erebor in a flurry of snowflakes but over the day the skies had cleared. Now the sun was just setting, bathing the Lonely Mountain in a soft lavender glow, the land sleeping under its white blanket. Balin looked over at Thorin, his beard buried in his fur coat, his face grim. The King had been in a murderously dark mood for months now, Balin had convinced him to come to Dale today hoping a change of scenery might lift his spirits. Thorin had brightened up negotiating with the traders, but now it looked like his black mood was reasserting itself. Balin worried at the grip this dark humor seemed to have on his King. He had always felt Thorin’s recovery from dragon sickness had been too quick, his worst fear was it would one day reassert itself.  

They made their way slowly through the streets of Dale. It was the day before the midwinter holiday of Men and the streets were crowded. As they passed through a neighborhood with many inns and public houses, they were stopped by a herd of cattle being driven up a cross street. Balin was talking to Fili about trade deals when he felt a breath of wind and looked over to see Thorin was no longer sitting next to him. Surprised, he looked around and saw him hastening down the side street toward a large public house at the end.

“We seem to have lost the King,” he said. Where is he going? “Your young eyes are better than mine, what is the name of that pub?”

“I do not think it is the pub that caught his eye,” Fili said, smiling crookedly. “There is a tall black horse tied up at the rail.”

Balin could just make out a black horse in the fading light. “Are you sure?”

Fili shrugged. “Looks like her saddle, and there are not any horses like that north of Rohan.”

Balin shook his head. “This is not good, there are many things that need the King’s attention in Erebor!”

Fili laughed, punching the older Dwarf in the arm. “Cheer up! At least my uncle will be in a good mood!”

 Thorin had been idly wondering if he could make up an excuse to stay in Dale. The weight of his kingdom had been sitting very heavily on him lately, sometimes he felt as if it was crushing him. The demands on his time were endless and Shurri seemed to be going out of her way to make his life difficult. Even forging offered him little relief. He had enjoyed getting out of his city, now he felt like staying for a few days. When the wagon stopped, Thorin was idly looking around when to he spotted what looked like Kaylea Wolf’s horse. He was off the wagon before he even thought about what he was doing. When he drew closer he could see it was definitely her horse, there was no mistaking her saddle. He strode up to the inn and pushed the door open.

The place was pleasantly warm after walking in the chill air. The crowd inside seemed to be mostly tradesmen; armorers, masons, leatherworkers, a few who looked like woodsmen. As Thorin’s eyes swept the room he spotted Kaylea Wolf at a table in the corner near the hearth, the hood of her coat covering her golden hair. She was studying a piece of parchment in her hand. As Thorin started to walk across the crowded inn he became aware the place had fallen silent. It was not every day that the King Under the Mountain showed up at the local pub. Thorin knew he should probably be more cautious, but right now he only had eyes for the woman he loved. As the hush fell over the room Kaylea looked up, her face surprised at first, then melted into a wide smile. She held her hand up and Thorin paused. He heard some whispering from the Men at the nearby tables, pointing at something over his head. He looked up to see a sprig of some plant with small green leaves tied to the beam above him with a bright red ribbon. Then Kaylea was in his arms, her hood thrown back, silver beads in her hair glittering in the lamplight. Thorin drew her mouth down to his, feeling all the worries and frustrations of the last months fading away, he knew only the taste of her mouth, the feel of her body against his, the desert smell of her skin. It was a very long moment before he drew back, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to hers.

“My love…I cannot believe you are here,” he whispered. “It is all I have wished for these many months.”  

“Congratulations, your majesty,” said a tall man in weathered clothing sitting at a nearby table. He raised his mug in a toast and drank.

Thorin eyed the greenery over his head. “I do not know this tradition of Men,” he said. “Perhaps you can enlighten me.”

“If you kiss a lady under the mistletoe it is said she will be your wife,” the man replied. “And your love will long endure.”

Thorin glanced up, then smiled widely at Kaylea. “If that is the case, I will kiss you again! Just to be sure.” He pulled her close, aware of the whispers around them, but not really caring. Suddenly the bell rang at the bar and the pub came to life, Men jumping up from their tables to shout drink orders to the barkeep, the Dwarf King and his warrior woman quite forgotten. Thorin looked over to see Balin sliding a stack of coins to the innkeeper. The old Dwarf crossed the room, setting three mugs of ale on Kaylea’s table.  

“Master Balin, it is good to see you again,” Kaylea told him. Thorin slid onto the bench next to her, running an arm around her shoulders, she snuggled against him, her hand caressing the inside of his thigh.  

Balin smiled at her. “It is always good to see you, lass.” He liked Kaylea Wolf almost from the moment he met her, and he never tired of looking at her. Many years had passed since their first meeting on the road to Rivendell yet she was completely unchanged, her face smooth, her hair untouched by grey. It seemed his notion that she was of Elven blood was true after all. This was not the best time for her to make an appearance, but if anyone could draw Thorin out of his black mood it was her. Sometimes Balin chided himself for not encouraging her to marry Thorin all those years ago. It would not have been the right choice politically, but it would have been the right choice for the King.

Fili had parked the wagon and joined them, glad to see a smile on his uncle’s face again. They spent a merry evening catching up, Kaylea wanted to know all that had happened in Erebor and the Dwarves were curious to hear her news from the South. Finally, as the evening crowd began to thin, Balin stood up buttoning his coat.  

“We should get back,” he told the King.  

Thorin dismissed him with a wave. “You go ahead, I will catch up in a day or two,” he said. “I think I will stay here for the winter holiday.”

Balin gave him a reproachful look. “You have a formal feast for the princes of the Blue Mountains tomorrow. And your cousins from the Iron Hills should have arrived today.”

Thorin scowled at the old Dwarf. “So, make up an excuse! Shurri will be more than happy to preside over any formal occasion.”  

Balin looked to Kaylea for help, but she only smiled at him and shrugged. “Perhaps you could delay the feast for a few days,” she said, looking at Thorin. “If it is what the King wishes.”

Balin sighed. “Well, I suppose I do have the ride back to Erebor to think of something.” He gave the King a reproachful look. “You owe me one, laddie. Or I should say, another one.”  

Thorin chuckled. “Put it on my tab.” He watched Balin and Fili leave, then turned to Kaylea. “My love, do you happen to know if there is a room nearby where we could have some…supper?” His fingers traced the skin of her stomach under her tunic.  

“Upstairs,” Kaylea answered. “This place has excellent rooms, one has a view of Erebor.”

 Hours later, Kaylea rolled over to watch Thorin as he walked across the room to stoke the fire. As she had promised the room was large and well-appointed, the bed soft as a cloud; it was one of only two rooms at the top of the inn. From the windows the gates of Erebor could be clearly seen, the braziers along the top brightly lit. Kaylea noticed Thorin had gained some weight since he had been king, no longer the thin warrior she had met on the road to Rivendell. She decided to tease him about it, but not tonight. Her eyes traveled down his body, lingering on his mane of dark hair, his wide shoulders, strong arms scarred from battles and years of working hot metal, the curve of his back, the thick muscles in his legs.

Feeling her eyes on him, Thorin looked over at her. “Are you watching me?”

“Just enjoying the view.”

Thorin chuckled. He went to the window, studying the gates of his city in the moonlit vale. For the first time in months he felt a little distance between himself and all his responsibilities. After a moment he turned back toward the bed, looking down at his feet. “I am afraid I do not cut quite as dashing a figure as I once did.”

Kaylea smiled at him. “You need to start training again. I decided to tease you about that tomorrow.”

Thorin slipped back into bed beside her, pulling her close. “Is that so? Then tomorrow I will tease you about your clothes.” The fact that Kaylea always wore her black fighting clothes had always been a sore spot for him. She had a few dresses in her wardrobe in Erebor, he wished she would bring some new ones. “Do you not have tailors in your land that can make you something different?”

“Is it decreed in Erebor that the King should have three helpings at every meal?”

“Actually, it is four. But I will resolve to only have two if you let me order you some new dresses.” Smiling, he brushed her hair away from her face. “Tell me about this winter holiday of Men.”

“This is the holiday that marks the new year for Men,” Kaylea said. “The shortest day of the year has passed and the days are starting to grow longer. It is a time to gather with your family, exchange presents. People decorate their homes and enjoy a feast. There are many little traditions this time of year, it is the only time you will find mistletoe indoors.”

The King laughed. “You stopped me when I was standing under it,” he said. “Does that mean you do want to marry me?”

“I told you before it is not my destiny to be married, but I hope our love will always remain strong.”

“And I told you I will not take no for an answer. One day you will be my wife,” Thorin replied. He stroked her back with his fingers. “You said it is a time for gift-giving, did you bring me a present?”

Kaylea smiled mischievously, taking his hand and guiding it between her legs. “You already opened it.”

“Mmmm…exactly what I wanted! How did you ever guess?”