#m’gonna eat you up until i’m swallowing

[andersonfilms]

MY FAVORITE WRITER. EVER. RAWRRRRRRRRRR. EMIUSSY SERVING ONCE AGAINNNNNNN !!!!! IM SLURPING IT !!!!!! ♡

as per usual, i’m gonna be hella gay and yap, shall we begin? lets do it. no surprise i’m obsessed with another emi banger. my love, this is just you written all over it from top to bottom. i sound like a broken record, but i promise it comes from a place of deep love, everything you write is absolutely a dream to me. there's an individuality to it that makes me cry, my heart soar, and just explode with a bunch of dyke joy. i'm gonna eat you up, literally.

slow dancing with abby after a successful meal during one of your dates, and she can’t help but blush and become so insanely shy when your hand rests on her hip, a lazy grin on your lips and a glimmer is held in your eye when she gasps softly under her breath.

from the very beginning, i am hooked. no shocker there. slow dancing? oh, it’s joeover. my heart simply cannot take this! i love your brain, all of the magic it creates. how you fill my heart with so much joy from a single sentence. slow downing in a private place with your loved one, i’m going to be thinking about this for days on end. i actually can’t think about anything else and will only be thinking about this. it’s s’dreamy, maybe it’s the pisces in me but i don’t care. i love it.

but when your lips brush against her ear, the hair on her neck stands at your whispered words. “you’re the most handsome yet beautiful woman in this room” you smiled, wrapping your arm tighter around her waist and tearing a shuddered breath from her when you pulled her body closer, so you were chest to chest.

the masculine and feminine energy? i need it. i need it. i need it. my baby, this is so beautiful. soft moments, ugh, with abby they are not written nearly enough. it’s everything i need! chest to chest, pls, im just going to start profusely crying every where. the intimacy, i can’t take it. physically, my heart will just completely give out. but also need it more than life itself.

the intimacy of it all, it speaks so loudly to the emotional side of me. i can feel every ounce of your heart and it makes me so happy to read it. there isn’t a word that i don’t love. also, the way you write is so intentional, it’s one thing i’ve always admired the most about your talent. every word, every sentence, every line is deliberate. like a beating heart funneling the blood supply to each vein, all of it connected, intertwined and seemingly connected to the next.

“can’t take my eyes off you” and abby melts when you press your lips against her cheek and litter kisses against her skin with another smile. “you’re so perfect, can’t get enough of you. tonight is about you.” 

i’m so lovesick !!!! partners taking care of each other, loving on one another, absolute sweetness. so golden and pure. I CANT TAKE ITNFNDJJDNDDND. i need every last bit of it. soft cheek kisses, please, it’s actually a must. give it to me and i’ll munch on it every single time.

her face hurts from the constant smiling, her stomach in stitches because you’ve made her laugh too much.

yeah, you know what you’re doing. “her stomach in stitches” i’m gonna kiss you. the way you write !!!!!!!!!! i’m getting this tattooed along my spine, forever place on me, the words of emi. everything about this sentence. yeah. i relate.

“i had fun tonight, by the way”  “i had fun too” abby mutters shyly, her body leaning into your touch without another thought. feeling safe in your hold. “although, i need to get better at dancing. you said you didn’t know how to dance” she pouted, baby blue eyes peering at you.

i don't think i have to embelish too much on why i love this too much. the remi telepathic ways will send you the correct thoughts your way. i need to eat these words and have them inside me forever. yes. yes. yes.

planting a final kiss on her forehead, you pulled away and smiled at her. “good, so go inside so i can text you another date idea for next time. you’re making me nervous when you look at me like that” you admitted, rubbing the back of your neck. 

hehehehehehe, i love it. NERVOUS SHYNESS. right up my loser alley to be honest. i’m gonna gobble this up whole, almost as if it was made for me. mhmm, funny 🤭🩷

abby simply rolled her eyes and gave you a smile, turning around on her heels, but not before looking at you a final time over her shoulder. “goodnight, nervous” she teased, winking at you.

this is your humor written all over it and YES. her saying this is so canon i’m afraid. abby would be the type to say lame dad joke, but it totally lands because you’re so so obsessed with her. abby!coded as hell. my co-abby connoisseur. you write her so perfectly, angel. from top to bottom, i feel her through your writing in such an emotional way. but also in the silly things like this. it rounds her out as a character and i love it so deeply.

i love you, so talented baby ♡

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞, 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ❞ 

slow dancing with abby after a successful meal during one of your dates, and she can’t help but blush and become so insanely shy when your hand rests on her hip, a lazy grin on your lips and a glimmer is held in your eye when she gasps softly under her breath. your bodies moving slowly together, your fingers brushing against the skin of her back, silently thanking the dress she wore, her back completely exposed. her hands gripping yours tightly with each step you take, but she can’t focus on anything but you. the way you gently assure her that it’s okay, and she was doing amazing. but when your lips brush against her ear, the hair on her neck stands at your whispered words. “you’re the most handsome yet beautiful woman in this room” you smiled, wrapping your arm tighter around her waist and tearing a shuddered breath from her when you pulled her body closer, so you were chest to chest. “can’t take my eyes off you” and abby melts when you press your lips against her cheek and litter kisses against her skin with another smile. “you’re so perfect, can’t get enough of you. tonight is about you.” 

by the end of the night though, her feet hurt, dancing for several hours nonstop, but she loved it. her face hurts from the constant smiling, her stomach in stitches because you’ve made her laugh too much. she thought she would never find anything funny again, and then you came along, showed her what she’s been missing and she feels complete again. abby can still feel your fingers in her hair, tucking strands behind her ear every couple of minutes, and it’s a feeling she doesn’t want to let go of. not even when you’re standing there, looking at her like she hung every star in the bitter night sky. 

words would never be able to express how good she feels. how amazing tonight, with you, has been. so instead, her eyes flutter and find your fingers interlocking with hers, the softness of your skin, yet the rough edges of your fingers graze hers, shocking her slightly with wide eyes as you laugh at her reaction. “you’re so cute” you can’t help but admit, reaching your free hand up and cupping her face. enjoying the blush coating the apples of her cheeks and heat radiating off her skin. “i had fun tonight, by the way” 

“i had fun too” abby mutters shyly, her body leaning into your touch without another thought. feeling safe in your hold. “although, i need to get better at dancing. you said you didn’t know how to dance” she pouted, baby blue eyes peering at you.

“never said i didn’t know how to, just said i haven’t done it in a while” you shrugged, giving her a cheeky grin when she rolled her eyes before letting a soft giggle past her lips. “you should go inside, it’s cold, and my jacket is only going to keep you warm for so long, pretty girl”

“will i see you again?” she can’t help but ask, fumbling with your jacket sleeve.

eyeing her up with a smirk, a soft hum vibrated through your throat before you nodded. “i will text you the second you go inside” you promised and tucked another strand of hair behind her ear. those baby blues that you’ve enjoyed looking into widen when you’re leaning forward and chuckling breathlessly. “i really wanna kiss you right now,” you admitted against her forehead, your hand comfortingly rubbing her arm slowly. “but you’re a little tipsy, and i want you to remember it”

abby huffs but nods slowly at you, fingers fumbling with the collar of your shirt. “that a promise?” 

“it’s a promise until i see you again. then you can have as many as you want” you smiled, lips pressing against her cheek so softly that abby had to hold you tighter just to prove this was real, that you were here, and promising her.

“i’ll hold you to it” the blonde giggled, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. “thank you for tonight”

“you better hold me to it” your reply was cheeky but abby loved it either way and hearing you laugh was a sound so special to her already. “m’glad you had fun, you deserve it. i can’t wait to take you on more dates if you’d let me”

“i would really like that”

planting a final kiss on her forehead, you pulled away and smiled at her. “good, so go inside so i can text you another date idea for next time. you’re making me nervous when you look at me like that” you admitted, rubbing the back of your neck. 

abby simply rolled her eyes and gave you a smile, turning around on her heels, but not before looking at you a final time over her shoulder. “goodnight, nervous” she teased, winking at you.

scoffing playfully, you shake your head at her as you watched her walk up the steps to her front door. “goodnight, pretty girl”

[spikesbimbo]

Picnic Date

Pairing: Shugo Meian x Reader

Tags: Picnic date with a side of head, fluff, babymaking breeding kink, daddy kink, nipple sucking, oral sex, handjob, outdoor/public sex, mating press

Summary: Your titties look a little too good to be kept in that dress.

Word Count: 1.7k

a/n: i tried looking up his bio to get a better idea of his personality but there's nothing. I def think hes a gemini sun and/or mars

-And also i do not support zoos and aquariums, i just can't think of where else people would go on a date☠️

18+ Minors DNI

You laid on the blanket, your head in his lap a little buzzed from the champagne you drank earlier, giggling with that soft smile of yours, him stroking your hair out of your face watching the cute little kids run around.

Going out with your fiance was a regular occurance, you’ve pretty much been (fucked) everywhere in the city with him. He loved to express his feelings for you by taking you on spontaneous dates; whether it be the beach in the middle of the night, the club, aquarium, and any new food place that opened up, loving watching you eat.

“Aren't they cute?” He said referring to the toddler pushing his baby brother on the swing. You already knew where this was going, yes you've daydreamed about starting a family together, but having a 6' 5., 200lb man's babies was a nightmare for your body. But that was overshadowed but the sincere look he had on his face watching them play, not to mention you were ovulating right now making your baby fever rise.

“Yeah” you shyly mumble, hoping he doesn't notice the blood rushing to your face, spoiler he does. 

You try to take your mind off of that, feeding him the sliced up watermelon, keeping all the strawberries to yourself. His lips lingering on your sticky fingers. You loved babying him, yes he was a grown, strong ass man, but the second he was in your arms he melted, finding comfort in you.

“Your shoulders are stiff baby” you said, noticing it after leaning on them for hours “You want a massage?” you asked, fluttering your eyelashes up at him, already knowing the answer taking matters into your own hands.

“Yeah doll, whatever you want.” he said, giving you the go. You work your hands over his shoulders down his back, your boobs pushing against him, making him grow in his pants. You were just trying to have a cute date, but the way your body looked in that sundress was killing him. The thin straps leading down to the v-neck exposing your cleavage. The loose cotton material hugging your hips perfectly, stopping below your knees. Fuck you were pretty.

The tree behind you covered you two just enough, the park was empty enough now as it was now dinner time and all the families went home. 

He thinks for a second, it not being the first time you two have fucked in public, the last time being in the locker room. All worries leave him as he grabs your neck pulling you in for a kiss, falling in his lap. His lips were warm and soft, parting slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside tasting the sweetness of the fruit.

He kisses down your neck, stopping at your collarbone and pulls your top to the side freeing your breast. “Meian”  You moaned, the feeling of being exposed making you twitch.

His mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking greedily, gripping his hair pushing him into you more. Your tits feeling sensitive and sore, him latching his mouth onto you. He was so grateful for you being in his life, letting him use you as he needed. Him showing his love by giving you your every want and need.

You looked around making sure no one was here, the embarrassment of Hinata walking in on you two while he was balls deep in you in the locker room making cringe at the thought, but who were you to deny your fiance as sweet as he was? 

You reach down palming his crotch until he was hard. Your fingers sliding slowly down not wanting to leave, unzipping his pants bringing his boxers down, precum staining the fabric pulling it down enough to uncover his cock. 

You wanted to be his good girl, he was always so good to you. He’d never tell you no, whether it was wanting him to get you something or wanting to ride him in the middle of the night, he never told you no.

“nghh daddy” you whined, him finally giving you a break from abusing your tits. He tightly wrapped his other hand around your waist leaving an imprint, dragging you closer to him.

“You're so good to me angel.” He whispered, making you shudder. His low voice stirring something inside of you.

“Really daddy?” You asked, hoping to get confirmation that you were doing a good job, grabbing his balls underneath you.

“Fuck baby” he said, thrusting his hips, you squeezing his balls a little harder. He looked at you with heavy eyes, pleading for you to touch his throbbing cock.

You took him in your hand, wrapping your fingers around his shaft the best you could, stroking him slowly looking up to meet his eyes to see if you were doing a good job.

He looks at you grabbing your thigh to stabilize himself and reattaching himself to you tits, you made him feel like he was in heaven, what's better than getting played with by a pretty girl with her tits in his mouth.

“Fuck princess im close. You gonna let me cum in that little mouth of yours?” you don't respond, just moving your head down to be face to face with his cock stroking your hand faster, opening your mouth for whenever he was ready.

“Fuck y/n” he groaned, his voice crackling at his release. His cock still so sensitive in your hands. His cum dripping down your lips, you not being able to swallow it all.

“Clean it up” He said, referring to the mess in his lap. You quickly moved your mouth to his length kissing the tip, some cum still on it as you worked your way down. His hand grips your hair as you wrap your lips around him.

 A throaty groan escapes and he rolls eyes back. He thrusts into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat making you gag and your eyes water, but you don't get off, still keeping him in your mouth.

You move your head up and down moaning at the feeling, wanting to reach down and relieve yourself but knowing he wouldn't allow it. Your eyes water this time not because you're choking but because you're needy, wanting to be touched also. 

Your eyes flicker up and see him staring at you with his eyes drowning you in lust. His dark locks stuck to his forehead. His cheeks red with want as his breath quickens.

“Baby, fuck. I'm close”

You bob your head faster, hoping to push him over the edge sooner, your jaw hurting with each motion. His hand is wrapped in your hair again and you can feel his voice get strained and deeper letting you know he was about to cum again.

He doesnt pull out when he spills, his cock sitting in the back of your throat. You swallow his cum for the second time today. Him finally taking it out, looking at your disheveled appearance, wondering how you were so beautiful while looking like a mess.

“Cmere baby” he said dragging you in for a kiss, lifting your dress up enough to feel your drenched panties, not giving a fuck if anyone saw with the sun still out.

You loved his cock so much, borderline worshipping it. It filled you in all the right places, stretching your little cunny out while hitting your g spot, him being the only one that could ever make you feel this way.

“Daddy” you moaned. “ I need it daddy. Please” You whined out as he laid you on your back, hand behind your head making sure you didn't hurt yourself. 

He parted your legs sliding your panties off, your body beneath him, your soft tits slipping out of your dress, your soaked pussy on display for him. Fuck he was in love. 

“Hold on angel” he said, adjusting himself with your entrance, staying in this position so he could see your pretty face.

 “You're such a good girl.” he said, slowly sliding his cock in against your whimpers. “Pretty girl, taking a cock too big for you” he continued, you grabbing his arms, leaving indents from your nails.

 “Look at you, i haven't even bottomed out yet and you've already made a mess” he teased, putting your legs on his shoulders, stroking your cheek.

 “Uhhngh please” you cried trying to hold on as he finally settled into you and started thrusting 

 “Meian please” you said not knowing what you were begging for. 

 “Hmm” he froze, stopping his movement.

 “s-sorry daddy” you realized correcting yourself.  “sorry please... please”

 “Guess I’ll just have to pull out then” he said slowly taking his cock out looking at your teary eyes all distraught

 “No! Dont pull out. Daddy pleaseee, no, please please... nghhah” you cried out like the world was gonna end if he didnt fuck you.

“Hmm? You want me to cum in you? You want my babies?” he teased, getting off on the fact that he knew you got turned by the thought of having his kids. The embarrassment appearing on your face, highly aware of your needs, you turned your face away looking at the grass beside you.

 “Hmm? u gonna be my good girl?” He said cupping your jaw to look at him.

 “Yes daddy” you said reaching your arms out trying to grab him in for a kiss.

 “Nope only good girls get to kiss daddy”

“Nooo daddy please!” You cried again, needing his touch.

 “U gonna let me stuff you full?”

 “Yea-ah” you said pulling your legs back exposing your sloppy cunt, needing him to be in you again.

 “There’s my good girl” he praised leaning down into you, thrusting in you getting harder each time. 

 “D-daddy m’gonna make a mess” You cried coming closer to your orgasm. You feeling him batter your cervix and g spot at the same time making your tummy burn and seeing white.

 “You are sweet girl? Go ahead. Do it.” He cooed, encouraging you to let go. You listened and quickly came, clenching around him making him follow soon after.

 He brought you up against him, his still being in you whispering sweet praise while stroking your head. You feel so content in his arms, enough to fall asleep, but unfortunately you two had to walk home as the sun was setting.

 “Love you meian” You said, snuggling in him yawning

“Love you too angel” he replied, kissing your forehead as you two watched the sun set in the distance, trying you best to stay awake. The both of you never being as happy as you were together.

<3

© all content belongs to spikesbimbo. do not alter or repost .

[elysianslove]

Hiii & congratulations on 500 followers. Can I request gojo with smut # 39 blindfolds he uses his own blindfold on the reader. Thxxx.

hiii thank you so much!! also this concept? i love it

nsfw under the cut, my loves!

500 Follower Event; 39. blindfolds ━ satoru gojō 

when he’d suggested incorporating something different in the bedroom, you hadn’t expected this. you’ve grown to prepare yourself for the worst with gojō, and he’s always surprising you with something new. if anything, this is pretty tame in comparison to other things he’s asked of you. but it’s the sentiment behind it that baffles you, only a little. 

“gojō,” you start, carefully. it’s a bit comical, how you’re both naked as the day you were born, but there’s not an ounce of discomfort or awkwardness. “i don’t mind the blindfold, just why yours specifically?” 

he chuckles, reaching over past you to grab the blindfold from where it lay next to you. you shiver as he momentarily hovers over you, and he chuckles, flicking one of your hardening nipples jokingly. “you sure the idea doesn’t excite you?” he teases.

you scoff, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest. “course it does. you know it does. but things get messy, and this is yours,” you argue. 

he grins at you, lifting the hand with the blindfold. “i’m the one offering, sweetheart,” he points out, and he’s already pushing you back against the pillows. you fall back with a sigh, watching as he crawls over to you, straddling your waist. no argument left in you, lust overtaking your senses as you glance up at your lover, beautiful as ever, you let him bring the blindfold over your eyes. “you trust me, yeah?” he asks, and it’s gentle, with no teasing touch to it. 

“with my life,” you reply. with that, he secures the blindfold, and your world is encased in darkness. 

at first, it’s clumsy. you’re not sure what to focus on, your senses overwhelming you all at once. his hands are on you, featherlight, tracing the skin of your stomach and middle, down to your hips and waist, and you can hear every shift of his body, every sharp inhale he takes. when you hear him exhale, you feel it between your legs, exactly where you want him to be, but you’re least expecting it. your hips jump up in surprise, and gojō reacts quickly, his large hands settling on your lower abdomen, pushing you back down on the bed as he shushes you calmly. “i got you, my love,” he promises, and you breathe out steadily.

you’re still unprepared when he places his mouth flat against you, but he is, and his hands press harsher, keeping you steady and still for him. his tongue licks a long stripe along your sex, before the tip pokes at your clit teasingly, circling it slowly. your breath stutters when he repeats the action, flattening his tongue against your clit, until his mouth closes around it, and you scream as he sucks lightly. you can feel him smile against you, at your reaction, and you whine. he sucks harsher on your clit, his thumb caressing your skin soothingly. 

his mouth travels lower again until his tongue is poking at your entrance, licking at the arousal that you have to offer. he eats you out greedily, like you’re his favorite candy, swallowing around you deliciously. his tongue only slips inside slightly, and you’re not sure if he’s teasing you or deliberately wanting to wait for the main event to feel up inside you. you gasp again when he licks at your folds up to your clit, hands flying to tousle and pull at his hair. against you, he hums appreciatively, savoring every taste of you. the blindfold intensifies every sensation tenfold, because you’re forced to focus on everything you’re feeling purely, and not confusing it with what you’re seeing. god, your lover’s a genius. 

a hand removes itself from your waist, but you don’t feel its presence again until you feel a pair of fingers lightly caress your folds. you squeal out in surprise as he pushes both fingers in, lips wrapped around your clit, sucking harshly. you pant heavier, hands pulling harder at his hair as he fucks you sensually with his fingers, twisting them inside you, his mouth forever latched on your clit. the stimulation is fuzzing up your brain, and with the added deprivation of your sense of sight, you climb up the ladder to your high a lot faster than usual. 

you call out his name weakly, a high pitched moan replacing it on your lips as he curls his fingers inside of you, and you breathlessly, in a small voice, warn, “gojō, m’gonna cum.” he sighs against you, placing your clit between his teeth and tugging. you groan, chest heaving. your back arches, your hips rolling in time with his seemingly endless ministrations. with a muffled moan behind tight lips, you push him harder against you, chasing the delicious high, until, as unexpected as everything is tonight, it crashes onto you, and suddenly you’re trembling uncontrollably beneath his grip. 

his mouth remains latched onto your clit, his fingers continuing to fuck you as he milks you of everything you have to give him. he’s still sucking on you, drinking up your arousal, smearing it across his lips and mouth, even as you try to push him away, dangerously tipping near overstimulation. 

with a shaky hand, you pull down the blindfold, wearing it as a collar instead, and hazily glance down at your lover. he’s grinning sheepishly up at you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he crawls up to hover over you. still breathless, you stare up at him dreamily as he says, “looks pretty on your neck,” and kills you all over again. 

500 Follower Event is now closed! 

[kayluh1915]

I Miss You

Pairing(s): Francisco "Catfish" Morales/Female Reader

Words: 1,645

Warnings: Implied PTSD, mentioned former drug addiction, 18+ ONLY!

You and Frankie have a much-needed chat... and some unanticipated (but welcomed) alone time.

(Gif credit: @uuuhshiny )

I have no excuse for this. I'm fuckin' weak for Frankie and this is just my proof. 👀

I would apologize for my filth, but I'm not really that sorry. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

As always, comments are welcomed and encouraged.

You can also follow me on Twitter if you'd like. My life is boring, but I try.

Enjoy, my fellow whores!

My Masterlist

Read on AO3

Frankie had been in his shed all afternoon.

Extra warnings: Oral sex (F receiving), rough (protected) sex, hair pulling, light sub/dom, and creampie.

____________________

He hadn’t quite been the same since returning from his spontaneous trip down to South America, burying himself in a multitude of projects ranging from small builds all the way up to fixing something on the car that really didn’t need to be fixed.

You didn’t complain. You’d rather him cope with that then his previous methods, but he’d still end up isolating himself for long periods of time, missing meals and countless hours of sleep.

He was laying under the car again when you took him his dinner that evening, only able to see his legs sticking out of the side as you heard him drop one of his wrenches.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, both sudden noises slightly startling you enough to emit a quiet yelp of surprise. Frankie heard you and rolled out from underneath the car, his eyes wide with concern. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay.” You sat his dinner down on his workbench and propped your back up against it, crossing your arms as you watched him stand up and start cleaning his hands with an old wash cloth. “What’s wrong with the car this time?” Frankie turned towards the battered sedan before answering.

“The oil needed changed and something was up with the axel. Was making some kind of weird noise.” You knew that the oil didn’t need to be changed and that the axel’s whirring was extremely mild, but tinkering helped him cope so you didn’t say anything. “What’d you make for dinner?”

“Chicken casserole. Didn’t really turn out the way I wanted it.”

“Anything you make is delicious, baby.” He commented, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you.” This is when you’d usually go back inside and let him have his space, but tonight you couldn’t find the strength to move. Frankie would always come in afterwards with his clean plate and help you with whatever you needed in the house, but you missed him.

You missed the evenings where you would sit and chat about whatever was on your mind, the nonsense you’d speak together and the laughter you shared. You missed cuddling up with him on the couch, letting him play with your hair as one of you complained about the “horrible” movie the other had picked. You missed going to bed at the same time, Frankie’s arms snaking around your waist as he kissed you sweetly.

Most of all, you missed him .

The nights when his innocent kisses would turn passionate, your tongues swirling around one another as his strong hands touched you exactly where you liked.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Frankie asked while chewing his food, bringing you back to the present with a light jolt.

“Yeah, honey. I’m fine… just thinking.” He swallowed the bite he had in his mouth, holding another forkful up.

“About what?” He asked before taking another bite. Your heart spoke before your brain could.

“How much I miss you…” Frankie stopped chewing, his dark eyes quickly glancing over to look at you. You wanted to scold yourself for what you had said. You understood that Frankie was going through a lot mentally and have tried to be supportive, but it was taking its toll.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until a choked sob tore it’s way past your trembling lips.

“Oh, sweetheart…” Frankie cooed, setting his fork down and pulling you into his arms. You laid your head on his shoulder, gripping the back of his shirt tightly as you cried into his neck. Frankie began to gently sway you, kissing the top of your head every now and again.

“I-I’m sorry, Frankie. I know you need me… to be strong and support you but-” You paused for a moment when you sobbed again. “Going to bed without you is so ha-ard.” You began to cry heavier at the confession, Frankie gently brushing your hair out of your eyes.

“Shhh… I know baby, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Please do-don’t feel guilty. I know yo-you’re trying to cope, bu-”

“Shhh.” He interrupted you. “Don’t you apologize for anything, baby. I know I’ve been distant lately after what happened, but you have been wonderful. Cooking me dinner every night and letting me have my space to recoup after all of that? Not a lot of women would do that.”

You didn’t say anything else, allowing his soothing voice to comfort you.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been spending a lot of time with you recently. I’ve been thinking about things a lot and didn’t realize how much I was hurting you. I promise, from today on, I’ll start coming in earlier, start eating dinner with you like we used to and even help you cook if you want.”

You wiped your nose with your sleeve, nodding eagerly on his chest. Frankie pulled away from you and held your face in his warm palms, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “I love you, my little dolphin.” He whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. You smiled at the pet name, the inside joke you haven’t shared in months bringing some joy back.

“There’s that smile.” He giggled, leaning back down to kiss you properly. At first it had only been a peck, but you were so hungry for him that you pulled him right back in. You threw your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, Frankie not denying you even for a second.

His hands left your face and moved down to your waist, pulling you close with a low hum of approval. Your hands raked through his curls, knocking his cap off so you could grip his dark locks to hear those delicious groans fall from his throat.

“Please…” You whined, barley pulling yourself away from him. “Touch me… plea-.” Frankie’s hands flew to your hips, lifting you up to sit you atop his work bench. He instantly yanked your leggings off, taking your underwear with them and leaving you naked from the waist down… minus your strawberry socks.

He knelt down to his knees without another word, spreading your legs open and instantly pressing his face into your cunt. He had moved so fast that it took you a moment to process what was going on, tingles erupting from your clit, down your legs and all the way to your toes.

It hadn’t been that long since you’d been touched, but they always say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. The same must be true for your pussy as well.

“Ohhh…” You breathed, his tongue making you lightheaded. “F-Fuck…”

Frankie hummed, the vibrations only increasing your pleasure as he looked up at you. You were already so incredibly close, the tingling in your clit rapidly growing in intensity until… he pulled away. You whined quietly, your pussy aching with need.

“Down.” He said simply as he undid his pants. You jumped down from the workbench, completely unprepared for him to spin you around and roughly bend you over the table. He pinned you down with his left hand on your lower back, his right hand rubbing his cock along your drenched folds before pushing in completely in one thrust.

You felt like you had been sat on fire, the heat spreading over your body as he fucked you rough. You heard a few things fall to the floor as the table began hitting the side of his shed with his thrusts, but both of you were already too far gone to care about his tools.

“Fuck, baby girl.” He growled, his hands tightly gripping your hips. “So fucking’ wet for me.” You felt like you couldn’t breathe, his cock hitting the perfect spot every time. You placed your hands on the table and rose up slightly, one of Frankie’s hands instantly leaving your hip to push you back down to the table.

“Don’t fucking move.” You moaned at how rough he was being, your pussy throbbing with an incoming orgasm. Keeping you pinned to the table, he tangled his fingers into your hair and pulled it, the painful pleasure and one last perfect thrust of his cock doing the job and sending you over the edge.

Your cunt fluttered around his cock, the waves of absolute pleasure feeling more intense than they had in a while. Frankie never slowed down.

“Y-Yeah… take it.” He growled. “Being such a good girl for me, baby… cumming all over my cock. You think- fuck - you think you deserve your reward?”

“Yes, please! Give it to me! I’ve been such a good girl! I deserve it! Ple-” He tugged harder on your hair, a whine interrupting your pleas.

“Good girl, begging for your reward. M’gonna fill you up so good.”

“Yes! Frankie, please! Give it to me! Give me your cu-uhhh… uhhh… ahhhhhh!” You exclaimed, cumming on his cock for a second time without warning. It was also the end for Frankie.

“Fuck, baby!” He halted his thrusts, growling low and loud and he shot his cum into your pulsing cunt. The warmth expanding in your abdomen prolonged your orgasm, your legs shaking and buckling out from under you. Frankie held onto you tight, pulling you up to stand as he placed kisses to the back of your neck and shoulder, his breathing still coming out in heavy puffs over your skin.

"Did I hurt you, sweetheart?" He asks, gently easing the grip in your hair.

"God no." You replied, still trying to catch your breath. "You-you have no idea how much I've missed that." Frankie eased himself out of you, a mixture of his and your own cum dripping out of your pussy. Frankie hummed at the sight, lightly gripping your ass cheek to spread you open to get a better view.

"I think I got a pretty good idea."

[the1918]

O = Oral | Evanstan

for the anons who asked for...

Evanstan Head Canon Game - A to Z (NSFW): O = Oral

Because Chris Evans deserves some good oral on his birthday (even if it’s technically a little late) 

Chris finds out pretty quickly when he and Seb first start to fool around that he loves sucking cock-- or Sebastian’s cock, at least. I think that happens the very first time they hook up, before they’ve even begun to actually explore a dynamic, when Chris is so overcome with a level of lust and wanting like he’s never experienced before that he just sinks to his knees in Seb’s trailer without even thinking twice about the fact that he’s about to put another man’s dick in his mouth. He does it, and he loves it-- and he’s pretty bad at it but Seb is a good and patient teacher and he helps Chris figure it out. Chris is a quick learner in everything he does.

“Gonna come, sweet boy? Gonna let me swallow you up?”

And then I think that Chris finds out during the CA:CW press tour, when he and Seb take their fooling around up to something more, that what he loves even more than sucking Seb’s cock is eating Seb’s ass. He’d been thinking about doing that for a good long while in the time he’s been away from Seb since filming wrapped, thought about it with his hand on his own cock while his brain reeled through all the dirty things that the two of them had already done together and the things that Chris still wanted to do. So when he finally gets Seb alone again and naked and pinned face-down to a hotel bed Chris makes a point to run his mouth over every bit of skin on Seb’s body, saving his pretty pink hole for last. This he’s a natural at, and he makes Seb shoot onto the sheets that night with just his tongue and his lewd slurping noises and the friction from his beard, with help from a couple of fingers.

“Fuck, baby, taste so good. Knew you would. M’gonna come in this hole later, get it even more wet for you, like you asked. Gonna lick myself out of it after-- yeah? You like the sound ‘a that?”

For Sebastian’s part, Chris has never in his life gotten his dick sucked so damn good. Seb swallows cock like it’s what he was put on this earth to do and he does with zeal, makes Chris get loud and vocal every time, makes him want heap on the praise-- 

“Yeah, sugar, fuck you’re so good. So good for me, take my cock down your throat so well. Gonna let me fuck your face tonight, sweetie? Huh? Gonna open wide and let go, lemme take over? There you go, fuck yes, just take it for me. Jus’ take it.”

But I think it’s not until after Chris and Seb have admitted their feelings and decided that they’re just gonna be each other’s now that Chris Evans gets his first ever rim job. I think it happens on his birthday one year, and it’s not something Chris sees coming.

They go out with Chris’s Boston friends to a bar where they have a good time, and Seb keeps leaning over all night to whisper into Chris’s ear all the things he’s going to let Chris do to him, running his hands along Chris’s thigh and even up across his denim-clad cock when no one is looking, getting Chris wound up and worked up and ready to fuck Seb the second they get home and walk through the door 

By the time their clothes are off Chris is acting fucking feral, a little loose from the drinks, just trying to find the quickest way to get his cock inside Seb and groaning at the delicious way that Seb’s sinful mouth feels running all over his skin when he surprises Chris by pushing him onto his back and climbing on top

“Wanna get my mouth on you,” he whispers into Chris’s ear, like it’s a secret, and maybe Chris was about five seconds from fucking Seb clear through the mattress but it’s his fucking birthday, okay? Maybe he’s usually the one in charge when they’re in bed but he’s feelin’ pretty floozy from the liquor and he’s not going to turn down an opportunity to be on the receiving end of one of his boyfriend’s legendary blowjobs if that’s what his baby wants to give him

He moans and lets his head rest on the pillow as Seb kisses down his body, biting and sucking at his nipples for a little bit because they’d both discovered how much Chris likes that years ago, before Seb gets to his rock-hard cock and gives the head a few kitten licks, gives the shaft one clean swipe, gives his balls a sweet nuzzle… and then keeps going

Chris’s groan probably about splits the room in half when he realizes what Seb is about to do, and it doesn’t matter that they’ve never gone further before with Chris and assplay  than Seb fingerbanging him a little bit because Chris’s blood is warm and his body is on board with this, his legs immediately opening wider and knees bending of their own accord to give Seb better access as his wet lips trail down his perineum

Seb has to laugh a little at the eagerness Chris shows but he’s happy about it, knew that the alcohol would let Chris loosen the reins a little and not second-guess himself about how much he wants this

When Seb presses that first teasing lick to Chris’s rim Chris moans like a goddamn whore, shoots his hands down to wrap his fingers through Seb’s hair and urge him on, and then when the teasing turns to hot laps and obscene slurping noises against his hole Chris just starts babbling

“Jesus Christ, Seb, fuck!” and “damn, baby, use that tongue, fuckin’ lick me,” and then he’s probably giggling a little, too, pulling Seb’s head into his ass and “mm, yeah-- c’mon, yeah, gimme kisses there sweetheart, baby, oh, jus’ like that”

And Seb hasn’t gotten to do this to anyone in a really long time so he’s actually forgotten just how much he loves this, makes a note in his head to do this more often when Chris will let him

When Seb’s mouth wanders back up to suck on Chris’s balls for a minute Chris can’t stop his own hand from wrapping around his cock, giving himself a few wild pumps while Seb presses a wet knuckle against the fleshy mound of his perineum and pulses Chris’s prostate from the outside

Seb looks up at Chris over the action of his big hand jerking his cock and makes eye contact, lets Chris see him stick two fingers into his mouth and get them slick so he can show Chris exactly what he plans on doing to his ass next-- but then Chris’s shout is surprising them both and his cock is shooting all over his stomach and a little on his own chin, striping up his skin with white while his hand continues to pump frantically until there’s nothing left

Sebastian can do nothing but watch the entire thing in awe

I’m pretty sure that Chris just needs a minute afterwards, so Seb situates himself in Chris’s arms while he watches his boyfriend try to stitch his brain back together. They’ve both got stupid smiles on their faces the whole time. Chris lets out helpless little laughing noises every now and then while he’s mentally reviewing what the hell just went down.

Eventually Chris gathers his wits enough to scoop Seb up into his arms and kiss the hell out of him (neither of them ever care about whose mouth has been where when they’re fucking), and Sebastian lets himself be kissed and kissed and kissed until Chris is starting to grow tipsy-sleepy, and he doesn’t even care about his own erection for the moment. He gives Chris one final, smacking kiss to his cheek and whispers into his ear:

“Happy birthday, baby.”

***

Evanstan Head Canon Game - A to Z  Prompts and Masterlist

lynne’s full masterlist [x]

[lastbluetardis]

Chemical Reaction (19/22)

Summary: Though their chemistry class is now over, the chemistry between James and Rose is just getting started. Together, they navigate the highs of new love and the lows of coping with past trauma to forge deep and unbreakable bonds of love and commitment. Part 2 in the Catalysis series. Tagging @doctorroseprompts

This chapter: ~7400 words, teen

If you like my stories, consider leaving me a tip? I know these are trying times, but if you are able, I would really appreciate it xoxo. And as always, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated as well.

AO3 | FF | TSP

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14 | Ch15 | Ch16 | Ch17 | Ch18 | Ch19 | Ch20 | Ch21 | epilogue

James couldn’t believe his eyes. He blinked hard, thinking his exhaustion had caught up with him. No, the blonde woman on his porch had to be the night-shift nurse who lived across the street—she often liked to indulge in late-night baking on her nights off, and there were times she would come to James for an ingredient she was missing, or to give him a small sampling of her confectionery creations.

(He had the sudden, jarring, embarrassing realization that she may have been flirting with him the whole time… Is that why she hasn’t come around in months?)

“Rose,” he said again when blinking stupidly for at least ten seconds didn’t transform Rose into anyone else.

“Hi,” she said quietly. She looked exhausted; there were prominent shadows beneath her eyes and her shoulders drooped like a heavy weight sat upon them.

Her gaze flicked over his shoulder, and her face fell. “Oh. Sorry. Didn’t realize you had company. I’ll just…” She thumbed behind herself to the dark road. How did she get here? “Sorry.”

Before he could protest, Jack clapped James on the shoulder and announced, “No, no. I was getting ready to head out. Come on, get in out of the cold.”

Jack pressed a smacking kiss to James’s cheek, then muttered, “Talk to her,” into his ear. He then stepped forward and gave Rose a loose hug and kiss on the cheek before he walked to his vehicle that was parked on the side of the street.

They turned to watch Jack start his car and drive off into the night. James looked at Rose, then at the squarish plastic Tupperware container she held. She was absently flicking her thumb nail across the tab on the lid.

“What’ve you got there?” he asked, nodding to the container.

Rose chewed on her bottom lip and pushed her hair behind her ear. “Well. We’ve been playing a game all month, haven’t we? Time to celebrate.”

She popped the lid off the container and handed it to him. In it were half a dozen large, muffin-sized chocolate cupcakes, frosted in vanilla icing and decorated with pink and yellow star sprinkles. The words “Happy Birthday” were written in small, neat, glossy red letters across each cupcake. His stomach sank.

“It… it’s your birthday?” he croaked. Of course—of fucking course—today had been her birthday.

Rose nodded. “I… I didn’t want to let my entire birthday pass without spending some time with my favorite person.”

James nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Hope you had fun.”

Rose raised an incredulous eyebrow, and the penny dropped.

“Me?” he squeaked, the knot in his chest loosening.

“Yes you, you numpty. Just because I’m angry with you doesn’t mean I stopped loving you. Do you not love me anymore because we fought?”

James’s knees weakened at the ‘l’ word. He took a step towards her, the arm not holding the cupcakes extended. Her face softened and she stepped into his proffered embrace. Her body was warm and solid against him. Heat prickled behind his eyes as he wrapped his arms as tightly around her as he could without upending the Tupperware container.

“I’m sorry, Rose. I’m so sorry. I…”

“Can we not do this on the front porch?” she asked, voice muffled. “S’cold.”

James was loath to let go of her, but he had to agree the night was getting frigid, especially for him, with his bare feet and thin pajama bottoms and t-shirt. With a sigh, he gave her a final squeeze and dropped his arms from around her waist, then stepped back to usher her into his home.

She toed off her shoes by the front door, and he could already predict her questions when she angled her head towards the hallway. “Did you paint something?”

James scratched the back of his neck. “Er. Yeah. Started repainting my bedroom.”

A small, sad smile tugged at the side of Rose’s mouth. “Needed something to keep your mind busy?”

“Something like that,” he admitted.

A more genuine smile crossed her face as she gestured to the Tupperware container he was holding. “Y’know, stress baking would've been cheaper.”

James blinked, then gaped down at the cupcakes he was holding. The font of the words was perfect cursive, the spread of the icing uniform and even. He blurted, “You made these?”

“Thanks for that vote of confidence,” she drawled. “Yes, I made them. Well. Elsa helped. She came over to my flat this afternoon. Bit of a girl’s night. Had pizza and wine, then made cupcakes. She’s actually really good at decorating; she’s got this whole set of frosting tips to make fancy designs. She did the lettering.”

“They look lovely. Very professional,” he said. He jutted his head to his kitchen, motioning for her to follow. She did, her quiet, shuffling footsteps falling into rhythm with his.

Rather than go into the kitchen, Rose peeled off to the living room, where Merry and Pippin were lounging on the sofa together, half-asleep. James watched her squat down in front of the cats and give them a bit of love before she returned to him.

“Should Jack have driven himself home?”

James glanced at Rose and saw her pointing to the kitchen table, where the mostly-empty bottle of wine sat. It had a few mouthfuls left.

“It was only half-full when we started,” James answered, picking up the bottle and hurriedly drinking the last of the wine. “This was from last weekend, when you and I… Anyway, he had one glass. I drank most of it. He should be fine.”

“Tell him to let us know when he gets home safely,” Rose said.

James snapped off a lazy salute then sent Jack a text, passing along Rose’s request. He set the Tupperware container of cupcakes on the counter before grabbing two clean bowls from the dishwasher he hadn’t bothered to empty.

“Oh, I really shouldn’t,” Rose said with a grimace. “I already had one after they came out of the oven. Plus pizza. M’gonna puff up like a balloon.”

She pinched her waist, and James frowned. “What are you talking about? You’re beautiful.”

Her cheeks flamed pink and she dropped her hand limply to her side. 

“I had a huge, greasy burger and chips for dinner. D’you think I’m gonna puff up like a balloon?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Well, no. But you’re…” She let her sentence dangle as she waved her hand vaguely up and down his body. 

“And you’re…” He mirrored her gesture. “Rose, I find you absolutely beautiful, and you losing or gaining weight won’t change my opinion. Not that my opinion should matter. If you don’t want a cupcake, or if you’re not hungry, that’s fine. And again, not that you need my approval.”

Rose sighed and twisted her hands in front of herself before she turned away from him and rooted in his freezer for ice cream he always made sure to have on hand.

“I had a minor eating disorder as a teen,” Rose said quietly, pulling out the ice cream and shutting the freezer. “Nothing too serious. I was obsessed with my weight, and was really careful with what I ate. I counted and logged calories. I grew out of it when I realized watching what I ate made me feel even worse about myself. Of course I still tried to eat healthy and to eat reasonably-sized portions, but I stopped being so strict with it. I obviously started putting on some weight, nothing too drastic, but Jimmy would often tease me and tell me to lay off the chips or whatever, because rock stars don’t date chubby girls.”

James’s ears were ringing with rage and heartbreak, and he was furious with himself for everything he had accused Rose of last night regarding Jimmy.

“Rose, I…”

“As I said, I’m fine now and I don’t really care about my weight or body image as much,” Rose interrupted, setting the ice cream on the counter in front of him. “But sometimes those thoughts pop up without me realizing it. Like they did just now.”

Unsure of how to respond, James instead took a cupcake out of the Tupperware container, unwrapped the paper from the bottom, and set it into the bowl. “Did I… did I say something wrong?”

“No. Quite the opposite, actually. You told me your opinion, but didn’t shove it in my face or try to force me to believe you. And like I said, I don’t often realize when I’m having these thoughts.”

He nodded and forced his lips into some semblance of a smile that he hoped looked supportive. He then returned his gaze to the bowl and the ice cream she’d retrieved.

“D’you want to share this with me?” he asked, gesturing to the bowl with a spoon.

Rose nodded. He scooped several large dollops of vanilla ice cream into the bowl then he went to his junk drawer. It overflowed with a random assortment of objects: scissors, several different types of batteries, notepads, pens, pencils, a ruler, a screwdriver, tape, glue, Band-Aids, rubber bands, paper clips, binder clips, thumbtacks, toothpicks, a ball of twine, a condom, a tampon, and so many other things James didn't remember throwing into the drawer.

He dug through the mishmash of objects until he found a small, half-empty box of birthday candles and a matchbook. He took out four candles and brought them and the matches over to where Rose stood at the counter.

“I would try to shove twenty-two of them into the cupcake, but firstly I don’t have twenty-two candles, and secondly, I’m pretty sure I would end up pulverizing the poor cupcake into a pile of crumbs. So use your imagination; two and two equates to twenty-two.”

He shoved two of the candles side by side into the left side of the cupcake, right before the H and B in “Happy Birthday”. The other two, he stuck into the right side of the cupcake, behind both Ys. Striking the match, he ignored the shaking in his hands as he lit the candles. He then promptly blew out the match and dropped it into the water-filled wine glass in the sink to let it stop smoking. However, Rose must have seen the tremor in his hands, because she reached over and threaded their fingers together.

“I don’t like fire,” he admitted. “For obvious reasons.”

“You didn’t have to light the candles then,” Rose said gently.

“Pfff. It’s your birthday. Can’t have a birthday without blowing out some candles. How else will you get a free wish?”

Rose cracked a small smile and squeezed his fingers. She leaned forward as though she were about to blow out her candles. James cried, “Wait!”

She pulled back with a start.

“It’s your twenty-second birthday. I would think you would remember how this goes by now,” he drawled. He then sucked in a deep breath and began to sing. “Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear Ro-ooose. Happy Birthday to youuuuu.”

She was grinning by the end of it, especially when he intentionally sang off-key for the sole purpose of making her smile. He’d made her cry too much in the last twenty-four hours; a smile from her was a welcome sight.

“Right. Those candles are all charged up with birthday magic. Now you can make a wish and blow,” he said, bowing and gesturing to her cupcake.

Rolling her eyes at him, Rose closed her eyes and paused for about five seconds, before she blew out a short breath, extinguishing the candles with ease. He applauded her effort, then yanked the candles out of the cupcake and extended two of them to her. They licked off the cake crumbs and icing—cream cheese, he noted with delight—then dropped them into the trash.

“Let’s eat this before all the ice cream melts,” James said, gesturing to the table. “Want anything to drink? More wine?”

“Just water.”

He grabbed two glasses from the dishwasher and filled them with water from the pitcher in the fridge before plopping down at the table beside Rose. He noticed his phone had a new text notification; Jack had replied, letting him know he was home. James relayed the news to Rose, then gestured for her to take the first bite of her birthday cupcake.

For several long minutes, they sat silently together, trading off bites of cupcake and ice cream until the bowl was empty. 

“That was very good,” he praised, swiping his finger through the melted mess of ice cream and chocolate crumbs on the bottom of the bowl and licking the digit clean.

“Thanks. Elsa loves to bake but doesn't get the chance to do it as often as she likes because she lives in the dorms on campus.” Rose ran her fingertip along the rim of her glass. “When I invited her over to my flat, she said stress baking was a requirement. She didn’t know it was my birthday until we started decorating the cupcakes.”

“Do you have an aversion to people knowing it’s your birthday?”

She snorted. “No. But it just… it didn’t feel right to celebrate. Not when we’d…” She trailed off with a shrug. “All month I’d been looking forward to finally telling you it was my birthday. It didn’t feel right to tell anyone about my birthday if I couldn’t tell you.”

“I really buggered your birthday,” he sighed, chest tightening.

“Nah.” She pursed her lips. “Okay, well, yeah. But it wasn’t just you. I didn’t help. I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate my birthday today, so I kept it to myself. Anyways. Elsa knocked a bit of sense into me this afternoon. Helped put some things into better perspective.”

“I’m glad you have a friend like that to share things with,” he said.

Rose hummed in agreement. “She also called me out for being an idiot.”

James snorted. “Jack did much the same for me.” He paused, fidgeting uncomfortably for a few seconds before he blurted, “I am so sorry, Rose. I’m so sorry for snooping through your mail and reading that letter, and I’m so sorry for jumping to a conclusion that was absolutely ridiculous, and I’m sorry for accusing you of not trusting me. I’m sorry I twisted the situation and your words and actions to put the blame all on you. I’m sorry I let my own insecurities warp my perceptions of you and our relationship, and I’m so, so sorry for ever insinuating that you would want to go back to Jimmy.”

Rose was dead silent. When James chanced a peek over at her, he was horrified to see tears welling in her eyes. She blinked and they fell down her cheeks.

Sniffling, she wiped at them and whispered, “That really hurt. I thought I had told you enough about Jimmy to show you he wasn’t a nice person to be in a relationship with. And I thought…” 

“You did,” James interrupted fervently. “You did Rose. You were absolutely correct in saying I had selective memory. You told me more about him than I realized. I was too caught up in my own head last night to remember everything you’d said. I’m so sorry about that.”

Rose waved him off. “Forget Jimmy for a minute. Even if he wasn’t a wanker… It hurt that you would think I would be tempted into a new relationship with someone else when we’ve been so happy together. At least, I’ve been happy.”

“I’ve been happy, too,” James said. He covered her hand with his. “I swear, Rose. I’ve been so happy with you.”

He wished he had better answers for her. He wished he could explain what had triggered him last night, explain how his brain had disregarded nearly seven months of a friendship and four months of a relationship stronger than he’d ever had before. Why had he thought Rose would be tempted by an ex-boyfriend who had treated her so horribly? Why did he have the anxiety that Rose would see through his facade and realize he wasn’t as exciting as she’d thought? Why was he so fearful she would leave?

Because everyone leaves.

The realization crashed over him with the force of a tidal wave, pushing his head beneath the water until he could barely breathe. He was drowning, fighting a losing battle against the current, about to be swept away into the sea when he was thrown a lifeline.

Rose squeezed his fingers hard, grounding him, pulling him back to the moment. His chest was tight and tears blurred his vision.

Everyone leaves.

His mother, who had thought it more prudent to attend to their dogs rather than get herself to safety with her husband and son.

His father, who had rescued him from their burning house only to leave him on the street to go back inside. James hadn’t been enough to keep his dad by his side, and so he had lost two parents that night.

His aunt, who had never wanted kids, had never expected to have kids. She pulled long hours and travelled incessantly, chasing big news stories while James pretended he was fine with being alone, while silently wishing his dad had never saved him from their house. He knew without a doubt that, if his aunt could do it all over again, if she knew then what she knew now, she never would have agreed to be his godmother when he was born. He loved his aunt, and knew his aunt loved him, but he wasn’t so naïve as to be ignorant of the fact that he had upheaved his aunt’s life, and not entirely for the better.

The friends he had left behind in the UK and never heard from again after he and his aunt moved to America. People he had known since childhood who hadn’t bothered putting in the effort to stay in touch, despite claiming they would.

His previous partners, many of whom finding ways to end their brief relationship after realizing he didn’t want to have sex with them. Time after time, he had to listen to them say it was fine that they weren’t being physically intimate—with an unspoken yet dangling between them—only to listen to them make up excuses for why they were ending the relationship. Granted, he had broken off a relationship himself a few times, but over half the time, his partner had been the one to end it.

Over and over, people came and people went, and at the heart of it, James was hardly more than a spectre, unable to be seen or heard as his heart was left broken. And yet when Rose had joined him, had taken his hand and made promises and vows that nobody ever had before, he had jumped at the first opportunity to assume she would leave him, too.

Chair legs scraped across the floor a moment before a warm, familiar arm wrapped around his waist. He turned into Rose and rested his cheek on her shoulder, breathing in her scent, the subtle tones of amber and citrus, of warmth and love and home.

Something deep in his chest cracked open, releasing the floodgates. For the past nine and a half years, he had been drifting, trying to make sense of how he could feel so alone when he was surrounded by people, able to make new friends and acquaintances at the drop of a hat. Yet there was always that disconnect, making him feel more like an outsider looking in. Like everyone else was aware of the punchline of a joke while he was left clueless.

Until Rose. With Rose it had been natural. Effortless. It was though his world had shifted into perfect focus, and at the heart of it was her. She had reminded him of what it felt like to belong, to feel perfectly at home with another person. And though he was desperate not to lose her and what they had together, part of him was holding his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Yet in doing so, he had let his anxiety take control and had hurt Rose badly enough that he had nearly caused her to do exactly what he had been terrified of.

James’s shoulders shook as he wept quietly into Rose’s neck, dampening the collar of her shirt. She didn’t seem to mind. Instead, she held him closer, rubbing her hand up and down the length of his spine as he sobbed and gasped for breath.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I’m so sorry for everything, Rose.”

Haltingly, through the juddering tears that cracked his voice, he explained his revelation to her. He hoped he didn’t sound like he was making excuses for himself, but he genuinely wanted her to understand the conclusion his big, stupid brain had come to.

“I let my fears take over,” he said, voice raw from crying and talking. “I didn’t realize what they were. And I didn’t realize how loud they’d gotten.”

“I understand,” Rose said quietly. “Believe me. I understand. Is there anything I can do to help you quiet them?”

James rubbed his hand beneath his clogged, stuffy nose and grimaced when it came away wet. He pulled away from Rose and stood, moving to the sink to wash his hands, then to grab a handful of tissues. He blotted his eyes then blew his nose before he sank into his seat beside her again.

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I know this is a me problem, not a you problem. You’ve been wonderful, Rose. You and me… our relationship… it has all been wonderful. I don’t know why I was so quick to let ten minutes of screaming insecurities make me forget about half a year of loving you.”

Rose chewed on the inside of her cheek, contemplating. “If ever there’s a time those voices are getting too loud, I’d like you to tell me. Though I know sometimes they can go unnoticed. But if you realize you’re getting stuck in your head, let me know and I’ll try to help you out of it.”

James flashed her a grateful smile. “Same for you. If there’s ever a time I can help you with whatever’s on your mind…”

Rose sighed. “I need to get better about that. I’ve realized I have a bad habit of telling myself I will deal with something later, but later never actually comes.” She sucked in a big breath and blew it out again. “I’m sorry you saw that letter from Jimmy. Yeah, you were a bit of a twat for reading it and reacting like you did. But I’m sorry you were blindsided like that, and that I ignored how it made you feel. And I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t trust you. I’m sorry I made you self-conscious for everything you’ve shared with me and that you feel like I don’t share enough with you.” She let out a sad little laugh that twisted his heart. “This is going to sound lame, but I honestly didn’t realize I wasn’t being as open with you as I thought I was. It feels like you know me better than anyone ever has, so I didn’t think to change anything. But now that I know how you feel, I want to work to be better at that.”

James shook his head and covered her hand. “No, Rose. I got caught up in my own head and in my frustration. You’ve shared more with me than I wanted to admit last night.” Jack’s words clanged around in his head. “I shouldn’t have expected the exact same level of sharing from you as I am comfortable with giving.”

“That’s not fair. I am comfortable with you…”

James cringed. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not accusing you of anything, Rose. Merely stating a fact. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty or upset, I swear. I want you to be comfortable talking with me, and forcing you to talk about things you aren’t comfortable with is counterproductive.”

“Thing is, I was always going to tell you everything about Jimmy,” Rose sighed. “When he first texted me, it sent me into a blind panic and I sorta… shut down. I wanted to take the time I needed to get into a better place before sharing it with you. But I guess I didn’t realize how long it was since he first texted me.”

James stayed silent, letting her get her thoughts together. He twined their fingers together, happy to be able to sit and touch her like this, when for many long, heartbreaking hours in the wee hours of that morning, he had been sure that he would never be able to do so again. Her hand fit perfectly in his, and he knew that he would do whatever it took to make their relationship whole again, to make sure he could hold her hand for the rest of their lives.

When Rose began speaking, he gave her his full attention and tried to keep his emotions in check. He listened to her explain how Jimmy had texted her out of the blue, having gotten her number from a “mutual friend”.

“M’still not sure who gave it to him,” Rose said with a sigh. “He never told me and none of my friends claim to have done it.”

James listened to her describe the early conversations she’d had with Jimmy, from telling him that she needed time, to working through her anxiety with the help of Elsa and a counselor, to coming to the decision to let Jimmy say his piece.

“He was very important to me at one time. He was the love of my life. He was my everything. He will always be important and special because I genuinely loved him, and like it or not, my experiences with him shaped me into the person I am today. I don’t love him anymore, and frankly don’t miss him or want what we used to have, but if this would help him and me move on, I really wanted to let him say what he needed to say.

“He apologized to me, and it wasn’t even a terrible apology. Though he did make it sound like we both were at fault, but you know what, it was better than I was expecting, so I sorta took it as a win. I figured we were done, but then he wanted to know if he could repay me for all the debts he’d left me with. I can’t remember if I told you before, but he stopped paying his part of the rent at the end of our relationship. I got so behind on those payments because I had other bills to focus on that by the time I moved out, I was six months behind.

“I refused Jimmy’s offer. Told him everything was paid off and he didn’t owe me anything.” Rose sniffled and smiled ruefully, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “You know my money insecurities. I couldn’t stand the thought that he might use this as a way to control me again. So I shut him down.”

“Good for you,” James murmured, his first words in a while. “You don’t have to go on. It’s okay.”

But Rose shook her head. “I want you to know all of this. I want to come to you when—as Elsa puts it—shit ties up my brain. And my brain has been in knots for over a month. I want to be better with being okay about my thoughts sometimes getting tangled; I realized if I waited until my brain was calm to tell you everything, I would never tell you anything. I don’t want secrets between us, and I’m frustrated with myself that I unwittingly kept secrets from you. I can’t promise I will tell you immediately when something is on my mind, but I will make more of an effort to be more open with you. I wish I’d told you all of this sooner, but I can’t go back and change how I handled this, so let me tell you all of this now.”

James nodded and brought their clasped hands to his lips for a soft kiss.

“After I told Jimmy I didn’t want his money, I thought we were done. I didn’t hear from him for a few days, but then I got a text from him, a selfie with some of our old friends. A harmless group photo. Then he started sharing news from home. Or he would send me playlists. Stupid, innocent stuff we used to. He has really good taste in music and I’m always happy to have new songs or artists to listen to.

“We started chatting a little more regularly. Not daily, but a few times a week. A few messages at a time. He shared updates about his life, told me about going to drug and alcohol meetings, financial counseling, and so on. I told him about America and school. I didn’t tell him about you, though. It’s stupid, and I should have because I don’t think Jimmy realizes I’m not single, but you’re mine.” The word sent a thrill up James’s spine, and he couldn’t help but kiss her knuckles again. “You’re mine and I didn’t want to share you with him. I didn’t want anything of Jimmy to touch you. And I wasn’t trying to lead him on or anything. Or keep him a secret from you. But all of a sudden it’s been five weeks since he first texted.

“Then he sent me that letter. It came two days ago. I cried when I got it. I never gave him my address, so I panicked that he had somehow stalked me and found me, that he would be waiting at the university for me. And I was just… so defeated. I thought maybe he’d changed. Grown up or something. Stupidly, I thought maybe we could eventually be friends. But the only thing he wanted was for me to get back together with him.”

Rose’s tears dripped down her cheeks and her breathing hitched. James wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a hug. She willingly leaned into him and sniffled quietly for a long moment.

“Did you really think that was a love letter?” Rose croaked.

“Pardon?”

“What Jimmy wrote to me. Did you think it read like a love letter?”

James sucked on the inside of his lower lip. He tried to remember the content of the letter, but his memories were all tainted with the pain of their argument.

“I don’t remember enough of it,” he confessed. “I’m sorry.”

Rose lifted her bum off of her chair, reaching into her back pocket to pull out a piece of paper that had been folded into eighths.

“Here,” she said, giving it to him.

Tentatively, he took it. Rose pulled herself out of his embrace and grabbed a tissue from the crumpled pile he had brought over. 

As he reread the letter, his stomach twisted into knots when he picked out several words and phrases.

I’ve found a piece of myself…

I’m not complete…

I hate the person I am without you… 

…happiest of my life… 

…nothing more I’ve wanted…

…(our life?)… 

You make me feel like I can do anything… 

I love how I feel when I’m with you… 

I was scared about how much I needed you… 

…something I always knew would be there for me… 

I know I can make it work this time… 

…enjoy your time there, while you can… 

…we can work harder together to make us work… 

I will do whatever it takes to make this work… 

Over and over, James read the letter, his mind picking up more of the tone and the sheer selfishness in it. Everything Jimmy said was about him, about how he needed Rose, without giving a thought about whether Rose wanted or needed him. He plainly admitted to taking her for granted, and still, after all this time, he acted as though he and Rose were equally at fault for how their relationship had ended.

How must it have sounded to Rose, for him to go off on her about the letter?

“Oh, Rose,” James breathed, “I’m so sorry. God, I was a twat, wasn’t I?”

She let out a watery giggle. “Yeah, a bit.”

“Can I ask…? How did Jimmy find your address? I mean. Do you even know how he found it?”

Rose’s eyes welled with tears again, even as she scoffed. “My mum.”

“Your… mum?” That had not been what James had expected. “But… why?”

Rose shook her head. “Apparently Jimmy went ‘round the estate. Found my mum and told her we’d been chatting. Said he wanted to send me money to help cover the bills I’d paid. He said exactly the right thing—when I moved back home, my mum kept telling me over and over that Jimmy should cough up the money to cover his half of the flat and the expenses that had built up. 

“A couple weeks ago, my mum asked me if I’d been chatting with Jimmy. When I said yes, I guess she assumed I knew Jimmy wanted to repay me but I was being unreasonable.” Rose’s face crumpled. “I know my mum didn’t know how badly Jimmy had treated me, and that's my fault for not telling her. But what if he’d been a murderous stalker? What if he’d physically or sexually abused me? What if he used that information and showed up alone at my flat one night and broke in and…?”

She coughed out a wracking sob and buried her face in her hands. James nearly began crying at the sight of her distress. “How dare my mum give out my address like that? I never thought she’d do something like that. My mum called to wish me a happy birthday and I told her a little bit about why you and I were fighting, and she told me she was the one who gave Jimmy my address. I got so angry with her, and she was gettin’ angry with me. I’ve spent the day crying ‘cos I was fighting with my two favorite people.”

James tossed the letter onto the table and wrapped his arms around Rose, holding her tightly to his chest. He had never been angrier with another person than he was right now with Jackie Tyler. Well. Jackie Tyler and Jimmy bloody Stone. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Rose. I’m sorry.”

“Joke’s on Mum, though; Jimmy didn’t send a single quid with that letter.” Rose sniffled and scrubbed her hands across her eyes. “I hate this. I wish I’d blocked Jimmy from the start, I wish I’d told you when he texted, I wish I’d told my mum not to talk to Jimmy. I wish I’d handled everything differently, and I wish I hadn’t gotten so upset with you last night. I’m sorry, James. I’m sorry for it all.”

James tightened his hold around her, burying his face into her neck while she wept into his. “You have every right to handle situations however you think is best. I should have had more faith and trust in you and in our relationship. I was unreasonable. But I forgive you, love. Of course I forgive you. I love you. I love you more than you can imagine, and I’m so sorry I doubted it last night.”

Rose began crying harder into his shoulder. Her breaths came out in harsh gasps as she managed to reply, “I love you too. I’m sorry for putting the doubt in your head… when you asked if I was breaking up with you and I said I didn’t know. God, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean it at all. I got scared too, same as you, and my brain sort of shut down because it couldn’t stop thinking of everything Jimmy had said or done in the past, and twisting it to look like what you were saying and doing. That’s something I need to work on because that’s insulting for me to imply that you’re anything like him, but I didn’t know what to do, so I pushed you out, and I’m so sorry.”

James merely held her tighter, his heart breaking at her agony, yet filling with more love for her than he’d ever felt before.

“You’re the strongest woman I know, Rose,” he murmured into her hair. “The strongest. You’ve overcome so much, and you’re working to make yourself the best version of yourself that you can be, and that’s so admirable. I am here to listen to anything you want to tell me, but I am okay with not knowing everything. I trust your judgement, and I know you’ll tell me what you want me to know.”

He continued speaking quietly, a combination of reassurances, affirmations, and words of love. She shed more tears than he’d ever seen her shed, and he shed just as many. He was exhausted and overwhelmed, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep for a very long time tangled with Rose.

When her tears finally dried, he pressed a lingering kiss to the side of her head before sitting back in his chair. He grabbed a tissue for himself and passed one to her; they noisily blew their noses and wiped their eyes.

“Well. Wasn’t that cathartic?” he said cheerfully, holding his hand out for her tissue to throw in the rubbish bin.

She chuckled. Though her eyes were red and puffy and her cheeks were splotchy, he didn’t think there was a more beautiful person in the world than her.

He washed his hands after throwing away their used tissues, then he grabbed a few more, just in case. His nose was still a bit runny, and he was sure Rose’s had to be too. He plopped into his chair with a groan.

“First fight,” he mused. “Can tick that one off the list, I suppose.”

“Was it everything you expected it to be?” she drawled, rolling her eyes.

“Admittedly it was a lot more painful than I thought,” he said. “But now we can go back to how we were, right?”

Rose paused. In the silence, his heart sank into his stomach.

“I don’t know if we should,” she said carefully, and his lungs were suddenly out of air. Her eyes widened. “No, not like you’re thinking. It’s just… everything we fought about, everything we talked about, it changed us. It changed our relationship. Not in a bad way, but it’s different now. We’re more aware of some things that we weren’t before. I don’t want to go backwards with you. I want us to go forward. Together.”

James nodded, shoulders slumping in relief. He slid his hand across the table, slipping it beneath Rose’s so her palm rested against the back of his hand. He splayed his fingers, letting hers fall between the gaps. She curled her fingers around his hand.

“You’re right,” he said, caressing his thumb along the side of her pinkie. “Absolutely, you’re right. Guess this means the honeymoon period is over?”

“Probably.” She flashed him a cheeky grin. “Hopefully we’re not over the horny hump though.”

“You’re never gonna let me forget that I said that, are you?” he whined, grimacing.

“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’ as he often did. “It was such a dorky thing to call it.”

He pouted. “You never complained about my dorkiness before.”

“I love your dorkiness. Doesn’t mean I won’t tease you about it though.” Her smile slipped until her face turned solemn. “I’m really glad we talked this out, James.”

He squeezed her fingers. “Me too.”

“Any time Jimmy and I had an argument, we never did this. We’d shout at each other, curse at each other, and then ignore each other and not speak for a day or so. Then we’d have angry make up sex and pretend everything was fine in the morning. I don’t want to ever do that again. I want to communicate with you and to compromise with you, then grow with you.

“Staying in love is a choice, and it takes work. It shouldn’t be hard, but it’s not easy either. We need to choose to stay in love, decide that our relationship is worth making an effort for. I want to wake up every day and choose you, to choose us, and I want to put in the work because I wanna enjoy the payoff. Because being in love with you, James… it’s the best I’ve ever felt. You make me feel like I can do anything, like pass a stupid chemistry class or tell my stupid ex-boyfriend to fuck off. I love the way you make me feel. I love feeling like I’m home whenever I’m with you. And though this home we’re building with each other might have a leaky roof every now and then, I wanna fix it with you.”

James’s eyes were burning again. How was anything even left in his tear ducts? “Oh, Rose. You make me feel the same way. And I feel so inadequate because you just waxed romantic poetry at me, but my brain has stopped working. But please know I love you with every cell in my body, and I want to keep loving you with every cell, all the way down to each little organelle contained within, every day for the rest of our long and beautiful life together.”

Rose grinned at him and leaned over to press a light kiss to his lips. They tingled at the contact, and he wanted to pull her close to kiss her again.

“You’re such a science geek,” she said.

“Well. I’ve already shown you I’m rather fabulous with many types of chemistry and anatomy,” he drawled, flashing her an over-the-top wink as he clicked his tongue lewdly.

She burst into a fit of laughter that he echoed, feeling at peace for the first time in twenty-four hours. The exhaustion of all those hours suddenly overwhelmed him. His laughter morphed into a yawn, which spread to Rose.

“I’m knackered,” he announced unnecessarily. “Will you come to bed with me? My bedroom’s a disaster, but the guest bed is made.”

Rose nodded and stood up from the kitchen table. She took their bowl to the sink and rinsed it out before leaving it there for them to clean properly in the morning. She then flicked off the light on top of the stove before she followed him through the rest of the house, locking up and turning lights off as they went.

“Can I see what you’ve done to your room?” Rose asked.

“Sure,” he said, continuing down the hall rather than peeling off into the guest room. When he got to his closed door, he warned, “It’s a mess.”

They were hit with the stench of paint fumes as soon as he opened the bedroom door. He flicked on the light, and the room was bathed in the yellow glow of his lamps.

“Love the color,” Rose said.

“Yeah?” he asked, pleased with himself that, even in his miserable, depressive state of trying to not think about Rose, he had managed to pick a color she would like.

“Mhm.”

“I have to put on the second coat. I’ll probably do that tomorrow—I’m not really feeling like going to my classes, so I’ll probably ditch ‘em again.”

“You rebel,” she teased. “If you want some help, I don’t have anything important going on tomorrow. And I don’t work this weekend. We can take a few days to finish up the painting and reorganize your furniture.”

James smiled. “I’d like that.”

“It’s a date.” She wrapped her arm around his waist and tucked her face against his shoulder. “Besides, it’ll go faster with two.”

Leaning down, James brushed a kiss to her crown then rested his cheek in her hair. “Faster with two. Better with two.” He gave her waist a tight squeeze as he kissed her again. “Better with you.”

[permanentcrossfics]

Blurred Lines Part 2 // h.s.

“Hello?” He nearly dropped his phone in his haste and he nicked his knuckle with his fingernail. “Fuck— hello?”

“Harry?” You sounded as perplexed as he did— like you weren’t the one calling him at this ungodly hour. “Why are you awake?”

“Wasn’t.” He cleared his throat. “Woke me up. S’everything….” Suddenly, he didn’t want to ask. If everything was ok, why would you be calling? “Y’doing all right?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I’m doing… I’m coming to London.”

Harry turned his light on and winced from the yellow glow. “Are you really?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t joke with how much the hotel cost.” You gulped audibly and laughed. “I was kind of… my flight gets in pretty late and… if you can’t, I get it. I know the paps would go nuts but I’m—“

“They don’t let them inside Heathrow like they do other places,” he said. “When do you get in?”

“Tomorrow.”

Later than I wanted, but longer, as well -- happy reading x

Part I on Patreon // Tumblr // Wattpad

Read now on Patreon // Tumblr // Wattpad

It was two in the morning when his phone rang and rattled on his nightstand. At first, Harry burrowed into his pillow in an effort to ignore it, but after peeking at his clock and taking in the time, he forced himself to sit up. If someone was calling him this late, it could’ve been important. When he flipped it over and squinted at the screen, though, his heart skipped a beat and he scrambled to sit up while fumbling to hit accept.

“Hello?” He nearly dropped his phone in his haste and he nicked his knuckle with his fingernail. “Fuck— hello?”

“Harry?” You sounded as perplexed as he did— like you weren’t the one calling him at this ungodly hour. “Why are you awake?”

“Wasn’t.” He cleared his throat. “Woke me up. S’everything….” Suddenly, he didn’t want to ask. If everything was ok, why would you be calling? “Y’doing all right?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I’m doing… I’m coming to London.”

Harry turned his light on and winced from the yellow glow. “Are you really?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t joke with how much the hotel cost.” You gulped audibly and laughed. “I was kind of… my flight gets in pretty late and… if you can’t, I get it. I know the paps would go nuts but I’m—“

“They don’t let them inside Heathrow like they do other places,” he said. “When do you get in?”

“Tomorrow.”

That was how he wound up at Heathrow just shy of midnight circling through the airport until he saw you standing by a curbside, luggage in tow, and he nearly jumped out of his skin as he pulled over. He got out of the car and you drew yourself up to your full height with a feeble smile, eyes wide and circled from the transatlantic journey.

“Hi.”

“Hi….”

Your embrace was crushing and he returned it in kind while smashing a quick kiss to cheek. Far from romantic with smog, whizzing traffic, and straggling passengers, but all you could afford right then, and he practically swatted your fingers off the handle of your luggage before to haul it to his boot.

“Did you pack your whole flat in here?” He huffed, dropping it in, and he shut the back and ushered you into the car before following suit on the driver’s side. “Reckon we’ll head to mine?” he asked while struggling with his seatbelt.

“Sure.”

Click.

“Right.” He glanced in the rearview mirror. “Let’s go.”

It was all but pitch black on his road, for which he’d never been more grateful. Only his whispered swears and your muted laughter broke through it as he lugged your suitcase up to his door and he unlocked it to let you inside first. He’d left the light on when he went to get you, and he was glad for it, otherwise he’d have broken half his living room getting your bag inside.

“Show you around, if you want,” he said. “You can take your shoes off, and like….”

You stood next to him, eyes wide and looking at the highest corners of the ceiling and the lowest ones on the floor.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he finished. “Got some… I dunno if you’re hungry, but I picked up some stuff.”

“Yeah,” you said at last. “Sure. It’s dinner time for me.”

Harry nodded and rubbed the back of his neck before jerking his head. “Kitchen’s this way.”

He was glad to have something to busy his hands with, even if he felt like more of a clumsy ass than usual from your proximity. Having you in his house was… surreal. For as long as you two had been a part of whatever this was, it’d always been on your turf, or in a hotel room, and always when he had a reason to be there. Now….

“So, what’d you come here for?”

“Hmm?”

He looked over his shoulder from where he was dishing cold takeaway onto a plate to pop in the microwave. You were at his kitchen table, and for a moment, he was knocked breathless. It was like he was looking at you as he should’ve looked at you every day before this and how he should look at you for long after — seeing how his past should’ve looked and what the future….

Christ, knock that off.

“Why’re you in London?”

Work, holiday, an Eat, Pray, Love journey…..

You took a deep breath, shoulders rising practically up to your ears, and it was four and a half whole seconds before you shrugged and exhaled. “I don’t know.”

“Not work?”

“Nope.”

“Meeting your friends?”

“I didn’t tell them,” you said. “They’d want to come.”

You looked at each other, but despite his best efforts to get you to crack, you blinked owlishly, impervious to whatever bit of intimidation he could muster up.

The microwave beeped and you turned away when he shuffled towards it. After delivering the steaming plate in front of you, he sat down with a glass of water.

“You going to watch me eat?” You fumbled with the fork and knife he’d given you, and if he didn’t know better, he’d say you were nervous.

“Not really,” he said. “Just keep you company, unless you want me to bugger off.”

You shrugged and he laughed, the tension momentarily broken. “It’s good,” you said after taking your first bite.

“It’s shit,” he said, “but it always tastes good after a long day.”

You chuckled around your next bite and shook your head. Gradually, you slowed down, and you couldn’t have made a dent in a quarter of the plate when you sat back.

“Think the travel’s catching up with me,” you said.

“Did you sleep?” he asked and you shook your head.

“It was the middle of the day,” you said.

“Show you to your room, then.” He waved your hand away from your plate when he stood. “I’ve got it.”

“You’re a better host than you are guest,” you say as he clears things away. “Cleaning up instead of demanding I feed you.”

He chuckled but his cheeks were warm. “Know you don’t have to,” he says. “I’m just having a go when I do that.”

“I know.”

After drying his hands, he nodded towards the living room. “Let’s get your bag.”

In the process of pulling your suitcase through his house, he pointed out rooms and areas. “There’s not much to it,” he said, huffing on his way up the steps. “Pretty basic.”

“It’s nice,” you said. “Definitely feels like your place.”

“Yeah?”

He dropped your suitcase at the top of the steps and doubled over, catching himself on it.

“I can carry it,” you said but he shook his head.

“You’re a guest,” he said. “Was just the stairs, they tripped me up.”

He rolled your suitcase down the hall and came to a stop in front of an open door. “Figured you could sleep here.”

You peered into the spacious, tidy room. A guitar case was in the corner, because despite his best efforts his stuff wound up a little all over the place.

“It’s nice,” you said. “Where’s your room?”

Harry swallowed and tipped his head to a door that was slightly ajar. “Just… there.”

You nodded slowly and glanced at it before looking back at him.

“Do….” He felt like such a fucking teenager tripping over his tied tongue — like he’d never had anyone in his house before. “Do you wanna see?”

You nodded immediately and he cleared his throat before stepping over and pushing the door the rest of the way open. He walked in, grateful he’d had the right mind to change his sheets that morning and that he’d picked up his gym clothes. Just like you had downstairs, your eyes bounced to every corner of the room. Worse, way worse, than the first time he’d ever had someone over growing up.

“I like it,” you said. “It’s kinda like what I thought it’d be like.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, and both of you stood there, an arm’s length away apart. You blinked slowly and he swore the corners of your mouth were turning up some, and he swallowed before clearing his throat. The suggestion of letting you get some sleep died on his tongue, however, and he bit his lip before closing the distance. Waited long enough to get a kiss, hadn’t he?

Swaying, he held you close by the waist, and your hands clapped on his shoulders before you slid them around his back. It wasn’t particularly deep, or aggressive, but it was the sort of kiss that never seemed to end despite efforts from both of you to break it gently.

“You gonna make me sleep in there?”

Adrenaline burst through him when you pushed your fingers into his hair.

“You gonna stay in a hotel instead of with me?”

Your breath tickled his top lip when you shook your head. “Kinda figured you’d offer, but I didn’t want to presume.”

Harry laughed quietly and, with Herculean strength that he hoped to God would pay off later, he broke.

“S’like—“ You kissed him and he groaned. “M’gonna have to… I’ve got meetings and stuff….”

“We can go to bed,” you said. “If that’s what you’re trying to tell me.”

“No, I mean, I don’t— mmph— S’just….”

“I’ll unpack,” you mumbled. “And get changed.”

His mouth moved uselessly and his hands hung suspended for a moment before slowly falling back to his side as you backed up, smiling coyly before turning to go back across the hall. He teetered forward and leaned on his doorway, watching you undress without shame. You, in turn, took your time rolling your jeans off and strolling in your bra and knickers to put things away. When you glanced at him, he lifted his chin and smirked, and you returned it after the slightest of breaths that gave you away — his stomach wasn’t the only one with a butterfly.

When you popped the clasp of your bra open, he swallowed, but kept his eyes on you as you approached him with a pajama shirt in hand.

“I need to brush my teeth.”

You knew exactly how hard it was for him — in a few senses — to have you so close after so long and not try to tell you, verbally, how much he wanted to touch you, and you were apparently enjoying it.

“This way,” he said, stepping back to lead you to the toilet.

He, however, was at a loss. You’d decided on a quick shower, and he’d left you to finish that and anything else you had to do. He’d paced for a bit before getting into bed, then out, then in again, book open and glasses off, which meant he was holding his latest choice at arm’s length and still squinting. Uselessly, might he add, because he wasn’t retaining any of the words and would have to start this chapter over again.

He spent fifteen minutes wondering if you’d return to the bed across the hall or join him, and when he heard your footsteps, his heart raced faster than a gun-shy horse. The book nearly flipped out of his hands when you walked in, and he chanced a glance at you only to find you avoiding him when you slipped into bed and curled up, back to him.

“G’night…” he mumbled after a minute and you nodded against the pillow. Cracking a smile, he closed his book quietly and leaned over to turn off the light. Right, well… as long as you were jittery, too….

***

Harry woke up before you the next morning, and upon waking, he stared with bleary-eyed confusion at your head in his pillows as his brain pulled together the jigsaw of the past two days. Still groggy, he got out of bed and gathered a fresh pair of gym clothes before creeping out so as not to disturb you.

He needed the workout. He needed a minute to clear his head and focus on something else besides his unanswered questions. What you were doing here and for how long he still didn’t know, and he didn’t know if he was allowed to ask — more so, he didn’t know if asking made him sound like a self-important dick.

You were still asleep when he crept back in, and he tiptoed through the house to the shower. He’d only just washed his hair, but he squeezed a little shampoo out for a quick scrub just for good measure. When he was done and dried off, he wrapped a towel around his waist and stealthily slid back to his room, but when he got there, the bed was empty and you were stood in front of his dresser inspecting the bottles of cologne on top of it.

His mouth twitched, and for a moment, he just watched you creeping around his room, amongst his things, nosing about with your own curiosity. Hotel rooms with whatever he’d managed to throw into a bag and your flat… that was about as far as your world together ballooned out. Now, your world had reached London, and you were turning bottles around on his dresser to see things he’d chosen ages ago.

“Hey.”

Gasping, you turned on the spot, and he chuckled.

“D’I scare you?”

“I didn’t know you were back,” you said. “Thought you’d gone out for the day.”

“Gym,” he said. “Meetings later and I’ll be in studio until late.”

“Still?”

You stepped back when he approached and he took the chance to open a drawer.

“Just making sure everything’s right,” he said. “It’s a good space for it — no distractions.”

He pulled out an old grey t-shirt and a pair of black briefs.

“Do you get distracted a lot?”

Heating up, Harry turned, clearing his throat. “Not usually, no….”

Out of the corner of his eye, you smiled the type of smile that made him itch to grab your chin and he shook his head.

“So, do you have your plan?” he asked. “Sightseeing? I can recommend—”

He jumped when your fingers grazed his waist just above the towel, and when he lifted his head to look at you, you leaned in for a kiss. Unlike the flurry of kisses last night, there was a hunger behind this one with a desperate edge that had his hand going to your hips, briefs and t-shirt clutched in it and all. You stretched, pulling your body taut against his, and both hands found purchase on his shoulders to hold you there.

“Picking up where we left off, then?” Harry mumbled nearly incoherently against your mouth.

You kissed him one, two, three times more. “Did you miss me?” you asked.

“What kind of question’s that?”

Pressure bore down on both his shoulders. Harry grunted when he toppled after you onto the bed, and he braced himself above you at the last moment to keep from crushing you, wincing when he came down hard on his wrist. Harry peered down the end of his nose at you and your smile widened into a grin before you repeated your question.

“Did you miss me?”

“Did you miss me?” he countered. You tightened your knees around his hips and his pelvis dropped to yours. “Missed somethin’, didn’t you? Enough to book a ticket around the world?”

The tight tuck of his towel around his waist released, and seconds later his eyes rolled up when you raked your fingertips down his ass. There was a rush of cold air when, with gentle kicks and tugs, the fluffy material fell off entirely. Groaning, Harry buried his face in your neck, grinding down slightly and taking deep, long breaths. You smelled like….

“Did you—?”

Warm, spicy, and like that bottle with the gold cap on top of his dresser. Exhaling hotly, he rubbed his cheek and chin against you and he rubbed harder when you squirmed. You smelled like him, and he hadn’t even touched you yet.  

“Harry—!”

Crack.

You squeaked when he slapped your outer thigh, and you went completely still before shuddering and slowly digging your fingers into his ass. Face still in your neck, he hiked your t-shirt up until your stomach was bare against his and he could cup your breast.

“Gonna give me more than an hour this time, aren’t you?”

He needed more than an hour. He’d take an hour, any hour, but God help him he needed so much more of you, with you.

“Yes…” you whispered, and he planted a hard kiss on your pulsepoint before slowly easing down your body. His teeth scraped your sternum and you sucked in a sharp breath but he continued down your body, occasionally pulling a patch of skin into his mouth and biting down.

He pressed his nose into your cunt over your underwear and uttered a quiet, “Fuck,” when he felt how wet you were. Your sex was intoxicating — better than any high he’d ever had — and he kssed you through the plain cotton. “M’gonna do this, alright?”

Your, “Uh huh…!” was pitchy and breathless and he laughed once before pulling your elastic waistband. Shamelessly, he pulled his hands down your legs while simultaneously pulling off your underwear, and he caught your ankle with one hand and kissed the inside before settling back where he was. Your legs butterflied open and he closed his teeth over the juncture of your thigh. You cried out low in your throat and he rubbed circles over the tender skin before settling his mouth over your cunt and drawing his tongue through your folds. The sound you made could’ve been qualified as ugly — harsh, sucking, wet — but he moaned quietly and pressed closer, fueled by it.

“O’my God,” he mumbled into you, frowning with his concentration. “Taste so….”

You dug your fingers in his hair and he fit his mouth tighter against you, glad that this time he wouldn’t have to stuff piece after piece of gum into his mouth to curb his oral fixation while waiting to see you. Under his hands, your thighs were getting sweaty, and his grip slipped now and then before he adjusted by grasping you, hard and unforgiving, and it was then you let out a strangled cry. Smooth and slick, it was like you kept getting wetter and wetter. How was he supposed to stop when you kept giving him more?

“C’mere,” he said just before latching onto your clit, and it was then you started rolling repeatedly against his mouth. You cried out, and if he hadn’t been holding your hips, you would’ve rolled over on the bed, and he closed his eyes, suckling intently and flicking his tongue. Above him, you panted wetly, fingers alternating between gripping his hair, the sheets, and the pillow just above your head. He slowed, then, easing up by licking slowly instead of with quick strokes, and when he pulled back, you whined, pawing at his cheek and fingers scraping his stubble.

“Can’t give it t’you that easy, can I?” he asked, licking his lips before biting into his lower one. “Shit,” he whispered, dropping his mouth again. This time when your hips rolled, he shook his head to burrow closer and you cried out in a way that had his hair standing on end, vision blurring when he sucked hard and your legs shook around his head. It was when you let out a noise like a sucking gasp that he knew you’d cum, and he let go to suck your thigh instead as you jerked beneath him, wheezing, and he pressed his nose into your sweaty skin, eyes closed and breathing deeply.

“I need you.” Soft, keening, and run together. “I need you, please! Harry, please!”

He positively scrambled to stretch above you, and he wiped the last of you from around his mouth and sucked it quickly off his thumb before smashing his lips against yours. You clawed at his back and he groaned, reaching between you to guide his cock down your slit until his head slipped in, and your mouth opened with a gasp under his when he pushed the rest of the way in without ceremony and adjusted before falling into a rough, jerky rhythm.

Pulling back, he managed to utter, “Oh, fuck!” under his breath before burying his face in your neck and driving into you in earnest. Each thrust brought a new, choked gasp from you, and your fingers were so far into his shoulder blades they had to be embedded by that point, but all you seemed to do was drag him closer until your limbs made a basket around him and your breath fell hot and fast on his neck.

“Did you do this for me?” he mumbled against your skin. “Did you come for me?”

The noise you made was tight and muted, and he shuddered to a standstill when your cunt pulsed around him.

“Shit!” he whispered, face screwed up. “God, y’make me so fucking c-crazy!”

You laughed breathlessly, legs tightening around his waist, and he gulped.

“Really did fucking miss you,” he said, suppressing another shudder, because he refused to let it be over already just because he couldn’t keep a lid on it.

“I missed you… missed you, too— oh!”

He thrust so hard you both slid marginally up the bed, and he grit his teeth before thrusting again and again. He couldn’t have made it much more than that before his body betrayed him with a full shake from head to toe and his balls twitched as he emptied into you.

“Fuck, m’so…!” Whatever the rest he might have been able to muster up dissolved into a groan and shook for what felt like forever before he dropped his weight on you and squeezed you close. “Fuck!” he repeated, torn between ecstasy and anger with himself. You pressed breathless kisses under his ear repeatedly and when he could bear to, he picked his head up and dropped a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Wasn’t good,” he mumbled. “”L’make it better next time, darling… promise….”

“It was good.” You were dazed, and your eyes were closed, face damp and smile pulling your lips. “It was so….” You shifted beneath him, leg hitching higher, and sighed. “I don’t want you to leave me….”

Harry closed his eyes and exhaled slowly through his nose. Whether you meant for his meeting, your body in this moment, or for all time, he couldn’t say, but all three destroyed him. Cupping your cheek, he kissed you again, and you rolled with him when he relieved you of his weight.

“My girl,” he mumbled under his breath between kisses. “Be as fast as I can, I promise.” He groaned regretfully, squeezing your cheek. “Wish you’d told me you were coming. Would’ve… could’ve tried—“

You shook your head, rubbing your foot against his knee.

“It’s ok,” you said. “Didn’t want you to change things around just for me.”

“Should’ve.” He picked his head up and squinted at the clock on the bedside table behind you before dropping onto his pillow again. “Have to take another shower,” he said.

“Don’t.” You bumped his nose with yours and he laughed under his breath.

“No?” he said and you shook your head.

“No.”

When he did manage to untangle himself from you, he did as you asked and sprayed his cologne on top of whatever had rubbed off from your skin onto his. “M’gonna smell like—“

“I know.” Smiling with self-satisfaction, you slid towards the edge of the bed, and when you reached him, you kissed him, arms around his neck. Kisses were stolen all the way out of his bedroom, down the steps, and to his front door, even when he struggled to shove his keys in his pocket.

“See you later,” he said. “Do something fun, like….”

“I will.” You kissed him several times and finished with two on his neck, taking a deep breath when you did. “Have a good day,” you sighed into his skin and he swallowed hard.

“Gonna take you out tomorrow,” he said. “F’you don’t mind.”

“Ok,” you said, pushing his chest. “Now go.”

***

That was how every day went for the next four days. He kept the meetings he needed to, and when he didn’t take you out for dinner or lunch, he brought it in and you two sat on his sofa sharing containers with the television humming below conversation.

And the sex blew his mind — he’d never had sex like this before. He’d never had sex this deep or intense. It was the type of sex that compelled him to slow down mid-thrust and hold himself there until you were both trembling, and only when you let out a weak cry of his name in the back of your throat that bordered on a sob did he give in again. It was spontaneous, and fun, and with no end in sight to your trip, there was no pressure to fit as much of it in as quickly as possible. It was different, somehow, when it stemmed from hanging out together. He could take his time with you to be with you without the sand slipping through the hourglass in front of his eyes.

It was like a glimpse of what the uninterrupted flow of life with you could be like. If things ever calmed down, and timing was right, and you both weren’t separated by careers and the globe, you could be at home with each other, saying everything he hid with muted kisses in the crooks of your knees and elbows. He could look forward to this life — hell, he might even be able to get used to standing in his kitchen with a glass of wine off to the side, prepping veg for the meal you’d promised to make if he did the hard work.

“I should probably think about going home soon.”

Knife in hand, Harry’s grip nearly slipped on the carrot he was slicing, and he turned, heart pounding. You twirled the wine in your glass, but didn’t say anything more. Instead, you peered over the edge of your glass and waited in silence as if you were waiting on something from him. Should he say something? What could he?

No.

Don’t.

Why?

He almost opened his mouth, but his throat closed up and his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth before he could. Nodding, he turned back to his task, hyper focused and slicing slowly.

“F’you want,” he said at last. “Probably running out of time… you’ll need a day for the jet lag and all that….”

Behind him, you were quiet, and he tingled.

“I’m coming back, too, you know,” he said. “Still not sure when, but—”

“I know.”

Setting the knife down, he leaned on the countertop, head hanging and shoulders stiff.

“When did you decide?”

“It was a round trip ticket.”

Heat rose in him and he counted to ten. “Didn’t tell me that.”

“I didn’t know if it would be weird,” you said. “Being here, with you. I wanted to give us an out.”

“I would’ve called out of things if I knew—“

“I didn’t want you to,” you said. “I didn’t want you to change your life for me, I wanted to see….”

He took a deep breath.

This. You’d wanted to see this. What it was like to be with him every day, not what it was like when he made time for you during every day.  

Hardly believing he was saying it, he muttered, “Change it.”

“I can’t,” you said. “I booked it when you left New York.” What? “The fees’ll be outrageous now.”

“Yes, you can,” he said. “I’ll pay the fee or buy you a new one.”

“Harry—“

When he turned again, your glass was down and your hands were over your face, shoulders rising and falling with each deep breath.

“I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

It was so quiet, he could hear a pin drop next door. Crossing his arms, he swallowed convulsively before managing to get out, “F’thats what you want.”

Hands falling, you looked at him, mouth downturned. “Is it what you want?”

“No.” The single word cracked in the air and your eyes went alight.

“Then why are you saying yes?”

“Why did you suggest it?” he ground out. Lord knew he was doing his best to remain levelheaded, but he was a tiger in a crate that was growing smaller and smaller around him. “Shit,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Because! But you said yes.” You sounded so reproachful he almost had to laugh.

“Because I thought it’s what you—” His hands shook when he raked them through his hair. “Jesus, all right, I’m not ok with it. I’m not ok, and I’m not letting you do this. That’s it, that’s the end of it.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Why!” you exclaimed, hands in the air. “Why?”

“You fucking know why!” he said. “You know how I feel about you.”

“So you don’t have to say it,” you said, but bitter where it was usually sweet if amused.

“I love you,” he said. Clipped, cool, and unflinching. “S’that better? Cause I’ll say it — I don’t have a problem with that.”

For so long, he’d held back on those exact words, because he didn’t want to say them before he could stay. You didn’t deserve to have the weight of them resting on your conscience acting as some obligation to keep you faithful if someone else came around who could be there. But if you were going to force his hand and act like he couldn’t say them when every fucking time it was a struggle to stuff them back?

Hands on the back of your neck, you bowed your head.

“And you know I never wanted to say it like this,” he said, breathing heavily. You nodded, eyes still on the floor.

“We were never supposed to….”

Things were never supposed to get this messy, and deep, and real. A transatlantic booty call was always meant to be the extent of it, but somehow….

“Yeah, well.” Harry shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Think the lines got a little blurred a long time ago, didn’t they? Not much we can do about it now.” Bracing himself, he asked, “Do you really want—?”

You shook your head before he finished and his shoulders sagged, the tightness between them relaxing marginally.

“So then….” Harry licked his lips. “We’re doing this, aren’t we?” he asked. “Somehow?”

“How?” you asked, and he pushed away from the counter to pull you into his chest. Arms locked tightly around you, he rested his chin by your ear and you leaned against him, slowly winding your arms around his middle.

“Could start by calling,” he said at last. “And I won’t wait till I’m drunk for an excuse.”

You nuzzled his shoulder. “I’ll text first,” you said.

“And text back,” he said and you laughed, sniffling. “Thought I was bad,” he chuckled. “And I’ll take trips to see you… not for business….”

“Could stay with me,” you said.

He nodded. “I like that Mexican place.”

“El Diablito.”

Harry whistled. “Best taco I’ve had in awhile,” he said. “F’everything else didn’t make it worth it….”

When you pulled back, your eyes were wet and tear tracks stained your cheeks, and he wiped them as you took deep breaths. “I’m scared,” you admitted in a small voice.

“Yeah,” he said. “I know. But it’s not….” He swallowed. “It’s not different than what we did before, is it? Just not going to beat around the bush anymore.”

“And what happens when it gets too hard?” you asked.

“Then we’ll figure out where to go from there.” He shrugged. “We got this far,” he said. “Let’s just enjoy this for now.”

You licked your lips. “I’m sorry I made you say how you feel about me.”

He snorted. “Yeah, well….” Harry kissed your forehead. “You knew it, anyway.”

“I did.” You wrapped your arms around his middle and buried your face in his neck. “Me too.”

Hand on the back of your head, he held you for the longest time, and he only released when you took over his sous chef responsibilities. Hovering was a kind word to describe how he lingered while you cooked, and when you were finished, you couldn’t have cleared more than half a plate each before cleaning up and retreating to his bedroom.

“Have you thought anymore about the makeup?” you asked, legs tangled with his and upper body fit just so against his chest.

“What about it?” he asked.

“Thought about adopting it?”

Harry chuckled long and low. “Have to fly to you every time I want it taken off,” he said. “Is that your plan?”

“Is it a bad one?”

He could hear your smile and he squeezed you. “No. Except for the heart attack I’ll give half the terminal walking through after my go at taking it off.”

Body shaking with silent laughter, you sat up and twisted against him to lean in for a kiss. “Wasn’t so bad,” you murmured. “You tried very… very… hard….”

“I did.” Harry slid his hands around your backside when you crawled up on top of him. “Tried really hard, love.”

Humming, you sat up, straddling his hips, and lifted your jumper and camisole over your head. Every damn time a lump rose in his throat that he had to swallow like a schoolboy who’d never seen a pair of tits before, but he suspected you liked it that way. “Can we…?”

“What?” Harry croaked and you huffed. “Shy on me?”

Hands braced on his chest, you rocked against him and whispered, “I want to be on my hands and knees.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before saying, “Well, all right. Can get us there, can’t we?”

You made a noise when he squeezed your hips  and pushed gently, but you followed his lead and stretched on your back to get out of your joggers as he fumbled with the string on his. He cupped himself and swallowed convulsively, the ache already there, and when you sighed, he looked at you through barely open eyes.

“Can I?”

He was pretty sure he sputtered, but that was all the answer you needed to roll towards him and onto your elbows. Biting your lip, you tugged the elastic over his hips, and he lifted away from the bed for you to pull them down his thighs. His cock fell on his thigh, semi-hard, and he was about to ask you to please when you opened your mouth and enveloped just the tip of him between your soft lips.

“Fuck!”

Smiling close-lipped, you looked at him from under your lashes and he let out a rattling breath, placing his hand on the back of your head. You bobbed and he ground his teeth, thighs trembling under your touch. “Jesus, you’re….” He trailed off with a guttural groan, your wet licks so gentle he had the urge to thrust up just to feel more of your mouth. “When was the last time I had you on me like this?”

You sucked with slightly more pressure and his neck strained when you pulsed and lowered down slightly more, stroking the underside of his head with your tongue. Harry dropped his other hand over his eyes, and it wasn’t until you popped off that he dared to look again. Breath tickling his cock, you looked at him with wide eyes and slick, full lips, and he nodded.

“Up you go, then,” he breathed. “Go on.”

Arms shaking so much even he could see it, you sat up and arched your back, ass high. Harry kicked his joggers the rest of the way down his legs before getting on his knees and bracing himself with your hips. Your shoulders heaved with each deep breath, and for a moment, he just stared at your naked back, admiring every curve, dimple, and indent. Both his hands moved to your ass, one hand on each cheek over your knickers, and he pressed down, kneading, and your quiet moan made the hair on his arms stand on end.

CRACK.

“Oh!”

You pushed back against him after his hand landed hard, and his lip curled when he dropped his cock on your ass. Holding it by the base, he tapped it against you, and you whimpered, rocking slightly.

“Been taking my time with you so far,” he said, “so I’ll take my time now, too, darling.” He slapped you again and you shuddered, whining when he rutted on your ass. “Cum would look pretty right here, wouldn’t it?”

“Harry— ah!”

“Said you wanted to be on your hands and knees,” he reminded you. “Y’didn’t say—“

“Get inside me!” you cried and he tutted.

“Slow, darling, remember?” But Harry was already pulling your knickers down your legs, drawing his fingernails over your skin. You jumped when he scratched and he chuckled, bending to kiss each cheek. “You’re ok,” he mumbled against them. “You’re— mmm,” he kissed you again and kneaded deeply. “You're ok, love. C’mere….”

He could see how wet you were, but like an idiot who couldn’t believe the purple ring of fire on the stove was actually hot, he dipped his fingers just inside you. “Shit,” he breathed. You were drenched — soaked and so open for him he could fit a third finger in if he had the mind to try. You whined, low and keening, and he pulled out to grasp his cock and guide it in. “Oh, shit!” he gasped, slowly sinking in until he was up to his balls. He stayed still, mouth hanging uselessly, and it was only when you bore down on him that he groaned in his throat and began to move.

His thrusts were soft and shallow at first, but with each quiet collision of his pelvis to your ass and every moan of yours that followed, he drove with more force.

“Oh, please,” you sighed, lowering onto your elbows and pressing your face into the mattress. “Oh…!” You moaned long and low and he clenched his teeth, his grip on your hips tightening to match how tight your cunt felt around his cock. He remembered the first time he ever got you to make a sound like that and how fucking proud he’d been. Even now a smile struggled to pull his lips. Felt good? Good. Let him fucking know it.

His thighs shook when he came to a stop, just the tip of him inside you, and when he didn’t move, you whined and squirmed until he popped out.

“What are you—?”

“Gotta get me in yourself,” he panted. “F’you want it.”

“Why?” You scrambled back to all fours, elbows buckling, and you reached behind to grab him.

“Wanna see it, don’t I?” Harry panted, groaning when you managed to just get his head inside far enough to slide back on the rest of him. “Oh, there it is… knew you could do it….”

Every time you pushed onto him, you let out a quiet, wordless exclamation that got increasingly frantic to match your pace until you stopped short. Upper body shuddering, your head bowed towards the bed. “H-Harry, please,” you choked. “I can’t… I need, I—“

Harry slipped his fingers in his mouth quickly before reaching around front, and your babbling ended when he circled your clit. Turning your mouth into your upper arm, you muffled your moans and rolled against his hand.

“I’ve got you,” he mumbled. “Don’t worry, I’ve got… I’ve got you….” Harry bared his teeth when your cunt contracted around him with several strong pulses and he squeezed your ass with his other hand when you let out a long, low moan. “Always got you,” he said. “Always gonna take good care— there it— you’ve got it, you’ve got… fuck, y’tight!”

Bearing down on you, he held his breath and thrust deep, pelvis smacking your ass each time. Almost… Jesus, almost….

He squeezed you so tightly he swore his knuckles popped, and he jerked uncontrollably, balls tight and eyes screwed shut as he sputtered through his teeth. Streams of swears followed and he pushed up against you, driven by the instinct to get as close as possible, but it was a lot — so much so even he was thrown, and when he forced himself to pull out, a long, thick rope began its slow descent down the inside of your thigh.

“Holy shit.” Gulping, he bent and kissed each cheek again, limbs going limp when he laid on the bed. You followed suit, panting and wheezing on your stomach, and he smashed his face into the soft curve of your hip, feet dangling off the bed. “Shit,” he repeated. “Been w-waiting for that.”

You made a noise that sounded somewhat reminiscent of a laugh and patted his head.

“Me too,” you gasped.

***

Goodbye was harder now, if that was possible. Maybe because he’d tricked himself into believing it wouldn’t end, but sure enough, the day had come. Your suitcase was packed and in his boot, and your hand was on his leg with both of his on the wheel.

Conversation was all but nonexistent, for one reason or another. He’d asked to take you to breakfast, but you’d simply shaken your head, and he suspected you wanted to avoid a sullen, drawn out goodbye.

He parked in the lot, and you didn’t ask why, and he got your suitcase and rolled it behind him, walking in step with you, the almost sterile smell of the airport nauseating as you both walked in. “I’ll wait for you to check in,” he said, passing your off to you. You nodded and joined the BA queue, and he stood off to the side.

Waiting was the worst — he’d like to see anyone else try to not be conspicuous without also looking like a criminal. He refused to cower in his car, though, and when at last you returned, empty handed, he straightened up.

“That all?” he asked. You nodded, mouth set in a straight line, and he tapped your chin with his thumb. “You’re going home!” he said quietly and with a smile. “That’s a good thing.”

You stepped in and wrapped both arms around his shoulders, and he closed his eyes, tucking his face in your neck and squeezing you close.

“M’comin’ back as fast as I can,” he mumbled. “I promise. And I won’t stay outta your hair this time.”

You nodded against his shoulder.

“Don’t cry on me now,” he warned you, trying to laugh but it sounded more like a feeble goat bleating to his ears. “Can’t have that. Never cried when I left before.”

“Different,” you said thickly and he swallowed through his tight throat.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said. “And you can always come back. London’s not so bad, is it?”

Sighing, you pulled back and kissed him — firmly and like you were trying to say something without committing to the words out loud.

“Ok,” you murmured against his mouth, breath tickling him. “I should go.”

“Yeah,” he said. No. “I’ll see you. Soon.”

You smiled wryly before taking a deep breath that lifted your shoulders.”I’ll let you know when I land.”

“Please.”

Eyes still teary despite his request, you waved once before striding away. He stared after you until he lost you in the crowd, and, with a heavy sigh, he turned.

He sat in his car, doors locked and phone in hand, watching the clock. By the time twenty minutes has passed, he figured you’d made it through security. Another five, and you’d probably found your gate, maybe a bite to eat. Tapping into his text thread with you, he held his tongue between his lips as he wrote.

Next month good?

[wilsonsnest]

[w&s] after closing

just came back from a trip with a six hour drive. i had never heard of stuckeys in my life being a northern gal. and then we passed a place called wilson’s general store and an au was born. 

so have some small town sambucky au compliments of riding through virgnia

pairing: sambucky (samsteve mentioned) word count: 2,331

Sam let out a soft sigh as he locked the doors to his store, smiling a little as Sarge slunk cautiously towards the door. The orange tabby always sat at the door and waited until Sam was in his car before disappearing back into the darkness of the store.

Sam saluted the night watch before turning around and heading out to the parking lot. Tomorrow he wouldn’t open until 10, which was nice. It meant he could sleep in a little bit before it was time to come in and open up with his scarily efficient morning staffer, Nebula.

He had taken over the general store nearly three years ago, from an older, battle-axe of a woman who had decided she was good and done. Sam had moved to Hopeway about six years ago now. After serving in the Air Force, losing a friend and almost himself in the process, he got out and started to try and piece his life back together. It led him here, the small lakeside town was just what he needed.

Convincing Ms. Adler that he could run the shop had been a bit of a struggle, and there had been many a time when he wished he hadn’t done it. But after a while he got himself together, a lot of it with help from the locals who Sam had truly began to see as family.

Speaking of locals.

Sam raised an eyebrow as he approached his car, seeing a tall figure leaning against the passenger side. If he wasn’t used to this happening, he would have freaked out, instead he just let out a whistle so as to not start the man.

Bucky’s head lifted, though his eyes were still shadowed by the green Stucky's ball cap he was wearing. Judging by his jeans, white shirt and green jacket, he was already off work. Odd, since the neighboring diner didn’t close until 2am.

“Well this is unexpected.” Sam raised an eyebrow as he unlocked the car. “Steve get tired of you messing up orders?”

“Nah, cashing in.” Bucky lifted his chin, his blue eyes bright, reflecting the street lamp light above them. He held up a paper bag. “I brought dinner.”

“Oh well, I guess I have to bring you home then.” Sam smiled, ignoring the bag to lean in and kiss the other man’s cheek. “C’mon, get in, it’s too cold to be standing around like this.”

“You’re the boss.” Bucky’s voice was warm as he opened the door and climbed inside.

Sam couldn’t help but feel warmth bubbling in his chest as he got in and started the engine. Being a shop owner meant long hours, and not a huge ton of extra time for socializing. He had become fast friend’s with Steve Rogers, the de-facto owner of Stucky's when he had moved here seven years ago. It had taken a little longer for him to mesh with Stucky's (reluctant) co-owner and cook, Bucky Barnes. Funnily enough, it had been Barnes that had given him the idea to just go ahead and name it Wilson’s General Store.

“It’s your’s isn’t it?” Bucky grumbled setting down a huge roast beef sandwich and a side of mixed vegetables with Sam knew were definitely not on the regular menu. “No time to get shy about it now, Wilson. I bet Stevie would love to design you a sign or something.”

Sam remembered that conversation for two reasons. One, he had actually decided to go ahead and rename the shop. And two, it was the exact moment he realized he had a crush on a surly army vet who was an excellent cook and hated being co-owner of the diner ostensibly half-named after him.

At least having a crush on Bucky was in good company with his massive crush on Steve.

Surprisingly enough, Bucky ended up asking him out. Sam had been content to let both of his crushes sit and put all his energy into running the store.

But apparently Bucky Barnes had other plans. They had been out late at Red/Hawk’s with Steve and a few others. Bucky was usually pretty quiet, but that night he had been particularly anxious. He’d been fiddling with his prosthetic hand the entire night, prompting Sam to ask if he were okay. He knew Bucky still had bad days where wearing the prosthetic was more burdensome than helpful.

“No, I mean - I’m Fine. I just..” Bucky stuttered his eyes flickering down to the bar-top. He fumbled around in his jacket pocket and pulled out a half-crushed box of cigarettes. “Y’wanna get some air?”

Sam didn’t smoke himself, but he nodded and followed Bucky out to the front of the bar. They wandered a little ways down to a grassy area nearby. Bucky clumsily took out a cigarette, nearly dropping the box. Sam knew something had to be up.

It had taken at least another fifteen minutes of awkward small talk before Bucky finally looked over, past Sam’s shoulder and asked him if he would like to go out sometime. “Like a Date date.” He had said.

They had gone on said Date date to some cute little restaurant the next town over. Bucky had been clearly uncomfortable being out of Hopeway and Sam had been worried about Bucky the entire time. The whole affair had been awfully tense until Sam invited Bucky back to his place. They curled up on the couch with ice cream from Sam’s freezer and watched the Twilight Zone until they fell asleep. It had been totally worth the fifty texts Steve had sent to them both when Bucky ended up late for opening the next morning.

Sam couldn’t help but smile at the memory, glancing at Bucky out of the corner of his eye. Bucky’s eyes were closed, head back against the headrest as Sam drove. He probably wasn’t asleep, but he didn’t have his prosthetic today and his willingness to take off early probably meant he was exhausted in more than just a physical sense.

Sam pulled up the dirt path of his driveway and placed a hand on Bucky’s knee. The other man blinked open his eyes, squinting over at Sam as they parked. Once the car was stopped, he leaned he over and drew Sam into a gentle kiss before pulling away with a sigh.

“Sorry.” He mumbled quietly.

“It’s been a long day.” Sam smiled warmly. “Just give me time to shower and I’m all yours.”

They got out of the car, Bucky carrying the food as Sam took out his keys. As soon as they entered, Sam’s fluffy, red-furred Somali Cat practically charged them, meowing enthusiastically all the while.

“Hey, Redwing.” Sam smiled brightly as he scooped the cat into his arms. He wiggled a bit, butting his head against Sam’s face, a purr beginning to rumble in his chest. “Yeah, I missed you too.”

“M’gonna go warm this up.” Bucky was already heading toward the kitchen as Sam lavished Redwing with more kisses and pets. “Go take a shower!” Bucky called, slightly muffled.

“Can you feed, Redwing?” Sam asked as he headed toward the kitchen. “I’ll shower quick.”

“Sure.” Bucky agreed as he began to go to work in Sam’s kitchen.

With that, Sam let Redwing down, watching amused as the red-haired cat immediately went to go and inspect Bucky. He hurried to the bathroom so that he could freshen up. The shower was an absolute godsend, and while he would have loved to luxuriate for a bit longer, he was aware of how much he was missing his boyfriend. He hadn’t yet convinced Bucky that couples showers were totally a thing they would enjoy.

After hastily drying off and changing into a t-shirt and sleep pants he found his way back into the kitchen. Bucky had dished out Sam’s meal of meatloaf and potatoes onto a plate and set it on his tiny two-person kitchen table.

Sam hummed, his stomach growling at the sight of the undoubtedly delicious food. But first, he went to his boyfriend, who was standing over a kettle making tea. He had taken his green jacket and baseball cap off and Sam could see his face clearly. His eyes had dark circles under them, and the messy ponytail meant he had been hasty when getting ready that morning.

Sam placed a hand on the small of Bucky’s back, leaning his cheek against his boyfriend’s right arm. The taller man looked over at him, a little surprised at first before his expression softened. He leaned over to give Sam a light peck.

“Go eat.” He reminded Sam, shrugging a little to get him to move.

Sam pouted for show before heading over to the table. Almost immediately he fell upon the meal with the ferocity of a starving man. Bucky’s food was delicious, even more so after a long day’s work. He had no idea how this man ended up being so darned good at cooking, but he praised the lord every day that he had gotten so lucky. He wasn’t sure he was going to survive when he introduced Bucky to his Mama. The two of them could probably put a meal together that would make even the most discerning food critics weep.

He barely looked up when Bucky set a mug of tea down for him. He only looked up when Bucky returned to the table with his own mug and sat down across from him. By then he was more than halfway through his dinner.

“You’ll make yourself sick, Sammy.” Bucky chided, though he was clearly pleased seeing Sam eat. “You been eating breakfast and lunch?”

Sam rolled his eyes, having to swallow his stuffed mouth before replying. “Yes, mom.” Bucky had nearly had a heart-attack the first morning he had woken up at Sam’s and found out that he never ate breakfast.  “I boiled eggs the night before. Protein. Are you proud of me?”

Bucky didn’t seem impressed, but nodded anyway. They sat in companionable silence while Sam finished eating, Bucky watching him fondly as Redwing wound between their legs under the table. Sam was amazed just how domestic they were, but he supposed dating for nearly two years would do that to you.

Finally, Sam pushed his plate away with a sigh, feeling full and satisfied. If he were somewhere comfortable, he was sue he would be asleep in a matter of minutes.

“Steve coming over tonight?” Sam asked with a yawn. He wanted to make sure they weren’t expecting anyone before they bundled up int he bedroom for the night.

“Nah.” Bucky said quietly, something flickering in his eyes before he looked down.

“Bad day?” Sam asked, leaning over to take Bucky’s hand. It was rare these days for one of them to come over without the other. After the initial awkwardness of both Steve and Bucky dating Sam at the same time, they fell into a rather comfortable rhythm. But there were days when they needed their own couple time.

“Just tired.” Bucky answered, squeezing Sam’s hand back. “Storm a few nights ago didn’t help.”

Sam nodded sympathetically. The change in air pressure had been hell on Sam’s back, and he’d had to sleep on his front from two days. Bucky tended to have the same issue with his shoulder.

“Let’s head to bed then.” Sam said quietly.

Together, they cleaned up the kitchen before turning out the lights. It was still a little early by their standards, but cuddling in the bed was more inviting than forcing themselves to stay up and watch television.

In the bedroom, Bucky immediately went to his drawer to change into a comfortable t-shirt and shorts. Sam crawled into bed, rearranging his pillows for Bucky’s side and then plugging in his phone to charge. Sam glanced over as Bucky climbed into bed on the other side, smiling already at how relaxed his boyfriend already looked. They both slept better with one another. Bucky slept over as much as he could, though when Steve was over, fitting the three of them in Sam’s bed was quite a challenge.

Discussing moving in was a difficult subject when he had only been dating Steve for a year. Not to mention, the two friends still lived and worked together. It was going to take a lot of talks and planning to even approach the subject of cohabitation.

“C’mere.” Bucky waved his hand toward Sam, indicating his chest. “Wanna hold you, Sammy.”

Sam ducked his head, his facing heating up before turning off the bedside lamp. He shuffled his way closer to Bucky, placing his head on the other man’s chest. Sam wasn’t a small man, but Bucky was broad and thick and made Sam feel exceptionally secure. He’d seen out-of-towners try to start shit and nothing had prepared them for two hundred plus pounds of muscled one-armed cook to come storming out of the kitchen.

“Sleep over on Saturday?” Sam asked quietly, one hand under Bucky’s shirt, stroking the soft skin of his stomach. “You can stay and keep Redwing company.”

He heard Bucky let out a long breath above him before answering. “That’d be nice.” A pause before asking. “Y’want Steve to come?”

“If he wants to.” Sam answered. Personally, he loved having both his boyfriends around, but tried to work within their boundaries as well. “We could go to the lake once I close up.”

Stucky’s was closed on Sunday and Wilson’s only stayed open until 2:30pm. Sunday was the town’s quietest day, even Red/Hawk’s was closed. Sunday was a time for family, and rest - something everyone here believed in fiercely. Sam could think of nothing better than spending it with his two favorite people.

“I like that.” Bucky mumbled before pressing his lips to Sam’s forehead. Sam smiled against Bucky’s chest, letting the gentle rise and fall lull him to sleep.

will be x-posted to ao3

[mizmahlia]

Drabble Challenge #85

Part 5/6 of the requests from my sis @nxttime​. Have some Dick and Tim bonding, my dear!

“I’m not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor.” (Prompts are here.)

Dick stumbled through his front door and slammed it behind him. He didn’t bother turning any of the lights on, instead heading straight toward his bedroom. His jacket and shirt hit the floor in the kitchen. His belt and jeans were discarded in the hallway outside the bathroom. He picked up the pair of sweatpants he’d left on his bedroom floor that morning and put them on, teetering dangerously on one leg before leaning against his dresser.

With one last burst of strength, he managed to pull a Bludhaven Police Department sweatshirt over his head and crawl into bed. He’d barely pulled the blankets up before he was asleep.

A few hours later Tim knocked on Dick’s door. He was there on a hunch; he and Dick were supposed to meet later to see a movie, but he hadn’t heard from Dick since they made the plans two days ago and that was strange. He knocked one more time and when there was no answer, he let himself in.  

The place was eerily quiet and dark. The only reason Tim could see anything at all was the streetlight outside the window. He took off his coat and laid it over a chair. It was so hot it was almost hard to breathe.He found the thermostat in the living room and winced; it was set at 80F. He dialed it back to 72F.

“Dick?”

There was still no answer and he continued down the hallway, noticing clothes strewn on the floor. The door to Dick’s room was open and he peered around the door frame, sighing in relief at the sight before him. Dick was lying diagonally across his bed wrapped in several blankets. He was lying on his side facing the door, his face squished into his pillow. His hair was damp with sweat and stuck to his forehead.

“Dick?” Tim called again. He cautiously entered the room, stopping at the edge of the bed. Dick stirred, opening his eyes and blinking several times.

“Tim? What’re you doing here?” he slurred. His voice was hoarse and Tim cringed.

“Search and rescue,” Tim answered. “Haven’t heard from you in a little while. Come on, let’s get you upright and check you over.”

Dick struggled to unwrap himself from the blankets and shift to the edge of the bed. Tim switched on the bedside lamp and knelt in front of Dick. Tim could feel the heat radiating from him.

Fever? Check.

“Open your mouth, Dick. Let me see.”

Dick opened his mouth and Tim sighed.

Swelling and white spots? Check.

Damn it.

Tim stood up and backed away from him, trying not to bolt to the bathroom to wash his hands. The last thing he needed was an infection. Dick looked up at him, his face scrunching into a frown.

“What’s wrong? You okay?”

Tim sighed. Leave it to Dick to try to be the caretaker.

“Nothing, I just don’t want to get sick. You’ve got strep and a nasty case, at that. How long have you been sick?”

Dick shrugged and stood up, wobbling toward the bathroom.

“Few days,” he croaked. He swallowed and winced. “M’gonna take a hot shower. I’m cold.”

Tim rummaged through Dick’s dresser and handed him some clean clothes.

“Meet me in the living room when you’re done. I’ll take you in myself.”

Dick disappeared down the hall. Tim hurried to the kitchen and washed his hands. He knew Dick’s cleaning supplies were under the sink and thankfully he had some bleach wipes left. He grabbed the container and went to work, quickly wiping down every hard surface he could find. When he heard the shower turn off, he put everything away and went to the living room. He was standing by the window scrolling through a list of urgent care clinics nearby when Dick returned.

“Ugh. Everything hurts.” His voice was a whisper and he winced again when he had to swallow. Tim clicked on one of the clinics and began making an appointment.

“You’ve been sick for days now and didn’t bother getting checked out?”

Dick shrugged and flopped down on the couch.

“It wasn’t that bad until last night.” He rubbed at his neck and closed his eyes. Tim remained by the window and finalized the appointment. “This totally sucks.”

“I’m not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor.”

Dick sighed and nodded.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

Tim immediately perked up and grabbed his jacket. He reached into the hall closet and tossed Dick’s jacket to him.

“You have an appointment in half an hour. Come on. I’ll take you.”

Two hours later Tim deposited Dick back into bed and set out his prescription on the bedside table.

“Your phone alarm is set for your next dose of antibiotics at ten. Make sure you eat. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“’Kay.” Dick reached his hand out toward Tim, fingers wrapping themselves around Tim’s wrist. “Thanks, Tim.”

Tim nodded and tugged his arm free of Dick’s grasp, tucking the blankets back around his older brother.

“You’re welcome. Now get some rest.”

Tim let himself out of the apartment and headed home, satisfied Dick would be fine on his own. He was feeling kind of tired, anyway, so an early night would be good for him.

The next morning he woke up to a phone call just after seven a.m. It was Dick.

“Dick? You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. The more important question is why did you hang around so long yesterday?”

Tim frowned and laid back in bed, burrowing beneath the blankets. The room felt kind of chilly for some reason.

“Why wouldn’t I? You were sick, so I looked after you.”

“You don’t have a spleen, Tim! Remember?”

Tim sighed and rolled his eyes.

“There was a chance to look after my older brother so I took it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to bed.”

He ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed next to him, smiling to himself as he drifted back to sleep. He’d call Leslie when he woke up. But for now, he’d savor being able to be the caretaker. He had a feeling Dick would show up later to return the favor, anyway.

[harryimaginedstories]

until forever

This is short and more a thought than a real story, similar to what Cozy and Romantic is like. It’s kinda a continuation actually.

Summary: What I think H would say when he tries to ask the most important question.

This is based on a request. Hope you enjoy. :)

Harry would watch from where he’d sit on the couch, eyes filled with amusement, warmth and adoration, as I would sit on the floor next to our small fire pit and arrange and then rearrange the wrapped gifts under our tree until the ensemble looked nice in my eyes. He’d bite his lips and then smile a little, overwhelmed with how happy this oh so domestic feeling would make his chest tingle. And he’d want this picture to last a lifetime. The flat would smell nice, especially since Harry had agreed to have a real tree indoors, which meant that its smell mixed with the constant aroma of christmas biscuits he would bake every day (though I wouldn’t be allowed to eat any but one, and that only because he’d want to know if I liked it, the rest he would store away and keep hidden until christmas day) and once I put up the honey wax candles, those too transformed our flat into a warm and comfortable little home. Harry’s heart would give a tiny squeeze and he’d swallow hard before sitting up. 

“Y/N? Can you come here for a second?”

It’d be unusual for him to call me by my given name instead of a nickname, so he’d have my attention and worry instantly. My eyes would find his, I’d frown at the sight of his serious expression and then climb to my feed and sit by his side on the couch, where he’d take my hand in his much bigger one and give it a squeeze. 

“Are you okay, my love?” I’d ask gently.

His lips would turn upward and he’d grant me a small smile before meeting my eyes with hesitation and uncertainty in them. I’d pull my legs up to sit closer to my now silent boyfriend and reach up one hand so I could scratch his neck and lightly tug on his curly hair, knowing he’d find it comforting. The lights decorating our walls as well as the small fire to his left hand side shone in his pretty eyes and gave his skin a warm glow. 

“M’thinking a bit,” he would say after a while more of me caressing his cheek and neck tenderly.

“That’s new,” I’d giggle, relieved to see him smile as well and my heart would flutter at the sight of my favorite person happy and close to me.

Harry would smell almost as good and homey as our flat did and if he weren’t so deep in thought and obviously troubled, I would’ve cuddled up into his side and breathed in his neck.  I’d initiate a make out session, because kissing him was something I’d never tire of, before leaving to prepare a dinner we could then enjoy while watching ‘A Christmas Prince’, a movie I’d refused to watch before the 20th of December when my festive mood reached its high. But now, I wanted nothing but to find out what was wrong with him and make sure he’d feel as warm and good as I had just a few moments ago.

“Harry, you’re worrying me,” I would sigh against his shoulder, “Normally when you’re all quiet and stuck in that head of yours it’s because you’re hiding something bad from me.”

“M’not,” he’d answer quickly, “Not tonight at least. Kinda... the opposite, I hope?”

His eyes would be hopeful when they’d meet mine with sparkling love in them and this time I’d let myself lean forward and kiss his pretty mouth. 

Tomorrow, our home would be filled with people we both loved dearly and Harry would be aware how much I would be looking forward to that, making that night perhaps not the best moment to bring up another subject. One much more important and life changing.  But after he would’ve spent a month decorating our flat, going to christmas markets together, shopping for presents and bake christmas goods for the third year in a row, he’d know that this was what he’d want every december to be like, for the rest of his life.  The thought would scare him, would scare any person and whoever claimed otherwise was lying, but upon looking into my eyes, his heart would know. This would be what he’d want more than he’d ever wanted anything else.

I’d smile when his fingers would raise mine so he could press a soft kiss to my open palm, though when he’d pull away and raise to his feet, I’d scoot back on the couch and look at him confused.  Harry’s hands would clench and unclench, his knees shake and when he’d speak, his voice would quiver. 

“M’in love with you,” Harry would choose to say and suddenly he’d regret having decided to do this today, when it was christmas. 

Because oh god what if I’d be unhappy? What if I wouldn’t say what he’d so desperately hope I would?

I’d smile again and hold out a hand for him to take where he stood, “I’m in love with you, too.” 

“And I want things to be like this forever.” 

I’d swallow hard. “I agree, but why are you bringing this up now?”

“Because you’re beautiful. And...” 

His lips would part, surprised at his own honesty and my fingers would squeeze his gently, before I’d drop them and press them against my mouth to silent the loud gasp falling from it.  Harry would’ve dropped to his knee in front of the couch, coming closer to my body where it would’ve gone rigid with shock at his action.  The hand I’d let go of would reach for mine again and I’d watch a flash of fear cross his lovely face. 

“Hold m’hand, baby,” he’d whisper, ���S’reassuring and I could really need some courage at the moment.” 

“Harry-” I’d stutter, but of course complying by taking his palm, “What are you doing? Are you-”

“M’so crazy about you, Y/N. And I hope you don’t completely hate how I’m bringing this up when it’s christmas time, and you’re head is busy planning tomorrow’s dinner, but watching you tonight as well as spending this month with you... m’just so happy. Genuinely happy.”

I’d scoot closer to the edge of the couch so I could bring his hand to my lips. “I am, too, Harry. This december was much calmer and better organized than the last and- gosh why am I talking about that when you’re... H, are you...?”

“I want you to marry me.”

The words would tumble from his lips, this time no hesitation in both, his tone or his eyes. The position on his knee would slowly become uncomfortable but it would be hard to notice when his ears would be ringing and his heart thrumming loudly in his chest. 

“Please,” he would ad, and I’d give a little cry at how utterly sweet he’d sound.

“Harry, oh my-” unable to finish I would throw myself forward and wrap both arms around his neck, before bringing my mouth to his and kiss him passionately. 

His hands would settle on my hips and I’d giggle softly when he’d stumble back and fall on his bum harshly, bringing me into his lap so we’d sit awkwardly on the floor. Our embrace would be tight and my lips a constance against his face. 

“Want to have kids, celebrate this time of the year with them and figure out how to tell them that Santa isn’t real once they’re not little anymore. I want to spend hours shopping for their christmas presents and when people ask what we’re planning on doing on Christmas Eve I want to be able to say that m’gonna spend it with my wife and family. I just... I want an us and I want it forever.”

He’d be out of breath by the end of his speech and I’d sob heavily, seeing our future as clear in front of his eyes as he would.

“Of course,” I’d promise him, lips pressed to his cheek, “I’ll marry you. Of course, Harry, my heart... I love you.”

I’d feel his tears against my neck before hearing him cry, though it would be when I’d hush into his ear that he had no reason to be sad, he’d laugh quietly and point out that I myself, was crying too, and that be was certain that neither of our tears were caused by sadness, but because we’d be overwhelmed with how happy we were. We would be together forever and the thought alone would be enough to make me kiss him, swear that I’d give him my heart until we died and longer, and wrap him into an embrace I’d hope I wouldn’t ever have to let go of again.

This is something I’m not too sure about, but that’s okay. Hope you’re all well and happy. :) x

Also: Masterlist

And: Christmas Harry