#nuggets t-shirts

[sadquickchristmassnowman]

now THIS is how you turn 20 (troy from mixology certification reference) (birthdau haul exposing me as obsessive and mentally deranged)

[closetofcuriosities]

[finelinefae]

bambi [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing

word count: 8.6k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, dating app, online dating, deer!reader, first date, first kiss, fluff, age gap (9 years)

a/n: this is the first part of a new series. as usual the first part is a lil slow to set things up but I'm excited for what's to come of this one. there's going to be a lot of cuteness and all the things i love writing about in this one so i can't wait to share more !

this is part 1 of Bambi, read part 2 here

. . .

Most of the time Y/N didn’t want to be in control of things. 

From a young age, she had to be in charge of everything. She had three younger brothers and was born to a single mother who worked hard to keep everything afloat in their tiny, townhouse. So inevitably she became an adult before she could even buy a lottery ticket. 

Her life wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t easy. With the constant nagging from her much younger siblings and the dampened sleeve of her t-shirt—evidence of the hours she spent comforting her mother through tears—Y/N had just had enough.

Her life had become an abundance of things she was struggling to keep up with. She had no reprieve throughout her daily life, no way of stopping or just letting go. 

She worked six-hour shifts at the supermarket, studied marketing at university, did the school run in the mornings, and often in the evenings too, if her mother was too tired to get off the couch. She tutored her youngest brother, who was falling behind in math, and kept the house in order while all three of them stayed glued to the television.

Even worse, her social life was practically nonexistent.. She was twenty-one and spent her Friday nights making dino nuggets and catching up on an incessant amount of laundry from the past week. 

Y/N wasn’t sure where her life was heading. The loneliness and stress was so overwhelming she could barely breathe. 

One night, the weight of it all brought her to tears as she thought about her future after graduation. Most of the girls she knew were planning gap years, travelling to places like Brazil or Italy. She tried to picture herself boarding a plane, but the only thing she could imagine was her mother calling mid-flight, asking her to pick up one of the boys from school.

She pulled open her phone eyes blotchy and nose stuffy from crying. Her loneliness was hitting her hard and she was desperate to feel some kind of connection, even if it was five minutes of conversation. So, she opened the only dating app she had on her phone, one that she’d installed many moons ago when she wanted to open herself up to meeting new people. 

She barely used it after realising she wasn’t the best at small talk and whenever a guy would ask for a date, her introverted self would refuse to step foot out of the house. But on occasion she’d find herself wondering, searching for someone to take her mind off of everything. 

Y/N swiped past copious images of men, seemingly unphased by all of them. She swiped through so many, that they almost began to look the same - 5’9, tanned, shirtless or lifting weights trying to show some kind of strength that proved to women they were most definitely ‘manly’. 

When she started to believe all hope was lost, she paused when her eyes settled on a man who didn’t look much like the others. He was tall, with brunette curls and green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He wore rings on his hands in every single picture and in one of them he wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a sleeve of tattoos. In most of his pictures he wore comfy sweaters and knitted cardigans with grey or black trousers. In one of them he wore a pair of blue jeans and had a small, battered copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket. 

She read his bio beneath. 

‘Harry, 30

Likes: scrabble, food, cats, books, cardigans

Dislikes: loud chewing, music played too low, emails, wearing sunglasses indoors at dinner is absolutely criminal’

She clicked the heart on his profile, eyes widening when the words ‘MATCH’ appeared on the screen in big bubble writing. He hadn’t sent her a message but clearly he had liked her own profile which was surprising considering she had barely anything on it. 

As she was mulling over what to say to start the conversation, three bubbles quickly appeared then disappeared, replaced by a message. She held her breath, reading the words. 

Harry: Hey, pretty dress

She frowned, wondering what he meant by that but then remembered she had a picture of her on her profile, showcasing one of her favourite dresses. It was a baby pink slip dress she had made out of silk fabric. 

Y/N: Thank you, I made it! :) 

Harry: You did? Wow! Looks better than most of the ones I’ve seen in my own store.

Y/N: Do you own a clothing store?

Harry: Something along those lines

Harry: Although they don’t sell pretty dresses like yours 

Y/N: They’re probably a lot better, I use cheap materials 

She cringed at her message, hoping she didn’t sound broke or not put together by saying she used something cheap.

Harry: I’m even more impressed

She smiled, watching him type a new message. 

Harry: What brings you here?

She tried to sum up how she was feeling without making herself seem like a weirdo. She didn’t want to sound like a recluse looking for human interaction no matter how much she felt like it. 

Y/N: I’m tired of everything, just want someone to keep me company 

Harry: I get that. Should I be worried? Are you okay? 

Her heart warmed, she couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her if she was okay. 

Y/N: I’m okay now, thank you for asking !! it’s just everyday life stuff.

Harry: Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about. I’m right here to listen… or read 

Y/N: thank you, that truly means a lot!! xx

Harry: No problem, love x

Y/N’s heart flickered at the name he had placed on the end. 

They texted for hours, well into the middle of the night. Y/N was giddy, rolling around on her bed, smiling so hard her cheeks ached. They had so much in common—both preferred quiet nights in, were family-oriented, loved literature and art and even fashion. He was funny and sweet, always checking in to make sure she was comfortable and that he wasn’t overstepping with his questions. Despite how much they had in common, they had a lot of differences too.

Y/N: Is it raining where you are? Xx

Harry: Hm, just checked outside and I think the clouds are coming over. I don’t mind though autumn happens to be my favourite season.

Y/N: omg really? 

Harry: What? You don’t agree?

Y/N: No omg are you kidding? I’m much more into spring. I like that it’s sunny with a slight breeze so it’s warm but not too warm so you can still wear a sweater

Harry: Ahhh I see, you do give spring I must say

Y/N: You think so?

Harry: Even from looking at your pictures, you look like a tulip or something. 

Harry: Or the little deer from that movie

Harry: What was it?

Harry: Bambi!

Harry: Maybe that should be your name - Bambi 

Y/N: That’s one of my favourite movies !! 

Y/N: I happened to think Bambi is a very pretty name 

Harry: Then I’ll call you Bambi 

Y/N: Well what should I call you?

Harry: Anything you like, Bambi 

. . . 

Y/N was working her shift at the supermarket. She was already entering her final hour, her stomach rumbling as she packed frozen pizzas onto the shelves. Although she had been working hard to get things done so she could go home on time, her mind was constantly wandering. 

It had been a full week of talking to Harry. They had converted to messaging on WhatsApp after exchanging numbers and every day Y/N would wake up to a morning text message from him telling her to have a good day and that he would be right there in her pocket if she ever needed anything. In the evenings, he would make sure she wasn’t going to sleep with anything heavy on her mind. He’d ask her questions about what she ate and if she had any time to herself in the day. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a little less lonely. She went about her day with a little pep in her step feeling the excitement of texting the man she had only just met. She didn’t know what it was about him but a part of her felt safe with him. Maybe it was the fact he was nine years older than her and knew what it was like to be under stress with so many things but he understood her in a way no one else did. 

And Bambi.

Every day, it was Bambi this and Bambi that, and every time, she’d swoon or smile at the nickname he had given her. It was silly, maybe even a little ridiculous, how much it affected her. But she couldn’t help it—every time he said it, a bubble of excitement grew inside her. She liked someone for the first time in a long time, and it brought something new, something light, into her overwhelming life.

After days of just simply texting, Y/N had asked him if he wanted to video call tonight. It would be her first time hearing what he sounded like and part of her was nervous. What if he came across differently from how he was over text? What if he didn’t look the way he did in the numerous pictures he had sent her? What if after calling tonight, he didn’t like her anymore?

Hours later, Y/N was tucked up in bed readying herself to call him. She had showered and blow-dried her hair, wearing her comfiest pink pyjamas with her body wrapped up in her duvet. Her thumb hovered over the call button, gnawing on her bottom lip as thoughts raced through her mind.

She gasped when Harry’s face appeared on her screen just seconds after she pressed call. It was their first time ever talking like this, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of him. He was sitting in a desk chair, a large framed artwork hanging on the wall behind him. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his tie loosened around the collar, and his curls fell lazily across his forehead. He looked so effortlessly handsome, it almost didn’t seem real.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking the stillness of her bedroom. It carried a warmth, soft and steady, like the glow of a campfire, and she felt herself melt under its gentle heat.

“H-Hi,” she squeaked, her cheeks immediately flushing with warmth. Her nerves bubbled up as she realized she was staring at him, trying to comprehend that this was actually happening. Surely she was dreaming, she pinched herself to make sure. 

Harry’s eyes softened when he heard her shaky greeting. “You alright?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, amused smile. His tone was gentle, almost teasing, but there was something deeper there—like he was studying her reaction and enjoying every second of it.

She nodded quickly, fumbling with the hem of her pyjama shirt. “I’m good! Just… surprised you answered so fast.” She giggled nervously, her voice high-pitched and sweet, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “I thought it’d take a few rings at least.” Her blush deepened as she tucked her knees up to her chest.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, making her heart flutter. “I was waiting for you to call,” he admitted, a soft smirk tugging at his lips. 

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shyly glanced up at him through her lashes. “Really?” she asked, her voice soft and a little disbelieving. 

He smiled, a slow, adoring smile that made her stomach flip. “Yeah, really. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His voice had that low, confident tone, but his gaze was gentle, like he wanted to make sure she knew he meant it. “The only thing getting me through work.”

“You’re still at work? It’s nine-thirty!” she exclaimed, glancing at the clock in disbelief.

Harry’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Is it past your bedtime, Bambi?” he teased, leaning back in his chair as he glanced at her through the screen.

Her heart stuttered hearing that nickname come from his own mouth. She felt like if the camera wasn’t on, she’d be floating around her room like a bright pink orb of light, “N-No,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “But shouldn’t you be going home by now? You’ve been working all day.”

He let out a small chuckle, shrugging as he glanced down at the papers scattered across his desk. “Got a lot to catch up on. Too many late nights spent talking to you.” His voice was warm, laced with affection despite his teasing.

Her heart sank for a moment, guilt creeping in. They’d been texting non-stop for weeks, and she hadn’t once thought about how it might be affecting his workload. He’d told her before that he worked for a clothing company, and it suddenly hit her how busy he must be.

Noticing the shift in her expression, Harry’s voice softened. “Y’thinking too much in that little head of yours?” he asked, cutting through her thoughts.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted quietly, biting her lip.

He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “You know I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, right? I love talking to you, Y/N. I think... I might even be a little obsessed with you,” he confessed, his smirk turning into a softer smile.

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, all she could do was stare at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “I-I think I’m obsessed with you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

“Yeah?” His voice was full of warmth, a hint of disbelief in it, like he hadn’t expected her to say it back. She nodded shyly, clutching her pillow tighter against her chest, her heart racing.

Harry huffed out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face to hide the wide grin that had taken over. “God, you’re even cuter than I imagined,” he murmured, his words full of adoration.

They talked for hours, diving into everything and anything that crossed their minds. It was the longest conversation they’d had since they started talking, and Y/N found herself more captivated by Harry than she thought was possible. The way he laughed, the way he listened—it all just pulled her in deeper.

In the middle of her sentence, she noticed Harry looking at her with an unusually soft expression, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. He suddenly spoke, cutting her off mid-thought. “Can I take you on a date?” His voice was gentle but firm, catching her completely off guard.

“O-Oh,” she stammered, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want to meet her so soon, but her heart leapt at the thought. “I’d like that,” she replied, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Very much.”

His own smile widened, a mix of relief and excitement in his eyes. “How about Saturday evening? I could pick you up.”

“But wouldn’t that be too long of a drive?” she asked, biting her lip. She knew he lived in the city, about forty minutes away without traffic, and she didn’t want to inconvenience him.

Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “It’s not too far at all. Trust me, I don’t mind,” he said confidently. “I’ll pick you up at 8, sound good?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, the idea of seeing him in person making her pulse race. She nodded shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mhm, that sounds perfect.”

Harry’s grin grew, his eyes twinkling, “Can you wear the pretty dress you made?”

Y/N blushed, “You don’t want me to wear something a little more sophisticated?” 

“Y’ can wear whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t mind but I think I’d like to see that little dress y’ made.” 

She nodded, stifling a yawn as it slipped out. It was getting late, and Harry was still at his office, working. “Y’tired, lovie?” His voice softened.

“A little,” she lied, knowing full well she was more than exhausted. But the thought of ending the call made her chest tighten—she wanted to keep him on the line, even just for a few more minutes.

Harry chuckled softly as if he could see right through her. “Why don’t you rest those pretty eyes for me, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, the gentle authority in his words making her entire body relax. She practically melted at the sound, her heart skipping a beat.

“M’kay,” she whispered, her eyelids already heavy as she let herself sink deeper into the comfort of his voice.

“I’ll be right here, alright?” he reassured her, his tone gentle and full of warmth.

She managed a soft smile, her words barely audible as her exhaustion overtook her. “Promise?”

“Promise Bambi,” he whispered, his voice the last thing she heard before sleep pulled her under.

. . .

“Mr. Styles?”

Harry looked up from his computer, peering over the rims of his glasses. His receptionist, Lindsey, stood in the doorway. “The samples for the newest collection have arrived. Would you like me to bring them in?” she asked, her voice polite but efficient, as always.

“Yes, please, Lindsey,” he replied with a sigh, signing off another email before hitting send. The endless stream of tasks had him feeling drained.

Though Harry wasn’t usually the type to show much warmth towards his employees, Lindsey was different. She’d been with him for years—long enough to earn not just his respect, but his trust. She was one of the very few people he relied on within his company. 

Harry was the CEO of Pleasing, a major fashion company he had built from the ground up. His first line had been designed in a small studio, crafted with his own hands and the help of a few close friends who still worked by his side. Now, it was a global brand. He was on Forbes 30 under 30 and had features in magazines like GQ. He was even in Time magazine for most influential people. 

Despite all the success, his day-to-day life had become an endless loop of emails, business meetings, and deadlines. Time for anything outside of work was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Lately, though, something, or rather someone, had started to make him reconsider how he spent his time.

He checked his phone once more having only picked it up a minute ago for the same reason. He hoped to see a message from Y/N, in fact he was eager to. Ever since he had messaged her on the only dating app he used, he hadn’t thought of anyone else but her. 

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, one born out of the loneliness that weighed heavier than ever that night. Harry sat in his dimly lit office, the silence around him almost suffocating. He hadn’t dated in over a year, not since his last relationship, which had ended on a bitter note. That girl had taken advantage of him, using his desire of the relationship he wanted to manipulate him. She had drained his bank accounts, maxed out his credit cards on shopping sprees and lavish holidays with her friends, leaving him both financially and emotionally exhausted. After that, he’d grown wary of trusting anyone.

When he joined the website, he wasn’t exactly hopeful. The chance of finding someone who truly understood his career and mirrored his desires in a relationship seemed slim.

But then he met his Bambi. 

He hadn’t been searching for anything specific that day, just scrolling aimlessly, but something about Y/N’s profile made him pause. There was a warmth to her, a genuine spark that went beyond her pictures. She didn’t seem to realise just how captivating she was, and that drew him in even more. It wasn’t just her beauty—though she was stunning—it was the way she spoke about the things she loved. Her messages were full of passion, filled with rambles about her favourite books, little moments in her day, or random thoughts that popped into her head. 

Y/N had ignited something within him. He was excited for this newfound thing they had going on, a spark he hadn’t felt in years. Every message from her left him smiling at his phone, wondering what she’d say next. It was the kind of excitement that made the day feel a little brighter, knowing she was just a text away. He found himself looking forward to the simplest things—her daily updates, the way she’d ramble about something she’d seen or read, and even the photo updates she’d send him of things she was doing.

For the first time in a long time, he found himself imagining what it would be like to share his life with someone, instead of the quiet solitude he’d grown so used to. He couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N being that person—the one to bring warmth into the corners of his once-lonely home. He pictured what it would be like to have someone in his space, their presence adding a new kind of lightness. Someone to be there in the small, everyday moments and to keep him company after a long day at the office. 

He couldn’t wait to meet her in real life, hold her in his hands and kiss the lips he spent nights dreaming about. 

Harry snapped out of his daze when Lindsey opened the door and the manufacturers entered the room behind her, holding the fabric samples in their hands. They greeted him timidly, laying the samples on the table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows. 

He walked over, black polished shoes clicking against the mahogany wood floor. He sighed when he took in the samples, he didn’t need to feel them to know they weren’t good enough. Uncapping the red pen, he drew a cross beside each sample, the men behind him releasing a shaky breath. 

“Come back when you have what I want,” He murmured, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. 

He checked the time on his watch and cursed. Today was his niece’s birthday and he promised his sister he’d visit in time for her birthday party this afternoon. “Lindsey,” He called, hearing her shoes against the floor before she opened the door to his office. 

He pulled on his blazer, “I’ve got to leave, did you wrap that gift I gave you the other day?” 

Lindsey frowned, “It’s under my desk but what about your meetings this afternoon?” 

“Cancel them.” He shrugged.

His Porsche was parked out front by the time he stepped out of the building. He put the gift into the passenger seat and made a mental note to stop somewhere to buy a birthday card. 

He glanced at his phone when a text came through.

Bambi: Half way through my shift. It’s been pretty rough, sorry for the late reply xx

His heart leapt when Y/N’s name appeared. He took his phone when he reached a red light and typed in a reply.

Harry: it’s okay lovie, call me when you finish yeah? x

He was desperate to speak to her even if it were just for a mere few seconds. 

Making a left turn, he pulled into the parking lot of a small supermarket on the highway. It looked run down and old but there wasn’t anywhere else he could go to before he reached his sister's house.

People sat outside, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of beer cans. He ignored the glances they made towards him and his car. 

He stepped inside and walked along the aisles, pausing when he noticed someone stacking things onto a shelf. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was wearing blue jeans and a fuzzy white sweater, her hair was braided and fastened with pink, silk bows. She wore wired earbuds, her pink ballerina flats tapping against the laminate flooring. 

She must have felt his gaze because her head lifted, eyes widening as they met his. Her soft, pink lips parted slightly, and in that instant, it was as if the world shifted—everything falling perfectly into place between them, as though they were always meant to find each other naturally. 

Harry hadn’t noticed the sugar spilling from the bag she was holding until the store manager stormed over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sharp tone made Y/N jump, her body snapping upright as she stood frozen in front of her manager, fear flashing across her face.

“I-I’m s-sorry, I—” Y/N stammered, her voice trembling.

“How many times do I have to hear the same excuse from you?” her manager snapped. “Stupid, useless girl, costing me the whole damn shop.”

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I-I know... I promised it wouldn’t happen again. It was an accident, really,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.

Harry’s frown deepened. Again? This had happened before?

From the way Y/N stood there, trying so hard not to cry, it was painfully clear—this wasn’t the first time her boss had spoken to her like this.

Harry’s jaw tightened as he watched the exchange, a surge of protectiveness rising in him. He had only known Y/N recently, but seeing her like this—small, vulnerable, and clearly hurt—stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.

“Excuse me,” Harry spoke up, his voice calm but firm, stepping closer. The store manager turned to him, annoyance flashing across his face.

“This doesn’t concern you,” the manager spat, his glare shifting to Harry.

“Actually, I think it does,” Harry replied, his eyes steady on the man. “You don’t need to speak to her like that.”

The manager scoffed. “And who the hell are you?”

Harry didn’t blink, his voice lowering. “Someone who knows when respect is lacking.”

Y/N looked up at Harry, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe he was stepping in. Her heart raced, a mix of relief and anxiety bubbling inside her. She wasn’t used to anyone standing up for her like this.

“Y/N, why don’t you take a minute?” Harry said softly, glancing over at her, his voice now gentle and reassuring. The tears in her eyes made his chest physically hurt. He’d be quick with this useless piece of shit so he could give her all his attention.

She hesitated but then nodded, her gaze flicking between Harry and her boss. She quickly turned, slipping away from the confrontation, her hands shaking as she tried to compose herself.

Harry turned back to the manager, his calm exterior masking the frustration brewing underneath. “Speak to her like that again, and I won’t hesitate to have this place torn down, brick by brick, and replaced with a building I own. Then you’ll know firsthand what it’s like to deal with a real fucking manager.” 

With that, he turned on his heel, already making a mental note to have his team look into this place. It was clearly lacking in more ways than one—enough to warrant being shut down for good he hoped. 

Y/N stood behind the building, her back to him, shoulders trembling as she cried into her sleeve. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured softly, stepping forward and gently pulling her into his chest. “Tha’s enough now, Bambi. Don’t waste your tears on him,” he whispered, his large hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Holding her close felt unexpectedly right, as if this was exactly where she belonged, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she sniffled, her voice small. “This isn’t how I wanted you to see me for the first time.”

His eyes softened with affection as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Carefully, he wiped her tear-stained, blotchy cheeks, his touch tender. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart,” he whispered, “S’alright now, y’ don’t have to go back in there.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling how soft and silky her hair was. He couldn’t seem to fathom that he was actually holding her after days of imagining what she would feel like.

She pulled away and for the first time Harry could get a proper look at her. He didn’t think it possible for her to be even more beautiful than the pictures he had of her on her phone but she was. Her features were soft, cheeks permanently pink like the colour of tulips on a spring day, her lips were the perfect shape, so delicate like two petals pressed together. She was a walking angel. 

“Hey stranger,” He grinned, those perfect cheeks turning pink. If Harry had one goal in his life it was to make her all flustery and blushy. 

“Hi,” She peeped, hands fiddling in front of her.

Her eyes widened when she saw the tear stains on his shirt, the damp spots revealing the tiniest hint of the tattoos on his torso. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” She cringed.

“Hey no need to apologise, ‘s not even ruined and I’d rather you were okay than some easily replaceable shirt.” He assured her. “Are y’ sure you’re okay? Don’t need to go in there and beat him up or anything,”

She smiled at that and the sight made his heart sing, “No it’s okay. I-I’m okay, thank you for looking out for me. I don’t normally have people doing that very often.”

He frowned. He didn’t like how often she spoke about how little help she got from other people. If anything, it made him want to take care of her even more than he already did. 

��I should probably head back in. I still have three more hours of my shift,” she huffed, clearly reluctant. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

Harry’s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. “You don’t have to,” he said, his gaze holding hers, protective and unwavering.

Y/N frowned, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “But I need the job, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I can’t just leave.”

His jaw tightened at her words. He hated seeing her stuck in a place that didn’t value her, where she wasn’t respected. “I know you need the job,” he replied, gentler now, trying to ease her worry. “But no job is worth being treated like that. Not by him.”

She bit her lip, glancing back at the store, anxiety clearly weighing on her. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t afford to lose it.”

Harry stepped closer, his hand finding its way to her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re not going to lose anything,” he said softly. “Let me take care of it. Of you.”

Y/N blinked up at him, her heart pounding. “Take care of me?”

“Come work with me,” He offered. 

There weren’t many positions available at Pleasing, but Harry didn’t care. He’d make something work—anything to keep her from going back into that place and dealing with the jerk inside.

“In the city? I... I can’t do that, Harry. I still have school, and my brothers...”

“You can work around it,” he said quickly, eager to find a solution. “I’ll pay for your gas to and from the city, or I’ll have someone drive you. Hell, I’ll drive you myself if it makes you feel better. Whatever you need. Just don’t stay here.”

He sighed softly, taking her small hand in his larger one, her warmth a comfort even as doubt flickered between them. “Just... think about it, yeah?” His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, trying to ease the tension.

Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

A grin spread across Harry’s face, his relief palpable. “Thank you Bambi.” He swore he saw her pupils carve into love hearts at his words. 

. . . 

Y/N hadn’t returned to her job at the store just as she promised Harry. It wasn’t only because Harry was insistent she didn’t go back but her manager had been pretty verbally abusive for quite some time now and she thought better than to go back and work for someone who was just plain mean. 

A few days had passed and Saturday rolled around quickly. Y/N was giddy with excitement, preparing everything in time for Harry to pick her up to take her on their very first date this evening. She had arranged a babysitter to look after her brothers since her mother wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t often they splurged cash on hiring a babysitter but Y/N wasn’t going to rearrange her date with Harry for anything.

She’d made a list of everything she needed to do: wash and blow dry her hair, shave every inch of her body, and paint her nails with the glazed pink polish she’d ordered online. Her hair was in curlers as she carefully laid out her outfit for the evening—a pink satin slip dress she’d made herself, paired with white kitten heels that matched perfectly. With the season shifting into autumn, she added a thin white cardigan to keep her warm in case the night turned chilly on the way home.

She wanted to look perfect. Especially after the fiasco the other day when he had rescued her from her mean manager. 

Everything seemed to move in slow motion the moment she laid eyes on the man from her phone. He was even more perfect than she had imagined—taller too. It still hadn’t sunk in that she was about to go on a date with this man—the one who wore a black suit to work and had saved her from cruel, terrifying managers.

And the way he spoke to her afterwards, comforting her with his big, heavy hands around her. She wanted him to pick her up and take her wherever he went. 

Y/N sighed blissfully in front of her vanity. As Y/N finished her makeup, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry. 

Harry: Just outside x

She peeked through the window, catching sight of him standing by a sleek black car, leaning casually against the door. He looked breathtaking in a fitted black suit, hands in his pockets as he scanned the street. Her nerves fluttered, a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbling up. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and grabbed her cardigan before heading out the door. 

The moment she stepped outside, Harry’s gaze snapped to her, dark and intense. He straightened up, eyes travelling over her form, taking in every detail of her appearance. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine.

“Y’ look stunning, Bambi,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. He took a step closer, his large hand cupping her cheek, thumb grazing her soft skin. “All this f’ me?”

Y/N blushed, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I-I wore the dress you wanted,” she mumbled shyly, looking up at him through her lashes, “Do you like it?” 

“‘S perfect,” He murmured lowly. 

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He opened the car door for her, watching as she slid into the passenger seat, her delicate form contrasting with the dark interior of his Porshe. Harry’s eyes lingered on her legs for a moment before he shut the door and walked around to his side.

Once inside, he reached over, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of his touch comforting her immediately. “You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her with a small smile, though the look in his eyes held a trace of dominance.

“A little,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft and shy.

Harry gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Y’ don’t have to be nervous around me, love, promise ‘m not scary. Least of all t’ you.” 

Y/N smiled, loving how he made it clear she was different, that he treated her in a way no one else could. It warmed her to feel special, especially when that feeling was rare for her.

As they drove, their conversation flowed easily. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, rambling about anything that came to mind. Harry listened intently, his smile soft as he asked questions, showing genuine interest in everything she said. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car, and each time she answered bashfully, his lips curved. 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as they drove deeper into the city. The lights grew brighter, illuminating a part of town she rarely found herself in—where the wealthy lived, with towering apartment complexes and upscale restaurants lining the streets. Harry pulled over in front of a sleek Italian restaurant, where a man stood waiting by the curb.

“Are we allowed to park here?” Y/N asked, her face bathed in the glow of the restaurant’s lights.

Harry suppressed a grin at her confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I just assumed we weren’t eating here, which is totally fine! You don’t need to impress me with a fancy restaurant.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she tried to clarify.

Harry’s lips curled into a teasing smirk. “What if I told you we are eating here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A-are we?”

Without answering, Harry reached for her hand, brushing his lips over the back of it. “Y’ too cute,” he murmured. “Come on, they’re waiting for us.” He stepped out of the car, passing his keys to the valet standing nearby, before adjusting his blazer and moving to open the door for her, his hand stretched out toward her for her to grab onto. 

Y/N hesitated, her mind reeling. There was no way they were eating at this restaurant—the kind with a year-long reservation list and three Michelin stars. She’d heard rumours that a single course here could cost more than her entire paycheck for the week. But as she took his hand and stepped out, it felt impossible to believe this was really happening.

Harry intertwined their fingers, offering a brief nod to the waiter who opened the door for them. “Harry… are you sure? They probably don’t have any tables for people just walking in,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, love. I made some arrangements.”

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Arrangements? How?”

Stopping at the ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’ sign, Harry finally turned to her with a playful twinkle in his eye. “I own the restaurant.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open as a waiter approached, menus tucked neatly under his arm. “Good evening, Mr. Styles. Your table is ready.”

Feeling like she was in a dream, Y/N walked hand-in-hand with Harry to a private table near the large glass windows at the back. The breathtaking view of the city’s skyline stretched out before them, and the table, set for two, was tucked away to offer them some privacy. 

As they were seated, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the quiet stares and murmurs from other guests. She knew Harry owned a clothing business, but… just how successful was he?

The waiter laid the menus out in front of them and left them to decide what they wanted to order. Y/N hadn’t even noticed as her wide eyes gazed around the room at the glowing chandeliers. 

Harry reached for her hand beneath the table, “Are y’ okay love?” He asked. Y/N’s gaze snapped towards him, “I hope ‘s not too much.”

“H-Harry, I really appreciate you bringing me here, I mean even stepping inside is a dream come true, but… I c-can’t afford this.” She felt awful saying it but it was true and it was better to tell him now than when she’d finished her meal, she wouldn’t want him thinking she was out for his money.

Harry frowned, “Bambi, this is a date. Y’ don’t have to pay for anything.”

“B-but I can’t use your money.” She told him. 

She couldn’t hear it but Harry’s heart was singing in his chest. She was exactly what he was looking for someone totally opposite to all the women he had dated in his past. 

He cupped her cheek in his hand, “Look at me Y/N,” Big, doe eyes gazed into his, “Please stop worrying and let me take care of you. I know y’ haven’t been given that in the past but ‘m here now and I want this. I wanted to bring y’ here and I want y’ to be spoiled and I want to treat you in the way you deserve. So can you pick something from the menu and let me look after you Bambi baby, please? Think you can do that?”

Her lips parted, slowly nodding her head but she quickly said one last thing, “You don’t have to take me to fancy places to make me feel spoiled Harry. I already feel spoiled enough just getting to be with you.”

He smiled, eyes glistening under the low light of the chandelier. He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed as a small thank you. “Have you decided what you’re going to eat?”

"Hmmm," Harry grinned, watching Y/N's pouted lips as she studied the menu with intense concentration. "I can't decide between the truffle pasta or the smoked salmon!" she huffed, clearly torn.

"How about this," he offered with a shrug, "I’ll get the smoked salmon, you get the truffle pasta, and we can share? That way you can try both."

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t want something else?”

He had been planning on ordering the steak and potatoes, but seeing how much this small decision seemed to weigh on her, he didn’t mind changing his mind. The smoked salmon was one of his favourite dishes anyway.

When the waiter came over, Harry confidently placed the order for both of them, which made Y/N visibly relax. She hated the pressure of ordering her own food, so the simple act of him taking charge made her feel instantly at ease.

“We’ll make sure to have your order as a priority, Mr. Styles,” the waiter nodded respectfully before walking away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. They must really like you here.”

Harry chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t I mention I owned a clothing business?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, “But I thought it was just a boutique or something.” She shrugged, clearly unaware of the scale.

Harry laughed a warm, deep sound that made her stomach flip. “Bambi,” he said, pulling her gently into his side until their cheeks were almost touching, “See that guy’s sweater? That woman’s hat? And that lady’s dress over there?” She nodded everytime he pointed towards them, her heart skipping a beat at their closeness. “We made all of those.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “W-wait, you own Pleasing?”

Harry nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/N couldn’t even count how many times she had opened the Pleasing website, scrolling through pages of clothes she desperately wanted but couldn’t afford. And now, she was sitting across from its owner—no, she was on a date with him.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling away slightly to gauge her reaction. "Which reminds me, have you given any more thought to the job?"

She had, actually. The idea had been rolling around in her mind ever since he’d mentioned it. "What's the role again?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"My assistant," Harry replied smoothly. "You’d help with emails, scheduling meetings, running errands—nothing too complicated. Just being my right hand.”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward, though? Since we’re, y’know... dating?”

Harry smirked, catching the implication. "So, there’s going to be a second date?" His teasing tone made her blush. “And if anything, it makes it better. I’d get to see you every day instead of just texting."

“But what about school?” Y/N asked, trying to think practically.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said easily. “Whatever you need. We can make it work.”

“Shouldn’t there be an interview or something?” she quipped, trying to lighten the moment, though her heart was racing.

Harry sighed dramatically, playing along. “Alright. Hello, Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to your official interview for the position of Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

Y/N giggled, her nerves easing as she followed his lead. “Well, hello Mr. Styles. Thank you for having me.”

Harry’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes twinkling as he played along. “First question,” he said, leaning closer, their faces now just inches apart. “How do you feel about spending every day with me? Answer carefully—it’s a tough one.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Well, Mr. Styles, I think I could manage that.”

“Good answer,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “Next question: Can you handle a man who’s very particular about his coffee?”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion. “Are we talking normal particular, or... like, twelve-steps-to-make-a-single-cup particular?”

Harry chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Maybe somewhere in between. But don’t worry, I can teach you.”

Y/N laughed softly, her nerves easing even more. Being around him was easy, natural—like slipping into something familiar and warm. “I think I could handle that.”

"One last question," Harry murmured, leaning in even closer. His gaze flickered to her lips for a brief second before locking back onto her eyes. "How do you feel about sneaking around with your boss?"

Her laughter died down, a trace of seriousness replacing it. She knew the risks—things had to stay professional, no hint of their relationship could slip through especially since Harry would not only be her boss but was the Senior Director and had to have the respect of everyone.  But still, she couldn’t resist.

“I think it could be fun,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Good,” He murmured, “I think you’ve passed the test, Bambi,” Y/N noticed how close his lips were to hers, if she moved her face forward they’d be touching, “Any questions?”

. . . 

Harry pulled the car up to the curb just outside Y/N’s house, the gentle hum of the engine fading as he switched it off. The street was quiet, the only light coming from the street lamps casting long shadows on the pavement. Inside her house, the windows were dark, and she silently hoped her brothers were already asleep, sparing her the awkwardness of explaining why she wasn’t rushing inside.

The silence between them felt comfortable yet charged, neither making a move to leave. It was as if both of them knew the night shouldn’t end yet, even though it had to at some point. Y/N looked down at her hands, nervously tracing the edge of her coat, stealing glances at Harry every few moments. He seemed deep in thought, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, but the same hesitation hung in the air between them.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He turned to her, his expression soft but intent, as if weighing every word. “Don’t need t’ thank me Bambi,” he replied, his eyes lingering on her face a moment longer than necessary. 

“I wish I didn’t have to go home,” She huffed, looking down at her fingers on her lap.

Harry’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, turning his body slightly toward her. “Y’ want to go back to mine?”

She wanted nothing more, the pain of saying no physically paining her, “M-my brothers... they have school,” she murmured.

“S okay,” He smiled. 

The air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings, and she could feel her heart race as the weight of his gaze settled on her. He reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft.

“Bambi,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly more intimate, like he was laying something important on the table.

She turned to face him fully, her breath catching as his fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race. The space between them seemed to vanish, and suddenly, all she could think about was the way his lips would feel against hers.

Neither of them spoke. The tension that had been simmering all evening finally boiled over. Harry’s hand cupped her cheek, and in that quiet moment under the dim streetlights, he leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But as soon as their lips touched, a wave of emotion flooded over her, and she couldn’t help but respond. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, slow and lingering. It wasn’t rushed or hurried—just soft, warm, and full of everything Y/N had been dreaming about for longer than she cared to admit. 

When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, both of them catching their breath, their lips still tingling from the kiss. His hand lingered on her cheek, as though neither of them was ready to let the moment slip away just yet.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, maybe to break the silence or make a joke about how long they’d waited for this. But before she could speak, a loud thud startled her. She turned her head, eyes widening as the lights in her house flickered on. And there they were—her brothers, pressed against the living room window, grinning like fools and making exaggerated kissy faces at them.

“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, mortified. Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she fumbled with her seatbelt. "This is so embarrassing."

She pushed the door open and scrambled out of her seat, grabbing her purse in a flurry of panic. “I am so sorry, Harry. I-I have to go,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush as she awkwardly tried to regain her composure. “Thank you for dinner, a-and the kiss! Oh, and the job too!”

In her haste, her heel caught on a paving stone, and she stumbled slightly, her purse nearly slipping from her hand as she made her way toward the front door.

Harry watched her, his mouth half open, caught between amusement and disbelief. She was flustered, rambling, and absolutely adorable. He couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped him as he leaned back in his seat, shaking his head.

"Bambi!" he called out the car window, grinning. “I'll take that as a yes on the job?”

Y/N turned back briefly, her face flushed but her smile shy and genuine. “Yes! Definitely yes!” she called over her shoulder, before hurrying inside, her brothers still laughing from the window.

As she disappeared through the door, Harry chuckled to himself, the warmth from their kiss still lingering. He turned the ignition on, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had unfolded. It was far from the graceful goodbye he had imagined, but somehow, it felt perfect. He couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled away from the curb. 

Yeah, he thought to himself, that definitely meant she was taking the job.

[tee24shop]

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[designusdt]

Denver Nuggets 5280 T Shirt

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[pathologicalreid]

green-eyed monster | s.r.

in which Spencer comforts your oldest daughter when she's jealous of the new addition to the family

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: jealousy, newborn baby, not proofread, i might be missing something word count: 1.48k a/n: girl dad spencer!!! everyone cheered!!!!

Spencer carefully shut the bedroom door behind him, cringing when he heard the door latch, hoping it didn’t wake you or the baby. Getting her to sleep last night had been a struggle, leaving her with two very sleep-deprived parents, but seeing as you were the one who had been feeding the newborn, Spencer did his best to let you catch up on sleep.

Not only did you need to rest, but he’d been the one to give your elder daughter dolls to play with this morning, and that distraction would only work for so long. Sure enough, there were little feet running down the hallway, nearly colliding with Spencer’s legs as she skidded to a halt. “Mama,” she gasped, out of breath from running.

“Hey, lovey,” Spencer whispered, holding a finger to his lips, “Mama’s sleeping.” He tried to herd her downstairs to fix her something for lunch.

She tried to slip between his legs to get to the door, but before she reached the doorknob, he swiftly scooped her up and set her on his hip, “Nooooo,” she whined, trying to climb out of his grasp and reach out for the bedroom door again. “Mama,” she called again, her little nose crinkling as tears well in her eyes.

Leah went limp in his arms as she realized that he wasn’t going to be bringing her to see you anytime soon. “Oh,” Spencer cooed as he hoisted her up, resting her head on his chest, each tear that sept through his t-shirt breaking his heart. “Honey, mama’s asleep, we can see her later,” he tried to assure her, but sometimes reasoning with a toddler was a miserable waste of time.

“The sun is awake, so Mama can be awake,” she insisted, huffing as Spencer set her down at the breakfast bar so he could start filtering through the meal options. Penelope had set up a meal train to help out, and he eyed the Tupperware in the fridge and wondered if chicken nuggets were going to be a better option.

Pulling out the freezer drawer, Spencer grabbed the bag of frozen nuggets and set them on the counter before preheating the oven. “Mama and Lacy were awake with the moon last night, so they need a little extra time away from the sun,” Spencer explained, rounding the counter so he could stand next to Leah.

He rested his hip against the marble countertop, reaching a hand out and smoothing back her curls. He found himself wishing he had a hair tie with him to pull the wispy strands from her face. “Lacy’s stupid,” Leah mumbled, resting her face in her hands and pouting.

Spencer leaned over the counter, resting his palm on the cool stone and taking a deep breath, “We don’t say stupid.”

“But I did,” she countered, furrowing her brows and crossing her arms in front of her chest. Everyone had warned you about the shift from one kid to two, but you hadn’t had enough insight about how to handle the jealousy from the older child.

He couldn’t blame her; she’d been the only child for years before you introduced a second baby into the mix. Not to mention, she’s only three, and her understanding of babies is limited at best. “Do you remember when Mama and I told you that the new baby needs extra help? It’s ‘cause she’s so little.”

Leah grumbled something indiscernible under her breath. The baby had been exciting for her when she got to tag along to doctors’ appointments and help paint the nursery, but ever since the two of them met in the hospital, Leah’s been almost hostile. “I want Mama,” she whispered, sticking out her bottom lip.

Spencer sighed defeatedly, “I know, lovey. I’m sorry,” he resisted his urge to bring Leah to see you. He wanted to wipe the pout from her face but couldn’t do it at the cost of waking you and Lacy up.

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen you in the week since you got home from the hospital, just last night, Spencer had volunteered to take Lacy while the two of you watched a movie in the master bedroom—you both fell asleep watching Finding Nemo.

As he made sure Leah was taken care of, he worried that in the stress of preparing to become parents to two, he had neglected to take the time to prepare Leah to be a big sister. You’d gotten her a bigger bed, complete with a princess canopy, and helped her learn how to play by herself, but none of that mattered if she felt like you didn’t have time for her.

Quietly, Spencer brought Leah back upstairs, watching her carefully in case she tried to get to you, but she veered over to her bedroom instead and climbed up on her bed. Leaving the door open a crack, he laid down next to her on the bed. “Why can’t Mama play?”

“Because Mama just had a baby, and that makes you sleepy and it hurts a lot, so we need to let her get rest,” he spoke gently, turning on his side so he could mind Leah’s reaction to his words. Sometimes he felt like you had a better time getting through to her. “I’m sure Mama will play with you again once she rests more.”

Leah huffed, “Stupid Lacy.” She laid down on her back, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Spencer propped his head up on his arm, “Leah,” he said, a slight warning in his tone, “Do you have kinder words to say about Lacy?”

She mumbled an answer, and he playfully poked at her side until she spoke up, “You called her princess.”

Frowning, he scanned through his memory to recall calling Lacy princess. He had called her princess, one time in the hospital when the two girls first met. “Did it bother you that I used the same nickname for the baby that I use for you?”

The toddler nods softly, sinking further into the fluffy pillows on her bed.

“Will it be okay if I keep using the same nickname for you, Lacy, and mama?” Spencer asked, tenderly reaching out and sweeping some stray hairs from her forehead.

“No,” she answered shortly.

Spencer hummed in response, “You know, it’s a very important job to be the oldest princess.” Leah looked over at him curiously, his first baby. “Someday, Lacy’s gonna need you instead of needing mama, and I need to know that I can trust you,” he continued.

Leah’s pout faded softly, “Need me?”

Nodding, Spencer smiled softly, “Uh huh, she’ll need her big sister.”

“Oh,” she breathed, brown eyes going wide with recognition and curiosity.

“She just needs to get a little bigger first, okay? You have to be patient,” Spencer reminded her of what was easily her least favorite task. That was only further emphasized by the way she scrunched up her nose at the mention of patience.

The two of them waited in silence while Leah seemingly processed the information that had been given to her, “Daddy?”

Spencer looked back up at her, “Yes, princess?”

She shook her head dramatically, “Mama can’t be a princess,” she claimed.

He might’ve laughed, but the look on her face told him that she was dead serious, “Oh? Why not?”

She sat up on the bed, crisscrossing her legs beneath her, curiously touching the tulle of her canopy, “If sissy and I are princesses, then Mama has to be the queen.”

“You’re right,” Spencer told her with the same confidence, “Your Mama is a queen.”

Giggling, Leah went back to lay down on the bed, the two of them sharing a suspicious look when the door to her bedroom creaked open, revealing you on the other side, “Mama!” Leah called out excitedly, standing up on the bed, Spencer could see her physically restraining herself from jumping on the mattress, which was off limits.

Your tired eyes lit up as you walked into the room, handing Spencer Lacy’s baby monitor before laying down on the opposite side of the bed. “Hi, lovey,” you greeted her, pressing a kiss to one of her soft cheeks.

“Guess what?” She asked, looking mischievously between her two parents.

Narrowing your eyes as you pretended to think about it, you smiled at your daughter, “Hm, what?”

Leah beamed at you, “Daddy said you’re a queen!”

Your eyebrows shot up, pleasantly surprised by your toddler’s secret, “Oh, he did, did he?”

She nodded enthusiastically, “Mhm, and sissy and I are princesses,” she proclaimed.

“So, Princess Leah, what do you think of our castle then?” You asked her softly, tapping the tip of her nose and eliciting a fit of giggles from the three-year-old.

She furrowed her eyebrows, looking around her own bedroom critically before turning back to her parents, “It could use more pink.”

[subtleanime]

Chicken Nuggets in Japanese Funny Meme Japan Joke men women Classic T-Shirt redbubble.com/i/t-shirt/Chicken-Nuggets-in-Japanese-Funny-Meme-Japan-Joke-men-women-by-NNNostalgia/144228659.IJ6L0

[oneoftheextras]

lockjaw | j.t four

masterlist | help me fund my top-surgery?

paring: hybrid puppy!jayce talis x f!reader

summary: after a recent breakup you find yourself adopting a hybrid to keep you company, but he's more feral than you can handle

series warnings: 18+, hybrid jayce (ears and tail), slight a/b/o traits (could argue alpha jayce), eventual smut, protective jayce, size difference

words: 4.4k

chapter warnings: blood, violence, and angst (trauma), not a lot for this one but its got nuggets if you can find them

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five |

want a handwritten letter from a character? / join the discord

Droplets of scarlet hit the wet pavement under his hands in trickles. The rain tried it’s best to wash away the blood seeping out of the abrasions on his knuckles but it was failing. 

He lifted his hand to wipe away the metallic-tasing liquid that filled his mouth from the split in his lip, and pushed himself back on his knees. 

“Get up, puppy!” the man who’d hit him shouted the pet name with the intent to cause offence. He spat a ball of saliva at him, clearly meaning for it to land on his person, but his inebriated state affected his aim as well as his decision making skills.

Jayce tilted his head diagonally but kept his eyeline to the floor; lips parted as an attempt to inhale the fresh rain-chilled air and calm his growing frustration. It would’ve been refreshing if not for the lingering flavour of iron.

The man, with his companions in tow, continued their approach, “Are you deaf, mutt?” he kicked up a puddle, splashing his already dirty t-shirt with filth, “What’s the point in those ridiculous ears if they don’t work?”.

Jayce shook his head, letting little beads of water fly from his hair, and got to his feet. He noticed how the three pairs of steps faltered for a moment when he’d fully straightened his spine, before they advanced. 

He didn’t want this. All he was trying to do was find somewhere safe and dry to rest for the night and avoid the storm.

“Freak!” one of the men yelled as he lunged forward, a metal pole moved with him like an extra limb, swinging through the air. 

Jayce leaned backwards to avoid it, and the end of the metal skimmed his cheekbone, but didn’t make contact. He used the man’s momentum to push him into the wall of the alley. His head collided with the brick and he slumped to the ground with a groan.

Hold back, don’t hurt them.

Upon seeing their friend get so easily manoeuvred, the other two charged like angry bulls. One tackled his middle section and the other jumped and grabbed him by the roots of his hair.

“You fucking animal!” the one on his torso cursed as he repeatedly punched him in the stomach, while the other shifted his grip to be on his sensitive ears, pulling them until he was hunched over.

He could’ve fought them off, he was physically stronger, but when he saw the crimson streak running down the man’s face - the one who he’d pushed - he knew he shouldn’t.

Hold back, don’t hurt them!

He closed his eyes and inhaled with every strike, it would be over soon. They dragged him to the ground and pushed his face into the dirty puddle that had stained his clothes, the murky water attaching itself to his skin and hair like a fungus.

“Monster!” they spat as they got their last jabs in and left him on the ground to collect their friend, satisfied that he was no longer moving.

Maybe he was a monster, but what else was he supposed to be?

A loud thud shook you awake, your body was on red alert as you jolted from your bed. The room was steeped in darkness, the illuminating glow of the street light leaking through the crack in your curtains was your only source of light.

Blindly you reached for your phone and clicked the button to light up the screen, the eye that was more awake than the other focused on the time; 4:22am.

You rubbed your face and put your phone back on the side, it was too early to be awake yet, so you started to lay back down with an attempt to go back to sleep. However, before your head could fully touch the pillow you heard footsteps from the living room.

For a moment it startled you, the sensation of living alone still second nature, but you settled once you realised it must have been Jayce.

Adrenaline still flowed through you, so there was no chance that you’d be getting back to sleep any time soon. Throwing your blanket off of your body, you stretched and wandered to the living room.

The small reading lamp gave the room a slight orange tint, not enough to hurt your tired eyes but enough to radiate the room with a soft glow. 

“Hey,” you called out to him gently, your voice cracking from the first use of the day. He stopped his pacing when he heard you, and turned to your direction - his hair was ruffled with strands sticking up in places, even the fur on his ears was unkempt.

You glanced down at the couch where the brown fluffy blanket was scrunched up to one side and the pillows slightly torn, their white polyester innards across the couch and some fallen to the ground.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked cautiously, trying to ignore how deep the gashes in the fabric were.

He averted your gaze and slowly moved towards the window to observe the street below, his jaw was clenched from gritted teeth hiding behind pursed lips, and his amber eyes were hard and unmoving.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that something had rattled him. It was unsurprising considering he was in a strange place with new smells and sounds; a lot of the forums said sleepless nights were common for the first few days.

“Do you want some tea or coffee?” you stretched again with a groan and started toward the kitchen but waited for his response before fully exiting the room. The ear closest to you twitched and you saw him briefly look at you out of the corner of his eye.

His body language shifted to indicate he wanted to follow, but something was holding him back. “Well, I’m going to make a coffee, you’re welcome to join me if you want,” you left the door open and decided not to push him any further.

You got two mugs out of the cupboard and set them down on the counter, rubbing your eyes with your free hand - the glare of the kitchen light stung - when you heard footsteps getting closer to you.

Glancing over your shoulder and towards the doorway, you watched Jayce enter slowly. He was cold and somewhat unreadable but you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, so you pulled out one of the stools from the island and tapped it for him to sit.

“Come, keep me company while I wait for this to boil,” you gestured to the kettle, “And…” you extended the word and held it until you found what you were looking for. “I got you these-” you placed a wooden box in front of him and lifted the lid, “-just choose one and let me know, okay?”.

The box contained different packets of tea, each divided into their own section and labelled, you’d bought it specifically for him. 

“I don’t know if I remembered all the ones you had back at the sa-” you paused to correct yourself, “-the other place, but I got a few that I thought you might like,” you rambled as you filled the coffee machine with a pod and put your mug under the nozzle, pressing the button for it to start.

He inspected the box; picking up a packet, reading it, sniffing the outside and putting it back into the box. After the sixth sniff test you were starting to worry if you’d remembered incorrectly.

He inhaled one light-blue coloured one and scrunched his face up with disgust - he doesn’t like chamomile, okay, noted.

“Did you know that-” he lifted his attention from the box to the back of your head while you watched the coffee pump out into your mug and spoke, “-No one knows where chamomile tea originally came from?”.

You twisted the mug on it’s podium so the hand was on the right and let the brown liquid slowly fill it, “Well,” you interrupted yourself, “That’s technically a lie,” you chuckled.

“The first documented use of it is in Ancient Egypt for religious ceremonies, you know, the whole embalming the body so it’s preserved for when they meet the gods type of deal,”.

At one point when you were speaking you’d turned to lean against the counter, but your eye line was still watching your mug. He didn’t know why, but you knew it was because the coffee machine would sometimes cut out while pouring and you didn’t want chunks of granules in your drink.

He observed the side of your face, watching your jaw move as you continued, “It was the Romans who started to actually drink it, and then unsurprisingly, so did the Greeks-”.

The machine stopped pouring and gently beeped to notify you that it was done, so you lifted the cup from its platform and continued making your drink.

“-And they largely documented it as being medicinal- Oh!” you exclaimed as you remembered another fun fact, “Did you also know that the word chamomile comes from the Greek word ‘khamaimēlon’, I’m definitely pronouncing that wrong, but it means ‘earth apple’, isn’t that funny?” you stopped rambling when you turned to him to collect whichever tea sachet he’d picked but realised he was staring at you with a blank expression.

You pulled down the sleeves on your shirt to cover your knuckles when you finally acknowledged his gaze. He noted the gesture and wondered why you did it so much.

“Did you choose one?” you timidly asked, trying to act as if you hadn’t just spewed all your thoughts out at once. Noticing that he had a packet in his hand, pinched between two fingers, you extended your palm to him.

However, instead of giving it to you, he stood from his seated position and ripped open the paper with his teeth, wrapping his hand around the empty mug and placing it in front of him.

“I don’t mind doing it for you,” you stepped closer to him, expecting him to move out of the way so you could take over. As if you were both south poles of a magnet and your proximity repelled him; the closer you got to him the further he leaned away - taking the mug with him, and paper still clenched between his canines.

You recoiled your hand and stepped away, a soft “Okay,” was all you could manage before you returned to your cup and gave him space.

He was more isolated than yesterday. His shoulder muscles tensed when you moved too quickly or closely to him, so perhaps it was best to keep your distance until he approached you.

He trickled the boiling water into the mug and bounced the teabag, submerging it under the water and letting it rise again with delicate precision until he was happy with the colour it had changed to.

“When it’s a more reasonable hour-,” the two of you had made your way back to the living room, “-I can show you around town, what’s nearby and stuff, if you want?” you tucked your legs under yourself as you got comfortable on the couch.

The semi-destoryed pillow puffed out more white innards when you leaned back on it, “We should probably get you some new pillows too, but I don’t know if they do indestructible ones,” you chuckled, trying to make light of the situation.

The whole time you spoke Jayce stood by the large window, staring down at the barren streets below. He held the mug with both hands, the only visible part being the handle hooked over two of his fingers, maybe you should look for some larger cups for him too?

“Or we can stay inside, I’m not working again until Monday, so I’m all yours for two days!”, he glanced at you out of the corner of your eye and you suddenly felt very small again, “Well,” you cleared your throat, “I have chores I need to do, but you get what I mean,”.

A car revved its engine outside and his attention darted back to the intrusive sound, the hairs on his arms standing to attention, leaving goosebumps across his skin. 

The grip he had on the mug was intense, causing his knuckles to start to lose their colour, “Come sit down,” you suggested, trying to hold some authority in your voice but largely failing.

He regarded you again but didn’t move from his post, instead sipping his drink and keeping his eyes on the street.

He reminded you of a sentinel, ever watching and ever on guard duty.

You turned the TV on and quickly muted until you were able to put on some relaxing meditation music which finally made him turn away from the window and towards the TV.

The muscles in his nose scrunched lightly as the wrinkle between his eyebrows deepened, his eyeline switching between you and the TV, “It’s cheesy, I know, but it genuinely does help,”.

There was a moment of stillness, neither of you moved, just the sound of the music filled the air but the atmosphere was anything but calm.

You pointed towards the bag you’d handed to him yesterday which had been placed next to the TV, “Did you take a look inside?”, he shook his head softly and eyed the bag, “Oh! Go get it!” you shuffled with excitement, picking up your coffee cup and cradling it in your hands.

He hesitated but eventually put his cup down atop one of the coasters on the table and retrieved the bag, “Sit, sit, sit!” you tapped the couch next to you like a child about to open presents on Christmas day, but he opted for the armchair adjacent to you.

Maybe you shouldn’t have told him to sit? It slipped out so naturally, but perhaps it came across that you were treating him like an actual dog? You shook your head, trying to ignore your thoughts and instead focus on him.

He put his hand into the bag and slid the first box out, Clue. He turned the box over with confusion and inspected the back, his eyes sliding from side to side - at least that answered a question about whether he could read.

“Have you played Clue before?” you asked. He gently placed the box on the coffee table and shook his head again whilst revealing more board games; Catan, Monopoly, Battleship, and of course, a chess set.

Every box he studied with acute interest, taking in every picture and word on the print like it was the first time he’d seen it. He glanced up to you from the last one, his amber eyes slightly softer and calmer than before, and the corner of his mouth upturned into a subtle smile.

“We can play now if you want?” you placed your coffee to the side and started to clear the table, he shuffled forward to the edge of the armchair cushion and helped you, “You choose, I'm happy to play whatever,” you encouraged him.

He immediately picked up Clue, seeing as it was the one that you'd asked about and seemed the most excited for. When you smiled, he knew he'd picked correctly.

He ran the nail of his pinky along the seam where the lid met the rest of the box, and sliced through the thin plastic wrapping, pulling it off whilst you moved the last few things off of the table. 

Jayce placed the box on the surface and slowly lifted the lid until it popped off, but let you set up the board and shuffle the cards.

You explained how the game worked whilst he picked up each of the small coloured cones and their respective character cards, deciding which one he wanted to play as.

He eventually decided on Colonel Mustard, and chose Professor Plum for you. 

It took him a few rounds to fully understand the mechanics of the game; roll the dice, enter a room and make a guess. He’d write his three words down on a notepad you’d found for him, and the first thing you noticed was how neat his handwriting was.

It was bigger than yours and slightly slanted as if it were in italics, but almost like something you’d expect to find on a fancy sign.

You won the first few games, "Unfair advantage," you'd commented to reassure him, but as you'd expected, he started to pick up your tactics quickly.

“Rope, Library, and Reverent Green?” you recited what he’d written as his next guess and inspected your hand, none of those cards were between your fingers, “I think you’ve got it,” you smiled at him and picked up the envelope in the middle of the board to hand it to him.

He slipped one of his fingers into the sleeve, the paper bending to the outline of his digit and he pulled the three cards out to see if he was right.

He grinned as he turned each of the cards over, revealing one by one.

Reverend Green. He turned the second card over on the board, Rope. He narrowed his eyes at the last card smiling, his canines poking out from under his top lip; as he pinched the card between his middle and index finger to slowly turn it towards you, Library.

He’d won, again. “Damn,” you looked at the spread of cards, the regal yet smug expression on the Reverend's face, sandwiched between the darker tones of the Rope and Library, “Not a bad way to go,” you muttered to yourself with a giggle. 

Your tone wasn’t lost on him. He side eyed you with a raised brow, his expression unreadable but somewhat judgemental. “Sorry, I’m tired,” you said as you fought the rising heat in your cheeks, and rubbed your face with your hand.

The coffee in your cup had long since emptied, as was Jayce’s tea, but he picked up the cards and started to shuffle them again.

You glanced up to the clock on the wall, 6:53am. The two of you had been playing for over two hours, but Jayce didn’t seem the least bit tired.

He organised the cards, reset the pieces and slipped the three winning cards back into the envelope and started to mix the rest together.

His hands moved quickly, like a man who’d spent his whole life shuffling these cards, but your vision was starting to defocus like a faulty camera. Progressively throughout the night you’d slumped further and further into the side of the couch until you were laying down with your arm propping your head up to see the board.

Jayce handed you your pile of cards and rolled the dice, taking his turn first as the winner of almost all of the previous games, but your one eye that remained open couldn’t make out what number he’d rolled.

The last thing you remember was the clicking of his plastic yellow piece tapping gently against the board, signalling every step his character took. He must’ve rolled a five because you heard five taps, or was it four? It was hard to keep count.

When you awoke for the second time that Saturday, although eclipsed by the dark grey curtains that covered the windows, the sun shone brightly alongside the light trickling of rain. 

You stretched your limbs, hearing a few pops and cracks as your joints woke up slower than your brain; and the brown blanket that you’d left at the end of the couch for Jayce slid off of your torso as you sat up.

A groan left your lips as your spine fully extended and the muscles in your arms and legs relaxed from the tension. You peered towards the armchair but found it surprisingly empty, the large figure that had occupied it mere hours prior nowhere to be found. Even the cushion that normally sat there was missing.

With sleepiness still haunting your vision, you stood from the couch and went to pick up the mugs left on the coffee table. The right hand connected with your cup, which was strangely full with luke-warm coffee, and the left hand found nothing.

As if on autopilot, you shuffled towards the kitchen to empty your mug, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand when you almost tripped on a leg.

Luckily, some part of your occipital lobe was awake enough to notice the limb before you stepped on him.

Jayce was sat on the floor and using the side of the couch as a backrest; one leg bent so he could rest his arm on it and the other - the one you’d nearly stumbled over - had fallen carelessly to the ground and extended in front of him. Becoming the perfect hazard for your clumsy feet.

His head was tilted back and sideways against the arm of the couch, and his eyelids closed with his lashes delicately resting against his skin. His chest rising and falling with every inhale and exhale of deep breath. 

He appeared so peaceful when he was like this, a picture of contrast to his agitated 4am demeanour, but you were confused as to why he was on the floor. Was it because you’d accidentally taken the couch?

You tiptoed over his leg, successfully passing him without disturbance and continuing your journey to the kitchen, when there was a knock at the door. 

The sudden unexpected noise made you jump out of your skin; you were surprised that you didn’t spill the contents of the mug onto the light grey carpet. Thankfully, it stayed inside it’s ceramic container. Coffee stains were a pain to get out of the cheap yarn that the landlords had chosen as flooring.

When you opened the front door you were greeted by the friendly face of your neighbour, “Morning!” you whispered to him as an attempt to maintain whatever tranquillity Jayce had found in your apartment.

“Afternoon?” he laughed back, “Wait, what time is it?” you whipped your head around as if it was even possible to see the living room clock from where you were standing. Instead of ticking hands, you were met with piercing golden eyes staring back at you from the ground. The door was in the direct line of his sight. 

It was hard to break away from his gaze as he got to his feet, “It’s almost 1pm,” your neighbour confirmed, bringing your attention back to the man at the door, “Anyway, I was getting my mail and thought I’d grab yours too,” he extended a handful of envelopes to you.

“Oh, that’s kind, thank you!” you took the letters and smiled at him as if he didn’t do this on a weekly basis, “Not a problem, how have you been?” He put his hands in his pockets and made no gesture to indicate that he was leaving any time soon.

You turned your head back inside the apartment at the sound of a creaking floorboard to see that Jayce was walking towards you and the door whilst stretching his arms above his head.

“I, uh-” you stuttered as you stepped closer to the doorframe and pulled the door with you, trying to hide as much of the interior from him as you could.

“-I can’t really talk right now, sorry, I have company,” you tried to give him the hint to leave. After an already rough first night, you didn’t know how Jayce would react to another stranger within his proximity, and you hadn’t exactly cleared Jayce moving in with your landlord.

“Oh?” your neighbour quirked an eyebrow and smiled at you in a suggestive manner. Whilst you wanted to correct him and explain that it wasn’t like that, you could hear the footsteps behind you getting closer.

You chuckled to him and shrugged your shoulders, “Yeah, can’t keep him waiting,” you played into whatever narrative he had running through his head if it meant he would leave. 

He gave you a toothy smirk and looked you up and down, “Well, at least you’ve moved on,” his comment wasn’t supposed to come across as an insult but the implications stabbed you in the gut.

“Thank you for the mail!” you gave him the falsest smile you could muster after being so brutally and bluntly reminded of your loneliness, “We’ll go get brunch soon and you can tell me all about it,” he whispered to you with a wink before you finally managed to shut the door.

You inhaled deeply and leaned against the back of the door, happy to not be forced into a social situation you didn’t want. 

Jayce had stopped his approach when the door had closed, his nose crinkled up in distaste and his eyes boring into the door as if he could still see your neighbour through it. By that reaction alone, you knew you’d made the right call of not introducing them.

“Mail,” you waved the letters in a circular motion and put them on the table by the door. “I’m sorry I slept in so late,” you apologised, despite being the one that woke up first.

“I propose-” you started as you walked into the kitchen, finally completing your mission of emptying your mug and putting it in the sink to be washed up later, “-We go get you some better pillows, and I can show you what’s nearby, and we can get some lunch while we’re out,” you raised your voice slightly so he could still hear you in the other room.

“What do you think?” you popped your head around the doorframe and found him standing in the hallway as he was before. He opened his mouth widely to yawn; even though he covered his mouth with his hand, you could still see the sharp canines that lined his gums.

He rattled his head as if he was trying to shake away any remaining sleepiness in his body, but eventually nodded in answer to your question.

“Great!” you beamed, almost skipping with joy past him and towards the bathroom, “I’m going to have a quick shower, I’ll let you know when I’m done so you can use it, then we’ll head out,” you tapped the door frame as if you were a judge and your hand was the gavel making the final decision.

You had exactly the lunch spot in mind to take him.

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[swimmingruinsdream]

Chicken Nugs and Mama Hugs T-Shirt

This Chicken Nugs and Mama Hugs Toddler t-shirt is perfect for parents and caregivers who love chickens and their little ones. The design features a cute chicken illustration and the text "Chicken Nugs and Mama Hugs" in a playful font. It's a fun and adorable way to show off your love for chickens and your little one at the same time.

[nats--sw]

Gold chain (pt3) | Leah Williamson

A bit more of Leah while everything around you gets more intense warnings: just fluff and slow burn pt1 - pt4 - my masterlist

Leah's love for tennis skirts had just been solidified. She found herself frozen, her fork suspended midway to her mouth. Your video call had caught her off guard, and the first thing to greet her on the screen was you, your back facing the camera, only in your sports bra and the skirt you wore during your recent match, which had wrapped up just a few hours ago.

"Hellooo?" Leah said, gently placing her fork back onto the table.

"Just a sec!" you called out, still with your back turned to the camera.

Leah watched as you reached into your bag, pulling out a black t-shirt that you slipped on.  Unlike the tight one you wore for tennis, this one was baggy—definitely a guy’s shirt, she thought.

"Did you watch my match?" you asked, now facing the camera on your phone, which sat at the coffee table in the room.

"Yep" Leah replied, flipping her phone’s camera to show the TV tuned to the sports channel.  “Feeling nervous about the quarterfinals?” she asked, sounding both curious and supportive.

"Nah... I don't know who I'll be facing yet though," you said, slipping off your socks. "At least I’ve got two days to rest before the game."

"Yeah, like you’ll actually rest," Leah teased.

"You're probably right," you chuckled knowing she had you figured out. During your first call yesterday, you had explained your intense training routine before matches. "What are you having?" you asked Leah, curiosity evident in your voice as you held your phone again.

"Smiley faces," Leah said, poking a potato and showing it to you through the camera.

"What?" you laughed, not quite sure what she was showing you.

"Potato smiles. Delicious," she said, grinning as she popped the potato into her mouth.

"Ew! Didn't your mum teach you not to talk with your mouth full?" you teased, though you found it amusing to watch Leah goof around. "Do they taste like real potatoes? I've never tried them."

"What are you talking about?" Leah gasped, dramatically dropping her fork onto her plate. "Are you kidding me?"

"Whoa, you sound genuinely offended," you said, struggling to contain your laughter.

"Of course I am! How is it possible you've never tasted these? What did you eat all through your childhood?" she asked, her face completely serious.

"Leah... would you believe me if I told you I didn't try a nugget until I was 16?" you said, your tone turning more serious. "It was when a friend from school invited me over for dinner. My mum was always particular about what I ate." Leah's expression turned to a slight frown as she listened intently. "I always had well-balanced, hearty meals. She just wasn't a fan of processed food," you said, hoping to provide context and prevent any misconceptions about your mother.

"Sounds... kind of sad," Leah said, finishing her last potato. "I should invite you over for smiley faces, shouldn't I?" she asked with a shy smile.

"You could... I'd gladly accept," you replied.

"I'll think about it," Leah said, shaking her head with a playful grin. After a brief pause, her face suddenly lit up. "Oh, I wanted to ask you something."

"What is it?" you asked, intrigued.

"Today, something caught my eye. Well, actually, it's been catching my eye for a while now, but I think I've finally spotted a pattern," Leah explained, narrowing her eyes. "Your chain around your neck... I've seen you tug on it from time to time."

By reflex, your hand went to your neck, and you felt a brief panic when you didn't feel the chain right away, realizing it was hidden beneath your shirt.

"Is it something significant to you?" Leah asked.

"Yes and no. It's kind of silly," you replied, settling into bed and arranging the phone between the pillows. "Sometimes when I'm feeling nervous or a bit anxious, I tug on it to remind myself it's there, but it's not a big deal to me. I started wearing it a few years ago for a silly reason."

You hesitated, thinking you might bore Leah with the details. But seeing her through the screen, now cozy on her couch with a blanket over her legs and a smile on her face, you realized that perhaps this time someone would actually be interested in listening to you.

"I've never been picky," you began to explain. "I never asked my parents for anything special. They always gave me everything I needed, especially when it came to things that could improve my game. But as for gifts, I always felt too embarrassed to ask for certain things." You bit your lip, trying to stay on track with your story. "The thing is, I always wanted a chain. I didn't care much about the material. Everyone at the academy had one, boys and girls. It's a common accessory, after all. I wanted to be like them."

You fell silent, suddenly feeling a bit silly for sharing such trivial details. Leah, however, misinterpreted your silence and blank stare, thinking she had touched on a sensitive subject.

"Did someone special give you the chain you wear?" Leah's gentle voice interrupted your thoughts.

"No," you shook your head, trying to suppress a smile. "I bought it myself. That's why it has my initial on it," you explained, holding the chain up to the camera.

Leah felt conflicted. On one hand, the story ended with a bit of humor, but on the other, there was a hint of sadness. It was the kind of gift typically given by a loved one or partner, and in the end, you had to buy it for yourself… which was a bit sad.

"After I won my first WTA title, I had quite a bit of money, so I went to the first jewelry store I could find and bought it," you explained.

You noticed the puzzled expression on Leah's face; she had gone silent when you expected her to laugh at the end of the story. You smiled nervously, wondering if you were diving too deep into conversations with her.

"Maybe she thinks you're weird," the insecurity echoed in your head.

Just then, a notification popped up on your phone, rescuing you from overthinking.

"Ugh, I've got to go meet Lucas. He wants to work on my serve," you said, standing up quickly with your phone in hand.

"You have a great serve," Leah said without hesitation.

"You're only saying that because you're a fan," you replied, rolling your eyes and trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach that always fluttered when Leah complimented your game.

"Exactly, and I watch every move you make," she said, crossing her arms and wrinkling her nose playfully.

"How adorable," you thought to yourself.

"Tell your coach you don't need any improvement," Leah said.

"He's my coach. I pay him to help me get better," you said as you slipped on your shoes.

"Yeah, whatever," Leah responded with a playful smirk.

"Do you buy the whole love at first sight thing? Ouch!" you winced as your physio applied pressure, stretching your leg into a position that felt tight.

"Take a deep breath," advised your therapist, easing off the pressure. "There you go," she said, gently returning your leg to its natural position.

"It's not something I believe in, in case you're wondering," you said, laying face down on the table and removing your headphones. Conversations during your physio sessions were rare, you typically dozed off, hence the headphones to drown out the noise around you.

"I guess that's not your cup of tea," your physio chuckled softly, now focusing on massaging your calves. "Is she pretty? They say love often comes in through the eyes, especially if it's love at first sight, as you said."

"She's definitely pretty, yeah," you admitted, wincing as your therapist's thumbs applied pressure into your muscles. "Geez, who said these sessions were relaxing?" you muttered, closing your eyes to bear the discomfort. "She's pretty, but it's more than that... I feel like I can talk to her."

"Y/N, you talk with tons of people every day," your therapist reminded you. "Honestly, you never seem to stop talking," she added with a laugh.

"It's different with her. I can talk about anything, even tennis, but there's no pressure... It's like talking to her puts me at ease," you explained.

It was so calming that you had fallen asleep chatting with her the last two nights.

"I shouldn't be catching feelings for someone I'm just getting to know," you sighed.

"Well, actually, it's perfectly normal," your physio reassured you.

You sighed with relief as the tension in your muscles began to ease under her skilled hands. It wasn't a sigh of relief because someone validated your growing feelings for Leah. Definitely not.

"There are times when love hits you fast and hard, you know? When it's intense." the woman explained, now focusing on your back. "And you, my dear, are intense. It wouldn't be surprising if you fell in love just as fast."

"I haven't fallen in love," you protested, attempting to sit up from the table, but your therapist effortlessly kept you pinned down with a swift motion.

"And you're impulsive," she added with a tired sigh, familiar with your reactions. "I'm surprised you haven't declared yourself to her already."

"There is no one," you insisted.

"You've already admitted there's a pretty girl and that you have feelings for her, even if you're not quite sure what those feelings are yet," she teased with a mischievous smile. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to have someone special," she suggested, helping you onto your back on the table. "She could be good for you… here" she said, gently touching your heart. "And here," she continued, touching your temple with her finger.

"What are we watching?" Lia asked, settling down next to Leah on the couch. They had planned a dinner date to catch up, but Lia suspected it was more about Leah avoiding another night of cooking.

"There's a match about to start," Leah replied, quickly grabbing the remote from her friend's hands.

Lia glanced at the screen, which now displayed the stats of two tennis players. "Has Wimbledon started already?"

"No," Leah sighed, rolling her eyes. "There are tournaments throughout the year, not just the Grand Slams," she explained, her focus on the screen.

"Since when are you an expert on this?" Lia asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's basic knowledge, not all sports revolve around football," Leah defended herself as the players stepped onto the court.

"Is this match a big deal?" 

"It's the quarterfinals," Leah replied.

"How do they win?" Lia inquired further.

"They win by taking two sets." Leah explained, her irritation starting to show.

"And how do they win those sets?" Lia pressed on.

"God, Lia, just watch and you'll figure it out," Leah snapped, feeling her nerves creeping in. She was clearly on edge.

“Why are you so grumpy today?” Lia eyed her suspiciously.

"What's wrong with her? What's she doing?" murmured Leah, leaning back on the couch, her eyes glued to the match on the tv screen.

"Huh?" Lia turned to her.

"She's struggling to reach her shots," Leah pointed out, just as you lost another point. "She had the match in her bag."

It was true. You had started strong, winning the first set 6-1 and even taking a 4-1 lead in the second set. But now, your opponent had fought back, and you found yourself in a 1-6 tiebreaker, unable to secure more than a single point.

"Set point," was announced on the tv, and Leah waved her hand.

You positioned yourself, shifting from side to side, anticipating your opponent's serve. But before you could react, she sent a powerful shot down the line, leaving you with no chance to return it.

"Bloody hell," Leah exclaimed, standing up from the couch.

"Woah, I didn't know you were so into tennis," Lia remarked, intrigued by Leah's intense reaction.

"It just frustrates me when they give away easy points during a match," Leah explained, which was partly true. Your unforced errors had contributed to your opponent's comeback in the set.

Leah let out a long sigh and sank back onto the couch. She couldn't relax until you managed to turn the match around and win the third set tiebreaker 7-4, securing your spot in the semifinals. You had come dangerously close to losing your spot in the semifinals.

Leah couldn't bring herself to try talking to you all day. It had been a dreadful match, one of the worst she had ever seen you play. Despite not knowing you that well, Leah figured you probably needed some space and didn't want to talk to anyone for a while. She had watched you storm off the court after the match, something she had never seen you do before. The heated exchanges with the chair umpire and the tense moments with your coach had been impossible to ignore. 

She had only mustered the courage to send a brief message: 

"Hope you're doing okay." 

But you hadn't responded yet.

So, when she was already tucked up in bed, half asleep, she was surprised to see an incoming video call from you.

"Y/N?" Leah replied, not looking at the screen as she fumbled to switch on her nightstand lamp.

"Shit, I didn't mean to wake you up." you apologized.

"I wasn't quite asleep yet," Leah said, finally turning her attention to the screen. "Are you okay?" she asked, sitting up in bed, noticing your slightly red and puffy eyes.

"Yeah," you lied, settling back on the couch and pulling your blanket up to your neck. "What about you? How was your day?"

"I just watched your match, which was horrible," Leah thought, feeling sorry for you, but instead she replied, "Not much. I just had dinner with some friends."

Leah couldn't help but smile as she saw your features relax at her answer. She knew you had probably anticipated her bringing up the match. You had mentioned how intense your day usually was: tennis talk at breakfast, tennis talk in the afternoon, tennis talk at dinner.

"Nothing too delicious," Leah continued. "Did you have dinner?"

You didn't respond verbally, instead, you shook your head and bit your lip, a sign of your struggle to hold back tears. Leah immediately noticed.

"I was running late and didn't feel like eating alone," you explained. "But my physio brought me a sandwich about half an hour ago. I'm just not hungry."

Leah frowned. She mentally calculated the hours since the match had ended at noon. Considering the disastrous game, you probably hadn't eaten afterward, and your stomach was likely empty except for breakfast.

"You should eat," Leah insisted gently.

"I don't want to eat alone, it's... depressing," you admitted, sinking further into the couch. Leah could barely see your mouth now, the blanket covering you.

"Okay, hold on," Leah said, letting out a sigh as she got out of bed. She placed the phone on her bed and reached for a hoodie. "Come on," she said, picking up her phone again.

You watched through the screen as Leah left her room and headed to her kitchen, leaving the phone on the counter.

"Okay, what kind of sandwich did you get?"

"Huh?"

"I'll eat with you," Leah explained simply, reaching for the bag of bread. "Well?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile. It was such a tender gesture, one that softened your heart. Leaning over to the coffee table, you picked up the bag your physio had left there. You hadn't even opened it yet.

"Let me see..." you said, pulling out the sandwich and reading the ingredients on the box. "Tuna, cucumber, mayonnaise, and salad cream."

"Ugh, not my favorite," Leah said, her face visible at the edge of the screen as she looked through her fridge.

"What's your favorite?" you asked, starting to unwrap your sandwich. Suddenly feeling your appetite return.

"I'm a ham and cheese girl. I like to keep it simple," Leah explained, already assembling her own sandwich.

"Sounds boring," you teased with a chuckle. Leah stuck her tongue out at you. "I prefer egg sandwiches. Probably the store didn't have any."

"What else did your physio get you?"

"Uh... a bottle of water and a bottle of juice."

"Orange?" Leah guessed, reaching for a box of orange juice.

"Yes," you confirmed, smiling as you watched Leah return to the couch, settled in just like you with a blanket on her lap. She held up her sandwich to the camera.

"Shall we eat?"

An hour later, you were in bed, with Leah still on the screen, tucked under her own sheets. The time had flown by as Leah passionately tried to convince you why Arsenal was the top club in London.

"Uh, according to Google, the men's team hasn't won a league since 2004," you teased in a mocking tone, enjoying Leah's furrowed brow and her stumbling attempts to defend her team. "And the women's team... maybe I shouldn't say anything," you added innocently, staring up at the ceiling.

"Oi! You're being mean!" Leah protested. "I just won a cup, you know?"

Of course you knew, you had seen the post on Leah’s instagram. 

"Winning a cup isn't quite the same as winning a league," you continued to tease.

"What would you know about it? You only just learned the difference between a cup and a league because I explained it to you," Leah retorted, though she couldn't help but crack a smile. Despite her attempt to feign annoyance, she couldn't shake the sense of relief seeing you in a better mood than an hour ago "You're such a headache sometimes.”

"Sorry," you said between laughs. "Well, I'd better get some sleep. Got an early start tomorrow."

Leah's heart sank at the reminder of your upcoming semifinal match. She knew you had pushed yourself to the limit today, both physically and mentally.

"Thank you," you added, catching Leah off guard.

"Huh?" Leah's brow furrowed in confusion.

"For not bringing that up," you explained, your cheeks tinted with embarrassment. "I really appreciate it... I just needed to talk to someone. And you're easy to talk to."

Leah's heart skipped a beat. 

"It was nothing. You can talk to me anytime, about anything, including that," Leah assured, offering you a warm smile.

You fell silent for a moment, your eyes closed. Leah almost thought you had drifted off to sleep until she heard your voice again.

"I've never won a semifinal match on grass," you confessed. "I hate playing on grass. I can't move like I want to, can't slide, the ball bounces weird... It's a faster game, and I don't like it."

Leah struggled to find the right words to comfort you, though it seemed you weren't seeking comfort. You just needed to vocalize your thoughts.

"Well… get some good rest," you said "Speak to you tomorrow."

"Sleep well," Leah replied softly, just before you disappeared from her screen.

Leah hadn't been able to watch your game; she'd been tied up with a radio interview in the afternoon. Perhaps it was a good thing, sparing her from witnessing what felt like a complete disaster.

You were trailing 1-0 after losing the first set 6-2.

"Y/N, listen up," Lucas's voice echoed in your head as you wiped your face with your towel. He sounded both concerned and frustrated. "You've got to get up to the net. Focus and do it just like we practiced this morning.”

The tension intensified in the second set, now tied at 3-3. Each point intensified, increasing the pressure on your already fatigued body.

Struggling to steady your breath and calm your racing heart, you attempted to regain your composure. Lucas's instructions only seemed to agitate you further. Your serves lacked accuracy and power, the weight of exhaustion settled in your arms and legs.

With your breath hitching, you turned to Lucas "Gotta keep your mouth shut," you muttered to him, before returning to your position on the court.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, trying to shut out your coach's voice which, instead of helping, was only adding to the overwhelming pressure and fear of failure creeping in. 

For a while, you felt completely disconnected from the game, just focusing on getting the ball back over the net and hoping for the best. Your ears felt muffled, you swung at balls in every direction, chasing after them when your legs allowed. It felt like your body was on autopilot.

When you finally regained control, you glanced at the scoreboard. It read 5-4, with the set tied at 30-30. Had you been playing for that long already?

"Just 2 more points and I'm out," you muttered to yourself, accepting the ball from the ball kid who hesitated a moment before returning to her position. Your emotional state must have caught her attention, you could feel tears welling up, but you refused to let them fall now. You couldn't afford to show weakness, not in front of them.

You adjusted your visor lower, not too concerned that it obstructed your view. After all, you were resigned to the inevitable defeat, recovering from this set, let alone the entire match, felt beyond your grasp.

Taking a deep breath, you served. Your opponent effortlessly returned the ball, and when you sent it back, she executed a perfect drop shot with spin. Despite your best efforts, your legs failed to get you to the net before the ball bounced a second time. 

All you could do was shake your head and chuckle at the brilliance of the shot. It was a damn good point.

The next rally was a bit longer. Determined to get at least a point, you decided to take a calculated risk. You placed the ball strategically close to the net, hoping to force your opponent into a difficult position. Yet, she managed to return the ball, forcing you to approach the net. Anticipating her move, you weren't surprised when the ball sailed over your head, landing just inside the line behind you.

And with that, it was over.

"Stay the hell away from me!" you shouted as Lucas and your physio entered the dressing room. You pointed your racket at him. "I don't want to hear a word from you!"

"Y/N, calm down," Lucas said, his brow furrowed in concern.

"I said no! Get out!" Tears streaked down your face, your voice raw with frustration. "You're the reason I lost!" you accused him, venom lacing your words as you vented on your racket, smashing it against the ground. "You told me to charge the net," you seethed, the anger palpable. "And what happens? She pulls off the damn shot of her life!"

Deep down, you knew it wasn't entirely his fault.

Lucas struggled to make out your words through your sobs and the racket's crashing impact. He signaled to your physio to grab your bag of remaining rackets before you decided to destroy another one.

"You need to cool off," your physio interjected, her tone firm.

"I need everyone to leave me the hell alone!" you yelled, throwing the shattered pieces of your racket against the wall in a burst of frustration.

Lucas shook his head and firmly guided you to sit on the bench. "Listen to me," he said,but you shook your head, lost in your thoughts. Frustrated, Lucas removed your visor and tossed it aside to get a clear view of your face, then gently tilted your chin to meet his eyes. "I said listen to me, kiddo."

You met his gaze, holding your breath. He looked visibly upset, his brow furrowed deeper than usual. Taking a moment to study him, you noticed the new wrinkles and more gray hairs, likely a result of the stress you often caused him.

"You played well today," he continued, his voice steady but firm, still holding your gaze. "But she played better. It's not a reflection of your performance, it's not about you playing badly. Can we improve? Absolutely. And we will, I promise you that. But for now, we need to stop."

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"You're drained," your physio chimed in. "Your body can't handle more. Your muscles are exhausted."

"And your mind isn't much better. Since the first game you've been clouded," Lucas added, sighing. "We're heading back to England first thing tomorrow."

"Eastbourne?" you asked. 

Lucas shook his head. "No, you won't be playing in any more tournaments until Wimbledon. I've made it clear, you need to stop," he said firmly, now taking a seat beside you. "We're heading to London. Your psychologist is already there."

You had resisted having a psychologist travel with your team for months, but now circumstances were different.

"You'll see the psychologist tomorrow and then you'll rest for a few days. Your rackets are off-limits," your physio said, your bag slung over her shoulder as she tried to lighten the mood. "Seriously, no tennis, not even for fun," she added quickly, when she saw you about to protest. "We'll focus on light gym sessions, nothing more. These are your days off, you'll do anything but tennis."

You nodded, feeling somewhat scolded, almost like a child.

As the tension eased, the reality of a few days off in London began to sink in.

"Leah," you muttered. 

"Huh? Did you say something?" Lucas turned to you when he heard your voice. You hadn't realized you had spoken aloud.

"What time is our flight?"

[alastor-simp]

Be My Valentine - Alastor x Female Reader

♥️HAPPY VALENTINES DAY EVERYONE! Also I know Alastor is AroAce, but lets just assume in this fic he is not. Enjoy♥️

It was finally Valentine’s Day in Hell, a little holiday that some demons enjoy doing with their partners and others that find it absolutely ridiculous, like a certain deer demon. Alastor didn’t much care for a silly little festivity like this. He found romance a bit ridiculous, but he wouldn’t go as far as to make fun of someone else in a relationship, it wasn’t who he was. He did find Charlie and Vaggie’s relationship adorable, since he saw how happy the two of them were together. The little sparks between Husker and Angel were easy for him to spot, and it led to lot of teasing at the hands of Alastor, which earned him a middle finger from a certain cat on occasions.

Since it was Valentine’s Day, Charlie thought it would be a great idea to decorate the hotel. Heart paper strings were hanging from the ceiling, along with XOXO and heart balloons on the walls. It wouldn’t be Valentine’s Day without some sweets, so Charlie along with Niffty made some chocolate covered strawberries and pretzels for everyone else to enjoy. You were trying to figure out how to help liven the mood. “Music would be nice” you thought. Heading over to the record player, you skimmed for any good songs to play. Frank Sinatra was what you picked, and you decided to play that. The melody began to carry out all throughout the lobby, catching everyone ears, causing them to sway. “Ah! Excellent choice my dear!” You heard Al’s voice call out from behind you. He was sitting on one of the chairs, with a hot cup of coffee in his hand, wearing a pleasing smile. Smiling back, you made your way over to the couch and took a seat, listening to the tunes.

Soon Charlie came running back, “Okay everyone! Ready to start the Valentine gift exchange!” Before the decorations were put up, Charlie suggested that everyone pitch in and do a Valentine gift exchange. The gifts would be exchanged between two individuals: Charlie + Vaggie, Angel Dust + Husk, Niffty + Sir Pentious, and You + Alastor. Everyone got together and presented the gifts. Charlie had given a bottle of perfume and new hair bow for Vaggie. Vaggie gave Charlie a unicorn plushie and T-shirt with their faces on them. Angel got Husk a fancy bottle of Italian wine. Husk gave Angel a popular perfume from the Lust ring plus some mini outfits for Fat Nuggets. Niffty had actually handmade mini plushies of Sir Pentious and his egg bois. Sir Pentious got Niffty some roses plus a new sewing kit.

Now it was time for you and Alastor to exchange gifts. While you did have something for Al, there was something else you wanted to give him, but it was a surprise. Alastor was smiling down at you, hands behind his back, holding a mini box and bouquet. “Here you are my dear!” He handed you the box and flowers. Ahh he remembered how much you loved (your favorite flowers). Thanking Alastor, you opened the box, which contained a beautiful ruby necklace

“W-ow Al! This is beautiful! Thank you.” Holding the necklace up, you looked up at Alastor, face flushed. “You’re welcome, my dear! Allow me!” Grabbing the necklace from your hands, he motioned his body behind you, helping to place the necklace around your neck. Turning back around, you pulled out your gift and presented it to Al, “Happy Valentines Day Al” Grabbing the black box with red ribbon from your hand, he opened it, revealing a new rose tinted monocle. He had broken the one he had before, and didn’t have the time to replace it. “Ah I needed a new monocle. Thank you kindly, y/n!” Smiling you nodded your head and faced back towards the others

Al looked into the box again and saw a little piece of paper that was placed underneath the monocle. Turning away, he took the paper out and read it:

“ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏꜰᴛᴏᴘ ᴀᴛ 8 ᴘᴍ”

Well well, what was this? Another surprise, perhaps? Smile widening on his face, He placed the paper in his suit pocket, before turning back to everyone like nothing happened. The day continued as normal, with everyone chatting about random topics and participating in some bonding activities like board games and watching some random romance movies. It soon gotten late and it was time for everyone to head to bed, or so you thought. The glances you saw between Charlie and Vaggie hinted that they were going to be doing something else. Even Husk and Angel dust, especially since you saw Angel dragging Husk into his bedroom, well good for them, they make a cute couple. Going to head up and finish your plans, your eyes caught Al who had looked right at you. You smiled and walked away.

**8 PM- Alastors POV**

"Hmm I wonder what the little darling has planned for me?” Al thought to himself, as he made his way to the location you told him in the note. Ascending up the stairs, Al arrived at the door that led to the rooftop and opened it slowly. His eye widen at what he saw. In front of him was a small dinner table with chairs, decorated with candles and roses.

He was left stunned by what he saw. Walking closer to where the table is, he admired the little set-up. "Do you like it?" Turning his head around, Al saw you standing there, wearing a flowy black dress, bright smile place on your face. Alastor looked back at the table, then at you, "Was this the little surprise you had planned for me? If you wanted to have dinner with me, all you had to do was ask, my dear." Alastor gave a soft smile, making his way to you, lifting your chin, "You look positively radiant, darling." His words caused you to flush, "T-thank you. Go and take a seat Al. I'll be right back," Alastor smiled and let you go, heading over to the chair to take a seat.

Soon, you came back holding two plates, the aroma wafting off of them was mouth-watering. Placing them down, the smile on Al's face had widen. In front of him was a tender venison steak, his favorite, along with a side of salad and baked potatoes.

After that, you had grabbed a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, and poured it into the wine glasses for both you and Al. Once everything was set in place, you slowly took a seat on the other side of the table. "This is my first time cooking venison, so I hope you like it." You fidgeted with your fingers under the table. "This looks spectacular! Thank you my dear!" He grabbed his wine glass and held it up in front of you, "Cheers, my dear!" Smiling, you grabbed your glass, bumping it against Al's, letting out a small clink. The both of you started to eat the meal you prepared, well you were watching Al more than eating, monitoring his reaction. You knew about his diet and what he mainly ate, so last thing you wanted was for him to try the venison you prepared and do a spit-take. The fork in Al's hand, held a piece of steak, and slowly it made its way into his mouth. The whole time you were sitting there, gazing at his reaction to see if he liked it. His expression didn't change, but he went back in for another bite, and another, and another. Heaving a sigh of relief, you were happy that he liked the meal, letting you go back to your meal.

Soon the both of you had finished eating, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Delicious!" Al said, wearing a pleasant smile. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Are you in the mood for some dessert?" You said as you got up from the table, and made your way over to grab the dessert that was hidden. Walking back, you placed a bowl of chocolate covered strawberries on the table.

"My dear, you know I'm not a fan of sweets." Al said to you, while looking at the bowl with strained face. "I made these myself using dark chocolate, so they won't be as sweet, trust me." Grabbing one of the strawberries, you held it up towards all, "Say ahh." Al raised an eyebrow at that, but he shook his head, amused at your actions, before taking a bite. Looking at him, you were expecting him to spit it out, but surprisingly he swallowed, "Not bad!"

Whew, glad he liked them. Now it was time to tell him what you were thinking/feeling. "Um Al? Can I ask you something?" Alastor looked at you, smiling like the joker. "Of course my dear! What is it?" He leaned in, placing his elbows on the table, lifting his head up with his hands. The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy, and your palms were sweating. Your eyes looked down at your hands, until you turned your head back up to look at Al. "W-will you be my valentine?" Alastor eyes widen at that statement, but he continued to gaze at you. Feeling nervous, you looked back down to your hands, "Y-you don't have to answer, I understand you find romance and stuff a hindrance." you said. The two of you were sitting in awkward silence, until you heard his chair scrap across the ground, indicating he had gotten up. You knew it, he was going to leave. You had made him upset.

A hand was placed under your chin, making you look up. Alastor hadn't left, he had only gotten up to get closer to you. "Stand up, my dear." He said to you. Moving slowly, you got up from your chair and stood in front of Al. He continued to look down at you, his eyes flashing crimson. Then he got closer, and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug. "What an adorable request! I must admit, developing relationships with another is still new to me. However! I wouldn't mind forming one with you, my dear. I accept!" He whispered all of this in your ear, causing goosebumps to form. Your eyes got teary, as you hugged him back. After a while, Alastor moved a bit, placing one hand under your chin, and the around your back. He had a small smile on his face and his eyes were soft. "Happy Valentines day, my doe." His head moved closer to yours, causing you to slowly shut your eyes, letting his lips press against yours in a soft kiss.

~END~

Tagging:

@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen, @aceofcards0-0, @jyoongim, @saturnhas82moons, @unholycheesesnack , @luujjvi, @forbidden-sunlight, @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping @danveration , @demoarah, @cookiekyo , @iiotic, @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie , @lokis-imaginary-friend , @themysteriousslenderman

[celestie0]

𝗍𝗈𝗃𝗂 𝖿𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝗈 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 | 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾 [𝟣𝟪 +]

𝖽𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾

ᰔ 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗃𝗂 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 (𝖿)

ᰔ 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒. 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗆𝗂 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗃𝗂 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝗏𝖾𝗌.

ᰔ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌/𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌. 𝟣𝟪+, 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖽 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑, 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝖾, 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒, 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄, 𝖽𝖾𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗌𝗌-𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝗅𝖿 𝗍𝗈𝗃𝗂

ᰔ 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌. 𝟫𝟦𝟤 (𝗅𝗂𝗅 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾)

𝖺/𝗇. 𝗇𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗒 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖽𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗈𝗃𝗂.

you and toji hardly have any moment to yourselves these days. by the time you’re finished cleaning up after dinner and toji’s done feeding megumi his dino chicken nuggets before eventually getting him to sleep, you’re both exhausted and can barely make it through the bedtime routine before falling limp onto your shared bed. it had been maybe longer than a week since you’ve both had any sort of intimacy, but tonight it seemed like the two of you had a little bit of energy to spare.

“mmmph…” you moan, hand gripping at the fabric of toji’s shirt. you were on top of him, lazily laying with your cheek pressed to his clothed chest, as he’s thrusting his hips up and fucking you agonizingly slowly with his strong hands grabbing at the flesh of your ass. he had your panties pulled to the side and silk nightgown bunched up over your hips. “love it…love it, toji…” you’re drawling, head tucked into the crook of his neck, his chin resting on top.

you feel his chest rumble with a noise. “yeah? really missed…fucking your tight little cunt, baby,” he’s groaning, giving you a firm pinch to the side of your hip that makes you gasp. you’re practically drooling on his chest, causing a damp spot on his shirt that’s soaking through to his skin. “wish i could just use you like this all day long. my little fuck doll.”

“mm you can...you can use me like this all day long,” you’re mumbling the permission, moving your hips to get some speed on toji’s thrusts but he draws his hand back and gives you a harsh slap to your ass.

“calm down. and i can’t, since you’re always so fuckin’ busy with megumi during the day,” he grumbles as he lifts your hips up so he’s almost entirely out of you, save for the tip, and then slowly pushes you back down onto him again. you’re almost crying.

“toji…cum in me. cum in me please,” you’re begging, grasping at his shirt until it’s wrinkled and ruined, trying to wiggle your hips free of his harsh grasp so you can bounce on him but he won’t budge.

“anytime i’m in you, it’s always ‘cum in me cum in me’ right away. when'd you get so impatient?” he starts to shallowly pump into you. “let me just fuck you for a damn minute,” he’s groaning, “needy little whore.”

you gasp, lifting your head up to look at him with narrowed eyes, and slap at his chest. “don’t call me that.” you hated when he called you a whore. slut was fine, but whore made your skin crawl.

his chest rumbles with a deep chuckle. “but isn’t that what you are? look at yourself, droolin’ all over me like a puppy. i’m hardly doing anything.”

you moan when he wraps his arms around your waist and starts to fuck upwards more decisively. “god, toji…d-doesn’t matter, mhh, i'm not a...whore.” you fall limp on top of him again, shamelessly doing no work at all in pursuit of your own pleasure as he lazily fucks you with no urgency.

“whatever you say, sweet thing,” he says and presses a kiss to the crown of your head when he hears you whimper. 

“t-toji…” you’re moaning, “will you give me another baby?” 

he lets out a confused huh? in-between his grunting and groaning as he pumps into you faster. “the fuck do you mean, ‘another baby’? the fact i’m fuckin’ you right now is a god given miracle considering that brat’s somehow sleeping through the night so far.” he slows down his pace again, making you squirm in his hold. “and yet you wanna have another one?”

you nod and look up at him from his chest. he looks down at you, his face strained from the pleasure but there’s a softness in his eyes. “mm…yea, i want more babies, toji.” you look at him with a helpless pout as you reach a hand up to cup his face. “put a baby in me. please?”

he’s groaning and you feel him twitch inside of you, his head falling back onto the pillow as his arms that were wrapped around your waist hold you to him even closer and he starts fucking up into you relentlessly. you cover your mouth with your hand to muffle your moans and vaguely register the profanities falling from his mouth until he’s shaking underneath you and his thrusts turn sloppy when you feel his warm cum spilling into you. you gasp from each harsh jut of his hips, and then he’s coming down from the high and breathing heavily. your upper body rises with his chest from every deep breath he takes as you lay on him.

“fuck…” he says it like he’s surprised. “don’t ever beg for me to put a baby in you ever again, unless you’re looking to raise a damn village. i don’t have that kind of self control.”

you smile up at him and give him a kiss on his chin, noticing his stubble. “flip me over please, hafta keep your cum in me for a bit.”

“shhh” he’s hissing at you, his mind going insane at the thought, then flipping you over and pulling out of you. and then there’s a quiet & gentle knock at the door. you both widen your eyes at each other before toji’s hiding you underneath the sheets and pulling his pajama pants up just in time for when the door cracks open, megumi’s little arm stretched up to reach the door handle as he stands at the entrance with his stuffed animal clutched in his other arm.

“daddy, i frew up.”

-------

𝖺/𝗇. 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽! 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗒𝗉𝗈𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗅.

[finelinevogue]

i love you more than dino nuggets

summary - the night before the final show

pairing : fiancé!harry x reader

word count : +2.3k

a/n : originally was going to include the show but i have another idea for that so i’m off to write that now !!! the title will make sense as you read😭😭

It was the final night before the last love on tour show and you’d already cried three times.

Once on the plane over to Italy. Once on visiting the stage being set up today at the stadium. And once, now, crying because of how overwhelmed you feel.

You were busy getting ready in your shared bedroom, whilst Harry entertained the rest of your friends and family downstairs.

The house Harry owned in Italy, that was soon to become yours too in a week, was a massive Roman inspired villa. The orange stone that the building was made of created a cool villa to live in and with over 12 bedrooms it was the biggest house Harry owned.

All of Harry’s family and friends were staying over here for the duration of the last love on tour show, and then also for your wedding next week.

Whilst some wondered why Harry would end the love on tour shows in Italy, when nothing would ever beat the homeliness feeling of Wembley, it was all because you were getting married here a week Saturday.

How could you not? The perfect background for a summers wedding, in yours and Harry’s favourite country.

“Babe?” Harry knocked on the door and enters before you answer.

“Yeah?” You sniffled, wiping your fingers under your eyes to clear the mascara marks.

“Wha— What’s with the tears, baby?” He asked with a laugh.

“I don’t even know!” You laughed, starting to cry all over again.

“Is it ‘cause the the cake decorator cancelled on us again? ‘Cause, babe, I promise you that I will bake the bloody thing myself.”

Harry came and sat next to you on the bed, handing you a handkerchief he pulled out of his blazer pocket.

Tonight was a big celebration for him and so you’d decided to all get dressed up and have one final supper all together. Harry was in a gorgeous black slate suit, with a basic white t-shirt underneath. You matched him with a simple black halter-dress.

“Turns out these suit tissues are useful for something.”

“Thank you.” You said, dabbing underneath your eyes.

“You’re going to make me cry before the night is up, I just know it.” He nudged you with his shoulder, causing you to fall into him.

You rested your head on his shoulder and let your hands fall into his lap. His arm came around your body and hugged you close, kissing the side of your head as he inhaled your coconut shampoo.

You sat in silence for a few moments, Harry’s fingers coming to play with yours. Twirling around each other until they find home in an interlocking movement.

“Can’t believe this is all real.” You said first.

“Babe, you’re only saying that because we watched The Truman Show the other day.” Harry chuckled.

“Don’t say things like that.” You playfully hit him, but Harry caught your hand before you can go for a second playful punch. “Y’know that my worst fear is this all not being real.” You mumbled.

Harry nodded his head.

“Then let me show you just how real this is.”

Harry pushed you to lay your back down on the bed, your legs still touching the floor from where you sat on the edge of the bed. Harry moved to hover over you and took your intertwined hands with him, moving them to link above your head.

A loose strand of hair tickled your forehead and Harry blew it away with a soft blow, making you smile.

“You’re so pretty.” Harry stopped to pause and just take you all in.

“I thought you were supposed to be showing me how we are real.” You sarcastically told him. The glint in his eyes told you just how cheeky he thought you were.

Harry didn’t waste another moment before kissing you. Your lips met his instantly and just like you’d been doing for the past five years, you kissed and kissed and kissed. You both knew when to bite or slow down and speed up. You were so in tune with each other.

When you started to pant slightly out of breath, Harry slowed down and moved his lips away from yours just a fraction.

“Breathe, baby.” He whispered against your lips.

“Mhm.” You tried to inhale some air.

“Was that real enough for you?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe we should try a—”

Harry’s lips pressed back against yours and he let go of your hands, because he knew you were itching to touch him.

Your hands went straight to his cheeks, pulling him in to guide his lips against yours, whilst his own hands remained gripped to the bed sheets as he held his weight up. You kissed him until both your lips were red and swollen.

A knock on the door is what interrupted you both.

“Fuck.” Harry mumbled, stuffing his head into your neck to hide from everyone else. Now that he’d had a moment with you, he didn’t want anyone else.

“H? Y/N?” The sound of Anne came through the other side of the door. “I know you two love each other, but you have people downstairs waiting for you.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle that you’d been caught making out by Harry’s mum. You felt like a teenager all over again.

“It’s not funny.” Harry pinched your sides playfully.

“Did y’hear me?” Anne asked.

“Yes muumm!” Harry replied, pretending like he was annoyed when in reality he could never be anything but kind to his mum.

“Be down in five, otherwise I’m coming in next time.”

Harry grunted and dropped his head back into your neck, softly kissing and biting at the skin he could find exposed down there.

“Harry stop.” You tried to push him off, laughing, but he was too heavy and you were too weak to fight him off. “I’m not having your mum come back.”

“It’s an empty threat, babe.” Harry continued to kiss your neck and it was heading straight for a hickey.

“Umm… Do you remember Christmas of 2020?”

Harry’s head shot up at that, smirking as he looked down at you.

“Be more specific.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed because he knew exactly what you were talking about, but was just too much of a tease and wanted to hear you say it.

“Your mum thought I was in pain, but it turned out I was just receiving head from her son. So thanks for that. It’s a memory that will haunt me forever.”

“What? Me eating you out?” Harry looked even more cheeky. “Well, I guess we’ll have to fix that.”

His hands shifted underneath your body as he moved down until he was knelt on the floor in front of your legs. You kicked him with your foot before he could lift your dress though.

“Harry Styles!” You scoffed. “Your entire family is downstairs. Stop it.”

You were well aware that you sounded like a teacher, or a scolding mother, but sometimes it was the only way to get him to stop his adolescent behaviour.

“You’re no fun.” Harry groaned and laid on the floor like you’d just shot him through the heart with an arrow.

“Don’t marry me then.” You said jokingly.

You shook your head and walked towards the door, heels clicking on the marble floor as you went. You brushed your dress down from creases.

You stopped in front of a full length mirror to check yourself out before you rejoined everyone downstairs. Everything was still set in place, despite the copious amounts of crying.

Harry came up behind you, having felt him before actually seeing him through the mirror.

He wrapped his arms underneath your armpits and squeezed you in a hug from behind. You tilted your head to one side of his body so he could plant a soft kiss on the skin you’d left exposed.

“I love you. And I can’t wait to marry you.” He kissed you again. “For you to be mine. Officially.”

“And you’ll be mine.” You turned your head and looked him in his eyes. They were so full of love, sparkling from the excitement you gave him.

“I’ve always been yours.”

His lips met yours once last time before you really did have to go downstairs.

Harry held your hand as you walked down the stairs together, occasionally checking that you were alright and that your heels weren’t going to make you fall.

Once you were down them, Harry immediately brought you into his side and had his arm around your waist. You copied his motion and followed him into the outdoor seating area.

Lots of long tables had been set up on the large patio for people to sit at, with an extra long table that was arranged with food and drinks for everyone here and an extra hundred people.

There was meats, fish, pasta, pizza and even veggie dinosaur nuggets that Harry had shipped from England just for you. For drinks there was everything from water to very expensive wine. Wine that come from the vineyards Harry has invested in around this area.

Everyone cheered when Harry and you finally turned up, many people already sitting down and tucking into their food and some people nursing glasses of fizz as they chatted.

The glow of the moon and the strings of hundreds of fairy lights made the atmosphere that little bit more special. There was some light piano music playing in the background and everything felt at peace with the world.

“I’m just going to go say to hi to a couple of people. Are you okay?” Harry asked you.

“‘Course. I’m starving and starting to get hangry.”

“Well nobody wants to see a hangry Y/N. Go on!” Harry shooed you along and you stuck up your middle finger at him. He watched you with admiration as you wandered off.

You made it to the buffet selection and happily see your dinosaur nuggets waiting for you. They even have a little sign on them that says ‘property of the lead singers fiance. don’t touch’ in Harry’s handwriting. Every minute he’s got spare he’s reminding people that you are soon to be forever each others.

You sit at a table with some of Harry’s relatives, chatting with them for a bit, before moving down the table to speak to your family.

You finished off your dinosaur nuggets and excuse yourself, wandering back inside the house and towards the freezer.

Opening it, you are amazed to find another three boxes of nuggets and you instantly fall a little bit more in love with Harry because of the simple action.

Your best friend, Ruby, meets you in the kitchen, as you’re turning on the oven to make more.

“Someone has been looking beautiful tonight.” She teased you, handing you over what must be your fourth glass of prosecco of the night.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” You laughed.

“Don’t be daft. No one is glowing more than you are tonight.”

“Not even H?” You challenged.

“I mean, yeah. But he’s only happy ‘cause you are.”

You blushed at her comment and take a sip of your drink. After the nuggets are in the oven, you sit on top of the granite kitchen island. Ruby clambered on after you, falling straight onto her back with how tipsy she is.

You laughed so hard that you ended up falling back too. Luckily the kitchen island is that big that you remain on it.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married next week.” You best friend says.

“Why does everyone keep focusing on that and not the final show tomorrow?” You wondered.

“Maybe because your wedding day is slightly more important than the end of Love On Tour.”

“I don’t think I see it that way.” You hummed at your own realisation. “They’re equal in importance. Tomorrow night is the biggest night of Harry’s career and it means a lot to me, therefore meaning a lot to me.”

“Girl, don’t tell me you’ve got cold feet.”

“No!” You blurted out, more sure of that fact than anything. “Never. I love Harry and I can’t wait for married life together.”

“But…?”

“But I think tomorrow night will be as equally as important to him and so it will be to me too.” You answered truthfully.

“Ugh. When did you get so sappy?” Your best friend teased you.

“Harry brings it out of me.” You gushed over your fiancé.

“You two are so sickeningly in love.”

“Don’t worry. Harry will give me my medicine later.” You attempted a bad joke.

“Okayyy….” Brad said as entered the room with a beer in hand. He’s been following your best friend everywhere she’s gone recently and you’re wondering whether he’s harbouring a little crush.

Both you and Ruby burst out laughing, you clutching onto your stomach from laughing so hard. Everything is so much funnier laying down too.

“What the fuck is going on in here?” Harry asked, smiling when he saw you laughing. He walked up Brad and slung his arm around his shoulder as they watched on.

“Mate I don’t even know. I don’t think I want to know.” Brad answered.

“Harry? Do you love Y/N?” Ruby asked.

“Yes.” Harry answered quickly.

“Y/N? Do you love Harry?”

“I doo!!” You shouted, laughing afterwards.

“They love each other! You’re now both wifed up.” Ruby announced.

“What?” You laughed. “Harry can’t be my wife.” You giggled.

“Oh yeah.” Ruby laughed and it set both of you off laughing again.

Harry shook his head at you both and nodded for Brad to handle Ruby whilst he handled you. Brad made sure Ruby didn’t fall over when he stood her up, announcing he was going to take her somewhere to lay down for a bit to calm down.

You felt Harry’s hands on yours as he pulled you to sit up.

Once you sat up you warmly smiled at him, cupping his cheek and leaning your forehead onto his.

“Hey, baby. Y’doing okay?” Harry asked and smiled at you.

“Mhm.”

“Your dino nuggets are ready if you want them.”

“Yes please.”

“Okay. Stay here for me.”

Harry arranged them on a plate and added some sweet chilli sauce on the side for you. He then came back over to you and stood between your legs.

He dipped a nugget in some sauce and held it up to your mouth. He blew on it to cool it down, only because he’d seen chefs on the TV do it, and waited for you to take a bite.

You hummed in delight as you bit into it. “Mm mm.”

“Nice?” Harry asked, wiping your mouth of crumbs with a nearby napkin.

“Thank you.” You nodded. “I’m excited for a life full of you and dino nuggets, Harry.”

“Do you love me more than dino nuggets?” He offered you another bite.

“Love you more than anyone or anything.” You finished chewing before speaking. “But veggie dino nuggets are the second love of my life.”

“As long as I’m the first.” He kissed your forehead.

Both of you were in the kitchen for another twenty minutes, talking about anything and nothing whilst Harry fed you. A few people had walked in, but had left you just as quickly to enjoy this quiet time together.

A couple of people had snapped photos of you too, which you would be thankful for later.

At the end of the night, after there was a mass of friends and family cleaning up and washing dishes, everyone retreated to bed.

Harry had been saying his rounds of good night before he had joined you in bed.

It was past midnight and you wanted time to slow down. It was unfair that the last show of love on tour has crept up so soon. How dare it.

You understood Harry needed some time to himself now though and start building more of a life outside of touring for himself. For starters, marrying you.

Harry sighed as he got into bed, peeling back the covers and immediately wiggling is way across the bed, over to your side, and spooning you from behind.

He kissed the back of your neck a couple of times, just because he could, as you wiggled in his hold to get comfortable again.

“Tonight was fun.” You said softly, speaking into the darkness and knowing it was only Harry who could hear you.

“It was. Tomorrow night will be even more fun.”

“It’ll be bittersweet.”

“Maybe.” His hands held yours. “But I’m getting tired, baby, and I just want a bit of rest now.”

“I know, bub. I’ll just miss it, is all.”

“You’ll always still have me, though. I’m not going anywhere.”

You turned around in his hold, facing him and resting your faces so close that your noses were touching.

“I’m here to stay too. Forever yours when that ring gets put on me next week, baby.” You tell him, smiling a little too much at that comment.

“I… I think I’m going to play something for you tomorrow. Something i’ve never done before.” He sounded nervous telling you.

“Just for me?”

“Everything’s always for you. This piece will especially be.”

“Can’t wait.” You leaned in and pecked his lips so he could taste your excitement. “You’re going to be amazing.”

“I’ll be sad it’s over, but more than ready to step off the stage and down the aisle instead. That’ll be the best day of my life.”

[cevansbrat0007]

Request: Andy Barber & Baby Girl having sex during a thunderstorm.

Through the Storm

Summary: Andy helps you overcome your fear of thunderstorms.

Warnings: Astraphobia, Smut, Anxious Reader, Dominant Andy, Manhandling, Fingering, Spanking, CMNF (Clothed Male, Nude Female), Safe Sex, Cuddles, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Finally finished this WIP! This request takes place early in Andy and Reader's relationship. Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series, but can also be read as a standalone. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

You stare out into the backyard, watching sheets of slanted rain pelt against your boyfriend’s newly installed patio. While it wasn’t much, it was enough to give the compact enclosed space the cozy feel it had long been missing. You’d even helped him with the landscaping, much to your chagrin. 

Andy had been quick to learn that while you enjoyed gardening you were also terrified of virtually all things creepy crawly, like bees. Especially bees. Your man hadn’t known what to make of that one, which had certainly made for an entertaining afternoon. 

A loud crash of thunder suddenly booms overhead, startling you so bad that you nearly drop the bottle of water in your hands. You fucking hated thunderstorms, a fun little nugget that you had yet to share with the man who was currently waiting for you to join him upstairs. 

Truth be told, you hadn’t even planned on staying over tonight. You were supposed to be home by the time the storm rolled in, tucked away safe and sound on your couch. All the while clutching your stuffed bear, Mr. Sprinkles, for dear life and watching your favorite comfort films until Mother Nature decided she was done with her tantrum.

But dinner with friends had gone long and then the show had started late. Well, the dinner itself hadn’t actually been with friends – more like one of his work colleagues. But the guy’s wife had been nice enough. And after enjoying one last round of drinks, you four had wandered across the street to take-in a production of Aladdin on Broadway. 

Of course musicals weren’t really your thing, but since it was a childhood favorite of yours you’d been all for it. Your boyfriend didn’t know how much of a Disney fan you really were. Which was okay. Because he was older, more mature. And as such, you always tried to come off more sophisticated than what you actually were.

He’d already been married once before and had a child. One he’d lost a few years back. You two had yet to actually have a true conversation about that one but you were almost certain it was coming.

It had to be, right? Because it wasn’t like you both could skirt around the topic forever. But, at the same time, it’s also not like you could be the one to bring up. Like, how would a conversation like that even go? 

Exactly. It wouldn’t. Because you couldn’t. It wasn’t your place. 

So, you would allow that door to remain shut for as long as it took to allow him to open it and guide you through. You could be patient. 

Alright fine. You would make yourself be patient. And until then you would keep trying to demonstrate the right amount of emotional maturity needed to prove that you could be a good partner and support system. Or at least a little worldlier than you probably came off.  

But all of that would be pretty hard to do if Andrew Barber knew that you were secretly afraid of thunderstorms. He wouldn’t get it and you would only end up tripping all over yourself if you tried to explain. Which meant that you had to make a decision.

Either you could be brave and climb the stairs so you could crawl into bed – his bed – wearing nothing but a pair of panties and one of his oversized t-shirts. Or you could sneak upstairs, grab your clothes, and dash out your man’s front door into the night like a madwoman and hope that he would be too stunned to chase you down. 

“Whatcha doin’ down there, Baby Girl?” Andy bellows from up above, making you jump.

“Noth–coming!” You shout back as you pad towards the stairs, still trying your best to devise a plan. Andrew Barber was deceptively fast, which meant running was out. So you were most likely gonna have to suck it up until he fell asleep and then you would be free to tremble in peace. 

The city’s hottest attorney could not know that he was dating the world’s biggest scaredy cat. If he ever found out, you might never recover from the embarrassment.  

You find yourself holding your breath as you round the corner before stepping inside Andy’s bedroom. Your man looks up from his phone when he notices that you’ve finally joined him. A warm smile spreads across his handsome features as he leans back, allowing his big body to relax against the frame. 

“Thought I was gonna have to come looking for you.” His husky purr sends a tiny shiver coursing through you, all the way down to your toes.  

“Uh, nope. Here I am.” Your eyes stray towards your overnight bag nestled innocently in the corner. Because if you weren’t mistaken you were also beginning to sweat. “But I was thinking that maybe I ought to – nooope!” 

An loud, unexpected clap of thunder has you diving towards the bed with a shriek. You seek refuge under the blankets, ignoring the sounds of a bewildered Andy calling your name. He tries to lift up the edge of the comforter, but you refuse to let go. 

At this point, you have no desire to acknowledge just how ridiculous you were being at that very moment. Because you were scared.

And also a smidge mortified.

“Um, honey..?” Andy works to keep his tone light. “What’s going on?” He pauses briefly as one big hand comes to rest on what he assumes must be your head. “Are you okay?”

“Yep!” You squeak out, clutching the blanket even tighter around you. “But I’m also really, really sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Again he tugs at the edge of your makeshift shield, prompting you to try and roll away. “You haven’t done anything – can you at least look at me? Please.”

“Um, I…I don’t think so. No.” Your words come out slightly muffled.

You’re rewarded with a heavy sigh followed by a brief moment of silence. Although you’re not sure what you expected him to say, you’re still surprised by what comes next.

“Well, if you won’t come out, then I guess that means I’ll just have to come under there then, won’t I?”

Fine by you. Because you were pretty sure that you were only seconds away from dying of embarrassment anyhow.

“Kay.”    

“Let me in, princess.” 

Relief fills him when he sees you finally relax your grip. Seconds later he joins you under the blankets, cocooning you both within the plush softness.   

“Hey.” Andy breathes as his eyes strain to adjust to the light.

“Hey.”

As if of its own accord, one of his hands reaches over to gently brush your curls away from your face. A quiet sigh makes its way past your lips as you feel yourself melting into his touch. In a way it acted as an unspoken reminder. 

You were safe with this man. Which meant it was time to fess up. 

“Umm…” He makes an exaggerated show of looking around. “Why are we hiding?”

“Because.” You whisper, only to flinch when another crack of thunder echoes above. 

“Because?” Your man drags out the word. “Because what? Are you–?” He cuts himself off before trying again. “I’m gonna guess that all this has something to do with the storm. Am I somewhere in the ballpark?”

His question has hot tears pricking the backs of your eyes.

“I don’t like it.” You croak before giving into temptation and burying yourself in his tattoo-covered chest. “In fact, I hate it.” 

Good Lord, you sounded so pitiful right now. 

“The…storm?” 

“All of it.” You confirm as you begin to tremble ever so slightly. “The lightning, the thunder, the heavy winds, the sound of the rain. S’too much.”

“I see.” Is all he says, even as his hand goes to rest on the small of your back, rubbing in easy, soothing circles. 

“I’m sorry.” You feel even worse when the tears spill over onto Andy’s bare skin. 

“Hush.” Comes the soft-spoken command, drawing you flush against his much larger body. “There’s no need to be sorry. I just wish you would’ve said something earlier. Is that why you were so adamant about going home tonight?”

“Mmhm.”

But then your handsome ogre just had to go and be difficult.     

“And I convinced you to stay.” Andy huffs out a disappointed breath at the same time as he drags his knuckles along your spine. “I should’ve noticed something was wrong. All I could think about was how much better I sleep whenever you’re next to me.” You can tell he’s annoyed now – not with you – but with himself. “Should’ve thought to ask why you seemed so skittish.” He drops a brief kiss on the top of your head.   

“Andy…”

“I’m sorry, Baby Girl.” He grunts, pulling away so that he can get a good look at your face. “No–” He continues when you open your mouth to interrupt. “I should’ve been paying better attention. That’s on me.” He takes a moment to whisper his sensual, full lips over your own. 

“It’s okay.” You assure him before pressing a tender kiss on his left pec, just above his heart. “I probably should’ve said something earlier. It was just…I guess I was embarrassed.” You finish with a shrug. 

“Why?” He cocks his head to the side as he patiently waits for you to answer. Although it was hard to read his expression in the dark, you knew he was genuinely curious. 

“Because it’s a stupid.” You mumble a few seconds later. “It’s stupid and I’m stupid for–”

“No it’s not.” Andy swiftly interjects. “And no you’re not. So please let that be the last time I hear you refer to yourself that way.” His gruff tone leaves little room for argument, not that you were in the mood anyway. Seconds later, another clap of thunder, followed by a flash of lightning, has you diving back into the safety of his arms.

“Fuck.” Pissed at himself, he quickly wraps his arms around you before gently rocking you back and forth in an effort to calm you down. “When did it start?” More thunder booms overhead the whole house, loud enough to shake the whole house. 

Andy frowns when he hears the tiny whimper that escapes your throat. .   

“It’s silly.” You warn, even as you close your eyes and force yourself to take a deep breath. 

“Try me.”

He’d stay up all night if that’s what it took to get you to talk. The last thing he wanted was for you to shut down on him. Again.  

“Please.”

Guess that was your cue to start spilling your guts. 

“Wh–when I was a little girl, I couldn’t have been more than six or seven, there was this really bad storm. I mean later we would find out that tornadoes had touched down all over the region. But that night – I swear the rain was coming down so hard it sounded like hundreds of baseballs were being pelted against the roof. And the wind was blowing so hard that it kept rattling windows.”

“Mmhm.” The small, noncommittal sound rumbles from somewhere deep within his chest, spurring you forward. 

“So my dad woke us all up, me and my siblings, and herded us down to the basement. I guess he’d been watching the news and figured we’d be safer there. My mom had laid out blankets and sleeping bags for us. At first it seemed kinda fun – almost like we were camping out.”

Another bright flash of light briefly illuminates the bedroom, but you’re too engrossed in your story to really care. Plus, you had Andy to keep you safe. Nothing bad ever seemed to happen when you were with Andy.

At least not so far. 

“I could see that.” Your boyfriend affirms, before giving your hip a light squeeze. “Bet you probably had a cool sleeping bag.” 

“I totally did. I actually had one of those Disney character sleeping bags.” The memory makes you smile as your initial anxiety begins to lessen. “Come to think of it, we all did. But mine had Genie from Aladdin on the front of it. I remember because I got to pick it out myself.” 

“I knew I had the right idea when I invited you out tonight.” Andy muses, brushing his mouth against your curls once more. 

“Yeah, Big Man. I’m a Disney girl. And I sure did love that sleeping bag.” You take a moment to lace your fingers through his, needing the connection. “Which was why I climbed right on in and let my mother zip me up. At that point, I think my little sister started crying or something, so I let her crawl inside with me. After that she went right to sleep.”

“But I’m guessing you didn’t.”

“Nope.” Your grip on his hand tightens, but your man doesn’t pull away. Even so, you allow your thumb to sweetly caress along the ridges of his knuckles. “I stayed wide awake for what felt like hours just…listening. Listening as the wind picked up, as the thunder got louder and louder. Until it became so loud that it sounded like the storm was happening right above our house. And then suddenly there was this crash that shook the entire house – almost like a bomb went off.”    

“Listen, I know sometimes storms can seem–”

“It was a tree.” You quietly forge on. “The storm had knocked down a tree. It fell through the roof, into the room I shared with my sister. Of course nobody was hurt, but ever since then I’ve been terrified of thunderstorms.” You finish, somehow feeling even more foolish than when you’d first started. 

“Holy shit.” Andy exhales before briefly nuzzling your nose with his own. It was a simple stress touch, nothing more. But at this particular moment, it means everything. “I mean, I’m sure this probably goes without saying, but I’m so glad you weren’t in there when it happened. You or your sister.”

Wordlessly you nod, still wishing that you’d found a way to make it home tonight after all. Come tomorrow you’d finally bite the bullet and start looking for a therapist. Perhaps it was finally time you found a way to move past some of your childhood trauma. And maybe then–

Your thoughts are interrupted by the deep, rich timbre of Andrew Barber’s voice. 

“I’m afraid of clowns.” Your boyfriend grunts in a very matter of fact tone. “And spiders.” He tacks on with a slight grimace. “Can’t get near either one of them without breaking into hives.” 

“Oh.” Is all you can manage, clearly surprised by his sudden openness. You hadn’t been expecting that at all. “So I‘m guessing anything to do with Pennywise is probably – ahh shit!” You cry out when the familiar sound of thunder makes you lose your train of thought, leaving you unable to finish your small attempt at humor.

Almost immediately, you feel two strong arms band themselves around your waist, drawing you closer even as you try your damnedest to scramble away. You throw off the covers before attempting to swing your legs over the side of the bed so that you can make a mad dash in the direction of the basement.     

“Hold on, baby.” Andy growls, wincing when your elbow accidentally connects with his ribs. “Just settle down for a second, okay? We’re gonna get through this, I promise.”

“Nope – I’m good! Just let me go, please.” Instead of doing as you ask, he flips your bodies, using his considerable weight to keep you still. “I’m serious, Andrew!” You tell him, thumping his back with your fist for good measure.

“Hush.” He takes advantage of your positions long enough to glide his lips along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “Just focus on me – on us – and let everything else fade away.”

Hmph. Easier said than done, handsome.

Andy gifts you with a glimpse of his pearly white teeth before slanting his hungry mouth over your own. He moans into the kiss, gently sucking on your bottom lip and releasing it with a slight pop. When you don’t respond he does it again, this time tracing the curve of your lips with his sinful tongue. 

“But what if –.”

“Shh.” Your boyfriend pauses his sensual assault long enough to stare down at you while he braces himself on his forearms. “You have my word that nothing bad is gonna happen while I’ve got you here, with me, in this bed. We’re safe, Baby Girl.” He then angles his head to nip along your jaw. “Let me show you.”  

“Do you trust me?” Where had you heard that before?

“I…” You trail off as he continues to nip at your heated flesh, paying special attention to the sensitive shell of your ear. “Y–yes.”

“Good.”

Apparently that’s all the permission Andrew Barber needs, because the next thing you know he’s sliding one large hand up your thigh, his lightly calloused palm sending pinpricks of pleasure straight to your core. Seconds later, you both are treated to the sounds of tearing fabric. 

Well, there went your panties. They’d been shredded to hell just like every other pair that went before it. 

Next up is your shirt. He manages to whip it over your head with relative ease before resting his delicious weight on top of you once more. Clad in only his boxers, he makes a show of grinding rapidly hardening cock against your damp pussy.

“Andy.” You whine, wantonly arching your hips in time with his thrusts. “Don’t tease me right now.”

“Why not?” He purrs as a hand moves to fist itself in your hair, wrenching your head back with just enough force to make you feel dizzy with lust. 

Reaching up, you capture his face between your hands to pull him down for another kiss. The scruff of his neatly trimmed beard feels so good against your skin.

“Fuck me, please.” You hiss, seeking a much needed distraction as a flash of lightning threatens to send you running for the hills. Since this man wouldn’t let you leave, your next best option was to let him bury his thick cock inside you so hard and so deep until you no longer had the capacity to think. 

Or walk properly, for that matter.

“Your wish is my command, baby.” Your boyfriend groans as he continues to circle his hips. With that said, he then makes quick work of removing his boxers before tossing him aside in the direction of his hamper. He misses, of course. Which is why you silently vow to pick it up later.

Now freed from its confines, you watch Andy’s impressive manhood immediately spring to attention, lightly smacking his abdomen as it bobs up and down.

Good God, you’d be lying if you said the sight didn’t make your mouth water.  

His mouth curves into a roguish grin as he purposely slides himself between your slippery folds. He revels in your wetness, loving the way your slick coats his aching cock. Shit – if he wasn’t careful he risked blowing his load before it was time. 

Which absolutely would not work. You always came first. That was the rule. There were no exceptions, unless you were playing a game or something.

Reaching over you, Andy grabs a foil packet from his nightstand. Tearing it open with his teeth, you lean back on your elbows while he handles his business with the condom. Maybe next time he’d allow you to put it on for him. You’d always wanted to try…

You also weren’t quite sure of exactly when he’d gone and removed his boxers, but you also weren’t complaining either.         

“Now, sweetheart.”  Your man begins as he takes a hold of your calf, tenderly draping it over his muscled shoulder as the wheel continues to howl outside. “All you’ve gotta do is lay back and focus on how good you feel.” He leans forward so that he can trace his tongue around your nipple before sucking the delicate flesh into his waiting mouth.  

Your back bows as you thrust your chest forward in silent offering. Andy groans as continues to toy with your pouting nipple before switching to the other. You let out a sharp cry as he brings the pebbled tip in his mouth, lightly pinching it between his teeth just hard enough to make you writhe beneath him. 

That’s part of what always made this feel so good. The way he always seemed to mix pleasure with a little bit of pain. 

His mouth eventually finds yours again as your hands smooth their way over the blades of his shoulders, allowing you to run your fingers along the contour of his muscles. And when you finally reach the firm globes of his ass, you can’t help but giggle as you finally give into the temptation to smack it. Hard.    

Just the way he liked it.

“Remember, sweet brat. If I’m gonna wear your handprint then I think it’s only fair you wear mine too. Understand?” Of course he doesn’t wait for you to answer. Instead he maneuvers himself up so that he can expertly flip you over onto your stomach before pulling you up so that you’re now resting on your hands and knees before him. 

Instinctively you arch your ass in the air, inviting him to make good on his promise. This man loved spanking your ass every chance he got. And what’s more, you seemed to enjoy it almost as much as he did.

“Now be a good girl and put your hands where they’re supposed to go.” 

A small shiver of anticipation courses through as you move to obey. He chuckles softly as he watches your eager fingers grip the headboard. Later he would tell you how proud of you he was in that moment, that he was honored by your faith in his ability to distract you from the violent storm taking place right outside his window.

It meant the world that you trusted him enough to take care of you at a time like this. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” Andy purrs as the heavy weight of his palm comes down on your upturned rear with just enough force to make your naughty pussy gush. Unable to stop it, you can’t help the groan you emit when he does it again, loving the way he kneads and caresses your most intimate curves.  

“So are you.” 

Your body jerks when he decides to focus his attention on your greedy little cunt. Nimble fingers spear you open as they between your glistening folds to tease your throbbing clit. It’s not long before your hips begin moving in time with his ministrations. 

Soon your eyes flutter closed as you bear down, shamelessly grinding yourself against his calloused palm. At first, Andy is content to simply watch as you slowly work yourself into a frenzy.

Because this time, when the sound of thunder crackles throughout the room, you barely react. In fact, you hardly hear it. You’re too engrossed in the pleasure, too caught up in just how good your man is making you feel, to remember to be afraid. 

“Easy, greedy girl.” Andy hums after another beat goes by before finally removing his hand. The fucking bastard.

“Nooo!” You whine, hating the way your impending orgasm lingers just out of reach.

"Yeees.” There’s a slight mocking edge to his tone that has you glancing over your shoulder to shoot him a glare. 

“Swear to God you’re so fucking beautiful. Even when you’re trying to turn me into dust.” He winks at you then before allowing his hands to settle on your hips. Goosebumps pebble across your sweat-dampened flesh when you feel the head of his impressive cock nudge at your entrance.

“Please.Please.Please.” That one word is whispered over and over, like a fervent prayer. 

Just then, a stroke of lightning brightens the room, treating you to a fleeting glimpse of your man right as he thrusts himself inside of you, all the way to the hilt. Your eyes threaten to roll back in your head as he forces you to take every deliciously thick inch of his cock, stretching your tight pussy until you can’t help clench around him.     

Andy starts off slow, gradually building up the pace as your velvety walls continue to milk him for all he’s worth. His fingers dig into your curves as you rear back to match his movements. Soon, he adjusts the angle of his thrusts, allowing him to go even deeper. 

“S’good, Andy!Fuuuck!” You moan as Andy continues fucking you into oblivion. “Yes!Harder, pleeease!”

“My baby wants it harder?” He growls, adjusting his position to give you exactly what you asked for. A desperate sob bubbles up from your throat, prompting you to bury your face in a nearby pillow.

Too bad your man is having none of it.        

“Oh no.” One large hand moves to wrap itself around the delicate column of your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your pulse spike. “You don’t get to hide that pretty face from me. Not tonight.” He grunts before allowing his free arm to encircle your waist to haul you against the hard wall of his chest. 

A hand soon finds its way to your breast. He lifts the tempting weight, before plucking at your nipple with his thumb and forefinger, evoking the most exquisite sensations. 

“You’re doing so good, Baby Girl.” Andy rasps, tweaking his angle so that he can find your spot. “So good. Told you I’d keep you safe.” The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh echo throughout the room, creating an erotic tempo. “Would never let anything bad happen to you.” 

Your boyfriend’s Boston accent grows thicker and more pronounced with each passing second – letting you know that he’s close to losing control. That’s when you decide to push him closer to the brink by reaching behind you to pull his head down for a kiss. It’s hot, wet, and deep. And by the time you both come up for air your heart is hammering in your chest. 

“I…I know.” And you did know.

Tipping your chin back, you allow your walls to flutter around his fat cock, making him twitch. Your core begins to spasm as you feel the coil in your belly tighten even more. Andy makes sure to keep a tight hold on your sweat-slicked body as his lips continue to whisper kisses along the curve of your jaw.  

White hot pleasure dances along your skin, meanwhile Andy’s thrusts continue to grow more and more erratic with each passing minute. One of your hands slips from the headboard to help keep you upright. 

“Cum, princess. Give it to me.” He snarls through clenched teeth before reaching down to deliver a slap to your pussy. It feels so good that you beg him to do it again and again. “Be a good girl and fucking cum!”

That’s all you need to hear before you go tumbling over the edge and into bliss. “Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!” Ecstasy slices through you, making you cry out loud enough to wake the neighbors. Thank goodness there was a storm going on outside, otherwise someone might’ve taken it upon themselves to call the police.  

Chest heaving, you continue bouncing on your man’s cock. He felt so amazing it bordered on obsession. And you knew he’d feel even better once you had him in your mouth. Andy shudders behind you, his big body trembling with the force of his orgasm.  

Completely spent, you both flop down on the bed. You’re both naked and sweaty, but neither of you really cares all that much. You curl up in his arms, resting on his chest so that you can listen to the soothing sound of his heartbeat. 

“You okay?” Andy murmurs a little while later when he notices that your eyes have begun to droop. “Do you need me to–”

“Mm…” You purr, stretching your arms above your head as you stifle a lawn. “I’m thinking I need some more of that. Like tonight.” 

You grow quiet once you realize that you no longer hear the sound of the rain. Or the wind. Or the thunder. All is as it should be. Thank goodness.

“Give me ten minutes to refuel and I’m all yours.” He grunts before disposing of his used condom in a nearby garbage can.. 

“Thank you.” You mumble, feeling your cheeks heat. “For tonight, for what you did.”

“Not sure if I did much of anything.” Andy smiles down at you, his brilliant blue eyes filled with sincerity. “You’re always safe with me, princess. So just relax."

“I believe you, Andy. But the storm –"

“Is about over. We fucked right through it, baby.” You don’t have to look up at him to know that he’s got some kind of shit-eating grin plastered across his handsome features. "But most of all, thank you for trusting me with your secret.”

“Thank you for not laughing.“ Your hand reaches up to stroke your knuckles along his bearded jaw. 

“Hm.” Andy mutters. “Maybe next time we’ll have to try making love in the rain. What do you think, princess?”

“Um, baby steps, Andrew.” You counter, expertly dodging his first question. “Let’s go smaller. I’m talking waaay smaller.”

“Fine. I’ll settle for a kiss during a light drizzle.” Your boyfriend concedes, laughter and warmth suffusing his tone. 

“Consider it done, handsome.” You mumble as sleep threatens to overtake you.

Later, Andy would tell you that he let you fall asleep that night on purpose. Your earlier anxiety had really done a number on you, which is why he was content to let you rest. Instead of complaining, he holds you close, silently willing his heart to beat in time with your own. 

And when you wake in the middle of the night, cocooned in the safety of your man’s arms, you know without question that you are cherished beyond measure.

END

[livelaughlou]

Tommy with a headache being pampered by Buck. Maybe featuring a purring old rescue cat with the dumbest possible name you can come up with.

Okay, dear. I hope this works for you. 😊

Buck’s just pulling the laundry out of the dryer when his phone goes off in his pocket. Straightening, he pulls it out and sees it’s a text from Lucy.

Hey, you may wanna come get your boy. He’s got a migraine and is pretending he doesn’t.

Damn. Buck had thought Tommy looked a little off this morning, but he’d insisted he was fine, just tired. Figures he’d have a migraine coming on. He doesn’t get them often, but when he does, they’re a doozy.

On my way, he texts back. He doesn’t even bother changing out of his sweatpants and hoodie he’s actually pretty sure is Tommy’s. He doesn’t know anymore, since moving in together, their clothes have become mixed with no room to figure it out. He tells Nugget to behave as he walks out the door.

He gets to Harbor forty-five minutes later to see Tommy leaning against a wall, still in his LAFD pants and t-shirt. Buck would take a second to stare at his arms if he didn’t look so miserable. Lucy waves at him from where she seems to be holding Tommy up while also nudging Tommy in the shoulder. When he looks up at Buck, he manages a smile but Buck can see his face is pinched in pain and he’s squinting in the sunlight. He grabs the extra pair of sunglasses in the glove compartment and hops out.

“Hey baby,” he says sympathetically as he gently fits the sunglasses over Tommy’s eyes. “Did you feel this bad this morning?”

“It kind of started this morning,” Tommy admits. “But I hoped it wouldn’t get worse.”

“You so stubborn,” he says, rolling his eyes at Lucy who matches it with a smirk. “Come on, let’s get you home and into bed.”

Tommy goes without argument, or even snarky comment about being coddled, so Buck knows he must feel like shit.

Once they’re home, he gently pulls Tommy out of the jeep and gets him into the house, sitting him on the end of the bed.

“Do you want pajamas?” Buck asks softly, knowing loud noises can make it worse.

“No,” Tommy says. “Clothes off.”

“Okay,” Buck answers. He helps Tommy gets out of his t-shirt and pants, leaving him in only boxer briefs and as Tommy lays back against the pillows, Buck rushes around and closes all the blinds in the room. “Cool compress at least?”

“Yeah,” Tommy whispers, though Buck can see the pain in his face lightening a little as the room darkens. “That would be good.”

Buck leans down and kisses his forehead before going into the en-suite bathroom to dampen a washcloth. Working his way back into the bedroom, he places it gently on Tommy’s forehead just as Nugget hops on the bad.

“Hey, bud,” Buck says to the ancient cat. They’ve worked up a tentative truce since he moved in, but the cat is definitely devoted to his person.

He watches as Nugget curls up against Tommy’s side as Tommy curls a hand on the cat’s stomach, giving him a little scritch.

Buck smiles, leans down and kisses his forehead again. “Get some rest.”

“Mmm, where you goin’,” Tommy mutters.

“I was gonna go finish the laundry,” Buck answers, running a hand through his hair. “I kind of left it all in the laundry room.”

“Lay with me,” Tommy says and there’s a tiny note of pleading in his voice and damn, this man has him wrapped around his finger.

“Okay,” Buck whispers. He settles in on the other side so he and Nugget are bracketing him and Tommy sighs contentedly.

“Love you,” Tommy says as he drifts off and Buck smiles.

“Love you too.”