#thanks vaseline for smoothing my lips

[doeeyeddyke]

it's kinda crazy how much a shower and a decent nap can do for you. like i'm not suddenly cured or motivated or in love with my life or anything but i feel lighter and don't want to throw myself out the window anymore. and that doesn't sound like much but when i think about it, internally it's a significant change. today thought i might die from the weight of the sheer emptiness inside me and now. i'm not like not empty anymore but. there's a difference between the emptiness of an all consuming void and the emptiness of a room with no people. the room has an open window and a touch of a light breeze makes the sheer curtains flutter a bit btw

[emilys-bangs]

cherry lips l e.p

Tags: fluff, first kiss, getting together, r has a lip peeling problem (bc I do too), teeny tiny mention of blood (from the lip peeling), no use of yn

Summary: Tired of seeing you pick at your lips, Emily gives you some lip balm. That proves to be a mistake.

Word count: 1.5k

“Here.” Emily throws a stick of lip balm at you. 

It falls on your lap and you give her a confused frown. She barely holds back an eye roll; your fingers are currently pinching a rough patch of skin on your lip—the rest is already peeled off—and when you drop your hand to pick up the chapstick, she catches a smear of blood on your thumbnail.

It really is such a shame. 

You have the most beautiful lips; kissable and soft looking and she’s so often gripped with the urge to lean forward and press her own to yours, test out that softness for herself.

But you have a bad habit—you pick at them constantly, your nails catching on rough skin and peeling it off, leaving behind bright red marks that are sometimes painful to look at. It doesn’t make you any less beautiful to her—god, she wished it did—but sometimes she takes pity on those poor lips of yours. And when she was shopping for some mid-week groceries last night, she couldn’t help but toss the chapstick in her cart.

She won’t be thinking too hard about why she did that.

“Really?” You ask, turning the chapstick over between your fingers, biting your lips to hold back a smile.

Emily’s heart trips when you look up at her with a quirk of your brow; she’s usually good at reading you, but right now she can’t tell if you’re amused or exasperated.

“Since you obviously don’t own one,” she quips, sitting down on the edge of your desk. You roll your eyes and run your thumb over the plastic tube, your nail dragging over the white lettering on the side.

Cherry.

Emily definitely didn’t choose that because it’s her favorite, and she most definitely didn’t choose it because she wants to see how that shade of red would look on your lips.

“I do,” you scoff, unthinkingly bringing your other hand to your mouth. Emily grimaces as you start tearing at the skin, insistent on peeling it off.

“Hey, stop that,” she swats at your hand. You frown as your hand drops to your lap. “Put some Vaseline on or something,” she says, her brow creasing at the blood slowly blooming on your lip, “or some of that chapstick you definitely own.”

She looks at you expectantly and you huff. “Smartass.” You mutter as she turns and snatches a tissue from Reid’s desk.

Emily arches her brow as she extends it to you. “Thank you, Emily, for giving me something I so desperately needed. Oh, no problem, it was my pleasure, really—”

You laugh as you take the tissue from her and press it to your bottom lip, wiping away the little smidge of blood. 

“Thank you, Emily.” You say sincerely, looking up at her through your lashes. “I really, really appreciate you giving me this lip balm and I promise to use it till it runs out.” You vow, your voice silky smooth, fingers wrapped around the chapstick as you hold it to your heart.

Emily’s heart stumbles once more. Do you know the effect you have on her? Sometimes she thinks you do, with the way you flirt with her, but other times you drip with genuine innocence, your smiles nothing but friendly.

“Whatever,” she murmurs, her booted toe lightly hitting yours. You smile and uncap the lip balm, twisting it to reveal a stick of deep red, almost burgundy. 

She almost stops breathing when you turn to the tiny mirror on your desk and start applying it, your lips quickly tinting red, the uneven splotches of recently peeled skin disappearing. You trace it over your skin and smooth your lips together when you’re done, spreading the balm evenly before you turn back to her.

“Good?” You ask as you cap the chapstick and slip it into your pocket. Something in her grows warm at the thought of you carrying it with you. She wonders if it’ll find its way onto your nightstand tonight, if it’ll be hidden in the pocket of one of your blazers tomorrow.

Emily almost laughs at the question. Her eyes drop to your lips, just to check, as if she hadn’t been ogling them while you’ve been turned away. She can still see the edge of the rough skin you were picking at, but it’s mostly hidden beneath the red. She has to tear her eyes from your lips, still ever so perfect.

Kissable. 

“Good,” she agrees, inclining her head in a nod. “I sincerely hope you’ll keep using it.” Her voice turns sickly sweet as she smiles, dimples curving in her cheeks. Your eyes brighten at the shift in her tone.

Grinning, you rest your chin on your palm. “Aw, you wanna kiss me that bad, Prentiss?” You tease. 

She laughs breathily, the sound a little choked if you listen properly. You have no idea.

“Just don’t want those lips to scare anyone away, hon,” she taps your nose and slides off your desk, grinning when you flip her off.

She settles back into her own desk and looks across at you, her heart warming at the light blush on your cheeks, a similar pink to your lips.

“Screw you, Emily,” you grumble, but you’re not fooling anyone with your poorly hidden smile.

She winks at you. “You’ll thank me later.”

----

It’s possibly the worst mistake she’s ever made.

Ever since she handed you the lip balm, you’ve been diligently applying it. Your lips are no longer cracked or dry; they’re plump and healed, shining with a subtle pink sheen, veering into red from the lip balm.

It goes without saying that work has become infinitely harder. She can’t focus when she sees the imprint of your lips on your coffee mug, a red kiss on the rim after you tip your drink back. When you pull out the chapstick in front of her she goes blank, her eyes zeroing in on the smooth, impossibly softer looking skin of your lips.

It only takes a week before her mind inevitably slips and exposes her.

You’re smoothing your hair in the bathroom when she walks in, also intent on touching up her appearance before delivering the profile. Your gaze slides to her and you smile, those perfect lips of yours turning up at the sight of her.

“Hey,” you say as she approaches, but she’s not listening. You’re turning over the chapstick between your fingers, the sheen on your lips telling her it’s freshly applied.

Emily doesn’t return your greeting. Her gaze drops to your mouth as she steps in close, closer than she realizes. 

“Your lips look good,” she says quietly. 

Your brows lift and immediately she feels her stomach drop, a flush rising up her cheeks. “Better,” she amends, her words breathless with embarrassment, “they look better. Than before. Not chapped.”

She really should stop talking. Her mouth snaps shut as her cheeks start to flame. She should stop looking at you, she thinks as your gaze drags over her. Your eyes linger on the pink tint of her pale cheeks, her widened eyes, the flush crawling up her jaw. She swallows and your eyes track that, too, making her body heat.

Emily sees the exact moment something shifts in your expression, as if you’ve come to a decision. Absently, you rub your smooth lips together. Absently, her eyes fall to them.

“They look good, huh?” You tilt your head. You take a few steps and close the miniscule distance between you two. Her chest presses into yours; she breathes in sharply. 

“You know what, Em?” You murmur, your eyes locked on hers in a way that makes her feel dizzy. “They feel even better.”

Emily’s heart races as you slip the lip balm back into your pocket. When you lean in impossibly closer and place your hand on her cheek, she stops breathing entirely.

“We’ve been playing this game for a while,” you say, your thumb stroking the soft skin of her cheek. She leans her face into your hand, chasing your touch. You smile.

“But it’s not a game, is it, Em?”

God, when you say her name like that. When you say Em and not Emily, when you let the syllables roll around on your tongue, when you say it lazily, carefully, as if you have all the time in the world.

Her hand finds your waist. She smiles a little, through her racing heart. “No,” she agrees softly. “It’s not.”

Your skin is warm through your clothes. She hears the soft hitch in your breath, the way your skin caves beneath her touch.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Emily laughs, soft and a little breathless. “Please,” she twists her fingers into your shirt, feels the material slip against her skin.

When you finally kiss her, she tastes cherries.

*I didn’t expect to write this so quickly after the first one but inspiration struck and I ran with it haha. I hope you enjoyed <33 I’d possibly like to write more for em, so if you’ve got any requests, pop in my inbox and let me know!

[fbfh]

Had to take this to the professional 🫡

We need more dad tony stark content (literally anything you got)

Literally starving

Thank you 😌

thank you for giving me more excuses to talk about this. Tony is such a good fucking dad in general, but he's especially great when you get sick. if you're in new york, he probably notices cause you're not up as early as usual. idk where this came from, but I can hear him clear as day walking into your room and smoothing your hair to wake you up, saying

"Hey pumpkin, sun's out." you only grunt in response, but it's not your usual sassy I don't wanna wake up grunt. It sounds softer, like you actually can't get up yet.

"You feeling okay?" before you can answer, he's totally on it. "jarvis, run a vital scan."

He rolls you over onto your back so he can look at you. you look... pale. you don't have the usual vibrance to your skin, it's gray and faded. you look like if you weren't lying down, you'd pass out. Your eyes are puffy and watery, your lips are chapped. You're not yourself. While Jarvis runs a diagnostic scan on your vitals, Tony also gets to work. he carefully sticks a microneedling patch on your arm to check your blood - something Strange helped him whip up, among many other ways to monitor your health without all that clunky invasive hospital equipment - as Jarvis gives him the low down.

"Elevated body temperature of 101.3 degrees fahrenheit, swelling of the sinuses, elevated white blood count..." Jarvis rambles on and on while describing your simptoms, only interrupted by an agressive coughing fit.

"And a rather nasty productive cough."

You look up at him and try not to get teary, you know crying will just make you feel more dehydrated and achy.

"Dad... I don't feel good..."

He looks down at you so warmly, and with so much love.

"I know, kid."

He stands up, determined to do everything he can to kick this cold in record time.

"Alright, your schedule for the week is cleared." He cuts you off as you object. "Ah-bup-bup-bup. I don't want to hear it. You are officially on bedrest until further notice. Jarvis, order out for some of that soup we like, some cough drops, and popsicles."

He looks down at you.

"You want ice cream? What am I saying, of course you want ice cream. Jarvis, throw in a few pints of Stark raving hazelnuts and bunny tracks."

He grabs the remote for your tv, putting on your favorite movie and has dum-e wheel you in a box of tissues. He grabs some vaseline and cold medicine, along with a fresh cold water and your favorite flavor of sports drink.

"Now. I want you to lay back, I want you to stay cool, and I want you to get some rest. And you're a Stark, so staying cool should be no problem." He gives you a kiss on the forehead, then stands up to move all his work to stuff he can do at home, and tell Pepper to cancel or reschedule the rest so he can spend the rest of the day watching movies and tv shows with you between naps. You can hear him muttering to himself as he calls Steven over to come check on you. If you weren't so tired, you'd find it funny that the only person your dad trusts to be your family doctor is also a wizard.

"Can stop aliens from invading earth, I can make an arc reactor that can fit in the palm of my hand, how have we not cracked this cold and flu season thing yet?" he mutters, making a mental note to discuss it with the rest of the Avengers at the next team meeting. you drift off to sleep feeling a lot better than you did when you woke up, and thinking about debrief folders titled Avengers v. Rhinovirus.

[femmefatalevibe]

what "glow up tips" do you have that (actually) work?

I know some of the common ones like "ooh drink water" and whatever, which I already do (I try to eat healthy most days, drink water every day, exercise 5 days a week, etc.)

And I understand that while all these work, I was looking for more short-term glow up tips, like how to glow up your hair/makeup etc. if that makes sense.

So I guess what advice do you have for a "overnight" glow up (quote unquote)?

Love the blog!!

Hi love! Thank you so much <3

Yes, totally get what you're saying (and that's great – it's all just so important, honestly). Here are some of my "overnight glow-up hacks" if we shall call them that, which I believe fit into this category:

For your hair, use a mask on your hair the night before you want it to look extra shiny and smooth (I use this HASK one – it's $2-3 and works like magic). Wash it in cold water, and let it fully dry (even for a little while after using heat to dry it!) before putting it up or playing with your style at all

Dermaplane your face, tweeze your eyebrows and then put on an extra hydrating face lotion to lock in glowing, fresh-looking skin (I use Embryolisse Lait-Crème Concentré, it's a "dupe" for La Mer's famous face cream)

Exfoliate your entire body with a sugar scrub and use an ultra-hydrating body lotion (I use Tree Hut's Coco Colada scrub and Uriage's Xemose Lipid-Replenishing Anti-Irritation Cerat moisturizer)

Do a face massage/use a facial or body massage ball to depuff your face

An orgasm is a natural lip-plumper

Use Vaseline/Homeoplasmine to hydrate under your eyes + your lips

Apply concealer as a primer under your eyeliner (use a brush to thinly trace it before) setting powder/face powder under your eyes to "lock in" your eyeliner so it doesn't smudge (or at least way less)

Layer a cream blush with a powder blush over the top right away your cheekbones for a glowy, more lifted face

Outline your brows and lips with concealer with set powder over the top to avoid brow or lip product smudging

To help your lip color last all day: Apply a coat of lipstick, and blot excess with a tissue. Then, apply another coat and blot the excess again

Hope this helps xx

[lover-girl-estxx]

Best Friends

part 2

*not my gif*

| Nicks POV |

I was hitting pads warming up in my room, Y/n wasn't here yet she was waiting and getting ready in the hotel room before coming to the warm up room. The door slightly opened as I took a break Y/n stuck her head in her Y/H/L hair waving as she did "wanted to make sure I had the right room" she stepped into the room. She had on a tight dark purple dress on and black heels to match, she closed the door holding her small purse in hand. She looked beautiful.. "What?" she said I stopped looking at her and moved to the people around us who were all looking at her "nothing....you look nice" I said with a slight smile "thank you!" she smiled widely with a light blush.

Now it was just resting till the fight, I sat on a chair "here" Y/n handed me a water bottle "thanks" she nodded and smoothed her dress before sitting next to me. "c-can you fix my hair? your the only one who does it right" I asked looking over at her "yeah" she moved and stood in front of me running her fingers lightly through my hair. I closed my eyes as she did "I know its dumb but i'll just say it..again..be careful tonight" I smirked "I will promise" "thanks" she cupped my cheeks and kissed my forehead like always "come on i'll take you to your seat" Gilbert said I opened my eyes "okay!" she smiled she fixed one last hair "your gonna do great!" she added and her thumb rubbed my cheek as I shrugged "you will" she stuck her hand out for our hand shake.

| Y/ns POV |

Nick walked out Nate behind him and his music loud, as he past me he smiled. I sat on the end of my seat the whole family till Nick knocked him out I jumped up and yelled. "can you bring her in?" Nick asked a guard who nodded as nick pointed, he helped me to the cage when I got in Nick quickly wrapped his arms around my waist mine his neck "you did it! i'm so proud of you!" I whispered he smiled "thank you" I slightly fixing her hair.

He stood at the bottom of the stairs holding my hand as I walked down them "thanks Nicky" I smiled. I sat on a bunch in the dressing room, Nick was in the bathroom and the rest of the guys went god knows where. Nicks mom had texted me asking to see how nick was which I replied too "Y/n! can you come help me?" I stood up and walked in, he was running a cloth over his chest and stomach "will you just do my brow you know I hate doing the face cuts?" he added "yeah" I took my heels off setting them to the side, before washing my hands.

He sat on the counter me in front of him, he sucked in as I wiped his brow "sorry" I whispered he rubbed my bent elbow with his finger tips "its okay" he said softly. even with bruise covering him he looked so handsome, should I just tell him? Nate said I should what if he likes me too? But if he doesn't I'm fucked. "what?" he said "what?" I spread the vaseline on his brow "your thinking about something" he opened one eye "nothing" I shook my head "come on don't do that" "um I don't know how to nor if I want to" I dropped my arms after cleaning up everything I used, he put his hands on my hips and putting me back to him "Y/n" I loosely wrapped my arms around his shoulders "I really don't want too" "anything you say wouldn't change anything" "you don't know that" "I promise on everything" "I-I really like yo-" I was cut off by him kissing me I cupped his cheeks kissing him back. He smiled pulling away, I blushed "I love you Y/n/n" I slightly jumped up and down pecking his lips "I love you too Nicky" hugging him "you look so beautiful" he whispered kissing my neck "is it the dress?" I smiled "no it's all you honey" I giggled "you look pretty handsome too" he chucked "we getting to much" I smiled he shook his head kissing me again.

[thehighladywrites]

heyy!! i love your fics!🩷 i wanted to ask if you have a makeup routine?

hii sweet anon!!💗💗

Yes i do have one and these are the products i use

Okay before i even begin with my makeup, i do skincare. I wash my face with the cerave foaming cleanser, the mint green one.

i immediately use vaseline to soften my lips for later

Then i use the cosrx snail mucin on damp skin

Then i use the ordinary hyaluronic acid

After that i use the la roche-posay’s moisturizer, like a LOTTT so my skin looks hella shiny and smooth

Then I always their sunscreen too, and that will be my primer

I don’t use any primer if i do my skincare bc the makeup would just be sliding around otherwise

I spot conceal with the nars soft matte concealer and i REALLYYYY recommend this, it’s like skin in a pot

Okay so if i’m doing my everyday natural makeup i either just spot conceal or use a light layer of foundation

I use the nars light reflecting foundation, it’s so pretty and so fucking natural. Like a layer of this foundation looks like radiant and smooth skin

I blend that out with a brush, I always use a dense brush for my blending, then use a beauty blender for any excess product

DONT FORGET SETTING SPRAYYY

i use the urban decay all nighter, and tbh it stinks idk why ??? is anyone else experiencing this? like it REEEEEKS

anyways, i then bronze w the juvias place bronzer and blush with the patrick ta blush in the shade “she’s that girl”

I also use the juvia’s place blush in shade marigold glow, a tiiiiny dot is enough it’s very pigmented

after i blend all that i use the too faced concealer in the shade butterscotch and the nars one in chestnut, just to brighten everything.

I never conceal before blush and bronzer, always after!!

I set my face with more setting spray and use my mini fan to dry my face so the powder and liquid products don’t mix too much and make a mess

Then i immediately bake with the huda beauty powder in shade blondie while i do my eyebrows

I use the nyx brow pencil in shade espresso, i just lightly color in the ends, never the front or else my eyebrows will look boxy and i hate that

after that i use a random eyebrow gel idk what mine is called tbh i think it’s from technic

then i use an eyeshadow, always a brown one, typically i just use my bronzer as eyeshadow

the i use a kajal to darken my waterline, and a darkbrown shadow as eyeliner

i use the essence mascara, the red/pink one and the blue one. I also use the loreal telescopic mascara

sometimes i use a half lash at the ends

then remove the excess vaseline on my lips from before and use the barry m lipliner in shade chocolate + nyx buttergloss in shade ginger snap or just more vaseline bc i like my lips soft.

I use a tiny bit of the nyx gloss and more of the vaselin bc i HATE having sticky lips like i will gag i HATTEEEEEE it with a passion

anyways i think that’s it!! thanks for asking anon this was so fun to share💗💗💗

[kxxkiecxre]

༺♥༻ A B S I D E O N ༺♥༻

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Summary: to banish negative thoughts.

Warnings: 18+, kissing, cuddling, cursing, mature scenes - smut-. Possessive Jimin. Jealous reader.

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, flirty, tiniest bit of angst blink and you’ll miss it. Just two idiots blindly in love.

Word count: 8K

Most likely unedited lol.

Perhaps sitting in the lodge café all by yourself was the best thing you could do on this particularly chilly evening. Snow covered the city in a blanket of white, thick with cold and icy like a knife cutting in your skin. You loved it though, winter in general was your favourite season.

Ironically, the café made of literally wood, had a fire place going. Warming it’s occupants undeniably, however it still gave you the tiniest bit of anxiety of somehow the lodge catching on fire and with your clumsiness you’d be doomed and would burn to ash and dust. You gave yourself a small smile at the expense of your stupidity, blowing in the mocha to cool it down before sipping carefully, afraid your lips would burn with the boiling water.

Staring at your computer screen for approximately ten minutes without doing anything but having your eyes solemnly fixated on the laptop, probably did your poor eyes no good. But licking your chapped lips, you sighed deeply, unable to write even one good sentence for your boss. Maybe you could get out of it by telling him a blatant lie, expect you’d have to come up with something better other than the poor excuse of ‘my cat died’.

Your boss probably thought you had gone insane, but thankfully let you off. Course there’s always ‘the dog ate my homework’ excuse however you’re not sure if that would work, considering it’s not homework but work and it’s not paper but a laptop.

You hadn’t realised you were drawing blood from your lips until the most ethereal human being sat across you, smiling so wide his eyes deepened into slits and you could swear the entire world stopped on its axis, just like in the cheesy over the top romcoms. Good god.

“Hi” he chuckled, voice as smooth as the finest chocolate “your lips are bleeding, I have chapstick.. Vaseline actually, but In all honesty it works better than chapstick” he extends his hand towards you.

You’re pretty sure your mouth was hanging in an ‘o’, eyes most likely sparkling as if you just saw god himself and you weren’t sure if you blinked or took a breath in all of the two minutes he’s spent across you.

“Hi” your voice was small and somehow higher than normally, and you blamed it all on him and his charms.

You looked at the hand that was extended towards you, still holding the mini tub of Vaseline as he smiled warmly at you, “oh thank you”

He retrieved his arm back, hiding them under the table as he continued smiling at you with the biggest beam, almost blinding your already poor eyesight. If you could you’d whine right now, whine about how un-fucking-fair life is. How is he so perfect? Is he one of gods many angels? Or is he actually god himself? Maybe the devil? They do say that the devil is handsome.

“I’m Jimin” he spoke, voice still melting away your insides as if they were plastic and the heat of the fire near you was melting it all down.

“Y/N..” you still couldn’t find your voice, still sounding so small and vulnerable and it made you hate yourself. You hated being like this, and this hasn’t happened since high school to you.

“Pretty” he said, tilting his head slightly almost like a puppy while your eyes were captured by his bleach blonde hair, almost the same color as the snow outside.

“Huh?” You managed to somehow sound more comfortable and firmer, although that could be from the surprise.

“Pretty” he said.

“What is?”

“You… your name too” he smirked.

“Ah” you blinked, not fully closing your mouth “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

He chuckled, shaking his head before running a hand through the nest of hair. He crossed his arms and laid them on the table, “no. I’m new in town, arrived around two weeks ago. I made a few friends, but you…you’re the most interesting.”

Your brows raised, character finally breaking through as the shock of his beauty finally started to wear down.

“Is that so?”

He nodded again, still smirking at you like he knew a secret you didn’t. You huffed, closing your laptop and letting the dim lighting do its job, which only extenuated his beautiful features. Un-fucking-fair. Period.

“I’m just sitting here” you shrugged.

“Yeah I know”

“So what’s so interesting about me just sitting here”

“Well for starters, I think staring at the laptop screen for roughly ten minutes without writing or even touching it was kind of concerning,” he leaned forward, closer to you as if whispering a dirty secret, you didn’t hesitate to do the same “and you started biting your lip so bad it started bleeding, I don’t even think you realised”

“It’s a habit”

“To stare at screens?”

“Lip biting”

“It’s hot.”

“It is?”

He nodded, while you pulled away, feeling breathless from the close proximity. God he was a handful to say the least. Beauty wise and boldness too. It almost made you question if he could just be a hallucination your mind has scrambled from all the staring you did at your laptop. Perhaps you’re going crazy? It’s not impossible.

“So, seriously” you cleared your throat, sipping on your mocha “why me out of all these people”

“Because, as I said, you’re the most interesting”

“I’m sorry but I don’t see how”

He chuckled, hands back under the table as his leg started to bounce. A smirk still present on those pretty lips while his head was slightly tilted to the side. Looking at you with most beautiful gaze known to mankind. To humanity even.

His hair was a beautiful contrast to his dewy undertones, eyebrows full and dark, eyes as mesmerising as the city lights at night. And although you have never been to a firework show, you’re pretty sure his eyes are just that. A pool of warm chocolate reflecting all the colors known to this earth. So pretty.

“Maybe I haven’t made myself clear,” he licked his plump lips “I think you’re the most beautiful person here”

At that you laughed, a little to loud but you couldn’t contain it, even when Luke the owner gave you a slight glare, “listen you might be handsome but there must be nothing behind that pretty head”

“You don’t believe me” he almost said it in disbelief.

You shook your head, “come on, seriously? You clearly haven’t been here for long because I am not the most beautiful here. Beautiful? Yeah course I am, the most? No”

“To me you are”

That stomped you. Heart beat picking up as he puckered his lips in a somewhat pout, which had to be the cutest thing you’ve ever witnessed. You weren’t sure wether it was the way he was so ethereal but his humour was so boyish and youthful. He intrigued you. No lie.

“To you..”

“To me” he assured, nodding slightly.

“Well Jimin, nice meeting you, but I have work, and my boss hates it when I’m late” you started to put your laptop back in its briefcase.

Going for the notepad and your pen, before it was snatched millimetres away from your grasp, earning a surprised gasp from your lips.

“Call me when you can” he winked, giving you the notepad back and walking away.

Okay, that was smooth. You’ll give that to him. He sweet talked you using his charms to help him, and you’re about ninety nine percent sure it worked. Curse his charms.

Curse him and his pretty face, because for most of your work day, all you could think about is his warm eyes and beaming smile. And the fact he stole your favourite pen in broad daylight. Ugh. He already gave you a headache and you barely know him. Curse his good looks.

You were already on a minus with your boss. His reaction not so welcoming to the fact you were late by five minutes and presented him with no new articles, but to be honest, It wasn’t your fault he gave you such a dry topic, who cares about the fact the farmers market is running out of carrots and vegetables for this week? Certainly not you. You’re not sure the rest of the neighbourhood would care too.

“Come on,” you sighed, throwing your head back against your chair “he’s so frustrating”

“Who?” Taehyung butted in.

“Boss”

“Ah”

“When did you get here?” You asked not sure where the pretty boy has appeared from because he certainly wasn’t here when you arrived.

“Like twenty minutes ago” he shrugged, sipping his boba tea.

“Can I have sip please” you begged with a small pout and who would Taehyung be to deny you. He handed you the cup, letting you savour the sweetness of the liquid.

“You asshole!” You groaned.

“That good?” He chuckled.

“So good”

The rest of the day was spent printing stupid useless papers about the drop of sales in farmers markets because of supermarkets, but to be fair who even shops at farmer markets anymore.

By the end of the day you had one mission, and that was to get your favourite initial carved pen back, from the drop dead gorgeous broad daylight thief. A thief you’d like to at least have a one night with.

Pacing around your apartment, you considered calling him. Not to set up a date, but to get your pen back. Your favourite pen. The pen you loved. Okay maybe it was shit excuse to talk to him again, but you’ll take it over nothing.

Sucking up your nerves you took your phone out of your bag, dialling his number with your heart in your throat. What if he doesn’t remember you? What if he thinks you’re obsessed? You hated ‘what ifs’ but it was only reasonable you had them right now. Who wouldn’t? When a man like that comes up to you, tells you you’re interesting, and gives you his number the only rational thing to do is question everything. Question if he’s real and not just a fragment of your incredibly vivid imagination.

The phone rang twice, before he picked it up. A husky voice whispering in your ear “hello?”

Oh god, it’s literally two in the morning and you’re calling the ridiculously handsome stranger, “oh Uhm sorry I’m calling so late”

“Y/N?”

You wondered how on earth he recognised you just from your voice, but that’s a question for later, “uh yeah I’m just… you took my pen when giving me your number and uh,” how on earth do you ask for it back without sounding like an absolute ass “could I get it back?”

He chuckled, at the other end of the line he laid in bed, rubbing his puffy eyes and smiling to himself at your poor excuse to talk to him at this hour. “At two am?”

You could hear the smile on his face, even his voice was flirty and that had your heart doing laps “eh yeah i need it… for work..”

He suppressed the bubbling laughter in his stomach, you couldn’t get a different pen? Of course he knew you were using an excuse, and he found it amusing. The way you sounded so shy and vulnerable, not to mention he’d get to see you again, “of course, i can drop it off for you?”

“Yeah that’d be great, I’ll send you the address of my job” you smiled to yourself, before saying a goodnight.

Maybe the universe thought it was your time to find love, or maybe it’s all still a lie or an agenda to hurt you because after all you are the one who laughed at a child fall. In your defence it was hilarious, the way the poor chubby boy fell like a stiff board.. you have dealt with the fact you’re going to hell a long time ago.

This… This might be heaven.

The way he looked in front of you right now had your mind scrambling to get a grip. In all fairness, it wasn’t just you who was having a mental breakdown at the sight of the godly figure. He stood over your little cubicle, staring at you with chocolate eyes and bearing a smile that had every woman’s womb warm and ready for his children. Maybe even some of the guys too, considering the way Jihyun looked at him was almost mimicking your expression. You don’t blame him.

Jimin wore nothing short of angelic, with black slacks and a white cotton turtleneck paired with a silver long necklace had you spinning in circles like a dog trying to catch its tail. The slacks were held around his waist with a belt, the turtleneck hugging his slim frame so deliciously you had to wipe the drool at the corner of your mouth. It should be illegal to look this good while giving back a pen. Insanity… pure insanity.

He looked at you almost expectantly, while once again you were struck with Elsa’s freezing magic, sitting so still and silent in your office chair that you felt like everyone could hear your heartbeat, even the mice at the other end of the room. However you pulled your self together once Taehyung pinched your thigh, smiling all too sweetly at Jimin.

“Hi I’m Taehyung” he extend his hand in a greeting towards Jimin who accepts his handshake.

“Jimin, so you’re her boyfriend?”

“You’re my boyfriend?” You asked still gazed out at the beauty of the man in front of you.

“Last I checked nope, still not a chance, even in hot hot hot hell. In the depths of satans ball-“

“Okay tae I get it” you squint your eyes at him, a slight pout forming on your face and it makes Jimin immediately gleam.

“See, my co worker is kind of,” he expressed his face in thinking “slow today in fact, believe it or not, she had done nothing today but stare at a man in complete awe”

Jimin licked his lips in an attempt to hide his smile at your murderous gaze directed at your best co worker friend, “I see.. must of been one hell of a man-“

“Harry styles” you interrupt anyone before they can continue.

“Huh?” Both of them ask in confusion.

“Harry styles is the man in question”

“Really?” Jimin chuckled “I haven’t pegged you for a Harry type”

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me”

“And I wanna change that,” he smirked, a certain light firing behind those dangerous eyes of his.

Taehyung cooed before gagging, dramatically rolling his eyes with disgust hugging the man’s handsome face, “hell is hot, and both of you deserve to be there with this disgusting flirting”

You ignored Taehyung, simply waving your hand at him in dismissal as he scoffed and left your shared cubicle. Jimin took it upon himself to occupy the now vacant spot, “so what do you say?”

You gave him a tight smile, “I don’t know Jimin… I haven’t been dating for a long time” you admit.

“Okay,” he nods his head in understanding “so let’s take it slow. Let’s not call it a date! We’ll just hang out, get some ice cream and talk. That’s all. No over the top outfits, expensive dinners or anything. Just you me and ice cream”

You puckered your lips to the side in a shy smile. Everything inside you flared in neediness around this man, and who were you to say no to such an angelic human being. He was like watching a fairytale, both beautiful and mysterious, yet horrifying in a sense were you were scared of the future, of this man’s capabilities.

“Okay” you shyly agree, twiddling with a pencil in your fingers.

“Okay,” he smiled softly “I’ll call you”

You nodded, desperately trying to hide the gleam on your face. He was almost on his way out before he turned on his heel, holding your pink initialed pen in his hand. He said nothing as he gave it back to you, still smirking charmingly at you before strutting his way to the elevator, all while you tried to calm your frantic and erratic heart.

“You’re such a goon,” you felt a smack at the back of your head “please tell me you didn’t reject him”

“Ouch” you hissed, patting your head “I didn’t!”

“Good, cause he seems like a nice guy” Taehyung sat down, unlocking his computer again while sliding the cup of coffee your way.

“If you like him so much why don’t you go after him” you tease.

“Because baby, I like donuts..”

“Huh?”

“Women y/n.. I like women.. and I have a girlfriend”

“Ah right”

You shook yourself out of the daze his weird description left, sighing before going back to editing your latest article.

Jimin was truly impeccable. A fine man with so much to him. It was like he had the world between his fingers, and he was the sun orbiting around it, enlightening it, feeding and nurturing its elements. He brought out the best in you, within the short time that you’ve known him for. He was just, great.

Walking the trail in the park, you found yourself letting go and enjoying his boyish humour. He was truly a man you could get engrossed in, like a book that’s so interesting you can’t put it down, or a series you can’t stop binge watching. He was one of a kind, and you knew that. You knew he was everything.

By the time you finished your ice cream, you realised you wanted more time with him. Like there wasn’t enough hours in the day to accommodate the need to talk to him, laugh with him and find out more about him. He was special.

So agreeing silently, both of you found yourself walking in the heart of the city, already on your second round of ice creams.

“What’s yours like?” You asked “I’ve never had pistachio ice cream before”

He took your ice cream cup, before handing you his own. Trading with you without another word, it made your heart melt, your chest lighting up like a fire on the Fourth of July.

The ice cream was good, almost as good as the man Jimin is. Full of flavour and melts right into you. Like a missing puzzle, and you knew right there that this man was going to be the end of you. He was going to be the person you think of first thing in the morning, and the last thought before you fall asleep.

“I have a bunny at home” he replied to your comment on how adorable bunnies are.

“You do?” He nodded, licking the spoon.

“Mhm just in human form”

Your eyebrows raised in confusion, “my roommate and best friend, the kids amazing but so annoying, we call him bunny because he has a smile that makes him look like one”

“Oh really-“ you yelped in surprise as you caught onto Jimins shoulder, your ankle twisting in an uncomfortable way and before you knew it your heel broke off your shoe.

“Oh” you laughed.

“Are you okay?” He asked, supporting you as you took your heel off.

“My shoe just broke” you could hear the universe laughing at you almost maniacally. Way to screw up, thanks.

He inspected your shoe, before sitting you down on the bench and telling you to wait there for him. You did as he asked, pouting at your favourite shoe being broken. How did this even happen?

Before you could dwell on it too much, you watched as Jimin hurried over back to you through the swarm of people, holding super glue in one hand. He held a grin, hair bouncing with each leap he took.

“Superglue for the rescue” he laughed before sitting down beside you and taking the shoe back in his hands.

“I can do it, you don’t have to” you smile at him.

“Shush I’m trying to be a gentleman here” he chuckled holding the heel firmly to its platform.

You waited for about two minutes before Jimin decided it’s safe enough for you to try them out again, he held your hand as you got up of the bench and took a few testing strides, “good as new” you hug him.

“Thank you”

He shook his head at you, grabbing your hand and strolling you away back towards where his car is parked, “it’s getting late and cold, shall we go?”

“Yes” you agree.

All of three weeks passed since you’ve met Jimin, mindlessly growing closer and closer to him. And although he holds your hand on walks and you cling to him like Saran Wrap, you still haven’t put an official label on it. And maybe you didn’t have to, you haven’t kissed him yet. But somehow you manage to feel jealous just at the thought of another woman having him.

Just like clock work, Jimin was parked outside your office, waiting in his shiny black car for you. Just like he has for the past three weeks. Co workers started gossiping about your potential new boyfriend, and all though you hated that they couldn’t keep their big noses out of it, you simply ignored them. Even when Taehyung would snarl back at them to mind their business, you’d tell him to ignore them. Jimin was changing you, for the better.

Taehyung grew to be good friends with Jimin too, hanging out with him and Jungkook often. Perhaps even more than you would be at their house. “How was work?”

“Boring, long, exhausting and my coworker is smelly”

He chuckled turning the radio down, “who Taehyung?”

“No Patricia”

“And why is she smelly?”

“Because she just is, I don’t like her”

“Fair enough” he laughed, taking the exit towards your house.

“She’s clapped”

He laughed, an amused smile on his face “Patricia smelly and clapped, got it!”

“I told her that the article has to be printed for this morning, guess what she did?”

“She forgot to print it for this morning?”

“Eeeeeh! Wrong! She deleted the whole file, the article that I worked so hard for, she deleted it. And she had the audacity to tell that to me with the most unbothered look on her face”

“Oo that’s low of smelly clapped Patricia” he chuckled.

“Yeah well thank good heavens I’m not clapped because I had the brain to actually save a second copy, unedited of course but still”

He chuckled once again, finding himself amused with the pout on your lips and the slight anger behind your pretty eyes. Sure he’s met a lot of beautiful women, some he thought he was in love with even, but when his eyes landed on you in the lodge café, it was like every atom of his body ignited with sudden need, like a gravitation pull, before he could reconsider what he was about to do, he found himself right in your essence, talking away with you with a pounding heart, so loud it almost fogged his brain, although his entire being was wrapped around your pinky finger from the moment his eyes landed on you. Almost burning his mouth with his usual coffee order.

He wanted to take you somewhere different today once you came home and changed into comfortable clothing. Once he saw you threw on a pair of grey sweatpants and a hoodie, he handed you your runners, and asked you to trust him on this.

He knew where he wanted to take you, and he didn’t take people there often. Mostly because it was his escape route, from reality, from hard times and when he was tired. Yet something in his soul itched to show it to you, like he knew both of you would be coming here till the very last breath you’d take.

“Okay, it’s not that I don’t trust you,” your voice cut out his day dreaming as you started to slightly pant, the last thing you expected was to go on a hike “but right now, it’s like I’m the naive victim following the fairylike man into her death trap”

He laughed, his voice chirped just like the birds above your head and your pretty sure that even the sun melted at his boyish beam “I promise I won’t kill you”

“You won’t pull a Joe?”

His eyes brows scrunched up in confusion before he realised what you meant, “I won’t pull a Joe”

You panted, “okay not to seem like a lazy cow but,” you held your chest “I have asthma, and I don’t particularly work out, so please, how much longer?”

He chuckled, holding your hand as you slightly wobbled, “I promise just a few more steps”

He didn’t lie, because within five minutes you were standing on the ledge of a cliff, watching the busy city with a sunset that mimicked an ombré. Shades of pink red and orange mixing so beautiful it almost had you tearful, it’s something you only expect in movies, something straight out of a teen rom com. It was so quiet here compared to the loud streets of Seoul. It was mesmerising to say the least.

“Wow” you stood still, the grass under your feet even seemed more lush up here.

“I found this place when I went on a hike and got lost… I never stopped coming here.”

“It’s stunning” you let a breath out.

“Sit” he patted the grass beside him, and you followed, crossing your knees like a child.

“You know you could easily pull a joe right now and just push me off of this cliff?”

“You watch way too many murder series’s” he laughed, leaning back into his elbows as he squinted his eyes slightly.

You did the same, expect fully laid down. So close to his proximity you could quiet literally smell him, feel his warmth on your skin. His face was above yours, staring at you with an emotion you couldn’t figure out. Perhaps lust? But then again, you’ve seen him needy, and he looks much more softer and serene right now, almost like he was on cloud nine.

“You know that the second I laid my eyes on you,” his hand cupped your face as he now turned on his side, palm soft and warm against your cheek “I thought about nothing but how kissing you would feel like”

Your breath caught in your throat, heart hammering against your rib cage as if it was trying to break through and run away with its tiny legs, screaming before throwing itself of the ledge. He looked like a celestial, with the sun shining right behind him and caramel eyes boring into your own, you were hypnotised. Infatuated even.

“What’s stopping you?”

He smiled, brushing his thumb against your bottom lip. His face inched closer and closer, and it felt like two magnets pulling its gravity towards one another, luring each other in, and when finally his soft plush lips landed on yours, it felt like the magnets collided with force, sparking a beautiful epitome of fireworks through your bodies.

The kiss was simple, beautiful and gentle. Like it held more then just want for you, like he needed you.

It was too short, you found yourself leaning up chasing his lips when he pulled away, but all that met you was a sigh, a sigh filled with relief, and maybe like he finally felt free.

He finally let you kiss him again, letting you grab his hoodie in your small fist as you grew hungry for him, wanting more then just a kiss and god he’d be naive to say his body didn’t react like a teenage boy going through puberty, but he respected you far too much to let the lust take over both of you and he pulled away with a slight groan, hating that he had to do it, but he wasn’t going to rush into things. Not this time.

“Why’d you stop” you whined, opening your eyes to look at his beautiful face.

“Because it was getting dangerous love,” he kissed the corner of your mouth “I respect you too much to just rush into this, I don’t want you to regret anything. We have a lot of time love, so let’s go slow.. and steady.”

You agreed with him, he was right and respectful, which made you feel sentimental. He remembered how it’s been a long time for you, and didn’t want to scare you. Which again, you were thankful for, but your body was yearning for him, as if you have been dehydrated beyond years on end.

You smiled gently, cheeks reddening. He was perfect, and you questioned what you did in your past life to deserve someone like him to be in your life, “okay”

“Okay” he smiled back, eyes gleaming with him.

Clubbing was not the first thing that came to your mind when you told Taehyung that your weekend was free. But you should have expected that, the man loves partying. Almost as much as breathing. No lie.

Now you were rushing around the house, clothes flying everywhere as Jimin sat on your couch and watched with a small smile, “I will strangle him”

He suppressed his need to laugh, his hand over his mouth as he continued to look at your panicked state. He got up, holding your shoulders still and looking in your eyes before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “calm down hm? You could wear your pyjamas and no one would bat an eyes you’re that beautiful. Pick your favourite outfits and do a little fashion show for me, I’ll pick the one that looks best on you huh?”

You smirked, “but you promise to be honest and not just pick the first one I throw on?”

“I promise”

You gave his cheek a kiss, before you were turned on your heel and urged back to your bedroom. Within record time you found your three favourite outfits, the first was basic, but still cute. It consisted of brown silky wide leg pants, and a matching crop top, it was comfy and the material was nice, but perhaps too basic for a club?

You walked out, finding Jimin on the stool at your kitchen island. He sipped your Starbucks, looking you up and down, turning his head every which way, “I love this outfit, but I’d say it’d be more a dinner type of thing or when you’re going to something more casual.. next”

You mentally smiled to yourself , good choice Jimin good choice. He understood you beyond words at this stage, and that warmed your heart pleasantly.

The next outfit was more club appropriate, but a little uncomfortable under the arms, and maybe a bit too simple too, it was a black sequin dress, reaching just a tad bit past your ass and had slits on each side of your waist. To say it was uncomfortable was an understatement, but it wouldn’t of been your first time wearing something uncomfortable for the purpose of looking good.

You walked out once again, Jimin dropped his phone back onto the counter and smirked, “that’s a sexy dress… but it looks super uncomfortable, and with all the dancing you’re going to be doing, especially with me, I don’t believe this is dance appropriate…” he smiled “NEXT”.

You laughed, walking back to the room to pick your favourite dress of all time. Sure, it was a little basic, but it was so comfortable and looked so good against your skin, the cotton material of the white dress was the best part, it wasn’t too warm and it wasn’t too cold for it. Your favourite was the iridescent little diamonds on it, shining like a disco ball but you loved it. The sleeves on it were a little long, and the v cut was sure as hell deep, but it covered you up nicely. Sure the ladies were staying in place, you walked back out to him.

His eyes looked you up and down about a hundred times, telling you to do a little spin in which you felt like a penguin but anything to make him happy, “this one is the it dress of all dresses. You look absolutely gorgeous in it”

If heart eyes were the epitome of adoration, then he surely won. He looked at you as if you were the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on, and for some reason, all of his undivided attention made you even more confident, oh come on, of course it would, he’s the it boy, giving you a look of resemblance to that of a lovesick teenager in love for the first time. Who wouldn’t.

“White dress it is” you giggled.

Running back to the bedroom, you called out for him, starting on your makeup and frantically looking for your hair straightener so you could - oh so sweetly- ask Jimin to do your hair for you, just so you could save some time for both of your sakes.

“Hm?” He entered your room.

“Will you straighten my hair please?” Your puppy dog eyes do wonders on this man and the fact he gives you a fond smile on response is just another confirmation.

He fumbled with the straightener, not too sure how to turn it on but once he found the switch on the side he figured it out. He set it aside letting it heat up while you guided him to go in sections and that it didn’t have to be perfect, just good enough so your hair wasn’t a crazy mess. He followed exactly as you told him, doing a better job at straightening your own hair then you ever have. By the time he finished all you had to do was put some lipstick on and you were done. Once he was done and made sure the straightener was unplugged, he left a peck on your head and watched you apply the lipstick he bought you just a few days ago.

“I knew it would of looked absolutely stunning on you” he smirked.

“A man with good taste,” you turned around slightly, mimicking his smirk “gotta love it”

When Jimin said you were going to do a lot of dancing, he was not lying. Because currently, you were pressed up against him, ass to his front, hands tangling in his long Lucius hair while his fingers gripped onto your hips. You were starting to sweat, and your feet were starting to get miserable in your heels, so you turned around, hand holding his neck as you leaned in towards him, and you weren’t sure if wether it seemed like you leaned in to kiss him or if he simply just wanted to do it, but you found his soft round lips on your own, kissing you with urgency and need and you sure as hell were getting hotter by the second, especially when his nails started to dig into your hips, a low sort of growl passed from his lips to yours, frequency’d with your heart beat. Damn it why was he so hot.

“Fuck” you panted, still holding onto his neck.

“Have I told you how fucking beautiful you are?”

Your heart skipped a beat, butterflies swimming in your stomach and you were ready to have his children by the end of the night. But who could blame you, you were just a weak woman when it came to Park Jimin and his charm.

“Jimin,” you whispered in his ear “let’s sit down huh?”

He nodded his head, taking your hand in his and leading you off the dance floor and to the boot where the rest of your friends were. A yawn escaped your lips once you settled down onto the semi circular couch, Jimin’s arm extending behind your head as you relaxed into him, head and feet aching and you were so goddamn sleepy.

It didn’t take Jimin long to figure you out. He guessed that the amount of alcohol Taehyung basically forced down your throat, and the amount of dancing you did wore you out. He noticed how your eyes hooded and breathing slowed, melting into his side. At that very moment he realised he wanted to see you like this all the time. At your happiest, worst, energetic and tiring times. He wanted it all, and it was far too early to think so far into the future, but he knew it, and his friends knew it, you were his soulmate. Case closed.

“You wanna go home?” He leaned into you, whispering.

Your ears perked up at that request and thankfully Jimin decided not to drink tonight and just drive and enjoy his time with you, so you didn’t have to wait for a cab. Excusing yourselves from the table and saying goodbye to your friends, you followed Jimin tiredly to his car. Smiling lazily as you got in and buckled your seat belt, Jimin right behind you.

“Can you stay the night?”

He wasn’t sure if he heard you right, it almost made him do a double take. But one look at you and he knew he heard you correctly. He nodded, heart racing and a shy smile on his face. He wasn’t going to do any funny business, he just wanted to hold you for a little longer, let you melt right into the heat of his skin and just enjoy the moment.

“Course”

The only thing you hated more than waking up, is waking up with a hang over. Your head was pounding, throat drier than the Sahara desert and your stomach was clenching, warning you that you were about to vomit all of last nights remains.

You got up in a rush, untangling yourself from a sleeping Jimin and you cursed your luck because you wanted to just sink back in and cuddle up next to his pouty face, but your stomach reminded you of your current situation. You hopped off the bed, running to your bathroom before it was too late, and within seconds your stomach grumbled and you were regretting all of your alcohol related choices.

Jimin was a sweetheart though, and a light sleeper according to the way he squat behind you and rubbed your back comfortingly, shushing you when you tried to wave him off and not see you like this. But he was all too sweet, bringing your hair away from your face and soothing you with ‘it’s okay’.

Once you were done, you flushed the toilet, and leaned your back against the wall, watching as Jimin ripped a bit of tissue and wiped your mouth. Eyes somber and hair disheveled from his sleep. His future wife is sure as hell going to be lucky.

“Better?” He asked, extending his hand to help you up.

You groaned in response, “remind me to never fall for Taehyung’s antics again”

He chuckled, running the shower for you as you brushed your teeth in the sink, “I promise”

After you were freshly washed and changed into comfortable clothing, you entered your living room where Jimin was sat, rubbing his face to wake up from the most comfortable sleep he’s had for awhile. You took notice of the glass of water and pills on the coffee table.

“Take these,” he handed you the water “it’ll help with your hungover”

“Thanks”

It went silent afterwards, a question hanging in the air like the thick tension, and you weren’t quite sure why. Because you remember a lot of the events from last night,especially how you begged him to sleep next to you so you could cuddle into him.

“You don’t have to worry,” you leaned into his side, resting your head on his shoulder “I know we didn’t try anything except for me begging you to sleep next to me”

He laughed, leaning his head against yours. He played with your fingers, imagining how nice an engagement ring would look on them.. and then a wedding ring if you’d hopefully get that far with him, “be my girlfriend?”

His voice was low, barely audible but you heard his loud and clear, your heart hammering against your chest and you could cry from happiness. You’ve been waiting for this since that no date - date kind of thing, weeks passing since then and your heart longed to be his, “yes”

He kissed the top of your head, smirking slyly to himself because now he didn’t have to worry about someone else, anyone else, all he had to do was make sure you were always content and happy with him, even after arguing, he wanted to make sure you always felt loved by him and wanted. He wanted you to be in heaven with him, the way he is just by looking at you.

A year passed since he’s asked you to be his. Everything was great your engagement ring was a testimony to that, and sure you bickered along the way, but never to this point. Never to the point were you had to stay the night at Taehyung’s because you couldn’t take the arguing anymore. It was a silly reason, a childish one at that, but for the life of you had it made you mad. No it had you fuming.

The only problem is that you’re on Taehyung’s couch, tangled in the blankets his lovely girlfriend gave you and you feel nothing but need to be beside Jimin. You hated being away from him and your shared home. No matter how angry you can be, you never want to be away from him. As stupid as it sounds.

You sent him a text, a simple text saying you’re at Taehyungs after you ignored his multiple ‘where are you’ messages and he replied with ‘be there in ten’. You gathered yourself from the couch, neatly folding the blankets and pillows Minha gave you, before sending her a text saying you asked Jimin to pick you up. She sent a thumbs up and to call her if you need anything, as she and Taehyung were out on their anniversary date.

Jimin texted you letting you know he’s outside. You took a deep breath and exited the house but not before making sure everything was off and you had all of your stuff with you. You saw his black shiny bmw parked right outside the entrance of the apartment complex, you got in beside him. Buckling your belt as he started to drive off.

The silence in the car was accompanied by the fire between you. Tension thick and heavy, like it was ready to blow the roof off the car.

“I don’t get why you are so jealous” he began, shifting gears in the car.

You scoffed, “because Jimin, the look she gave you was the exact same I gave you when I first saw you in the lodge café”

“Okay but what did I do?”

You looked stomped, does he really not know the charm he holds? You genuinely thought he did it on purpose, the flirty looks and smile “come on Jimin, don’t act oblivious”

“I seriously have no clue” he sighed, his head was starting to hurt.

You suppressed your currently rising frustration as you got out of the car and straight to the apartment door. You waited for him to open it, and once he did, you shrugged your coat of and lined your shoes up next to his, walking to the kitchen, he followed you.

“Y/n…”

“You did that thing with your face to her, the one that has anyone on their knees in seconds”

“I literally just smiled at her” he groaned, running his hand through his hair.

“Yeah and she was ready to suck you off right there in front of the whole restaurant” you huffed, pouring the hot water into the mug of coffee.

“y/n what was I suppose to do”

“I don’t know!” Your voice rose, and you slammed the kettle back into its place “give her any type of smile except that one…and you should said of said a simple thank you… not ‘thanks love’”

He sighed, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, as you protested, “Jimin..”

“I’m sorry baby” he kissed your neck before sucking onto your weak spot , “I really am, can I show you how sorry I am?”

You sighed pleasantly, throwing your head back onto his shoulder and closing your eyes, “can I baby?”

You nodded, pressing yourself into him as he groaned and pulled your sweats down letting them pool around your ankles before he tugged his own down just the slightest bit so he could take his cock out. No undies, brave of you. He smirked to himself. He tugged your hoodie off, revealing the fact you wore no bra either. Your perky nipples hardening under his fingers as he rubbed them in small circles.

“I am so sorry baby” he sucked on your neck, surely leaving marks “but you do the same to me, frustrate me beyond words.”

His hand travelled from your boobs, down your stomach, past your belly button piercing and down to your soaked pussy. You could swear you were leaking down your thighs. This man had you wet within seconds. Unfair.

His finger dipped into your pool of arousal, feeling just how wet he got you in all of five minutes. Barely even touching you. His thumb rubbed your clit and you gasped, already seeing stars in your vision. He rubbed himself, before lining up with your entrance and pushing himself in, all the way to the hilt. Both of you moaned at the same time, bodies stiffening to the pleasure. His head was in the crook of your neck, still kissing and sucking while yours was on his shoulder, completely blissed out with a hand in his hair, and his still rubbing your clit. Your thighs shook just the slightest and he hasn’t even moved yet. Your pussy was wonderful, warm and velvety, tight as you are you clenched around him, letting him know you needed him to start moving. He complied, hand now resting on your lower belly, as he started his movements slow and easy, still peppering kisses all over your neck, chest and face.

“I love you baby, only you” he kissed your lips, your response sent him into overdrive, the need and rush in your kiss had him pushing you into the counter.

Your hands laid on the cool granite while his grabbed onto your hips, he wasted no time in setting an animalistic pace. You looked down, hair obstructing your view just the slightest but you saw the evident bulge in your lower stomach, and you bit your lip. He didn’t give you much time to continue looking, because within seconds he had your leg hooked around his arm and perked onto the counter and he started fucking you even harder, your moans pitching higher and your pussy fluttering as you grabbed onto the hand he had on your pussy, rubbing furious circles.

“Jimin - Ah” you threw your head back, his dick reaching all new angles and it didn’t take you long before your leg dropped from the counter and you grabbed behind you, onto his ass. You squeezed your legs together, clenching around him as you came. And you felt the stutter in his hips as he fucked you through your high, right before he shot his cum high into you.

“Fuck” he panted, head falling on your shoulder.

“I think we need to argue more” you chuckled.

“I see I fucked you into a good mood huh?” He kissed you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered against his lips “I love you” .

“Mhm I love you too”

He pulled out, both of you hissing. Over stimulation hitting both of you head first. He dragged your tired bodies into a warm shower. Were it was decided round two was definitely needed.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

A/N:

MASTERLIST

Hopefully you guys enjoyed this.. i had a lot more planned for this but it was getting far too long. It’s kinda rushed and all over the place but I haven’t updated for like forever so here you go :))))

Don’t be afraid to interact!

NO REPOSTING, EDITING, TRANSLATION OR COPYING OF ANY OF MY WORKS!

[fruitcoops]

LOOPS RAILING CAP IN THE SHOWER - cause we all know he deserves it after a game

Not exactly after a game, but still some fun and frisky locker room shower times. Coops (and James) credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for smut, being sort-of walked in on (only after everything is said and done), cramping muscles

“Hurry up,” Sirius hissed as he teetered on one foot and accidentally dipped the toe of his sock into the water pooling beneath him.

“I’m trying!” Remus whispered back, still elbows-deep in his duffel bag. His face lit up and he rocked back on his heels with a small container.

“Absolutely not,” Sirius said immediately.

“It’s all I have!”

“Mon dieu,” he muttered, yanking his other sock off and kneeling by his own bag. “There is no universe in which that bullshit is going up my ass.”

“It’s Vaseline, baby, not battery acid.”

Sirius turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “It’s sticky, it’s slimy, and it’s cold as shit. You hate it, too!”

“Fair point.”

With a quiet, triumphant ‘ha!’, Sirius emerged with a small tube of clear aloe gel. “Who’s the Boy Scout now, sweetheart?”

“You’re the Boy Scout,” Remus grumbled, wincing as he stood and his knees crackled. “Alright, scoot, we don’t have a ton of time.”

“Oh, baby, talk dirty to me,” Sirius deadpanned.

Remus made a face to hide his smile. “Shut up, you.”

He peeked around the edge of the shower stall once more before backing up against the wall, then stifled a shout at the cold tile between his shoulder blades. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“We do have a perfectly good shower at home.” Despite his words, Sirius could see the gleam of excitement in Remus’ eye as he was beckoned forward. The idea of maybe possibly maybe getting caught was a bit embarrassing if he thought about it too long, but it still sent a thrill through every nerve. That may have just been the feeling of Remus’ warmth on his front mixing with the chill on his back, though.

“Do you—” Sirius cut himself off with one more heated kiss, sliding a hand down Remus’ neck and laughing slightly at the squeak of his wet skin. “I wanna see you. Can you hold me up?”

Remus hummed, then pulled back with a thoughtful look. “Not before stretching. Sorry.”

“Pas de problem, mon coeur.” Sirius uncapped the aloe and handed it to Remus, using the side wall of the stall as a brace to hold himself up. He prayed his own tired muscles would do the job and not send them both tumbling to the floor in a heap of horniness.

“Here, let me…” Remus bit his lower lip and looped an arm under Sirius’ knee, lifting his leg around his waist. “Will that cramp?”

“Nah.”

He looked skeptical, but didn’t protest as he slicked his fingers and ran them down Sirius’ cleft. The water had finally started warming up to a more comfortable temperature; Sirius closed his eyes with a sigh and soaked in the feeling, letting the familiar tingles wash over him while Remus dragged his teeth along the side of his neck and the pad of his first finger slid in.

“You have magic fingers,” he murmured, gasping when cold air hit his pulse point. Whoever created aloe gel, I owe you a fruit basket.

He could feel Remus’ smile as his hitched-up thigh started trembling. “Merci.”

A door slammed down the hall and they both jerked in surprise—the digit rubbing gently around his outer muscle slipped very deep inside on very short notice and Sirius’ yelp was quickly muffled by Remus’ palm. “Fucking Christ,” he wheezed, torn between moaning in contentment and shrieking like a little girl at the sudden intrusion.

“Sorry, sorry, it was an accident.” Remus kissed his cheek. “Are you okay?”

“All good.”

“Will this be enough?"

“Considering we have—” Sirius did some awkward gymnastics to spot the wall clock. “—shit, just under an hour until the guys should start showing up, it’ll have to be.”

Remus chewed on the inside of his lip and glanced at the aloe. “I don’t know…”

“Hey.” Sirius cupped his face and kissed him. “This isn’t my first horse show.”

“Rodeo.”

“Same thing.” Remus’ lips twitched upwards and warmth spread all the way down to his toes, not just from the showerhead still spraying them like a firehose. “Besides, God knows you stretched me well enough last night.”

His concern turned to smugness and he crooked his finger slightly. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Bastard.”

The playful insult came out a little breathy as Sirius leaned his head back against the wall, losing himself to Remus’ practiced movements and damp, smooth skin touching him everywhere, everywhere, everywhere. Something blunt and quite a bit slicker nudged his entrance after a moment—after a slow exhale on Remus’ part and a whine from Sirius, he was in to the hilt with all ten fingers gripping Sirius’ hips.

“Oh, fuck.” Sirius was rather winded for reasons he couldn’t spare the braincells to name, and Remus laughed under his breath as he began to move. “Oh, fuck.”

“Shh.”

“I can’t.”

“I know you can.”

“I don’t want to,” Sirius corrected, rocking his hips to match Remus’ thrusts. His fingers began to get sore from holding the stall so tight, but heat was building in his gut and he was hard enough to almost hurt in the best way. “God, there.”

“Not god, just me.”

He flicked his arm with a teasing grin. “Smartass. This is exciting.”

“Uh-huh.” Remus caught him by the thigh as his other knee buckled after a particularly nice angle. “Can’t hold you, can’t hold you, baby—”

“Got it,” Sirius managed, propping himself up again. A clunky door echoed in a faraway corridor and he heard Remus’ breath catch. “Keep going.”

“Someone’s gonna hear.”

“So?” He quirked an eyebrow and wrapped his free arm around Remus’ upper chest, drawing him even closer for a kiss that was more tongue than lips. “That’s the whole point, right?”

“The point—” Remus punctuated his words with a harder thrust that left Sirius’ scrabbling for grip on the wet tiles with a shaky sound. “—is that we could get caught. We could get caught, and then everyone would see how whiny, and needy, and lovely you are while you’re begging for me.”

“Oh my god,” Sirius practically whimpered. He swallowed hard and wrapped his leg tighter around Remus’ waist.

The water was starting to lose some of its heat, but he was dizzy with lust, and pure pleasure dripped like wildfire through his veins. “Actually, I think they already know,” Remus murmured into the hollow of his throat, leaving a light bite there. “Our friends don’t need to find us fucking in the showers, do they? They just need to take one look at you and they’ll know that as soon as I get you between the sheets, you’re a wreck.”

Sirius’ eyes fluttered shut; he couldn’t seem to close his mouth anymore, nor could he muffle the short, guttural sounds slipping out with every quick movement. His left leg was completely numb; it was a miracle it hadn’t given out yet.

“But no,” Remus continued, hoisting him back up into the proper place with a huff. “No, we just have to be that couple that sneaks into the locker room an hour before call time because we just love to tempt fate.”

“This was—your idea—too,” Sirius panted.

“Yeah, because I can’t keep my hands off you.”

He melted into Remus’ palms as they ran along his ribs and back, then down to his ass to give it a firm squeeze. “Close?” he asked, half-slurred.

“Not as close as you.”

His free leg tried to buckle again as Remus stroked along his shaft, but he forced it to stay steady and settled for gritting his teeth around a loud moan that would surely give them away. Remus smiled and upped the pace, but kept his hips moving at the exact same speed. The contrast made Sirius’ head spin. “Please, please, please, please—”

Teeth sank into the junction of his shoulder and all the air fled his lungs. “What else do you want, baby?”

“I don’t know.” It came out far needier than he intended, but who cared? Stars were already popping at the corners of his vision, and he couldn’t even feel the lukewarm water very much anymore.

“Come.”

“I c—”

“Now.”

Sirius took one shallow breath, two, and then shuddered apart, leaning all his weight into the tiles while Remus pulled out and came on his inner thigh. Through his hazy vision, he saw they still had about forty minutes until any of the others would show up. “Love you. Oh, fuck yeah,” he sighed.

Remus made a questioning noise against his collarbone; Sirius felt his heartbeat pounding under his hand.

“We’ve got time to spare.”

“Thank god,” Remus said with a breathless laugh. “I don’t actually want anyone to catch us.”

“Sounds like a nightmare,” Sirius agreed. “I think I’d rather—”

“Sup, Mad-Eye?”

Both of them froze in place as a cheerful voice rang out down the hallway. Sneakers squeaked on the linoleum floors, drawing closer every second. Sirius had gone ice cold, but he didn’t think it was just the shower’s fault.

“Go, go, go!” Remus hissed, yanking away.

Unfortunately, Sirius’ thigh decided that was the perfect moment to cramp so hard it made his vision go white for a second. As soon as his foot touched the ground, his whole hamstring seized, and he doubled over with a strained “motherfucker!”

“Get up!”

“I can’t!”

James’ footsteps were getting louder. Sirius cursed under his breath and limped after Remus into the shitty little janitor’s closet in the corner, wedging himself next to a mop as he bit down on his knuckles to stifle the pained groans building in his throat. Remus shot him an apologetic look and squeezed his hand in sympathy.

The closet was not meant for much more than a handful of emergency cleaning supplies, let alone two mid-season-muscled hockey players. They were pressed chest-to-chest, holding their breath as doom approached.

Well, not doom. Just utter, world-ending humiliation. Not the kinky kind, either.

James whistled to himself as he neared the locker room—two seconds after Sirius buried his face in the side of Remus’ neck to breathe through the agony in his leg, the door slammed open and his best friend began clattering around.

All of a sudden, the room fell silent. Shit.

“Hello?” James called, sounding much too amused for his own good. “Anyone in here?”

Sirius’ pulse hammered in his ears.

“Huh. Looks like somebody left the shower on,” James said with a dramatic gasp. “And what’s this? Two whole duffel bags?”

Fuck, Remus mouthed as Sirius straightened up with a wince.

James started laughing. Deep, deep in his soul, Sirius knew he had spotted the aloe. The squeaking stopped just outside the closet. “Good morning,” James singsonged, though he didn’t open the door.

Remus opened his mouth, resigned, but Sirius jabbed him in the chest with his pointer finger and shot him a warning look. They weren’t going to engage in conversation while naked and crammed in a janitor’s closet. Especially not when James Potter was on the other side.

“I think it’s a little early for all this, but I could be wrong.” He could almost see James shrugging through the thick wood. “I suppose you’ve gotta take what free time you have. Cap, your showers are a lot nicer than these, though. At least they stay warm for more than a few minutes.”

Remus thudded his forehead against Sirius’ sternum.

“Alright, alright,” James said after a moment of quiet. “If anyone were to perhaps be hiding after getting off in the shitty team showers at seven in the morning—at least, I hope you got off—they should feel free to come out of the closet in a much more literal sense because I am leaving. And I will be out of the locker room for five minutes. Once again, that is five minutes, and then I will be back in here to get ready for my job like a responsible adult.”

The door opened and closed again with a click. They both waited with bated breath.

“Ugh, fine,” James groaned. The hinges creaked, his footsteps faded, and there was a loud slam as it shut for real.

“I’m going to kill him,” Sirius said as they shuffled out of the closet, knocking over several spray bottles in the process. “Really, I will.”

“I’ll help you bury the body,” Remus said wearily as he tossed the aloe back in his bag with a sigh. “That was horrific. Think we can sneak out and back in without him noticing?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes at the door. “The son of a bitch will be waiting for us. It’s better to just accept our fate and let him have this.”

“We’re putting shaving cream in his gloves after this, right?”

“Actually, I think Vaseline would be better.”

[alaezasmystery235]

Thank you so much for the card. Omg Lakshmi card!!🥰❤Cant express how happy I am currently on receiving that card since many days I have been worrying about my future. Everything gonna be fine 😌. Relaxing message. And yes that red dress omg I wanna really buy that someday along with that black blazzer. I have been into these dresses from such a long time. The perfect black + red combo🖤❤. The business woman style

🥺 Yes omo we need to fit in that red one. Also one more thing. PLEASEEE DROP YOUR LIPCAREE.

Haha glad you resonated with it . Also my lips are always like that since childhood 💋 . Maybe stop using lipstick everyday since it contains chemical , or always wipe of your lipstick before going to bed with coconut oil , it's so damn good and apply only Vaseline. And our home remedy it's actually known by everyone specially Indians , cream on milk 🥛 it's gonna make your lips smooth and pinkish 💕.

[femmefatalevibe]

Hello! I love your blog and would like to ask for your advice. I want to look like an elegant, expensive woman. However, I am having a hard time applying makeup and setting up a skin care routine. Do you have an tips or resources on how to wear makeup elegantly and care for one's skin (for those new to makeup and skin care)?

What are the basic products needed for a dewy, classy make up look? Do you have any tutorials?

What are the basic products needed for healthy, minimal skin care routine?

Thank you for reading this ask! Have a great day!

Hi love! Sharing some of my tips below:

Skin:

Always use a disposable cloth when washing your face: Regular towels store bacteria and can cause breakouts too easily. These facial wipes from Amazon are my holy grail.

Wear sunscreen daily: Yes, even when you spend all day indoors. UV rays can interact with your skin through windows, too.

Niacinamide, Vitamin C Hyaluronic Acid, & Tea Tree Oil are among the few skincare ingredients almost everyone should consider incorporating into their skincare routine.

Learn the correct order to apply the products in your skincare routine: Cleanser, Toner, Serum, Eye Cream, Spot Treatment, Moisturizer, Sunscreen (or Retinol/Skin Oil at night).

Remember: From a dermatologist's perspective, your face starts (or ends) at your nipples. So, ensure you're cleansing, exfoliating, and applying sunscreen daily to your neck, chest, and décolletage to keep your skin smooth, youthful, and well-hydrated.

Vaseline is a great (affordable) alternative to traditional eye creams.

Sugar scrub your facial hair for a more gentle alternative to waxing (Combine sugar, lemon, and water). Laser hair removal, especially under your arms and your arms/legs is life-changing.

Follow up a warm shower with a dry brush and coconut oil for smoother, firmer skin.

Always apply a hydrating lip balm, mask, or Vaseline, hand cream, and moisturizer to your feet before going to sleep.

Layer complementary scents. Ensure the scents of body wash, lotion, and perfume work well together and don't clash.

Makeup:

Learn your skin undertones and educate yourself on color theory (I can create a short ebook/PDF if you want some more educational content on these types of topics – I write about them for a living!).

Test any foundation, concealer, or face powder on your wrists, too.

Don't forget to color-match your bronze and blush: They can appear orange or muddy if you don't find a product with the correct shade or undertones for your skin type.

Invest in products that go on your face, brow products, and eyeliners. Great mascaras and lip products are easy to find at a drugstore or relatively cheap (I suggest Covergirl and NYX, respectively).

Apply concealer in a triangle; don't dot it around your eyes for better coverage.

If you have oily skin (or it's humid outside), apply powder before your liquid/cream products. Set them again with a light powder to lock the color in.

Apply mascara from tip to base for the best lashes of your life: One coat on the tip, another from middle to tip, and the last coat from base to tip.

In a pinch, use a fragrance-free moisturizer and a Q-tip to remove excess makeup (no more raccoon eyes).

Use a light nude or white eyeshadow underneath your brow to make them appear more defined.

Apply face powder under your eyes to help the eyeliner on your waterline last longer.

Create a simple daily makeup routine formula: 1 skin coverage (foundation/concealer), 1 skin color (a favorite blush or bronzer), brows, mascara, an eye-definer (eyeliner or shadow), and a signature "your lips but better" lip shade (1-2 shades deeper or lighter than your natural lip color): This formula provides you the basics, so you never have an excuse not to put yourself together for the day (5-10 minute routine here).

Discover your day-to-night hero product: Always keep a slightly deeper lipstick, a smoky eyeshadow, or liquid liner in your bag to transition your day look into the evening with one portable product.

Hope this helps xx

[songbirdstyles]

whole lotta love.

summary: you patch spencer up after a particularly difficult case.

warnings: pure smut, fluff if you squint

pairing: spencer reid x reader

word count: 4.5k

song inspo.: whole lotta love - led zeppelin

For all intents and purposes, you’ve gotten very used to the less-than-glamorous aspects of Spencer’s job.

Sure, you don’t love when the familiar ding of his phone stops whatever he’s doing in its tracks, whether you two are curled up in bed at 2 AM or pressed against the wall together, your fingers furiously fiddling with the buttons of his dress shirt to get it off as fast as possible. One notification from his phone and he’s wincing, giving you an apologetic kiss and a promise to call you as soon as we land. 

But - well, you hadn’t really had much of a choice besides getting used to that one. And it hasn’t been as bad as you’d initially expected because Spencer never fails to call you every night (calling only, no matter how many times you try to convince him to get a better phone so you two can FaceTime) and it does feel pretty worth it when he comes home and tells you about the case, about a victim the team had saved or an unsub they’d apprehended.

That being said, you still haven’t gotten used to the nights where he comes home looking like this.

“Jesus Christ, Spencer,” you murmur, bringing your palms up instinctively to press to his face. Your thumbs stroke along his cheek where a slash highlights the bone and the black and blue shadow surrounding his left eye. You’re nearly positive there are more wounds you can’t see - you’ll check - but you hate seeing him come home so beat up. “What the hell happened?”

“The EMTs checked me out,” Spencer explains, larger hands wrapping around your wrist and tugging your hands off of his face. He doesn’t like to be doted on and you know that, but it isn’t as though you can just ignore how he looks. “I’m fine. They’re just superficial cuts.”

You furrow your eyebrows, feeling his hands slide down your wrist until your fingers can intertwine with his, palm flush against his just the way you like it. “You look like you lost a wrestling match.”

Your boyfriend laughs at that, taking a step away from you and leading you from the foyer of your shared apartment towards the sitting room. “We saved two little girls, though,” he tells you, and that brings a smile to your face as you tug him towards the sitting room couch. “You know, it was really lucky - 99% of abducted children die in the first 24 hours -”

“ - 75% in the first three hours and 44% in the first,” you finish, pushing Spencer onto the couch just as a grin begins to spread across his face. “I’ve heard you mention it so many times, I may as well remember it.”

“It is useful to know.”

“For you, maybe.” You lean down to press one gentle kiss to his lips before padding off towards the bathroom, pulling open one of the carefully organized first aid drawers to search for what you need. “Just stay there, Spence.”

He merely hums in response and you can imagine him - exhausted to the bone - sinking into the cushions of the couch, surely ready to sleep, but you know you won’t be able to rest until you patch him up. Seeing him beaten up is more common than you’d prefer but it doesn’t mean you have to like it, necessarily - even though you have to say you’ve gotten quite good at cleaning cuts.

Just as you pick up a small rag, turning on the sink to soak the cloth with cold water, Spencer calls from the sitting room, “Make sure you remember the Vaseline. Hydrates the wound and provides an occlusive layer which keeps the wound covered.”

You snort, digging through the drawer until you find the small tub of petroleum jelly that you always resort to when cleaning him up before turning off the sink, ringing out the washcloth so it doesn’t drip on the floor. “I know,” you call back, using your elbow to flick off the lightswitch before crossing the apartment to the kitchen, pretending like you don’t see Spencer’s gaze following you from the couch. “Come on, honey. This isn’t my first rodeo, you know?”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs as you pull open the freezer, pressing the back of your hand to each unopened bag of frozen vegetables to find the coldest one - as it turns out, it’s the peas, buried deep in the freezer, and you pull the bag out before shutting the door once more. 

Vaseline and cloth in one hand and the cold bag of peas in the other, you flash Spencer a small smile as you turn to walk back to the sitting room. One short glance to the clock mounted on the wall tells you that it’s nearly 11 but you’re not nearly as tired as you’d expect, and, as you wiggle your eyes at your boyfriend as you stand between his open legs, you don’t reckon Spencer is, either.

It’s an easy maneuver to climb on top of him, legs straddling his thighs until you’re settled in his lap and your bodies fit together like they were made for each other. You can practically hear his heart thumping through his dress shirt and you’d love nothing more than to lean down and unbutton his shirt, press lingering kisses to every bit of exposed skin, but there are more pressing matters - your own needs can wait until later.

You can feel Spencer’s hands, softly touching the backs of your thighs, fingertips drumming against the smooth skin. Even when you’re so close you can feel his hesitation with being intimate like this, how he’s careful not to press too hard as if he’ll break you and you shift backwards on his lap, deepening his grasp on your thighs and he smiles softly.

(Both of you pretend not to notice the slight bulge in his pants, pressing against you as you raise the cool bag of peas to his black eye.)

“Do you want me to hold it?” Spencer questions, letting his right eye flutter closed as you dab at the slice on his cheek with your cloth, the cool water dripping down the sharp lines of his cheekbones towards his jawline. “The peas, I mean.”

“No,” you’re quick to respond, and you’re sure he’s having no difficulty profiling exactly why you’d rather him keep his hands right where they are. “I’ve got it.”

His voice is hardly above a breath as he murmurs alright, tilting his head towards you as you rub gently at the cut before leaning forward, chest pressed close to his as you lazily toss the rag onto the table sitting behind the couch. Now you can feel his heart beating - or maybe it’s yours? - and when you shift back to your previous position, you can’t possibly help yourself from leaning down, slotting your lips against his and feeling his tongue instinctively slip into your mouth.

Hands slide up your thighs, pausing for a brief moment to grope at your ass before continuing their trek upwards. Your free hand not holding the makeshift ice pack to his eye tangles in his hair, fingertips digging in his scalp as his arms wrap securely around your waist, hips bucking up into yours and that’s when you pull away. Smooth your fingers through his hair, watch the way he swallows thickly, lips moist with the mixture of your saliva.

“Sorry,” you murmur, dragging your hand from his head down to his cheek, cupping his face in your palm as he leans into your touch. He looks almost betrayed, bottom lip perking out in a pout and you sigh. “I have to patch you up, Spence.”

“I’ll be fine,” Spencer insists, sliding his hands up your waist as you work at opening the cap of the Vaseline. Your fingers are still wet from clutching the cloth and trying to do it one handed proves to be useless, and your boyfriend reluctantly pulls his hands from your waist to open the jelly for you with an ease that sends heat creeping up your cheeks before returning his palms back to their spot. “Do you know how many times I’ve gotten cut on the job?”

“I don’t think I want to know.” You dip your finger into the Vaseline and bring it up to his cheekbones, dabbing it gently on the cut. When you’ve finished you rub the jelly off of your finger and onto your sleep shorts, cringing at the slimy feeling before reaching for the bandaid sitting between your bodies. “I’m almost done.”

You fumble with the band aid, pulling both plastic pieces off the ends before pressing yourself closer to Spencer, holding the bag of peas to his eye with your forearm as you grip the adhesive with both hands. Steady fingers press the sticky band aid to his newly cleaned cut, making sure it’s perfectly centered over the injury before smoothing your fingers over it, giving it one light slap to make sure it stuck.

“Voila,” you exhale, sitting backwards to examine your work. “All done.”

“Thank God,” Spencer sighs, and you have just one spare moment of lingering eye contact before he’s pushing his head up, lips pressing to yours so intensely that you’re nearly overwhelmed by it. Immediately you part your lips for him, feeling his tongue slip into your mouth as you arch your back, chest pressed against his as you lean into his touch. The bag you’d been clutching to his eye drops from your grasp, falling between your bodies as you press both palms to the side of his face, grinning against his mouth as he jumps. “Your hands are so cold.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, feeling his fingertips creep up your back, pushing your shirt up until his palms are pressed to your bare skin, a chill rolling up your spine, and a soft whine emits from your throat into his mouth just as his fingers begin toying with the clasp of your bra. “Don’t tease, Spence - take it off, please.”

He exhales into your mouth and you furrow your eyebrows, pulling away from him and dropping your forehead against his. “You’re so impatient.” And then his hands slide back down your back, away from the clasp you’re desperate for him to undo. “It makes sense - you’re always extra needy when I come home from missions. Getting off through the phone isn’t as good as the real thing, is it? Not for you.”

A soft sigh escapes your lips as Spencer leans forward, lips attaching to the underside of your jaw and you can feel him suckling softly on the soft skin, surely looking to leave one of the lasting marks that he loves to examine days after he makes them. Perhaps it’s because of the long distance nature of his job that he enjoys marking you up, making sure anyone with wandering eyes knows that you’re accounted for even when he’s not with you, or maybe he just likes claiming you as his own - either way, you wouldn’t dare to object. “Don’t profile me,” you plead, head tilting backwards as Spencer’s lips pull off of your jawline with a soft pop, thumb stroking over the skin he’d been assaulting as if to assess whether the hickey he’d left is adequate. “Come on, Spence.”

You reach down for the bottom of your tank top, pulling the offending fabric up and over your head without another moment of hesitation. The shirt is discarded, tossed to a corner of the sitting room and you don’t bother confirming where it goes - you just loop your arms around your boyfriend’s neck, leaning in to kiss him again but he stops you, tugging on your bra strap with not nearly enough strength to prevent your movement but you accept the gesture, leaning backwards until your eyes connect with his.

“Can’t you just indulge me?” you question, arching your back into Spencer’s touch as his hands move from around your back to your chest, palms cupping your tits through your bra. “Please?”

There’s another pause, Spencer’s fingertips dipping into the cups of your bra, palms warm against your chest. “Well, since you asked nicely.”

You smile, leaning in to attach your lips to his, teeth gently sinking into his bottom lip just as he pulls down the straps of your bra, letting them fall down your arms so he can pull the cups down over your breasts. Fingertips pinch your nipples and you whine into his mouth, pushing your chest further into his hands as he slips his tongue into your mouth.

For a minute you go on just like that - hands on your tits, groping the skin and thumbing your nipples until you pull your lips from his, gasping in a breath as you rock your hips against the bulge in his pants. “Fuck,” he breathes as your fingers go to the buttons of his shirt, pulling them open one by one to expose more and more of his chest to you, and your head dips down to press a kiss to his collarbone just as you’d fantasized doing before.

When you’ve undone every button you pull both halves of his shirt apart, tugging the sleeves down his arms and he removes his hands from your body so you can pull it off - it’s thrown in another direction much like your tank top and you’re more than grateful to have Spencer’s entire torso exposed to you. Hands smooth up and down his chest, feeling his skin burst up in goosebumps beneath your touch and you watch his mouth part open with pleasure before leaning forward again, slotting your lips against his once more.

“Take my bra off,” you beg, and his eyebrows arch upwards like the request was simply blasphemous. “Please, Spence - please - want you to touch me -”

“I am touching you.” And to prove his point his hands smooth up and down your waist, fingertips drumming your skin. 

Your eyes drift shut as Spencer’s hips roll up into yours, prominent bulge brushing against your clit even through your sleep shorts and you focus your hands on his shoulders, using your grasp as leverage to rock your hips further into his. “Just take it off - don’t tease me, please!”

You’re not sure whether it’s his own desires to strip you down or if he’s not interested in teasing you any longer but no matter - Spencer’s fingers slide up your back, briefly fiddling with the clasp of your bra before undoing it and the cups fall away from your chest, straps sliding down your arms and you pull it off, tossing it over the top of the couch. The coldness of the apartment bites at your skin and a shiver rolls through your spine, the sensation only heightened as Spencer ducks his head down, tongue flicking against your nipple before his lips close around it, cheeks hollowing as he sucks the hollow bud and you throw your head back with a loud cry.

“Take your shorts off,” Spencer mumbles, voice muffled against your tits and you oblige, shaky hands dropping to tug the tie on your shorts free. It’s a struggle to pull them off your legs while straddling him, his arms wrapping around your back to hold your chest to his mouth as you maneuver the fabric until you can drop it over the side of the couch, leaving you only in your panties and he’s quick to take advantage of your new near-nudeness. Hands slide down your back, fingers hooking in the hem of your thong and palms groping your ass and whatever shyness he’d had before about groping your thighs is gone - when things get going he’s fucking unstoppable and that’s what you love. 

You drag your hands down his chest, fingertips dragging feather-light on his stomach before you reach his lap, undoing the button on his pants and pulling the zipper down. His hips buck upwards when your fingertips brush the bulge in his boxers and you bite back your smile, resting your forehead against his once more as you pull the hem of his underwear down over his cock, hand wrapping around his erection without another second of hesitation and Spencer’s head drops back onto the cushion, a low groan emitting from his throat.

His fingers follow the hem of your thong around your hips until he’s tracing the fabric covering your pussy, cloth soaked with your arousal and even just the slightest touch has you whining out, grasp tightening around his cock. “I need to be inside you,” Spencer murmurs, and the words are so filth-laden that you moan out again, feeling his fingers pull your panties to the side until his digits dip through your folds, circling your clit and smirking at the way you tremor above him. “You want that too, don’t you? I can tell - you’re shaking and you keep making those little noises.”

Don’t profile me is what you would say if you were in any other state of mind but the only thing you can think to respond with is a soft moan, dropping your head back as Spencer leans in, lips closing in around your throat again. Your hand pumps his cock, thighs quivering in their efforts to hold yourself above him, and his hand that isn’t holding your panties to the side mercifully slides to your ass, holding you up as you align him with your entrance. Slowly you sink down onto him - for a guy so skinny he’s bigger than you’d expect and you always need to start slow to adjust - and within seconds you’ve bottomed out, feeling his cock buried deeper inside of you than you could ever imagine, and the two of you collectively lean in to press your lips together, moans landing inside each other’s mouths.

“Oh, God,” you breathe, shifting closer to him so your chests brush together and Spencer’s arm tightens around your back, holding you as tight to him as possible. He knows enough to give you a moment’s adjustment period, body quivering as he struggles to stay still but he’d never dream of moving until you’re perfectly comfortable. “Okay - move, Spence - I’m ready - need you to fuck me -”

He nods immediately, fingernails scratching into the sides of your waist as you pull yourself up, lifting until only the tip of his cock remains buried in your pussy before sinking back down, head pulling away from his to drop back in ecstasy at the sensation. Immediately you feel Spencer’s head bury itself in the junction between your neck and shoulder, breath hot and lips puckered against your skin as he presses a permanent kiss to the side of your throat, arms around your body helping you move up and down on him. 

It takes a moment for you two to work yourselves into a groove, feeling Spencer’s teeth dig into your throat as you sink back down onto him over and over again - but once you do it feels fucking miraculous, rolling your hips back and forth so your clit brushes against his pelvic bone. Your palms press to the sides of his face, feeling the light dusting of facial hair beneath your touch and you nearly want to pull his head up, smash your lips together until you’re breathless but the way he’s suckling dark marks around your throat feels so good and you’re not sure you’re willing to give it up - you compromise by looping your arms around his neck, fingernails scratching into the base of his neck.

“God, Spencer,” you moan, your speed picking up as you lift yourself off of him and slam back down, feeling his breathing pick up into your neck as his nails dig so deep into your waist that it nearly hurts but in the best fucking way possible. He loves when you praise him - you know that - and you never have an issue indulging him. “Feels so good - filling me so good -”

And there’s that telltale groan into your neck followed by Spencer pulling his lips from your throat and when your eyes meet his they’re clouded with lust, pupils drowning out the normal chocolate tone of his orbs that you love to see but hell if you don’t adore seeing him like this. His mouth drops open with a silent groan as you grind your hips into his, tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck just the way you know he likes.

Your thighs burn vehemently as you struggle to keep yourself upright, the urge to merely collapse into your boyfriend’s strong arms nearly overwhelming but your desire to prolong the pleasure coursing through your body far outweighs it. Spencer can feel your struggle - it’s the profiler in him, you’d assume - and his arms slowly unwrap from around your body, palms landing on the underside of your ass and using the leverage to work you up and down. It doesn’t do much to alleviate the slight burn in your muscle but you appreciate it and so you lean in, pull Spencer’s face close to yours and close your lips to his once more.

“Gonna fill you up,” Spencer grunts and the words send your stomach turning just as his cock brushes that sweet spot deep inside of you that has your back arching, dropping your head into his shoulder with a desperate sob. “You want that?”

You nod desperately, eyes burning with tears derived from the pure ecstasy afflicting your body as you unwind one of your arms from his neck, pressing two of your fingers to your clit and rubbing small circles into the sensitive bud. Spencer typically always wears a condom - better safe than sorry is his motto - but it never stops him from hissing into your ear every time about how much he wants to fill you up and you fucking yearn for it, too. You need it. “Do it, Spence - please, I want you t - to fill me up.”

His hips thrust up into yours, meeting you halfway as a breathy groan escapes his throat. “I can’t -”

“I went on birth control, Spence, you can.”

He pauses - you lift your head up to look at him, hips briefly slowing down in their relentless rocking against his. “You know, on average the pill is only 91% effective.”

You grin, leaning in to press a kiss to Spencer’s lips as his hips begin to roll up into yours again, his fingertips digging into the globes of your ass. “Let’s take our chances.”

It seems to be a good enough answer to him and so he nods, sweaty curls dropping onto his forehead and you bring your free hand up, pushing his hair back as your other hand focuses on circling your clit, sending lightning bolts of pleasure through your body. You’re so close you can practically taste your impending release on the tip of your tongue and you know Spencer’s almost there, too - can feel his cock, twitching deep inside of you, surely mere seconds away from imploding - and you clench around him just as you pinch your clit between your fingers and -

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder and you never appreciate just how true the sentiment is until reunion sex with Spencer. After nearly a week of not seeing or touching each other your orgasm is fucking miraculous, stars dotting your vision as you throw your head back and your entire body feels like it’s floating, pleasure rolling through your body like a tsunami intent on destruction in the greatest way possible. You ground your hips into his, forcing him inside you to the hilt as your cunt flutters around his cock and you barely hear his loud moan, the noise growing higher as his hips buck into yours and then you can feel him cumming, the sensation hot in your core as he spurts inside of you.

“Oh, fuck,” Spencer groans, smoothing his hands up your back as your hips roll against his, riding out both of your orgasms as you drop your head into his shoulder, feeling his lips land against your temple. “That’s - God, that’s so good.”

Yes, it is. It feels so fucking good, feeling him cumming deep inside of you and it’s all you can do to sit there and take it in, body going nearly limp against his until his arms are the only thing holding you up, his hands massaging your back as you let your eyes shut, focusing solely on steadying your breathing as the aftershocks of your release course through your veins.

There’s a second of silence - only a second, where the only noise from either of you is the sound of your panting, both of you desperate to catch your breath in the wake of it all - and then Spencer leans backwards, your chests pressed together as you press your lips to his cheek, feeling rather than seeing his lips turn upwards into a smile.

“Maybe I should get beat up by an unsub more often,” your boyfriend mumbles, smoothing his fingers through your hair, and you lift your head up to rest your chin to his shoulder, narrowing your eyes.

“You’d better not.” You shift on his lap, the burn in your muscles settling into a dull ache but you don’t have the energy to readjust - it’s a pain you don’t quite dislike, anyway. “I hate seeing you all cut up. I can’t believe anyone would want to ruin this pretty face.”

You raise your hand up, playfully smacking his cheek twice and he smiles. Then his hands grip onto your waist, lifting you up just a bit until his softened cock slips out of you and with just a bit of maneuvering he lies you down on the couch, shifting until he’s spooning you, chest pressed to your back and your heads resting on the cushion. One glance down tells you that this position can’t possibly be comfortable for him, his leg bent awkwardly and the other thrown over the edge of the couch but when he wraps his arms around your body you can’t bring it in yourself to mind too much.

The cool air of his apartment bites at your skin but it’s relieving, feeling the cold wash away the sweat built up on your skin from being so close to him - it’s a contrast you’re grateful for and it’s the reason you don’t tug the afghan hanging over the back of the couch over your bodies.

Well, you suppose that for every shortcoming of dating someone with a job like his there’s a bonus. And this - feeling his arms tight around your body, head pressed back into his chest with his heartbeat in your ears and his soft breathing onto your head - you’d certainly consider it a bonus.

[littlemisslipbalm]

Harry borrows your balmdotcom and loves it

Summary: Harry and you are out shopping for birthday presents and he asks to borrow some of your lipbalm, then cuteness. 

the gif is exactly what y/n tells him to do after applying the lip balm

Just a sweet little short thing I’ve been wanting to write, I think Harry would love glossier lip balm - the flavors and all the packaging lol

Word Count: 1.0k | No warnings, just couple FLUFF

-

“Hey babe?” Harry called to you as you looked around the little street.

You had gone out in London today, having a small little shopping day before you had to fly back to the states for your mom and sister’s upcoming birthdays.

It was mid-June and London was actually quite nice for once. Not muggy at all and the sun was shining. You and Harry had wandered down a small cobblestone street in search of an antique store that might have the perfect items for your family member’s gifts. You loved walking around town with Harry. At least in London. In London, especially this part of it, he wasn’t being constantly followed by paparazzi or stopped by fans. Fans were great, they were always so sweet to your couple, but when it was a constant flow of them, it was hard to get the things you went out to do done.

“Yeah, H?”

“My lip balm’s run out, have you got any on ya?”

You dug about in your purse, normally you wouldn’t carry one, but since you were planning on buying gifts you figured you could slip the small purchases in your purse to be a little more inconspicuous. Finally, feeling the smooth body of the tube, you pulled out your glossier lip balm. Maybe it was mainstream or simply flavored vaseline with a high pricetag, but you didn’t care, you loved the way it made your lips feel and its scent.

Your legs carried you over to Harry’s side, he was still admiring a shops window display a ways back up the street from you. You opened the little tube and took a bit of the balm onto your fingertip. Reaching up with your other hand to turn Harry’s head towards you, you dabbed the balm on your fingertip slowly onto Harry’s puckered lips. Your finger spread it first on his lower lip and added the last bit right at his cupid’s bow. Then, you rubbed your lips together, prompting Harry to do the same.

“All done.”

Harry quirked a brow your way and swiped his tongue out a bit to check his thought. As you were about to tell him not to lick his lips he asked, “Is it mango-flavored?”

“Yeah, why? Do you like it?”

He smiled preciously at you before leaning down to press his freshly-balmed lips against yours. He pulled away and then left one more peck on your lips. His arms encircled your waist, bringing your body closer to him, “‘M gonna need to get my own. Was always wondering how your lips tasted so fucking good.”

Your figures stood in the center of the tiny street, pressed together. Touching his chest gently, you smiled happily up to him.

“You’ll have to bring us to New York or Los Angeles sometime, they’ve only got shops there.”

“Can’t you just order online?”

“Yeah...But think how much fun it’d be to go to the shop together. It’s all pink and cute in there!”

Harry laughed at your excitement from describing the store. He shifted to only hold your hand as you walked down the street together. His thumb rubbed against the back of your hand, you chose to swing your arms back and forth playfully.

“Alright, well, when we go to see your family, I’m sure we could jaunt down to Los Angeles-”

“Or!” you cut him off, “We could stop in New York on the way back to London for a few days? It’d actually be less out of the way…”

“You’re so smart, love.”

“I know,” you stated simply.

Next to you was the shop you had come in search of, an old antiques place that you were sure had exactly what you wanted for both your mother and sister. Pushing through the heavy door, you made your way into the quaint shop. Harry beamed as he followed you in, filled with pride for his girlfriend. Moving quickly, you walked straight up to the front desk where the owner sat. There you asked them about the specific items you were looking for. The woman nodded and motioned for you to follow her into the backroom. You grabbed Harry’s hand once again and set off behind the woman. She found the items easily and you examined them carefully.

“What do you think, will Heather like this?”

“Yes, Y/N, I think she’ll absolutely adore it!”

Your smile spread across your face. Harry had only met your sister a handful of times and they had got along relatively well, but you liked hearing Harry give his opinion nonetheless.

Before you can asks a question about the other item Harry says, “And your mum, she’ll be ecstatic over this! How do you even know where to find these things?” He handed back the object, “You’re an amazing gift giver, love, like everything you’ve ever gotten me feels so personal and well-thought out.” You blushed at his words.

The shop owner smiled at the two of you, “You two are a wonderful couple, how long have you been together?”

In unison the pair of you chimed, “Just about six months, yeah?” looking to each other for approval and then laughing when realizing you’d said the exact same thing. Harry placed his hand on your lower back as the owner nodded and brought you back to the register in the front.

As she rang up the items and neatly packaged them up, much to your delight, she asked about how you met and how you were together. Smiling, Harry and you answered her questions. It was nice to tell a kind stranger all about your relationship that the two of you were so thrilled to be in. Once she had finished up all the payment and packaging she said, “Well, all I can say is you’re both glowing.” You both thanked her as you exited the shop.

Once outside, Harry took you in his arms, wrapping one around your waist and the other between your shoulder blades in order to cradle you, and kissed you sweetly.

After he pulled away, his lips lingering close to yours, you laughed, “Can still taste the mango on your lips.”

Harry responded by leaning in for one more kiss.

-

@cronias13, @theresthingsthatwellneverknow, @harrys-cherrry, @harrxier

[sarahjkl82-blog]

Artistic Instinct Chapter 7

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 7,150 (being succinct is for wimps)

Warnings: Language, SMUT - this is your warning, no under 18s please.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who read, re-read, pointed out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something!This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

What the artist owes the world is his work, not a model for living.

Harry Crews

Chapter 7

Waking up comes to you slowly and languidly,as if the day was kind enough to filter softly into your eyes through a vaseline focussed lens, not unlike the ones shone onto Ingrid Bergman’s face and projected through Marcus’ iPad last night. Unlike your usual routine of falling out of bed and drifting with eyes still shut tight, in the direction of the kettle to make that all important cup of tea as your alarm sounds, you have instead woken as the first light of day paints the room in soft Degas pastels. Your sleep is normally quite fitful and filled with dreams that you wish didn’t cycle through your head for the rest of the day - but today feels different. Maybe it’s because your pillow is breathing.

Hang on, your pillow is breathing.

Shit, you fell asleep on Marcus.

How fucking professional, you absolute numpty!

Somehow during the night it was no longer just a case of you leaning into his shoulder but rather that your limbs had become confusingly entangled. From what you can work out, you must have both slid down the length of the sofa as whilst your head is still nestled on his shoulder, your forehead has now edged closer to the constellation of freckles on his neck. The steady percussion of his heart cradled within the gentle rise and fall of his chest is directly pressed against yours. Not crowding you despite the precariously narrow ledge you’re both huddled on, just fitting together like the most exquisitely cut puzzle.

For fuck’s sake, woman, what have you gotten yourself into this time?

You have one of the brightest minds in art history and are renowned for solving criminal activity but right now, you have zero idea as to how you will disentangle your limbs without both you and your boss showing willing.

But do you really want to?

There’s also a part of you that just wishes you could stay here- warm, safe and snuggled deeply in his chest. Jasper had always been so bony- all sharp edges and lean whereas Marcus offers a softer and more solid warmth as his body curls languidly around yours. His sleepy strokes and unconscious squeezes send little tingles throughout your body and whilst you’re utterly certain that nothing has happened other than the sheer exhaustion of two adults completely wiping out, you don’t feel ready to shatter the illusion of there being something more.

With the freest limb that’s slung over Marcus’ back, you try to wriggle some feeling into your fingers- psyching your body up to move. In an exchange of roles from the previous day, you stroke his cheek, tucking a curl of hair behind his ear before murmuring gently in his ear,

“Hey.”

Thick eyelashes start twitching before you notice an eye opening, darting around the room before coming in to focus upon your face, “Hey,” a shy grin slowly grows on his face, “I guess I didn’t get to put the comforter on you last night.”

“What?” In utter confusion, you push the back of your head into the cushion of the sofa so that you can angle your head to look more into Marcus’ face.

“I heard your breathing getting heavier last night n’ I thought of how you covered me the night before. Kept thinking I’d manage to do the same for you but you were so soft and warm, that I must’ve drifted off soon after,” his chuckling morning voice still painted with a sleepy rasp.

Giggling and grinning broadly at Marcus’ almost sweet gesture, you gently tease, “Well look, the quilt you nearly put on me, stayed on all night! Didn’t kick it off once.”

“Listen, thanks for not making this as awkward as it should be. No, no, no, I mean it,” Marcus emphasizes emphatically, his forehead wrinkling as his eyes implore you to believe him, “Not sure there are many people, who can wake up next to their new boss after less than 48 hours together and still crack jokes at their expense.”

Finally, working out a way to partially wriggle yourself free, you manage to push yourself into an almost seated position. A small groan and a flush runs through Marcus’ cheeks. And just before he flings his arm across his face to try to obscure his expression, you catch a look of embarrassment in his eyes.

In a low, gentle voice, you try to comfort him, “Come on, you have nothing to be embarrassed about- it’s a normal reaction. I’m going to shuffle across you, if that’s ok? I think it’s the only way we can get out of this tangle without both of us ending up on our arses on the floor.”

You take the small nod from Marcus as confirmation for the manoeuvre and start to crawl over him. Aiming to lift your hips up and away from the source of his embarrassment as possible, you end up overbalancing and tumbling to the floor in a heap of awkward limbs and laughter.

“Hey, you ok?” Marcus’ sleep creased face peers over the edge of the sofa down at you.

It’s now your turn for embarrassment to flush through your very being as you lie there staring at the ceiling rose and cornicing, “Ah I can’t ever pass up an opportunity to demonstrate just how clumsy I am,” you admit thickly through your eyelashes. Perhaps your limbs hadn’t been quite as ready as you’d hoped to carry your weight as you slowly shuffle yourself into a seated position on the deliciously deep pile rug that had cushioned your fall to the floor.

“Although, I may need to ensure that these rugs are kept around me at all times as at least there are no bruises this time. I swear my body is a map of mystery bruises,” you admit as you inspect the skin under your pyjama legs, pointing out inexplicable yellowing bruises.

“Well, Andy can look into that for you around the office,” Marcus says playing along with a wink, surreptitiously enjoying the little flashes you were revealing of your body, “Shame we’ve gotta leave today. I’m beat - but it’s been fun.”

“I’m not sure I’d have ever returned if it wasn’t for your insistence,” you admit, surprised at how the pain in your throat has already lessened to a mild dull ache.

“Guess we’d better get packed up and head off to the airport then.”

You observe Marcus’ bottom lip drop into a small pout, that delicious crease in the middle jutting out as if he was a petulant child rather than a man in his mid forties.

Oh how you’d love to suck...STOP IT! HE IS YOUR FUCKING BOSS, ANUSHKA MEERA LEAH PIERCE!

With an awkward wave and a quick turn of pace to hide the heat coursing through your face, you hightail it out of his room, stubbing your toe as you yank the door open far too viciously,

“SHIT ON IT!” You loudly curse, hearing the sofa creak as Marcus’ weight lifts from it. Not wanting to stick around for his latest sweet gesture when you don’t bloody deserve it, you painfully hop into the cool anonymity of the corridor to nurse your swollen toe.

Fucking smooth, Nush. REALLY fucking smooth.

✪✪✪✪✪

SLAM!

Marcus stands there, still slightly bleary eyed and dazed after experiencing some of the worst emotional whiplash he’s ever felt. How do you go from being genuinely sweet over feeling the morning glory of someone you barely know poking you in the belly to virtually running from the room and hurting yourself in the process to supposedly go pack your suitcase? Your words and actions seem so divergent- in total opposition to one another. Almost as if your brain and being are constantly at war with each other.

In one breath, you’ll tease him mercilessly, amaze him with the depth of your knowledge and the next you’ll shut off completely as if sharing even the time of day, would destroy you. You jump away from him as if it wasn’t the coffee that burns you but his touch and then, you lean into him, snoring sweetly with your face buried into his chest. He wants to shake you and scream WHAT DO YOU WANT in the same way that Ryan Gosling does in The Notebook, but life isn’t a romantic film. Something he’s never truly accepted.

Scrunching his eyes and scratching his head, rubbing the deep crevices that littered his brow, Marcus wonders what his next move will be. Should he run after you to check your foot? Wrap you in his arms and tell you that it will all be ok? Risk you running further from him? Unsure of whether your door would even open to him, Marcus sighs deeply before taking a few steps away from the sofa and tumbling face forward towards his as yet unslept upon bed.

Get it together, Pike.

How much of your constant pestering pushed Teresa away? It’s not a cute quirk, it’s fucking needy - and you need to stop before everyone runs from you.

Burying his face into the comforter, Marcus releases a deeply frustrated growl into its thick squishy noise-absorbing softness before using the springs of the bed to flip himself onto his back. Feeling his pulse throbbing a nervous beat in his neck, he shuts his eyes. All he can see is you. He can smell the tiniest imprints of your perfume and shampoo upon his t-shirt.

You’re fucking feral, Pike.

Feeling the blood rush to his groin as images of your face, bra strap and legs dance through his head, Marcus slides a hand under the waistband of his joggers to give himself a soothing stroke. He enjoys playing with himself as much as the next man- rubbing, stroking, cupping- but right now, all he can imagine is your hand being wrapped around it. Your hand gripping his cock - your skin so fucking soft - building up a rhythmic pleasure as you stare deep into his eyes.

Oh, fuck it.

With a quick arch of his hips, Marcus pulls down his pants in one smooth motion to allow himself full access to his dick. The immense pressure building and tightening as he works the shaft developing a pleasing rhythm whilst he is thinking of you. Filling in the gaps of the parts he hasn’t yet seen of you. How when you’d drifted off last night, he’d patted your hip and realised after feeling no ridge from where the elastic should have been that you had no panties on under your pyjama bottoms. The thought of your pillowy soft, warm, wet flesh so close to his fingers had made him grimace and groan last night when he couldn’t act upon it.

Now by himself, he gives into his basest wishes. Imagining licking, biting and stroking down your body, sucking on your nipples before lifting your hips to lower you onto his dick, sinking deeper and deeper inside you, feeling your warmth and wetness encase around him. Scraping his nails lightly across his balls, up the shaft and across the tip, he throws his head back as he thrusts harder into his fist. The first wave crashes over him pumping jet after jet of cum over his belly as his back arches up away from the soft mattress, his mouth crying out your name.

Dazed. Spent. Marcus lies there for a while, his hands and belly sticky from his release. Allowing the tiredness to wash back through him, his eyes close again- torturing his brain with images of you lying back with him. Being able to stroke your hair and press kisses into your sweetly almond scented skin. Hugging you tightly to him.

Never letting go.

Oh, you are utterly fucked, Pike.

✪✪✪✪✪

Lying upon your tummy, head resting on your arms, you rest upon your bed thinking over the events of the past two days. Burning yourself, burning others, coming back to France, panic attacks, confessions and oh, finding a piece of well faked art- nothing too taxing. The exhaustion is so exquisite as it courses through your veins. There is one thing you’ve tried to exclude from your list- the Voldemort of kindness- he who shall not be named.

Marcus Fucking Pike

When you’d seen his bank card, you’d noticed the F sitting between the M for Marcus and his surname of Pike. It had momentarily tickled you to think of what the F could stand for. You totally know that with his track record for openness, he’d have told you in a heartbeat but it was more fun to wonder. For now, it will stand for Fucking as from what he’d demonstrated of himself he can be really Fucking nice, a Fucking tease about your totally non-existent snoring and Fucking hot.

Stop it, Nush.

You’ve been there, seen that, done it and got the fucking t-shirt. You do not want to go down that road again.

Rolling yourself off the bed, landing with a little more grace than you had off the sofa previously, you set to grabbing everything- throwing it all into your rucksack haphazardly. You’d underpacked, not wanting to cart a wheelie suitcase with you, leaving you with fewer clothes than you actually needed for this trip. You don’t have a clean outfit for the office today. Shit. The dress, although pretty smart for work, wouldn’t be terribly comfy on the flight back and there are some small splatters decorating it from where your coffee shot out of your mouth from laughing hard. You’ll have to head home before travelling into the office today, meaning a later night to catch up with the work you’d not complete earlier. Cursing your inability to pack well and organise your life, you throw on your dress and hope that your cardigan covers the worst of the stains.

Dragging the Tangle Teezer through the motions of pretending to tame your mop before securing it in a high ponytail, you head towards the bathroom that is situated on the adjoining wall between Marcus’ and your bedroom. The old fashioned tap handle with its smooth enamel touches spins easily between your fingers with none of the guttering, spluttering and sudden gushes of cloudy water that yours does at home as you wet your toothbrush, ready to brush your morning breath away. Buzzing fills your bathroom as you set about starting your day, your eyes dancing around the room looking at the cool tiles, the elaborate cistern on the toilet- all very fitting of a Victorian era bathroom. Not your style in the slightest, but it suited the styling of the hotel well. You hated when buildings were stripped and gutted of their original features, fitted with cookie cutter IKEA furniture. Chairs should be a little creaky, floors uneven and tables a little rickety- no perfect lines. A bit like that gorgeous missing bit of beard from Marcus’ face- perfection in imperfection.

Stop it, woman.

Spitting the foamy bubbles into the porcelain of the sink, you turn on the tap to rinse it away. Spinning the handle to the off position, you grab the cleanser that Claire, your eldest brother’s wife, had convinced you to start using and to be honest, it certainly helped the hormonal breakouts when it was that time of the month.

Tearing the cotton pad packet open, you grab two of them, squeezing a blob between them, then squishing them together so that it makes a cleanser pad sandwich. It reminds you of those potions you used to make as a child out in the garden mixing any berries, leaves and soil, or in the bath where you used all your dad’s shaving foam and your mum’s stupidly expensive creams, oils and lotions, mixing wild concoctions that would stop your brothers from coming into your bedroom or your mum rolling her eyes at your grades.

Rubbing the cool ointment in soothing circles over your skin, a strange sound seems to come through the wall. From Marcus’ side. It’s muffled but did it sound like your name, or were you imagining it? Confusion creases your forehead- why wouldn’t he just call or text if he needed you, unless he’s hurt? Deciding that the only way to put your mind at rest is to ring and make sure that he’s ok, you scroll through the names on your phone until you hit Sir Agent Marcus Pike. Hitting facetime, you gaze around the room as you wait for him to pick up. A lopsided smile on a slightly flushed face arrives on your phone, “Hey! You ok?”

“Yeah, I was just ringing to check if you were- I thought I heard you say my name when I was in the bathroom,” you gently question, noticing Marcus’ face twitch awkwardly as his eyes widen, “I was just worried that you might be bleeding out in there. Can’t really have that happen twice or people will start to think it was me that did it!”

Covering his mouth, scratching his scruff with his fingers, Marcus tries to think quickly, “Urm, I was… just trying to um get packed up and I stubbed my toe. You probably heard a pained grunt- sorry,” Marcus shakes his head, flaming cheeks giving away his lie.

“Oh we’re a matching pair, now!” you giggle watching Marcus’ uncomfortable twitching and the way he keeps running his hand through his hair, not entirely convinced by his story but glad it isn’t anything more serious.

“Anyway,” you announce wanting to move the conversation along, “I’ve booked us a taxi to the airport- you’ve got about twenty minutes until it arrives.”

A genuine smile creeps across his face- his eyes creasing into half crescents, “Thanks Nush. Hadn’t actually considered how we’d get there. I promise I am capable of running this team.”

“No worries, Marcus. See you down in reception?” that delicious smile and a slight nod greets your question before a quick goodbye on both sides.

He bloody hadn’t stubbed his toe but what the fuck had he been doing? Eyes widening as a realisation crosses your mind.

He hadn’t, had he?

Giggling away to yourself at the very thought, you finish grabbing your things before flicking the switch on the kettle and opening those beautiful French doors so their gauzy curtains float like ribbons in the slight breeze. One more coffee on that glorious balcony before you head back to London. So that’s two major developments you have gained in regards to work- one faked picture and that Marcus Pike is a shit liar.

✪✪✪✪✪

The journey back to the UK had been pretty uneventful other than Marcus trying to take your bag from you whenever possible. A sweet gesture but entirely unnecessary when it is literally a rucksack with five light items inside and you are more than capable of carrying it unless he was secretly worried that you’d injure someone else by swinging around too quickly or something. In the end, it was just easier for him to hold it rather than bickering like an old married couple in the middle of Stansted airport.

“Just gimme it, Nush. You can concentrate on working out where on Earth I’ve parked my car- this is the info I’ve got from the email ticket,” Marcus pointedly says, passing you his phone screen.

“You don’t have to give me a lift. I have to go home first as I didn’t pack enough clothes to cover me for today too,” you own up, “You get yourself to work and I’ll meet you there in a couple of hours. I promise I’ll work late tonight to make up for it.”

Marcus shakes his head, “You hardly strike me as someone who does half a job. You’re in Blackheath too, aren’t you? To be honest, I could do with grabbing a few bits from home before going back into town, so it won’t be going out of my way.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take any more of your time than necessary- I know that I’m not the easiest person to be around and you’ve had to pretty much live with me for the past twenty-four hours,” you check noticing Marcus’ wince when you mention your difficult personality, “Ooof that bad huh?”

“You should stop talking about yourself in that way, Nush,” he gently soothes, lifting your chin with his thumb so that he can pick your eyes up from where they have fallen to the floor, “From what I’ve learnt about you in the past couple of days, you are an incredibly intelligent, occasionally clumsy but warm human. It has been a pleasure to have this opportunity to get to know you better and get to see the level of your skills so early on.”

Shifting uncomfortably in your coffee stained clothes, a smile crossing his face as he adds, “Can’t take a compliment can you? Ah well, that’ll have to be in your performance management plan- something for you to work on.”

“Ah hah! I’ve worked it out- your car is in the third bay, second row in Green Zone,” you triumphantly cackle.

“Lead the way, Nush. Let’s head home.”

✪✪✪✪✪

Roughly forty-five minutes later, you are kicking the base plate of your door to get the damp to release its powerful grip. Realistically, you had no need for a lock as the fluid retention of the wood would stop the most committed burglar in their tracks and unless you angled the kick just right, ah that’s it- home. You lean over the edge of the walkway to wave at Marcus, who is waiting below for a signal that you were in. He flashes his lights in acknowledgement of your gesture before smoothly reversing from where he has pulled in, watching his car disappearing from your estate, there is a tiny ache but you try to push it away as realistically, it is utterly ridiculous. You’re going to be seeing him in an hour for a lift into work.

After a scorching shower, a squirt of perfume and donning a pretty wrap dress with brightly coloured tights and your trusty cherry red Docs, you’re ready. Lying upon the sofa with your head upon a cushion, your knees bent and feet up on the arm rest, you flick through the various emails and messages that have slowly trickled in over the course of the morning. A sharp rap at the door, shakes you out of work mode.

“Hang on,” you yell through the door giving it the special shake and wiggle before muttering a prayer to the door gods to open first time, “Sorry, it’s the damn damp!”

A very smart, besuited, booted and bespectacled Marcus has a look of total alarm, “I’d say to get that checked but I’m guessing you already have?”

“Oh multiple times of pestering my landlord- apparently it’s on a list. Has been for at least three years,” you answer irritatedly, “Anyway, it’s my best security feature- no one can get in or out.”

“I didn’t realise you wore glasses. They look good on you,” you admire the black frames enjoying the flush being brought to Marcus’ cheeks before teasingly adding, “Ohhh, now who can’t take a compliment!”

“Get down your ass down those stairs, Ms Pierce, I’m pulling rank,” Marcus winks, lopsidedly grinning at you, “We have to at least pretend to do some work today.”

✪✪✪✪✪

Marcus opens the door to the office for you- ever grateful to his wonderful manners, you slide into the office first and inwardly groan at the pile of files that have seemingly made themselves at home on your desk.

“Oh there’s my girl!” Andy’s arms wrap themselves around your shoulders, encasing you in a bone crushing hug, “Missed your face yesterday but I’m guessing you’ve had no time to think of us poor souls slaving away here whilst you’ve been gallivanting across the French countryside? How was the hotel room? Enjoy the view?”

Feeling a little ambushed by your friend’s questioning, you blink hard to steady your thoughts of the glorious view you awoke to this morning, “Yeah, it was lovely!”

And warm. And soft. Snored quite sweetly too.

“I know what a mardy bum you can be if you don’t have something nice to look at when you wake up,” Andy adds with a gentle shrug. He then turns his attention to Marcus, who’s shifting uncomfortably behind you, “Welcome back, Sir. Good to have you back here.”

“Thanks Andy. Um, I’m going to get set up,” Marcus says as he steps out around from behind you, placing a hand on the small of your back. The warmth exists there for a moment before he’s already passed your desk and opened the glass door to his office.

“Coffee’s already waiting for you on your desk,” Marcus swings back to look utterly amazed at his PA, so Andy qualifies this, “I get reception to let me know when all of you arrive so that you can focus on the important things.”

“By the way, Nush and Marcus, before you get swallowed by case files,” Andy addresses you both as you lower yourself onto your chair, “we’re all heading to the Model Market on Friday to find some food and drink before drunkenly throwing some moves to my cousin who’ll be behind the decks. It’s only Wednesday and it already feels like a week!”

Dian sneaks over to your desk with a pastel de nata, “I heard these are your favourites so here’s something sweet to start off your day right.”

Your lip trembles and tears start to form as she passes you this sweet treat, “Thank you. They are my favourites. You are a truly lovely human, Dian.” You reach across the table and squeeze her hand.

“Oh I’m alright, I guess,” she winks one of her anthracite eyes at you, beaming widely, “I am just looking forward to finally spending some time with you in a context that doesn’t involve work. It’s so hard leaving a place that you’ve got your people who you vibe with and then you upend yourself to live somewhere new, where you’re totally on your own and have a job where you work odd hours!”

A sudden hit of guilt pumps through your veins, “I am so sorry, Dian, I hadn’t thought of that. I am so lucky to be from the same city that I now work in- I should have taken you to Borough. I will, and I promise I will show you all the little nooks you won’t have seen around there.”

“I was very jealous of Marcus stealing you away. Ridiculous when it was just for a day but I’d really like to get to know you. I feel like we could be friends,” Dian squeezes back, “Harper has family and friends here already, and I swear I overheard Kiri talking about a rugby team he has joined and meeting up with some mates from uni.”

“Yup- that’s probably true- plenty of Aussies and Kiwis in London but sadly not so many Canadians! Right, we’ll do this old school- come over to mine at seven on Friday, I’ll put some wine in the fridge and we can pretend we’re teenagers getting ready for a night on the town,” you quickly scrawl your address on a piece of paper, pushing it across the table towards Dian.

The smile on Dian’s face is the prettiest thing you've seen for a while. It seems to extend from her eyes to the very depths of her soul. Her reaching out to you makes you think of Marcus. Perhaps he could do with a friend here too- maybe another pizza and classic film night? Even though it had only been two nights, you feel a pang of disappointment at the thought of him not being there with you this evening. Ridiculous. Get a grip before you risk curling up on a sofa with him again.

As Dian returns to her desk, you are faced with the mountain of paperwork from yesterday’s adventure. Shutting your eyes to try and focus your brain, you try to figure out where to start- the report? Logging the video feed? Filing the pictures? Writing up the notes from the meeting?

“Already napping on the job?”

You open one eye to be met with Marcus’ amused face.

With a slight shake of your head, you dismiss his teasing inquiry, “Trying to figure out where to start. I’m not sure quite how we managed to achieve so much in a day but it allllll nowwwww neeeeeeds to be loggggggged, bleurgh!”

“Let’s start at the very beginning,” Marcus says with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“A very good place to start,” you sing along, channeling your best Julie Andrews, highly amused by Marcus’ reference, “Actually- as my brain’s not quite in work mode yet, I should ask you before I forget. I was thinking- do you fancy making the pizzas and classic film night a thing? While London is always full of people, it’s easy to feel quite lonely until you find your group of friends.”

A genuine smile slowly crawls across Marcus’ face as he drinks in your offer, “I mean, it's just a thought. Of course you don’t have to and I’m not sure that my old sofa is anywhere near as comfy as the one in Lyon…”

“I’d love to,” Marcus grins at the fluster in your voice, was he happy to spend more time with you? “Let’s get something in place…”

“Nush- sorry to interrupt, Marcus- I have a highly animated woman called Élodie on the phone asking for you. Can I put her through?” Andy asks, “Seems like she has the lab results back for the possible Soutine.”

Lifting the receiver for your phone whilst whispering to Marcus that you’d catch him later, you lean into the backrest and spin yourself comfortingly from side to side, « Coucou chérie, ça va? Vérifie si mon numéro de téléphone fonctionne? » Hi my love! How are you? Already checking if my telephone number works?

«Coucou mon chouchou! Bien sûr- tu ne peux pas me quitter encore! Il a été complètement falsifié. Sur la toile, sous la peinture, se trouve une autre image qui me rappelle quelque chose qui a été peint par un ado troublé! » Hey my love! Of course- you can’t leave me again! It was completely faked. On the canvas under the paint, another image was found that reminds me of something a troubled teenager would paint! The words tumbling hurriedly from Élodie’s mouth into her phone.

You giggle remembering the angst-ridden art and poetry you’d created as a mopey teenager and are filled with amusement that someone might improve them by putting faked masterpieces on top.

« D’accord! Donc la radiologie l’a prouvé - mais qu’en est il des échantillons de peinture? Une joie avec ceux-ci? » Ok! So the X-ray proved it but what about the paint samples? Any joy there? Now spinning on your chair as far the cord would allow you, your mind wonders how on Earth it could ever have ever been thought to be real.

« Tous les échantillons montrent des peintures modernes telles que la phtalocyanine bleue et verte. Les résultats de la datation au carbone sont attendus plus tard dans la soirée, mais j'avais hâte de t’appeler! Je t’enverrai les résultats par e-mail dès qu'ils apparaissent» All of the samples show modern paints such as phthalocyanine blue and green. The carbon dating results are due later this evening but I couldn't wait to ring you. I’ll email you the results as soon as they appear. Élodie continues, « Comment s'est passé votre dernière nuit et le voyage de retour avec votre magnifique patron? » How did the last night and journey home go with that lovely boss of yours?

« Je raccroche le téléphone maintenant, femme ridicule, » I am hanging up the phone now, you ridiculous woman. You reproach your friend playfully.

Hanging up, after sending hugs and kisses to Jacques too, you see that your computer has now decided that no more updates need to be made. Perhaps it’s time to get started on that report…

When you read you begin with ay bee cee…

✪✪✪✪✪

The flurry of activity continues to hover around your desk and slowly your colleagues peter out in search of lives lived outside of the office space. In fact, you don’t notice the ageing of the day until Marcus goes to leave the office, “Hey, are you planning to sleep here tonight?”

“Had more sleep last night than I usually do so I am riding this high until I drop,” you snort without removing your eyes from your screen as you furiously type away, “You off home?”

“Gym first- gotta burn off the pancakes I’m going to have for breakfast tomorrow,” Marcus says as he fiddles with the strap on his laptop bag.

“That’s not the way that food intake and exercise should work. Food is for nourishing your body and exercise is for making it strong. Don’t get sucked in by that bullshit, Marcus,” you wag your finger at your boss, still hammering the keyboard with your other hand, “You have nothing to worry about, the way you look.”

You finally look up to see Marcus shyly smile, rocking from heel to toe in his highly polished brogues, his eyes on the toe of his shoes. Drawing a deep breath, he looks back up at you, nodding towards the report on your screen, “D’ya think you’ll be able to present that to the team tomorrow?”

“Yeah, just had the results from the carbon dating come through so I should be ready to speak to everyone tomorrow morning at the briefing, if that works for you?” You answer just as tiredness starts to take a grip on your body.

“Perfect. Can I offer you a lift home or are you staying a bit longer?”

“Staying,” you confirm, glueing your eyes back to the screen.

“Well, goodnight Nush,” Marcus wishes you warmly, as he makes to walk away from your desk.

“G’night Marcus. Try to sleep in a bed tonight.”

A throaty chuckle fills the cool office air before disappearing as the door shuts behind him. Bathed in the blue light of your screen, you try to jog your memory of which point you were about to make in your report but sit there utterly stumped due to the distraction.

Marcus Fucking Pike.

✪✪✪✪✪

“So what’s the big deal about this colour exactly?” Harper cuts directly to the chase, “Explain it like I’m five because as you are well aware, this is not my area of expertise.”

You always wonder how far back people need to know of a colour’s history to explain it well enough. Do you take it back to cave paintings or perhaps start in the Renaissance? Perhaps somewhere between the two?

“There was a blue that was known as the colour of the heavens. It’s called ultramarine and is created by crushing lapis lazuli. Now, lapis is only found in one country- Afghanistan, but it’s been used since antiquity to create this beautifully, insanely intense blue. The blue that you see in Tutankhamen’s mask, that’s lapis. Having been used by the Ancient Egyptian and Babylonian empires, lapis then fell out of favour as the Romans associated it with the woad used by Barbarian hordes.”

Tapping his pen on the table, Kiritopa nods in agreement,”Like Braveheart?”

“That’s a wee bit later in European history but a similar idea. Think more Boudicca- the Iceni tribes uprising against the marauding Romans,” Dian points out kindly before nodding encouragingly at you to continue.

“The use of ultramarine then slowly diffused through Europe thanks to the Crusades in the 13th and 14th century but even then, it was still an incredibly precious commodity and solely available to the richest of the rich. That’s why you only ever see it in pictures of the Virgin Mary, emperors, popes and other dignitaries. When a patron requested Ultramarine to be used, the contract would have to be super tight specifying exactly where it would be used and how much.”

“So over the years, scientists have attempted to replicate this paint to create a substance that’s more commercially available but when we try to make paints, we’re dealing with chemistry. When manufacturing paint, you’ve got to make sure that it’s a stable, preferably non-toxic product because well, we all know what happened to the Radium Girls.”

“It took until the first half of the twentieth century for the scientific community to create CuPc. I think it was 1927 when they first created a reaction between copper, cyanide and 0-dibromobenzene, finding that one of the byproducts was an intensely blue powder. This blue powder ended up being first manufactured in 1935 but it still wasn’t readily available until the sixties because Yves Klein tried in the fifties to create the blue used by Giotto and still didn’t manage to produce anything nearly as stable or non-toxic.”

“How does this all link up to this forgery in France?” Harper questions bluntly, clearly desperate for you to get to the point.

Blinking hard, you take a moment to steady yourself as Marcus’ eyes flit between you and the Australian agent.

“Kind of wishing that I’d asked you to explain it like I’m twenty five, might have reached the point by Christmas,” she mutters under her breath.

“Stop packing a sad, Harper. Nush has heaps of skills in this area,” Kiritopa shoots a glare in the Australian’s direction, “Keep going Nush.”

You go to open your mouth but Harper just can’t help herself, “There’s a skill in being succinct.”

“There’s also a skill in not being rude but you’re not managing that are you?” The look on Kiritopa’s face announcing that he is pretty much ready to kill.

“Whoa - guys…” Marcus chooses now to join in?

“Look,” you acquiesce- your heart racing in your throat, raising your hands to try and calm the situation, “Harper’s right, I’m blathering. I should have gotten to the point far sooner. The crux of the situation is that the paint found on the canvas in Grenoble dates from the sixties whereas the artist died in the forties.”

“All of the evidence points to it being a fake- carbon dating, x-rays- the lot. This was an easy find but I think we should be prepared for harder to spot ones,” after throwing paper copies of the lab results in the centre of the table for everyone to grab, you sit back in your chair. Your posture screams for everyone to leave you alone, burying your face in the agenda. Multiple sets of eyes look upon you but you refuse to meet them, feeling furiously obstinate and wholly uncommunicative in the moment.

As the meeting grinds to a close, you finally lift your eyes to find that Marcus’ regard has barely left you- only looking away when you catch him. Urgh, he’s going to be nice about this too. But it isn’t Marcus, who reaches out to you. It’s Kiritopa. Kiritopa, who wordlessly reaches his bear-like arm across the table and squeezes your hand before getting up and leaving the room. The gesture fills you with a grateful warmth and you decide to scarper from the meeting room before Marcus says something and makes you cry.

Time to put on my big girl knickers and get back to work.

✪✪✪✪✪

Friday passes in a blur of calls about a new possible forgery meaning that you can only pull silly faces at Dian from across the room. Kiritopa seems hugely excited by the prospect of a night out, chattering about how he’s invited some of the guys from his rugby team to meet up with him there later. Harper is her usual distant self, head down, beavering away- not really paying much attention to anyone or anything around her.

Where’s Marcus?

You throw a scrunched ball of paper at the PA’s head to get his attention, but entirely miss him, “Andy is Marcus not coming in today?”

Picking up the paper and without even looking up, he throws it back, hitting you square in the forehead, “Car trouble. Any issues, message him.”

Eventually, you hear his confident gait walk into the room. Looking up, you send him a smile which soon fades when you see what a mess he’s in. Hair sticking up all over the place from a stressed hand constantly running through it, a slight gleam of sweat across his skin and an oily mark on one cheek, shirt untucked, jacket draped over one arm, tie askance and lowered due to the top two buttons of his shirt being undone. All of him, in fact, looks undone and defeated.

Without thinking, you jump up from your seat, walk over to him and hug him tightly. With this action the other agents look up and see the state their boss is in. Marcus, whilst initially surprised by your gesture, leans into the hug and lowly whispers, “Thanks. I needed that,” before giving you a tight squeeze, releasing you and slowly trudging towards his office.

“Shit start to a Friday, Sir,” Kiritopa offers, “I’ll get the first round in tonight- you look like you could do with a beer.”

“Fuck, yes, I need a beer but as your boss, that’s my job,” Marcus forcefully asserts, “You can get the second round in.”

You make to slink off back to your desk but Marcus catches your hand, rubbing the skin lightly with his thumb, “You ok?”

“Yeah- just wanted to check on you. You look a fucking state,” you declare through an amused grin.

Marcus chuckles at your observation. “Not the best start to a day,” he grimaces, “I miss anything major this morning?”

“Not apart from the boss arriving at midday looking like he pushed his car all the way here,” you gently tease, “You know we have something called public transport in London- you should try it some time!”

“Yeah, I’ll have Andy look into that for me,” Marcus nods in mock-contemplation, “Hey, um, are you coming out tonight? With everyone, I mean?”

“Uh huh,” you concede reluctantly, “I’m not really a fan of nights out with colleagues but I think we could all do with a glass of something and some good street food in our tummies. What time are you getting there?”

Marcus scrunches up his nose, “Around seven but you know this job- it might be then or some time in September!”

Giving you a wink as he buttons up his collar and straightens his tie, Marcus turns towards his office and you head back to your desk- both with a renewed wish to get finished up and out of the office tonight.

Taglist: @astroboots @silverwolf319 @yespolkadotkitty @agirllovespancakes @danniburgh @lunaserenade @leonieb @tardisfangurl @mouthymandalorian @disgruntledspacedad @zukoyonce @pedropascalito @absurdthirst @mrsparknuts @sirowsky @bison-writes @the-ginger-hedge-witch @green-socks @lv7867

[some-days-we-get-sundays]

A night of endless possibilities- PART 2

Here is PART 1

“Well if you like the sound of my name so much, I can make you scream it all night.” Ryan said coolly. She gave Sophie a seductive smirk but wiggled her eyebrows to show she was mostly joking. Sophie feigned shock as they entered Ryan’s room. “Wow! I thought we were just gonna cuddle!” Sophie teased and put her hand to her chest in mock offense. “Baby, the night is full of endless possibilities.” Ryan said as she closed the door behind them...

PART 2:

As soon as the door was closed, Ryan backed Sophie into it and put her lips against Sophie’s neck. Ryan discovered that while she was very short, she was the perfect height for giving Sophie wet opened mouthed kisses on her neck and on her chest and down into her cleavage. Ryan kissed her way down Sophie’s body and then back up again. Sucking Sophie’s neck with a few popping noises, kissing Sophie’s ear lobe, kissing the tops of Sophie’s breasts. Sophie bit the side of her finger to stop from loudly moaning. Ryan noticed this and in between kisses she panted, “get loud if you want to baby.” Ryan lifted up Sophie’s shirt slightly so that when she made her way down Sophie’s body this time, she could kiss the soft, warm skin on Sophie’s stomach. Sophie put her hand behind Ryan’s head to keep her in place against her body. Ryan started to undo Sophie’s pants and then Sophie’s eyes flew open.

“Wait, wait, babe wait.” Sophie’s raspy breathless voice came out. Ryan stopped and stood up. She was only standing inches from Sophie and she reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Sophie’s ear. Sophie was already flushed and she was sure this display of affection from Ryan made her face even pinker. Ryan on the other hand was trying not to internally combust from hearing Sophie call her babe. They both seemed to already be comfortable with terms of endearment.

“You ok?” Ryan stepped back and her eyes were filled with so much care and concern that Sophie’s heart skipped several beats. She’d never seen Ryan look at her quite like that before.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m good. I just thought we were gonna you know, cuddle.” Sophie made a display of gesturing to Ryan’s messy bed. Sophie didn’t want Ryan thinking that she didn’t want this but it was all happening so fast. They both just called each other babe and baby. Granted it was kind of in the heat of the moment but still. Ryan seemed to understand that Sophie didn’t want to go any further than just kissing and cuddling tonight. She stepped back from Sophie and then she started rummaging through her drawers. She pulled out an oversized shirt with a basketball and Bugs Bunny on it.

“Here. Change into this. I also have shorts if you need them but I figure the long shirt will be fine. There are towels and washcloths in the bathroom if you want to shower and you can use some of mine or Mary’s body wash. There’s a shower cap you can use too. And we have some extra toothbrushes in the cupboard in there.” Ryan sat on her bed after telling Sophie all of this and handing her the t shirt. Sophie didn’t move or say anything, she just stared at Ryan.

“What?” Ryan asked. She wondered if there was something she forgot. She went through an invisible checklist in her head. Sophie slowly walked towards Ryan and kissed her below her ear. “You’re sweet, that’s all.” Sophie then left to go get ready for bed. Ryan smiled at Sophie’s retreating form. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Some time passed and when Sophie got to the room she looked like a weight had been lifted off her. Nothing like a hot shower, and some clean clothes. When she got closer to the bed she noticed a small pair of boxer briefs sitting out and then she noticed Ryan trying to look casual and failing.

“Are these for me?” Sophie picked up the boxer briefs. Ryan looked a bit nervous. It was cute.

“Um yeah. I know some women sleep with no bottoms on, but I figure we’re not quite there yet. I thought it would be weird for you to wear my thongs-” Sophie blushed at that. “So I grabbed a pair of these. They’re clean of course. These are basically like spandex booty shorts.” Ryan added at the end. Sophie let out a raspy laugh. “I love them, thank you.” They both grinned at each other with nervous yet electric energy.

“Ok well you get settled in here, I’m gonna grab a shower and I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.” Ryan left the room and closed the door behind her.

While Ryan was gone, Sophie changed into the boxer briefs. She looked in Ryan’s mirror and messed with her hair a bit. She looked closer and noticed purplish-red little marks all over her upper body. They were mostly on her neck. Hickeys from Ryan. Sophie smiled to herself. She looked around Ryan’s room trying not to let her eyes linger on anything for too long, she didn’t want to seem like she was snooping. Her eyes landed on some coco butter lotion. Yes she thought, perks of dating a black girl. She has all the products I need. Sophie lathered on some of Ryan’s coco butter lotion. Wait she thought, dating? We’re not dating. Are we?

The door opened and Ryan appeared again. She was just in her towel as all her clothes were still in the drawers in her room. Ryan rummaged again and pulled out more items for herself. Sophie averted her eyes when Ryan dropped her towel. Ryan noticed and smirked over her shoulder at Sophie.

“You can watch if you want.” Ryan said innocently. 

Sophie’s core started to throb. She wanted Ryan so badly. She turned her eyes back on Ryan and neither of them could break eye contact. Ryan stood still, taking forever to get her shirt on. Sophie eyed Ryan’s full breasts and her dark erect nipples before she finally pulled on an old worn out and tattered Batman shirt. The shirt was short and Sophie’s eyes slowly went down past the shirt and stopped on the small patch of little black curls that barely covered Ryan’s pussy. She let her eyes travel to Ryan’s toned legs. Then Ryan turned around and her beautiful brown ass was just waiting for Sophie to go over and smack it. Sophie bit down on her lip. Ryan pulled on a pair of boxer briefs similar to Sophie’s. Then she looked at herself in the mirror, played with her hair and then grabbed some lotion. Sophie let out an audible breath and Ryan pretended not to hear it but Ryan’s signature grin in her mirror told Sophie she definitely heard it. Ryan then grabbed a spray can of deodorant, used some and handed it to Sophie. Lastly, she grabbed a small tub of Vaseline and put some on her lips and handed the jar to Sophie. Sophie used some on her own lips and handed it back. 

“I like you.” Sophie suddenly said after rubbing her lips together to smooth out the lip balm. 

“Well I would hope so after all this.” Ryan smirked. She flipped off the lights and then turned on a little lamp next to her bed, giving the room a soft glow. She grabbed a lighter off her dresser and lit some incense. Then she sprayed the room with with a couple spurts of what appeared to be a lavender aromatherapy spray. Ryan then got in bed on top of her covers next to Sophie. They stayed a few inches apart but it still felt intimate, close, right.

“You know what I mean. It’s just, I don’t want to rush into anything. We’re already calling each other pet names.” Sophie chuckled nervously.

“Well you want me to go back to calling you Crowphie?” Ryan raised an eyebrow at Sophie playfully.

“Well as flattering as that was …” Sophie played along. “I know you were just using that as a cover up because you really liked me but you hated that I worked for the Crows. So using a flirty nickname was your way of expressing your pent up emotions about me.”

“Ok Ms. Psychoanalyst. You liked me first though.” Ryan said.

Sophie gasped and put her hand on her chest. “Excuse me. You definitely were crushing on me first.”

“How do you figure that!” Ryan had changed her position on the bed and now her head was lying on top of Sophie’s stomach while Sophie was curled up and had her head on a pillow. Sophie reached down and tenderly ran her hands through Ryan’s hair giving her a head massage as she spoke.

“Mary told me.” Sophie said.

“I’m gonna kill that girl. I told her you were cute and then she told me I should ask you out and then I said that’s not happening because you were a Crow.”

“Hum I wonder why Mary told me that you said, man if that girl didn’t work for the Crows I would be all up on that.” Ryan laughed and buried her head into Sophie’s stomach.

“That doesn’t sound like me.” Ryan joked.

“Mmmhum.” Was all Sophie said.

“You were always fine as hell Soph, you know that. I mean absolutely stunningly breathtaking. But when you held my hand and sat with me at Coryana when I was dying is when I started to feel differently about you. Up until then I thought you were just some Crow without a conscience. But every time we would hang out and go on missions I would see that you were so much more than that. Then what really did it from me was when we were at The Hold Up and you told me how you kept my Batwoman identity a secret from the other Crows. I wanted to take you up to my room that night.” Ryan laughed to herself. “But alas, you were still Crowphie.” Sophie was still playing in Ryan’s hair and Ryan felt Sophie press her fingers against her head and lightly push her forward, giving her head a playful shove. Ryan laughed. 

“The time you ruined my undercover driving mission.” Sophie said. 

“Huh?” Ryan was confused. “That’s when you liked me! When I fucked up your undercover mission?” 

“No. I already liked you. But when I saw what you could do, the skills you had; The way you smiled at me when you begged me to let you be the new driver. My sister called you fire. And lord knows I hate it when she’s right. Then I found out you were Batwoman. I felt like I had to know more about you. How could it be that you were always getting into trouble but at the same time you were protecting the entire city of Gotham. It didn’t add up. But the more time I spent with you, the more you made me see that A) you were always covering for Angelique, and B) The Crows really was a piece of shit organization. And then I just wanted to show you that I was different. I wanted to impress you and I wanted to be around you and get you to like me, but I knew I couldn't force you to do that. And it seemed every time I got close you pushed me away.”

“I was scared Sophie. I could feel the feelings that I had for you, but - I didn’t want to throw away my beliefs and change my morals.” They were now both facing each other and lying on their stomachs, propping themselves up on their elbows.  

“I’m glad you didn’t change your beliefs, or your morals. And I’m glad you made me realize what my own are.” Sophie said thoughtfully, reflecting. Sophie and Ryan caught each other’s eyes, Ryan was the one to lean in first. She kissed Sophie’s lips and Sophie kissed her back eagerly. When she pulled away, the lamp light was reflecting in Sophie’s irises and it made it look like flames were dancing in her pupils. And I’m the one who’s fire. Ryan thought. Ryan in that moment sent up a silent prayer that she would have the strength not to just take Sophie right then and there. 

“I’m getting kind of tired.” Sophie said through a yawn. Ryan got up and grabbed two head scarfs from her drawer, she tossed one to Sophie who was taking off her wig to reveal tight cornrows. Ryan didn’t think she had ever seen someone more beautiful than Sophie freakin’ Moore.  

“Stop staring.” Sophie rasped out. If Ryan was gonna keep looking at her like that, it was going to be a long night for Sophie. Ryan turned off the lamp and crawled under the covers. Sophie got ready to be the big spoon but Ryan rolled over and snaked her arms around Sophie’s midsection and curled up into Sophie’s back. She scooted up on the bed so that her head was buried in Sophie’s neck. She inhaled the scent of her own body wash that Sophie had used. 

“Night Soph.” Ryan said, leaving no room to argue about who was going to be the big or little spoon. Sophie relaxed into Ryan’s arms. She realized that she was looking forward to all these inevitable relationship talks that her and Ryan were bound to have. She also realized that she hadn’t felt this peaceful in a long time. She heard Ryan’s even breathing and noted that she’d already drifted off.

“Night Ryan.” Sophie said softly. She snuggled into Ryan, closed her own eyes, and waited for sleep to set in. 

[turtle-steverogers]

Mikey!! Have any ~spicy headcanons~ to share??

ok so i didnt really have any headcanons that i could think of so i wrote a fic instead

i really hope you meant spicy like the wink wonk spicy or else this is going to be really awkward but... take some pre-war boys in love!

ship: Stucky

content: NSFW 18+!!

-

Into Your Arms

A gentle hand on Steve’s chest wakes him with a start. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but it had been a long morning filled with restocking shelves at the local grocer for Mr. Martinelli and it must have worn Steve out more than he realized. Looking back, though, it makes sense. He’s still trying to kick that recent cold that had knocked him on his backside for upwards of a week and his body must have tired out quicker than usual. Which is saying something seeing as he’s always fatigued.

The hand smooths down over his heart and Steve melts, Bucky’s familiar scent washing over him. Sweat, cinnamon, and the slightly salty-sour smell of the docks. Only Bucky can make it work. Only Bucky can make Steve absolutely ravenous, stinking with sweat or freshly bathed.

“Shh, s’just me,” Bucky murmurs and Steve rolls over, blinking tiredly up at him. Bucky softens, but there’s a certain darkness to his eyes. Stress and something else. Something that makes Steve’s cock stir in his boxer shorts.

Steve smiles blearily and rakes his eyes unabashedly over Bucky’s frame. He’s stripped down to his own boxer shorts and tank top, his hair sweaty and curling over his forehead. Steve reaches up to tug at a lock before brushing it out of his eyes.

“Long day?” he asks, shifting backwards as Bucky takes the motion as an invitation to climb onto the bed and over Steve’s body. Steve settles back against his measly pillow, spreading his legs and letting Bucky shift between them. They’re both hard now.

“Very,” Bucky says, leaning down to kiss Steve’s jaw, trailing back to his ear and nipping at his earlobe. “Was wondering if my fella might help me unwind.”

Steve smiles and lets his fingers sink into the short strands at the nape of Bucky’s neck, tilting his head away to allow Bucky access to that sensitive spot just below his jaw.

“He might be up for it,” Steve mutters, eyes fluttering shut as Bucky takes the hint and starts pressing feather light kisses down his neck.

He’s shirtless and Bucky trails his hands down his sides, making him whimper and squirm. He latches onto one of Steve’s nipples and Steve’s back arches, mouth falling open in a soundless gasp.

“Glad to hear it,” Bucky says, voice low and rough. It drives Steve insane every time he hears that particular cadence to Bucky’s tone-- pure and raw. “Been thinking about you all damn day… such pretty noises you make, sweetheart.” Steve whines softly as Bucky’s hand trails down over his belly and onto his cock, cupping him through his boxers. “Just like that.”

“God, Buck…” Steve breathes, eyes rolling back as he rolls his hips into Bucky’s grip. “You make me fucking crazy.”

“Mmm,” Bucky hums, working Steve with his hand until he’s sure he’s going to come in his fucking shorts before they can even do anything. Bucky must sense this, because he pulls away, stripping off his tank top before reaching down to run his fingers under Steve’s waistband, waiting for permission.

“Yes,” Steve agrees and lifts his hips to let Bucky pull down his boxers, spreading his legs as soon as they’re gone.

Bucky moans, pausing to stare. Steve blushes, suddenly shy as he often gets when he’s so spread out, his cock curving up towards his stomach, hard and leaking at the tip. He holds his ground, though, staring straight back and reaching out to tug at Bucky’s boxers.

“Please,” he whispers, and Bucky chuckles, leaning down to kiss Steve as he works off his shorts.

“I gotcha, sweetheart,” Bucky says, letting Steve finish undressing him as he reaches up to cup his jaw.

They lay together, bodies melding together and falling into a familiar rhythm as they kiss. Bucky’s tongue slips into Steve’s mouth and he moans quietly, heart slamming in his chest-- as thrilled as the first time they did this together. It’s been three years now that they’ve been dancing this dance and Steve still feels that novel excitement. The knowledge that they beat the odds and chose to love despite the world telling them otherwise stoking the fire in his soul and making it burn brighter.

Bucky’s hand has found his cock again and moves down to roll his balls in his palm. Steve gasps, breaking their kiss and pressing his face into Bucky’s shoulder, hiding his moans in the skin there. There’s a moment where Bucky pauses his ministrations to press a soft kiss to Steve’s hair-- a promise-- and Steve wants to crawl under his damn skin and live there.

Then Bucky’s fingers tease his hole and Steve can’t stand it anymore.

“Buck,” he groans. “Get the-- it’s under--”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees and pulls away just long enough to lean over the side of the bed and dig into the shoebox they keep underneath for the vaseline. The familiar sound of the lid being screwed off has Steve’s cock twitching again on instinct, his hole clenching around nothing like it knows what’s coming.

Steve watches with rapt attention as Bucky warms some petroleum jelly between his fingers. Bucky looks at him and smiles-- lopsided and sweet and every bit of softness that Steve can never quite seem to get right when he sketches him. He reaches up to trace a finger down his strong jaw and Bucky leans into the touch, smiling wider.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he asks.

Steve smiles back. “Yeah,” he says and spreads his legs wider. Bucky looks down and his eyes get impossibly darker.

“Yes, you are,” he moans and reaches down to circle his pointer finger around Steve’s rim before pressing in.

The sensation never fails to shock Steve a little and his eyes widen as Bucky slowly breaches that tight ring of muscles. He’s watching Steve, as he always does, for signs of discomfort as he begins to work Steve open, purposefully avoiding that little bundle of nerves inside him. Steve is shaking by the time Bucky’s worked another finger in, clinging to his shoulders and biting his lip to stay quiet.

By the time he’s sufficiently open, there are tears leaking down the sides of his face. Bucky kisses them away as he pulls his fingers out, swallowing Steve’s whine in a kiss.

“Just gotta get myself ready, then I’ll take care of you,” Bucky promises, their lips barely parting.

“Please,” Steve manages and Bucky huffs out a breathy laugh, pushing himself up and reaching down to gather more petroleum jelly.

The sound of Bucky working the jelly over his cock is obscene and Steve bucks his hips up into nothing, desperate and wanting.

“Be patient, darling,” Bucky chastises with no real heat. He holds Steve’s hips down and lines up his cock with his hole. Steve stills, holding his breath as he waits.

And then-- God-- and then Bucky’s pushing in and Steve’s lips part as his head spins. They slot like the last two pieces of a puzzle, moving together in tandem to fit seamlessly. Bucky adjusts his weight as Steve automatically wraps his legs around his waist, drawing them closer and urging Bucky the rest of the way in.

“Fuck,” Bucky grunts, forehead resting against Steve’s as they breathe together, adjust to the fullness; the tightness.

“I know,” Steve says.

Bucky starts to move, his strong hips thrusting forward as he fucks into Steve, slow so that the bed doesn’t creak too much. It’s frustrating as hell, but Steve almost enjoys the torture of being taken apart so carefully. Their breaths mingle together and Steve lifts his head to nip at Bucky’s bottom lip.

Bucky complies, kissing him soundly, his hips barely faltering as it grows more heated. Steve loses time, he thinks-- Bucky brings him out of his head in the best way possible. Nothing exists in the moment except for their bodies, the sounds of the city muted as they meld together, joined at their very core. Art, made between them, and Steve wants to smudge the rest of the world out with paint.

Steve comes first, back arching as he soundlessly releases onto his stomach, his hole clenching around Bucky’s cock and sending him over the edge a moment later. His release fills Steve up and they come down to the sensation of his come seeping back out of his hole. Steve shudders, and keeps his legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist, wishing he could keep him buried inside him forever. Keep him to himself, because he’s a selfish man. He knows that. He wants this forbidden love and he wants it all to himself.

But then Bucky’s pulling out and Steve is brought incrementally back down to earth. He hides his disappointment in another kiss, but Bucky can read him like a goddamn book, because he rolls them over and hoists Steve up, carrying him to the other bed and laying them both down. It settles something in Steve, because the only thing better than being fucked by Bucky is being held by him. Safe in his arms. Secure in the knowledge that Bucky’s love spans beyond their bodies.

Bucky carefully cleans the release off Steve’s stomach and thighs with the corner of his blanket and Steve’s chest flutters with gratitude. He doesn’t like to stay sticky and Bucky knows that.

He curls closer to Bucky, sated and content. Bucky kisses his forehead, hand splaying between his shoulder blades. His thumb brushes over Steve’s spine and he shivers, resting his good ear over Bucky’s heart and letting his arms tuck close to his chest between them.

“I love you,” Bucky says, and Steve can hear his heart beat faster. He smiles.

“I love you, too.”

Outside, the sounds of the city start to filter back into Steve’s awareness, no longer in that suspended haven that sex provides. But that’s okay, because Bucky’s love is a haven that never fades away.

-

Thanks for reading!

[princess-of-inarizaki]

Maybe we could be more than just friends?

🦋 Blaine Anderson x fem! reader ,, triggers: mentions of doubting one's sexuality.

hello loves! I've not been well these past few days, stress has been getting to me. So I've temporarily put all projects on hold in order to prevent myself from overworking. I'm writing this now because it's something *I* want to write. Will be putting up a Masterlist for non-haikyuu characters soon. Love y'all 💞

Blaine was everything to you. You didn't know how it happened, or why, but every fibre of your body seemed drawn to him. You loved him. You were inexplicably, undeniably in love, with your gay best friend, Blaine Devon Anderson.

He was the sun in your life, lighting it with radiance and meaning. He was the ocean you often found yourself getting lost in. But mostly, he was Blaine. Just plain ol' Blaine. The dork who lived for Katy Perry top hits, and bow-ties.

“I'm not feeling well” he whispered softly, in a husky voice. Your heart tugged as you gently adjusted his bow tie and smoothed the creases in his cardigan. His preppy sense of style was one of the cutest things about him, but today, he looked like he got dressed with his eyes closed.

His hazel eyes were hooded, and he looked one coffee away from passing out.

“Is it a cold?”

He nodded groggily and slammed his locker shut. “Yeah, I just, need to sleep it off, I guess.”

You followed him down the hallways and found your heart beating faster with each step. Sometime this week, I am going to tell him how I feel.

How you love him so much, you feel like you can barely breathe sometimes.

You blinked out of your thoughts and gently kissed his cheek. “You'll be okay, Anderson. I'll make sure of it”

That night, in Blaine's room, the music from his stereo enveloped the both of you, as the hammering in your heart became unable to ignore.

After making him a warm bowl of soup, he quietly watched you, as you practiced strumming your guitar to the music.

“Have you ever been with a girl, Blaine?”

He smiled fondly at you. “Never. I guess I've always known I was... I was gay, you know?”

Disappointment was evident on your face. You smiled as tears threatened to fall.

“But I think girls are wonderful. They're kind, and sensitive, and they have beautiful bodies and gorgeous smiles”

You bit your lip “You don't have to say that.”

He smiled lopsidedly as he rubbed the small cough syrup bottle you had brought for him earlier, and placed it on his bedside.

“Girls are wonderful, y/n. But you? You're the most important girl in my life. So funny and sweet, I don't think I've ever felt closer to someone.”

Don't. You don't know how much I've longed for you to say this.

His eyes started drooping as the cough syrup seemed to have started taking full effect.

“You're so perfect. Why do you make me so confused?” was all he trailed off before succumbing to sleep.

The guitar seemed to weigh more in your hands as you gently placed it away and pulled a tub of vaseline from your bag.

That hopeless angel. You gently unbuttoned his plaid shirt and unraveled his bow-tie. He had a serious addiction to those. Whilst spreading the vaseline on his muscled chest, you blinked away tears.

Now that he was asleep, they finally came out. Your silent sobs were the only noise in the room as your hands were on Blaine's chest, soothing his laboured breathing.

I love you.

Just once, I want to know what it feels like, to be in your arms. What Kurt might've taken for granted, Blaine I don't even care if you'll never have sex with me, I just love you, so much. Being with you is enough.

You placed your head on his heart and laid there, silently wishing he'd get better soon. Silently wishing he'd love you back, soon.

🦋

Before leaving, you pressed a kiss to his temple and ruffled his hair. The gel had worn off and his natural curls were untamed, and oh so adorable.

Running your fingers through them, he pulled your hand to his chest. “No, not the hair.”

You chuckled at his sleep-talking. Even in slumber, he was so self conscious about his hair. He also made it so hard for you to leave.

“Alright Borat, goodnight. I love you.”

“Mhmm...”

In school the next day, Blaine Anderson looked as bright as a penny. “Hey y/n, thank you so much for taking care of me last night. I feel amazing now.”

But you could barely even listen. It was horrible, falling in love with him like this, and feeling terrible because you knew he could never see you in the exact same way. It kept you up all night.

“Y/n did I say something wrong?”

“Blaine...”

his hazel eyes, those gorgeous irises settled on you.

“I love you. I know it's crazy, you're gay, and you'd never think of me in the way I want you to, but my heart breaks a little every single day because I want you so bad. Us being friends? It's the best thing that has happened to me, but I need to know, is there even a small chance you'd think the same of me?”

He looked stunned, and gently reached out for your hand.

“Y/n”

“Blaine say something or I swear I m-might cry.”

“Oh y/n.” his grip on you felt so comforting, as his strong arms wrapped themselves around your figure, pulling you close to his chest. He smelled like mint and vanilla, scents you never knew you craved until you hugged him like that.

“I'm so confused these days too” he whispered softly. You were in the hallway, but the world seemed to melt away as the only thing you could focus on was his soft voice.

“I'm confused because I'm starting to fall in love with you too. You make me rethink everything about myself and you do it with the sweetest smile, and most beautiful eyes.”

You choked back a sob as you listened on.

“This world doesn't deserve you, and I less so, but I want to try. I don't understand how someone as wonderful as you even liked me in the first place, but y/n I will not break your heart.”

He finally pulled away and wiped the stray tears from off of your face.

“Aw babe, you're supposed to feel honoured. After all, you kinda made me, the gold star gay, doubt my own sexuality”

You chuckled and kissed his lips. A proper kiss. Not a stolen one, or one exchanged between friends.

A kiss with Blaine, the guy who loves you back.

“You're sure, right?”

“Yeah, now I won't be "bi" myself anymore” he laughed with a small blush “Just getting used to my new label, babe”

You turned away so he couldn't see that your cheeks had a blush not unlike his. Ah Blaine Anderson, you colour me pink.