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cable-knit-sweater · 8 months ago

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Before The First Light

Rating: T Word count: 884 words Tags: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, nightmares, minor injuries, Steve Rogers needs a hug, (light?) angst

Written for @catws-anniversary || March 26 prompts: on your left, PTSD, endurance

He’s running.

Steve’s running so fast that even with the serum coursing through his veins, his lungs are starting to burn with the strain of exertion. He barely pays any attention to the bullets whistling past him, dodging and weaving to avoid them, almost just on instinct. It is on instinct. There isn’t much time to think about anything but getting out.

The place is a fucking maze though, so it’s taking longer than he’d planned. So much for that damn song, he thinks, almost laughing at the irony. So much for being the man with a plan.

He presses on, through endless corridors twisting and turning, Hydra soldiers hot on his heels. Steve thinks that maybe they’ve finally figured it out, judging from the screaming and cursing. That he’s just a diversion so the other Howlies could go to work.

By now, they’ve definitely set the place to blow. By now, Steve should’ve made his way out.

A bullet grazes his shoulder, but he tries to ignore the searing pain as he pushes himself harder, his heart hammering in his chest.

Suddenly, he’s outside, the building exploding behind him. He’s hit with a blast of air, pressure, heat, but it just propels him forward faster. There’s still no time to think.

There’s more cursing and shouting. This time it’s not in German though.

It’s in a heavy Brooklyn accent, his favorite in all the fucking world.

“Are you fuckin kidding me? Are you tryin’ to get blown to pieces? For fuck’s sake Rogers!!”

“Just brushing up on my German,” he yells back as he gets closer and closer to the source of the cursing and shouting. “You know, they’d call you an Arsch-”

“Don’t you even think ab- fuck, Stevie, watch out! Three at your 9 o’clock!”

Steve twists and turns to the right, still running towards the treeline that Bucky is shouting at him from. He doesn’t slow down or turn back - he’s made that mistake before and gotten an earful - as Bucky takes out the Hydra goons with his rifle.

He doesn’t slow down or turn back until he gets to Bucky’s position. That’s where he draws the line. Steve’s not ever going anywhere without him.

By the time he comes to a stop, Bucky has taken care of the last stragglers, and Steve collapses against a tree.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, you can say that again,” Bucky grumbles as he drops down from a tree branch. “What the fuck?”

They start running again, side by side, Bucky on his left like always. There’s no benefit in sticking around. There might be more Hydra soldiers out there, and the other Howlies will definitely give them shit if they take much longer catching up to the group.

“Hmm.”

“I was this close to coming in and dragging your ass out. Did we not have a plan?”

“I was fine. I am fine, stop bitching, Buck.”

Bucky pushes his shoulder against Steve’s, and he winces. Of course, Bucky notices. “Fine, huh? I’m thinkin I should just tie myself to you so you don’t go runnin’ off making stupid ass decisions.”

“What makes you think I won’t do that with you tied to me?”

“Good point,” Bucky huffs. “You’d probably enjoy it, and then you’d just drag me int-”

The rest of his sentence gets cut off by a blood curdling scream. Steve’s heart stops. It’s Bucky.

****

Steve jolts awake.

He’s drenched in sweat, his senses still reeling. A little disoriented, he scans his dimly lit room, heart hammering against his ribcage, the image of Bucky lying motionless on the ground, blood staining the fabric of his uniform, still seared freshly into his mind.

It’s hard to ground himself. It seemed so real for a moment, like it was yesterday. But he’s not waking up in a tent in the French countryside, or on his cot back at SSR headquarters in London. He’s not waking up with-

He wakes up alone, in his DC apartment, and it’s never felt more suffocatingly small.

With a heavy sigh, Steve swings his legs over the edge of his bed. His muscles are protesting with the weight of exhaustion that still clings to him, but there’s no point in staying in bed. It’s not like he’s gonna get much more sleep now. He knows what images he’ll see if he closes his eyes.

Instead, he forces himself out of bed, switches out of his sweat-drenched clothes and into his running gear, and makes his way out of the apartment as quickly as he can.

Running - ironically, given tonight’s dream - will help. Just to have a moment, an hour (or two) to not have to think, that’s all he needs. It doesn’t matter that it’s barely light out. He’ll be at it for a while.

Maybe he'll try a different route today. Make his way south towards the Potomac, run a couple laps around the Mall before it’s run over with tourists.

Yeah, that’s what he’ll do. The sunrise over the Mall will make a pretty sight. Not enough to dislodge the dream still haunting him, but he doesn’t think anything ever will be.

He doesn’t take much time to warm up, even if he knows he should. Soon enough, he’s running full speed.

He’s running.

Steve’s running fast, but his lungs don’t burn. His heart, though. His heart aches.

#catws10 #steve rogers #stucky #fanfiction #rated: t #maya tries to write #this isn’t my favorite thing I’ve written lol not even close #but I wanted to contribute so here we are after a long work day 😂😭#march 26 prompts #ficlet

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ghostmemesource · 2 years ago

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👻୧‿︵‿︵ ash vs. evil dead sentence starters

these are quotes taken from the starz series ash vs. evil dead. send in one of the prompts below for my muse’s response. please change pronouns/names where you see fit.

First thing I got to do is see a guy about a book. Must be some spell I can say to undo all this.

The other first thing I got to do is some cardio, ’cause my heart is jackhammering like a quarterback on prom night.

One false move, and I will Second Amendment your brains all over this truck.

We’re not leaving a trail of blood and guts behind us, we’re keeping Michigan moist.

There’s one thing I learned from [name]. Shoot first, ask questions never.

Last time I was here with a girl, I was hopin’ to get laid.

If I’ve learned anything from you, [name], it’s that if something seems too good to be true, it probably is.

Hey, I’m looking for a friend. He’s, uh, tall, dumb, smells like… bread.

You fought this thing before. Maybe you just got to finish what you started.

Yes, I’m upset. Yes, I’m behind the wheel. Yes, I’m drunk. And maybe my license isn’t the fancy kind from the DMV. But at least I’m drunk!

Without good, there is no evil.

With all due respect, your tiny brain is a lot safer without my problems inside it.

Trust me, once you get jacked in the face, it’ll all click. I can’t even get my nut up to rumble unless I’ve had a good shot to the chin.

Once again I saved the world. Now it's time to get the girl.

Most people go through life thinkin’ they’re totally safe. People like us, we know the truth. Life is hard and dangerous, and sometimes you just gotta chop off somebody’s head to survive.

I kill demons, not people. Unless those people are demons, who look like people. And then I kill people, but they’re not really people, they’re demons. You understand?

Never get between a papa bear and his cub.

What’s out there knows that you’re alive, and it wants you to be… un-alive.

Well, good news I found a piece of pie with no blood on it. Anybody want a bite?

To save those two, I would submit to a prostate exam.

This town is only big enough for one asshole, and that asshole is me.

Sometimes what you think you saw, it’s exactly what you saw.

Someone needs to wash your mouth out, kid. And that someone is me.

Now I’m gonna kill you, just like I killed your father! I didn’t really kill your father, that just kinda sounded cool.

I gotta warn you, you’re gonna want to leave your husband for me, and I can’t let that happen. Family values.

I’m not drunk enough to know if this is good-weird or bad-weird. But I’ll get there though.

I’m going to be like a ninja losing his virginity, quick and discreet.

I told you. A good shot to the face always gets the juices flowin’.

Thanks for the opinion, appreciate it. Now you can take it, turn it sideways, shove it right up the old poop chute.

When you get back to Hell, work on your aim.

Do you know what evil is, [name]? It’s power without fear, without guilt, and without pain.

Hey, good looking. You here to break me out or break me in?

I'm gonna get you pregnant later.

I'd know that caboose from anywhere.

Even if this goes perfectly, there's a good chance you'll die.

Well, [name], it's been fun catching up. Sorry I got to kill you.

Don't you get it? Everybody dies here. It's just a rule.

If once you start down that path, forever, it will dominate your destiny.

Did you just Yoda quote me?

Alright, look, we get this done quick enough, we might have time to stop for churros.

Yeah, well, your cooking was shit.

Yeah, I remember when I was like you. Young, dumb, full of… conflicting emotions.

Sweet musical Jesus, that's your friend? Oh, she's filthy and fine!

She haunts my dreams. Just kidding. She does, though.

Do me a favor will ya, thank your mother for me? She passed her genes down to you in all the right places.

Damn, [name]. Badass.

Why are you covered in blood?

So look, uh, I'm not a grief counselor, but if it's any consolation, I have had to kill and bury loved ones before. A bunch of times, actually.

Oh sure. I'll just sit here with the police officer we tied up and rethink my recent life choices.

Get ahold of yourself, woman!

I'm gonna say a lot of dumb things.

#rp meme #rp memes #sentence starters rp meme

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daemonvision · 2 years ago

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Thinkin real hard about the whole “oh they’re in hell” excuse… and just. Morality in Hazbin (and Helluva) in general. What it means for the humor and the story.

Of course they’re gonna be shitty people. It is hell. I don’t think anyone’s denying that.

But the thing is some of them still need to be like. Relatively sympathetic? So we can root for them? And that doesn’t mean they’re free from any consequences. There needs to be some sort of accountability, calling out or acknowledgement. Hell certainly isn’t free of consequences. It’s whole thing is that it’s. You know. The consequences of your actions in life.

Vivzie could very well hit all her characters in both shows with karma later down the line, but right now it seems they have been and will be rather easily… forgiven by the narrative? She’s almost there in revealing these characters’ sympathetic aspects and having some conflict but there really needs to be more moments where it really bites them in the ass. Hell is not a place for any sinner or demon to get off scott free. It seems more like if anything, she prefers just woobifying characters like Angel or being like “see!! They have redeeming qualities!!” With alastor and Stolas…

And the levels of evil are… hard to parse. Both in terms of what the show portrays it as and the fandom. For instance, Loona can physically abuse her dad for laughs, but Stella is a bad abuser who deserves no sympathy. Of course, Stella is a bad person, but wouldn’t Loona turning to violence with no prompting also be considered that bad?

I hope I’m wording this right bc I don’t know if I am, but it’s just. It’s just off the mark.

#hazbin critical

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neonskullboyz · 2 years ago

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I posted 354 times in 2022

That's 354 more posts than 2021!

7 posts created (2%)

347 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@skullrockdreamer

@prettyboybillyhargrove

@wrecked-fuse

@grey-sides

@neonponders

I tagged 353 of my posts in 2022

#fanart - 237 posts

#harringroveson - 104 posts

#mungrove - 85 posts

#steddie - 80 posts

#eddie munson - 44 posts

#skullrock boys - 31 posts

#avedanyash - 29 posts

#s4 - 29 posts

#ficlet - 28 posts

#wrecked-fuse - 27 posts

Longest Tag: 67 characters

#because all the eddie fans who are also chill or in love with billy

My Top Posts in 2022:

I actually want...to write...harringroveson 🧐 ??

Send me fic/au ideas!

11 notes - Posted November 23, 2022

The Stranger Things fandom doesn’t deserve Eddie Munson.

The Stranger Things writers don’t deserve Steve Harrington.

All of us deserve Billy Hargrove, but for vastly different reasons.

12 notes - Posted October 21, 2022

This might be a bit sappy but I want to thank everyone for not only shipping Mungrove and Harringroveson, but like...immediately throwing Billy and Eddie together.

Thank you for not leaving Billy behind.

78 notes - Posted August 15, 2022

I’m keeping your Harringroveson prompts in my ask box so I don’t lose them, but at the moment I like thinking about a fusion of ideas (from Anonymous🌹 and @a-redharlequin 🌹) :

• a/o/b where they genuinely are a/o/b. we do not get enough of alpha/beta/omega triads in my professional opinion.

• Billy and Eddie became friends and went on a trip from Hawkins to Indianapolis for Billy's 18th birthday. They go to a popular bar at night and find out Steve sings there.

My spin on it is that Steve is alpha but he’s asexual. Eddie and Billy are very sexually involved with each other and overall, these three defy their gender stereotypes. Eddie’s a beta who swings wide in both soft omega and domineering alpha territory. Billy’s an omega, but no one can really tell because Billy Acts Like That, the chaotic boy.

They find Steve being a romantic hunk on stage and lay the moves on him, but they’v encountered Steve in a rough patch. He’s tired of being a service top and just tired of sex in general because the boy needs romance. He wants to be in love.

Billy and Eddie are swinging and missing in their attempts to get with Steve and it would honestly be hilarious because this is still King Steve, for crying out loud. He’s the prettiest alpha within fifty miles, probably more. He knows what they’re doing. Hell, he even likes it, having two groupies show after show. He likes Eddie’s gangly movements and clumsiness. He likes the way Billy looks at him, makes his tummy go all molten; especially when those groggy blue eyes shock comically awake at something Steve said so the bravado vanishes.

Maybe Steve swats at Billy’s dangly earring because he feels a compulsion to touch.

Maybe Steve licks the candy necklace Eddie wears during the Valentine’s show.

Basically just because Steve is ace, doesn’t mean he isn’t King, and Billy and Eddie have their work cut out for them when it comes to learning affection outside of the bedroom.

80 notes - Posted November 28, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Thinkin’ about a Steve who just doesn’t understand why Billy and Eddie are friends. Steve and Billy have finally established something like friendship, but right as Steve is finally itching for Billy’s attention, affection, anything - Billy starts spending more time with Munson.

Billy’s not giving up the goods, and Steve is starting to think that he looks as pathetic as he feels, vying for Billy’s attention. Maybe Billy finally understands, or at least takes pity on Steve after Steve makes a nasty remark to/about Eddie. Billy always liked King Steve, but Steve’s put the crown to rest, so the venom is really out of left field.

Somehow, Steve finds himself in Eddie’s trailer. He probably went to apologize, but Billy shows up for some weed. Eddie is a forgiving person and offers Steve some shrooms as a token of peace. Steve isn’t a psychedelics kind of guy, which prompts Eddie to be like, “Then you have to enjoy them here. The big guy and I will watch over you.”

Eddie fails to inform Steve that shrooms are more than an hallucinogen, they take a person’s emotional dial and crank it up to a hundred.

Fast forward to Steve being extremely emotional over the amount of mugs in the trailer and disappearing to Eddie’s room to try and sleep it off. It’s a small place, so even blitzed as they are, Eddie and Billy exchange looks of wonder at King Steve crumbling into a puddle. They give him a few minutes before following into Eddie’s room, where Steve’s crying and whining about how Billy doesn’t love him, just led him on and then left him out to dry. How, if Eddie just liked sports, he’d have the whole school eating out of his hands and is far more King material than Steve has ever felt.

The metal heads realize they have a steaming pile of a bisexual crisis on the bed and Eddie chimes, “How’d you guys do in geometry?”

Steve only buries himself under a pillow and Billy squints at him like, What the hell are you talking about?

“Well a three-way takes some expertise in angles.”

“Does that look ready for his first time with dick, to you?”

Eddie sighs as he climbs over Steve to take the side of the bed against the wall. “You can be the light he sees after a bad trip, or you get hit the road. Sounds like that’s what he’s used to already.”

That gets some possessiveness out of Billy, and they both sandwich Steve on the bed, like bowling alley bumpers while his body finishes the trip.

It’s like waking up from a dream. A terrible dream that has Steve’s body feeling like he was in a car accident. Crying is hard work, but Billy’s lips are soft. Eddie’s hair is softer, and he smiles when Steve blurts as much.

“All mine, sweetheart. No crunchy curls here.”

“Hey,” Billy growls, but he can’t be mad with the way Steve shivers.

196 notes - Posted October 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr year in review #neonskullboyz #harringroveson #mungrove #steddie

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m0srael · 3 years ago

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Been thinkin' about babies lately, and so has Harry. 2.2k of VERY sweet domestic fluff. @calypsotempete love, I'm sorry it took me so long to get you this ficlet! Thank you again for being so lovely and for sending in this picrew prompt!I hope you enjoy this! Read my other picrew drabbles here and send me an ask to prompt your own!

Tiny Thing

Everyone always assumes that Harry Potter wants children—as many as possible, as quickly as possible.

Sometimes it feels like the entire Wizarding World got together as soon as Voldemort’s lifeless body hit the ground and collectively pushed “start” on a timer—waiting with baited breath as each second rolled into the next and Harry was still unwed and childless. As if, even in the Wizarding World, it isn’t largely uncommon for eighteen year olds to settle down and start a family.

For years, every single time the paparazzi snapped a photo of him talking to a witch—even if it was just the cashier at his local Apothecary—the Prophet seized on the chance to speculate about his love life.

He thought it would get better when he came out publicly, that all the talk of marriage and family and little Potters might finally taper off. He couldn’t have been more wrong—now every person he stopped to talk to on the street became a potential future parent of his unborn children.

And even though it exhausts him to no end, he gets it. As soon as people learn about his childhood they just assume he must want to start his own family, to right the wrongs of the past and create the loving home he never had, or something. It makes sense. It’s logical. He just doesn’t want that.

If anything, he’s intimately aware of how easily and profoundly it can all go wrong. He’s more than terrified of fucking it all up.

And he understands the almost desperate look in Molly’s eyes when she nags him again about meeting a nice witch and giving her grandbabies. It’s not just about wanting a large family, and seeing all of her children happy and settled. It’s not even about raising the next generation of little Weasleys, though all of those things are certainly part of it.

It’s about being part of a generation whose tomorrows were never promised. It’s about living through two devastating wars that took and took and took—friends and family and futures. It’s about half-empty Hogwarts classrooms and entire Ministry departments being shut down due to lack of staff.

He likes kids, he really does. That’s not the issue. His weekly visits to Andy’s are the highlight of his week. It lifts the weight off his shoulders for a while to watch Teddy create whole worlds for his stuffed animals, and he recognizes the privilege it is to be invited into those worlds. He feels so much joy watching little Rosie try and stuff her mouth full of cereal with her chubby little fingers, her brown eyes wide and her little face smeared with drool.

So he takes his role as godfather seriously. He just doesn’t think he’d ever like to have a baby of his own.

Until, that is, he finally meets baby Scorpius.

Harry can hear the high-pitched wailing before the front door even opens. It sounds like a small cat in mortal pain, and Harry winces as it grows louder.

Draco hardly looks at him when he finally flings the door open, his arms full of a tiny, wriggling baby and his long hair sticking out in all directions. The dark circles under his eyes are even deeper than usual.

“What are you doing here?” He says frantically, bouncing the baby up and down in his arms and patting him gently on the back.

“I, um—I thought we’re supposed to be having dinner, but—“ Harry looks at his watchless wrist as though it will show him his calendar. Maybe he got the day wrong?

“Shit,” Draco hisses, “fuck, I’m sorry, Harry. It’s just…and—“ He winces as Scorpius’s cries become even louder. The baby’s face is turning a startling shade of splotchy red that Harry thinks can’t be good.

“I can g—“ Harry starts to say, but Draco just turns and hustles away into the house.

Harry hovers for a moment, unsure what to do with himself.

He and Draco had begun seeing one another not long after Astoria learned she was expecting. Their courtship had lasted for the whole pregnancy, and everything seemed to be going well, until Astoria’s unexpected death a month after the baby was born.

Between Draco’s fresh grief at the loss of his wife—marriage of convenience though it may have been—and his utter panic about suddenly being the single father to a tiny infant, they’d had few opportunities to discuss exactly how Harry fit into the whole frighteningly new picture.

All Harry knows is that Draco has become hesitant to introduce the baby to anyone he may become attached to if they aren’t planning on sticking around. It isn’t hard for Harry to respect that request—never showing up at Draco’s flat unannounced, and tapping into his admittedly scant well of patience when Draco’s babysitter cancels at the last minute or Scorpius isn’t feeling well.

If he’s honest, having to keep his distance from the baby isn’t exactly a hardship. When Astoria had still been alive, Harry took comfort in the idea that Scorpius’s parental needs would be well taken care of. He was slowly making peace with the idea that any future involving Draco necessarily included his son, and that if they’re serious about one another—Harry is serious about Draco—he couldn’t avoid the kid forever.

But now, any real future involving Draco also involves Harry possibly becoming more of a father to Scorpius. It’s a lot to process, especially when he can hear Draco’s anguished pleas coming from the nursery between tiny, gasping sobs.

“Please, please, little baby, I don’t know what you want! Your diaper is fresh, you just ate, you won’t go to sleep…”

Deaco looks up quickly, startled, when Harry enters the room, as though he’d entirely forgotten Harry is there.

“Oh, shit,” he says again. “Harry. The babysitter canceled, and I’ve been trying to get ahold of Mother all day, but I don’t know where the hell she could be, and then he started having a meltdown and I completely forgot to call you and—“

“Hey, it’s okay.” Harry says, stepping into the small room decorated with golden constellations and blue, smiling clouds. Draco opens his mouth to retort, but Harry interrupts. “It’s no problem, really. I understand. If you want to reschedule that’s fine, but honestly…I’m happy to stay and help.”

He’s a little surprised to realize that he is happy to stay, despite the crying that is about to hit ear-splitting levels. The desperate look in Draco’s eyes and the way he’s clinging to the back of the baby’s onesie as if holding on for dear life tugs at something in Harry’s chest. “More than happy, in fact. I-I want to stay. If that’s okay.”

Draco looks at him for a long moment, still bouncing the angry baby against his chest. He looks conflicted, and Harry is sure he’s about to ask him to leave when the Floo chimes from the other room and Narcissa Malfoy’s voice carries down the hallway.

“Fuck!” Draco says again. He looks back and forth between the baby, who has now cried himself into a case of full-body hiccups, and Harry.

“Just…give me a moment. Hold him while I get that,” he says firmly as he presses the wriggling baby into Harry’s arms and hurries from the room.

The baby stops crying for a moment, startled by his sudden change of context, and blinks up at Harry with big, watery eyes. Harry is surprised to see that they’re an enigmatic shade of blue-grey-green-brown—he was expecting a miniature version of Draco’s steely gaze.

“Hello,” he says softly, and Scorpius let’s out a tiny whimper around his small fist that’s stuffed in his mouth. His wispy, blond hair is sticking up in all directions, so Harry smooths it down with one broad palm. His head is warm and so soft, and he seems to like the sensation, so Harry does it again, and again.

The baby starts to fuss, so Harry hoists him onto his shoulder and starts to pat his back like Draco had done. He presses his nose into the top of Scorpius’s head and breathes in the warm, milky smell that is uniquely baby, a smell that he’s always found quite comforting if he’s honest.

He can hear Draco arguing with his mother in the sitting room, and Scorpius’s tantrum is picking up steam again, so he steps out of the sliding door onto the small balcony off the nursery.

Almost instantly, the baby falls silent again. He huffs out a big sigh, no doubt exhausted from all the crying and blinks his teary eyes against the golden sunset visible over the trees. Harry walks over to a wind chime hanging in one corner of the balcony and begins twisting the striker in front of Scorpius’s little face. He makes an excited noise as the chime tinkles out a happy melody and stretches one chubby hand out to make the noise himself.

“I know we’ve never met,” Harry says softly, his mouth pressed to one of the baby’s silky cheeks, “and this is probably not how you imagined it…well, I don’t know if you can imagine things yet. Point is, I’m your…well, your dad and me…I mean, I’m…Harry.”

Scorpius turns in Harry’s arms to bury his face in Harry’s shoulder and grab a fistful of Harry’s T-shirt. He tilts his head up and stares up at Harry through long, luminescent eyelashes, and the most wonderful thing happens. He smiles. His round cheeks bunch up and his little pink tongue pokes out between his gums, and Harry is smitten.

He’s a bit in awe of how cute Scorpius is, with his round cheeks and tiny, button nose. Harry places a gentle kiss to said nose and chuckles when Scorpius sneezes so hard his whole body shakes.

“Ohh, I’m sorry, bug. I won’t do that again,” he sing-songs. He realizes he’s bouncing gently at the knees, but he doesn’t know when he started that.

A cold breeze blows through the balcony, and it makes Harry shiver, so he knows the baby must be even colder in his thin onesie. Harry maneuvers Scorpius from arm to arm as he tucks the baby inside his jacket and zips it up. It’s so cozy, holding the baby close like this, and Harry feels warm right down to his toes.

“It’s just, I never thought I’d suddenly have a…a kid to look after,” he says into the top of Scorpius’s head. “Not that you’re my kid or anything. I know that. I’ll never be your parent or anything. Your…your mum loves you very much and no one could ever replace her…”

Scorpius’s head lolls, heavy against Harry’s shoulder and his body goes slack in Harry’s arms. His breathing grows slow and even. Harry can hear the little wet noises he’s making as he suckles unconsciously on his fist, still stuffed into his mouth.

Harry knows the baby is finally asleep, but he keeps talking. “Only, I think I’m pretty in love with your dad, and I think I might already be pretty in love with you too, even though we only just met.”

Scorpius stirs, opening and closing his little fist and puffing out a deep breath against Harry’s chest before settling back down. Harry holds him a little tighter.

“He can’t understand you, you know,” Draco says quietly from the still-open doorway. “He’s barely six months old.”

Harry turns to face Draco, who is sagged against the door frame. He looks completely exhausted, but there’s a gentle smile on his face. He’s combed his hair and tied it back in a bun, and he’s changed into a beautiful, maroon jumper. Harry rolls his eyes dramatically. “I’m not a complete idiot.”

“Yes, you are,” Draco teases, his tired smile growing into a beaming grin. Harry smiles back.

They stand, looking at one another for a long moment. The light is fading from gold to grey, and Harry is still bouncing, bouncing, bouncing the baby.

“How long were you standing there?” Harry asks, finally. His voice is shaky. Nervous.

“Long enough,” Draco replies, stepping out onto the balcony.

“I didn’t mean to intrude, really. I know you’re careful about who he meets, and I can still go if—”

Draco leans carefully towards Harry, bracketing Scorpius in between their chests, and presses a lingering kiss to his lips. “Stay. I’m hungry, and I’m craving your curry. And…”

Draco lifts his hands to cradle Scorpius’ tiny head in one palm and Harry’s cheek in the other. “You’re good with him. He wouldn’t fall asleep on you like that if he didn’t feel safe.”

Harry’s eyes go wide. “Yeah? You think? I mean, I’m not sure I’m any good with babies, but I think I want to be. And—”

“Harry. Shut up.” Draco says, leaning in for another kiss.

“Sorry, sorry, I—” Harry’s whole body curls in on itself from fear of waking the baby, and his voice goes nearly silent.

“No, idiot. I’m pretty in love with you, too.”

#mose's picrew drabbles #picrew drabbles #drarry #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry picrew

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kanos · 3 years ago

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❝why are you looking at me like that?❞

prompt for vik x v thanks

will actually die for you gina - hand in marriage pls

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Viktor hardly looks when he hears the door open and continues watching the fight on the screen in front of him. There’s shuffling on the steps and another louder noise that draws his attention, to which he turns in his stool and stands. Someone is hurt and his blood runs cold as he tries not to imagine who it could have been. Silently prays his next patient isn’t a skimpily dressed woman with long purple hair and a beautiful face.

What might be every man and woman’s dream, was his nightmare.

He instantly moves towards the door when he hears his name called and Jamie comes into view on the other side of the metal gate, blood coating her side while her hand covers the wound, putting his fears to reality. He pulls it open and catches her as she falls against his chest, resting her forehead against his shoulder.

“Fuck, V.” He groans as he lifts her up, carrying her to the operating chair, wincing as she cries in pain when he sets her down. “What have you gotten yourself into this time?”

Jamie laughs shortly, hissing after, but still manages to give him a smile. “What’re you talking about? I’ve done nothing wrong, ever.”

Vik sighs and does a quick scan even though he knows he doesn’t need to, yet, he couldn’t be so careless if something else was wrong. “Bullet is still lodged in your side. I’m gonna have to take it out.”

“Oh, good. Just make sure it doesn’t hurt, okay Vik?” Jamie lays her head back and closes her eyes, taking a breath as he touches her side.

He shakes his head and frowns as he gets to work, fixing her up as safely as he can. He’s worried about the blood loss, but according to his scan, she wasn’t fairing too terribly. She stays quiet while he’s focused, but he can feel her watching him every so often and pays her no mind.

“Okay. You should be good.” He moves to the computer and carefully keeps an eye on her as she sits up. “When will you stop being so reckless with your life?” He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but he did.

Jamie just laughs and runs a hand through her hair. “Jeez, Viky. Got bills to pay and food to eat. Clothes to buy. Biz is biz. I got shot, you fixed me up. I get hurt, I give you more biz.” He watches her for a moment and she sighs. “Thank you, by the way. I’m glad you were here.”

“Next time, I might not be. Next time, I might not be able to save your ass, so be safer about the jobs you take. I don’t need you dying on me.” He can’t keep his eyes off her as she stares at him and he watches as the weight of his words settle in. He hadn’t meant for them to hurt, but they were true and she needed to understand that he couldn’t handle seeing her die.

“I know.” She whispers and reaches out to place her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Vik. I’ll be more careful about it.” The tender moment is gone however when she lets go and rolls her eyes. “The fuckin’ bastard came up behind me, I didn’t notice him. This is why I usually go with Jack, but he had other plans for today.”

Viktor hums and turns his attention back to the computer. Silence falls over them again and he can feel her eyes on him once again, but he wants to finish up before he gets side tracked anymore than he already was. Constantly taking care of Jamie wasn’t what he had planned for his life, but he admits he does enjoy having her around - if only she could keep it that way. It had been some time since she last showed up to his shop, but he hopes next time it won’t be like today.

He starts going over the costs with her - although he’s sure she isn’t going to be able to pay him today, but he wasn’t going to turn her away for that - when he stops and stares back at her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jamie sends him a smile and a softness in her gaze he feels he doesn’t see often. “Just thinkin’ I might be in love with you.”

“You sure that bullet didn’t damage anything else, V?” Vik jokes, but he can tell that she isn’t just being herself and flirting with him - or rather, she is, but this time felt a little different. He shakes his head and clears his throat. “‘Preciate it, but think that's a pretty gonk idea you got there.”

She throws her legs off the operating chair and moans as her feet hit the floor. Without really thinking about it, he turns and steadies her, his hands finding their place on her hips. “Bullshit.” Jamie whispers, pain in her voice but he can’t tell from what. “Why is it so hard for you to believe? Why do you think I come by so often?”

“Telling me you got shot just to see me? I’m honored.” There’s no humor in his words, but she laughs anyway. “Come on, you need to rest.”

Viktor leads her around the table and passes the other computers to where there’s a dark and secluded area with a couch. He helps her sit and stops when she takes his hand, pulling his palm up and holding it against her cheek, which is warm and soft against his skin.

Her voice is low as she catches him off guard with the next thing she says. “You don’t know how bad I want to fuck you right now.”

“Jamie.” He warns, but he can’t really deny her that. It’s not like he hasn’t ever thought about it, but always chose to keep her at arms length. Clearly, whatever he was doing wasn’t exactly working.

However, she only smiles as she releases his hand and adjusts herself on the couch. “But the doc is right. I should rest.” Jamie leans back and smiles sweetly at him. "Thanks again, Viktor."

"Last time." He says almost automatically, but he doesn't mean it. There will be more incidents and he will fix her up with no complaints.

#idk it came to me... its soft #oc: jamie voss #otp: vik x v #viktor vektor #viktor vektor x v #*fic #ginadotjpg #v: im just tryin to bang / vik: no #this is 1k??? i'm movin up yall #whatever its not great but here have it

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walkerwords · 4 years ago

Text

“To Feel Better” Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

Request from Anonymous: for your requests i saw a prompt where it was person A finding excuses to hold person B's hand such as my hands are cold will you warm them for me I think that would be cute with Daryl.

Word Count: 1859

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “Cardigan” by Taylor Swift

Note: I love fluff requests yall! This one is set during the time our survivors are looking for shelter after the fall of the farm!

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When the farm fell, nobody knew what they were doing.

Herschel and Rick were doing their best to keep some sort of order within the group, but they could only do so much once the cold set in and the food became more scarce. Then after losing some people during the invasion of Walkers and Shane’s attempt at a coup, pieces felt as if they were being broken off.

Andrea had been someone who you trusted wholeheartedly. You had been with her and her sister, Amy, since the beginning. Andrea had protected you both, but in the end it had been Amy who befell the fate of the new world. Her death still followed you around and you knew that it had haunted her sister for a while as well. If anything, it had made Andrea harder and more resilient. Still, she kept her eyes on you and you knew that if it came down to it, you would protect her with everything you had. That remained true until you saw her go down on the farm and never saw her reemerge from the horde as Daryl pulled you on to the back of his bike and took off down the dirt path.

Now it was only a matter of time before someone else was lost. With the larger herds moving North all the time, the group had to keep moving and there wasn’t any time to rest for more than a couple of days. With Lori being pregnant, it was definitely causing more issues. You were exhausted, Shane was dead, Rick was keeping something a secret, and Carl was growing up before your eyes. It was too much, too fast.

Winter was coming and going, the weather never staying the same in the South. You had been used to that your entire life, but without constant shelter or warm meals, every time the temperature dropped even a fraction, stress levels skyrocketed within the group and it was starting to get to you. Daryl, someone you had grown closer to since the farm, had tried to keep your spirits up the best he could, but there was only so much he could do.

It was late one night when you found yourself alone on watch. Rick and Maggie had found a house that was far enough from the road with working locks and insulated enough to offer warmth. Nobody dared light a fire in case the Living decided to poke around, but it was better than sleeping in another field with one eye open.

You were rubbing a stray bullet between your fingers as you saw on a bench just in front of the house when Daryl approached, the gun that housed said bullet was in your other hand. “I got watch,” he said, taking a seat next to you.

“I’m fine,” you said, keeping your eyes on the dark wall of trees before you.

“Ya need sleep,” he argued, but you remained still.

“I said, I’m fine,” you repeated.

“Ya, that’s what ya always say,” he said. It was silent then as he sat next to you. Daryl knew when not to push you and this was definitely one of those times. If there was one person who could sit in complete silence and say more with just their body language it was you and Daryl appreciated that after hours of constant noise from the rest of the group.

It was after a while that Daryl finally realized what you kept playing with in your hand. He recognized it as a gun that was once shoved in his face when he had first arrived at the quarry with Merle. “That Walsh’s gun?” he asked, nodding his head toward the pistol. You nodded, turning over the weapon in your hand. He wasn’t sure where you had found it, but he could tell that you had cleaned it up. “You thinkin’ about him?”

“I don’t know what happened,” you finally said. “He was so strong…”

“Even the most level-headed people can get corrupted by this world,” Daryl said and you thought it was one of the most profound things he had ever said. Then again, you figured that Daryl was incredibly bright and he just didn’t let people see that side of him.

“I thought he’d be one of the last people standing,” you admitted.

“Didn’t realize you were that close,” Daryl said with a frown.

“He saved my life,” you said with a shrug, remembering back to all the times Shane had pulled a Walker off of you when you were distracted. “He always looked out for Amy, too. Look, he wasn’t a great man, I know that, but I owed him enough. I was hoping he’d make it at least a few more years.”

“I get that,” Daryl said with a sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. You had noticed that it was getting longer, especially on the sides.

“Sorry,” you said, “I know you hated him.”

“I didn’t trust him,” Daryl clarified.

“Fair enough.”

You sat back into silence then. Your ears were scanning for the familiar groans of the Dead or the subtle footprints of the Living, but so far, nothing had approached the newest nest for the group. You were definitely missing the RV on the more treacherous nights.

Daryl was quiet before he looked over at you. You could see his face out of the corner of your eye, but you tried your hardest to ignore him. You knew Daryl had been looking out for you for a while. Or rather he had been watching you and you knew he was worried, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take any extra steps towards him. No matter how much you wanted it.

“You know,” you began, breaking the silence, “I wanted to study old bones and all that.”

“So, an anthropologist?” Daryl said. You looked over at him with shock on your face and he clocked it immediately. “What, I watched the History Channel,” he defended, causing you to laugh.

“Yeah, Daryl, just like that,” you said. “I wanted to know how humanity began, but I’m only seeing what we’ve become,” you said as you stared at a Walker corpse that Maggie had downed a few hours before.

Your hand began to twitch then, a nervous habit you had developed as a teenager. It always exposed everything that you were too afraid to say. There was something about the way your body always knew what was wrong before your mind did. You figured it was something to do with the survival instincts that had kicked in the night they dropped fire on Atlanta and other major cities.

Daryl noticed your hand instantly. “You’re doing it again,” he said quietly.

“Nervous habit,” you said, clenching your fist, trying to quiet your nerves. “It used to drive my mom crazy.”

“You don’t talk about her anymore,” Daryl noticed. Turning to look at him, you furrowed your brow. “It’s just, ya used to talk about her at the quarry with Amy and Andrea a lot,” he said with a shrug.

“Guess I haven’t been in the mood to be sentimental lately,” you said.

“I get that,” he said as he continued to watch the slight tremor in your palms. “My mom died before all this,” he said and you were surprised to hear him say anything about his family. Besides Merle, Daryl never mentioned anything about his past. At least, not to you.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“I’m just glad ya know, that she didn’t have to see all this shit,” he said and you knew what he was talking about. In an odd way, anyone who had died before the outbreak lucked out. Nobody deserved to see the new horrors of the world and nobody deserved to be fighting tooth and nail just to survive. Lifting your head to the sky, you watched as a single star shot across the darkness before it disappeared again in the plethora of stars and scattered moonlight.

“Odd, isn’t it?” you asked.

“What?”

“That because the world is dark, we finally see the stars. Living in cities always hid them,” you said with a sigh.

“Yeah,” Daryl said, following your gaze.

“ ‘Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars’,” you quoted with ease.

“Tolkien, huh?” Daryl said, recognizing the words.

“Look at you,” you teased and Daryl rolled his eyes.

“I read,” Daryl defended and you raised your hands in surrender. The movement then sparked something in Daryl as he caught your hand in his and held it gently. Your hands stilled from the warmth and firm grip of the archer’s hands. You were sitting in silence as he began to rub his thumbs along the nerves and muscles in your hands.

Daryl was silent as he caressed your hand, taking his time to soothe your anxieties away. “You are gonna be okay,” he whispered, his focus on his task.

“How do you know?” you whispered back.

“Because ya ain’t one to let this world beat ya,” Daryl said simply. You took a minute for that to sink in and you knew that he was right. If anything, you were not going to give up so that the dying world took you with it. You knew that death was inevitable, but you also knew that you had come too far already to start to give up now. “Do you know the story of the man who fought off three bears and lived?” Daryl asked suddenly.

Looking over at him, you raised your brows. “What?” Daryl nodded.

“Yeah, the crazy son of a bitch jumped into a bear enclosure at a zoo to test if he could survive the worst possible thing,” he said. “Fought them all off with his hands and a tree branch. Nobody thought a person could do that and he did. Only came out of there with a broken hand.”

“Is there a moral to this story?” you asked. Daryl turned your hand over in his, tracing the lines on your palm.

“Don’t try to fight bears unless you’re high on pretty hardcore shit because he had to have been, right?” Daryl said easily and you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of your chest. Daryl gave you a smile then and you realized what he was doing.

“Was that story even true?” you asked.

“Nah,” Daryl said. “Does it matter, though?”

“Not at all,” you whispered, wrapping your other hand around the joined ones between you. Moving closer to him, you leaned into him, feeling his body heat. “Thanks.”

Daryl gently lifted your hand to his face and pressed a kiss to the back of it in a very rare act of tenderness. His lips lingered on your skin for just a second before relaxing further into you.

“Anytime,” he murmured as you sank into comfortable silence and watched for the enemy that was sure enough to break through your newfound bubble of peace. However, you knew that when that happened, the man by your side would be the one to jump into the fray and wrestle with a few bears of his own.

TAGS: @thanossexual @felicisimor @moonstuffsteve @lucillethings @stark-dreams

#walkerwords #the walking dead #twd imagines #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon #twd #imagines #daryl x gn reader #daryl x reader #daryl imagine

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breanime · 4 years ago

Text

Intentions

Okay, here’s my shot at a Tommy Shelby fic... Let me know what you think, please!

Prompt: “You think I would do this for just anybody?”

You weren’t entirely sure what possessed Tommy Shelby—the Tommy Shelby—to assist you, but you decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and just appreciate it. Ever since he’d overheard you telling Ada about the men who harassed you on the streets, Tommy had taken it upon himself to make sure you always had an escort home.

And for the last five days, that escort had been him.

“Really, Mr. Shelby—” you began, holding your purse in front of you as Tommy locked up the office.

“—Tommy,” he corrected you, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Tommy,” you repeated, “you don’t have to keep doing this, really. I can just walk.”

“You live 45 minutes from the office,” he said back, “and that’s not counting having to stop for fucking protests or some pieces of shite trying to pick you up. Then it’s around 56 minutes if it’s raining or snowing,” he went on, “More if it’s doing both at once,” he led you to his car, opening the door for you, “You work hard; you ought to have your boss make sure you get home safe.”

You bit your lip, trying to keep your growing smile in check. Tommy had no way of knowing that—the time it took for you to get home—unless he walked the walk himself. “Well,” you said, climbing into the car, “I really do appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well just appreciate it quietly, eh? Don’t need the other girls thinkin’ they can get a free ride out of me,” he glanced at you, giving you a small smile that made your heart flip in your chest. You watched as he started the car, and he turned to you, “Why do you stay in that neighborhood, anyway?” He asked you. “It’s so far from town, the buildings are old, the landlords are pricks…”

“It’s the only neighborhood that houses Blacks,” you answered, “Or at least it’s the only one that houses us at an affordable price.”

“Hm,” he nodded, looking ahead as he drove, the smoke from his cigarette billowing from his lips, “Am I paying you that poorly?”

You laughed, and you didn’t miss the way his lips twitched upwards as you did. “You pay me well above the usual rate. I’m just saving it up, is all. I can’t have you driving me around forever, Mr. Shelby—”

“—Tommy,” he corrected you.

You rolled your eyes, making him chuckle, “Tommy,” you amended yourself.

“I don’t mind it, you know,” he said, turning the wheel, “driving you. These last few days, it’s been… nice,” he paused, “I don’t get a lot of time for good company or conversation on me own.”

“Oh, so I’m good company, am I?” You said with a grin.

Tommy turned to you, those diamond blue eyes staring right into your soul, “You’re a smart girl,” he replied, “Loyal, Trustworthy. Hard working. And you’re bloody gorgeous so. Yes. You make for good company.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, and your eyes darted down to your lap. You’d heard that Tommy Shelby was a charmer, and that he’d had pretty much every woman who’s worked for him—minus his aunt and his sister-in-law, of course—but you’d never seen him so… forward.

You liked it.

“Have I made you uncomfortable?” He asked casually, as if he was asking about the weather.

“No,” you answered, looking over at him, “You make for good company too.”

He gave a wry smile then. “Fishin’ for a raise, eh?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Either I’m loyal and trustworthy, or I’m bootlicker. Which is it, Tommy?”

He laughed, and the sound made you warm all over. Tommy didn’t laugh nearly as often as he should. “Fair enough,” he nodded, “You’re not a bootlicker, that’s for sure,” he glanced over at you again, “I haven’t figured out what it is you are yet…”

“I’m a girl who isn’t gonna let you fuck her just cause you’ve given me a few rides,” you said back, speaking before you could stop yourself.

He raised his eyebrows, nodding. “Is that what you think is going on here?” He asked. “My driving you home from work? You think I’m doing this for sex?”

You licked your lips, nervous now. “Well, I mean no offense, Mr.—Tommy—but I’ve worked for you for three months now, and I think I know you well enough to know that you never do anything for nothing.”

Tommy smirked. “That’s true,” he stopped the car, letting a mother and her kids pass in front, and looked at you, his eyes staring into yours brazenly, “So, let’s have it. Give me your theories,” he started the car again, glancing back at you as he spoke, “Why, then, do you think that I do this?”

You paused. Maybe you were being presumptuous. Maybe he didn’t want to sleep with you. Just because he called you gorgeous, didn’t mean he wanted to fuck you, after all. Maybe he didn’t mean what he said—although Tommy always meant what he said. Maybe, though, he really was just concerned about your wellbeing. A woman walking home alone at night could be vulnerable to all kinds of dangers, and given the amount of enemies the Shelbys had… You looked over at Tommy. “You do this for everyone,” you surmised.

Tommy turned to you, an eyebrow raised. “You think I would do this for just anybody?”

Again, you paused. “Yes?”

“Well, I don’t,” he said back, “I’ve never driven any of the girls home—except for Lizzie, but that’s only because I fucked her,” he went on, blunt as ever, “This takes up a portion of my time, and I’m not a man who has a lot of time to waste,” he looked over at you, “I like being around you,” he confessed, “I like the way you talk. I like the way you think, and when I think of you alone at night… I can’t sleep. I can never sleep, but still…” He took his cigarette and tossed it, giving a humorless chuckle. “You make me ramble,” he went on, shrugging one shoulder, “I don’t ramble, least not since France...” He paused for a moment. “When I’m busy, and one of the lads takes you home instead, it ruins me night. It irritates me that I missed out on that time with you, and that another man got it instead,” he glanced at you again, “Is that alright to say?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “I prefer it when you drive me,” you admitted, “Not that the others aren’t nice and all—they are—but… I do like this time with you, being alone with you…”

Tommy looked at you, his sky-blue eyes staring into yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Wordlessly, he pulled the car over, turning to face you fully. “Tomorrow is Friday,” he said, and you blinked, confused as to why he was telling you something you already knew, “Pay day. I’d like to take you out to dinner. Maybe see a picture after. Would that be alright?”

You felt your lips spread out in a smile, and Tommy smiled back, chuckling a bit at the excitement in your eyes. “Yes,” you answered, “yes, that’d be alright.”

“But I want to be honest with you,” he went on, “I respect you as an employee, and you’ve been a good friend to me these past months, and regardless of what happens tomorrow night, I will still make sure you have a safe way home after work,” he leaned forward a bit, his voice low and deep, “but I want it known that I very much do want to fuck you.”

His words sent a flush of heat through you, and you had to remind yourself that you were a lady, not a whore…no matter how much Tommy Shelby’s glimmering eyes and sharp jawline made you want to be… Biting your lip, you smiled at him, “I’m not going to open my legs for you on the first date, Tommy.”

He laughed, taking out another cigarette and lighting it, the flame reflecting in his ocean-colored eyes. “Mm, we’ll see,” he murmured, “So it’s a date then?”

“It’s a date.”

The rest of the drive passed quickly—too quickly for your taste. The two of you discussed work and your families and what movie you’d like to see, and before you knew it, he was parked outside of your building.

He opened the door for you and walked you to the front door like a gentleman. And you thanked him—

—with a kiss.

If the kiss took him by surprise, Tommy didn’t show it. As soon as your lips touched his, his arm was wrapped around you, keeping you close. The kiss was soft, but firm, and Tommy’s slender body felt magnificent against yours. You wondered, at the back of your mind, what your neighbors would think, seeing you necking with Tommy fucking Shelby of the Peaky fucking Blinders, but you couldn’t be bothered to care about what the gossips may say.

You were too busy trying to keep yourself from floating off in a haze of bliss.

You pulled back first, and Tommy let you. You couldn’t keep the smile off of your face. “I’m not letting you up, Tommy.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Like hell you didn’t,” you smirked, making him laugh.

“I’m a patient man,” he said back, taking a step back, “I can wait until tomorrow.”

You laughed at that, but the truth was, you were quite certain that tomorrow night, when Tommy pulled up in front of your apartment, he wouldn’t be driving off until the sun rose.

In fact, you were counting on it.

You watched him drive off from your window, a sigh escaping from deep in your chest, the taste of him—mint and smoke and a hint of whiskey—fresh on your lips. Tommy fucking Shelby…

…what had you gotten yourself into?

*******************************************************************************************

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think! You guys know how I get when I write a new character; I always think it’s shit. So if it is, tell me! And if it’s not, tell me why, please! Should I write for him again, or nah? Cause I kind of have an idea for a Part 2, but IDK if anyone would be interested.

And if you really enjoyed it and you can send in a tip here, I would greatly appreciate it!

Everything Taglist: @sweetybuzz25 @mrsjaxtellerfan @rhabakoli @encounterthepast @realduckvader @justvnash @knowles-morgan @ateliefloresdaprimavera @evanlys19 @nyxxnoxx @carlaangel86 @luminex3 @jigsawlover10 @gollyderek @otomefromtheheart @lexxierave @amethyst09 @falsehopesndreams @a-dorky-book-keeper @witchygagirl @glimmerglittergirl @fvckthisbxtchup @ben-c-group-therapy @felicity-x0 @amirra88 @yourfellowangel @vibranium-soul @xserenax-13 @woahitslucyylu @gemini0410 @ktiz90 @theoceanhathsolace @starrynite7114 @my-rosegold-soul @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @abbiesthings @peaches007 @ifoundmyhappythought @tegggeeee @bisexual-space-slut @mariaenchanted @thesandbeneathmytoes @sheeshgivemeabreak @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @venusis-inretrograde @shaelivia @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @yourwonkywriter @fear-less-write-more

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #tommy shelby x black reader #black reader fic #tommy shelby imagine

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copias-thrall · 3 years ago

Note

How would Mary goore react to hurting someone he genuinely cares about? I absolutely Love your writing!💕

Hello, nonny! Thank you, I love this ask!

This was going to be alist, but it got away from me! 😅

Enjoy 😘

It wasn’t anything big.

Just a few of Mary’s favorite beers (the craft kind—not the shitty beer he drank on his shoestring budget), some of that chronic shit you’d scored and have been saving for a special occasion, and a VHS box set of horror movie classics.

***

Mary comes in and out of your life at will, and that was something you accepted—knowing he was As Is or not at all. And honestly—no, really—you liked that. You had your own shit going on, and being Mary’s expected caregiver was NOT something you wanted to add to that list.

(If someone else wanted to try to tame him and pick up after him, well…kudos to them. Less work for you.)

Mary showed up on your pivotal days and he rubbed your feet and always invited you out to trivia. You'd held him when he was coming down from a bad trip and listened to his grievances and gave him a place to stay when he was persona non grata at his own. And in a way, that made you always feel like #1 in Mary’s world…and that was good enough for you.

***

A few months ago, Mary had been lying on your couch, picking the label off his beer bottle.

“I’m gonna be away for a bit,” he’d said.

“Oh?” you’d responded as you’d mashed the controls on your gaming controller.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ll be around…but I got some shit going on.”

You’d paused your game.

“Bad shit?”

He’d waved you off.

“Neg. Just tryna get myself out there. Signed up for open mics and shit.”

He’d shifted, his long legs receding from around you and folding under him.

“So, like…I got my job at the bowling alley…but nights and weekends are kinda shot.”

You’d tried not to let the disappointment show on your face. You supported Mary’s dreams, and that meant not making an issue that he was finally trying to do something about them.

This wasn’t against you. It was for him.

When you’d taken too long to respond, his face had scrunched.

“But if you want—”

“It’s fine, Mare,” you’d said as you’d made yourself smile. “This is important to you, so it’s important to me.”

You’d unpaused your game.

“Just don’t expect me to not beat this game without you.”

He’d grabbed the controller out of your hands with a snarl, causing you to cry out when you died.

“Fuck the game.” His hand had fisted your shirt. “Give me a night to remember.”

You had. Twice.

***

Mary had texted you occasionally over the next few weeks—a few memes, a few drunken key-smashes, a dick pic, and 2 grainy videos of his performances for critique—but such contact was sporadic, and you’d never seen him in real-time.

He’d blown in one night, five weeks in, with a box of pizza just as you'd been heading out to meet your crew. When you’d told him you’d made plans, he’d looked so crestfallen that you’d caved and canceled on them.

While he’d been there, he’d given you a date in 3 weeks.

“That Saturday I have nowhere to be,” he’d said as he’d chewed. “I can spend the whole day with you.”

You’d been careful not to seem too eager.

“Oh yeah? Should I plan shit?”

He’d crammed the whole crust into his mouth and had given you a doughy grin.

“Why ’’ya think I told you?”

You didn’t know what you’d expected, but when he’d had to bounce 90min later, you were still surprised. (That was hardly enough time to digest!)

“Sorry,” he’d winced. “I gotta be on a bus in 45min.”

He’d left, and you’d been too embarrassed to join your friends who were only just going to the second bar.

Having fun with your man ;) ? one of your friends had texted.

What do you think? You’d texted back before changing into your pjs and turning on Netflix.

***

So maybe you were low-key excited about your day with Mary.

Perhaps you’d spent those 3 weeks figuring out the perfect date—something that said, “I missed you,” without saying “But in a clingy way.”

Beer and horror were two things the both of you were totally into, and you knew he’d be exhausted, so it seemed perfect. You’d bought the boxed set off of eBay and splurged for expedited shipping; you’d borrowed your brother’s old dual TV/VCR from his college days; and you’d forgone your weekly Chinese takeout for the craft beer funds. (And if things got steamy, well…even better.)

***

A few days before The Date, you’d run into Mary on the bus. You were coming home from a shift, and he was going to his.

He’d brightened and waved you over—as if you weren’t already on your way—and you’d plopped down beside him with a tired grin. You’d told him of the latest entitled asshole, and he’d showed you another clip of him on guitar.

Before your stop had come up, you’d tentatively placed your hand over his.

“We still on for Saturday?”

He’d blinked at you a few moments before grinning.

“Yeah.”

“Should I plan a whole day for us, then?”

His arm had crept around your shoulders before pulling you into him to kiss your temple.

“Yeah, why not.”

***

That morning, you wake up happy.

Mary will be over soon.

You roll over and grab your phone.

When should I expect you? :-*

It takes him an hour to respond. You aren’t surprised—Mary isn’t known for being a morning person—so when your phone dings, you grab it up excitedly.

An excitement that dies when you read his text. And reread. And re-reread.

not 2day

goin upste 2 show

You blink.

What show? Didn’t we confirm?

yeah. got me thinkin

why no show?

so i chked

i missed one

gotta do it

Rage blooms hot, then cold behind your eyes and down your cheeks.

But you said we had the whole day. I made plans.

save em

ths is impt 2 me

We’ve had this planned for weeks.

i thot u suprted me

on a bus cnt tlk

You send a few more irate texts, but he doesn’t respond, and you toss your phone across the room with a shout of frustration. You scrub the hot tears from your eyes before they can fall.

And…on paper, Mary isn’t wrong. Nothing you had planned won’t keep: movies, beer, takeout.

But…

It gives you a stark look at what you mean to Mary. He gave you this date and confirmed it. He knew you were making plans.

How long was he going to wait to tell you he wasn’t even in the city anymore?

You fight the urge to kick the VHS tapes across the floor, but you open the fridge and grab a beer. If Queen Elizabeth could have beer for breakfast, then it was good enough for you.

Once you’ve downed all eight, you move on to the jug of vodka you keep for cleaning.

When you empty only liquid from your stomach into the toilet, you grab your frozen fries out of the freezer. You roll a handful of the cold ones in your mouth as you wait for the others to crisp in the oven, and once you’ve consumed the cooked ones, you go right back to the vodka.

***

Opening your eyes the next morning is a mistake, so you take a few deep breaths and go back to sleep.

When you wake again, your heart is fluttering, your stomach turns, and it feels like there’s an ice pick behind one eye. Shuffling slowly, you make your way out to your kitchen where you take some painkillers, drink some pickle juice, and eat two slices of plain bread.

The sense that you did something awful stays with you, but you’re in no condition to find your phone and see what you’ve done. Instead, you go back to bed. It takes more deep breathing to settle yourself, but once you do fall asleep, you’re out for hours.

You don’t feel amazing when you swim to consciousness again, but you feel at least like a human being.

Your phone is dead when you find it under the sink, and waiting the 5 or so minutes for it to charge feels like waiting to face the executioner.

It’s both better and worse than you expected.

You breathe a sigh of relief to see that there are no vague social media posts, and you didn’t drunk dial any of your friends, but…

The texts to and from Mary are ugly.

Apparently, you’d managed not to send him angry texts until he’d sent you another clip of his performing. But then the floodgates had opened.

You’d started with telling him you didn’t give a shit about the show, how he was an inconsiderate ass, and then you'd devolved into incomprehensible, typo-ridden texts that accused him of using you, that you were only something to do when he didn’t have anything better to do, that he was an entitled man-child and if he didn’t apologize, you were done.

Mary’s texts in response range from him being angry at your disregard, to heated retorts you were blowing this out of proportion (and he didn’t appreciate your “ad hominem” attacks), to a cool detachment that this wasn’t working over text and he’d finish this in person.

You put your head in your hands but are too dehydrated to cry.

***

Mary doesn’t text you again during his self-imposed time frame.

You don’t text him either, but that’s more out of self-preservation than pride. There’s no point exacerbating the situation…and you’re pretty sure there’s no coming back from this, so why speed up the inevitable?

The horror tapes taunt you every time you walk by them, and you wonder if you can return them (you can’t). You give the TV back to your brother, and when he asks you how it went, you plaster a smile on your face and say, “Great!” with forced enthusiasm you hope comes across as genuine.

The primo weed goes over to your friend’s house, and the two of you wax poetic all night about existential claptrap as you devour two cheese pizzas and a bag of bbq chips. You talk about Mary without talking about Mary, and you get a heartfelt, “Sorry, dude.”

You beat the video game anyway, but it’s mostly because you needed something to occupy your mind and less out of spite (though that’s there as well).

***

Despite waiting on tenterhooks to hear anything from Mary, you truly don’t really expect to. You know you’d been atrocious, even if it had been prompted by his careless disregard, and you know Mary isn’t really the kind of guy that troubles himself with relationships that are hard.

Not that you’re in a relationship.

So when there’s a knock on your door a week later and Mary’s behind it, you’re genuinely surprised.

You gape through the peephole in shock.

“Fuck. If you’re there, just let me in, ok?”

Fumbling with the chain, you unlock the door and crack it open.

“Mary?”

“You gonna let me in?” he rasps.

You shrug and step away from the door, and he shuffles inside. He looks around like you’ve changed anything (you haven’t), before turning around to face you.

You close the door and stare back.

He folds his arms. “Breaking up with someone over text is tacky.”

What you think is, So you’ve come to do it in person, but what you say is, “Can’t break up if you’re not together.”

He winces and runs his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah…apparently I’ve ‘taken advantage' of you.”

This…isn’t what you’re expecting.

“I…what?”

“Can we sit down?”

You nod, and Mary sits rigidly on the edge of your couch. You curl up in the chair on the opposite side.

He rubs his palms down his greasy jeans before he speaks.

“I mean…you pissed me off, ok?”

You nod.

“But, like—you weren’t wrong, ok? I kinda knew that deep down, but I’m a dumbass, you know?”

You don’t nod.

“And I kinda bitched about the whole thing…but the resounding response was that I was the asshole.”

He angles his body toward you.

“I guess I’ve kinda been treating you like my best friend that I fuck sometimes.”

Your entire face flushes—you’d always thought you’d maybe ranked a little higher than that—and you duck your head so he can’t see the tears that you blink back.

There’s a swish of fabric, and you startle hard when Mary’s hand is at your chin. He jerks back with a Sorry.

“Shit—that’s not what I…” he blows out a breath and puts his hands behind his head before looking back up at you.

“But you aren’t, and…fuck this is harder than I thought.”

So this is it.

Waiting for him to do the deed is clearly going to be excruciating, so you take charge of this whole shit-show.

“I understand,” you say flatly.

“You do?”

“It’s ok, Mare-Mary. It’s my own fault for reading too much into it. I just…I saw what I wanted to see, I guess. I know you don’t need…” you look down into your lap, “…my shit in your life.

He makes a noise low in his throat, and then he’s squatting in front of you, his hot hands planting on your knees.

“But I want your shit in my life.”

You squint your eyes at him.

“But what I said…”

He grasps your hands in his.

“Pissed me off, yeah…cuz I wasn’t fucking thinking, ok? You’re like one of the only people who gives a crap about what’s important to me. And all I could see was you suddenly…not.”

Anger wells up in you again, and you yank away your hands.

“Weeks, Mary…weeks of you all over the tri-state area, and you thought I didn’t care because of one night?! A night you promised to me?”

He sits back on his heels. “I know…fuck. Ok? At the time, it just felt…like the show couldn’t be rescheduled. Our night could.”

Because you’re what he does when he’s bored.

You curl in on yourself.

“Shit.” He leans forward again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, ok? I’m fucking on my knees here.”

You blink at him.

What?

“Please, please don’t break—say we’re done.”

“What?”

“Look, we can go into my shitty fucking psychological profile on why I fuck around later…but right now I need you to know that I knew it was you before I fucking knew it was you.”

You uncurl.

“That…’what’ was me?”

He knees forward and presses your hands to his face.

“The one I wanna spend my free time with. The one whose opinion means the most. The one who was the first person I wanted to share all my good shit with. You’re the one I missed, and—after that awful fucking night—everything felt pointless because I knew I couldn’t come over and jam about it.”

“Mare—what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m a fucking dumbass. I’m saying I thought I was pissed at you, but I was pissed at myself for fucking it up.” He sighs. “I’m saying no fucking one was on my side and they all told me to get my shit together.”

He looks up at you with wide eyes, and for the first time, you can see how they’re outlined in red, his subtle crow’s feet more pronounced.

“So, you’re not done with me? I’m not…too much trouble?”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “What? Shit, no. I’m asking you to not be done with me. I’ll give you all the nights you want. Fucking text me, and my ass’ll be here posthaste.” He shifts up, and his thumb ghosts over your lips. “Anything to get you to give me that secret smile again.”

“Secret smile?” you ask while trying to perform the action.

Mary actually blushes.

“Uh…yeah. You get this…” he makes a motion across his face, “…when you’re giving it back to me.” His fingers shove back through his hair as he casts his eyes down. “You don’t give it to anyone else.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve made a study of it.”

You’re a swirl of emotions. Mary’s apologized—has admitted he was wrong and has asked for…more—but you’re still hurt. And embarrassed.

But he’s looking up at you with wet, hopeful eyes.

“Do you…” you start carefully, “…do you know why I got so mad?”

That statement was clearly not what he was expecting, and he blinks at you a few times before nodding and looking down at the floor.

“I made a…uh, commitment…to you. And I treated it like it didn’t mean anything.”

He gives you a look like, Did I get it right? and that’s close enough—even if he’s missing some of the nuance.

You nod. “And I know I…wasn’t…the best.”

His face contorts, and your heart sinks.

“You…” he shakes his head. “You said some awful things…some hurtful shit—and it really got in my head.”

Mary gives you a complicated look.

“Shit that you’d been pissed about for a while.” He traces your knee. “Shit you could’ve said to me…but shit I should have noticed. Fuck.” He presses his forehead into your knees, and you can’t stop yourself from sinking your fingers into his hair.

He takes it as encouragement and presses into you before looking up again.

“I just kinda wanna put that whole night behind us. It feels like a fucking ouroboros of fault. And like maybe I created it. But let’s agree to like…not do that again.”

You look down at him, and his eyes search your face.

“Ok…but what does all this mean, Mare? I can’t…I need to be something to you, ok? More than just your friend.”

Mary nods emphatically, and he takes your hand and curls his into it.

“No more fuck-ups, and no one else…can we start there?”

He’s saying all the right words, but you’re still trepidatious—you know Mary, and he doesn’t like constraints.

“I…just…how can I believe you?”

He shakes his head like he can’t believe you even have to ask. He rises and awkwardly reaches out to touch your face before drawing his hand back.

“Cuz you’re important to me. I care about you, and I don’t want to lose you. Ever.”

And yeah. Ok.

#asks #mary goore #gender neutral #hurt/comfort #my writing #original post

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ciggylungz · 4 years ago

Text

Mark My Territory

Blurb night: 3.2k

(Request:harry and y/n having yatch sex and blurry pap pics get out ***) + (request: Jealous possessive Harry angsty/angry smut !!! Plsss hehe thank you ❤️)

Warnings: face spitting, painal, dominant Harry, pain kink, humiliation kink, degrading talk, mentions of other fetishes and lots of hardcore brutal smut with an appetizer of angst

Harry has always been depicted as a ‘womanizer’ , a lady killer and all other words for it, yet the people who actually have dated him know truly he’s a romantic. He isn’t a man who only flirts to get his cock sucked then leaves, he’s not a serial cheater or big ladies man. He’s truly a deeply caring, loving man and Y/n was lucky enough to be his and experience that. Yet she couldn’t deny, if Harry had one flaw within relationships it was his undeniable jealousy that could worm it’s way into his mind when he felt someone was getting a little too friendly with his girl. The man was protective and admittedly a bit possessive of his girlfriends, and while it could be appropriate at times it also could be a argument starter at other, however to y/n- angry, possessive Harry was more sexy than scary. Sometimes she may or may not bite back when he tells her who she belongs to, who’s boss and maybe, just maybe she does it to see him get riled up and take the extra step to show her that she belongs to him.

Right now Y/n has found herself in possessive Harry’s fit, they were on a little get away vacation and currently on a Yacht sailing on Jamaican waters. It was beautiful and peaceful, yet tempers rose when Harry thought the man who delivered the booze for the bar was getting a bit too cheeky with his girl.

Y/n though didn’t really notice his behavior as flirty, so it wasn’t like she was reciprocating it in the slightest but she may or may not be pushing a few of Harry’s buttons to see him get all bossy and protective over her. usually that ends with good rough sex, sloppy, dirty and so fucking hot.

“Harry! It’s not a big fucking deal why are you so mad?! He’s not even here anymore! I didn’t pay attention it’s not like when he tried to get cheeky I whipped my tits out for him. God you’re being annoying.” She was putting her sassy bratty act on, one she knew often didn’t end well for her- or rather her windpipe and cervix- both of which typically end up bruised and sore from his hand wrapped around her throat and his cock purposely smashing into it just because he knows how bad it can hurt- and bad girls need to be punished. Sometimes punishment hurts.

“Don’t talk back to me Y/n. The dude was practically eye fucking you, and you didn’t stop it! And showing him your tits? Really? You mentioning exposing yourself, why? Were you thinkin’ about doing it? That top barely cover’s yeh so how do I know you weren’t tryin’ to sneak him an eye full when my back was turned?” his tone was daring, deep and serious. He wasn’t playing around, he was like a dog protecting his territory. When he saw Y/n roll her eyes he marched towards her, his body towered over hers and his glare was threatening. The girl stood her ground though, wanting to see just how far she could push it.

“Oh shut up! You act like I dropped to my knees for that guy! Harry do you hear yourself? The man was like 70! If laying his eyes on a pretty young woman made his day, then I don’t care. It’s not like I was handing the geezer Viagra so he could get it up for me when you were in another room. Shut the fuck up already, I want to enjoy myself.”

She flipped him off before hopping into the pool, letting her entire body submerge to try and cool off her frustrated body. She didn’t have the patience for his tough guy act right now, he was being ridiculous.

When she made it back to the surface of the water she swam towards the railing on the side of the pool, leaning her body against the glass while she floated in the water, her peaceful swim was soon interrupted by a body forcing hers to turn around. Harry was standing in the pool, chest to chest with his girlfriend and he was not fucking happy with her. His eyebrows raised while he pinched her chin between his fore finger and thumb forcing her to look back at him.

“You think that little attitude you pulled back there was cute? Let me give yeh a little refresher since you seem to have forgotten important information.”

She then felt his free hand grope her left breast, roughly so the pain forced her to notice the area and pay attention to the body part-

“These tits, belong to me. No one else should be able to get a good view at them, it seems you’ve forgotten that. And this-“ the man brought his hand up to cradle the back of her head, tugging her hair harshly before continuing “- head, should only be thinking about my fucking cock. The thought of another guys prick, no matter if they’re an old creep like him, should never be inside that pretty little head of yours. You use that pretty brain to think about me. That pretty face is for me to look at, kiss, fuck and use as my cum rag. Or have you forgotten that as well?” when she only answered with big doe eyes getting into her submissive state under his spell of filth he took an opportunity to yank her locks yet again and raise an eyebrow. “You gonna answer me, or are you going to keep lookin’ at me like a brain dead whore that only I can make you?”

A muted whimpered moan came from her mouth before she spoke, “Belong to you, I’m yours Harry.” Her throat suddenly felt a bit dry, words coming out a tad bit sandy which the man noticed. “Wha’s the matter? Throat gone dry? Yea?-“ Y/n nodded never letting their gazes part “-here, let me help.” He used the fingers latched on her chin to force her mouth open, collecting his saliva before spitting it directly into her mouth with a filthy aggressive ‘spat’ noise. He kept his gaze on his spit as he watched it slide down her throat seeing the muscles constrict when she swallowed it fully, a desperate whine coming out of her next.

“Still thirsty, love? Throat still dry? Open-“ she complied immediately, sticking her tongue out and letting him project another collection of spit into her mouth before deciding to get filthy with her, dribbling little bits of spit on her still out tongue seeing some drip onto her chin which gave him another prompting to really make her feel dirty like her behavior was asking for, he pulled back closing her mouth for her and spat directly onto her face.

Y/n gasped a bit, of course her and Harry had done every dirty thing you can imagine. Vanilla was not in their vocabulary when it came to sex, they’d done everything from voyeurism and taboo roleplays to experimenting with knives and pee play, so this wasn’t the first time he’s spit on her face, she just wasn’t expecting it that time. Harry had watched as it started to roll from her nose and drip, her tongue darting back out of her mouth to collect the falling spit swallowing it greedily.

“I think you’re starting to remember how things work aren’t ya? You’re my little girl, you even drink from me don’t yeh? Let’s do some more refreshing, this right here-“ Harry’s large palm migrated to cup her bikini covered cunt giving it a harsh squeeze making sure to pinch her lips between his fingers for a little bit of pain added to the grip. “-this darling little cock sleeve, also is mine. I own your pussy, sweetheart. Now let’s hear you say it, go on use that little brain for m’”

Y/n was practically a puddle of mush at this point. She loved being roughed up, degraded and treated rather harshly during sex. She loved when he’d participate in that kink of hers since Harry himself thinks very highly of women, so he’s not often giving her the full ‘you’re a stupid fuck doll’ treatment. This was a treat for her, getting him so riled up he was being extra rough even verbally.

“I belong to Harry, my body is yours.” A needy whimper followed her words, hands holding onto his flexed biceps just needing to feel her man, his dominance amplifying her needy nature and submissive tendencies. The man cooed at her, giving her a little smile. “Good girl, now what else do yeh need to say to m’? hmm?”

“I’m sorry for being bad, I love you Hazzy” her lips puckered for a kiss, getting a few simple pecks from him as a reward yet she wanted more. Harry knew that fact, but he wasn’t going to cave that easily. She needed to really understand he wasn’t fucking around this time and those snotty comments about flashing herself and mentioned the old guys prick wouldn’t fly, not at all.

“I love you too, darling. I accept your apology, but you’re not off the hook yet. You were very naughty, you know better than to even mention another man getting to see what belongs to me. I don’t want to hear anything like the mess you said earlier, ever come from your mouth again. Understood?” Y/n quickly agreed, nodding her head with a ‘yes sir’ wondering where things would go from here.

“Good, now that we’re on the same page I think it’s time to move onto the consequences you’ll be facing for your behavior. Turn around.”

The girl did what she was told, the sun now starting to set as she pressed her front into the side of the pool both of their bodies still submerged in the water. She was wondering what was to come, the thrill of being outdoors already surging through her and the anticipation of whats next was killing her.

“You were awfully rude to me, petal. Not happy with yeh, so I think you’re going to get your ass fucked.”

Y/n felt her eyes go wide, she’d talked to Harry before about acceptable punishments and what she wants to receive depending on what she did. during that conversation she’d mentioned anal, but that was reserved for if she was really bad. So she knew she must have really fucking pissed him off. The girl chose anal as a severe punishment because she couldn’t come from it, and it was always painful for her but since she had a major pain kink she put it on the table of options after trying it with an ex and discovering how the sensation was a punishing one for her body.

Her head turned to look behind her, Harry flicking his eyes from the top of her spine down to where the water distorted the image of her bum. “You made me very upset, love. Hurt m’ feelings, acted like a bitch. I deserve to get off, you don’t. Goin’ ta’ use that tight little hole to teach you a lesson, and as my own personal masturbation tool for the evening. If you’re a good girl and don’t complain, I might make you feel good in the morning.”

The objectification while very much offensive in a normal setting, was unbelievably hot in this sexual one. She knew that cruel of dirty talk wasn’t for everyone, but she loved it. She loved being treated like an object after she’d been bad. She enjoyed it when Harry would use her mouth like a masturbation toy while he watched porn, not even acknowledging her when she’d been a bad girl at other times. She loved when he’d humiliate her by having her hump her pillow in front of him, somehow able to control his body enough to stay soft while he watched her so the only thing she saw was his flaccid cock making her feel like a dirty girl who couldn’t get him up. It was all consensual and had been talked about. Of course she loved soft Harry too, the delicate slow way he’d lick her cunt, the loving thrusts and making love for hours on end. She loved every version of Harry in the bedroom, but right now she was getting dominant Harry and while she knew she was about to feel like she was being split in two by his cock ramming inside her ass, she was still going to love every surge of pain going through her lower half while he moaned filthy things into her ear. The fact she could get him to cum without herself getting pleasure was a strangely erotic thing for her.

Harry’s hands brought her back from her train of thought, his fingers making quick work of her bottoms letting them untie and float off somewhere in the pool whilst he turned his attention back to her body. His large palms groped at her ass, nails digging into the plump flesh as he pulled her cheeks apart every few gropes letting the cold pool water touch the opening, the sensation making her flinch slightly at first before she started getting used to the ripples of water touching a taboo place on her body.

She felt his chest press into her bare back, face tucking into her neck as he used his teeth to tug the ties of her bikini top undone, the fabric giving way to leave her completely bare in the water. She hopes to god there isn’t a group full of paps with night vision cameras up in trees or fucking hang gliding around the boat because she doesn’t think her mom would appreciate seeing her daughter in the tabloids getting railed by her boyfriend.

His damp hair tickled the bare skin of her shoulder, his lips resting on the shell of her ear while he spoke. “Don’t you dare scream, you know the safe word if yeh need to use it. Got it? No screaming, and don’t start the tears either. Be a big girl, not gonna go easy on ya’ this time princess.”

When she felt his tip start to push against her puckered hole she did everything she could to try and keep her body relaxed so it wouldn’t be nearly as much of a struggle. One of his arms wrapped around her waist to keep her still while his other hand was gripping the tip of his cock using his knuckles to keep her ass pried open a bit to put himself inside the impossibly tight hole just begging to be torn to shreds.

Her jaw clenched with her fists as he managed to ease the tip of his cock through her puckered star, her anal muscles clamping down almost painfully tight on his cock while he gripped her hips and shoved her back on him burying himself so far inside the girl he swears his tip was banging into another organ inside the girls belly. A deep groan ripped its way through Harry’s throat, the sensation was overwhelming and the power he held in his dominant role made every fiber of his being feel like it had been ignited.

He swears he could feel the blood running through his veins, hear his eyes blinking and was hyper aware of every limb and appendage he had, his cock being the part of himself that was screaming with stimulation as he massaged himself with the inner muscles of his girl. Y/n wanted to feel ashamed at how she was getting off on the pain, not feeling anywhere close to cumming or real sexual stimulation that was pleasurable, but a mental erotic feeling. The knowledge that Harry was using her body to get off, and punish her at the same time made her mentally so turned on she knew she was adding the natural slick pouring from her peach into the water, she hopes chlorine can mask the scent of pussy juice and semen or else she’ll feel a bit sorry for the pool boy who might be fishing out the spillage of Harry’s cum into the water the next morning.

“Jesus H Christ baby, your little ass is so fuckin’ tight feel like yeh might rip my cock off…fuckin’ hell I’m close. Gonna bust so deep inside you ,you’ll be seeing parts of me coming out of you for days. My slutty little girl likes to be stuffed full of my cum doesn’t she?” Y/n moaned simply at his words alone, responding with a pitiful ‘yes sir, I love you’ to his accusation. “Aw, I know you do. Like when I use yeh like a cum rag, like to feel m’ spunk leakin out of yeh. You’re such a disgusting little girl, aren’t yeh?”

Y/n let out a pained grunt mixed with a titillated moan, nodding furiously at her boyfriends words.

“Yes! Yes I’m a nasty girl, only for you. Fuck Harry, I’m yours.” She sounded pathetic, utterly pitiful and dirty. And they both fucking loved it. Harry could feel himself nearing completion, his stamina becoming weaker and his body begging to spurt his seed into the girl and with a few more harsh thrusts leaving a lingering burn to her bottom he filled her bowel with hot, sticky ribbons of his cum.

Every bit of semen held inside his contracting balls was being unloaded into her beautiful quivering body, her nipples hard as rocks between his toying fingers and her stomach slightly distended with the pressure of his prick inside her. The sight was filthy, almost offensively so. Something you see only on the dirtiest if porn sites, ones only the most depraved kinky bastards go to, Y/n was his own little hardcore porn star in this pool and he’d never felt more primally turned on in his life.

He slowly removed himself from her, certain that without the barrier of water the exit would have made a delicious ‘pop’ when the tip of his meat finally retreated from the hole. Y/n was now catching her breath, legs shaking under the water from the forced stretch of her lower muscles her body trying to regain it’s composure as her boyfriend pulled his swim trunks back over his genitals and turned her to face him pressing her naked body into his.

“Think I can trust yeh not to be so bad anymore?” His voice was no longer as gruff, he was slowly turning back into his normal self. Y/n gave him a tired nod, kissing his butterfly and hugging him tight.

“Well lets hope for your sake I can, but for my sake I wouldn’t mind getting to abuse your ass again if yeh chose to misbehave like that again.”

#harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles concept #harry styles blurb #blurb night #harry styles writing #harry styles dom #dom!harry #rough!harry

2K notes · View notes

voxmortuus · 3 years ago

Note

Hi there! I love your fics and you make really hot ones with smut too. I love Jamie as Paul Spector but I can’t find any hot stories with him. Would you be able to write one for me please? It would be a masturbation over skype story, with dirty talk and Paul stroking himself on camera. (Basically what he did with Katie but hotter). Hopefully that’s possible! Many thanks!

PAIRING: Paul Spector x F!Reader

UNIVERSE: The Fall

WORDS: 1K

SUMMARY/PROMPT: See above <3

TRIGGER WARNING(S): SMUT BELOW THE CUT! | Male & Female Masturbation | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this…

NOTE: Sorry if this isn't what you expected, I'm hoping this finds you well love! Link to the sex toy mentioned.

IMAGE CREDIT: Google I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF THESE IMAGES. If these are yours or you know who the creator(s) is please INBOX me and let me know. Thank you.

My Master Masterlist | Taglist

REQUESTS: 500 FOLLOWER EVENT REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN UNTIL AUGUST 15TH!

Online you could live any life you wanted to live, you could be anyone you wanted, but with Paul, you felt like you could be your true self. He understood you, and you understood him. Building this online relationship, you had grown attached to him. Given the time difference, you knew you were on his schedule. There was a five-hour difference between you and Paul. It was still somewhat light in Boston, MA, whereas in Belfast, it was completely dark.

Climbing into bed, you recall when you had met Paul. You remember finding him on a fetish website. You connected over so many interests. Paul clung to you, but you clung harder to the idea of Paul. On this website, he owned you, you were collared by Paul, and he was making plans to bring you to him.

The idea of Paul going through all this effort to bring you to him, so he can touch you, so he can do all of the things he talks to you about. Your mind races, you grow excited, anticipating his call. Opening your computer, you place it on your bed and climb under the covers. Clicking on his name, you shoot him a message.

Hello, Sir.

Hello, Kitten.

Incoming Call

Accepting the call, you wait for the video to come on. When it finally comes on, you let out a soft breath and give a sweet, pleasant smile.

"How was your day?" he asks.

"It was good. I'm all packed and ready to go. I get my passport in a couple of days. How was your day?" you return his question with a smirk.

"My day was alright. I've been thinkin' about you all day."

"What kind of things have you been thinking about?" you ask with a tilted head and bite your lip.

"Things that would make you leave with bruises and comin' back for more."

"Oh? Like?"

"I'd rather show you." He gives a sinister smirk.

"I'd rather you show me too."

"What are ya wearin?" He asks you.

You move the blanket and show that you're completely nude, just as he asked. "And you?"

He moves his blanket and shows that he's hard. You bite your lip, and your hand grips your breast while your finger plays with your nipple.

"I would love to place my lips around that hard cock, Sir." You say softly.

"I can't wait to feel that, Kitten." He smirks.

He moves his hand to his cock, moving the computer so you can see.

"I want you to play with yourself. I want to see you playing with yourself. You have the toy I bought you?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good girl. You will use that when I tell you. Just imagine your fingers are my fingers."

"Yes, Sir."

Your hand slides down your body to your swollen needy clit. You let out a soft breath as you begin to play with yourself. Watching him stroke himself, watching his hands, his chest, the facial expressions. You bite your lip as you pick up the pace a bit, matching him, letting off a soft moan.

You close your eyes a moment biting your lip harder as you insert your fingers into your wet cunt. Your body shakes, and your muscles clench around your finger as you move them in and out a bit, bringing them back up to rub your clit. You open your eyes back up and watch him.

The way he strokes himself, how hard he is, it makes your mouth water. Your breath begins to pick up, your chest rises and falls, you grip your breast with your free hand as you start to moan again a little louder. Your fingers work a little more as you listen to his breathing.

"How wet are you, Kitten?" He asks you.

"So wet, Sir. So wet, my pussy is throbbing, dripping almost." You moan softly. "Your fingers feel so good, Sir."

"Want to feel my cock, baby?"

"Yes, Sir." You almost whine.

"Grab the toy, and start slow." He demands.

Grabbing your toy all ready to go, you moan softly, inserting it moving it with ease from your well-lubricated cunt.

"Good girl. Match my pace. Think of me. Wrap your belt around your throat, pull tighter when I pick up the pace. Focus on me."

"Yes, Sir." You state with an excited tone to your voice as you match his pace.

Watching him, you match his pace. The way he stroked himself was the same way you pushed that toy in and out, the way your thumb brushed against your clit. You moan softly, watching as he picked up the pace, you pull the belt tighter around your throat tightened.

Feeling this rush run through you, his pace picks up, and your belt tightens around your throat, and your pace picks up, matching his. Hearing him groan gives you goosebumps.

"Good girl, Kitten. Faster. Faster for Sir. Grip harder. Come on, baby. Make Daddy Cum, baby." He encourages you.

On your own, you go faster, harder, thrusting the toy into your wet pussy harder, your grip on your neck gets as tight as you can without passing out. You whimper, moan, and your moans turn to screams of pleasure, calling out his name, your nipples are hard, your flesh is sensitive, your clit swollen, needing, pulsating. You rub it slightly with your hand, you thrust the toy into you.

His hand works faster, hearing him moan louder you hear him telling you to cum. Your body shakes and shivers, and you scream, squirting past the toy out the sides, you feel the toy release inside you, and you pull the toy from you, and your orgasm was so intense your sheets are drenched. Hearing him finish with you, you bite your lip and look over at him and smile, giggling.

"Good girl. Change your sheets. I will call you in the morning. I will see you soon, Kitten." He smiles.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Good night, Kitten."

"Good night, Sir." You smile and close the laptop when he hangs up.

You pull the belt from your neck and look at the mess, and chuckle. Shaking your head, you change your sheets and clean yourself up and hop in bed, pulling your pillow close to you. Your body still shaking, and your pussy throbbing. With the pillow slightly between your legs, you feel it pressed against your pussy. "I love you, Sir."

66 notes · View notes

babbushka · 3 years ago

Note

please can i have 9 from the nsfw prompts with pale please;)

2.2k, NSFW (rough sex at the dinner table, naked woman clothed man spanking, PIV, fingering, dirty talk)

The first time you sigh, Pale doesn’t think anything of it. You sighed sometimes, for lots of different reasons. Not everything had to fuckin’ mean something. It was a lovely evening, Pale was home early from work, you had the day off so he gave you some money so you could pamper yourself from head to toe, he cooked up a big delicious dinner -- if he says so himself, which he does -- and he even turned on the stereo set to play some soft music while you both ate.

The second time you sigh, Pale debates bringing it up. But then he figures nah, you’re the type of woman that says what’s on her mind. You don’t dilly dally around your opinions like some of these other broads do, trying to get their men to guess at what’s botherin’ them. No, that isn’t your style, not usually anyway.

“Alright,” He levels you a look, setting his fork down on the third time that you sigh, eventually giving into the bait and asking, “What’s the fuckin’ matter with you?”

Your eyes widen at the sharpness of his voice, and it’s then that Pale realizes maybe you didn’t know you were makin’ all them huffing puffing sounds as you pushed your dinner around your plate.

“Nothin’!” You frown, shruggin’ with one of your shoulders in that way of yours that meant something was definitely wrong. “Nothin’s the matter. It’s just...”

“Just what, c’mon, spit it out sweetheart you know I can handle it whatever it is.” Pale steels himself for something disastrous, holds his breath.

“You didn’t fuck me this morning.” You announce, sounding halfway between sad and annoyed, and if Pale had been chewing anything, he’d be choking.

“What?” He stares at you with a frown, and you shrug again, waving your hand around, sounding too much like your feelings are hurt when you explain;

“This morning. You left, without wakin’ me up, you know. Without givin’ me a good morning.”

Pale wracks his brain, because that didn’t sound right. That didn’t sound like Pale, not fuckin’ you or at the very least makin’ out with your cunt before he had to go to work. But then, oh right, he remembers that he had to leave too early, and wanted to be sweet to you for once, wanted to let you get your rest. Especially because,

“The last time I woke you up on your day off, you threatened to scratch my eyes out with your nails.” He reminds you, pointing the fork in your direction, belatedly noticing, “Which look real good by the way, I like that color.”

“Thank you I got them done before lunch, I thought I’d try somethin’ new out.” You brighten up for a moment, holding your hand out properly for him to take a good look at, before sighing again, “But you didn’t fuck me, and I’ve been thinkin’ about it all day.”

Raising your brows at him from across the table, he catches the desperation in your voice. That was the edge he had heard: you were hungry, but not for dinner.

“Oh, I see.” He pushes himself back from the table then, real slow-like.

It’s an invitation, one that you take immediately. Standing up from your chair, your hand trails along the table-cloth as you round the corner and settle yourself between his spread legs. From here, Pale can appreciate the tight, short dress you’ve got on, the gold chain around your throat, the diamonds in your ears. You look like a million’ fuckin’ bucks, and he’s hard in his pleated trousers because you’re all his.

“Do you?” You whisper, your voice gone all sultry as you bite at your lip. “Do you really? Because it’s real mean to make a girl wait all day long, especially when she looks like this.”

Tantalizingly slowly, you reach behind yourself and grasp at the little zipper that holds your dress up, tugging it down down down, the dress loosenin’ around your body and fallin’ to the floor as it goes.

“Are you asking me to fuck you stupid right here?” Pale’s gaze immediately goes to your breasts, his hands rushin’ up to give them a firm squeeze, thumbs rubbin’ circles over your nipples as they stiffen against the cool night air, “Is that it?”

“I’m not askin’.” Your eyes glint.

With one quick movement, Pale’s surging up to kiss you, hot and heavy right on your mouth, messing up your pretty lipstick, smudging and smearing it all around. And then as quickly as he’s there, he’s pulling away, turning you around and bending you over the table at a nice clean spot that doesn’t have any dishes, kickin’ your feet apart.

He doesn’t waste time shoving one of his hands between your legs, because of course you ain’t wearin’ any panties, of course not -- why would you when it’s just the two of you here in his apartment?

“Christ look at how wet you are baby, been wet for me all fuckin’ day huh? Did you touch yourself and think of me? Think of how I can do it so much better for you?” He drapes his body over you, relishes in the way your ass is already pressing against the hard line of his cock in his trousers.

Pushing his pointer and middle finger all the way up into your pussy, it’s all you can do to gasp out a moan and clutch at the tablecloth. He wishes he could watch the way his fingers disappear into you, but he’s glued to your back and biting sucking licking at your exposed shoulder, drinking in the sound of your moans and that’s good enough for now.

“Yes!” You push your hips back back back against his hand, grinding down as they crook and curl up inside you, searching for that special spot that has stars dancing behind your eyelids, “Fuck I love your fingers, you make me feel so good Pale.”

“My little slut can’t go one day without somethin’ up her cunt, ain’t that right. I’m sorry sweetheart, I shoulda known better, shoulda given you somethin’ to hold you over ‘til I came back. But I’m here now, I’ll take care of this pussy just the way you need.” With his other hand, Pale fumbles around with his belt buckle, wrenching it open so that he can yank down his zipper and fish out his cock.

“Please! It’s no fun comin’ when you ain’t here.” You moan as he slips in his ring finger too, the stretch of all three making your knees turn in, your thighs shake.

“That’s what I like to hear baby, spread your fuckin’ legs for me.” Pale grunts, and you do as he says, knowing you’ll get the best fucking of your life for it -- because that’s what every time you have sex with Pale feels like.

Barely the tip is in before you’re already having to take deep breaths, having to steady yourself and open up your hips, because of how fucking huge his cock is. You’d been together for damn near two years, and it still always came as a surprise. He rubs the head of his cock through your soaked folds, and even though he fingered you open, it’s still an effort to thrust himself in, his cock so big that if you didn’t know you could take it, you might panic.

“Shit you’re tight, damn, relax for me, one day without my dick ain’t an eternity, your pussy remembers, just relax.” He’s right there, draped over your back again, his mouth right on your ear as he coaxes you and soothes you, and he’s right, even though it doesn’t feel like it.

“It feels like an eternity! Oh fuck, yes Pale, keep goin’ please, please I want more.” You moan when your body listens, when you let your hips widen, your legs spreading even further, thighs already shaking and toes already curling as he manages to push in deep deep deep -- bottoming out with only a few more thrusts.

And then, once it’s in, Pale’s pulling out -- thrusting back into you so hard that the sound of your moan is swallowed by the scrape of the table against the floor, as he builds up a brutal rhythm that has you holding on for dear life, your mouth dropped open from pleasure.

“Got you trained for my cock don’t I? Ruined you for everythin’ else, just my girl. Goddamn you’re beautiful. You know I don’t get to see your back all that fuckin’ often?” With his fingers pulled out of your pussy, Pale keeps one hand on your hip to steady you, and slaps your ass hard with the other one, the sound of sweaty skin smacking together going straight to his cock.

“Yeah ‘cause I’m always layin’ on it.” You laugh brightly, the tail end of it dissolving into a throaty moan that has Pale sweating in his fuckin’ dress shirt, has him biting down against your shoulder, marking you up.

“When’s the last time I told you you’re perfect?” He grunts as he thrusts into you hard hard hard, fast and steady, his cock pulling out and then slamming right back in, slapping your ass again so hard that you’re keening, that you’re shouting out his name.

“Pale! Tell me again anyway -- oh! Oh right there, fuck, oh my god!” Your shoulders jolt and shiver, because he’s found the spot his fingers had missed, and he’s got to press you back down onto the table when you try and snap up from the surprise of it.

“That’s it baby feel how deep I am inside of you, I’ll treat you right, make you come so hard.” Pale pets back your hair as he grinds his cock into your pussy, his dick hard and throbbing inside the tight clutch of your velvety walls.

You’re getting fucked so hard that your feet are barely on the floor anymore, legs kicking up from the sheer overwhelming sensation of being so full.

“Yes!” You moan, clenching and squeezing around him, wanting to give as good as you get, “Yesyesyes, more Pale, harder I can take it.”

“That’s fuckin’ right you can, my best girl, fuck, fuck you’re so good on my cock, I could live here, right inside this pretty pussy that’s all for me, feelin’ you come again and again. You want that? Want to be my little cockwarmin’ slut forever?” He grunts, punctuating his sentences with slaps to your ass, licking up your cheeks where tears have spilled over, your chest heaving against the table, begging for more.

“Yes!” You keep pushing back against him, chasing the feeling, hot pleasure coiling up inside your stomach, rising on the edge of tipping over, you’re so close, just a little more, that’s all you’ll need -- and Pale knows it.

“Gonna come all over me?” He asks, but it’s more of a plea, and he kisses at your throat as he fucks you through your tears.

“Y-yes!” Your body is pinching up then, and you’re hiccuping around a moan, and your pussy throbs and pulses around him as you shout, “Oh fuckfuckfuck -- !”

“Attagirl.” Pale doesn’t let up even as you come, even as the slick drips down your thighs, soaks into his trousers. The hand that’s resting on your hip reaches around and toys with your swollen clit, making you whine out his name, “That’s okay baby keep sayin’ my name, let the neighbors know who’s treatin’ you right.”

“Pale...! Pale oh -- oh I’m --!” You shudder again, whole body goin’ through it, as pleasure crashes through you hard, hard enough to pull Pale over the edge too, and he presses you against the table a little more forcefully under the weight of his own body going limp on top of you.

After a moment, when you’ve both had the chance to catch your breath, he blindly reaches behind him until his hand manages to grasp his chair, and then he’s sitting back down onto it, taking you with him.

You look like a fucking mess, completely glassy-eyed and smiling like the cat that got the damn cream, and Pale doesn’t want you anywhere or anyway else all night, saying as much, “You better just sit here for the rest of the night.”

“Oh yeah?” You giggle, love drunk in the best way, your bones like jello.

“Yeah, it’s safer here.” He kisses your cheek, wishes he had a cigarette to light up. He could go get one from his jacket pocket, but then he’d have to get up, and there’s no fucking way he’s doing that.

“Okay. But my dinner’s over there.” You protest, settling firmly on his cock that’s still hard, still pumping you full of his load.

“Yeah well, shoulda fuckin’ thought about that before you decided to go and be a brat.” Pale sighs, making you lightly swat at his chest. “Alright alright alright, you can have some of mine.”

Brightening up at that, you reach for his fork that had gotten all jostled in the meanwhile, and reach out to pluck something off his plate, being nice enough to let him have the first bite, before eating the rest.

“And then when we’re done eatin’, I’ll fuck you again. Ya know, for good measure.” Pale licks across his teeth, making you grin, because as far as you’re concerned, he’s got a whole day to make up for.

-----------------------------------

Tagging some Pale loving friends!

#adam driver fanfic #adcu #pale burn this #burn this broadway #adam driver burn this #pale smut #pale imagine #jimmy pale #my writing

135 notes · View notes

pretendingboyfriends · 4 years ago

Text

Adieu

it’s finally done!!! this is my piece for @berrynarrybanana‘s sex bucketlist fic challenge!! i hope you enjoy!!

Prompts: Sex Tape & Face Sitting

Warnings: smut & language

Word count: 4.2k+

Summary: Harry is leaving for tour and asks you for a special parting gift.

The noise of the TV and the occasional movement from the two of you is the only thing that can be heard throughout the house. You and Harry are comfortably cuddled up together on the couch, you’re sitting between his legs with your back pressed against his front, mindlessly gazing at the TV as the movie of your choice plays.

The discussion hasn’t fully been brought up yet, but both of you know it’s coming. Harry’s leaving for tour in the coming weeks and you’re not able to join him due to high demand at your workplace. Harry knows this and you’ve discussed it, but you haven’t discussed what is going to happen in the sexual realm of your relationship.

“Y’wanna head off to bed after this?” Harry mumbles into your neck, squeezing his arms around your waist for a moment to catch your full attention.

You hum in response, leaning your head to the side slightly to give him more access to the skin of your neck. He presses a few more lazy kisses to your skin before relaxing back against the couch.

“Think we should talk about the tour situation,” You sigh, dropping your head back against his shoulder.

“Mm, yeah,” He agrees, smacking a kiss to your temple. “Been thinkin’ about some things.”

You quirk an eyebrow up and turn your head to the side to look at him properly, “What’s that?”

He gives you a mischievous smirk and swiftly flips you onto your back against the couch cushions as you squeal. He moves between your legs to hover over you, the movie long forgotten in the background as he smacks his lips across your face.

“Been thinkin-” he presses a short kiss to your lips, “-M’gonna need somethin’ to remember yeh by while I’m away.”

You lazily drape an arm around his neck, giggling through his kisses and humming at his words. “Y’want me to take some pictures for you?”

“Mm, wouldn’t mind that, but I was thinkin’ something a little different.” He mumbles into the column of your throat, hands sliding down to grip your hips.

“Like what?”

He nips at your jaw, sliding one arm underneath your torso to pull you against him more. “Thinkin’ maybe makin’ a little movie,”

Your eyebrows raise and you place your hands on the sides of his face to pull him above you and properly look at him, “Are you serious?”

He nods, dimples popping as he chews his bottom lip and gazes down at you. You chortle nervously, running your hands over your face as you shake your head mindlessly.

“I’ll think about it.” You mumble through a yawn, lifting your head up to peck his lips one more time before rolling out from beneath him and standing.

“Does that mean yes?” He stands behind you as you flip the TV off and wraps an arm around you, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

“It means I’ll think about it.” You giggle, patting his cheek with your palm before prying yourself away from him and heading to the bedroom. He’s almost like a puppy as he follows behind you, whining quietly at your lack of response to his suggestion and clinging himself to you.

You weren’t necessarily opposed to his suggestion at all, but you were hesitant to immediately agree to it considering the chances you would be taking. Privacy was a vital part of your relationship and something as intimate as that being leaked to the public disquieted you immensely.

The topic isn’t brought up again until a few days later when the two of you are getting ready for a shower. You’re already stepping into the shower and he’s tugging his socks off, whining about how sore he is from his run. He finally steps in after you, his front facing your back as you allow the steaming water to pelt your face.

“So,” He starts, stepping around to your front to let the water run over him for a moment, “Have you thought about it yet?”

“Thought about what?” You feign oblivion, squirting a decent amount of shampoo into your palm before lathering it into your hair. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head at you, pushing his sopping hair away from his face and you smirk to yourself, moving back under the water to rinse the suds from your hair. You let it get quiet for a moment and then you speak again, “Yes, I have.”

He whips his head back to you with a hopeful smile, “And?”

“And… I’ll do it.”

He virtually leaps with joy, wrapping both arms around your bare waist and pulling you in for a kiss. “Ugh, I love you so much.”

You giggle at his reaction, shaking your head as you squirm in his hold. “Only under one condition, though.”

“What’s that?” He hums, smacking kisses all over your face.

“Y’have to take me out to a nice dinner.”

He quirks an eyebrow up, “That’s it?”

You nod with a quiet hum and he smiles wider, giggling like an exuberant child. You snicker at him, reaching beside him for the conditioner bottle.

For the rest of your shower, Harry giddily prances around you, pressing kisses to your lips, neck, and cheeks in every moment that he can. It’s laughable how excited he is, but you aren’t going to lie to yourself and say that you aren’t just as excited as him. You’re always up for something new in the bedroom and now that he’s leaving for tour, you both will have something to remember for months.

“When were you thinking about that dinner?” He asked with a mouthful of toothpaste as the two of you stood at the sink.

You shrugged, spitting the foamy substance into the bowl and flipping the faucet on. “Next Friday?”

“I’ll have a word with Jeff and make sure I’m completely free, but I think that’ll be alright.” He responds, leaning over the sink and spitting into it after you.

“Sounds good.” You smile at him as you rinse your toothbrush and toss it back into the cup on the counter before turning to him with your lips puckered, “Kissy?’

He chuckles and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you against him and pressing his lips to yours for a few seconds. You drape your own arm over his shoulders, humming into the kiss and languidly moving your lips against his. He chuckles, maneuvering you to press you against the counter as he drops his toothbrush into the cup and turns the faucet off so that he can wrap both of his arms around you.

“Mm-” He grunts, pulling away for a moment to smirk at you, “Minty.”

You snort, dropping your head down to rest on his shoulder with a chuckle before wiggling out of his grasp and sauntering into the bedroom. He trails behind you, flopping onto the bed on his back and watching you move around the room as you prepare yourself for bed. “Can’t fuckin’ wait for Friday.” He groans, rolling onto his stomach and keeping his eyes trained on you. You giggle and glance back at him, catching his eye wandering south. You step towards the bed and swat at him as you scold him playfully and he snickers. “What? Can’t a bloke have a gander at his lady?”

You shake your head at him,“‘Your lady’ is not in the mood to be objectified.”

He sighs, “You’re right, I’m sorry, my love. Come to bed and I’ll make it up to you,”

You roll your eyes and crawl onto the bed with him, “No funny business,” You wag your finger at him and he pouts, knowing the two of you had decided not to do anything other than kiss until Friday to make the night even more special.

As much as you don’t want to admit it, you’re beginning to dread Harry’s departure. Moments like these are the ones that will keep you up at night missing him and you’re not sure if you can handle being so far away from your sweet, sweet lover for so long. Your relationship has gone swimmingly well for the most part and you’d hate to have something like this break you apart in any way. But Harry would never let that happen. He’s promised to come back and visit a few times during the few breaks they have during the tour and that seems to have eased your worries a little bit for the time being.

Harry, of course, feels the same. He doesn’t want to leave you for so long, but he loves his job and loves the touring no matter how exhausting and mentally draining it can be. Neither of you wants to talk about it, though, you’d rather bask in the present than dwell on the future.

The two of you spend the entire rest of the week in a flirty banter about what’s to come on Friday, making suggestive comments and puns to each other. You want it to be a special moment for both of you, so you make him swear not to lay a hand on you in any sexual way until Friday, as frustrating is it is for him.

Finally, it’s Friday and the two of you are preparing yourselves for the date. You’re standing in front of the large mirror over the bathroom sink, doing the last bit of your makeup in Harry's “My Life is Crap” sweater that you had nabbed from the closet after your shower. Harry is in the shower himself, humming along with the music piercing through the small speaker on the counter beside you.

Nerves are bubbling in the pit of your stomach from just the thought of what’s to come. You bought a special outfit for later, planning to reveal it to him before the night’s events begin to unfold.

You step back from the mirror to examine your makeup and make sure nothing is out of place before stepping out of the bathroom and into the walk-in closet connected to the bedroom. You find the shopping bag with your new lingerie set in it and quickly toss Harry’s sweater from your body and onto the floor. You slip the thin material bra on first then you slip the matching panties on afterwards. You stand in front of the floor-length mirror, checking yourself out before you find your dress for the night. You choose a velvet long-sleeved body-con dress that displays your cleavage tastefully and a pair of snakeskin heels along with a pair of earrings and a few rings on your fingers.

Harry finally exits the shower, sauntering out into the bedroom with a towel lying limp on his hips. He smiles when he sees you, walking towards you and pulling you against him.

“You look very pretty,” He hums as he leans in to kiss you and you chortle, holding his face between your hands as you kiss him.

“Thank you, baby.” You reply, pecking his lips a few times in between, “Now, go get ready or we’re gonna be late.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He complies, spinning around to skip into the closet.

Once you’re at the restaurant, you’re seated at a small booth in the corner that Harry had set up specifically for the two of you. Both of you order something simple, forgoing the appetizers and ordering a singular bottle of wine for you to share.

You finish your meals fairly quickly, the casual conversation taking up most of the time in the restaurant. The two of you basking in each other’s company before the impending desire to rip the other’s clothes off becomes too great and Harry picks up the check.

The drive back from the restaurant is excruciatingly tense. It feels like Harry’s palm is burning through the skin of your thigh as he drives. You slip your own hand beneath his palm, guiding your fingers between his to somehow calm your nerves, the warmth of his large hand encasing yours comfortingly. He glances over at you for a moment before turning back to the road without a word. The silence is comfortable, but the hint of tension hovering over the two of you makes it feel much more intense.

Harry finally pulls into your driveway, parking the car and shutting off the ignition. You sat in silence for a moment, just staring at each other before he smiled softly and exited the car, walking around to your side to usher you out of your seat unscathed.

As soon as the front door is swung open, Harry has an arm wrapped around your waist, pressing you against his chest and pushing you against the wall as his lips hover over yours. His hot breath fans over your skin and your eyelids begin to feel heavy.

You’re waiting for him to kiss you; lean forward and capture your supple skin between his own, but he waits. He waits until you’re nearly writhing beneath him, hands tugging at his curls gently before he presses a kiss to your pouted lip. As soon as his skin comes in contact with your own, you’re pulling him impossibly closer. Both your arms are wrapped around his neck, one hand tucked into his hair while the other grips the fabric of his expensive jacket. His right hand gathers a handful of your ass, pressing your pelvis against his own so that you can feel him properly.

Small whimpers and grunts slip from the back of your throat, spurring him on further as his lips part from yours only to travel down the expanse of your neck. Your heart is pounding in your chest as he pulls the shoulder of your dress down slightly, revealing the silk strap of your new garment.

He looks up at you with a smirk, “Got me a present.”

It isn’t a question.

Eventually, after stumbling through the dark hallways of your home, you make it to your bedroom. Harry moves to sit on the edge of the bed as he takes his jacket off and begins to unbutton his shirt, watching you. You had already set up the camera in the corner, pointed directly at the bed and all you need to do is press record.

You slowly walk around the bed, making sure the camera is focused properly before pressing record and walking back over to Harry. His shirt is completely unbuttoned but still rests on his shoulders when you stand in front of him. He pulls you to stand between his legs, fingers hiking your skirt up around your thighs. Your hands are resting on his broad shoulders as you stare down at him.

“D’ya think I could take this pretty dress off and see what you’ve got for me underneath?” He asks softly, his hand gently caressing the back of your thigh.

You nod in response, fingers grasping his shirt tighter as his hand travels further beneath your dress. He bunches the fabric up around your waist, exposing the sheer pink panties resting on your hips. He leans forward, pressing his lips to your hip, maintaining eye contact with you as he continues to press kisses along the waistband of your panties. Your hands are tangled into his curls as goosebumps erupt across your skin from the warmth of his lips. He starts pushing your dress up your body more and more until it’s completely removed and discarded onto the floor behind you. He leans back slightly to look at you with his bottom lip wedged between his teeth, eyes blown with lust.

“Like it?” You whisper as you watch his expression.

He swiftly wraps an arm around your waist and yanks you into his lap. “I love it.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning down to press your lips against his. Harry’s hands slides down to grip your ass, pushing you to grind against him slowly as your lips move together.

“Y’look so sexy, baby,” He murmurs into your lips, your hips grinding against him harder and faster. “M’gonna miss you so much.”

“I’m gonna miss you too.” You whimper as his lips move along your jaw slowly. He removes his shirt quickly and starts to lean back on the bed slowly, taking you with him. You press your hands against the mattress on either side of his head once he moves further up the bed, your hips continuing to grind against his over and over.

“Sit on my face,” He whispers, up at you, “Wanna taste you.”

You nearly melt at his words, the sheer fabric of your panties surely soaked through by now. You nod and he pulls you up his body so that you’re sitting on his bare chest, thighs resting on either side of his head. He stares up at you, gently caressing your thighs before his fingers creep up to the waistband of your panties. They’re quickly removed from your hips and slid down your legs as you lift them above his head and he tosses them aside. You move forward, kneeling over his face, breathing heavily.

Just looking down at him makes your legs feel like jello and you breathe out heavily as he guides you to his mouth. Your fingers braid through his curls as soon as his warm mouth comes in contact with your cunt, his eyes squeezed shut as he devours you. His fingers grip the skin of your thighs harshly, sucking your clit between his lips and staring up at you with dark eyes. Even in the dim lighting of the bedroom, you can clearly make out his face--or what you can see of it.

You throw your head back when he begins to suck your clit harshly and growl into you, the vibrations coming from the back of his throat causing you to moan louder and squeeze your thighs against his head. His tongue slips out from between his lips and he flicks it along your supple skin one, two, three times.

“Fuck, H, you’re so good at that. Please, don’t stop.” You breathe, grinding your hips down onto his tongue. He moves his tongue faster, humming into you lowly at your words. You can already feel your first orgasm bubbling in the pit of your stomach and your hips begin to move frantically against his tongue as you chase your release.

The only things that can be heard throughout the bedroom are your quiet whimpers and moans and the wet smacking of his lips and tongue colliding with your wet skin. Your moans start to get more repetitive with every passing moment, your hips writhing against his mouth faster.

“I’m gonna cum,” You gasp, tugging the soft tendrils of hair clutched between your fingers and leaning forward, your other hand gripping the headboard tightly. Your thighs begin to quake uncontrollably around his head and he presses his face into you harder, coaxing you into a powerful orgasm that has you screaming his name.

He continues to lap at your cunt as you come down, finally stopping when you weakly tug his face away from you. You’re both panting heavily when you make eye contact with each other and he smirks, licking his moist, glistening lips before pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, mumbling “So fuckin’ good.” into your skin.

After a moment of catching your breath, you finally slide off of where you perched on his chest and toss yourself onto the mattress beside him. Harry is quick to climb between your legs, kissing you feverishly as he grinds his bulge into you. You whimper, partially from the sensitivity between your legs and partially because you need him inside of you.

He’s still wearing his trousers as he rests between your legs and you huff in frustration, tugging at the belt loops on his slacks. He smirks and reaches down to aid you in unbuttoning them, sitting up to shove them down his legs, allowing them to slide off the edge of the bed. His socks are the next item of clothing to go, his nimble fingers quickly pulling them off and dropping them where his trousers lie limp on the carpeted floor.

Once his briefs are removed, he turns to you, stroking himself slowly. You reach behind your back and unclasp your flimsy bra, tossing it behind him before he grasps you by the ankles and yanks you towards him roughly. You squeal at his sudden roughness and he cracks a smile, chuckling at your expression before leaning down and melding his lips with yours.

He takes a moment to kiss you, slowly moving his mouth with yours and swiping his tongue across your bottom lip. You start to melt into him, looping your arms around his shoulders as he presses himself against you and then he pulls away, swiftly lifting you up from the mattress and flipping you onto your stomach.

You gasp quietly as he presses your face into the mattress, sliding his hands up to grasp your waist and press himself against you.

“Harry, please-” You whimper, gripping the soft duvet tightly between your fingers.

He hums, gliding his tip along your glistening folds a few times before he places himself at your entrance.

“Ready?” He asks and you quickly respond with a breathy ‘yes’.

That’s all he needs before he pushes into you slowly at first and then thrusts his hips forward at the last few inches. You moan softly, pushing your hips back against his as he begins to set a steady pace. His grip on your hips is nearly bruising but all you can think about is the way he’s thrusting against that perfect spot within you. The sound of his hips slapping against yours over and over again spurs him on more and more and he grunts with every thrust, pushing you further into the mattress.

“Y’feel so fucking good,” He groans, one hand sliding down from your hip to smack your ass. You yelp, your skin burning from the force of his large palm against your skin, the chilling bite of his metal rings adding to the pain. He thrusts into you harder, leaning forward and grabbing both of your wrists in one of his hands and pressing them into the mattress above your head as he pounds you. Your moans are muffled by the fabric of the duvet, but your volume continues to increase every time he pounds you harder or faster.

“So deep,” You sputter through a loud moan, arching your back to push against him again.

He leans down, growling into your ear as he nibbles at it gently. His sweaty, bare chest is pressed against your back as he thrusts against your g-spot over and over again, causing tears to brim in your eyes from the intensity. You’re pulsing around him, wet and warm, bringing him closer to the edge with every push of his hips.

“Can feel you squeezing me, baby.” He mutters, “Y’gonna cum, huh?”

You nod weakly, small whimpers leaving your lips with every sloppy thrust. You feel him reach down, between your legs, the rough pads of his middle and ring finger swiftly brushing against your clit to help coax you over the edge.

You call out loudly when your second orgasm of the night washes over you, Harry’s fingers unwavering from their circular motion on your clit as you collapse beneath him.

“Shit,” He grunts, his hips stilling against yours as ropes of his warm cum fill you. His grip on your wrists weakens and he buries his face into your neck, lazily kissing the sweaty skin. You pant and whimper beneath him, feeling his cum start to seep from inside of you, oozing down your thighs slowly.

The two of you lie there for a moment, catching your breath, his lips trailing along your bare neck and shoulder before he pushes himself up and rolls onto his back beside you. You push yourself onto your back as well, breathing out a long sigh as you watch him sit up and slide off the bed to grab something to clean up.

He returns with a warm, damp washcloth, gently coaxing you to spread both your legs so that he can collect the perspiration and arousal from the inside of your thighs. You thank him quietly, peering up at him from beneath your arm that’s draped over your eyes. He smiles at you, leaning down to press a kiss to your knee and you smile back, reaching forward and brushing a few curls away from his sweaty forehead.

“I love you,” He hums, climbing back onto the bed between your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly and burying his face into your neck.

“I love you, too.” You sigh, wrapping your legs around his bare waist and relaxing into him.

“Fuck-” he chortles, “is the camera still recording?”

“I think so,” You giggle and he gruntingly pushes himself off the bed to shut the camera off.

He smirks at you, “Gonna bloody enjoy watchin’ that later,”

You roll your eyes at him with a light scoff, but you know you’ll enjoy it just as much as he will.

“I just hope the band doesn’t get their hands on it…” He finishes quietly.

You sit up quickly, frowning at him. “Don’t even joke about that, Styles.”

He cackles, scooping you back into his arms. “Don’t fret, darling, I’ll keep it very safe and hidden.”

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