#yes yes the countryside is gorgeous

[bronzewool]

GF: Behold! This is my home town in Wales!!!!

Me: OMG....

Me: The fuel is so cheap here :D

GF: Is that all you have to say -_-;

Me: Cheap.

[lazyjellyfish300]

12 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 ~ 𝑫𝒂𝒚 𝑻𝒘𝒐

Synopsis: It's the classic Hallmark tale: what happens when you, a business woman from the city, arrives at the family owned O'Hara Christmas Tree farm your greedy boss wants to demolish, and finds much more than you bargained for that fateful night you get snowed in?

CW: x FEM!READER, SMUT(unprotected p in v ,oral (f receiving), creampie, breast play, touch of mirror kink) enemies to lovers ish, DUBCON?(You're both a bit drunk), alcohol, touch of angst, mention of pregnancy

Words: 4.4k

A/N: a little late, mb but I hope it's worth it!😩 I'm on vacation rn but I'm dedicated to making this happen even if I'm a lil behind lolol

Dividers: @/saradika-graphics

12 Days of Smutmas Masterlist 🎄🎁

You certainly weren't in Kansas anymore. Or so the saying went. This time you found yourself somewhere in the Catskills outside of Nueva York. Your high heels crunched on the gravel as you stepped out of your Uber, taking in the grand Christmas tree farm in front of you. 

"O'Hara Ranch" was welded in iron lettering on a black sign above the entrance. You whistled as you took in the expansive acres of balsam fir trees, dusted in a thin layer of snow straight out of a painting. 

It was no wonder your boss was so dead set on this place. You became keenly aware of the biting chill of the countryside as you huddled your arms closer around you, your pink blazer doing little to keep you warm as you started to quake in your Jimmy Choos with your laptop case and singular carry-on in tow.

---- 

Miguel grunted, scratching his lower back as his large, sturdy boots squeaked a little on his kitchen floor, eyes almost as dark as the warm beverage in his mug, looking out in silent disapproval at the black Escalade that pulled up, dropping off what he was certain was another employee from that pesky developer.

Some poor soul who had to be the shot messenger for a CEO who never strayed out of the wealthy privileged fairytale land they lived in, thinking that multiple commas would be enough to get him to sign his life away. 

When would they ever learn? He thought. He puts down his mug on the counter then strides over to the door, placing one of his hats on his head before he goes outside to greet this new imposter. 

---

You shuddered as you reached inside your pocket, taking out the flimsy scrap of paper that contained the phone number for the ranch and dialing it again, hoping to reach this Miguel, or whoever it was you were supposed to meet. 

"C'mon..." 

You shouldn't be surprised if he didn't pick up again. It was no secret that you were the bad guy in this situation straight out of a Hallmark film. 

Corporate business lady visiting a Christmas Tree farm that's been in the same family for decades, beloved by all the locals, who forced them to sign over their American dream to a greedy land developer and demolish it to the ground for a lavish mountain resort, and 2 weeks before Christmas no less. 

Just as the call goes to voicemail, a four wheeler's engine interrupts your train of thought. Just like out of a movie, you take notice of the very tall, dark haired, very handsome rider who sat astride it.

His long sleeved grey shirt did nothing but accentuate his rippling arm muscles, layered underneath a Carhartt vest, complete with a baseball cap and salt and pepper five o clock shadow on his sharp, steely jaw. His lips were plump and relaxed into a subtle frown, complete with thick brows and dark wavy hair that complimented the pair of rich brown eyes he possessed that compared to the slice of Earth he owned. 

"Miss...?" He asks your name with an equally deep beautiful voice to match in slightly bored formality. You could tell it was painful for him to be polite to you like this, if you were the corporate imposter like he thought you were.  

"Yes, hi! You're...M-Miguel, right?" 

His expression remains unmoved. "That would be me." 

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Gorgeous property by the way! Really, it's much much better in person than the pictures-" 

"Right." He replies stiffly. "There's really no need to be so gracious.  I figure you're here for one thing and one thing only." 

"Uh-" you reply, a little thrown off by what he means. 

"And the answer is no. I understand you've got a job to do, but I've told your boss over and over again: no. Five years ago, it was a no. Last month, also no. Come back in a week, my answer will still be no. Thank you." 

He revs the engine, getting ready to speed away. 

"Wait! I really do need you to sign this! From the mayor?" You waved a pink colored document which caught his attention for once. 

Miguel turned off the engine, hopping off the four wheeler and strode towards you. He shoots you a superstitious glance before his eyes flicker to the paper, slowly becoming more enraged as he scanned along the fine print:

 Notice of Eminent Domain. 

That bastard. There was a reason Miguel didn't vote for this prick. The new mayor was part of this recent wave of money hungry idealists in power who wanted to turn the humble town he grew up in into another rich touristy playground. 

Usually, these folks couldn't wait to sign the dotted line, get their check, and be on their merry way, but this Miguel was taking his time reading every last stipulation in the document. You notice the snow is coming down harder and harder, your teeth chattering wildly as you did your very best to stay calm as the relentless cold tested your endurance. Finally, Miguel hands you back the paper with a sigh, 

"Still not signin'. Sorry for wasting your time." 

"Miguel." You felt your patience snapped in half by now. Between traveling all morning, your boss's incessant emails, and the cold ass weather, you had just about had it up to here. 

"I'm sorry. But any complaints you have will just have to be taken up with the big man later. I came with a job to do and I have every intention of doing it." 

"That so?" Miguel straightens up, flexing his height over you. 

You were emboldened by this point through all the bullshit you had endured. "It is very much so. I'm not leaving this damn farm without a signature, and that's final." 

"Hm." Miguel nodded his chin, as though he was calling your bluff before he swiftly turned around, walking back towards the awaiting four wheeler. 

"Oh no you don't!" You huffed as your icecubes for feet magically thawed off of pure adrenaline and spite as you began to sprint. 

"What the-" Miguel looks at you quizzically then his brow furrows when he sees you darting towards his four wheeler. "The hell you think you're doing??" 

You ignore him and climb on, Miguel snickering a little bit at the prim and proper lady from the city now straddling his seat, slightly disheveled with a wild look in your eye from dealing with corporate messes all day. 

"Get down." Miguel says sternly, coming up to stand next to you. 

"No." You answer simply, smoothing your blazer. 

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be." Miguel's tone becomes more warning now. "Get off my property, woman." 

"Sign my document, then." You fold your arms. 

"You're a brat, y'know that?" Miguel folds his arms too, incredulous at your undying persistence, more like annoyance. "So childish." 

"Name calling? And you say I'm the childish one." You turn your nose up at him.

"I'm not the crazy lady jumping on a stranger's four wheeler that she doesn't even know how to drive." Miguel grumbles. 

"You'd be surprised." You glare. 

Both of you just sit there in silence, the snowfall has  escalated to just short of a blizzard by now. You're trying but failing to conceal just how damn cold you are as you shiver and shudder. Miguel's mind brews with some ideas before he speaks. 

"Alright." Miguel sighs "I'll sign your damn document. But I need to show you the place first. Just so you can get an idea of just how sick and twisted you people truly are: tearing down a place like this that's been in the family for generations." 

"What?" You blink, not expecting this change of events. "But I mean- but..." You glance at your wrist watch. "It's almost 4 pm. I was supposed to be on the road a half hour ago." 

"Not in this storm you're not." Miguel tsks his teeth. "They always close the canyon when it snows. You won't be able to go anywhere until the morning. But hey, if you wanna call an Uber and wait four hours for him just to be turned around at the bridge, then be my guest." 

"You-" You shuddered and groaned, exasperated at the fact that Miguel appeared to have the upper hand this time. You were stuck playing by his rules. 

"Fine." You resign, throwing your hands up. 

Miguel smirks at this surrender in you, getting on the four wheeler behind you. He's aware the space between your bodies is now very thin, his chest just barely grazing your back as he leans forward, placing his hands on both handlebars. 

You try not to make it obvious that you can't breathe and realize you might be in way over your head being stuck overnight with a man four times handsome as he was stubborn as Miguel drives you rapidly towards his ranch. 

---- 

"Home sweet home." Miguel hums halfheartedly as you enter the elaborate living area of Miguel's mountain home. Several brown and white cowhide rugs were spread over the polished wooden floors, a large pair of antlers hung over a luxury stone hearth, with an inviting leather couch in front of it. 

A short time later, you're absentmindedly staring at some photographs on the wall when Miguel's voice startles you. 

"Had enough snooping?" 

"I wasn't snooping!." You whirl around, pretending to avert your gaze. "I was admiring the antlers." 

Miguel scoffs. "You're a terrible liar, you know." 

"Who is that?" You ask, voice a little more gentle. You kind of wish you never asked when Miguel's eyes soften with the slightest tinge of melancholy. 

"My daughter." He answers then clears his throat. "She passed some years ago." 

"Oh..." You look at him then back at the photograph of the cheery bright eyed girl in it. "I'm so sorry." 

"Thanks." Miguel answers shortly, crossing over to the bar on the far side of the room. 

"I can see why you don't want to leave." You admit, crossing your arms and running your palms up your arms as the glow from the fireplace worked quickly to rid you of any lingering chill from outside. "For what it's worth..." 

Miguel scoffed again. "You don't need to play the sympathy card to win points with me." 

"I- No Miguel! Of course not!" You look at him in horror. "Really, you think I take pride in doing these things to folks like you? You think I'm some souless corporate ghoul that drinks blood of the innocent?" 

"Yes." Miguel stays deadpanned, with the faintest glimmer of amusement. 

"Oh shut up." You blow air through your lips and stride over to where he's standing by his bar. "What do you have to drink around here anyways?" 

Miguel smiles, the bourbon in his glass had made him feel a little more comfortable by now. He glanced outside, eyes slightly widened in surprise at the complete blizzard that was unfolding outside the frosty window. 

"You might wanna go for something a bit stronger than that." Miguel nods in the direction of the window. 

Your fingers move away from the canned margaritas in the mini fridge. You realize bourbon is also the answer tonight when you lay eyes on the absolute winter wonderland outside. 

You had never seen so much snow in your life, as a seemingly infinite stream of snowflakes littered the staggering blankets of pure white that would be nearly waist deep should you venture back out. 

Even though the night was completely black, the shimmery powder stood out, illuminating the December night among the silent and formidable evergreens. 

"Damn..." You whispered. 

"Damn is right." Miguel polishes off his bourbon. "Another round for me too, when you get a chance." He slides his glass towards you across the polished wood. 

"Please?" You quirk a brow at him. 

Miguel chuckles, the sound deep and a little breathy. The feeling it left you...quite unexpected. "Yes, please."

You hum and fill his glass a quarter of the way after you pour your own into one of the small shot glasses you spied below the countertop, throwing the liquid fire back in one ragged gulp. 

Miguel laughs at the face you make and little cough you let out as your eyes water. "Miss Corporate can't handle a little country bourbon?" 

"Miss Corporate can handle herself just fine." You give him a small harrumph. "Miss Corporate wishes to remind Mr. Country Man that she is still here strictly on business and she has no problem decking him in the face should he continue to mouth off." 

"Hmmm business, eh?" 

"Mhmm." 

"Oh, I think we're way past that." Miguel smirks as he leans forward a little closer towards you. "You're having a drink with your evictee. Can't imagine that's not frowned upon." 

"I've had drinks with clients before." You huff, hastily grabbing the bottle and pouring another shot as if to prove a point. This one went down with less resistance, albeit still just as fiery as the one before. 

"Cálmate."(Calm down) Miguel goes to grab the bottle from you just as you're about to pour a third when the sudden move causes the bourbon to splash a little, ending up on your thousand dollar blazer. 

"You... idiot." You roll your eyes as Miguel snorts. 

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry." Miguel steps towards you, trying to help. 

"Nope, you've done quite enough." You huff, trying to disguise the warmth the alcohol was quickly dispelling all over your body. 

"I insist." 

"Miguel, fuck off!" 

"Come here, dammit..." 

And you're not sure exactly what happened, but in that moment his body was pressed up against yours and your faces were mere inches from one another.

This was dangerous now. You knew it, and he knew it, but for Miguel, he was at risk of losing everything anyway. Who could blame him if he wasn't going to make the most of this...convenient situation that presented itself to him. It didn't help that you were quite easy on the eyes as well. 

He pauses as if holding his breath, those deep, deep eyes completely swallowing you up where you stood, the faint sting of the bourbon you can detect on his lips that he wet ever so slightly. 

"M-Miguel, I really shouldn't, I-" 

And you can't remember exactly what drove your lips to meet in that heady first kiss, or how his touch moved from your face, to your neck, whether you were the one who guided him, or his hands wandered on their own accord to the sensitive swells of your breasts, but here you were, up against this tall, rugged farmer you thought you hated only 20 minutes ago, breathing and panting into his mouth and kissing him like your life depended on it, completely contradicting everything you ever said. 

He began to rock his hips against you, hands now on either side of your head, caging you against the wall. You could tell he loved being bigger than you, finally something he had to humble all the sass you loved to throw at him earlier. A not-so-secret attraction you had for him all this time you feebly tried to disguise with disdain. 

Miguel felt it too, and God, right now he couldn't get enough of all the little whines and sounds you were making. How desperate you got just from a little deep conversation and bourbon. This night was swiftly traveling in a more heated direction, and if he wasn't mistaken by the subtle rolls of your body against his aching bulge in his jeans and the hunger laced in your fingers as they tangled in his hair, you had no intention of stopping. 

"Not so feisty now, are you?" He groaned as he started leaving heated kisses along both delicate junctures of your neck. "Sure you're not gonna change your mind  and go back to stealing my farm, hermosa?" He teased. 

"Oh, fuck off..." You grumbled and then bit your lip, back arching involuntarily when you felt him just barely tug your delicate nipple with his teeth. "Aaah Aahhh, Miguel..." You threw your head back.

Miguel smirks and takes that as permission to lay you back completely on his bar, gently tugging the waistband of your business slacks while he switched between both tits and lapped them with the pointy tip of his tongue, until both buds of your nipples were bumpy and hard from all the attention. "You can still stop at any time..." 

"N-No more asking..." You managed to sputter out as you felt his fingers begin to wiggle against your clothed heat that was steadily soaking from the inside. "Just- fffuck, Miguel, so good...just fuck me..." 

"Mmmm..." Miguel groaned in satisfaction and yanked off your pants, followed by your panties without another word. 

Pure ecstacy rolled off the tip of his tongue and dripped between your warm folds as he began to slurp your pussy up like hot cocoa. Miguel strategically left your high heels on, smirking as he glanced over at the mirror on the wall, seeing the pretty businesswoman half naked and back arched so beautifully, moaning as he ate you out on his bar. 

Despite never knowing your body before, his tongue just seemed to find and hit all the right spots, even the ones you were too impatient to look for when you laid in bed all alone. He sucked, and he spit, rolling your clit so perfectly between his lips and leaving no inch of your pretty pussy unbathed by his tongue. 

He alternated between tongue fucking you where his thick nose squished against your clit, hands slinking up the soft flesh of your hips, encouraging you to grind on his face. When he paused and brought his face up to look at you, you swore he was never more handsome than when his face was shiny with your slick, dripping with the evidence that he could make you wetter than any man you'd ever been with.

And other times, he loved to just stare into your eyes with that same, beautifully mesmerizing gaze that was almost too intense to where you'd have to turn away, only for him to whisper, "ah, ah, mirame..." (Look at me) , while his thumb slowly rubbed over your swollen clit, and his middle and ring finger noisily and wetly massaged your squishy walls. 

"Miguel, baby, so good..." You moaned and you sighed, face twisting into a smile as you bit your lip. It felt so shameless to indulge right now. Your career hit the road the second you decided to kiss him but right now you weren't complaining. Logic took a permanent vacation leaving you with nothing but raw, carnal need. All that mattered right now was spreading your legs for this man, being his whore, riding his face and taking his cock every which way he'd have you tonight. 

Your eyes watered as you felt that familiar feeling swelling in your belly, thighs shaking more unsteadily than before. Your back slightly arched from where you laid on his bar but the pleasure Miguel kept injecting into you with his sinfully delicious tongue kept you right there.

"M-Miguel...I'm gonna cum." 

Miguel went even harder, nuzzling his nose even further into your dripping heat, savoring the dribbling honey running between your thighs and dripping into his mouth. He added his fingers again, fingers normally rough and taut and calloused from all that work he did on the farm became soft, intentional, sensual, and deliberate as he coaxed your pussy closer and closer to releasing all over for him.

Your thighs began to quiver around his head, clamping down, however Miguel would gladly suffocate every time for the cause.

"R-right there, Miguel..." 

"Right here, baby?" He groans, swirling his finger in circles over that tried and true spot on your clit, another gush of your juices wetting his fingers before the flood, and Miguel leans over to clean it up with his tongue. 

Every touch now feels amplified in electricity, bordering on overstimulation as his tongue glosses over your soaked folds, something changing in your brain chemistry as he licked up every bit of your arousal as though it were frosting from a bowl. 

"Still with me?" Miguel whispered, leaning in and making out with you as he scooped you into his arms, leading you over to the couch, the entire room painted in an alluring orange glow from the fire next to the warm yellow lights from the tall Christmas tree. 

You groaned as you tasted yourself on his soft, messy lips, the ember of desire burning hotter than ever in both of you. "Y-yeah..." 

Miguel smiles as he sets you down next to him, reaching over and pulling a fleece blanket over your shoulders. His thumb gently brushed the corner of your mouth as he took you in. The most sobering moment between you all evening. One where the alcohol had some time to sink in and both of you were riding out the end of your high together. A new kind of closeness beginning to set itself alight between you as you wordlessly began stripping off the rest of your clothes and you reached for his. 

"Can I?" You asked and a low groan rumbled from his chest. 

"Please." 

You weren't sure, but somehow despite his sass, his generosity and sole focus on making you cum with no assumption on his part that you would be obligated to do the same for him made you even more determined as you peeled back layer after layer, until he sat there in all of his naked glory in front of you. 

He was absolutely beautiful. The salt and pepper pattern from his stubble on his jaw was repeated in his happy trail, leading to a nice, thick, bush around the base of his thick, veiny, cock (More fun for you when you'd be riding him into next week later on).

The tip was just barely a hint of red as it bloomed with precum.  His legs and arms were hairy as well, stomach soft with just the right amount of pudge but everywhere else was solid pure muscle that could only be found on a man who worked hard in the elements, dark hair tousled a bit that fell in his eyes from your passionate fingers earlier. 

The throbbing ache pounded, the glistening sheen between your thighs was all the lube you needed as he pulled you into his lap. Miguel's eyes remained completely locked on you, softening a bit as he felt himself start to push inside you. 

He had suspected sometime around while you were moaning his name and he was lapping up your arousal like an oasis that this whole encounter was deeper than a hookup, and now, he realizes he's sunk: hook line and sinker as your pussy just grips and squeezes him. He sighs as his hands find residence on your hips, taking pleasure in kneading the soft fat. 

"Take your time...." He whispered as he noticed you struggling a bit under his sheer size, his girth slowly spreading you more open. Somehow though, the stretch felt more rewarding, more sinful as you became fuller and fuller of him as you just allowed yourself to relax. 

Miguel's cock bottomed out inside of you, an experimental twitch of his cock reminded you on all fronts that you were stuffed to the brim. He adored this, he loved being so close to you like this, loved the satisfaction that the woman who supposedly hated his guts at first was now completely putty in his hands as you wrapped effortlessly around him. 

"So damn warm..." Miguel purred as he began bouncing you in a slow rhythm. "Ah, ah, mas despacio, por favor(more slow please)..." He teased, grip tightening as he slowed your hips. "I wanna enjoy you like this for a while." He grunted and groaned, loving the way you just responded with more dripping slick around his base as he leaned in to suck on your tits while keeping himself buried inside. "If I'd known you felt this good I would've dragged you out of that fucking snow a lot earlier." He murmured before his lips puckered over your nipple. 

"Please, Mig..." You rolled your eyes but returned a chuckle with a sigh, gently rolling your hips while his cock remained warm and snug inside you. "I'll admit when you pulled up on that four wheeler, it was kind of hard not think about you bending me over the seat.." 

"Yeahh?" Miguel groaned as he churned his hips, drawing his cock in and out of your sea of wetness. "Shouldn't have told me that, now I might need to make that happen..."

As he spoke, his pace increased faster and faster. 

"Aaahh, Miguel...Miguel!" Your threshold was being tested on how much you could take, but nearly fell apart altogether when he added his thumb back to your clit while continuing to fuck up into you ruthlessly. 

"Come on baby, with me...let go."  

And your highs came in waves, yours first followed by his like a bursting dam. His cum overwhelmed your tight hole, causing it to dribble down the sides in filthy display but you loved it, shoving yourself back down on his cock with naughty enthusiasm. Miguel smirked at you, eyes still slightly dazed from euphoria. 

"Good to see you're not wasting any, baby." 

And before you knew it he picked you up, yelping slightly then giggling when you took the initiative of squeezing your thighs tighter around his waist, cock still softening slowly inside your silky pussy, but beginning to pulse back to life as you and Miguel began making out passionately while he took careful steps with you cradled in his arms to his bedroom. 

Perhaps by now you didn't have a job anymore, the future of Miguel's farm was still uncertain, surely you'd be the talk of the entire town come a few months later when your tummy would be swelling with the evidence of every steamy thing that took place tonight inside this snowed in ranch. But, for now, you had much harder, longer, thicker things on your mind as round two became three, then four, with a surprise fifth in the middle of the night and a sixth in the morning. 

When all is said and done, you could always just blame it on the snow. 

[finelinevogue]

life goes on

summary - just a tiny blurb of post tour engagement talk

a/n : this contains a very brief mention of cancer, so be aware of that xx

word count : ~1k

pairing : boyfriend!harry x reader

The sun was setting just down past the mountains.

It had been a busy day and everyone was exhausted. You had all gone on a couple of yachts out to sea to dolphin watch and then come back and swam in the sea onshore.

After the end of tour, Harry had invited all of his family out to spend a month together in his gorgeous Italian house in the countryside. It was perfect for everyone, because it had endless garden land, a hot tub and a large swimming pool. It was a great house for the kids.

Harry’s family’s children were hear, and could be currently heard running around the garden with Nerf guns Uncle Harry had bought them to play with.

Currently, everyone was sat outside on the large patio area. There were bean bags, L-shaped sofas and other various comfortable chairs for people to sit on and none were spare.

“H?” Gemma asked, “Where’s Y/N?”

“Toilet I think.” Harry answered.

“When are you and Y/N getting married then, H?” Harry’s uncle, Dave, asked.

Harry laughed in shock and a few people cheered to that idea.

A lot of people were nursing beers and a few others with various cocktails they’d made for themselves. You had helped Harry set up a help-yourself bar for everyone to make whatever they wanted.

Harry himself had a Corona in hand, with a lime in the top because apparently that’s the best way you take it.

“Oh, let them be!” Anne shushed her brother up. “They’re still in their honeymoon phase.”

Anne watched as her son got all shy, blushing as he thought about how in love he was with you. Anne smiled, knowing her boy would always be happy with you by his side.

“They’ve been in that phase for six years now. The poor girl will run if he doesn’t ask soon.” Dave piped up again.

“Y/N can ask me too, y’know.” Harry suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

“We all know you’re too romantic to let Y/N do that.” Someone else piped up, to which they all agreed.

“Heyy!” Harry protested, but deep down he knew they were right.

Harry had always wanted to get to ask you the big question. Being engaged and looking forward to his own wedding has been something he has looked forward to, ever since watching his first romcom.

Harry won’t settle for giving you anything less than the perfect proposal.

“I do want to be alive to see you get married, love.” Harry’s nan, Marge, chimed in, making everyone laugh.

“You will be, nan. I promise.” Harry held up his beer in promise to his nan. “And anyways, why aren’t you all nagging at Gem - whom is also still not married.”

Harry knew exactly why.

“Don’t believe in marriage, H.” Gem said. “Plus Michal says it’s too difficult choosing a ring.”

“That is true.” Michal nodded and agreed, making Gemma laugh and cuddle closer into his side on the sofa.

Harry looked at them and then towards the house, missing you after only two minutes. He wondered where you were.

“Have you gone ring shopping yet, H?” One of Harry’s aunts, Linda, asked.

“Yes.” Harry shot his head back around to face the conversation.

“Is it going to break the bank?” Dave asked.

“Nothing could dent that boys bank, Dave.” Linda laughed.

Harry smiled along, knowing the ring safely tucked away in his suitcase was just what you had asked for. It had been a reasonable price and it’s beauty outshone everything else.

“Y/N trusts me to pick out the right ring.”

“Good lad.” Dave nodded onto Harry.

“Excuse me a minute.”

Harry put his beer down on the floor and left his family to go in search of you.

He wandered into the house and because it was very open, he was able to tell you weren’t downstairs. He shouted your name up the stairs, but no one responded.

“Babe?” He called again, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

He was getting worried now and ran up the stairs two at a time. He wandered down the hall and straight into your shared bedroom.

No one was on the bed and no one was in the bathroom.

“Y/N?” Harry shouted again, a little more sternly this time. “Where the fuck is—”

He looked in and out of all bedrooms upstairs and the bathrooms too, but no sign of you.

As Harry rushed back down the stairs and opened the front door. He was ready to shout your name again when he saw you sitting the hammock by the front garden gate alone.

He closes the front door and furrowed his eyebrows as he walked quickly over to you.

“Baby? Where have you been?” He asked, dodging in between the cars as made his way to you.

You looked up at him and smiled, but it was one that did not reach your eyes.

Harry watched as you brought a small tissue up to your noses and wipe underneath. He put together, as he moved closer towards you, that you had been crying.

“Baby…” Harry said softly, coming down to crouch in front of you.

You swallowed a lump in the back of your throat and rolled your eyes at your own emotions. Harry was nothing but patient with you, waiting for you to gather up whatever thoughts you wanted to say.

Harry stayed crouched down in front of you, hands clasping yours to stop you from picking away at the skin by your nails - a nasty habit he was constantly telling you off for.

“It’s my mum. She’s back in hospital.” You sadly smiles, watching Harry’s face drop too.

Harry let out a tut and a heavy sigh, sagging his head in sadness.

“Cancer came back. She’s been in for a month and has only just told me.” Your words started to come out in splutters towards the end of your sentence as you began to cry again. “Fuck, m’sorry.”

Harry popped his head at your apology. “No, don’t you start apologising for things that don’t need an apology. Don’t care that this is celebrating post tour. All I care about is you and seeing that smile on your face. If you haven’t got a smile today, that’s okay but we’ll work together to put one back there again.”

You nodded your head in understanding.

Harry moved to sit next to you, laying you both down on the hammock. Harry sat so his feet still touched the floor, but you moved so your whole body was on the hammock and you could tuck yourself into his side. Harry rocked the two of you slowly and rubbed his hand up and down your back, whilst you closed your eyes and listened to the sound of Harry’s heartbeat.

“We can go see her when we’re back, can’t we?” You asked.

“Of course. Why do y’ask?”

“Just checking, in case you had music plans or anything.”

“Baby. You know I’m yours now for the foreseeable future.”

“I know.”

“We can go see her every day if you want.” Harry suggested, “And also. I don’t care what you say, I’m paying for any extra treatment and care to make sure she’s as comfortable as she can be.”

“Ha—”

“No I’m not arguing with you on this, love.”

“But…”

“Yeah, your butt is lovely, I know.” You could hear his smirk as he patted your ass lightly with his hand.

That put a little smile on your face anyways.

“Thank you.” You said softly.

“It’ll be your bank account someday soon too.”

And you smiled again, knowing the prospect of an engagement was soon approaching.

[bejeweledblondie]

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish Headcannons

A/N: I’m very happy y’all are enjoying these!

Warnings NSFW

• Y’all met while you were on a study abroad program

• You had been returning from a night class & decided to go to the local pub for a pint & some food

• It was another soldier that pointed you out initially but he caught your eye

• “Oi, what’s a wee lass like yourself doin’ all alone in the corner?” (It definitely didn’t come out THAT clearly)

• it took you a minute to process what the hell he had said since his Scottish accent is so thick

• You spent hours chatting in that bar, about your home life, studies, etc. Johnny was limited in what he could tell you about his profession

• The two of you exchanged numbers & on your first date he took you to the Scottish countryside

• The view took your breath away, & he explained the history of his homeland to you (he’s very patriotic)

• You’d FaceTime, call, text etc. once you had to return to your home country

• He was so proud to see you graduate (he knew how hard you worked towards obtaining your college degree)

• He told you he couldn’t go to your graduation due to work (it was a lie)

• He planned out a whole secret proposal with your parents over FaceTime

• imagine your surprise when you saw him after the ceremony

• He proposed in private in your childhood house’s backyard

• You initially got married in the states to be able to live with him due to his military service & start receiving housing

• Y’all had a ceremony & reception at a castle in the Scottish countryside complete with a hand tying ceremony

• Yes, you had a bagpiper at the wedding

• He wore a kilt (are we even surprised?)

• Your garter had his last name on it & was in tartan plaid that matched his kilt (yes you had a garter toss & he was in shock when he saw the garter)

• Y’all got a gorgeous little cottage by the sea & ofc a sheep dog to go with it

• He 100% would be hosting for football matches

• And if you’re American y’all would definitely host a Super Bowl watch party

• I feel like he’d love reality tv (especially 90 Day Fiancé & the Kardashians)

• He has commentary too for every scene

• “what a fooking idiot.”

• His favorite Kardashian is Kris Jenner

• Since he can barley keep his hands off of you, he knocks you up only a month after your wedding

• Since he was deployed you mailed him ultrasound photos of the bean

• For a man who is incredibly intelligent it didn’t click that you send multiple photos of the same ultrasound

• He thought he was having quints at first & nearly had a stroke

• “You’re having five of ‘em?!” “No that’s the same fetus just different photos”

• He kept the ultra sound photos in his plate carrier

• Tactical baby gear is a must (also it’s a real company which is awesome)

• Hear me out little baby kilt, Simon gifted it to y’all

• You nearly cried when you opened the gift d

• Simon is 100% the godfather of your baby, if you trust him with Johnny’s life you can ensure if anything happened your baby would be taken care of

• Johnny was lucky that he was able to be there the entire time you were in labor

• He almost fainted when he saw the epidural (I don’t blame him)

• You guys had a little boy

• Unfortunately while you were in recovery he got called back into work for a mission

• Before he left he held your son just incase it was his last time holding him

• You sobbed when he left & one of the nurses had to console you

• Thankfully it was just a hostage rescue so he was back within a few days & ready to help out with the baby

• He carried your son around in one of those baby carriers that your strap to your chest

• Your baby boy is so giggly just like his daddy

• He will constantly be making his son laugh with silly faces, hand motions, anything

• Whenever the boys come over to watch a match your son will be passed around like a hot potato one moment he’ll be sitting with Price then next Simon has him

• As your son gets older he gets interested in what his daddy does, & he’s infatuated with being a soldier

• He’ll play pretend soldier with Soap all the time

• You’re constantly picking up Nerf darts

• When Soap is away on a mission, your son will crawl into bed with you because he misses his daddy

• He draws photos of him & the Task Force to send to overseas

• I also feel like y’all’s son would be incredibly helpful around the home especially when you’re expecting baby No. 2 & after baby No. 2 is born

• Baby No.2 is a little girl

• He’s definitely very protective over his little girl

• “She’s just as beautiful as you, Bonnie”

• Y’all’s son would also enlist or commission to the British Military but I think he’d actually be a King’s Guard for a bit

• And I feel like your daughter would be incredibly creative, she’d use those talents to be an artist

• I do believe Soap is a die hard family man & that’s one of the many reasons why you fell in love with him

✨NSFW✨

• He’s definitely a cheeky bastard & will not hesitate to smack, grab, or make comments in public about you

• He’s 100% dominant in the bedroom & loves to be called “daddy”, or even “Johnny”

• He fucked you right before y’all walked into your wedding reception, perks of wearing a kilt

• This man loves your legs & especially your thighs

• He loves to watch you squirm when his hand trails your legs all the way leading up to your pussy

• He’s not quite during sex whatsoever, he’ll full on groan, moan & tell you good you feel

• He’s a sucker for flexibility

• You take up yoga to improve your flexibility

• I definitely believe y’all wouldn’t even make it through the front door when he comes home

•He’d either fuck you on the hood of the car or the damn back seat in the parking lot

• He loves it when you wear his old PT shorts & no panties easy access

• He definitely loves you & your body & would know how to take care of you

[allthelovehes]

Italian Tub*

Summary: Harry takes Y/N on a surprise trip to Italy for their 5th wedding anniversary. Everything goes smoothly until they find themselves alone in the hot tub in the backyard of their Airbnb.

Pairing: Husband!Harry x Wife!Y/N

Word count: 4.2K

Warnings: Unprotected sex, p in v, public sex, female masturbation, light spanking.

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold @harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla @hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy @bikestyles @bohemianrhapsody86 @cherrylovers-world @harrys-littlefreak Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

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Now that Harry is on a break from touring the world, he is able to spend all his time with his wife. After being married for a few years, they are still as in love as ever, if not more so. Harry loves being a husband to Y/N, and Y/N loves being a wife to Harry. They enjoy every minute of their free time together and cherish the alone time they have.

With their anniversary coming up, Harry knows he needs to get his wife something extra special this year. It was their fifth anniversary, after all. As Harry and Y/N lay together in bed, the anniversary still two weeks away, Harry began to ponder about what to get his girl.

Harry wants something special and intimate. Something that his wife can't just buy for herself. A trip perhaps? As Harry was lying on his side, looking at his beautiful wife sleeping soundly beside him, an idea popped into his head. It was perfect, and she would never expect it.

The next day, after Y/N goes out to go shopping, Harry sits down with his laptop and searches for the perfect getaway. Y/N always wanted to go to Apulia, Italy. So this was the perfect opportunity.

Once Harry opened the Airbnb website and filled in the needed information, he started scrolling through all the homes that were available for rent. As he was scrolling, one particular house caught his eye. It was gorgeous, and Harry knew Y/N would love it. It's a lovely house in the countryside, not too far from the beach. It's also secluded and private, and the best part is there the large pool and hot tub with a view of the village down the hill.

Harry books the Airbnb with no hesitation. He is thrilled to surprise his wife, and he is even more thrilled to see the look on her face when she realises where they are going. Harry knows his girl has been dying to go to Italy. So it's a win-win.

As the weeks go by, Y/N notices Harry is acting differently. It is almost as if he is hiding something from her. But she can't think of what it could be. She decides not to push the issue, but she still keeps an eye on him, hoping that he will soon tell her what is going on.

A few days before their anniversary, Harry decides to break the news to his wife. They are both at home watching television, cuddling up to each other on the couch. As Y/N looks over at her husband, she can't help but feel like something is going on.

“Is everything alright?” Y/N asks curiously.

“Yes, love, why do you ask?” Harry replies.

“It's just... I feel like you've been hiding something from me these last few weeks. Is there something going on?” Y/N questions.

“Yes, actually there is.” Harry begins. “I've been planning a surprise for you.”

Y/N sits up and looks at Harry with an excited expression on her face. “Oh, a surprise? What is it?” She asks with enthusiasm.

“That's for me to know, and for you to find out. But we're going to be leaving the day after tomorrow.” Harry states.

“What? Are you serious?” Y/N practically yells. “We're going on a trip? Where are we going? Tell me, please!”

“Patience, love. You will find out everything once we're at the airport.” Harry chuckles causing Y/N to pout and she crosses her arms over her chest. “Awe, don't be like that.”

“I can't believe you're doing this to me, Harry.” Y/N huffs.

“It's our fifth anniversary, and I wanted to do something special.” Harry explains. “And besides, you'll love your surprise. You have no idea.”

“What do I need to be packing? Summer clothes? Sweaters? What should I bring?” Y/N asks, suddenly excited.

“Pack light. It's not really cold where we're going. So pack some shorts and tank tops, along with some dresses and nice shoes. Oh, and your bikini, of course.” Harry answers.

“Wait, are we going to the beach? Tell me, please!” Y/N pleads.

“I already said too much, so I'm not saying anything else.” Harry states.

“Harry! Come on!” Y/N groans.

“You'll know everything once we arrive.” Harry smiles. “Now, come here and cuddle with me.”

Y/N smiles as she lays back down next to her husband and wraps her arm around his torso. They turn their attention back to the television and finish watching their show together.

***

Two days later, it is finally time for Harry and Y/N to leave. As the two of them stand outside of their house waiting for their car to pick them up, Y/N is practically jumping with excitement. She has no idea where they are going, but she can't wait.

“Are you excited, love?” Harry asks, looking over at his wife.

“Hell yes! I can't wait! This is going to be amazing, I know it!” Y/N smiles.

As soon as the car pulls up in front of the house, Harry takes their suitcases and puts them into the trunk. Then he and Y/N climb into the car. As the driver takes off towards the airport, Harry and Y/N sit together holding hands. They can't stop smiling at each other.

When the car arrives at the airport, Harry helps his wife out of the car. Once the driver brings their luggage to them on a trolley, they walk hand in hand towards the terminal with Harry pushing the cart forward. When they get to the check-in counter, Harry checks in their luggage and they proceed towards the security line.

Somehow Harry manages to get all of that done without spoiling their destination to Y/N. He doesn't even slip up and tell her the airline or the gate number. He is a man on a mission, and he won't be letting anything distract him.

After a quick walk through security, Harry and Y/N make their way over to their gate. When they arrive, Y/N's eyes grow wide and her mouth falls open. “What? Wait, are we going to...”

“Apulia, Italy.” Harry states, a smirk on his lips.

“Oh my god, Harry, this is amazing!” Y/N practically screams. “Thank you, baby, thank you, thank you, thank you!” She then wraps her arms around his neck and gives him a long passionate kiss.

“Mmm, you're welcome, love.” Harry smiles.

As Harry and Y/N wait for their flight to begin boarding, they chat away about what they're going to do once they land. Harry already has a few things planned, but he isn't going to spoil anything. He wants his wife to be completely surprised.

When it is time for the couple to board, they are seated in first class. Y/N loves first class, it's the only way Harry can travel somewhat privately, without people noticing him. Plus, it's a lot more comfortable, and he and his wife are able to relax.

As soon as the plane takes off, the couple snuggle together and enjoy the ride. After only a few hours of flying, they are finally in Italy. They land at Bari Karalis International Airport. When the couple exit the plane and make their way through the terminal, Y/N is in awe of the surroundings. She has always dreamed of coming here, and now she is here.

The warm Italian air is a welcomed sensation, and the sun is shining brightly. The sky is a beautiful shade of blue, with a few wispy clouds here and there. Y/N is over the moon, and Harry is loving every minute of it.

Once the couple has picked up their luggage and left the airport, they are greeted by their driver. They put their luggage into the boot of the car and then climb into the back seat. The driver turns and asks the couple. “Where would you like to go?”

“I have the address right here.” Harry says as he hands the driver a piece of paper.

“Very well, sir. Let's go.” The driver states, the Italian accent thick.

As the driver pulls away from the airport and starts driving down the road, Harry looks over at his wife and says. “I have a little surprise for you.”

“Oh? And what's that?” Y/N questions.

“We're staying at a beautiful little house in the countryside, not far from the beach. It has a hot tub, a pool, a beautiful garden, and a great view.” Harry states.

“Seriously?” Y/N questions. “Oh, Harry, this is the best!” She then leans over and plants a kiss on his cheek.

As the drive continues, Harry and Y/N enjoy the scenery as they pass by quaint towns, picturesque fields, and beautiful villas. After about an hour of driving, the couple are taken aback by the beauty of the countryside. They can see the house in the distance, and it looks amazing.

When the driver pulls up to the front of the house, Harry and Y/N are awestruck by its beauty. As the couple step out of the car and start taking in their surroundings, they are immediately overwhelmed by how beautiful the house is.

“Harry, this is breathtaking.” Y/N states, as she turns to face her husband.

“Isn't it?” Harry smiles.

The couple walks over to the front door of the house and Harry unlocks the door with the key that's hidden in a savebox near the entry. Harry was sent a code earlier in the day so they could have a contactless check-in. As they walk inside, they are greeted by a small hallway with stairs to their right. As they continue walking forward, they come to a living room area with a couch, two chairs, and a large flat-screen television above a fireplace.

“Wow, this is really beautiful.” Y/N remarks, looking around.

“I know, right?” Harry replies. “Come, let's check out the kitchen.”

As the couple makes their way into the kitchen, they notice a large island in the middle with an extended dining table. To the left is a large glass door that leads to a backyard patio with a grill and a large dining area.

“This is perfect.” Y/N smiles, wrapping her arms around her husband's neck.

“I knew you'd like it.” Harry smiles, planting a kiss on her forehead. He turns around to slide open the glass door and walk out onto the patio.

“Wow, this is so lovely. Look at the view.” Y/N sighs, admiring the view. “Oh, and a pool! That's awesome.”

“Yes, and look at the hot tub over there. I think we're going to be spending a lot of time in that.” Harry smirks.

“Oh yeah?” Y/N giggles.

“Definitely.” Harry winks.

The backyard is big but private and located on the top of a hill with a view of the town down below. The street on which the Airbnb is located has a lot of big houses, but they are spread out with enough privacy in between. The garden is nicely landscaped and has flowers everywhere.

As Harry and Y/N make their way back into the house, they head upstairs. The master bedroom is at the top of the stairs, and it is just as beautiful as the rest of the house. There's a large king-sized bed, a TV mounted to the wall, and a beautiful view of the mountains in the distance.

“Harry, this is stunning.” Y/N gasps, as she walks around the room.

“I know, I'm glad you like it, babe.” Harry smiles, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.

“Like it? I love it. This is a dream.” Y/N states.

“Well, we're going to have a lot of fun while we're here.” Harry whispers, planting a kiss on the crook of her neck.

“Oh, really?” Y/N giggles.

“Oh, yes.” Harry chuckles, nipping at her neck.

“Harry, behave.” Y/N laughs, swatting him away playfully.

“I don't want to.” Harry pouts as he begins nibbling on her earlobe. His strong arms hold her tightly against him, not letting her go.

“Baby, come on.” Y/N tries, but her husband is relentless.

“Come on, let's break in the bed.” Harry growls, letting one of his hands slide up her torso and grab her breast, kneading the flesh.

“Harry!” Y/N cries, focussing on keeping a moan from slipping out.

“What?” Harry asks, feigning innocence. “Don't act like you don't want me.”

“I can't deny that I want you, but we're not breaking in the bed right now. I'm hungry, I need food.” Y/N states, pulling his hand off her chest.

“I could eat you.” Harry winks, earning a smack on the chest from his wife. “Hey, I was only kidding.” He chuckles.

“Yeah, sure.” Y/N rolls her eyes. “Come on, let's go.”

“Fine.” Harry sighs.

The couple makes their way downstairs, Harry close behind his wife, his arms around her waist. Ever since stepping foot on the Italian soil, he is feeling like a horny teenager, dying to get the girl in bed.

They decide to go into town and find a restaurant to eat at. The couple walks hand in hand through the streets, admiring the architecture and the quaintness of the town. As they stroll down the main street, they spot a small restaurant and decide to have dinner there.

After having a wonderful meal, the couple takes a stroll back to the house. When they arrive, the sun is beginning to set, bathing the world around them in a beautiful golden glow. As they step into the house, Y/N looks at Harry and says. “This is the perfect night.”

“Yes, it is.” Harry smiles. “And it's only just beginning.”

“Is that so?” Y/N smirks, her hand coming up to cup her husband's face.

“You have no idea.” Harry whispers, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. “Go get your bikini, let's go for a swim.”

Y/N heads upstairs to the bedroom and opens her suitcase. She digs through her clothes until she finds her green string bikini. She strips down and puts it on, checking her reflection in the mirror. As she heads back downstairs, she notices her husband waiting for her by the back door, already dressed in his black swim trunks.

“God, you look good.” Harry growls, eyeing her up and down.

“Stop it, you're making me blush.” Y/N laughs, her cheeks flushing pink.

“No, seriously, you look incredible. Come here.” Harry states, reaching out for his wife.

Y/N steps into his embrace and kisses him deeply. As she pulls away, she notices the hungry look in his eyes. She knows exactly what he wants, but she's not giving in that easily.

“Come on, let's go.” Y/N states, slipping from her husband's embrace.

“Alright, fine.” Harry sighs, letting her go.

As the couple steps outside, the warm evening air hits their skin. They make their way over to the pool, and Harry steps in first. He slowly lowers himself down, the water coming up to his chest. He motions for Y/N to join him, and she does. She sits on the edge of the pool and slowly lowers herself into the water, her feet touching the bottom.

“This is nice.” Y/N smiles, looking at her husband.

“Yes, it is.” Harry nods, his eyes never leaving her.

They stay in the pool for a while, just enjoying the feeling of the water and the warmth of the night. As they swim around, Y/N's eyes wander over her husband's toned body, taking in the sight of him as he's floating on top of the water.

“Are you enjoying the view, love?” Harry asks, catching her gaze.

“Maybe.” Y/N smirks.

“Come on, let's go relax in the hot tub.” Harry states, his hand reaching out to take hers. Y/N follows him over to the hot tub and steps in. The hot water instantly relaxes her muscles, and she lets out a content sigh.

“This is heaven.” Y/N sighs, her head resting back against the edge of the tub.

“Mmm, it is.” Harry agrees, his eyes taking in the sight of her. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, her skin glistening from the moisture. The way her breasts are just peeking out of the water, he's getting hard just looking at her.

“Harry, stop staring at me like that.” Y/N states, opening one eye and peering at her husband.

“I can't help it, you're so beautiful.” Harry smiles, his eyes locked with hers.

“Charmer.” Y/N giggles, closing her eye.

As she relaxes in the hot tub, her mind starts wandering. She begins thinking about her husband, and all the things she wants to do to him. She knows he's watching her, and it's turning her on. She can feel the heat pooling between her legs, and she squirms slightly.

She looks over at Harry, who is now leaning back against the hot tub, his eyes closed. She bites her bottom lip as she watches him. She has a perfect view of his body and can't help but admire him.

As the hot water surrounds her, she lets her hands slide over her body. She trails her fingers across her skin, and the sensation sends shivers through her. She slowly dips her fingers into the waistband of her bikini bottoms, and she carefully pushes them down her legs, trying not to gain any attention from Harry.

She puts her bottoms on the edge of the tub and pulls the strings of her top loose. She gently peels the fabric off her body, setting the top with her bottoms. As she slides back into the water, her nipples harden from the cool air hitting her skin.

As the warm water surrounds her again, she looks at Harry. He's still sitting there, his eyes closed. She can tell that he's enjoying the moment, and it's turning her on even more. She can feel her arousal growing, and she can't wait to touch herself.

Her hands move down her body and slip under the water as she sets her feet on the seat next to her. Her fingers brush against her clit, sending a wave of pleasure through her. She slowly rubs herself, teasing her clit and feeling her pussy get wet.

She watches Harry, wanting to see his reaction when he sees her. She continues rubbing herself, her fingers now moving down to her entrance. She pushes one finger inside her, and then two. She can feel how wet she is, and she moans softly as she fucks herself with her fingers.

She can't help but wonder if Harry can hear her, or if he can tell what she's doing. She wants him to look at her, to see her pleasuring herself. She wants him to see how turned on she is, and she wants him to touch her.

Her fingers are still inside her pussy as she's fucking herself with them. Her other hand is on her clit, rubbing herself in circles. She can feel her orgasm building, and she's not going to last much longer.

She lets out a moan as her fingers pump in and out of her, the pleasure building. Harry's eyes finally fly open, and he looks over at her, his mouth dropping open as he sees her touching herself.

“Fuck, babe.” Harry whispers, his eyes locked on her.

“Harry...” Y/N moans, her fingers still buried deep inside her.

“You're so fucking hot.” Harry groans, his cock straining against his swim trunks. He's quick to pull the fabric down his legs, his erection springing free. He wraps his hand around his cock and begins stroking himself, his eyes never leaving her.

Y/N doesn't know how to reply, but she can feel her orgasm approaching, and her moans are becoming louder. She looks at her husband, his eyes dark with lust.

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” Harry asks, his voice husky.

“Yes...I'm going to come.” Y/N pants, her fingers working faster.

“Then come for me.” Harry growls, his gaze locked with hers.

“Oh, fuck...” Y/N cries, her fingers pumping in and out of her faster.

“That's it, baby, come for me.” Harry coaxes, his hand stroking his cock faster.

Y/N can feel her orgasm crashing over her, and her whole body shudders as the waves of pleasure wash over her. She moans loudly, her eyes locked with her husband's. She can see how turned on he is, and it's driving her crazy.

As she comes down from her orgasm, she pulls her fingers from her pussy and brings them to her mouth. She licks her fingers clean, her eyes still locked with Harry's. He lets out a low groan, his eyes filled with desire.

“Come here.” Harry growls, his hand never leaving his cock.

Y/N moves over to him, the water splashing around her. As she gets close to him, he grabs her and pulls her onto his lap, her legs straddling him. His hard cock is pressed against her, and she can feel his need.

“Fuck me.” Y/N breathes, her arms wrapping around his neck.

“I plan to.” Harry smirks, his hands gripping her hips tightly. He guides her onto his cock, his length sliding into her wet pussy.

“Oh, god.” Y/N gasps, her eyes closing as he fills her.

“That's it, baby.” Harry groans, his hands squeezing her hips as he begins thrusting into her. Y/N can't believe how good it feels, his cock stretching her and filling her completely. She rocks her hips, matching his thrusts and letting out soft moans. She's still sensitive from her orgasm, and the sensation is driving her crazy.

Harry is in ecstasy at how amazing it feels to be inside his wife, her tight pussy gripping his cock. He can feel her juices coating him, and it's making him even harder. He leans forward, his mouth capturing hers in a heated kiss.

“You feel so fucking good.” Harry growls against her lips, his hips picking up speed. Y/N can't help but cry out, the pleasure almost too much for her to handle.

“Oh, god...Harry...” Y/N pants, her eyes squeezing shut as his cock drives into her.

“I love hearing you say my name like that.” Harry groans, one of his hands cupping her breast while the other one remains on her hips, pushing her up and down his cock.

“Please...” Y/N moans, her voice breathy and needy.

“What do you want, baby?” Harry asks, his hand moving to pinch her nipple.

“Harder...faster.” Y/N pleads, her head falling back at the feeling of his fingers on her.

“As you wish.” Harry chuckles. He pulls her off his lap, and guides her to the side of the tub, placing her with both knees on the seat, her ass in the air. “Hold on, baby.” Harry groans, standing behind her. He grabs her hips and pushes his cock inside her once more.

“Fuck, yes.” Y/N moans as his cock fills her again. Her hands grip the edge of the tub for leverage, her back arching.

Harry's fingers dig into her hips as he pounds into her, his cock sliding in and out of her pussy. She can feel him hitting her G-spot, and it's driving her wild.

“That's it, baby. You feel so fucking good.” Harry growls. He slaps her ass hard, the sting making her moan. He does it again, and again, each time harder than the last until there is a visible red handprint on her skin.

“Harry, you're so fucking good for me.” Y/N whines, the pleasure building quickly.

“You like this, don't you? You like it when I fuck you like this.” Harry growls.

“Yes, yes, please.” Y/N begs, her orgasm approaching.

“I'm going to fuck you so hard.” Harry grunts, his thrusts becoming faster. “And then I'm going to spill my cum deep inside your tight little pussy.”

“Oh, god, yes!” Y/N moans, her walls contracting around him. “I'm going to come, Harry.”

“Yes, you are.” Harry says, his hands digging into her hips. “Now, come for me.”

With a loud moan, Y/N's orgasm washes over her, her pussy clenching around him.

“Fuck, that's it.” Harry groans. He pumps into her a few more times, and then his cock pulses, spurting his hot seed deep inside her just like he promised.

As her orgasm fades, Y/N falls against the edge of the tub, exhausted and satisfied. She can feel Harry's cum dripping down her thighs, and she loves it.

“You're such a minx.” Harry laughs, leaning over her and pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“What can I say, you bring out the worst in me.” Y/N jokes.

“Mm, well I'm glad I can be of service.” Harry smirks, his hands running up and down her sides.

The couple stays like that for a while, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking. It's a beautiful night, and they're glad to be here, enjoying each other's company.

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

whipped price is the best price!! i read countryside again earlier on while ao3 was down and it soooo good literally tempted to read it again before i go to sleep tbh looooool but food for thought because i literally think of price and sunshine!reader before i go to sleep but what if (and idk if this is cliche but i am going to be a cliche for this cause why not)

but what ifffff price goes off to the toilet for a week and while he’s gone he leaves sunshine!reader at the bar to get drinks (yes at marissa’s place) anyway sunshine is at the barrr and some random dude comes up and starts to hit on her and she’s like nah dude i’m good thanks and he still hits on her and even marissa is like ‘seriously back off’ and then after a bit price comes out and sees and starts puffing his chest a bit cause ? who da fuck is that flirting with his women?! and the others see him storming over and try to brace themselves for the wrath of price on this muppet flirting with his girl and that’s all i have rn butttt if you wanna continue it then please do

TLTR; price gets jealous of another guy hitting on his girl and i am wondering if you’d be down to finish it off cause you’d do a wayyy better job then me 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

A/N: Thank you s much love. This definitely took I turn, not gonna lie, but I still like it, hope it's alright<3

Dark and Stormy

Summary; When another guy hits on you, Price gets protective. One thing leads to another and you find yourself in a vastly unfamiliar situation with Price that Ghost helps manoeuvre.

Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot 

Word; 4.3k

Warnings; PTSD, mental health discussion, protective!Price, implied age-gap

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing​

SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

The intention of tonight was a quiet night out. Or, as calm as it gets when there's football on the telly. It also was when Johnny entertained a conversation with you rather than watching the game, as disinterested in the sport as they come compared to the others. And yes, even when a team scored, the evening was peaceful. 

But then two things happened. John excused himself to the toilet while you headed to the bar, wanting a drink and something to chew on. It was a few minutes before half-time and you knew there would be a wave of people flocking towards where Marissa, at the moment, stood unoccupied, her arms crossed over her chest, eyes drifting over the crowd with an amused look. As you stepped up to the counter, that gaze settled upon you.

"Ain't it fascinating they can be this invested?" Marissa was as uninterested in football as Johnny, yet both possessed a good understanding of the game and the current season. Both your friend and the Scotsman unwillingly so, regarding the bar broadcasts relevant games on weekends and, apparently, it was a common topic not only off but on base amongst the men.

You shrugged in return. "Each to their own". 

"I guess", she huffed, pushing away from the counter she'd been leaning against. With two short steps, she stood in front of you. "Wanna get something?"

"You already know what I want", you replied, to which she put a hand on her chest, an exaggerated expression morphing her features as her mouth dropped open.

"To come and keep me company, you shouldn't have", Marissa flicked her hand, making you chuckle.

"If it makes you pay for my drink, sure", you wink at her.

"Dream on, missy", Marissa chuckles as she goes to prepare the beverage, but she stops in her track suddenly, eyes shifting away from you.

"I can pay for your drink, gorgeous". You jump slightly at the voice close to you. With a swivel of your head, you instantly locate the blonde man who'd crept up behind you.

"No, thank you", you reply with a polite smile, turning towards Marissa again, trying to make it obvious you turned his efforts down.

"Didn't sound like that a second ago". Your brows furrow, sending the blonde a look over your shoulder.

"Joke between friends", you reply curtly, motioning between yourself and Marissa.

"Well, she can't keep you company all night, can she?" He smiled, leaning on the bar beside you with his elbow. "But I can". He must've thought the wink accompanying his sentence was meant to lighten your mood. If anything, it made you cringe inwardly and take a step away from him.

"Got my boyfriend for that". You looked forwards, locking eyes with Marissa. She met you with an expression you didn't need words to understand.

You saw a movement in your peripheral. Glancing at the man, you spot him turning his head left and right, looking behind him. "Don't see him around. You're not lying to me now, are you?"

You didn't look at him as he faced you, only following Marissa as she propped one of her hands on her hip, a low muttered 'Jesus' passing under he breath.

 "Her man shouldn't need to be attached to her hip for you to understand what a no means", Marissa remarks. You send her a thankful look as her eyes momentarily shift to you.

"He should if having a girl this peng otherwise people will bother her all the time".

"Like you?" You finally turn towards him, arms crossed over your chest.

His brows are furrow, setting his features in a hard stare. "What did you say?"

You want to roll your eyes. But honestly, how the man's voice fell so drastically from the flirty tone made you hesitant. Yeah, you were bordering between annoyed and cautious now. "I'm saying I'm not interested in and you're making me uncomfortable".

"But I've done nothing wrong", he claimed.

"You may interpret that way, but I feel differently, so please", you motioned towards some other tables, asking the man to leave you be.

"I can stay here to have a drink if I want to", he states, turning to Marissa, making no move to listen to your desire for him to give you space. "I'll have a dark ale".

"I won't serve you", she declares.

"You can't decide that", he points at your friend, who cocks her head.

"I can. I own this place".

"Bull-fuckin-shit you do. What poor old grandpa did you rob this place from? Shouldn't even be surprised you took his life-work from him". Your mouth dropped open. Marissa's face hardened.

"Believe what you want because this is my pub and no one here will serve you". The man opened his mouth, about to continue the argument, when someone interrupted him.

"You can't get a clearer no from either of them, mate". Your eyes instantly find John upon his voice. He's standing behind the man looking at Marissa, then you, only for his eyes to meet the blonde's as he turns his head to see who's talking to him. 

"I didn't talk to you, now did I, old man?"

"Maybe not, but you didn't show any signs of human decency and respect to her". John motions to Marissa. "Neither did you care when she straightforwardly said she didn't enjoy your advances", he nods towards you.

Understanding that John caught his behaviour towards the two of you, the blonde suddenly switched up.

"Oh, come on, it's alright, ain't it, love?" He turns to face you, concerning you're the closest to him. Your nose scrunch at the pet name. In your mind, it was only reserved for John. That the man dared to use it despite how he's been acting made a revolting sensation grow in your stomach. "You don't mind me, right?" He raises his arm, attempting to put it around your shoulders in a manner of goodwill. But, you move out of his reach, not desiring to be touched by this man.

And, even if you hadn't moved, the blonde would never have reached you concerning how John acted swiftly. He'd grabbed his shoulder, a gentle pull making him take a few steps back to give you space. When the blonde stumbled slightly from the reasonable action, you understood the man wasn't entirely sober, quite far from it. Noticing the same thing, John placed himself between you and the man rather than standing by your side.

A look of disbelief crosses the blonde's features before he turns sour. "You looking to scrap?" 

"No". John stands straight, using his full height to his advantage. He wasn't only taller but broader than the other man, and you barely saw anything of him if you didn't glance around John's frame. All those things together would've been enough for most to back off, but not this guy. 

"Then piss off", the blonde spat, clearly thinking the liquid courage he'd gotten was enough to stand up to John, oblivious to his disadvantage. And that was only physical. With John's experience, you didn't doubt who'd be victorious in a possible fight. "I'm just trying to get a drink".

John scoffed, glancing back at you. You knew his easy attitude was for your sake, the way his hand sneaked backwards in search of yours reinforcing that as he faced forwards again. 

"It sounded like you tried chattin' up my girl and then insulted her friend. And when both made clear your presence wasn't welcomed, you can't respect them enough to leave. If you didn't notice that it's time to head home". John motions towards the exit with a small jut of his chin as he finally drops what you hope is the hint that will make the blonde scurry away. 

The man did catch it, his eyes flickering to you and then down to see your enlaced hands behind John's back. But you also recognised something else. Hurt fucking pride.

"Don't come and order me around", he scoffs, chest puffing.

"Only givin' you advice". John was serious. You gather that much despite not seeing his face. His voice had dropped a notch, his sentence more straightforward than previously. "Better off takin' it".

"Or what? You gonna force me, don't think ya would even land a hit", the blonde scoffed in return, swaying as he made a show of moving his head as if dodging punches. 

Something changed in the air then. John cocked his head, chuckling. An uneasy sensation rolls through your body upon the sound. It was nothing joyful in it. It was stern, hard edges digging into his smooth and raspy voice.

You know John is SAS, a soldier through and through. He's violent, but not violent. He can separate work from... this. What you feared, however, is that what he deals with professionally is calculated. Everything is planned, counted and weighed until agreed on something remotely executable. Initial planning left little to chance. That much you knew with your sparse knowledge of the military. 

The blonde staring at John now was nothing of this. He was uncalculated, impulsive. He could do something stupid in seconds. You trusted John, not the man.

"Don't buy into his crap, please, John". You step up alongside him, gently shifting out of your enlaced hands to hold his arm, trying to divert his attention. 

He doesn't look at you, eyes remaining locked with the man opposite him. "I won't". 

"Ain't no fucking way to talk to me". You send the man a disgusted look.

"I talk however I want to you if you can't understand what a fucking no means", you spit back. 

One of his brows cock and he steps forwards, hand raising. He doesn't come much further as John copies him. He steps out of your touch, one hand pushing forcefully enough against the guy's chest that he needs to catch himself at one of the stools.

"If you just were about to hit her-". Each syllable of the words is gritted through John's teeth as he speaks slowly. "-don't think about doin' it again". You hear the threat in his voice, the brush of 'test it, I dare you'.

Your throat constricts. And alarm of a situation spiralling out of control blaring in your body. You shoot Marissa a worried look and she knows what you can't say.

"I've had enough of this". Marissa firmly puts her hand down on the metal counter closest to her. Her action is followed by the rattling sound of glasses. John reacts in milliseconds, eyes snapping towards her. The blonde's attention follows a few seconds later. "You are not welcomed here anymore. Get out", she points at the blonde before motioning towards the door, her brown eyes darker than you've seen them in a long time.

"Or what?"

"I call the fuckin cops on you". She threatens, a sneer working itself into twisting her features. 

The man is probably about to defy her and argue when a shadow suddenly positions itself at your side. 

You feel dwarfed, standing so close to the new presence and John. But rather than shrinking in on yourself. You silently thank the gods it isn't an unwelcomed someone.

"You heard her". You look up at Ghost when he speaks. As always, his eyes were the sole feature peeking through his skull baklava. And right now, they bore into the blonde. "Get out". He didn't hesitate to grab the excess fabric of the jacket covering the man's shoulder. 

"Take it easy, mate". The blonde almost whines as Ghost pulls him away from your group and forces him to walk ahead while he follows him to the exit. Even the man understood he'd met more than his match.

You don't hesitate to step around John to face him as soon as the man is gone. You immediately notice his lips set in an aggravated purse and how he must run a pointed tongue over his teeth. His head is turned, a hard stare boring into the man staggering away with Ghost's palm planted firmly between his shoulder blades. 

"Hey". John's eyes finally met yours. They're dark, blue soladites gazing back at you. Something is brewing in them, something volatile. "Are you alright?"

John doesn't answer. Instead, his jaw only works, repeatedly tensing, making the muscle in his temple visible. It looks like he's chewing his words but can't spit them out.

You glance towards Ghost, who just pushed the man out of the pub, caring little about what he does with himself once out of the space. 

Your eyes fall back to John as you sigh in relief. He still looks tense, and in an attempt to wordlessly tell him the situation is under control, you smile. But... you don't get a similar action in return. You got none, in fact. Something feels off. As if the situation is still spiralling despite the source of conflict gone. Your brows furrow, trying to snap him out of whatever resentment he can't seem to let go of by enlacing your fingers. Although, when your fingertips brush his, he flinches. 

Taken aback by how his hand jerks away from yours and he moves back, you whisper his name. "John?"

Your hand hang in the air, staring at him. He's still looking at you. Even so, his gaze feels far-away. Now you're seriously worried. 

"Not your fault". For being such a big man, Ghost moves quick and silently. Upon his sudden appearance by your side again, you turn to him.

"What?" His brown eyes lock with yours briefly before quickly falling on John again. He shakes his head once, not explaining something he must know.

"Marissa". You look at your friend when Ghost directs his attention on her. Even she's watching the situation with wide eyes, unfamiliarity written clearly over her features. "Have a secluded space?" 

"I-uh, you can take my office". Your friend supplies the only private space within the pub's walls. Ghost nods, turning and stepping closer to John.

"Price". The masked man earns the attention of John when he settles on the juncture between his shoulder and neck. Your mouth had opened, wanting to speak up about what just happened to you but stop yourself when no reaction to the touch comes. "Get a move on. To the back". 

And he does. Like a soldier, John turns and heads to the doors leading to the backroom. Stunned, you follow him with your eyes.

"You should come". Ghost directs with a quick look over his shoulder just as he follows John. You do as he says with a quick look at Marissa. She tries to give you a calm expression and a gentle smile, but it's impossible after your interaction with the blonde man and this sudden turn of events. Your jaw clenches as you hurry to keep up with the two men.

One of Marissa's coworkers emerges from the backroom just as you near it. Instinctually she holds the door open for the two men to pass through after she's stepped into the main room. You offer her a 'just getting some things for Marissa' to ease her confusion. Thankfully, you know her and she replies 'alright' just as your friend calls for her. Probably to not linger about to keep it as free of people as possible concerning Ghost's request.

You press your lips together when the doors close, cutting off much of the pub's natural racket, walking briskly behind John and Ghost. Something gnaws in your chest as you look at the latter. Neither he seems relaxed.

Your arms wind around your stomach, silently stepping into Marissa's office, staying almost pressed against the door once your close it by leaning into it.

"Price", Ghost's voice makes John turn. "Your head's elsewhere". He continues. He doesn't sound cold, but he speaks evenly. 

For being a masked man, you would describe Ghost as someone who usually has an expressive voice. But his current tone sounds matter-of-factual. Fuck. You gnaw your lip, fingers digging into your sides, eyes jumping between them.

"You ain't there". Ghost's words make your eyes flitter from John to him and stay there for a few moments. You only see parts of his face concerning how he's still facing John more than you. "You're back home, at the pub. There's nothin' to overthink, nothin' to deal with, nothin' more happenin'. You hear me?"

John nods. But the large man only shakes his head in return. "Answer me, Captain".

"Hear ya, L.T.". John's voice is low and gritty as he grunts the reply.

Ghost nods curtly, a swift tip of his chin. "It's all in your head. Get it back on your shoulders", he continues, letting his sentence hang in the air rather than filling the silence with anything else. 

Though you don't understand the interaction fully, you're starting to grasp what's going on in the stillness. You watch John closely as he crosses his arms over his chest and inhales slowly, holding his breath before exhaling. He repeats the action over and over.

"That cunt ain't here to bother you or your sweetheart, neither is anyone else, so at ease". Ghost angles his body, your eyes landing upon his profile. He motions to you with his hand, bringing a set of eyes to you. Yet, they're not brown, but blue.

Upon John's attention, you shift, shuffling on your feet, but don't avert your eyes. The look from before is still there, though it doesn't feel as intense. And then, slowly, it melts. It's nothing grand, not a sudden shift, no jerk of realisation. But the forced labour breathing John focused on eases into something natural, making his shoulders drop and the look in his eyes change. He feels present. As if he's actually looking at you now. A gentleness fills his eyes. They warm up.

Then, John's eyes flutter close, his head notching forwards. One of his hands settles by his temple, massaging the sensitive point before travelling to the bridge of his nose, pinching the highest point as a deep furrow sets his brows close to his fingers.

"You good?" Ghost asks, his voice milder than before.

"I'm good", John responds on a exhale. He takes a step backwards to partly sit on the desk behind him. He shifts his fingers so his thumb massages the skin between his eyebrows.

Meanwhile, Ghost turns, walking towards you. You only look at him once he stops beside you.

"Should I do something?" You whisper to the tall man. You felt helpless during this ordeal and still not exactly sure what happened even though you now had a guess. Ghost only cocks his head, hand stilling on the door-handle as he looks at you.

"Just be there for him", is all he says, swinging the door open.

He nods goodbye as he exits, not overstaying the moment after he apparently isn't needed anymore.

Your eyes fall on John when the door closes again. He looks tired, standing in a similar position as before. Only his hand had shifted to cover his eyes, the span of his brows covered by his index finger and thumb.

"John?" You try to soften your voice to hide your concern. 

His hand drops, blue eyes finding yours. His mouth is in a thin line, corners slightly downturned. Your heart cracks a bit at his discouraged look.

Your feet move on their own, bringing you to him. As soon as you're within range, he drops his arms, opening them wide for you to step into. It's seamless how you reach around John's shoulders, one hand coming to the back of his head, moving him towards your neck while his arms wind tight around your waist, pulling you close as he haunches forward to burrow his face against your throat.

The silence is only filled with your breaths. Yours blowing into the air at the side of John's head, his exhales puffing against your skin. Your eyes are shut harshly as your fingers repeatedly card through his hair and continue down his neck until your fingertips glide over his last cervical vertebrate.

It's gradual, but you feel John the tension leaving his body. He relaxes against you, not feeling as stiff with his hold. His arms loosen, sliding lower towards your hips where his hand squeeze the plusher flesh. Your thumb circles his shoulder and you turn your head to the side, kissing the side of his head. In return, he kisses the skin over your collarbone.

There's a tug-of-war inside you. Should I? Shouldn't I? In the end, you decide to try.

"If you're comfortable in telling me, what happened?" The words brush against John's head, your breath disturbing some strands of his hair.

He sighs deeply and you hold your breath for a few seconds. "Got triggered". So...PTSD, then? Or was it something you never fucking heard of? Your mind raced.

As if able to read your thoughts, John finally leans away. You don't let your hand fall from the back of his head, continuing to card through the strands of hair at his nape as he looks at you, head bowed to be levelled with your face.

"Doesn't happen much at all". John begins, clenching his jaw before continuing. "But triggers can... it feels like a misplaced adrenalin rush with overwhelming emotions and racing thoughts".

You nod, biting your lip. Brows furrowing, you search for the right words, carefully choosing what to say. "Was it something that guy said that did it?"

"Don't know, can't recall what hit the wrong cord", John said with a shake of his head.

"You sound jealous". You try a different approach in a lighter tone, rapping your fingers against his neck with a soft smile.

"Maybe protective", John shrugs, chuckling awkwardly. Even so, the tightness in the corner of his mouth eases. His gaze flickers away, moving back and forth, staring into nothing for a few seconds. When his gaze trails back, his eyes are a bit clearer, apparently having uncovered something to answer your question better. "Think it was when he raised his hand". 

The reminder that the man had thought about doing something physically to you resurfaced on your frontal lobe. As the moment replayed, you could understand why it was triggering, perhaps not to the extent and with the interconnections John obviously had towards the action.

"Got angry, worried, the feeling resembling something from...", John trails off, but you don't need him to explicitly say it. You're not there. Ghost's sentence echoes in your mind. "Should probably work on that, m'sorry". 

This man. You shut your eyes, turning your head away. You try to will the wetness you felt away, but when you open your eyes, you still need to tilt your head back and forth a few times to not let any tears fall before you look back at John, eyes noticeably glassy even so. 

"Don't apologise". You finally say. "It isn't your fault that guy acted like a cunt. Compared to him, you never wanted to escalate the situation even though you were the one who had the right".

"But-" You cock your head after he cuts himself short, giving him space to continue the conversation at his own pace. John releases a slow breath and speaks again. "It shouldn't have triggered me". You purse your lips at the way he says it. He sounds so frustrated with himself.

"Don't know too much about it", you admit, neither of you labelling what the obvious it was. "But you soldiers can't pick and choose what does or doesn't".

"Wouldn't that be a dream", he sighs.

"Maybe you should work on it. If you want to. Not the protective part, I mean... I appreciate that, I like that I can trust you having my back". You lick your lips, biting the lower one for a second as your brows furrow. "But, maybe the other part?"

It brought a sigh from John. "Guess... I haven't left the last deployment behind entirely despite being cleared on the med-evaluations". It wasn't a yes, but it was an acknowledgement. 

"I-I know we haven't talked much about what you do in detail. But, if you want to, you know? Talk. I'll listen". John looks at you, blue eyes widening.

"I-", he began. "I need to think about it". You nod, not pressing him, understanding that he needs time. 

Rather than continuing the conversation, you lean forwards, pressing your lips against his forehead. You feel his eyes flutter close, his lashes brushing your lower face as he leans into the touch, so you only part to mumble an 'okay' before planting another kiss between his brows. 

You graze your lips over his face in soft presses until you reach his mouth. Hovering there, your hand slip to his cheek. Your fingers brush along the line of his beard, feeling the softness of his skin and the brown hairs. You hover there, waiting until John initiates the kiss.

It's sweet, soft. A gentle tilt of heads in opposite directions as you merely connect the plush pillows of your lips together. It holds so many emotions for something that is so surface-level.

"Want to go home? Escape the crowd?" You whisper against his lips when you part.

John hums, leaning away so his gaze meets yours the second you open your eyes. "If you don't mind".

"Would never mind if that's what you need". You smile at John, running your thumb along his cheek. He sighs, an appreciative smile spreading.

"Can I drive?"

You remember what he said the night you first met, how helpful those drives could be for him. "If you want to, yes". 

"Thank you". John pecks your lip. 

You smile at him. "No need".

[topsyturvy-turtely]

turtely's OTP challenge

read day 23 "The Beekeeper and The Book Author" on ao3!

(prompt: being old together)

summary: Beautiful. Quiet. Nice.

Gen, 360 Words, Retirement. John Watson's blog, Fluff.

✨imagine this little baby but 40 years older✨

or read it on tumblr:

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Dear readers,

This will be my very last blog entry. I don’t even know if you young people still read ‘blog entries’ – this is for the people who have followed my blog from years ago, really. Maybe this will be a nice surprise for you.

Here is a little update on our life: Sherlock and I married in the year of 2024. It was a beautiful ceremony, small but meaningful. Not many people – neither of us ever really was a ‘people person’.

We continued our detective work until Sherlock turned 67 years old. I don’t really know how we managed with little Rosie, but we did. She turned out to be one of the most intelligent scientists in Britain and both of us are extremely proud of her.

After Sherlock finally retired we moved to a cottage in the countryside. It is beautiful here. Quiet. Nice. Words, the young Sherlock Holmes would have despised. Let me tell you now, that this man has the softest and biggest heart, you could imagine. He always has had it, he just didn’t show – to protect himself, I believe.

I am getting side tracked… Sherlock is a beekeeper now. He loves bees as if they were his own children. Puts all his research into bees as well. Even sells honey, my old boy. I am proud of him. Really, I am.

Skdico ,kjdkojoaoooooooooppposipoi

I apologise, I got distracted by a white haired and bearded (oh, yes he wears a beard now – I quite like it…) cat purring into my ear. He told me to mention my books. So, I will because otherwise this gorgeous lfjklalaaaa

Where were we? Oh, yes my books. What is there to say? I turned my blog into a book. Book series, really. You can buy the books on Amazon – just search for “Sherlock Holmes Books” and they will be suggested. It’s funny, they sell as if Sir Arthur Conan Doyle had written them himself. Which of course, he didn’t, they are all written by ordinary old me, Dr. John Watson.

So this is us. Retired consulting detective and doctor, now beekeeper and book author.

It is beautiful. Quiet. Nice.

✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑

comment on ao3!

tags under the cut :)

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed please 💚) @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @catlock-holmes @inevitably-johnlocked @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @baker-street-blog @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @battledress @a-victorian-girl @dreamerofthemeadow @oetkb12 @ohnoesnotagain @mutedsilence @jawnscoffee @raenchaosandcozyadashofmurder @lisbeth-kk @quickslvxrr @compact-and-beautiful @kabubsmagga @sunshineinyourmind @booksoversleep @startrekker2011

[d-z20]

The Ballad Of Agatha Harkness Chapter 14

Summary: Agatha and Rio settle into a rather domestic way of life. Agatha asks about Death and Rio obliges and answers all her questions.

Warnings: fluff and lots of it

Words: 2.4k

A/N: Just some cute little Agathario moments in time (and maybe a slight plot twist at the end)

AO3 link | Master List

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Love in the Darkness

1697

The early summer sun poured over the countryside, bathing the world in a golden haze. Outside the small cottage, the air was alive with the hum of bees and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. The tranquillity seemed almost otherworldly, a stark contrast to the storms both literal and emotional that Rio and Agatha had weathered together.

Agatha sat on the cottage step, her needle moving deftly as she worked on embroidering a delicate handkerchief. The sunlight played tricks in her hair, catching the coppery undertones and turning her curls into a halo. Rio leaned against the doorframe, her gaze fixed on the woman before her, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“You’re staring,” Agatha said without looking up, her voice laced with quiet amusement.

Rio didn’t bother denying it. She crossed her arms, her smirk widening. “It’s a privilege.”

Agatha glanced up then, her eyes glinting with playful mischief. “A privilege, is it?”

Rio shrugged, stepping closer until the soft scent of lavender and freshly turned earth wrapped around her. “Absolutely. Not everyone gets to watch a witch at work. Especially one as gorgeous as you.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, but a faint blush crept up her cheeks, betraying her.

The past few months had been a gift neither of them had dared to imagine before. Since Rio’s confession, their lives had settled into a peaceful rhythm. Days passed quietly, filled with small, shared moments that felt larger than life: mornings spent in companionable silence as Agatha read her books and Rio sharpened her daggers, afternoons filled with laughter over small, silly arguments, and evenings wrapped in each other’s arms as the firelight danced against the walls of their cottage.

For Rio, this newfound peace was nothing short of miraculous. She still attended to her duties as Death, but the work felt less isolating now. Knowing that Agatha waited for her to return, her sharp tongue ready to tease and her arms ready to comfort, filled Rio with a sense of belonging she had never known.

As the sun began its slow descent, turning the sky into a canvas of pink and gold, Agatha set aside her embroidery and leaned back on her hands. “Rio,” she said casually, though her voice carried the weight of her curiosity. “Tell me more about what you do.”

Rio, who had been lounging in the grass a few paces away, raised an eyebrow. "What I do?”

“Yes, your... role,” Agatha clarified, her tone unbothered by the gravity of the question. “You never really talk about it. I’d like to know.”

Rio hesitated, her usual bravado faltering. “You don’t want to hear about that, my love. It’s not exactly bedtime story material.”

Agatha didn’t let her off so easily. She turned to face Rio, her gaze steady. “If I’m going to spend my life with you, I want to know all of you. Even the shadowy bits. Especially the shadowy bits.”

The sincerity in her voice left Rio with little choice. With a resigned sigh, she pushed herself up and sat cross-legged across from Agatha. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, her fingers fidgeting with a stray blade of grass.

“I don’t kill, Agatha,” she began, her voice quieter than usual, laced with an unexpected vulnerability. “I’m not a monster with a scythe or some vengeful spirit. I’m a guide, a witness. Death isn’t about violence—it’s about endings. And those endings are supposed to happen on their own.”

Agatha tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “Supposed to?”

Rio’s jaw tightened, her gaze dropping to the ground. “Sometimes people try to... cheat it,” she admitted, her voice tinged with regret. “If I try to extend life or interfere with what’s meant to happen, it all goes wrong. The balance is delicate. Too delicate.” She looked up then, meeting Agatha’s eyes. “It’s not something I take lightly.”

Agatha reached for her hand, her touch grounding. “Thank you,” she said softly. “For trusting me with this.”

Rio managed a small smile, the tension in her shoulders easing. “You make it easier than I expected.”

—

Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Rio stepped outside, her hands hidden behind her back. Agatha was busy tidying up the small garden, humming softly to herself.

“Agatha,” Rio called, her voice uncharacteristically tentative.

Agatha turned, brushing dirt off her hands. “What is it?”

With a flick of her wrist, Rio conjured a bouquet of vibrant pink azaleas. The blooms seemed to glow in the dim twilight, their colour rich and full of life.

Agatha gasped softly, her eyes widening. “Azaleas?” she murmured, stepping closer to take the flowers. Her fingers brushed the delicate petals, reverent and careful. “How did you know?”

Rio shrugged, attempting to mask her nervousness with nonchalance. “I notice things about you.”

Agatha’s smile was slow, her gaze warm as she looked at Rio. “Well, next time, notice that I don’t have a vase.”

Rio laughed, the sound rich and full of affection. “Noted,” she said, watching as Agatha carefully placed the flowers on the cottage table, handling them as though they were precious jewels.

As they stood together in the fading light, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of them. For once, Rio allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, she could keep this. That she could deserve it.

1710

The fire crackled softly, filling the quiet of the cottage with a warm glow that softened the sharp edges of winter. Outside, frost clung to the windows, painting intricate patterns on the glass, but inside, the world was a cocoon of heat and golden light. Agatha sat curled in her favourite chair, a book open in her lap, though her eyes were fixed on Rio, who was lounging on the rug, leaning against the hearth.

Rio’s boots were kicked off, her dark hair falling loose over her shoulders, and she was idly tracing patterns in the rug with a finger. She looked, Agatha thought with a fond smile, almost human in these moments—unguarded, soft around the edges.

“You know,” Agatha began, her voice breaking the comfortable silence, “I’ve always wondered something about your work.”

Rio quirked an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smirk. “Oh, this should be good. What could the great scholar possibly not know?”

Agatha threw a stray piece of wool at her, which Rio caught easily, her smirk widening. “Don’t tease, or I won’t tell you,” Agatha warned, though there was no real threat in her tone.

“Go on, then.” Rio propped her chin on her hand, her gaze steady. “What’s this great mystery you’re trying to solve?”

Agatha leaned forward, her expression intent. “Who have you encountered the most in your work? Kings? Emperors? Tyrants? Surely the ones who command the most power must keep you busiest.”

Rio’s amusement faded, replaced by a contemplative stillness. She stared into the fire for a moment, the flames casting flickering shadows across her face. “It’s not them,” she said finally, her voice quieter than before.

Agatha tilted her head, surprised. “No? Then who?”

Rio looked up, her dark eyes meeting Agatha’s. “The soldiers,” she said simply. “The ones who march into battle, who swing the sword or pull the trigger. They’re the ones who hold death in their hands, not the ones sitting on thrones. The king orders it, yes, but the soldier feels it. And that’s what brings me to them.”

Agatha sat back, her brow furrowing as she absorbed this. “The soldiers...” she repeated softly. Her fingers toyed with the edge of the book in her lap as she thought. “I never considered that. I suppose I always imagined death as... distant. Sweeping over battlefields, faceless and impersonal.”

Rio snorted softly, though her expression remained serious. “Death might be a force, but soldiers? They’re the ones who make it personal. Every time they lift their sword or steady their aim, they’re calling me closer. Not for themselves, usually, but for someone else. That’s why it’s them I meet the most.”

Agatha’s gaze lingered on her, a mixture of fascination and sadness in her eyes. “And what do they say to you? When they see you?”

Rio shrugged, her fingers resuming their absent tracing of the rug. “Depends. Some beg. Some curse. Some just… stare. The ones who accept it, though? They’re the easiest to guide on.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, in typical Agatha fashion, she broke the silence with a wry smile. “Well, you’ve thoroughly ruined my romantic notions of tyrants clutching their pearls at the sight of you.”

Rio laughed, the sound breaking through the heavy atmosphere like sunlight piercing through clouds. “Romantic notions? Of tyrants? My love, I think you might need a new hobby.”

Agatha grinned, setting her book aside and moving to sit beside Rio on the rug. “It’s not every day you get to hear Death talk about her least favourite clientele,” she said, her tone teasing. “You can’t blame me for finding it fascinating.”

Rio wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“And yet, here you are,” Agatha quipped, leaning her head against Rio’s.

“Here I am,” Rio echoed, her voice softer now. She pressed a kiss to Agatha’s hair, her eyes drifting back to the fire. The warmth of the moment didn’t erase the shadows, but it made them easier to bear.

1725

The night was unusually still; the stars scattered across the sky like a sea of diamonds. The two of them sat outside the cottage, wrapped in the quiet hum of the world. The fire crackled softly, its warm glow a sharp contrast to the cool darkness that pressed in from the forest. Agatha leaned against Rio, her head resting lightly on her shoulder, the weight both comforting and grounding.

“You know, my love,” Agatha said suddenly, her voice breaking the silence, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.”

Rio turned her head, glancing down at her. “Oh? What is it this time, sweetheart?”

Agatha hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “I’ve seen you, Rio. I mean, the version of you that you let me see. But I know there’s more. I’ve read enough; I’ve learnt enough to know you’re not just... this.” She gestured faintly at Rio, her tone soft but insistent. “I want to see the real you.”

Rio stiffened, her breath catching. “Agatha…”

“I mean it,” Agatha pressed, sitting up to face her. “I don’t want just the part of you you think I can handle. I want all of you. Let me see you as you truly are.”

Rio looked away, her jaw tightening. “It’s not something people are meant to see, Agatha. It's not human. It’s not beautiful.”

“You’re wrong,” Agatha said firmly, her voice unwavering. “I’m not just anyone, Rio. I’m yours. You’re never going to lose me. Let me see you.”

For a long moment, Rio said nothing, her gaze fixed on the fire. Then, with a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of her soul, she rose to her feet. “You asked for this,” she murmured, her voice heavy with a mix of reluctance and resolve.

The transformation began slowly, like shadows peeling away from her form. Her human features dissolved, replaced by something otherworldly and ancient. Her face took on the appearance of a skull, dark and hollow yet alive with an eerie glow. Her body shimmered with ethereal energy, her black veil flowing like smoke in an unfelt wind. In one hand, she held her dagger, sharp as the void itself, and in the other, a fragile flower that seemed to hum with the weight of countless souls.

When she finally stood before Agatha in her true form, the air seemed to grow colder, heavier. The night around them grew darker, the stars dimming as if they, too, dared not shine in her presence.

Rio looked at Agatha, expecting fear, revulsion—anything but what she saw.

Agatha’s eyes softened, her lips curving into the faintest of smiles. Slowly, deliberately, she stood and stepped closer. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered, her voice steady, her hand reaching out to gently touch Rio’s face.

The gesture was so unexpected, so tender, that it broke something deep inside Rio. Her shoulders sagged, her veil flickering as if unsure whether to stay or fade away. “You’re the only one who’s ever said that,” she murmured, her voice almost breaking.

Agatha cupped Rio’s skeletal cheek, her touch gentle but firm. “Then everyone else was blind.”

They stood like that for a moment, the world around them holding its breath. Finally, Rio let herself relax, allowing the vulnerability to wash over her. She let Agatha guide her back to the ground, where they sat together under the stars.

Agatha leaned against her again, her head resting on Rio’s shoulder. This time, the weight felt even more grounding, more comforting.

“I told you I could handle it,” Agatha murmured, her eyes drifting closed.

Rio chuckled softly, her voice still laced with awe. “You always prove me wrong.”

And so they stayed there, wrapped in the intimacy of the moment, the night’s stillness wrapping around them like a promise that nothing else mattered.

— 

The night became unusually silent, as if the world itself had stilled in reverence—or dread. Agatha leaned against Rio, the weight of their earlier exchange still hanging in the air. The fire had dwindled to embers, but neither woman moved to rekindle it. The sky, studded with stars, seemed too fragile a beauty to disturb. Yet something about the quiet, unsettled Rio. Her senses—sharpened by centuries of walking the edge of existence—prickled with unease.

Agatha stirred, her head tilting slightly. "Do you feel that?" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rio nodded, straightening. The air had changed. It carried a weight now, dense and suffocating. A faint chill crept into the clearing, not from the cool night but something deeper, more insidious. The woods surrounding the cottage seemed to lean closer, the shadows stretching unnaturally, their forms warping at the edges.

Rio stood, her movements slow but deliberate. Agatha followed, her expression tense. “This isn’t normal,” she muttered, her fingers already crackling with a faint shimmer of purple magic.

And then they heard it—a sound that didn’t belong. A low rustle, like dry leaves scraping together, though no wind moved. It came from the woods, from all directions at once, a whispering cacophony that set Rio’s teeth on edge.

Agatha took a step closer to Rio. “Someone’s here,” she said, her voice steady but tight.

The mist began to creep in, curling along the ground like spectral tendrils. Rio’s eyes narrowed, her posture shifting subtly into one of readiness. “The Salem Seven,” she murmured, her voice low but carrying the weight of her understanding.

-----

You didn't think I had forgotten about them did you?

Next Chapter >

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 1: Stuck

Birmingham, England, 1919

Much like America, it is an empire of industry. Giant factories tower over the slums and shacks, with drunks, thieves, and whores alike all sulking in the shadows. Smoke and ash cloud the sky and block out what little sun there is, as well as fill everyone’s lungs with foul air. With sparks flying everywhere it’s a miracle nothing catches fire. The gloomy and dreadful atmosphere is enough to make anyone faint, vomit, or lose hope altogether.

But I’ve got something these folks do not. 

I am an American.

While that may not be astonishing to some, to me it means that I’m independent, as well as rambunctious and a bit of a rebel even for my culture. My family always says I’m too rash and stubborn, and that it will diminish any chance of me finding a husband and settling down for a proper life. But I’m in no mood to marry, so sue me for actually enjoying my life.

However, at the moment I seem to be in a bit of a pickle. You see, I don’t travel much. Yes there’s the occasional trip out of state, but never in a million years did I think I’d ever go to England. Of all places, my family chose to vacation in Manchester, England. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a beautiful country with gorgeous countryside views and polite accents… that is until you reach the deep city. Then it gets bustling and dangerous, which is how I came to be where I am now. We decided to travel by train, stopping in Birmingham on the way to London before we headed home. Lord knows why I decided to stray away and get a better look at the intriguing shops, but after an hour of desperately searching for my family it finally sunk in that I was, quite frankly, alone. Talk about a dumb-headed move on my part. I passed back and forth through the train station for hours as night fell, growing more and more worried about what kinds of danger Small Heath, Birmingham has hiding in the darkness. 

Right now, people are giving me mixed looks of pity, confusion, and judgment. I know I’m not much to look at, with my messy blonde hair stuffed under a simple hat and my slim figure dressed in a gray dress with black heels. I probably look much richer than I really am, which makes my fear of criminals spike even more.

“Might I help you, young lady?” A sinister voice calls out.

He's a drunk, I’m sure of it. A man in a ragged overcoat staggers over, and he’s reeking of alcohol.

“No, I’m waiting for someone. Please leave me alone.” 

“Oh, no. You’re all alone? Perfect…” He licks his lips and starts reaching his hand out-!

“Back off! She’s with me.”

I look over and see an older man wearing a trenchcoat and bowler hat. He’s got a simple mustache, is smoking a pipe, and carrying a briefcase. Is he a cop?

“Says who, old man?” The drunk slurs.

But instead of answering, the man slugs the drunk in the nose and ushers him off. When he turns back to me the bowler hat man extends a hand to shake.

“Excuse me, miss. I’m Inspector Chester Campbell. Who might you be?”

“I- I’m Verena, Verena Steenstra.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Verena. I’m here for private matters, sent by Churchill on account of a BSA munitions robbery. I am here to weed out prime suspects and possibly recover some stolen items that belong to the Crown. You wouldn’t happen to know an Arthur or Thomas Shelby, would you?”

I shake my head. “Sorry, can’t say I have. I’m new to these parts, just having arrived from America yesterday.”

He nods. “Well it’s best if you don’t, miss. They’re ruthless, the lot of them. Gangsters, bookmakers, racketeers. The gang they’re part of call themselves the Peaky Blinders. You best be getting indoors instead of wandering these dreadful streets at this hour.”

When Campbell sees my uneasy expression he frowns. “You do have a place to stay, right?”

“Actually sir, I was… left here by mistake. My family left hours ago and I’ve been here ever since.”

Campbell’s eyes soften a little. “I’m sorry to hear that, miss. If I knew the area I’d find you an inn or hotel, so the most I can do is guide you to the desk clerk in the train station.” He gestures for me to follow him and leads me over to the back desk, where a middle-aged lady is typing. “Hello, would you happen to know where this young lady might find any lodgings?”

The lady gives me a once-over and tilts her head. “Maybe ask Harry at the Garrison. That’s a local pub nearby. You can’t miss it. Just ask for Harry.”

We thank her and head back outside, where it’s starting to get dark.

“I’m sorry to leave you here, but I’ve got my own appointments to attend.” Campbell grips his briefcase and waves to signal a passing cab. “You’ll be alright?”

I try to give a convincing nod. “Yeah, as good as I can I guess. Good luck with your investigation.”

“Best of luck to you too, miss. You’ll need it if you want to survive this wicked city.”

And with that, the inspector climbs into the cab and is driven off. Leaving me, once again, alone. But at least this time I have an idea of where to go and what to do. I tightly grip my small suitcase and begin walking down the bustling streets, trying my best to ignore the… less than Christian crowd that hovers around. 

“God does not care if you live in a slum or in a mansion!”

A man’s voice draws my attention, and I look to find the source coming from down the street. He sounds Jamaican, and seems to be a minister of sorts. 

“God does not care if you are rich or you are poor!”

I approach slowly, not wanting to interrupt. “Excuse me, sir? Where would I go to find the Garrison?”

The man frowns at me, confused. “What’s a lass like you doing in this part of town? Don’t you know it’s dangerous?”

“I understand that. I’m looking to find a place to stay, so I’ll ask again. Where can I find the Garrison?”

The man looks at me as if I’ve signed my own death note, then points to the building down the street. “There. But God be with you if you want to persevere with what kind of men go in there.”

I thank him and walk towards the building. It’s definitely a pub, because there’s drunk men staggering out and vomiting everywhere. 

“Look out!” Someone shouts.

Without warning, a small person plows into me and sends us tumbling into the dust.

“Dear God, what on Earth…?” I gather myself up and get a look at the person, or should I say kid. He’s a young boy with a conservative haircut, wearing dark pants, a white shirt, and gray vest. One might say he dresses just as professional as any stockbroker. 

“I’m sorry!” He says in a worried manner and looks as if I’m about to slap him. “I didn’t mean to, I swear!”

I gotta say, seeing this boy speak in an English accent is downright cute!

I kneel down to seem less intimidating and hold out a hand. “Hey hey, it’s alright, kid. It was an accident. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He nods and shakes my hand, now looking at me differently. “You sound different.”

“I’m American, from New York. Now what was it you were running from?”

“Oh, right!” He points to the alley he just ran from. “I’m playing hide-and-seek with my aunt.”

I frown. “And you’re out here, in the dark, at this time of night? It may not be my place to say, but you should probably go back inside. Where’s your aunt now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well that’s not going to get us anywhere. You got a name?”

He smiles and nods eagerly. “I’m Finn, Finn Shelby. I’m 10 going on 11!”

“Wow, that’s old! So Finn, how about you head inside with me and we can find a way of contacting your aunt? That sound alright?”

“Finn! We were looking for you!” A man comes walking up, wearing dark clothes and a cap. When he sees me next to Finn, the man’s eyes darken. “Who are you?”

I ignore his question and look at Finn. “Do you know him?”

“Yeah, he’s my brother John.”

Now I know that I can trust this man. “I’m nobody. Just a lost tourist who’s looking out for Finn.”

The man looks confused. “Why? You don’t know him.”

“That doesn’t matter. I’d look out for him as if he was my own child because no kid should be wandering around at this time of night.”

He scoffs. “What are you, some nun or midwife? Doesn’t matter. Come on, Finn.” John takes the boy’s hand and starts walking away. 

“Nice to meet you!” Finn calls before they’re out of sight.

“Goodbye!”

Now to get back to the task at hand. While being as inconspicuous as possible, I sneak past the gruff men and enter the strangely quiet bar. I gotta say, it’s surprisingly clean. Compared to the filthy world outside you’d think the king himself would eat here. But I know better. I can tell this place has seen its fair share of violence, but I give credit to the barman for keeping it spiffy. Gruff and sketchy-looking Brits sit scattered all over the room. Murmured conversations ghost around the room, confirming that this is yet another place I shouldn’t be at. A few turn their heads, but seem uninterested… for now. I hold my suitcase close and discreetly make my way to where the barman is standing.

“You don’t know me, but the desk clerk at the train station said to ask for someone named Harry.”

The barman, just like everyone else, seems to think I’m a fish out of water. “I’m Harry. What do you want?”

“She said you could tell me where to find a place to stay. I’ll pay what I can, I swear. I just need somewhere to sleep until I can find a way to get back to America.”

His face changes. “America? You mean you’re stuck here?”

“For the time, yes.”

First Harry goes to say something but then seems to look over at someone behind me. This changes his demeanor and he gestures for me to sit.

“Can I get you anything?”

I shake my head. “I don’t drink.”

“I do,” a woman’s voice says behind me.

A dark-haired woman wearing a gray suit sits up next to me, her face being shielded by a hat.

Harry nods respectfully at the woman and pours a shot of whiskey. “On the house, Polly.”

She gladly takes the glass and downs it, looking at me with calculating eyes.

“Name’s Polly, love. Polly Gray.”

“You seem to be a woman who knows what she’s doing, and how to conduct authority,” I reply.

“And you seem to be a woman who has nowhere to go. Am I right, love?”

I look away and become more interested in staring at the table. “Yes, ma’am. I’m currently homeless, jobless, penniless, and on the verge of hopeless.” I look back up. “But I’ve got a song in my heart and a gleam in my eye, so that’s all I can do for now.”

Polly laughs and twirls the shot glass in her hand. “Well a song and dance isn’t going to take you far, love. It’s best if you come with me.” She stands back up and starts pulling her coat back on.

My thoughts freeze. Did I hear that right? This person, this complete stranger who has no inkling of who I am, wants me to go with them? Where? And what for? Inspector Campbell said to be careful.

“Wait- what? What do you mean?”

Polly walks to the door, unfazed by my questions. “I saw you interacting with Finn. You treat him as both a child and an adult, which is something I respect. You’re not too sour but still know when to show a firm grip. I’d like to hire you as his tutor. He needs help studying, as well as someone to make sure he doesn’t shoot his eye out.”

My jaw drops. “Shoot his… But how-?”

“Don’t ask. I have to deal with the most ridiculous idiots this side of England, you have no idea!” She scoffs as I follow her back into the inky night. “The fact is that I need a tutor, and you need a roof over your head. So, do you want the job or not?”

I try to form words but all that comes out is a babbling mess. My thoughts are fried! What reason do I have to even trust this Polly character?

“You’re conflicted,” Polly states plainly. “I can understand why.”

“Yes! Because- because I’m alone! I- I have no one to help, but everyone says I can’t trust anyone here, and then you happen to be passing by… I don’t know what to make of it!”

Polly puts a hand on my shoulder. “Love, one of the things I always go by is my faith. If fate had it so you would be here to help Finn and get my attention, then God has spoken. My trust is not so easily won over, so I suggest you consider this chance very seriously.”

She’s right. Everything’s led to this. Besides, she’s right. I need a job.

“Yes, I accept your kind offer.” I hold out a hand and we shake. “Thank you, Mrs. Gray.”

“I may be your employer but there’s no need for that formality. Polly’s fine, love. And yours?”

“Verena Nora Steenstra,” my name flies right off the tongue. 

“That’s Dutch, I’d imagine?”

I nod. “Yes, after my great grandmother. My father’s Dutch, my mother’s Irish.”

“Ah yes, you Americans and your mixed heritages.”

She doesn’t seem upset by it, and I’m glad she doesn’t inquire further. My family isn’t cruel, but we’re not exactly the most wanted people in New York. My uncle on my mother’s side is part of the Irish mob in Brooklyn, so our reputation is a bit strict.

Polly leads me through the dark streets and people seem to be aware not to test her. Crowds scatter away to let us pass, not even daring to meet her eye.

“You have authority here?”

“Of sorts. People know better not to start a quarrel. Here we are.”

The house itself is simple-looking on the outside, something I admire. Polly opens the door and shows me inside, which displays a traditional cross hung in the hallway. I follow her past a kitchen and into a small room near the back, one containing a simple bed and vanity as well as a single window.

“Bathtub’s down the hall. I’ll leave you here to settle in, I trust the lads will guide you through the house. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must attend a family meeting. Finn’s around here somewhere if you wish to chat.”

I set my suitcase on the bed and look at Polly with sincere gratitude. “Thank you so much. You really saved me from a tight pickle, and I promise I will do everything I can to repay you.”

Polly smiles and, to my uttermost surprise, comes over to give me a hug. “No problem, love. You seem like a decent girl, even if you are American.” She snickers and goes to walk out, then turns to say: “One more thing: when you meet Thomas, just know he’s a bit rough around the edges.”

I squint in bafflement. “Thomas? Who’s-?”

But she exits before I can finish. So just to be clear: Now I need to teach a boy from a family I just met and am expecting to meet someone who’s ‘rough around the edges.’ Yay?

[idk6123]

An Odd Human (Vergil x Male reader)

Travelling around the world in order to get more power certainly makes his life more interesting. Whether it’s new sword-technique, new abilities, weapons or anything else, Vergil’s curiosity can never been ceased. Most of the time, however, since he’s living in the human world, there isn’t that much interesting stuff. Still, it’s not like he has a choice.

One day though, his view upon humanity changed just a bit. It all started when he arrived at a small town in the countryside. A farming village that is near a lake. With the spring sun, it’s not too cold or hot. Knowing he’s going to rest for the rest of the day, he walks in a B&B to get a room. Then he gets led to his room by a human called Y/N.

“Where’s your stuff?”

“I got all I need here.” Vergil responds.

“Mm, practical, I guess.” Y/N made some small talk, but nothing too major, which Vergil appreciates. Once they get to the next floor and to his room, Y/N watches how he’s looking around. “And?”

“It’s good enough.” Vergil responds. He looks back. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Y/N then lays eyes upon the sword sheath. “You’re a swordsman?”

“Yes. I hope this-” He pats the sword sheath. “isn’t going to be a problem.”

“Normally, yes, but I let it slide. Just be careful to not flex that thing to the entire town. Anyway, enjoy your stay. I will be somewhere around if you need me.” With that, Y/N leaves, allowing Vergil to take time for himself.

-

Later that day, in the night, Vergil is in the outskirts of the town, training his sword technique. He does this everyday just to not get rusty. He doesn’t has a particular target, just swinging around with the correct stances. During the training, he notices a presence behind him. Swiftly, he turns around to put the sword to the targets next, just stopping before he could slice it. That’s when he sees Y/N, looking shocked.

“You shouldn’t sneak upon someone training with a weapon.” Vergil warns him, putting the blade away.

“Sorry.”

Vergil’s stoic face looks at the nervous man. “What is it that you want?”

“I was just curious.” Y/N sounds a bit better. “I never seen someone with your talent.” Vergil remains quiet, merely looking at him. That’s when the other man tries to think of something to talk about. Then he notices the sword. “You got a gorgeous sword. Katana, right?”

Vergil wanted to correct him that the sword isn’t any regular old katana, but he restrains himself. “Thank you for the complement.” There is another awkward silence between the two, making the swordman patient to tick. “Is there anything else you want to say?”

“Can I observe your technique?” Y/N requests. “There is something mesmerizing about how you move.”

Vergil thinks about it. He doesn’t have a particular reason why not to. “Sit on the side unless you want to be decapitated.”

“Thanks.”

And so, Vergil continues his training while the regular human is on the side, observing. The demon doesn’t really care for a couple of minutes, until a question bothers his mind.

“Do you do this to your other guests as well?”

“No. The other guest certainly doesn’t have any swords.” Y/N jokes, though Vergil doesn’t look amused, as he’s too focused on the training. “How long have been training?”

“My entire life.”

“That’s impressive.” Y/N complements him. “You must win gold every time you compete.”

“You could say that.” Vergil replies, though Y/N doesn’t know how to interpret his vague comment. Thus, Vergil stops and looks at Y/N. “I have someone that I want to defeat.”

“Really?”

“Yes. He’s, my brother.” Vergil coldly comments. He doesn’t really know why he’s telling this to a stranger, but it’s refreshing. “His skill rivals mine, and yet he doesn’t even care to take a second to hone it.”

“Is that why you’re travelling around?”

“Not specifically. I just want to be stronger in general.” Vergil comments. He wonders how a regular guy thinks about it. “What do you think about it?”

Y/N thinks about it. “Dunno. I find it admirable. Always eager to improve yourself, I mean.”

Vergil hums. “You’re on odd man.”

Y/N snickers. “Says you. You’re the one that trains in the middle of night.”

For whatever reason, trying to view things from Y/N eyes, he can’t help but chuckle at the thought of it. “I guess I can see why you think I’m odd.”

“Still, it’s just a regular thing for you.”

“Yes.” Vergil says with a smirk. He stops training to get his attention to the other man. “What about you? What’s your story?” It’s rare for Vergil to chat, or even talk with someone. Although he doesn’t have a desire to have people around him, talking to someone is nice in a while.

“Well, I work at the B&B. Lived at this town forever.” Vergil sits down next to the other man. “Honestly, it isn’t something special.”

Vergil wonders if he’s being humble or serious. “Does that bother you?”

“Kinda.” Y/N answers with honest. “I always fantasize having an adventurous life, though I’m kinda a coward. Still, one day I want to leave this place and take a look around the world. Maybe with a goal in mind, or not.”

“What keeps you not doing it?”

“Dunno. Maybe I’m just scared.”

Vergil hums. “For what’s worth, travelling the world broadens the mind. You need to be independent, as well a strong will and mind. Isolation isn’t something for everyone.”

“I didn’t take you as someone so wise.” Y/N wise. “Maybe perhaps I should travel with someone. That way, I can lean on them.”

“That would be a good start for you.” Vergil comments. “I would give an offer, but even if you think you want to, you will regret so.”

Y/N looks confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The journey I’m taking isn’t what regular people should take, for their safety.”

“Huh?” Y/N doesn’t fully get it, only understanding that it’s dangerous. “How dangerous can it be?”

“That depends. Days like these, nothing special happens, or I guess it is, depending how you like at things. Other days, I need to use my sword.” Vergil answers. Still, Y/N doesn’t fully get it. “How about I just say it. The enemies I’m fighting are demons.”

“Like from the Bible?”

Vergil chuckles. “More from the underworld.” He looks up at the starry night. “You see, I’m the son of an angle and a demon. There are worlds that aren’t for human eyes to see, but for me, they are. There, many mysteries are left to be discovered.”

Y/N looks doubtful. “I’m not sure I should take you literally or…”

Vergil looks back at the man. “I can show you my other form, but be warned, I only change appearance. Don’t think I’m going ‘eat you’ or something ridiculous.”

Y/N hums, allowing Vergil to change form, showing his dark skin with blue rays. He looks back at Y/N, who’s mouth hangs open. Then the demon changes back.

“You look stunned.”

“You say that like a normal guy should react like you’re normal.”

Vergil smirks. “Touché.” He looks up again. A soft yawn comes out of him. “Excuse me. I think it’s time to rest. I did enjoy the talk.”

“Me too.” Y/N still sounds a bit shaky. Both men stand up. Afterwards, they walk back to the town. “Why were you so interested to talk to me anyway?”

“While I do enjoy the isolation, there are times someone to talk to clears the mind.”

“You should do it more.”

“And let other’s imprint my demon form into their mind? I’m surprised you didn’t scream out of fear and ran away.” Vergil looks amused.

“I didn’t mean that…” Y/N replies. “Say, if you talk to the same person, you don’t have to share your secret to everyone.”

Vergil cocks his eyebrow. “You want to come with me? I already told you-”

“I know, I know. It’s dangerous, but how many times are you fighting against someone. And say you’re going to do something dangerous; can’t you just leave me somewhere safe or something.”

Vergil thinks about it. “And you’re willing to travel with a man you only met an our ago?”

“I guess I’m that bored of my current life.” Y/N says with a smirk. “Besides, we immediately got along. And it’s not like I’m a hyper extrovert that keeps talking to you.”

Vergil let out an amused hum. “I don’t have a problem with it. However, we have to set rules. When getting into danger, you stay behind. You don’t interfere with my training or other events.”

“I’m fine with that. So, are we going tomorrow?”

“I guess we are.”

-

Days has passed since that happened. Vergil never imagined himself travelling with a companion, especially someone that can’t even wield a sword. However, it has been pleasantly nice. Vergil could share his thoughts with someone that isn’t there to judge him.

Today, after exploring some old, demonic ruins, the demon walks back to the motel room he and his companion got. It’s nighttime, and so it’s time to rest. Once he gets in, he can see Y/N’s eyes laying up on him.

“And?”

“Nothing interesting.” Vergil responds. “No foes to fought, no old relics, no leads to follow.”

“Well, at least you know.” Y/N comments. He sits on the bed.

Vergil sits down next to him, putting the swords on next to him. “I had a feeling it was going to be a waste of my time. Still, you’re correct.” He looks besides him. “I hope you weren’t bored without my company.”

“I’m fine.” Y/N assures. “Actually, I’ve been reading that book you’re traveling with.”

“And? What do you think?”

“It’s hard to fully understand what it says.” Y/N chuckles. “I wasn’t the best with books to begin with.”

“That’s alright. Do you enjoy it?”

“Yes. I think I learn a bit more about you.” Y/N smiles, making Vergil smile.

“That’s good to know. Feel free to read it whenever you want. I can even read it for you, if you want.”

“That would be nice. A perfect bedtime story.” Y/N sarcastically comments.

“I would never imagine enjoy a human’s company. I wonder if others are the same, or if you’re just something special.”

“Oh, I’m something special.”

“Then I better keep a close eye on you.” Vergil leans further to the other man. “You’re still human, so fragile. And even though we met days ago, I can call you someone special to me. So, you’re ready to further explore this journey?”

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

(Aristocats AU. Adam and Lucifer meet for the first time. Most of it is just Lucifer flirting though XD)

Lucifer entered the countryside, singing a song on his guitar. He didn't expect much from this morning, honestly... he just wanted to get away from his overflown house with his 7 older siblings... but his luck seemed to turn when he hit near old barn, where he met a really cute guy...

As if to try his luck, Lucifer approached him. The other man chuckled, starting to clap his hands at the end of his song.

Adam : Oh, bravo. Quite a talent you've got there... 

Lucifer : Why. thank you! It's not often I come across audience in this part... And what might your name be?

Adam : My name is Adam.

Lucifer : Adam... as if the first man himself decided to grace me with his presence... 

He smiled at the other man, taking the brunette's hand, to kiss it.

Lucifer : My... and those eyes of yours. Ooh. your eyes are like gold, sparkling so bright. You know, they make the morning radiant... and light.

Adam blushed at the compliment, letting out a chuckle of his own, starting to wave his free hand over his face. God, when did that get so hot around here? He could swear he heard giggling from behind himself.

Adam : Oh, stop that... you're just saying that... but I must admit, it's very poetic, though it is not quite Shakespeare.

Lucifer, chuckled : Of course not. That's pure Morningstar, baby. Right off the cuff... I got a million of 'em.

Adam: Oh, no more, please. I need to concentrate at the moment... I've gotten myself into a quite a situation here...

Lucifer : Situation? Oh, then I just must help! Such a gorgeous man... uh, damsels in distress is my specialty! Now what's the trouble this gentleman was pulled into?

Adam : Well... to be fair, I have no idea how we ended up here, but my destination right now is to back to the town, back home... So if you would be willing and show me the way.

Lucifer : Show you the way?

Lucifer smiled, before taking the man's hand, pulling him closer.

Lucifer : Oh, perish the thought! We shall fly to your home on a magic carpet... side by side... with the stars as our guide. Just we two.

???? : Ooh, that would be wonderful!

Lucifer and Adam broke out from their moment, before looking down, seeing a small blonde girl staring at them with bright purple eyes.

Lucifer : Three?

Another girl, of same age, came out, but with nearly silver hair and blue eyes. She waved to Lucifer, giving him a cute smile.

Lucifer : Four..?

Last and third, a girl with short white hair came out, but her eyes were as if she was staring into Lucifer's soul.

Lucifer : Five?!

Adam looked at the girls, before chuckling over Lucifer's reaction.

Adam : Yes, Mr. Morningstar... These are my sisters. Please introduce yourselves, girls.

Lilith : Hi, I'm Lilith.

Emily : I'm Emily.

Lute : And I'm Lute.

Lucifer looked between the four, before smiling at the kids.

Lucifer : Oh, how sweet!

@adambrainrot

Wow Lucifer you charmer lol XD

I love this it's so cute!

[mae-gi-writes]

It’s (just so) awkward | jungkook - part three

No way. We’re too different and he’s so—so black and white. A straight-up yes-or-no kind of guy. And I’m not.”

PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART

———-

You had been momentarily blinded. A bit distracted.

That was the only reasonable explanation for you feeling as though you had a middle school crush on your high school friend. It should be the only reasonable explanation. There was nothing else that could explain it and you were glad to leave it at that.

That didn’t mean that his words went by unnoticed. That night after your small ice cream escapade had you turning and tossing in bed as you replayed Jungkook’s over and over again in your head like a broken cassette tape. He had every right to be mad at you, after all, for dissing his other good friend. Sara hadn’t done anything but be kind to you. You were the mean one, the asshole.

You couldn’t help it.

Which was why you made it a must to stay away as much as normally possible. And of course, Jungkook noticed. What did he not? It was as clear as day that you were preoccupying yourself on purpose just so that you wouldn’t have to accidentally bump into him or her on campus, ensuring that you knew his timetable by heart so that you could take another transportation slot.

You managed to keep up that small charade, until the Inter-College Sports Olympics came along.

Every university had to take part in the Sports Olympics without fail and since Jungkook had been a naturally good basketball player, had been recruited in playing for the team, along with Changbin and a few other boys from your cohort. You’d had no choice but to accompany a whiny Yoona and an excited Jimin to the games, and maneuvered through the horde of people to get to your assigned seats.

You were busy rustling through your bag for a tissue — your nose was running, no thanks to that stupidly cold weather — when you accidentally bumped into an elbow.

Turning, you started to apologize when the stranger just smiled at you and said, “don’t worry about it. Happens all the time.”

“Yeah sorry,” you felt bad for him, he seemed crammed in this tiny seat, “it’s always like this. I don’t understand what’s the big deal with these games.”

“To be honest, neither do I,” the stranger shook his head and grinned. He was gorgeous, you noticed, with a beautifully sculpted nose and dark lashes that framed his brown eyes, full lips that would make any girl jealous, “my name’s Taehyung. I’m majoring in engineering.”

Taehyung, you found, had come all the way from his tiny countryside town in hopes of making it big for the sake of his dying mother who had been attained by cancer last summer. When you’d tried to stumble through a series of condolences, he’d merely shook his head and brushed it off, saying that it was now part of his life and that there was nothing to feel sorry for.

“It’s something that just comes and goes, right?” He shrugged and you wondered whether he was just trying to pretend he was fine, wondered whether he locked himself behind closed doors to cry his heart out, “anyway, is there anyone you’re here for?”

To be honest, you weren’t focusing on the game at all. Rather, what the mysterious young man had to say seemed to be much more interesting, which was how you found yourself deep in discussion until Yoona’s firm grip on your arm brought you back to reality.

“He’s got it! He’s got the ball!”

Indeed, as you squinted to find Jungkook, you spotted the said dark-haired man practically flying through the court, the ball as if made to fit in his palm, before he twisted and soared, tossing it perfectly so that it gently slid into the net. Perfect.

The crowds broke into applause and cheers. You cried out his name and next to you, Taehyung chuckled as he clapped, “you know this guy?”

“We’re close friends since high school.”

The first opening match of the Sports Olympics came to an end with your university winning by twenty points. The crowd erupted with yells and cheers as they swarmed onto the court, players getting bombarded with attention and amidst it all, Sara going over to Jungkook with a grin so wide that you had to look away, for fear of your heart suddenly breaking in two.

“I’m going to wait outside by the car,” you mumble out to Yoona and slipped through the throng of people before she could even call out your name.

The air was crisp and cold outside, a good contrast to the heat permeating your skin. You breathed in, chest aching with some kind of unknown emotion as your palms fisted at your sides.

It was a weird feeling, the one that seemed to spread through your chest like a flame that wouldn’t die down no matter how much logic you poured over it in hopes of getting it to die down.

It licked and burned and hurt. And as you pressed your back against the cool surface of Jimin’s car, you wondered whether there was something that was seriously wrong with you.

This was Jungkook, and Sara was good for him. He deserved that much happiness.

So why couldn’t you just be happy for him?

”Y/N, there you are.”

Freezing, your eyes flew up to see none other than a dishevelled Jungkook still in his basketball jersey, sweat dotting his forehead and lips parted in a soft pucker, flushed with heat.

For a minute, you could only stare at him.

“What—“ the words blocked in your throat, “what are you doing here?”

He did that little nose scrunch that made his face turn decades younger, “I’m allergic to crowded places.”

“right.” You chuckled, “How could I forget?”

He stepped closer to you before leaning against the same vehicle, a soft sigh falling from his lips at the action.

“You played well,” you said in the comfortable silence, “thought you hated contact sports.”

“I do hate contact sports. There are so many germs on that basketball court,” he shuddered with a grimace, “but I had no choice. They didn’t have any players.”

“What a nice sense of duty you have.”

He pulled out his tongue at you in retaliation and you laughed, head thrown back as your eyes scrunched up at the night sky. Jungkook laughed along with you, his gaze holding an expression you couldn’t quite place which made you ask, “What?”

“I haven’t seen you laugh like this in a while,” he said bluntly, “it’s nice.”

“Ah,” that was true. It had been a rough few weeks of trying to come to terms with this newfound feeling about your best friend hat wouldn’t leave you alone. Jungkook had absolutely no idea how wrecked you were for him.

“About our conversation,” Jungkook suddenly spoke up, “you remember, when we spoke about Sara?”

You looked up at him, “yes.”

“Did I hurt your feelings?”

It was no use to lie. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry.” A pause. Then, “what did I say that hurt your feelings?”

“It was more how you said it. And to be honest, it was partly my fault, I was being mean—“

It was then that you noticed how close he was, so close you felt the warmth of his breath hit your skin and saw the small cracks in his lips. Your eyes flitted up to his, only to see him already gazing back at you with some sort of tenderness that made your insides quiver. Why was he looking at you like that?

“Jungkook?” You murmured out in the silence that fell, admiring the way his moles scattered across his face like stars, “what—“

“There you are!”

Both of you sprung apart like guilty teenagers, not quick enough to have escaped Jimin’s eyes as he stood before the car, “we were looking all over for you!” He didn’t hesitate to throw himself at the taller man, “congrats, bro! You rocked that court!”

“Thanks—“ Jungkook struggled and looked like he was about to be sick, patting Jimin’s back awkwardly as the rest of the group found their way to the cars. You turned away with hot cheeks, glad that it was only Jimin that caught you. You weren’t sure what exactly you’d be doing if Sara had been the one.

The rest of the evening was spent in Yoona’s single condo — paid by her father who was rich enough that he owned all the petrol companies in the country — with drinks and an assortment of snacks at the ready as more and more people piled in. It almost felt like she’d invited the whole cohort, which made you feel slightly uneasy knowing there were people around that you weren’t familiar with.

So you hid out on the terrace, gazing out at the city lights beyond while sipping your drink. It was where Changbin found you a few minutes later.

“Not your style?” He asked as he leaned against the railing.

You pulled a grimace, “yeah I don’t enjoy loud music much,” it was then that you realized he was actually here, “what are you doing here on a Saturday? Aren’t you supposed to be out partying your heart out? Why come to a stupid school party?”

“Believe it or not, your friend Yoona actually invited me,” he cocked his head at you with a small smile, “and to be honest, you and Jungkook have been a very interesting watch these days.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Whatever you want it to mean,” he shrugged before directing his gaze back towards the beautiful city lights in the distance, “so tell me, he’s still very much infatuated with miss ol’ goodie two shoes?”

“I don’t know and it’s none of my business.”

“Uh I disagree,” Changbin brushed his bangs out of his face, “it is very much your business whether you like it or not.”

“Changbin, I’m not here to talk about my love life,” you looked down at the pavement below as you felt your hair cascade across your shoulders, “so please don’t bring it up again, it’s hard enough trying to forget him.”

“Alright, fair enough.” He then reached down before producing two bottles of soju, “want to drink your sorrows away instead?”

That sounded strangely more appealing than anything else. So you agreed and decided to hell with everything.

——

“Jungkook, c’mon. Let’s go.”

The latter groaned, eyes still shut as he leaned against one of Yoona’s million-dollar leather couches. Your friend could say bye bye to her lovely flat value if Jungkook decided to empty the insides of his stomach all over this place.

So you tugged at his arm again, and again, and again, until his eyes managed to peel open.

“Y/N?” His voice was slurred and there was no doubt that he’d been drinking a little too much. Especially for Jungkook.

It was almost adorable. Almost being the key word.

“Come on,” you reached down, tugging at his arm to pull him up as Sara came over with a glass of water.

“Here,” she gave it to Jungkook, who merely shook his head and pushed it away, “don’t wanna,” he grumbled, stumbling towards you in the process.

He was a tall man, and not a lean one at that. It was a challenge to balance him as he threw his entire bodyweight onto you like you were his only source of strength. You noticed, in the corner of your eye, the rest of the party being ushered out by Yoona.

You looked back at Jungkook struggling to stay on his feet, nudged at him to take the drink, “drink it,” you said it like an order, to which he shook his head.

“Drink. It.” You repeated firmly.

“No,” he moaned and did the most surprising thing; buried his face into the crook of your neck. He murmured out like a child, “don’t want to.”

Your body was frozen, unsure what to do with this now clingy man-child hanging off you in front of both his supposed crush (and hopeful girlfriend) and the rest of your friend group.

“Uhm,” you tried to shove him off awkwardly.

No response.

He merely tightened his hold and mumbled some more incoherent things under his breath, “Jungkook, come on. Stop being a baby—“

“You smell good,” his mumble, a brush of his lips against your skin, threw you off guard, caused your heart to go into a mini panic attack.

“Right, uhm— I think we should bring him home. Y/N?” Jimin looked at you pleadingly and you nodded, glad when Changbin took the initiative to call an uber. You didn’t even have time to check whether Sara had been offended by your beat friend’s behaviour since you were all too busy trying to drag the latter’s weight down the stairs.

Thank god for Changbin and Jimin’s help, who even paid the driver in advance as you climbed in and muttered out Jungkook’s flat address. The said young man, currently sprawled across the backseat, seemed to have fallen into a fitful sleep which you hoped wouldn’t last. You needed to get him to his bed, after all. Or at least beyond his front door.

You’d never actually gone into Jungkook’s flat before, so this was a first. He was thankfully awake enough to allow himself to be dragged up the stairs upon arrival, encouraged by your hand wrapped around his waist while his was draped over your neck.

“Jungkook,” you called out to him upon reaching his front door, breathless and sweaty, with your hair sticking to the sides of your face, “key.”

He mumbled, head lolling into the curve of your neck once more. You nudged him, so that he could repeat, “back pocket.”

You fished it out none too gently, careful not to touch anything else and glad he wasn’t sober to see the blush on your face as you managed to unlock his front door.

His flat, you found, was bare without anything too personal. You struggled to turn on the lights in the corner wall, only to be met with white washed walls and white furniture to match, a few black details highlighting the space. A couch sat in the left corner, its cream overlay torn at the edges, and on the right was a tiny kitchenette with an assortment of sauces lined up so neatly you wouldn’t be surprised if Jungkook had measured it out with a ruler.

But this was not the time to think of that. You had a drunk man on your hands, one that seemed overly fond to cuddle you to death.

You managed to find his bedroom — not a hard feat, considering that it was the only door available at the end of the room — and pulled Jungkook along until you practically hauled his body onto his bed.

He curled into his blanket, as though he knew he was now surrounded by comfort, and the sight was surprisingly so tender that it made your heart skip a beat.

You managed to get him some water and was glad when he moved closer to you as you called out his name. Using one hand to tilt his head back, you held the cup to his lips and watches as he took in a few sips.

“Good,” you noted, taking the cup away when he turned his head. You set the cup aside and took a seat at the end of his mattress, “how are you feeling?”

“Like…” he drawled out the words, still influenced by the alcohol, clearly, “—shit.”

“Yeah,” you grimaced, placing two tylenols that you had found digging into his shelves a few moments ago onto his nightstand, “take two of these when you wake up tomorrow.”

“Mm, yeah.”

“Since when do you drink so much?”

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered open then, only to meet yours, “I think I went overboard.”

“No shit sherlock.”

A guttural groan fell from his mouth. He turned, fingers clasping your wrist before tugging you to the bed. You stumbled and almost fell smack onto Jungkook’s chest, eyes widening at the reduced proximity as his other arm wrapped around your waist to pull you even closer.

Your skin lit on fire, “J—Jungkook,” you breathed, unsure of how you got into this position, “what—what are you doing?”

But Jungkook seemed to be lost in his own world. He didn’t answer you in favour of nuzzling into the crook of your neck and throwing a leg over your frame like you were his favourite teddy bear. Your heart almost gave out at the lack of proximity, wishing that you could just roll away without him noticing, but his grip was hard as iron and even as you tried to push his chest away, there was a soft murmur of protest brushing againt your cheek.

“Don’t.”

And then, as though he needed to insist upon this point, he added, “please.”

That was when you felt it. The softest pressure of lips. Against your nape.

You stifled a gasp. Your body tensed beneath his.

You wished your body wasn’t as receptive, wished that you didn’t melt so easily in his hold as euphoria exploded behind your lids.

“Jungkook,” you were breathless as you felt another kiss, “Jungkook, And another. One on your collarbone. One under your jaw, every dot of warmth from his mouth causing fireworks to explode and your skin to warm like you were suddenly thrust right into a campfire.

This was too much. He was too much.

Your hands tightened into fists on instinct, heart leaping to your throat.

He kept on kissing you. Over and over again. All over your skin, as if all the limits suddenly didn’t exist in the cracks of your friendship. His mouth was everywhere; your jaw, your cheek, and now landing right at the corner of your mouth.

That was the moment his eyes fluttered open, meeting your wide ones. His gaze was drugged and hazy, but there was something else swirling there, something you couldn’t place your finger on. And the more you gazed at him, the closer he seemed to get to you until his nose brushed yours tenderly.

Were you going to allow yourself this little bite of heaven? Were you really going to break all the rules just for a few seconds of ecstasy to know how it felt like to kiss Jungkook?

Your sweet, sweet friend that seemed to have stolen your heart and kept it for himself. Your sweet, sweet friend Jungkook, who was looking at you like you were the only star in his sky.

You swallowed thickly, heart clenching at the thought that this would change things forever. You would not be able to get out of this room unscathed and you had to admit the thought scared you. And what about Jungkook? Was he sober enough to understand what he was doing?

“Y/N.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, heart skipping a beat at the dark intensity of his jet black eyes.

You felt a hand trickle along your hip. He squeezed softly, tugged you closer, before his other hand trailed up to grasp the side of your face.

“Jungkook, how drunk on you? On a scale of one to ten,” the words rushed out of you in hopes of breaking the sudden tension that had taken over the room.

He took a ragged breath, “a five.”

“Right. So—uhm, I’ll just go find a water bottle to place by your bed—“

He didn’t give you time. His arm pulled you at the same time that he dove forward before he pressed his lips to yours.

Jungkook kissed you. And you knew that everything was going to change.

NEXT PART

———-

[finelinevogue]

hot summer nights

summary - a warm summers evening with your one and only

word count - >1k

Summer had finally arrived. In Autumn.

August had rolled into September and everyone was preparing for wet weather, thunderstorms and miserable grey clouds.

So it was a surprise to everyone when the sun decided to come out and the temperatures decided to shoot up to the high 20s in the first week of September.

And good weather meant only one thing in the UK; beer garden.

You and Harry were currently getting ready to go, having texted the group chat of your closest friends for you to all meet at ‘The Rose Inn’ at 6PM.

Harry had decided to have a shower, dragging you in behind him even though you really didn’t need one. He just couldn’t keep you away from him for too long.

After you, too long, shower, Harry started looking for an outfit whilst you dried your hair.

Harry offered to finish drying the rest off for you whilst you started on your makeup, knowing how much you hate being late. Your makeup would’ve been done faster if Harry hadn’t been stood behind you with just a towel around his waist.

The both of you cleaned up very nicely.

Harry was wearing some beige linen trousers, a white t-shirt and a baby blue cardigan, whilst you wore a gorgeous baby pink dress that had a floral pattern on. Both of you looked summer ready.

“Babe! Let’s go!” You shouted to Harry, who was nowhere to be seen since about half an hour ago.

You pulled your pink Stompers, yes you call them Stompers, out of the shoe cupboard and slip them on, knowing that Harry will already be wearing his and you can match.

You go to the mirror in the hallway and readjust your hair that’s slipping out of place already.

This stupid heat.

You walked into the kitchen to grab some snacks in case you got hungry, before returning to the hallway.

“H?” You called out again. “C’mon let’s go!”

You looked at your phone and noticed you were already running ten minutes late. If you were another ten minutes late then you might as well not go.

The sound of the back door shutting caught you off guard and you suddenly understood where he had been.

You heard the sound of jingles before you saw anything. You crouched down on the floor in preparation for your Cavapoo to bound up to you and give you lots of kisses.

“Hello!” You said in your dog voice as Fred rounded the corner. Fred, Freddie, Frederick - whatever you wanted to call him - was your two year old Cavapoo that Harry had bought you to keep you company when he was on tour.

“Hello there my gorgeous little baby.” You entertained Fred as you heard Harry walk through the kitchen towards you.

When he emerged, you felt your breath hitch a little.

He looked so good.

You had seen him half an hour ago and he still looked the same, but damn did he look good. There was something about him today that made you just want to stick to him like a koala bear would a tree. He looked so soft and… yours.

“What?” He asked, looking down at where you were looking up at him.

“Nothing, just… admiring you.”

“Okay, alright.” He smiled with a heavy blush, “Let’s go before I turn red.”

“You already are red.”

“Shut up and move your cute arse.” He giggled, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes.

Harry attached Fred’s lead onto his harness and handing you over the leash, as the two of you made your way outside.

The pub wasn’t that far away from you two, so walking was the easiest option for getting there. Of course, you do live in the countryside so you have to hurdle some styles and dodge some cows, but the country walks are always your favourite.

The air is fresh and clean and the world feels a little bit more yours out here. You’re in control and Harry is too. You can decide your own choices.

Then again, you are only a twenty minute drive into London if you want to be.

Fred enjoyed the walk as much as you did. Harry walked alongside you, walking on the outside of the pavement when he needed to and he held your hand the entire time. Even when you were both getting a little clammy from the heat, he just moved to holding one finger of yours instead.

“Mrs Brown came over this morning, did I tell you?” Harry said, as you were a few minutes away from approaching the pub.

“What? When I went shopping?” You asked, being forced to stop by Fred who was sniffing for something amongst the grass.

“Yeah. She offered to bake us some strawberry tarts for your birthday party. I said yes, obviously.”

“We’re going to have so many desserts, H.” You laughed.

“Yeah, but mums bringing pizzas and pasta salads remember? And I think Gem is making some sort of vegan Greek dish. We’ll be fine.”

Harry kissed your forehead to keep you from stressing, before shouting to Fred to hurry up.

“Can you make your treacle pudding too?” You asked shyly.

“Just for you, though.” Harry nodded.

“Just for me.” You hummed in delight. “Ah, it’s going to be a good birthday.”

“Our fifth one of yours together.”

“Really? I’ve put up with you for that long? Wow.” You teased.

Harry tugged on your hand for you to stop, pretending to scoff and then pulling you against his chest tightly so you couldn’t escape. He kissed you then and there, on the side of the road, like you both had no tomorrow. One hand around your waist and the other still attached to your hand.

Both of you melted into one another and neither pulled away first. You both had to move, though, when Fred started getting restless and excited over his parents together.

“Never stop doing that.” You smiled up at him with stars in your eyes.

“What?” He smiled back.

“Surprising me. Kissing me.” You pecked his lips again for a short moment. “Loving me.”

“It’s not even possible to think about.” Harry meant it as he kissed you again, softly.

The summer breeze chose this moment to blow and it made your hair blow like crazy. Your dress blew with it and you noticed Harry’s cardigan flap open a little too. It looked like some shot out of a perfume photoshoot.

Harry helped you straighten out your dress and reorganise your hair, before kissing you again.

[missmielyhoran]

Stages of love

How Harry and Y/N were before Stages of grief

[Warning- Fucked up timeline]

Face claim- Lily James

Masterlist // Series Masterlist

Late 2015

Liked by Harryfan2, Y/NCinderella, Harryfan1 and 86,099 others

StylesUpdate 'Cinderella' actress Y/N Monet seen at Harry's concert then them leaving together.

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Harryfan2 NO FUCKING WAY

Harryfan3 She was with her son and ex, they were dancing together whole time🥺

Harryfan1 Wait with her ex are they together or she's with Harry?

Harryfan3 I mean her and Harry simply could just be friends

Harryfan2 the way he's holding her? Naah

Early 2016

Liked by Yourmom, harrystyles, Y/Nfan3 and 2,986,125 others

Yourinstagram 26 babyyy🍾

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Harryfan1 Happy birthday queen🥳

Y/Nfan3 Milfff🤤

TaylorSwift Happy birthday mon❤️

Yourinstagram Thank you Tay😘

Harryfan3 I want to be her🥺also Happy birthday babe

harrystyles Prettiest girl out there💕

Yourinstagram you flatter me baby🫣

Harryfan2 get.a.room.

harrystyles we did

Liked by Harryfan2, Harryfan4, Y/Nfan2 and 75,008,124 others

StylesUpdate Harry at Y/N's 26th birthday party he threw for her.

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Y/Nfan2 He was drunk out his mind💀

Harryfan1 both were😂

Harryfan3 He threw her a birthday party🥺

Y/Nfan1 I love them together😍

Harryfan4 and the way he's good with her son too and they hang out😭

Harryfan1 Mom and dad!

2017

On twitter-

DailyMail Former One Direction member Harry Styles and Cinderella actress Y/N Monet have reportedly tied the knot in secret near french countryside after just by dating for more than a year.

1M Likes 9.1k retweets 5.2k Quote retweets 11k comments

Harryfan2 OMFG AHHDJSBSB

Y/Nfan1 I never took Harry as someone who would tie down so early but oh well

Harryfan1 I'm literally shaking omg congratulations to them😭

Harryfan3 That means Harry is Em's stepdad...stepdadrryyy!!😍

Randomuser how is this relevant?

Liked by Annetwist, Yourmom, Harris_reed and 8,252,004 others

harrystyles 25.03.2017 ❤️💍

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Harryfan1 Bet that necklace costs more than my existence

Annetwist Congratulations kids🥳

Harryfan2 I still can't wrap my head around her, not being natural blonde

Yourinstagram mon éternité❤️

Liked by harrystyles

GemmaStyles Only best decision my dumbass brother has made

harrystyles I agree

Y/Nfan4 She looks so gorgeous😍❤️

Liked by Harryfan4, GemmaStyles, Jeffazoff and 7,92,567 others

Yourinstagram Mon bébé, mon amour, mon mari. Je vous aimerai pour toujours. 25.03.2017❤️💍

(My baby, my love, my husband. I will love you forever)

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harrystyles mon ange❤️

Harryfan1 Did you guys see the pics her best friend posted on her story😭

Y/Nfan3 omg yes😭

Harryfan1 Em was his best man I can't-

Y/Nfan3 They both ate the wedding looks🤌

Harryfan3 people- don't upstage the bride- Harry- wears white💀

Late 2018

Liked by Yourinstagram, Annetwist, Harryfan2 and 9,259,485 others

harrystyles Behind the album. Out.Now

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Harryfan3 Petition for Harry to stop giving us heart attack

Harryfan1 I was ugly crying and I'm not ashamed of it

Y/Nfan2 I just know that baby will be gorgeous asf

Harryfan2 yeah greek god summat

Liked by Harryfan2, Y/Nfan3, randomuser and 98,765,123 others

StylesUpdate Harry was seen out with his daughter, who was reportedly born a month ago.

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Harryfan1 Girl dad harry supremacy!

Harryfan4 he looks so happy🥺

Harryfan3 Where is Y/N? Shouldn't she also be with him?

Y/Nfan2 Probably at home resting. Postpartum his hard and I think he's very capable of taking care of his own daughter

Harryfan2 I'm dying to know what's her name😭

Mid 2019

Liked by harrystyles, PillowPerson, Y/Nfan3 and 9,245,897 others

Yourinstagram Amie Monet-Styles

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Annetwist Look at her huge hat. Bless her😂❤️

Yourinstagram yeah she almost fell from the weight of it but wouldn't let us take it off

harrystyles my adorable baby

FlorencePudge Oh my gosh she's adorable

Y/Nfan2 Her tiny hands🥺

GemmaStyles @/yourbestie Our god daughter💗

Comments on this post are limited.

*****

Taglist- @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @jvsgnjrtpdar5stkd-tv-m @sunshinemoonsposts @lilsiz @kaverichauhan

if your name is in orange sorry I couldn't tag you

I hope this fits as an apology for making you huys weight for Stages of grief🧍🏻‍♀️❤️

I love you, drink some water

You can talk to me here♡

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: in the house we remain

Aziraphale buys a quiet cottage in the middle of the English countryside. It is perfect in every way: old-style, quaint, surrounded by wilderness, with a small water feature in the back and a price to rival that of any other property he's seen. He is in love from the moment he sees it. But when a mysterious set of books, all written by unknown author A.J. Crowley, appears on his book shelf, Aziraphale begins to wonder if there is perhaps more to this house than he'd originally believed. The truth can be buried, but it cannot stay hidden forever.

Length: 48,334 words

AO3 Rating: Mature / Spice Level 🔥

Best for: Mostly Safe in Public, At Home, Angst, Human AU

Triggers: Major Character Death

Read it here, fic by commodorecliche

*Minor Spoilers* This story of Aziraphale falling in love with a ghost is one of the most gripping and beautiful stories I've ever read. It is such a powerful piece of fiction. Seamlessly blending romance with mystery and horror. Get your tissues, settle in, this one will haunt you.

Aziraphale has just moved to a cozy cottage in the countryside. If he's hearing things, feeling weird drafts, and noticing things out of place, well, that's just him settling in. Soon, there will be no denying the strange events, and it starts with a set of unpublished books written by an AJ Crowley. The previous, deceased, owner of the house.

This is heartbreaking. It's grief pools over everything. As Aziraphale learns more about the entity who haunts his cottage you will start to grieve as well. The way they begin to communicate was so thrilling and the softest romance. On one hand, we know they're soulmates and belong together despite any obstacle. On the other, it's a tragedy and horrifying. It's gorgeous and grotesque.

It's mostly safe in public, but an at home read for me. If you were destroyed by All of Us Strangers, I think you'll want to check this out. But mind the tags and warnings, there is graphic descriptions of death and major character death. Technically a happy ending? But that's a grey area in itself. I'd love to know how you guys feel about this ending actually

Read it here, fic by commodorecliche

P.S Spoilers under the cut because I want to scream about this story so come back once you've read this

I literally started crying when Aziraphale discovers what was tucked into the attic, the way Crowley was never appreciated as an author was so painful!! Crowley's death destroyed me!! The scene of the water splashing and Aziraphale trying to save him??? Only to come inside and see him?? THE ART???? This one has got me UNWELL.

But also what a horror! Aziraphale never experiencing a full life with Crowley, never knowing the physical touch of a person for what was it 40 years?? That's both romantic and devastating.

UGH I will never get over the scene of Aziraphale watching Adam discover his body. It made my blood run cold. And how Crowley had to watch over his decaying body as well. FUCK this one is so insanely good and how can I explain that to a normie? Hm? Yeah this human au of my blorbos falling in love even though one of them is a ghost literally had me crying screaming and throwing up and this is a normal thing for me

My views on the ending? I think I lean on the horror end of the scale. Yes they are together, but stuck watching over every new owner of the house, still never getting to experience a real life together. What a powerful concept! And I love the different interpretations available.

[cod-dump]

I headcanon that Ghost has a motorcycle and Soap adores sitting in the backseat wrapping his arms around Ghost

ABSOLUTELY!!

Ghost definitely has an old Harley (like a 2002 Yamaha FJR1300 because they are gorgeous AND are a two seater 😉) that he takes real good care of. I like to think the bike belonged to his brother and he treasures that bike because of it! He rarely let’s anyone else ride on it and the fact that Soap gets to is a HUGE honor. The first time they rode together on the bike they were still just friends then. Soap didn’t want to make Ghost uncomfortable so he held onto the seat. Then Ghost decided to be cheeky and pick up speed.

Soap wrapped his arms around Ghost’s middle and pressed his face between his shoulder blades (yea they’re riding without helmets which is bad but for the point of the story they’re not)— Ghost was hooked on Soap holding him. After the terrifying experience was over Soap swore to never ride the bike again… Then Ghost asked him if he wanted to go hang out and he said yes without even having to think. This time he didn’t wait for Ghost to start driving crazy, he just wrapped his arms around him and told him he liked to get to where they were going in one piece.

But even after a couple dozen rides, with Ghost driving actually decent Soap still held onto him. He would say it was because he didn’t trust Ghost’s driving but in reality it was just a excuse to hold onto him. Ghost LOVES how Soap hangs onto him. On a cool Summer evening, riding in the countryside with Soap holding onto him— That’s how he would describe paradise.