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beenbaanbuun · 2 months ago

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hierarchy w/ poly hohong

words - 3.1k

genre - smut

warnings - dom!yunho, akita hybrid!yunho, soft dom!hongjoong, human hongjoong, sub!reader, unknown dog hybrid!reader, mentions of past abuse, mentions of scars (from fighting), reader is a brat, cunnilingus

i wrote this ages ago and idk if i like it or not but rather than sitting and stressing about that, i decided to post it instead 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

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your dinner looks entirely unappealing as you push it round the plate with your fork. the peas are an unsettling shade of green and as they float upon the thin layer of gravy at the bottom of your dish, your stomach can’t help but churn a little. it’s nothing like the instant ramen and microwave meals your old owner used to feed you, and for that reason you simply won’t touch it.

there’s a sigh from across the table and you lift your gaze to see where it’s coming from. you’re met with two pairs of eyes, both of them equally as fed up at the other. there’s hongjoong, staring you like you’re the sole reason for everything bad in his life, and there’s yunho, watching with a tight jaw and hungry eyes. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think that the giant akita-hybrid is more seconds away from jumping your bones and taking you right there and then. you’d be lying to yourself if you said the idea doesn’t appeal to you. it just so happens that you are an exceptional liar.

“you haven’t touched your food,” hongjoong sighs as he lifts a hand up to brush over his tired expression. the so-called ‘experienced hybrid trainer’ is clearly losing his patience with you, although you’re not entirely sure why. you’re not even trying to be a nightmare; he should see you when you’re not on your best behaviour.

“i don’t like it,” you reply, putting your fork down just so you can fold your arms petulantly over your chest. yunho scoffs, his muscular arms shifting until his position mirrors yours.

“how do you know you don’t like it if you won’t even try it?” he says in the same tone he’d use if he were talking to a child. you can’t help but scoff that that; you’re not a child.

hongjoong reached over to place a hand on yunho’s arm. it’s a silent direction for him to be quiet and let hongjoong do the talking. he is your owner after all; a sentiment that fills you with a strange mixture of sadness and annoyance. you were perfectly fine in your old home. you didn’t have to be ‘rescued’ from them and you certainly didn’t have to be rehomed here.

“i know what i like,” you spit as you push the plate away from you, not even blinking an eye as gravy spills over the edge onto the mural painted upon the top of the wooden table. you’d found out on your first day here that yunho had painted it for hongjoong upon his one-year anniversary of being adopted; you hope you won’t be around here long enough to even think about doing something so utterly pathetic.

honestly, as yunho growls and lays his fluffed up ears flat against his skull, you can’t imagine him doing something so pathetic. all you see now is a highly trained attack dog, nothing like the precious puppy that hongjoong makes him out to be. you almost cower in your seat as he glares at you, but you’ve faced far worse than being pinned by an overgrown akita—you have the scars to prove it too.

“please, hyung,” he begs, voice far too soft to be coming from such a dangerous looking individual. “please let me put her in her place,” his eyes flicker down your form as another growl makes it way up his throat, “pups like her need structure; they need to know their position in the hierarchy.”

hongjoong hums, clearly contemplating it. obviously they’ve had this discussion about you before and whilst the thought of them talking about you behind your back makes you more than a little moody, you can’t help but feel like this has some deeper implications. does it mean that they’re planning on keeping you around? if they want to establish your place in this made-up hierarchy they seem to have, then surely they’re not planning on getting rid of you any time soon. your tail flicks in annoyance at that revelation.

“are you sure, yunho?” the hybrid nods and hongjoong resigns all too quickly for him to not have already been considering it. “fine; we can try it your way.”

and just like that, yunho’s expression transforms. the snarl on his lips changes from one of annoyancs to one of authority. you feel like a disobedient pup getting put in its place by an overbearing adult; one that doesn’t know the meaning of the word mercy. you suck in a shaky breath, the anxiety of facing the unknown becoming far too apparent. you’re the only one at this table who has no idea what’s going to come, and that frightens you to no end.

yunho stands up and stalks his way around the table. it takes an annoyingly short amount of steps for him to reach you, and once he does he wastes no time in grabbing your jaw with one huge hand. it tugs at your face until your neck is bent at an uncomfortable angle and your gaze is on his face. his pupils flicker over your expression, searching for any signs of discomfort or fear. you’re anxious, sure. uncertain, absolutely. but scared? not at all. you’ve been through worse and once you’re out of here, you’re almost positive you’ll go through worse again.

he leans down until his face is mere inches from your own. the smirk has fallen, morphed into something far more serious. he inhales, deep and calm and you can’t help but try and mirror it. it never twigs that his intention is exactly that; to soothe you before whatever is yet to come. if you were more aware of what he was doing, perhaps it would’ve made you spiral further. why would he want your defenses lowered?

“puppy,” he says in a tone deep enough to send a shiver down your spine, “i need you to remember that what is going to happen isn’t out of your control; if you don’t like it, you tell us. it shouldn’t be difficult for you. you’re good at telling us exactly what you don’t like, hm?”

“what’s going to happen?” you ask, your voice probably the least defiant it’s been since stepping through the doors of hongjoong’s home.

“you’ll find out sooner or later ,” he says with a soft smile, “now be a good puppy and wait upstairs in hongjoong’s room, alright?”

you furrow your brows. hongjoong’s room? you’ve never been allowed in there before. it was one of the rules that was set in place when you first arrived here. ‘hongjoong’s room is his, your room is yours. stick to your own space unless it’s an emergency.’ you remember it very clearly and it’s one of the ones you’ve tried your hardest to stick to. privacy is something you appreciate and hongjoong respects yours. the least you can do is return the favour.

“i’m not allowed in there,” you state the fact as though it’s law. to you, it practically is, “i’d be breaking the rules.”

“says the little brat who’s been stealing our possessions for her nest since the first day you got here. what, you’ll steal my ratty old sweaters but you won’t go in my room?” hongjoong’s smile is apparent in his voice. he sounds fond, for some reason, as if he hasn’t just—rightfully—accused you of stealing from him. “it’s okay to break the rule this once, sweet thing. i give you my explicit permission, okay?”

yunho gives you a smug smile. it’s a small ‘i told you so,’ even though you hardly think the situation is worth it. it’s not like you were trying to avoid whatever fate awaits you in hongjoong’s room—although maybe a little—you were simply trying to stick to the one rule you actually believe in! in a childish huff, you stick your tongue out. that ought to show him…

“cute,” he chuckles, “now do what you’re told, alright? go upstairs and wait on hongjoong’s bed,” a few seconds tick by as you contemplate whether or not you want to resist him even more. on one hand, you’re still anxiously unaware of what’s to come, but on the other, you’re almost positive things will get worse if you don’t comply. sure, yunho told you that you’re the one in control, but you really don’t feel it. no, this time it’s better to obey than to be a brat.

you push yourself to your feet, slowly enough to allow yunho to straighten up too. there’s a pleased hum fall from his lips as he scans you up and down, honing in on the small details. the way your speckled ears twitch nervously atop your head, the way your fluffy tail tucks itself between your legs, and most importantly, the way you subtly bare your neck in a subconscious show of submission. he knows it’s more of a safety thing than anything; the scars that litter your body tell him that you’ve learned how to stay safe the hard way. it hurts a little, but it’s a start. it shows him that you know you should submit; now he just has to make it so you submit because you want to, not just because you feel it’s necessary.

you side step him, careful not to brush past him accidentally. shaky legs guide you to the stairs, the anxiety of what's to come mixing with the knowledge that you’re being watched, studied, by the two men that are in charge of your fate. it’s safe to say that you’re grateful to finally get your hand on the banister that leads up the stairs. without it, you can almost guarantee that you’d have tripped and fallen.

the seconds tick by as you climb them and make your way towards the room at the end of the corridor. perhaps it’s your nerves that make it seem as though the door is getting endlessly farther and farther away with each step you take closer. it seems so far, almost like you’ll never reach it. step after step and still you’re not there yet. it gives your brain too much time to think, filling itself with ‘what if?’ questions and worse case scenarios.

until, of course, you do reach it, and then everything seems like its come to fruition all too quick. you suck in an anxious breath, placing your hand on the doorknob and counting to five before pushing it open and forcing your feet to carry you to your doom…

but it doesn’t feel like you’ve reached your doom in here; it’s far too cosy for that. in fact, it’s safe to say that you’ve probably never seen a room quite like this one, littered with soft colours and warm blankets, plants hanging from every surface and some even dangling from the ceiling. it’s a far-cry from everything you’ve ever seen before and yet it makes so much sense. hongjoong had been so eager to fill your room with things when you first arrived, none of which you’ve bothered to unpack. you told him you didn’t need them since you were certain you wouldn’t be around for long. the man had insisted upon buying you more and more until the pile of unused blankets and soft furnishings in the corner of your room could be arranged into some sort of seat that you sometimes use as a change of scenery from your bed. you didn’t understand why he wanted your room to have ‘warmth’ but now you see it; you’d be happy to spend an eternity in this room.

in some sort of giddy haze, you stumble to the bed and sit upon it, just like yunho had instructed. that pit at the bottom of your stomach is still very much there, but as your thighs sink into his soft quilt and your fingers spread themselves across the soft cotton, you find that the awe you feel is far more prevalent than your nerves right now. again, if you took the time to think about it, it might have made you panic more. the odd sense of security you feel from this room should have left you utterly terrified, and yet there you sit, a small smile upon your lips as you let the comfort of the room wash over you.

but just as fast as you made yourself at home, it’s all torn away from you. the door clicks open once more and everything positive you'd briefly felt is torn away in seconds. socked feet fall heavily against the wooden floor, followed by a softer step that you can only assume to be the smaller of the two men. your breath shudders as they grow closer, hitching when a large hand once again finds its way to your chin and pulls at it until there’s nowhere to look but yunho.

“you’re a good puppy at heart, aren’t you?” he purrs as he strokes your cheek. in your peripheral you see hongjoong crawl his way onto the bed and up to the headboard. “i know it’s hard when all you’ve known is neglect, but you deserve to have a family. you just need to learn your place.”

the hand slips from your cheek down to your shoulder and with a gentle shove, pushes you back against the mattress. your body is pushed and pulled into position until you’re lay exactly where they want you, head resting on one of hongjoong’s thighs and your legs spread just wide enough for yunho to slip between them on his knees. hongjoong wastes no time in lacing his fingers through your hair, nails catching against the base of your ear. it’s been a long time since anyone has scratched your ears like that and the sensation has your eyes fluttering shut. he chuckles at your satisfaction and while normally that would earn someone a harsh nip to whatever exposed skin you can access, you let it rest for now.

“remember, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he scratches your scalp, “this is all up to you,” yunho’s hands make their way to the waistband of your shorts, fingers dipping just below the hemline. it’s enough to have your breath hitching in your throat, and while you know you can stop this, you don’t. not because you feel like you can’t, but because you don’t want to. not yet, anyway. perhaps curiosity killed the cat, but it’s been so long since you’ve been touched like this.

besides, satisfaction brought it back.

yunho hums in agreement as he begins to tug gently on the fabric, catching your underwear with his fingers as they make their way down past your hips. “if you want me to stop, you tell me,” the air of the room is cold as it hits your exposed pelvis, and it sends a shiver down your spine as yunho lifts your hips to pull them past the swell of your ass. it’s a little uncomfortable when your wetness is uncovered but yunho is quick to remedy that with a swift kiss to your clit. it’s enough to make you moan a little, but it’s gone just as soon as it’s there. half of you is tempted to buck your hips up in a silent request for more, but you figure your safety is more important than your pleasure. you press your hips back down to the bed.

it takes him very little time to completely tug your shorts free from your legs, tossing them somewhere vaguely behind him. they thud as they hit the ground, but he has no interest in seeing where they went; not when your naked lower half is spread out on the bed for him. he tries to ignore the scars on your thighs, simply smoothing his hands over the remnants of your previous life. they don’t matter anymore, anyway. you’ll never have to fight ever again.

he lets his hands travel to the apex of your thighs, your pussy waiting, ready for him to take as his own. he must be doing something right since it’s already practically dripping. all he wants is to lean forwards and taste it, but he hesitates, gaze travelling to your face first.

“can i?” he raises a brow in question.

“can you what?” you respond.

“taste you, puppy,” you eye him up suspiciously, not quite sure why he’s asking you that. he wanted you to submit, didn’t he? so why is he asking for permission to take what he wants from you? “i want to taste you.”

“yes, but—”

“the answer’s yes?” yunho cuts you off, hands massaging your thighs heavily. there’s a sly look on his face, one that tells you you’re in for more than you you bargained for; more than just saying ‘yes’ to a simple question. you swallow thickly as you nod. “good,” he says, “now ask for it like a good puppy.”

you tip your head to the side curiously, your ears flopping as you shift your position on hongjoong’s thigh. there’s a chuckle from the otherwise quiet man, and with a quick flick of his wrist, your ear is back where it’s supposed to be.

“ask?” he nods.

“like a good puppy,” you feel a shiver run down your spine as his hand brushes against the length of your tail, not stopping until it reaches the base. he tugs upon it gently a couple of times. it’s annoying and anyone else wouldn’t have gotten away with it. you’re not exactly in a position to fight, though, so you let him tease you in the most childish of ways hoping that when all this is over you find an opportunity to tug on his tail instead. “like hongjoong always tells you; don’t tell,” he tugs, “don’t take,” he tugs again, “ask. politely.”

you grit your teeth, “can you?”

“can i what?” he leans in close, breath fluttering against your wet folds as he spurs you on. he’s so close to giving you what you want; a single buck of your hips would brush your aching clit up against his nose. you could get what you want if you really tried hard enough, but somehow you know it won’t end well for you.

“can you eat my pussy?” your words come out defeated and sad, and you have the expression to match. hongjoong coos from behind your head, fingers moving swiftly against your scalp to try and help you feel better about your surrender to yunho. it doesn’t quite work as well as when the hybrid lays his tongue flat against your slit and obscenely slurps up your juices.

“now you’re getting the hang of it, puppy,” hongjoong says, voice sweet and caring like it always is, “all you ever have to do is ask.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez smut #poly ateez x reader #poly ateez smut #poly ateez #poly!ateez #yunho x reader #yunho smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut

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strrynigghts · 10 months ago

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dinner is served

— könig x main cod members x fem!reader

— cw/tw: mentions of food (eating + making + serving), feeling lonely despite being in a room of people, könig and reader are friends, not proofread, lmk if I’ve missed any!

— summary: könig joins you for dinner

— an: visited my family as I finally moved closer to them, and decided to make them dinner! was excited until I was the only one at the dinner table :) I also want to apologise for going mia! I moved to a different state and I still need to get all my stuff settled! also note that I’ve never played a damn cod game in my entire life and only know who’s who by reading fics written by others or from doing research for 10 seconds, so please excuse any cod mistakes!

after a long day of training with the 141, you’ve decided that you’d make a nice meal for everyone. you enjoyed cooking for them, and it’s been a while since you’ve last been able to make them, and yourself, a decent meal.

you knew it wasn’t going to be easy—the kitchen was loaded with mres—but luckily, the chefs from last night left a couple things behind.

you found mac ‘n cheese, green beans, chicken strips, and lettuce. it was more than plenty to work with, but you were excited to cook regardless.

opening the cans of carrots and green beans, you dumped them into their respective pots, adding salt and pepper as well as butter, to them both. you placed the chicken on a tray and popped them in the oven, and chopped up the lettuce and placed it into the fridge.

after about fifteen minutes, everything was done! you were happy and smiling and very excited to feed your teammates! you knew they loved your cooking, and they were so grateful when you did cook.

you grabbed out plates and cups, putting a little bit of everything onto their plates. you knew that most of them didn’t mind their food touching, but alejandro was sorta picky and didn’t like it when his veggie juice touched other foods. adding tea or water into certain cups, you’ve backed away to admire your work. it was beautifully done and you felt so proud!

“boys! dinner!” you yelled, and much like a stampede, they all came running—except for könig? “made y’all chicken, mac ‘n cheese, salad, and some green beans with carrots to go along with it. it’s important to eat your veggies.”

“thank you lass,” ghost and a few others said. you knew that even though some didn’t say their thanks, that they were still thankful.

“thank you love,” price chimed in, after you’ve passed all plates out—except for königs and yours. they all walked over to the room next to the kitchen and flicked the tv on, three of them on the couch and two of them in the loveseats.

grabbing a plate yourself, you proceeded to add whatever you wanted onto your plate. you always served yourself last when it came to making them food. you didn’t mind, you knew very well that they required more calories due to how much more extensive their training was.

you looked at königs plate, popping it into the microwave for a minute to keep it warm at least. you knew it wasn’t far behind the others, always showing up after the others all have settled into their seats. you grabbed yours and looked at the boys: there weren’t any seats left, and you didn’t like sitting on the floor. you sighed quietly and sat at the table near the kitchen.

there was a lump in your throat, however. you were so excited to finally cook for your team, for your family, but then they go into a different room and turn the tv on. you wanted to talk them, wanted them to talk to you, share stories, all that jazz. the laughter they shared just then didn’t help the lump go down either. your elbows were hanging off the table and your fork poked at your plate. you weren’t even hungry anymore.

you were too far into your mind that you didn’t notice könig grab his plate from the microwave and sit down at the table until he reached out for your hand. you looked up at him and although you couldn’t see it, you knew his eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes staring at you.

“are you okay, y/n?” he sounded so worried, removing his hand away as he sat straighter, raising his mask just to his nose before he went to take a bite.

“not really that hungry anymore.” you cleared your throat, offering him a weak smile as you stared back at him.

“pft, such nonsense maus! this is really good.”

you looked away, biting your lip as you sat in silence for a brief moment. you looked back at könig, only to see that he has his spoon up in your face, offering you a bite despite having your own plate right there. “c’mon, take a bite!” he shoved it closer to your face and you laughed softly, allowing the spoon to push past your lips.

könig pulled the spoon away and chuckled. “see? it’s good isn’t it, ja?”

you felt much better now that your best friend was eating at the table with you, making you laugh <3

image credit found here

#könig fic #könig x you #könig x reader #konig cod #könig cod #könig call of duty #konig x y/n #könig fanfiction #könig #konig x reader #könig fluff #könig x y/n #könig mw2 #könig x fem reader #könig is so sweet :( he can hit me with a bus and still do it sweetly #strry writes #if anyone understands I’m 🩰 anon #wrote this while shaving my cooter so typos are in here somewhere 🥰✨ much love lovies

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jensensfanfic · 2 years ago

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FROZEN MEALS

pairing: justin foley x gn!reader

a/n: another from my old wattpad account. this went from being just a 100 words on there... to this. also, warnings are under the cut

warnings: established relationship, use of "babe/baby", food mentions, mouldy food, justin not taking care of himself, mentions of seth + parental neglect, season 1 justin, it's maybe implied that the reader has more money than justin- but i wouldn't say rich/wealthy (not sure- you decide)

—☆—

Justin unlocks his front door and holds it open to let you in ahead of him. The simple, sweet gesture has you smiling, until you quickly remember where you are and who lives here. "Uh, is Seth around today, because I don't wanna be here if—?"

"I know." He shakes his head. "We're good. He been gone a few days, probably won't be back for a while."

"Alright."

"Come on, sit down."

Justin gestures to the tattered, old couch. You put your bag down next to the seat, then sink down into it. Justin kicks the door closed behind him, then opens the freezer and mumbles about how hungry he his. He rummages around for a while, then holds up a box and shakes it.

"This'll do. Hey, there's two of them if you want one."

You turn to read the box he's holding. 'Ready To Eat Roast Dinner.'

"Um, no, thank you. Not hungry."

"Suit yourself." Justin replies, and then you hear him poking holes, rather too harshly, into the plastic film covering his dinner.

He quite literally throws the container into the microwave, taps a few buttons and then grabs a stool while he waits for a beep.

However, like most things in Justin's mom's house, sadly, the microwave is broken. Instead of making that tell-tale beeping sound, it just doesn't stop. It keeps cooking, and after what feels like too long, you have to remind Justin to check his food, before it burns.

"S'okay, looks fine. Thanks for reminding me, though. That thing's a piece of shit."

Justin drops into the space next to you, placing his dinner on the table and digging in. You try not to grimace at the meal he seems to be enjoying, but the smell of it makes your face scrunch, as you cover your mouth with your hand.

"Justin, what is that?"

"Beef... I think." He shrugs. "Who the fuck cares? I'm starving."

"It just... doesn't smell right."

"What d'you mean?" Justin frowns, taking another bite.

"Well, it smells... bad. Like, out of date bad." You stand up and head to the kitchen counter. "Did you check the expiration date?"

"It's fine." Justin repeats.

You glance over the box, flipping it around to find the date, and grimacing when you do. "Justin, this is almost 5 months past!"

Justin looks over at you and just shrugs again. Then he shovels another bite into his mouth, which causes a bubble of anger to rise within you.

"Babe! Stop eating!" You go back to the couch, grab Justin's fork out of his hand and push the meal away. "You can't eat that!"

With a mouth still full, he yells. "I'm fucking hungry! I don't care."

He tries to reach for his food, so you pick it up and throw it into the trash before he can eat anymore.

"What the fuck?" He throws himself against the back of the couch dramatically. "That was fucking rude."

"No. It wasn't. You can eat that mouldy, rotten crap, Justin. You'll get sick." You join him once more, sitting down close enough to him that your legs are pressed together. "Baby, I don't want you to get sick."

"Ugh!" He shakes his head, annoyed, but when he looks at you again, his eyes are soft. "I'm sorry for yelling. I'm just hungry, and there's nothing else to eat."

"Nothing? At all?"

"Believe it or not... Seth's number one priority isn't feeding the dumbass kid he got stuck with after meeting my mom." Justin's eyes are sad, though his voice sounds like how he talks when he's telling a joke. "He rarely fills the fridge, unless it's with booze."

You blink rapidly, fighting off your emotions as you heart shatters. Clearing your throat, you pick up your bag and stand up, offering Justin your hand. He grabs it and you pull him up. "Well, fine then, let's go."

"Where exactly?"

"I'm gonna get us some takeout..." You open front door, throwing a look at the dirty, torn up couch. "...and then we'll eat at my place."

Justin's hand slips from yours, making you pause halfway out of the house. "Wait. Just— fuck sake!"

"What? What's wrong?"

"You already bought me a new backpack... a fucking winter jacket, even my school books. Just– you can't keep, like, buying me things."

"Why can't I?"

"Because! I– we're– it's– I don't know! It's just... it makes me feel like I owe you, all the time. And I have nothing to give you."

Dropping your bag to the floor, you reach for Justin's face, hold it, and force him to look at you. "Justin... baby, I love you, okay? And that means I love taking care of you, and taking care of you is making sure you have everything you need and deserve. 'Cos you do deserve it... even the very basic things that your mom and Seth don't buy for you. Like school books, and clothes... and food that doesn't smell like crap."

"Okay?" You shake his head a little. "And one day when we're older and both successful, you'll owe me back then. For now, though, being with you is enough in return."

Justin's mouth moves just barely, opening and closing as he tries to find what to say.

You know that he's never been the best at accepting help. He's never been one to ask for it either, and he definitely doesn't know how to react when you, or any of your friends tell him he's worth being cared for.

After a few moments, Justin replies with a simple, yet raw and heartfelt – judging by the raspy tone of his voice –, "Love you, too."

You peck his lips and smile. Then, you slide one of your hands up to his forehead.

"What're you doing?"

"Checking for if you feel hot. Do you? You ate quite a few bites of that crap."

Justin shakes his head. "I feel okay."

"Alright. Just tell me if you get a stomach ache or anything, 'kay?"

You take his hand, swing your bag over your shoulder, and then lead him out of the house. "So... pizza?"

"Ooh, yes." Justin grins, and you're more than delighted to see him happy once more. "I absolutely could go for pizza."

Taglist: @mockerycrow @wqxianwriting

13 REASONS WHY MASTERLIST

#i made that gif a long time ago-i'll prob update it soon lmao #my writing #mine #jensensfanfic #jensensfanfic/justinsjensen #justin foley fanfic #justin foley imagine #justin foley x reader #justin x reader #justin foley fanfiction #gn!reader

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serenityseventeen · 3 years ago

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♪ The Last Day of Summer With You

S.coups/Choi Seungcheol : Backyard Camping

The delicious smell of grilled meat arose as you cooked them, the scent whirling around the air into Seungcheol's nose.

“Oh, it smells so nice!” Seungcheol said. Your boyfriend was working hard on building a tent. It was currently 6 pm and you were pretty sure that in no time, the sun would be setting.

For the last day of summer, you two had both decided to have a backyard campout. Seungcheol asked you what you wanted to do earlier in the day and you replied with a simple “stay home.”

Seungcheol didn't want summer to end so boringly so he decided that you two should have a bit of fun and camp out in the backyard. At first, you were hesitant because you knew that summer nights could be pretty hot, but Seungcheol informed you that the night was going to be rather chilly, so you agreed.

You had one hand on your hip, your other holding the metal tongs, occasionally flipping the meat. The smoke was rising and you couldn't deny that the smell was delicious. You glanced over at Seungcheol who was still busy putting up the tent.

“Are you hungry?” You called out. Even though you weren't working as hard as Seungcheol was, you could feel the warmth of the sun and grill burning up your body. “Take a break for a moment, you should have the meat when it's fresh off the grill. I'll go grab some ice and cola.”

Fanning himself with his hat, Seungcheol walked over to the grill to take over the cooking. He grabbed two plates from the nearby table you set up, stacked with plates, utensils, and cups, along with a bowl. You went inside and searched through the fridge for some cold cola, also taking out some ice from the freezer.

After preparing the drinks, you went back outside through the back door. Seungcheol was sitting in one of the two dark green camping chairs. He was already recharging himself with some tender meat.

You gave him the cola and sat on the chair beside him.

“Thanks, baby,” Seungcheol said, gladly accepting the drink that was in a clear glass cup. You watched as he ate the food deliciously. Seeing him eating so deliciously made you happy.

“Should I invite the other guys for food?” You asked out of the blue, resting your arms on the foldable chair. “I think we grilled a lot of meat.”

Seungcheol chuckled and drank the cola before turning to you. “We can give them some meat tomorrow. The meat won't be in super great condition but with the help of a microwave, it'll taste just fine. I don't want them enjoying the stuff as much as we do right now.”

You laughed at your boyfriend's response. Just as you were about to ask about helping the building process of the tent, Seungcheol stood up and handed you his plate of grilled beef. You were a bit confused, watching as he stood up and walked over to the tent.

“You're getting back on it already?” You asked, staring at his half-full meal. “I think you should eat some more.”

“You should be the one eating! I'll get the tent ready and up so that we can both go inside and cuddle,” Seungcheol flashed you a confident grin and cute wink, making your heart melt. You smiled and picked up the fork on his plate, poking a piece of meat on it.

You stood up and walked over to Seungcheol, squatting down to meet his eyes. He was pinning the tent down to the ground and you could see sweat dripping from the side of his forehead. His arm veins were popping.

You held the fork out to him, smiling. Seungcheol looked up and he couldn't help but smile. You didn't have to feed him while he worked, but you did. He was grateful for that. Seungcheol munched on the meat you gave him as he worked. When he became full, you were somehow able to tell and stopped feeding him.

You helped him finish pinning down the tent and by the time you two finished, all the meat was grilled and the sun had set. After eating dinner, you two sat outside of the tent, staring up at the darkening sky. There were still grey clouds and the sky was more like a midnight blue than black. There weren't any stars yet but you both could see the distant moon.

You two had abandoned the chairs and we're sitting on the grass, leaning against the tent. His head was resting on your shoulder and you pointed up to the sky, at a cloud that sort of looked like two cherries.

“Doesn't that resemble the booty cherries?” You asked, chuckling softly. Seungcheol giggled as the picture came to light in his mind. He didn't even think it looked like cherries until you brought it up.

“It does now that you say that,” Seungcheol said. The wind was a bit cooler now, which was quite refreshing to feel compared to earlier that day. Seungcheol turned his head slightly to get a glimpse of you. “Are you tired already?”

You reached for the flashlight and switched it on. The white light shone against the wall of the house. The flashlight was positioned just perfectly for the two of you to make some shadows with your hands. You made a heart and Seungcheol giggled upon seeing it. He brought his hand to yours and completed your heart.

It was completely dark now so the two of you decided to head into the tent. Seungcheol had begun to complain about bugs.

You both fell onto the floor of the tent, your arms around each other. The blanket padding had made it more comfortable.

“It was fun today even though we didn't do much,” Seungcheol said, already wanting to go to sleep. The flashlight was still on but was covered slightly with the blanket, making the light dimmer.

“You did a good job building the tent,” You said. Your head was resting on top of his arm comfortably. “It's nice and firm.”

Seungcheol smiled, his tone suddenly serious but still maintaining a bit of softness. “You did a good job feeding me. You're always my biggest support and care for me all the time.”

You smiled. “That's because I love you a lot. You're the most special person to me, Cheol.”

Seungcheol felt his heart warm up with joy. He held you tightly in his arms, patting the back of your head. You reached for the flashlight and flicked it off.

While holding each other in the tent, under the night sky, in the orange tent, you both fell into a deep sleep. With the crickets chirping in the night, under the moonlight, the night turned into dawn, transitioning into September.

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

a/n: Here's the first part! I was contemplating on whether or not I should name these but I decided not to. These are all just very fluffy! I haven't written for all the members yet, only around 5/13 but I'll work hard!^^

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lololova · 4 years ago

Photo

Kate’s belly is rumbling with hunger and while she groans with irritation her partner laughs beside her.

“Hungry?” he teases and she gives him a glare.

“No,” she says stubbornly and he chuckles.

“You sure? I got some leftover pasta from yesterday, you know, the kind you like,” he says in a sultry way and she can feel her mouth water at the thought of the delicious dish he makes at times. She’s quiet for a few seconds and she can feel his gaze on her as he most likely sees how badly she’s considering saying yes. “You know, the loft is on the way to the precinct. We could simply call Ryan and Espo and tell them we’re taking the lunch break now.”

She sighs with somewhat annoyance as she gives in. “Fine,” she simply says as she calls their coworkers to tell them about their plans to eat lunch out.

It doesn’t take long before they arrive at the loft and once they’re inside he sets his steps towards the kitchen while she takes a moment to look through her notes of the case.

“Why would someone kill the janitor always being nice to everyone? It doesn’t make any…” Kate stops talking when she sees his ass sticking out from the fridge and she can’t help but bite her lower lip as she remembers last night.

He straightens up and looks at her with question in his eyes, asking why she stopped mid-sentence, only to seemingly read exactly why in her eyes. His lips turn up in a smirk and she feels her insides jump in excitement. He closes the fridge again and walks around the counter in order to invade her personal space in the way he can’t when they’re at work. Only now, they’re at the loft and not in the eyes of their colleagues or witnesses.

“You like what you see?” he says in that sultry bed-voice of his and she curses him for it.

She doesn’t lean away though, too drawn into him and the tension between them to really care when his lips brush her ear with the promise of more. She shivers.

“Castle,” she whispers, clearing her throat. “We need to get back to work, eat and go ba-“ she gasps when his lips are, so suddenly, attached to her neck.

“We got an hour,” he mumbles electrically into her skin.

She feels his hands land on her hips and she’s not fighting at all when he pulls her closer to meet his hips with hers. His lips are nipping at her skin and she just can’t take it anymore, she raises her hands to cup his face in order to get him to move from her neck to her face where she attached her lips to his in a searing kiss. As their tongues are finding each other their hands are getting friskier, touching and pulling each other closer.

“Mm, bed,” she mumbles and he smirks against her lips right before he pulls away and grabs her hand to lead her to the bedroom.

As soon as they’re in the bedroom they’re not so modest anymore. Fingers instantly finding the hems of their clothes in order to peel them off of each other. Before they know it they’re rolling around in their bed, moving in perfect rhythm to reach that high only the two of them could give each other. Once they’re getting dressed again she’s shaking her head, constantly looking towards her watch to be observant to the time.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” she complains and feels his eyes turn on her.

“Me?! It was you giving me those sexy eyes, not the other way around,” he says and she feels her cheeks turn hot as she stubbornly shakes her head.

She puts on her pants and buttons it as fast as she can. “We’re going to be late, come on, we will have to eat in the car.”

He chuckles as she runs past him to go and heat up the pasta. She watches the food with her stress-levels rising every second it takes to heat up. Her partner isn’t exactly quiet as he walks up behind her and she feels his lips kiss her neck.

“Nuh-uh,” she says, ducking away from him immediately. “What if Gates questions us? Do you really want her to believe it’s your fault again?”

“Why wouldn’t I tell her the truth and say it’s yours?” he questions and she gives him the look.

“As if she’d believe you.”

He snorts. “Touché.”

The second the microwave makes the beeping sound stating it’s done she’s forcing it out of it in order to stick a fork inside it and takes a bite before handing it to him.

“Come on, we have to eat on foot,” she says and he immediately follows her. They take turns taking bites as they move along down to the car and while she drives he feeds her a little now and then to make sure she gets enough to eat.

Kate’s still chewing the last part of the food as they enter the precinct and meets Ryan and Esposito on their way out.

“Hey, what did you guys have?” Ryan questions and Kate is just about to answer when her partner is answering a second before she’s able to open her mouth.

“Sex.”

Kate starts coughing, having almost choked on the last pasta she had been about to swallow when his way to honest answer comes out of his mouth. She feels absolutely horrified as she sees her two coworkers look between them with shock in their eyes.

“Pasta!” she exclaims as soon as her mouth is clear from food. “We had pasta!”

“Oh, you meant what we had for lunch,” Castle says and she doesn’t even try to stop the hiding behind her hands as she groans in humiliation.

“O-kay,” Esposito says before looking towards his partner. “Well, anyway, we’re going to talk with the janitor’s girlfriend.”

“He had a girlfriend?” Kate immediately jumps on the job-train, not wanting to discuss her sex-life another second.

Once they’re informed the two detectives stroll away and as the elevator doors close, leaving the two partners alone, Kate’s slapping his arm hard and he yelps.

“What was that for?!” he exclaims and Kate glares at him. “Okay, so maybe not my finest moment.” He tries to smile but she isn’t budging.

“You think.”

“Well, let me make it up to you tonight,” he says and she bites her lower lip.

“You better,” she mutters right before walking into the bullpen, completely refocusing her mind to the case. Time to work.

THE END

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

A/N: Prompt sent to me from @/castle_absentia (Twitter). She pretty much sent the tweet of @/wrongcaskett (down at the bottom). Thank you so much Emma, hope you enjoyed it! Until next time….

*Castle and Beckett coming back from lunch*

Ryan: Hey, what did you guys have?

Castle: Sex.

Beckett: …

Ryan: …

Castle: …

Beckett: Pasta! We had pasta!

Castle: Oh, you meant what we had for lunch.

#Castle #Caskett #Beckett

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serendipityunho · 5 years ago

Text

always yours (pg) — jung wooyoung

The bickering, the arguing. There was only so much you could handle before you lost your mind.

You were sick of the aggravated voices booming through the house, it gave you headaches to the point of crying. You hated it. The feeling of weakness flowing through your body and the feeling of uselessness as you weren’t able to do anything about it.

It only stopped for a little bit. You had to cherish those few seconds of silence before the pounding headaches hit you like a brick once again. You knew that if you tried to scream, nothing would come out no matter how hard you try, not even a whimper.

Never have you had the thought of running away cross your mind but tonight might be the first. Nothing was stopping you. Your parents probably wouldn’t even notice, too busy throwing curses and yells into each other’s faces.

It was better out than trapped inside this box of hell. But where was there to go? Anywhere but here.

You did it.

Contemplating every decision you were about to make with each step down the stairs to the front door. And you were right, they didn’t notice. You could even hear their tiresome voices from outside.

That’s when you ran, you ran like you never wanted to go back. Never looking back, afraid of the possibility of a sudden change in mind.

The streets were the embodiment of how you were feeling. Empty, dark, cold, only a little bit of light left.

You didn’t even realise you were panting like crazy until your legs had slowed down after growing tired of the sprint you had just done. The headache seemed to have been consumed with spins now, just great. It felt like it was about to explode any second now with the cold air sinking in every pore of your body.

Slight relief flushed over you as your eyes land on the flickering neon lights of a convenience store situated in the corner of the street. It drew you in like a moth as your legs start moving again.

A slight buzz filled your ear as you approached, eyes aching slightly at the sign. It was empty, of course it was, it was a dead street.

A foot into the store and you felt calmer than ever, the quiet atmosphere was more than enough to have you breathing normally again. The cashier looked as if they were seconds away from falling asleep, it was a twenty-four-hour store after all.

There was a little seating area further inside the store in front of the ceiling-high window, a man occupied the spot towards the end of the table with nothing but a cup of some sort of steaming hot beverage in his hands. If only you took the time to snatch some change off of your table, you wouldn’t be licking your lips for something warm to fill your cold body.

As you grew closer to the line of seats, the face of whom sitting alone grew recognisable. It wasn’t just a random stranger chilling in a convenience store in the middle of the night. It was, in fact, someone you had once known very well.

You wouldn’t be able to mistake that jawline for anyone else other than Jung Wooyoung. Your heart clenched at the sight of him finally in front of you.

People say losing friendships with someone you were once close to was worse than heartbreak, you finally understood that after conflicting discourses between the two of you that lead to him parting his way and you parting the other. Not a day goes by without you wishing things could back to the way it was, the way it could be.

It would be cliche to say Wooyoung was your everything, but he was. He was the only one that understood, the one that could.

The chair pulled out with ease as you take a seat on it, you didn’t bother taking another glance at Wooyoung, you couldn’t despite how badly you just wanted to mutter a greeting to him. Nothing was the same after your partings, no regular hallway scares, no contagious laughter, no nothing. You missed it dearly.

What were you supposed to do sitting here? That was the real question. Stay until the sun comes up? Wait until your parents go berserk and search for you? Let’s just see where the night takes you.

It was a silence you’ve been dreading for so long. Free and away from the chaos at home. Back when you and Wooyoung were attached to the hip, he was your place of sanctuary, always buying rice cakes for the two of you to snack on and hopefully take your mind off things. But now it seems like he was the only one on your mind considering he was literally sitting three seats away from you.

“You still wear that ring to sleep?” You jumped at the sudden voice, eyes widening as you stop fiddling with your fingers.

“You know I don’t take it off” It took some courage to raise your head, facing the voice beside you.

It was almost like you were in a fever dream just seeing Wooyoung’s eyes again, his face, him. You didn’t realise how much it hurt to be away from him for so long until now when a stinging feeling erupts in the pit of your stomach.

The ring on your index finger was a simple silver band, given to you by Wooyoung when he had experienced his first heartbreak and you were there to console him. A little ‘thank you’ since he had been too embarrassed to say it out loud to your face.

“Finally did it huh? Ran away from your parents?” It was Wooyoung who had given you the idea of running away even though you never thought you’d consider it. You wouldn’t say his situation was the same but he always managed to find a way to escape it.

His irrational decisions always taught you lessons, to never do what he did. But look where you are now.

“Is it that obvious?” You chuckled, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

“Why else would you be sitting here at three in the morning?” Wooyoung’s face remained blank, a tint of concern pooling in his eyes as he pivoted his body to face you.

“Speaking of which, why are you?”

“Same thing”

“Oh,” Do you comfort him? Leave him alone? He probably spoke up for a reason, didn’t he? “, what happened this time?- I mean, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to-”.

“- Actually, they kicked me out”

“O-Oh, I’m sorry” You weren’t surprised at all to be honest. You saw this coming, just never expected it to be now. Wooyoung never really did have a good bond with his parents, it was fragmented to the point where you could never remend it.

“It’s fine, better now than never. I can’t stand it there anymore” You could almost feel his pain through his words. It pained you to know Wooyoung was thinking so lowly, yearning for escape from his own parents.

“Where are you going to go?”

“I don’t know, my friend Jongho got himself a place. I might crash there for a while” It was only the two of you back then, seems like he’s moved on pretty quickly after that too. But you? It was progress.

“Good luck”

“Where are you going to go? Are you just staying here for the rest of the night?” Wooyoung furrowed his brows, resting his chin on the palm of his hand as the two of you spoke more words than you could’ve possibly expected.

“If I have to, yes”

“Good luck to you too then”

“Thanks”

Silence once again. The shot of serotonin from just talking to Wooyoung was the only thing keeping you awake, keeping your mind busy and away from home. You wanted to thank him, thank him for talking to you even though it was barely anything, you were happy to hear his voice. Probably one last time.

You trace the silver ring with your finger, facing back to the window as you sit in silence. You could feel Wooyoung’s gaze still on you from the side of your head, a part of you wanted to face back to him and talk, the other just wants to be left alone in complete silence hoping for the night to pass quicker.

“I’ll be back” Your head snapped up to Wooyoung pushing himself off his seat and disappearing into the aisles of goods.

You could see Wooyoung eyeing some food near the cold area from the circled mirror in the corner of the store. He had grabbed a few things before approaching the cashier, muttering a faint ‘thank you’ before moving back to the other side of the store.

What was this boy doing?

It was the echo of beeps that had sprung your interest now. Wooyoung was standing in front of the microwave, tapping his foot as he looked around. His eyes met yours in the mirror, throwing you a small smile before looking back at his little project.

The whirring sound of the microwave halted as Wooyoung pulled out whatever was inside, holding it but its edges and speedwalking back to your little seating area. This time, sitting next to you.

“I bought us rice cakes” You didn’t know what to say, just staring at Wooyoung with awe as he shot a meaningful smile, handing over a second fork to you.

“Wha-”

“I know you don’t eat when shit like that happens so you must be hungry as fuck right now, just eat with me. Please?”

Your heart softened at his words, lips twitching into a small smile as you accept the fork he held out. Your life turned to darkness after Wooyoung had parted from you, but now, it was like you had found light again.

“Thank you, Wooyoung”

He chuckled, stabbing a rice cake with his fork before raising it up to your mouth with his hand under to catch any fallout. This wasn’t the first time you’ve seen this trick. Your mouth opens with an ‘ah’ as Wooyoung chuckles softly while feeding you.

“I missed you, I missed you so much” He says softly.

“Don’t leave me ever again, please” You choked, the stinging feeling had come back as you feel tears lining your vision. From those three platonic words, it was enough to open a door full of closeted emotions.

“I won’t ever think about it” Wooyoung instantly embraced you in a hug, rubbing your back with his hand as you let a tear fall.

“Promise?”

“I promise”

#ateez fluff #ateez angst #kpop fluff #kpop angst #wooyoung fluff #ateez #ateez imagines #kpop #kpop imagines #jung wooyoung #fluff:wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung imagines

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ghost-in-the-hella · 4 years ago

Note

63. “I need a place to stay.” PriceMarsh

Roughly 1 million years later (in fandom years), here it is.

CW for homophobia and implied domestic abuse.

---

When Chloe answers the door at 9pm on Christmas Eve, she isn’t expecting to see her girlfriend. She especially isn’t expecting to see her looking tear-stained and puffy-eyed in her best church clothes, soaked to the skin and carrying a hastily packed backpack.

“Kate! What’s wrong?” she asks, heart immediately hammering anxiously in her chest.

Kate barely manages to get the words out. “I need a place to stay.”

“O-of course, yeah.” Chloe holds the door open and steps back, ushering her inside. It’s too cold and rainy outside for Kate to be standing there without a heavy coat.

“I’m sorry,” Kate starts babbling as soon as she’s over the threshold. “I didn’t know where else to go; the dorms are closed until after New Years and--”

“Hey, hey,” Chloe says soothingly, pulling Kate gently into her arms. “I’m glad you came here. I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all. But I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.”

Kate hiccups something between a laugh and a sob into Chloe’s shoulder as she hugs her back so hard that Chloe’s ribs ache. “I missed you, too,” she mumbles wetly.

“What’s going on?” David barks from the living room over the sound of the television. “Shut the damn door, girlie; you’re letting all the heat out!”

Chloe gives Kate an extra squeeze, feeling the way she tenses at David’s gruff voice. She kicks out one foot, pushing the door loudly shut.

“Who is it?” Joyce asks, poking her head out of the kitchen, her hands still dripping soap suds. Her eyebrows rise in concern when she sees the state that Kate is in. “Kate, darlin’!” she exclaims, leaving the kitchen and wiping off her hands on a dishcloth. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Madsen,” Kate says through a fresh wave of tears. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your family so close to Christmas. I’m sorry I didn’t call ahead; she took my phone.”

Chloe’s heart sinks down to her toes and her head starts buzzing numbly. Shit. She’s been dreading this moment ever since she and Kate started dating. “Your mom?”

Kate nods, looking heartbroken. She turns to Chloe. “I didn’t mean to tell her anything,” she says in an agonized rush. “It just slipped out. One of my cousins came out over Thanksgiving, and she was talking all about how he was going to hell and I just meant to defend him and… and… It just slipped out.” Kate’s mouth tightens into a pained snarl. “She was just so convinced that none of her perfect daughters could be ‘like that,’ so convinced it was something his parents did wrong and that he would go to hell, and I couldn’t let her. I couldn’t let her keep saying those things as if she wasn’t talking about her own daughter, too.”

“So she kicked you out,” Chloe says numbly.

Kate nods again, and Joyce’s frown deepens as she sweeps in to put her own arm around Kate’s shoulders. “Well, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, Katie, darlin’. I’m sure your mother will come to her senses--” she glares at Chloe when Chloe snorts angrily “--eventually,” she continues determinedly, “but until then you just stay right here with us. Have you had supper?”

Kate shakes her head. “Th-thank you, Mrs. Madsen. I’m sorry to impose, I just didn’t know where else to go; the dorms are closed over break.”

“Never you mind; it’s no imposition. Chloe, would you set up a dinner plate for our guest?”

“Yeah, ‘course.” Chloe lets go of Kate and looks her up and down. She’s sopping wet and shivering. “You wanna grab a shower and warm up while I’m heating the leftovers? You can borrow some of my pjs if you need a change of clothes.”

“Thank you,” Kate says once again, pressing her cold lips gratefully against Chloe’s cheek as Joyce returns to the kitchen and starts bustling about in the refrigerator. “I managed to grab some things before she locked me out, but I don’t know if I’ve even got a complete outfit apart from what I’m wearing.”

Chloe scowls. “I can’t believe your dad let her do this. And on Christmas Eve; what the actual fuck.”

Kate shrugs sadly. “He tried to reason with her, but when she gets like this…” She sighs. “Maybe he’ll be able to talk her around, eventually. At least enough that I can go back and get the rest of my things.”

“He’d fucking better. And if he doesn’t, we’ll break in and take them back,” Chloe promises.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Parents kicked you out, huh?” David says, suddenly looming in the doorway with a nearly empty beer bottle dangling from one hand. “That’s rough.”

“I… Yes, it is, Mr. Madsen.”

David nods contemplatively, eyes darting back and forth between Kate and Chloe, and Chloe wants to go over and smack his eyes shut. “Well. Sorry t’hear it. I s’pose we can fix up the couch for you ‘til the dorms reopen.”

It’s more than Chloe expected from him but less than Kate deserves. “Kate can stay in my room. We’re both adults.”

David’s expression sours. “Miss Marsh can stay on the couch,” he replies. “Your mother and I already tolerated enough shenanigans when that Amber girl used to stay over. This isn’t a bordello.”

Chloe’s anger flares and she steps forward to say something well-deserved but ill-advised, halted only by Kate’s gentle hand on her elbow. “I can sleep on the couch,” Kate says. “I don’t mind. I fell asleep on the bus ride here; the couch will be much more comfortable, I’m sure. Thank you, Mr. Madsen.”

Step-douche nods at that and disappears back into the living room like some vile ghost. Chloe wishes he’d fuck off and find some other house to haunt. Chloe’s distracted from her thoughts by the soft, cool press of Kate’s lips on the corner of her jaw. Kate slips her fingers into Chloe’s and gives them a squeeze. “I’m going to go shower and get changed. Maybe I’ll feel a bit more stable then. We can figure everything else out afterward, okay?”

“Okay,” Chloe says, turning to kiss Kate back, just a light peck at the edge of her lips. “I’ll heat up some food for you. We can talk it out once you’re warm and dry with a full stomach.”

Kate nods. “I’m probably going to cry a whole lot,” she warns. “I feel sort of numb right now, but I don’t know how long that’s going to last before I break down again.”

“I’ve got two good shoulders,” Chloe tells her. “You can cry on them all you need. I’ve got your back, Angel.”

Kate already looks a bit teary when she pulls Chloe in for a hug. “I should be calling you Angel. You’re the one saving my life here. I don’t know what I would have done tonight if I didn’t have you to run to.”

Kate wouldn’t have to run anywhere if it weren’t for Chloe, but Chloe knows that if she says that out loud Kate will only deny it, so she gives Kate a squeeze and sends her upstairs. Chloe busies herself in the kitchen, trying to focus on setting up the best dinner she can for her girlfriend rather than on the bottomless anger welling up inside of her.

“I just can’t imagine,” Joyce sighs. “And on Christmas Eve, no less! I thought you said they were Christians. What good Christian woman would throw her daughter out on Christmas Eve?”

Chloe shrugs because if she speaks she’ll only shout, and she doesn’t want Kate to hear her yelling and get upset.

Joyce stares at Chloe’s tight shoulders for a moment, her brow furrowed and jaw tensed in contemplation, and she gently takes the plate from Chloe’s hands and puts it into the microwave. “You know that I love you, Chloe. Don’t you?”

Chloe nods, feeling like she might cry or be sick or very possibly both. It isn’t fair. Kate’s the good one. Kate deserves a family that loves and protects her. She deserves better than her mother’s rejection, her father’s inadequacy, Chloe’s bony shoulders to cry on, David’s barely-there tolerance. She deserves the world, and Chloe doesn’t know how to give it to her.

“Oh, Chloe.” Joyce pulls her into a gentle hug, and Chloe’s upset enough that she lets her, sobbing wetly into her mother’s shoulder before she can stop herself. “Chloe, Chloe. We’ll take good care of that girl. She can stay here as long as it takes.”

“Step--”

“I’ll talk to David. Don’t you worry about anythin’, Darlin’.”

Chloe wants to say something cutting about why hasn’t Joyce ‘talked to David’ about not berating her constantly, not invading her privacy, not smacking her around whenever she talks back to him rather than take his shit. But she can hear the shower turning off upstairs and she doesn’t want to get them both kicked out on Christmas Eve with nowhere to go. “Thanks, mom,” she mumbles, wiping her eyes as she pulls out of the embrace. The microwave beeps and Chloe goes to check on the food.

Kate comes downstairs a few minutes later with damp hair hanging around her shoulders, wearing one of her own sleep shirts paired with a severely oversized pair of Chloe’s pajama pants. She’s rolled the cuffs several times and they still drag on the floor. She looks soft and sweet, and Chloe just wants to wrap her up in the protective warmth of her arms and keep her safe forever, never let her go. Chloe draws back the chair in front of Kate’s steaming dinner plate. “Hope you’re hungry. Joyce always makes enough food to feed the whole town around the holidays.”

Kate sits and picks up her fork, giving Chloe a bigger smile than Chloe would’ve expected considering how traumatizing Kate’s night has been so far. “You know, I wasn’t sure I would have an appetite at all, but I’m actually famished.” She scoops up a big dollop of mashed potatoes and gobbles it down, closing her eyes in bliss. Chloe has to smile. Kate really is just too cute. She reaches over and thumbs away a smudge of gravy at the corner of Kate’s mouth. “Your mom’s a really good cook.”

“When she has time, yeah. I, uh. I’m actually a pretty decent cook, too. Had to pick up some of her skillz when it was just the two of us and she was pulling doubles at the diner all the time, y’know?”

“Hmm, good to know.” Kate slowly sets down her fork. “You know… I keep thinking I should feel worse. I should feel worse, shouldn’t I?”

“Probably hasn’t sunk in yet.”

“Maybe. I keep thinking: I should be breaking down, my mother threw me out of the house, my sisters were crying, she’s going to tell them horrible things about me, my father failed to protect me… Most of my life is in that house. My phone, my computer, Alice. But all I can feel is relieved.”

“Relieved.”

Kate nods pensively. “Relieved, and grateful.” She shrugs. “My family knows now. There’s no big secrets left to hide from them. I can stop worrying about what’s going to happen when they find out, because it’s already happened. I can just be my complete self now and not have to worry that it’ll get back to them somehow.” She places her hand over Chloe’s and smiles softly at her. “And grateful because I have you. Because I have a place to go and a person to go to. So many people don’t have that, but I do, and I’m so, so grateful that it’s you.”

Chloe sniffs a little even though she’s not crying - she’s not - and shifts her hand to lock her fingers with Kate’s. “I’m the one who’s grateful for you. I… I wish I had a better place for you to go. Without…” She flails her free hand inarticulately. “Fuckin’ family drama. Without having to look over your damn shoulder in case Sergeant Dickhead’s getting his rage on.”

Kate squeezes Chloe’s hand. “Maybe… Maybe this can be a good thing. Maybe it can be an opportunity for both of us. I was thinking that when I graduate, I’ll want to move out of my parents’ place anyway, find an apartment of my own… I was, um. I was planning to ask if you wanted to join me.”

Chloe blinks rapidly, struggling to keep up. “Wait, like… Get an apartment together? Like, move in together?”

Kate nods shyly. “If you wanted. And now… Maybe it makes sense to start looking sooner. I don’t know if they’re going to keep paying for my dorm room now that I’ve been kicked out, and if they don’t… I mean, even if my dad is willing to keep paying for it, it’s probably better for me to get some distance.” She blushes. “If you want to, of course. It’s okay if you don’t; I didn’t mean to spring this on you so suddenly. I was going to work up to it, try to get a sense of what you wanted to do, if you even wanted to live with me--”

Chloe leans over and kisses Kate hard on the cheek to interrupt her spiral. “I’d love to.”

Kate lights up. “Really?”

“Really. Seriously. I can’t think of anything I’d like better. Our own place? Just you and me, able to decorate shit the way we want, to not have to lie or hide anything or walk on eggshells to keep from pissing off our parents?? Hella yes, I want that!”

“We probably won’t be able to afford anything too nice, and we’ll have to get jobs, but--”

“Fuck, I’m game if you are. I’ll wait tables at the fucking Two Whales if I have to.” Chloe shuts up so that Kate can kiss her. “You and me, Katydid.”

Kate rests her head on Chloe’s shoulder. “You and me. We’re going to make it work.”

“Hell yeah, we are.” Chloe presses another kiss into Kate’s wet hair, and she sits and holds Kate and, for the first time in years, looks forward to the future.

#prompt fill #prompt fic #life is strange #fanfic #pricemarsh #chloe price #kate marsh #ghost writes

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Imagine:

Fun/humor sex with Erik. Requires laughs, and smiles.

Me and my boo always have a good time while having sex.

“Erik...what the fuck is this?”

Y/N pulls out her new collar that Erik had made for her.

“If found. Return to Daddy. You come up with the wildest shit.”

Erik laughs, “it’s different. Everytime we go out somewhere like to the mall or those lame ass carnivals you like, just flash this to security if you get lost and my name and number is on the back.”

“This isn’t the old days, Erik,” Y/N fights a laugh, “we have technology now. All I gotta do is call your phone and find out where you are if I get lost.”

“True...but the shit is still funny.”

“Just for that I’m not wearing this.”

Y/N tossed the collar back inside of the gift bag. She placed it in front of Erik while he sat on the couch.

“C’mon, baby girl. It’s fun, do it for me. Please?”

He pouts, giving her his puppy dog eyes. Y/N grabs the bag, taking the collar out again to admire it.

“I mean...it’s cute...I guess.”

She placed it around her neck.

“All it’s missing is a chain for you to drag me around the house with like a damn dog.”

Erik smacks his forehead, “that’s what I forgot, the chain, and the cage to put you in.”

“Fuck YOU,” she flips him off, “I’m not your damn pet, nigga.”

“Would you ever be down for pet play though?”

Erik follows Y/N into the kitchen. As soon as he sat down on a bar stool his stomach growled.

“No, I don’t think I would be into that,” She opened the fridge, “You’re hungry again? Didn’t we just go out to a restaurant?”

“I hardly ate all day fucking around with you and all this last minute holiday shopping.”

“You have two moods. Hungry, and horny.”

She pulls out some left over shrimp with broccoli and Alfredo sauce that she made to heat up for him.

“And you have two moods, hungry and sleepy.”

She starts the microwave.

“I’m not the one that’s eating. And I am tired I’m gonna turn in early.”

“You sound like a geriatric,” Erik laughs, “I already know once we get older all that sex shit ain’t happening.”

Y/N kisses her teeth, “I’m not fucking at 70 years old, Erik. Just because you have traces of vibranium in your blood doesn’t give you the right to talk about me and my future old self.”

“Man, men in wakanda still be fucking at 90.”

She couldn’t help but to laugh. Y/N takes his food out to put into a bowl for him.

“90?! That’s wayyyy too old.”

“Shit, if I can still get my dick up at 90 I’m fucking.”

“Catch me in the hospital getting a pacemaker implant,” Y/N jokes, “tryna fuck me to death, literally.”

“You can’t handle the dick now so I already know you can’t at 90.”

Y/N turned around, a finger pointed at Erik and a roll of her neck, “keep talking shit and you won’t eat! And you won’t get no pussy from me!”

“Girl,” Erik leans over the counter, “Nobody want your dry ass food anyway. And I’m getting me some pussy tonight. We ain’t have sex in about two days that’s too long for me.”

“Calm your dick down, Sir, and my food aint dry. Keep fucking playing, Erik.”

“Aight, chill.”

“That’s what I thought.”

She placed his bowl of food in front of him with no fork.

“Where’s my fork?”

She smiles mischievously, “eat it with your hands since you wanna be slick. Who was that last chick you were with?” Erik reaches out to grab her but she dodged him, “Sabrina? Sariya? Fuck if I care, but that bitch was the last bitch to put up with yo shit. Eat with your hands.”

“Why are you so damn cold blooded, ma?”

She sticks her tongue out at him, leaving him in the kitchen alone. Erik finally gets up himself to get a fork so he could eat his food and chase after her ass. He was way too hungry to play around at the moment.

Once he was finished Erik cleans his bowl and fork, setting out to hunt her ass down. He found her, in their bedroom with her hair tied, sleep shorts on, and a tank top with no bra. She was just getting ready to get her ass in bed.

“Nah, what you doing?” Erik kicks off his shoes.

“Sleeping. I told you I’m tired. We had a long ass day.”

“You burn me up with this shit. When I’m horny, you sleep. You doing all that old shit already.”

“You and your dick have a good night.” She covers her entire body, then she starts to fake snore. Erik chuckles before pulling the covers off of the whole bed.

“Did you really just fake snore? And no you’re not going to sleep, Y/N.”

Erik began to undress. Y/N curled up into a ball because now she was cold.

“Get your sexy ass up, we fucking.”

“Erik, listen. I’m tired.”

“Nope.”

“Oh my God,” she finally sits up, “You’re getting on my nerves.”

“Just take all that shit off,” Erik stood in full nudity now, “c’mon, take your clothes off right fucking now before I rip it off.”

“Nigga,” she takes off her tank and shorts leaving her scarf on, “Happy?!” She makes her titties shake, then she opens her legs to show him her pussy, “happy, motherfucker?!”

Erik laughs, “Fucking ecstatic,” he was in a laughing fit as he crawled onto the bed, “I’m really tripping off the fact that you keep acting like you don’t want some dick.”

She was staring at the dick in question. Now, like Erik had some sort of power over her, she wanted his dick in her mouth.

“Now I wanna suck your dick.”

“Shit, you ain’t gotta tell me twice,” Erik went to lay on his back, “come suck this dick.”

She shook her head at him, crawling up to kneel in front of his dick. She picks up his thick erection, swinging it back and forth playfully.

“Don’t play with it, suck it,” Erik barks out.

Y/N starts sucking on the tip of his dick, shutting Erik up. She was getting it real nice and wet like he liked. Her mouth was sloppy and warm around him. He made sounds of appreciation whenever she would lower her mouth around him. His eyes were focused on the TV because she had a movie playing.

“Oh shit, you got CB4 on!”

“Erik! I’m tryna suck your dick!” Y/N glared at him.

“Sorry, baby, I know it’s just I haven’t see this in a minute.”

He focused back on her, stroking her face, “Keep going, Daddy like it when you suck on his balls.”

She went back at it like she never stopped. Now Erik started playing with her.

“Let me see that mouth,” Y/N showed Erik her mouth with spit oozing off her tongue, “Now suck on the tip...yeah, I like the way you do it...stop, let me see your mouth again.”

Erik slaps her tongue with the weight of his dick, then he took it up a notch to smack her face.

“Damn!” She grabs his dick, Erik laughs.

“Did it hurt?” He asked with a smile.

“You slapped me in my damn eye with it.”

Just when Y/N was getting into it again a funny scene from the movie came up and Erik bursts into laughter. Y/N heard it too, popping her mouth off his dick to laugh as well.

“See, I’m about to turn this shit off I can’t concentrate.” She says with annoyance.

“Yo, I forgot how funny this shit was,” he wipes a tear from the side of his eye, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help it.”

“If you want your dick sucked I suggest you stop.”

“Okay, mommy.”

She drowned out the movie and gave Erik her all. He loved it every single time. Now she had his undivided attention. Erik starts bucking his hips, grabbing her scarf and messing up her hair.

“Damn, Baby, I wasn’t tryna buss a nut before I got in that pussy.”

“I want the nut though.” She sucked his dick with her lips tightly wrapped around him. Everytime she came up she would lick the tip of his dick between his slit to catch the pre cum.

“Damn, yes, baby girl,” His hands were over his face now. Y/N took him all the way in her mouth, Erik erupting deep down her throat. She licked the last bits off.

Erik sits up, grabbing Y/N and flipped her body over. Her scarf was completely off now, hair all wild and she just got it done.

“My hair!!” She went to grab the scarf to try and put it back on but Erik had his lips wrapped around her clit. She bucked her hips, thighs being pushed back. Y/N grabs Erik’s hair, grinding her pussy on his lips.

“Since you wanna fuck up my hair I’m feeding you this pussy.”

“Mmznsmsk” he was talking but not a word made sense.

“What was that? I can’t hear you with a mouth full of pussy, Erik.” At this point his whole face was being used to her advantage. Erik pinches her inner thighs hard causing Y/N to let go of his hair.

“What the fuck?” She laughs but the pain was still there. She rubs her thighs to sooth the stinging pain.

“Girl, I was over here dying,” Erik rubs her juices from his nose, “you had me drowning in the pussy.”

“Just finish eating me, i was close.”

Erik did what he was told for once. He went back to eating Y/N’s pussy for her, making his girl moan out his name. She didn’t force his face into her slit anymore, she just let him do his thing.

“Yes, right there,” she let out a sigh, “fuck, right there. I’m gonn cum in your mouth if you keep eating me like this.”

“And I want that shit, girl.”

His ravishing mouth weakened her further and now Y/N’s arms were scaling the bed to grab something. She couldn’t control the quake of her thighs whenever Erik would lick her clit and place soft wet kisses over it. Her pussy convulsed and rippled against his mouth while her hands went up to grab his dreads.

“Mm,” he moaned into her pussy.

“You’re moaning in my pussy, baby?” She bit her lip with a smile. Erik only looked up at her with playful eyes before giving her a wink. Y/N giggles before opening her mouth to moan again. She finger combed Erik’s dreads while he licked and sucked on her sensitive folds.

“Oh, gosh, I’m cumming, baby.”

After her body went through that explosive experience that covered Erik’s beard and mouth Y/N laughs softly as Erik crawled up her body.

“You’re mouth is fucking dangerous,” she licked her essence from his lips, “You fucking me, right?”

“What you think?” He spoke with a deep husky tone. Erik went for her lips again, Damn near sucking her face off. She giggled from him tickling her with the light and soft kisses he placed down her neck and over her chest. Y/N wraps her arms around Erik’s neck and her legs around his waist. He was so damn hard that all he had to do was use the power of his hips to enter her pussy. The minute he did, Y/N let out a heavenly moan. Erik sat up on his elbows and plowed into her with a craving so addictive he couldn’t see himself fucking her just this once tonight. Y/Ns head was damn near hanging over the edge of the bed.

“We’re gonna fall off!!!” She spoke in a breathless tone.

“I gotchu,” Erik sucked on her nipples, “This pussy just too good baby.”

“Oh, yeah?” She fucked him back, “how about now?”

“Much better,” His wide dimpled smile warmed her heart.

The rhythm of their body had the bed rocking. The sound of their sex mixed with their loud moans drowned out the comedy movie. Y/N squeezed Erik’s firm ass causing him to sigh against her lips. His hands gripped the edge of the bed as he took control and fucked into his woman with his eyes burning through hers.

“Shit, Daddy!” She dragged her nails down his spine, “Fuck my pussy like that!”

One particular thrust had her body slipping further from the bed.

“Erik—“

“Fuck!” Before he could even save her and himself from falling off the bed they both tumbled to the carpeted floor wrapped in each others bodies. Y/N burst into laughter, clutching her naked chest. Erik lifted up on his elbows looking down at her before snorting a laughter himself. They were literally high off of laughing.

“I cannot stop laughing,” she shook her head, covering her eyes with her hands, “Might as well fuck me on the floor, daddy.”

“I ain’t getting back up, shit,” He was still deep inside of her. He sat up and pulled Y/N into his lap. She wrapped her legs around him and Erik placed his hands on her waist. He bounced her in his lap, the sound of her ass cheeks clapping on his thighs. She grabbed the edge of the bed to hold on for the ride.

“This the best pussy you ever had,” she was telling him not asking.

“Fuck yes, this good pussy.”

Y/N gripped Erik’s thighs and started bouncing and grinding her hips even more. Her titties damn near hit his face. She smiled down at him with those sexy lips.

“You having fun, huh!” Erik grabs her ass and spreads his thighs to thrust up into her, “look at you bouncing on the dick like you on a pogo stick!”

“You like that shit,” She threw her head back, “Damn, Daddy I’m gonna cum on this dick again!”

“You fucking better or I’m getting that ass,” Erik warns.

“Shit—“

“Come on, give me that sloppy puss—“

“OH MY GOD!”

Her head fell forward against Erik’s shoulder. She placed kisses on his neck as her body shook around him from her orgasm.

“I fucking love this dick, baby.”

“You gonna make me cum now?”

“Should I?” Y/N teases.

“What you mean?” Erik grabbed her face to look at him, “Don’t play with me, Y/N.”

“I feel like playing now.”

Y/N lifts from Erik’s body to jump up on the bed. Erik’s jaw tightened with annoyance. He lifts from the floor, walking up to the bed and reaching out to grab her leg. Y/N jerked herself back quickly, laughing.

“I’m not chasing you, Y/N, stop playing and come give me that pussy.”

“Awww, Daddy’s mad,” Y/N placed a fake pout on her lips, “too bad I don’t care.”

Erik was on the bed now, his strong arms springing forward, grabbing Y/N’s ankles and making her fall to the bed. Her body bounced and she squealed. Erik crawled over to her quickly, grabbing her wrists to trap her beneath him.

Erik chuckles, “too late.”

“You must think I’m playing,” Erik thrusts forward inside of her again, “keep still and stop playing around!”

“Okay!” She watched Erik pull her legs back so far that her feet touched the head board.

“Dont be surprised if I wake up pregnant with you fucking me like this, Daddy.”

Her slick walls coated his dick. Erik locked Y/N’s ankles with one hand as he used all might to drill Y/N’s pussy. She was tapping the bed with her hand from how intense he was moving.

“Don’t tap out now, be a champ,” Erik swivels his hips inside of her, “what I tell you? Let me take this pussy, girl. Cut that shit out.”

“How are you not cumming?!!!”

“Shut up,” Erik playfully bites her neck.

Her pussy was way too sensitive at this point. She was a shaking mess beneath Erik the more he fucked her. Y/N reaches out to grab his balls to play with because the shit drove him crazy.

“I see what you’re doing,” He flips her over, “now who’s playing?”

Y/N was not prepared for the way he fucked her from the back. Erik had her arms locked so she wouldn’t try and go for his nuts.

“You’re not playing fair!” She mumbled into the mattress.

“Fuck, now I’m about to cum! Goddamn!”

Her mouth fell open in a silent scream as her body rocked back against Erik’s. He lifted her up so that she was pressed against him. He thrust into her a couple more times before his hefty cum filled her pussy. She allowed her head to fall back against his shoulder to relish in the sensation of his cum inside of her.

“Damn, I needed that,” Erik kisses her neck, “I’m still hard though give me five minutes.”

“Oh, nah, uh-uh,” Y/N wasn’t having that she was exhausted, “Nah, nigga not tonight.”

“Please, Y/N? You know I usually don’t beg unless I really want something.”

“Erik, I’m a geriatric, remember?”

“Bruh,” He pushes Y/N down on the bed. She turned around with a glare on her face before tossing a pillow at his head.

“Now you’re definitely not getting some pussy.”

#killmonger smut #killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #killmonger imagine #nahimjustfeelingit writes

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voidingintotheshout · 4 years ago

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December 2nd: Two Sizes Too Small

“Gavin’s annual 12.12 Halloween party is starting in a half an hour babe, you just have to accept that you’re just not going to be able to fit into your Christmas suit this year.” Every year for Gavin’s annual party that was on December 12 every year, regardless of where that date fell on the calendar, Trevor would wear a pinkish-red suit with understated pastel green accents that always served to highlight all of the time he had spent at the gym. Unfortunately, over the last year Trevor had been spending more time at the dinner table, So that suit was far from fitting.

Jack felt a sense of pride and ownership over Trevor’s filled-out physique as his husband struggled to get his slim fit suit pants over his tree trunk thighs and seemingly ignoring the fact that even if he could get his pants up past his thighs, they were never going to be able to contain his thick, round ass. “I just don’t get it. It shouldn’t be this small. Are you sure you didn’t do something to it?”

Jack burst out laughing. “The only thing I did to that suit was feed you seconds at dinner every night. You have never looked hotter babe, but you need to accept that you have just gotten a little too round to be able to fit into that suit this year. You’re just gonna have to go in something else. Why don’t you wear those reddish orange pants you got a couple of weeks ago with your green polo shirt and you can throw on a red ascot, the one that you wore for your Valentine’s Day Cupid costume? The wild west themed one?”

“God, why don’t I just wear a red sweatshirt and green sweat pants. Maybe they’ll still fit.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. That other outfit I suggested will totally fit. Well, at least I don’t think you’ve gotten too fat for that ascot.”

Trevor laughed so bright & free that his laughter lit up the room. “Oh my God babe, would you stop?!?” Trevor said, throwing his hands in the air and frustration at his needling husband. In doing, so he was expecting the pants to fall down around his ankles but they were wedged tight on his thick frame.

“It’s time to give up on that suit. We need to leave for the party soon and we’re definitely going, because we’re bringing a dish.” Jack looked at his chunky, manly husband, belly spilling out of a shirt that had no hope of being able to fit. He was only able to get the buttons around his pectorals button and even then, the fabric was stretching quite a bit, below his sternum, the buttons weren’t able to come within two or 3 inches of each other and his jacket look like it would never be able to even get past his lovehandles, let alone be able to button. He had already complained last year when he had bulked up and gained a lot of muscle that the very thinly cut suit jacket was already starting to really constrict. That along with all the weight he put on this year, there was no way that jacket was going to get across his middle.

Jack saw his husband huff and puff ever so slightly as he struggled to get the suit off as quickly as possible. He sat there, in only a somewhat tight pair of underwear as Jack heard the timer in the kitchen ding, announcing their dish was ready. Brownies, à la mode. he looked guiltily at the kitchen and then back at his husband. “It’s OK.” Trevor said, sitting on the bed, slumped forward ever so slightly, hands on his stomach. I did promise to try one of your Brownies, à la mode before the party. I’m honestly looking forward to it. That suit is in the past. We can get another one that’s in my size for next year.”

You mean it?!? It’s okay?“

“Yeah.” He got up off the bed instructed towards Jack, eyes smoky with desire. “I was a big sexy man before when I had muscles and abs and I’m a big sexy man now with my extra size and curves. I know I’m sexy, you always make me feel that way. It’s just clothes. Now I’m going to get dressed while you take care of the food. That way, you can get dressed while you’re watching me eat my sundae.”

“Oh my God! I totally forgot to get myself ready! I don’t have anything as nice as what you’re wearing.” Jack seemed to remember some thing and rummaged around the back of the closet “I was going to give this to you soon, but I think now is a better time. I got you some underwear in the next size up so you’ll have a little bit more room under what you’re wearing. I hope you’re not mad.”

“I’m guessing you were waiting until I figured out that I’ve been fattened up?”

“Fattened up? I don’t know what you—”

“Come on. All the fattening food? Always bringing me snacks and desserts? I figured out what you were doing, but I liked being pampered and I found that I didn’t mind putting on weight… but being reminded of how much weight I’ve put on, can be tough sometimes. Besides, I already have the perfect thing for you to wear at the party. Nobody will be able to keep their eyes off of you. You’re going to be the talk of the party.”

Jack’s eyes grew wide as he looked at his sexy, thick husband, grateful that their daughter was with relatives so they could just focus on getting ready. “Am I going to regret agreeing to this?”

“I hope you don’t regret it any more than I’m going to regret asking for a double portion of that sundae before we even leave for a party that is going to be buried in food.”

“I see a belly rub in your future.“

“You better. Because I see a belly in my future.”

“Future? I see a belly in your present!” Jack said, and motioning to Trevor’s midsection.

“Bitch! How dare you imply that I am getting fat, now hurry up and get me that serving- platter- sized portion of dessert that I can wolf down before I spend the next three hours eating. The nerve.” Trevor muttered in mock-outrage as he grabbed his clothes for the party, including the larger size underwear which he smiled slightly at the thoughtfulness of, as Jack made his way to the kitchen to get the food out of the oven before it became too dry, as well as the other things he needed to get ready for the party.

He pulled the two trays of brownies out of the oven. They were Ghirardelli’s Triple Chocolate brownies. He had to quadruple the recipe so that there were enough brownies for Trevor and the guests at the party. He let’s letting one tray cool on the oven with some tin foil loosely placed on top and from the other one, he cut a block of brownie the size of a paperback and grabbed one of the two gallon containers of vanilla bean ice cream from the freezer and put two generous scoops of vanilla ice cream on top. He then grabbed one of the two containers of hot fudge, microwaved it for about 20 seconds just to soften it and drizzled it all over the top. He smelled it and it smelled delicious.

He then turned to get ready. He put the unopened ice cream, hot fudge, walnuts, and the six-pack of their favorite beer into one of the bags and he left the uncut tray of brownies to cool on the stove. He took the tray of brownies that had the giant block cut out of it and wrapped it in tinfoil and put it in the fridge, making a note to encourage Trevor to eat more leftovers between meals to make some room. “I’m ready honey! I’m dressed! You need to get ready. We have to leave in five minutes. Even if we are fashionably late we still need to leave in 10 minutes and you’re not even dressed yet.”

“Coming!”

“Not till after the party. We’re running late.”

“Funny.” Jack grabbed Trevor’s pre-dinner dessert, needing to double back halfway out of the kitchen to get a fork with which he would eat it. There was a time in the future where it might get sexy to see Trevor eating with his hands because he was just so hungry but that day was not today. Jack brought the desert into the bedroom in there, on the bed next to his beautiful husband outfitted in a gorgeous suit, complete with the red ascot with Valentine’s Day hearts on it— was Trevor’s Christmas Suit. “What—what is this? You always wear this.”

Well, I’m glad to see that I’m still just as good an actor now as I was all those years ago back in college. I took one look at that suit two weeks ago and when I realized there was no way I was ever going to be able to fit my fat ass into that, but then I realized that you’ve been working out a lot and you now have the muscles to be able to wear that thing. While you were in the kitchen taking care of the food, I did a quick and dirty cuffing of the pants, to make up for the fact that you’re a couple of inches shorter than I am so the whole thing should fit you really well.”

“But it was always too small for me. I was never as toned as you.” Jack said, as the reality of their new situation dawned on him.

“It was, but you have been working out consistently over the last year as I have been, well, pigging out on your food. You are now the lean, trim one in the relationship and I’m becoming the fat one. I have so many amazing clothes in that closet that are made for someone with your exact physique and I don’t want them to just sit in the closet collecting dust until I eventually I donate them. I’ll feel a lot less bad about all of this weight that I’m probably going to be putting on over the next year if I know that someone is at least enjoying all of those amazing clothes that I’ve collected over the years. I want you to wear my Christmas suit this year and, probably next year because, if I can’t be the one everyone is staring at because I’m the hottest guy at the party, then I want everyone to be staring at me because of how lucky I am to have that hot piece of arm candy next to me. Now give me that damn dessert so I can eat it while watching you slip into that sexy suit.”

Jack watched as Trevor dived into the desert with gusto, a small way of saying that Jack should do the same and so Jack, fearlessly shucked his clothes and gingerly put himself into the Christmas suit which, did fit slightly differently, being more snug in some places and looser in others but it was a custom tailored suit with Trevor’s exact measurements in mind, but when Jack got dressed and looked at himself in the mirror, he was surprised that he didn’t see that chunky dude he remembered in the mirror. He saw a hot guy looking back at him.

He heard a fork clatter on a now empty plate and he glanced behind him to see his chunky husband using a finger to lick up the last of the chocolate sauce as he got up off the bed the stand near him at the mirror. “You’ve got to remember babe. I fell for you in that bar all of those years ago because I thought you were cute, the jelly roll around your waist didn’t matter any more than the jelly roll around my waist matters now. We love each other for who we are. I’m proud to have you be the one getting all of the stares and hungry looks because it makes me feel really good to have such an awesome and hot dude coming home to me every night. Think you’re you ready to go to this party? I just got a message that the Uber’s going to be here in two minutes.”

“I’m definitely ready. I’ll get the food, you get the doors?”

Good plan, I can’t eat doors on the way to the party.”

“Unless they’re made of gingerbread.”

“If only!” Trevor replied, laughing as they made their way into the kitchen to leave for the party.

#25daysofchubmas #original fiction #gainer fiction #chubmas #trevor and jack

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drakewalkerfantasy · 5 years ago

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Consequences: Chapter 13

Synopsis: Two people from two different worlds, two complete strangers come together for a night of solace from their moment of anger and hurt. By consequence, they were brought together and their fates intertwined. What will happen when the reality of the one night’s actions filled with lust and anger will hit them both? What will happen with two complete strangers who seem to have nothing in common? Or do they have more in common than they thought?

Words: 2432

Authors notes: Some chapters maybe NSFW or have a mature content. Also English isn’t my native language so sorry for any mistakes I make.

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Beckett Harrington x TE MC (Maeve)

**Warnings: unplanned pregnancy, some heated kiss, some D*** words, cursing**

“What are you doing here?” repeated Maeve, her arms clenching the throw blanket, pressing it closer to her chest.

“I brought you dinner. I just thought you may be hungry, as you barely left your room since we got back from the morgue,” said Beckett, nodding towards the tray, noticing how Maeve’s eyes widened when they landed on the metal tray in his hand. He could swear that he caught how her eyes lit up, but the light disappeared as quickly as it appeared, turning her eyes back to forest green. She looked at him for a moment, her mouth opened slightly and her lips forming a perfect O.

“Did you brought me a romantic dinner?” she asked, a slight blush coloring her cheeks, her voice holding a teasing note trying to break an awkward silence that fell between them. Her brow raised in amazement, watching how his eyes widened, looking at the tray in his hand and how this may look.

“No... it’s just... it’s not what you think it is. It's just... I just thought that you...,” he gasped, stumbling over his words. “Never mind,” he spoke finally after taking a deep breath. ”I just thought you need to eat, that’s it. Here,” he abruptly stood up, shoving a tray onto her lap. “Also I made you my grandma’s calming herbal tea. It helped my sister... with her nerves,” he said, heading towards the door.

“Wait,” exclaimed Maeve, surprising them both by her outburst, the tray trembled in her lap from a sudden movement. “Sorry, I was just messing with you, and this... this is nice of you to make all of that for me. Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice. “Do... do you want to stay?” she asked before she could stop herself from asking the question. She could see how Beckett’s hand froze on the door’s knob and his posture tensed. Slowly he turned to face Maeve, his eyes searching her face for any indication that she was still messing with him before he spoke.

“Are you sure you want me to stay?” he asked, watching Maeve nod hesitantly. “Here is only one plate for each meal and only one set of cutlery,” he said in a whisper, giving her a chance to take the offer back. Too afraid to speak louder, knowing that his voice would betray him if he did.

“Technically, there are two forks what isn’t a set, and regarding food... you put so much food that I definitely could use some help to make sure that food wouldn’t go to waste,” Maeve said.

“Okay,” Beckett finally agreed, taking hesitant steps toward Maeve’s bed, his eyes fixed on hers this whole time, not leaving them even for a heartbeat. When he finally reached her bed, he stood quiet not sure if he should seat there or move an armchair toward her bed.

“Sit,” Maeve said finally with a smile tugging on her lips, amazed by his hesitation. “It’s not like you didn’t seat there just a moment ago.”

“Yes, but...”

“No buts just seat, please,” said Maeve, looking at him expectantly, waiting when he would finally take a place next to her. After a moment he finally sat down handing Maeve a cup of tea from the tray

“First, drink that,” he said, watching Maeve taking the cup suspiciously, sniffing at it. “It’s just a herbal tea, something my grandma made for Katrina... my sister when she was p... when she was going through a rough time,” explained Beckett. “It’s safe. I promise,” he murmured.

“Okay,” Maeve said, taking the first sip, feeling how the liquid gently coated her from inside, making nausea retreat. By the time she drunk the last drops, she could feel how her nerves became calmer, and her stomach stopped turning over.

“Feeling better,” asked Beckett, who waited patiently when she would finish her tea, watching how colors slowly started to return to her face, painting her cheeks.

“Much better,” she murmured softly, meeting Beckett’s gaze. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” mumbled Beckett before clearing his throat. “Should we?” he asked, pointing toward the tray.

“Be my guest,” she smiled, handing him a fork, before both dig into the meal.

After the first bite, the delicious sound escaped Maeve's throat, and she closed her eyes in delight, enjoying the richness of tastes. Slowly she opened her eyes, curiously looking at Beckett. As if feeling her gaze at him, he raised his eyes to meet hers, questioningly raising his eyebrow.

“What,” he asked after a moment of silence, “Did I got something on my face, and you think of the way how to tell me about that?”

“No, your face is perfectly clean. I just wondered where did you learn to cook like that? I just thought... Nevermind,” she said averting her eyes, regretting instantly the words that almost left her tongue.

Maeve, you are an idiot... she berated herself angrily, chewing nervously on her lower lip, hoping that he didn’t catch what she almost said. He just now did something nice for you... even not knowing what is happening and you wanted to tell him you thought he was just another rich boy who even doesn’t know how to switch on a microwave not to mention the stove. I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but I need to try and get to know him better, not to try and assault him all the time. I just need to get to know him before... before I will drop the bomb I now carry inside me on him... Before...

Her thought fell flat after she heard Beckett’s voice reached her ears, the soft deep chuckle escaping his throat, bringing her back to reality.

“What... you thought that I’m one of those rich boys who doesn’t know even how to switch on the microwave, not to mention to cook anything on the stove? Even something as simple as boiled pasta, not to mention that,” he nodded toward risotto in front of them, making Maeve blush in embarrassment, that he figured out what she wanted to tell.

“I... sorry,” she mumbled, not meeting his gaze, the slight blush still dusting her cheeks.

“Don’t be,” Beckett said with a hesitant smile before bringing another fork with food to his mouth.

“Where did you learn how to cook like that?” finally asked Maeve after a moment of silence. “Or your motto is, be best in everything or not try at all?”

“My motto may be that, but it would be no use if not for my grandma. She was the one who taught me how to cook. She loved cooking and was great at doing this, so she made sure that I and my sister knew the basics. As she always used to say, one day you will be thanking me that you have this important skill in your baggage, one day you may have no servants or money, but you always will have this knowledge and ability to feed yourself,” Beckett sigh, falling silent as the memory of his grandma flooded his mind.

“So... what other hobbies do you have?” asked Maeve after taking a sip of orange juice. “I know you are good with programming, not so bad at dancing, decent at cooking. So what else you can do,” she said, her voice filled with notes of teasing and her eyes getting back some light that she lost after the news she was keeping securely locked in the depth of her bedside table.

“Hmmmmm, I also took singing and piano lessons,” admitted Beckett after a moment. “What about you?” he quickly asked, before she could ask anything else.

The rest of their meal, they spent by sharing their interests and hobbies. Talking about the people who were important in their lives, smiling and laughing together, both forgetting for a moment of the circumstances, that brought them here.

Finishing with their meal, Maeve moved the tray to the side, sighing in satisfaction, before unconsciously rubbing her belly. Beckett’s eyes involuntarily moved to her hand, watching her action, not sure what to say anymore, unsure if he even should be here at that moment. Silently he started to rise from Maeve’s bed before she stopped him gently, placing her hand on top of his, making him freeze from the contact. His heart skipped the beat before started to race inside his chest. This touch felt so much different than every brushing and touching of their hands during the meal. Unlike those fleeting touches, this sent a current of electricity through him, setting his blood on fire. And it seemed that Maeve felt it too by the way her eyes widened slightly, and her lips parted, letting the soft gasp to escape them.

“Thank you again,” she spoke in a hushed whisper, squeezing his hand. “I really had a great time. And thank you for the tea, not sure what magic did you use, but it definitely helped. I feel much better, so... thank you.”

“I’m glad it helped,” whispered Beckett in a hoarse voice, the tension between them growing, crackling, and sparkling, electrifying the air between them when their eyes met.

It seemed as if some unseen force pushed them toward each other, and their lips met halfway, hungry, and needy to be connected. Beckett’s hand instantly went to be woven into Maeve’s hair, pulling her closer, wanting to taste more of her, craving more of her. While Maeve’s hands fisted his shirt. Their lips crushed together, meeting again and again. The passion between them grew, and the tension was ready to explode, consuming both of them. Beckett’s tongue darted inside Maeve’s mouth, curling against hers, deepening the kiss as if the distance between them still felt too much, as if he couldn’t get enough of her sweetness. They both moaned in unison, their kisses heated and passionate, their hands exploring each other, their minds clouded by the desire, not able to break apart. Their kisses got more desperate as if they had no tomorrow, kissing as if not able to get enough of each other, forgetting about everything that they kept from each other, forgetting every single argument and the assumption they made. After a while that seemed like an instant, they broke apart, panting heavily for air, still only an inch apart. Their foreheads touching, their eyes closed, and their hands still holding each other close. Slowly, their breathing returned to normal, and with that came realization how close they came to cross the line they weren’t ready to cross. A single thought floated in their minds so similar and so different at the same time, but as powerful and no less forbidding.

At least not now... not when she carries another man’s child. thought Beckett taking a deep breath before moving further away from the girl in front of him.

At least not now... not when he has no idea I’m carrying his child. thought Maeve, squeezing into the headboard as if trying to move as far away from him as possible.

Their eyes met, both holding a shocked expression, their lips were swollen, and their clothes wrinkled, the soft blush touching their cheeks before Beckett finally stood up, taking a tray from Maeve’s bed without saying a single word still shocked from what almost happened.

When Beckett reached the door, he turned around, clearing the throat.

“Sorry,” Beckett said hoarsely. “Have a good night,” he added before exiting the room and closing it behind him with a soft click.

His heart thundering inside his chest, and his fists clenched, never in his life was he more confused than now about his own feelings; always knowing what exactly he felt. But now, standing in the dim light of their hallway, he didn’t know what he felt. He thought that this was only lust, the feeling that originally pushed them toward each other, making them lose themselves into the whirlwind of passion, the feeling that he could explain as a chemical reaction, and the amount of alcohol they consumed. But today, today was different. It wasn’t a drunk kiss that led them to have sex, it wasn’t a kiss that was fuelled by anger or argument. This kiss was different. It was as he just couldn’t stop it, as if he felt the pull between them, the pull that he couldn’t ignore or resist even if he would try to... the issue was that he didn’t want to resist, subconsciously wanting for that kiss to happen, wanting to feel her tongue against his, to taste her sweetness. And if not the obstacles between them, he wouldn’t stop it even if his life would depend on it. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes, trying to compose himself before moving back to his room, feeling the unbearable tightness of his jeans and the straining of his hardness against the coarse material.

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

The next morning Beckett woke up earlier than he would usually do, heading toward the kitchen to make breakfast. Quickly he set to work, preparing a waffle dough and breaking some eggs in the pan, meantime making a herbal tea for Maeve. He leaned against the counter, waiting for the waffles and eggs to be thoroughly cooked while sipping his coffee. The divine aroma filling the kitchen. He could hear the soft clicks of Maeve’s heels distantly coming from above, echoing along the empty hallway. He furrowed his brows to the memory of yesterday’s kiss that flooded his mind, still feeling the persistent tingling on his lips. And as much as he wanted to forget that this ever happened or push the memory of it away, he couldn’t as his thoughts brought him back to that moment, again and again, making him miserable, making him want more. He sighed heavily, rubbing his free hand over his eyes as if trying to erase the image of Maeve’s swollen lips and her lust-blown eyes from his mind, feeling how his dick twitched to attention, ready to punch something to make this image disappear.

Suddenly he heard a loud knock at the door, making Beckett to furrow his brow, not expecting anyone at that early hour. He moved quickly toward the door, throwing it open. The moment he opened it, he froze on the spot, feeling how his fists clenched and his jaw tensed instantly, feeling the anger coursing through his blood, but trying to stay calm.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Beckett hissed through the gritted teeth, blocking the entrance. His body loomed over uninvited a guest, not letting to enter the house.

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permanentcrossfics · 5 years ago

Text

Blurred Lines Part 2 // h.s.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tomorrow.”

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

Part I on Patreon // Tumblr // Wattpad

Read now on Patreon // Tumblr // Wattpad

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tomorrow.”

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

“Hi.”

“Hi….”

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

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

“Sure.”

Click.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, what’d you come here for?”

“Hmm?”

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

Christ, knock that off.

“Why’re you in London?”

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

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

“Not work?”

“Nope.”

“Meeting your friends?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

“You gonna make me sleep in there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I mean, I don’t— mmph— S’just….”

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

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

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

“I need to brush my teeth.”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

“Hey.”

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

“D’I scare you?”

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

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

“Still?”

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

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

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

“Do you get distracted a lot?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What kind of question’s that?”

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

“Did you miss me?”

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

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

“Did you—?”

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

“Harry—!”

Crack.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I missed you… missed you, too— oh!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

“I should probably think about going home soon.”

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

No.

Don’t.

Why?

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

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

Behind him, you were quiet, and he tingled.

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

“I know.”

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

“When did you decide?”

“It was a round trip ticket.”

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

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

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

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

He took a deep breath.

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

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

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

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

“Harry—“

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why are you saying yes?”

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We were never supposed to….”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Could stay with me,” you said.

He nodded. “I like that Mexican place.”

“El Diablito.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about it?” he asked.

“Thought about adopting it?”

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

“Is it a bad one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I?”

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

“Fuck!”

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

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

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

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

CRACK.

“Oh!”

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

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

“Harry— ah!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you—?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me too,” you gasped.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded against his shoulder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.”

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

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

Next month good?

#harry smut #harry styles smut #harry x reader #harry fanfic #harry one shot #harry blurb #permanentcross #original writing #blurred lines 2

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