#I’m so glad you adore tv girl too

[talewrites]

It’s the Little Things

Hope you enjoy my gushy short little fic :]

(I posted this once before but I was too embarrassed so I took it down. Putting it back now 😂)

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

TMNT Raphael x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral

Warnings: RIDICULOUSLY mushy, self-serving fluff, kissed while asleep

The rain quietly pattered against the dark window panes as the light from the TV flashed in the glass’s reflection. It was the end of a very long patrol, and Raph had made it back to your apartment quite late. As usual.

But as usual, you were up waiting for him with a hot dinner lovingly prepared.

Your daily lives were vastly different from each other. You ran a quiet bookstore in a reclusive area downtown, while Raph was one of the city’s fierce vigilante heroes alongside his brothers. You were definitely an odd couple. But you had your moments.

Moments like these- Raph thought gratefully as he swallowed another bite of your steaming homemade stew, piled onto a thick slice of buttered sourdough bread. He closed his eyes as he savored the rich flavor, saturated in red wine and melty slow-cooked beef, and had to stifle himself from moaning around the food in his mouth. Somehow you always managed to make the most delicious food, the kind that could warm and comfort tired and aching bones after a long day.

Speaking of you.

:readmore:

Raphael glanced across the small wooden dinner table in their comfy little apartment, and found you sitting with your chin propped up on your crossed hands, with a glowing joyful expression on your face as you happily watched him enjoying the meal you’d made.

- and Raph immediately turned his head away, already beginning to feel his cheeks burning under his mask.

“…..It’s good.” He said gruffly, not daring to chance another glance across the table as he practically felt your joy intensify from his praise.

“ I’m glad~” It was a humble, yet cheerful response. Yet, somehow it left something fluttering in the large turtle’s chest. His face scrunched up tensely as he tried to will away the building heat in his cheeks, and resorted to hiding his face in the bowl of the heavenly stew.

…..Raphael was quite certain you would someday be the death of him.

Later that night, after you two had had your fill of dinner and the pot and bowls were soaking in the sink, you curled up together on your old couch in front of the TV. Raph was watching the evening news, followed by a mobster period drama he found he secretly enjoyed. While you had made home with a blanket and a book curled up in the grumpy turtle’s lap.

Raphael was lazily watching the TV and gratefully melting into the couch, letting his head tip back and stretch out the sore muscles in his neck. He barely noticed the pressure of you snuggled up warmly on his lap, already so accustomed to the feeling that at this point it would be more strange without it. When suddenly, he heard a clatter and flop from what sounded like your book sliding to the floor. He looked back up, expecting you to clamor up to retrieve it, but found you made no movement.

“……..?...” Raph looked down to check on you, and was met with the adorable sight of your peaceful sleeping face. Your head resting comfortably against his chest as you breathed slowly and deeply. A hand curled up under your chin while he other was pressed flat against his chest.

Raphael immediately felt his whole face heat up deeply at the sight, having to turn his head away and place a hand over his mouth for a moment to insure he wouldn’t explode from the sudden swell of feelings building up in his chest. He tried taking a deep breath to calm himself down. ‘What am I, a teenage girl….?’ He chastised himself as he calmed down enough to look back to you.

‘……Are they really asleep?’ He wondered. Raph studied your face, checking for signs of movement behind your eyes, but became caught up admiring the long strokes of your eyelashes against your cheek. It was just a small detail, but somehow, it sparked a warm feeling in him.

Raph found himself staring quietly at you as you dozed, and he became captured by your features as he gazed at you so closely. Your little nose, your soft complexion, playfully messy licks of your hair, the soft line of your jaw…. The corners of Raph’s mouth began to pull up in a kind smile as he gazed at you. Quietly, he drew up his hand to comb some stray hairs into place, and trailed down to gently stroke across your cheek, until the pad of his thumb came to brush softly across your lips.

Raphael was completely enthralled, and lost himself in his delicate ministrations. Before he even realized it, he found himself leaning in closely, until his lips connected lightly with yours. It was a delicate, revering, chaste kiss, one he would never have the courage to initiate around your waking self. But right now, not even the adoring (and embarrassing) gaze of his lover was present to shy him away from his enamor.

You stirred at the ticklish sensation, brows drawing together and making a soft cute sound as you sighed into the kiss, drawn awake by your boyfriend’s soft touches.

Raphael froze still upon hearing the small sleepy noise come from you. His heart fluttered nervously in his chest, afraid he had been caught in his intimate moment. Slowly, he pulled away from your lips and looked down at your face. Raph was met with the sight of lidded eyes staring up at him, with a faint blush and sleepy smile gracing your face.

Raph was indeed caught. But before he could fully process his quickly rising embarrassment, you quickly shut your eyes and feigned sleep once again.

“........???????” He was very confused now. That was definitely not the reaction he was expecting.

“......(y/n).....?” Raph called out to check on you, not exactly sure what to do in this turn of events after being caught sweetly kissing his sleeping lover. But you just kept your eyes closed, a very loving smile still painting your face.

“Mmh...... no..... I’m still asleep....... keep kissing me......~” You whispered sleepily from your spot nestled in the crook of his arms.

Raph was stunned. It felt as if an arrow had pierced his heart and warmed his whole body from head to toe. Your smile only grew wider from feeling him go tense, and your hand slowly reached up to stroke against Raph’s rough cheek, tempting him to draw back in until your lips met once again.“Mmh~” You made a happy sound that hummed ticklishly against Raph’s lips, breaking him out of his surprise and enticing him to return the kiss.

It was soft, slow, and wet, how your lips moved against each other in your own quiet revere under the comfortable cover of night. You both drew away for breath, only to gravitate in to meet again and again to taste each other. Raph became emboldened as your hand lazily trailed up to push up his mask, and he leaned down to start peppering kisses across your face. Smooching your nose, your eyelids, the dips of your cheeks, your brows, forehead, and the corners of your mouth. He smooched his lover softly until you were left giggling softly in his arms. He paused to listen to the adorable sound, more bright and peaceful than any church bells, before he went back to praise and worship those velvety lips once again.

You kissed back more slowly than before, your passion still there but your energy seemed to be waning. Your hand slid from Raph’s cheek and came to rest on his chest, and you felt your mind grow fuzzy from the gentle brushes of his lips. Soon, you felt yourself melt completely back into Raph’s warm embrace, as your sleepiness overcame you once again at the parting of one more kiss.

Raphael paused for only a moment to catch his breath between loving smooches, before he moved to return once again. He softly brushed his lips against yours in quiet invitation, but surprisingly, he found that you did not return his kiss. Instead, he felt the slow gentle draws of breath against his lips. You had fallen fast asleep with your head nestled against his shoulder, lulled to rest by his sweet kisses.

Raphael paused as your breaths tangled in the small space between your lips. All he could do was stare into the peaceful resting expression of his lover wrapped warmly in his embrace. His gaze didn’t leave your lips, swollen red from his attention. The soft breath of sleep tickling against his own sensitive lips. The large turtle felt a smile tugging at his mouth at the sight of his normally energetic partner so easily put to sleep in his arms. He wondered briefly if he could ever endure this level of affection from you at your usual energy, and came to the conclusion that he would most likely combust after only a few seconds.

Raph eventually came back to his senses. His cheeks heating into a bright red glow of self-consciousness as recognition dawned of his own actions.

“...........shit.”

Raphael closed his eyes tightly shut as he tried to shut out the feeling of steam rising from his head. He ducked his head, burying his heated face into your hair as he tried to suppress the building need to implode from embarrassment. He silently muttered excuses but quickly gave in to the strong feelings clenching in his chest.

He was helplessly in love with you.

(He was still denying it.)

“...........What are you doing to me shorty...” He quietly mumbled, resentfully, yet, adoringly into your hair.

(But of course, that won’t stop him from trying to suffocate these embarrassing feelings. He had a reputation to uphold after all.)

But it was times like these, under the privacy of a silent night, with sweet words and gentle touches, that Raphael gave in.

It’s the little things.

And he carried you off to bed.

The End

#tmnt fanfic #tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt 2014 x reader #tmnt 2016 x reader #tmnt imagines #bayverse raphael #bayverse raphael x reader

[chrollohearttags]

hmm for the hc request how about shy football player!reiner and nerd!reader meeting in college because of a shared class? I would think he would be so shy to talk to her because shes sooo sweet and pretty and thick. and he doesnt want to drive her away because of the popularity being a football player.

omg this is literally how I imagine him being! like this is so adorable 🥺

!football player reiner, one of the most popular guys on campus and the star quarterback of the college football team is extremely well liked and loved by the ladies. Despite this, he is very shy and anxious. So he doesn’t talk much.

!football player reiner, who rarely paid attention to anyone because his social anxiety was through the roof first saw you in his math class and couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was enamored because you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

considering that he had cheerleaders and sorority girls practically throwing themselves his way, it was a bit of a shock as to why he would be fixated on you but with those cute kinky curls, round glasses on that pretty face, big doe brown eyes and gorgeous dark complexion. Not to mention the jiggle that your stacked features done when you walked out of the classroom…it was his dream. But you’d probably never know that!

!football player reiner, who’s struggling in class seeks out a tutor to avoid losing his spot on the team but he’s too scared to ask for help.

“I’d be more than happy to help you, Reiner.”

shocked to learn that you’re the math tutor and comforted all the same. Only problem is, not freezing up when he speaks! Which is impossible when he gets close to you.

!football player reiner, who’s face is literally plastered all over the campus and the tv every Saturday is blushing like a schoolgirl as he sits across from you. You can’t figure out why he’s being so quiet but you try to push your own boundaries and speak first.

you ask him if he’s okay and if he’s ready to start? Mans starts stuttering and laughing all nervously. The sound of your sweet, innocent voice is driving him crazy. He wants to talk but he’s so afraid of embarrassing himself and saying the wrong thing.

“I-uh. Yes. I’m ready to start. Sorry, I’m just a little nervous.”

“The school quarterback nervous? Please, you’re probably just saying that. No need to be shy around someone like me.”

!football player reiner, who loves downplaying his popularity swears that he’s no big deal and that he’s just glad you decided to help a dummy like him.

“Aww, don’t speak about yourself like that! You’re really smart, we just all need help sometimes and that’s okay. You’ll pass this test in no time, I promise.”

literally this man wants to melt hearing you talk to him like that.

eventually though, he’s able to get through the session and you’re able to teach him a lot. As does the next five or so before your next exam.

he loves stealing glances of you; just staring in awe of your beauty as you explain away equations and formulas. You’re just so damn pretty, he can’t help himself.

!football player reiner, who could be at practice, a party with his teammates or in a room full of Barbie dolls wouldn’t care in the slightest about any of them because you’re on the front of his mind. That smile, that cute laugh and pretty face..it’s all he thinks about!

!football player reiner, who thanks to your help, passes his test with flying colors and he’s so relieved!

!football player reiner, who immediately comes find you to tell the good news and say thanks is a blundering mess when he sees the adorable outfit you’re wearing that day and your makeup done.

“I just uh—wanted to say thank you..for helping me. I appreciate it so much.”

totally just stands there all nervous, still not finished but unable to get his words out to ask you the question he’s been dying to: which is would you get coffee or go to lunch with him as a token of gratitude.

“Is that what you were trying to ask me? That’s so sweet, thank you Reiner!”

he’s so expecting you turn him down because he knows how people are and would think that the two of you shouldn’t be in the same vicinity.

“Of course I’ll go, I’d like that a lot.”

mans heart is about to beat out of his chest thinking about it but he’s so happy you accepted. Smiling like he’s just hit the lottery.

#black fem reader #reiner x black y/n #reiner x black reader #reiner x reader #reiner x chubby black reader #reiner x plus size reader #reiner x reader fluff #plus size black reader #plus size black girl #plus size doll #reiner braun x black reader #reiner braun #aot reiner #aot fluff #aot x reader #aot boys #aot fanfiction #aot x black reader #aot x female reader #x black reader #black y/n #aot black reader fluff

[chelseachilly]

do you want to build a snowman?

pairing: reader x ben chilwell request: "ok so you and ben have a daughter around 3 or 4 and its her first time seeing snow so they take her outside to build a snowman :)" - anonymous warnings: fluffff, dad!ben word count: 2k

author’s note: thanks for all the requests!! i'm really getting in the flow of writing rn (and inspired by the holidays) so i'm going to do my best to write as many of them as i can! ❄️

-

“Is Daddy gonna be home soon?”

It’s not the first - or the second, or the fifth - time your daughter has asked this question since she woke up this morning. 

Ben left for training shortly before 8, and neither you nor your daughter Sophie were awake yet. You could’ve happily slept a few more hours, but Sophie woke you up not long after to excitedly announce that it had snowed overnight.

In her four years of life, your daughter has never seen a significant amount of snow, at least that she can recall. It snowed quite a bit on her first Christmas, but she was far too little to remember that, and since then there’s been nothing but a few flurries here and there or a light dusting on the rooftops.

She’s quite fascinated by the concept from watching movies and TV shows featuring winter activities and is currently deep in a Frozen phase, which means she’s obsessed with the idea of building a snowman. 

Over the past month as the weather got colder, you and Ben had tried to keep her expectations low as you weren’t sure you would get enough snow to make this dream a reality. You could tell it was killing Ben to disappoint her - he hates denying his little girl anything - and a few nights ago you caught him looking into booking a holiday to Switzerland or Finland or anywhere she would be guaranteed some snow.

Thankfully, today her prayers were answered, and you were fully prepared to bundle up and go outside with her before you even had your coffee, but she insisted on waiting for Ben. It was their plan to build the snowman together, Sophie told you, and she stuck to her decision even when you reminded her he wouldn’t be home for hours.

It‘s been pretty adorable watching her anxiously await her dad’s return all morning, pacing around the house and checking for his car in the driveway often. You can tell how badly she wants to go out and play in the glistening white snow, and the remarkable restraint she’s showing is a testament to how much of a daddy’s girl she is. 

“Not too much longer, sweetheart,” you assure her as you beckon her to come cuddle with you on the couch where you’re doing a bit of work on your laptop. “He texted a while ago and said he’ll be here as soon as he can.”

“Alright,” Sophie sighs. “Can you put on Frozen?”

You’ve watched this movie more times than you can count lately, and once already today, but you remind yourself that you signed up for this when you chose to be a parent as you’re queuing up Disney Plus once again. 

Later, when you’re nearing the end of the film and you’ve given up on doing any more work as long as your daughter is screaming the lyrics to each song, you hear the sound of the front door opening and closing. 

“Daddy!”

The movie is quickly abandoned as Sophie darts toward the foyer to greet Ben. You’re not too far behind her, though by the time you reach them she’s already in her dad’s arms.

“Daddy, it snowed!” Sophie exclaims, her little arms wrapped around Ben’s neck. “We have to build a snowman!”

“I know, darling,” Ben laughs, giving Sophie another squeeze before gently setting her down. “Why don’t you go get your coat on while I say hello to Mummy?”

Sophie nods and eagerly runs toward the closet to fetch her winter coat. As Ben drops his bag and makes his way over to you, you can see how tired he is from training. When he cups your face to give you a kiss, you can tell he’s also freezing. 

“How was training, baby?” you murmur, placing your hands on his to warm them up. 

“Cold,” Ben sighs. “Forgot how brutal it is training in the snow. I’m glad the gaffer let us go home early, though.”

“You and me both,” you smile, leaning in to kiss him again. “Maybe you should warm up a bit before going out to play with Soph?”

“No, she’s been waiting for me all day,” Ben says. “I’ll be fine.”

You know there’s no changing his mind, especially when Sophie comes running back into the room in her adorable little puffer jacket that nearly swallows her whole. You help her zip it up and grab mittens, a scarf and a hat to keep her warm, as well as some for you and Ben. 

Once you’re all ready to face the cold, you head out to the garden together. You and Ben have matching grins on your faces as you watch Sophie excitedly run through the snow for the first time, a core childhood memory being created right before your eyes. 

She gets to work right away on her snowman, rolling the snowball she’s formed as long as she can before it gets too heavy for her and she has to accept Ben’s help. 

You join in on their efforts, occasionally taking a break to take some photos of your daughter and husband that you already know are going to be your new phone background.

After some hard work - certainly for a four year old - the snowman is completed with a carrot nose and hat that you had prepared just for this occasion. 

“He looks great, Sophie!” you exclaim. “What’s his name? Olaf?”

Despite it being a fairly safe guess, Sophie looks at you like you have two heads.

“No, Mummy, Olaf doesn’t have a hat,” she reminds you very matter-of-factly. “His name is Tom.”

“Like Uncle Tom?” Ben chuckles, referring to his best friend and her godfather.

Sophie seems to contemplate this for a moment before shaking her head.

“No, because I want him to be Tom.”

You and Ben look at each other for a moment before bursting out into laughter. You both blame your daughter’s stubbornness on each other, though deep down you know it’s from both of you, but at times like this it’s both hilarious and adorable. 

“Fair enough, sweetie,” you say, bending down to give her a kiss on the forehead. “Now, I think some hot chocolate is in order. Ready to go in?”

“No, we have to make snow angels!”

Of course, this was another activity she had seen in films that she was dying to try for herself. 

“Alright,” you chuckle. “Why don’t we make snow angels while Daddy goes and warms up? He’s been out in the snow all day.”

The pout on Sophie’s face quickly tells you that she is not happy with this plan, and Ben swoops in before you can say anything else.

“I think I have a few snow angels left in me,” he smiles, picking Sophie up and balancing her on his hip. “Babe, can you start the hot chocolate while we finish up here?”

You raise an eyebrow at your husband but accept his proposal nonetheless, placing a quick kiss on both his and Sophie’s cheeks before heading inside. 

As you’re warming up the milk on the stovetop, you look out the window where Ben and Sophie are still playing, her excited giggles loud enough that you can hear her through the windowpane. 

Your heart is threatening to burst from the sweet scene, overflowing with love for your daughter and admiration for your amazing husband. No matter how tired he is from training, if he’s upset about a loss or injured or anything else, he always steps up for Sophie. You’ve known since you met him that he would be a great dad, but ever since you became parents, he’s continued to exceed your expectations.

Just as you’re pouring three steaming mugs of hot chocolate, you hear your family come in through the back door and begin to strip off their winter gear. 

To your delight, Sophie runs straight into the kitchen and hugs you tightly.

“I made five snow angels!” she exclaims as you run your hand up and down her back in an effort to warm her up. “Daddy made some big ones, too.”

“That’s amazing, love,” you smile, kissing her head. “You want some hot chocolate?”

“Yes! Can I put the marshmallows in?”

“Of course,” you say, lifting her up onto the counter and passing her the bag of mini marshmallows.

As much as she’s a daddy’s girl at heart, you also get your fair share of moments when your daughter seems to only want her mother. You know how special her bond is with Ben, and you really can’t blame her for how much she loves spending time with him, but you still cherish the little things that just for the two of you - making hot chocolate with extra marshmallows being one of them. 

You carry the tray of drinks into the living room with Sophie trailing behind, and find Ben already there getting the fireplace going and arranging some pillows and blankets.

“This looks cozy,” you smile, setting the drinks down and sitting on the floor across from him, Sophie following your lead. “Thanks, honey.”

“Thanks for making the hot chocolate, my loves,” Ben responds, glancing over at the tray that holds two regular Christmas mugs and one with the Frozen characters on it. He picks that one up and pretends to take a sip. “I assume this one is mine?”

“No, Daddy, that’s mine!” Sophie squeals, making both you and Ben laugh as he carefully passes it back to her. 

You all sip your drinks in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth of the sweet beverages and the burning fire. 

“So, did you enjoy your first snow, Soph?” Ben asks. “Was it everything you hoped?”

“It was amazing!” Sophie confirms. “Thank you for playing, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome, angel,” Ben says with a soft smile as Sophie climbs into his lap and he kisses her rosy cheeks. 

It’s not long before she drifts off to sleep, tuckered out from playing in the snow and comforted by her dad’s embrace and the sound of you and Ben quietly talking about your days. 

Once she’s fully passed out, Ben carefully shifts her tiny frame over in his arms to make room for you on his other side and beckons you over. With him laying back against the sofa and you now laying against his chest, both of you watching your daughter sleep peacefully, you’re not sure you’ve ever felt more content. 

“That little girl absolutely adores you,” you comment, nuzzling further into Ben’s warmth.

“She must get that from her mum, then,” Ben jokes, making you roll your eyes for a moment before kissing his jaw, then his cheek.

“Mhm,” you nod, smiling as you reach his lips and kiss him slowly. 

When you pull back, Ben gazes lovingly at you for a moment before his eyes return to Sophie, her little hand curling around the material of his hoodie in her sleep.

“Babe?” Ben murmurs, and you nod again. “How would you feel about trying for another one?”

It takes everything in you not to betray yourself with a grin as you think about the tiny Christmas onesie and pregnancy test you boxed up and placed under the tree yesterday while Ben was picking Sophie up from daycare. 

It’s less than a week until Christmas - you can make it that long. 

“Let’s talk about it after the holidays?” you say for now, pressing another kiss to Ben’s lips. 

He nods with a smile, though you can see his mind wandering with thoughts of another little one to play in the snow and curl up by the fire and watching the same movies over and over with. 

It’s been the greatest joy of your life raising Sophie side by side with him, and you absolutely can’t wait to do it all again. 

#ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell x y/n #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell #first time writing dad!ben!! and also first time making a graphic dont laugh at how bad it lmaooo

[vampiretendencies]

Okay first time requesting sth:) but that one prompt list you reblogged gave me the idea of JJ having a nightmare and reader waking up and comforting him? I feel like it’s always reader having the nightmare but I can kinda envision it with JJ

Only if you want to and if your comfortable with it ♡

warnings; nightmares, lots of fluff, mentions of jj’s dad, mention of drugs, suggestive, mention of kids

pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader

authors note; thank you for trusting me with your first request ! that’s so true though, so i’m glad you decided to request this approach. requests are open ! <3

It’s strumming closer to the edge of midnight.

The living room being flooded with the pastel colors that the TV radiated as it displayed a movie JJ decided on. Yet, he’d fallen into a slumber not even half way through, and you didn’t know what kind of distasteful film this was. You forcefully watched it because you adored the boy that picked it.

No choice but to sink deeper, and deeper into this couch.

Such a pretty face is in your lap, insisting on sleeping there rather than a cuddle. His squishy face was buried in he dough of your thighs, studying the boy’s features— sun kissed blonde tips delicately suiting his features. Cheeks a darkened red, the imprint from the drawstring in your shorts could be found too, indented swiftly into them.

An angel is before you.

Basking in his presence doesn’t last long before he’s stirring, you’d thought he was waking up so your heart fluttered ever so slightly. He wasn’t.

The war in his mind is infinite, and has been rotating on a loop since he wandered into it an hour ago. This petrifying nuance is one of his father coming back to rip JJ a new one for throwing the pills, that he worked so hard to steal, into the water before sending him off on his one way trip away from Kildare. A robbery that was so effortless, however taking care of his own son was a chore to him.

Repeating in that nightmare that his father is beating him senseless on that same dock he said goodbye to him on. Bleeding out from various uncontrollable wounds that seeped ‘why won’t you love me’ from them. At one point in that night terror he was fighting back, though he gave up upon seeing his father would have no mercy on him. Pills of every color, would be enough for him to punch his son unrecognizable.

A sorry excuse of a man, you didn’t understand how such a beautiful, giving, boy came from that waste of space.

Profuse sweat entangled the tufts of his treases and one thing about JJ is he doesn’t sweat in his sleep. Not this heavily anyway. As long as his girl is nuzzled into his side, and he’s intertwined with her along with a cool fan blowing on him— he’s more then fine.

Beads of it began rolling down his face, and his lip quivered in such a weeping, defeated way. Whatever disturbing power this is, is consuming him bit by bit, and you can’t sit idly by and watch it.

You didn’t want to startle him more than he apparently is, so you start with a gentle tap. His limp body wasn’t moving, resorting to shaking him into oblivion— ultimately cutting his soft breaths short, whilst he sucks in new air to compensate for what he’d lost.

JJ’s eyes squint open, instinctively pressing a tender kiss to your warm inner thigh. Assuming you’d accidentally woken up, and assuring that he was still here in one piece.

“Baby, you’re sweating.”

You soothed him, by pushing back his hair and wiping his drenched forehead with the bottom of your cotton shirt. Cupping your small hands to his jawline, providing coaxing that he oh so needed.

“S’nothin’ baby just a little … bodily fluid?” He denied it, and would’ve planned on drowning it out with the rest of the suppressed memories of his father. But, you’ve seen it, and he won’t deny you the reasoning behind it after watching it with your own two eyes.

“Too much of it.”

“Thought you liked when I was sweaty, last time you couldn’t shutup about how hot-“

“Spill.”

You hushed him with two fingers to his delicate lips, his tongue delved on the backs of them to lick them intricately. You push his head in the other direction, wiping the spit on the neck of his sleeveless tee— acting as if you didn’t like it.

“Alright, you got me. It was a nightmare,” he followed your eyes, raspy voice filling the room vividly. Looking up at you like you’re the reason why the world goes round. You aren’t sadly, but you are the reason his world does. For if you weren’t here in this very second, he would’ve wailed uncontrollably in the emptiness of no home. You combed through his hair, as if to say ‘tell me more’ and with a sigh he did.

“What is it J?”

Biting throughly on his bottom lip, he contemplated; face curling closer into your thigh. He stomachs it, the exhaustion ridden eyes struggling to make out expressions with the TV now illuminating from light to dark during commercial.

“He’s everywhere s’like I can’t fuckin’ get rid of him. You know I thought when he left, I’d be done with him for good … but no even in my nightmares he beats the shit out of me.”

He laughs it off, devaluing his feelings with every chuckle. All you can do is peer at him, with concerned affections and furrowed eyebrows.

And he thinks they have no meaning, for the entirety of his life he’s had to shove it down— conceal it. There’s things his fathers done that he can’t recall, because he forces himself to forget.

“J, look at me.”

Your thumb circles on the tops of his cheeks, consoling him in such a way no one else could. You were his favorite song, and he’d listen consistently for that extra touch of solace.

“He can’t hurt you anymore, not now, not again.” He melts into the palm of your hand like putty. Similar to a car furrowing to its owners touch. He’s glistening thoroughly with hope and desire— your lover lost a piece of him every time his father left another mark. “What you feel shouldn’t go unnoticed baby, he’s going to regret leaving the most perfect son behind.”

“Perfect?”

“Perfect, J.”

Again to shrug it off once more he starts with, “When we have kids, and we will have kids … lots of em … he won’t get the opportunity to know them.” Changing the topic but now being able to at least talk about it, was one step closer to somewhat vanquishing the sore subject.

Following suit, you continue with the more lighthearted part as the sweet boy below you deserved everything of the sort.

“How many babies we talkin’ Maybank?”

“Enough for a small army. So I say we get started now, pretty girl.”

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[1d1195]

Protection VI

You can read Protection here. Hard to believe it's only probably four parts left! This got a little bit away from me, I think. I hope it makes sense!

Here we are: 6.5K words.

Warnings: fluff, smut 18+ only , angst(?)

He wished he could meet her mom. Wished with everything in him he could meet the woman responsible for the girl that drove him mad—mad with annoyance or madly in love. It didn’t matter.

With her new vow to be a downright angel, she knew she was nearly boring to keep watch over. In addition, she had finals coming up; it was hard for her to do anything but study and work. Harry was endlessly helpful and kind. He made runs to get her coffee and read off her flashcards. Quizzed her on all the topics she worried about most throughout the semester, laughing every time she easily corrected his mispronunciation of the scientific words.

“What d’you want t’do once y’get your degree?” He asked.

She smirked. “I’m not sure. At one point I wanted to work for the EPA; sometimes I think about being a professor,” she shrugged. Harry thought if she was his professor, he would have never passed a single class. He would be too busy staring at her. “When I was younger, I watched a bunch of CSI shows with my mom and I wanted to be one of the scientists in the lab. It’s a bit dramatized on TV though, so I put it on the backburner. I could work in the bio-medicinal field,” she explained. “I would get to help make drugs and medicines and things.”

“Y’really like this stuff?” He asked curiously looking at the gibberish words on the cards in his hands.

She smiled excitedly. “A lot, it’s like a puzzle.”

“I’ve done a puzzle before love,” he shook his head. “S’not a puzzle.”

She giggled this adorable giggle that Harry was so smitten for. It was like his favorite song. He started to dream about her laughter. The days he had off seemed endless now—just waiting to come right back to her place and watch a rom-com before she fell asleep. If he had it his way, he would have moved into her second bedroom. He would have requested to be by her side, 24/7.

“When do you do errands?” She asked scribbling something in her notebook. It was approaching nine at night which meant they were going to start a movie to help her relax before she picked up studying as soon as she woke up. Harry was sitting on the sofa as he always did. She sat on the floor, so she had the ability to freely move around her séance circle of papers, note cards, laptop, and textbooks.

“Jus’ usually do it on m’day off,” he shrugged.

She frowned. “We could do them when I’m out and about. It doesn’t seem fair that we’re like...at Target and you can’t grab a few things.”

“S’protocol,” he smiled. Then he chuckled shaking his head at her as she rolled her eyes so hard, she turned her neck along with the motion at his words.

“I hate protocol,” she reminded him.

“I know.”

“When do you see Niall?” He stared at her silently. Wondering how on Earth she knew who Niall was. She glanced at him as she looked over her notes. But then did a double take when he looked at her as if she suddenly grew a second nose. She tilted her head curiously. Harry’s expression went blank as he searched through every moment that he had spoken to her over the last four or so months, trying to remember when he mentioned Niall’s name. After a moment of trying to figure out his hesitation, she giggled, realizing what she had done. “I told you I ran a background check of my own,” she reminded him.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. She didn’t need a security detail. She was more than capable of protecting herself. Harry was glad he was here all the same, but it was a moment like this that he felt she was independent enough to do whatever she wanted and knew exactly how to save herself. “On m’days off.”

“Did he tell you I ran into him?” She asked.

He shook his head feeling like he was abducted by an alien and put in an alternate dimension. “No,” he put the flashcards on the table. “When did y’see him?”

Her cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink. “I went to the office,” she told him. His eyebrows rose on his forehead. He blinked at her as if he was just seeing her for the first time.

“You what?” His voice was flat.

“I was sure he was going to tell you about it,” she frowned and looked curiously at her papers.

“I haven’t seen him in a bit, he doesn’t always have the same time off as me,” he explained.

She nodded. “Oh...well, I kind of yelled at your supervisor.”

Harry knew she was...headstrong. He had seen the way she spoke to people who made her mad. But somehow, he had a hard time imagining the girl before him going to a government office and yelling at a grown man. What’s more, he was probably scared of her too. Harry was at a loss for words. No idea what to say or do. “You...yelled?” He was practically breathless. The words hardly reached her ears. She yelled at his supervisor.

She nodded again, easily. Obviously. As if that were a regular occurrence. “It was right after my hospital stay,” she murmured. Harry felt his heart freeze over at the mere mention of that awful weekend. If Harry was around, he was never going to let something like that happen to her ever again. He was sure of it. “When you were acting all weird towards me.”

Harry still felt bad that she noticed that. It took over a week for normalcy to come back to him. His supervisor told him it was unacceptable and made them look bad. Unfortunately, Harry full-heartedly agreed and since he was throwing himself a pity party of feeling terrible about it, he let his supervisor help in making him feel worse. “Oh,” he was still so utterly confused. “M’sorry. M’not really following. I...why did you—”

“I...I really...appreciate how you treat me,” she interrupted. She looked up from her papers. “I really do feel safe when you’re around,” she looked at him shyly, through her gorgeous eyelashes that nearly brushed the bottom of her eyebrows. Harry felt like he was melting into her sofa. He had grabbed her flashcards just so he didn’t do something stupid like pull her into his lap and kiss her until he needed oxygen. “So when...you didn’t want to be around me, I was really sad and hurt. More than I think I would have been if...” she shrugged off the rest of the sentence. Harry knew what she meant: more than the reason why she was at the hospital. “You stopped taking the extra shifts and stuff...and I know that you have your own life but...it’s enjoyable to be around you. I didn’t want to run away from you or do stupid things... or any of my normal stuff. But you didn’t want to be around me,” she mumbled quietly. She swallowed the lump in her throat thinking about how truly awful it would be to not see Harry for any length of time. His standoff nature broke her heart, and it was only a few days. She wasn’t sure what would happen when she no longer needed nor had a security detail. “You were all upset, and it was their fault.”

Harry felt so guilty again. “Oh,” he frowned. “M’sorry, love...I jus’...I was so upset that y’got hurt because of me—”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she shook her head. Her tone said there was no arguing with her. They had gone through this already anyway. There was no use in rehashing it. But Harry would probably feel guilty for the rest of his life.

“I would have blamed anyone that was supposed t’keep an eye on you that day,” he tried explaining once more. “S’not...we don’t have t’make it a thing, but I jus’ want y’to know I feel really guilty about it.”

She sighed. “You shouldn’t,” she said simply. Neither spoke, the silence was comfortable though. It was like a warm blanket. She scribbled a bit and Harry flipped through her index cards. “Favorite tree?” She asked quietly.

“Tree?” He smirked. She nodded. He shook his head with a chuckle and thought about trees. Did he even know if he had a favorite tree? “Uh...oak, I guess.”

“Mine’s a Christmas tree.”

“Oh, no fair,” he pouted. “That’s a good one.”

“I want to get a Christmas tree,” she told him. “Maybe we could do that instead of a movie,” she suggested.

“You’re in charge, love.”

She rolled her eyes. “Only kind of.” He smiled. “Favorite number?”

“I don’t have one,” he admitted.

She blinked. “Hmm. Mine is fourteen,” she told him. “I don’t know why. Just speaks to me.”

He would have to remember that. “Favorite cereal?”

A beat of silence. “Coco puffs, I think.”

“What’s your favorite book?” He asked.

She bit the inside of her lip. “I think I’d rather die than pick.” He chuckled at her response.

*

She put on a Christmas rom-com while they decorated the tree. Harry chuckled at some joke on the TV, but she could not be bothered to pay attention. Harry was helping decorate her Christmas tree. Just like how he helped decorate her apartment with a million flowers. Harry paused his decorating, however, to focus on the movie. He stood in the middle of her living room, hands holding the string of lights while he stared at the screen intently. Invested in whatever was happening. Since she couldn’t be bothered to know even the basic plot, she took that time to gaze at Harry without a care. She wondered if it was possible that he had gotten more beautiful. Or maybe she just looked at him differently now.

Her mom would have loved Harry. She could practically picture her saying oh, he’s very handsome, with a little giggle. She would like how he was snippy with her. In fact, she imagined her mom saying something like, you’re too hard on, Harry. Don’t be so mean. She bit the inside of her lip and closed her eyes tightly to keep from crying. Harry had carried the tree from the car to the apartment with ease. It didn’t even look like it was heavy for him. He’s strong too, that’ll be good when you have babies. She shook her head of the daydream. Babies with Harry. Babies that wouldn’t meet their grandma. God, she missed her mom so much.

“Are y’alright, love?” He asked quietly. She blinked her eyes open. He was looking at her nervously. Like all the other times she was hurt in his presence. She worried he would take her to the hospital just for looking upset.

She nodded. “Just...thinking about my mom,” she mumbled and turned her attention to the tree. It wasn’t a lie, not really anyway.

“M’sorry, love. Did...did your mum like Christmas?”

She nodded sullenly. “Was our favorite.”

He looked at her flowery walls. Poinsettias and snowdrops. Harry wished there was mistletoe fixed to the ceiling somewhere. He would stand under it all day with her. He let her mull in silence about her mum. Maybe it was good to think about her. “I don’t know how y’do it.”

“Do what?”

Harry shook his head and shrugged. “Live. Think I would die without m’mum,” he told her.

She smiled weakly, tiredly. “I think a part of me did,” she shrugged. “But...my mom...” she rolled her eyes, and her smile grew as she thought her over. “Oh, she would have...” she giggled making Harry smile. “She would be so mad if I stopped living just because she did.”

Harry nodded. “My mum’s the same way.”

She had only a small bandage on her hand now. Harry had been taking very careful care of it. Making sure it healed properly and didn’t get in her way too much. “I miss her,” she told Harry. “I miss her every day...” she turned to look at Harry again. “She would have loved you.”

Harry felt some kind of pride that he didn’t know he needed. Knowing her favorite person in the universe would have loved him. “Yeah?”

She was all smiles now. Her giggle was infectious. “She would tell me I was being awful for you.”

“Well, then I love her too,” Harry rolled his eyes and he swore his heart grew to fill the entire space of his chest as she laughed her real, unfiltered laugh. He wished he could meet her mom. Wished with everything in him he could meet the woman responsible for the girl that drove him mad—mad with annoyance or madly in love. It didn’t matter.

*

Since Harry had been helping her study—or even since he started and watched her study, he knew all the signs of frustration and burnout. “Love, maybe a break?” He murmured. She shook her head.

“I hate this class.”

“You’re going t’do great, love,” he encouraged.

She rubbed her temples and sighed. “Can...” she looked at him sitting quietly on the other sofa, he was reading a book. She was so boring now, he could sit and read as much as he wanted. He tilted his head at her. “Are you busy?” She asked.

He smiled at her. “Does it look like m’busy?”

She shrugged. “It looks like a good book, is all.”

“M’not busy. Not for you,” he promised.

Her heart fluttered. He wasn’t too busy for her. She bit the inside of her lip. “Could you help me?” She asked quietly.

He folded the corner of the page down and nodded. “Course, love.”

Her asking for help was a really big deal. Normally, he just helped her. It never got to the point of her asking. Hence why it was so monumental when she was alone in the park and called Harry. It had to be nearly catastrophic when she injured herself in the kitchen and she called out for him instinctively. But somehow this moment outshone both of those. Sitting on her floor, papers spread about. Her needing his help to study was some form of intimacy that he wasn’t sure he could fully articulate how...wonderful it was.

He sat beside her on the floor and took her index cards as he was accustomed to doing. The pile was now at least three hundred cards thick. It was no surprise she was nervous. Harry wasn’t sure how she would retain all of it either. She stared at the study guide rubbing her forehead. “Okay...” she sighed. “This section, molecular symmetry and its relationship to vibrational spectroscopy and bonding, is giving me the most trouble.”

He stared at her as she looked over her notes. Harry set aside the section of index cards she didn’t need. She looked adorable, pursed lips and concentrated expression. He still hated the way her forehead creased with worry. He swore she was always two minutes away from a headache because of it and she failed to drink enough water to support her brain.

If I drank enough water, I would be too much for the world. She told him. I’d be unstoppable.

He must have been staring too long because she turned to look at him. “What?” She asked touching her cheek. “Do I have pizza on my face still, you’re supposed—”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re fine, love. Jus’...I literally haven’t a clue what you’re talking ‘bout. Spectroscopy?” He murmured. She smirked and shrugged. “You should have been a florist. Y’wouldn’t have had t’give yourself headaches,” he explained as he got to the section of index cards she referred to.

“Maybe in my next life.”

He chuckled. “D’you believe in a next life?”

She nodded. “For the sake of my mom I do,” she mumbled.

Harry was looking at her, she could feel it on the side of her face. If she looked at him, she was afraid she would burst into tears and never stop. It was something about her apartment being decorated for Christmas that had her feeling so much more...she was so upset that she would never meet Harry. Harry wasn’t even hers. “Your mum would be really proud of you,” he promised.

“I hope so.”

“I know so.”

She looked at him finally. His green eyes met hers and she thought if he wasn’t her bodyguard, she would kiss him and probably never stop kissing him. She would become part of the floor and kiss him until her mouth hurt. Until her lungs screamed for air. He was perfect. Truly. It was awful she made him work so hard up until the past couple weeks. She would never forgive herself for that. He smiled at her. “Do I have pizza on m’face?” He asked.

She shook her head and blushed as she looked back at her study guide. She had to be careful, or she was going to fail merely because Harry was so pretty just sitting beside her, it distracted her.

*

After three hours of studying, they put on a movie. She was practically asleep before it started. Her body slumped across the couch. Harry glanced at her eyes, practically little slits. “Can y’even see?” He asked.

“See enough,” she mumbled. He stood up and draped a soft blanket with a Christmas tree pattern over the length of her. She was in leggings and a long-sleeved T-shirt. She was so pretty. Her hair was pulled to a bun on the top of her head and Harry just wanted to kiss her sleepy, pretty face. She sighed. “M’gonna fall asleep.”

“S’okay, love,” he chuckled sitting back on the other couch.

“M’too tired to get to my room.”

“I can carry you.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

He rolled his eyes and let out a note of laughter. “I don’t mind.”

“I do. M’too heavy.”

“You are not. S’this a comment on m’muscle tone?”

She snorted and cuddled the throw pillow closer to her face. It smushed her cheek against the fabric. Harry wanted to put her in his pocket, she was so adorable. “No...I don’t know...I mean—When do you even have time to work out?”

“I usually jus’ workout in m’time off, or while you’re asleep.”

“You go home at midnight and do a workout?” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t even want to do a workout past five in the evening.”

He smiled. “You’re not heavy,” he repeated.

“M-hmm...I think I ate my weight in pizza today.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re so stubborn.”

She smiled. “Leave me here,” she mumbled and drifted off to sleep. But Harry was stubborn too, so he carried her to her room. If he could, he would have taken a video of the pair of them just to show her.

“Harry,” she murmured sleepily once she was lying in her comfy bed. Harry’s heart felt like it was going to explode. Her eyes didn’t open, and she didn’t speak again. In fact, she had fallen asleep around him a lot and he had never heard her talk while she dreamed. He wanted to lay down right beside her, hold her, squeeze her. Tell her that he adored her and everything: her exam, stuff with her dad, her missing her mom, and everything her beautiful, brilliant mind worried about would be okay.

But instead, he gently smoothed part of her hair back and left her to dream.

Hopefully, about him.

*

Harry walked up to her apartment and waved to the agent outside as he looked down at his phone. He brought her a coffee to celebrate the end of her exams. The agent left and Harry waited until he was fully gone to let himself into her apartment.

She was on the phone and smiling like it was already Christmas. Like she had gotten the best gift of all.  Harry smirked and placed his stuff at her dining table and then held the coffee up for her to see. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from squealing. Harry settled her cup down on the table as well as she spoke to the other end of her phone. “Thank you. Thank you so much,” she said gratefully. “Happy holidays. Have a wonderful break.”

The moment her phone was on the counter she was running across her apartment and throwing herself at Harry. He staggered back a step at the impact. Her arms tossed around his shoulders, and she sighed as she breathed into his shirt. He was taller than her of course. By at least half a foot. She was on her tiptoes, and it felt like magic to hold her.

Harry felt like when she did this back in August. However, this time obviously didn’t have the hidden pretense of needing protection from some guy that couldn’t take a hint. This was real. She was really throwing herself at him and giggling like a madwoman. He wrapped his arms around her waist giving her a returning squeeze. “Mmm...y’okay there Miss Wildflower?”

She was jittery. But in a good way. She pulled from him, dropping her arms to her sides. Harry regretted asking her if she was alright. He would have much preferred her in the circle of his arms. “My professor emailed me asking me to call him,” she was giddy. Harry was in love. There was no longer a question about it. Her smile, her eyes, everything about her made his chest ache with adoration for her. “I...” she was nearly breathless. “Harry, I got the highest grade on the final.”

He rolled his eyes. Naturally he was proud and happy for her but it wasn’t all that surprising. “Of course, y’did, love. You’re brilliant and y’studied for ages.”

“No, Harry...like...ever. The highest grade ever.”

Oh. That was different. He tilted his head and smirked now understanding her excitement a little more. “Oh?”

She nodded excitedly, rocking back and forth on her feet. “He’s been teaching this course for...” she rolled her eyes. “Over twenty-five years...he was so impressed. He wants me to be his TA next semester, he wants me to do research. He thinks I should be a professor—especially because he wants to retire soon...Harry,” she was still practically bouncing with excitement. She was so adorable Harry didn’t know where to look. “Thank you,” she sighed her expression was so soft. Harry was melting for her. Right onto the floor. Just a puddle of the man he once was.

“Me?” He was shocked she was thanking him. He didn’t do anything. All he did was hold some index cards and mispronounce words for her.

“You helped me study so much...I,” she sighed. “I know I was a pain, and you didn’t deserve all that and you certainly didn’t have to help me after all that either. The studying, the crying about everything, the coffee, the...just putting up with me. It is just...thank you, truly. I am so happy. So unbelievably happy I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in m—”

Harry’s mouth was on hers.

Her brain short-circuited. Harry’s pretty pink lips were finally between hers. His hands were on each side of her face. His body curled down toward her as he kissed her. His lips were soft. So soft she wondered what chapstick he used—literally almost pulled away just to ask. But she was certain she would never pull from his lips. If she died from lack of oxygen, it would be okay. Except she worried Harry would have to do paperwork on it. Her eyes fluttered closed as soon as she felt the touch of his mouth.

Her hands fisted the sides of his shirt pulling him closer toward herself. His tongue gently stroked over her lower lip and then carefully probed at the space between her barely open teeth. Asking for silent permission to let it in her mouth. She moaned when his tongue licked hers. She could feel his heavy inhale and exhale from his nose as he breathed in and out.

Oh, it was so much better than she could have imagined. Better than she could have dreamed. She turned her face upwards allowing more access given his height. He pulled from her mouth, allowing her to breathe. But his lips didn’t stop, he kissed down the side of her throat, making her heart hammer out an unsafe rhythm. She didn’t dare speak; worried she would somehow ruin it.

This cannot be protocol. Why on earth would she care about protocol right now?

If she brought attention to the fact that Harry was willingly kissing her, he would probably stop. He seemed like the type. But instead, he brought his mouth back to hers, curled his arms around her middle long enough to almost crush her to his body. He got her toes off the ground, never stopping his kiss as he maneuvered blindly over to the sitting area. He guided her back carefully, so she went down gently on the sofa and Harry followed right after her, hips between her thighs. She groaned softly at the feeling of Harry pressing against her. This was an awful day to wear jeans. The stiff fabric had no give for her to fully feel and enjoy the way Harry grinded against her. Her leggings would have been much better. One of his hands rested at the back of her neck, his fingers gripping lightly on her hair so he could tug her closer to his mouth. The other touched her side, stroked down over her hip that bent around his waist before he slid down to her outer thigh.

“Harry,” she whimpered his lips breaking from her mouth for a moment to kiss along the side of her neck that didn’t receive attention before.

“What, love?” He mumbled. His voice seemed deeper, sexier.

She was aching everywhere. Harry wasn’t close enough. She wanted him everywhere. Wanted him to fix the ache. She had never needed anyone. Not once in her adulthood had she ever needed help from anyone nor needed anyone so much that her bones ached.

But she had never met Harry until this year. Now she wanted him to make the ache go away. “Please,” she begged.

“Please, what?” His lips brushed over the hollow space at the bottom of her throat. “Tell me,” he murmured. “I’ll give y’anything y’want,” his lips pressed to her collarbone and moved further south down the V of her T-shirt. She made an embarrassing little whiny sound out of her throat. She arched toward his mouth. Desperate for his kiss, his touch. All of it. “Tell me, love.”

She felt dizzy because despite all the stupid things she put him through, she believed he really would do anything she asked of him. The hand on her thigh moved back up toward her shirt and slid just below the hem so his fingers skimmed over her stomach. “Please,” she begged.

“‘Please’ what, kitten?” His voice was so gentle, deep. She wanted to drown in his voice. It made her chest ache to be called a new name. Honey set her on fire. Kitten was going to send her heart to the moon.

But he was smug too. He knew exactly what she wanted. Exactly. He was refusing to give it to her. Refusing to put his hand between her thighs. He brought his lips back to hers, kissing her plead, her question, all rational thought out of her mind.

“Want you,” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

She nodded. It was hard to keep calm when he spoke so gently. When his lips tasted so good and felt so soft. “Please?” She begged again.

“Love,” his voice was gentle. “I want you so bad,” he promised. Her heart felt like it was about to fly right out of her ribs and across the room.

But she still had one little neuron firing in her Harry-obsessed mind. His tone had a ‘but’ in it. She wanted to go back to kissing before she asked. Wanted to feel the lightness that drenched her and Harry as he sprinkled her with hundreds of kisses. Kisses, that if she was being honest with herself, she wanted since the day he knocked on her door for the first time.

But instead, his tone just made her feel terrible. She dropped her head back against the cushion. “S’not protocol,” he mumbled. He trailed his kisses back up her neck.

“Oh for...Harry, fuck protocol,” she moaned. She felt too warm. He chuckled against her making the little breath of laughter tickle and cool her skin. She thought she was going to pass out. She yanked on his shirt hard, trying to get him closer but she sensed it wasn’t going to happen. No matter how hard she tried.

“Easy, love.”

“Easy?” She felt agitated instantly. “M’gonna combust,” she told him breathlessly her head turning to the side.

“Good,” he said smugly pressing a wet kiss to the side of her neck. She flopped back miserably against the sofa again and looked at him through her lashes in that way that drove him crazy with adoration for her.

“You don’t...want me?”

“Kitten,” he tutted disapprovingly. He pressed his hand against her cheek. “Obviously, I want you.” Ever so subtly, his hips dipped against her leg, pressing his hard length against her thigh as proof.

“It’s not obvious,” she frowned sullenly. Even with his erection, it didn’t mean anything. He could just be horny, and she didn’t see Harry with other women often—well ever. She was here and he could just enjoy kissing or whatever. “Then—”

“M’sorry, love s’protocol,” he smirked sadly. “I jus’ want to—”

“Harry, what about me says I give two shits about protocol?” She groaned throwing her arm over her face.

He pulled it away and brushed his thumb over her cheek. “I know, kitten,” he kissed the tip of her nose. “I want to,” he promised. “But...I can’t. I can’t right now.”

“Why are you on your period?” She rolled her eyes.

“Would never pin y’as a horny thing, love,” he pressed his lips to her ear. “Is that why y’tense all the time? Just need t’come?” She was silent. Unwilling to be bated by his words into revealing something about herself or admitting she was so fucking hot for him. “M’not gonna...do this with you...not while m’working.”

“You sure know how to make a girl feel like she’s begging for sex.”

“Pretty sure y’could convince anyone t’have sex with you without begging.”

“Look in the mirror,” she muttered.

“I adore you,” he promised. His hand cupped the side of her face. “Obviously.”

She pushed him away. “So...what? We’re just going to...make out and dry hump?” She asked, frustration laced in her voice. She paced away from him quickly. Going to her room and shutting the door behind her. It wasn’t to avoid Harry. Actually, she wanted nothing more than to throw herself back at him, immediately. But if he was going to be rational, then she needed space so she could be rational too.

He knocked gently on the door. “Love,” he hummed. “Open the door.”

“No.”

He tried the handle and then sighed when it didn’t move. “Jus’...let me explain.” She waited silently. Now that she could breathe air that wasn’t heavy with Harry’s cologne or with just the scent of him, she was thinking a little more clearly. A little more like herself. He sighed again. “God, you’re annoying,” he mumbled. “I jus’...I can’t...take advantage of you,” he told the door.

“I want it,” she said petulantly. Like Harry was candy that she was being denied on Halloween.

He laughed behind the door. “I know, love. Me too.” She waited in silence again. “I don’t want t’do this while m’working. S’not fair.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s...” there was a small thunk against the door.

“I swear to God, Harry. If you say it’s protocol...” He didn’t speak giving her the answer she needed. “Why’d you kiss me then?” She groaned. “You got me all worked up.”

“I know, love. M’sorry. It was a moment of weakness...I shouldn’t have—”

“So, you really don’t want me?” She repeated sadness on the edge of her voice.

The idea that she was worried about Harry wanting her was killing him. “Kitten, open the door or I’ll break it down.”

She unlocked it and it was out of the way. His lips were back on hers in an instant. Brought her mind right back to the frenzy she felt moments ago. Her breath was lost in his mouth. He cupped her face and pecked at her upper lip as he started to chat with her. “Want nothing more than t’get y’out of your clothes and lay y’down and kiss every inch of your skin.”

If his tongue went in her mouth again she wasn't going to be able to think...maybe ever again. “But?”

“But...s’not...”

She pushed him away as much as she didn't want to, flopped onto her bed with a huff. “Harry, please,” she sighed. “What are we supposed to do? I don’t want you to not be on my detail. But we can’t...be...physical?”

“No...” he smirked. “No, we can’t.” She gazed at him curiously as he emphasized the pronoun. Harry sat beside her touching the inside of her jeans, following the seam to the middle of them below her zipper. Somehow his touch could be felt through the rough denim. She was certain if she was wearing leggings she would have come already. “I don’t want to get fired.”

“Pretty sure you’d get fired for this,” she whispered breathlessly.

He chuckled. “M’not explaining it right, love.”

“No, you’re not. M’feeling very unwanted. Which you know is...like really bad for my psyche,” Harry’s hand was literally between her thighs. He was breaking all kinds of protocol and she was still being annoying about his lack of attention to what she wanted more.

“Honey, I want you so badly,” he promised and brought his other hand to her face. He leaned down to kiss her softly. His fingers tapping almost rhythmically against the center of her jeans. “I can’t have sex with you while m’working. S’a recipe for disaster.” His fingers moved to her zipper, pulled it down. Moved back to her button, unclipped it from it’s place. "We'll figure it out, I'll kiss you and touch y'as much as y'want...but y'gotta lemme do this my way, please," he looked at her apologetically. "Know it doesn't make sense," his fingers were touching the elastic of her underwear. Her breathing hitched. “M’gonna take care of you, now. Okay? S’got nothing t’do with me or the job. S’all you, love. Y’deserve t’feel good.”

“You’re not making any sense,” her voice lacked air—it barely carried to his ears.

“I know, can’t think straight with y’looking so pretty like this,” his fingers dipped in between the opening of her jeans and the outside of her underwear. She moaned softly as his fingers moved over her. Her breath caught in her throat. Swore it stole the oxygen that went to her brain. There were no more brain cells in her head for rational thought. Thank God she took all her exams. “Y’better not fake it for me either. I know the difference in sounds y’made between the guy y’had here in September than when y’use your vibrator.” She wished she could feel embarrassed or angry toward him, but Harry’s fingers were pinching so softly but expertly at her clit she wanted to scream.

She didn’t know Harry could hear her.

“Y’make it so obvious, love. Moaning so loud for someone. S’not how y’do it. Y’get all breathy. Quiet. Hiding it. I know y’hide how y’feel...I don’t know why...but don’t y’dare think ‘bout lying t’me.”

That wasn’t going to be a problem. She had imagined Harry all over her so many times before. She was going to come in twenty seconds. “Oh...” she moaned arching into his touch. His hand slid lower, pushing her underwear out of the way and sinking a finger inside her. “Harry, please,” she begged.

“Oh, s’nice t’hear y’say please, love.”

Oh no. He was going to torture her.

“Didn’t know y’knew how t’be good.” Her toes curled. She tilted her hips up toward his fingers begging for more friction between her thighs. “Thought y’jus’ knew how t’be a pain in the butt. Didn’t know y’had manners.” Her brain was literally fried. It was an entity outside her body. The only thing she knew was Harry’s fingers on her body and his voice. His lips were pressed to her ear as he spoke. All while massaging his fingers in her folds, around her clit, and dipping inside her aching hole. It was like he was in the dark and could only use his sense of touch to find all the spots that drove her mad. She wanted to keep his hand in her pants every moment of every day. His fingers were so long and perfect and she could almost forgive him for not going further.

“Gonna listen t’me?” He asked. She nodded, gasping for air that didn't smell like Harry but enjoying that it did. “Say it,” he murmured. “For all the times y’didn’t.”

“I’ll listen,” she gasped.

“Good,” he continued rubbing leisurely. It was working her up beyond comprehension. She thought about whining at him. Or begging again. He seemed to like that enough that he might take pity on her.

But fortunately, he didn’t make her wait long.

“Come.” The knot in her stomach came undone without her even realizing it was there and ready to unravel. Her eyes fluttered as her body arched toward him. He pressed his mouth back over hers, licking her tongue. “S’a shame he couldn’t do that for you,” he murmured in her ear as her breathing settled. He gently removed his fingers from her pants, zipped and buttoned her back up.

Unironically, it felt like she had been drugged, the waves of dopamine coursing through her. Her eyelids fluttered rapidly as she watched Harry place his finger in his mouth and draw it out slowly. “Can’t wait t’taste you firsthand, kitten.”

This had to be the best day of her life. She passed her exam, she had a job opportunity, a mentor...she had...Harry and his lips and his fingers. Even if she had to figure out why he didn’t want to fully have sex. It didn’t matter. Having Harry like this, lying on her bed looking at her like she was...beautiful...

It was Christmastime. It was perfect.

She was happy. Really happy.

For all the bad stuff that happened to her, all the bad things she felt, it was nice to finally have something good. To have Harry beside her...to have finally kissed him. Those hearts in her eyes had to be back. But she swore as Harry smiled at her, she saw them in his as well. Her brain didn’t need to think about chemical bonding, O-rings, or compounds for a while. She could focus on Harry, his lips, and their movie list.

So why in the bliss of this perfect day, did a foreboding cloud of anxiety take over her mind?

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use

Protection taglist: @youcouldstartacult @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @luxiorchive @ameerakane20 @be-with-me-so-happily @cherryshouse @foreverxholland @tenaciousperfectionunknown @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @cherrystyle

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles blurbs #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles concept #hs #hs fic #hs writing #one direction #one direction writing #bodyguard!Harry #agent!harry #protection

[mouschiwrites]

Hiii! Love all your ninjago stuff!! For the match up event:

Ninjago, romantic, no gender pref. I'm AuDHD, I'm pretty pale with black hair, hazel eyes and I'm 5'4. I'm a huge hockey fan, I also love all things makeup and witchy things. For the drabble maybe a date night type thing with said character :)

I’m very glad you’ve been enjoying my content!! :D Now then, I match you with:

Cole Brookstone!!

Some headcanons:

He loves getting involved in your interests

He thinks you’re absolutely captivating when you get all passionate, plus he thinks you’re super talented

He’s totally supportive too; he’s more than happy to buy you things for your interests

Like matching keychains for your favorite hockey team!! (He wears his like a badge of honor)

On that note, you definitely get him hooked on the sport

He absolutely loves taking you to games, but he’ll settle for a night cuddled up on the couch while you watch the game on TV

He always requests matching makeup with your team’s colors, even if you’re just watching from home

He likes it when you do his makeup in general tbh, one, because he thinks you’re really skilled and he wants to get beautified, and two, because you have to get close to him to do it

He revels in your presence, mere inches away from his face, your breath on his cheek while you squint in concentration

As for your witchy interests, he totally comes to you for spells and things

He’s totally fascinated watching you work, and he’s amazed at the countless capabilities of modern witchcraft

Whether you’re at a hockey game or doing his makeup or preparing a spell, he asks a lot of questions

He’s just curious!! Plus he wants to see that passionate light in your eyes

He will perish if you return the favor, listening to his favorite soft rock bands, dancing with him, or helping him with a workout

(He loves to bench you if you let him)

Other than supporting each other’s interests, you guys are a pretty affectionate pair :)

Pet names are a must

His favorites for you are “sweetheart,” “babe,” and “magical boy/girl/person”

Also “dark one,” but that one’s more of a joke

He loves it when you call him “baby,” “honey bunch,” or “pumpkin”

I must also mention that he loves that you’re shorter than him,, he thinks it’s adorable

Drabble!!

“Hold still,” you giggled, trying to keep your hand steady while you applied lipstick to Cole’s lips. The huge grin he bore wasn’t really helping, but you somehow managed to keep the color on his lips and not the rest of his face, which was already decked out in your team’s colors.

Suddenly his beautified eyes flew open wide. He was looking past you at the TV. “The game’s starting!”

From your position straddling Cole’s lap, your back was to the TV, so you couldn’t see it. To remedy this, instead of allowing you to hop off and take your place beside him, Cole grabbed you by the hips and lifted you, turning you around to face the TV.

He planted you back on his lap, with your back pressed into his chest as he wrapped his arms around your middle.

Between you and the TV was a table of mostly-eaten takeout from earlier; before you had settled on the couch to do Cole’s makeup. And now you were snuggled up close, watching the game with bated breath and sporadic cheering. You shared a long and passionate kiss when your team won.

You turned off the TV and eventually fell asleep on the couch, you still resting against Cole’s chest, Cole’s face still painted with makeup. You’d clean up later; now was snuggle time. Call it a celebration.

And a song!

Tear in My Heart (Twenty One Pilots)

Songs on the radio are okay

But my taste in music is your face

But it takes a song to come around

To show you how

…

My heart is my armor

She's the tear in my heart

She's a carver

She's a butcher with a smile

Cut me farther

Than I've ever been

Thanks for your support!! You seriously mean so much to me,, I hope this did you justice <33

(divider by saradika)

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago x reader #cole brookstone #cole brookstone x reader #cole x reader

[washa]

I listened to Friendsgiving audio and here’s my favourite personal comments/thoughts!

Lasko being late?? Again?? Honey you’ll be rivalling Asher at this rate 😭

Who is he talking to? Like which listener?? I’m just gonna assume it’s coworker. 

Oh nvm it is Coworker 🙏 Yes i’m very excited to meet them too. 

AWH YOU CAN HEAR HIS SMILE IN THE “I’m glad!” FWEHJJ

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

HIII DAMIEN 

Lmfao why’d he sound so surprised to see Coworker? I mean who else would they be coming with?? Huxley???

“And you decided to come anyway, Blink twice if you need help.” Thanks Damien, I’ll keep that in mind 🙌

I like how he’s talking about Huxley like he’s some sort of spawn of devil destined to ruin his life when it’s literally his boyfriend.

It is for your own good, last audio you nearly burst a blood vessel Damien.

Why is he saying it like it’s a bad thing?? Relax babes.

GAVINNN HIII OH MY GOD OF COURSE THAT’S THE FIRST THING COWORKER HEARS FROM GAVIN

I love the sigh of frustration from Damien.

“Ooh, It’s been awhile since I was called the devil. Are you looking to make a deal wildfire?” GAVIN 

LASKO PLEASE, I’m so happy he’s more snarky.

Me cro wai vey. Of course Damien brings that up.

“No he’s not.” HELP THE WAY THEY BOTH SAY IT AT THE SAME TIME LMFAO 

God Damien is such a drama queen. Yeah let’s play some mario kart.

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

Huxley. Is it black/grey or clear?? What do you mean is that steam or smoke???

Damien sounds like an asian mom, I’m crying 😭

“Huxley, Open the door.” You were meant to be mine, I was meant to be yours! (The girls who get it, get it. The girls who don’t, don’t.)

Damien please sit down, Gavin please shut.

I love how Coworkers first interaction of DamiHux is Damien pleading for Huxley to open a kitchen door. 

“No can do baby.” URGH STOP IT.

Wait, isn't this the same song that was playing when Gavin and Damien were talking about him and Hux in the coming out video. Livin’ On a Prayer is a DamiHux song canon. 

THAT’S WHAT I'M SAYING LASKO, THERE'S NO WAY IT ISN'T.

Huxley you softie, he’s probably gonna shove right pass you and go cook 😭

NOO NOT THE ROLLS, Nevermind he gets shoved out immediately. His whinging, god he’s suffering out there. He’s like a dejected puppy. 

“Oh my god he’s losing his mind.” Huxley, that's the love of your life out there. 

They’re both delusional. It will not be good in the end. 😕

Awh Huxley, yes we love baby steps. OH MY GOD WHAT. DURING WHAT NOW 😨

Tbf yeah Freelancer is the last person to worry about when talking about your sex life 😭

Ay no worries, Love ya. YES HUGSS. OH SHIT WHOOPS. 

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

Yes, let's sneak into the kitchen like some sort of reboot version of Spy Kids. 

Damien’s pleading his case right now, Take a break bro, You’re going through the stages of grief rn 😭

“I’m beating you again Damien look at the TV come on.” Why did he say that so sexily, what the fuck 😕

HELP HE JUST OPENED THE DOOR RIGHT AWAY.

Awh Huxley is so sweet, Yes I do hugs you big baby 💕

“Lasko gets such a big smile on his face anytime he talks about you, And anybody that can make a guy as sweet as him happy is great in my book.” STOP IT, YOU’RE SO FUCKING ADORABLE OHKJLKJF

Freelancer? That’s me though?? HELP WHY IS IT SILENT 😭😭

Yeah I bet we’re hitting it off, can’t hear shit but yeah 😇

Bless Lasko, please do help him with the cooking.

Are we talking right now? HOW LONG IS THE SILENCE. 

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

Gavin and Damien have such a funny dynamic, love em both.

“I think you and I have very different ideas of revenge.” “I bet in this case they’re more similar than you think.” Glaring at the HBA bonus audio rn.

I can’t tell if Lasko’s being truthful or just polite. 👎

Oh Damien approves, We’re in the clear then!

LMFAO OK?? Huxley uses a pickup truck canon. 

“And if you ever lock me out of the kitchen again, I’m setting your truck on fire.” “Awh, There’s my man!” MY LITTLE SRUNKLIES ADORABLE

For a second I thought Huxley was gonna say Mate and my brain just did a reboot.

Yippee a toast! Here here! OH MY GOD HUXLEY YOU’RE RIGHT.

WE’RE LIKE AVATAR 🙏🙏 

“We can make a really destructive Orgy?” LASKO LMFAO WHAT BABES YOU’RE LOVER AND BOO THANG IS RIGHT THERE. 

Actually no, Coworker probably fell in love with him more. 

Yes, I'm very happy to be here Damien.

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #I think this a sign for the summit actually #the summits gonna be a nightmare. #redacted friendsgiving #redacted damn crew #redacted damien #redacted huxley #redacted lasko #redacted dear #redacted coworker #redacted freelancer #redacted gavin #washa rants!!

[jeansllvr]

I KNOW THAT'S NOT..

masterlist

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚WRITING PORTION ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

“Wassup my loves!!” You greeted the camera, waving both of your hands excitedly to show your enthusiasm.

“You guys have been BLOWING—“, you emphasized the word to show how much you’ve been harassed over the video, “—me up ever since I made the first omegle video.”

“So, since I love you all so very much, I’ll continue the series today. Let’s just hope we don’t get flashed in the first 5 minutes.”

You press the button to start talking to someone and you meet a really pretty girl. You both talk about some tv shows before you leave to talk to some more people for the video.

You met a lot of really cool people men and women and occasionally some really adorable fans. Though, that still didn’t stop you time running into flashers and racist men. It didn’t bother you all too much though all you could do is laugh or yell and click next.

“Okay y’all, this will be the last person I speak to since this video is getting kinda long. Let’s hope and pray we don’t leave off with absolute chaos.”

You press the button for the final time and to your surprise your met with a handsome guy. He has wavy, short, brown hair that’s styled a little messy but he made it work.

He was wearing a simple black tee and the pants were.. well you couldn’t really see what he had for bottoms because the camera only caught his torso. If you had to guess though, probably sweatpants.

“Hi! How are you?” You greeted him with a warm smile, partially to get him comfortable but also because he was a lil too fine.

“I’m good, thank you. And you?” His voice was deep. Not too deep where it just sounded corny but the deep that puts you into a good sleep.

“I’m doing good. I’m glad to finally be talking to a sane person and not getting start up flashed.” You slightly chuckled.

He sat up straight once he heard the words come out of you, “Thank you! I was finna hop off it got so bad.” There was amusement in his voice.

Your lips turned into a smile, you were glad you could share your experience with at least somebody, you thought you were starting to lose it. “They’re entirely too bored on this site.”

You both laugh at that.

You quite a time talking to this man nonstop about any and everything. You talked so naturally with him you were so close to exchanging numbers with him, though your thoughts are quickly forgotten when your eyes catch the time on the right-hand corner of your laptop screen. Y’all had been talking for an hour! How had you not notice? And how did you forget about the whole video you were filming?

“Oh. Um, I’m sorry but I have to go! I didn’t expect to stay here for this long and I have work I need to do!”

“No worries. Nice meeting you.”

You nodded your head with a smile, “Likewise uh..” You waited for his name, how you didn’t ask before was beyond you but oh well.

“Suna.”

“Y/n.”

There was a smile plastered on both of your faces as you waved goodbye to each other. Yours was definitely more bigger than his but you didn’t care, he had a good personality and even better appearance of course you’d be smiling ear to ear.

Once you clicked off the site you looked at your camera, toning down your smile just a bit.

“Well! That was a ride, I hope you all enjoyed this video. I love you all very much and goodbye!”

previously | next

[a/n]: we’re finally getting started!! hope y’all enjoy this smau cause I enjoy doing it 😁

[taglist]: @xxblackroses623xx @faumpje @alienvarmint @peachesncats @renardiererin @warcelia @wyrcan @noideawhothatis @universal-s1ut

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #anime #haikyu #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smau series #haikyuu x f!reader #haikyuu x female reader #suna rintarō #suna rintaro fic #suna rintaro fluff #suna rinatro #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro scenarios #haikyuu smau #kenma kuzome #suna angst #suna x reader #suna x you #suna x y/n #suna headcanons #suna fluff #suna drabble

[earthchica]

our baby girl

pairing: very pre-outbreak! joel miller x black f! reader

summary: before everything went shit, you and joel were happy, young, in love, and about to be parents.

warning: fluff, a little bit of angst, language, pregnancy, sweet nicknames, young! joel, mention of arguments, childbirth.

a/n: The last of us tv show has been my favorite ever since it came out, this is my first time writing joel and unedited, sorry for any typos lol but enjoy!

-

Joel couldn’t help but smile at you as you danced around in one of his shirts.

Your dark brown curls bounced with every move you made, looking radiant in the rays of sunlight rising from the window.

He praised the sunlight for sparkling across your lovely dark brown skin and making it glow so beautifully.

A question appeared in Joel’s head a million times. “How did I get so lucky?”

You were loving, sweet, smart and the complete opposite of him but that was what made him fall in love with you.

He loved, adored, and cherished you with all his heart and soul. He would do anything for you.

"Morning, suga!" You sang while making eggs and bacon, cutting him out of his thoughts.

Joel smiles brightly and says, “How do you know I was standing here?”

"I got eyes in the back of my head," You said, putting the last piece of bacon on a plate.

“And you were quite noisy coming down the stairs” You added with a giggle before cutting the stove off.

"Well, I was just wondering where my darling went since I did wake up in bed alone"

Joel grumbled, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and giving you a slight squeeze.

"Joel!!” You giggled as he began tickling your neck with his scruffy beard.

You pushed him away and he made a pouting face which made him look super adorable, especially with his messy, dark brown hair.

“I'm sorry I left you in bed but I wanted to make my suga some breakfast. If that's okay?"

You said, pecking his lips quickly before going to place the finished food on the table.

"I guess, it's okay. " Joel says with a sign, playfully rolling his eyes which made me giggle.

"Good, now come on. Let's eat" You said, motioning him to take a seat.

You both sat and you tell him that you had some great news to share after breakfast.

“Well I can’t wait to hear it, baby,” Joel says with a smile, taking a sip of his orange juice.

You grinned and went on to have a conversation about what was flowing through your mind.

These were the sweet mornings that you loved so deeply.

A question appeared in your head a million times. “How did you get so lucky?”

Joel was tough, charming, loyal, and stubborn as hell but he was your everything, you could be yourself and tell him anything.

You loved and adored everything about him and you knew right after getting married, he was planning on putting a baby inside of you.

After breakfast and cleaning the dirty dishes together, you sat Joel down on the couch and handed him a wrapped gift.

"Open it," You told him.

He opened it and looked down confused until a few seconds later a teary smile grew on his face once he realized what it was.

It was a pregnancy test staring right at him with a note saying he was gonna be a daddy.

Joel got up from the sofa in seconds before hugging you with all his might, whispering into your curly hair.

"You're pregnant, baby?”

"Yes, Joel! I'm pregnant. We're gonna be parents" You said softly, finding yourself crying too.

Joel couldn't contain his joy as he began twirling you around, laughing mixed with a few tears of joy escaping.

“This is the best news ever, baby! I fucking can’t believe it, I’M GONNA BE A DADDY!" He says with excitement.

You giggled with relief. “I'm so glad you're happy about the news, I was a little nervous about telling you."

"Of course, I am,” Joel says, pushing a curl out your face before cupping your cheek.

“I’ve been wanting this with you, darling! I love you so much Y/N," Joel says before kissing your lips.

You pulled away and stared into his beautiful dark brown eyes gracefully with love and gentleness.

"I love you too, Joel with all my heart and you're gonna be a great dad!" I said softly with a bright smile.

The entire morning was spent with Joel thinking of names while talking and kissing your belly on the couch.

*

The cool breeze felt good on your melanin skin as you sat on the porch at your parent's old lake house.

The last couple of months have been hard, you hit the end of your second trimester in a week.

You've been trying to stay stress-free but it wasn't helping and you missed your husband.

You both had a big fight, Joel said some harsh words that he wishes he could take back.

He's been texting you non-stop, asking if you and the baby were okay and if you're coming home.

You sighed, slowly getting up, and decided to text him to come over to talk things out.

You walked back and forth through the living room, trying to figure out what you were going to say when he got here.

Your heart was beating fast and couldn't get your nerves right. There was a knock at the door and you took a deep breath before going to get it.

When you opened the door, Joel pushed into the house like there was a burglar or something.

He was looking around like a crazy man, you had to stop him. "Joel, calm down"

"Is everything alright, are you and baby ok? I'm sorry for everything, darling. I love you so much, and I'll do anything to make this right. I'm just scared of not being a good dad, I mean how am I supposed to take care of another human being who's my child oh-" You cut him off with a kiss.

He quickly went silent as you pulled away. His eyes were still closed, and when he opened them a shy smile was planted on his face.

"I'm sorry too, joel, and It's gonna be okay and I'm scared too. This is our first child together and of course, it's gonna be hard but I think we can do it" You said, cupping his cheek.

"You're right, and I promise, darling. I'll take care of you both and I won't let anything happen to either of you." Joel whimpers resting his palm against your swell belly.

"I love you, darling," He says, burying his face into your neck as you rake your fingers through his hair.

"I love you too, Joel. We're gonna be alright" You whispered in his ear.

*

The time has come, you have both been waiting for this moment and it was here.

You were scared, nervous, and excited.

Your water broke in the middle of the night and you had to keep Joel together because you don't want him to freak out.

You were on your way to the hospital and Joel was driving like a crazy person while doing the breathing exercises with you.

You couldn't believe this was happening, you both were about to become parents.

When you finally got there, Joel parked and helped you out of the car with the baby bag over his shoulder.

"Please, help my wife's water just broke" Joel yells nervously, one of the nurses quickly comes over and assists you both to a delivery room.

"Joel, I'm scared. This is happening, this is-I-I don't think I can do this.." You began to cry, gripping his hand.

"Y/N, baby. You got this, and I'm right here with you okay?" Joel says with a nervous smile.

"Okay" You nodded as he kissed you on the top of your head.

He was right by your side holding your hand as the doctor tells you to take one more push.

"You got this, darling. Just one more push" Joel says, squeezing your hand.

"AHHHH!!!" You screamed, pushing as hard as you could, and before you knew it the most beautiful sound was heard through the room.

"Oh, darling she's here. Oh, my god-she's fucking here" Joel says, watching as the doctor gently placed her on your chest for a second.

Joel was crying his eyes, cutting the umbilical cord. The nurse took our baby girl to clean her up and take her weight.

Once she was done, she placed her into your arms. "oh hi baby" You cried happily, looking at her.

She was so beautiful and looked just like you.

The doctor and the others cleaned up, leaving you and Joel alone with your daughter.

Joel's arm was wrapped around your waist while you were leaning into his chest.

"Hey, baby girl," He says, holding his daughter's small hand before looking between you and her.

"Wow! She looks just like you, so beautiful," Joel says with a chuckle.

"I know right." You agreed with a giggle and continued to look at your daughter.

"What should we name her?" He asked with a breath.

"How about...Sarah." You suggested and he grows a much bigger smile on his face.

"I like it. Welcome to the world, Sarah" He whispered to his daughter before placing a kiss on her forehead.

#joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller x reader #joel miller x black!reader #black reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

[goosewriting]

THE WAY YOU WRITE FOR RAPH IS JUST ♥️✨♥️✨

I have an idea for the cutie pie

How about him and his s/o are chilling in his room watch a film but they are just staring up at him like "wow handsome boy look at him. Baby boy baby♥️" and raph ofc noticed and gets all blushy so the reader just climbs on top of him and pecks him with smooches to death like "YOUR SO CUTE how?!?!"

Sorry I get cuteness aggression when ever I read about raph 😭

Cuteness Aggression

summary: reader has to make very clear just how great Raph is in their eyes

relationship: Rise Raph x reader (established)

warnings: f l u f f

word count: ~730

A/N: tysm!! i’m glad to hear you like how i write for him :’) this ask was so cute omg sdfsdfsfd enjoy!<3 also sorry it’s very short!! but i really wanted to post this one ;;v;; (and thanks for the great title lol)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

Outside, snow kept slowly falling from the sky, covering the whole landscape in a white fluffy blanket. You didn’t see any of that however, because you were cuddled up against Raph in his room, watching a movie.

You both lied in his bed, on your bellies, with the laptop balanced on a thick book on the pillow. Since you two had seen the movie a thousand times and it was a pretty chill part of the plot, Raph allowed himself to steal a glance at you: your head was propped up on your elbows, with your legs folding at the knee and dangling up and down behind you. You looked like a teenage girl from a 90s sitcom, talking on the phone to her crush. The only thing missing was a landline and your fingers tangling in the cord.

At that mental image, Raph snorted softly and laughed to himself. Since there wasn’t anything particularly funny happening on screen, you turned your head to look at him with a questioning look.

“What is it?” you asked, your lips turning into a curious smile.

“It’s silly, nevermind” he simply stated and turned his attention back to the movie.

“Raph” you whined. “I wanna know so I can laugh too! What is it?” you tried again.

After a moment of consideration whether to tell you or not, he decided it was futile to try and resist; you’d insist and poke at him as long as it took for him to spill the beans.

“The way your legs are dangling like that, it just reminded me of how girls would be talking on the phone in those old TV series” Raph explained. You seemed amused at that thought. “That’s all. Besides, you look cute” he added with a slight blush.

“Well, you look cute too!” you retorted, trying to hide your own flushed cheeks behind your hands.

“There’s a lot of words to describe me but ‘cute’ ain’t one of them, I think. Thanks though” he said with a sheepish smile. You looked at him with a face that could only be described as a mix of shock and indignation, and were about to retort and very strongly disagree with him, but he talked first.

“I- I mean, look at you: so small in comparison, soft but also strong, with the most adorable smile that could brighten the darkest room: you are cute. Meanwhile I’m big and rough, spiky, and my signature move is literally to smash things.”

No longer paying attention to the movie, you brought your legs forwards to sit up properly on the bed.

“I will not allow you to say mean things about my bestest friend and wonderful boyfriend!” you scolded him, flicking his forehead. “You are gentle, down to Earth, and extremely handsome may I add.”

You slowly pushed him over while you talked so he was on his back, and you climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. Raph’s face was as red as his bandana, his brain unable to compute, as his hands came to rest on your waist.

Placing your hands on his chest, you inched closer to his face, enumerating all his wonderful qualities, each followed by a peck to his face.

“Attentive.” Smooch. “Loving.” Mwah. “Always giving his all, never expecting anything in return.”

You held his face between your hands, and he couldn't tear away his eyes from yours, which caused you both to end up with a furious blush.

“And most importantly: you’re all mine. My boy, baby boy. You’re literally the babiest, you don’t understand, ugh!”

Unable to hold back anymore you went in to properly kiss him, trying your best to pour all your love you had for him into it. By the way he was responding, you assumed you had succeeded, and that he didn’t feel any different about you.

You broke apart for air, pulling back just enough to be able to talk.

“You have no idea how cute you are. HOW are you this cute?!” you asked, and closed the distance again. You weren’t even gonna give him the chance to answer; this was about getting it into that big turtle skull of his that you weren’t just saying those things earlier, you meant everything you said.

The rest of the night was spent whispering sweet nothings into his skin, kissing and doting on him like there was no tomorrow.

#goose feathers #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rottmnt raph x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2018

[imwriting0verhere]

Love Again

Chapter 5

Flashback

You had just arrived back in North Shields after spending two weeks in New York with your family. It was mid May and the perfect time to soak up the Manhattan sun and enjoy your favorite city in all its springtime glory. Sometimes you really missed living in the big apple, and yet, you couldn’t be happier to be back in the small fish quay town. As much as you loved your family and enjoyed spending time with them. Right now, nothing made you as happy as the boy currently making cuppas in his kitchen. Your first stop, after taking your luggage home and having a quick shower, was Sam’s house. You practically threw yourself at him the minute he had opened the door. He wordlessly picked you up and walked inside the house with you in his arms. Soft kisses and caresses had been exchanged, whispers of “I missed you” and “I’m so glad you’re back” before he had gently placed you on his sofa and left for the kitchen. You had just turned on the tv for some background entertainment as Sam makes his way back to you, two steaming mugs in hand.

“Next time you’ll just have to come with me” you smirk up at him. Knowing full well there is barely anything Sam can deny you.

“Just tell me where and when and I’ll be ready. It’d be nice to see Tess and your mam again” he replies as he sits down beside you and places a soft kiss into your hair.

You shuffle closer and lean into his chest, getting comfortable with his strong arms securely around your frame.

“You also have yet to see mom’s apartment and where I grew up, my love” you tease and lean your head back so you can kiss his jaw.

He tightens his grip around you and leans in “Only if I’m getting the full tour, like” he rasps into your ear before leaving a trail of kisses on your cheek and neck. Your body’s only and immediate response is to melt into him, completely losing your train of thought. That’s the effect Sam usually has on you, but it is tenfold, now that you hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks.

You’re getting sleepy now with the low hum of the tv in the background, Sam’s soothing touch and scent lulling you into a comfortable slumber. But his featherlight touch slowly running under your sweatshirt and reaching the bare skin of your stomach, his sweet yet tortures attention on your neck, has you hyper aware again and you want to see how far he is going to take this right now.

“I love you” comes his low voice. You could feel the words run over your skin where his lips have been just a moment ago. Your eyes open and you turn your head in his direction. That’s not where you thought this would go.

“Sam, I…” comes your breathy exhale as you look at him. He’s turning his face towards yours and looks at you with the sweetest expression, a little smile pulling his lips upwards, only adoration and love visible in his eyes.

“I don’t know what to say…”

“You don’t need to say anything” he leaves the softest of kisses on the corner of your mouth

“You also don’t have to say it back, yet. I just needed you to know” the look on his face is one of pure love for you, you can see the way he feels and cares about you all right there in the depths of his blue eyes. You’re so overcome with your emotions, the same feeling you hold for him, that there’s nothing else to do but say it back.

“I love you too” you breathe before taking his face into your hands and gently but urgently pulling his face towards yours, sealing this moment with a kiss.

You can feel him smile into it as he slowly runs his tongue over your bottom lip, and you grant him entrance. He quickly turns you around and pulls you into his lap without breaking the kiss. Pulling you tight against his chest, his hands start roaming your hips and back beneath your shirt. Your hands find his hair. You two are impossibly close, you can feel his heart beating inside his chest along your own.

After a moment longer, he breaks your kiss.

He needed to look at you, in awe of the girl in his arms. Of the fact that he got so lucky to fall in love with his best friend, and have his love reciprocated.

“I love you so much” he smiles down at you and you mirror his expression

“Can’t believe you’re actually all mine like” you can’t contain your happiness and chuckle at that, quickly pulling him back to you and reconnecting your lips with his.

The kiss gets heated pretty quickly and as you start leaving kisses and little nips on his skin, all the way from his jaw down to his neck and chest, Sam starts to gently lift up your shirt to pull it over your head. Leaving you to sit in your bra…

“Y/N” you hear someone saying your name way too loud and close to your ear. You startle out of your light sleep and straighten up a bit on the comfy seats of the tour bus.

“What?” you ask groggily, still not entirely sure who woke you up out of your lovely slumber.

Donna nudges your leg with her toes a little, getting your attention as she sits opposite you. Seemingly being the rude intruder. Only now you notice she is holding your phone out towards you

“Phone call for you. It’s Sam” she says nonchalantly, reaching out even further so you can see his picture lighting up the screen.

You finally take the device and press it against your ear. Clearing your throat, you hesitantly answer it “Hey” is all you come up with, scolding yourself, because the line is quiet for a beat and you wonder if he might’ve hung up again.

“Hiya, Y/N/N” you hear his soft response. Your mind is still a bit hazy having just woken up so you realize a bit too late what this moment actually means. You hadn’t spoken to Sam since your fight. That was almost a month ago now. He hadn’t shown up at your farewell party at the pub. And now he’s just on the other line of the phone call to you. That thought instantly wakes you up.

“What…why are you calling me?” you ask. No malice or anger in your voice, just genuine curiosity. You really hadn’t expected this.

“A just wanted to hear from you, ask how you’ve been doing? Tonight’s the first show, reet?”

“Oh, uhm. Yes, thank you. We’ve just gotten into the city, shouldn’t be long until we arrive at the venue”

You can hear some shuffling on his end and wonder what he’s up to. Is he back home now, sitting in his living room? Or is he still in London at Amber’s place?

“How have you been, how was London?” for some reason you feel the need to ask. Knowing this could as well send you into another spiral and make you regret ever opening your heart to him.

“Good, I ehm, I’ve just gotten back today” you nod at that. Relieved, maybe, to hear that he’s back north and not with her right now.

“Y/N, I actually want to” before he can finish his sentence Donna interrupts and lets you know we have just parked outside tonight’s venue. The whole bus is bursting with excitement you realize now, the band getting ready to head inside and take a look at everything.

“Sam, I’m so sorry. We’ve just arrived and everyone wants to go in and set up. Can this wait?” you hear him sigh and immediately feel bad for cutting him off like that. Not wanting your first conversation in weeks to end on such a weird note but, duty calls.

“I can text you once we’re done tonight?” you offer. You don’t want him to think he doesn’t matter to you anymore. Or that you don’t want to talk to him anymore or something.

“Aye, well nee worries just for me like. I’m sure you’d want to celebrate the first gig tonight!” “I just wanted to say good luck. And to wish you a great show” he sounds a bit hesitant, but you can also hear the sincerity in his voice. You smile at that and thank him before ending the call. Taking a deep breath, you finally make your way off of the bus and follow everyone across the lot and into your very first tour venue.  

#sam fender fanfic #sam fender imagines #sam fender fanfiction #sam fender x reader #sam fender #love again

[cdyssey]

Trust Me, Pt. 1/2

Summary: Melissa had to put someone down as her emergency contact.

CW: Car Accident; Medical Procedures; Hospitalization

A/N: Pt. 1 of my gift for @straperine​ for the Secret Santa exchange! Michael, ily!! I wrote more in the AO3 A/N, but the gist is that I adore you, and I’m so glad that we’re friends!

AO3 Link | Part Two

“Last time I trusted someone else to shuffle, I lost a kidney.” - Melissa Schemmenti

It’s a perfectly normal Saturday night.

Standing barefoot in her kitchen, listening to an old Sam Cooke vinyl on her grandmother’s still-functioning record player, Barbara hums to herself as she cards her fingers through her recipe box, looking for her poppyseed chicken recipe. Taylor is coming over for dinner tomorrow evening with her new boyfriend—a young gentleman named Marcus, who apparently works on Wall Street.

Barbara hates that.

Just a little.

Thinks she knows the type from the books she’s read and the movies she’s seen. 

Tie-wearing, cocaine-snorting, fast-talking hooligans.  

Mm. 

When she told Gerald of her suspicions during one of their occasional calls a week or so ago, he only laughed and said that she should give the boul a chance. Her ex-husband had caught a glimpse of him once on a FaceTime chat with Taylor and said that he seemed nice enough. A little bit of an egghead, maybe, but that’s only to be expected from a broker. When she told Melissa the exact same thing in the teacher’s lounge the next day—(dissatisfied with that perfectly reasonable answer)—to her chagrin, her best friend only doubled over in laughter too, briefly holding on to her shoulder for support. 

“God, Barb,” she shook her head, her green eyes twinkling with amusement, “I do love the way you see the world, hon.”

So, with these humbling reactions in mind, she grudgingly supposes she’s going to give Mr. Marcus Wall Street a singular shot. 

He had better not waste it either.

She eventually finds the recipe, props it up against a half-empty bottle of Merlot, and starts rooting around her kitchen to ensure that she has everything. She’ll need to go to the store and grab the chicken, definitely… a box of Ritz Crackers for the crust too… and maybe a few other necessities besides. 

More TV dinners to neatly stack in her freezer. (It’s hard to cook for precisely one person.) Another half-pint of milk. (That she won’t be able to drink by herself anyway.) A fresh bottle of wine that she will slowly and methodically desiccate to its dregs throughout two weeks, allowing herself a singular half-glass when the home she has lived in for twenty-one years feels like a total stranger. 

(So quiet. It used to never be quiet in the Howard residence. Once filled with the pealing laughter of her two beautiful girls. Once filled with the ambient noise of Gerald flicking on the TV after a long day at work. Once filled with their shared laughter as they gossiped together about some neighbor or another. But this had been well before the disagreements had begun. They never had fights, her and Gerald. Just polite disagreements in slightly raised voices. And she’d go to school the next day, attempting to plaster on a beatific smile that would crumble as soon as Melissa saw her, clocking her on the spot, seeing her. Oh, how naked she was beneath that verdant gaze, so exposed, like the carefully layered outfits that she meticulously put together disguised absolutely nothing. And the younger teacher would rush to her in an instant, dropping everything, and in the embrace of her friend’s arms, Barbara would finally let the mask drop too—if only for a few seconds, a minute at most, her face buried against the crook of that warm neck like it was her own personal Bible.)

As Sam Cooke’s soulful voice continues to warble through her empty kitchen, she harmonizes with him as she makes her grocery list.

And idly pours herself a half-glass of Merlot.

It’s a perfectly normal Saturday night.

After she heats up a bowl of leftover tomato soup for herself, she settles in her favorite recliner in the living room and prepares to watch Jeopardy!, which’ll be on in about ten minutes.

She tries to call Melissa twice to see if she wants to get on the phone and watch it together—as they sometimes do these days—but to no avail. She gets hit by Melissa’s vaguely threatening voicemail twice.

“Melissa.” A slight pause, wary, like her dear friend thinks that even giving her first name might backfire on her. “Schemmenti. If ya need me, you know where to find me. If you’re tryin’ to sell me somethin’, don’t.”

She leaves a message on the second call, just a general no worries if you’re busy.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

And so, Barbara eats dinner in silence too, occasionally calling out the answers to clues. Hamlet. The Grand Canyon. Ghosts. Jennifer Coolidge, though the correct answer is actually Jennifer Hudson, which seems incorrect to Barbara but alright. 

She gets tired of doing that by Double Jeopardy, though, and sits the rest of the program in silence, idly stirring the dregs of her soup. The grandfather clock in the corner slowly drags her into seven, the toll echoing solemnly through the darkened room.

Melissa never calls her back.

And it’s fine, of course.

She’s well-aware her friend has a life of her own… but Barbara admittedly likes it—much more than she rationally should—when the two of them share their evenings together, even when it’s just over the phone.

Melissa’s been her saving grace in all of these endless months since the divorce, coming over on so many weekends—and now that school’s out for the summer, much more often than that. They’ve chatted and cut-up and talked about new art projects they want to try with their kids in the fall, shoulders lightly brushing, their curving hips, their thighs. Melissa has unfailingly cooked for her, always lamenting the deplorable state of Barbara’s fridge or else complaining about her depleted spice cabinet. 

Perpetually making sure that she has enough to eat.

She made the tomato soup that Barbara is currently picking at, having popped over for dinner just two nights ago with a foot-long baguette, a bunch of vegetables, and assorted spices that she dragged from her own kitchen.

“You gotta know I love you, hon,” Melissa had huffed as she dropped her haul onto the pristine island in Barbara’s kitchen. “I haven’t cooked for someone this much since Joe.”

At first, Barbara had easily smiled at the fact that she was loved by Melissa, warmth radiating through her chest and all the way down to her perfectly manicured fingertips, but then, she had been less pleased by the casual comparison to Melissa’s idiotic ex-husband, blinking in a manner that she hoped wasn’t too revealing.

“Joseph was hardly as good-looking as I am, though, right?” She had asked, trying to play it all off as a joke.

Of course it was a joke to her.

This jealousy that she was pretending to affect.

Melissa only chuckled, though, and lightly swatted her on the ass with a dish towel, which did something unpleasantly delightful to her insides too.

“Damn straight,” she winked, and Barbara hasn’t been able to let go of the moment since. She rubs the emptiness on her ring finger almost subconsciously, as though she can still feel where it had cuffed her.

(The inlaid diamonds had almost been as heavy as her guilt.)

She gets Final Jeopardy right.

Derrida.

It’s a perfectly normal Saturday night.

After taking her makeup off, showering, and slipping into her favorite silky pajama set, she finally crawls into the king-sized bed that she had once shared with Gerald and tries to settle her mind by reading. She and the ladies at her Bible Club have been making their way through a pretty hefty devotional lately—(in-between a little light gossiping about Brother Carlton Sanders’ possible mistress, of course)—and Barbara tries to stay on top of the weekly readings as much as she can with her busy schedule.

But tonight, the words of God are falling on glassy eyes. She can only get through a few pages before she’s distracted, disconcerted, discontent—staring at the empty space next to her, gently biting her tongue between her teeth.

It’s been eleven months since she and Gerald divorced, their thirty-seven year marriage ending as it had so beautifully begun—with a moment of quiet intimacy. They laced their hands together in their attorney’s office and both quietly shed tears at what they were about to do.

She almost changed her mind then, right as her shaking pen was poised above the dotted line with her name neatly printed beneath it.

Almost conceded to everything that would be required of her to not let him go.

Almost gave that crucial piece of herself away.

Here, take it—I can’t do this.

I don’t know how to be alone.

I don’t know how to be without you.

But Gerald, still holding her other hand, squeezed it and silently reminded her it was okay.

They had done everything right in a desperate attempt to preserve their marriage.

They had talked to their dear pastor first, Brother Hank, who told them that God knew the plans He had for them, plans for them to prosper and not be harmed, plans for them to have hope and a future.

“But that doesn’t necessarily mean that your future is together,” he had added kindly, peering between both of them with keen eyes. He had known them for well over twenty years now and had been their friend through most of them.

It was time, he implicitly said without ever saying the words, but neither Barbara nor Gerald had been ready to hear it then, both stubborn to the last.

They had gone to at least five months worth of couple’s counseling after that, Gerald an unstoppable force and Barbara an immovable object on the subject of her husband’s possible transfer. He was an excellent welder, and his company wanted to send him down to New Orleans to work on the cruise ships that docked and departed from the Big Easy. The pay was handsome—far more money than Barbara had ever seen in her entirety of a career as an public school educator—but the emotional toil was steep. 

Gerald wanted to move back to Louisiana—where she’d been raised and where they had initially met when he temporarily located there for a job. It clearly made more sense than him traveling back-and-forth between contracts, but Barbara had been adamant about staying in Philadelphia. She was too old to start anew at a different elementary school in a now foreign place. And she didn’t want to leave Abbott, having invested nearly half of her life there, with so much more left to give yet. 

Ava surely needed her. Though the once thoroughly incompetent principal had grown leaps and bounds over the past few years of her tenure, she still relied upon Barbara for some help with the budget and other administrative duties.

Her young mentees too—Janine, Jacob, and Gregory—all coming into their own as fine, young teachers, of course… but still, whenever they encountered some hard problem or another, they unfailingly continued to consult Barbara. They called her their work mom and she fondly (if a little exasperatedly) claimed them as her own.

And then there was the problem, the possibility, and the exquisite pain of surely losing Melissa Schemmenti.

Melissa—her dear, sweet Mel—independent and self-sufficient, bold and thoroughly capable and so full of life… probably didn’t need her.

But Barbara did.

Barbara needed her best friend.

She would never admit it aloud—not even to herself, much less to Gerald—but even the mere thought of parting with Melissa fueled an almost ungodly amount of her hesitation. She had been inseparable from the younger woman for nearly as long as she had been teaching at Abbott, then new to Philadelphia, lacking a community and a context beyond her nuclear family and the Baptist church they went to every Sunday.

But then there had been Melissa, whom she had instantly clicked with despite the thousands of differences between them: their ages, their upbringings, their overall demeanors and almost every last habit in-between. But before three months had passed since Mel had become a teacher at the school, the two of them had already claimed the round table closest to the fridge in the teacher’s lounge as their own.

A South Philly native, born and raised, Melissa took her under her wing and made her feel at ease in the city, something that even her husband hadn’t been able to accomplish. She would never forget this initial kindness, even though she has long since striven to repay it. 

She would always remember that Melissa had been the first person who made her feel at home.  

But there was something about this particular truth that felt like it was unsavory—a confession of sin weighing upon her otherwise stainless soul. 

So they argued about thousands of different things.

But never once about Melissa.

She wouldn’t dare probe that tender wound for Gerald to see, somehow finding it much more tenable to let it fester beneath her carefully buttoned shirt and become an abscess, a maw, dark and desolate, devouring her from the inside out.

It gnawed on her that her husband of three decades had to beg her to leave, but she innately knew that her friend of nearly the same amount of time didn’t have to so much as lift a finger to convince her to stay.

What was wrong with her?

How had her kind and loving marriage arrived at this terminal end?

(And what, pray tell, had her relationship with Melissa become in all the intervening years?)

(Friend was starting to feel insufficient, lacking the gravitas to encapsulate the fact that the two women had spent nearly thirty years together, teaching side-by-side in the unchanging hallways of Abbott Elementary. Partner felt closer—maybe comfortable even—but partner was dangerous too, laden with some of the same connotations that encircled the diamond encrusted band on her fourth finger.)

(So friend would have to fit. She would make it fit, damn it. She was Barbara Howard, by God, and if anyone could maneuver a square through a circular hole, it was surely her.)

“You could retire.” If Gerald had brought this suggestion up once, he had done it a hundred times. “My salary would finally be more than enough to support us, Barb, and you wouldn’t have to work anymore! You could finally have time for all the hobbies you’ve wanted to do!”

Barbara had intimately known that he was just trying to be considerate when he made remarks such as these, but it had simply devastated her, with each occasion, to know that he had thoroughly misunderstood her life’s project. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life pursuing hobbies; she wanted to be in Classroom 1A, teaching the next generation how to read.

Their marital counselor, a kindly lady named Mrs. Russell, emphasized honest communication, encouraging them to voice their wants, needs, and fears to each other—something which they increasingly found they could only do with her in the room, and even then, in front of the counselor and God Himself, Barbara could not be completely vulnerable.

“We’ve raised our daughters here,” she once said, deflecting.

“And our daughters are grown now,” Gerald replied gently—always gentle, her Ger. She loved that about him. Sitting across from him in a hard-backed chair, she had never hated that trait of his more, how it cast the weakness of her protestations in clear and ungainly light.

“But what about your family?” She grasped at straws. “Your stepfather?”

“My brother can finally step up to the plate to help with him, and we can always come back to visit.”

“Taylor’s only an hour or so away from us now.”

“Taylor can fly out to see us anytime she wants to.”

“Gerald,” she had only pleaded at the end, during the last fifteen minutes of their final appointment with the marriage counselor. Their careful budgeting wouldn’t allow them another, not if they wanted to make next month’s mortgage payment on time. “I’m not finished yet.”

Finished.

Barbara Howard used all her words very carefully, and this particular verb was no different. On her desperate tongue, it implied an end, a conclusion, a vital depletion.

She’d be passively destroyed, hollowed out, chipped away piece-by-sordid-piece, weathered with the patina of time until nothing was left but the ruins of herself still standing miraculously tall. She’d be the pillar of salt, perpetually looking back at the homeland she had made for herself as she slowly eroded to the grains.

I’m not finished yet.  

And I’d be finished if I went to New Orleans.

If I retired in a city I was unfamiliar with.

A ghost well before my time.

She begged him with her eyes, with the tears that were traitorously starting to leak from them, to read between the lines, to understand the magnitude of what she was still incapable of fully saying.

Gerald digested it quietly, agony straining every weathered line in his face. He stared at the ground and sat like a man carved from stone for what felt like minutes, hours, days—forever in a microscopic moment.

“Me neither, Barb,” he eventually croaked, finally looking up at her, with desolation in the darks of his eyes, and she knew at once that he wasn’t talking about leaving Philadelphia.

His own ghosthood was staying in it.

“I’m not finished either.”

Together, they had arrived at an untenable conclusion.

The only one that remained.

It was time.

They had been married for thirty-seven years, in love for perhaps forty.

Even still.

It was over. 

Finished.

It was an amicable split, a no-fault divorce, and the two of them have done everything in their power to remain on good terms with each other since then—not just for their girls’ sakes, but very much for their own. Their one irreconcilable difference has done nothing to change the fact that they still care for each other deeply, that they will always have thirty-seven wonderful years between them, that they will always be family. They chat on the phone at least once a month and send texts even more often than that. She forwards him mail all the way in Louisiana. He sends her pictures of weird birds he sees when he’s out on a job. She usually smiles and responds, LOL.  

Barbara most definitely isn’t in love with him anymore—the entire year they had spent fighting and ten months of separation besides has firmly put the nail in that coffin—but admittedly, she does miss him from time-to-time all the same. 

The companionship he offered. 

The safety.

The peace.

She places her devotional on top of her blanket-covered lap and stares off into the middle distance for what feels like an hour, though when she checks her phone, it’s only been three minutes. Her lockscreen is a selfie of her and Melissa from when they had gone on a road trip together this past spring.

It’d been the younger woman’s unsubtle way of saying, Hon, I’m dragging your mopey ass outta the house if it kills me.

Melissa’s chin is nestled against Barbara’s shoulder in the unsteadily taken picture, the sun glinting off the scarlet vividness of her hair, and Barbara herself is smiling down at her friend, visible affection in her eyes.

Love.

She is smiling even now, at this very minute, always heartened by the reminder that she exists at the same time as Melissa Schemmenti.

Oh, how she adores this woman.

It vaguely bothers her, though, that Melissa hasn’t returned her call or even sent a text to show that she's received it. It’s a bit unusual for her; she’s always been fairly quick about replying to Barbara…

She supposes that she’s just being a little clingy, though. 

Mel had mentioned something about going out this weekend after all. She likes to frequent bars occasionally and shoot pool with strangers.

Sometimes, she even takes them home.

Barbara crinkles her nose at the thought, distantly irritated by the image of Melissa swapping spit with some man who always ends up resembling Joseph in her head or trading lipstick with some woman who is devastatingly beautiful.

The women Melissa dates are always devastatingly beautiful.

That crucial fact always makes Barbara feel some type of way. She can deal with the Joseph substitutes—the slobs, the drunkards, the sleazes. After all, using Joseph as the paradigm and the example, she knows they’ll never last.

She cannot say the same of her own gender.

Indeed, she cannot say anything at all about the way that she has to repress an inexplicable urge to compete with Melissa’s inamoratas for her attention.

Even though she knows she maybe shouldn’t, Barbara wings one last text her friend’s way.

Girlfriend, call me back in the morning!

Let’s grab brunch.

Perhaps they can go to Over Easy—that breakfast café up the road from Melissa’s house—and inappropriately sip mimosas at eleven in the morning and share a stack of waffles as they talk about their week. And perhaps, like the last time they did as much, Barbara will have the opportunity to reach over and thumb away the little bit of whipped cream that somehow gets on Melissa’s cherry-red nose…

It'd been so lovely, sharing that domestic intimacy with her.

It doesn't strike her as odd at all that she wants to do it all over again.

It’s a perfectly normal Saturday night.

And then, Barbara’s phone rings precisely six minutes after midnight, startling her upright in that big, empty bed. 

Groaning, moaning, fumbling a little in the coagulated darkness, she flicks the latch on her bedside lamp and snatches her phone up from where it had been laying facedown on her devotional.

Her first thought, seeing the unregistered number, is that it’s just another one of those damn robocalls, interrupting what had been a very good sleep, but the area code seems to suggest that it’s local.

She tentatively decides to answer—perhaps solely to chew the midnight caller out—pulling the phone up to her ear.

“Hello?” She asks crossly. 

“Hello, yes,” comes a tired voice—gruff but not necessarily unkind. Clinical, practiced even. This person is a professional. “Is this… Barbara Howard?”

He says her name like he’s reading it from a document, and sudden terror carves through her like a knife. 

“Yes, this is she,” Barbara grips her phone so tightly that her arthritic wrist starts to ache. “May I ask whom I’m speaking to?”

All of the sleepiness has been sieved from her in an instant, shed like a decaying skin. She palms her stomach, suddenly and completely nauseous. 

“My name is Dr. Alex McGill, and I’m in charge of the emergency room at St. Vincent’s tonight,” the voice identifies itself, nearly doing her in right then and there. St. Vincent’s. The hospital about twenty minutes away. She’d given birth to Gina there, and the association immediately makes her think of her girls, even though one is certainly in New York and the other is all the way in California. But then she comes to her senses—remembers that it’s highly likely that she’s still listed on Gerald's medical forms—and that terrifies her just as powerfully. “I’m calling to inform you about—”

“Who is it?” She interrupts sharply, incapable of enduring polite decorum, not now, not when every muscle in her body is clenched with unbearable anxiety. 

There is only one type of phone call that this can possibly be.

A short pause.

And in that infinitesimal moment, that tenth of a second before the entirety of her world is irrevocably shaken at its foundation, Barbara suddenly realizes the awful answer before Dr. Alex McGill ever articulates it.

“I’m calling because you’re listed as Melissa Schemmenti’s emergency contact,” he says, so gently, but even still, Barbara lets out a strangled cry that she barely registers as coming from herself. “A driver in a truck rear ended her around eleven this evening and caused her to skid off the road.”

The proclamation is simply ruinous.

And its hypotheticals violently assault her, seizing across her mind’s eye in a whirl of vicious colors.

Melissa in a pool of crimson blood.

Melissa slumped over against the wheel, turning blue.

Melissa, cold, laid out beneath a white sheet.

They force Barbara Howard on her knees, these horrible visions, these phantasmagorias; she feels the cold metal of their possibility against her goosebump knotted skin. She waits for the inevitable pull of the trigger.

Melissa! She wants to yell. She wants to scream. She wants to shake the world with her primal grief and tear it all asunder until someone, anyone, feels an ounce of the horror that is currently rearranging her central nervous system.

Melissa.

Please, God. Not now, not yet—not ever. 

“Is she—“ She can’t quite get out, choked and choking.

“She’s still alive,” Dr. McGill quickly assures her, his voice steady where hers is not. “She’s in surgery now with one of St. Vincent’s finest.”

And Barbara, holding the phone against her ear like it’s a lifeline, begins to weep with visceral relief.

She’s alive.

The doctor tries to console her further, she thinks—perhaps even giving her specifics—but she barely registers that he's speaking; her head only has room enough for one recurring refrain.

She's alive.

She's alive.

She's alive.

#work wives #melissa schemmenti #barbara howard #abbott elementary #s: abbott elementary #reginianwrites #straperine

[daaydreamy]

a deep dive | h.s.

chapter four - that feels… new?

summary - harry feels new things, and likes it.

warnings - coarse language, smut, fingering (m receiving), pegging, sub/dom themes

word count - 2.7k+

“Can you try this for me?” Y/N took a bit of sauce in the wooden spoon she was using, holding it up for Harry to taste. She had tried it herself and since they were making a meal for both of them to eat, she wanted to make sure Harry liked it too. 

Harry leaned in and tasted a bit of the sauce, looking at her as the flavors danced on his tongue. 

“It’s good.” He nodded and Y/N smiled, making Harry laugh a little. 

One thing about Y/N was that she was a great cook. She absolutely adored cooking. She liked to cook her own meals and sometimes did it to just release some stress. She liked to bake too, she liked all things in the kitchen. Harry though… was not so much a great cook. He didn’t cook often and when he did it was not that good of a meal. He was glad he and Y/N were helping each other because if he did all of this he was bound to probably spill something since he was quite clumsy. 

“You’re a good cook.”

“Thank you, I know.”

•••

“Notting Hill?” Y/N looked at Harry with a bowl of pasta in one hand and the TV remote in the other. They had been scrolling on Netflix, taking a while to find something they liked. They had been eating dinner on the couch too, to make themselves more comfortable. 

“Yeah, yeah. That’s good.” He nodded after swallowing down some pasta, really astonished by how good it was. It tasted amazing, quite possibly the best meal he’d had the whole week. He was eating it quickly too, not able to help himself from such a delicious meal. He was already starting to like Y/N’s cooking, it was surely better than his own. 

And so they sat beside each other as they ate and watched quietly, Harry secretly reciting a couple of the lines from the movie in his head while Y/N secretly did the same too. It was nice. They both had nothing to do that night and they seemed okay with spending the night with each other. They had grown closer with each other, which they were both thankful for because the other to them was interesting. They both liked spending time with each other now. 

“I live in Notting Hill, you live in Beverly Hills. Everyone in the world knows who you are. My mother has trouble remembering my name.”

“Fine. Fine, good decision. Good decision… The fame thing isn’t really real, you know. And don’t forget, I’m also just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.”

Harry finished his bowl of pasta a while ago and had put it on the short coffee table in front of them, now leaning back against the couch as he watched quietly. He glanced at Y/N ever so often, noticing the small little smiles that would come up onto her face as she watched the scenes play on the screen. He quite liked this movie as well, having watched it a couple of times already. 

Y/N decided to stop holding the bowl in her hand and placed it on the coffee table as well, glancing at Harry before scooting a bit closer to him. She delicately placed her hand on his thigh, rubbing softly before taking it back. 

Harry couldn’t help but blush at the simple gesture, gulping quietly before continuing to watch the movie. It was close to ending, only about fifteen minutes left of content. He glanced down at her lap where she had put her hand back, bringing his own hand up to take hers, placing it back on his thigh. He kept his hand on top of hers for a couple seconds which made her chuckle a little, giving his thigh a gentle squeeze. 

“You’re cute.” Y/N said quietly and Harry would be lying if his cheeks didn’t get just a bit more pink. 

Eventually Y/N dipped the tips of her fingers into his inner thighs, her movements subtle. She pretended as if she didn’t even care and just continued on watching the movie, all while touching him softly. She knew Harry would get flustered. And she liked that. She liked seeing him flustered. Seeing his eyes go wide and his cheeks go pink was one thing that drove her mad about him. 

“What are you doing?” He asked softly and Y/N only smiled. 

“Nothing, nothing.” She replied, giving his thigh a few pats before taking her hand back. 

Oh, how he wished she hadn’t done that. He liked her touch. He liked how she made him feel. It wasn’t necessarily like he was in love with her, but her touch was just so nice and he couldn’t even describe it any further. She just treated him so well. In and out of bed. She was a great friend, funny and endearing. 

Soon, the end credits of the movie started playing. Y/N was stretching her arms out and Harry was just leaning back against the couch, a small smile on his face. His dimples were slightly visible from what Y/N could see, making him appear cuter than before. She looked at him for a couple of seconds before leaning in to kiss him softly, as if she had been waiting to do that the entire night. Well, maybe she was. 

Harry immediately returned the kiss, bringing his one hand up to place it on the back of her neck. His eyes fluttered closed and suddenly his heart started beating a little faster as the kiss got more heated and intense. Her lips were soft against his and he basked in that, moaning softly into her mouth. It was perfect, really. The atmosphere was cozy and comfortable and her lips, god, her lips felt so nice against his. The kisses she gave him were wet and sweet, something Harry thoroughly enjoyed. 

Soon enough, they reached Y/N’s bedroom. Y/N’s back was pressed up against the door as Harry kissed her, moaning into his mouth. Her hand was on the back of his neck, toying with the short hairs there. 

“I wanna…” She said breathlessly between kisses, “I wanna try something.” She finished her sentence and Harry blushed, wondering what she wanted to do. 

“Try what?”

“I-I wanna fuck you. Like, I wanna fuck you.”

Harry’s never done that before. He had never been fucked like that before. He knew what she was insinuating and he wanted to try, of course, but he was nervous now. He wondered if he would like it or not, and if it would hurt, and if Y/N would be mad at him if he said no. He did want to try it at some point, but… he wasn’t sure, really. 

“We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.” She smiled softly and Harry nodded, his cheeks seemingly so pink they were hot to the touch. 

“No, no, yeah I’d like to try that. I-I mean I’ve never done it before but I wanna try.” He stuttered out and Y/N chuckled softly from how flustered he was. He was cute when he was flustered. 

“Are you sure? We really don’t have to if you don’t want to, H, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s okay. I wanna try it.”

Y/N could only smile and kiss him as she took off her clothes. 

•••

“Lay on your back for me.” Y/N said softly and Harry nodded, leaning back to fully lay down. She liked this position. She liked being able to see how the other person looked during intimate moments. She liked watching how much more flustered they would get whenever she would tell them compliments or filthy things. She liked being able to lean down to kiss the person whenever she wanted to. 

Harry was nervous as he watched Y/N flip the cap of a lube bottle open, suddenly feeling like he was too exposed to her. 

“You okay? We can stop whenever you want to.” She reassured and he nodded. 

“Kiss me?”

What kind of person would Y/N be to turn that down? She leaned down and pressed her lips against his, trying to soothe him of his nervousness. She ran her one hand down his side, her fingertips grazing his skin, where goosebumps had risen in her wake. She parted her lips and felt his tongue slide in between them, humming softly against him in satisfaction. She spread his legs a little wider since he had squeezed his thighs together out of shyness, causing heat to rise to his cheeks. 

“Can I start?” She giggled and Harry nodded, smiling a little. 

Y/N moved to kneel in between his spread legs, putting a little bit of lube on her fingers. 

“Cold.” Harry jumped a little when she pressed her fingers to his entrance. 

“Sorry.” She chuckled softly, spreading his legs a little wider for herself. “Gonna take it slow, promise.” She reassured, slowly and gently pushing a finger into him. She smiled a little when Harry gasped, rubbing his thigh soothingly. 

“Fuck.” Harry whispered under his breath. It felt new and weird, but he was warming up to it a little bit. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He gripped the sheets a little bit, gasping once more when she gently thrusted her finger in and out of him. He gulped, moaning quietly when the discomfort finally went away and the pleasure finally started coming in. His body relaxed, realizing that he liked it. 

“More.” He said and Y/N chuckled softly. 

“Be patient, I don’t wanna hurt you.” She said and Harry groaned softly, shaking his head. 

“Can take it, promise.” He didn’t mind the pain anyway. He opened his eyes and looked at her, green eyes glassy. 

“Please.” He said softly and Y/N hummed, thrusting her finger in and out of him a bit faster. Harry’s back arched up a little bit at that, asking for more again. 

“More, please.” He said, moaning when she finally gave him more. His toes curled and then he felt his lips being pressed up against hers again, moaning into her mouth. He brought his hand up and placed it on the back of her neck, keeping her against him. Eventually, he pulled away from the kiss to breathe and rested his forehead against hers, laughing softly. 

“How does it feel?” She whispered softly and he moaned. 

“Good. So good.” He closed his eyes and she smiled, leaning down a bit more to press kisses against his neck. He tilted his head back to give her more access, squeezing her hip a little. His sounds stayed soft and pretty, something that was so pleasing to Y/N’s ears. She left a few marks on his neck to remind him of her the next day, kissing over them gently. Her arm was starting to ache but she didn’t really mind, all she was focused on was making him feel good. That was really all she wanted. 

“Can I fuck you now?”

•••

Harry giggled as he watched Y/N put the strap-on on herself, helping her a little with the straps. He laid back down and made himself comfortable, looking as pretty as ever. He blushed when Y/N pushed his knees a bit further apart, watching her line herself up with his entrance. His hair was sticking to his slightly damp forehead a little bit, brushing it away from his face. 

“S-slow, please.” Harry said softly when she started pushing into him, whimpering from the stretch. He gripped the sheets and closed his eyes as he tried to adjust from the new feeling. It hurt a little, but again, he didn’t really mind the pain. 

“I know.” She said and rubbed his thigh, looking down at where they connected. She moved slowly, giving it to him bit by bit. She then looked up at his face that was flushed, eventually pressing herself fully against him. 

He wiggled a little which made Y/N giggle, trying to adjust to the feeling of being so full. He opened his eyes and looked down at himself, blushing more before letting his head back fall down onto the pillow beneath it again. Y/N told him to relax while he tried to do his best, taking deep breaths. It was nice that she was reassuring him, it brought a sense of comfort to him. 

“Move, please.” He said softly and Y/N nodded a little before pulling out a little to thrust back into him. She did that a couple times, letting him warm up. She kept watching where they connected, starting to thrust a little bit faster. 

“You’re taking me so well, baby.” She praised and Harry moaned softly, pushing back against her a little. She chuckled softly and held him in place as she thrusted in and out of him, listening to the strings of whines and whimpers he would continuously let out. 

Harry’s cock was laying on his stomach, starting to ache for a release. He brought his hand up and stroked himself slowly as Y/N fucked him, whining softly as he touched himself. It immediately brought him more pleasure, feeling like he was getting lost in the pleasure. It felt so new and it felt so good and Harry liked it. He loved it, actually. And the praises Y/N would tell him would make his head spin, his love for praise only growing more. 

“You’re so cute. So pretty.”

“Does that feel good, hm? Am I making you feel good?”

“Good, that’s it, love, be nice and loud for me.”

God, Harry was melting into a puddle. A big puddle right beneath her. His head was getting a bit foggy and he felt all warm inside. He felt so good. He felt so good because of her. She was making him feel things he had never felt before and he liked that. He enjoyed the things she would do to him. 

“Wanna come.” He whimpered softly and she hummed, bringing her hand up to run her thumb over his nipple. He whimpered again because his nipples had always been sensitive, leaning into her touch. He gasped wetly when she lightly pinched it between his fingers, a mix of light pain and pleasure coursing through him. He was starting to stroke himself quicker, desperate to come. 

“You sound so pretty, you know that? So pretty when you’re whimpering for me.” She said in his ear and he closed his eyes, keeping his lips parted as soft moans and whimpers would slip past them. 

“I’m gonna come.” He whispered softly and she smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth. 

“Come for me, pretty boy. Wanna watch you.” She said softly and he whined when he started coming all over his fist, gasping to get air into his lungs as waves of pleasure washed over him. His eyes were closed tightly and his hand was quick with his strokes, riding out his orgasm. He made a mess on his stomach, some of his cum even reaching his butterfly tattoo from how hard he came. He couldn’t stop saying Y/N’s name and whimpering, his stomach clenching when he was starting to get sensitive. 

“Stop, stop. ‘M too sensitive.” He mumbled and Y/N obliged, stopping her movements. She stayed buried deep in him, whispering praises as she brushed his sweaty hair away from his face. 

“Was that good?” She asked him softly and Harry laughed a little. 

“Too good.”

•••

“Do you wanna eat something? I’ve got plenty of food.” Y/N asked Harry as she cleaned him up, wiping away the mess on his stomach. They were doing aftercare now. Y/N had cleaned herself up and was now cleaning Harry up, making sure he was feeling alright as well. He looked so pretty when he was fucked out. 

“No, I’m okay. Can I have water though, please?” He looked at her and she chuckled softly. 

“Of course. Wait here.”

She was too good to him. 

author’s note - i ADORE notting hill!! anyway i hope the fourth chapter of a deep dive was okay, feedback is always appreciated!! washing dildos is funny and thank you for reading bye i love you so much

BL0G N@VIG4T!ON | TABLE OF CONTENTS

#sub!harry #subrry #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x you #sub!harry x soft dom!reader #soft dom!reader #soft dom!y/n #a deep dive #writing

[rhodesrider]

NNN

Bloodline x Black! Fem Reader

NSFW! 18+! MINORS DNI!

Warnings: Sex Video and Masterbation Video sending, slight manipulation, mentions of sexual ASMR, Dic Pic sending

Word Count: …I’m sorry-

~

Y/N looked around the corner of her home and sighed in relief as there was no one in sight. She smiled as she sat on the living room couch in peace. Turning the tv on low but still on guard just in case she had some one to surprise her. She soon got a silent FT call from her friend Dasha, she answered it with caution.

“Hey um Y/N, quick question.” Dasha asked while she looked like she was hiding. “Are you sure just having no sex with them is the right way to do this?” Y/N nodded as on the other end she heard knocks near her hiding space. “I’m sorry but it’s the only way, I’m doing it too to support you girl.” Y/N smiles but looks around still on guard. “And I thank you for that but god the guys and Rhea are getting aggressive…” Dasha squealed a bit as the knocks turned into bangs. “Maybe we should call it off-“ “No way! It’s been a week I think they will be fine.” Y/N looked up at a text from Jey.

Ok baby this is cute and all but come get daddy off I miss you 😘

She just rolled her eyes and put her phone on DND. “Well imma stand tall. Because I know who’s doing the banging it’s just Damien.” Y/N was shocked. “He gets this hungry after a week?” Dasha nodded blushing some but got her thoughts together to stay focused. “I’ll talk later babe.” Dasha waved bye and hung up. “God I hope she last. It’s only been a week.” She sighed and soon heard a door open upstairs. She decided to stay calm and collected and notice it was Roman. “Hey baby.” He smiled and went over to kiss her forehead. She sighed in relief. “I’m glad you still have some common ground baby.” She smiled as Roman went in the kitchen.

“Yea like this whole little month thing ain’t nothing babygirl.” He smiled and he looked in the fridge seeing a can of whip cream, he sighed trying to keep himself whole. He moved it to the side keeping his thoughts of using whip cream on Y/N a certain way out of his mind. “Ya cousins are losing it thou.” She sighed seeing all three of the brothers text her back and forth. Jey being the horniest sending a fresh nut video. She hit her lip watching it and quickly closed her phone trying to stay calm. “Hey baby is Dasha doing ok?” Roman asked sitting by her drinking an energy drink. “Oh yea she’s fine I have faith in her besides who ever wins gets to go to the mall with their assigned card.” She smirked. Roman sighed, “ok we should talked about this before you made that bet with the card.” Y/N shrugged.

“She has a lot to deal with thou. God I feel like a real obstacle would be Damien and Rhea.” She nodded agreeing. “But she’s strong like me.” Y/N smiled and Roman smirked. “Oh you are baby. So strong, so adorable..” She blushed at the comments and he rubbed her thigh. “…so fucking cute…” he whispered in her ear making her melt. He soon started to kiss on her neck smirking feeling that he has her right in his hands and soon she jumped up. “NO BAD ROMAN.” He groaned laying back dramatically. “Babygirl come on! It’s been almost a week!” He whined. “I expected better out of you daddy.” She pouted and she walked away going upstairs. She made it to her room but forgot her phone downstairs, suddenly her phone slid from under the door crease. She opened her phone seeing a recent video, Roman stroking his fat long dick groaning some, tempting her. She shuddered as she heard an evil chuckle.

“Jeez these guys don’t quit.” She laid on the bed in her room and soon seeing another silent text, Jimmy sending a video, a recording of him and y/n fucking. She was receiving back shots, her makeup running, him tearing her apart, his face of pure lust as he soon came in her, him groaning from the orgasm and soon him starting up again. She remembers that night being filled over and over and over. She blushed hard and her pussy throbbed she quickly got away from the video and scrolled on tiktok.

~

The guys were all texting in a group chat pissed.

Solo: Why tf is she doing this nnn shit?! It’s so stupid.

Jimmy: She’s trying to prove to Dasha that she’s not a sex fiend and vice versa, so they said who ever cracks first they get a shopping spree outta either Rhea and Romans card.

Roman: Again. Didn’t agree to that.

Jey: …

Jimmy: Jey u wanna say something I know you pissed-

Jey: I want her. Now.

Solo: Same man. I miss her.

Roman: Well she’s strong I’ll give her that. But we gotta do better. I wonder how Dasha is doing…

~

Dasha…was struggling. She whined in her bed trying hard not to touch herself. The one think that the group knows that will make her lose is her Voice Kink. She loves ASMR. So everyone, even Dominik sent her a file of 20 mins of them masterbating for her. Saying her name, climaxing, worshiping her. She was going crazy laying in bed and trying her hardest not to touch herself. Rhea smirked as the guys laughed knowing their evil dues. “So…this should work?” Dom asked Rhea. “Yes sweetie give it about 2 hours she’s gonna crack.”

~

Y/N stretched as she got from a nap taking the edge off some. She smiled going to her door and soon heard voices downstairs. She went ahead down seeing Jimmy and Jey on video games and Solo on his phone, then Roman starting to cook. She was relieved that they stopped trying for a bit. “Hey baby ready for dinner?” She nodded and sat at the island and soon she felt tension. The game paused, she heard solo get up, and Roman just smiled and gave her the dinner plate. She ate the food calmly as the boys just watched her like prey. After the door Roman took the plate and she got up. “Where you going baby?” Roman asked. “Imma go back upstairs…” she soon ran for it as the boys watched like them hunting prey. She made it to her room again and blushed slightly turned on, the tension in that room, the eyes on her, they wanted her bad.

This is gonna be a long month…

[skzhera]

Hera on the GET REAL w/ Ashley, Peniel, and BM!

*Part 2 of a one shot of Hera from Stray kids on the Dive studio's, Get Real podcast with hosts Ashley Choi, Peniel and BM*

Part 2

Ashely: Are there any embarrassing incidents that your fans don’t know about, or would possibly never know about?

Hera: um…

OH GOD, Yes! I have one pathetic incident.

Well, it was really sad for those employees at the company, quite funny to me.

So one day, I was just wrapping up things at the studio, we were practicing for our next comeback since morning and once everyone left, I decided to stay back and work a little more. It was quite late actually, now that I think of it, it was almost 3 or 4 in the morning. Which meant, very few people at the company; almost none.

I left the studio, slowly shut the door and began walking down the hallway, when I heard some whispering voices. As I got closer to them, I peaked over the corner to see who it was. They were a couple of managers from the company. Coincidentally, they were talking about no one other than me!

*They all laugh noisily*

Ashely: God, what shitty luck!

Peniel: They thought they were alone?

Hera: yeah!

So I slowed down, and tried hearing what they had to say.

Here’s what I heard,-

Peniel: Wait are u allowed to talk about it? I don’t want you to get into trouble!

Hera: f**k it. I’m not even allowed to curse, but here we are.

So, it was two dudes talking,

Dude 1: Man, I heard the kids’ are getting some reality television offers and a couple offers from prank shows and reality castings

Dude 2: woaah

Dude 1: yeah but they aren’t taking any of them. They can’t!

Dude 2: what do mean?

Dude 1: its adorable and cool that they are the same on and off camera which is why even we want to film those, but we can’t do it because of that female chic of theirs.

Dude 2: yeah, the only girl right?

Dude 1: yeah man! That chick’s got no filter. She’s wilder than all the boys combined!

Dude 2: what do u mean?

Dude 1: she is not very girl like man. Korean TV viewers won’t like that. She wears shorts around all the time, dark clothes, dark personality. Curses more than any of the other boys. Man, she isn’t even Korean what is she even doing here?

*Hera finishes laughing her ass out*

BM: Dude, if it were any one else they would have taken it in a hard way. But you, you are a weirdo!

Peniel: Well, they did say she’s wild loll!!

Hera: But its’s not true!

I agree I curse around a lot, but I’m pretty sure the aussies are a tough competition to me!

No wait but hear me out, they weren’t done. There I was trying my best not to laugh out loud at this point. Changbin had joined me on eavesdropping by this time.

Dude 1 but that not it, their entire group’s dynamics behind the camera is bit shocking!! They laugh around all the time, there’s no seriousness. The girl is constantly hitting someone, teasing each other, smacking each other’s butt!

*Hera laughs louder this time, along with dive hosts.*

Peniel: they got a problem with butt hunting? That’s so very stray kids of ya’ll.

Ashely: Aren’t ya’ll doing it, even on stage?

Hera: yeah man! Even our dancers are in on it. We have a lot of fun!

I just find it hilarious, how seriously they were conspiring about me!

Peniel: maybe they want in on it too. Its hilarious.

BM: No, but like I said, all of this is hilarious because she's taking it lightly. If it were any one else, they would have thought of this incident as something so dramatic, they would probably want to leave the company!

Ashely: Honestly, if I were hearing all these things, i wouldn't be so easy. I would have created a scene. I'm not even gonna lie

Hera: No, but the thing is, this was just one incident. I've been hearing all sort of none sense since day one. I'm glad my members love me enough to take some of my share of backlash for me!

Nonetheless, it's gossip that keeps me going!

Laughter rumbles again

Hera's Masterlist!

#skz Hera stray kids 9th member #stray kids #stray kids 9th member #9th member of skz #9th member of stray kids #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #felix #seungmin #i.n #bang chan imagines #lee know imagines #changbin imagines #seo changbin #hyunjin imagines #han imagines #felix imagines #seungmin imagines #i.n imagine #stray kids oc #stray kids female member #kpop female oc #kpop imagines #skz hera

[skjeinon]

yooo i missed you glad ur back 😀😀🫶🏻 can u do some kreids stuff 👨🏻‍🦲

this photo has been on my mind since i found it so i’m absolutely gonna write college kreids stuff

“chris…” you mumbled into his shirt, voice muffled by the soft material your face was pressed into.

“what, baby?” he whined a little, as if you had been pestering him for the last little while, which you had.

“please take me back to the house…”

“no. you don’t need to go back tonight.”

“yes i do…”

“not until you sober up , you don’t.” he worried that with how often you’d party with him and his friends, your sorority would kick you out. you happened to be around just enough to stay in, but you honestly enjoyed your boyfriends teammates more than everyone you spent greek life with, aside from a few.

“y/n, you can’t come back drunk, just stay at chris’ from now on if you partied without us.” was the new rule that was put in place. though you hated it.

“mhh…” you hummed. the two of you were laying on the couch in the campus house he shared with a few other players. you were laid on top of him sprawled out.

“okay… we’re going to my room, you’re tired and tipsy so maybe you should just sleep to entirely sober up.” he spoke softly, turning off the tv. he sat you up so he could get up, you complied while whining from being away from his warmth. “let me pick you up.” he smiled down at you. you threw your head back with a cheeky grin on your face as he pulled you up into his arms. carrying you to his room, he laid you on the bed and leaned down to place a kiss on your lips.

“i love you..” he smiled, pressing his nose against yours before he stepped away, pulling off his t-shirt and shorts, leaving him in his boxers. he had shut the door when he walked in, so that you could change and for once the both of you could have some privacy that night. he handed you some pajama pants, hoping they’d stay on your hips by the will of god and some drawstrings. as you stood up, he sat back down. he watched you as you slowly changed.

“my gorgeous girl..” he smiled while watching you pull the pants up your soft legs.

“don’t flatter me..” your voice came out in a concentrated tone, tying the string around your waist. you looked up at him again before you pulled off your t-shirt, leaving you in a bralette, not taking it off you sat back down with him. he snaked an arm around you and pulled you close. both of you half naked, halfway to tipsy and sober.

“you know maybe it’s good you have to stay here with me sometimes..” he spoke as he moved down, his tone was deep as his lips ghosted yours. your hand came to his cheek, pulling him a little closer before your lips pressed against his. you kissed him a little longer after the first time, and a little longer past that.

“chris..” your voice came out in a whisper.

“did i do something wrong?” he quickly pulled away, not too far but enough to see your face, he was always scared to go past any level then cuddling when you weren’t entirely sober.

my eyes opened to see his face, eyebrow’s furrowing. “what? no?… keep kissing me.” you giggled before pulling him in again.

you adored this boy and everything about him. his personality and strength, his willingness to look out for everyone and everything about him. no one in the house slept good that night, it was a long one for just about everyone. you and chris made it up to the rest of the boys with breakfast in the morning <3

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