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#i used some pictures from old magazines for the backs
iwilltryalittlearter · 6 months
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I saved some cookie wrappers to use in my button maker.
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thebestofoneshots · 4 months
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This isn’t really a request but this came to may head at three in the morning ok Imagine like your getting fucked by one of the Marauders or all of them and yk those moving pictures they have in the wizard world image they have a whole box filled of the reader getting back shots and EVERYTHING 😵‍💫🥴
THE STASH | marauders x reader
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Pairing: J.P. x S.B. x R.L x Female Reader
Word Count: 5 k
Warnings: Smut, finger fucкing, a little bit of PTSD on Sirius, pictures taken w/o reader’s knowledge, reader being insecure and gaining back confidence thanks to the boys.
Prompt: You find the boy's stash, filled with lusty pictures and they make you feel insecure, thoughts about not being good enough for them arise, the catch is, that’s THE OLD stash. (Happy ending)
Notes: I had a similar idea already in my head so when I saw this ask I just knew I had to make it happen.
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♡ NSFW: Smut under the cut
You knocked on their door a couple of times when no one said anything, you decided to let yourself  in, “Rem? Jamie? Sirius?” 
No answer. 
You looked around and went to sit by Remus’ bed. He said he’d see you in their room later that night for study and maybe something more, but with study club and prefect duties, you assumed he was as busy as the two other boys were with the quidditch training. You didn’t mind it much though, their room was a lot more quiet to study in than yours, and it was always fun to see their surprised faces when they walked in and you were there. 
You were taking your book and some parchment out when a pot of ink fell from your bag and onto the floor. There was a thud and then another one and then it spilled all over. You gasped and left the bag on the side before leaning down to pick it up. You whispered a quick “reparo,” and the crystal pot wasn’t leaking anymore, but the ink was still on the floor and some of it was spilling down the wooden floorboard. 
“Fuck,” you whispered as you summoned a napkin from your bag and started to clean as best as you could, but it didn’t seem to be working, it was still spilling down into what looked like a nook on the floor. You frowned and looked at the wooden board in detail only to realize there was a section that was a little more worn than the rest. 
You frowned and tried to lift the board by digging your nails on the side but it wasn’t working, you huffed and walked over to Sirius’ night table to see if he still had his pocket knife there. Luckily he did, and you took it, pulling out one of the blades and using it as a crane to lift the wooden board.
Once you did you realized the ink had slipped inside most of the things they kept in there. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whispered continuously as you tried to pull off the things in fear that they would be ruined with the ink. There were some old letters, some hand-rolled cigars, a few potions and then a small box, that one had gotten most of the ink. You winced and pulled it out, biting your lip as you tried to concentrate. You had been so busy with the cleaning, that you never saw the spiderwebs that covered most of the items. 
“Evanesco,” you whispered, focused solely on the ink, which successfully disappeared, but so did the small lock they had on the box and it opened by itself. You blinked a couple of times when you saw what was inside. You carefully grabbed one of the images, a stunning red-headed witch, winking at you as she bounced around, with her very large, and very beautiful breasts in full display. 
You gulped as you stared at her, she wiggled her shoulders a bit and gave you another wink. You sucked in a breath, she was freaking stunning. And probably there because of James’ fixation with redheads. 
The rest of the pictures were turned over, but curiosity got the best of you, and you took another piece of paper from the box. That one was bent in four, as if it had been ripped from a magazine. You slowly unbend it, first one fold and then the other and there was another stunning witch in the image. 
This one had smaller breasts, but she was leaning down on a bed, perfectly manicured hands brushing over her own folds, two perfectly long and well-shaped legs on the side. She had dark skin and the light reflected on her legs as she accommodated on the bed, her head leaning back with what looked like a sigh as she rolled her hand over her clit. She too was beautiful, and perfect. 
You sat the image on the side, next to the redhead and pulled another one. One of the smaller ones, only to be met with yet another stunning witch, perfectly flat stomach, and beautiful perky breasts, she was riding a pillow, one hand on the bed and looking straight at you as she bit her lips, inviting, enticing. You placed her next to the others as you pulled another image. And then another, and then another. 
Image after image, perfectly attractive witches in all sorts of positions, some by themselves, some with companions (either other hot witches or the cock of a wizard or two). You pressed your legs together, there was a mix of feelings inside you. First of all, you were a little turned on after seeing such kind of imagery. But second, and most important. You were a little upset. 
Which was ridiculous, you knew. Expecting the boys to pleasure themselves with the thought of you in mind when you weren’t around was stupid, especially when there were clearly much better and hotter witches in the market. What with their perfectly round breasts and their beautiful lips and flat stomachs and long legs and rosy cunts. You looked at them with a bit of a frown, they all had something in common, they were perfect, and you? You were far, far from that. 
Now you weren’t upset that the boys were doing themselves, you knew men needed a lot more release than women did and you tried to keep that in mind as you placed all the beautiful witches back in their box, but you couldn’t help but think: Did they also think of them when they were with you? Did they imagine the beautiful redhead’s breasts when they were kissing yours, or maybe that they were in between the legs of that girl with the gorgeous reflective skin instead of your own? 
While the pictures were meant to be stimulating, and they had been a little at the beginning, the more you thought about them, the more you thought they were so much unlike you and the more your thoughts continued to spiral. 
“Such beautiful witches…” you murmured as you closed the box, “and they are equally gorgeous men… why are they–“ You didn’t finish your words out loud, too painful to say them outside of your head. 
Why are they with me? 
You carefully placed the box back into its spot, cleaned the rest of the things that had gotten stained and placed everything back in their stash. You carefully placed the wooden plank back where it belonged and put Sirius’ knife back in his drawers. You took a deep breath, not feeling up for much and instead ripped a page from your notebook. 
“I’m feeling a little sick, see you boys tomorrow.”
It was simple enough not to make them question further, you left it on top of Remus’ bed and left the room. 
The following day, the boys being as marvelous and attentive as they were, had gotten you to forget about the stash almost completely. And things had been absolutely perfect since then.
At least until a few days later, you had been playing wizards chess with Sirius on his bed, and after he beat you for the third time making you feel both hopeless and a little dumb for not anticipating his moves –which was also ridiculous because Sirius had been a wizard chess champion– he offered to make it up to you. 
It was in the spark in his eyes that you knew exactly what he meant. You bit your lip, Remus was reading a book on his bed while James was snoring lightly next to him, one hand draped across the other boy’s torso. You knew they’d want to join in when they realized what you and Sirius were up to, and it sent a shiver down your stomach. 
“What do you say, doll?” Sirius asked as he levitated the chess board and the broken pieces to the side, inviting you to come closer.
You huffed “You think you can make it up with your little puppy eyes?” 
Sirius pretended to think about it for a second before nodding. “While they should be enough, I’m still planning to use more than just my looks to make you feel better.” 
You returned the smile and leaned closer to him, moving to straddle his sitting form, his back was pressed to the headboard and you could feel he was at least a little excited as you leaned into him. 
“Did you win so many times just so you could say that to me?” You asked in disbelief, you were drumming your fingers near the nape of his neck.
“I might have been a little extra attentive,” he replied as he grabbed onto your hips and placed a kiss on your neck. “I know how riled up you get when you can’t best me,” he said before placing another kiss, this time further up, “I kind of enjoy seeing your little frown, and angry looks,” he admitted, he was now kissing your jaw. You rolled your hips into his and he tightened his grip on your hips in response. 
You smiled, loving the fact that you knew exactly what Sirius liked and how to get him worked up, at least as much as he knew of you. You rolled your hips again and he reached his hand under your skirt, feeling the outside of your leg before flicking his hand to the inside of it. To the softer skin that he grabbed with firm tenderness. Itching his hand closer and closer, making sure to massage your skin, tauntingly. 
You leaned your head onto his shoulder, letting his beautiful hair fall on your face as you rolled your hips again, a lot softer this time, matching his pace and wanting his hand to come closer. 
“Eager, are we?” he teased.
“Shhh, you’ll wake up Jamie,” you said as you leaned over to kiss his neck. He bit his lip to hold back a moan and finally placed his hand over your panties, tracing a soft line over your slit. You bucked your hips against his hand and he chuckled lightly. 
Remus, who had been focused on his book so far, frowned and looked up at the two of you, smirking a little when he noticed what you were up to. Of course, he knew that chuckle, it was Sirius’ sexy teasing laugh. 
“Easy love or you’ll be the one to wake up Prongs,” he said, leaning his head to your ear and softly nibbling on it. He traced his hand over your slit a couple more times, and you bucked your hips again. He smiled, you didn’t see it, but you felt it against your skin, “All right, all right…” he said as he flicked his finger over the hem of your panties and moved them aside. You leaned even closer to him as he dug his fingers in, “All of this for me?” he teased as he felt how wet you were. 
Remus, who was now only half looking at his book, had somewhat of a fun time as he listened in to your conversation with Sirius. He would be lying if he said he didn’t find it stimulating. But he also knew Sirius had had a bit of a bad week, so he thought of letting him have you just for himself, at least for a little bit longer, or until James woke up, just as eager to join in. 
“Sirius please,” you whined with a frown and he smiled, letting his fingers trace up until they found your clit, making circles over it, which had you bucking your hips against him again. You bit the side of your cheek as you allowed him to move his hand, leaning in to kiss his neck again, to muffle any possible moans with his skin. 
“May I?” he asked, teasing your entrance with his index. 
“Mhm,” you said and bucked your hips again, eager for him to do his thing. And he complied, digging his finger inside and allowing it to move inside you as expertly as ever. 
“So tight,” he whispered, Remus’ cock twitching at Sirius’ words and reconsidering whether he actually wanted to wait more before joining in. 
He did not, so he carefully lifted James’ arm from his torso and walked towards Sirius’ bed. He sat right beside the two of you, a cocky smile on his face as he tilted his head to the side, “You two having fun there?” he asked, “without me?” 
“You’re always welcome to join in Moony,” Sirius said with a teasing grin as he pulled you back just a little. You had both of your hands on Sirius’ shoulders, and you were now using them as leverage to ride his hand. 
Moony smiled, “I might just watch for a while,” he said, leaning back and placing one of his hands on the back of Sirius’ neck. He knew how much small actions and touches like that made Sirius react, and he smiled as the boy’s breath hitched in his throat. He then turned to look at you, a mischievous grin on his face, he took his wand out and whispered “Evanesco.”  
Suddenly both your shirt and bra disappeared, giving both boys the perfect sight of your breasts perking up at the sudden cold. Sirius grunted as he stared, and Remus hummed satisfied. You clenched around Sirius’ fingers –which were now two– whimpered and let out a soft moan. 
But then, as you felt their gazes on you, and you felt your own boobs bouncing as you continued to ride Sirius’ expert fingers, you started to feel self-conscious, of how you looked, of how they were staring at you, on whether they were actually thinking of you or imagining something else, someone else. Maybe the beautiful redhead? The busty blonde? The reflextive-skinned goddess with the beautiful legs? The brunette with the beautiful ass?
Suddenly the lights flickered, and they were gone. You relaxed, Sirius felt the grip on his shoulder untensing, but he thought it was because you were close. But Sirius liked to see your fucked out face when he had his fingers inside you, and in seconds the lights were turned back on, and you tensed instantly. 
The muscle movements were normal, but the way you suddenly dug your nails into his shoulders was not, at least not in the moment it was happening and not in the way it was either. Something was up.
He stopped moving his hand in an instant, “you all right, angel?” he asked, a small wrinkle forming on his forehead as his brows furrowed together. 
You seemed to be lost in thought for a second, Remus noticed that too, “Yeah… just. Let’s leave the lights off today.” 
Now it was Remus’ turn to frown, he took his hand from Sirius’ neck and sat straighter, pulling back and leaning in closer to look at your face, his hand instinctively traveling to your thigh.  Sirius, with one hand still inside you –now unmoving– was brushing his thumb in circles on your waist, they were both giving you their unwavering attention, and your breath hitched in your throat. You looked at them nervously, your eyes traveling from boy to boy at unprecedented speeds and you bit your lip, and then the lights were off again. 
Once they were off, you sighed and leaned your head on Sirius’ shoulder. He felt how you relaxed in an instant, and his frown deepened. “Angel, what is it?” 
“Nothing, light’s giving me a headache,” you lied. 
Sirius turned to Remus, while he couldn’t see much, he knew Remus would probably be able to see his questioning stance easily, with his enhanced senses, at least. “You believe her?” he mouthed. 
Remus shook his head in response, and when he realized Sirius couldn’t actually see he turned to you and placed his hand on your shoulder. “Are you sure that’s it, luv?” 
You swallowed, which was enough indication you weren’t, and you lied again, “Yes, let’s just, continue as is.” 
Sirius knew you were lying, and he hated it when you lied to him, he also hated not being able to see shit while Remus could see your every reaction so he turned the lights on, didn’t even use his wand for it, and you tensed again. 
You were taken aback by that and swallowed thickly. Your breath was slightly ragged and it was not because you were turned on, in fact, if anything, you felt rather apprehensive now. You cleared your throat. “You know, maybe I’m just not feeling it,” you lied again and pulled yourself off of his hand. 
Sirius felt way too many things at the same time, he was worried about your reaction since he thought he’d done something wrong. He was angry because he knew you were hiding the exact reason; he wanted, no, he needed to know what was up so he would never do it again, and thirdly, he was upset, he’d felt…rejected. And by you, no other. 
By the time Sirius reacted again, you were buttoning your shirt up and walking towards their door. James, who had been asleep till then, was finally awoken by the lights coming on and off and the small commotion going on. He was confused, at first he thought you were just playing, but perhaps that was not it. 
But Sirius was faster, and he jumped over Remus to get to the door just as you were opening it and shut it closed. You jumped back just a little, shocked at how fast he’d moved, you were now the one with a frown, anger bubbling to your chest, Sirius’ temper had always been something you’d learn to deal with, and even if you knew it was justified now, that didn’t stop yours from flaring up. 
“That’s not it,” he said confidently, “that’s not it and you’re not getting out until you tell me what’s upset you.” 
“Sirius,” Remus said now, ever the conciliator. He’d also stood from the bed and walked the few strides left to get next to the two of you. 
Maybe it wasn’t the best reaction you could have had, but you were already pretty shaken up by the situation at hand, by your rather torturous thoughts and by Srius’ slamming of the door. “Oh, so you know my body better than I do?” you said defensively, “you would know if I have or not a headache.” 
“YES!” he responded stubbornly. “I know how it reacts when it has a headache and it’s not the way you were reacting now!” 
You shook your head as you scoffed, James was now sitting on the bed looking at the situation both confused and worried. 
“Moony! Back me up on this?” he said as he turned his face to him. 
Remus bit his lip, as he shook his head, thinking before speaking. “He’s right luv, that was not your headache reaction.” 
You scoffed, “ff course, you’d take his side.” 
“I’m not taking any sides.” 
“Well you are, just don’t realize it!” you said angrily. “If I say I have a headache, I have one and that’s it. Now, I want to leave.” 
“Darling,” Remus said as he let out a breath, he seemed worried and upset as well now, you were trying really hard not to feel bad about it, trying to remind yourself why you needed to leave. 
It was Sirius who spoke again, his lips quivering as he found the right words, “Just tell me what I did wrong, I’ll never do it again, I promise,” his voice broke near the end. He was panicking, he was terrified he’d hurt you and that you’d leave thinking the worst of him. You knew what was hapening had brought back some past trauma and you didn’t want to be the catalyst of another panick attack.
You took a deep breath when you heard him, your frown deepening as you considered your words, “I found your stash.” 
The three men went quiet in an instant. Sirius looked like a deer trapped in headlights, Remus’ jaw had tightened and you’d heard James’ gasp in the back. 
“Darling, I–“ Sirius tried to speak but you cut him off. 
“No, no,” you tried to reason, more with yourself than with him. “I get, it’s fine, you need your release time and all that, I don’t mind.” 
“Well, you clearly do,” Remus said. You felt a hand on your shoulder, it was James’. He had walked towards you the moment he heard about the stash but you hadn’t noticed until then. You flinched but missed the hurt look that etched his features as he looked at you. 
“Well yes. But it’s a stupid feeling nonetheless. I’ll get over it. Just need time.” 
“It was me,” James said from behind, “it was my idea, not Sirius’. Don’t be upset at him.” 
You swallowed thickly, not wanting to be angry at James for something so natural in men, let alone because you knew this whole mess was created due to your own thoughts and insecurities, not theirs. And now you were upsetting them, what a great bIoody girlfriend you were. 
“I don’t bIoody care whose idea it was!” you spat. “Please let me off,” you said then, leg bouncing, you wanted to get out before you said something that would upset them more. 
“We’ll never do it again if that makes you feel better,” Sirius tried. 
“No it– It fucking doesn’t, okay? It’s fine, it’s… Found it a couple of nights ago when my ink pot fell on the floor.” The three boys exchanged a look with each other, had either of them changed its spot? “It’s pretty fresh in my mind and– I just– I can’t stop thinking you’re imagining them while being with me.” 
“Them?” Sirius asked, confused. 
“The pretty witches!” you responded, almost angrily. Remus, who was in front of you looked confused, and you huffed before adding in more detail. “Beautiful redhead,” you looked at James. “Gorgeous blonde,” you added as you turned to Sirius. Then looked back at the taller boy, “need I elaborate?” 
You heard James gasp from behind. “She found the old stash!” 
“Ah, so you have a new and improved one,” you said now, and shook your head as you turned at the door. Sirius was leaning in and he had a cheeky smile on his face now, which pissed you off even further. 
“You could call it that,” he said with a shrug. 
“Sirius,” Remus said calmly again. “Don’t.” 
But Sirius just smiled instead, “Oh but, I’m impressed. Our lovely angel was jealous.” 
“I was not.” You said flatly. “Get off the door, please,” the last part was much more of a beg than a demand. 
Sirius shook his head, “not until you see the new stash.” 
Remus and James exchanged looks after that, not even sure if they should or shouldn’t stop Sirius. 
“I don’t want to see the witches you use to wank off now, it’s enough with the images already in my head. Can’t stop thinking of them, of you thinking about them when you’re looking at me.” 
Sirius’ face fell instantly, his teasing stance almost faltering but not his determined blockage of the door. 
“That’s not–“ 
“Have you considered perhaps it was the other way around?” Remus asked as he placed a slightly hesitant hand on your shoulder. 
“What?” 
“That we imagined you when looking at them.” 
You were taken aback by that. No, you hadn’t considered that. “What about the redhead, can’t tell me she wasn’t there because of James’ old obsession with Evans?” 
James sighed, it was. That’s why they had to get a new stash. 
“She needs to see the new stash,” Sirius said while looking at the two other boys. 
“I don’t think that’s a great idea,” James intervened, it had been his idea after all, and he had admitted it to you now. He didn’t want to have you get mad over something else, and this time your anger would be indisputably justifiable. 
“I think it is,” Sirius insisted. 
You sighed, “you can continue deciding if you’re going to show me your new fuckable witches or not a different day. Sirius, get off the door.” 
He shook his head and turned to James, “Please?” 
“I don’t want to see them! Enough is enough!” 
You turned to the side to try and find another exit when you bumped into Remus, he had a box in his hand. He raised it a bit, you knew what it was instantly. 
“Remus!” James complained and went to get it but was hastily stopped by Sirius who got in the way and trapped him in his arms. 
“Prongs behave!” He said sternly. 
The path to the door was free now, but Remus’ serious stance made you curious, even more when he moved his finger to his lips and bit hard enough to draw bIood. 
“What the fu–“ 
“It’s so no one can open but us,” he explained. “We bIood charmed it.” 
You looked at him with a shocked face, you didn’t think they’d go to such lengths to hide their spicy stuff, what the hell did they even have there?
Some of the metal hinges at the top moved around a little bit, looking almost like a miniature Gringotts vault, and then it snapped open. Remus pushed it your way. You looked at the three boys before picking the first image up. It was Remus, shirtless Remus on the day you’d gone swimming at the Potter’s last summer. He was pulling his hair back and water glistened all over his torso, he looked at you and winked, before turning to look at something else. 
You gasped and pulled another picture, it was James and Sirius, both also shirtless, and they were making out under a tree. Sirius had his leg in between James’ and was leaning onto him rather intensely. 
The next one was you, you had the swimsuit you’d bought that summer, the one you thought looked really good on you, and you were on your knees, looking for something on the sand, your ass was slightly prompted up and the picture was obviously focused on that. You swallowed thickly and went to grab another one. 
You again, this time while making out with Remus, his hand was on your ass and you had realized they were taking a picture, looking at the camera with a diverted gasp before covering the lens with your hand. 
You took another one, and this time around you were genuinely shocked, it was Remus, being blown by James. His pinky pretty lips wrapped around Rem’s cock. “Oh, wow.” 
James frowned, he knew what else there was in there and he wasn’t sure if he wanted you to see it, he had never felt worse about his own ideas than now. Responsible, he knew he had bertrayed you, in a way. You took the next picture and stared at it for a minute. 
It was you again, well, you’re back at least. You were riding Sirius, moving back and forth over his cock as he helped you, hands on your waist as he bit his lip. You didn’t see your face, but you knew it hadn’t been that long ago. If Sirius’ new tattoo was any telling. 
You looked at the boys shocked, you hadn’t even realized they’d taken the picture, but you looked as pretty as any witch in the other photos, how had they gotten you to look so good? 
They hadn’t done anything, it was just you. 
“You don’t have to–“ James started, but you had already picked up another picture.
“Shut up,” you said simply.
 You again, this time you were sprawled on the bed with a blindfold on your head. That had been on your birthday. James had one of his hands on your leg, dangerously close to your slit while Sirius was kissing your breast and sucking at your nipples. 
And there was more, a lot of pictures from that day, all in compromising positions. Some involving you and the boys, some involving only the boys on different occasions, some you remembered, some in which you hadn’t even been present. There was even one of Sirius wanking off to the picture of you in the swimsuit you had seen earlier. 
“I’m sorry–“ James said, now sounding distressed and shaking Sirius off him. “I’m sorry angel, we should have never done it.” 
You grabbed another one of the photos, it had clearly been rushed, the camera being hidden as you turned your head to look at the boys, this time around you were kneeling on the bed, and James was jerking himself off to you, teasing your entrance before pulling out completely and allowing his cum to fall over your ass and back. 
“You’re right.,” you said as you placed the pictures back in the box, expression neutral. “You should have never done it without asking me–” James swallowed. 
“Love I–“ 
“James, shut up!” you said again, giving the pictures another look. “You should have never done it without asking me first,” you said as you flipped through some more pics and tsking. “I would have helped.” 
James’ jaw dropped, and you looked at him with a cheeky smile. Sirius was looking at you proudly and satisfied with his choice while Remus stared at the picture you had in your hand. The one where you were getting a back shot but was shaky and blurry because the camera had been hidden before you saw it. 
You moved the picture up, holding it between your fingers as you displayed it to the boys, “What do you say we recreate this one, but with better quality?” 
Sirius scoffed a laugh and smiled. 
“I’ll get the camera,” Remus said simply.
James was still stunned, and you leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Sirius leaned from behind and kissed you on the cheek “I told them you should know about it from the beginning but they said you’re too pure for it.” 
You laughed at that, “you boys keep calling me angel,” you said as you turned to Sirius and wrapped your hands around his neck, “but I wouldn’t have done all the things I have with you all if I wasn’t the exact opposite,” you added with a smirk.
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This one might get a part two, if you guys wanna see that <3
Raead more Marauders Fiction
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colleendoran · 1 year
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How Do I Do Stuff
The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.
I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.
Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.
I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.
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I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.
This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.
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I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.
This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.
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But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.
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He's pretty, too.
If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.
Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.
Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.
Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.
However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.
Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.
The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.
Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.
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I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.
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While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.
So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.
If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.
Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.
Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.
So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.
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thesuperiorrobin · 7 months
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𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞
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Pairing: Damian Wayne x Florists!Fem!Reader
Word count: 570
Warning: Damian and reader are in their twenties, mentions of flowers and their opposite meanings(hatred,Stupidly, etc) this post was on Pinterest that was taken from tumblr but lost it and now I can’t find OG creator. If you know the OG creator of if this looks familiar please let me know so I can tag them. Mentions of the word skank.
A/n: i never realize how horrible 2000s magazines were until I read some my mom kept😭 Also this is all Bs. I’m sure all of these are not right bc I looked them up.
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the flower shop was quiet today, it was nice but boring. When the shop was running slow time I’m the place slows down too. And you hated it. You were stuck making sure the flowers were perfect even if they were and you were just trying to make your shift go faster. But none of that seemed to work.
You somehow find yourself reading old magazines from the two-thousands you found in the back of the shop. Your elbows are rested up against the top of the displaced case, flipping through the reach page as you read every box and bubble carefully.
��What makes a girl a skank? Huh?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you flip the page “Two thousands magazines are something else”
(and trust me they are).
The sound of the bell ringing makes you perk up, indicating someone entered the store. You close the magazine before you walk around the display case to face the customer who entered. You stand there surprised, eyes coming in context with green ones that you recognize from pictures and the news—also ones you see everyday when you go to sleep and when you wake up in the morning.
Damian Wayne stands in front of you and he doesn’t look happy. You smiled at him, welcoming him in. You bring him in a small short hug before pulling apart. Your lips lock for a short second before pulling away again.
“Hey. It’s a surprise seeing you here today. Do you need something?”
He gives you a nod “Do you have anything—flowers, that are symbolic of hatred? Maybe stupidity?” You were taken aback by the question.
Not that many people come in asking for flowers with bad meaning towards them—normally they come in asking for flowers that mean love.
You cleared your throat. “I believe I do, follow me”
You take him further down the shop. In the back laid different kinds of flowers, separated by name and by color.
“There’s a couple I know by heart that have both good and bad meanings to them” You start off eyeing every flower carefully as you try and remember the bad. You point up at the orange butterfly weeds, and Damian follows your finger “Those are very beautiful ones but no one gets them because they literally mean ‘be warned’. Which is shameful because they always die out here”
“Is that why you have so many back at home?” Damian asked softly, placing a firm hand behind your back.
You hum “or orange lilies maybe? They mean hatred and other rough emotions. There are also carnations, which mean disappointment. You can also get black roses. Those work too. What do you think?” You look up at your lover waiting for a response as he looks over the flowers.
He pulls out his wallet “How about all that you just named?” You give him a grin. Collecting the flowers and putting them together to make a beautiful bouquet.
You ring him up. “Are these for your wife Mr.Wayne?” You tease playfully.
“Nonsense, my wife deserves better flowers that do not mean hatred” he scuffs as he plays along.
“She’s a lucky girl”
“Yes, she is” he smiles down at you lovingly. He hands you a fifty dollar bill for a bouquet that cost thirty-five and seventeen in change. He refuses the extra amount left over.
“Keep it. Use it to bye more butterfly weeds” you sigh.
When Damian made up his mind he’s too stubborn to change it.
“Who are they for anyway?” You asked. Tilting you head as you put the rest of the money away.
“Tim was being idiotic during patrol and landed himself in the hospital”
“Oh”
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puppy-steve · 4 months
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steddie ☆ G ☆ wc: 682 ☆ cw: teen dads
a little snippet from my teen dads au: tiny hands, little feet
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The bell on the counter dings. Steve tilts his head back with a sigh and gives Robin a sidelong look across the table.
"Nope," she says, flipping through the only magazine they have in the place. They can probably recite the whole issue from memory by now. "I got the last three people. Go work your Harrington charm so I can add another 'you suck' tally."
The bell dings again and Steve groans, kicking Robin's foot as he rounds the table and opens the door leading behind the counter.
The lobby is empty. Great, they're getting ding-dong-ditch'd now. Fan-fucking-tastic.
He rolls his eyes and is about to snatch the bell off the counter and hide it when a tiny hand reaches up and taps it again. Steve holds back a snort, because he knows that tiny hand.
He steps up to the counter and sure enough, there stands a toddler with wild chestnut curls pulled into little pigtails, wearing a pink My Little Pony t-shirt and bright blue shorts.
Steve glances around the lobby and doesn't see anybody else in sight, which means...
He puts on his best customer service voice and gives the girl a smile. "Ahoy there, little lady. How'd you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with with me?"
Of course, she doesn't completely understand any of that. She just blinks up at him and points at the pictures of ice cream.
"St'awb'y, p'ease."
Steve nods. "A wise choice, m'lady." He slides the cooler open and gives his scoop a twirl, making her giggle.
The door opens and Robin slowly peeks her head out, looking flabbergasted. "Who in the world are you talking to? Why are you talking like that?"
"Careful, Buckley," Steve nods towards the child. "There's a princess in our midst. Wouldn't want her to throw you in the dungeon for disrespect."
Robin looks at the tiny child who is watching Steve with rapt attention.
"I think she's more interested in the ice cream, actually."
Steve gasps as he puts a couple scoops into a small bowl. "Hearsay, Buckley. She'll have your head for that." He takes the bowl around the counter and kneels on one knee as if he's a knight, presenting it to her with a bowed head. "The finest strawberry ice cream in all the land, your highness."
She claps her hands and her shoes light up as she stomps her feet. "St'aw'by! T'ank, Da'y!"
Robin's eyes widen and her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. "Daddy?"
"Sailor!"
Eddie Munson comes sliding into the lobby, his shoes squeaking on the waxed floor. He catches himself before he face plants and gasps like he's ran here from the other side of the mall.
"Sailor, honey, you can't run off like that!" he says around gulps of air. "About gave me a heart attack."
Steve picks the child up and scrunches his nose. "I think it might be time to give those backpack leashes a try," he tells him. "She's getting too curious for her own good."
"Wayne said I did the same thing at her age. Said it used to drive my mama crazy, trying to keep track of me." Sailor's chin is sticky with ice cream and Eddie wipes some of it off with his thumb. "You're taking after your old man a little too much, bug."
Sailor holds out her spoon. "Da'y try?"
Eddie can only huff a laugh and shake his head fondly. "Thank you, baby." He leans forward to take a bite of the offered ice cream and then turns to Steve to give him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I swear I had a hold on her. She saw the Scoops sign and then took off before I could catch her."
Steve sighs. "It looks like we're gonna have a little Road Runner on our hands."
"She definitely takes after you in that department, sweetheart," Eddie grins.
A throat clearing interrupts them and they both look at where Robin has been silently watching the three of them.
"Someone care to fill me in on all of this?"
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more snippets from this au
taglist: @yournowheregirl @judasofsuburbia @steves-strapcollection @thefreakandthehair @stobinesque @tboygareth @starrystevie @inairbinad @flowercrowngods @starryeyedjanai @matchingbatbites @corrodedbisexual @theheadlessphilosopher @sidekick-hero @patchworkgargoyle @sentient-trash @wormdebut @legitcookie @corrodedcoughin @steddieas-shegoes @wynnyfryd
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marvelouslizzie · 1 year
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unconventional methods - chapter 1
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Summary: Bucky Barnes has a big problem: he is too anxious to date and too old school to enjoy porn. But he needs some kind of relief, and he needs it right now.
After getting an accidental boner during a mission, Natasha suggests him an application that seems to be exactly what he needs.
Will your content solve the problem for him? Or will it create new problems?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (SHIELD Agent Bucky Barnes x Adult Content Creator Reader)
Word Count: 5.7K
Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, sex deprivation, adult content creation, sexy lingerie, sexy photos and videos, male masturbation, self-doubt, overthinking, flirting, sexting, sending explicit content to each other, pet names, mutual masturbation, jealousy, feeling possessive (nothing toxic), hiding the real identity, no mention of y/n.
A/N: This was such a random idea but as I started to think about it, more details came to me. After a point, it became impossible not to write.
In this story, Bunny is the reader but we view most of the story from Bucky’s side so there’s no use of you during the story. We don’t know what the reader is up to, how she feels about stuff. Only as much as Bucky knows or sees. That’s why the reader is mentioned as she mostly.
>> indicates incoming messages and << indicates outgoing messages in this story.
This story is not exactly how it seems but I don’t want to spoil it by revealing things too soon. Just stick around, if you wanna know how things will turn out to be.
Again, a big thank you to @notafunkiller for helping me every step of the way. She helped me the moment I felt stuck or something felt off, beta read the whole story and turned this into a readable piece. Thanking her won’t be enough. I would literally add her as a co-writer if that was possible on Tumblr.
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Every like, comment and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me or send me a question regarding the stories I write. I would love to talk about it and no, it would never bother me as long as it’s not a hate comment. They are never welcome.
Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.
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Bucky wasn’t sure if he should do this. He looked at the paper Natasha handed him and then back at the screen again. The internet browser was open for a while, but he couldn’t decide what to do. It felt weird to be in this position. It didn’t feel right… but why was it wrong again? She was sharing her own content: whatever she was comfortable with. They were all there for people to see if they wanted to, right? He took a deep breath, started to type the link Natasha wrote down for him, and pushed enter quickly before he changed his mind.
The page loaded quickly, but all he could see was her profile picture and the header. There was a huge subscribe button and under it, he could see how many posts she had, different subscription options, etc. He scrolled back up to look at her photos. They were not clickable, but her profile picture was her in blue lingerie and cute bunny ears, which made him smile for a second. Then he looked at the header. She was on all fours, staring directly into the camera. It was a different look. Not that “I’m trying to look sexy” look that usually turned him off when it came to porn. It felt genuine somehow. How genuine it could be under these circumstances…
He looked at her profile picture for a while, thinking what could go wrong? A lot of people were doing this, weren't they? Some people were making money, some were paying for it. It wasn't that different from buying a dirty magazine. No, actually this was better because she had all the creative control over her own content. She was the one putting it out there. If that was not consent, then what was? He quickly created an account for himself, using a new email account like Natasha suggested. He didn’t need anyone to find out about this.
The next part felt like falling into a rabbit hole because dear god… She looked gorgeous! She had some free content that didn’t show much. Different poses in different lingerie. The photos were serving their purpose, making you want to subscribe and see more… of her. So he kept looking for a while.
There was something about her that made her so much more attractive, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He clicked next, looking at her pic in front of the mirror, with her legs wide open, but not actually showing anything. The slight smile on her face was warm and inviting. He knew he had no other option than to subscribe and see all of her content. He needed to see more.
The process didn't take long. After unlocking the special content, he just stared at the screen. How can she be real? He palmed his face, feeling nervous like he was on a first date with this attractive woman. He knew he wasn't. She was way out of his league, but he still felt nervous and intrigued while checking out all the content. There were so many different options and he didn’t know where to start.
At first, he decided to go slow and just check a couple of nude photos. The pics were in order, showing her getting rid of one piece of clothing with each new shot. It started with her fully dressed, looking super sexy: short skirt, modest cleavage, looking all cute. First, the skirt was gone, then her top, and she was left standing in her pastel pink lingerie that covered her chest completely, but it was lacy and see-through. It was fitting her like it was custom-made. He couldn’t stop himself and kept swiping, finding different concepts. His cock was pressed against his pants, aching for attention as he was unable to look away.
After spending god knows how long on her profile, Bucky finally couldn’t take it anymore. This was the point of all this, wasn’t it? Creating the need at the right time to please himself, so he wouldn’t get random erections during the missions… He unzipped himself and finally freed his cock. Still, his hands didn’t go there directly. He kept looking at her profile, discovering other features: like videos she uploaded while getting off!
“Dear god…” He gulped after seeing the thumbnail. She had a dildo in her hand. There was no way he was not going to click on this. No way!
He watched her taking her sweet time, teasing herself and, of course, the viewers, then getting really wet and adding lube on top of it before she pushed the dildo inside. The moan she let out sent a powerful jolt through his whole body. It was so beautiful and felt so fucking authentic, nothing like those fake, unrealistic porn moans. They were always a huge turn-off. This, on the other hand, was too much to handle. His cock was dripping so much precum, begging him for some attention. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this turned on. Either it never happened or it was so long ago, it doesn’t matter anymore.
He finally reached for the lube, poured a generous amount into his flesh hand, and quickly grabbed his cock. 
“Fuck.” It felt so sensitive. Like he had been edged for the last hour. Maybe he had been… after all the content he went through.
His fingers were loose, moving up and down slowly while the most beautiful girl he ever laid eyes on was pleasing herself on the screen. He didn’t want this to end too soon. He wanted to take his sweet time and maybe imagine she was the one doing this to him. That was a nice image: her between his legs, looking up at him with those big eyes while she moved her hand up and down slowly, torturing him, not letting him come until she said so.
His breath shuttered at the thought, his fingers moving faster than before, like they have their own mind. His cock was grateful, but no, he didn’t want to come before the video was done. Somehow it felt like disappointing your date during your first sex.
Luckily, she started to shatter, moaning as she came on the dildo she was riding. And the noises she made immediately sent him over the edge. 
“F-f-fuck,” he slurred as he started to come. It felt good, really good. He lost himself in pleasure and kept stroking until he emptied himself. Until he felt that overstimulation creeping in. That was when he noticed he closed his eyes. When he opened them back up, the video was done and the black screen with a play again button welcomed him. 
Disappointment washed over him. She wasn't there with him. Even if he came before the video was done, she wouldn’t know. There was no one to disappoint. He was alone in his bedroom, jerking off to a computer screen, but in his defense, the girl was hot. Really hot.
He took a deep breath, letting himself enjoy the afterglow. That was the point of all this: enjoying small stuff like satisfaction without going through the tedious process of meeting new people. He reached for the wet wipes and cleaned himself quickly. As he clicked the exit button on the video, he saw another one. It must be old because she looked a bit younger, and her hair was a little lighter. Also, it looked like a short one so he clicked on it.
“Hey. Thank you so much for subscribing.” This was the first time he heard her voice. It was soft and calm. “I know this isn’t conventional, but I enjoy sharing content like this. Don’t judge me if you don’t wanna be judged, okay?” She winked and god, it was adorable. “I'll try to share new content every Wednesday. I hope to see you here. Feel free to message me if you like. Take care.”
If he hadn’t come thirty seconds ago, he would have gotten hard again after hearing her voice. He was glad even the super soldier serum had some limits. Before his body could recover from his intense orgasm, he closed the window and decided to go take a shower.
-------
The next week passed in a blur. There were missions, briefings, and someone’s birthday… He didn’t care whose. It was not someone from the main team, that was all he knew. He was eating his cake in the corner, minding his own business when Natasha sat next to him.
“Hey.” She tried to sound as casual as possible.
“Hey.”
“You look better.”
Bucky looked at her confused.
“Does that supposed to be a compliment, Romanoff?”
“It’s a simple statement, Barnes. It looks like you took my advice and gave yourself a break.” Bucky averted his gaze from her. “No accidental erections during missions, congrats.”
“It was one time, Natasha. One time. When will you let it go?”
“Whenever you tell me about your… experience.”
“My experience?” He looked back at her, with the same confused expression all over again.
“I wanna know if you liked her or not. I don’t need details.”
“Why do you care so much about it? She’s just a random girl.” He lied to her. She wasn’t. At least not to him. He had been checking her account anytime he got a chance. This whole week, he had been masturbating more than he ever did before. Sometimes even the thought of her was turning him on so randomly, he was starting to get worried, but at the same time, he couldn’t stop himself from checking for updates.
She was sharing content very regularly. Sometimes they were new photoshoots, and sometimes just random cute photos in pajamas. He didn’t know which content he was looking forward to the most. All he knew was he loved how genuine it felt she was.
“I’m just noisy. So tell me…”
“Yes, Natasha, I like her. She’s cute and hot, exactly what I was looking for. What do you want, a thank you?”
Bucky really had no idea how Natasha managed to hit the bull's eye when she suggested this girl to him. She was absolutely his type, so he could say thank you for this, but nothing more.
“I wouldn’t mind.”
“Thank you.” It was Natasha’s turn to feel confused because in all the time they spent together with Barnes, he never once thanked her. This was a first.
“Wow. You really like her.” She sounded proud of herself.
“Hey, Buck!” The moment Bucky heard Sam’s voice, he jumped off the couch. He didn’t want to spend another minute talking about his irrational crush with Natasha. It was pointless.
-------
As the time passed, Bucky felt like he was addicted to her content. He was checking his phone much more often than before, just to see if she shared something. He didn’t notice it until Sam pointed it out and asked if he got a girlfriend or something. He quickly denied that possibility, finding a lame excuse. He wasn’t sure if Sam bought it or not, but he definitely needed to check his phone less often. 
When he came back home, he felt so tired. The whole day was full of meetings and he let himself be consumed by the details just not to think about her. It was Wednesday, which meant new content,  yet he still tried to stay away from his phone. 
He literally consumed every content she ever shared. There was no photo or video on her profile he didn't see. There were some he masturbated to more than once. He just wanted to take a step back and if he could manage this, he would feel less of a creep. The problem was he was home and he had nothing to do.
He tried to distract himself with food at first, and it only worked for 15 minutes. Then he took a shower, which took even less. Watching television didn’t even last more than 5 minutes, so he decided to go to sleep, but his mind kept wandering to her. He wanted to know what she shared and how she looked. Finally, he gave in and opened her profile… to see nothing. Since yesterday she shared literally nothing. That was so unlike her. She shared something every day and she never missed Wednesdays. He didn’t care about the lack of new content. It worried him that he doesn’t know if she was alright. Why wouldn’t she be? Maybe she was busy. He tried to calm himself down but falling asleep was impossible.
Then he made a promise to himself: if she won't share anything by noon the next day, he would message her. That thought calmed him down a little.
-------
The next day, Bucky forgot that he was trying to avoid checking his phone in public. His body was at work, but his mind was stuck on… her. He kept looking at her profile to see something, anything to assure himself you’re alright, but there was literally nothing. Complete silence. When it was finally noon, he had no patience left. Normally, he wouldn’t even consider sending a message, but he was just worried. And it didn’t occur to him that it was not his place to be concerned about this woman. 
He opened her profile and clicked on the direct messages feature. His mind was completely blank. He had no idea what to say, looking at the screen for a couple of seconds as he trying to collect his thoughts.
“Hey.” That’s all he could come up with. How to say you are worried about someone who has no idea you even exist? It was ridiculous, but there was no way he could just wait and do nothing. “I’m sorry for bothering you. I hope you are alright. You have been absent lately. It could be something totally personal, I know that, but you never miss Wednesdays. So I wanted to check in to see if you are fine. I really hope you are.”
He took a deep breath after he pressed send. It was a long shot for sure. He didn’t really expect an answer. Maybe a seen. And that would be more than enough.
-------
An unfamiliar chime got Bucky’s attention. It surely came from his phone, but he never heard that sound before. When he took his phone out and saw the notification, his heart skipped a beat, just for a second. It was a message from her. The nervous feeling spread through his body like poison, sweat pooling on his forehead before he even clicked on it.
>> Hey, handsome. Thank you for checking in. I have been a bit busy and sick at the same time. Not the best combo. Sorry for missing the content day. I will make it up next Wednesday.
Bucky looked at the message, a bit confused. He wasn’t interested when the new content was gonna drop. He just wanted to know if she was okay. Being busy and sick at the same time didn’t look so. Content should have been the last thing she should be worried about.
<< I’m not worried about the content, darling. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.
He definitely didn’t expect her to respond this quickly, it didn’t even take a minute.
>> Really? I thought you’d miss me.
She was talking like she knew him personally. Like they have chatted before. It was weird and comforting at the same time.
<< I did miss seeing your cute little face, I’m not gonna lie, but I didn’t message you for that. Content can wait until you feel better.
>> My cute little face is a little bit unpresentable and I appreciate your concern. It’s refreshing to see someone actually cares how I am feeling instead of why I did not share anything lately.
<< I’m sure your cute little face is still the cutest thing on the face of the earth. I wouldn’t worry about being presentable.
>> Get ready for a jumpscare. 
He had no idea what that meant, but the text was followed by a selfie: her, in bed, looking rather exhausted, with a messy bun, cute pajamas, and a cup of tea in her hand. Bucky quickly googled what jumpscare means and came back to the messaging screen.
<< You clearly don’t know what jumpscare means. It would be me, in a dark hallway or an alley. That’s real jumpscare. This is a cute lady who needs a bit of time to recover.
>> First darling, now cute lady. Are you sure you aren’t 60 years old?
<< Why, do you have an age limit?
>> For my content? No. << And for other stuff?
>> The answer is still no, but are you?
<< 60? No. I’m 107.
>> How do you know how to use the app at 107? 
That question made Bucky laugh a little, but he chose to be honest.
<< If I don’t know something I just google it.
>> Shouldn't you be semi-dead at 107?
<< I should be fully dead yet I’m still here.
>> Your profile says 33. Why are you lying handsome?
<< Believe me, my body and soul are older than 33.
>> I kinda believe that because you are talking differently.
<< Is it why you are answering my messages?
>> That and I feel a bit lonely. Your message sounded cute. I usually end the conversation before it gets too far.
<< What’s too far for you?
>> When they start demanding private pictures or try to sext.
Bucky had to google once again what sext means, just to be sure, and it was exactly what he thought it would be.
<< But you sent them to me.
>> Just one picture. A sick selfie and you didn’t ask for it. I thought it would turn you off really badly and you would say take care and end the convo.
<< I still think you look cute.
>> I am starting to believe you might be cute as well.
-------
Bucky had no idea how things got this far with her. After that message, they were literally sending texting each other daily. Just checking in, asking random stuff, or getting to know each other. It was not the same every day. Sometimes it was just a couple of messages and dead silence. Sometimes they communicated all day, non-stop, but Bucky didn’t mind. He didn’t mind not talking to her every day. Knowing that she was okay gave him a bit of peace. Just a good morning or a good night message was enough to ease his anxiety. 
>> Good morning, handsome.
That was the text he woke up to, that made him smile almost all day. Every time he remembered her calling him handsome or taking time to send a message to him, it made him happy. It made him feel different than others. He knew that was not the case. Maybe she kept talking to him because he didn’t make her uncomfortable. Maybe she talked to others too. He had no idea, but whenever he thought about her messaging someone else, he felt a faint pain in his stomach. He knew this feeling was irrational, so he avoidedto think about it as much as possible.
<< Good morning, bunny.
<< Is your favorite color pink? He randomly asked as he had been doing all week. The question came to him because he noticed she wore that color a lot.
>> No, it’s light blue. Why?
<< You wear pink a lot, that’s why I asked.
>> That’s what they like. Most men still think blue is a manly color.
<< You look divine in blue. It’s their loss really.
Her answer was a picture of her in blue lingerie. It surprised him because that photo was not on her profile. He remembered seeing this set, but not this exact photo. He kept looking at the pic for much longer than he should have. Another message woke him up from his trance.
<< I take that as you like it.
>> This photo is not on your profile.
<< No, it’s not.
>> But you feel fine sending it to me.
<< You said I look divine in blue. 
>> You do. I’m just surprised you sent me a photo you didn’t share before. I’m glad you feel comfortable.
<< I’m pretty comfortable talking to you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t talk to someone whose name I don’t know.
>> I don’t know your name either, bunny.
<< You are a smart man. Most assume this is my real name.
>> Using your real name would be an unnecessary risk.
<< Is that why you don’t call me Viv?
>> Maybe. I wasn’t doing it on purpose. Why are you calling me handsome?
<< I don’t know, I never really thought about it.
>> Yeah, exactly. You don’t know what I look like but you are calling me handsome.
<< I would love to see what you look like, but I don’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable.
>> I’m sure what you are imagining is much better than the reality, bunny.
<< Why do you call me bunny?
>> Because of your profile photo. The bunny ears. You look really cute.
-------
Bucky was in the middle of debriefing. After a really long mission, he was finally back in New York. He wondered if Bunny messaged him. That was what he’d been calling her in his mind for a while and suddenly, he realized it might be too weird. Was he getting too creepy? Too comfortable? They didn’t even know each other properly. The last time they talked, she asked him why he didn’t use Viv. Maybe that was a signal for him to go for the fake name instead of his nickname.
“Barnes.” Fury’s voice brought him back to reality.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“I asked if you want to add anything else.” His voice was firm.
“No, no. Romanoff covered it well.”
“Good. Rest for a couple of days. We will be going back to finish what we started.”
When Bucky finally reached out for his phone, Natasha was smiling in the corner.
“Does he have a secret girlfriend?” Sam asked.
“Maybe. I have no idea.” She lied.
-------
>> Good morning, old man.
>> Busy day?
>> I got a funny story to tell you, but you aren’t around.
>> Please tell me I didn’t offend you with the nickname.
>> I am messaging you a lot, aren’t I? I should leave you alone.
>> I’m sorry…
Bucky’s heart was racing as he read the messages. He should’ve warned her about not being online for a while. Instead, she thought she did something wrong. He looked at the message screen, trying tocome up with a good response to assure her that he wasn’t offended. He was an old man after all. What was there to get offended?
<< Hey. I’m sorry. I was away for work. There was no signal. I did not see your messages before. 
<< Just know that you never bother me. You can message me as much as you want. Whenever you want and I will answer when I can.
<< And you know I should be the one to worry if I’m bothering you or creeping you out. Not you.
<< If you still wanna tell me that funny story, I’m here to listen, Viv.
Bucky wasn’t sure if she would reply. After all, she didn’t get a message from him for a while. Maybe he’d already lost his chance… But then his phone chimed.
>> Viv? Where did Bunny go?
>> 🐰
<< You want me to call you Bunny?
>> I got used to it.
<< Okay, Bunny. If that’s what you want.
This made him feel better. Maybe he was just overthinking. She didn’t seem to mind half of the things he was thinking about.
<< Should I get used to being called old man?
>> Does it bother you?
<< It doesn’t. I am an old man.
>> You are 33 if you didn’t lie while creating your profile.
<< Biologically, yes.
>> But you feel older, so you don’t mind.
>> I’m glad you are back.
<< I’m sorry that I didn’t warn you about work.
>> It’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.
That last message broke his heart. He knew she was right. He didn’t owe her anything, but that wasn’t the reason why he was explaining himself. He was doing it because he wanted to, and a small part of him wanted to owe her an explanation. He also wanted her to owe him an explanation. Yet he knew that wasn’t the case.
<< Is that how you feel?
>> Isn’t that how I should feel? I don’t know who you are. I don’t even know what you look like. I just know I like talking to you. If that’s the only thing you are willing to do, then it’s fine by me. I mean you could be married or engaged and I wouldn’t know. So it’s fine, you don’t have to explain yourself.
Bucky looked at the message for a while, digesting what she was saying. She was right. She had no information about who he was while he had access to her all of her content and now private messages. She was completely exposed, and he didn’t even share his name with her. Why would she trust him? Why would she owe him any explanation at all?
<< It’s James.
>> Nice to meet you, James 🐰
>> You have such a beautiful name. 
-------
After he shared his name with her, something changed between them. Something subtle, but it meant a lot to Bucky. It felt like she was more open, and more curious now. 
>> What are you wearing?
Bunny’s question caught him off guard. He looked at himself in panic. He was sitting on the floor, only with his boxers on, so there was no way he could tell her the truth.
<< Pajamas, you?
>> What kind of pajamas? I’m guessing old man pajamas but…I never saw an old man in old-school pajamas. Maybe you can show me.
Shit, shit, shit.
Lying to her was a huge mistake. He had no pajamas to put on. He only had a couple of pants, and henleys, and maybe three jackets. Natasha always made fun of him for wearing the same stuff over and over again. She was trying to hit a nerve so he would go buy something new, but it didn’t work, of course. Now, he wished it did.
He started to panic a little, looking around to find a solution. I could cover my body, a voice in his head said. And that’s what he did. He laid down, covered himself with his blanket, and took the picture. His face wasn’t in the frame, just the tip of his chin. Since he shaved this morning, his dimple was showing. He used his vibranium hand to take the selfie, and in this way, it looked like a normal photo.
It was too late when he noticed the fact that he laying on the floor, not in bed was visible. He cursed to himself while waiting for her answer. There was no way she wasn’t going to comment about the absence of the bed. No way.
>>  I am not seeing any pajamas or your body, old man. It is that bad?
Bucky took a breath of relief. Maybe she did not even notice. After all, she wanted to see him. Maybe she didn’t even pay attention to his surroundings.
Or maybe she just didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. That thought changed his mind. He literally saw every part of her body. Sending a picture back in his boxers shouldn’t be a big deal, right? He stood up and extended his vibranium arm. The new selfie was quite similar except this time he was showing a lot of skin. Starting from the tip of his chin, he showed his upper body only. He looked at the photo before sending it: upper body and black boxers. No bare legs and no face.
>> I see no pajamas. And this body doesn't belong to an old man at all. Are you lying to me, James?🤨
He might have made a mistake by sending this picture. There was no way he could prove to her this is actually him. Especially after all that old man talk. While he was thinking about what he’s gonna do next, he got another message.
>> Cat got your tongue?
<< A bunny did actually.
>> You look good, James. Really good, but you don’t seem excited.
Her response confused him. 
<< Excited?
>> Maybe you need a photo to get excited.
Before he could ask what that means, she sent him a pic of her. Definitely not professionally taken. It’s her in front of the mirror, wearing only shorts and covering her naked breasts with one of her hands while taking the picture with the other. 
>> Hope this helps.
>> But if you wanna see more, you gotta share more.
<< You're very beautiful, bunny, but I hope you know this was not my intention. I was waiting for you to tell me that funny story.
Her response was another photo: a close up on her covered breasts. She looked like she was about to drop her hand and reveal it like he did not see them before.
>> I know.
>> So does this mean you're not excited? I was trying something here…
>> I can tell you the story if that’s what you’d rather do.
“Fuck…” Bucky cursed out loud. He was really good at this before. Flirting and finding the best possible response were easy back in the 40s, but it didn’t feel like that anymore. He was constantly worried about doing something wrong or creeping her out. He wanted to hear the story, but he really wanted to see her breasts too.
<< What do I have to do to see more?
>> I’ve just told you. Share more to get more.
Oh, so she wanted more photos of him, and he literally had no idea how to take flattering pictures.
>> Maybe start by showing me if the photos worked or not.
He looked down at himself and saw his rock-hard cock. How is he supposed to show her? Maybe I should mimic her photos. He touched the outline of his dick, making it a little more visible before taking a picture.
<< Is it clear enough?
>> Oh, you got really excited, didn’t you Jamie?
>> Not an old man after all.
He loudly groaned when he saw what she called him. Jamie. God! He felt a jolt of arousal the moment he read the nickname. He was sure he got even a little harder if that’s possible. 
Before he could find an answer, Bunny sent him another photo. This time her palm was stretched on her breasts, fingers not hiding much anymore, but still, her tits weren’t completely visible. Yet he could see how erect her nipple was. He already had a lot of dirty thoughts: like taking her nipple into his mouth and torturing her before giving in. He just didn’t know if he should voice them or not.
<< Oh, that nipple…
>> What about it?
<< You wanna hear what I am thinking about?
>> Well, since I’m trying to tempt you here… What do you think?
<< Fuck, Bunny. You have no idea what you are doing to me.
>> I am dying to hear it though.
Instead of telling her, Bucky decided to show her. He tried to position himself in front of the camera and take a good photo of his erection. He tried a couple of different angles, but it was a dick after all. Nothing he tried seemed to make it seem more appealing in his view. When he finally sent the picture, he added a small text.
<< How about I show you instead?
>> Oh my god!
>> You were hiding that from me all this time?
>> Damn, I feel robbed.
<< Does this mean you like it, doll?
>> Oh, that’s new.
>> And I like it.
>> Maybe even better than Bunny.
>> And yes, I am actually drooling right now even with that horrible angle. 
<< Horrible angle? How should I do this then? I never...
>> Do you want me to teach you, old man? Because I can.
<< I’m always open to learning new stuff. That’s the only thing you can always rely on.
>> Ohh, I love that. Open-minded, doesn’t mind taking criticism, no fragile masculinity. All very hot. 
>> Try taking a picture in front of the mirror maybe. Don’t take the picture from above or too down. Try to use eye level if you aren’t particularly doing something. That works better.
Using a mirror wasn’t a good idea for him. He could imagine the photos looking better like that, but there was no way he could hide his metal arm.
So instead of positionin his camera above, he tried to level it down, showing his full length and thickness. A photo didn’t seem to work so he decided to record a short video of him playing with himself: his flesh hand going up and down slowly on his full length. He couldn’t help but let a low moan when his hand brushed against the head. Fuck, imagining her seeing this… The idea turned him on even more. He got so excited that he forgot to check the video before sending it.
>> Fuck, James.
>> Fuck fuck fuck.
>> Your voice is so fucking hot.
>> And you are so aroused. Is it all for me?
<< It’s all for you, doll.
<< This is what you do to me. All the time. 
<< God, I wish you were here.
Bunny or Doll, he had no idea which one suits her better, sent a video as the response: her fingers, two of them, going in and out inside her. She was going pretty fast, indicating she had been doing this for a while, and there was a faint moaning in the background, which Bucky couldn’t get enough of. He watched the video twice before answering.
>> You are gonna be the death of me.
>> Are those fingers enough? Do you want a third one or maybe you would rather have a big dildo inside?
<< I would rather have you inside me.
After this point, everything felt like a blur. Things got out of hand, they kept exchanging photos and videos until they both got pretty powerful orgasms. Yet James found himself wanting more. So much more than she probably wanted to offer.
>>> Next Chapter
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trans-girl-nausicaa · 1 month
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Gee I wonder how common private gun ownership was right before the Russian revolution? Oh wait it was actually common and civilians could easily buy firearms. Here’s a print ad from the time:
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Historically, many revolutions and civil wars involved the use of privately owned firearms. A really common pattern that you see going back hundreds of years is that at the outbreak of conflicts, civilians would form militias, arm themselves with whatever they could get their hands on, storm government armories, and then steal everything not nailed down.
During the Yugoslav civil war, the UN enacted an arms embargo on all sides of the war from Sept 1991 through the end of the war. The VRS split off from the JNA, so they just took those weapons with them. However, the ARBiH had to acquire weapons from a lot of different sources, such as:
Stolen from JNA barracks
Stolen from Yugoslav police
Taken out of museums (Yes, really. They were literally using vintage captured MG42s from WWII)
Handmade (!) (Yes, really. I saw handmade guns that were used in the war on display in a museum in Sarajevo)
Smuggled in by Pakistani Intelligence Services (Specifically anti-tank missiles)
Picture: A group of ARBiH soldiers at the Old Bridge in Mostar, June 1992. The man on the far right is carrying a Winchester Model 70 (captured from a Serb, who purchased it in Montana)
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Picture: Two ARBiH soldiers, the one on the right is carrying an MG42.
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Another conflict (or, more accurately, long series of conflicts) that we can also look to is the American Indian Wars. Native American combatants used a variety of weapons, but the weapons that they prized most highly were contemporary repeating rifles. Famously, repeating rifles such as the Henry lever-action rifle were contributing factors to the victory of Lakota and Cheyenne forces at the Battle of Little Bighorn in 1876. (Native Americans had been purchasing guns for hunting and combat for over a hundred years at that point. One of the earliest accounts of such a purchase was in 1750 where French traders traded flintlock muskets for horses from Wichitas and Comanches.)
Picture: The Apache military leader Geronimo, on right, accompanied by three younger warriors, 1886.
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Let’s take another, ongoing example: The Myanmar civil war (2021- present, as of April 2024).
Fighters in the coalition of anti-junta forces use a wide variety of small arms, but most relevant for this post is the manufacturing and use of the FGC-9, a 9mm carbine compatible with Glock magazines.
(Side note: FGC stands for Fuck Gun Control.)
The FGC-9 design uses a combination of 3D-printed parts and easily-manufactured pressure-bearing metal parts.
Picture: a People’s Defense Force soldier carrying an FGC-9.
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If you genuinely believe that there will be a revolution or civil war in your country in the future, then logically it is 100% reasonable to buy and train with guns right now.
If you genuinely believe that there will be a revolution or civil war in your country in the future, it makes absolutely no sense to hand-wave that away with “one day when the exact right circumstances emerge for a proletarian mass movement to Do Revolution, only then will we acquire even one single firearm. I’m just going to assume there won’t be massive obstacles such as arms embargoes, government crackdowns, or supply-chain issues that could completely stymie our ability to do that.”
If you genuinely believe that there will be a revolution or civil war in your country in the future wouldn’t it be better for the people on your side to already have some level of training & skill with firearms?
If you live in a country where the right wing has spent decades buying guns and salivating over the idea of starting a civil war and killing left-wingers and minorities, do you think it is a good idea to discourage left-wingers and minorities from buying guns?
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sansaorgana · 1 month
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Bucky x reader where they get reunited after he gets back home, Mabye a very sappy and fluff and him getting back into demestic like w his girl and Mabye she’s like a clothing maker or m clothing mender/ tailor and that’s how she stay afloat while he’s gone and had no idea she was able to create things like that.
hi, babe! 💕 this is my first Bucky request – I believe I have at least one more in my inbox – and as I have promised, I gave it a chance to write for him 😅 I hope it's good enough because it felt totally different to write for him than for Buck lol 😁
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Bucky was a never ending trouble in the best meaning of this word. He was loud, funny, playful, teasing and full of energy. Life with him was a rollercoaster you never wanted to get out of. When he went to Europe, it was as if he had taken all your sunshine and happiness with him.
The days were long and grey – boring. It was all about going to work and coming back home to listen to the radio and read all the letters you had received from your fiancé. That was for a few first months but then you found a hobby.
It had started with looking at the magazines and wanting those colourful dresses and skirts they had there but you couldn’t afford them. So you had bought a fabric and dug out your mother’s old sewing machine from the attic. Using her old books about making clothes on your own, you had managed to create your first floral skirt. Your very first rush of dopamine and colour after Bucky’s departure.
When your neighbours had noticed your skirts and dresses, they wanted them, too. It had quickly become your additional source of money, but most importantly – it was grounding you. You had spent endless nights listening to the radio and working on the fabrics, humming to yourself and trying to stay hopeful instead of constantly worrying about Bucky. You would go to sleep so tired that you couldn’t even stare at the ceiling and be anxious about his life. Sometimes it had been making you feel guilty that you were distracting yourself so much when he was a prisoner in some camp an ocean away from you… But you wanted to remain being yourself as much as you could. You didn’t want him to be greeted back home with the shadow of a woman he had once known.
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Seeing him again felt odd. For a short while you hesitated from running into his arms and just stared at him as if he was a ghost. It was Bucky who ran up to you and picked you up to spin you around with that wide grin of his. You cupped his cheeks and smiled back, leaning in to rub your noses together and then join your lips in a sweet kiss. His moustache tickled your face as you wrinkled your nose with a giggle.
“My sweet girl,” he greeted you. “Sorry for being late. They didn’t want to let me go,” he made a joke as usual.
“Oh, how I missed you, John,” you kissed him again and he put you down on the ground.
“I see you’re all dolled up for me,” he pointed out and your eyes sparkled at that comment. You liked it when he was giving you compliments like that, it was making you feel confident and seen.
“Well, I tried,” you smiled.
“Where did you get a dress like that?” He asked, looking you up and down in a manner that brought heat to your cheeks. You already knew what he was thinking about.
“I made it,” you shrugged your arms and walked inside the house. 
“What do you mean you made it? You can create such things with those pretty little hands?” He was visibly impressed.
“Yes, I can show you after dinner,” you nodded at him.
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After dinner, you brought all the dirty dishes to the kitchen and let them soak in the water before taking your apron off and joining Bucky in the living room. He was walking around and looking at the pictures of you two that you had on display.
“I liked to have you around,” you told him as you leant on the doorway. “A reminder that my boyfriend was not made up.”
“It feels so odd to be here,” he admitted and you smiled sadly at him. “Are you sure you want me to move in? I can rent a room in town.”
“I want you here with me,” you assured him.
“People will talk,” he pointed out. You knew that he didn’t worry about his reputation at all. But he worried about yours. You were always his first choice and his most important person. Alongside his best friend Buck.
“To the hell with them,” you rolled your eyes and he chuckled before approaching you and placing kisses all over your face.
“That’s the spirit. That’s my girl,” he teased. “I’m gonna marry you soon anyway and fill this house with a bunch of little babies. Daughters as beautiful and sons as smart as their mother,” he booped you on the nose.
“Girls can be smart, too,” you reminded him. “And boys can be beautiful,” you caressed his cheek.
“Yes, yes, of course… Now, show me the dresses?”
You nodded with a smile and held his hand to lead him upstairs.
“It’s not only dresses, you know… Skirts, too. A few blouses. I dug out my mum’s old sewing machine and started to make them. Half of the street wears them now. I earned quite a lot,” you admitted and Bucky whistled in admiration.
You opened the door to your bedroom. The sewing machine was standing by the window where the vanity table had once been. And on the chair next to it there were many colourful fabrics.
“Will you make something for me, too?” Bucky touched the fabrics delicately with his fingertips.
“I can surely try,” you chuckled. “But I will have to buy a new fabric.”
“No, no, look,” he pointed at the material with flowers, “a shirt like this,” he said and you laughed. “I’m being serious,” he winked at you. “I’d wear that. And I’d proudly say my wife made it when people asked or laughed.”
“Well, alright then, I’ll make you one like this but if you don’t wear it, I will never make anything else for you ever again,” you stuck your tongue out.
“Fine,” he stuck out his, too and you both laughed.
Bucky turned his back on you to keep admiring the fabrics and the neatly folded dresses and skirts inside your half-open wardrobe and you bit on your lower lip, trying not to make a sound as you felt the tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t want to alarm him and to worry him, so you tried to hide your emotional reaction but eventually, you let out a sob and hid your face in your hands.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Bucky turned around and approached you quickly to put his arms around you. You shook your head, refusing to speak. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”
“It’s just… It’s just… I’m so happy you’re back and I can joke around with you again and…” you looked up into his worried eyes. “And making these clothes… It was everything keeping me alive when you were away. It was the only thing that helped me to stay sane. And now… Now you’re back, you’re really back and I can’t believe how happy I am… All that tension is just… gone,” you sniffed your tears back.
“Hey, baby,” Bucky wiped your tears off of your cheeks gently. “You should have known I wouldn’t let them kill me, right? And that I’d come back to you. I was planning to escape every day, hell, I would have escaped a hundred times but Buck was stopping me from doing something stupid. And I am grateful because in the end I am here with you. I just wish I could have been calling you from there to hear your sweet voice, to let you know I was okay. I hated to think how worried you had to be, little one,” he cupped your face and pulled you closer. You hugged him and rested your head on his chest. Bucky kissed your forehead and rubbed your back.
“I want to show you something else,” you whispered after a while and he nodded silently, still looking at you with worried eyes.
You approached the wardrobe and stood on a stool. Bucky followed you and stood behind you to make sure to catch you if you would fall down. You reached out to the top shelf and brought down a box. You put it on the bed and opened it, shyly looking at your fiancé.
He looked inside and widened his eyes at the sight of a collection of baby clothes.
“I made them for the future,” you told him quietly. “For our babies,” you added. “And I decided that if you don’t come back… I’d have them burnt. Even if I married someone else and had children with him, they wouldn’t be our babies. So, yeah… I was making them some nights, smiling to myself, hoping that some higher power sees that and thinks that now they just have to spare you,” you confessed.
“They’re beautiful,” Bucky picked up one of them and smiled widely. “I think they are my favourite creations of yours,” he admitted and you laughed through the tears.
“Thank you.”
Bucky put the clothes back into the box carefully and then he moved the box away to remove it from the bed completely.
“We should get to work then,” he winked at you and you furrowed your brows at those words but after a while you realised what he had meant.
“Oh, no, no, no, don’t you dare, Major Egan!” You giggled. “People will talk enough already about the two of us! For that we will wait until the wedding.”
“Let’s get married tomorrow then,” he grinned at you.
“You can’t be serious,” you sighed.
“Why not?”
“Because… I won’t be able to make a wedding dress overnight. In three days,” you reached your hand out with a playful smile.
“Three days, let that be. A man can wait,” he shook your hand as if you just had made a business deal and then he pulled you back into his arms again.
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MASTERLIST
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nsharks · 1 year
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bleeding blue | apocalypse au
part seven —other parts
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pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. reader menstruates. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: some chill stuff before more angst ya know
The next morning, it is your turn to slip a treat into Blue’s hand.
You can tell by her expression that the Twix bar is like gold to her. Her teeth sink in. She stifles a moan. She hisses a swear you haven’t heard yet— Fucking noodles.
It reminds you of the time Paul found a Cadbury egg for Joseph. You smile as you watch, the kind where your teeth manage to poke through and your cheeks have to do some stretching. Ghost is chopping wood somewhere on the other side of camp, but still, you decided to close the shed’s door. 
Last night, you were too worn to stay in the cabin for long. You left just after Ghost shucked on some large helmet with two strange eyepieces attached to it. To see in the dark, Blue explained in a whisper. Of course he would have that. When you asked him where he was going, he’d mumbled under his breath, Gonna make sure you didn’t have any bloody followers. You hadn’t even thought of that. He must not have thought of it until you actually showed up, either. He expected you not to make it.
You don’t know how long he was out there, but by the fact that you’d woken up to his axe chopping wood instead of heads, you figured the territory was clear.
“Better than Nutella?” you ask Blue.
Grey light streaks through the shed and over her face. The smell of potential rain looms in the air.
“That’s a tough question,” she says, licking the residue from her lips. She’s eaten half. She folds the wrapper over to cover the rest and hands it to you. Sweets like these are rare. You told her you’d keep it in your bag until she wanted the rest.
“I think it’s a strong tie,” she decides and then groans, moving her chin to the dip of her folded knees. “I wish chocolate could be hunted.”
“Me, too.”
“Are you sure you don’t want the rest?” She sounds guilty. “It is your Twix.”
“No, really. It’s a thank you.” Your knee gives a nudge to hers. “As if you haven’t given me food that is yours before.”
The guilt turns into a smile.
“You know,” she then says, eyes flicking to your pillowcase bag of looted goods. “When I was looking at your clothes last night, I got an idea of how you could fix them. Can I—” she tilts her head, “Can I show you something?”
She leaves Grim with you as she departs to collect whatever it is she has to share. It turns out to be a magazine of all things. She clutches it to her chest, rolling her lips together before turning it around to show you. The bright ink is faded a little. The corners bent and worn. The date of the issue reads March 2018. There is a woman on the front - some model you can’t remember the name of - clad in a tight blue dress.
The sight is just as weird as the abandoned streets and homes. For a moment, you look down at the skin of your hands, abraded from your bowstring, and press your lips.
“Remember how I told you Ghost and I went to a military base once?” Looking back up, you nod. “Well, we were mainly there to get ammo but we also went through the barracks— that’s where they slept.”
She explains it as if you have no clue, which you don’t. Never in your life did you care about the military, except for that first day when you hoped they might come to find you in some big tanks or something. They didn't.
Blue giggles. “I found this in one of the men’s old dorms.”
When she sees your expression, she says, “It’s okay. I’m not stupid. Ghost told me his old teammates liked to look at pictures of pretty women sometimes when they got bored. Anyway, I’ve looked through it so many times. I like all the fancy clothes people used to wear.”
She begins to flip through the pages and points out a few things. Where before you sometimes zoned out, your mind distracted by survival, this time you listen fully. One page has an ad with lush grass in the background and she informs you that the shade of green is her favorite color.
“Not blue?”
“That is my name, not my favorite color." Her nose scrunches. "What is yours?”
Do you even have one? You think for a moment. What comes to mind are the flowers your mother used to grow at the house in Norbury.
“Violet,” you softly say. “Like the flowers.”
“Huh?”
“They are like… a bluish purple.”
“Oh! There are some flowers like that by the pond sometimes. Hopefully, they come back this year."
Another page she points to has people laying on a white beach with crystal-like water. Blue says she hopes to go there someday. Not to just any beach. That beach.
When she passes an ad with a young man’s face on it - someone about your own age - she pauses for a moment and looks up.
"Do you think he is cute?" she asks. A tender curiosity.
"Um," you can't remember the last time you saw a man's face besides Paul. Ghost is always covered. She holds the page up so you can see it better. A sharp jaw. Dark hair and a strong nose.
"Yeah, he is very cute. Do you think so?"
She nods and bites her lip. "Did you… have a husband before shit happened?"
"What?" You frown. "I'm not that old."
"A boyfriend, then?"
"I had," you search the memories. They feel unimportant. Buried. "I had a few people who I enjoyed spending time with in uni."
"Like sex?"
You almost choke. "What?"
"I am not stupid," she says again. "The rabbits. They do it all the time. Ghost told me that's how they have their babies, and that is how him and my mum had me."
Oh. This is the first time Blue has ever mentioned her mother and you don't know why, but it makes your stomach tight. But she doesn't add anything else about her, as if she'd just told you the sky is blue or Grim is her friend. Something so casual. Brushed aside. As if, she hadn't mentioned it at all.
You don't pry about it.
Not to a kid. Trauma, grief— you can only imagine what a young brain has decided to do with them. But for a moment, your brain tries to imagine what kind of woman it could have been, what kind of woman Ghost enjoyed spending his time with. The only thing you can picture is Blue's eyes. She clearly didn't get them from him.
Blue moves on from the picture of the man. The page she really meant to show you is of a woman wearing jeans with a belt around them. She points to it and explains you could try something like that for the jeans you found.
Right. Jeans. Along with the blouse you grabbed, you got an ugly pink sweater and some jeans that won’t fit you.
"That’s called a belt," you say. “I don’t have one.”
“I have an old shoelace,” Blue says. “How about that?”
“That could work.”
Blue tells you bluntly that you need to bathe first. You smell like those fucks, no offense. You take your new clothes and she finds you a rag. In the bathroom, you harshly scrub your skin to erase the smell of rot. You wash your hair which is slick with sweat.
On your wrist, you notice a light bruise growing where that Grey had grabbed you. Luckily, you were too tired last night for your brain to conjure up any nightmares, otherwise, you probably would've had one about it biting you. Even a bite to just your hand - to a finger - would be enough for the virus to enter the bloodstream. You don’t want to admit it, but with that revolver, Ghost saved your life again. 
After bathing, you slip on the blouse and a pair of too-big jeans. Blue gives you the shoelace. You feed it through the belt loops. It works well enough. The pantlegs fall past your ankles so you roll them. You tuck the large blouse so the excess fabric won’t get in the way while you hunt. The sweater… you don’t bother with it for now. It’s not warm enough. You will stick with Paul’s old coat when you go outside. 
You look in the mirror again.
You stroke your own cheek, looking yourself over. You smooth your hands over the clothes. Underneath, you feel the plush of your breasts. The muscles of your stomach. The curves of your ribs. You are almost back to your normal weight, but it is still evening out. Under your eyes, the skin remains grey. Floorboards and stress will do that to a person.
"Let me see," Blue says on the other side of the door before you open it. You can still hear Ghost chopping wood outside.
“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.” She touches the sleeves. “These are pretty long. They will get in the way when you shoot arrows, right?”
You nod. “Can you bring me the scissors?”
After you cut the sleeves down to your wrists, Blue picks up the scraps of fabric. “Hey, you could tie your braids with these. Like ribbons.”
"I could," you shrug and give a smile. "But I think they would look nicer on you."
The shyness returns as she nods. Gently, you guide her in front of the mirror and begin working your fingers through her hair, just as you do most evenings.
You notice her staring in the mirror with studious eyes as if she is trying to understand exactly what she sees. You wonder if she ever compares herself to those girls in the magazine. An eleven-year-old you certainly used to.
"You look very pretty, Blue."
"It doesn't matter if I do," she shrugs. "It's not like anyone will ever actually get to see me."
"Well," you swallow, "I get to see you right now, and I think you are pretty."
"Thanks.” She accepts the compliment with a puckered expression, before it softens and she adds, "I think you are, too, Twix.”
Twix?
But before you can question it, you hear the front door shut and realize that the sound of chopping wood has been gone for at least a minute. It is clearly Ghost entering the cabin.
You drop your hands before you can finish the braids, stepping back. 
He calls out her name.
Recalling the rifle he pointed at you yesterday, you whisper to Blue, "Maybe you should go out before he—“
But of course, his heavy boots approach. The dark shadow of him materializes in the bathroom's doorway, consuming the space with his head dipped down to fit.
You turn around to face her father at the same time Blue does. His brows are drawn low and in one hand he carries the axe. You notice a sheen of sweat at the bridge of his nose where his mask begins.
The thing is, you try to avoid being spotted alone with Blue like this. She talks to you in your shed. You interact when he is busy with things.
Ghost reaches for Blue’s hand. He gently tugs her to him. He cups the back of her head and bends down to meet her level, though he is still much taller.
"Remember what we talked 'bout?”
What did they talk about?
"I remember," she mumbles. She tugs her arm away. "I was just helping her with her new clothes.” Smoothly, she changes the topic. “What do you think? The shoelace was my idea."
Blue. You almost groan, feeling his dark eyes slowly shift over to you. You think you would rather him press the axe to your throat than share his opinion about your clothes— they aren’t exactly like what the models in Blue’s magazine wore. His stare rarely does anything other than burn holes through your skin, so it is no surprise when you feel the heat through your blouse, up your neck, and all the way to your cheeks.
You look down at your feet.
Then, a bitter memory comes to mind.
You look like you're one 'em already.
That is what Ghost said once.
For a brief moment, you wonder if he still thinks it.
He doesn’t give an answer. All he does is clear his throat. Your strange curiosity fades as he stands and looks down at his daughter. 
"C'mon, kid. Start the fire with me."
"No, not yet. She needs to finish my hair, Ghost."
He allows it, but remains in the doorway, watching as you finish her braids, using the fabric as floral bows to tie them off. 
It looks nice.
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It rains just like you thought it would.
Not too heavy, but enough to cut your hunt short for the day, earning you only one squirrel.
When you return to camp, you find Blue crouched over the wood planter as she covers the sodden soil with a layer of mulch. Apparently, Ghost had her plant some cabbage seeds before the rain. The mulch is to stop the seeds from washing away, she explains.
Spring will soon arrive. With it, some crops to add to their meals. Good for them. Maybe you can convince Ghost to lend you a seed or two to plant for yourself. 
After dinner, you sit by the fireplace with your boots off in order to warm your toes. The soft drum of rain against the cabin's walls lulls you into a trance as you listen to Ghost quietly read to Blue. Sometimes he points to words for her to try.
Tonight it is a book you recognize.
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.
Your father read it to you once. A younger version of yourself told him it was too boring. But now you find yourself quite liking the story about a magic wardrobe where kids can escape to another world.
Blue falls asleep on the couch. Ghost carries her to bed like usual. It is your time to leave. The rain has died down some but you already know the water has probably leaked into your shed. Lovely. 
But again you are stopped by a hand around your arm. 
You turn to see Ghost. He clutches the map in the other hand.
“Um. What is it?”
You slip your arm away, his grip allowing it. Is he mad about you hanging out with Blue? Did he discover your secret exchanges? Is he going to finally kick you out since you didn't die like he probably hoped?
“Sit with me.”
You raise your eyebrows. He motions for you to follow him to the table so you sit down, hands in your lap, and pick at the skin of your knuckles. He spreads the map open. He also has a pencil in his hand. Between gloved fingers, he fiddles with it before sliding it over to you.
To your surprise, he demands, “Show me where you went.”
Although confused, you abide, making a small mark over the village. Ribchester. 
His eyes narrow. “Not jus’ that. Show me which way you went.”
“This way,” you say, annoyed by his tone. Faintly, you draw a line through the forest all the way to the highway. “Then I followed the road.”
He takes the pencil from you and slides the map back in front of him, sweeping his eyes over the marks you’ve made. Under the black fabric, you detect the contour of his lips pressed into a straight line.
“How many were there?”
“Not many, really,” you admit. “Do you… Are you wanting to go there?” 
You furrow your brows as you recall what Blue said. They don't make trips often. It is not like Ghost has much need to. 
“No.” Not looking at you, he draws a mark some kilometers south of the one you made. “I want to go here.”
“Why?”
“I need ammo.” 
His voice is clinical and gruff. You definitely prefer it over threatening. As he continues, it officially becomes the most words he has ever spoken to you. 
“Went to a base over here two years ago.” He points a gloved digit to a spot on the east side of the forest. That must be the trip that Blue was talking about. “Wasn’t much left. Took what I could.”
“You’re all out of ammo, then?” 
He gives you a flat look. “No. But I’m runnin’ low. I don’t want to wait until I am all out to go. Need some ammo to make it there, don’t I?”
“Why haven’t you gone sooner?” you pry slowly. “Why do you want to go now?”
“Got a bit more to lose than you do.” 
It is a harsh truth, inviting a sharp breath through your lungs. What he means is he has someone he loves, unlike you. Someone he can’t just leave behind on her own.
You realize that Ghost probably avoids leaving this haven he has set up for that very reason, and maybe it is also why he is particularly conservative about their supplies. Whenever they end up running low, he has to drag her along with him to get more. The threats out there can be hard to predict. You’d been lucky. 
Ghost continues.
“But if you could make it through here,” he gestures back to the marks you made. The route can act as a way to the military base, but he would still have to go further, maybe 10 kilometers past the village. “Then I can make it that way with her.”
You nod slowly as you begin to wonder why he is telling you this. But then, it sinks in, a pit settling in your stomach. If they leave, where are you supposed to go? 
Ghost must read the expression that takes over your face. You don't wear a mask.
“You’re comin’ with us.”
“What?” You stand up, shaking your head as you hiss through your teeth. “No. I don’t want to. I just fucking got back.”
“You’re not staying here on your own,” he growls quietly. “I’m not askin’ whether you want to go or not.”
You catch his eyes. Black glass reflects the dim glow of the fire.
Of course.
He doesn’t trust you enough to stay here.
You have no choice.
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jobean12-blog · 9 months
Text
Wood You Be Mine?
Pairing: Lumberjack!Joel Miller x reader
Word Count: 2,667
Summary: Your work and Grandmother bring you away from the city and into the mountains and you find more than just some peace and quiet.
Author's Note: I'm really enjoying these AU's with Joel! Been fun to explore and he wears enough flannels LOL Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: it's fun and flirty and reader is sassy and Joel is grumpy and it's fluffy and soft too!
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Joel Miller Masterlist
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After several miles of driving along a bumpy dirt road, the cabin appears. A puffing chimney tops a two-story log house, and red checkerboard curtains line the windows. You park your car in front of the porch. The only other vehicle you see on the property is an old blue pickup truck.
When you step out of the car, a rhythmic pounding echoes from the backyard, somehow in tune with the abundance of sounds from the surrounding woods.
You sneak around the side of the porch hoping to catch a glimpse of your newest client. He’d reluctantly agreed to have his cabin featured in your magazine but only because the story was about eco friendly homes built by their owners.
You round the corner of the house and stop dead in your tracks. You had no idea what the man looked like from the front, but from the back…well you liked what you saw.
His strong arms raise an axe high above his head, then crush it down on a log propped on another stump. The corded muscles of his forearms flex with every movement and his biceps are barely contained by the rolled-up sleeves of his flannel.
Faded and worn blue jeans hug his ass and thick thighs and a pair of scuffed up work boots complete the ensemble. A real-life lumberjack.
He stops momentarily, leaning over to grab a rag, and wipes the handle of the axe. He swings the axe again, splitting the log in front of him, and the two half pieces tumble to the ground.
Whatever noise of appreciation comes out of your mouth was not meant for his ears but suddenly, his head whips around and he levels you with an aggravated glare.
He drops the axe to the ground and stalks over to where you stand, his dark brown eyes narrowed and his soft lips tight with his gritted teeth.
“Can I help you with somethin’? Since you’re trespassin’?” he rumbles.
His eyes rake over you and he glances toward the sky.
“From the city?”
You bristle. “Yeah, and what’s it to ya?”
He snorts. “Those boots look real practical darlin.’ I’m sure they’ll come in handy for the next snow storm.”
You look down at your heeled feet. “We plow snow in the city. Super convenient. You know since people like to get a life. Do things. Instead of hiding away in the mountains.”
He raises a bushy eyebrow. “Uh huh. Well, good for you. Any reason why you’re interrupting me.”
“Just here to take the pictures for Mountain Living magazine.”
You rummage through your bag and pull out some papers, passing them his way. You can’t help but notice how his hands dwarf them.
“So you’re the photographer.”
“Yep,” you answer, popping the p and giving him your name.
“Joel Miller,” he grunts and stands to his full height, crossing his thick arms over his broad chest.
You smile brightly and bat your lashes.
He scowls.
“Let’s go inside so you can take your pictures. And then you can get back to your fancy city life.”
You follow him inside, careful to avoid the mud puddles. A loud, keening screech shatters the silence and you yelp in surprise. You slide in your boots and bump into Joel, grabbing his thick bicep for safety.
A huge bird swoops by and lands on a nearby tree branch, ruffling it’s feathers and eyeballing you. Your fingers flex on his muscle and you gasp.
“What is that? It looks like a dinosaur! Is it going to eat us?”
“It’s just a hawk darlin’,” he answers with a shake of his head. “Shit, don’t they have any birds in the city?”
“I mean sure,” you begin, “but they are small and hop around a lot.”
He stares at you, unmoving. “Well, you’re not in any danger. Unless it decides to take a shit on your head.”
He says it without cracking a smile.
“Aren’t you hilarious,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes.
“Why exactly are you up here in the wilderness?” he asks. “You don’t seem too excited about it.”
“Other than work…I’m visiting my grandmother. She lives up here and I’m staying with her for the next month. Getting some fresh air and all that.”
“Just as you step up onto the porch you hear a whining noise. A fluffy yellow lab ambles over and sits on your boot, wagging it’s tail and looking up at you with big brown eyes.
“Who’s this?” you ask as you lean down to pet the dog.
“That’s Winston.”
“He’s a lab right?”
“Yep.”
You cough to hide your laugh. “He’s very cute but I thought it was mandatory for all people living here to have some huge breed like a Pyrenees or Saint Bernard.”
“Does your grandmother have some giant dog?” he asks.
“Two Swiss Mountain dogs actually. Bert and Ernie.”
He surprises you with a huge smile. His whole face lit up, his eyes even crinkling at the corners.
“Nice names. I like your grandmother.”
“She’s the best. Even if she worries too much about me. She wants me to move out of the city and come up here for the cleaner air!”
He opens the front door and ushers you inside. “She has a point. It’s much healthier here.”
“And boring-er.”
The door bangs shut behind him.
“That’s not a word.”
“It should be. At least up here.”
He doesn’t look amused and instead walks over to small desk in the corner and shuffles some papers.
You take a look around and blink in surprise. It’s gorgeous. The granite fireplace is surrounded by hand-made wooden furniture and the high ceilings and large windows create a rustic and beautiful scene.
“You look shocked,” he chuckles from behind you.
“Oh,” you startle. “It’s just…it’s so beautiful. How did you do all this?”
He smiles again. “It took a lot of time and sawdust.”
You walk around, running your fingertips over the curves of the furniture and firing off the names of all the different woods it’s made of.
“How do you know so much about that?”
“I’ve taken enough pictures of furniture and asked enough questions to know most types of wood,” you explain.
“Well, now, isn’t that funny. City girls knows all about timber but is scared of the outdoors.”
“I never said that!” you grumble.
“I could see it all over your face when the hawk flew by! You look around like somethin’s gonna jump out and eat ya!”
You narrow your eyes and step closer to him. “That’s just not true. I’m not scared of the woods…I’m simply afraid of…of…certain large mammals that might enjoy life in the woods…you know rubbing up against trees, eating berries and honey and maybe an occasional human!”
“What in the world…?” Joel smirks.
“I’m afraid of bears!” you say as you sit on his couch and slump back.
He tries to stifle a laugh. “I’m guessin’ there’s a story hiding somewhere darlin’.”
“I’m guessing my grandmother is expecting me for dinner. I better get started on the pictures so I’m not late.”
You shuffle with your camera equipment until you’re satisfied then start snapping shots. You’re in the zone and hardly feel Joel’s eyes on you as you work. When you’re done you pack up and hold out your hand to him.
“It was nice to meet you Joel.”
Your hand is engulfed by warm, rough skin and so much strength. You peer up into his face and expect a snarky smile but instead you gasp softly at the winded look you find. He blinks slowly and he tightens his grip before tugging on your hand.
Your boots slide across the hard wood floor until your inches away from him and his gaze drops to your mouth.
Your knees buckle when Winston slams against your legs and wiggles his body between the two of you.
Joel sighs. “Damn dog.” But he leans down and affectionately rubs behind his ears.
Winston sits on your feet and presses his body weight against you, relishing the ear rubs.
“Winston,” you coo as you join in.
“Sorry about him. He’s a big fan of affection.”
You clear your throat. “Isn’t everyone?”
His eyes level with yours and you get caught in his gaze, a warmth spreading along your skin.
“I better get going. I’ll be sure to e-mail you the proofs of the pictures so you can be part of the selecting process.”
You fly out of the house and into the car, tearing down the dirt road then peeking in your rear-view mirror to see Joel standing out on his porch.
“I need a drink,” you mumble before turning toward the small town.
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Joel runs a hand through his already disheveled hair after he pulls into the parking lot of the general store in town.
He knows a hot cup of coffee will help and one of those muffins that the owner’s wife bakes.
The general store has it all…coffee, muffins, dog biscuits, a new axe…and you.
There you are, smack dab in the middle of the aisle stocked with wine. You grab a bottle and round the corner toward the register.
The owner, Mark, chats you up as you check out.
“Celebrating something tonight miss?” Mark asks.
“Actually no, just visiting with my grandma but I needed a drink,” you explain to Mark.
“Not sure that’s somethin’ your grandma should be drinkin’.”
At the sound of that familiar deep voice you grit your teeth and turn to face him.
The look of indignation on your face almost makes Joel laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching with his suppression.
“Grandma loves her wine Mr. Miller. And she’s old enough to enjoy it!”
Joel can’t hold back any longer and lets out a bark of laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
He steps closer and gives you a once-over before taking a sip of his coffee and raising an eyebrow.
You want to stomp your feet. “I’m surprised you even have wine in this town!”
“It’s not the middle of nowhere. We have electricity, indoor plumbing and the internet! It’s all very modern.”
“Oh yeah sure it is,” you tease. “That explains the jars of penny candy then! And if that’s what you call coffee…well…”
You look to Mark standing at the cash register, “no offense Mark.”
“None taken,” the old man says kindly, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Thank you Mark. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go enjoy this with my grandmother!”
You grab your bag of wine and march out the door, this time feeling the heat of Joel’s stare at your back.
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“Is there anywhere else you want to go before we head back Grandma?”
She smiles and asks you to take her to the general store to visit Mark and get some coffee, telling you it’s been ages since she’s been in to see him.
“Sure Grandma. I’d get coffee too but I think I’ll pass…”
Your Grandma chuckles and pats your knee, still smiling.
As you walk around the store and listen to your Grandma talking with Mark you can’t help it as your thoughts wander back to Joel and the undeniable heat you feel whenever you’re near him. When you make it to the register your Grandma and Mark are talking in hushed voices, glancing your way and looking suspicious as you get closer.
“What’s going on?”
Your Grandma looks at you knowingly. “Mark here was just telling me that you took the pictures of Joel’s cabin for your magazine.”
Your eyebrows come together. “But how did he know that?”
“Joel told me,” Mark explains. “Said you took fantastic pictures. Really captured the heart and soul of his place.”
You smile at that and your Grandma’s face brightens.
“He’s a good man. A bit gruff, but good. Better than most actually.”
You look at your Grandma, letting her words sink in as you become more confused. “You know Joel?”
“Everyone knows everyone ‘round here baby,” your Grandma says. “And when I tell you Joel’s one of the good ones you best believe it.”
“Why should it matter to me?” you ask as realization dawns on you.
Your Grandma and Mark share an entertained expression.
“OH NO!” you say, far too loudly. “No way! There is no way in hell I’m getting involved with a big, cranky, grumpy, Lab-owning, house building, bearded lumberjack who lives in the middle of nowhere!”
Both your Grandma and Mark smirk and glance over your shoulder.
“Hi Joel,” Mark says. Good to see you again.”
You narrow your eyes at Mark. “Funny. You expect me to believe that he’s standing behind me?” Just how naïve do you think I am!”
A low rumble in your ear raises every hair on your body.
You turn until Joel’s face comes into view, his beard, complete with patches of gray, only inches from your lips.
“For the record, I’m only grumpy when people trespass on my property.”
He smiles and places some dog biscuits down on the counter before walking off down another aisle.
Your Grandma cackles. “Oh he definitely likes you.”
Mark nods enthusiastically in agreement before you look between them both and stomp off in a different direction.
Unfortunately that direction takes you smack into the hard chest of your grumpy lumberjack.
“Oof,” you mutter, closing your eyes when his strong hands close around your waist.
“You ok darlin’? You were comin’ round that corner so fast I didn’t have time to move. Sorry.”
“I’m fine,” you whisper, slowly opening your eyes until your vision is filled with the soft brown color of his.
“And by the way,” he continues. “I might be slightly grumpy, a lab-owner and a builder but I ain’t no lumberjack.”
“Really,” you muse, still standing close enough that you can feel his chest brush yours with his inhale. “Let’s see,” you point at his flannel shirt. “Plaid shirt. Check! Axe? Saw you use one of those! Check! Beard,” and you glance at his chin, your fingers slowly lifting until your brush them over his cheek.
“Check.” The last one comes out breathy and light.
Joel chuckles, dipping his head until his warm breath fans your cheek and his lips brush the shell of your ear.
“What do you say to lettin’ me take ya out for a bite to eat? There’s a local dive that makes decent food and I think they even have wine.”
You pause, trying to steady your shallow breathing.
“Well, I guess that might be okay. Considering there’s wine…and Grandma says the college boys are really cute here in town.”
Joel frowns. “College boys? I don’t think college boys would know how to satisfy a sophisticated city woman like you.”
He strokes his callused fingers over your soft jaw. “I think you might need a real man for the job.”
You still beneath his touch, then let out a slow breath.
“What makes you think I’m looking for a real man? Maybe I’ve sworn off all men for a while.”
“I don’t think you have any idea what a real man can do for you darlin’.”
Your eyes linger on his mouth and he clears his throat, but his voice still comes out gravelly and strained.
“Lumberjack men don’t fool around. What you see is what you get. And when we see what we want…”
He stares at your lips, pouting and inviting. “We take it.”
Your lips part on a breathy gasp before you recover and sass him with, “but you said it yourself, you’re no lumberjack.”
He just smiles and waits, softly tracing the outline of your jaw.
You run your tongue over your lips and stare at him.
“Okay. You can take me out.”
He grabs your hand and turns on his heel, pulling you right past the register and out the door.
(Don’t worry, Grandma got a ride home and is safe and sound- neither Joel nor our reader would never leave her hanging).
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@pedritosdarling @lorilane33 @hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @justkinsey @littleseasiren @laineyreads @beccablogsthings @kmc1989 @hallecarey1
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secondhand-snow · 3 months
Text
a body of impulses
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lukas matsson x f!roy!reader (succession)
★chapter 2★
wc: 7.5k+
warnings: toxic family dynamics, drinking, very mild violence, smut, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, corruption kink (if you squint), oral sex (f! recieving), fingering (f!recieving), handjobs, cum eating, spit, clothed sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), biting, so much making out, praise, size difference, no use of y/n
summary: The youngest Roy meets Lukas Matsson at her brother's birthday party. Limerence strikes like lightening. Self-control snaps. Attachment blooms.
author's note: I'm considering making this a short series? Let me know what you think! please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed!
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It made you feel strangely childish, running through the darkened rooms of the event space, carefully stepping with bent knees to reduce your risk of falling from the extra few inches your heels provided you. Looking over your shoulder at the dwindling silhouettes of your siblings, you checked to be sure they didn’t think your disappearance was too suspicious. Of course, they were too transfixed with themselves. They were staring at the large, falsified, magazine covers of themselves hung on the walls of the open space. 
Connor was still making a fuss, comforted by Willa.  You noticed a few attendants coming over to begin the process of removing his personalized poster from public view. Meanwhile, Shiv and Roman had their heads together, no doubt constructing some plan to turn Kendall’s birthday into a business opportunity. You rolled your eyes lightly, turning back around to peer through the small crowd at your older brother’s bomber jacket.
“Ken… Hey Kendall! Wait up!” You called out to him, your voice only a little louder than your normal speaking tone to carry over the techno music. He heard you, apparently, turning to lock eyes with you. You trotted up to him, grateful that the room you were in was mostly empty of partygoers. The walls were big screens flashing with fire, the orange light lighting up Kendall's face as he looked at you. Flames flickered in the pupils of his eyes and you almost laughed at the ironic symbolism of the moment.
“So, I know Rome gave you something earlier, I don’t know what, but uh,  I got you a card too.” You opened your small clutch and pulled out a white envelope, Kendall’s name written on it in your neat cursive handwriting. 
“You did?” His eyebrows raised, accentuating the few rows of wrinkles in his forehead. Taking the envelope from your hand, he turned it around in his fingers, almost like he couldn’t believe it was real. You bit your lower lip and nodded, hands moving to clasp behind your back.
“Yeah, I um… didn’t want to give it to you around them,” you nodded your head in the general direction of the rest of your siblings. “I know things have been, like, weird… lately. But, It’s your birthday and I love you and so I got you something.” Smiling on the last word, your tone raised the slightest bit. Kendall’s brows were still furrowed, but he nodded and ripped the envelope open to produce the card.
It was a cliche store bought birthday card, the front of it adorned in a goofy catchphrase and the picture of a dachshund. You saw his lips twitch the slightest bit as he read the front, a full smile forming as he opened the card. The stereotypical joke’s punchline was delivered and sandwiched inside the folded paper was an old photo of the two of you as children. He picked it up between his thumb and pointer finger, turning it over to find the date it was taken and both of your names written on the back. 
A small laugh escaped his mouth, his pointed grin blooming over his face as he turned the photo to face you. Pictured were the two of you, outside at the Hamptons house on a sunny day. You were young, maybe a few years old and Kendall was an older teenager. The younger version of yourself sat on his shoulders, your hands coming down to cradle his face while his hands held onto your ankles. Your tongue was sticking out at the photographer, he had noticed your face and was in the midst of an open-mouthed laugh when the photo was captured. 
It was a nod to your younger years, when Kendall filled more of a fatherly role than a brotherly one. You had written on the inside of the card, the message reading: “Happy birthday Ken. I love you always, no matter what,” with a heart and your signature ending the note. 
“What do you think?” 
“Are you kidding, I love it. God, I- I haven’t seen that picture in years.” He tucked the photo back away and held the card in one hand while he embraced you. 
“Right?! I found it the other day when I was looking through some old diaries. That was such a good summer.” You beamed at him as you spoke. He hadn’t been this happy around you in weeks, maybe even months. 
“It was. At least, by our standards.” Kendall chuckled a bit with the memory. “This is- it’s just great. Thank you.” You pulled him into another hug, he tucked his nose into your hair and planted a soft kiss on your head.
“I’m glad you like it. I really love you Ken, don’t forget that.” You looked into his eyes as you said it, a sad smile on your face at the intensity behind your words. He just nodded, squeezing you tight one last time before releasing your frame.
“Here, come on. I’m gonna show you something.” He took your hand then, leading you through the throng of people enjoying his birthday party, nobody sparing him a second glance as he walked by.
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That was how you ended up with a rainbow bracelet around your wrist and a too-strong drink in your hand, standing behind the rope blocking off Kendall’s private treehouse from the rest of the party. Your clutch fell around your wrist loosely, your fingers prodding at the straw in your cocktail as your siblings bickered in front of you. 
“You’re getting worked up about a treehouse? Do you know how ridiculous that is?” Kendall shut the rope divider in front of Roman, turning his attention to a newcomer entering the space. “Hey, come in. Wristband him.” He nodded to the security guards.
“Yeah, wristband this guy. Uh, what’s his name?” 
“No idea.” 
“Good, so good. So random, unknown man and our baby sister can come in, but not us?” Roman talked with his arms, navy blue suit jacket riding up to show the skin of his wrists.     Shiv crossed hers as he spoke, rippling the green fabric at the front of her chest, eyes staring daggers into you.
“Yeah so the thing is, and- I already said this, she’s cool. You’re not.” Kendall gestured to you and you gave a weak smile to your excluded siblings.
“Fucking bullshit.” Roman ran a hand through his hair.
“See these two? Don’t let these two in okay. She’s good, they’re not.” Kendall pointed to the three of you as he talked to the guard, a tall blonde man in a black tshirt. “This is my treehouse. You shouldn’t be anywhere near here.” 
Shiv and Rome were in disbelief, still trying to reason with your eldest brother as he turned away from them and towards you. He put an arm on your back, guiding you to walk away from the scene and into the exclusive treehouse. You couldn’t help turning to look over your shoulder, glancing at your two neglected siblings with wide eyes. Roman had begun walking away, but Siobhan was still standing there, arms folded. As she caught your gaze, she rolled her eyes and shook her head in shock before finally moving to follow her brother deeper into the party, beginning to speak to him as she walked.
Kendall cursed under his breath as he led you into his treehouse. It was honestly eerie to see the structure again. You had too much of an age gap with Kendall to have played with him in it as a child, but on more than one occasion you had wandered up into it on your own, looking for a place to escape the aggressive family dynamic that arose wherever your siblings were in close proximity. There was even a time when you were a young teenager you had accidently busted Kendall for smoking weed in the treehouse during a family get together. He ended up paying you handsomely to keep quiet, which you did, never uttering a word about it to this day. You were nothing if not loyal.
The inside of this reconstructed treehouse was much different than the structure of your childhood. For one, it was massive. The treehouse you remembered could barely fit all four of you kids in it, definitely not the few dozen that stood milling about in the new space. The interior was dark. Black walls, wooden dividers and glass windows made up most of the area, with some modern light fixtures and lanterns set around to provide a warm glow. The outermost walls were made to look like the outdoors, a forest of sorts with shadows and cool tones to outline the trees. A wooden fence sat in front of the forest walls, making the entire space feel strangely like an outdoor balcony or patio. The music was lighter in this area, though still a techno party beat playing just loud enough that conversations were had in louder tones than normal. There were more earthy toned chairs, couches and tall tables filling the space than other areas in the event, and more partygoers milling about and chatting rather than dancing. 
“Oh here, come on.” Kendal had been talking, mostly to himself for a few seconds, just rambling about your shitty siblings. You tuned back into his words as he spoke in your ear and turned you in a specific direction with the hand on your lower back. Your eyes searched around the room, not recognizing what was drawing Kendall until he spoke again.
“There he is, Lukas Mattson. The Odin’ of codin’.” Finally you noticed the blonde man sitting just a few feet in front of you. His tall frame was dwarfed by the way he sat on the bench, lanky with one leg hitched up and a beer in his hand, but as he sat up you immediately recognized his face. “My man, my myth, my fucking monolith. What’s up bro? You havin’ a good time?”
“Do I look like I’m having a good time?” Lukas’s gaze darted from Kendall to yourself, your eye contact lingering for just a second long enough to provoke you to turn your stare to the ground in reservation.
“No, you do not.”
“I am not.” 
“Still haven’t figured out the socials, huh? Dude, you should get your algo guy to fix your code.” Your eyes lifted at that, and you smiled at the tone of your brother’s voice. Your hands came to raise the glass you had held at your side to your mouth. You drank through the thin black straw, the artificially colored liquid stinging your throat a bit as you swallowed heavily. Mattson didn’t respond to that, cocking his head at Kendall’s comment, pointedly looking at you, and shifting back to stare at him again.
“Oh uh yeah, this is my sister,” Kendall introduced you with your name, and you gave a small smile to Lukas in greeting. “Listen, heads up, my siblings are looking for you now.”
“And you led one of them straight to me?” He didn’t acknowledge your greeting, but his gaze continued to linger on you, a new softness behind his eyes.
“Yeah, well, she’s cool. She won’t try to get to sell your soul like the other two. Shiv and Roman, they’re like emissaries from the Grand Duke of Old. Dad wants to buy you, so he sent his winged dildos to schmooze.” 
“I shouldn’t say anything, even the look on my face is commercially sensitive.”
“But it makes, like, no sense, correct? Amtrak buys Tesla? If anything, you should buy him.” Your eyebrows furrowed the smallest bit at Kendall’s suggestion, turned your head to look up at him. He was too engrossed in his conversation to notice your confusion, but the way Mattson cocked an eyebrow showed that he did.
“You think?” You turned your attention back to Lukas, taking another sip of your drink. “Well, I really appreciate your impartial read.” He leaned his head towards Kendall, speaking lowly, like his words were a secret.
“ Kendall? Uh, Rava wants to say hi.” Comfrey had appeared behind you, moving quickly and quietly in a way you’d come to appreciate. You didn’t even notice her presence until she spoke, fidgeting with the phone in her hand.
“Sure, uh not right now. When I’m ready.” Kendall dismissed her and Comfrey slinked back into the shadows of the party, waiting for him to finish his conversation. “Listen, you should stay up here, okay? So you don’t get networked to fuck. Uh, here,” He spoke your name, addressing you for the first time since he’d begun talking to Lukas, “Keep the cronies away from him. And the sibs.”
“Um… okay.” It felt like more of a command than a request, but you agreed despite your annoyance.
“Yeah, yeah. Enjoy, man.” With a wave, Kendall left, following Comfrey into a new area of the night’s festivities.
You stood for a moment, awkward and self conscious, twirling your drink’s straw between your thumb and index finger. Biting your lower lip, you made eye contact with Mattson, realizing he had been staring at you this whole time.
“Hi, sorry, I don’t think we’ve met before.” You finally spoke, offering a small smile to the man in front of you. 
“No, we haven’t. I know you though. The youngest Roy? The virtuous daughter?” He motioned as he joked with you, the beer in his hand sloshing around in its brown glass bottle.
“I don’t know about that.” You laughed, moving to sit by him on the wooden bench he occupied. “You can’t believe everything you see in the media, I thought you would know that better than anyone.” 
“Maybe. Your lack of involvement with your family’s scandals speaks for itself, though. You’re a saint compared to your father and brothers.” His Swedish accent peeked through his words, making his sentences flow together like music.
“Well, I’ve had less time to fuck things up. I joined the company much later than them, I only finished college a few years ago.” Shrugging while you spoke, you tried your best to dismiss his implications. Your momentary status as a neutral bridge between your feuding family was something you couldn’t bear to lose.
Mattson hummed before answering, nodding his head slowly as he looked you up and down. “And you aren’t going to use this time to try and convince me to sell?” 
You shook your head, a shy smile coming to your face. “Honestly? I don’t really want to. I think you’ve already decided what you want to do, and no amount of my bargaining will change that.”
“You’re smart.”
“I try.”
Lukas grinned at you, “Do you always do what your brother tells you to?”
“No, I just want to make him happy.” You shook your head slightly, feeling a little embarrassed at your obvious obedience to your family. It’s not like you don’t think for yourself, it’s just that sometimes complying is easier than the alternative. “You’re not enjoying the party?”
“No. Are you?”
“Not really. Crowds aren’t my favorite thing. And these drinks are way too strong.” You set down your drink on the floor near the bench, the liquor was beginning to give you a headache.
“But you came to support Kendall?” You nodded. He raised his eyebrows. “And you still say you aren’t obedient to him?”
“I…” You bit your lip lightly, not sure of how much information you should really reveal to this man. He was an adversary, but something about Lukas made you want to be honest with him. Maybe it was his eyes, or his casual posture, but you felt like leaning into his warmth, however strange it may be. “Well, you did call me virtuous. Maybe I just need to rebel a little, give into impulses for once.”
It was a joke, you both knew it, but the smirk on Mattson’s face felt a bit serious. “That’s an idea.” 
You smiled at him, a little blush coming to your cheeks at the suggestion in his sentence. He had moved a bit closer to you through your conversation, and now his knee brushed gently against your. His hand comes down to innocently brush out a wrinkle in the skirt of your dress, resting gently on your thigh for a moment too long before moving away.
“Hey! There you are, fucking hiding from me. Like a human VPN.” The sound of Roman’s voice snapped the two of you from the silence of the shared moment. You quickly adjusted your posture so your leg was crossed away from Lukas, adding a bit of distance between your bodies. “I see someone already found you. How are you doing?”
“I’m all right, just enjoying the company. It’s just, uh, you can fill in the blanks.” You subtly glared at your brother as Mattson spoke, immediately aware of his attempt to cut you from the conversation.
“How’d you get up here Rome? I thought Kendall had you banned from the premises.” Roman perched on a chair across from the pair of you, rolling up his sleeves as he sat.
“I paid a girl to give the security a blowjob, what do you think?” Sarcasm was thick in his voice as he spoke to you. “Hey Mattson, uh, question. My old man- our old man,” He made a motion between you and himself, “got a bit grumpy this morning, but you weren’t trying to humiliate him, right? I mean, fucking everyone says, last big legacy content library, last big fucking super app streaming platform. We obviously fit right?” 
“People say we fit.” 
“Yeah, yeah.” Roman runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tick you’ve come to know. You can tell he's worried at the frankness of Lukas’s responses.
 “Stargo is really, really shitty, though. Your genius would really help us out, if you end up selling to Waystar” You raised your eyebrows as you addressed Lukas. The anxiety radiating off of Roman made you want to pitch in, help him, although you still thought your haggling wouldn’t affect Mattson’s final decision.
 “I do have one question before we start these.. negotiations. Like, I don’t wanna be rude but.. What kind of shape is your father in? How long will he be around, we’re talking one year… five years..?”  Roman is shocked quiet at Mattson’s forwardness, his hands running down the sides of his face as he tried to formulate a response that won’t fuck the deal he’s working to build.
“Well, you mean, you just don’t want him hanging over you, right? Looking over your shoulder all the time, especially while you work” You ask in his stead. Lukas nods. “Well what if you don’t have to talk to him? Like, ever?” Looking over to Roman, you try to throw him a lead to jump back into the conversation.
“Yeah, you work out of, uh, Austin, London, Stockholm, Geneva, whatever. It’s just totally separate companies and we burn Stargo.” Rome catches up, making a contribution to your schmoozing. “And on the occasion that you need to send up a fսcking smoke signal from Geneva, then that goes through me.”
“We can do that together.”
“So, I know GoJo is your baby, and we don’t want to interfere with that at all. So, bearing that in mind, would you consider meeting with my dad?” Roman clasps his palms together and points them towards Lukas.
“Yeah, well, if all this is true, then... yeah.”
“How's Monday?” 
“Monday is great.”
“And if I were to shake your hand right now, could I go tell my dad that I basically just bought GoJo for him?” 
“No.” Lukas chuckles, pauses to take a sip from his beer. “But you can tell him I'm in the conversation.”
“I’ll fucking take it.” Roman smiles and takes a deep breath before standing from his seat. “I will see you then, I have a call to make” He pulls his phone out as he walks away, already starting to dial in the numbers.
You take a moment to be silent, watching his frame fade into the crowd until you turn to Lukas. He’s looking at you too, head tilted and grin plastered across his face.
“I thought Kendall told you not to let him speak to me.”
“I thought I told you, I’m trying to be more rebellious.” You smile back at him, switching the way you cross your legs to let your bare knee touch the fabric of his pants. 
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You stay that way, speaking to Mattson and letting him subtly touch your arm, back, leg, for the better part of an hour. It hadn’t been your plan to stay so long, just make a quick appearance for Kendall’s sake and head home before midnight, but you found yourself not wanting to end your dialog with Lukas, causing you to push back your exit further and further. He grabs you a new drink from one of the servers walking through the party, a cocktail that luckily tastes much better than your previous refreshment. Well, maybe not so luckily, since you end up drinking enough to get yourself buzzed and bolder than normal. 
You’re self aware enough to draw back when you notice your siblings entering the room again, Roman giving a small wave before heading to a different seating area. You don’t pay him much mind until Shiv enters the area as well, hair frizzy and makeup smudged. She seems pissed, he seems drunk, it all looks like a recipe for failure. Roman perches on a chair, glass of wine in his hand, Shiv turns to leave but gets drawn by some comment he makes.
“I’m sorry- maybe I should…” You look back at Mattson, your conversation had lulled for a few seconds as your attention had turned to your siblings.
“Have to go babysit?” He smiles at you, a bit condescending, but not enough to make you upset. You don’t respond for a second, biting your lip and looking between your current company and the scene between your family. 
“I just…” The words come at as a sigh, your head lulling back in exhaustion as you notice Kendall and Naomi breaking through the crowd to engage in Shiv and Roman’s antics. “Things always get out of hand when I’m not there to mediate. But I’m so fucking tired of having to be the good one all the time” 
“You don’t have to be, just take a step back, watch shit unfold. Rebel, remember?” Mattson’s blue eyes are dark in the lighting and his eyebrows are raised, daring you. You smile, nod, take a sip of your drink. “It’s actually good entertainment when you aren’t involved.” 
Deciding to take a break from your role as peacemaker, you turn to face your siblings in your seat, the same direction Lukas is sitting. You feel his bent knee brush against your back and lean into a bit, something not visible from your sibling’s position. You allow yourself to stay that way until you notice Roman moving to get up. That sparks you to rise, set your drink down, murmur an apology to Lukas, and quickly run over to the circle of your siblings.
“You know you want to, just fucking hit me, do it. ‘I’m not a real person’ fuck you.” Rome’s words are charged, he’s too close to Kendall for your comfort and you see his next action coming a mile away, without any way to stop it. “All right, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Happy birthday fuckface.” 
Two hands hand on Kendall’s back as he turns to walk away, a push from them sending him falling onto his face in the middle of the party. You know Roman didn’t mean to push him so hard, he wasn’t thinking clearly, but the result was the same regardless of his intent.
“What the fuck Rome? Why would you do that?” You move to help Kendall up with Naomi, turning your head to yell at your other brother, who was laughing at his actions.
“Everybody just take it easy, okay?” You didn’t even notice Connor’s presence until he spoke.
“Oh shit, are you okay? Happy birthday.” Roman laughed through his words. Kendall pushed you away from him in embarrassment when he stood, Naomi giving you a look telling you that she had it covered.
“Take your coat off. Take your fucking coat off.” He didn’t look back at Roman, didn’t address his comments, just spat anger at Connor as he was ushered away. Just a few hours ago he was fine, you didn’t know what could’ve caused him to crash so hard since you’d last seen him.
“Like a fucking eight year old. You're an asshole.” Shiv speaks briefly before marching away, Roman still giggling at his own antics.
“It’s funny. It’s funny! You’re gonna laugh at it later.”
You moved to face your brother, pushing his shoulder back against the chair he had moved to sit in. “Clean your fucking act up. You do one thing right and think you can get away with anything. I love you, but don’t be so fucking stupid, Roman.” Your words seem to break through, he stops laughing for a minute to shoot you a dirty look. Not waiting to see his response, you turn and quickly walk towards the nearest exit of the area, pulling your phone out of your clutch to message your driver.
“Leaving?” Lukas’s voice next to you startles you, and you shoot him a weak smile.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, I need to get out of here. I just can’t be near them right now.” He walks with you, humming in understanding as you speak.
“Why don’t you leave with me? Get your mind off them.” You stop walking then, now only a few yards from the exit of the venue. Crossing your arms, you lightly rock back and forth on the balls of your feet.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
He shrugs. “Maybe.”
“If someone found out…”
“Think for yourself. Be impulsive for once.”
His words give you pause. Normally you would deny him, deny the aching between your thighs that his presence gave you. You’d head home and masturbate until you passed out, report to your Dad in the morning, never speak to the man again. But you were so, so tired of being good.
“Okay. Let’s do it. My driver’s here, we can pull around and pick you up in a few minutes.” Thinking quickly, you come up with a simple plan to stop the public from seeing you leave together. He nods, smiles, and reaches for your phone. You let him take it, let him put his number in and hand it back to you, fingers lingering on yours.
“Text me when you’re here.”
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The ride to Lukas’s hotel room is intense. You have enough discretion to raise the divider between the front and back seats of the car, blocking the view of yourself from your driver. But once that black panel separated you, Mattson was merciless. He wasted no time in pulling you into his lap, kissing you roughly and palming your chest with his large hands. You barely came up for breath the entire ride to his hotel, and when you did your neck was immediately attacked. He marked your skin with hickeys and bites, leaving you gasping for air. Trying your best to quiet your moans and whimpers, you covered your mouth with your hand whenever you could, but you doubted your driver couldn’t hear the noises Lukas pulled from you. You tipped them an extra thousand dollars just in case.
He gave you a break while you hurried through the hotel, standing close to you but not touching you, even in the elevator. It gave you plausible deniability. Though if your reflection was any judge, the already darkening marks on your neck spoke for themselves. Mattson is so stoic in public it has you questioning if he even wants this. If he wants you the way that he did in the car. But, as he holds the door open for you to enter his hotel suite, your question is answered.
The hotel suite is modern, with several separate rooms adorned in black, white, and gray decorations. The farthest wall of the living room, the space you’ve walked into, consists of glass windows which offer a gorgeous view of the city’s nighttime lights. You take a moment to look around, throwing your clutch over to an entryway table and walking towards the windows. Your reflection is just barely visible in the glass, your silhouette a sliver of light against the darkness of the New York skyline. Your head tilts to the side a bit, and you reach a hand forward to press against the glass. Maybe it’s the alcohol in your bloodstream, or the lust making your heart beat faster than normal, but you don’t even notice Lukas approach until his reflection joins yours in the window. You look up and slightly behind you, catching his eyes with yours. His pupils are wide and dark, his lids heavy and narrowed with intent. 
He places a hand on your chin, tilting you up as he bends down to reach your lips. It starts soft, lips barely parted and eyes closed. Your body follows the tilt of your head, moving to face him and place your hands around his neck. His hands travel to your butt, using his leverage to press you against him. His tongue slips inside your mouth, his movements speed up. Hands begin to grope at your ass, squeezing and pawing you through your gown. It’s rough, but there’s no anger or malice behind his moments, only eagerness.
A hand moves up to the small of your back, lightly rubbing the fabric on your skin in an almost soothing motion. When you finally break the kiss for air, Lukas moves, nuzzling into the crook of your neck to place sloppy kisses there. You’re breathless, but craving his mouth so badly you direct his head back up to yours with a hand in his hair. He groans into your mouth when you press your chest against his, your boobs straining against your dress. The kisses become dirty and wet. He bites at your lower dip and pulls it a bit. You trace the roof of his mouth with your tongue. Your thighs are squeezing together now, softly grinding into each other to provide some kind of sensation to your throbbing clit. 
You finally say something when his hands move to pull up the skirt of your dress, breaking the kiss with an inhale for breath before quickly speaking.
“Wait, wait.” He does. Pauses his movements but keeps his fingers in the fabric of the dress. “I’m -I uh, haven’t had sex before. And I don’t want to lose my virginity to someone I’m not dating. Or like, in a relationship with.” 
“Okay. Can I still make you cum?”
“Oh, um, sure. Yes.” He’s unfazed by your words, gives you a little smile and another messy kiss before dipping to kneel in front of you. He presses soft kisses to your lower stomach, just barely lifting your dress to expose the very bottom of your panties. When he moves to kiss the front of your mound though, you freeze.
“What are you doing?”
“I was planning on eating your pussy. Is that okay?”
“You want to do that?”
“I would like to, yes.”
“Uh, yeah, okay. I just haven't done this before.” He looks up at you with his piercing blue eyes, waiting until you give him a firm answer. “Can you maybe just tell me what you’re doing? Like, before you do it?”
“I can do that.”
“Okay, okay. Thank you.” You smile down at him, blushing a bit in embarrassment from your lack of knowledge. He returns a small grin, before moving to kiss the front of your pubic bone again. This time, you let him.
He muzzles his nose into the fabric there briefly, before moving his fingers to rub against your panties. They’re soaked, drenched from your time in the car and the heavy making out you had just finished. He chuckles lowly to himself as he feels this, his touch featherlight.
“You’re so wet. Are you that turned on already?” You bite your lower lip and nod, chest beginning to rise and fall quicker.
“I’m going to touch you underneath your panties, is that okay?”
“Yes.”
He nods at you then, using his thumb to hook your underwear to the side, exposing your cunt to the cold night air. Two long fingers move on either side of your slit, giving pressure just outside of where you need it so badly. You whimper at his motions, muffling the sound by pressing your lips together. His index finger moves then, gently grazing over your clit as it travels the length of your vulva, collecting wetness as it does. A few gentle circles around your entrance before returning to your clit, finally pressing there and beginning to trace patterns into the bundle of nerves.
It feels divine. You’d gotten good at pleasing yourself with your twenty plus years of abstinence, but it felt so delicious to have someone else touch the most sensitive parts of your body. Especially someone who knew what they were doing. And from the way Lukas was moving, he knew exactly what he was doing. His index finger drew circles with your clit, joined shortly after by his middle finger to fully pressure the bud. Your head tips back then, brushing the window behind you as a moan escapes your mouth. 
“Don’t fight your noises, I want to hear how good you feel.” The only response you have to his command is to let another whine pass your lips, an action which you hear him groan at. Your fingers move down to grab at your dress, pulling it higher up to expose your bottom half fully, balling your hands into fists in the fabric.
“Fuck, I’m taking these off.” The pressure on your clit stops for a moment, and you lean your head down to look at him. His fingers loop in the sides of your panties to pull them down your thighs. As they reach your calves, you move a hand to his shoulder and stabilize yourself so you can raise your feet out of the garment. You step your last foot out of your panties, and instead of discarding them to the floor, Lukas balls the fabric up, stuffing it in his back pants pocket. He just smiles up at your confused expression, not bothering to explain.
“I’m going to taste you now, okay?”
You nod, and Lukas moves close to you, so close you end up with your back pressed against the window. He lightly holds one of your legs, moving it up and over his shoulder, allowing him better access to your now naked cunt. He leans forward, and with the flat of his tongue, licks a long stripe across your pussy. The feeling is new and exciting, hot and wet and just the right amount of strength. You move a hand to thread through his hair, your other one pressing against the glass behind you to hold you in place. 
His tongue fucks you like you’re his favorite taste, diving in and out of your already soaked folds. When he sucks your clit into his mouth, you choke back more of a scream than a moan. The leg on his shoulder begins to shake, and your brows knit together in ecstasy. It’s unlike anything you’ve felt before, you don’t ever want it to stop. Your climax begins building at a rapid pace, and you feel yourself grinding against Lukas’s tongue, chasing your pleasure with impulsive motions. He lets out a low moan against you, a buzzing hum that vibrates through your body. 
“Fuck Lukas, please don’t stop.” The words come out breathless, followed by a whimper and preceded by a groan. He hums against you again and doubles his efforts, moving his tongue to fuck into your enterance while two fingers come up to rub quickly against your clit. It’s only a few seconds before the tension building in your stomach finally snaps, and with a languid moan you fall apart under Lukas Matsson’s tongue. 
You aren’t even sure what noises escape your lips, too lost in bliss to focus on anything but absolute pleasure. He keeps eating you out until you’re over sensitive and almost pushing his face away, and even then he continues lightly stroking your folds with a few fingers. When you look down at him, his chin is covered in your juices and his pants are tented with an obvious erection.
“Oh my god.”
“That good?” 
“Kiss me again?”
He does, of course. Raises from his knees to grab your chin and pull you into his body, not bothering to wipe his mouth before capturing your lips with his. You can taste yourself on him, tangy and rich and intoxicating. The flavor only spurs you on, pressing your lips to his roughy. He’s hard against your stomach, a feeling that both arouses you and causes some anxiety. Lukas seems content to kiss you forever, tasting your lips like a man starved. When he pulls away to kiss down your neck, you take a moment to speak.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“I… want you to feel good too.” 
“You want to get me off?” You nod in response.
“Will you show me what to do? What you like?” 
“Sure. Here, come with me.” He smiles at you, grabs your hand with his, and gently leads you over to the couch in the room. It’s a big, white sectional facing a massive TV. Lukas moves to sit back against it, gently pulling you to sit close to him, nearly sitting in his lap. His erection is even more obvious in this position, his length looking painfully hard against his thigh.
“Can I touch you?” You look up at him with wide eyes, your hand moving to his thigh while you wait for a response. He leans back and nods at you, a slightly cocky grin on his face. Gently, so gently, your hand moves to palm over his cock. He hums as you make contact, quietly encouraging your timid rubbing. 
Fingers explore the imprint of his length in his pants, finger tracing the outline of his cock cautiously. You looked up at him through your lashes, noticing the way his face twitched and changed with your increases in pressure. Pressing a bit harder, you touch him with long strokes, beginning a pattern with your movements. Lukas’s tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. Something in his stare feels animalistic, like a predator watching its prey. Maybe that should scare you, but if anything it stirs you on, makes you want to please him even more.
“Will you take these off?” Your hands move to his waistband, finger slipping underneath the fabric there, pulling it teasingly from his skin. 
“Of course.” He smirks, uses the back of the couch to prop his hips up, and slowly pulls his pants down his thighs. He doesn’t bother with leaving his briefs, pulling his underwear off with the same motion, leaving only exposed skin in his wake. 
His cock springs up, brushing against his shirt slightly, leaving a small wet spot from the precum on his tip. He’s long, not that you have much to compare it to, and thin, with a red-pink head already leaking. You take a moment to touch him again, slowly sliding your hand across the skin of his thigh until your fingers graze the short blonde hairs at the base of his shaft. Your hand wraps around him, fingers barely touching. His dick is double the length of your hand, standing tall with a slight curve upwards. 
You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t intimidated. Slowly, eyes flickering from Lukas’s face to your hand and back again, you began to stroke him. Your hand gently raised from his base to tip, your thumb grazing over his slit. This elicits a soft gasp from Lukas, a sound that makes you give him a shy smile. The hand on his cock moves back down, your other moving to rest gently on his thigh as you slightly adjust to face him better. Your motions are stuttering and unpracticed, hindered by the dryness of both your skin. Lukas doesn’t seem to mind, his breath coming faster and his hips slightly moving to guide the travel of your hand. 
“I think…” You bite your lower lip in thought, your eyebrows coming together as your sentence trails off. Bending over Lukas’s lap slightly, you look up at him through your dark eyelashes, and let a string of spit fall from your tongue onto his cock. 
The effect on him is immediate, a deep curse falling from his lips as his dick twitches in your grip. His head falls back against the couch, his eyes shut softly. You don’t know if it’s the sensation of the spit on his sensitive tip, or the fact that you were doing something so dirty, but he seems to love your impulsive choice. Your hand gets into a better rhythm, moving much easier as you spread the wetness across the skin of his cock.
“Fuck, how did you know about that?” Lukas is breathless, but still chuckling through his words. 
“I didn't, it just seemed like you needed something wet…” 
He curses again, hums in agreement. You just blush in response, moving your attention back to his length in front of you. Your grip tightens, your motions speed up a bit. The sound of skin fills the room, joined by low hums and moans from Lukas’s throat. The heat between your thighs begins to return, a dull throb causing you to grind your thighs together.
“Does that feel good?” Your voice is quiet and laced with desire when you speak.
“Mhm.” A lazy grin is on Lukas’s face, his arms are spread wide across the back of the couch. “You’re doing so good.”
The compliment goes straight to your cunt, sparks traveling down your thighs at the praise. You move faster, leaning into him more as your hand speeds up, giving him a view of your cleavage. You don’t even notice the desperate whimper that escapes you, but he does.
“Just like that, fuck. Good. Good girl.” Lukas sits up more, a hand moving rest on your thigh as his body begins to tense up. His eyebrows pull together as you continue stroking. Your motions have gotten rough and fast, a physical exhibition of the desperation running through your veins. A string of curses heavily veiled in a Swedish accent leaves Lukas’s mouth, his hips buck roughly into your fist, and with a groan, Lukas Mattson comes in your hand.
Strings of white coats your skin, the fabric of your skirt, the bottom of Lukas’s shirt. He continues thrusting into your hand, chasing his release until he falls against the couch, panting and smiling and spent. Your eyes travel from his face to the ribbons of come on your hand. Instinctually, you bring it to your mouth, licking up the liquid before your thoughts get in the way. 
“You are insane.” Lukas’s voice brings you back to the world. He reaches over and guides you to move into his lap. You straddle him, his softening cock sandwiched between your torsos. He’s all smiles, face blissed out and eyes soft. He brings a hand to your chin, looking into your eyes before placing a surprisingly light kiss to your lips. 
Things are quiet for a moment, your head tucked into Lukas’s neck and his hands around the small of your back. It feels delicate, almost loving, almost corny. It partially scares you, being so intimate with someone you’ve just met, with someone so powerful. But the captivation outweighs the fear. He feels like the Earth; strong, devoted, all-consuming. You could try to leave but he would be everywhere, and you would come back to him.
You stay at Lukas’s that night, wrapped in white sheets with his arm thrown languidly across your waist. In the morning, he tells you that’s the best he’s slept in weeks. You let him see you with smeared makeup and messy hair, listen to him talk about Stockholm and pasta and the sun. He texts you to make sure you get home safe, then texts you a photo of him working on his laptop. You can’t help the smile that comes to your face when you talk to him, one so obvious you have to hide it in public. He calls you every night. 
It’s the closest you’ve come to a relationship, even if it’s something you need to hide from the world. He’s funny and weird and bold and drastic. You feel his hands on your skin in your dreams, like your body is a memory of his touch. He makes you happy, makes you perverted. Things move fast and slow at the same time. It’s confusing and clear all at once.
You’d choose it all over again if you could go back
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© secondhand-snow 2024
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queenimmadolla · 1 year
Note
For the blurb thing
Eddie
Bath
Fluff
𝐝𝐚𝐝!𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞, 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 '𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 ─ because i don't want to keep track of a bunch of different dad!eddies
“This is fucking gross.” 
“Well, you smell gross. So.”
Eddie huffed, brows furrowed in irritation as he leaned his back against the shower tile. The baby in his arms slapped her palms furiously against the red mixture of water and tomato juice filling your small tub, the splashback splattering across Eddie’s face.
He looked ridiculous. You’d already taken the pictures. 
The trailer was lucky enough to be equipped with a small…tub of sorts. Really, it seemed to be only suitable for children, no grown adult could bath comfortably in one of these. 
Yet, here Eddie found himself, folded up in it with his knees poking out, no leg room, no back room–his ‘lean’ put him at a 92 degree angle, if he was lucky– holding a one year old, who had most definitely already peed in the mixture.
So, now he was sitting in tomato juice, water and piss.
Eddie was not happy.
“There we go,” You sang, as you poured the last can, tapping the bottom of it for good measure.
“Is that necessary?” He snapped. 
You took no offense, eyes wary as you eyed him from top to knee before locking eyes again, “You need every drop.”
Then you pinched your nose and Eddie rolled his eyes.
What had been a promising start to family day at the park–picnic basket, copy of a new book you’d picked out at the bookstore in town with a couple of penny’s favorite blocks to beat into the ground, in hand–quickly turned disastrous when Eddie had taken Penny over to a tree she’d been pointing towards and babbling at while you set up the blanket, and the two of them had promptly been sprayed by a skunk hiding behind the tree trunk.
You’d heard a lot of screaming and squealing. Penny even yelled out once.
The car ride back was agony, having the front windows rolled down and the back ones propped open didn’t help, you’d had to stick your head out the window, uncaring about other people in passing cars. If being compared to a dog meant you didn’t have to smell your husband and baby, you’d bark.
Eddie had to stand outside the trailer holding Penny while you rummaged around for a Wellness magazine you’d seen the measurements for a tomato juice bath in once. When you appeared in the doorway, magazine clutched in your hands and held in the air victoriously, Eddie and Penny got to go inside while you took your car–and not his stinky van–to the market to pick up some tomato juice.
Eddie hadn’t been willing to sit in it. If it weren’t for Penny, you would have had to chase him around the trailer but you'd been able to gaslight him into thinking Penny wouldn’t like this particular bath since it wasn’t just water. A low blow since you knew how distressed he got when she cried.
So he’d gotten in. And Penny was having the freaking time of her young life.
“Do you like your bath, baby?” You cooed, leaning forward as she beamed up at you, toothless mouth open wide with her smile and those big brown eyes of hers sparkling. All because it was you talking to her, she loved you so much, “Yeah, awww, such a good stinky girl, huh?”
Penny squealed in agreement, hands slapping down against the water again, making Eddie flinch. Then she wiggled, chubby arms reaching out to you, asking you to pick her up and hold her but you quickly ran out of the breath you were holding so you yanked yourself back for a breather. The car ride might have got you a little familiar with their scent but you weren’t nose blind. 
Eddie took offense, “How long do we have to sit in this?”
“Until you don’t stink.” You scooped some of the mixture up in a plastic cup and poured it over his head, trying not to laugh at the frenzied look on his face.
Penny didn’t hide it, she laughed openly, turning so she could be sure to make eye contact with her daddy. She got the same hair treatment, but she was used to having her hair washed this way, she loved it. 
“And exactly how long is that, dearest?” That had been the closest he’d been to calling you a bitch.
“Uhm,” You gave Penny the cup to play with while you wiped your hand off and picked up the magazine resting on the small sink counter. It had been open, you scanned past the measurements until you reached the set time, “twenty minutes.”
Eddie was about to launch into complaints when he noticed your slight frown and the furrow in your brows.
“Huh.” Is all you said, head cocking to the side
“What?”
You were silent for a moment, reading the sentence over again in your head before you read aloud, “Does not eliminate or neutralize odor.”
“WHAT!?”
“I know right? Why would they provide the measurements for the tomato juice and water ratio if it doesn’t even work? Is this an amateur? Some sucker is walking around, thousands of dollars in debt with a degree in journalism, only to write about myt–”
“GET ME OUT!”
594 notes · View notes
harrysmimi · 1 year
Text
Baby Talk
Synopsis: Harry wants to try for a baby but is hesitant to tell his girlfriend
CW: Smut and a shit load of fluff.
Series Masterlist | More of my work
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Ever since Harry had come back home with YN.
The first thing they did was go to Brielle's baby shower her sister-in-law hosted for her.
YN was very excited to see her friend pregnant, she even called dibs for baby sitting before Alec, which got him pissed for the moment there.
Now it was three weeks later, Harry wasn't working but making a music video which would be done by the next day. He had a magazine interested yesterday and the Photoshoot is arranged on the weekend. That meant he was free and home today.
He scrolled through Instagram, when YN's post popped up on his feed. Yes, he followed her private account. It was a little photo dump from her friend's baby shower. The first picture was of her and Brielle recreating the Hadid Sisters pictures from a long time ago. And the next was YN's hand on her friend's bump all surprised, he reckoned it was that moment when YN felt babies kicking inside for the first time it has her gasping and her friend laughing. And next two were of him and her together and rest of it were random little videos and to end it all, she had a funny pictures of Brielle using her bump as a table for her plate of cake taking a huge bite. Just ten likes on her post from ten people out of fifteen who follow her.
She had removed very many people from her follower list (especially her cousins) and switched her account to private recently since Harry decided he wanted to follow her, and turned off her DMs. Apparently the hate was increasing since he talked the second time about her recently. It was going to be inevitable, but she thought it was going to be best option there.
He liked it and commented a little red heart, and pouty emoji.
Now seeing that post had his heart racing. Especially remembering how good she was with Brielle's nieces and nephews that day, everyone loved her for some reason. She was surrounded by little kids the whole time there. Even her own niece and nephew loves her, no wonder why! He loves her too!
Especially Brielle's three month old nephew. Apparently the infant was way too infatuated by YN that he would start to cry every time she tried to give him to his dad.
"Hey, come on Mateo." Brielle's brother urged his son back to him but the little baby started whining. It is indeed very difficult to figure what is going on in an infant's mind. Mateo was meeting for the first time and he already didn't wanted to leave her.
"It's okay, I don't mind hanging out with him." YN assured the red head.
"You sure?"
"Mhmm, I'll go find you or your girlfriend if he starts to get fussy." She nodded. That's when Harry saw her approaching him with the baby as he went to get a drink of water. "Harry look."
"Oh who is that?" He cooed, watching the little lad staring up at his girlfriend like she's made of twinkling stars with his big blue eyes. He doesn't blame the little lad but he's just little baby. "Hello, darling!"
"This is Mateo, Brielle's nephew." YN introduced the little human to him, "and Mateo this is Harry, my boyfriend." The little boy just squirmed shyly in her arms making the pair laugh. "He's so cute!"
"He is," Harry agreed, "how old is he?"
"Three months." She gasped, distracted watching the little boy smiling at her. "Sorry, I just..." She looked up at him sheepishly.
"It's alright, love." Harry smiled, dimples denting deep in his cheeks. "I don't blame you, he is very adorable."
For the next three hours the couple hung out with little Mateo until he fell asleep and YN had to give him back to his parents. The little sad pout on her face was the most adorable thing she's seen. She really wanted to hang out with that tiny human more!
That nailed the image in his head for good.
Now that he's had more free time on his hand, he's got to thinking. He does want all of that for himself too. Especially now when he's got someone who he loves to much and she feels the same way.
He had watched his friends meet the love of their life, fall in love, get married and have family of their own. He's experienced that first hand with Sarah and Mitch. Is it too bad he wants that for himself too?
Hell, they haven't had the baby talk yet and here he is already picturing everything.
A little baby to love on in a way which seemed much more magical to even think about. No doubt, his YN would be the best parent to their kiddos. If they have any!
Two years is enough time right? To give a thought about wanting a family with someone.
Harry has never found talking about anything this difficult. For the first time they had indulged into something sexual, he had her sat down to ask what she wanted from it, what she thinks would be comfortable for her and what not as it was her first time. They even talked more about the moving in together part, he wanted to be sure that it's something she wanted too and she did now they're living together.
He doesn't know if that's something she really wants, his assumptions and him thinking she's going to be the most amazing mother to his kiddos won't be relevant if she doesn't want any kids. Maybe she doesn't want to get pregnant. Maybe she doesn't want to have kids at all.
He's not getting any younger. Especially since her brother have pointed out that he's quite older than his baby sister though he doesn't see a problem with that, it made him insecure. Even if it was just tiny bit. It has never been an issue for either of them.
He's just beating himself up for no reason, he knew that. All it is going to take is talking to her about it. If he tells her about his tiny insecurity she's going to give him a good talk about how it was definitely fine with her, how she shouldn't be insecure around her because she loves him and would never judge him or make him feel bad about himself in all her consciousness. The click of the door opening caught his attention, making his heart beating like he just ran a marathon.
"Hazza, I'm home." YN's little mumble traveled through their small living room with a sound of door clicking close she appeared in his sight.
"Hello darling." He smiled, already rushing to greet her. She had a little bag of groceries with her. "How was your day at work?"
"It was good, surprisingly we didn't had any Karens coming in today." She beamed putting away bottle of Orange Juice in the fridge.
She seemed in a very good mood today. Should he talk to her?
"Do you want to start on with dinner?" YN suggested, "I need to go take a shower, spilt coffee all over my pants today."
"I thinking we should go on a date." He suggested, making up a plan on the spot. They both haven't been on a proper date in a while now. Her eyes lit up in instant on the mention of a date night.
"Yeah, we should." She agreed.
Harry took her to the same restaurant they went on their first date, it was the first time since then.
He stalled the whole night to talk about it. Wanting to take advantage of her being in a good mood was thrown out the window as soon as both of them came back home. He'd put on the movie both of them wanted to watch for ages. Not giving into her little touch of affection and kisses. It's him who takes things further unless she's making it very obvious.
In the morning, YN slept past her alarm. She was rushing to leave for work, he had to go get last shots of his music video done too. Everything happened so quickly that he didn't even realise how fast the time went on and she was kissing him bye for a few hours like every day before heading out.
It took him extra long to get shots for his music video done today. He was stuck thinking about how he should have just told her instead of stalling and basically turning her down for having sex without saying a word. That wouldn't have been the first time he's told her he's not in the mood, she's nothing but understanding. But he saw her face today.
She woke up before him, didn't stay in bed for their morning cuddles. She hardly talked to him. Yeah, she was in hurry to get to work but still he felt so guilty.
But to his surprise, he was greeted by a squealing YN at home. "Harry, Harry, Harry, I have to tell you something!" She grabbed his hands and drag him to the living room with her. He sat down to have her basically sat on his lap giggling at her excitement for he doesn't know what.
"What's got you so excited?"
"So you probably don't know her, but my co-worker Emily's cat had an unexpected litter like a little over two months ago." She started, "you think we can get one kitten from her, please?"
"You want to get a kitten?" He was surprised.
"Yes! Half of them have already got their new homes. I wanted to talk to about it but I forgot. Please!" She hopped on her spot like a toddler asking for candy.
"Of course we can get one, baby, you don't have to say please." He chuckled. Honestly he wouldn't mind adding a pet to the mix. He's been wanting to try to have a literal human kid!
"I love you so much!" She attacked him with a bear hug with her arms wrapped around his neck. With an umph Harry almost fell back but held onto her before she could fall down on the floor.
"I love you more!" He pressed a kiss on her cheek. "When can we go bring one home?"
"She said she wants to keep the kitten with their mum for another week just so they're litter trained and all." YN shared, "her husband's a vet so he suggested the kittens get their vaccinations before they go to their new homes."
"Mhmm, that gives us enough time to prepare for one, doesn't it?" He suggested.
"Yes!" She nods her head jerkingly, "you sure you want a cat living with us?"
"Of course baby, we'll have to keep an eye on Mr. McFish though. Cats and Fishes don't quite get along, do they?" He's grown very attached to her pet fish there. He cleans up the aquarium, feeds the fish and all that stuff himself. He just doesn't let her do that when he's home.
"He'll be fine, his aquarium has got a secure lid and all." She assured him.
"Okay." He agreed.
"She sent me pictures of the kittens who haven't been adopted yet." YN picked up her phone from the coffee table and opened up her recent chat with her co-worker. There was a message from YN's side saying she needs to talk to her boyfriend first.
That made it everything all the more legit to him. He's never been in a serious relationship like this before. She cares enough to ask for his opinion. Even show him pictures of kittens. He shared with kitten's personality he liked through the little videos. No doubt of the kittens were adorable, he liked the one with the more energy, it was more rowdy bullying it's other siblings.
"I was thinking..." He trailed off when YN finally put her phone away being done with showing him all the pictures.
"Hmm?" She sounded giving him all his attention.
"I, I don't know how to, ehm, say this." He stuttered, running a nervous knuckle under his nose.
"What's wrong?" She asked, concerned all of a sudden.
"Nothing, nothing's wrong. I'm just nervous to say this!" He sighed.
"Harry, did you do something? What did you do?" She didn't know why she was asking this but it felt like he did something and how he wants to confess to her. A crease between her eyebrows grew tighter.
"No, no, baby I didn't do anything." He rushed, "I just want to ask if you like ehm, want to, uhhh... start trying to have a baby?"
"I, uh, what?" She was so surprised by his question she didn't know how to even process it.
"I know we never actually talked about it. Do you want to have kids? With me?" He asked but quickly realised, "I shouldn't say it this way. I, YN, I really, really, really love you if it's not obvious until now you know. And I've never had what I have with you by my side, I mean I've never lived with anything, never had a pet with anyone before, never had anyone care for me in the way you do before. I want more of it. Just a little bundle of our love to love upon for the rest of my days. I've been thinking about it since we were in New York, and especially since last couple of weeks. I don't know how to approach this conversation 'cause it can be bit sensitive for some. Don't know if that's what you want, I won't even ask you again if you tell me."
His heart was hammering in his ears as he felt his cheeks heat up.
"Harry, I..." She trailed off to add to his fear. "I do want to have kids. Especially if it's with you. I understand what you're saying, I'm not gonna say no to that. God, you don't know how much I want my own little ones! But not when still not married."
"What's wrong that? We already have sex." He shrugged.
"I just don't want to deal with mu family Harry, I honestly don't care when we start a family, you know?" She asked, her voice as soft as it can get, "you already know how my parents are after me because they know we live together. It's already hard enough for me to put up with them. If they got to know we're having a child together, I don't even want to think what my parents will do after. You know it's still not acceptable where I come from to have kids before marriage, people talk complete shit which I know I won't be able to take. But we can, after we're married."
"I understand." He nodded, because he really did. Her word to have a baby with him was enough to put him at ease and hold him off until they're actually married. Which he thinks is not too far enough in the future.
"And having a baby is a lot of work. We'll need to get a place with an extra bedroom for the little one, unless you don't mind having a little cot in our room here." She shared.
"They will be sleeping in our room untill they're big enough, baby, but I don't mind if it happens in this home. But we can look for a house close by here if you want?" He suggested.
"Mhmm we can do that." She agreed. They would have to discuss more on financials, because YN had just turned in her last installment of ger house loan (collaborating with Harry came in a huge help for her with that) and had very little in her savings to chip in. Even though Harry would be able to get a house all by himself, she'd want to be a part of the financial process too. "How many do you want."
"Let's think about one first." He chuckled sheepishly.
"Mhmm." She teased him, "I was thinking maybe I wanna have two or four."
"You want an even number of kids?"
"I just don't want a middle child." She chuckled. Even if they did ended up having an odd number of kids she'd treat her middle child the best she could like the others.
"Awh!" He cooed sadly pulling her in an embrace, he pressed a kiss sloppy on her cheek with a loud smooching sound.
"Are you okay, though?"
"Mhmm, I am." He sounded, "why would you ask that?"
"You, ehm, last night, you basically turned down to have sex." She stuttered, "that was very unusual, especially coming from you."
He cracked a smile picking up on the humour in her last sentence, that's true though. "Was just thinking about all this, that's all."
"I thought something happened, are you sure you're okay?" She pressed.
"Yes baby, I am sure. When have I ever hid being sad or low from you, hmm?" He scooted closer to her, nudging his nose against her, "especially when I know I'll be getting loads of cuddles and kisses from you."
She chuckled, "I can give you kisses and cuddles whenever, Haz, you know that."
"Yeah?" He rubbed his nose against hers in feathery touches, "would you give me kisses and cuddles now?"
"Mhmm." She agreed, her eyes shuttered closed as she leaned into close contact with him.
"Come close to me then, pretty." He urged her to straddle his thighs, she did, her mouth already buttoned onto his taking him by surprise. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose as he pulled her closer. He couldn't help the groan of a whine which left his mouth when she pulled away, feeling her fingers slip through his hair on the back of his head in gentle, soothing strokes of her finger tips. He leaned into her touch.
"What do you think? You think we'll have a girl a boy first?" She asked.
"Hmm," he signed ad his hands rested upon her hips, "I mind with either. We'll love them for who they are!"
"Awh!" She cooed. "But I think you'll be a better suit for a girl dad."
"How so, baby?"
"She'll know that how she is to be treated, our daughter I mean which is nothing but like a royalty. I know you'll treat her like a queen." She shared, "I can already imagine that."
It warmed his heart, "that puts on a lot of pressure on me."
"No, it's okay." She rushed, "I didn't mean it that way, I'm sorry. You're going to be an amazing dad to our babies, Haz!"
"I'm just teasing baby, I know we're gonna make mistakes on our way which is okay." He chuckled at her reaction, "but what if we have a boy?"
"Then you're gonna be the best influence, he's gonna grow up to be - hopefully - comfortable in himself and be the most respectful person just like our daughter would grow up to be." She smiled, pressed another sweet kiss on his mouth which he so gladly returned to her. "But I want you to tell me whenever you're not in mood okay? I feel so bad, I was being all touchy-touchy. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel uncomfortable."
"No, you didn't my love, I love it when you touch me. In any way." He assured her, "you know I'll tell you when I'm not in mood. But now I certainly am in the mood." With a cheeky smirk he buttoned his mouth on hers, feeling her smile he tightly wrapped his arms around her.
"Well, good thing," she mumbled, "because I am too."
"Yeah?" He taunted, "always so needy for me, aren't you?" He stood up all of a sudden to her surprise. His hands supporting bum with her legs wrapped around his hips he made his way to their bedroom. "Need to wash my hands first. Baby, please!" Just when he'd put her down on their bed he was pulled down with her a huff.
"Oh, okay." She realised releasing her arms from around his neck.
"Be right back," with a peck on her forehead he rushed to the bathroom, he's touched his car door, then the lift button, fiddled with his keys and touched the main door before she was dragging him to the sofa talking about getting a new kitten, he also washed his dick just to be safe. Got a towel to splay on their sheets, he knows that they'd be tok tired to change the sheets later even jf they're yet to have their dinner. Took him all long three minutes to return, already unbuttoning his the white dress shirt he had on. "Hi."
"Hi." She chuckled watching him knee his way towards her on their shared bed, pushing away their blanket as he layed the towel down. He gave her another quick kiss before he was shrugging off the shirt off his shoulders but it got caught in his necklace. "You're going to break it." She reached for his necklace and carefully freed the button stuck in the chain making him giggle as he threw the garment on the floor, he was initially aiming for the laundry basket.
"Only fair if you take your shirt off."
"No!" She whined in her pretend disagreement.
"Yes!" He mocked her as his hands reached for the hem of her turtle neck at her hips, daring to dig his fingers just enough to make squirm before he was pushing the fabric up. She'd let him pull it over her shirt revealing the black lacy bra she was yet to take off, but the neckline got caught in her earring. "Oh, don't move!" He carefully slipped off the piece of jewelry from her earlobe as it was just a hook. "You alright?"
"Mhmm." She nodded.
"These are cute!" He chuckled seeing the clay charms of cats hung on the hook, he placed the pair on the side table once she handed him other. Her friend got those for her saying the piece of jewelry reminded her of her. He hovered over her as he lied her down carefully, managing to fit perfectly in between her thighs as his lips brushing in feathery touches just under her earlobe, like a pain relief kiss.
YN's hands dipped inbetween both their bodies reaching his core, her hand was met with his hard on. Just a squeeze on his bulge had him grunting against her neck as his teeth sunk into her skin.
God, she'll have to wear turtle necks for the rest of the week now!
Harey definitely loved leaving his marks on her, in the places only he can see. On the swells of her breasts and in between, on her hips, on soft skin of her inner thighs closer to her glistening cunt.
"Oh fuck!" He moaned heavily breathing, "you're gonna make me cum just like that."
"Can I, please?" She asked, stuttering shyly, "I want to suck you?"
"Yeah? Go on baby love, you know I'm all yours." He lifted his head up from her neck to look at before he pressed a soft lingering kiss on the full of her mouth.
He had moved every pillow to be piled up on the headrest of their bed as he's planning to get her in the same position in sometime. He got his pants and boxers off, his prick proud and hard up right.
"I love you!" She mumbled giving him another kiss on the cheek, as she sat on her heels next to him. Trailing her hand from his chest, down his tummy following the happy trail below his belly button.
"I love you mo-" he gasped at the touch of her hand on his cock, feeling sensitive for unknown reason today. He watched her moments as he wrapped her small hand around his shaft, on the second stroke and a swipe of her thumb over the tip had him throwing his head back. Breathing heavy.
She decided to cut to chase when he felt her warm mouth wrapped around his tip, her tongue pressed flat getting the taste of the pre cum. He swore he could be cumming any moment when he felt soft vibrations of her humming around his cock taking him further down, using her hand to cover what she couldn't take.
"Gahh! Fuck!" He moaned, his voice went extra deep mid orgasm which she seemed to love so much, he took her free hand in his lacing his fingers through hers in a gentle hold. She pulled away with a pop sound of her sucking hard on his cock to catch for breathing, reaching to cup his balls, playing with them just how she's figured he likes it. She took him back in his mouth bobbing up and low on gis length. "Fuck, just like that baby. You're so - ugh! - so good to me!" That earned another moan from her around his cock.
"Fuck I'm so close baby, just like that make me cum. Please!" His breathing got heavier which had his heart thumping against his chest, he whined at the lost of contact when she pulled away.
"Cum for me, Haz." She requested. Just as she had her mouth back on him, his release warmed her up. Taking all she could as the rest of his cum dripped down her hand with each bob of her head, making his cock go softer. She felt his legs shake on her side, a hand on the back of her head.
"C'mere." He breathed, without any hesitation he pulled her to smear his lips onto her spit-cum slick ones, slipping his tongue in her mouth.
"You good?" She asked.
"Yeah, just need a moment, you made me cum so hard." He nudged his nose next to hers, "I want you to sit on my lap, get on." YN listened to him, raising up on her knees to get closer to him. "Pants and knickers off, sweet girl." His demand caught her off guard.
First of, she was wearing her comfy panties when she changed after she got home, they had little pandas printed on them. She wasn't planning on letting him see those as he's teased her once about the same pair before, it was going to be am embarrassing in such a sexy moment. And second off, she haven't shaved since her period stopped this month. Though he's made it pretty clear he doesn't care, but she does. Somewhat.
"What's wrong?" He asked, finally being able to breath at a steady pace. "What? Are you wearing your pink panda panties?" He smirked.
"Stop, they're comfy!" She scoffed moving on her spot, feeling the slickness of her own folds with each move.
"Come on, I don't mind. It's my turn now." He urged her. Hesitating she followed his demand, shimmying her swears and panties off, "come to me!" He made grabby hands towards her making her.
"You sure you want to go again?" She enquired, he still looks blissed out, his pupils still blown out.
"Mhmm, plus I have other means to have you screaming my name." He smirked, resting his hand on sides her bare thighs moving his hands up to hest on her hips.
"Daddy chill!" She rolled her eyes.
He knew what she was doing there, bringing up his one kink they hardly indulged in now.
"Now, now angel, don't be a brat." His made a semi-hard contact with her bum causing her to jolt in surprise.
"What was that for?" She gasped.
"You heard me." He raised a challenging brow at her, causing her to laugh throwing her head back. He'd figured she can't be serious like this which he found adorable. "Don't be a brat if you want Daddy to make you feel good."
"Oh then I'm definitely gonna be one." She nodded her head, biting onto her lips to hold back another laugh. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She couldn't, letting her head drop on his shoulder for a moment she giggled. "I'll be serious now." Blinking her eyes twice she put on a serious which now had him giggling at.
Usually he's the one incharge in bed, as cliche as it sounds that's how both of them work. But none of them felt the need to verbalise the power dinamic in a kinky way, maybe it was a thing at the very start but for some reason they both stopped it. And now joke about it here and there. But it had his cock almost jumping up again when she called him that.
The little joking around made it all the more real for her, that sex or intimacy isn't always picture perfect as it is usually portrayed in the media. It was so much more enjoyable that way, seeing him actually make an effort to wash his hands so she wouldn't catch any unwanted infections or shit that happens to people with uteruses, or the way he makes her to feels so comfortable in her own skin even though she doesn't fit into the conventional mold made the society. That was the most sexiest thing she had experience!
"Your tits look amazing in this bra." He commented, blatantly staring at the swells of her breasts right in front of his face, as he raised his hands along her sides to rest on the curve of her waist before one slipped up further on her back in no time garment was unhooked. He's way too slick with his movements in moments like this. He further slipped down the elastic straps from her shoulders, leaving her now in the same state as him.
"Way better!" Tugging down the flimsy garment made of lace off her hands, Harry tossed it accross the bed to join rest of their clothes. Dipping his head forward, he pressed his lips onto her neck leaving the soft trail of kisses down her sweet spot, making his way down to her collar bone. Working to deepen the mark he left on her a couple pf days before. One of his hand squeezing onto her breast rolling the hardened nipple in between his thumb and forefinger, whilst reaching down to wrap his lips around the other. She whimpered under his touch, feeling the wetness just grow further in between her legs.
Harry could only imagine how full her breasts would be once they're finally have a baby, excited see and go through all the changes by her side. That had him dipping his hand in, finger tips brushing up her wet folds. He smirked feeling her gasping, leaning back into the pillows to look atthe way he had her whimpering under him.
He was already getting at her sight. "Hmm, so wet." He spared a glance at his fingers working onto her sensitive cunt, "for me baby?"
"Mhmm." She nodded, hands halting onto either on his shoulders to keep herself steady. All her teasing him went out the window just at the touch of his finger tips on her sensitive clit.
"Words, sweet baby, I need words." He teased as he rubbed slow circles on her clit.
"God, it's for you, Harry!" She bleated.
"It's what now, darling?" He urged her to say what he wanted to hear, halting his move.
"Ah! Please don't stop," he was going to annoy her with this now as he shot her a cocky look, "please daddy!"
"That's my girl." A dimple dented his cheek as his smirk grew wider.
"Please I want you inside Harry," she shot him a puppy face, "I've been holding off since yesterday."
"Yeah? That's what took you fifteen minutes extra in shower this morning, baby love?" He was enjoying it now, teasing her.
"I told you was washing my hair!" She whined, that was the truth. It's not as good as it is with him, she'd rather wait for him when he's close to her than do it herself.
"Then what are you calling me tonight?" He reminded her.
"Daddy," she nods her head jerkily, "daddy, please!"
He chuckled, "I'm just teasing baby, you can have me. You ready now?"
"Mhmm, mhmm!" She agreed. Wrapping his fingers around his cock, it took him just few strokes to get himself fully hard again if he wasn't already. Nudging his tip in her fold he urged her to take control.
"Come on, baby, you wanna ride Daddy's cock?" He suggested.
"Mhm-" before she could say anything his tip was pushing past her slit. She still can't get used to him, especially when they go a day or two without making love some times. She slowly sunk on his cock, feeling him fill her up to brim. Her head fell to the crook of his neck.
"Take your time to adjust baby," he sighed feeling her tightly wrapped around him.
"Need a moment." She shared.
"Yeah, why don't gimme a kiss baby?" He suggested, already cupping her jaw with one of his hand to bring her down, buttoning his mouth on hers pushed his tongue past her lips. He hummed at the contact trying to pull her more closer, as if he wasn't inside her already. The sound of their lips moving together came to halt when YN pulled away just to speak.
"I, I, can move now." She shared, feeling streched enough around his prick.
"Go on baby," he urged her. YN slowly started rutting her hips against his, with a pair of his hands on either sides of her helping everything to keep her steady. He never held back his moans, voice two times lower and deeper as he pressed his forehead onto her chest.
This was his favourite thing to do, making love with her.
Feeling her clench around his cock, or his fingers, especially when she's enjoying it. He felt so proud lf every time they made love, seeing her grow more and more confident and comfortable in herself. He pressed a kiss on her chest where her heart is.
"Fuck!" He heard her mumble quietly.
"You enjoying it baby?" He asked, moving behind , "you feel so— fuck!— so good wrapped around my cock, so warm and tight. So good for me."
"Fuck. Ye-yes!" She nods her head jerkily. The coil in her stomach tightened to the point it was close to coming undone any moment. "I'm so close, daddy!" It the slipped.
"Wait for me baby," he warned her, making his grip firm on her hips to quicken her movement, "you want me to cum inside you?"
"Uh-huh!"
"Yeah? Gonna fill you up so good, baby!" He announced, his own high was reaching up making his brain go all mushy. "Cum for me, will you baby? Cum around my cock."
"I, I am. I am." She nodded. Finding right words in the moment was something she couldn't do. Her rutting against him because sloppier and sloppier making her shudder as she came clenching around him. Have him fill her up with his cum. Just on the last thrust she sunk back on his cock before feeling him soften up again. It hit her hard, her orgasm there unexpectedly.
Their bedroom filled with their heavy breathing and sighs of pleasure. YN snuggled into Harry with him still inside her. Her taking on birth control was the best decision she'd made, and this was one of many reasons why on the list. The feeling she couldn't comprehend in words.
Especially now that he'd finally help nail another reason for wanting him cum inside her every time with his baby talk. Was it weird that she was thinking how great of a father he would be to her kids in a moment like this? She could careless. Because that's what she would want her kids to have.
"You good, my love?" Harry asked. His voice sounded extra honey sweet to her right in that moment.
"Mhmm." She sounded, "it was amazing."
"It was, honey love." He breathed out as he was too tired in the moment to even laugh with having two orgasms back to back. Somehow, he reached for the blanket to wrap around her so she won't get cold. He hiked up his legs at his knees so she is cradled against him.
"This okay?" She enquired for his consent about what he knew exactly.
"More than okay, darling." He assured her. Who was he to lie he didn't enjoyed a bit of cock warming here and there? "You know, I love you so much!"
She giggled tiredly, "I love you so much, too, Haz!"
They sat there cuddled up with their blanket wrapped around them. Until YN realised she was hungry and that she hasn't eaten anything since breakfast.
"Harry?"
"Yes, love?"
"I am hungry." She shared, just to make it more clear her tummy rumbled.
"Oh no, baby." He gasped softly, "let's get you fed now, yeah?" He rubbed her back twice before reluctantly pulling away. He slowly slipped out of her, completely aware how sensitive she gets every time. "I'm sorry, I brought you in here before we had our dinner." He shared.
Harry takes it very seriously if she's had her meals or not, especially since he picked on her not so well relationship with food. She's recently started conversing when she's hungry and she wants to eat.
"I'm too tired to cook anything."
"We'll order take out." He urged her off their bed and to the bathroom so he can help her clean up. He even rushed to get a change of clothes. He had already put on a pair of sweats.
"I'll do this," she said, "please order something. I didn't had my lunch today." Taking the another pair of panda printed panties he got for her, she slipped them on and his sweatshirt next.
"YN!" He let a scolding whine, "did you not take your afternoon medications then?" Pulling out her hair from the neck hole of her (his) sweatshirt she shot him a look of her puppy eyes. "No, don't look at me like that. You know you shouldn't have those medicines without having some food in your system, love. Then you get all dizzy and nauseous, that's not good for you."
"I didn't get the time to today." She explained, tailing behind him as he made his way in the kitchen, "we were short on staff today. So I just took my medicines in hurry thinking I'll get time to eat after."
"Don't do that next time, okay?" He warned her, "you were short staffed doesn't mean you can't take fifteen minutes to yourself to eat. If that happens again I'm gonna have to have a chat with the owner myself."
"No, it won't happen again. I promise." She rushed. He was putting some frozen fries in the air fryer, she noticed. He disapproved thay she actually ate those, but at least she'll have something in her stomach till their take out is delivered to them. It was quick to make.
Who's gonna stop her from eating french fries? That too the frozen ones, no one! That's why he brought over his air fryer from his house when he moved his stuff to their flat.
"You're making me fries." She pointed out, wiggling her brows at him with a teasing tone.
"Stop, you haven't eaten anything in last thirteen hours." He rolled his eyes. She stood there next to him watching him make her a snack, there wasn't a point in teasing him more there.
He looked so pretty, standing there shirtless. Sometimes she forgets how much taller he is that her that she really have to lift her head up to look at her gorgeous features. Yeah, he's that all over her and obsessed that he's constantly clinging onto her for her realise. She's got all to herself there. Not even in dreams had she imagined to have a partner as loving amd caring as him. A soft place to fall back to when it becomes inevitable to not feel low.
Now he's stood there in all his pretty glory making her something to eat as she hasn't had anything since morning, scolding her a little for it. It warmed her heart.
Pressing a soft kiss by his ship tattoo, she went onto sit on the counter whilst he's done putting her snack together. After he was done, Harry rushed to get his phone opening up the food delivery app he stood next to her. He pulled up the cuisine page.
"What would you like to eat, my lady?" He enquired, showing the options.
"Hmm, let's see." She scrolled through down to the option. And of course she picked up Indian food.
"I'm feeling butter chicken." He shared.
"Look at you!" She cooed booping his nose, "I'm a good influence, aren't I!" Flipping her hair back proudly she picked up her favourite restaurant in town, smiling ear to ear. He swore he saw her eyes sparkle.
She hung the moon and the sun. For him, she did.
"That's all you want?" He noticed she'd already added his favourites in the cart.
"Mhmm."
"Okay." He took his phone but added her favourite desserts too before he placed the order paying with Apple pay.
"Haz?"
"Hmm?" He placed his phone down on the counter beside her, giving her his undivided attention. His girl was sat there with her hands on either side of her thighs clutching onto the lip of the counter, swinging her legs.
"Let's get married."
"You want to?"
"Of course I want to." She nods, "so we can finally try to have a baby."
"I don't want you to feel pressured by this baby." He started, "it is going to be a big commitment. I know we live together, but it's going to be completely different to be married in living together. I can wait, we can wait till you're ready."
"I am not feeling pressured." YN assured him, "now that you've said it, that's something I really want. I've always wanted that, you know to have my own little family... Getting married has always been important to me, so I cam assured that I'm not feeling pressured. I know it is going to different. But ready for it."
"Yeah, you are?" Harry beamed at her, shifting to stand in between her thighs. He placed her hands on his shoulders, his lips were smeared over hers. First time he kissed her after their love making session.
"Mhmm." She sounded, "I have this image of you with our baby now. A little daughter. I can't seem to shake that off."
He chuckled, "I bet you'd team up with her against me."
"No, you'd be the one teaming up against me with her." She countered, arguing about who'd they're unborn (still unconceived) child would team up with.
"Touché." He giggled cheekily, earning a gasp and smack on his shoulders from her.
"So..." She raised her brows
"So?"
"When are you asking me to marry you?" She asked.
"I'm not telling you!"
"Why not?"
"It won't be a surprise." He shared, "even though I want to marry you as soon as I can. Still want to make it special baby, for us. But soon, yeah?"
"Yeah."
He pressed another kiss on her mouth, before the air fryer started beeping.
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Husband!König has many piercings, some he regrets some he admires himself from getting.
Getting in military after many years of bullying gave him lots of confidence, you can see it. From his lines in game you can understand how cocky and sure of himself he is. He’s a colonel now yes, but he was younger too. I believe he got to hookup more from his 19’s to his late 20’s, this gave him a possibility to discover himself, what he liked and to actually explore himself as a young adult. I believe he has had a brow piercing, the hole almost totally closed because he decided it was too risky keeping one on the field (image he actually rips it off because it gets stuck in something;-; ewwww) He just took it off and never really thought about putting it back in.
Classic but I do image him having a tongue piercing. Like listen, we know König eats pussy for pleasure, he would be okay with only feasting on your pussy for the rest of his life if he could choose to. So ofc, when he started to watch porn and noticed many actors having piercings, and how hot il looked while they ate pussy, he just went with it and got one. The fact that he actually went to a piercer instead of just asking Nikto for help by sticking a mf needle in his tongue and risking an infection, is actually pure luck, because our König is also a proud mf, he takes pride in being good at anything, And why wouldn’t he be able to stick a needle in his own tongue alone! (Thank god Nikto was the one to persuade him, he would’ve gotten an infection).
NOW, König has a big cock, we all know it, he knows it, everyone knows it. And how can his big attributes be highlighted if not by some downstairs piercings??? He’s got one on his tip, unfortunately removed due to the discomfort it gave him by constantly rubbing against his TOO TIGHT pants (whore). BUT DONT BE SAD! He once stumbled across a stack of porn magazines, they were old fashioned ones, probably from late 90’s, depicting naked man and women on each and every page (lol ofc they were porn magazine.)
A model in particular captured his attention, his soft dick resting on the side of a thigh, he could see the small piercings along the under part. Thank god König is also a tech genius, he works with advanced technology every day, so a silly and fast google search brings him to what he is looking for, that strange piercing’s name. Yes everyone, a Jacob’s ladder ;). He’s got one, his dick all hot and bothered form the moment he saw that model’s picture, because he was sure that it would feel SO GOOD to be inside a nice hot pussy, feeling how after each and every thrust the piercings would drag around the insides of a girl, making a moaning mess out of her.
Yes he got one, and he was very careful with it, König is a pretty clean lad, he may not have a skincare, may not use fancy lotions and shampoos, but he knows his routine, he keeps himself clean, even more now that he got the piercings. Well I think he got them in his 30’s, he was already mature enough to understand if he could or couldn’t take care of such an important body modification, and he went for it. He got it done when he knew he’d have the most time off from work, where he knew he could spent at least a few months outside the base and actually be able to care for the wound. Very sexy mature choice woof woof bark bark snarl gnawn
He has a failed lip piercing guys, if got ripped off when a bullet hit his face and scarred a bit of his lips, destiny wanted for the bullet to be deviated exactly by his lip piercing. He’s got a bit of a trauma now, refusing to get another one, but still grateful that the first one kinda saved his life and his face from the possibility of a fucking hole being planted inside of it. He was so sexy too, you have seen a pic (yes a pic, I never see anyone talking about how they actually have technology incorporated in their lives! They take pics guys! Like boomers probably, but they do!) you may try to convince him to get one again, and who knows, maybe he’ll actually consider, but only because YOU asked!! Image now the contrast of his tongue piercing and his lip one while he eats you out, woof woof bark, I’d faint.
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toxophilitis · 4 months
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Horny Peeping Sister cont
Chapter 6
Each knowing he was as guilty as the other, Jim and his children could not reproach each other for their incestuous fucking. Before the evening was over, Becky had confessed to her father that the only boy she had fucked had been none other than her brother, and, much to her and Tom’s surprise, their father hadn’t been angry at all. In fact, the idea seemed to excite him so they went one step further and told him about how often they went out into the neighborhood at night and watched people fucking. When Becky told him about what she and Tom had seen earlier that evening, Jim was ecstatic.
“I don’t know why I never thought of doing that myself,” he told his incredulous children. “Would you mind if I went with you two sometimes?”
Becky looked at her brother in shocked surprise. “But what about mom?”
“What about her? She’s been such a bitch these last few years, she’s lucky I haven’t done something like this before. Fuck her, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
“All right, Dad!” Tom cheered, slapping his old man on the back.
“Next time mom works late, we’re outta here!”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Jim said, giving both of his children a hug.
“Now let’s get us and this place cleaned up before she gets home.”
It took them about a week to find an evening where they all felt safe enough to leave the house together. Tom felt in charge and grown up, leading his father and sister through the darkened streets to another of his favorite viewing spots. Becky felt sexy and hot, knowing she had the chance to get fucked by both her father and her brother if they found something really good to look at. Jim felt a little nervous, sometimes wondering if he was out of his mind to be doing something like this, especially with his own children.
The house they had been aiming for was completely black when they arrived, much to their disappointment. But Tom quickly came up with another address, and they headed in that direction, three figures dressed in black slinking down the alleyways. But before they could even reach the house they had in mind, a different lighted window stopped them dead in their tracks.
“Wow!” Becky gasped, her pussy juicing up instantly.
“I’ve never seen them before,” Tom whispered, his eyes almost popping out of his head. “She’s gorgeous!”
“I’ll say,” his father agreed, a lump in his throat.
The house was across the alley from a vacant lot so the three of them crouched down in some bushes there and watched in awe the fucking taking place in the room across from them.
In that room, which looked like a room built entirely for fucking, was a lovely blonde woman and two men. The woman looked to Becky to be in her thirties, but she was very well kept, with big swinging tits, and a supple, youthful body. She had a very dark tan, and the lines of her tiny bikini looked obscene, especially when she turned so that the dark triangle of her light brown cunt-hair also showed.
While Jim and Tom took in the blonde’s assets, Becky also noticed everything there was to see about the two men in the room with her. One was a young body-builder, muscles rippling on every inch of his greased body. His hair was bleached from the sun and his face was ruggedly handsome. His cock was out of view because he had it shoved up the woman’s ass.
The other man was tall and dark-haired. He was very thin, but his face looked like something out of the fuck magazines Becky and her friend Vicky sometimes shared. His skin was dark, and covered everywhere with a fine mat of hair. Neither her father nor her brother had much body hair and Becky now discovered that she found it rather attractive.  Again she couldn’t get a very good look at the dark-haired man’s cock because he was feeding it to the blonde woman.
On the walls behind the three fuckers were pictures of people fucking in every imaginable position. Many of them had never even occurred to Becky and she immediately felt educated—and horny.
Tom wasted no time in taking advantage of the situation. Immediately he opened the fly of his jeans and let his cock bob free. Then, his eyes burning on the hot fucking action taking place inside that incredible room, he fisted his cock and began to work it up and back vigorously.
Becky and her father were more reserved. Becky merely began to shift her legs together, feeling her pussy getting very wet and hot. After a few minutes she allowed herself to touch her crotch, but kept her fingers on the outside of her jeans.
Jim was even more reluctant. He’d never done anything like this in his life, and he couldn’t believe he was actually doing it now. His eyes moved from the horny blonde and her two studs to his own horny children. Although he had expected it, he was still shocked when he saw his son jacking himself off so wantonly. But his shock turned to lust when he saw the way Becky was rubbing her juicy little pussy, her face slack with lust as she watched the blonde take a cock from either end.
The blonde was down on all fours, with the body-builder kneeling behind her and the dark-haired pretty boy kneeling in front of her. She had her eyes closed and her head bobbed forward and back, taking and releasing his cock, her fingers against his hairy thighs as she held herself up. Each time the body-builder slammed his cock into her ass, her forehead wrinkled with a look of pain and concern and fuck-lust.
“Yeah, fuck her in the ass!” Tom panted, rooting as if he were at a baseball game. “Yeah! Fuck her good!”
Both Becky and her father watched Tom’s hard-on pointing out into the night. He held it with both hands, one on top of the other, and jammed it through the circle they made. His balls dangled out beneath his rigid prick, moving back and forth with his strenuous fucking motions.  The boy was kneeling in the dirt and weeds of the empty lot.
Becky was crouched down, her knees spread wide apart, the fabric of her jeans stretched taut across her cunt. Her hand could feel the wetness coming right through the denim as she watched the sexy scene in front of her.
Jim just bent himself over at the waist, bending his knees a little bit to keep down low. Although it didn’t register in his conscious mind, he wanted to be ready to run in case anyone happened upon them. But his bent-over position only seemed to emphasize the elongating shaft of his cock and he self-consciously adjusted it in his pants to ease his considerable discomfort.
Becky rubbed her little pussy vigorously, trying to imagine what it would feel like to have a cock as big as her father’s up her ass. Could she do it? she asked herself, sneaking a look up into her dad’s concerned face. Maybe she’d have to try it and see.
The thought made her pussy tremble and she had to shove her hand down the front of her pants. She left her jeans snapped shut, liking the way it felt to touch herself inside of her clothes. It reminded her of how she sometimes put her hand down her pants at school, fingering herself off while sexy Mr. Spillman gave one of his boring lectures in science class. More than once Becky had gotten herself off imagining what he looked like without his clothes and glasses!
“Oh! Ohhh!” Tom grunted, his cock suddenly shooting like a firehose.
Becky and Jim both turned their attention briefly to Tom. His cream jetted out and splattered noisily into the dry brush around them. Both his hands continued to jack on his spurting cock-shaft, and Becky swallowed involuntarily, thinking it was such a shame to waste such delicious cream. Jim couldn’t help but look around them nervously, still very ill at ease.
But no one was there, and when Tom sat down flat on his ass to recover from his orgasm, Jim looked back at the horny blonde in the room. Was that some kind of orgy room they had there? he wondered.
In among the lewd photographs, Jim recognized other sexual devices that had gone unnoticed by his children. There were many different colored dildos of various sizes and even a few masks and a couple of whips and some chained anklets. All the equipment made Jim feel funny. He wanted to feel disgusted by it all, and it upset him that he wasn’t.
“What’s the matter, Dad?” Tom asked, stroking his already reviving hard-on. “Don’t you like it?”
“Ahem, sure!” Jim said, trying not to sound as uncomfortable as he felt. “It’s great, just swell.”
“Then get yer meat out and beat it!” Tom laughed. “We don’t come out here just to watch—that’s sick!”
With both his kids watching him intently, Jim had no choice but to haul out his swollen prick. Actually, it was a relief to set his hard-on free and soothe it with the familiar feel of his hand.
“She’s really a hot one, isn’t she Dad?” Tom said, nodding toward the blonde in the house.
“She sure is, Son,” Jim replied, kneeling down next to the boy and pulling Becky over closer to them.
“And those two guys,” Becky said, “I wonder what it would feel like to take two cocks at the same time.”
“I’m sure we could arrange for you to find out,” Tom said lewdly, his eyes bright with fuck-lust.
“Ahhh, but not tonight, okay?” Jim said. “Let’s do it at home some time, huh?”
“Take it easy, Dad,” Tom laughed. “No one is gonna see us. Becky, why don’t you give a little head to dear old dad here to calm him down?”
“But then I can’t watch them fucking her,” the girl whimpered.
“I’ll tell you what they’re doing,” Tom said, trying to pull Becky over in front of their dad. “Come on, suck him off and drink his come.”
Becky’s pussy was on fire, and the thought of gulping down her dad’s jizz made it even hotter than watching the blonde woman take two cocks.  She giggled her agreement and moved over in front of Jim, settling down flat on her ass in front of him, her feet spread on either side of the kneeling man.
All Jim’s fears left him when his daughter’s lips closed around the shaft of his cock. It was like Becky was sucking out all his apprehensions and he took hold of her face and helped her take in all the many inches of his throbbing prick.
“Feel better now?” Tom asked, his own cock helplessly hard again.
“Oh yeah,” Jim sighed.
Tom then turned his eyes back to the double-fucking in the house. The man at the blonde’s ass was pounding her harder than ever, and the boy could tell that he was getting ready to pump his load up her ass. Tom fisted his own cock, pumping it as he anticipated the man’s orgasm.
Becky bobbed her head, taking and releasing all of her father’s lusty prick. His cock-meat tasted good, and she covered it with her spit, making the mouth-fucking easier. She ran her tongue around and around the swollen prick-meat and enjoyed the way her father twitched and sighed.
As she ate him, Jim opened up her jeans and got at her little cunt. It was very juicy and he fingered it open, smearing the slimy cream all around her cuntal area.
“Oh Beck, he’s really giving it to her ass now,” Tom panted, beginning his suck-by-suck action calls. “She really loves it though, what a slut!”
Becky moaned around her father’s cock as she imagined the blonde taking the bodybuilder’s cock. She pulled harder on Jim’s cockmeat, his fingers and her lusty imagination stirring her fucking juices like never before.
Jim tangled his fingers in the strands of her long hair and pumped her face up and down around his cock-shaft. The way her tongue ran up and down along the sensitive vein that cut across his hard-on made the man roll his eyes and thrust his cock out even more. His little girl gave head like a pro and he couldn’t wait to blast his cream down her cock-sucking throat.
“Way to go, hon,” he panted. “Yeah, suck out my cream!”
Becky bobbed her face, taking all of his cock until she could feel his zipper against her tender lips. Then she pulled her mouth back slowly, keeping her lips tight around the length of his cock, and wiggled her tongue along the underside until she felt her teeth hit the helmet of his prick-head. Then she mouthed just the very tip of his cock, her tongue trying to worm its way into the flared piss-hole.
Tom heard his father’s breathing growing harsher and harsher and he wished he had some of the action too. Then, deciding that if the woman in the house could please two cocks, so could Becky, he moved right up tight against his dad and shoved his own prick toward his sister’s sucking mouth.
“Do me too,” he panted. “Suck me just a little bit, Beck.”
Liking the idea, Becky grabbed both cocks and held them together. Then she lapped up and down both of their swollen tips, feeling and tasting the subtle differences in the flavor of their leaking jizz.
Jim’s fingers poked in and out of the mouth of her cunt and Becky felt herself coming. To be sucking two cocks while her own father fingered her off was just too much!
“Hummm!” she moaned, her body vibrating wildly. “Mmmm!”
Her orgasm was quick, but very intense and behind her closed eyelids she saw vivid blasts of exploding color. Her mouth was open and empty as she gasped for air and then gasped for cock, sucking in first one cock-knob and then the other.
Still high with her recent release, Becky sucked one cock-tip and then turned her head slightly to have the other. Her dad’s prick-knob was a little bigger, but she liked the taste of her brother’s better. The horny girl was glad she didn’t have to choose between the two because she loved them both and to have them both at once was a dream come true.
“The guy in her ass shot off!” Tom suddenly grunted, shoving harder at Becky. “Ahhh, yeah, he’s filling her ass with his cream!”
Becky moaned around their cocks, her tongue out and licking up the side of one prick-shaft and down the other. Her father’s fingers left her pussy and she turned her full attention to bringing both men off as soon as possible.
She took a set of balls in each hand and rolled them in her palms like dice. Then she smashed them up tight against the two twitching cock-shafts and then released them, letting their own considerable weight pull them down. Both men murmured and grunted, their passions ever mounting.
“The dark-haired bear is fucking her mouth like crazy!” Tom cried.
The news made Becky wild. She pushed their straining cock-heads together with her fingers and crammed both of them into her gaping mouth. She ran her tongue around both of them, taking the jizz that dripped out more and more.
“Oh honey!” Jim gasped, his hands pulling her stuffed face far down the shaft of his, as well as Tom’s prick. “Gettin’ there!”
Becky bobbed her head as much as she could on their bunched-together fuck-meat. Then she pulled off and concentrated on sucking her father’s cock all the way to his twitching balls.
“Ahhh!” Jim exclaimed, his cock-meat suddenly lurching and his cream jetting down her throat. “Babyyy!”
Becky snorted and struggled to take her dad’s come. Absently she reached out for her brother’s thrumming prick and just as she touched it, it too let loose with its hot load.
“Aggg, Christ!” Tom grunted, his cream exploding against the side of his sister’s cock-sucking face.
Worried she might drown if she slacked off, Becky gulped down her dad’s cream as she felt her brother’s cream spraying against her ear. She was totally surrounded by jizz, and was the best feeling in the world!
Both men shuddered and groaned as their cocks emptied. Then they both fell away from Becky and the girl felt oddly alone. Not knowing what else to do, she turned around and took another look at the horny blonde. And, much to her delight, Becky saw that the handsome dark-haired man was just pumping his load into her hot, sucking mouth. Becky gave a sticky grin, knowing she had twice as much cream in her belly as the sexy older woman did. She then looked down at her panting father and brother and took both of their cocks in her small hands. “Let’s get these things home so you can give them both to me at once,” she said huskily, jacking on their wilted, sticky pricks. “And I don’t mean in my mouth!”
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ramblingoak · 6 months
Note
Hello! I apologize if you don’t take requests btw but if you do , do you think you can write head cannons of what the papas would do for their s/o with Covid when you can? <3(I totally didn’t js find out that I had Covid 😀) again super sorry if u don’t take requests!🖤
Hey! I hope you are feeling much much better. Apologies this took a bit to finish. I ended up getting Covid last week myself so clearly karma got me for taking too long xD. This did end up being more for readers that are just kind of sick in general but I hope you still enjoy the little drabble I did for each Papa 💙
Warnings: short and sweet, pretty fluffy and fairly silly, there are some suggestive comments but these are mostly sfw, readers are all gender neutral, not beta read so pls ignore any mistakes
Mayo Rub ~ Primo x GN!Reader
“Are you going to be grumpy about this the whole time I’m sick?”  Primo scoffed and continued to aggressively turn the pages in his gardening magazine.  “Well?”
“You are mistaken, I’m not grumpy about anything.”
“Then why are you pouting over pictures of tulips?”
“They’re not tuli–”  Primo stopped abruptly, roughly closing his magazine and getting up from the couch.  When he glanced over your way you raised an eyebrow at him.  “They’re lilies.”
“Fine, lilies.”  You took a moment to cough into your elbow, knowing that he was now frowning because it had been getting progressively worse as the day had worn on.  “But you admit that you’re pouting.”
“Why must you be so difficult?”  When you couldn’t answer right away due to another coughing fit he wandered over to the bed, wringing his hands with worry.  “Fogliolina, I’m only trying to help.”
He was ready with your bottle of water when you were able to look up, meeting his concerned gaze sheepishly.  With a shrug you took the bottle from him, taking a deep drink to try and soothe your throat before attempting to answer.
“The store bought stuff is working fine.”  You ignored his muttered ‘clearly’ and pressed on,  “Look I just don’t buy into the…you know.”  Primo raised his eyebrow as you wiggled the fingers of one hand in his direction.  “Plant magic.”
“It’s not magic, my little leaf.”  The unspoken ‘idiota’ hung between you but you decided to be gracious and ignore it.  “They are natural remedies that have been used for hundreds, no, thousands of years!”
“Fine.  If I let you work some of your plant magic will you stop pouting?”
“It’s not–”  He took a deep breath, blowing it slowly out through his nose before continuing.  “SÍ, I will stop pouting.”
“Alright then, have at it.”  Primo gave you a pleased smile before leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead.  He was frowning when he pulled away, bringing his hand up to press against the warm skin his lips just touched.  When he muttered something under his breath in Italian and turned away you grabbed at the sleeve of his sweater and tugged him back.  “Fogliolina?”
“Just promise not to rub mayonnaise or whatever on my chest.”
“Che cazzo?  Why wou–nevermind.”  
You had to bite your lip to stop from laughing at the impressively annoyed look on his face.  He took a deep breath before shooting you a look that usually either predicated a lecture or him demanding you remove your clothes.  Unfortunately you knew that right now it meant the former.  You decided to go easy on the man that was about to work his…whatever on you.
“I love you Primo.”
“As you should.”  The both of you shared a smile before he clapped his hands together and turned back to head out the bedroom door.  “Sit tight fogliolina, I’ll be back with the mayonnaise in just a few moments.”
Your laughter quickly brought on another coughing fit but you waved him away when he looked back at you.  
“Go!  Get your potions old man, I’ll still be here.”
“I’m going to make sure of it, my little leaf, don’t you worry.”
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Secret Ingredient ~ Secondo x GN!Reader
“Is it salt?”
You hid your face in the neck of the sweater you had borrowed.  The fabric was soft and warm, with the bonus of smelling like the man it belonged to.  Secondo let out an aggrieved sigh from where he was standing over the stove before turning around with an eyebrow raised.
“Salt?  Really?” 
“Fancy salt?”
“SÌ, the secret ingredient of the chicken noodle soup recipe passed down through my mother’s family for generations is fancy salt.”  He gave you a little smile when he caught you pouting.  “Would you like a taste, dolcezza?”
“Yes, please.” 
Secondo got a spoonful and blew on it as he walked over to the kitchen table.  He held it to your lips with great care, watching the expression on your face change as you tasted it.  When you gave him a pleased smile he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“You feel a little warm again, would you like to lay down?”
“No, no I’m fine.  I want to stay out here with you.”  That earned you another kiss before he turned and went back to the stove.  You licked the taste of the soup off your lips before taking another guess.  “Rosemary?”
“That’s not much of a secret, dolcezza.”
“Parsley?”
“Parsley is a necessity, certainly not l’ingrediente segreto.”  
“Ok fine, how about Primo’s parsley?”
Secondo chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled two bowls from a cupboard and started to fill them with the soup he’d labored over almost all afternoon.  You had been stuck between desperately wanting him close because you felt bad but also not wanting him to get sick.  When you’d tried to explain this he had gone on about some nonsense of the Emeritus line having strong constitutions and rarely becoming ill.  Whatever.  You’d remember his speech the next time he was whining over a cold.
“All of the ingredients are from Primo’s gardens, as you know.”  
He set your bowl down in front of you before taking a seat himself.  You let yourself get distracted for a bit looking at his exposed forearms.  It was one of the reasons you enjoyed watching him cook.  He’d roll up his sleeves and you’d get to daydream about his arms while he worked.  Your eyes finally looked up from staring at the dark hair covering his skin to find him smirking at you.  
“Get over yourself.”  He knocked his foot against yours under the table and you flashed him a smile before bringing a spoonful to your lips.  Like most everything he made it tasted amazing.  You let out a delighted little hum before taking another guess.  “Basil?”
“Again, not a secret.”
You frowned down at your bowl as you tried to think of what was so damn secret about his soup.  He had even refused to tell Copia earlier when he’d come by asking for the recipe.  It had to be something extremely uncommon for him to be so weird about it.  But he always got a little weird when he was making you something special, especially if it was an old recipe of his mother’s.  Secondo always took such great care when he recreated them, like he was pouring his love for his mother into them as he worked…oh.  You reached across the table and laid a hand on his arm, squeezing it gently when he looked at you.
“I love you too, Secondo.”
“What?”
“What do you mean ‘what’?”  When he didn’t elaborate you pulled your hand away and crossed your arms over your chest.  “The secret ingredient.  It’s love.”
“Love isn’t an ingredient.”
“Yes it is.”
“No dolcezza, it isn’t.”
“I bet your mother would agree with me.”
Secondo snorted, rolling his eyes as he moved his chair closer to yours.  It was close enough he could wrap an arm around your shoulders and tuck you close to his side.  After placing a few kisses into your hair he pulled away and cupped your cheek.
“I have no doubt that if my mother was still here you and her would run circles around me.”
“Just admit it.  I promise I won’t tell anyone.”  When he didn’t say anything you grinned, his silence was all the confirmation you needed.  “It’s love.”
“It’s paprika.”
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Satan Magic ~ Terzo x GN!Reader
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Terzo groaned, muttering under his breath as he pulled you closer to his chest.
“This is my church I can be wherever I want.”
“Oh your church, huh?”  You dug an elbow into his gut, grinning when he swore in Italian.  “Besides, you know what I mean.”
“SÌ, sÌ.  I know.”  He shoved a leg in between yours and rubbed his cold foot along your skin, holding you tighter when you tried to wiggle away.  “Ai!  Quit it, I'm trying to help.”
“How are your freakishly cold feet supposed to help me?”
“You have to warm them up first.”
“Satan’s dick, Terzo.”  A fit of coughing came over you then and you tried to ignore how nice it was to have Terzo’s hand rubbing your back as your body shook.  It took you a moment to catch your breath and you sniffled as you shamelessly pressed back against his warm chest.  “I don’t want you to get sick.”
“How many times must I say this?  I don’t get sick.”  
“I seem to remember a few days last year that you were definitely sick and whining in this bed just like me.”
“Those were allergies and completely different.”
“Whatever you say Papa.”
His chest vibrated against your back when he groaned.
“Don’t talk like that right now, it’s not fair.”  You giggled as you pushed back against him, trying to get as close as possible.  He was so warm, it was exactly what you needed right now.  Terzo tightened his arms around your waist for a moment before pressing his lips against your ear.  “Would you like to hear a secret?”
“Always.”  
“It’s because I’m a Papa that I don’t get sick.”
You frowned, turning your head to the side to look at him as best you could.
“What?”
“My family line has been blessed by Lucifer himself.  It is not often that an Emeritus falls ill.”
“But he’ll let you suffer through allerg–hey!”  
He got another elbow in the gut after he pinched your hip and you both wrestled a bit under the blankets.  Terzo managed to turn you so that your chests were pressed together and you took advantage of the new position to tuck your face into his neck.  Your nose was severely stuffed up but you could still smell his cologne and it was so good you let your body go limp in his arms.
“Don’t worry about me, eh?  I want to be close to you, to take care of you.”
“Alright, fine.  I just hope your Satan magic protects you from this.”
Terzo snorted and started to card his fingers through your hair.  It didn’t take long before the soothing movement helped you begin to drift off.  You felt his lips against your temple and you smiled, opening your eyes to meet his gaze.
It was unfortunate that it was the exact moment he sneezed into your face.
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Stolen Soup ~ Copia x GN!Reader
Copia always got a little anxious when you were sick. 
It was part hating that you felt bad at all and also part him not wanting to catch what you had.  He hated getting sick and was always the worst patient.  In contrast you generally preferred to be left alone.  All you wanted to do was sleep and unfortunately you just found yourself getting irritated when Copia kept bugging you. 
“Copia I’m fine!  I just want to sleep.”  Oh here we go, the pout.  You groaned, rolling your eyes as you fell back onto the pillows.  “You’ve got better things to do anyway.”
“The only thing I need to do right now is take care of you.”  He had that stubborn look on his face, the one he gave Imperator when it was time to ask for a bigger costume budget.  “Amore, please?  Let me make sure you’re going to be alright.  Would you do this for your Papa?”
You could never win in a battle against that dopey look on his face so you just huffed and nodded your head.  His dazzling smile would be worth listening to him gloat later when he claimed it was only through his care you survived at all.  Copia began to hum to himself as he grabbed the big tote bag he came in with, quickly pulling things out and setting them at the foot of the bed. 
“What’s all this?”
“Ah, well I stopped by Primo’s for some salve to rub on your chest,”  You snorted when he wiggled his eyebrows at you.  “He also gave me some tea that will help your throat.  Secondo had some of his homemade soup in his fridge so I brought that as well.”
“Does Secondo know you took his soup?”  
“I left a note, he’ll get over it.”  
There was definitely no way Secondo would get over it but you decided to let it go.  When Copia started pulling some books out you sat up again and reached out for one. 
“I don’t think I have the energy to read right now.”  You ran your fingers over the worn cover of the book, flipping it open and seeing a short passage written in Italian on the first page.  “What does this say?”
“It’s a note to Terzo.”  Copia walked around the bed and gently took the book from you.  “From his mother.”
“Oh, Copia, maybe you should take it back.  I don't want anything to happen to it.”
“No no, this is what the book is for.  Sick days.”  He gave you a warm smile, leaning forward and kissing your forehead.  He was frowning when he pulled away, muttering something about taking your temperature.  “Terzo’s mother read this to him when he was a child and then Terzo used to read this to me.”
“So now it’s my turn?”
He looked over at you with a fond smile, his hands full of remedies and stolen soup. 
“Si amore, now it’s your turn.”
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Thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers and @foxybouquet with the Italian help 💙
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